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Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast

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The speaker above the door croaks out a pathetic, feminine welcome. The speaker mostly emits static and crackle but somewhere in there are well wishes. Jungkook gives Jimin a two-fingers salute. The other mimics it boredly, barely looking up from the video he’s watching on his phone. Beside him, a small fan whirrs way, doing its best to battle the heat. Summer is in full swing and as always, it’s relentless.

Jungkook heads to the chilled section of the campus convenience store and eyes up the remaining kimbap flavours. He grabs two of the triangles (kimchi and ham will have to do) then heads for the aisle of ramen. A boy with red hair and tanned skin is crouched at the end of of the aisle, restocking shelves. He grins widely at Jungkook (it’s oddly rectangular-like but Jungkook has to admit it’s kinda cute) and Jungkook swears his eyes flash blue for the briefest of moments before the boy is looking away again, whistling to himself as he rips open a box of ramen. Jungkook grabs Yoongi’s favourite then heads to the counter to pay, scooping up two packets of chips on the way.

“Who’s the redhead?” he asks, tipping his goods onto the counter.

Jimin’s head jerks up, brow furrowed. “Redhead?”

Jungkook raises a brow and jerks his thumb back over his shoulder. “Yeah. Redhead. Restocking the ramen.”

Jimin still looks confused but slowly begins scanning Jungkook’s items. It seems to dawn on him because he goes “oh” then tells Jungkook, “Kim Taehyung.”

“He goes to college here?”

“Yup,” Jimin says, popping the p sound. He holds up a bag and Jungkook shakes his head.

“I haven’t seen him before. He seems kind of hard to miss.”

Jimin shoots a look in Taehyung’s general direction. “You’d be surprised.”

Jungkook raises a brow and scoops up his purchases. “Ok,” he says slowly. “Well. I’ll catch you later. You going to Namjoon’s Saturday night?”

That grabs Jimin’s attention. He grins. “Fuck yeah. I had two assignments due this week. There’s a good few bottles of beer with my name on them.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Right. See you then. Oh, and I’ll say hi to Yoongi for you. Tell him how fucking -”

Jimin goes red right up to the tips of his ears. “Fuck off!”

Jungkook smirks and wiggles his brows at Jimin as he shoulders the door open. Outside, as he walks past the store, he sees Taehyung has joined Jimin at the counter. Jungkook slows his walk to watch. Jimin has one hand on the counter, the other on his hip. Taehyung is grinning widely at him, then laughs at something Jimin says. Jimin reaches forward and tugs at a lock of Taehyung’s hair. He looks exasperated, but still a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. Taehyung makes to respond but spots Jungkook through the window. His demeanour changes entirely, smile looking decidedly less boxy as one side of his mouth curls upwards in a slow, dangerous smirk.

Jungkook licks his lips and quickly averts his eyes. As he speeds up, he can’t help but glance back. Taehyung is laughing. Again, Jungkook thinks he sees his brown eyes flash blue.




“Yo,” Yoongi calls out as Jungkook steps into their dorm room.

Jungkook throws the ramen at where the older boy is stretched across his bed, then moves to his own bed and tears open the first kimbap. He mutters a curse when he pulls too hard on the last bit of plastic, and the seaweed nearly completely unravels. He packs it all back into place then takes a bite. “Your fuckbuddy was there,” he says around his mouthful.

Yoongi glares at him. “Fuck off. Bet you don’t say that to his face.”

“Nah,” Jungkook agrees. “I’ve got better names for him.”

Yoongi sighs. “Shut your face, brat, and just finish your kimbap. You’re spitting rice everywhere.” He sits up and makes grabby hands. Jungkook throws the other kimbap at him. “Seokjin still carries on about how shy and sweet you are. If only he knew better.”

Jungkook snorts. “And Seokjin still thinks you and Jimin have yet to get anywhere, hyung.”

Young’s attention drops his gaze and rubs the back of his neck. He winces. “Uh, yeah, well.”

Jungkook raises a brow. He swallows his mouthful. “Hyung, you’re blushing.”

Yoongi scowls at that. “I don’t fucking blush.”

“Jimin does. Flushes realllll nicely.” A pillow comes hurtling towards him. Jungkook ducks it easily. “You’re too easy, hyung.”

“Jesus Christ, Golden Maknae ain’t so fucking golden.”


Jungkook shrugs. “You know who Seokjin blames.”

Yoongi sighs. “Yeah, yeah. I got a potty mouth and all that shit.”

“Now, about Seokjin not knowing…?”

Yoongi eyes him up. Jungkook blinks back innocently as he takes another bite from his kimbap. Yoongi points a threatening finger at him. “This… does not leave this room.” When Jungkook’s eyes light up, lips curling into a smirk against his own will, Yoongi barks out his name.

“All right, all right,” Jungkook says, rolling his eyes. “Spit it out.”

“Remember the party couple of weekends ago?”

“At Chanyeol’s?”

“That’s the one. Baekhyun didn’t really warn us that the lock on the bedroom door was faulty and - “

Jungkook’s mouth falls open. “Get fucked. He walked in on you.”

“Shut your mouth, it’s disgusting,” Yoongi mutters, taking an angry, embarrassed bite of his kimbap. “And he only walked in on us because he and Namjoon were getting all handsy with each other and wanted the room themselves.”

“They both walked in on you? Oh my god!” Jungkook rocks backwards with his laughter, tears collecting in the corners of his eyes. He bangs his head against the wall but hardly takes notices. “Holy shit, hyung.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just don’t tell Jimin I told you.”

“Oh - “

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“I’m not giving this opportunity up.”

“Jeon Jungkook!”

“Imma race down there right now and - ah, fuck, never mind. Taehyung’s there.”

“Kim Taehyung?” Yoongi stands up to grab one of the packets of chips.

“Yeah. Red hair?”

Yoongi’s reaction is identical to Jimin’s. “Red hair?”

“You all going colour blind in your old age?”

“Watch it, brat,” Yoongi warns as he sits back on his bed and rips the packet open. He pegs a chip at Jungkook. “Respect your elders.”

“Respect is earned, hyung.”

“You’re insufferable. Anyway, Kim Taehyung. Red hair?”

Jungkook frowns and leans his back up against the wall. “Yeah. Is it really all that strange?”

Yoongi looks thoughtful. A little concerned, even. Jungkook tips his head forward to try catch Yoongi’s gaze. The fuck has him so serious about a college student called Kim Taehyung with red hair and tanned skin and a boxy grin and - Jungkook blinks then frowns some more. He can hardly recall what his first ‘girlfriend’ in middle school looked like, yet Taehyung’s face comes up vivid and bright in his memory.

Jungkook shakes his head. “Yo, hyung. Why the face?”

Yoongi comes out of his thoughts but doesn’t reply. Just offers Jungkook a tightlipped smile and shovels another handful of chips into his mouth.



Jungkook and Jimin rock up to Namjoon’s together. They crush their empty beer cans and toss them onto the lawn, before stepping up the front porch. The bass seeps through the walls and permeates the night air. Jimin shoulders the door open and Jungkook follows him in. The front hallway is dark and unlit, but the pair navigate it with ease. They come across the main living. The kitchen light is on, island bench covered with mixers and spirits. Someone opens the fridge to reveal shelves full of chilled beer. The couches have been pushed up against the wall, and purple light from the DJ’s kit spills onto the floorboards. Bodies grind together. Voices chorus together too loudly, even over the sound of the music. Jungkook twists to avoid the three girls running past him, giggling together. The sliding doors to the porch are wide open. A game of beer pong is in action. The crowd on the left cheer loudly as a cup is sunk.

Hoseok spots them first. He raises his cup and gestures them over. He and the others are crowded in the kitchen, pouring a set of drinks. Hoseok passes one to Jungkook, then to Jimin, knocks his cup to theirs, then downs his drink. Jungkook smirks and follows suit. When he tips his head back down and wipes his wrist over his lips, he meets a pair of dark eyes. It takes Jungkook a moment, but he realises it is Kim Taehyung watching him with a deceptively uninterested gaze. He has one arm draped on the bench, the other propped up so that he can rest his chin in his hand. He blinks slowly at Jungkook, then smirks even more slowly. The lean of his body causes the loose collar of his t-shirt to hang, showing off sharp collarbones and a tanned chest.

Jungkook finds himself drawn in despite himself.

Junkook only notices the cigarette dangling between the other’s long fingers when he lifts it to his lips and takes a drag. Taehyung blows smoke rings at him over the bench.

“Who,” he says, followed by another smoke ring. “Are you?”

Taehyung’s hair, no longer red but brown, seems to throw shades of blue.

“Enough of that,” Yoongi mutters, snatching the cigarette from Taehyung and taking a long drag himself. He breathes the smoke out through his nose and slides his palm under the back of Jimin’s shirt. “Namjoon, get on with the fucking tequila shots.”

Namjoon grins and cracks his neck. Seokjin lines up the shot glasses then gestures for everyone to hold out their hands. Jungkook meets Taehyung’s gaze across the bench as the other licks a stripe over his hand then holds it out for Seokjin to shake salt onto. Taehyung raises a brow, rolling his lower lip between his teeth. Something stirs in Jungkook’s stomach and his breath leaves him quietly. He snaps to attention when Hoseok thrusts a wedge of lime into one of his hands, and a shot glass into the other. The glass is filled to the brim and the alcohol drips down over Jungkook’s fingers onto the bench. There’s already a good puddle of tequila collected on the counter from Namjoon’s sloppy bartender skills.

“Now,” Namjoon says, holding his shot glass high in the air. Everyone joins him, glasses clinking together. “Before we start, y’all know the rules. A shot for every half hour you’re late.” His gaze slides left, to Jimin. “Jimin?”

Jimin puffs out his cheeks. “When the fuck was it even supposed to start?”


Jimin look at Jungkook and shrugs. “Guess that’s four for you and I, Kookie.”

Jungkook grins. “Done.”

“You too, Taehyung,” Seokjin says, pretty pink lips curling up into a smirk. “Hoseok? Yoongi?”

“Three,” Hoseok says, smile outshining the sun as fucking always. “For us both.”

“All right, men,” Namjoon says. “Here’s to getting fucked.”

The group let out a whoop of excitement, lick the salt from their hands and down their shot. Jungkook grimaces and sucks on his lime. Across from him, Taehyung is licking his lips. The guy reaches across and takes Jungkook’s lime from him, shoving it into his own mouth. He grins at Jungkook, lime skin for teeth. Jungkook shakes his head.

Taehyung laughs, popping the sour fruit out, revealing a row of pearly whites. “One down,” he says. “Pour up, hyung.”

They drink the next shots in quick succession. Jungkook can feel the alcohol warming his gut. He licks the excess salt of his hand then makes the stupid mistake of licking his lips, catching the last few drops of the tequila. Taehyung notices and hands him a lime wedge. He is quick though. Scarily quick. When Jungkook makes to take the lime, Taehyung lets him, but snatches up his wrist.

“Come dance with me. Now.”

Jungkook smirks and nods.

“Hoseok?” Taehyung calls, rounding the bench to drag Jungkook to the dance floor.

“Later,” Hoseok calls back.

“Good,” Taehyung says, grinning slyly at Jungkook and fuck he’s hot with his lips wet with tequila and lime juice and fuck is a face like that allowed a voice that deep?

He drags them through the mass of moving bodies, right to the middle. Jungkook admires the line of his shoulders as he follows behind. Taehyung turns to face him. The dance lights flicker over his face in abstract patterns and there’s something so sinfully dangerous about him. The lights glint off the impossible darkness of his eyes and do nothing to brighten them.

Taehyung steps into him, hips swaying, hands lifting above his head. He looks at Jungkook through his lashes. “Kim Taehyung.”

Jungkook tilts his head and smirks. He knows how to play this game - really fucking well. He steps even closer to Taehyung, drops his lips by the other’s ear. “I know who you are, Kim. Tae. Hyung.” He pulls back, meets the intensity of Taehyung’s gaze head on. Dangerous, his mind prompts again. “Jeon Jungkook.”
Interest is sparking in Taehyung’s gaze. He steps back, dancing away from Jungkook enough to appraise him properly. His lips curl, giving Jungkook one last approving glance, before he closes his eyes and loses himself in the music.



Taehyung stares. His hair sweeps down over his brow and his eyes are too intense for a face so lax. Jungkook smirks, leaning in closer. Taehyung’s eyes have gone a little red and his lips part so that a pink tongue can swipe over them. His eyes look like they may be watering slightly and suddenly Jungkook wonders what it would be like to have Taehyung under him, looking up at him with teary eyes and flushed cheeks and swollen lips and ok so he may be a little drunk but the guy’s voice is so deep and his eyes are so intense right now and Jungkook just wants to ruin his stoic composure and completely wreck him.

“Aha!” Taehyung shouts, startling Jungkook into pulling away. “You blinked!”

Jungkook blinks once, twice, then, “fuck off, I did not!”

“You totally fucking did.” Taehyung laughs gleefully, handing the cup out to him. “Fucking drink.”

Jungkook makes a noise of disgust and takes the cup from him. He peers dubiously at its contents, fishes out the ping pong ball, and downs the drink. On the other side of the table, Hoseok grins and Yoongi rolls his eyes, muttering something about ‘fucking finally’.

Taehyung cackles. “How’s it taste?”

“Fucking potent,” Jungkook groans, wiping his wrist over his mouth and setting the empty cup aside. He passes the ping pong ball to Taehyung. “Take your shot.”

Taehyung takes the ball in one hand and grabs Jungkook’s forearm. He digs his hips in against the table and leans forward. “Just watch, Jungkookie,” he says, scrunching one eye closed as he lines up the shot. He pokes his tongue out and catches it between his teeth. “I’ll rescue us.”

Hoseok laughs and leans back, arms spread wide in acceptance of the challenge. “Taehyungie,” he says, “you guys only have one remaining cup.”

“And you’ve got three. Better average.”

“Doesn’t matter. Jungkook’s a shit shot,” Yoongi drawls, raising his brow.

“Nah, nah, nah,” Taehyung says, tugging on Jungkook’s arm to pull him in closer. “I have faith in Jungkookie.”

He misses the shot.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he says, still not letting go of Jungkook’s forearm. He hops from foot to foot as Hoseok lines up his shot. “Shit, shit, shit. I’m sorry, Jungkookie. I think this is the end.”

Taehyung, Jungkook has learned, is clingy, childish, weird, and - and manipulative, if he’s being honest. He has to be, with the way he’s got all the hyungs, even Yoongi, wrapped around his finger. But Jungkook finds he doesn’t mind the way Taehyung likes to clutch at his forearm in excitement, just like he doesn’t mind the way his mouth forms a rectangle and his eyes crinkle at the corners when he beams real wide or laughs real loud. Or the way that Taehyung knows how to turn into smoke and weave his way through the crowd, throwing teasing glances over his shoulder as Jungkook follows, entranced by the danger and the promise in his gaze.

This time Jungkook doesn’t picture Taehyung under him. He pictures him over him, with eyes that are blue and pupils blown too wide and red hair and - Taehyung’s hand tightens considerably around his arm. “Fuck!”

Jungkook blinks, coming out of his daze. Apparently he missed Hoseok taking the winning shot.

Taehyung sighs dramatically and takes the three cups Hoseok and Yoongi pass to him. He adds them to their last cup - their sunken cup - and then passes one to Jungkook before taking one for himself. He holds his up. “Here’s to being fucking awful at this game, Jeon Jungkook. Cheers.”

They knock cups then gulp the liquid down. Taehyung’s dark eyes meet his over the rim of their cups, and Taehyung’s lips curl.



Taehyung is dragging him through the crowd again, fingers warm around Jungkook’s wrist. He throws glances over his shoulder at him occasionally - each time he does it, he’s biting his lip. Partly out of excitement, partly intentionally, Jungkook is sure because it’s driving him fucking mad. Taehyung trips over a girl’s foot and Jungkook quickly reaches out to steady him. He takes Taehyung’s weight against his chest and Taehyung giggles quietly to himself, beaming up at Jungkook.

“Such a hero, Kookie,” he purrs, tilting his head and looking up at Jungkook through his lashes - a sharp contrast to the giggles from 30 seconds ago. Blue light sweeps over his face and Jungkook swears he sees ripples in Taehyung’s eyes. But as always, Taehyung blinks and it’s gone.

They spot Hoseok on the other side of the crowd, waving them over. Yoongi and Jimin stand beside him, intwined with each other. Jimin can’t seem to press himself tighter to Yoongi’s side. Beyond them, Seokjin and Namjoon in the kitchen. Seokjin has one hand folded over his chest while the other massages at his temple as he watches very drunk Namjoon attempt to pour another round of shots.

Jungkook glances down at Taehyung then decides it’s his turn to call the shots (even when drunk, Jungkook can still be punny). He takes a firm grip on Taehyung’s wrist and tugs him after him as he cuts through the last of the crowd. When he glances back, Taehyung’s dark gaze is depthless and there’s a red tint to his hair, even under the purple light.

“Took you long enough,” Hoseok chirps, wiggling between them both to throw an arm around their shoulders and lead them to the kitchen. “Time for more tequila.”

“Running out of lime,” Namjoon says, voice too loud. He stands in open doorway of the fridge, mouth and eyes both wide. “We’re running out of lime.”

Taehyung’s long fingers wrap around a shot glass and one of the lime slices. “Not a problem,” he coos. He holds the shot to Jungkook, who raises a brow and takes it down. When Jungkook goes looking for his slice of lime, he finds Taehyung’s fingers dancing over his wrist, asking for attention. He turns to the older boy, is met with a smile made of lime skin that quickly gets pulled back into a red, red mouth, and he smirks. He slides a hand around the back of Taehyung’s head and connects their mouths. His tongue delves in, fishing for the lime. He tugs it into his own mouth and pulls back. Taehyung gazes back at him. Blue stains the edges of his irises as his lips curl.

“Very good, Kookie,” he says lowly, stepping in closer to Jungkook.

Arousal curls in Jungkook’s stomach and his skin tingles where it brushes over Taehyung’s. It makes him squirm because he wants to touch. He pushes the lime to the side of his mouth so he can speak around it. “Better hurry and take your shot. We’ll be out of tequila next.”

Taehyung inclines his head then reaches behind him for the shot glass. How he doesn’t knock anything over is beyond Jungkook, but he doesn’t care - is too focused on the way Taehyung’s throat elongates and reveals itself when he knocks the shot back. And when Taehyung makes to take the lime from Jungkook, his lips taste of tequila and Jungkook can feel them curve against his own.

Dangerous, dangerous, dangerous.

Taehyung pulls away, laughing. His fingers still haven’t left Jungkook’s wrist. Even when he turns to face the rest of the group, crowing about his excellent idea and demanding Namjoon pour more shots, his fingers are secure - possessive - around Jungkook’s wrist.

Jungkook feels the arousal in his stomach climb up inside his ribs and curl around his lungs.

Another shot is pressed into his hands and as he takes it down, holding the glass with his left hand, Taehyung is beside him, downing his own shot, and tugging on Jungkook’s wrist, pulling him over, pulling him in - Jungkook sighs into his mouth, sucking the lime behind his teeth. They move too fast and stumble a bit. Taehyung giggles into his mouth and curls his fingers around Jungkook’s hip.

“Tae’s not kidding,” Yoongi says from somewhere beside them. Jungkook pulls away to look. Yoongi is wiping the back of his wrist over his mouth, staring down at Jimin who gazes back with dark eyes and sucks on his lime slice. “Makes things more exciting. Another round, Namjoon.”

Jungkook can feel the tequila and the arousal curdling uncomfortably in his gut and their lime has lost nearly all its flavour and they haven’t even remembered the salt but Taehyung’s fingers are still around his wrist and he thinks fuck it. “Fuck the shots,” he says, grinning as he takes the bottle of tequila from the bench before Namjoon can and maybe he’s feeling too bold, too drunk, but oh well. He holds the bottle to his lips and takes a swig, pulling a face as the liquid burns down the back of his throat.

He can feel Taehyung’s gaze, hot and heavy, on the side of his face, on his lips.

He pulls the bottle away and pulls another face, grinning through his grimace.

Hoseok laughs and takes the bottle from him next. “Kookie’s got the right idea,” he says, before taking a swig for himself. The bottle rounds the group, coming to a finish at Taehyung.

He tilts the bottle so that he can read the label, thumb running circles over the bones of Jungkook’s wrist. Slowly, he grins. Jungkook thinks there’s something a little strange about it - Seokjin and Jimin apparently think so even more so, because concern washes over their expressions and Seokjin starts rambling about - about -

Jungkook’s breath leaves him as Taehyung’s gaze swings up to look at him. Blue. His eyes are blue.

Taehyung winks and his eyes are brown again. He lifts the bottle to his lips and drinks.



Jimin pulls Taehyung aside, dragging him further into the house. Jungkook pretends he isn’t keenly aware of the lack of Taehyung by his side - and when he forgets to pretend, he blames it on the alcohol. He’s dragged a stool over to the island counter and now sits around it with the others, laughing and joking and playing drinking games. He’s lost all feeling in his fingers and his reaction time is pathetic but hey he doesn’t feel sick and his eyesight seems to be functioning pretty well so yeah he’ll down another shot.

“You and Taehyung got close fast,” Seokjin comments. He’s squinting at Jungkook - actually he’s squinting just to the side of Jungkook. “I’m pleased.”

Jungkook hides a laugh behind his hand and nudges Yoongi and Hoseok, pointing out Seokjin’s wandering gaze. “Yeah, hyung,” he says, as the other two snigger beside him. “He’s all right.”

“He’s clingy,” Yoongi says, sipping from his beer. “But he’s a good kid.”

“His eyes change colour,” Jungkook says, the words slipping from his mouth before his drunken mind can weigh them properly. “It’s cool.” He puffs his cheeks and nods to himself. His hair does too. It’s cool. Jungkook likes it.

There’s a strange silence around the table and when Jungkook focuses again, they’re all kinda staring at him. He blinks a few times.

“What?” he says. “It is cool.”

“You’re drunk,” Hoseok says, jabbing him in the arm. “Brat’s so drunk.”

“Am not,” Jungkook grumbles. “I just think it’s cool.”

Seokjin smiles at him, all pretty and sweet like usual. “Jungkookie, it’s not possible for someone’s eyes to change colours.”

Jungkook considers the logic for a moment then shrugs. “I dunno. But his do. They were blue earlier.”

Yoongi raises a brow and pretends to entertain him. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. It was real quick but they were blue.”

“Real quick, huh?”

Jungkook squints at Yoongi. “Stop trying to trick me.”

Yoongi smirks and takes another sip from his beer. “Not trying to trick anyone, kid.” He drums his fingers on the bench. “But nah, I’m glad you two get along. Tae’s a good kid.”

Namjoon hums and cradles his drink. “Yeah,” he says quietly, and Seokjin rubs his back. “Real good kid.”

A strange sort of grief falls over them all that has Jungkook squirming in his seat. Something is wrong, that much he can tell. But then he catches Jimin and Taehyung joining the party again and Taehyung sends him a boxy grin and whatever concerns Jungkook had leave him completely. He waves the pair over and starts pouring them both a drink.

“Taehyung-hyung,” he says, tightening the cap on the coke before handing the drink to the older boy.

“Mm, Kookie?” Taehyung comes to stand beside Jungkook and drapes his arm over his shoulders.

Jungkook holds his cup to the group. “Tell them your eyes change colour.”

Jimin chokes on his drink, spraying it everywhere. He splutters and wipes a hand over his mouth, eyes looking around the group incredulously. But there’s a strange tightness in his expression.

Jungkook ignores it.

Taehyung laughs, low and quiet. “Yah, Kookie, how much have you had to drink?”

Jungkook pinches him. “Tell them!”

Taehyung laughs again and bats Jungkook away. “All right, all right.” He props both elbows on the counter and gestures for everyone to lean in close. “All right,” he whispers, side-eying them all. “Wanna see something cool?”

“Taehyung,” Jimin says in warning.

Taehyung waves him off. “My eyes totally change colour.”

Seokjin laughs nervously and wraps gentle fingers around Taehyung’s wrist. “Taehyungie - “

“They’ll be pink in three seconds. Ready? Three. Two. One!”

Taehyung opens his eyes comically wide. There’s a beat of silence - tense, nervous silence that Jungkook thinks is getting really common and really strange - and then everyone’s sighing and groaning and complaining and leaning back while Taehyung stares at them with big brown eyes before breaking down into laughter.

“Sorry, Kookie,” he says, arm going back around Jungkook’s shoulders. His gaze is directed down and he smiles secretively to himself before flicking his eyes in Jungkook’s direction. He laughs and squeezes Jungkook to his side. “No magic here.”



The party spirals on and Jungkook’s eyesight does start going to shit and if he’s honest the last quarter of the party is basically blank. Except for brown eyes flashing blue and brown hair tinted red - that is constant, just like Taehyung’s laugh is constant, just like Taehyung’s boxy smile and heavy gaze and warm touch are constant. Jungkook has fuzzy memories of touching more and more, of sitting on a couch and having Taehyung sit on the armrest next to him and lean over and breathe over the shell of his ear as he whispered bad jokes to him. Then there’s the startling clear memory of Taehyung falling off the armrest and crashing to the floor and Jungkook had laughed and laughed but Seokjin had gone pale and Namjoon had looked like he’d been punched in the gut and Yoongi - Yoongi and Jimin had vanished off somewhere. But Hoseok was there to laugh it off and pick Taehyung up and steady him and seat him down again.
The rest is all hazy again but Jungkook knows he can somewhat remember the rest of the group drifting off and Taehyung sliding down to sit beside him and their conversation turning low and private and then someone’s offering tequila again and Jungkook and Taehyung are taking it and Taehyung is looking at him and Jungkook is looking back and there’s the danger and promise in Taehyung’s dark depthless gaze again and then -

Taehyung’s mouth tastes like tequila but Jungkook’s sure his tastes worse. He shifts, hands sliding over Taehyung to trace his hips and cup his face and then he’s leaning his weight into Taehyung and biting on the swell of his lower lip. Taehyung hums quietly, turning pliant beneath Jungkook’s touch and he can’t believe they’re making out on the couch like teenagers.

“Your eyes are blue,” Jungkook thinks he said, breathing the words over Taehyung’s mouth before kissing him again.

And Jungkook is pretty sure Taehyung had laughed and spoke the words into his mouth: “Sorry, Jungkookie. Still no magic here.”



That night Jungkook has strange dreams. He dreams of a forest impossible to navigate, and teeth - no mouth, no face, no body, just teeth. They’re just floating in the air, stretched in an impossibly wide smile as they coo riddles and nonsense at him as he stumbles through the trees. The world tilts and leans oddly and he keeps falling, struggling to keep himself upright, and each time he ends up on the ground, those teeth smile wider and wider and then there’s that deranged laugh.

He wakes with his chest heaving. His alarm is blaring and he reaches for it blindly and why the fuck did he set it last night in his drunken stupor? His hands are shaking and when he tries to get out of bed, the world tips on its side and he ends up on his knees.

Yoongi comes out of their bathroom, towel drying his hair. He gives Jungkook a funny look. “How hungover are you?”

Jungkook swallows. His throat feels like sandpaper. “A lot,” he croaks, rubbing his throat. “Apparently.” Jungkook curls his fingers in his sheets. He feels like absolute shit. His stomach is lurching and his head is spinning. “Whaddya doing up so early?”

“Still slurring, huh?”

“I am not,” Jungkook mumbles, rubbing his hand over his eyes because the light fucking hurts. He breathes in deeply through his nose a few times and his hand makes its way to cup his mouth because he’s not totally certain he’s not about to puke. Sighing, he drops his hand. All right. He’s good.

Yoongi smirks. “Your lips are pretty swollen, kid. Who’d you make out with?”

“If you hadn’t been busy having a quickie with Jimin-hyung last night, you might know already,” Jungkook retorts, finally making it to his feet. He raises his brows at the hickies on Yoongi’s chest, smirking as he folds his arms over his own chest. “They’re real pretty, hyung.”

Yoongi splutters and tries to cover them with his hands. “Fuck off.”

“Jimin bit down real nice and hard for that one on your hip, hyung - “

“- shut up you little - “

“ - wonder what his final destination was?”

Yoongi groans, head falling into his hands. “Jesus Christ, what have I raised?”