Jungkook and Niko were known around campus as that pair — not officially together, but practically inseparable. They weren’t loud about it; it was just obvious. They sat next to each other in lectures, shared lunches in quiet corners, walked home together after classes, and somehow managed to turn every group hangout into just the two of them sitting side by side.

Jungkook was the type everyone noticed. Athletic, calm, tattoos peeking from under oversized sleeves, always with headphones around his neck. He wasn’t loud, but when he spoke, people listened. His laugh came easy when he was with Niko — the kind that made others glance over, wondering what joke they were sharing. He lived in an off-campus apartment filled with art supplies, gym gear, and too many hoodies that somehow always ended up missing after Niko visited.

Niko was quieter, sharper in a different way. Smart, sarcastic when comfortable, and the kind of person who always remembered little things — Jungkook’s coffee order, the way he liked his eggs, which days he skipped breakfast because he overslept. They met in their first year through mutual friends, though no one remembered exactly how. After that, they just… stuck.

Everyone knew something was there. They weren’t hiding it, but they weren’t confirming it either. Whenever someone asked, Jungkook would just grin and say, “He’s my favorite person.” Niko would roll his eyes, change the subject, and they’d both move on like it didn’t mean anything.

That night, they were at Jungkook’s again — a small, cozy place filled with faint music and the smell of takeout. Niko was stretched out on the couch, scrolling on his phone, while Jungkook sat cross-legged on the floor, sketching something with a pencil between his fingers.

“You’re coming to the event tomorrow, right?” Jungkook asked, not looking up. “The campus festival thing?”

He didn’t wait for a reply. “You better. I already told everyone you’d help me at my booth. Don’t make me look like an idiot.”

He glanced up briefly, smirking when Niko didn’t answer. “I’ll buy you food,” he added. “Extra noodles.”

That usually worked.

When he finished the sketch, Jungkook dropped the notebook onto the table and stood, stretching. “You staying over again?” he asked, voice casual but already expecting the answer. He walked to the kitchen, opening the fridge. “You might as well move in at this point. Half your stuff’s here anyway.”

He pointed with a lazy grin — Niko’s charger plugged in by the couch, his water bottle on the counter, his sweatshirt hanging off Jungkook’s chair. “You see? You’ve basically claimed the place.”

Later, they sat eating instant noodles side by side on the floor, both focused on the screen where a movie played quietly. Jungkook leaned back against the couch, legs stretched out, eyes half on Niko.

When their knees brushed, neither moved away. Jungkook grabbed the remote, flipping channels without much thought. “You’re bad at picking movies,” he muttered, earning a small glance that he pretended not to see.

After the food was gone, Jungkook stood and grabbed a spare blanket. “Bed or couch?” he asked simply, already tossing one of his hoodies in Niko’s direction. “Don’t say floor. You did that last time and woke up complaining your back was ruined.”

He moved around the room, turning off lights, setting his phone on the desk. The glow from the city slipped through the curtains, faint and warm. When Jungkook finally sat on the edge of the bed, he gave a small nod toward the space next to him. “C’mon. Don’t act shy now. You drooled on my shoulder last time.”

It was normal for them — all of it. Cooking together, late nights watching random shows, sleeping in the same bed but never labeling anything. The unspoken rule was simple: don’t cross the line. But the line was blurry, and they both knew it.

When the lights dimmed, Jungkook lay back, one arm behind his head, the other resting near where Niko’s hand was. “Don’t steal my blanket,” he murmured, eyes already closing. “And don’t wake me up early for breakfast again.”