Taehyung had exactly three rules when it came to his college life.
First — never lose in anything, especially to Jeon Jungkook.
Second — never, under any circumstance, admit that Jungkook was good at something.
And third — never, ever, under the curse of a thousand pop quizzes, be alone in a room with him.
Unfortunately, rule number three was about to be broken. Again.
The auditorium buzzed with post-competition chatter as students packed up their things. Today’s debate match had been heated — Taehyung still felt the adrenaline in his veins. And there he was, across the stage, the one person who could match his fire with equal spark — Jeon Jungkook, all smug smile and annoyingly perfect hair.
“Good try, Kim,” Jungkook called out, strolling over with his hands tucked in his pockets. “Almost convincing… if you didn’t stumble on your last point.”
Taehyung turned sharply, shooting him a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “I didn’t stumble. I was giving the audience a dramatic pause. It’s called showmanship.”
Jungkook tilted his head, smirk growing. “Oh, is that what we’re calling mistakes now?”
The banter was routine by now. Jungkook teased, Taehyung bit back, the crowd in between enjoyed the sparks. Rivalry made everything more interesting — though Taehyung would rather walk barefoot on Legos than admit Jungkook’s presence gave him a strange, buzzing energy.
As the auditorium emptied, Taehyung gathered his notes. Most people had left, and the sound of rain tapping against the tall glass windows filled the silence. He’d just slipped his folder into his bag when a sharp crack echoed through the room — the sound of something breaking.
“Ow—”
Taehyung turned to see Jungkook rubbing his ankle, a toppled chair beside him.
“Smooth,” Taehyung said dryly. “Were you trying to impress me or just the floor?”
“Very funny,” Jungkook muttered, trying to walk it off, but his wince gave him away. He limped, almost losing his balance.
Taehyung sighed. His better judgment told him to leave. His pride whispered that it would serve Jungkook right. But his conscience… well, that stubborn thing had a way of winning.
“Sit,” Taehyung ordered.
“What?”
“Sit before you turn your ankle into something that actually needs crutches.”
To his surprise, Jungkook obeyed without a smart remark. Taehyung crouched down, pushing Jungkook’s damp jeans up slightly to inspect. It wasn’t a bad injury, but the skin looked strained.
“You should ice it,” Taehyung said, voice softer now.
Jungkook arched a brow. “Careful, Kim. Sounds like you care.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Taehyung replied quickly, standing up. “I just don’t want to win our next match because you forfeited.”
Still, he helped Jungkook to his feet, letting him lean on him until they reached the hallway. Jungkook’s shoulder was warm against his, and Taehyung hated that he noticed.
Outside, the rain had intensified. Students without umbrellas darted between buildings. Taehyung pulled his own umbrella from his bag, opening it with a click.
“Here,” he said, stepping under it and glancing at Jungkook. “Unless you want to hobble back in the rain.”
Jungkook hesitated, then stepped closer, the faint scent of his cologne mixing with the earthy rain. For the first time that day, there was no teasing — just quiet, the kind that made Taehyung uncomfortably aware of how close they stood.
“Thanks,” Jungkook said finally, and it wasn’t sarcastic.
Taehyung only hummed in response, eyes fixed ahead as they walked through the rain. But deep down, he knew something had shifted.
Maybe it was just the rain.
Or maybe, just maybe… his greatest rival had a way of sneaking past rules he thought were unbreakable.
The next morning, Taehyung was determined to pretend yesterday never happened.
Yes, he had let Jungkook walk under his umbrella. Yes, their shoulders had brushed more than once. And yes, Jungkook had said “thanks” without a smirk.
But that didn’t mean anything. Rivals didn’t suddenly turn into friends because of one rainy walk.
The gym was already buzzing when Taehyung arrived for basketball practice. He wasn’t on the team officially, but he often joined for extra training. It was the perfect place to burn off energy… and sometimes frustration.
Unfortunately, frustration came in the form of Jungkook standing at the far end of the court, shooting hoops effortlessly, as if gravity itself worked in his favor.
Taehyung muttered under his breath and focused on his own game.
Half an hour in, he went for a quick sprint and jump shot — but as he landed, his foot slid on a slick patch of the floor. His ankle twisted sharply, and a sharp pain shot up his leg.
“Ah—!”
Before he could even register what happened, someone was at his side.
“Don’t move,” Jungkook’s voice cut in firmly, and for a moment, it didn’t sound like the smug rival he knew — it sounded like someone who meant it.
“I’m fine,” Taehyung tried to brush it off, but his voice wavered.
“Yeah, sure. And I’m the president,” Jungkook replied dryly. He crouched down, examining Taehyung’s ankle with careful hands. “You’ve definitely strained it. Can you stand?”
“I can—” Taehyung tried, but the moment he put weight on it, pain lanced through him and he stumbled.
Jungkook caught him instantly, one arm wrapping around his waist, the other steadying his shoulder. “Guess that’s a no. Come on.”
Before Taehyung could protest, Jungkook scooped him up bridal-style. The move caught the attention of half the gym, and Taehyung’s ears burned.
“Put me down! People are staring!”
“Let them stare,” Jungkook said casually, already heading toward the benches. “You’re light. Stop fussing.”
Taehyung buried his face in his hands, mortified. He could feel Jungkook’s steady heartbeat against his chest, and it was infuriatingly… steadying.
Once seated, Jungkook crouched again and gently lifted Taehyung’s leg onto his knee. He removed Taehyung’s shoe carefully, his touch surprisingly delicate.
“You really should be more careful,” Jungkook muttered, pulling a cold pack from the nearby first aid kit.
Taehyung frowned. “And you should stop acting like you care.”
Jungkook glanced up, meeting his eyes. “Maybe I do.”
The words hung in the air longer than they should have. Taehyung quickly looked away, pretending to study the far wall.
After securing the ice pack, Jungkook helped him stand — this time letting Taehyung drape an arm over his shoulder instead of carrying him again.
“Where’s your dorm? I’ll walk you back,” Jungkook said as if it were non-negotiable.
“I can manage—”
“You can’t even walk straight.”
Taehyung sighed but didn’t argue further. The walk back was slow, their steps awkwardly in sync. The late morning sun filtered through the trees, and despite the throbbing in his ankle, Taehyung found himself strangely at ease.
When they reached his dorm, Taehyung unlocked the door and leaned against the frame. “Thanks… I guess.”
Jungkook smirked, but it was softer this time. “Don’t make a habit of getting hurt. I’m not always this nice.”
Before Taehyung could respond, Jungkook turned and left, leaving Taehyung with an ice pack, a sore ankle… and an even sorer heart that didn’t quite understand why it was beating faster.
Taehyung prided himself on two things: his grades and his ability to work alone.
That’s why the words “You’ll be working in pairs” from Professor Han felt like a punch to the gut.
He sat up straighter in his seat, already scanning the room for someone tolerable. Maybe he could partner with Jimin from the back row — smart, quiet, not annoying. But before he could move, the professor continued, “And I’ve already assigned your partners.”
Taehyung’s stomach dropped.
“Kim Taehyung… and Jeon Jungkook.”
He swore he heard a drumroll in his head.
From across the room, Jungkook grinned like a cat who’d just found the cream. “Looks like we’re a team, Kim.”
“Looks like my week is ruined,” Taehyung muttered under his breath, but unfortunately, Jungkook heard him.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make it painless,” Jungkook said, taking the seat beside him. “Mostly.”
Their project was a full presentation on cultural influences in modern architecture — research-heavy, requiring late nights and more coffee than any human should consume. Taehyung mentally prepared himself for disaster.
The first study session was at the library that evening. Taehyung arrived ten minutes early, determined to get a head start before Jungkook could derail things. He’d just settled with his laptop when a shadow fell over him.
“You’re early,” Jungkook said, sliding into the chair opposite him.
“You’re late,” Taehyung replied without looking up.
“I’m exactly on time.” Jungkook placed a paper cup in front of him.
Taehyung blinked. “What’s this?”
“Your coffee. I remembered you take it with two sugars and no cream.”
Taehyung stared at him. “How—”
“You complain loud enough in the cafeteria line for the whole campus to know,” Jungkook said with a small smirk.
Taehyung muttered something about stalkers but took a sip anyway. It was perfect.
They worked for hours, bickering over font choices and arguing about which sources to use, yet somehow… it wasn’t unbearable. Jungkook had this infuriating way of making even disagreements feel oddly fun.
At one point, Taehyung’s pen rolled off the table. Without a word, Jungkook picked it up and set it back, brushing his fingers against Taehyung’s in the process.
“You could’ve just thrown it at me,” Taehyung said.
“And miss an excuse to touch your hand? Never,” Jungkook replied, leaning back with a grin.
Taehyung felt his ears heat but ignored him, focusing on his notes.
By the time they wrapped up, the library was nearly empty. Taehyung stood and stretched, only to wince slightly — his ankle still ached from yesterday’s game.
Jungkook noticed instantly. “Still hurts?”
“It’s fine.”
“That’s what you said yesterday before almost face-planting in the hallway.”
Before Taehyung could protest, Jungkook crouched down and adjusted the strap of his bag so it wouldn’t hit his ankle when he walked. “Better?”
“…Yeah,” Taehyung admitted reluctantly.
They left the library together, their footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway. Outside, the air was cool, the moonlight soft.
“You’re not as bad as I thought,” Jungkook said suddenly.
Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “Is that your way of saying you like working with me?”
“Don’t push it,” Jungkook teased, but his smile lingered.
When they reached Taehyung’s dorm, Jungkook paused. “See you tomorrow, partner.”
Taehyung rolled his eyes, but as he closed the door behind him, he caught himself smiling. Just a little.
The weather forecast had said “light drizzle.”
The sky apparently hadn’t gotten the memo.
By the time Taehyung stepped out of his last lecture, the campus was drowning under sheets of heavy rain. He groaned, rummaging through his bag only to remember — he’d left his umbrella on his desk this morning. Brilliant.
He debated running for it, but the wind was sharp, and the rain was relentless. Just as he was mentally preparing himself to get soaked, a shadow fell over him.
“Forgot your umbrella again, didn’t you?” Jungkook’s voice was smug, but his eyes held a flicker of amusement.
Taehyung glanced up — and there it was, the annoyingly perfect Jeon Jungkook standing with a large black umbrella, already angled to cover them both.
“I didn’t ‘forget,’” Taehyung lied. “I just… didn’t bring it.”
“That’s the same thing.” Jungkook smirked and stepped closer. “Come on, unless you want to look like a drenched kitten.”
Taehyung wanted to argue, but the cold droplets already clinging to his hair made him give in. He stepped under the umbrella, instantly aware of how close they had to stand.
Their shoulders brushed. Jungkook’s arm shifted slightly to keep the umbrella perfectly centered above them, and Taehyung could smell the faint scent of rain mixing with Jungkook’s cologne.
“You could’ve just walked away,” Taehyung muttered as they started across campus.
“And let you catch a cold? Please. Who would I argue with if you were bedridden?”
Taehyung rolled his eyes, but he noticed how Jungkook subtly tilted the umbrella more toward him, letting his own shoulder get wet.
Halfway to the dorms, a gust of wind pushed the rain sideways, and Jungkook cursed under his breath. Without hesitation, he reached behind his head, tugged his gray hoodie off, and held it out to Taehyung.
“Here.”
“What? No. You’ll get soaked.”
“Already am.” Jungkook draped the hoodie over Taehyung’s head before he could refuse. “Just wear it, Kim. You’re shivering.”
Taehyung froze under the sudden warmth of the fabric. It was soft, smelled faintly of detergent and something that was undeniably Jungkook. His hands clutched the edges almost unconsciously.
“You’re ridiculous,” Taehyung mumbled, adjusting the hoodie so it fit better.
“Ridiculously nice, maybe,” Jungkook shot back.
By the time they reached Taehyung’s building, his hair was dry, his clothes only slightly damp. Jungkook, on the other hand, looked like he’d taken a casual stroll through a fountain.
“See? You’re soaked,” Taehyung pointed out, guilt tugging at him.
“Worth it,” Jungkook said simply.
Taehyung hesitated, then opened his door wider. “Come in. You can at least dry off before you get pneumonia or something.”
Jungkook grinned and stepped inside, shaking some of the water from his hair. Taehyung handed him a towel and watched as he rubbed at his head, droplets sliding down the side of his neck.
He looked… soft. Less like the cocky rival who always had a comeback ready, and more like someone Taehyung wouldn’t mind spending a rainy day with.
“Thanks for the rescue,” Taehyung said quietly.
Jungkook’s head tilted, his smile gentler now. “Anytime.”
As Jungkook left later, Taehyung found himself still wearing the hoodie, fingers curled around the fabric like it was some kind of shield from the cold — or maybe from the strange new warmth creeping into his chest.
It was supposed to be a quick meeting to finalize their presentation slides.
Two hours later, Taehyung and Jungkook were still in the library, surrounded by books, empty coffee cups, and the occasional annoyed glare from the librarian.
“This chart looks ugly,” Taehyung said, squinting at the screen.
“It’s a chart, not a piece of art,” Jungkook replied without looking up.
“Everything’s art if you look at it the right way.”
Jungkook sighed, clicked a few keys, and rotated the chart slightly just to humor him. “Better?”
“Mm. Less ugly,” Taehyung allowed, leaning back in his chair.
The clock ticked past 10 p.m., the library growing quieter. Taehyung tried to focus, but the combination of warm lighting, the steady tapping of Jungkook’s fingers on the keyboard, and the faint scent of coffee was lulling him into drowsiness.
He blinked hard, forcing himself upright, but at some point — he lost.
When Jungkook finally turned to ask for his opinion on a slide, Taehyung’s head was tilted against his folded arms on the table, eyes closed, breathing soft and even.
Jungkook’s first instinct was to tease him, maybe snap a picture for blackmail material. But instead, he found himself just… looking.
Without the sharp retorts and competitive glint in his eyes, Taehyung looked peaceful. The faint curve of his lips, the way his hair fell over his forehead — it was almost unfair how effortlessly soft he seemed when asleep.
Jungkook noticed the way Taehyung’s shoulders were hunched and sighed quietly. He slipped out of his hoodie and, moving carefully so he wouldn’t wake him, draped it over Taehyung’s back.
The librarian passed by and gave Jungkook a pointed look, clearly ready to scold him for staying too late. Jungkook simply gestured toward Taehyung as if to say, See? He’s harmless right now.
Returning to his seat, Jungkook kept working, but every now and then his gaze would wander back to the sleeping figure across from him. He told himself it was just to make sure Taehyung wasn’t drooling on his notes.
Around 10:30, Taehyung stirred, blinking slowly as he sat up. “How long was I—” He paused mid-sentence, realizing the warm weight on his shoulders. “This isn’t mine.”
“You were cold,” Jungkook said simply, not looking away from his laptop.
Taehyung’s brows furrowed, and he tugged the hoodie tighter around himself, trying to hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “You could’ve just woken me up.”
“And miss the only moment you’ve ever been quiet? No chance.”
Taehyung rolled his eyes but didn’t push the hoodie away. He noticed Jungkook’s hair was slightly messy, his eyes a little tired. “You should take a break too,” he murmured.
“I’m fine. Besides, we’re almost done.”
They finished the slides in silence, the kind that wasn’t awkward — more like they’d both settled into a quiet rhythm.
When they finally packed up, Taehyung lingered for a moment before handing the hoodie back. “Thanks. For… you know.”
“Keeping you from freezing? Sure.”
“No. For… not being an ass for once,” Taehyung said with a smirk.
Jungkook chuckled. “Don’t get used to it.” But his eyes were warm, and Taehyung noticed.
As they walked out into the cool night air, Taehyung found himself thinking about how easy it had felt to fall asleep around Jungkook.
And maybe — just maybe — that said something he wasn’t ready to admit yet.
It started with a glance.
Or maybe it had started long before that, and Jungkook was only just noticing.
Either way, something had shifted.
They were sitting in the campus café, their project officially done but neither of them rushing to leave. Taehyung was scrolling through his phone, his brow furrowed in concentration, lips pursed slightly. And Jungkook… was staring.
It wasn’t intentional — or at least that’s what he told himself. But he kept catching details he’d never noticed before: the way Taehyung’s lashes curled naturally, how the corner of his mouth lifted when he found something amusing, the way his fingers tapped lightly against the table in rhythm with the café music.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Taehyung asked suddenly, not even glancing up.
Jungkook blinked, caught. “Like what?”
“Like you’re planning something.”
Jungkook smirked to cover the sudden heat in his chest. “Maybe I am.”
Taehyung rolled his eyes and returned to his phone, but Jungkook noticed the faintest pink on his ears.
That afternoon, Jungkook caught himself doing it again. In class, instead of listening to the lecture, he found his gaze drifting to the way Taehyung’s head tilted when he took notes, how he chewed the end of his pen when he was thinking.
And then, the weirdest part — he started noticing the little things Taehyung did for him.
Like sliding his coffee closer when Jungkook’s cup was empty.
Or bringing an extra snack “by accident” during study sessions.
Or leaning his chair just slightly toward Jungkook when they sat together.
The realization crept in slowly, but once it was there, it was impossible to ignore: he didn’t just like Taehyung as a rival anymore. He liked liked him.
And that was a problem.
Because Taehyung still gave him that same competitive glare in class, still rolled his eyes at his jokes, still called him “annoying” at least twice a day.
But then… there were moments.
Like when they bumped into each other at the vending machine that evening.
“You’re here late,” Taehyung said, dropping coins into the slot.
“Could say the same about you.”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Thinking about me?”
Taehyung snorted. “In your dreams.” But his lips twitched like he was holding back a smile.
They stood in silence for a moment as Taehyung’s drink clattered into the tray. Without thinking, Jungkook reached over, twisted the cap open, and handed it back.
Taehyung blinked. “You’re… being nice again. This is weird.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Jungkook said, echoing his own words from the library night. But something in his voice was softer than before.
Later, lying in bed, Jungkook stared at the ceiling. He couldn’t remember when exactly the rivalry had started feeling like… this. When teasing had stopped being just for the thrill of winning and started being an excuse to see Taehyung smile.
And the thought of Taehyung laughing like that for someone else?
Yeah. That didn’t sit well.
The campus was quiet that evening. Streetlights glimmered on wet pavement from the earlier drizzle, and the air smelled faintly of rain and autumn leaves.
Taehyung had stayed behind after club practice to finish some sketches for his art class. Lost in his work, he didn’t notice the footsteps approaching until a familiar voice broke the silence.
“Finishing your masterpiece, or just making me wait?”
Taehyung’s head snapped up. Of course — it was Jungkook, leaning casually against the doorway with that infuriating smirk.
“I’m busy,” Taehyung said, though his voice didn’t sound as firm as usual.
“Busy avoiding me?” Jungkook teased, pushing off the wall and stepping closer. “Or… busy thinking about me?”
Taehyung’s blush betrayed him, and he immediately turned back to his sketchbook. “You’re impossible.”
“I prefer… challenging,” Jungkook said, crouching slightly to peek at the sketch. His eyes softened as he studied the lines. “This is really good.”
Taehyung’s chest tightened. Compliments from Jungkook were rare, genuine ones even rarer. He mumbled a thanks, not daring to meet his eyes.
For a few minutes, they worked side by side, quietly. Then Jungkook shifted, resting an elbow on the edge of the table, and said softly, “You know… I’ve been thinking.”
Taehyung froze.
“Thinking?” he echoed cautiously.
Jungkook leaned back, smiling faintly. “Yeah. About us.”
Taehyung’s pen slipped, leaving a dark streak across the paper. His heart thumped in a way that made him feel foolish. “Us? You mean… enemies?”
Jungkook shook his head. “No. I mean… whatever this is between us. I tried ignoring it. I tried pretending I only wanted to win every argument, to tease you constantly… but that’s not the whole truth.”
Taehyung’s breath caught. He tried to hide his pounding heart behind his sketchbook, but it was impossible.
Jungkook stood, taking a slow step closer. “The truth is… I like you. I like you a lot. More than I probably should for someone I’ve spent half my life calling ‘annoying.’”
Taehyung blinked. He opened his mouth, closed it, blinked again. His mind scrambled, but his heart… it already knew.
“I… I like you too,” he whispered, barely audible.
Jungkook grinned, and for the first time that day, the playful smirk softened into something warmer. “You’re full of surprises, Kim.”
“Not that much of a surprise,” Taehyung muttered, finally meeting his eyes. “I guess I just… didn’t know if you felt the same.”
“Well,” Jungkook said, closing the distance between them, “now you know. And maybe… we can stop pretending to hate each other?”
Taehyung laughed softly, the tension in his chest easing. “Maybe.”
Jungkook reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from Taehyung’s forehead. “So… we’re an ‘us’ now?”
Taehyung’s lips curved into a shy smile. “We’ve been an ‘us’ for a while. You just didn’t notice.”
“And here I thought I was the observant one,” Jungkook teased, though his thumb lingered gently against Taehyung’s cheek.
They stood there for a long moment, the world outside fading, their previous rivalry dissolved into something tender, something unmistakably theirs.
Finally, Jungkook leaned closer, careful, hesitant, and whispered, “So… can I… kiss you?”
Taehyung’s heartbeat thundered, but he nodded. “About time.”
Their lips met softly, a perfect mix of playful teasing and gentle affection, sealing months of banter, rivalry, and stolen glances into one quiet, perfect confession.
When they pulled away, Taehyung laughed, resting his forehead against Jungkook’s. “I guess I can tolerate you now.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Jungkook said, grinning.
The rain had stopped outside, leaving the campus sparkling under the streetlights. For the first time, Taehyung and Jungkook walked back together not as rivals, not as reluctant partners, but as something far better — two hearts that had found their way from glances and glares to care, and finally, to love.
And in that quiet, golden evening, enemies became lovers, softly, perfectly, just as they were meant to.
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AUTHOR NOTE :
HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED THIS STORY 💕
