mister runaway | sope ✔️

my kink is communication (ii)

As Jungkook's eyes met Seokjin's, Jungkook didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Fortunately, his instincts decided with neither.

"Did you fucking kidnap me?" Jungkook nearly screeched, quickly leaping out of the bed. "What the fuck am I doing here?"

"Look, Koo—Jungkook, I can explain."

Jungkook scoffed as Seokjin raised his hands in the air as if to show surrender. He shook his head, already grabbing the nearest yeetable thing possible.

"I'll ask again, Seokjin," Seokjin flinched at the venom coming from Jungkook's voice. "What the fuck am I doing here?"

"For the record, it wasn't my fault," Seokjin managed to stammer, yelping as Jungkook threw the notebook that had lain comfortably on Seokjin's desk. "I can explain! I promise!"

"Please do," Jungkook smiled coldly, already grabbing the second nearest thing. "Because one second I was away from you and now I'm in your room. And not only do I wake up in your room, I wake up in your bed, of all the fucking places I could be placed. Geez, Seokjin, I didn't think you'd be the type to kidnap your ex's."

"Can you shut up for a second and stop trying to throw things at me!" Seokjin ducked as Jungkook threw his hydro flask at him, death enveloping Jungkook's eyes. "I didn't bring you here. I didn't even know you were going to be coming knocked out. I didn't do this to you. Hoseok and Taehyung, it was them. I promise."

Jungkook paused mid-throw, locking eyes with Seokjin. His eyes passed through Seokjin's face suspiciously, waiting to see if the elder was lying, or if he was telling the truth. Noting that Seokjin's expression ceased the change, he exhaled, carefully setting down the vase he had in his hands. Jungkook looked at him expectantly, crossing his arms.

"That does sound like something that they would do," Jungkook muttered, before looking back at Seokjin. "What do you want? I thought we were through."

It hurt hearing Jungkook's cold voice directed at him in that way, Jungkook's expression throwing daggers at Seokjin, though Seokjin knew that he deserved everything that he was receiving. Seokjin had been the one to fuck up, and Jungkook, though he hadn't understood what Seokjin was trying to say to him back then, was not at fault. Jungkook had just been respecting what he'd interpreted Seokijn had said. Now, Jungkook was back, in Seokjin's room no less, and now they were being forced to talk about this.

It was funny, to say the least, almost like a fanfiction novel— almost as if it were out of a k-drama, but instead, it was Seokjin's actual life.

How lucky of him.

"Listen, Jungkook, I fucked up."

Jungkook scoffed. "Well, no shit Sherlock. Not only did you fight with me without genuine explanation and end things through text, of all the goddamn places you could have broken up with me for by the way, but you also ended up convincing me to meet up with you so that we could talk, and you know what ended up happening? I stood there, like a fucking idiot, waiting, hoping that you'd show your face. You didn't."

As Jungkook continued to talk, his voice began growing unstable. Seokjin could see Jungkook's eyes starting to water, bottom lip beginning to tremble the more he spoke. If it wasn't evident that Jungkook was hurt, it was clear now. The thing was, this was all Seokjin's doing. Everything that had caused them to fall apart, was all his fault.

He remembered how he used to get mad at Hoseok for not owning up, but now Seokjin could understand why Hoseok was always hesitant. Even though Jungkook and Seokjin were in front of each other, Seokjin couldn't bring himself to speak. As jungkook began expressing every single grievance against him, he felt stuck to the floor, paralyzed, unable to say anything, unable to do anything.