𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐑 || [JINKOOK FF ]

[5]

Jungkook wasn't sure how long he sat in his car, waiting for his heart rate to regulate. Should he call the police? What would they do, anyway? It wasn't as if there was anyone to arrest or take to the hospital, although he imagined the carjacker might end up in the hospital on his own volition based on the beating he had taken.

The stranger!

Jungkook got out of his car and looked all around him, trying to see if he could locate the man who had come to his aid, but there was no one around. He slid back into the driver's seat and pulled out his phone to call Taehyung.

His hands were so shaky, he dropped it a couple times before he could get a grip on it. Pressing the screen button, nothing happened. He pressed it again, and again nothing. “Fuck me, come on,” Jungkook exhaled, exasperated with his shit luck, and tossed the phone on the passenger seat.

He wasn’t sure how late he was at this point, and Kim Taehyung had probably given up on him and left already. Jungkook didn’t see the point in trekking the four blocks up to the restaurant just to have to turn around and go back to his car.

For all he knew, the carjacker was still lurking around. He pulled the door of his car closed and stuck the  key back in the ignition. Pulling out of the parking space, he headed home.

At the end, Jungkook Doesn’t Go on a Date.

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Back in his apartment, Jungkook locked the door behind him and tossed his keys across the kitchen counter. He went straight into the bathroom, took a leak, and flushed the toilet before making his way to the sink in his kitchen to pour himself a glass of water from the tap.

As he pushed the faucet handle back to turn off the water, nothing happened. Well, something happened, in that the water did not stop even though the faucet was now in the off position. He moved it back and forth, but there was no change in the flow of water.

“Come the fuck on!” Jeon Jungkook shouted at no one, watching the water drain down his sink. With no end in sight, his mind focused on the sound of running water, and he realized it was coming from more than one place.

The distinct sound of the tap in the kitchen almost drowned out the deeper whooshing noise of a running toilet. He took off down the short hallway toward his bathroom and recognized he’d been correct in identifying the sound.

The toilet was about half an inch away from overflowing. He jiggled the handle, and nothing happened, short of the water flowing over the toilet seat and wetting his shoes. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Jungkook Needs a Plumber, Immediately.  Jeon Jungkook lifted his legs high, trying to escape the impending flood in his bathroom. He reached for his back pocket to pull out his phone to call the landlord and a plumber but realized it wasn’t there.

Jungkook dug his hands into his scalp and grabbed his hair by the roots in an attempt to rip it from his fucking head. If he’d thought Kim Taehyung had bad luck with the Tesla, this was a whole new level of shit luck right here.

He watched the water begin to flow out of the bathroom and into the hallway, making the start of a river as it seeped down toward the bedroom. Jungkook skipped over ahead of it, running for his closet to grab a couple of pairs of pants and some shirts.

He rifled through the hangers, trying to find his favorite t-shirt, but it wasn’t where he’d seen it last. He grumbled, taking another in its place, and  waded back through the water that was quickly saturating his carpet. He stopped in the kitchen, making one last attempt to turn the sink off before grabbing his keys and escaping out the front door.

Once he was back in his car, he peeled off his soaking wet Converse and socks, tossing them on the floor in the back. He blindly groped for his phone on the seat beside him, and by some miracle of luck, it powered on.

As he expected, though, he didn’t have any missed calls or texts from Taehyung. He scrolled down to his landlord, Byeong-cheol, and called, leaving a message to let him know about the flood and impending water damage.

He dropped his head down against the steering wheel, dragging in a tense breath. Where the fuck was he going to go? He didn’t want to waste money on a hotel, the motels he could afford were places he didn’t want to stay anyway, and he wasn’t about to sleep in his car.

It was just his luck that Nam-ju was still in New York, and he wasn't close enough with Jimin to think about being that kind of imposition. Jungkook scrolled through his contacts, all six of them, before settling on one, taking a deep breath, and dialing.

“Grandma? It’s Jungkook. Can I come stay with you tonight?”