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shediot · 8 months

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Cyclicism

CHAPTER ONE: Jungkook’s Return

SUMMARY —> Jungkook makes a wildly unexpected reentrance into your life, and, despite the less than ideal past you two share, this time you’re bound and determined to keep him in it — and to keep history from repeating itself.

PAIRING —> Jungkook/Female Reader

TAGS —> 90s/00s, Estranged Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Flashbacks, Emotionally Constipated OC, Nicknamed OC, Jock OC, Jock Jungkook, OC has some physical attributes

WARNINGS —> Alcohol

WORD COUNT —> 7.3k

AO3

8 years ago , Summer 1994.

Life is painfully boring.

This certainly isn’t the first time Jeon Jungkook has come to this conclusion in his eighteen years of life, but it is the first time he’s come to it while he stands in the corner of some random house with a cup of jungle juice in hand, at a party that reeks of alcohol and body odor. The too-loud music hurts his ears, and the bright, rhythmically flashing lights hurt his eyes. Still, he remains standing in the corner, enduring it, trying to obscure himself from view and occupy his mind with inanity until it's an acceptable time to leave.

Jungkook really does not want to be here.

Parties are supposed to be fun, according to his friends and every college movie ever, but Jungkook doesn’t understand what makes them so great. It’s hot, and he’s getting a little sweaty, and even if he wanted to talk to someone, he’d have to shout, and this alcohol tastes like shit, and he’s definitely maybe going to have a headache here soon.

Jungkook had been dragged — mentally kicking and screaming — to this random house on some random street in this new city by courtesy of his roommate, Chan, and Min Yoongi, a college sophomore, member of the fraternity Jungkook plans to rush, Beta Tau Sigma. Yoongi, of all people, had held Jungkook at metaphorical gunpoint and threatened that either Jungkook endure these ridiculous house parties, or resign himself to spending college fraternity-less.

And, like, come on. Jeon Jungkook can’t not be in a frat.

The parties may not appeal to him, but every other aspect of being in a fraternity does. Especially because none of his close high school friends are attending this university with him, so it’s the best way to meet people.

So, he’s here. Here at this dumb party, a mere week before his first year of college is set to start, wasting his time. He politely wards off the many people that come up to him to very blatantly hit on him, and counts down the minutes until it’s an acceptable time to leave, so he can go home, shower, crash hard and recharge his social battery.

But it’s this supposedly mundane moment that will alter Jungkook’s life. It’s here, while Jungkook’s bored out of his skull and dreaming up a dozen different ways to slyly get out of being at this party without risking losing his bid — it’s at this unspectacular, incredibly dull moment when you make an entrance.

Shoved aside by a large partygoer, you stumble into Jungkook. The jolt causes his cup of jungle juice to tip over, splashing onto your shirt. On impulse, without much thought, he reaches out a hand to grab onto your bicep and steady you so you don’t keep being pushed over by the other large, bumbling men that trail behind the first.

Jostled backward into the wall, it takes him a second too long to really process what just happened, like he’s registering life with a lag. Shit, the alcohol’s dulling his senses, isn’t it?

You straighten yourself, looking first at the retreating backs of the men who had pushed you into Jungkook, but by the time your eyes meet his, they seem to betray no upset as you flash him an unguarded, easy smile. “Thanks for that.”

Jungkook hitches in a breath. It’s a beautiful smile, really; bright and gleaming, a thing that could brighten even the darkest corner of the room.

Just as quickly as he thinks that strange, unbidden thought, he dismisses it.

You’re not the first drunk girl to stumble into him tonight, and you likely won’t be the last. It seems to be protocol for college parties. Another point not in favor of parties.

Well, whatever.

“Are you okay?” he asks you, ever-polite and courteous. “They didn’t get you too hard did they?”

“I’m fine,” you say, like it’s no skin off your back. Then, you stand to your full height.

As Jungkook takes in the whole of you all at once, he almost feels overwhelmed. You’re dressed in various shades of blue and no other color, but that’s not the odd part.

Every girl here is dressed to the nines, with their hair prettily done and wearing a dress or a skirt or maybe a crop top that shows off their chest. Sure, Jungkook finds that stuff appealing.

But you.

You’re dressed like you had just left the gym, wearing a t-shirt and running shorts paired with sneakers. Your hair is pulled back in a high pony. It doesn’t look like you have much makeup on, if any. Your blue clothes show him your fit, toned body, but really just your arms and legs. While Jungkook has never thought himself to have much of a preference when it comes to women’s bodies, he knows at first impression that you’ve got a nice one. You’re tall, too, not much shorter than he is, and he isn’t exactly short for a guy.

You cut an imposing figure in a way that commands attention. The pretty smile you give him mitigates it some, but the way you hold your shoulders back and head high makes you… Ugh, Jungkook doesn’t know. All he knows is that he’s just standing here, staring at you like a brainless fish and he can’t think of what to say.

Belatedly, he realizes he’s still holding onto you and he drops his hand from your skin like it’s a burning coal that’ll threaten to char his palm off if he holds on much longer.

You don’t seem to mind, however. In fact, your smile only widens. A dazzling smile that threatens to put him in a trance, for real, how much jungle juice has he had to drink because—

Oh no.

There are lots of gorgeous women here at this party. Women that have attempted flirting with him several times before giving up and leaving him alone once they saw how boring, how disinterested he was. There are lots of gorgeous women here. There are lots of pretty women everywhere, but still. There’s something about you specifically.

And he stands there, stock-still and staring at you like the drunken idiot he must be, for far past what is proper. You only stare back, much less idiotically and far more curiously, eyes roaming over him in turn, but…

The all-too-short moment is broken when another woman comes up beside you, slinging her arm through the crook of your elbow, so her pale skin contrasts against your sun-kissed skin.

“C’mon,” the intruding woman urges, shaking your arm impatiently. “Let’s go get another drink. I just met this guy, Yoongi. He seems cool. I want you to meet him.”

“Cool?” You turn to face the other woman with a quirked brow. Jungkook’s gathering that she must be your friend. (Well, duh, Sherlock.) “And by that, you mean he’s got weed,” you tease.

The intruding woman smiles devilishly. “Bingo. So let’s go before he moves somewhere else. We need to get our foot in the door early. I’m sure we’re not the only freshman girls hankering for a blunt.”

“Girl, singular,” you correct with a roll of your eyes. “Not interested.”

“Doesn’t matter. Come on.”

“Joy,” you say, stumbling a little more, and Jungkook has to temper the urge to reach out and hold you steady again. “You’re yanking me.”

“I wouldn’t have to yank you if you weren’t being so slow.” And then the woman—Joy, evidently—pulls you away by the arm without a care.

To Min Yoongi, of all people.

Dazed and stunned, Jungkook watches you walk away. Words he’s not sure how to form hang on the tip of his tongue.

What he does know is that he wants to talk to you. Actually speak to you. Have a conversation. Get to know you.

But you walk away.

You walk away, and you don’t look back.

——

It takes far too long to find you.

In his search for you, he repeatedly gets stopped by multiple people: potential fraternity brothers, girls interested in talking to him, strangers that want something from him. But he’s mentally half-there while his potential brothers talk his ear off, his attention scanning the crowd for you. When women come up to him he only gives them an awkward smile and politely entertains platitudes before finding an excuse to walk away.

Jungkook realizes this is shallow. He knows he’s being a little dumb, and probably tipsy, and that his wildly selective hormones are likely just going haywire like a broken compass at the sight of the first truly intriguing person here. But if he has to endure being here, maybe finding you could make it a bit more bearable. Maybe. Point is, he really doesn’t want you to disappear before he can get your name. Doesn’t want to lose you for good before he can have a chance to actually speak to you.

Not like he knows what to do if he does somehow find you, but, well. He’ll cross that awkward bridge if it comes to it.

So, yeah.

Luckily, just when Jungkook is about ready to give up hope and leave — he finds you.

Jungkook breathes a labored sigh of relief.

He’s not sure why he scrutinized everyone inside the too-large party house so intensely; you stick out among the rest of the group you’re in like a pretty, blue sore thumb. Soft, dark bangs frame the curvature of your face and juxtapose against that bright smile. That smile of yours as you speak remains glorious.

Peals of your loud laughter ring across the backyard.

Jungkook is quickly discovering that you are loud, and shameless, and unabashed in being so. It only makes him feel further pulled toward your orbit. Before he can chicken out, he allows his legs to override his anxious brain and lead him toward you and your friend, Joy, standing in a small circle with his senior, Min Yoongi and Chan, his roommate.

Lucky, lucky Jungkook. He probably only has the courage to go up to you at all because you’re talking to his friends.

He’s not willing to let this chance to speak to you for real slip through his fingers.

Luckily, Chan sees Jungkook coming before you do, and he manages to make Jungkook’s entrance slightly less awkward by grinning and waving him enthusiastically over to their little group. “Jungkook! Get over here, bro!”

Hands sliding into the front pockets of his joggers, Jungkook grins bashfully as all four pairs of eyes from your group fall on him.

He makes his way over to the group. Chan throws an easy, familiar arm over his friend’s broad shoulders and drunkenly grins at the two girls. “Ladies,” he begins. “This is my roommate, Jeon Jungkook. He’s a little shy, so please treat him well. I don’t think he’s ever spoken to a girl before.”

Yoongi, blunt hanging from the tips of his two fingers, releases a snort, and you?

You laugh.

Jungkook nudges his roommate. “Dude,” he hisses.

Your friend seems amused, but not as expressive as you. “I’m Joy,” she says, extending a manicured hand for Jungkook to shake, all uniform and firmness. “I’m a freshman.”

Reluctantly, shyly, Jungkook shakes her hand.

This woman… Well, Jungkook would be blind if he didn’t admit that she was drop-dead gorgeous. The type of woman he thinks he should find in magazines or on the runway. With her long, wavy dark hair that reaches to the small of her back, her slim stature, pretty maroon lips and sparkling eyes, she’s definitely a woman to write home about.

And still, there’s just something about you. Something alluring. Something fresh. Something magnetic. A different kind of interesting, a woman in a league of your own.

“You’re all fresh meat,” says Yoongi with a roll of his eyes, taking a drag of the blunt. “Babies.”

“Yeah? Mad you’re an old man?” Joy quips back, sharp as a tack. “Pass me that.”

He raises a querulous brow. “After you just called me an old man?”

While your eyes are on Yoongi and Joy's exchange, Jungkook's gaze remains fixed on you.“What’s your name?” Jungkook asks you while the other two continue bickering, his own voice soft. As if afraid to scare you off.

You turn to face him, your smile softening to mirror his. “That’s a secret.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, again, clearly annoyed by you. “She refuses to tell us her name. Don’t bother asking again, neither girl will budge.”

“Trust me, we’ve tried,” says Chan.

You and Joy share a look before falling into a drunken dual giggle fit.

“Girls,” Yoongi grumbles half-heartedly, ashing his blunt.

“Oh…” Jungkook trails off, unsure how to react to that. A name’s a name. Why can’t he know yours?

Slowly, your laughter dies, and you fix Jungkook with a stare of growing curiosity. He shifts beneath your gaze, the weight of your full attention heavy.

“Wait,” you say, tilting your head, eyes roaming over his form as if giving a full examination of him. Recognition visibly dawns in your eyes. “Hey! You’re the guy who spilled your drink on me a while ago.”

Jungkook opens his mouth in disbelief, and then closes it. “Uh. You ran into me.”

You shake your head, as if you don’t believe him for whatever insane reason, but before he can fully register what’s happening, you’ve reached out your hand to grab him by the wrist. “Come with me.”

Then you practically yank him away. And, while Jungkook may be a little confused, he willingly trails behind you. Your hand is warm where it's wrapped around his wrist.

Oddly enough, though Jungkook is not normally a big fan of people touching him, with you he finds he has no qualms.

You lead him back inside the house party, immediately veering toward the drink table. “You, Jeon Jungkook,” you say, a bit forcefully, as you pull to a stop in front of the drink stand, “Are going to buy me another drink to replace the one you spilled.”

He can’t help it—he laughs. He’s amused. Thank God—he definitely needed a little amusement. This party was so boring before you ran into him.

You were the one who had spilled his drink, but he doesn’t care. Because right now, you’re speaking to him. So he’ll buy you as many drinks as you want if it keeps you talking in his vicinity.

He pulls out his leather wallet from his back pocket and pays without a fight for the drink you pick out.

You grin gratefully, nudging him gently, like you’re old friends. “I know you owed me, but thanks.”

“No problem, really,” he says. “I’ll buy you as many as you want.”

You tilt your head, your drunken grin so bright and free. You bring your red solo cup to your lips, and ask, “Feeling a little guilty, Jeon?”

He only laughs in response. Yeah, as if.

Thankfully, you don’t seem put off by his lack of a verbal response. Instead, you use your free hand to grab his wrist once more, leading him fuck knows where. At this point, he finds himself not caring where. Where you go, he’ll follow.

Jungkook does pull you both to a stop, however, causing you to look back at him quizzically. With an uncharacteristic bout of courage (liquid courage, most likely), he pulls his wrist from your unyielding grip, before quickly grabbing your hand and weaving his fingers through yours. “It’s more comfortable this way,” he explains.

Unfazed, you simply turn and continue leading Jungkook to wherever you were taking him to begin with.

You trek up the house’s stairs like you live here (and he supposes there’s a possibility that you do…), and as you both pass down the long hallway, you pass a couple bedrooms, the undeniable sounds of college students getting it on drifting out from under the cracks of the doors. The loud, shameless noises invade his headspace and make his head begin to spin.

Flustered, Jungkook tries his best to ignore those sounds.

Are you trying to get Jungkook to fuck you?

Wow. Uh. He rubs at the back of his reddening neck as he trails behind you. Sure, he thinks you’re super pretty and he finds himself enjoying your new and fresh presence, but Jungkook does not move that fast.

If that’s your goal here… Fuck. He doesn’t know how he can deny you without running you off.

All Jungkook really wants is to talk to you more. Get your name. See if there’s maybe, possibly, a chance of building something here. He’s a romantic at heart. Slow-going, cautious. He wants the steady brick and mortar base before even thinking about going that far that soon.

You pull to a stop in front of one of the doors. Jungkook sucks in a deep, anxious inhale, ready to tell you he’s not ready for sex, and isn’t interested in casual sex to begin with, but he sure is interested in you, a little, if that’s alright but—

You open the door.

It’s a laundry room. You took him to a laundry room.

It doesn’t seem to be a mistake, or poor luck of the draw, for you beam satisfactorily, as if you weren’t quite sure of what you were going to find when you opened the door but satisfied with the results. Then you lead Jungkook inside and shut and lock the door behind him. Confused, he allows himself to be led in.

He looks around the room searching for any special reason you decided to take him to a laundry room specifically.

Jungkook knows there’s jokes about women and washing machines, but… Why would he be here for that, then? Even in the context of a shitty porno, it doesn’t make sense.

Nervously, his voice barely above a whisper, he asks, as if someone might be listening, “What are we doing here?”

Ignoring him, you release his hand and kneel to the floor (but, again, not in a shitty porno way because you aren’t facing him). You begin to open cabinet doors and search around for… something? Who knows?

The innocence of this not matching up with his thoughts only makes him more confused.

Presumably having found what you were looking for, you bounce back up to your feet, all fluidity and flexibility. Jungkook blinks at the sight of the bottle in your hand: Spray ‘n Wash.

“You,” you say pointedly, “ruined my shirt.”

Jungkook blinks. “Um?”

“You ruined my shirt, and it’s one of my favorites.” You sigh, staring down at the red stain splashed across the torso of your shirt. “My fault for wearing it to a party, I guess.”

Brows furrowed, Jungkook gapes. “I’m sorry, what? You brought me here because you wanted help putting Spray ‘n Wash on your shirt?”

You don’t answer. Instead, you do something even odder: you pull off your shirt, uncaringly, and Jungkook quickly and awkwardly averts his gaze out of respect, clearing his throat to remind you of his presence in the room.

“It’s cool if you look,” you say nonchalantly. “I have a sports bra on. It’s like if you saw me at the gym or the pool.”

Ah, well. Okay, sure.

(He mentally adds ‘exhibitionist’ to the growing list of things he’s discovering about you).

So he does look, only briefly allowing himself to admire your toned stomach, or your, uh, perky boobs, as you spray the mixture onto the jungle juice stain, scrubbing it in persistently with a fingernail. Unlike Joy’s pristinely manicured nails, your hands, while clean and clipped, sport no manicure or polish. And your eyes are narrow, concentrated on getting the stain out. While you concentrate, you prod the inside of your cheek with your tongue.

He swallows, directing his eyes elsewhere. You very obviously make a habit of staying fit and in shape. He really likes that, but he wants to respect you, not ogle you and objectify you.

“I don’t need your help with this,” you say, breaking his thoughts by finally deigning to answer his earlier question. “What I need is something else.”

“And that is…?”

“I want your hoodie.”

“My hoodie?” he parrots in disbelief.

Christ, you’re odd. And seem to hold no compunctions about being so. Boldly, unashamedly you.

“Yeah,” you say plainly. “Give it to me.”

Jungkook only stares at you, hand absentmindedly coming up to tug at the string of his hoodie. “I like this hoodie.” It’s a black hoodie, warm and comfy. One of his favorites.

You sigh, as if you’re the one put out here, and not Jungkook, who’s having his hoodie demanded of him. “Okay then,” you say, clearly undeterred. “Keep your hoodie. But give me your shirt instead.”

Jungkook only feels more confused. “Why do I have to give you either?”

“Because,” you say, leaning against the cabinets to fix him with an unimpressed stare, arms crossed across your bare stomach. “I’m putting my shirt in the washer, and while I don’t mind walking around in just a bra if I have to, I’d rather not.”

Ah, well. He’d rather you not walk around like that either. Not in a weird, possessive way, just... Uh. Yeah.

“Fine. You can take my shirt,” Jungkook says, fiddling with the hemline of his hoodie. Then, he moves to pull off both the hoodie and shirt by the neck. “I run cold, and I really don’t want to lose this hoodie.”

“Don’t worry,” you say, as you take the proffered black cotton tee from his outstretched hand. “The shirt will get back to you.”

He doesn’t think he imagines your eyes lingering on his bare chest before he pulls the hoodie back on.

Then you pull his shirt on, and he has to admit, he really likes the sight of you in it. It fits you well. He swallows over the rising lump in his throat. Your eyes widen, and you tilt your head down to… Sniff at the collar of his shirt.

Jungkook blinks.

“Fuck, you smell good,” you say admiringly. “Really damn good. I didn’t know college boys showered.”

The tips of his ears redden. “Uh… Thank you,” he manages out.

Then you pull the shirt on, and he has to admit, he really likes the sight of you in his shirt. It fits you well. He swallows.

“I’ll wash this and return it to you tomorrow. I’ll give you my pager number and address so you can get it back.”

He tries valiantly to keep calm and appear as nonchalant about it as you do, as if he hasn’t been trying to figure out a way to ask for a way to keep in contact with you since he’d first seen you. Giving a cool nod, he hopes he doesn’t seem too eager with his agreement.

Seemingly satisfied, you turn back around to continue your search through the cabinets of the laundry room, coming across what you must have been looking for: a pen and a stack of slightly bent post-it notes, blue. You crack a smile.

“My favorite color,” you explain to Jungkook needlessly, scribbling down what must presumably be your address and pager number on the slightly frayed post-it note, possibly frayed from humidity or disuse. It doesn’t matter, because when you hand him the written-on note, it’s as if you just gifted him the holy grail in the form of a dyed, square piece of mini paper.

Carefully, very, very carefully, Jungkook folds it and slides the note into the pocket of his joggers, certain both pieces of information will be burned into his retinas by tomorrow morning. “Will you tell me your name now?” he ventures.

Your only reply is a cheeky shake of your head as you plop your shirt in the washing machine.

He sighs. He tries his best to be polite to everyone he meets, no matter how annoyed he is, but you’re particularly infuriating about this particular thing. “Well, then, how am I supposed to refer to you?”

You close the lid to the washer, pressing the wash button, and then turn around to face him with a contemplative face, eyes averted in thought. “I don’t know,” you say. “I didn’t think that far ahead. Joy and I just decided to not give anyone our real names. She chose Joy as a stand in, though, because that’s what her parents call her.” Your eyes seem slightly dim even as you explain, “Their little bundle of joy.” But they immediately brighten when you add: “How ironic, huh? She’s not joyful at all.”

Jungkook frowns at the slight bitterness that had slipped into your tone. Sure, he doesn’t know you, but he has to wonder if the bite is only noticeable because you’re drunk. Whatever the case, it’s there, and it has him standing straighter, and feeling slightly more forgiving.

“Then can I give you a name?” he asks.

Just for tonight. After you and Joy are done playing your little game and are willing to part with things so simple as your names, he’ll be able to know your name. But for tonight, he won’t continue to press the issue.

You seem to think about it before giving a slow nod, sticking your drink’s straw between your lips as your gaze locks with his, waiting to be dubbed.

Jungkook leans against the shelves across from you, his arms crossed. His dark eyes scan over your body: aside from the black shirt he’d loaned you, you’re a walking bottle of blue. “You said blue’s your favorite color,” he states.

“I did.”

“So what about Blue?”

You seem to chew on the moniker, brows raised in contemplation. Then you smile over your straw, your white teeth gleaming due to the moonlight streaming in through the room’s generous windows, your hair in a slight array from pulling on and off shirts.

“Blue,” you echo, as if testing the syllable. Then you nod. “I like it. Suits.”

Jungkook leans back, openly staring at you the way you stare at him now. He doesn’t understand it, but though he’s normally quite mild-mannered and shy, being with you… It feels like manners aren’t necessary, and being shy even less so. Like just being in your vicinity gives him a sort of subtle courage to speak and be freely.

You may be strange, but you’re also very friendly, and he hopes against hope that this isn’t just the alcohol persuading your personality.

You seem like a breath of fresh air.

That said, Jungkook is still relatively new to the world of flirting, but he hopes you understand he is flirting with you when he asks, “So… Can I maybe see you tomorrow?”

“Of course,” you say, too easily. “I just moved here, so I’m always looking for friends. So, if you’re looking for a friend, too…” You hold out your hand, as if to say, here I am.

It doesn’t seem pointed, like you’re blatantly turning down any romantic advances from Jungkook, but he does deflate. Just a bit.

So, you’re looking for friends only. That’s fine. Jungkook would love to be your friend, too. He’s not the kind of person to blow up because he can’t get the person he wants, or anything. And it’s not that he wants you, he hardly knows you, but he wants to get to know you. So if you’re just looking for friendship, then all right. He can deal with that. Really.

“I’ve got somewhere to be tomorrow morning,” he answers, trying to keep any disappointment out of his tone. “So maybe after..?”

“Cool. I also have plans in the morning, so it works.”

A moment’s quiet tarps over the two of you, and Jungkook’s desperate to break it. “Do you know the people who live here?” he asks, nodding his head toward the washer to show why he’d asked.

Grinning, you shake your head.

Jungkook’s jaw drops. “And you’re going to use their washer regardless?”

Your eyes sparkle with mischief. “No one will ever know but you and me.”

“How did you even know where the laundry room was?”

You’re not sheepish at all when you respond, “Joy and I did a little snooping when we got here.”

“You’re insane.” He can’t help it—the words slip out, and you laugh.

“Maybe so.” You slowly slide down, against the washer, until you sit down on the ground. “Well, you’re free to leave whenever you want. I have your shirt and you have the means for getting it back. So... You can go.”

Jungkook finds he very much does not want to go. You’re the best thing to happen to him all night. Hell, maybe since he moved to this city. He doesn’t completely understand why he thinks so—you’re friendly, yet odd, but he likes your confidence. How sure you are of yourself. How you treat him like an old friend despite having just met.

Of course, he doesn’t know you, so he can only hope that none of that is solely due to the influence of alcohol.

He’s very glad you’d stumbled into him and made him spill his drink on your shirt, because he’s been able to get you like this; alone, even if it’s not in the way college students might typically try to get the subject of their attention alone.

“What will you do?” he asks, finally.

“What does it look like? I’ll wait for my shirt to get washed.”

“Alone?”

“Unless you’re going to grace me with your company.” Your smile fades, and you rest your chin atop your knees, you pretty eyes staring up at him. “I’d like it if you stayed, but I understand if you’d have more fun at the actual party.”

Jungkook shakes his head firmly. “No way. I was bored before you.”

He’s not usually so forward, but the way you light up when he says that? Yeah, okay. Maybe he’ll have to be more forward with you in the future. It looks like something you appreciate.

With that, he sits down across from you, and you stretch your legs out next to his, so they bump together, a grateful grin re-finding your expression.

“Thanks for sticking with me,” you say. “I promise to be as entertaining as possible.”

Jungkook laughs.

He’s not sure why you’re thanking him.

Jungkook thinks he’ll stick with you for however long you let him.

Present day, Summer 2002.

With delightfully blistered, calloused and chalked hands, you climb.

The belay device attached to your harness stays firm as you make the climb upward, your friend-slash-belayer cheering you on down below, loud and encouraging. You try your best to not lose focus, concentrated fully on each rock and dip in the wall, the way the sinews of your muscles burn with the delicious stretch, a sheen of sweat coating your tanned skin as you make the arduous climb.

“Slack!” you call down your rock climbing buddy, and she responds by immediately loosening the rope enough so you can move more comfortably. You move your foot to one foothold, and cautiously move your way upward.

You’re almost to the top, and victory begins to seat itself on your tongue. Your body moves intuitively as you climb, somehow simply knowing where to place your feet, your hands, to effectively make you scale the rockwall faster.

Almost there. Just a few more feet, and you’ll be at the top. Your competitive spirit clamors for the release that scaling this rockwall will bring, and—

“Blue?”

And you slip.

“Oh, shit!” Your belayer immediately switches tactics to brace for the weight of your fall, distributing her own weight just in time to prevent you from going freefall. Coming to a sharp stop, you dangle pathetically mid-air as you try to wrap around your mind what you had just heard, to place the source of the voice. The voice that had called your name — your nickname — out. Quickly, you latch back onto the wall to ease your friend’s burden, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest, and not just because you, experienced you, made a dangerous rookie mistake, but because…

Because that’s Jeon Jungkook’s voice.

He’s here.

Grip now firmly on the rockwall, you slowly turn your head to locate the man, eyes wide with fear, shock and anticipation rolled into one confusing amalgam of emotions.

There he is, standing down on the floor below, being buckled into his own harness as he stares just as wide-eyed and alarmed up at you.

There he is, Jeon fucking Jungkook, in all his elusive, unmitigated glory.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You attempt to will the slowing of the rapidity of your heart, trying to deceive your own body into calming itself.

It doesn’t work.

Jungkook gives you an awkward, two-fingered wave from down below, and you intake a deep breath.

“Take!” you yell down to your belayer, and as soon as she’s ready, you begin to push your way down the wall in controlled leaps as she guides you. Once you reach the floor, you detach the belay and slip out of your harness, eyes avoiding Jungkook on purpose as he gets strapped in for a climb of his own.

“What was that?” your friend asks you, concern clear in her tone and her narrowed eyes. “You lost focus. I’ve never seen you lose focus like that. Are you okay?”

Swallowing, you nod, turning to look at your dear friend as she checks you over for any injury. Finding none, she pats your shoulder. “Sorry about that.” You don’t attempt to explain.

“I’ve got to belay for Jisoo,” she says, gesturing to a waiting woman outside the fenced area. “You good?”

You nod again. “I’m just fine,” you say falsely and assuringly, with one of your patent winning smiles. “Go, go. Don’t want to keep her waiting. Otherwise, she might get a wandering eye,” you say with a wink.

She rolls her eyes. “It’s not happening,” she says, as she turns around to walk away.

“Sure it isn’t!” you tease back.

As soon as your friend’s attention is elsewhere, you turn back to face Jungkook, and try your best to keep your unaffected, bright smile on your face as you stride your way up to him.

No matter your and Jungkook’s past, you can’t just walk away from him. Not after all these years. Especially when the past is just that — the past. Lacking meaning in the grand scheme of things.

Just because things between you and Jungkook ended poorly four years ago doesn’t mean that needs to carry over now.

Besides… He’d called out to you. That’s a good sign.

So you walk up to him, and crack a welcoming smile. “It’s nice to see you.”

The words sound odd and dumb from your mouth. Like you’re acting like he’s just an old semi-friend you fell out of contact with.

Well… In a way, that’s exactly what happened. But that feels far too shallow of a way to describe the past.

It doesn’t matter. You don’t hold grudges, never have, and you expect the same from others.

You’re really good at moving forward.

But damn Jungkook’s ability to hide what he thinks right now, because you aren’t sure what’s hiding in the crevices of his face as he surveys you in kind. Disappointment? Anger? Both would be valid emotions, all things considered.

“Nice to see you, too, Blue,” he says back, brows slightly scrunched together as he watches you. Like he can’t believe you’re standing before him, having the audacity to speak to him.

The use of your nickname again makes your skin prick. Not because it’s fallen into disuse since college, but because the opposite had happened.

The silly, simple nickname the man in front of you had dubbed you eight years ago still clings tightly to you. Your friends call you it. Your coworkers and clients, too. Hell, you’d even started giving new people you met the nickname instead of your real one. It’d been purposeful on your end, wanting the name Jungkook had chosen for you, and it’s since stayed tied to you for your entire adult life. But you’d almost forgotten about its origin, what with it being so common now, so stuck to the matter of you, that the reminder of whom it came from strikes you.

“How… What…” You shake your head. You don’t normally struggle with social interaction, but this is definitely a special case. A one-of-a-kind case. “You look… good,” is the stupidly simple statement you settle on.

Jeon Jungkook has always been incredibly attractive. His omnipresent gaggle of fangirls and boys from college could clue one in to that, but…

It’s different now.

He hasn’t grown taller since you last saw him, four years ago, for you still see nearly eye to eye with him, being only a few centimeters shorter. But, while he may not have grown taller, his shoulders have filled out, becoming even broader than you remember them being, and they were already notably broad back then. And, while Jungkook had always been rather fit, he’s impossibly more so now, as evidenced by the toned thighs that peak out through his athletic shorts.

Not to mention those damn arms and hands, now littered with a sleeve of tattoos that had only been in the beginning stages four years ago, drawing one’s eye to the taut muscles of his forearms, down to those strong hands and thick, enticing fingers.

But his face is the most startling contrast of all. Its sharpness is the most distinct feature. Now there’s an eyebrow piercing on his right brow. Gone are the round cheeks of before that had given him a bent of innocence. Now what sticks out most is the knife-like cut to his nose, the precision in his jaw.

Those dark eyes, though. Almost black. The wide, pretty set of them. Those are as equally dangerous and entrancing as ever.

Okay, no. No. There’s no need to continue going down this mental road. You’ll only drive yourself crazy.

That damned smile though. The smile that’s always made your stomach twist in tangled knots. The smile he’s now giving you, sweet and unsure and nervous and undoubtedly cute. “You....” He gestures his hand toward you helplessly. “Look great, too. Really great.”

You’re used to compliments like that. You do look great. You feel great too.

And you realize that the reason for Jungkook pointing that out, beyond just echoing your friendly niceties, is… The woman he’d left behind had decidedly not looked so healthy or good.

“So, what brings you back to town?” you say, trying for conversation that doesn’t revolve around looks. “Missed the trails? The mountains? Personal business?”

Jungkook swallows. You study his throat intently, eyes zeroing in on a trail of sweat that slowly dips into the strong lines of his neck. “Job offer,” he says, almost cautious about it.

Your eyes dart to his in shock. “Job…. offer?” you echo lamely.

He nods, hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck while he slightly dips his head. “Uh… Yeah. At Hanseu.”

“Seoul wasn’t enough to hold you down?“

His eyes survey you, dark and piercing. “This town is my home.” He says it gently — as if he’s afraid you’ll startle like a hunted gazelle at the words.

And they do put you on edge the same way as the hunted always are.

Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. He’s… Coming back?

“So this is… permanent?” you ask.

Jungkook has always seemed too big for this town and… Well, he couldn’t leave here fast enough, way back, it had seemed. Couldn’t wait to leave this town, and you, and all your shared friends.

Jungkook looks steadily unemotive. “Permanent as can be expected,” he says.

Well.

You swallow.

You both well know about the evanescence of life. How you can be so sure of something one moment, and then the next…

He clears his throat, rubbing a hand through his thick, soft hair. “Well… What about you, Blue? You’re a physical therapist now, right?

You find yourself relaxing marginally at the mention of your career, as well as a twinge of pride. Being a physical therapist is what you had worked toward for so long, after all. When Jungkook had left, you’d only just begun your DPT program. After some blood, sweat and tears, and a good chunk of time, you’d completed it. And now here you are — as of two years ago, a licensed physical therapist. Your dream career.

It feels odd, somehow, to think about how you were still working toward said dream back when Jungkook was a major part of your life. Back when Jungkook was around, you were just a silly college student, unsure about the future.

You’re still unsure about the future now, but at least your career is settled.

“That’s right,” you boast, standing up straighter. “And I’m damn good at it.”

“I believe that,” he says, eyes bright and swelling with his patent genuineness. “All that hard work, and now look at you.” He grins, stepping forward just a bit, bridging the gap between you in a physically minuscule but mentally macrocosmic way. “I’m proud of you, Blue.”

There’s something in the way Jeon Jungkook compliments you. It’s never just a compliment. It’s genuine praise to your ears, and you do your best to fight the telltale flush that threatens to overcome your cheeks.

You nod your head by way of gratitude, finding yourself mentally stumbling.

With a glance at the chunky blue watch adorned on your wrist, you spot the time — namely, that you’re running out of it. You’re glad you have an excuse to leave, because you don’t know how much longer you can stand here with Jungkook without making even more of a fool of yourself. But, also, if you didn’t have a good reason to leave…

You’re not sure you’d want to of your own volition.

“I do a bit of personal training on the side, and I have a client coming in a few minutes I need to prep for,” you explain. “We’ll... catch up later, yeah?”

You turn to leave, and suddenly he grabs at your wrist. Not tight, not in the least, his fingers wispily ghosting against your skin, burning hot where they touch you.

Once you stop and turn back around, he releases you.

“Look…” He seems to chew on his words, gaze down at the gym floor, before his doe eyes flick upwards to lock with yours. “Don’t be a stranger. Please.”

You melt.

The past is the past. You can’t let it affect your present, nor your future.

Before you can respond, you hear your name called.

“Blue! What are you doing? My session was supposed to start five minutes ago!”

You feel so wrapped in Jungkook that acknowledging you have to go just makes you feel like you have to yank yourself away. For someone like you — that’s dangerous. Just one of the dozens of ways in which Jungkook is dangerous to you, though.

“That’s my client,” you tell Jungkook needlessly, cutting through the terse silence.

Jungkook doesn’t take his eyes off of you. “Okay.”

You sigh, turning over the next step for the two of you in your head. On an impulsive, and secretly hopeful, whim, you say, “Tomorrow at 6:00 A.M. I’ll be going hiking at Sangsaeng. It’ll be just me this week.” You hesitate, but only slightly. “If you want to join me…” You trail off, extending your arms in a flourish. You drop them to your sides. “Show up if you want to. Don’t if you don’t.”

This is your attempt to not be a stranger.

You and Jungkook aren’t strangers, though. Nor are you friends. You’re somewhere in between. In a confusing cosmos of push and pull, of cold distance and white heat.

With that offer extended, you turn around on the balls of your feet before he can reply and head toward your client, hoping against hope that Jungkook takes you up on your offer.

The ball’s now in Jungkook’s court. You just hope he wants to dust off the ball and play the game.

#jungkook #bts #bts fic #bts fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #jjk #cyclicism #cyc

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shediot · 8 months

Text

CYCLICISM (SERIES)

CHAPTER 2: Jungkook’s Return II

TAGS —> 90s/00s, Estranged Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Flashbacks, Emotionally Constipated OC, Nicknamed OC, Jock OC, Jock Jungkook, OC has some physical attributes

WARNINGS —> Alcohol

WORD COUNT —> 6.5k

AO3

PREV | NEXT

Chin rested in the palm of your hand, you stare at the shelves of liquor behind the bar absentmindedly as the low, soulful sounds of R&B floats through the speakers.

“Um… Earth to Blue.”

You blink your way back to reality to find a small hand waving frantically in front of your face to grab your attention. You straighten yourself so you meet Park Jimin’s gaze, his light eyes fixed on you with concern.

He purses his lip-glossed lips, clearly disapproving. “It’s weird for you to be so out of it.”

Clearing your throat, you straighten and take a swig of your water to wet your parched throat. “Right, I’m listening. You were saying?”

Jimin gives a roll of his eyes, making the burnt-orange, glittery eyeshadow sparkle in the low lighting of the bar.

Joy splits a dark grin. “He wasn’t saying anything important. Just complaining about Dahyun for the nth time.”

“Not about her,” Jimin swiftly corrects. “She’s just been gone sooo long. I miss her.” He juts his glossed lips out into one of his signature cute pouts. The kind that could wrest anything he wanted from anyone. People tend to fall all over themselves to help him, when he looks at them like that. Jimin is just that good, that manipulative (and you say that in the most admiring of ways). Luckily for you, you’re immune to it.

So is Joy. “She’s been gone a week. You’re such an attention whore.”

Jimin levels Joy with a glare, and she breaks out into dark laughter. You smile at their familiar exchange, and while the two continue their typical light-hearted bickering, you turn to your side to face Namjoon, who is sitting next to you and regarding you with intense scrutiny.

It’s weird. “What?” you prod.

“You’re being oddly quiet.”

You shrug. “It’s been a weird day.”

Really weird. You’re sure adrenaline is still coursing through your veins after your dangerous slip today. A different kind of adrenaline races beside it whenever you think about the man who had inadvertently caused you to slip.

“Want to talk about it?” Namjoon asks, because of course he does.

You lift a brow.

He laughs. “Yeah, forget that. I’m here if you want to talk, though, you know.” He nudges you with his elbow: his small way of showing affection.

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, babe,” you say, reaching over to pinch his cheek.

He bats your hand away with soft laughter.

After being your friend for eight years, Namjoon knows your tendencies more than well, and you know his. Odd as it is, you avoid verbal expressions of feelings. Namjoon avoids physical expressions of it. So the two of you try to meet in the middle. He sets aside his innate therapist-like tendencies where it comes to you (knowing it’s only a waste of time for the both of you, because you don’t budge), and you don’t press him for hugs. (Even if he’s a damn good hugger! Namjoon is a catch and a half).

Namjoon’s friendship is comfortable, easy. Stable and sure. Despite your significant and, quite frankly, vast differences and interests, the two of you have always gotten along well.

You, Joy, Jimin and Namjoon were all housemates once. By chance, not choice: thrust into the same roommate housing just one week before you all went into freshman year of university.

It may have been chance and not choice that landed the four of you, strangers from different cities and different walks of life, together, but chance was ruled by lady luck you think, because you now love all three of them with a fervent passion. Now, eight years since the four of you met, and four years after graduation and leaving the house you had shared back then, you still stick together like stubborn glue. These three people comprise three out of four of your best friends, and the people you love most in the world.

They’re your family.

You’re especially grateful for the good luck that had placed Namjoon in the same house as you as freshmen. You’re not sure you’d have ever met him if not, and even if you had, if you two hadn’t been forced to live together for four years, you’re not sure you would have ever become friends. Namjoon’s an intellectual; you’re an idiot. For him, working out is just something you do to be healthy. For you, it’s a lifestyle. Where he’s clumsy, you’re sharp, and vice versa.

Namjoon is very, very important to you — and so are Jimin and Joy, and so, even though you haven’t touched the drink in years, you still meet with them to go out with regularity.

Yes, you avoid drinking now. You haven’t had a sip of the stuff since your college years, and you don’t plan on ever doing so again. Your inhibitions don’t even seem to exist once you get a few drinks in you, which had once been a good thing. A fun thing. The thing that made drinking fun.

After making a few cosmically idiotic mistakes, though?

Keeping your wits about you is now of the utmost importance.

Plus, you still are a health nut. That’s the reason you give everyone, anyway, when you turn down offerings of alcohol and they inquire as to why: your health. It’s not a bad reason. Safe. Less private than the real one.

So, that leaves you here: in a bar, your glass of ice water sweating onto a coaster.

Namjoon isn’t much of a drinker either these days. He typically has a beer or two, at most three. Maybe he’ll knock back a shot or two of whiskey after a particularly rough day at the office.

Tonight, though, he nurses a half-drank lager, taking contemplative sips of it as silence drops over the both of you.

You want to tell everyone about Jungkook’s return, but… Everyone is going to be so weird about it. And you need a little extra normalcy right now, after the day you’ve had.

“How’s work?” you ask Namjoon, trying to drum up any sort of conversation to take your mind off him. “It must not be awful, considering you’re not downing Jim Beam right now.”

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head down at his drink. A slight smile pulls at his lips, causing his signature dimples to make an appearance. “Remember last week?”

“Of course I remember,” you answer. Namjoon had been so stressed out over a case. The legal aides had screwed it up royally, nearly losing the firm he was employed to a high profile client. “You’re not drowning in whiskey and you don’t look like you’re about to combust from anger. So… My guess is things panned out?”

“And thank God they did,” Namjoon says, clearly relieved. “No, not God. Thank Park Jihyo.” Visible fondness lampshades his expression. There’s practically hearts in his eyes, for God’s sake.

You smile. Jihyo’s another junior attorney in his firm, and he always lights up so brightly like this when he speaks about her. The respect he has for her is so omnipresent and notable.

It’s almost a thing of envy.

“Jihyo saved the day,” you guess with a knowing smirk.

“Try my career.” He takes a drink, eyes drifting off to the side as if rethinking his wording. “Okay, I’m exaggerating, but honestly... We were this close to losing the client.” He holds his forefinger and thumb a centimeter apart for good measure. “And all Jihyo had to do was talk to them.”

“Smooth-talking her way out of trouble?” You grin like a Cheshire cat. “I haven’t even had the pleasure of meeting her, and yet I think I love her already.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes. He doesn’t share your same mild rebelliousness — he’s a forward-thinker, but almost always a follower of rules. “I don’t know how she did it, but she must’ve charmed the hell out of them, or pulled a miracle out of nowhere, or…” He shrugs his shoulders helplessly. “They told my senior attorney they’d stay as a client, but only if Jihyo was on their cases with us from now on.”

“The bright side, though, is that you get to work with Jihyo even more.” A sly smile slides its way onto your face as you waggle a brow at Namjoon. “Always a plus.”

He gives you a thoroughly unamused look. “Quit that, Blue. She’s a coworker.”

“And?”

“And, you can’t date a coworker. That’d…” He holds his hands out, somewhat franfically, a blush rising to his cheeks. “It would just wreak havoc on the workplace.”

You bite your straw as you grin at him cheekily. He so has a crush on her. “Fine, don’t date her. Just fuck her.”

Namjoon inhales deeply, leaning forward on his elbows. Pinching the bridge of his nose with his finger, he says, “I am not you. I don’t go around fucking people willy-nilly, without a care for the repercussions.”

Your smile fades. Only slightly. Barely. Instead of letting his harmless quip bother you, though, especially since you know it wasn’t intentional (and it’s also, you know, true), you snipe back, “Maybe she could unlodge that stick from your ass.”

“Har har,” he says, drily. “You think you’re so funny.”

You beam.

“Whatever. We’re talking too much about me,” he says in a poor attempt at deflection. “What about you?”

You shrug. “Nothing new on my end at work.”

“Okay, then outside of work?”

“Yeah, Blue,” chimes in Jimin. “What about outside of work?”

At that change in subject, both Joy and Jimin look at you expectantly. Both with curious, invested looks.

You snort. Namjoon shares a knowing look with you. How very like the two to zone out of your conversation when you and Namjoon converse about work, only to jump back in when even the prospect of personal lives are mentioned.

Especially when it pertains to the romantic. Or sexual. For Namjoon, typically the former, rare as it is. For you, more often than not, the latter. Far less rare.

Well…

Unbidden, your mind conjures up an image of a dark mop of thick, wavy hair - of toned muscles and a cut jaw and pretty, sparkling eyes and tattoos. Jeon Jungkook, standing down below you at the rock climbing, looking up at you with clear nervousness and shock.

This is probably as good a time as any to inform them about his return.

It’s pretty obvious none of them had heard news of his return to town yet. If they had, they would have been all over it, ambushing you for details about his arrival. So you feel satisfied, knowing you have a piece of thrilling information you can dangle before your waiting friends, like raw meat in front of bloodhounds.

Jimin, prescient mind reader that he is and always has been, gives you a look. “What are you hiding?” he asks. “Spill.”

“You’ll never guess who came back to town. Like, permanently.”

“Oh my God, Blue, don’t make us play a game. Just say it,” says Joy exasperatedly, on the edge of her seat, ever the impatient one.

“Ugh, fine,” you say. “It’s Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. Remember him? The guy who—”

“What?” Joy hisses, eyes wide. “You’re not serious.”

Jimin grabs hold of your arm and shakes it in excitement. “Since when? Why were you just sitting on this information?”

Even Namjoon’s eyes are comically wide as he stares at you in silence, slowly digesting the nugget of information you’d just plopped before them.

“You said this is a permanent move back?” he asks, clearly skeptical.

“Yup. He got a job at Hanseu.”

“That’s right down the street from my firm,” Namjoon notes, raising his brow.

“Right up the road from Blue’s clinic,” reminds Jimin, looking at you with vibrating interest. Wow. You didn’t even know that Jungkook would be employed so close to your own job. “Jesus Fuck, this is exciting. How did you even hear? Did he…” He leans forward, eyes growing wide, “…Call you?”

Ha. The idea of Jungkook calling you is laughable, really. The line between the two of you has been disconnected for years, and he doesn’t even have your cell number. He once had your pager number, and the landline to the house on 8th street, where you and Namjoon, Jimin and Joy had lived, but neither of those exist anymore.

Years have passed. Things have changed. Technology, addresses, numbers: more things have changed than just you and Jungkook moving from friends to not friends.

“He showed up at my rock climbing gym,” you inform your nosy best friends. “Shocked the crap out of me, but… We talked. And then I asked if he wanted to hike with me tomorrow morning, so…” You hold your arms out, sure the rest of the story is pretty self-evident. Then you perk up, before your friends can interject, and say, “If any of you want to hike with us, do feel free to join. 6:00 A.M at Sangsaeng.”

“The nice trail that goes up the mountains?” Joy asks.

“Yup. That’s the one.”

“Who else is going?” presses Jimin, but there’s a glint to his eye that tells you he isn’t asking this all innocently.

Joy, Namjoon and Jimin all stare at you with varying but intense levels of interest.

“Um,” you say. “All I know is that this week my usual hiking buddies all had other entanglements. Jungkook didn’t let me know if he was coming or not, so it may just be me in the end.” You shrug, unbothered. Whether you hike alone or with friends, you’re happy. Though you’d rather be with people, when you’re surrounded by nature, you’re never truly alone.

“I’ll go,” says Namjoon nonchalantly. “It’s been a while since we went hiking. I’m sure the fresh air will do me some good, especially with how stressful work was for a while there.”

Joy and Jimin swap one of their pointed glances, before Joy nudges Namjoon with her elbow. Very noticeably. “Blue should definitely go with just Jungkook,” she says, enunciating her words very slowly in the most blatantly obvious way without just coming out and calling Namjoon what she so clearly wants to: an oblivious third wheel.

You roll your eyes, but it clearly takes a second for realization to visibly dawn on Namjoon, his pupils dilating and mouth opening in a subtle ‘o’ before he turns to you, swallowing, and says, all rushed, “Um. Yeah. Uh… Never mind. I actually have plans.”

Namjoon is so bad at lying. You certainly love to tease him for it. “Oh, yeah? What are these ‘plans’, Joonie?”

He narrows his eyes, unamused. “Go-karting.”

You blow out a laugh, sitting back in your seat. “Guys, c’moooon. I know you want to see him. I’m sure he’d love to see you all, too. It’s been years.”

“You know what I want?” says Joy. “For you and Jungkook to reconcile.”

None of your friends know the source of your fallout with Jungkook, nor the gritty details.

You can be a very… private person.

You wave her concern off. “There’s nothing to reconcile,” you lie, smoothly. “I invited him to hike with me, didn’t I?”

Jimin gives you a crinkly-eyed smile. “And that will make an amazing date for just the two of you.”

“It’s not a date,” you reply, exasperated. “It’s hiking. Nothing sexy or romantic about it.”

“Maybe not for us normal people. But for gym bros like you and Jungkook? It’s the equivalent of dinner and a movie.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re ridiculous.” You look at Namjoon helplessly. “Tell Jimin he’s ridiculous.”

Namjoon holds his hands up. “Hey, what do I know? Jimin’s the relationship expert here.”

“Dude.” You sigh. Namjoon may be right — Jimin is a certified casanova, and Namjoon is an awkward, inexperienced cornball. Still. “That’s like calling working on a case with Jihyo a date.”

“Not equivalent,” Namjoon rebuts. “You guys aren’t working together. You’ll be choosing to be together, alone...”

“...With the romantic sunrise shining on you,” adds Jimin with a wink.

“Alone,” Joy reiterates. “So alone, in fact, that the two of you could fuck up on that cliff.”

Jimin bursts into laughter, Namjoon winces at Joy’s crassness, and you grimace, wrinkling your nose in discomfort.

“Sounds incredibly uncomfortable,” you toss back as you rise to your feet. You grab a ten out of your bag and place it on the wooden bar for the bartender. “Much like this conversation, actually. It’s late, I’m heading home. Anyone need a ride?��

You glance pointedly at the two drunkards in your group. You know Namjoon won’t need one, at least.

“Nope,” says Joy, reaching an arm over the table and patting Namjoon’s forearm. “We’ve got this guy. You go home and sleep well for your date.”

“Not a date.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just go so you don’t have nasty undereye bags tomorrow. Jungkook won’t want to fuck you if you do.”

With a roll of your eyes, you lean forward to grace each of their cheeks with a quick kiss, and then you head out.

——

An indelible thread of dread settles just beneath your skin, spreading through the pores of your epidermis and seeping down through your dermis before settling like sediment in the riverbed of your subcutaneous tissue.

Jungkook’s not coming.

Of course he’s not coming. One thing that had surprised you about Jungkook when you’d first met him all those years ago was how polite and well-mannered he was — especially since he was a frat boy in the making at the time. Frat boys have never been notorious for being sweet.

Jungkook was different, though.

Regardless, the same innate kindness and politeness that made Jungkook stick out to you back then, many notches above the rest, is also the kind of kindness that erects a thick and sturdy wall between you. He’s too nice to turn anyone down upfront. So, it makes sense that him not giving you a firm no about hiking with you today is more because of polite obligation. Not because there was any part of him that genuinely wanted to reconnect.

A chasm of space, only made larger with time, had opened up between you long ago, and you never thought you’d be able to cross it to the other side.

But seeing Jungkook willing to talk to you yesterday… It had made you hope.

Hope is a dangerous thing.

It’s fifteen minutes past the time you’d asked Jungkook to arrive. And, as the sun begins to peek over the lush emerald leaves on the trees, you decide to abandon that small sliver of hope you’d held that Jungkook would show up.

But, to be fair to Jungkook, it’s your fault. The way things had ended four years ago, the radio silence in the time since his departure…

You hadn’t been all that great of a friend to Jungkook, toward the end.

Even so. You’d, idiotically, held out hope. As if you haven’t already learned in multiple, shitty ways that hoping for something regarding Jungkook only results in everything going belly up.

You rise to your feet from the rock you’d been seated on for the past twenty minutes, stretching and relishing in the needed pop of your bones. You grab your backpack, hauling it onto your shoulders, and begin to head up the trail, toward the cliff. (The cliff that, coincidentally, was the one Joy had been referring to when she’d so classily claimed you and Jungkook could fuck on it).

“Wait! Blue, hold up!”

Freezing where you stand for just a brief millisecond, you quickly slough off the iciness enough to turn. His familiar tone rattles your thought, and even more rattling is the sight you find:

Jungkook, hopping off a bike, almost getting the laces of his shoes tangled up in its spokes. Stumbling, he shakes the spoke off his shoelace and drops the bike unceremoniously to the ground, right next to your Jeep.

You stand, unmoving and unspeaking, as Jungkook then jogs up the path to you. The closer he comes, the more you can see the sheen of sweat coating his golden skin, dripping down the hollow of his throat and landing on his protruded and pretty collarbone.

While you’re still gawking at the sight he makes, he reaches you.

He bends over, hands on his knees, puffing out breaths and gasping for air. “So sorry I’m late,” he says, before straightening and reaching behind himself to his backpack, grabbing for the water bottle in the side pocket. And then he takes a long, desperate swig. When he finishes he puts the water away and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, giving you an unsure, lopsided grin.

Your unusual silence probably only makes him feel worse. You feel startled back to earth, so overwhelmed with everything that is Jungkook and the fact that he’s come at all that you feel like you have to drag the words out of you. “Oh, it’s no big deal,” you lie. “… Why the bike, though?”

While, yes, you and Jungkook both are pretty notorious jocks, this town is pretty sprawled out and this hiking spot is a good few miles from the rest of human civilization, so willingly biking here just to then go on a long hike on a steep incline is kind of…. insane. Even for athletes.

Maybe Jungkook’s always been a little weird, but not insane.

He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I, uh, kinda have to use a rent-a-bike to get around until I have some time to get a car. I definitely underestimated how long it would take me to get here. I left an hour ago…”

Your heart squeezes in your chest.

You berate your heart. Dumb bitch.

You shake off that weird shit. “An hour? From where?”

“The Rivet,” he says, referring to a hotel downtown.

“You biked. From the Rivet.” Your brows furl. “Okay, first of all, you should have asked me for a ride. Second of all, why are you staying at a hotel? Why don’t you have an apartment? Or what about crashing with Chan at his apartment?”

He shakes his head. “Chan isn’t in town right now, and he didn’t know I was coming.”

Chan didn’t know?

That’s… weird. Really weird.

You may not have spoken to Jungkook in the past four years and may have only seen Chan an occasional few times while out and about, but, as far as you know, they’re still closely knit best friends.

Did distance tear them apart, too?

Now you’re even more confused about Jungkook’s sudden return. He had claimed it was for a job, but you’d assumed it was more likely he sought a job here because of Chan and maybe his other college friends, the few that remain. Or maybe he wanted to be only a couple hours from his parents’ place again, instead of half a day away.

Confusing! Why is he here? Why did he come to this town, specifically? What is here that he can’t get anywhere else?

It’s not like this town is an undesirable place, though.

The suburbs are lined with perfectly manicured houses sitting on perfectly manicured lawns owned by equally perfectly manicured men and women. Downtown is taken up by the businesses, with the college campus spread throughout it, and all the apartments that house both college students and the condos for the wealthy people. Dotted throughout on the edges of the suburbs and beyond are all the winding, tree-littered hills and other natural bits of lands. The cliffs and waterfalls and trails that you’d originally came to this city for.

Still. For some reason, you feel like Jungkook doesn’t belong here. Even if he looks as natural on this trail as he had years ago. You’ve never been able to articulate why you think so.

“Do you have sunscreen?” he asks, jolting you back to the here and now.

“Do I have sunscreen?” you echo in disbelief. Who does he think you are? “Of course I do.” You turn around, so your backpack is facing him. “Third pocket. Open the zipper. Take your pick.”

You hear him unzipping it, feel him searching around for a bottle.

“Jesus, Blue, is it necessary to carry this many? Which one do you want me to use?”

“Never enough sunscreen,” you tell him chirpily. “Especially for occasions like this. Use whichever. Sana and Namjoon always forget it, so it’s nice to have extra on hand. Kinda surprised you of all people forgot, though.”

He sighs, pulling out his preferred choice, and you turn in time to see him slathering himself up with it.

“Remember the job I told you about yesterday?”

“At Hanseu?”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t supposed to transfer here until a month from now,” he explains. “But the company called me up, and told me they needed me to start as soon as possible, so last week I packed up what little I could and hopped on the first flight out. So, yeah. I’m a little out of sorts. I don’t have everything I need. Don’t have a way to really get around yet. And I’m stuck in an overly-priced cramped hotel.”

“Hence, the bike riding,” you say, gesturing to the fallen bike.

He looks back at the bike and grimaces. “Yeah, hence the bike.”

“Damn,” you say in sympathy, attempting (and failing) to not ogle Jungkook as he spreads the sunscreen across his toned arms, neck, face, legs. “Shouldn’t you have flown back this weekend?” you ask, your voice slightly high. “So you can pack and stuff?”

“Yeah, well.” He finishes lotioning up and motions for you to turn around. You do. “I had plans.”

“Plans?”

“Hiking,” he says simply, and you suddenly find yourself relieved that he’d turned you around to put the sunscreen back into your backpack, because otherwise he might have bared witness first to the startled look on your face, and then the slightly dopey smile that followed it.

“We could have rescheduled. I hike every Saturday morning,” you say, deceptively airy as your stomach does a flip.

Damn Jungkook’s ability to do that to you. Whether unwittingly or wittingly.

“Didn’t know how long the offer was good for,” he replies, and if you aren’t mistaken you detect... a note of bitterness in his tone.

Smile wiped from your face, you slowly turn to face him to find him closer than before. Far too close for your addled mind.

His dark eyes search your face, his expression falling at what he finds. “I don’t want…” He sighs, tussles his hair with one of his pretty hands as if it’ll shake the words he wants to say out. “I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he says. “Or make you regret this. I don’t want to make you regret reaching out to me, you know.”

Your stomach sinks unpleasantly. You hate this. This sullenness. Damp in the air, wet and sticky.

You decide you immediately want to wipe it all away.

So you muster up what feels like a pitiful smile, but in all your years as you, you know you are a master of falsification: your smile looks as genuine as can be, bright and friendly. “Really, Jeon. There’s no need to think that. If I didn’t want to hang out, I would have ducked for cover when I saw you. Made up an excuse to leave or something. I wouldn’t have invited you out if I didn’t want to.”

It seems it works, somewhat, for Jungkook puffs out a laugh, a slight light in his eye. “I doubt that, Blue. You could withstand hanging out with Mussolini if you really needed to.”

You blanch, a laugh bubbling up your throat. “Um, good thing I don’t need to do that?”

But Jungkook is never as good as you are as moving past things. You still note a weight of less-than-pleasantness on his shoulders. But his smile is soft.

“Blue,” he says, just as soft.

You swallow. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

You return his smile, but turn to face toward the trail, and as he falls into step beside you, you realize —

You’re glad Jungkook is back. And you’re going to do everything in your power to prevent him from leaving again.

Even if it hurts.

***********

8 years ago, Summer 1994.

It feels odd.

Adulthood.

True adulthood.

Freedom, unimpeded.

It feels weird and unusual and novel, having the freedom to come here. To this town. This town, with all its beauty, with all its sprawling, rolling hills littered with deep green evergreens. All its wide ravines with crisp and deep blue water splitting them, cliffs etched into the side of small mountains that afford one a view of such sights. All the waterfalls galore, all the large lakes for swimming and boating and more —

A place like this is perfect for a woman like you. A woman with a love for natural phenomena and exercise.

And you’re not just here to visit.

For the next four years, this town will be your home. You've chosen the university you will be attending because of the views. And now these views are basically your backyard.

It doesn’t feel like you're running from your past — only that you’re running to this beautiful new beginning.

You’ve only been here a few days, haven’t even started your college freshman year yet, and yet, you’re already falling in love with this place. And as you park your Jeep down at the bottom of Sangsaeng along with the other cars, possibly the other members of the hiking group you’re here to join, you only find yourself instantly more and more sure of your decision to come to this town..

And, gosh, these views are so pretty. The flora is such a startling emerald and the waters a pretty, deep—

“Blue?”

At first, the moniker doesn’t register, as it sounds more like a natural continuation of your admiring thoughts, so you simply keep walking, ready to meet with the rest of your university's hiking group. The other members mill about up ahead, and you’re determined to meet with them.

But then a boy moves into your field of vision.

You blink at him.

He jogs backwards, with a soft, unsure grin. It’s impossible to not immediately take notice of the toned musculature of his body and the way it contrasts with the soft roundness of his facial features. Round in a youthful way that doesn’t match with the rest of him, paired with eyes a thick, warm brown.

You raise a brow, never one to turn down a chance at conversation. Especially with someone who’s cute. Very cute.

“What’s good?”

“Blue,” he says again, as if insistent . “It is you!” His eyes seem to sparkle at this information.

“Why are you calling me that?” you ask with an arched brow. “Have we met?”

Disappointment passes over his features, and he frowns. “Were you really that drunk? You don’t remember?”

Your mouth opens in an ‘o’. Suddenly he does seem very familiar, if you switch out the t-shirt and compression shorts under the pair of loose gym shorts and sneakers for a black hoodie and blacker joggers, if you imagine his hair slicked back instead of damp and hanging in loose curls as they do now.

“You were at that party last night,” you deduce. “You look a little different, but I remember you.”

It was a fun party. Your first college party. You and your roommate, Joy, whom you had met that same day, had made the mutual decision to go, both new to town and eager to meet new people.

You’re glad you went. You’d had a lot of fun and met a good dozen new friends.

He shrugs. “I’m not really one for dressing up. This is more my element anyway.”

“I mean, me either. Jeon Jungkook, right?”

Jeon Jungkook was definitely your favorite ‘new friend’ from the party. He’d put up with you for a long while (more than you expected him to, honestly) and had been a lot of fun.

Jungkook’s grin grows impossibly wide. He has a pretty smile that takes over his whole face, making him appear so… cute. He’s cute! Like a puppy. “I’m surprised you remember my name.” He pauses, does a once-over of you before meeting your eye. “You never did give me yours, though.”

“Oh, you’re right, I didn’t.” You laugh to yourself, remembering the little game you and Joy had decided to play last night.

The mission: don’t give out your real names.

Not for any reason other than it seemed like it would be fun. Joy had proposed the idea because she wanted to ‘mess with people’ and you’d readily accepted because why not? She had actually picked Joy as her stand-in name herself. She’d explained her decision to you; her parents had always called her their little bundle of joy.

Honestly, the name had stuck. You even think about her by the nickname at this point.

And you? Well, you hadn’t chosen any name to give out in place of your real one. You hadn’t been able to figure out one that suited you (it’s not like you had any cute nicknames given by your parents), but what’s in a name, anyway? You only need something to call you by. And most people didn’t really care, to your knowledge. Which is very, very fuzzy knowledge. You may or may not have blacked out later in the night, leaving most of your memories to be very scant flashes.

You do remember Jungkook’s smile, though.

Well. Whatever. You wonder where this ‘Blue’ came from — maybe from Joy sometime later in the night, maybe someone else.

Maybe from this boy before you.

You’re curious about its origins.

“Well?” he asks, slightly impatient. “What is it?”

You pantomime your lips being zipped shut. “A secret. Honestly, I’m more concerned about why you’re calling me Blue.”

He lifts a brow, eyes scanning over you. Tongue prodding his cheek, he asks, “Isn’t it obvious?”

You look down at yourself, sport various shades of blue, but you paired it with black and gray, this time! And yesterday night, you hadn’t really unpacked anything yet, so you had just grabbed the clothes that were on top of your carry-on. It may not have been attire suited for a party, but no one seemed to care. Except Joy, who had declared your athleisure wear an affront to mankind.

You laugh. “Oh, yeah. I swear I don’t do it on purpose. I just don’t really like shopping, so I always grab the first thing off the rack that catches my eye. And it’s usually blue.”

“Hey, I don’t mind. You just wouldn’t tell me your name, so I had to come up with something. ‘Hey you, pretty girl in blue’ is just a mouthful.”

“So, Blue.” You turn it over on your tongue, skirting past his compliment deftly. “Aptly named, I think. I like it. Think I’ll keep it.”

He laughs in surprise, and you admire the way his eyes crinkle when he does. “Keep it?”

You nod, not expounding on your thought process. He doesn’t need to know the reasoning behind why you do what you do. No one does.

You’re determined to segue the conversation past the topic of names. So, you start walking forward again and ask, “I take it you like to hike, too?”

Jungkook blinks, gripping the handles of backpack tight, but he turns so he faces the same direction you do and falls into synchronized step beside you. “I like anything that keeps me active. I do love hiking specifically, though.” He looks around the both of you, taking in the view as you encroach on your, apparently, shared hiking group. “It’s just so...”

“Breathtaking.”

He smiles back at you. “Yeah, exactly that. What about you?”

“Same here,” you say. “I like to keep moving, whatever that entails. Hiking’s good for that.”

“Do you like to work out?”

“Uh, duh,” you say. “If I could work out for a living, I would.”

He looks at you like you’re insane . “I mean, I like working out, but… would you really do that for a living? Like, make a career out of it?”

You shrug. “I mean, I don’t know. I’m considering doing something like that for a living. Not become a pro athlete or anything, but maybe a P.E teacher, personal trainer, something. I’m definitely not suited for an office job, so.” You shrug. It’s weird for you to think so deeply about the future. Your main goals the past decade have been to get the hell out of your hometown, and get into college. You’ve done both those things. But where will you go from here? What’s your new goal? You won’t profess to have a clue. “I’ll see where life takes me.”

“Oh.” Jungkook seems to chew over that for a moment. “Are you a health sciences major?”

You nod. “You?”

“Honestly, I don’t know yet. I’m undecided.”

Interesting. As blasé as you are about the future, at least you have a major.

You don’t have the time to respond to that revelation, though, because you and Jungkook reach the rest of the hiking group, and a woman comes to you, the epitome of bubbly. “Are you two here to join the hiking club?”

“Yup!” you reply, equally as chirpily. “Where do we sign up?”

She extends the clipboard that was previously attached to her hip. “Sign your name and what year you are here,” she says, pointing to each spot, as if you’d get lost in your search for an empty spot to place your name.

She hands the clipboard to you first, and you write ‘Freshman’ in the year column, but stare for a few seconds too long before impulse takes over and you write a word down in the space next to it.

You hand the clipboard to Jungkook.

You watch as his eyes widen, a slow grin spreading across his face as he writes down his information below yours.

He hands the clipboard to the club manager and she does a quick glance over it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both, Jungkook and Blue,” she says. Jungkook’s eyes bore into the side of your head. “I’m Seeun. Why don’t you both come over to the rest of the group so we can discuss rules and make sure you both have everything you need?”

Gesturing you forward, she turns and walks away.

Slowly, you and Jungkook match each other’s steps as you follow behind her, and he breaks the short silence.

“You’re really going with Blue?”

You nudge him with your elbow and mirror his smile, but amplify. “I told you I liked it.”

He puffs out a laugh, shaking his head, but says nothing else.

Satisfied, you face forward and join the rest of the group — with Jungkook by your side. And though you hardly know him, you think you want to keep him by your side.

#jungkook #bts fic #bts fanfic #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jjk #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook #cyclicism #cyc

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