WHEN THE SEA IS ROUGH (ill hearts 2)

2

Jungkook

"You look like you lack caffeine."

"Good morning, Park Jimin. Nice to see you, too." I smiled as wide as my lips could reach. I didn't have the energy for more sarcasm that morning.

Before a thought about changing clothes crossed my mind, I dropped my bag onto the locker room's bench, and dug a can of sugar free orange energy drink out of it. Cracking it open with a hiss, I chugged half in one go, hoping for a speeded energy kick.

"Let him be," Yoongi said, fighting against a tangled shoelace. "They were probably up half the night."

"Shut the fuck up," I said, but cracked a smile. They teased me five years ago, before my relationship was even a thing, and the severity only increased since then. At the same time, I loosened up more, and laughed along with them, teasing back if I had a good comeback in mind.

Ever since my graduation, it was just the three of us. Hoseok and Namjoon joined a six-month training program in Los Angeles, and stayed there afterwards. We face-timed with them from time to time, before and after our practices (thanks to it I learned that time zones suck). It was strange at first, not to have five lockers occupied, but the lemon wasn't entirely sour, after all - the three of us who stayed in Seoul grew closer. The struggle of opening up to them faded away, and we became best friends.

Not much changed for Jimin, besides finding a girlfriend two years ago, but a lot changed for Yoongi. He stopped taking boxing as seriously after getting married three years ago. He still practiced with us, but always said he did it for fun. As well as matches he took part in (always magically winning), and working as a boxing teacher for kids. His career was always secondary to him, but he pushed it even further away one year ago, when his daughter, Sarang, was born. The most endearing baby I'd seen in my life. I was never obsessed with the idea of having kids, and the topic was never brought up in our house, but whenever I saw Yoongi with Sarang, I found myself wondering how would it be like to become a dad. I was 27, and I still felt too young to take on such a responsibility, but a man could daydream sometimes.

Gloves thudding against the bags and shoes squeaking increased as we left the locker room. Since a year earlier, there was a group of teenage boys practicing at the same club. Struggling to get along from the beginning, we mutually decided to avoid each other. They had their side of the club, we had ours, and no one ever interfered. Maybe Jimin, when the boys would exclaim their strange, yet hilarious sort of battle cries before sparrings. They were funny to me, but made Jimin clench his fists.

"If I hear them yell some shit today, I will throw hands," he said.

"Last one was good." Yoongi looked at me. "How did it go?"

"By my fists you shall perish," I said, and we both laughed again. We'd been laughing at this for thirty minutes last time, still figuring whether they were serious or did it just for fun. Jimin, not so happy, sent his elbows into our sides.

"What if we start using those?" Yoongi asked, putting a hand on Jimin's shoulder when he grimaced. "Kneel before your lord!"

"Feed them to maggots!"

"Just shut the fuck up you two." He groaned, but cracked a smile right after.

Our coach, Minwoo, with whom we were on a first-name basis since the three of us remained, caught up on the fact that Yoongi was able to teach, too, and often it was Yoongi leading our practices, and Minwoo ended up joining us. That day was just like that. The previous three months were full of tournaments and matches for all of us, and now we were slowing down a bit.

I paired up with Jimin, as we went for a series of punches. I was coming up with combinations for him, he made a few for me, and then we moved in for a sparring. I lost, but made everyone believe I only let him win. Just for the sake of teasing Jimin since there was no competition between us.