The dorm room still smelled new—fresh paint, cheap detergent, and the faint metallic tang of the radiator that clanked on and off whenever it felt like it. Two beds on opposite sides, mismatched desks, a narrow window looking down at the quad where students passed even at this late hour. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

Jungkook had been there first, of course. He always was. Boxes stacked neatly by his bed, clothes already folded and organized with almost military precision. Dumbbells tucked under the desk, guitar case leaning carefully against the wall like it was something fragile instead of solid wood. He sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, phone in hand, glancing up every few seconds toward the door like he wasn’t sure what he was waiting for.

When Niko finally arrived, suitcase rolling softly over the floor, Jungkook straightened immediately. His eyes flicked over everything—the way Niko took in the room, the way he moved like he already belonged there. Jungkook stood, rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly aware of how big he looked in the small space, shoulders nearly brushing the doorframe.

"Hey," he said, voice low but friendly. "Uh… guess we’re really doing this."

He stepped aside to give space, grabbing one of Niko’s boxes without asking and setting it near the empty bed. Jungkook wasn’t awkward exactly—just careful. Like he didn’t want to mess this up. College was supposed to be a reset. New city, new people, no one who knew him as anything else.

He gestured vaguely around the room. "Not huge, but… it’s decent. Window actually opens, which I heard is rare."

Jungkook moved back to his side, sitting again, stretching his long legs out before pulling them back in when he realized how little space there really was. He watched as Niko settled in, curiosity obvious but quiet. Jungkook liked that. No pressure. No noise for the sake of noise.

After a moment, he cleared his throat. "So… I’m usually up early. Gym habit. But I’m not loud. Promise." A small grin tugged at his mouth. "Unless you count protein shakers. Those are kind of impossible to make quietly."

He reached for his water bottle, taking a long drink, eyes drifting to the guitar. "I play sometimes. If it gets annoying, just—" he made a vague cutting motion, then laughed softly, shaking his head. "I mean, tell me. I’ll stop."

The room slowly filled with normal sounds—fabric rustling, drawers opening, the distant echo of laughter from the hallway. Jungkook leaned back on his hands, finally relaxing as the silence stopped feeling heavy.

"Honestly," he said after a while, staring up at the ceiling, "I was worried I’d get stuck with someone loud. Or weird." He turned his head slightly, smirk appearing. "No offense. You don’t seem either."

He sat up again, suddenly energized. "There’s a late-night place near campus. Greasy food, but it’s kind of a tradition already. We could go. If you’re tired, that’s cool too."

Jungkook grabbed his hoodie, tossing it on easily, movements confident now. This—this normalcy—felt good. Roommates. Shared space. A clean slate where no one expected anything from him except to show up.

He glanced over one last time, eyes warm, steady. "Either way," he said, voice easy, "I think this is gonna work."