Work Text:
Suddenly, the buttons on his shirt felt like they were choking him, so he carefully tugged at them and unbuttoned the first few, revealing part of his chest. He picked up his drink, brought it to his lips, and started drinking as much as he could before he began coughing.
Just an hour ago, he had been collecting money from a couple who had taken out a loan. They needed the money because the wife began having health problems, and they had to turn to his boss, who took pity on them and lent them a generous amount so they could pay for the treatment. But that was some time ago, and the couple had to spend all their monthly income paying the debt. Still, it was hard to make ends meet, and in the end, they hadn’t been able to pay the full interest for the past five months. He had visited them four times before, but today was the only day he didn’t leave empty-handed.
After doing that kind of work for so long, Jungkook stopped caring about the “clients’” situations. As long as his boss got his money back.
It was barely 7 pm, so only a few tables in the bar were occupied. The music played softly, almost drowned out by the murmur of conversation. It was an old bar, worn but not ugly. The interior was painted in deep wine and black tones, with white brick walls adorned with decorations from the '80s and '90s. It was mostly frequented by the town’s elderly and by members of his gang. After all, their boss had invested a good amount of money into the place, so they enjoyed certain privileges.
He could feel the bartender’s eyes on him, so he took the opportunity to order another drink. It was unusual for him to be at the bar so early and alone. Normally, gang members came to drink after a meeting or once they had finished a job, usually past midnight. But today he had worked alone and was more tired than usual.
After all, work is work, and he had gotten himself involved in it willingly.
Before the bartender could hand him his drink, he got up from the stool, pulled a bill from his pocket to leave it on the counter, and without looking at the man, walked out of the bar.
𖹭
Winter was cold, and he felt it even more after the warmth the alcohol had given him inside. He cursed himself as he tried to mentally trace back where he had left his jacket. His long-sleeved shirt didn’t protect him from the wind, and he hadn’t bothered to button it up at the top either. He rubbed his hands together in an attempt to fight the cold, but it was useless. He could even feel the piercing on his lip turn cold. He decided to ignore that sensation and started walking through the chilly streets, which were far too dark for it to be just eight o'clock.
He thought about what he could have for dinner. The nearest convenience store was in the opposite direction from where he was heading, and he was too lazy to turn around, go back, and then return to his original path. So, he kept walking until he reached the town’s main park. It was Sunday, which meant there were plenty of street food stands and vendors, mostly catering to the tourists visiting the town. He figured he could find something good there.
He walked through the park without going too deep, just following the path that would lead him to the exit, scanning for a food stall that wasn’t too crowded and that sold something he liked.
That’s how he ended up approaching a noodle stand near the park’s exit. It might have been the most basic option, but he was hungry, and the alcohol had left a bad taste in his mouth. He remembered his boss once telling him that if a food stall was empty, it wasn’t worth it, but as usual, he ignored his words.
As he got closer, he saw only one customer sitting there: a man he had never seen before. Young, handsome, broad-shouldered, dressed casually, looking far too focused and happy for someone eating plain noodles that were almost gone. Jungkook hesitated for a moment but was too tired and hungry, so he walked to the stall and sat at the opposite end, far from the man.
After ordering a serving of noodles to go, he gave the stranger a quick glance and then turned to ignore him while he waited. The night air chilled his skin, but he found some comfort in the warmth coming from the small stove at the stand.
He watched the elderly woman running the stall begin to prepare his order, and the pleasant smell of food only made his stomach growl louder. Had he been sitting closer to the man, the sound would’ve definitely been heard. Without thinking much about it, he glanced at the stranger again. The man kept eating, successfully ignoring Jungkook’s presence just a few stools away.
He observed him closely. He was wearing a gray sweater and blue jeans that looked extremely comfortable. Next to him was a small bag adorned with keychains and dangling decorations. Jungkook thought it was a bit much but didn’t dare to judge him. The man was definitely attractive; you didn’t need to be a genius to notice that.
He wondered if the guy was new in town,Jungkook was good at remembering faces, and it would be hard to forget him. He started to feel a little embarrassed for staring, so he forced himself to focus on his order.
“Hi”.
Jungkook could swear his ears almost flew off his head. He slowly turned and saw the man looking at him with a small smile on his face.
With a neutral look, Jungkook nodded in response. A gesture that could easily be mistaken for rudeness. He couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, certain the man had noticed him staring. How awkward.
The stranger’s smile grew a little wider, and Jungkook had no idea what to do or say. It wasn’t like him to be left speechless, but using his exhaustion and the alcohol as an excuse, he allowed himself to act awkwardly and apologized to the man in his head.
“People usually buy their food from that stall over there”, the man whispered, maybe trying not to be heard by the woman cooking. He shot Jungkook a brief glance. “But this one’s better. It’s like... homemade”.
Jungkook nodded to let him know he’d heard but also to show disinterest, hoping the man would get the hint that he didn’t really want to talk. However, the guy kept smiling, more than before. Jungkook looked away and focused on patiently waiting for his order so he could leave.
He ignored him for the next minute. He didn’t enjoy acting hostile, but he also didn’t like talking to strangers, and this guy was starting to make him uneasy with how comfortable he seemed. Still, he couldn’t really blame him. Besides, he was still embarrassed for being caught staring.
“Hey”.
He heard his voice again. Because of the casual tone, Jungkook turned to him, raising an eyebrow as he replied with the same tone, “What?”
Even though it wasn’t his intention, his voice came out drier than expected. He regretted it for a second, but the guy was still smiling.
“Your shirt is torn”, the man said, glancing away to hide a small laugh. Jungkook frowned. “Is that a new fashion trend?”
“What?” he repeated, almost startled, searching for the tear until he found it on the sleeve, between his bicep and shoulder. Now he felt even more embarrassed.
At least he had figured out why he was feeling colder.
Even though he tried to hide it, it was obvious the guy was laughing as he rummaged through his bag. This might not have been Jungkook’s most embarrassing moment, but it was probably the most entertaining one for this guy. He even seemed to have forgotten about his dinner.
“Put this on, or you’ll be uncomfortable in the cold”, the man said, his expression now softer, maybe even sympathetic, as he held out two band-aids.
Jungkook stared in disbelief at the two strips between the man's fingers. They were clearly attention-grabbing: decorated with cartoon stars and multicolored backgrounds, probably themed after some video game.
“The shirt’s torn, I’m not hurt”, he said with a frown.
“Use them to hold it together”, the man replied, as if it were the most logical thing in the world.
Jungkook wasn’t sure if he was being mocked, but he don't know how to respond either.
In silence, he extended his hand toward the man, who smiled, understanding, and placed both band-aids in his palm. He was about to say something when the woman at the stall, seemingly unaware of what was happening, announced that his order was ready.
Finally, Jungkook thought.
He got up from the stool, the band-aids in one hand, pulling out his wallet with the other. Beside him, he saw the man doing the same, helping the woman gather his empty dishes and thanking her for the food.
Holding his takeout order in a bag, he was ready to head home after paying, but he stood still, still looking at the band-aids he had been given.
“Want help with that?”
The guy was probably teasing him. Jungkook tried to search his memory for the man’s face, wondering if they had met before, which would explain his familiarity, but he found nothing. Maybe he was just really friendly.
Jungkook figured he could play along. Just this once.
“Fine”, he said shortly, moving closer to return the strips.
“I’m a pro at this, don’t worry”, the man replied with a smile, winking.
Holding the band-aids, he stepped closer, close enough that Jungkook could feel his presence. Jungkook extended his arm, and the man took it gently, so gently that Jungkook barely felt it, then started sticking the band-aids one by one to hold the torn sleeve together.
It was obvious the man was having fun, and all Jungkook could think about was how ridiculous the situation was. He also thought about his food getting cold.
“All done”. They both looked at the handiwork. A second later, the man burst into laughter and stepped back. “It looks silly, but it’s better than being ripped. Your arm won’t be cold anymore”.
Jungkook was about to thank him sarcastically, but he got interrupted.
“And you don’t even have a jacket. How could you come out in this weather without one?”
“Are you scolding me?” Jungkook raised a brow, genuinely amused and confused.
“Of course I am! Look around", he gestured. “Everyone’s bundled up, and you have your buttons undone".
Jungkook decided to ignore the fact that he had even noticed that detail and started walking slowly away from the stand as he replied.
“Then I should leave before I get even colder".
The man, who was also ready to go, smiled and shrugged. The slight hint of disappointment in his expression didn’t go unnoticed.
“You should, or your dinner will get cold".
Nodding in farewell, they both started walking in the same direction. Jungkook could only hope the guy wouldn’t follow the same path or that he had a car waiting to take him somewhere else.
But as expected, after leaving the park, the man, walking a few steps ahead of him, headed toward the same street where Jungkook lived.
It was one of the most remote areas of the town: a small neighborhood made up of a long main road divided by intersections and surrounded by trees. Once you entered, you’d find small vacant houses or some goshiwon for rent, and at the end of the road was part of the lake.
It was technically a safe area, but one of the least favored due to its inactivity. Most houses were only used during vacations, and many people preferred to rent small apartments closer to the center. Even Jungkook didn’t spend much time there.
“You live around here?” Jungkook finally asked, realizing his earlier farewell had been pointless.
The man, looking a little surprised to hear him speak, turned and nodded.
“I moved in a few weeks ago. I’m renting one of the houses near the lake".
Jungkook nodded back and kept walking.
A few steps later, they were walking side by side. He didn’t know whether he had sped up or if the man had slowed down to match his pace. But neither moved away.
It was the first time Jungkook lost track of time like this. He was usually very aware of his surroundings because of the kind of tasks he was assigned and could easily estimate how much time had passed. But now, he couldn’t tell how long it had been since he left the bar.
All he could hear were insects and the jingling of the man’s keychains. The few working streetlamps lit the path, along with the moon. Jungkook still felt nervous around the man. He didn’t know him, yet here they were, walking together like old friends.
He don't know whether he should be afraid of that man, or that man of him.
He suddenly remembered the legends his boss used to tell when they were bored. He glanced at the man and wondered if he was a ghost that would drag him into the lake, like in those stories. He was handsome, young, seemingly kind, and Jungkook still hadn’t walked away. He could easily be a victim of some kind of spirit.
“So, you live by the lake. Isn’t that scary?” Jungkook decided to break the silence again.
The man let out a quiet laugh. A low, clear sound in the stillness of the night.
“Of course not!” he said with a smile. Jungkook wasn’t sure if he meant it. “I like the house, and everything is so peaceful".
“I guess you’ve heard the town’s stories. That’s brave", Jungkook said ironically.
“Ah, don’t even mention it. I keep hearing them at work".
“And what do you think?”
“I think that if I meet a mermaid, she’ll fall in love with me".
Jungkook stopped for a second, surprised by the man’s confidence, then burst out laughing.
“You’re that sure of your charm?” he asked, amused, tilting his head toward him.
The man shrugged, speaking with fake modesty. “It’s not my fault I have that effect on people".
He smiled, and there was something in his expression and tone that made Jungkook want to stop and take a better look. He couldn’t ignore how the man’s ears turned red, visible even in the dim light, his eyes sparkled with amusement and a touch of shyness. It was clear this might be the first time he’d been this bold with someone.
He was still a mystery to Jungkook, and Jungkook hated mysteries, but he was definitely starting to like him.
“Well, if a mermaid decides to drag you into the lake, I hope she at least gives you a warning", Jungkook said playfully, pretending to sound serious.
“So, what would you do if you met one?”
Jungkook tilted his head thoughtfully. “Depends on the mermaid", he answered enigmatically.
They glanced at each other with smiles as they kept walking. There was something strange about this sudden interaction, something he didn’t fully understand, but didn’t entirely mind either. Maybe it was the night, the silence of the road, or the way the dim lights cast long shadows on the ground.
“We’ve been talking for a while, and I still haven’t introduced myself", the stranger said, looking at him with a kind smile. “I’m Seokjin".
Jungkook blinked. He hadn’t thought about introductions. He extended his hand without saying his name, and Seokjin didn’t ask.
They shook hands like colleagues and kept walking.
Now with a little less distance between them.
They continued walking in silence, and for the first time, Jungkook noticed small details about the street: the flickering streetlamp, the house numbers, the moon’s reflection in a puddle, and how unfamiliar he still was with the place despite living there for some time.
They passed a house lined with potted plants, their shadows stretching out like dark hands. Seokjin gently kicked a fallen twig off the path, letting it roll to the side. Jungkook watched him, amused, and Seokjin shrugged. “It’s a habit of someone who walks around a lot at night".
“You walk a lot at night?” Jungkook repeated, tilting his head.
“Yes", Seokjin replied, still smiling. “Sometimes I get off work late".
Jungkook raised an eyebrow, surprised at how easy it was to talk to him and how naturally he seemed to open up. He decided not to ask more about the man’s life, but Seokjin seemed eager to keep the conversation going.
From there, it flowed effortlessly: Seokjin gave him clever tips on how to make ramen more creatively, and Jungkook responded with casual comments while listening attentively.
After a while, Seokjin stopped at a corner and looked at Jungkook with a smile.
“Well, my house is that way", he said, pointing toward the spot. For a brief moment, there seemed to be a flicker of disappointment in his eyes again.
Looking around, Jungkook realized he had passed his own house several blocks ago. With a tight smile and feigned indifference, he nodded.
“I live over there", he said, vaguely pointing toward nothing, hoping Seokjin wouldn’t notice how distracted he had been by their conversation.
Smiling, Seokjin gave a small bow after exchanging goodbyes and began to walk away.
Jungkook turned back and sighed. Now he had to walk back several blocks to reach his house.
By the time he got home, the noodles were already cold.
𖹭
Seokjin was losing it.
It had been a week since his encounter with the man in the torn shirt, and he was still thinking about it.
He didn’t know where he had gotten the confidence to speak to him in the first place and mentally scolded himself every time he remembered he had vaguely shown the man where he lived. To a complete stranger.
A stranger who looked like a gangster.
Seokjin isn’t someone who judges others by appearances, of course not. In fact, when he thought back to the man, his first impression was that he seemed cool. He’d noticed his piercing and was pretty sure the guy had tattoos too. Still, he was new in town, and the older ladies at work had warned him to be careful who he talked to.
Apparently, it was an open secret that there were gangs in the town. Violent crime was rare, but it was common for people to fall into loan shark traps or for young men to want to join these groups.
Oddly enough, they had also told him it wasn’t easy to just run into one of these people randomly. Which is exactly why Seokjin kept thinking about the man.
The few weeks Seokjin had been in town were enough for him to realize this was a painfully typical place, mostly filled with older folks or people who fit the small-town mold. So that man had caught his attention. Long, slightly messy hair, a silver lip ring, and a shirt that looked expensive but was torn. More than anything, he was handsome.
Not that that was the only reason he noticed him (it was a deciding factor, but not the main one). It was the way he looked around with irritation and yet seemed fascinated by everything he saw, including Seokjin. It was the way he tried to hide his expressions but failed each time. The way he had kept the conversation going when Seokjin made the first move. And the fact that he was the only person who hadn’t looked at him with pity or distaste in a long time.
The man had looked almost comically startled when Seokjin spoke to him and Seokjin had been captivated by that.
He'd caught the man’s gaze and started to watch him discreetly until he got the nerve to say something. Because just staring had started to feel strange.
It was nice.
It had been a long time since he had spoken to someone so cheerfully, and even longer since someone had made him feel truly listened to. Just a few minutes but it had been a long time since he hadn’t felt so alone.
But he hadn’t seen the man again since that night.
Not that he expected to (and definitely not because he had been going to the same noodle stand all week just in case he showed up again). He was focused on work, and as much as he would’ve liked to make a new friend, he was content with how things were.
It had been a month since he’d started working at the town’s public hospital, and it was a complete change from his previous job. The building was small, his coworkers were all older than him, but they were kind. His new boss was decent, and there weren’t that many patients. Everything was calm.
Very calm, actually. He worked weekdays from morning to night, and most cases were fevers or mild aches. He had quickly adjusted to his new routine: wake up, go to the hospital, eat during breaks, tend to patients, go home. It was solitary, but he could get used to it.
It was Friday, and he had just finished his shift. He said goodbye to his coworkers, and just as he was stepping out through the hospital’s old main entrance.
He saw him again.
The man was there.
Standing, leaning against one of the building’s walls next to the small garden by the entrance, holding an unlit cigarette in his hand, wearing the same expression as the first time: a mix of discomfort and curiosity, like he didn’t belong but was still analyzing everything around him.
He was dressed differently this time, more casual: a short-sleeved black shirt that showed his tattoos, and matching black pants.
Seokjin stopped without realizing it. He felt his heart skip in a way he hadn’t expected and for a second, he felt excited. He hesitated about whether to approach. He didn’t want to seem too eager, but he couldn’t just walk the other way as if he hadn’t seen him.
“You…?” was all he managed to say when he finally stepped closer, his voice softer than he meant.
The man looked at him, visibly surprised, and then gave a small, crooked smile, letting out a short sigh. It wasn’t a big or bright smile, but a small one, barely noticeable, that made Seokjin’s stomach tighten.
“Seokjin", he said, nodding in greeting.
Seokjin let out a small laugh. The man was looking at him the same way as before: without judgment, without pity. He just saw him.
“Oh? You remember my name?” Seokjin asked, genuinely surprised.
The man just shrugged and pulled a cigarette pack from his pocket. Since he didn’t respond, Seokjin continued:
“I didn’t expect to see you here", he said, trying to sound casual, though he knew he was failing.
He really hadn’t expected to see him at all.
“Came to drop something off. Nothing important", the man replied, putting the cigarette back in the pack. “What about you? What are you doing here?”
“I work here".
“At the hospital? Are you a doctor?” he asked, showing genuine interest. Seokjin was surprised by how animated he sounded.
“Yes! I’m in the—” He didn’t finish because he got interrupted.
“How old are you?”
“Sorry?”
“How old are you?” he repeated.
“Thirty-two?” Seokjin answered with a small smile, tilting his head. “Why?”
The man frowned slightly, more out of confusion than anything else. “You look younger".
Seokjin chuckled softly. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But don’t be so shocked. How old are you?”
“Twenty-seven", he replied, still frowning a little. “I thought we were the same age, or close".
“You talk like that’s a big gap". Seokjin pretended to be offended, placing a hand on his chest. “Is it the band-aids with cartoons? Because those are art, not age".
The man let out a soft laugh, the kind you barely hear, but that softened his features. He was amused, even if he wouldn’t admit it.
“You didn’t tell me your name", Seokjin said.
The man hesitated before answering. “Jungkook".
He said it without looking away, like he was waiting for a specific reaction. Seokjin, however, simply smiled, like he was tasting the name in his mind before repeating it in a whisper:
“Jungkook".
There was a brief silence that didn’t feel awkward, more like expectant. Seokjin glanced toward the street, then back at the man in front of him.
“Have you eaten?” he asked casually, though the spark in his eyes was hard to hide.
Jungkook shook his head slowly. “No".
“Wanna grab something to eat? I found a place not far from here. Nothing fancy, but the food’s good. Unless you’d rather stay here holding your cigarette…”
Jungkook looked at him for a few seconds, like he was weighing whether this was a good idea. Finally, he gave a small nod.
“Let’s go".
The place was small, with worn wooden tables and the smell of fresh soup. Seokjin sat first, picking a table by the window, and waited for Jungkook to sit across from him.
The contrast between them was obvious. Jungkook stayed quiet, arms crossed on the table, eyes alert to every movement in the room. Seokjin, on the other hand, spoke easily, as if picking up an old conversation.
Jungkook found it curious. Seokjin was new in town but had probably adapted more than he had.
“Fair warning: they don’t cook fast. This place takes patience. But it’s worth it".
Jungkook nodded slightly.
Seokjin watched him for a few seconds, resting his chin in his hand.
“Are you always this quiet, or are you just uncomfortable?”
“I prefer listening".
“That sounds like a fancy excuse to avoid talking".
Jungkook gave a faint smile, barely there.
“And do you always talk this much?”
Seokjin shrugged.
“Someone has to fill the silence".
They ordered food, and while they waited, Seokjin asked lighter questions: what kind of music Jungkook liked, whether he was born in the town, if he had siblings. Jungkook answered briefly but honestly. Sometimes he looked at Seokjin with mild surprise, like he wasn’t used to someone being so… direct.
When the food arrived, Seokjin leaned in toward the plate, exclaiming with enthusiasm:
“Told you it was worth it. Try this".
Jungkook obeyed without a word, and to Seokjin’s surprise, after a few seconds, he muttered, “It’s good".
“Knew it! Man of few words but good taste".
Jungkook shook his head but smiled again, a little wider this time. And though he didn’t say it out loud, something in his expression shifted.
Like he didn’t regret accepting the invitation to eat.
When they finished eating, Seokjin leaned back in his chair with satisfaction, arms crossed over his chest.
“See? Told you you wouldn’t regret it".
Jungkook nodded, still chewing his last bite.
“You were right".
Seokjin raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Was that a compliment? Because if it was, you’ve already won me over".
Jungkook didn’t reply right away. He paid for both meals without saying anything, a gesture that surprised Seokjin and then, as they stepped out of the restaurant, he asked, just as calmly:
“Are you going home now?”
Seokjin paused, eyeing him with a mix of suspicion and playful curiosity.
“Is that an invitation or a schedule check?”
“An invitation", Jungkook said. “There’s a place not far from here I think you haven’t seen yet".
Seokjin nodded without thinking much.
“Lead the way".
The place turned out to be an old park, half-hidden between residential streets, near the lake road. There weren’t many people, just a few streetlights lit and the distant sound of a dog barking. In the center, there was a dry fountain and some stone benches that were no longer entirely stable.
Jungkook sat on one of them, stretching out his legs, while Seokjin walked around a little, looking at the trees.
“I thought you were taking me to a bar or something", he said, chuckling softly. “You know, something like that".
Jungkook tilted his head to look at him.
“I’m not that predictable". And he definitely wasn’t taking him to the old bar.
“So what do you do here when you come alone? Meditate?”
Jungkook shrugged. “Nothing".
Seokjin watched him in silence for a moment, then went to sit beside him, leaving a bit of space between them.
“If you don’t want to tell me, then don’t". He pretended to be offended.
Jungkook glanced at him, and for a moment he seemed to be weighing whether to speak or not.
“I really don’t do anything", he shrugged again. “I leave the town a lot, and when I come back I come here, sit on a bench, then go home".
Seokjin looked at him, this time without jokes or teasing.
“Do you travel a lot? Is it for work?”
Jungkook tensed.
“Yes".
Seokjin looked at him with interest. “Oh, I guess you just got back".
“I did this morning. Stopped by the hospital and then planned to come here. Thanks for dinner, by the way".
“But you paid for everything…”
“Then next time you can pay".
Seokjin smiled.
“Next time I’ll cook something".
The night grew quieter. Neither of them spoke for a while, but it wasn’t necessary. The cool air, the dim park lights, and the unexpected company seemed enough. And even if they didn’t say it out loud, they both knew something had changed in that short encounter.
Jungkook was afraid.
𖹭
Since that day, their encounters became sporadic but inevitable. Sometimes weeks would pass without seeing each other due to Jungkook’s sudden and suspicious trips, and other times they would run into each other on the street, at the park, or at the same noodle stand. Seokjin kept his promise to cook for him and invited him over for dinner, something they both quietly wished would become a routine.
Seokjin always seemed to have something to say; he liked to tease Jungkook, hoping he wouldn’t take him too seriously.
And Jungkook… Jungkook simply didn’t know what to do with that.
Every time he saw him, something stirred inside. It wasn’t something violent, like the errands he had to run for the gang. It wasn’t confusion. It was more like a gentle discomfort, a mild sting lodged in his chest that he tried to ignore but that came back stronger each time.
And yet, he never talked about his work. He never told Seokjin what he really did. There was something sacred in the way Seokjin looked at him. Without fear, without doubt. And he didn’t want to ruin that.
On the other hand, he had also noticed that Seokjin didn’t talk much about his past. Jungkook had seen how his shoulders would tense up sometimes when someone looked at him too long or when he received an unexpected call. Seokjin talked a lot, but never about himself. In the end, they were a little alike.
Jungkook would glance at him, lacking the courage Seokjin had to ask questions. When the subject of his life before moving to the town came up, Seokjin would just smile sadly and change the topic, so Jungkook let it go. It felt unfair to push, especially when he was the one hiding more.
There were nights when Jungkook would come back from a job with his clothes smelling faintly of gasoline and his soul more hollow than usual. On those nights, he would find himself wandering aimlessly until he stood in front of Seokjin’s house, not knowing why.
He had stopped going to the bar, and instead, he went to Seokjin’s house. That felt worse. He felt selfish.
One time, Seokjin caught him on the porch. It was almost two in the morning.
“Everything okay?” he asked softly, wrapped in a blanket.
“I wanted to know if the sirens had conquered you yet", Jungkook said dryly, but there was something shaky in his voice he couldn’t hide with the smile he gave.
Seokjin didn’t ask anything else. He just opened the door and let him in. They spent the night in silence, sharing leftovers from the kitchen. Jungkook didn’t say anything about his work. Seokjin didn’t say anything else. But the silence wasn’t uncomfortable.
It was a tacit pact. We’re here for now, and that’s enough.
From Seokjin’s point of view, Jungkook was like a safe box with a thousand layers. But that didn’t push him away, instead, it kept him intrigued. There was a latent sadness in Jungkook, a shadow that haunted him, and Seokjin wanted to understand it. He wanted to be part of his relief, even if just as a friend.
Jungkook, on the other hand, kept telling himself he couldn’t afford to feel anything for someone like Seokjin. He was light. Jungkook was a shadow that collected debts and left warnings etched into bones. He couldn’t have something so clean in his life without staining it.
Sometimes he looked at him and thought Seokjin was like a star, a supernova: beautiful, brilliant, impossible to ignore… and too fleeting for someone like him. Something meant to burn bright and disappear before he could even touch it.
But he couldn’t help it. There was something in the way Seokjin furrowed his brow when he concentrated, in the calmness of his voice when he spoke about little things, in the warmth he left behind when he passed close. Jungkook didn’t know when he started looking for him with his eyes, or when his presence became a comfort. He just knew he did.
And with that came fear, fear of getting close and dragging him into his darkness. Fear of getting used to him. Fear of needing him.
Because if he needed him and then lost him, what would be left of him? Life is unpredictable, while death is all too certain.
But every time Seokjin laughed, every time he looked at him, Jungkook was tempted to stay. And for a second, just one, he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to surrender.
One night, after one of his long absences, Jungkook appeared in front of the hospital just as Seokjin was leaving. He had a small cut on his eyebrow and his arm wrapped in a makeshift bandage.
“What happened to you?” Seokjin asked, alarmed, immediately moving closer.
“Do you have colorful band-aids?” Jungkook replied with a half-smile, avoiding the question.
Seokjin didn’t insist. He just offered his arm to support him as they walked back to the hospital together. He didn’t say anything else. But he held his arm a little tighter, and that was more than enough.
Rain fell softly against the office windows. It was late, and most of the town was asleep. Jungkook sat on the examination table, with a fresh bandage on his right arm and his eyes fixed on the floor. Seokjin silently put away the first aid kit, as if he didn’t want to break something fragile hanging in the air.
“Does it hurt?” he finally asked, without looking at him.
“No", Jungkook answered, though he wasn’t talking about the wound.
Seokjin nodded slowly. Then he came closer and leaned against the edge of the table, not invading, but not pulling away either.
“You don’t have to carry everything alone", he murmured. “Not when I’m here. We haven’t known each other for long, but… you know".
Jungkook looked up. There it was again that dangerous calm, that way of looking at him like he wasn’t a monster, like there was still something inside him worth saving. He swallowed hard. His instincts screamed at him to run. To break the moment before it became a need. But Seokjin was so close. And it was so easy to let his guard down with him.
“You’re like a supernova. Have you heard of them?", he murmured without thinking.
Seokjin smiled, just barely.
“Are you sure I am?”
“Why?” Jungkook asked, confused.
“Aren’t they supposed to not last forever? They’re stars that explode and end up scattered into fragments".
Beautiful… bright… and doomed to disappear.
Jungkook thought again.
“Their explosions are beautiful. And the fragments, in the end, become something else that stays with us, don’t you think?”
“Then look at me while I last", Seokjin said.
And Jungkook did.
From the moment he first saw Jungkook sitting at the noodle stand, Seokjin knew there was something in him that couldn’t be treated with bandages or stitches. It was like facing a wounded animal: alert, ready to flee or attack, but with the eyes of someone who had already run too far.
And yet, he stayed.
Seokjin watched his profile under the dim office light, the way his shoulders seemed to carry an invisible weight. There was tension in his body even when he was still, as if he didn’t know how to exist in calmness.
Seokjin had understood more than Jungkook’s words. It wasn't a poetic metaphor. It was a warning. Jungkook believed all good things had to break. That affection, if touched, would fall apart in his hands. But Seokjin wasn’t fragile. And more than that: he wasn’t afraid to break for someone who had never been allowed to be touched with tenderness.
He looked at him, knowing he should keep his distance. That he should be professional, rational, sane. That everything in his past had taught him not to cross certain lines because he knew the consequences.
But Jungkook looked at him like the whole world was a minefield, and he was the only safe breath. And how could he not want to stay, just to prove not everything hurts?
“Are you hungry?” Seokjin asked softly, almost like a truce.
Jungkook frowned, puzzled.
“No".
“There are some cookies in the break room. It’s not much… but it’s something. And you can stay, if you want. A little longer".
He didn’t know if it was an invitation or a request. But there it was, with his heart in his hand, not hiding it.
Because there was something in Jungkook, in his restrained rage, in his half-broken silence, that made him want to stay too. Even if it hurt later.
They were both broken pieces from different puzzles. But in the cold of the town, the silence of the streets, and the wounds that never quite healed, they seemed to fit.
Not perfectly. But enough to make it worth trying.
Hours later, that night, when Seokjin lay down in his bed, the phrase about the supernova was still echoing in his mind.
The light of a supernova doesn’t last forever. Its brilliance is so powerful because it’s meant to burn out. Seokjin thought about people. They give everything, pour themselves out completely, until one day they collapse. Sometimes they disappear without warning, leaving behind a void that seems to swallow everything. Other times, they leave an indelible mark, a nebula of memories, lessons, scars… beauty in ruins.
And still, it’s worth it. Because knowing a supernova, even if its departure hurts, changes you forever. It reminds you that some things, though brief, are eternal in their impact.
After all, Jungkook was the supernova.
𖹭
Three months had passed since that night Jungkook showed up injured in front of the hospital. Since then, their encounters hadn’t become more frequent, but they had become more meaningful.
Jungkook didn’t talk much. Sometimes, Seokjin felt him both near and distant, as if part of him were in another world, one he didn’t allow Seokjin to enter. But he didn’t push. He didn’t need explanations to know that the man with the rare smile and intense gaze felt more than he let on.
And still, Seokjin couldn’t help it. He liked Jungkook.
He liked his dry jokes, the way he mocked everything like nothing mattered, yet still showed up at his door with a bag of bungeoppang because “the lady at the shop made me buy two". He liked his deep voice when he read medication instructions that Seokjin sometimes forgot to check. He liked that, despite everything, Jungkook kept coming back.
Nothing had happened between them. They hadn’t touched beyond an accidental brush or the times Seokjin helped him wrap a bandage. But there was tension in the air. Sweet and sharp, like static waiting to burst.
And Seokjin, though shy, wanted it.
Jungkook, however, didn’t believe he deserved the way Seokjin looked at him when he thought Jungkook wasn’t watching. Like he was good. Like he wasn’t rotting from the inside out.
Jungkook hated lying to him, but he couldn’t just tell him the truth. What was he supposed to say? “Oh, right, I disappear for days because I’m out threatening people with a crowbar for a guy who’s probably hurt more people than I can count".
No. He couldn’t drag him into that.
The problem wasn’t that Seokjin might be in danger, he knew that wouldn’t happen. The problem was what Seokjin would think of Jungkook.
It was a selfish desire.
And yet, every time Seokjin talked about his day, the hospital, the patients he treated, Jungkook felt dirty. Because Seokjin was everything he wasn’t: light, laughter, kindness. Even with his own burdens, he was good. And that made it even harder to let go.
“You’re quiet", Seokjin said one night as they walked by the lake. It was autumn, the leaves crunching beneath their feet.
“I’m thinking", Jungkook replied.
“About what?”
Jungkook looked at him. Under the soft moonlight, Seokjin seemed unreachable, something to be admired from afar.
“Whether this is real", he finally said.
Seokjin stopped. He watched him closely, without judgment. Then, with a slightly trembling smile, he asked, “And what have you concluded?”
Jungkook looked away. “I don’t know".
“Well", Seokjin said, starting to walk again, “I do".
Seokjin was starting to understand. Jungkook wasn’t someone who allowed himself to feel. Not completely. Every smile Seokjin managed to draw from him was a victory. Every small gesture, every shared silence, was one more step.
And yet, something unsettled him.
He knew Jungkook was hiding things. These weren’t just random absences. It was the way he returned: thinner, more exhausted, sometimes hurt. These weren’t household accidents. It wasn’t fights with drunks on the street. It wasn’t what he said.
But he didn’t pressure him. Because in some strange way, he was grateful. Grateful that someone like Jungkook chose to show up in his life, again and again.
Little did he know that Jungkook sometimes thought about leaving.
It was the logical thing. End it before Seokjin gets hurt. Before someone saw them together. Before his boss started asking uncomfortable questions. Before he had to answer them.
But then Seokjin would show up at his door with homemade food, or send him a message with a picture of a fat, ridiculous cat that looked like him. And Jungkook would stay. Out of cowardice, out of need. Out of something deeper he didn’t dare name.
That night at the lake, after one of those prolonged silences, Seokjin said, “You don’t have to tell me everything. Just don’t disappear without warning".
And Jungkook, who had been on the verge of leaving again, simply nodded as he looked at Seokjin’s gentle smile.
He was falling and he knew it. How could he not fall in love when he was so good to him?
Because with Jungkook, silence was comfortable. Because his jokes were like hard candies, tough to crack, but sweet once they melted. Because one night he found him asleep on the couch, hugging an alpaca-shaped pillow, and Seokjin felt his heartbeat shift.
Seokjin had forgotten the reason he moved away.
𖹭
Jungkook sometimes imagined a different life.
A job that didn’t involve blood. A future not written in threats. Seokjin in the kitchen, him making coffee. A dog or a cat. A shared bed. Laughs.
But dreams were dangerous.
And even so, every time Seokjin hugged him around the shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world, Jungkook wanted to stay a little longer even if it hurt.
Their story wasn’t simple. It wasn’t a romance novel. It was some strange dance between shadow and light, between secrets and unspoken truths. But in the middle of the chaos, they were finding something. A balance and a possibility.
And though neither of them had said it yet, both knew that what they shared was becoming something more.
Something that, maybe, was worth the risk.
They realized it when Jungkook’s visits became part of their routine, even if they followed no logical pattern. Sometimes he arrived at midnight, with deep eye bags and the smell of cigarettes. Other times, he knocked on the door in the afternoon, his expression so calm Seokjin wondered if he was the same man who had laughed days before.
They didn’t talk about love. Or about what they were. But they talked.
About the weather, about how weird one of Seokjin’s neighbors was, about a drama Seokjin watched and Jungkook pretended to hate, even though he knew all the characters’ names. About an old movie Seokjin had recommended which Jungkook watched on his own, though he never admitted he cried at the end.
Seokjin didn’t have friends in town. Jungkook didn’t have friends, period.
But they had each other, in the margins of their broken days.
One afternoon, Jungkook fell asleep on the couch. Seokjin watched him in silence for a long time. The relaxed expression on his face, his long lashes, the way one hand dangled over the edge as if he didn’t need to be on guard, how that image contrasted with the tattoos on his arm. He stepped closer and gently covered him with a blanket. Before pulling away, he let his fingers briefly brush Jungkook’s cheek.
He told himself it was just a gesture of tenderness, but he knew he was lying.
Jungkook didn’t understand how he had ended up at that point. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so normal. Seokjin offered him that without even knowing it. A strange kind of normalcy, imperfect, but so genuine it hurt.
He never pressed for answers. Not once had he asked what Jungkook did for a living. Even though he had to know. Everyone in that town did. At the very least, he suspected it. And still, he kept cooking for him, laughing at his dry jokes, opening the door even when Jungkook didn’t say why he had come.
Seokjin treated him like a man. Not like a problem.
And that was something Jungkook didn’t know how to handle.
Sometimes, he thought about telling him. Thought about sitting in front of him, looking him in the eye, and saying: “I’m part of an organization. I’ve done bad things. I’ve done things I can’t take back".
But fear held him back. Fear of losing that clean look in Seokjin’s eyes. That trust without conditions. That little corner where he could stop pretending.
One rainy Friday, Jungkook showed up soaked, hair stuck to his forehead, shoulders tight with tension. He didn’t say anything. Just sank down to the floor in the entryway while Seokjin went to get a towel.
"It was a bad day", he finally said, voice low, almost a whisper.
Seokjin knelt in front of him and gently dried his face. Then, without a word, he took his hand. He didn’t squeeze it, didn’t pull, just held it.
Jungkook looked at it for a moment. And didn’t let go.
Seokjin sighed and glanced at Jungkook’s lips: the small cut that was fading, the piercing hanging from one side, the way Jungkook licked them. He looked up and knew Jungkook was watching him the same way. With a weight of longing.
They didn’t kiss. But it was more intimate than any touch they’d had.
And Seokjin knew it.
𖹭
A week later, he received an order.
He had to deal with a man who had messed up twice on a deal with his boss. The guy lived on the outskirts of town. Jungkook didn’t ask questions. He got on his motorcycle, slipped what he needed into the inside pocket of his jacket, and left.
But on the way, something changed.
He thought about Seokjin. About his smile when he tasted a new recipe. About how he curled up on the couch like a cat. About his voice saying, “Don’t disappear without warning".
And for the first time, he disobeyed.
He didn’t go. He drove around town until night fell. Turned off his phone. And went home.
Hours later, his boss called. He didn’t answer. Then came a warning message.
Jungkook knew what that meant.
Seokjin was asleep when he heard the knocks.
When he opened the door and Jungkook was there. Hurt.
He had a cut on his eyebrow, dried blood on his shirt, and his knuckles were split.
"What happened?" Seokjin asked, alarmed, pulling him inside. Like a deja vu.
"Nothing important", Jungkook muttered. But his eyes told the truth that they both knew, though only one of them refused to accept it. That feeling that everything was coming to an end was too terrifying to even think about; the good memories began to fade, and only images of a disastrous future started to exist.
While treating him in silence, Seokjin watched him with a frown. Finally, he said:
"You have to tell me the truth".
Jungkook looked at him. His voice trembled as he answered:
"I can’t".
"Why not?"
"Because you’ll look at me differently".
Seokjin set the gauze down on the table. He stepped closer.
"And if I do, are you going to leave?"
Jungkook didn’t answer.
"Because if you’re going to leave, I’d rather you do it now".
The silence between them turned heavy, suffocating.
Jungkook stood, shaking. Walked to the door.
But before leaving, he turned back and said, barely audible:
"I don't have a good job. I do things I don’t want to tell you about. But I never meant to lie to you".
And he left and Seokjin didn’t stop him.
But he didn’t lock the door either.
𖹭
The air felt different.
Thicker. Colder.
Jungkook didn’t go straight home. He rode his motorcycle for hours, aimlessly, as if the roar of the engine could drown out the words he had said: “I do things I don’t want to tell you about".
They weren’t rehearsed words. They just slipped out like a vomit of truth.
And still, they weren’t enough.
Because he hadn’t said everything. Because he didn’t dare. Because he was afraid that if he did, whatever respect Seokjin might have had for him would shatter like glass. The worst part wasn’t saying that.
The worst part was seeing how Seokjin didn’t say anything. He didn’t stop him. Didn’t look at him with fear, or hatred. He just stood still. As if he had already known and as if he had been waiting for it.
That hurt more.
He spent the following days in silence.
He didn’t answer his boss’s messages or his colleagues’ visits. He didn’t go out. He didn’t eat well. In his apartment, dust began to gather in the corners, as if reflecting his own neglect.
He thought about Seokjin. About his hands. His voice. The way he treated him like a human being, not a monster.
And he thought he’d never see that look in his eyes again.
Maybe it was for the best.
Maybe, now that he knew a piece of the truth, Seokjin would keep his distance. He’d stay safe. He could have the peaceful life he deserved. One without ghosts, threats, and men with knives hidden in their sleeves.
But then Jungkook remembered his smile. That silly, warm expression, and the way his ears turned red when he flirted unintentionally. And the emptiness in his chest opened like a real wound.
Seokjin hadn’t slept well since that night either.
Not because he was scared. Fear was never part of what he felt for Jungkook.
It was the absence.
It was the way the door had closed without a sound. There were no screams. Just a truth spoken in a low voice and a thick silence behind it. For days, Seokjin tried to convince himself that he was fine. He went to the hospital. Treated patients. Smiled politely. Ate little. Slept less. And every time he came home, everything reminded him of Jungkook.
The blanket on the couch. The coffee mugs. The keychain Jungkook had once called “ridiculously childish", but still carried on his bag just to tease him.
Everything was full of him.
And the worst part was that, deep down, Seokjin had already known everything.
He didn’t need the details to understand. The rumors. The absences. The wounds. The distant looks when he thought no one was watching. There had been too many signs. What hurt wasn’t the revelation, but the guilt Jungkook carried. The fact that he believed that was enough to push Seokjin away and not knowing whether he should follow him or not.
Actually, they hadn’t fought, and he wasn’t disappointed. Seokjin had always imagined what might be going on, but he didn’t want to pressure him. Every night he wondered whether it would be okay to send him a message, invite him out to eat, pretend that nothing had happened. But he didn’t know what Jungkook was thinking. Did he really want to distance himself from him?
Fighting the feeling of loneliness and fear was beginning to seem impossible; just a few months had been enough to become far too dependent.
That's why he was able to breath when one night he got home and found a note on the door.
«I’m sorry. I didn’t want things to end like this».
There was no signature. But the handwriting was his. He would recognize it among a thousand.
Seokjin pressed the note to his chest and collapsed in the doorway. His chest burned. But he didn’t cry.
Not yet.
The note remained on Seokjin’s nightstand. Like an open wound.
He didn’t tear it up. He didn’t put it away. He didn’t ignore it. He read it once a night. Like a ritual. Like a way to remind himself that someone, somewhere, was as lost as he was. But also, just as full of guilt, of pain, of something that felt like love. Even if neither of them knew how to name it.
And as the days passed, one certainty grew inside him: Jungkook wasn’t the only one who was afraid.
Seokjin was too.
But maybe, they could face it together.
Jungkook had left the note after hours of indecision.
He didn’t knock and didn’t call. He didn’t want to pressure him, he just wanted him to know he was thinking about him. That he was sorry he couldn’t be better.
He returned home with clenched fists and a heart in ruins.
For the first time in a long while, he didn’t know what to do.
He didn’t know whether to fight for this or let it go.
He only knew that he missed him. And for the first time he allowed himself to cry.
𖹭
It wasn’t bravery. It was desperation.
The days went by, and his chest felt emptier with each one. No mission, task, or threat could distract him. He slept poorly, ate little, and only looked at his phone to see if Seokjin had sent him a message.
He didn't.
And Jungkook understood. He couldn’t blame him. But he also couldn’t bear it.
So one night, without thinking too much, he grabbed his jacket and went to the park.
The noodle stand was still open.
It was Thursday.
And that was where it had all started.
He didn’t order food. He just stood there, leaning against one of the nearby trees. Watching the lady at the stand, the few customers, the lights hanging lazily from the structure. The air was cold, but bearable. There was something nostalgic about being there.
Part of him hoped Seokjin would show up, like the first time. Another part knew that wouldn’t happen.
He wondered what would’ve happened if that day he’d stayed a little longer at the bar. If he’d gone to the convenience store. If he’d gone straight home.
So he did something he never thought he’d do.
He took out his phone. Wrote a message. Deleted it. Wrote again.
I’m at the noodle stand. I don’t know why I came.
He sent it.
I guess I do know.
I want to see you.
His heart was pounding so hard it hurt his chest. He sat on one of the stone benches near the park. And waited.
Five minutes passed.
Please.
Ten.
Fifteen.
The wind started to pick up.
He was about to stand when he heard it.
Footsteps.
He didn’t want to look right away, as if moving too quickly might shatter the illusion.
But then he heard a voice:
“I didn’t think you’d be this direct".
Jungkook turned.
Seokjin was there, scarf crooked, cheeks red from the cold, and eyes shining with a mix of surprise and exhaustion. He wasn’t smiling but he didn’t look angry.
Jungkook swallowed. “I didn’t know what else to do".
Seokjin approached slowly. He stood in front of him, looking at him like he was trying to decide something.
“Why now?”
“Because I can’t stop thinking about you", Jungkook said, plain and unfiltered.
Seokjin blinked. Looked at him in silence. His expression is unreadable.
“I’m not a good person", Jungkook continued. “I don’t know if I ever was. I do things you wouldn’t want to know about. I’m selfish. But ever since I met you, there are parts of me that want to change. Not because you ask me to. But because I want to be someone you don’t have to look at with fear".
Seokjin listened without moving. Without interrupting.
“And I don’t know if I deserve this. But I didn’t come for that. I came because if I didn’t say this, I’d regret it for the rest of my life".
The silence stretched between them like a taut thread.
And then Seokjin spoke:
“You’re an idiot".
Jungkook frowned, confused.
“Did you really think I was going to leave you over something I already knew?”
“You already knew?”
Seokjin nodded. “Since the second time you disappeared without explanation. Since the nights you came back hurt. I’m not stupid. I was just waiting for you to trust me enough to say it".
Jungkook looked down, ashamed.
“The problem isn’t your job, Jungkook. The problem is that you think you don’t deserve to be loved. That you think what you’ve done defines you forever. And I won’t lie to you... I can’t change what you do, or justify it. But I can tell you this: I’m not going to be afraid of someone who looks at me the way you look at me".
Jungkook looked up. And in Seokjin’s eyes, there was no hatred. No pity.
There was something like tenderness. And anger. And affection.
“You don’t look at me like the others do", Jungkook whispered.
“And you don’t treat me like the others do", Seokjin replied, lowering his voice.
They stayed that way for a moment, watching each other, measuring the distance. Until Seokjin took a step forward. Then another. And then, without a word, he sat next to him on the stone bench.
They both looked straight ahead.
And as if that small gesture were a pact, Jungkook felt for the first time in weeks that he could breathe.
The walk home was quiet, but not uncomfortable. They walked side by side, with no need to fill the silence with words. Sometimes, that was enough.
Seokjin opened the door to his house and let him in first, as if it weren’t the first time. As if he’d never left. Jungkook paused in the doorway, looking around with a mix of nostalgia and nervousness.
Everything was the same. The blanket on the couch, the mug he used to drink from, even the package of cookies he liked were still unopened in the cupboard.
“Sit", Seokjin said, heading to the kitchen to make tea. “I don’t bite. Though maybe you deserve it".
Jungkook let out a quiet smile and sat on the couch. Let his fingers sink into the warm fabric. The place smelled familiar: of soap, of wood, of Seokjin. Home.
Minutes later, Seokjin came back with two cups of hot tea. He handed one to Jungkook without looking at him directly, as if giving tea was easier than giving forgiveness.
“Thanks", Jungkook murmured, holding it with both hands.
Seokjin sat at the other end of the couch, legs crossed, cup in hand. He didn’t speak for a while. He just looked at Jungkook, as if trying to recognize the man in front of him.
“I didn’t contact you because I was scared", he finally said. “I didn’t do it because I didn’t know how to handle what I felt when you walked out that door".
Jungkook gripped his cup tighter. “I know".
“I also don’t like feeling weak", Seokjin continued. “I already had to run away once. Change cities, lives, routines. I thought I’d find something calm here. Something I could control".
Jungkook swallowed. “And then I showed up".
“And then you showed up".
They both laughed softly. Shared sadness.
“I don’t want you to be afraid of telling me things", Seokjin said, looking at him seriously. “I’m not going to ask you to change. I’m not that naïve. But I do want you to trust me. Even just a little".
“I do trust you", Jungkook answered without hesitation. “It’s just… hard to trust that someone won’t run away when they see who you really are".
“Then look at me", Seokjin said, more firmly now. “Am I running?”
Jungkook looked at him. For the first time in days, he really looked.
“No".
“Good. Then tell me what you need. What do you want from me?”
Everything.
Silence.
Jungkook lowered his gaze. The cup trembled slightly in his hands.
“I want to be here", he confessed. “Just stay. Not think about anything for a while. Not feel like the world’s going to break every time I close my eyes. Just be here".
Seokjin didn’t answer with words. He leaned closer. Slowly, without pressure. Set his cup on the table and, with unexpected gentleness, placed his hand over Jungkook’s.
And Jungkook didn’t pull away.
“You can stay", Seokjin said. “Even if you don’t talk. Even if you don’t explain everything. Even if it all takes time".
Jungkook closed his eyes, feeling the warmth rise up his arm from the contact.
“You’re too good", he whispered.
“No", Seokjin corrected him with a faint smile. “I’m just like you. I just hide it better".
There was something comforting in that confession. Jungkook let himself lean back against the couch, finally releasing the breath he’d been holding for days.
They didn’t do anything.
But for the first time, there was nothing to pretend.
Just two people, sharing the same silence.
And in that warm space, in that small house by the lake, something new began to grow.
Not perfect.
But real.
𖹭
The days began to pass with a different rhythm.
Jungkook started spending more and more nights at his place. Sometimes he arrived late, silent, like a shadow smelling of wind and tobacco. Other times, he knocked on the door with another bag of bungeoppang or fruit, as if that were an excuse to stay.
Seokjin let him in without asking.
And without planning it, they started to build a routine.
Seokjin cooked. Jungkook washed the dishes. Sometimes in silence, other times while they argued about bad movies or made fun of their boring neighbors. Seokjin always woke up first, made coffee, and left a cup on the table, right where Jungkook liked to sit. Jungkook, though he never said anything, began leaving him small notes written on napkins: silly phrases, badly drawn doodles, lyrics from songs Seokjin always sang.
On weekends, if Jungkook didn’t have “work”, a word Seokjin had learned not to question, they went for walks around the lake, sometimes without talking, just sharing the silence.
They weren’t a couple. They hadn’t said it out loud. But there was something intimate in how Seokjin knew how much sugar Jungkook liked in his coffee, or in how Jungkook started to recognize the tone Seokjin used when he came home tired from the hospital and didn’t want to talk about his day.
There was closeness. A brush of hands when passing the salt. Glances that lingered a few seconds too long. And once, a long hug, in the middle of a stormy night, when Jungkook woke up drenched in sweat and Seokjin found him in the hallway, breathing like he’d just come out of a fight.
“Did you have a nightmare?” he asked, not turning on the light.
Jungkook didn’t respond. But he nodded and let Seokjin wrap his arms around him. They stayed like that until the trembling stopped.
Jungkook didn’t understand how he’d ended up there.
Sharing someone’s bed without fear. Someone who knew his shadows and still didn’t push him away.
At first, he thought the illusion would break. That Seokjin would get tired. That one day, he’d wake up and see Jungkook for what he was: a risk. A ticking time bomb.
But it didn’t happen.
And the more time passed, the harder it became to leave.
He liked listening to Seokjin talk while he cooked, even if he didn’t understand half of what he said. He liked watching him fix his hair in front of the mirror, grumbling about small things, like the world wasn’t so heavy. He liked feeling his presence on the other side of the bed, even if they didn’t touch.
One night, Jungkook came home earlier than planned.
Seokjin was asleep on the couch, the video game controller resting on his chest and the soft lights of the TV casting gentle shadows.
He watched him for a long time. Then, without thinking, he grabbed a blanket and laid it over him. He leaned in, hesitated, and finally placed a light kiss on Seokjin’s forehead.
It was the bravest gesture he’d made in weeks and it felt good.
As if, for the first time, he could allow himself to love someone.
Seokjin woke up with the warmth of the blanket and a familiar scent on his forehead.
He didn’t say anything. But he knew.
And he smiled, eyes still closed.
𖹭
They were small steps. Almost invisible.
But between the coffee, the lake walks, and the shared silences, the routine became something like a refuge.
They didn’t know how long it would last. But for the first time, they weren’t thinking about that.
For now, it only mattered that they were there together.
It was Thursday night and the rain was soft. The kind of rain that doesn’t bother you, that feels more like company than noise.
They had eaten dinner together, like almost every night lately. Jungkook had arrived earlier than usual, soaked, his hair dripping and his jacket a mess. Seokjin just clicked his tongue, handed him a towel, and made him change while Jungkook smiled sheepishly for wetting the floor. Then he made hot soup and played soft music, because he knew Jungkook didn’t talk much when it rained.
Now they were on the couch, each with a cup of tea in hand, their legs barely touching, and the sound of rain tapping against the windows filling the empty spaces.
Seokjin watched him out of the corner of his eye.
Jungkook’s hair was damp, his face relaxed, almost sleepy. The lamp cast shadows across his profile. And in that moment, Seokjin found it impossible not to say it.
“I like you".
Jungkook blinked.
He didn’t look at him right away, as if the words needed a few seconds to settle in his body. Then he turned his head slowly, like he was waiting for Seokjin to take it back.
But he didn’t.
“I like you", he repeated, softer this time. “For a long time. And I know this isn’t the best time, or the best place, or the best context... but I wanted you to know".
Jungkook set the cup down on the table, carefully. His body stayed still, but his eyes never left Seokjin’s.
Several seconds passed in silence. Not tense, just full.
“Since when?” Jungkook finally asked, his voice rough.
“Since the first day. When you let me help you. Maybe then".
Jungkook smiled. A small, incredulous one.
“I didn’t think you’d say it".
“Neither did I. But I didn’t want to keep it to myself anymore".
Jungkook leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees, hands clasped. He looked like someone who’d just received news he didn’t know how to process.
“Me too", he said, barely audible.
“What?”
“I feel the same way", Jungkook said again, this time louder. “I really like you. For a long time. Even though I didn’t want to admit it. Even though I thought it was a bad idea. A really bad idea".
Seokjin looked at him, speechless.
“I was scared", Jungkook admitted. “That if I liked you, it would be bad for you. That if I got closer, I’d drag you down with me. But the worst part is, I got closer anyway. And closer. And now I don’t know how to walk away".
“You don’t have to", Seokjin whispered.
“But I don’t know how to stay without hurting you either".
“I’m a doctor, I can heal wounds", he said, half-joking.
“Seokjin", Jungkook looked at him seriously.
Seokjin leaned toward him. He placed a hand firmly on Jungkook’s leg, without hesitation.
“Then don’t promise me anything. Just stay tonight. Stay now".
And Jungkook nodded.
For the first time, they said it.
And there was no regret in their voices.
Seokjin lifted the hand he had on Jungkook’s leg and placed it over his chest. His heart was pounding. He hadn’t felt it beat that hard in a long time.
Jungkook leaned closer, almost asking for permission with his gaze. He curled a hand around Seokjin’s waist and, despite the inner conflict, despite the surge of emotions, he gathered his courage.
“Even if it’s just once", he said gently as he turned Seokjin so he was nearly sitting in his lap. One hand on his waist, the other raised to Seokjin’s lips. “Let me kiss you. I want to know what it feels like to kiss you". He leaned in until their noses touched, until their breaths mingled.
Seokjin shifted to fully straddle Jungkook’s lap, hands resting on his shoulders, and closed his eyes.
He could feel Jungkook smiling.
When their lips met, it was like puzzle pieces clicking into place. Like a hollow space being filled. Like falling from a great height and not hitting the ground. Seokjin held Jungkook’s face with both hands as he opened his mouth. Jungkook gripped him tightly, anxious. Seokjin’s fingers tangled in Jungkook’s damp hair, tugging lightly, drawing a soft moan from him. It was exhilarating. The cold sensation of his piercing only made it worse. The taste of cinnamon from the tea lingered with every brush of lips and every tangle of tongues in a dance only they could do.
Seokjin blushed when a moan escaped his lips, arching his back. Jungkook tightened his grip as he deepened the kiss. His warm hand slid from Seokjin’s waist to his lower back, thumb lifting his shirt slightly.
When the air became scarce, Seokjin broke the kiss and looked into Jungkook’s eyes. They were glowing, his lips red and he knew he didn’t look any better. He felt dizzy, drunk on kisses. Breathing unevenly, he licked his lips as he kept staring at Jungkook.
“Sorry", Jungkook said, swallowing hard, breathing fast.
Seokjin was about to respond when Jungkook kissed him again, and Seokjin closed his eyes and let go.
When they pulled apart, they rested forehead to forehead, panting.
“I can’t do it just once".
“Good to know", Seokjin said.
And he kissed him again. Jungkook’s hands slid lower until they reached Seokjin’s ass, touching but not pressing and it was driving Seokjin crazy. He nipped at Jungkook’s lower lip, and with every passing second, he felt more desperate to feel more.
Jungkook felt Seokjin’s arms wrap around his shoulders, restless. He inhaled the scent of clean clothes, of autumn, of cinnamon. A mix of smells that pushed him to the edge, making it impossible to think of anything but Seokjin. He forgot his worries and left behind the weight that had haunted him just minutes before. Now, his only concern was making Seokjin feel good.
He snapped back to reality when Seokjin broke the kiss and began placing soft kisses across his face. His forehead. His cheek.
“Let’s go to the bedroom".
Seokjin didn’t know what to do next. Emotion had blinded him for a second, and now nerves were starting to take over. He watched Jungkook close the door to his room, then begin walking toward the bed, where Seokjin was already sitting, waiting for him.
Without saying a word, Jungkook reached the foot of the bed and knelt in front of Seokjin, surprising him. He rested his head and hands on Seokjin’s knees and sighed. Desperate, restless for more, but scared.
Seokjin gently stroked his head and lifted his face. When their eyes met, Seokjin smiled and gave him a short kiss on the lips. He took his hand and pulled him closer, inviting him into his space. He moved back toward the headboard and opened his legs so Jungkook could settle between them. The way he looked at him was indescribable.
There was devotion.
“If I had known kissing you would feel like this, I would’ve done it sooner". He kissed him again. This time softer, as if Seokjin might break at any moment.
They kissed longer, drinking in every sound from each other’s mouths. It was intense, but the desire wasn’t just sexual. It wasn’t just about feeling each other’s bodies. It was the longing to know it was mutual.
Jungkook pulled Seokjin down so he lay completely on the bed. He climbed on top of him, placing a hand on his knee as he opened his legs to settle between them, looking at Seokjin as if he were the most wonderful thing in the world. Seokjin pulled him even closer, their bodies now completely touching. He knew Jungkook was well-endowed, but feeling him through the clothes became almost carnal. Needing more, thinking about where the night would go, he rocked his hips forward, rubbing against him. Sparks of pleasure spread through his body, intensifying the lust and making him crave even more.
Just a moment ago, they were chatting in the living room. Now they were in the bedroom, barely able to speak a word.
Their moans grew louder, almost embarrassingly so, and all of Seokjin’s blood was rushing downward. He knew what that meant.
“Please", Jungkook whispered, eyes closed. “Please let me keep going".
Seokjin smiled. “You can do whatever you want".
He placed his hands on Jungkook’s chest, feeling more than just his heartbeat. He felt the shape of his breasts and knew he would become addicted. He kept touching him, feeling through the thin fabric as his nipples hardened under his fingers, appreciating how hard it was to pull away. He whispered, “One of the reasons I talked to you the first time was because I thought you were hot".
Jungkook looked up and pulled slightly away from Seokjin, wide-eyed and blushing. “Was this your plan all along?”
“No, but I think it turned out pretty well. Don’t you think?” He smiled cheekily.
“Definitely yes", Jungkook replied, breathless. He felt Seokjin’s hands slip under his shirt, slowly lifting it up until his bare nipples were revealed.
“I’ve thought about this. Us. Doing it", Seokjin confessed, his ears and neck turning red with boldness.
Cursing internally, Jungkook grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it off in one swift motion, tossing it beside the bed. He shifted so Seokjin was now straddling his lap, and he was lying down. Holding Seokjin’s ass, he watched as his hair began to fall apart. “What did you imagine? Tell me about it".
“We have plenty of time to find out".
“Then I’ll try to exceed expectations", Jungkook said with a hint of humor.
Seokjin clicked his tongue. “That’ll be tough, but it's okay. I’m happy to be here with you".
They both laughed and shared another fleeting kiss. Jungkook didn’t waste time and began playing with the hem of Seokjin’s shirt, slowly lifting it to reveal the soft skin beneath. He breathed heavily, eyes darkening as he stared. He caressed everything he could reach like it was a precious treasure.
“You’re beautiful", he said as he completely removed the shirt.
With torturously slow movements, he rubbed the bulge in his pants against Seokjin’s ass, making sure it slid between his cheeks and drawing intense moans from both of them. Seokjin took the lead and started moving without Jungkook’s help. They heard the sound of the clothes rubbing and the bed creaking. It was almost unbearable.
“Seokjin", Jungkook panted, gripping his hips and bending his knees so Seokjin’s back was resting against them. “Hyung", he moaned.
It shook Seokjin to his core, though he wouldn’t admit it out loud. He kept admiring Jungkook’s chest with nearly unbearable passion until he got fed up and unbuttoned his pants. It was the first time he had ever felt so desperate to get something.
Jungkook sat up slightly and ran his tongue from Seokjin’s neck to his collarbone, licking upward to his chest. He kept kissing downward, leaving a trail of marks. He reached one already-erect nipple and started licking slowly.
Leaning back, still straddling Jungkook, Seokjin struggled to pull down his pants and underwear until he was completely naked. Desperate, he wrapped his hand around his erection and threw his head back, nearly hitting Jungkook’s legs.
Jungkook watched Seokjin with parted lips, swollen from kisses and from biting them to muffle moans, touching his erection. He squeezed the head of his cock, feeling precum bead out. He rubbed it from tip to base, again and again, nearly losing his mind. He had never acted this way in front of anyone.
“You look happy, Hyung", Jungkook said, pulling away from Seokjin’s chest to better take in the scene, feeling his own erection grow harder.
“Don’t tease me… Ah, don’t…” Seokjin whimpered, moving faster, gripping Jungkook’s shoulder with his other hand to pull him closer.
“What do you want me to do? Tell me everything you want".
“Fuck me, Jungkook", Seokjin slowed his movements and looked him in the eye. “Please".
Jungkook kissed Seokjin, silencing the moan he let out as Jungkook began touching him too. “Do you have lube?”
Seokjin nodded quickly and pointed to his nightstand drawer. Jungkook raised an eyebrow but didn’t waste any time.
He laid Seokjin back down and reached for the lube.
"No condoms..."
“I’m clean, I don’t care if you don’t", Seokjin replied, and Jungkook nodded slowly.
His erection was starting to bother him in his pants, realizing how careless he’d been. He stripped completely and felt Seokjin’s intense gaze on him.
Of course, Seokjin had expected Jungkook to have that kind of body, but seeing it was different from imagining it.
“Next time, I’m going to suck you off", he said bluntly, making Jungkook choke on his own saliva. “Next time, because right now I need you inside me".
Jungkook felt dizzy. The confidence he’d had moments ago was slipping out the door. Carefully, he opened the bottle of lube. He ran his hand along Seokjin’s thighs, massaging until he reached his ass. Feeling how close he was, Seokjin spread his legs for better access. Skin-on-skin contact was overwhelming, it became a race to see who was more desperate.
He kissed Seokjin’s cheek as he approached the spot. Seokjin moaned as he felt Jungkook’s lubed finger circle his entrance before pushing inside. Fascinated, Jungkook pulled out and pressed it in again, moving it around, then added a second finger without warning. He curled them inside him while kissing Seokjin’s mouth, sloppy, leaving trails of saliva whenever they parted to breathe. Jungkook worked three fingers inside him, matched by Seokjin’s moving hips as he begged to be taken.
Jungkook stopped once he felt four fingers were enough. He made no more comments about how desperate Seokjin looked, because he felt just the same.
He lifted Seokjin’s hips and adjusted them while opening his own legs for a better position. He moved closer and caressed Seokjin’s face. They looked into each other’s eyes like their lives depended on it.
It was a new promise: we’re here, forever, and that’s enough.
They began another kiss, interrupted when Seokjin felt Jungkook’s cock rubbing against his hole. The room filled with gasps and moans, hypnotized by each other. Jungkook began sliding in slowly. It felt wet from the lube, and with each inch, he could feel Seokjin’s heat.
The sensation of being stretched and filled was overwhelming for both. Eventually, they both started moaning and saying each other’s names, seeking more, eyes clenched shut. Jungkook gritted his teeth as he pushed in deeper, breathing hard while Seokjin let out a moan that sounded like a sigh. He could feel Jungkook’s thickness filling him to the brim. The pleasure was as painful as it was satisfying.
It felt like an eternity until Jungkook was fully inside, hips pressed to Seokjin’s ass, the tip brushing his prostate. Neither moved. Jungkook waited patiently for Seokjin to adjust.
Their breathing was loud, the only sound in the silent room.
“Ah!" Seokjin panted, knowing he was fully flushed. “Jungkook".
“Does it hurt?” his voice was a whisper, afraid of hurting Seokjin. “Please tell me". He spoke more firmly as he rubbed Seokjin’s legs and stomach.
“Move", his voice was almost a plea as he hugged Jungkook and tried to move his hips. “Move".
Jungkook didn’t make him wait and began. He pulled out slowly, thrusting gently at first, then faster and deeper. Seokjin felt like he was in heaven. He tried to speak, but only Jungkook’s name came out in moans. He also heard Jungkook’s sounds, low, breathy moans of his name.
Desire clouded their minds, and they couldn’t have been happier. Seokjin asked to be fucked harder, and Jungkook obliged. Hitting his prostate with every thrust. Seokjin’s cock was caught between their bodies, rubbing against their abs, driving him closer to the edge. Jungkook didn’t stop and had no intention to.
The sound of their bodies slapping, mixed with the squelch of lube and their gasping moans, was driving them both insane.
Jungkook held Seokjin tighter, and from the angle, Seokjin could feel him even deeper. He was close, and from Jungkook’s increasing intensity, he knew he was too.
Jungkook pulled back, supporting himself on his knees, holding Seokjin’s legs as he kept thrusting, desperate to bring them both to climax.
Feeling his release approaching, Seokjin began stroking himself with one hand while the other gripped Jungkook’s arm, moaning in a way that would leave his throat sore in the morning.
“I’m close, Jungkook…” He felt like he was seeing stars, needing more.
Jungkook wrapped his hand around Seokjin’s cock, matching his rhythm with his thrusts. He panted, out of breath.
“You’re so cute", he whimpered. “Hyung, I like you so much".
Jungkook pulled out for a second and turned Seokjin onto his side, laying behind him and continuing to fuck him in that position, lifting one leg for better access. He kissed and moaned into Seokjin’s neck while teasing his nipples with one hand and stroking his cock with the other. Seokjin felt his fingers ache from the overwhelming pleasure.
“I love you", he repeated. “I love you, Seokjin, I love you".
And those words sent Seokjin over the edge. He answered Jungkook’s confession incoherently as he felt himself burn from the inside. His mind couldn’t focus on anything but Jungkook, and he had no time to process what was happening when Jungkook turned his face to kiss him. It was different from the others. Soft and tender, but still filled with intensity that showed the depth of his feelings. His orgasm came in a way he’d never felt before, sinking into it. His cum spilled over Jungkook’s hand, staining his stomach and part of the bed.
Jungkook didn’t stop, lifting Seokjin’s leg higher and thrusting in deeper as he kept kissing him. It was fast and frantic, driving him mad. Seokjin clenched around him, and Jungkook gasped.
“I love you too", Seokjin moaned, feeling Jungkook’s thrusts slow as he came inside him with another moan.
After a few moments that felt like eternity, Jungkook pulled out, and Seokjin turned to kiss him. Slow and unhurried.
The feeling of being next to someone yet still feeling alone, and at the same time being afraid of learning his feelings and being disappointed, was consumed by the immense joy of finally having him.
“I love you".
𖹭
After taking a shower and popping some pills for his throat, they lay on the couch (they promised to clean the bed in the morning) and started talking, as if nothing had changed. Because, in truth, nothing had.
Seokjin told Jungkook about his day at the hospital, and Jungkook talked about a new job opportunity. They were tired but not ready to sleep yet.
“I’m taking a day off from the hospital tomorrow, so don’t make plans for the weekend because we’re going on a date", Seokjin said, looking seriously at Jungkook.
“I can’t wait", he replied, pretending to be annoyed just to irritate Seokjin.
“How rude", Seokjin muttered, playing along as Jungkook pulled him into his arms and let him keep complaining at his side.
Jungkook looked out the window, which overlooked the lake. It was peaceful. He watched the moon, the stars, and kept listening to Seokjin talk. That night sky he had once gazed upon alone no longer felt so lonely.
Jungkook smiled.
It was beautiful.