Archive of Our Own ^beta

“No dimwit, I was assigned class President. It says it right there!”

“Nooo, she put my name on this month’s spreadsheet. See!” Jungkook insisted, hiking his big, thick rimmed black glasses further up the bridge of his nose before swiftly turning around and pointing towards a sheet of paper clipped to the wall, all with a list of names. 

But Kim Taehyung wasn’t having it. Ever since the beginning of sixth grade, he was set on achieving this goal to make his parents proud — it’s what he’s been aiming for this entire year, it’s what he’s been hoping for ever since he had his eyes set on the opportunity that was freely given to him. 

And he surely wasn’t going to let it all go that easily. Not if he could help it. 

Fists clenching together and nails digging into those very palms that had approximately twenty layers of the same Bath and Body Works lavender hand sanitizer lathered onto it religiously every single day, Taehyung angrily marched up to Jungkook and delicately poked a finger into the other boy’s chest — flinging him backwards slightly (which came as a surprise since he barely applied any pressure at all). 

Jungkook stumbled backwards, untamed bushy eyebrows now furrowed together furiously as his classmate dared even touch him. Especially when this was a brand new shirt too and he didn’t want Taehyung’s sticky, crumby fingers infecting the clean, new fabric. 

That was just unsanitary.

He opened his mouth to speak, a whole persuasive argument prepared to wow the crowd away on why he should be class President, and not this other inexperienced and clueless newbie. 

But even before he could do that, Taehyung seemed to beat him to it, calling the teacher’s name as a cry for help (and to perhaps disperse the thick tension and clear the air a bit between them). 

“Miss—” 

“ Both of you were chosen as class presidents, actually.” 

Both Taehyung and Jungkook whipped their heads around at the sound of their teacher’s calm, gentle voice filling the room around them, faces struck with such ghastly horror that even their teacher was taken aback by how … deeply offended they both seemed by the statement, when she thought it was merely a fair compromise. 

But who knew compromises, which were supposed to be of the most fairest of rules, could result in the total opposite? By tearing both sides apart even more until all seams in their relationship were unfixable to mend, and by drowning them both in such an overwhelming amount of pure indignation stemmed from the very root of equality — inexplicably enough. 

They were both beyond repulsed to be put on the same podium as the other, the same highest of gold yet at the same exact level as a fellow classmate that they both grew to hate dearly. 

It simply wasn’t fair. Their teacher was so obsessed with the idea of fairness that it backfired completely, contradicting her very motives when going forth with this (failed) plan. 

“ What!?” They both exclaimed perplexingly, feeling ashamed, humiliated, violated — that both their individual beings were being merged into one blindly without the ability to tell them apart and declare one as the true winner. 

It was just plain out insulting. It was like stripping away their uniqueness from them, simmering them both down to this … certain image that neither Taehyung nor Jungkook even consensually agreed with nor consulted to. 

And it wasn’t just making them out to be something they weren’t, it was making them out to be the same person that they couldn’t help but despise greatly, all because they despised each other. 

Being compared to your class enemy or academic and athletic rival wasn’t all too ideal in their highly biased, but still valid, opinions. Especially when it came to as important of achievements as this; that meant the absolute world to them and meant that they’d receive compliment upon compliment and praise upon praise until their cheeks were flushed and sore from smiling so damn much, it simply lost its significance because you know another person was being seen in that same exact light. 

But what did they know? They were only twelve years of age and still young in their prime years of middle school with maturity surely on the road ahead of them. 

Maybe they were just being dramatic. 

But still, an outsider’s mature perspective couldn’t downplay two young teenagers’ feelings towards something they were both rightfully eager to earn for themselves. 

Their teacher nodded, sighing lowly as she took a seat on the edge of one of the classroom desks, briefly pulling her glasses over the top of her head so that they rested on her curly brown hair perfectly, “I just thought both of you would be a good match for the job, and it was hard picking one over the other.” She explained, giving them both ‘that’ look that neither could try to ignore without feeling guilty shivers crawl up their back.

“But,” she continued, holding her words confidently in the air, “that shouldn’t be a problem right? Since both of you got what you wanted in the end.” 

Sure, it should make sense. It should make perfect sense. 

But that’s not how their mindsets worked, they didn’t exuberantly thrive day by day knowing that someone else was practically sharing their same role.

Because if you put the situation in a whole other scenario that was ten times more drastic than this one, one would easily see how the two students were infuriated by this so-called “fair” arrangement. 

Like if everyone living on Earth got assigned an important role in their local or National government, then it wouldn’t be celebrated on the news nor seen as great of an achievement since everyone else had a position similar to it.

So while equality was hypothetically good, it still in their minds’ watered down their achievements and didn’t make them feel as special as they should’ve been. 

They didn’t want to be put in a box. They wanted to be able to spread their wings and soar as freely as they wished; as freely as the stars would let them. 

And of course, they couldn’t necessarily argue with the teacher unless they wished to receive a detention or some conduct referral, hence why the meekly bowed their heads and apologized for causing any unnecessary dispute, before exiting the classroom with their bookbags slung over their shoulders sloppily. 

“Just so you know,” Jungkook whispered, nudging Taehyung in the side to get the boy’s attention, “I’m gonna be a way better class President than you.” 

Taehyung halted in his steps, suddenly enraged that Jungkook could just propose such a preposterous statement out of the blue, completely unprovoked especially when Taehyung himself remained quiet about all of it. 

But Jeon Jungkook wasn’t going to get off that easily, nor was Kim Taehyung going to let his guard down and give Jungkook the benefit of the doubt — making him believe that he would suit the role better.

Not without some competition first. 

“Oh yeah?” Taehyung challenged, broadening up his posture as his teeth dug into his bottom lip aggressively — trying to assert some kind of dominance to intimidate Jungkook (which wasn’t working), “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see then won’t we?” 

Jungkook’s tongue poked into the side of his gums, considering Taehyung’s words carefully before agreeing with a nod of his head, “Yeah, guess we will.” 

And with that the two students dismissed each other, respectively dipping their heads and parting ways down opposite halls — not having any single clue of the future  hardships, complications, and challenges that would stretch far beyond petty middle school drama. 

But perhaps it was best to stay oblivious and naive in the clouds for now, since there was no use dreaming up scenarios even if those dreams turned into spot-on predictions. 

Ignorant bliss could spare them for now. But even if their innocent, starry-eyed perspectives on the world that came out as fragmented rainbows through their own little glass lenses with golden, large wonky rims could temporarily blur their vision protectively from the potential dangers that lay ahead — their eyes would eventually outgrow the prescription, and come face to face with the realization that a silly debate over who would be a better candidate for class or even student President was nothing compared to lung-suffocating tension that would only develop if their eyes continued to deceive them. 

So they walked away, bickers from their left behind childhood slowly slipping from their very fingers without a single clue of what would develop from those few dust fragments that got away — fortuitously enchanting their future with something larger than ingenuous foolishness. 

-———— SEVEN YEARS LATER ————

“Two to two!”

Kim Taehyung frantically scanned his eyes across the soccer field, scoping out his team players which sported the same navy uniform as he did — heart pounding against his chest as panic arose, while the brisk autumn air cruelly ripped his lungs apart to shreds before he could even get a steady hold on the ball below him. 

All they needed was one more goal to score that last winning point for their team — and then victory would be claimed as theirs. 

He just needed to make that happen, and all it took was passing the ball to a nearby striker so that they could hopefully (fingers crossed) kick the ball into the enemy’s net. 

Carefully, he guided the ball with his foot and passed it over to another defense player, still never letting the ball out of his sight even when it was out of his possession. 

Pressure. All he felt was pressure. 

He was crumbling under it as the referee called out the final two minute mark — closing their second half of the game to an end once one of the teams made that last goal to break the tie and wear that gold crown proudly. 

Droplets of sweat beaded down his face, the tiniest of waterfalls that even the crisp, chilly breeze couldn’t cool in time, as it was far out of Mother Nature’s control to do so. 

But regardless of how disgustingly sweaty his clothes got to the point where they were drenched and smelled of sour odor, or regardless of how abnormally fast his lungs gave out over and over again only able to withdraw sharp, quick breaths with every meter he travelled across the field, or regardless of how intensely his nerves tripled every time their referee called out a shorter time mark than before — he was still determined to win, a clear ambition dazzling in those tired, but keen and sharp eyes. 

  “Go Eagles! WOOOOO!” 

Taehyung swiftly looked behind him, eyes landing on the cheerleading team that usually accompanied them at their most important soccer games. And since this one was conveniently one of the last of the season, they had triumphant shouts and hollers to further encourage their absolute best performance when competing. 

And while he did overall appreciate the motivating screams and chants that came with it, he couldn’t help but dwell on one certain cheerleader in the squad; or the captain, more specifically.

It wasn’t too common that the cheer squad attended games on the sidelines, but when they did even Taehyung couldn’t help but notice a certain pattern in his behavior and performance — or how it drastically changed his usual strategies when playing. 

But god, he just couldn’t help but become disgusted with himself at how quickly his entire mindset or view of this person could change with one single go, like all it took was something so minor and specific for that flame of fury to be replaced with a dangerously uncontrollable inferno of salacious desires. 

Hell, he hated this person, despised this person with every fucking cell in his body. Every fiber, every bone, every organ was consumed up of pure hatred over these past ten years of knowing of their existence — but as soon as they showed up with big blue Pom Poms and a skirt shorter than his will to live and a crop top higher than his determination to win the final season for soccer, it was like all those organs holding that intense loathing deflated along with it, leaving nothing but an unidentifiable fiery one to remain.

And shit, maybe he shouldn’t have turned around. Maybe he should’ve just gotten a hold of himself and concentrated on the actual game like he’s been doing for the past eighty eight minutes. 

But of course when they were down to the last two, he was suddenly lost in thought; his eyes making decisions before his logic could. 

But there was no turning back now, as there ever was. 

He didn’t even know why Jungkook appealed to him in this way when he hadn’t before the second half of high school. He didn’t know why he got these random bursts of heat flaming up his cheeks every time the guy talked sarcastically with him — as if there was this underlying indication that Jungkook was flirting with him when that clearly was not the case.

Or at least, that’s what Taehyung fought so hard to believe when he played Jungkook’s teases off to be ridiculings, or that light flirtatious tongue as a shortage of breath when they would be bickering for minutes on end about the stupidest of things. 

And shit. Not even one of the most important games of the year could turn his head back to the main focus of the game or have him return to his duty on defense, not when Jungkook made eye contact with him across the field and winked at him — something along the lines of a coquettish fire blazing inside those deceitful eyes. 

Taehyung was already long gone. His breathing cut short so that not even the breeze could sustain him any longer, his palms sweat nervously, mind turned into utter panic mode and frolicking in pure havoc and ruin, and his face was beginning to flush a faint crimson from something other than weariness or exhaustion.

And even though they were across the field, Taehyung could already see that satisfied smirk on Jungkook’s face as his eyes darkened mischievously, as if he knew exactly what he was doing.

And Taehyung knew goddam well of it too. 

Especially when Jungkook took the extra, very unnecessary step in “adjusting” his skirt by hiking it up a bit more on his waist, never losing eye contact with Taehyung during it all. 

God, the poor guy felt guilty for not only standing there like an idiot instead of helping his teammates on the field (who desperately needed it), but he felt guilty for staring this poor guy down — despite how much he took a dislike to him. 

But before he could convince himself to return back to defense, his teammates were already yelling commands at him, voices he recognized as his best friends but ones that had only entered his ears as quiet echoes while he was stuck in whatever kind of trance he had been consumed in previously. 

“ Tae! Tae! Get the ball!” 

And just like that, Taehyung snapped back into reality, forgetting about the cheerleading captain's heavily attractive attire before snapping his head around, eyes widening like saucers once he saw the opposing team enter his left side of the field. 

“Shit,” he mumbled under his breath, instantly switching his game mode flip back on before dashing towards the soccer ball as quickly as his feet could possibly take him. 

His teammates’ voices were filtered out as background noise, coming out as nothing more audible than aggressive blabbering or mumbles that he couldn’t get a clear distinction on even if he tried. 

But god he ran. He ran and ran and ran, and on that last and final stretch where the strikers on the opposite team were this close to kicking the ball in Taehyung’s team’s net, he quickly shot his foot out, pinching his eyes shut not ready to know whether his block was successful or not. 

Yet when he suddenly tripped over another player’s foot — falling down to his crash landing fate right on his ass and heard the other team celebrate in triumph rather than fall into a state of agonizing grief, that’s when his senses told him that his team wasn’t proclaimed as winner. 

So he sat there in confusion, feeling the stinging aches crawl up his skin and poison every joint in his body with disappointment towards himself — which only contributed to that entire web of self-deprecation and physical agony. 

He winced harshly, face screwing up tightly as he felt the same cool breeze that had been present during the entire game brush past him — as if it was consoling him that letting down your team all because of a cute cheerleader whom you hated was okay and completely acceptable, when it most definitely wasn’t. 

In the midst of his own little pity party, fingers still clawing at the artificial grass that made up their playing fields as if that would help distinguish any of the pain he was mostly feeling in his heart and ass bone, his two closest of friends — Seokjin and Yoongi, approached him slowly, from what he could see at least from his very low ground-level of things. 

And hell, he had never been more thankful to see muddy, run down and partly torn apart soccer shoes in his life; two of which he recognized in a heartbeat. 

Slowly, he dragged his eyes upwards, coming face to face with two empathetic and slightly confused yet all-knowing expressions on his friends’ faces, like they secretly knew everything. 

That’s what scared him the most. 

Taehyung awkwardly darted his eyes all around the place, jumping from player to player and person to person who stood in the bleachers — who all waited for the person they were waiting for to go out and meet them. 

“Tae,” Yoongi spoke up, voice soothingly blanketing the air around them with a clam stillness that, surprisingly enough, made Taehyung relax under the extreme wave of guilt he was already feeling, “c’mon, get up.” 

With his eyes settled on plucked up pieces of grass that somehow detached from the ground below him, Taehyung huffed stubbornly before eventually surrendering his hands so both Yoongi and Seokjin could take one each — hoisting him up off the ground in one swift motion. 

“That was … that was probably my fault, wasn’t it,” Taehyung mumbled, following his friends’ leads towards the forming line where they’d have to high five the other teams’ hands and wish a monotonous good game to each other that really had the emotions of a slowly perishing robot behind it and the sincerity of a wanted criminal. 

Both Seokjin and Yoongi exchanged hesitant looks with each other, communicating on a decision through their unspoken language of telepathy, since it was better to spare their best friend’s feelings than admit the cruel truth that would do absolutely nothing in return. 

“Nahhhhhh,” Seokjin played off, waving a hand in front of his face as he slowly moved up into the line, “the goalie just didn’t do their fair share in blocking the ball. Don’t weigh it all on yourself.” 

While Taehgung did appreciate the reassurance (A for Effort, right), there was an uncharacteristic … phoniness … underlying it, which immediately told him that Seokjin wasn’t being one hundred percent honest with him.

Honestly, he wasn’t all too surprised since he knew what both Seokjin and Yoongi were like and just how sincere of people they both were, even if they showed their sincerity through the most insincere ways possible. 

Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, Taehyung gave both his friends a rather unconvinced look before going down the line and muttering an even more insincere “good game” which were probably more insincere than Seokjin’s horribly lying technique. 

“Jin, I think he knows you’re lying,” Yoongi whispered from behind Seokjin, making sure to lower his voice so that only Seokjin would be able to hear. Which hopefully wouldn’t be too difficult since Taehyung was ahead of them both in the alternating line. 

Seokjin brushed it off, briefly turning around to silently reassure Yoongi that all was well, “A little bit of lying never hurt anyone.”

“Yeah, except when he’s clearly not buying it, dumbass!” Yoongi scolded under his breath, nudging Seokjin in the side as they filed out of the line, all players dispersing among the field and bleachers to their respected family members and friends who came to cheer them on. 

Rolling his eyes, Seokjin sarcastically murmured back, “My bad — pissbaby.” 

Taehyung arched an eyebrow, hearing the few words here and there of his friends’ discourse before turning around sharply on the heels of his sneakers and approaching them both with a crossed look on his face, “Who’s the pissbaby? And why are you guys fighting?” 

Both Yoongi and Seokjin, now caught off guard entirely, halted in their tracks abruptly — too scared to speak or use the last of their breath uselessly fibbing out the weakest of lies, which Taehyung already seemed rather unconvinced about anyways. 

“Uhhhhh,” they both hummed in unision, nervously scattering their eyes everywhere else but Taehyung’s expectant face, “Yoongi’s the pissbaby!” Seokjin announced on a whim, pointing an accusing finger at Yoongi who now looked completely taken aback at the blame (even though it was true, at least according to Seokjin). 

“What!?” Yoongi scoffed in disbelief, slapping a hand to his heart as he angrily scanned a punchable place on Seokjin’s face (which was everywhere, in his humble opinion). 

Seokjin shrugged simply, nodding in satisfaction before running his fingers through Yoongi’s already disheveled hair sloppily and quickly abandoning his place beside him before running up to Taehyung and throwing an arm around him instead.

Yoongi wasn’t so happy about that. But he digressed and dragged his feet roughly against the ground to catch up with them. 

“Anyways, Taehyung,” Seokjin began, cleverly disguising his smugness with genuine curiosity with this upcoming inquiry, though Taehyung could already sense that something was up, “I noticed you got a bit distracted earlier. Was it because of —”

“We will not be talking about that here,” Taehyung hissed hostilely before Seokjin could even finish, bringing his lips up to his friend’s ears so that there was no chance of anyone else hearing it for miles around. 

Especially when the culprit himself was still very much present, and very much casting a devious gaze on Taehyung’s slowly wobbling figure as he and his two other soccer friends made their way down the field and towards their disregarded bags on the designated side of the bleachers for their team. 

But since Taehyung was fully engrossed in this enlightening conversation with his friends, Jungkook felt no need to hide his pride — not shameful to let the world see how easily he had Kim Taehyung twirled around his finger just like that. 

“Uhhhhh what are you looking at?” Hoseok asked, trying to pinpoint what was so fascinating about a sweaty and gross smelling group of young men who just got done playing a soccer game — nonetheless losing it of all things. 

Neither seemed all that appealing, but Jungkook was all up for surprises anyways. 

Not bothering to turn around, Jungkook settled with a simple, “Taehyung.” 

“Ah,” Hoseok hummed, as if that explained everything perfectly although Jungkook staring at Taehyung in his free time wasn’t all that outlandish of a concept either, “why may I ask?” 

“Becaussseeeeeee,” their other friend on the cheerleading team, Jimin, cut in, quickly scurrying up to them both and bringing them in with hands on both of their shoulders, “they both have the hots for each other, duh! Can you not see it? It’s uncanny at this point.” He giggled all-knowingly, also ignoring Jungkook’s agitated glare that could probably pierce through his soul if he concentrated enough. 

Now, Jungkook wouldn’t necessarily call it, the hots. 

Metaphorically speaking yes, technically speaking no. 

If you were choosing to abide by the metaphorical, figurative definition where any noun or adjective or feeling remotely close to the words “hot” then one would naturally think of intimate, sensual terms such as any sex related ones, or just anything that had to do with something so dashingly attractive that it drove a person absolutely wild. 

That, that was something Jungkook couldn’t deny, even if he tried, and his friends knew of it too. 

Ever since their last years of high school, starting around the end of junior year and the very beginning of senior year until eventually branched into college as well, Taehyung and Jungkook’s little competitive relationship remained the same in the actual argumentative sense, but drastically changed in the actual… motives behind it. 

Was it really because they wanted to tick the other off as much as possible in order to ruin their day, or did they go out of their way to fight and bicker all day long in such a teasing and subtly flirtatious way to get the other riled up and obviously flustered just for the fun of it? 

Love, or in this sense, flirting without feelings, had an interesting way of curling itself around every situation, intertwining its devilish tail until the spikes at the end of it jabbed into every so-called menacing threat and labeled it as something much much different, which may or may not have been something along the lines of purposely sexual innuendos. 

Honestly at this point after having to deal with this same suffocating tension for the past two years, Jungkook didn’t know what to make of it. 

While he did know that their daily arguments were driven from an unexplainable determination to make the other flustered (at least in his case), he was much more blind to the motive behind that, reasoning that it was just him growing into this new mold of himself that allowed him to explore the dark underwater caves and caverns of the deep sea known as using your flirtatious skills to your greatest advantage. 

Was that wrong? He didn’t think so. Jungkook figured that since Taehyung showed clear mutual signs of this behavior then his own were justifiable. 

If not, then Taehyung could kiss his ass since he wouldn’t particularly be opposed to such anyways.   

All jokes, of course. 

Tuning back into the conversation after zoning out for some time now, Jungkook denied the claim profusely, ignoring how his own cheeks heated up at the bold statement, “I most definitely do not, so both of you be quiet and mind your own damn business.” 

“Can’t really mind our own business when your business becomes our business the second you start gushing about Taehyung’s strong leg muscles the other day when we were watching them play!” Hoseok rebutted, locking stares with Jungkook who seemed unamused by it all, not wanting any in on the joke since it all hit a bit too personal for his liking.

He didn’t like how his friends were slowly piecing it together, nor coming closer and closer to exposing something that he didn’t even know about himself yet. 

It was all too risky, and he’d rather figure it all out himself than his friends get involved in his very complicated … relationship — if you will. 

Even the word relationship itself made him squirm since he wouldn’t necessarily refer to it as that, but more as a highly competitive acquaintanceship that’s been continuously going on for the past decade or so, stemming from the very roots of their childhood until it eventually blossomed into whatever complicated mess this was. 

“I just have an admiration for guys with muscles. It has nothing to do with Taehyung. I hate that son of a bitch, he’s annoying, arrogant, and thinks all almighty of himself just because he uses some fancy Prada spray as cologne which doesn’t even smell that good in the first place,” he affirmed, glancing back towards the field where Taehyung and his friends were mostly out of sight by now before turning back towards his friends — who both sported concerned and appalled expressions. 

Raising an eyebrow quizzically, Jungkook followed up with a stumped, “What?” 

“Uhhhhhhhh,” Jimin murmured, hesitantly side-eyeing Hoseok before focusing in on Jungkook once more, “how do you even know that Taehyung wears Prada cologne?” 

“Or that it smells bad,” Hoseok continued skeptically, scanning Jungkook’s guilty face for an answer which he sadly was not able to receive just yet. Perhaps in a few more tries after more trial and error. 

Jungkook poked his tongue into the side of his gums, shifting around in his shoes uncomfortably as if they were going to offer an possible escape to this very sticky situation which he did not want to be in right now. 

And for several reasons at that, which would all remain disclosed until he worked up to tell his friends about the … arrangements … he and Taehyung made behind the scenes. 

Though he did feel slightly guilty for not letting his friends in on it, he also knew that he wasn’t obliged to tell them about every small, minor thing happening in his life — since he did have a right to privacy after all. 

Plus, the time would come when the time would come, and that time was most certainly not now. 

Because even Jungkook himself didn’t know why he ever made the agreement with Taehyung in the first place or how it all happened at all; that night all those months ago was a blur and a hazy, foggy barely rememberable memory stored in the back of his brain where he could barley make any sense out of it.

Maybe it was because both of them had been under the slight influence of alcohol (only to the point where they were tipsy so they could consciously consent to it) at the time, or maybe it was because of all the added on tension over the years that made then act upon those desirable urges that even they hadn’t been aware of at the time. 

But ever since then, it surely seemed like something had flipped inside him entirely — him and Taehyung both. 

Whether it be the exact thing he had been fearing all along, he didn’t know. All he knew was that dwelling on it would only make matters worse or possibly manifest it into reality — which was something he certainly didn’t want happening, no excuses. 

So Jungkook didn’t answer, knowing that it would probably end up making his friends even more suspicious than before but he also knew that by giving himself a chance to make up a last minute lie also possibly meant in accidentally giving away any clues or hints. Hence, why he reckoned that silence was the best way to go. 

Instead, he grabbed his duffel bag off the stands and walked off, waving a feeble goodbye to Hoseok and Jimin who just stood there cluelessly, trying to comprehend it all with all the confusion wreaking pure and utter mayhem in their mind right about now. 

“Anyways, I’ll see you guys later!” Jungkook called as he skipped down the bleachers and jumped the last three, landing on both feet as his short tennis skirt fluttered up slightly before settling back down again. 

“Uh… bye?” Hoseok excused, more questionably than anything as he slowly brought up a hand to make an attempt at returning Jungkook’s goodbye, though that seemed pointless already since their captain had already left the scenes, jogging off to god knows where. 

Jimin pursed his lips together in thought, slowly turning to Hoseok who still seemed rather dazed from all of it, “Any clue what that was all about?”

“No idea,” Hoseok sighed, slumping his shoulders and giving up entirely as he went to fetch his own cheerleading bag, “I’m gonna go catch up with Yoongi so I’ll —” 

“I don’t wanna hear anything about what you and Yoongi will be doing later today. Keep that to yourself, please and thank you,” Jimin shuddered, desperately trying to set aside the horrible and severely unwanted imagery that had just entered his mind — ruining the rest of his day without a doubt. 

“— See you later,” Hoseok huffed, continuing his sentence and lightly hitting Jimin on the shoulder for assuming such things when he hadn’t even said anything specific enough to provoke it in the first place, “you dirty-minded little bitch!” 

Jimin quickly retrieved his own bag, swinging it over his shoulder before saluting Hoseok a goodbye and jumping over the bleacher railing onto the track below them, a good three foot drop that had Hoseok nearly scared shitless of how Jimin’s bones were all still perfectly intact, “It’s not anything y’all haven’t done before!” 

Hoseok’s cheeks tinted a deep strawberry red, as the urge to suddenly pounce Jimin became all too strong and overpowering to ignore any longer. 

That was clearly his private business between him and Yoongi, but of course Jimin, being the shameless little ass he is, couldn’t give two shits about that unspoken rule. 

And before Hoseok could actually get a start on beating the living shit out of his best friend, Jimin had already run off, dodging past any remaining soccer players or supportive attendees that were more than likely here against their own will.

Which, in result, left two separate souls dashing off to find their own lovers; one of which wouldn’t quite consider their “acquaintance” anything near the term that they deemed as heavily inaccurate to their relationship, but all in all people who could satisfy their needs in more ways than one.

Definitely, more ways than one. 

———————

“So,” Taehyung gasped breathlessly, thrusting inside Jungkook at a relentless pace, “you said — you said your friends almost found out about us huh?” 

Jungkook gulped nervously, sweat beading down his forehead as overwhelming amounts of pleasure flooded through his system, making both his mind and body spasm out of control over how abnormally good it felt.

“Well — I mentioned how you wear Prada perfume, and they asked me how I knew that,” he admitted shamefully, shifting his position on Taehyung’s dorm room bed slightly, “I mean, I didn’t tell them obviously but they might suspect something — oh my g-god!”

“Interesting,” Taehyung commented, clearly intrigued on how the topic of Prada cologne even came up in the first place or why Jungkook had mentioned that about him. He was flattered to say the least, and was definitely planning on using it to his advantage when the time came.

Jungkook hummed slowly, pleased whimpers teasing at the base of his throat as he rocked his hips in synch with Taehyung’s paced thrusts, both guiding each other like complimentary pieces of a puzzle, even if that’s the exact opposite of what they felt like most of the time; being repelling opposites and all. 

Or maybe they were much more similar than they first thought, but stubbornness easily got in the way of logical thinking. 

“If I may ask, Jeon ,” Taehyung whispered lowly, lowering himself more deeply into Jungkook’s prostate as uncontrollable moans followed from the cheerleader below him, “how did the topic of my preferred cologne come into the conversation? Would you care to tell me or is that confidential information?”

“Confidential information,” Jungkook squeaked stubbornly, gasping pleasurably as a multitude of stars suddenly filled his vision luminously — feeling his high  slowly coming to an end hence taking advantage of the last few moments of it and bouncing on Taehyung’s dick, experimenting with which angles benefited the both of them best, “sorry Captain.”

Taehyung threw his head back, mentally cursing Jungkook out for using that goddam name on him, since the little shit knew fully well what he was doing when saying it. 

“But,” Jungkook toyed airily, rolling his hips back and forth, “wanna explain to me why you were checking me out on the field during your big game?” 

Taehyung gritted his teeth, trying to resist the urge to curse the living hell out of Jungkook before realizing that he couldn’t just do that — not now, and probably not ever even if he wanted to. 

“You just … ” Taehyung heaved, helping Jungkook ride the last of his high as he stroked up and down Jungkook’s dick and applied pressure at its slit, enjoying jow Jungkook squirmed prettily below him and hummed the most beautiful of harmonies ever known to man, “you look rather pretty in skirts, that’s all Koo.” 

And something blazed in Jungkook’s heart that day. Something far behind the power of lust or feeling turned on because of their current situation and positioning, it was a genuinely warm and fuzzy feeling that burned up against his sides and transferred into his cheeks prettily — casting a cherry blossom to bloom on the apple of it. 

Before Jungkook could even mutter back a response, his high quickly came to an end, hole closing in on Taehyung’s dick and finishing off their quick session with an astounding end, as usual. 

Hell, it only seemed to get better and better and even more pleasurable with every round; and Jungkook still tried to comprehend that very thought alone even when it was close to unfathomable already. 

Taehyung followed afterwards, the aftermath of the session coming into his condom as he slowly lowered himself down on the bed and rolled off of Jungkook, laying beside him so they were now on the same equal level. 

And as heavy, breathless pants filled the dormroom around them while they both rested on the bed in comfortable silence, Jungkook slowly gathered up the courage and turned his head towards Taehyung, a dainty smile curling onto his lips. 

“Hey Tae?” He spoke up softly after a while, grabbing Taehyung’s attention as he locked gazes with Jungkook, nearly gasping at how beautiful he looked under the dim lights of his dorm room at their university, face flushed and eyes dazzling with the usual fascination that normally came every time they hooked up. 

“Yeah?” 

“You said,” Jungkook paused, reconsidering his words again before dragging his eyes back up towards Taehyung’s, surprisingly enough gaining enough reassurance just from the star-struck look left sparkling in those gorgeous beauties of his, “you said I looked pretty in a skirt?” 

Taehyung nodded, knowing he couldn’t deny it even if his stubborn self wanted to. Not now, at least. 

Even though Taehyung didn’t give him a verbal response, Jungkook’s heart still leaped into his chest, an uncontrollable smile adorning his lips just like that even though he’d never ever imagine that receiving a compliment from someone he presumably hated would ever give him as much as a euphoric feeling as it did now.

Or maybe that’s what it made it more notable to begin with. 

A simple “Oh,” was all he could come up with, un-creatively enough, bashfully tearing his eyes away from Taehyung who was still very much focused on him. 

“Why? You surprised someone’s told you that?” Taehyung kidded, confident that at least ten other people had complimented the fact that Jungkook preferably chooses the female uniforms over the male ones when attending cheer meets and practices, since he totally rocked it. 

Jungkook turned his head to the ceiling, curly black hair sprawled out underneath him as his eyes faded in and out into heart shaped crescents with an lovesick spelled out all over them enchantment — brewed in a cauldron that predicted the most unexpected romances to blossom. 

“I mean, at least from you. I guess we haven’t always been on friendly terms so … hearing you say it was nice I guess,” he whispered shyly, somewhat hating how easily he gave into flattery that was probably half-assed anyways, knowing Taehyung it was — at least. 

Yet, when Taehyung slowly drew a hand up and padded his thumb against Jungkook’s right cheek, making the cheerleader turn his head to the side against the mattress and lock eyes once more, that’s when Jungkook could already tell that Taehyung truly did mean every word he said — all spoken with sincerity. 

“I am being serious though,” Taehyung confessed, breaking out of his character this one time and not letting his stubborn self ruin it, “it’s not like anything … sexual or … you know. Just, you really do look great it in and I admire how you wear one even if they’re technically not made for guys — or whatever bullshit. It’s stupid honestly.” 

Jungkook smiled tenderly, reaching his own hand up to gently grab Taehyung’s so they were now interlocked, a glow beaming through their touched palms from it, “Thank you, I wasn’t expecting that from you but — it does mean a lot, thank you.” 

Taehyung didn’t respond. Instead, they sat there in silence, quietly wondering to themselves what it would be like to just say fuck it and kiss each other, to ignore their rivalry, to ignore all childish amends that got them here in the first place, to just leave all of it behind and truly give them both something that they’d never dream on giving into.

But of course, dreams remain dreams and fantasies remain fantasies, and until real progress is made things would stay like that forever — until their hearts magnetically pulled them closer and closer to that goal that was still foreseeable in the future.

All they had to do was reach out and grasp it. 

————————-

Weeks came and went, overthinking sessions occurred on the daily, progress was made with accepting their feelings and then it backtracking all over again when they regressed with denial — times that by one hundred and fifty five. 

Ignore the unnecessarily big number, but it was a lot of going back and forth in between one end of the spectrum and another, over and over and over again until their hearts gave out and brains gave up on thinking completely. 

It was all too much for them, and their progress was weighed back down to zero everytime they debunked it with the stupidest fucking excuse as to why or how they could potentially be tricking themselves into feeling a certain way when they knew goddam well that they really did feel that way and that it wasn’t some foolishness that they were making it out to be. 

They were just too scared to admit it, too scared to adapt to change, too scared to tell their friends that their feelings for one another branched beyond a childish hatred that had been there since the beginning (but really melted away a while ago, they just didn’t want to admit it yet, like many other things). 

And deep down they knew what they wanted, they knew who they wanted.

They had always known; but there's a difference between knowing and accepting. And until you get rid of that mental block, it’s almost impossible to fully act upon those feelings and give into your hearts greatest desires. 

For a while, Taehyung had been convinced that his heart’s only desires were winning that end of the season trophy for one of his university’s soccer teams, because that had been his motive all his life: to eat, breathe, and sleep soccer until he was too physically exhausted to do so anymore. 

That same sport had always been at the top of his priorities, and always been embedded at the front of his mind in the fanciest of lettering and finest of gold, confirming it as the most important and only purpose in his life. 

Same went with Jungkook. Dance and cheerleading consumed his daily routine and left barely any time for anything else. But who knew that fate would still come in clutch at the end and satisfy them both by making them realize that they could easily balance extracurricular sports with a side hustle romance (if that’s what they even considered it, anyways). 

But now, as Taehyung passed the soccer ball to a fellow striker and helped score into the enemy’s goalie, he realized that he had already achieved everything he came here for, and now there was only one thing left to do. 

Jungkook sat in the front rows of the bleachers just as he had promised Taehyung days prior, exploding into shouts of ecstasy while calling out Taehyung’s name over and over again — not caring for any weird looks he could’ve gotten from nearby attendants since that was the least of his worries right now, nor was it was the reason as to why he was a actually here in the first place.

Well, he didn’t even need a given reason to go. He just wanted to. 

Even though his cheer team wasn’t scheduled to cheer on the sidelines for this one specific game, Jungkook still promised Taehyung he’d make it — no excuses. 

And when Taehyung looked up just after contributing to his team’s win, ignoring how Seokjin and Yoongi both immediately joined by his side and clambered onto him excitedly for now (though those gestures were for sure to be returned in the near future), he found his smile only widening once he saw Jungkook standing there on the bleachers just as promised — jumping up and down at Taehyung’s victorious win happily. 

Taehyung waved at him, acknowledging his presence graciously before turning towards both Seokjin and Yoongi and bringing them both in for a hug to signal off the last game of the season which they had thankfully secured the final victory for, at last. 

“Thank god Jungkook wasn’t cheering today, you probably would’ve fallen on your ass again and made us lose,” Yoongi snorted, not rethinking the possible consequences of bringing up that cursed moment (several moments) in time especially when it tied back to Taehyung being a let down for their team — even though that in itself wasn’t true in the slightest since he was unarguably one of the best players, being the captain and all. 

“Yoongi,” Taehyung firmed, backing away from the hug slightly so that Yoongi got a real good look at his face — which he thought looked intimidating though Yoongi found it anything but and felt rather comfortable there in the moment knowing he was safe, “I will not hesitate to tell Hoseok that you once fucked a toothbrush, and then he will most definitely break up with you because of that knowing that he’s touched a dick with Colgate toothpaste on it before.” 

Now that, that was low.

Yoongi had to admit, he didn’t have the proudest moments in his youth as a wild youngster — but hey, everyone starts from somewhere. Even if that somewhere involves riding a toothbrush because you were too inexperienced with giving yourself a handjob or properly fingering yourself back in the early days of high school. 

Dark dark times, and Yoongi physically cringed just with remembering the amount of unbearable pain he had to undergo because of it. 0/10, would definitely not do again. 

“You wanna know what Kim Taehyung? You try masturbating when your parents blocked pornhub off of your house WiFi.”

“And that’s why I read fanfiction instead, or bright idea! Just don’t resort to a fucking toothbrush!? There are so many better options than that —” 

“Alright,” Seokjin said, pulling apart the conversation, “I’m not sure how much more of this I can really take, plus there were some people looking over sooooo let’s stop! Shall we gentlemen?” He suggested, the most condescending of smiles inching into his lips which, thankfully for him and his sanity, succeeded in scaring Yoongi and Taehyung enough to where the conversation finally dwindled to an end. 

With murder on their minds and a villain origin story in the making, Yoongi and Taehyung respectively quit their antics and went to go celebrate with the rest of their team by accepting the grande trophy all together  and taking team photos for their last day together; at least for the rest of the year. 

And of course, not without paying a huge honorable speech to Taehyung, who had willingly taken up the challenge as team captain in just his second year of college, which was something most people would never be able to do (at least that’s what his coach said, unless he was bullshitting it all for the sake of soaring pitiful feelings and making overly corny speeches).

So their team weeped, cried, laughed, commemorating these last few moments together in every way imaginable before they were sent off for the season and set free to go to their families and friends who all waited for them at the stands. 

As Yoongi, Taehyung, and Seokjin separated from the bigger group, Yoongi and Seokjin discreetly nodded towards each other when Taehyung wasn’t looking to sign that their plan was in full bloom — even though all it consisted off was ditching Taehyung so he could get some alone time with Jungkook who sat waiting patiently at the bleachers along with Hoseok, Jimin, and another friend Namjoon whom both Yoongi and Seokjin knew as well, it was still something they were determined on making work. 

So without further ado, Seokjin waved over the other three on the bleachers all except for Jungkook of course, before turning towards Taehyung with a hand on his shoulder and saying, “We’re gonna all go hang for a bit, kay?” 

At first Taehyung didn’t think anything of it, but when he saw everyone but Jungkook file off the bleachers and walk away with Yoongi and Seokjin who only shot him teasing smirks in return, that’s when he realized what those sneaky bitches’ plans were all along. 

And shit, did it work. Fairly enough it didn’t even take much effort to trick Taehyung into something, but still he felt rather embarrassed at how quickly he could be fooled. 

Goddam, he really did fucking hate them sometimes, but those same exact reasons why he hated them were the very same ones as to why he loved them. 

Taehyung turned around frantically, nerves rising in his chest as he saw the rest of his friends abandon him here all alone with Jungkook unexpectedly, not even giving him any time to prepare mentally beforehand or time to think as to what their reason was behind this very suspicious plan of theirs. 

And if it was what he was thinking, if it was that stomach churning, gut wrenching, utterly repulsive possibility that made him feel like puking all his organs out and ripping them to sheds from how his initial childish side was still disgusted by it, but also that heart-fluttering, cheek-tightening, wing-soaring sensation that made all his wishes come true as said by the stars in the skies themselves — then he truly didn’t know what to believe.

It was complicated. Because one minute he felt like puking out of anxiousness on the track in his soccer uniform that he was sure he didn’t look the cutest in, but the next he felt like running up to Jungkook and kissing the life out of him just to take advantage of the alone time they had right there and right now. 

And while Taehyung was still caught between ten different sides that all yanked him to different directions all at once, he barely even noticed when Jungkook quietly jumped over railing and joined him on the ground, slowly approaching from behind without the intention to scare him. 

Well, he still managed in doing so either way, because the very moment Jungkook tapped Taehyung’s shoulder to get his attention, Taehyung’s entire body jerked approximately two feet backwards and fell to the grass field below him — bringing back painful memories of when he would fall on his ass all the time whenever Jungkook would show up to their games and practices with the cheer team in a short skirt and crop top. 

Last week included. 

“Oh shit,” Jungkook mumbled awkwardly to himself, quickly bending over to offer a hand to Taehyung who took it graciously — briefly locking gazes with him before clasping their hands together tightly and pulling himself up with the help of Jungkook, “I’m sorry —” 

“It’s fine, no worries I … I fall um a lot,” Taehyung said, averting his attention to the ground below him with his hands clasped tightly together behind his back, unsure of what to say next or what he was even supposed (or at least expected) to say next since there was clearly a reason why the rest of their group ditched them randomly here so that they could be alone.

And though a tiny pinching feeling in his gut told him the reason why, it still didn’t necessarily help the actual process of coming up with something to say to address it. That was the hard part. 

Jungkook nodded, fighting back a smile since he was well aware as to why that was, and also slightly proud that he had that much of an effect on Taehyung although butt bruises weren’t exactly too pleasant to get all the time, “I’ve noticed.” 

That was Taehyung’s cue to move to Antarctica, hide behind the bleachers, take back his words, or just do all three and travel back in time while he was already making amends to change the entire pattern of the universe anyways, so you might as well strive for above and beyond, right? 

Honestly he didn’t care if he was being irrational or unrealistic or not, he’d rather sound like a total idiot than have his … acquaintance-like-crush … know that his weakness was pretty boys in pretty skirts. Or more specifically a pretty boy named Jeon Jungkook. 

“Oh!” Taehyung choked out, flashing the fakest of smiles in Jungkook’s direction and just praying that he could play it off well enough until they were old with wrinkles and this entire interaction wouldn’t be in their memories anymore, unless someone was filming them from behind the bushes or something, “well that’s a funny little coincidence isn’t it?” 

Jungkook could only shake his head back and forth amusingly, combing his fingers through his black curly hair in order to relieve any built up stress that had been heavily weighing on him ever since the early sun rose and blessed the earth with its benevolence, indicating that it was a new day in which their hearts’ desires could potentially be coming true. 

“Sure is,” he played along, briefly glancing down at his white sneakers before focusing in on Taehyung again, “but … you know that I’m not here to just tease you, right?” 

Taehyung, quite taken aback (oddly enough since there was nothing offensive about Jungkook’s clarification), tilted his head to the side wondrously, “Wait what?” 

If Jungkook hadn’t come here for the reason he did, one might’ve even said he’d laugh, or crack a joke or do anything along the box definition that was the standard word normal. But because he knew why he was here, because he knew his exact reason, his exact motive, his exact goal which he had marked on his calendar weeks prior when counting up the days to the last and final soccer game for Taehyung’s team, he couldn’t even sport a lighthearted smile because of the nerves eating him alive; because of all the last minute doubts or anxieties that Taehyung would hate him (again) after this and they would start all the way back at square one. 

He didn’t want that to happen. Not after everything that had gone so incredibly well during these last few weeks; with minimal fights, close to zero arguments, not as many bickerings usual and if there were any it was always lighthearted ones

“I— I came to well, obviously I came to cheer you on, you know? I mean you played really well out there and you were amazing as usual,” Jungkook mustered out, fingers nervously fumbling together behind his back as a cool breeze rustled past his already windswept bangs; something so minor and barely noticeable, yet something Taehyung took note of right away.

But it wasn’t just that. It wasn’t just for the fact that Jungkook looked incredibly pretty like this; oversized hoodie draped over his body with baggy sweatpants and white sneakers, curly black hair the color of nightfall itself naturally disheveled as the day went on and as the wind continued to blow — it was because this certain tone in Jungkook’s voice hinted at something, indicated that perhaps Taehyung’s slowly chipping away heart would be mended again and given an answer that he had been waiting for this whole time. 

And all he had to do was wait. 

Slowly, Taehyung nodded, encouraging Jungkook to continue by staring at him expectantly but not necessarily in a pressuring way — which Jungkook showed his clear appreciation for. 

“But um, you know how we’ve been kinda … screwing around these last couple of months?” 

Taehyung’s heart froze in his chest, every cell crystallizing until bloomed with an irreplaceable bud of amour; sprouting from what was once a threshold of forbidden feelings for his so-called rival, until it blossomed into a beautiful flower that was known as lovesickness for a friend — with — benefits. 

Nevertheless, he nodded his head up and down gradually, shaky breathing staggering in his throat as his eyes dazed in and out of reality; too frazzled to even contemplate the endless possibilities that could result from this. 

“Right, so,” Jungkook picked up quickly, still finding it somewhat awkward to discuss their private arrangements out in public even when no one was around to hear, “so I’ve been thinking … what if we tried something new? I mean, you know we can still do that if you’d like but I mean, um—”

“Dating?” Taehyung asked, his hushed and quiet yet soothing voice nearly catching Jungkook off guard, but Jungkook was thankful nonetheless that Taehyung instantly understood what he was trying to get at.

Also because he had some difficulty getting it out himself, since it was a new and foreign idea to them both that they’d have to learn to adjust to as time went on. But, with the slow guidance of one another, they were sure they could do just that.

And make things work like they’ve been secretly wanting them to ever since the start. 

Jungkook’s heart thudded against his chest violently, thunder and lightning striking in every corner until it eventually reflected into his glass eyes — which illuminated with an abundance of fiery sparks in the form of pure felicity. 

Every word he had planned out before then just seemed beyond impossible to choke out now, even by exerting an extreme amount of force through his throat nothing seemed to work in his favor. 

Until, perhaps blessed by the gods above themselves, he eventually managed to rasp out a croaky, broken and incoherent slurred together string of words that were all connected and jumbled up together in one huge mess — yet a mess Taehyung was both willing, and capable, of understanding. 

“Y-yeah! That, whatever you call that. I mean, you know we don’t have to and I totally understand if it’s something you don’t want or - I know we kinda had a rocky start in the beginning but, I was hoping we could kinda, start anew like! Like how all those TV shows show and stuff and—”

“Jungkook,” Taehyung interrupted through a calm and steady, fond laugh, lightly placing a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder to perhaps bring him back to reality by some physical touch of sorts, “you’re rambling.” 

Jungkook drew in a fateful breath, bowing his head shamefully as he pointed a finger up towards the sky, “Right.” 

“But,” Taehyung began, coaxing Jungkook by rubbing his shoulder gently before slowly closing the space between them until they were less than a foot apart, shy lost eyes not knowing where to look or how to deal with this new change in their relationship dynamic, “it’s cute. And if you wanna try that out, I’m all for it, Koo.” 

Jungkook’s eyes slowly widened, stars glittering inside those beautiful chocolate galaxies that Taehyung found it impossible to tear his own eyes away from; feeling himself become absorbed by this … addicting hemisphere that only he got to experience. 

And that’s when he realized how truly lucky he really was. 

“R-really!?” He gasped, a hopeful smile blooming on his lips as Taehyung returned that one identically, slyly tucking a strand of hair behind Jungkook’s ear. 

“Yeah, I mean don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind hook-ups every now and then, but I think I like you a little more than how a fuckbuddy usually would, or should for the matter,” Taehyung chuckled, lightly brushing his finger against the sides of Jungkook’s face and dragging it down his cheeks smoothly, until he left it to sit right beneath his jawline. 

Jungkook didn’t know what quite to say, nor think, nor where to look since looking directly at Taehyung would only result in an over-combustion of his heart or just immediate death right on the spot. And thinking certainly wasn’t an option either since there was all too much to think about in that moment — a moment in which he wished he could slow down for the rest of eternity until Time stopped in their favor. 

But even when this moment would eventually pass, he’d forever cherish it in his heart until all bloomed gold. 

“O-oh,” Jungkook stammered, a wildfire running all along his cheeks and touching over the same parts where Taehyung’s finger had previously touched itself, as if that’s what stimulated it in the first place, “I— I think the same. I like you a lot and — not exactly in a friendly way. At least, I don’t think so.” 

Taehyung quirked a teasing eyebrow, slowly inching closer towards Jungkook who showed no signs of discomfort nor did he back away, “You don’t think so huh?” 

“Correction: know so.” 

Taehyung grinned. He couldn’t help but grin. He couldn’t help but smile, he couldn’t help that notorious cocky smirk from making a residence on his lips — the same one he sported all those years ago when competing against Jungkook in everything from school events like middle school science fairs to high school sports scholarships and gym class volleyball games; but this time, instead of working against Jungkook, it was working for him. 

It was that same smirk that had been slowly pushing Jungkook away, that was now pulling him in — using those dainty heartstrings as an easy access tool to do so. 

“Is that so?” He asked rhetorically, slowly bringing his hand to tilt up Jungkook’s chin, now allowing him a full view of that beautiful masterpiece he could never get enough of. 

God, Jungkook looked even cuter when his face was flushed a bright cotton candy pink under Taehyung’s own influence; and that was enough to make pride swell up in Taehyung’s chest, telling him that he was doing everything right. 

Even if it didn’t necessarily start off that way. 

“ No,” Jungkook mused sarcastically, melting into Taehyung’s touch as he rose onto his tip toes (even though that wasn’t completely necessary since they were nearly the same height anyways) and poked him in the chest, “I didn’t mean a word I said. I totally just lied to you and this is all a prank.”

Taehyung rose an eyebrow.

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook dismissed his past claim just to clarify, “No shit idiot! If I didn’t like you I wouldn’t want to kiss you!” 

Well shit.

It was all too late now. In fact, it already seemed like Taehyung had that idea anyways with how they were both positioned, so Jungkook exposing every inch of himself and those supposedly “secret” cravings wasn’t as horrendously idiotic and mistakenly stupid as he made it out to be. 

“I—” he stuttered, regretting absolutely everything but not necessarily in a way that he didn’t want to kiss Taehyung, because he did, but only regretted it out of fear that Taehyung didn’t want the same, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said that.” 

“Actually,” Taehyung whispered, top row of teeth sinking into his bottom lips as he slowly closed the gap in between him and Jungkook after gaining a mutual consensus to do so (which was exchanged through very intense eye contact and an eager head nod and an even more enthusiastic smile), “you should have.” 

And just like that, they both leaned in, lips meeting halfway as Taehyung was the one to close the final gap in between them both — hands moving from the sides of Jungkook’s face down to his waist as Jungkook’s arms went up to wrap themselves around Taehyung’s neck sturdily. 

It was probably the happiest moment in their lifetime. Hell, in their whole career. This moment, this time, this place, this memory that was now undeniably embedded into their brains until death do them part (or never since their afterlife together as ghosts was very much promiseable at this point too), had given them both more rushes of exhilaration than any other and every other happy moment before this. 

It outweighed all of them together. The scale broke, cracking beneath the overbearing pressure that was their undying love for one another. 

Even if it didn’t necessarily start out that way, as it usually never does unless it’s a rare case of love at first sight or two complementing personalities rather than two repelling ones, it also didn’t necessarily mean that it was never the case at all. 

Because it was those exact traits, those very same quirks, those very notorious charms, that repelled them at the very start that now connected them at the hip; strengthening their bond until their lips were the ones to make that final decision that yeah, this is what they were made for. 

Sculpted for each other out of the hands of Aphrodite and Cupid and placed in the very same universe where they were never separated, despite how many times they tried to escape each other’s presence, both Jeon Jungkook and Kim Taehyung walked hand in hand; weapons clinking and falling onto the ground below them, leaving behind all past enmities and fueled bitterness just so that they could hold flowers instead.  

T H E  E N D.