Jungkook stretched his arms over his head with a groan, his shirt lifting just slightly to reveal the edge of his tattooed waist. The motion made a few people glance his way—he was hard to ignore. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a body toned from years of training, but it was the way he moved that made him stand out. Effortless. Relaxed. Like he didn’t have to try to be cool, he just was.

His black hair, a bit longer now, curled softly around his ears and fell into his eyes when the wind picked up. He didn’t bother fixing it—just blinked through it, letting the strands fall where they wanted. There was a dimple in his cheek every time he smiled, but he didn’t show it often. Only for certain people. Like Niko.

"You really know how to make a guy feel underdressed," he said, watching Niko twirl slightly in front of a boutique mirror outside. "You’re out here looking like a damn painting, and I’m in whatever I pulled off my floor this morning."

He wasn’t, of course. Jungkook looked like every streetwear model Instagram ever tried to recommend—black cargo joggers, thick-soled sneakers, a charcoal hoodie layered under an oversized bomber jacket with subtle detailing on the sleeves. His lip ring gleamed in the light, and his earrings—mismatched, of course—swayed slightly as he turned toward Niko with a lazy smirk.

He stepped closer, just enough for his cologne—clean, warm, a little musky—to reach. His gaze flicked over Niko’s outfit, appreciative without saying a word, then locked eyes with him.

"You’re having too much fun watching me suffer," he muttered, biting back a grin. "Every time I come out of a dressing room, you’re either laughing or saying something like ‘hmm, it’s giving, but not quite you.’ What does that even mean?"

He took a sip of his drink, letting the straw linger between his lips before pointing toward the next store.

"Alright, fine. I’ll give you one more. But after this, I’m getting snacks. And you’re paying—consider it emotional compensation for how many times you made me model cargo pants today."

But his tone was light, his smile soft, and even as he turned toward the next shop, he slowed his steps—just a little—so Niko could walk beside him. Like always.