The floorboards creak worryingly loudly under Jungkook’s feet as he shuffles into the kitchen. Blinking sleep from his eyes, he fumbles absent-mindedly through the cupboards till he finds a semi-clean mug and a jar of instant coffee. He takes two teaspoons of the coffee, three of sugar, and waits for the kettle to boil.

The sound of a car racing down the road reverberates through the flat, the building shakes as it passes. This place is entirely too poorly put together for comfort.

Jungkook pulls the fridge door open in a rush to grab the milk, and almost misses the post-it clinging helplessly to the grubby white front. It flutters off as the door swings closed, but he catches it before it falls to the floor. He doesn’t need to look very hard to recognise Namjoon’s untidy scrawl.

Will be out late tonight. Taehyung needs a place to crash – take care of him please

Jungkook blinks down at the unassuming piece of pink paper, sets the milk down on the side rather carefully, and runs a hand through his tousled, black hair. Namjoon's brother is staying over, that’s always…difficult.

For a full five minutes, Jungkook considers texting Namjoon, telling him that no one will be here in the evening and so Taehyung can’t stay over. It’s a bare faced lie, but it seems kinder than having to subjugate his flatmate’s brother to what will most likely be a night of awkward small talk and badly cooked pasta.

He doesn’t mean to be rude, but Jungkook’s cagey with Namjoon’s friends at the best of times, and Taehyung’s particular brand of in-your-face physical intimacy is hard to get used to.

From his bedroom, his phone chimes to let him know he’s received a text. Jungkook throws a dash of milk into his coffee, puts the bottle back in the fridge, and tries not to spill any of the scalding liquid on himself as he walks back down the corridor to see who’s trying to get in contact with him at this godforsaken hour.

Jungkook finds his phone lying on the bedside table where he left it. The screen flashes up and the numbers across the top inform him that it’s after one in the afternoon. So much for a godforsaken hour. He swipes the device open and pulls up his messages, where no less than three texts from Namjoon are waiting for him.

Just in case you didn’t see the post it, Taehyung’s crashing here tonight

There’s money on the table you guys could order pizza

Try to actually talk to him like a human being this time

Grimacing, Jungkook clicks back to his home screen and opens up Kakao. He goes straight to his never ending group chat with Jimin and Hoseok, flicking through the missed messages from the previous night. He types out a hasty explanation of his current situation and hopes it doesn’t sound too much like a desperate plea for help: Taehyung’s coming over tonight

Oooooooo you gonna make a move? Jimin replies almost instantly

Hoseok follows a moment later: He better, or I’m going to take matters into my own hands

Groaning internally, Jungkook takes a slurp of coffee and starts mentally running through what he wants to be wearing when Taehyung arrives. Sure, the living room’s a mess and the toilet hasn’t been scrubbed in months, but he figures these extraneous details need not hold him back from what’s really important.

 

Taehyung is liberal with his affections, dolling out overexcited grins and casual hugs with the sort of wild abandon that Jungkook would find vulgar coming from just about anyone else. All the same, when the older boy’s head is resting neatly on his shoulder as they sprawl across the sofa Namjoon crammed into the kitchen in an attempt ‘to make it more homely’, it’s hard not to feel the odd butterfly spinning cartwheels round his stomach.

It doesn’t mean anything, he tells himself, sternly. Taehyung’s like this with everyone, there’s no use getting worked up about it.

“I wish you guys still had a TV,” Taehyung grumbles, “how do you guys entertain yourselves?”

Jungkook shrugs his free shoulder in a patiently calculated display of indifference, “video games mostly. And you can thank your brother for the missing TV.”

“Yeah he told me about that,” Taehyung giggles. He sounds entirely too tickled by the mental image of Namjoon putting his foot through the screen of their old TV. “Video games sound good though.”

They wind up playing Halo until about three hours after Jungkook’s normal self-imposed bed time. It’s nice, in a ‘stay up late laughing with your crush’ sort of way, but it takes quite a lot of squeezing to get the two of them sat comfortably around the rather small gaming computer that, under normal circumstances, Jungkook doesn’t let anyone else touch.

Taehyung leans forward to take a slurp from the preposterously huge glass of water he’s sipping from. Jungkook resists the urge to reach out and steady the glass when he puts it back down in case of the entire thing upended over his keyboard.

“I’m tired.” Taehyung yawns.

Jungkook hums in agreement, switching to the save screen automatically. “I’ll put the extra duvet on the sofa.”

“Can’t I just share with you?” Taehyung asks, as if this should be the easiest thing in the world.

For a moment, Jungkook debates telling him no, just to spare himself the pressure of having to pretend that the other side of the bed is empty for the next few hours. But the little voice in the back of his mind telling him that Taehyung probably likes to cuddle, and cuddling can lead just about anywhere, shouts loud, and he gives in.

“You better not snore,” he grumbles, as Taehyung throws an arm over him, casual as anything.

 

Cuddles can lead anywhere, that doesn’t mean they always do. After a patchy night’s sleep spent trying to calm his racing pulse long enough to nod off, Jungkook’s eyes finally fly open just after seven and the combined temperature of both his and Taehyung’s bodyheat is too much for him.

He has to get up. Now.

Extracting himself carefully from the mess of limbs that have become entwined around him during the night, Jungkook hobbles over to his bedroom door. He opens it as quietly as possible and steps out into the hallway.

The floor squeaks beneath his feet. . So much for silence.

“You up, Kookie?” Namjoon’s voice hollers from the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Jungkook replies around a yawn. He makes his way to the end of the corridor and when he sticks his head round the kitchen door Namjoon is making the most spectacular mess of the table as he crunches his way through a slice of toast.

Namjoon looks up when Jungkook comes in, grinning, “You guys have a good night?”

Jungkook shrugs, “yeah it was fine.”

“Stayed up pretty late by the looks of things.”

“We were on the computer.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows raise not inconsiderably, “the computer, you say? I thought you were the only one who was allowed to touch it.”

“Nah, that’s just what I tell you to make sure you keep your hands off it,” Jungkook winks at Namjoon like he’s joking, but in the fifteen years they’ve known each other he’s watched the older boy break no fewer than eight laptops, and he’s not about to let his precious gaming computer meet the same end.

Jungkook drops into the seat opposite Namjoon’s and the two of them slip into an easy routine of exchanging information about their days and weeks. Namjoon’s enjoying work but finding the time commitment is wearing him out, after three years of University spent showing up to class in drips and drabs. Jungkook’s liking his second year of a sports science degree, though they both know he likes hanging out with his friends more than anything else.

“Hey,” Namjoon stops him, half way through describing a particularly funny incident at the union bar two nights ago, “I need to talk to you about something.”

He sounds serious, which isn’t unusual in and of itself but there’s an edge to Namjoon’s voice that makes Jungkook sit up a little straighter than normal. His brain immediately runs through the list of terrible possibilities that Namjoon might be about to unfold on him, everything from I got fired to I’m moving out to, god forbid, I went to the doctor’s the other day and…

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Taehyung’s been crashing here quite a bit this past month. Long story short, that Baekhyun kid he’s been living with trashed their apartment and the landlord wants them out. He’s been more or less homeless, but his stuff’s still all there.”

Jungkook lets out a breath in relief, “that’s it?”

Namjoon frowns, “this is my brother we’re talking about here, it’s kind of a big deal.”

“Sorry,” Jungkook mutters, “just…could have been worse.”

“Anyway, point is, he needs somewhere to stay till he can find a new place,” Namjoon continues, “and if you don’t mind, I was gonna say he could crash here.”

“Yes!” Jungkook says, a little too loudly and a little too quickly, “yeah, that would be fine. We’ve got space.”

Namjoon opes his mouth to continue, but Taehyung choses that moment to emerge from the depths of Jungkook’s bedroom and come barging into the kitchen, grinning wide at both of them and pulling Namjoon into a mighty hug.

“You didn’t tell me you were in trouble,” Jungkook mutters, five minutes later when they’re shoulder to shoulder making coffee and Namjoon can’t hear him.

Taehyung offers him a sheepish smile by way of apology, “I didn’t want you to worry.”

“You can share my bed, if you like,” Jungkook says, as casually as he can manage.

Taehyung squeezes his shoulder and says something to Namjoon about how he’s so excited to be moving in.

“You’re not moving in, you’re just staying for a while,” Namjoon grumbles.

Jungkook thinks he wouldn’t mind either way.

 

Jimin drops onto the edge of Jungkook’s bed with his eyes curved into two half-moons of happiness, “so, when does he arrive?”

“Any minute now,” Jungkook replies. He’s somewhat regretting his decision to ask Jimin and Hoseok to come over and help Taehyung move his stuff up from the van, the looks of glee on their faces when he’d opened the door to greet them had been dangerous to say the least.

“Don’t worry, we promise not to ruin your date,” Hoseok says, clapping Jungkook on the shoulder, “much.”

Jungkook groans and brings a hand up to his forehead to rub away the headache he’s sure is going to start building any moment. This was definitely a bad idea, and seeing as Namjoon persuaded Seokjin to help out with Taehyung’s stuff, it’s not even necessary for Jimin and Hoseok to be here. He should send them home now, while he still has a chance.

The doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it!” Seokjin sing-songs from the hallway. Normally, Jungkook objects to people coming into his home and acting like they own the place, but Seokjin does such a good impression of a clucking mother hen that it’s difficult to argue with him.

They hear the sound of the door opening and then Taehyung’s deep bass rumble as he says hi to Seokjin and informs him that there isn’t that much to bring up after all.

Before he can stop them, Jimin and Hoseok have sidestepped him and rushed out to join Seokjin and Taehyung, and by the time he’s caught up with them everyone’s shaking hands and swapping names.

“He seems nice,” Hoseok hisses, nudging Jungkook in the side as they bring up the rear of the party heading downstairs. Jungkook rolls his eyes and purses his lips, he does not want to do this right now.

 

There really isn’t much stuff to bring up at all, and in the end it takes just one trip from the street to the flat for all of Taehyung’s stuff to be dumped in the living room. Realistically, it should have taken them two trips, but Jungkook is nothing if not competitive, and couldn’t resist the opportunity to out lift Jimin.

“He’s really strong, right?” Jimin says to Taehyung, dumping the three boxes he’s carrying on the floor and nodding in Jungkook’s direction.

Jungkook tries not to crumble with the force of the butterflies in his belly when Taehyung meets his eyes and wiggles his eyebrows enthusiastically in response. He doesn’t miss the self-satisfied smirks that Hoseok and Jimin share either.

“When are you guys off?” Jungkook asks from between gritted teeth.

Hoseok assumes an expression of calculated innocence and collapses onto the sofa, “we have no plans. We can stay till whenever.”

Unfortunately, Taehyung seems to think this is a great idea. He drags Jimin into a half hug and blabbers about how he’d love to get to know the pair of them better.

“Great!” Hoseok smiles, “we should do something.”

“Like what?” Jungkook asks.

Once again, Jimin and Hoseok share decidedly evil looking eye contact that leaves them both smiling like the cat that got the cream, “hey Seokjin!” Hoseok calls, and footsteps can be heard from outside.

“What happened?” Seokjin marches into the living room lookin worried, like he suspects someone may have broken something.

“Where was that ice cream place we went that one time? Where Yoongi works?”

Seokjin’s eyes flash with excitement, “I’ll show you.”

 

Yoongi is someone Jungkook knows by name but not in person. He’s tightly woven into Namjoon’s circle of friends, but his reputation as a disagreeable grump precedes him.

Safe to say, when Jungkook sees the small man standing behind the counter at the ice cream parlour (that Seokjin has firmly assured him has the best ice cream in the city, and he would know), smiling happily at the customer ahead of them in the cue, he’s a little surprised. The man seems entirely too lighthearted of disposition to be the sulky little aspiring producer Namjoon likes to complain about over dinner.

“Hey Yoongi,” Jimin crows when the customer moves on. The spell is broken immediately.

“Thank you guys are here,” Yoongi snarls, his smile immediately slipping, “I’ve been here six hours and I want to kill everyone.”

“Nice to see you too,” Seokjin says, as brightly as if Yoongi hadn’t just confessed his intention to commit homicide. “We’d like three chocolate cones and a raspberry ripple tub.”

They watch Yoongi dole out their ice cream, grumbling moodily under his breath the entire time. Jungkook can’t understand it, he thinks working around so much ice cream would be a dream come true, but when he voices this opinion, both Seokjin and Hoseok inform him that no one who had ever had to work around food would say that.

They take their ice cream to the last free table at the front of the shop. Jungkook sits right up against the window, and watched the people rushing past outside. Business folk in suits, kids moving in shoals, construction workers still in their hardhats. It’s lunch time, and even though it’s a weekday the city is buzzing around them.

Taehyung jabs a finger at the window, in the direction of a man hunched over and hiding in a hoodie, “he’s an international spy on his way to meet his contact from the Russian secret service.”

“Right,” Jungkook stares at Taehyung for a beat too long, unsure if he’s being serious, “is…is that good? For us, I mean?”

“I never said he was on our side,” Taehyung hisses, light dancing in his over wide eyes.

Jungkook can't help the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he his way up his chocolate cone. He also can't help the way his eyes are glued to Taehyung's tongue as he mirrors the movement, and he knows he's screwed.

 

Seokjin gets a call from his mother and has to rush off, and Hoseok and Jimin are headed on to the centre of town. So it’s just Taehyung and Jungkook walking back to the flat together. Jungkook starts to worry five minutes down the road that they should have gone and done something more, it’s hours until Namjoon will be home and lord knows there’s not much to do to keep Taehyung company at home.

“We should play more video games!” Taehyung shouts out of nowhere, like he’s read Jungkook’s mind. “You had some old Star Wars games, right?”

“Knights Of The Old Republic?” Jungkook laughs at Taehyung’s enthusiasm, “god it’s been years since I last played those.”

“You don’t mind, then?”

“Playing video games with you? Of course not!”

“No, I mean,” Taehyung stops dead in the middle of the pavement and fixes Jungkook with a careful stare, “you don’t mind me living in your house, taking up your time…? I know you have uni stuff going on, I can sort myself out-“

“It’s fine,” Jungkook says, “I…I really like hanging out with you.”

He can see the moment the light goes on in Taehyung’s head. Maybe Jimin or Hoseok actually managed to tell him something, maybe he’s especially perceptive, maybe Jungkook’s just really ing obvious.

Whatever it is, he knows that the hand Taehyung slips into his as they move on is not ambiguous, “I really like hanging out with you too.”

The butterflies in Jungkook stomach are going wild and he’s sure his hand is already growing clammy with excitement, but when he opens his mouth to speak his voice doesn’t betray him, “Namjoon’s not gonna like this.”

Grinning impishly, Taehyung leans in and plants a kiss on Jungkook’s cheek. Quick, and playful in intent, though the imprint of his lips burns hot on Jungkook’s skin, “Namjoon can it.”