Lately Jungkook’s been going to Seokjin and Yoongi’s room when Namjoon’s snoring chases him out, if he aches from practice too much to want to sleep on the floor of the clothes room. But when he hovered outside their door tonight, he could hear the low murmur of movie dialogue. Which is a better sound than Namjoon snoring, but he just wants to sleep.
That’s why he’s hesitating just inside the door of the other bedroom, holding his pillow tight against his chest. The half-open curtains on the window above Hoseok’s bed let in some light from the city, but there are deep shadows over all the objects in the room. It’s silent, other than the low noise of traffic from outside, and occasional soft snores from the bottom bunk when Jimin exhales.
Jungkook knows that none of them would mind him asking to share with them. But Hoseok is a restless sleeper, and Taehyung’s top bunk is a hassle to get up to in the dark.
It’s been a while since he asked Jimin. Long enough that it wouldn’t seem like he’s … choosing Jimin on purpose, or wanting to … anyway, it’s been long enough. He’s sure.
He pads over to Jimin’s bed, stepping over the game controllers on the floor. He leans down and puts a hand on Jimin’s shoulder, using his other arm to trap the pillow he brought against his side.
“Jimin,” Jungkook hisses. “Hyung.”
“Mmm?” Jimin mumbles, after a long moment of no response.
“Can I sleep here tonight?” Jungkook whispers.
Jimin rolls over onto his back and rubs at his eyes with the back of his knuckles. He opens his eyes, squinting against the dimness.
“Jungkookie?” he mumbles. And then, “Yeah, s’fine.”
He wriggles over in the single bed, taking his pillow with him and leaving a narrow space for Jungkook.
Gingerly, Jungkook climbs in beside him. He tucks his pillow into place, then squirms down under the covers. His knees knock too hard against Jimin’s, and Jimin makes a small displeased sound. He hooks a foot around Jungkook’s calf to stop him from moving any more, and Jungkook stills.
Jimin’s already closed his eyes again. He reaches an arm over, blindly, and pats at Jungkook’s face. He gets Jungkook’s nose and mouth, mostly. “Shhh,” Jimin says, the consonants trailing off as he smacks his lips, halfway to falling back asleep.
Jungkook is suddenly sure that he’s made a mistake. He was so tired, and he can still feel weariness pressing his body down but now he’s not sleepy at all. He’s too aware of Jimin’s warmth next to him; the foot hooked loosely around his calf; the hand falling away from Jungkook’s face to land on the mattress, knuckles curled against Jungkook’s neck.
Jungkook can’t remember what normal getting-comfortable movements feel like. He lies stiff and motionless.
Jimin struggles up onto his elbow, looking down at Jungkook in the dimness. His hair is a soft mess falling over his forehead. “What?” Jimin mumbles blearily. “What’s up, is something wrong?”
“Your face is wrong, hyung,” Jungkook whispers, because Jimin brings out the six-year-old in him.
Jimin responds by pushing his pillow over Jungkook’s face.
Jungkook sputters silently, getting his hands free of the covers to push back against Jimin’s grip. Jimin immediately starts pushing down on the pillow in earnest, not-quite-silent giggles escaping him.
Jungkook can’t help smiling through his gasping breaths, too, as they struggle for possession of the pillow. It feels as though his chest is expanding, tight and too bright and warm.
Jungkook wins, dragging the pillow away from Jimin with a soft ha. He pushes it into the space between Jimin and the wall.
Over on the other bed, Hoseok rolls over with a plaintive sound.
Jimin’s eyes fly to Jungkook’s, and he looks first contrite, then firm. He jerks down on Jungkook’s shoulder, Jungkook’s elbows giving out as he thuds against Jimin’s chest.
Jungkook’s startled enough to be docile as Jimin manhandles his limbs, rolling Jungkook over onto his side and then throwing a leg over Jungkook’s knees to keep him in place. Jimin pushes a hand against Jungkook’s face again, fumbling until he finds Jungkook’s eyelids and smoothes them closed with his fingertips.
“Sleep,” he whispers.
Against expectations, that works. With Jimin’s head tucked under Jungkook’s chin, and his leg a warm weight, Jungkook feels his heartbeat slow and his body relax.
He’s dragged into wakefulness as willingly as usual.
“Jeon Jungkookie.” Someone is poking at his cheek. It’s a regular pattern of three long pokes and one short poke. “Jeon Jung-kook-ie.”
Jungkook flails a hand in the direction the poking is coming from. He hears a quiet, delighted laugh and his hand meets empty air. He tries again, more vehemently, and his hand is gently batted away. It falls back onto the duvet.
“Time to get up,” Jimin says. Jungkook wrinkles his nose in denial.
The bed jolts under him. Jimin is bouncing up and down where he sits.
Jungkook whines. This time when he flails, he manages to catch hold of Jimin’s arm. Jimin yelps in surprise as he’s dragged down flat.
Jungkook buries his face against Jimin’s neck, squeezing his eyes shut.
Jimin lets out a fond, breathless giggle. His breath stirs Jungkook’s hair.
“We have a little time if we take the last showers,” Jimin says, kindly. “But we do have to get to practice. Everybody else is up.”
Jungkook whines again, muffled against Jimin’s throat. Jimin’s still wearing the shirt he sleeps in, Jungkook realizes hazily. It’s too big, one of Seokjin’s originally, and it always slips off Jimin’s shoulder. The bare skin of Jimin’s shoulder and collarbones is hot and smooth and nice against Jungkook’s cheek.
Jimin has relaxed against him. He’s idly finger-combing part of Jungkook’s hair. Jungkook shivers, feeling warm and still hazy. He lifts his head a little, blinking at Jimin. His eyes are level with Jimin’s chin.
Jimin stretches his mouth into a weird U-shaped frown. Then he giggles, his mouth going soft and sweet with it.
And Jungkook – Jungkook spends a lot of time thinking about Jimin’s mouth, about kissing Jimin’s mouth, and he’s still half asleep. When he leans up and brushes his mouth over Jimin’s, it feels more like falling.
Jungkook’s upper lip catches on Jimin’s full lower one as he pulls away.
Jimin’s eyes are like saucers. Then he’s scrambling to sit up.
“What?” Jimin asks. He’s laughing, but in a winded way. “What was that, what?”
Jungkook’s eyes snap wider and he freezes. He feels like he’s just been plunged into cold water, but he still isn’t awake enough. He struggles up till he’s sitting, his head brushing the top bunk, and then can only stare at Jimin, dumbly, like a rabbit caught in headlights.
“You just kissed me,” Jimin says.
Jungkook untangles his tongue enough to say, “It’s your fault.” He can feel his cheeks heating as he speaks. “It’s only because you’re always asking me to kiss you on camera that I ever – that’s why I think about it! Because you’re … you …”
Jimin’s eyes are crinkling as he listens. His mouth curves, a tiny upward tilt, and Jungkook trails off as his gaze snags on Jimin’s lower lip again.
Jimin clears his throat, and Jungkook guiltily focuses on his eyes again.
“Jeon Jungkookie,” Jimin says. “You think about kissing me?”
Jungkook hesitates. He bites his lip and looks away, but there’s nowhere to look, especially when Jimin reaches out a hand and gently nudges his chin so he’s facing Jimin again.
Jungkook makes his gaze as brazen and casual as he can. “Sometimes?” he says.
Jimin tugs Jungkook’s shoulders away from the wall. Then he leans in and winds his arms around Jungkook’s neck. He looks delighted. “Reeeeeeally,” he says. He flutters his eyelashes.
It’s ridiculous, he’s being ridiculous. But he’s so fucking cute and so close and Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat as he swallows.
Jimin’s eyes go dark as he pulls away. The shape of his mouth is vulnerable, a bit shocked.
“Really?” Jimin says, hushed.
Jungkook thought he got it before, but maybe he’s seeing more than he expected in Jungkook’s face. Jungkook nods, jerkily.
Jimin draws in an uneven breath and leans in once more. He curls his fingers against the pulse point in Jungkook’s neck.
Jungkook shivers. Jimin tilts forward and kisses him.
It’s just their mouths resting against each other, at first, Jungkook’s too-fast breath stuttering against Jimin’s lips. Then Jimin moves his mouth, softly, opening a little. Jungkook hears himself make a tiny noise. He leans in, chasing the give of Jimin’s mouth. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, not really, but even as the kiss deepens it’s still slow and sweet and easy to keep up with.
Experimentally, Jungkook tries biting down gently on Jimin’s lip, then sucking it into his mouth.
Jimin makes a whining sound.
Then Jimin’s pulling away, breaking the kiss, and there are giggles shaking his body. His shoulders tremble as he tilts sideways, propping himself against the wall.
Jungkook watches him, uncertainly.
“Is it really that funny?” he ventures.
Jimin puts his hand over his mouth, his eyes wide. “No, I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m just –” He drops his hand, and his smile is sweet and disbelieving. “I’m just happy."
Jungkook’s chest feels so full it hurts. He bites down on his lip to keep from smiling too hard. It doesn’t really work.