Chapter Text
They’ve earned this trip. They have thoroughly, indisputably earned this trip. Eighteen months of enlistment are finally over, they’ve survived it, and the fall semester of university won’t start for another month. Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook are ready for some more than deserved time of relaxation and sun.
Taehyung talks about it the whole way to the beach, all the things he wants to do and places he wants to see. Jimin counters each new plan with his own suggestion: eight straight days of food and naps.
Jungkook can’t decide which of them he agrees with more. He kind of wants to pass out for about a decade, after so many early and rigorous mornings, but he also isn’t entirely sure he knows how to sleep later than six anymore.
They’ve been planning this trip since Jungkook’s high school graduation, Taehyung and Jimin having deferred their enlistment to wait for him to catch up. They’d needed something to look forward to once the hard part was over, and they’d all scrimped and saved every penny they could.
It isn’t much. They’d all saved a few birthday gifts and pleaded wide-eyed and pitifully with their parents, as well, like they aren’t all grown men now, and that had helped a little more.
And, if Jungkook is honest with himself, sharing a cheap, cramped hotel room with two double beds is a downright luxury compared to where he’s been sleeping. In the hotel room, the only roommates are his two best friends, and they’re going to take turns sharing so they all get a chance to stretch out.
He has no complaints, even if their view is of the brick wall of the next building over and the air conditioning is ungodly loud.
“This is perfect,” Jimin sobs, the left bed squeaking noisily as he starfishes himself across it. “Wake me when it’s time to go home.”
He closes his eyes and does an excellent imitation of a sleeping man. Possibly not an imitation at all. Taehyung and Jungkook share raised eyebrow smirks as they each go to unpack their bags.
The first night is simple, standard vacation shit. Dinner eaten with their hands walking through the coastal city, taking notes on all the places they want to go and things they want to do. Even Jimin is in on it, perked up by the promise of alcohol and a beach chair with an umbrella.
It’s going to be perfect. Jungkook knows this, even now, on their very first night. Even if they never do anything but laze about, it’s going to be the best week of his life.
He has no idea just how right he is.
_____
They unpack all their stuff onto the sand early the next morning, before the lifeguards are even out, determined to stake out a comfortable amount of space before anyone else shows up. Jungkook’s going to university on a swimmer’s scholarship, so he heads right for the water, lifeguard be damned.
“Come get your sunscreen!” Taehyung yells after him. Jungkook waves him off. He knows it’s important, and he’ll be back when the sun gets a little higher, but right now he needs to be in the water.
It’s not like he hasn’t swum at all in the last eighteen months, but swimming in high school had been freedom. There’s a peace to the water, even as his lungs burn for air and the waves crash around him. The ocean, a lake, a pool. Jungkook has never cared, as long as he gets to swim.
But that enjoyment had been out of reach during enlistment. With his free time limited, swimming had become just another way to blow off steam at the end of a long week, taking the edge off so he could get up and do it all over again.
Now, there’s nothing holding him back. Nothing he needs to return to. Just Jungkook and the water.
By the time he’s had his fill (and, more importantly, can feel the tell-tale heat under his skin that means Taehyung was right and he’d better go get some SPF on), the lifeguards are out. They’re set up pretty close to the lifeguard stand, since neither of his friends are as willing to throw themselves to the mercy of the sea, and Jungkook absently takes note of the two men standing at the base of the lifeguard stand, chatting pleasantly as they—
As the one on the right, the one with the broad shoulders and the bleached hair shucks his joggers, leaving himself in nothing but a red speedo, exposing miles and miles of tanned skin and Jungkook—
Jungkook is so fucking gay, oh god.
It’s the muscles. Specifically, the thighs. Oh god, the thighs. All of the lifeguard had seemed pretty buff when Jungkook had initially noticed him, but his legs. He could probably crush a watermelon between his knees without much effort. He glances up, catches Jungkook’s eye, and gives him a friendly grin and a wave and oh no he has dimples, too.
Jungkook is pretty sure he manages to nod and wave back. He hopes he does, anyway. He’s going to make things unnecessarily hard on himself if his future husband’s first impression of him is some sort of sociopath, and he’s not one hundred percent confident his face isn’t doing anything weird.
He’d meant to dry off properly, but when he gets to his friends he instead flops face down onto his towel with a groan.
“You good?” Jimin asks, leaning over the arm of his lounge chair to look at him. Taehyung, meanwhile, plops himself down on Jungkook’s ass so he can’t get up and starts aggressively covering him with sunscreen.
“You’re going to get melanoma,” he complains, squirting the lotion directly onto Jungkook’s shoulder blades. Jungkook doesn’t care about skin cancer. He cares about exactly one thing, right now, and he mumbles that into his towel.
“What was that?” Jimin asks. Jungkook raises his head as far as he can with Taehyung rubbing at his shoulders.
“Thighs,” he says, still a little bit dazed.
Jimin and Taehyung exchange looks.
“…What?” Jimin finally asks.
“And dimples,” Jungkook moans, collapsing back onto the towel. Life, as he knows it, is officially over. There is no coming back from this, because he needs to kiss those dimples. He’ll die if he doesn’t.
There’s an awkward pause before Taehyung seems to put something together. “Is this about the lifeguard?”
“We’ll have a fall wedding and two kids,” Jungkook explains. “We’ll celebrate our fiftieth wedding anniversary surrounded by grandchildren and die together in our sleep when we’re ninety-eight.”
Another pause. Jungkook allows his friends time to digest the information.
“Oh no,” Jimin finally says.
“He’s already locked in,” Taehyung agrees.
Jungkook huffs. So he knows what he wants and has no problem going after it. They don’t need to act like the world is ending.
“Jungkookie,” Jimin says tentatively. Jungkook braces himself for what he already knows is coming. “You know we’re only here for—”
“Eight full days,” Jungkook interrupts. “Don’t worry, hyung. That’s all I need.”
“…I’m worrying,” Taehyung says. Jungkook bucks his hips and rolls Taehyung off of him, into the sand.
“I’m going to go talk to him.”
Taehyung throws himself at Jungkook, knocking him to the ground. “Not without UV protection, you aren’t,” he growls.
Once Jungkook has been thoroughly, mortifyingly lotioned by Taehyung, he makes his move. The pair of lifeguards have climbed up into their tall chair, overlooking the water, and it puts Jungkook perfectly at eye-level with a pair of perfectly toned, tanned calves. He doesn’t immediately bite them, and he thinks he should be rewarded for his restraint.
He cranes his neck back to look up at the hot lifeguard, putting on his most charming smile. “Hey,” he says. “Come here often?”
Neither Hot Lifeguard nor his Almost-But-Not-Quite-As-Hot companion spares him a glance. “Sorry,” Hot Lifeguard says, without so much as a tilt of his head in Jungkook’s direction. “We’re busy.”
Right. Guarding lives, and all that. Jungkook gives a quick glance around, because he’s not an asshole, and thankfully the handful of other people who’ve come to the beach this early are safely in front of the next-closest lifeguard stands.
Which means Jungkook can push a tiny bit. Provided Jimin or Taehyung don’t decide to go make a mess of themselves.
“Right, of course,” Jungkook says, nodding along. “But you won’t be forever. You need protein for muscles like those.”
He thinks he sees Almost-But-Not-Quite-As-Hot’s heart-shaped lips quirk at the corners. Good. If Hot Lifeguard’s friends like Jungkook, he has an in.
“Yeah, Namjoon-ah, you need protein,” his friend teases. To Jungkook’s chagrin, what he thought would be an in turns out to be a hindrance. Hot Lifeguard—Namjoon—closes off with a scowl.
“I packed a sandwich,” Namjoon says stiffly. “And I’m busy, sir, as I said—”
“Jungkook,” Jungkook hastens to interject. This, unfortunately, is the wrong move.
“Jungkook-ssi, I am busy.”
Right, right, back up, regroup. Jungkook knows when he’s shooting himself in the foot, and he knows when to find a new tactic. He scurries back to his friends, kicking sand pointedly all over Taehyung’s clean towel.
“Shut up,” he says to their silent but smirking faces.
Okay, so regular flirting is off the table. That’s fine. Jungkook can appreciate a dedication to the job. It’s actually pretty hot—Namjoon probably literally saves people, like, all the time. It’s perfectly reasonable that he wouldn’t want to hold in-depth conversations while he’s busy ensuring no one drowns on his watch.
Jungkook will just have to make himself look thoughtful and appealing in the least distracting way possible. He can do that.
He waits about half an hour to make his move, giving Namjoon time to forget how irritated Jungkook and Almost-But-Not-Quite-As-Hot had made him. Namjoon’s as-yet-nameless friend slowly coaxes him back out of his funk, and Jungkook watches carefully over the top of his book until his moment comes.
Eventually, when Namjoon’s shoulders have relaxed and he’s smiling again, Jungkook strikes.
“I know you’re busy, but it’s really hot today, you should stay hydrated,” he says with a winning smile Namjoon refuses to see, setting a water bottle onto the edge of the chair.
“No thank you,” Namjoon says, staring out into the sea.
“Hydrate or die-drate, Joonie,” Almost-But-Not-Quite-As-Hot sings, grinning.
“Stop helping,” Namjoon mutters through gritted teeth.
His friend flashes him a winsome smile. “I’m just saying, you wouldn’t want to dry up in the heat, someone might have to carry you to shade—”
“Hoseok.”
Hoseok, now with a much more dignified name in Jungkook’s head, actually does spare a glance for Jungkook, a sympathetic what-can-you-do sort of look.
“I brought my own water,” Namjoon says, leaning forward onto his elbows to watch a family unpacking their bags nearby, the preschool-sized child edging curiously towards the water, watching his parents to see if he’ll be caught.
Jungkook knows when he’s pushed too far, and, more importantly, he does respect the Guarding Lives part of Namjoon’s job. If the kid makes a run for it, he doesn’t want to be the reason Namjoon doesn’t see it. It was fine when it was just Jungkook and his friends on this section of the beach, but now it would definitely be A Bad Look.
Trudging back to his friends, Jungkook settles down in Taehyung’s lap with a sigh. Taehyung squawks as the beach chair beneath him creaks ominously. “Get your own seat,” he yells, trying to shove Jungkook off of him.
“Mine’s not under the umbrella,” Jungkook says, resting his head on Taehyung’s and refusing to be moved. “Taetaaaeee-hyuuung,” he whines, like they’re kids again, “what do I dooo?”
“Get off my lap and over yourself?” Taehyung suggests helpfully.
“No thank you.”
“Maybe you should go for the other one,” Jimin suggests.
“Hoseok,” Jungkook offers helpfully.
Jimin tilts his sunglasses so he can squint over them at the lifeguard stand and the backs of Hoseok and Namjoon’s heads. “He seemed way more amused by you. Pretty cute, too.”
“Betray my future husband with one of his friends?” Jungkook gasps dramatically. “I would never.”
Jimin hums thoughtfully, eyes still on Hoseok. Jungkook hadn’t expected Jimin to be his greatest ally this vacation—he’d mostly expected Jimin to be asleep, honestly—but he can see the gears turning in Jimin’s eyes. He isn’t falling head-over-heels into forever like Jungkook is, but Jungkook knows what Jimin looks like when his interest has been piqued.
“You know,” Jimin says, and below Jungkook, Taehyung groans something that sounds like ‘not another scheme,’ “You shouldn’t distract the lifeguards. It’s their job to watch everyone on the beach.”
“I know, hyung,” Jungkook says, plastering on his patented pout he’d honed back in high school, “that’s the problem.”
Taehyung gapes at him. “That face should not still work, you’ve got like a hundred tattoos and biceps the size of a small child, how can you still turn the adorable on like that—”
“As I was saying,” Jimin says, rolling his eyes at the pair of them, “it’s their job to watch everyone on the beach. Meaning if we were to go, say, play Frisbee, somewhere in that general direction,” here, he pauses to wave towards the lifeguard stand, “he’d have to glance at you and your child-sized biceps every now and again, just to check in, and no one could say you were being disruptive or keeping him from doing his job.”
Jungkook beams. “I love you, hyung,” he says fiercely, scrambling up from Taehyung’s lap.
“Don’t let your new husband hear that,” Jimin teases.
It’s immediately easy to see what Jimin gets out of this, given that his preferred method of exercise has always been dance and sports of any kind have never been of any interest to him. Jungkook’s not sure he’s ever seen Jimin in the same vicinity as a Frisbee before.
But if Jimin’s standing awkwardly across from Jungkook, he gets to sneak peeks at Hoseok, who is admittedly very pretty and tanned, even if Namjoon outshines him.
Jimin keeps his shirt and his sun hat on, still a little sensitive about his military muscle and regulation haircut, but Taehyung and Jungkook are both in nothing but swim trunks, tossing the Frisbee back and forth, occasionally over poor Jimin’s head.
It’s fun, distractingly so. Jungkook almost forgets his goal, until he glances to the side by happenstance, flexing his biceps as he leaps for the Frisbee.
He tries his best not to stare, but is that… a little bit of a flush, across Namjoon’s cheeks and the bridge of his nose?
Judging by the nudge Hoseok gives him with his shoulder, Jungkook is vain enough to say yes. And to preen, just a little bit.
“He’s looking at me,” he murmurs when they take a break. “Look, he’s blushing!”
Taehyung looks, a bit more blatantly than Jungkook would like. “I think he’s probably just sunburned,” he says.
“I dunno,” Jimin says. “Every time I looked over there, he looked like he’d been watching.”
“And why were you looking, hmm?” Taehyung teases, grinning mischievously when Jimin’s own cheeks go red.
“Same reason Hoseok’s been looking at him, probably,” Jungkook says, throwing an arm around Jimin’s shoulders. “Wanna go swimming, hyung? Give them something else to look at?”
“I’m going to sit down,” Jimin growls, scowling at the both of them. “It’s a million degrees out here, Namjoon probably is just sunburned, and I have no intentions of joining him.”
“Aw, Jiminie, don’t be like that,” Taehyung pleads. Jimin shrugs them both off, storming off to throw himself into his chair with a huff, arms folded.
“Think we pushed too far?” Jungkook asks, worried. If anyone would know, it’s Taehyung. Jungkook considers both of them his best friends, but Taehyung and Jimin have been practically a single entity since preschool.
“I think the military was hard on him,” Taehyung says, biting his lower lip worriedly. “And I think he gets into his own head and thinks we aren’t serious. We should probably back off on the ‘cute guys are looking at you’ thing until he builds his confidence back up.”
“Should we go apologize?”
Taehyung shakes his head. “I think he needs the break. And probably wants us to drop it.”
They leave Jimin to it, throwing themselves into the water instead. Eventually Jimin joins them, smiling again, though he won’t go in any deeper than his knees, neatly backing away from any wave that threatens to nudge him more than he’d like. Jungkook makes him smile wider by hoisting Taehyung up and throwing him, flailing, into an oncoming wave. He comes up sputtering and swearing revenge, but Jungkook isn’t paying attention.
He’s busy locking eyes with Namjoon, who has, in fact, gone very red indeed.
I can lift more than just Taehyung, Jungkook thinks at him desperately. I could lift you. Want to see?
Namjoon jerks his head to the side and goes back to scanning the beach. Still. Jungkook is counting it as a win.
They come out of the water around the time another set of lifeguards come to swap places with Namjoon and Hoseok, though Namjoon practically books it off the beach before Jungkook can make it all the way up the sand.
“Well,” Taehyung says, watching him leave, “I guess you’ve still got the rest of the week.”
“He’s fast,” Jimin notes, one eyebrow raised as Namjoon disappears from sight. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone run away from you that quickly, Jungkookie.”
“Thanks,” Jungkook says, exasperated. “I’m all out of plans. Even if he’s here tomorrow, what do I do, pretend to drown? Doubt he’d be thrilled.”
“Probably not your best plan,” Jimin agrees. He straightens suddenly, eyes going wide as he stares past Jungkook. “Is Hoseok coming over here? Why is he coming over here? Oh my god…”
Jimin trails off, reaching up to tug his sun hat down a little further to cover the wispy ends of his still-growing-out hair. The hat’s practically over his eyes, at this point, but maybe not being able to actually to see Hoseok will help if he needs to speak.
“Hoseok-ssi,” Jungkook says respectfully. He ducks his head, a little nervous and a lot embarrassed. If Hoseok is here to lecture him on his behavior, he’s going to throw himself into the ocean and let the fish eat him.
“Jungkook-ssi,” Hoseok says cheerily. So he’s probably not here to shame Jungkook into an early grave. “Who are your friends?”
“Oh, this is Taehyung, and this is Jimin.” Jimin peeks out from under the brim of his hat to greet Hoseok politely, and then immediately pretends to need something in his bag he can’t find rather than contribute further.
“Good to meet you,” Hoseok says. Jungkook thinks his eyes linger a little bit longer on Jimin, cementing some suspicions Jungkook already had about his interests. He supposes he could be staring because Jimin is doing an absolutely horrible job of faking distraction, but Jungkook doubts it.
Now if only he could get Jimin to see it.
“Hoseok-ssi, I’m sorry about—”
“I haven’t seen Namjoon look twice at someone in over a year,” Hoseok cuts him off bluntly. “Will you be in the area long?”
Jungkook’s eyes widen and he stumbles over his words. “Yeah, I mean, a few days, we…”
“This is just day one,” Taehyung pipes up, taking pity on Jungkook.
“Good, good to hear,” Hoseok says, nodding. “Well, Jungkook-ssi, I just wanted to tell you I’m rooting for you.”
Jungkook stares at him. “What?”
“Namjoonie needs to loosen up a little,” Hoseok says, his grin turning sly, mischievous. “If you can get him out of his shell, I’ll buy you dinner.”
“Trust me,” Taehyung says, “Jungkookie does not need the bribery.”
“Noted,” Hoseok laughs. “Well, I’ll see you all around then.” As he says it, he ducks his head to catch Jimin’s eye. Then he winks.
Jimin fumbles his sunglasses case and loses it in the depths of the bag once more.
“Right,” he says, voice high and strained. “We’ll. All see you.”
He manages to keep his composure long enough for Hoseok to wave at them all and run off towards the street after Namjoon, before the anxious squeak that’s clearly been building finally escapes.
“Jungkook-ah,” he says, slow and sweet. Dangerous. Deadly.
“Yes, hyung?”
Jimin glares daggers at him. “If you draw the attention of any more hot guys on this trip I will drown you in the hotel bathtub.”
Jungkook winces.
_____
On the second day of their vacation, Jungkook’s plan is to apologize, should Namjoon be the lifeguard on duty again. While Hoseok’s encouragement had bolstered him a bit, strengthened his resolve to get Namjoon to talk to him, he can see how he was probably a bit obnoxious at best the day before.
Namjoon is on duty, already setting up when they trudge onto the beach, but checking his phone Jungkook is pleased to see there’s still a few minutes before the lifeguards officially ‘open’ the beach. There are a few scattered families today, and Jungkook would never distract Namjoon while kids are playing. He has a chance, but a very brief one, and he hastens his steps.
When Jungkook first spotted him, Namjoon had been talking to Hoseok about something, but by the time Jungkook is halfway by the beach, a small pod of children has started shrieking nearby. Namjoon snaps to attention, but the kids are circled high up on the shore, safe and secure on the sand as they poke at something. The worry leaves his face, but he signals something to Hoseok and then heads over to double check.
“Easy, guys, they won’t come up if you make too many vibrations,” Namjoon is explaining when Jungkook catches up to him, crouched down low, having confiscated the stick one of the middling-sized children had been using to poke the ground. Jungkook isn’t particularly good at determining kids’ ages. Young, all four of them, the smallest one only up to Jungkook’s hip, the oldest and only girl not yet in the throws of preteen hell. They’re all looking on in wonder as Namjoon hushes them.
The children have gathered around a few divots in the ground, and as Jungkook moves quietly into place behind the smallest child, a teeny tiny crab scuttles halfway out of one of them and freezes.
Immediately, the children shriek with joy, and the crab vanishes as quickly as it had arrived. Namjoon shushes them all hastily, a smile on his face as he settles them.
“They’re shy,” he explains, glancing up at Jungkook to nod in acknowledgment before turning back to the children. “They don’t know if we’re predators.”
“It looks like a spider,” the slightly smaller middling child says.
“It does, a bit,” Namjoon allows. “More legs, though. Arachnids only have eight. Crabs have ten.”
This pleases the children, who giggle amongst themselves about it.
“They only use eight for walking, though,” Namjoon continues. “The other two are the claws, they use them for a lot of things, but this one will probably want to use them to scoop more sand out of his den, so if we’re very patient and very quiet…”
The children all go silent, one of the middling ones going as far as to hold his breath. Sure enough, the crab scoots out with a clawful of sand and goes still once more. The crab looks at the children. The children, dead silent and tense with the effort it takes small children to be so, look back.
The crab drops its handful of sand and scuttles back for more, and the second it’s out of sight the children burst into shrill, excited laughter. The tiniest child gives Namjoon’s joggers a tug. “More?”
Namjoon’s smile softens, and he ruffles the kid’s hair. “I have to get to work,” he says reluctantly. “But if you wait, and you’re good, he might come back.”
Tiny child considers this, and then plops himself onto the sand on his butt. “I wait,” he declares.
“Good choice, bud,” Namjoon says, and Jungkook falls just a little bit harder.
Does Jungkook even want kids? He doesn’t know. He’d been joking when he’d said it yesterday, and he’s never actually thought about it before. Maybe he doesn’t, maybe he just wants Jimin or Taehyung or his brother to create a small pack of offspring for him to dote on and then hand back. But if he does want kids, one day, Namjoon would be amazing with them.
One day at a time, though. First, Jungkook has to get Namjoon to tolerate him.
“I think you have a fan club,” he jokes, following after Namjoon as he walks back to the lifeguard stand.
“You’ve been usurped,” Namjoon agrees, and it’s so unambiguously playful that Jungkook’s heart leaps with hope.
“Namjoon-ssi,” Jungkook begins, “I wanted to—”
He almost manages to get it out, but as Namjoon turns to listen, they both hear the shrill whistle from down the beach, the other lifeguards announcing their readiness.
“Sorry, Jungkook-ssi,” Namjoon says, looking like he means it. “I have to go.”
“Of course!” Jungkook says, waving awkwardly and then taking a pointed step back to physically demonstrate all the space and respect he’s going to give Namjoon. With one more glance, Namjoon strips down to his speedo and pulls himself up on the stand beside Hoseok, blowing his whistle and signaling to the next stand.
Hoseok gives Jungkook a thumbs up behind Namjoon’s back, so Jungkook doesn’t feel quite as heavy as he heads back to his friends.
“I don’t want to stick around long enough to burn,” Jimin says when Jungkook settles down in the chair that doesn’t fit under the umbrella. “Hoseok-ssi said Namjoon’s got an appointment today, anyway, and he’ll have to book it the second his shift is over or he’ll be late.”
“Hoseok helped us get the umbrella up,” Taehyung pipes up, watching the way Jimin’s face reddens with obvious glee. “And spent the whole time talking to Jiminie.”
“It was like two minutes,” Jimim protests, “And he was mostly trying to help Jungkook.”
“Ah, but they weren’t Jungkook’s hands he was ‘accidentally’ holding while you guys tried to secure the umbrella in the sand, were they?”
“Kookie,” Jimin coos, turning his entire body away from Taehyung, an impressive feat considering Taehyung immediately starts trying to scoot his chair further into Jimin’s line of sight. “How did your conversation with Namjoon-ssi go?”
“It didn’t,” Jungkook admits. “And also, our first child is going to have an oceanographic themed nursery.”
“Have you ever even spoken to a child?” Taehyung asks. Jungkook considers the question and then shrugs.
“He’s so gentle with them, though,” he says, closing his eyes and picturing it again. Namjoon’s gentle smile, the way the kids all looked at him for guidance with stars in their eyes.
“Oh no,” Taehyung stage-whispers, “he’s beginning to see him as a person.”
“He was always a person,” Jungkook insists. “Just… a very hot person whose personality traits I am slowly piecing together. Like a jigsaw puzzle. A beautiful, kind, dedicated jigsaw puzzle.”
“We’re going to be hearing about these puzzle pieces all week, aren’t we?” Taehyung asks Jimin, as if Jungkook isn’t sitting right there.
Jimin snorts in response. “Bold of you to think we won’t be hearing it back home, too.”
_____
On the third day, Namjoon is nowhere to be found. Jungkook pouts as he lounges in a chair with a book, watching an Aesthetically-Pretty-But-Very-Not-His-Type woman climb up alongside a man whose only crime is Not Being Namjoon, but it’s crime enough for Jungkook to glare daggers into the back of his head.
“Does this mean we get to do something else today?” Taehyung asks tentatively. Jungkook leans back and drops his book onto his face, hiding from the world. They should probably do that. It’s not just Jungkook’s vacation, after all, and he doesn’t want to ruin it for his friends. They’re not here forever, after all. But still…
“He might show up at shift change,” he says hopefully, muffled by his Romantasy.
“Kookie, that’s four hours from now,” Taehyung points out. Jungkook groans into the pages.
“You can’t even talk to him when he’s on shift,” Jimin points out. “You’d only have about two minutes before he waved you off.”
They’re right, and he knows they’re right, but…
He thinks about Namjoon’s pink cheeks when he looked at Jungkook, and about how sweet he was with the kids yesterday, how earnest he’d been about crabs.
“You guys can go,” he says, pulling his book down to stare glumly up at the umbrella. “I’ll wait.”
“What’s your plan here, Kookie?” Taehyung asks. “We’re only here for a week. You’re gonna make him fall for you in the two minutes he will maybe look in your direction around his shift?”
When Taehyung puts it that way, it sounds stupid. Stupid, and maybe even a little creepy. Jungkook doesn’t want to be a stalker. Nor does he love that Namjoon probably finds him a little obnoxious.
But…
“He’s just so good, hyung,” Jungkook whispers. “He’s just really, really… good. He’s so nice, and he’s smart, and he’s so hot, and it is driving me nuts that I can’t figure out how to make him look at me.”
Jimin huffs loudly, startling Jungkook out of his self-pity. He rises from his chair, tossing his phone and his headphones onto Jungkook’s lap for him to hold, and he stomps his way over to the lifeguard stand.
As Taehyung and Jungkook watch, sharing equally puzzled glances, he leans up to talk to the girl with a broad smile that is a stark contrast to the grimace he’d worn when he stood up. He gives her a quick nod and a little wave, returning to them both with a stern look.
“Namjoon is off today and tomorrow,” he says, snatching his things back to shove them in his bag and start packing up. “Then he’ll be back on the morning shift every day until we leave. So we can go do literally anything else today and tomorrow, and then I will personally enable your stalking.”
Jungkook grins at him. “Thanks, hyung.”
Jimin huffs. “Don’t say I never did anything for you,” he says.
_____
Since day three had been dedicated to mini-golf and jet-ski rentals, most of day four is taken up by napping and otherwise flopping around the hotel room like useless, tired lumps. By late afternoon, though, that’s lost it’s sheen, even for Jimin.
There’s plenty to do just walking around, though. A ton of shops and little stands. A few bars they make note of for later in the evening. And it’s a good thing they do put off getting drunk for later, because it means Jungkook is sober when it happens.
When it happens, however, he does have a mouthful of fish and a streak of sauce down his chin, so you win some, you lose some.
They’re at a stand selling sunglasses, Jimin musing over them like he didn’t bring three different pairs in his bags already, when someone calls Jungkook’s name.
“Jungkook-ssi!”
He turns, licking a bit of sauce from his lower lip, and comes face-to-face with a rapidly approaching dream and/or nightmare.
It’s Hoseok flagging him down, dragging Namjoon along by the arm and followed by two other men, one copper-haired and looking utterly exasperated and amused all at once, the other blond with his hands shoved in his pockets and looking world-weary.
“H-hoseok-ssi,” Jungkook stammers out. “Namjoon-ssi.” He hastily drags the back of his hand across his chin, succeeding only in making his hand vaguely gross and sticky. Jimin makes an exasperated noise and digs a wet wipe out of his cross-body bag for him.
Hoseok waves a hand dismissively, jerking Namjoon to a stop right in front of them. Namjoon stumbles, saved only by his ginger friend snatching the back of his shirt and hauling him back upright. “I think we—oops, sorry Joonie—I think we know eachother enough for you to call me hyung by now.”
They don’t, they really don’t, despite Jungkook’s best efforts. But when his startled silence stretches on a beat too long, Taehyung elbows him and he manages to untie his tongue.
“Right, of course, hyung.”
“I remember Jiminie,” Hoseok says, with a casual familiarity that has Jimin going ramrod-straight and pink-cheeked next to Jungkook, “And you’re Taehyung, right? Sorry, we haven’t talked much yet.”
“That’s me,” Taehyung agrees with a little wave, “and no, I’ve been stepping back and letting Kookie embarrass himself without my assistance.”
“Tae, shut up,” Jungkook hisses out of the corner of his mouth. Namjoon is looking at him, face flushed as they both stand awkwardly amongst horrible friends. Jungkook has been hunting him, but that was when he thought he’d just have a few minutes to stammer out an apology, and then all he’d have to do was stand in line-of-sight looking buff and hot. He hadn’t been expecting to see Namjoon in the wild, where the pressures of work time limits vanished and forced Jungkook to be a real person.
“Every friend group needs a bystander,” the copper-haired man says, nodding sagely.
“Ah, right, this is Jinnie-hyung, our resident wet blanket,” Hoseok says, gesturing.
“Seokjin,” Seokjin corrects dryly, “although you can call me hyung.”
“And he gets into plenty of trouble on his own,” the blond man adds with a roll of his eyes, “just never the trouble Hob-ah wants him in.”
Hoseok huffs. Jungkook imagines him stomping his foot and finds the mental image not very difficult to call up, at all. “This is Yoongi,” he says, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “My menace.”
Behind his back, Yoongi raises an eyebrow. Somehow, Hoseok seems to know, without ever even turning his head. A grin tugs at the corner of Hoseok’s mouth. “And also my boyfriend,” he amends.
Jungkook feels a pang of sympathy for Jimin, who he can see deflate a little out of the corner of his eyes.
“Don’t worry,” Yoongi says. “He’s a menace, too.”
“Noted,” Jimin says, turning to busy himself with the sunglasses again.
“You know,” Hoseok says, bounding forward to link arms with Jungkook, “Joonie was just talking about you.”
Every word out of Hoseok’s mouth seems primed for maximum chaos, but Jungkook’s heart still picks up pace and skips several beats.
“Hoseok!” Namjoon yelps, expression panicked and horrified.
“What?” Hoseok asks, fluttering wide eyes, his face the picture of innocence. “Weren’t you just talking about the cute guy with the biceps and the tattoos? That was Jungkookie, right?”
Namjoon and Jungkook’s faces both simultaneously go redder and redder, but when Namjoon doesn’t immediately refute the accusations, Jungkook nearly combusts. Namjoon thinks he’s cute?
“Hob-ah,” Yoongi says, giving Jungkook a look of obvious sympathy. “Subtlety.”
Hoseok rolls his eyes, but Jungkook notes that he does it facing away from Yoongi. “Anyway,” he says, “are you guys sticking around downtown for a bit? We should walk together!” He loops an arm through Jimin’s, tugging him close with a grin that Jimin returns automatically before remembering himself and going stone-faced and non-flirtatious.
“Hob-ah,” Namjoon splutters, “you can’t just invite yourself—”
“We’d love to hang out!” Taehyung chimes in, a much faster thinker than either Jungkook or Jimin. To be fair, Taehyung is notoriously picky and immune to the charms of beautiful people. He’s not standing around starstruck like his friends.
“Cool,” Hoseok says, shooting him a wink. “So, tell us all about your vacation so far! Is our beautiful hometown offering you the relaxation you need?”
Hoseok certainly knows how to commandeer a room. Or a public street, Jungkook supposes. The six of them fall into line behind him (or snug alongside him, in Jimin’s case), trailing along, stopping to peek in storefronts and admire overpriced souvenirs.
Hoseok talks enough for all of them, which is good, because even as he meanders beside him, Jungkook hasn’t figured out what to say to Namjoon. He’s got an apology on the tip of his tongue, but it’s hard to interrupt as Hoseok goads everyone into conversation, cracking shells and sharing backgrounds.
The four of them are apparently all born and raised coastal boys, though Seokjin went away for school and is only back for the summer. Of the other three, only Hoseok and Namjoon are enrolled in the local university, with Yoongi involved in local radio as a DJ.
“Parties, too, if you’re ever celebrating,” Hoseok adds with obvious pride.
“Not the most glamorous work,” Yoongi assures them. “Kids are both my sweetest and my pickiest clients. The other day I got a ten minute lecture about my remix choices from a girl who barely came up to my hips.”
“It’s a stepping stone,” Namjoon offers, the first thing he’s said since they started walking together. “Yoongi-hyung is building up connections. He’s going to be a producer.”
“I’d like to be a producer,” Yoongi corrects, a faint dusting of rose across his cheeks. “Not everyone makes it. But this’ll pay the bills at least.”
“Hyung will make it,” Namjoon insists, quiet and intensely loyal. He glances at Jungkook, like it’s important to him that Jungkook understands this. Jungkook nods along, certain in Namjoon’s certainty, even if he’s never heard a damn thing Yoongi’s written. Namjoon’s shoulders relax at the affirmation, and he offers Jungkook a small smile that brightens his whole face.
“We’ll see,” Yoongi allows. “And I might still go back to school for something, business and marketing experience could both be useful.”
“He can manage me,” Hoseok says with a smirk. “I’m a dance major. We can hook up backstage and scandalize the rest of the company.”
“Jimin’s a dancer too,” Jungkook says. Jimin scowls at him and Jungkook flushes with embarrassment. He’d forgotten. The sort of muscle they need for the military is very different from a dancer’s build, and Jimin has been talking for months about the training he’ll have to do before the semester starts. Jungkook knows he’s sensitive about it.
“We should dance together sometime,” Hoseok says eagerly. “I’d love to see your moves. Yoongi can be in charge of pushing play on the speakers.”
Yoongi shows no sign of irritation at having his career reduced to such lows, an easygoing smile on his face as he watches Hoseok fawn over Jimin.
Jimin shakes his head in a panic. “I couldn’t, I haven’t danced in ages, I’m rusty.”
“Eighteen months,” Taehyung contributes. “Well, eighteen months since he was doing it daily. You’re insane if you think I’m going to believe you didn’t dance at all on your days off, Jiminie, I know you better than that.”
Jungkook’s starting to think Jimin is going to go right past red and into uncomfortable shades of purple. He hates being put on the spot, Jungkook knows this from experience, but he and Taehyung have made an art form out of riling each other up, and it seems Taehyung isn’t going to let new company deter him from his usual habits.
“Military?” Hoseok asks sympathetically. Jimin shrugs, looking away. Not that he can distance himself too much, with Hoseok still clinging to his arm. For a moment, there’s an awkward silence. Then…
“Hoseok only danced at home for three months after we got out,” Yoongi says softly, eyes intent on Jimin. “He was afraid to look in the mirror and see failure.”
It feels like a secret, like something Yoongi shouldn’t be telling them, but Hoseok only shrugs with a weary, bittersweet smile.
“It’s daunting to come back to something you were good at when you’ve been gone for so long,” he says, sliding his hand down Jimin’s arm to lace their fingers together reassuringly. “Especially something as practice-intensive as dance. But the muscle memory will guide you. You’ll get back to where you were.”
The look on Jimin’s face is painful. Hope and worry and trepidation. Jungkook and Taehyung glance at each other, coming to a voiceless agreement.
But before they can make their excuses, spirit Jimin away back to their hotel room and ply him with movies and cuddles until he forgets his anxieties, Hoseok takes charge once more.
“Jiminie,” Hoseok wheedles, “why don’t you come grab a drink with me and Yoongi? I’ve told him so much about you!”
“What?” Jimin says, visibly baffled, enough to startle himself out of his funk. “What could you have—”
Hoseok seems uninterested in clarifying, getting an arm around Jimin’s shoulders so he can’t wander off, while his other hand grabs Yoongi by the belt loop and tugs him along. Yoongi goes with a fond smile, clearly immune to Hoseok’s chaotic rambling. Unlike Jimin, who is stammering out questions and reluctant excuses as he shoots a panicked look over his shoulder at his friends.
If Jungkook was a good person, he’d rescue Jimin from being trapped with his crush and his crush’s boyfriend. And he does like to think he’s a good person.
But he’s not a great person, and besides… He thinks Jimin might need this. Might need someone who gets it, who was in the same position as him once. Taehyung and Jungkook both enjoy dance and music, but it isn’t their lives. Dance is to Jimin what swimming is to Jungkook, or photography to Taehyung. It’s everything. He needs someone to show him that he isn’t down for the count, and he isn’t going to believe it from either of them.
“Well,” Seokjin says, stretching. “That was subtle and graceful. I’m the poster child for grace and beauty, of course, but it’s past my dinner time and I’m far too hungry to be subtle. Taehyung-ssi?”
“Oh, you don’t have to call me ‘ssi,’” Taehyung says immediately. Seokjin grins at him.
“Perfect. Anyway, please allow me to spirit you away in a plot to leave the two lovebirds alone, in the hopes that they might actually communicate with one another without responsibility or shyness standing in the way.”
The mortified look Namjoon shoots Jungkook can only be rivaled by Jungkook’s own. Taehyung, of course, looks thrilled.
“How long could you possibly have been plotting this?” he asks.
“Hoseok spotted you guys like half an hour ago and texted me in secret, we’ve been herding Namjoon towards you ever since.”
Taehyung holds out a hand to fist bump him. Seokjin looks gleeful at the gesture.
“Slowly,” Namjoon grinds out. Seokjin glances at him, unbothered. “That’s how I’m going to kill you, hyung. Slowly.”
Seokjin waves him off with a roll of his eyes. “You step off the sidewalk to avoid crushing ants. I’m not afraid of you.”
And with that, he and Taehyung leave them there, marching off into the crowd as Namjoon and Jungkook gape at their backs.
“I can’t believe them,” Namjoon mutters. “Actually, I take that back. I can absolutely believe they would do this, and I can’t believe after a decade I haven’t found better friends.”
“Same,” Jungkook says, craning his neck for a last glimpse of Taehyung’s hair as he turns a corner. “This is entirely on-brand and I should have jumped ship in high school.”
They share a look of mutual exasperation, and it takes Jungkook a moment to realize their shared irritation with their friends has completely overridden any hesitation or embarrassment they’d been feeling before.
Bastards. They probably planned that.
“Sooo…” Jungkook says, one hand ruffling his hair nervously. “I hear you think I’m cute?”
Namjoon glares at him. “You heard no such thing.”
Jungkook flexes a little, his t-shirt just tight enough to enable him. “You know,” he says, gesturing to his arms. “With the biceps, and the tattoos?”
“I think you’re a menace,” Namjoon tells him, looking away to hide the bright blush of his cheeks. “There’s still room in the ocean for one more body.”
There’s no heat to it, though, and Jungkook finds he can’t stop smiling.
“I’m sorry, by the way.” It comes out easily, now that he finally has the opportunity to say it. He doesn’t need to hesitated and consider his words like he thought he might. It’s as simple as that. “I shouldn’t have tried to flirt while you were working. I thought you were really hot, and it went to my head a bit.”
If anything, the crimson on Namjoon’s face blazes brighter. “You don’t have any restraint, do you?” he asks.
Jungkook shrugs, self-conscious but determined. “So I’ve been told,” he says. “I just don’t see the point in denying myself the chance to pursue something I want. But I could definitely be more choosy about the moments I pick.”
“I really like my job,” Namjoon says. It’s important to me.” Jungkook nods.
“I know. I’m sorry. Not for hitting on you. I’ll do it again, if you let me. But not while you’re on the clock.”
Namjoon shoots him a glare, but Jungkook can see the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Well,” he says. “I don’t need you to hit on me. Your interest has been noted. But I guess since our friends mutually abandoned us like litter on the roadside, I’ll allow you to walk with me.”
Jungkook grins, bowing with a theatrical flourish. “Lead the way,” he says. Namjoon elbows him.
“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re in public.”
“Does that mean I can be ridiculous in private?”
“Don’t push your luck.”
_____
Despite everything, despite the awkwardness of their first meeting and the embarrassment their friends put them through, walking with Namjoon is easy.
He’s incredibly easy to coax into conversation, and once he gets going, he never seems to run out of things to talk about. Jungkook learns about his university classes, how he’s thinking about turning his bachelors degree in biology into a masters once he gets through the next year. Namjoon loves the water as much as Jungkook does, but his passion lies in the sea specifically.
“I just really love marine animals,” he says at one point, with a relish that warms Jungkook to listen to. And then he spins that off into a conversation about tide pools that takes them all the way down one street and up another, before either of them realizes they haven’t stopped at any shops or stalls or restaurants for the entire journey.
“God, I just keep going on,” Namjoon says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry. I’ve been told I can get a bit fixated.”
“Guess that makes two of us,” Jungkook reminds him. “It’s okay. I didn’t have anywhere specific I wanted to go. I mostly came out to keep my hyungs company.”
“Didn’t you look anything up ahead of time?” Namjoon asks, eyebrow raised. Jungkook shrugs.
“I never really have to. Jimin and Tae always know where they want to go, and they haven’t steered me wrong yet. Well,” he amends, “they haven’t steered me wrong when they weren’t trying to.”
Namjoon nods his understanding and looks down the street, considering. “You know, I’ve lived here my whole life,” he says, “so I’ve got a pretty good idea of what’s worth checking out.”
“Lead the way,” Jungkook says, gesturing down the street. “I put my evening in your hands.”
“I mean, we should probably try to hunt down our various traitors at some point,”Namjoon concedes, “but there is one place you should never skip.”
It turns out to be a candy shop, tucked down a side street, away from the business of the main road. The scent of warm chocolate overtakes Jungkook the moment the door opens, a wave of sweet and comfort that he could easily sink into. It’s just a little shop. There are a few shelves of gift options, but the majority of the space is dominated by the wide glass display counter, showing of a host of truffles and treats that the signs proudly boast are made in-house.
“Ah, Namjoon-ssi!”
This is becoming as familiar a refrain as Jungkook’s own name. Everyone knows Namjoon. Aunties selling street food. Small children gathered around the windows of shops. Disgruntled teenagers with their families who perk up when they see him. Not all of them are locals, either. Several obvious tourists had greeted Namjoon with wide smiles.
Namjoon had borne it all with grace, but this time he rolls his eyes. “Jooheon,” he says, “we went to high school together. We were in the same year. You once did a backflip into my auntie’s pool. You don’t have to call me ‘ssi.’”
“I do when my halmeoni is in the back,” Jooheon says sweetly, giving them a wink.
“She was there for that party,” Namjoon reminds him, but he doesn’t fight any further. “Do you have—”
“Your caramels? Always.” Jooheon slides along behind the counter, reaching over the top of the glass case to point to a particular tray. “Fresh, too, Halmeoni made them this morning.”
It’s a tray of perfectly shaped dark-chocolate squares, generously sprinkled with sea salt. Namjoon brightens when he sees them, with a joy Jungkook had only seen matched when he was talking about the ocean.
“Ah, they, uh… They’ve gone up a bit, though,” Jooheon says apologetically.
Namjoon deflates a bit, but nods. “Everything has,” he says.
“Rent, mainly,” Jooheon says. “We’re not struggling, but tourist season ends eventually and we want to make sure we have enough put aside.”
“You don’t have to justify your prices to me, Jooheon-ah. We live in a tourist trap. I know what the bills are like here.”
Still, Jungkook notices the way Namjoon hesitates as he examines the prices.
“Just a quarter pound today,” he finally says reluctantly. “Jungkook-ah, you should try the truffles. People go wild for them.”
“Ah, right, who’s this, Joon-ah?” Jonghyuk asks, head tilted curiously.
Namjoon turns to consider Jungkook. “A friend,” he finally says, but the smile they share tells Jungkook that doesn’t have to be the end of it.
______
When they finally find their friends, they’ve all gathered together once more. Jimin has relaxed considerably, though he also seems a bit tipsy. He leans against Yoongi’s shoulder and Yoongi makes sure to shift any time he does, bolstering him up.
Taehyung and Seokjin, meanwhile, have somehow developed inside jokes and the ability to communicate solely through side eye in the hour or so they’ve been alone, and they do so when Namjoon accosts Hoseok with an arm around his neck to lecture him on scheming.
“Have a nice walk?” Taehyung asks innocently. Jungkook shoots him a discreet thumbs up.
_____
They’d spent the rest of the evening as a group, as the moon rose high in the sky and the nightlife bustled around them. Jungkook likes Namjoon’s friends. They’re all funny and playful, even Yoongi, despite the aloof aura he’d given off at first glance.
Namjoon had been somewhere at his side the whole night, too. He’d thought it was coincidence at first, but then they’d all found a sit-down place to cap off their night and Namjoon had tried to subtly bully his way past Seokjin to sit beside him. Jungkook is pretty sure Namjoon doesn’t know he saw him, but he’s been carrying that memory happily all through the night and the early morning.
On the fifth day of their vacation, they only spend an hour at the beach. Just enough time for Taehyung and Jungkook to get their exercise in in the water, and for Jimin to hesitate halfway down the beach, glance back at the lifeguard stand where Namjoon and Hoseok have already settled in, and then think better of it. He lays out on his towel instead, hiding under Jungkook’s to protect himself from the sun since they hadn’t bothered to drag the umbrella out.
Jungkook behaves himself. He doesn’t wave at Namjoon or try to get his attention; he knows better now, and Namjoon enjoyed his company yesterday. He doesn’t want to ruin that.
But he can get away with something little, he’s sure. Once they’ve gathered their things, Jungkook ducks back towards the lifeguard stand and sets a box on the edge, just beside Namjoon’s amazing thighs. It’s another pound of the candies Namjoon had bought the day before, which Jungkook had conspired with Seokjin to grab at some point during the evening, unable to double back himself with how he and Namjoon had been circling each other.
He doesn’t plan to say anything, not wanting to interfere with Namjoon’s concentration. Instead, it’s Namjoon who speaks, hastily blurting out Jungkook’s name as he starts to walk away.
Jungkook pauses, looking over his shoulder, brow furrowed. Namjoon is half out of the chair, leaning over, twisted to watch him go. Behind his back, Hoseok starts snickering and holds up a thumbs up for Jungkook without taking his eyes off their section of the beach.
“Will you be back tomorrow?” Namjoon asks, his face flushed. Jungkook feels heat rising in his own cheeks, stretched wide by his grin.
“Bright and early,” he chirps.
“Right. Yeah.” Namjoon turns then, unable to look away for too long, but he adds over his shoulder, “maybe…maybe you could be here around two, though?”
“Yeah, hyung,” Jungkook says, his heart racing faster than it ever has. “I’ll see you then.”