Chapter Text
Playfully bumping his shoulder into yours, Jungkook speeds by you on the bright digital racetrack currently taking up the majority of your view and all of your attention. He lets out a whoop of glee, drowning out your groan of dismay. You grit your teeth, trying your best to ignore him, skillfully drifting around the next corner in what you know will be a futile attempt at gaining some ground. You know you've already lost - each time Jungkook has pulled ahead to take the lead you haven't once been able to take it back. This is no exception.
You've won a fair share of the games you had played against Jungkook, causing him to clench his jaw in annoyance at you, which is totally satisfying for some reason. But this is the tie breaker, the last game of the night, and both of you are rather competitive. Especially when it comes to each other. Of course, it had been Jungkook's idea to make a bet on this last match, and you, thinking more highly of your gaming skills than you probably should've, had dumbly agreed.
Groaning, you set your controller down on the glass table, waiting for Jungkook's typical gloating to ensue. You have to admit, it's kind of cute, the way he smiles, so very pleased with himself, then teases you for being such trash. Okay, maybe that last part isn't so cute, but you really can't find it in you to be too upset about it. You basically are the same when it comes to lording it over him whenever you manage to win.
"Guess you're doing the dishes for a whole week!" Jungkook goads, his tone of voice a bit too gleeful. It makes you feel like smothering him, just a little, just enough so that he closes his mouth and lets you leave with some form of dignity. "You thought you had me," he explains, as if you don't know why you had lost, "around the second bend. I could tell you were starting to relax a little because it was the last lap, but you let your guard down too early."
"I know," you reply, sighing, feeling a bit sulky. You sink back against the couch and look away from the giant flashing letters spelling out 'Winner' on Jungkook's side of the screen, sticking your lip out in a rather obvious pout.
"Are you seriously pouting right now? You know that's not going to work on me, right?" Jungkook says, very matter-of-factly, looking at you in amusement paired with a raised brow. You stick your lip out further, knowing full well that it can totally work with Jungkook under the right circumstances, no matter how much he denies it. You aren't beneath a little whining or groveling either, if it means not having to do Bangtan's dishes for a week straight.
"You're manipulating me," Jungkook notes, looking away briefly to exit the game and turn off the console. You've both been given an earful about forgetting to do so enough times that it's good at least Jungkook has remembered to shut it down.
"Is it working?" you respond, batting your eyelashes at him.
"No," he tells you, setting his controller down on the table beside yours. They probably need to charge, but that's not your problem.
"Please," you whine, "don't make me."
"Hey, you made the deal," says Jungkook, rolling his eyes at how dramatic you are being. He nudges your knee with his leg and adds, "If you didn't want to do the dishes you should've just won."
Huffing out a breath, you turn your head away from him, folding your arms over your chest and saying, "You're a meanie." You're still pouting of course, because... well, because Jungkook lets you, and sometimes it's just nice to be playful and silly and overly dramatic.
"I am not," his voice is somewhat incredulous when he says it. Jungkook pokes at your side with his index finger and it makes you jump, glaring at him in response. He pokes you again, this time on the other side.
"Jungkook, don't you dare," you warn, grabbing at his index finger before he can do it again. He gives you an innocent look, his big brown doe eyes doing a better job than yours ever could at looking wide and devoid of guilt. He wants to tickle you, you can tell, and you hate that he does with a fiery passion. Turning his body fully toward you, Jungkook's other hand darts out to poke you in the rib. You let out an involuntary laugh and he takes it as an invitation to do it again.
"Nooo, stop, please," you beg as he ruthlessly tickles you, avoiding your batting hands and poking your sides with an ease that frustrates you and that you wish he didn't possess.
"I just want to see you smile, but you just keep. pouting. at. me." he emphasizes each word with another poke to your stomach, a huge grin spreading across his face. Jungkook shuffles forward more, his knees ending up pressed on either side of you. You let out another laugh, trying to swat him away, because you really hate being tickled.
"Jungkook," you say again, this time more firmly, a warning in an attempt to persuade him to stop tickling you. You reach out and snatch his right finger in your hand, saying, "Aha!" but the other finger is still free. Your eyes are trained on it, waiting for movement so that you can try and catch it too, hopefully putting an end to Jungkook's unprompted tickle fest.
That's why you don't at all expect Jungkook's face to suddenly move in toward yours, his lips capturing your mouth softly. It lasts all of seconds before he pulls back, looking at you unfocused, his expression lost and unsure about what he's just done.
"What was that?" you ask, voice tentative, staring into Jungkook's face. Realizing you're still holding onto his finger, you release your grip, hands instinctively going around your middle to protect it after all that poking. Pushing his hand through his hair, Jungkook slides some of it back and out of his face, and it's as if you can see the cogs of his brain spinning full force, trying to come up with some reason that justifies kissing you.
"I-I-honestly don't know," he finally tells you, looking away from you, a light pink spreading up his neck and onto his face. "Can we just pretend that didn't happen?"
Immediately nodding in agreement, you let out a quick, "uh-huh." You don't even know what else to say. Jungkook had kissed you. You feel like you've dropped into some sort of alternate reality. "I should head home anyway, it's really late," you tell him, "I'll be back tomorrow to do those darn dishes."
Jungkook gets up off the couch and puts his hand out to help you up, but then quickly pulls back, maybe thinking better of it. You ignore his odd, jerky movements and head to the foyer to put your things on and leave.
"You don't actually have to," Jungkook says sheepishly. Distracted, trying to shove your arms through your coat without the sleeves of your shirt riding up your arms, you're unsure of what Jungkook is talking about.
"What?" you ask, slipping your feet into your boots and then bending down to tie them.
"You don't have to do the dishes," he expounds, leaning against the wall and tucking both hands into his pant pockets, his hair falling back into his face as if the earlier hand pushing it back had been of no use at all.
Scoffing at him, you turn to face him, saying, "I'll be back to do them, I keep my word."
This makes him laugh, quiet so he doesn't wake the whole place up, but it's genuine, his nose scrunching up and reminding you of a bunny.
"Night, loser," Jungkook teasingly says as you leave the dorm, locking the door behind you. You turn around and flip him the bird, even though you know he won't see it unless he looks through the peep-hole in the door, and then head out of the building.