you are the dancing queen (young and sweet) {jeongguk/jimin/taehyung, pg15}
jeongguk/jimin/taehyung - pg15 - 3.5k
jeongguk has heard donna summers approximately one hundred and sixteen times since he came to seoul.
warnings: sexual jokes be wild
a/n: written for bangtanexchange!
[and also...]
dedicated to the unholy trinity of maknae line, who i will always be in awe of and consistently read their content over the course of the challenge for insp on writing this: monsterplaza, nikkumeul, and carboxyls. pls dont feel pressured into reading this, i just wanted to give insp credit where its due. ;__; and of course, lots of love to jxxnggxk for being a wonderful boyfriend and an even more wonderful beta, because this fic would literally be all over the place if it wasn't for him. literally.
Jeongguk has heard Donna Summers approximately one hundred and sixteen times since he came to Seoul.
He knows this, because no one else in the dormitory uses the karaoke machine which plays it and it keeps count of how many times a song has been played. He had the misfortune of coming to this university the same day it did, and he has not gotten one night of peaceful sleep since.
He knows the lyrics to Hot Stuff by heart, now, it feels- it’s numbing, to lay your head down and hear the ominous disco beat start in the back of your mind, more familiar than your own thoughts. He’d long since tried to shut out the duo that was responsible for his nightly agony, but it was all moot.
The music stops as the song ends, and there’s a chorus of feet moving that sounds like a lot more than two pairs in the room next to his.
And then Jeongguk groans and stuffs his head under his pillow as the song changes to Stayin' Alive, repressing the urge to cry.
He never wants to hear a disco beat again.
"Jeonggukkie, you look a little tired," Seokjin remarks, the drama major sliding into the seat next to the younger with an amused expression. "It's not often I see you pig out and eat at McDonalds, you know. What happened to your low carb diet? All that nonexistent weight you're trying to lose?" A dramatic gasp, before, "what about the muscles?"
The boy in question casts Seokjin a dark look before downing a mouthful of french fries. Some days you just gotta cave, and this is one of them.
"I failed my History test," he finally concedes, too tired to slap at Seokjin's hand as he steals a nugget, exhaustion lining his eyes. "I was one point off from a passing grade. Fffffuuuck, my only hope is the final, now." Jeongguk buried his head in his arms. "I hate college."
"There, there," Seokjin said, patting his head. Jeongguk resists the urge to smack him. "It happens, no one is going to be perfect in their freshman year of university. You’ll live, I promise. You just might be in a bit more debt than everyone else.”
“You’re not helping.”
“I’m just being honest.”
“Thanks, hyung. You’re great.”
“I know.” This time, it’s a fry that’s kidnapped from it’s home, disappearing into Seokjin’s mouth before Jeongguk can bother to say anything. “Anyways, weren’t you studying for it?”
“Yeah, but…” and Jeongguk’s hand goes up to rub at his eyes, teasing out a sigh. “There’s these kids who keep playing karaoke every night and I can’t get any damn sleep,” he exhales. “I swear to god, I’m going to go back in time and assassinate Donna Summers so that I never have to hear Hot Stuff again.”
Seokjin has to suppress a laugh at how venomous the younger sounds, looping an arm around his shoulders and stealing another french fry, munching on it while he knows Jeongguk won’t bother to snap at him for it. He isn't phased when the younger shrugs him off almost immediately, not moving from his position. “Ahhh, disco. There’s only two people I know who like disco at this school.”
Jeongguk’s head snaps up. “You know them?”
The younger slaps Seokjin’s hand away from the next victim out of his french fries. “Who, Kim Taehyung? Yeah, I know him, why?” Seokjin’s grin is mischievous, while Jeongguk gawks at him in horror.
“Do something. You have to do something, hyung.” He startles Seokjin by sitting up abruptly and twisting around to grab him by the shoulders, face gravely serious. “My grades are counting on this, Kim Seokjin. You need to do something. I’ll pay you, I’ll blow you, anything, please.”
“Whoa, whoa, okay,” Seokjin says, prying away Jeongguk’s fingers, “no need to start making sexual offers, I get it.”
“You don’t understand how much I want to strangle him.” Jeongguk may or may not be on the verge of tears, and if it weren’t for the baby face already swaying Seokjin’s opinion, that isn’t helping. “I don’t even know what he looks like, and I want to kill him and the disco genre with it.”
It’s absurd, that he doesn’t know what his next door neighbors look like- all he knows is that they’re in the year above him, and are notorious for being the terror of the male dormitory. And liked karaoke too much, enough so that they recently just relocated the machine to their room. As well as the Sonic games, for that matter.
“Look, you don’t need to murder any music genres, I’ll talk to them, okay?” Seokjin stifles another laugh, “I didn’t realize they were that much of a bother.”
“Says the one who has an apartment and parents kind enough to pay for it.”
“It can’t be that bad, otherwise they would’ve been kicked out already, right?”
Jeongguk’s eyes are pleading. “You don’t understand.”
“Okay, I’ll say something, I’ll take care of it, just- stop giving me that look, you make me want to jump off a bridge.”
The younger blanches. “W-What-”
“It’s because you’re too cute, silly,” and Seokjin ruffles his hair, much to Jeongguk’s loud protest. “I promise, that look of yours is enough to charm the pants off of just about anybody.”
As he later finds out, Seokjin’s idea of ‘taking care of it’ was making Jeongguk meet his neighbors face to face on the steps in front of the dorm building while he was trying to get to his room to spend the rest of his noon break with a nap he sorely deserved. Seokjin had emerged out of nowhere and taken him by surprise, giving him no time to react before he was being spun around, coming face to face with the two people he never wanted to meet in his life.
“Jeon Jeongguk, meet Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin. Taehyung, Jimin, meet your reclusive neighbor. He's a freshman, and suffering a deadly disease called sleeping in History class. Please save him."
"Howdy," says the shorter one, raising one hand up in greeting. He's a little eager, and Jeongguk really thinks good looking people shouldn't be allowed to wear baggy tank tops, but he otherwise seems normal. "I'm Jimin, nice to meet you." Jimin pulls off his snapback to run his fingers through his hair before readjusting it on his head, and the boy next to him is fiddling with his phone, the picture of disinterest.
"Jeongguk," and the youngest extends his hand in greeting, albeit warily, glancing up at Seokjin accusingly, who'd released him the moment Jimin started speaking.
Seokjin is also glued to his phone. So much for support. Reported for leaving game, AFK.
Jimin's hand is just a bit smaller than Jeongguk's when he shakes it, but the feeling lingers, while Jimin pulls away to thwack the other boy over the head with a laugh to get his attention. "Oi, Taehyungie, introduce yourself."
"Hi," Taehyung debatably mumbled, thumbs flying across the screen.
"Stop playing Cookie Run and introduce yourself properly." Jimin is pouting. Oh, oh no, that's cute.
"Hold on," the blond says, more coherent (and stubborn) now. "I'm trying to beat Hobi hyung's high score."
"Hey," and Jimin's hand clasps over the phone, snatching it away, and Taehyung immediately follows, shouting something unintelligible in despair. And, maybe it would work, Jimin holding it up high and laughing, except he's very obviously shorter than Taehyung, which results in a lot of Taehyung giggling and Jimin cackling while they wrestle with each other, ultimately getting nothing done.
He waits almost a full minute before turning to Seokjin and asking in a weary tone, "can I go now?"
"No." Seokjin isn't even watching, eyes still glued to the phone screen. "You should hang out with them." The voice of a bored parent, trying to rid himself of his child. "They're your age." Click. "Ish." Click, click. "Other people you can play League with who isn't Namjoon."
"Is that who you're texting?"
"Yes, and he says hi, by the way. And good luck."
"Tell him I hope he chokes next time he's sucking you off."
Seokjin's the one that chokes, surprised and embarrassed by Jeongguk's bluntness, followed by, "he isn't sucking me o-"
"Okay, hyung," Jeongguk says innocently, raising his eyebrows, fighting a mischievous grin. "Whatever you say."
Jimin and Taehyung are still scuffling around for the phone. Jeongguk doesn't know how they do it.
"I'm leaving, now," Jeongguk calls, loud enough to catch Jimin's attention, and Taehyung steals his phone back with a victorious whoop the moment Jimin's distracted enough to look away. "It was nice meeting you, Jimin, Taehyung."
"You made me lose my high score," Taehyung wailed, ignoring Jeongguk entirely.
Jimin jogs over (yes, jogs) to intercept Jeongguk before he can skirt around them entirely, flashing a smile, eyes crinkling into moons. "H-Hey, sorry about that," he asks, breathlessly, still worn out from fighting with Taehyung. "But, um- hey, do you want to hang out sometime? Actually, Taehyung and I use the karaoke machine a lot in the dorm, and maybe you could join us!"
Shock. Horror. Repulsion. Jeongguk looks to Seokjin for help, who only sticks his tongue back out in response before turning away. (Maybe he shouldn't have teased him like that.)
"Um..." Very smart, Jeongguk. You have a wonderful way with words. He's suddenly shy, unsure of how to get out of this situation without offending him. "I, uh... have a test to study for, sorry."
"Aw, really?" Jimin pouts, disappointment blossoming across his face. "Are you sure you can't come?"
Fuck. Jeongguk glances aside, trying to look anywhere but Jimin"s face. "Well..."
And then his phone goes off, and Jeon Jeongguk thanks God for it, relief flooding in as he looks to Jimin apologetically before pulling away to answer it. "Hello?"
“Hi, can I order one large pizza, please?” It’s Seokjin’s voice, echoing into his ear due to the fact that he’s standing like eight feet away from the guy, and confusion knits itself across Jeongguk’s face.
“...What? Hyung, what are you talking about-”
“With pepperoni, please. And easy sauce!” Jeongguk looks over at Seokjin, thoroughly confused, but before he can ask any questions, the elder doesn’t spare him a glance, continuing with a “and I want it as soon as possible. I’ll pay extra.”
It takes a few seconds for Jeongguk to catch on.
“...R-Right, Namjoon! I’ll get your laundry out of the dryer right away,” he says, voice an octave higher than usual, turning to face opposite of Seokjin. “And I’ll make sure to fold the socks, yeah, I know, I know, I-I’m going! Be there in a second!!”
Jimin is staring at him as Jeongguk hangs up the phone. “...Your hyung makes you get his laundry for him?”
“Mhmm,” Jeongguk lies, glancing away anywhere but Jimin. “It’s, uh, payment for… um… him buying me a few skins on League.”
“Damn. Hardcore.”
“Yeah.”
The older male teases out a smile, holding his hand out again- Taehyung is still rapidly playing Cookie Run, oblivious to his surroundings. “Well, it was nice meeting you then, Jeongguk- we should really hang out sometime, honestly.”
Jeongguk is tempted- if it’s just Jimin. Jimin seems normal. Taehyung is the one that…
He looks at the orange-haired boy. Taehyung’s tongue is sticking out between his teeth, and he lets out a yelp a few moments later at the phone, squinting through his glasses.
“Maybe when finals are over,” Jeongguk hesitantly agrees, turning his eyes back to Jimin and smiling. “It was nice meeting you, Jimin.”
“You should call me hyung, I’m older than you,” Jimin pouts, comically babyish, pulling his hand back once Jeongguk shakes it. “I’ve never had the luxury of having a dongsaeng, Taehyung’s only a few months younger than me, so I never could get him to say it.”
Jeongguk suppresses a grin. “I’ll think about it.”
This is the third game Jeongguk’s lost today, and he can hear Namjoon’s frustration through Skype, but he’s more focused on ranting over actually winning any games. “And, like- Taehyung, or whatever his name was, he didn’t even pay attention to me! Can you believe this? They spend-” and he slams his finger down on the Q key, activating his champion’s ability, “all night-” shit, he’s dying, maybe he shouldn’t have initiated without the rest of the party- “singing fucking disco and-” he’s dead. “And he won’t even spare me a glance! A glance!”
Namjoon sighs through the microphone, and Jeongguk thinks he distinctly hears a thump resounding that is, more than likely, the elder dropping his face to the table due to Jeongguk’s lack of care for actually winning these games. “They’re going to report you for being a shitty player, apparently,” Namjoon warns, not responding to Jeongguk’s rants.
“I don’t care- I’m a good player, I’m just pissed off,” Jeongguk retorts, scowling at the screen. “Besides, this Ashe doesn’t know shit about playing ADC, she’s shitty as hell. I could probably win this game single-handedly if I wasn’t so distracted-”
It goes on like that for another ten minutes before they suffer a humiliating defeat and Jeongguk is, in fact, reported for intentionally feeding (which he was not). They call it quits and Jeongguk leans back in his chair, massaging the bridge of his nose.
And then he hears the ominous sound of ABBA.
“Oh fuck no,” and Namjoon verbally winces at the sharp noise suddenly coming through the microphone, and he’s probably given up on trying to curb Jeongguk’s rage at this point, the Skype call immediately ending. Jeongguk stands from his chair and, after scrounging around for a shirt, promptly pushes out of his room and knocks roughly on the door next door, irritation painted across his face. It’s late- like, 2am late- and he doesn’t care if it’s a weekend, it is too damn late to be loudly playing karaoke. He doesn’t care how attractive Park Jimin is, he’s not getting any reprieve either.
And Taehyung?
Jeongguk’s already dug his grave.
When the music doesn’t immediately stop, Jeongguk knocks again, louder. This seems to catch someone’s attention and the music is paused, and he listens to the distinct noise of someone padding across the floor and towards the entryway.
Then the door swings open, and Jeongguk’s voice is caught in his throat.
“Hi, Jeonggukkie!” Jimin says, smiling wide, and he’s distinctly lacking in a shirt. Suddenly all that anger dissipates as Jeongguk stares down at the older male, smiling up at him. He swallows down the urge to run back into his room and slam the door shut. “Can we help you with something?”
“Your, um,” he says quietly, confidence failing him, “your music is… really loud.”
“Oh! Sorry, Taehyung really loves this stuff,” Jimin laughs, gesturing inside, where Taehyung is bouncing around in place waiting for Jimin to return. “You should join us, it’s not that bad!”
“I- I don’t really like disco,” Jeongguk says, pulling away and desperately trying to free himself from the potential horror that is going to be this night. “Besides, i-it’s late, and-” and Park Jimin is not wearing a shirt, and Jeongguk is too much of an awkward post-teenager to cope, so he just keeps his eyes pointedly away from the display Jimin is making.
“Come on, it’s not that bad,” and then there’s Jimin’s hand on Jeongguk’s wrist and oh, oh, okay, into their room he goes.
Tell Namjoon hyung he loves him.
Four hours.
That’s how long the two keep him there- Jeongguk tried to sleep, or shirk away from Taehyung’s unhealthy love for disco (seriously, he wouldn’t even let Jeongguk choose any of the songs that Weren’t Disco, that’s how bad it was), and he swears that he has the lyrics to Dancing Queen embedded permanently into his skull by the time he wakes up the next morning.
“Mmmnbblthh-” is the extremely attractive noise he makes upon waking up, yawning and rolling over.
Coming face to face with Park Jimin.
“Oh my god-” and Jeongguk immediately regrets yelping like he did- he startles Jimin awake, and then both of them go tumbling off the bed in a heap of limbs and horror, while Taehyung remains undisturbed. “Get off of me, fuck,” because that’s Jimin’s fucking shoulder pressing into Jeongguk’s cheek and he has never been more uncomfortable in his life, for more reasons than one. They’re on the floor like a pile of writhing ragdolls, Jimin splayed out on top of the younger, ass pressing into his knee and the bone of his back digging into his skin.
Jimin shifts and there’s a sharp pain as the fucker elbows him in the eye, resulting in more yelling and eventually Jeongguk managing to push him off, face red, because what the fuck. What the fuck. He scrambles back and eyes him, warily, one eye starting to swell.
“Chill,” is what Taehyung eloquently says, finally, tossing a pillow at the two of them, which promptly hits Jimin in the face- who is still trying to wake up.
Twenty minutes, one coffee and a lot of glaring later, and Jeongguk is seated on the bed again, a bag of ice pressed against his face. “Why were you sleeping in the same bed as me?” he asked, eyeing Jimin carefully. Taehyung had returned to sleeping behind him, face smooshed into the pillow. “Wait. Why was I asleep in your bed?”
“You passed out here last night,” Jimin replies, rubbing at the red spot Jeongguk left after nearly punching him, wearing an expression akin to a wounded puppy. “And I’m sorry! I didn’t want to sleep on the floor. Besides, it’s our bed, we can sleep in it when we want to.”
“Not when you have guests! Not face to face!”
“Oh, please,” Taehyung groggily voices from his position at the other edge of the bed, pressed up against the wall, “I’ve seen you look at Jimin, don’t act like you don’t want to tap that.”
Jeongguk turns five shades of red before abruptly standing, while Jimin’s laughing, and Jeongguk wants to die. Actually die. God forbid he thinks someone is hot. God forbid he has hormones. “I haven’t- I haven’t looked at anyone-”
“You’re still a teenager, Jeon Jeongguk,” and Taehyung rises from the dead, hair sticking against his head in ways that aren’t natural, eyes glued shut from sleep as he languidly waved a hand at the younger. “Eighteen, whatever, close enough. You-” and he points at Jeongguk, “want to fuck-” and he points at Jimin, who’s fighting back tears as he giggles at Taehyung’s words, “Jiminie. Which is normal. I’ve fucked Jiminie, I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who’s actually gotten into his pants, but everyone else has tried.”
Jimin’s on his side now, shaking with laughter. Jeongguk squeaks, “I’ve known you two for like a day,” in protest.
“And?” One eye blearily manages to open, and Taehyung sleepily smiles at him before giving him a thumbs up. “Who cares, you’re cool. You should’ve realized we were adopting you the moment you started reciting the lyrics to Dancing Queen in your sleep.”
“I did not.”
“You did.”
Jeongguk groans and buries his face into the blankets.
“You should thank me,” Seokjin says airily, playing with the straw in his slurpee. “Now you have friends that aren’t two plus years older than you!”
“They’re not my friends,” Jeongguk tries, but that’s a lie, because he recently discovered that Kim Taehyung may be about as social as a rock when it doesn’t involve his phone, but when it does, he never shuts up. Ever. Which results in a lot of texts for Jeongguk to wake up to, every night, occasionally including gross selfies he didn’t ask for (but he’s secretly okay with). “We’re acquaintances with selfie benefits.”
“Selfie benefits,” Seokjin repeats, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a new one.”
“Shut up, at least I’m not sucking off my tutor.”
Seokjin looks like he’s going to scream. “I swear to god-”
“God won’t save you now, hyung,” Jeongguk sing-songs, grinning as he steals the elder’s slurpee and stands, wily enough to dodge Seokjin’s outraged hand trying to steal it back. “Anyways, I’ve got a date, so I’m leaving now- tell Namjoonie hyung I said hi, and that he needs to turn off his mic sometime!”
“Jeon Jeongguk-”
And Jeongguk texts back Jimin with a im on my way also pls dont let seokjin hyung kill me and all is well.
its ok that tae is coming right????? is Jimin’s reply, just as quickly.
duh. Jeongguk’s long since learned that those two came together, and he doesn’t even care anymore at this point. As long as he can keep bribing Taehyung to stop playing fucking disco in the middle of the night, that’s fine. (Besides, he may or may not have a few of Taehyung’s selfies saved on his phone. No big deal or anything. Not as many as Jimin’s, but.) i couldnt detach taehyung from your hip if i tried. and i have.
that’s gay, kookie, and Jeongguk laughs at Jimin’s response. really gay.
it’s all in the ass.
further notes: i may continue this. idk. it's undecided yet. i'm pretty unhappy with ending it so suddenly, so there's a good chance i may rewrite / expand on this au because i love it so much im so sorry
jeongguk has heard donna summers approximately one hundred and sixteen times since he came to seoul.
warnings: sexual jokes be wild
a/n: written for bangtanexchange!
[and also...]
dedicated to the unholy trinity of maknae line, who i will always be in awe of and consistently read their content over the course of the challenge for insp on writing this: monsterplaza, nikkumeul, and carboxyls. pls dont feel pressured into reading this, i just wanted to give insp credit where its due. ;__; and of course, lots of love to jxxnggxk for being a wonderful boyfriend and an even more wonderful beta, because this fic would literally be all over the place if it wasn't for him. literally.
Jeongguk has heard Donna Summers approximately one hundred and sixteen times since he came to Seoul.
He knows this, because no one else in the dormitory uses the karaoke machine which plays it and it keeps count of how many times a song has been played. He had the misfortune of coming to this university the same day it did, and he has not gotten one night of peaceful sleep since.
He knows the lyrics to Hot Stuff by heart, now, it feels- it’s numbing, to lay your head down and hear the ominous disco beat start in the back of your mind, more familiar than your own thoughts. He’d long since tried to shut out the duo that was responsible for his nightly agony, but it was all moot.
The music stops as the song ends, and there’s a chorus of feet moving that sounds like a lot more than two pairs in the room next to his.
And then Jeongguk groans and stuffs his head under his pillow as the song changes to Stayin' Alive, repressing the urge to cry.
He never wants to hear a disco beat again.
"Jeonggukkie, you look a little tired," Seokjin remarks, the drama major sliding into the seat next to the younger with an amused expression. "It's not often I see you pig out and eat at McDonalds, you know. What happened to your low carb diet? All that nonexistent weight you're trying to lose?" A dramatic gasp, before, "what about the muscles?"
The boy in question casts Seokjin a dark look before downing a mouthful of french fries. Some days you just gotta cave, and this is one of them.
"I failed my History test," he finally concedes, too tired to slap at Seokjin's hand as he steals a nugget, exhaustion lining his eyes. "I was one point off from a passing grade. Fffffuuuck, my only hope is the final, now." Jeongguk buried his head in his arms. "I hate college."
"There, there," Seokjin said, patting his head. Jeongguk resists the urge to smack him. "It happens, no one is going to be perfect in their freshman year of university. You’ll live, I promise. You just might be in a bit more debt than everyone else.”
“You’re not helping.”
“I’m just being honest.”
“Thanks, hyung. You’re great.”
“I know.” This time, it’s a fry that’s kidnapped from it’s home, disappearing into Seokjin’s mouth before Jeongguk can bother to say anything. “Anyways, weren’t you studying for it?”
“Yeah, but…” and Jeongguk’s hand goes up to rub at his eyes, teasing out a sigh. “There’s these kids who keep playing karaoke every night and I can’t get any damn sleep,” he exhales. “I swear to god, I’m going to go back in time and assassinate Donna Summers so that I never have to hear Hot Stuff again.”
Seokjin has to suppress a laugh at how venomous the younger sounds, looping an arm around his shoulders and stealing another french fry, munching on it while he knows Jeongguk won’t bother to snap at him for it. He isn't phased when the younger shrugs him off almost immediately, not moving from his position. “Ahhh, disco. There’s only two people I know who like disco at this school.”
Jeongguk’s head snaps up. “You know them?”
The younger slaps Seokjin’s hand away from the next victim out of his french fries. “Who, Kim Taehyung? Yeah, I know him, why?” Seokjin’s grin is mischievous, while Jeongguk gawks at him in horror.
“Do something. You have to do something, hyung.” He startles Seokjin by sitting up abruptly and twisting around to grab him by the shoulders, face gravely serious. “My grades are counting on this, Kim Seokjin. You need to do something. I’ll pay you, I’ll blow you, anything, please.”
“Whoa, whoa, okay,” Seokjin says, prying away Jeongguk’s fingers, “no need to start making sexual offers, I get it.”
“You don’t understand how much I want to strangle him.” Jeongguk may or may not be on the verge of tears, and if it weren’t for the baby face already swaying Seokjin’s opinion, that isn’t helping. “I don’t even know what he looks like, and I want to kill him and the disco genre with it.”
It’s absurd, that he doesn’t know what his next door neighbors look like- all he knows is that they’re in the year above him, and are notorious for being the terror of the male dormitory. And liked karaoke too much, enough so that they recently just relocated the machine to their room. As well as the Sonic games, for that matter.
“Look, you don’t need to murder any music genres, I’ll talk to them, okay?” Seokjin stifles another laugh, “I didn’t realize they were that much of a bother.”
“Says the one who has an apartment and parents kind enough to pay for it.”
“It can’t be that bad, otherwise they would’ve been kicked out already, right?”
Jeongguk’s eyes are pleading. “You don’t understand.”
“Okay, I’ll say something, I’ll take care of it, just- stop giving me that look, you make me want to jump off a bridge.”
The younger blanches. “W-What-”
“It’s because you’re too cute, silly,” and Seokjin ruffles his hair, much to Jeongguk’s loud protest. “I promise, that look of yours is enough to charm the pants off of just about anybody.”
As he later finds out, Seokjin’s idea of ‘taking care of it’ was making Jeongguk meet his neighbors face to face on the steps in front of the dorm building while he was trying to get to his room to spend the rest of his noon break with a nap he sorely deserved. Seokjin had emerged out of nowhere and taken him by surprise, giving him no time to react before he was being spun around, coming face to face with the two people he never wanted to meet in his life.
“Jeon Jeongguk, meet Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin. Taehyung, Jimin, meet your reclusive neighbor. He's a freshman, and suffering a deadly disease called sleeping in History class. Please save him."
"Howdy," says the shorter one, raising one hand up in greeting. He's a little eager, and Jeongguk really thinks good looking people shouldn't be allowed to wear baggy tank tops, but he otherwise seems normal. "I'm Jimin, nice to meet you." Jimin pulls off his snapback to run his fingers through his hair before readjusting it on his head, and the boy next to him is fiddling with his phone, the picture of disinterest.
"Jeongguk," and the youngest extends his hand in greeting, albeit warily, glancing up at Seokjin accusingly, who'd released him the moment Jimin started speaking.
Seokjin is also glued to his phone. So much for support. Reported for leaving game, AFK.
Jimin's hand is just a bit smaller than Jeongguk's when he shakes it, but the feeling lingers, while Jimin pulls away to thwack the other boy over the head with a laugh to get his attention. "Oi, Taehyungie, introduce yourself."
"Hi," Taehyung debatably mumbled, thumbs flying across the screen.
"Stop playing Cookie Run and introduce yourself properly." Jimin is pouting. Oh, oh no, that's cute.
"Hold on," the blond says, more coherent (and stubborn) now. "I'm trying to beat Hobi hyung's high score."
"Hey," and Jimin's hand clasps over the phone, snatching it away, and Taehyung immediately follows, shouting something unintelligible in despair. And, maybe it would work, Jimin holding it up high and laughing, except he's very obviously shorter than Taehyung, which results in a lot of Taehyung giggling and Jimin cackling while they wrestle with each other, ultimately getting nothing done.
He waits almost a full minute before turning to Seokjin and asking in a weary tone, "can I go now?"
"No." Seokjin isn't even watching, eyes still glued to the phone screen. "You should hang out with them." The voice of a bored parent, trying to rid himself of his child. "They're your age." Click. "Ish." Click, click. "Other people you can play League with who isn't Namjoon."
"Is that who you're texting?"
"Yes, and he says hi, by the way. And good luck."
"Tell him I hope he chokes next time he's sucking you off."
Seokjin's the one that chokes, surprised and embarrassed by Jeongguk's bluntness, followed by, "he isn't sucking me o-"
"Okay, hyung," Jeongguk says innocently, raising his eyebrows, fighting a mischievous grin. "Whatever you say."
Jimin and Taehyung are still scuffling around for the phone. Jeongguk doesn't know how they do it.
"I'm leaving, now," Jeongguk calls, loud enough to catch Jimin's attention, and Taehyung steals his phone back with a victorious whoop the moment Jimin's distracted enough to look away. "It was nice meeting you, Jimin, Taehyung."
"You made me lose my high score," Taehyung wailed, ignoring Jeongguk entirely.
Jimin jogs over (yes, jogs) to intercept Jeongguk before he can skirt around them entirely, flashing a smile, eyes crinkling into moons. "H-Hey, sorry about that," he asks, breathlessly, still worn out from fighting with Taehyung. "But, um- hey, do you want to hang out sometime? Actually, Taehyung and I use the karaoke machine a lot in the dorm, and maybe you could join us!"
Shock. Horror. Repulsion. Jeongguk looks to Seokjin for help, who only sticks his tongue back out in response before turning away. (Maybe he shouldn't have teased him like that.)
"Um..." Very smart, Jeongguk. You have a wonderful way with words. He's suddenly shy, unsure of how to get out of this situation without offending him. "I, uh... have a test to study for, sorry."
"Aw, really?" Jimin pouts, disappointment blossoming across his face. "Are you sure you can't come?"
Fuck. Jeongguk glances aside, trying to look anywhere but Jimin"s face. "Well..."
And then his phone goes off, and Jeon Jeongguk thanks God for it, relief flooding in as he looks to Jimin apologetically before pulling away to answer it. "Hello?"
“Hi, can I order one large pizza, please?” It’s Seokjin’s voice, echoing into his ear due to the fact that he’s standing like eight feet away from the guy, and confusion knits itself across Jeongguk’s face.
“...What? Hyung, what are you talking about-”
“With pepperoni, please. And easy sauce!” Jeongguk looks over at Seokjin, thoroughly confused, but before he can ask any questions, the elder doesn’t spare him a glance, continuing with a “and I want it as soon as possible. I’ll pay extra.”
It takes a few seconds for Jeongguk to catch on.
“...R-Right, Namjoon! I’ll get your laundry out of the dryer right away,” he says, voice an octave higher than usual, turning to face opposite of Seokjin. “And I’ll make sure to fold the socks, yeah, I know, I know, I-I’m going! Be there in a second!!”
Jimin is staring at him as Jeongguk hangs up the phone. “...Your hyung makes you get his laundry for him?”
“Mhmm,” Jeongguk lies, glancing away anywhere but Jimin. “It’s, uh, payment for… um… him buying me a few skins on League.”
“Damn. Hardcore.”
“Yeah.”
The older male teases out a smile, holding his hand out again- Taehyung is still rapidly playing Cookie Run, oblivious to his surroundings. “Well, it was nice meeting you then, Jeongguk- we should really hang out sometime, honestly.”
Jeongguk is tempted- if it’s just Jimin. Jimin seems normal. Taehyung is the one that…
He looks at the orange-haired boy. Taehyung’s tongue is sticking out between his teeth, and he lets out a yelp a few moments later at the phone, squinting through his glasses.
“Maybe when finals are over,” Jeongguk hesitantly agrees, turning his eyes back to Jimin and smiling. “It was nice meeting you, Jimin.”
“You should call me hyung, I’m older than you,” Jimin pouts, comically babyish, pulling his hand back once Jeongguk shakes it. “I’ve never had the luxury of having a dongsaeng, Taehyung’s only a few months younger than me, so I never could get him to say it.”
Jeongguk suppresses a grin. “I’ll think about it.”
This is the third game Jeongguk’s lost today, and he can hear Namjoon’s frustration through Skype, but he’s more focused on ranting over actually winning any games. “And, like- Taehyung, or whatever his name was, he didn’t even pay attention to me! Can you believe this? They spend-” and he slams his finger down on the Q key, activating his champion’s ability, “all night-” shit, he’s dying, maybe he shouldn’t have initiated without the rest of the party- “singing fucking disco and-” he’s dead. “And he won’t even spare me a glance! A glance!”
Namjoon sighs through the microphone, and Jeongguk thinks he distinctly hears a thump resounding that is, more than likely, the elder dropping his face to the table due to Jeongguk’s lack of care for actually winning these games. “They’re going to report you for being a shitty player, apparently,” Namjoon warns, not responding to Jeongguk’s rants.
“I don’t care- I’m a good player, I’m just pissed off,” Jeongguk retorts, scowling at the screen. “Besides, this Ashe doesn’t know shit about playing ADC, she’s shitty as hell. I could probably win this game single-handedly if I wasn’t so distracted-”
It goes on like that for another ten minutes before they suffer a humiliating defeat and Jeongguk is, in fact, reported for intentionally feeding (which he was not). They call it quits and Jeongguk leans back in his chair, massaging the bridge of his nose.
And then he hears the ominous sound of ABBA.
“Oh fuck no,” and Namjoon verbally winces at the sharp noise suddenly coming through the microphone, and he’s probably given up on trying to curb Jeongguk’s rage at this point, the Skype call immediately ending. Jeongguk stands from his chair and, after scrounging around for a shirt, promptly pushes out of his room and knocks roughly on the door next door, irritation painted across his face. It’s late- like, 2am late- and he doesn’t care if it’s a weekend, it is too damn late to be loudly playing karaoke. He doesn’t care how attractive Park Jimin is, he’s not getting any reprieve either.
And Taehyung?
Jeongguk’s already dug his grave.
When the music doesn’t immediately stop, Jeongguk knocks again, louder. This seems to catch someone’s attention and the music is paused, and he listens to the distinct noise of someone padding across the floor and towards the entryway.
Then the door swings open, and Jeongguk’s voice is caught in his throat.
“Hi, Jeonggukkie!” Jimin says, smiling wide, and he’s distinctly lacking in a shirt. Suddenly all that anger dissipates as Jeongguk stares down at the older male, smiling up at him. He swallows down the urge to run back into his room and slam the door shut. “Can we help you with something?”
“Your, um,” he says quietly, confidence failing him, “your music is… really loud.”
“Oh! Sorry, Taehyung really loves this stuff,” Jimin laughs, gesturing inside, where Taehyung is bouncing around in place waiting for Jimin to return. “You should join us, it’s not that bad!”
“I- I don’t really like disco,” Jeongguk says, pulling away and desperately trying to free himself from the potential horror that is going to be this night. “Besides, i-it’s late, and-” and Park Jimin is not wearing a shirt, and Jeongguk is too much of an awkward post-teenager to cope, so he just keeps his eyes pointedly away from the display Jimin is making.
“Come on, it’s not that bad,” and then there’s Jimin’s hand on Jeongguk’s wrist and oh, oh, okay, into their room he goes.
Tell Namjoon hyung he loves him.
Four hours.
That’s how long the two keep him there- Jeongguk tried to sleep, or shirk away from Taehyung’s unhealthy love for disco (seriously, he wouldn’t even let Jeongguk choose any of the songs that Weren’t Disco, that’s how bad it was), and he swears that he has the lyrics to Dancing Queen embedded permanently into his skull by the time he wakes up the next morning.
“Mmmnbblthh-” is the extremely attractive noise he makes upon waking up, yawning and rolling over.
Coming face to face with Park Jimin.
“Oh my god-” and Jeongguk immediately regrets yelping like he did- he startles Jimin awake, and then both of them go tumbling off the bed in a heap of limbs and horror, while Taehyung remains undisturbed. “Get off of me, fuck,” because that’s Jimin’s fucking shoulder pressing into Jeongguk’s cheek and he has never been more uncomfortable in his life, for more reasons than one. They’re on the floor like a pile of writhing ragdolls, Jimin splayed out on top of the younger, ass pressing into his knee and the bone of his back digging into his skin.
Jimin shifts and there’s a sharp pain as the fucker elbows him in the eye, resulting in more yelling and eventually Jeongguk managing to push him off, face red, because what the fuck. What the fuck. He scrambles back and eyes him, warily, one eye starting to swell.
“Chill,” is what Taehyung eloquently says, finally, tossing a pillow at the two of them, which promptly hits Jimin in the face- who is still trying to wake up.
Twenty minutes, one coffee and a lot of glaring later, and Jeongguk is seated on the bed again, a bag of ice pressed against his face. “Why were you sleeping in the same bed as me?” he asked, eyeing Jimin carefully. Taehyung had returned to sleeping behind him, face smooshed into the pillow. “Wait. Why was I asleep in your bed?”
“You passed out here last night,” Jimin replies, rubbing at the red spot Jeongguk left after nearly punching him, wearing an expression akin to a wounded puppy. “And I’m sorry! I didn’t want to sleep on the floor. Besides, it’s our bed, we can sleep in it when we want to.”
“Not when you have guests! Not face to face!”
“Oh, please,” Taehyung groggily voices from his position at the other edge of the bed, pressed up against the wall, “I’ve seen you look at Jimin, don’t act like you don’t want to tap that.”
Jeongguk turns five shades of red before abruptly standing, while Jimin’s laughing, and Jeongguk wants to die. Actually die. God forbid he thinks someone is hot. God forbid he has hormones. “I haven’t- I haven’t looked at anyone-”
“You’re still a teenager, Jeon Jeongguk,” and Taehyung rises from the dead, hair sticking against his head in ways that aren’t natural, eyes glued shut from sleep as he languidly waved a hand at the younger. “Eighteen, whatever, close enough. You-” and he points at Jeongguk, “want to fuck-” and he points at Jimin, who’s fighting back tears as he giggles at Taehyung’s words, “Jiminie. Which is normal. I’ve fucked Jiminie, I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who’s actually gotten into his pants, but everyone else has tried.”
Jimin’s on his side now, shaking with laughter. Jeongguk squeaks, “I’ve known you two for like a day,” in protest.
“And?” One eye blearily manages to open, and Taehyung sleepily smiles at him before giving him a thumbs up. “Who cares, you’re cool. You should’ve realized we were adopting you the moment you started reciting the lyrics to Dancing Queen in your sleep.”
“I did not.”
“You did.”
Jeongguk groans and buries his face into the blankets.
“You should thank me,” Seokjin says airily, playing with the straw in his slurpee. “Now you have friends that aren’t two plus years older than you!”
“They’re not my friends,” Jeongguk tries, but that’s a lie, because he recently discovered that Kim Taehyung may be about as social as a rock when it doesn’t involve his phone, but when it does, he never shuts up. Ever. Which results in a lot of texts for Jeongguk to wake up to, every night, occasionally including gross selfies he didn’t ask for (but he’s secretly okay with). “We’re acquaintances with selfie benefits.”
“Selfie benefits,” Seokjin repeats, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a new one.”
“Shut up, at least I’m not sucking off my tutor.”
Seokjin looks like he’s going to scream. “I swear to god-”
“God won’t save you now, hyung,” Jeongguk sing-songs, grinning as he steals the elder’s slurpee and stands, wily enough to dodge Seokjin’s outraged hand trying to steal it back. “Anyways, I’ve got a date, so I’m leaving now- tell Namjoonie hyung I said hi, and that he needs to turn off his mic sometime!”
“Jeon Jeongguk-”
And Jeongguk texts back Jimin with a im on my way also pls dont let seokjin hyung kill me and all is well.
its ok that tae is coming right????? is Jimin’s reply, just as quickly.
duh. Jeongguk’s long since learned that those two came together, and he doesn’t even care anymore at this point. As long as he can keep bribing Taehyung to stop playing fucking disco in the middle of the night, that’s fine. (Besides, he may or may not have a few of Taehyung’s selfies saved on his phone. No big deal or anything. Not as many as Jimin’s, but.) i couldnt detach taehyung from your hip if i tried. and i have.
that’s gay, kookie, and Jeongguk laughs at Jimin’s response. really gay.
it’s all in the ass.
further notes: i may continue this. idk. it's undecided yet. i'm pretty unhappy with ending it so suddenly, so there's a good chance i may rewrite / expand on this au because i love it so much im so sorry