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Jungkook's whole day was going bad— scratch that; his whole summer had gone terribly already.

July just had started and his parents were on his ass about moving in with Seokjin. Such a joke.

As he had packed his clothes and valuable things to take with him, he had nearly cried twice and strangled his poor pajamas out of anger at least three times.

Yes, he pictured both his parents and Seokjin as he strangled the clothing.

It was even worse when he loaded up the last box in his car. After he was all packed and loaded, he had nothing else to take it out on. Nothing but himself.

The whole ride to Seokjin's apartment, he took his time. Stopping by and getting himself some iced tea, purposely going a bit slower than usual, taking longer roads.

It only hurt himself to want to please everyone. Being an only child, since his mother couldn't have more children, he felt that he needed to make her happy, especially.

She's Jungkook's happiness.

Not right about now, though, as he pulled up to Seokjin's apartment building.

He pulled two boxes out of the back seat of his car and made his way into the building, trying his best to see over the stacked boxes.

When he got to Seokjin's floor, the seventh one, he set the boxes down to knock on the door.

The door soon opened, revealing Seokjin, who only settled his eyes down on the boxes.

"Took you long enough to get here," he complained.

Jungkook rolled his eyes and picked up the two boxes again, but furrowed his eyebrows as Seokjin snatched the top one from him, his eyes finally free from the view of only a box.

"There was bad traffic," he lied.

"Okay." Seokjin didn't sound like he cared at all. Just ended the conversation like that and headed back into his apartment.

Jungkook followed him. "Where do I put this? Where's my room?"

Seokjin turned back to him, his eyebrows raising at the question. He halted, only staring at the younger.

"Your room?"

It didn't take a genius. Jungkook knew what that tone meant.

He plopped his box of clothes in the middle of the floor and crossed his arms, hard glare on Seokjin.

"Yes, my room," he stated, his voice stern, but not as fearsome as he wanted. "I do have my own room, right, Kim?"

"Um." Seokjin placed the box on the back of his couch, which was positioned just perfect for him. "You don't need your own bedroom. We're getting married."

Anger filled Jungkook's body, fists clenching. "Are you kidding me? I k!lled my back packing all of this and you're telling me that I'm sleeping on the couch?"

"Couch?" Seokjin scoffed. "We're sharing a room. Don't be ridiculous."

"No. I'm not sharing a room with you. I'm not— I'm not sleeping in your bed. Are you crazy?"

"Of course, you'd complain." Seokjin sighed. "You act like a kid sometimes, I swear. I have a king-sized bed. We would hardly be near each other. Would you rather sleep on the floor? You're not wearing my couch out."

Jungkook frowned at him.

He thought that he was at least going to get his own bedroom. Thought he'd get to stay away from Seokjin as much as possible and ignore him by locking himself in his room.

This dummy. At this point, he's doing things deliberately to make Jungkook mad.

"Yes," he finally answered. "I'll sleep on the floor. Right there." He pointed at the empty spot next to the couch.

Seokjin looked at him like he was crazy, but Jungkook stood his ground, face showing no signs of joking.

"Fine. I'll get you some blankets, then, since you want to want to cry over something so little." Seokjin picked the box back up and set it next to the couch. "Have fun trying to find yourself a closet in the living room, Jeon."

Jungkook scoffed as Seokjin walked away, opening a door— his bedroom door— which he closed soon after he walked in.

He'd rather sleep on the floor than with that asshole, anyways. Seokjin thinks that his stupid apartment is better than Jungkook's was, but there's only one bedroom. What a joke.

Kim Seokjin is a joke.

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"Jeon."

...

"Jeon, wake up."

Jungkook stirred in his sleep, humming in disapproval at the voice striking his ears so annoyingly.

"Get up. This is hardwood floor." Jungkook whined in pain as he rolled over onto his side, shoulder and arm hurting. "Go to bed. Get off of my floor."

He grunted as he felt a light kick against his hip.

"No," he finally spoke up, "it's the weekend. Stop waking me up."

Before he even finished speaking, his blanket was being ripped off of his body, a loud groan leaving him as he finally opened his eyes, squinting up at the older, who was standing above him.

"Go get in my bed."

"Give me my blanket back."

"No." Seokjin kicked at him again. "I'm not in the bed now. Just go sleep in it, if you want to sleep longer."

Jungkook pouted, still tired and his body in pain, feeling emotionally drained as well.

Eventually, he got up, both silent as Seokjin led him to his bedroom and threw Jungkook's precious blanket onto it. He didn't speak as he climbed onto the huge bed, either.

The bed was bigger than Jungkook has ever seen. It's too enormous to be only a king-sized bed.

And as he sleepily pushed his face into the pillow, he noticed how soft everything was. But he also noticed that it smells somewhat woodsy— a stronger bit of coconut also in the scent.

He falls into the scent and soft pillow, soft bed, and he falls asleep in the early Saturday morning like that. It didn't matter that it was Seokjin's bed anymore. Didn't matter that he was falling asleep into the comfort of the unfamiliar smell.

~