#and M is the one who swoops in like a romantic novel love interest to save him

[lord-squiggletits]

The thing about TFA is that I think it’s a pretty good Transformers cartoon, it’s fun and has interesting spins on the usual premises of TF. But I honestly don’t think it’s as deep as a lot of the fandom likes to act as it is.

Like, sure, in the show we have a few glimpses of Cybertron under Autobot rule and get inklings that this isn’t a pure and wholesome society. Except we literally don’t get anything besides that-- glimpses. All of the backstory that actually reveals the ~problematic~ and ~revolutionary~ things of the TFA continuity takes place solely in extra materials. And even if you could convince me that this is a valid way of telling a story (spoilers: NO because I shouldn’t have to buy multiple separate pieces of merchandise, half of which is shown via Word of God/meta texts and not actual story content, to be able to understand a single story), it honestly doesn’t make a difference. None of the extra material that shows the dark/gritty parts of TFA shows up in the cartoon itself.

It doesn’t matter that the flying twins were experimented on while on the verge of death because they sure don’t act like it matters. It doesn’t matter that the Decepticons apparently used to be enslaved as war machines, because the show sure as hell doesn’t give them any deeper characterization than “we’re gonna take over Cybertron because we’re the Decepticons raaaaawwwwrrr!” And it doesn’t even matter that Optimus Prime, one of the main characters of the show, is literally a high-ranking military officer of a regime that brainwashes/experiments on civilians, because as far as the story is concerned his biggest problems are 1. Trying to get his crew to listen to him 2. Fighting Decepticons 3. Putting up with his annoying superiors after he got kicked out of the Elite Guard. (Note that just because he didn’t make it in the Elite Guard doesn’t mean he’s not still important: Prime is one of the highest ranks the military has, and Optimus was given freaking Omega Supreme, a top secret war weapon/artifact, as his ship.)

The story is trying to pose itself as something deeper and more serious, but ultimately fails because those deeper/serious things are barely covered in the show or delegated to side materials.

Am I saying TFA is a terrible show that has no good ideas at all? Am I saying that people who like TFA are dumb and should watch another show? Not at all. I’m just saying that I think the fandom opinions of TFA as a show honestly overhypes it compared to the actual content of the show itself. Forget about the dark and gritty backstory, the vast majority of TFA is spent on human villains and random skirmishes on Earth instead of the actual interesting part, the Autobot/Decepticon war and the state of Cybertron!

If you want a TF continuity that has great lore (and doesn’t require you to watch a cartoon, read a book, find a bunch of old interviews, read a comic, and listen to a script reading at a con), IDW1 and IDW2 are both right there waiting for you. Especially IDW2, which is written as a single continuous story and not as the chaotic decade-and-a-half long mess that is IDW1.

[sehunpeachy]

not interested (m)

⇒pairing: hoseok x reader

⇒genre: enemies to lovers | explicit smut, fluff, angst

⇒length: 20k

⇒summary: nobody has ever succeeded at swooping you off your feet. that is until you become coach assistant for your college’s swim team and maybe then, you learn everybody deserves a chance at love.

a/n: i promise my next fic WONT be a college enemies to lovers au lmao its just so fun to do. i gotta thank @junghaze for being my beta reader and practically saving this fic from the dead i cant be more grateful

Frankly, everybody wanted position for assistant coach. The benefits it reaped went far beyond missing a few periods of class and something to put down on the job resume. Mainly, everybody wanted it for the swim squad that went with it.

Unfortunately, you only made that discovery after you got accepted.

“Hey.”

Your eyes flick up.

“You’re the new assistant coach, right?”

“Oh,” you say with a dreadful realization. That’s the fourth time this hour. “Yeah, I am.”

“Cool.” You could tell this guy was a social butterfly with the way he rolled up a chair to your table so casually, like you were old friends. “Nice to meet you. I’m one of the swimmers on the team.”

Your eyes widen as you watch him, placing your book down. So this guy was part of the infamous swim squad.

And then, you understood all the fuss. He was gorgeous. Hair styled down so effortlessly, a chiseled jaw, warm brown eyes. Even when he smiled up at you, his teeth were so white and aligned, straight out of commercials.

“Don’t mind my hair,” he comments, chuckling and ruffling it around. “It’s probably bleached with so much chlorine at this point.”

“It looks fine,” you say, shrugging your shoulders.

He cocked up an eyebrow, smiling sheepishly. “Really? Does it look as good as yours?”

You don’t know what to say.

You were flustered, but not for the reason he probably wants you to be. You couldn’t believe that guys could flirt so openly like this. And to girls they just met? Please.

“Not quite as good as mine,” you retort, picking your book up again.

He laughs. It’s a nice laugh, slightly taken back albeit, but nice nonetheless.

“What are you reading there?” His fingers hover over, brushing against the backbone of the novel. Your eyes leave the words on the page and fall back into his gaze.

“You always flirt with your assistant coaches?”

You notice his mouth gapes open a little at your comment. Clearly he isn’t used to this type of treatment. “Just the pretty ones,” he replies nonetheless.

You roll your eyes.

“I’ll let you get back to your reading. What should I call you?”

“Y/N.”

“Coach Y/N.”

You chuckle. “And your name?”

“Kim Seokjin, but Jin for you.”

“You should shave your arms, Kim Seokjin. Don’t you know body hair increases drag underwater?”

A pause. “Aye aye.” And with that, Seokjin leaves a little red in the face. You watch him, slightly slump as he walks. Whatever his mission was, it hadn’t worked.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You roll over, shuffling the bed sheets around so you could look at her properly.

“When do swimming practices start?” Yeri asks.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“Shouldn’t you be telling me when swimming practices start?”

You huff, rolling over again so you’re lying on your back and staring up at the ceiling. “I’m so done with all this swimming talk.”

“Why?” You hear her shuffle around in her bed too. “You haven’t even started.”

“Exactly,” you reply. “At least twenty people asked me if I was the new assistant coach, and then another twenty asked me what I did to get the job. One girl even offered her lunch for me to give the job to her.”

“Did you take it?”

“Of course,” you reply. “She has to wake up pretty early tomorrow. 5 am to be exact.”

“Damn,” Yeri mumbles. “I feel bad for the poor girl. I’m sure her classes don’t start till 11.”

“You know, I think you’re right. What a terrible fate. Thank god I gave it over.”

“At least she’ll be surrounded by hot wet guys, right?” Yeri turns over and you look at her. “Too bad she doesn’t ever get flustered by men. Like there’s a clog up her or something.”

“The job isn’t too ogle your eyes at them, you know?”

“Please.” She reaches over to turn on the lamp on her bedside table. Your eyes blink frantically to adjust to the brightness. “I would give up a limb to have your position.”

“You need three years of high school experience as a swimming coach volunteer to get in, not a limb,” you say with pride before rubbing your eyes intensively to simulate darkness. “Can you turn off the light already?”

“I just want you to know the amount of potential you have,” she replies, arm dangling off the side of her bed. “Five wet hotties, constantly fawning for your attention—”

You interrupt her with a laugh. “I think you’ve been watching too many rom-coms.”

“I’m just saying,” she joins in with your laughter, “it’s one thing to look at them, but a whole ‘nother to know and talk to.”

“Not too sure about that,” you groan, “already met one of them.”

“You did?” Yeri shoots up from her bed and it really perplexes you how such a small person could have so much energy this late into the night. “Who?”

You rack your brain for the name. “Seokjin.”

“What? Kim Seokjin?”

“Exactly what I said.” You dismiss her nervous giggles and muffled shrieks at the mention. A hopeless romantic stays hopeless and romantic.

“And?” She eggs on. “Isn’t he gorgeous?”

“Sucks at flirting.”

“He flirted with you?” Yeri falls back on the bed, letting out an exasperated sigh. “You’re so lucky. You know, the swim team stays within the swim team.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means,” she rolls her eyes, “the boyfriend potential is off the roof. It’s a perfect opportunity to finally score.”

You almost scoff. Maybe for anybody else, but not you. You had the natural tendency to push boys away, notably those who sought after you in short-lived chases with bitter endings, because truth be told, none of them ever made you feel an ounce of what you presume love and infatuation was supposed to feel like.

If this was a perfect opportunity to find a boyfriend, you would be the first to miss it.

“Got it,” you say to Yeri just so she could drop the subject and go back to sleep.

“Just give it a chance,” she smiles, her eyes softening. “Please—”

“Okay, okay,” a giggle peeking at your lips. “Now can we go back to sleeping?”

She gives you a big grin, leaning over to switch her lamp off as you roll over to face the wall.

The walk to the swimming pool was a route you had only really taken during the university tour. A week ago, you would have had no absolutely business going down there. The place was far west from the main buildings, almost hidden by the path of twiddling trees and scatter of autumn leaves.

And fuck, were you tired. It was still the early creeks of the morning and the campus was completely empty, as if you were the last person on earth.

“There you are!”

You had met the swim coach just once before, and that was for the job interview. He was a man with great stature with a large voice to match, one that you could practically hear it halfway across campus during afternoon practices.

He was standing by the gym doors, all in his gear; tucked white tee and high waisted black shorts with an obnoxiously orange whistle around his neck.

“Here I am,” you reply. He greets you with a big smile, offering a handshake with even bigger hands.

“Glad to have you join, Miss Y/N. You familiar with this side of campus?”

“Not really,” you say, releasing your grip from his tight one.

“That’s good.” He turns away from you, producing a key from his pant pocket and unlocking the door. “I’ve had multiple—unpleasant encounters with girls trynna sneak in during a practice for the boys, and it’s only the first semester.”

Your face twists at his words. “They can’t be that interesting.”

He smiles again. “Come on in. We’ll get you your own key in a week or so.” He keeps the door at bay, motioning for you to enter through first. “This is the gym, it holds the basketball court, but the place you only need to go through is through there,” he points to a set of doors to your left. “Those lead to the changing rooms, and the pool.”

He leads you through the said doors and into a corridor, completely white, walls tiled with the AC turned up all the way. There was a distinctive smell of chlorine invading your nostrils, one that vaguely surrounded Seokjin the other day. Two doors stand; a boys’ and girls’ changing room.

Coach checks the worn down watch around his wrist. “They should be out here by now.”

You purse your lips, deciding not to say anything.

“I’ll check up on them.” He swings the door to the boys’ changing room open, consequently almost colliding with the boy in front of him. “God Jungkook, watch where you’re going,” Coach grumbles. “The others ready yet?”

Jungkook, this new boy, hesitantly makes his way out from the changing room. “Not yet,” he responds, eyeing at you with curiosity.

Yet again, you understood why this swim team was the talk of the town. Soft chestnut hair framing his thin complexion, big round eyes, a nice built.

Then he smirks. Ugh.

“Hey there,” you say, pushing back the arising feelings of displeasure. “I’m Y/N, the new assistant coach.”

“Hey,” he slurs. “Jungkook.”

You purse your lips again. “Right.”

Jungkook begins inching closer to you, resting a hand behind his head. “Nobody told me you would be a girl—”

The doors burst open and another boy appears. “Jungkook, did you take my deodorant?”

The first thing you think of when you see this guy was fox. Swift movements, a mischief riddled face. His sharp eyes landed first on Jungkook, then you.

“Oh, hey, you the new coach?” He walks over to drape his arms over Jungkook, who looked a little relieved he had dropped the previous accusation and also a bit annoyed he had just interrupted his flirting session.

“Yeah, I’m—”

“Jin told us about you,” the new boy interrupts. Your eyebrows rise. “He said you were a bi—”

“Uh, Tae,” Jungkook stops him. “Let’s not.”

The boy rolls his head over to look at Jungkook under his arm, snapping his gaze back to you after a few silent seconds. “Right. I’m Taehyung.”

The Coach enters through the doors again, making a loud and grand entrance as he always seemed to do. “Okay, let’s get started.” Two more boys follow behind him, pouring out from behind the large man in front of them.

One of them you instantly recognize as Seokjin. He walks by Taehyung’s side, only noticing you after a few seconds. His eyes widen and then relax, ignoring how Taehyung begins to nudge at his side and sneer into his ear.

You recognize the other boy too, but not right away. You were sure he was in one of your classes, but you couldn’t place which one. He stands by the Coach, placing his elbow on his shoulder, struggling a little because of the height difference.

“Don’t mind him, Y/N,” Taehyung says, looking at you with his head tilted to the side. “Jimin wants to seem taller for you.”

“You rascal,” Jimin hisses, dropping his elbow and jabbing at Seokjin’s ribcage when he laughs.

“Guys, this is Y/N,” Coach says, gesturing to you. You had been silently standing and observing all the different saturated personalities in the room, so the emphasize of your presence had caught you a bit off guard. “She’s our new assistant coach. Anyways, let’s just get started, we wasted the lesson already.”

“Hoseok isn’t here,” Jimin says.

“Snitch,” Jungkook whispers under his breath.

Coach rubs his forehead. “We don’t have time—”

Everybody’s attention is suddenly diverted as the pool doors are swung open. Hoseok, as you presume, rests against the door frame, completely out of breath as if he ran all the way here.

“Coach—”

“Get changed, Jung!” Coach yells, throwing up a hand in exasperation. Hoseok nods once, jogging past the rest of the team and into the changing rooms. His exit is just as abrupt as his entrance and you don’t think much of it.

“Guess who’s doing extra laps,” Jimin whispers.

“Let’s go!” Coach exclaims, astonished that nobody was moving a muscle. The team begins to make their way out to the pool, heads hanging low to avoid getting yelled at even more.

You continue standing there, stiff as stick, unsure whether to make conversation or not say anything at all. Coach begins to follow after the boys, looking back and gesturing at you to do the same.

The pool area is vast and its light blue color provides a nice contrast between the darker tiles. You look up to notice the glass ceiling was rounded and exposes the warm sky above, and for whatever reason, you can’t help but to think how nice it would be to be here at night.

The boys line themselves up within their lanes, in position to dive into the waters. Coach blows a whistle and the team push off their feet, powering into the pool. The man turns to you, holding up the whistle around his neck. “You’ll get one of these too.”

You turn back to the pool, watching each swimmer carefully. “So, how many laps are they doing?”

“Four with the front crawl,” he answers over the overwhelming sound of splashing in the echoey room. “Jimin and Jin are doing six. And Hoseok will do eight.”

You frown but the Coach walks away to follow Taehyung’s trail along the pool; considerably in last place compared to the other boys.

“Come on Taehyung!” He yells. “You can go faster than that!”

You hear the doors open behind you and when you look, you see it’s Hoseok, now in his swimming gear. He wears a swimming cap, unlike the rest of the members, and you think his hair looks the softest out of the five of them.

“Let me guess,” he makes his way to you and asks before you could speak. “Six?”

You smile. No unnecessary introduction. “Eight,” you correct and he groans.

“Eight is such an overkill,” Hoseok says, readjusting the cap around his head.

You’re about to make another comment but Hoseok is already walking away, jumping into the pool and beginning his laps. You swallow back your unspoken words awkwardly, looking back at the Coach to distract yourself, now scolding Seokjin for doing a backstroke.

Several minutes pass before he’s by your side again. “I made you a list the team’s routine by the way.” He produces a folded piece of paper from his pockets.

You read; 25m front crawl, 25m back crawl, 10m butterfly.

“Is that it?” You ask, looking up at him. “I mean, this is all I have tell them to do?”

“Essentially,” he answers back. “I’ll handle taking care of them and their abilities individually. For now, just order them around and hopefully they’ll listen.”

You nod, slumping your shoulders since you had imagined the position would be a lot like the one you had at high school that involved more than just barking orders.

Minutes pass and everybody but Hoseok had finished their laps, leisurely hanging on the edge and talking amongst each other. Jimin and Taehyung were closely huddled together, giggling at what the other one says. Seokjin continuously carding his fingers through his hair before joining Jungkook in cheering Hoseok on his last lap.

“Y/N,” Coach says and you turn to him. “Can I trust you to handle them for a while?”

You raise your eyebrows. “Yeah, sure.”

“Just give them the next thing on the list, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod.

Hoseok finishes his lap, now greeted with a round of applause from everybody else. He hangs on the wall, resting his head down on his arms and taking frantic breaths.

“Woo,” Jungkook claps, “go Hoseok.”

“How did you manage to get eight laps?” Seokjin quirks.

Hoseok is too out of breath to answer, rolling his eyes at him instead of responding.

“Coach hates Hoseok, don’t you know?” Taehyung answers for him.

“Hey, Assistant Coach?” Jungkook suddenly says. He’s smirking again. “Care to join us in the water?”

You cock an eyebrow. “No thanks.”

Mocking laughter arises. Jungkook narrows his gaze, splashing water at Seokjin who was laughing a little too loudly.

You smirk. “Kim Seokjin,” you address and he stops to look at you. “Did you shave your arm hair like I told you to?”

Another round of laughter erupts within the group. You feel yourself glowing, liking how Seokjin’s face turns red at your words.

Your eyes swim past their faces and land on Hoseok’s, and it’s so stark that you stop yourself on his gaze.

His eyebrows furrow in a subtle yet distinctive frown, and his stare is free from amusement, instead laced with a hint of darkness glinting in his eyes that seemed to harden as you maintained the eye contact.

Your stomach kicks as you pull away from the gaze. All the pride from embarrassing Seokjin had completely washed away in just mere seconds.

“I’ll get to it, Coach Y/N,” Seokjin replies, not noticing your change in tone and running his fingers through his hair again in attempts to redeem himself.

“Hairy Jin, hairy Jin, hairy Jin” Jimin begins to chant and Taehyung follows enthusiastically.

You gulp nervously. “Uh, let’s get started on—”

“You’re hairier than him!” Jungkook exclaims, pointing at Jimin. Jimin responds with a look of fake shock, which breaks both their characters as they laugh uncontrollably.

“Uh,” you try again over the noise. “Let’s do the—” you look at the paper, “back crawl.”

With a miracle, Jimin hears you. He peers at you with charm, cocking his head to the side and pouting. “But Coach,” he whines, “Hoseok just finished eight laps.”

“You just don’t want to swim, Jimin,” Seokjin accuses.

“Why do we have to swim when Coach isn’t here?” Taehyung asks and Jungkook nods.

“Yeah, let’s just hang out,” Jungkook adds. “Coach Y/N, come in the pool with us, why don’t you?”

You begin to panic, about to open your mouth to say anything to get them to listen to you. Before you can, your eyes catch Hoseok kicking off the wall with a back crawl across the length of the pool without a word.

You’re silent, and so is everybody else. Taehyung turns back to the front, kicking off and following after Hoseok. Then Seokjin, then Jungkook.

“This guy, really,” Jimin mutters before doing the same.

Your shoulders slump down to relax just before the doors open behind you. Lucky timing.

“Wow, they really listened?” Coach asked in disbelief. “You’re good at this.”

You turn your head to him as he pulls up next to you, chuckling nervously. “Yeah.”

Fuck. You were so tired.

You were fully aware you weren’t the one doing laps in the pool at five o’clock in the morning, but the experience was a little mentally exhausting on you. Or rather, Hoseok was a little mentally exhausting.

You had been sure beforehand that you would know how to handle boys like that; scoff, make a retort, do anything but give them the kind of attention they seek out in girls. But that Hoseok guy—he didn’t do even anything to provoke that from you. He just kinda…stared, and that had been enough to intimidate you.

The lecture hall was slowly piling up with more people spilling from the entrance. You took a short nap right before your 11 am classes began, but it wasn’t enough to wipe off the sleepiness off your face.

Among the crowd entering the room, your eyes suddenly catch Jimin’s face.

Ah, so this was the class you had with him.

If you were honest, you wouldn’t have paid Jimin that much attention if he hadn’t been on the team. He was cute, just like the rest of them, but you didn’t find yourself caring too much about cute boys most of the time.

As if he felt your eyes on him, he looks up, erupting into a smile. He jogs up the stairs, sliding down your aisle until he was sat right next to you.

“Miss Y/N,” he greets, placing his head down onto the desk and looking up at you. “I knew I saw you around campus somewhere.”

He scrunches his face, and you concrete that being cute was his ‘thing’. You break the eye contact with him to catch two girls watching the both of you with intent eyes, discreetly pointing towards your direction.

“Hey Jiminie!” One of them musters up the courage to say, waving frantically. Jimin shuts his eyes, taking a deep sigh before lifting up his head and giving her a toothy grin. She squirms in response, scurrying away from his stare with excited squealing.

“You ever get tired of that?” You ask him, judging by his look of exasperation.

“All the time,” he says, sighing as he turns back to you. You notice he’s acting less like a character now, resting his cheek on his hand. “You know, nobody else from the team takes this class, so I’m glad you’re in here with me. I can finally have a seatmate.” A pause. “I guess assistant coach counts as part of the team.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You only sit with the other swimmers?”

He rolls his eyes. “Well, yeah. It’s a conduct of loyalty.”

The swim team stays within the swim team.

“You could make other friends, you know?” You say, flipping your textbook open as the last few people pour in.

Jimin laughs, like it’s a stupid comment. “Why would I? The best people I know are in one club.”

You scrunch your nose. “I’m not sure if that’s cute or just unhealthy.”

“You think I’m cute?” He raises both his eyebrows, leaning in closer.

You retract. “I’m not interested.”

“Neither am I,” he says, going back to his own space. “I just like flirting. Sorry, it’s a habit.”

“I’ve noticed,” you reply, lowering your volume as the professor comes in. “Your whole team seems to do it too.”

“Don’t take it personally,” he whispers. “You’re a nice looking girl, Y/N.”

You narrow your gaze on him, the edge of your mouth turning up at an angle. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Jimin chuckles. A pause. “Don’t take Hoseok personally either.”

You turn your head towards him at the mention.

“He takes swimming a little too seriously. Really, he’s a lot of fun when he’s not in the pool and being a goody-two-shoes. It takes new people a while to learn that.”

You don’t say anything for a while. “He kinda saved my ass today.”

“Yeah,” Jimin rubs the back of his neck, “sorry about that. I’m a real slacker sometimes. It rubs off on the rest of them.” He stares down at the desk.

You can’t help but smile. “Doing 5 am laps three times a week doesn’t sound like a slacker to me,” you say and Jimin looks up. “Just please, don’t let me lose this job.”

Jimin nods before turning to the front of the lecture.

You liked this kid.

You met Yeri on the second day of university, which in retrospective, was pretty worrying considering she was your dorm roommate. You spent the first night at university alone in your room, greeted with rapid knocks on your door at morning come.

The first time you saw Yeri, she was still in last night’s party clothes, her makeup and hair looked like they were dragged through hell, and she was hungover. Even so, she managed a somewhat proper hello before throwing up into your desk trash can.

As you enter the room, she sits up, throwing her phone to the side. “So?”

Your eyes dart around the room.

“How was your first coaching session?”

“Oh,” you say. Right. She had been blowing up your phone since 9 am but you never had the time to reply. “It was fine.”

“Fine?” She intensively watches you place your backpack down by your table and take a seat on your bed. “Be more specific, come on.”

“Well,” you start, “I didn’t really do much, so it was pretty boring. I just told the team what strokes they had to do that day. And when they finished their laps, I would tell them the next stroke.”

“Seriously Y/N.” You laugh. “How were the boys?”

“Well, which one do you want me to start with?”

Her eyes light up. “That Kim Seokjin of yours.”

“Please.” You laugh. “He’s hardly mine. It seemed as if he talked about me to his team members before the lesson,” Yeri leans in closer. “I think he called me a bitch.” Her face falls. “I did kinda reject his attempt at flirting last time.”

“Is he into you?”

You scoff. “I doubt it. He probably wants me to go easy on his number of laps.”

“What about,” she taps her chin, “Kim Taehyung?”

“He seems okay,” you pout, scouting your memory for flashes of him. “Kind of a trouble maker with Jimin.”

“Ugh!” Yeri falls back onto the bed dramatically. You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “Park Jimin, isn’t he the cutest?”

“He’s sweet,” you say and you instantly regret it when Yeri snaps her head at you. “Not what I meant,” you narrow her eyes at her. “Jungkook was by far the worst. I bet he would flirt with a lamp post if he had the chance,” you continue, lying on your back.

“I gotta agree with you on that one,” she says and you raise your eyebrows. “Still cute though.”

“God, I’m so tired,” you say, rubbing a hand over your forehead. You lean over your bed to grab your laptop from your bag. The blue screen greets you mockingly, reminding you of the paper you were supposed to start yesterday. “I have so much work and I haven’t even picked a topic for—”

“What about Jung Hoseok?” Yeri interreupts, her eyes perked up.

“Oh,” your voice falls. “Right.”

A long pause.

“What’s wrong?” She intrudes. “You interested in him?”

“No,” You object, lowering your laptop screen. “He’s just—I don’t know. He was different.”

“Oh?” Yeri smirks. “The good different?”

“The weird different,” you say. “I made a joke, and he was just kinda giving me —a death stare. Okay, not a death stare, but he didn’t really seem to like it.”

She rolls over so she’s on her stomach, rhythmically tapping her feet against the wall behind her. “Yikes.”

“Yeah,” you trail off. “But he was the only person to listen to me when the swimming coach had left for a while. If it weren’t for him, I would have probably lost the job on my first day.”

“Inter-esting,” she says, drumming her fingers on her jaw. “I don’t know much about him, but I do know he’s really serious about the sport. Maybe that’s why you started off a bad note.”

You purse your lips, turning back to your screen. “Maybe.”

“Hey, Taehyung! No splashing!”

By your fourth or fifth lesson, Jungkook was still flirting with you, but it had become a little more endearing each time he did so, like a little brother’s friend who wanted to try a hand at seducing older girls.

“Coach Y/N!” He shouts from his position in the water, shielding himself from Taehyung’s continuous splashes of water despite you telling him to stop a few seconds ago. “When will I get to see you in a swimsuit?”

“Hopefully never,” you say as you smile, raising an eyebrow. He laughs before turning back to Taehyung and skimming the surface of the water to deliver a powerful and precise splash to his face.

Taehyung remains a troublemaker, but now targeting some of the trouble towards you, like splashing water at your shoes and trying to pull you into the pool if you got too close.

You still like teasing Seokjin, but not so upright like you had done your first lesson. He dropped trying to get on your good side when he saw you wouldn’t give him less laps for his behavior, opting to tease you back instead.

And just like Jimin promised, he always followed your orders so you could keep the job, even going as far as keeping the other boys on track for you. Everybody but Hoseok.

Hoseok was always on task anyways, following instruction no matter who was giving it, you or Coach. When he was out of the pool, he seemed like a regular college boy, laughing with his friends and discussing plans for the weekend. But once he was in, he tuned everybody out, like a robot, solely focused on getting in his meters for the day. Frankly, you’ve never meet anybody so serious about swimming practices in all your years.

“Alright,” Coach says after a while. “Out.”

The team simultaneously pull themselves up and out of the pool. You allow the time to stretch your body. The job was boring but easy, and you seemed to be getting more and more used to waking up this early. Not to mention, you were actually making friends with people you’d otherwise never want to talk to.

“Before you go,” Coach says, stopping everybody from going into the changing rooms, “I have some news.”

“News?” Jimin chirps, smiling wide and bouncing a little. “Good news?”

“You decide,” he answers and Jimin frowns. “Mr. Wu, or you might know him better as the basketball coach, had gotten a serious flu this past month, so I’ve been invited to go to the basketball nations in his place.”

“You don’t know anything about basketball though, Coach,” Taehyung says, leaning on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Don’t disrespect your elders like that,” Seokjin scolds. You hold back a laugh.

A pause. “Anyways,” Coach continues, “I’ll be gone for a week. But don’t start crying yet. I have a perfectly good and groomed assistant coach to take over my role.”

Everybody’s eyes fall on you.

“She’s been over our practice routine about a hundred times now, haven’t you?” The Coach looks at you and you realise it’s not a rhetorical question.

“Sure,” you say, not knowing how to respond. You don’t mean for it to be funny but Jungkook breaks out into little giggles.

You turn to him smiling, but you’re stopped when you meet Hoseok’s hard gaze instead. Again.

“I mean,” you say, taking your eyes off of him, “I know what to do. Don’t worry, Coach.” You feel Hoseok’s eyes leave your figure at your words and your body relaxes.

“Right,” Coach says a little hesitantly, noticing your tone change. “Okay, go get changed. Nice work, everybody.”

You watch as the boys begin to leave the vicinity of the pool, going back to their resumed conversations. Hoseok lingers and you notice, so you turn away to face the pool and pretend to fix something on your shirt.

“Hey, Coach?” You hear him say. “Will the pool still be open every day?”

Your eyes focus on a ripple in the gradually calming ways, intently listening his words.

“Not sure. Probably, but you better ask Y/N to check in at the sports department.”

You freeze, deciding it would be weird not to tune into the conversation now. Hoseok’s scrutinizing gaze falls on you again and you tense up.

“You said probably, right?” Hoseok asks again and the pit of your stomach clenches.

“Probably,” Coach repeats. “Don’t see a reason they would close while I’m gone.”

“Okay,” Hoseok says, turning his heel away and back into the changing rooms. “Thanks Coach. Have a safe trip.”

Ouch. Does he really not like you this much?

You ignore it, fiddling with the gym door keys in your left pocket.

“You heard me, right Y/N?” Coach asks and you look up in surprise. “Can you check in and let him know, just in case?”

“Uh,” you scramble for a response, “yeah! Of course.”

Coach nods once. “Hoseok’s pretty dedicated, you probably could already tell that.” You don’t say anything. “He likes swimming early in the morning even when we don’t have practice, but only because I vouched for those free periods to the sports director.”

You nod.

“He might seem a little distant to you,” he continues, “but he’s got a heart of gold. And lots of determination. Don’t let him lose those extra swimming practices.”

“Got it,” you say.

If you had to be honest, you wanted Hoseok to like you. You don’t know why, since you’ve never so actively cared about what some boy thought of you, but you were sure it was because you were a little scared of him. It was hard not to be, with his dark eyes and furrowed eyebrows and cold stares.

One thing you knew for sure, losing those swimming periods on your part would definitely not help the situation.

Another text message goes off.

yeri: ‘Y/N~~~~~~~’

you: ‘Yeri, I’ll be 5 minutes’

yeri: ‘we’re about to order without u though’

you: ‘It’s fine just get me what you’re getting.’

yeri: ‘hurry~~ it’s not as fun without u’

you: ‘Yeri’

yeri: ‘:(‘

you: ‘5 minutes’

You place your phone back into your pocket, ignoring the next buzz that comes in. You told Yeri the night before you wanted to clear out a chore before you join her and her friends for a lunch, and she didn’t take the news too kindly.

The sports department was considerably far away from the actual sport areas. It was in the main building, which was most likely pretty empty during lunch hours, opting the job to be quick and easy.

You swing the door open to the main building but Hoseok stands in the doorway, reaching out for the door handle just as you had moved it.

“Oh, god,” you say, placing a hand over your chest. “You scared me—”

“Sorry,” he interrupts, pushing past you. You watch him as he begins to make his way to the cafeteria, and suddenly something clicks into place.

“Wait!” You shout, striding towards him and stopping hesitantly a few feet away when he turns around. “Uh, what were you doing?”

He squints his eyes in confusion, looking much less intimidating and more lost than anything. “Huh?”

“Were you at the sports department just now?” You rephrase.

“Does it matter?” Hoseok asks.

“Well, yes,” you say, chewing on your lip in slow frustration, “I was just about to go in there and check those free periods—”

“I’m flattered, but I could do it myself.” Hoseok crooks an eyebrow. “In fact, I already did.”

You narrow your eyes. You had been looking at this guy wrong this whole time. He wasn’t scary, or intimidating. He was fucking annoying.

“Listen,” you grit your teeth, stopping him in his tracks as he begins walking away again. “I’m really not sure what I did to you, but I’m trying to fix it right now and you’re not helping.”

He frowns, contemplating over your words. “I’m really not understanding. Fix what?”

“I don’t know,” you exclaim, “you tell me!”            

Hoseok frowns. “Women are so confusing.”

You’re breathless, holding vicious words hostage on your tongue. “Just—tell me why you hate me so much. Then we can move on.”

“Hate you? I don’t hate you.” He pauses. “You’re just not very—serious about anything.”

Your face twists. “Serious? How am I not serious? I’m trying my best—”

“Okay, listen,” he stops you. “I’m sorry if you feel that way, but I’m not really looking for a relationship right now. Sorry.”

Never before has anybody stolen the breath out of your lungs so abruptly. You can’t help but gape your mouth like a fish out of water. Your eyes are fixated on his face, which begins to grow awkward as silent seconds tick by.

“…What?” You hiss.

His face softens. “Sorry, I’m not interested in—”

“What makes you think I’m interested in you?” You burst.

He’s taken aback, and it shows in his expression. But just as soon as it comes, it leaves, replaced with a slight furrow in his eyebrows. “That’s not a very mature way to deal with rejection—”

“Rejection?” You throw your hands up, aghast at how delusional one person can be. “I don’t want to date you!”

“Well, you’re in luck then, right?” He says with feigned innocence.

“You—”

Before you can finish your sentence, your phone starts ringing. The air becomes tense, filled with your ringtone instead of words. Hoseok stares at you, then your pocket, then back to you.

“You should answer your phone,” he says, practically rooting his feet into the ground with the way he stands so still.

Your mouth gapes open, reaching for your phone with caution, watching him vigorously.

“…Yes?” You ask as you answer the call, never leaving his gaze.

“Y/N, you done yet?” Yeri’s voice comes through the speaker.

“Yeah,” you say, frowning at Hoseok and hardening your words. “I’m done. Be there in a few.” He continues standing there, staring right back, his face unmoving.

“Okay, hurry up so we can start eat—”

You hang up before she could finish her sentence. “I need to go.”

“Be my guest,” he replies with a smirk.

“I will.” You push past him, making your way as far away as possible from him.

Pft. Interested in him? Had you ever shown any signs you were interested? None at all. God, he was so delusional. So self-absorbed. So far up his own ass.

It’s hard to think about anything else as you bite into your cheese sandwich, the conversation on the table drifting in and out of your consciousness. Not only did he waste your time, but he ruined your lunch too.

Jimin slides in the seat next to you, right before the lecture. “You okay?”

You turn in surprise. “Yeah, why?”

“Hoseok said you were upset yesterday.”

The grip around your pen hardens. “Did he? What else did he say?”

Jimin’s round eyes widen. “He wouldn’t say anything else. Well, besides not to get on your bad side, because it’s not a ‘pretty side’ to be on.”

You take a deep breath. “This guy—”

“Y/N,” he interrupts as the lecture begins. “I told you not to take him seriously. Whatever he did, it’s probably not personal.”

The two of you grow silent.

“I’ll tell you what he did,” you whisper. “He turned me down, as if I was in love with him, or something.”

Jimin looks at you through half lidded eyes. “I’m sorry. That must suck—”

“I’m not in love with him!” You hiss. “Does everybody think that?”

Jimin pauses. “You do treat him differently.”

“That doesn’t mean—” You stop yourself. There wasn’t any point trying to convince anybody of something that was so blatant to you. “Never mind.”

“Whatever is going on,” Jimin begins to say, “you should sort it out. Before Coach comes back from his trip. You really don’t want to get on his bad side. Trust me, I’ve been on that side far too many times for my preferences.”

You turn to him and smile timidly. “I’ll try.”

“So, newly improved and cuter Coach,” Jungkook starts, running his fingers through his wet hair, “what mission do you want us subordinates to complete on your first day as leader?”

“Ew,” Taehyung says, “keep your kinks to yourself.”

Seokjin makes a face. “Why do you have to make everything sexual?”

Your eyes scan over the awaiting faces, but you purposefully miss Hoseok’s. His head was resting against the pool edge, his swimming cap pulled over his head that he cocked to the side with faked interest. Without even looking, you can feel his eyes dig into you, as if trying to find a way to crawl under your skin.

“Laps,” you answer before the resounding groaning begins.

“Y/N,” Jimin thrashes his body around dramatically, “you’re so boring.”

“Can’t we play a game?” Taehyung chimes in. You pick up the whistle from around your neck and fiddle with it, a wordless response of a ‘no’.

“Four laps, back crawl,” you announce. “Ready?”

“Coach,” Hoseok interrupts and everybody’s head spins towards him, leaving their position to start swimming, “I have a question.”

You don’t say anything, feeling your head get light at the situation. Instead, you continue standing there, tucking your lower lip into your teeth and stomping your foot erratically.

The edges of Hoseok’s mouth tugs. “Why back crawl first?”

“Because,” you say through the grit of your teeth, “I said so.”

“But the front crawl usually comes first,” he continues with amusement etched into his face. God, did you want to knock it out of him. “Front crawl, then back crawl.”

“Good point, Mr. Jung,” Taehyung joins in on the game, further fueling the pent up anger boiling in your insides. “It makes sense to start with front, and then back.”

“Can we just start swimming?” Jimin asks with exasperation, readying to push off the wall again. Taehyung follows, dropping the act almost immediately. But Hoseok goes on.

“You know, Coach,” he cheeses, “if you mess up the order of our laps, it could really mess with our routine, and then it’d be your fault if we lose at nationals—”

You blow the whistle, looking straight ahead at the end point of the pool rather at any of them. From your peripheral vision, you watch them scramble to kick off the wall, caught off guard and starting their laps off beat with the time you blew your whistle.

Then your eyes land on him. Stationary. Grinning.

You blow it again.

“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” Hoseok says, holding his arms out across the pool edge as if to beckon you closer to him. You stand guard.

Another blow. The other boys pause their back crawl to observe the situation.

“Back crawl,” you grit, building up your voice to sound louder than usual.

“I’ll only start my lap if you come closer.” His finger crooks towards you, smiling.

Keep calm, keep calm. Don’t do anything irrational.

You wistfully close your eyes for a second, breathing in a deep sigh before making your way closer towards him, stopping a few feet away.

“Oh come on,” Hoseok says and you feel your fists clench. “That’s not close enough.”

“I’m not playing this game,” you mutter. “If you don’t want to swim, don’t.”

“That’s no fun!” He exclaims. “I just wanted to ask you a question.”

You bite your lip, locking in all the cruel words you wanted to spill on your tongue.

“Is that whistle the only thing you blow?”

You blow your whistle. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Everybody’s heads look up, pausing in the midst of their laps, before beginning to swim back the pool edge.

“What happened?” Jimin asks as he nears.

“Everybody get out,” you command. “Except but you,” your eyes narrow in on him.

With hesitation and confusion, they follow your words, climbing out of the waters and forming a line at your side. Your eyes fall back down to Hoseok. Still smirking.

“Front crawl, sixteen laps.”                                              

“…What?” His mouth gapes open, like a fish out of water.

“Front crawl, sixteen laps,” you say again.

“Are you crazy—”

“You don’t follow my instructions, you get reported,” you say, holding exceptionally tight onto the whistle cord. “I won’t repeat myself.”

Hoseok’s face grows darker once he realizes there was no way out of this. And now the smirk on his face that loves to taunt you with drops, his eyes no longer dance with the prideful mischief he brings onto you.

You blow the whistle. He sends you one last look before kicking off the wall and starting the first lap. You look attentively, watching him slowly make his way to the other side of the pool to maintain his energy. As he kicks against the wall, your eyes meet his briefly. This time, your eyes darken.

“Uh,” Jimin’s voice mumbles behind you, as if he was tiptoeing a dangerous line, “Coach?”

You turn away from Hoseok, meeting their horror drenched faces.

“Don’t you think—” Jimin pauses as your eyes harden, “sixteen is a bit—too much?”

Your eyebrows raise. “I think that’s perfectly reasonable.”

“Um, what are we supposed to do?” Taehyung asks carefully.

“Watch,” you respond, a preview of a growing smile on your features before you turn back.

Hoseok is on his third lap, still managing to preserve his energy, but you know it won’t last long. No, you’re glad it won’t last long. You want him exhausted, in pain, his expression begging for you to let him stop.

“She has too much power now,” you hear Jungkook whisper.

“She’ll be a tyrant in no time,” Taehyung whispers back.

“She might be worse than Coach,” Jimin adds, “and that’s saying something.”

“Just be glad you’re not him,” Seokjin mumbles.

Hoseok stops on his eighth lap, hanging on the pool edge and chasing desperately for breath in his lungs.

“No slacking,” you hiss.

“Just give him some time to breathe, Coach,” Jungkook interludes.

You ignore him, blowing the whistle. Hoseok struggles to move, panting.

“I said—no—slacking.” You’re about to blow the whistle again when you feel a hand wrap around your wrist.

“Y/N,” Seokjin says, dropping his grip around you, “let’s stop now.”

You take quick short breathes, completely unaware of how winded you had been feeling. The furious heat that had settled in your stomach was losing its warmth, quickly replaced with cold ice as the situation sinks in.

“Okay.” You try to say with the last bit of authority you could muster but you fail.

With that, Hoseok sighs with relief before attempting to pull himself out. Seokjin rushes to his side to help him.

“Well that was interesting,” Taehyung mutters under his breath. “Is that all for today, Coach?” He asks a bit louder.

You wipe your forehead, clenching your teeth uncomfortably. “Yeah.”

“Great,” Taehyung responds, throwing an arm over Jimin. “I barely finished one lap today,” he mumbles to him.

“Same here,” Jimin replies as the two walk towards the changing rooms.

Jungkook gives his water bottle to Hoseok, whom was leaning against Seokjin. Hoseok takes it, downing it and fervently trying to regain a stable breathing pattern.

“Well, uh,” Seokjin starts, “see you next practice, Coach.” He slings an arm over Hoseok, helping him walk back. Jungkook follows, offering water to him again eagerly.

You bite the inside of your cheek, embarrassment quickly washing over you over as you recount how you had acted.

“Dude,” you hear Seokjin hiss, “what did you even do?”

“Nothing—to des—erve—sixteen—laps,” Hoseok pants back, throwing a look over his shoulder and meeting yours eyes. “Maybe—just twelve.” A smirk.

You walk to today’s practice with a different mindset. You wanted to make it up to everybody, with the exception of maybe one person.

Who you were last week was definitely not you. Anger had clouded your reasoning and it took a toll on all the other boys. Maybe Hoseok deserved it, maybe not. But you no longer wanted whatever he throws at you to get the best of you.

When the team exits the changing rooms and pours into the corridor, their heads hang low to avoid the possible wrath residing within from you. You notice Hoseok’s absence, which you were glad for because it allowed you to talk freely.

“Hey guys,” you say sheepishly.

“Good morning, beautiful Coach!” Seokjin chirps. “I hope you’re doing well on this fine day, but not as fine as you!”

You cock your head to the side. “I’m not giving anybody sixteen laps, don’t worry.”

Jungkook’s shoulders slouch. “She’s giving us twenty.”

“No,” you say quickly. “Look, I’m really sorry about last practice. I was just very—emotional, and I wasted a swimming lesson on you guys.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” Taehyung mutters.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Jimin says and you smile, “we forgive your tyranny.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook pipes up.

“Just please don’t make us do laps again,” Taehyung pleads. “It’s so boring.”

“I won’t make you do laps,” you reply and everybody lights up. “We’re gonna play water volleyball.”

The boys begin to cheer, slapping each other on the back.

“This is great,” Seokjin says, “I have experience in volleyball.”

“And it’ll be even more embarrassing when you lose,” Jimin says, reaching his arm to sling over Seokjin’s shoulders.

“Where’s Hoseok?” Jungkook asks, looking around.

“It’s fine,” you say, “we’ll have even teams.”

“But he never misses a practice.” Jungkook grows a little more unnerving, his eyes darting around the corridor.

Your eyes catch Jimin’s, sending you an expression of concern. You shake your head at him, ever so discreetly so only he could see it. Not now.

Jimin looks away, turning to Jungkook and placing his hand on his forearm to soothe his nerves. “Jungkook, be on my team.”

“Hey,” Taehyung interrupts, watching the scene. “I wanted Jungkook.”

“Well experienced and volleyball prodigy, unwanted by anybody,” Seokjin mumbles to himself.

“Maybe you should be doing volleyball instead of swimming,” you tease and Seokjin rolls his eyes.

The doors open behind you. You don’t need to turn to know who it is as Jungkook lets out a sigh of relief.

“Hoseok!” He exclaims with glee.

“Sorry,” Hoseok says. “I slept in.”

“We’re playing water volleyball,” Taehyung says with dripping excitement.

You turn your head slightly. “Go change. I’ll get the equipment.”

“Do you need help, Y/N?” Jimin asks, most likely opting an opportunity to talk to you alone and lecture you again about ‘sorting it out’.

“I’ll do it,” Hoseok interrupts, dropping his bag on the floor.

Ugh. You groan. “I’m fine—”

“Don’t be so prideful,” Hoseok says. “Come on.”

You bite your tongue, not wanting to draw any more attention to the two of you. You begin walking out back into the gym, making sure to always be one step ahead of Hoseok so you would not walk side by side with him.

“Hey,” Hoseok says, jogging to catch up. You walk faster. “Why are you acting so childish?”

You laugh. “Why do you want to get equipment? Are you planning to make out with me or something?”

It’s his turn to laugh. “I just wanted to make sure there were no personal feelings—”

“There are none,” you interrupt, unlocking the door to the gym equipment room. “There are no feelings,” you push your body against it with excessive force, “at all actually.”

Hoseok continues standing in front of the opened door. “I really don’t get why you’re so angry. If you were never interested in me, then you don’t have to keep acting like this.” He pauses, resting a hand against the nape of his neck. “And about last practice, I was just messing around. I didn’t mean to do any real damage.”

You pause, a volleyball in your hands, remembering the promise you had made yourself. Don’t let it get the best of you. You’re not this childish, and you won’t lower yourself for some guy.

You turn back to face him. “You’re right, I’m sorry—”

Hoseok moves quick, forcing you to back up right against the wall. He slams a fist by your head, making you let out a noise of surprise and drop the ball from your hands.

Silence. Nothing but your harsh breathing.

“…What are you doing?” You finally muster up.

He pushes his hand off the wall, smirking. “I just wanted to test something.”

Hoseok walks past you, picking up the net nonchalantly. You can’t find it in you to move, and you hate it. All you could do was stand there, wide eyed with a racing heart, like an idiot.

“Let’s get going, Coach,” Hoseok says, passing through the door and looking at you over his shoulder. “We have a game.”

Then he leaves, letting you bask in the silence. You raise a hand to rest on your cheek, feeling the immense heat giving off.

Shit.

You blow the whistle and the ball is thrown. Jungkook is cheering enthusiastically, opting out of the first game for Hoseok’s sake. He sits on the pool edge, between the net, his calves dipping into the water. You walk up behind him and ruffle his hair.

“Y/N,” he turns to you and you remove your hand, peering down at him curiously, “you need to seriously swim with us one day.”

You smile. “Maybe. I don’t swim.”

“You can’t?” He asks.

“I’m not very good, like you guys,” you correct. The ball goes out of the court and you go to retrieve it.

“Our ball!” Taehyung yells.

“He’s lying!” Jimin yells back. You really should have been paying attention.

“Shut up!” Seokjin exclaims. “Y/N, it’s ours! I swear.”

You giggle. “I don’t know who to trust,” you say, tapping your chin. “Seokjin seems tempting—”

“It’s ours,” Hoseok states. Your eyes flick to his, all traces of amusement dissipating from your features. You throw it at him, looking away before it even gets to him and blowing the whistle again.

You watch the match intently. Hoseok throws the ball over the net, and Seokjin gets ahold of it, passing it to Taehyung, who attempts a slam dunk on the other net, but Jimin saves before it could touch the water.

“Jiminie!” Jungkook yells. “Nice!”

“Thanks!” Jimin shouts in the midst of the chaos, passing the ball to Hoseok. Hoseok bounces the ball once on his clenched fist before jumping up and delivering a clean cut spike.

“Yeah Hoseok!” Jimin cheers.

“Oh come on!” Taehyung exclaims. “Coach! He bounced!”

“The rule is one bounce, Taehyung!” Jimin argues. He spins over to you. “Right, Coach?”

You flick your eyes to Hoseok. He’s staring at you, completely blank. Then the edge of his lip tugs upwards into one loathing smirk.

“No point!” You announce in spite.

“What?” Jimin shouts. “You said one bounce!”

“I don’t recall such a thing,” you say. “Ball to Team—uh—”

“Team Handsome!” Seokjin tells you, swimming over to give Taehyung a high five.

“Oh come on!” Jimin exclaims, thrashing his body around in the water.

Jungkook turns around to look at you. “You said one bounce.”

“I don’t remember,” you lie again.

“Did you forget because it was on Hoseok?” He says, a little more quietly now.

Your mouth forms a straight line. “No.”

“You guys would be good together, you know, if you didn’t hate him,” Jungkook comments, looking away back to the pool and you continue staring at the back of his head in shock. “My turn!”

“Take my place, Jungkook,” Taehyung says, swimming over to the edge. “I’m too tired.”

Jungkook contemplates the offer, shrugging his shoulders before swinging his feet over the other side of the net and jumping in.

“Hey!” Jimin shouts. “You can’t take our teammate! Jungkook come back—”

“I just did,” Taehyung retorts. “Help me up Coach.”

“You really need to improve your stamina, Taehyung,” you say as you take his outstretched hand.

Then you’re being pulled in.

The cold water is like whiplash to your unsuspecting body. Your mind is in a whirlwind, unable to do anything but thrash around helplessly. You pull up for air, frantically taking oxygen into your lungs but you keep your eyes screwed shut.

Hands grab at your waist, pulling you up and against the wall. Your eyes fly open.

Hoseok’s face is only inches away from yours. You feel his quick breathing against your lips and his piercing gaze digging into yours. From the corner of your eyes, you can see water droplets drip down from his hair strands and onto his forehead. His hands are still on your waist, gripping tight and slowly slithering to ride your shirt up, feeling the bare expanse of your hips on his fingertips.

Hoseok had you caged, again. He seems to realise too, breaking out into another smirk.

“Get off!” You snap back to your senses, pushing him off with all the force in your body. “I can fucking swim, you ass!”

You pull yourself up and out of the pool, everything done with harsh, rage fueled movements. Everybody’s looking at you in silence. They had been, for the past ten seconds since you were pulled in. But it didn’t feel like ten seconds; it felt like time had completely slowed.

You meet Hoseok’s wide eyes again, like you always seem to do. You feel red fury scratch at your insides and the walls of your throat. This fucking guy—

“Y/N,” Taehyung begins to say. He pulled himself out the pool too, reaching out again. “I’m sorry—”

“You know what?” You snap. “Finish the game yourself. You know where the equipment room is.”

You begin walking away, ringing your hair from the water and fixing your clothing.

You were absolutely freezing, and the autumn season weather wasn’t helping. A cold shiver runs through your body as you enter the gym, holding your arms close together and walking gingerly.

Even so, all you could think about was Hoseok.

Motherfucker.

“Y/N!” Yeri sits up from her bed. “What happened? Why are you soaking?” She gets up, placing a hand over your shoulders and looking behind at the trail of wet footsteps you left in your wake.

“Jung Hoseok,” you grumble.

“What? He pushed you into the pool?” She asks, searching her bag of toiletries for a towel and draping it over your figure.

“He might as well have.”

“Huh?” Yeri twists her face in confusion. “Let’s get you a new change of clothes.”

You sit down, droplets running down your face and your clothes sticking to your skin like glue. God, and why could you not stop thinking about how his hands had gripped your sides as if he was the only thing that could stop you from drowning? Or how dark his eyes got, and not in the way they ever did before, but so much deeper and sharper, like it could hold oceans within them.

“You’re gonna get a fever.” Yeri says, putting her hand on your forehead. “Your face is so warm.”

She hands you a tee and pair of shorts. “Thanks,” you mumble.

You wake up at 5 am, and in hindsight, you should have just gone right back to bed.

Your damp hair and bedsheets had dried from yesterday but your head was still dizzy. It hadn’t stopped violently pounding since—well—yesterday.

You didn’t even want to think about it because every time your mind wandered to those few seconds against the pool wall and caged by his arms, you could feel your face burn up with a furious heat. Even now, as you sit in your bed at the crack of dawn pouring into your windows, your cheeks feel hot.

And now that you’ve started thinking about it, you can’t stop. You fall back on your bed, rubbing harsh circles on your face, hoping it could calm the arising nerves and when it doesn’t, you throw the sheets off your body and slip on a pair of shoes, because after all, you did leave your keys back in the pool.

The keys were still in the lock when you arrive through the pool corridors, to your relief. You let out a content sigh at the sight but it’s short lived when you see the door wasn’t locked as you had hoped it was.

Your fingers reach out to turn the key, but right as you do, you hear the noise of splashing beyond the door. Your stomach twists uncomfortably, suddenly acute of the idea that somebody was using the pool without permission and if anybody found out, you would get fired. Your fingers move up from the key to instead turn at the handle and peak into the room.

Your eyes first land on the figure in the water. They were doing a laps to the other end of the pool, and you’re glad because they couldn’t see you.

You stick your head out a little further to watch the figure and it sinks in ever so slowly that this is Hoseok. You didn’t need to recognize his swimming cap going up and under the water to tell it was him, or by the sight of his towel hanging up on the wall.

It was the way he moved.

Everybody on the team was a good swimmer, but it was hard to compare them with Hoseok’s ability, and no matter how much he had scared or aggravated you, it was impossible not to take your eyes off of him when he swam.

He swam like a dolphin, swift and clean, cutting through the ripples like he was moving through air and not water with arms that powered against the surface of the water and legs that pushed off with carefully crafted agility. It was mesmerizing, and you couldn’t fathom investing so much time and effort into anything in your life as much as Hoseok did to swimming.

Maybe you first noticed it when you made him do those laps, or maybe it was now, 5 in the morning and in your pajamas, your head sticking out of the door and your heart pounding in your chest. You want to move, leave and take the keys before he notices you, but your eyes stayed glued on Hoseok and the way he reaches the edge of the pool and kicks off against the wall to finish another lap.

You watch him, almost absent-mindly as you relive the feeling of his body closely against yours, his breath hitting the surface of your lips, the smirk he engrained on his face right before you pushed him off.

You pull yourself further away from the open seam of the door as he reaches the pool edge again, but you can hear him take deep takes of air to recollect his breathing. You listen intently, trying to find an opportunity to slip away when he starts another lap. But it never comes.

“Y/N,” his voice sounds out and your heart stops. “I know you’re there.”

Your fingers shake around the door handle but you swing it open to reveal yourself nonetheless. You can feel your blood rush and palpate in your veins but you swallow it back with foolish pride.

“I just needed to get my keys, from—the other day,” you reply and the croak in your voice is undeniable. You hated being like this in front of him, like a lost puppy, but it was hard not to when he keeps catching you off guard like this.

“I took it with me after last lesson so nobody could take them,” he says, his chin resting on his arms. “Figured I would have just brought them with me again today instead of my own in case you were looking for them.”

“Yeah, thanks,” you say, chewing on the side of your cheek. Only the sound of gentle ripples against the pool wall fill the room. You hesitate to step past the doorway, choosing to stay at bay and at a safe distance. “Well,” you start, your stomach twisting at how uncomfortable the situation was, “can you, you know—get out of the pool so I can lock up?”

“You sure you don’t want to swim with me?” He smiles.

You hold back a groan. “Okay, then lock up yourself and give me the key when you can—”

“Wait, wait Y/N,” Hoseok says as you begin to turn away. He pulls himself out of the water so he sits on the edge, dipping his feet in. You stop in your tracks, your eyes fixed on the ground by him. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Is there any other way to interpret that?” You raise an eyebrow and he laughs in response.

“Can we talk?” He asks carefully. “Just for a minute?”

“Shoot.” You say, shifting your weight to the other leg.

He looks at you perplexed, almost a bit exasperated. “Come in first. I promise I won’t pull you into the water like Taehyung.”

You sigh softly, giving into his antics by letting the door close behind you and inching towards the pool. “Yeah, you’ll probably trap me against another wall,” you mumble but even your own words create unease for you.

Hoseok smiles, his mouth lopsided. “That’s kind of what I wanted to talk about.” He leans back, his palms resting on the tiled floor. He pauses before speaking again. “You seemed pretty angry yesterday.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Did I? What gave it away?”

He grins. “You’re feisty today.”

You clench your fists. “Is that all you wanted to say to me, or can I go?”

He breaks eye contact with you, turning to face the pool again. “No,” he sighs. “Sorry, I just get—carried away when it comes to you.”

You bit down on your lip, unsure of what he meant by that and hoping he wasn’t entailing what you thought he was. You stare at the back of his head, now titled to the side and looking downwards in front of him. You wish you wanted to leave now, but you didn’t. God, did you wish you did though.

You walk closer, slipping off your shoes and taking a seat on the edge of the pool like him, a few feet away. He’s surprised, turning to look at you with an expression of shock. You ignore it, instead focusing on swinging your legs up and down in the water.

“If—” he pauses again, “if you’re really mad, then I’m sorry.”

Your eyebrows raise, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip hard.  His words struck something in you; what were you mad about exactly? Was it really because he caged you in, and in front of everybody too? Or—was it because—he made you—feel something you just didn’t want to feel?

“I’m not mad,” you answer, still refusing to meet his eyes.

“Really?” He asks and you nod slowly. “That’s good to hear.” You hold back a smile. “Does that mean you’re giving me permission to cage you in again?”

You snap your head towards him, a frown framing your face.

He chuckles, throwing his swimming cap off and to the side. “If it means anything, I swam across the length of the pool to save you, so I kinda saved your life when you think about it.”

“For the last time,” you grumble, “I can swim.”

“It didn’t look like it.”

“I was shocked, that’s all.” You look away. “You would be too if somebody just pulled you into the pool.”

“I think I’d remember how to swim no matter how I got in,” he says with a smile as you scoff again. He reaches out, punching your shoulder lightly. “Don’t you think you need to know how to swim if you’re going to be an assistant swimming coach?”

“I—” you stop yourself. “I’m perfectly eligible for this job.”

“How so?”

“I was a swimming coach for three years back in high school,” you respond.

His eyes widen. “Oh?” You nod. “I didn’t know that.”

You chew the inside of your cheek. “Well, now you can stop doubting me.”

“I’ve never doubted you in the first place,” he says, softly now. You don’t meet his eyes and there’s a long pause. “How long were you watching me before I noticed you?”

“Like ten seconds,” you mumble, lying to him and yourself.

“I know that’s not true,” Hoseok grins, “I heard the door open 2 minutes before I said anything.” His grin grows as he watches you get flustered.

“Well, I—” You rack your brain for something to say but it seems like nothing could get you out of this one.

“Did you like watching me?” He asks, smirking.

You hesitate. “Yeah, I did.”

He perks up. “What?”

You break out into a smile against your will. “Do you really have to be surprised because I think you’re good at swimming?”

“So you’re being serious?” Hoseok is cheesing now, inching closer to you. “You’re giving me a compliment?”

You laugh. “I don’t have to like you to compliment you.”

His face falls at your comment and you immediately regret saying it at all. He redeems himself, chuckling awkwardly to cut the tension. “I guess you don’t.”

You watch him through lidded eyes, unable to comprehend how pushing him away now feels so wrong. Maybe because you really didn’t mean that. “I actually think it’s pretty cool that you do these practices every morning,” you say slowly.

He meets your gaze, searching your face for a hint of amusement. “I mean, it doesn’t feel like much nowadays,” he admits, turning away to look straight ahead. “It’s just, kinda part of my everyday routine.”

“Well, this ‘routine’ pays off, you know” you say, incapable of stopping the words flowing out of your mouth now. “I’ve never liked anything in my life so much to dedicate every day to it.”

“Nothing?” He frowns, looking at you.

“Nothing,” you repeat. “Time kind of just—flies by for me.”

“That sucks,” he replies and you can’t help but agree. “I think life should be more like—colorful moments, not black and white and fast like that.”

You smile down at your lap. “It’s been a little more colorful since I joined.” You feel his eyes on you but you can’t bring yourself to look back.

A pause. “From my perspective,” he hitches a leg up and out of the water to rest his elbow on, “everybody deserves something to be passionate about. It’s not great all the time, I mean, it’s really pressuring and you compare yourself to others a lot but—it makes life exciting, worth living for.”

You look up then when he turns his eyes away from you, unable to stop the smile growing on your face.

He turns back to you and you hitch your breath as you look into his eyes. “I think to fix your problem,” he smiles, “you just need to find something you’re passionate about.”

You sniff a laugh. “I can’t just—be passionate about something all of a sudden.”

“Of course you can,” he grins. “Think of it like—falling in love.”

You snap your eyes away. “I don’t—” you trail off but you’re sure it’s enough to give your message across to him. He notices you shrink, pulling further away from him in your insecurities and consequently building that barrier back up between you and him again.

You didn’t know how to fall in love, and you’ve started to think it’s because you didn’t deserve to. You act better than the guys who hit on you and your friends head over heels in love, but really, you’re jealous. Jealous everybody chased for romance, chased for companionship, because everybody seemed to have a chance at love but you.

There were no plans for you in this life; that you weren’t meant to live out your life in colorful moments, but a black and white film.

“That’s okay,” Hoseok says and you look up in shock. “There’s a first time for everything, right?”

The edge of his mouth turns up to form a crooked smile, and never has anything so simple and mundane made your heart race so quickly. When you look at him now, it’s in a different light. He’s not intimidating, or infuriating, or even physically attractive. He was just—beautiful.

He turns back in front of him, pulling his other leg out of the pool and standing up. “We should go now. Maintenance comes around this time.”

You nod, your mouth still gaping and your heart hammering in your chest. He offers a hand to help you up and you take it with shaky hands. It’s a bad idea because you stand up only inches away from his face, his chest almost pressed against yours and hand clutching your own. He seems to notice, taking a step back and letting go of his grasp around you.

“Well,” he rubs the back of his neck, “I need to take a shower before I go.”

You nod. “Right. I’ll take the key with me—if you don’t mind.”

“Take it. It’s yours, after all.”

You chew your lip to suppress the smile. He jogs to retrieve his swimming cap and towel and you wait patiently by the door. He sends you a smile as you both enter through the corridors again.

“You know, Y/N, you could always join me,” he says, returning to his old persona and making you roll your eyes.

After he disappears into the locker rooms, you stand still for just a moment, taking in the way your stomach tightens and your heart flutters, even when he’s no longer around you.

If you could have a chance at love, you would want to take it on Hoseok.

You take a deep breath before pulling open the doors to the swimming pool. He sits on the pool edge, breathing hard and slick with water.

“Y/N,” he turns in surprise and his mouth forms a smile. “You forgot yours keys again?”

You huff a laugh. “No, uh, are you busy?”

Hoseok shakes his head. “I just finished a few laps. What’s up?”

Your heart feels like it’s about to burst. “I just, uh—um—”

Silence. “Go on,” he frowns in amusement, the edges of his mouth tipping upwards.

Why do you have to be so nervous? Just keep it together. There’s nothing to freak out about. Keep cool, keep cool, keep cool—

“You okay?” He’s full on smiling now, standing up to walk closer. You tense up, looking down at the floor instead of him, only judging the closing-in distance between you two by the sounds of his wet feet padding across the tiles.

“I, uhm,” is all you can say. He leans down so your eyes meet his. It catches you off guard, but most of all, it sets off all the butterflies in your stomach again after you thought you had calmed them down.

“What did you need from me?” Hoseok asks. He was so close now that you could smell the chlorine on his body, you could see the droplets running down his skin and how they catch the blue swimming pool lights. You walk backwards in response, your nerves on hot red fire and you wanting nothing more to undo the whole situation. But all at once, there’s nowhere you’d rather be than here with him.

“You, uh, you left your—” you continue walking back and he continues following, “soap.”

“My soap?” He chuckles.

“Your soap,” you repeat. Your back hits the surface of the door and you hiss in pain.

He soundlessly chuckles, placing a hand against the door by your head and virtually trapping you in. “We always end up like this, huh?”

“What are you doing?” You whisper.

“What do you want me to do?” He mumbles.

“I don’t know,” you respond, your head so light you can’t think straight.

“What were you going to ask me?” He asks but you’re sure he has an idea.

“I don’t know,” you repeat.

“A confession?” Hoseok smirks.

“Confession for what?” You hiss.

“You tell me,” he leans in so his breath hovers over the shell of your ear.

“Why are you always caging me in?” You ask, your eyes wistfully closing to focus in on your senses and indulge in the little contact he gives you.

He stares at you for a few seconds, and then pushes himself off the wall. “I’m off,” he says, placing his hands up into the air to emphasize his words. “You can leave if you want to.”

You stand there, and had it been absolutely anybody else, you would have. But your feet stay glued to the floor and your palms press up against the wooden door to keep yourself steady.

When you don’t move, his hands reach out for your waist and you jut them out so you can feel his touch sooner. Your throat hitches, and he notices.

“Am I crazy, or do you want me just as much as I want you?” He brings his voice down to a whisper, closing in on the distance between your bodies.

“You’re crazy,” you mumble.

“Then why didn’t you leave just now?” You feel his lips brush over your ears and you shiver against him, his wet exposed chest now tightly pressed against yours.

He connects his mouth to the back of your ear, slowly moving against the skin and skimming the surface with his lips.

“Mmm,” you let out, squirming and clenching your core, forgetting to answer his question. His fingers tighten around your hip.

“You’re so cute,” he groans, settling his parted lips against the juxtaposition of your shoulder and your neck, staining it with saliva.

Your hands grab his forearm for support. “Hoseok—”

“Is that not vulgar enough for you?” He props his head up, resting his cheek against yours. “You’re so fucking hot.”

You groan at his words. The swim shorts he had on did little to hide his growing bulge. “Ah, ah,” you squirm as he begins rubbing against your thigh, the tip brushing against your centre.

“Fuck, baby girl,” he whispers. “Can I touch you?”

You nod, letting out a gasp and moving in time with him.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he groans.

Hoseok reaches down to cup your centre through your shorts.

“I can’t stop thinking about feeling you—”

You interrupt his words with another moan. His fingers begin rubbing you, flicking your clit through the thin material.

“Tasting you,” he adds and you squirm. “Feeling those hips move against my face.”

“H-Hos—” You can’t even finish your words as his hand begins moving faster with the intent to take you to the peak.

“God, and being inside you.” He leans back so he can drink in the way your eyes screw shut and your mouth gapes open to moan his name. “I could come in my pants right now at the thought.”

Your hand reaches down to grip his wrist. “Don’t stop, don’t stop—”

“What if I do?” He asks, his fingers ceasing to move and your eyes fly open.

“Please don’t,” you plead, practically melting in his touch, his warm palm still cupping your centre. You were too dizzy, too turned on to even comprehend the power you gave him. But you didn’t care. You loved it. “Please, please, please.”

His fingers move again, now focusing on pleasuring your clit. You lean your head against the wall, exposing your neck to his hungry lips. He starts to suck at your throat and your hands tremble around him. There are too many sensations happening and all of them make explosions go off in your core. You let your tongue hang, imagining the taste of him on your tastebuds; his lips, his neck, his chest, his thighs, his cock.

“Right there,” you groan as his index finger brushes over your clit, creating delicious friction against your constraints, “right there, right there.”

Hoseok lifts his head up from your neck to watch you, a string of saliva connecting his mouth to your skin breaks like rope. “Right there?” He nudges your clit again.

You tremble. “Right there—”

“Come on my hand.”

You do, electricity coursing through your veins and rendering your body immobile. He holds you upright, his hand still rubbing against you until you start to jerk from the sensitivity.

He pats your core, making you jump, the pats growing harsher into slaps. “That’s it, that’s it,” he whispers.

“Hoseok,” you mumble, pushing him off gently. He obliges, disconnecting his palm from you.

“Look what you did to my hand.” He puts his hand closer so you can see. The light reflects off his fingers, sheen and covered in your slick. You smile, taking deep breaths to recover from the high you reached.

Everything hits you at once. You just did this. With Hoseok. You did this—with Hoseok.

“You okay?” He asks, leaning his head down so the tips of your noses are brushing against each other. As he turns his head to the side to peck at your check, the reflection of the pool’s waves gets caught in his warm orbs, creating a whole ocean in his eyes. The light kiss on your face tickles, making you squirm in his touch. In response he rides your shirt up, placing the hand he touched you with against the skin of your hipbone. You feel your come, especially as he pulls it away to rest on the small of your back and the slick sticks to his palm.

“Uh,” your mouth hangs open, too sensitive and still on Cloud 9 to respond. You bite down onto your lip nervously, chewing into the skin for something to occupy your mind with instead of him.

This is too much, too much, too much.

“Wait,” you place your hands on his chest gently. “I can’t continue.”

Hoseok pulls away then, eyes darting around your face. “Oh,” he mumbles as he steps away, “I’m sorry. That was—”

An ugly pause.

“I’ll go,” Hoseok speaks. His eyes don’t meet you. “Maintenance, and all.”

You nod, looking down at the floor. He walks off to retrieve his towel and abandoned swimming cap, both in his hands with a weak grasp.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “I’ll—I’ll stay out of your way—from now on.” You feel your heart jerk in your chest at his words. His eyes land on your face and then fall on the floor in front of you before closing the door behind him.

You stand still for a while, the only noise that surrounds the room is the delicate splash of the water against the pool edge and your quick breathing. As you attempt to move, you feel your arousal between your legs and you’re reminded all over again.

You stutter trying to put the key in the door as you hear the noise of a shower coming from the changing room. You pause in front of it.

God, you couldn’t even say what you wanted to say; that you liked him, that he made your cheeks flush and your heart race, that you wanted him to be what you were going to be passionate about, that you weren’t experienced in love or dating or caring about somebody but you would try it with him.

Instead you said, nothing.

If you get one chance at love in life, you had blown it.

You walk past the changing room door, choosing not to do anything. It was probably the smart decision. But not the best. And definitely not the easiest.

Somebody bumps into your shoulder, hard.

“Hey, watch where you’re going!”

You snap your head towards the voice, a frown etched into your face and your mouth open ready to retaliate. Your expression falls when you see Taehyung staring back at you, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Got you,” he says, leaning closer.

The hallway was clearing out, but that didn’t stop the hardened stares directed at you and the coveted swim team member.

“You’re lucky. I would have knocked you out if you were somebody else,” you say with a small smile.

Taehyung places a hand over his chest. “I’m honored.”

You begin walking and he follows your lead.

“So,” he starts, “this means you’re not mad at me anymore?”

Your response is to frown, because you frankly don’t remember what he thinks you’re supposed to be mad at him about.

It clicks. “Oh,” you say, “the pulling-me-in-the-pool thing?”

His eyes glass over. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you couldn’t swim—”

“Okay,” you stop in your tracks and his eyes widen, “I can swim. And don’t worry, I’m not mad. I completely forgot about it.”

Half a lie.

“Okay.” He sighs. “That’s good. You should have told me sooner. I felt like an asshole for like—four days.”

“Poor you,” you mock, beginning to walk again.

“Listen, I have something else to tell you,” Taehyung says. For a second, your heart misses a beat. Was this about—Hoseok?

Even thinking his name makes your stomach drop. You haven’t seen him since that day, and you’re so unsure of the events had changed things between you and him, if maybe you were wrong and—

“You’re invited to my party this Friday!” Taehyung says, placing his palms up and wiggling his fingers.

“Oh,” you sigh, relief washing over you. “I thought it was gonna be something worthwhile.”

“Hey,” he jabs you in the ribs. “Well, it’s not really a party. It’s just all of us, at the pool, at 10pm.”

You miss a beat, stopping in your tracks. “Us?”

“The swim team, and you,” he specifies. “You better be coming. This will be like—a ritual—a welcoming into our clan.”

You laugh nervously, fending off the nervousness that begins to root in your insides. “Uh, maybe. I’ll check if I’m busy.”

“What?” Taehyung exclaims. “You’re coming! This is like, our only chance while Coach is gone. And plus, you’re the only one with the keys!”

You bounce in your place. “I’ll see—”

“Oh come on—”

“I don’t know.”

He moves his mouth to the side. “Is this about Hoseok?”

Your eyes widen. “What—”

“He’s been worn down for the past few days.” Taehyung lets out a sigh. “I don’t know what happened,” he continues, his face turning serious, “but he should fix it, or you, I don’t know. Like talk it out or whatever.”

You don’t say anything, too taken aback to do so.

“Whatever did happen, it’s taken a toll on his swimming. And I already know you’re involved in it somehow. You’re all he talks about.”

Your eyes fall to the floor.

He stares at you, taking note of how affected you were from his words. “Just come. I promise, it’ll be fun. And it’ll make you both feel better.”

You almost scoff of how unaware Taehyung is of the situation, but you nod nonetheless. “Okay,” you say hesitantly.

“Great!” Taehyung exclaims, taking ahold of your shoulders and shaking you. “Remember, 10pm! Friday! Fun!”

“I’ll try not to forget,” you say a little quietly. He grins, letting go of your shoulders and heading off through the cafeteria doors.

“And bring your swimsuit!” He yells just before the doors close. Your eyes linger before falling back onto the floor in front of you.

Everybody waits by the gym doors, all except for one. As you approach and the sight settles in, a sigh of relief is exhaled from your lungs. The longer you can keep running away, the better.

Taehyung spots you first. “Y/N!”

“Thank God,” Seokjin continues. “I thought we were gonna freeze out here.”

“I should have done that,” you smile, “damn.”

“Y/N,” Jimin whines. “Quick! Open the door already!” He’s jumping his weight from foot to foot, cradling his body with his hands.

You take the gym key out from your pocket, letting it glisten in the moonlight for a show. You allow everybody else to pour in after you after the door is unlocked.

“Ah,” Jimin indulges in the warmth of the room. “So much better.”

“Let’s go inside the pool, come on! I’m tired of dry land,” Seokjin says, already taking off his shirt and slinging to the side.

Jungkook giggles. “You sound like a fish.”

“I am a fish,” he replies with a smirk. “Born inside the wrong body of a human.”

“A blowfish,” Taehyung adds and Jungkook laughs harder.

“And you’re a manatee, Taehyung,” Seokjin mutters.

The gym door’s handles are rattled with and then swung open. Everybody’s heads turn behind them but you can’t bear to do the same.

“Hoseok!” Jungkook’s voice is dripping with excitement.

“Fashionably late as always,” Seokjin says, following with what sounds like a slap to his back.

“I slept in,” Hoseok says. That’s when your eyes meet his and just as quickly, they snap away.

His sunken in, heavy lidded eyes. You heart stumbles in your chest, missing a beat, and you feel the need to hold onto something so you tug at your shirt.

“It’s 10 at night,” Seokjin says, his hand slung over Hoseok’s shoulders, leading him to the pool area, “that excuse doesn’t work.”

“You ever heard of a nap, Jin?” Jimin tails behind.

“Come on, Y/N,” Jungkook beckons and you realise you hadn’t moved since Hoseok had come in. You swallow nervously, making your way gingerly. Taehyung walks by your side, raising an eyebrow at you.

You know exactly what he’s entailing, but you don’t know if you have the strength to do what he’s telling you to do.

“Please, Y/N,” Taehyung whispers when you don’t respond. His eyes flicker to Hoseok ahead of him, and then back to you.

A newfound heaviness settles on your chest, making it difficult to breathe or talk. Taehyung pats your shoulder before jogging and catching up to Jungkook.

The pool area was beautiful at night. The lights had turned on automatically, illuminating the pool and the room with a bright cyan color. Its waves reflected in the roof above, showing off the deep black sky and its painted stars.

“Me first!” Jungkook says, stripping himself from his shirt.

Taehyung dives straight in, performing a crisp cannonball.

“Oh, come on Tae,” Jungkook whines once Taehyung comes up for breath.

The laughter drifts out of your consciousness and becomes white noise once you feel Hoseok’s immense presence behind you. Your breath hitches when you hear him shuffle around to put some distance between you and him. God, this is so awkward.

“Y/N, Hoseok!” Jungkook shouts out in the water, momentarily distracted as Taehyung puts his body weight on his. “Get in!”

You shake your head, stepping away from the pool side, your stomach turning at the thought of being so close to Hoseok again, a painful sting running through your body when you remember how that encounter had ended and how it ruined your only chance with him.

“Y/N,” Jungkook groans when he sees you’re not getting in.

Jin carefully drops himself into the pool. “Hoseok, jump in.”

You turn to the side and tense up when you realise how close the two of you had been standing next to each other. Your gaze meets the floor by his feet to avoid his.

“In a bit,” he responds.

Jimin is the last in the pool, swimming a little faster to catch up to the others who had now migrated more to the centre, leaving you and Hoseok virtually alone.

You walk closer to the edge, your eyes focused ahead of you as you take a seat to dip your calves into the water. You take in a deep breath, bracing yourself for what was to come.

Hoseok takes a seat next to you, just as you knew he would. He gives you some space between you and him, dipping his fingers into the water between his legs.

Heat flows across your face and you could feel your heart in your chest race. It takes everything within you to lift your chin up and turn towards him. Thankfully, his eyes aren’t on you, but your gaze on him doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Hey,” he says.

You swallow. “Hey.”

He looks at you and you wince. “That day—”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” you interrupt.

“I do,” he replies. “I—I was—moving too fast. I shouldn’t have done anything at all.”

You chew the inside of your cheek. “You did nothing wrong. I let you—you know.”

He tilts his head to the side, taking a pause to recollect himself. “You wanted to say something that day, right?” Your cheeks flush with warmth. “That’s why you came again, right?”

You nod slowly.

“Were you going to—” He sighs. “I’m sorry. You probably don’t want to talk about it.”

“No, I just,” you pause, bringing your voice down to a whisper, unable to keep your tone up for much longer. “I don’t know,” you trail off.

He rolls his head around on his shoulders with a sunken expression. “Y/N,” he groans, “I’m sorry it had to go down like that. You deserve way more than—what happened. In some musty pool area against the door. And with a guy like me.”

Your breath halts. “I think you’re—” you hesitate, “a great guy.”

He laughs lightly, peering at you with endearment that sets off fireworks in your insides. “No, I’m really not. You deserve—I don’t know—like rose petal covered bed and candles and shit like that. And not with guys like me.”

“I’d rather have guys like you then roses and candles.” You say it without thinking, letting the words form on your tongue faster than your mind can process it. He snaps his head to you, his eyes soft and swimming around your face to read your expression. “Uh, I mean, uhm” you stammer, unable to come up with a response.

“Listen Y/N,” he swallows, “I—I’m crazy about you. In more ways than one. And I didn’t get to show that—last time, and I’m sorry.”

Your heart has not stop pounding in your chest, but now it feels absent all together.

“I said I would stay out of your way, and I’ll stay true to my word, if you want me to.”

Your lips quiver, and you can’t find it in you to answer. His face falls and he turns to stand up. You grab his wrist, pulling him back. “No,” you stop him, “don’t go.”

His eyes dance around nervously, hesitantly sitting back down.

“I, well I—fuck, I can’t stop mumbling like a fucking idiot,” you hiss, slapping a hand on your forehead and rubbing your eyes, “Hoseok, I don’t know how to say the things I want to say. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

His eyes soften but the grimness doesn’t leave his face. He’s holding his breath, like you are.

“I want to be like you,” you say slowly and at your own pace, “passionate about something. I didn’t have anything to be passionate about, but then, ugh, what I’m trying to say is,” you pause before laughing, “you make me so nervous. I’ve never felt like this.”

He smiles, inching forward. You flinch as he leans over to your face and plants a light kiss on your cheekbone. “You’re really cute, you know that?”

Your eyes widen and your teeth dig into your lips so aggressively they might tear the skin. He pulls himself into the pool, giving you one last look before swimming to the others.

“Hoseok!” Jimin shouts when he nears. “Who can hold their breath longer? Me or Jin?”

“You, of course,” he responds with, earning water to the face.

“Let’s just settle this with a contest. Y/N!” Seokjin turns around, waving you over. “Come over here!”

Everybody turns around to look at you, beckoning you over, but your eyes fall to Hoseok. You lift your shirt up and throw it to the side before pushing yourself off the edge and landing into the pool. You hear excited cheers ahead of you and smile down at your feet as you shuffle closer.

“Quick, quick,” Jimin says before turning back to Seokjin, “you’re going down, brother.”

He laughs, “yeah okay.”

“You’re both wrong,” Taehyung pipes up, running his fingers through is wet strands, “I can hold my breath longer than everybody here.” Jungkook clicks his mouth in annoyance, crossing his arms over his chest. “You got something to say, Kook?”

“Let’s finish this silly arguement,” Seokjin says just as you arrive, “the old fashioned way.” Hoseok stands across from you in the naturally formed circle and you hesitantly lock eyes with him. His eyes are soft, a wisp of a smile on his pink lips.

“Okay! No cheating,” Jimin announces, lifting up his index fingers in urgency, “on the count of three!”

“Let’s go, let’s go!” Jungkook chimes with childlike excitement.

Your gaze doesn’t leave Hoseok’s.

“One!” Jimin counts.

Hoseok’s eyes flicker down, and then back up.

“Two!”

You smile.

“Three!”

Everybody submerges themselves under the water at once, leaving you and Hoseok alone standing.

You stride forward. His arms fold themselves over your body and you lift your hands up to hold the sides of his face gently. His lips are lush, so carefully placed on yours. Your eyes fall shut to focus in on the feeling of kissing somebody, indulging in the feeling of kissing him.

He takes a quick, frantic breath and you swallow it without hesitation like a flash of courage had surged through your body. You feel the vibrations of his groan against your mouth and you pull back.

He looks incredible, more incredible than ever before. Pink tinted cheeks and the petals of his lips were bruised and parted, chasing for air.

This is it. You finally said everything you wanted to say.

God, does it feel so right.

Like a reality check, you suddenly feel the prominent presence of four other boys still submerged in the pool, hopefully unknowing to the situation happening above, but then again, experienced swimmers weren’t opposed to keeping their eyes open underwater.

You turn your back, pulling your body up and out of the water with hasty movements. You look behind to lock eyes with Hoseok, enticing him to follow after you with a subtle grin painting your features. You run, as quickly and safely as you can, out of the pool area and into the corridors.

Hoseok arrives a few seconds after you, dripping with water and chest rapidly moving up and down. He walks toward you, backing you up against the wall and placing his lips on yours again. You grab onto his forearm that clenched as you brushed your fingertips against the skin. The cool AC hits your body and you shiver, now painfully aware of how freezing your body had become within a few seconds.

“Let’s go in here,” Hoseok suggests, pulling you into the girl’s locker room. He reconnects his lips to yours the moment he gets the chance to, making you softly hum into him. Your hands go down to roam the bare expanse of his waist, digging your nails into the hip bone.

You break the kiss to take a few inhales of air, your heart so palpable you could feel it in your chest.

Hoseok tilts his head towards you, his eyebrows furrowing. “Y/N,” he mumbles, “are you sure about—”

“Yes,” you say with the confidence that had been so hard to lift from the ground a few days ago but now rested at the surface of your being. You wanted this, more than anything. You had waited all these years for a guy like Hoseok to finally steal your breath. But now, here he was, flesh and blood, wrapped around you, pink lips, heavy chest, tangible pulse, wanting nothing more than what was on your mind too.

He molds his mouth against you, slowly at first, but his movements quicken their pace and increase the urgency as you tuck your thumbs under the waistband of his swimmer trunks, pulling down enough to reveal a peak of his wet thighs.

He returns the gesture, lifting his grasp on the small of your back to meet the tied up strings of your bikini top and letting it fall to the floor by your feet. You let go of your grasp on his shorts to instinctively cover your exposed chest up, but he stops you, keeping your wrists at bay instead. Then he moves into your body, wrapping his lips around your nipple.

“Ah,” you whimper, grabbing onto his arm for support. His tongue peaks out from the seam of his lips and circles around the bud before sucking lightly. “Ah, oh gosh.”

“Gosh?” He pulls away, smiling. “You’re so goddamn cute.”

You can’t respond as he moves onto your other breast, repeating the treatment and making your nipples harden in the cool air. Another shiver runs through you, and you’re not sure if it’s from the air conditioning or the pleasure.

“You still cold?” He lifts his head up back to your level, saliva coating his lips and chin. You nod weakly, too engulfed in the sensations he’s giving you to find your voice. With that, he grabs your hand, leading you into one of the bathroom showers and closing the door behind you.

He gives you one quick kiss, pressing his palm into your breast and molding it to his liking before pulling away and turning the shower nob on. Cold water spurts onto your bodies, making you yelp and giggle away from the spray. He laughs too, his eyes trained on your face, and as if something switched in him, he pushes you against the wall, making love to your lips and your tongue one more time.

“Hold on,” he whispers as he adjusts the nob again to turn the water’s temperature up. It sprayed your skin more comfortably now, even creating an aura of steam around the small cubicle. He doesn’t waste any more time, roughly pulling your shorts down and throwing them over the door. “Oh, sorry,” his expression turns apologetic when you flinch.

“No,” you say, “I like it.” You close your eyes. “That’s embarrassing.”

“God, no.” He slams your shoulder against the wall, cupping your heat over your swimsuit bottom before slipping his fingers inside the material. “Fuck,” he groans, “you feel better than I’ve ever dreamed of.”

You giggle against his shoulder, and it morphs into a moan once he starts moving, pinching and massaging your clit. His fingers rub against your slit before going back and wetting your clit with your own juices.

“Ah, ah, Hoseok,” you whine and he inserts an index finger into you. Your hips jerk against his hand, your fingers dig into his skin, your cries of pleasure get swallowed up by his mouth. He pumps slowly, curling inwards when they’re knuckle deep.

“You’re so perfect,” he grumbles against your lips, his forehead resting against yours with a sense of weakness. He pulls his hand out, sticking his fingers into his mouth and wrapping his tongue around his digits obscenely for your eyes only. “Fuck you taste so good. Wanna taste?”

You nod and he moves forward, sticking out his tongue that still had reminiscences of your juices on the tip. Your tongue meets halfway, licking up into the muscle and swirling it around to taste yourself. When you finish, he presses his body against yours, sneaking a hand behind to slap your ass.

“Who knew you were so dirty?” He whispers against the shell of your ear. “Or is it just for me?”

“Just you,” you whine back.

“Fuck,” he moans, leaning down to seal his lips on your neck and licking a stripe of saliva on the side. He falls to his knees, pulling your bottom down earnestly. You step out of it urgently and just as you do so, he delivers a stripe of saliva against your lower lips.

“Hoseok!” You groan, your fingers massaging his wet scalp and pushing his strands out of his face so you can see it better as he connects his plush lips to your centre, dipping the tip of his tongue into your wetness. His eyes are fluttered shut, jaw slack, wet droplets running down his pink cheeks.

He moves his muscle in and out, accumulating your juices on his lips and chin. He moves away to latch onto your clit, wet from his previous actions. He sucks hard, flicking it with his tongue from time to time. It was enough to make your knees weak and your heart hammer.

“Ah, Hoseok,” you yelp, jerking your hips and running a hand through your hair, “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come—”

“So quickly?” He teases, his tongue still connected to your clit. “Fuck, I’ll blow my load at the thought of you coming on my tongue. God, you’re so delicious, you’re so fucking good—”

“Hoseok—”

He ignores your warning, sucking hard again before moving his mouth against your slit. You come, riding his face in quick, hurried motions, pulling at his hair and using your other hand to slap at the wall uselessly. You had never felt so much lighter, like you were floating on the highest layer of heaven, and with a sight like the one you had, fuck.

He lodged his tongue against you, collecting every bit he could milk from you, lapping it up and licking you clean. Your body twitches in sensitivity, and he pulls away, leaving a sloppy kiss against your hip.

“Oh baby,” he groans, standing up and kissing the bottom of your jaw, “you’re so fun to eat out. I could do it all day. Fuck, you’re so tasty.”

You feel like you lost your voice, unable to say anything besides what sounds like his name and coos of ‘ah’ and ‘oh’. As he presses himself against you, you feel his length against your thigh, wanting nothing more than his cock on your tongue. You lean down and grab it through his shorts, pumping up and down painfully slow.

His eyes screw shut, chewing his bottom lip to keep his moans concealed. Then he pushes your hand away, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and locking them against the wall by your head.

“Hoseok,” you whine, your tongue wagging out of your mouth.

“Not for your first time,” he mumbles, kissing the side of your nose and taking deep breaths. “For your first time, you deserve to be eaten out and filled up, nothing more.”

You pout and you feel his breath hitch at the sight.

“Fine,” he mumbles, “you can take me out, but that’s it.”

Your lips form a grin and you feel his length twitch against you, adrenaline rushing through your bloodstream at how much you affect him. Your fingers slide underneath his shorts, wrapping themselves around his dick and pumping slowly. He throws his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing frantically with each breath he takes.

With one hand, you pull down his shorts, stroking the revealed skin. He helps you by pulling down the other side, and then he was completely exposed. So immaculately beautiful and sinful, you wanted to feel his whole body on your tongue and leave hickies everywhere in your wake. You rub the pad of your thumb of his tip, running it over his slit and collecting his pre come.

“Y/N,” he whines and he sounds so beaten, so weak, desperate for release. You lift your thumb up to your mouth and envelop it in. His lids fall halfway, teeth trapping his bottom lip so harshly. It releases itself to sound out a deep grunt. “Shit, I want to be in you.”

His hand goes to massage the side of your waist, another to dip into your centre again.

“You’re so wet, fuck, I’m gonna come before I’m even in. Embarrassing right?” He lets out a breathy laugh as he rubs his length along your lips, coating it with your slick and rubbing it against your clit.

You shake your head frantically.

He groans, pushing his head into you. “It won’t take much for you to see that,” he whispers, “with you, I’ll come in seconds.”

Your breath hitches and you feel your cheeks burn up even more. He pushes all the way in until your hips are flush against his. A groan slips out of your lips.

“You okay?” He leans down to peck the side of your mouth.

“Just hold on,” you grunt, shutting your eyes close. The pain is immense with his hilt buried deep into you.

“Let me do a stroke,” he suggests and you nod. He pumps out, and then slowly back in. You clench, holding your breath hostage. “Now?”

“Hurts,” you mumble, “but keep going. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” Hoseok interludes, pumping at a leisure pace, gently. A surge of pain and pleasure shots through your system. “Better?”

“Yes,” you breathe out. He still moves with caution but it’s sped up a little more.

It feels like it’s just you and him in this world, smushed against each other’s bodies in a shower cubicle, his arm holding up your leg to reach further and your moans echoing off the walls.

He looks amazing with his wet hair pushed back and your slick coating his mouth and his eyes lidded with dangerous intent. The room grows warm and musty underneath the hot shower head but you pay no mind, especially as the heat brings rubescent color to his face and his skin feels like fire under your touch.

He feels incredible too now, the initial pain now faded into dreary pleasure you can hardly fathom. He hits a particular spot and you let out a drawn out groan.

“You should be a little quieter, baby,” he grumbles with another hard thrust, “there are people out there, you know? You want them to hear how you sound when you get fucked?”

You squirm uncomfortably, having forgotten the rest of the team was still only a few rooms away and walls are paper thin these days. The thought of anybody but Hoseok right now didn’t seem ideal, but his words lights a burn in the pit of your stomach.

“God, you’re naughty,” he grunts, slowing down his pace to an agitating back-and-forth. “But I don’t want them to know how you sound. Let out those cute moans for me.”

You nod feverishly, leaning forward to connect your mouths together and dance with his tongue. Every touch feels electrified now that you’re so close to your peak; so close you can feel it gather at your throat and savour on your tongue.

“You’re so good, Y/N,” Hoseok says as he rests his forehead against yours, thrusting into you with a newfound urgency that makes you let out nonstop whimpers. “You have no idea. God, I’m so lucky.”

Your heart is racing to the finish line, your pants frantic and your body clenching uncontrollably. If you were to be honest, you had never felt so incredible, and you know it’s far beyond the act of having sex for the first time.

It was him. His sweet dirty talk that makes you wet and blush at the same time, every touch so carefully chosen in order to make you feel good, the way he confesses and the way he smiles and his cute laugh; you were really crazy for him.

You let go, like a heavy stone had been lifted off your chest. Fireworks, sparks go off in your abdominal, you start seeing black spots in your vision because the pleasure completely throws you off but in the best way possible. He follows soon after, pulling out just in time to come onto the tiles below and letting it wash down into the drain.

His hand pumps his length a few more times until he meets your gaze again, and suddenly you’re all he’s ever known. He rushes forward, kissing you gently and rubbing the small of your back. You pull away for air and he peppers kisses along your cheek bone and on the button of your nose.

“So,” you say, “what are we gonna do?”

He leans back, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Like,” you start, reaching to rub your collarbone, “are we going to go back out there or—”

“No way,” he laughs, “those are my best friends, and they’d never let it down if they knew we did it in the girls’ locker room.”

You giggle with him, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. “At least it wasn’t the boys’ locker room.”

“Let’s go back to my dorm,” he whispers.

“It’s gonna be cold,” you mumble, remembering you left your shirt back at the pool and he only brought his swimming trunks in.

“We can run?”

“Hypothermia doesn’t stop just because you’re fast.”

He taps his chin. “I’ll go in and steal one of the boy’s towels. I know Jin always keeps a spare in his locker.”

You smile. “You know his passcode?”

“He’s a simple guy,” he pushes your shoulders back so you’re looking at him. “Birthdays and what not. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

You bend down, picking up your discarded and still wet clothing, rubbing your palms against your skin to momentarily create friction. As you’re making your way out of the locker rooms, you feel Hoseok wrap his arms around your figure, bringing you dense warmth from his upper body. He goes in through the door, grabs the towel, and wraps it around you and his shoulders, keeping a hand at your hip and the other gripping the towel over him.

The night was still young, sky pitch black, and neither of you found yourselves caring too much about the missed opportunities and the lost time on your hands. You felt perfectly content going to bed early wrapped around his, entangling your legs with his legs, drumming your fingers along his rhythmic chest.

He was the last person you thought you could ever care for, but here you are.

“Shit,” you hiss. His clock blinks a red 4:58 mockingly. “Hoseok,” you shake him awake.

“Mhm?” He mumbles, blinking awake.

“Get changed,” you say, throwing the sheets off of you.

“Oh fuck,” he curses, taking a look at his clock and jumping off the bed. “Coach will be so pissed—”

“This is like the second time in a row, Hoseok,” you grunt, pulling a shirt over you and slinging your bag over your shoulders. “This never happened last year. I’m getting fired.”

“No you’re not,” he says as he climbs into his swimming trunks, “it’ll be fine.”

You run together through the campus, hand in hand, the smell of another annual autumn invading your senses, crisp leaves crunching under your feet and a musty breeze. You can see the early creeks of the sun peeking through, and it’s a telltale sign you’re late.

Hoseok bursts through the doors first and you follow behind him. Four heads turn to your direction.

“Late as always,” Coach mumbles down at his feet, “is being on time not a cool trend anymore?”

“Sorry Coach,” Hoseok speaks up.

“We slept in,” you say for him.

Taehyung whistles. “Bow chicka wow wow—”

“Don’t you guys have another other excuses?” Jimin clicks his tongue, biting back his oncoming giggles.

“Let’s just get going,” Coach sighs. “Eight laps for you, Hoseok. And you,” he turns to look at your face. You tense up. “I thought I told you you were supposed to stop him from coming in late.”

“Sorry Coach,” you duck your head down. “Last time it’ll happen.”

“To be honest Coach,” Seokjin says, “there is something about Hoseok’s bed that makes you want to sleep for much longer. I think it’s because his sheets smell so nice. And he got those silky pillows recently.”

“Get in the pool, Seokjin,” Coach tilts his head to the side and Seokjin follows his orders, making Jungkook choke out a laugh.

“How do you know, Jin?” He asks.

“Doesn’t matter.”

Taehyung reaches the pool edge first, closely followed by Jungkook.

“Woo!” You cheer, flashing him a great grin. “Nicely done!”

Taehyung gives you an out-of-breath smile with a thumbs up. All your hounding about improving his stamina for the past year had paid off. Everybody gives him a round of applause once they reach the finish line too. Jungkook says the races are the best part of the lesson. Seokjin swears he’ll beat Taehyung one day, but that’ll be hard now that he’s become ‘a swimming machine’.

“Y/N, you got a moment?” Coach asks.

You nod, turning back to the team. “Let’s do two laps of butterfly now. Jimin, don’t forget to keep your legs close together.” They kick off the wall at the sound of your whistle and you pull away from the lesson. “Yeah, Coach?”

“Y/N, I wanted to say I like what you’ve done with the team. I can see the improvement these boys have had since you’ve taken a lead in the lessons,” he says and your eyes light up.

You’re too caught off guard to answer, instead choosing to grin like an idiot.

“Maybe in the future I can look into stepping your position up to Co-Coach. It’s no guarantee just yet but—”

“Thank you, Coach!” You squeal and then clear your throat. “I’m honored.”

“I said no gu—” He stops himself when your expression doesn’t budge. “Oh, one more thing,” he adds and you raise your eyebrows, “about your friend.”

“Yeah?” You perk up.

“Yerim, am I right?” You nod feverently. “I’ve looked at her application and we could use somebody to keep the team organized when we go to nationals.”

“So—she’s hired?” You grin.

“No guarantee—”

“Got it, Coach,” you grin even wider, “I’ll tell her the good news.”

Coach sighs and then forms a smile. “I think I see Jimin over there kicking with two legs.”

You turn around. “Hey! I said keep your legs close together when you kick.”

Jimin pulls up from the water, annoyed. “It’s hard!”

“Well do one more lap,” you instruct and he groans, “I’ll watch you this time. Everybody else rest.”

Before you go to follow Jimin’s lap along the side of the pool, you catch Hoseok’s eyes. He leans against the edge, his arms propped up and his gaze softly settled on yours. You feel your legs tremble at the sight, and even after all this time together, he still has that effect on you. You send him a small smile and he eagerly returns it, his expression melting tenderly. Your heart beats so fast you almost forget you’re supposed to be watching Jimin’s lap.

When practice ends, Hoseok slings a wet arm over your shoulders, bringing you into the warm envelope of his towel.

“What you down to do today?” He asks, rubbing your arms.

“I’m still tired,” you answer, “and I really like those silk pillows you got.”

“Bought them just for you,” he grins and you raise an eyebrow. “Okay, just for you and me. I think Jin slept in my bed once though.” You laugh. “Let’s go back to my dorm and catch some winks of sleep.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Maybe I can eat you out before you take a nap—”

“I did not just hear that,” Taehyung exclaims behind you.

“Hey!” You swat your hand at him. “This is a private conversation!”

“God, I’m gonna be sick,” he holds his stomach for dramatic purposes. “God forbid our baby Jungkook hears those vile words.”

“What’d they say?” Jimin asks curiously.

“Alright, alright,” Hoseok puts up his hand, letting go of you in front of the boys’ locker room, “let’s be a little mature.”

“What’s happening?” Jungkook perks up.

“Jungkook!” Taehyung rushes forward, covering the boy’s ears, “stay by my side. Don’t ever walk near Y/N and Hoseok in the middle of conversation, do you hear me?”

“He can’t. You have his hands over his ears,” Seokjin comments, pushing past the doors.

“Fair point,” Taehyung releases his hold on Jungkook, patting Jimin on the back before disappearing into the changing rooms.

“Y’all nasty,” Jimin mumbles and you laugh. Jungkook follows after him, furrowing his eyebrows at you as if trying to decipher the situation but failing cutely.

“Okay but really,” Hoseok says in the middle of the doorway. “How about it?”

You grin. “Get changed, Jung.”