Chapter Text
Jeongguk reaches across the rickety table with his chopsticks to drop a piece of his gimbap onto the plastic lid sitting in front of Jimin. In return, he steals a piece of Jimin’s own. It wouldn’t be routine if Jeongguk didn’t trade some ham for a little bulgogi. Jimin smiles at him before he takes a sip of his iced tea, and his eyes crinkle around the corners – an early sign of the way his happiness will linger on his face once he’s older and the crow’s feet start to appear. Jeongguk watches as he turns the page of his book. Light pours over the freshly bloomed leaves, and shadows dapple onto Jimin’s face.
They often spend their lunches like this. Both of them tend to be too busy to ever bring lunch to the campus, so they usually seek refuge at one of the convenience stores nearby. Now that it’s getting warmer out, sometimes they find themselves sticking around at the tables outside for longer than they should, enjoying each other’s company instead of going back to the library or the lectures where they really ought to be.
Jeongguk has been fighting for Jimin’s attention as he studies, but right now, as the light catches just right, he doesn’t mind the lapse in their conversation so much. Springtime suits Jimin. He’s always competing with the flowers to see who blooms best in the sunlight. As a cloud pushes past the sun, it’s clear that there’s no contest at all. Jimin always wins. His pale blue hair is shimmering like the surface of fresh water, and even though they’re downcast at his book, his bright eyes are glinting behind wire-frame glasses. A smile continues to play at his lips, though Jeongguk can’t be sure if that’s due to whatever it is he’s reading or the pout he knows is lingering on Jeongguk’s face.
Jeongguk pushes around some of the rice that had fallen out of his gimbap, and then he gives up on patience. He tries one more time.
“Hyung,” he whines, trying his best to be extra cute, “you really can’t come?”
Jimin looks up, laying his bookmark between the pages of his book and chuckling lightly. “Gguk, you know I have a night class,” Jimin replies warmly. “I told you I’ll just meet you after.”
Just to lay it on thick, Jeongguk pushes out his bottom lip a little and makes sure his eyes are even wider than usual. “Can’t you just skip class once, for me?”
Jimin laughs again, rolling his eyes. He lays his hand over Jeongguk’s knuckles atop the table and squeezes once. “Gguk, baby, I love you, but unfortunately, my grade can’t afford to suffer on account of you.”
Jeongguk groans and cuts his act, slouching in his chair as he pulls his hand from the warmth of Jimin’s touch. He crosses his arms over his chest. “Ugh, hyung, this is what I get for my coming of age?”
Jimin snorts. He sets his book aside before standing, and he walks over to one of the trees lining the street. At its base are a few flowers, and he plucks one carefully. When he returns to their table, he stands by Jeongguk’s side and gently tucks it behind his ear, a pretty white to contrast his dark, flowing hair. Jeongguk feels goosebumps trail their way down his neck when Jimin’s fingers brush along the shell of his ear, but he does his best to ignore them.
“Here, you baby,” Jimin laughs. “That’s tradition, right? A flower for your coming of age day? And you already always smell so good, so I don’t need to give you any perfume.” He stands up straight and looks down at Jeongguk, a playful, somewhat unreadable grin dancing on his pink lips. “I don’t suppose you want a kiss, too, do you?”
Jeongguk blushes furiously, and he casts his gaze away from Jimin’s eyes. No matter how warm and sweet he looks, whenever Jimin gets emboldened like this, Jeongguk can’t help to grow a little shy. He squirms on his side of the bench as he mumbles, “I just want you to come to the pregame.”
He reaches up and toys with the flower in his hair, and by the time Jimin is sitting again, Jeongguk is able to catch another one of his pretty smiles. There’s something in his eyes that Jeongguk can’t read. He’s not sure if it’s fondness or amusement, but either way it makes his face warm.
“Taetae and Jin-hyung will take care of you,” Jimin replies. He waves a hand around. “I’m not worried about it.”
Jeongguk snorts dryly. “Take care of me?” he asks. “More like get me drunk and then proceed to make fun of me for whatever I do.”
Again, Jimin laughs. He taps his fingers on the table. “No different than usual. Are you implying that would change if I were there?”
Jeongguk just groans. He supposes not, but when Jimin is around, he always manages to tolerate a little more teasing. Jimin is soft for Jeongguk, and Jeongguk cares a little bit less when the teasing is coming from him. He chooses not to point that out right now, though he knows he probably doesn’t have to.
“I promise you’ll have plenty of fun without me,” says Jimin
“I’m just saying it’d be more fun,” replies Jeongguk.
“Patience, Gguk,” Jimin hums. He’s already going back to his book.
“I’ve waited 20 years for this!”
Jimin laughs. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “And I think you’ll be okay to wait a couple more hours, hm? I’ll buy you a drink when I arrive at the bar.”
Jeongguk huffs. Jimin doesn’t have to do that, but that’s never the case. He never has to give, but he always does. Jimin is always buying Jeongguk gifts and taking care of him, usually without any rhyme or reason, even when he’s short on money.
Jeongguk gives up his fight then and there, feeling the faint blush that pools in his cheeks as he’s reminded of how Jimin never fails to be there for him. It’ll be alright if Jimin shows up later, Jeongguk tells himself. They can pregame without him. He’s comforted by the fact that as soon as Jimin joins them at the bar, he and Jeongguk will be side by side for the rest of the night.
“Well… good,” he mumbles, unsure of what to say next. He’ll save himself the embarrassment for when Taehyung has poured copious amounts of alcohol into his mouth.
He knows he’s probably better off not suddenly blurting how grateful he is for Jimin, or how much he likes him.
Jimin, in some ways, beats him to it. He reaches for the last bite of gimbap Jeongguk left for him and pops it in his mouth. “You’re lucky I like you so much, Jeongguk. Now be patient, okay? Hyung is excited to spend this special day with you. You’re always very cute when you’re drunk.”
Jeongguk blushes and groans yet again, embarrassed and a little in love. He doesn’t need to say it, because he’s pretty sure Jimin already knows.
The rest of the afternoon passes far too slowly, the way time always seems to lag when there’s something to look forward to. He wades through the hours like time is made of water, but somehow he makes it through his afternoon lectures. After an embarrassingly long ninety minutes spent picking out an outfit with Taehyung, he finds himself in Kim Seokjin’s living room, wearing tight jeans and the new perfume his mother got him.
He and Taehyung walk right in as if it’s their own place, but by this point, it practically is. To an outsider, they might seem a little too comfortable assuming that their hyung’s door is unlocked, but when they assume correctly, Seokjin doesn’t yell at them for not knocking. Really, he does just the opposite. As the door swings open, squeaking on its tired hinges, Seokjin’s head snaps over to them in irritation, and he groans, “Yah, you kids, what took you so long?”
Taehyung snorts as he kicks off his shoes. “What, did you want to start drinking without us?”
He shoulders his messenger bag more securely over his body as he moves into the space of Seokjin’s apartment.
Seokjin rolls his eyes, heading through the threshold of the kitchen to yank open his fridge. Immediately, he starts pulling soju out and placing it on the counter. “I probably should’ve, knowing I’m pregaming with you two.”
Jeongguk raises his nose, offended by Seokjin’s tone alone. He and Taehyung are always a great time to pregame with. He whines, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Seokjin ignores him. “Did you eat?” he calls over his shoulder, still rummaging the fridge.
“Not really,” Taehyung replies.
“Do you want to die? ” Seokjin exclaims. Jeongguk knows about the horrors of drinking on an empty stomach, and he watches as Seokjin pulls out some snacks as well.
“You’re the one who wants to drink somaek!” Taehyung argues.
“It’s coming of age day, we might as well do it right,” Seokjin sighs. He turns around with arms full of chips from his cabinet. “Did you bring the beer?”
Taehyung huffs, exasperated. He opens his bag, mumbling under his breath, “Did I bring the beer… of course I brought the beer…”
At that, Jeongguk steals a bag of chips from Seokjin’s arms and figures it’s best that he stay quiet and let the two of them lead. He watches as the backs of their hands brush and how any of their playful shoves end up blurring into hugs.
Tonight is hardly Jeongguk’s first drink ever, but he’s definitely in the mood to have fun, and it’s rare that he’s able to get all his hyungs in one place. They always have so much fun when they go out together on the weekends, and Jeongguk can’t deny his excitement toward the fact that he’s the reason they’re getting together today. Everyone has their own drunken quirks, and together, they’re kind of the perfect storm. Sometimes, Jimin and Taehyung will come crash at Jeongguk’s dorm after a night out, because he’s closer to the campus bars. They’re always hilarious on nights like those, squirming all over Jeongguk’s floor after trying to cram into his single bed. When Namjoon drinks, he always laughs deep in his belly. Jeongguk always wants to laugh like that with him. When Yoongi drinks, he swears more, and when Hoseok drinks, he usually ends up falling asleep – but the jokes the others make about his lightweight tendencies are always half the fun. When Seokjin drinks he becomes like an oracle – in the most literal sense. Jeongguk always walks away from a buzzed Seokjin with some kind of fortune that never comes true.
He watches Seokjin unscrew the caps from soju bottles and Taehyung pop off the tops of beer bottles, and then Seokjin is clapping a firm hand to one of Jeongguk’s shoulders.
“Jeongguk-ah,” he announces, “we’re celebrating your adulthood today. What are you hoping to accomplish?”
Jeongguk blanches, caught off guard. Technically he’s been an adult since the New Year – today’s simply the day that they’re supposed to celebrate it. He stumbles at the randomness of the question. “Uhh…”
“Maybe now you’ll finally profess your love for Jiminie,” Taehyung notes lightly, starting to pour shots of soju into beer glasses. He squats down to eye level with the countertop, carefully measuring the precise amount of alcohol. “Tonight could be your night.” He shifts his tone into something dreamy, whimsical. “A celebration, a little liquid courage, these jeans… and next thing you know you’re married with three children.”
Jeongguk sticks his tongue out at Taehyung, feeling a hot flush creep into his cheeks as if he’s already had a drink or two. He crosses his arms over his chest. “What, you think because it’s coming of age day and I got dressed up, we’re just gonna elope or something?”
“Maybe,” Taehyung sings, airy and amused.
Jeongguk continues to scowl.
Paying no mind to that, Seokjin throws a few chips into his mouth. He mumbles to himself, “He’d probably say yes. But maybe not to eloping. I feel like Jimin wants a romantic wedding with lots of guests. Start with a regular proposal, that seems like a safer bet.”
Jeongguk simply takes a steady exhale and does his best to change the subject. “Enough about my hypothetical wedding, please. So, are you getting me drunk or are we going to keep talking about my disaster of a love life?”
Seokjin says, “I don’t see why we can’t do both.”
Soon after, Taehyung laughs, “At least you admit it’s a disaster.”
And that’s how Jeongguk knows his prediction for how this night would go was absolutely correct. He sigh is heavy, but Taehyung and Seokjin’s grins are both sly and broad.
Jeongguk continues to munch on his snack, but clearly, Taehyung isn’t done yet. He’s never done, really. There’s always more time to tease Jeongguk. Jeongguk ought to know better by now. Taehyung starts to wave the soju bottle around somewhat dangerously, and the only reason he doesn’t spill it all over the kitchen is because of how much he’s already poured into their waiting glasses.
“Ah, Jin-hyung,” Taehyung sighs, already struggling to hold back his laughter, “you should’ve seen him. When I met him at his dorm to help him pick out an outfit, he had this sad, wilting little flower in his hair.”
Jeongguk’s expression tightens, and he defensively crosses his arms over his chest. He already knows where Taehyung is going with this, because as soon as he’d arrived at Jeongguk’s dorm, the flower was the first thing he commented on. No, how was your day? or, what kind of outfit do you want to wear? Of course not. Instead, Taehyung had practically skidded across the room with how fast he approached Jeongguk, pulling at his wavy, dark hair and asking why Jeongguk had a gross, wilted flower tucked behind his ear. Frankly, Jeongguk had forgotten the flower was even there, and he was quick to pull it from his hair to see its pitiful, scrunched up petals. When Taehyung pointed it out, Jeongguk had flushed with embarrassment as he realized that the flower had been tucked amongst the tendrils of his hair for the entirety of his afternoon lectures. If he’d gotten any weird glances from classmates, he now knows why.
But his reaction garnered a whole new set of questions from Taehyung, who has a knack for spotting a blush like a hawk spots its prey. He’d demanded that Jeongguk explain why he was so shy about it in the first place, and even when Jeongguk tried to say that he was embarrassed that he wore a wilted flower throughout his classes, of course Taehyung didn’t buy that. When Jeongguk admitted that Jimin was the one who put it there, Taehyung, naturally, could only cling to that specific detail of the story.
Jeongguk tried to defend himself. He really did. “It’s my coming of age!” he’d argued. “I’m supposed to have a flower! It’s tradition.”
Unaffected, Taehyung activated his selective hearing and instead cooed over the fact that Jimin would so romantically put a flower in Jeongguk’s hair, and then he promptly put Jeongguk in the tightest pair of jeans he owns.
Now, here Jeongguk stands, mildly uncomfortable in his restrictive pants, and on his way to being absolutely dragged by his hyungs.
Before Taehyung can even say it himself, and before Jeongguk can even make an attempt to defend himself again, Seokjin beats them to it. Laughing, he wonders, “Did Jimin give it to you?”
Jeongguk doesn’t answer the question, but he supposes he doesn’t have to if both of them know the answer already. He tightens his folded arms over his chest and leans back against the counter. “You guys are the worst,” he whines. “You’re making me not want to drink with you.” He pauses to look around the room, his eyes catching on the bottles of beer waiting to be poured. “Speaking of which, why aren’t we drinking yet? Are you stalling?”
Seokjin pays his question no mind, and he grabs at Jeongguk’s wrists to uncross his arms from over his body. “Answer the question, Gguk,” he teases.
Jeongguk huffs and blushes. “Yes!” he exclaims, exasperated. “Yes, Jimin gave it to me. But that’s just because I was complaining about him not being able to come to the pregame, so he gave me the flower because he was trying to cheer me up.”
“I don’t see you complaining about anyone else not being here…” Taehyung points out. He raises his eyebrows, and his tongue pokes out suggestively.
One might think that Taehyung would have a little more finesse when talking about Jeongguk’s crush on Jimin, considering Jimin is his best friend. But he, like most of their friends, is beyond the point of trying to play dumb. They all know how Jeongguk feels, and they all tease him for it. Taehyung especially has let all guard down. At this point, he’s completely lawless, and Jeongguk squirms thinking about his utter lack of filter. Anything Jeongguk says or does is basically public knowledge. Whatever Taehyung knows, Jimin knows. Taehyung calls it their “soulmate connection” but Jeongguk knows it’s really just his big mouth. In any case, Jeongguk has essentially surrendered himself to the fact that Jimin knows exactly what kind of feelings Jeongguk has for him.
And they all wonder why he blushes so much. Can he be blamed for being a little embarrassed when Jimin goes on acting like Jeongguk is just his cute dongsaeng who he likes to dote on even though he probably knows very well exactly how much Jeongguk likes him?
While probably mostly futile, Jeongguk still tries to cover his own ass even though Taehyung’s words hold an air of truth. Yeah, Jeongguk is sad that not all of his hyungs could come to the pregame, but he knows he’ll see them all later. He can’t help but wish Jimin could be here with him to share their first drink of the night – but Taehyung doesn’t need to know that.
Seokjin, however, is just as bad as Taehyung. No wonder they like each other so much. He snorts. “Yeah, and Yoongi easily could have been here. I’m pretty sure he’s just sitting at home right now.”
Jeongguk pouts. He didn’t know that. “Well, that’s because I thought he was busy!” he mumbles. “Everyone else said they were busy, so I assumed he was too.”
His hyungs don’t believe him, but that’s not surprising, either. “Uhuh, okay, big boy,” Seokjin laughs. He pokes at Jeongguk some more. “Don’t worry, your darling Jimin-ssi will be with us later.”
Jeongguk groans. He’s actually starting to get kind of annoyed. “I’m not even the one who brought him up! I haven’t complained to you guys at all that he’s not here, I only complained to him! I know better than to talk about him around you because you never leave me alone about it.” Staring at his shoes, he absently thinks of how intently Jimin was studying this afternoon. He finds himself getting a little caught up at the thought of it. Under his breath, he adds in mild distress, “I’m just saying, he takes school so seriously that he could afford to skip a class every once in a while… that’s all…”
When he looks up again, his hyungs are staring at him. Taehyung’s eyes are even bigger than usual, and he’s gazing at Jeongguk with a cruel mixture of fondness and amusement on his face, as if Jeongguk’s concern for Jimin is simultaneously the most endearing and most hilarious thing on Earth.
He clicks his tongue. “If you’re this much of a mess sober today, I can’t imagine what you’ll be like drunk.”
Jeongguk sticks his tongue out at him. He considers himself a relatively low-key drunk, if he does say so himself. “Has just talking about Jimin already earned me the title of a mess? That seems a little much. You two are so mean, really,” he groans. He eyes the awaiting soju. “Is this one of those moments when I’m supposed to say, ‘Wow, I could really use a drink right now?’ Because, wow, I could really use a drink right now.”
And Taehyung and Seokjin just laugh.
Seokjin wraps a reassuring arm around Jeongguk’s shoulders and guides him closer to the counter where their glasses await.
“Now,” Taehyung interjects, “let hyung show you how to make perfect somaek.”
Seokjin sends him an incredulous look, his mouth dropping open. “What?” he exclaims. “I taught you how to make this when you came of age. I’m showing him.”
Jeongguk doesn’t bother to point out that Seokjin and Taehyung have individually taught him this at least five times each, considering he’s technically been of age for months now. Not to mention, they weren’t exactly shy about drinking around him before then.
Taehyung pouts a little bit, but he lets Seokjin lead in the end. They might bicker back and forth a lot, but in truth, they’re both hopelessly soft for one another. Taehyung’s eyes end up sparkling as he watches. Seokjin carefully goes through the steps, explaining the method to Jeongguk as if it's a science. He pours the beer on top of the shots Taehyung had measured into the glasses earlier, using chopsticks to stir and make a bright, white foam. When they’re complete, he shoves a glass into Jeongguk’s hand and holds his own up.
“Cheers, Jeongguk-ah,” Seokjin murmurs. “Geonbae! I really am proud of you. You grew up well.”
Jeongguk lets himself smile, feeling Taehyung lean into his side, holding his glass up too.
“I’m proud of you too, Gguk. You’re only a little bit of a brat,” says Taehyung. Jeongguk checks him with his hip, doing it more gently than usual only to avoid spilling their drinks. “But…”
“But?” says Jeongguk.
“You have to chug,” he finishes solemnly.
Jeongguk grins, looking back and forth between his two hyungs. With a proudly raised glass and a sudden rush of excitement that the night is really starting, he lifts his eyebrows and declares, “Let’s get it.”
An hour later, they’re all pretty drunk. Jeongguk’s cheeks are red, his skin is hot, and his shirt has at least three more buttons undone compared to when he arrived. His hair is tied back now with some loose strands hanging by his eyes, but every time he passes by a mirror, he feels more and more confident. Seokjin and Taehyung are still teasing him, but they’ve mostly moved on from the topic of Jimin, which gives Jeongguk free reign to tease back just as much. Taehyung turned on loud music at some point, and now he keeps standing up from where they’d moved to the couch to dance by himself.
They’ve relocated all of their alcohol to the living room, and Taehyung sways his hips even as he bends over the coffee table to refill their glasses. Jeongguk chuckles to himself as he watches Taehyung pour far more soju this time than he did for the first and second rounds of somaek. He wiggles the bottle over the glass to get every last drop, and as he cracks open another beer, he rumbles in his deep voice, “Jeongguk, you’re an adult now. What’s important is that you learn how to drink like one. Is your tolerance up to par? Your five month trial period is over.”
Jeongguk snorts as Taehyung tops off their glasses and stirs. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he retorts. “No offense, Taetae-hyung, but you’re one of the sloppiest drunks I’ve ever met.”
From beside Jeongguk on the couch, Seokjin laughs hysterically, his voice coming out as high-pitched squeaks that somehow suit his flushed cheeks.
Offended, Taehyung withdraws the glass he was about to hand to Jeongguk and clutches it close to his chest. It sloshes precariously. “After all I’ve done for you, this is how you treat me?” Taehyung cries. “Yah, I bought all this beer for this brat and he calls me sloppy ?”
Jeongguk waves a hand around and grabs one of the other glasses from the table, taking a long sip before he replies. “I’ve seen you drunk enough times to know the truth. Even if I hadn’t, Jimin-hyung has a whole arsenal of blackmail on you. Have you really never looked through the ‘Drunk Taehyung’ folder on his phone? Besides, you fall asleep on my floor after going to the bars like once a week. That’s enough for me to know what kind of drunk you are.”
Taehyung’s pretty eyes widen in anger, and he pulls his phone from his back pocket. With his drink in one hand and his phone in the other, he rises to his full height. “Oh, Park Jimin is gonna get it.”
He starts to walk away crouched over his screen. Still laughing, Seokjin asks, “Where are you going?”
“Your bedroom!” Taehyung cries. “I’m gonna take a million selcas to send to Jimin so he calls me pretty and ignores the fact that I’m about to yell at him for amassing blackmail on me!”
Neither of them fully understand what that entails. All they can do is watch him go.
Once Taehyung disappears down the hallway, Seokjin leans back against the cushions of the couch with a loud sigh. “I can’t believe I’ve been pouring soju all night for the baby I raised on my back.”
“Hyung, you act like this is the first time we’ve ever had a drink together. Besides, we met when I was sixteen,” Jeongguk points out, grinning at both of his hyungs’ theatrics.
“You were a baby!” Seokjin says.
Jeongguk knows a little better than to argue, so he just laughs again. As he sits on the couch and stares at the music videos playing on Seokjin’s TV, he daydreams a little. With the somaek thrumming through his veins, he’s quick to relax in his seat. His whole body buzzes slightly, his head swims pleasantly. As he works through his thoughts, it feels like he’s wading through something warm and sweet. It’s a nice level of drunkenness, and even though he’s always comfortable around his hyungs, everything feels even easier. Everything is a little funnier, a little more beautiful, a little more worth being happy about.
He knows they’re approaching the time that they’ll head to the bar, and excitement twists in his belly. It’ll be fun to be out with all of his friends, and he’s hit with an urge to look in the mirror again to make sure he still looks as good as he recalls from half an hour ago. Jimin lingers in his thoughts, too, and even though he knows tonight is just another night, Jeongguk can’t help but want to make a good impression on Jimin. He always does, even though it’s subconscious most of the time. Distantly, he knows there’s not much of an impression to make. They’ve known each other for too long, and they know each other too well. They’re too close for one night to suddenly change the way Jimin sees him. Still, a fantasy sits in the back of his head that having something to celebrate will trigger a chain reaction, like the allure of a dark bar and the warmth of alcohol will draw them closer to one another.
He swipes his hair from his eyes, and as his hand brushes past his nose, he catches a whiff of the perfume he’d sprayed along his wrists to rub on his neck earlier. He’s sure that it’s the alcohol that emboldens him to so awkwardly blurt, “Hyung, do I smell good?”
Seokjin blinks as if he was just as zoned out as Jeongguk had been a moment before. “What?” he says.
“Do I smell good,” Jeongguk repeats, more urgently this time.
Seokjin blinks a few more times before leaning into Jeongguk’s side to sniff the column of his neck. “Actually,” he says, sounding pleased, “yeah.”
The look on his face still begs the question why.
Jeongguk blushes and rubs the back of his head shyly. “This perfume is new, so I wanted to make sure it’s nice. My mom got it for me for coming of age.”
“You wouldn’t wear it if it wasn’t nice. You’re a smell snob.”
Jeongguk lifts an eyebrow. “What does that even mean?”
“Why are you so worried anyway?” Seokjin says, ignoring Jeongguk’s question – very on-brand, really. Something about Seokjin always has to remain his own special mixture of cryptic, confusing, and very much himself. “By the end of the night, you’ll probably just smell like beer.”
“I just wanted to know what you thought!” Jeongguk defends.
Seokjin laughs, turning to Jeongguk and poking his chest for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. “Do you think Jimin is gonna be sniffing you later?” he teases. “Is that why you’re double checking?”
Jeongguk groans, but again, his blush bests him. Maybe he’d vaguely thought about Jimin thinking he smells nice, but he wants to smell good for everyone. It’s like a public service. There’s nothing worse than gross perfume that overtakes a room.
“Oh my God, why are you so hung up on Jimin tonight?” he exclaims, exasperated.
Seokjin takes a sip of his beer and holds up a finger as if he’s proclaiming some groundbreaking fact. “Technically, you’re the one hung up on him.”
Jeongguk scrubs at his hot cheeks. The alcohol is really not helping his blush. “Well, why do you keep bringing him up?” he whines.
“If I didn’t, you would do it eventually,” Seokjin notes.
Jeongguk groans, finds a pillow, and buries his face in it. “Holy shit,” he groans. “I hate you.”
In his defense, he hasn’t been the one to bring up Jimin once tonight, but he supposes that his hyungs aren’t entirely wrong in suggesting that he’s thinking of him. Jimin is always lingering in his head, and the more Jeongguk drinks, the more he fixates on how pretty Jimin will look later. Jimin always likes to dress up a little bit when he goes to the bars. He’ll brush eyeshadow over his eyelids, put on his higher-heeled boots, his ripped jeans, his low cut shirts. Park Jimin is always a vision, but Jeongguk just knows there’ll be something about him when he looks at Jeongguk with a drink in his hand and low-lidded eyes. And by the end of the night, his makeup is always smeared, his neckline off-center, his hair wavy by his temples – and that’s how Jeongguk likes him best, when he comes to Jeongguk’s dorm and asks to snuggle up in his single bed, too buzzed and too tired to go home. Nights like those, Jimin comes to Jeongguk as if Jeongguk is a home in and of himself.
“No you don’t, Jeongguk-ah,” replies Seokjin easily. “Besides, it’s okay that you’re in love. You guys are cute.”
Jeongguk nearly chokes. He lifts his head from the pillow and narrows his eyes even though his blush is now steadily creeping down his neck. “First of all,” he mutters, but his voice cracks. He tries again after clearing his throat. “First of all, I’m not in love. Saying it like that makes it sound like he’s my boyfriend or something…”
Seokjin shrugs like it’s no big deal. “He could be,” he says.
Jeongguk’s eyes widen before he looks down. “Shut up, I’m not delusional.”
“You’re right,” Seokjin agrees, as if he was mistaken before. “I forgot that you’re proposing later. Who needs a boyfriend when you can have a fiancé? You’ve always been the type to be stupidly good at things. I’m sure if you skip a few steps in the courting process it’ll all turn out fine. I don’t think Jimin will mind.”
Jeongguk splutters. “I’m not courting him.”
Seokjin gives him a dry look. Flatly, he says, “So you don’t wanna marry him?”
Jeongguk squirms in his place on the couch. Suddenly, his jeans feel even tighter than before. “Well– can you just–” He cuts himself off by taking a long sip of his somaek. After he swallows, he keeps his lips against the rim of his glass and mumbles, “It doesn’t matter either way. Please, let’s just stop talking about my marriage.”
Seokjin looks like he’s about to relent, but as if on the cue of some bad, staged sitcom, re-enter Taehyung: his hair more mussed than before and a proud energy in the swing of his step. “Oh, are we wedding planning?” he asks excitedly. “Drunk wedding planning is the best. ”
The drink he had just refilled before going into Seokjin’s room is now close to empty, and Jeongguk knows that the reason he took so long to come back is because he definitely edited all of his selcas in a bunch of different ways and sent them to Jimin to choose the best filter. He plops onto the loveseat adjacent to them and props his chin on his palm. His long eyelashes bat excitedly, waiting for Jeongguk and Seokjin to carry on with the wedding plans.
“Why are you talking like you’ve done this before?” Jeongguk wonders. In truth, he can only imagine what kind of weird things Taehyung gets up to when he’s drunk. Jeongguk knows he’s only seen the half of it. He really wouldn’t be surprised if he and Jimin drunk made Pinterest boards for their weddings before. That seems like something they would do.
Taehyung just huffs dismissively. “You don’t know my life,” he mutters, and so they spend the next twenty minutes discussing what kind of colors Jimin and Jeongguk would use for the florals at their hypothetical wedding. Jeongguk is not sure if he loves the conversation or hates it.
They do end up getting a taxi to the bar eventually, but not before they waste more time on the couch. As it turns out, Taehyung does have a wedding-themed Pinterest board, and they spend at least fifteen minutes huddled over his phone – embarrassingly engrossed as they compare invitation designs and argue over flower arrangements – before they go anywhere. This, in turn, puts them at the bar significantly later than they’d anticipated, and when they arrive, Hoseok, Namjoon, and Yoongi are already there. Their friends are tucked over in a corner, sitting at a few high top tables haphazardly pushed together to accommodate their group. They’re doing just fine on their own, laughing together and picking at the bar snacks they must have already ordered.
As they walk through the door, Jeongguk vaguely registers that he is drunker than he planned to be by this point in the night, but his spirits are high. He feels good. There’s a buzz prickling pleasantly under his skin, and he likes the sound his boots make on the shiny floor as he follows behind Seokjin and Taehyung. His last glance in the mirror before they left Seokjin’s place left him feeling confident, and because he can’t stop smiling, there’s a sweet dimple carved into his cheek as he wanders over to his friends. His whole body is warm from the thrum of alcohol, but the car ride over had cooled him down as the evening air rolled in through the open window. He feels comfortable in his skin. As he pushes through bodies, he’s pretty sure he turns a few heads, too.
When they make it over to the table, Jeongguk overflows with happiness at the sight of his friends, who all whoop and holler to greet each other. There’s already a round of soju and beers on the table, and Jeongguk finds a drink pushed into his hand as soon as he’s close enough to reach out and grasp it. He hugs each of the hyungs who were waiting for them, and he reaches Hoseok last, whose warm embrace is comforting. When they pull back from one another, Hoseok’s hand lingers on Jeongguk’s bicep, and he looks at Jeongguk with an amused smile on his face.
Jeongguk figures that it could mean one of two things. One, Hoseok is already drunk himself and has that giddy look on his face just from his buzz. Fairly likely. Two, Jeongguk is visibly drunk, and Hoseok thinks it’s funny. This is even more likely – but it doesn’t bother Jeongguk. Hoseok is always sweet and fond, and this feels no different.
His exclamation that comes soon after proves Jeongguk’s theory right.
“Jeongguk!” Hoseok booms, stretching out his name so long that it sounds like a sentence itself. “You’re all grown up!”
Jeongguk’s smile grows, and Hoseok’s warm hand squeezes his arm again. He laughs, mumbling, “Tell that Jin-hyung. He keeps calling me his ‘precious baby that he raised.’”
Hoseok laughs, pulling out one of the stools by the high top and sitting down. Jeongguk follows suit. “He told that to Tae and Jiminie when they came of age too, remember?”
“It’s different for them though,” Jeongguk insists. “Jin-hyung and Taehyungie-hyung kiss.”
He says the last part in a lower volume, like a kid trying to hide a secret, but Hoseok stays largely unphased. He shrugs. It’s not like what Jeongguk said is news to him; he doesn’t seem to care either way. “Anyway, how are you feeling, champ?” He glances over at Seokjin and Taehyung who are both talking way too loudly at Yoongi. “Those two treat you right?”
“I’m drunk,” Jeongguk replies. He figures that says it all.
Hoseok grins. “Excellent.”
They ease into conversation, but no matter how much Hoseok makes Jeongguk laugh, there’s a small part of him that’s unfocused – and not just because of the alcohol. Even as he continues to drink and giggle with his friends, his knee shakes impatiently under the table. He’s not really sure what time it is, but he would put money on the fact that Jimin is running late. With a class that ends at nine and Jimin’s bad habit of taking too long to get ready, anyone who knows Jimin could have foreseen this. He’s pretty much always late, and even though Jeongguk expects it, he still can’t wait for Jimin to be here.
It’s not that he’s not having a good time. His friends make it hard not to, between Hoseok’s vibrant laughter that grows louder with every drink and Taehyung, Seokjin, and Yoongi’s incessant, flirtatious bickering. Jeongguk’s buzz is keeping him giggling and his friends are keeping him smiling, but there’s something about their group of friends that always feels off when only one is missing.
He is, at the very least, comforted by the fact that he’s not the only one thinking about Jimin’s absence. After Hoseok gets up to wander to the bar, or maybe to the bathroom, Namjoon is quick to take his place.
With an easy smile, he leans over the table and asks, “Where’s Jimin?” as if Jeongguk would be the first to know. If not Taehyung, Namjoon’s probably right. Jeongguk usually does know where Jimin is. Or rather, they’re hardly ever apart.
He shrugs. “I dunno,” he mumbles. His words slurs a little, but more cutely than drunkenly. He tries not to whine as he shoves his chin into his palm with a pout. “I miss him.”
Namjoon’s eyes gently curve, just a little bit. He’s clearly amused by Jeongguk, but Jeongguk is a little too buzzed and a little more focused on other things to notice. “He’s coming though, right?” Namjoon asks.
Jeongguk nods. “He just had a night class, that’s why he didn’t come to the pregame,” he explains. He sighs as he looks toward the entrance of the bar. “And now he’s probably running late. You know how he is. He’s always running late. He actually told me that he’s late to work like twice a week, but his managers never mind. It’s probably because he’s so cute, right? It’s gotta be. What kind of manager doesn’t care when their employee is routinely late?”
Namjoon laughs brightly. Jeongguk vaguely registers that he just spoke about Jimin for an embarrassing amount of time and told Namjoon a story that he never asked to hear, but, once again, he doesn’t really care.
“Want me to text him and ask where he is?” Namjoon asks, reaching into the pocket of his loose jeans.
Jeongguk stops him as his eyes widen. “Are you trying to imply that it’s a bad idea for me to text him myself? Is this your way of telling me that I’m too drunk to be sending texts to the boy I like?”
Namjoon laughs even harder. He places a reassuring hand on Jeongguk’s forearm. “Jeongguk-ah, relax. I’m not saying that at all. I just thought you might wanna know when he’s coming. I wanna know when he’s coming. Anyway, he’s your best friend, even if you did drunk text him, which I’m fairly sure you’ve done before, I think it’d be fine. You’ve seen him so drunk that he tried to bring back prank calling and ended up sobbing on the phone with an ajumma who he tried to trick, and then he listened to her talk about her life story for like, two hours. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
Jeongguk exhales in relief. “Sorry.”
Namjoon’s grin only gets bigger. “You’re fine,” he murmurs. “If you were worryingly drunk, I’d let you know.” He glances at Jeongguk carefully. “And frankly, even if you do get to that point, I say fuck it. It’s coming of age day. To be honest, it’s probably kind of inevitable, because Tae and Jimin will definitely keep buying you drinks.”
Jeongguk looks down at his beer that has not gotten below half full this whole night because of his hyungs constantly refilling it. Perhaps Namjoon has a point. “Cool,” he says. “Thanks, hyung. Also, good point.” He raises his glass before he takes a sip. “Fuck it.”
Namjoon lets out one more laugh before waving around his phone. “So, do you want me to text him?”
Right, Jimin. Jeongguk is shocked that he went more than thirty seconds without thinking about him. He shakes his head. “No, it’s fine. He’ll be here,” he tells Namjoon.“I just–”
There’s a knowing smile. “Miss him?”
Jeongguk flushes and rubs the back of his neck. Oblivious to the fact that he’s said he missed Jimin verbatim just a few moments ago, he squirms. Maybe he’s more transparent than he thinks. “Yeah.”
“You’re cute, Jeongguk-ah,” Namjoon says. Jeongguk’s blush only grows, because an outright compliment like that from Namjoon is rare. He doesn’t expect what comes next, though. “Haven’t you thought of just asking him out?”
Jeongguk scoffs into his beer. “Thought of it? Of course. Actually considered doing it? Fuck no.”
Again, Namjoon laughs at him, but his chuckles come out more surprised this time. His calm gaze widens, and he even lets out a snort, probably because Jeongguk is being far more blunt than he would be without the kick from the alcohol. Jeongguk knows it, too, but he also doesn’t give that much of a shit. What he said is the truth and all his friends know it, too. In any case, if he ever has to defend himself, most people have thought about asking Park Jimin out. Jeongguk is hardly alone in that fantasy.
“It’s not like he’d turn you down,” Namjoon insists brightly after he stops his laughter.
Jeongguk rolls his eyes and then huffs. “Why do all of you talk about that so confidently? Has he said so? No.”
Namjoon opens his mouth as if he’s going to reply, but he stops himself by lifting his glass to take a sip of his beer. After he swallows, the glint that had momentarily appeared in his eye has vanished, and he looks a little more composed – more like an advice-giving hyung than the meddling one that had just encouraged Jeongguk to get fucked up off of free beer and ask out his long-time crush.
He clears his throat. “Well, regardless, you’re turning a new leaf today. You’re celebrating adulthood. A whole new Jeon Jeongguk. Maybe you’ll surprise him.”
He winks, and Jeongguk wrinkles his nose. “But I’ve been an adult since the beginning of the year! Are you saying he’s going to look at me differently all of a sudden because today is the day we celebrate it? I’m still Jeongguk. No offense, hyung, but you don’t seem like the type to buy into ceremonious things like that. Y’know, I’d always thought you’d be the kind of guy who thinks time is a social construct and all.”
Apparently, Namjoon thinks mildly-drunk Jeongguk is hilarious or something, because he laughs again, harder this time. He even has to wipe a rogue tear from the corner of one of his eyes. “You’re right, Gguk, I don’t buy into things like that, and I do think time is a social construct.” In any other setting than a bar, Jeongguk thinks, this would be the kind of topic that the two of them stay up all night discussing. “What I mean is, maybe today can be something for you, even if it’s sort of made up. You can just tell yourself that you’re in a new chapter of your life; it’s not that the calendar hitting a certain date means suddenly everything is changing for you. All I’m saying is, if you want something, you should go for it. I know you’re no different than you were yesterday, but if you've been looking for an excuse to do things differently, now you have one. So, take it and run.”
Jeongguk nods solemnly and takes a long pull from his beer. “Yeah,” he mumbles eventually. “Okay.”
He’s not totally sure if he understands what Namjoon is trying to say, but it’ll probably hit him later when his head is a little clearer. For now, he’ll just keep doing what he always does. Seconds later, he’s already swept in another conversation with Taehyung about the anime they were watching last week, and Namjoon’s advice slips to the back of his mind.
By the time Jimin actually does arrive, Jeongguk is pretty far gone. He’s not obliterated – not stumbling or nauseous or any of that – but he’s definitely drunk. That doesn’t keep his head from turning toward the door as soon as he notices Jimin walking through it. Jimin makes eye contact with him immediately, and while Jeongguk expects him to come greet their group of friends, instead he makes a beeline for the bar and jerks his head to get Jeongguk to follow.
Jeongguk listens, of course, but not without grounding himself in his skin first. His head has been swimming with the thought of Jimin all night, but now that he’s really here, Jeongguk is a little unsure of what all the anticipation was for. All he knows is that he wants to be close to him, but that’s no different than usual. They’re always drawn to each other, heating each other up the way the sun brings hot fervor to the color black. Jeongguk’s mind is a bit hazy. He’s feeling drunk and pretty emboldened, and knowing that he looks good with the makeup Taehyung had put on him, most of his inhibitions have slipped away.
Once he remembers he’s supposed to be walking, he pushes through some of the mingling bodies blocking his way to the bar and comes to stand next to Jimin. At first, he thinks about going in for a hug, but something stops him. He stares at Jimin waiting to get the attention of the bartender. Jimin is pressed up on his tiptoes in his pretty leather Chelsea boots, his whole body thrown over the countertop. He looks gorgeous, as if every moment he spent running late was time devoted just for him to look this good. But Jeongguk knows that’s not true. Jimin could just be sitting at home, barefaced and in sweatpants, and he’d still look like he’s been graced by some kind of magic, ethereal and alluring.
That’s not to say that he didn’t doll himself up tonight, though. His faded blue hair is pushed off his forehead, and his eyes are darkened by smokey eyeshadow smudged at the corners of his eyelids. His pants are tight, and Jeongguk can follow every line of his body, from the slightness of his waist where his shirt is belted to his pants to the soft curve of his neck meeting his shoulders. Staring at him like this, somehow illuminated in the dim light of the bar, Jeongguk wants him. Jeongguk wants him, and he’s drunk, and for some reason he's more tempted than usual to take a couple risks — to have a little fun.
He tugs at his bottom lip as he waits for Jimin to finish talking to the bartender. Vaguely, he registers the fact that Jimin is ordering two drinks even though Jeongguk hasn’t finished the one in his hand yet, but he can’t bring himself to interrupt. He doesn’t want to interrupt. It would ruin the moment and this little plan he’s thought up.
When the bartender turns his back after giving Jimin a sweet, flirtatious smile, Jimin immediately shifts his attention to Jeongguk. With both of them leaning against the bar, he throws an arm over Jeongguk’s shoulders and smiles. Now that Jimin’s eyes are finally on him, Jeongguk allows his expression to change. He gives Jimin a hard look and knits his eyebrows together, gazing at Jimin as if they’ve never met before.
Jimin looks taken aback at Jeongguk’s expression, so used to seeing Jeongguk greet him with a blush and a smile, or a warm hug. Cocking his head, Jimin spreads out his fingers along Jeongguk’s shoulder blades – a reassuring touch. “I hope hard alcohol is okay?” Jimin asks. “Tae told me you were already drinking somaek tonight, but I wanted to treat you to a proper drink.”
Jeongguk swallows. Quite frankly, he has no idea what Jimin even ordered when he was talking to the bartender. He wasn’t paying attention to that in the slightest. Now, as he opens his mouth, he knows the alcohol in his bloodstream is the only thing allowing him to keep a straight face. Lowering his eyes, he stares at Jimin and murmurs, “Such a beautiful stranger buying me a drink at a bar? How lucky am I?”
A hint of amusement passes over Jimin’s face, but overall, he doesn’t react. After the words leave his mouth, Jeongguk becomes almost one hundred percent sure that Namjoon did not mean for his advice to be taken like this, but frankly, Jeongguk is a little at odds. Namjoon said that he should try to do things differently. Jeongguk definitely doesn’t want to embarrass himself as Jimin’s best friend, so he figures he might as well try to embarrass himself as a fake-stranger. He knows he won’t hear the end of this bit he’s about to start once Namjoon finds out about it, but who says he can’t role play with his favorite hyung at a bar?
To Jeongguk, there are plenty of good reasons to go through with this stupid plan. Yes, it’s spur of the moment. But it’s also the best plan he can think of, and at this point, he’s kind of at the end of his rope. For one, it seems funny. If all else fails, it can just be a silly joke. Two, Jeongguk is drunk, on his coming of age no less. Shouldn’t that be a good enough excuse? And three, there’s no way in hell that he’d ever be confident enough to ask Jimin out just on an ordinary day. Besides, whenever Jeongguk wants to play around, Jimin never says no to him. Why should Jeongguk pretending that they’re strangers meeting at a bar be any different? Maybe Jimin will think this is sexy… or something.
Jimin approaches the situation with a hint of trepidation. He taps his fingers on Jeongguk’s back, amusement still written over his face. Carefully, he says, “A stranger? Gguk, has Tae given you so much beer that you’ve forgotten me?”
Jeongguk freezes. He kind of forgot how bad he is at these spur of the moment interactions, so he pauses before replying. He’s not sure the best way to approach this, so just mumbles, “You might have known the old me, but I’m a new Jeongguk now. It’s a pleasure to introduce myself.” Boldly, he moves his face closer into Jimin’s space. He holds back glancing down at Jimin’s lips, knowing that might stop his train of thought right in its tracks. “What’s your name, beautiful stranger?”
Jeongguk watches Jimin digest the situation – it plays out all over his face. As expected, he plays along as soon as he figures out what Jeongguk is doing. That’s nearly enough to make Jeongguk sigh in relief. Jimin definitely holds back a laugh, already so amused and definitely not drunk enough, but he smiles nonetheless. Jeongguk is grateful he doesn’t ask any further questions.
“Ah, right. I was mistaken. I’m Park Jimin,” he murmurs. He lets his eyes wander Jeongguk’s face, the line of his neck, the smooth expanse of his chest that’s exposed from all those buttons he undid at Seokjin’s house. “I saw you over by your friends, and when I noticed you walking over, I just had to come buy you a drink.”
Jimin’s words make Jeongguk’s palms start to sweat a little, and the hand on his shoulder suddenly feels much heavier than it did a moment ago. It’s just a game, really. He knows they’re just playing around. Still, he realizes that this is his in. It’s his chance to have a little fun, to speak shamelessly – and knowing he has another drink on the way gives him all the more reason to just say what he wants. “Are you making moves on me so soon after meeting me?” Jeongguk asks.
He stands to his full height, and Jimin’s hand falls from his shoulder. Jimin rights himself, too, staring at Jeongguk as he wordlessly slides a few thousand won over the surface of the bar. Jeongguk hadn’t even noticed that the bartender came back, and here Jimin is, paying him off without even looking him in the eye. Standing on his tiptoes, Jimin braces both hands on one of Jeongguk’s shoulders and whispers in his ear. “Depends. Is it considered making a move if I just wanted a pretty boy to have a drink in his hand? That’s up to you to decide. Enjoy it, baby. I’m gonna say hi to our friends.”
Jimin lowers his mouth, leaving Jeongguk shivering. The word baby runs through his head on a loop; the shape Jimin’s lips made when he said it, the sound of it echoing past his ear. Jimin makes to turn away with a flourish, but Jeongguk doesn’t want to let him win so easily. Jimin always knows when he flusters Jeongguk, and right now, he probably thinks he’s had an easy victory. Jeongguk grabs Jimin’s free wrist, the one not holding onto his freshly poured cocktail.
“Our friends?” he asks. “We just met, Jimin-ssi. How do you know my friends?”
That amused look appears on Jimin’s face again. Maybe he’s surprised that Jeongguk is keeping up this silly act, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it. In fact, Jimin seems to like it a lot, and it doesn’t help that he’s good at it. He takes a long sip of his drink through the straw. His pursed lips are pink and plush, and this time, Jeongguk can’t stop himself from staring.
“I just have a feeling that we have a few things in common,” Jimin says cryptically. His eyes are still lowered, and his gaze traces all over Jeongguk’s body. If Jeongguk had felt hot before Jimin arrived, now there’s a roaring fire licking beneath his skin – Jimin has always been that bright, burning thing for him.
Jeongguk swallows around nothing, fumbling with the glass waiting for him on the bartop. “Yeah?” he croaks.
Jimin winks. “Just one or two,” he says, and then he’s walking away, leaving Jeongguk an utter mess just from a few words.
He stands there dumbly for a few seconds, but eventually he realizes that there are other people trying to order drinks, so he shuffles back to the other side of the room and slumps next to Yoongi, who’s got his legs crossed and some whiskey drink set in front of him.
“Hi, kiddo,” Yoongi says. “Having fun?”
Jeongguk briefly considers his options for how this conversation could go, but when he catches a glimpse of Jimin throwing his head back in laughter at something Taehyung said, he decides there’s only one right course of action. He props his head on his hand and sips the drink Jimin got him, sighing. Then he says, “So I met this stranger at the bar.”
Of course, Yoongi is no Jimin, and he’s not playing along. Not that he has any reason to – he has no idea what Jeongguk and Jimin had just talked about at the bar – but still. Jeongguk kind of assumed everyone would play along. Who doesn’t want to get a little ridiculous when they’re drunk? But, Jeongguk realizes, Yoongi probably isn’t drunk. No, Yoongi is looking at Jeongguk like he has three heads. Yoongi is eyeing Jeongguk’s drink like he wants to confiscate it.
“What stranger?” says Yoongi. “I only saw you with Jimin.”
Yoongi might not be playing along, but Jeongguk is drunk and persistent. “Yeah, Jimin. We just met.”
Yoongi is starting to look a little concerned. “What?” he says flatly.
Jeongguk sighs, slamming a hand down on the table. “Hyung, we’re role playing.”
Yoongi scratches the back of his neck as he thinks of what to say next. In a gentle tone, he starts, “Gguk, I know you guys have always been a little… unconventional, but maybe you two should try to have sex just as Jeongguk and Jimin before you start getting into any kinks like that–”
Jeongguk is quick to interject, waving his hands around before clapping them over his ears. “No! It’s not like that– well, maybe one day it could be, if I play my cards right, but. Anyway. Um, at the bar, I pretended I didn’t know him, cause it’s coming of age day, y’know? I’m celebrating adulthood. New year, new me?”
Yoongi’s dry expression persists. “Jeongguk-ah, it’s May,” he points out.
Jeongguk huffs. “You know what I mean.”
Yoongi, it seems, is unconcerned with arguing this one out, and then moves on to try and make sense of the ridiculous situation Jeongguk has started to explain to him. “So, you and Jimin are… role playing… and pretending to be strangers?” Jeongguk nods. “Why?”
Jeongguk opens his mouth and then promptly shuts it again. He’s not really sure the answer to that question other than the fact that he’s drunk, that he gravely misinterpreted Namjoon’s advice, and that it seemed like a good idea. So he replies, “I don’t know, actually. To get him to fall for me?”
Finally, Yoongi’s flat expression breaks, and he bursts into a smile that shows off his gums. His eyes drift over Jeongguk’s shoulder where Jeongguk knows Jimin is standing, and Jeongguk has to use every ounce of strength not to turn around and look with him. “I don’t really think you have to do that much.”
Jeongguk blushes. He doesn’t bother to argue with Yoongi, trading whatever weak comeback he had in mind in favor of burying his face in his hands and moaning, “Ugh, hyung. I love him.”
Yoongi reaches a hand across the table to ruffle Jeongguk’s hair fondly. “I know, kiddo.”
Jeongguk looks up with a pout, sighing again. The urge to turn and look at Jimin is only stronger now. “He bought me a drink and called me baby. Do you think I should profess my love? Or do those things not count because he was doing them while he was pretending he didn’t know me? Maybe they don’t count, but still. Baby. ”
Yoongi laughs, and under his breath, he murmurs, “You are so drunk.” Louder, he adds, “He always calls you baby.”
Jeongguk thinks it over. True. Jimin calls him all sorts of sweet names, but this one felt different. He lifts his head and moves further into Yoongi’s space, lowering his voice like he’s telling a scandalous secret. “But I’m of age now, so it’s sexy.”
Yoongi snorts. “Gguk, you’ve technically been of age since January–”
Someone had to do it, Jeongguk supposes. He should've expected it would be Yoongi. “He said I’m a pretty boy!” Jeongguk interrupts, whining.
Yoongi starts laughing in earnest now. “Might as well propose,” he says sarcastically.
Jeongguk’s eyes widen as he remembers the early moments of the night, when Taehyung and Seokjin were grilling him about flower arrangements and wedding invitations. “You know what?” he announces. “That’s a great idea. I forgot I was supposed to do that tonight.” He looks at his naked hands and pats down his pockets. Of course tonight would be the night he doesn’t put any jewelry on his fingers. Glancing at Yoongi, he asks, “Do you have a ring? It would be kinda cheap to propose without a ring.”
Yoongi’s mouth gapes. “Supposed to… Did you plan– Actually, I’m not asking,” he mutters in confusion. He snaps himself out of it with a shake of a head, most likely assuming that he will never get the answers to all the questions he might have. He eyes the Manhattan he’s been sipping and reaches for the cherry sitting atop the ice. He plucks the stem from the fruit and hands it over. “Here. Just make one.”
Jeongguk accepts the cherry stem graciously, eyes sparkling. “Yah, hyung, that’s so romantic of you.”
“What can I say?” Yoongi deadpans. “Maybe I just want you and Jiminie to get married.”
Jeongguk is about to agree for once, but right on cue, Taehyung interrupts again. He plops himself right into Yoongi’s lap and throws an arm over his shoulder. “Are we talking about marriage again? Jeongguk, did you show him the invitations you picked?”
Jeongguk looks nervously at Jimin, but he finds him completely distracted, laughing into Hoseok’s shoulder, squished between him and Namjoon. Quietly, he slurs, “I didn’t pick them.”
“Okay, yeah, you didn’t place an order, but you would pick this design if you were gonna.”
Seokjin must have overheard them, because he plucks Taehyung’s phone right out of his hands and opens his Pinterest board to show Yoongi. Yoongi must think this is all hysterical, because suddenly he’s laughing harder than he has all night.
Jeongguk just harrumphs, sticking his nose up. “I would never pick a wedding invitation without consulting my fiancé first, what kind of man do you make me out to be?”
Yoongi bursts into more laughter, tears teasing at the corners of his eyes. “Jeon Jeongguk, you’re so cute.”
“Shut up,” Jeongguk mumbles.
Taehyung moves from Yoongi’s lap to cling to Jeongguk from behind as soon as he sees him pouting, and in Jeongguk’s ear he coos, “Aw, don’t be sad, Jeongguk. You and Jimin will make a very cute couple. I’m sure he’ll love the invitations you picked.”
Jeongguk is not sure how much time passes as he sits uselessly in his chair, absently pondering their wedding. His hyungs continue to talk and laugh around him, Taehyung still draped over his shoulders. Jeongguk stays in place, sipping his drink, until he realizes that he’s wasting his time. He stands abruptly, shaking Taehyung loose.
“Where are you going?” asks Seokjin.
Jeongguk’s eyes fixate on Jimin who’s back at the bar, talking to Namjoon while he orders another drink. “To skip a few steps in the courting process!” Jeongguk replies, and all he hears is laughter behind him.
Even in his own drunken state, when Jeongguk reaches Jimin, he can tell Jimin is much drunker than when they talked before. Namjoon, who has now gotten his drink, just smiles before leaving them alone. Side by side, Jeongguk can’t help but press close to Jimin. He’s not sure a stranger would do this – or maybe they would, if they were flirting the way Jeongguk wants to – but he does it anyway. It’s a habit, to be touching Jimin, to be tucked against his side. Wrapping an arm gently around Jimin’s waist, he looks down at his hyung’s pretty eyes, shiny and blue from his colored lenses.
Jeongguk might be a little emboldened, but the first words he says are nothing but the truth. “I haven’t seen enough of you tonight,” he murmurs. With his hand now brushing the bit of skin where Jimin’s shirt has come untucked, Jeongguk feels like time has stopped. For the entirety of the night, Jeongguk has been pulled in every direction, so drunk and distracted that he hadn’t noticed how quickly the evening was slipping past him. Part of pretending not to know each other meant that it was much harder for Jeongguk to come find an excuse to be by Jimin’s side. Here, touching again, Jeongguk realizes how much he missed him tonight. Maybe he did himself a little dirty, dreaming up a scenario that would make it harder to get close to Jimin than easier.
He brushes his fingers along the smooth skin of Jimin’s sharp hip bone, and when he looks at him, he can’t help but smile. He doesn’t care that it might make his flirting a little less sexy – when he sees Jimin, he wants to smile. “Is it my turn to buy a pretty boy a drink at the bar?”
He licks his lips, and unexpectedly, Jimin blushes a little bit. “Am I that boy?” he asks, lowering his eyelids.
Jeongguk squeezes Jimin’s hip. “Obviously, Jimin-ssi. It would be stupid to call other people beautiful while you’re here.”
Jimin lets out quiet laughter, but his blush contradicts him. Jeongguk only sort of picks up on this, his drunken mind more focused on the fact that Jimin is laughing at all, rather than what’s causing it.
“Aish, Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin mumbles, hanging his head for a second. “You’re too much.”
Jeongguk ignores him in favor of pressing their bodies closer together, and he persists. “So what do you want?”
“Something gives me the feeling that I’m your hyung. Aren’t I, baby?” Jimin murmurs, still playing into their roles. He reaches up to touch along Jeongguk’s jaw, just briefly. “It wouldn’t be right for you to buy me a drink on your coming of age.”
“But I want to,” Jeongguk insists.
Jimin lifts his glass from where it was resting on the bartop. It sloshes around, still half-full. “Maybe when I finish this one.” He takes a sip and sets it down, but when he looks up at Jeongguk again, his eyes are a little darker. “You’re certainly pretty good at charming a stranger, baby. Are you trying to take me home?”
He flutters his eyelashes subtly, and Jeongguk has to stop himself from spluttering. Instead he holds Jimin’s gaze and is reminded of the places where they’re touching. He pushes his fingers further beneath Jimin’s t-shirt, wandering some of the flat planes of his belly, the toned curve of his oblique. He swears he feels Jimin shiver, but he can’t be sure. All he can do is choke out, “Well– I. Let me buy you a drink first.”
Jimin turns to face him, and the same hand that had brushed Jeongguk’s jaw before now wraps around the back of his neck, playing with the loose curls there. The tension between them is so palpable that Jeongguk feels like even the softest exhale might break it. With a gentle tug to the nape of Jeongguk’s neck, Jimin pulls Jeongguk closer, so that their foreheads are nearly touching. Like this, Jeongguk’s view should be compromised, but instead it feels like he can see everything that matters. There are beautiful shadows dancing across Jimin’s cheekbones. His pupils are blown wide, and his bottom lip is so plush and pink that all Jeongguk can think of is what it would be like to taste him. He watches Jimin lick across them, and for a second, Jeongguk is sure that Jimin is going to kiss him. The only thing stopping his heart from catching in his throat is the alcohol doing sprints through his veins.
But Jimin doesn’t kiss him at all. Instead he stays coy, just like a flirtatious stranger at a bar would. “Mm,” he hums. “You’re pretty convincing, Jeongguk-ah.”
Jeongguk falters for a second. If he acts on pure desire, he would have Jimin pushed up against the bar in an instant. But he can’t do that, he won’t let himself, even in this drunken state. His walls go back up a little, and he decides to make another joke. He never expects Jimin to roll with it.
Ignoring the tightness in his throat brought on by Jimin so close to him, he just mumbles, “‘M an adult. I’m so old now, you should be calling me hyung.”
Jimin’s eyes widen, but then he makes his expression look a little ashamed. He tugs on one tendril of Jeongguk’s hair and leans back a little. Pouting, he says sweetly, “Oh, should I? How disrespectful of me. Sorry, Jeonggukie-hyung, you’re right.”
Something hot shoots down Jeongguk’s chest to his lower belly as soon as he registers Jimin’s words, but before he can process, let alone think of a response, Hoseok – extremely drunk – is quite literally pulling Jimin and Jeongguk’s bodies apart so they can go take a shot. It doesn’t even seem like Hoseok noticed the way they were standing or how their hands were placed. With a shot glass in hand a few moments later, Jeongguk starts to feel a little grateful that Hoseok interrupted them. Noticing how tight his pants feel and recognizing the heat that’s crept up his cheeks and down his chest, he realizes that he’s not so sure what he would’ve said to Jimin, anyway.
The two of them stay close for the rest of the night, but only in proximity. Any words exchanged between them are ones shared with the rest of their friends, but the next hour or so is a blur of wandering hands. Jeongguk can’t seem to stop touching Jimin, and his palms find their way to Jimin’s shoulders to his waist to the nape of his neck. Their sides stay flush together like their bodies are doing the talking for them.
Jeongguk starts to feel a little more hazy after that last shot, and while he doesn’t feel sick, he graciously sips on the glass of water that was shoved into his hands by Yoongi instead of opting for another beer. As his fingers slide beneath Jimin’s shirt again to get at his soft skin, he starts to notice the way Jimin touches him back so subconsciously. At least, it feels subconscious. Jimin’s touch comes by way of his laughter, when he falls over and buries his face in Jeongguk’s neck. His touch comes when Jeongguk says something ridiculous, and Jimin slaps both hands to Jeongguk’s chest. His hands always linger during moments like those, sliding over Jeongguk’s pecs above the silky material of his shirt. His touch comes when he’s talking to someone else, fiddling with the hairs at the back of Jeongguk’s neck as he replies animatedly to whatever Taehyung or Namjoon is talking about.
A couple of times, Jeongguk thinks about pulling him aside and starting up their bit again. He wonders if he should say something silly and sultry, like, “Can I really take you home?” or, “Jimin-ssi, I’ve never felt like this for a stranger before. I want to get to know you.” But a few things stand in his way. It’s namely the fuzzy periphery of his vision and the way his thoughts roll by like clouds muddled from the alcohol, but it’s also his friends. In their company, he feels a little too shy to play these games with Jimin, knowing that his hyungs will never miss another opportunity to tease him. The more he zones out, the more worried he gets when he thinks about it. He starts to wonder if Jimin is just playing along. Jimin is good like that. He’ll always roll with Jeongguk’s punches.
Jeongguk thought the tension he’d felt between them by the bar was undeniable, but for all Jeongguk knows, that could have just been Jimin indulging him. What if he was just flirting for fun? Jimin’s like that. He’s always been a good flirt. Jeongguk’s mind goes in circles like this until Jimin is laughing into his neck again, and just like that, his touch chases away all doubt. It’s hard to be focused on the what ifs when Jeongguk has something so close to the real thing clinging next to him. In his head, he keeps up the act. It’s too fun not to.
Jeongguk might be drunk, but when the bar finally starts emptying out, he can tell his hyungs are tired. They’re drunk, too, but definitely sleepy. Hoseok is now passed out in one of the chairs, leaning against Namjoon’s side. Taehyung is absolutely shitfaced, and squished between Seokjin and Yoongi, he looks like he’s having the time of his life. There’s been some talk about going to get fried chicken for the past twenty minutes, but no one really seems that committed to the idea. Chicken, admittedly, sounds great, but Jeongguk’s not that worried. He can find a snack elsewhere.
Namjoon pulls the plug first. Pointing a finger at Hoseok, he announces, “I’m gonna take this one home.” He glances over at Yoongi, his roommate. “Hyung, are you coming?”
Taehyung and Yoongi seem to have a very fast but very intense staring contest wherein they communicate with some weird, homoerotic telepathy, and eventually Yoongi replies, “Yeah, I’m beat.”
Under his breath, Taehyung mutters, “Boring,” and then, as expected, clings to Seokjin’s side.
Yoongi scowls, but when Seokjin says, “Boring,” as well, he sighs. Yoongi has always been no match for Seokjin. One quick Yoongi-yah, and Yoongi comes running.
“What, do you want me to come?” Yoongi asks seriously. “I will, if you really want me to.”
Seokjin just smiles and waves him off, pinching Taehyung’s side subtly as he wraps an arm around him. “We’re joking, Yoongichi. Go get some sleep, you need it.”
Yoongi smiles softly, and it quite nearly makes Jeongguk blush just from watching. Attention is shifted to him far too soon for his liking.
“Jeongguk-ah,” Taehyung slurs. “You aren’t going back to that shit hole of a dorm, are you?”
Jeongguk pouts, jabbing a finger towards Taehyung’s chest and stumbling forward as he does it. “Yah,” he mumbles, “it’s not… s’not a shit hole. I have nice posters. And a lot of pillows.”
Taehyung laughs. “Either way, you should go home with one of us. You’re fucked up.”
Jeongguk huffs. He tries to stand up straighter, he just ends up leaning on the body next to his. “M’fine,” he insists.
Taehyung waves his hands around emphatically. “Being fucked up is a good thing, Jeongguk-ah! Embrace it.”
Jeongguk thinks it over for all of two seconds. “Fine, then m’fucked up,” he says. “Dunno where I’m sleeping though. I don’t really care.” His eyes flutter shut, and realizing just how tired being drunk has made him, he puts more of his weight against Jimin, chasing his warmth. His eyes snap open when he realizes exactly who it is next to him, and somehow he remembers that he never properly asked the pretty stranger at the bar to come home with him.
He spins so they’re facing each other, and he braces his hands on Jimin’s waist to avoid falling over. “Wait!” he blurts. “Jimin-ah, will I ever see you again?”
Unbeknownst to him, all of his hyungs aside from Yoongi share an extremely confused look.
Jimin is pretty drunk himself now, so he giggles. He reaches a hand up to pet Jeongguk’s neck. Amazingly, he’s still in character. “You can if you want to,” he replies coyly. “Do you want my phone number? Wanna come ho–”
Jeongguk cuts him off, mumbling, “Wait, wait. Actually, I can’t risk it. I need to see you again.”
“Jeongguk–” Jimin tries, but Jeongguk doesn’t let him get any further than that. He fumbles around in the pocket of his tight jeans for the cherry stem ring he’d made before. When he finally fishes it out, he holds it up over his head triumphantly. Yoongi starts laughing hysterically, but the rest of the hyungs just look on as if Jimin and Jeongguk are some strange spectacle to behold. If Jeongguk was a little more self-aware at the moment, he’d probably agree.
Seokjin squints at them, and when he realizes that what Jeongguk is holding up is actually some poor excuse for a ring, he says, “ Yahh, wait. Is he really proposing?”
Excitedly, Taehyung mutters, “Babe, I think he is.”
Squeezing Jimin’s waist, Jeongguk takes a deep breath. “I would get down on one knee, but… at this point… I’m afraid I won’t be able to stand back up if I do.”
Jimin giggles again, and Jeongguk takes his hand.
“Jimin-ssi,” Jeongguk rumbles, and then he’s starting his proposal. “I know we just met, but I think I’m in love with you. Like, you might actually be the love of my life. You are so pretty, and umm, when you laugh your eyes look like little moons. And, uh, your butt looks really good in those jeans. So– yeah. I know we don’t know each other, but–will you marry me?”
He hears Jimin’s laughter one more time, and that’s the last thing he remembers of the night.