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Boys Will Be Boys

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Kim Seokjin sighed as he looked up at the dreary gray school building in front of him. Why his father had taken a new job and forced their whole family to move two weeks into his third year of university and forced him to transfer school so he could be close to the family made no sense to him but it had happened and here he was, at his new school, two hours early so he could meet with the principal and try to attempt to memorize the layout of the imposing building so he could minimize his chances of making a fool of himself.

He hadn’t even known that they were accepting transfers anyways, but that’s what happens when your family was one of the wealthiest families in Korea.

He checked his watch, straightened his tie, and shrugged his messenger bag onto his shoulders as he began to trudge up the steps.

 

The school itself wasn’t that much bigger than his old college, but it was newer, and it showed in open and modern atrium style foyer, large skylights letting in the little sun there was with today’s dreary weather. He stood agape for a few seconds, taking in the sight of the endless sports championship banners and the large paintings of the past five school principals that hung on the walls in large, heavy frames before spotting the sign with an arrow that pointed in the direction of the “ Administrative Office”. He checked his watch again - something he did when he was nervous - and proceeded to follow the signs, the noise of his shoes against the smooth tile floor echoing almost eerily through the empty halls.

 

The lady sitting behind the large desk nudged the glasses up on her nose when she saw him and greeted him warmly. “Good morning sir, what can I do for you today?”

“Uh - I’m the new student… K - Kim Seokjin? I have a meeting with the principal - ” He smiled timidly, and the lady’s face lit up in exclamation.

“Yes, I was wondering why you didn’t look familiar. Absolutely then, follow me please sir.”

 

Half an hour later, he walked out feeling 300% more confused and nervous than he had been this morning, and he groaned silently to himself as he stepped out of the of the office into the halls that were slowly filling up with students. He paused to double check to make sure he had his psychology textbook - and then grunted when something solid slammed into his shoulder

 

The smell of expensive cologne and cigarette smoke filled his nostrils as he looked up into the dude that had just nearly run him over who was staring at him with an unreadable expression. The student was a bit taller than Seokjin himself, his tie messily knotted and dress shirt untucked, his sharp undercut emphasizing his square jaw. Seokjin couldn’t help but feel self conscious as the guy gave him a once-over, his heavily lidded eyes narrowing even more as he took in Seokjin’s perfectly clean, pressed uniform.

 

“You new, kid?” It came out as a deep, rough drawl and Seokjin couldn’t help the colour that flooded his cheeks.

“Y - yes - “ He stammered out, and the scowl increased.

“Better watch out, then.” The kid sneered, his cold stare never leaving Seokjin’s face.

 

Seokjin was about to bow and apologize a thousand times even though he had no idea who this guy was but he was saved from the embarrassment, however, by another boy running up to him and grabbing his arm.

“You’re the new kid?” He asked. He was breathless, his fair skin tinged pink from running, and Seokjin could only nod wordlessly in reply. The guy’s face broke out into a brilliant grin. “Thank god, I thought I had missed you!” The grin, however, disappeared when he saw the angry looking boy standing beside them.

 

“Namjoon hyung.” He greeted him stiffly, suddenly uncomfortable.

“Jungkook.” The angry boy - Namjoon, he presumed - replied lazily, quirking an eyebrow in his direction.

 

And then Jungkook was tugging on his arm, pulling Seokjin down the hall and away from the taller boy.

 

Seokjin soon discovered that Jungkook liked to talk, about anything and everything and although he had his shy moments, the kid was bright and goofy..

“I was supposed to get here earlier but I couldn’t cause my boyfriend took too long to get ready,” he apologized, after sure enough, introducing himself as Jeon Jungkook, vice president of the student’s club.

“Boyfriend?” He asked curiously.

The face splitting grin was back as Jungkook nodded. “Yeah, his name is Taehyung, you’ll like him, he’s cool and he’s in our sociology class even though he’s a year older than me! Hey, can I call you Jin? Cause Seokjin is such a mouthful, honestly...” he continued bubbling along happily until they reached Psychology class, but Seokjin honestly didn’t mind cause it was nice to have a friend on the first day, especially when he saved his brand new uniform from potentially getting trashed, and spent the entirety of Psychology class catching him up on things that he had missed.

 

Lunchtime found him sprawled out on the school’s quad, groaning inwardly as he thumbed through miscellaneous textbooks after having looked over the plethora of papers and assignments he needed to complete. He abstent mindedly twirled his pencil around in his fingers, thinking about how little free time he would have until he got caught up in all of his classes. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he nearly jumped when Jungkook dropped his bag beside him and sat down. There was a boy behind him, looking at Jin curiously as he raked a hand through his light brown hair before sitting down easily.

 

“Jin, this is Taehyung! Everyone calls him V though,” Jungkook introduced the boy. V had a friendly looking face, his dark eyes twinkling softly from underneath a soft smudge of dark eyeliner. Hiis plump lips twitched up in a smile, and Jin returned it as they lapsed into comfortable silence, Jungkook rifling around in his bag before pulling out a container of kimchi and beginning to inhale it hungrily. Jin gently tore open a packet of his favourite rice crackers, making sure not to spill any broken ones as he muched on them, listening to the two boyfriends’ easy banter.

 

“Hey V,” Jungkook mumbled through a mouthful of food. “Guess who this guy ran into this morning?”

“Who - wait, let me guess.” V frowned in between slurps of noodles. “Yoongi hyung?”

“No.”

“Assistant Teacher Minho hyung?”

“No, try again….”

“Assistant Teacher Junmyeon hyung? The new drama gyosu-nim Siwon hyung? I haven’t seen him yet but I’ve heard he’s really, really handsome...”

The disgruntled, offended look on Jungkook’s face was enough to send both V and Jin into peals of laughter.

“God, why are you like this? Why are you so bad at guessing?” Jungkook wailed, exaggerating his exasperation, but it wasn’t long before his composure cracked and his eyes crinkled into crescents, joining in with a hiccup-y laugh, but Jin’s died slowly in his throat when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise up, almost like he could feel that he was being stared at. He fake coughed awkwardly, trying to brush the feeling off, but then a piece of rice cracker stuck in his throat it turned into real coughs and he cursed inwardly, trying to stop as best as he could but he couldn’t and his eyes were beginning to water and he could only blindly reach for his water bottle as Jungkook thumped him on the back briefly. V passed him the bottle he was groping for, and he hurriedly gulped it down to relieve the burning sensation in his throat while trying to inconspicuously glance across the quad to see if people were staring.

 

He was relieved to find that they weren’t, and just as he was about to turn his attention back to the conversation his friends were having, he made accidental eye contact with a person sitting underneath another tree, but he was probably 50 meters away so he could definitely not be staring at Jin, and then the boy raised his head and Jin swallowed thickly as he realized it was the angry boy who had nearly run him over this morning, outside of the office.

 

“... Namjoon hyung.”

 

He vaguely heard Jungkook ruin the guessing game but he was too busy trying to remember how to breathe properly as a smirk? smile? slipped onto angry boy’s face and oh.

 

All intentions of breathing went out the window as the blood began to pound in his ears when neither boy broke eye contact, the handsome dimples in the angry boy’s cheeks deepening.

 

“Namjoon hyung?” V replied, confused. “Why would he - ?”

 

And then Jin couldn’t take it anymore and he ripped his eyes away, blinking as he tried to focus back on his friends and rejoin in the conversation.

“Yeah,” he added, rather abruptly, and promptly felt his face flame up when his voice came out high pitched and he cleared his throat, nervously raking a hand through his hair before repeating himself, making sure to pitch his voice lower. “Yeah, I’m not sure why, really.”






If Jin was being perfectly honest with himself, the rest of the day passed by relatively uneventfully. He had most of his classes with the bright eyed, confident Jungkook and as it turned out, Taehyung was hilariously opinionated and goofy and had a talent for contorting his face in the weirdest ways.

 

The end of the day had come surprisingly quickly, but in his opinion, the worst was yet to come. His parents had   to send him to a school where they required all of their students to live in dorms - it forced students to not be able to make up random excuses for missed assignments and tests - and he was no exception, even though he was enrolled late. He didn’t have any of his stuff with him except for his school bag as he was going to dinner with his parents tonight and then they were going to stop at home so he could grab the bags he’d packed 2 days ago.

 

He’d followed Jungkook and V like a puppy back to the administration office so that he could grab his pass key and room information and they chatted easily amongst themselves as they made their way across campus. He found himself standing in front of a heavy door less than ten minutes later and he knocked on the door nervously, all of his confidence having disappeared along with his friends - correction, he had insisted that they didn’t need to wait with him.  He gnawed on his lower lip nervously and thankfully after a few seconds of standing awkwardly in the middle of the long hall, the door swung open to reveal a scrawny, pale faced boy about his height wearing a beanie, ripped skinny jeans,and a hoodie, thick headphones slung around his neck.

His eyes narrowed as he scanned Jin up and down before an expression of mild distaste settled across his features.

 

“Who are you?” He asked bluntly. His voice was a quieter than Jin would have imagined, but it held a smooth slur of a carefully disguised accent and a gravelly roughness that somehow managed to sound somewhere between sleepy, dismissive, and strangely authorative.

Jin scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “I… uh… I’m supposed to be your roommate?”

The corners of the other boy’s mouth tugged downwards into somewhat of a scowl. “Oh. I thought administration was joking when they told me a new kid was moving in.”

 

He turned around and opened the door wider, lazily walking back into their new shared space and Jin took that as an invitation to take a few cautious steps into his new living area. There was a joint bathroom to his right and separate bedrooms - that’s what Jungkook had told him earlier that day, however he didn’t realize that as soon as the he walked in he was pretty much looking straight into the other boy’s room. A thick, soft looking comforter was lying rumpled on the small bed, a pencil case was laying open along with some binders on the desk, and a soft glow was coming from his laptop.

 

Jin realized was staring and he blinked rapidly, deciding that scrutinizing the wall hooks beside him were a much safer bet.

 

“Min Yoongi,” the pale kid said offhandedly, tugging at a strand of loose thread on his sleeve.

“Pardon?”

“I’m Min Yoongi, I’m in third year” he repeated, and Jin smiled tentatively.

“Kim Seokjin. I’m in second year” he replied.

Yoongi nodded silently, and Jin shifted his weight from one foot to the other. As awkward as first introductions are, this was probably one of the most cringeworthy. He wasn’t pretty sure Yoongi didn’t really like him, but honestly who could blame him?

“Uh so, that’s yours -” Yoongi pointed at closed door farthest to the right. “I guess I should let  you get settled or something. You…. sure didn’t bring much with you?”

“I’m getting the rest of my stuff from my parent’s house later,” Jin explained, and Yoongi shrugged.

“Fair enough.”

 

He made his way over to his new room for the rest of the school year, turning the door handle and swinging the solid door open to reveal a modestly spacious room. There was a window at the far end that looked out onto the quad, a desk with a bulletin board behind it, a (relatively) large closet, and two sets of shelves above his bed.

 

He dropped his school bag onto the desk and promptly plopped down onto the hard mattress, pulling his phone out out from his pocket. He flicked through his text messages and he had just started writing one to his parents when Yoongi suddenly stuck his head into the room.

 

“Jin-ah,” he began, and Jin nearly startled.

He tried his hardest to compose himself, and he gave himself an imaginary pat on the back when a relatively normal sounding  “what’s up?” came from his mouth.

“I don’t know if you’re... into… uh, girls… or guys… or both - “ Jin flushed bright red but Yoongi continued, a slightly bemused expression on his face. “But. Ah…. if you ever want to bring someone back here just uh, let me know or something and I’ll you know, I’ll…. peace out. Okay?”

“Uh… s - sure,” Jin stammered. He laughed, but it turned into a bad attempt at a cough when he realized how awkward it sounded.

Yoongi’s eyebrows raised a fraction, or did they? He swallowed the lump in his throat anyways.

“I’m - I’m not really one for uh, sleeping around so you probably don’t have to worry… about anything happening.” He admitted, and Yoongi’s eyebrows raised another fraction.

“Alright then,” Yoongi said simply, before turning around and padding his way back to his room.

 

Safe in the cosiness of his room, Yoongi sat down at his desk and pulled out his phone, his slim fingers texting out a message quickly. He had barely put down his phone when it chimed, breaking the silence.

 

>>YOONGI: puffy cheeks like a chipmunk, plump lips, frequent deer in the headlight expression?

 

>>MONIE: …

 

>>YOONGI: not my type but he’s cute I guess

 

>>MONIE: dibs asshole


Three hours later found Jin exactly in the same spot as he was before - sitting on his bed. Except this time he was surrounded by half empty suitcases and various bags. He had meticulously hung his clothes in his closet - organized by type of clothes, colour, and style (in that order) and his sock and underwear was almost done when he heard the gutteral roar of an engine revving through his window.

He ignored it until he heard it again.

He sighed and put down the pair of socks he was rolling and padded over to his room mates door, which was open, and he knocked gently on the wood beside it before peeking in.

“Yah?” Yoongi drawled, looking up from his laptop, his eyebrows knitted together. Jin fiddled with his fingers. He didn’t really want to bother the boy but he wouldn’t be able to sleep if whoever with the loud car didn’t stop.

“Uh, I was just wondering - um, is there any way that I can soundproof my window better? Cause, um, whoever’s revving their engine outside is really loud a-and I already know that I’m gonna lose sleep cause of it…”

Yoongi’s lips twitched -  almost forming a genuine smile. Or was it pity? “Get yourself some good headphones and ear plugs,” he suggested dryly.

Jin cursed under his breath and retreated back into his room.

Chapter Text

Kim Namjoon dropped the butt of the cigarette he had just finished smoking onto the ground, before stepping on it and crushing it gently with his foot, just as one of the fifth year teachers walked by.

“You’re not supposed to smoke here, you know,” she pointed out, raising her eyebrows in his direction.He rolled his eyes in response before walking over to his car, which was parked a few meters away. He had driven the Maserati today, mostly on the fact that it had been gorgeous outside and he needed an excuse to drive the sleek Centennial MC Edition with its roof down. He had also recently dipped the vehicle an eye catching chameleon blue/purple that shifted colours depending on the light and the angle you were looking at it.

 

He unlocked the doors and slid into the driver’s seat, his nose filling with the scent of the buttery soft leather seats - arguably the best smell in the world. He pushed the start button, enjoying the soft shudder of the 454 HP V8 engine started up. He pulled his phone out from the pocket of his school trousers, syncing the device with his car’s audio system and soon a heavy bass track was pumping through his veins. He stepped on the gas once, just for the fun of it, revving the engine. He smiled to himself as the car growled and purred underneath him. There was something about it, he wasn’t sure what, but knowing that this beautiful machine was ready to handle whatever he threw at it with just a twist of the steering wheel or a fraction of pressure on the brake pedal, was incredibly exhilarating. He revved once more, just for the fun of it, before shifting the car into drive and smoothly navigating out of the school grounds and onto the highway.

 

He wasn’t sure why he liked cars so much. Of course, it wasn’t just cause he was filthy rich. Well, maybe that was a part of it.

Maybe because they made him feel powerful, or maybe cause the feeling of adrenaline spiking through his veins as he pushed speed limits was comparable to the most addicting drug in the world. Maybe cause they made him feel alive. Or maybe because there was nothing better than the satisfaction of putting sweat, blood, and tears - who’s he kidding, Kim Namjoon doesn’t cry - into something and then feeling it give him its all. Plus, cars were gorgeous.

 

Especially his.

 

They were sleek and shiny like cheetahs, Mercedes, and Ferraris and Maseratis and Corvettes and Lamborghinis, all aerodynamics and powerful engines and pristine leather interiors. He was almost OCD about the way he polished them, buffing the surface with his favourite expensive wax until they were spotless and reflective enough to pass as mirrors. He never brought anything into them either, absolutely no food, so they never got dirty on the inside.

 

The song he was listening to changed into an uptempo electronic track, and as he pressed down on the gas pedal and the trees became a green blur beside the highway, his mind wandered.

Tonight he could finish a major part of the project car he'd been working on for the last 6 months. Which would be a great feeling, and a big milestone to pass. He'd been working on this car for far too long, but it didn't help when he had 5 others - 5 other working cars that he drove on a consistent basis that needed tending too as well. He didn't normally take on extra projects but this has been one he hadn't been able to pass up on - it was a 1958 Ferrari Testarossa that had been neglected that Gramps had found and told him about. The owners had only wanted $1 million for it, which was an absolute steal, and he had written up a check in two seconds and they had handed it over.

 

The best feature of the car, in his opinion, was its front end. Long and sloping and elegant, with protruding headlights that almost gave it a surprised, wide eyed expression.

 

Speaking of wide eyed.

 

That new kid who had been standing right in the middle of the hallway earlier today like an idiot when he had bumped into, who had then looked up at him with eyes wide as saucers, with mousey brown hair and soft looking, pillowy lips.

And then god damn mister class president, the ever charismatic and devastatingly handsome Jeon Jungkook, of all people had to drag him away.

 

Brat.

 

But he had seen him while he was out on the quad skipping class, and they had made eye contact for the briefest second before the kid had flushed bright red and went back to looking at his food. It had made his heart beat just a little bit faster. He wanted to know more about that kid. He wanted to peel back his layers and discover his dark side. Just thinking about what the kid would look like,  his eyes smudged in eyeliner, a dangerous smirk on his face was enough to make the fire in Namjoon’s stomach curl in the most delicious, sinful way. Even if he knew that’s probably not at all who the kid was. He was all smiles and perkiness and doe eyes.

 

And of course, just his luck, his most of the time best friend (and occasional fuck buddy) Min Yoongi had texted him earlier, telling him that the new kid was now his roommate.

 

He didn’t know why the boy’s face kept on appearing in his brain. He wasn’t even his type anyways. He didn’t go for the ones with the bright faces and the sweet smiles and the cosy look. That wasn’t him .

 

The kid probably didn’t know dick about cars, either.

 

But for some reason, he could picture him more clearly not with eyes rimmed in eyeliner but in a kitchen with an apron and the most radiant smile on his face, cooking delicious food like his mother used to make before she died.

 

At the thought of his mother, his heart clenched uncomfortably and he ran a hand through his sleek hair as his mouth tightened into a grim line. It was time to get this stuff out of his head.

 

With a few flicks of his thumb against the car’s volume switch on the back of his steering wheel, he turned up his music until anyone in a 100 meter radius would surely be able to hear, and he began to rap along to the music that was blasting as he pressed his foot down on the gas pedal a little bit more and wove through the roads he had driven a hundred times.

 


 

Within a few minutes he was turning down a winding, non descript driveway. There was a beat up Chevy truck parked next to the only thing on the property - a long, clean, industrial, plane hangar type looking building with a few garage-esque doors on the outside. He pulled up to the last door, labeled with a painted “6” on the outside, before pressing a small button tucked right beside the switch for the overhead lights.

 

He turned down his music as the door slid open and he glided onto the smooth, shiny linoleum floors that spanned across his garage. He parked the Maserati beside his matte black Nissan GTR and stepped out, enjoying the echo that his school shoes made in the large building. Gramps was here - Namjoon never failed to understand why he never parked his truck inside  in one of the 10 parking spots they each had at their own respective end of the building.

 

Namjoon tucked his keys in his pocket and made his way over to their main “casual” area ( couches, a TV, a kitchen, and office, and a bathroom), winding through his collection of cars, scanning them all with an appreciative and critical eye. He stopped at the coffee maker and poured himself a cup of coffee. He took a sip and let the deliciously bold, complex flavour of the world’s most expensive coffee beans seep into his body. He smiled to himself as he took another sip and wandered over to the bathroom so he could change into his coveralls.

 

He was almost there when familiar head stuck out of the office, just as he had walked past.

“I could hear you from a kilometer away, you know.” A gruff voice greeted him. That was Gramps’ equivalent of a normal person’s “hello! How have you been?”. It wasn’t warm and friendly, but it wasn’t harsh either. It was quick and brisque, just like Gramps.



When his mother had died, his father had gone into depression and substance abuse, and that’s where Gramps had come in.  He was his mother’s father - a man who had spent thirty years in the military and had even won several awards of honour. He was a  wealthy, strict, no-nonsense man who believed firmly in discipline and authority. Namjoon hadn’t wanted a “new” father when Gramps came into his life and that suited Gramps just fine. They had an odd relationship, neither of them being fond of over the top displays of affection or emotion. And although they had butted heads plenty of times while he was growing up, and they still disagreed occasionally, they had managed to reach a point where they had a relationship they both were satisfied with. For example, Gramps didn’t give Namjoon his opinion unless he asked for it, and in return Namjoon did all the things that Gramps expected him to do, like keep his area of the shop clean.

 

“Gramps.” Namjoon replied in acknowledgement.

“One of these days you’re gonna blow that god damn speaker out again,” Gramps grumbled, and retreated back into the office.

 

Namjoon didn’t bother responding and headed into the bathroom, closing the door behind him and beginning to take off his school tie and stuffy uniform, stripping down to his boxers. As much as he hated school with a passion he still took the time to fold his button down and trousers nicely before grabbing his jumpsuit off its hook on the wall. He took a second to study his body in the mirror. He was thin enough, most of his 1.80m height being thanks to his long legs. His shoulders were nicely broad and his collarbones protruded sharply under his tan skin.

He smoothed a hand down his flat stomach. He didn’t have a bulging 8 pack or anything - he didn’t have enough muscle for that - but there were dips where he could see the separation between the muscles, and his waist smoothed into a V taper that he was pleasantly surprised with seeing as he actually didn’t work out ever.

Did he have the best body?

 

Not really.

 

Was he happy with his body?

 

Pretty much.

 

He looked good in his school uniform, suits, and his mechanic’s jumpsuit. That’s really all he needed.


He stepped into his coveralls, zipping them up to his waist before tugging his favourite, soft cotton tank top over his head. He slid his arms into the arm holes and shrugged the rest of the suit over his shoulders. He tugged on his steel toed boots and took another sip of coffee as he stepped back out into the hall and made his way to the half finished Ferrari that was waiting for him. He was gonna get that damned chipmunk faced kid out of his mind.

Chapter Text


Beep beep beep.

 

Jin woke up to the vague sound of an alarm clock going off. He grumbled, poking a hand out from where he was burritoed up in a bundle of sheets and swatted at the desk on his clock before wiping a smudge of dried drool at the corner of his mouth and retracting his arm back into the warmth of his bed. He shifted, tucking himself deeper into his sheets and then -

 

Beep beep beep.

 

He groaned and flipped back over to face the incriminating clock, making sure in his half asleep daze that he hit the snooze button.

 

When the alarm went off again he ripped the sheets off his bed, blinking blearily into the darkness of his room. What the fuck?

His fingers scrambled to find his phone on his nightside table. He unlocked it, squinting as the brightness of the screen assaulted his eyes. He was in the middle of trying to find the goddamn flashlight app on his phone when he heard the alarm go off again and he froze. It wasn’t even his alarm clock. It wasn’t even in his room .

 

Goddamnit, Min Yoongi! He groaned, cursing the older boy. Who, apparently, was still sleeping. But he was awake now, and there was nothing he could do except crawl out of his still-warm sheets and rake a hand through his messy hair as he sat on the edge of his bed, thankful for the soft sheepskin rug that his mother had insisted that he bring. (“I don’t want my baby’s tootsies getting cold,” she had tutted. “Would you rather take one of the bearskins?” Jin had declined. As much as he was at a rich school and his parents were, quite frankly, loaded - he never really liked flaunting his wealth.)

 

He stood up and stretched, tucking his feet into his favourite slippers before padding over to the window and opening the shutters and letting the first bits of daylight stream in. He stifled a yawn and made his way to the bathroom. He didn’t hear the alarm any more, which means that Yoongi had probably turned it off. Thank god.

 

In the bathroom, he splashed some cold water on his face and rubbed the last bit of sleep out of his eyes while simultaneously trying not to scrutinize how puffy his face looked in the well lit mirror before turning on the shower, letting it heat up to the perfect temperature for him - just on the edge of scalding - and stepping in, letting the water pressure relax his muscles and the steam ease his worries about the rollercoaster he had jumped - no, been forced to jump - onto.

 

Twenty minutes later he was in his room, tucking in the hem of his shirt into his freshly pressed slacks when he heard Yoongi’s alarm go off, again. He peered at himself in his mirror. The white - black - red uniform, that reflected the school’s colours, framed his body nicely. Then again, his mother used to tell him that he was born to wear suits, with his tall frame and broad shoulders and straight waist. (“ He can almost wear a suit as well as I can!”  His father would add. “ Any son of mine needs to look good in a suit.” )

 

He sighed as the alarm continued to go off in the room next door and instead grabbed his favourite pair of Beats, slipping them over his ears and letting the slow rhythm of his favourite ambient techno song slip into his system as grabbed a handful of the assorted single serve beverage disks. It hadn’t looked like Yoongi had ever used the Tassimo machine that the school had provided, so he took the liberty of raiding his family’s stockpile before he had left.

Jin padded into the small “kitchen” space he shared with Yoongi (read: two mini fridges and mini freezers stacked on top of each other, some shelves, a microwave, a portable oven, and a two burner stove) and grabbed the coffee machine, selecting a tea for himself and stacking the rest of the disks in the (dust covered) carousel that sat in the corner of the counter.

 

Ten minutes later, when he was popping his contacts in and getting ready for his first class in half an hour, his mug sitting on his desk with the last dregs of tea in it, a higher pitched, second alarm joined the first one, effectively piercing through Jin’s attempt at blocking out the noise. He waited two minutes before pulling off his headphones - in time to hear a low grunt and a loud thump and then… silence.

 

Jin grimaced. Apparently Min Yoongi wasn’t really much of a morning person, and that meant that he was going to have to suffer through his multiple alarms, every day, for the rest of the year.   Fuck.

 

He grabbed the mug, swallowed the last gulp of his tea, grabbed his messenger bag, his phone, his keys, and did a quick check to make sure that he had all of his textbooks, and promptly exited his room… and nearly ran into a pissed off looking Yoongi. His hair was rumpled and sticking up in weird directions and he was still in his sleep clothes: a pair of black boxers that rode halfway up a pale, thin thigh and a baggy, worn shirt that was nearly slipping off one shoulder. He gave the boy a tentative smile.

 

“I - uh, I noticed that we had a Tassimo but it didn’t look like you used it so I brought a bunch of disks from home last night. They’re all assorted flavours, you’re welcome to them if you’d like, Yoongi-ssi,” he offers hopefully.

 

Yoongi just looks at him, the corners of his mouth downturned into a grumpy looking frown, and nods in a barely perceptible acknowledgement as he grunts a “ thanks ” and heads into the bathroom.

 

Jin’s putting on his shoes when Yoongi walks back out, a plush towel wrapped around his tiny waist and Jin feels the heat rush to his face so he quickly finishes with his shoelaces and opens the door, walking out into the long ass hallway and hearing the heavy door slam behind him, leaving Yoongi to do… whatever he was doing.

 

He’s taken two gulps of the refreshing early fall air and then his phone is vibrating and it’s Jungkook, telling him to stay right where he is and then two seconds later there’s a shout of “ Jin hyung!” And then he turns around and spots the raven haired boy making his way over, Taehyung’s arm slung casually over his shoulder.

 

“So hyung,” Taehyun begins, as they walk towards class. (Even though they weren’t in the same year, they all managed to have a few classes in the same building, thank the lord.) “Who’s your roommate?”

 

Jin nearly flushes again, the visual of Yoongi’s thin, half naked body and pale skin fresh in his mind, and Jungkook looks at him curiously but something struck him as odd about what Taehyung just said so he has to get that out of the way first, you know, formalities.

 

“You called me hyung,” he asks curiously.

Taehyung snorts. “You’re older than me by like, two years y’know… hyung .”

“Wait. But if Jungkook said that you’re a year older than him that means that I’m… three years older than Jungkook?” His brows knit together and Jungkook stifles a laugh, “You’re fucking 19 years old??” He gapes as pieces fit together. “But you’re vice president of the student’s club, which means you can’t be a freshman?”

 

“I’m, uh - “ Jungkook begins, at the same time that Taehyung mutters, “He’s a fuckin genius - “

“- and so I was able to skip some grades,” Jungkook finishes. He shrugs. “I’m only a second year.”

“Let me get this straight,” Jin pauses mid step as his brain wrestles with this new information. “I’m a third year. Both of you are second years - but -” he points at Taehyung. “You’re two years younger than me and you-” he points at Jungkook. “Are three years younger than me?”

Taehyung nods.

“How did you both you know… get in?”

Jungkook winks. “We’re geniuses,” he whispers conspiratorially. “And our families are rich,” Taehyung finishes. “You must be too then, to afford the tuition here, even though you don’t look like it.” He sounds thoughtful.

 

Jin shrugs. “I don’t really like flaunting my money,” he mumbles, and Taehyung claps him on the shoulder cheerily. “That’s okay hyung! Don’t worry, not everyone needs to wear handmade italian suits or get their school uniforms monogrammed!”

“Tell that to Namjoon hyung,” Jungkook mutters under his breath with a snort, so quietly Jin nearly misses it.

“So anyways. Back to my original question! Who’s your roommate, hyung?”

Jin cleares his throat. “Uh… some guy named… Min…. Yoongi?” He finishes awkwardly.

“No way.” Taehyung’s eyes are as big as glass orbs, and Jungkook’s watching him with an expression that makes him nervous. “You got roomed with Yoongi hyung,” he breathes out.

“Well, good luck!” Jungkook says brightly. “If you make it to winter break I’ll be proud of you!”

Jin frowned. “What’s the big deal with him? He’s barely said two words to me and he kind of looks at me like I personally killed his cat or something.” Taehyung erupts into loud peals of laughter, Jungkook snickers, and two people walking ahead of them turn around to look at the trio.

“That’s - that’s just how Yoongi hyung is ,” Jungkook explains, in between clapping Taehyung on the back. “He’s kind of, um, I dunno. Apparently he’s this really big underground rapper or something. He’s from Daegu, so if you thought he had an accent, that’s why. He tries really hard to cover it up, though. He’s in your year, he kind of doesn’t give a shit about anything really -”

“He’s pretty hot and he’s totally badass,” Taehyung interrupts, having recovered slightly, and Jungkook smacks him on the shoulder and shoots him a look.

“What?” He protests. “I’m just sayin’!”

They’ve reached the spot where they have to part ways, and Jin waves a hesitant goodbye to his new…. Friends.

 

He supposes they’re friends now.

 

Taehyung bellows a loud “Cya later, hyung~” and Jungkook shoots him a grin as they walk off to their class together.

 

He shakes his head, strangely unnerved by the apparent child genius that was Jeon Jungkook and his equally part smart and quirky boyfriend. He steps into class, a good ten minutes early, and goes over to introduce himself to the professor before taking a seat right in the centre.

 


 

“Do you think he’ll make it to spring break?” Jungkook mutters to Taehyung when they’ve successfully gotten out of earshot of Jin.

 

Taehyung shrugs. “Who knows. He seems like a nice guy, pretty quiet.”

“Yeah but you know Namjoon probably knows about this too, you should’ve seen the way he was looking at hyung yesterday, babe!”

“Fifty thousand won says that he snaps before winter break, Kookie… You know how Yoongi hyung is like.”

 

Jungkook looks over at Taehyung. “Make that a hundred thousand,” he smirks. “Go big or go home, TaeTae! Actually - how about this. If Jin hyung stays as Yoongi hyung’s roommate past winter break, you owe me a hundred thousand won and one night where I get to do whatever I want to you. Like Yaja time, but…. Better.”

 

Taehyung grins at the implication behind Jungkook’s words. “I like it,” he declares. “Go big or go home!”

Chapter Text


During one of their breaks, he finds Taehyung and Jungkook sprawled out on one of the picnic benches spread across the quad.

 

“So  hyung,” Jungkook asks him curiously. “Have you thought about any clubs or anything you’d like to join?”

Jin frowns. “Clubs?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung nods in agreement. “Good thinking Kookie. Do you like singing, hyung? We’re both in the vocal club. Kookie’s also in the dance team and I’m in the band.”

“You’re in a band?”  He asks curiously.

“I play the saxophone,” Taehyung replies proudly, puffing out his chest. “ And I’m damn good at it, too.”

“Well, I’m not a good dancer,” he admits, and leaves out the part that he’s tried to learn how to dance, really hard, but not a single class or lesson had gone well. “But I’ve been told I’m a good singer, and I mean, I like singing too but - everything must have started, right? It’s probably  too late for me to get in.”

 

“Don’t worry hyung,” Jungkook smiles. “We do vocal placements next week so you’re in good time and I bet our director will take one look at you and your wholesome baby face and he’ll hear your soft, melodic voice and he’ll be smitten!" He clutched a hand dramatically to his heart. "I'll talk to him today after practice, he's always eager for new people to join!”

 

He chooses to ignore the part about wholesome baby face and instead thinks about how his mother would probably cry out of happiness if she found out that Jin had joined a club (“ on the second day of college, my precious baby I’m so proud!”) and decides to go for it. It would help him meet new people, and anyways, how bad could it be?

 

“Sure,” he finally decides, fishing out his cell phone and setting himself a reminder. “I’ll come with you and see if I like vocal club.”


 

He walked briskly down the long hallway to his room that night after classes had finished, his head filled with all the things that he needed to do.

 

Practice my singing. I’m starving - I need to make some food. And do the homework I got from three classes. And call my parents. Fuck, I can’t believe I have homework already. I gotta be careful around my roommate so that he won’t try to plot my death or something.

 

Jin loved being busy. He loved the feeling of being busy, and he practically thrived off of the feeling of accomplishment that he got when he could cross something off of his mental checklist. He sighed happily, ready to buckle down and get things done.

 


 

Naturally, when he unlocked the door to his room and stepped inside, not much had changed. He could hear low music coming from the open door that lead to the abyss that was Yoongi’s room, some kind of bass-y rap shit and then the person in question - his roommate - (fuck, that was weird to say) strode out of the kitchen and acknowledged Jin’s existence with a nod.

 

What he wasn’t  expecting to hear was a gravelly “Yo.” and then, “Thanks for the coffee.”

His eyebrows knotted together, confused.

“The Tassimo disks,” Yoongi clarified with an exasperated sounding sigh that made it sound like Jin was wasting his time.

“O - oh, yep, those! Ha ha ha, no problem!” He replied, his brain taking half a second to click everything into place.

 

Yoongi didn’t say anything else and honestly, he was kind of glad.

 

He busied into the kitchen, grabbing his favourite apron and tying it around his waist before rummaging through his cupboards, trying to come up with something that was quick and yummy and warm. Gathering ingredients, he hummed as he cooked, trying to think of a good song he could sing for the vocal team coach that he could show off with. He wasn't really one to show off his singing in public, but he figured there was a pretty good chance Yoongi had his headphones on, so why not? There wasn't even a sound coming from the other room, but if there was, it most likely couldn't be heard over the sizzling of the vegetables in the frying pan or the bubbling of the pot of water that was signalling that it was time to cook some noodles.

In fact, it was only when he was putting his frying pan in the sink for washing when Yoongi wandered back into the kitchen, looking around with sleepy eyes, taking in the rolled up sleeves of his school uniform and the apron tied around his waist and the cutting board waiting to be dried, but they sharpened when they landed on the japchae that he had thrown together quickly.

 

“You know how to cook?” Yoongi sounded a smidge surprised - it was the first time he had ever heard Yoongi speak with any sort of emotion in his voice. He beamed and offered some of the plate to the skinny boy and Yoongi took the pair of chopsticks he had offered and tucked them in between his slender fingers and took a tentative bite. And chewed it a bit. And swallowed. And then Yoongi’s eyebrows raised the tiniest fraction.

 

“Not bad.”

 

His face split into a grin. “I'll leave some for you!” (He wanted it all to himself but he figured it was the right thing to do since the boy looked like he barely ate.)

 

Yoongi ignored him and continued on. “I heard you singing. You'd be well suited to the vocal club, most of them can't sing for shit.” It was stated bluntly, like it was a fact.

He felt his cheeks heat up. “Yeah, I was thinking about it. Thanks for the advice!”

Yoongi just shrugged in response and padded silently back to his room.

 


 

“The kid seems nice,” Yoongi drawled, before taking a drag of a cigarette and releasing it slowly into the night air. He looked at the tall boy beside him. “Not sure if he's your type though,” he mused. “He seems a bit too…. wholesome, y’know?”

 

Namjoon didn't say anything. They were sitting outside in the evening air, Yoongi having needed a break from the track he had been struggling with for the past two hours and as a result, he had texted his closest friend to see what he was up to… and now here they were.

 

“He even cooks well. I'm not sure if he's ever done anything wrong in his life,” Yoongi continued, and Namjoon just shrugged in response. He looked up and met the shorter boy’s gaze, his eyes dark.

“I can't stop thinking about him,” he muttered. “I dunno. There's just something about him that makes me want to break him, or something. And cuddle the shit out of him at the same time.”

Yoongi cracked a lecherous grin. “I bet you that underneath his whole ‘good boy’ thing he’s really actually really into some kinky, sadism or masochism type shit. I mean fuck, you should see the way he looks in his uniform, Joon. It makes me feel fucking -”

I get it. Thank you.” Namjoon cut him off with a growl. He had to try hard enough to keep chipmunk boy out of his head but those visuals were definitely not helping. He crossed his legs as an attempt to hide anything suspicious and  flicked his cigarette butt to the ground, watching the embers die down. Yoongi stayed silent and took a final drag of his own, releasing the smoke slowly and watching it curl up into the air.

“Well,” Yoongi drawled after a brief silence. “I should probably get back and finish that fuckin’ track before it kills me. Nice talking to you, Joonie. Are you gonna preform for the fall showcase? There were a few rumors floating around.”

The taller boy responded with a shrug. "Who knows," he responded. "Are you?"

Yoongi nodded. "I'm fucking psyched, man. We're gonna kill them this year. And speaking of kill, if you tell anyone about this I'll kill you." He raised his eyebrows menacingly - he had enough reason to be cocky: he was the school's hidden weapon. Nobody needed to know that he was actually the best underground rapper on this side of Korea besides his small group of friends, going incognito under the stage name "Suga", but Namjoon was the only one who knew all of the dirty details since he, if Yoongi was honest with himself, was probably the only one who was close to his own level of talent - to the point where he had quickly garnered himself the nickname of "Rap Monster" after he stepped on the rap scene and became the only person to be undefeated for their first seven actual rap battles, coming dangerously close to Yoongi's own record of ten straight wins in a row.

Namjoon simply nodded and they briefly exchanged their trademark lazy high-five-slash-handshake before Yoongi sauntered off towards the direction of the dorm buildings and Namjoon tapped the inside of his car’s door handle to unlock it and the butterfly doors of the car he had driven that day - a sleek, spotless, Audi - slid open with a smooth hiss and he sank into the comfortable, familiar, Italian leather seat.



Namjoon drove the entire way to the shop with his trousers uncomfortably tight.

Chapter Text

 


 

He survived the next day, getting lost only once and managing to not have any more embarrassing run-ins with Yoongi, and he’s proud of himself. He even managed to figure out a song that he could sing well, if the vocal director asked for him to sing something.

 

However, he was still nervous when he shrugged on a hoodie and made his way out of his dorm room, to where Jungkook and Taehyung were waiting for him. They had made a group chat on Kakao during their morning walk to class that had been mostly filled with photos of puppies (Taehyung) and the occasional music video (Jungkook) but the two had apparently talked to their vocal club coach after rehearsal yesterday and Jin was all cleared to come in and meet their teacher an hour before actual practice started so that he could go through all the rules and guidelines and see how good he was. (That last part wasn’t said out loud, but it was implied.)

 

The only thing that was really comforting him was the fact that they could dress informally and that his roommate had kind of complimented his voice on his first day, but it was almost like the two younger boys could sense that so they were trying their hardest to keep him in good spirits and it was a nice feeling, their laughter ringing through the empty halls of the university’s music wing.


 

It was Jungkook who knocked on the bland looking door twice, before opening it a crack and peeking in.

“Teacher?” He called out curiously, and a few minutes later none other than Park Jeong-su himself was opening it wide.

“Jungkook-ssi! Taehyung-ssi! And you must be Seokjin-ssi, right?” He radiated confidence and Jin had to remind himself how to act human. “Come on in, students!”

The music room was any vocal nerd’s dream, rows of seats and a raised stage area, and a small hallway leading to a handful smaller, more intimate practice rooms to the side. The ceiling was a weird sort of pattern, jutting out in weird angles that Jin recognised immediately as being the best to help produce the most ideal acoustics.

Park Jeong-su motioned towards his desk, noticing Jin’s awe at the room with a quirk of his eyebrows, and Jin followed him timidly, almost regretting his decision to join.

 

Almost as if he knew exactly how Jin was feeling, Park Jeong-su shooed away the younger boys with a wave of his hand.

“The a capella arrangements of Fools and Paper Hearts that you asked me to order a month ago are over there, Jungkook-ssi,” he said in a mock serious tone, a smile fighting to break out onto his handsome face. “I was thinking maybe you and Jimin-ssi could perform one or the other for fall showcase...go into one of the practice rooms, I’ll let you look at it before everyone else does!”

Jungkook’s face lit up as all thoughts of hanging around listening to Jin and his teacher talk disappeared. “Thank you teacher! You’re the best!” He scampered off, dragging Taehyung with him, and leaving only Jin and one of Korea’s most famous idols.

 

“So…” he started awkwardly. “I, um, I’m interested in joining but I don’t really know what I’m signing up for, honestly…”

Park Jeong-su laughed and patted his shoulder. “I admire you for your honesty, Seokjin-ssi! Come, let’s go over to the piano and we can go over some scales and stuff so I can hear what your voice sounds like and what kind of range you have, okay?”

 

Forty five later, Jin didn’t even know why he had felt nervous in the first place. Park Jeong-su was hilarious, and after five scales he already felt at ease. It helped that three notes in, multi-million album, fucking multiple world tour, Park motherfucking Jeong-su looked over at him and said, “wow, you have a really great voice .”

 

He had promptly turned a shade not unlike the colour of a tomato and on the next note, his voice had cracked and he had nearly shit his pants in embarrassment.

 

“Open your throat a little bit more... relaaaaax .”

 

He tried his hardest to follow the technical instructions. “Good!” Park Jeong-su praised him. He didn’t really know what he had done but apparently he had done something. “You feel how that G sharp got a lot easier to hold? That’s because your soft palate was tense. It’s hard, I know- “ the older man smiled sheepishly. “And honestly, when I was your age and a trainee it was the hardest thing for me to remember, but trust me, it really makes a difference in the long run!”

 

He stopped playing the piano for a second and checked his watch before he straightened his tie and looked Jin straight in the eye kindly. “You’re a really good vocalist, and I’d like you to join the club, I think you would be a really great addition to the voices we have here. It doesn’t matter that you’re a third year or that you’re new to the school. We have some showcases throughout the year and we also have a small performance team that competes in singing competitions and has won a bunch of awards, which I think you would fit really well into, if you’re not afraid of standing on stage and singing in front of a bunch of people!”

Jin smiles. “Yeah. I’d like that, it sounds like fun. Taehyung and Jungkook-ah really didn’t tell me much about it so I was pretty nervous when I first started singing the scales,” he admits, and Park Jeong-su laughs.

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me of them. Anyways, I’ll get you the papers to sign and consent forms and all of the formal stuff tomorrow, alright? The general club meets two times a week in the evening, and the performance team adds two other practices on top of that, is that okay?”

Jin nods and Park Jeong-su slides the piano chair back and goes to stand up. “Rehearsal starts soon, can you make sure that Jungkook-ssi and Taehyung-ssi are aware? I think I saw them go into practice room 4A…” He makes his way over to his desk and Jin just stands there for a moment, basking in the warm glow of the praise he just received.

 

He scans the room before his eyes land on the sign that has an arrow pointing in the direction of the “ individual studios” but before he gets halfway across the room Taehyung is bounding to meet him.

 

“We heard you hyung!” He grins excitedly. “You’re really good… like, really good!”

Jungkook appears seconds later, clutching some sheet paper in his hands. “He’s right, hyung, we couldn’t help but listen when you were like half way done, sorry... not sorry.” He’s flushing pink and his lips are a tad swollen if he’s not mistaken and Jin thinks there’s a good chance they might have done more in the soundproof practice rooms besides just looking over new music.

 

Students are trickling in now, shouting greetings to their ( his! ) teacher as they make their way to their seats, shrugging off backpacks and purses and digging out pencils and water bottles and sleek black folders.

 

“Come, sit beside us hyung,” Jungkook smiles. “We have about the same range so we’ll both be singing the same parts.”

 

They slip into chairs, Taehyung opting to sit behind them. (“It’s easier to bother Kookie this way.”) None of the students really seem to notice Jin, and that’s okay with him. He’d rather be invisible for the first few practices before he gets comfortable, and the other two tell him little bits and pieces about some of the students that are a part of the club.

 

“Song Hyo Min, she’s this really amazing first year soprano but everyone knows she has really bad stage fright…”

“That’s Kim Yoon, he likes to boast about having a three octave range. Nobody’s ever heard it, though.”

“Ha Rin though, she does  have a really solid three octave range and I was intimidated as fuck by her in my first year, remember that Kookie?”

“Yo, that guy carries the entire  bass section. I heard that one time him and his girlfriend were having sex and his voice literally projected across half of campus!”

 

There’s students of all years and levels he learns, some of the more advanced than others, and Jungkook seems to know most of them since he was on the performance team last year, and thankfully nobody makes eye contact with him except for a round faced boy wearing faded, comfortable jeans and a gray Supreme hoodie, a shock of orange hair visible from underneath the snapback perched backwards on his head that makes eye contact with him for the barely two seconds before dropping his gaze before plopping into a chair a few seats away, in the row behind them.

 

And then a few minutes later Park Jeong-su claps his hands, signalling the start of the practice, and everyone quiets down, and honestly, everything goes better than expected.

 

Both of his friends are brilliant singers, even if all he’s heard is half of a warm up so far, Taehyung’s voice has a brilliant husky quality to it and Jungkook’s being clear and soulful and he didn’t know why Yoongi said that they were shit, because quite frankly he would describe the choir as quite possibly most awesome thing to happen . His vocal chords are already warmed up so re-doing the scales is no problem for him, Park Jeong-su’s voice in the back of his head reminding him to “ relax his soft palate” and in the third set of ma, may, mi, mo, moo he begins to pinpoint a certain voice that starts to stand out amidst the collective voices.

 

He peeks around furtively, trying to see if he can determine whose voice it is that clearly carries that much more over everyone else. He looks to his right, scanning the students but he’s pretty positive that it’s coming from the left of him and when he turns his head in the other direction, orange haired boy makes eye contact with him for a second, before he drops his gaze and stares straight ahead, and Jin’s stomach drops. Shit, he’s on to me!

 

He waits two more sets before turning around again, glancing around the room. He doesn’t really want to ask Jungkook or Taehyung about who it is and when he turns to his left again, orange haired boy shifts away from him, and he furrows his eyebrows. Was the kid looking at him again?

 

When he feels a prickly sensation on the back of his neck, like someone is staring at him, he thinks it’s probably not a coincidence.

 

“Jungkook,” he whispered quietly to the boy beside him. Nobody else would hear him anyways, they were all too busy singing.

Jungkook leaned over. “Yeah?” He murmured, without taking his eyes off of their teacher.

 

Why does the boy with bright orange hair keep staring at us?

 

Taehyung leaned in. He had been eavesdropping from his spot right behind the two. “Bright orange hair you say, hyung? That’s Park Jimin,” he offered, grinning. “He has a thing for Jungkookie -”

“He does not,” Jungkook interrupted and rolled his eyes, shooting V a look. “He's probably staring at Jin hyung anyways. He's friends with your roommate, hyung, so he probably knows all about you!”

 

Weird . He thought to himself, quietly mulling over this new information. He had never really thought about Yoongi having friends before.

 

The three boys quickly dropped their gaze when their teacher looked over in their direction, his eyes sharp.

 

“Wrong,” Taehyung whispered, poking his head back into their row. “He’s jealous that you almost stole his fall showcase dance solo and you’re two years younger than him…”

Jungkook gave him as subtle of a shove as he could. “Shut up,” he hissed. “I did not.

 

He also wants. Your weenie,” Taehyung whisper-shouts this way louder than necessary, and Jin nearly snorts as Taehyung stifles a giggle at the scandalised look on Jungkook’s face due to his unique choice of words and a few students in front of them turn around slightly to peer at him, noticing Jin for the first time.

 

(“I swear to god, Tae Tae! I’m going to fucking. kill you ”)

 

“Fall showcase though?” Jin frowned, confused and interrupting their quiet squabble.

 

Park Jeong-su turned his way to them again and Taehyung ducked back into his spot.

“I’ll tell you about it later, hyung,” Jungkook reassures him under his breath. Having heard the word a few times, he was more than a little bit curious to see what the big deal was.

 

(By the end of the practice he had pinpointed who he heard clearly over everyone else during warm ups, though.


It was Park Jimin.)

 

Chapter Text


“Hyung, are you hungry? Let’s go for bubble tea!”

 

Jimin protests feebly but it’s no use, Taehyung has grabbed his arm and begun to drag him in the direction of (what he assumes is) said bubble tea shop.

“Taehyung, I don’t really -”

“Nonsense, hyung!” Tae overrules him, singsonging loudly.

“C’mon hyung,” Jungkook adds. “You’re like 85% shoulders, you gotta eat some thing, you’re probably hungry…”

“I’m what ?”

“Like 80% shoulders?” Jungkook repeats innocently, as Jin narrows his eyes menacingly at the younger boy. He can’t deny that his stomach has been growling for the past half hour though, so he lets out a dejected sigh and lets himself be pulled along.

 

Taehyung, surprisingly, goes with strawberry. After carefully looking over the menu he decides to go with winter melon flavour, and Jungkook requests for one mango. The girl behind the counter is almost overly friendly, pushing her glasses up her nose and flashing a big smile when she tells him the total.

Jungkook goes to pull out his wallet but Jin puts a hand on his arm and tells him to go wait with Taehyung and Jungkook looks up in surprise.

“Hyung, it’s o - “

“It’s fine, Jungkookie,” he smiles, raising his eyebrows and giving him a Look, as he fishes out some bills from one of his pockets and passes them over the counter.

“Aww. how nice of you,” the girl behind the counter coos, and Jin’s cheeks tinge pink as he rubs the back of his neck distractedly.

“Here’s your change!” She presses it into his hand with long, scary looking purple nails, lingering there for just a second longer than necessary.  “Have a great day!”

“Thanks,” he smiles at her politely before excusing himself. “You too.”

 

“You’re the best hyung ever!” Taehyung cheers as he passes him his drink and an oversize straw that’s perfect for sucking up the tapioca pearls. Jin rolls his eyes in response.

“Thank you for not making me feel left out or whatever,” he smiles.

Jungkook finds a cluster of empty, comfortable looking sofa-eque chairs around a table and they sink down into the soft seats. Jin takes a sip of his drink, enjoying the taste of the cool tea, and lets out a contented sigh.

“So, talk to me about what this ‘showcase’ business is all about.”   

 

Jungkook sets his drink down, his eyes bright.

“Basically, all of the teams and clubs here have their own thing to start off the school year, usually in the first two months after school starts… kind of like to show off their skills so early in the year. It’s like a bragging thing, y’know? Most of them are between us and our rival school, so the football team’s fall showcase is this really big football best-of-three game series against them, our orchestras do this big collaboration concert, etc etc. For the vocal club, there’s two parts: our main choir and their main choir come together and do some songs together, and then our vocal teams have a competition against each other. All of the donations go to charity and stuff but don’t get me wrong hyung, it’s a pretty intense thing. There’s usually a really cool stage set up, sometimes it expands into the crowd and stuff, kind of like it would be if it was an actual concert -”

“It is, though.” Taehyung mumbles, interrupting Jungkook mid sentence, his mouth full of tapioca pearls.

“And yeah, that’s about it. The dance club does the same thing, and by the way, you are coming to watch - no it’s, ands, or buts.” Jungkook emphasises his point by smacking the table in front of them. “This dongsaeng needs his hyung’s support! Plus, I’m pretty fuckin’ awesome .”

“Just warning you though hyung, it’s pretty stressful.” Taehyung swallows the last bit of tea in his mouth before continuing. “This kid - “ he jerks his thumb at Jungkook, “was even getting stress pimples from it last year.”

“Just cause you’re not on the vocal club’s performance team or the dance team doesn’t give you the right to judge about how intense stuff was last year, Taetae.” Jungkook folds his arms. “What was the worst that you had last year? Stringing together some sixteenth notes?”

“Shut the fuck up, Kookie.” Taehyung's eyebrows raise dangerously  and he takes another sip of tea before continuing. “You try fucking playing Stravinsky's Rite of Spring on the fucking saxophone and see how that goes. I'm telling you now, you're not gonna have a good time, at all . I suffered .”

Jin listened to them bicker as he drank his tea, amused as they heatedly pitted the difficulty of their passions against each other, before interrupting them with a cough.

“It’s like, 8pm…  I should get going,” he admitted sheepishly as he checked the time on his phone. “I have homework I should do…”

“But hyung,” Tae pouted. “We wanna spend more time with you!”

“It’s already 8pm?” Jungkook tugged his sleek black phone out of his pocket and double checked. “He’s right, and there’s movie night in an hour remember?”

“See?” Jin pointed out. “I wouldn’t want to intrude on your…. er, movie night.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “It’s not like that , it’s hosted by our dorm, and we can bring friends, remember, Kookie?”

Jungkook laughed and held up his hands in mock surrender. “What’s your favourite movie, hyung?”

“I - I have a lot of favourites,” he answered, trying to rake his brain to think of his most favourite recently. “Actually, as of a few weeks ago I’ve been binging on Studio Ghibli…”

Taehyung promptly choked on his drink. “They’re playing My Neighbor Totoro tonight!!! Hyung, it was meant to be!” He clutched his hand dramatically to his heart. “See, you have to come!”

Jin bites his lip. It’s tempting, but the thought of homework brings him back to reality. “No, it’s okay, I really should…”

“SO it’s decided, you’re coming. Excellent choice, hyung!” Taehyung beams, and Jin side eyes Jungkook.

“Is he always like this?” He whispers, and Jungkook nods fervently and pulled a face.

“Taetae, be nicer to our hyung,” he scolds the older boy, but Taehyung ignores him in favour of dropping an arm around his shoulder and planting a kiss on the side of his cheek.

Jin let out a sigh and made a move to stand up, grabbing his (now empty) cup of bubble tea, and headed towards the garbage can placed conveniently near the door, and the two younger boys followed.

 

Outside, it had gotten a bit cooler, and Jin paused to tug at his sweater as Jungkook and Taehyung linked hands, swinging their arms like children.

“I forgot to ask you hyung! How was your first ever vocal rehearsal?” Jungkook looked over, curious, and Jin smiled.

“It was awesome. You guys are awesome. The club is awesome! Everyone has such a good voice and I’m a bit intimidated. I don’t know why Yoongi said it was shit,” he laughed.

“What?” “Yoongi hyung said the vocal club was shit?”  Taehyung and Jungkook chorused, and he nodded.

“Hyung, imma break it to you.” Taehyung patted his arm gently. “The only genre of music that Yoongi thinks isn’t shit, is rap. Cause he’s a rapper.”

“Jimin hyung told me once that literally, the only music he acknowledges is rap and some obscure electronic stuff.”

 

Yoongi.

 

He realizes should probably let him know that he wasn’t going to be back to their rooms until late, in case he happened to worry (did he even worry?) so he pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found the one titled “Min Yoongi (roommate)”.  Last night he had taped a piece of paper beside their door with his name and cell phone number to be polite, and when he had come back after classes it had been added to (in neater writing than he would have imagined) and he was grateful that he had taken the extra minute to add the phone number to his contact list.


 

“Oooh, hyung, you got a text message!”

Jimin’s hand darted across the picnic table and swiped Yoongi’s phone even before the words had a chance to sink in, and the older boy’s dark eyes narrowed.

“Give that back, you shit,” he grumbled, trying to reach across to grab it but Jimin held it out of his reach, his eyes filling with mirth.

“Why?” He asked, grinning.

“Jiminnie, you should be nicer to your hyung,” Namjoon scolded the younger boy, and Jimin pouted.

“Jin hyung says he won’t be back until late tonight,” he read out loud, ignorant of how Namjoon’s eyes snapped up from the picnic table to stare at the device Jimin was holding like it was a magical object. Yoongi did, however.

Jimin was about to type a reply when Yoongi interrupted him.

“Jimin.”

His voice was dangerously low, with an edge to it, and Jimin knew better than to push his luck when Yoongi used that voice so he sighed and dropped the phone back on the table, giving it a flick in Yoongi’s direction.

“You’re no fun,” he grumbled, and Yoongi flashed him a shit eating grin, pleased at how quickly the younger boy obeyed. “I’m fun in my own way,” he shrugged.

“So, how’s it going with the new roomie anyways?” The younger boy pressed, and Yoongi gave him a blank stare.

“It’s going,” he answered. “He makes stupid amounts of food that somehow I always find a portion of in my fridge. He hums while he does homework and he stutters like an awkward baby.”

Yoongi feels Namjoon’s eyes now boring holes into him , and he has to try hard to suppress a laugh. Jimin’s oblivious to this, too, naturally. “He seems nice in vocal club, he’s a good singer! He seems to be good friends with Jungkook too, maybe he’ll join the vocal performance team? Hyung, do you think he would give me free food too? Y’know, if him and I became friends?”

 

“Jimin, didn’t you say you were gonna practice with Hobi tonight?” Namjoon says pointedly interrupting the younger boy’s chatter and checking his favourite Rolex that always hung from his wrist. “It’s almost 8:30, he’s probably already texted you or something...”

Jimin fishes his phone out of the back pocket and sure enough, he has 5 missed text messages, all from Jung Hoseok.

“Shit,” he exclaims, standing up from the table to call the older boy. “... Hello? Hobi hyung? It’s me…”  

He mouths a goodbye at the two older boys and anxiously hurries off in the direction of the dance practice rooms.

 

There’s a second of comfortable silence and then,

 

“Wanna come over to my place tonight?” Namjoon asks Yoongi. Yoongi shrugs. “Come on, man. You’ve been telling me forever that you’ll take a listen to some of the stuff I’ve been working on.”

“When the fuck did I ever say that?” There’s a smirk curling at the corner of Yoongi’s mouth, and Namjoon narrows his eyes even more.

“You literally cannot tell me that you would rather be in that shitty dorm room of yours over my studio.”

“Who knows, I’ve got a cute roommate…”

The bottom of Namjoon’s cheek jumps as he clenches his teeth, and Yoongi laughs.

“Shit, calm down dude. I’m joking, geez. Sure, whatever, I’m down.”

 

Yoongi slides into the passenger seat of the sleek Bentley, whistling softly. “I always forget how damn nice your cars are…”

Namjoon laughs. “You have a nice car too, dude. Even though you don’t know shit about them.”

“Hey man, I got other problems to deal with!”

“That’s your fault not mine now, isn’t it?”

Namjoon reaches out and flicks on the music easily before cruising out of the parking lot. A slow, bass heavy track starts pouring out of the speakers five minutes in, and Yoongi relishes in the feeling of being able to feel the car windows and doors vibrate. He can feel the vibrations down to his bones, and he takes a second to look at Namjoon as he slips a pair of dark sunglasses. He’d be damned if he didn’t feel like a motherfucking boss  right now.

And then the trademark slur of Lil Wayne is spilling over top of the bass and Yoongi does a double take cause,

 

my dick is a pen / it’s written all over her face / I put my tongue in her mouth / I make those pussy lips drool”  

 

“What the fuck, Joonie? The fuck is this shit ?” He shakes his head in disappointment. “You call this shit rap ?”

Namjoon flicks at a switch on the back of the steering wheel, his laughter ringing out as the track’s volume drops to more decent levels.

“Hey!” Namjoon protests. “It’s a good song!”

“This is literally a song about eating a girl out and fucking, Joon.”

“What’s wrong with that? Lil Wayne can rap, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was good at other things involving his mouth…”

 

“That’s disgusting .”

 

“Lemme call up the guys and girls you’ve been with, hyung, cause I’m pretty sure that I, for one, would be willing to rap about how good your mouth is. Cause I mean, you know, you can rap hella fast...”

Yoongi narrows his eyes at the taller boy. “The last time I sucked you off my jaw was sore for a fuckin week .”

“You also made me cum three times though, and don’t lie, you loved it.” Namjoon pointed out, taking his eyes off the road to glance beside him in Yoongi’s direction as he raised an eyebrow. Yoongi lets out a grumble.

“Whatever.”

“You know, I could make good use of your excellent mouth tonight. I have an unfinished track that’s screaming your name.”

He’s pretty sure there’s more than one sexual innuendo hidden in there, so Yoongi takes the opportunity to trail his fingers dangerously up Namjoon’s thigh and watches, pleased, as Namjoon’s fingers tighten on the steering wheel.

“'m pretty sure I can make something else - someone else - scream my name too,” he purrs.

“I don't doubt that.” Namjoon’s voice is low and barely over the new song that's playing in the car, the one with the god awful lyrics finally finished. Yoongi’s fingers inch closer up Namjoon’s thigh. “For fucks sake, wait to do that until we turn into the fucking driveway!” He's struggling to hold himself together, and Yoongi grins. With the interesting development that was Kim Seokjin, Namjoon was bound to be exponentially more frustrated, no matter how he tried to deny it.

 

“Or what?” His fingers barely brush the growing bulge in between Namjoon’s thighs and a sharp hiss escapes in between Namjoon’s clenched teeth. “What are you gonna do, Joonie?”

“Be a good boy.” It's a command. “And maybe you’ll only be hoarse for two days.” It's tagged on as an afterthought, and arousal burns low in Yoongi’s stomach.

 

His fingers are anxiously dancing around Namjoon’s waistband by the time the Bentley pulls into a familiar driveway and after they pass the main house, the light from flood lights that illuminate the spiralling pillars at the front of the house peeking into the dark interior of the Bentley’s tinted windows, they’re plunged into darkness again as Namjoon swings a soft left turn, following the driveway that leads to his condo, and in less than thirty seconds Yoongi’s deftly undone his belt and  popped open the top button of his pants and tugged down the incriminating zipper and (finally) releasing some of the pressure off of Namjoon’s fully hard dick that was previously suffocating.

 

Shit , fuck,”  it comes out as a shaky, breathy exhale and Yoongi’s glad for the fact that he can flip the center console out of the way as he unbuckles his seat belt, and then Namjoon’s, before slipping out of his seat and leaning over to press his nose into the silk fabric of his boxers and inhaling the clean, musky scent, enjoying the warmth radiating from Namjoon’s body. He reaches out with his tongue experimentally, his saliva dampening the soft material as he drags a gentle lick up a section of his shaft.

 

The car jerks suddenly and Yoongi nearly hits the back of his head against the bottom of the steering wheel, and he looks up, frowning.

“The fuck , Joon?”

“Sorry - sorry,” an muttered apology comes out. “I just - ah, wasn’t expecting you to do that and -  and I hadn’t parked yet and - I’m sorry, I accidentally stepped on the brake but uh, we’re parked now.”

Yoongi hums a reply before turning his attention back to Namjoon’s erection, tugging down his boxers gently, and Namjoon shudders when he feels Yoongi’s hot breath against his heated skin.  Yoongi wets his lips before licking a gentle stripe up the entirety of Namjoon’s length, and the other boy lets out a loud exhale.

“Are you just going to tease me all night?” He murmurs. “You know that’s not gonna make me cum, right?”

 

Yoongi ignores him in favour of suddenly slipping his mouth over the tip and sliding down until he can’t go any farther and his throat is beginning to restrict, and he swallows uselessly, fighting off the urge to gag, the pressure making  his mouth impossibly tight around Namjoon for a millisecond and Namjoon groans, deep and guttural. “ Fuck, Yoongi, goddamnit, your mouth feels so good - ” There’s a hand tangling in his hair, putting gentle pressure on the back of his head, and Yoongi makes the effort to relax so a few more centimeters of Namjoon’s thick cock can slip past his lips. He stays like that for a second, taking in the heavy, satisfying weight of Namjoon in his mouth, before pulling up to suck in a breath and hollowing his cheeks and sinking down again.

He blows him fast and dirty, loves the way that he can feel Namjoon’s eyes on him, watching his shining, slick lips, spit beginning to drip down to his balls, beginning to soak into his boxers. Watching the way his eyes flutter closed when Namjoon’s hand tightens in his hair and holds his head still and begins to fuck up into his mouth, letting out a string of curses when he feels Yoongi’s throat vibrating - caused by him moaning while he struggles to keep his mouth relaxed around Namjoon’s girth.

 

The groans and sharp breaths and muttered praises filling the car don’t fall deaf on Yoongi’s ears - he drinks them all in and uses them as motivation to suck harder - suck deeper - and his jaw is beginning to ache and he knows he’s gonna need a glass of water or two cause his throat is gonna be wrecked  but then his tongue darts into Namjoon’s slit and and the hand in his hair tightens to the point of being almost unbearable and Namjoon manages to grunt out an “ I’m gonna cum soon, you’re such a good boy, just a little bit more” so he allows Namjoon to take full  control and thrust into his mouth the way that he wants him to, his eyes nearly beginning to water with the amount of self control it takes to not gag and then Namjoon’s cock swells just the slightest and Yoongi almost rips his hair out of the other boy’s hold in his earnest to sink down and tighten his mouth around Namjoon as much as he can, almost painfully, his nose brushing against short, trimmed hair and his throat constricts, and that’s what pushes Namjoon over the edge and suddenly spurts of hot liquid are shooting down his throat, Namjoon’s cock pulsing in between his lips and his body shuddering as his orgasm hits him and Yoongi stays like that, swallowing every drop, until Namjoon’s beginning to soften in his mouth and he nearly yelps from oversensitivity when Yoongi swipes his tongue across his tip, collecting any remaining traces of cum.

 

Shit ,” Namjoon breathes. “Thanks for reminding me why you’re the best rapper in Seoul and Daegu.”

There’s a kink in his back and his neck is sore from the less than ideal position he had been in for the past fifteen minutes and Namjoon is quick to run a hand down his back comfortingly.

“I say we hit the jacuzzi for a while before we buckle down and get some work done, sounds good?”


“Fuckin’ perfect .” He smiles a lazy smile at the other boy. “I’m gonna need to borrow a spare toothbrush too.”

 

Chapter Text


[9:50am] >KOOK: hyung...

[9:50am] >KOOK: teacher wants us to sing a duet for the vocal fall showcase and

[9:50am] >KOOK: i found some good songs

[9:51am] >GYMINNIE: (≧∇≦)

[9:52am] >GYMINNIE: bring it to dance!!

[9:52am] >GYMINNIE: i bet they’re good though, you always pick the best songs ヽ(´▽`)/

[9:52am] >GYMINNIE: cya tonight~~

 


 

[10:49am] > TaeTae has changed the name of the group from “the 3 stooges” to “jin hyung’s our mom”

[2:04pm] >JIN: what

[2:05pm] >KOOK: what[2]

[11:20pm] > TaeTae has sent a link: NYAN CAT 10 HOUR EDITION!!!!!!

 


 

[12:04pm] >YOONGI: u owe me

[12:04pm] >YOONGI: sore throat meficng

[12:04pm] >YOONGI: medicine

[12:08pm] >MONIE: fair enough.

[12:08pm] >MONIE: thanks for helping out with the tracks though

[1:19pm] >YOONGI: ya

Chapter Text


Jimin was on his way to the on campus gym, taking the shortcut through the art buildings when he heard familiar music faintly floating through the air. He stopped for a second, his eyebrows knitting together. It sounded strangely like one of the pieces they were working on in dance club, but that couldn’t be it, could it? It was 11pm, on a Saturday. People had better things to do - unless you were Park Jimin and you were prepping yourself to hit legs so hard that you had already planned for alternate ways to get out of your bed the next morning.

 

He tugged his phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants, checking the time. The gym closed at 3am.

 

Well, I guess I have enough time to see what’s going on.

 

It had to be coming from one of the practice rooms, so he headed there, the dimly lit hallways looking almost like a scene from a scary movie and Jimin heard the music again, which meant that thank god, his preworkout wasn’t making him hallucinate, and he began to peek through the small windows in each door, standing on his tippy toes in order to be able to see everything fully.

 

And then he came across the one that was lit, and his eyes widened when he looked through the glass and saw Jeon Jungkook at one end. He was facing the mirrors, his bangs plastered to his forehead with sweat, his tanktop almost completely soaked through. Jimin watched as his shoulders dropped and he reached forward to hit the play button on the stereo in front of him, before quickly walking back to his spot and lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe away a stray bead of sweat that was slowly rolling down the side of his face before standing up tall again and then music began to blast, the same song that they were learning in dance club for the showcase. It was a difficult piece, and Jimin himself hadn’t even mastered it yet even though he had made it, but he watched, nodding his head along as he followed the steps and shit, he had almost nailed everything up to Jimin’s standards (which meant Jimin was gonna have to bust his ass twice as hard next practice) and then all of a sudden there was a spot where something just happened and then Jungkook was off beat and off rhythm and crumpling over, his hands covering his face, and Jimin could see his sides heaving from exertion before he stood up and angrily walked over to his reflection and his fists clenched and he suddenly swung out an arm, his fist connecting with the mirror solidly.

 

He stabbed at the stereo once, the music cutting off sharply, before repeating the motion and going back to stand where he had been before he messed up.

 

The piece began, and Jimin stayed there, watched as he got stuck in the same spot twice, every time going back and running through it again. At one point even, while the music was stopped, he knocked on the door gently. Jungkook made no indication that he had heard it however even though Jimin knew he had knocked loud enough for him to hear, and instead kept on repeating the same sequence of steps, each time getting more frustrated at himself until Jimin watched as his body completely sagged, as if all the air had left his lungs, and he stumbled over to the back of the room where some crumpled up clothes lay on the floor and he sank down against the wall, reaching under his sweater for a nearly empty bottle of water and tipping his head back to take a messy gulp, some water spilling out of the corners of his mouth and dripping down his jaw and the column of his neck. He didn’t wipe it away, however, and instead he just twisted the cap back on before drawing his knees up to his chest and curling in on himself.

 

Jimin could see the way his shoulders began to shake, and felt his stomach drop in his chest. He knew what it felt like to be a perfectionist under pressure but Jungkook - Jungkook had skipped grades, gotten early admission, never let his GPA drop below a 3.5. He balanced the school council, dance club, the dance performance team, vocal club, and the vocal performance team on his (well muscled) shoulders and Jimin didn’t think twice before he twisted the door handle and opened the door an inch and a half, wide enough so that he could peek in without having to stand on his tip toes but his attempt at being silent failed miserably when the door hinges squeaked loudly in the silence, and Jungkook’s head shot up.

 

He was across the room but Jimin could see that his face was blotchy and red. He opened the door another foot and stepped one foot in timidly and Jungkook’s face clouded over angrily.

“Go away.”

“Jungkookie - I - “

“I said. Go away.”

But he didn’t move when Jimin took one, two steps closer or when he sank down beside him, close enough that he was able to see the tear tracks streaking down his cheeks., and Jungkook let out a sigh when he scooched so that their shoulders and knees were nearly touching.

“Why are you here, Jimin?”

 

He didn’t sound angry anymore, just tired and exhausted, and Jimin’s heart twisted painfully.

“Honestly…” he began. “I was on my way to the gym and I took a shortcut through here and I heard the music.”

Jungkook turned his head away and stared at the floor sullenly. “You should get back to the gym, hyung. It’s more important than me.”

“Hey - “ he put his index finger underneath Jungkook’s chin and tugged at it gently until the younger boy was facing him again. “You’re stupid if you think I would rather be at the gym right now.” He murmured softly. “I’ve been watching for a while and - Kookie - you’re putting an awful amount of pressure on yourself, you know that?”

Jungkook twisted away from his grasp. “I don’t care. I should have everything down by now and I don’t and…” his voice began to waver dangerously Jimin shushed him gently.

“Kookie, we don’t need to have that piece nailed for weeks.

“I know but - “ his voice cracked on the last word and Jimin snaked his arm behind him before wrapping him into a hug. Jungkook stiffened up and then Jimin ran a hand up his back comfortingly, coming to rest at the back of his neck and that seemed to do something because the next thing Jimin knew, Jungkook was dropping his head onto his shoulder and his body was  shaking as soft, choked sobs filled the silence of the practice room, muffled by the way Jungkook’s face was pressed into his oversize hoodie.  There was a shuddering breath and then -

“I just can’t get it hyung. I’ve tried so hard but I just don’t get it and I’ve been here for the past three hours trying to get the choreo down and and I just - “ he pulled his head away to sniffle loudly, and Jimin reached up and gently brushed the tears away. “I just - I’ve never not been able to get it, you know? Last year I spent almost four nights a week in here, practicing on my own time and don’t get me wrong, I love it but… I don’t know if I should be happy with myself or disappointed that I haven’t done better.”

 

Jimin let out a soft chuckle. “Jungkookie, it’s okay .” He reached up to run his fingers soothingly through Jungkook’s shiny, sweat matted locks and the younger boy seemed to press himself into Jimin more. He wasn’t crying anymore, just hiccuping softly. “I don’t expect you to have the choreo nailed after barely running through a few times, neither does Hobi hyung. I mean shit, I choreographed the piece with Hobi’s help and sometimes I still get lost. And you know, you’ve got a lot on your plate right? When I get stressed out I go to the gym, it really helps me… but at the same time I have to be careful because…” he took a breath. “Last year I got so focused on my body that the gym didn’t become my stress reliever, it just became another source of stress. And - I got kind of obsessed with how my body looked and I ended up skipping meals and doing these really, really dumb things cause I thought they would help me look good...” he trailed off. Talking about what happened sucked and he honestly didn’t like thinking about it but it was something that he felt Jungkook would relate to. (The worst part was maybe, that in all honesty, he still sometimes thought he looked better when he was going to the gym seven days a week and skipping meals and taking laxatives.)

 

He expected a different reaction - something other than Jungkook looking up at him curiously and saying quietly, “Hyung, you’ve always had a really good body though, I’ve - I’ve sometimes watched you dance when.. when you have your shirt off,” he stuttered the last part, a soft blush colouring his cheeks, and Jimin smiled. “Well, I think you’re a great dancer, I keep an eye on you while we practice, believe me.” The younger boy’s eyes widened and Jimin continued. “See? But I know that you don’t think you’re that great and I know that I wish I looked better but we see each other differently.”

 

The corners of Jungkook’s mouth tugged down into a frown. “Sometimes I wish my abs were as good as yours though.”

“Sometimes I wish I had as much natural ability at dance as you do,” Jimin countered, and the younger boy’s cheeks finally lifted into a half smile. He straightened up from where he was still leaning on Jimin’s shoulder to grab his water bottle and take another gulp.

 

“So,” Jimin started, patting Jungkook’s knee reassuringly. “I have an idea. I know the choreo, why don’t we go through it slowly, step by step? That way we can really pick apart what’s going wrong and we can iron out any of the mistakes you’re making.”

There was a beat of silence and then,

 

“Sure,” Jungkook nodded, squaring his shoulders and taking in a deep breath. “Let’s do this!” He met Jimin’s eyes for a second as they stood up. “Thanks, hyung,” he muttered shyly.  “I knew I could count on you.”


“So, we start here, and then we move here. Right?”

“Right.”

“And then this - and then you bring your left leg here, like this and then you just roll your hips smoothly like that, perfect - and then from here you step back into this, and your hands come here, okay? Just a little bit higher, there you go.”

 

It took a little less than twenty minutes for Jimin to spot the mistake in Jungkook’s footwork, and another ten to make sure he had the correct choreography nailed down.

“Hyung, can we do this to music now?” Jungkook asked impatiently, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. “I think I’ve got it!”  

Jimin grinned. “Sure, let’s give it a shot! Do you want me to dance with you or watch?”

“You can watch.”

 

He walked over to the stereo player and hit the play button, and a heartbeat later the song began, ringing out in large practice room. It was slow, maybe slower than normal, but when Jimin had been choreographing it (with a little bit of help from Hoseok) he had made up for the slow pace with breaks of difficult, sharp movements spaced in between slow, fluid ones that looked like the dancer was moving in slow motion.

 

Say it louder, say it louder

Who’s gonna love you like me?

 

Ooh, said you wanna be good but you couldn’t keep your composure

Ooh, said you wanna be good but you’re begging me to come over…

 

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed as the difficult part came up but he managed to nail it, and Jimin was impressed, watching as the song continued and Jungkook continued to dance, his body flowing easily along with the music.

 

I don’t wanna hurt you but you live for the pain

I’m not trying to say it but it’s what you became

You want me to fix you but it’s never enough

That’s why you always call me, cause you’re scared to be loved

 

But I’ll always be there for you, I’ll always be there for you

I’ll always be there for you girl, I have no shame

 

He finishes off to where they ended in rehearsal with an extravagant body roll and before he knows it, Jimin is joining into his freestyle, grinning as he makes eye contact with the younger boy. He twists his body, and there’s something so awesome about being able to improvise on the spot that he had almost forgotten.

 

The freestyle however, is short lived as Jungkook makes his way over to the stereo in the form of a moonwalk, his shoes squeaking against the hardwood floor before he shuts it off. Jimin runs a hand through his (now sweaty) hair, laughing.

 

“That was really good.”

 

Jungkook walks over to where his sweater lays in a heap and tugs it over his head, the oversize material instantly swallowing his body and the hood almost covering his eyes but he reaches out and before Jimin realizes what’s happening Jungkook has wrapped him in a bone crushing hug.

 

“Hyung, you’re so small but you’re so solid!” He murmurs almost reverently, and Jimin tries to shove him off, pretending to be offended, but Jungkook just laughs and holds on tighter. “Thanks for helping me today… it means a lot.” He releases Jimin in favour of grabbing his water bottle, and Jimin ruffles a hand through his hair fondly, fixing some wry strands back into place before the pair make their way towards the door.

“Don’t worry about it. And by the way - “

“Hmm?”

“Those songs that you picked for a duet? Paper Hearts has one of my favourites since I was in middle school,” he admits sheepishly, and Jungkook’s face splits into a cheeky grin.


“I know.”

 

Chapter Text


It becomes a regular routine for Jin:

Wake up, courtesy of Yoongi’s alarm(s).

Shower, get dressed, make himself a cup of tea.

Avoid Yoongi - if he makes an appearance before Jin has to leave for school - unlikely.

Grab some food, make sure he has all of his books.

Meet Jungkook and Taehyung; go to class.

Make sure Jungkook and Taehyung don’t get too rowdy during lunch, remind them to do their homework.

More classes.

Walk back to his room solo. Eat food, do homework, go to vocal rehearsal.

Do more homework.

Try to avoid as many awkward situations involving Yoongi as possible.

Play one game of League of Legends - if he’s lucky.

Sleep.

Repeat.

 

Chapter Text


He’s late.

 

He’s late and it’s only Monday and he’s speed walking to class, feeling gross and hungry cause he didn’t have time to take a shower or grab some food.but he breathes a sigh of relief when he slides into his seat thirty seconds before the class starts. It’s not his fault though, it’s his teachers’ - or so he tells himself anyways.

 

Four to five weeks into classes it’s tradition to do a round of tests. Not only does it allow students to get a taste of what future tests and exams will be like in each course, but it allows for teachers to see how well their students have grasped the first few concepts of the year. Jungkook had insisted earlier in response to Jin’s stressed text messages that honestly, they aren’t actually hard, they’re just exaggerating and as long as he had been paying attention in lectures he would pass all of them, but Jin was less inclined to take the word of a goddamn prodigy and thus, he had found himself hunched over his desk until it was stupid o’clock, surrounded by papers and textbooks.At 2am he decided to call it quits and had blearily stumbled over to his bed and ended up sleeping in an hour late.

 

He’s got a plan though. Instead of spending the three hours he had free in between classes today babysitting Jungkook and Taehyung he was going to take advantage of that time and go back to his room, take a shower, and then nap. Which was a brilliant idea because the hot water streaming onto his shoulders a few hours later did wonders to ease his anxiety levels.

 

It had been quiet when he had slipped into his room, dumped his bag on his bed, and grabbed his towel and shower stuff before locking the bathroom door behind him. He supposed Yoongi was at class, and he briefly wondered what on earth his major was while lathering shampoo into his hair and watching the suds pool at his feet before being washed away down the drain, and then he realized that he actually didn’t know all that much about him. They were still on formal terms - would there ever be a point where they could drop the formalities and awkwardness? Was Yoongi older than him?

 

He stepped out of the shower and lazily rubbed the towel through his hair before wrapping it around his narrow waist and tucking the end in. He patted some moisturizer onto his skin and smiled at his reflection in the large mirror, and decided it was time for a quick bite to eat before settling down for a good hour and a half nap.


Yoongi blearily opened his eyes. He had no idea what time it was but there was quiet rustling coming from the kitchen which meant it was probably still morning and Seokjin was making some kind of food like he always did, however the bright sunlight streaming into his room said otherwise but he grunted as he flipped over onto his side and grappled for his cell phone, automatically going through the motions to check the time without actually really seeing the time and sitting up slowly.

 

Mondays were his favourite. He had two classes at the absolute end of the day, so he could sleep in as long as he wanted. Then again, he had chosen his classes carefully so that he didn’t have anything before noon and he stifled a yawn as he grabbed a baggy shirt and pulled it over his head before standing up with a sigh. The bright sunlight shone through the cracks in the window’s shutters, illuminating his boxer clad legs horribly, the reflectiveness of his pale skin causing him to mentally recoil a little as he quietly stumbled over to his door, still half asleep, before pulling it open. He needed to pee.


Th’ hell?

 

Jin jumped at the gravelly voice that suddenly sounded behind him and then promptly let out an undignified string of curses as his hand brushed against the hot edge of the frying pan he was cooking an egg in.

 

“Shit, fuck !” He dashed over to the sink and promptly turned the water on to its coldest, hissing as he stuck his throbbing hand under the icy stream, and it was only then that he turned around, blinking owlishly, to see Yoongi in the doorway of the kitchen: looking sleepy, confused, and a bit disoriented, pale legs gleaming in the sun. His eyes flicked over to the stove where the offending frying pan was sitting, the egg crackling softly as it continued to cook (almost as if it was laughing mockingly at him) before his eyes focused on Jin’s hand, still under the running water, and followed the line of his bare arm up to his clavicle and it was that moment when it struck Jin that he was half naked , a towel wrapped around his waist, and he flushed such a bright red that a quick thought entered into his head: maybe if he stuck his head under the cold water from the sink tap, it would cool the burning in his face too?

 

“I. Um.” He struggled to come up with a way that would explain everything. “Uh.”

 

Yoongi simply raised his eyebrows, the disgruntled expression on his face deepening as he surveyed the kitchen one more time, before he turned around and a few seconds later, Jin heard the sound of the bathroom door closing softly.

 

Jin quickly turned off the stove and dashed to his room, taking advantage of the opportunity and whipping off his towel in favour of tugging on a clean pair of his favourite boxers before slipping his trousers on and tugging his dress shirt over his head, hastily buttoning it up and attempting to tuck it into his pants before striding to the kitchen and pretending like his heart wasn’t pounding as he hurriedly tossed the (now overdone) egg on a plate, hearing the toilet flush and the bathroom door open.

He needed to say something. He needed to say something. Anything.

 

“Ah - um, Yoongi - “

 

The other boy was nearly at his bedroom door before he turned around at the sound of Jin’s voice interrupting him. He easily schooled his features into a mask of impassiveness, pretending that he definitely hadn’t walked in on Jin frying an egg in only a towel less than five minutes ago. (That towel, in fact, ended dangerously high on his thighs and quite honestly, now that he thought about it, Yoongi was surprised that no things had made an appearance.)

 

There was a pause.

“Yeah?”

“What’s your major?” It came out in a rush.

“Major?” He frowned. “Music; Audio production and engineering.”

“Cool,” Jin let out a small awkward laugh and Yoongi reached for his doorknob, his eyes immediately drawing attention to a stretch of bright red material that above the waistband of Jin’s uniform that flashed when he twisted to scratch his back awkwardly. He could make out half of a familiar logo: Armani. Classy bitch.

 

“I’m… gonna go back to my room now.”

Yoongi slipped back into the comfortable space that was his own, letting out a resigned sigh as he crawled back into bed and prepared to sleep for a few more hours and maybe everything that just happened would all end up being a dream.

 

Chapter Text

And just like that, Jin’s entire routine slowly slips sideways.

 

He finds himself spending more time doing homework than actually sleeping, preparing for tests. They’re being pushed in vocal rehearsal and extra hard in the performance team peices, and he doesn’t want to ask Jungkook for help because whenever the performance team stays to practice after general rehearsal is over, Park Jimin never fails to appear by the younger boy’s side, his plush lips permanently tugged up in a beaming smile, his eyes crinkling into crescents as he pokes at Jungkook’s side just to hear him squeak or chatters at him eagerly about dance stuff that Jin can’t follow along with. He had asked Taehyung the one time too but that didn’t work out so well, either. (“ I absolutely can not,” he had replied, overly dramatically, clutching a hand at his heart. “I have my amazing, beloved side hoe eagerly waiting for me in my room.” “He means his saxophone,” Jungkook had clarified with a sigh.)

 

On the bright side, however, the Frying Pan Incident  seemed to have broken some sort of awkward barrier between them and he was pleasantly surprised when Yoongi wandered into the kitchen, where he was anxiously flipping through papers and textbooks, and offered to make him some tea.

 

“Whatcha studying?” He drawled, leaning against the counter.

“Competitive strategy.”

“For three hours?” Yoongi’s eyebrows pulled together, and Jin shrugged.

“I don’t think it’s been three hours, but yeah, I guess.”

Yoongi fixed him with a look that read, clearly unimpressed.

“You were mumbling about Porter and conflict analysis when I left for a bit, which was three hours ago, and here you are still.”

Jin hadn’t even noticed that Yoongi had left their room and had come back. Whoops.  He shrugged.

“I wanna get this all down before class tomorrow,” was the only reason he could offer.

 

Yoongi placed a steaming mug of his favourite tea down on the kitchen table.

“Well, don’t stay up too late, princess needs his beauty sleep right?”

Jin frowns, not sure if that’s a compliment or not, but by the time he’s drawn up a t chart in his head and begun to mentally debate each side Yoongi’s already slipped out of the room, his bedroom door closing with a soft click.

 

He groans and rubs his tired eyes, the telltale signs of eye strain beginning to manifest in the form of a dull headache.

 


 

It’s two days later and he’s slipped into his seat and pulled out his notebook, ready to take notes for his Advanced Competitive Strategy class, feeling confident that he knows his shit when five minutes into the lecture the door opened and Jin immediately recognized the face: lo and behold, tall angry dimple boy from the first day of school strode in, acting like he owned the world and then some.

 

If that wasn’t a rotten cherry on top of the ruined cake that was quickly tipping sideways (which symbolized his school life) he doesn’t know what is.

 

“Kim Namjoon,” his teacher greeted the boy dryly. “How nice of you to choose today to be the day that you grace my class with your presence for the first time in two months. Take a seat.”

 

(Jin tucks the boy’s name into the back of his head, just in case.)

 

Namjoon gave the teacher a bright smile, his dimples deepening as he gave their a teacher a sincere bow. He almost looked innocent, which stuck Jin as odd because if he remembered correctly from their first few encounters, he wasn't even sure that the boy had the ability to give a sincere smile and….. true enough, his eyes slide over the students and then they land on Jin and although his general expression doesn’t change much, his eyes do, narrowing in the slightest and suddenly his smile looks a lot more menacing and he feels almost like he’s some sort of prey being stalked by a predator. Jin groans internally as the tall boy lazily makes his way over, praying that he won’t sit near Jin but it’s not until he gracefully lowers himself into a seat that’s a few rows behind and to Jin’s left that he allows his shoulders to relax.

 

Fucking goddamnit.

 

It’s like he’s stuck in some weird, cheesy movie but surprisingly, Namjoon doesn’t say anything to him or even glance in his direction for the better part of the class, until their teacher puts up the challenge of the week five minutes before the class ends. It’s sometimes a riddle, sometimes a brain teaser. But whoever gets the correct answer gets one percent added to their overall mark, up to a total of five percent per semester. This week’s is different one.

 

Five men were eating apples. A finishes before B, but behind C. D finished before E, but behind B. What is the finishing order?

 

Jin scribbles the letters down in his notebook, trying to visualize the problem, and then his teacher interrupts his thoughts.

 

“Yes, Namjoon?”

 

Jin’s eyes snap open as he twists to stare at the other boy, who looks almost bored, lazily spinning his pencil.

 

“I know the answer to the question to the challenge of the week.”

 

“You do?” His teacher looks surprised.

 

“C; A; B; D; E.” Namjoon drawls. “Easy.”

 

“You are correct, good job.”

 

Namjoon glances over at him and they make eye contact for the briefest second, before the boy quirks his eye challengingly and Jin drops his eyes back to his notes, his cheeks immediately heating up. Was it getting warm in here?

 

When the bell rings he hurriedly shoves all his notes in his bag and walks quickly out of the room, not daring to take another look in Namjoon’s direction.

 


 

Namjoon’s presence becomes a regular thing. The other boy is completely silent and never bothers contributing unless the teacher asks a question, to which he somehow always has the correct answer to.  Jin’s a bit impressed really - clearly the boy has brains behind his unnerving stare and full lips and flawless skin, and after a week, he almost looks forward to it: watching the clock and just as it hits five minutes into class time, Namjoon will stride in and slip up into the seat he’d claimed.

 

Jin can tell when he’s bored - on those days he’ll prop up his chin in his hand, staring seemingly unblinkingly at the projector screen at the front on the room, and some days he’s antsy - taking apart his pen and putting it back together again before twirling it around anxiously and tapping it faintly against the surface of his desk.



And he’s trying not to admit to himself that he’s a bit worried that Namjoon hasn’t been in class the past two days and he hasn’t seen Yoongi for two days either - are they connected? Is this why Namjoon randomly started showing up to class? Or maybe Yoongi was just really good at having the opposite schedule as him but food’s been disappearing in the fridge - but he really shouldn’t be thinking about this right now, of all times, as he’s fast walking across campus to the dance studios. He’s late - he was supposed to meet Jungkook after practice so they could go get food and study together but he got caught up talking to his mother on the phone and was now at least ten minutes late - he had sent Jungkook a hasty text apologizing though, and prayed that he wouldn’t be too mad.

 

The arts building had notoriously winding halls and he had a solid love/hate relationship with the explosion of artwork on the walls, abstract sculptures beside realist paintings, and maybe after the craziness that was fall showcase season and the first round of big tests, he could take an hour or two and just walk through the building slowly, taking his time to look at each one but he quickens his stride as he nears the last corner, easily navigating through students that are trudging past, and he recognizes a few of the faces as being in Jungkook’s dance club.

 

Shit , he mutters, as he rounds the corner, and promptly slams into a solid chest., the other guy letting out a small grunt as their bodies collide and there’s a hand on his arm to stop him from falling and he’s stepping back to apologize but it gets stuck in his throat when a deep voice interrupts him.

 

“Twice now, Princess? Watch yourself, yeah?”

 

He would know that voice probably anywhere, but when he looks up into Namjoon’s face the first thing his eyes are drawn to is the split in his lower lip. It looks to be a few days old, and he’s suddenly aware of a few things as his gaze focuses.

 

One. Namjoon is touching him.

Two. The hand that’s touching him has a neatly wrapped bandage around two fingers and his wrist.

Three. Namjoon surprisingly, doesn’t look mad.

Four. Is that... Park Jimin behind him?

Five. And Yoongi?

 

Six. Princess????



“I’m sorry - “ he began. “I’m late to meet Jungkook and I’m really sorry that I ran into you again and I know that I’m rambling but I really have to go - “

 

“It’s okay, hyung,” Jimin interjects brightly, unaware of the tension in the air. “Jungkookie was still cooling down when I left!”

 

“Also, ‘ princess’. What the fuck?”

 

Namjoon shrugs, his lips lifting into a small smile. “You have a pretty face.”

 

“I really - I really do not -” He’s speechless and too in shock to absorb what the hell just happened. “I gotta go,” he blurts out. “I’m sorry, again!”

 

“Bye hyung!” Jimin calls, waving cheerily as he darts out of the trio.




Yoongi gives Namjoon the side eye. “You seem to have quite an affect on him.”

Namjoon narrows his eyes, but doesn't say anything.

Chapter Text

 


 

There’s too many sweaty bodies and too many sloppy drunk people and Jimin’s probably trying to grind with Yoongi right now and Namjoon’s starting to seriously think about leaving when the person he least expects walks in wearing tight black pants and a shirt that exposed too much of his collarbones to be healthy, eyes rimmed in kohl surveying the full blown party.

 

Jin.

 

His plump lips are pursed in a frown, like he’s a bit disgusted at the sight of the crowd in front of him, the smell of booze and cigarette smoke hanging heavily in the air and honestly, Namjoon can’t really blame him.

 

Of course, he’s followed closely by his two best pals, Jeon Jungkook and Kim Taehyung, because he knows that there is no way that Jin would come to a party like this by himself, and he watches as the trio make their way to the liqueur table and pour themselves a drink.

 

“Hey hyung,” Jimin loudly interrupts his thoughts, a drink in his hand and the telltale signs of a flush on his cheeks from the alcohol.  There's a cheeky smirk on the boy’s round face, his teeth flashing in the dim lighting. “You see who just arrived?”

 

Namjoon looks down at the smaller boy and gives him a dangerous grin in response. “Of course,” he replies easily.

 

Jimin holds his hand out for a first bump. “Go get em, tiger!” He gives Namjoon a seductive wink as he yells over the music before laughing and walking away, probably on his way to find Yoongi.

 

Namjoon takes a swig out of the flask he had brought wish him - cheap vodka wasn’t really his thing so he chose to bring some of his own instead and he let out hum in content as the smooth, warm Macallan 1926 whiskey burned down his throat. Only forty bottles had been made of this particular scotch, and he had paid a almost 50 million won for each of the three bottles he had been able to get his hands on.

 

Well, time to see where the night led him.


 

Jin tries to suppress the urge to make a face as he walks straight into one of the most packed parties he’s ever gone to. Why do people even drink alcohol, he thinks to himself, as he takes two steps inside and someone immediately almost elbows him in the stomach. He resists the urge to put his fingers in his ears in an attempt at suppressing the loud, guitar heavy rock music, the singer wailing about “ cause I want it all, I can’t get enough…”

 

Ironic, this being a school full of rich boys, whom the majority in attendance at this party were probably going to be divulging in some questionable activities at some point or another during the night.

 

He looks around the crowd. There’s a flash of bright red orange hair and he would know that hair anywhere - Jimin . He should congratulate the smaller boy but his brain is only focused on one thing - Jimin’s here, which means that Namjoon must be here somewhere too, right?

 

There’s an excited shriek out of the middle of nowhere that makes him jump and suddenly someone is throwing themselves at Taehyung, and Jin watches with wide eyes as Taehyung claps the boy on the back and greets him enthusiastically. He’s around Jungkook’s height,  dressed in bright, white skinny jeans that highlight his slender legs and match the loose, white shirt he was wearing that hung off his wrists and nearly covered the leather fingerless gloves that covered his hands. His black hair was tousled effortlessly and there was a dangerous looking visual kei style face mask hanging around his neck and he greeted Jungkook just as enthusiastically, and needless to say when the boy turns to him and gives him a scrutinizing look, his dark, smudged eyes scanning him from head to toe, he was a bit nervous. Jin figured there might be a chance that this new boy could be dangerous -

 

Until he broke out into a thousand dollar, super bright smile and suddenly he appeared harmless as he stuck out his hand, and Jin went to shake it but then was surprised when the boy tugged him in and wrapped an arm around him, hugging him tight for a second, the studs on the mask pressing into him just the slightest bit, before pulling away. Jungkook watched, a bemused expression on his face as he caught Jin’s bewildered confusion.

 

“Jin hyung, this is Jung Hoseok. Hyung, this is Kim Seokjin, he transferred here like, a week in.” he introduces them after Hoseok pulls away.

“Yooooo,” Hoseok drawles. “Call me Hobi, yah? TaeTae, why does Jungkookie always have to do all the work?” He scolded him, swatted at the younger boy’s head and making a bad attempt at an unimpressed face, before breaking out into a grin again, his eyes crinkling as they filled with mirth. Jin wonders if he’s ever stopped smiling. Hoseok seems to be the touchy-feely type, full of endless energy, and Jin can only stand there and accept his affections helplessly as Hoseok coos at him and pinches at his cheeks. He widens his eyes in alarm and looks to Taehyung for assistance, but said boy has a hand covering his mouth, his eyes curved in crescents as he hides his laughter.

“Hyung is a third year, and he’s also the choreographer for our dance team, speaking of -” Jungkook exchanges a high five with him.

“We won, baby! Woohoo! That’s what I’m talking about! Awwwwwwww yeah!” Hoseok breaks out wildly into an improvised dance, popping to the music that’s blasting, and then someone cat calls a  “ get it, Hobie!”  and Hoseok is dancing his way out of their little group so he can go cling to someone else, but before he leaves he quickly darts over and gives Jin another hug, patting him on the arm reassuringly.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he laughs. It’s loud and Jin wonders how much time he spends brushing his teeth. “If you get along with that rascal Kookie, I’m sure we’ll get along just fine!”

 

And then Jung Hoseok is gone, whirling into the crowd with a whoop and a flourish of his arms and a waggle of his hips.

 

“Damn, he’s something,” he whispers, incredulously, and Taehyung finally breaks out into a giggle.

“He hasn’t even had anything to drink yet either, hyung,” Jungkook takes a sip of the red solo cup he’s magically conjured. “Wait till you see him when he loosens up even more!” He grins.

“Speaking of drinks, hyung,” Taehyung interrupts. “Where’s yours?”

“I - uh - “ he stammers, and the two younger boys don’t accept his excuse that he doesn’t really like to drink alcohol much and instead, they drag him over to the aptly named booze table before disappearing into the crowd.

 

Vodka is gross .

 

Instead he chooses to pour a splash of rum into a clean cup before filling it the rest of the way with Coke, tossing a few ice cubes in for a good measure before taking a sip and exhaling as the drink slides down his throat with a warm burn that ignites a slow burning fire in the pit of his stomach.

 

The problem was, alcohol urged him to divulge into repressed thoughts and gave him courage to to the things that he didn’t have the balls to on a day-to-day basis. He turned around, deciding to find Jungkook and Taehyung again but the raven haired boy and his barely taller counterpart were nowhere to be seen. It was one of those things that he had been told as a kid: if you ever get lost, stay where you are. So he did.

 

God knows how many drinks and minutes later, he’s definitely feeling more than a little warm, loose enough to sway his body to the music without feeling embarrassed about his lack of coordination and this is about the time where he’d start looking for someone tall, dark, and handsome, and then there’s a low clearing of his throat behind him and, speak of the devil, he turns around to find Namjoon standing behind him, probably trying to get to the booze table he was standing in front of. And normally he wouldn't say anything but the alcohol was making him bolder than he normally was. They don't call it liquid courage for nothing.

 

“Hey.” He narrows his eyes as he stares up into the other boy’s handsome face. “You're the dude that likes watching me aren't you? Namjoon, right?” He raises an eyebrow challengingly and feigning like he hasn’t definitely. on more than one occasion, murmured the other boy’s name out loud, wrapping his tongue around the syllables of his name experimentally to see how it feels. He does a quick one-over. Namjoon’s pants seem to have been tailored perfectly to accentuate his long ass legs, and there’s a low thrum of arousal in the base of his stomach, fueling the flame already started by the alcohol in his system. Namjoon looks damn good and he fully knows it.

 

There's a smirk playing around the corner of Namjoon’s mouth. “ Wow , Jin. I'm impressed.” Jin definitely - absolutely - does not feel goosebumps prickle across his body, his body heating up to an unbearable temperature in a weird sense of pride and arrogance from the way those four words drip off Namjoon’s tongue in a seductively low purr. “You're very…. mouthy . You know, Yoongi told me a bit about you but really, this is a nice surprise. You had me convinced you were just an innocent thing but you know -” he pauses and his eyes flick over Jin’s body, glittering with such an intensity that Jin feels a flush spreading across his cheeks. He knows he's playing a dangerous game, dancing with the devil, but it makes him feel giddy. Powerful. Excited.

Namjoon’s smouldering, heavy lidded eyes smudged in kohl linger on his hips a tad too longer than necessary before dragging themselves back to his face. “I think I like this version of you much better,” he finishes, almost thoughtfully if it wasn't the predatory gleam in his eye.

 

Jin smirks. “Too bad you’d have to play a little nicer in order to have a chance with me.”

 


 

Five hours earlier.

 

Jin just had to tug on a shirt and then he was out the door, tucking in an earbud and cueing music on his phone as he hit the pavement in a brisque walk, his shoes sounding loudly against the sidewalk. It was officially fall showcase time, and he was on his way to see the dance club’s because he knew that his friends would kill him otherwise. (“You’ve never seen him dance, hyung, trust me you’ll want to see this. His body is liquid gold,” Taehyung had sighed enviously over Jungkook’s apparently god like dancing abilities.)

 

He slides into the auditorium in time, finds a good seat, and watches in anticipation as the spots fill up quickly around him.

 


 

Four hours earlier.

 

The showcase was in an interesting format, the dance clubs of both schools presenting their repertoire before the main event happened: the dance off. The performance teams would take turns, battling it out against each other in front of a panel of judges and then at the end of the night, one of them would be crowned the winner.

 

Jin cheered a little louder when the lights dimmed and the ambience music faded to the beginning beats of something a little more hard hitting, sharp snares in between a heavy bass line that was building anticipation, the crowd already beginning to buzz.

 


Three hours earlier.

 

Watching a lean, tanned body in white jeans accompanied by a striking, confident redhead that looked suspiciously like Park Jimin battle it out on the dance floor was nothing short of incredible, the adrenaline racing in his veins and it was times like this that he desperately wished that he could actually dance .

 


 

Two and a half hours earlier.

 

The redhead rips his tank top in half, exposing an incredibly lean, muscular body, and that’s the moment that Jin confirms that it is indeed Park Jimin on that stage, from the chant that begins to run through the crowd as : “ Ji - min! Ji - min! Ji - min!”

 


One and a half hours earlier.

 

“We did it!” Jungkook is squealing loudly as he jumps up and down excitedly. He’s covered in sweat but neither him nor Taehyung really care, too elated to tell him to calm down. “God, hyung! The afterparty is gonna be even more amazing since we fucking won !”

 

Jin pauses. “Afterparty?”

 

One hour earlier.

 

“Taehyung, I’m a man, I can put on eyeliner by myself,” he scolds, and Taehyung removes the offending eyeliner that he was holding dangerously close to Jin’s eye.

 

“But - “ he pouts.

 

“No buts.” He grabs the stick of kohl and peers into the bathroom mirror, leaning across the counter to get a closer look as he draws a smooth line on one eye and then the other.

 

“Taetae!” Jungkook shouts from the kitchen of their shared dorm room. “Should I matchy-matchy or go contrasting?”

 

“Matchy-matchy!” The other boy shouts back, before inspecting Jin’s eyeliner job.

 

“Not bad, hyung. You look pretty fucking hot .” He licks his lips teasingly just as Jungkook barges in.

 

“Taeyhyung - “ he begins to scold, and then Jin turns around and the youngest stops mid sentence, eyebrows lifting disbelievingly. “Jesus christ,” he whispers reverently. “Can I just do one thing?”

 

Jin stills obediently as Jungkook reaches out and swipes at the corner of his eye gently, smudging the inky dark colour into his lower lashes.

 

“Excellent,” Taehyung declares. “Cmon, let's go!"

Chapter Text


Present.

 

Yoongi stumbled into the bathroom, desperately needing to pee. But the first thing that caught his attention was the pair of well muscled thighs and the holy mother of god hot damn ass of a dude who was bent over the sink. His quads strained at the material of his leather pants impressively, and Yoongi was immediately self conscious of his own slender thighs. He was unable to see his face due to the shitty bathroom lighting and the boy’s sweat soaked bangs that hung into his eyes. Something struck him as familiar about about him, but Yoongi was sure he didn't know him. He'd remember legs and an ass like that.

 

And then he almost choked as the boy stood up, suddenly exuding confidence, and made eye contact with him in the mirror and everything fell into place. Holy fucking Jesus.

 

Jeon Jungkook stared at him coolly, quirking an eyebrow saucily when Yoongi’s eyes flickered down for a second to make sure it was actually him, cause damn, that body, before -

 

“Well, if it isn't the one and only Jeon Jungkook,” he drawled, meeting the other boy’s steady gaze as he turned around to face him. “I can see why Jiminnie likes you so much…” He smirked as Jungkook’s composure wavered, unsure of what Yoongi meant, a look of uncertainty flashing in his eyes before he pulled himself together and straightened up.

 

Alcohol had an affect on people.

 

“I -I don't know what you're talking about,” the younger boy said, his dark eyes narrowing.

“Sure ya don't.” Yoongi took two steps closer. “I heard him talking in his sleep once and he moaned your name… You know, if your boyfriend can't satisfy you I bet Jiminnie would love to play with you a little bit…” Jungkook visibly swallows, the muscles in the column of his neck shifting, but his eyes don't break the contact with Yoongi’s hooded ones. The older boy stepped closer more, curious to see how far he could push Jungkook. He hadn't really planned on doing anything tonight but Jungkook seemed affected by his words, whether it was the alcohol in his system or not, he didn't know, but what he did know is that when he drank, he got horny. And this was a perfect opportunity. Two steps more had Jungkook backing into the row of sinks behind him, Yoongi casually reaching his arms out and effectively caging him in.

 

“Let me tell you a secret.”

It dripped off his tongue and Jungkook stood still for a second before he obliged, hunching his shoulders just a smidge and turning so Yoongi could put his mouth up to his ear.

 

I'm curious about you, Jungkookie.” He purred quietly, directly into the younger boy’s ear canal. Jungkook suppressed a shudder, his knuckles turning white as his grip tightened on the sink behind him. “Would Jimin be able to satisfy you? How about me?” He pressed his hips in slightly - and found exactly what he was looking for, the impressive bulge in the front of Jungkook’s leather pants. Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat and he tried to turn his head so Yoongi couldn't whisper in his ear but Yoongi slid a hand up his well muscled back and tugged on a handful of his sweat matted hair, forcing him to stay where he was. The veins in his neck were beginning to show, straining with effort to fight the grip in his hair.

 

I bet you’d be a good boy for me,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a low growl, the slur of his Daegu accent slipping out. Jungkook finally broke eye contact, his eyes fluttering closed and his breath catching in his throat. There was no aura of overpowering confidence anymore. Yoongi heard a quiet whine come from the back of his throat.

 

Interesting.

 

But everything was interrupted with a loud bang on the bathroom door and a loud, drunken shout filtered through, and just like that the spell was broken, Jungkook’s eyes flying open, confusion, fear, and arousal flashing through his pupils, and then he quickly twisted away from the older boy.

 

“I - I gotta….. I gotta go,” he stuttered uncertainly, quickly shifting his pants and underwear around so his (substantial) bulge was less noticeable. He ducked his head, bright pink painting itself across his cheeks as he quickly walked out of the bathroom. Yoongi slumped against the sinks and tried to calm down.

 

A few seconds later, none other than Park Jimin himself strode drunkenly into the bathroom. His eyes landed on Yoongi, taking in his flushed appearance and messed up hair and the not so subtle bulge visible in his baggy jeans. He wet his lips seductively.

 

“Hey, hyung,” he purred, smirking, and when Yoongi met his gaze, hungry and heavy and half lidded, Jimin felt the heat curl in the base in his stomach.

 


 

If there was one thing that Taehyung liked, it was the crazy energy parties always had. He loved meeting all the people and dancing to the shitty music, (actually, tonight so far hadn’t been all that bad actually) being a part of the wild atmosphere, and it was certainly a worthy occasion - the dance showcase had gone amazingly well and everyone had loved it. The other thing that he loved was how everyone managed to loosen up a little with some booze in their system, and case in point, Jungkook appeared in front of his face, flushed and sweaty, grabbing his hand and tugging him onto the throng of people dancing.

 

“C’mon, dance with me babe,” he shouted, tossing a saucy wink in Taehyung’s direction.

Taehyung grinned and grabbed his hips, his sinful hips, and pulled them flush against his, Jungkook’s sweaty, solid back pressing into his chest as they began to grind to the heavy beat of the song that was nearly causing the floor to vibrate. Jungkook raised his arms above his head, letting the music flow through his body as he rolled his hips from side to side, arching his back in a way that would have been sinfully sexy if not for the dozen of other people around them, borderline pressing into their space, so Taehyung closed his eyes and just let the feeling of the music and Jungkook pressing into him fill his veins, swiping his tongue quickly across his lip before tugging it in between his teeth, his dick stirring slightly in his pants.

 

But then there was someone brushing a finger over the fine hairs on the back of his neck, and his eyes snapped open as he twisted his head to find Hoseok grinning devilishly at him, a curious glint in his eye and Taehyung,s body couldn’t help but respond, giving him a lopsided, inviting smile. Hoseok was always effortlessly sexy without trying, and when he did try he became sex on two legs and it wasn’t really fair. Taehyung was about to shout over the music to ask him what was up when suddenly Hoseok was moving in front of them and slipping one of his knees in between Jungkook’s legs, effectively sandwiching the younger boy between their bodies, and holy fuck . Hoseok matching the rhythm of their hips easily as he made eye contact with Taehyung and they shared a look, Hoseok silently asking if this was okay and Taehyung silently telling him it was, cocking his head in a crooked smirk as he realized the game that the older boy wanted to play.

 

Jungkook’s hips faltered when Hoseok came and pressed his body into his though, and Taehyung tightened his grip on the younger boy’s hips a fraction, soothing him, and Jungkook shuddered, dropping his head back onto Taehyung’s shoulder, his eyes fluttering closed and mouth dropping open, and Taehyung watched as Hoseok’s eyes followed the line of his jaw and dragged down, drinking in the sight of his sweat slicked skin and the thick vein that  was beginning to strain, before he’s looking at Taehyung now from underneath half lidded eyes and he’s winding his arms and pulling the three of the closer together. His hands find purchase in the back of Taehyung’s shirt, gripping there for a second before they drifted to his ass, giving an experimental squeeze and then they’re sliding back up to his hips, one of his fingers hooking under the waistband of his pants and dragging teasingly along heated skin and Taehyung has to fight back the groan that’s threatening to bubble out of his throat.

 

He knew Hoseok was pretty sexually ambiguous and he also knew that his body was sinfully delicious: lean and muscular with an easy aura of confidence around him but shit.

 

He could definitely get used to this .