two sides; same story | jikook

Chapter 2: same story;

Why did talking to people have to be so hard for him?

Hand hovering over the doorknob, shaking slightly, Jungkook closed his eyes and tried to calm his heart rate. You can do this, Jungkook. Walk up to him; offer to help carry his groceries. You are capable of that. What can go wrong?

Finally Jungkook grasped the handle and opened the door, stepping out into the walkway. The stairwell was only a couple of doors down from his apartment; he could hear Jimin already cursing softly as a can of something clattered to the floor. Jungkook briskly closed the gap to the stairs and rounded the corner, taking a breath and setting his jaw in determination.

It took approximately three seconds for Jungkook to realize that his sudden appearance had scared the everloving fuck out of Jimin. Way to fuck this up, his brain screamed as he watched his neighbor stumble backwards and trip onto his ass with a squeal, grocery bags spilling across the floor and down the staircase.

On pure instinct Jungkook grasped Jimin's wrist right before the boy rolled too close to the edge of the stairs. He was caught between marveling at his own reflexes, and running away in mortification because how the hell did he fuck this up so badly—

Jimin flinched, and Jungkook's ears were assaulted by the harsh sound of cans tumbling down the concrete staircase. Before his brain could warn him not to, Jungkook found himself pulling Jimin to his feet. He gripped the boy's arms tightly, checking to make sure that Jimin's hands hadn't been scratched—oh God, this was all Jungkook's fault.

"Holy shit, I'm so sorry Jimin, are you alright? Oh shit, are you okay?" Jungkook's voice rose in panic and apology.

Oh no, Jesus, as if this couldn't get any worse, Jungkook saw the beginnings of tears swimming in Jimin's dark eyes. Shit. Shit. He had just made Jimin cry, hadn't he? What an astronomical fuck-up.

Jimin began muttering quickly. It took all of Jungkook's self-control not to fling himself off the balcony when he heard boy's desperate, distressed tone. "Yeah, I'm okay, shit, need to get the groceries—"

"Hey, take it easy, I'll help you," Jungkook interrupted, his chest filled with guilt. "Are you sure you're good?"

As Jimin's doe eyes finally stared up into his own, Jungkook's heart skipped a beat. Like, actually skipped a beat, embarrassingly enough—Jungkook felt like a goddamned middle-schooler with a crush on the cutest person in the class.

Park Jimin had that effect on people.

As the boy below him slowly dipped his head, Jungkook finally felt his fingers relax around Jimin's biceps.

Jungkook stirred his tea, watching the way the honey swirled into the liquid, causing little puffs of steam to swirl into the air. Until about five minutes ago, it had been an obnoxiously sunny day, birds tweeting and breeze flowing. It was almost startlingly perfect outside, and Jungkook had already taken advantage of the weather for a lovely run (trying to convince himself, yet again, that there was no possible way that Jimin had been watching him).

Suddenly, the sky had become dark with storm clouds, the barometer had plummeted, and it was the perfect day for a cup of warm chamomile.

Briefly strolling onto his balcony (he was fortunate to have one of the complex's few covered balconies—sometimes he enjoyed sitting outside in the rain, nose stuck in a book, roof protecting him from the precipitation), Jungkook heard a faint cry. His head snapped toward Jimin's balcony next door.

Jungkook nearly had a heart attack.

There, in the doorframe of the balcony next to his own, stood Jimin. The poor boy was soaking wet from head to toe, desperately pushing all of his body weight against the sliding glass. Jimin's own balcony didn't have a roof, and rain was absolutely flooding through his door. It took Jungkook a few seconds to put two and two together, but finally, he realized that Jimin's balcony door had been jammed.