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army4lifebby · 29 days ago

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Close Proximity

✾ Pairing - NonidolJungkook x FemYn

♡ Genre - Romance, longing.

☆ Wc - 3k

✤ Warnings: Mentions of s*x, kissing, drinking.

✥ A/n - This is chapter one. I hope you enjoy it! ♡

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A room wasn’t supposed to feel this small. Not with twenty or so people laughing, mingling, and filling every corner. But somehow, he made it feel that way.

Jeon Jungkook.

Leaning against the far wall, he looked criminally good in a black button-up and ripped jeans, his presence swallowing the space around him. The walls felt like they were caving in on me, pressing closer with every stolen glance. He was far away, yet somehow unbearably close.

I tried to anchor myself in the surroundings, advertising my attention elsewhere. The soft music playing in the background. The faint clinking of glasses. Streamers swaying from the ceiling, catching the light in their shimmering colors. The air, heavy with the scent of freshly popped champagne. But it was useless. My gaze found its way back to him, again and again, like a moth to a flame.

I wasn’t even supposed to be here. Kanning had dragged me along and squeezed me into this ridiculous red dress that left little to the imagination. Don’t get me wrong, I liked partying. But after the Christmas party two weeks ago, my mind had been spiraling, and the thought of being in the same room as Jungkook again felt… dangerous.

Kanning had sworn this “New Year’s hangout” would be low-key. But it was anything but that.

“Y/N, you good?” Kanning’s elbow nudged me, pulling me out of my head.

“Yeah,” I lied, clutching my drink like it could shield me from my unraveling thoughts. “Just… tired.”

Tired of pretending I didn’t notice the way Jungkook’s dark eyes kept flicking toward me, scanning me like I was the only thing in the room worth seeing.

“You’re staring,” Kanning teased, her voice laced with mischief as she followed my gaze.

“I’m not,” I snapped, too fast, too defensive. My cheeks flared with heat, a traitorous reaction I couldn’t hide.

Her grin widened. “You should just talk to him. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Everything, I thought, but I didn’t say it. Instead, I let my eyes betray me again, drifting back to him. He wasn’t looking at me anymore. He was laughing with a group of friends, his head thrown back, carefree and so at ease. Meanwhile, I felt like my chest was full of fireworks, the pressure building, ready to burst.

We weren’t strangers. Not exactly. Just two people orbiting the same social circle, skimming the edges of familiarity. That, and the fact that two weeks ago, at that Christmas party, we’d shared a drunken, sloppy hookup. Neither of us had been brave enough to address it since.

“I don’t know...” I muttered, downing another gulp of my drink, as if it could drown the memory.

Kanning sighed dramatically. “Y/N, come on. Is this still about that night at the—”

“Shh!” I clapped a hand over her mouth, panic snapping through me. My eyes darted around the room, but no one seemed to be paying attention. “Don’t you dare say another word!”

She peeled my hand away, laughing softly. “Aw, is someone shy?”

“Shut up. It's embarrassing,” I hissed, my face burning as I stared down into my drink. The memory of that morning hit me like a freight train: waking up in Kanning’s guest bedroom, tangled in sheets that weren’t mine, Jungkook’s warm body too close, too familiar. And Kanning’s horrified yelp when she found us.

I barely remembered the night itself—blurry edges of too much wine and not enough restraint. But what I did remember… Oh, God. He was good. Too good.

Kanning nudged me again, her laughter fading into something softer, something almost kind. “It’s not embarrassing. You like him. It’s obvious.”

“I don’t…” I started, but the words died on my tongue as Jungkook glanced in my direction again. This time, he held my gaze, just for a moment, before turning back to his friends.

My heart thudded painfully in my chest. “Okay, maybe I do.”

Kanning’s grin returned, smug and triumphant. “Then what are you waiting for?”

The fireworks in my chest threatened to go off. “The end of the world, maybe.”

She rolled her eyes, but her teasing faded. “You don’t have to be afraid, you know.”

I wanted to believe her. I really did. But Jungkook wasn’t just a guy I liked. He was the guy who made the walls close in, who made me feel too much, too fast. And if I let myself fall, I wasn’t sure I’d survive the landing.

It had to be just a silly little crush, but I’d never felt like this before.

“I do have to be afraid… What if he only saw me as a meaningless hookup?” I sighed, glancing into Kanning’s eyes and catching the flicker of sadness in hers.

She put a hand on my shoulder, her voice gentle. “Trust me, Y/N, Jungkook isn’t like that. I’ve known him since middle school, and he just isn’t that type of person. Take my word for it, bae.”

I nodded softly, nibbling on my bottom lip. My eyes drifted to him again, and just the sight of him brought back that morning—the way he’d left so quickly, like he was shocked he’d been with someone like me. My chest tightened, pain flickering through my body.

“I want to…” I murmured, looking back at her, my voice barely above a whisper.

Kanning’s hand gave my shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Then do it. You’ve got nothing to lose.”

But that wasn’t true. It felt like I had everything to lose.

_ _ _

_ _

She was here. Y/N.

I told myself it didn’t matter, that she was just another face in the crowd, someone I saw now and then through mutual friends. But the second she walked into the room, it felt like the air shifted, like she carried her own gravity, pulling everything—including me—into her orbit.

Her in that tight red dress, every curve brought out so effortlessly, like it had been made just for her. It made my chest ache in a way I couldn’t explain, like I wanted to fold in on myself and stay invisible—anything to keep from giving away the fact that she had me completely undone.

She looked different tonight. Less guarded. More flushed, her laughter softer and less rehearsed than the times I’d seen her before. But it wasn’t her laugh I remembered most—it was that night.

That night at the Christmas party. When too much alcohol had blurred the lines between want and need. When my hands had memorized the shape of her, like letting go would have killed me. Two weeks had passed, and I hadn’t stopped thinking about her. About the way she’d felt. About the way I’d left.

It haunted me. She haunted me.

I leaned against the wall, forcing a mask of indifference as Tae rattled on about something I’d already heard before. My eyes betrayed me every few seconds, slipping past him to find her again. She was fidgeting with her drink, nodding to Kanning’s words but clearly distracted, her gaze darting around the room. And when her eyes landed on me, even for the briefest moment, my pulse slammed into overdrive.

“Yo, Jungkook, you even listening?” Tae’s voice cut through my thoughts, and I blinked, tearing my gaze away from her.

“Yeah, I’m here,” I muttered, though my attention was already slipping back to her.

I wanted to cross the room. To close the impossible distance between us. But what would I even say? Hey, remember me? The guy who ran out like a coward after taking everything you had to give? My stomach twisted, the shame of that morning gnawing at me.

“You’re hopeless, dude,” Tae scoffed, his tone tinged with irritation. “Just talk to her already. You’ve been obsessing over her for weeks. It’s getting painful to watch.”

I sighed, grabbing a drink from a passing tray, if only to give my hands something to do other than reach for her. The memory of that night burned behind my eyes—the way she’d felt against me, like she belonged there. It wasn’t just chemistry; it was something more, something I couldn’t shake.

“I don’t know what to say,” I admitted, running a hand through my hair.

Tae groaned dramatically, throwing his head back like I was the biggest lost cause he’d ever seen. “Bro, I’ve taught you so much about girls, and now it’s like you’ve forgotten everything. Just go. Talk. To. Her.”

“It’s different with her,” I blurted before I could stop myself.

Tae’s brow shot up, his curiosity piqued. “Oh, so it’s lust?”

“What? No!” My voice came out sharper than I intended, my chest tightening at the thought. But that word—lust—dragged me back to memories I’d been trying to suppress. Her skin beneath my fingertips, the way she’d said my name like it was the only word that mattered.

“Well, that’s what it sounds like to me,” Tae shrugged, swiping my drink and downing it like it was nothing.

“It’s not,” I said through gritted teeth, but even as I denied it, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something deeper, something I didn’t know how to name.

I glanced back to where she’d been standing, but my heart stopped when I realized she wasn’t there anymore. Panic bloomed in my chest as my eyes darted around the room, searching for her. Kanning was still there, chatting with someone else, but Y/N—she was gone.

“Jungkook?” Tae’s voice was a distant echo, drowned out by the thundering of my pulse.

And then I saw her, slipping out onto the balcony, her silhouette framed by the soft glow of the moonlight. Before I could think, my feet were moving, closing the distance between us like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I didn’t know what I’d say when I reached her. All I knew was that I couldn’t let her slip away again.

_ _ _

_ _

The cool night air was like a balm against my skin, soothing the heat that had been building inside me since the moment I walked into that room. The muffled sounds of laughter and music from the party followed me out, but here on the balcony, it felt distant—like I’d stepped into another world.

I leaned against the railing, my hands gripping the cold metal as I tried to steady my breathing. The city stretched out before me, glittering and alive, but my thoughts were anything but calm.

I shouldn’t have come.

I shouldn’t have let Kanning convince me to wear this dress, to show up at the same place I knew he’d be. Jeon Jungkook. The name alone was enough to send my heart spiraling.

The memory of him had been haunting me for weeks—the way his lips had felt against mine, the way his hands had claimed me like I was something precious. But it wasn’t the heat of that night that kept me up; it was the way he’d left, so quickly, so quietly, like he couldn’t get away fast enough.

I closed my eyes, exhaling slowly, trying to push the thought of him out of my head.

“Couldn’t handle it in there either?”

The voice—deep, familiar—shattered my moment of peace.

I turned sharply, my breath catching in my throat. Jungkook was there, standing just a few feet away, his hands tucked into his pockets, his dark eyes locked on me. The way his teeth tugged at his lip piercing made my chest tighten, and suddenly the cold night air felt too warm.

“I just needed some air,” I managed to say, hating how unsteady my voice sounded.

He stepped closer, the space between us shrinking, and it was like every nerve in my body went on high alert. I could smell him now—something clean and woodsy, the same scent I remembered from that night.

“Me too,” he said simply, his gaze never leaving mine.

I swallowed, trying to focus on the city lights, on the sounds of the cars below—anything but him. But it was impossible. The air between us felt charged, like the entire world was holding its breath.

He moved to stand beside me, leaning against the railing, his arm so close to mine that I could feel the faint warmth radiating from him. I didn’t dare look at him, not directly.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he said, his voice softer now, almost tender.

“So are you,” I replied, surprised by the steadiness of my tone.

I glanced at him then, just briefly, and the way he was looking at me made my stomach flip. There was something intense in his eyes, something I couldn’t quite name, and it made me feel both vulnerable and alive.

“Touché,” he said with a small smile, and it was that smile—the one that seemed to break through every wall I had—that nearly undid me.

I wanted to say something. Anything. To fill the silence, to push past the tension that hung between us like a string stretched to its breaking point. But the words stuck in my throat.

“Jungkook…” I began, but my voice faltered, and I cursed myself for sounding so unsure.

He leaned his face even closer to mine, his hand brushing against my own, and the contact sent a jolt through me. My breath hitched, and I hated how transparent I was, how easily he could affect me.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice so quiet it was almost lost in the night.

But I didn’t.

I couldn’t.

Because no matter how much I told myself to let this go, to walk away before I got hurt again, the truth was, I didn’t want him to stop.

His lips tasted like honey and something sweeter—something I couldn’t name but already knew I was addicted to.

The second our lips touched once more, the world faded. There was no party, no countdown, no noise. Just her.

His hands found their way to my hips, gripping the fabric of my dress like he was afraid to let go. I didn’t plan on giving him the chance.

The kiss deepened, and I backed up onto the railing, my back touching the cold metal. My hands ran over his chest, gripping the fabric before going to his hair. He fit perfectly against me, soft and warm, and I felt the faintest tremor run through him.

"Jungkook," I whispered, my voice laced with hesitation.

He pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, his forehead resting against mine.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

My answer came in the form of another kiss, this one hungrier, more certain.

I lost track of time after that, lost in his warmth, his scent, the way his body melted into mine.

Whatever this was—whatever we were—I wasn’t ready to let it go. Not tonight.

Until the sound of the door closing shattered the moment, of course.

I pulled back, panting and my heart stopping as I turned to see who had walked out—as did Jungkook.

It was Jimin, one of our mutual friends. My face heated instantly, and I looked away, mortified.

Jungkook stepped back too, clearing his throat and awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. Jimin stood frozen in place, his mouth hanging open in shock.

“Y-You two…” he stammered, pointing a finger at me, then at Jungkook.

“No! It’s not what it looks like,” Jungkook blurted, his voice rushed.

My shoulders slumped as my heart clenched painfully. What was it then?

“I mean… I—” he stopped himself mid-sentence, his words failing him.

Jimin cleared his throat, sensing the awkward tension, and gestured back toward the apartment. “Uh… I was just looking for everyone. We’re gathering in the living room for the countdown. Five minutes left.”

“Right… Uh, Kanning must be looking for me,” I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper. Without waiting for a response, I walked past Jimin into the apartment, my eyes downcast. My hands trembled as I tried to process what had just happened.

I wanted to talk, to get to know him. Not kiss him! Oh God, what have I done?

I cursed myself silently, my stomach twisting with regret and confusion. For the rest of the night, Jungkook and I kept our distance, though our stolen glances said everything we couldn’t.

I tried to distract myself, to pretend I was having fun, but the truth was undeniable: this wasn’t the end of something. If anything, it was just the beginning.

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