#OMG YOU BETTER BELIEVE SHE WAS MAKING GRABBY HANDS AFTER LIKE 'GIVE HER TO ME! GIVE HER TO ME!!' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

boymeetsweevil · 6 years ago

Text

For Science 5/7

Grouping: Reader x Nerd!JK

Word Count: 17.5k haha wtf (NSFW)

Warnings/Themes: omg okay swearing, Boobies, graphic-ish Cunnilingus, endangement of Hoseok’s chin, Spit :/, Masturbation, mentions of porn haha, Making out, (Hoseok’s) male gaze??? Idiot!Kook, Jealous!Kook, Violence? (lmao it was very mild violence and mention of blood but not graphic), gratuitous use of soap-opera level drama

Summary: Jungkook asks you to let him watch you get off. For science.

A/N: I’m tagging @m-icdrop , @jiminslye , @ephemeral-mindset, @sugarandpoppy, @monstar95, @sweetestkth, @limitlesxxsxx, @simplyfinessin, @park-geemin to let you know that this is here! If any of you would like to stop being tagged with each FS update, let me know. And if anyone would like to be added to the tag list, also let me know :)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 6, part 7

Being a good friend, as you’re realizing now, is so terribly hard and you wish someone had told you earlier in life so you could make the informed choice of becoming a nun. Or maybe just a plain old hermit.

Either way, waking up in the middle of Yoori’s bedroom finds you feeling less rested than you would have liked. Probably because you dreamt that you had been transfigured into a dog by Hoseok wearing a witch’s costume and forced to be the family pet to Yoori and Jungkook’s 16 children. You end up waking with a jolt, still in Yoori’s bed and covered in cold sweat, wanting nothing more than to go home and leave everything at school behind.

Still, you soldier through the rest of the night, staring at your laptop instead of doing work, only eating half of the pizza she ordered for you and numbly carrying a large Tupperware container that held the leftovers back to your apartment.

You end up eating the pizza for breakfast the following morning in some meagre effort to comfort yourself. Nothing helps, though. Not using the special body wash that you usually reserved for special occasions. Not putting on the velvet joggers you wore when you needed a pick-me-up. So, you try going in the opposite direction. Instead of putting in extra effort, you put in zero. You don’t bother stressing about putting your hair into an intricate style so you’ll look more put together. You don’t bother trying to buff your skin to a shining, baby glow. Instead you slather your face in moisturizer and throw your hair into a bun, which seems to do the trick. Giving up on some of the tinier details that would often gnaw at the edges of your collectedness improves your mood slightly. So does taking the rest of the pizza in with you for lunch.

The universe takes pity on you and the day goes by quickly. On Friday, It feels almost as though you only blinked but now the sun was setting around 4:30, as had become habit.

You wipe the drool that was pooling at the corner of your mouth while you tried some old number theory problem sets from a class you took freshman year. It had been difficult because you’d forgotten how shitty proofs can be, but it had also been just the time sink you needed.

Coming to the usual study spot you and Yoori established a few hours prior was bittersweet. Normally she would be there, perhaps with a steaming mug of something calming waiting for you, ready to work in companionable silence with gossip breaks sprinkled in between. Today, she wasn’t there, so you had the whole table to yourself. You sit in her chair to throw some novelty into the mix. And because you miss her. But now that your momentum is broken, you decide to turn to the window instead of people watching. Even though there’s none of the softly falling snow Yoori always raves about, the view is still nice.

The last few rays of the winter sun are stretching out, leaving the campus bathed in blood orange light and catching the reflective parts of the packed snow on the ground. There’s something picturesque about the way the campus pond, now frozen, sits in the center of the landscape and frames the sheet of mountains running in the distance. But it feels very lonely as well.

You check your phone and find no text messages from Jungkook and only one from Yoori asking if you have plans for Saturday night. You tell her no and begin packing up.

Normally, you’re not a big going out person, but you find your lack of plans for this weekend a little bothersome. You know Jungkook and Yoori will obviously be busy that evening, and perhaps even the whole weekend. But that leaves you with Taehyung and Hoseok to have a good time and the prospects for that seem weak. You try sending a text to the two of them asking if a bar sounded like a fun idea but Hoseok messages back that he already bought drinks for tonight. You suppose you’ll have to try again next weekend.

Taehyung’s words of assurance about how Jungkook suddenly getting a girlfriend wouldn’t change the group dynamic float into you’re head. But you’re not so sure you believe them in this moment. Things don’t seem as fun and you’re not sure if it’s just because you’ve spent the whole day moping or if it’s because Jungkook has been carrying the group dynamic on his back the whole time and you never even noticed until now.

It’s a frightening thought and it’s also a little unfair to Hoseok and Taehyung. Although you’re not as close to them as you are to Jungkook, it’s not like they’re strangers. You’ve spent a great deal of time on your own with both of them, and even though you fight with Hoseok from time to time, you have made some nice memories with the both of them.

As you walk to Taehyung’s apartment for game night, you’re reminded of the times you’ve spent with the both of them. Like when you needed to fulfill your PE requirement for the year, so you and Hoseok took a snowboarding class together. You can admit, albeit reluctantly, that you bonded over many nights of numb toes and icing each other’s injuries. There’s also the time that you and Taehyung thought learning Russian would be a fun idea. You ended up leaving the Russian club after the first weekly meeting, but Taehyung still goes and is now the club Treasurer. It had been a fun hour of your life, though.

“Hey,” Taehyung chirps when you finally arrive at his apartment.

“Hey!” You fling yourself at him, full of emotion from the walk down memory lane you just took. He’s stiff in your arms for a moment, but settles into the hug after a beat.

“What’s this all about?” He chuckles, patting your back affectionately.

You extricate yourself from him and drop your things at the doorway before turning to Hoseok with a determined look. He snorts at you but doesn’t try to hide from your grabby hands, much to your surprise.

“I just wanted to let you guys know that I’m really glad we’re all friends. You mean a lot to me,” you mumble into the collar of Hoseok’s shirt as you press wrap him in a sincere hug.

“Are you not wearing a bra?”

“Except you,” you push him off you roughly. “Not you. I don’t like you.”

“Aw, come on!” He grins wryly at you from the floor. “You know you like me.”

You make a show of brushing the residue of your hug off the thin and oversized sweater you’re wearing. “No, sorry. I was a different person 20 seconds ago. I’ve changed. I’m better now.”

Hoseok hops up and chases you around Taehyung’s tiny dining room table until he manages to trap you in a corner by the kitchen entrance and wrangle you into a bear hug. You play dead to deter him, but instead he just laughs at the limp way your feet drag on the floor and waddles with you still in his grasp to the living room. Taehyung looks for the right game to play.

He chooses Wii Resort, which is not even remotely close to being your favorite, so you sit out and let the third controller lay unused on the ground. Instead you find yourself seated with your back against Hoseok’s chest in the La-Z boy, feet stretched out to rest in Taehyung’s lap as he sits on the matching ottoman.

“It’s fucking freezing in here,” you whine.

“I told you to wear layers. I’m trying to lower my utility bill,” is all Taehyung says as he moves his mii into yet another jungle setting for a mini game.

You pout. “This sucks.”

“It really doesn’t,” Hoseok interjects, “This is one of the better game nights we’ve had in a while.”

“You’re just saying that because this is the only time you’ve been able to win at a game.”

“Be nice to Hobi.” One of Taehyung’s hands drop down to dig into the arch of your foot as a warning. You squeal, knee kicking out wildly and without your permission, forcing your head to crack back against Hoseok’s chin.

“Ow! Fuck! What the hell is wrong with you, Tae?” Hoseok reaches up to clutch at his face, controller falling into your lap.

“Dude, I was defending you! How is this my fault?”

“You know it’s against the rules to tickle her when another person’s nearby unless it’s a tag-team.” He whines and taps you on the shoulder. You turn to face him sheepishly, knowing it’s partially your fault too. “Am I bleeding?”

“Thankfully, no,” you coo after a careful inspection. “But if that were any higher up on my leg, I don’t think you’d still have a face.”

“I know.”

You pat his hair soothingly, but turn back around soon after Hoseok stops cradling his face. “Maybe we should call it a night.”

“We can’t! I’m not even buzzed yet. And we haven’t gone all the way around the board.”

“Tae, this game is trash. I don’t want to just sit and watch.”

He waves a hand dismissively, unpausing the game without even looking at you. “It’s not my fault you’re a fake Nintendo fan.”

“Ooh, are you gonna take that,” Hoseok’s eyes widen at Taehyung’s comment.

“I’m not even gonna dignify that with a response,” you sniff. Reaching out, you grab at the closest, non-empty beer bottle you can reach and take a swig. “But I am gonna get going so you can enjoy your shitty game by yourselves.”

“Come on!” Hoseok whines again from above you and from your vantage point it looks like his face is starting to swell. You silently hope that it doesn’t get bad until after you leave. “You can’t leave. Then it’ll just be two guys playing Wii resort.”

“Arriving in 13 minutes.” You burrow further into his chest to steal some warmth for a minute. You vow that the first thing you’re doing once you get home is taking a hot shower.

“Let her go, Hob. She’s not cool like us.”

Taehyung’s Mii reaches the top of the mountain at that moment. The victory cry he releases is entirely too loud and definitely not appropriate for someone only playing Wii Resort. He gets up from his chair and starts gyrating at the TV where Hoseok’s mii is crying large blue tears.

“Congrats on your victory. I’m out.”

The ride home turns out to be less relieving and more depressing as you get closer and closer to your apartment. Jungkook and Yoori are probably somewhere having an amazing date and will probably then go have amazing virginal sex in the backseat of Hoseok’s frat brothers’ car that Jungkook borrowed for the occasion. Taehyung and Hoseok actually like Wii Resort and will probably spend the rest of the night getting drunk off their asses playing that and having more fun than is objectively reasonable. Meanwhile you will probably stand naked and shivering in your bathroom for, like, 8 whole minutes waiting for hot water to make it through your plumbing.

Nothing like depressing thoughts to start your weekend off well.

Perhaps the universe decided to take pity on you once again because when you get home and disrobe, you only have to wait 6 minutes for the hot water. And it doesn’t run out after another 5. You also let yourself sing loudly to your Spotify ballad playlist titled ‘lady heartbreak’. Normally, you only cry to that playlist, so you think of it as personal growth.

Once you’re out the shower and your voice is hoarse from the ‘singing’, you change into light pajamas. Despite the fact that your heater is fixed, you still keep it firing at almost full blast because you prefer the heat to the cold.

Before you can flip back the covers on your bed when you hear a loud knock on your door. You figure its either Taehyung or Hoseok, or both of them, looking for something to do now that the game has lost its charm after a million rounds. But a quick glance at your phone shows no text messages from them saying that they’d be stopping by, which they usually do. The door thumps like someone’s body is slamming against it and you pray that its one of your stupid friends just being inconsiderate and disorderly.

You’re about to leave your room to see who’s at your door when another loud sound startles you. Its as if someone is carefully trying to rattle the window leading to your fire escape. All the while the loud knocking at your front door continues to ring through the apartment. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re certain you saw a news special about something like this. Pairs of burglars come to innocent women’s houses after they’ve stalked them long enough to learn their schedule and see if they live alone. Then they both show up to the house at different spots to distract the victim and break in more efficiently.

In this scenario, you’re certain they’re expecting you to go to the front door. But you’re smart, dammit. You decide to give them a surprise and approach the window first instead, phone clutched in your hand with the police a button-press away. You yank back the curtains and quickly activate your flashlight mode to see who is trying to break into your house. The pair of wide eyes that greet you back almost make your drop your phone.

“Jungkook,” you hiss incredulously.

Carefully, you unlock your window and slide it up so he can climb off the fire escape and collapse face first into your room. Clearly, he is slightly inebriated.

“What are you doing here?”

“Shh,” he sticks a finger into your face, “She’ll hear you.”

“Who’ll hear me?”

The apartment is eerily quiet when you realize that the loud knocking is replaced by jingling of keys and the sound of the front door being pushed open.

“Jeon Jungkook, who the hell is that in my house?”

“It’s Yoori,” he whispers with genuine fear in his eyes. “Crap!”

You can’t do much besides react on auto-pilot and pull back the many blankets and comforters lining your bed for him to dive under. The sound of Yoori’s slow, stumbling footsteps as they make their way into the heart of the apartment are better than any horror movie soundtrack. You find yourself diving into bed too, knees bent, hoping that you look casual and can hide Jungkook’s shape. He pokes his head out and grins at you from the shadows between your bare knees.

“Is anyone home,” Yoori calls from somewhere in the living room.

“I’m in my bedroom,” you respond. “It’s the last door on the right in the hallway.

A few moments later, Yoori is peering curiously from behind your door. You realize she still hasn’t seen your room despite the fact that she’s been to your apartment in passing a couple of times now.

“Hey, Yoori.”

“Hey. Wow,” she hiccups, “This is very you. I like the tapestries.” She turns in a circle to take in all of your room’s décor.

“Yep. So, uh, what brings you here?”

“I asked Jungkookie to drop me off here.”

“Oh, you did? Where is Jungkookie now,” you ask neutrally before casting a brief but discrete annoyed look down at Jungkook’s semi-visible face under the covers.

“I think he’s probably filling up the car’s tank. He has to return it to the fraternity before it gets too late.”

“He didn’t want to come in with you?”

“No. I told him I wanted to have some girl time with you to talk about the date. But then I got to your door and remembered that you don’t like to talk about romantic stuff like that.”

You shove your hands down into your lap and over his face so he can’t see the way yours heats up in embarrassment.

“W-well that’s just because he’s my good friend, you know. I didn’t mean much by that.”

“It’s okay, I understand.” She smiles down at you sleepily before walking over and moving like she’s going to sit with you in bed.

“Um, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you shoot your hands out to keep her sitting.

“Why not?”

She pouts softly down at you. You wince knowing that her feet probably hurt from a night in heels and all she wants to do is sit to rest. But your loyalty lies elsewhere at the moment.

“Because…I have no pants on.”

“Really?” She grins and peeks down like she hopes to see through the blanket covering your lap. “That’s okay with me. You probably don’t have anything I haven’t seen before. And if you did, who cares?”

You decide that you won’t probe her about that and instead redirect the conversation.

“Yeah, but I’m kind of shy when it comes to that stuff.”

“That’s right. I forgot.” Yoori sighs sadly. “Maybe one day we’ll get there. That should be our next friendship goal. Getting you to feel less shy around me.”

“Y-yeah, okay.”

You watch as she swings her heels tiredly in her hand and searches for a nearby cab. She finds one relatively quickly and gives you a one-armed hug around your shoulders before scooping heading out. You wait a few more minutes, just in case she magically returns for something she left behind despite the fact that she left the spare key on your bedside desk and the front door locks from the inside automatically. Once you’re certain you won’t be found out, you rip the sheets back angrily.

“Explain yourself quickly, Jeon.”

Jungkook squints up at you now that the dark cover of your blankets isn’t shielding his eyes anymore. He’s lying on his stomach between your bent legs, propped up on his elbows. It’s a compromising position that you’re glad Yoori didn’t catch you in.

“I told her I needed to fill the tank, but I told her I was doing it at the gas station on 5th street instead of the one across the street from here.” He grins up at your cheekily like he’s done something extra clever.

“Yeah, I figured as much. But why did you do that? And then why did you risk falling 20 feet to climb up the fire escape and come in through the window.”

“I wanted to hang out. I feel like we haven’t seen each other in a while.” His hand reaches out to stroke at the expanse of your bare thigh.

“Jungkook, you’re dating Yoori,” you sigh and move your leg away. “The weekend stays are over now.”

“We’re taking it slow, though.”

“Not slow enough for this to still be a thing.”

“It is slow enough.” At your raised eyebrows, he stammers. “We-we haven’t even held hands yet.”

“Really,” you can’t help but ask. The pang of satisfaction you feel knowing that Jungkook still hasn’t taken things further with Yoori makes you feel a bit guilty. But you can’t help it.

“Really. So we can still do this, right?”

“I don’t know, Kook.” Your lip ends up tucked between your teeth in indecisiveness.

“Please? I missed you,” he whispers quietly. It’s all you’ve ever wanted to hear from him and you give a quick nod lest you start shrieking from joy if you open your mouth.

He shuffles until he can pull you closer by the hips. When you’re on a slight incline, your multiple pillows holding you up, Jungkook removes his glasses. You watch silently as he places them next to the spare keys before leaning into your space, eyes dropping closed.

You let your jaw relax in anticipation of his mouth. But you’re surprised when the first thing you feel is the dry press of his lips to your cheek. It’s sweeter than you were expecting, but you’re not complaining. Eventually he makes his way over to your mouth and begins kissing you in earnest. Small pecks transform into languid caresses of his lips over yours. Your tongue comes out to swipe at the seam of his lips and he immediately opens up to let you in, groaning at the feeling of you in his mouth.

He lets a sharp breath leave his nose and surges forward, pressing himself to you as close as he can after having shuffled you even closer so he could lean over you. When you suck on his bottom lip, he lets out a low snarling sound. His hands come down to clamp onto your waist like a warm vice. Carefully, you entangle the fingers of one hand in his hair, while the other smooths down the curve of his broad shoulders. The feeling of the muscles in his back flexing under your hand is a feeling you didn’t realize you could take for granted. But somehow you have because its amazing to have it back.

The two of you make out for a while. Jungkook tastes of dessert wine and cheesecake. Its not necessarily a combination that you find unpleasant, but it reminds you that he just came back from a date. And while he left that date and came straight to you, you still don’t like it. You kiss him harder with the hopes that it’ll take away the remnants of his time out with another girl. A girl who is your friend. He whines and lets you ravage his mouth. Little do you know that each swipe of your tongue against his own has his growing harder in his slacks.

“Wait a minute,” he gasps against your mouth before slowing down a bit by planting small kisses on the hinge of your jaw and the soft skin of your throat.

“Too fast?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles bashfully.

You’re content to let him come back down from his fast-approaching high by sucking lightly on the skin near the collar of your white tshirt. There will probably be some light bruising that you’ll have to cover up if you’re still going out with Yoori tomorrow, but you don’t care about that right now. Instead you’d rather revel in the sensation of Jungkook’s traveling kisses. Though they started at the hollow of your throat, they’ve collected on your clavicle and he’s now trailing them over the fabric of your shirt by your sternum. It’s sweet.

And then its suddenly not so sweet as you feel his heated breaths puff over your nipple.

Obviously, you’re turned on and you’re not wearing a bra because you thought you were going straight to sleep. So its completely understandable why your nipples would be hard, then. What you’re not certain of is what Jungkook is planning. He’s no longer continuously pressing kisses into the shirt and is now sporadically planting them around the stiff peak that is raising your shirt material slightly, just breathing heavily over it. The heat you feel doesn’t do anything to calm you down and instead it has you squirming in his hold.

One of his hands comes up to rest some of his weight on your shoulder, effectively keeping you flat to the bed. A quick glance at him has your breath hitching loudly in your throat. He’s staring intently down at your breast, like he’s trying to make a tough choice. The moment is so thick that you don’t dare move. Not to encourage him nor to inquire what he plans. Instead you lay with bated breath, watching him slowly descend the last few inches. You squeeze your eyes shut milliseconds before his mouth envelopes your covered nipple.

“Oh shit,” you curse quietly.

Despite the thin cotton barrier, you can feel very clearly the hot, wet pressure of his tongue swirling around your nipple. All of the movements so far are experimental, hesitant in their rhythm. He hollows his cheeks softly and sucks and all of the sudden a long, drawn out moan leaves you. It gives him the confidence he needs to take his free hand and pinch at the other side, fingers mimicking the rhythm his mouth is setting over you.

Quickly, though, the shirt becomes unbearable and you get annoyed at the thought that such a stupid barrier exists between you and Jungkook’s mouth. You wriggle resolutely under him until he huffs in annoyance and pulls away to see why you’re interrupting him. When he sees that you’re merely hiking the shirt’s hem up to your armpits and exposing your breasts to him, he hums contentedly. He swoops back in, this time to the other side, and begins laving at the tightened bud. Your hands scrabble for purchase and eventually make their way back to his neck again.

“Jungkook,” you breathe raggedly into the crown of his head.

“Hmm?”

“What’s the—mmh fuck—the occasion for all this?”

He comes up with a slick popping sound, looking up at you with dark and hooded eyes. The sight sends a bolt of arousal to your core.

“Just been wanting to.” With that, he returns to making a mess of your chest.

Somehow, in the series of achingly long minutes that follow, you manage to get his button down and undershirt off. The sight of the smooth planes of his skin make your hands itch to feel him. You try to pull him up so you can have better access, but he won’t budge as he begins to kiss lower once both of your breasts have been thoroughly marked. You give up and try to predict what he’ll do next as he digs his fingers into your waist appreciatively and kisses a ring around your belly button.

He proceeds lower, his destination becoming increasingly obvious as he playfully flicks at the tiny ribbon decorating the front of your panties before halting. Tentatively, he pushes an index finger underneath the elastic lining where your thigh meets groin. You can feel what you suppose is the puff of his breath across the crotch of your panties.

“Can I—”

“No,” you blurt, legs snapping closed. Jungkook scoots back just at the right time to save his head from being crushed. “S-sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” He runs a hand through his hair nervously. “Do you just…not like it?”

“I’ve actually, uh, never…” you trail off until the words are lost in the mounds of pillows surrounding your head.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just that I’ve never really had anyone go down on me before.”

“Really?” His eyebrows shoot up behind his slightly damp bangs. “Not even with Yugyeom?”

You wince at the mention of your ex. Yugyeom had been your first and only boyfriend and you had a good run and even what most would call an amicable breakup. But one of the more bitter moments was the one time you’d attempted to get him to go down on you only for him to wrinkle his nose and tell you ‘he wasn’t into that sort of thing’.

“He just wasn’t interested.”

Jungkook nods understandingly for a minute before his gaze is drawn to the space at the apex of your clenched thighs again.

“Are you? Interested?” His tone is heavy with implication and the way he casually hovers over you while sitting back on his heels just makes you feel tiny.

“I-I mean, I guess I am,” you stutter.

“Okay.” He gets back onto his stomach, hands gently prying your knees apart until there’s enough room to accommodate his broad shoulders. “So can I?”

“Go for it.” Your words come out in a squeak.

“Thanks,” he smiles softly.

You can’t see anything because you’ve thrown an arm over your eyes self-consciously. Normally, these moments between the two of you have your stomach in knots for a different reason, but now you’re just plain nervous. You’re diligent about hygiene and you remind yourself that you just took a shower. But it had just been a normal shower and not a booty-call shower. What if he thought you smelled weird? Or that you tasted weird? For some reason, this felt more intimate than all the times before this where he was merely watching and you were the one doing the work down there.

Jungkook hooks his fingers into the waist band of your underwear, pulling it down with your help when you lift your butt. You bite your lip nervously and lift your arm slightly so you can watch his reaction.

He doesn’t have any sort of adverse reaction once you’re completely bare in front of him, though you suppose he’s familiar enough not to act surprised by anything. But you’re not expecting him to dive in suddenly until he’s less than an inch away from your sticky folds. You shouldn’t be embarrassed that you got turned on from making out, but it’s like everything has flipped and suddenly you know how he felt during those first few times together.

You can’t take the silence anymore. “What is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re so quiet.”

“I’m just trying to decide what to do first.”

“Oh. Sorry I can’t be of service.”

He smiles at how awkward you’re being before moving a tiny bit closer and taking a large inhale. Your eyes widen and you move to clamp your legs closed to shut him out, but he’s ready this time. One hand presses down on your pelvis while the other one presses on your hip, effectively pinning you to the bed.

“Calm down. It’s just me,” he whispers before inhaling deeply once. Twice. Three times more. All the while you can’t help but squirm. But he only increases the pressure of his hands with each antsy wiggle of your hips.

As soon as you decide to be still again, he releases your hip to spread you open with two fingers and presses a gentle kiss to your clit. You nearly jump off the bed at the foreign sensation.

“Jungkook, wait, I—” but you don’t manage to get the words out before he kisses you again.

This time his tongue flicks out to collect some of arousal that’s been steadily collecting despite your nerves. As soon as the flavor spreads on his tongue, he freezes. You wonder for a moment if he’s going to pull back and say he’s made a mistake. But then he surges forward again and begins licking broad stripes across you, catching your clit every so often.

He watches you carefully to gauge your reactions to what he’s doing. Taking in your heated face and dewy skin, he deduces he’s going in the right direction. And when he drags the flat of his tongue over your entrance as if to drink from you, your lip automatically gets stuck between your teeth and your eyes flutter shut. It’s a good series of reactions, but he wants more from you. He wants to get you to do that thing where your back curves up off the mattress or get your hands to scrabble at his arms to ground you while you shake under him.

“Oh god. Right there,” you gasp when he wraps his lips around your clit randomly and sucks.

Jungkook nods resolutely before re-wetting his lips and repeating the action. You moan loudly when his tongue brushes against you in the midst of the suction. Your hand finds its way to the back of his head and presses until the lower half of his face is almost entirely flush with you. You remove your hand almost immediately once you realize what you’re doing.

“Sorry,” you mumble, “I got carried away.”

He pulls back with a wide grin and shining cheeks. “It’s okay. It’s good to know its going well.”

Your hand falls back down to rest tentatively near his head. You watch the shining brown mop of his hair return to bobbing between your legs and feel another rush of arousal gush forth. Even if you couldn’t feel it, Jungkook’s following groan of pleasant surprise and the wet sounds that follow have your eyes rolling to the ceiling partly out of acute pleasure and partly out of disbelief. Why couldn’t your life always be this nice and worry-free?

Jungkook’s gently circling fingers around your entrance have you snapping back to the present. You wonder if tonight is going to continue being a night of firsts when you remember that Jungkook probably hasn’t done much ‘internal’ work.

“Would it be too much?” Even though he doesn’t specify, you know what he’s asking.

“Just go slow.”

You’re already quickly approaching an orgasm, but hopefully this will get you there quicker. You feel almost sluggish with the fiery heat that’s seemingly been spreading from your core to the rest of your body in time with each pulse of his tongue. But when he inserts the first finger, you feel impossibly warmer.

His jaw drops open as your warm heat envelopes his digit immediately in a wet, vice-like grip. He can only imagine what it would feel like if he could be inside you the way he wanted to be, but even that pale phantom grip in the back of his mind is enough to have him bucking into the mattress. He leans in to press lingering kisses to your lower lips while twisting his wrist in matching time. Soon you’re clutching at his shoulders, gripping his hair, kicking your feet anxiously as your high approaches. You can almost taste it and stars are collecting in the corners of your vision as Jungkook continues to lap at your center messily. As if he can read your mind, he withdraws only to enter again with two fingers this time. It’s just enough thickness to stretch you the way you want, but the angle is off.

“Jungkook.”

“Hmm?”

“Bend your fingers back and press up.”

“Like this,” he asks while making some motion, concentration creasing his brows.

You quickly reach down and re-orient his wrist. With great care, he reproduces the motions at the new angle and delights in the fact that you’re now quaking above him. Broken variations of his name tumble from your lips as the waves of your orgasm take over. Your legs kicks out as they characteristically do and so he positions them to hang more safely over his shoulders, despite the fact that your ankles tickle at his sides. He presses a chaste kiss against the skin of your inner thigh and hopes you don’t notice the way he nuzzles into the skin to wipe his face off a bit.

When you’re limp and your breathing has returned back to normal, he crawls over your legs to lay beside you.

“Was that good?”

You turn to face him and take in his sweaty face and pleased expression. You roll your eyes and shove at his chest, but he just grabs your hand and squeezes it before releasing it.

“It was good. But don’t get a big head, you still have to climb back out the window later.”

“Am I banned from the door?”

“I’m still mad you decided it would be a good idea to climb the fire escape when you’d clearly been drinking.”

“Not a lot, though. I was still able to drive.”

“That’s not something you should advertise,” you laugh.

He shifts a little awkwardly next to you and you realize he might not have gotten the same thing you did from eating you out. He notices where your gaze travels and grins shyly, shoving a spare throw pillow over the tent in his slacks.

“Ah, sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. I just wish I wasn’t so tired. Otherwise, I could—”

“Don’t feel like you have to. I was just gonna take care of it myself.”

“Oh. Like, right now?”

“Yeah? If that’s okay.”

“Okay.”

You sit back and watch as he slowly shirks off his dress pants and briefs in one go. His erection springs forward and from the almost angry red flush across the shaft, you figure he must have been pretty uncomfortable. He strokes it absent-mindedly and realizes that he doesn’t have any lube before turning to you.

“You wanna do the honors,” he asks with his palm out. It takes you a while to understand what he’s asking.

“Like, you want me to…?”

“Yeah.”

With all your remaining energy, you attempt to spit into his palm in an attractive manner. You’re not sure if you succeed, because as soon as you’re done he gets to business. The way he moves his hand over his length is rough and fast. Almost as if he’s trying to play catch up; not necessarily with you, but maybe with himself. With whatever thoughts had been plaguing him earlier while you came on his fingers and tongue. His breath leaves him in little punched gasps and the sounds are so pleasing that you lean forward and capture his lips with your own.

You wouldn’t quite call what you’re doing kissing. It’s more like a series of brushes of lips as his erratic hand movements cause him to move in and out of your space. Though he occasionally stops to steal a few kisses, they only seem to egg him on further until he can only touch his forehead to yours while he brings himself over the edge, spilling into his hand.

“Better?” You pull away to grab some wet wipes out of the side table drawer.

“Definitely,” he sighs. “I can put these sheets in the wash before I go, if you want.”

“Oh,” you blink up at him. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, I have to get some sleep. I promised Yoori I’d take her to breakfast at Dreamies.”

“Wow. You’re taking her to Dreamies? Are you sure you’re not more serious than you’ve been letting on?”

“It’s not like that,” he laughs stiffly as he tugs on his clothes. “We’re getting food to-go and then going to a butterfly garden.”

“Well, that sounds fun too.”

You can’t help but let out a sigh of relief. Dreamies is the diner you and the rest of the group frequent when you’ve all done too much drinking the night before and need good hangover food. It’s also open 24 hours, so sometimes it’s where you all go when you have nothing better to do or when you just want to have a wholesome time. A lot of good memories have been made in Dreamies, but its always been with the whole group. The idea of Jungkook bringing Yoori there for a private date doesn’t exactly sit well with you. Though it’s not like you can say anything because no one ever did establish that Dreamies was a group space exclusively. And even if someone had, who are you to make demands about where Jungkook and Yoori go out on dates?

Jungkook makes good on his promise and puts your sheets in the wash and even makes your bed while you wait for the washer to stop. He leaves when the dryer cycle finishes, pulling you in by the waist and kissing you deeply before strutting out the door with a flourish.

“I come bearing clothes,” you say as soon as Yoori opens the door.

She’d told you over the phone to bring some things to go out in after bugging you about firming up weekend plans. It still isn’t clear where you’re going, so you have brought a variety of outfits to cover the spectrum of possible events. You figured that you would get ready at her place as soon as you found out where you were going. But when she opens the door with makeup already done and her hair already curled, you’re a bit confused.

“Hello! How are you, my lovely?” She envelopes you tightly in a hug before taking the clothes out of your hands.

“I’m great. I got all excited on the way over because I thought we were gonna glam up together here, but it looks like you already did that.”

“I know,” she grimaces. “It’s just that Jungkook asked me if I wanted to go to the arcade out of the blue after we got brunch and I didn’t know what type of atmosphere that might be, so I just got as ready as possible. And then we went on a drive. We didn’t actually interact with any other humans. I could have worn my PJs.”

“That’s Jungkook for you,” you snort dryly. “So, uh, how was that drive?”

“You don’t have to ask me how our date went. I know it’s awkward to talk about dating your best friend. I’ll spare you.”

“Thank you.”

Yoori hands you a glass of your favorite wine, something she’s been keeping regularly stocked in her wine fridge since you became friends. You toe off your shoes before heading into the living room with her.

“Do you want tonight to be a surprise or do you want me to tell you where we’re going?” She reaches out to play with a loose string on the throw blanket adorning the couch, watching you with wide eyes as you drain your glass.

“Tell me. So I can pick out my outfit accordingly.”

“Okay. Just…promise me you won’t knock it before you try it.”

“I wouldn’t do that unless you said we were going somewhere ridiculous.” You tilt your head with a no nonsense stare. “And we wouldn’t do that, right? We’re not doing anything ridiculous?”

All she does is beam at you before pulling her phone out and scrolling through her photo album until she comes to the right image. She hands you the phone silently, lip bitten in anticipation.

“Hell no,” you say as soon as you see the flyer she’s taken a screenshot of. It’s advertising a Lady’s Night at a club with an open dance floor and drinks at a discounted rate. Immediately you hand the phone back and wish for more wine to magically appear in your glass.

“Please? I feel like it would be so fun, and it’s supposed to be a really great place. Pretty please?”

“Why can’t we just stay in and order Thai? I like your place, you don’t have to take me anywhere.”

“You make us sound like an old married couple. Besides, you never spend your weekends anywhere other than with those boys.” When you give her an unamused stare, she backpedals. “Charming as they are. Don’t get me wrong, I love them all. But don’t you think it would be fun to switch things up? Neither of us go out enough. We’re wasting our youth and beauty.”

“Excuse me. You’re dating my best friend, remember?”

“And by ‘we’, I meant not me.”

You roll your eyes and opt into searching for the wine bottle she used to pour your first drink. It catches your eye across the room where it sits at the long cherry dining table. You move to get up, but Yoori clamps down on your wrist with a pleading expression.

“Please?”

“I don’t want to spend the money.”

“I’ll pay for both our cover charges. Please?”

“The drinks will be shitty and I’ll need to be drunk to enjoy it.”

“We can drink here first and call a cab. Please?”

“I didn’t bring any makeup.”

“You left some over here from last time. Pleeease?”

“But the guys there will—“

“I’ll protect you,” you frown, unconvinced. “Please? I’ll even stay sober the whole night so nothing gets by me.”

“Fine. But only for an hour.”

“What? That’s too short, nothing good can happen in an hour. That’s too unrealistic. Two hours.”

“I’ll give you an hour and a half. After that, we’re coming back here and I’m sleeping over. Deal?”

She considers your conditions for a brief second before finally letting you get up. “You have to let me do your makeup and let me put pictures on my Instagram story.”

“Sure, but that will cost you another 15 minutes.”

Your back is turned to her as you fill up your glass, but you can practically see her writhing with indecision. Schooling your features into neutrality, you turn back to face her, and she straightens up.

“Deal.”

It takes much longer than it should have to get ready, but in the end, that’s a good thing because Yoori had originally wanted to show up to the event on time. Though you don’t get out much, even you know that arriving fashionably late means a better chance at getting there when everything is in full swing. Much better than getting there when there are 10 people in the whole club and no one is having any fun yet.

You let her apply your makeup, but you don’t let her pick your outfit much to Yoori’s chagrin. It doesn’t matter though because you’re no less miserable as she drags you into the bathroom to take a series of selfies.

That’s not to say that you hate selfies or that you never take them. You take them when you’re bored, when you’re texting the group chat, when you’re talking to your mom, when you’re home alone and feeling yourself. Next to Yoori, though, you can’t help but feel a little intimidated. Yoori doesn’t know your angles, Yoori doesn’t know your favorite filters and it’s not something you can just ask someone to change. Specific filters and angles are the bread and butter of anyone’s best selfies, and they’re not easily interchanged for someone else’s. As an engineering student, you can appreciate the complex science that is selfie-taking. And as much as you love Yoori, you don’t want to be the eyesore on her Instagram and cost her followers. Part of you hopes she gets drunk so you can take her phone and delete them later.

But she stays true to her word and doesn’t drink any more after leaving the apartment to go to the club. You stay true to your word as well and toss back another drink as soon as you get there, hoping that it will calm your nerves. In all honesty, you know there’s nothing to be nervous about, but you still order a second drink at the bar immediately after so you have something to do with your hands. You look good and you most likely won’t see any of the people at the club ever again, but you still feel out of place.

“You look terrified,” Yoori whispers in your ear. She’s been watching your expression carefully the whole time and has started to regret bugging you about coming.

“I am.”

“If you want, we can just go home now. I didn’t realize you hated going out this much.”

“It’s not that I hate going out,” you shout over the music. “It’s just that I can never let go off what other people might be thinking about me. And if I can’t do that, I can’t have fun.”

Yoori nods in sympathy. Although, she also doesn’t like the feeling of being scrutinized, she knows you’re coming from a different place. You’ve spoken candidly to her a few times about you feel like the two of you make an odd pairing. She remembers the way you spoke about her, all laudatory words, and then how you spoke about yourself. Yoori wants to compliment you the way you do her, but she knows that certain kind words only act as cold comfort for you.

“What can I do?”

You ponder the question for a bit. You figure, if you can manage to fake having the time of your life for 10 minutes, you can trick yourself into actually having fun for the rest of the night. With that thought, you finish your drink in a few large swallows before grabbing Yoori’s hand.

“Do you wanna dance with me?”

Yoori blinks down at you with wide eyes but nods somewhat shyly. You let her guide you into the throng of dancing bodies. As the song washes over you, you do a simple two-step while you decide what type of vibe to go for. Quickly the song grows on you, and you begin to put more energy into your dancing. At the sight of you enthusiastically swiveling your hips to the beat of the song with a smile on your face, Yoori beams.

The night unfolds like that. You manage to throw away your inhibitions in favor of dancing for hours. Yoori takes a couple videos of you when the right song comes on and puts you into a sexy musical trance. You take turns shooing random guys away who thinking they can casually fist pump their way into your sacred space. A few girls much drunker than you wander over to you and you welcome them with open arms and dance with them for a few songs, but they always float away after a while. Not without Yoori inquiring where their friends are and waiting until said friends come to collect them first, though. All in all, it’s more fun than almost all of your game nights combined. The thought makes you guilty for all of .3 seconds before you remember that none of the guys would ever go out dancing unless it was a means to an end of getting laid.

When the clock strikes 1:30—much later than you had originally promised to stay out—you collect your things and let Yoori guide you once more. This time she leads you outside to get a ride back to her place. She lays her pristine white leather jacket on your sweaty shoulders when she sees you shivering from the drastic temperature change that comes with leaving the balmy dance-floor.

“Tonight was so fun,” you drawl on the way over. Your head lolls onto her shoulder and she smooths the stray strands of hair off your forehead.

“It was. I was worried for a minute that you wouldn’t like it.”

“Mmm, me too. Yoori, this was great.”

“You never say my name.” She gets out of the car first before paying the driver and then goes back in to get you, slinging your arm over her slender shoulders.

“I know. Feels weird if I do.”

“I like it.”

“M’kay.”

As soon as the door opens, you race for the bathroom. One of the prices to pay for a good night out is dealing with a wine bladder and a hangover. The peeing, you could handle. The hangover, though, dwells in the back of your mind ominously as you brush your teeth and hastily remove your makeup. You’re pretty sure you haven’t taken all of it off when your face hits the cushion of the couch, but the couch is leather so you don’t care. Yoori, however, does care.

“Oh, no you don’t. Come here,” she grabs at you until she gets a hold and can walk you the remainder of the way to her room.

“I don’t wanna walk.”

“You don’t want to sleep on the couch either.”

“Where we goin’?”

“To bed, silly.”

You nod and let her escort you there. Immediately, you slide your skirt down and scramble to take off your crop top. As you fumble with your sleep shirt, Yoori respectfully turns away to change into her own pajamas, cheeks burning.

The covers feel pleasantly cool under your hands as you wait for her to finish changing. “Which side d’you want?”

“I usually sleep in the middle, actually. But I can sleep on whichever side you don’t pick tonight.”

“I sleep on this side.”

“Okay,” she nods agreeably.

“Tomorrow, do you wanna get Dream—oh wait. You went already. You probably don’t want it a second time. I’ll just go to Starbucks or something on my way back.”

“N-no! I’d love to go tomorrow. I was hoping to try their waffles at some point, anyway.”

“Okay, great. Goodnight, Yoori.”

“Goodnight,” she says quietly after the lights have been turned off.

Emotionally, the following week is fine, but it’s hard on your body.

Your hangover takes over your whole Sunday, leaving you to slightly behind on work Monday. It creates a spiral of catching up on work that has you staying up further and further past your bedtime and unable to be as social as you’d like. Yoori lets you know via Snapchat that she misses you but that Jungkook has taken your spot at your usual study table. The two of them look adorable in the little puppy ear filter Yoori’s put over the short video. You watch with mixed feelings as Yoori blows a kiss and then remembers that Jungkook is there and ushers him into blowing a kiss as well. It’s not nearly as enthusiastic and stiffer than the one Yoori sent you but it still sends your heart into a fluttering tizzy.

Friday couldn’t come soon enough. But as soon as you wake up that morning, you feel jittery and off. All your warm clothes are in the hamper, none of them salvageable for one last wear. And all your motivation has been zapped after the week of constant working you just had. Classes prove to be no better despite the fact that they give you time to get out of your head.

The rest of the day is syrupy, leaving you struggling through it even as you try to go with the flow of the sluggishly passing hours. Normally you aim for productivity, but as soon as your final lecture for the day ends, you find yourself unable to pass time with work. You take a walk through campus and even venture all the way over to the theatre department, on the other side of the common grounds. You try to sit on the frosted benches looking out over the man-made pond students often frequent, but your joggers aren’t prepared for the extreme cold and you realize maybe familiarity, instead of novelty, is what will make the time pass by quicker.

You decide to text Taehyung. His schedule is something that you’ve come to passively memorize after weeks of the information casually floating through past conversations.

You: Im bored

BigBoi: Where r u I’ll pick u up

You: @ Seemond’s pond…

BigBoi: ???

Taehyung arrives not ten minutes later, cheeks flushed with exertion from hustling over. He’s also not at all dressed for the weather, but doesn’t look bothered by it either in his university hoodie and thick knitted scarf. His beaten sneakers crunch loudly on the thin layer of white that’s collected since the last snowfall a few days ago.

“Oh my god, Tae, aren’t you freezing?”

Immediately you approach him and pull the hood laying limply along his shoulder blades over his colored hair. The roots have since started growing in and the color has faded enough to give him more of a coppery rose gold look. It’s a color so many Instagram influencers would have shit themselves over last summer trying to perfect at a professional salon, and here Taehyung stands with it after a bleach-happy accident in his dorm’s communal bathroom sink.

“Not really. I was actually nearby looking for a printer in BPD hall.”

“What for?”

“Financial aid forms,” he sighs. You grimace in sympathy before shirking your oversized black mittens.

“At least put these on if you’re not even going to pretend you checked the weather this morning.”

“What about you?” He gestures to the parts of your bare hands that he can see poking out from the sleeves of your own large puffy jacket.

“I’ll be fine. This has fleece-lined pockets. Meanwhile,” bending over, you peer into the front tummy pocket of his hoodie. “You only have a tootsie roll lining.” You dig your fist into the pocket and pull out the scraps of trash he’d been hiding in there with only mild disgust marring your features. “How do you live like that?”

“Dunno, just do. Maybe it’s because people like you can’t help but throw it out before I get the chance to get sick of it and do it myself.”

“Fair enough.”

“What should we do?”

“I don’t know. I’m cold and I don’t wanna do work.”

“How about a movie marathon?”

“Sure.”

* * *

“This isn’t what I thought you meant when you said movie,” you huff as the black opening credit scene dissolves and a French couple in a black and white colorscape whisper to one another in a moonlit alley.

“You said you didn’t care what we watched.”

“That was under the assumption that I would be able to understand it. There’s not even subtitles.”

“You don’t need them.”

“Yes, I do, because I don’t speak French. And neither do you.”

“That doesn’t really matter. You can read their body language and get all you need to from that.”

You try to fix your stare on the couple who is now running from the police with a pair of bloodied knives in their hands and smiles on their faces.

“This isn’t a horror movie, is it?”

“No,” he trails off suspiciously. When you whip your head to the side to glare at him, he cracks. “What? It’s not! It’s a thriller.”

“Anything that could give me nightmares is a horror movie, Taehyung.”

“It’s not even that scary,” he says right at the moment when the couple is seen carving into a police man’s face with the previously shown knives.

The cinematic effects are gross but clearly dated and if you were a reasonable person, you would find it laughable. But instead the dyed corn syrup dripping off the actor’s face just makes your stomach clench and you grab onto Taehyung’s arm out of disgust and anger.

“Why would you put me through this?”

“To get your mind off of Jungkook,” he says matter-of-factly.

Your mouth drops open when you realize partly that he’s right and partly you haven’t had a single moping thought about Jungkook and Yoori in the near hour it took to pick up snacks from the convenience store and walk over to Taehyung’s place from the pond while avoiding ice patches. It’s honestly a brilliant plan, but you hate him for it at the same time.

“You’re a dick.” You punctuate the statement with a sharp punch to the meat of his shoulder and revel in the bashful look he gives you while rubbing at the spot. “But thank you. If you wanted to get my mind off it, you didn’t have to use horror to do it.”

“True, but my options were limited since, one, I don’t have cable, and two, I don’t want to watch reality tv.”

“We could make fun of shitty rom-coms. That’s a good compromise.”

And that is how you end up watching a slightly watered down knock off of Fifty Shades with the TV remote in hand, rewinding, so you can point out where you can see the camera person’s reflection in the female lead’s pendant necklace.

“That’s a huge oversight. I can’t believe these people walk around like they’ve dedicated their lives to a certain level of craft only to do this”

“I mean, the fact that they used Papyrus font in their online movie poster should have clued you in,” you snort.

Both of you watch as the male lead swims up to his co-star where she stands at the foot of the pool he’s in. The grin he flashes her is blindingly white and his teeth resemble pearls in an unattractively artificial way.

“Why do people think veneers like that look good,” you sigh and shift so you can reach over and play with the faded pink strands of Taehyung’s hair. He leans in unconsciously and shrugs.

“I don’t know. Maybe they think people won’t be able to tell the difference.”

“I suppose that’s fair. But with everything being filmed in high definition these days, there’s less wiggle room for that sort of thing.”

Male lead reaches for the slender ankle of his co-star and tugs her into the pool, soaking her dainty white eyelet dress. When she comes up for air, she pouts for a second before swiping at him and missing. She nearly falls face first back into the water but he reaches out with a condescending laugh and catches her with ease despite what physics would predict to be possible. The moment turns serious quickly as the pair stare into each other’s eyes. You don’t understand how she’s supposed to be the homely girl next door when she’s got what you know are the most expensive mink lash extensions on the market and the most symmetrical, albeit oddly familiar, face you’ve ever seen.

“Wow,” Taehyung scoffs as the actor pulls her in for a heated kiss. “They really think that’s what buildup looks like. It’s fifteen minutes in and we still don’t know his name. And didn’t they just meet for the first time the day before this?”

“Keep up, Tae. Don’t you know all women want in life is to get rawed in the pool of the mystery guy who cut them off in the supermarket 24 hours prior?”

“Ah. That must be why my sex life is so grim.”

“Look at that,” you gesture to the couple that is now stumbling out of the pool and into the man’s perfectly lit mansion in a race to get to the bedroom. “That could be you if you had decided to take your dad’s car this year and cut some random girl off in the parking lot of the Price Chopper.”

“Damn. Would I have his mansion too?” You nod gravely.

“Probably.” You finish plaiting the hair of his sideburns and leave him with a little inflexible pink braid poking out from his temple.

“How’s it look?” He gestures to the side of his head with your handiwork on it.

“You look really great. You might not even need to break the rules of parking etiquette to snag a hot date.”

You both return your attention to the TV only to find the movie couple in a fairly compromising position. The lead actress is bent over the arm of a sofa as the camera ‘artistically’ captures the rapid way the actor drills into her from behind. It catches both of you off guard and a nervous laugh bubbles its way out of you.

“This is ridiculous.” Taehyung rolls his eyes and turns to laugh at the display with you.

“Yeah,” you say half-heartedly.

Even though the movie is horribly done and nothing in its execution per se turns you on, it is Friday. And your body has gotten pretty used to your weekend schedule. Which, up until recently, would have meant that at this hour Taehyung and Hoseok would be out somewhere looking for a place to vape while you helped Jungkook out of his pants at his apartment.

But that’s not what’s happening right now because Jungkook is probably on his way in a rental car to pick Yoori up for their third official date. To the movies. Still, that doesn’t stop your body from revving up more than it should after watching such a stupid romance movie. If you close your eyes, you’re sure you could remember with scary accuracy the feel of Jungkook’s hands on you.

“Hey.” At your awkward silence, Taehyung’s voice lowers and he leans in to tease you, “You’re not actually enjoying this, are you?”

“N-no, of course not.”

He lets out an incredulous laugh. “Holy crap, you are. You’re into this.”

“No, I’m not! Stop!”

“This is hilarious. I can’t believe you like this.” He stares at the screen with a baffled smile on his face, trying to see what could be so appealing about the affected look of arousal on the male lead’s face as he bites his lip with zero finesse. “Is it him?”

“It’s not him,” you scrabble for an answer, “I-it’s the actress.” At that his eyes widen and he looks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. “I mean, I recognize her from a porno, that’s all.”

“No way,” he says before studying the woman’s face. When the actor pulls tightly on her ponytail and forces a whining moan out of her, his eyes light up with recognition. “Wait, yeah, you’re right.”

“Told you.”

“Hold on. You watch porn?” You roll your eyes.

“Yeah, I watch porn. Sometimes I need some visual stimuli too. And she’s been in a few of them.”

“Hmm,” he says finally, “Never would have thought you’d like her stuff.”

“You say that like you’ve thought about what I’d watch.”

“Well, you’re just so—“

A sharp sound comes from near the front door as Hoseok barges in hurriedly, nearly falling and spilling the grocery bags in his hands. He places them on the small table outside the entrance to the tiny kitchenette.

“Tae, I tried calling you like 5 different times about getting the door. Why didn’t you pick up your...phone,” Hoseok trails off as he takes in the fact that you’re in Taehyung’s apartment, very early to the Friday game night, seated very close to Taehyung with a flaming cheeks on the couch while what looks like soft-core porn plays in the background.

“My phone must have died from the cold. Bro, I’m really sor—“

“What the hell are you two doing,” he sneers.

“We were just watching a movie,” you pipe in when you sense a weird shift in the mood.

Obviously, you’re closer to Jungkook than you are to Taehyung or Hoseok, but you really don’t understand the strange energy in the room. Hoseok looks angrier than he should about Taehyung not helping him with carrying some snacks and Taehyung looks overly imploring. Perhaps this is just how they are when they’re annoyed, but it still strikes you as odd even from a slightly distant perspective. When no one says anything you get up slowly, like you would around wild animals in a territory death match, and move towards Hoseok to help him with the food.

“Here, I’ll help you put these away,” you say quietly with a soft hand on his back to get him to break his cold glare. “Don’t be mad at Tae, he didn’t do anything.”

The glare is only slightly softened as he turns to you, jaw clenched. “Well, what about you?”

“What are you talking about?”

The genuine confusion on your face seems to dissolve whatever’s left of the sudden rage that filled him, and he breaks down and lets you take the bags he’s still holding from him. While your back is turned, Hoseok looks suspiciously over at Taehyung, who is still staring back with large, nervous eyes.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly when you finish unpacking the first bag of chips and come over to him to take the next one.

“Whatever,” you huff good-naturedly. “As long as you leave me out of your little lovers’ quarrel, I’m fine. Go make up, I’ll finish with these.”

You watch Hoseok amble over to Taehyung and begin whispering frantically before they finally come to some sort of agreement and hug it out.

When you come back to the couch, Hoseok has taken your spot next to Taehyung and has man-spread all over the rest of the free space. Even the back of the couch is claimed by his outstretched arms. Both of them stop their whispered conversation and turn to see why you’re hovering.

“What’s up,” Hoseok inquires suspiciously.

“Are we gonna do anything tonight? I could be in bed right now, but instead I’m here.”

“We have to pick the game first. My vote is for poker.”

“No poker. You still owe me like 80 bucks from last time you thought you could bluff,” Taehyung crosses his arms in a huff.

“That’s in the past, I’m a new man now. This Hoseok doesn’t owe you anything.”

“You’re an ass.” Taehyung springs to the side and quickly locks Hoseok in a sloppy headlock.

You watch them struggle on the couch in mild interest until Taehyung loses his footing and Hoseok’s wiggling underneath him pitches them both onto the floor. Someone’s head hits the coffee table on the way down, and you wince in sympathy, but they carry on like nothing happened.

The idea of letting them tire themselves out seems appealing at first but when Hoseok sinks his teeth into Taehyung’s hoodie-clad bicep and draws out a yelp, you intervene as neutrally as possible.

“Why don’t we just start with Gin Rummy?”

“Okay.” Hoseok drops Taehyung’s arm from his mouth, suddenly content.

You give him a wide berth and wait until after he goes into the kitchen to hunt for a deck of cards to offer Taehyung a helping hand up off the ground. He doesn’t make eye contact with you as you make your way over to the table, so you can’t silently grill him.

“How many is it? 5 per person,” Hoseok asks while shuffling the cards.

Small Styrofoam bowls are neatly laid out across the center of the table, each one filled with the chips from earlier. You perch in the chair next to Hoseok so you’re close to the Cheetos.

“It’s 7, I think.”

“Cool,” is all he says before handing you your cards.

You go around the table for a few rounds, placing cards down that you don’t need, picking up cards that you do and the occasional chip. Halfway through the first round, Taehyung gets up to turn off the fluorescents and turn on the fairy lights Hoseok won’t stop teasing him for having. You sync your phone up to his speaker and play music in the background and revel in the fact that you’re getting back into the swing of having fun with them. Without Jungkook.

“You still got beer, right?” Hoseok doesn’t look up from his cards since he’s very close to winning the round and he needs only 1 more card.

“Yeah,” you say, slapping down another card. “We picked some up at the convenience store. I’ll go get a pack for the table.”

“Thanks. I think I’m gonna call out for food too. What do you guys want?”

“I want pancakes,” Taehyung smiles brightly at the prospect of something other than the sad deli meats in his fridge.

Opening the door to his fridge leaves you confused. “You have stuff for pancakes.”

“Yeah, but I have to cook it,” he pouts at you through the window in the kitchen wall.

“It’s your turn,” Hosoek informs you.

You load up with supplies for making pancakes and head over to the table to distribute the ingredients amongst yourselves. Taehyung cracks eggs when it’s not his turn, Hoseok levels out the dry ingredients. You’re pouring milk into a bowl when one of your favorite songs from high school starts blaring through the speakers.

“Oh shit! Do you guys remember when this came out?”

“They played it at my homecoming dance,” Hoseok grimaces at the memory while you gyrate and mix the ingredients in a large bowl. “And then they played it on the radio for, like, 3 months straight afterwards. It was fucking annoying.”

“Yeah, but it’s been so long now. It’s good again. Come on, get up.” You pass Taehyung the bowl and creep towards Hoseok.

“What are you doing?” He smiles up at you like you’re crazy. You lace your fingers together and pull him out of his chair.

“What does it look like? I’m making you dance with me.”

“But you can’t dance, though.”

“Don’t ruin the fun,” you whine.

At first he doesn’t dance with you. He just continues to stand and lets you mouth the words at him and occasionally wave your hands in his face or pinch his cheeks when the lyrics get good. He even lets you bump hips with him and pretend to grind on him from behind.

Despite himself, your good mood is infectious and when you scamper back in front of him for the chorus, he surprises you by taking you into waltz position. It doesn’t fit the song, but it’s funny because you end up doing a bouncy-looking two step that resembles a sped-up prom dance. Taehyung hoots supportively from where he stands in the kitchen, melting butter on the stove.

Hoseok bends you over into a theatrical dip, causing you to let out a shrieking laugh and clutch at him so he doesn’t drop you. The song ends, but he jokingly holds the pose until your thighs are burning and you’re yelling for him to pull you back up. The front door clicks open while you bicker lightly.

“Look who decided to show up,” Hoseok drawls and finally brings you back up slowly, so you don’t get a head rush.

You blink away the stars that were starting to form in the corners of your eyes and realize Jungkook is, in fact, back from his date. At 9:43, no less. With Yoori in tow.

In your opinion, it’s much too early for someone to be back from date night with the long-time love of their life, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything. Instead you fiddle with the hem of your sweater nervously. Something about Yoori and Jungkook being present in the same room makes you a bit anxious. Perhaps its because it makes your policy about stopping your weekly rendezvous until things get physically serious between the two of them seem very flimsy.

Yoori and Jungkook are both clearly tipsy. You can tell from the way Jungkook hangs himself off her petite frame like he’s looking for support. You roll your eyes and go over to wrestle him from her and waddle him over to the dining room table where he can sit.

“How was your date,” you turn to Yoori who is hovering behind you with sleepy eyes.

“It was alright. The movie was a little boring,” she stage-whispers into your ear. “Don’t tell Kook.”

“You didn’t like the movie?” His head lolls back so he can look up at Yoori with doe eyes. Disappointment makes them look extra round and shiny.

She raises her brows guiltily. “I thought the new superhero movie would have been more your speed. I didn’t mind the idea of seeing it. I like action films.”

“Oh.”

You scamper out of the dining area as fast as you can to join Hoseok and Taehyung in the kitchen. The awkward couple moment they’re having isn’t something you think you should be privy to anyway.

Taehyung chuckles at the mortified expression on your face while Hoseok’s considers you stoically.

“Are they being too mushy in there?”

“No, not really.” You sigh. “It’s just weird realizing that I’ve never really been around them when they’re together. I don’t like the idea that I can’t get a read on the situation when they’re both good friends, you know?”

Hoseok snorts dryly. “Well, you know what they say. Dating changes people.”

“Yeah, but this is Kook we’re talking about,” Taehyung murmurs while stirring the hidden flour patches at the bottom of the bowl back into the batter. “Do you really think he’s changed that much?”

You shrug. “I don’t know.”

“Maybe you’ve changed,” Hoseok suggests.

And maybe you have. Not in the normal way, where you outgrow people. But maybe something about you has changed since you started being intimate with Jungkook in such a way where you can’t be just his gaming buddy or his companionable silence partner. Gone are the days where you could push down your infatuation long enough to sit pressed close to each other on the couch when the Iron Man movie series is marathoning on TV. You’re not sure if that’s made things easier or harder on you. Perhaps its been a little bit of both.

“What are you guys up to?”

Jungkook has managed to amble over to the kitchen while staying upright thanks to Yoori’s guiding hands. Now he’s peering into the entrance of the kitchen after the way you, Taehyung, and Hoseok whispering to one another piqued his interest. Yoori lays on the sofa, recovering from too many glasses of complimentary movie chardonnay.

You keep your head down and pretend watching Taehyung ladle batter onto the griddle is fascinating enough not to reply. Thoughts of whether or not something crucial has shifted occupy your mind too much for you to speak.

“Just playing cards and making pancakes,” Taehyung shouts over the crackling sound of the first pancake hitting the hot skillet.

“The usual,” Hoseok jokes before pitching his voice into a slyer register. “How was the date?”

“It was fine,” Jungkook answers shyly, eyes glued to your silent form. The button down he’s wearing suddenly feels too tight and he undoes the top button to give himself some air. “How was your night?”

“Here, I’ll take over,” you mumble.

You take the spatula from Taehyung’s hand and motion for the guys to leave the kitchen while you flip the pancakes. It’ll give you something to do, and Taehyung’s thoughtful enough to go without asking questions. They don’t move far and instead Hosoek and Taehyung crowd Jungkook just outside the kitchen doorframe. Hopefully none of them notice how you turn the heat down so you can listen better. A masochistic part of you is curious to know how the date went even if you’re not sure if you can face him without combusting.

“Come on, tell us what happened. It’s just us guys,” Hoseok hisses before remembering that you’re you and you’re probably listening. Suddenly he feels like a douche. “We’re all friends,” he corrects himself. Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be aware of your eavesdropping and complies.

“I…what do you wanna know?”

“Where’d you go?”

“To the movies. To see Cloud Break.”

Taehyung whistles lowly. “That’s supposed to be the number one date movie of the year.”

“It was very romantic,” Jungkook cracks a small, shy smile. “But I don’t think she really liked it.”

“Stil. Sounds like our boy is a real Casanova, huh?” Hoseok pats him roughly on the back with a wide grin. “The movies, though. Did you make it to third base?”

“Jeez, don’t sound so excited when you ask that,” Taehyung says with a cringe.

“What? I just wanna know if he’s any closer to swiping that V card. So,” Hoseok turns to stare, “Did you?”

“We’re taking it slow,” is all Jungkook says, eyes shifting behind the guys, towards you.

“Pancakes are ready,” you call from the kitchen. You figure it’s safe for you go back out, so you load a plate up with a tall stack and turn the stove off. Yoori’s head pops up at the sound of fresh food and hops up to come join you.

After you put the plate down, you wait until everyone is seated. Oddly enough, Jungkook and Yoori both sit on either side of the head of the table, leaving you to sit in between them.

“Thanks for cooking,” Jungkook mutters as soon as you sit down.

“No need to thank me. I’m just doing my part to have a fun Friday,” you answer awkwardly.

“These look better than the ones at Dreamies,” Yoori beams over at you. She cuts her pancakes happily before shoving a large, syrup-laden bite in her mouth. She gives you a cute thumbs up that breaks your serious mood for a moment.

You give her a warm squeeze on the shoulder. “Thanks for the high praise.”

“So, uh, what else have you guys been doing,” Jungkook inquires politely.

“Well,” Hoseok mentions nonchalantly through a full mouth, gesturing towards you. “I caught these two watching porn earlier when I came in with groceries. And this one couldn’t keep her hands off me after that.”

“Oh.” Jungkook’s cheeks start to heat as he looks between you and Hoseok and then you and Taehyung.

You almost choke on your own food as Hoseok’s words register. “That is so inaccurate. How are you so comfortable lying like that?”

“Is it not the truth? Kook, you even saw her when you came in. Seems like she’s a real minx when she gets going. Who knew all it took was Fifty Shades.”

Taehyung tries to come to your rescue. “We weren’t even watching Fifty Shades—”

“So, it was actual porn,” Hoseok’s eyes narrow at him suspiciously.

“Oh my god,” you raise your hands in surrender and then push your plate back. “I can’t do this. I’m freezing and you’re annoying. Tae, I’m stealing some clothes. Yoori, you look cold. I’ll bring you something too.” You storm out of the dining room and make a beeline for Taehyung’s room.

While you were used to Hoseok’s ribbing, today you were extra sensitive to it and you needed some air. But you are actually cold, so you do spend a few minutes rummaging through Taehyung’s immaculate wardrobe until you find a sweater that has you smiling widely at the memories it evokes.

“I can’t believe you still have this,” you remark with arms out to showcase the sweater when you come back. The four of them all turn to see the sweater you’re wearing.

It’s a run-of-the-mill sweater until you look at the picture that’s been screen-printed onto the front. It’s a picture of you and Taehyung in your freshman year that was taken minutes after the annual Mud Run. It had been a split-second decision the two of you made after a terrible set of midterms, but the smiles on both of your slightly rounder and muddied faces don’t indicate any inkling of regret. You give Yoori the only cashmere you could find that wasn’t on the floor.

“Of course he still has it,” Hoseok smiles proudly, “I put my blood, sweat, and tears into making it. And I was there to take the fricking picture at the end of the race at 9 am on a Saturday. Do you not still have yours?”

“Sadly no. I lost mine when I moved into the sophomore dorms.”

“I wish I had been there to watch the race. I should have stayed on campus,” Jungkook chimes in, cheeks full of pancake.

“Yeah,” Hoseok counters, “But if you had stayed, you wouldn’t have ever gotten Yoori’s number in the first place. So, it all worked out in the end, right?”

Suddenly, you’re not hungry and the lively mood that the night started with has disappeared. Taehyung must sense the subtle downward shift in your shoulders and runs to get the bottle of wine Hoseok bought for you that’s been chilling in the fridge.

“Why don’t we play another game,” he suggests once he’s back at the table and filling your glass.

Yoori perks up. “That’s a great idea! Let’s play something old-school. Do you have any board games?”

“I don’t think either of us has played a board game since before 2010. Much less owned one,” Jungkook winces.

“Really? Well, it doesn’t have to be a board game. Why don’t we do another old-fashioned one. Like Charades.”

Hoseok places his head in his hands elegantly, face the picture of innocence. But you know better.

“Yoori, how do you feel about Truth or Dare?” You squeeze your eyes shut and hope she says she’s never heard of it. Or that she hates it.

“I love Truth or Dare! Let’s play once everyone’s done eating.”

You curse under your breath, but return her excited smile when she turns to you and fills your cup once more. As a safety precaution, you finish the single pancake you’d served yourself earlier before taking another sip. Its not that you’re hungry, but you’d rather not be drinking on a completely empty stomach.

When everyone has had their fill of food, new bottles of booze get taken with you to the living room. There, you all rearrange the couch and the various upholstered chairs that Taehyung has collected until everyone is seated comfortably. Taehyung sits down last because he was in his room searching for his trusted 20 sided die.

“Okay, who’s who?”

“I call 3’s,” Hoseok calls with a hand raised straight in the air.

“No way,” you huff, “You’ll have way too many chances to be It. Pick multiples of at least four or I’m banning you from playing.”

“You can’t ban me from playing. Tae, can she ban me from playing?”

“I’m gonna go ahead and say yeah,” Taehyung says casually. You smile at Hosoek smugly.

“Fine. I pick 5’s.”

“I’ll take 3’s,” Yoori says once she understands the rules you all are operating under. No one goes to argue against her.

“I call even primes,” you say. You’re really not interested in playing this game.

Hoseok rolls his eyes at you. “Why even play if you’re gonna be like that?”

“You’re both wrong,” Taehyun grins. “Odd primes is where it’s at.”

“I guess I’ll take leftovers,” Jungkook sighs. He’s equally unenthused to be playing, but mainly because every previous time he’s played the game, Taehyung has dared him to smack Hoseok’s ass as hard as possible. It never ends well. “What is that? 3, 4, 5, 8 and what else?”

“14 through 16,” you supply automatically.

“Wow,” Yoori coos and latches onto your arm. “You’re so smart.”

“Alright! If everyone has a number, let’s play,” Hoseok shouts.

In the first few rolls, Taehyung and Yoori get the majority of the turns. Yoori is kind and sticks with truths for the most part, forcing Taehyung to bring up the strawberry shaped birthmark on his ass and Jungkook to talk about how he still doesn’t know how to ride a bike. Things pick up a bit when Hoseok manages a roll and Taehyung makes the mistake of choosing Dare. In response, Hoseok tells Taehyung to pull down his pants and show everyone the birthmark. You and Yoori exchange wide glances and giggle quietly as Taehyung downs the rest of his drink for some liquid courage.

“Taehyung,” Yoori giggles behind your hand as you attempt to cover her eyes. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t feel comfortable.”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice,” he grumbles before turning to face away from the group. He tugs his pants and boxers down a few inches before the pert curve of his butt. There, just south of the equator on the globe of his ass lies a very strawberry-shaped birthmark.

Immediately, Yoori chokes on her drink trying, and failing, to stifle her laughter at the pure ridiculousness of the mark. Meanwhile, you aren’t doing much better.

You pull your lip between your teeth as you hold back the cackle you desperately wish to let out. Instead, you opt for reaching out and pinching at the nearest cheek. The way he jumps slightly out of your reach while cupping his junk and glaring weakly at you sends you over the edge.

“Not bad,” Yoori snorts out between giggles.

“Yeah, wait a minute.” You gasp. “You have a cute little ass, Tae. I thought you said you didn’t have time for the gym.”

Taehyung’s face flushes, but he still smiles a self-depricating smile as he pulls up his pants finally. “I don’t. This baby is 100% homegrown.”

“I see. Must be all the tater tots,” you say with tears nearly rolling down your cheeks.

“And all the La-Z boy sitting.”

“Nice.”

Jungkook huffs audibly. He crosses his arms as he watches the game unfold, suddenly infinitely less interested in playing than he was a few minutes ago. “This is stupid.”

“Are you not having fun?”

He turns to Yoori quickly while remembering that he’s seated next to her. His own cheeks color with a bit of shame that he’d been caught being petulant.

“It’s not that. I mean…I just thought this would be a bit more mature.”

Yoori cocks her head to the side to appraise him and takes a sip of wine. “Is Truth or Dare known for its sophisticated gameplay?” A reserved and unreadable smile tugs at the corner of her lips.

“Not really,” he stammers. “I just figured you wouldn’t be interested in immature stuff like this.”

“Hmm. I’m actually having quite a lot of fun. Don’t worry about me and loosen up.”

Jungkook swallows roughly and mentally chides himself for being weird. Even he’s not sure where the pouting spell came from. Regardless, he smothers down the party pooper vibes and tries to enjoy the game as best he can.

Taehyung rolls a 10 and pouts at not be able to get back at Yoori. After all the laughter and the handful of swipes she’d made at his birthmark, he’s eager to pay her back somehow. But all he can do is turn to Hoseok with a bored expression.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare. Do you worst!” Hoseok sits excitedly at the edge of his seat while waiting for Taehyung to come up with a juicy truth or dare.

“Uh, I don’t know, bro. I dare you to do, like, 30 pushups or something.”

“That’s such a shitty dare.”

“I couldn’t think of anything. I was hoping Yoori would roll so I could give her a taste of her own medicine,” he says while locking eyes with Yoori. The two engage in a semi-serious staring competition for a while before they break into laughter.

“This is bullshit,” Hoseok mumbles as he rises from his chair and gets into position to do the pushups.

The room is quiet while everyone waits for him to finish. Sound of his exertion floats over from his section of the circle and you swipe through your twitter feed in the meantime. But you become so engrossed in a recipe for spinach dip that you don’t realize Hoseok has rolled a 2 and is calling out to you.

“What,” you say, distracted by the amount of leafy greens going into the dip.

“Put your phone away,” Hoseok whines, “It’s game night rules.”

You don’t look up from your screen. “Doesn’t count when we’re not playing video games.”

“You suck.”

“So do you.”

“Truth or dare.”

“Dare,” you say on autopilot before realizing the mistake you’ve made.

You let your phone clatter to the ground and prepare to take back what you said, but you can see that its too late from the smirk Hoseok is wearing. It’s the worst kind, too. The smarmy one that lets you know he’s thinking about doing something greasy. You’re willing to bet all the money left in your student account balance that he’s going to dare you to show him your boobs.

“Dare you to kiss Yoori,” he says smugly, like he’s got you cornered.

You’re only slightly surprised and let out a breath of relief. The idea that he might dare you to shed your layers to sit in Taehyung’s freezing living room in just your bra and bottoms was really worrying you.

“Really, Hoseok? What are we, 13?”

Taehyung chimes in with concern. “Yeah. They might not be comfortable with that.”

“I’m fine with it,” Yoori perks up slightly in her seat.

“Okay,” Taehyung hesitates, “But Jungkook—”

“Might not approve of it? Why don’t we ask him,” she supplies before turning to Jungkook. “Kook, what do you think?”

“Well, I—”

“Why the hell would he care,” Hoseok cuts him off. “Dude, you don’t care, right? It’s harmless and its 2018.”

“Y-yeah, I guess.” He pushes his glasses up with his ring finger, a nervous tick you’re familiar with. Your first instinct is to go over and see what’s wrong, but you quell the urge.

“Holy shit,” Hoseok mumbles to himself when he realizes this is really happening. You get up to join Yoori in the love seat she’s occupying. Before you can change your minds he speaks up. “No pecks. It has to be real.”

“Figured as much,” you roll your eyes and gesture for Yoori to scooch closer to you. She sends you a smile that’s hidden from the others by the shiny curtain of her hair. You mirror it back automatically.

“For 60 seconds,” Hoseok shouts. Yoori’s eyes widen at the time condition but she doesn’t say anything.

“That’s too much.”

“30 seconds, but you have to use tongue.”

“Hoseok!” You and Taehyung yell simultaneously.

“Fine,” he says before thinking for a beat. “45 seconds but no lame stuff. Final offer.”

You check in with Yoori to see if she objects, but she merely rests her cheek on your shoulder and gives you a thumbs up.

“Deal, you damn pervert.”

Hoseok scrambles to get his phone timer launched while you and Yoori arrange yourselves accordingly once and then a second time when Hoseok says he can’t see. You whisper an apology on his behalf, but Yoori waves it off and pulls you in with a gentle hand resting at the base of your neck. You can’t help but notice that even from a few inches away, her skin is flawless. Its almost unfair.

“Alright. Start.”

Yoori swoops in and immediately parts your lips with her own. They’re soft and taste like the moscato she’s been drinking, and it’s honestly a very tantalizing sensory experience. You let her take over, let her press you closer until her nose brushes your cheek and she sucks your lip into her mouth. It takes you by surprise and when you gasp softly, she teases the border of your lips with her tongue ever so lightly. You let out an appreciative hum, surprising yourself. She smiles, nearly breaking the kiss, before nipping at you once. Tentatively, you brush your tongue against hers. She surges forward and works over your mouth until the soft chiming of Hoseok’s alarm alerts you that the dare has been completed.

You pull away first with hot cheeks and a slightly swollen mouth. Yoori looks pleased with herself as she looks over your flustered state. Neither of you see any of the guys’ shocked, wistful expressions. Yoori moves to smooth down the flyaways she created when she pressed you into the seat’s upholstery.

“You kiss just like Jungkook,” she laughs before pulling away slightly. The others murmur in the background as they strain to listen in.

“Wait, what?” Her words are slow to register at first. “You guys have kissed?”

“Yeah. Loads of times,” she snickers, “On the way to the restaurant, in the parking lot of Dreamies, in the back of his car. My apartment. We’ve even—” She takes in the mortified look on your face and grimaces. “Oh gosh, I’m sorry. I know you don’t like to hear about this stuff. I’ll stop.”

You make mental note of all the occasions she’s mentioned. One of which was their first date. But just yesterday Jungkook had told you that they hadn’t even started holding hands as a couple. And while he hadn’t made a comment about anything else, the implication behind the statement was that they definitely hadn’t done anything more than that. Something about his more daring behavior struck you as unusual. But if he’d been getting other practice elsewhere, it wouldn’t be odd at all.

He had lied to you. And you wonder what else he’d been lying about.

When you turn around to face Jungkook, he looks pale and scared. You’ve only ever seen him look like that a handful of times and it was when he was in deep shit and it was his own fault. During those times, you’d somehow managed to show him why he was wrong while also making him feel supported. This time, though, there was no way you could do that. Not without throwing away what little dignity you have left from getting into this heinous arrangement in the first place.

Taehyung, Yoori, and Hoseok look on silently as you and Jungkook exchange the long look. Jungkook’s chest rises and falls rapidly as adrenaline runs through his system. When you stand up, he stands up at the same time, a hand instinctively reaching out.

You ignore him in favor of grabbing your things without a word and pulling up the bus schedule app on your phone. You’re not going to force yourself to wait around for an uber to pick you up, but you’re also not going to subject yourself to further torture by walking home in the middle of winter. Once you see that the next bus is coming in 20 minutes, you put on your jacket.

“I’m heading out. I’ll see you guys around.” You wince as your voice cracks a little bit, but don’t bother lingering to see if people noticed. You hurry out with the hopes that you can find a place to hide and wait for the bus before Jungkook can follow you out. He calls your name, softly at first, but you don’t acknowledge him.

But you don’t get any further than a few meters away down Taehyung’s hallway before Jungkook’s catching up after having sprinted out after you.

“Jungkook, stop,” is all you can trust yourself to say as you stare at your shoes.

“I can explain.”

“Fine.” You look up at him, gaze sharp. “Explain.”

He seems taken aback like he didn’t think you’d let him speak. His demeanor turns sheepish. “I didn’t mean to lie to you. It just...happened.”

“Do you think I’m stupid enough to believe that? You made a choice, Jungkook. It didn’t just happen. I want to know why you chose to lie.”

“I just…wasn’t ready for the weekends to stop.”

“Look, I get it. You got used to getting your rocks off. But we had a deal. It shouldn’t have mattered that you didn’t want it to end. As soon as you and Yoori got physical, we were supposed to go back to normal.”

“That’s not why I decided to lie,” he hisses.

“Then why did you?”

“Because!”

“Because?” You scoff. “That’s not an answer.”

“Because I,” he stammers, not sure of what to to say. “I didn’t feel comfortable detailing mine and Yoori’s intimacy to you.”

“You didn’t feel comfortable?” Your voice is carefully low, but raises as you continue. “You didn’t feel comfortable telling me, the girl who has been your best friend since we were kids, about you and your new girlfriend? The girl who you had spit into your palm yesterday so you could jerk off in her bed yesterday? You didn’t feel fucking uncomfortable then, Jungkook!”

“Well, you’re always talking about my comfort. Shouldn’t it matter when I’m uncomfortable? Even if its at a weird time?”

“Fine. Let’s say you were uncomfortable. You still should have told me.”

“Why is it your business?”

Your jaw drops open. “Maybe because yours and Yoori’s relationship is the reason this whole thing started? And maybe because if you’re going to be running between the two of us and swapping bodily fluids, I should know? For my own fucking health?”

He stammers when he realizes that reason never came to mind once. Its a losing argument, he knows. As a last ditch effort, he turns things around.

“Is that the only reason why you’re mad? Because you think I would have given you an STD?”

“Are you serious,” your voice cracks again as tears take hold of you. “You think that’s all I care about?”

“You haven’t made any other points,” Jungkook sniffs like he’s indifferent to your shimmering eyes. “What else am I supposed to think? Is there something else?”

“I can’t believe someone so smart can be so stupid. You really don’t get it? I can’t keep sneaking around with you like this because you’re dating a girl who’s my friend now. But even if she weren’t, I can’t keep doing this because I have feelings—”

The front door opens and Hoseok slides through and closes it softly. He takes in your bowed shoulders, watery eyes, and shaking hands before pinning Jungkook with a glare that’s so potent he steps back a bit.

“You okay,” he nods his chin at you subtly.

“Y-yeah, Hobi. I’m fine. Me and Kook were just talking.”

“Just talking, huh?”

“Hoseok,” Jungkook grits through clenched teeth, anxious for you to continue what you were about to say. “Go back inside. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Oh, I think it does. I mean, she’s my friend and you’ve been screwing her over figuratively and literally for the past month now, haven’t you?”

Your eyes widen and tears of embarrassment slip over your waterline. “You knew?”

“Of fucking course, I knew. You were walking around like you were suddenly getting laid and Kook was showing up to TA sessions with hickies on his neck the week after we made a joke about you taking his V card off his hands. All at the same time that you magically have to start staying over after game night at his place for tutoring,” he spits the word out. “You’re the smartest girl I know. There’s no way you actually have that much to learn from Kook of all people.”

“Oh, come on,” Jungkook drawls and steps in between you and Hosoek. “Don’t pretend to care about her now.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re always picking fights with her. You don’t care what’s going here, you’re just trying to feed the flames.”

“Kook, stop,” you rasp from behind him, but he ignores you and shoves a hand into the center of Hoseok’s chest.

“Say more,” Hoseok smiles darkly, egging him on. The two of them stand inches apart, each one poised to attack the other at a moment’s notice.

“You’ve been itching to see things fall apart for me because you can’t handle being the oldest and the least accomplished in the group.” You try not to gasp but it’s hard because you’ve never heard him say something so nasty to anyone, let alone to someone you would both call a friend. “You’re just mad that your…your indifferent stoner, beta cool guy act hasn’t paid off and you’re still alone with your hand on the weekends. I can tell when someone wants what I have. You’re like every other stupid bully from high school, but with none of the popularity.”

Your mouth drops open, but you can’t find any words to stop the situation from escalating any further. Jungkook smirks at his silence. But Hoseok merely raises a casual eyebrow before turning to look down at you from over Jungkook’s shoulder.

“If you wanted sex that badly, you could have just come to me, you know. Offer still stands now, too.”

Before you can counter anything either of them has said, Jungkook’s fist collides with Hoseok’s jaw. The sound resonates in the empty hallway with a loud crunching sound followed by Hoseok tumbling to the floor and Jungkook yowling in pain at his damaged knuckles. Jungkook automatically turns to you, grimacing and cradling his hand, but you swerve past him to check on Hoseok.

He’s still very much conscious, but the blow took him by surprise and he lost his balance. There’s a little bit of blood when Jungkook’s fist split the skin on the side of Hoseok’s jawline and you can tell already that there will be swelling and bruising. But he should be fine and he doesn’t show any of the signs of concussion that you remember reading about a while ago.

You pull him up by the hand and sling his arm over your shoulder when he stumbles once upright. Together you hobble back into the apartment. Taehyung and Yoori are sitting stiffly at the dining room table when you come in and both rush forward to help you. Jungkook shuffles in after, at a loss for what’s going on.

Wrapping a bag of frozen vegetables from Taehyung’s freezer in a dish towel, you tend to Hoseok’s minor wounds. Taehyung looks tired and frantic as he looks at his friend in pain.

“I don’t get it. What happened out there?”

You hang your head in shame and to avoid both Taehyung and Hoseok’s watchful gazes. Thankfully Hoseok doesn’t say anything, but you’re so embarrassed and disoriented that nothing satisfying comes out.

“They were fighting. And Jungkook punched him.”

“But why would he do that? Hoseok, did you say something?”

“Don’t blame Hobi, he was trying to help me,” you whisper so Yoori can’t hear. You’re not sure you can handle breaking the news to everyone just yet. “Tae, I haven’t been honest with you a while now. Things have been going on between me and Kook and it hasn’t been right. All I can say is that I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t fix anything, but its been eating me up.”

Jungkook watches as Yoori stands off to the side, looking lost and a little out of place as she tries to parse out where the boundaries for her are. She looks between you and him with uncertainty in her eyes before she finally comes over to check in with him first. He waves her off and watches her naturally gravitate towards you.

When Yoori comes asking you what’s happened with worry in her eyes, you look back at Jungkook for a moment before bawling your eyes out in the middle of the kitchen. Yoori envelopes you in a hug immediately, and you let her comfort you despite the fact that you’ve been secretly highjacking her relationship. Sobs wrack your body for a moment before your phone chimes to let you know your bus is coming soon.

You whisper in her ear that you’re sorry and you’ll explain when it’s the right time. You squeeze her soft hands to your cheek and stutter out that you don’t deserve a friend like her, but that you hope you can remedy that sooner rather than later. With that, you whisper a goodbye and head out, giving Jungkook a wide berth.

He turns around just in time for him to catch one last glimpse of you before the door swings shut behind you.

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