#anyway folks... yours truly has forced herself to return to jjk posting

[vagabond-umlaut]

gojo: we should get married you: but we've been dating for less than a month gojo: and i think i have shown incredible restraint waiting this long

[yeojaa]

SUGAR HIGH, chapter v. (w. JJK)

You're not entirely sure when it happened, though you'd come to terms with it. You'd counted the days, waiting for the inevitable. You'd truly thought you'd be okay, but by the broken, half-beating thing in your chest - you knew you'd never really been prepared.

alt summary.  You thought you’d known real love and maybe you had - it just wasn’t with who you thought.

pairing.  jeon jungkook.  mentions/involvement of ot7.

tags.  angst, break up, post-break up, comfort, OT7, slow burn, friendship, moving on, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, emotional baggage, fluff, canon compliant, jeon jungkook is bad at feelings, jeon jungkook is a good friend, jeon jungkook is a sweetheart.

rating.  general (for now?)

word count.  ~1400

chapter 5.  It’s Like Twilight

He's loved you since you were kids.  You're sure you've loved him for even longer.  Too bad you're too blinded by each other's light to realize you're standing on the precipice together.

Their return home doesn't go unnoticed - especially when they're holding coffees.

"Yah - where's mine!"  Dressed in his blue and white striped apron, spatula in one hand and hair sticking out in all directions, Seokjin looks like something straight out of a comic strip.  The eldest has all but launched himself across the kitchen counter, nearly sending his previously cradled mixing bowl to the ground.  

"Didn't know who would be up."  Taunting spreads like wildfire, licking across his lips as Jungkook takes a long, appreciative pull of the iced Americano that's causing such a fuss.  "Sorry, hyung."

Except, he doesn't look sorry at all, that little shit-eating grin making a home in the curl of his mouth and the way he languidly drops into the nearest seat, backpack deposited at his feet.  He's relaxing into the cushions, clearly very pleased with himself as he exhales a long yawn.  He'll make it up to Seokjin later, when they're exhausted from meetings and buzzing for some liquid gold in the form of espresso. 

Bemused laughter gives way - dragged off by something that sounds like 'ungrateful little maknae' - and Jungkook allows himself to sink further into the chair, arm thrown across his eyes.  He shifts this way and that, kicking his feet up on the coffee table, as he chases comfort like a dog on the hunt. 

A nap sounded really, really good right now.

"Everything okay?"  The voice comes from just above him and to the left.  Namjoon, of course.

'Or not,' he thinks, not unkindly.

"Yeah."  His response is muffled by the crook of his elbow, rumbling out of his chest and disappearing against sinew and bone.  It fills the silence for only a moment before he's realizing it's inadequate.  Straightening up and facing his leader head-on, he offers a smile that brims with unspoken gratitude.  "Everything's good."

Namjoon doesn't push further.  He never does.  He always trusts his members.  "Okay."

By the time everyone has woken up - or been drawn to the kitchen by the smell of cocoa and cinnamon - Jungkook's already showered and found his seat at the imposing dining table.  A leg is hiked up, foot flat against the inside of his ankle, as he tears into a still-warm waffle, careful not to coat his fingers in syrup.

He's humming to himself and scrolling through his phone with his free hand, seemingly lost in thought.

Really, he's making note of which photos to edit and which will never see the light of day.  

There's the shot of the '95ers, Taehyung's frame cradled by the smaller dancer's.  It's hard to tell whose limbs are whose, where one's hair ends and the other begins.  They're two halves of a whole, the same easy laughter radiating off them in waves.

There's Namjoon, framed against the skyline, his profile a stark contrast to the way orange flares across the horizon, devouring the bell-flower blue and leaving violet in its wake.

There's one of Hoseok, palms facing the camera as he'd leapt into a sudden reenactment of some of their latest choreography.  His face is barely visible, just a brilliant, all-encompassing smile.

And then there's you, sputtering around a mouthful of toothpaste.  You're together under the fluorescent light of your bathroom, his elbow resting on your shoulder as you make funny faces at each other in the mirror. 

"How's Soomi?"  The question draws him from his careful consideration, dragging his attention instead to the zombie come to life that's just dropped into the seat beside him. 

He wonders, briefly, who had to drag Yoongi out of bed this time.  He's glad it wasn't him. 

"She's fine."  Jungkook's response is noncommittal like the shrug he offers up.  It isn't his place to say.

"I'm surprised she got over it that quickly."

This stirs something in the younger's gut, his hand stilling mid-grab of a waffle.  Long enough for Yoongi to notice on his right and for Taehyung to steal said waffle on his left.  "You knew?"  He hates the way the question sounds, shocked and surprised and maybe just a little bit sullen.

"You're not the only one she talks to."  It's a reprimand framed around a mouthful of toast, edge of reproach softened by the way their eyes meet.  "I've known for a while.  She tries too hard to hide things when she's upset."

Jungkook knew that.  You'd always trip over your own two feet in your haste to come up with another excuse as to why you were upset, or why your Discord's Listening To was suddenly filled with heartbreaking songs.  You'd never admit something was eating you up inside;  you'd rather deflect with some terrible joke or another meme you'd found on Naver.  

"I didn't know it was that bad."  When Jungkook finally manages a response, he's keenly aware of how bad it sounds. 

But he'd been so busy - so wrapped up in preparing for their new release.  Their comeback had meant everything to him.  Not that you'd blame him, of course.  You wanted this, just as much as he did.  Anything for him.

"It's not a big deal,"  Yoongi mirrors the younger's earlier movement, narrow shoulders shifting beneath the cotton of his long sleeve.  He's spreading butter over another piece of toast as he speaks, quiet beneath the din of other voices.  "She was going to tell you eventually.  It just happened faster than she thought it would."  A bite and thoughtful chewing.  "Probably for the best, anyway."

It was no secret how little any of the seven men around the table liked your ex-boyfriend.

To them, it was strikingly evident you were as different as night and day.  Where you shone like the sun, he eclipsed the stars.  You'd always insisted the night sky was beautiful in its own way but you'd never realized those things kept secret and shameful at night would never compare to the glory of another morning.

"Yeah, for the best," Jungkook echoes.

"Your hair looks good, unnie,"  Yejin chirps as you approach the table, tray loaded with goodies from the pastry case. 

You beam from ear to ear as you sit down, pushing the offerings to your friend.  You'd managed to get in to see your stylist shortly after Jungkook had left, nearly begging him on the phone.  You had to admit - he'd done a phenomenal job.  

Sure, you knew you were never supposed to make any drastic style changes after a breakup but this felt right.

"Thank you."  

Picking apart a croissant - almond, your favourite - you allow silence to settle between the two of you.  It feels good to be out of the house for the first time in days.  Normal, almost.

You remind yourself it's only been 72 hours.

"So, Jungkook’s back?" 

You'd been waiting for the question, partially relieved when Yejin gets it out of the way so quickly.  You'd always appreciated that about her.  She was no-nonsense. 

"Yeah.  I'm not sure for how long, though."  Because no matter what it was never long enough.  One of the downfalls of being famous, you supposed.  Though, really - you didn't mind.  It kept your friendship strong, forcing you through bouts of silence and the sound of his voice only through the airwaves.

"You're finally going to tell him, right?"  She's expectant, tearing you apart with her eyes like you're doing to your croissant.

You snort, the sound unflattering and decidedly childish.  "There's nothing to tell."

"You're kidding me."  Yejin is the queen of making you feel like a freshman about to get hazed, brows darting high in what can only be described as disapproval.  Perhaps exasperation, too, and a sprinkle of love.  

"I'm serious.  We're friends."

It's her turn to snort, the sound derisive and cutting.  You know it's all in good fun, so you let it go. 

"If I had a friend that looked like that, we'd be more than friends."

"I'm telling Kihoon you said that."  Kihoon being her boyfriend of seven years and the reason you still believed in true love.  They were just so disgustingly perfect together.  

"Go ahead - he'll agree with me."

You know she's right so you stuff the rest of your croissant in your mouth, nearly choking when she rolls her eyes and mimes shooting herself straight through the head. 

Drama queen.

notes.   i accidentally refreshed my page while halfway through this chapter and that folks, is why you don't write in anything but Word (or the equivalent). big ol' fml. 

i apologize if this chapter was a little lackluster (and short!).  rewriting was awful.  the next chapter will be better, though. i think. i hope. 

also, listen to the classic BUDDY mix of ATEEZ's "twilight" if you want some real feels.