for fearnoworld: notion

[bangtanmod]

Title: Notion
Recipient: fearnoworld
Pairing: J-Hope/Jungkook
Rating: R
Word count: 1354 words
Warnings Slight mention of masturbation (underage), lil' bit of teenage angst.
Summary: Jeongguk has a crush.
Author's notes: Written for your last prompt. Hello! I hope you enjoy this. Thanks to the mod(s) for the generosity and patience!



Hoseok smiles a lot.

Jeongguk notices this early on in the game. The very first time they meet when he’s drafted into the group of trainees, anxious to get into the upcoming group under Big Hit Entertainment. The very first time Jung Hoseok leans over, nods at him, and smiles, wide and eager.

“Hello,” he’d said, voice a pleasant roll of vowels and consonants, and Jeongguk’s stomach had done a back-flip unnecessarily. “Welcome to the team.”

Even now, a year and more into their debut, Jung Hoseok still smiles like the break of dawn. Like the world brightening each and every day, the light of the sun crackling through the clouds with an easiness that can’t be found anywhere else. And Jeongguk’s gut still does flips, no matter how many times he tells it not to. Even though he never really understands why it even does so.

“Jeongguk,” calls Seokjin, snapping him out of his reverie, and Jeongguk scuttles over to where they’re getting into a fresh round of practice. They’re only two hours into their day’s workload, and they’d taken a quick ten minute breather. Jeongguk had welcomed the break, scooting up to the wall with his knees up to his chest, sucking in a bottle of cool water like his life depended on it.

As Jeongguk settles into his position, Hoseok nudges him in the arm, and smiles, a quick, light thing that flashes and blinds for just a millisecond. “You good, kid?” he says, as warm as ever, and something heavy settles into Jeongguk’s bones.

“Yeah,” says Jeongguk, and he rolls his neck, trying to be casual, nodding along to the beat to come. “I’m good, hyung.”

Good. A word that could use a much better definition, according to Jeongguk’s standards. What can he call good? Can he call good the soft, sloping arch of emotion that dips and swirls in the bottom of his gut whenever Hoseok looks over at him and speaks to him and smiles at him? Can he call good the way his skin burns whenever he shoots a too-close glance in the mirror as they’re practicing and he catches sight of something he never knew he wanted to see?

As if on cue, Jeongguk turns, and catches a glimpse of Hoseok in the wall of mirrors, expression one of full concentration. Biting his lower lip, sweat slicking his bangs back against his forehead. The loose basketball jersey enveloping his frame, but completely baring his arms, tan and lithe and long.

Jeongguk trips over Taehyung’s foot, and apologises in a rush, fumbling his way back into the choreography.

Later, Jeongguk stands in the bathroom, the last one to take a shower, and he makes absolute use of the privacy he’s been granted as the last one to have access to the hot water. He runs the last bits of the shampoo through his hair, leans against the wall of the shower, and tries to not feel guilty when he lets his hands wander down south, curling in a familiar motion. He fails miserably, and has to bite back the soft moan in the back of his throat when he presses his cheek against the tiles and comes hard, thinking about Hoseok from practice earlier.

He quietly pads into his bunk later, and tugs the covers up so high over his face that nobody can see the embarrassed flush that reaches up his skin, and the knowledge that everything he’s been feeling in the past few weeks, months, years, can be summed up in one small, insignificant, asininely teenage concept.

Jeongguk has a crush.

“Seriously?” he whispers to himself in the dark, totally disbelieving, and slightly tempted to go online out of desperation to search up How To pages to get over whatever this is. Having a crush on someone you live with. Liking your band-mate more than a friend is supposed to. Oh, god. Having a crush on another boy. Jeongguk feels something curl up inside him at that thought, something that feels terrifyingly like panic and the overwhelming notion of what if someone finds out?

“Hey,” comes a voice, soft in the night, and Jeongguk nearly jumps right up into the bottom of the top bunk. “Shit, sorry, did I scare you?”

“No, of course not,” says Jeongguk, heart thumping even more now that he’s realised who the voice belongs to. Hoseok’s face is peeking over his bunk. He’s frowning, just a little. Concern shows in his features. He’s always been too easy to read. Jeongguk wonders if he’s the same, too. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, just.” Hoseok shrugs, visible in the thin light that comes from the street-lamps outdoors. The nights in Seoul are never truly dark. Seoul is never asleep. All the more to keep Jeongguk company as he lies awake with his thoughts. “You looked off today. You okay? Are you sick again? Because we could—I could talk to manager-hyung, and ask him to lessen practice time, if you really need—”

“No, I’m fine,” says Jeongguk hurriedly, shaking his head. There’s no way he’s about to admit his problem to the very person he’d been thinking about just seconds before. “Just. Thinking about stuff.”

Hoseok’s face lightens up, and Jeongguk’s heart gives a little twinge again. He shoves it away, compartmentalises it, and kicks himself internally for even letting himself feel that. “Well, don’t think too hard,” says Hoseok easily, and he reaches over to place his hand on Jeongguk’s head, just a quick sign of comfort. Fingers twining through his hair, sweeping his bangs back. Soft. Warm. Caring. Jeongguk leans into the touch, despite himself. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. You know, stress can make you sick too.”

“I’m not stressed,” says Jeongguk, and his pulse leaps into his throat when Hoseok lets his hand wander down to pat his cheek, a thumb running under his eye so minutely that Jeongguk probably wouldn’t have felt it if not for the acute perplexity coursing under his skin. “Don’t worry, hyung. Really. I’m fine. It won’t affect practice or anything.”

Hoseok smiles, and Jeongguk wants to just curl up and think about his smile forever. “I wasn’t thinking about how practice would go. I was worrying about you, kid. You know I worry about you too much for my own good, right?”

“Right,” says Jeongguk, and now the ache sets in, the ever familiar ache he knows whenever he sees Hoseok talk about other people, or girls, for that matter, or whenever Hoseok implies how much he cares about Jeongguk in a wholly brotherly manner. “Got it. Thanks, Hoseok-hyung.”

“Go to bed, yeah?” Hoseok slips off, and Jeongguk is left to ponder the darkness, with his chest in a knot.

“Goodnight,” says Jeongguk, to nobody in particular, and he turns to face the wall, tugging the blanket back up, and hugging his pillow in a way that just ends up reminding him of his age, and how much younger he is in comparison to Hoseok. Not exactly the greatest gap in the world, but enough for him to start feeling the effects.

No matter, though, figures Jeongguk. He’ll just get over it. It’s nothing huge. Crushes come and go quicker than the winds change. Much faster than the speed of sound. Much sooner will the day come where he feels nothing but friendship, than the day the world ends.

Jeongguk silences his thoughts, breathes out, and attempts to sleep.

He doesn’t sleep the entire night.

In the morning, when daylight comes once again, and everyone awakens to get to their usual schedules, Jeongguk stumbles into the bathroom to find Hoseok already chipper, already ready to take the day head-on, already righted on the axis he spins on. “Good morning,” he calls, beaming, and Jeongguk mumbles his own greeting, stumbling past him to grab his toothbrush.

As he stands at the bathroom mirror, Hoseok leans over and ruffles his hair. “You’re always so cute in the mornings,” he remarks, offhandedly, “all sleepy.”

Jeongguk flushes red, and there it goes, there it begins.

There it starts from the top all over again.