[BAD DECISION #42] Hitting Where It Hurts
warnings: 'chess' :(, arguments, waaaa, jungkook is, once more, so painfully cewt :( perilla leaves! gasp... healthy... communication?? glitter koo! starluvrs <3
notes: im literally on a train back home from seoul as I schedule this, everyone say thank u korail wifi for being a bd enabler <3 but it's also why there's only one update again!! sorrryyy - I'll be better organised next week (famous last words)
wc: 8.7K
bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)
AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI
"Piss off," you hiss with lethal venom when Jeongguk chases after you.
Shaking off the light grip he has on your arm. You continue walking away, not really where you're heading to. Away. That's all you can think of. All you want. Space. Separation
The skies above you are grey; clouds hiding away the early evening sun that's due to paint the skies in pretty purple bruises to match the ones on your heart.
"Byeol-" He tries again, voice desperate.
You turn to face him, arms folded over your chest, and are greeted with the exact same Jeongguk you had just stormed away from.
"I said to piss off. "
Chest bare, shorts on his lower half, he's everything that makes you salivate - and yet you feel sick, now. Hair damp, the small sheen of red looks buffed out, as if she tried to smudge it away while in pursuit of you - but the stain lingers. It always does.
Jeongguk's arms outstretch, then slap back down to his sides. He shakes his head in a little disbelief, as if he's the one questioning you. Is agitated in his tone when he speaks.
"Whatever you think just happened, didn't . You can't just storm off-"
"Oh, but I can," you smile at him, as if your eyes aren't thinly veiled daggers.
Turning on your heel once more, you decide against giving him the time of day.
Blood running far too hot within you veins, you know you'll only do damage if you discuss things with him now - but Jeongguk knows he has to talk about it with you now, otherwise you'll just try and sweep it under the carpet when you've cooled down.
It's how you always do it; hot in your immediate fury and frightfully cold in the aftermath.
A defence mechanism taught and reinforced by past relationships, it continues to wreck your ability to deal with things healthily. Whenever your ex would fuck up, he'd refuse to speak about it, and frustrate you to absolutely no end. Would anger you, and still, nothing. So you'd mellow. Give up trying.
The process is so worn into your existence now that you don't even realise why you get so annoyed in the first place, only to act like it's no big deal a little while later. Think that is just natural; that hurt, like a bomb, just explodes. Is white hot, until it's not, and all you're left with is debris and destruction.
"Please," Jeongguk says quietly.
Doesn't want to draw attention to what's happening. Other people don't need to know your business. Wants that bubble you were both in earlier to remain protected - but the lock has been picked, and the steel reinforcements are starting to collapse. It's only a matter of time until it all comes crashing down.
"No," is all you say.
"It wasn't what it looked like."
"It doesn't matter," you say softly, trying to respond rationally - but it comes across as a little psychotic. You know damn well it does.
Casting your eyes down to the ground, a slight shake to your head. The air around you is cold, waves crashing against the shoreline. It's a sombre state of affairs; the skies just as grey as your heart.
Walking a little closer towards Jeongguk, it seems as if the chill in the air has settled the red-hot blood screeching in your veins. Comes as a surprise to you both.
You're learning, or so it would seem.
Just because he continually makes the same mistakes of the past doesn't mean you will, too. You've a point to prove.
You sigh. Shrug your shoulders. Fuck it.
"Look," you offer with an air of maturity, trying a more level-headed approach.
It gets his head tilting. Was expecting war, and was perfectly willing to battle against it just for you to hear his truth. This... this is new.
"I don't know what led to the scene I walked in on - but I do know that you made consecutive, considered choices to get there," you assert. "What I saw is a product of your own choices and your total lack of consideration for me, Gguk. So, I don't wanna hear it. Save it for someone who cares - cause if you don't give a shit about me, why should I give one about you."
Okay, so maybe that air of maturity is a little clouded with childishness. So what?
"That's not fair," he pleads, needy in his tone, eyes soft as he tries to convey just how painfully he wishes he could undo it all - not that he even thinks he's done anything wrong. "Let me-"
"Maybe it's not fair," you admit, cutting him off with a sad shrug of your shoulders. At this point, you're not willing to discuss it rationally in any depth, but you also don't want to argue. Not really. Will only cause you more hurt. "But it is what it is. I'll see you at dinner."
"B, c'mon just hear-"
"Chess."
Ouch .
He shuts up immediately. Looks at you with such excruciating pain you wouldn't be surprised to see the red smudge on his chest begin to trickle with blood. Doesn't understand how a day that started in him declaring just how much he likes you is ending like this.
Perhaps that's the issue. Maybe he was toying with the strings of fate a little too prematurely. They might just be snapping back into place. That's all.
This is exactly why you knew better than to make any admission of your feelings.
Jeongguk's intentions are never bad, but sometimes his decisions are. Sometimes the choices he makes are the wrong ones.
You wish he would have chosen you.
In that moment, regardless of what transpired, you wish he would have chosen you.
Taken a step back, and said 'no .'
But he didn't.
And so you don't care for his excuses or his explanations. You don't care for the truth, because you're already reeling in your own.
Jeon Jeongguk is too good to be true.
You've always known this. He's too kind. Too funny. Too handsome. There always had to be a catch, and you've learned it the hard way: he's too forgiving.
And so you'll take it upon yourself to be everything he's not.
You'll be unkind. You'll find no humour in his jokes. Won't forgive him for how foolish he's made you feel.
Scatter-brained, you can't make heads or tails of your emotions. Pangs of heat, of burning anger, flare up and cool instantly. You're shades of red and green, and looking at Jeongguk only gets them muddled. Murky.
"Can you stop being like this?" Jeongguk eventually sighs, exasperated by his own desperation. "You know-"
"I'm not being like anything," you say, voice flat. "I just don't want to have this conversation right now."
"But we need to have this conversation," he replies immediately. His eyes scan your face, trying to get a read on you - but you're stoic. Refuse to give anything away. Spent your university years playing poker with your housemates. Can keep this up all night, if you really need to.
"No. What we need, Jeongguk, is-"
"To talk," he interrupts. "You won't even let me explain myself."
"Because I don't need an explanation," you insist, indifference just as hurtful as anger. "Look, it's fine. Consider that little label we agreed on earlier on a free trial. Money back guarantee if returned within five working days."
"I don't want my fucking money back," he spits, finally raising his voice a little. Knows you've the ability to be unreasonable, but rarely ever has to deal with it. Is used to your brattiness, but normally only when in pursuit of gratification. This is different. There's no pleasure gained from this, for either of you.
"It's already been deposited into your bank," you say with a smile. "Shame."
You don't want anything from him right now. Not even this conversation. Just want him to piss off, exactly like you told him to earlier.
"Fine," he snaps back.
"Fine!"
"Oh, grow up," he snarls, turning on his heel and heading back toward the house you'd both just left.
Typical. Always goes back.
But then the reality of his words weigh down on your chest.
Words uttered to you in the height of your glitterless days, when your heart used to get toyed around with sharp claws belonging to a man who'd look at you with kitten-like innocence.
Grow up.
Jeongguk pauses. Turns to face you. There's a shock to his expression. Surprise, as if he wasn't the one who just uttered words that he knows will tear apart the now-healed wounds left by Seokjin.
Silence lingers in the air between you. Down by the shore, the waves crash and crescendo, fading out into the abyss until they inevitably repeat as they always do.
There's a comfort to the ocean.
It's vast, and terrifying, yes, but it's also ever predictable. The waves will always roll. The creatures will always swim. The current will always change. Predictably unpredictable is the ocean, and you like it that way.
You've always thought you liked change. Liked the excitement that came with it.
Sitting here now, you realise you hate change. Hate what you can't control.
You wonder what Jeongguk's thinking about. If he's thinking at all, or if he's just focusing on the sound of the waves, too. If his heart feels just as horrible as yours does. It's as if he's taken it and rolled it around in the sand. It's gritty. Grainy. Marred in remnants of lifetimes lived before you came to be.
You want it back. Want to rinse your heart out in the waves that are rolling in, and place it back in your chest. You don't care if it will sting. Don't care about anything else - you just don't want to feel so stupid all the fucking time.
This is exactly why you weren't supposed to fall for Jeongguk. This is why it was never supposed to elevate to more than what it was. This is why it was so stupid of you to indulge in the idea of what if.
Shaking your head, eyes warm with tears that you refuse to let fall, you feel like you have nothing left to give.
But you do have the ability to bite back just as hard. You know you shouldn't - but you're hurt, and you want to hurt him too.
"You sound just like him."
If you thought Jeongguk looked devastated before, then you've no idea how to describe the way he falls apart now.
Though he remains on his feet, body strong, his eyes sink into a darkness you've never known. His posture slopes. Everything about him reduces like wood to ash in the midst of a forest fire. 'Anguish' sounds far too violent for the gentle way in which Jeongguk quietly crumbles, but it's the only thing that's remotely apt for his current expression.
"Don't compare me to him," he says. Swallows. "It's not fair."
But love and war never is.
"Don't do the same shit he did," you counter. "Then maybe I won't."
No goodbye is offered as you turn on your heel and head towards the house that Danbi's been staying in.
Jeongguk doesn't try to stop you this time. For some reason, even though you don't want to speak to him, you find that it only hurts even more.
But no matter how hurt you may feel, Danbi promises to hurt him tenfold.
"That little git," she hisses, quite frankly shocked by not only the argument you've just explained but also the circumstances that lead to it. She thinks perhaps he's self-sabotaging now that things are too good. Thinks, more likely, that he's just a twat who thinks with his dick.
And as much as she could rant and rave about how much of a swine he is, and how little he deserves you, it's not a conversation you want to be having.
She promises not to shout out at him - "I'm only doing this for Seoyeon and Yoongi. Anywhere else and I'd curse him out so badly I'd get locked up." - and tries to distract you with false deliberations over what she wants to wear. She's had it planned all day, but lets you 'help' choose her dress regardless.
"Go for the green," you nod, when Danbi holds up two nearly identical dresses. The only difference is that once is a pretty mint green and floor length, while the other is black and cuts off midway up her thigh. "Tae got a shirt that could coordinate?"
"Not sure, she hums, looking across the clothing rail where he's keeping his clothes. There's a crisp white dress shirt, a little oversized and relaxed, but so perfectly Taehyung. You know that together they'll look like they're off to Monaco, or some place fancy like that.
It's nice how interwoven Danbi and Taehyung have become; so entirely different and complementary all in the same vein. Like olive oil and balsamic vinegar, they really are the perfect pair. Maybe you can just be a baguette. Be the third wheel for all of eternity. That'd do nicely.
When you think about it, you're not even entirely sure what you saw by Jeongguk's door.
The mark on his chest could have been anything. Maybe he'd had a scratch? And he wears shades of grey near constantly . Maybe it was an article of his clothing on his bed?
But then you realise you're gaslighting yourself. You know what you saw.
Shuffling into her dress, Danbi holds her hair up for you to do her zipper. The dress finishes midway down her calves, and is ever so slinky. It highlights her figure in the best of ways, and she really does look gorgeous.
"Is it too much?" she asks, but you shake your head.
"As long as you don't upstage Seoyeon, you'll be fine - but I think she said she's wearing white, anyway. You'll be fine," you smile.
Still in your clothes from the Jilympics, you know you need to get ready. Don't want to go back to the house - so Danbi runs over to grab your bag and brings it back to her room. Gives Taehyung his shirt and tells him to get changed in the bathroom. Priorities.
"Figured you'd want this," she says, hooking up a dress on the back of the door. It's already on a hanger, but isn't one you recognise. Nabi's maybe, accidentally picked up from the common area - or worse still, Hayun's.
It's not really Hayun's style, and is too short for Nabi. Her legs go on for days, and the dress would barely cover her ass.
"Not mine," you say - but will admit, it is gorgeous.
"Hmm?" she hums. "Judas gave it to me as I was leaving. Said you'd want it."
Standing opposite the dress, you tilt your head. It's a cowl neck mini-dress. Silver. Covered in sparkles. If you didn't know better, you'd think it was a replica of Paris Hilton's iconic 21st birthday dress - just a little more tailored to your body shape. Slightly higher neckline, just to preserve a little bit more of the parts of your body Jeongguk adores.
"Or," Danbi begins to suggest, sensing that this was a gift intended to be given under far different circumstances. "Wear my black dress instead."
It's rare for you two to share clothes, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Once Tae is finished in the bathroom, Danbi leaves you to get ready. The dress situation plays over in your head - and it only serves to confuse you even more.
You've no idea what Jeongguk is thinking. Is feeling. What he wants, nor who he wants.
The sad thing is, you think that might be the issue: he just simply doesn't know who he wants.
Doesn't want you enough, evidently. They never do.
And it's funny, 'cause Jeongguk swears he can hear how his heart breaks when you walk into the main house later that evening, body wrapped in black satin, the dress he got for you still on the back of Danbi's door.
There's a tiny peek of lace from your bra that accents the low neckline of the black dress, and he hates that he knows exactly which set you're wearing. Knows he packed the full set for you, and that there's a corset-style garter belt that fits snugs around your waist somewhere close by.
He's got no idea if you're wearing it - and has no intention of finding out, either.
You're not concerned with making an entrance, and head straight over to Seoyeon first and enthuse with her over her pretty white dress - "Look at you!" "No, look at you!" - You give her a hug so tight Jeongguk can almost feel it. He pouts.
There's a spare seat beside him, and he already knows you won't be sitting in it.
But there are appearances to keep up, you think. Know that if you sit anywhere else, questions may be asked. It will be less noticeable to the others that you won't exchange a single word with him if you're sitting directly beside him.
The physical distance would indicate an emotional one too, and you really don't want to highlight it.
And so you sit beside him.
"B," he begins, but you shake your head.
He could just be greeting you, but he says the term of endearment in such a tone that you know means a little more than just casual formalities. Now is not the time for such conversations.
"Don't," you say quietly, so that no one else hears.
From your peripherals, you can see him sit up a little straighter, adjusting the dress shirt he's wearing. You've deliberately not given much of a second look. Don't want to see what he's chosen to wear - though you know it's a white shirt.
You feel insecure about your choice of attire, aware that Jeongguk must know what you're wearing beneath it. He's got an eye for detail. Notices these kinds of things.
He included it in your luggage because he likes it. By all metrics - right up to the way your hair claw-clipped away from your neck, long wispy strands waving around your face - you're everything Jeongguk wants.
And you hope it crushes him.
To your left is Namjoon, and opposite him, Hoseok. You engage in conversation with them, paying no mind to the man beside you, even if the silage of his aftershave and deep hum of his voice pulls your thoughts away. You're incredibly good at nodding and smiling along. Have worked in customer service for long enough to perfect it - and Hoseok's too busy trying to subtly flirt to realise you've got your 'work smile' on.
Taehyung is to the right of Jeongguk, Danbi next and then Seoyeon is sitting at the head of the table.
Opposite Danbi is Yoongi, leaving the seats opposite yourself, Jeongguk and Taehyung free.
You wonder if Jeongguk is just as apprehensive as you are about who'll be sitting where. The last thing you want is Hayun opposite you, but you don't particularly want her opposite Jeongguk, either. Don't want her here, full stop, to be honest.
It's not your call, though - and as Jimin takes the seat beside Yoongi, you know that this night is about to get far more uncomfortable than it already is.
Jeongguk glances over his shoulder, down towards you.
Regretfully - instinctively - you follow suit. Meet his gaze. Say nothing. Nor does he. There's a billion thoughts that could be running through his pretty head, but you know he's probably just cursing repeatedly.
Sort of like you are, when you realise there's a few speckles of glitter on his cheekbone. Not the kind he gets from spending a little too much time in your presence, by the kind that's deliberately put there.
The worst part?
You know exactly which glitter it is. Know it's yours. Know it's one that he has guardianship over, from all the times you've left your wands of liquid glitter at his place.
Know that it's one you've got multiple wands of, 'cause it's one of your favourites.
So much so that it's the one you chose to wear tonight.
You wanted comfort. Had found it in your chosen shield. Are crestfallen at the concept of Jeongguk doing the exact same thing.
Your awkward and slightly confusing focus is broken by the arrival of the final two guests.
"Finally," Seoyeon beams as her closest friends enter the main house.
"Sorry," Hayun smiles right back at her. "Fashionably late."
And as much as you hate to admit it, she's right. Looks like she belongs in a magazine. Is wearing formal, high-waisted black pants, cinched at her waist with a black leather belt and brassy buckle. She's foregone a shirt and appears to be wearing a lacy red bodysuit in its place, topped with a matching, oversized blazer.
You're no stranger to the underwear as formalwear trick, but she's so much more refined than you are. Far more demure. Her tits aren't covered with glitter, for starters.
It's not like your tits are glittery today (although there are always specks somewhere). Chose to keep to respectable glitter application.
Your eyes are sparkly as always. The liquid glitter both you and the boy next to you are wearing is the same one that you'd adorned Jeongguk in on New Year's Eve.
Poetic, sort of, you think as Hayun takes the seat opposite you.
Lips now her signature shade of red, you're reminded that it doesn't matter how Jeongguk is choosing to brand himself now, for he was branded by her, right over his heart, a few short hours earlier.
Sure, it was just a smudge - not like she'd fuckin' kissed it or whatever. At least, you don't think she did. The memory is a little blurry, adrenaline playing its part in diluting the intensity of the horror you'd seen.
Nabi takes the seat opposite Jeongguk, probably because Hayun knew she wasn't welcome beside Jimin.
Hayun doesn't notice the look on Hoseok's face as she sits, and how body slightly curves away from him.
"Now that we're all here," Yoongi voices a little louder than normal to make sure your attention is all geared towards him. Decides that he may as well get to his feet. Lifts the champagne flute that has been fizzing in front of him. You've all got one, freshly poured by the groom himself just before you'd arrived. "I'd like to propose a toast - to my fiancé. There's no one else I'd rather battle against in the Jilympics. I hope we never stop living life together."
He raises his glasses and everyone follows suit. Jimin is very pleased with the mention of the Jilympics. Nabi kicks him under the table when she notices his smug grin.
A chorus of 'To Seoyeon' echoes out into the room, smiles evident in the tone of the cheers. Simple, sweet and straight to the point, Yoongi's speech was the embodiment of himself.
For now, amongst friends, this will do.
Come the wedding day, he'll make a proper speech. Will be so bloody poetic that even the staff working the catering will cry.
Downing the champagne in one, you're pleased to see that Hoseok does the same. Decided that he will be your drinking partner for the evening. Ignore the fact that Jeongguk, too, downed his.
You don't refill his glass when you refill yours and Hoseoks.
It's rude. Bad table manners. The least he deserves.
Silence prevails between you both. Conversations are had with other people, but never one another. The iciness is easy to ignore, given the warmth of your loved ones.
But something's gotta give - and a few too many drinks in, main course now being absolutely inhaled, you're the one who makes the first move.
"The meat is amazing," you nod, brows furrowing as you swallow it down.
It's kinda hilarious how much you look like Jeongguk when you appreciate foods these days. Have somehow adopted his expressions into your own repertoire. Glancing over to him, you ask, "is this what you'd do for the restaurant? This cut of meat?"
Nodding, Jeongguk tries to hide the relief he feels at the fact that you're talking to him. Even you're sort of surprised with yourself, and how easily you're able to speak to him, even when you're mad.
"Will be the signature cut and cook," he says of the meat. Keeps it simple. "It's my favourite. I'm glad you like it."
It's not hard to see why Jeongguk likes it so much. Tender and juicy, it's packed full of flavour all from a simple grilling.
"Here," he says, passing over a small pot of sea salt for you to dip the meat into. "Try."
It's not exactly a unique combination, but it is your favourite - and Jeongguk knows this.
He deliberately didn't set up a salt dish near you, just so that you'd have to ask for it - but finds himself relenting and making life easier for you regardless of the fact you didn't request it. Doesn't want you to ever miss out on the things you love, after all.
And as much as you hate yourself for it, you find yourself reciprocating, passing him the banchan that's a little too far from him. Fill up his stock of ssam leaves with your own when he runs out, 'cause he prefers wrapping his meat up, whereas you like eating it by itself.
Leaning over to lend a hand, an ease now established between you both, you think nothing of it when he's grabbing some perilla.
The fermentation process that the leaves go through make them notoriously hard to separate. Honestly, you never normally bother. Just take a few at a time - but it's clear Jeongguk is after just a single leaf. Trapping the excess leaves beneath your chopsticks, you aren't even really looking at him, as you do so.
Until he pauses his movements, and furrows his brows in that ever-so-curious fashion he always does.
"Hmm?" you sound, question his pause, then figure maybe he's after a wad of them after all. Pull your chopsticks away. "Oh, sorry. Thought you only wanted one."
"I do," he says quietly. "Just one."
Never before have you seen a man speak so carefully regarding fermented leaves.
"Okay..." you elongate your acceptance, posing it almost as a question. Leaning back over, you swipe your chopstick between the leaves. Get him two in one, so put it down in your dish and nod towards it. "You split it."
This time, he manages easily, even if he's barely able to take his eyes off of you.
"Are you, like, possessed by the perilla leaves or something?" you ask quietly, so that no one else will hear.
He shakes his head. Finally looks away from you. "No. Sorry."
You're no stranger to the superstitions that come with the sacred peeling of perilla leaves - you just had no idea that Jeongguk seems to be obsessed with them, too.
The debate regarding the leaves had been a hot topic for a little while. Everyone and their dog seemed to have an opinion on the matter. TV panel shows would spend entire segments discussing it. Even boy bands were weighing in and driving their fans crazy with their thoughts on it all.
What you'd found far more interesting was the psychological studies done in the wake of it all, aligning people's stances with their attachment styles.
Jeongguk, it would appear, has more of an anxious attachment style. Checks out, you think.
From across the table, Hayun stays focused on anything other than the pair of you. It's light relief.
"B," Jeongguk begins, but you shake your head, not wishing for him to forget that he's still very much in the dog house.
"No," you simply say, quiet enough so that no one else hears. You won't entertain him, but you won't embarrass him, either. "We're not having a friendly chat."
There's an uncomfortable discord in your chest; a sombre disposition that makes your lungs stutter a little.
You could cry, if you wanted to.
Could be a big baby, and let everyone know that you've got a big stupid crush on your best friend.
Could look Hayun dead in her eyes with your own (bloodshot) pair, and question why she insists on being such an insidious, vapid twat all the time.
Could ask Jeongguk why he lets her.
Could ask the rest of them why they let her bad behaviour slide, and why none of them give a fuck about Jeongguk and what he went through.
Could turn to him, a pathetically ask why he doesn't give a fuck about what you went through.
But he does .
All Jeongguk ever fucking does is care . He showers you in affection, and makes you feel like there's a world out there in which men can be good. Kind. Decent without the expectation of your body in return.
He looks at you with honest eyes, and laughs with you without reservation. He gives you the world, and in return, you give him the stars.
His world is forever changed by you, and you know damn well that whatever happened in the confines of his room this afternoon is incomparable to whatever stunts Seokjin used to pull.
And yet it just hurts so much more.
You're devastated by the idea that maybe he'll never let go of Hayun.
He's a hopeless romantic, after all. Probably thinks they're star-crossed, or some dumb shit like that.
But Jeongguk has never cared for Shakespeare. Romeo and Juliet is only worth watching if it's the Baz Luhrmann one, as far as he's concerned - and he only watches it for the vibes.
Stars don't mean shit to him.
You're the only one that does.
No matter how fleeting, you're the shooting star that he'll wish upon day after day after day. Week after week. Month after year.
Of those wishes, none of them will be for him.
Shooting star? I wish B has a good evening.
Tossing coins at Yonggungsa temple? I wish B doesn't get blisters.
Spotting a rogue Yakult lady pushing her cart? I wish B has a delicious lunch.
Birthdays? I wish B knows how happy I am.
New year? I wish B achieves everything she wants.
Wishbones? I wish B this, I wish B that.
Horseshoes? B, B, B.
Eyelashes on cheeks? God, it's you .
Only you. Has been for fuckin' months. Can't remember the last wish he wasted on himself.
It's not even like they're the big wishes. Just tiny ones. Improvements for your day. Bettering your life. Easing your ailments.
If he were to be granted a wish right now, Jeongguk would wish for only one thing:
I wish B would hold my hand.
For once, it is a selfish wish. Something of which he knows won't come true. Something that would ease his discomfort. Would make him feel better.
As you adjust in your seat, mid-conversation with Namjoon, your legs crossed over, shutting Jeongguk even further out. Wine glass in the hand closest to Namjoon, your other hand strokes at the silky fabric of your dress, along the outer side of the thigh you've just crossed over. It's self-soothing. Something you don't even realise you do.
Jeongguk mirrors you. Twists his body away from you to face the conversation he's pretending to be interested in. Crosses his legs, 'cause he's closing off from you, too.
You know it's happening. Can see it in your peripherals. Feel it in the way your heart tugs. In a way, it's kind of nice for him to match your energy. At least you still match in some regards. Small victories.
Namjoon is telling you about some guy he was trying to track down for an interview. Something about baked beans, and world records. You're not really entirely sure, 'cause you're a little wine drunk, and you're only half invested, one ear listening out in case Hayun makes any snide remarks, or Jeongguk for that matter.
So subtle at first that you don't even notice it, you realise the soft brush of warm skin against your knuckles.
Fingertips.
A call to attention.
When you glance over to Jeongguk, ever so handsome in his white shirt and slightly messy hair, he's entirely focused on the conversation he's in. Doesn't turn to look at you.
Yet his fingers continue to stroke against yours. Refocusing back on your conversation, you don't pull your hand away. Instead, you let him trace your hand with his own. Let him toy with your fingers. Pretend as if your heart rate hasn't increased to a mile a minute.
And you know you should pull away, and that you shouldn't let him indulge in such simple pleasure - but you just can't help yourself.
You want the comfort that comes with being held by Jeongguk - even if it's just your hand beneath a dining table. Public yet private. A hushed declaration. Feelings yelled from the rooftop of a busy city, unheard to anyone but the yeller themselves.
You ease your fingers. Let them link with his. Take a deep breath as he intertwines with you.
Like an English rose up an oak pergola, the fit is seamless. Thorns count for nothing, the buds of how you feel blossoming with every stroke of his thumb against yours.
It's so painfully perfect. Hurts, and heals all in the same touch.
It wasn't what it looked like.
Your choice has been made; confirmed by how your grip tightens.
Maybe it's stupid. Maybe you should know better. Maybe you'll grow to regret it.
But for now, you choose to trust Jeongguk. Choose to believe that it really wasn't what it looked like. Believe that he does want to explain himself. That he will explain himself. That his explanation will be honest, and understandable, and reasonable.
Lord knows you've trusted others with far more for far less.
Even if the roses do wilt, and you're left with nothing but thorns in a hostile climate, at least you're somewhat comforted, now.
Glancing over to him, you're surprised to find him looking over at you, too.
Even more surprised when you both decide to linger for a moment.
There's an earnest nature to the way he looks at you. Big, round eyes, deep with affection. Full of stars. Always fuckin' full. So many for you to make wishes upon.
He tips his head slightly. You okay?
You reciprocate. I'm okay. Are you?
With a squeeze of your hand and soft, fleeting smile, Jeongguk nods. He's clearly not okay, but there's nothing more you can do right now. Both of you are lying, but you're both well aware of it, so it doesn't really count.
His eyes flick down your body, then back to your eyes. Lips move ever so gently. Silently express the word, 'pretty .'
It's accidental, the small smile that blooms on your blushed cheeks. You shake your head. Wordlessly mouth back, 'fuck off.'
And then he smiles, too. Lip ring flips in the corner of his mouth. Rids your heart of all heaviness, even if it does sorta look like you'll both cry.
"DB?" Your attention is pulled away from Jeongguk. Dropping his hand, you turn to face Namjoon. Hum a little in confusion.
"Sorry, I missed that last part. What were you saying?"
Jeongguk returns to the conversation he'd left, too. Runs the pad of his thumb against his fingers, savouring the way you felt. Is okay with the loss of your touch, for he's grateful to have had it all.
The evening continues peacefully. You're pulled into conversations that include Hayun, and act as if it's no skin off your back.
Get into the age old Peperro debate, and learn that she likes the reverse, nudes ones too, like you. Group yourself together with her, when you say "It's not our fault we're girlies with taste."
By framing yourself as an equal, you hope that she'll stop viewing you as a rival. Will make life so much easier if she just accepts the fact that you exist, and will continue to exist.
It confuses Jeongguk. Gets his hand on your thigh, tipsy eyes narrowing in your direction, as if to ask, 'what are you up to?'
If you were to think about it critically, you'd realise that you're trying to get her on side. Trying to make her like you - not because you want to be friends, but because you are certain she must have a moral compass hidden away somewhere. If she likes you, hopefully she'll be less inclined to fuck with Jeongguk. Respect boundaries.
"Come for a walk?" you ask quietly, a little tipsy and finally ready to speak to him.
He nods and gets to his feet without hesitation.
"Walking off some of this soju," he declares to the group, not even thinking about it. Wants to be out of the room, and out of the room asap. "Wanna still be able to out-perform you fuckers later."
The noraebang system is calling your names, like it always is after a few drinks, and it's where you intend on ending up come the end of the night.
"Oh, good shout," Jimin nods, about to join - and then realises the subtle shake of Jeongguk's head. "...For you. Good shout for you . We're all okay. Another round? Anyone?"
Danbi laughs, and begins to pour out shots, distracting everyone else as you get up to join Jeongguk. He's about as subtle as a siren, but you're both wine-drunk. Need to have this conversation before you've mixed too many drinks and it all gets a bit messy.
Leaving your shoes inside, you walk barefoot across the lawn, arms folded over your chest. Jeongguk had stepped into a pair of sliders that he's pretty sure belong to Jimin, given the fact they're a little too small.
"Stars look great from the beach," Jeongguk says, wanting to be as far away from the house as possible. Needs this moment with you to be uninterrupted.
You'll go wherever the stars shine brightest, and Jeongguk will follow.
There's a vast emptiness to the ocean at night. It's sort of terrifying, in a way.
Yet as Jeongguk comes to sit down beside you, the only thing that scares you is the potential for everything to fall apart.
He takes a moment to stall. Points out a constellation hidden in the twinkling abyss above you. Needs this conversation to happen, but fears it, too.
"So..." you whisper.
"So," he nods. Knows that over-explaining will open himself up to scrutiny, but needs you to know everything. "Can we talk?"
You take a moment. "You talk. I'll listen."
It's as good as he'll get. Inhales and sharply exhales. Is slow as he begins to explain.
"I didn't realise anyone was in the house when I got out of the shower. Only thought to put my shorts back on 'cause I remembered Jimin coming in unannounced earlier."
"Okay," you accept. Seems like he can learn from his mistakes. Wonder if the same can be said for his mistakes with Hayun. "Then?"
"S'gonna sound like such a lie," he laments. Knows what it looks like. Knows that you'll likely still be sceptical. Remaining quiet, you let him continue. Maybe it will sound like a lie, but that's up for you to decide. All he can do is give you his honesty. "You know how the stairs jut out a little? And the downstairs bathroom is kind tucked away?"
You silently nod. Hadn't really ever thought much of it - but he's right.
"Hayun-" he's careful not to call her 'Yun' - "was coming out of the bathroom, and I was sort of, like, skipping down the stairs? Going fast, you know how I do. Hands on either side of the bannister."
You know it well; how he just swings himself down flights of stairs, as if he's still a kid. It's sweet. Sometimes . Annoying, and really irritating when you're behind and he's gearing himself up to gain momentum - but also cute when he clears five steps at a time and has the hugest smile on his face after he reaches the end.
"Thought I was alone," he reinforces. "Cleared, like, six in one go. Was pretty impressive, actually."
"Well done," you smile, like the proud parent of their bat-shit crazy child.
"Thanks," he grins, but quickly resumes seriousness. "Anyways, had a little too much momentum, didn't realise she was coming out of the bathroom, and couldn't stop myself in time."
Doesn't take a genius to work it out. You can picture it all in your head. Him, her. The stuff of K-dramas. The collision you always thought would be between the pair of you happening with her instead.
"She uses, like, this stain stuff - the red. It's not like, the sticks," Jeongguk tries his best to recall the right terms, but honestly his brain is just full of glitter these days. "It's in a tube - anyways, not important."
You hate that he knows this - but it makes sense. He's always been attentive. It kind of is important, but you let him go on.
"Takes a while to dry," he continues. "And she'd just done her makeup, and like - I tried to stop myself, I really did, but you know it's like. Anyways -"
He holds up both of his hands. Keeps one in place, while the other slaps against it. The sound echoes in time with a crashing wave, the truth of the lipstick mark revealing itself.
"Literally nearly knocked her out," he says, then pouts a little. "If anything, you should be-"
"I'm not thanking you," you laugh, cutting him off before he gets the chance to demand it. "Still doesn't explain-"
"The door," he nods. "I know."
There's a pause, Jeongguk giving you a chance to say something - anything - before he continues. Instead, you just look out to the ocean and play with the sand a little mindlessly.
"Nearly wiped her out. Asked if she was okay, and she just... I dunno, she just sorta started crying and like - I didn't know what to do," he stresses. "Can count on one hand the amount of times I've seen her cry," he admits, and the statistic doesn't surprise you whatsoever.
She doesn't strike you as the type to wear her vulnerabilities on her sleeve.
In much the opposite fashion, it had taken Jeongguk by surprise when the water works started. He wasn't really sure what to do. Isn't an awful person, so didn't wanna just walk away when another human being was quite clearly in distress - especially as he seemed to trigger it.
"Things are just..." she had sobbed, exasperated with the state of her life. Nothing had gone to plan. Even her back up options were lost to her, now. The things she had been certain she'd achieve were hanging in the wastelands, and she had nothing to show for it. "They're shit, Gguk. Everything is shit."
The cynical side of Jeongguk thought she only had herself to blame.
But the side of him you adore endless - the compassionate, kind, gentle side - had taken pity.
"That's not true," he'd said. " You've got a good family. Good friends. Skills. This is just a blip. Things'll straighten themselves out eventually. They always do."
This only made her cry even harder.
Why he had to be so fucking nice to her all the time, she'd never understand. She'd been a cow, and was well aware of that. No matter how much she was trying to make right her wrongs, she knew that irreparable damage had been done. Many things, is Hayun, but naive not one of them.
Weak, is another thing she refuses to be. Refuses to let anyone see her cry. Asked to talk to Jeongguk a little more privately - and he was desperate to cover himself up. Was well aware he was half naked. Didn't really feel comfortable.
"Was a lapse in judgement," he admits to you. "Should have told her to wait outside, or go to her room, or something. Just sort of thought the quicker I get a shirt on, the quicker I could stop feeling so uncomfortable. I headed in first, she followed behind. Didn't even realise she'd locked it. Think she was scared of people seeing her cry."
You scoff a little at this. Refuse to think he thought the process was really that innocent.
"Anyways, you came in, she freaked. I went to open the door, realised it was locked," he explains, taking a deep breath. Shakes his head. Replays the memories.
"I don't want her to see me like this," Hayun had hissed.
"Yeah," he'd called out to you, rushing to unlock it.
"Don't open it. Please."
Furrowing his brows, Jeongguk had shook his head. Whispered, "I have to."
Was a no-brainer to him.
"Just gimmie a second," he had called through the door, now on the other side of it. Waved his hand in the air indicating she should get out of sight if she didn't want to be seen. In that split moment, it seemed like a logical compromise.
By the time he'd opened the door, your face was already contorted with confusion.
The realisation of how terrible it looked hit him quickly. Didn't even realise she'd tossed her jacket down. Just knows it was a series of unfortunate events that'd give even Lemony Snicket a run for his money.
"I know I'm a fuckin' idiot," Jeongguk says. "I do the wrong things and I say dumb shit, but Byeol I'd never fuck you over like that. What's the point in me making a big song and dance this morning about how much I don't wanna lose you, only to do something that would jeopardise that completely?"
You shrug. Sniff back little tears you didn't even realise you'd been holding in.
"Boys are stupid."
"I know." He reaches out for you, and you find yourself just melting into his touch as he drags you into his lap. Jeongguk wraps his arms around you - and you just let him. Lips pressing a firm kiss into your hair, he squeezes you tightly. "B, I meant everything . Love the way I feel when I'm with you. Don't wanna lose it."
Tepid as you turn your head to face him, your hands tentatively find their home beneath his strong jaw. He closes his eyes. Inhales. Feels so fucking at peace.
And when your nose nudges up against his?
Oh, he's home .
"I'm sorry," he whispers - and you punctuate his apology with a soft kiss to his lips, that have been longing to feel yours for hours, now. He shakes his head a little. Laments. "So stupid. So fukin' stupid."
But then you shake your head, too.
You were presented with evidence, and decided to take a pole vault to it. Jumped to conclusions that reached even greater heights than you thought were possible.
"I should have heard you out," you admit. Takes two to tango when it comes to the dance of miscommunication. "I'm sorry for not doing that."
He just shrugs.
"I get why you didn't... but B, I'm not him," he says quietly, still hurt by your earlier accusation. "I... Look, I know I didn't dress it up in flowery words, and that I sort of made a joke about it all, but I want this. Whatever this is. I want it. Want you."
And as his lips sink into yours, you know that lies are something he's no longer capable of.
"I'll give you a nice fuckin' label," he promises. "Tell anyone who ever asks, if you like. You're my best fuckin' friend. No one else comes above you. No one. Whatever you want to label us as, that's what we'll be. Whatever you want, B."
"And what about what you want?" You ask, forehead against his, the weight of his words light and yet incredibly heavy in the same fleeting moment.
Friends? Lovers? Partners?
Together?
The options are endless. Daunting.
And yet Jeongguk seems unphased.
But of course he is. Been so scared of losing you that he's been hesitant with his honesty, and now realises it's completely counterproductive.
"Told you already," he whispers. "Want you ."
"You're drunk."
"Doesn't matter."
"You won't remember this in the morning."
"Then remind me," he says. "It'll come right back."
"Confident, aren't you, Koo?" You giggle, and Jeongguk knows that he's done for. That name. Gets him every goddamn time. "Thought you were scared of rejection?"
"Don't reject me for the sake of the birds." He pleads, now. Begs . A kiss is pressed to your lips, heart swelling in your chest. "Rejection doesn't scare me anymore, B. Losing you does."
"I don't think this is on the birds, anyways," you whisper. "Don't think anything we do these days is."
Crazy how everything changes and yet Jeongguk remains exactly the same, in his own, strange way.
"You'd be surprised," Jeongguk smirks. Presses his lips against yours to stop you from immediately responding.
There's only a few birds left hanging above his bed - but there is a new addition. One he added the day he arrived home from Busan. One that gets his hands all clammy just thinking about it.
Pulling away, Jeongguk is so pleased to see you smiling.
"I'm scared," you admit. Sort of just blurt it out. Feel the need to let him know that you'll need your hand held.
"Yeah," Jeongguk nods. "Me too - but we've always been pretty good at facing our fears together, right?"
"Right," you say, biting down on your bottom lip, cheeks full, eyes sparkling even in the dark of night. "Seriously though - will you even remember this in the morning?"
"Never felt more sober."
"Okay...," you nod, not believing him in the slightest. "Well, ask me again about a label in the morning."
"So you are rejecting me."
"No," you laugh. "I'll say yes. I just want to make sure it's something you actually want to do."
"I'm sure," he insists - but you're still a little hesitant. Don't want to rush anything. Had been christened with a label earlier that day, only to revoke it a few hours later. Seems a little premature to assign another.
"Anyways, we've been on a 'walk' for ages," you hum, getting to your feet, dusting sand from your lap. The topic is being changed, and Jeongguk knows to let it. To respect your choices. Follows you as you lead him back to the house, where you can already hear the noraebang session has started.
"Let's face it," Jeongguk smirks. "Jimin's probably told them all we've gone for a shag."
He has.
It's confirmed when Jeongguk gets him in a headlock, and Jimin squirms away from the noogie he's receiving, saying, "You better have washed your hands, you nasty fucker."
And so, while Jimin is still trapped within the handlock, Jeongguk rubs his flat palm all over Jimin's face. It's only fair.
Jimin's like a cartoon character in the way he pretends to vomit - as if his hands haven't also touched a little less than appropriately. Boys. Idiots.
"Fuck off," you laugh at the commotion. "We were just down by the beach. The stars are super bright tonight. You should go look."
Danbi welcomes you onto the sofa with her, arms outstretched, pulling you in for a hug. Snuggling up to your best friend, you both squeeze one another so tightly you might burst.
"Nabi and Hayun just got 86," she quietly says of the noraebang system, just for you to hear. "We gotta beat them."
Nodding, you agree. "We will."
"You and loverboy okay?"
"So much to tell you," you laugh. Pull out of the hug and twist your back to click it. Consider how much you want to divulge. Decide that you'd much rather just get drunk. "But yeah."
"Did he grovel?"
"Oh yeah."
"Good. Explain himself?"
"Mhmm."
"Commit any sins?"
"Only the sin of being a big fuckin' idiot."
Danbi smiles. Notices you're sparkling again. Glances over to Jeongguk, and finds he's looking over at you, sparkling too.
"We can live with that."
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