Chapter Text
“Jeon Jeongguk! Pick up an eraser and start erasing the writings on the chalk board.”
Ever since Jeon Jeongguk was younger, he was always lured to the feeling of the chalk dust settling in his palms, and the weight of carrying heavy books from one classroom to another. It was one of the little delights Jeongguk found in those honey-dew lit classrooms of his youth.
When his homeroom teacher witnessed him carrying twenty books at once towards the third floor faculty room at the age of ten, he realized that the boy that stood in front of him was bound to be a weightlifting prodigy.
And so he was.
From lifting heavy sacks of flour to his father’s bakery and the beaming competition stage carrying a barbell over his head and the scent of metal lingering in his calloused hands, Jeongguk knew that this was the place he belonged to.
Today marks the second year of his athletic life at Deukjeong University. When he wakes up in his pajamas, he finds the dining table filled with a heavy mix of rice bowls, soup, and kimchi-jjigae that seemed to reach his nostrils before his eyes could ever do.
“Ya, open your eyes! It’s already morning, stop lazing around.” His older brother scolded him with a light smack on his shoulder, making him wince slightly in pain as he settled down to his assigned seat at the dining table.
The weightlifter yawned, rubbing his eyes lazily before he wiped the dried saliva on the corner of his cheek.
“Good morning to you too, Seokjin-hyung.” Jeongguk addressed his presence in a lazily, husky tone that sent his older brother into an immediate, early-morning fit. “Next time, you should wash your face and tidy up before going downstairs to eat! It seems almost as if you are automatically drawn to the smell of food..!”
Jeongguk rolled his eyes as he picked up the metal chopsticks by the rice bowl and began helping himself to the carbohydrates. He took a closer look at the surroundings of his small, delicate house, seeing how memorabilia of his former competitions hung in the hallway like a small museum dedicated to his achievements, most of which were arranged carefully by his older brother while their father worked in the bakery they owned beside their house.
Although they couldn’t admit it, having those medals displayed out in the hallway seemed almost as if it was living proof that Jeongguk was their only hope of achieving success out of the poverty they were living in.
They weren’t struggling, but they also had a clear understanding that with the heavy demand of property ownership nowadays, they had to keep up with the rising economy.
His older brother dropped out of college for the sake of taking care of household matters, including the part-time job of taking care of the bakery.
Their father wasn’t getting any younger, that was a known fact, and that the assistance was necessary. It was also an obligation he took on so that Jeongguk could freely exercise his talent in weightlifting in one of the most prestigious sports universities in the country.
Seokjin invited himself over to the seat across Jeongguk’s, slipping out of his white cooking apron in the process and tossing it to the seat beside him.
“I still don’t understand the name. Deukjeong.”
Jeongguk chuckled lightly in response. “Deuk as in Deuk-jeom, like scoring a point sports-wise.” Seokjin listened to him attentively, but part of him was blindsided by the way his younger brother spoke in uncertainty.
“And then Jeong, as in like a team bond. It’s something related to the core values of the university, I don’t know.”
When he retreated back to the creaking wooden stairs that led to his room, Jeongguk allowed himself to freshen up for the day. He stepped on the digital weighing scale by the bathroom, wincing in displeasure as the weight flashes itself before his eyes.
I need to start bulking up. He took a mental note of it, remembering how his coach had scolding him for drastically losing weight the year before.
I have a fast metabolism, as the excuse left him, but the coach took no consideration.
Jeongguk trailed down the stairs after a lengthy shower, wet hair dripping down his university jacket as the aroma of caramelized sugar and yeast hung thick in the air. He wore Calvin Klein jeans that seemed to hug his figure more than it did the year before, but he was in too much of a rush to contemplate his fashion taste.
“Hey! Stick this in your backpack.” Seokjin rushed over to Jeongguk before he could step out of the door, zipping his black backpack open and stuffing a brown paper bag inside. The athlete crunched his face up in irritation.
“I don’t need more sugar.”
“Nonsense. You can never run out of it.” Seokjin shook his head as he ruffled his younger brother’s damp hair, who was already squirming in utter frustration. “Take care of yourself, Gguk.”
“Thanks for breakfast, hyung. I’ll come by during the weekends.” Jeongguk bids his farewell before his mind automatically snaps back to the reality in front of him as he pulls out his keys, sticking it in the engine of his motorbike and revving up the engine. Then he rode off the cold morning of the spring.
It was a new season, and Jeongguk knew that. He had always promised himself that a new season was a declaration of a new beginning for him, that the mistakes and errors he committed in the last would be used so he could achieve better and greater things ahead of him.
⌞ ⌝
Jeongguk wrapped the wrist straps around his rough skin, eyeing his friend from the bench as he wore the lifting belt below his torso. Yoongi was quick to notice him staring. “Did you gain any weight this winter?”
“Hardly.” Jeongguk answered without hesitation, knowing that Yoongi wasn’t quick to judge with his fluctuated weight training. They had been friends since he was a freshman. “If anything, I only lost more. I’ve been trying to bulk up, but my metabolism says otherwise.”
“Then you need to fight against it.” Yoongi answered with a practiced response, knowing that the younger weightlifter would be seeking advice one way or another. “Stock up on meat and carbohydrates, and avoid restroom breaks. You know how bowel movement doesn’t distribute the weight well.”
Jeongguk huffed an exasperated sigh. “Come on, I’m already earning enough scolding from Coach Yang. Give me a break, hyung.”
“We’re athletes, Jeongguk-ah.” Yoongi pulled himself up from the bench before cracking a smile towards the younger male, walking over to the weightlifting pad where the barbells were stationed. When Jeongguk looks at him in a clearer perspective, he comes to realize that his muscles became more prominent over the winter break.
“We hardly get any. It’s time you get used to this type of practice.”
Namjoon walked over to where they were stationed, fingers brazing over his own wrist straps as he eyed the Jeongguk who was still in the process of applying chalk on his palms.
“Double-time, Jeon. Coach Yang said we need to work harder in the following weeks to build muscle. Competition is drawing closer than you think.”
Jeongguk hands him a half-hearted nod as he dusts off the excessive chalk off his palms, picking himself up from the comfort of the bench and heading towards a free barbell. His hand slid across the cold metal, and for a moment Jeongguk felt the bolts of euphoria rush through his veins momentarily.
He knew that despite the tiresome training the weightlifting brought was worth it every time the weight goes beyond his head level successfully.
His arms snap rhythmically, bending just at the right angle for him to steady his posture and breathing before he attempts to lift it, but the weight comes crashing down all at once when he realizes his muscles aren’t developed enough to support that kind of force. He drops it at the first attempt, groaning slightly at the muscle pull.
“Easy, Gguk. Don’t push yourself.”
Yoongi makes sure to keep a lingering eye on Jeongguk, carefully watching him from his peripheral vision.
And so he attempted again, but the second and third attempt seemed to be as unsuccessful as the last. Jeongguk muttered incoherent curses at himself as he ran calloused, frustrated hands over his black hair in despair.
When the morning drills ends, Jeongguk finds himself seated next to Yoongi once again as they remove wrist straps in silence. The sound of velcro and fabric seemed to be louder when the exhaustion stretches between their distance.
“Let’s eat out tonight.” Yoongi notices the frown formed on the edges of Jeongguk’s chapped lips, and the offer seemed to have brought back the gleaming eyes that the younger male seemed to always carry. “You need the energy. Don’t be too discouraged, it’s only the first day back from winter break.”
“You’re right.” Jeongguk nodded his head in agreement as he picked up his gym bag. “I just need a jog to wake my muscles.”
“Don't forget to eat properly, team! We'll train even harder tomorrow.” Coach Yang's voice echoes across the gym. Her voice is hoarse but loud and commanding, her familiar ponytail hanging in the air as she beams a proud smile.
When the athletes bid their goodbye, Coach Yang stops Jeongguk. “Jeongguk, come here.”
Jeongguk swallows nervously as he walks over to her, hands clasped together. “Yes, coach?”
“Have you moved up your weight yet?” She brought out a clipboard that Jeongguk could recognize well-enough was an information sheet.
Jeongguk was hesitant, but he shook his head. The coach hissed in irritation. “You need to start bulking up if you want to move up a weight class. You have potential, Jeongguk. Don't waste it.”
The words hang heavy in the air when Jeongguk meets up with Yoongi outside the gym. “Got another earful?”
“Pretty much.” Jeongguk sighs through gritted teeth, rubbing a sore hand over his eyelids. “Only means I have to build more muscle over time. I just need to reach a new weight class before competition week.”
“That's tough.” Yoongi makes a small comment on it. He knew moving up a weight class was harder than dropping to one, the familiarity of it was still anew in his memories.
“I had to move up to 62 kilos as well last year. I'm just trying my best to maintain that kind of weight.”
“You're lucky, hyung.” Jeongguk made an exaggerated pout on his lips. “At least you're done with it.”
The walk back to the dorm was lengthy, but Yoongi’s conversation seemed to have kept them both company as the spring breeze brushed against their cheeks, painting the skin pink from the cold atmosphere. Jeongguk tucked cold hands inside his puffer jacket as they navigated the new dorm building.
“I heard we’re sharing with a bunch of different sports departments.” Yoongi brought up casually when they reached the entrance of the building. Jeongguk’s eyebrows knit together almost automatically. “Really? Why?”
“Most of our department graduated out of the dormitories, so they needed to merge the least amount of athletes together to save space.”
That seemed to make more sense than it should be. Surely nobody’s been interested in pursuing weightlifting. The effort is demanding enough, and the athletic world seems to respect them less because of the difference in practices.
Most sports are functioned to shed more weight to be able to perform better. Weightlifting requires weight gain for the muscle to build. That kind of training affects social life as well as appearance.
But to Jeongguk, it didn’t matter. Appearances were out of the way, and he’s been resolved with that fact for as long as he could remember.
⌞ ⌝
Taehyung knew the water was what kept him safe.
Even though the laps seemed to frustrate his lungs more than it did to his muscles, he only kept moving forward. When his goggles fogged up under the water, he only allowed his arms to cycle the current for him.
When his hand touches the edge of the pool, he rises from the surface and takes a heavy breath. He removed his goggles, eyeing his coach who stood above him with a timer in hand.
“Faster laps, Kim. You need to work more on speed, not power.”
Taehyung bit his lip in disappointment, only nodding in agreement as his coach walked away to scold another swimmer.
“Park, keep up the speed, but you need more breathing control. Constantly lifting your head over the water takes time.”
When the coach leaves to the furthest side of the pool, Bogum lets out a breathy laugh. “Looks like our coach's out for everyone's asses today. Not even sparing star swimmer Kim Taehyung.”
The tone is playful, but the tease doesn't amuse Taehyung. Not even slightly.
Taehyung shrugged his bare shoulders. “I would be more surprised if he wasn't. It's the first day after winter break.”
Bogum picked himself up from the pool, water trailing down his body as he walked over to the towel rack. Taehyung followed behind him, shaking water off his legs when his friend tossed him a towel.
“How's your mother doing?”
“Still picking up more shifts than she should.” Taehyung replies faster than usual, to skip over the conversation regarding his mother. He didn't want to keep his vulnerability exposed, even to his close friend.
Bogum lets out a low groan as they walk over to the locker room, a wet trail of footprints left behind. “This university's getting more expensive than it should be.”
The frustration built itself in Taehyung's system as he removed his swimming cap and goggles, shoving it into his locker before he hopped into the shower to wash the chlorine off his body. The practice had been routine, but every time he went under the water, he only rose to a disappointment arriving right in his face.
When he changes back into dry clothes, he makes his way out of the pool and towards the dormitory building. Taehyung felt the air chilling down the surface of his skin as he walked outside, groaning in discomfort.
His luggage arrives in the lobby along with a few others, but Taehyung was smart enough to put a tag around his with the initials KTH engraved on it. And that he did, dragging along a heavy teal suitcase behind him as he dug inside the pockets of his shorts for his phone.
When he opened it to view his dormitory room, disappointment slaps his face harshly.
4th floor. Taehyung huffed in frustration, leaning against the wall as he looked at his luggage, contemplating whether or not he should carry a 20 kilo luggage up a flight of stairs in a building that lacks elevators.
“Jeez, what was I thinking packing all these clothes..” Taehyung cursed himself internally, running a hand through his hair as he bit his bottom lip.
Let's just get this over with. Taehyung stuffed his phone back in his pocket, picking up the handle of his luggage and began his ascent. The first flight to the second floor was bearable, but some steps towards the second floor became more effort-inducing than the last.
At the same time, Jeongguk was just on his way down to do jogs, humming a soft tune over the song playing by his wired earphones. The comfort was that he resided on the third floor, meaning that the travel time was faster than usual.
But then he stopped in the middle of his descent upon seeing a particularly struggling athlete carrying a luggage up the threatening flight of stairs. He took up more space than he should have.
Jeongguk tilted his head to get a closer view. KTH, and whatever those initials were, it belonged to a struggling swimmer. He knew from the way his clothes reeked of chlorine, and male swimmers typically carried a leaner build.
The contrast was visible. Jeongguk's noticeable bulk seemed to have made him more conscious than it should be. But the pity he felt for the athlete seemed to weigh more than it did.
“Need help with that?”
Taehyung's head snapped up instantly out of instinct. His complaints die at his throat when he sees an intimidating sophomore in front of him, but he carried sweet-like softness in his looks that seemed to have complimented him well.
Cute, he was cute. Taehyung lets out a small chuckle at will. “You dainty little thing? You want to carry this?”
Jeongguk’s eyebrows rose altogether. The words came just as much as a shock to him. Dainty and little were the adjectives he had least expected people to use of him.
But it came more as insulting to him. He tugged a bud off his ear, letting the earphone hang halfway down his neck.
“I can carry that with one hand, I can assure you.”
The first-impression was short-lived when the realization hit that Taehyung did need the extra help if he wanted to reach his dorm without spending an extra hour. And so he swallowed his pride, knowing that he was about to let an adorable sophomore carry his luggage up the flight of stairs.
“Be my guest.”
And just when Taehyung was about to watch Jeongguk make a complete fool out of himself, he didn't. Jeongguk was true to his words, lifting the luggage with ease using one hand.
When Jeongguk turned around, Taehyung's bewilderment was answered by a clear stitch sewn on the back of the sophomore's black jacket.
Weightlifting Department.
Taehyung let his mouth fall open.
He couldn't believe such an innocent-looking adorable face would participate in a sport that clashes entirely with his appearance. He had the impression that most weightlifters carried this untouchable intimidation, but Jeongguk was the first to break that stereotype.
At least for Taehyung.
“Floor?”
The voice seemed to tear through the internal turmoil ongoing in his head. Taehyung cleared his throat awkwardly. “Fourth.”
They reach his floor faster than anticipated, Taehyung following behind the weightlifter when he drops his luggage and makes it bounce slightly against the floor.
“Hey!” Taehyung finally works his throat. “Be careful with that! It's expensive.”
Jeongguk doesn't care, only shooting him a cold glare. “Doesn't matter. Why bother buying expensive luggage when you can't carry it?”
Taehyung crossed his arms, defensively. “I'm not trained to carry heavy weights like you. It just so happens that I need to pack more clothes than necessary.”
He could make a clear guess that the swimmer carried trunks and swimming gear inside that luggage of his. But Jeongguk didn't bother confirming that.
“Whatever. Go back to your waters, fish.”
⌞ ⌝
Jeongguk jogs that afternoon, cold sweat pricking down his temple as the wind wipes it all away in seconds. After running a few laps, he stops by the bleachers and settles down. The metal creaks at the shift in weight when he does.
He pulls his phone out that was tucked inside the pocket of his jacket playing an upbeat tune in his earphones, seeing a new notification from Yoongi appear by the homescreen
[Yoongs]
Are we still up for meat? I've been craving streetfood. Come up to my dorm.
When he reaches Yoongi's dorm after a few minutes of walking, he knocks a few times before a small “come in!” was heard muffled inside.
Jeongguk invites himself in, seeing Yoongi sprawled on the carpeted floor soaking his calloused hands in warm water. “Just let me remove calluses first. This won't take much.”
His eyes instinctively roll over to the unoccupied bed across the room. “Roommate's not home?”
“Dance sport.” Yoongi answers flatly. “I've heard that their practices go until ten. I wouldn't expect him to get home by then.”
Jeongguk invites himself to Yoongi's bed, the foam sinking slightly when he sits on it. “So that means we're sharing the building with swimmers and dancers. That's.. new.”
Yoongi looks up at him with a confused daze. “Seriously? Swimmers?”
“Had an odd encounter with one today.” Jeongguk manages to say, his voice raspy and lazily dragging. “He called me dainty and little when I offered him help with luggage.”.
Yoongi's throat exercises a laugh before he even realizes it. “We're weightlifters. If anything, we live on the opposite end of that.”
Jeongguk lets out a huff. “Seriously, I didn't train for most of my life to be valued as dainty.”
“Well, don't take it to heart.” Yoongi chimed in. “He probably meant well. Besides, you really do have this cute face that doesn't scream weightlifter.”
The younger male's eyes widened drastically. “What's that supposed to mean?!”
Yoongi responded with a smug look on his face. “Even with that motorbike and all, you're still adorable-looking. It’s easy to distinguish your looks from the sport you’re in.”
When their discourse about whether or not Jeongguk was adorable shifted from the grumbling of stomach, they both knew that they needed to indulge in a shared common ground: food.
There's street stalls inside campus, something for the spring festival. The events centre was packed with students from different departments, but that wasn't a hindrance to their sheer determination to find good food.
The minutes pass and they find themselves settled over a corn dog stand, with Jeongguk initially planning to buy only one for himself before Yoongi interrupts and poked his head over. “Actually, make it two please. We'll have three corndogs, one for me and two for him.”
Jeongguk whines in complaint. “Hyung!”
“Weight class.” Those two words seemed to leave a bitter tone when Jeongguk interpreted it from Yoongi's mouth. “You'll need it. Besides, with that appetite of yours, I could hardly believe you could only eat one.”
And so their mission to find food was successful, but Jeongguk stared at the two steaming corndogs in each of his hands like he was preparing for battle.
“I think this year's going to be a good year.” Yoongi says proudly. Jeongguk snickered. “Agreed. The corndogs never lie.”
“No, seriously.” His tone shifts. “We just need to work harder than before and we'll bring back more awards than the rest of the departments. If we can live up to the standard of our seniors last year, it shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”
“That sounds like competition.” Jeongguk says in the middle of chewing a particularly big portion of the hot dog. “But I suppose that's part of the fighting spirit.”
“We're weightlifters, if anything, we carry most of that with us.”
⌞ ⌝
When Jeongguk came back from the communal dorm showers, he found the lobby as varied as it was before. There was a particularly odd mix of male athletes settled in, ranging from gymnastics to swim team and a minority from dance sport.
Jeongguk shook his head as he walked up the flight of stairs toward his dorm. He was quite hesitant about returning to his dorm and seeing his new roommate, but what choice does he have?
When he opens the door, he is met with a particularly strong musk he was unfamiliar with. And then it hits him. Roses and vanilla, something from a scented candle.
When he sees a particularly slender boy stretched out in splits over his bed, Jeongguk knew that he was roommates with a gymnast.
At the sound of the door opening, he lifted his head in surprise and immediately shifted his position to bow in acknowledgement.
“Sorry, I didn't see you there.”
“Oh, don't mind me.” Jeongguk bowed back, but immediately dismissed himself to his desk. “Just.. continue with your stretching.”
The boy had bangs worn down, dyed blonde hair and shoulder length but had it neatly tied in a low ponytail behind him.
Jeongguk took his jacket off and draped it over his desk seat, unknowingly showing the embroidery on it that displayed his department in full view. The gymnast from across the room was quick to spot it.
“Weightlifter, huh?”
The condescending tone made Jeongguk's head spin faster than it should, but he decided to play it out. “Yes. Weightlifting. Got a problem with that?”
The gymnast's smile drops in realization. “Oh! No, no, I didn't mean it like that! I just think it's odd that the university mixes athletes together that don't really complement each other well.”
That doesn't reassure Jeongguk. If anything, it only makes the tension between them thicker. “I don't get what you mean, but sure. The university is at fault.”
When the gymnast is done with the stretching, he sits upright on top of his folded legs. “Don't get me wrong. I admire your sport.”
The conversation nulls shortly after Jeongguk finds no need to participate in it, but the gymnast was persistent.
“I'm Jimin. I'm a gymnast, so unlike you I'm much weaker.”
Jeongguk turned his head towards him, appreciating the effort. “Jeongguk, weightlifting. Obviously.”
Why did I say that like it's not an obvious fact? Might as well put up a sign.
“Have any competitions this spring?”
“Just one. But my coach is trying to move me up a weight class.” Jeongguk shared more information that he should have, but there was something about the way Jimin's tone soothed him.
The irony wasn't lost on the gymnast. “Must be nice. My coach is trying to move me down, and said I've gained one kilo and have to burn it by tonight.”
Jeongguk winces. “Rough. That diet is insane.”
“We don't have it as harsh as the female gymnasts, but we have to maintain a specific lightness for agility.” Jimin shrugged, already in the process of tucking himself in bed.
“Goodnight, Jeongguk-ah. It's been a long day.” He blows out the candle beside his bed and puts on an eye mask.
It really has been a long day.
⌞ ⌝
The next morning, Jeongguk skips morning stretches to stack up on food before training. Yoongi drops an extra platter of beef by his table. “Eat up.”
“I can't, I'm too full.” Jeongguk groaned, clutching his stomach in despair. If anything, the diet plan was making him regret food more than ever.
“Suit yourself.” Yoongi says, inviting himself to sit down beside the younger male. “But just so you know, I'm less strict than Coach Yang. Either that or you face her ruthless weight gain program.”
And he was right. Coach Yang had been infamous for her brutal weight gain program, according to their seniors. She spared no one until the athlete had moved up weight classes within only a few weeks.
Jeongguk gathered up his courage and picked up his chopsticks like a warrior going to battle, bringing a piece of beef to his mouth.
“Attaboy.”
When Jeongguk finishes the platter, he is paralyzed on the spot. He slumps against their table in despair, Yoongi offering him half-hearted pats on the back as the other athletes pass by their table wearing looks of concern.
“I hate weight gain.” Jeongguk groaned.
“Come on, we're going to be late for morning drills.” Yoongi dragged a hand along his shoulder, shaking it. “Better burn that food into energy while we walk.”
Jeongguk was left with no choice as he carried their lunch trays towards the disposal, but with his mind preoccupied with his stomach still churning with an unearthly amount of food.
It was too late when he realized that he crashed into a hard torso of another student, clattering the empty trays down to the floor with a loud metal CLANK.
Jeongguk was ready to bury himself alive right there in the middle of the cafeteria.
The weightlifter winced vividly at the murmurs and snickers that commenced all at once as he awkwardly crouched down to pick up the trays and utensils, with Yoongi uttering small “Don't mind them” whispers as he helped him.
Jeongguk closed his eyes. God, he was so tired and full and everything just seemed to be crashing down at 7 o' clock in the morning.
And then a third pair of hands came to reach out for him.
“Watch your step, little thing.”
When he thought things just couldn't get any worse, it did.
He looked up, dreading to see the menacing look on the swimmer's face as it hovered over his head. Jeongguk gritted his teeth when he picked himself up with clenched fists.
“Who are you calling little?”
“Hey, Jeongguk-ah!” Yoongi was quick to pull Jeongguk back before he could cause a scene right in the middle of the cafeteria. The situation was already bad enough as it is, and with Jeongguk's patience hanging by a thread it might just explode right in front of everyone.
Just in time before the anger completely boiled up in his system, Yoongi pulled him outside by the arm.
“Jeez, what was that about?”
Jeongguk huffed in frustration. “That's the swimmer I've been talking about, the one calling me little.”
“Oohh.” Yoongi’s onomatopoeia left his mouth in response. “I've heard a great deal about Kim Taehyung's arrogance, but I never thought it would affect you too.”
“You know about him?”
“Sort of.” Yoongi shrugged. “His competitions appeared in a lot of local news back in Daegu. But I never thought I would be schooling with him eventually here in Seoul.”
Jeongguk's chest tightens. “I don't like him. At all. Let's make that clear.”
Yoongi raised a brow at him. “Well, you just did. No doubt about it.”
When they opened the doors of their gym, they were met with half of the athletes already dressed in the department's windbreaker jackets which could only mean one thing:
Morning runs.
Jeongguk took one look at Yoongi and they both groaned in annoyance.
“Jeon and Min, get dressed.” Namjoon orders the new arrivals. “Coach Yang wants us to run laps before training.”
They head to their lockets, taking out black windbreakers with the university logo patched on one side and on the back were their surnames.
Coach Yang arrives shortly after, shifting the gym's energy from rowdy to concentrated as they bowed to acknowledge her presence.
“Since most of you had been slacking off during the winter break and had forgotten about your diets—” Her gaze stuck solely on Jeongguk, his eyes darting away. “We'll start doing morning jogs regularly.”
There was a unison of groans and small complaints that erupted all at once when the announcement was made. When the noise settled down, the coach continued.
“Namjoon, you'll be leading the jogs at eight o'clock sharp. Anyone late after that will extend their training in the same minutes they were delayed. Understood?”
“Yes coach!” They all responded between small sighs of frustration and murmurs as they headed outside to the field.
The wind was breezy when they arrived, tinting Jeongguk's pale skin a distinct color of pink. But he pushed through it as they jogged their first lap.
“God, I’d rather curl a 100 kilogram barbell than do these laps so early in the morning.” Yoongi muttered to himself, but the volume allowed Jeongguk to nod in agreement.
On the fifth lap, Jeongguk's tense muscles began to feel wonkier. His breathing was replaced with a further determination to keep pushing forward despite his movement slowing down gradually.
“Jeon! Keep up!” Coach Yang yells loud enough for the entire department to hear. Jeongguk's cheeks burn red.
When Jeongguk stops by the bleachers for a water break, he is suddenly joined by a low whistle that pierced through him before the cold wind could.
“Good to see you here, Jeon.”
Jeongguk flinched in surprise, head snapping so fast in Taehyung's direction he almost gave himself a whiplash. When his eyes dart behind him, he realizes that half of the swim team is seated two bleachers away.
“Are you purposely following me?”
“No.” Taehyung winced. “Though, that would be nice, wouldn't it?”
Jeongguk's eyes rolled over before he could even stop himself. “Get over yourself, Kim Taehyung.”
“Our team was supposed to do laps but it seems that—” Taehyung makes an exaggerated sigh. “There's a particularly big department that beat us to it.”
Jeongguk slams his bottle down, the impact making the bleachers rattle for a second.
“Fuck off, will you? I can throw a punch at you and ruin that pretty face of yours.”
Taehyung's jaw clenches, but he sees the way Jeongguk's glare doesn't threaten him. Not when the weightlifter's nose was pink, resembling one of a bunny's, his eyebrows knitted together like an angry animal ready to pounce on him without impact.
Even though he knew that wasn't the case and that Jeongguk could knock him out like a losing Tekken character, he seemed to look the part.
“But you're just a little bunny.”
Jeongguk's jaw tightens, and then it drops in confusion. Little? and now he's calling him a bunny. It's almost insulting, and the anger flares up inside of him.
“Fuck off before I wipe that smug look off your face. Permanently.” The huff leaves Jeongguk as he marches away from the bleachers, leaving Taehyung stranded with the stupidest smile plastered on his face after successfully making Jeongguk bite his bait.
It was adorable.
⌞ ⌝
Taehyung’s speed doesn't improve, and it earns him a scolding from his coach when the morning practice is over.
“I don't know what's happening with you, Kim. But you need to practice more.” His coach said, massaging his nosebridge in frustration. Taehyung stood in front of him guilty, salty water dripping from his trunks and goggles hanging loose by his neck.
“Your strokes are sloppy, your speed is lacking, and you seem to put too much pressure on the water that the momentum is completely lost. You're falling behind and you know it.”
“Yes coach. I'm sorry.” Taehyung nodded, understanding the situation.
“Don't feel sorry for me, I'm just your coach.” He says, picking up the clipboard on his lap as he got up to leave. “But be sorry for your mother. I know how many shifts she's working just to afford your education here, and you're just slacking it off.”
The words left Taehyung completely stunned as the door closed behind the pools. He stood there, muscles sore from practice and his chest gripping tightly around his heart that thrummed violently inside him.
No, Taehyung couldn't afford to be flawed. Not when he finally caught the momentum of his career, and he needed to exercise every single stroke in the water perfectly.
This time, when Taehyung wore the goggles and dove, he dove with the sheer motivation of working himself beyond his capabilities just to prove to everyone that he was still the star swimmer of the team. He needed to live up to that.
When he was under the water, the whole world muffled above him. It's the only peace he could have with himself in a world that's tuned with noise.
In the middle of his laps, Bogum dropped by with towels. His hair is damp from the shower and he was wearing his dormitory pajamas over pool slippers. “Taehyung-ah. You alright?”
When Taehyung arose from the water, he took off his glasses and leaned by the edge of the pool. “Sorry. I thought I needed to extend training.”
Bogum doesn't answer right away, only kneeling in front of him to face him in a closer view. “Hey, don't take our coach's word to heart. Sometimes he's purposely harsh to push us even further. You're doing well.”
“I don't need to be doing well, I need to be doing perfect.” Taehyung scowled, it made Bogum lean back in surprise.
“Well, okay.” Bogum got up on his feet, deciding to leave Taehyung alone. He needed the space. “Just come back to the dorm when you're done.”
When Bogum leaves the pool, Taehyung takes a deep breath to calm himself.
What once was a peaceful exercise of his determination to success had now been annihilated into a realization that he was turning into a control freak to himself.
And Taehyung knew this wasn't the way to find his rhythm. He picks himself up from the pool and heads toward the locker rooms.
When Taehyung heads out in dry clothes, he doesn't immediately return to their dorm room. Instead, he climbs up the additional five floors of stairs up to the building rooftop terrace.
Nobody uses it unless for fraternity meetings, but ever since the university had banned such organizations, the terrace had been vacant and was turned into Taehyung’s personal refuge.
Below him, the city stretches out in blurry flickers of white and yellow, and the air had been cooler than it was in the ground. Taehyung shivers under his puffer jacket.
Taehyung stood there in the empty silence, generators buzzing lightly like white noise in the background and hands tucked inside the pockets of his jacket. For a moment he considered going back down, but he felt the cold metal of his phone brush against his trembling fingers.
He brings it out, the device sitting at 11% but his fingers only scrolled past the screen for one motive and one only.
His thumb hovers over the call button on his mother's contact. Hesitant, he presses it.
The line rings for a while, until a faint voice finally picks up.
“Taehyung?”
“Mom.” Taehyung couldn't say anything else, only hearing how his mother's voice was shaky from the other line.
“Ah, I didn't expect you to call at night. Did something happen at school? Did you miss any fees?”
“That's not why I called.” His chest burns with guilt. He couldn't imagine his mother immediately jumping to the conclusion of him requiring a sort of financial assistance when the line connects. Was he really that desperate in his mother's eyes?
“I just.. wanted to see how you were doing.”
Taehyung stares out into the skyline when he notices a quietness reaching the other line. They both don't exchange words for a moment.
“You don't need to worry about me. I'm finding stable jobs so I don't have to jump from one part-time job to another, but it's nothing out of the ordinary. Just work hard, okay Taehyungie?”
“Yes.” Taehyung doesn't bother telling the truth. He couldn't muster up the courage to tell his mother that he was failing. He wasn't the perfect athlete they had all anticipated he was growing up into.
“I love you, Taehyung.”
The call drops before he knows it. Taehyung lets his mother’s words sink in his chest. That night, Taehyung never realized how empty that rooftop really was.
⌞ ⌝
The black Kawasaki motorbike roars its engines through the afternoon campus as Jeongguk makes his way back home to deliver baking supplies.
When he arrived in front of the bakery, there had already been sacks of flour waiting for him outside. The distinct sound of the engine makes Seokjin rush outside in his apron, a smile worn happily on his face.
“You came just in time. Stock came in a few minutes ago, and we needed your help carrying things inside.” Seokjin pointed out to the sacks of floor, and Jeongguk wasted no time busying himself with it.
“Morning, dad.” Jeongguk greets through his helmet as their father was occupied with sweeping the marble floor of the small bakery. He places the flour sacks by the counter.
“Ah! You didn't have to come. It's a slow day today. You should have focused on your training.”
“Nonsense. Me and hyung are both aware of your flaring arthritis. The flour's going to freeze out in the cold without me.”
Jeongguk smiled as he removed the helmet, placing it down on a nearby table as he combed his hair using his fingers. His father was quick to notice the weight gain.
“New weight class?”
Jeongguk nodded as he walked over to the counter, picking up a rather disfigured glazed donut and stuffed it into his mouth. “Brutal if you ask me. I have to eat two platters of beef every morning.”
“You can always tell the coach when you feel like you're reaching your limit.” His father suggests as he heads back to the storage closet. Jeongguk hums in thought, hunched over the counter.
“I think she knows what's best for me.” Jeongguk reassured him. “I can handle it. It's just tough, that's all.”
Seokjin's mouth hung open in the air as he walked in. “You've gotten bigger, Jeonggukie. You're growing so strong. No wonder you carried the flour in so easily.”
“How's the weather treating you, Gguk?” His dad chimed in, wiping damp hands with a towel as he walked out of the storage closet. “You know you can't stay out when it's cold.”
“It's fine, it's just a spring breeze.” Jeongguk shrugged, licking his fingers off the sugar of the glazed donut as he did.
When their father goes outside to water the florals displayed by the front, Seokjin walks closer to him. “Tell me about school. Do you have a girlfriend?”
Jeongguk's face immediately crunches up in disgust. “As if anyone would want to date a weightlifter like me.”
“Don't downgrade yourself, it hurts me. We share the same genes.” Seokjin gasps dramatically, earning a genuine snicker from his younger brother. “But seriously, don't take athlete life too seriously. Have some fun, give yourself a little freedom.”
“I think I've given myself enough freedom.” Jeongguk bit the inside of his cheek. “I almost punched a guy the other day.”
Seokjin's eyes widened cartoonishly. “Seriously? What did he do?”
“Just kept on getting on my last nerve.” Jeongguk pauses, remembering the way Taehyung's voice sounds condescending and menacing. It was irritating.
“He called me dainty and small. And now he's referring to me as a little bunny.”
Seokjin gives him an unamused look. “I could hardly believe that.”
“You could ask Yoongi-hyung.” Jeongguk sighed, crossing his arms as he leaned against his elbows by the counter. “It's insulting. I've been training myself to be big and strong my whole life and now I'm reduced to a little bunny.”
“It's in your face.” Seokjin's hands reach to pinch his cheeks, making Jeongguk squirm in place. “You have a cute face, it clashes too much with your strong build.”
“I'm not cute anymore.” Jeongguk glares at his older brother, groaning as he did. “I carry sacks of flour like it's nothing, I can't be just a little bunny.”
Seokjin ran to the kitchen when the aroma of sugar and chocolate chips filled the atmosphere. “Enough complaining. Come help me display these baked cookies.”
They work with chemistry; Seokjin holding the hot tray of freshly baked cookies with a mitten and Jeongguk carefully placing them over the glass display by the counter in a domino-like order.
“Dad always has the best chocolate chip recipes.” Seokjin brought out a saved piece, two for each of them. Jeongguk lets the warmth of the sweet cookie sink in his fingers.
“It's his signature.” Jeongguk smiled to himself when he dug his teeth into its softness.
“Don't tell him that.” Seokjin snickered, untying his apron with one hand. “Remember when we were younger he used to call himself the cookie monster?”
“God, it's disastrous.” Jeongguk remembered the memory so vividly. Their father dressed up in horrific blue sweaters carrying a large tray of cookies every time the two of them gathered by the dining table.
Their father returns from the front, a wide grin spread across his face. “You two better not be fighting over those cookies. Jeongguk, go put the brownies in the oven. It's done cooling in the refrigerator.”
“Got it.” Jeongguk picked up his brother's discarded apron by the counter, tying it around his waist before he retreated back to the kitchen.
The glass door opens, triggering the bell chime as Seokjin looks up from the counter, a practiced smile widening at the customer.
“Welcome to Kookie’s Delights~”
Taehyung wore a button-down flannel outside. It was the weekend, and he wanted to give his mother a small token of appreciation before he came over to visit.
But he would be lying if he said that the pastel-colored sign that wrote Kookie's Delights was what caught his attention, because it was truly the black motorbike parked neatly out front.
“How much for a box of cookies?”
“5,000 won, sir.” Seokjin chimes in an upbeat tone as he leans down, already arranging a brown box for the cookies. “Since you're the first customer of the day, would you like a free treat of brownies?”
Taehyung's eyebrows raised in surprise as he pulled out his leather wallet. “That—That would be great.”
“You're lucky today, sir. Our batches just came back from the oven.” Seokjin says as he places a dozen cookies inside the box, sealing it with a heart sticker.
Jeongguk emerges from the kitchen carrying a fresh tray of brownies, the smell already mixing with the sweetness of the cookies. He sets the tray down by the counter, removing his mittens as he readies to pack the brownies for the customer—
Wait.
Taehyung's hand froze midair and mid-payment when he reached for the box of cookies.
Jeongguk stood there, behind the counter wearing a pastel pink apron, completely different from what was his usual black attire whenever they encountered each other on campus.
He took one look at Taehyung, and his customer-service demeanor was completely destroyed.
“Bunny?”
The nickname lands in a mocking blow right in his face.
Jeongguk's face burns. Not in a good way, but the temperature in his body rises increasingly fast. It's terrifying.
Seokjin notices the shift in his behavior almost immediately, turning over to check on his younger brother who was gripping the tray so hard it leaves a small dent.
“I'll pack these up for you.” Jeongguk mutters quietly, his usual composed pace now increasing in speed as he places— no, shoves the brownies in a white paper bag and hands it to Taehyung who looked just as flabbergasted as he was.
Taehyung doesn't tease him like how he typically would. He knew that they both had separate responsibilities outside the campus, despite being athletes with demanding schedules. It was a small, mutual understanding.
Athlete to athlete.
But there was also a slight satisfaction he felt seeing Jeongguk dressed in a pink apron, cheeks flushed and muscles defined as he held a tray of baked delicacies. It only fed more to his image of a bunny.
A weightlifting bunny.
And he was willing to bet that the fancy motorbike belonged to him as well. If anything, under all that dark contrast and aesthetics laid a muscular doll.
Taehyung doesn't tease him, but his smile seemed to have spoken more volume than his words did.
Jeongguk felt his breathing stop when their fingers slid past each other when he handed the white paper bag.
“I'll see you around.”
When he exits, the door chimes behind him. Jeongguk finally exhales in relief.
“That's the guy who called you a little bunny, isn't he?” Seokjin's brow twitched upwards, and Jeongguk nodded desperately.
Seokjin lets out a hearty laugh. “He's handsome, alright. Perhaps he's flirting with you.”
Jeongguk shoots him a mortified look plastered all over his face. “That only makes it more demeaning than it already is.”
When Jeongguk made his way back to the campus, he rode his motorbike with the adrenaline of that encounter already pulsing throughout his veins. He knew that there was something about the way Taehyung's stare wasn't the least bit supercilious, but something more.. intimate.
Jeongguk couldn't quite describe the feeling.