Work Text:
By the time he watches Jimin’s audition video, Jungkook has mostly overcome his fear of actually talking to the other members. He showers and eats in the dorm at regular hours of the day instead of at the dead of night and his initial shyness about his accent has worn off in the face of the other members’ – but mostly Taehyung and Hoseok’s – friendly satoori.
He still feels completely out of his depth while watching Namjoon and Yoongi work and he spends almost as much time worrying about debuting as he does practicing in preparation for it, but he finally feels settled. The constant worry buzzing under his skin has quieted, replaced by a different kind of restless, eager energy pushing Jungkook closer and closer toward his debut with the five other boys he knows and trusts.
Which is why Bang PD’s decision to add another member to the group pisses him off so much.
“Why’re you so annoyed about it? There’s nothing we can do now. Might as well hope that he’s good,” Hoseok hyung says on the way to the dance studio. “Besides – the more members there are, the more fans we’ll get.”
Jungkook huffs at his feet, kicking an empty water bottle off the sidewalk and ignoring Hoseok’s logic in favor of his own irritation.
“I just don’t want to get to know whoever the new guy is and have him mess up the group dynamic or whatever,” Jungkook whines. “It took me long enough to get comfortable with all of you guys and I don’t want to have to do it all over again. Also, what if he isn’t any good? Then it’s just a burden on us to teach him and stuff.”
Hoseok responds by grabbing Jungkook in a headlock, cooing at the maknae’s ineptitude at making friends until they reach the studio. Inside, the other members have gathered to watch the new guy’s audition video with varying levels of apprehension on their faces.
He – Park Jimin – is all over the place. Jungkook would have thought that Jimin was younger than him if he hadn’t stated his age at the beginning of the video, and the audition itself does nothing to dispel Jungkook’s concerns about having to take time out of his schedule to make sure the new guy catches up to the rest of them.
The other members find the video amusing, teasing Jimin’s bowl cut and high-pitched voice, but Jungkook just becomes even more exasperated with the idea of this Park Jimin guy joining the group. That night while they’re washing the dishes, Jungkook tells Hoseok with absolute confidence that Jimin isn’t going to survive the training process and that Bangtan will debut with 6 members.
* * * * * * *
Comebacks somehow manage to make Jungkook simultaneously grateful that he’s debuted and wistful for a life where he’s anything but an idol. He wouldn’t trade seeing the result of months of effort and the fans’ excitement for anything, but sometimes he wishes it would all stop for a little while – the 10-hour dance practices, the coaching of carefully crafted answers to questions about ideal types, and the relentless itch to chart higher, sell more albums, prove that Bangtan isn’t a failed investment.
After a particularly long day packed with multiple live performances of N.O, a radio interview, and a fanmeeting, Jungkook climbs into Jimin’s bed – his own overflowing with rumpled clothes – and lets out a long, shaky breath that signals the onset of exhaustion-fueled tears. He listens to Jin and Taehyung laughing in the kitchen and thinks about the other members practicing or working on new music in the studio while his eyes begin to sting uncomfortably.
He hadn’t been naïve enough to think that debuting would solve all his problems, but he’d thought at the very least he’d be happier. And he is, sometimes, when he looks out at a cheering audience or holds a BTS album with his name on it and feels a joy so fierce it almost hurts – like a balloon expanding to full capacity in his chest. But the rest of the time? It’s not exactly what he expected.
Jungkook wants to win on a music show. He wants BTS’s reputation to precede them, he wants to inspire someone to dream. He wants to live up to the “golden maknae” title. He wants to feel that fierce joy for more than a couple seconds, he wants to make his parents proud, he wants to see his parents, he wants to go home, he wants to travel to countries he’s never heard of and he wants to hear people screaming his name in every accent imaginable. He wants, and wants, and wants as hot tears roll down his face and sink into Jimin’s pillow.
The door squeaks open as Jungkook buries his face further into the pillow, unable to decide whether he wants to be left alone or comforted. Soft footsteps approach the bed and a small, warm hand rests carefully on Jungkook’s shoulder. He can tell it’s Jimin without looking – no one else handles Jungkook with the same gentle hesitance. Jungkook decides he wants to coddled a little, just this once.
He rolls over and takes in Jimin’s face, always so open and easy to read, crumpled with concern. His tears start coming down faster as Jimin gingerly climbs under the covers, slipping one hand around Jungkook’s waist and the other through Jungkook’s hair. Jimin, soft and a little sticky from dance practice, hums quietly in Jungkook’s ear until his tears have stopped and the only sounds in the room are Jungkook’s hiccupping breaths and Jimin’s wordless rendition of “I Like It.”
“Get off of me, you smell like shit,” Jungkook says without any bite. He takes a huge sniff, wiping his cheeks furiously as Jimin continues to run his fingers through Jungkook’s hair.
“No,” Jimin replies easily, his foot tapping out a mindless rhythm on Jungkook’s shin. A crash from the kitchen is followed by Jin’s indignant squawk and an unintelligible stream of words that translate roughly to Taehyung Fucked Up. Jimin and Jungkook lay in silence for a minute, chests rising and falling with each other.
“You know we all have no idea what we’re doing, right?” Jimin nudges Jungkook’s foot with his own. “It’s okay to feel overwhelmed.”
“I know,” Jungkook mutters. “I just – I don’t know. Do you ever regret being an idol?”
“Not really? I mean –” Jimin pauses, his face flushing slightly as he rolls on his back to face the ceiling. “I don’t really feel like I have a right to regret it.”
Jungkook turns to Jimin, confusion written in his furrowed brows.
“You’ve all been doing this, you know, working for this together as a group, for longer than I have,” Jimin says quietly. “I know I got lucky. I don’t – I can’t regret it. It wouldn’t be fair.”
Jungkook studies the sheepish twist of Jimin’s mouth, mentally comparing his initial impression of Jimin to the hyung cuddling him now. He turns his gaze to the ceiling, mimicking Jimin’s refusal to make eye contact.
“We got lucky, too,” Jungkook manages to get out without cringing too hard. “You know. With you joining the group. Like, it wasn’t just you who got lucky when you joined, it was all of –“
“I got it, Jungkook-ah,” Jimin snorts, a blinding smile spreading over his face. Jungkook glances at it out of the corner of his eye. Both boys lay on their backs, grinning wildly at the ceiling and sporadically kicking each other.
“You wanna go steal whatever food Jin hyung’s cooking while he’s distracted by yelling at Taehyung?” Jimin asks.
“Sure,” Jungkook shrugs. “But you should take a shower first. You really do smell like shit.”