Millennium bug

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/38781708.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Relationship: Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin
Characters: Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin (BTS), Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Kim Namjoon
| RM, mentions of: Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi | Suga, Jeon Jungkook's
Family
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Y2K au, Coming of Age, First
Love, Gay Awakening, Cheating, not between jikook though, Park Jimin
Is Bad at Feelings, cw: smoking, cw: drinking, Pining, Awkward First
Times, Dance Major Park Jimin, POV Jeon Jungkook, High School
Graduate Jeon Jungkook, Happy Ending, Jungkook has a girlfriend at
first, the comp het is strong with this one, Jeon Jungkook Needs a Hug,
Angst and Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2022-05-04 Updated: 2022-06-01 Words: 27,342 Chapters:
2/4
 Millennium bug
by Chimneycricket

Summary

It’s not a big deal, having never been kissed.

It isn’t— until it is, because who wants to be the last guy in a room, in any room, to have
fooled around?

When you’re in high school, you’re supposed to get a girlfriend. Someone cute, small,
probably quiet if that’s your type. You hold hands a couple times, go to noraebang after class,
eat too much greasy food and maybe hug or exchange an awkward peck before saying
goodbye as your friends giggle in the background.

Except that’s not at all how it goes for Jeongguk, and now he’s about to graduate without ever
really knowing what it feels like.

Notes

Hello! I'm back with yet another AU, who would have thought. Ha! This is more or less a
love letter to the 2000s and my own teenage years, so it was really fun to write, and I hope
you'll have fun reading it. I'm not too sure about it, but oh, well. When am I!

A few words of warning and notes before you start reading:

In this fic, the characters mention their age based on the Korean age system. In
international age, Jeongguk is eighteen, and Jimin just turned twenty.

There are mentions of DVD rooms in this story, which were a pretty popular thing at one
point in South Korea. Those are rooms you can book to watch movies, kind of like private
theaters. They have been known to be used by young couples to fool around.

Now for the tags and potential triggers. I have done my best to tag this fic appropriately,
but I would like to issue a warning: in this story, the characters are messy, and imperfect.
 They aren't meant to be a paragon of morality, and they make mistakes and disputable
choices. Jeongguk has a girlfriend for some time, and there is some overlap. If this is a
subject you are sensitive to, please, do not read this fic. It is meant as an exploration of sexual
orientation and the growing pains that come with it. Please read at your own discretion!

Last thing, the story is set in 2004, which may not be obvious in the first chapter!

Here is a link to a Playlist, I made, which is somewhat relevant to the AU. Feel free to listen
to it if you're curious! You could also listen to the Heartstopper OST because that's basically
what I was listening to when I wrote the second half of this chapter ha!

See the end of the work for more notes

 Chapter I: Egg

millennium bug: The Year 2000 problem, also known as the Y2K problem, Millennium bug,
Y2K bug, Y2K glitch or Y2K error, refers to potential computer errors related to the
formatting and storage of calendar data for dates in and after the year 2000. Computer
systems' inability to distinguish dates correctly had the potential to bring down worldwide
infrastructures for industries ranging from banking to air travel.
 Millennium Bug

Chapter I: Egg

It’s not a big deal, having never been kissed.

It isn’t— until it is, because who wants to be the last guy in a room, in any room, to have
fooled around?

When you’re in high school, you’re supposed to get a girlfriend. Someone cute, small,
probably quiet if that’s your type. You hold hands a couple times, go to noraebang after class,
eat too much greasy food and maybe hug or exchange an awkward peck before saying
goodbye as your friends giggle in the background.

Except that’s not at all how it goes for Jeongguk, and now he’s about to graduate without ever
really knowing what it feels like.

It’s not his fault, he’ll argue later.

His girlfriend doesn’t seem to want anything more than for him to pay for movie tickets and
foot the bill at random cafes with extravagant drinks — too sweet, always way too sweet for
him— and who is he to force himself on a lady? Plus, the lip gloss.

Tacky, sticky, honey-like. No one likes that, right?

Okay, so maybe he’s picky.

Still doesn’t explain the gap in perception between cute fifteen-year-old Jeon Jeongguk,
never been kissed, and nineteen-year-old Jeongguk, soon to be labeled pitiful by the dance
hyungs he meets after school.

He’d started b-boying as a way to spend energy in other ways than on the bouncing leg he
always seemed to get sitting on his ass all day, begging his brain to pay attention to class —to
no avail. He’d tried Kendo at first, but found the sport too stiff, and got bored of waiting for
his turn to practice on the mats.

He’d stuck it out for about a year. And then one night, a fateful night as he’d recall later, He’d
stayed late, the gym’s microwave refusing to cooperate as he tried to heat up his ramyeon.

Entered guys. Cool guys.

Cool legs, too. All muscly and shit, in shorts, looking proper strong, not like the spindly
dudes you saw on tv all the time in their slim-cut fits. Actual meat on these bones. Anyway.

He’d sort of panicked, awkwardly crab-walked away in hopes of not being noticed, but one
of them did, and that had been The Beginning of The End, for him.

“Saw some light and you came in?” One of them asked, smile wide, eyes shining with mirth.

“He’s from the dojo, hyung. Saw him before. You’re in high school, right?” Another boy, who
couldn’t have possibly been much older than him added.

“Are you looking to join? Because we’re like, totally missing a dude so—”

“There’s no way Jin-hyung is getting scouted by that company. He can barely move his
shoulders in sync.”

“They don’t give a shit about that when you have a face like his, Jimin-ah.”

“Life is so fucking unfair—”

“Hey— no cursing”

“You just did it!”

“That’s the hyung tax for you— Now go stretch while I convince this little asparagus to join
us.”

The guy— the one with the wide smile— had then walked towards him with the stance of
someone who already knew the answer to the question they were about to ask.

“So, you in or you out?”

“Jeongguk-ah. Hey, earth to Jeongguk?”

“I think you broke him.”

“I was just asking a simple question! You’re the one who came around boasting about your
side-piece—”

“Don’t call her that, Taeyeon is a lovely girl.”

Next to him, sweating up the gym floor, Park Jimin gives him a charged side-eye. Something
along the lines of being generous with the term lovely , or the likes.

They’d been four at the beginning of the year: Hoseok, the de-facto leader, Namjoon, their
manager —the one with the Legs, and Jimin, whom Jeongguk had learned was actually a
good year and a half older than him.

He’d looked a little scary at first, kind of intense when it came to performing.

No, he mentally corrects himself. Hoseok was always the one to fear. Outside of his
competitiveness, Jimin was mostly harmless.

(Or so he’d thought.)

They’ve been training extra hard lately, excitedly chatting about possibly doing a showcase in
May, right after Jeongguk’s graduation. Unfortunately for him, graduating soon meant the
hyungs had started including him in conversations he would have been more than okay
staying out of forever.

“Anyway,” Jimin yawns, because there’s very little he likes talking about less than Taeyeon,
“is your girlfriend good to you, Jeonggukie? How does she compare to the lovely Taeyeon?
Bet she doesn’t make a whole spectacle of eating half of your face in public,” he aims at
Hoseok.

He gulps down. What is one even supposed to say to that? “She’s… shy. I don’t want to
pressure her.”

“Wait,” Jimin frowns as he stretches his hamstrings, “you’ve done stuff, right?”

He gives the other dancers a weird look. “What do you mean, stuff ?”

Hoseok wiggles a finger or two crudely.

“Oh, gross, no.”

You know that sound, that buzzer you hear when a contestant gets an answer wrong on a
game show, on tv?

Well— Jimin’s eyes widen, the buzzer rings in his head, and Jeongguk knows, instantly , that
he made a mistake.

He coughs.“I mean, I’m in high school. Aren’t you supposed to do this shit like, later?”

Once again, the face the other two dancers make kind of answers that question before they
get a chance to open their mouths.

So it’s even worse than this, apparently.

Not having gone past second base with anyone is already bad by their standards, so kissing—
Oh, he wants to disappear underground.

Why does it have to be like this?

Who even made those rules, anyway?

He gets up, forcefully rubbing his neck with a towel. “I’m gonna hit the showers, I’m beat.”

Namjoon tosses a water bottle his way, a pitying look on his face. “Don’t forget to hydrate.”

“Sure, whatever,” he says, waving his hand in what he hopes isn’t too pathetic.

There’s nothing else to be done, they know, now. All he can hope is that they forget about it
soon enough.

“I told you he was a total virgin,” Hoseok whispers once he thinks Jeongguk’s out of earshot.

Jimin shrugs.“It’s just surprising, is all. The guy’s almost twenty, I thought—”

“Some people go at different speeds.”

“I guess, but like—”

The rest of Jimin’s sentence gets lost with the sweep of the gym door, and Jeongguk is
thankful for the respite.

There’s no need to hear more.

When he first started dancing, Jeongguk thought he’d finally, finally gotten something right
in his life.

As if suddenly, a tiny piece of the puzzle fit in a spot he’d previously missed, and could now
see clearly.

That’s what he was meant to do, what he was born for.

He’d pick up routines in the blink of an eye, never tire of practices, and when the gym closed
he’d practice some more at home, rolling the floor mattress to one side, bobbing his head to
the beat playing on his iPod.

Hey you, why are you hesitating? I know you want me

Right now in front of you, I know what you want,

What you’re waiting for, just come here

The lyrics of the song don’t really make much sense to him. As far as he knows, girls don’t
seem at all that eager to get down to it, but then again— he’s an almost twenty-year-old
virgin, so.

He closes his eyes.

When the possibility of a showcase had arisen, Hoseok had offered to build a tracklist,
making sure each of their strengths would be displayed throughout the songs. He’d then
joked Jeongguk would particularly enjoy track seven, and Jeongguk hadn’t really questioned
it.

I’m not that little girl you used to know, anymore.

You know what— doesn’t matter if he gets it or not, Hoseok wants them to improvise some
sort of hip-hop break in the middle, and he’s good at that. Has that kind of power in the steps
that guys like Jimin lack.

I’m a woman now

I’m thankful that you’ve waited for me

His phone buzzes from under the blankets, where he’s tossed it unceremoniously after exiting
today’s practice as discreetly as he could. No need for Jimin and Hoseok to tease him about
his relationship with Nayeon. They’re fine. She’s fine.

And if she doesn’t want Jeongguk’s mouth anywhere close to hers, or his fingers going
further down than her hands, that’s fine by him.

Speak of the devil—

Kim Nayeon:

Did you work hard today again? I didn’t see you leave school~

You:

Namjoon-hyung moved practice to Tuesdays, I’m sorry I forgot to tell you >.<

Did you eat?

Kim Nayeon:

I did!
Did you?

You:

Yeah, my mom had budae jjigae ready for us!

Did you end up going out with the others?

Kim Nayeon:

We went to a new place in Hongdae

The song selection was a lot better, but the food was too expensive >~<

Maybe we should go together next time?

You:

Do you know when the others are free?

Kim Nayeon:

No, I mean

Just the two of us

And maybe

Kim Nayeon:

There are places around

if we get tired

You:

Hongdae isn’t that far, I’m sure we can manage to catch the last train
Kim Nayeon:

That’s not

You know

You:

What?

Kim Nayeon:

You know

Do you really not see where I’m going with this?

You:

Nayeonie?

You:

Did I say something bad?

Are you upset with me?

Kim Nayeon:

Jeongguk-ah

I don’t want to be the one to suggest things like these

Don’t make me say it

You:

What are you talking about?

Kim Nayeon:
I was talking about booking a DVD room or something!!!

>x<

>x<”””

Hyeri and her hoobae went weeks ago, and they’ve only been dating since April -_-

You:

Oh

Oh

Uhm

I didn’t realize this was something you wanted

Kim Nayeon:

I was waiting for you to ask…

You:

Oh

Kim Nayeon:

Great, now I look like a pervert -_-”

You:

You don’t!!!

I just was so busy with school and practice

My mind was elsewhere

If you’re sure, we can we could we should

Kim Nayeon:

Yeah, I’m sure <3

I really like you, you know

Even if you’re a total airhead, sometimes

You:

I really like you too

<3

The second the flip phone hits the floor pillow, he deflates like a balloon.

Oh, this is bad. This is like— doomsday movie bad.

As long as they stood on that line, barely touching, he didn’t have to ask himself any
questions. As long as Nayeon, sweet, quiet Nayeon with the good grades and the cheering
club didn’t say anything, he was fine pretending he didn’t want anything either.

Except she wants things. She probably wants to kiss him, may have been for a while,
actually.

Told you he was a total virgin.

In his ears, Park Ji Yoon’s lyrics seem to mock him, her voice pleading for an end to her wait,
strangely similar to Nayeon’s.

Okay.

He can do this. He can, for real.

Men do this sort of stuff.

For Jeongguk, it has always been sort of a shameful, quick experience, in between shaving
and climbing in the shower, feet cold on the tiles and shaky legs as he struggled to make
peace with his mind. One and done kind of deal— until the next one.

He didn’t even like looking at his own body while doing it, like— how was that supposed to
work with someone else?

And it’s not like he could ask any of the dance hyungs. Not after today, too embarrassing.
He lets out a groan.

God, why is his life such a clusterfuck? Can’t he just graduate in peace, and not have to
worry about shit like that?

Slowly, he puts an earbud back in.

Hey you, I want to give you permission to give me your love

Teach me how love is so sweet and fragrant

And throws the iPod away with a jerk of his hand.

The first thing Hoseok says, as he wobbles into the gym on freaking crutches, is something
really obvious: “So, I have some bad news.”

Namjoon’s face falls even faster than Jimin’s, eyes glued to the massive cast on Hoseok’s leg.
“What happened?!”

“I was on my delivery run, and I swerved to avoid a pedestrian. I crashed my moped into a
pole,” Hoseok explains, pushing one of the guys’ bags aside to sit on the single chair in their
rehearsal space.

“I told you! I told you this job was going to send you back in pieces!”

“Don’t be dramatic, Namjoon-ah. It’s only an ankle, it’ll heal in no time. But— not quick
enough for us I’m afraid,” he turns to Jeongguk with an apologetic smile.

“What about the showcase?” He asks, a little dejected.

Jimin groans in the back.

“We could always rework it so it’s just the both of you, if Jimin can take the load.”
And here we fucking go— he doesn’t even need to turn to know Jimin is puffing up like a
rooster— burnt red hair sticking out in places to complete the look: “Of course I can, what
kind of question is that?”

It’s always the same with him. Out of them all, Jimin is definitely the one Jeongguk has the
hardest time getting along with. They’re on friendly terms, sure, because the guy’s still older
than him, and eighty percent of the time, Jimin’s alright. But the last twenty percent, man .

He’s never seen someone so quick to jump, and like— Jeongguk doesn’t do mercurial.

“Easy, tiger,” Hoseok appeals, “I’m just saying, you were the one saying the conservatory
was taking a lot of energy out of you—”

Jeongguk frowns. “Wait— you’re a dance major?”

“Contemporary,” Jimin confirms, lips jutting forward in defiance.

He blinks.

Jimin crosses his arms against his chest. “What?”

He coughs. “Nothing, I just thought, with the leather jacket and all, you look more like a
delinquent than a dainty swan.”

“ Fuck you , that’s ballet,” the dancer huffs. “Anyway. We’re gonna need to adjust the
choreo. There’s no way this works with just the two of us.”

Jeongguk gawks. “What about the work I already put in?”

(We . He should have said “we”)

Jimin casts an annoyed glare his way. “Are you really going to pass an opportunity to show
off how fast you learn shit? How long is it going to take you this time, two days, do you
think?”

Oh.

He didn’t think Jimin noticed.

Granted, he didn’t think Jimin noticed much but his own reflection, most of the time. The guy
usually came in a good half-hour late, threw his bag in the corner of the room, danced
tirelessly, exchanged maybe two or three jokes with Hoseok, and then went home.

Or, Jeongguk thinks as he looks at the smudged eyeliner and the smack of glitter on the side
of his neck, went to places a little more interesting than noraebang in Hongdae.

“What do you have in mind?” Hoseok asks, eyeing Namjoon. “Do we even have time for
this? When’s the showcase again?”

“May tenth. That’s probably enough time, if the changes aren’t too…”
“We need to rethink the whole thing,” Jimin says, and Jeongguk almost rolls his eyes. “You
know I’m right. The whole song is about getting it on, and you’d have us do a glorified
version of the robot.”

Hoseok grimaces. “Jeongguk’s really good at popping.”

“Maybe it’s time he learns something new.”

Why don’t you get good at popping?

This is why it sucks being the youngest. Jimin can afford to lose his cool like that, Jeongguk
can’t. He’s, for lack of a better term, a bottom feeder. Which really isn’t fair, because he can
dance just as good as any of them.

“This isn’t a host club, Jimin-ah.”

“I’m not talking pole dancing, hyung. Just like, smoother transitions! Some flair in the hip,
that sort of thing.”

“Fine, let’s see it. Floor is yours,” Hoseok gestures.

Jimin walks to the center of their rehearsal space, throwing his snapback to a corner of the
room and running a hair through his hair. “Alright,” he says, eyes meeting Jeongguk’s in the
mirror, “Check this out.”

Sure, let’s see how Jimin does it. Knowing him, that’ll probably involve fifteen hip thrusts
and a gun show.

The music starts, Hoseok counts him in.

Jeongguk uses every last ounce of pride left in him not to let his jaw drop on the floor.

Hey you, why are you hesitating? I know you want me

Right now in front of you, I know what you want

This is nothing like the moves he’s used to seeing him do.

The dancer’s body twists like water, all in S curves, flick of a finger or a pop of the wrist
punctuating moves that feel lot sultrier than anything Jeongguk’s ever done.

What you’re waiting for, just come here

“The song’s about this girl wanting her guy to know she’s not a kid anymore, right?” Jimin
says, hips swaying in a slow, torturous circle. “So you don’t want to look cold. You want to
look like you’re luring the audience in . Like this,” he drops, low, eyebrows arched up, almost
pleading. “She’s trying to convince him .”

Behind them, the lyrics echo, Jimin’s lips mouthing them off with a sly smirk he’s not sure
how to feel about.
Because, like…

This sucks.

Jimin’s right. This fits the song.

Worse, it fits better than anything Hoseok’s tried to choreograph for them, and they both
know it.

Hey you, I want to give you permission to give me your love

Teach me how love is so sweet and fragrant

“Woah, Jimin-ah, slow down, you’re gonna get people pregnant with this,” Hoseok laughs,
incredulous when the other boy runs a hand through his hair.

“Don’t you agree, hyung? We can add stuff like that to the original thing, we have the time.”

Hoseok shrugs. “I’m not the one dancing this with you. Ask him.”

If Jeongguk’s shoulders sag a little, no one makes note of it. Hoseok had been the dream
partner, serious, easy to work with.

Jimin, on the other hand…

The other dancer walks off, grabs his cap on the floor. “What do you say, golden boy?”

He clears his throat. “Did you learn that in dance class?”

Jimin’s smile turns knowing. “In a way.”

Gross.

Still, though.

This is a challenge, and he likes those.

“Okay,” he says, avoiding the other guy, choosing to look at Hoseok instead. “I don’t want to
disappoint hyung.”

“Kiss-ass,” Jimin snorts.

“It’d be a shame for us to give up that spot ,” Namjoon nods. “You’ve all grown a lot this
year, especially you.”

It’s a good thing his haircut hides the top of his ears, because he’s pretty sure he’s blushing.
That’s Kim Namjoon for you. Jeongguk can only hope to be that cool, one day. If Hoseok is
the heart of the crew, Namjoon is its head: praise from him is something Jeongguk actively,
shamefully seeks.

“Thanks, hyung.”
“Okay, now that the pleasantries are done,” Hoseok happily chirps, “let’s get to it. And don’t
think I’ll go easy on you just because I can’t dance.

Five, six, seven, eight—“

“Yah, Just move your hips! No, not like that—”

“I am moving my hips!” Jeongguk protests, teeth gritted together.

It’s too much. Between Nayeon, school, and this, Jeongguk’s head is positively boiling .

He’d left practice last week invigorated, set on not disappointing his hyungs, and, yes,
showing Jimin next time.

The reality of it, though, had hit completely differently.

“You’re doing it too choppy,” Jimin complains, “try being more sensual—”

And that's only one of the many, many things the dancer is nagging him about.

To hear Jimin say it, Jeongguk’s about as graceful as a sack of flour. Nothing’s right. Posture,
transitions, and most of all, sensuality .

In the short week they’ve been practicing this, he’s come to hate the word.

It shouldn’t mean that much, but Jimin’s used it enough times to point out Jeongguk’s lack of
feeling throughout the song that the boy is hitting a wall. He’s tried everything: practising on
his own, even asked Hoseok for advice when Jimin had his back turned. He had quickly
deflated when the older guy had risen his hands, washing the responsibility off of him.

“This isn’t where I shine, dude, that’s Jimin’s wheelhouse. Ask him for help,” Hoseok had
pointed out before leaving the gym that night.
“Hey, Jeon, can you at least pay attention to me when I’m correcting your posture? It’ll only
be the millionth time.”

Ughhhhhhhhh. He’s going to burst.

“I’m trying !”

Next to him, Jimin scoffs. “Are you? Because according to you, this shit shouldn’t be hard to
learn so… what’s the problem, really?”

He’s right.

It shouldn’t.

If there’s one thing that always used to come easy to him, that’s dancing. Following the steps,
doing the moves, he’s good at that.

But Jimin is asking for emotion , and that shit, Jeongguk realizes with a nasty twist in his gut,
you can’t learn .

“The problem is that mommy and daddy didn’t foot the bill for expensive dance classes,” he
mumbles, which— not okay, Jeongguk.

“Uh, you wanna rethink that one, maybe?” Jimin says, chin jutting forward.

Behind him, Namjoon stiffens. “Guys,”

Shit.

Damage control, quick.

He rubs a hand across his face. “I’m sorry. I’m tired, I didn’t mean that.”

“Yeah, you did,” the other dancer replies, kicking Jeongguk’s foot with the tip of his own.
“Not that it matters, but I’m actually on a scholarship, you ass.”

Shame flushes across his face.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh . Don’t assume shit like that.”

“Jimin-ah,” Namjoon admonishes, “language.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry.”

Jimin looks at him for a while, eyes scanning what Jeongguk knows to be there, sitting on his
face: exhaustion, sweat, probably some grit from having cycled there right after school. As
for doubt and shame… all of that is hopefully lying deeper under the surface.

“I’m really sorry.”

A beat passes, the CD player suddenly skipping to a stop.

“Alright, I’m calling it. You’re not gonna get this down tonight,” Namjoon sighs, running a
hand through his hair.

His head snaps up. “No! I can try again—”

“Jeongguk—” Namjoon starts tiredly. “I’m not being nice. We’ve been stuck on this part of
the choreo for an hour. Hoseok’s gone. I’m tired, I’m hungry, and you look like you’re about
to pass out. In my experience, only one of two things will happen if we keep pushing: either
one of you two goes home with a dance injury. Or,” he glares pointedly at Jimin, “One of you
goes home with a Park injury.”

Jeongguk stares back blankly.

“He’s saying I’ll punch the shit out of you,” Jimin smirks.

That makes him laugh, at least. “Yeah, okay. That tracks.”

Jimin pouts. “What are you saying? I’m an angel.”

“That’s not what Hobi-hyung says.”

“Ah, he’s just jealous. We can’t all be blessed with this,” Jimin jokes, flexing his arms.

“You really love yourself, huh?”

If Jeongguk pretends to barf as Jimin kisses his biceps, that’s between him and the mirrored
wall.

“Can’t wait on other people to do most of the job, right, hyung?”

“Please, don’t rope me into this,” Namjoon pleads, rolling up towels. “You guys should hit
the showers while there isn’t anyone in there. I’ll clean up behind you.”

Jimin throws a hand his way, which Jeongguk grabs to steady himself.

“Hey, listen,” he starts, “I’m sorry, too. We have plenty of time til the showcase, and there are
parts I’m not great at either. I shouldn’t have gone so hard on you.”

In the corner of his eyes, he can see Namjoon watch them curiously.

This is a test, he realizes. If he can set his pride aside, maybe they have a shot at doing this.

He clears his throat. “I’ll try harder next time. Thanks for showing me, hyung.”

Namjoon’s shoulders relax the tiniest bit, and Jimin actually waits til the doors to the locker
room close behind them to smile smuggly. “ Hyung ?”

He pouts. “What! I’m trying to be respectful!”

“You’ve never called me hyung before,” Jimin remarks.

“That can’t be true.”

“Think about it. You call Hobi-hyung and Namjoon-hyung. But you always call me Jimin-
ssi.”

Oh, right.

“Shit. You’re right,” he says with an embarrassed cough.

“I know I am!” Jimin replies. “Call me hyung again.”

He wrinkles his nose. “No chance. Not if you ask!”

“Brat! Show me respect, I’m trying to teach you to dance like a real man!”

“Yeah, well, look how that’s going!”

Jimin kicks him, but there’s something laid back, playful about it. “You’re really the biggest
brat I’ve ever met.” He pulls the zipper of his pants up. “Hey, wanna get chicken?”

“Like, now?”

“Yeah. There’s a place a block away.”

He stares at Jimin, trying to gauge how serious the other guy is. “Aren’t your parents gonna
scold you?”

“I’m twenty-one, Jeongguk. My parents don’t say shit.”

Right.

Between them, his phone buzzes loudly, and he doesn’t have to look at the screen to know
he’ll want to ignore that message too. He sighs, pocketing the device, and Jimin raises a
curious eyebrow. “Trouble in paradise?”

“I really, really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” Jimin says as he closes the door to his locker, “That’s already more than I need to
know. God, I hate high school breakups. So much snot when they’re crying.”

“I’m not breaking up with my girlfriend,” he explans. “It’s just— she’s being a little pushy,
lately, and I don’t really know how to— wait, why am I saying this to you,” he stops himself
as Jimin stares at him with a sly smile.

“Because I’m the best you’ve got?”

He slumps down. “That’s such a depressing thought.”

“Grab your coat, it’s snowing out,” Jimin says as he dons that shredded, beaten-up biker
jacket of his. “She’s pushy how?”

He looks up.“She wants us to get a room.”

Jimin’s eyebrows go comically up. “Reaaaally?”

“Yah, don’t laugh!”

“So you’re just stressed about getting down to business, okay! I was wondering why you
were so tense today.”

And again with the noticing.

“You don’t get it. For you that’s like, another Tuesday—”

“Are you calling me a slut?” Jimin smirks.

“You have a giant hickey on your neck,” Jeongguk deadpans, and the other boy laughs, the
sound echoing in the quiet night as they exit the building.

He was right, it is snowing. Fuck, he left his bike outside.

“So what’s your big hiccup, then? You afraid to nut in two seconds or—”

He blushes.“I’m not even thinking about that! It’s more like.. how do I even go from barely
holding her hand in public to full-on, you know…”

“Well, for one, you should probably not do that one in public.”

“Ha, ha. I’m serious.”

Jeongguk pinches his lips. The chances of Jimin making even more fun of him are pretty
large, at this point, but he’s survived it so far. Besides, the other dancer is right. He’s there,
and by Jeongguk’s standards, that’s enough.

“What if I suck?”

The door to the chicken shop dings as they step in, noses all red from the snow, and he bows
to the clerk holding up the register.

“Oh, you’re definitely going to suck,” Jimin says as he shakes the snowflakes off his messy
hair, “but that’s just part of life.”

Well, that’s not reassuring at all.

“Okay, but I don’t want to! I don’t like not being good at stuff.”

“Woah, never would have figured that one out,” Jimin replies sarcastically. “Honestly, it’s not
rocket science. You’ll learn as you go.”
He slumps down on a chair. “I wish there were classes, or something.”

“I think that’s just called porn, dude.”

“Sh—That’s illegal !” Jeongguk panics, slapping a hand on Jimin’s mouth.

“Oh my god, you have got to be kidding,” he rolls his eyes, turning to the clerk. “Can we get
two?”

“I don’t have cash on me,” Jeongguk warns, and Jimin waves him off.

“It’s fine, my treat.”

“But— your scholarship,” Jeongguk starts protesting.

“Annnd,” Jimin pivots, “this is why I don’t tell people. Ease up, Baek Sin-Hae. I can afford to
buy us chicken. Go grab us some napkins or something.”

They end up standing right by the door while waiting for their takeout, breaths forming little
puffs of smoke in the air as Jeongguk nervously stares at his phone screen. Next to him, Jimin
pulls out a beat-up pack of cigarettes, lighting up like a real pro.

Not that he’d know any better.

The dancer exhales slowly. “You know sex is just, like, a thing that happens, right? There’s
no need to overthink it.”

He looks at the orange light, flickering in the dark. “You don’t get it. You can say that
because you’ve had tons of it. It’s different when you haven’t.”

Jimin chuckles. “How much do you think I fuck, for real? I’m only a year and half older than
you.”

Jeongguk stares at him.

“Whatever,” he rolls his eyes, “I wasn’t born like this. I mean, I was kind of a dweeb in high
school.”

Jeongguk’s mouth drops. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

The kick Jimin throws at his shin is not entirely unwarranted. “How do you think I got that
scholarship? I had to cram for those grades. Anyway—What I’m saying is, there may or may
not have been a time where I was significantly less cool than right now.”

Oh, he seriously doubts it. Jimin is just one of those guys. The annoying kind, the kind to
break rules and get away with it because of that little something, that flame burning from the
inside out that makes him shine a little brighter than regular people.

The worst part about that, though, is that Jimin knows .

“So, how many girlfriends did you have in high school, then?”

He takes another toke, making sure to blow the smoke opposite him. “Technically, two. There
may have been some overlap, though.”

“What?”

He shrugs. “I’m not really good at saying no.”

“I don’t get it,” Jeongguk says with a frown.

“I didn’t want to disappoint either of the girls who confessed. So I just dated them both.”

He must look like his eyes are bulging out of his head, because Jimin laughs.

“At the same time?!”

He raises his hands. “I thought that would make them happy!”

“Oh my god—”

“Obviously that backfired horribly,” Jimin muses, pushing some snow with his shoe. “I didn’t
mean to be cruel, or for either of them to be sad. In the end, they both were,” he adds
somewhat bitterly.

“I see.”

He thinks back to that day with Nayeon, and how nervous she’d been, holding on to the
broom they were sharing to clean up the classroom, before confessing to him with a shakey
voice.

How small she’d looked, how vulnerable.

“How did it happen?”

“Huh?”

Jimin tosses the cigarette away with a flick of a finger. “Your girlfriend. Did you confess to
her, or?”

“Oh, no no,” he waves away. “She confessed to me. We were in the same clubs, so it kind of
made sense.”

Jimin raises a questioning eyebrow. “You’re dating her because it makes sense ?”

Oh, God, he’s right. He sounds like an asshole.

“No, I mean! She’s pretty, and she’s nice…”

“Yeah, okay,” Jimin replies, wrinkling his nose. “You know, in my experience, it’s better not
to give them any false hopes. If you sleep with her and then break up, she’s gonna hate you
forever.”

“As opposed to?”

“If you break up right now, she’ll only hate you for a couple months,” Jimin grins.

He bites the inside of his cheek. “I don’t wanna break up with her, I like her! I just… I don’t
know,” he sighs, defeated.

Why must things be so complicated?

“When did you know you were ready?”

Jimin’s cheeks turn slightly pink. “I don’t know, man— we were making out, and then it kind
of… happened? Like, I just did what my body told me.”

Well, that’s not helpful at all.

“Did you like it?”

Now Jimin’s eyes are as round as the moon above them. “Why wouldn’t I like it? It’s sex?
Haven’t you jerked off before?”

Now he knows he’s blushing up to his ears. “Ok, no— Thanks for the advice, this was
edifying and all, but I definitely don’t wanna talk about that with you.”

Jimin smiles slyly. “I knew it! I was starting to think you were completely spotless, but
you’re just as much of a perv as the rest of us! Thank God!”

“Shut up,” he groans, ears burning with shame. “We all do it.”

“Ah, chicken’s ready,” Jimin says, turning towards the door. “Let’s get it, pervert.”

“Keep calling me that, and I’ll never call you hyung again,” he threatens.

The sigh Jimin lets out is overly dramatic. “And here I thought we were making progress!”

We were, Jeongguk realizes with a start.

As he watches the other boy scarf down chicken like his life depends on it, Jeongguk thinks
that maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance for them to do this right.

The bell rings, and with it, the weight on Jeongguk’s shoulders lift a little.

It’s not that he’s particularly bad at school, or anything, but…

Focusing’s always been kind of an issue, for him. With the entrance exams finally done and
winter behind him, the worst is finally over, and now, he can barely pay attention to class.

It’s like he’s used his entire stock of concentration for the year, and he’s only half there most
of the time.

That and Nayeon’s insistent glare, drilling a hole in the back of his neck isn’t exactly helping.

He’s looked at his options, and so far, they’re pretty dire.

He can either bite the bullet, get the damn room, hope he doesn’t fuck it up too much for
either of them, and then go on with his life, or…

Yeah, no.

He can’t break up with her over this. He can’t.

What would he even tell Nayeon? Sorry, I’m too scared to suck to even try?

What kind of teenage boy says that? No really, what kind?

He’d be better off telling her he’s a serial killer.

Actually…

“Man, your head’s like, way high up these days, huh,” Yugyeom grins, rubbing the side of his
head with his hand. “What’cha thinking of?”

“Your mom,” he replies automatically.

“Woof, poor Nayeon,” Yugyeom snickers. “Speaking of…”

Oh, God. What now?

“Hyeri told me about the room. You’ve got some balls, trying to hook up before the end of
the year.”

“Can we not talk about that at school? I don’t want people to know,” he groans, thinking of
the flyers lining the inside of his backpack.

He’d started looking for rooms to book, the kind with clerks that don’t really look too closely
at your ID, or maybe don't ask why you’re wearing a school uniform. He doesn’t need a
tattletale to narc on them to the headmaster.

They’d all looked the same. Seedy, seriously unromantic, but the look on Nayeon’s face when
he’d told her he’d started to look for something had almost erased it all.

The thing about Kim Nayeon, Jeongguk remembers, is that she could have had any guy.

He knows this for a fact, because every year, without fail, a string of dudes from each class
left letters in her locker, chocolates around Christmas, asked her out for coffee. She’d get
looks in the street, discounts at the cafe they’d all sit down to cram at.

So, yes, she could have had any guy.

Yugyeom used to tease her, call her princess behind her back, to her face, once.

The following day, she’d cut a big chunk of his hair with scissors, and that had made
Jeongguk laugh.

A week later, she’d confessed to him.

He remembers thinking about Yugyeom’s messed up hair, about the letters in her locker, and
her pretty, pretty smile.

False confidence, he’d realized later, as her hand trembled in his.

“I honestly can’t believe she picked you, of all dudes,” Yugyeom sighs. “Lucky!”

“Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that,” he winces. “I’ll kill you.”

“Big words coming from you, Jeon.”

“Hey, do you guys want to go ice skating after this? They’re gonna close the rink soon,”
Hyeri jumps in, pushing Yugyeom’s desk away with a hand.

Never in his life has he been so happy to see her.

In all fairness, though, she did try to make him eat a tadpole in kindergarten.

He looks to Nayeon, standing behind her friend. “Do you want to go?”

She beams.

Kim Nayeon is the kind of girl who deserves to beam all the time.

Man, he’s really been dropping the ball, lately.

“I’m buying,” he specifies.

“Yah, Jeongguk,” Hyeri teases, “that was so cool of you!”

“I didn’t say I was paying for you,” he retorts, and she pulls her tongue out. “Only Nayeon.”

Yugyeom bats his eyelashes at him. “Not even your best bro? Man, you’re cheap.”

Nayeon steps on his foot— a happy accident. “Girlfriend privileges.”

He looks to the front of the classroom, where their teacher is animatedly chatting with one of
their classmates, and he motions to grab Nayeon’s hand.

She deserves to beam all the time.

Little by little, his life molds itself into a new shape. Things start falling into place.

Classes ease up, snow starts melting, buds growing on the trees he walks past on his way to
the gym. He’s still nowhere close to booking a room, but he’s narrowed his search to two
establishments, at least.

Nayeon’s been surprisingly patient about the whole ordeal.

Hoseok still sits in on most of their practices, his cast now adorned with as many stickers and
sharpied drawings Jimin and him find lying around.

They’ve slowly been making progress, Jeongguk feeling it easier and easier to let his body
feel the music, less and less focused on doing the right steps, and going with his gut, instead.

That, and Jimin’s dumbass grimaces in the mirror help him unclench, for sure.

Namjoon has taken to calling them the terrible twos, and Jeongguk is strangely pleased by the
thought. It’s nice to feel like he belongs, like he’s part of the unit, and not Jeon Jeongguk, the
high school senior, seat filler.

“Yah, Jeongguk-ah,” Hoseok claps from his seat, “That was a good one!”

“I can do better,” he says, wiping sweat off his brow with his sleeve. He knows he can.

He’s getting the hang of it, being sexy— he thinks. At this point, he just pretends he’s Jimin,
and that seems to do the trick.

“What if we did like, a slut drop there instead of just sitting down?” Jimin offers, “This way
we don’t have to rush back up, might make the transition smoother.”

He nods. “Then we do a little flick of like—”

Jimin hums. “Yeah, yeah, that works, and we go back to—”

“First position yeah,” Jeongguk replies, grin growing on his face.

“Damn, you guys are in sync today,” Hoseok remarks, and Jeongguk smiles.

“Things just click, sometimes. Right, Jeongguk-ah?” he brings him close, messes up his hair.
“Hey, are you gonna keep your hair down for the performance? You look cute like this!”

He pulls it back. “Thought we weren’t batting for cute.”

“Well, you can’t beat that heat,” Jimin jokes, shimmying around him, “so maybe it’s better
for you to go for a different look.”

He pouts. “Are you saying I’m not hot, hyung?”

Jimin’s smile grows bigger, and he slaps Hoseok’s shoulder. “You heard it, right? He called
me hyung again— No takebacks, Jeongguk-ah!” he starts shaking their hyung, who sighs
tiredly.

“God, are you like this in class, too? How are you classmates dealing…”

“They kind of have to,” Jimin puffs his chest, “on account of me being valedictorian and all.”

Jeongguk’s eyes widen. “Wait, for real?”

Jimin smiles. “Got the semester results today. I’m top ranked. Again .”

“Jimin-ah!” Hoseok beams, “You should have told us sooner, Namjoonie would have treated
you!”

“We could get drinks after this,” Namjoon offers, and Jimin shakes his head.

“Last time we did that, I had to carry both of you out. You guys can’t handle alcohol, and
Jeonggukie can’t drink yet. I’ll take my congratulations in the form of outrageous
compliments,” he boasts, turning towards Jeongguk. “Starting with you. Go on, tell me how
amazing I am.”

Jeongguk wrinkles his nose with a grin. “I mean, you’re okay, I guess.”

“How dare you! Brat!” Jimin means to kick him, but he dodges.

“I’m joking, joking! Hyung’s the coolest—”

“Doesn’t feel very sincere, Jeongguk-ah. Hyung’s gonna have to beat your ass to teach you
how to respect your elders!”

They playfight, fuck around for a bit and by the end of the evening, they haven’t really
worked up a sweat. They still walk to the locker room exhausted, though, Hoseok insisting on
having them stretch within an inch of their life.

“Hey, are you going somewhere, after this?” Jeongguk asks as Jimin switches from his tank
top to a torn tee.
They can’t get drinks, but maybe they could go back to that chicken place. That was kind of
nice, the first time.

Jimin hums. “Oh, I was gonna go clubbing. Itaewon, something like that. Why do you wanna
know?”

Nevermind, then.

“Aren’t you tired, after a whole day and evening dancing?”

Jimin scoffs. “Course I’m tired. But like, school is school. And this is for fun.”

“So what’s clubbing for, then?”

He sticks out his tongue, makes a crude V with his fingers.

Jeongguk squirms. “Ew.”

“Grow up, dude. You’re gonna have to eat pussy one day.”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re so crass, sometimes.”

Jimin smirks. “I just tell it like it is.”

He looks down, twiddling his thumbs nervously. Actually.

Actually…

Hoseok is far enough away that he wouldn’t hear, so.

No. He can’t ask. That’s too much, right?

He’s been wondering, lately. Tried to listen around class, see who’d potentially know about
shit, but no luck.

“So you’ve uh, done that before, right?”

Jimin snorts. “Yeah.”

“Is there, uh, something I should know—”

Oh, no. He shouldn’t have asked. He regrets the words as soon as they leave his lips, because
Jimin slides close to him, sticking a lollipop in his mouth, smug as a cat. “Are you asking
hyung for sex advice, Jeongguk-ah? Are we that close?”

“Forget I said anything,” he groans, slamming the locker door.

“No, come on, ask away. You know the magic word,” Jimin grins, zipping up his jacket.

He sighs.
This is for Nayeon, he tells himself. She deserves a real guy, someone who’s not afraid of this
sort of… stuff. And he can’t bring himself to ask Yugyeom for the magazines he said he stole
from his dad, so.

He turns on his heels. “ Hyung .”

“Yes?” Jimin’s grin is as wide as the sun.

“Do you have tips on…” he tries to gesture.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to be more specific, Jeongguk-ah.”

His ears are burning hot.

“Ugh! Fine, do you have tips on, uhm. On…” He twists his hands together.

It’s such a nasty word.

Why couldn’t they call it something else? Something cute, and not at all scary.

“...Eating pussy?” Jimin finishes his sentence for him, seemingly taking pity on him.

He feels so small. Covered in sweat. “Yeah,” he answers pitifully.

Jimin giggles. Actually has the fucking gall to giggle. “Kay, show me what we’re working
with,” he says, pushing the lollipop against Jeongguk’s lips. “Tongue out.”

“Wait, does size matter for that too?” he panics. Is his tongue too small? Oh, God .

Jimin sticks out his own. “Helps if you know how to use it.”

Jesus, that’s a long tongue.

Jimin sighs, grabbing him by the shoulder. “Jeongguk-ah. I’m taking the piss out of you.
Don’t stress out that much. Some girls don’t even like that!”

“They don’t?” he asks, a little too hopeful.

In a corner of his mind, the diagram from his biology book taunts him. The whole…
architecture of the thing seemed alien to him, too complicated to even try to comprehend.

“Yeah. Just ask your girlfriend if it comes to it. If she wants it, I’m sure she’ll give you
pointers.”

“Pointers to what?” Hoseok chimes in, and Jeongguk feels himself physically shrivel up like
a date.

“I’m teaching Jeongguk how to give good head,” Jimin deadpans, and Hoseok guffaws.

“Are you crazy?! That’s like asking a newborn to drive a car! Don’t listen to him, Jeongguk-
ah. One time, he came to practice with the biggest shiner, because a girl actually kneed him in
the face—”

“How many times do I have to tell you,” Jimin protests, “she came unexpectedly, and I didn’t
have time to dodge on account of like, being nose deep in her—”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Jeongguk squeaks, taking a step back. “Thanks for the tips, hyung,
I’m gonna head out. Congratulations on the grades again!”

“Happy to help,” Jimin waves at him cheekily. “Oh, and fighting !”

Right. Yeah. Fighting.

If the abalone staring him right in the face isn’t proof his life is but one giant cosmic joke,
then Jeongguk doesn’t know what is.

“You’re not hungry?” his mother asks as he stares at the steaming clams in his bowl.

He’d actually forgotten tonight was family night, with his brother attending dinner and being
fed like a prince.

Which— calm down, he’s an engineering major.

“I had snacks with my dance hyungs,” Jeongguk says, squinting at the thing like it hurt him.

“Oh, how’s that going?” his brother asks, and he chews on his cheek.

The thing with Junghwan, really, is that his life seems designed to make Jeongguk’s look bad.

Where Jeongguk struggles with school, Junghwan shines. Every little thing, he’s done right.
Which only makes Jeongguk’s lack of accomplishments so far more visible.

He glares at his plate. “Fine. It’s just a club, you know. No big deal.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Junghwan says, good-naturedly. “Appa says you’re getting quite
good!”

Tss—Like he cares.

“Yeah, whatever,” he says, pushing a clam off his bowl. “I’m just glad exams are over, so I
actually have time to practice.”

“How often do you guys meet up?”

“Once a week. Twice sometimes. The other hyungs are pretty busy.”

His brother opens his mouth, no doubt to ask another question Jeongguk truly can’t be assed
to answer, but their mother interrupts him by pushing a plate of pa kimchi in front of him.
“Jeongguk-ah, did you know Junghwan’s top of his grade again? Ranked first! Why don’t
you congratulate him?”

Ah, that explains the abalone.

“Congratulations, hyung,” he reluctantly mouths.

Seriously, does everything have to be a damn competition between them?

“Ah, Eomma, Jeongguk doesn’t want to hear about boring school stories. I bet you’d rather
forget it even exists, right? I remember my last year of high school, a total nightmare. I don’t
know how you even find the energy to dance! It’s admirable, really.”

“Let’s just hope all that dancing didn’t get in the way of his entrance exams,” their father
says, and Jeongguk stabs a clam with his chopsticks.

Junghwan smiles. “I’m sure you did great.”

He looks up, pointedly ignoring his brother in favor of their mother. “Actually, a few
classmates wanted to get together later this week before we get our results. Is it okay if I go?”

“Junghwan, you should take a second serving home, you can’t keep eating convenience store
food like that, you’ll get sick.”

“Eomma,” Junghwan sighs, “I have food at home.”

This is a joke, right?

Is he invisible? Did he suddenly move to another plane of reality?

“Snacks aren’t good for you in the long run, you know.”

Oh, this is so much. The fake concern, the goddamn clams, Jimin’s tongue taunting him.

Is he with a girl, right now?

He must be.

In his plate, the abalone deflates like a balloon.

Creepy little fucker.

He gets up. “Uh, actually, I feel kind of sick, I’m gonna go lay down—”

Their mother finally, finally looks at him. “Did you catch a cold dancing? Yah, I told you it
wasn’t a good idea to go to the gym in the dead of winter—”

“I’m fine, I think I just had too much sugar.”

“If he’s not eating, I’m taking his abalone, we can’t waste it like that,” Jeongguk’s father
says, grabbing it with his chopsticks.
The shellfish twirls in between them, almost pulsing.

Gah, he’s going to throw up—

“Uhm, hyung can have the rest,” Jeongguk says, pushing the pot as far away from him as
possible.

He already has everything else anyway.

A knock on the door makes him take his earbud off.

“Jeongguk-ah, it’s me. I’m leaving,” his brother says, and Jeongguk only hums.

Good riddance.

“Hey,” Junghwan adds, stepping in his bedroom.

“Yeah?”

His brother hovers awkwardly, his hands sticking into his jeans’ pockets. “I meant what I said
at dinner, you know. I’m glad you have friends and hobbies. Eomma and Appa might not see
it that way, but it’s important to have a social life.”

Jeongguk almost rolls his eyes. Can’t he just leave already?

“You didn’t have any, and you turned out great,” he mumbles, and perfect, spotless Junghwan
falters.

“Don’t fall into that trap, Jeongguk-ah. Part of growing up is learning to look past
appearances.”

He raises an uninterested eyebrow. “Sure.”

His brother sits on the bed, clearly uncomfortable. “Anyway. I wanted to give you this. I
don’t know if I’ll be able to make it to your graduation, I submitted my service application
last month, but this will hopefully make up for it,” he holds an old ID card, and Jeongguk
takes it with a scowl.

“You’re enlisting? Why?”

Why now is what he means. Junghwan has a good few years ahead of him before hitting the
deadline. This doesn’t make sense.
The bed dips underneath the added weight of his brother. “Let’s just say I could catch a break
from school.”

He takes it in, Junghwan’s straight posture, the stiff stiff shoulders, the coiffed back hair.

Huh.

Maybe there is more than meets the eye.

“Why are you giving me this? You can throw your own trash away, ” Jeongguk flips the card
in his hands.

Junghwan shrugs.“I figured you could make use of it. You know, when you go out with your
friends.”

His eyes grow big. “You mean…”

His brother smiles. “Don’t snitch on me if you get caught. And don’t be stupid. Only buy soju
and beer. None of the expensive shit, that’s such a red flag.”

Woah.

Okay, what else has he misjudged tonight?

“Thanks, hyung,” he says, and his brother raises a hand, as if to pet his hair.

It’s a gesture he remembers, like muscle memory, something Junghwan used to do when
Jeongguk was still in elementary school.

“You work hard, too. You deserve some fun,” he says instead, dusting his thighs before
getting up. “And uh. I’m sorry, for tonight. For what it’s worth, I don’t like it when they do
that.”

Their eyes meet for a second longer than necessary.

“Thanks,” Jeongguk says, because that’s as much as he’s willing to acknowledge that whole
clusterfuck out there.

“Oh, and uhm,” Junghwan adds, scratching the side of his nose, “Can you not tell Eomma
and Appa about my military service? I’d never hear the end of it.”

He shrugs, mumbling a vague “sure”, waiting for his brother to leave his room before falling
down on his bed with a sigh.

Exhaustion is really starting to seeping into every bone in his body, and he absentmindedly
wonders how Jimin functions enough to do this all day, and all night.

Though who knows how long he actually dances for when he goes to bars. For all Jeongguk
knows, he’s effectively…
Yeah, no, he can’t think about that right now.

His phone buzzes on his nightstand, and he picks it up, smiling at a text Yugyeom sent him
earlier. He also has a bunch of messages from Hoseok, urging him to disregard any kind of
advice coming from Jimin on account of him being an idiot.

He scoffs.

There are two more messages from Nayeon, letting him know she’s back from piano practice,
and he presses call without thinking.

The phone rings twice before picking up. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Oh, hey. You came home late,” Nayeon remarks.

“Family dinner tonight, I forgot.”

She laughs. “Classic Jeon Jeongguk.”

She’s not wrong. “You’ll never guess what my brother gave me, out of the blue.”

“What?”

He picks up the card next to him. “His old ID. I think he thinks we don’t know how to buy
booze without getting caught,” he laughs.

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah.”

“Yugyeom’s cousin is so fickle though, that would actually be useful.”

He clears his throat.

In his mind, Jimin’s advice merges with the song lyrics they’ve been listening to on repeat.

Don’t hesitate any longer, as much as you’ve waited, I’ve waited for this day too

“I was thinking, we could use it to book a room. Something better than the stuff I found.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line, and he almost asks Nayeon if she’s okay, but she
suddenly squeals. “Really?!”

He scratches the side of his nose. “I mean, if that’s something you’re still interested in, I
don’t want to assume—”

“No, no, this is perfect. This lines up perfectly,” she says, and something about that makes
him frown. “When were you thinking?”
“Uh, I don’t know. Your Fridays are free, right?”

“Yeah. My dad works the night shift at the hospital and Eomma goes to bingo with the
neighbors. It’s just my stupid brother, but he won’t notice I’m gone. I’ll just tell him I’m
going to the library.”

She’s so organized, he realizes as he stares at the mess in his own room.

“I told my parents we’d all go celebrate the end of exams, soon, so… I can make Friday
work, I think? Or next week, if that’s too soon.”

“Are you kidding? Friday can’t come soon enough.”

His stomach growls. “Ah, yeah. Okay, Friday it is, then.”

“Friday,” she sighs.

She sounds so happy.

Why can’t he be happy?

“How was your lesson, by the way?” he asks.

She groans.“Soooo boring. If I have to play Fantasie-impromptu another time, I’m going to
scream. How was practice?”

“Good. Hobi-hyung’s leg is healing. They’re taking the cast off in three weeks.”

“Nice! I know you wanted to dance with him.”

“Ah, Jimin-hyung’s okay. Did I tell you he’s actually majoring in dance?”

“Really? He must be ripped.”

He stirs, pouts a little. “I’m ripped too.”

She giggles. “Are you jealous? Is that why I’ve never met your dance hyungs?”

“I’ve never met your piano teacher.”

“She’s fifty-six.” Nayeon answers playfully. “Do you want to? Word of warning, she slaps
the back of your hands with a ruler if you mess up an arpeggio.”

“You must not mess up often.”

“I’m good like that,” she answers proudly. “According to her, I could even go pro, if I
wanted.”

“Is that why you haven’t quit yet?”

“No, that’s because my parents would drop dead if I did,” she sighs. “You should know. Your
parents are strict too.”

“Compared to yours? Mine are hippy-dippy laid back. Or maybe they just don’t care because
I’m younger,” he muses.

He thinks back to Junghwan earlier, and the list of accomplishments his mother recited like
the Bible. Maybe he gets his brother’s desire to enlist a little better, now.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

He stirs. “You should have seen them tonight. Whenever Junghwan’s around, it’s like I
disappear, poof!”

“Ah, they probably miss having him around. They’ll get like that with you too, when you
move out.”

He scoffs. “I’d have to get into university to move out.”

“Jeongguk-ah,” she sighs, and he knows he’s being unfair, because this is something they’ve
talked about enough by now that he already knows what she’s about to say, “You’re going to
get in.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Well, I believe in you. Busan’s going to be so lucky to have you, you’ll see.”

They talk for a little longer, the sound of Nayeon’s voice lulling him into a sense of comfort.

The conversation circles back to her own applications, results looming in closer, and her
detailed plan should by some mistake not get into law school. Each potential nightmare
scenario has its own fallback plan, and another one if that fails, too.

This is why he likes her, he reminds himself. In a world where Jeongguk is petrified by
decisions and unknowns, having someone like her, so sure of herself, is reassuring. Like a
captain steering a ship, Nayeon’s drive is infaillible.

He wishes her good night, looking at the ceiling, the events of the day playing on loop.

He looks at his watch.

Two a.m.

Maybe Jimin’s still awake.

He pulls out his phone, finds Jimin’s number saved in there — Hoseok made him, when he
first signed up, and texts:
Hyung

You really were joking about tongue size, right

Right?

He falls asleep before he ever gets an answer.

“So tonight’s the night, huh,” Jimin whispers as Namjoon launches into yet another speech
about a popping competition he’d like them to attend in the summer.

He looks down at the red skin around his wrist.

Patchy, worried blotches he kept rubbing all day with more anxiety than eagerness.

It’s funny, now that they’ve spent a solid month together, any sense of rivalry he might have
felt regarding Jimin has all but vanished. Sure, they still have their differences, from time to
time, but Jeongguk knows enough by now to know when to push it, or leave it alone.

He lowers his head. “Yeah. Tonight’s the night.”

He’d decided to only let Jimin know, considering he was going to skip most of practice today,
and texted him beforehand to avoid the embarrassment of having to tell him face to face.

He should have known the other boy wouldn’t let it go that easy.

On the hardwood floor, Jimin’s hand finds his, fingers grabbing at him until Jeongguk feels
something drop in the palm of his hand. “Brought you a little gift,” he whispers into his ear. “
But if anyone asks, you didn’t get these from me.”

His gaze drops to the condoms now resting in his hand.

He supposes one can never be too prepared.

“Uh, are those gonna fit, like—”

Jimin snorts. “I’ve you’re trying to imply you have a master dong, leave it. I’ve seen you
before.”

“Quit perving on people in the locker room, maybe?”

“You’re the only one staring at the floor when we change, dude. Stop worrying—most guys
are the same size.”

“Yeah, okay.” He blinks. “Wait. Do you all look at each other when we change?!”
“I’m not looking to make eye contact with anyone’s dick, if that’s what you’re asking. I just
don’t care.”

He clears his throat. “Must be refreshing.”

“Feel ready?”

He gulps. “As I’ll ever be.”

Jimin looks at him, worry flashing across his face for a micro-second. “Hey, relax.
Remember your body knows how to do its job.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Can you two please, please pay attention?” Namjoon begs, “I’m trying to say something.”

“Sorry, hyung,” Jeongguk mouths, pocketing the condoms as quick as he can. No need for the
rest of the group to know where he’s going once their team meeting is over.

And to his credit, he tries to pay attention, really, he does. But Namjoon’s words are drowned
by the thought of Nayeon, probably getting ready to meet up, and the condoms burning a hole
in his pocket.

He’s ready.

He’s ready.

He isn’t ready.

Thirty-five minutes.

That’s how long he’s been waiting outside the gym, unable to even take a single step towards
his bike.

This is bad. Really, really bad.

In his back pocket, his phone is vibrating off the hook, Nayeon no doubt getting worried.

Come on Jeongguk.

Just move.
Someone taps him on the shoulder.

Everything is blurry.

“Jeongguk-ah..?” a voice—Jimin’s— asks.

He blinks. “Hyung.”

“Why are you still here? I thought you were supposed to, you know,” he says, eyeing him
insistently.

He’s ready.

He should be ready.

Fuck.

Come on, dude! Move!

“Hyung,” he says again, because his chest is starting to feel tight, and his heart is beating
through his ears.

He’s not ready.

“Jeongguk?”

“I can’t go,” he hacks out. “I just can’t. My phone’s blowing up like crazy, and I can’t move
—”

Oh God, is this a heart attack? Over this?!

That’s so fucking lame!

“Just breathe,” Jimin says, his voice sounding through his own cotton ball of a brain.
“Breathe with me. That’s it, in through the nose, out through the mouth.”

Ugh, he feels dizzy.

“I can’t go,” he repeats, and Jimin places a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re not going,” he says, taking his cellphone away. “Right now, let’s just focus on your
breathing. Wanna walk with me? We can go to my place, it’s not too far from here.”

He nods, trying to keep his chin from trembling. Those shivers are bad, man. It’s not even
cold out.

Between them, the phone screen lights up again, Nayeon’s name flashing across it.
He’s going to explode.

“Remember. In, and out,” Jimin says again, hiding the phone in his jacket pocket. “Come on.
Let’s go.”

It takes him the entire walk from the gym to Jimin’s home to breathe normally, and that’s not
even counting the two times they stop by the side of the road for Jeongguk to wipe his own
forehead, taking a deep breath.

Talk about screwing the pooch.

“And this is us,” Jimin says, stopping in front of an older building. “I’m warning you, it’s
kinda small.”

He shakes his head. “That’s fine. Thanks for doing this.”

Jimin steps in, climbing a flight of rickety stairs slowly, turning to make sure Jeongguk
follows.

He jams the key in a painted blue door, cursing under his breath when it catches on the lock.
“Come on, you finicky old bitch. Open—”

The door finally unlocks, and Jeongguk lets his eyes adjust to the dark.

Well, he didn’t lie. The apartment is small, Jeongguk notes as he stares at the worn-out walls
and shoes stacking up in the entryway. Doesn’t look like there’s more than two rooms.
“Come in,” Jimin says without fanfare. “You can leave your shoes next to mine.”

His fingers are thankfully a little steadier than they were outside, and Jeongguk manages to
unlace his sneakers without too much trouble.

“Um,” Jimin says, looking mildly upset as he points to his feet, “What are those?”

“What do you mean? They’re socks,” he scowls.

“ Toe socks , Jeongguk, really?”

He flushes. “What’s wrong with them?! They’re good for athlete’s foot and shit!”
“Instant boner killer, oh my God— “ Jimin cringes. “Your girlfriend should be thankful you
ditched her.”

He takes a sharp breath.

“Sorry,” Jimin bites his bottom lip. “Too soon?”

Definitely too soon.

“S’fine,” he replies, taking a step into the cramped apartment.

Jimin pushes him back with an index. “Oh no, you’re waiting here until I find you some
slides. I’m not letting those monstrosities in. I’m like, seconds away from barfing.”

“Some welcome you give,” Jeongguk grumbles under his breath.

Jimin’s head is deep into a drawer when he answers: “Don’t be smart with me, I could take
back my invitation. You deserve it. Fucking toe socks , I swear. Here, grab these,” he says,
throwing a pair of slides his way.

Jeongguk slips them on absent-mindedly, taking in his surroundings now that the light is on.

“Yeah, nothing to see here,” Jimin shrugs, motioning to him to follow. “Bathroom’s on the
right if you need to take a piss or something.”

“Are your parents working late, or…?”

“They’re on the night shift. Pays a little better than their day job. Though to be honest, it’s
not much either.”

Right. Scholarship. He forgot about that.

“Hyung,” he starts as Jimin steps into the kitchen, foraging into the beat-up fridge.

“Do you want kimbap with your ramyeon or something? I think we have some left.”

“Hyung,” he says again, throat tight. “I don’t need to eat.”

Jimin straightens up, peering at him. “Yeah, you do. Don’t you dare make me feel
embarrassed about my house. You’re eating and that’s final. Now sit down.”

“There’s really no need to—”

“Gah— there’s mayonnaise in this one, gross!” Jimin’s face scrunches up as he takes a bite
straight out of the roll. “Here, have it. That would only make me barf anyway.”

“Thanks.”

He takes a seat on the carpeted floor, knees touching the small table sitting in between him
and Jimin. With a practiced hand, the other boy fills a kettle with water, turning the stove on
with the other, and picks up two packs of ramyeon from a cupboard.
“Kimchi okay?’

“Sure.”

They wait in silence, Jeongguk awkwardly munching on his gimbap, too busy trying not to
make eye contact with Jimin or anything in his apartment, really.

“You can relax, you know.”

He stiffens up even more. “Sorry.”

The other boy pushes a steaming bowl of ramyeon in front of him. “Eat up.”

More awkward silence.

Maybe he should just leave—

“Fuck, this is awkward. I don’t even know where to start,” Jimin sighs. “That’ll teach me to
act on impulse.”

He looks up. “I’m—”

“If you say sorry one more time, I swear.”

“Okay, fine, what do you want me to say? You’re the one who invited me in.”

Jimin’s mouth twists sideways. “Honestly, you didn’t see your face earlier. You were all
green and shit. I thought you were going to pass out, I kind of freaked out.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t that far from it,” Jeongguk winces, stirring his noodles.

“Wanna talk about it?”

His stomach is still twisted in a thousand knots so, no.

“Or,” Jimin offers, “We could just watch tv, and chill.”

Man, he’s really trying.

Jeongguk’s fingers clench around the bowl. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

The question seems to startle Jimin, who tilts his head to the side. “What do you mean? Why
wouldn’t I be? You were crying .”

God, that’s embarrassing.

“I’m sorry.”

Jimin’s punch hits his shoulder with a soft thud.

“Ow, what the fuck?!”

“Told you to stop saying sorry!”

“You didn’t say you were going to hit me!”

“That was implied. Are you feeling better, now?”

“I was starting to, before you decided to use me as a punching bag!”

“Yeah, well. Talk shit, get hit.”

He scoffs. “I don’t think that’s what the saying is supposed to mean.”

“There it is,” Jimin says, pointing at Jeongguk’s face. “That textbook shitstain smile.”

He feels his cheeks color, and he stirs a little, avoiding Jimin’s eyes and choosing to focus on
his noddles instead. “Do you always eat alone?”

The other boy stretches, pushing his now empty bowl away. “Pretty much, yeah. School is
still expensive, even with financial aid.”

He looks up, Jimin’s face twisted in a familiar expression. Guilt, shame, whatever you wanna
call it.

“I’m sure they do it because they believe in you.”

“They’re just stupid and proud. I told them I could take a side job after school, but they didn’t
want me exhausting myself. My dad thinks it’s the natural order of things, him working
himself to the bone while I fuck around and do dumb shit with you guys.”

“You don’t really, though.”

“What?”

“Fuck around. You work hard.”

Jimin’s gaze meets his, surprisingly vulnerable in that instant. “You really think so?”

Jeongguk nods firmly. “Yeah. You kicked my ass with that choreo, remember?”

He grins. “Yeah, I did! You got good at it fast, like I thought you would, though. So
annoying! It always takes me forever to learn my steps.”

“What are you talking about!” he retorts, nudging him with his foot. “It took me an entire
month not to look like a scarecrow, and I still suck at looking like…”

Like I want to have sex.

He chews on his lip. “Do you think I’m weird?”

“Define weird.”
“I don’t think I’m ready to have sex, yet.”

Jimin hums, lets his shoulder rest on Jeongguk’s. “Nah. It just wasn’t your time. I’m sorry for
giving you the rubbers. I didn’t realize…”

His eyes grow wide. “It’s not that! I just.. I think I was only doing it for her.”

“Your girlfriend?”

He slumps down, letting his head rest on a cushion smelling of menthols and Jimin’s familiar
scent.

“Yeah.”

“What’s she like? And don’t say pretty, or nice.”

He takes a deep breath, head rolling on the carpet. “Nayeon is… perfect. She’s the smartest
girl in our grade, everybody loves her.”

“Can’t be too smart, if she’s dating you,” Jimin jokes.

“I never really got what she saw in me. I mean, she could have had anyone. Instead, she went
for… yeah,” he sighs.

Jimin lies down next to him, hands crossed on his chest. “Sometimes, that’s sort of the point,
though. When you have your pick of the litter, you want the person who doesn’t want you
back.”

“I want her back, though.”

The knowing look Jimin throws his way says everything. “You said everyone loves her.
Didn’t hear you say you do.”

He flushes. “Love’s a big word.”

“Exactly. Maybe your first time shouldn’t be with someone you only sort of love.”

He winces. “Of all people, I thought you’d be the one to tell me to go for it.”

Jimin sighs. “Just because I like fooling around now doesn’t mean I was always like this.”

It’s weird for him, picturing a Jimin that isn’t the one facing him right now. Someone a little
shyer maybe, sitting alone at the kitchen table to cram on his homework.

He turns around. “You ever been in love?”

Jimin’s eyes are closed when he answers. “Sure.”

“What’s it like?”
Jimin doesn’t judge, doesn’t say anything for a while. “It’s like… nothing makes sense. Up is
down, left is right. Suddenly one person has you in the palm of their hand, and you go nuts at
the thought of seeing them. And they take so much space in your life, they eclipse everything
else. At least that’s what I think.”

He hums. “Sounds intense.”

“It is.” Jimin looks up. “‘S too much, sometimes.”

Another piece of a puzzle falls into place, one he didn’t realize he was building.

He takes a good look around him, the medals on the walls, the half-finished bags of snacks,
dance gear hanging from the closet door. It’s all so strangely devoid of people, the only trace
of love being a few photographs of what Jeongguk safely assumes are Jimin’s parents next to
the tv stand.

“Is that why you go out?” he asks shyly, afraid to pry. Maybe Jimin doesn’t want him to
know.

“I don’t really have space for anything else,” Jimin confirms. “There’s only dance. The rest
is…” he trails off, mimicking a confetti drop.

And because it’s almost midnight, and because he’s lying right there, next to Jimin, a guy
he’s never shared much with other than a love for performing, he finally admits: “I’ve never
even kissed her, you know. Nayeon.”

“What?”

“Not once.”

Jimin frowns. “But, I thought— The DVD Room…”

“That’s why I was freaked out. She hasn’t tried to kiss me either.”

He looks down, chewing on his lip, waiting for Jimin to mock him, gently rib him, anything.
Instead, a look of recognition passes across Jimin’s face, and the other dancer opens his
mouth in a perfect Oh . “So, wait, does that mean you’ve never—”

He winces. “Yeah. I’ve never kissed anyone.”

“Oh, Jeongguk-ah…”

And there it is. Textbook pity, laced in Jimin’s words.

He turns over, hiding into the cushion. “And this is exactly why I shouldn’t have told you.
That look on your face—”

The other boy just rolls his eyes.“Stop being such a baby, the only person making a big deal
out of this is you. So what, you haven’t kissed your girl? You’ll kiss her— or some other girl
someday. Although,” Jimin grimaces, “this one might break up with you before that. I don’t
know that I’d forgive my boyfriend for ditching me like that.”

Jeongguk whines , hiding his face in his hands as reality hits him. “Oh my God— she’s going
to be so mad at me!” There’s a soft giggle coming from his left side, and he scowls. “Don’t
laugh! This is gonna suck!”

“It’s just kind of amazing, when you think of it. You literally stood there, like a beanpole—“

“Shut up, you’re so annoying—“ Jeongguk grunts, as he pushes Jimin away, who keeps
laughing until tears start rolling down his face, and Jeongguk starts smiling too.

Then laughs. “I’m so going to hell for this. I’m dead. I’m literally dead! She’s going to tear
me to shreds the second I see her.”

“Want one of my cups? You might wanna protect the goods.”

“She would never hit me, come on.”

“Maybe not her, but… Does she have a brother?”

“Oh, fuck , her brother,” Jeongguk pales, and Jimin laughs even harder.

“Can you at least try to survive until the showcase? I don’t wanna dance alone.”

Jeongguk punches his shoulder, hyung be damned. “Of course that’s what you’d care about—
ugh, you’re the worst!”

“Correction, I’m the best. Also, be nice, you’re in my house right now, eating my mom’s
food, rolling on my carpet— wait you’re like that Goldiclock girl!”

“Don’t you mean Goldilock?”

Jimin grabs him by his cheeks, eyes full of mirth, and presses his forehead against his: “What
else are you planning to steal, huh? My socks? My secret to perfectly mussed-up hair?”

He scoffs. “I don’t think rolling out of bed and calling it a day is as much a secret as you
think it is.”

“How dare you! This is a whole thing to put on in the morning. And girls love it, by the way.”

“Now, that is a mystery to me,” Jeongguk sighs. “I kinda get why Hobi-hyung has girls
wrapped around his finger, but you…“

“Hey!”

“I’m sorry but like, do they not see that you’re a player?”

Jimin’s smile turns smug. “I’d argue that’s exactly what they like, actually. I’m also an
excellent kisser.”
He groans. “Of course you are.” He blinks. “Wait— you said there was no real science to it,
you liar!”

“That was before I knew you hadn’t even gone through first base, man,” Jimin snickers
again. “Kissing you can get good at. Just practice or something.”

“Like, on a dummy?” Jeongguk grimaces, and Jimin quickly follows.

“God, no— a dummy? What the fuck— just, I don’t know, your hand, a pillow. Something.”

And you know, there’s something to be said about the late hours of a night where emotional
events have transpired. Those hours when you get tired enough, and definitely stupid enough
to say things you know you’ll regret in the morning, things like: “– or you could show me.”

Jimin stops laughing then. “What?”

“If you’re such a great kisser! You could show me.”

It kind of makes sense in his head. Jeongguk is a visual learner, and there’s a chance Jimin
might not be totally talking out of his ass.

“Dude,” Jimin starts carefully, “I’m a good hyung, but I’m not that good. I’m not kissing you,
you can figure that one out on your own!”

Wait. What?

Oh no. Oh no no no no.

“I don’t want you to kiss me!” Jeongguk panics.

Jimin’s eyes are owlishly wide. “See anyone else in the room?”

“I meant your pillow! Or your hand like you said!”

Jimin frowns. “What?! That’s even worse! I’m not gonna kiss my hand in front of you, what
the fuck?!”

“So you’d kiss me before you kiss your own hand?” Jeongguk guffaws, trying to understand
the logic.

“Yeah!” There’s a pause, then, as Jimin stares into Jeongguk’s eyes, and they both seem to
realize what was just said, and—

“No,” Jimin firmly repeats. “I’m not doing that.”

Jeongguk nods. “Yeah, no. Understood.”

“Yeah.”

“Huh-huh.”
Jimin licks his lips.

Which— why would you even pay attention to that, Jeongguk?

In the morning, when he gets time to think about all the stupid things that transpired the night
before, this is exactly the moment he’ll pinpoint as the beginning of the end. That moment
where he stares at Jimin’s face, resting next to him on the carpet, and thinks about the curve
of his lips in a way that he should definitely not think of.

As in. Pretty.

Everything that follows afterward is a giant mess.

“Stop staring,” Jimin admonishes, but it’s too late for Jeongguk to feel any shame, apparently.

“Stop licking your lips, then!”

“Oh my God, you do want me to kiss you.”

“As if!”

“You want me so bad,” Jimin jokes, poking a finger into his chest.

“Right, because I ran away from my perfect, beautiful girlfriend to spend the night with a boy
from the wrong side of the tracks. That makes sense.”

“See? Told you girls like bad boys,” Jimin smirks.

“I’m not a girl.”

“Too bad.”

Yeah, too bad.

So maybe Jimin’s hand is on his neck. And maybe that’s not the worst thing in the world.

“Are you really that scared?” Jimin asks gently after a while. In the dark, his features are
softer, unfocused. Like the bravado and sharp cheekbones are a costume he wears only in the
daylight.

He stirs. “It’s just… I don’t like not being good at stuff, not being in control. You know that.”

“I do,” Jimin’s eyes grow fond, or like— some shade of that. “Hey, I know this is going to be
a tough one to understand, but— if you want a kiss, or anything, really, to be good. You have
to allow yourself to let go.”

Has he ever been so acutely aware of someone else’s proximity?

“Hyung,” he hears himself ask.

A thumb caresses the back of his ear.

“You really wanna know?”

He breathes in. Out. Nods, and watches Jimin take it all in.

The dancer’s eyes flicker to his lips, then back up.

Time’s standing still.

“Just this once,” Jimin finally murmurs. “Just this one time.”

His heart’s in his throat. “Yeah.”

“And we never talk about it again.”

He shakes his head. “Never.”

In retrospect. The fact that every single cell in his body is screaming for this to happen should
have been a dead giveaway, but then again—

Jimin kisses him.

Oh shit.

Oh, wow .

Oh, this is not at all what he thought kissing would be like.

It’s… soft, slow. Warm lips nipping at his almost shyly.

And before he even gets to think about who, what, what the fuck or even how— Jeongguk
finds himself gripping at Jimin’s shoulders to keep him close, to just never stop whatever
dark magic he’s doing.

Oh, this is terrible . He gets the girls now, he really does.

Jimin’s lips are so warm, and then he does this—this thing with his teeth, biting into
Jeongguk’s lips, that makes him feel hot all over and—

He moans.

Oh— shit.

Jimin stills.

He stills.

The entire world stills, apparently.

“Uh,” he starts, extirping himself from Jimin’s embrace. “That wasn’t, I didn’t mean to—”
“Does that make sense? Do you get it now?” Jimin asks instead, hands still on either side of
Jeongguk’s neck.

Thank God.

“Yeah, definitely. You’re, uh, well. You didn’t lie.”

Jimin’s expression is indecipherable.

“Told ya. And now we never speak of it again.”

“Now we never speak of it again,” he repeats.

 Chapter II: Caterpillar
Chapter Notes

Phew! Okay. Okay, this chapter is finally done. I really thought it wouldn't take me as
long as it did, but that's kind of a classic when you write fanfiction. It's also a lot longer,
so I hope that means more words for you to enjoy!
As a note, I just want to once again warn you that this story does contain angst and
themes that can be hard to deal with (internalized homophobia/biphobia, cheating, etc)
so if, at any point, you feel like this story might not be for you, I urge you not to
continue reading!

Truth be told, I really struggled writing this chapter because I wanted it to stay true to
the characters I made up, and I usually spend a lot of time editing, checking pacing and
character progression, but I almost gave up half a dozen times. I might be burning out a
little. Who knows. I'll do my best to finish this story though, and will probably take a
break after finishing it.

I'd like to thank my lovely beta, Ron, as well as Juls, Hazel, and my little calico friend.
Thank you for reassuring me and letting me lean on you! A GIANT, heartfelt thank you
to all the lovely, lovely friends I made on the discord server for continuously being
inspiring!
Oh, last thing: Happy Pride Month!!!

Here is a link to a Playlist I made, which is somewhat relevant to the AU. Feel free to
listen to it if you're curious!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

 Millennium Bug

Chapter II: Caterpillar

The cold, harsh light of day makes it so much worse.

They must have fallen asleep on the carpet at some point, because Jeongguk wakes up next to
a half-eaten bag of chips and the beads of a cushion digging into his cheek. And now—

He chances a look at Jimin, dead to the world next to him, his lips slightly parted as he snores
softly.

Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck !

As if the situation wasn’t bad enough already, his phone flashes a resounding sixteen missed
calls when he picks it up, and a quick check allows him to peer at the string of texts Nayeon
left for him— all written with an increasing degree of concern and anger.

Fuck !

He tucks his phone back into his pocket, rubbing sleep, regret, and shame out of his eyes.

So— they kissed last night.

That was his first kiss.

With a dude. Worse, a sunbae from his dance club.

God, what is wrong with him?!

Yeah, he needs to book it before Jimin wakes up.

He scrambles, trying to find his jacket and backpack — he kissed a guy— pulling on one
sock —he kissed Jimin— and exits the room as quietly as he can — he kissed Jimin ?!! —
with a quick look behind him.

Jimin hasn’t moved yet, lying on his side in what Jeongguk could only describe as the
opposite of peace. His eyebrows are scrunched together, hair in every direction the wind
blows, and he’s grabbing onto the comforter like it personally hurt his family.
Leave it to Jimin to be angry even in sleep.

Anyway.

He doesn’t have time to question the swirl of emotions raging in the pit of his stomach, nor
does he bother saying goodbye.

Not when there’s some serious damage control to be done.

The flowers he carefully picked out make a resounding thump as they finish their impact in
the trashcan.

“Are you for real? You really think I’m going to forget about this with a bunch of tulips?!”
Nayeon asks, incredulous.

In a whole year of relationship, he’s never heard her raise her voice like this.

It’s kind of (most definitely) warranted, though.

“I’m so, so sorry, Nayeon, that was messed up of me—”

She crosses her arms against her chest. “Yeah, no kidding! I waited! For two hours! Do you
know how embarrassing it was? The doorman was looking at me so weird . It was so
awkward, Jeongguk-ah!”

“I’m sorry—”

“I can’t believe you ditched me,” she repeats, and he looks at his feet, red with shame. “What
happened?!”

Yeah, what happened?

He’s had a whole day to process. Moved the pieces of the puzzle over and over in his head,
trying to make sense of them.

None of it made any sense then, and none of it makes any sense now.

All he can think of is that Jimin was just… there, right next to him, and somehow kissing him
seemed easy .

Nothing’s ever easy with Nayeon.

“Nayeon-ah,” he says, swallowing hard. He has to start somewhere.

Come on. Think, Jeongguk. How do you want that sentence to end?

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“What?”

Oh, this is so much worse than righteous anger. Nayeon’s big, dark eyes are shining, a
stubborn frown barring her beautiful face, and her mouth is contorted in a shaky pout. “Is that
why you didn’t show up? You don’t like me anymore?”

“No! Nayeon, No, I promise. I-I like you—”

“Do you, really?” she asks, “because that’s not what people who like each other do.”

He takes a big gulp of air, desperately trying to give himself countenance. She’s right, she’s
absolutely right. “Listen— the truth is— the truth is…” he tries, the words refusing to come
out.

Come on, dude. Rip the bandaid off.

The tears in her eyes start pooling on her bottom lashes.

“I wasn’t ready.”

There, it’s out.

“I freaked,” he continues, “and the more I waited, the more I got scared that you’d get mad at
me, and then it was just too late.”

She stares and stares, bewildered look on her face, too shocked— or maybe too angry to
answer.

“ Oh .”

He looks down, unable to face her any longer.

“So you were nervous about it too,” she mutters, rubbing the back of her elbow with her
hand.

He looks up. “You too?”

“ Obviously .”

“So why did you even want to go through with it?!”

“I thought it made sense! We’re old enough.”

“We never even kissed!”

She blushes. “I haven’t kissed anyone either, you know. But from what Hyeri said, once you
start it’s hard to stop, so I thought our instincts would take it from there.”
Just this once

Just this time

He shakes his head, willing the images away.

“Ah,” he sighs, his body feeling suddenly boneless. “We went about it the wrong way.”

“Looks like it.” Her eyes move to the bouquet of tulips in the trashcan. “I’m sorry about the
flowers.”

He shakes his head. The flowers are irrelevant. “I’m sorry about leaving you alone. I promise
I won’t do it again.”

She takes his hand in hers, chewing on her lip. “Just don’t lie. I don’t like it when you lie.”

Something small, pebble-sized, really, stirs into his stomach. Nothing big enough to cause a
proper stir, no, just enough to be noticeable.

Does it count as a lie?

“Yeah, no. I won’t. Anything to make you happy, you know.”

It doesn’t, does it?

“I’m only happy if you’re happy,” she says, squeezing his hand lightly. “Don’t decide things
on your own, okay? I was really scared.”

She steps closer, and his heart jumps in his chest when she climbs on the tip of her toes to
clumsily kiss his cheek— right next to his mouth. “I’ll give you time. But maybe do better
than convenience store flowers to make it up to me.”

He nods. “Yeah. I’ll take you out to that cafe you like.”

“I want the castella,” she winks, and he nods again.

His entire body is still cold with fear when she walks away.
“Jimin’s out sick again— apparently there’s a nasty cold going around at his school, and he
caught it,” Namjoon says as soon as Jeongguk drops his bag in the gym.

“Cold, my ass. Bet you that idiot got mono,” Hoseok rolls his eyes, and Jeongguk hovers
awkwardly.

“Uh, did he say how long he’d be out?”

This isn’t happening. He’s spent about thirty minutes anxiously pushing his bangs from one
side to the other, wondering if he could, or should even come in today, only to decide against
ditching because that would have been more awkward than what they’d settled on.

There’s no way this is because of him, right?

Jimin wouldn’t avoid him like that, right?

Hoseok slaps him on the back. “If you’re thinking of cutting your rehearsal time because he’s
not there with you, you can forget about it. You still need to practice, even alone.”

He groans. “Really?”

“Is that nagging I hear?”

A light blush colors his cheeks. “Sorry.”

“Man, you’ve been spending too much time with him. He’s rubbing off on you, with his
sewer rat manners.”

It’s now been two weeks since the Thing. You know, the Thing.

The Thing he isn’t supposed to mention or think of ever again.

Except with Jimin gone, and Namjoon’s nails tapping on the boombox anxiously, it’s all he
can think about.

They said it was going to be fine. That was kind of the whole deal. And look, he gets it,
okay?

But it’s not like he’s waiting for Jimin to ambush him with another kiss.

He made a mistake, he was tired from the day and stressed by the idea of going all the way
with Nayeon, and that was all it was, really, a Freudian slip, a blip—

“Jeongguk,” Hoseok sighs, “Can you please, please focus?”

“Sorry,” he bites his lip, looking at his own reflection in the mirror.

Yeah, Jimin is most definitely avoiding him.

So much for things going back to normal.

The paper he gets back is barred with red ticks, which is more than depressing because
History is actually the one thing he’s usually okay at.

The worst thing about that, though, is that it will earn Jeongguk a trip to the teacher’s lounge,
and there’s little less he wants than a stern talk with his homeroom teacher about why he’s
fucking up his tests.

As far as adults go, teachers are probably the worst kind. Yes, worse than your parents, worse
than your mean aunt, or the dentist.

If you get a crappy one, they just don’t give a shit, and you’re just a nametag on your
uniform.

If you get a good one, though…

They care so much. Wayyyyy too much. Like they’re intent on teaching you a life lesson on
top of geography or something, patting you on the shoulder with a speech or two about
remembering their own misguided youth.

To be frank, Jeongguk would just like to be left alone, at this point.

He doesn’t need a sad thirty-something who probably smokes too much to give him advice
on his future.

Unfortunately for him, though, he still has to spend another two months on school benches,
so he’ll have to endure it.

He knocks on the door, ignoring the swarm of teachers at their desks to focus on Yoongi-
ssaem’s.

Jesus, the whole space is a mess. Piles of what Jeongguk safely assumes to be ungraded
work, forgotten coffee cups and a stuffy ashtray topple precariously on a filing cabinet, while
his teacher is sprawled over the desk, head in his arms.

Probably napping.

He takes a cautious step, ass barely touching the chair next to the teacher’s desk, knees kept
together neatly, hands clasped over them. “You wanted to see me, seonssaengnim?”

The older man suddenly sits up. “Ah, Jeongguk-ah, come in.”
Definitely napping.

“I got called up, earlier?” he repeats as the older man rubs his face with a tired hand.

Seriously, if he ever considers becoming a teacher, shoot him.

“Right. I’m not going to scold you, Jeongguk, so you can relax. I just wanted to talk to you
for a minute.”

His shoulders drop ever so slightly. “Yes, ssaem.”

“Did something happen at home?”

“No, ssaem.”

“So your grades are just dropping because exams are over?”

“Yes, ssaem.”

“Lots of hanging out, partying and all that?”

“Yes, ssaem.”

That should do the trick. Easy questions, easy answers.

“Jeon Jeongguk,” his teacher sighs. “Who do you think you are?”

He blinks. “I’m… sorry?”

“Do you think I’m stupid? Your grades were fine last month. Why don’t you tell me what’s
really happening?”

Ugh, shit. He gulps, feeling the weight of the teacher’s gaze on his shoulders.

“I, uh, I got girlfriend troubles, but I’m fine now.”

“Oh, just that?”

He pouts. Yeah, just that. Oh, and he’s also being ignored by his sunbae, he hasn’t had a good
night of sleep in weeks, and they have a showcase in less than a month, but sure.

“Don’t worry too much, Jeongguk-ah. These things happen.”

There it is, the dreaded life lesson. Maybe he can manage to make it shorter if he agrees to
everything Yoongi-ssaem says.

“Thank you, ssaem. I’ll try to focus more in class.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Yes. Sorry, ssaem.”

The teacher pauses, giving him a long stare.

“Are you just telling me what I want to hear so you can leave as quick as you can?”

“I—” he looks at his teacher. Fuck. “Yeah.”

Min Yoongi sighs for what must be a good minute, rubbing his eyes before setting his glasses
on the desk. “What am I to do with you… Alright. I’m not going to force you to stay there.
Technically I’m only supposed to tell you to watch your grades, so consider that done.
There’s nothing I can do if you’re not receptive.”

Jeongguk stands up as quick as he can.

“Is there somewhere you need to be?”

He adjusts the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “I have dance practice on Thursdays. B-
boying.”

And you know, maybe this time, Jimin will be there.

“Oh? How’s that going?”

“We’re training hard. I have a— a solo with one of my hyungs, it’s tricky. It’s taking me
longer than usual to get it,” he replies distractedly.

“Do you get along with them?”

“Yeah. They’re nice. I, uh. I think I may have upset one of them, though.”

Yoongi hums. “Ah. Did you two get into a fight?”

It would be so much better if that were the case.

He blushes. “Not exactly. I thought we were getting along well, but I’m not sure anymore.”

“I see. So it’s not just girlfriend problems, then.”

Jeongguk scoffs. “Girl problems are easy.”

His teacher smiles. “I think you’re the first person I hear say that. Have you tried
apologizing?”

“I apologized to my girlfriend, already. My hyung…” he frowns. “How am I supposed to

make amends with him if he refuses to see me?” he asks, throwing his hands in the air.

“Ah.”

There’s the ghost of a smile, on the corner of the teacher’s lips, and he sits up. “Just give him
time, Jeongguk-ah. You’re a good boy, I don’t think anything you’ve done could have been
that bad.”
Okay, but Yoongi-ssaem doesn’t know the whole story, though, and—

Wait a minute.

Did he just get tricked into talking about his problems?

“Seems like your life is a little more complicated than you first let on.”

“It’s fine,” Jeongguk says, trying to divert the conversation. “like you said, it’ll sort itself out.
I just—”

I wanna see him so bad.

And it’s not what you think, okay?

It’s just that—once he sees Jimin, he can assuage the damage. Once he sees Jimin, they can
talk, move forward, whatever’s best.

But as long as he remains in this weird limbo, Jeongguk won’t know peace.

He chews on his cheek. “The worst thing is that I have all these, these questions in my head,
all the time, and he used to be the one I went to for that, but now I can’t even do that,” he
groans. “I feel like I ruined everything.”

“About those questions—”

He takes a step back, his ears burning. Absolutely not. “They’re dumb teen questions, ssaem.
Things you don’t wanna ask parents, you know.”

Things like—

Why can’t he stop thinking about that damn kiss?

Every time he so much as closes his eyes, he’s right back there, on Jimin’s shitty carpet,
breath shaking and warm fingers scraping the back of his neck. The thought inevitably leads
to Jimin’s teeth biting into his lip, and the trail of fire he set ablaze with that small gesture
comes back full force until Jeongguk forces himself to think about literally anything else, a
pillow pressed on his lap to hide his shameful, bizarro physical reaction.

(He’s had a few dreams too. But those don’t count.)

“Okay, well, I doubt they are,” Yoongi-ssaem says. “But we don’t have to go into detail. I’m
sure your other friends could help you out.”

He thinks about Yugyeom, who laughed just a few hours ago when flicking Jongin’s ass.

“Yeah, no. I’m good,” he winces. “It’s easier asking people you don’t have to see every day,
you know. Plus, my hyung’s older. He knows more.”

“I see. How old is your dance hyung?”

“Twenty-one, I think.”

The older man laughs. “Right, yeah. I forgot that seems like a whole other world when you’re
that age.”

Maybe because it is , Jeongguk grumpily thinks.

Jimin can drink. He can smoke, he can go to clubs, and he can kiss people and not give them
the time of the day afterward, apparently.

“You know, it’s normal to be curious, have questions you want answers to. If you don’t feel
comfortable asking anyone around you, you could always look online.”

He frowns. “Online? Like, asking a stranger?”

“Sure.”

He frowns. “Aren’t you supposed to tell me not to talk to people I don’t know?”

“That’s what you teach children . You’re about to enter society, Jeongguk-ah. I’m pretty sure
we should be able to trust you to make good decisions.”

He scoffs. Yeah, his teacher wasn’t there when Jeongguk had the genius idea to kiss another
guy.

But… There is a computer in Jeongguk’s family’s living room. Technically, his father bought
it for work, and —Jeongguk strongly suspects— to shut up the Kims across the street.

The whole thing had been kind of a big deal back then, getting it set up, big cables plugged
into the wall and screechy tones coming out of the dial-up box. His dad had proudly called it
a window to the outside world, something in which Jeongguk hadn’t really been interested in
at the time.

He’d only ever used it to game, maybe for school once or twice, and the idea of having to
type in what he was truly, deeply curious and mortified about…

No.

No way.

…Maybe?

He straightens up. “Thank you, ssaem, that was really good advice.”

Yoongi smiles. “That’s what I’m here for. Anything else I could help you with?”

“Nope,” he answers quickly.

Fool him once, fine.

Not twice, though.

“Alright. Off you go, then. Wouldn’t want you to miss practice.”

Oh, he won’t have to be told twice.

He scurries out of the lounge, ignoring his reflection in the window panes as he practically
runs down the hall.

Even if Jimin doesn’t show, he shouldn’t be late.

When he sees the red bicycle parked right by the gym, the one that’s a little beat-up with a
bunch of stickers, Jeongguk’s heart takes a weird little leap.

It means nothing, by all accounts.

Except—

Except that Jimin’s back.

He’s back and Jeongguk isn’t ready, but he’s walking in anyway.

“Hey, sorry I’m late, I had to talk with a teacher,” he says, hoping his voice isn’t wavering as
much as it feels. “Oh, hi, hyung.”

Yeah, that’s cool, right?

Chill, relaxed?

Jimin is stretching, his back turned to face Namjoon. “See? Told you he’d never miss
practice.”

“Unlike someone I know,” Hoseok chirps from his chair. The cast is gone now, replaced by
several rows of bandages that look scratchy as all hell. “Seriously, you couldn’t have texted
both of us?”

“Who do you think I am, Chung Mong-koo? This shit doesn’t come free.”

Ah, this is perfect. It’s so normal, like a regular, old practice day.

Jimin is fine.

They’re gonna be fine.

“Are you feeling better, hyung?”

“Yah, Jimin-ah, you better not have forgotten the choreo, I swear—”

“I’m good, I practiced at home.”

“Hyung,” he tries again, “How’s your cold?”

Jimin walks towards the boombox to press play. “Alright, let’s fall back into place,” the
dancer says, his eyes carefully trained on his own reflection. “No time to lose.”

Oh.

So Jimin is back, but he’s ignoring him.

Okay. Alright, in the grand scheme of things, it could be worse.

Could be better, though.

They don’t really need to look at each other, only follow the same count.

And yet. Each step Jeongguk makes, each glance he furtively throws Jimin’s way, only to see
the other dancer pointedly looking straight ahead brings a swirl of really ugly feelings to his
chest.

Is he that insignificant?

Was it that wrong?

Two weeks, he’s waited. Typing and erasing text messages, thinking about what he’d say
once they’d come face to face, and it’s like he’s not even worth watching. Jimin dances like
he’s alone, twirling in place, eyes unwilling to budge from his own reflection.

He skips a step.

Shit.

Fumbles a transition he usually nails, and Hoseok’s tongue clicks on the roof of his mouth.
“Sloppy, Jeongguk-ah.”

He straightens up, wiping sweat from his forehead.

It was hard

Looking at you

Beads of sweat start running down his face, courtesy of the broken AC in the gym, and he
angrily shrugs his jacket off, tossing it to the side.

Suffering and waiting

My heart even hurt

He knows he isn’t exactly skinny. The growth spurt he went through last year kind of took
care of that, adding a good chunk of meat to his bones, and as a result, he often finds himself
taking more space than he’d like to.

It doesn’t matter, though. He could be ten feet tall, Jimin wouldn’t give him the time of day.

Fuck this.

This sucks major ass.

He dances, harder than he has in a while, begging, no, demanding to be seen.

If he could only look .

Come on, just one look.

He’s so focused on a reflection that’s not his own that he barely registers Hoseok’s warning,
and when he feels his weight shift on the wrong ankle, pushing it to twist in a weird way, it’s
already too late.

“Shit!”

He falls, wincing as he hits the floor.

Yeah, that one hurt. Stupid, stupid Jeongguk.

“Jeongguk-ah? Did you hear it pop?” Namjoon immediately runs to him.

“I’m fine,” he flushes, “I think I just rolled it—”

“Stay down, stay down,” Hoseok says, and he reluctantly obliges.

Yeah, this isn’t a regular, old practice day.

“What were you thinking ?” Jimin asks, and he blinks owlishly.

“I— I was focused on—”

“You weren’t focused on shit,” Jimin continues angrily, pushing Namjoon with an annoyed
hand. “Give me that, I’ve seen more rolled ankles in a day than you probably do in a year.”

“Jimin,” Namjoon warns, but the dancer is already kneeling by Jeongguk, carefully unlacing
his shoe.

This is wrong. This is all wrong. That’s not how he wanted his attention, no, not at all.

“Hyung, I’m fine, it doesn’t even hurt.”

“That’s because of the adrenaline. You might feel it in an hour or so. Don’t move.”
“Hyung,” he says again, because Jimin is still not meeting his eye, just dead set on his stupid
ankle, which he wouldn’t even have rolled in the first place if it weren’t for him.

“I’m gonna grab the kit,” Namjoon says, and Hoseok stands up. “I have an extra pair of
crutches in the equipment room.”

Which leaves only Jimin to tend to his wound, or—

Whatever the fuck you’d call looking at a foot like it murdered your family.

“Hyung, can we talk?”

“We’re talking right now,” Jimin says, slowly rotating his foot with his hands. “Does it feel
sore?”

“Just tight. But, hyung,”

“Can you stop it with the hyung? It’s weirding me out. It’s like you’re trying to butter me
up.”

“You were the one who asked me to do that,” Jeongguk points out, a tightness in his throat.

“And now I’m asking you to stop.”

Yeah, okay.

So that whole thing about pretending things never happened was just total bullshit.

He lets out a deep breath, trying to dislodge the tightness in his throat.

“Are you going to be mad at me forever?”

Jimin blinks, his eyes finally— finally! Meeting his. “I’m not mad at you.”

“You just yelled at me.”

“Because you could have really hurt yourself.”

“I’m sorry.”

That’s the only thing he can think to say.

He’s sorry for forcing Jimin to kiss him, for making things awkward between them, for
fucking up so much during practice that he’s now sitting on the floor, looking like a moron,
and he feels like crying.

This is all so dumb.

“It’s fine,” Jimin sighs, “You just took a bad fall. It happens to everyone.”

“No, not about my ankle,” he says, looking away. “About the other thing.”
The dancer stiffens almost imperceptively. “There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

Right.

“Is that why you won’t look at me?”

“What are you talking about? I’m looking at you right now.”

“You’ve been ignoring me for the entire practice!”

Jimin opens his mouth, then, his eyes traveling up and staying there, for now. “Oh.”

Shit, the tears are coming, and now his ankle is starting to throb.

Jimin must see something, then, something Jeongguk can’t, because his face contorts with
guilt. “I’m sorry. I just— it was weird. I woke up, and you were gone.”

“I had to go,” he explains. “I had ten missed calls from my mom. More from Nayeon.”

Jimin presses a light finger to his ankle, right where it’s beginning to swell. “Are things…
okay?”

He lets out a pained breath. “I got grounded for a week. And I have to take Nayeon on more
expensive dates, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Jimin’s shoulders sag in relief. “You’re still together.”

He frowns. “Obviously.”

“I found the kit!” Namjoon yells, and Jimin retreats, just a little. “Hoseok’s looking for ice.”

“I don’t think it’s fully sprained,” Jimin says as he gets up. “It’s going to hurt for a couple
days, though. Maybe take it easy for a week?”

“We’re definitely cursed,” Namjoon sighs.

“We’ll be fine,” Jimin says, grabbing ointment from the box Namjoon is handing him. “Put
some of this on after showering, tonight. Did you take your bike here?”

He shakes his head. “I took the bus.”

“Might wanna call a taxi.”

Their manager hums, then. “I’ll make the call. Did you make up?”

Jimin glares at him. “We weren’t fighting.”

Namjoon raises his hands. “Okay, not my business. You two good, then, huh?”

Jeongguk bites his lip, trying to find the right words, before the other dancer beats him to it.
“Yeah, we’re fine. Give us a week and we’ll be right back on schedule.”

The weird thing is, Jimin is right.

By the time next practice rolls up, his ankle is completely fine, and the other dancer is back to
joking around, like nothing ever happened.

There’s a part of Jeongguk that feels immense, immediate relief.

But, and oddly enough, there’s also a part that just doesn’t like that at all.

Because here’s the thing.

Something happened. Something they’re not supposed to talk about, something he’s not even
supposed to be thinking of, because he promised . Because the less he thinks about it, the
easier things will get with Jimin except— it’s all he can think of.

Jimin’s warm mouth, tangy with artificial orange flavoring.

The tangle of their legs together, the heavy breathing and Jeongguk’s entire body feeling hot
to touch. The thousand questions that came afterward.

Like: what does that mean?

No, seriously. What does it all mean?

He got through his options, as dire as they were: ask Yugyeom (giant no), ask one of the other
dance hyungs (even worse), or ask his brother (no, never, would rather die).

So, one evening after school, he sits right in front of the family computer, fingers hovering
over the keyboard.

It’s the only logical solution.

He starts by browsing relationships forums, typing his question over and over, growing
increasingly frustrated by the lack of results. He can’t be the only guy in South Korea
wondering what it means if you enjoyed a kiss with your male sunbae, right?

It’s only after a less than fruitful hour spent scrolling through the entire webpage that he eyes
the chat window sitting above the topics. People seem to be conversing in real time, giving
each other tips.
Huh.

Well.

Here goes nothing—

Confusedguy86: Hi everyone! I’m looking for advice >.< I’m a guy, I have a girlfriend, and
we haven’t really done anything more than go on dates. Recently, she expressed wanting to go
a bit further physically, and I was really nervous as I’ve never kissed or done anything more
with anyone before. A hyung of mine offered to show me the ropes and long story short, we
ended up kissing each other. Now I can’t stop thinking about it, and I don’t know what it
means. Please help!!!

God, it’s even worse once he reads over his message. Maybe it’s better if no one answers it.

The computer dings.

Taetaebearluvr69: Sounds gay as hell, dude. There, saved you a trip to the doctor

Hitormiss: Be nice, Bear

Hitormiss: Confused guy, have you tried talking about it with your hyung?

Confusedguy86: He’s acting like it didn’t happen. And we are not supposed to discuss it, that
was part of the arrangement

Hitormiss: Could you tell us what happened, exactly? Seems like a pretty big jump between
wanting to help and actually kissing you

Confusedguy86: I don’t know, we were just joking about it and then it just happened. That
part isn’t really relevant

Taetaebearluvr69: I disagree. That part is actually pretty fucking relevant

Hitormiss: Bear, don’t make me report you to the mods for language!

< Taetaebearluvr69 has sent you a private instant message >

< Click to accept >

He licks his lips. Hovers the cursor over the window.

Click.
Taetaebearluvr69: Hey , sorry if I sounded like a dick in the chat but

Taetaebearluvr69: I’m gonna try to save you some trouble: if you kissed a guy, and you’re a
guy, and you enjoyed it, that means you’re into guys

He blinks.

What?

Confusedguy86: How can you know for sure, though? You don’t know me

Taetaebearluvr69: Do you like maths?

Confusedguy86: Not really

Taetaebearluvr69: Well I do. I like science, too

Taetaebearluvr69: and this is a really simple equation

Confusedguy86: I’ve only ever kissed one person, maybe I’d like kissing my girlfriend too

Taetaebearluvr69: the fact that you have a girlfriend and yet kissed your hyung before you
kissed her further proves my point

Confusedguy86: hey! you weren’t there!

Taetaebearluvr69: calm down

Taetaebearluvr69: Hear me out

Taetaebearluvr69: Nobody’s kind enough to offer to kiss someone just to “help out”, believe
me

Taetaebearluvr69: Does the guy have a girlfriend too?

Confusedguy86: Not that I know of

Confusedguy86: He hooks up with a lot of girls, though. He’s a dancer

Taetaebearluvr69: He sounds hot. Is he hot?

Jeongguk rolls his eyes.

Confusedguy86: He’s a guy

Taetaebearluvr69: Yeah? And?

Jeongguk groans, pushing the keyboard away. Man, that dude is annoying. Who cares if
Jimin is hot? How would he know? It’s not like he’s spent time checking him out or anything.
As if cursed, Jeongguk’s mind conjures up carefully curated memories of their past practices,
Jimin’s hips rolling, that stupid lip biting thing.

Ugh.

Confusedguy86: Yeah. He’s hot.

Taetaebearluvr69: Dude

Taetaebearluvr69: You’re gay

Taetaebearluvr69: That’s all there is to it. Break up with your girlfriend before she finds out,
and see if you can get another kiss or two from that guy. Peace out

< Taetaebearluvr69 has exited the chat >

The message stays in his mind long after he’s closed the window.

He thinks of it at night, in the morning, in school.

You’re gay.

You’re gay, you’re gay, you’re gay.

It bounces off the walls of his head, ricochets straight into his face when he least expects it.

He can’t be, he argues.

First, he has a girlfriend.

You don’t date girls if you’re gay. That’s simply not how it works.

Second…

Well, there’s no second.

He’s going to die .

Today’s practice has had, for some reason, the intensity of a Spartan training, and Jeongguk
ends up drenched in sweat, chest heaving as he lies on the cold floor of the room.

Jimin’s forehead is glistening, his snapback the only thing keeping his hair from dripping in
his face, but unlike him, the other dancer seems… agitated. Frustrated, for some reason. It
can’t be about him, though, Jeongguk’s last three runs were spotless, Hoseok even said so.

“Hey,” Jimin says, out of breath, “I think I’m gonna stay behind tonight, can I get the extra
key?”

Namjoon sets the water bottles he was lining up on a chair, frowning at Jimin’s request. “You
wanna stay past closing time?”

“I wanna go over some things.”

Jeongguk frowns. He hasn’t made a single mistake in the past two hours, so what he is on
about?

“Yah, Jimin-ah. Don’t overdo it, you guys were good today,” Hoseok protests. “And in two
weeks I’ll be good to start practicing again. Don’t go overboard, okay? Now’s not the time.”

“It’s not for the showcase,” Jimin replies, still catching his breath. “It’s for school .”

Jeongguk perks up at that.

For all his bragging, Jimin rarely mentions his coursework.

“Can’t they let you rehearse there, then?”

Jimin’s lips stretch into a thin line. “You have to pay to reserve a room, and I’m not exactly
liquid right now.”

“That sucks, I’m sorry,” Namjoon replies kindly. “But you can’t stay here alone. If anyone
catches you…”

“I’m not going to get caught,” Jimin rolls his eyes. “I literally just need an hour or two to
rehearse. Come on, hyung. Please? I need this.”

In a year spent dancing with them, Jeongguk has only ever heard Jimin beg once.

Granted, the stakes were lower, Jimin hounding Hoseok for his sister’s number.

This time, the dancer’s pleas sound almost desperate, and he stirs uncomfortably.

He thinks back to Jimin’s place, with the empty fridge and trophies on the walls, and wonders
how much of his home life he’s shared with the hyungs.

Knowing how proud he is, probably not much.

“I’m not going to budge,” Namjoon says. “Hobi’s right, you could hurt yourself, and no one
would know. It’s a liability.”

Jimin’s face falls, then, frustration written all over those furrowed eyebrows, and that’s when
Jeongguk ears himself say:

“I can stay back. Make sure we don’t get in trouble or something.”

Okay, what the fuck was that?

Two heads turn to him, but he only stares back at Namjoon. “Jeongguk-ah, that’s very nice of
you to offer, but—”

“Let him do it,” Hoseok sighs, “We’ll be here all night if you keep saying no. Did you forget
how bullheaded he gets?”

“Hey—I’m right here,” Jimin replies scornfully. “And I don’t need a baby-sitter.”

Typical Jimin. Give him a hand and he bites it down to the knuckle.

He rolls his eyes. “I’ll sit in a corner, you won’t even know I’m here.”

“That’s not the point, Jeongguk-ah. It’s a—”

“Matter of pride,” all three of them reply with varying degrees of tiredness. “Yeah, we’ve
heard that one before,” Namjoon adds.

Jimin huffs, and after what feels like an eternity, their club manager sighs. “Fine. You can
stay, as long as Jeongguk’s there. But I swear to God, if you bust a knee or something…”

“Like I’d let that’d happen,” Jimin scoffs.

“Yeah, well, it better not,” Namjoon warns, holding out the key.

“Thanks, hyung.”

Namjoon shakes his head. “Don’t thank me, thank Jeongguk.”

His cheeks start burning again. “It’s nothing.”

He’s also pretty sure Jimin doesn’t want him there, so.

“God, I can’t wait to dance again,” Hoseok sighs as he wobbles towards the exit. “What I
would give to trade places with you!”

To anyone else, anyone not paying as close attention as Jeongguk is in that instant, Jimin’s
smile wouldn’t be out of the ordinary.

But this is a face he’s now weirdly attuned to, a face he’s seen all angles off and has
somehow burned into his brain, and it’s off .
He frowns.

“It’s a matter of weeks, now, hyung,” Jimin says, reassuring. “You’ll be on your feet in no
time.”

“Yeah, the sooner, the better,” Hoseok sighs. “Don’t tell Namjoon, but my boss has kind of
been on my case about deliveries again.”

The dancer snorts.“That’s just what we need, another broken leg.”

“Ah, I’ll be more careful, this time. Taeyeon would kill me if I hurt myself again.”

“Oh, that’s still going?”

“Just because you can’t keep a girl to save your life doesn’t mean the rest of us share your
affliction.”

Jimin grins. “Just because you are a serial monogamist doesn’t mean the rest of us share your
affliction either.”

“You’re so full of shit,” Hoseok smiles, and Jimin laughs with him.

So things really are back to normal.

For the most part.

Hoseok scoffs, looking at the two of them suspiciously. “Alright. Don’t set the gym on fire,
you two.”

Jeongguk watches as the other two members pack up and leave, turning toward Jimin. “I
meant it when I said I’d just sit in a corner, you know.”

Jimin shrugs. “I don’t mind you watching, it’s fine. It’s just gonna be boring for you is all.”

“Can’t be worse than my homework,” he jokes.

Jimin looks at him, studying him, almost.

Whatever he sees, he keeps to himself.

“Hey, thanks. I really appreciate you doing this, you know.”

He tries not to let it get to his head, he really does, because Jimin looks kind of vulnerable
right now, but this is the first time they’ve really been alone since. You know.

He clears his throat. “Everything okay, at school?”

Jimin’s shoulders are tense, tense tense. “Yeah. We’re just preparing our final show for the
year, so I figured I’d throw in some extra work.”

“Right.”
Be normal, Jeongguk. Just be fucking normal.

“Can you put this CD in?” Jimin asks, holding out a disk. “Track Four.”

“Sure.”

Something’s definitely off with him, but it’s kind of obvious the other boy isn’t willing to
expand on it, so.

The dancer takes his stand, cap now discarded on the floor and tank top tied tight around his
midriff.

He supposes ample clothing would disrupt his read on his own silhouette.

He presses play, and music starts filling the room, powerful drums and a mix of strings
echoing in a haunting melody.

Then, Jimin begins his metamorphosis.

There’s a lot of work going into dancing. A lot of awareness of your own body, your own
internal tempo. Jeongguk’s always been good at following the rhythm, matching whatever
song they practice to.

Looking at Jimin, it’s clear that he’s in a whole different ballpark.

There’s executing a choreography, and there’s feeling it.

Every step, every arc Jimin’s body follows means something.

It is kind of insane, to be able to do that. To lose yourself in dance so completely that you can
trust your body to express emotion like that.

It’s about seduction.

That’s what Jimin had said, the first time they practiced together.

About saying Look at me.

See me.

Jimin tilts his chin.

Look at me.

Only me.
The dancer combs a hand through his hair, eyes closed, deep breaths as he falls to the floor,
and Jeongguk watches, transfixed.

When they dance to whatever track Hoseok has picked for them, Jimin is usually so
aggressive, in your face that you sort of have to look at him.

He’s loud, that way.

Today, Jeongguk is watching because it simply would be impossible to tear his eyes away.

Jimin spins, and spins, and leaps, weightless yet controlled in the way he balances each of his
movements.

Gone is the pain, frustration, anger of the day.

Jeongguk probably doesn’t even exist in Jimin’s world, right now.

He throws himself into it, beautiful, terrible, and all sorts of things Jeongguk doesn’t quite
have words for.

When the music finally slows down and Jimin returns to his starting position, all that comes
out of Jeongguk’s mouth is a resounding “Holy shit.”

The dancer seems to come back to himself, blinking several times before laughing
embarrassedly. “Shut up, the whole middle part sucked ass,” he scratches the back of his
head.

“Really? I thought it looked good.”

Better than good, honestly.

Heavenly. Sacrosanct, even.

The frustrated sigh Jimin lets out could be heard from the other side of the room. “I don’t
need good , though, I need great . I can’t afford to slack off right now.”

Again with the wording.

He hesitates for half a second.

Maybe that’s not his place to ask.

“Did something happen? Are your parents..?”

Jimin ticks.“We’re fine. The school is just raising its tuition next year, so I have to make sure
I’m still the top student. I haven’t.. I’ve had a hard time focusing, lately,” he admits, looking
everywhere but at him.

A traitorous voice, nasty one, really, whispers that the situation with Jeongguk probably
didn’t help, and he chews on his cheek guiltily.
He never set out to derail Jimin’s life like that.

“You know,” he says, hoping to change his mood, “if that’s what you’re like when you aren’t
at your best, I’m kind of scared to see you perform at your full potential. The other students
must be terrified of you.”

Jimin chuckles joylessly. “Yeah, you got that right.”

“What?”

The dancer inhales sharply. “Let’s just say I’m not their favorite classmate.”

Jeongguk’s brows furrow. “Are they mean to you?”

“I’m not being bullied or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about. We just don’t really
see eye to eye, on account of me being our year’s charity case.”

He pales.“They call you that?”

The dancer looks down. “Amongst other things.”

A wave of fury washes over him.

“That’s such bullshit ! They’re just mad because you’re kicking all their asses. Bunch of
preppy assholes, I bet,” he grumbles.

Jimin raises an amused eyebrow. “Don’t you live in Yongsan?”

Shit. He didn’t think Jimin knew that. Then again, it probably shows in ways Jeongguk
doesn’t even suspect, and he wonders, for an uncomfortable second, if Jimin judges him
because of it.

To Jeongguk, dancing is an escape, a way to make good use of all that energy constantly
buzzing out of him. A fun hobby.

As he stares at Jimin and the fire burning in his eyes, he knows that dancing is something
completely different to him. More akin to a lifeline,

He looks away in shame.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

Jimin shrugs. “Hey, don’t sweat it. You can’t help where you were born. And you know,
adversity builds character.”

That’s just something they say in movies, Jeongguk wants to say.

In real life, people like Jimin probably kill themselves swimming upstream, trying to get their
moment in the sun.

“You know, Hoseokie-hyung isn’t wrong. You shouldn’t overdo it.”

Jimin’s shoulders fall, ever so slightly. “Yeah, I know,” he sighs, lying down on the floor.
“Fuck, I’m so tired .”

And it’s a tiny window, a chip in Jimin’s armor that Jeongguk gets to witness, but it feels all
wrong, like prying. So, instead of watching, he looks away.

“You really were amazing, today, hyung.”

Jimin’s answer is quiet, muffled behind the hands he hides his face in. “Thanks.”

If he could only catch a break, Jeongguk muses as he stares at the calluses on Jimin’s fingers.
He’d be able to get a handle on things, maybe even rest a little.

But that’s not really how life works, though. In his experience, it just keeps coming at you,
usually with more shit.

He nudges the dancer with his foot. “Hey, what if we went back to that place?”

“What place?”

“The chicken joint. You haven’t eaten yet, right?” Jeongguk asks.

“Oh,” Jimin looks sideways, then at him—quickly, almost too swift for Jeongguk to catch it.

The hesitation. The slight furrow of a brow that definitely second guesses Jeongguk’s
intentions.

“That’s really nice but… I think I’m just gonna head straight to the club. Gotta blow some
steam off, you know. Raincheck?”

A weight falls in his chest.

On the surface, everything is the same.

Jimin laughs at his jokes, and they have good times together, within the confines of the
practice room. The second they step outside of those lines, however, there’s a distance.

Like Jimin is standing six feet away, unattainable. A planet following its own orbit, with no
satellites attached.

“Oh,” he says, the sound echoing in his chest. “Yeah. Sure. You should, uh— yeah. Find
someone nice to blow steam off with, and all that.”

Jimin squints, an amused tilt of the head. “You pimping me out, Jeon?”

“You’re the one who said that’s what you go to clubs for,” Jeongguk retorts.

The memory’s all too fresh in his mind.

“Tss—You’ll really believe anything,” Jimin teases, dusting off his shorts as he gets up. “But
with the luck I’ve had lately, I’m gonna go home empty-handed.”
“Bummer,” he answers sarcastically.

Wait, no, he meant to be sincere.

Jimin sets a hand on his shoulder. “Hey. Thanks again for staying late.”

He shrugs, vying for laid-back. “Yeah, well, you owe me one.”

“I knew it was too good to be true,” Jimin sighs, grabbing the boombox. “Alright, I’ll let you
name your price later. No kissing, though, right?“ he winks.

He should laugh.

Jimin definitely wants him to laugh.

Instead, he stares at his reflection in the mirror.

No more, he wants to say.

No more teasing, not about that.

The dancer raises a quizzical eyebrow. “What, too soon?”

Jeongguk just glares at him. “Way too soon,” he says, grabbing the keys to the gym. “I should
lock you in, that’d show you.”

Jimin raises his hands up in the air, unaware of the inner turmoil he caused. “Alright, geese, I
was just trying something! You’re no fun to tease.”

They pack up in relative silence, and when they do their final rounds, making sure they
haven’t left anything behind, Jimin turns to him.

“We’re good, right? You and I. Back to normal?”

He only wants to hear one answer, Jeongguk realizes.

“Oh, yeah, totally.”

He doesn’t have to look at his face in the mirror to know it’s off.

Confusedguy86: I think I caught some sort of bug

Taetaebearluvr69: Computer or food poisoning?

Confusedguy86: Yeah, like a cold or something

Confusedguy86: my stomach is just randomly getting upset

Taetaebearluvr69: out of nowhere?

Confusedguy86: yeah

Confusedguy86: I’ll be at practice, dancing and everything’s fine, and all of a sudden I’m
kinda nauseous?

Taetaebearluvr69: maybe it’s just nerves

Taetaebearluvr69: you cleared things up with your hot dancer guy, right?

Confusedguy86: don’t call him that

Confusedguy86: but yeah, I did

Confusedguy86: it’s not the same, though

Confusedguy86: like, we joke around but we’re not close like before

Taetaebearluvr69: do you want to be close like before?

Confusedguy86: idk, it was nice

Confusedguy86: made me feel like i was part of the crew

Confusedguy86: I wanted to hang out with him yesterday but he sort of brushed me off

Confusedguy86: it kinda sucked, I stayed late to help him, and when I asked him if he
wanted to get food he totally dodged

Taetaebearluvr69: you think he’s not over what happened?

Confusedguy86: idk. He said he was going clubbing. I get that fooling around with a girl is
more fun than sharing greasy food but like…

Taetaebearluvr69: you feel abandoned

Confusedguy86: I’m not a child

Confusedguy86: but yeah. Kind of

Confusedguy86: ugh my stomach is hurting again

Taetaebearluvr69: okay, don’t get mad

Taetaebearluvr69: but I don’t think that’s a stomach bug

Taetaebearluvr69: I think you might just be jealous

<Confusedguy86 has left the chat>

So he kissed Nayeon, today.

He wasn’t really planning on it, but it kind of just— happened. He usually says goodbye to
her right after school on Tuesdays, because she has all those piano lessons and all that, and
leaves her with a little wave and a smile.

But today, she hovered. Or leaned in, he’s not sure. And he just went for it.

And maybe that’s why it felt like this, kind of stiff and awkward, but Jeongguk’s basically
been replaying the thing in his head ever since.

You’d think it’s a good thing, considering how obsessive he’s being about it.

It’s not.

Because Nayeon’s kiss was nothing like Jimin’s, and he has a nasty feeling about it. That or
the two bags of Chocopie he scarfed down after lunch are exacting revenge.

Stupid ass stomachaches.

Maybe he should have used tongue or bit her lip. Maybe that’s the trick.

“Dude, where is your head at, today?” Hyeri asks, shoving a box of pencils in his hands. “Get
it together, I’m not cleaning everything by myself.”

“Sorry,” he replies mechanically, trying to shake it all off.

It’d be a whole lot easier if the only other person he’d ever engaged with in that aspect hadn’t
spent last practice boasting about the nail scratches he got on his shoulders.

“Man, I hate clean-up duty,” Hyeri moans from the back of the room. “Boys are pigs,” she
adds as she carefully sniffs one of the pillows left on a chair.

He claps the chalkboard erasers together, right above their classroom window.

“You say that like we didn’t just empty a whole bag of hair in that trash can. Are girls like
shepherd dogs? Do you shed during summer?”

“Shut up,” she scoffs, pushing the broom around— pretending to clean.
“You’re even worse than I am. I think the classroom is actually dirtier than when we started,”
he sighs in defeat.

“Whatever. We graduate in two months, it’s not like they’re going to punish us for a little
dust.”

“The school won’t, but Yugyeom will. He’s next on the schedule with Eunwoo.”

“All the more reason to do jackshit,” Hyeri grins, gleefully dropping the broom to sit back on
her chair. “Feels like this is as good as it’s gonna get.”

“You’re just finding excuses,” Jeongguk rolls his eyes, closing the window. “Also, don’t
curse. It’s so vulgar.”

“I hear you curse with the other guys all the time.”

“Yeah, but you’re a girl.”

“Yah, what does that have to do with anything!” she scowls, kicking her desk with her foot.
“You’re so old-fashioned. I really don’t get why Nayeon likes you.”

“Nayeon doesn’t like cursing either.”

“Wrong. She curses all the time, just not in front of you.”

He frowns. “No, she doesn’t.”

“Sure, don’t believe me. I’m only her best friend, her confidante—”

“She’s my girlfriend.”

She scoffs. “Only that. Just because you kissed her once—”

He stills. “Wait, you know about that?”

Her smile turns smug. “Told you. Confidante beats boyfriend any time of the day. She texted
the second it happened.”

“Did she— how much did she tell you?” he asks, beads of sweat dripping down his neck.

“Look who’s all eager, now.”

“Nevermind,” he groans. “I don’t care.”

“Right, you don’t,” she taunts. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I’m not going to betray her trust.
I’ll just say, though— maybe practice a little? Sounded like you might have missed the mark
with that one.”

Oh, God.

He’s bad at kissing.

Nayeon told Hyeri he sucks.

Oh, this is awful.

Poor Nayeon. Poor him?!

Shit.

Hyeri hands him the now empty trashcan. “Don’t be such a sourpuss. It only gets better from
there,” she shrugs, and he hunches over himself.

So much for his kissing lesson.

“I think I’m bad at kissing,” Jeongguk blurts out right as Jimin presses pause on the
boombox.

“What? Where is that coming from?”

Fair question, Jimin.

He’d say that the thought hasn’t exactly left his mind since Tuesday, and even watching the
other dancer execute his routine perfectly hasn’t really managed to shake things up for
Jeongguk.

He’s once again agreed to stay late, for whatever unimaginable reason, and he’s starting to
regret it.

He looks at the dancer. “I kissed Nayeon.”

And it’s interesting, the face journey Jimin goes on just now.
He stares. Blinks. Opens his mouth, closes it. Opens it again. “Okay, did you use too much
spit? Because that totally happens, man, it’s fine. You can course-correct.”

“No,” Jeongguk shakes his head, “it’s not that. It was just… bad. Cold, I guess?”

Jimin frowns. “What do you mean?”

“You know, in comparison with—”

The other dancer squints.

“Right, yeah. No. Anyway,” Jeongguk continues, scratching the bridge of his nose nervously,
“I don’t think she was super into it.”

Jimin grimaces. “That bad?”

“Yeah. That bad.” He stares at him. There’s a faint mark, right on the junction of his neck and
shoulder. “Hyung. Be honest with me, was I bad?”

Jimin’s cheeks take the slightest pink tint as he sighs: “I thought we said we weren’t going to
go there again.”

“You’re my only frame of reference, so…”

The other dancer stares at him, expression indecipherable under the fluorescent lighting of
the gym. “Fine. Yeah, you’re an awful kisser. Is that what you wanna hear?”

He looks down, trying to hide his disappointment.

So he is bad at it.

“Oh come on. Don’t mope .”

“You didn’t have to say it like that,” he mutters.

He plops down next to him, pulling out a tube of chapstick out of his pocket.“You know I’m
joking, right? You were fine, for a first-timer.”

The dancer opens the stick, a powerful scent suddenly attacking Jeongguk’s senses, and he
winces. “What is that, vanilla?”

“Raspberry, actually,” Jimin puckers up, lips jutting out as he presses the stick against them.
“Want some?”

“No thanks. I can smell it from here.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing.”

Actually, I do, he thinks guiltily. I really, really do.

God, what is happening to him?

“Hey, stop thinking about it,” Jimin says, and Jeongguk blinks.

“I’m not thinking about anything.”

Jimin’s gaze turns knowing. “I can hear your brain sizzling. Come on, It’s really not that big
of a deal.”

His gaze drops to Jimin’s lips, shiny with chapstick, almost glazed, in a way.

Nope.

“I just don’t understand what I did so differently,” he sighs, “Was I really that bad? She was
all… stiff, which I don’t get, because she’s the one who’s been pushing for us to go there.”

Jimin hums. “Yeah, I don’t know, I’ve definitely had worse.”

He straightens up.“Dudes?”

“No, you dillweed! Girls! Obviously, girls,” Jimin replies, a blush coloring his face.

Oh.

Yeah, makes sense.

“You’re actually the first guy I’ve ever— you know.”

“Oh.”

He pauses, looking straight ahead. It’s better not to stare, right now.

“Did it feel… different, for you?”

Jimin looks sideways. “Define different.”

“Like, was it weird? It must have been weird, right?”

“It’s only weird because you’re a giant weirdo. Other than that…” he seems hesitant to finish
his sentence. “Wasn’t that different from my usual.”

Oh.

Hm.

“What?” Jimin says defensively.

“Nothing! I wish it felt like that for me, that’s all.”

“Maybe the mood wasn’t right. Like, why did you kiss her in the first place?”

“I don’t know. She was there…”

Jimin scoffs. “You kissed her because she was there ? Did she even give you the signal?”

He frowns. “What signal?”

“You know— like, the look, and shit.”

Jeongguk opens his mouth. “There’s a Look, now ?!”

“Don’t freak out! Girls look at you a certain way when they want you to kiss them. It’s better
if you create the right circumstances for it to happen, though.”

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this shit, last time?” he despairs, putting his head in his
hands.

“I thought that was common sense!”

He turns to Jimin. “Okay but you should know by now that I have no game! Like, at all! I
thought that was pretty obvious!”

“Jesus Christ,” Jimin groans. “Okay, listen. You know how, when we dance, we create a
story?”

“Sure?”

“We’re building anticipation with our bodies, movements, shit like that,” he says, getting up
to his feet. “It’s the same thing. Look.”

He bends down, holding out a hand for Jeongguk to take. “You start easy. Take a step closer,”
he demonstrates, walking towards him. “Hand on her wrist, maybe the other on her hip. Twist
it out a little.”

Little pricks, like needles, run from the hands Jimin guides to his own waist all the way down
to his fingertips. “Like that?”

Jimin’s hip grazes against his. “Closer. Make sure you look into her eyes. Then, you slide
your hand to the back of her neck, like this. Get it?” he asks, and Jeongguk starts feeling
dizzy. There’s something, in the way Jimin holds him. Something grounding them into place,
with that damn hip pressing into his in a way that rings a dozen alarm bells in his head.

If he had to describe it, he’d say— this is more or less like that time Yugyeom managed to
snag a bottle of soju from his dad and they took sips of it behind school. The alcohol in itself
hadn’t done much, but the thrill of it, burning its way down, that had been something .

His lips part.

Jimin’s adam’s apple bobs down as he swallows. “Exactly. If she opens her mouth like that,
that’s how you know.”

Jeongguk feels himself nod more than he registers it, at this point. “Uh-huh. And then?”
His eyes are burning a hole on his skin. “Then you kiss her.”

Kiss me.

The sentence almost comes out, hangs off his lips like a poorly kept secret, because it’s
impossible that Jimin doesn’t know, and yet— the other boy doesn’t budge.

It’s like he’s waiting for something, or— calculating, maybe? Not pulling away, not moving
forward.

It’s only when Jimin’s hand, the one burning a print on the back of his neck, starts gliding
down the slope of Jeongguk’s shoulder that he gets it.

As long as they don’t move, this is nothing. As long as neither of them steps forward, they
can stay firmly on the safe side of things, the one where Jimin is a foot away, when it actually
feels like miles.

Screw this.

He moves forward, fingers awkwardly wrapping around Jimin’s wrist. It’s sloppy, definitely
less smooth than he’d like to be, and he’s pretty sure his fingers are shaking more than
stroking the dancer’s skin, but it’s something .

Jimin’s lips part, ever so slightly.

“Ugh, sorry, don’t mind me, I’m just looking for my bag, I picked the wrong one again!”
Namjoon yells from the other side of the gym.

Suddenly, there are six feet between him and Jimin, and that’s both way too much and
absolutely not enough.

Their manager stops dead in his tracks, looking at the huge clock on the wall. “Woah, you
guys are still practicing? It’s almost ten. Jimin-ah!”

Jimin shakes his head. “Sorry, kinda lost track of time. Hey, I think I saw your bag in the
locker room earlier.”

“Ugh. Every time,” Namjoon rolls his eyes. “Alright, see you. You should think about
packing up!”

“Thanks, dad!” Jimin replies sarcastically.

The other boy waves a hand at them, pushing the doors open with a big kick.

“So, uhm,” Jeongguk starts, fingers kneading the bottom of his tee. “I—”

“Hyung’s right, time to hit the hay,” Jimin says, grabbing his bag off the floor.

Shit.
That was weird.

They made it weird.

Again .

“Yeah, you’re right,” he clears his throat. “I’m gonna hit the showers.”

“I’ll clean up. You can go ahead.”

His fist hits the shower faucet with a little more force than necessary, because— Fuck. He’d
just gotten over the weirdness of last time, and for a second it had seemed like Jimin had, too,
only to toss all of that because of a few wandering hands and teenage hormones.

I don’t want to kiss him.

I don’t.

I don’t.

I don’t.

He scrubs it off his skin, rubbing it red until it reels, until the raindrops disappear, until
(hopefully) Jimin leaves the gym. He even waits an extra ten minutes to be sure, toying with
the strings of his hoodie and playing snake on his phone while sitting in the stall.

So, when he finally comes out of the bathroom and he bumps into Jimin’s chest and
accusatory stance, he jumps out of his skin a little.

“Woah, what the fuck?”

Jimin doesn’t wait for him to recover before asking. “Did you mean to do that, earlier?”

“Uh…”

Lie. Punch him in the face. Run the other way.

“Yeah?”

Jimin blinks, clearly surprised by his answer. Well, that makes two of them.

“Why?”

“I—”
“Was it because I was just there?”

Oh, how harsh those words sound when Jimin is the one to say them. Put that in the big box
of things to examine later.

“I don’t know.”

Jimin’s jaw clenches. “What kind of bullshit answer is that?”

“The truth? I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking!”

“Oh my god, you’re so fucking annoying! Just be honest!”

He frowns. “Why are you mad at me ? You’re the one who said it was all about creating a
moment. Well— moment’s gone, so can we just please forget about it and go home?”

Jimin squints. “You’re such a coward.”

He opens his mouth in shock. “ Me ?! You avoided me for two weeks!”

“I was trying to give you space , dipshit!”

Oh, hell no.

He doesn’t get to rewrite history.

“Liar! You’re just ashamed, because you-you kissed a dude, and you almost did it again, and
now you’re trying to make me feel like shit about it!”

“Hey! You asked ! And I’m not ashamed!”

He chews on the inside of his cheek. “Sure looked like that.”

“I’m not ashamed!” Jimin repeats, fists balled up to his side.

Ugh. Fuck this. He hates it when Jimin gets like this.

“Fine, whatever. Yeah, I wanted to kiss you. No, I don’t know what it means. But I’m not
gonna wait around to find out. See you tomorrow.”

He moves to push the other boy around, batting for one of those cool expressions actors get
sometimes, in the middle of an intense drama scene. In reality, he probably looks like a sad,
wet dog, but one can dream.

“Jeongguk-ah, wait.”

A hand on his shoulder.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Hyung is sorry.”
He sighs. “You’re only my hyung when it suits you.”

“I’m not ashamed.”

Another sigh.

“I’m freaked out. But I’m not ashamed.”

He makes the tragic mistake of looking at Jimin’s face, and the executive decision to keep
looking at it after witnessing what he knows to be mirrored in his own eyes.

Fear, guilt. And a burning fire, made of something fierce.

Forget solitary planets and all that— Jeongguk knows, right in that instant, that the pull Jimin
has on him is stronger than gravity.

“In the spirit of being honest,” he starts, scratching the side of his nose, “I’m still thinking of
kissing you right now.”

Jimin takes a sharp breath. “I see.”

Then—

“I think about kissing you, a lot.”

He doesn’t give Jeongguk time to let his lips part before pressing his mouth to his.

Fuck. Yes .

And it is like dancing, the way his hips roll against Jeongguk’s and his jaw angles just right,
hands fisted in Jimin’s shirt, back against the wall.

And yeah, this makes sense to him in a way things with Nayeon, or any girl, really, don’t and
he probably should have realized that way sooner, like—When he caught himself staring at
Namjoon’s thighs or the way Hoseok went from smiley, happy guy to that hyper-focused face
he makes when he performs, but apparently what does it for him is Park Jimin, licking his
bottom lip.

Turns out it’s a lot harder to stay calm when you’re kissing a hot guy than a pretty girl.

Turns out chances are that if you think the guy is hot, and the girl is simply pretty…

Yeah. Yup, he’s gay.

No mistaking this.

taetaebearluvr69 was right.

Nothing straight or friendly about this. That shit is pure adrenaline running down his spine,
making the entire right side of his brain fuzzy and the other half batshit insane with want.
“I’m gonna stop,” Jimin breathes, “I’m stopping.”

“Don’t. Don’t stop—”

He’s so, so gay. The realization comes less as a shock than fact, or at least that part does.

The part where the guy driving him up the wall is a cocky, loud boy from Ssangmun-dong?

What’s wrong with him? Namjoon-hyung is smarter, Hobi-hyung gentler with his words, but
no— he wants Jimin, wants his hands everywhere and that stupid tank top off, and his mouth
way dow—

“Fuck,” Jimin mumbles against his mouth, “‘bit me.”

He mumbles something back, some sort of sorry, which he really isn’t. He’s not sorry at all.
He’s alive and kicking and eager for more.

There’s no distance, nothing, not when he’s pressing against Jimin like this, and the other
dancer sighs. “You drive me crazy .”

Never has a word felt so good to hear.

Crazy. He drives Jimin crazy .

Crazy, Crazy, Crazy.

He takes a shaky breath, committing each syllable to memory, and Jimin blinks slowly.

God, he looks hot like this. Lips torn red and hair sticking up in places, cheeks warm and a
little sweaty.

“Seriously, we need to stop.”

He settles down. “Why—Do you not, like—”

Oh, no. Was he bad?

Does Jimin care?

“We shouldn’t do this here,” the other boy finally says, gesturing to the room. “Namjoon
might come back.”

Oh, right.

Yeah.

Public space, and all that.

Jimin squints. “Did you forget where we were?”

He shrugs. “Kinda, yeah.”

And then Jimin does something surprising— or entirely on brand, depending on how you
look at it. He laughs , tilting his head to the side. “I mean, I knew I was good, but I didn’t
think I was that good,” he says smuggly.

“Hey—that’s not what this is!”

“Yeah? You wanna talk about that third leg over there?” Jimin grins, motioning to his pants,
which Jeongguk covers hastily.

“Don’t look! God, what is wrong with you, ” he blushes, stepping back in shame.

Jimin pauses, looking at the flush that is no doubt spreading to his chest.

“A whole lot, it seems.”

Confusedguy86: Hey

Confusedguy86: I don’t know if you’re there, or if you’re going to see this but

Confusedguy86: You were right

It’s magnetic, the way they dance together.

Steps falling in line, eyes on each other, the room, everything disappearing until Jeongguk’s
entire field of vision is just him.

Jimin.

His lips, his neck, his hands.

His eyes.

All the lyrics make sense now, because he’s burning from head to toe under that gaze, and
he’s growing careless, he knows he is, with the way he licks his lips, bites on them but he
knows by now.

The more he riles Jimin up, the more chances he has that the second they’re alone, the other
boy jumps him. And he wants that. He wants that very much.

So, yes, Jeongguk has taken to taunting him.

“You know, you’re a quick learner,” Jimin tells him in between searing hot kisses that
evening. “Feel like that should piss me off a lot more than it actually does.”

So this is the fifth or sixth time they’re doing this.

And you know, once is a mistake. Twice is a slip-up. Ending every practice dizzy with need
because Jimin’s looking at him like he wants to eat him whole?

That’s a pattern.

And Jeongguk hates it as much as he craves it.

They don’t talk about why they do this, or what Jimin actually gets out of it.

No, all they do is kiss.

It’s never loving, or tender, or slow.

It’s always a race to a finish line neither of them seems quite eager to talk about, Jimin’s
fingers digging into his waist and Jeongguk’s raging hard-on pressed into his hip.

Jimin, as it turns out, was right about a few things: while there is no real science to it,
Jeongguk definitely feels like the fact that he’s no longer the only one breathing hot and
heavy when they do this must mean he’s doing something right.

The thing that scares him, though, is that it doesn’t feel like enough .

He constantly finds himself clawing at his shirt, fingers thumbing at the waistband of his
boxers, until the other boy inevitably slows things down with some bullshit excuse or
another.

Today’s going to be no different.

“Listen, if you want it off, just ask me to take it off. I don’t need you stretching my shirt,”
Jimin groans, breath hot on Jeongguk’s jaw.

He blinks. “For real?”

“Sure, fuck. Yeah,” Jimin shrugs it off like it’s nothing, but Jeongguk knows better. This is a
change. A small, infinitesimal change, but it means they might be leaning into something
here.

He doesn’t question it (what’s that saying with never looking at a gift horse and a mouth?)
and pretty soon the shirt is off, discarded on the bench next to them like the rest of
Jeongguk’s sanity.

Fuck.

He’s so gay.
“My eyes are up here,” Jimin smirks, licking alongside his jaw. Jeongguk’s fingers tighten in
his hair, his other hand almost cramping from holding on to Jimin’s belt buckle.

Would he freak out if he went any lower?

He would, wouldn’t he?

He chews on his lip.“Do you ever feel like— doing something more?”

Jimin bites the soft part of his earlobe. “More than?”

He moans. “Kissing.”

God, he’s going insane.

“Do you?”

“I’m open,” he says, maybe a little too quickly, because Jimin’s eyes widen the slightest bit.
“But we don’t have to. I’m just… putting it out there.”

“Clearly,” Jimin scoffs, pointing at his crotch.

Jeongguk glares at him. “Ha, ha.”

“So—” Jimin seems to consider it, or at least deeply think about something . “What are we
talking about here? Hand stuff, or…” he mimics a lewd, rude gesture.

“God, no! Just. Yeah, hands. What do you think?”

It’s not like he can’t feel the outline of Jimin’s arousal against his leg.

The dancer’s eyes are glazed, a flush going all the way down to his chest. Perfect, golden
skin Jeongguk is desperate to taste. When they’re close like this, it’s like they’re breathing
the same air, intoxicating, and he’s half-sure that’s the reason why Jimin’s fingers wrap
around Jeongguk’s to unbuckle his own belt.

“Just so you know,” Jimin breathes as the zipper goes down, “I still like girls.”

It doesn’t matter. This is the best day of his fucking life.

His hand slides below Jimin’s waistband, trembling, aching.

Is he going to moan?

Fuck, that’d be so hot .

Time stands still for a blissful, magnificent second, and then his phone goes off in his pocket.

Shit.
“That your girlfriend?” Jimin asks, and the heart he was carrying on his sleeve returns to his
chest, sinking deep, deep into his stomach.

He checks quickly. “Yeah. I, uh. I’ll call her back later,” he says, trying to ignore the guilt
strangling his throat.

This is something he tries not to think too much about. The… logistics behind this. As far as
he’s concerned, they don’t really exist outside of the four walls of their gym.

That’s how he’s been looking at it— how he’s had to look at it to keep himself from full-on
freaking out the second he steps out of the gym.

And yeah, of course, It’s selfish, and awful, and he keeps meaning to put an end to it, but
every time he so much as looks in Jimin’s direction, he’s a goner.

He can’t help it.

Just like he can’t help wanting to get back to possibly, finally touching him.

“Hey,” Jimin says softly, “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

The promise of something more between them shatters into tiny little pieces with that single
sentence.

He falls back on the bench, his gaze traveling to Jimin’s gym bag, discarded to the side of the
room.

God-fucking-dammit.

“Would your answer be different, if I were single?”

The hesitation in Jimin’s eyes is answer enough. “I just don’t want us to do anything you
might regret, later.”

But that’s the thing, though. That’s exactly the thing.

Nothing Jeongguk does with Jimin ever fills him with regret. He only ever wants more, and
that’s what scares him. The second their lips touch, or no, worse, the second Jimin’s eyes are
on him, he feels a raging fire taking a hold of him, refusing to let go. The flames consume his
entire body and mind, and it’s only when he leaves the gym, hurrying back home that the
wave of pure self-hate washes over him.

“I’m going to break up with her, soon,” he says pitifully as Jimin puts his shirt over his head.

“I’m not asking you to.”

“No, I know— and I care about her, I do,” he adds. “But I don’t…”

If he says what he wants to say, he can kiss this little thing goodbye.
Jimin will take one look at him and book it out of there, right into the arms of a girl who
probably won’t have trembling hands when she takes his clothes off.

The thought of it makes him sick.

And the truth comes out anyway.

“I don’t think I like girls.”

Jimin’s back is still turned to his, leather jacket back on his shoulders. “Yeah, I know.”

“What?”

He turns, looking at him with furrowed brows. “I said I know.”

He seems torn, in a way, and Jeongguk braces himself as he asks: “And you don’t like guys.”

It’s less of a question than a statement, and Jimin sighs. “I don’t know what I like.”

“You just said you liked girls.”

“Well, yeah, I think my track record has established that.”

“I’m not a girl.”

The dancer scoffs. “Well aware of that, thank you.”

“What’s this all about, then?”

Jimin pinches the bridge of his nose. “Don’t do this.”

“What?”

“Don’t make me the bad guy for not being a hundred percent sure of who I am. I got enough
on my plate already.”

Jeongguk flushes, anxiously pulling on the hem of his shirt. “I’m not! I just don’t know what
you’re thinking. We’ve— we’ve been doing this for weeks, and we never fucking talk about
it. Like, is this a game to you or—”

“I don’t have time for games, Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin sighs. “I like making out with you! I don’t
know what else you want from me.”

“I’m not asking for anything,” he huffs, annoyance peeking.

Jimin just glares at him. “Bullshit, you are! And I get it, it’s shitty not to know,” he throws
his hands in the air. “But I’m on my feet all day, getting yelled at by teachers. Then I come
here, and you’re looking at me like I hold all the secrets to the fucking universe or something,
and you kiss me like you’re picturing our honeymoon. You could barely look me in the eye
the last time we talked about sex. Now you wanna touch my dick and God knows what else,
while your girlfriend is wishing you goodnight. So I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’m the one
playing games here.”

Jeongguk’s eyes widen as he stands there, gobsmacked, trying to process. “What are you
trying to say?”

Jimin groans. “I don’t know! I’m just as confused as you are, but you somehow expect me to
have all the answers.”

He swallows, hard, looking at the tiled floor.

Jimin’s right.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you that day,” the other dancer mutters.

And Jeongguk’s heart would hurt, if it weren’t for the fact that he gets it, because he would
have preferred not knowing, either.

Ignorance is bliss, and all that.

He steps forward. “Yeah, well you did.”

Jimin nods. “I did.”

“And you’re still here.”

“I am,” the dancer sighs, “because I’m fucking stupid. Guess I like girls, and fucking
headcases.”

“Does that bother you?”

He lets out a breath. “Doesn’t make things easier, that’s for sure.”

“I’m going to break up with her,” Jeongguk promises, fingers running up Jimin’s arm. “I was
just trying to find the right time. I never meant for things to get so fucked up. ”

“There’s never a right time for this. Either way, it’s going to suck.”

“Yeah, I know.”

He presses a kiss to his temple, and Jimin sighs. “Just so we’re clear, that doesn’t mean we’re
together.”

The weight in his stomach is more of a stone, nowadays.

“I know.”
“Hurry, we’re going to miss the beginning!” Hyeri pouts, pushing Yugyeom towards the
crosswalk.

“Alright, alright! I’m doing the best I can here,” the other boy groans, motioning to Jeongguk
helplessly. “It’s just a stupid drama anyway.”

The outraged yelps both Nayeon and Hyeri let out could fill a hot air balloon. “It’s April
Kiss, you dingbat— there’s nothing more important than this.”

Hyeri brushes past them, pressing on the button before jumping from one foot to the other.

He takes a reluctant step forward, pulling out strawberry milk out of the convenience store
bag they’ve been carrying to Hyeri’s house. It had been decided, since her TV was the
biggest, that she was to host drama night.

The reason why Jeongguk had to be there at all hadn’t really made sense— until he’d seen
Yugyeom’s secret smile as his fingers brushed Hyeri’s in the street.

“They’re pretty cute, huh,” Nayeon whispers in his ear as she stands right next to him.

He looks straight ahead. “Did you set that up yourself?”

“Yeah, I did,” she smiles proudly.

“What happened to that guy, Soobin?”

She waves a dismissive hand. “He broke up with her a month ago. We went to get chicken at
that place by the station, remember?”

Oh, right. That does ring a bell. The image of Hyeri screaming at a piece of chicken makes a
lot more sense, now.

“Oh, yeah. She got over it quickly,” he notes.

Nayeon scoffs. “You weren’t the one getting calls in the middle of the night. I’m just happy
she’s feeling better now.”

“Yeah, for sure.”

She tugs at his sleeve. “I know I was kind of busy with her, but if she starts dating
Yugyeomie, we’ll have more time together.”

God, he really is the worst boyfriend on the entire planet.

How do you tell someone you haven’t even noticed they were gone?
That you barely even registered your friend going through a breakup, or your other friend
crushing on her, or your freaking girlfriend spending all her free time on someone else than
you?

That all you’ve been able to think of are the next Thursday, and the Thursday after that,
because there is a slight, increasing possibility that you could kiss someone again?

Yeah, he needs to end it.

He grabs her hand. “Nayeon-ah,” he starts, and Hyeri shushes him.

“Hey! Hurry your asses! The light’s about to go green!”

“Sorry—” he says as traffic resumes and the crosswalk lights turn off.

“Gah— and now we have to have another ten minutes,” Hyeri groans, “you couple types are
so slow.” She gestures to the bag Jeongguk’s holding. “Can you pass me a popsicle? Orange
flavored, thank you.”

“Hey, I paid for those,” Yugyeom whines.

“So?”

“Ask me first!”

She rolls her eyes. “Quit being stingy, it’s not Hanwoo.”

“It’s the principle of the thing!”

“Okay, well, may I, please, sir, take a popsicle?” she bows down, and Nayeon laughs.

Yugyeom’s face is almost as pink as the little bunny phone charm on the side of Hyeri’s cell.
“Yeah, yeah. You didn’t have to do it like that.”

She plops the thing in her mouth, a satisfied grin on her face. “Someone needed to teach you
that lesson.”

“See?” Nayeon whispers again, bumping her shoulder against his, “they’re cute. Not as much
as we are, but nobody’s perfect.”

“Yeah,” he laughs, thinking about the mess of his own life, right now.

She leans on him, impervious to the storm raging right against his ribcage, or the bile rising
up in his throat.

It needs to be now. He can’t keep doing this.

“Nayeon…” he starts as she happily sips on her strawberry milk. “Can we actually, like, go
somewhere? Just the two of us?”

She looks up. “Now?”

Oh, God, he’s going to be sick. “Yeah, now.”

“What about the drama?”

Who cares about the drama, seriously?

“We can catch up next week. I wanna talk to you,” he says, hoping his face doesn’t betray
him too much.

In dramas, breakup scenes come from a mile away. It’s always raining outside, the grey sky
matching the energy of the characters, and someone cries with a cool single tear. Nothing
about today would let Nayeon know what he’s about to do.

Cherry blossoms are in full spring, it’s a bright, if only slightly chilly day, and if someone
cries, it’s going to be him.

“Are you okay? You look a little green. Let’s just sit down over there,” she says, gesturing to
a bus stop bench. “Hey guys, I think we’re gonna skip. Jeongguk-ah’s feeling sick.”

Hyeri groans. “Seriously? You guys suck .”

“Hey, I’m still there,” Yugyeom says.

“You don’t count.”

“You know what? Maybe I won’t come and watch April’s kiss either.”

The rest of their bickering gets drowned by traffic, and they cross the street, leaving Nayeon
with a quick goodbye.

God, this is awful.

She’s going to hate him so much. Maybe more than he hates himself.

“Those two are going to be such a fun disaster to watch.”

“Nayeon-ah.”

She frowns, smile still on her face— it’s bound to fall any moment now.

“What is it? You’re kind of scaring me. Did something happen at practice?”

Which one, the one they skipped so Jeongguk could bite into Jimin’s shoulder?

Or the one where they almost fell to the floor, with their hands all over each other?

She should call her brother to beat him up.

“I think we need to stop seeing each other.”

Ah, there it is. The smile is gone, now.

“What?”

“We should break up.”

“What?”she replies, her eyes so, so big. “Why are you saying this all of a sudden?”

He shakes his head. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

It’s a beautiful, sunny, perfect day.

Flowers are in full spring, and he’s ruining it all for her.

“How long?”

He doesn’t want to hurt her more than necessary. “A couple of weeks.”

Tears well up in her eyes. “That long?!”

“I’m so , so sorry,” he adds, as if that would change anything.

“What were you waiting for? Why now?”

Because, he wants to say, I know what it’s like to like someone so much you’d be willing to
take the crumbs they give you, and I don’t want that for you.

But that’s too chivalrous, almost. Like he’s looking out for her, and that’s not what he’s been
doing at all.

“I just realized… that I didn’t love you anymore.”

That is quite possibly the worst thing he’s ever told anyone.

The tears are falling freely, now. “What did I do? Is it something I did?”

“No, Nayeon—”

“Why don’t you love me?” she asks, taking a step forward. “ Everyone loves me!”

“I’m so sorry—“

“Stop saying you’re sorry,” she cries, hitting his chest with her hand. “Just— try to love me!”

“I tried,” he says, chest tight, tight tight.

“Well try harder!”

His throat closes up, and he steps back. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, because there’s nothing else
to say.

Kim Nayeon is a girl who deserves to beam all the time.

As he trudges through his room, he picks himself another brick of strawberry milk, realizing
that he left with the bag of snacks they were supposed to eat today.

He rubs his eyes with his palms.

Fuck.

Nothing’s any easier.

He should feel better, he should feel free or something. But all he can think, all he can see
really, are the tears running down Nayeon’s face.

You did this to her.

Jimin was right.

This sucked.

What happened to him?

He used to want to make her happy, at all costs.

He’s so selfish. Selfish, and awful, and undeserving of love.

Yeah.

That’s it.

He needs to stay alone, forever, as penance.

Shit.

His phone lights up, and he barely looks at it, until he realizes that Nayeon probably won’t
text him again.

He flips it open.

Park Jimin (dance):

Hey
 Park Jimin (dance):

Do you maybe wanna meet up sometime? Outside of practice, I mean

Flips it closed again.

You:

When?

Chapter End Notes

as always, you can find me on Twitter, please consider leaving a little comment or kudos
to let me know how you felt about this!
End Notes

as always, you can find me on Twitter, and please, please consider leaving a little comment or
kudos to let me know how you felt about this!

Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!