Chapter Text
Jeon Jungkook stared at the screen of his computer looking over the bright image he’d just tweaked, fingers itching to pick up the notepad on the desk beside his keyboard. He was nearly finished with the graphics he’d been contracted to design. It hadn’t started as a particularly difficult job, but the client had made several late changes and Jungkook had had to nearly start over.
Nearly.
However, the designs were due in by the end of the workday and the job would be over soon. As tempting as it was to go to the roof and sketch, the deadline for the designs was at 5:00 p.m. and it was just past noon, so he stayed locked to his computer.
A door opening and closing signaled that Kim Seokjin, his older cousin, was awake and moving through his “morning” routine. Jungkook was used to Jin waking late as his job as a chef at an upscale Seoul restaurant often meant he worked late nights through the week. Their other housemate and longtime friend, Jung Hoseok, had been awake and long gone to his job at the dance academy before Jungkook had woken.
Continuing to make minor adjustments to the image currently on his screen, Jungkook was close to adding it to the list of finished items.
“You’re going to the grocery store today, right?” Jin asked, walking into Jungkook’s work area.
“Yeah, when I go to pick up Hobi. You make a list?” Jungkook leaned back in his chair, eyeing his cousin as he rubbed a towel over his damp black hair.
“Yeah, it’s on the kitchen counter. Did you take Hobi to work this morning?”
“Nah, I offered, but he said he’d just catch the bus.”
Jin rolled his eyes, a small smile softening the words that followed. “You friggin morning people with your love of sunshine and birds singing annoying little songs outside your windows.”
Jungkook raised a finger to his cousin. “Whoa. No, no. Don’t you dare lump me in with morning people.”
“You were awake and at that desk by 8:00. Guaranteed,” Jin stated, resting the towel around his neck.
“Yeah, for my job,” Junkook argued. “I have a deadline today. I’d never catch a 6:00 a.m. bus because there’s a good view of the sunrise from the bus stop.”
“Fine, but you like birds,” Jin huffed, turning to go back to his room to finish getting ready.
Jungkook shrugged. “What’s wrong with birds?” he asked quietly, thinking Jin was out of hearing range.
“They’re loud!” Jin called back.
“They’re pretty!” Jungkook returned, saving and closing out of the graphic he’d finished.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Jin came back to the room. “The only pretty thing I need is me, and don’t you forget it.” With that he spun on his heel and marched back to his room.
Jungkook grinned, pushed a strand of red hair off his forehead, and opened one of the remaining images. He and Jin had both moved to Seoul from Busan after coming of age to pursue work. Jin had always been a talented cook and after a formal training period, during which time he’d met dance student Jung Hoseok and formed a fast friendship, had landed a job within which he’d happily grown for the past six years, stretching his culinary wings and never tiring of cooking elaborate meals for his friends on his weekends off.
Jungkook, interested in traditional painting, but also being talented at computers, had studied graphic design and started freelancing in it while still in college. He enjoyed it well enough and was good at it, but it was mostly a necessity that provided financial stability while he attempted to become a successful painter. A dream that had, so far, not come to fruition.
He’d moved in with Jin and Hobi when he’d gotten into university to help save money. Jungkook had planned on finding his own apartment upon graduation, but the three had grown so used to each other and the arrangement had worked so well that Jin and Hobi suggested Jungkook stay. Having family near was important for both Jin and Jungkook, and Hobi was already an honorary member, so it was decided.
Forty-five minutes later, Jungkook had finished with the last images and was writing the email to return with his finished work, attaching an invoice and instructions for the final payment, happy to be done with the job.
Jin emerged once again from his room, jingling his keys. “I’m off.” He picked up his bag from the hallway closet and slung it over his shoulder. “Whatever you do, do NOT let Hoseok get frozen fish, it is not the same, I don’t care what he says, I will not have it in this house.”
“I promise.” Jungkook gave a definite nod, standing with his sketchbook under one arm. He strode into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea.
“And no pre-shredded cheese,” Jin added, following.
“Because pre-shredded is for people with no upper-body strength and who suffer mediocre texture and flavor because of it,” Jungkook finished for him.
“That’s right.” Jin gave a nod and walked over to give his cousin a hug. “Okay. I’m going. Have fun sketching, be careful picking up Hobi, don’t fuck up my kitchen.”
Jungkook hugged him back quickly. “Will do, will do, won’t do. Cook good.”
Jin, in a whirlwind of wide shoulders and hair flipping, called back “You know it!” before stepping out their front door.
Jungkook stared out the kitchen window at the bright blue early-August sky while he waited for his water to boil. He had a couple of hours to work on sketches before he needed to leave to collect Hobi and groceries. He’d been working on a series of portraits, which had pushed him out of his comfort zone. He wasn’t bad at drawing and painting people. Far from it. But the thing that made portraits interesting and really worth viewing was the artist’s ability to capture and portray something intrinsic in the subject’s nature.
That was what gave Jungkook a difficult time. He was certainly friendly, but his shy nature had kept him from making many friends, even at university where he shared many classes with the same people for years. He'd only had one friend that he'd hung out with with any regularity and it'd been some time since he'd talked to her. He wasn’t much of a partier and preferred to have evenings in playing videogames or watching movies with Hobi and weekends with Hobi, Jin, and an occasional friend of theirs that he never really needed to talk to.
Jungkook noticed all kinds of things about Jin and Hobi that neither one had actually told him outright. For instance, it’d only taken him a few short weeks to realize that they were both gay, though not in a relationship with each other. If Jin had ever mentioned it to their family, it certainly wasn’t talked about around Jungkook, and Jin had never spoken of it to him. So it came as a shock to both of his roommates when, in the middle of a Saturday night dinner, he casually mentioned that he, too, was interested in men, when they asked him if he’d met any women at school he was into.
Hobi choked on the piece of kimchi he’d eaten. “What do you mean ‘I'm gay, too’?”
Jungkook had shrugged. “You’re both gay. I was just saying I am, too.”
Hobi turned to Jin. “Did you tell him?”
Jin was slightly less taken aback by his cousin’s announcement. “Nah. I kinda guessed he was. Gay dudes just vibe different.”
“If by ‘vibe different’ you mean ‘gaze too intently at Kim Hyun-joong’ then, yeah, gay dudes vibe different.” Jungkook shrugged and continued eating.
Hobi, always quick to laugh, had only chuckled at this, but the tension that had been beginning to form in his shoulders noticeably lessoned. Jin, on the other hand, found Jungkook’s blunt statement hilarious.
Aside from this, Jungkook picked up easily on different clues in their personalities while living with them long before there was any real proof. He was good at reading people. The problem was that he was horrible at talking to them long enough to get that time. Sometimes he didn’t know what to say; sometimes the thought of meeting someone new seemed a little exhausting when he was perfectly happy with his current friends and job. But this meant that it was harder for him to read people easily when he was sketching them. He had trouble finding what to ask them. As for an unknown subject, he had very little luck at figuring them out at all. He agreed with his favorite university professor, technical perfection didn’t mean much if there was no life.
The whistling of the kettle let him know that his water was ready. He quickly dropped a mint tea bag into his cup and poured in the water. Collecting his cup and sketchbook, he stopped at his desk long enough to grab a set of coal pencils he’d almost forgotten and made his way to the little rooftop terrace that shared the second floor with his bedroom. He was the only one who stayed on the second floor—Jin and Hobi preferred their rooms on the ground floor where it tended to stay cooler in the summer. Jungkook loved having this little deck so close to his room and often spent sleepless nights outside sketching, reading, or just gazing at the lights of the more densely populated area of Seoul.
Falling into one of the deck chairs, Jungkook pulled his feet up underneath him, sipped his tea, and opened his sketchbook to a page that held a coal drawing of a smiling Hobi. The image of his grinning friend brought the same expression to his own face and he’d hoped that this meant he had succeeded in capturing some of Hoseok’s good nature and friendliness in this attempt.
Happily soaking in the sun, Jungkook set to deciding on and filling in some background details in the picture. He worked on it for a while before turning to another piece he’d done of an elderly woman in the park. This one he was much less satisfied with, but he’d enjoyed watching her as she sprinkled some corn for the ducks swimming in the water. He concentrated on it, trying to add details to bring more of the peacefulness he’d felt watching her to the picture.
After a while, his phone buzzed with the alarm he’d set, signaling it was time to head to the dance academy. He set his empty cup in the sink, grabbed Jin’s list from the counter, and put his sketchpad and pencils into his messenger bag to take with him, as was his habit. Stopping long enough to pull on a pair of boots, he grabbed his keys, checked to make sure his bright red hair looked somewhat presentable in the hallway mirror, and headed out of the house.
It wasn’t quite rush hour in Seoul, but it was getting close. The drive to Hobi’s academy took half an hour on a good day and Jungkook had allowed for forty-five minutes. Tapping the steering wheel to the music he’d brought, he maneuvered calmly through the streets until he pulled into the staff parking lot of Hobi’s work. Surprisingly, he was early. Almost exactly thirty minutes. Grabbing his phone, he sent a quick message to Hobi that he’d arrived and started scrolling through his social media accounts. This mostly meant looking at the new artwork posted by other artists or former classmates he followed on Instagram. A few minutes later a message came through.
HobiHobi: Cool. Could you help me carry some stuff to the car?
HobiHobi: I’m bringing them to the door, if you can load them in the back seat.
Jungkookie: Of course.
Jungkook tossed his phone into the passenger seat, glancing into the back to make sure it was empty, and quickly opened his door. Unfortunately, his door opened into a space that someone was already occupying. And that someone was promptly relocated, after a few stumbles, to the pavement.
Jungkook climbed quickly out of his car. “I’m so sorry,” he said quickly to the blond man. “I wasn’t looking. I’m so sorry.”
The man sitting on the pavement was looking down, slightly stunned. He paused before giggling a little. “It’s okay,” a soft voice lilted up to Jungkook. “I’m okay, no harm done.” He finally lifted his eyes, running a hand back through his hair, which Jungkook realized was damp, to look at his aggressor and froze. Almost immediately Jungkook’s mouth went dry and his brain stopped functioning.
Jungkook looked down into warm, deep brown eyes that were currently held open in slight shock. It didn’t last long before they closed slightly as his face lit up in the most beautiful smile Jungkook had ever seen on the most beautiful face Jungkook had ever seen.
Jungkook was mildly aware of screams of laughter that had been coming from near the building, but all he could concentrate on was the man on the ground in front of him and his heart tripling in speed in his chest.
----------------
Park Jimin did not care for mornings. Park Jimin didn’t like waking up. Park Jimin didn’t like the academy scheduling him to teach a contemporary dance class at 8:00 a.m. simply because the instructor who was meant to teach the class had decided to leave to move to Daegu. But Park Jimin was, nevertheless, sitting in the kitchen at 7:00 a.m., semi-ready for the first day of class, downing a cup of coffee to try to make the hellish hour seem more appealing. It wasn’t working.
The sound of the door opening and closing alerted him that his best friend/soulmate/roommate and all around obnoxious Morning Person, Kim Taehyung was probably back from his morning walk in the park. Instead, Jimin heard a different voice.
“Oh, thank God, you have some ready.” Min Yoongi, his own cup in hand, helped himself to the pot of coffee.
“What are you doing awake?” Jimin asked.
“We have to go in early today for a meeting. New assignments,” Yoongi answered, taking a drink. “Joon broke our coffee pot, but you’ve come through.”
Min Yoongi and Kim Namjoon were the residents of the other half of the duplex that Jimin and Tae lived in. They both wrote and produced music for the same studio, often working together. They’d also attended university together which is how they’d ended up as roommates.
Jimin and Tae had also been attending school, though different ones, when they’d ended up roommates. Each hadn’t known the other when they’d moved into the duplex, and it’d taken weeks for them to really speak to each other as they were each caught up in their own classes. Neither one was particularly interested in being friends or used to the idea of living with someone other than a family member.
Then one night at two a.m., Jimin had awoken to a loud noise in the kitchen. Upon investigation, he’d found Tae, electric blender in hand, covered in flour.
“What the hell?” He’d asked, blearily.
“I have writers block and wanted cake.”
The sight of the obviously exhausted man standing there looking ridiculous in all that white powder caused Jimin to burst out laughing, the stress of newness and discomfort of the last few weeks fading from his body.
“Oh, my…. Oh, my God, you look insane,” he’d sputtered out without thinking. For a moment there was no reaction from his roommate, but then a giant smile spread across Taehyung’s face and he joined in the laughter. The two had fed into each other’s giddiness and they continued for several minutes before there was a knock at the door. They both quieted and Jimin looked through the window to see two men that he vaguely recognized as their neighbors. He quickly opened the door to a tall, pleasant looking man, and a shorter, mildly terrifying one.
“Are. You. Fucking. High?” the shorter one asked.
“He meant to say, is everything alright?” the taller added with a soft smile.
Both were in sleepwear and had obviously been woken up by the laughter.
“I’m so sorry,” Jimin apologized. “My roommate was trying to make a cake and he had a rather hilarious mishap.”
The two men looked around Jimin into the kitchen where Tae stood looking guilty with wide apologetic eyes.
The shorter man sighed. “You have to add the dry ingredients a little at a time.”
Jimin blinked. “What?”
He waved a hand and passed by Jimin, walking quickly to the kitchen and leaving his baffled friend on the doorstep. “I’ll show you.”
“You’ll what?” a startled Taehyung asked.
“Do you want a cake or do you want a cake?” he asked in a calm, low voice. “Put down the blender, your privileges are suspended. I’m Yoongi.”
Jimin turned back to the man still on his doorstep. “Um…”
“He’s cranky when he’s woken up. I’m Namjoon, by the way.”
“Jimin. Wanna come in?” Jimin smiled and motioned into the house.
Namjoon, smiling at the ridiculousness, accepted the offer.
None of them had slept that night, but they’d all eaten the cake. Despite the fact that none of them had virtually anything in common, they’d become oddly close. Yoongi wasn’t nearly as terrifying as they thought, but rather pensive and blunt. Namjoon, which they’d eventually shortened to Joon, was sweet and wildly intelligent. Jimin’s kindness and intelligence meant he could become fast friends with nearly anyone open to it. What they’d all perceived as Tae’s weirdness they learned was just his unique way of looking at life and the world and it made him a talented writer who’d had two novels published in the six years that they’d lived in Seoul.
Jimin and Tae realized shortly after how lucky they were that they’d ended up roommates and they grew closer the more they’d talked. A year into their friendship, when Jimin finally worked up the courage to confess that he was gay, Tae just hugged him.
“I know,” Tae said, quietly. “So are Yoongi and Joon.”
Jimin’s eyes widened. “They are?”
“Yes,” Tae nodded. “I notice everything. Kinda surprised you haven’t noticed some of the guys Yoongi brings home.”
“Huh.”
“I’m not, by the way,” Tae added.
Jimin jumped back, breaking the hug. “Oh, no, I know, I didn’t mean anything like that.”
Tae smiled. “I know. But you came ‘out’ to me, so I came ‘in’ to you.”
“Please don’t say it like that,” Jimin said, choking back a laugh.
Tae scrunched his nose. “Yeah, I didn’t quite think that one through. I stand by it, though. I can be the Token Straight Guy.”
Jimin looked down at his almost empty cup and stood for a refill.
“You’re not usually up this early, either,” Yoongi said, shaking his still damp silver hair and taking another deep drink from his cup.
“First day of class.”
“On a Friday?” Yoongi asked, incredulous.
“It’s kind of a break in and introduce everyone day before really diving in. Just the academy trying something new. Anyway, an instructor moved to Daegu and there was no one to fill in for her. So me. I blame Daegu.”
“Hey!” Two voices chimed at the same time, as Tae walked into the kitchen from his bedroom.
“It’s not Daegu’s fault,” Tae defended his and Yoongi’s hometown.
“It is while I’m cranky,” Jimin stated. “I thought you were out on your walk.”
“I got back while you were brushing your teeth,” Tae replied.
Jimin looked at the clock above the stove. “Ugh,” he moaned. “I have to go or I’ll be late.” He gulped at the coffee in his cup.
Tae’s face twisted into a disgusted look. “We need to talk about your filthy coffee habit.”
Yoongi held up a hand to him, “Don’t ruin it for Daegu entirely. Stay in your lane.”
Jimin arrived to his morning class with a stunning ten minutes to spare. He changed quickly and did some stretches to chase away the last of the fatigue from his body. As the students, aging from mid to late teens, though not advanced level, began to file in, he noticed they looked tired but ready to learn. That was a combo he could work with, anyway.
The class went unexpectedly smoothly and Jimin had a short break before moving rooms to one of his regular semester classes—a modern ballet class with students aged around ten to fifteen.
In the afternoon, he would have another contemporary class with older, advanced students to end his day. Teaching three classes meant being alert to far more students than he was used to, but so far he didn’t think it would be too difficult. They all seemed like talented kids and he was patient enough to notice when they needed help and when they simply needed to work something out on their own. Jimin wasn’t a fan of hovering and making the students feel self-conscious. They’d be getting that enough from other instructors and once they entered the work force.
After his second class ended, Jimin waved the students out and started to think about what to do for lunch.
“Hey, you have a break?” He heard a voice call from the classroom doorway. He turned to see his friend and fellow instructor, Hoseok, or Hobi as he’d been told to call him. Hobi taught hip hop and street style classes at the academy. He had an infectious smile, a friendly personality, and was quite possibly the loudest person Jimin had met in his entire life.
The two had become fast friends when they each expressed admiration for each other’s styles rather than trying to imply that their own was better. It wasn’t necessarily the rule in dance, but each had found that mentality to be typical. They’d been supportive of each other ever since and even spent some time teaching each other some of their own skills.
“Yeah,” Jimin replied. “Lunch?”
“Yeeeeeeeaaaaaah,” Hobi replied with an animated hip wiggle.
On the way to the cafeteria, they chatted about the winter showcase, which was the main focus of this semester’s classes. All students would perform in the showcase, but students who excelled in the classes would have the opportunity to perform in smaller groups. The top student from each advanced class would get the honor of performing a solo. The showcase also featured solos from the instructors at the academy.
Because of their skill in each of their areas, both Jimin and Hobi were teaching an advanced class, despite their rather young ages. So far they were excited, especially since they’d had the opportunity to watch the students grow over the past couple of years.
Reaching the cafeteria, they picked out their food and made their way over to the tables reserved for instructors.
“Have you heard anything about what was up with your car?” Jimin asked. Hobi’s car had failed to start two days before. He’d had to call a tow company and Jimin had driven him home so he wouldn’t have to call for a ride.
“No news yet,” Hobi replied, taking a bit of chicken. “Still at the mechanics.”
“How’d you get here today?”
“Took the bus. It was early, but the bus stop near my house is on a hill that has a great view of the sunrise.”
Jimin scoffed. “You morning people. My best friend is like that.”
Hobi laughed. “Taehyung, right?”
Jimin nodded. “You have a ride home?”
“Yeah, Kookie is coming after my last class.”
“Is that the chef or the artist?”
“Artist. I think you’d get along with him, actually,” Hobi added. “This reminds me that I have some old boom boxes to take home and add some flare to.”
“Boom boxes?” Jimin asked, his own chicken and rice halfway to his mouth. “As in… boom boxes?”
“Yes!” Hobi nearly yelled. “Look, iPods are neat and everything, but a former student brought in three awesome boom boxes, they’re huge, and quite frankly, hip hop just feels better blasting out of one of them.”
Jimin laughed. “I believe you. That’s kinda cool. Show these kids with their new-fangled gadgets what they’re missing?”
“Yes,” Hobi replied, grinning. “And I’m taking them home to dress them up a bit. Add some fun to it.” He took another bite. “And make sure they work, for that matter.”
Jimin’s laughter rang through the cafeteria and a few students looked over toward them, smiling at the friends.
Done with lunch they each made their way toward the rooms for their last classes, wishing each other a successful class as they went their separate ways.
Jimin’s advanced contemporary class was filled with returning students he’d taught before and he was excited to see all of them again. It was also a little bittersweet as this would be the last year he’d be teaching them as they’d, ideally, be joining dance companies or finding other work. The winter showcase would bring in many recruiters who would vie for the best dancers and the next semester would see the next level of students move up to go through the same process for the summer showcase in late May.
As the last class wound down and he bid them a good weekend, Jimin realized that the academy may have planned for his new early morning contemporary class to be the group he would chose the next advanced dancers from. He cheered at the possibility and made a note to ask the administration about it the next week. That might make the early time a little easier to bear.
He picked up his duffle bag and moved to the staff shower area to clean himself before changing into the clothes he’d worn that morning. Showering and changing quickly, he donned his black ripped jeans, boots, and his bright blue long-sleeved shirt. He was gathering his things when Hobi came in, already showered, to find his backpack that he’d left in the corner.
“How was your last class?” Jimin asked.
“Great! This semester is going to be amazing, I can feel it,” Hobi replied, brightly. He took out his phone and quickly started typing something as they walked toward the doors.
Jimin spied the three boom boxes Hobi had mentioned earlier. “Need some help carrying them out?”
“Nah,” Hobi replied. “Kookie can help. He’s just outside. Thanks though.”
“No problem,” Jimin waved and walked toward the doors while Hobi stopped. “See you next week.”
“You know it,” Hobi replied.
Jimin pushed out through the door, turning his face to the sun and began the walk across the parking lot to his car. He hefted his duffle higher on his shoulder and started to move quickly between two cars when the driver’s side door flew open and slammed into him. Jimin tried to catch himself to keep from falling, but went down anyway.
Slightly stunned, Jimin simply stared at the ground and his legs for a moment while the man got out of the car, apologizing to him.
Behind him he heard Hobi break out into laughter, surely having seen the incident. He let out a giggle of his own and tried to reassure the man. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’m okay. No harm done.”
He swept his hair out of his eyes to look up at the man in front of him and his breath caught for a moment before an involuntary smile took over his face.
The man standing in front of him was covered head-to-toe in black, tattoos ran down his arm and onto his hand, and his hair was bright red. The whole look was totally in contrast with the wide, kind eyes and concern etched onto the face. That look was suddenly turning to shock as he looked down at Jimin.
Jimin just smiled back. This man was gorgeous. This man could have knocked him on his ass without the car door.
This man made the half-dead butterflies in Jimin’s stomach perk up and try for life.
Hobi’s laughter got even louder as he moved closer to them. “That was…” he started, covering his mouth. “That was…” he tried again, finally reaching them and putting his hand on the hood of the car to steady himself. “That was perfect. I’m so glad I got to witness that.” He turned to Jimin. “Are you okay?”
Jimin turned his gaze from the man in front of him to look at Hobi. “I’m fine.” He realized he was still just sitting there and, turning back to grab his duffle, pulled himself to his feet again.
“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook started again.
“No,” Jimin said, waving off his apology. “Really, I’m good. It was an accident.”
Hobi clapped a couple times. “Well done, Kookie.”
Jimin glanced quickly at Hobi and back to the red-haired man in front of him. “Wait,” he said, smiling. “You’re Kookie?”
Jungkook finally managed to break his stare and glanced at the ground before looking back up. “Um, Jungkook, actually.”
Hobi glanced between the two and grinned. “Sorry,” he said. “Jimin, this is Jungkook: roommate, amazing artist, basically family, whom I call Kookie. Jungkook, this is Jimin: friend, wildly talented dancer, fellow instructor here, and now victim of your klutziness.”
Jimin held out a hand and Jungkook, with blessedly less embarrassing timing than he had with car doors, shook it.
“You’re Jimin, then,” Jungkook said, suddenly. Jimin looked at him questioningly. “Uh, Hobi has mentioned you a few times. Says you’re a wonderful dancer.”
Jimin smiled brightly. “I take that as a great compliment coming from him.” He leaned closer to Jungkook before adding in a fake whisper, “He’s kinda strict with his students.”
Jungkook broke into a smile at that. “I believe you. He tried to give me a few lessons one time.”
Jimin laughed. “Yet you live.”
Jungkook nodded a bit, but was unsure if the statement could stand as he let his eyes travel downward a bit and noticed that Jimin’s jeans were
very
very
tight.
Jungkook’s eyes flew back up to Jimin’s face and he was determined to keep them there, but he wondered if he’d been caught as the smile Jimin was suddenly giving him was slightly on the knowing side.
“I’m not that bad,” Hobi picked up. “You’d think I’d left you sobbing in a corner somewhere. And you weren’t bad, actually.” He turned to Jimin. “Natural rhythm, but always elbow deep in paint.”
“That’s not fair,” Jungkook defended, rolling his eyes. “I’m elbow deep in charcoal, too.”
Jimin laughed, throwing his head back and going a little off balance. The laugh surprised Jungkook a little but he smiled along, noticing how Jimin’s face lit up even brighter. His fingers twitched a little—he desperately wanted to sketch Jimin.
Jimin quieted a bit. “Hobi has told me that your work is amazing. I’d love to see it sometime. Do you have any pieces around town?”
Jungkook shifted on his feet. “Oh, no, not yet.” He blushed, turning his eyes away. “Still just figuring out my style really.”
“He’s a chicken shit,” Hobi interpreted for him.
Jimin looked a little stunned, but Jungkook chuckled lowly.
“He’s not necessarily wrong,” Jungkook admitted, used to Hobi’s honesty.
Jungkook scrunched his nose, lowered his head, and smiled shyly at Jimin, looking at him though dark lashes. The sweetness of the look made the butterflies in Jimin’s stomach start scuttling around.
It made Jimin want to spend more time looking at Jungkook’s smile.
Hobi’s grin kept growing as he glanced between his two friends who were now rather awkwardly attempting and failing not to stare at each other. “So, um, I bet Jimin would like to get going and I know we have groceries to get so Jin doesn’t flay us and cook us instead.”
“Yeah,” Jimin said, taking a step back. “It was good to meet you, Jungkook.”
Jungkook nodded, quickly. “You, too, Jimin. Finally.”
They smiled at each other again and Jungkook moved to the side to let Jimin pass.
As Jimin walked away Jungkook turned for one last glance, before quickly turning back to Hobi. “So, he seems really nice.”
“Uh, huh.” Hobi grinned.
Jungkook paused. “Are you, uh, ready to go.”
Hobi relented and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, just help me with these boom boxes.”
“Sure.” Jungkook followed him up to the doors. He leaned down to pick up the first one while Hobi went in to grab another.
They loaded them into the backseat of the car and Jungkook ran up to grab the third one.
“You know,” Hobi said, a knowing look on his face, as Jungkook loaded the last stereo. “After you turned around from checking Jimin out one last time, he turned around to check out your ass.”
“He what?” Jungkook nearly screeched, coming back out of the car too quickly and smacking his head on the door frame.
Hobi winced. “Oh, well, I guess that’s payback for smacking Jimin with the whole damn door.”