3

The next morning, Jungkook was buzzing with energy. He had a plan—one that he wasn’t entirely confident in, but at this point, he was willing to try anything. Time was slipping through his fingers, and if he didn’t act fast, he’d miss his shot at getting into college before admissions closed. It wasn’t ideal, and truth be told, the plan Jimin had suggested was downright ridiculous. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

So here he was, standing outside Jimin’s house at the crack of dawn, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. The morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of dew and freshly baked bread from a distant bakery. The neighborhood was still half-asleep, the streets empty except for a few early risers and the occasional passing car.

Jungkook glanced at his watch. 6:45 AM. Too early to be awake, let alone standing on someone’s doorstep about to embark on a potentially disastrous plan. He sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair before knocking on the door.

No response.

He knocked again, this time with more force. Still nothing. A frown tugged at his lips as he stepped back and peered up at the second-floor window. Jimin’s curtains were drawn, a clear sign that the guy was still fast asleep.

Jungkook rolled his eyes. Of course.

Taking a deep breath, he bent down, grabbed a small pebble from the ground, and tossed it at the window. It hit the glass with a faint tap, barely making a sound. He tried again, this time with a little more force. Tap. Tap.

A groggy voice groaned from inside. A moment later, the curtains shifted, and a messy-haired Jimin squinted down at him through sleepy eyes.

“What the hell, Jungkook?” Jimin grumbled, voice hoarse from sleep.

Jungkook smirked. “Rise and shine, baby. We’ve got work to do.”

Jimin let out an exaggerated sigh, rubbing his face before disappearing from view. A few seconds later, the front door creaked open, revealing Jimin in his pajamas, hair sticking up in all directions.

“You do realize it’s not even seven yet, right?” Jimin muttered, blinking against the sunlight.

Jungkook grinned, crossing his arms. “And whose brilliant plan are we executing?”

Jimin groaned, already regretting everything. “Fine, come in. But I swear, if this gets us arrested, I’m blaming you.”

Jungkook pouted, stepping inside. He had no idea if this plan would work, but one thing was for sure—it was going to be one hell of a morning.

Jimin led Jungkook into his room, the faint scent of fabric softener lingering in the air. The room was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the small bedside lamp. Without hesitation, Jimin plopped onto the bed, and Jungkook followed suit, letting out a tired sigh as he stretched his legs.

“So, how?” Jungkook asked, turning his head to look at Jimin. “Did you talk to your hyung?”

Jimin scoffed, rolling onto his side to face Jungkook. “Talk? Haha. Really? Do you think he’s the type to sit down and listen to me?”

Jungkook exhaled sharply. “Then? How are we supposed to do this?”

Jimin frowned, his fingers drumming against the mattress as he thought. “I don’t know, Jungkook.” He turned to face him fully. “Listen, can we—can we act like you’re in love with my hyung? Like, hopelessly, madly in love, and you can’t live without him? Your parents talk to my parents, and then—marriage?”

Jungkook blinked at him, utterly dumbfounded. “Woah, hold on. Do you actually think my mom is going to believe that? Especially when she knows about my relationship with Gyu?”

Jimin winced. “Yeah, that’s a problem.” He sat up slightly. “How about an arranged marriage? I will do something to make my family bring a proposal to yours?”

Jungkook shot him a look. “Huh? You think that’s possible when your mom thinks I’m the most immature creature to ever exist?”

Jimin huffed, pressing his lips together. “Aish, my mom doesn’t dislike you.”

Jungkook gave him a deadpan stare.

Jimin sighed, waving his hand. “Fine. She likes you—to the extent that she wouldn’t ever let her son marry you.”

Jungkook groaned, flopping onto his back. “Then what do we do?”

Jimin bit his lip in thought before Jungkook suddenly sat up. “Wait—can we talk to your brother directly?”

Jimin hesitated. “Hmm. Let’s see.”

“Okay, then call him,” Jungkook said.

Jimin gave him a flat look. “Now? He might be out.”

Jungkook frowned. “Out? It’s midnight.”

“Out at a club,” Jimin corrected. He sighed, rubbing his temples. “He’s not exactly a… stable person, Jungkook. If this weren’t about your dream, I would never let you marry him.”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

Jimin hesitated for a moment before leaning in, lowering his voice. “He…”

Jungkook furrowed his brows. “He?”

Jimin exhaled, locking eyes with him. “He’s a playboy.”

Jungkook’s jaw dropped. “The heck, Jimin?! And you’re asking me to marry him and leave the country?”

Jimin threw his hands up. “I said it’s about your dream!”

Jungkook groaned, running a hand down his face. “Ahhh, I hate guys like that.”

Jimin pressed his lips into a thin line. He knew it was a crazy plan, but right now, it was the only shot Jungkook had.

Jimin sat up straighter, crossing his arms as he continued, “Hyung had two girlfriends before. And now? I heard he’s having something with his secretary.”

Jungkook gave him a deadpan look, clearly unimpressed.

Jimin huffed. “I heard him talking to Mom.”

Jungkook raised a brow. “About girls?”

“No,” Jimin shook his head. “But there were girls with him when he called her.”

Jungkook let out a sigh, pressing his lips together. “Well, that doesn’t bother me. He has zero chance with me. I’m just my Gyu’s.”

Jimin smirked. “Ah, I’m not worried about that either.”

Jungkook squinted at him. “Why?”

Jimin leaned back against the headboard, tilting his head. “Because you’re not his type.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed further. “Excuse me?”

Jimin shrugged casually. “See, he’s not into the cute ones.”

Jungkook stared at him for a moment before breaking into laughter. “You think I’m cute?”

Jimin nodded without hesitation. “Mm. Cutest.”

Jungkook groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “God, I hate you.”

Jimin only grinned, clearly enjoying himself.

Jungkook exhaled, shaking his head. “Okay, cool. Leave that, anyway. Can you at least call him and see? If he picks up, then…”

“Then what?” Jimin asked, tilting his head. “Are you going to talk?”

Jungkook hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, why not?”

Jimin snorted. “He’s flirty, you know.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Oh. Like you?”

Jimin smirked, but then he shook his head. “More than me.”

Jungkook groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Woah. What am I getting myself into?”

Jimin pressed his lips together, clearly holding back a laugh. Instead of answering, he pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts. “I’ll just see if he picks up,” he muttered, pressing the call button.

Jungkook leaned in slightly to glance at the screen. The name displayed made him blink.

“Tiger?” Jungkook scoffed. “Woah. What is this? Is your family a zoo or something? One duck, one dinosaur, and now a tiger?”

Jimin barely looked up as he adjusted his grip on the phone. “Mom calls him bear.”

Jungkook threw his hands up. “See?! Another one! Do you guys have a whole jungle going on?”

Jimin rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched in amusement. “You’re focusing on the wrong thing here.”

“I think I’m focusing on the fact that your family has a weird obsession with animals.”

Jimin ignored him, placing the phone on speaker as the call rang. They both fell silent, watching the screen as they waited. The ringing continued, an almost taunting sound in the quiet room.

Jungkook tapped his fingers against his thigh impatiently. “Is he gonna pick up or what?”

Jimin sighed. “Knowing him, he’s probably—”

A faint click interrupted him, and a smooth, slightly lazy voice came through the speaker.

“Mmm… What?”

Jimin groaned, already regretting this. Jungkook just stared at the phone, horrified.

“Oh, woah. No greetings? That's so rude.” Jungkook whispered, but Jimin shot him a warning look.

“Hyung,” Jimin said, voice tight. “Where are you?”

A soft chuckle came from the other end. “Where do you think?”

Jungkook looked at Jimin with wide eyes, mouthing, Is he drunk?

Jimin ignored him, sighing. “Hyung, I need to talk to you about something important.”

Another low chuckle. “Hmm… You? Important? That’s new.”

Jungkook covered his mouth, trying so hard not to laugh at the sheer irritation on Jimin’s face.

Jimin clenched his jaw. “Can you just listen for once?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“On how interesting this ‘important thing’ is.”

Jungkook groaned, whispering to Jimin, “This is already a bad idea.”

Jimin rubbed his temple. “Hyung, just—”

“Oh? Who’s with you?”

Jimin froze. Jungkook did too. The words hung in the air, thick with an unsettling weight.

“Disconnect,” Jungkook blurted out, lunging for the phone. He barely had to move before Jimin hastily ended the call himself, the screen dimming as the call cut off.

They sat in silence for a moment. Then Jungkook turned to Jimin, eyes wide.

“What the heck was that?” he asked, his voice caught somewhere between confusion and mild horror.

Jimin blinked. “What do you mean?”

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “I mean—why the hell does he sound like that?”

“Like what?” Jimin frowned.

Jungkook flailed his arms slightly, grasping for the right words. “Like… like that deep.”

Jimin let out a small chuckle. “Oh. That’s just his normal voice.”

Jungkook pressed his lips into a thin line. “That’s not normal.”

Before either of them could dwell on it further, the phone buzzed in Jimin’s hands. The sharp vibration made them both jolt.

Jimin glanced down. His brother was calling back.

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “Oh, no. No, no, no. I don’t wanna—”

“Wait,” Jimin cut in, raising a hand as he quickly accepted the call. He switched it to speaker mode, and they both leaned in slightly, the tension thick in the air.

“Tell.”

The voice came through blank, flat—completely unbothered.

Jimin glanced at Jungkook, who stared at the phone like it was a ticking bomb. He swallowed before clearing his throat.

“Hyung…” Jimin started, shifting uncomfortably. “Do you… by any chance… have some time to… mm… get married?”

A beat of silence.

Then, a single beep.

The call was disconnected.

Jimin stared at the phone, mouth slightly open. Jungkook exhaled, his lips pushing into a pout as he slumped back onto the bed.

“Well,” Jungkook muttered, flopping onto his back. “I think I should just go back and study.”

Jimin pressed his lips together, processing what had just happened. “Seems like it…”

He turned his head toward Jungkook. “Is it?”

Jungkook groaned, yanking a pillow over his face as he tucked his head under it.

Jimin sighed, falling back onto the mattress beside him. “That went well.”

The next time, the duo found themselves standing just outside the kitchen door, peeking inside like a pair of mischievous spies.

Jungkook gulped. “Ah… your mom looks scary. Especially with that knife.”

Jimin’s mother was at the counter, efficiently chopping vegetables for breakfast, her sharp blade rhythmically hitting the cutting board. She looked calm, focused—but to Jungkook, she might as well have been wielding a weapon.

Jimin pressed his lips together, suppressing a chuckle. “Go and impress her. It’s about your dream, not mine.”

Jungkook whined, stomping his foot. “Impress? Like how? Should I—should I make breakfast or something?”

Jimin raised a brow. “You know how to cook?”

Jungkook immediately shook his head. “Nope.”

“Wow. Great. Then just do the dishes.”

Jungkook hesitated, stretching out his hands to show off his well-manicured nails. “Well… it’s…” He fluttered his fingers slightly.

Jimin rolled his eyes. “Oh. Right. Heaven forbid you break a nail.”

Jungkook huffed, lowering his hands. “I still don’t get why I need to impress your mom. Shouldn’t I be impressing Gyu’s mom?”

Jimin turned to him, crossing his arms. “Is Gyu going to get you to Lo?”

Jungkook pouted. “…No.”

“Then stop complaining. Start today. Set the timeline to a week.”

Jungkook hummed, thinking for a moment. “Hmm… should I attempt the language test again?”

Jimin glanced at him. “I’ll be leaving the country by the end of next week. So if you think you can handle everything on your own without me, then go ahead.”

Jungkook blinked. “…Oh.” He paused before nodding firmly. “Then, I’m helping your mom.”

Without waiting for Jimin’s reaction, he squared his shoulders and strode into the kitchen.

Jimin watched him go with a mix of amusement and sympathy. “Hwaiting.”

“Aunty…” Jungkook called out, plastering on his widest smile as he walked up to her.

Jimin’s mom barely spared him a glance before turning back to her cutting board. “What?” she asked, her tone laced with suspicion.

Jungkook blinked. Okay. No warmth, got it.

He leaned in slightly, murmuring under his breath, “Ah… now I see where that grumpy tiger got his tone from.”

“What was that?” she asked, sharp eyes flickering up at him.

“Nothing!” Jungkook immediately straightened, clearing his throat. “Are you making something?”

Jimin’s mom paused, shifting slightly to glance over Jungkook’s shoulder. Her gaze landed on Jimin, who was standing awkwardly by the doorway, trying (and failing) to look innocent. Her eyes narrowed.

Jungkook, oblivious to the silent exchange, peeked over her shoulder. His face instantly lit up. “Woahhh! Noodles!”

“It’s pasta,” she corrected, shaking her head.

“Oh.” Jungkook scratched the back of his neck. “I thought it was noodles.”

Jimin sighed in the background. Here we go.

Jungkook quickly recovered, beaming again. “Should I help you with something?”

Jimin’s mom stilled, her sharp eyes scanning his face like she was searching for an ulterior motive. “…Are you alright?”

Jungkook nodded eagerly. “Of course!”

“Did Yuna say something to you?” she pressed.

Jungkook frowned. “No. Why?”

“Nothing… You just seem… different today.”

Jimin coughed, turning his head to hide his laughter.

Jungkook huffed. “Aish, no, Aunty! I just—I wanna help! Move aside, I’ll do this.” Without waiting for a response, he grabbed the pot of pasta with both hands.

The next second—

“AHHHHHH!!!”

The pot clattered back onto the stove as Jungkook yelped, yanking his hands away. He immediately started fanning his palm, eyes wide in alarm.

Jimin’s mom sighed, crossing her arms. “That’s hot.”

Jungkook whined, frantically checking his hands for any burn marks.

Jimin slapped a hand over his face, groaning. He’s hopeless.

“If you haven’t had breakfast yet, go sit down. Let’s eat together,” Jimin’s mom said, shaking her head.

Jungkook pouted, looking over at Jimin and sending him a sharp glare.

Jimin rubbed his forehead in frustration. This was gonna be harder than he thought.

Jungkook trudged back to the living room, Jimin following close behind. He flopped onto the couch, rubbing his face in frustration.

“This is not going to work out,” he muttered. “Can you figure out some shortcuts?”

Jimin nodded, sinking into the seat beside him. “I’ll think of something.”

Jungkook sighed dramatically, pulling out his phone. As soon as the screen lit up, his eyes softened.

"My baby star. Rise and shine."

A fond smile curled on his lips as he ran his fingers over the text from Mingyu.

“You too, my Gugu,” he typed back, adding a small smiley face. Without a second thought, he sent a series of kiss emojis right after.

Jimin, who had been watching this unfold, wrinkled his nose. “Isn’t that… a bit too much?”

Jungkook barely spared him a glance. “There’s no less in love.”

Jimin rolled his eyes before snatching the phone from Jungkook’s hand. “Here,” he said, quickly sliding past Mingyu’s texts and typing a number into Jungkook’s contacts. “That’s my brother’s number. Text him.”

Jungkook blinked. “What?”

Jimin smirked. “Something cute. Like Starfish or Gugu.”

Jungkook scoffed. “What?”

“You have experience, that’s why I’m saying it,” Jimin deadpanned.

Jungkook exhaled heavily, clearly unimpressed. But he still typed out, What are you doing, Tiggie? before showing it to Jimin.

Jimin hummed in approval. “Mm. Sounds good. Can’t you add some decorations? Like a few hearts or something?”

Jungkook threw him a flat look but begrudgingly added a couple of purple hearts before pressing send.

He had to.

It was his dream to be in Paris, and Jimin’s brother was the only source at this point.

And so, he waited.

Five minutes passed.

Nothing.

Jimin leaned in. “Try calling.”

Jungkook nodded, tapping the call button. He held his breath as the phone rang—

But before he could even process it, the call was cut off with a short beep.

Jungkook stared at the screen. Then at Jimin. Then back at the screen.

“Wait a minute.” His voice dropped in disbelief. “Did he just—block me?”

Jimin winced. “Oh. He might have thought it was a scam… or that some lunatic was texting him.”

Jungkook groaned, throwing his head back before slapping Jimin’s arm.

“Hey!” Jimin protested, rubbing his forearm.

“I knew this was a bad idea!” Jungkook whined, shaking his phone in the air.

Jimin sighed. This was going to take a lot more effort.

"Jungkook, listen," Jimin started, tone exasperated. "If it were someone else, I would’ve put you on a video call and let them fall for your pretty little face. But the thing is—it’s my brother, and he won’t fall for your round face."

Jungkook gawked at him. “Excuse me?”

Jimin shrugged.

Jungkook groaned, running his hands down his face. “Ahhh, why did I even agree to this?”

Before Jimin could respond, a sharp voice cut through the air.

"What’s going on? I’ve been watching you both for a while now."

Both Jungkook and Jimin froze, snapping their heads toward the source.

Standing behind them in the living room doorway was Jimin’s mother, her arms crossed over her chest, gaze suspicious.

Jungkook panicked. “Noth—”

"Jungkook loves our hyung, Mom."

Jungkook whipped around so fast his neck nearly snapped. “Wh—what?”

Jimin’s expression was calm, almost too calm, as he continued, “Taehyungie hyung! Koo is hopelessly in love with him.”

Jungkook felt his soul leave his body.

Jimin’s mother blinked, looking from Jimin to Jungkook, her lips parting in shock. "What?"

Jimin nodded, his face the perfect picture of sincerity.

Jungkook, on the other hand, felt like he had just seen a ghost.

"Since when did this happen?" Jimin’s mother asked, still looking at Jungkook in disbelief.

Jungkook swallowed hard. “When?” he mumbled under his breath. "I am also confused. Since when?"

Jimin rolled his eyes. “You’re not confused, you’re nervous. Leave it.” Then he turned back to his mother, feigning seriousness. “Since long, Mom.”

Jungkook looked at him like he had lost his mind.

"But Bear never mentioned anything," his mother mused, frowning.

"How will he know how to explain these things? Maybe he’s waiting for the right time to talk," Jimin said smoothly.

Jungkook could only sit there, mouth open, utterly speechless.

This was not happening.

For five minute, Jungkook sat frozen, his brain struggling to keep up with the absurdity unfolding before him.

Jimin’s mother sighed, looking at him with an expression that was both stern and pitying. "Jungkook, listen. I see you as my own son, just like Jimin. These feelings..." She paused, as if choosing her words carefully. "This is just because of your age. It happens."

Jungkook blinked, his lips parting in disbelief. "Excuse me?"

"More than that," she continued, crossing her arms, "your parents had dreams for you. They always wanted you to marry a doctor, just like them. Don’t let their wishes go in vain, Jungkook."

Jimin, who had been silent until now, grinned mischievously at Jungkook. The teasing glint in his eyes made Jungkook want to throttle him. Of course, Jimin’s mother had no idea about Jungkook’s relationship with Mingyu. If she did—well, Jungkook was certain that her rolling pin would do most of the talking.

"I’m not saying my Tae is any less," she went on, shaking her head. "But he’s just a businessman. He’s not a doctor, not an engineer—"

"No, Aunty, it’s not what you’re thinking—" Jungkook tried to intervene, desperate to stop this train wreck before it derailed completely.

But Jimin cut him off yet again.

"Love is blind," Jimin sighed dramatically.

His mother turned to him instantly. "Then first go and see a doctor and get it fixed!"

Jungkook shot Jimin a deadly glare, silently swearing revenge.

"Anyways, let me call him," Jimin’s mother continued, pulling her phone out. "Tiger. I want to hear his side of this."

Jungkook's heart stopped.

He snapped his head toward Jimin, eyes wide with panic. "Wait, Mom! Not now! Let him sleep!" Jimin quickly interjected, sensing the impending disaster.

"Let me tell this to your dad first. And then I’ll call your parents. And Bear—" she exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "He’s going to get a good beating from me."

She turned on her heels and strode toward the bedroom.

"No, wait! Aunty! Listen to me!" Jungkook yelped, scrambling off the couch and rushing after her. But she had already disappeared behind the door.

There was a beat of silence.

Then Jimin hummed, "Oops. That was fast."

Jungkook’s eye twitched. Without hesitation, he smacked the back of Jimin’s head.

"This is not funny!" he snapped, groaning as he flopped back onto the couch, pressing his hands over his face.

Jimin winced, rubbing his head. "Well, at least now you don’t have to worry about hiding it anymore," he said, failing to hold back his amusement.

Jungkook let out a long, defeated sigh, dragging his hands down his face in frustration. "Hiding what?" he muttered, glaring at Jimin. "I don’t even know your brother! And above that—my Gyu?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "How am I supposed to explain all this nonsense to him?"

Jimin, still unfazed, leaned back on the couch with a smirk. "If you want, I can talk to Mingyu for you."

Jungkook shot him a sharp look. "You better talk to your own family first and stop this stupidity," he warned, his tone firm. "I’m going home. I have better things to do—like studying and forgetting that any of this happened. I step back."

With that, he spun on his heels and marched toward the door, leaving Jimin sitting there, watching him go.

"You’ll be back?" Jimin called after him, barely holding back a laugh.

Jungkook didn't respond, slamming the door shut behind him.

..to be continued

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