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Jimin joined the relationship in 2015. Since trainee days he’d always found the other members attractive, and that thought only grew as they got older. He didn’t fully realize he was in love with them until Yoongi kissed him, sure and sincere, one night in his producing studio.
Later that night, he was crying, confused in his room, when the other members came in, whispering sweet words and peppering him with kisses. They assured him he would be fine, and shortly after Jimin was warmly welcomed into the open relationship with the other six, who pampered him.
Every night he received cuddles and affection from the others, making him feel more safe and loved than he ever had before. On a Sunday after a particularly bad day for Jimin during rehearsal, Seokjin made Jimin’s favorite meal, and Taehyung turned on Jimin’s favorite movie so they could all watch it afterwards.
It lasted three months. Three months of pure blissfulness and content. Jimin had never been happier with his decision to love and accept all six boys into his life. Each of them were different with him, and he loved it.
They all kissed different. Hoseok kissed like he danced; fluidly, quickly, and with skill. Namjoon kissed slowly, like he could never get tired of Jimin’s lips against his.
They all fucked differently, too. Yoongi was rough, but also caring, mumbling reassurances into his skin when it over. Jin was slow and whispered to Jimin the whole time, asking whatever Jimin wanted, and fulfilling his command. Afterwards, he would go to the kitchen and make Jimin a snack or wrap him in a blanket, laugh echoing in the room. Taehyung was quick but not necessarily rough. He liked to lick, and liked moving his large hands over Jimin’s body, feeling every inch of him. He especially liked Jimin’s thighs. And Jimin would never not love Taehyung’s deep voice panting his name.
Jimin, at first, was the most hesitant to have sex Jungkook. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to- because fuck yes he did- it was he wasn’t sure if the younger did. It turns out he did, and made it known by taking Jimin against the mirror of the dance studio one night after practice. Jimin was impressed and couldn’t help but think subconsciously that, of course, the Golden Maknae was great at sex, too.
It was also the little things. When Taehyung cupped Jimin’s round cheeks in his hands, cooing, or when Jin made Jimin a cup of hot chocolate exactly the way he liked it without him having to ask. When Yoongi ran his fingers through Jimin’s hair when he was tired, how Hoseok pushed his food onto Jimin’s plate when he thought he wasn’t looking. Jimin loved every second of it, even when they weren’t exactly doing couple things. Even something as simple as holding hands or laughing with each other during interviews sent a warmth blooming through Jimin’s chest.
It came crumbling down far too quickly for Jimin. It started one night when it was just Jimin and Hoseok alone in the house, the other members having gone out either grocery shopping or to the studio. For the past couple nights, Jimin hadn’t been approached for sex or even much cuddling, and he didn’t want them to think they had to be the one to ask him. So he approached Hoseok after he got out of his shower, finishing him stretched out on the couch as he watched a soccer game.
Jimin, dressed simply in pajama shorts, climbed on top of Hoseok, legs straddling his waist. He leaned down, propping his head up on Hoseok’s chest so he could properly look at him. When there was no response, Jimin persisted.
“Hobi,” Jimin mumbled with a sweet smile, poking at the others dimples. Finally, Hoseok glanced down and greeted the other boy with a smile, but didn’t seem to get the hint.
Jimin tried not to frown because maybe Hoseok was just being oblivious. He sat up straighter, and let his small hand wander across Hoseok’s tan chest, humming softly. He trailed over the others abs and lead his fingers down to the v line, which he traced, adding pressure to his touch.
Hoseok didn’t flinch, and kept his gaze focused on television. Jimin, being stubborn and thinking maybe he was playing hard to get, tugged playfully with the elastic edge of Hoseok’s sweatpants.
Slowly, Hoseok glanced down, but instead of anything else, he looked confused. Trying not to sigh in irritation, Jimin decided to get his point across directly. No more playing.
He sat back, and palmed Hoseok through his pants, grinding down softly a few times on the older. Hoseok didn’t look exactly turned on, and he wasn’t smiling, either. “I have to use the bathroom,” he said instead. Before Jimin could ask, he’d gotten up, somehow untangling his legs from Jimin’s thighs, and walked out of the room. Jimin pressed himself against the couch, trying to tell himself he wasn’t just blatantly rejected.
He doesn’t wait for Hoseok to return. He can take a hint; doesn’t want to annoy the other. He leaves the room and shuts his door with a bit more force than was needed.
Jimin gets rejected by Yoongi next. It starts off when Jimin ventures to Yoongi’s studio late at night, concerned for the rapper. When he enters (he finally got the password upon dating them) he makes sure to lock the door, just in case. He walks carefully up to where Yoongi is working, not wanting to startle him.
He comes up beside the desk, shaking the small food container in his hands to alert the other of his presence. Yoongi looks up, and smiles tiredly at the younger. “Hey, baby,” he greets.
Jimin feels warm when Yoongi uses the pet name, and can tell his cheeks flush. He holds out the container, returning the smile. “I brought this in case you were hungry, Hyung.”
“Thanks, Jiminie.” As Yoongi opens the box and nibbles on the cookies Jin made, Jimin opts for small talk.
“Aren’t you tired? You should come home.”
Yoongi shakes his head. “I’m not tired, for once.” He laughs. He closes the lid and sets it on the edge of the desk. “I’ll finish them later,” Yoongi adds, seeing the frown on Jimin’s face.
Jimin nods, and gathering his courage, rushes forward suddenly, sitting himself across Yoongi’s lap. He buries his face in the others neck, purposefully fanning his skin with hot, quick breaths. “Hyung,” Jimin whines, lips now pressing to Yoongi’s collarbone. He starts pressing chaste kisses when Yoongi suddenly pulls away, sighing.
“I’m really tired, Jiminie. I’m sorry,” he says, gesturing gently for Jimin to get off him. Jimin pulls back so quick it was like he’d been burnt. The other had just said he wasn’t tired, now it was his excuse?
Jimin gathers his coat in record time, not bothering to zip it before he’s heading for he exit. “Babe, wait,” Yoongi calls. Jimin pauses and sucks in a shaky breath before turning around to face the other, a fake smile plastered on his face.
“Yeah?”
“Are you okay?” Yoongi squints, obviously worried.
“Of course,” Jimin lies. He turns around quickly and leaves before Yoongi can get in another word.
Jimin wants comfort and gentleness and reassurance. And sex. So he turns to Seokjin, who he finds in the kitchen two nights later. He comes up from behind, wrapping his small frame around the larger boy.
“Hyung,” Jimin mumbles. “You smell good.”
He feels Jin shake as he laughs, then turns around. “Something wrong, Jiminie?”
Now should be the time Jimin tells him everything. How Yoongi and Hoseok rejected him, how last night Jimin tried cuddling with Namjoon, only to be told he was busy, and it would have to be another time.
How right now he felt really fucking insecure and bad about the whole thing, because did they really all lose interest in him that fast?
But he can’t. He can’t force the words out of his mouth; can’t deal with the reaction Seokjin might have. So instead he shakes his head and finds himself saying,”No.” He pauses then leans up, pressing his own plump lips against Jin’s. Jin responds; something no one else has done so far, and Jimin’s feelings are almost lifted just the tiniest bit when Jin draws back. He glances at Jimin before turning to the stove.
“I don’t want to burn the vegetables, cutie,” Jin mumbles.
Jimin likes being called ‘cutie’- he likes any nicknames or pet names the others give him. But it doesn’t fix the drop in his stomach or dry throat. Jimin nods, knowing Seokjin can’t even see anyways, and turns around, leaving dejectedly. He glances back once, looking over his shoulder hopefully, but Jin doesn’t spare him a glance. Biting his suddenly now trembling lip, Jimin rushes to the bathroom.
Jungkook isn’t good at feelings, Jimin knows. Sometimes he gets awkward or uncomfortable post-sex, when Jimin’s complimenting him or trying to cuddle while watching a movie. He’s better at using his actions to explain what he feels- similar to Yoongi- however, once Yoongi knows you well enough to trust you, he’ll surprise you suddenly with deep, vulnerable talks.
Jungkook’s different. He’s...Jungkook. In an interview the next day, Jimin slings his arm around the younger as he’s laughing, pressing his face into the others strong, lean chest. Jimin glances up, and sees the interviewer looking at him, so he says, both jokingly and serious,”Jungkookie’s so cute.” Jimin did this stuff even before he was in a poly relationship with all of them, so it’s wasn’t at all suspicious. He grins, pressing his palms to either side of Jungkook’s handsome face, when Jungkook pulls back, pushing Jimin’s hands away.
It might be meant as a joke, as the audience and interviewer laugh, but Jimin feels a chill run through him. He misses the warmth he used to get when he glances at the other members, knowing they were his. He was theirs. He felt sure, safe, and wanted in the relationship. Now, it was the opposite. He couldn’t deny it stung.
For the rest of the interview, he keeps to himself, only answering when someone speaks to him, and even then, he gives a short answer in return.
When they return to their dorms, no one notices. Or if they did, Jimin doubts they would care anyway. He goes to take his shower first, but pauses by the kitchen for a snack, faltering in the doorway of the living room as he passes. He sees the other six all stretched over two couches, leaning against and pressed to one another. Hoseok’s hand rests dangerously close to Yoongi’s dick, something Jimin wishes could happen to him. Namjoon is leaning on Jin’s tall shoulder, looking up at the older as he laughs with obvious love and adoration. All of them cuddled each other perfect - an even number. Jimin made it hard; made it uneven.
Jimin wants that. For them to look at him with love, like he was special. He had it. And then somehow he lost it. He doesn’t even know what he did, but he must’ve done something wrong. Or maybe they got bored of him?
He ducks his head and continues to the kitchen, trying to get the burning image out of his mind.
-
Taehyung, even before they were ‘dating’, was Jimin’s best friend. Jimin told Taehyung everything. And even if he couldn’t get the words out, he could express it and the younger would understand.
So when Taehyung leaves to go on a walk with Seokjin, Jimin goes into his room and changes into a bathrobe, turns off the lights, and perches himself on the bed.
By the time Taehyung returns, Jimin’s impatient, but he thinks it’ll be worth it; to finally feel the affection of someone else after two weeks of being deprived from it.
But when Taehyung turns on the lights and steps into the room, he doesn’t automatically grin or smirk or coo. Instead, he frowns, and before Jimin can even get a word in, says softly,”Jiminie, I’m not in the mood for sex.”
Ouch.
Jimin stands, and pushes his way to the door way, tightening the bathrobe around him. Now he just felt like an idiot. “Wait, Hyungie-“
Jimin ignores him and steps past, not daring to look at his best friend in the face for fear he might cry.
He blindly pulls on clothes and shoes a minute later and runs out the front door, yelling to anyone who cares he’s going for a walk.
When he returns to the dorm almost an hour later, everyone has returned. He can hear the bustle in the kitchen he assumes is Jin, the loud laugh that belongs to Hoseok accompanied by Namjoon, and he spot can Yoongi on a chair watching television. Where were the other two?
He passes down the hall, and opens Taehyung’s door when he hears a noise coming from inside. He peers in, heart dropping as he sees Jungkook and Taehyung frantically making out against a wall, Taehyung palming the youngest through his tight jeans.
‘Not in the mood for sex.’
No, he wasn’t in the mood for Jimin.
No one was. Obviously they didn’t like him anymore.
He shut the door silently, not bothering to interrupt them. He walks quietly to his bedroom, and when he shut the door, that’s when he finally broke down.
Jimin is curled up, hugging his pillow to his chest as he sobs, heavy gasps coming from his mouth as he hyperventilates. He can’t think. The only thing running through his mind is - they don’t want him. They’re bored of Jimin, and regret ever accepting him into the relationship.
And he didn’t do anything except be himself.
-
It hurts.
He’s always listened to songs with detailed lyrics of heartbreak, read poems with delicately described broken hearts, watched couple after couple split up in the shows he watched. Heartbreak was everywhere, even if you weren’t looking for it.
Jimin was shown time and time again how much heartbreak hurt, and now that he was finally experiencing it, he realized he had no idea just how much it really fucking hurt.
He thought maybe people were exaggerating when they said it physically hurt. But they weren’t. It left him exhausted; drained. With an unsettling feeling in his chest he wished would go away.
Despite being worse than he could’ve imagined, he couldn’t show it. He was an idol with an image to uphold, and more importantly, he was still a part of the relationship. He couldn’t bring himself to break up with them, but he could distance himself so it hurt less every time he saw them intimate together.
So he ducked away into his room before pre-planned movie nights and did his best to laugh during dinners, and no one seemed to suspect a thing. He wasn’t sure if that made it all easier or harder.
Because part of him secretly wanted them to notice, to pull him in their embrace with lingering kisses on his cheeks, promising him that they were his and he was theirs. But the other part of him won, because them not noticing was equal to them not wanting him anymore in his mind.
His hyungs were too compassionate to break up with him. Or maybe they just didn’t want to deal with a sulking Jimin, because then he would have a reason to be upset, and they would be the cause of it.
But pretending was the worst thing he could’ve done, and it left him with a hollow, empty feeling and rising insecurities.
It left him scrutinizing himself in the mirror before the shower, pinching at his lean stomach and wondering if he should go to the gym more. Did they want his abs more prominent, like Jungkook’s? Or did they want him chubby again, with skin they could grip and melt into.
It was driving him crazy, nonstop thoughts crashing into his mind daily. Each day a new reason popped into his brain, and he spent the next hour in front of the mirror with red eyes.
It was a torturous cycle that was slowly killing him, whether he realized it or not.
He refused to take his shirt off in front of the others under any circumstances now, even though they didn’t seem to realize. Not until he perfected himself enough to where they might want him again.
Jimin not be born with the skill of acting like Seokjin and Taehyung, but he was born with the skill of pretending. The others didn’t question when he withdrew, didn’t blink. He pretended during dance practice with sharp, focused eyes and relieved smiles.
Because he could pretend all day all he wanted, because he could give up the act at night when he fell into the shower, exhausted and with trembling hands.
And it was fine. Jimin was totally, totally fine.
Until he wasn’t.
He had finally left the shower after a long hour, cheeks red from more than the heated water, and stumbled blearily into the hall, fighting to keep his eyes open.
It was then that he passed the living room, and didn’t mistake the sounds that came from it. Hoseok and Taehyung were frantically rutting against each other in front of everyone, moans falling past slicked lips, while the others watched with dark, hooded eyes. Long forgotten, The Notebook was playing on the television screen. Jimin’s favorite movie.
He completely blanked out as the others began touching each other with chaste kisses and hushed giggles.
He’s not sure how long he stood there until he let out a choked sound. Before anyone could look up and notice him, he walked stiffly to his room. Locked the door behind him and silently fell to his knees.
He wasn’t sure what was happening, wasn’t sure if he was making any noise. All he knew was that he was hurting.
And he hated himself. Hated that he let them slip through their fingers. Hated that he was so...Him that they didn’t want him anymore.
He curled into himself, hands brought to his face, and before he realized it too late, began wailing into his hands. He wasn’t thinking clearly enough to question how loud he was being, or to think straight.
He sobbed loudly, the high-pitched, frantic noises bouncing off the walls and being thrown back at him mockingly.
In the back of his mind there’s a knocking noise. He recognizes weakly they’re pounding on his door, but he’s not going to open it. He’s not going to show them how weak, how disgusting he is like this, and prove to them that they were right to now want him.
They’re talking, screaming at him to open the door and it’s too much. They can’t see him like that. They can’t.
He lets out an inhumane noise and drags his hands up and down his arms, angry red marks left behind from his nails.
The door is thrown open, and Jimin looks up, terrified. They all stumble in his room, and the first face Jimin sees is Jungkook’s. He stumbles, face paling, before he takes a few steps back, mouth parting. He raises two fists to his mouth.
Jimin tries to scream to them to leave, to go, but all that comes out is a desperate wail that he can’t believe comes from his mouth.
Taehyung falls to his knees in front of him, hands hesitantly reaching out to grab his shoulders, attempting to stabilize him.
Jimin fights back at first, but he’s far too weak and exhausted. Drained, he gives in as the younger shakes him, others crouching beside him.
“-talk to us,” Yoongi saying, voice slow and deliberate. The familiar drawl relaxes him for a moment, and he realizes far, far too late that the pretending is over.
The others continue to talk to him, quietly asking him what’s wrong, and calmly telling him he needs to talk to them. It takes him a minute to gather himself, to get enough energy to say,”I-I’m sorry for worrying you. It was just a panic attack. I’m fine now.”
Namjoon stares back at him, absolutely horrified, and from the back Jungkook lets out a sob, shaking in Hoseok’s grip.
“Jimin, Jiminie,” Yoongi says gently. “That wasn’t just a panic attack. Not even close. Tell hyung what’s wrong.”
“N-nothing,” He can’t even try for a smile, is too tired, and doesn’t feel like bothering. He just wants it all to be over.
“Jimin,” Seokjin is rubbing his back. “Don’t lie,” his voice is strict, but fragile and shaky, and it’s because of Jimin.
Instead of answering, more tears start cascading down his cheeks, and he sits there, suffering in silence as they all stare at him with broken hearts.
“I hate myself so much.”
He’s cut off by Taehyung pulling him to his chest, crushing him. No one says anything. They let him cry until he slowly stops, and wait until his hands quit shaking before they speak.
“No, baby,” Namjoon is whispering in his ear. “Baby, why?”
Jimin’s voice is muffled by Taehyung’s chest, but they can still hear him. “I let this happen.”
“Let what happen, sweetheart?”
They let him take his time, but he’s stopped talking, just shaking his head as his grip loosens on Taehyung.
“Lift him up to the bed,” he hears Namjoon instruct quietly, and not long after he’s being lifted and set gently on the soft mattress. This is it. Where they leave him alone, leave him cold-
Two bodies press on either side of him, and he melts. Stops listening to everyone else after Yoongi says,”He needs to sleep first. He’s fucking exhausted. Then we can talk. His health is more important right now.” He shuts his eyes, the warmth beside him helping sleep take him quick, and he soon dozes off with tear-stained, sticky cheeks.
-
When Jimin comes to his senses, he doesn’t immediately panic upon remembering last night. He just feels defeated. He reaches behind him gently, fingers coming in contact with fluffy hair. That compared with the scent and the soft sounds means it’s Jungkook behind him.
He sits up, quietly as possible, and sees Taehyung less than a foot away on the either side of him. Hoseok is curled up in his computer chair, and the other three are resting on the floor. He feels a pang of guilt, but it’s nothing compared to the still hollow feeling in his chest.
It’s an advantage being small, he thinks tiredly, as he navigates his way out of the room without waking any of them.
He has to do serious damage control.
He turns on the stove and starts working. He’s not as a great of a cook as Seokjin, but he can easily make eggs and toast, and the others have never been exactly picky.
The clock says it’s almost eleven, which means he slept for a little over twelve hours. While his body is screaming at himself that he’s awake, he can’t be tired, he is. Mentally. It’s draining to think too hard.
He’s getting the plates on the table when the others members begin entering the room, staring at him with wide eyes. He pretends he doesn’t notice the way they all exchange looks.
Finally, Seokjin steps forward. “Jimin-ah,” he says sweetly, carefully. “What’s this?”
“Breakfast.”
“No, baby. Come here,” Hoseok walks forward, resting his head on Jimin’s shoulder. “Let’s go sit down and-“
“I just cooked breakfast.”
“We need to talk,” Namjoon asserts.
“Why?” Jimin is careful with his expression, trying his best to look guilty. “I’m sorry for worrying you all with my panic attack. I didn’t-“
Yoongi steps forward, and it’s like Jimin knows what he’s going to say before he does. “Cut the bullshit, Jimin. That’s wasn’t a fucking panic attack. You said you hated yourself,” his face becomes flushed, rare tears automatically filling the olders eyes. “You don’t just say that.”
Jimin bites his lip, sucks in a breath, but doesn’t reply. He knows he’s right.
“Let’s go to the living room, babe,” Namjoon ushers them to the living room, and Jimin ends up pressed against Taehyung’s side.
“Talk.” The leaders voice leaves no room for argument.
“You worry too much about my feelings,” Jimin frowns. “If you want to break up with me, do it. Don’t not do it because you don’t want me hurt.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“I’m not dumb, Hyung,” he still doesn’t look up. “I’m not dumb,” he repeats, softer.
“Jiminie-“
“I first noticed a couple months ago when no one would touch me. I-I thought you guys were tired of coming to me. So first I went to Hoseok hyung, but-“ He trails off, refusing to look at the older.
He just shakes his head. “Then I went to Yoongi hyung, to Namjoon hyung, Seokjin hyung. I visited Yoongi hyung in his studio. I told him to come him because he must be tired. Hyung said he wasn’t, but when I tried kissing him, he said he was too tired. All of you guys made some-some excuse. At first I just thought maybe I was crazy but then Taehyungie...”
He stops for a second, to control his breathing, because he’s starting to panic again. But no tears come to his eyes. Because he’s defeated, and tears won’t change anything. He can’t cry anymore.
“I walked in on Taehyungie and Jungkookie after Taehyung said he wasn’t in the mood. It just...it made me realize. You guys didn’t want me anymore.”
He continues speaking with head down, refusing to look at any of the members.
“I hate myself, because it’s my fault you don’t want me anymore. I must’ve done something or-or-“
“Jimin,” Namjoon’s crying. Jimin’s head snaps up.
As rare as it was for Yoongi to cry, it was even rarer for the leader to cry. “I love you. I love you. We love you, so fucking much. It’s my fault as leader we didn’t show you.”
“W-what?”
“Jimin,” his hands are taken by Seokjin. “We were worried we were rushing everything too fast, or that you felt pressured to have sex with us as your boyfriends because we were doing it so often. We didn’t want you to think we only wanted you for sex. We all decided no sex, so we could show you we wanted you for you.”
Jimin’s confused. This isn’t making sense. “But...”
“Jiminie, I know what day you’re talking about between us. You were driving me fucking crazy. And how could I not be turned on? Why do you think I went to the bathroom? The others would’ve killed me if I did anything with you after promising not to,” Hoseok exclaims, small smile on his face despite the tears on his cheeks.
“Really?”
“Of course. You drive us all crazy. You’re fucking gorgeous, and beautiful, and it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done not to touch you when you looked like that.”
Jimin finally looks up, heart beating rapidly, and hands shaking once more, but from shock.
“We’re so, so sorry baby. We love you so much, and I hate that we made you doubt that for even a second,” Hoseok mumbles.
Taehyung is shaking behind him, and when Jimin turns around he’s quietly sobbing. “Taetae,” Jimin whispers.
“I’m such a bad best friend.”
“Tae-“
“Can I kiss you?” Taehyung looks up, wiping his tears off miserably. Taken aback, Jimin nods.
Taehyung doesn’t waste a second before rushing forward and connecting their lips and kissing him desperately, making up for the time he spent alone.
“You’re so perfect. I’m so sorry.” In between each word, he proves his point with a peck to his plump lips. Jimin can feel Taehyung’s tears on his face with each kiss, but he doesn’t mind. He’s too busy melting in the his grip.
-
Things don’t immediately go back to normal. Jimin can’t just completely change his routine of thoughts like that, can’t just suddenly feel secure again with thoughts disrupting him.
But the nights when the thoughts do return and he’s quieter than usual, they’ll all pile in his bed without a word, pressing kisses on any part of his skin that’s exposed.
“We’ve got you,” they promise. “We’ve got you.”
And Jimin, slowly, begins to believe them.