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“Does your brother know you’ve been lying to people and telling them we’re dating?” 

Jungkook doesn’t have a long list of sentences that would give him a severe stomach drop, and he hasn’t made a list because his anxiety meds have been working just fine, but he thinks that, if he were to have made a list, this would definitely be inside the top five. Probably fighting for the number one spot with IU has decided to retire.

So, to put it mildly, staring wide-eyed at Kim Namjoon as his brother’s best friend has just uttered the most stomach-dropping question Jungkook has ever heard directed at him (or anyone, honestly) feels like is going to make all of that bulgogi he had for dinner come right back. Which, then, would turn this into the most surreal and embarrassing moment of Jungkook’s life. Forever.

“Are you having a stroke?” Namjoon asks when Jungkook’s silence goes on for too long. “You went a bit pale.”

How did Namjoon find that out? They don’t even go to the same university.

“Jungkook?”

They are alone in the dining room; Yoongi went to take a phone call from his girlfriend and his parents are in the kitchen. They said they didn’t need help with the dishes, but now Jungkook feels kind of like a bad son and Namjoon should be feeling like a terrible guest. 

Well, he’s barely even a guest anymore. 

When he started coming over after he and Yoongi met at University, this constant presence was met with equal parts giddiness and anxiousness by 19-year-old Jungkook, and now that he’s grown and in the last year of University, it, well— yeah, it’s still pretty much the same. 

“Did I?” Jungkook finally manages to reply and his voice comes out extremely loud and screechy, which is mortifying. “I mean, huh, excuse me?”

Namjoon lifts an eyebrow. He doesn’t look mad, which is, in a way, very surprising. Jungkook thought that, if he were ever to find out, Namjoon would immediately go to Yoongi and ask him to have a little talk with his baby brother and Jungkook would finally force Namjoon to face the fact that he is not little! He’s twenty-three and only three years his hoobae. That’s hardly an age difference that requires the word little to be involved.

“You’ve been telling people I’m your boyfriend,” Namjoon accuses, bringing Jungkook back to the reality of his worst nightmare and out of the semantics of the word little. “Haven’t you?”

Jungkook looks around the empty space, very scared his brother or one of his parents will come back to the living room, ask Namjoon what they are talking about and he will just say, upfront, that Jungkook is insane, a liar and gay as fuck. 

Which. Fair. But still.

“I—” he tries to start, but fails a little miserably. Jungkook can feel the heat coming up his cheeks and decides the only way he can get through this without dying is to look away from Namjoon’s eyes. So he does. “Well, it’s my last year at uni and my last summer being a college student, so I thought I could try going to clubs and stuff since, you know, everyone else does. But I, uh, I’d get hit on a lot which— yeah.”

“Of course,” Namjoon mutters. Not in a ‘duh, obviously’ way but in a ‘yes, go on, explain yourself to me’ way. 

Not encouraging, but can Jungkook have any say on how this conversation goes, really? He’s the psycho lying to people at college about dating his brother’s best friend. Actually, maybe Jungkook needs to be locked up for mythomania.

“I’m not really into hooking up with random people, so, uh— At first, I’d just say I’m not single, but that doesn’t really work with men, as you probably know…” Jungkook stops. “Well, I think you know.”

“Everyone knows.”

Right.

He clears his throat. This is too awkward. 

“Anyway,” Jungkook continues, mortified and pinching his arm just to make sure this isn’t actually a nightmare. “So, because of that, I just started showing them a picture of you. I say you’re a postgrad and they just leave me alone, usually. I’m not really a confrontational person, so that just works better.”

There’s a very pregnant stop, then. Jungkook can hear the clock ticking and the beating of his own heart and also his family laughing in the kitchen. Must be nice to be able to fucking smile.

“Why me?” Namjoon asks so loudly he could just hold a microphone at this point.

“I don’t know…” Jungkook replies, eyes on his own shoes. 

Now that’s one big, fat lie. Another, if you will. Jungkook knows why. He’s known why since he met Namjoon. He has been repeating the why for years. He has a diary full of whys, too. Not that Namjoon needs to ever know that. He’s been pretty much indifferent to Jungkook’s existence for the four years he’s known him, something that seemingly didn’t change after Jungkook grew his hair out and tattooed his entire fucking arm.

Unfortunately, and maybe absentmindedly, Namjoon has given him a title. A title that stops Jungkook from ever being able to become anything else to him even if — and that’s a big if — Namjoon likes boys. A title much worse than being called little. 

To Namjoon, he’s the Best Friend’s Younger Brother. Jungkook’s worst role in anyone’s life.

“You don’t know,” Namjoon repeats, skeptical.

“Namjoon-ssi, you were the first person that came to my mind, that’s all. I don’t really know that many guys around my age outside my friend group because I don’t really go out that much.” 

That’s not a lie, which will probably help in his chances of Namjoon believing him. Jungkook steals a peek at the other man’s face. Namjoon’s staring at him like he’s trying to solve a really hard puzzle piece. There’s a deep line between his eyebrows, glasses falling over the bridge of his cute nose. He looks like a teacher. Jungkook should win a medal for being able to not stare at him day-dreamingly.

“So you’re telling me half of your uni thinks you and I are boyfriends?” 

Jungkook takes a second. He forces himself to keep his gaze on him because he’s afraid that if he  stares at the floor too much Namjoon will realize he’s scared of meeting his eye.

“Well. I wouldn’t say half of my uni, really… Just queer men in my uni. Also, it’s not like everyone knows your face, I hardly ever said your name to any of them. And you go to a different uni, anyway, so.”

“Jungkook-ssi,” Namjoon chuckles breathlessly, shaking his head. He looks down, then back up at Jungkook, and there’s a mix of amusement and annoyance in his eyes. “I’m just picturing myself walking up to one of the men you showed my picture to and hitting on them. That’s so— funny, I don’t know.”

Wait. Wait a fucking second. Namjoon does like boys? It was never a big if, after all? It was really so small of an if that Jungkook took it out of him in less than 5 minutes?

Oh, no. This is bad. Jungkook can’t deal with Namjoon liking men.

It’s too much for his poor little Best Friend’s Younger Brother self. Now he’s going to have to face the fact that no matter how hot, sexy and interesting to talk to he is, Namjoon would still not go for him not because he’s straight but because he has a fucking title. 

This is horrible. Jungkook feels a bit sick.

“Why do you look so speechless?” Namjoon asks and the sound of his voice makes Jungkook jump a little. “Oh God, did you think I was straight?” 

The way he spills out the last word like it’s poison or some kind of allergy would probably make Jungkook laugh if he wasn’t going through the worst revelation of his life right now.

“Sorry,” Jungkook manages to say, taking his eyes away from Namjoon. “And sorry for— telling the demographic you like to make out with in Seoul University that we’re together. I’ll stop.” 

“No,” Namjoon counters right away. “Don’t stop.” 

Jungkook must’ve heard that wrong. 

“Excuse me?”

When Jungkook looks back at Namjoon, the older man’s cheeks are a bit flushed. He crosses his arms.

“You can keep telling people we’re dating.”

Jungkook must look very stunned because Namjoon huffs out another laugh.

“Look, it’s not supposed to be deep or anything, I just— I don’t mind, alright?”

“Oh. Okay.”

“You just— keep doing what you’ve been doing,” Namjoon continues, looking over at the door that leads to the kitchen. “It’s fine.”

He really wasn’t expecting that outcome. Namjoon keeps smiling politely. This is turning even more awkward. Jungkook clears his throat.

“How did you… uh, hear about it? I really didn’t think you would.”

“Because I’m a postgrad in a different university?”

Jungkook nods, lips tight.

“There aren’t that many queer people in Seoul, Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon chuckles. He looks him in the eye. “Well, at least not in these social circles, anyway.”

Right. Jungkook wouldn’t really know.

“I— I thought you’d be mad if you found out.”

“Why would I be mad?” Namjoon tilts his head to the side. “Because I’m friends with your brother?”

“Well—”

And, just like any big brother would, Yoongi ruins everything by coming back to the living room right at that moment. He stops next to them, bringing his eyes from Namjoon to Jungkook. 

“So, what are we talking about?” 

Wait, what are they telling Yoongi? They didn’t talk about that. Jungkook actually completely disregarded him as a factor. 

“College,” Namjoon replies before he even has time to panic. “Jungkook’s finals and his plans for the summer break.”

Jungkook blinks. He didn’t think Namjoon would lie to Yoongi about it. 

“Yeah,” Jungkook mutters, a bit dumbfounded. He looks at Yoongi. “You know how much I love summer break, hyung.”

“You never do anything during summer break,” Yoongi points out. “You say it’s good to be ready for the rest of the school year, and proceeds to lock yourself in your room for six weeks.”

Jungkook stares at him. 

“Well. I am doing a lot of things for summer break this year.”

“Like what?”

“None of your business.” 

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “I liked you better when you weren’t grown.” 

“I’ll be 24 in two months, hyung…”

Namjoon makes a low sound in his throat, placing a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder. 

“Jungkook’s in his last year of uni and he’s got, like, a full sleeve, and piercings.” Namjoon smiles at his best friend. “Time to accept it, hyung.”

Jungkook wants to have a really violent reaction to these words, but somehow, he manages to remain still like a statue. 

“Right, whatever,” Yoongi grumbles. He looks at Jungkook. “Are you too grown to watch a movie with your big brother?” 

“Is it another Nolan movie?” 

“What’s your problem with Nolan?”

“Alphabetically?”

“Oh, come on…”

Jungkook starts laughing, following a talkative Yoongi to the living room. Namjoon steps right behind them, in unusual silence. How many times have they done this before, sat around the living room to watch a movie, just the three of them? And how many of those times did Jungkook feel like dying because Namjoon never paid attention to him, stuck on his Best Friend’s Little Brother’s role? 

“Let Jungkook pick the movie,” Namjoon says now, taking a seat next to him on the couch while Yoongi sits on the armchair. Namjoon taps his knee, eyes on Jungkook. “Choose a good one.”

Jungkook gulps down, nodding. He takes the control and looks through Netflix until he finds a suspense movie that Yoongi won’t complain about. Namjoon doesn’t say anything, but he turns his head a little to look at Jungkook from time to time. 

The silence is just too damn loud.

Jungkook drops his pen, sighing heavily. “It has to mean something. Doesn’t it?” 

“For fucks sake,” Mingyu whines, basically slamming his forehead on the textbook. “Jungkook-ah. This is our last exam and we’re gonna fail if you don’t shut up about Kim Namjoon. Do you really wanna spend summer break with that over your head?”

“Kim Namjoon?” 

“A bad grade,” Mingyu groans. He lifts his head up to glare at Jungkook, thick black hair slipping off his hat. “Our test is tomorrow, can you please focus?”

“I will focus if you tell me whether you think it means something or not.”

Mingyu runs a hand over his face before focusing his eyes on Jungkook again. 

“Fine,” he mutters. “I think it could, maybe, if you really squint, mean something. At least you can say it means he isn’t grossed out when faced with the idea of dating you, which is already an improvement considering how often you’ve complained that he thought of you and a doormat as the same thing.”

“Hey, I never said that!”

“You’ve definitely said that.” Mingyu turns his attention to the textbook. “Remember that first night you got drunk during sophomore year?”

“Don’t remind me.”

It was the first time Jungkook turned really pathetic in front of Mingyu. They weren’t exactly friends. They just had been paired up for a project in their first week of sophomore year. It was awkward and kind of irritating, but since neither of them seemed really close to anyone, it became a habit to have lunch together. That evolved to doing homework together and sometimes having a drink with each other, and then, one night, three months after his second year at University, Jungkook ran into Namjoon at a bar.

He had a girl under his arm. Jungkook doesn’t even remember her name, but she was pretty. Long black hair, tiny waist. Big eyes. Namjoon came up to him immediately, so happy to see Yoongi’s brother somewhere outside the closed walls of the Jeon’s family living room. He introduced the girl as his girlfriend and said the title out loud for the first time; this is my best friend’s younger brother. 

Unfortunate and absentmindedly. 

After he left, Jungkook proceeded to drink several soju shots, which Mingyu later reported to have kind of scared him, and the rest of the night is a bit of a blur. Jungkook remembers saying Namjoon’s name several times. He also remembers barfing. Mingyu would’ve held his hair if it had been long enough at the time. 

“You kept saying Namjoon thinks I’m a doormat,” Mingyu laughs. Someone shushes him. He places a hand over his lips. “I’ll never forget. The first time you threw up on me.”

“I didn’t throw up on you.” He might have a little bit. Jungkook slumps his back on the chair, chewing on his cheek. Mingyu has already gone back to his stupid book even if he knows Jungkook’s not done talking. “He kept looking at me during the movie we watched last night.”

“He did?” Mingyu asks, writing something down. “Oh, yeah, he definitely wants to fuck you.”

Jungkook leans forward, eyes wide. “You think so?” 

“You’re insufferable,” Mingyu says with a click of his tongue, eyeing his best friend again. Something in Jungkook’s face makes him sigh heavily and put his pen down, an obvious act of pity. “Look, all he did was tell you to not stop telling a lie you were already telling.” 

“But he lied to Yoongi-hyung about it,” Jungkook argues. “Why would he do that?”

“Maybe he just didn’t want your brother to be mad at you.” Mingyu shrugs, picking up his pen again. “Wouldn’t Yoongi hear about it, though? Like, from someone else.”

“Hardly.” 

That’s part of the reason Jungkook felt so confident in his little lie from the start. Yoongi dropped out of University in his sophomore year to pursue a career in music; his only friend in this kind of circle is Namjoon. Jungkook should’ve thought about the possibility of him finding out, but he does not have to worry about Yoongi.

“My brother is a bigger introvert than me.” 

“Damn, that’s crazy.” 

Jungkook throws a rubber at him. “Fuck off.”

“Can we study now?” Mingyu asks. “I really don’t want to fail.”

“I hate when you don’t encourage my delusions,” Jungkook pouts. “Like, are we even friends?” 

“Study.”

He drops his forehead on the open book in front of him.

Jungkook only got a text from Namjoon two times. 

Once, when Yoongi’s phone broke and they were supposed to meet up for a music session (none of Namjoon’s stuff is on soundcloud, which is very unfortunate for Jungkook) and Namjoon couldn’t get a hold of him. And twice, three minutes ago.

He’s been staring at the text like it will disappear if he blinks. 

“Can you just text him back? You look like a crazy person.”

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion.” 

Mingyu sighs, taking the phone from Jungkook’s tight hold. The action shocks him so much that Jungkook can’t move for a solid 15 seconds, and by then, Mingyu’s already typing.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“Dude, all he said was hello,” Mingyu laughs. He stretches his arm above his head and christ, why is this man so fucking tall? Jungkook hits him in the chest. Mingyu laughs more. “I replied hi, which is more casual. You’re welcome.”

“I absolutely hate you.”

Once the phone is back in Jungkook’s hands, he moves away from his friend. They are in the classroom after their final exam because Jungkook spends the first hour of any test looking at the white of the paper in front of him and then has to use the final two to make himself the top student that he is. It’s very complex. 

“Oh, he’s typing back.”

“Well, the next logical step is to say how are you so I wouldn’t get too excited if I were you.”

“Mingyu, can you just— oh my god.”

“Okay, what did he say?” 

“I thought I’d send you a better pic of me to help with your thing. I took this last winter! Take care,” Jungkook reads, rushing back to where Mingyu stands just to shove the phone on his face. “And he attached a picture. Namjoon sent me a fucking picture of him. Oh, God, oh my God.”

Mingyu blinks, lips parting. “Damn, this— he looks kinda cute, with the glasses and all. Wait, the guy has dimples? You never said so.”

“First of all, back off.” Jungkook hides his phone. “Second of all, of course I have said so, you just don’t pay enough attention!”

“I pay enough attention…”

“Mingyu-ah,” Jungkook exclaims. “Namjoon sent me a boyfriend picture of him. He looks like a boyfriend here, I’m having a stroke.”

“Please don’t have a stroke.”

Jungkook clunches to the phone, heart beating faster every more second he spends looking at Namjoon’s picture. He’s wearing a green coat, hands inside the pockets, looking out a window, glasses falling over his nose, dimpled smile on. Jungkook doesn’t think he’s posted that on Instagram before (he only looks at the man’s profile once a week, alright?!). Did Namjoon just pick a random picture or did he carefully choose it, knowing Jungkook would be showing this to others?

“Can you feed my delusions now?” Jungkook asks, showing Mingyu the pic again. His friend keeps his eyes on Jungkook instead, an amused little smile playing on his lips. “Are you telling me this is completely normal?! He sent me a picture for me to show other men and lie about him being my boyfriend.”

“Alright,” Mingyu sighs, nodding. “I’ll admit it is a little odd. But still, it doesn’t necessarily mean something bigger. Especially not that he wants to fuck you.”

Jungkook grunts, grabbing his backpack and shoving his phone inside it — but not without a final look at Namjoon’s picture. He turns his back to Mingyu, marching out of the classroom.

It’s true that Jungkook doesn’t really do much during summer break. 

He’s always been an introvert, preferring to hang out in groups of no more than five people, rather than be inside a wall blasting club party with drunk college students dancing so badly they could debut in YG if they auditioned. And Jungkook loves music; he has an entire set of speakers and pretty lights in the bedroom of his shared apartment with Mingyu. It’s just— the people. The amount of them. 

“We’re finally on a fucking break!” Seokmin shouts, lifting his beer bottle in the air. The rest of their class joins in, screaming at the top of their lungs, swinging their drinks in the air. Jungkook follows along, raising his beer cup. “Let’s get crazy, people!”

In Jungkook’s brief experiences at club parties, he’s noticed that college students are insane; they get drunk, go on top of tables, sometimes take their shirts off, makeout in dark corners, but no college students are as wild as the ones who are about to graduate. One foot in the comfort of classrooms and homework, and the other one in the shark tank that is the corporate world. 

It’s honestly a big part of the reason why he isn’t locked in his bedroom right now. What’s the point of spending the next six weeks anticipating his workload if he’s bound to sit at a desk and work 10 hours everyday surrounded by a bunch of people who hate their jobs as much as he does? After this summer, Jungkook will never again have the opportunity to get shitfaced and wake up at 1pm with a heavy hangover that can only be fixed by drinking more, so he needs to seize the day.

“Did you really need to make it so depressing?” Jihyo asks after he explains his reasoning to her, three beers into the night. Jihyo’s chin rests on her palm, cheeks all flustered because of the alcohol. “Maybe it won’t be like that. Maybe we’ll get jobs doing something we love.”

“I’m sorry, are you moving to a different country?”

Jihyo snorts out a laugh, hitting his arm lightly. She takes a huge sip of her beer bottle and slams it on the counter, smiling at him with her big eyes. 

“How’s your boyfriend doing?” 

“Don’t start.” 

“Oh, come on!” Jihyo chuckles, putting a hand over her mouth. “It was hilarious the first time you did it and somehow it never stopped being funny.”

Jungkook huffs, taking a sip of his beer. How many more of these before he starts feeling floaty? Two men and one girl have already flirted with him tonight, but thankfully, none of them were pushy when he said no. He didn’t even have to lie about not being single. 

“Maybe I won’t have to use my fake boyfriend tonight,” he tells her. “Surprisingly, the men here aren’t such pigs.”

“And cheers to that!” Jihyo raises her bottle. Jungkook clinks them together. “First time ever, might I add…”

“Spoke too soon.” 

Jungkook slides on the chair next to a very smiley Jihyo an hour or so later. She pouts at him, patting his back. Somehow, her cheeks are even pinker. He hasn’t seen her on the dance floor at all. Not that Jungkook himself was there for a long time; Mingyu pulled him in, did a made-up choreography to Blackpink’s Playing with Fire and then turned around to make out with some girl at least a head and a half shorter than him. 

And as he was laughing and imagining just how much Mingyu’s neck would hurt in the morning, Jungkook was approached by a very drunk freshman who had a lot of rude things to say about wanting his dick and Jungkook’s ass to meet.

“I know, I had to use my fake boyfriend three times tonight,” Jihyo complains, shaking her head. “You’d think more of these idiots would know who Song Kang is…”

“You mean straight men haven’t seen Love Alarm?” Jungkook feigns shock. “I didn’t see that coming.”

“He’s starring in a Netflix monster drama soon, okay!” Jihyo argues. “Oh, he’s gonna be so popular, I’ll need to break up with him.”

“Yeah, find a regular fake boyfriend next time.” 

“Like what, my brother’s best friend?”

Jungkook sighs heavily, hiding his face in between his hands while Jihyo laughs wholeheartedly. He pulls his phone out of his pocket to look at the picture that Namjoon sent him, now safe in his camera roll. He looks so good. Jungkook wonders who took that picture. A friend, a partner? Namjoon said it’s from last winter. He’s not dating anyone now, is he? That wouldn’t make sense. Namjoon wouldn’t tell him to keep telling others they are boyfriends if he were.

Not that it makes any difference at all. 

Jungkook has a title. Namjoon being single or liking men won’t change the fact that he’s Best Friend’s Younger Brother. That’s his fucking role. 

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom now,” Jihyo announces. 

Jungkook hums, but he’s barely paying attention; too drunk and too caught up in his own little one-sided drama. He takes a deep breath, eyes on Namjoon’s dimples. 

“Hey, handsome.”

Does Jungkook really have that big of a crush? 

“Why don’t you come dance with me?”

Jungkook frowns, eyes going from his phone to the person standing in front of him. A man, probably a little over 6ft, is looking down at Jungkook with a sly smile on his face and a drink in his hand.

“No, thank you,” Jungkook replies and offers the man a tight-lipped smile. He takes his eyes back to Namjoon on his phone. 

“That’s not very nice, is it? It’s just a little dancing. What harm will it do?”

Jungkook shrugs, “No harm, I just don’t want to.”

“Come on, my name is Joonho. I’ve been watching you all night—”

“A little creepy to admit that, no?”

Joonho chuckles, but it comes off as a grunt more than a laugh. Jungkook looks at him again.

“Like I was saying— I’ve been watching you all night and I didn’t see you with anyone other than the guy who’s now kissing someone else and that short-haired girl who just went to the bathroom. Is she your girlfriend?” 

Wouldn’t it be easier if he said she is?

“No, but I do have a boyfriend.” 

Jungkook shows him the picture of Namjoon on his phone. Joonho leans forward to take a better look at it. 

“Yeah? That’s your boyfriend?” Joonho asks, voice pitchy. “What’s his name?” 

“None of your business, I don’t think.”

Joonho straightens himself up, looking at the man that has just appeared next to him, only an inch shorter. He looks between the man and the picture on Jungkook’s phone, sighing heavily before waving them off and walking away. 

Namjoon turns to Jungkook, a deep frown between his eyes. He has his hands shoved in the pockets of his denim jacket. No glasses. Has Jungkook ever seen him without glasses?

“Are you alright?” 

Jungkook nods, but his mind is swirling. Part of him thinks his drunken haze is making this up, but the other, smarter part of him knows that Jungkook would need to be a lot higher than this for his brain to conjure up a perfectly sized version of Kim Namjoon. 

“Good to know.” The lines on Namjoon’s forehead ease and he offers Jungkook a soft smile. “So, can I buy you a soda?” 

“I, uh, am drinking beer.” Jungkook looks down at the empty table in front of him. “Or I was. At some point.” 

Namjoon chuckles. “Yeah, your cheeks are very flushed.” 

“They are?” Jungkook asks, stupidly. He blinks. Should he be standing? It’s rude to be sitting down when someone’s talking to you. Jungkook pushes himself up and oh— maybe he is too drunk. His head spins. Namjoon wraps a hand around Jungkook’s bicep. Oh. “I’m fine.” 

“Let me get you water, then,” Namjoon suggests, kindly. Jungkook takes his seat. “I’ll be right back.”

Jungkook keeps his eyes on the table, mortified. The second time in his life that he runs into Namjoon outside of his home and he’s drunk. Jungkook sulks for a total of one minute before Namjoon’s back. He slides a soda can and a bottle of water across the table and takes a seat opposite to Jungkook.

“So this is how your summer break is going,” he says, amused. “You weren’t lying when you told Yoongi you wouldn’t be locked up in your room this year.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook uncaps the water and takes a large gulp. “What about you, here to flirt with one of the men who think you and I are dating?”

Namjoon’s mouth opens a little, an incredulous chuckle bubbling out of him. Jungkook holds the water bottle like it’s a lifeline, heart racing on his chest. Did he really just fucking say that?!

“Actually,” Namjoon starts, uncapping the soda can. It opens with a pop. “I was dragged here by a couple friends. They said I should celebrate delivering half of my dissertation on time.” 

“Congratulations on delivering half of your dissertation on time, Namjoon-ssi.”

“Thank you, Jungkook-ah.” Namjoon narrows his eyes at him as he takes a sip of his drink. After he puts it down, Namjoon shrugs. “Why don’t you call me hyung?”

Jungkook bites his cheek. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay.” 

Namjoon takes another gulp of his drink, eyes on him. 

“Thank you for— the thing with the guy,” Jungkook exclaims. “That was nice of you… hyung. It seemed that it would take him more than a picture to leave me alone.”

“No need to thank me.” Namjoon frowns again. “Does that happen often?”

“Not really. Usually the pic is enough.” Jungkook drinks another gulp of water. He feels restless, mind heavy. “Thank you for the pic, by the way. I think this one is much more convincing than the one I had.”

“Which was…” He trails off. Jungkook presses his lips together. “Come on! What was it?”

“Uh?” 

Namjoon’s lips tug on one side. “What picture of me did you use before I sent this one?”

“Ah.” Jungkook chews on his cheek. How does he make this sound not creepy? It’s impossible, isn’t it? He breathes in. “Well. One that hyung posted a while back. Of you two in his bedroom.”

“And you randomly picked me, you said.”

“I don’t know that many people outside my friend group,” Jungkook repeats. He decides to take another gulp of water, but sadly finds the bottle empty. Namjoon pushes his soda towards him. “Thanks. I don’t know why I’m so thirsty.”

“It’s the alcohol.” Namjoon leans back against his chair. “Have you never been drunk before, Jungkook-ah?” 

Jungkook sighs, “I’m 23, almost 24. Of course I’ve been drunk before.” 

“Right, right,” Namjoon chuckles, lifting both hands as if in surrender. He keeps smiling, eyes studying Jungkook’s face. “You had just gotten into college when we met, right?” 

“Yes.” 

“I remember this one night we ran into each other a couple years ago and— well, you were with a guy, having a drink, but you were pretty sober.” 

He remembers that?

“It was my first time seeing you outside of your home.” Namjoon chuckles. “Well, the only time. Until now, I guess.”

Namjoon runs a hand through his hair and maybe if Jungkook wasn’t so drunk, he wouldn’t have followed the movement. If Namjoon notices, he chooses not to comment on it. 

“And does it feel different?” Jungkook’s drunk and stupid mind makes him ask. “To see me in a club, I mean.” 

“It does.” Namjoon keeps just— looking at him. Jungkook feels a bit breathless. “At home you’re… all quiet with your deer eyes. Here, you’re, well, you’re letting yourself just say what’s on your mind instead of overthinking everything. It might be because of the alcohol, but still, I like it.”

“You think I overthink everything?”

“Don’t you?” 

Jungkook breathes out heavily, taking a sip of the soda. Namjoon laughs again. The lights shine on his face every so often, making his skin blue, yellow, pink, purple. It’s hard not to stare, but— it’s not like Namjoon isn’t staring back. Maybe he likes the lights, too. 

“It’s definitely the alcohol,” Jungkook mutters, chest heavy. “I’m a bit boring sober.”

“You’re far from boring, Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon counters. He pulls his body forward, placing both arms on the table. “You’re actually very cool. Drunk or not.”

Jungkook doesn’t know how to reply to that (how long can he hold his breath before he passes out?)

“Where, uh, where are your friends?” 

“Sorry?” 

“Your friends,” Jungkook repeats. “You said you came here with a couple of friends.”

“Ah,” Namjoon exclaims. He looks around, eyes lingering on the dance floor for only a second, then shrugs. “I don’t know. Probably dancing or humping on someone.”

Jungkook chuckles, feeling his cheeks warm up. He looks down at his own hands over the table, mind floating. 

“Don’t you wanna be with them?”

“Not really…” Namjoon lets the word settle in the air. “Unless you want me to go.”

Never. 

“I don’t. Want you to go, I mean.” Jungkook takes his gaze to him again. “It’s nice talking to you.” 

Namjoon smiles, and oh my God. If Jungkook was just a bit more drunk than this, he might do something inside like saying his smile could light up the moon if the sun were to disappear. 

Thankfully, he’s only half as embarrassing as he could potentially be right now, so all he says is; “I might need more than one picture to make it truly convincing.”

“Should we take one together?” Namjoon replies. A smile still tugging at his lips. He lifts an eyebrow. “Like a selfie.”

Jungkook gulps down (seriously, how long can he hold his breath for before passing out?!)

“Sure. Yeah. That— would be great.” 

He hardly has any time to process it because a blink later, Namjoon is standing up from his seat and asking Jungkook to scoot over so they can sit together. Shaking and feeling like he might throw up, Jungkook does. Namjoon pulls out his phone and puts it on camera mode. 

“Can I put my arm around you?” He asks. Jungkook stares at him, nodding dumbly. What the fuck is going— oh, alright. Namjoon’s arm is on Jungkook’s shoulder now, fingers pressed against his bicep. “Okay, say cheese.” 

Jungkook would have laughed if he wasn’t currently so fucking aware of Namjoon’s presence. He can’t help but keep looking at him, lips parted, eyebrows lifted. The flash goes off and Jungkook blinks, eyes flying to the phone. Namjoon pulls his hand away and the loss is felt pathetically fast.

“Let’s take a look,” Namjoon mumbles, opening the camera roll. He chuckles. “Jungkook-ah, you didn’t look at the camera. Did I startle you?”

Is Namjoon really that oblivious? 

The picture is so clear. Jungkook’s staring at him with dumb, heart eyes, shoulders slumped to accommodate his arm better around them, lips parted in shock. He’s in awe. How can Namjoon not see that? It’s really such a farfetched thought to him, to think that his best friend’s younger brother might have a crush? Isn’t that.. kind of fucking expected? Jungkook’s hardly the first person to ever fall for his brother’s best friend.

Namjoon clears his throat.  

“Should we, uh, take another one?”

“Yeah, okay.” 

He puts his arm around Jungkook again, and this time, Jungkook makes sure to look at the camera smiling. And he would’ve made it through just fine if Namjoon hadn’t leaned his head against his. The flash goes off and Namjoon quickly retrieves his arm again. Jungkook keeps his eyes on the phone as the older man goes to his camera roll.

In the picture, they are both smiling, even if Jungkook’s a little bit affected. Their heads are put together, Jungkook’s cheeks are flustered and vivid purple and pink lights color the background. He’s not sure they look like a couple, but they certainly look close. 

“We look good,” Namjoon comments. “I’ll send it to you.”

He quickly opens their KaKaoTalk chat and Jungkook catches a glimpse of his name on Namjoon’s phone; Yoongi’s Jungkookie. 

What a nightmare.

“Sent it!” Namjoon announces. He touches Jungkook’s back. “Are you feeling better now? From all the drunkness.” 

“Yeah,” Jungkook lies. He forces a smile. “You don’t have to worry about me, you can be with your friends. I’m sure they miss you.”

Namjoon frowns, but nods. “Yeah, uh, you’re right. But, uh, I don’t wanna leave you alone here.”

“‘Mingyu!” Jungkook shouts, waving his arm up in the air to grab his friend’s attention. It takes that idiot almost an entire minute to manage to unlock his lips from the tiny girl’s and realize Jungkook’s calling for him. He starts walking towards them. “See, I have a friend. You can go.”

Namjoon looks at Mingyu with wide eyes. 

“Okay,” he mutters. “I guess you’re in safe, uh, hands.” 

“Yeah.” Yoongi’s Jungkookie. His role in Namjoon’s life is a fucking nightmare. “Thank you, Namjoon-ssi.” 

“I told you to call me hyung.” Namjoon licks his lips. Mingyu sits on the chair opposite to them. “Hi. I’m Kim Namjoon.” 

“Kim Mingyu.” He smiles at Namjoon. “So, you’re Jungkookie’s fake boyfriend, then?”

Namjoon heaves out a breath, shifting a bit on his seat. “I guess I am.” 

“Cool.” Mingyu leans back on the chair, crossing his arms and stuffing out his ridiculously big muscles. “Nice to meet you.”

“Equally.” Namjoon takes his eyes to Jungkook. “Well, I’ll go now. Please, text me if you need anything. I’ll be— somewhere around here.”

“Don’t worry, hyung,” he insists. “Really, you don’t need to worry just because I’m your best friend’s little brother.” 

“I—” Namjoon blinks. He seems like he’s about to say something, but changes his mind at the last minute. If he was drunk, maybe he would have. “Yeah. I’ll keep that in mind. Goodnight, you two.” 

Jungkook watches him walk away with a heavy heart and a floaty mind. Mingyu grabs the soda and takes a sip. 

“You know what? You might be onto something.”

“What?” Jungkook mumbles, staring at him. “What do you mean?” 

Mingyu shrugs, eyes on Namjoon’s back disappearing into the crowd. “I don’t wanna feed into your delusions, or anything, but— I don’t know. Maybe he does want to fuck you.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I was watching the two of you,” Mingyu shrugs. “Well. In between kissing Dae. And his body language… The dude was all smiley and touchy. When he stood up to sit next to you… just crazy.”

“He just— wanted to take a picture,” Jungkook argues. “For me to use when men bother me.”

Mingyu hums.

“Remember yesterday when you asked me if I thought that it meant something and I said it didn’t?”

“Yeah?” 

“Well, now I think it meant something.”

Jungkook presses his lips together. He takes his eyes away from Mingyu and searches the crowd. It takes a few minutes, but eventually, someone moves their body forward and Namjoon comes into view. He’s standing with a drink in hand, his denim jacket wrapped around his hips, swinging his body just a little.

And as Jungkook gazes, their eyes meet. Namjoon takes a sip of his drink, dragging his eyes from Jungkook to someone else in the crowd. Not even ten seconds go by before his eyes are on him once more. Jungkook chews on his bottom lip at the same time Namjoon bites back a smile, shaking his head and drifting his eyes away. 

If Jungkook were less drunk, maybe he wouldn’t have kept staring. And, because Mingyu just fed his delusions, Jungkook likes to think that, if Namjoon were drunk, he would have looked again.

Things don’t change after that night. 

Part of him — a part Jungkook doesn’t like to acknowledge or think about — thought perhaps they would have,  but Namjoon’s at their house for dinner again, and he only addresses Jungkook to make conversation, like he usually does. 

With his squared glasses and increasingly shorter hair (he says the summer heat always makes him want to shave it all off and try to rock a buzzcut. A commentary that took all of Jungkook’s strength not to blab out something along the lines of you’d look extremely fucking hot with a buzzcut, and he thinks he should win a medal for keeping his mouth shut), Namjoon sits at the Jeon’s family dinner table and hums around a mouthful of rice, eyes not turning in Jungkook’s direction once.

It’s been almost a week since they saw each other at the club, and Jungkook knows Namjoon hasn’t mentioned a word of it to Yoongi because his brother would tease him endlessly about “finally acting like a college student and going out to party” even though he himself never did any of that. Jungkook doesn’t know if it means anything that Namjoon didn’t tell Yoongi about the encounter.

And Mingyu isn’t any help. 

Half of the time he says Namjoon doesn’t care about this enough to think of it outside the moments in which it is happening, and the rest of the time, Mingyu assures Jungkook that Namjoon probably wants to, at the very least, make out with him, and, knowing that he can’t — a rule that, by the way, was never explicitly stated, to Jungkook’s knowledge — he keeps his distance. 

In response to that, Jungkook argued that accepting to pretend to be his fake boyfriend and taking a fake boyfriend selfie with him isn’t keeping a distance, but he only said it because he’s delusional and has a crush so big it would put most second male leads in dramas to shame. In the end, he has no idea why Namjoon agreed to the whole fake boyfriend thing, or why he stared at him for a second too long at the club, or why he hasn’t mentioned any of this to his best friend — who’s currently going on a rant about how his boss is a son of a bitch who doesn’t want to give him the weekend off so he and his girlfriend Jieun can celebrate their anniversary. 

“Have you told him it is an anniversary?” Jungkook’s abeoji asks. He’s not Yoongi’s biological father, but has been raising him ever since Yoongi was two, so his brother has never referred to him as anything else. “Maybe he will change his mind if you show him a picture of Jieun.”

“Abeoji,” Yoongi whines. “You can’t stay stuff like that!” 

Jungkook does that thing he’s an expert in; tunes out. He chews around his food and steals glances at Namjoon here and there, hoping that the man would do the same, but he never does. Well. He does it once, but probably because he notices Jungkook looking at him first. He offers him a short, contained smile, and turns his attention back to Yoongi’s rant. 

No movie tonight. Yoongi has an early day tomorrow and Namjoon needs to deliver a 50 page translation work by next Monday.

Jungkook should really get a summer job. Maybe that would get his mind off this impossible crush and the absurd need to chicken out on his summer plan to get wasted four times a week and spend the next six weeks stuck inside his bedroom studying instead.

“How’s summer vacation going, son?” His eomma asks him after his brother decides to talk to his boss about the anniversary. “Having a lot of fun? You know I’d prefer if you stayed at home now that you don’t have to go to school and you don’t have your tutoring money during break. How will you pay for the place?”

Lovely. What a pleasant conversation to have in Namjoon’s presence.

“I think I’ll ask Hobi-hyung to talk to his manager for a part-time job for me,” he replies, feeling a piece of kimchi stuck on his throat. “You know he works at a very fancy café.”

“Ah, that’s good, then.” His mother smiles kindly. “So, Namjoon-ah, are you dating anyone? Our Jungkookie has never brought anyone home, can you believe that? Such a handsome boy…”

Namjoon chuckles a little awkwardly. Jungkook wants to drop his face in the soup and hope to drown in the spice.

“Maybe he just hasn’t found the one yet, ajumma,” he replies. “I’m sure Jungkook will bring them home when he finds them.”

The gentleness of his voice makes something warm settle in Jungkook’s bones. He smiles softly at Namjoon, who smiles softly back and yeah. That’s it, honestly. No summer job in the world can make Jungkook move on from this. 

He’s totally, undeniably, fucked. 

Jungkook’s sitting on a stool, dreadfully sipping one of the weird drinks Hoseok has been making lately. He says he wants to broaden the coffee house’s menu, but Jungkook thinks maybe he should stop. It always either tastes like feet or rubber.

“You’re too critical,” his friend says in a pout. Jungkook takes another sip and shakes his head, having a full body shiver. He slides 

the cup back to Hoseok’s side of the counter. “It’s just passion fruit.”

“With lime and coke,” Jungkook deadpans, thinking of a way he can approach his friend about that possible part-time job for the summer. 

Hoseok sighs as he dumps the contents of the beverage in the sink behind him. He starts to go on about how he needs to increase his production and creative ideas for the shop so he can be promoted to a managing position. Jungkook’s paying attention, and then he’s not because his phone buzzes on the counter and when he checks the notification, it’s Kim Namjoon, texting him for the third time in his life. 

Kim Namjoon: someone just asked me if you and i are going out ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

Jungkook clutches his phone so tightly it kinda hurts. He feels his hands sweat as he types a reply.

You: oh? who? 

(Seriously? That’s the best your stupid mind could come up with? Ridiculous, pathetic, lame ass motherfu—)

Kim Namjoon: this dude i hooked up with a few times… Kim Minho. do you know him? has he bothered you? 

Jungkook frowns. That name doesn’t ring a bell. 

You: i don’t know him… sorry this is messing shit up for you :/

Kim Namjoon: you’re not messing anything up for me, kid, don’t worry

You: please don’t call me that, i’m not a kid

He types it so fast his brain doesn’t have time to catch up to it before the two tiny sent and read checkmark indicators appear on the screen. Jungkook drops his phone on the counter, screen down. 

Hoseok looks at him.

“Why are you pale? Did someone die?”

“I wanna throw up,” Jungkook whines.

“Okay, now, the drink wasn’t that bad…”

His phone buzzes. Jungkook takes a deep breath and decides it’s better if he just faces it head-on. Before he turns the device around, though, it buzzes again, so Jungkook chickens out. 

“What the hell is going on?” Hoseok asks, chuckling as he takes Jungkook’s phone (why don’t any of his friends know the concept of privacy?) “Uh. Kim Namjoon just texted you… Uh. Kim Namjoon as in Yoongi’s best friend? That Kim Namjoon?”

“Give me that,” Jungkook grunts, grabbing the device from his hand, not giving himself time to process Hoseok’s stunned expression and the implications of it before his eyes are on the screen. 

Kim Namjoon: right, you wouldn’t want your “boyfriend” calling you that

Kim Namjoon: should i call you jagiya instead? ㅋㅋㅋ

Jeon Jungkook is going to fucking die.

“Since when are you dating your brother’s best friend?” Hoseok practically shouts. Everyone in the coffee shop is probably looking at them now, but Jungkook wouldn’t know, because he’s currently dying, eyes glued to the chat messages. “Isn’t that, like, illegal?”

Another text pops up.

Kim Namjoon: that was a joke btw… please don’t think i’m weird ㅠㅠ

“Jungkook,” Hoseok whisper-hisses. “Are you seriously dating Yoongi’s best friend?”

“No…” Jungkook lifts his gaze to him for just a second. “I’m fake dating him… and he’s making a joke about it. I think.”

Kim Namjoon: oh okay you definitely think i’m weird

Jungkook rushes to reply, heart beating in his ears.

You: NOOOO! I don’t!!!!!!! you just caught me off guard ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

Kim Namjoon: did i? my apologies… 

You: it’s okay, it was funny ㅋㅋㅋ

(Jagiya. Jagiya. Namjoon joked about calling him jagiya. Holy fucking shit motherfucking christ—)

Kim Namjoon: hey, are you going to that club again tonight? i want to but none of my friends are up for it and i think its kinda lame to go to the club all by myself ㅋㅋㅋ

Jungkook freezes. Does that mean what he thinks it means? It can’t. Right?! It doesn’t. Right?! 

(He’s seriously about to die any second now.)

“Jungkook, hello? Fake dating? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Hyung,” Jungkook whines, looking up at Hoseok. He thinks he’s squirming a bit on his seat now, which is certainly very pathetic, but he wouldn’t be judged by someone who truly gets the implications of Kim Namjoon seemingly asking him out. Sadly, that isn’t Hoseok’s case, so his friend just sort of stares at him with a sprinkle of concern and a full spoon of confusion. “I don’t have the time or the concentration skills necessary to explain all of this to you right now, so just— let’s postpone.”

“You mean let’s postpone you explaining to me why you are fake dating your brother’s best friend?”

“Yes, and you can’t talk about this with Yoongi because he doesn’t know, like, seriously. I know you have difficulty keeping your mouth shut, but I really need you to not tell my brother about this. I’ll explain it to you later.”

“Jungkook, seriously, what the hell?”

“Please, Hobi-hyung. Promise me.” 

Hoseok ponders for a few seconds, but to Jungkook, it feels like they have just sat through an entire screening of Oppenheimer and a Q&A with Christopher Nolan (which Yoongi would probably love). 

Finally, his friend breathes out. “Fine.”

Jungkook stands up from his stool, grabbing his bag and his keys; a string of sorry, thank you and text you later falling from his lips as he moves away from Hoseok’s frowned eyebrows and hard stare.  

He will worry about that some other time.

Right now, Jungkook’s more concerned on how he’s going to reply to Namjoon in a cool, laid back, detached manner when he actually feels desperate, insane and extremely fucking attached.

The wind blows on his face outside of the coffee shop. It’s been 3 minutes since Namjoon sent the message. His window of opportunity to make this sound casual having already read the text is closing in.

Okay. Alright. He’s got it.

You: are you asking me out, hyung? ㅋㅋㅋ

You: i’m kidding btw

Jungkook holds his breath as he stands on the sidewalk, people moving past him with tired faces because it’s 11 o’clock in the morning on a very hot Saturday and they probably rather be in their beds sleeping under the covers with the AC on. Not Jungkook, though. He doesn’t rather be anywhere else than right here, staring at his phone like a maniac, waiting to see if he’s still Best Friend’s Younger Brother, or something in the universe has shifted and made Kim Namjoon finally realize that he is, in fact, extremely hot.

Kim Namjoon: ㅋㅋㅋㅋ i don’t think i’m allowed to do that anyway, so i meant as friends

Kim Namjoon: we can be friends, right? :)

Okay. Namjoon hasn’t realized he’s hot, then. A huge blow to Jungkook’s ego, and it will take a ridiculous amount of time for him to come back from this and— wait a second. He reads the text again.

I don’t think I’m allowed to do that is certainly not the same as ew, that’s fucking gross.

Jungkook’s mind is spiraling as delusions flood in again. He needs to talk to Mingyu. But before he runs back home and bangs on his best friend’s door until he grumbles a string of curse words for being awakened before 3pm on a summer Saturday, Jungkook has one more text to send.

You: ㅋㅋㅋㅋ well, good thing you don’t have to ask permission to go out with me as friends, then. and yes, of course we can be friends… hyung ;)

After complaining for over ten minutes and taking another five to read the text exchange, a very sleepy Mingyu concludes, a little groggy: 

“I think you nailed that last one, man, that was smooth. But yeah, I don’t know. Maybe he’s thinking about it more than before.” 

Jungkook’s heart jumps. Mingyu chuckles airly, giving him his phone back and pulling the covers over his head.

“Are you seriously not gonna comment on the fact he said he’s not allowed to go out with me?”

“Can you give me time to actually wake up?” Mingyu grunts. “But honestly, Jungkook, you’re a guy. You’re gay, but that doesn’t make being a guy any different, for the most part. We’re not that complex.”

“Yes, we are! Sometimes.”

Mingyu pushes the covers down to stare at him. 

“Not when it comes to this. I don’t know if he wants to do you, but your brother probably told him that he couldn’t.”

Jungkook chews on his bottom lip.

“You really think hyung told Namjoon he couldn’t be with me?”

“Maybe not with those words, but I have a little sister, you know?” Mingyu yawns, pulling his body up and resting his back on the wall. “I’ve definitely told some of my friends to back off of her. And you know that, either way, it’s also kind of a silent rule.”

Jungkook knows. It’s a stupid silent fucking rule. But if Namjoon wants to go out with him, even as friends, Jungkook won’t be the one to say no. He decided that he wouldn’t stay inside his shell this summer, and that certainly includes going on a not date, but a casual hang out with the biggest and longest object of desire he has ever had.

He takes a moment. 

“Mingyu-yah, don’t you think my crush on Namjoon is obvious?”

“Surprisingly more obvious than the fact water is wet and grass is green.”

Jungkook looks through his text messages with Namjoon, especially at the last one, Namjoon’s reply; yeah, friends don’t need permission to go out ;) we can share a cab, just let me know the time and i’ll pick you up… or vice versa

“So how come he doesn’t know?” Jungkook asks. “At the club, that first picture we took, I just stared at him with big shiny eyes. Truly pathetic. And even the whole fake dating thing in and on itself. How doesn’t he know?”

“Maybe he does know, but then that would make him an asshole for leading you on,” Mingyu ponders. “So, instead of that, maybe he just— can’t fathom the idea you find him attractive.” 

“What, how?”

Mingyu sighs. 

“Jungkook, you are extremely sexy. You’re younger than him, his best friend’s brother, maybe he thinks that… well, maybe he thinks that you see him as you see Yoongi.”

“Okay, never say that shit again if you don’t want me to throw up on you.”

Mingyu laughs, tapping Jungkook’s knee. 

“Just hear me out,” he starts, clearing his throat. He suddenly seems much more awake than two minutes ago. “Namjoon met you when you were 20, correct? You had already started working out, but like, a couple years ago you just— abs everywhere. It’s impossible not to notice and I’m straight. So see it from his point of view. The man’s always at your house for dinner and a movie, and you barely address him.”

“Because I’m shy and pathetic and don’t wanna make a fool of myself.”

“But he doesn’t know that.” Mingyu shrugs. “Maybe he thinks that his role in your life is Older Brother’s Best Friend. Or he did until two weeks ago when he found out you’ve been telling people you’re dating.”

Jungkook stares at Mingyu for so long, in such a deep loud silence that his best friend laughs again, all victorious on his assumptions that, important to note, might very well be wrong and he’s just feeding Jungkook an entire buffet of delusions, and grabs his phone. 

“You can’t just say that to me and go scroll down Instagram,” Jungkook whines, pushing the phone from Mingyu’s hand. His friend doesn’t protest. “So, you’re saying that, maybe, Namjoon does find me attractive, but has either been told he couldn’t hook up with me or assumed he couldn’t, and also maybe doesn’t think I find him attractive?”

“Yes.”

“You really are a terrible friend.” 

Mingyu laughs loudly, clapping his hands. 

“Well, don’t shoot the critical thinker, the mastermind, the conspiracy theorist! Go find out. What do you have to lose, anyway? You’re going out with him as friends tonight, right? So, flirt. Do your thing.”

“Mingyu, I don’t have a thing,” Jungkook reminds him. “I study and randomly match with guys on Grindr to have meaningless sex after a four text exchange that consists of hi, the questions size and bottom, and an address.” 

“Damn,” Mingyu puffs. “That’s actually the dream text exchange of most straight men.” 

“I know. Men are gross in general.” 

Mingyu clicks his fingers. “See! I told you we’re not complex beings.”

Jungkook nods grimly, accepting defeat. 

It’s not a date. So Jungkook won’t dress up for a date. 

He will only wear his leather jacket and apply a little bit of eyeshadow, blush and lip balm. He is going to a club, after all. It’s only natural to get somewhat dressed up. And use his most expensive perfume that his parents gifted him when he passed in one of the SKY Universities and Jungkook only wears it for special occasions. 

Some earrings, rings and a necklace. Hm. Maybe he should take off the leather jacket so most of his tattoos are on display. Namjoon mentioned it one day, and it’s summer; even if the club has AC, it will probably be hot anyway. Yeah. No leather jacket. Would a see-through shirt be too much? Hm. Probably. Finally, after much, much debate, Jungkook settles for a plain white tee that hugs his muscles and skinny jeans that hug his thighs. Comfortable? Not so much, but he is going on a not-date with Kim Namjoon, so it’s worth it.

He receives a text from Namjoon a little while later, wondering if it’s not best if they meet there since their apartments are so far away. Jungkook replies, a little gloomy, that it is fine. Because this is not a date. They are just friends going to a club together on a Saturday night since Namjoon’s friends don’t wanna go, so really, Jungkook is simply his backup plan and should have a little bit of self-worth, but he doesn’t. Especially not after having two glasses of soju as Mingyu stares at him from the kitchen’s counter, backward cap over his head just to show how much of a straight man he is.

“Yeah, so straight, in fact, that I have a babe coming over later, so thank you for going on your not-date with your fake boyfriend-slash-brother’s best friend.”

Jungkook stops. “First of all, babe? Don’t call her that. Second of all, fuck. That is so ridiculous. Non-date with my fake boyfriend-slash-brother’s best friend. What the fuck am I doing?”

“Being gay?” Mingyu suggests, shrugging as he pours himself another soju glass. “It sounds like a very gay thing to do. I saw this one Thai BL that the main couple hated each other for whatever fucking reason and then they pretended to not be friends because they were from rival college courses? And their friends beat each other up all the time. Like, where’s the logic?”

“I’m going to overlook the fact that you’ve been watching BL’s, and give me the title later, to say that hello? Straight people play mind games and can’t be friends with an opposite gender or else that means they’re cheating and also men expect women to be their mothers and do everything for them—”

“Jungkook,” Mingyu clicks his tongue. “I agree, but also, please, you have a non-date to go to. Save the lecture for that Women’s Rights protest next week.”

“Oh, you’re going with us?”

Mingyu hums. “Jihyo would kill me with a kitchen knife if I wasn’t. As a straight man, it is my duty to listen and learn.”

That gets a chuckle out of Jungkook. After another soju shot (he should really stop drinking if he doesn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of Namjoon), he calls for a cab.

Jungkook spends the cab ride with two thoughts in his mind.

The first dives straight into the delusions Mingyu keeps spoon-feeding him while pretending he’s perfectly reasonable (Jungkook is onto him, of course, but being indulged is nice, so he lets it slide). What if Namjoon really does think Jungkook only sees him as the Older Brother’s Best Friend? And what if Yoongi did, on some level, tell him Jungkook was off limits? People hate being told they can’t have something. And now that Jungkook has started telling strangers Namjoon is his boyfriend, they might have stumbled into a… very specific predicament.

The second thought feels more realistic, to Jungkook’s dismay. Even if Namjoon has ever looked at him as anything more than Best Friend’s Younger Brother — and even if he finds this whole fake boyfriend bit amusing — maybe he just wanted company tonight. And why not Jungkook? Someone he’s known for years and somewhat familiar. They literally ran into each other at that same club last week, and Namjoon saw firsthand how pushy men can get with Jungkook. So maybe he just wants to have a little fun and keep an eye on him, be there in case someone gets too rough. The way a good hyung would. The way Jungkook’s own hyung might — if he liked clubs, or if he knew any of this was happening. 

For some reason, though, Jungkook doesn’t think Yoongi does. 

But, in that case, why would Namjoon keep from telling his best friend that he is out in a club with his little brother if he they were just doing it as friends? 

Jungkook grunts as he pays the driver. Mingyu was wrong. Men are much more complicated than he said they are. 

The club is as loud as it was the week before, but Jungkook doesn’t see as many people as he had then, it being his second to last semester’s finals day. All of his classmates were here. Now, there’s just a bunch of drunk college students from other departments and people too old to be dancing on top of tables with college students. Jungkook hangs next to the bar, standing by an empty stool, phone in hand. Namjoon texted him four minutes ago, saying he’s five minutes away.

Jungkook orders a beer. In the end, it is too hot for a leather jacket or the several soju shots he had. He drinks it slowly, going for that cool detached manner he tried this morning and seemingly worked. In text. He doesn’t know how well that is going to go in real life. Jungkook told Namjoon he’s by the bar, so it doesn’t take the man long to find him, and, oh, Dear lord who lies in heaven and should have prepared Jungkook better to the sight of a shaved head Kim Namjoon.

“Hi,” the older man greets with a huge smile on his face. He’s wearing a loose open black shirt with a white tank top underneath it, paired up with equally black jeans, but does any of that matter when his hair is basically gone and all Jungkook wants to do is run his fingers through this faded buzzcut that only managed to make Namjoon look hotter, just like Jungkook has predicted in his mind. “So, do you like it? It feels so much cooler, like, literally. It’s too hot these days, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook replies, voice constricted. He clears his throat and has another sip of beer. He points to the bartender. “You want one? Budweiser is at a really good price tonight.”

“Yeah, sure, why not?” Namjoon places both his hands on the counter and calls for the bartender. In the meantime, Jungkook stares at the shaved sides of his head and feels himself squirm a little. Shit. He really should not be alone with Namjoon while tipsy. Jungkook’s really prone to saying something insane in these conditions, especially after being unexpectedly hit by a buzzcut. “Do you want another one, Jungkook-ah?”

“I’m not finished with this one.” Jungkook replies as he takes another gulp. Namjoon glances at him for a moment, skin glowing under the same purple lights it did last week. He looks back at the bartender as the man hands him a Budweiser “I think no one will hit on me tonight, with you next to me.”

Namjoon’s head whips in his direction, eyebrows raised. 

“I mean, yeah, of course.” He takes a long sip of his beer bottle. “I’m your fake boyfriend, aren’t I? If anyone comes, I’ll just square them up, say you’re taken.”

Jungkook laughs. No, it’s more like a strangled squeak. He slams his hand on the counter and calls for the bartender, heart pulsing in his ears. Or maybe it’s just the music.

“Another one, please.”

They drink in silence. Usually, they have Yoongi to start up conversations and connect the two of them, but apart from that one time they were alone to discuss Jungkook decision to pretend Namjoon is his boyfriend so men leave him alone, and last week when he was drunk and a bit silly, they have never had a conversation that wasn’t mediated by Jungkook’s brother, which is, well. 

Jungkook finishes his second bottle and asks for a third. Namjoon gives him a look, but doesn’t say anything; they are not close enough for him to give Jungkook advice on how much he should be drinking. Right. They aren’t close enough. They aren’t close at all. So why on earth did Namjoon invite Jungkook to go to a club with him, alone, as friends?

“Does my brother know we’re here?” Jungkook blurts out when the world starts tilting a little and his cheeks become a bit hot. Namjoon seems taken aback by the question. “Well, does he?”

Namjoon shifts the weight of his body from his right to his left leg, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. He’s flushed, but Jungkook knows it can’t be the alcohol because, differently from Jungkook, he’s only had one bottle.

“No, he doesn’t.”

“Why?”

Namjoon sighs, then shrugs. Makes a face. He seems a bit embarrassed. 

“The anniversary thing’s gotten him all riled up, so I avoided talking about my own life this week.”

“Bullshit,” Jungkook snorts. knowing very well that the alcohol’s the one calling the bluff because he would not be so daring sober. “You think Yoongi won’t like it, that’s why you haven’t told him. Even if we’re going out as friends, when we have never even been friends.”’

“You’re the one to talk,” Namjoon bites back, a tiny smirk on his lips, totally contrasting with the flush on his cheeks. “You’ve been showing my picture to people telling everyone I’m your boyfriend, and you didn’t care at all how Yoongi would feel about it!”

“Because it’s fake,” Jungkook argues. “You’re my fake boyfriend.”

“So, why didn’t you tell him about it?” 

Jungkook blinks. “What?”

“If it’s fake and you’re only doing it to keep creepy men from harassing, why didn’t you tell your hyung about it? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

Namjoon’s looking at him with intent. That damn smirk on his lips, dimpled cheeks distracting Jungkook from the dooming question he’s just been asked.

“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it,” he replies quickly. “You weren’t even supposed to know.”

“Then, there you go.” Namjoon takes a final sip of his first bottle and asks for another. “I didn’t want to make a big deal out of us meeting each other, so I didn’t tell him.”

Jungkook bites down his lower lip strong enough to sting. Namjoon keeps his back to him, waiting for the bartender to give him attention, but that can take a while in a crowded bar. Still, he doesn’t look at Jungkook again for a whole five minutes. Not until there’s another bottle in his hand and the blush has vanished from his cheeks. 

When their eyes meet this time, things don’t seem as awkward anymore. The silence doesn’t feel as loud, despite the pounding — often enjoyable but now weirdly annoying — electronic music around them. Namjoon takes a sip, still looking at Jungkook, and then he licks his lips. It’s all so… subtle. Almost calculated. Is Namjoon testing him? Testing to see if Jungkook really chose him as a fake boyfriend randomly, or if it was on purpose? And if he is testing him, why? 

Why does it matter if Jungkook’s role is simply Best Friend’s Younger Brother?  

“Should we dance?” Namjoon asks all of a sudden. “I’m not very good at it, but it’s fun, when you’re a little tipsy.”

“Are you?” Jungkook questions. “A little tipsy. You’ve only had a bottle and a half.”

Namjoon chuckles, running a hand over the top of his head. Ah. Jungkook wishes he could do that, too.

“I had, maybe, three other bottles before coming here. You know, club alcohol is very expensive. You need to get yourself a little buzzed beforehand if you still want to have money in your bank account by the morning.” 

“Are we staying here until morning, Namjoon-ssi?”

The older man sighs, stars in his eyes. “Didn’t I ask you to call me hyung?”

“Yeah, hyung seems pretty accurate for your role in my life, I guess,” Jungkook hums. He definitely shouldn’t have had three soju shots and three beer bottles. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t feel drunk enough to say that, let alone follow it up with; “Not the best, but accurate.”

A heartbeat. A blink of his sharp dragon eyes.

“Interesting.” The word rolls out of Namjoon’s tongue in a low tone, but, despite the blasting music, Jungkook can hear it perfectly. He sounds amused. Puzzled. Curious. “What role would you prefer for me to have in your life, then? I’m already your brother’s best friend and your fake boyfriend.”

“And yet,” Jungkook pulls out in a heavy breath. If he’s already at the very edge, might as well wet his toes; “Neither seem exactly right.”

Whether Namjoon expected to hear that or not, he still offers him a huff of his breath, a smile and a light head shake. 

“So,” he exhales. “Are we going to the dance floor?” 

“Sure, let me just…” Jungkook grabs Namjoon’s bottle and chugs it all down in one go, delusionally hoping the man is looking at him and will keep looking at him because he is simply the most interesting thing in this room for him. “Okay, dance floor it is.”

“Wait, let me hit the bathroom first,” Namjoon mutters, touching him on the arm briefly before walking away.

Jungkook takes a deep breath, tapping his fingers on the counter. He wonders if Namjoon’s into him, just a little bit, and also if he should order a piña colada. In the midst of his hazy thoughts, a man stops next to him, right where Namjoon had been standing, someone who’s previously hit on Jungkook, a few weeks before finals on one of the first times he decided to go out to party with his classmates. It was also the first time he used that Namjoon photo. 

“Hey, pretty,” the man greets. What was his name again? Sungki? Joongi? “Alone again?”

“I’m not alone,” Jungkook replies, feeling a little bit of triumph that he won’t have to use a picture this time. Not even the selfie one. Because Namjoon’s here, with him. As friends, sure, but also not. Not when it comes to men like Sungki here. “My boyfriend’s in the bathroom.”

Sungki-Joongi hums. “Is he? You know, I always see you around these parties and you’re never with that dude. Always with a tiny girl and a big guy that is definitely straight. Weird, no?”

“The weird thing is that you keep watching me, actually,” Jungkook grimaces, still taping his tattooed fingers on the counter. “What’s with gay men and their obsession with sounding exactly like straight men? I’m dating. Get lost, again.”

“You heard him,” Namjoon utters, coming up behind Jungkook and wrapping his arm around Jungkook’s waist. The action sends involuntary — but very delicious — shivers down Jungkook’s spine. “He’s dating. Get lost. Again.”

(Namjoon’s hand’s on his waist. Namjoon’s hand is on his waist. Namjoon’s fucking hand is on his waist.)

Sungki-Joongi looks down at Namjoon’s hand and back up at his face. He seems… intimidated. Namjoon’s taller. Definitely prettier. And he has a hand on Jungkook’s waist, a frown between his brows and his jaw set tight. There’s no room for conversation here. Namjoon’s making that clear.

“You should go out with your boyfriend more, dude,” Sungki-Joongi ends up saying, voice a little strained. “People will hit on him a lot if they think he’s single. Especially without, uh, a ring on his finger.”

“You’re totally right,” Namjoon agrees, voice loud. He looks at Jungkook. “I’m putting a ring on your finger tomorrow, jagiya. It’s about time. We’ve been dating what, two years? Actually, I don’t know why I didn’t do it sooner. It’ll help people like… what’s your name?”

“Joongi.”

Joongi! 

“Sungki here to know you’re taken and I am very possessive of what is mine,” Namjoon mutters, eyes back on the man. “Could you leave me and my boyfriend alone now?”

Joongi nods, looking even more intimidated. He walks away and Jungkook swears that, if hybrids were a real thing, he would have his tail between his legs. 

“Holy shit,” Jungkook gapes, laughing. Namjoon’s about to pull his hand away from Jungkook’s waist, but Joongi, very bravely, does a double take, so Namjoon tightens his grip even harder and Jungkook truly, honestly, feels like he might get a semi right here and now. Joongi turns away and Namjoon lets go of Jungkook. He clears his throat. “Uh, wow. That was— you’re a very good, uh, actor.”

“You think so?” Namjoon smiles at him, mouth closed, eyes shiny. “And I was improvising! Should I try a career in the arts? This teacher thing isn’t making me much money. But then again, neither would acting, unless I suddenly turned into Song Joongki, or Gong Yoo.”

“Because they are good actors?”

“Yes, but mostly, because they are beautiful and dreamy and all the girls and gays want them.” 

The grip on his waist must’ve sent whatever rationality was left working in Jungkook’s brain because his next words are definitely telling;

“Which girls and gays don’t want you? Come on, you look like you came out of a magazine.”

Namjoon keeps looking at him, smile widening as his forehead creases with the up of his eyebrows. Jungkook wants to crawl into a hole and kind of hope he can reach either the center of the earth or Brazil. It must be as hot there now as it is here, anyway, and he heard from a trusted source they have this drink called caipirinha that’s the closest thing to soju you could find—

“Is that why you chose me to be your fake boyfriend, then?” Namjoon asks, interrupting his train of thought. Jungkook blinks. “You said it was random and you don’t know many people outside your friend group at college, but there’s Jung Hoseok, right? He’s your friend and he’s single. Why not him?”

“I told you.” Jungkook swallows, brain going from not working to complete mush. “You were the first person who came to my mind.”

Namjoon bites down his lower lip and shakes his head. He sighs heavily, and even, maybe, whines a little bit. It takes him almost a full minute to look at Jungkook again. When he does, it is to say;

“If I came out of a magazine, then, where did you come from?”

Jungkook can’t believe his ears. He’s stunned, really. And it must be obvious, because Namjoon scrunches his nose, closes one of his eyes and glances away, cheeks all red. 

“Anyway…” he drags out the word, letting it hang in the air for a few seconds. “Should we finally try the dance floor?”

Pushing the word yes out of his lips should not be that hard, but Jungkook’s still very much speechless. He stands there, with his mouth slightly parted, eyes wide, staring at the older man, and then, somewhere in between the engines that are not working in his mushed down brain, a wheel turns, screaming at him that he needs to react, and he needs to do it now, because Namjoon’s head is starting to tilt and a frown is worryingly deepening between his eyes. 

The only thing he manages to do, however, is wrap his fingers around Namjoon’s wrist and pull him to the dance floor. Jungkook’s heart is beating all over; so loud, in fact, that for an insanely drunken second, he fears the hammering of it can be heard over the blasting music. He even presses a hand against his chest in hopes to calm it down, but Kim Namjoon is right in front of him, in all his buzzcut, lightly tanned skin glory, so Jungkook chooses to focus on that instead.

Namjoon keeps a small smile on his lips, hands not anywhere near Jungkook’s waist where they should be, hips swaying to the beat. He seems a little shy — too many neon lights over them for Jungkook to know whether he’s still blushing or not — but also… determined, somehow. He keeps his eyes on him, deep and sharp, and if Jungkook had been delusional ten minutes before, it is nothing compared to how batshit crazy he feels right now. 

If I came out of a magazine, then, where did you come from?

Jungkook wills his hips to move, hands nowhere near where he wants them to be (shoulders, hips, cheeks, the dimples, oh God, the dimples!). They are close. Closer than they have ever been and somehow, this is not one of Jungkook’s long, Sunday afternoon dreams. It is real. It is happening. Kim Namjoon really is dancing with him, and there’s something in his eyes. A sparkle, a dare. Perhaps it’s the lightning and perhaps Jungkook’s way too drunk to rationalize it, but they wouldn’t even be there in the first place if Namjoon hadn’t asked him out, right?

As friends, he said. But… it doesn’t feel like that now, not when Namjoon’s gaze drops to his mouth. Just for a second; half of one, even. And sure, Jungkook is chronically delusional and fully capable of making up entirely different realities in his head, but he’s pretty sure Namjoon just looked at his lips.

Oh. Oh. He does it again.

Namjoon looks at his lips again.

And then he glances away, shoulders moving up and down as if he’s taking the deepest breath of his life, swallowing so hard Jungkook’s eyes are forced to focus on the bobbing of his Adam’s Apple and how much he would like to run his tongue over it (over him completely, actually!). 

The dance floor feels crowded, thick. Jungkook takes a step forward and now they are almost chest to chest. He doesn’t know what possesses him to do it, but if he cared enough to guess, he would blame it on the alcohol. But all the things getting buzzed has ever led him to do, pushing his body closer to Kim Namjoon’s is definitely the least criminally offensive one. 

Namjoon parts his lips, a hand curling around Jungkook’s waist and if there were still lingering thoughts in his mushed brain, they have now completely vanished. Jungkook is truly, undeniably, incapable of forming a single coherent thought because Kim Namjoon’s hand is on his waist and his sharp eyes are burrowing into Jungkook’s and all the neon lights around them don’t do justice to the amount of sparks flying every-fucking-where. 

They are no longer swaying to the beat. Jungkook wouldn’t be able to pinpoint when, exactly, did they stop, and it doesn’t really matter. Namjoon looks down at his lips again and Jungkook feels really inclined to close his eyes, let it happen.

Except he can’t look away. This is all his dumb fantasies, his most unhinged daydreams, just… happening. Right here. Right now. Namjoon is actually seeing him. Finally seeing him. He even pulls Jungkook closer, fits their bodies together like it’s nothing. Like Jungkook isn’t just Best Friend’s Younger Brother anymore.

Namjoon licks over his lips, leans in, and presses their foreheads together, breathing out heavily.

“We can’t,” he practically shouts over the music.

It takes Jungkook very long seconds to register the words, mostly because he’s currently feeling the electricity ming off Namjoon’s body and processing the fact his thick lips are so fucking close to his own. 

“What?” Jungkook finally shouts back, hands on Namjoon’s small back. “Why not?”

“You know why,” Namjoon says, pulling his head back a little. His body too. But not his hands. “We can’t.”

“But do you want to?”

He doesn’t say it loud enough for Namjoon to hear it over the music, but it seems that he does, anyway.  His eyes sweep over Jungkook, dark and impossible to read, and then… he nods.

Namjoon fucking nods. 

“Jungkook–ah!” Someone exclaims, dropping an arm around his shoulders and consequently making Namjoon’s hands disappear from his waist. No, no, no! Why is the universe so cruel?! “You didn’t tell me you’d come tonight!”

Eunwoo looks drunk as fuck. His smile is bigger than his face and he’s swaying a bit, eyes going from Jungkook to Namjoon.

“Hi,” he shouts with a hand wave. “I’m Eunwoo!”

Namjoon tilts his head forward in a tiny bowl, forcing out a polite smile. His lips move, forming his own name, but it’s not said loud enough to reach Jungkook’s ears. Namjoon takes his eyes from Eunwoo to him and presses his lips together, turning around to push his way out of the dance floor.

“Where is he going?!” Eunwoo shouts in Jungkook’s ear.

“You owe me so big!” Jungkook grunts, pulling his friend’s arm from his shoulders. He pouts. “We were having a moment!”

“Oh, shit,” Eunwoo chuckles, pressing a hand on his lips. He tries to bow, but loses his balance and Jungkook has to hold him. “I’m sorry, Jungkook-ah! I’m soooo sorry!”

Jungkook pulls him up, holding him by the shoulders. “You’re too drunk, how about I take you home?”

“I’m here with…” Eunwoo looks around, green neon lights washing over his pretty face. “Where is she? Jihyo! I came here with her.”

“She’s probably kissing some girl in a corner,” Jungkook says, holding him up as they walk out of the dance floor. 

He’s trying not to think about it, but Eunwoo’s interruption has cleared his mind enough for Jungkook’s brain engines to start running again and they are all currently screeching at him. 

But before he can fall into the depths of his own rust-filled subconscious, Namjoon’s right there, holding Eunwoo’s weight with him. Jungkook blinks at him, at his sharp eyes and buzzcut, and the way his lips are pressed together in what feels like a silent apology. 

For what, Jungkook wonders. Leaving the dance floor or almost kissing him? Both? 

Together, they sit Eunwoo on a bench. Jungkook straightens up, feeling too hot in his leather jacket now that they are outside. He keeps his eyes safely away from Namjoon’s. 

“I texted Jihyo, she said she’s coming.” 

“Okay,” Namjoon replies, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Walking away,” he mutters. “Coming here. I— I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Jihyo steps into the sidewalk and Jungkook isn’t sure if he’s relieved or annoyed by her appearance. He wants to keep talking, but he also doesn’t know what to say. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know he was this drunk!” She exclaims, gaze going from Eunwoo to Jungkook and finally landing on Namjoon. Jihyo’s eyes widen and she seems to stop working for a second, which makes Jungkook chuckle, totally against his own will! “I, uh, uh, hi. Hello. Uh. I’ll take him home.”

Eunwoo pouts, looking up at them. “They were having a moment and I ruined it, Jihyo-yah!”

Rule number one of not wanting someone to know something you said to someone else? Do not tell a drunk person anything. 

Jungkook feels so mortified he doesn’t move a single muscle as Jihyo gives him an apologetic smile and helps Eunwoo get to his feet. His body only kick-starts back up when he remembers tiny little Jihyo can’t hold a drunk 1.83cm man all by herself, and then all three of them are helping Eunwoo get inside a cab.

“I’ll ask his brother to help me when I get to his place,” she says, bowing to the two of them. “Thank you.”

“You’ll get home alone?”

“I’ll ask his brother to take me. You know I like my men muscular,” she winks at him. “You know, like you like yours big and strong. Often nerdy, too. Anyway. Bye.” 

And with that, Jihyo steps into the car and shuts the door. 

Jungkook stares at the cab as it drives off because what else is he supposed to do, face Namjoon? After his friends dug his grave like that?!  

“I, uh…” his brother’s best friend starts, stepping into his line of view. Namjoon looks at him, all flushed cheeks and deep frowns. “I really am sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.” 

“I kinda do, I— stepped over some line here.” 

“You can step over all my lines, I don’t care.”

Namjoon’s mouth falls open, but he’s way too stunned to form an actual reply. Then he lets out this little disbelieving laugh, shakes his head like wow, that really came out of your mouth, and honestly? Jungkook feels the same. What is wrong with him? He needs to be put down.

“Pretend I didn’t say that,” Jungkook asks. 

“Will do,” Namjoon hums, pressing his lips together, pretty dimples sticking out. “I’ll call us a car and drop you off at your place.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Jungkook mutters, voice a little restrained. “I’m not that drunk.”

“I know, but it’s the least I can do,” Namjoon insists, pausing for just a moment before adding; “You know, as your brother’s best friend.”

Jungkook sighs heavily, deciding he’s had enough of his jacket and swinging it off. He holds it tightly in his hands, nodding his head to the cobblestones.  

“Yeah, because that’s your role in my life,” he says.

“That’s right,” Namjoon agrees, clearing his throat again. 

Silence falls between them, and far more awkward than ever before.

“Look on the bright side,” Mingyu tries the following afternoon as he stares down at the nest Jungkook made of their living room couch. “At least you know he’s attracted to you and you weren’t being delusional after all.”

Jungkook stares at him, properly fluffed under two blankets, five pillows and three plushies he should’ve gotten rid off around the same time he started to pay his own bills. It is far too hot for so many layers on top of him, but the fan is running and Jungkook’s too sad to care. 

“I don’t see how that helps,” Jungkook argues. “It was so… awkward. The entire drive here. I could see in his face he wanted to say something, but he never did! I think the goodnight he squeezed out when the cab parked in front of our building was probably the most difficult word he ever had to utter.”

Mingyu makes a face. “That bad, huh?”

“So bad!” Jungkook whines, shoving a pillow on his face. In all of his wildest, most unhinged fantasies of Namjoon liking him back, he never considered the possibility of being proven he was wanted and promptly rejected, anyway. “This stupid fucking bro code!”

“I know, it sucks.” Mingyu makes space for himself on the couch, pulling Jungkook to lay on his chest as if his boobs are going to help! Jungkook pouts, blinking at the nearest wall as his best friend caresses his arm. “But I don’t think it’s all over. I mean, the most difficult part is already taken care of, which is him wanting you. Namjoon’s just scared of what that could potentially mean for his friendship with Yoongi, that’s all.”

Jungkook lifts his head, looking at him. “Are you suggesting I humiliate myself trying to get him into my pants?”

“I would never do that, even though I’m pretty sure you’d go for it.”

“Hey!”

“What I’m saying is…” Mingyu trails off, wiggling his eyebrows in that mischievous, handsome way that Jungkook knows gets all the girls and the gays weak on their knees. “Make it impossible for him to forget he wants you.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Flirt with him,” Mingyu sighs, booping his nose. “Provoke him! He has dinner at your parents’ every week, right? So ride your foot up his leg under the table, lick the spoon a little too much when nobody else is looking, I don’t know! Just make sure he simply cannot forget how badly he wants to do you.”

Jungkook sits up on the couch, staring at his best friend with a frown and half a smile. “Where do you get these ideas?!”

“I am an avid consumer of romantic fiction,” Mingyu hums, then pursues his lips. “Well, the women I date are, and you know I can’t say no to a little TV and cuddling after sex.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” 

Jungkook throws one of his plushies at him, but he can’t deny that the idea is growing rapidly in his mind. Would it be so bad to provoke his brother’s best friend just a little? Namjoon already admitted it. He nodded when Jungkook asked if he wanted to kiss him. Actually, fuck the head nod! He pressed their bodies together, placed them forehead against forehead! He looked at his lips about four or five times! 

“I’m a little angry, you know?” Jungkook exclaims, shaking his head. “He invited me to go, alone! And then got all up in my space, almost kissed me, only to then say we couldn’t!”

“He provoked you,” Mingyu concludes. “So you’re just gonna provoke him back.”

Jungkook glances at him. “You’re like a little devil on my shoulder.”

“The most handsome devil you’ve ever seen, I’m sure.”

“Nope,” Jungkook grins, dreamily sighing as he remembers the previous night and how wickedly gorgeous Namjoon looked when he was practically breathing against Jungkook’s lips. “But you’re a close second.”

The following Thursday registers as the hottest day of summer so far. 

Jungkook spends almost half of his experimenting shift at the coffee shop standing directly under the AC, hawk eyes zooming over the customers to make sure everybody is satisfied and he doesn’t have to move from under the cold breeze for at least another minute or two. 

“Your phone is buzzing again,” Hoseok says when Jungkook moves closer to the counter to take another tray. “Is it your fake boyfriend, perhaps?”

“Ha-ha, you’re so funny, hyung,” Jungkook deadpans, shooting him daggers before grabbing the tray and taking the order to its awaiting customers. 

Hoseok has been making jokes about Namjoon ever since Jungkook dropped by Monday morning to ask him if there were any available positions for a summer part-time job. Jungkook promised he would explain, but he hasn’t yet, so he guesses he deserves the light-hearted jabs. 

Besides, neither Hoseok’s jokes or the hot air are what’s getting him fidgety today because in only a few short hours Jungkook has his weekly dinner back at home, with his parents, his brother, his brother’s girlfriend and… Kim Namjoon. 

He still hasn’t decided whether he’ll actually do what Mingyu so cheekily suggested. Jungkook just isn’t sure he has it in him. He’s not a flirt. He doesn’t know how to tease or provoke. The chances of him trying to slide his foot up Namjoon’s leg and accidentally doing it to Jieun instead are not zero and that alone says everything about how catastrophically bad he is at this.

Once his shift is over and Hoseok offers to give him a ride to his parents’ house, Jungkook reasons it’s probably a great opportunity for him to explain everything.

Hoseok listens to him in silence, only a tiny little smile on his lips indicating that he’s actually listening. Then;

“And when, exactly, did you two start doing it for real?”

“What?” Jungkook shouts, making Hoseok laugh. “We are not— nothing has happened between us!”

“Yet,” Hoseok adds, turning left. “If nothing has happened between you two, then, it’s just a matter of when.”

After pondering for a total of ten seconds, Jungkook decides to share a little more.

“Well… we almost kissed.”

“I knew it!”

“But he rejected me,” he pouts. “Said we can’t. Because of Yoongi, I imagine.”

Hoseok snorts, rolling his eyes. “Namjoon is very righteous, I guess. He tries to do what he supposes is the correct thing always, but trust me, he’s just being overly cautious.”

“I didn’t know you knew him like that,” Jungkook mutters, frowning a little.

“Please,” Hoseok says with a click of his tongue. “Who do you think introduced him to Yoongi back in school?”

“But—” Jungkook stops mid-word, jaw dropping. “You never talk about him! I didn’t know you were friends.”

“Not besties, but we hang sometimes.” Hoseok parks right in front of the house Jungkook grew up in, then turns to him with a wide smile. “Should I go in and say hi, then?”

“No!” Jungkook yelps, making Hoseok laugh even louder. “You’ll just make fun of me and I’ll want to jump off something very tall.”

Hoseok lifts his hands in the air. “Guilty as charged.”

“Thank you for the ride,” Jungkook says, already opening the car door because if he lingers one more second, Hoseok might follow him inside, and now that Jungkook knows he and Namjoon are friends, he absolutely does not trust him not to ruin his life. “I’ll be there tomorrow at 8!”

“You better,” Hoseok calls as the door shuts. “And Koo?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m pretty sure Yoongi doesn’t give a fuck,” he says, giving Jungkook a wink. “And if he did, it would pass. Namjoon’s just being silly.”

Jungkook lets out a short huff. “I’m not the one who needs to hear that.”

“Well, I can just come in—”

“No!”

Hoseok cackles as he starts the car. “See you tomorrow, darling.”

“Bye, hyung.”

Once inside, Jungkook kisses his eomeoni’s cheek, bows to his abeoji, and bolts upstairs. He goes straight to his old bedroom, shuts the door, and immediately decides he needs a shower and a full self-care ritual. He still isn’t sure if he will flirt with Namjoon in front of his entire family, or if he can even do it... But either way, he should at least look hot and unbothered when he sees him again.

So, for that end, Jungkook styles his hair off his forehead, moisturizes his lips like his life depends on it, and sprays an absolutely irresponsible amount of perfume all over himself. Then, dressed in a tank top and big shorts — the only acceptable attire to entice another man, plus it’s still pretty hot after nightfall — he heads back downstairs.

“Are you trying to kill us?” Yoongi demands the second Jungkook steps into the living room, fanning the air in front of his nose while holding Jieun’s hand with his other. “Why so much perfume?”

“I had a very long, stressful day full of serving others,” Jungkook reasons, bowing his head to his sister-in-law before taking a seat on the armchair. “Will you allow me to at least smell good? Thanks.”

Before Yoongi has the opportunity to jab back at him, however, the doorbell rings. 

“I don’t know why he still rings,” Yoongi snorts, looking at his girlfriend. “It’s not like he doesn’t have the passcode.”

“He’s polite,” Jungkook argues, hoping nobody can tell how hard his heart is hammering against his chest as he gets to his feet. “You should learn from him.”

“Did you hear him say I’m not polite?” Yoongi asks Jieun and she laughs. “This kid, jagiya, I swear, he doesn’t respect me anymore…”

“I never have!” Jungkook jokes, chuckling at the way his brother gasps. He turns to the left and walks straight to the front door, the smile slowly disappearing from his face the closer he gets to Kim Namjoon because if there’s one thing Jungkook is, it is dramatic. When he opens the door, he makes sure to look him in the eye. “Good evening.”

Namjoon’s more covered up than Jungkook decided to be; a deep forest-green shirt, beige shorts, and a square-patterned flannel on top. Plus the prescription glasses he apparently only takes off to go clubbing.

His eyebrows lift the moment his eyes land on him.

“Wasn’t expecting me?” Jungkook questions, tilting his head to the side. 

“You never answer the door,” Namjoon replies, voice small. His eyes travel over him like they had last Saturday, dark and wanting, but Namjoon’s quick to blink his way out of the stupor. He takes his eyes beyond Jungkook. “Can I come in?”

Jungkook steps to the side, but only a little. Enough for him to pass, but not without squeezing his way in. He doesn’t know when he decided to play the game, but now he’s already playing it. Namjoon hesitates, sucking in a quiet breath, rolling his neck like he’s trying to steady himself. Then he steps in closer, turning his body sideways, eyes locked on Jungkook’s as their chests brush when he slips past into the living room.

It lasted a second, but it made the air between them thick. Jungkook feels it deep in his loins, curling around his over-excited, fanfic-loving belly. Namjoon doesn’t say anything, not even glances back at him before he’s making his way to the living room, but it’s obvious how affected by something so small Namjoon is; first, he doesn’t know what to say when Yoongi asks why did they take so long at the door, then Namjoon’s eyes follow Jungkook as he takes his seat back on the armchair, coming up with a reply to his brother himself;

“We were chatting,” he sighs. “Is that forbidden?”

“No, of course not,” Yoongi says, yawning. Jieun takes her hand to his forehead and starts massaging it, so Yoongi closes his eyes. “You’re too good to me, jagiya.”

“You need to take better care of yourself,” Jieun mutters, eyes on her boyfriend. “Look how tense you are…”

Jungkook takes the chance; his brother’s eyes are closed, his sister-in-law’s are on her partner and Namjoon’s are still all over him. 

He presses his tongue against his cheek, breathing in the courage it will take to do what Mingyu suggested. Jungkook feels absurdly silly, perhaps the silliest he has ever felt before, but he shall not let that stop him from sticking a thumb in his mouth and sucking it. Over and over again, until the finger is all but coated in his saliva and Namjoon is properly fidgeting on the armchair directly in front of him. 

“Dinner’s ready, everyone!” His eomeoni exclaims, stepping out of the kitchen and Jungkook scrambles on his seat, pulling his finger off his mouth faster than he has ever done anything else in his entire life, heart pulsing all over his bones. “Oh, Namjoon-ah, you don’t have hair anymore!”

Namjoon blinks at her, cheeks redder than Jungkook’s ever seen them. He looks like a deer caught in headlights, a student who’s just been asked a question he doesn’t know the answer to, a teenager caught watching porn on their computer. It’s hilarious, but Jungkook’s a bit mortified, too, so he just presses his hand against his lips and tries to be very fucking chill. 

“I–uh, yeah!” Namjoon exclaims, swiftly getting up and hitting his ankle on the center table in the process. He winces, lowering himself to rub his hand against the flash and Jungkook feels a bit guilty. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”

“Oh, dear, should we put some ice on it?” Eomeoni wonders, concern dripping from her voice the way only a mother’s can. “Come on, let’s go to the dining room, I’ll get you some ice.”

“No need, eomeonim,” Namjoon insists, walking toward her. 

“If Namjoon were to put ice every time he stumbled on something, he’d be frozen by now,” Yoongi jokes, shaking his head. 

Normally, Namjoon would glance back at him and sneak a middle finger when eomeoni wasn’t looking, but he doesn’t. He’s too distracted. If Yoongi finds that odd, he doesn’t comment on it.

Jungkook watches his brother stand, help Jieun up, and trail after their mom and Namjoon into the dining room. Five seconds later, Jungkook follows them.

“We need to talk,” Namjoon whispers as he slips into the kitchen and shuts the door like he’s about to confess to murder.

Jungkook, who’s just finishing up with the dishes, glances at him, then turns right back to the sink. “What about?” 

“You’re trying to provoke me.”

Trying is definitely a cute way to put it considering Namjoon excused himself from dinner and spent ten full minutes in the bathroom just because Jungkook lightly brushed their ankles together.

“It was just a little bit of teasing, hyung.”

“A little?” Namjoon scoffs, moving closer. He stops right next to the sink, a hand on the marble. “You sucked your thumb like you were sucking a—”

Jungkook feels his cheeks start to ache, rubbing the sponge over one of the bowls. Still, even if he’s shy, he says; “Finish your sentence, hyung.”

“Cock,” Namjoon says with absolutely no hesitation, zero shame and because Jungkook didn’t actually think he would finish the goddamn sentence, he lets the bowl slip from his hands, fall into the sink, break and splash water all over himself.

Namjoon sucks in a breath, taking his hands in between his as he asks, alarmed; “You didn’t cut yourself, did you?!”

“N-no,” Jungkook stammers, acutely aware of how soft Namjoon’s fingers feel on his hands. “I’m fine, I— didn’t hurt myself, no.”

Namjoon inspects his hands thoroughly anyway and Jungkook just stands there, speechless once more, with his cheeks burning, his stomach dropping and so much fondness in his heart it’s not even funny. 

Seconds tick by and after plenty of them have come and gone and Namjoon still hasn’t let go of him, Jungkook smiles a little. “If you haven’t found any cuts by now it’s because there aren’t any, hyung.”

He says it softly, teasingly, half-expecting Namjoon to jolt away from him, but deeply hoping he won’t. And he doesn’t. Namjoon straightens his back, clears his throat, takes his gaze back to Jungkook’s face and keeps their hands together, rubbing his thumbs over Jungkook’s wet palms, which he’s pretty sure should be considered a crime punishable by law — if Namjoon doesn’t intend to kiss him at some point in the next two minutes, that is. 

“You’re driving me crazy,” Namjoon whispers and it’s like a million fireworks explode simultaneously in Jungkook’s head. Every rusty engine in his overachieving brain starts sprinting, dripping with caffeine and the promise of a well-paying shift. “Ever since… I can’t stop thinking about you.”

He doesn’t say anything else, which implies that he’s waiting for Jungkook to reply, but the problem is, despite the fact his brain is suddenly working harder and faster than ever before, Jungkook’s still a moron and all the very coherent sentences that fly to the forefront of his mind slam into each other and mix together in a way that turns them into very incoherent words. 

“I… you… me,” he starts, then shakes his head. Perhaps if he repeats the words out loud… “You can’t stop thinking about me.”

“Yes,” Namjoon murmurs, a smile tugging at his lips. “But we can’t.”

The engines send out a single word;

“Why?”

“Your brother.”

Jungkook sighs, all the wheels crashing into one another when he steps into Namjoon’s space, gripping his hands and trying, harder than he has ever tried before, to stay cool. 

“Do you want me?” Jungkook whispers, lips so close to Namjoon’s he can feel his shaky breath. The older man holds his gaze. The world stands still. Not a single sound besides their breathing and the soft drip of water against the broken ceramic pieces. Everything feels so suspended, so heightened, that Jungkook’s brain smooths the next words out of his lips, as damning as they are; “I didn’t pick you randomly. You were the first person that came to my mind because you always are.”

Namjoon exhales his shakiest breath yet and despite all of Jungkook’s delusions over the years, he isn’t deluded by this. He isn’t deluded by the way he sees the exact moment all of Namjoon’s resolve breaks. The exact second sparks shine in his eyes and he throws every little thing out the window. It’s like an electric bolt goes off and the only thing left to do, the only thing either of them can think to do, is give in.

But it wouldn’t be Jungkook’s fucked up, twistedly pathetic love life if shit just worked out like that, would it now?

“Kim Namjoon,” Yoongi exclaims from just outside the door and the two of them pull apart so fast it really could’ve been an electric shock.

The kitchen door swings open as Jungkook tries to subtly wipe dishwater off his chest and Namjoon pretends he wasn’t just about to kiss his best friend’s little brother. Yoongi storms in with a frown deeper than Jungkook remembers ever seeing directed at either one. He looks between them, narrowing his eyes with suspicion. Thank God they’re miles apart now. Surely he didn’t see anything. He can’t have seen anything.

Still, he marches straight to Namjoon and shoves his phone into his best friend’s face.

“What the hell is this?!” he demands. Then he turns on Jungkook, waving the phone like a weapon. He can’t read what it says, but it seems to be a private chat. “What do you mean you two are dating?!”

A second, then two, and finally, three. 

“Hello?” Yoongi asks, turning his head so fast between the two Jungkook kinda fears he will get dizzy. “Are neither of you going to say something?”

“It’s just fake dating,” Jungkook blurts out, throat dry. He can feel Namjoon’s eyes on him, but he makes sure to keep his own on his brother. “When I started going to clubs, some dudes wouldn’t just take a simple no for an answer, so I just told them I had a boyfriend, and, uh, Namjoon was the first name that popped into my head that wasn’t one of my uni friends.”

Yoongi blinks, easing his forehead. “Men get pushy with you?”

“Sometimes.” 

“You should’ve told me,” Yoongi sighs, slipping his phone into his pocket. He steps closer, hand sliding to Jungkook’s elbow. “I would’ve gone there and squared them up.”

Jungkook snorts. “Please. You’d lecture them.”

“I would not,” Yoongi protests, offended. “I’d punch them.”

“As if. You’re soft as a kitten.”

“And you’re a black belt,” Yoongi shoots back. “You could’ve punched them.”

Jungkook grimaces. “I’m not confrontational.”

“You should be,” Yoongi insists, then glances over at Namjoon and actually laughs. “Honestly, I don’t know why I got so worked up. If there’s one guy I wouldn’t worry about dating my brother, it’s you.”

Namjoon, who had been standing very still in the corner for the past three minutes, frowns. “Why does that sound like an insult?”

“It’s not,” Yoongi says with a yawn. “Just means you’re a decent guy. I wouldn’t have to worry about you breaking my baby brother’s heart.”

He looks toward the sink, spots the mess, and snickers.

“Damn, you broke one of eomeoni’s favorite bowls? She’s going to kill you. I was going to invite you two to watch a movie with us, but, uh… might be best if Jungkook sneaks out before she comes back downstairs.”

And with that, still blissfully oblivious, Yoongi turns the knob and walks out, leaving them alone.

Alright. Maybe Jungkook was a tiny bit dramatic calling his love life fucked up and twistedly pathetic, because the second the door shuts, he and Kim Namjoon just… stare at each other from across the kitchen, both a little wet, both a little stunned, and then break into the stupidest, sweetest grins.

“So,” Jungkook mutters, pressing a hand to his stomach as laughter bubbles up, “apparently we can.”

“Apparently so,” Namjoon agrees, laughing just as hard. 

And although laughing with Namjoon feels great, Jungkook enjoys it much more when their laughter dies down and the room turns electric all over again. He bites down his lower lip, pressing his hands on his back, heart hammering against his chest, and takes a step forward.

Namjoon, hands shoved in his pockets, does the same.

The doorknob turns again and Yoongi reenters the fucking kitchen.

“Jimin just called me,” he announces, looking in between them again. “He’s inviting us to take a night dip in his pool. Shall we? It’s so hot tonight.”

Jungkook pictures himself drowning his big brother in said pool and smiles widely. “Sure, hyung. We’ll be right there.”

“I’ll lend you swimshorts, Namjoon,” Yoongi murmurs, dragging his eyes from his brother to his best friend. There’s a pregnant pause in which Yoongi frowns, lips twisting up slightly, and Jungkook can practically see the light bulb appearing atop his head. He chuckles, licking over his lips. “Jieun and I will wait in the living room… don’t take too long.”

And with that, clearly no longer oblivious, Yoongi leaves them alone for the second time. 

Namjoon’s cheeks are bright red when Jungkook looks at him.

“This is mortify—”

“Hyung, come here,” Jungkook breathes, closing the distance between them in a rush and tugging Namjoon in by the front of his shirt. It lacks grace and finesse, and for half a second he fears that he has somehow grossly misread the situation, but then one of Namjoon’s hands is on his waist while the other entangles itself on his hair, and their lips crash together. 

Namjoon’s tongue licks inside his mouth, all-consuming and breathtaking, pressing their bodies so close together Jungkook melts into the grip. He wraps his arms around Namjoon’s shoulders, kissing him as hard as he’s being kissed, all lips, tongue and the occasional scrap of a tooth. Jungkook’s senses are all heightened; he’s acutely aware of his own skin, of the way Namjoon’s hands feel against it and the taste of his lips. 

He’s attuned to the sounds that they make, all the soft gasps and breathy moans, going straight to Jungkook’s dick because he is nothing if not a very homosexually inclined man whose most anticipating bucket list activity for the past four years has been making out with the man currently devouring his mouth, so.  It’s really no surprise how fast he gets hard. Any potential shame was abandoned somewhere in the past, because Jungkook doesn’t feel a single drop of it now.

Namjoon pulls his glasses off, throwing them somewhere and that makes Jungkook giggle breathlessly. The older man smiles, leaning forward to suck on his bottom lip, hands slipping under his shirt, and all the cheerleaders in Jungkook’s imaginative mind are shaking their pompons, jumping up and down the football field. He moans, eyebrows knitting together as he uses all of his strength to somewhat gently push Namjoon against one of the kitchen’s cabinets, making all of his mother’s favorite ceramic dinnerware clink together. 

“Careful,” Namjoon breathes against his lips, hand moving from his hair to his cheek, all hot and gentle and incredible in a way that Jungkook’s not sure he’s normal enough to be casual about. “We don’t want to break all your eomeoni’s favorite bowls, do we?”

“No, we don’t,” Jungkook replies, absurdly weak and a thousand percent horny, leaning forward and kissing him again. Namjoon opens his lips, entangling their tongues as his thumb caresses Jungkook’s cheek. 

When they pull apart, either five minutes or five hours later, the older man smiles, pressing their foreheads together. “We should go.”

“Should we?”

“Your brother is waiting,” Namjoon reminds him, pecking their swollen lips. “Jimin’s pool party.”

“Or we could just head over to my place and have our own party.”

Namjoon chuckles, head moving back, and fuck. Jungkook wishes he could take a photo and stick it to his bedroom door because the look Namjoon gives him is so full of warmth, but also just dark enough that Jungkook can’t tell if he wants to cuddle him or pin him down onto the nearest mattress, and by the way, just for the record, he would be okay with either. Or both. Preferably both. 

“We should indulge him a little,” Namjoon argues, licking over his thick, red-swollen, kissed by Jungkook (fuck yeah) lips. “He’s waiting for us.”

There’s a heavy knock on the door and Jungkook jumps, pushing himself away from Namjoon, heart pulsing around his bones, but surely not as hard as his dick is pulsing in his shorts. Jungkook looks down, alarmed, and places his hand over the bulge, too mortified to look back at Namjoon. 

“I know I’m cool and hip and all, but don’t push it,” Yoongi says from the other side of the door. “We have been waiting for ages.”

“We’ll be right there,” he screeches out. 

Namjoon moves in front of him, running his hands over Jungkook’s naked arms and that does nothing but make him harder. 

“Don’t touch me if you want it to go away,” he whispers, still not looking at him. “God, this is so…”

“Sexy,” Namjoon finishes, taking his thumb and index finger to Jungkook’s chin and pulling his gaze toward him. The older man’s smirking, eyes dripping with so much want, Jungkook feels kinda dizzy. “And just so you know… I am, too.”

Jungkook chances a look down and Namjoon laughs, pulling him into a bear hug. He kisses the side of Jungkook’s head, then his ear and his neck, and Jungkook properly whines; 

“What did I say about making it go away?!”

“Okay, okay,” Namjoon chuckles, letting go of him.

He moves to stand near the sink and Jungkook finally has a — great, formidable, mind-shattering and life-changing — look at the outline of Namjoon’s hard cock straining against his shorts. 

Jungkook swallows, feeling his own cock throb a bit too violently and turns around, facing the door. “I’m not a prude, I swear, I just can’t look at it if I don’t want anyone else to… see how you make me feel.”

“Fair,” Namjoon murmurs and his voice is dripping with so much fondness Jungkook can’t help but want to cry a little bit. “You know, I think right now is a great moment for us to talk a little. You know, before we go any further.”

“Sure,” Jungkook agrees, tone a bit high-pitched. “What would you like to say?”

“First of all, I’m not really a man of casual hookups,” Namjoon starts, now a little more serious. “I’m not saying we have to, uh, get ahead of ourselves, but I’m really not great with one night stands. It’s just not for me. And I also think that it wouldn’t be good… in general. Considering everything.”

“Considering my role in your life for the past four years has been Best Friend’s Younger Brother,” Jungkook feels the need to clarify because he’s nervous and horny and his brother is only a door away from them. He makes a face when Namjoon doesn’t say anything else. “Please, continue.”

“You wanna know when that changed?” Namjoon asks softly. 

Jungkook nods. 

“It was when I saw your sleeve for the first time. You had, like, grown all of that muscle overnight it seemed, and you were just walking around the house with all of these tattoos and… I swear I choked. Had some really, really wildly inappropriate thoughts about my best friend’s little brother. Felt guilty as fuck.”

If hearing any of that was supposed to help his boner subside, it has the opposite effect. Jungkook feels it twist at the same time a large smile spreads across his face. He turns his head a little toward him, but doesn’t turn around. 

“Really?” Jungkook asks, giddiness and surprise drowning in his voice in equal amounts. “You’ve wanted me… for years?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon breathes out, and if Jungkook had to guess, he’d say he’s properly all red in the face. Cute. “But, on top of not thinking I could do anything about it, I also thought you only saw me as your brother’s best friend.”

Jungkook can’t help but laugh. He truly, wholeheartedly laughs, hands over his face, entire body shaking with the force of his amusement. Mingyu won’t let him live this down! He will call himself a mastermind for the rest of their lives. 

“I hope you’re not laughing at me,” Namjoon says, but it’s so light that Jungkook knows he’s just teasing. He turns to him, then, deciding he does not care about his boner or how hard it apparently is to get rid of it. Jungkook walks toward him, toward his drop dead gorgeous, smiling self and presses their lips together, holding Namjoon’s face in between his hands. 

“It’s just,” Jungkook giggles, scrunching his nose. “I’m so happy.”

“You are?”

Jungkook hums, pecking his lips again. He looks down between them, glad to see both of their hard-ons have subsided enough not to show over their shorts anymore. There’s another door knock, but this time Jungkook doesn’t pull away. 

Therefore, of course, this time, the door actually opens. 

“Hi–oh,” Jieun exclaims. “Jagiya sent me here to ask if you guys are still coming. He was… afraid to come himself.”

Jungkook turns to her, an apologetic smile on his face. Behind him, Namjoon slides just a little to the side, a hand on Jungkook’s waist as if that’s just a thing they do now and not half of Jungkook’s most delusional fantasies! 

“Sorry, noona,” Jungkook mutters. “We’ll go, we’ll be right there.”

Jieun gives him a wink and leaves. 

“That pool must be really delicious if hyung’s still waiting for us,” Jungkook reasons, turning back toward him. He ponders for a second. “Or maybe he’s just not evolved enough to consciously leave us alone knowing very well what we will do once he does…”

“I actually hope he hasn’t had that line of thinking…”

Jungkook giggles, pinching his dimples just like he’s wanted for so long and ah, finally complete! Well, not entirely. He still needs… all of that in him, and as soon as possible. But he can wait a little. He’s not a caveman. Jungkook can dip into their friend’s pool and enjoy a very chill evening with everyone. He really can. 

“But when I get you alone,” he whispers, braver than he has ever felt in his entire life, eyes burning on Namjoon’s. “Oh, when I get you alone.”

Namjoon swallows, gripping his waist. “We should go before we get another boner.”

“Yeah, yeah, good thinking.”

They finally join Yoongi and Jieun in the living room. There’s a small bag next to them on the couch, which Jungkook presumes is filled with swim shorts and towels. Without saying a single word, Yoongi gets to his feet. He glances at the two of them and shakes his head, moving toward the front door.

“No decency, no respect, no self-awareness…” he complains.

“We didn’t mean to be that long, okay!” Jungkook argues, following behind him. “It was supposed to be just… a little. But things happened!”

“I don’t wanna know!” Yoongi whines, opening his car’s backdoor and shoving the bag inside. He turns to Jungkook, but points a finger to someone behind him. “You. I’m very cool, but I’m watching you.”

“You literally just said you wouldn’t be worried if I were to date your brother,” Namjoon — very bravely — argues. 

“I didn’t mean you could, could… hump on each other in my eomeoni’s kitchen with me waiting for you in the other room, though!”

Namjoon gasps. “We were not humping on each other, we just kissed a littl—”

“I do not want to know!” Yoongi interrupts, walking toward the driver’s side. Jungkook would fear he’s at least a little upset for real, but he sees a flash of a smile on his brother’s face before he sits down on the driver’s seat. “Come on, let’s go before everyone gets drunk without us…”

They all get inside the car. Namjoon and Jungkook intertwine their pinkies in the backseat and Jungkook tries to be chill about it, but fails rather miserably with how stupidly big he smiles. Yoongi plays heavy metal all the way to Jimin’s house, and when they arrive and make their way to the back garden where the small party’s already in full swing, Jungkook’s brother pulls Namjoon to the side. 

Jieun hooks her arm with Jungkook’s and pulls him forward. 

“Let them talk,” she says. “It’ll be okay.” 

“I know…” Jungkook says, but he has chronic anxiety, so for the entire time Yoongi and Namjoon are talking to each other in a corner, he feels inclined to eat his own nails.

Jieun gives him one of the swimwear they packed and Jimin rushes Jungkook to the downstairs bathroom to change. He doesn’t want to go, not while his brother and Namjoon have such serious expressions on their faces, but he ends up going anyway. Being alone for a few minutes gives him a bit of room to think about the past hour and how absurdly out of a movie it’s been. 

After changing, Jungkook sends a very long voice note to Mingyu with all the details he feels like sharing (every single one except how big Namjoon’s cock seemed to be when it was all pressed up against his shorts; that detail is for himself only!) and by the end of all his rambling he has a smile so big it hurts his cheeks.

“I will make you proud and fuck his brains out tonight, don’t worry,” he finishes the voice note with. When Jungkook opens the bathroom door, he comes face to face with Kim Namjoon himself; a pair of swimwear in one hand, the other buried in his pocket, a tiny smile on his lips. Jungkook blinks. “You didn’t hear any of that, did you?”

“Only the part about you fucking someone’s brains out tonight…” he trails off. Namjoon frowns teasingly. “Hopefully you mean me?”

“Of course!” Jungkook exclaims, which makes Namjoon’s smile get bigger and his dimples look tempting all over again. But instead of poking them or pulling him into the bathroom for another messy make out session, Jungkook decides it’s best if he tells Namjoon how he feels. “Listen, all I’ve ever had are random hookups and one night stands, but I don’t want that with you. I’m messy and often stupid, but I don’t want to mess this up. I really… like you.”

“You do?”

Jungkook chews on his bottom lip, nodding. Half of him wants to look away, default to making a joke, but he won’t. Not tonight.

“I know there’s a lot we still need to learn about each other, but I feel like I’ve been watching you from afar, or not so much, all these years,” he whispers. “I’ve been into you all along but I didn’t want you to see it. So I kind of ignored you? Not really, but I made it seem that way. I just didn’t want to embarrass myself. Didn’t want you to see right through me, and then the entire fake boyfriend thing reached you and…”

“Now we’re here,” Namjoon murmurs, taking his hand in his. He caresses the back of Jungkook’s hand with his thumb. “I’m glad the whole fake boyfriend thing happened. If it hadn’t, I wouldn’t have considered the possibility you saw me as more than Yoongi’s best friend.” 

“It’s crazy to me that you thought that,” Jungkook huffs, giggling. “I mean, did you not see the way I looked at you?”

“Not before, but after that night in the club a couple weeks ago… that picture when you were looking at me…” he says and Jungkook makes a face. Namjoon chuckles, stepping into his space and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Hey, don’t need to be shy. I feel the same way.” 

“How?” Jungkook asks, lips brushing his. He feels his heart so full, mind running with so many simultaneous thoughts none of them seem to make sense even though they are all very obvious. “Literally, how?”

“I just do,” Namjoon whispers, taking Jungkook’s lower lip in between his, dragging his nails over Jungkook’s naked back, and if that isn’t the most sensual thing anyone’s ever done to him… Jungkook whines. Can’t help himself. Namjoon pulls back with a grin. “Your brother made me promise I won’t break your heart.”

“Big commitment,” Jungkook swallows. He feels nervous. “But we don’t have to make a commitment right now.”

Namjoon hums, leaning down to press his lips to Jungkook’s neck. “You have no idea how many times I thought about doing this and felt an absurd amount of guilt afterwards…”

“Horny guilt?” Jungkook asks because he no longer has any sort of filter. All he gives a shit about is the feeling of Namjoon’s wet lips trailing down his neck. 

The older man chuckles against his skin. “Yes, a lot of horny guilt… But I guess I can be just horny now.”

“Please, be very horny.”

Namjoon pulls away and Jungkook whines again. He hooks his fingers on the hem of Namjoon’s shirt and pulls him closer again. Namjoon easily lets himself be pressed against Jungkook, which is the best development to anything ever, but instead of kissing him again, he holds Jungkook’s face. 

“Listen,” he says, ever so softly. “I’ll go change and we’ll go enjoy the pool with the others. And then, when I get you alone…”

“When you get me alone…” Jungkook repeats, feeling downright delirious by the proximity of Namjoon’s heat, and his smell, and how low his timbre is. 

“I’m going to do some very, very nice things to you,” Namjoon continues, nails now dragging over Jungkook’s tattooed bicep. “Things I’ve been dreaming about doing for a very long time.”

Jungkook bites down a grin, all systems crashing, dying and being reborn because he is that dramatic. “Will it keep me up all night?” 

“All night,” Namjoon confirms. He boops his nose. “Let me change now?” 

“Of course!” Jungkook cheerfully exclaims, and it is safe to say nothing could have prepared him for the sight of shirtless Kim Namjoon. 

His mouth waters, his brain short-circuits and he’s somehow very glad that the universe saved the moment he would see Kim Namjoon’s nipples for the first time for after they had confessed to each other because Jungkook doesn’t think he could’ve disguised his thirst even if he tried.

“I won’t ask if you like what you see because you clearly do,” Namjoon murmurs, slightly pink on the cheeks. He holds Jungkook by the hand and pulls him forward. “Come on, let’s go before I change my mind.”

“Change your mind about what?” 

“Spending time with them before getting you alone,” Namjoon explains with a very heavy sigh.

And while it’s true that Jungkook would much rather be alone with Namjoon, they end up having a great time with the others.

They are not Jungkook’s tight-knit group, but they are Yoongi’s and Namjoon’s, so Jungkook adores them all the same. They drink and laugh and eat, and revere to the moon, high out of their minds. The music blasts through the speakers, someone shows up with a brand new beer grid every fifteen minutes and Jungkook gets a taste of what it would feel like if he and Namjoon were to make a big commitment.  

It’s a perfect summer night filled with chlorine, fingers brushing his skin underwater and stupidly big grins that no one questions. Nor do they question why Namjoon’s stuck to Jungkook’s side the entire time, or why they share the same inflatable cup holder shaped like a flamingo.

At some point, when Namjoon volunteers to grab another beer grid himself, Yoongi swims toward Jungkook, sucking on a bright yellow straw. His brother presses his back to the pool’s edge, eyes on Jimin and Taehyung dancing the macarena on the other side, and says:

“I always knew you were into him, but I didn’t think he felt the same way.”

“What?” Jungkook gapes, eyes snapping to him. Yoongi keeps his expression very neutral, but Jungkook has known him his entire life, so he knows his brother is trying really hard not to smile. “You’re full of shit, you did not know I liked him.”

“Yes, I did,” Yoongi hums, lips tugging at the corner. “You have this… pathetic dreamy stare whenever Namjoon’s talking. It’s disgusting, but also hilarious and… Alright, it’s cute.”

“So you approve.”

Yoongi shrugs. “What is there not to approve? He’s nice. You’re decent. Perfect match.”

“I’m decent,” Jungkook laughs, shaking his head. Namjoon reappears in the backyard holding two beer grids and everyone celebrates. He keeps his eyes on him, heart swelling, exploding and tightening all at once. “Who told you, anyway?”

“Hobi.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “That betrayer…”

“He knew I wouldn’t mind,” Yoongi reasons. “He said that if he didn’t tell me you  two would just pine for longer than you already had.”

“He’s right,” Jungkook chuckles. They stand in silence for a few seconds. “You love me, hyung.”

“I do, yeah.”

“No, I mean like, I’m the person you love the most in the entire world.”

“Alright, let’s not get crazy now…”

“And, as the person you love the most,” Jungkook continues, fighting all of his deep rooted shyness. “I will this time and this time only, thank you for being so cool about me and your best friend.”

Yoongi sighs so heavily Jungkook can’t help but giggle. 

“Just please, try to be normal about each other…” Yoongi asks, pouting. “You two are very… a lot right now.”

“That’s because there’s a lot of pent-up—”

“Please,” Yoongi interrupts, whining. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

Jungkook zips his lips and leans in, pressing a quick kiss to his brother’s damp cheek. At first, Yoongi fights his smile, but it soon spreads into a full grin. 

When he turns, Jungkook’s eyes meet Namjoon’s. He’s standing at the edge of the pool in all of his wet, half-naked glory, a beer in hand and a smile on his face. And if he had any restrain left, then, Jungkook watches as it disintegrates in slow motion right in front of his eyes. He can’t stay in that pool a second longer! Not when Namjoon looks like that, not with the promise of being up all night prickling under his skin. 

Jungkook swims to the edge and pulls himself up, heart hammering at the way Namjoon’s eyes never leave him, all dark and fond and terribly dreamy. 

Standing right in front of him, dripping from head to toe, Jungkook breathes;

“Let’s go.”

Namjoon’s smile turns into a smirk and he nods; no questions, no hesitation. Jungkook barely has time to grab a towel before Namjoon is already moving, both of them wordlessly angling toward the narrow walkway along the side of the house.

“Are you really sneaking out through the garden gate?” Jimin shouts, laughing. “Shameless!”

“Let them be,” Jieun giggles. “They’re young.”

“We are practically the same age,” Namjoon murmurs, but Jungkook doesn’t think anyone but him can hear it because, on top of the blasting music, every single one of his friends are cheering and edging them on, and if he wasn’t so entirely occupied with being happy and horny as fuck, Jungkook would have spared some of his body to feel mortification.

Namjoon holds his hand, pulling him toward the side path, the noise fading behind them as they slip out of sight between the narrow strip. Once alone, Namjoon stops walking, turning to catch Jungkook’s face in his wet hands and pressing a long, breathtaking kiss to his lips. It’s urgent, and warm, and everything Jungkook has ever wanted, but somehow more. He feels like a teenager all over again, kissing the boy he’s had a crush on for the longest time, hidden from view from all of their screaming friends. 

And perhaps Namjoon just meant to give him a peck, but he truly underestimated how fucking horny Jungkook can be if that was the case because soon they are pressed against the wall, all wet and sticky with chlorine, rubbing their dripping shorts together, moaning heavily into each other’s mouths. 

Jungkook’s hands wander up Namjoon’s back until his fingers find the rough texture of his buzzcut, tongue rolling inside the older man’s mouth, gasping around the taste of beer and chlorine, desire burning so deep within him he feels kind of insane. 

“We have to go,” Namjoon breathes on his mouth, hips digging into Jungkook’s, semihard cocks bumping over the shorts. “I need, fuck, I need you.”

And if these aren’t the best words ever said in the history of forever. 

“Your place or mine?” Jungkook asks, leaning his head back. 

Namjoon runs his thumb over his wet, swollen bottom lip. 

“Which one is closest?”

Jungkook’s fantasies have always been very vivid, and he’s daydreamed about the scenario that currently plays out more times than he will ever admit — not even under oath — but being thrown onto Namjoon’s bed and actually watching him kneel in between his spread thighs to pull Jungkook’s damp shorts off him and wrap his lips around the head of his cock?

No fantasy has ever been that good. Not even close. 

Namjoon keeps his eyes on him the whole time, bobbing his head up and down Jungkook’s length, slicking his cock with spit. Pleasure runs through Jungkook in violent waves; the hollow of Namjoon’s cheeks, the tight suck, the way he looks up at him with those heavy, sinful eyes… it’s all so much, so deeply everything Jungkook’s ever wanted, that it’s commendable he doesn’t cum right then and there, three minutes in. 

“Hyung,” Jungkook breathes, holding his weight by his elbows, nipples hard, belly tightening. Namjoon moves his head up, circling his tongue over Jungkook’s sensitive slit and the younger man whines, throwing his head back. “Fuck.”

“Look at me,” Namjoon murmurs, his lips brushing the sensitive tip. Jungkook obeys instantly, dragging his gaze down. He bites his lip, a shaky whine escaping when he sees Namjoon’s mouth shine with spit, a thin string connecting his cock to Namjoon’s lips.

“Holy fuck,” Jungkook heaves, cock twisting in Namjoon’s hand, pathetically oozing precome onto the man’s fingers. 

“You look so fucked out already, baby,” Namjoon says, eyes dark and pleased. “And we’ve barely even started.”

And Jungkook, who always seems to have a joke ready on the tip of his tongue or tucked in one of the many chaotic corners of his overcrowded mind, feels himself lose the ability to be funny entirely.

“Come here,” he hushes, not caring in the slightest how much it sounds like a plea. He reaches out for him and Namjoon, insane as he obviously is, presses a wet kiss to his dick before doing as he’s told. Jungkook chuckles in the haze of his pleasure, so hot and happy he doesn’t know what to do with himself. “You’re so…”

“Yes?” Namjoon hums, but then he kisses him, wet and wide and open, and Jungkook loses all train of thought, tasting himself on Namjoon’s tongue as he holds the other man by the waist, pulling his hips against his own.

They breathe into each other’s mouths, bodies moving together in haze and want. Jungkook’s skin is on fire, heaving breaths as he pushes Namjoon’s shorts down and wraps a hand around his already achingly hard cock. The older man grunts, fingers digging on Jungkook’s naked hips, desperate moans pushing out of his lips straight into Jungkook’s as he jerks him off. 

“I want you,” he chokes, pressing a thumb on Namjoon’s slit, rejoicing in the way it makes the older man tremble.

“I’m right here,” Namjoon replies, dragging his lips over his jaw, moaning softly whenever Jungkook grips him a little tighter. “So good, baby. Let me take care of you.”

It’s all so heightened, so warm, so slow. Namjoon sucks on his neck, mouths along his ear, licks over Jungkook’s hard nipples, working him up in the cruelest and yet most satisfying of ways. He rolls his tongue inside Jungkook’s mouth, taking everything that’s been offered to him, and repeats, over and over again, like a mantra:

“You’re so beautiful, baby, so, so beautiful.”

Jungkook holds him close, nails dragging over Namjoon’s back as the older man grips both of their cocks, dragging them together as their bodies move as one. 

“Namjoon,” he gasps, feeling so wet, so hard, so overwhelmed. “Please, I want you to... please, just… I need you to fuck me.”

“Are you sure?” Namjoon breathes back, lips on his ear, hand around their lengths. “We don’t have—”

“I want it,” Jungkook chokes, pulling his face toward his, kissing him wet and hard. “I really, really want it.”

“Okay, baby,” Namjoon replies, kissing him back. “Hyung’s gonna fuck you.”

Jungkook whines, the mere thought of it almost sending him over the edge. He squirms, feeling so overheated his entire body aches. Namjoon shushes him, running his hands up and down the sides of Jungkook’s body.  

“Hyung’s gonna take care of you, baby.”

Namjoon kisses him again and then his weight is gone. Jungkook blinks toward him, watching as Namjoon moves to his nightstand and grabs a pack of condoms and a clear bottle of lube, and yeah, his cheeks burn and he feels a bit shy, but then Namjoon’s over him, smiling that beautiful smile of his, and Jungkook lets all of these unimportant things slip to the back his mind.

“There’s no rush,” Namjoon whispers, kissing his lips, his jaw, his chest, his tummy and the dip on Jungkook’s hip. He runs the tips of his fingers on the inside of Jungkook’s thigh, eyes burning on his, and asks, ever so softly; “Open up for me?”

Being told what to do by Kim Namjoon? Sign him the fuck up! 

Jungkook spreads his legs as far as they can go and Namjoon smirks, licking over his lips as he mutters, all lustful and low:

“Good boy.”

And if Jungkook whines at the praise, that is between him and Namjoon only, alright? 

As is everything that happens next.

Namjoon opens him up, slow and patient, praises and dirty talk slipping off his lips only to slide over Jungkook’s overheated body, adding to the pulsing pleasure building up inside him every time Namjoon’s knuckles press against his rim.

His favorites are, in no particular order;

Look at you, baby, sucking me right in.

So good for hyung.

Opening up just for me, so pretty, baby.

Just one more, baby, one more until hyung can give you his cock. 

Being a good boy, Jungkook takes them all, breathing heavily, all open and ready, when Namjoon rolls a condom onto his — very overwhelming — length, lips parted, eyes drifting from his own cock to Jungkook’s face, all dark and sultry. Then he says, in that low register that makes Jungkook’s stretched out hole gape around nothing;

“How do you want me?” 

How do you want me! 

Jungkook licks over his lips, blushing high on his cheeks. “Inside me?”

Namjoon chuckles, hiding his face on his hands before moving atop of him, settling himself in between Jungkook’s shaky thighs. 

Jungkook will never forget how full he feels from the very start. 

The way the stretch of Namjoon’s cock makes him gasp and tremble, how every slow inch steals his breath. Namjoon kisses him deep as he sinks in, his thumb drawing lazy circles over Jungkook’s skin, moving slowly, carefully, giving him time to adjust to the deliciously overpowering way Namjoon’s cock opens him up. How Jungkook gasps, moans, even tears up from the sheer pleasure of having Namjoon’s girth dragging against his walls. How he holds onto the small of his back, desperate to have all of him inside, wanting more than anything to have it all in him, burning so good. 

And he will never forget how Namjoon wipes his tears away, asking if it’s too much, if Jungkook would like for him to pull out. 

“Don’t you dare,” Jungkook chokes, pulling him down for a kiss that is only broken by a mutual gasp when Namjoon finally sinks all the way inside. He stops, letting them both adjust to it, but Jungkook’s too horny. He needs, fuck, he just needs. “Move. Hyung, move.”

Jungkook’s fingers curl hard at the back of Namjoon’s neck, his breath catching as Namjoon drags his cock back out; slow, testing, only to push it into him again, deeper this time, finding a rhythm that has Jungkook whining into his mouth. 

The room’s quick to be filled by their sounds — the slapping of skin, the breathy moans, the high-pitched whines — and Jungkook holds onto him, breath hot against Namjoon’s ear as the older man’s head is buried into the crook of his neck, pounding into him hard and fast. 

Jungkook pushes his hips up, meeting his every thrust halfway. Pleasure pulls at his very core, punched out of him in broken sounds each time Namjoon’s hips smack against his ass. Sweat runs down Jungkook’s spine, clinging to his skin, heat running so high the room feels foggy with. With them. Namjoon moans, dragging his lips over Jungkook’s jaw only to press their mouths together in a broken, wet kiss, full of teeth and tongue, pleasure and lust. 

“Hyung,” Jungkook whines, a string of saliva connecting their lips as Namjoon shifts to hold his legs up by the back of his knees, plunging his cock into him. “I’m gonna… I’m so… close.”

“Cum for me, baby,” Namjoon stutters, breath uneven. He looks so fucked out, so lost in it. Lips swollen, eyebrows knit together. Jungkook holds his nape, pulling him down for another kiss, whining as the pressure keeps building inside him, higher and higher, until everything Jungkook can hear is the wet slap of Namjoon hammering his cock into him and the high-pitched moans that spill from his lips into Namjoon’s mouth. 

He cums with a loud cry, tears spilling down the sides of his face as Namjoon wraps a firm hand around his cock and milks him through it, thrusting into him until Jungkook is a shivering, oversensitive mess. 

“Too much now,” Jungkook gasps and Namjoon stops, kissing him deeply, wetly. 

Namjoon warns him before pulling out, but Jungkook still winces at the loss. He lies there, loose-limbed and dazed, hand resting over his stomach as Namjoon slips off the condom, ties it, and tosses it aside. His cock’s still hard, so Jungkook takes a hand to his shoulder and softly pushes him down.

“Let me,” Jungkook murmurs, curling his fingers around the leaking length.

Now on top, he finally gets to watch Namjoon fall apart. He strokes him steadily, whispering praise into his mouth; half-delirious, extremely filthy things that make Namjoon whine and moan, cock throbbing and twisting in his hand until he chokes out Jungkook’s name and spills all over his fingers.

And, among all the countless things Jungkook shall never forget about the first — of too many to count — time he had sex with Kim Namjoon, the smile that the older man offers him when he comes down from his high, all blissed out and glowing, is definitely at the very top. 

“Hey, handsome,” a man whispers in his ear, and even before Jungkook turns around, he’s already sighing. “Ah, why the face?”

“You’re bothering me,” Jungkook says, sipping his drink through the straw. The guy is maybe an inch taller, and he’s pretty sure that same dude hit on him last summer, but if he ever told Jungkook his name, it definitely didn’t stick. “You can go now.”

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that,” the man laughs, reaching for Jungkook’s elbow when he tries to step away. “Hey, that’s not nice. I’m talking to you.”

Jungkook yanks his arm back and drives his elbow into the guy’s stomach when he reaches for him again. The man doubles forward with a cough.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he wheezes. “You could’ve just said no!”

“I did,” Jungkook sighs, raking a hand through his hair. “You were just not listening.”

When he turns around, he finds his best friend, his brother, and his boyfriend all staring at him while sitting on the bar’s stools.

“Fuck yeah!” Mingyu cheers, throwing him the rock-on sign.

“Good one,” Yoongi says with a proud nod.

“You’re so sexy when you’re confrontational,” Namjoon mutters, smirking.

Yoongi throws him a side glance, sighing. “Why I said yes to this outing is beyond me…”

“Because you love us,” Jungkook reasons, wrapping his arms around Namjoon’s shoulders, glad to fit perfectly in between his thighs. He pecks his lips. “Should I’ve said I had a boyfriend instead of getting violent, jagiya?”

“Nah,” Namjoon rasps, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “The violence turned me on.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Yoongi grunts, getting to his feet. “I’m gonna go find Jieun…”

Mingyu stands, too. “And I’m gonna go anywhere else because I know you two are about to get heavily disgusting, so.”

“Bye,” Jungkook waves, laughing.

Namjoon pulls him in for a kiss. Naturally, Jungkook melts right into it. 

“So,” his boyfriend mutters against his lips, caressing Jungkook’s cheek. “Our six month anniversary is coming up. What do you wanna do?”

“Watch movies in bed and have a lot of sexual intercourse.”

“Because I knew you were going to say that, I booked us a hotel room with Netflix access.”

“Really?” Jungkook gapes, grinning. “Where?”

“Japan.”

Jungkook blinks, leaning his head back. “Japan?!”

“Yeah, you told me it was your dream vacay and since our anniversary is coming around the same time you’re graduating…”

“You’re the best boyfriend ever, did you know that?”

Namjoon hums, pulling him in for another kiss. “Is that my role in your life?”

“For now,” Jungkook replies, never nervous about being vulnerable with Namjoon. “We’ll eventually upgrade it.”

“Fiancé,” Namjoon murmurs, kissing him again. “Husband.”

“You get the gist,” Jungkook smiles against his mouth, deepening the kiss.

As the club’s neon lights shine over their heads and the blasting pop music reverberates in their ears, Jungkook and Namjoon make out, being every bit disgustingly in love as they deserve to be.