Archive of Our Own ^beta

Jimin isn’t petty.

No. Absolutely not. In fact, he likes to humbly think of himself as a person who is levelheaded and calm, someone who is perfectly sane and reasonable who doesn’t fly off the handle at the slightest provocation. No, he’s got the patience of a saint, polished by years and years of attracting ignorant idiots into his orbit throughout the impetuosity of his young adult life. He likes to think that he’s got a pretty good self-esteem for someone who’s been stuck in the trenches for so long, and most of all, he’s honest.

One thing is for sure: Jimin isn’t petty enough to lie about certain things just to present himself as someone who keeps it all together. That’d be just a farce, because who in this economy actually has their shit together? So, yeah. All in all, Jimin’s got some fucking great attributes.

Most of all, he definitely isn’t petty. Nope. Not at all.

“So, anyways,” Jihyun playful lilt scratches his eardrums, “I’m holding a party at our house next Friday to celebrate the holidays and I’d love for you to come. We’re ecstatic to see how you’re doing, hyung! You know how phone calls can’t replace the thrill of reuniting in person. Of course, you’re welcome to bring a partner as well. The more the merrier, am I right?” He laughs. Jimin can feel a vein popping on his forehead as he accurately predicts what would come next.

“Ah, but wait! I forgot that you’re in this - uh, state of perpetual singleness, is it called? I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned a significant other before and you’re already in your mid twenties! Not that there’s any shame in being single, so it’s completely fine if you don’t have anyone to bring with you. Again.” There’s an underlying condescending tone in his voice and he laughs his stupid, highfalutin laugh, and never in his entire life did Jimin want to astral project through the plane, appear in front of him, and step on his toes (yes, he fucking went there). Jimin is older than his snot-nosed brat of a brother, yet he always seems to be on the receiving end of uncontainable narcissism and taunts. Where was the respect in this family?

Jihyun may be younger than him but he’s got the tenacity of a feral dog ready to take every chance possible to rub salt into his wounds. He has a higher paying job at a corporation that’s connected with oil, which means that he has an extensively large network of connections, which means that he’s also popular with a myriad of people who are questionably attracted to his “good” looks, which also means that he feels unnecessarily obligated to brag about it to Jimin’s face. Why? He doesn’t know. Perhaps it was to feed his superiority complex and ego, which is highly likely. After all, his family came from a long patrilineal line of vanity. He isn’t surprised.

But so what if he’s single? It’s not a crime nor a social deviance. Considering the strenuous requirements of his office job as a copyeditor where he reads manuscripts all day in a desk, where in the world does he have time to date? Being single is fun and he’s proved it a plenitude of times. Jihyun doesn’t seem to get it, but let’s just blame it on the inbred competitiveness of their family dynamic.

Any other day, Jimin would have laughed it off and suggested maybe next time he’ll bring someone else. But it’s the fact that his younger brother is looking down on him that makes his blood boil and his cheeks burn in humiliation. Was he going to let his younger brother poke fun at him until he was all old and wrinkly and saggy?

Fuck no. Sure, Jimin’s got the face of an angel, but beyond those twinkling eyes was a fire burning with contempt and cynicism the size of a colossus in his small body, and he was going to fight back with that same fire ready to fucking explode.

So maybe Jimin can be petty, but he’s also pretty stupid too.

“I do have someone!” He blurts out without much thought and the other end of the call goes quiet with a gasp. Jimin’s skin crawl and tingle with shock at himself, but he clears his throat and quickly composes himself as he goes along with the blatant lie his petty ass had to spew.

“What?”

“I have - uh, I have a boyfriend! Yep, a boyfriend. We’ve been dating for a couple of months, actually. I didn’t say anything because I wanted to make sure it was official, you know? But totally. He’d be ecstatic to hear that he’s finally meeting the family.” In his periphery, he catches the entertained look Yoongi gives him from the coffee station of their office staff room.

“Hyung, I can’t believe you’ve been hiding such big news from us all this time! Who is he? Do we know him? Who’s this man that’s captured your cynical heart?”

Think, think, think. Jimin racks his mind for a name, a person, someone. A metaphorical light bulb appears right above his head as he comes to a very suitable, but very stupid, conclusion.

“Jungkook!” He unabashedly exclaims, slowly realizing the name that’s slipped past his mouth and he feels himself becoming more miserable each passing minute. “I - yeah, Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.”

Jihyun monotones, “You mean that geeky friend of yours from university who sits in front of the computer all day playing with numbers?”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Jimin snaps at the audible displeasure in his brother’s tone, deeply offended, “Jungkook doesn’t sit in front of a computer all day playing with numbers. He codes, you uncultured swine - “

“Whatever. I suppose I’ll be excited to meet him finally in the flesh. Mom will be too. I guess.”

“Good.” Jimin huffs, “Because we’ll be there for sure.”

“Good.”

“Good!” Jimin gets the last say in their conversation before he ends the call, puts his phone back into the inner pocket of his black jacket, and then proceeds to slam his forehead onto the table while emitting a prolonged, miserable groan to convey the agonizing magnitude of his stupidity.

“I see that you’ve set aside this special time to humiliate yourself in front of your family.” Yoongi grins as he takes a seat across from him with a cup of coffee in hand. “I assumed you’d make up some fake boyfriend from the deep recesses of your imagination, but I can’t believe that you’d actually call Jungkook, a literal manchild who freeloads in your apartment, your boyfriend.”

Jimin shoots him a glare as Yoongi shrugs, “I panicked, okay? My brother’s a snake and I’m tired of his constant gloating about his romantically satiated love life and the fact that he thinks he’s better than me because of it. If I have to lie in order to wipe that stupid smirk off his face, then so be it. He’s going down, okay? My dignity is on the line.”

“And how would you get Jungkook, of all people, to fake date you? Even I want to shrivel up in hole at the thought. No offense.”

Jimin didn’t take any offense because really, it was true. His love life was as nonexistent as a perpetual motion machine. Then again, so was Jungkook’s. “I’ve put up with his shit for years. He owes me, whether he likes it or not.”

“And you think he’ll agree? Just like that?”

“He has to,” Jimin nods with firm belief, “Jungkook always gives in at the sight of my puppy eyes. He’s a big softie at heart underneath all his snark and sass and disgusting love for milk with apples.”

Jimin is confident that it’s a full, bulletproof plan ready for execution.

x

Jimin comes home to his apartment later in the evening only to be greeted by a chain of intense expletives and a head of messy, black hair poking out from behind of their sofa. Jimin kicks off his shoes, takes off his coat and puts his things away onto the kitchen table, before he approaches the living room to find Jungkook in nothing but an old t-shirt, Iron Man-printed boxers, mismatched socks and his round specs, while he drags his hands down over his face in visible frustration.

Jimin sighs. Jungkook was more or less the type of friend to laugh at Jimin’s own demise and misery instead of offering any malleable forms of help to assuage his agony but then again, that was pretty much the sum of their overall friendship. However, Jimin mentally planned out all the dirty receipts he had on Jungkook in case he refuses to help him this time.

“You look like you just crawled out of someone’s butthole.”

“Wow, thanks Sherlock.” Jungkook grunts, “Is your job devoted to spreading ignorance?”

“Very funny. Anyways, put the laptop aside. I need to talk to you.” Jimin says as he goes over to take a seat beside him, but Jungkook fails to listen as he continues his task at hand. “Dude.”

“I can multitask so just tell me whatever you want to tell me. I’m trying to debug stuff right now.” Jungkook murmurs with a fixated gaze on his the bright screen of his laptop that was filled with blurry, cryptic language Jimin had no ounce of understanding in.

And Jimin knows that hysterically sleep-deprived look. Whenever Jungkook’s stressed - primarily from work - he tends to disregard all tangible aspects of his surroundings, including etiquette, although Jimin’s become accustomed to it even if it drives him crazy.

“Fine, listen up.” Jimin huffs when another onslaught of intense clattering of fingertips against the keyboard clutters his ears, and he sucks in a deep breath,

“I need you to be my fake boyfriend.”

That finally gets Jungkook’s attention as his fingers pause and hovers above the keyboard. The younger man blinks, furrows his eyebrows as his mind processes Jimin’s words, and turns to face him. Then, he says impassively, “What.”

“Look, hear me out,” Jimin raises his hands to nullify the weight of his heavy favour, “my brother invited me to his jolly-ho party next week and I may or may not have also told him that you’re my boyfriend when you’re not actually my boyfriend and that I’ll bring you, my boyfriend, to the party for him to meet just so that I can shove it in everyone else’s faces and hear the end of his and my entire family and extended family’s ceaseless mentions of my single life because it’s getting extremely annoying.”

There was a slight pause. Jungkook squints at him skeptically, “And you told your brother that I’m your fake boyfriend? Me, of all people?”

Jimin flounders and his face warms underneath Jungkook’s intense gaze that held all variations of judgement, “W - Well, you’re the first person that came to mind unfortunately, and I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who can pull off the act. I mean, if it’s you, they’ll know better than to question our chemistry. And it’s just for the party. After that, they’ll leave me alone and we can go back to our happy, single lives. Besides, I don’t let you freeload here for nothing.”

“I don’t freeload!” Jungkook flouts uncouthly, “I paid the rent last month!”

“You started out as a freeloader.” Jimin argues back, “So? Are you going to let my pride and dignity suffer in the hands of my unbearable family or are you going to help a friend out - whom, by the way, you owe plenty to?”

Jungkook looks as though he’s actually considering it as he hummed, tilting his head to the side as he kept his gaze on the screen of his laptop. Jimin feels his nerves jump around in anticipation.

“Sure.”

Jimin immediately goes into full puppy eyes mode as he clasps his hands together, “Okay, I get it. You have your fragile masculinity to protect, but just so you know, I can easily kick you out of here and hoard all your precious white t-shirts and never give them back to you, so please, why can’t you just -” Jimin stops his heated spiel when he finally register his words. Did his ears deceive him? Was he dreaming? Had he truly fathomed the possible deception of the external world? He studies Jungkook warily, “Wait, did you just say yes?”

Jungkook shrugs nonchalantly and he resumes back to debugging whatever it was on his screen. Some kind of HTML passage, probably, for someone’s website since he’s a freelancer as a side job, “Yeah. Why not? I mean, we’re already living together and that’s a solid step in making the pretense believable. Only on one condition, though.”

“I’m not doing your laundry, Jungkook. Your room is a goddamn pigsty.”

“Not that.” Jungkook mumbles with a frown and sits up rigidly, fixing his glasses as he glances at him sheepishly, “If I pretend to be your boyfriend for that party, then I’ll need you to pretend to be mine for work.”

Jimin blinks. “Work?”

“I - listen. I’m a strong, independent multicellular organism that does not need the presence of another multicellular organism but my coworkers are giving me shit too.” Jungkook wrinkles his nose in distaste, “They keep teasing me about it, especially since I’m the youngest there, and - and, um. Okay, I may have also told them that I already have a boyfriend by the name of Park Jimin.”

Jimin stares at him. “You didn’t.”

“I did and I hate myself. Hey, don’t look at me like that! You did the same thing!”

“This is weird. Really weird.” Jimin can’t bring himself to fully fathom the fact that Jungkook thought of Jimin, of all people, to be his fake boyfriend. It was an uncanny coincidence, and frankly, kind of flattering.

Jungkook clears his throat, face unusually red like the colour of ripe cherries, “Anyways! Since you’ve already coincidentally brought it up… well - you know, if you can show up one day and act like a sweet and caring boyfriend with a cup of coffee or whatever couples are supposed to do and get them off my back, then that’ll be fantastic.”

“Act? I don’t need to act. I’m already sweet and caring.”

Jungkook snorts, “Right.”

He ignores the sarcasm. Instead, Jimin triumphantly laughs at the easy condition. It was a win-win situation that benefited both parties and Jimin wonders if the universe is miraculously leaning towards his favour, “That’s all? You just want me to show up at your company and give you coffee? Hell, I’ll even bring you a fucking candlelit dinner to-go to jazz things up.”

“Please don’t.” He weakly says.

“Consider it a deal!” Jimin cheers brightly and punches Jungkook in the shoulder, causing him to recoil back in a silent ‘ouch’. If Jimin had known it would be this easy, he would have asked him a long time ago. But either way, now that the plan is in full operation, Jimin can finally get his family to shut up about his nonexistent love life and maybe he can finally live peacefully without the constant, nosy reminders from them.

“What are we supposed to do now, hyung?” Jungkook asks a bit too innocently for his own perception, “Do I, like, call you something else? Hi ‘honey’? Hey ‘sweetheart’? What’s up ‘baby’?”

“Jungkook, we’ve only established this relationship a minute and sixteen seconds ago. Let’s save the terms of endearment for later.”

“Oh. Then can I inherit your assets when you die?”

“You - brat! We’re dating, not married.”

“Cohabitation exists, though.”

“Shut up, please.”

x

In preparation for his brother’s dinner party, Jimin drags Jungkook with him to the local mall to practice on how to present themselves as a pseudo-couple, as well as to hone in on their lovey-dovey comportment in order to display a plausible facade.

Seokjin, a self-appointed connoisseur of fast food cuisine and a passionate enthusiast-slash-guru of all things punny, stares at them from across the table of the cacophonous food court as Jimin feeds a bashful Jungkook a spoonful of fried rice. Then, he watches as Jimin grabs a napkin and proceeds to wipe the excess crumbs away from Jungkook’s mouth, further reddening his flushed face to the point where the tips of his ears became red as well.

“So?” Jimin impatiently waves his hand towards Seokjin, “Did that look couple-y enough? Was it believable? Did your heart swell at the sight? Did you melt?”

Seokjin doesn’t move an inch as he responds, “The only thing I felt was vomit rising to my throat.”

Jimin takes that as a credible answer and beams, “That’s exactly the answer I was looking for!”

“Unbelievable. You’re absolutely shameless. Jungkook I would have expected to be shameless, but you?” Seokjin shakes his head and subsequently narrows his eyes at them, “So? You’re officially dating now, right?”

“Pretend dating.”

“Could have fooled me.” Seokjin mutters as he takes a sip of his iced latte, “I’m surprised Jungkook even agreed to this preposterous monstrosity.”

“A man can be desperate for some peace and quiet in his own work place.” Jungkook mumbles as he crosses his arms defensively against his chest.

“That’s the thing. What kind of workplace peruses your personal love life?”

Jungkook shrugs, donning a thoughtful look, “They’re kinda weird. But, like. In an endearing way. Also, they’re really clingy. But it’s cool. They’re all chill. Apparently, a few of them went to the same uni as me. I never noticed! We go gaming every other night.”

Seokjin shakes his head, arms folded across his chest, “So, is this the only reason you called me out from my very important meeting? To watch you two fake lovebirds feed each other food so you can deceive a banquet of family and friends during your brother’s holiday party just so that you can prove them wrong and feel a sense of supremacy over them?”

“Important meeting my ass, you old man,” Jungkook retorts in a childish tone, “you were just sheathing the meat dagger with Namjoon hyung.”

“Excuse me? I rather call it sexual congress, you tasteless fool.”

“That’s bland, hyung. Four-legged foxtrot is totally much better.”

“Okay,” Jimin loudly interrupts them before their trivial exchange can blow up into a full-fledged verbal bloodshed about which sex euphemism is more exceptional, “can we please not talk about this right now and focus on what’s more important? Like, us?” He motions the space between him and Jungkook.

Seokjin flippantly rolls his eyes, “Fine. You two look like a pair of juvenile children going steady underneath a midsummer night surrounded by a light show of fireflies sickly in love with each other.”

“Thank you.” Jimin huffs, taking a bite out of the rice himself as he eats contentedly, “See, Jungkookie? Practice makes perfect. We’re totally gonna knock this outta the park. Why are you so red, anyways? You look like you’re about to detonate.”

Jungkook coughs into his arm to purposely hide his face and Seokjin audibly sighs, muttering something along the lines of, “you clueless urchins.”

Nonplussed, Jimin shrugs and finishes the plate of fried rice all by himself.

x

After Seokjin leaves with an aggravated huff at how they’ve ‘wasted his time’, they venture around the mall. However, throughout the entire duration of their trivial bickering, Jimin had to deal with Jungkook’s passive aggressive complaints and how he could have been working on his design for a web software instead.

“If you want me to buy you stupid coffee to awe your friends, then you’re going to have to shut up and be cooperative, you big baby.”

“Pretending to be a couple isn’t even that hard.” Jungkook treks beside him in his interminable disposition of gloom, a token of his demeanor that’s followed him even after high school. His Stussy beanie hid his tufts of wavy hair and his acid washed jeans had more holes in them than Jimin’s ego. If his glasses didn’t make him look like a kin of the hipster revival scene, he would’ve looked like the type of guy who listens to My Chemical Romance’s The Black Parade on repeat to sleep.

“We have to make it seem realistic, okay? My family’s made up of a bunch of gossipers and once they set their eyes on something, they’ll do anything to dig up anything incriminating to hold against each other. It’s like basically trying to prove a hypothesis wrong, albeit in a more… aggressive manner. You know how those busybodies work. I can’t believe I’m related to them.”

“I can.” Jungkook mutters.

Jimin thinks twice about hitting him because he isn’t petty. He’s a pacifist. “Anyways, we need to make our relationship look conceivable or else they’ll be suspicious, alright? We need to be clear-cut and precise which means that we can’t fuck up. You got that, Jungkook?”

No response. Jimin frowns and glances behind him, and realized that all this time, he’s been walking alone. He’d been talking to an invisible entity all this time when Jungkook had disappeared halfway through Jimin’s frantic speech. He halts in confusion as to where Jungkook ran off to, and retraces his steps back, only to find him pressed up against the glass window of a high end computer company like a child allured by a shiny toy. Sighing, Jimin approaches him beaming at the sparkling laptops on display with stars in his crepuscular eyes.

“Whoa, they have the Dell XPS 13 here!” Jungkook whirls around to face him eagerly, “It’s got the longest battery life, leading-edge connectivity, advanced docking, and it’s power efficient! Plus, it’s recycle-friendly! I totally need this in my life.”

Jimin squints at the display, unsure of where the appeal is. “What’s so bad about the one you have right now? It’s working perfectly fine and I don’t see any faults in it.”

“Aww, it’s so cute when you try to talk about things you don’t understand - ow!” Jungkook petulantly rubs at the nonexistent injury on his arm when Jimin lands a hit on him, “I can’t use Javascript and code with that piece of shit. It’s been failing on me ever since you knocked it off my desk and spilled water on it.”

“It was an accident.”

“Accident or not, mundane plebeians like you won’t understand our pristine technological necessities.” Jungkook juts out his chin haughtily as he places a hand longingly on the glass, “But it’s expensive as hell.”

“Exactly. And you know what else is expensive? Rent.” Jimin grabs him by the arm and tugs him away.

“If I throw a stick, will you leave?”

Jimin threatens to hit him as Jungkook shoots him a impudent grin, eyes crinkling in amusement. Something warm flickers in his chest and Jimin lets him off this time, opting to merely roll his eyes in a lighthearted manner, “Let’s go, Jungkook. We can go on a nerd spree some other time when you can manage to afford a penthouse.”

“Hey! I’m not a nerd.”

“Fine. You’re a cute nerd.”

Jungkook lets out a pained wheeze and Jimin stifles a laugh. He may or may not have found it endearing how easily it was to make him so embarrassed.

In the end, he drags him away from the window. Jungkook reluctantly follows like a kicked puppy after he throws a wistful glance over his shoulder one last time, mouth forming a slight pout, and they stepped on the escalator that brought them to the second floor of the variegated mall

“We’ve got the sickening lovey-dovey gestures down. Now, for the basics.” Jimin lifts up his hand.

Jungkook stares at his supinated palm for a painful moment, clearly dumbfounded at first. His jaw slacks in realization when Jimin gestures his hand wildly to convey his point that was lost in Jungkook’s head, “Wait, you want me to hold your hand?”

“Of course. We might as well go all out, Jungkook.” Jimin’s hand is still up and waiting. He watches as Jungkook warily inspects his hand as though it was some kind of foreign anatomical structure he’s never laid eyes on before. Jimin can practically hear the elevator tune emanate in the space between them from the prolonged silence, and as he looks closely at Jungkook’s bug-eyed expression, Jimin realizes that his face is a deeper shade of red. Guess you could say he was publushing his embarrassment all over his expression.

“Oh, no way.” Jimin can’t help but giggle as it dawns on him, “You’re shy about this.”

Jungkook scowls at him,“I’m - I’m not! I just - it’s -”

“It’s just hand holding, Jungkook. It’s not like I’m going to give you a big fat smooch on the cheek or something.”

Jungkook becomes even more flustered, “I - no! Please stop talking, hyung.”

Jimin laughs heartily until his sides hurt when something bold catches his eye: a large, red poster plastered against the window of a miscellaneous store promoting an exclusive holiday sale. The world before him grows a bit bigger when his eyes widen and he lets out a gasp, sticking his arm out to stop Jungkook from continuing on without him.

“40% off for couples? Shit, hold my hand right now,” Jimin demands and Jungkook begrudgingly listens to him, tentatively wrapping his hand around Jimin’s. The size difference was substantial much to Jimin’s dismay, but Jungkook’s hand was warm and soft and his grip seemed timid from how loose and unsure it was. It unexpectedly elicits a fuzzy feeling that spurs in the mantelpiece of his chest, the warmth trickling down to his stomach and all around. It leaves him a bit flushed at the unexpected giddiness he suddenly feels, so he quickly shakes off the sudden disorientation and promptly pulls Jungkook towards the store to take a look inside.

After a succession of browsing indecisively, kicking Jungkook in the shin when he was fooling around to the point of almost knocking over a couple of crystal vases, they succeed in persuading the cashier that they really are a couple with the help of Jimin’s charming smile. They were able to leave the store with the purchased items for a relatively terrific deal.

(“I bet they made these average things out of the satisfactory.”

Jimin chokes on nothing and he shoves him, biting back laughter, “I fucking hate you.”

“Nah, you love me.”

“Unfortunately, I have to.” )

Jimin laughs victoriously as he wildly swings their interlocked hands back and forth with, “Look at this good quality but cheap shit I got! If I had known couples had all these discounts, I would’ve pretended to date you a long time ago.”

“You bought The Bodleian Library’s ‘How to Use Spirituality To Become a Good Person’ book for Seokjin and a DVD rewinder for yourself.” Jungkook deadpans.

“I know him, alright? He needs the book.”

Jungkook exhales a tired groan and continues on in a dry tone, “Okay, well. What now, babe? You want to go into one of those photo booths to document our pathetic lives to further support the evidence of our fictional romantic relationship?”

“Oh my god,” Jimin turns around with sparkles in his eyes, ignoring Jungkook’s vehement, spluttering protests, “that’s a brilliant idea, Jungkook! We should totally do that! That’s concrete proof right there that we can show them if they ever question us.”

“Why am I so stupid.” Jungkook grumbles as Jimin grabs his hand and tugs him in the right direction of the mall.

“I don’t think you’re stupid.” Jimin replies with a cheeky grin, “I think you just have bad luck when thinking.”

Like a pair of giddy children, Jungkook ends up chasing him all the way to the photo booth.

x

As a man with integrity and alacritous scruples, Jimin keeps to his word and passes by a nearby coffee place to fulfill his first duty.

(He gave Jungkook a heads up and asked him what drink he wanted, but as predicted, the answer he gets is this: “I like my coffee as black and bitter as my soul.”

“So, pink and sparkly, then?”)

Jimin ends up buying an americano for Jungkook and an earl grey tea for himself before making his way to the small office of a tech company he works in. He’s been told that they’re pretty lenient about letting whoever in as long as they’re not some kind of serial murderer and they’re given a heads up from an employee. Jimin thinks that’s nice.

Jimin enters the plexiglass building where the receptionist already knows of his expected arrival. He walks past the counter as he juggles the drinks in the carton coffee cup holder in one hand while he scrolls through his emails on his phone in the other.

He’s got this whole mental picture of what he first expects the office to be: a sophisticated workplace of high-tech computers with people walking around in urbane attires to signify their dignitary positions as software engineers, but boy, was Jimin wrong. The picture shatters into the bleak reality of muddled voices interweaving in an infernal combustion when Jimin first steps into the office and is warmly greeted by a voice screaming,

“I WILL REFERENCE YOU FROM WHEREVER I DAMN WELL PLEASE, YOU NON-STATIC BASTARD.”

Jimin nearly drops the coffee from being startled as a young woman rushes past him. The entire office was full of walking dead people - young, for the most part, and indubitably tormented. It’s kind of funny, because it reminds him of that one spongebob office fire meme. Relatable.

He walks over a limp arm sticking out from underneath one of the workspaces, although he nudges at it to determine if the arm’s rightful owner was still alive. Then, a brunette jumps up from his seat holding his head, crying out in pure misery, “Writing this should break the code, so why does it fix it? And there is literally no reason for that to be an instance variable. Why isn’t it local? It’s not working! What do I do!?”

At his beck and call, Jimin notices Jungkook dragging his feet towards the tormented brunette with fluffy hair. While Jimin approaches them, Jungkook leans forward to take a better look at the screen with bleary eyes before he speaks up insouciantly,

“You forgot the semicolon.”

Jungkook looks mortified at the brunette’s shameless laughter as he quickly adds the missing character, and cheers brightly in success that differed from his previous demeanor of profound agony. Jimin stands behind him and makes his presence known by tapping Jungkook gently on the shoulder.

“Hey nerd,” Jimin greets him and holds up the drinks, “special delivery.”

He watches as Jungkook’s eyes widen at the sight of his caffeine heaven, “Oh man, you’re the best.” Jungkook exhales a relieved sigh as Jimin hands him his drink and once again, without expecting anything at all, Jungkook leans forward and gives him a light peck on the forehead before he flashes him a smile - a warm, genuine one - where the corners of his eyes folds into endearing wrinkles, “Thanks, hyung.”

The office grows eerily silent.

Jimin stares wide-eyed up at him. His face suddenly burns like he was a potato being cooked in a easy bake oven, the warmth of the chaste kiss still lingering on his forehead. It feels as though his heart was about to fly right out of his rib cage and conspire against him. Jungkook detested PDA with every fibre of his being, so why the fuck did he kiss him? On the forehead? In front of everyone? And why did it affect Jimin so much?

“What the hell was that for?” Jimin pulls him closer by the straps of his overalls to frantically whisper.

“Isn’t that what couples are supposed to do?” Jungkook whispers back, unfazed. “It’s just a kiss on the forehead! Nothing biggie. We’re selling it. It’s totally fine.”

“Well - I - yeah, but - “

“Holy shit, dude.” Another man comes barreling towards them, bewilderment apparent through his eyes that matches an entire universe of stars, “Is this your boyfriend? I thought you were bluffing, Jungkook! I can’t believe he’s actually real!”

“Yep. Real and in the flesh. My boyfriend.” Jungkook affirms as he throws an arm around Jimin’s shoulder, trying too painfully hard to play it cool, “Because, you know - boyfriends buy each other coffee and give each other kisses on the forehead, don’t they? Totally. We’re in love. Ha.”

He sends Jungkook a discreet, disapproving look, before he sticks out his hand towards the man, “What he said. I’m Jimin.”

“I’m Hoseok and this is Taehyung.” He grins with such pure excitement as they shake hands that Jimin is pretty sure he’s looking right at the legitimate embodiment of the sun. They relocate to the wall near the door, away from the computers and from their manager’s office, although Jungkook mentioned that the guy’s probably asleep by now.

However, as Jimin returns the pleasantries, he notices that Taehyung - the one who’d been screaming about instance variables - with his large, brown and intrigued eyes, had never once left Jimin’s face. His mouth hangs agape and it isn’t until Hoseok snaps his fingers in front of him did he finally show signs of mental consciousness, turning his head towards Jungkook to utter in complete fascination, “You didn’t tell me your boyfriend is this hot.”

“Uh?” Jungkook tilts his head in slight confusion, cheeks a bit red, “Was I supposed to, Tae?”

Taehyung turns to look at Jimin, grinning, “I hope you have earl grey tea in that cup of yours because you’re a total hot-tea.”

Jimin stares impassively at him while Jungkook chokes on his coffee after accidentally inhaling most of it down the wrong pipe. “I know I am. But you know who else is going to be a hot-tea as well? You, when I dump this all over your head.”

“He gets me!” His dovelike eyes instantly brighten and he beams, “And he’s spunky too! I like you already, Jimin.”

Jimin shoots him a one-handed finger gun, “Thanks. I like your puns.”

“Hey, how come you always shut me down when I make a pun?” Jungkook frowns.

“Let’s face it, Kook,” Taehyung shrugs, “you’re not on my level yet.”

“Well, you have two ears and one mouth, Tae. Follow that ratio. Listen more, talk less." Jungkook shoots back as he rubs a hand over his face. He turns to Jimin, looks at him with a conflicted expression, then settles on an awkward pat on the back, “Well. Thanks again. Bye.”

Jimin stares at him, unimpressed. “Excuse me?”

“Aw, come on, Kook! Don’t kick your boyfriend out already!” Taehyung exclaims, “I’m on my break and I’d love to hear more about you guys. It’s such a privilege to hear about the beautiful, gradual and blossoming love story between two people and their first meeting with each other.” A fond sigh escapes past his lips.

Hoseok nods in enthusiastic agreement, “Yeah! He always talks so affectionately about you, y’know? It’s Jimin this, Jimin that - he’s so whipped that he doesn’t even talk about anything else but - “

“Sorry, he’s busy!” Jungkook interrupts them, voice raising in pitch. His face burns with a deep shade of crimson as he quickly nudges Jimin away, frantic hands covering his ears and eyes and ears again, laughing nervously, “They’re just - they’re just joking. Funny, right? But - um, maybe some other time, okay?”

His jittery behaviour does nothing to suspend his suspicions, but Jimin supposes he could have a little bit of fun with him. So, he grabs Jungkook’s hands and sends him the sickliest, sweetest smile he’s ever conjured in his entire 25 years, “Of course! I’ll see you later, then. Bye, baby.” Then he reaches up for him, cups the back of his neck, and plants a big, fat, wet smooch onto his cheek.

Jimin hears Hoseok and Taehyung coo at them in the background. His lips stay there until he can hear Jungkook make incoherent screeching noises and feels him squirm desperately at the unnecessarily prolonged kiss whilst almost spilling his coffee. Satisfied with the results of his revenge, Jimin finally pulls away with a loud smack and smiles innocently up at him as Jungkook combusts into varying shades of red and splutters unintelligibly.

“It was nice meeting you guys!” Jimin waves at both of Jungkook’s coworkers, to which they reciprocate the goodbyes with enthusiasm. He leaves the office with a sense of vindictive achievement, humming goodnaturedly with a skip in his gait, when his phone gets bombarded with a barrage of fervent messages from none other than Jungkook himself as soon as he steps out of the building.

fish-chinned little shit
> parkKR HJIMIN
> What the fuck;jlk iwas that
> i t was uNNECESSARY O K A YH
> I HTAE YOU

You
i see orthography is not in your area of expertise <
:-) <

fish-chinned little shit
> gO FUK C UrSELF

You
:-( <
but. i mean, that’s what couples do, right?????/?? <

fish-chinned little shit
> oh i see how it is
> Do u wnt to go huh??
> i can step out and settle this rn

You
why do i even fake date you <
my sanity has been in peril ever since the start of our fictitious relationship <

fish-chinned little shit
> cuz u lov me. why else was i teh first person who popped up in yuor head?
> the*
> your*

You
weren’t you telling me to go fuck myself <

fish-chinned little shit
> oh fkcu i forgot
> ok lets go!!!!!!!!
> meet me behind that bubble tea place 7:00pm sharp
> and we’ll talk with our fists then OK u got that loser

Jimin huffs an incredulous laugh at the message, and finds him smiling all the way back home.

(He swears they’re adults. Just, well. Not the mature kind.)

x

Throughout the duration of their fake dating saga, Jimin’s found some positive advantages about it. If it isn’t the free food and gifts, the insane discounts, sofa time accompanied by hi-tech foot-warming technology (cuddling) and walking around without gloves since they’d be holding hands, Jimin’s pretty sure their pretense has also tricked everyone around them. Even Yoongi - whose eyes are as sharp and perceptive as a hawk - has mistaken them for being a genuine couple one time, which means that their acting skills has definitely improved. (Even if at times, the both of them were a little bit too into it. Like cuddling. They never cuddle but it’s somehow been ingrained into their daily life. Since when the fuck did they cuddle.)

Of course, they’re just acting and sometimes actors get too invested in their roles. Their relationship was still completely and absolutely fake and they are totally still “bros”.

And that brings them to the dreaded day: the party.

“Okay, but why do I have to wear a suit? Why can’t you wear a suit? Why are you wearing a really nice and comfortable looking sweater while I’m stuck in a dress shirt? I hate dress shirts.” Jungkook sullenly complains as he aggressively buttons up his white dress shirt after tucking the ends into his nice fitting pants.

“It’s because you have nothing presentable in that closet of yours to wear to the party. You have to look classy!”

“But I hate wearing suits.”

Once Jungkook reaches the collar, he grabs black tie and fumbles with it ineptly, clearly having no idea or conception of what to do. Jimin was smoothing down the sleeves of his nice beige turtleneck when he deeply sighs, unable to watch the poor boy struggle with it. Jimin heads towards him and puts his hand out.

“Hand it over.”

Jungkook slaps the tie onto the palm of his extended hand and stands there docilely as Jimin lifts up the collar of his shirt and slips the tie around it, “How old are you? 23? And you still can’t tie a tie?” Jimin shakes his head, “Where would you be without me?”

“In my defense, my demanding profession has a lack of requirement for formal wear, thus my lack of experience in tying stupid ties. Why can’t I just wear some nice t-shirt or something? I bought a really nice graphic tee of Widowmaker the other day. I can wear that.”

“Jungkook, we’re trying to impress them. You gotta look sharp and dapper and knock their socks off of their feets.” Jimin tsks. After a few loops and folding of the ends, Jimin finishes tying the tie and fidgets with it for it to stay particularly in the center.

“There.” He says with a smile and steps back to take a good look at Jungkook’s attire. However, without his own conscious volition, his eyes end up focusing on the lean frame of his body instead - how the dress shirt accentuated his broad shoulders and wiry waist, and how the pants were a bit too tight for his taut legs. His hair is slicked back, giving a clear view to the strong structure of his face and his piercingly bright eyes. Jungkook had given up the comfort of his glasses for contacts, and Jimin is grateful for his cooperation, but it’s strange.

It’s not like Jimin hasn’t noticed Jungkook’s attractiveness before. Jimin had acknowledged the first time they met that he’s good-looking and all, but it hasn’t quite struck him in such a vivid and ambiguous way before. It makes him feel all warm and hazy inside, the kind of feeling that sat in his stomach and burned with a nuance of - something. Just something Jimin can’t decisively pinpoint in this sudden bout of confusion.

Seriously, because since when did his palms get all sweaty at the sight of his whiny, childish, undoubtedly intolerable manchild of a friend? Was he supposed to be suddenly hyper aware of how handsome he found him? The only possible answer is that Jimin was dying -

“So?”

Jimin quickly snaps out of his reverie as Jungkook frowns, raising his hands in question, “Does it look okay? Do I look okay?”

“Yeah! Um - totally! Of course! You - you clean up pretty nice, actually.” He’s all nervous giggles and jittery hand gestures.

“Um. Thanks.” Jungkook regards him with a suspicious look. His cheeks are a bit pink as he turns around to look at himself in the full-body sized mirror, before he emits a frustrated noise, “I look weird.”

Dismissing the strange sensations cartwheeling in his stomach, Jimin quickly falls back into the usual rhythm of showing affection through insults, “That’s because you’re wearing it.”

“I'm sorry, was I meant to be offended? The only thing offending me right now is your face.” Jungkook retorts back sarcastically and yells when Jimin kicks him in the knee and walks past him. “Ow! Do you come from a long line of violent barbarians or something?”

“Keep talking, Jungkook,” Jimin grumbles as he fights the warmth in his chest, “and one day, maybe you’ll say something intelligent.”

x

“Holy shit.”

Jungkook breathes in awe as he reveled in the extravagance of the house’s interior, the fanciness of the decor drowned in a resplendent dazzle that screamed ‘i’m a fucking rich ass punk’. There’s a large Christmas tree in the center of the vast living room, gleaming with tinsel and ornaments. Decorations are hung up on the walls too, strings of twinkling, holiday lights inhabiting the high spaces. The house is gigantic, two stories and incredibly vast and wide. There’s a long table with various dishes and a tall pile of plates and utensils ready to be taken, as well as a beverage and dessert station. To Jimin, it looks more like a hotel than a house. Or maybe both.

Jimin catches familiar faces of family and family friends, although many others seemed to be of socialite status, donning expensive apparel and accessories that are probably part of his brother’s circle. Typical. The only expensive thing Jimin owned was a Rolex watch, and that was a gift he bought for himself after subsidizing his savings for the past three years.

“This place looks richer than me,, hyung, and I’m not even rich! I’m, like, a piece of moldy cheese compared to this house.”

Jimin comfortably hooks his arm around Jungkook’s and leans close to him, smiling at a few guests that walks past them, “Moldy cheese? More like a fetid chunk of leftover turkey.”

“Was that your way of giving me a pep talk or something?”

“Nope. I just wanted to insult you.” Jimin laughs. He notices his mother chatting with a few of his aunts when she catches his eye, and her face immediately lights up at the sight of him. She excuses herself and approaches them, hands clasping at her fancy purse that matches her red cocktail dress. Her smile is youthful; Jimin’s beginning to think that his mother never ages.

“Jimin! Hello, it’s so good to see you!” She leans forward to peck him on the cheek, and he returns the kiss. “How are you? Please don't tell me you're still working in that publishing house. You know, maybe you should think of transferring to another field, like your younger brother. He earns a much more higher salary than someone who just. I don’t know, edits stories. You’ll be able to live a more comfortable life, don’t you think?”

Jimin sighs. Right off the bat, but at least she said hello first. His mother is relentless, but he’s not surprised to hear the talk again - his mother always brings the validity of his profession up incessantly, even over their phone calls. At this point, he’s become desensitized. Jimin dismisses the small frown Jungkook sends his way, “It’s good to see you too, Mom. And I like my job. But none of that tonight, okay? Anyways, this is - “

“Oh, yes! This must be Jungkook!” She exclaims brightly and she grabs Jungkook by the shoulders, giving him the once over and turning him side to side to inspect him. “How handsome! I’ve always pictured this Jungkook you mention over the phone calls as a little more, say, simple. But I cannot believe my son finally has a boyfriend. Gosh, I’m overjoyed. But how would this work?”

“Nice to meet you too,” Jungkook wrinkles his nose. He looks insulted at being assumed as a simpleton regarding looks, and Jimin stifles a laugh, but his own expression morphs into confusion at the end.

“How would what work?”

“Well, you know. The whole shabang.” His mother makes an innocent gesture with her hands and Jimin’s eyes widen, face burning.

“Oh my god, no! Can we not - why would you - no!” Jimin exclaims as he waves his hands frantically at her. Jungkook croaks once he understood what his mother had insinuated. Jimin wants a hole to open up on the ground and swallow him entirely - see, this is one of the reasons why he hates get togethers with his family. Don’t get him wrong - he loves his mother, but he wants to cry whenever he’s asked to explain the birds and the bees between men to his painfully ignorant mother. The context in this conversation didn’t even fit.

But then his mother turns towards him and gives him a stern frown.

“Nevermind all that, but most of all, I’m hurt you’ve kept this from us. I had to learn of this from your brother. Don’t you think that it’s at least proper of you to introduce to us our potential son-in-law?”

Jungkook stammers incoherently while Jimin’s mouth falls open in disbelief, “Son-in what? No, mom, I - we’ve only been dating for a few months! Can you not jump to conclusions, please, oh my god.”

“But - “

“We’re going to go find Jihyun, now. Let’s catch up later, okay? Love you!” Jimin gives her another kiss on the cheek before he grabs Jungkook’s hand and quickly drags him away from the vicinity of his mother who thrives off of embarrassing him. He’d think she would grown out of the inclination to do that since he’s not a teenager anymore, but his mother is always full of surprises. And he doesn’t particularly want to stick around for that.

“Sorry about that. My mom - she’s, um. A little overwhelming.” Jimin sheepishly smiles. Jungkook blankly stares at the wall. “Okay, she’s a lot overwhelming.”

“No, no. She - she seems sweet. And enthusiastic. But she does know that Naver exists, right?” Jungkook blinks, life returning back to his eyes. “I feel like I’m in The Chronicles of Narnia where the kid comes out of the closet.”

“That doesn’t even make sense. And she’s old, Jungkook. A baby boomer. Old people don’t handle technology with a finesse like us millenials do.”

Jungkook sighs, “True. I’m exhausted.”

Jimin chews on his lip, eyes flickering towards the shiny floorboards. He gently squeezes Jungkook’s hand, “Hey, I - I know crowds aren’t your thing, so really. Thanks alot for doing this. I owe you.” He feels bad that he dragged Jungkook into his whole mess, especially since he’s the kind of person who tires out in a crowded environment easily and isn’t a fan of them either.

A gentle hand guides his chin upwards so that Jimin is looking up at Jungkook again, where he’s greeted with an encouraging smile that is both warm and sweet, “Don’t worry about it, hyung. As long as the plan works out and you’re happy, then I don’t mind spending a few hours in a house full of strangers as your fake boyfriend. Plus, there’s free food! Who could pass up the opportunity of free food?”

And just like that, all the worries dissipated into a relieved laugh. Jimin playfully nudges his shoulder, “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’ll take that over ‘cute’ any day.”

Jimin grins, but then he quickly fumbles with Jungkook’s jacket and straightens his back as soon as he sees his brother approaching them with a flute of champagne in his hand, his pompous smile embedded into his face that emphasized the haughtiness of his poise. “Oh shit, here he comes. Remember what we went over, okay? Firm handshakes, dazzling smiles, confidence, and you can drop the honorifics.” In response, Jungkook fervently nods.

“Hyung!” His brother exclaims excitedly, giving him a one-sided hug to which Jimin reluctantly returns. “I’m so glad to see you here! You look great and I love the sweater. What is that? Cashmere? Doesn’t look authentic, though.“ Before Jimin can fire an insult at his Sondergaard velvet suit, his brother quickly turns towards Jungkook and surveys him from head to toe, blinking in disbelief, “And I can’t believe you were serious, hyung. This is your boyfriend? Jungkook?”

Jimin quickly recovers and grabs Jungkook’s arm, resting his head on his shoulder, “Yup, my boyfriend. I told you we’d be here, didn’t I?” He discreetly nudges Jungkook in the side to cue his practiced speech.

“Uh. Yeah! Hi. Nice to meet you. I’m Jungkook, his - his ” Jungkook audibly gulps as he smiles tensely to the point that it looks more like he’s gritting his teeth, “funny hunny fluffer nutter. And Jimin is the - ahem, the cutie patootie pookie bear to my heart.”

Jimin honestly wants to puke at that point, but they keep the act going as Jimin diffidently hits him across the arm and coos at him. Jungkook stiffly continues with fake cheer in his voice, “He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m the most luckiest man on earth to even have him as my better half. What did I ever do to deserve him.”

“Oh, how sweet! He surely is the romantic, hm?” His brother laughs in delight at their cloying display of intimacy, “I’m so happy for you, hyung. It’s about time you started dating! I was getting worried that you might spend your whole life all alone. You should bring him over more often.” Then, he sticks his hand out for Jungkook, “It’s so very nice to meet you, Jungkook. I’m surprised you even find my brother appealing, but opposites attract, don’t they?”

Jimin can feel a vein popping on his forehead. Thunder cracks in the distance. He’s about to give him a piece of his mind when Jungkook quickly snatches his brother’s hand with a tight squeeze that Jimin swears he hears a bone crack. Jihyun’s smile twitches as Jungkook vehemently shakes it. Okay, when Jimin had said a firm handshake, he didn’t mean that firm.

“If opposites attract, then I hope you meet someone who’s attractive, honest, intelligent, and cultured.” Jungkook laughs mechanically, vexation conspicuous through his rigid, smiling face.

Jihyun’s girlfriend was all those things, but it took a moment for what Jungkook said to register in Jimin’s brain that it was more of an insult than a compliment. His brother returns the laugh, albeit more forced, “Did I offend you with my opinion? You should hear the ones I keep to myself.”

“Oh, well. Aren’t you as sharp as a bowling ball? Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until they speak.”

“Don’t you know that sarcasm is the lowest form of wit?”

“I’m surprised you even understand the concept of wit. If I had a dollar for every smart thing you said, I’d be poor.”

“Wow, okay, you two sure are getting along,” Jimin interrupts them and breaks the handshake apart. He tugs at Jungkook’s arm to let go, glancing up at him in confusion when he still had that look on his face that screamed murder and menace underneath all that fake friendliness. Jimin takes his hand and holds it to his side as his brother rubbed his hands together to alleviate it from the bone-crushing handshake. “So, um. Jihyun, where’s Mina? Isn’t she here?”

“She’s currently busy finishing her latest fashion designs for her collection. It’s too important for her, you know? I support her work so of course I didn’t want this party to drag her behind.” Jihyun says with a flippant shrug, “What can you do? So, Jungkook.” He immediately turns his attention back to him, “What do you do for a living?”

Jungkook squares his shoulders, “I’m a software engineer. I’m part of a team that builds programs like Photoshop, or large applications and equipment, but I also develop and create websites.”

“Is that so?” Jihyun hums, “You’re quite different from what I imagined a software engineer would be. They normally don’t look as clean shaven and hygienic as you. I’m truly surprised. What do you do as one? Aren’t you just on your computer all day typing out numbers or something? Doesn’t exactly look as difficult as managing trade centers.”

Jimin feels Jungkook stiffen beside him. Uh oh.

Jimin’s been friends with Jungkook since university and throughout the entire span of their strangely brutal friendship, Jimin knows how much Jungkook abhors the generalizing stereotypes of software engineers and computer programmers. Jimin’s heard enough of his collectively exasperated tirades about his absolute detestation towards those who view them with narrow minds, and how not all of them were ‘brainy geeks’ and ‘arrogant assholes with peach fuzz and neckbeards and a questionable status as a brony’. Jimin can practically feel the indignant energy radiate off from Jungkook, and Jimin squeezes his hand as a warning to keep his shit at bay.

As though some higher being answered his calls, Jihyun turns at the sound of his name being called in the distance and quickly turns back around with a courteous smile, “Oh, looks like that’s my cue. Please excuse me. In the meantime, feel free to grab a drink and eat something first.”

Once Jihyun is out of earshot, Jimin notes casually, “That went well. You hate him, don't you.”

“Not exactly, but if he was on fire and I had water, I'd drink it.” Jungkook is seething, “He’s the cockiest piece of spongelicking dictatorial shit I’ve ever met. Seriously? ‘Doesn’t look difficult’? Complete bullshit I tell you! I didn’t spend my entire university years suffering incessantly from trying to generate algorithms, memorizing programming languages, and learning about implementation just for some turd to postulate it as ‘typing random numbers’ on a computer screen all day. I didn’t spend one fucking week in my freshman year trying to code a fucking snowflake when I was missing a goddamn underscore the whole time. Who in the world does he think he is? I bet he’s sexist too and thinks that women can’t work with computers. Well, I’ll have him know that the strongest and most brilliant computer programmers I know are all women! What a pompous piece of shit.” He pauses, glancing at Jimin with alarm, “Um. No offence.”

“None taken.” Jimin nods understandingly and settles for a pat on his back, “It’s okay. I don’t like him either.”

Afterwards, they were tasked with presenting themselves as a couple in front of Jimin’s family, extended family, and friends of family, who came up to them amidst intervals pressing for answers about their story. It would have been a fine process if Jimin hadn’t realized how charming Jungkook could be.

He’s witnessed at least most of his aunts, uncles, cousins - even friends of family and his brother become enamoured with the golden boy. Perhaps there’s something charismatic in his smile, his laugh, his general politeness and cordial attitude that attracted them. Either way, Jimin finds it a bit disconcerting to see all of his family fall for him, except Jimin himself. (That’s what he’s telling himself, at least.)

But everything was unexpectedly going well. They stuffed themselves with food in the corner; danced around a bit (even though Jungkook stepped on his fucking shoes, which were expensive and consisted of his saved earnings of two years); they kept a respectable distance away from Jimin’s brother and mother; and most of all, they were having fun, whispering to each other and laughing concurrently at Jungkook’s funny imitations of his pot-bellied uncles and thin, red-lipped aunts.

His little cousins have taken a liking to him too, whining for piggyback rides and chasing them around pretending to be godzilla. Plus, they explored the grand house and played pool in the common room, accidentally breaking one of the glass lights when Jimin (purposely) miscalculated and discreetly pouring a bottle or two of wine into the pool - just as a little house greeting for his brother. Jimin counts down on his watch as well: just a few more hours before they can finally go home.

That is, until all the hard liquor was brought out.

This is how Jimin finds himself sitting by the wall on the floor, his cheek burrowed into the fluffy coat of his cousin’s Golden Retriever named Poly as he watches Jungkook dance around with his pot-bellied uncles and thin, red-lipped aunts with his tie fastened around his forehead. The lights were dimmed, the christmas lights emanating the entire room in variegated hues of glowing red and greens, while something embarrassing Christmas pop song blares from the high-tech stereo. Jimin deduces that this is the most absurd and ridiculous situation he’s ever been in.

“This is why he should’ve stuck to apple cider,” Jimin mumbles into Poly’s fur, sighing, “fuckin’ lightweight.”

He’s tired, a little grumpy, and frankly, he just wants to ditch the party and go home and sleep for another twenty years. But that means he’s going to have to discreetly detach Jungkook from all his drunken family members and his brother’s fancy friends, and that alone is already a hard task to secretly complete when they were all so clingy and rowdy. All the kids were either asleep or upstairs playing with their expensive toys and game consoles, and if they were caught, the children would be the first to rat them out. Curse Jungkook and his impeccable skills in acting like Godzilla.

“Jimin, honey, why are you sitting here all alone with Poly?” His mother approaches him with a glass of tequila, looking a bit tipsy, “Shouldn’t you be with Jungkook? Look at him! He’s the life of the party. I like him - he seems to treat you well, not to mention how handsome he is. You should invite him to all the other upcoming parties too - get him accustomed to the Park dynamic.”

“What’s wrong with me sitting here all alone with Poly? At least he keeps me company.” Jimin mumbles, hugging him closely before he recoils with laughter when Poly tries to lick his face.

His mother huffs, taking a hold of his sleeve, “Come on now, Jimin. Get in the holiday spirit!”

“I am not in the mood to - “

His adamant refusal was flippantly overlooked when his mother drags him towards the living room that’s been made into a fancy dance floor, courtesy of his rich, punk ass brother. His feet scrapes across the carpets as he lets himself be reluctantly taken towards the space, until he’s being pushed right into the center of someone’s chest and strong arms wrap around him tightly.

“Jimin! Jimin, Jimin, Jiminie,” Jungkook sings cheerfully, shaking Jimin back and forth in his arms in inebriated joy as he rubs his cheek against Jimin’s, giggling, “hullo, boyfriend! My boyfriend is here, in my arms, and I am hugging my boyfriend. Oh - sorry, I farted. I missed you so much, Jimin. Where did you go? Wow, you smell like flowers. But you always smell like flowers. You’re so nice to hug too. Like a teddy bear! Hehe, you’re my teddy bear. I - I wanna hug you forever. Can I hug you forever?”

“Oh my god, you’re so plastered,” Jimin laughs as Jungkook twirls them around, tripping over his own two feet as he tries to keep up. It’s incredibly warm in Jungkook’s arms and he feels heat creeping up his neck, “This is why - hey, don’t drop me! - you stick to apple cider!”

“But I - I wanted to impress your family and show them I can handle alcohol. See? I’m handling it just fine.” Jungkook snuggles closer and fondly sighs, “Has - has anyone ever told you that you are so fluffy? ‘Cause you are totally fluffy. I wanna - wanna squish you and feed you biscuits. ‘Cause you’re fluffy!! If you - if you were a dog, you’d be a pomeranian.”

“Oh my god, Jungkook. You’re a furry.”

“I’M NOT A FURRY,” Jungkook yells, letting go of Jimin to hold him by the face, squishing his cheeks together, “I just. I just think you’re fluffy, ‘cause - ‘cause you’re so soft and gentle and nice but also really feisty and scary but I like that about you because you’re so - “ He hiccups, then he giggles, “you’re so - strong. And cute. Strong and cute. Strute?”

Jimin’s cheeks hurt from smiling so big, or maybe it’s because Jungkook’s squeezing them. “Okay, Jungkookie. I think it’s time to head home now.”

He’s trying to slither his way out of Jungkook’s strong hold on him when he realizes that everyone else has stopped dancing. In fact, they were all circling around them now with knowing smiles and laughter, and Jimin narrows his eyes in suspicion when he finally looks up. And there, in all its stupidly festive glory, was a fucking mistletoe being held above their heads by his very own brother.

Oh no.

“Oh yes,” Jihyun chimes brightly, waving the mistletoe around, “time to kiss, you lovebirds!”

Even Jungkook seems to have sobered up enough to gradually absorb the situation they were placed in as he looks up at the mistletoe, head lucid enough to mutter underneath his breath, “Ooooh, that’s not good.”

Now, kissing is something that they haven’t practiced. Jimin didn’t feel the need to do that because it’s just - well, unnecessary, since this relationship wasn’t even real in the first place. But he can’t back out, not at this point because they’ve already gone too far to let their facade be torn down. His heart is hammering against his ribcage as he looks at the jovial crowd that stares at them expectantly, his face burning as Jungkook’s arms around him loosen.

He catches Jihyun’s smirk as though he knows and Jimin grits his teeth. He wants to wipe that shit-eating grin off of his face with his own two fists, but he doesn’t, ‘cause Jimin is a pacifist who isn’t petty.

“Okay, listen up, Jungkook,” Jimin grabs him by the face and brings their foreheads together as he rapidly whispers to him in the span of 0.5 seconds, “I will do your laundry for a month max, clean your godforsaken bedroom, make you breakfast, and buy you milk of any kind at the expense of a very tiny and a very fast, kiss. Capiche?”

Jungkook blinks with his large, round eyes, the words settling into his trajectory of understanding. He slowly nods, “Ca - Capeach.”

“It’s capiche.”

His mouth suddenly stretches into a large grin as his gaze flickers towards his lips, chuckling as though he’d thought of something amusing, “Your - your lips look so lonely. Would they like to meet mine?”

Jimin thinks Jungkook should seriously stop hanging around Seokjin so much because Jimin doesn’t even know what to say to that as he feels a myriad of eyes burn at his back. While the cogs in his brain quickly attempt to churn out a response that doesn’t include hitting him, Jungkook leans forward, closes the space between them, and kisses him.

It’s chaste, feathery light and gentle; Jungkook’s lips are incredibly warm and soft. It takes Jimin aback and before he can gain control over his senses and kiss him back, Jungkook has leaned back already. Jimin can feel his breath against his cheek, reeking of alcohol and something faintly sweet, and he can still feel his own lips tingle - the taste of Jungkook’s lips still lingering against his. And most of all, the warmth is overwhelming- it pools in the center of his chest, dripping down to his stomach and through his veins. His heart pounds furiously. All he can hear is Jungkook, his breathing, the sounds of his courage.

Jungkook looks a bit flushed, face just as red as Jimin’s.

“It feels like I’ve walked right into something way too intimate for me to have seen,” his mother’s voice is distinct in the background of a few cheers. Jimin sees his brother’s face, tinted with slight surprise, as though their kiss had solidified their pretense in front of him. But Jimin is done with the party. His hands are trembling.

“We’re going now,” Jimin says roughly, taking Jungkook’s hand and tugging him to follow after him. He gives his mother a quick kiss goodbye despite her protests and he scowls at Jihyun, to whom he responds with bright laughter.

“But - but I - I wanna dance a bit more,” Jungkook complains, “and why are you so red? Am I seeing things? Are you red because you’re angry? Oh no, are you angry? I’m - I’m sorry. I’m sorry for kissing you, but you said we had a deal. We had peaches!”

Jimin sighs as he helps Jungkook into the passenger seat of his silver sedan. The chilly air is biting, puffs of frosty smoke escaping past his lips, “I’m not angry, Jungkook.”

“Oh,” Jungkook blinks wearily at him, “that’s good.”

Jimin shoves a plastic bag he picked up (stole) on the way out into his face, “Also, if you need to puke, puke in the bag. Please don’t puke in the car. It took me years, to buy this model.”

“Roger that, sir! You can trust me because I will definitely - “ Jungkook stops, breath hitching as he turns a bit green. He croaks into the plastic bag, “Uh oh.”

“If you puked while we kissed, I would have killed you and feed you to the wolves.” Jimin mutters underneath his breath as he gets into the driver’s seat. While Jungkook painfully groans with his head leaning against the window, petulantly regretting his life choices, Jimin drives back home underneath the star-filled sky with airplanes rocketing across the clouds, the distant music from the party slowly receding into silence.

x

Once they return home, Jimin nearly trips a few times as he carries Jungkook back to their apartment. He doesn’t recall Jungkook being so heavy, but after bulking up in the gym as an attempt to get back into shape, it’s got Jimin thinking that maybe he should go to the gym too. After all, his tummy is getting a bit too soft and pudgy, but if he was being honest, he likes it. It makes him feel more human. Plus, it’s fun seeing the way Jungkook get the heebie jeebies whenever Jimin speaks to him with the folds of his stomach and his belly button just to creep him out.

While flicking on the lights, Jimin accidentally bumps Jungkook into one of the walls. It elicits a groan from him, his eyes blinking blearily back into consciousness, “Ow.”

“That’s what you get for being drunk outta your mind. You’re lucky you have the day off tomorrow,” Jimin says. He brings Jungkook to the couch and drops him there, helping him loosen his tie so he can breathe more comfortably, but Jungkook seems to have gotten the wrong impression when he grabs Jimin’s hands to stop him, eyes frantically wide.

“Whoa! Don’t - don’t you think we’re going a bit too fast?” Jungkook sounds nervous, and Jimin is too puzzled to answer how ridiculous he’s being, “I - I’m not ready yet. We gotta - we gotta go steady first, okay? Because I - I wanna do it properly before we do the do.” Then he erupts into giggles, “That’s funny. Doodoo.”

“Jungkook, get your head outta the gutter. We’re - we’re not doing anything,” Jimin flicks at his forehead, huffing, “I’m just loosening your tie, okay?”

“Oh. Okay,” Jungkook relaxes, a calm smile on his face, “that’s good. That’s good.”

Jimin doesn’t want to think about what Jungkook had just drunkenly implied - but that’s the thing, he’s drunk, so he doesn’t even know what he’s blabbering about. It’s all just intoxicated gibberish Jungkook won’t even remember in the morning.

He places the tie aside and goes to the kitchen. He fills a cup with water and brings it back to Jungkook, ordering him to drink. Then, he spends the next twenty minutes trying to help Jungkook take out his eye contacts, although it was no simple feat with him moving and squirming around.

“Carry me!” Jungkook exclaims with a lovable grin after a success trial, throwing his arms open once Jimin tells him to sleep. Jimin sighs in a long-suffering manner.

“You’re lucky you’re cuter when you’re drunk,” Jimin mumbles, hoisting Jungkook up by the waist and dragging him to his bedroom. Jungkook may have a soft spot for Jimin’s puppy eyes, but Jimin has a soft spot for Jungkook in general.

Jimin sees his life flash before his eyes when he almost trips over a pile of unwashed shirts in the corner as he carries Jungkook towards the bed. He feels his soul wither just slightly at the prospect of having to clean his pigsty of a bedroom for a month, but it’s a deal done already with the devil. Sighing, he gently lays Jungkook down on his side, shoulders and arms aching already from having to bear all his weight.

“Okay, goodnight now, Jungkook. Please try not to puke all over the carpet when you wake up,” Jimin rubs his eyes, feeling them droop in spite of himself. Jungkook hums, snuggling into his pillow with a little smile on his face. Again, there’s something that burns in the wake of his chest, in his heart, and it leaves him breathless and confused. He stops himself from brushing away the stray strands of Jungkook’s hair and turns around to leave, but then a hand circles around his wrist gently and makes him halt.

Jungkook tugs at his wrist. Jimin turns around and he’s looking up at him with his eyes slightly open, lips downturned, “Sleep with me.”

Jimin blinks. He pretends to think about it, then he says flatly, “No.”

“Aw, c’mon!” Jungkook whines, swinging his arm around, “You’re supposed to be my teddy bear!”

“I don’t want to. You’re one of those people who toss and turn too much.”

“Then I won’t toss and turn with you in my arms.” Jungkook spreads his arms wide open, flapping his hands, “C’mere, teddy bear! You owe me, remember?”

Jimin sighs. He’s sighing too much - maybe it’s an indication of his age. But he finally gives in, telling Jungkook to scooch over as he reluctantly gets into bed. He’s fit snug into Jungkook’s arms, Jimin’s lips ghosting Jungkook’s collarbones as Jungkook sits his chin on top of his head, humming contentedly. And he doesn’t know what to do when all he hears is his heart hammering, the blood rushing all the way to his face and his ears. He hopes that Jungkook is too drunk to hear his heartbeat.

“Why can’t you show me affection like this when you’re not drunk?” Jimin grumbles.

“Because it’s fun to argue with you,” Jimin can hear the grin in his voice. “You’re fun to tease.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“You’re welcome!” Jungkook chimes painfully all too innocent, rubbing his cheek against Jimin’s head. Jungkook feels like an overgrown clingy kid right now. Even though Jimin is clingy in nature and even clingier when drunk, Jungkook was way worse in his opinion.

“Anyways, just go to sleep before I change my mind, okay?” Jimin says.

“But - but I need to say that - that it’s okay,” Jungkook pats his head repeatedly, voice slurring quietly as he seems to have fallen in a drowsy half-stupor, “it’s okay, it’s okay - “

“What’s okay?”

“That you’re not like them, like your family,” Jungkook mumbles, “ ‘cause you’re your own person. You’re doing your best, and that’s all that matters. So, it’s okay, hyung. It’s - it’s okay.”

He’s painfully perceptive for a drunk person, and Jimin finds it both funny and disconcerting to be consoled about it when he’s so used to just - putting it aside and sweeping it underneath the mat. But it eases the uncomfortable prick in his chest, his voice quietly soothing as he drops to whisper, before it ebbs into silence. With the steady rise and fall of Jungkook’s chest and his even breaths, Jimin knows that he’s fallen asleep.

Jimin was merely hoping to get self-satisfaction out of this, knowing that it’ll stop his brother and mother from always meddling into the lack of romance in his life, but what Jimin didn’t bargain for was an unexpected onslaught of feelings to suddenly surface from the dark. He knows Jungkook, has known him since university, and maybe there was something else hidden in the depths when they’d first met, but neither of them had bothered to dig it up and discover it. And that’s the thing - Jimin didn’t know if it was something meant to be buried. He’s unsure, confused, and frankly, a bit scared.

But for now, he’s too tired and sleepy to deal and understand the weight of them. So, he allows himself to relax and he closes his eyes against the darkness, falling asleep in the warmth of Jungkook’s arms.

x

The first thing Jimin wakes up to is the soft sunbeams shining through the windows, painting dim colours in the black behind his eyelids. Warmth is enveloped around him and he sighs into his pillow that reeks of alcohol and Jungkook’s perfume from Victoria’s Secret. It smells nice and floral, actually, and quite sweet. Bergamot? Jasmine? Perhaps it’s - wait. Why was Jungkook’s perfume on his pillow? And most of all, Jimin doesn’t remember his blanket being so tough.

Awake enough to let his curiosity rouse, Jimin slowly blinks open his eyes, vision bleary. Then, it focuses right on a sloped nose that’s in front of him, another pair of lips dangerously close to his that makes Jimin leap out of his arms and scream.

“WHO’S DYING,” Jungkook yells deliriously, springing into an upright position after being startled awake when Jimin falls off of the bed while screaming. Then, he holds a hand over his mouth as he groans, the ramifications of moving too quickly after waking up with a hangover settling into the pit of his stomach. Meanwhile, Jimin is on the floor, rubbing his back after having fallen on it so ungracefully. His eyes are teary.

Jungkook lays back down, putting an arm over his eyes, “Why the fuck is the sun out.”

“It’s morning, dumbass,” Jimin grumbles, slowly getting up from the floor. Sleeping in jeans was wickedly uncomfortable, but he’d imagine sleeping in a suit was even worse. Either way, he really needs to shower.

“Wait,” Jungkook peeks from underneath his arm, confused, “why were you in bed with me?”

“You don’t remember?” Jimin grins, raising his voice in a higher pitch to mimic him, “You’re my teddy bear, Jiminie. I wanna hug you forever. Can I hug you forever?”

Jungkook groans into his pillow, kicking his legs around in pure agony. Then, he pulls the covers over his head as he slinks back on bed, wrapping himself in a white cocoon squirming around on his bed, “Okay, well. I’m going to go hide now while I recover all these memories that I can vividly remember as I fall to my death out of utter embarrassment. Bye.”

Jimin folds over as he cackles to death, ignoring the way Jungkook threatens to bury him six feet underneath the earth if he keeps on laughing at him. But the way Jungkook is speaking from underneath the covers while hiding, face probably as hot as the earth’s core, doesn’t exactly do a good job of painting himself as frightening enough to be taken seriously.

Jimin composes himself as he wipes the tear away. A good laugh was a fine way of waking himself up. “While you wallow in mortification, I’m gonna go shower. I reek of your sweat and it’s highly unpleasant.” He grimaces as he sniffs at his turtleneck.

He leaves Jungkook’s room, heading directly towards the bathroom. He finally strips down his clothes from yesterday and gets into the shower, the hot water easing away the tension and knots in his muscles. While he washes his hair, he thinks back to the events that happened last night - the party, his embarrassing family, his stuck-up brother, and most of all, the fucking kiss. Jimin is certain Jungkook remembers it, and Jimin isn’t sure how to go on about this without acting awkward about it. It was part of their facade - they had to kiss, but why does Jimin feel so incredibly giddy about it?

He’s not supposed to react this way. Thinking back to it got his heart racing and his face burning, warmth churning in the pit of his stomach, feeling a smile involuntarily grow on his face. However, Jimin slaps himself to get a fucking grip, only to get shampoo in his eye.

“Ow - shit,” Jimin squeezes his eyes as he quickly washes away the shampooey residue from his hands before splashing a handful of water onto his face. Blinking away the sting, he glares at the tiled walls.

He thinks that the entire situation is absurd - there’s no way he might have feelings for his friend. He rather step into a hill of horse manure than to think of that tangible possibility - no,, there was no possibility! It was just a mere kiss that’s making him spiral into madness. Maybe it’s just temporary infatuation. After all, Jungkook was attractive (but Jimin wasn’t attracted to him. Nope. No way) and being held by him was admittedly nice, with his arms wrapped around him tightly and how Jimin fit into them just right. His lips were soft and warm and sweet, and gosh, is Jimin really thinking about how it’d be nice to explore the inside of his mouth with his tongue?

“No! Nope, nope, nope,” Jimin vigorously shakes his head, jumping around to make the thought go away, “Park fucking Jimin, you are not thinking about that right now. It’s called a fake relationship for the sole purpose of it being fake! This is all fake! Your feelings are fake! Wait, that sounds really harsh.” He sighs, resting his head on the wall.

His eyes travel down to his buddy that was twitching and he really thinks dying is the best possibility right now, because no. He can’t - he can’t be having a hard-on over the thought of, like. Snogging his friend. It’s against the fucking bro code even though the fucking bro code doesn’t even exist in this generation anymore.

But Jimin has to be the only one who’s overthinking all of this. Jungkook probably doesn’t even give a shit. He probably doesn’t even feel a thing - maybe a vestige of faint disgust for having to kiss his long-time friend- but maybe it was all in Jimin’s head. After all, they’re friends. And friends don’t kiss each other and start realizing their feelings for one another. It’s just ridiculous.

Flimsy excuse after another, Jimin still can’t find a plausible explanation as to why he feels this way or to voice out the magnitude of this blob of weird, warm feelings whorling around like a vortex in his body. So, he settles on, “I fucking hate you, Jeon Jungkook.”

After Jimin’s done in the shower, he dries himself and ruffles his hair with a clean towel. In the middle of drying himself, however, he’s forgotten to grab clean clothes to wear. He wraps the towel around his waist and opens the door, about to head towards his room, when he stops.

“Hyung, are you done yet? I really need to go - “ Jungkook literally walks past him at the same, exact moment Jimin opens the door, and Jungkook freezes, mouth mid-open and eyes widening. His hair is the epitome of chaos, pillow creases on his cheeks, but he seems eerily wide awake as his eyes travels down Jimin’s body before snapping his gaze back up to his face. Jungkook’s entire face was burning and he looks as though he’s going to pass out right there and then.

Jungkook throws his hands to his eyes and he turns around, shouting as he runs down the hall, “I’M GOING TO GO PEE OUTSIDE, BYE!”

Jimin blinks. The door slams in the distance.

And that right there, ladies and gentlemen and everyone in between, is a prime example of how there was absolutely no way Jimin was in love with the guy.

x

“What are you doing here?”

Taehyung is grinning, holding up two bags of takeout with Jungkook hiding behind him, head peeking out over one shoulder to see if Jimin was dressed yet. He was, in fact, wearing a large sweatshirt and sweatpants he was literally drowning in, and if Jimin was telepathic, he could’ve probably heard the internal combustion take place inside of Jungkook’s mind. But Jimin isn’t, so all he could see was Jungkook staring at the floor with a blank expression, looking as though he was having an existential crisis.

“Jungkook texted me saying something along the lines of dying - although I couldn’t really understand most of it since it was all typos - so I thought I’d bring some food to revive you guys! Oh, and Gatorade, ‘cause he’s hungover.”

Jimin wonders why Taehyung of all people, but the guy’s all sunshine and smiling like there isn’t a care in the world, and he finds the energy contagious. Maybe this will make things less awkward between him and Jungkook for the morning. He gives him a grateful smile as he helps him with one of the takeout bags, “Thanks, Taehyung. I’ll pay you back.”

“What! No, no. You don’t gotta do that. Seriously, you’re Jungkook’s boyfriend, which practically makes us best friends too. Consider this a peace offering. Also an apology, ‘cause I’m pretty sure he keeps you up late at night with his screaming when we’re playing Minecraft and Sims.”

Jimin shoots Jungkook a glare, “He does.”

“We’re gaming buddies, okay,” Jungkook mumbles, scratching at his cheek demurely. He still looks like a mess from last night. “I’m - I’m going to go shower now because I smell like your brother’s fancy wine and it makes me wanna throw up a little. You guys can go ahead and eat first.”

Jimin nods, acknowledging that fact. His brother did have that nauseating effect on people.

While Jungkook heads off to the bathroom, Taehyung and Jimin both take out out the food from the bags. Jimin gets out some plates and utensils and puts the kettle on the stove to boil some water, making tea for the two of them and when Jungkook gets out of the shower.

“Nice apartment, by the way,” Taehyung remarks, “but like, did you two get in a fight or something?”

Jimin pauses and he stares at him warily, chopsticks in midair when he was about to grab some kimchi, “No. Why would you think that?”

Taehyung shrugs, “I was on my way here when I saw Jungkook by the tree with his dick out of his pants. Like, sure. You have one bathroom, but I’m pretty sure you guys could share it. I mean, I don’t think you’re the type of person to make the other subject to public exhibitionism by a tree in order to pee. He was all red and blushy too. It’s probably ‘cause I told him his dick looks pretty big, I dunno. Anyways, I’m no voyeur, but like, I don’t think anybody likes to see a dick in broad daylight. You know?”

Jimin chokes on nothing. Taehyung hums as he chews heartily on his spicy cold noodles, “Dicks aside, glad to know you two aren’t fighting. Maybe he just likes the breeze down there. I think it’s kinda cute to see how much he likes you. Not gonna lie, hearing about how amazing you are at work is getting kinda boring. I mean, we could be talking about information technology and its benefits, and Jungkook would say something entirely out of context, like ‘Jiminie knows a lot of information about books and my heart’ and I just - “ Taehyung shivers, scrunching up his nose, “die. Is he always this cheesy?”

Jimin tries to process that - tries to process everything Taehyung is spilling to him. His mouth hangs open in an attempt to formulate an answer, wincing at how incoherent and flustered he’s becoming, “He’s the world’s sappiest asshole.”

“Amen.” Taehyung agrees as he points to him with his chopsticks, “Speaking of being an asshole, don’t you just hate it when he doesn’t pay attention to you when you’re trying to talk to him? Like, he’ll say that he can multitask because he’s doing something important at hand, but hello? I’m important too. I’m no proctologist, but I know an asshole when I see one.”

Jimin slaps his hand against the counter, eyes wide, “Exactly! Fucking - finally. That is what I’m talking about. It’s so annoying.”

They end up bonding over their pet peeves as they drink their tea (or spilling it, as they would say) and fill their stomachs up with food. Not only that, but they’re getting along well and Jimin didn’t expect to be able to talk to Taehyung so easily. It's refreshing and nice and Jimin thinks it’s the start of a beautiful friendship.

“I like you,” Jimin says with an approving nod, “great minds think alike.”

“Thanks. Always armed with my fantastic looks and wit.” Taehyung gives him a pair of finger guns, reminiscent of their first meeting and Jimin laughs.

Jungkook finally gets out of the shower, a towel draped over his head as he dries his hair, baggy t-shirt hanging over his shorts. He gives the both of them suspicious looks, or maybe a squint since he probably can’t see without his glasses, lips downturned, “Have you two been talking shit about me?”

“Now, now, Jungkookie,” Jimin hands him a cup, “I think you need a cup of positivitea in your life right now.”

Taehyung snorts. Jimin high-fives him while Jungkook glowers at him.

“Since when were you guys friends? The last time I checked, hyung tried to hit on my boyfriend,” Jungkook sits down on his seat beside Jimin, grabbing his container of bibimbap to eat.

“Let bygones be bygones, Jungkook,” Jimin slips his hand around his toned arm and leans his head on his shoulder, blinking up at him sweetly, “You don’t need to be jealous. You’re the only only one I have my eyes on after all.”

He leans back when Jungkook chokes and nearly spits out the rice in his mouth, hands fumbling for napkins. Taehyung breaks out into full, unabashed laughter while Jimin watches on with amusement. Jungkook seems more sensitive to the lovey-dovey stuff now, especially after last night, but why would he when they’ve become so accustomed to it? After all, they were still a couple in other people’s eyes. Even with the party done, they’ve still gotta keep the act up, unless they break up.

Right. Break up. That’s something Jimin thinks would be a good idea. Break up but stay friends. After all, it’s a fake relationship. Nothing would be broken anyways. But for some reason, Jimin feels reluctant to do so.

But he shoves it away. There’s no use thinking about it now and if the time comes, then he’ll call it off. For now, as Jimin watches the large grin grown on Jungkook’s face after Taehyung said something outlandishly ridiculous, he thinks he can afford to play along for his heart’s sake.

x

They don’t talk about the kiss.

Jimin keeps his word as he fulfills the deal he made with Jungkook. He cleans his godforsaken bedroom, does his laundry as he uses tongs to pluck his garments into the washing machine, armed with yellow rubber gloves and a face mask, and buys him a dozen cartons of banana milk that inundates half of their refrigerator.

(One time, when Jimin was cleaning his room, he found the alma meter pen Jimin had given to him - or, Jungkook had taken and forgotten to give back, but Jimin hadn’t minded - underneath his desk.

Jimin studied the dark blue pen in the light when Jungkook came shuffling in, eyes wide with visible relief as he takes the pen from his hands, beaming.

“You found it! I’ve been looking all over my room for this.”

Jimin would have made a wry remark about his room, but the fact that Jungkook still uses it surprised him slightly, “You still have this, Jungkook?”

They look he received from Jungkook is nonplussed, as though he couldn’t believe Jimin had actually asked him that, “Of course I do. It’s important because you gave it to me. Why wouldn’t I still have it?”)

Jungkook is smug, happy, and clearly amused, and definitely not losing sleep over the kiss, which means that Jimin is the only one in this fake relationship mulling over it too long. It’s off putting because things are still the same. When they’re not busying putting up a front of being fake boyfriends, they’re insulting each other and complaining about each other’s habits, or making a competitive race towards the bathroom at seven A.M. in the morning. It’s that same, tug-o-war of a friendship they’ve always had, albeit maybe, just maybe, a little bit more.

Or maybe that’s just Jimin’s imagination conjuring up the craziest scenarios of Jungkook being strangely considerate nowadays. He’s cleaning up after himself, actually cooking instead of making instant noodles for themselves, and being a little bit more clingy than usual. Hell, Jungkook even helped him with some Christmas decorations and the little, synthetic Christmas tree they bought at a cheap price at the supermarket. Jimin’s probably hallucinating these things, because there was no way this was actually Jungkook.

At least, he thinks so.

“Here, Merry Christmas, hyung.” Jungkook hands him a wrapped present with candy canes on them in the shape of a thick rectangular, to which at first touch Jimin can already guess what it is. Jungkook hides his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, keeping his eyes demurely to the side. He fidgets with the frame of his glasses, a nervous habit of his whenever he’s apprehensive and shy, and Jimin feels his heart skip just a beat. (It’s heart palpitations, he tells himself. Too much caffeine and too much stress. Totally.)

It’s Christmas morning, and the pale sun leaves a silver afterglow in their apartment, the christmas tree lighting up the walls in different, colourful hues. Jimin didn’t expect a gift since the both of them usually settle on greeting each other and getting plastered, or something akin to that, so receiving a present from Jungkook was a big surprise.

What’s more of a surprise is that, as Jimin tears away the wrapping paper and stares at the gift in his hands, Jungkook got him one of his favourite books that Jimin doesn’t have in his collection yet.

“I can’t believe you,” is what Jimin can say as he stares at the book, new and shiny and smelling of sentiment. And really, should his heart be beating as though he just scootered himself off a cliff, or as though it was about to beat right out of his chest and travel across the planet? Everything Jungkook does sets him ablaze and Jimin frankly doesn’t know what to do about it.

“Yeah, me too. I mean - okay, I tried reading the first few pages of it, and honestly, I was kinda bored to death. But that’s just because I’m a shit reader and I’m not really into historical things, but I googled the synopsis of it and it sounds like a beautiful book! Anyways, I - um. I know you really like The Absolutist, and you’ve been too busy to go book shopping like the nerd you are, so yeah.” Jungkook shrugs, a smile tugging at his lips, “I hope? You like it?”

Jimin places the book aside and throws himself onto Jungkook, wrapping his arms around him in a hug, “Of course I like it, Jungkook. Thank you so much - what the fuck, man. Since when were you so thoughtful?”

Jungkook grunts, wrapping his arms around his waist to reciprocate the hug, “Hey, I’m always thoughtful. You’re just persnickety.”

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

Jimin sighs, leaning back to flick him on the forehead, “You’re my favourite brat in the whole wide world, even when you get on my nerves.”

Jimin feels bad that he didn’t get anything for him, but he offers to make him extra fluffy pancakes - just the way he likes them - to give in return. He takes the sparkles in Jungkook’s eyes and the way he gapes at him, enamoured, as a yes. The smile he gets makes all of Jimin’s insides turn to goo, and he’s beginning to think that denying his feelings is probably a stupid, useless thing to do when he can’t even contain them and keep it from showing.

He just hopes that if the topic is ever brought up, the feeling is mutual too.

x

Things go a bit downhill once Jimin gets a phone call from his mother about the New Year's Eve party.

It’s just another family gathering full of drunk aunts and uncles and his mother is relentless during the invitation. Even when Jimin tries to put forth some kind of weak excuse, she immediately interrupts him with a blunt manner of speech, making Jimin wince as Jungkook watches the exchange with sympathetic eyes. The both of them have days off due to the holiday season, and while Jimin dreadfully complies that he’ll be there at the party with his boyfriend, Jimin wonders if this was really the best thing to do - this fake relationship. He’s beginning to think that perhaps lying wasn’t the best of both worlds.

Maybe Jungkook didn’t let it show. Maybe he was tired of being a fake boyfriend - of always having to hold his hands, and talk good things about Jimin, and just being expected on how to act and look. Maybe he’s being tied down unknowingly and at this point, Jimin isn’t sure on what to do. The fact that he’s beginning to become reluctant on letting go of this fake relationship purely based on emotional responses is already a bad enough sign.

Thus, once Jimin ends the call with his mother, he looks at Jungkook and says, “Let’s call it off.”

Jungkook does a perfect double-take from his phone, “What?”

“This - this fake relationship. Let’s call it off,” Jimin sighs, rubbing the space between his brows at the dull feeling of an oncoming headache. “It’s just that - my family. You already know how overwhelming they are. The fact that I told them I have a boyfriend - they’re going to be inviting you to everything. It’s not fair to you when it’s my problem. I wanted to tell my brother to eat shit but I don’t think maintaining my pride through this lie really sticks to my moral integrity.”

“Since when have you cared about your moral integrity? You literally fight old ladies at the flea market for cheap jewelry.”

Jimin’s about to open his mouth and educate the little shit about it when Jungkook speaks up again, albeit more subdued, “I - I really don’t mind, okay, Jimin? I want to help you. Besides, you’re helping me too, you know? I don’t mind roasting your brother for you. In fact, I enjoy seeing the look on his face whenever I tear his stupid ego down.”

“But what if you find someone you really like?” Jimin counters back, “What if you fall in love with someone but this is just holding you back?”

“That’s impossible.” Jungkook shuts his mouth and purses his lips, brows furrowed as though he was thinking fast and hard about this. Jimin didn’t know what he meant by that. What was impossible? He twists his hands together restlessly until Jungkook straightens his back, folding his arms across his chest. Jungkook looks like he’s about to run away from this conversation, his legs shaking up and down in jittery movements, but he powers through anyways.

“What if I don’t want this to be fake?”

Jimin stares at him.

“I want to come to the party with you,” He says slowly, testing the words, “but not as your fake boyfriend.”

Jimin continues to stare at him. What - what? Then does he want to come with him as a friend? For morale support as Jimin tells his family that it’s been fake this entire time? That doesn’t sound palatable. While trying to wrap his slow mind around this, he keeps Jungkook intense and steadfast gaze full of emotion when suddenly - suddenly, it clicks. The words - the confession - clicks. Everything fucking clicks. Jimin watches Jungkook lick his lips nervously, his face turned into the deepest shade of red ever to exist in this universe.

And all Jimin can say with his stupid mouth was, “Oh.”

Jungkook laughs, a small self-deprecating sound, “Yeah. Oh.”

Jimin doesn’t know what to think - how to think. All he can feel was his heart leaping into his throat, unable to formulate the right words. Jimin is too confused and flustered to think straight at the moment to properly reply to him, “Jungkook, I - I’m sorry - “

And fuck, that came out wrong, because Jungkook immediately took it as a rejection and his face completely falls. He looks like a kicked puppy, crestfallen with shiny eyes, and Jimin’s heart twists and breaks and before he can take those words back, Jungkook stands up abruptly, “It’s okay, hyung. Seriously, I - I should be the one apologizing for springing that up on you. I just - It was okay, you know, not telling you. But then - we kissed, and I couldn’t help it anymore.” He bites his lips and shakes his head, “I should go.”

“Jungkook, wait,” Jimin quickly grabs his arm, stopping him. What should he say? What can he say? He needs time to sort everything out. His feelings are like a fucking maze at the moment without any direction as to how to solve it. But he can’t let Jungkook walk out with the notion that a real relationship between them was impossible. “Give me time to think about this, okay? I was just really shocked because this was so unexpected and random and - and I just need to think.”

Jungkook frowns, “You shouldn’t incite false hope, you know. That’s an asshole move.” But he looks less dejected now, nodding slightly with a tiny quirk of his lips, “But okay.”

He leaves anyways. To where, Jimin’s not sure, but he ends up sitting on the couch for the next few hours wanting a drink.

x

‘S a defa - definitely not a good idea to get shit plastered on the day before New Year's Eve, because Jimin hasn’t even given Jungkook his answer yet, and here he was, drinking shots of tequila and whiskey in a dim-lighted bar, morosing over himself. And now he was - where? His head was against something hard and cold. A window. A door? Huh?

And how come everything was so blurry? He saw shadows in the shapes of eggs - heads, and he saw red and green and yellow lights. He felt like he was a fish swimming behind glass. He would probably be a koi fish, or maybe just a fucking goldfish because he has a shitty memory, or a fucking carp fish because he can’t properly respond like a normal person, or a - wait, why the fuck was he thinking about fish. He should be thinking about Jungkook, and he was, but he doesn’t remember much after complaining into his arm on the bar counter. Where was he again?

Jimin hears a voice. Suddenly, he’s falling when the door opens until someone catches him and hauls him up from a - a taxi. When did he get a fucking taxi?

“Jungkook?” Jimin mumbles, blinking blearily at the person dragging him upstairs of an apartment.

“Nope. It’s your saviour, lord of the angels, the epitome of all things wonderful.” It’s Seokjin, and he sounds kinda pissed. Someone probably shit in his cereal again. Jimin snorts at how funny he is, but then he hears him sigh, “You’re such a pain in the ass, you know that? You drunk-called me at one in the morning on New Year's Eve just to tell me to get you. You’re lucky you didn’t interrupt anything important this time.”

The world is spinning, even as Seokjin takes him inside his apartment and dumps him on the sofa. Jimin whines as he makes grabby hands for a pillow and hugs it tightly, imagining it to be - wait, no. That’s weird.

But he misses Jungkook. Right. Jungkook was living with Taehyung at the moment. Jimin doesn’t know why, but he probably wants to give Jimin space. Well, it’s been two fucking days, and now it’s past midnight that makes it three fucking days, and it’s New Year's Eve, and Jimin thinks he should probably pack his bags and move to Australia or something. They have wombats. Jimin loves wombats. And koalas.

Seokjin makes him drink water first though. It’s refreshing to his dry and parched mouth and holy shit, maybe Jimin really was a fish. No, he was pacifisht instead. He starts giggling at the brilliant pun, but then he kind of wants to cry, because fishes are lonely and miserable and that’s what he’s going to be for the rest of his life. Lonely and miserable because he codn’t, for the love of God, fucking communicate properly.

“Care to tell me why you’re getting drunk all alone and being miserable?” Seokjin sits beside him on the sofa, poking him in the side and making him squirm.

Alcohol still fresh in his system and making him become less strict with his secrets and more vulnerable than ever, he sighs into the pillow and murmurs sadly, “I have feelings.”

“I - okay. No shit, Sherlock. You might want to elaborate a bit more.”

“I have feelings for Jungkook.” This is it. Saying it out loud establishes it as a fact, as reality, and oh God, Park Jimin was in love with Jeon Jung-fucking-kook. “I like him. I really like him.”

Jimin thinks about his starry-eyed smiles and teasing grins, the way his eyes crinkles happily in accordance to how big his smile is, the way his black hair parts in a way that accentuates his stark, handsome features; and his glasses that makes him look cuter, and his pretty face and his pretty hands and his pretty, pretty body. Jungkook was pretty, too pretty, and warm and witty and nice and a fucking little nerdy shit that likes to make his life more complicated, but Jimin liked the attention Jungkook gave him. And wow. Jimin really likes him. He kinda wants to marry - wait, no. That’s too much. What the fuck.

Seokjin is staring at him as though he was the most dumbest person in the world. “And?”

“And - what?” Jimin looks up at him, blinking, “Wait, what? You - you’re not surprised?”

“Of course not. I knew this was coming. You two are just fucking clueless - you especially, Jimin. I’m pretty sure this whole parade of feelings have been going on since university but you guys are just too dumb to figure shit out until your little fake dating saga. And now, so what? You like him, he likes you. Make it fucking happen already.”

Much to his surprise, Seokjin is right. At first, Jimin was afraid that it was just because of infatuation. They were fake dating and perhaps it was inevitable to catch fleeting, romantic feelings. But Jimin realizes that it was merely an eye-opener, because now that he thinks about it - back in university, Jimin didn’t think Jungkook would like someone like Jimin, who could have come off as abrasive, so he flushed it all away with a good bottle of whiskey. And if he thinks even harder, Jimin was scared too, because feelings are scary and the lack of possible reciprocation was even scarier, so he ran away and never brought it up again. Jungkook was hard to read, so Jimin never suspected.

But Jungkook. He stuck around despite his complications when it comes to dealing with feelings, discovering the layers of his character instead of solely the outer surface, and never gave up on him. Jungkook was there - is there. He never left him at all.

“Wow.” Jimin says slowly, his eyelids heavy, “I’m dumb.”

“Yes, you are.” Seokjin says, “But I guess that’s why you two are such a good match. Dumb minds think and feel alike.”

Jimin makes a mental note to treat Seokjin to a drink next time for being such a good, long-suffering friend. He should treat Namjoon too for always being interrupted by Jimin for trivial matters.

But once Jimin closes his eyes, he falls dead asleep with a scenario in mind of how to tell Jungkook that he likes him back.

x

It’s - what - no, just fucking no - what the fuck. It’s too fucking early, and his head is pounding and he feels like finding himself a coffin to just lay down in for the rest of his life to sleep forever, because it is too fucking early for his alarm clock to be ringing.

He wipes the drool of saliva off the side of his mouth. His mouth tastes like rotten eggs and his armpits smell like mildew. When he gets up, he forces the bile back down his throat as he searches for the source of the cacophonous noise, when he realizes that it was coming from his phone.

“Fuck,” Jimin quickly takes it out and disables the alarm clock function. He rubs the sleepy crusts out of his eyes and regrets drinking. He should ban himself from getting drunk next time. Once he sits there and regains enough composure to finally open his eyes, the pounding in his head subsides slightly.

There’s a fire of determination in his chest. Today is the day; he has to prepare himself for it. No more time wasted on being a coward - Jimin was going to fucking march to Taehyung’s apartment and demand for Jungkook’s attention, and tell him that Park Jimin fucking likes him and wants to make out with him underneath the stars and in the rain and all that sappy shit, because he’s willing to be sappy just for him. There’s no going back.

So, once Jimin finishes freeloading over at Seokjin’s apartment, using a random toothbrush to scrub away the foul stench, showering and wearing his oversized clothes, and taking medicine to help with his hangover from the kitchen, he finds himself pacing back and forth frantically.

“It’s nine in the fucking morning, Jimin,” Seokjin covers his mouth as he yawns, “Sit down, drink your goddamn peppermint tea, and let me drive you.”

“What if he already left? What if he doesn’t like me anymore? What if - “ Jimin stops talking when Seokjin shoves a milk bun into his mouth to shut him up. It was an effective way because Jimin didn’t know he was this hungry until he bit into the bread and starting eating.

“Jungkook is stupid, but also stupidly in love with you,” Seokjin nonchalantly comments as Jimin chokes on his milk bun, “No sane person can fall out of love with person in the span of two nights, Jimin. You’re being ridiculous.”

Seokjin is right, much to his surprise, so Jimin stuffs more buns into his mouth, hoping to quench the churning in his gut.

Later in the morning, Jimin finds himself knocking apprehensively on the door to Taehyung’s apartment after Seokjin patted him on the bum for good luck. Jimin really needed to treat Seokjin to a drink sometime.

It was New Year's Eve - it was a time for courage and determination, and Jimin should stop being a fucking coward and just - tell the dude he fucking likes him already. He’s prepared the speech in his head over twenty times already. Jimin can do this - he can fucking do this.

The door opens. All the words die at this throat when Jimin looks at Jungkook, whose hair is still in a bundle of mess, his glasses are crooked on his nose, there’s a stain of dried saliva on his shirt, the patch still visible on the side of his mouth, and there are crease lines on the side of his face from the pillows. He looks half-asleep, but his eyes are wide at the unexpected sight of Jimin floundering like a dead fish in front of him. Jimin suddenly can’t remember his romantically sappy speech anymore. All he can focus on was how fucking cute Jungkook is even though he looks like a complete mess.

They end up staring at each other, until Jungkook starts squirming underneath his gaze, shifting one foot to the other, “Um, hi? Jimin - “

Jimin is panicking, fucking panicking - his nerves are going haywire so he ends up blurting out loud to his face, “COME TO THE PARTY WITH ME AS MY REAL BOYFRIEND!”

Jungkook recoils in shock, blinking at him with no more than bewilderment, and he looks like he’s seen a ghost. Jimin wants to cry and disappear because that was not what he was wanting to do. He was supposed to relay soft-spoken words to mirror Jungkook’s confession, but no. He had to fucking panic because his feelings were sparking up all the nerves and he had to embarrass himself. His face feels like it’s going to melt from how hot it was becoming and he shrinks beneath Jungkook’s stare.

He expects Jungkook to close the door on him, or at least tell him to come in. But the one thing Jimin didn’t expect for Jungkook to do was to approach him, grab him by the waist, and breezily pick him up as though Jimin’s weight was nothing to him.

“Wha - hey!“ Jimin yells as Jungkook literally carries him inside the apartment, using a foot to kick the door shut. Subsequently, Jungkook starts to twirl and prance around and Jimin holds onto him tightly, getting dizzier by the second, when he realizes that Jungkook is laughing into his chest, the endearing sounds muffled by his - Seokjin’s - sweater.

“Sorry, I’ve always wanted to do that,” Jungkook finally puts him down, patting Jimin down like a child as he smoothes away the wrinkles on his clothes. His eyes are beaming, now wide awake and clearly sparkling with relief and joy. He was fucking adorable and Jimin couldn’t handle it. He needed to kick a chair or something, or kiss him again and again until their lips bruised.

While Jimin’s too busy staring at him with lovestruck eyes, Jungkook rambles on, “I was scared, you know. You sure did take your time figuring things out - by the way, fuck you - and I thought you probably didn’t feel the same way once I realized it was New Year's Eve already. Tae’s probably annoyed with me for freeloading his stuff. I mean, I kinda drank all the whiskey last night, and he wouldn’t stop giving me the stink eye. He’s really scary when he’s, um. Deprived of his alcoholic needs.” Then, his mouth stretches into a wide smile, eyes crinkling and slight dimples showing, “I’m just - I’m really, really happy. I like you a lot, hyung.”

“I - I like you a lot too, you - you nerd,” Jimin sputters, weakly punching Jungkook in the chest. The action elicits an amused laugh from him, and Jimin finds himself smiling.

“Hey,” Jungkook tugs at his hands, asking eagerly, “Can I kiss you?”

Jimin blinks, “I - sure? But can you at least brush your teeth first - “

Jungkook doesn’t let him finish as soon as he leans forward and presses his mouth against his. It’s a quick kiss, close-lipped and soft, and before Jimin can kiss back, Jungkook is already leaning back and grinning at him, cheeks pink, “Oops! I slipped. Sorry.”

They break into giggles, Jimin shoving him and Jungkook shoving him back, until Taehyung interrupts them by marching past his bedroom with the world’s most ridiculous bedhead hair. He looks considerably distraught and grumpy as he shoves a backpack into Jungkook’s arms and began kicking them out, “Great, great! Fucking finally, thank you, now please! Go away and stop drinking all my alcohol! Git!”

Taehyung slams the door on them, the both of them idling outside of his apartment.

“We can, uh. Continue when we go back home,” Jimin shrugs.

Jungkook nods, not bothering to hide his excitement, “Awesome! I have two packs of gum and a bottle of lube - “

“Not that!” Jimin exclaims in horror, using a foot to kick him on the ass as he chases Jungkook out of the apartment, leaving behind a trail of laughter.

“Ow - hey! I was joking,” Jungkook jerks his shoulder away, but then he takes his hand, grinning uncontrollably that makes Jimin’s chest bloom with endless warmth. And Jimin can’t help but smile fondly.

Jimin isn’t petty, but maybe it wasn’t so much of a bad thing after all. This probably wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t been petty.

Perhaps he’ll end up thanking his brother for being a competitive asshole after all.