Chapter Text
Eager cheers filled the bleachers with a drone of voices chanting with fervent conviction and school spirit that shook the earth beneath them. There were only thirty seconds left on the clock, the Seagulls were losing to the Beavers by two, the scores at 80-82. The gymnasium was stuffy and hot with the combined heat elicited from the thousands of students occupying the stands. There were shrill screams that echoed throughout the buzzing vicinity, all but a clamorous background noise to Jungkook. Bubbly cheerleaders were pumping up the crowd along with the mascot who was banging on a bass drum he carried in his feathery hand.
He didn’t like such big crowds. It suffocated him. It was too cacophonous and unpleasant to his ears, but he had to stay for the game. Jungkook was part of the yearbook committee and was given the task to take pictures of their home games that would take place in the school in the next few days. They were playing in a tournament and their high school was the host for it.
Sports were a vital component of their school’s reputation, and frankly, the basketball team was at its highest peak of talent and success since anyone could remember. They were recognized as one of the best teams among high schools in their district, and everybody took pride in it. Nobody would miss a home game; bleachers would be filled to the brim of students, and some had to stand at the corners. People would even travel to their away games too as passionately loyal fans. (Mostly fangirls, however, since their basketball team was well known for every single player being ungodly handsome.) As a person who loved sports, considering he had the height and build, the strength and the stamina, his shyness had always stopped him from pursuing new things that could have pique his interest. In any case, high school was scary, and his non-assertive personality would probably lead to his own demise in an ocean full of power hungry sharks.
Jungkook raised his camera, waiting for a good shot. The piercing shriek of the referee’s whistle instigated an onslaught of frenzied noise as the players worked their way through the court, whizzing through defense with such energy, yet to burn out even as the clock hit twenty seconds in the last quarter. Even though there were other players on the court as well, Jungkook couldn’t help but follow the star player, Park Jimin. Along with Min Yoongi, Jimin was the second shortest on the team, but his dexterity and unrivaled speed made up for his lack of height. He moved with grace and control, swiftness laced in his movements, and Jungkook was entranced by him ever since the first day he’s seen him, with his fluffy black hair and warm, brown eyes that disappeared whenever he smiled so brightly, so beautifully, and so kindly. (The majority of his pictures may or may not have been of Jimin. )
And he may or may not have a crush on him.
Jungkook followed him with his camera as one of the players passed the ball to him, his expression carved into a countenance of focused solemnity and concentrated shrewdness, narrowed eyes flickering back and forth as he dribbled past his check. His cheeks were red and beads of perspiration trickled down his forehead to his soft, pink and plump lips, then to his perfectly defined jaw, down his neck and into his jersey, the sheen of it accentuating the muscles of his slender but toned arms and legs--
Fuck, so maybe he did have a crush on him.
The crowd started counting down as there were only ten seconds left. Jungkook watched as Jimin infringed over the long-limbed shields that tried to block him, only to no avail. Basketball has always been the type of strenuous activity for tall players. Height was an ideal advantage to have and most certainly sought for, but Park Jimin proved everyone wrong, that you didn’t need height to win in a sport full of inevitable towering opponents. He fought with tall and big players and won against them. He was aggressive when he was on court, plowing through his opponents that were a head or more taller than him, but he presented the most sportsmanly attitude out of all of the players. He was good, terribly good, but he remained humble despite all the adulation and attention he received. And boy, was Jungkook smitten.
Jimin shifted into a shooting stance as the crowd counted from five. Jimin jumped and shot his arm forward, the ball flying in a smooth and precise arch, and right there and then, Jungkook quickly took a picture of the image before him, of Jimin’s elegant form and eyes widened in in hope. For some reason, Jungkook could feel his heart hammering in his chest, and he didn’t even know why. However, as he watched in silent awe as the ball spun along the rim of the basket teasingly, a flicker of silence permeated the room that you could hear a pin drop until finally, it went in.
The ball went in. It was a three-pointer.
They won. 83-82.
“Ow,” Jungkook grimaced when everyone exploded into jarring screams and jumped on the bleachers. He wanted to cover his ears but his eyes immediately found Jimin, who was being spun in the air by one of his teammates, and they were all laughing and cheering. Even the coach leaped up from his seat and pumped a fist in the air from the victory they have claimed. All Jungkook could see was Jimin’s blinding smile, his pretty mouth stretched into a wide smile that showed off his pearly teeth, his soft eyes disappearing into crescents, and his heart rapidly sped up. Without thinking, he brought his camera up again and took a picture, capturing the moment of his gorgeous laugh and vivid resplendent eyes and how the red in his cheeks and the bright pink of his overworked lips accentuated the beautiful relief in his tired but soft expression.
He looked down at the picture and couldn’t help but smile a bit.
It was perfect.
///
“Uh, Jungkookie?”
Jungkook looked up from his ham and egg sandwich, munching quietly and contentedly. They were seated at one of the benches outside, just the two of them, sitting across from each other in the middle of lunch. The spring breeze was refreshing and cool, and the sunlight that shone over them exuded a chilly warmth that brought goosebumps to his skin. “Hmm?”
“You do know that the basketball team has other members too, right?” Taehyung raised his eyebrows quizzically, a small smirk present on his face. Kim Taehyung was a social butterfly and an outspoken oddity, and was also his best friend, his partner in crime, and also the persistent little shit that pushed Jungkook to join the yearbook committee with him (he thought that Jungkook would be a great contribution to the team since he had both previous experience and an affinity for photography), and had also teamed up with Jung Hoseok, dance captain of their school’s dance squad, to cajole him into joining the team too.
They’ve been friends ever since the start of high school, and quite frankly, if it wasn’t for Taehyung, Jungkook’s high school experience would have been bland and colourless. He was grateful for his vibrant and optimistic personality, his neverending support and understanding, and his hearty confidence that allowed him to ignore what other people thought of him and his eccentricities. His free-spirited perspective on life itself was contagious, and over the years, Jungkook could feel himself unraveling from his shell with his presence, albeit he still had to work on his reticent susceptibilities. They’ve seen each other at their highest and their lowest, both the ugly and the beauty, and teased each other to the brink of insanity. Even if they haven’t known each other for their whole lives, it surely felt like they did.
Jungkook stopped chewing for a moment, blinking with a bit of apprehension as though he had been caught doing something wrong. “Yes.”
“Oh. My. God. You are so in love with him!” Taehyung cackled, eyes glinting with mischief as he viewed the photos in his camera. “99% of these pictures are of Jiminie! There’s only like, one or two pictures of the other members! Man, you took a lot yesterday.” Taehyung, being the social butterfly that he was, was also friends with the basketball team and unavoidably, with Park Jimin as well.
Jungkook pouted as he shoved his sandwich into his mouth, his voice muffled from the food that puffed up his reddened cheeks, “I’m not in love. I just-- he was just-- there. Being stupidly beautiful. I can’t help it, Tae.”
“Aw, Kookie, you know we can’t put all of these pictures of Jiminie in the yearbook, right? We can’t sacrifice two pages for the sake of worshipping his sweaty face, y’know?” Taehyung gave him a wide, boxy grin, “But these are really nice pictures. Too bad we can’t use them all. So far, we have a total of 167 pictures of him, courtesy of you. Totally not creepy and unbiased at all.”
“I’m not creepy!”
“Whatever you say, Kookie!”
“Jerk.” Jungkook muttered petulantly.
“Wimp.”
“Fart blossom.”
“Shit mittens.”
“Cheesedick.”
Taehyung let out a bubbly laugh and punched him in the shoulder. “Cheesedick, really? Ah, so immature! Anyways, it’s not fair to the other players too, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.” Jungkook mumbled guiltily, “But Jimin is just really… distracting.”
“Aw, that’s so cute, Jungkookie!” Taehyung cooed, reaching over to pinch his soft cheeks, and Jungkook scrunched up his nose in disgust as he batted his grabby hands away, “You know, it wouldn’t hurt to talk to him. He’s really open and friendly. He’s got a kind and humble heart and I’m sure he’ll enjoy talking to you! I mean, he’s in one of your electives, right? Art Foundations?”
The art class he was taking merged both juniors and seniors, and funnily enough, Jimin was in that class too. Jimin sat in the front while Jungkook sat way in the back, which displayed their contrast in personalities if it wasn’t obvious before. Jimin was always surrounded by his circle of friends and his teammates, so there had been no opportunity for him to actually talk to the star player. But even if there was a chance, Jungkook didn’t think he would take it. He was too quiet, too awkward, too timid. Their conversation would die the moment they’ve exchanged greetings. Jungkook wanted to avoid that by all means.
“No thanks.” Jungkook muttered, taking a sip of his apple juice after he finished his sandwich.
Taehyung sighed.
///
Classes were blurry and boring as time passed by. He fought against sleep countless of times until the final bell rang and Jungkook shot up from his seat, shoved all his things into his backpack, hung the bag where his camera was in over his shoulders, and booked it out of the classroom first.
After grabbing the necessary things he needed from his locker and his thin jacket, he swerved past the crowds of students bustling about in a voracious pursuit for their own lockers. He had dance practice everyday after school, and even if he had been reluctant to join the team in the first place, he slowly became accustomed to the routine. Now, he was excited and looked forward to it everyday. Dancing was one of his other hobbies he enjoyed doing other than photography, but he was always a lot shyer when disclosing that piece of information.
Jung Hoseok was the dance captain as well as their well-esteemed senior and close friend. He was the epitome of happiness; the embodiment of the sun. An optimistic smile would always be plastered on his face no matter the situation, striving to see the silver lining in every dark cloud. Jungkook looked up to the older boy, seeing him as an inspiration as both a dancer and as a person. The dance team didn’t have many members--only 4, including Jungkook--and why it didn’t do so great, Jungkook didn’t know. Taehyung said it was because the school funded the sports department more than the arts, which would explain why they were able to renovate the gymnasiums and even build a new weight room instead of a dance studio. Hoseok had been hunting down for any members willing to join, especially if they possessed any smidgen of potential. That goes to show his undeniable passion for dance and it motivated Jungkook to hone his skills even more.
Jungkook arrived at the auditorium, finding Hoseok adjusting the tall mirrors against the wall of the stage. The mirrors were motile, equipped with wheels at the bottom that made them adjustable, and just wheeling it out of the storage room next door took up most of their time. He placed his things down carefully, especially his camera, and climbed up the stage, helping the older boy with the mirrors until they were set up properly.
“Thanks, Kook!” Hoseok grinned happily at him, clapping a hand on his back. “Looks like it’s just you and me today.”
Nonplussed, Jungkook frowned, “Why just the two of us? What happened to Ji-hye and Nari noona?”
“Ji-hye caught the flu and Nari’s volunteering in the tournament. She’s too busy coordinating the event and handling all the setup and takedown of things to have any spare time.” Hoseok said wistfully, although he didn’t sound too bothered by it. “It’s okay! We can go easy today.”
Jungkook nodded and the both of them warmed up with a few stretches, small talks here and there, before they began to go over their routine. He burned every detail of the choreography into his mind until it became a deep-rooted secondary instinct for him, until he didn’t need to think and let his body move on its own from the conditioned repetition. With little breaks in between, they fooled around lightheartedly, Hoseok’s hearty laughter bouncing off the echoing walls when Jungkook did a silly dance. He was sweating bullets by the time practice was finally over. He was lying on the floor panting, arm thrown over his eyes, giving his body a small break before he sat up and grabbed his water bottle and chugged it down. He lifted the end of his white tee to wipe the sweat off his face. His limbs ached with a dull pulse, but it was that kind of satisfying ache--the kind where your body felt rejuvenated with exercise rather than being tired out.
“Nice work, Kookie! Man, you never half-ass anything, huh?” Hoseok exclaimed, “We can work on our placement next time when all of us are here. Let’s get these mirrors back and call it a day.”
They wheeled the mirrors back into the storage room and rearranged the auditorium back to how it was before. Jungkook was still sticky with sweat after they were done cleaning up after themselves, but he didn’t bother to change since he was heading straight home anyways to shower immediately. It was already a half past six, and didn’t want to waste any more time. He quickly put on his backpack and hung his camera bag over his shoulders, carrying his light windbreaker over his arms, and said his polite goodbyes to Hoseok who was getting ready to leave just as well since they used different exits.
Feeling thirsty, Jungkook made a detour and headed towards the vending machine instead. He bought himself a cold lemon soda and made his way outside to the main entrance of the school where the bike racks were situated at. He rode his bicycle to school and back home everyday, since it was much faster than walking. He enjoyed the feeling of liberation as the cold wind nipped at his exposed skin when he zipped through the neighborhood aligned with deciduous trees and roads covered in silky, pristine foliage, through the streets that were still quiet and pleasantly serene in the early, frigid morning, the sun still barely up but still bright enough to illuminate the entire landscape of his line of sight, making the glassy blue sky dreamlike and luminous. Jungkook loved the feeling of uninhibited solitude as much as he loved his passions.
He approached the bike racks, finding that his rusty bike was the only one still left chained to it. He didn’t unlock it, though, and took out his phone instead to make a call as he took a sip of his cold drink, reveling in the fleeting excursion of gelidity throughout his body that invigorated his senses. His body was still warm and sweaty, and the chilly breeze as well as his cold drink definitely relieved the stifling heat clinging to his skin.
“What’s up, Jungkookie?” Taehyung beamed from the other line.
“I was wondering if you wanna sleep over tonight? My mom’s going out for dinner with her friends. We can play Overwatch and binge on cold pizza.” He offered excitedly.
“Aw, I wish I could, but my relatives came over today and I have to stay and accommodate them.” Taehyung sighed, “Trust me, if I could leave the house, I would.”
“You suck, Tae.” Jungkook laughed lightly as he took another comforting sip.
There was a moment of pause. Then, came his completely unexpected and grave-sounding answer, “Kookie, the only things I suck are lollipops and dicks.”
Taehyung-- his best friend, his partner in crime, a connoisseur of the finest trivia facts about the genitals of marsupials, an intellect that excelled in literature and theatre, was also really, really, really gay.
Jungkook spluttered and spat out what he had in his mouth in front of him through his mouth and his nose, which was completely fucking uncomfortable as he choked and fervently coughed until his stomach hurt. He could hear Taehyung’s hysterical laughter even as he brought his phone away from his ear to focus on regaining his composure, because fucking hell he was wheezing now, the coughs coming out roughly and uncontrollably. His nose was in a state of discomfiture, and he felt his eyes water especially from the distinctive sourness of the lemon flavour. His vision became hazy with an aqueous sheen, and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, “Tae, what the hell--”
“Um, are you okay?”
Jungkook froze, the words caught in his throat as blood gushed to his cheeks and all he could hear was the rapid thumping of his heart beating against his chest. He hadn’t heard anyone approach him from behind and he felt his veins turn icy cold, or maybe it was the cold wind or the damned drink he still had in his hand.
“Excuse me?” The voice was gentle and soft, and painstakingly familiar.
“Uh, Kookie? You alive there, buddy?” Taehyung’s voice echoed and Jungkook quickly ended the call with him and spun around, eyes widening comically as Park Jimin stood before him in all his sweaty glory, face still sheen with perspiration from what Jungkook assumed was from basketball practice. His black hair was tousled from the wind yet it still retained its smoothness, like spools of silk with tiny little chatoyant jewels that sparkled and gleamed haphazardly underneath the light. His beautifully curved eyes were pleasantly warm and laced with concern, and his slightly chapped but plump lips parted in uncertainty. His cheeks seemed soft and squishy, flushed with a faint red, traces of sweat on the sides of his forehead. He was in an oversized hoodie and was wearing track pants, his equipment bag thrown over his shoulder. He was even shorter in person too, Jungkook taller than him by a good few inches.
Holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck what the fuck he’s even more beautiful up close. How is that even universally possible. Holy shit. Wait am i crying?? Jungkook quickly wiped away an escaped tear, realizing that yes, his eyes were still watering from the coughing that had died down, his nose itchy with discomfort, and yes, now Jimin thinks that he’s crying. Crying.
“I-- uh-- um-- I--” Jungkook stuttered, feeling his cheeks become ablaze and he quickly looked down to hide the fact that he was most probably as red as a tomato. His heart was hammering against his chest with such rapidity that he thought he was going to faint right there, and he hoped he didn’t, because he embarrassed himself enough. He realized that they haven’t formally met each other yet, which brings him to another realization that this was not a good first impression.
“Sorry, I surprised you, didn’t I?” Jimin prodded softly, his small hands tucked into the pockets of his pants, “I was heading home when I saw you, uh, do a spit take. And then you started coughing a lot and I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Jungkook looked back up in time to see a small smile, and he felt his nerves spike and his body reheat. Was he sweating again? He was not expecting Jimin of all people to witness such a mortifying sight and come up to him at the same time to check on him, and he doesn’t think he’s ever met a jock with such a kind, pure soul before.
Suddenly, he remembers that one conversation he had with Taehyung in the hallway as they were walking to their biology class.
(“C’mon, Jungkookie. I’ll have you know that Hyunwoo from the soccer team is exceptionally kind!”
“Tae, he’s the waterboy.” Jungkook muttered.
“So? He’s still part of the team! Anyways, they’re all such cool people! They wouldn’t hurt a fly! Some of them are just really loud and pompous, but at the end of they day, they wouldn’t use their status to hurt anyone.”
“That’s because everyone loves you, Tae.” Jungkook frowned, “You think everybody is cool.”
“Nu-uh.”
“Uh-huh.” Jungkook sighed, shuddering a bit. “Someone like you wouldn’t see it. They’re intimidating. They walk around in packs like they’re searching for fresh meat to pounce on. They’re the legitimate paradigms of ravenous predators.” He knew it was inconsiderate to stereotype them into a general description. Jungkook has met a few sporty individuals that were incredibly nice, but the more notorious ones he ran into--well, let’s just say that their use of fear mongering worked quite well and he’s been avoiding them ever since. With that ever lasting impression, he doesn’t think he’ll be talking to the basketball team any time soon. He was content just from seeing Jimin in the halls.
“What makes you say that?” Taehyung asked quizzically. Just as he finished his sentence, a loud crash startled them into a halt, the sound attracting nosy students to the site of the commotion just like moths to a flame. Jungkook stood to the side when a couple of guys in blue varsity jackets surrounded a smaller, thinner boy, who was being held up against the lockers by one of the jocks, snarling in his fear-streaked face. They were taunting him, laughing arrogantly at the boy’s visible terror, and they slammed him into the locker once more.
Jungkook deadpanned at Taehyung and pointed at the commotion. “That.” ))
“Um,” Jimin looked up at him curiously when Jungkook was too busy reminiscing and didn’t answer properly, “Are you really okay?” That snapped him out of the sudden trip down the memory lane, and an onslaught of nervousness flooded him when he realized that oh my god I’m talking to him what do I say oh god--
Jungkook was the type to admire his crushes from afar and be content with that, but interacting with them? Hell no. He was not fine. This was completely out of his comfort zone.
“N-no, you don’t need to apologize--” Jungkook shook his head frantically, “I-I’m okay, I was just… um, surprised by something my friend said on the phone. I’m okay now. I wasn’t crying. The drink was lemon flavoured and it got into my nose. It hurts a lot. I’m sorry you had to see that. Oh God, you had to see that. That was humiliating. Oh God. I wasn’t crying or anything. I don’t cry. I mean, everyone cries, but not from getting soda stuck in their nose, if that makes any sense. It’s just a reaction. I mean, I do cry--I cry whenever I watch that documentary about orangutans and the Titanic--uh, not because I want to watch it but because my mom is a really huge fan of Leonardo Dicaprio and she always binge watches it whenever her love life becomes shit--oh, wait, that was too personal, fuck--”
Jimin blinked his mildly amused eyes, “You’re rambling.”
Jungkook stopped. Closed his mouth. Opened his mouth again, his voice tiny, “Sorry.”
Another thing he didn’t expect out of this interaction was for Jimin to laugh. He laughed and it was the most beautiful thing he has ever heard in his entire life of 17 years. It was a mellifluous tinkling melody that could have brought wilted flowers back to vivid life, so brilliantly cheerful and spirited and good natured, and all Jungkook could do at that moment was stare at him in both wonder and awe because he made him laugh. He was so busy staring that he didn’t even register Jimin’s words--didn’t even notice that he had spoken, until he realized that Jimin was waving his hand in front of him to get his attention. Startled, Jungkook jumped out of his reverie and blinked.
“Huh?” He unintelligibly said.
Jimin smiled knowingly, his eyes crinkling and disappearing, and seeing his charming smile up front was completely different from seeing it from the silhouettes of the background he often hid in. It was so different. Was this the effect of charismatic people? “That’s okay, Jungkookie. Everyone gets distracted. I understand.” Did he wink? Jungkook blushed even harder, oh my god he just winked. Help me Jesus. Jungkook swore he saw his gaze lower for a brief second (could he see his sweat? Did he smell? Oh god--) before his smiling eyes flickered back up, “Anyways, I just said that you were funny!”
“Uh--” his brain short-circuited for a moment, “you, um, know me?”
“Yeah, I do!” He exclaimed, “I hope you know me too. I’m Jimin! You’re in my art class, aren’t you? You sit in the back.”
“Of course I know you!” Jungkook blurted without thinking, “I don’t know who doesn’t know you! You’re the star player of the basketball team! You guys won because of your three-pointer yesterday! You’re amazing and--“ you’re beautiful and incredibly kind and I have a crush on you but of course, he saved himself from a sempiternity of mortification just in time. Jungkook didn’t think Jimin would have even noticed him, since he was always surrounded by so many of his charming friends that radiated daunting confidence and took up most of his attention. It came as an astonishment for him and he felt his chest flutter with something warm and nice.
“And?” Jimin smiled, laughing softly. Jungkook couldn’t tell if it was because he recently came from practice, but his cheeks seemed a bit redder than he initially remembered. Then again, it was chilly outside, so Jungkook assumed it was just the cold.
“Uh, and…” Jungkook trailed off, desperately grabbing at what his mind can formulate for him, “and--and fluffy.”
Fluffy? Jungkook couldn’t believe he just said that.
“Fluffy?” Jimin rose his eyebrows in interest, eyes illuminated with amusement, “How can a person be fluffy?”
“I mean--your hair!” Jungkook flimsily corrected himself, “Your hair looks really fluffy! What kind of conditioner do you use for your hair?” This was it. He was going to die. No amount of little expensive burgers for starving mice could heal his combusting soul and revive him from his miserable, humiliating death of social incompetence. He was going to go up in flames, shrivel, and float off into the ocean and his country was going to pump out oil made from his dead carcass.
Jimin laughed brightly, covering his mouth with the back of his hand as he threw his head back, “You’re so funny, Jungkookie. Thank you.” He grinned, “You know, Taehyungie also talks about you too in our pre-calc class! He won’t ever shut up about how talented you are.”
Jungkook floundered for words as his cheeks burned. That would explain why he knew the nickname Taehyung made for him that stuck with him ever since they were freshmen. “R-really?” What the fuck, Tae. What the fuck. Oh my god, what if he knows about how many pictures I take of him? What if he thinks I’m creepy? “Sorry. I-I don’t want him to annoy you about me. I’m not really talented.”
“Ah, he also mentioned that you’re incredibly humble too.” Jimin giggled, fucking giggled, “I don’t mind, honestly! It’s really fun hearing about you, Jungkook. Any friend of Taehyungie is a friend of mine.”
“Oh, um, same? I mean, same as in any friend of Tae’s is a friend of mine too.” Jungkook nervously chuckled, habitually looking down at the ground.
“I’m glad to hear that! By the way, you’re younger than me, right?” His smiled widened when Jungkook nodded, “Ah, you can call me hyung, then! I hope you don't mind me calling you Jungkookie. Taehyungie said that you detested it with every fibre of your being when he first called you that.”
“I don't mind, Jimin-hyung.” Jungkook muttered bashfully with a timid smile, his front teeth poking out, eyes flickering down towards the concrete ground, “I used to dislike it at first but I got used to it. I kind of like it now, actually.” Especially when you say it.
Jimin softly chuckled.
“Hey, um,” Jungkook looked up to find Jimin staring at him intently, his voice quiet but eager, “will you be coming to the game tomorrow?”
“Y-yeah. I’m the photographer for the yearbook committee, so I, um, have to take pictures of the games to put them in the yearbook. You know, for the sports section. ‘Cos I’m the photographer. Who takes pictures. Like a photographer would normally do.” He inwardly winced and wished that the ground beneath his feet would swallow him whole right at this exact moment.
At that, Jimin’s face instantly lit up, “Really? That’s good to hear!” Jungkook didn’t know why he looked so happy to hear that. Everyone was basically going to go and Jungkook wasn’t anything special compared to the others. "I have faith that we'll win, so hopefully I'll be able to look cool in front of the camera!" He laughed shyly, "And in front of you." Jungkook felt the icy fractals of his heart thaw at such a tender sight, and his cheeks felt hot at the fact that Jimin wanted to look cool in front of him.
"You always look cool, Jimin-hyung!" Jungkook reassured him to the best of his ability without inwardly combusting, "I have the--the pictures to prove it."
Jimin hummed, a playful smile on his face, "I know."
Before Jungkook could take the time to understand what he meant, the cogs in his brain still turning, Jimin spoke up once again, a soft smile gracing his features, “Well, I better get going. I have to rest as much as I can before my game tomorrow! I hope to see you there, Jungkookie.”
“Oh, uh, okay. Okay I--uh, thanks for being concerned about me, by the way, Jimin-hyung.” Jungkook didn’t know what to do so he bowed his head politely, gnawing at his bottom lip out of nervous propensities. “I wish you good luck tomorrow.”
“Aw, you’re such a sweetheart! It’s no problem at all. It was nice to finally meet you and I’ll see you around, okay?” He flashed him another dazzling smile, waving cutely at him and turned around to leave. Jungkook watched him, staring at his back as he grew more distant from the vicinity, becoming smaller and smaller until he finally disappeared from the corner. The sky had darkened already, a hue of warm orange descending into a gradient of dark blue as the sun setted. Jungkook looked down at his sweaty clothes, hoping that he hadn’t smell bad at all.
His heart was still leaping, his cheeks were still burning, and there was a tingling sensation on his fingertips and in his chest that kept him on his toes. His mind was still processing what had just happened, if their interaction that was short-lived but fruitful had been a figment of his imagination, but the engine in his brain clicked and he stood there, dumbfounded and agape in disbelief. He can’t believe he talked to him. Rambled to him. It was embarrassing to some extent, but it made him happy, for some reason. He was delightfully happy.
Jungkook pocketed his phone, finished the last drops of his drinks and placed it in the basket of his bike to recycle later, and biked home with a small smile on his face.
///
Jungkook buried his head in his hands, his face flushed with embarrassment as Taehyung cackled uncontrollably beside him to the point of tears, clutching his stomach as he writhed around.
“That’s golden, Kookie! Fucking golden!” Taehyung laughed, clapping Jungkook on the back as he gasped for air, “I wish I was there to witness it! Oh my god!”
“Shut up, Tae.” He muttered, lips jutted out in a petulant pout as he shoved his hand away, “It’s not funny.”
The nice thing about the basketball tournaments that took place in his school was that Jungkook was able to be excused from his classes because of his duties as a photographer, even if he was mostly slacking off the majority of the time when the Seagulls weren’t playing yet. So now, here he was, seated at the edge of the bleachers near the concession stand as he fiddled with his camera that hung around his neck. The teams currently playing were from different districts, and the Seagulls were playing the game after them, which started at 4, so he had plenty of time to spare.
His languid eyes were flipping through the photos he had taken a while ago when he was fooling around with Taehyung. There were a variety of silly and ugly poses (he reminded himself to upload it to his laptop and save it as blackmail) and a couple candid shots that turned out fine and dandy, highlighting Taehyung’s profile. Taehyung was flopped down beside him, laughing his ass off after Jungkook told him what had happened yesterday, something Jungkook had lost sleep over because the memory of making a fool out of himself in front of his completely beautiful crush did not alleviate his overstimulated, self-deprecating brain. A pile of snacks that Taehyung had purchased from the concession stand was nested beside him, threatening to fall off the edge of the bleachers as he kicked around in a frenzy of vehement laughter.
“Now you don’t have any excuses as to why you can’t talk to him, Kookie!” Taehyung grinned, wiping away the tears that were about to fall from his aqueous eyes, “See what I told you? He’s got a good heart! You completely humiliated yourself in front of him and he didn’t run away! Heck, I bet he even thought you were cute.”
“He probably thought I was weird, Tae,” Jungkook frowned, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, resting his chin on top, “He caught me staring at him, ogling at him, as if that wasn’t creepy enough. I just had to mention my mom’s love life and how I cry every time I watch the Titanic and that documentary about orangutans. I called him fluffy of all things. And then I asked about his hair conditioner. I’m doomed. I can’t show my face to him anymore.”
“Kookie, everyone cries when they watch the Titanic. Even the manliest of manly men cry when Jack dies.” Taehyung said, “And it’s not like you can help it, right? You’re such a sensitive wittle baby.” He cooed, grabbing the sides of his face to puff up his cheeks cutely, squishing them, and laughed when Jungkook whined and pushed his hands away with a scowl. “People can be fluffy, you know! Fluffy as in huggable, right?” Jungkook meekly nodded, and Taehyung chuckled, “Besides, he winked at you! Doesn’t that count as something?”
“There’s no way he’s interested in me.” Jungkook said, eyes lowered sadly, “He probably has a really pretty cheerleader girlfriend. I mean, every jock has a cheerleader girlfriend, don’t they?”
“Stop watching teen movies, Kookie. They’re bad for your perception of reality. That’s like saying he’s a jerk just because he’s a jock, but he’s not a jerk, is he? Get that out of your head, man. He’s the sweetest little marshmallow ever!” Taehyung flicked him on the forehead, “And who said he likes girls?”
“He doesn’t?” He perked up with wide eyes.
“I don’t know, but that’s the point! Who knows!” Taehyung said as Jungkook visibly deflated, “The point is, you never know what’ll happen if you don’t try! At least try and befriend him first. See, I knew that being your wingman would pay off. You’re welcome, you ungrateful piece of shit.”
“You probably told him every single embarrassing thing about me!”
“Uh, no I didn’t.” Taehyung blinked innocently with his round eyes, “The only thing I told him that was close to embarrassing was when you got hammered for the first time in the middle of the night and drunkenly confessed to me how much you absolutely adored Iron Man and kept action figurines and posters of him in your Iron Man themed bedroom.”
“Kim Taehyung!” Jungkook exclaimed in exasperation and horror, and watched as Taehyung erupted in laughter once again, falling onto his side as he wheezed for air.
The buzzer sounded and Jungkook glanced up. The game was finished and fifteen minutes were put up on the large scoreboard as a person scurried around to clean the court with an ample mop. Once the court was free of debris and sweat, the teams scheduled for the next game permeated the court and began warming up. Jungkook felt his breath hitch as he spotted a familiar head of black line himself up with his team at one end of the court, stretching their strong limbs before jogging back and forth, laughing at a joke his teammate had made. As though Jimin had sensed him intensely staring, he shifted his gaze from his teammate to the stands until he finally locked eyes with Jungkook. Stunned from the unexpected eye contact, he was about to look away when Jimin immediately broke into an ebullient grin, the one that made his eyes turn into dainty crescents, and he waved eagerly at him. He was waving at him.
“Oh my god, you are so in love.” Taehyung gasped after Jungkook shyly returned the wave and averted his gaze again.
“I am not, Tae.”
Since the game started at 4:00, they spent the next few minutes wasting time, throwing chips and gummy bears at each other out of zealous boredom as students slowly flooded the gymnasium, taking up the vacant spots on the bleachers. Nobody paid attention to their tomfoolery, even when Taehyung aggressively chased Jungkook up and down the stands after he accidentally spilled some grape soda on his favourite bomber jacket. They talked about the vast possibilities of other life forms inhabiting space yet to be discovered by earth’s advancement in technology, argued heatedly over the concept of bunnies living on the moon, and made up a new handshake in the span of fifteen minutes. To emphasize their ennui, they even briefly talked about Jungkook’s mother.
((“Oh yeah, how’s your mom doing?” Taehyung perked up in curiosity, opening a green can of sprite. He took a noisy sip, smacking his lips with a delighted sigh at the refreshing drink, “Didn’t you say that she’s been dating some fund manager? What’s the deets?”
“She broke up with him a few days ago,” Jungkook replied with a thoughtful look, eyes flickering up in recollection of the image of his mother laughing hysterically into the night and hiccuping like an overenthusiastic honking seal when she returned from her date, “turns out he treated the waiters with disrespect, picked his nose and spat in public, and didn’t like kids. My mom said that underneath that stoic, handsome look of his, he had the personality of a deadbeat fishmonger who couldn’t tell the difference between cashmere and polyester.”
“What?” Taehyung gasped, “What kind of person can’t tell the difference between cashmere and polyester? That’s preposterous!”
“You tell me. Anyways, she’s been having a rom com marathon lately, sulking over her love life that’s been in constant decline. If I ever see another movie with Ben Affleck in it again, I’m going to lose my mind.” ))
Soon enough, the bleachers were filled with a sea of excited students. Jungkook and Taehyung were now seated properly since they didn’t have any more space to fool around. He could see the swaying ponytails of the cheerleaders who were already instigating the crowd, and the bobble-headed mascot that ran back and forth to encourage more noise to be made. There was only a couple seconds left on the clock, and the teams were huddled in their respective sides going over pep talks and strategies. The horn sounded and ten minutes were put on the clock. Both teams chanted their school cheers and dispersed onto the court, and the crowds applauded vigorously and yelled as the players took their positions.
“Remember, Jungkookie. All of the members, not just Jiminie.” Taehyung reminded him with a nudge, “Or at least, take a fair equal amount of shots of all of them if you’re going to take individual pictures.”
“I got it, I got it,” Jungkook muttered as the referee threw the ball up into the air. The tall player that was placed in the center--Kim Seokjin, he recalled--leaped into the air with outstanding vigor and strength, his long arms reaching for the ball first. He pushed the ball towards one of his teammates who caught it effortlessly, and in a heartbeat, they were scurrying towards the front court as they headed towards their opponent’s basket. He caught the sight of Jimin’s smile when they scored first and he immediately brought his camera up to take a shot of that sight, “but I can’t exactly guarantee it.”
“Gross.” Taehyung gagged and Jungkook glared at him.
Jungkook managed to get some good shots of the team members as time passed by and the game intensified. Not only did he capture great shots of Jimin, he was able to capture the other members as well, such as when Yoongi was still in the air after he released a three-pointer shot and when Seokjin was in the middle of dunking the ball into the basket. Jungkook was rather proud of himself, that he had managed to take some really refined photos of the other members that definitely accentuated their proficiency and well-defined features. He even took some pictures of the cheerleaders as well, blushing and curtly avoiding them as he ran back to his seat in the bleachers when they smiled sweetly at him.
“Isn’t that Hobi-hyung?” Taehyung asked.
“Hm?” Jungkook looked up from browsing through his camera and followed Taehyung’s gaze. He spotted Hoseok talking to one of the volunteers beside the officials table. Jungkook squinted his eyes, noticing that Hoseok looked a little bit stressed as he ran his fingers through his tousled hair a couple of times. “Yeah, it is. What is he doing over there?”
Taehyung shrugged. He watched as Hoseok nodded, apparently agreeing to something as he glanced up at the scoreboard. There were only three minutes until halftime, and after he finished talking to the volunteer, he headed towards the edge of the court and made his way towards Jungkook’s side, careful not to interfere with the game currently playing. Hoseok easily spotted him and his eyes immediately brightened at the sight of him, and he hurried towards him.
“Jungkook!” Hoseok called, apologizing to a couple people seated in the front for blocking their view. He waved at Jungkook, beckoning him to come down from the stands.
Hesitantly, Jungkook made his way down the bleachers, cautious not to bump into anyone as he descended down the stands with Taehyung curiously following behind. They approached him and they stood off to the side near the concession stand so they wouldn’t block anyone else’s view. “Hyung? What’s up?”
“I know this is extremely last minute but,” Hoseok ran a hand over his face, “they want us to perform during half-time.”
“Perform?” Jungkook repeated, eyes widening and apprehension rattling at his bones, “Perform?”
“This is the game that’ll determine if we’re heading into the finals or not. They want us to hype up the crowd as much as we can. Apparently, they were pretty unorganized with the whole thing. I don’t know why they couldn’t ask the drum line, but I guess it’s because Nari suggested us as the halftime act. We only get five minutes.”
Jungkook was already sweating in trepidation at the thought of performing in front of people. The attention. The judgmental and bored gazes of the audience. The murmurs and incoherent chatter that would fill the stands. The attention. Did he mention the attention? He was going to die. He can’t do this. He wasn’t ready to perform in front of people. He wasn’t even that good. What if he messed up? He had a proneness of messing up whenever he was anxious and overwhelmed. He wasn’t mentally prepared and he hated to let his peers down if he make a mistake.
Hoseok grabbed him by the shoulders and looked at him directly, “Now, Jungkook. I know what you’re probably thinking, and I want you to stop thinking that. You are a great dancer, and it’s normal to feel like you’re going to shit your pants. That’s fine. You should feel my stomach right now. I feel like I’m going to puke my lunch out, and it was a delicious lunch, mind you.”
“You guys, this is a great opportunity!” Taehyung squealed excitedly, unbothered by the fact that the both of them were freaking out, “Once the crowd sees your wicked choreography, they’ll be enticed! They’ll be interested! You might even get new members!”
“But it’s just the two of us.” Jungkook frowned, “How is that going to work? I don’t know if I can-- I’m not prepared--”
“It’ll work, believe me. We’ll dance as a duo.” Hoseok shook his shoulders slightly, “You are going to do great because you are great. This is a great learning experience for you before we actually do competitions outside of school, okay? You hear me, Jungkook? You will do fine. Just remember that you’re not performing all alone.”
Jungkook stiffly nodded, “Y-yeah. Okay. I’ll--I’ll do my best.”
“That’s my golden boy!” Hoseok grinned, ruffling his hair affectionately. Jungkook placed a hand over his stomach, trying to calm his jittery nerves. He felt as though his heart was going to lurch out of his chest and he was going to pass out right there and then. His mind was plagued with the prospects of performing in front of an entire crowd of volatile teenagers, especially since the dance team wasn’t quite popular, but he had to remind himself that he wasn’t alone. He could do this. He could do this. Taehyung placed an arm around his shoulder to comfort him, his grin contagiously happy and calm.
“Our routine is only four minutes though. What about the last minute?”
“That’s what I’ve been thinking about,” Hoseok rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He had that look in his eyes when he was planning something unspeakable, like an impossible innovative dance move he’d try on a whim when he was feeling creative. He looked up at Jungkook with a quirk of an eyebrow.
Jungkook swallowed nervously.
“Speaking of my golden boy, Kook, how do you feel about a solo?”
“A solo? Me?” Jungkook felt his soul leave his body.
“Not a freestyle solo, Jungkookie! I meant the Manolo choreo, the one by Keone Madrid! I’ve seen you dance it plenty of times and it’s good. Like, incredibly good.” Hoseok said ecstatically, “It’ll be the perfect introduction to get the crowd going! I can stand off to the side and join in near the end since I’m only familiar with that part. Then the music will change and we’ll go straight into our routine. I’ve got the mix right in my phone.”
“I--I don’t know--” Jungkook nibbled on his lip, “I mean, do you really trust me to do that? I don’t want to mess up.”
“Of course I trust you! You’ve worked hard, Jungkookie. Hard work pays off!” Hoseok beamed, “I know you can do it. It doesn’t matter if you mess up or not. ”
“I agree. As long as you can show them that dance is just as important as sports, then that’s enough to spur the crowd.” Taehyung contributed to the conversation with a cheeky grin.
“But--” Jungkook looked down at his clothes: a bright red hoodie, ripped acid washed skinny jeans, and his pair of favourite timberlands. “--my outfit. I’m not in uniform.”
Hoseok flippantly waved away that notion, “It’s too late now to worry about uniforms. We look fine! I mean, at least we have something that matches, right?” He pointed at his own ripped jeans that were black. He was wearing a denim jacket over a striped turtleneck with a pair of black sneakers. They were definitely not dressed for a proper performance, but hopefully the crowd wouldn’t mind the discrepancy in their appearances. Jungkook nodded and he took off his camera and passed it to Taehyung. The both of them began stretching.
He was shaking with apprehension and anticipation, an amalgamation of excitement and uneasiness pervading his body. He could feel his brain overload with bad case scenarios and Jungkook looked towards Taehyung with genuine worry in his eyes, “Tae, I think I’m going to throw up.”
“Now, Jungkookie. Believe me when I say this: you are going to kill it.” Taehyung replied earnestly, a look of fervent belief in his eyes, “I’ve seen you dance before, okay? You’re an amazing dancer and Hobi-hyung thinks so too, and that says a lot, doesn’t it? It’s only you that can build up that self-esteem of yours. Don’t let your inhibitions prevent you from showing how talented you are to the world.” He nodded towards the bleachers, “I’m going to be in my seat, so when you get on the court, I want you to look at me. Focus on me and no one else, okay? Just at me. You’ll be fine.”
It was times like these that Jungkook was eternally grateful for a best friend like Taehyung. It was often fun and games between them, but Taehyung always knew when it was time to be serious, knew when to comfort him and give him moral support (he also believes it’s because of his inherent bff radar tingling that he knew what was up) when Jungkook lacked the confidence in himself to carry through.
“Thanks, Tae.” He nodded, managing a nervous smile. “I needed that.”
“Anytime, bro.” Taehyung gave him a boxy grin, “Now, go kick some ass! I’ll keep your camera safe with me.”
The buzzer horned and Jungkook flinched. The opposing team had exited the gym to head towards the equipment room to have a discussion in a more private room, but Jungkook watched in dread as his school team stayed put to where they were, huddled near their bench as their coach shouted at them with disciplinary vexation. They weren’t doing so well in the game so far, behind the other team by twelve points. He caught sight of Jimin’s troubled expression, eyebrows furrowed in distraught, and Jungkook wanted to reassure him, to smooth the crease in the space between his eyebrows until that distressed countenance was gone.
“Now, time for our halftime act!” Jungkook bristled when a volunteer announced into a mic, “A special performance from our very own dance team!”
That was their cue. His legs felt like lead when he shuffled onto the court, feeling every single stare burn into his whole being. He felt exposed and it only made him more nervous, more suffocated in the crowds of people who waited in anticipation. He looked up at the stands, eyes trailing over the hundreds of hazy faces until he spotted Taehyung, who immediately grinned at him and waved. Taehyung pointed at his mouth with one hand and his chest with the other, motioning him to take in a deep breath before slowly letting it out. Jungkook followed his instructions, attempting to clear his mind, ignoring the trembling in his body. He exhaled deeply, closing his eyes, and focused. Focus, focus, focus.
“Let’s do this.” He heard Hoseok laugh.
The performance was all a blur in Jungkook’s mind. The moment the music came on, all he could think about was perfection. He put vigorous strength and energy, meticulous precision and smoothness behind his sharp moves, as well as his own personality to it as he drifted fluidly with his small solo. The tension in his limbs immediately melted and disappeared into adrenaline that pumped throughout his veins. The music changed and then there was a shift in their position and they moved in sync with the music and with each other. He let his body move to the beat in its own accordance, and all the anxiety he had felt in the beginning completely disappeared from his disposition.
He barely registered the cheering from the crowd when they finished. He looked up in awe, still in a state of disbelief, even as Hoseok pulled him into a victorious hug that broke him out of his blank concentration. Jungkook blinked away the shock and immediately, his lungs were filled with exhilaration. He felt---great. He could feel the pride of accomplishment burst in his chest. The crowd loved them. He saw Taehyung bounce in his seat, pumping his fists in the air as he hooted and shouted their names with a proud, elated grin, and Jungkook couldn’t help but smile ear to ear as well.
As they were being ushered off the court, Jungkook chanced a glance behind him, and he felt his breath hitch when he met eyes with Jimin, who was staring at him unnervingly with delight tinged in his eyes. He looked somewhat mesmerized, eyebrows raised in interest and amazement. Then, his lips stretched into a pleasant smile and he brought both his hands in the shape of an 'L' up towards his eyes to mimic a camera, taking an imaginary picture of him, before he proceeded to mouth something at him.
Jungkook repeated the image in his head. He was trying to figure out what he had said to him even as Taehyung tackled him into a tight embrace that constricted his air way, even as Hoseok ruffled his hair and pinched his cheeks and praised him to the point of it becoming overwhelmingly embarrassing, even as the mascot gave him a high five with its flappy wing, even as he took off his hoodie to let himself cool down, even as the Seagulls won the game and were heading into the finals, the cheering deafening him and the bleachers rumbling. He stay seated as he watched the team throw Jimin into the air, chanting his name with affection and pride, his smile so big and his eyes twinkling in crescents, did the realization finally dawn on him.
Jungkook couldn’t stop grinning.
“You’re a star.”
He didn't even bother to try and deny his feelings the next time Taehyung teased him about it.
(("...Tae, you showed him the pictures, didn't you?"
"...Maybe."
"Oh my fucking-- Kim Taehyung!"
"Ow-- hey! On the bright side, he doesn't think you're creepy at all! In fact, he legit thinks you're pretty cute."
"I hate you so much."))