“listen, it’s either you drink it now or i’m leaving you for real to die in this small room.”

jimin whines as he buries himself further into the mattress. his whole body is wrapped in three layers of blanket and two layers of oversized sweaters (that is owned by kim taehyung). he looks like a literal version of human burrito with his newly dyed orange hair. really.

now jungkook kind of wants to eat a burrito.

“it’s not in my job description to babysit you. hyung, just drink the medicine and get over with it already.”

another whine.

it looks like he’s going to be stubborn for a while. god, this is stupid. really ing stupid. jimin got sick last night because he made out with taehyung in the rain and came home drenched while leaving puddles of water on the floor (and jungkook almost screamed in frustration as he wipes it dry).

and jimin is being stubborn about the whole medicine because he claims that the tablet always chokes him.

(“but you don’t have any problem with taehyung choking you with his , what the ?”

“jungkook, what the .”

“no but seriously just pretend this is his or something.”

and jimin narrows his eyes. oh god. he’s actually considering it. “nah that’s too small, it won’t be the same.”

what the .)

“whatever, hyung. i’m leaving these here because i actually have better things to do than to watch you slowly succumb to your death.”

he huffs and turns to leave jimin. he does have better things to do than to shove medicine pills to jimin’s throat.

as he (not so gently) closes the door, he hears jimin yell something about losing respect to older people.

-x-

“is jimin still sick? taehyung follows jungkook to the faculty room, clutching a small paper bag.

“yeah.”

“i knew it was a bad idea.” there was a hint of sadness in his voice but he sounds like he was about to say but it was worth it at the same time.

jungkook turns around to face the older male. he stares at him for a solid one minute because his fringe is green. like, seaweed green.

“you look like a seaweed.”

taehyung pouts. “hey, i’m your hyung.”

“sorry.” jungkook clears his throat. “you look like a ing seaweed, hyung.”

taehyung grins and gives him thumbs up of approval. “better! anyway, can i visit him? i have medicine syrup for him.”

jungkook stares at the paper bag suspiciously. if he learned anything from taehyung with his complicated relationship with jimin, it’s to never trust the s that he brings. he doesn’t know what he’s doing most of the time. he once brought a knife instead of a pen to a class before and if that doesn’t prove his point then he doesn’t know what else.

“are you sure those are syrup for colds?”

“of course!” he scrunches his nose and opens the paper bag for jungkook to see. and yeah, those are syrups for colds. “jin hyung told me to bring them.”

seokjin. jungkook can feel his cheeks going red just by hearing his name. “fine. don’t do anything stupid though. i don’t want to see anyone’s anymore.”

(the amount of times he walked in while jimin and taeyung are doing stuff is too much, and it's enough to scar him for the next twenty-five years.)

“does that mean you don’t like looking at your ?”

“can we not talk about that here. in the hallway.” he deadpans. he’s not having any of this talk right now. “i’m in a hurry.”

taehyung’s mouth forms an ‘o’ shape before he grins. “you started it! but see you later!” he motions for jungkook to do their signature bro fist. jungkook rolls his eyes but he complies anyway, biting down a smile.

he watches taehyung vanish from his line of sight before he enters the faculty office. he bows to the professors and teacher assistants having the daily coffee overdose before he stops at a familiar cubicle that is isolated in the corner of the room. he peaks carefully inside and sees a familiar mop of grey hair.

“hi, hyung.” he greets sheepishly before he enters, making himself comfortable in the chair in front of the desk.

the man, min yoongi gives him a judging look. “look, if you’re here because you need extra credit to save your then you can leave. there’s nothing i can do to convince mrs. park about this, i’m just an assistant after all.”

what a heartbreaking news. “you won’t even do it for me, your super cute little cousin?”

“no. i always tell you to study but you’re not even doing anything about it. do you expect to pass this class without doing anything?”

“hyung, i’m an artist. not a business man, of course i don’t care about this business subject.”

“you’re required to take it though. and you still don’t care about this after you took it twice?” he sighs. “just pass the final test and you’ll probably make it. it's literally the same ing test that you took twice. how you even manage to fail it is beyond me already.”

jungkook wants to protest because he was sure he’ll fail the exam (again) but he knows better than to complain in front of the great min yoongi. “fine, can you at least tutor me?”

“what about jimin?”

“he’s occupied most of the time.”

“i’m busy too.”

“please?”

yoongi clicks his tongue and considers it for a moment. “i know this guy who should be able to help you with this. i’ll ask him if he can help you, he owes me something big anyway.”

jungkook frowns but he doesn’t say anything. he watches yoongi type something on his phone. “but you’ll need to meet him outside the campus.”

“what? are you setting me up with a serial killer?”

“the is wrong with you? if i could, i would have done that years ago. you’re a pain in the .”

“you’re very supportive and lovable.”

yoongi rolls his eyes “I know,” he says, “he’s not a student, he’s business man so he should know this .”

jungkook groans. “you’re setting me up to an old, fat, wrinkled guy?”

the older male looks up from his phone and if looks can kill, jungkook will be burned to ashes by now. “he’s going to share his wisdom to you to put some sense to your brain. you’re not going to each other.”

he shrugs. “i was just saying.”

“he’s not old or , whatever kind of stereotype businessman bull you have in your poor excuse of a brain.”

“i was just sayi—“

“shut up.”

he closes his mouth. well, this feels awfully familiar.

“oh.” yoongi’s eyes widened as he types another message to his phone. “he said he’s willing to help your , eight in the morning tomorrow.”

“that’s too early—“

“it’s settled now. get out of my office, i have better things to do.”

-x-

he was already in the hallway on his way to his next class when he receives a call from seokjin. he answers it in a heartbeat and almost slaps himself because that makes him desperate. god. what would seokjin think of him now.

play it cool, jeon. you got this.

“h-hi, hyung.” he stutters. great.

“ah, jungkook! are you available tomorrow morning? i need you to watch namjoon for me, there was an emergency and i won’t be home.”

jungkook stops walking in the middle of the hallway. literally right in the middle and he can feel the murderous glares to his direction from the students rushing to their next classes.

he doesn’t move.

well, he needs to meet the tutor tomorrow morning and he has two choices. ditch the tutor for seokjin or tell yoongi that he has a stomachache so he has a reason not to meet the guy. honestly, the answer should be obvious.

“i… no, i need to be somewhere.”

“oh.” seokjin sounds like a rejected puppy. “i see. thanks! i’ll see if taehyung can make time. you’ll still be here tomorrow afternoon, right?”

“yeah.”

“alright, thanks!”

and the other line goes dead.

somewhere in the back of his mind, his gears are shifting into places. there are bells ringing as if they’re trying so hard for jungkook to pay attention for once. it’s as if his mind is finally working but he ignores it for now. he’s too tired to bother. 
 

as he slides his phone in his pocket, he hears a familiar cracking sound and the unmistakable sound of his phone dropping on the cold hard floor and he feels his blood go cold. okay , he forgot that his pants have fake pockets. the fake pockets. never again.

he takes his dying phone to his hands and looks at it like his newborn child. although the screen was cracked already in the first place, it looked…worse now. if his cracked screen could get any worse. he opens the phone and his lock screen lights up. thank ing god it’s still working. phew. he can deal with this.

(although he really couldn’t afford to have it repaired.)

-x-

he makes it to seokjin’s place two hours than usual. he meets hoseok in the elevator and asks him again if there are job openings because it does look like his main job is just to operate the elevator. that job sounds good and he could deal with the crappy elevator music eight hours a day.

he reaches seokjin’s floor (he starts to call it seokjin’s floor now, it’s not like there are other people in it and it looks like hoseok didn’t mind either) and rings the doorbell. seokjin opens it and his eyes widened when he saw who it was.

“you’re early,” he says.

and oh my god seokjin is wearing nothing but a ing bathrobe and jungkook isn’t sure if he went here in a good timing or what, but it doesn’t really matter at this point. the only thing that matters is seokjin’s wet hair and his collarbones.

“jungkook? you’re staring.”

the world can end now. jungkook thought, he feels absolutely embarrassed that he kind of want to vanish in thin air.

“i was? oh god, i didn’t mean to i was just just…” jungkook can feel his palms getting sweaty. “you know, so much stuff is happening—”

seokjin stares at him. hard and judging. “well, come in.” he steps to the side to let jungkook in.

the younger boy removes his shoes as slowly as possible. he even acts like he forgot how to untie a ing shoelace because he just wants seokjin to go back to whatever he was doing before he came and embarrassed himself. he let out a sigh of relief when seokjin excused himself to get changed.

he places his shoes on the shoe rack and walks to the living room.

he doesn’t even know how long he was standing there looking like a complete idiot until seokjin returns, now fully clothed (much to jungkook’s disappointment but he tries not to let it show in his face). “you’re early.” he repeats. “namjoon is still taking his nap.”

“yeah, sorry. my class ended early and i don’t really see the point of going back to my dorm.”

seokjin laughs. “alright, did you eat already? i can cook something really quick for you.”

“no i’m okay, i’m not hungry—“ his stomach makes an angry sound. ing traitor. “yeah, maybe i am.”

seokjin laughs louder and tells jungkook to follow him to the kitchen between his breathless laughs.

there was a bowl of delicious looking ramyum in front of him within few minutes. with eggs, meat, and vegetables. it looks so appetizing and this is probably the best looking ramyum he saw in his whole life.

seokjin takes a seat across him. “i’m sorry, that’s the quickest food i can make.”

“this is more than okay.” jungkook assures him and starts to eat it. holy , it tastes good.

“so…” seokjin clears his throat and jungkook looks up from the bowl of heaven. “are you alright? you look out of it today.”

“yeah i’m fine it’s just…” jungkook frowns. he needs to vent it out or else he’ll die alone in the dark. besides, seokjin is the best person to hear his endless frustrations. jimin will just laugh his off and tell him i told you so because he’s a ing like that.

“i don’t think i’m cut for an academic life, maybe i should just, like, drop school and get a sugar daddy or something.” the last part was supposed to be a joke and he regrets saying it out loud. he realized how stupid that was.

yeah. he tries to convince himself that it’s not like seokjin will take it seriously as he shoves more noodles and meat to his mouth.

you’re a ing idiot. the voice in the back of his mind tells him.

“i can help you with that.”

jungkook chokes on the noodles, panics, and ends up spilling the bowl of noodles to his crotch (read: bowl of hot ramyum).

he doesn’t remember anything else other than seokjin’s wide eyes and the burning pain on his crotch that he swears he probably won’t be able to impregnate anyone anymore.

seokjin lets him borrow taehyung’s sweatpants. he's currently sitting on taehyung’s bed with seokjin offering him an ice pack.

“does it still burn? i’m so sorry. did you check if it's… alright? i mean, you didn’t get any serious burn right? like a third degree burn or—“

“oh my god, it’s fine. i’ll live.”

he hears namjoon crawling up the bed (he woke up because of jungkook’s horrifying screams of pain) and is now examining jungkook. “did uncle kookie hurt his ?”

seokjin lets out a horrified gasp. “joonie!”

and jungkook stares at namjoon with wide eyes for an entirely different reason. uncle kookie?? jungkook’s mind is literally just ‘!!!!’ and ‘????’ and ‘!!??!’ all at the same time. he completely ignored the fact that a six years old kid just asked him if he did hurt his .

“joonie, that was rude. go back to your room!” the older male scolds the child.

“but papa—“

“no. go back to your room.”

there were ten more sets of protest from namjoon but he leaves anyway, hopefully walking back to his room.

“jungkook, i’m so sorry.”

“no hyung, i… sorry. i was just kidding about… you know, the sugar daddy.” he shrugs in an attempt to act cool despite his self-confidence now buried six feet on the ground.

“i figured. i was just kidding too.”

“oh.” he was lowkey disappointed.

wait.

what the ?

(although he’ll admit that it’s really tempting. he gets money and he gets to tap seokjin’s at the same time. who doesn’t want that?

definitely not him. nope. no. oh my god. no. think about what namjoon will think if he finds out that his dad is ing his babysitter and calls him daddy too. holy .

jimin. this is his fault. and taehyung too.)

jungkook is silently thanking whoever is up there that his crotch got burned because he’s literally incapable of getting a ing due to the pain. thank you.

“anyway, do you want to go home? i can drive you back and then you can return the pants tomorrow.”

jungkook shakes his head, avoiding seokjin’s stare. “i’ll stay, you have work and i kind of don’t want to go back right now while taehyung’s there with jimin. i’ve had enough talks to last me a lifetime.”

seokjin gave him a scandalized look. “what?”

“nothing.”

“i’ll call in sick, i doubt i’m needed in the restaurant today. and besides, i can’t leave you while you’re in that state.”

this time, jungkook turns to look at seokjin. “hyung, you don’t have to—“

“it’s final. make yourself comfortable here. i’m sure taehyung wouldn’t mind if you borrow his room today, right? i’ll bring namjoon here and maybe we can watch some movies.” he smiles. “will that make you feel better?”

jungkook swallows a lump in his throat that prevents him from making any intelligent response. he nods his head and seokjin took that as a cue to get namjoon from his room.

with the power of an unknown miracle, he didn't embarrass himself any longer. namjoon played with his hair while they watch some kids’ movie.

(“i can’t braid your hair,” namjoon says.

“of course you can’t. my hair is too short.”

namjoon groans and places what it feels like a butterfly clip to hold jungkook’s fringe up.

“will you let it grow? so i can braid it after ten years.”

“what?”)

it was alright but the warmth on the other side of the bed as seokjin lies next to him made things better.

well, jungkook is completely ed.

and here’s a list of reasons why jungkook thinks he’s ed:

1. he’s failing his class;
2. kim seokjin;
3. kim ing seokjin is out of his league;
4. he’s a goner for a person called kim seokjin and he wants to die.

(he also forgot that he has an essay due tomorrow. he’s totally ed but he’ll live.)

his phone rings during the ending credit, he looks over at seokjin who is peacefully sleeping with namjoon curled next to him. it looks so domestic that his stomach made this thing that felt like someone punched him.

(jungkook just started his babysitting duty two weeks ago but somewhere deep in his stomach, he can feel butterflies and all those bulls that he hears from jimin about falling in love. and it’s scary because seokjin is a father of a child. a man with a responsibility.

is seokjin even interested in men?)

he unlocks his phone and sees a message from yoongi.

[ from: lamb skewer

to: jeon jungkook

the tutor said he won’t be available tomorrow morning because he couldn't find anyone to watch his child. let’s move the date. ]