Saved || A Jungkook fanfic

31.

So much for drinking responsibly.

I shook my head for what felt like the hundredth time, my gaze fixed on Jungkook as he slumped over the bar top, the weight of the alcohol pulling him under faster than I'd expected.

At this point, Taehyung and I were the only ones still sober, seated on the couch while watching the chaos unfold. Jimin, Jin, and Jungkook sat huddled at the bar, playing some sort of drinking game that seemed to get louder with each passing round.

"So, let me get this straight," Jin drawled, slapping another card onto the growing pile. "That handsome prince of the night is your brother?"

Jungkook groaned at the mention of Kai, his head lolling back as if the weight of that single thought was too much to bear. He lifted his glass again, only to realize it was empty, frowning at it as if it had personally betrayed him.

"Half-brother," he corrected bitterly, voice thick with irritation. "But yes."

The reminder made my stomach churn. Kai had come in the dead of night, not to visit, not to reconnect—but to spy. Under the guise of checking in for their parents, he had shown up uninvited, weaving himself into the night like a shadow we couldn't shake.

And now Jungkook was drinking like he wanted to drown the very memory of him.

Jungkook wasn't one to drink heavily. In the time I'd known him, he never let himself go like this. But since his brother's arrival, he had been all too eager to throw back whatever Jin handed him—whether it was his turn or not.

"Jimin, drink!" Jin barked, laughing as Jimin groaned in protest before downing the rest of his cup.

"I'm out," Jimin declared, tilting the empty glass over his head as proof before stumbling from the stool and around the bar for a refill.

Jungkook exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. "Unfortunately," he muttered, picking up where Jin left off, "he's a piece of shit."

The bitterness in his tone made Taehyung pause. He left me at the couch, tilting his head slightly as he approached Jungkook carefully. "Why do you hate him so much?"

Jungkook let out a humorless chuckle, the sound flat and devoid of amusement. He swayed where he sat, his usually sharp eyes glazed over.

"Because..." He struggled to find the words, blinking slowly as if the alcohol was scrambling his thoughts. "Because he always takes..."

His voice trailed off, and before he could finish, his balance wavered. His body tipped backward, dangerously close to falling from the stool and cracking his head on the wooden floor.

Taehyung shot forward, catching him just in time.

"Shit," I muttered, pushing off the couch to help. "If it's not you, it's him. I swear I can't win."

Taehyung shot me a glare, and I quickly mumbled an apology.

Between the two of us, we managed to haul Jungkook's heavy, half-conscious body up the stairs, his head bobbing uselessly against my shoulder. Jimin looked a bit concerned through his drunken haze as he slowly sipped his new drink. Jin, meanwhile, was too preoccupied with debating whether to text his crush to even notice. 

We peeked into a few rooms before finally stumbling across a guest bedroom. Taehyung groaned as he threw Jungkook onto the bed, watching as he landed with a soft thud before immediately burrowing into the pillows.

"He's out cold," Taehyung sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

I moved to adjust Jungkook under the covers, smoothing out the fabric of his shirt before brushing his damp hair off his forehead. He looked peaceful, his features softened in sleep, but something about the moment felt... off.