Names- Jikook (✔️)

Chapter Three- Part Two

Jungkook's POV

"I am what I want you to want, what I want you to feel." - Linkin Park, Faint

The boy standing in front of him was definitely Park Jimin, and he was even cuter in person. Short, certainly, surprisingly so, but that didn't seem to matter as he squared his shoulders and looked at Jungkook with eyes the deep color of smoldering coffee.

"Are you Jeon Jungkook?" The boy asked in a high voice, sing-songy and light; perfect. He nodded his assent, tilting his head in the direction of the open doorway. Jungkook wasn't sure why exactly he had wanted to meet him so soon after they had discovered each other's existence, but nonetheless he swung the door a little wider and invited him in. Jimin ducked his head in thanks, bending down to untie his shoes. Jungkook found himself lost in watching the way his hair fell softly into his eyes, deep brown over the unblemished pale peach of his skin. His slight smile fell, however, when he noticed black lettering on the inside of the other boy's wrist that looked suspiciously like characters, though not the ones that made up his name. Jimin must have noticed him staring, as he hastily pulled the sleeve of his jacket over his briefly exposed skin. "It's nothing," He said pointedly, eyes daring Jungkook to ask. Instead, he simply waited until the other boy stood, then walked back into his house with him in tow. The entryway was dark; he had been forced to cut school in order to have Jimin over. He wasn't too worried about his mom being notified over his absence; she was usually too busy to care what he did. He had, in his haste, left the place a mess; the only clean place, ironically, was his bedroom, in which he did almost nothing but sleep.

"Um... Is it okay if we talk in my room?" He asked, looking back at Jimin. The shorter boy nodded, sliding his backpack off of his shoulders and setting it gently on the polished wood floor. He led the way, hoping the other boy didn't notice the rooms cluttered with his mother's supplies and workings. She made her livelihood creating advertisements for her company; Jungkook supposed it was only reasonable that her office was covered in half-formed ideas and scribbles.

He opened the door to his room, the wooden door swishing on its hinges into the dimly lit room. His bed lay in the middle, accompanied by a plain nightstand and a desk with an outdated computer he hadn't used in almost a year. Jungkook turned on his bedside lamp, allowing beams of light to flood the room. Jimin took a seat on the chair, swiveling back and forth with what Jungkook presumed to be nerves. He also sat, the bed creaking faintly underneath his weight as he turned to face the shorter boy.

"Okay," Jimin began, taking a deep breath. "I'm... not exactly out yet." His coffee-colored eyes turned downwards, as if embarrassed to meet Jungkook's gaze. "And if my parents knew..." He trailed off, tentatively meeting the taller boy's eyes again. "I want to see you, I guess, if we're really soulmates-"

"But what if we're not?" Jungkook interrupted, pulling the fabric of his sleeve up to expose the other boy's arm. There was something off about the name written there, untidy and jumbled, but he was right in thinking it wasn't his. "Who is this? Why did you lie to me?" He demanded, fixing Jimin with a hard stare.

"I didn't lie to you," He said, yanking his arm back. Sighing, he pulled up his other sleeve to reveal another line of characters, this time much more exact and uniform, and most definitely his name. "I'm lying to my parents. My entire community is pretty homophobic, so if they found out..."

Damn it. Just his luck. His soulmate had to pretend he didn't exist to his parents, and Jungkook would just have to play along. Attempting to hide his frustration, he gazed out the window at the sky. The sun was beginning to sink down towards the horizon, the pale blue of the heavens growing darker with every minute.