102. Me Under You Pt. 2

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By: @vera_ba

"Should I leave you two alone or–––"

"No!"

"Yes!"

Jungkook gives Jae a death stare before turning to the other, "it will be just a second," he says.

Jimin blinks, back resting against the wall. "O-okay," he replies quietly, crossing his arms over his chest. He's definitely uncomfortable. Jungkook can relate.

"Jae, you can't just barge into my office like this," he turns to his ex-fiancé, who doesn't even try to hide his annoyance. "Anyway," he sighs, "is it about work?" Jungkook asks innocently. He knows it isn't.

Jae gapes, taking a step forward, then back. He looks uncomfortable, too.

Good.

"No, but––"

"I'm sure it can wait a few minutes, then," Jungkook replies sternly, "if you could close the door behind yourself, please," he murmurs, gaze turning back to his computer screen.

"Jungkookie, baby, don't be like that–––" Jae starts in that condescending tone Jungkook hates so fucking much, the one that signals he doesn't take the younger seriously at all–––

"I'm in the middle of a job interview," Jungkook raises his voice, which seems to startle the other, surprised by the unusual reaction, especially at work. Truth to be told, Jungkook does have a temper in general, but he has always tended to suppress it as much as possible with Jae, because the older does, too, and he didn't want to fight––––

Maybe it wasn't the best course of action. Or he has gone overboard with it, resulting in his own fiancé not taking him seriously; because hell, he definitely doesn't, considering how he feels like he's allowed to barge into Jungkook's office, his boss's office, still, and humiliate him in front of someone else–––

"Okay, umm–––" Jae tears his gaze away, "I'll come back later, then," he murmurs, leaving the office.

Jungkook has to bite his lower lip to stop himself from blurting out a snarky remark. It's not the time. Not when Jimin is here––– fuck, he has definitely connected the dots, hasn't he? This is so embarrassing–––

"So ––– cheating fiancé?" Jimin tilts his head toward the door, still leaning against the wall. Jungkook nods. There's no point in denying it. "What a douche," Jimin scoffs, pushing himself away from the wall.

"Alright," the older starts again, walking closer to the desk hesitantly, "what's now?"

"Huh?" Jungkook blinks, still trying to wrap his head around ––– everything.

"I mean," Jimin chuckles weakly, hiding his hands in his pockets, "let's be real; I am clearly not who you've expected and me being here is making you uncomfortable," he says, "which is totally understandable, by the way," he adds quickly.

"I––– yeah," Jungkook admits, feeling his cheeks heat up, hand reaching up to hide his ear embarrassedly. "I–– look, Jimin, it's ––– I just ––" he starts to stutter, the firm act he's used against Jae evaporating in mere seconds, "I don't ––– think it's a good idea–––"

"Right," Jimin answers quietly, kicking the floor lightly, his gaze focused on it, too. "I'll just go then," he glances up, giving the younger a weak smile before he turns on his heels, padding to the exit.

The door closes. Jungkook is alone. He exhales relievedly, slumping down on his chair. However, his relief isn't for long and is disrupted by another round of knocks on his office door. He squeezes his eyes tiredly, signaling for the person behind the door to come in. He swears, if it's Jae again, he won't take responsibility for throwing some office supplies into his face or his crotch––––

"Hi," a mop of brown hair appears, his best friend blinking at him with worry underneath.

"Hi," Jungkook replies tiredly, staring at his dark computer screen blankly.

"Do you want to talk about –– whatever the hell just happened?" Tae asks concernedly, pulling the chair neatly placed in front of Jungkook's desk and sitting down, signaling that despite the questioning wording, he won't back down easily.

"I want to crawl into a hole and die, that's what happened," Jungkook huffs, hiding his face in his palms with a frustrated whine, kicking with his feet under the table.

"Did Jae give you a hard time?" Tae asks firmly, "Kook, if you don't punch him, I'm going to."

"I don't think violence would fix anything, Hyung," the younger murmurs, that dull pain under his ribs overpowering his anger.

Or maybe he's just tired.

Tired of thinking about it, tired of dealing with it, so fucking tired, but he has to, he always does–––

"You know what would?" the brunet pulls him out of his thoughts, the other humming, "firing that bastard."

"Hyung," Jungkook chuckles weakly, "I can't just fire him because I have personal issues with him," he says, "I know I've said a lot of shit yesterday out of anger, but I have to be reasonable," he admits, feeling slightly embarrassed for the fit he's thrown yesterday at Taehyung's, after barging in with the news, infuriated–––

He can't do that at work. People already assume he's too young to be in this position, to lead a company, too immature to have so much responsibility, therefore, he has to be extra careful to control his temper in work-related situations. He can't afford to ruin his reputation, and oh boy, throwing a tantrum would definitely do that, considering how fast gossip seems to travel in these circles–––

"Okay, change of topic," Tae stops his train of thought, "what happened with the intern guy?"

Jungkook whines, hiding his face in his palms again, slipping even lower on his shrivel chair.

"Can we go back to my asshole ex instead?" he mumbles, the tip of his ears probably bright pink at this point.

"Why? What happened? I'm sorry, Kook, he seemed really nice–––" Tae starts to apologize, visibly getting more and more concerned with every word leaving his mouth, fuck, Jungkook has to cut in.

"No," the younger sighs, already knowing his friend will have a field day with this––– "he really is nice," he gulps, "in fact, I know that very ––– intimately."

It takes Taehyung a second to click.

"You're shitting me," the brunet says, bewildered, "you fucked him?" he says in disbelief.

"Why is it so unbelievable?" Jungkook huffs, offended now.

"Well, don't get me wrong, you're hot, he's hot, I can put two and two together," Tae grins, the younger rolling his eyes, "it's just that ––– he doesn't seem like your type."

Jungkook blinks surprisedly. "What are you talking about? He's exactly my type."

"Nah," Tae shakes his head, "you always go for the nerdy and – forgive me, but – boring ones, Kook."

"Well, you always say I'm a nerd, too, so––" Jungkook shrugs, trying to play off how his friend's word stung him.

"You are," Tae grimaces, kicking the younger's shoes under the desk playfully, "but a cool one," he says, "yet you always play it –– safe," he says, wording it carefully.

Jungkook doesn't really understand, but still, there's that deeply rooted defense mechanism kicking in–––

"What's wrong with safe? Safe is good, safe is what–––" he sighs, gaze drifting to that damn framed engagement photo on top of the table ––– "what a relationship is supposed to be."

"You're misunderstanding me," Tae says, clasping his hands in his lap, "I meant safe in the sense like –––" he purses his lips, contemplating, "like, you're a solid ten, right?" he says, the younger grimacing, maybe a seven on a really good day––– "yet you always go for, like, fives," the brunet says with a dramatic hand gesture.

"Well, it's not only about good looks, you know––––"

"It was a precisely calculated average of looks and personality," Tae smiles smugly, leaning back on his chair.

"So, you're saying my boyfriends are fives on average," Jungkook huffs amusedly, grateful for the lighthearted humor. He's always loved this about Taehyung; how he manages to wrap the serious stuff in a soft cushion of playfulness, to take its edge off.

"Yeah, and every douchebag move deducts one point, so Jae is a solid zero."

Jungkook scoffs, dread filling his system again. "Or a minus five," he mumbles under his nose, shaking his head as the older hums questioningly, "anyway, your point is?"

"My point is, that you should fuck tens like the almost-intern guy more often."

"I'm not going to fuck Jimin after sending him away just because we've had sex," Jungkook mumbles, fiddling with the hem of his – Jimin's – shirt, a pang of guilt echoing in his heart. He didn't even give the poor guy a chance–––

"I didn't say him specifically, although–––" Tae thinks out loud, breaking off after a death glare from the younger, "on that note, please tell me it's his shirt," he grins, glancing at the younger's button-up, which is one quick move away from ripping open.

Jungkook glares at him again, but this time, it doesn't seem to work, leaving the younger huffing, before he mumbles a quiet 'yes' under his nose, the older bursting into a full body laughter.

"Stop laughing at my misery, you ass," Jungkook whines, throwing a crumpled up paper at him.

"M'sorry," Tae tried to compose himself, dodging the younger's assault, "sorry," he said again, wiping the corner of his eye amusedly, "I swear I'm not laughing at your misery, Kook, it's just wild––– like, what are the chances?"

"Yeah," Jungkook cracks a smile too, trying to push the guilt down but it's stubbornly sticking to his chest, weighing it down––– "I'm–– maybe it wasn't the most ––– thoughtful to send Jimin away without even ––" he sighs, trying to pull the sleeves of the shirt over his hands and failing deliberately, "you know, without even giving him a chance to prove himself––" he stumbles over his words, blushing when the older quirks a brow amusedly, "I mean, professionally."

"Well," Taehyung shrugs, "I do think you should've kicked Jae's ass out, professionally, too, instead of him," he admits, "but it's your choice, Kook, you're the one who would have to work with him daily, so of course, it's important you feel comfortable in his presence."

Oh, Jungkook was comfortable with Jimin. Maybe a little bit too comfortable, considering how –– vulnerable he let himself be last night.

So no, the lack of comfort is definitely not the problem here, in fact, it's quite the opposite. He isn't sure if he's ready for someone new in his life who knows him in such a ––– ground level.

Jungkook hums, busying himself with wiping some invisible dust from his desk.

"Alright," Tae stands up slowly, "gotta go," he says, checking his e-mails with a concentrated frown Jungkook recognizes as his best friend switching back into work mode.

"Okay," Jungkook gives him a weak smile, the older reciprocating earnestly before walking to the door.

"Hey, Jungkook-ah," Tae glances back, the younger humming, "life only takes from us to make space for the things that were meant to be ours," he says gently, "everything is going to be alright."

The younger blinks, suddenly too choked up to speak, nodding instead. He stares blankly at his friend's figure exiting the office, trying to ignore that fresh wound throbbing with pain again, reminding him that it's still there, still not healed–––

It's a strange blend of emotions, the ones nesting deep within his heart right now. Bittersweet, almost.

Ironically enough, despite all the hurt, it doesn't feel as if it was something indispensable taken from him – which is, how he's expected a breakup to feel like – something he can't live without. It's rather––– like a huge weight off his shoulders. And the worst part is that he can't even explain it. He's just ––– sitting here, feeling these things, his fucking emotions, yet he can't even explain them to himself–––

Jungkook doesn't like things he can't explain. He never did. They make him anxious and jittery–––

Ugh.

Honestly, the best he can do right now is accept it and hope it will go away soon. Maybe concentrate on something else. Something he can actually fix–––

There's always something to fix at work. Yeah, that's what he needs, right? Something to drain his mental energy, so he can just fall into the bed and just sleep, refusing to give his mind enough power to do the usual laying wide awake at 3 AM and overthinking thingy––––

Yeah, let's try that.







It didn't work.

It didn't fucking work, and it might not be 3 AM yet, but it's way past midnight and Jungkook is staring at the ceiling in his empty bed.

It feels wrong, being here.

He tosses and turns, huffing frustratedly. What's wrong with him? It was his bed before it became their bed, for fucks sake. That asshole even managed to ruin his bed for him, and it has fucking memory foam –––

Fucking unbelievable.

Jungkook gets off the bed, huffing, and puffing as he drags his blanket behind him with one hand, clutching his favorite pillow onto his chest with the other as he stomps to the living room to lay down onto the sofa. Don't get him wrong, his sofa is really comfy, it's not about that, but principles. Fucking Jae. If only he had any of those.

Needless to say, Jungkook wasn't exactly what you'd call well-rested the next morning. In fact, he was terrifyingly close to falling asleep when his phone rang, almost making him fall off his chair.

"Hello, George," he greets the doorman through the line, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"Sir, there was a young man claiming you've left your phone with him," George says, a little hesitantly, "he's left the device here, I don't know what should I do with it–––"

"Really?" Jungkook says in disbelief, his heart doing something weird in his chest again as the old doorman confirms, "was he––" no, don't ask if he was really pretty, idiot, "did he have blue hair by any chance?"

"Yes, sir."

Jungkook couldn't help but smile. There they were again; these feelings blending inside him like paint on a canvas, the more appearing, the harder it is to distinguish the colors–––

However, it is just as different from the bittersweet feeling he's felt last night in his bed as it is similar. Jungkook has never been more confused by his own damn self in his life.

He sighs, shaking his head lightly as if it would help him get rid of these strange thoughts.

"Could you bring it up for me, please?"

George agreed, the phone call ending with a soft click on the line. He's a little dazed as the doorman pads into his office after a few soft knocks, handing him the phone, his phone–––

Truth to be told, he felt so ashamed by everything that has happened, there was no way in hell he'd try to contact Jimin in any way to get his phone back, no matter how important it was – his whole life was on it, after all. Still, Jungkook was ready to let it go and use his old phone until he has some time to buy a new one, just to avoid another awkward encounter, which is, now that he thinks about it, is ridiculous–––

No, it's okay. He had a rough week. It's okay to know his limits and avoid situations that would only make him more stressed. He had a tough fucking week, and he deserves to act like a child, even if just for a little–––

Because that's how he behaved, right? A child; not like an adult that he is ––– not like Jimin.

While Jimin managed to handle it calmly and reasonably, he ––– just tried his best to avoid the situation.

Fuck. Okay, enough self-deprecation for today.

Jungkook sighs, turning his computer on, his e-mails, brushing through them lazily, then ––– his heart jumps in his throat again as his gaze gets stuck on the one Taehyung has sent yesterday with Jimin's CV attached to it. Jungkook gulps around the lump in his throat – or at least, tries – as he opens, eyes reading through the information–––

Oh.

Shit, Taehyung is right, he's smart.

Graduated SeoulTech a year ago with honors.

Damn, he even managed to intern at Samsung.

And he's enrolled at New York Institute of Technology for his masters –– that's actually quite impressive.

Jungkook worries his lower lip, contemplating. Maybe it is the time to behave like an adult and–––

Maybe there is something he can fix.









He can do it.

He is a big boy, he has a whole ass company, he can handle a little awkwardness.

Jungkook inhales shakily, trying to believe his self-encouragement as he presses the doorbell. His pulse quickens as he hears the shuffling inside, gulping as the key turns in the lock––

"Oh," the blond man blinks, eyeing him from underneath his fringe, "hi, Bambi," he says in a calm tone, arms crossed over his chest, leaning on the doorframe. It takes Jungkook a quick second to realize he's the one addressed.

"Umm–––" he shifts on his feet, "hi, umm––" he clears his throat, "Bambi?"

"Well, I don't know your name," the blond shrugs.

"It's––– Jungkook."

"Okay, Jungkook," the other says, not bothering to introduce himself, "forgot something other than your phone?"

Jungkook blinks, tearing his gaze away embarrassedly. "No, it's not –––" he tries, taking a deep breath before he continues, "I'm here to talk to Jimin, actually," he says, feeling the tip of his ears burn as the blond quirks a brow at him amusedly, reaching up to hide it out of habit.

"I see," the blond hummed, pondering for a moment before he stepped out of the way, "Jimin will be home soon," he said, "you can come in and wait for him if you want."

Truth to be told, Jungkook isn't sure if he does want. However, this man looks too intimidating to decline such an offer, and waiting outside the door sounds even more awkward so–––

"Thank you, umm–––" he starts, looking at the other in a silent question, biting his lower lip anxiously.

"Yoongi," the man says, walking to the kitchen, the younger following him like a lost puppy.

Jungkook looks around, something he didn't have the chance the first time. This place is surprisingly cozy and put together, despite Jimin's claim that he's a messy person. Maybe Yoongi isn't. Maybe Yoongi is the one who likes plants so much, too––– although, Jimin looks like the person whom even plants would like to be around. He definitely doesn't give off that constant anxious energy that he does–––

Well, at least that's what Jin blamed on the younger's plants dying like flies.

"Sit down," Yoongi says, although it doesn't sound like a command, more like a suggestion. He isn't a man of words, Jungkook concludes as he puts his butt down on the sofa, fiddling with his fingers nervously.

"So––" he clears his throat awkwardly, "are you and Jimin friends?" he says, wincing at his own words. Fuck, why can't he behave in front of strangers? Just keep your mouth shut,

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