okay I really have a feeling that this is slowly becoming my taekook oneshot collection, rather than it being bangtan, really

It was one of those mornings where it was just a little too nice under the warmth of the blanket to get out of bed on time. The black-haired, young man flinched as his feet touched the cold linoleum covered floor of his dorm room at Busan Arts College.

Jungkook stumbled into the bathroom, his hair sticking out in every possible direction, and, looking in the mirror, he tried to tame it. He gave up just a second later, though, because he considered it impossible. With a loud sigh, he dropped his hands to his sides, taking a second, he actually didn't have, to wake up. He lightly slapped his cheeks and blinked a bunch of times, but it was no help. There wasn't anything Jungkook wished more than to just dive back into the comfort of his bed.

As he was done getting ready, he returned to his room, grabbed random items of clothing and slipped into them. His mess of hair was soon covered by a bright red beanie, and before he exited through the door, he slung his worn-out backpack over his shoulder.

“Jeon Jungkook, you're late,” his professor remarks when he entered the the small studio about 15 minutes into the class. A reproachful, little smile stretched on his lips and he scratched the back of his head. “I know. I'm sorry.” Looking up, he saw the professor's eyes on him, and was glad to find sympathy in them. “It's alright. Don't let it become a habit, though.”

Jungkook nodded in silent response, and shuffled through the set up easels over to where he usually sat. He sank onto the stool behind the easel, turning his attention onto the man talking at the head of the room.

“Have you ever heard the saying 'Beauty is in the eye of the beholder?',” the man asked walking up to an old-school chalkboard, and scribbled the word 'beauty' in capital letters onto it. “What do you think it means?”

Jungkook eyes the white letters for a while. He had to admit that he never gave much thought to what he considered beautiful. Society had its standards when it came to beauty – a nice body, big eyes, a sharp jawline – but, thinking about it, Jungkook didn't know what his standards were – or whether he had some.

“Yes, Mr. Kim?,” the voice pulled Jungkook away from his thoughts. For some reason, the atmosphere in the room changed. Only now did he notice that everyone's attention was fixed to a certain person across from him.

It was a male only merely older than him, but from his position, Jungkook couldn't tell if he was taller than him or not. His hair was of a rich brown color and he had the sharpest, most handsome facial features Jungkook had ever seen. As that person began to speak, Jungkook was simply mesmerized.

“Beauty isn't a standard,” the deep, melodic voice started to explain. “Every single person has their own preferences – black or white, brunette or blonde, tall or short, male or female. Memories add to the perception on beauty as well. You can meet a person you consider good-looking, and they may be, but, get to know them, and you can learn that they may be breathtaking on the outside, but rotten and ugly on the inside. Or maybe you meet someone you don't find attractive at first, but spend time with them – they can become the most beautiful person you have ever met. There simply can't be just one definition of 'beauty', when there are over 7 billion people on this planet.”

The man's speech was followed by silence, interrupted only by their professor, who clapped his hands together. He had a bright smile on his face and kept on nodding. “Yes, that's right Mr. Kim! Thank you for that great contribution.” The professor turned to face the whole class again, and only now Jungkook noticed, that he was still staring at the new student, his mouth agape.

“Today, I want you all to think of something you, personally, find beautiful and draw it. It could be anything. An animal, a scenery, a person - it doesn't matter, as long as you consider it beautiful. You may start now and you have until the end of today to finish this project.”

Soon, the class was filled with the noises of people rummaging through their art supplies and soft chatting among the students. Jungkook still sat motionlessly in his seat, his eyes fixed onto the male across from him. It wasn't until the girl sitting next to him, Park Ara who he considered a friend, tapped his shoulder.

“Hey, Jeon, can I have one of your mixing stabs? Mine are all gone...,” she asked, and an amused grunt escaped Jungkook's pursed lips. “By 'gone', do you mean you still didn't get any?” he suggested with a grin, and caught himself a jab of her elbow in between his ribs. “And you call yourself a friend, huh?,” she sulked. Jungkook rolled his eyes, but grabbed one of the stabs in his backpack. “Alright, Ara. A mixing stab for some information,” he whispered and fanned the plastic object in her direction.

Ara's eyes narrowed into slits and she nodded curtly. “Deal. What do you want to know?” Jungkook let his gaze wander through the room, ultimately fixing it onto the new student, who seemed to be emerged in his work already. “Who's he?”

Ara followed his gaze, and she started giggling. “That's what you get for coming late,” she cackled. “I won't tell you.” “No stab for you the-” “Alright, alright! Blackmailing me like this....unbelievable,” she muttered, snapping the art supply from Jungkook's grip. Jungkook smiled to himself with satisfaction. He always knew which leavers to pull in order to get what he wanted from his friend. As she began her explanation, Jungkook was all eyes for the new student again.

“His name is Kim Taehyung and he just transferred from Daegu. He said something about his mother opening a cafe or something,” Ara drifted off. “Anywho, he's 22 and, according to the prof, he must be some kind of wunderkind. I don't know. Taehyung is very handsome and charming and all but...If you ask me, there's something fishy about it. He gets along with everyone quite well, too well for him to be....oh, no!”

The sudden force of Ara's hand and the abrupt stop of her blabbering snapped Jungkook's gaze off of Kim Taehyung, who must have been the most handsome person on this planet, and on to his friend.

“No, no, no. Jungkook, no! Please, don't do this to me! He can't be...he can't be gay!” she whispered urgently. Blood instantly rushed into Jungkook's eyes, coloring them a shade of dark red. It hadn't been long since he had came out to his friend as gay, and he wasn't used to her speaking so openly about it. It was still weird. “W-what?” he stuttered, clearing his throat. “He's not...he can't be...I mean...” His voice trailed off as a melodic laughter sparked his interest. It was him. It was Kim Taehyung.

Unexpectedly, Jungkook met his eyes across the room. The eye contact only held a second, if at all, but it struck a spark somewhere deep inside his guts, and it felt more intimate than any touch. Even more unexpected, it was Taehyung, whose eyes quickly broke away. Was he...embarrassed, per chance?

“T