Archive of Our Own

Jungkook hadn’t envisioned staying in Seoul beyond his two-years master’s programme at Seoul National University, but life had different plans for him.

Being an art student, he has always had an easy time falling in love, and while Seoul had impressed him with its vibrancy and cultural diversity, it was love which had made him stay in the end. Falling for his professor was not part of the plan either, but Hyunwoo was charming and charismatic and incredibly knowledgeable about every aspect of the Korean art scene. What had started off as a simple request to learn more in the form of private tutoring, quickly turned into late nights at the professor's studio where the lines between student and teacher became more blurred than the strokes of the brush in a 19th century impressionist painting. 

Now Jungkook is a few months shy of graduating, which means that they won’t have to keep their relationship a secret for much longer. Last night Huynwoo had even invited him to a gathering of his friends and colleagues, an affair which the young man had been impossibly nervous about, mainly because he wasn’t known to be the most social person, and all of Hyunwoo’s acquaintances were highly educated and respected in the Korean cultural field.

To say he felt out of place would have been an understatement.

Then again, he’d felt sort of misplaced all his life.

Jungkook was born in Korea, but had migrated to Canada — his mother’s native country, where she’d been adopted to — at the age of three with his parents and older brother. The only connection he had to his roots were his grandparents on his father’s side, whom he’d talk to in rusty Hangul over phone a few times a year. 

They were never really close — even before his whole family had migrated, they’d moved around a lot domestically due to his father’s work, until it took them overseas and out of Korea for good. It wasn’t until later that Jungkook realized just how strained his father’s relationship to his parents had been, probably why he’d distanced himself and his children from their native country in the first place. It was never revealed to him what had happened in the past for things to turn so frigid. The only thing Jungkook had been able to puzzle out was that his grandparents had come from Busan, and that his father had not been well-off growing up. He’d been the first in his family to graduate University, the first to travel out of the country. 

His humble beginnings wasn’t something Jungkook’s father liked to discuss.

So when his grandmother suggested Jungkook apply to study in South Korea, he saw it as an opportunity not only to develop his skills as a painter, but also get in touch with his roots. Unfortunately, by the time he’d been accepted to study Painting for his Master’s in Fine Art at SNU,  his grandmother had passed, her husband following soon after.

One of Jungkook’s biggest regrets in life has been not being able to go to their funerals, but his father had been adamant on attending them alone. 

“We have to know where we come from to truly know who we are.” 

This was something Hyunwoo told him often, and a statement Jungkook has a hard time grasping. He’s spent the last two years in Seoul, and while his Korean has improved significantly, he still isn’t sure he’s any closer to figuring out who he is, even if he’s come to the place where he is from.

When Hyunwoo had surprised him with tickets to the Haerang rail cruise — an early graduation present — Jungkook had honestly been surprised. The man, although sweet and considerate with his words in private, wasn’t the type to show affection in public. The two hadn’t spent much time together outside of Hyunwoo’s studio and office, so when he’d handed Jungkook this gift, stating it could be a great way for him to learn more about the ”real” Korea which could only be discovered outside of Seoul, he’d truthfully gotten a little emotional. 

Perhaps he isn’t being honest to Hyunwoo about the extent of his feelings towards the man, or even to himself for that matter, but he figures the trip could be the start of a real relationship, one which isn't halted by moral obstacles such as Jungkook being the professor’s student. 

It is a fantasy he’s painted wearing rose-tinted glasses, which he is reminded of the very next day. 

“You’re not coming?” Jungkook doesn’t mean to sound so naive asking the question, but he has a hard time masking his disappointment. The result is a whiny pout, like that of a petulant child being denied his favorite candy bar. 

“I’m sorry, Jungkook. They need me at the University tonight.”

Hyunwoo’s voice is neutrally austere, if that even is a thing. Jungkook is a painter. He’s not exactly known for being good with words. All he knows is that Hyunwoo always sounds so sure of himself, and it leaves little room for argument. 

“I was looking forward to us going together.”

The older man chuckles. 

“This was a gift for you. I’ve already traveled all around Korea. I thought it would be nice for you to have the opportunity to as well.” Jungkook bites his lower lip, mind blank trying to come up with a reply. When he doesn’t, Hyunwoo continues. “Your twenties are all about exploring. Seeing what the world has to offer. I don’t think I’ve learned more about myself than when I traveled across Eurasia for three months when I was your age. This is only three days, of course, but I think it would be beneficial for you.”

The belittling. 

It’s one of the less attractive traits of his boyfriend. Hyunwoo sometimes makes his journeys sound like tales from adventure novels, though Jungkook has learned over the course of their relationship he adds hyperbole with a heavy hand to them. The younger might not have traveled land and sea with nothing but the clothes on his back like Hyunwoo apparently has in the past, but he came to Korea all by himself, not knowing anyone, and he thinks that should count as something. 

He doesn’t express it though. There’s no point in starting a fight when Hyunwoo has done nothing but been nice enough to buy him this expensive train ticket to explore the country his father grew up in, all expenses paid. It’s not his fault the professor suddenly needs to work.

“You know what? ” the man on the other line says, almost as if he can hear the younger’s mind racing through the phone. “How about I jump on a morning flight tomorrow and meet you in Busan for the night? ”

Jungkook flinches in surprise.

“Really? You would do that?”

“I mean I can only stay the night, I’ll have to go back to Seoul the next day… but if it means this much to you, I’ll make it happen.”

Jungkook isn’t sure if it's his heart which jumps in his chest, or whether it’s just the bumpy road the bus he’s currently sitting in is taking. They're almost at the train station, the rail cruise scheduled to leave in thirty minutes.

He nods against the phone, almost forgetting Hyunwoo can’t actually see him.

“I’d really like that.”

“Alright, it’s settled. I’ll have my assistant book us a room in Busan,” Hyunwoo hums, satisfied now that he’s managed to put his lover in a better mood. “I have to go. I’ll call you later, and you can tell me all about your day, okay? It’ll be like I was there myself. Maybe try to make some friends, huh? It’ll make your time less lonely.” 

This is another issue they often discuss; Hyunwoo thinks it’s strange how small Jungkook keeps his circle. He has a few friends he’s made in University — Taehyung and Namjoon, both art majors like him — but no one he hangs out with on a daily basis.

Jungkook doesn't really find it an issue; he is naturally introverted, and finds socializing quite draining. It was why he’d picked up painting in the first place.

Nonetheless, he promises Hyunwoo he’ll give it a try.

Mood: The Cardigans - Lovefool

＝＝＝

Navigating the train station isn’t an easy task, especially when it’s your first time doing so.

By the time Jungkook finds the right platform, he’s already running late. Luckily, he’s packed lightly, the straps of his backback securely tightened around his shoulders as he jogs towards the train where a member of staff is welcoming the passengers.

Once at the entrance, he fishes out his phone from the pocket of his jacket, scrolling through his saved images to find the ticket.

Compartment no 13.

The cabin is located towards the head of the train, but he’s entered from the tail, so he has to walk through a few carriages to get to his own. He strolls along the narrow corridor, careful not to bump into the other passengers who are taking off their coats and maneuvering their luggage inside the cabins.

The door is closed when he finally reaches it. He finds it a little strange, because it contradicts what the staff member had told him upon entering the train, but doesn’t give it much thought, instead reaching to his back pocket where he’d slipped the keycard he’d received a few minutes ago, beeping it against the electronic lock.

To his surprise, the compartment isn’t empty. 

The man on the bed jumps, startled, as if caught red handed doing something he isn’t supposed to. Underneath him, the comforter of the bed is ruffled, and the cushions lay scattered on the floor. It almost looks like he’s jumped on the bed, which is a little weird in and of itself, but more so because he looks to be the same age as Jungkook. The man’s cheeks turn a blushed pink, to match the color of his hair where the dark roots haven’t grown yet, eyes wide as he scans Jungkook’s face who stands bewildered at the door. 

“What are you doing?”

Somehow this is the first question that pops into Jungkook's mind. Not “Who the fuck are you?” or “Why are you in my cabin? ”, the more obvious things he should be worried about right now.

For a moment the man looks panicked, but the emotion only flashes in his eyes briefly and is quickly replaced by something more assured. 

“I could ask you the same thing,” he scoffs, raising his brows as he leans back, making himself comfortable against the backrest of the sofabed and pulling up his knees, which are sporting different colors of purple and blue, to his chest. He’s wearing bleached denim shorts, paired with socks that come up his calves, the whole ensemble topped off with a light blue furry zipped hoodie. 

The clothing items individually are all so eccentric, somehow they just work together. 

The man’s confidence throws Jungkook off for a loop. He looks at the ticket still pulled up on his phone, taking a few steps back to confirm that it has the same number as the one on the door. 

“I-I have compartment nr. 13,” he stutters, eyeing between the door and the ticket, scratching his head in the process. “There must be some mistake-”

“I don’t know, man. This is the cabin they gave me,” the man on the bed sighs, fishing out a lollipop from his pocket and starting to unwrap it. Once he’s successfully removed the plastic, he promptly puts the lollie in his mouth, cheeks sucked in as the lips curl around the candy.

“Oh. Okay. Well, I guess I can go ask the staff if-”

“No!” The pink haired man jumps up, almost choking on the lollipop in his mouth, the globe making a loud plop sound as it’s hastily drawn out. They share a long look, both assessing the strange situation and encounter. “Is it just you?” the man on the bed asks, glancing at the bed opposite of him which is still made neatly, the complimentary confection waiting for Jungkook on the cushion. 

What he really wants to do is say no and come up with some excuse about how Hyunwoo is just running late and will be here any minute, but his head is already a mess from the unexpected turn of his trip. It was bad enough that he was going alone — now he’s stuck in a cabin with some stranger with pink hair and an attitude problem.

“You don’t have a ticket do you?” he asks sourly instead, not really answering the stranger’s question, nor expecting a reply to his own. 

The stranger sighs.

“Look, I really need to get to Busan and money’s kind of tight at the moment,” the pink haired man says, not like he’s worried he’ll get kicked out, but more like he’s annoyed at having to explain himself. “The train will leave any minute, which means I won’t be able to get off before the next stop either way. The other bed is free right? All I’m asking is that I can use it until we get to Busan, and I promise you’ll never have to see me again.”

If it really was such an emergency, Jungkook imagines the man might do a bit more pleading, or at the very least sound polite . Instead, he’s scowling at Jungkook, like he’s just another obstacle in the way of him making it to his destination. 

What he really should do is go alert the staff of the freeloader. If he’s managed to sneak his way into this train, who knows what else he’s capable of? He doesn’t exactly look like a model citizen either. Now that he's paying attention, Jungkook can get a whiff of cigarettes and booze, probably remnants of whatever drug-fuelled rave the man has stumbled from last night. 

He should say no, but somewhere in the back of his head, there’s the disparaging voice of his boyfriend telling him he’s uninteresting and unimaginative. Not that Hyunwoo has used those words exactly, but the intent is there. 

He’s always felt a little inferior in his company, perhaps due to the power dynamics of the relationship. At the beginning it was exciting, but as their relationship has evolved, he’d hoped the imbalance might have evened out a bit more than it has.

Or, maybe Jungkook sees this as a way to get back at his lover for leaving him in this way — he’s sure Hyunwoo wouldn’t be very pleased to hear he’d shared their cabin with a complete stranger, especially someone who is seemingly the complete opposite of the educated and put-together professor, only because he didn’t bother to show up. 

He won’t tell Hyunwoo any of this, of course, but it gives him some peace of mind nonetheless.

“Just stay on your side of the cabin,” Jungkook settles with as he closes the door behind him and throws his backpack in the corner of his bed. He figures it will be more of a hassle to deny the man his request — he doesn’t exactly look like the type not to put up a fight, which is something Jungkook absolutely does not have the energy for today. “And don’t talk to me.”

The pink haired man smirks, resuming his position laying back against the wall, the lollipop traveling back into his mouth. 

“It’ll be like I’m not even here.”

＝＝＝

The first hour is rather painless.

A little after the train begins rolling away from the station, Jungkook’s new compartment-mate informs him he’s going to explore the locomotive, hopping off the bed with the now eaten lollipop stick in his mouth.

Once he’s gone, Jungkook mainly spends time watching the scenery outside his window change from bustling Seoul with its skyscrapers and busy commuters making their way to work in the morning, to the much more green and serene scenery of the capital’s outskirts. 

The strangers don’t see each other for an hour or so, but when the pink-haired man returns, the peaceful ambience in the cabin is definitely broken. 

Jungkook can hear the clink clank of glass bottles outside the compartment door before it opens, his roommate carrying a full plastic bag around his left forearm, haphazardly putting it down on the table between their beds before shutting the door behind him. Once he’s seated, he starts pulling out a bunch of snacks, including two bottles of peach soju.

“Can you believe all of this was free?” he says, eyes almost glistening as he marvels at the selection of goodies in front of him. 

Jungkook really doesn’t understand what the man finds so great about snacks you can quite literally get from a convenience store. He doesn’t answer, instead fishing out the book Namjoon had recommended him from his backpack. 

Just as he’s opened it to the first page and is about to start reading, the man opposite him interrupts again.

“You want one?” he asks, reaching over the other soju bottle, rattling it a little, the liquid inside sloshing around. 

“It’s ten in the morning,” Jungkook says flatly, the disapprovement apparent in his voice. The pink-haired man, who had looked a little hopeful he would manage to make a drinking buddy out of his cabin mate, pulls the bottle back to himself, giving Jungkook a death stare.

“Yeah, well, hangovers and motion sickness don’t really go well together,” he says offhandedly, spinning open the cork of the bottle and taking a swig. “More for me!” he says in a chirpy voice once he’s done, a mockingly sweet smile on his lips. 

Jungkook just sinks deeper into his seat, bringing the book in front of his face to block out the distraction in front of him. 

45 minutes later, he’s still stuck on page ten, reading the same sentence over for probably the fifteenth time. Honestly, he hasn’t been able to focus on the book at all, his mind drifting away from the words on the page every time his cabin mate giggles at the manhwa he’d picked up not shortly after having finished the first bottle of soju. He’s moved on to the second now, the one Jungkook had rejected, and it seems the liquor has gotten to his head, because Jungkook can’t for the life of him believe the comic he’s reading is as funny as he makes it out to seem.

Not to mention, there’s this buzzing sound coming from the handbag that the man has hung on the hook above his head, most likely from a cell phone. For some reason, the pink haired man doesn’t pay it any mind, eyes glued on the comic, the mouth of the bottle moving to and from his lips.

After what has to be the fortieth ring, Jungkook drops the book in his lap dramatically. 

“Aren’t you going to get that?” he asks, annoyed, eyes glancing at the bag. Now, that he gives it a better look, he takes in the shiny leather and the dainty silver details. It’s definitely an expensive purse, one you’d find hanging around the arm of some Seoul socialite — not a hitchhiker on a train he doesn’t have a ticket for. 

Before the man has the opportunity to give some sort of explanation which might convince Jungkook he hasn’t stolen the purse, there’s a knock at the door, a female staff member asking for permission to open it. 

The pink haired man quickly does so, seeing it as an opportunity of not having to explain all the things about him which just aren’t adding up.

“Mr. Jeon and Mr. Son, hope you’ve enjoyed your trip with us so far,” the staff worker says politely standing at the foot of the door, looking between the two. She probably thinks the pink-haired man is Hyunwoo, because those are the names in their booking information, Jungkook realizes. It makes him a little nervous, because the art student isn’t a good liar, nor does he particularly enjoy doing it, but the other man looks completely unfazed, smiling back at the woman. 

“Yes, it’s been wonderful,” he says in a syrupy sweet voice, and Jungkook can suddenly understand how he’s managed to get on the train uninvited; he looks so natural slipping into the role of Jungkook’s travel partner, he almost has Jungkook fooled. 

“I’m pleased to hear that,” the woman says with a little bow, taking out the tablet she’s been holding behind her back. “We’ll be arriving at Suncheon station in about an hour and I just wanted to confirm that we have a private table booked for you for lunch, just as you have requested.”

Jungkook curses internally. He hadn’t even thought about the fact that the trip includes a bunch of activities that he would now have to do alone. Meanwhile, the man opposite him lets out a genuine sounding wow as the staff member wishes them farewell and closes the door behind her. They sit quietly a little while after, until the pink-haired one breaks the silence.

”So, which one am I? Mr. Jeon?” he asks, watching Jungkook intently, who had his gaze in his lap, trying to keep his face neutral, knowing he’s doing a terrible job. ”Or Mr. Son?” 

He feels a lump in his throat appear out of nowhere, and he quickly swallows it down before it comes out as a spluttering cough.

Jungkook knows he’s been caught.

”Alright, Mr. Son it is,” the man continues smugly, and although Jungkook won’t give him the satisfaction of looking at him, just the tone of his voice clearly signifies just how happy he is with himself that he’s managed to fish the answer out of Jungkook, even if he hasn’t said a word throughout the conversation. “Although I would prefer Jimin,” he adds, making himself comfortable and picking up the manhwa which he’d discarded earlier when they were interrupted. 

“I told you not to talk to me,” Jungkook simply replies, looking up at the man for the first time. Jimin, as he’s just told him his name is — if it even is his real name — stares back at him with a nonchalant expression, except for the corner of his mouth which twitches just slightly.

“I just thought it would be nice for you to at least know my name if we’re going to have lunch together in an hour.”

Jungkook scoffs.

“We’re not having lunch. I am having lunch. It’s my reservation.”

The way Jimin’s eyebrows knit together, he looks genuinely hurt. 

“You're really going to let me starve?”

For a minute Jungkook almost starts feeling bad, but then he remembers he’s talking to the hitchhiking, purse-stealing con-man. This is exactly what they do — play on your emotions to get what they want. 

“You have your snacks don’t you? I’m sure you’ll manage,” Jungkook says casually. He’s usually not this cold, but all of the events from this morning have put him on the edge and he’s feeling defensive. He actually feels a little triumphant when he takes in the surprise on Jimin’s face. The man clearly thought he had Jungkook all figured out the minute he stepped in the cabin, was being all pompous about it too, which has only resulted in Jungkook hell-bent on proving just how wrong he is.

“Fine,” Jimin says sharply, jumping up from the bed and fetching the purse hanging above his head, bringing the strap over his fluffy jacket and securing it tightly under his arm. Next, he gathers the snacks, most of which he’s already dug into, throwing the opened baggies in the larger plastic one, and pulling it to his chest, as if scared someone will take it away from him. “Guess I’ll go and get my lunch then.”

He leaves the cabin without another word and Jungkook doesn’t see him again before they’re at the station.

Despite what he told himself earlier, stepping out of the train, there’s a heaviness settled in his stomach which he very much recognizes as guilt.

＝＝＝

“Are you still waiting for someone, Sir?”

The waiter has walked by a few times since he was first led to his table. Clearly, he knows the reservation is for two people — the minute Jungkook had sat down, he’d poured water in both glasses on the table, saying he’d be back with the menu s — plural — shortly. 

Jungkook didn’t have the heart to tell him it would just be him, so he settled with a nod and a thanks, and slowly sipped his water as he watched the little market square just outside his window. 

Now, his glass is almost empty and the waiter is definitely catching onto the fact that he’s there alone. Jungkook hopes the man doesn’t think he’s been stood up because that is definitely not the case. Just as he’s about to open his mouth and explain that his lunch companion is unable to make it, his attention is directed towards the market square and the delightful laughter of children.

In the flurry of the flapping wings of a hoard of pigeons, he catches a glimpse of cotton candy pink hair.

Jimin’s snacks are scattered on the gray tiles, the birds relentless as they flap their wings trying to get a bite of the pieces that have flown out of his plastic bag.

They’re ferocious, but so is Jimin, who’s cursing up a storm, face red as he growls at the birds who are fervently attempting to steal his lunch.

The only ones he’s successful in shooing away are the children who have gathered around to watch the spectacle, and are now being pulled away by concerned mothers covering their ears.

"Actually,” Jungkook starts, laughing a little under his breath at the way Jimin is still trying to swat away the birds. "That’s my companion right there,” he says to his own surprise, finger pointing at the pink-haired man.

"Oh?” the waiter replies, looking a little befuddled as he takes in the scene from outside, where Jimin is still squaring off one last bird. "D-do you want me to go and fetch him?”

"That would be kind of you,” he says, and the waiter scurries off, leaving Jungkook alone wondering what the hell he’s gotten himself into. 

Jimin is silent as he approaches the table.

He doesn’t remove his jacket, nor does he say a thing as he sits down and grabs the menu, eyes scanning the items, Jungkook doing the same.

When the waiter finally returns to take their order, Jimin oddly settles for a side salad. Neither Jungkook nor the waiter question it, and once the former has placed in his order of a steak sandwich with a side of fries, he turns his attention to Jimin.

“Full from all of your snacks?” he asks amused, alluding to the light lunch the man has ordered. 

Jimin scoffs. 

“You just about found the most expensive restaurant in town,” he replies, and the smile on Jungkook’s face fades when he realizes Jimin probably couldn’t afford anything else. He feels a little bad.

“I could’ve paid for the both of us, you know.”

Jimin laughs, and luckily, he doesn’t sound as bothered as before.

“What is this, a date ?” he asks, taking a sip of his water and eyeing Jungkook curiously. When he doesn’t reply, Jimin puts down the glass and reclines in his seat. “I know it isn’t. It’s your reservation, after all. I’m merely filling in for Mr. Son. Think of me as your escort for the day.”

Jimin wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at the joke (God, Jungkook hopes it is a joke), and the art student feels the blush creep on his face again. 

If there’s one thing he’s learned about the man in their short time together, it’s that he is very bold. 

“Speaking of...” the pink-haired one continues, picking up the fork and twirling the outer point against the table. “Any special occasion for this trip? Or are you just super rich and take luxury train rides on the whim?”

“No, I'm not super rich,” Jungkook laughs. He’s well off, but he definitely wouldn’t be able to afford this trip if Hyunwoo hadn’t paid for it. “It was a gift. I’m graduating soon. Master of Arts.”

“Aah,” Jimin says, hitting the fork a little against the table. “Makes sense.”

“How so?”

Before Jimin has the time to respond, the food they’d ordered a little while back is brought to the table. Jungkook places his side of fries strategically in between them, hoping it’ll give Jimin the signal he’s free to eat from them as well. 

He immediately does, fingers plucking one of the fries on the top and plopping it into his mouth. 

“The whole broody artist vibe you have going on,” he says with the french fry hanging out of his mouth, another in between his fingers which he’s using to wave in Jungkook’s direction. 

“I’m not broody !” Jungkook exclaims, to which Jimin responds with an amused scoff. 

“Oh, really? So your pissy attitude towards me has nothing to do with the fact that you got stood up on your trip?” All of a sudden, what has started off as lighthearted banter quickly leaves the mood sour. Jimin notices this too, quietly bringing the french fry in his hand to his lips and eating it in one go. “Whatever the reason, he must be a fool for letting a pretty little thing like you go on this trip alone. These cities you’re visiting are full of dangerous people, you know. You never know who you might end up having to share a cabin with,” he says as he wipes his hands together to clap away the excess salt. 

It’s definitely not what he expects Jimin to say after their bickering, and he doesn’t know whether he’s more stunned about the fact that the man has just clearly alluded to himself being a criminal or that Jimin has basically called him ‘pretty’.

“I’m pretty sure I’m at least half a head taller than you. I think I can hold my own,” he settles with, working hard to not let the smile creeping on his lips show.

Jimin, on the other hand, laughs generously, lips stretched over pearly white teeth. 

“It’s a figure of speech, Jeon,” he chuckles, and Jungkook can’t help but to laugh as well because it definitely isn’t one, but Jimin says it with such confidence it probably should be. This time, the man brings a forkful of green salad to his mouth, his eyes turning genuine. “But seriously, why didn’t he come on the trip? It’s obviously bothering you. Just use me to, I don’t know, vent about the asshole.”

“He’s not an asshole,” Jungkook sighs, digging into his sandwich as well. “He’s just… busy.”

“Too busy for you ?! Has he seen your face?” Jimin exclaims a little too loudly, some of the other patrons sitting a few tables over turning to look in their direction. 

“I thought we both agreed on this not being a date. I don’t know why you keep commenting on how I look?” he asks, embarrased, hoping to steer the conversation away from Hyunwoo. 

“Look, I can think you’re a pretentious artsy snob and still find you conventionally handsome, okay? What’s that saying? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder ? You should know that better than anyone, being an art student and all.”

“Right,” Jungkook nods his head, taking another bite of his food, feeling hot in the face. “Hyunwoo had to work but he’s meeting me in Busan. So it’s all good,” he continues, quickly steering the conversation away from himself before Jimin has time to ask any further questions or comment on the fact that it’s not all fine. “What about you then? What’s in Busan?”

“Home,” Jimin answers unequivocally, busy finishing the fries, his salad mainly untouched.

“Okay, so what were you doing in Seoul?"

Jimin shrugs his shoulders. “Business,” he replies, a little more crudely, wiping off his face with the napkin, clearly sensing that his curt answers are starting to annoy Jungkook.

“Business? What kind of business?”

“None of yours,” the pink-haired man says in a faux-deep voice, one to imitate those old Korean gangster films his father used to watch from time to time. He isn’t able to hold up the act for long, doubling over the table as he breaks into a fit of giggles and almost knocks the tall jug with water over. 

His lunch with Jimin is turning out to be a lot more chaotic than what their dates with Hyunwoo usually are. It’s not like Jungkook doesn’t like to talk about art and literature, but keeping the conversation more casual is a breath of fresh air which he definitely welcomes. 

“You never told me where you’re from,” Jimin says after he’s calmed down, Jungkook working on the last bits of his sandwich which he’s somehow managed to eat throughout the banter. 

“I was born here in Korea, but I moved to Canada when I was very little, so I don’t remember much from my childhood here. I’ve been living in Seoul for the past two years though.” Jimin merely hums in reply, sensing Jungkook isn’t done talking. “My grandparents were actually from Busan. I just think it’s important to know where we’re from to really know who we are, you know?”

It doesn’t sound the same coming from his mouth as it does said by Hyunwoo. When he says it, there’s a sense of importance and gravity to the words, like the trip will reveal something grand about Jungkook’s identity. It’s not something Jungkook’s really put much thought into during his trip so far, the majority of his time having been devoted to making a mental list of all the things he’s found frustrating about his current cabin-mate. 

“It’s what this trip is about, I guess,” he concludes, a lot less confidently than what he started off with.  

Jungkook expects Jimin to start questioning him, considering so far he’s liked to disagree with most things he’s said.

Instead, he raises his brows, and nods a few times.

”Cool,” he says, scooting his chair back, not even checking whether Jungkook is really done with his food. ”Should we start heading back?”

”Heading back?” Jungkook asks, confused, before he realizes Jimin probably knows nothing about the rail cruise itinerary. ”The train stays here overnight. We’re not heading towards Busan until early tomorrow morning.”

Jimin stops in his tracks, waiting for Jungkook to tell him he’s kidding. When he doesn’t, he curses a little under his breath, visibly irritated by this newly revealed information.

”What the hell are we supposed to do in Suncheon all night?!”

Jungkook chuckles, also getting up from his seat and fishing out his wallet from the breast pocket of his jacket. He leaves enough money on the table to pay for both of their lunches, Jimin too distracted to make any comment about it.

”Well, next there’s the three-hour tour around Naganeupseong Folk Village and after tha-”

”THREE HOURS?” 

This time Jungkook is pretty sure half the restaurant turns around to look at them, and he makes sure to usher the pink-haired one out the door before he draws any more attention to them.

＝＝＝

Surprisingly, Jimin hangs around on the tour for about an hour. He spends the majority of that time role-playing as a king of the Joseon dynasty, calling Jungkook a peasant and demanding to have him executed for different crimes which get more outlandish with each one he comes up with.

He would have probably found it funny, hadn’t he spent his time apologizing to the elderly woman acting as their tour guide who kept throwing the pink-haired one shady looks everytime one of his monologues interrupted hers. He probably should have just acted as if he had no clue who Jimin was, but considering he is the one who dragged his compartment companion with him on the tour, he feels partly responsible for the show his new acquaintance is putting on. 

It isn’t until the tour guide learns to ignore Jimin that he finally bores of riling her up, announcing to Jungkook that he has to take care of something before leaving rather abruptly without so much as a goodbye. 

Jungkook continues the tour without him, and tries to focus on what he is here to learn in the first place — the history of the people of which he too has derived. Although interesting, he can’t deny the atmosphere isn’t a little dull now that Jimin isn’t there. 

Towards the end of the tour Jungkook has, despite his best efforts, fallen to the back of the group, mind wandering anywhere but to the monotone voice of the tour guide. Last he was actively listening, she was explaining the process of making pottery using a specific type of clay that could be found in the area, which left the student contemplating on whether he’d ever before experienced an hour going by as slowly as this one had. 

Instead of joining the others in the hunt for the miracle clay which can apparently be found in the soil, Jungkook steps away, fishing out his phone from his pocket and dialing Hyunwoo’s number. 

Mood: The Temper Trap - Sweet Disposition

They don’t often talk on the phone, but the older had promised Jungkook that he’d be in contact with him, and so far it has been radio silence. It’s already a little past five, meaning that the professor should be done with his lectures at the University, and since Jungkook doesn’t know how much spare time he’ll have to talk later as the tour continues with a kimchi workshop, he justifies calling his boyfriend now.

The phone rings several times — so many that Jungkook actually contemplates hanging up — but eventually the person on the other line answers. 

“Hello? ” Hyunwoo sounds a little breathless as he answers, as if he’s run to the phone.

“Did I call you at a bad time?” Jungkook jokes, but there’s an insecurity to the tone. He doesn’t want the man to think he’s calling him because he misses him, but at the same time, he hopes Hyunwoo does miss him, especially now that he couldn’t make it to the trip. 

It’s a paradox he can’t quite wrap his head around.

Hyunwoo chuckles warmly. “Of course not. I just wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon. I was going to call you a bit later.”

“I have some time now so I figured I’d call. I wasn’t sure if I would have time later,” he says, a little more curtly than he means to. Jungkook knows it’s his way of ‘punishing’ Hyunwoo, although he doesn’t think it’s very effective. It’s one of the frustrating things about dating an older man — the usually bickering and push-and-pull of a younger relationship is sort of lost, and in a strange way, it’s something he misses at times. 

“I see,” the man answers, just as cordially as before, proving Jungkook’s assumptions correct. “Have you had a good time? Made any new friends?”

It’s the perfect gateway question to go into the second phase of his plan to make Hyunwoo at least a little bit sorry about missing the trip, but knowing the man, he probably wouldn’t be jealous about Jungkook spending time with someone as ‘uncultured’ as Jimin. So, he ends up conveniently leaving out the parts of his day involving Jimin, which are the majority of it, and his recollection of the day so far ends up sounding rather lonesome. 

Just as he's about to tell Hyunwoo about the rest of the schedule for the night, he suddenly hears another voice in the background.

“Are you not home yet?” 

Hyunwoo clears his voice, clearly a little taken back by the question. 

“Uh, no. I’m at the studio, actually. It’s part of the reason why I had to stay behind. One of my students has a showcase coming up and I’m helping her with the final touches.”

Jungkook feels his heart plunge to his stomach, not because what Hyunwoo is saying isn’t plausible, but because it hits too close to home. It’s exactly how their fling had started in the first place, and while he understands that his boyfriend’s opinion is highly valued — it was why he himself had sought out his guidance a few years back — he also knows that spur-of-the-moment private tutoring lessons aren’t something that the University offers, at least not officially.

Plus there’s the fact that when Jungkook first started getting to know the professor, he wasn’t the only student the man was seeing, something he unfortunately learned after the fact. It took a lot of time and convincing from the professor to assure Jungkook that he’d stopped seeing anyone else. He knows a lot of the insecurities he feels about their relationship stems from that first mishap, which is why Hyunwoo has taken it as a habit to tell Jungkook when he is tutoring a student, not to cause any misunderstandings. 

To his knowledge, Hyunwoo isn’t instructing anyone privately at the moment. It only makes the news of him so suddenly having to stay in Seoul all the more suspicious, and Jungkook knows he knows it too. 

“Jungkook-” Hyunwoo sighs on the other line, but by this point, the younger has had enough surprises for one day. 

“I have to go,” he says, thankful that he isn’t technically lying as he sees the group he’s abandoned walk in the direction of the bus they’d taken to the village. “They’re calling us back to the bus.”

“I’m booking the flight when I get home, okay? I’ll text you my arrival time once I know it.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jungkook says, trying his best to sound at least a little bit excited in fear that Hyunwoo will end up canceling his early morning flight all together. He hangs up the phone with a quick bye, the onslaught of a headache prickling at his temples, taking a deep breath before turning around to walk towards the rest of the group. 

He hasn’t had time to take more than a few steps before he hears someone call his name from behind. 

When he turns, he sees Jimin flailing his arms excitedly, signaling for Jungkook to come over. The student gives him a confused look, leering at the rest of the tourist group as they slowly begin to board the bus, but hearing as Jimin won’t stop yelling his name before he’s given Jungkook’s full attention (something the student has come to learn Jimin loves to have) he opts to quickly jog over to the pink-haired man.

“The bus is about to leave,” he says when he finally reaches Jimin, the other glaring at him in reply.

“Yes, I read the itinerary and there’s no way in hell we’re taking that fucking kimchi class.”

“Why not?” Jungkook asks, his brain grasping onto the way Jimin has used the word we as if they aren’t complete strangers and actual travel companions. “Kimchi is the staple dish of Korean cooking.”

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Jimin says, pulling Jungkook by the sleeve and dragging him towards the opposite direction of where the bus is. “Your kimchi will never be as good as the one your grandma makes. There’s no point in even trying it, honestly.”

Jungkook could probably argue and say he’s never actually had his grandmother’s kimchi, but not to dampen the mood, which has picked up again with the unforeseen re-appearance of his cabin-mate, he keeps his mouth shut. 

“What are we doing then?”

Jimin turns around, a wide grin plastered on his face.

“You wanted to see the real Korea, right?”

＝＝＝

Normally, Jungkook would have declined the offer to follow someone who was technically still a stranger to him. 

He would have ran to the bus, apologized profusely for being late and followed the itinerary, no matter how dull he found it. 

But the trip so far had proven to be one of opposites, which is probably why he lets Jimin lead him to the worn-down car he’s parked behind some shrubs and bushes at the outskirts of the village, the vehicle almost completely hidden by the camouflage. 

Jungkook doesn’t comment on the fact that the pink-haired man doesn’t need to unlock the doors as he steps in, nor does he say a peep when instead of using a key, he kickstarts the engine with a few wires which hang loose under the steering wheel. 

It’s clear the car is stolen, yet he stays quiet as they roll out of the park.

His silence is apparently enough of a signifier of how he feels about the situation, because once they’ve made it out to more open highway, Jimin breaks the silence.

“We’re just borrowing it,” he says, one hand lazily on the steering wheel as he fidgets with the radio in search of something other than static noise. 

“And where exactly are we taking it?” Jungkook asks, watching how the setting sun is lighting the clouds in the horizon a pretty purple.

“Gwanju.”

“Gwanju?” Jungkook exclaims dramatically. He doesn’t usually talk this animatedly, but being in Jimin’s presence, the trait has rubbed off on him. “What the hell is in Gwanju?” he continues, echoing the question the man had asked him earlier about Suncheon.

“A friend,” Jimin replies, not elaborating further. He groans in frustration as he fails to find a working station, the two settling into silence as the static of the radio continues to rattle.

Mood: Agust D - What Do You Think?

They arrive at their destination a little less than an hour later.

“JIMINIE!! ”

The excited shriek can be heard from down the road as soon as the driver has parked the car, a lanky figure running down the small alleyway they’ve stopped next to. Jimin too breaks into a light jog, leaving a befuddled Jungkook behind as he takes in the strange location for their pit stop — it isn’t very central and definitely a place you willingly wander too; he’s pretty sure the pitter patter he hears is the sound of rodents picking through the trash cans pushed to the sides, which is a somewhat good description of what the place smells like too. 

Jimin hugs the man in a way you do when reunited with someone after a long time, and while Jungkook can’t hear exactly what the two talk about, he picks up a few words as he slowly approaches them. 

There’s one particular thing which makes Jimin squeak out a laugh, the other man pointing at Jungkook as Jimin claps him on the arm and shakes his head, as if he’s said something absolutely ridiculous. 

“This is Jungkook,” Jimin says as the student finally catches up to them, Jungkook reaching out his hand towards the man who eagerly takes it and shakes it.

“Hope, nice to meet you,” the man replies, shooting Jungkook a quick smile. “We really ought to be getting inside though. It’s almost starting,” he quickly adds, running a hand through his hair. It’s hard to tell what color exactly it is in the dimly lit alley, but it shifts in different tones of orange and red under the fluorescent lights. He turns around and starts walking in the direction where he’d run from, Jimin following him, neither elaborating on what they’re about to be late from.

“This isn’t like some human trafficking thing?” Jungkook asks under his breath as he jogs up to Jimin, who laughs a little, but neither confirms nor denies. Instead, he picks up speed, Jungkook following along, his heart thrumming in anticipation. “All that talk about me being good looking is starting to make sense now.”

“You really think I’d lure you here only to sell you to the highest bidder? I thought we’d established some level of trust,” he answers, glancing in Jungkook’s direction with that mischievous grin on his face. “Plus, I’d much rather keep you all to myself.”

He’s not sure at what point their friendly banter has steered towards being this flirty, but Jimin doesn’t seem fazed by the comment he’s made, which strangely puts Jungkook’s mind at ease as well. 

This is clearly just how Jimin is. He’s fun. Flirty. The type to live in the moment and hit on whomever he finds fit. 

Before he has time to come up with a witty reply, he hears Hope pull up a metal blind in the distance, the bass thumping under their feet as soon as the sound coming from inside escapes the barrier of what looks like an abandoned warehouse. Inside, however, it is anything but dead. The crowd gathered in the center isn’t large — Jungkook estimates there are around thirty to forty people standing in a disorganized semi circle — but the noise they make as they cheer on the man in the middle holding a microphone is loud enough to give a greater illusion.

It takes a while for him to adjust to the volume — the microphone scratches, only connected to two large speakers on either side of the crows. The man speaking into it mumbles his words, face hidden by the black bucket hat which casts a dark shadow on his face as the overhead light falls directly on him. 

The beat starts out of nowhere, and the man’s whole demeanor changes as he spits into the device, the people watching him erupting into cheers, everyone bumping their heads along to the words which flow out of his mouth. 

Hope has already moved to join the others in the group, his whole body moving along to the beat of the song and next to him, Jimin too is nodding his head, intently watching the performance in front of him. 

“Do you rap?” Jungkook asks, to which Jimin replies with a laugh. He’s noticed the man does that a lot. 

“No,” he answers in short, another one of his habits. Jimin might be talkative, but he’s tight lipped when it comes to revealing anything about himself. Somehow he still feels like a friend, even when he lets so little be known about who he truly is. It’s a charm which leaves you wanting more, although Jungkook wonders whether the decision to keep an aura of mystery surrounding him has more to do with the fact that he definitely dabbles in illegalities.

The performance goes on for another hour or so, the songs changing seamlessly as the words continue riding the wave of the base. Although Jungkook doesn’t consider himself an avid hip hop fan, he finds himself enjoying the way the rapper attacks the beat, turning to comment on verses he finds particularly cool to Jimin every once in a while. He learns the rapper is called Gloss, an up-and-comer in the underground scene and that Jimin’s friend, his real name Hoseok, runs a club which hosts these sorts of events from the warehouse they're currently at. 

It’s a world completely different from the one Jungkook is used to. Graffiti paints the walls surrounding them, and despite the harsh lighting of the spotlights which fall in symmetrical patterns over the people below, the space is oddly warm and inviting. He almost feels over-dressed in his beige long coat and pullover, but Jimin assures him no one is paying attention to them, and slowly Jungkook begins to ease into the atmosphere and put aside his own insecurities. 

Whenever with Hyunwoo, Jungkook is always very considerate of how he presents himself, wanting to put forward a more mature persona, one who sips wine and discusses art and literature with ease. It isn’t always honest, because there are times he finds himself talking about concepts and ideas he hasn’t fully grasped. Sometimes Hyunwoo catches him on this, and while the man doesn’t necessarily make him feel bad about it, it’s always a little embarrassing. Now, however, he doesn’t think twice when asking Jimin something about the music they’re listening to, openly admitting that it’s far from the genres he’s accustomed to. What is perhaps even more surprising is the fact that Jimin doesn’t even bat an eye when he asks him what kind of music Jungkook listens to — IU and Justin Bieber, predominantly — an answer which he’d expected to be received with mockery or at the very least confusion. 

The music he listens to has been somewhat of a guilty pleasure to him — not because anyone has ever teased him about it, but he imagines people would, considering the field of study he has chosen. 

Pop music isn’t exactly considered highbrow, after all. 

Mood: Sigrid - Strangers 

At some point, Hoseok brings them beers, Jimin declining his as he’s driving and hands it to Jungkook, the man now holding one in each hand. The performance ends but is swiftly replaced by a DJ who plays something a little more upbeat, some of the patrons swinging along to the music in what quickly becomes a dancefloor as others gather in smaller groups along its perimeter, the music somewhat drowned out by the murmur of the crowd. 

The artist who had performed earlier in the comes by at some point, briefly introducing himself to Jungkook as¨Yoongi before shifting his focus towards Jimin almost immediately after, teasingly asking him about when Baby J will make another appearance, both the pink-haired man and Hoseok doubling down as they laugh at the inside joke. Jungkook takes a spectating role as the three catch up, which he doesn’t mind the slightest, considering how the alcohol is slowly starting to dilute his senses.

Hoseok in particular makes sure Jungkook doesn’t feel left out, asking him about how he knows Jimin, to which Jungkook simply replies by saying they happened to share the same compartment on the train without going into further detail on the matter. He tells Hoseok about his studies and upcoming graduation which the other reacts to rather dramatically, loudly announcing it through the microphone which conveniently happens to be just as arm’s length away from him, the rest of the crowd erupting into loud cheers in reply. Before he knows it, he’s pushed to the center of the dancefloor, lifted up in a king chair and tossed up and down while the others chant his name.

The night doesn’t slow down after he’s put down either, quite the opposite.

The music is cranked up, the majority of the partygoers now having taken the dancefloor, and Jimin pushes past a few flailing arms before crashing into Jungkook laughing, telling him how he looked like a huge puppy being paraded around and how it was possibly to most adorable thing he’d seen in a while. The story is quickly cut off when the song switches, Jimin exclaiming that it’s one of his favorites as he drags Jungkook back to the center of the floor.

They end up dancing facing each other, sing-shouting the lyrics of whatever hit the DJ is blasting. As the night goes on, the crowd surrounding them pushes them closer together, and that, combined with the fact that the spotlights above have been switched to colorful disco lights which spin around the room (or is it him who is spinning?) makes it hard for Jungkook to focus on anything but the way his whole body feels warm and loose and the way Jimin’s lips are stretched in a wide smile the whole time, his pink hair swaying around his face, dainty fingers pushing the strands which cover his eyes every once in a while. 

He doesn’t believe it when Jimin says it’s almost four in the morning and that they should start making their way back to the train if they want to be sure of catching it. They bid their goodbyes to Hoseok, who tells them to take care. It might just be that he’s drunk, but Jungkook thinks the man looks almost agitated saying it to Jimin, pulling out his pinkie and forcing his friend to do the same, making a promise. Jimin laughs it off, stealing the water bottle Hoseok is holding and handing it to Jungkook before pushing him towards the exit.

The contrast between the mayhem inside and the quietness of the alleyway is stark. Jungkook stays silent the short walk to the car, focusing on drinking the water Jimin has provided for him knowing he’ll wake up with a headache if he doesn’t.

The car is jump started and this time Jungkook watches the process intently, curious to see how Jimin is able to get the engine running without a key.

“I can see my bad influence is starting to rub off on you,” Jimin jokes as he catches Jungkook staring, the brunette grinning. 

“I wouldn’t have followed you here if I thought you had bad intentions, would I?” Jungkook counters, his words a little slurred as he adjusts to volume level outside the warehouse, ears still ringing. “I don’t think you’re a bad guy.”

Jimin looks over in interest. 

“I literally stole this car.”

“No, you borrowed it.” Jungkook corrects him, to which Jimin replies with a chuckle, reaching his right hand to fidget with the radio, this time successful in finding a working channel.

Mood: Desireless - Voyage Voyage 

It takes a while for Jungkook to identify the song that comes on, but by the time that the chorus hits, he recognizes the 80’s synth beat and female voice singing in French in almost a melancholy tone about the desire to travel far away in spaces unheard of by love. The melody teleports him to a memory from his childhood, his mother listening to the radio and singing along as her children giggle at the strange way she rolls her r’s.

He doesn’t realize he’s singing along until Jimin comments on it. 

“What language is that?”

Jungkook immediately stops humming. It’s dark outside, and he’s thankful that Jimin isn’t able to see how his cheeks flare up.

“French.”

“You speak French?”

“A little,” Jungkook replies, staring out through the passenger window. “It was compulsory in school.”

“Teach me something.”

Jungkook looks over, one eyebrow raised, as Jimin continues to watch the road ahead, the dimple on his cheek popping out.

“Something easy, like.. ‘well done’.”

He looks overly confident, which makes Jungkook chuckle, because he’s taken French for the majority of his school years and he knows it’s anything but easy. He sighs, before entertaining Jimin’s request.

“Bien joué.”

“Bien zouu,” Jimin replies immediately after, his lips forming into a pout as he tries the word out on the lips. 

Jungkook snorts and the driver immediately glances over, brows knitted together, the faux-hurt look he’s given him before. 

“What?”

“You’re saying it completely wrong. It’s bien joué.”

Jimin tries a few more times, each new attempt somehow sounding worse than the last, the pink-haired one complaining that he honestly can’t tell the difference between the pronunciations which only results in Jungkook clutching his stomach as he lets the laughs bubble up from the pits of his stomach.

“I asked for something easy,” Jimin whines as Jungkook wipes off the tears which have formed in the corners of his eyes, the radio station they’ve settled on blasting another eighties pop song. “What about I love you? That’s usually easy.”

Jungkook stills. He’s surprised at how carefreely Jimin is able to say the words.

To him, they’ve always been hard. They weren’t used in his family growing up, and they haven’t been said between him and Hyunwoo either. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel them, because he does, perhaps too deeply and too easily. Still, he hasn’t had the courage to say them outloud. 

Jungkook’s kept his love a secret for a long time, and he isn’t about to change that now.

“Va te faire foutre,” he says, biting his lips as soon as he’s done. He’s not usually one to prank people, but knowing Jimin’s the type to get in and out of tricky situations easily, he can’t miss the opportunity of him possibly trying to woo someone with the phrase Jungkook has taught him, not realizing he’s actually telling them to fuck off. Jungkook bites his tongue not to giggle at the way Jimin repeats the curse words, quickly turning his head so he won’t blow his cover. After a while, Jimin’s voice becomes a whisper, and the brunette sinks into the comfort of his soft tone, head resting against the window, his gaze following the streetlights dance against its dark reflection where morning is slowly breaking. 

Before he knows it, he’s fallen asleep.

＝＝＝ 

It feels like he’s shut his eyes for a total of five minutes before Jimin shakes him awake, walking out the driver’s side to inspect the car as Jungkook slowly rubs the sleep out of his eyes and gets out the car. 

They leave the car at the same place where Jimin had first picked it up — a dingy alley somewhere in the outskirts of Suncheon — and are forced to take a rather long walk back to the train.

By the time they reach it and make it to their compartment it’s early morning, and Jimin falls on the bed, only taking off his shoes before he curls up in on himself, the fur of his hood framing his face which looks small and youthful in the darkness of the room. It doesn’t take long for light snoring to be heard, the man exhausted after technically pulling an all-nighter (for the second night in a row too), but Jungkook is surprisingly alert following his nap in the car.

He watches Jimin sleep for a little while, letting his eyes trace the features of his face, the curve of his nose, the way the lips pout a little more with each exhale. It’s been a long time since he’s sketched anything with pencil, but he sees the notebook peek out from the bag which he’s thrown on the floor, so he picks it up, leafing through the pages until he finds an empty one and begins tracing the outlines of the face. For some reason, they are easy to follow, even in the darkness. It’s like the pen has a life of its own, the slide of the graphite effortless on the paper.

It isn’t a grandiose sketch by any means, nothing like the pieces he usually works on. Those take months, the process of building up the colors of the world he’s creating sometimes so meticulous it’s almost frustrating. The drawing in front of him, on the other hand, isn't complicated at all, yet that doesn’t make it any less interesting, and Jungkook think’s that might just be what he finds beautiful about it.

Once he’s done, he closes the notebook, securely placing it back in his bag before following Jimin’s suit, hoping to get at least a few hours of shuteye before they reach Busan.

＝＝＝ 

The chime of his phone wakes Jungkook up.

He reaches out his hand to search for the mobile, luckily successful in grabbing it securely even if he’s searching for it with his eyes closed.

The first thing he sees when he squints his eyes open is that it’s a little past eight, which means he’s successfully slept for a few hours. Right underneath the digital watch, however, is a notification of a text message from Hyunwoo. 

Landing at Gimhae International Airport at 11.30. You should be in Busan by then, right?

There’s no good morning, or asking him how the rest of his day last night went. 

Jungkook knows he shouldn’t feel disappointed — it’s not as if Hyunwoo’s texting game has ever been strong. He’s old school, doesn’t understand the reasoning behind texting someone when you could just say what you want in person. Jungkook replies saying he should be in Busan in a few hours, almost deleting the part where he says he looks forward to seeing Hyunwoo, but ultimately keeping it in.

Just as he sends off the message, someone opens the door, the sweet smell of baked goods invading the space of their small cabin. 

Jungkook had been too sleepy to even notice Jimin hadn’t been in the room, and it seems he has been gone for a good while, his hair only halfway dried from the shower he’s seemingly taken. He’s carrying two take-away coffees in one hand while in the other, he has two paper bags, the sources of the divine smell. He hands the other to Jungkook who immediately checks out its contents, eyes sparkling in anticipation as he finds the warm hotteok inside. 

They eat in silence, both quite hungry since they’d missed dinner last night, and once the pancakes are sitting contentedly in their stomachs, they continue sipping the coffee, watching the scenery change through the window of their cabin.

Last night feels a little like a fever dream, and what feels even stranger is the fact that they’re only an hour away from Busan.

An hour away from never seeing each other again. 

It’s the promise Jimin had made him, after all, in exchange for the bed in his compartment. 

Jimin seems to be thinking of the same thing. He doesn’t look away from the window when he speaks up.

“So what time are you meeting your boyfriend?”

Jungkook doesn’t think he’s ever referred to Hyunwoo as that in front of Jimin, but he guesses it is pretty obvious considering how upset he was in the beginning of the trip about the professor missing it. 

“He’ll be in Busan just a little before noon. I have a few hours to kill before that.”

He’s not sure why he phrases it like that. Maybe he hopes that Jimin will suggest they do something together in Busan, despite his promise. 

He doesn’t. Instead, there’s a sort of unsettling silence in the cabin. It’s night and day from the carefree atmosphere they’d managed to create throughout last night. 

It doesn’t sit right in his stomach. Despite how short their time together might have been, Jimin doesn’t feel like a stranger, not to Jungkook at least. Jimin’s demeanor this morning seems to indicate that the pink-haired man doesn’t think the same way. It’s like he’s actively avoiding Jungkook’s gaze, and even when the brunette tries to keep the conversation from last night flowing, Jimin gives him such short replies in return he ultimately gives up, announcing he’s going to freshen up before they’re scheduled to arrive. 

When he returns to the cabin thirty minutes later and about twenty minutes to their arrival, Jimin is all packed and ready to leave, the man in the process of securing the leather purse around his chest.

“Where are you going?” Jungkook asks, genuinely confused, the expression on Jimin’s face which turns from surprise to guilt gives him his answer. “You were sneaking out.” he fills in on behalf of Jimin, hating how disappointed he sounds.

Jimin picks up the plastic bag with a few miscellaneous snacks left, clearly ready to get going.

“I hate awkward goodbyes,” he says apathetically, attempting to walk past Jungkook who still stands at the entrance, blocking it. It isn’t until Jimin realizes the man isn’t moving that he stops, looking at him questioningly.

“I have a few hours before Hyunwoo shows up,” Jungkook explains, sounding small and uncertain, like he’s some teenager asking someone on a date for the first time. That isn’t what this is, he assures himself. He just wants the company. “I was thinking maybe you could be my guide, since you’re from Busan? You could show me aroun-”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jungkook,” Jimin says, and the student looks up, clearly confused.

“Why not?”

Jimin sighs, and just as yesterday when they’d first met, it’s the kind of annoyed puff of air you let out when things aren’t going your way.

“I don’t think your boyfriend would like you hanging out with me.”

Despite how tight-lipped Jungkook has been about Hyunwoo, even the fact that the man had paid for the trip for two and not shown up sort of implied what social status he came from.

Jungkook really hates the fact that Jimin is comparing himself to the professor, which is a bit ironic, considering he’d initially let the man stay in his cabin for exactly this reason. 

Jungkook shakes his head. “No, he wouldn’t care. He even told me to make friends.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to be just friends with you, Jungkook,” Jimin says, hastily, like he just wants to get it — his confession — over with, and while it is not at all what the student had expected him to say, surprisingly he isn’t that taken back by this revelation. 

Because maybe, he’d felt the same way too. It’s crazy to think that way, Jungkook acknowledges this, because they’ve only known each other for 24 hours and barely know the first thing about one another.

Sometimes, the truth doesn’t make much sense.

“And I’m a good guy, you said it yourself,” Jimin chirps up, his demeanor doing a 180 after his sullen confession as he picks up the plastic bag again, making another attempt at escape. “So, I’m removing myself from the equation before you do something you regret. Because your boyfriend is about to meet you in Busan and you’ll have a lovely rest of the trip with him, just as it was meant to be in the first place.”

Jungkook sort of stands there, dumbfounded, once again in awe of Jimin’s boldness.

This time, when the pink-haired man walks towards him, he steps inside the cabin, opening up the path to the door and letting Jimin walk through it.

The man turns a little once he’s halfway out the door, flashing Jungkook a genuine smile.

“I had fun,” he says, nodding his head slightly as he takes his last goodbye. “And I really appreciate you letting me stay with you. I would’ve been screwed if you hadn’t. So thanks.”

Jungkook can’t bring himself to say anything but mutter a meek you’re welcome in reply, head still trying to process that this is actually a goodbye.

He didn’t think it would be this hard. It shouldn’t be this hard.

Jimin doesn’t say anything else as turns back around and walks away.

The cabin is eerily quiet for the remainder of the journey. It feels dismal and amiss.

Jungkook wonders whether that’s what his trip would have been like, had Jimin not come along.

＝＝＝

It isn’t until he sees the platform of the Busan station slowly roll into view outside his cabin window that Jungkook realizes he’s completely forgotten about his plan to figure out how to kill the time he has before he’s set to meet up with Hyunwoo.

He does a quick google search as he walks out of the train amongst the other passengers, but it does little to peak his interest, even if Busan is meant to be the highlight of his trip — it’s his his grandparent’s birthplace after all, and Hyunwoo is finally joining him just as he’d wanted.

Despite all of this, Jungkook doesn’t feel too happy.

He opts for hopping on a bus which takes him to Jagalchi market, the student taking his time strolling past the different stands selling fish and eels and oysters, not at all caring about the fact that he’ll probably smell like seafood meeting Hyunwoo at the café just outside the hotel the man has booked them for the night.

He does, apparent by the face the cashier who serves him pulls, scrunching her nose as he places his order of two iced americanos and takes a seat by the window where he has an eye on the entrance of the café.

Jungkook is early, and Hyunwoo is notoriously always late, so he doesn’t expect the man to show up straight away, but he keeps an eye out for him either way, heart jumping a little bit every time he sees someone in full frame round glasses walk in through the glass doors of the coffee shop. 

The fact that Hyunwoo hasn’t replied to any of his text asking him whether he arrived safely doesn’t worry him at first — Jungkook trumps it up to there maybe being a delay to his flight, but when thirty minutes have gone by and he’s managed to drink up his coffee while the ice in Hyunwoo’s has diluted into the drink, he finally caves in and dials the man’s number.

The line beeps for a solid twenty seconds before it goes dead.

That’s strange, Jungkook thinks, looking at his phone like there’s something wrong with it.

He tries again, and this time the line only rings a total of three times before it’s disconnected.

This can only mean one thing.

Hyunwoo is declining his call.

The realization hits him so suddenly, he isn’t sure he’s quite understood what exactly is going on.

He tries again.

And again.

And by the 6th try, Jungkook realizes he’s on the brink of tears.

For all the convincing he’s done during the last two days that he isn’t being stood up, he finally caves into the acceptance that it’s exactly what’s happening to him, and the feeling is mortifying.

He’s so caught up in staring at his phone, which shakes slightly as he grasps onto it with both hands and tries not to actually break down and sob in the middle of this café, he’s failed to notice someone is staring at him through the window.

Mood: Clara Klingenström - Behöver inte dig idag

The cotton-candy pink hair shouldn’t be hard to miss, especially when it’s so close he could reach out and touch it if they weren’t separated by glass.

Jimin isn’t there by chance — his expression of pity gives it away immediately, but it quickly turns into something akin to exasperation as he watches Jungkook’s sorry demeanor through the window.

“Fuck. Him!” he shouts, the sound muffled as it comes through the glass but the message very clear by the way the man forcefully enunciates every syllable, a few of the people who happen to stand nearby giving Jimin odd looks as they walk past.

Jungkook can’t help but to laugh, the sound drained yet relieved, and he sniffles a little before picking up the untouched drink and following Jimin outside.

He doesn't say anything as he hands the pink-haired man the americano, who takes a sip out of it, before turning on his heels slowly and leading Jungkook away from the café.

＝＝＝

“Where are we going?” Jungkook asks as they find two seats opposite each other on the otherwise crowded bus, sitting next to an elderly ahjumma and an ahjussi who both carry bags filled with produce they’ve bought from the market. Jimin bows politely as he asks whether the seats are taken, both of them thanking them with bows when they’re assured the seats are free.

“I need to go see my grandmother,” Jimin says, looking out the window as he replies. This must be a bus he takes frequently, so he’s not sure why the man is so interested in watching the scenery outside until he realizes Jimin is avoiding his gaze.

Jungkook smirks. “Did you follow me?” he asks, and Jimin whips his head to look at him like he’s offended.

“No,” Jimin scoffs, and for the first time, Jungkook can tell he's bluffing. He snickers.

“You really just happened to walk past the coffee shop I was supposed to meet him at?” Jungkook asks, still not mentally prepared to talk about how his boyfriend just ghosted him in the rudest way possible 

Jimin sighs. 

“Fine,” he says, flailing his arms and almost hitting the older woman sitting next to him who is clearly trying to listen in on their conversation. “You were all sad and mopey and I felt bad, all right? I just wanted to make sure you were okay, and clearly I had reason to!”

Jungkook swallows, eyes finding his lap at the mention of what has happened.

He feels like an idiot. Even someone who has known him for a little over 24-hours had been able to list out what would happen.

“None of this is your fault,” Jimin says, like he’s read Jungkook’s mind. The student looks up, watching Jimin squirm in his seat under Jungkook’s watchful gaze, but it isn’t his nervous demeanor which catches the brunette's eye. “Just forget about that asshole, okay? He’s not worth feeling this way about.”

It isn’t something Jungkook is ready to accept, so he ignores the advice, fixating on Jimin instead. 

“Where’s your bag?” Jungkook asks, noticing just about everything about Jimin looks the same except for the fact that the clearly stolen purse, which he’d held onto like a lifeline during the whole train ride, is missing from his ensemble.

“I sold it,” Jimin answers, shrugging his shoulders like it isn’t a big deal, not clarifying on the matter further as he stands up and announces they’ll need to get off at the next stop.

The further they walk away from the bus stop, the poorer the neighborhood clearly gets. The houses are all but stacked on top of each other, most of them clearly in need of dire renovation as the alleyway turns narrower and narrower. Finally, Jimin slips in through one of the openings of a house which was once light blue, only a few paint chippings remaining on its coarse wall. 

The house is much nicer on the inside — small and modest, but homely, a well-loved table in the center of what seems to be both the living room and the kitchen.

An elderly woman sits in a reclining chair in front of it, listening to a song coming from the radio, the sound a little scratchy and distorted, but she turns the device off as soon as she sees she has company, Jungkook not missing the way her hand shakes in the process.

“Sonja,” she says through a smile, attempting to get up from her chair, the action proving to be difficult. The pink-haired man rushes to her side, ushering her to sit back down.

“No need to get up for us, Halmoni,” he insists, gently patting her hand as she falls back in the chair and brings her hand up to cup his face.

“If I knew you were coming I would have made something to eat, boy.”

Jimin shakes his head.

“We already ate,” he lies, turning a little to give his grandmother a view of Jungkook who stands sheepishly at the entrance of the house, not wanting to intrude. “This is Jungkook. He’s never been to Busan before so I’m showing him around.”

Jimin’s grandmother attempts a bow and Jungkook immediately reciprocates it.

“Thank you for inviting us to your home,” he says as he’s done, hands coming to clasp the front of his jacket. “It’s lovely.”

The grandmother snickers a little at the compliment. 

“I try my best with what I have,” she explains, looking around her meager home. “Most of it is bought by my Jimin, anyways. He spends too much money on me.”

Jimin doesn’t answer, instead walking towards the kitchenette to his left, opening the refrigerator.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any kimchi, Halmoni?” he asks, eyes scanning the fridge before he locates what he’s looking for, pulling out a plastic container and opening the drawer to his right to pull out two pairs of chopsticks. “I’ve been telling Jungkook he needs to try yours. It's the best in Busan, after all.”

He brings the dish over to the table so that his grandmother can reach it from where she’s sitting, and Jungkook takes a seat on the floor opposite of her. He knows better not to deny a grandmother’s homemade kimchi, even if he never got the opportunity to taste his own.

Jimin stays standing, oddly, fingers digging into the pocket of his furry hoodie and fishing out an envelope which he places on the table closest to his grandmother.

She looks up at him, bewildered.

“For your medication,” Jimin states, clearly not interested in hearing whatever protest his Halmoni is preparing for, and she seems to accept it too, closing her mouth and nodding a few times before pulling him down to plant a gentle kiss at his cheek. 

It’s the money from the purse Jimn sold, Jungkook realizes. All this time he’d thought of Jimin as some greedy thief, when in reality, he was using all the money he made hustling on his aging grandmother. 

Jungkook’s stomach churns, and while part of it might be because the kimchi in front of him actually looks delicious, he knows it mainly stems from guilt.

“I’ll go and see about that leak in your bathroom,” Jimin says, patting his grandmother on the shoulder as he turns to look at Jungkook, pointing a finger at him accusingly. “I better hear only praise about the kimchi when I get back!”

Jungkook chuckles, mostly because the situation is quite absurd. It’s definitely not how he imagined his afternoon in Busan going yesterday, when he’d stepped foot on the train leaving Seoul.

The woman hands him his pair of chopsticks, ushering him to have some of the fermented cabbage which Jungkook plops in his mouth, the grandmother’s eyes wide as she awaits his reaction.

Jimin was right.

There’s no comparing the kimchi to the store-bought stuff he eats at home on the daily.

He hums in delight, the savory and spicy flavors bursting in his mouth. Jungkook takes another mouthful, barely able to give the woman the praise she deserves with how full he’s stuffed his cheeks, but she doesn’t seem to mind, taking a small bite herself as well as they ease into a comfortable silence eating.

“So, what brings you to Busan?” the woman asks him as he’s managed to swallow the majority of the kimchi down.

“My grandparents were from here, actually,” he explains, not caring to go into detail about Hyunwoo and the romantic trip around Korea to seal their relationship which never ended up happening. “They’ve both passed away now. I didn’t get to see them in person before they did, unfortunatel,.” Jungkook continues, Jimin’s grandmother’s expression sort of puzzled and sorry.

“We migrated to Canada when I was three. My dad he-” Jungkook thinks it over, using the napkin the Halmoni has offered to wipe his mouth. “He wasn’t exactly close with his parents. I guess he was… embarrassed?” he says, the realization hitting him suddenly. 

Jungkook has objectively lived a very sheltered but blessed life. He has never had to wish for anything and his father takes a lot of pride in that. Seeing what the man’s life growing up in Korea could have been like, Jungkook is beginning to understand why, though it doesn’t mean he completely agrees with his father’s approach. 

Jimin’s grandmother hums in understanding, placing her chopsticks in the container which is now empty.

“Relationships between parents and their children can be complicated,” she says, lowering her gaze a little as she pulls her hands into her lap. It sounds like she speaks from experience. “But no matter what happens, the love never goes away.”

She looks up, eyes drawn into crinkled crescents and for a split-second, the resemblance to her grandson is uncanny.

Jungkook doesn’t have time to ponder what has happened to Jimin’s parents before the man is already returning from the bathroom, his fluffy jacket in his hands. Hehadn’t realized how well built Jimin was; his arms are toned, the white t-shirt sticking to his skin where it’s become slightly sweaty, revealing smooth muscle.

“So, how was the kimchi?” the pink-haired man interrogates, eyebrows raised suggestively, like he can already guess the answer by the fact that everything’s been eaten.

“The best I’ve ever had,” the student gulps, hoping Jimin hadn’t noticed him staring at his arms just a second ago.

“Told you,” Jimin beams, like it’s some bickering battle he’s won, the man taking the empty dish and the chopsticks and skipping over to wash them off in the sink, before turning on his heels and looking at Jungkook mischievously. “Ready to see what else Busan has to offer?”

＝＝＝ 

Busan has a lot to offer, apparently, and none of it is anything which was mentioned in the quick google search Jungkook had done in the beginning of the day.

Jimin drags the student along from one place to another, all the while telling him wild stories of the ways in which he’s gotten in trouble in each one, Jungkook shaking his head in disbelief as the stories get more and more eccentric. 

They end up sitting on a bench near the water, eating rice cakes on a stick, a staple to Busan’s street food scene according to Jimin. 

“So when is your train leaving?” Jimin asks him as he slurps the remainder of his broth from his plastic cup, trying to keep the question casual though it has clearly been lingering in the air for the last couple of hours.

“It’s another overnight-stop,” Jungkook explains, twirling his own mug in his hands. “We had a hotel room booked for the night, actually.”

Jimin’s been keeping him so busy all day, the brunette has barely had any time to think about Hyunwoo. He supposes he’ll have all the time to do that, lying in his empty hotel room during a night which is bound to be sleepless. 

“Is it paid for like everything else?” Jimin wonders, and Jungkook nods his head, feeling a little shameful for actually being this dejected about having to spend a night in a hotel alone when there are people who don't have a place to sleep in the first place. “You know I’ve never stayed at a hotel before,” the pink-haired man continues, eyes looking out to the water, the crashing waves in the distance creating an ambient soundtrack to their evening. 

Jungkook jumps a little when he understands what Jimin is implying.

“You’d want to come and spend the night with me?” he asks, sounding almost naive, and Jimin rolls his eyes like he’d been asked the most stupid question ever.

“A night in a hotel? With a pretty boy like you?” Jimin says, extenuating each word in a totally over the top way. “Sign me the fuck up!”

Jungkook laughs, heart swelling a little at the way Jimin’s face falls into a fond and somber smile, pulling the student up from the bench and linking their arms as they start walking along the waterbank.

“Wait,” Jungkook stops briefly, forcing Jimin to as well. “This isn’t all a part of your plan to kidnap me and hold me for ransom? I’m not actually rich or anything, especially now,” he jokes, feeling much better compared to a minute ago when he thought he’d be going home alone.

Jimin snickers in reply.

“I do have a plan, and it is kind of evil,” he reveals, sounding sort of nonchalant and a little dangerous which Jungkook has to admit he finds incredibly attractive. “But it more so involves ordering shameless amounts of champagne to the room and putting it on your ex’s name.”

Despite not having been to a hotel before, Jimin is a natural at using the room service, ordering just about everything they have on the menu to their room.

He isn't wasteful, either, but by the time the chocolate cake arrives, he’s clutching his stomach where he lies in a fluffy robe on the bed, complaining of a stomach ache.

The night has slowed down, and Jungkook takes the opportunity to pull something out of his backpack, plopping next to Jimin as he hands him his sketching book. 

“What’s this?” Jimin asks, genuinely curious.

“Some of my drawings,” the art student answers, letting the pink-haired man leaf through the booklet freely. “It’s not my forte, exactly. These are more like casual doodles, really.”

“These are amazing, Jungkook,” Jimin exclaims, genuinely impressed, but the pout on his face falls as soon as gets to the last page with any sort of drawing on it. “You drew me?”

He looks up at Jungkook, and the man swears he sees the beginnings of a tear well in Jimin’s eyes, but the pink-haired one quickly lowers his gaze again, examining the drawing in his hands intently.

“I look quite cute sleeping,” he says, his tone of voice more relaxed. “I can see why you couldn’t resist drawing me.” The statement is clearly meant to be a joke to rile Jungkook up, but instead, the student fishes for a pencil from his backpack, handing it over to Jimin.

“Draw me?”

Jimin’s brows shift from surprise to confusion.

“Why?” he huffs, hesitant to grab the pen. “I can’t draw.”

“Try. It’ll be fun.”

Jungkook shifts back a little, letting Jimin get a full view of him as he sits on his knees on the bed, and despite Jimin’s initial refusal, the man turns the page over in the booklet. 

The pen is doubtful against the paper at first, but quickly, there is the sound of lines being drawn, more bolder with each stroke. Jungkook watches Jimin’s face as he concentrates, his tongue poking out through his lips, the way the stubby fingers grab on to the pencil.

It’s very cute.

A few minutes later, Jimin lowers the drawing, pulling it back to have a good look at the result.

The expression on his face is unreadable.

“Are you finished?” Jungkook asks, brows drawn in confusion. Jimin only nods in reply, still inspecting his work. “Well?”

“I think I’ve created a masterpiece,” the pink-haired man says in reply with such gravity in his voice, Jungkook can’t help but to snort out a laugh.

Instinctively, he moves closer to Jimin to have a look, but the man flinches back immediately, pulling the drawing close to his chest.

“What?” Jungkook exclaims, moving closer still. “Let me see!”

What ensues is a disorderly battle around the hotel room, Jungkook chasing Jimin as he attempts to wield the brunette off from seeing his creation, both trying not to topple any of the plates and empty bottles of champagne that lay scattered on the table surfaces around them.

They end up on Jungkook’s bed, Jimin having tucked the booklet inside his robe and folding his arms tightly around his body as Jungkook sits on top, hands roaming the soft fabric around his midriff in an attempt to locate the notepad.

That is until he doesn’t, realizing that Jimin has stopped squirming underneath him, the man breathing heavily after their fight, his soft pink hair falling back against the bed to reveal his flushed cheeks and pillowy lips.

Mood: Röyksopp - Oh Lover

They’re close. 

Very close.

And yet, it doesn’t feel close enough. 

“Why won’t you let me see the drawing, Jimin?” Jungkook murmurs, his voice steady and assured. There’s something about the man that makes him feel daring, and Jungkook quite likes that.

Jimin’s eyes travel across his face sensuously, as if he hasn’t just spent the last few minutes tracing the lines of it on paper.

As if he’s seeing it for the first time. 

“Because it won’t live up to the real thing.” 

Jungkook isn’t sure who pulls in who. Maybe they both do. Maybe it was inevitable for them to end up like this, tangled in bed.

All he knows is that Jimin’s lips taste like champagne and challenge and adventure, and he quite likes that too. 

＝＝＝

Despite the copious amounts of bubbly last night and getting but a few hours of sleep, surprisingly, Jungkook wakes up without a headache.

Even before he opens his eyes, still hazy with the memories of how Jimin’s hands had explored his body — at times gently, but mostly with command — he can tell he’s alone in the room. Which is perhaps why he keeps them closed for a while longer, still reeling in the fantasy of last night.

Because it was a fantasy, Jungkook realizes. 

He isn’t the type of person to just invite a stranger to his train cabin on a whim, not to mention his bed. He isn’t the kind of person who leaves to go explore the world with nothing but a backpack and wanderlust, no matter how hard Hyunwoo had tried to make him one.

Jungkook needs stability. 

He had tried to find it in his boyfriend, convinced that dating someone older would provide him with it. Stubborn as he is, he hadn’t allowed himself to admit that the issues in their relationship had never been due to the unusual circumstances during which their affair began; Hyunwoo would always have an exploring mind and wandering hands. 

Perhaps Jimin knew he wouldn’t be able to offer that kind of security either, at least at the moment, and unlike Hyunwoo he’d been kind enough to make that clear before they had the chance to get attached. The pink-haired man’s life was clearly anything but stable — Jungkook thinks this with no ill-intent whatsoever. If the last 48 hours have taught him anything, it’s not to judge a book by his cover.

It’s such a cliché to say. The type of people he’d hang out with had his relationship with Hyunwoo worked out would have surely rolled their eyes.

Then again, going on a trip to find yourself is probably the biggest cliché of them all, and it had been Hyunwoo who had suggested he do that in the first place, so maybe hey’re all prone to clichés, in the end.

When Jungkook finally opens his eyes, the first thing he takes notice of is his sketchbook, neatly placed on the pillow on Jimin’s bed. 

He doesn’t hesitate when he reaches over and grabs it, knowing it’s been put there for a reason. The brunette takes his time leafing through it to reach the page he’s looking for, and when he eventually does, he doesn’t know whether he wants to laugh because of course Jimin would have drawn the most ridiculously cartoonish looking stickman drawing of Jungkook, or cry, because despite what he’s just told himself about Jimin not being what he needs right now, he’ll genuinely miss the man.

Jungkook turns the page over, still chuckling a little under his breath because he fears if he stops laughing, he’ll start crying instead.

What’s written on the other side finally breaks him, Jungkook’s gleeful shriek a mix of surprise and melancholy, the uncontrollable giggles which bubble up his chest delightful and dreadful equally.

Jimin’s handwriting is delicate as it draws out the sharp words and hysterically comical paired with the sketch of him, and Jungkook thinks it might just be the most perfect declaration of love.

He brings the booklet to his chest, imagining what the words might sound like spoken by the pink-haired man.

Imagining what it might feel like if this was actually love, and they'd met under different circumstances, in another time.

For now he'd just have to accept it for what it is - an escapade of youth and a lovely lesson to look back on.

＝＝＝

＝＝＝

＝＝＝