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- @min-wifeu: jikook and 42
“I’ve lied to you about many things but I wasn’t lying when I said I loved you.“
best friends au | angst
The street lights flashed beside him through the glass windows of his car as he stepped harder on the pedal, speeding up past the limit allowed on the regulatory signs outside. His knuckles were white, hands sweating and sticking to the wheel’s leather.
He couldn’t fucking believe it.
Eunbi’s voice resounded in his mind like a broken record, the sneer on her laugh a pang on his throat.
“Best friends, huh? I wouldn’t be so sure, you don’t even know the places he goes anymore.”
“I do know. I told him not to go, he said he wasn’t.”
She laughed and Jimin didn’t know what to expect, but his heart skipped a beat anyway. Eunbi placed her phone in front of his face, a partially blurred picture of too many people on the screen.
“You seem like those stupid parents believing on their teenager son’s lies.” She teased, but he wasn’t actually listening. “So naive, Jiminie.”
There was a lot of people in the photo – most with cups of beer in hands, laughing and talking, not really paying attention to the picture.
But what caught Jimin’s attention was Jungkook in the background, leaning against a wall while a red haired girl kissed his neck. The only red haired girl Busan knew, the one who ruined Jimin’s high school life two years ago. He knew it was her, it could only be her.
A bitter taste settled in his mouth as he walked away, Eunbi being left behing while still talking.
He was so stupid. So fucking stupid, he didn’t know why he was driving to the park to pick Jungkook up. He should let him stay the night outside so his parents would find out about it in the morning and ground him. He fucking should. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t, because Jungkook was still his best friend, even though he hadn’t been acting like it lately. Jimin still promised to protect him, it didn’t matter what.
He slowed down, turning on the avenue and parking his car a few meters later. Jungkook was sitting on the grass, head ducked low in between his knees. Jimin wanted to punch him. He honked twice, palm pressed against the leather, startling the younger boy. He snapped his head up, so Jimin shifted his gaze, waiting for him to get in the car. When the door opened, the cold air of the night invaded the car, but Jimin didn’t spare Jungkook a glance. He swung the key on the ignition, turning the car around and getting them out of that dark street. The silence dwelled between them while he drove, Jungkook fidgeting the fabric of his pants in a way it just made Jimin’s jaw clench harder.
They spoke at the same time, but Jungkook cut himself off for Jimin’s voice to fill the void in the car.
“What the fuck are you trying to do, seriously? It’s 3 in the fucking morning and I had to wake up four hours before my exam to pick you up in the other side of the city, because your stupid punk fake friends left you all alone in the cold night.” Jimin paused to breath, letting the guilt and embarrassement sink in Jungkook’s gut, like he hoped it would. He still couldn’t look at him, eyes fixated on the road before them, only visible till where the headlights reached to illuminate. His blood was boiling beneath his skin, face heating up (ironically enough) within every breath he exhaled trying to calm down – heart thumping loud on his ears. “Is this how you want to carry your life from now on? Because if yes, please tell me so I’ll make sure I’m not a part of it.”
Jungkook was about to apologize, shame painting his ears red, when Jimin’s last words hit him. He clenched his fist, looking outside the window, bitterness menacing to flow liquid on his veins. “Not like you’re actually bothering to do so since you entered college, so.” He shrugged.
Jimin finally shot a glance at him, lips parted in disbelief to what he was hearing. “Well, I’m sorry if I have to focus in studying instead of fooling around with you all the time. I’m actually trying to get my life somewhere, you know.”
“Oh, please.” Jungkook laughed, tired of being played dumb. “You fucking know it’s not that, you’ve been blatantly avoiding me since…” His voice lost confidence, tone dropping and trailing off, his throat suddenly tight. “You know.”
“I don’t?” Jimin frowned, wanting to look at him, but the road being too dark for him to risk swift focus.
“For fuck’s sake, Jimin, we slept together. More than once, more than twice! I told you I loved you and you simply disappeared.”
Jimin gulped, cheeks flushing at the reminder of his childish behavior, but he wasn’t dropping the subject that really mattered. It wasn’t his fault, and to be honest, what a fucking nonsense argument to use.
“So?” he asked, momentary embarrassement already fading, replaced by his latter irritation. “Is this why you’ve been repeatedly lying to me? Because I backed off to have some space alone to think about what was happening?” He swallowed hard, a lump in his throat trying to hamper him from speaking, the picture Eunbi showed him earlier suddenly so clear in his mind. “Is this why you made out with the only person in this entire world I actually hate?” Jimin heard the pain on his own voice, his fragile facade of unbreakable dismissed. He didn’t find the courage to look at Jungkook, but by the lack of response Jimin knew he was shocked. “Seriously?” Jimin painfully laughed, tears accumulating in the corners of his eyes and blurring his vision. “Shit.” He whispered, rubbing them away and slowing down the speed, scared his temporary blindness could cause a disaster. “Hina from all people?” he dared to ask, heart shrinking at the words, weakly hoping Jungkook would deny, tell him it was someone else. But Jimin knew he wouldn’t. “She sent pictures of me kissing a boy to the entire school. She sent it to my father.” He tightened his grip on the wheel, the subject a trigger for terrible memories he had shoved deep in the back of his mind. “Have you forgotten that?” his voice was so weak, failing at the edges.
Jungkook was silent, a breathy ‘no’ escaping his lips.
“Then why did you do it?”
“I–“ Jimin heard him choking the word out. He was crying, but for the first time in his life, Jimin didn’t find the worry to care. “Hyung, I’m so sorry.” His sobs filled the silence around them. “I really am, I was drunk and I know it’s no excuse, but I think they put something in my drink and…” Jimin watched him by his peripheral, his own tears trying to cross his armor’s boderline – the one he put so much effort in building to protect all of his weaknesses.
“I told you not go…” But it was no use, he was already crying, Jungkook being the only sore point he couldn’t fight against. “Fuck, Jungkook, you told me you were not going.”
He watched the younger curl up on his seat, he watched him hug his knees and silently cry, shoulders trembling as he realized how bad he hurt Jimin, as he realized how their friendship was trembling dangerously close to crack, to turn into a wreckage.
They cried in the silence until Jimin reached Jungkook’s house, – only by muscle memory, mind wandering through too many places at the same time.
He parked, the blowing wind outside being the only sound singing on both their ears.
Jimin wondered if Jungkook was going to say something – do anything that would make him change his mind. But the younger’s mouth remained shut.
Jimin sucked a deep breath.
“I can’t do this anymore.” He exhaled.
Jungkook stared at him, mild panic forming on his features. “What?” he whispered with glassy eyes. “What do you mean?”
Jimin’s tears ran down his cheeks.
“I can’t tell whether you’re lying or not to me anymore. I can’t tell if… what you told me was a lie or not.” Jimin uttered with a dull ache on his chest. Two months ago he couldn’t remember a single time Jungkook had lied to him – now he couldn’t count how many.
“Hyung!” the younger breathed exasperated. “Jimin! God,” he choked “Listen, please.” He reached for the older’s wrists, making their eyes actually meet for the first time that night, Jimin facing him with needles on his chest. “I know I messed up. I know I… lied about many things, but please… Jimin, please…” he cried harder, Jimin’s own vision increasing its blurriness, “I never lied when I said I loved you. I swear. Please, I swear…”
Jimin closed his eyes, dragging oxygen to both his lungs and blood at the same time as he slided his hands off Jungkook’s grip. It was painful, feeling the warmth stick away, but he wasn’t backing off.
“It doesn’t matter.” He saw the breakdown in Jungkook’s eyes, the way he recoiled his hands to his lap with a hurt frown. “It doesn’t matter, because I feel like I don’t know you anymore. I can’t… It hurts being around you now, Jungkook. The awkward silences, the way I’m no longer able to read your eyes, it… it reminds me what we were, what we lost. I can’t do this.”
“Hyung…” Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut, cheeks shining with tears, unable to process what was happening. “Hyung, you’re… my best friend since forever. Please, don’t do this.”
“Exactly. We were best friends since forever and you managed to shatter this in less than a month.” Jungkook’s figure shrinked when Jimin uttered ‘were’. Jimin knew his words were harsh, but he couldn’t help being angry, the fucking picture still so damn vivid in his mind. It hurt him like nothing had ever had. Not even the spanking his father gave him after he saw Jimin kissing another boy on his phone had been so painful. Jungkook betrayed him without giving a single fuck for the sake of some mere seconds of pleasure he could have found anywhere. Which meant a couple minutes of getting his dick sucked was more important than Jimin’s feelings and mental state. That was not friendship, that was not them. “You feel toxic to me now.”
He shifted his gaze and heard the younger gasping, that statement being a dagger on both their hearts. Jimin fisted his shorts as his throat closed. “I need time away from you. Please leave.”
Jungkook was crumpling old drawings on his bedroom when he got a paper cut. He watched the tiny drop of blood forming, a shining red in contrast with the pale skin of his finger.
The memory crawled in without warning, 12 year old Jimin kissing the pain away from his palm when 10 year old Jungkook cut himself with a knife. Jungkook still had the scar. He brushed his bruised finger over it, leaving a path of blood on the skin, while wondering if two weeks away from him was time enough for Jimin.
He hadn’t heard of him since the day they fought, the following days after it happened being just as awful and especially more excruciating, the guilt and pain digging deeper in his skin within each moment.
He stopped hanging around with the problematic kids Jimin hated, he tried getting back to his studies – but his grades were still terrible, mind too distracted to focus on any thing other than how was Jimin doing. Was he eating well? Getting rest from his intense periods of study? Was he missing Jungkook like Jungkook was missing him?
Before his brain could make the most logical decision, his feet were already dragging him out of his front door, walking down the street till the blue house he knew so well. His palms were sweating when he knocked on the wooden door, heart almost jumping out of his chest when Jimin’s mother opened it, a confused smile settling on her lips when she saw him standing on her porch.
“Jungkookie? What brings you here?” Jungkook frowned, ignoring the pang on his stomach. He never needed an excuse to go there before.
“I… Uh… Can I… talk to Jimin for a minute?” He hadn’t decided yet what he was going to say, but he just needed to see his best friend’s face, even if it meant Jimin kicking him out of his bedroom and screaming he didn’t want to be near Jungkook.
“Jimin? He…” her smile seemed to tremble, the tone of her voice getting Jungkook anxious. “He didn’t tell you?” Jungkook took some time to process her words, stomach twisting with anticipation for a information he wasn’t sure he was ready to receive.
“Told me… what?” He could already feel the blood beforehand leaving his face, the tips of his fingers tingling.
“Oh, Jungkookie…” she looked away, partially embarrased and partially pitying him. “I’m sorry, but…” Her next words struck him with a punch on the throat. “Jimin transferred to Seoul. He doesn’t live here anymore.”