BTS Fic: Primacy Effect
Sep. 17th, 2023 07:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kat_lair***
[yes, look, i know i disappeared but i've basically been packing up my entire fucking house and am exhausted. actual update coming next week, i promise]
***
Title: Primacy Effect
Author:kat_lair
Fandom: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Pairing: Jeon Jungkook/Kim Seokjin | Jin
Tags: Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Misunderstandings, First Kiss, Not Actually Unrequited Love
Rating: T
Word count: 4,232
Disclaimer: Make-believe!
Summary:
Author Notes: Started during a fangirl weekend in May in response to prompt 'jailbait' and finished during a fangirl weekend today. Thanks todreamersdare for beta <3
Primacy Effect on AO3
“All I’m saying,” Jungkook stares at Jimin, trying to convey the severity of his problem, “is that it’s the kind of label, the type of first impression that’s difficult to shake.”
Jimin, who is not taking Jungkook’s dilemma with the kind of seriousness it deserves, rolls his eyes. “It was five years ago,” he says and passes books to Jungkook to shelve. “And you were perfectly legal even then.”
“I know that,” Jungkook whines, making sure the book spines are the right way around and perfectly aligned. “I just don’t think Seokjin-hyung really does. I mean, he knows, like… intellectually, but…”
“But you’d like him to know… Emotionally?” Jimin asks.
“Yes!” Jungkook nods and takes another stack of books from Jimin. “Exactly. And that’s…”
“And… physically too, I bet.” Jimin waggles his eyebrows at him in a way that manages to be both cute and incredibly filthy at the same time, which is fully on brand for him.
“Jimin-ah!” Jungkook hisses, looking around to make sure they are on their own, even though it’s past seven in the evening and the store closed for customers ages ago, the doors locked while staff do inventory. Well, staff and Jungkook, who is there nowadays mostly to have an opportunity to whine at his hyungs who have a tendency to put him to work whenever he does that.
“Are you saying you don’t want that?” Jimin asks, tilting his head challengingly.
Jungkook deflates. “…No,” he mutters sullenly. He does want that, for Seokjin to see him as a… a potential partner, not just a younger friend, or some kind of pseudo kid brother to protect. But like he’d said, it’s difficult to change the fundamental parameters of a relationship once established. And for him and Seokjin, they’d been established from the get-go.
It had been Jungkook’s first day at his first job, in the first week of his university too. He had felt both overwhelmed and stubbornly determined to make it on his own, to show his parents, to show everyone that he could and would take care of himself. The campus bookshop had seemed like the ideal setting for a part-time job; Jungkook liked to read, he liked people even though he felt a bit awkward around new faces at first, and the place was an easy distance from all his lessons and his accommodation. He couldn’t believe his luck for scoring the position despite how nervous he’d been at the interview.
Jungkook had spent the morning of his first shift behind the till, training on the register with Taehyung who had made him laugh a lot and not once told him off for being too slow or not remembering everything immediately. The customers had been either kind, or at least politely patient with him, and the place was busy enough that there was no chance to get too anxious. It had all gone well until midday when Taehyung had asked him to go and unpack the boxes of new textbooks that had just been delivered and arrange them onto the empty displays waiting toward the back of the store.
Jungkook had been initially pleased for the change of pace and for the chance to get a break from the constant smiling and trying to remember which buttons to press and in what order. He’d been emptying the boxes as ordered, crouched in the narrow space between the final row of shelves and the staff breakroom entrance half hidden behind them when a conversation had caught his attention.
“Did you see the new cashier?” a male voice had asked, quickly answered by another.
“Hard to miss.”
Jungkook had peeked from between the shelves, but he’d been low enough that all he could see were two pairs of legs, wearing generic jeans and sneakers. Maybe he would have been able to recognise the men if he’d seen their faces but that would’ve require standing up at the very least and he’s been wedged pretty tightly, surrounded by half-unpacked boxes and piles of shiny ‘Principles of Management’ books.
At first, he’d been worried that the customers were going to complain about his lack of skills but what they’d said turned out to be worse than that.
“Fuck, he was hot,” the first speaker had continued. “Total jailbait though, has to be. Bet they’d hired him off the books, no way he’s old enough to be working legally.”
The second man had snickered, a nasty, derisive sound that had made Jungkook want to curl into himself. “Bet he’s doing some work under that register as well as at it, if you know what I mean.”
Face burning with humiliation, Jungkook had heard the door open behind him, someone stepping through. He’d tilted his head up, hands tight around his knees, painfully aware that he was hiding like a baby rabbit, cowering from predators. He’d hated it, because he’d stood up to schoolyard bullies before, several times, but right then he hadn’t been able make his limbs move. He’d hated it even more when he’d realised that the whole mortifying ordeal was being witnessed by what was, no word of exaggeration, the most beautiful human being on earth. The man was clearly a bookshop employee as well, the name tag attached to his shirt spelling ‘Seokjin’. Like Jungkook, he’d been dressed in the unflattering uniform polo and slacks but unlike Junkook he’d somehow looked like he’d stepped off a runway, his hair tousled, his face… Stunning. And stunned too, clearly not having expected to trip over anyone.
Jungkook had physically felt his eyes widen and for a second the two of them had just stared at each other.
“What…?” Seokjin hadn’t gotten any further than that before the conversation on the other side of the shelves had resumed.
“That lip ring of his,” one of the men had groaned obscenely. “Bet that gets him a fat little bonus when he’s blowing the manager.”
“Right,” the other one had said. “Must be nice to have a little jailbait slut like that to ease the stresses of the workplace.”
Seokjin’s gaze had snapped to the men barely visible beyond the shelves, his expression shocked and then… rapidly hardening into anger, which had only made him look even more gorgeous. Then his eyes had flickered back to Jungkook, still huddling on the floor and wondering whether it would be possible to fit himself into one of the empty cardboard boxes and ship himself somewhere far away. Italy was nice this time of the year, right?
Two things had happened simultaneously. Seokjin had visibly clocked the glimmer of metal in the corner of Jungkook’s mouth and put two and two together, his face flushing in outrage, perhaps in vicarious embarrassment. At the same time, Jungkook had realised that the word under Seokjin’s name, engraved into his employee tag, said ‘Manager’.
He hadn’t thought it was possible to feel more embarrassed than he already was, but it had turned out that a whole new level of abject humiliation was still waiting. Jungkook had made a noise, a pathetic whimper of misery, at the back of his throat, trying and failing to think of a way out of the situation.
In the end, he hadn’t needed to. Seokjin had done that for him. Squaring his not inconsiderable shoulders, he’d strode out and proceeded to ream the two creeps by using words like ‘workplace harassment’ and ‘indefinite chain-wide ban’ and also ‘get the fuck out before I make sure you’ll never do anything with you mouths except suck juice through a straw’. Then he’d come back, coaxed Jungkook up and into the staffroom, where Seokjin had made him hot chocolate ‘for the shock, not yours, mine, cannot believe that level of asshattery manifested itself in my store, don’t you dare apologise, drink up and I will find you the forms to file a complaint’.
Jungkook never did fill those forms despite Seokjin’s urging but the creeps never came back either and Seokjin made good on his promise because their photos, pulled from the shop CCTV system, were on the company wide email by the next day.
Their friendship developed almost instantaneously. Seokjin liked to joke that it was the result of traumatic bonding, but Jungkook knew it was because Seokjin was one of the kindest, funniest, most genuine people he’d ever met, unapologetically himself in every aspect, from his love of videogames and food to embracing his looks in a way that was never about vanity, only honesty. He’d not let Jungkook feel embarrassed about the circumstances of their meeting for even one second, steamrolling right over any hints of apology, until Jungkook had just stopped offering them and instead allowed himself to be swept away in Seokjin’s slipstream. It's not like it had been difficult. Before Jungkook knew it, they were sharing jokes, meals, book recommendations, games, and friendship groups. They went on holidays. They had parties. They watched some of their friends get together and placed bets on wedding invites. Seokjin got promoted to regional manager and had to spend some of his time in other stores besides theirs, all of which, he told Jungkook in confidence whilst drunk one evening, were obviously inferior in comparison. Jungkook graduated and got a fulltime job, his time at the bookshop reduced to occasional weekend volunteering as an excuse to meet up with Jimin and Tae, and Seokjin if he was lucky and Seokjin’s schedule aligned just right, a few hours earlier than the regular Saturday night drinks with everyone.
Somewhere along the way, underneath the solid friendship, and the initial hero worship, understandable given the context of their first meeting, Jungkook’s feelings solidified into a crush. And the crush… Well, Jungkook thinks morosely as he moves the ladder to the next section of the shelves, Jimin trailing after him with a clipboard and cart of books, calling something that’s lasted for years a ‘crush’ is probably not strictly speaking accurate.
Unfortunately, Seokjin’s initial impression of Jungkook as his little dongsaeng never much seemed to change. He still ruffles Jungkook’s hair at least once every time they meet, sometimes going for a full cheek-pinch no matter how much Jungkook tries to avoid them. He still coos at him and calls him ‘baby’, entertaining no discussion over who pays for dinner or drinks even though Jungkook is pretty sure he earns more than Seokjin now. Graphic design comes with commissions, bookshop middle-management doesn’t.
With a sigh, Jungkook climbs up and accepts yet more books from Jimin, absentmindedly noting that they seem to have progressed from classic literature to poetry.
“Okay,” Jimin says, “let me get this straight. You’re saying that because your first meeting involved some creeps grossly infantilising you for their own perverted fantasies, Seokjin-hyung will now forever see you as a… What? A vulnerable kid to protect?”
It sounds ridiculous summarised like that but… “Yes,” Jungkook says.
“And that he only sees you like that? Not as an adult man that you actually are and, may I remind you, have been for the entire duration of your friendship.”
“Yes.” Jungkook rams three copies of Kim Hyesoon’s Collected Poems into the gap on the shelf with the kind of force they definitely don’t deserve.
“And,” Jimin continues, because apparently this is not a ‘let Jungkook off the hook’ day. Jimin does not even acknowledge such a day exists, much less celebrate it. “You are upset about this because you in fact have some very adult feelings about Seokjin-hyung, and would like him to reciprocate in kind?”
“Yes,” Jungkook all but hisses through his teeth, hating that he can hear the sulk in his own voice. “No,” he adds then, shoulders slumping. “Kind of.”
“Oh my god.” Jimin passes over more books, slapping them into Jungkook’s hands pointedly. “Explain.”
Jungkook slips the books into their place, consciously gentling his movements. “Yes, I want him to see me as… As an equal,” he says. “I mean, I know… I’m not. I’ll always be younger and Jin-hyung… Well, he’s Jin-hyung, you know? He’s… Amazing.” He shrugs.
“Jungkook-ah,” Jimin’s voice softens. “You’re amazing. I guarantee you, Seokjin-hyung thinks so too.”
Jungkook ducks his head, feeling his cheeks grow warm. “I… I know that. But it’s not the same.”
The expression on Jimin’s face says he disagrees. Jungkook hurries to continue before they get side-tracked. “So yes, I’d like him to see me as an option. Theoretically.”
Jimin is now staring at him with mixture of confusion and suspicion. “Theoretically?”
Jungkook nods earnestly. “Yes. But practically no.”
Jimin blinks. “What? You want him to want you theoretically but not… do anything about it? I got to be honest Kook-ah, that sounds kind of… shitty, actually.”
“What? No!” Jungkook almost falls off the ladder in his haste to correct Jimin. “I want to,” he says. “I just know that practically hyung wouldn’t. I would never expect him to…”
Jimin holds up a hand. It has neither books, nor his clipboard in it, so Jungkook interprets the gesture as a sign to stop talking.
“Jungkook-ah,” Jimin intones solemnly. “You are one of my dearest friends and an all-around wonderful and smart human being whom I love very much, but I have to tell you that you are also a God Damn Idiot.”
Jungkook bristles. He’d come to Jimin for advice because he was one of the least judgmental people he knew and now this? “Hey, I don’t think that’s—”
“I’m going to have to agree with Jimin.” Seokjin steps out from behind one of the shelves. He sounds both sheepish and outraged and the look on his face is the exact shade of stunned it had been all those years ago when he’d found Jungkook huddling between the boxes. “You’re being an idiot.”
Both Jungkook and Jimin shriek in surprise at Seokjin’s entrance. The difference is that Jimin’s shriek quickly morphs into one of pure glee, complete with a delighted clap of his tiny devil hands, while Jungkook’s shriek is nothing but panic and mortification and then two seconds of terror as his balance fails and he comes tumbling down. Thankfully, he’d only been three rungs up and the ladder itself is too sturdy to fall on top of him, so the only physical consequence is a slightly bruised ass.
Emotional consequences however… Well, it’s not looking great. Jungkook lets himself lie still for a second or five, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. Maybe this is all just a terrible nightmare and when he opens his eyes, he’s going to be facing the familiar ceiling of his own bedroom.
“Oh my god!” Seokjin’s voice effectively shatters the illusion.
Jungkook cautiously cracks an eyelid and regrets it almost immediately as Seokjin’s stupidly handsome face swims into focus above him.
“Are you okay?” Seokjin asks, eyes wide with concern.
No, Jungkook is decidedly not okay. He is whatever the opposite of okay is, his entire soul shrivelling from humiliation and dread because how much did Seokjin hear? Too much. Enough.
“I’m fine, hyung,” he says brightly, plastering on a grin that probably verges on manic if Seokjin’s frown is anything to go by. “What are you doing here?” Jungkook asks, pretending he doesn’t see Seokjin’s outstretched hand and rolling to his knees, conveniently facing the other way, trying to buy himself a few precious seconds to recover and recoup. “I thought you were taking a late train back from Icheon and meeting us at the bar?” Deflect, distract, try not to die?
“The meeting finished early,” Seokjin answers distractedly. When Jungkook feels like his face is schooled to, well not normal by any means but maybe at least to ‘not about to cry and run out’, he risks getting to his feet, turning around and sees his hyung frowning with none of the usual griping about how worrying leads to wrinkles. “Knew you’d be here, helping Jimin with the inventory.”
Oh yeah. Jimin. Jungkook and Seokjin execute a synchronised head turn in his direction.
Jimin is standing to the side, clipboard covering the bottom half of his face but his eyes giving away the absolute shit-eating grin he’s definitely sporting behind it.
The three of them stare at each other silently for several long seconds. Finally, Jimin clears his throat and lowers his clipboard, his expression carefully neutral in a way that must be straining. Jungkook narrows his eyes at him, he hopes every muscle on Jimin’s face cramps.
“You know what,” Jimin says, “I think we’re good. Inventory all done.” The inventory is not all done, not even close, but Jungkook is not going to argue it.
Seokjin’s mouth opens but no sound comes out. It’s clear he can see the decidedly unfinished nature of the task, what with the trolley still half-full of books and gaps in the shelves, but is also choosing not to point it out. This seems like a bad sign to Jungkook who knows just how serious Seokjin’s work ethic is despite his best efforts to come across like a layabout.
Still, he tries. “Time for drinks then!” Jungkook grins so wide that his cheeks hurt. “Whoop, whoop!”
Both Jimin and Seokjin look at him like he’s lost his mind, which is fair.
“I think maybe…” Jimin starts but Seokjin rolls right over him.
“You go,” he says to Jimin. “Tell the others that we’ll be by later. Or not. We…” He clears his throat, gaze flickering to Jungkook, quick and… Nervous? “We got some things to talk about.”
It’s Jungkook turn to gawp silently. The instinctive protest, fuelled by the almost overwhelming flight reaction, dies a quiet death in his throat when he catches Seokjin’s eyes, still uncertain but pleading all the same. In the end, Jungkook only nods resignedly. Might as well get this over with then.
Jimin, meanwhile, has been gathering his things at lightning speed, already backing up toward the employee entrance. “Yes, absolutely, hyung,” he’s saying. “You two have a good… Talk. Night. Both. Bye now!” A quick wave and he ducks out of sight, the sound of the backdoor closing loud in the following silence.
Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. But maybe an apology is a start. “Hyung,” he says, clasping his hands together over his stomach, more out of effort to stop them from shaking than any attempt at formal posture. “I’m sorry.” Would a bow be too much? Probably, but he does it anyway. And then again, for good measure. “I didn’t…”
“Jungkook-ah.” There’s something in Seokjin’s voice that stops the words in their tracks. He sounds… Kind of sad? Kind of… happy, too. “Let’s make some hot chocolate.”
Silently, they troop into the staff breakroom; a little kitchenette with a battered table and three chairs, a row of lockers and a sofa Seokjin claims has been there longer than any living employee. Seokjin beelines it for the fridge and Jungkook takes a seat at the table, glancing at his phone by habit but choosing to ignore it as soon as he sees their group chat already blowing up with dozens of messages. Apparently, Jimin had not waited even the ten-minute walk to the bar to update everyone on Jungkook’s humiliation. Fantastic.
Jungkook shoves the phone back into his pocket. There’s a ding of the microwave and a steaming mug is pushed under Jungkook’s nose. Automatically, he takes the proffered spoon and stirs the hot chocolate, murmuring his thanks. Seokjin takes a seat kitty-corner to Jungkook, close enough that their elbows almost touch, their knees and feet definitely in danger of knocking together under the table. Jungkook tries to keep still, to make himself small. Maybe if he apologi—
“When I first saw you,” Seokjin starts, without any preamble, “I thought you were gorgeous. That hasn’t changed.”
Jungkook’s head jerks up and to the side as he stares at his hyung. What? He thought what?
“Well,” Seokjin continues, sounding calm as if they’re discussing the weather, “the concept of ‘gorgeous’ has deepened to encompass who you are, rather than just what you look like, so I guess that’s change.” He shrugs, smile a little self-deprecating.
“Hyung.” Jungkook feels dizzy. He feels… “I…”
“Let hyung talk, Jungkook-ah,” Seokjin interrupts gently. He’s turned enough to look him fully in the eye now, expression determined. “Seems like this is long overdue.”
Mutely, Jungkook nods.
“When I first saw you,” Seokjin starts again, “I saw… This gorgeous man, just… Sitting on the floor, like some kind of special surprise delivery the universe had sent me.” He laughs a little. “Turned out to be kind of right. You turned out to be the best…” His voice breaks a little and he drops eye contact in lieu of taking another sip of his drink.
“Anyway. I wanted to, I would’ve…” He sighs in frustration. “But then…”
“Those guys,” Jungkook finishes for him. “I was mortified.”
“Yeah,” Seokjin agrees, mouth flat with remembered anger. “I could see that. And what they implied… I was your manager, Jungkook. I was, am, older, and I was in a position of power over you, and we’d both just listened some creeps imply I was willing to abuse it because of how you looked, and…” He sighs in frustration. “Do you see, Jungkook-ah? Do you understand?”
He does. He always has, on some level. And Seokjin is right, of course. There is no way Jungkook would have reacted well to anything except exactly what he got; easy friendship, corny jokes, pointed teasing when he needed it, relentless caretaking even when he thought he didn’t. And there is no way Seokjin would’ve offered it either, that’s not who he was. Is. But…
“But you wanted to?”
“What?” Seokjin recoils. “No! Never! I would’ve never taken advantage like that, why would—?”
“No, no, hyung…” Jungkook reaches out, grabs hold of Seokjin’s flailing arms, pulls him back from where he’d scooted away. “I know you wouldn’t have, I know.” He squeezes his arm. “I didn’t mean right then. But… Later? You said…” He swallows, and then forges ahead. “You said you thought I was gorgeous. You said you wanted to… Hyung.” Jungkook looks at him, at the blush that is pinking the tops Seokjin’s cheeks, the tips of his ears, at the nervous way his tongue comes out to swipe over his bottom lip.
“I haven’t worked here for almost two years now,” Jungkook says. “You’re not my boss anymore. If you… Why didn’t…?” His courage falters just shy of actually voicing the question.
Seokjin understands anyway.
“Probably for the same reason you didn’t,” he says. “By that point the roles seemed… established. I was your eccentric hyung who was happy to provide advice and food, we were friends, and it was enough. More than. I didn’t want to…”
“Risk it,” Jungkook finishes for him. He gets it. And he kind of loves Seokjin for it, despite everything.
“Yeah,” Seokjin agrees. “That.” He looks down to where Jungkook’s hand still rests on his arm. “But then I heard you just now and I wanted to…” He takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders to their full, impressive width as if preparing for a fight. “I needed to tell you this.” Seokjin shifts his arm in Jungkook’s grip until their hands are aligned, palm to palm, fingers slotting together, right there on the scratched breakroom table. “I see you, Jungkook,” he says and there’s a look in his eyes that takes Jungkook’s breath away, something fierce and unbearably soft at the same time. “I see you.”
“Hyung,” Jungkook breathes. He looks at their laced hands, then back at Seokjin’s face, beautiful and familiar, determined and flushed the palest pink. “Hyung,” he repeats, firmer this time. “Would you like to go out with me? On a date,” he adds, desperate to make it clear. No misunderstandings.
The smile that spreads over Seokjin’s face rivals the sun. Jungkook feels blinded, dazed, and so, so lucky. “Jungkook,” Seokjin says. “I would love to.” Then he brings their joined hands up and drops a kiss across Jungkook’s knuckles like some kind of storybook knight.
Jungkook, to his utter mortification, outright giggles. “Oh my god,” he says. “That was so sappy.”
Seokjin mock bristles. “I’ll have you know I’m about to be extremely sappy about this now that I can. Over the top sappy even.” He grins, tilting his jaw haughtily, grinning all the while. “Prepare to be romanced within the inch of your—”
Jungkook looks up from under his lashes where he’s bent over Seokjin’s hand, giddy with the success of having derailed Seokjin mid-sentence with a kiss on his own.
“…Well,” Seokjin says after a beat of silence, clearing his throat. “I see you leave me no option.”
“No option than what?” Jungkook asks even though he can already read the answer in the way Seokjin is tugging him up, hands untangling to gently cup around Jungkook’s face.
“Than to escalate,” Seokjin whispers just before he kisses Jungkook on the corner of his mouth, then the other, their lips brushing one, two, three times before Jungkook breaks, pushing closer with a whine.
They don’t make it to the bar that night, much to the amusement of Jimin and the rest of their friends. They do, however, make it to Jungkook’s flat and into Jungkook’s bed. And the next morning they make it to their first date.
Jimin crashes it, but only long enough to call them idiots. Lovingly.
***
[yes, look, i know i disappeared but i've basically been packing up my entire fucking house and am exhausted. actual update coming next week, i promise]
***
Title: Primacy Effect
Author:
kat_lair Fandom: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Pairing: Jeon Jungkook/Kim Seokjin | Jin
Tags: Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Misunderstandings, First Kiss, Not Actually Unrequited Love
Rating: T
Word count: 4,232
Disclaimer: Make-believe!
Summary:
“All I’m saying,” Jungkook stares at Jimin, trying to convey the severity of his problem, “is that it’s the kind of label, the type of first impression that’s difficult to shake.”
Jimin, who is not taking Jungkook’s dilemma with the kind of seriousness it deserves, rolls his eyes. “It was five years ago,” he says and passes books to Jungkook to shelve. “And you were perfectly legal even then.”
Author Notes: Started during a fangirl weekend in May in response to prompt 'jailbait' and finished during a fangirl weekend today. Thanks to
dreamersdare for beta <3Primacy Effect on AO3
“All I’m saying,” Jungkook stares at Jimin, trying to convey the severity of his problem, “is that it’s the kind of label, the type of first impression that’s difficult to shake.”
Jimin, who is not taking Jungkook’s dilemma with the kind of seriousness it deserves, rolls his eyes. “It was five years ago,” he says and passes books to Jungkook to shelve. “And you were perfectly legal even then.”
“I know that,” Jungkook whines, making sure the book spines are the right way around and perfectly aligned. “I just don’t think Seokjin-hyung really does. I mean, he knows, like… intellectually, but…”
“But you’d like him to know… Emotionally?” Jimin asks.
“Yes!” Jungkook nods and takes another stack of books from Jimin. “Exactly. And that’s…”
“And… physically too, I bet.” Jimin waggles his eyebrows at him in a way that manages to be both cute and incredibly filthy at the same time, which is fully on brand for him.
“Jimin-ah!” Jungkook hisses, looking around to make sure they are on their own, even though it’s past seven in the evening and the store closed for customers ages ago, the doors locked while staff do inventory. Well, staff and Jungkook, who is there nowadays mostly to have an opportunity to whine at his hyungs who have a tendency to put him to work whenever he does that.
“Are you saying you don’t want that?” Jimin asks, tilting his head challengingly.
Jungkook deflates. “…No,” he mutters sullenly. He does want that, for Seokjin to see him as a… a potential partner, not just a younger friend, or some kind of pseudo kid brother to protect. But like he’d said, it’s difficult to change the fundamental parameters of a relationship once established. And for him and Seokjin, they’d been established from the get-go.
It had been Jungkook’s first day at his first job, in the first week of his university too. He had felt both overwhelmed and stubbornly determined to make it on his own, to show his parents, to show everyone that he could and would take care of himself. The campus bookshop had seemed like the ideal setting for a part-time job; Jungkook liked to read, he liked people even though he felt a bit awkward around new faces at first, and the place was an easy distance from all his lessons and his accommodation. He couldn’t believe his luck for scoring the position despite how nervous he’d been at the interview.
Jungkook had spent the morning of his first shift behind the till, training on the register with Taehyung who had made him laugh a lot and not once told him off for being too slow or not remembering everything immediately. The customers had been either kind, or at least politely patient with him, and the place was busy enough that there was no chance to get too anxious. It had all gone well until midday when Taehyung had asked him to go and unpack the boxes of new textbooks that had just been delivered and arrange them onto the empty displays waiting toward the back of the store.
Jungkook had been initially pleased for the change of pace and for the chance to get a break from the constant smiling and trying to remember which buttons to press and in what order. He’d been emptying the boxes as ordered, crouched in the narrow space between the final row of shelves and the staff breakroom entrance half hidden behind them when a conversation had caught his attention.
“Did you see the new cashier?” a male voice had asked, quickly answered by another.
“Hard to miss.”
Jungkook had peeked from between the shelves, but he’d been low enough that all he could see were two pairs of legs, wearing generic jeans and sneakers. Maybe he would have been able to recognise the men if he’d seen their faces but that would’ve require standing up at the very least and he’s been wedged pretty tightly, surrounded by half-unpacked boxes and piles of shiny ‘Principles of Management’ books.
At first, he’d been worried that the customers were going to complain about his lack of skills but what they’d said turned out to be worse than that.
“Fuck, he was hot,” the first speaker had continued. “Total jailbait though, has to be. Bet they’d hired him off the books, no way he’s old enough to be working legally.”
The second man had snickered, a nasty, derisive sound that had made Jungkook want to curl into himself. “Bet he’s doing some work under that register as well as at it, if you know what I mean.”
Face burning with humiliation, Jungkook had heard the door open behind him, someone stepping through. He’d tilted his head up, hands tight around his knees, painfully aware that he was hiding like a baby rabbit, cowering from predators. He’d hated it, because he’d stood up to schoolyard bullies before, several times, but right then he hadn’t been able make his limbs move. He’d hated it even more when he’d realised that the whole mortifying ordeal was being witnessed by what was, no word of exaggeration, the most beautiful human being on earth. The man was clearly a bookshop employee as well, the name tag attached to his shirt spelling ‘Seokjin’. Like Jungkook, he’d been dressed in the unflattering uniform polo and slacks but unlike Junkook he’d somehow looked like he’d stepped off a runway, his hair tousled, his face… Stunning. And stunned too, clearly not having expected to trip over anyone.
Jungkook had physically felt his eyes widen and for a second the two of them had just stared at each other.
“What…?” Seokjin hadn’t gotten any further than that before the conversation on the other side of the shelves had resumed.
“That lip ring of his,” one of the men had groaned obscenely. “Bet that gets him a fat little bonus when he’s blowing the manager.”
“Right,” the other one had said. “Must be nice to have a little jailbait slut like that to ease the stresses of the workplace.”
Seokjin’s gaze had snapped to the men barely visible beyond the shelves, his expression shocked and then… rapidly hardening into anger, which had only made him look even more gorgeous. Then his eyes had flickered back to Jungkook, still huddling on the floor and wondering whether it would be possible to fit himself into one of the empty cardboard boxes and ship himself somewhere far away. Italy was nice this time of the year, right?
Two things had happened simultaneously. Seokjin had visibly clocked the glimmer of metal in the corner of Jungkook’s mouth and put two and two together, his face flushing in outrage, perhaps in vicarious embarrassment. At the same time, Jungkook had realised that the word under Seokjin’s name, engraved into his employee tag, said ‘Manager’.
He hadn’t thought it was possible to feel more embarrassed than he already was, but it had turned out that a whole new level of abject humiliation was still waiting. Jungkook had made a noise, a pathetic whimper of misery, at the back of his throat, trying and failing to think of a way out of the situation.
In the end, he hadn’t needed to. Seokjin had done that for him. Squaring his not inconsiderable shoulders, he’d strode out and proceeded to ream the two creeps by using words like ‘workplace harassment’ and ‘indefinite chain-wide ban’ and also ‘get the fuck out before I make sure you’ll never do anything with you mouths except suck juice through a straw’. Then he’d come back, coaxed Jungkook up and into the staffroom, where Seokjin had made him hot chocolate ‘for the shock, not yours, mine, cannot believe that level of asshattery manifested itself in my store, don’t you dare apologise, drink up and I will find you the forms to file a complaint’.
Jungkook never did fill those forms despite Seokjin’s urging but the creeps never came back either and Seokjin made good on his promise because their photos, pulled from the shop CCTV system, were on the company wide email by the next day.
Their friendship developed almost instantaneously. Seokjin liked to joke that it was the result of traumatic bonding, but Jungkook knew it was because Seokjin was one of the kindest, funniest, most genuine people he’d ever met, unapologetically himself in every aspect, from his love of videogames and food to embracing his looks in a way that was never about vanity, only honesty. He’d not let Jungkook feel embarrassed about the circumstances of their meeting for even one second, steamrolling right over any hints of apology, until Jungkook had just stopped offering them and instead allowed himself to be swept away in Seokjin’s slipstream. It's not like it had been difficult. Before Jungkook knew it, they were sharing jokes, meals, book recommendations, games, and friendship groups. They went on holidays. They had parties. They watched some of their friends get together and placed bets on wedding invites. Seokjin got promoted to regional manager and had to spend some of his time in other stores besides theirs, all of which, he told Jungkook in confidence whilst drunk one evening, were obviously inferior in comparison. Jungkook graduated and got a fulltime job, his time at the bookshop reduced to occasional weekend volunteering as an excuse to meet up with Jimin and Tae, and Seokjin if he was lucky and Seokjin’s schedule aligned just right, a few hours earlier than the regular Saturday night drinks with everyone.
Somewhere along the way, underneath the solid friendship, and the initial hero worship, understandable given the context of their first meeting, Jungkook’s feelings solidified into a crush. And the crush… Well, Jungkook thinks morosely as he moves the ladder to the next section of the shelves, Jimin trailing after him with a clipboard and cart of books, calling something that’s lasted for years a ‘crush’ is probably not strictly speaking accurate.
Unfortunately, Seokjin’s initial impression of Jungkook as his little dongsaeng never much seemed to change. He still ruffles Jungkook’s hair at least once every time they meet, sometimes going for a full cheek-pinch no matter how much Jungkook tries to avoid them. He still coos at him and calls him ‘baby’, entertaining no discussion over who pays for dinner or drinks even though Jungkook is pretty sure he earns more than Seokjin now. Graphic design comes with commissions, bookshop middle-management doesn’t.
With a sigh, Jungkook climbs up and accepts yet more books from Jimin, absentmindedly noting that they seem to have progressed from classic literature to poetry.
“Okay,” Jimin says, “let me get this straight. You’re saying that because your first meeting involved some creeps grossly infantilising you for their own perverted fantasies, Seokjin-hyung will now forever see you as a… What? A vulnerable kid to protect?”
It sounds ridiculous summarised like that but… “Yes,” Jungkook says.
“And that he only sees you like that? Not as an adult man that you actually are and, may I remind you, have been for the entire duration of your friendship.”
“Yes.” Jungkook rams three copies of Kim Hyesoon’s Collected Poems into the gap on the shelf with the kind of force they definitely don’t deserve.
“And,” Jimin continues, because apparently this is not a ‘let Jungkook off the hook’ day. Jimin does not even acknowledge such a day exists, much less celebrate it. “You are upset about this because you in fact have some very adult feelings about Seokjin-hyung, and would like him to reciprocate in kind?”
“Yes,” Jungkook all but hisses through his teeth, hating that he can hear the sulk in his own voice. “No,” he adds then, shoulders slumping. “Kind of.”
“Oh my god.” Jimin passes over more books, slapping them into Jungkook’s hands pointedly. “Explain.”
Jungkook slips the books into their place, consciously gentling his movements. “Yes, I want him to see me as… As an equal,” he says. “I mean, I know… I’m not. I’ll always be younger and Jin-hyung… Well, he’s Jin-hyung, you know? He’s… Amazing.” He shrugs.
“Jungkook-ah,” Jimin’s voice softens. “You’re amazing. I guarantee you, Seokjin-hyung thinks so too.”
Jungkook ducks his head, feeling his cheeks grow warm. “I… I know that. But it’s not the same.”
The expression on Jimin’s face says he disagrees. Jungkook hurries to continue before they get side-tracked. “So yes, I’d like him to see me as an option. Theoretically.”
Jimin is now staring at him with mixture of confusion and suspicion. “Theoretically?”
Jungkook nods earnestly. “Yes. But practically no.”
Jimin blinks. “What? You want him to want you theoretically but not… do anything about it? I got to be honest Kook-ah, that sounds kind of… shitty, actually.”
“What? No!” Jungkook almost falls off the ladder in his haste to correct Jimin. “I want to,” he says. “I just know that practically hyung wouldn’t. I would never expect him to…”
Jimin holds up a hand. It has neither books, nor his clipboard in it, so Jungkook interprets the gesture as a sign to stop talking.
“Jungkook-ah,” Jimin intones solemnly. “You are one of my dearest friends and an all-around wonderful and smart human being whom I love very much, but I have to tell you that you are also a God Damn Idiot.”
Jungkook bristles. He’d come to Jimin for advice because he was one of the least judgmental people he knew and now this? “Hey, I don’t think that’s—”
“I’m going to have to agree with Jimin.” Seokjin steps out from behind one of the shelves. He sounds both sheepish and outraged and the look on his face is the exact shade of stunned it had been all those years ago when he’d found Jungkook huddling between the boxes. “You’re being an idiot.”
Both Jungkook and Jimin shriek in surprise at Seokjin’s entrance. The difference is that Jimin’s shriek quickly morphs into one of pure glee, complete with a delighted clap of his tiny devil hands, while Jungkook’s shriek is nothing but panic and mortification and then two seconds of terror as his balance fails and he comes tumbling down. Thankfully, he’d only been three rungs up and the ladder itself is too sturdy to fall on top of him, so the only physical consequence is a slightly bruised ass.
Emotional consequences however… Well, it’s not looking great. Jungkook lets himself lie still for a second or five, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. Maybe this is all just a terrible nightmare and when he opens his eyes, he’s going to be facing the familiar ceiling of his own bedroom.
“Oh my god!” Seokjin’s voice effectively shatters the illusion.
Jungkook cautiously cracks an eyelid and regrets it almost immediately as Seokjin’s stupidly handsome face swims into focus above him.
“Are you okay?” Seokjin asks, eyes wide with concern.
No, Jungkook is decidedly not okay. He is whatever the opposite of okay is, his entire soul shrivelling from humiliation and dread because how much did Seokjin hear? Too much. Enough.
“I’m fine, hyung,” he says brightly, plastering on a grin that probably verges on manic if Seokjin’s frown is anything to go by. “What are you doing here?” Jungkook asks, pretending he doesn’t see Seokjin’s outstretched hand and rolling to his knees, conveniently facing the other way, trying to buy himself a few precious seconds to recover and recoup. “I thought you were taking a late train back from Icheon and meeting us at the bar?” Deflect, distract, try not to die?
“The meeting finished early,” Seokjin answers distractedly. When Jungkook feels like his face is schooled to, well not normal by any means but maybe at least to ‘not about to cry and run out’, he risks getting to his feet, turning around and sees his hyung frowning with none of the usual griping about how worrying leads to wrinkles. “Knew you’d be here, helping Jimin with the inventory.”
Oh yeah. Jimin. Jungkook and Seokjin execute a synchronised head turn in his direction.
Jimin is standing to the side, clipboard covering the bottom half of his face but his eyes giving away the absolute shit-eating grin he’s definitely sporting behind it.
The three of them stare at each other silently for several long seconds. Finally, Jimin clears his throat and lowers his clipboard, his expression carefully neutral in a way that must be straining. Jungkook narrows his eyes at him, he hopes every muscle on Jimin’s face cramps.
“You know what,” Jimin says, “I think we’re good. Inventory all done.” The inventory is not all done, not even close, but Jungkook is not going to argue it.
Seokjin’s mouth opens but no sound comes out. It’s clear he can see the decidedly unfinished nature of the task, what with the trolley still half-full of books and gaps in the shelves, but is also choosing not to point it out. This seems like a bad sign to Jungkook who knows just how serious Seokjin’s work ethic is despite his best efforts to come across like a layabout.
Still, he tries. “Time for drinks then!” Jungkook grins so wide that his cheeks hurt. “Whoop, whoop!”
Both Jimin and Seokjin look at him like he’s lost his mind, which is fair.
“I think maybe…” Jimin starts but Seokjin rolls right over him.
“You go,” he says to Jimin. “Tell the others that we’ll be by later. Or not. We…” He clears his throat, gaze flickering to Jungkook, quick and… Nervous? “We got some things to talk about.”
It’s Jungkook turn to gawp silently. The instinctive protest, fuelled by the almost overwhelming flight reaction, dies a quiet death in his throat when he catches Seokjin’s eyes, still uncertain but pleading all the same. In the end, Jungkook only nods resignedly. Might as well get this over with then.
Jimin, meanwhile, has been gathering his things at lightning speed, already backing up toward the employee entrance. “Yes, absolutely, hyung,” he’s saying. “You two have a good… Talk. Night. Both. Bye now!” A quick wave and he ducks out of sight, the sound of the backdoor closing loud in the following silence.
Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. But maybe an apology is a start. “Hyung,” he says, clasping his hands together over his stomach, more out of effort to stop them from shaking than any attempt at formal posture. “I’m sorry.” Would a bow be too much? Probably, but he does it anyway. And then again, for good measure. “I didn’t…”
“Jungkook-ah.” There’s something in Seokjin’s voice that stops the words in their tracks. He sounds… Kind of sad? Kind of… happy, too. “Let’s make some hot chocolate.”
Silently, they troop into the staff breakroom; a little kitchenette with a battered table and three chairs, a row of lockers and a sofa Seokjin claims has been there longer than any living employee. Seokjin beelines it for the fridge and Jungkook takes a seat at the table, glancing at his phone by habit but choosing to ignore it as soon as he sees their group chat already blowing up with dozens of messages. Apparently, Jimin had not waited even the ten-minute walk to the bar to update everyone on Jungkook’s humiliation. Fantastic.
Jungkook shoves the phone back into his pocket. There’s a ding of the microwave and a steaming mug is pushed under Jungkook’s nose. Automatically, he takes the proffered spoon and stirs the hot chocolate, murmuring his thanks. Seokjin takes a seat kitty-corner to Jungkook, close enough that their elbows almost touch, their knees and feet definitely in danger of knocking together under the table. Jungkook tries to keep still, to make himself small. Maybe if he apologi—
“When I first saw you,” Seokjin starts, without any preamble, “I thought you were gorgeous. That hasn’t changed.”
Jungkook’s head jerks up and to the side as he stares at his hyung. What? He thought what?
“Well,” Seokjin continues, sounding calm as if they’re discussing the weather, “the concept of ‘gorgeous’ has deepened to encompass who you are, rather than just what you look like, so I guess that’s change.” He shrugs, smile a little self-deprecating.
“Hyung.” Jungkook feels dizzy. He feels… “I…”
“Let hyung talk, Jungkook-ah,” Seokjin interrupts gently. He’s turned enough to look him fully in the eye now, expression determined. “Seems like this is long overdue.”
Mutely, Jungkook nods.
“When I first saw you,” Seokjin starts again, “I saw… This gorgeous man, just… Sitting on the floor, like some kind of special surprise delivery the universe had sent me.” He laughs a little. “Turned out to be kind of right. You turned out to be the best…” His voice breaks a little and he drops eye contact in lieu of taking another sip of his drink.
“Anyway. I wanted to, I would’ve…” He sighs in frustration. “But then…”
“Those guys,” Jungkook finishes for him. “I was mortified.”
“Yeah,” Seokjin agrees, mouth flat with remembered anger. “I could see that. And what they implied… I was your manager, Jungkook. I was, am, older, and I was in a position of power over you, and we’d both just listened some creeps imply I was willing to abuse it because of how you looked, and…” He sighs in frustration. “Do you see, Jungkook-ah? Do you understand?”
He does. He always has, on some level. And Seokjin is right, of course. There is no way Jungkook would have reacted well to anything except exactly what he got; easy friendship, corny jokes, pointed teasing when he needed it, relentless caretaking even when he thought he didn’t. And there is no way Seokjin would’ve offered it either, that’s not who he was. Is. But…
“But you wanted to?”
“What?” Seokjin recoils. “No! Never! I would’ve never taken advantage like that, why would—?”
“No, no, hyung…” Jungkook reaches out, grabs hold of Seokjin’s flailing arms, pulls him back from where he’d scooted away. “I know you wouldn’t have, I know.” He squeezes his arm. “I didn’t mean right then. But… Later? You said…” He swallows, and then forges ahead. “You said you thought I was gorgeous. You said you wanted to… Hyung.” Jungkook looks at him, at the blush that is pinking the tops Seokjin’s cheeks, the tips of his ears, at the nervous way his tongue comes out to swipe over his bottom lip.
“I haven’t worked here for almost two years now,” Jungkook says. “You’re not my boss anymore. If you… Why didn’t…?” His courage falters just shy of actually voicing the question.
Seokjin understands anyway.
“Probably for the same reason you didn’t,” he says. “By that point the roles seemed… established. I was your eccentric hyung who was happy to provide advice and food, we were friends, and it was enough. More than. I didn’t want to…”
“Risk it,” Jungkook finishes for him. He gets it. And he kind of loves Seokjin for it, despite everything.
“Yeah,” Seokjin agrees. “That.” He looks down to where Jungkook’s hand still rests on his arm. “But then I heard you just now and I wanted to…” He takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders to their full, impressive width as if preparing for a fight. “I needed to tell you this.” Seokjin shifts his arm in Jungkook’s grip until their hands are aligned, palm to palm, fingers slotting together, right there on the scratched breakroom table. “I see you, Jungkook,” he says and there’s a look in his eyes that takes Jungkook’s breath away, something fierce and unbearably soft at the same time. “I see you.”
“Hyung,” Jungkook breathes. He looks at their laced hands, then back at Seokjin’s face, beautiful and familiar, determined and flushed the palest pink. “Hyung,” he repeats, firmer this time. “Would you like to go out with me? On a date,” he adds, desperate to make it clear. No misunderstandings.
The smile that spreads over Seokjin’s face rivals the sun. Jungkook feels blinded, dazed, and so, so lucky. “Jungkook,” Seokjin says. “I would love to.” Then he brings their joined hands up and drops a kiss across Jungkook’s knuckles like some kind of storybook knight.
Jungkook, to his utter mortification, outright giggles. “Oh my god,” he says. “That was so sappy.”
Seokjin mock bristles. “I’ll have you know I’m about to be extremely sappy about this now that I can. Over the top sappy even.” He grins, tilting his jaw haughtily, grinning all the while. “Prepare to be romanced within the inch of your—”
Jungkook looks up from under his lashes where he’s bent over Seokjin’s hand, giddy with the success of having derailed Seokjin mid-sentence with a kiss on his own.
“…Well,” Seokjin says after a beat of silence, clearing his throat. “I see you leave me no option.”
“No option than what?” Jungkook asks even though he can already read the answer in the way Seokjin is tugging him up, hands untangling to gently cup around Jungkook’s face.
“Than to escalate,” Seokjin whispers just before he kisses Jungkook on the corner of his mouth, then the other, their lips brushing one, two, three times before Jungkook breaks, pushing closer with a whine.
They don’t make it to the bar that night, much to the amusement of Jimin and the rest of their friends. They do, however, make it to Jungkook’s flat and into Jungkook’s bed. And the next morning they make it to their first date.
Jimin crashes it, but only long enough to call them idiots. Lovingly.
***
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