When you truly think about it, you've probably let Jungkook in in more ways than one. Being in his presence is tempting. He is a temptation that messes up with your head. It is one of the reasons why you think the so-called break has been a smart decision. But he's not all that. He is still the same Jungkook whose presence is comforting. It's times like these when you're reminded of how much you love your friends.
Catching up with him and talking about how the day has been for each of you, isn't something new. There's not that much that has changed. You only stopped fucking each others brains out. Though, you hate how much you already miss it. And you shouldn't feel like this. But you also don't want to overthink anything, or keep your mind busy with something that's probably better not to think about.
Your dreams have been wild, the only time where you actually go back to how things were. Not all of them though. Maybe two or three since the camping trip and your decision.
Despite the inner struggles, Jungkook is your comfort person. Oddly enough, even though he's in the center of your thoughts, he brings you the biggest peace and comfort.
Tonight wasn't planned.
Luckily, you're always prepared when it comes to unplanned visits. All three of them love to surprise you (not that you mind), so your cupboard is never without at least one bottle of wine. Not being a much of a drinker yourself on casual evenings, you still suggest having a glass or two.
Jungkook agrees. After reminding you of him having to drive back home, you suggest him staying over. He agrees again. Maybe him staying overnight might not be the best for your hormones, you are forced to believe in yourself. Isn't this the whole purpose of this? To go back to just being friends, the ones you've been two years ago?
When you think about those times, you think of happiness. Surrounded by the greatest friends you could've ever asked for.
"Mind opening it?"
Jungkook looks up, finding you standing in your kitchen with a bottle of wine in your hand, a wine opener in the other. Standing up, he goes to help you without any words but there's a slight amused smirk on his lips when you hand him everything.
You share a look, not forgetting to playfully roll your eyes at him.
"So many bottles of wine and still can't open any of them." he teases you, hinting at all the wine one of them had to open.
"Listen," you muse, "You guys always whine about wanting to drink wine."
"That's not true," he laughs, knowing that he's bluffing. "We would drink anything." he adds, which holds some truth to it for sure.
Feigning irritation, you motion for him to hurry. You watch him attentively, leaning yourself against a kitchen counter while he puts those muscles to work. He cuts the foil below the lower lip of the bottle, showing you how easy it is with a teasing tilt to his brow. Trying to hold back your laugh, you purse your lips instead before he inserts the screw in the center of the cork. He rotates it a few times, you're not sure because his eyes are on you.
"You're so cocky." you comment, his brows shooting up as he lets out an audible laugh.
"What? I am not," he argues, laughing. "You're just too amusing to look at."
He levers cork, at least he tries to because it seems to be stuck. It's going harder than usual, which you can tell from all the times you had the opportunity to see a similar scene. His brows furrow and lips press into a thin line.
You cackle, "Maybe you got too cocky, buddy."
"Shut up." he mutters, his muscles bulging as a pop sound resounds, signaling the cork is levered successfully.
