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There’s muffled footsteps, leather boots scraping against the burgundy polyester carpet, when Jimin feels a presence linger in front of his table. His eyes lift just slightly from his thick textbook and he espies the beginnings of a leather jacket worn over a white t-shirt, the outline of the person’s toned build conspicuous through the transparency of his shirt from the soft rays of the sun that spilled through the windows.
“Hey, sweet cheeks,” Jimin recognizes that familiar, low voice, spoken through a quiet hush, “you must be the cause of global warming because you’re really hot.”
If it had been any other day, Jimin would have looked up from his work and decked the guy in the face or maybe if he was in a honeyed mood - all sugary smiles and sweet laughter - he would have patted him on the back for being painfully insistent in his inadequate attempts at seduction, but sadly, not today.
Unimpressed, Jimin didn’t even bother to look up as he flippantly retorts, “Actually, it’s predominantly because of too much carbon dioxide in the atmosphere. You can look it up with fancy technology we call computers and phones in this day and age.” A complete rebuttal that can bruise the ego. Jimin expects the person to leave, maybe with a frustrated huff of defeat or to spit a few indignant insults and expletives to convey their hurt pseudo pride from the reception of an instant rejection, but no. In lieu of walking away, the person laughs in an undulating light voice.
“Oh, how you wound me. Feisty and cute. I like that. Hot enough to denature my proteins, if you must know.”
Jimin finally looks up and meets his intense gaze - a handsome face he has, with a suave smirk and sultry eyes that can rival the darkness of the vast sky; dark, caramel brown hair and a sun-kissed complexion and a posture that emanated all magnitudes of confidence and possible vainness, if Jimin feels sardonic enough to sprinkle a few critical assumptions around. Because there he fucking is - Jeon Jungkook, a party legend and revered philanderer, a renowned wild child, the connoisseur of all fine things fuckery, complete douchebag when drunk and complete douchebag when sober - there’s no in between - iconically once practiced head while beer bonging.
(Oh, and right. His one night stand. Can’t forget about that.)
“I’m trying to study, Jungkook,” Jimin merely lets out an irritated huff, looking back down at his vivid compendium of notes he’d taken from his human biology class earlier, “so please leave.”
He’s not surprised that Jungkook doesn’t listen to him - as usual. Instead, he pulls back a chair and plops down onto the seat across from him, dropping his backpack onto the floor and leaning his arms against the table with a quirk of an eyebrow, “Sorry, beautiful. I have to study as well (Jimin scoffs at that. Him? Study? The worst lie to ever come into existence from his mouth) and unfortunately, all the other tables are full. I guess that means you’re stuck with me but don’t worry,” There’s a sly smile on his face, all light and smug, “I’ll be as quiet as a mouse and you won’t remember that I’m even here.”
As much as Jimin would like to believe him - he doesn’t, because the thing is, he’s been saying that for the past few weeks of pestering him. Jimin was sure that they had completely different definitions of what ‘quiet’ was - for Jungkook, it meant coining flirtatious remarks every five minutes without laying a hand on his deserted econ papers. Jimin assumed economic majors would be more diligent and sophisticated and maybe even modest, but the five-foot ten frat boy sitting at his table that epitomizes the very definition of smugness in one entire body whose ego is as big and full-scaled as the national debt, proved him otherwise.
But Jimin supposes it’s all because of their little rendezvous that had happened from the party.
Jimin remembers -- remembers a little bit too much; all bright flashing lights and the musky smell of sweat and alcohol on the dance floor intermingling in the stuffy air, the heat of tangled bodies brushing against the tight fabric of his clothes and his skin. He had been dancing, letting his hips gyrate sensually and his whole body move and bend tactilely in accordance to the blaring, electronic music. Hoseok had ran off the moment they’ve arrived after being persistent in his pursuit in dragging Jimin out for a night of fun after a day of being a troglodyte of all-nighters and study sessions. Needless to say - Jimin didn’t appreciate being abandoned, but it wasn’t so bad.
The myriad of people were mostly a blur, merely silhouettes in his peripheral, until someone moved in front of him and his lowered eyes espied the sudden sight of a broad chest and robust shoulders, the strong outlines of muscles visible through the light fabric of the stranger’s shirt. Jimin rose his gaze until he reached a pair of piercing eyes that was weaved with faint, lingering colors from the variegated lights, and Jimin could see it -- the desire, when Jimin saw the way his salacious gaze dipped down towards Jimin’s neck as a bead of sweat trickled down towards his collarbone.
And maybe Jimin tilted his head a bit, an invocative gesture, and gave him a coquettish smile, beckoning him to dance with him, where their bodies were pressed against each other amidst the heavy vibrations of the bass that rocked the entire floor and the whirlwind of limbs and loud laughter and the rush of alcohol in their bloodstreams, and it was a hazy exchange of carnal touches and tantalizing looks.
All until his firm fingers slipped through the belt loops of Jimin’s tight jeans, tugging at it slightly as he leaned forward and asked in a husky voice and a suggestive smirk, to which Jimin could only make out a couple of words that was interfered from the loud music, “ -- Jungkook. What’s your name, beautiful?”
“Jungkook,” Jimin drawled with an enticing smile and let his arm glide over his shoulder, “You can find out yourself.”
And the next thing he knew, he was being pinned against the wall of somewhere more secluded and quiet and a pair of hot lips were smashed against his with avid eagerness, with passion but without passion at all, strong hands clutched around his hips and fingers trailing upwards and exploring the sensitive skin underneath his shirt. He pressed his tongue to the seam of Jimin’s lips and delved inside his mouth, the pungent scent of cheap beer being exchanged in the mesh of their heavy breaths and he could nearly feel the slight burn of it as it rolled off his tongue and seeped down his throat with every push of his tongue against his, coaxing low moans from him.
As Jimin ran his hands over the curvature of Jungkook’s spine until he reached and tangled his arms around his neck, he arched up into his broad chest when their lips were pulled apart and Jungkook left a trail of kisses down towards the crook of his neck, sucking at the soft flesh and licking the marks that caused something burning to stir in his gut.
“Already excited, huh?” Jungkook lowly murmured into his neck as his hands slowly travelled down his sides, causing shivers to riddle down his spine.
Jimin exhaled a low laugh, “I could say the same to you.”
“Mm. So,” Jungkook pulled away and Jimin could feel his hot breath against his flushed skin, hooking his fingers around the waistband of his pants.
“The wall or the bed?”
And maybe the memory still made him blush at the most inconvenient of times (such as now), but he hopes Jungkook misses it as Jimin quickly ducks his head down. Unfortunately, he doesn’t and notices Jimin’s pink cheeks, and it perpetuates another grin to grow on his face.
“I guess it’s not easy to forget about it when looking at me, huh?” Jungkook shrugs nonchalantly as he leans his arms against the table, grinning, “Can’t blame you. It was pretty wild. I mean, it’s hard to forget the person who you -- ”
“Shut up, you ass.” Jimin interrupts him with a hiss and threatens to throw a crumpled up piece of paper at him, to which Jungkook didn’t take seriously and merely laughed. Jimin hadn’t expected the guy he hooked up with to find him the next day after he woke up in his room and left without a word - because ‘a hookup’ was the most basic, straightforward foundation of all frivolous relationships to exist with no strings attached. It’s called that for a reason with a certain unspoken boundary. Jungkook’s been annoying him ever since then and his intentions has been questionably ill-defined.
So, Jimin was sure that Jungkook was merely infatuated because there was no way he was interested in Jimin as a person of all things - there’s absolutely no way. Guys like him were shallow and inconsiderate of other people's’ feelings, pursuing the body but not the heart. After all, university isn’t an ideal place of romance when it’s run by all sorts of individuals with commitment displacements and Jimin didn’t need any distractions deterring him from his path of becoming a successful surgeon. A broken heart was not at the top of his list. Besides Jungkook was just a good fuck and Jimin’s pretty sure Jungkook feels the same way too.
“Just - shut up and let me study, okay?” Jimin huffs a frustrated sigh. As easy as it was for him to just get up and leave, it was his study spot in the commodious library and he wasn’t going to let some - some annoying arse bandit steal it away from him and rob him of his precious time.
Jungkook nods with a complacent shrug and Jimin tolerantly resumes reviewing his notes, refreshing his mind after the lecture he’d had in the afternoon, and for a while, a concentrated silence settles between them quite comfortably much to Jimin’s initial surprise.
Though he barely looks up, in his periphery, he was able to make out the view of Jungkook flipping the pages of his workbook, but the habitual drumming of his pencil in hand was more often than not, disturbing. Despite that, Jimin is able to review the information pertaining to heart bypass surgery, a common procedure that’s utilized to restore normal blood flow to an obstructed artery; the connecting of each graft to the ends of the coronary arteries and the other end to the aorta - almost like solving a dangerous puzzle that makes the hands shake from adrenaline, a kind of elation that renders the earth beneath him to quiver in thrill and challenge. And it’s fascinating, how a pair of confident hands, with the usage of malleable technology, can make the lives of people more endurable and perhaps somewhat easier - a touch of sensible magic, he supposes.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone that happy with,” Jungkook speaks up when he catches Jimin beaming at his notes, eyeing the dense papers flooded with text before he motions at the collective mess with a pencil in hand, “all that. Biology? Seriously?” He makes an appalled face, expressing his distaste for the science, when it was the most fascinating and engaging subject in Jimin’s entire world. “What’s so interesting about it, sweet cheeks?”
“What’s so interesting about it?” Jimin repeats in mild astonishment, and he sets his mouth into a grave line as he throws his papers onto the table, signalling the beginnings of his passionate spiel, “Biology studies the basic and fundamental elements of nature! You learn about how organisms live and interact with their environment and work with other living beings. It’s the rudimentary and vast diversity of the topic that can help humans learn how to exist in their environment with better health while taking care of the world they live in. It’s - vital. Without biology and its other branches of similar sciences, there wouldn’t be any doctors or surgeons or health specialists or people in the medical field to help us coexist. Besides, how else would we know how our own bodies work without it?”
“Well,” Jungkook shrugs, raising his eyebrows in amusement and there it fucking is again - that stupidly smug smile gracing his stupidly handsome face, “if you need to know how the human body works, you can always use mine again.” And then he fucking winks at him and Jimin swears he pukes a little bit in his mouth from the lame line that causes the brain cells in his head to shrivel up and wilt like a garden of flowers in the middle of winter.
“Oh my god,” Jimin shuts his textbook and he starts packing up his things so that he could relocate himself and study somewhere else that’s more peaceful and quiet, a place that would guarantee a one-sided flirting-free zone, “I hate you. I’m leaving.”
“Come on! It was totally a good one in my opinion,” Jungkook muses as he watches Jimin shove all his possessions into his bag, standing from his seat to leave, and hums, “Well, aren’t you a bundle of sunshine? You know, sweet cheeks, I think you should think more like a proton, you know? Always positive.”
He hears Jungkook’s broad laughter echo behind him as Jimin whirls around and storms away, fighting back the strange feeling of warmth pooling in his chest he assumed was mere indignation at the cheekiness of the boy’s shameless audacity.
He definitely hates him - no doubt about it.
///
Underneath the shade of a poplar tree that protected him from the warm sunspot of a windless afternoon, where the sunlight spilled through the gaps of verdant foliage, Jimin was already typing up the lab report about the dissection he had just finished earlier from his biology lab in the morning.
The dull sounds of shoes scraping against the concrete pavement and idle voices that blended in a calm cacophony became white noise to his ears, something part of the background, present but intangible. He read somewhere that fresh air can further bring more clarity to the mind and improve his concentration, considering how the brain needs 20% of oxygen to fortify a sharper acumen (not to mention how much fresh air rejuvenated his lungs after smelling the piquant odor of formaldehyde permeating the air for almost two hours - plus, he’s pretty sure his usual spot at the library would be occupied with a familiar but unpalatable presence.)
But as usual, he receives a reminder from the universe that it’ll never align itself with his need for peace and quiet, because as soon as he gets to the procedure part of the lab report, he hears footsteps and the creaking sounds of the table as another person sits across from him.
“Fancy meeting you here, sweet cheeks. Surprised you’re not at the library as per usual,” Jungkook hums, cupping his face in the palms of his hands as he sets his elbows atop of the bench table, “You weren’t avoiding me, were you?”
“I was.” Jimin deadpans, cursing inwardly, “And I would like to keep it that way.”
Jungkook laughs carefreely, a reaction to which Jimin didn’t expect, because aren’t frat boys supposed to cradle their wounded egos somewhere else? Like, in their giant monster truck with KC lights? “Ouch. Are you one of those types to show affection through dry insults and constant pettiness? Because man, I love that.”
It’s more of a defense mechanism but of course Jimin doesn’t tell him that. Instead, he scoffs, “Then I’d consider you a masochist.” Then, he glowers at him after suspicion leaves a trail of goosebumps over his skin, “Are you following me?”
“What? Of course not!” Jungkook exclaims at the ridiculousness of the question, “Perhaps it’s fate? I can’t do anything when it comes to that, y’know? I just want to stick to you like glue-cose.” There’s a shit-eating grin on his face that Jimin wants to so dearly punch, but the pick-up line was so horrible that something fuzzy builds up in his chest that starts to tickle the back of his throat. Before he even realizes what’s happening, he’s laughing into his hands and his stomach is contracting into aches as he folds over and drops his head onto the table. The whole situation was absurd and maybe that’s why he found it hilarious enough to let his tinkling laughter spill through his lips, and what he found funnier was the possibility of Jungkook searching up all those lame biology pick-up lines just to use on him.
“That’s terrible,” Jimin rubs his eyes with the back of his palms, shaking his head, “It’s the worst one you’ve said yet.” And he glances at Jungkook, who’s suddenly eerily quiet. For some reason, his eyes are wide with a scintillation of astonishment, like a star peeking through a firmament of an empty darkness, and he spots a lingering, soft pink tinging his cheeks - but perhaps Jimin needed glasses because there was absolutely no way that could happen - all until Jungkook clears his throat and puts up that facade of coolness and smugness again.
“Didn’t seem like it.” Jungkook smirks, reaching over to fiddle with the flaps of the lab manual he was using as a guideline. “So, um. Hey, what about a cup of coffee? My treat. Looks like you could use a real break right now.”
Jimin composes himself as breathes in and out deeply, recollecting his inner peace, and shakes his head as he settles his hands back onto the keyboard of his laptop, “I’ll pass. I don’t like coffee.”
“Excuse me?” Jungkook gapes at him as though he’s grown two, infallible heads like some mythical hydra, “Bull-fucking-shit! Every university student survives on coffee. It’s a concrete fact - how can you dislike coffee? It’s our lord and saviour. You’re lying.”
“I value honesty and integrity,” Jimin says as he juts out his chin a bit haughtily, “I don’t lie.”
(Jimin was, in fact, lying. He just wanted to be left alone but the plan was apparently backfiring.)
“ ‘I don’t lie’,” He mocks in a high-pitched voice and a silly expression before he scoffs, “Well, for someone who doesn’t lie, you sure do suck at lying.”
Jimin narrows his eyes, “That didn’t even make any sense.”
“You don’t make any sense.” Jungkook fires back impudently with a petulant frown, almost childlike, and never in his years would he expect to see the callowness he possessed because Jimin didn’t think it was possible for someone as pompous as him display such childness that would definitely hurt his ‘too cool for school’ image. And if Jimin was being honest, it’s kind of amusing to watch - blackmail material too, but Jimin wasn’t that kind of person.
“Look, just get me - I don’t know, a fucking tea or something. Plain, no sugar or milk. But I’m not moving from my seat, okay?” Jimin concedes to his insistence at last and frowns deeply at how Jungkook’s eyes light up in triumph and victory, although Jimin isn’t sure why it was such a big deal when he was paying for someone else. However, he watches as Jungkook jumps up from his seat and throws a quick, coquettish salute towards him before running off to a nearby cafe to get their drinks, his retreating figure blending into the afternoon light as towering trees blocked Jimin’s view of him. And, well, maybe he was annoying, but perhaps there are more layers to him than what he presents himself as that maybe, just maybe, Jimin can enjoy company from.
“Nope. He’s a nuisance,” Jimin immediately rejects the thought as he mutters to himself, scowling at his laptop screen, “a complete nuisance.”
///
( “I hear lots of nice things about you, y’know. You’re really smart - always at the top of your class.” Jungkook came back after a few minutes and handed Jimin his tea as he murmured his gratitude. With the quiet soberness of his voice, Jimin wasn’t sure if he should take the suddenly modest compliment seriously or not.
“Um,” Jimin wrinkles his nose, shyly keeping his head down. “Thanks.”
Jungkook grinned, “Since you’re so smart, that means you’re academically certified to swoon my pants in biology all you want, sweet cheeks.”
Jimin was one second away from hurling his scorching cup of tea at his face. )
///
Throughout the past few weeks of (reluctantly) spending time with him, Jimin’s gotten to know him a little bit better past his frat boy image, how despite his flirtatious tendencies and unsuccessful courting, Jungkook would maintain that personal boundary between them, always leaving a respectable gap of space between them and always not touching unless given explicit permission. And maybe Jungkook would use the worst pick-up lines on him and maybe it made Jimin laugh more than it should, or how that one time when Jimin spotted him playing with a fluffy golden retriever all alone, cackling in that endearing laughter of his - almost innocent like, completely different from his typical smug nature and knack for incessantly teasing when he thought nobody was looking, and Jimin wasn’t sure if it had actually been him or his uncanny doppelganger.
(Plus, Jimin still remembered the time Jungkook became so flustered that he stammered for at least twenty seconds before he finally coherently pieced together a sentence when Jimin had merely complimented him on a doodle of a tree he had drawn on the margins of his econ notes.)
Not to mention how much he loved and revered lamb skewers (Jimin still remembers the sparkles he saw in the boy’s eyes when he saw the stand selling them), hated ketchup and would dip his fries in his ice-cream instead and would spend most of his time video gaming and practicing art when he wasn’t busy out with his friends getting wasted doing stupid shit. Those were the simple things Jimin kept track of, but he wanted to know more than what he liked and didn’t like in his hamburgers. He’s definitely not the ‘wild child’ or ‘asshole’ all the gossip had painted him out to be.
And maybe Jimin was enjoying his company a little bit too much. He was still an annoying brat that Jimin assumed was still trying to get into his pants, but Jimin’s gotten unintentionally comfortable enough to the point of turning the conversation around into something more intimate one day.
“Pause,” Jimin holds up a hand to stop Jungkook from continuing his stilted story about how the other night, one of his ‘brotatoes’ named Taehyung had gotten drunk to the point of stripping off his clothes to rave on top of tables, only to have dislocated an ankle after putting a hole in a middle of one of them from dancing too hard. Jungkook complies and shuts his mouth, blinking at him curiously as Jimin continues on, “as much as I enjoy knowing what goes on in your frat party shenanigans - no, I’m lying, I don’t - I rather know more about you. How are we supposed to be friends if I don’t know anything about you? I mean, you know stuff about me, even if it was all by ill coincidences and unintentional disclosures.”
“Oh,” Jungkook raises his eyebrows, a smile gracing upon his lips as his teeth pokes out, “friends, huh? Starting out slow, I see, despite a rough start.” Jimin splutters as Jungkook hums on in self-satisfaction, “I didn’t know you were thinking about me the whole time, sweet cheeks. I’m flattered, really.”
Jimin felt the compulsion to shove Jungkook down the pavement stairs as they went down the steps but he reevaluated his life choices since purposely causing bodily harm would not look good on his record when applying for medical school, so he settled on landing a hard punch to Jungkook’s arm, “I’ll be thinking about you when you’re buried six feet underground if you keep that shit up, you brat. I’m serious.”
"Aw," Jungkook coos in a teasing manner, "You’re so cute you make my zygomaticus muscles contract."
What the fuck. Although he's thoroughly impressed by how much Jungkook has learned through his cheesy attempts at wooing him. However, still glaring at him and perpetually not amused, Jimin didn't hold back his strength this time and landed another solid punch to his arm, probably one that would earn a slight bruise (but the little shit deserved it).
“Ow, okay, okay,” Jungkook grimaces and rubs his stinging arm with a slight frown, “Fine. What do you want to know?”
“Well, for starters, what are your plans for the future?” Jimin inquires and he watches the way Jungkook’s nose scrunches up in contemplation, how his expression sheds the smugness away and replaces it with more earnestness and honesty as he frankly thinks about Jimin’s question.
“I don’t know,” Jungkook shrugs and his shoes scuffs against the ground as he kicks a pebble away from his path, “probably something in business.”
“And that’s what you really want to do?”
“For the time being, not exactly. I’m just taking it ‘cause my parents want me to.” Jungkook says and huffs a wry laugh, and tilts his head upwards to glance up at the turquoise sky, “I’m more of an artsy person, if I can even use that word to describe myself. But i don’t think too much about the future when it comes to my career. I like to be here - in the present, having fun and exploring all my options before I stick to one thing and one thing only. And when the time comes, then I’ll take initiative.” His shoulders slump a bit as he looks back down at the ground, giving a one-shouldered shrug, “I don’t know. That’s just how I am.”
And Jungkook sounds sincere about it, rather a bit reticent, but he seems genuine. It’s weird because he and Jimin are different. Jimin knows his purpose - he’s got his whole life mapped out before him in blue and black ink, a clear and precise topographic path he’s cultivated along the years: he’ll finish his last two years in undergraduate school before four years of a prominent medical school that’ll ensure the harnessing of his full potential, and another lengthy succession of residency and fellowship training before achieving his end goal of becoming a surgeon. Jimin has a blueprint of a success - a road that he’ll follow until he reaches his objective. And it’ll repeat, because the supply of success didn’t stop at the midway pinnacle of reaching his goal.
Sometimes, Jimin forgets to live in the present because he’s so busy planning his future. And because of that, he’s missed out all the ‘fun’ things of what university brings, be it just exploring clubs and experiencing the tame animations of campus life.
“That’s understandable. I think I can use that mindset a bit more, actually. Ah, if only I was as loose and carefree as you.” Jimin chuckles lightly, “You’re still young too, so having fun is vital. I think you’d be a really good artist, though, from how talented you are in art.”
He can sense Jungkook staring at him in his periphery, but Jimin keeps his eyes ahead as he let the wind billow across them, “You talk as though you dedicated your entire youth to just academics without any fun in your life.”
“Hey, I did have fun.” Jimin argues, “I went to that party and met you, didn’t I? That was fun, even though you were a pain in the ass. Literally. And you still are, for the record.” He snorts dryly before he notices that Jungkook’s stopped in his tracks. Jimin turns around and meets his eyes - wide and golden beneath the sun’s rays, but unreadable and quite solemn in its disposition, and Jimin’s not sure if he had said anything wrong to have suddenly silenced him.
“Jungkook?” Jimin frowns a bit, and he watches with a demure gaze as Jungkook reaches towards him, fingers gently brushing away the stray strands of his black hair away from his face. Every accidental touch of his fingers to his skin perpetuated his cheeks to flush hotly as Jimin speechlessly stares up at him in surprise and thorough disbelief. The gesture was unexpected and unbelievably tender that lacked any other motive, and Jungkook’s eyes had more of gentleness than the usual passion he had in his gilded irises.
Jimin’s breath hitches when he feels his chest flutter with something warm, akin to feathery wings of butterflies brushing against his thoracic cavity and flickering towards his stomach. It was a disconcerting feeling, a strange new and unfamiliar phenomenon, and he’s not sure if he should go see the doctor or not because he feels as though he’s going to throw up and combust into stardust.
As though he was burned, Jungkook’s eyes widen and he wrenches his hand away, melting into a stuttering mess, “Uh - um - s - sorry, I was - um. Yeah. Sorry. Shit. That was - the wind and your hair and I just - sorry.” He awkwardly fumbles with his striped shirt and shoves his hands into the pockets of his tight jeans.
“Oh, uh. That’s - that’s okay. Yeah. Thanks.” Jimin clears his throat, blinking away the residue of astonishment as he shifts his weight between his feet. A suffocating and awkward silence hovers between them and Jimin isn’t sure what to say because he’s too busy trying to decipher what the hell was going on inside his chest.
“I’m going to - “ Jungkook finally speaks and he starts to back away, shrugging superfluously while gesticulating wildly to convey his coherence, “I think I should go now? Yeah, I have a - a project I should be working on because you know me, always procrastinating. Ha ha. I’ll - I’ll catch you later or something, sweet cheeks. Um, yeah. Okaybye.” He whirls around and practically runs away, and Jimin watches him go.
He stands there, a bit dizzy, a bit giddy, and definitely a lot confused.
///
The university cafeteria was bustling with lively chatter and an inundation of hungry students, the warm, mixed aromas of different types of lunches made from different food stands all cacophonous in its colourful composition. Seated across from each other at one of the rectangular tables, Yoongi watched on with partial lethargy and amusement as Jimin complained heatedly into his plate of fried rice with a side of sweet and sour chicken, red cheeks filled to the brim that gave him a bit of a squirrel look.
“He’s like a, I don’t know - “ Jimin grumbles with a mouthful, “a fucking inhibitor.”
Yoongi blinks with much passivity and without any understanding to what he means. “Excuse me?”
“You know, like? Competitive inhibition? He’s the inhibitor and I’m the substrate and the enzyme are my objectives. Whether it’s studying or borrowing a book or maybe trying to, like, listen to my optometrist and look at the trees or some shit, he always somehow manages to throw me off my game and aggravate me to the point of no tomorrow! Just like how an inhibitor molecule prevents the binding of a substrate molecule to the enzyme - ” Jimin stabs the poor chicken with his plastic fork and stuffs it into his mouth, chewing vigorously, bits and pieces of it flying out of his mouth as he speaks, “he’s preventing me from focusing!”
“First of all,” Yoongi finally says with a stoic face, “haven’t you ever been taught table manners?” He picks up a napkin and throws it at Jimin’s face, “And second of all, I can’t believe you just used scientific language to explain the magnitude of simply how annoying that punk ass nugget is.” He snorts, “Nerd.”
“I’m having a crisis and all you can do is insult me right now?” Jimin asks, offended, as he wipes his mouth with the napkin that was thrown at him.
“What kind of shit crisis is that?”
“I have a test in one week and I haven’t been able to memorize the required pathways of human metabolism in the slightest because of him. Do you see this?” He fumbles for his papers in his bag and takes out an insanely convoluted, colour-coordinated map of the full reaction pathways of human metabolism, and exclaims in delirium, “Do you see this?”
“Yeah I see that shit and I see your bullshit too, Jimin. What do you want me to do? Beat him up or something?” Yoongi scoffs and Jimin was about to give him a piece of his mind when Hoseok came hopping towards their table with an effervescent grin and a nosy twinkle in his brilliant eyes.
“What’s happening? I heard Yoongi use ‘bullshit’ and ‘Jimin’ together in one sentence and I knew I had to come over. I’ve got ears like a hawk.” Hoseok squishes himself beside Yoongi as the grumpy boy reluctantly scoots over to give the dark-haired male more space to sit.
“Thanks,” Jimin says, sarcasm dripping from his words, “it’s nice to know I have friends I can count on to use my suffering as their form of entertainment.”
“He’s having a crisis about his one-night stand from that stupid party you dragged him to,” Yoongi rolls his eyes as he reaches over with a spare fork and steals a chicken from Jimin’s plate. “Golden boy is whipped from love at first fuck and keeps on distracting our little chickadee doo here from his academic priorities.”
“Oh? Jungkook?” Hoseok chirps up in recognition, “He’s not so bad. I’ve talked to him a couple of times since we go to the same parties. Kind of weird, pretty cool, can be a bit of an asshole, but he’s a nice kid. Killer bod too, by the way. Like, have you seen how nice his eiffel tower looks like? Eleven out of ten, my homeboys. Would definitely recommend - well, Jimin, you already know how it is because you probably - “
“Hoseok, if you could shut the fuck up, that would be lovely,” Yoongi stops him with a poker face before he could venture further into the territory of being too unnecessarily explicit.
“Hey, I’m just saying,” Hoseok shrugs with his palms up, “he’s a pretty nice guy once you get to know him. He’s just - I don’t know. He likes to act tough and cool, and because of that, he usually doesn’t chase after people, so the fact that he’s actually pursuing you?” He lets out a low whistle and quirks an eyebrow, giving them a lopsided smile, “I think he’s actually genuine. Ah, my little Kookie, growing up so fast,” He wipes a fake tear away before he yells in pain when Yoongi jabbed a sharp elbow into his side to rid of his exaggerations.
Jungkook? Genuine? Jimin laughs at the ridiculous notion because there was absolutely no way. “No, no no. That can’t be true. Look, okay - I’m pretty sure he just wants to get in my pants again. Boys - frat boys especially - are like that. Why would he be genuine about pursuing me?”
“Well,” Hoseok hums a bit, flippantly looking up at the ceiling in thought, “he still does some wild dumb shit with his friends and all, but if it means anything, he hasn’t hooked up with anyone else after you.”
Jimin blinks, lets the information settle into the crevices of his brain before he stares. “What.”
“Yup.” Hoseok pops the ‘p’ and grins brightly, “So, I’m pretty sure it’s more than just ‘trying to get into your pants’ again, Jimin.”
“But - but - but - “ Jimin waves his arms around incoherently, “he teases me all the time! He makes fun of my hands because they’re small! And my height when he’s only, like, a few centimeters taller than me.”
“Aw, that’s so cute!” Hoseok coos as he wiggles his fingers in delight, “You know he’s only like that because he doesn’t actually know how to interact with his little crush, right?”
“Did you just call him his crush?” Yoongi looks at Hoseok in moderate surprise.
“Um, duh. At this point, I’m pretty sure he’s got a crush the size of Alaska on Jimin.”
A crush.
No, Jimin’s heart didn’t fucking skip a beat. No way. There was just probably something wrong with his sinusoidal and atrioventricular nodes that controlled the rhythm of his heartbeat - must have been something biological of his that made it beat rapidly both in the presence of Jungkook and at the topic of him and he should know because his heart beats 80 beats per minute, 4,800 per hour that results in approximately 115, 200 beats per day on average. Right now, it was beating in an irregular pace that probably required medical attention because holy shit, I think I’m going to die right now.
A goddamn crush.
Holy shit.
“I think,” Jimin gulps and glances at them tentatively, Yoongi and Hoseok looking back with knowing gazes, “he’s more than just a one night stand now.”
And he’s pretty sure he can’t use biology to solve the intense emotions the human heart feels, which totally fucking sucks.
///
Jimin’s been staring at the map of the pathways of the human metabolism and not one ounce of information has been embedded into his mind. He couldn’t even focus on the acidic cycle - worst, he couldn’t even retain a single detail over the human anatomy unit and he’s been slaving away at his studies for the past few hours doing nothing productive but staring at sheets of paper as though he would suddenly be able to adopt a photographic memory. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t concentrate, and his mind kept wandering off into some other astral realm of pure nonsense.
And it’s all because of Jeon fucking Jungkook.
Ever since that circumspect epiphany about Jungkook and his questionable feelings towards him, Jimin hasn’t been able to focus. He didn’t need distractions to throw him off his path but that was what he was - a distraction, and the way he made Jimin feel was even more distracting, which is why he’s been avoiding him ever since the conversation at the cafeteria. Jimin thought that maybe all the fluttering absurdity would go away in the span of taking time to compose himself and recollect his general affinity for being free and not bothered, but no. His mind and heart had to betray him and everything kept reminding him of stupid Jungkook and his handsome face and his cute smile and how suave and dorky and shy he could be underneath all that facade of smug arrogance.
Not to mention how much Jungkook’s grown on him (like mold) and that Jimin might have… actually missed his company.
“Oh my god,” He miserably groans and bangs his fists against the table, “That’s it.” Jimin sits up in a flash and stands up from his seat with a jarring screech of his chair scraping against the floor of his bedroom. He needed to do something about it - about all of this. He was not keen on failing that major test of his and he’s done with all these fluffy feelings overwhelming him that made him want to squeal a bit and roll around his bed like a teen with a prepubescent crush. He’s done being confused and he’s done with Jungkook being confusing too.
Jimin is a practical person and he’s going to get to the goddamn bottom of this.
So, after storming out of his dorm room, instant messaging Hoseok for the number of Jungkook’s room and getting an immediate reply and a suggestive winky face, and aggressively speed walking down the hall, Jimin arrives at his destination and he stands in front of the closed door. Jimin knocks against it with a fist thrice and waits patiently, until the door opens and Jungkook presents himself in nothing but a large hoodie, puppy boxers and a tub of ice-cream and a metal spoon in hand.
Jungkook’s eyes widen into saucers as he stares aghast at him, “Jimin? What are you doing here?”
Jimin had a ton to say at the beginning of his pursuit, but now that he was here the flesh in front of Jungkook who had no goddamn pants on that made his face burn a bit in secondhand embarrassment, Jimin finds himself speechless, flustered, and lot apprehensive than before. He tries to keep his gaze above Jungkook’s waist level and his voice betrays him when he squeaks, “Can you put on pants first?”
Jungkook regards him with a bit of uncertainty before he concedes, and lets Jimin in while he shuffles back into his room to grab something to wear. In the meanwhile, Jimin’s freaking out about what to say. What was he supposed to do? Just come right out and say that he initially thought Jungkook was a big and horny asshole but now he realized that he actually has a big heart is thoughtful and that he wasn’t as shallow as Jimin thought he was in the beginning? Or should Jimin be concise in his approach? Or perhaps he should be ambiguous and vague and let Jungkook say it first?
Jimin really wished he could use biology to dig an escape route out of this romantically-inexperienced dumpster he called his body right now.
“So. Um.” Jungkook reemerges fully clothed now, adorned with grey sweatpants, as he approaches Jimin’s silent suffering and internal turmoil in the middle of the living room. Jungkook looked weary, his sharp features softened by the solemnity gracing his lineaments, and he looked bare and vulnerable - something Jimin was sure not many would have been able to see with their very own eyes, “I thought you were avoiding me?”
“Me? Avoiding you? No. That’s not true. Okay, maybe a little bit true, but it’s only because it’s your fault.” Jimin’s stumbling over his words now, his nerves going haywire while every neuron in his body sparked all kinds of stimulations to and fro through his amygdala. “I’m just going to be upfront and ask you this loud and clear, okay?” He stands up straight and crosses his arms.
“Do you like me like me?”
Jungkook blinks, then proceeds to stare at him blankly, “Huh?”
“Do you like me like me?” Jimin enunciates every word profoundly, “As in, do you like me for me and not just because I was a good fuck or something because my heart comes with my ass too, okay? It’s a package deal and you can’t love one and not the other. I mean, with all the flirting and bad pick-up lines and the stupidly romantic gestures you do sometimes, and how stupidly smug you are one second and kind in the next second confuses me and I don’t know if you - you - you know, like me or you just want to get another chance with this.” He gestures at his whole body from top to bottom, “That’s why I was avoiding you, you musclehead, but I still kept thinking about your dumbass for some ungodly reason and I can’t study or focus and I have a goddamn test in two days so I need you to be honest right here, right now at this second, Jeon Jungkook. Do you like me?” Jimin takes a sharp breath before he exhales deeply with all his nerves, voice wavering, “Because I - I think I might like you too.”
Jungkook takes a step forward, and continues to do so until his face is inches away from Jimin, and Jimin finds it hard to keep eye contact with Jungkook’s intense gaze piercing right through the confidence Jimin was trying to hold onto. Jungkook’s voice is low and sonorous, expression indecipherable as he leans forward slightly, and Jimin can only look at the malleable movement of his soft lips, “You think?”
“Answer me first,” Jimin averts his eyes to the side, swallowing.
“Why are you looking away?” Jungkook holds him gently by the chin and tilts his head up, and Jimin can feel his breath hot against his skin, “Do I make you nervous?” And there’s a slight smile on his face, the same degree of smugness but now mixed with a certain level of disbelief, as though he couldn’t believe Jimin’s words. And there’s something warm bubbling in Jimin’s chest and his heart felt like it was going to leap up through his throat. But Jungkook leans back after a moment of speculation, and his voice quiets down.
“It was like - what you said, but only at first. But after getting to know who you are as a person and how beautiful you are in the inside too, I - I started having feelings and they continued to grow even more. And then all I wanted to do was just spend time with you; get to know you even better. Be friends or something, at least, because I - ”
Without thinking or letting him finish, Jimin grabs Jungkook by the neck and pulls him in closer until their parted lips touched and their breaths mingled into at first, a delicate butterfly kiss that progressed fiercely into a passionate one. Jungkook’s lips were warm, much warmer than the night they had spent the night together at the party, because this time it’s different - Jimin can feel it in the way Jungkook holds him by the waist and how his kisses were patient rather than mindlessly eager. He tastes of vanilla; sweet and sticky and syrupy.
“I like you,” Jungkook murmurs in between kisses and heavy breaths, “I like you a lot. More than you can imagine, Jimin. I like you here too,” He lifts a hand and places it on the left side of Jimin’s chest, and his mouth stretches into a toothy grin, “I like all of you.”
JImin can’t help but smile, soft laughter spilling through his lips. Never in his life would he expect this to happen, especially since he's got everything planned out in such a calculative manner, but as he meets Jungkook's crinkled eyes caused by his wide smile, he finds himself back in the present.
And, well. Jimin didn’t mind having another person to accompany him in his road to success. He's got plenty of room in his future.
("So, babe. How about you and me go into my room and, uh. Form a covalent bond?"
"... I hate you."
"Sorry, can't help it. I just want to stick to you like glue-cose.")