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moving days

Summary:

Park Jimin, 22. He's a dancer by trade, with a sweet smile to match his sweet charm. Notoriously afraid of letting love in, Jimin isn't expecting to find it at the bar in a club. Enter Jeongguk, the doe-eyed boy who manages to make the idea of opening up sound just a little bit more appealing. But just as Jimin doesn't expect to meet someone at the bar, he doesn't expect Jeongguk to ghost him the morning after he takes him home, either.

It's safe to say that when Jeongguk ends up being the new roommate filling the empty bedroom in his apartment, Jimin is nothing short of shocked.

Chapter 1: sticky

Summary:

“Look, you need a new drink, right?”

The spiller nods.

“So how about you sit right here,” starts Jimin, pointing at the empty seat next to him, “and you get us both a new one, considering mine’s empty too. Sound good?”

Notes:

hi everyone!! i’m back with a new fic!! before we start what's sure to be a hell of a ride i want to thank everyone who's here after reading (from yesterday, for tomorrow). i got such lovely feedback on that fic and it was really unexpected. on a similar note i want to just let everyone know that this fic is quite different!! or at least i think it is. i'm hoping to update once a week (i don't have the full thing completed right now like last time) but i am still in uni despite being in quarantine so my schedule might not be perfect. as of right now i have five chapters planned but things may change!! thank you for supporting me through everything, i hope you enjoy it!!

once again i have music linked throughout the fic to set the mood but if that's not your thing to listen and read feel free to scroll past. i don't think i'm missing anything else as far as opening notes go other that i'm excited for you all to read and for your reaction for this different style of writing and plotline!!

please do enjoy <3

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

mood: got friends – goldlink, miguel 

 

“Cheers, Minie! We fucking hated him anyway, so let’s have fun and worry about finding a new roommate in the morning.” 

These are essentially the only words that Kim Taehyung has said to him since they arrived. They were uttered approximately forty-five minutes ago, and Taehyung has since been body rolling on his boyfriend for the better part of that time, definitely not attempting to have a good time with Jimin. 

Frankly, if Jimin had a boyfriend who could move like Jung Hoseok can, he wouldn’t be hanging out with himself in the corner of a club, either. Abandoned by his two friends and cursing Namjoon for blowing them off to hang out with that “cool producer” he knows, Jimin sips his beer slowly, knowing it’s probably not a strong enough drink for how he wants this night to turn out. 

He lets his eyes wander the dance floor, taking the time to linger on Taehyung and Hoseok, looking too damn hot for their own good. They look happy, too; Taehyung keeps ducking down to plant kisses on Hoseok’s rounded cheeks, and Hoseok keeps laughing, warm eyes like sunshine. They’re perfect together – but Jimin’s known this for a long time.

He huffs a heavy sigh, picking at the rip in his light wash jeans. Downing the rest of his beer, he turns around on his barstool to order another round. Before he can flag down the cute bartender who was giving him a look when they walked in, Jimin feels the heavy weight of another body pressing up against his back and then, suddenly, the cold rush of liquid and ice spilling over his shoulders. 

Jimin shudders, his face pulling up into a shocked, pinched expression as he catches the sympathetic wince of the bartender. He slowly turns back around to meet the widest pair of eyes he’s probably ever seen. 

The spiller is biting his lip, now-empty glass gripped tight in his big, tattooed hand. He’s sheepish and worried, staring down at Jimin in his stool like a school kid about to be scolded for talking too much in class. 

“O-oh my god,” he starts, reaching out to pat Jimin’s wet shoulder but then recoiling before he can land a touch. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Someone bumped into me, and I just– holy shit. Your jacket is so nice, too. I–” 

Jimin just starts laughing, plucking the empty glass from the guy’s hand and setting it on the bar. “It’s fine,” Jimin says warmly. Yeah, he’s a little irritated that there’s now gin and tonic running down his back, but he was bored anyway. A little serendipity has blessed him, because not only does he have someone to talk to now, but he’s cute, too. “I’ll just get it dry cleaned tomorrow. Don’t worry about it.” 

The guy fumbles awkwardly with his now empty hands, wringing them together and biting down even harder on his lip. His big eyes blink. He’s really pretty, is all Jimin can think. “But– are you sure? You’re not mad? Can I give you money?” 

Jimin laughs again, brushing his black hair back and waving his hand around. “Look, you need a new drink, right?” 

The spiller nods. 

“So how about you sit right here,” starts Jimin, pointing at the empty seat next to him, “and you get us both a new one, considering mine’s empty too. Sound good?” 

The guy blinks like he’s processing, then smiles shyly as he nods. He plops next to Jimin, thighs straining in his tight black jeans when he sits down. He angles himself slightly turned away, clearly still embarrassed. Shooting his shot, Jimin places a small, gentle hand on this stranger’s thigh and smiles warmly. 

“Hey, listen. I’m really not mad. The only thing I’m a little bitter about is the good alcohol that was wasted.” The spiller’s lips quirk up. “Let’s just sit and chat, hmm? Get to know each other. I’ll start, yeah? My name’s Park Jimin.” 

Jimin pulls back his hand and uses it to prop up his chin instead, looking briefly over his shoulder to make eye contact with the bartender. 

“Yeah, okay,” the guy breathes with a heavy exhale. “Um, my name’s Jeon Jeongguk. I’d be… really happy to buy you a drink.” 

“Ah, great,” says Jimin happily, tipping his head back with a grin. “Then this works out perfectly, wouldn’t you say?” 

“Um, yeah,” says Jeongguk. He’s shaking his leg a little bit, and his eyes keep leaving Jimin. Now that Jimin gets a better chance to look at him, he notices the flush on his cheeks, probably from alcohol. His long hair has fallen in front of his eyes, and there’s a little mole beneath his bottom lip. Yeah, cute. 

“Are you here alone?” Jimin asks. 

Jeongguk nods, but his eyes dart away. He speaks slowly. “Just felt like… coming out, I guess.” 

“To get laid?” Jimin says bluntly. 

Jeongguk splutters with wide eyes, and at first it looks like he’s just going to blurt, “No!” but something overtakes him, and then he’s looking Jimin up and down carefully and replying, “Maybe. Depends on how the night goes.” 

Jimin hums as he turns to face the bartender who has finally come over to them. “I guess we’ll just have to see how it goes then.” 

“Yeah, um,” starts Jeongguk, his eyes suddenly very enraptured by the sticky surface of the bar, “we will.”

“So!” chirps Jimin, swiveling himself in his stool to look from the bartender back to Jeongguk. “Drink of choice? I hope you had some nice gin in that glass and not something from the bottom shelf.” 

The bartender stifles a chuckle. 

Jeongguk’s eyes are widening again, puzzled. “Oh, how do you kn–” 

Jimin laughs easily, tilting his head in Jeongguk’s direction and smiling, endeared. He might lower his eyelashes a little bit, too. “You spilt it on me, baby. I might’ve been a little shocked, but my nose still works.” 

The bartender stays watching them, amused. Apparently he doesn’t care about the other people waiting at the bar, instead choosing to loiter by Jimin and Jeongguk, waiting to take their order. 

“Um… I like gin and tonic, yeah,” Jeongguk finally replies. He shifts in his seat some more, his big, glassy eyes unable to make up their mind for where he wants to look. They dart from Jimin to elsewhere back to Jimin again. 

“And if I order you something fun, will you drink it?” Jimin asks, running his fingers through his hair. 

Jeongguk shrugs. “Sure, I trust you.”

Jimin has to bite his lip in order to stop himself from bursting into another grin that takes up his face. Jeongguk is just so cute. His long black hair is tucked behind his ears now, and the collar of his t-shirt is torn on one side but not the other. His long fingers keep pulling on the loose threads of his ripped jeans. He bites his bottom lip often. 

“Already? What did I do to get someone so sweet to trust my decisions so quick?” Jimin wonders aloud. He knows he’s probably pushing it a little, especially with the way Jeongguk seems so shy and hesitant, but Jimin never does this. He never lets himself have a drink with a cute guy at the bar, and he definitely never lets the flirting last for more than five minutes. But there’s something about Jeongguk that makes him want to be a little bolder. 

And Jimin’s only had one drink, so he can’t even blame it on the alcohol. 

As he registers Jimin’s words, Jeongguk covers his face with his hands. “Ah, well. You’re not making me pay for your drycleaning…” he mumbles, words muffled into his skin. 

“But you are buying my drink,” Jimin notes. He looks away from Jeongguk to make eye contact with the bartender, who he has now begun to take pity on for making him wait for so long. He flashes a pretty smile and adds with a wink, “Two gin and tonics, by the way. Tanqueray. And a cucumber!” 

The bartender just laughs, nods, and gives Jimin a flirty smile before heading toward the ice machine, and Jimin can finally devote his full attention back to Jeongguk, who’s got his head cocked cutely and maybe what looks like half a smirk on his face. 

 

mood: wait a minute! – willow

 

“What happened to something fun?” Jeongguk questions, amused but also curious. 

Jimin just simpers and places a fleeting hand on Jeongguk’s knee. “You drink it with me, it’ll be fun.” He allows himself to smirk, and he watches the show of Jeongguk’s blush slowly working its way up his cheeks. 

He eventually has to look away he gets so red, and Jimin giggles when Jeongguk exclaims, “Ah! How do you talk like that?” 

Jimin keeps laughing and decides to keep his hand on Jeongguk’s leg, the pads of some of his fingers touching the bare skin of Jeongguk’s leg through the rips in his jeans. He really says fuck it now, abandoning his filter and deciding to shoot his shot. Jeongguk is too cute not to try , at least. “Like what? Flirting with you?” 

“Oh,” Jeongguk blurts. He places a hand on his own thigh and one of his fingers brushes Jimin’s. “Are you?”

The bartender sets their drinks in front of them, and something tells Jimin that he knows they can worry about the tab later. He reaches for his immediately, taking a long sip from the two tiny cocktail straws coming out of the lowball. “I am, Jeongguk-ah. That okay?” 

Jeongguk takes a sip of his own, face blank as he decides how to reply. “Yeah, I think so.” 

Jimin smiles softly and squeezes his knee. “Just relax, hm? I’m glad you’re with me.” He chuckles softly and looks vaguely over his shoulder at the dance floor. “I was abandoned by my two best friends while they basically fuck on the dance floor.” 

Jeongguk’s eyes widen, but Jimin interrupts before he can comment. 

“Don’t worry, they’re good dancers.” 

And then Jeongguk’s laughing, a big smile taking over his face, dimples gracing his cheeks, broad shoulders shaking. Jimin decides immediately that all of his excessiveness is worth it if it’s going to get this guy to loosen up. 

“So Jeongguk-ssi, tell me about yourself,” Jimin says in a low, goofy voice. 

“I thought you were flirting with me,” Jeongguk counters cheekily, clearly unimpressed with Jimin’s small talk. A sense of confidence has suddenly graced him, and his shoulders are a little squarer, jaw a little sharper. 

“Ohh,” Jimin intones, swirling his drink around. “He’s got a mouth on him.” 

“... Sometimes,” Jeongguk murmurs, smiling. 

Jimin returns it. He taps his fingers on Jeongguk’s knee, where they still rest. Jeongguk doesn’t seem to mind. “So are you gonna answer my question, or is it not good enough for you, Jeongguk-ssi?” 

“Oh right,” Jeongguk murmurs. “I guess. What do you want to know?” 

Jimin smiles coyly, shrugs. “Whatever you feel like sharing with a stranger at the bar.” 

Jeongguk seems to think it over somewhat carefully, lifting his drink to his mouth to bite at the straw. “Umm… well. I’m in uni. I study marketing? I guess? Yeah, that’s my major anyway.” 

Jimin giggles at him a little bit more, too charmed for his own good. “You seem unsure,” he teases. 

Jeongguk bites the inside of his cheek. “Well, I’m not always sure that it’s what I want to do, you know?” 

Jimin nods assuringly, feeling a wave of mutual understanding wash over him. It’s fun to flirt, but he also decides that someone as earnest as Jeongguk might be the kind of guy Jimin wants to be honest with. “Yes, I know. I feel that way, too, really.” 

“What do you study?” asks Jeongguk, but he backtracks, sputtering, “I mean, are you in school?” 

Jimin smiles again – his face might start to hurt around this kid – and nods. “Yeah, I am. I do dance. Hip hop.” 

“Is that why your friends are good dancers?” Jeongguk blurts, looking back toward the dancefloor as if he already knows who Hoseok and Taehyung are. 

Jimin laughs, wondering if he’s even crossing his friends’ minds at all now, or if Hoseok is already drunk off his half a drink and Taehyung is getting him to start popping amongst all the horny students dancing on each other. At any rate, Jeongguk is certainly paying attention to Jimin and the details he’s shared in passing. “Yeah, one of them. And the other would just do anything to grind on his boyfriend.” He pauses thoughtfully, thinking of the way they dance together, whether it be in their living room or when Taehyung comes to interrupt their practice with dumplings. “Doesn’t help that he can move his hips.” 

Jeongguk laughs. “But– wait. Do you not like to dance? If you said you’re not sure it’s what you want to do.” 

“No!” Jimin denies. “I love it. And hip hop is great. I just… sometimes I wish I could do some other styles of dance that I prefer or feel more connected to, but I know I’ll have more job opportunities in hip hop with the way the industry is set up and growing, so– hip hop it is. It’s really not bad at all. I have my partner who’s amazing, and we work really well together.” 

Jeongguk smirks. “Is he one of the ones humping on the dance floor?” 

Jimin snorts. “Actually, yes. Hoseok-hyung… he supports me.” He chuckles awkwardly and waves a hand around. “Anyway, enough of that.” 

Jeongguk’s face, ever-expressive, remains open but grows concerned. “We can talk about it if you want. I really get it.” 

Jimin just makes a face and shrugs. “Ah, what can be done, y’know? I’m almost done with school as it is. I have a question, anyway. Why marketing? I’m curious.” 

Jeongguk’s expression suddenly goes blank, and he stares at Jimin as he deadpans, “Because we live in a globalized, digital era in which all successful businesses rely on online and customized outreach in order to sustain an engaged and supportive customer base that regularly consumes a product or service.” 

Jimin gapes, his drink frozen an inch from his face. “Um–”

Then Jeongguk is laughing awkwardly, that blush returning. “Sorry, I think I’m funny sometimes.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Oh my god, I’m so awkward–” 

Jimin starts to giggle, and he dares to lean his head on Jeongguk’s shoulder to look up at him. “You’re really cute, do you get that a lot?” 

Jeongguk blanches, and Jimin lifts his head away to get a better look at his pretty face. “Um, well. My hyungs will call me cute sometimes but it’s usually right before they smack or scold me.” 

Jimin giggles again. “I’ll play nice then.” 

Jeongguk blushes again, and his finger twitches on his leg, overlapping Jimin’s smaller one. “Um, I was joking before, like I said. I do marketing because I felt like being practical was the right choice when choosing a major. My parents didn’t like, force me or anything, but I don’t wanna rely on them forever, and I feel like this gives me a way to still be artistic while also. Y’know. Being businessy?” 

Jimin smiles, utterly endeared. “I think I get it. I don’t know what I’d do if I wasn’t studying art, though.” 

Jeongguk sighs. His leg starts to jump up and down. “Yeah, I think I envy you. My closest friends are artists, too, so I can’t say I don’t get a little jealous sometimes.”

Jimin wants to reach out to touch him, comfort him more than a flirty hand on his knee, but he just holds his gaze and speaks softly instead. “Make time for it, yeah? You owe it to yourself.”

“What do you mean?” Jeongguk asks. 

Jimin just speaks like it’s matter of fact. There’s no other way for him to put it, not to mention he’s unsure of how much advice he should be giving to someone he’s just met. It wouldn’t be the first time his empathy has led him to cross that sort of invisible boundary. He always has this itch to reach out and help, even though most people tend to turn it away. “If you wanna make art, you should. Even if it’s a little bit at a time.” 

Jeongguk nods. His leg stills. Maybe Jimin’s simple reminder was enough. “Yeah, you’re right. I– um. Sometimes I sing in the shower?” 

Jimin laughs again. He could eat this boy up. “God, you’re so cute. How old are you again?” 

“20,” replies Jeongguk. 

“Even cuter,” Jimin says. He takes his hand off of Jeongguk’s leg to dance his fingers on Jeongguk’s forearm for a second, then pokes his bicep, rounded with muscle even through the fabric of his leather jacket. “I’m your hyung then.” 

Jeongguk’s eyes widen, sheepish. “Oh, sorry if I was rude.” 

 

mood: got it good – kaytranada, craig david

 

“You’re fine, Jeongguk,” Jimin says warmly. “You’re really so lovely. I sweet-talked you into buying me a drink and you’re still being all polite.” 

“I spilled on your jacket,” Jeongguk reminds gently, pouting. He leans back in his barstool to get a better look at Jimin’s jacket, now mostly dry, unstained because of the color of the drink. 

“I honestly almost forgot about that,” Jimin notes, now shifting in his clothes after thinking about it again. 

“Aren’t you sticky?” Jeongguk asks. 

Jimin shrugs and sips his gin. It’s almost empty. He gets the feeling they’ll probably be getting through a few more together. “A little. It’s just not what I’ve been thinking about, y’know?” He cocks his head, eyes glinting. 

Jeongguk meets his gaze, and his pretty black eyes sparkle as he runs his tongue slowly across his lip. “Yeah, I think I do, hyung. Anyway, now we can be sticky together.” 

Jimin ends up paying for the first round of drinks and however many end up coming afterward. He claims his generosity stems from the fact that he’s older, but he mostly just wants to show Jeongguk a good time. As they drink, Jeongguk loosens up, figuratively and literally. He becomes a little less jumpy, his shoulders sinking away from his jaw and his leg slowing its relentless shake. He laughs more easily – still blushing, but owning it. He prods at Jimin, too, busting out a cheeky sense of humor and somewhat of a quick tongue. 

Jimin knew he was gorgeous from the start, but when he sheds his jacket to hang on a hook beneath the bar, he looks somewhat unreal, with a sleeve of tattoos disappearing into the cuffed arm of his tee and little waist shown off with where his shirt is belted into his pants. He’s tall and muscular, but he looks young when he smiles and his laugh drips easy like honey. The more alcohol Jimin has, the more effortless it becomes just to sit back and watch him, relishing in the way the gin makes time seem to slow and grants him permission to focus on the way Jeongguk’s neck looks when he smiles or how his fingers card gently through his own wavy hair. 

What’s best is that talking to Jeongguk is like talking to an old friend. As soon as that exterior of him is broken down, he’s this goofy, excitable thing who goes on tangents about color schemes and video games, who tells stories about making music with his friends, who pauses in his sentences to grin at Jimin or pull a funny face. He knows they both have a little bit of lessened pressure from the energy of the bar and the sharpness of the Tanqueray, but Jimin thinks if this were a guy he’d stumbled into at the library or at a coffee shop, fate would have eased them to talking like this anyway. 

And when he has that thought, it doesn’t leave him with a sour taste in his mouth. It doesn’t scare him, like it normally would. He doesn’t even want to shake it off or wash it down. He only rolls around the sweet, refreshing flavor of the cucumber on his tongue and allows himself to consider how long it’s been since he’s had a thought like that at all. 

He just takes another sip of his drink, and when he lays his palm upward on the sticky bar, he just giggles as Jeongguk takes his hand to play with his fingers, calling him tiny and letting their hands meet face to face. 

“My hand could eat your hand,” Jeongguk giggles. He’s curling his fingers over the tops of Jimin’s, doing a pretty effective job of swallowing them. He’s far drunker than he was when he first sat down, cheeks red, smile somehow wider, stool much closer to Jimin’s so that their thighs stay touching at all times. His other big, tattooed hand has found its way onto Jimin’s leg rather than the other way around, and it keeps creeping higher and higher up the light wash of Jimin’s tight jeans. 

Jimin giggles back, covering his own mouth with his free hand and lacing their fingers together. “Well tell your hand to stop,” Jimin mutters. “I need these.” 

“For what?” Jeongguk whines. “You don’t need hands to dance. Not really anyway.”

Jimin snorts at him, knowing he could easily argue on that for at least an hour, but he’d rather play along, enjoying his buzz far too much to not continue to flirt with Jeongguk like he has for the past hour or so. “Hmm, let’s think. Holding hands with cute boys,” he starts, squeezing Jeongguk’s fingers. “Sipping my drink,” he adds, doing exactly that and ignoring the way Jeongguk mutters something like “what about straws” under his breath. “Stealing said cute boy’s phone to put my number in it…” 

He swipes Jeongguk’s phone where it lies on the bar and reluctantly frees his other hand to stare at the phone. As he’s sort of drunk, it’s almost like a puzzle. It’s not unlocking the way his own phone would when he looks at it, so he shoves it in Jeongguk’s face, and at his wide eyes, the phone listens. He finds the contact book and puts his number in under Jimin from the bar and then shoots himself a text. Jeongguk just stares at him all the while, unconcerned. 

“Am I the cute boy?” he asks. 

“Duh,” Jimin replies. 

“What if I put my number in your phone, does that make you the cute boy?” Jeongguk asks, already sneaking his arm around Jimin’s back and slipping his phone out of his back pocket casually. His hand lingers for a moment on Jimin’s lower back, fingers dancing over the skin where Jimin’s shirt and jacket don’t quite meet the waistline of his jeans. 

“I guess, if you were going to use logical principles,” Jimin chuckles. 

“We don’t need logic to know that you’re cute, Jimin-ssi,” Jeongguk says, staring at Jimin’s phone before shoving it Jimin’s way to get him to unlock it. 

“We?” Jimin mumbles, amused. Jeongguk’s drunk rambling is really, really adorable. He’s known this kid for a few hours and he already thinks he could go days just listening to him. Compliments to Jimin aside, there really seems to be so much going on his head. Things that for whatever reason, Jimin wouldn’t mind knowing. Maybe even wants to know – wants to let himself know. 

Jeongguk gestures lamely around him. “We, like – everyone. Everyone knows you’re cute.” 

Jimin cocks his head and lowers his eyelashes, handing Jeongguk the phone back with a new contact page. “Maybe,” he murmurs. “But I’d rather a compliment like that come just from you.” 

Jeongguk blushes, but his inhibitions are gone. He raises one big hand to the back of Jimin’s neck and runs his fingers lightly through the cropped black strands of Jimin’s hair. Goosebumps attack Jimin’s neck and back, racing down his skin like spring water down a mountainside. He gently eases Jimin closer to him and then leans down to Jimin’s ear, running his lips along the shell of it with a teasing mouth and a little dart of a hot tongue. “In that case, Jimin-hyung, I think you might be the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. I’ve been staring at you all night. And I think.... if I’m right, anyway, that you’ve been staring back.”

Jimin turns slightly in his hold. Jeongguk’s hand is still on his neck, but he shifts his gaze so that they’re face to face. If Jimin moves any closer, their noses would brush. He can feel the warmth radiating off of Jeongguk’s cheeks. He can sense the way he licks his lips. He lets the sensation pour over them – the one of being so close but hardly close enough. “Ah, smart, clever Jeongguk. You’ve been watching me watch you, then?” 

Jeongguk clicks his tongue. “Maybe.” 

“And you like that I have my eyes on you? You’re awfully good looking, Jeongguk-ah. But something tells me you know that already.” 

Jeongguk shrugs, but Jimin knows better. “Hard to look too good next to you.” 

Jimin smiles, amused. Their faces are still so close. “Mmh, the sweet boy is a flirt, too. Tell you what… you have one more drink with me, and I take you home later, hmm? Would you like that?” 

Jeongguk licks his lips again. “As long as I can keep looking.” 

Jimin winks. “You’ll even get to touch.” 

 

mood: juice – iyla 

 

Jimin pulls back then, and when Jeongguk looks down at the phone in his hand, the screen has gone black again. Sheepish, he hands it back to Jimin with round eyes and a pout, and Jimin nearly gets whiplash from the way he flips the switch, going from so sinfully flirtatious to awfully sweet in an instant. Jimin unlocks the phone for him, and he watches Jeongguk poke his tongue out as he types, Jeon Jeongguk 🥺🤘 .

“Hyung,” Jeongguk murmurs. “Can I set a contact photo?” 

“Sure,” Jimin says easily, “but only if I can be in it.” 

“Isn’t that defeating–” 

Jimin cuts him off by snatching his phone out of Jeongguk’s hands and holding it so it’s angled above them. He snaps one of Jeongguk’s surprised face and then moves into the frame, giggling. “C’mon, I just wanna take cute selfies with you.” 

Jeongguk pouts. “At least let me set a nice one of me alone.” 

Jimin sighs. “Fine.” 

Jeongguk mucks about with his phone for a little while, smoldering at the camera, making a finger heart, sticking out his tongue, and pursing his lips. Jimin watches him for a few moments, grinning to himself until he gives up his patience and crashes into Jeongguk’s space. They end up overflowing Jimin’s camera roll with selfies – ones with their cheeks pressed together, ones making funny faces, even ones where they look pretty damn nice next to each other. It’s pure fun, the two of them just drunkenly laughing with and at each other until Jimin’s arm grows tired and he remembers that he still has a cocktail he’s supposed to be drinking. 

“I’m sure there’s a good one in here somewhere,” Jimin concludes. He’s about to put his phone down again when a notification from Taehyung lights up the screen. He squints at his phone, the letters just a tiny bit blurred. 

 

soulmate 

i’m going back to hobi’s!! i’m sorry we didn’t hang out a lot baby :(

i saw u at the bar talking to someone and it looked like u were having fun!!

i couldn’t see who they were but i know my jiminie when he’s having a good time

u deserve this!!! i’ll see u tomorrow with food i promise pls be safe <3 

 

jimin

go get ur dick tae tell hobi to drink some water

i love you both!! you be safe too

When Jimin finally looks up from his screen, Jeongguk is peering at him curiously, his shiny wide eyes warm and expectant. “Everything okay?” he asks, words just a little slurred, his voice seeming even lower than it was a few moments ago. It only makes Jimin want him more. 

“Peachy,” Jimin replies with a smile. It’s a genuine one, too. He leans toward Jeongguk and sighs a little dramatically, resting his head on Jeongguk’s shoulder. “Just my horny friends finally leaving to go fuck.” 

Jimin’s theatrics make Jeongguk laugh, and for what feels like the millionth time tonight, a little bubble of pride works its way into Jimin’s chest. Being the cause of Jeongguk’s smile or laughter feels like he’s just scored in a game, and it’s one he fully intends on continuing to play – even though he’s not sure he could possibly handle suffering a loss right now. 

  “Don’t worry,” Jeoggguk says, raising a big hand to card through Jimin’s soft black hair. “You have me.” 

Jimin smiles softly though Jeongguk can’t really see it. He supposes he does have him. They sit there for a moment, probably a little out of place against the loud thrum of noise in the bar and the drunken cacophony coming from around them, but neither seem to mind. Perhaps it’s the gin telling them not to give a damn, but the lapse in conversation feels nice. The touch feels nicer. Jimin wonders how someone he just met can possibly make him feel like it’s okay to just simply be when they're in the sort of place where life and people seem to move at their fastest. 

Eventually, Jimin grows slightly restless at Jeongguk’s touch; his fingers that drift into the neckline of Jimin’s shirt and behind the shell of his ear. He lifts his head, and Jeongguk allows his hand to follow and lingers at the nape of Jimin’s neck. 

“Jeongguk-ah,” Jimim murmurs. “Your drink is empty.” 

Jeongguk lifts up his glass to peer inside, watching the ice cubes clink against each other. “I guess it is.” He’s acting innocent, but when he puts his glass back down, he wears a coy smile. “You gonna buy me another one?” 

Jimin chuckles and stands. “Closed out the tab while you weren’t looking, baby.” He drapes an arm over Jeongguk’s shoulders and leans into his ear. “Still wanna come home with me?” 

Jeongguk turns to face Jimin, leaning into his neck and running his lips up Jimin’s neck. He’s definitely drunk now, his breath warm and actions a little slow, but he’s languid and easy going, and Jimin can tell just how badly he wants him. “Still wanna take me home?” he counters. 

Jimin lifts his chin with one finger and fumbles beneath the bar for Jeongguk’s leather jacket, placing it gently on his lap. “Gonna make me say please?” 

Jeongguk bites his lip and leans forward to ghost his lips on Jimin’s jaw, seemingly uncaring of the fact that they’re still in the bar and that the bartender has been watching them pretty intently for a better part of an hour, clearly invested. “I wouldn’t mind.” 

Jimin tsks. “We’ll see, baby. Now come on, I live five minutes away.” 

He ends up helping Jeongguk into his jacket and then salutes the bartender off with a wave, hooking his arm around Jeongguk’s waist and leading him outside. It’s springtime, so the weather goes easy on them despite the fact that it’s an early hour in the morning, and Jeongguk spends most of the walk trying to kiss his neck even though Jimin keeps pinching his waist to tell him to wait. 

They make it up the one flight of stairs to Jimin’s apartment, and once they’re both standing in his living room with their shoes off, Jeongguk starts laughing. He’s sweet and giggling, suddenly bubbling over. He braces himself with both hands on Jimin’s shoulders, overflowing with happiness and not even attempting to stifle it. He laughs freely, breath coming sharp and eyes scrunching up. 

Jimin’s not sure what’s so funny, so he asks, “Jeongguk-ah, Jeongguk, what’s gotten into you?” 

“Hyung–” is all Jeongguk manages, so Jimin just joins him in laughing, allowing him to be infected with this kid’s blatant, drunken happiness. He lets it take over his own body until he’s bent over himself, Jeongguk’s hands coming with him, and then they’re both collapsed on the floor in the middle of his tiny, dark living room – and Jimin doesn’t even know what they’re laughing at. 

Eventually they catch their breath, and by this point, they’re both on their backs on the hardwood, grinning at a slowly spinning ceiling. “Jeez, Jeongguk-ah, you snuck up on me with that,” Jimin says on an exhale. 

“It snuck up on me too,” Jeongguk replies, sounding like he might start giggling again any moment, “it was just so funny.” 

Jimin rolls onto his side and cocks an eyebrow, supporting his body weight by placing one hand on Jeongguk’s firm, toned chest. “Might I ask what got us lying on my floor?” 

Jeongguk bites his lip to stop his laughter. “It’s just– I never even bought you a drink.” 

Jimin does let out a chuckle then, but he doesn’t really care about the drinks or the money at all at this point, let alone his jacket. He decides to take their position to his advantage, pushing Jeongguk’s hair out of his pretty eyes with one hand and then swinging a leg over his hips in those tight jeans. Jeongguk immediately comes to grip his waist with both hands, and he stares up with Jimin with wide eyes and dark irises. 

“How about this, Jeongguk-ah?” Jimin starts, lowering his voice. “Next time we go to a bar, you can buy me a drink, hmm?” 

He’s achingly aware that he’s insinuating next time, that he’s sure that he’ll see Jeongguk again – but he allows himself to want it. He tells himself that it’s already tomorrow anyway, and at this rate, he’s got nothing else to lose. His drunken brain couldn’t even afford a filter if he wanted to, and right now, all he knows is that when he wakes up in the morning, a good part of him wants Jeongguk to still be there. 

Jeongguk blinks heavily then nods, correctly sensing the fact that Jimin’s not done speaking. 

“And for right now,” Jimin murmurs, “you can take me to bed and fuck me, yeah? Sound like a fair trade off?” 

Jeongguk licks his lips, eyes impossibly wide. Instead of an answer, he breathes, “Hyung.” 

“Is that okay?” Jimin checks, just to be sure. He reaches one hand down to smooth Jeongguk’s hair out of his face again, watching the way his eyes flutter shut at the touch and then reopen to stare even more intently at Jimin. 

Jeongguk nods once more. He definitely looks a little dazed, but they could easily blame it on the alcohol. “Hyung,” he repeats. “Jimin-hyung.” 

“What is it, handsome?” Jimin asks. 

 

mood: put my hands on you – dean, anderson .paak

 

“Kiss me first,” Jeongguk demands. He’s blushing a little bit, but his hands are firm on Jimin’s hips. 

“Hmm, you wanna start right here on my living room floor?” Jimin teases, still scratching lightly at Jeongguk’s scalp. 

Jeongguk’s lip twitches, and he reaches one hand to cup the back of Jimin’s head. He gently guides Jimin’s face so it’s close to his, just as close as they were at the bar. “Hyung,” he growls lowly. “Kiss me first, and then I’ll take you to your bedroom and fuck you so good you won’t be concerned about where it started.” 

Jimin heart leaps in his chest, blood rushing through his core and lower – but he licks his lips and keeps his composure. “Who said I was concerned?” he mutters. 

After holding Jeongguk’s gaze for just a moment longer, a test both for himself and for Jeongguk, Jimin finally leans into kiss Jeongguk. It doesn’t take him very long to learn that Jeongguk kisses with his whole body. He slots their lips together and disregards any desire to go slow, raising one big hand to the small of Jimin’s back and bringing the other to card through Jimin’s hair. He doesn’t bother to pace himself, but instead treats it like a chase. He licks into Jimin’s mouth and pushes back up when Jimin starts to grind his hips down. He gasps when Jimin bites his lip – and he growls before he bites back. 

They come up with this give and take. It’s a little competitive; they both try to keep the other guessing. They find themselves trying to outdo each other with each touch, each lick, each heavily weighted breath, but they relent as soon as they get bested and let themselves feel the benefits of the other’s triumph. 

When Jimin gets Jeongguk’s neck tipped to the side and kisses down his skin, Jeongguk just takes it, lolling his head over and letting out breathy little moans. Jimin wants to worship him, wants him to come undone, wants him spilling over his hands, and he can’t even really explain why. He just wants Jeongguk to melt. But he’s not the only one playing this game, and Jeongguk only takes so much until he’s sitting both of them up using just the strength of his abdomen. His turn to give, he slides Jimin closer with his palms gripping Jimin’s ass, and as soon as their cocks come flush together in between their laps, they’re both whining. Their mouths work together as if whoever is first to break the kiss will lose. 

Eventually Jimin resigns, and he pulls back only for the sake of getting them off the floor. He yanks at the already loose collar of Jeongguk’s shirt to bite at his clavicle and murmur, “Take me to my room.” 

The air between them is heavy and hot, their breaths still mingling and the mouths just one move away from the makings of another kiss. A beat passes, and then Jeongguk blurts, “I don’t know where it is.” 

Jimin’s laughing again in an instant, muffling his giggles into Jeongguk’s neck between kisses. He’s so fucking fond he can hardly believe it, can hardly believe it’s his first night knowing Jeongguk at all. He kisses him again, once more square on the mouth, just for good measure. He’s fully ready to pull back and lead him to his bedroom, but then Jeongguk is keeping a warm hand on his cheek to pull him closer, pecking him again and again until Jimin is forced to push him away. 

He laughs warmly. “You wanna stay on the floor forever, Jeon?” To prove his point, he reaches a hand between their bodies to palm over Jeongguk’s hard cock where it’s now straining in his jeans. 

Jeongguk is very quick to shake his head no. 

Jimin gets off his lap and stands, stumbling a little but offering a hand to Jeongguk as soon as he rebalances himself. He makes to drag Jeongguk to the bedroom, but Jeongguk insists on wrapping himself around Jimin in a back hug as they walk, and the whole journey down the hallway he presses kisses to Jimin’s neck. It’s not the most effective method for getting places, but Jimin loves the way Jeongguk works at his skin and runs a hand under the front of his shirt to trace up his abdomen. 

The short walk seems to feel like a perfect glimpse into forever, neither really very impatient, but as soon as Jimin shuts the door behind them, he presses Jeongguk up against it. He leaves the light off thanks to the pesky streetlight outside his window that ensures that it’s never really very dark in his room at all. In the dim light, he looks at Jeongguk’s dark eyes and swollen lips, and he thinks briefly to himself that he’s not very sure of the last time he wanted someone this bad. 

“A bit better than the floor, huh?” Jimin asks, slipping his hands under Jeongguk’s jacket, guiding it off of his shoulders and onto the floor. 

“I don’t know,” Jeongguk hums. “I was kind of enjoying the hard wood pressing into my shoulder blades.” 

“Yeah?” murmurs Jimin, allowing his hands to run under Jeongguk’s soft t-shirt to feel the contrastingly sharp contour of the muscles of his abdomen. “Wanna fuck there instead? We can ditch the bed, really.” 

Jeongguk bursts into his sweet laughter again, hands finding Jimin’s waist and pulling him closer so he can rest his forehead on his shoulder. “Why are you making me laugh so much? Do people laugh this much before sex?” 

Jimin snorts. “You started it, you’re the one who laughed so hard it got us making out on the floor.” 

Jeongguk just shrugs. “Hey, it was nice, and we got to lay down.” He smacks his lips. “I’m tired.” 

Jimin raises his eyebrows. “Too tired to fuck? Wanna just have a sleepover, Jeongguk?” He drags one of the hands that was lingering on the warm skin of Jeongguk’s abdomen down to his jeans, cupping a small palm over Jeongguk’s big, hard cock. “I don’t think you do.” 

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” Jeongguk breathes, his hips stuttering a little bit under Jimin’s touch. 

Jimin stills his hand to reach for one of Jeongguk’s, pulling him by the wrist and over to the bed. “C’mon, handsome. We’re wasting a whole bed.” 

“Yeah,” Jeongguk repeats, voice airy. 

Jimin kisses him once they stand by the foot of his bed, reaching once again to touch his abs before peeling his shirt over his head. Jeongguk strips Jimin of his jacket next, then his white shirt. He pauses when he runs his hands over Jimin’s shoulder blades, face looking somewhat pleased. 

“Y’know, you’re not that sticky,” Jeongguk giggles. 

Jimin snorts again, and frankly at this point he can blame Jeongguk for why they’re laughing so much. “It was gin, baby, not juice, what did you expect?” 

Jeongguk shrugs, but then he ducks down to kiss along Jimin’s collarbones and chest, stopping to drag his teeth along one of Jimin’s nipples. “Hyung,” he breathes as he rights himself. “You’re really fucking hot.” 

Jimin smiles and runs his hands through Jeongguk’s hair before moving them to his belt to finally get him undressed, and as he truly takes the time to peer down at Jeongguk’s beautifully sculpted, cut body, he just shakes his head a little. “Says you, muscles. You’re unreal.” 

Jeongguk doesn’t respond, because by then Jimin has Jeongguk’s pants around his ankles and is rubbing his cock over his briefs, slow and easy. Jeongguk steps out of his jeans when he manages to snap out of it, flicking the button on Jimin’s pants and peeling them down his thick thighs. By the time they’re past Jimin’s calves, he’s backing Jimin toward the bed and getting him to sit before dropping to his knees between Jimin’s legs. He doesn’t waste any time in hooking his thumbs into the waistband of Jimin’s underwear and staring up at him with wide eyes. 

 

mood: head.cars.bending – the 1975

 

“Can I?” Jeongguk murmurs, voice low. 

Jimin brushes the hair out of Jeongguk’s eyes and exhales a disbelieving chuckle. “Are you kidding? Of course.” 

“It’ll be good, hyung,” Jeongguk promises, as if Jimin had any doubt in the first place. Jimin just blinks at him and leaves a hand in his hair, watching as Jeongguk mouths gently over his hard cock in his briefs before taking it out. He runs his tongue slowly along his bottom lip before taking Jimin’s length into his mouth, bobbing his head and taking Jimin deep. His big hands stay gripping Jimin’s thick thighs, and his thumbs press into hard muscle. Jimin doesn’t know how to say that he wants him to press harder. 

When he pulls off to catch his breath, he always makes eye contact, like he knows he’s got those pretty eyes, like he knows that Jimin wants nothing more than to be looking at him. They glint in the dark, and even in the poor lighting Jimin can see the way his lips are swollen. Jeongguk takes his time like they haven’t been on the edge since they walked in the door, stopping to suck at the crease of Jimin’s thighs and to kiss at the head of his cock. It’s wet, but not messy, quick but still deliberate. 

By the time he’s loosened up, he’s taking Jimin nearly all the way, and when the rounded end of his cute nose comes close to Jimin’s clenched abdomen, Jimin has to gasp and pull back on his hair a little bit, suddenly overwhelmed with the idea of sticking his fingers in Jeongguk’s mouth or coming on his face. 

Jeongguk blinks up at him at the feeling of Jimin’s hand in his mouth, and then the kid has the audacity to smirk. “S’it good, hyung?” 

“Jeongguk-ah–” Jimin starts, but Jeongguk isn’t looking at him anymore. He’s leaving wet kisses up the length of Jimin’s cock, and Jimin has to yank on his hair again. Jeongguk gasps, mouth open when he pulls off. He looks even more fucked out than before. Jimin twirls another loose tendril around his finger. “It’s enough, baby. Hyung wants you now. Want you to fuck me so good.” 

Jeongguk lets his gaze linger on Jimin’s cock for a second, almost like he wants to stay on his knees and finish what he started, but instead he stands, peeling off his own briefs as he goes and shuffling alongside Jimin onto the bed. “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck you how you need it,” Jeongguk murmurs, grabbing Jimin by the waist and moving him up the bed like he weighs nothing. Jimin ignores the shiver he gets at the manhandling, instead reaching around the back of Jeongguk’s neck to kiss him from where he leans over Jimin. 

“How I need it?” Jimin echoes after he pulls back. “And how’s that?” 

“I’ll hold you here,” Jeongguk says, gripping Jimin’s waist with one of his big hands, “kiss your neck,” he adds, brushing his lips along Jimin’s jugular, “and fuck you hard. Am I missing anything?” 

Jimin swallows, both hating and loving the way Jeongguk has already picked up on the things he likes, even if they’re simple things – things that seem hard not to like. He’s not sure if he’s readable or just wants Jeongguk to read him. 

“Hmm, that seems like a fair list for now,” Jimin appeases, running his hands down Jeongguk’s cut obliques. 

“How do you want it?” Jeongguk asks him softly, leaning down to kiss him again. 

“Ohh, you’re letting me decide?” Jimin teases, even though they both know that Jimin would be the first to speak up about what he wants. “What a gentleman. I was gonna tell you anyway I want it on my back. Pick my hips up and give it to me good, okay?”

“Okay, yeah,” Jeongguk says breathlessly, his hand coming between the two of them to wrap around Jimin’s cock and stroke it slowly. It catches Jimin by surprise, so he bucks up into his touch. “I’ll be good.” 

“I think you’ll be so good, Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin murmurs assuringly, one of his hands feeling up Jeongguk’s strong body and lingering on his chest. “You’ve already been perfect.” 

That seems to spur Jeongguk into action, and he kisses Jimin a few more times before asking where his lube and condoms are. As he returns to the bed, Jimin is graced with the opportunity to just look at him without being distracted by his sweet, sinful mouth. 

Jimin trails his eyes up Jeongguk’s body, starting with the muscular pair of thighs that strained so tightly in his jeans this evening, the ones that make him look so tall and strong. His hard, big cock bobs between his legs, and Jimin has to force his gaze to keep moving upward, toward the tapered slightness of his waist and the contrasting broadness of his shoulders. He’s smooth with a boyish face, a juxtaposition to his cut abs, big chest. He’s this forceful delicacy, a powerful beauty. Tattoos are scattered across his smooth, golden skin, ones that Jimin would probably care to ask about if he was a little less drunk and a little less turned on. He goes from a smirk to a grin in an instant, and when he comes back to the bed, all Jimin can think about is how he wants to kiss him and feel every single one of his contrasts. 

Jimin selfishly pulls him close, kissing him hard enough for both of them to get distracted. They wind up on their sides, legs slotting together, kissing until they’re breathless. Jimin keeps his hands busy on Jeongguk’s chest, and Jeongguk’s hands only trace along Jimin’s upper back until one of them bucks their hips and they remember what they’re supposed to be doing in the first place. Their mouths still interlocked, Jeongguk eventually trails his fingers downward, using teasing nails to scratch lightly at the skin of Jimin’s lower back, over the dimples there, until he’s cupping Jimin’s ass, one finger dipping toward his dry hole. 

“You’ve got pretty hands, Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin whispers to him, baiting him a little bit. “You gonna finger me now? Finally?”

Jeongguk pouts and bites Jimin’s lower lip, but his finger is still teasing Jimin, and his other hand has come to grope at Jimin’s ass. “Finally?” Jeongguk repeats, feigning his scandalization. “You’re the one who’s been kissing up on me.” 

“Are you mad about it or something, baby? Pretty sure you could finger me and kiss me at the same time,” Jimin replies. 

Jeongguk chuckles and does press a kiss to his lips, but he shakes his head and gently rolls Jimin onto his back. “I could, but I’m gonna do it properly.” 

Jeongguk reaches for a pillow and shoves it under Jimin’s hips, crawling between his legs and leaning down to press wet kisses along the toned surface of Jimin’s abdomen. He slicks up his fingers with the lube he’d retrieved before and reaches his big hand between Jimin’s legs. He starts off slow, but the anticipation is enough for Jimin, especially with the way Jeongguk’s other hand is curled around his thigh and how his bottom lip is tucked into his mouth. 

“Hyung,” Jeongguk murmurs against his mouth, “I’m gonna fuck you so good you never forget me.” 

Part of Jimin thinks that even if they stopped right here that would already be true, but his words still make Jimin shiver violently. “Yeah?” Jimin breathes. “Prove it, baby.” 

Jeongguk slides a wet finger into Jimin’s hole, and Jimin relishes in the sensation. Jimin’s head tips back at the feeling, letting out a heavy sigh. Jeongguk’s fingers are long, suiting his big hands, and he crooks at the knuckle immediately, learning Jimin’s body. Jimin lets out a high moan as Jeongguk explores him, not ignorant to the fact that Jeongguk is still using his mouth, nipping Jimin’s hipbones and licking at his navel. 

 

mood: body talk – majid jordan

 

Jimin imagines Jeongguk is starting to get a little restless, having only focused on Jimin this entire time, because he doesn’t go slow. He’s careful, yes, watching Jimin’s reactions, pausing if Jimin shifts against his touch, but he opens Jimin quickly. He alternates between scissoring his fingers and crooking them upward to make Jimin feel good. Jimin lets himself relax, knowing the moans are slipping past his drunken lips and letting Jeongguk hear them – wanting him to hear them. 

He doesn’t particularly want to waste time either, so he eggs Jeongguk on, rocking back onto his hand and arching his back until Jeongguk has three fingers in him and is fucking him genuinely. He grips Jimin’s waist with one hand and presses his fingertips into his skin, tight enough for it to hurt in the good way. Jimin plants his feet on the bed to lift his hips up so that Jeongguk can fuck him right, his hand moving in and out of him with fast fingers and a wrist angled right to his sweet spot. 

“Fuck,” Jeongguk finally says, the first words spoken between them. “You’re so tight. I can’t believe how good you feel.” 

“It’ll feel better when you fuck me,” Jimin manages to breathe, sinking back against the pillow as his legs start so shake. 

“Yeah?” Jeongguk asks. “You’re ready?”

“I’m ready, baby,” Jimin breathes. “C’mon. Fuck me the way you promised.” 

Jeongguk crooks his fingers up one last time so that all three pads of his fingers graze against Jimin’s prostate for a brief moment, and then he’s pulling his hand away and Jimin is immediately crying out at the loss. 

He still makes quick timing of it all, rolling on a condom with dexterous fingers and slicking up his cock. He positions himself between Jimin’s legs and lines up his cock, softly gripping Jimin’s thighs to push his knees closer to his chest. Jimin grasps his hands on top of Jeongguk’s and squeezes, getting Jeongguk to push his legs further and harder. 

“I’m a dancer, baby, remember? More flexible than you think. And you don’t have to go easy on me,” Jimin murmurs. 

Jeongguk lets out a deep exhale. “Noted,” he says, and then he’s folding Jimin in half and pressing his cock inside without so much of a warning. He’s still gentle, not trying to hurt Jimin or cause him any discomfort, but as soon as his hips are flush with Jimin’s ass, he leans over to steal a kiss while Jimin moans against his mouth, and then he takes Jimin’s words to heart. He picks Jimin up by the waist, easily lifting his hips off the bed while his head and shoulder blades rest on the soft material of the sheets. 

He fucks Jimin hard, snapping his hips and pressing his fingertips into Jimin’s skin, probably hard enough to bruise. Jimin takes it; he might even be a little bit desperate for it. He loves the way Jeongguk moves him around like he’s weightless, loves the way he fucks him like he means it, the way he leans over Jimin’s body to bite at his neck and chest like he’s marking Jimin as his own even though they’ve only just met. On one particularly hard thrust, Jeongguk stills, keeping his cock deep inside of Jimin. He readjusts his grip on Jimin’s waist and tries to pull him even closer, even though their bodies are already as flush as can be. 

He trails wet kisses along Jimin’s jaw, teeth dragging here and there. With a warm mouth pressed to Jimin’s skin, he asks, “This how you wanted it, hyung? Is this good enough for you?” 

“Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin whines, bringing his hands to the broad expanse of Jeongguk’s back. His skin is warm and tacky as he exerts himself, but he’s strong, muscles rippling as he holds the weight of Jimin up and fucks him at the same time. “Fuck me,” he demands. “Please, fuck me, I can’t wait anymore. You’re teasing me right now.” 

At Jimin’s words, he starts to roll his hips a little bit, but he stays teasing, still kissing Jimin’s skin and gripping his waist and ass. “Hyung’s a little impatient,” Jeongguk notes, bringing his mouth to Jimin’s ear. “I thought we were having fun. You want me to just give it to you nonstop until you come? I like touching you like this, hyung. Like holding you up like this. Can’t even believe I’m fucking you, you’re so hot.” 

“Ah,” Jimin cries, clenching his hole around Jeongguk’s thick length in him. “Why not?” he manages to say, even though Jeongguk has begun to slowly move inside of him again. 

“You’re just unreal,” Jeongguk mutters. “So fucking sexy. And now I have you begging on my cock.” 

“Am I begging?” Jimin teases, even though he’s still breathless. 

Jeongguk cocks a brow and yanks Jimin’s body onto his cock instead of pushing in himself, and then he sets down Jimin’s waist to bend him fully in half. One hand gripping the headboard with his strong, flex arm and the other holding Jimin’s knee by his face, he growls, “Told you I’d like it if you said please.” 

Jimin swallows and digs his nails into Jeongguk’s back. “Then fuck me like you said you would, baby. Please give me your cock. You’ve been so good for me and–  fuck, fuck I want it so bad. Make me come, Jeongguk-ah.” 

“Shit, you’re unreal,” Jeongguk breathes again, and that’s the last thing he says for a while. He fucks Jimin hard. The dirty angle and Jimin’s bent legs get Jimin screaming, thrashing around on the sheets while Jeongguk fucks him relentlessly. Jimin drags his nails down Jeongguk’s back, pulls at his hair, digs into his biceps – and that only spurs Jeongguk on. 

“Please,” Jimin babbles as he starts to get close. “C’mon, fuck, please. Your big cock is so good. Make me come, Jeongguk-ah, touch me. Touch me, touch me.” 

Jeongguk lets go of his grip on Jimin’s knee, and Jimin takes the cue to wrap his legs around Jeongguk’s waist. Jeongguk’s big hand comes to wrap around Jimin’s cock, sticky with the precome that it has been blurting this whole time. He jerks Jimin off messy and quick, whispering in his ear, “Come for me, hyung. Come with my cock in your tight little hole. I’ve been good for you, right? I’ll know I’ve been good if you come for me.” 

Jimin come with a loud moan, nails digging into Jeongguk’s broad back as Jeongguk continues to fuck him. As he spills over Jeongguk’s hand, he tightens his legs around Jeongguk’s waist when he starts to slow down. “Keep going, baby,” Jimin tells him, voice wrecked. “Be a good boy and fuck your hyung till you come, okay? I can take it.” 

“Okay,” Jeongguk breathes. Jimin lowers his legs, muscles tired, and Jeongguk comes to lay fully over him, one strong arm propping himself up as he rolls his hips fast and dirty, moving in smooth, languid thrusts instead of pistoning ones. 

When he comes, the arm holding his body weight up begins to shake, and Jimin just reaches a hand to card through his hair and whispers in his ear how good he fucked him, how good he was. Jimin’s own cock twitches against his belly, still half hard from the overstimulation. Jeongguk pulls out after a minute, heaving his body next to Jimin in the bed and letting out a deep breath. 

“Fuck,” Jimin mutters. 

Jeongguk giggles. “Yeah, fuck.” 

They lay there for a few seconds in silence, and then Jeongguk seems to come to, sitting up quickly. He ties the condom after he peels it off, and then he’s scrambling off the bed. It’s kind of comical, how this beautiful, naked man is rushing out of Jimin’s bed, covered in lovebites and scratch marks from Jimin, searching for his underwear on the floor. 

“Where’s your bathroom?” Jeongguk blurts. “I didn’t offer to clean you up, I’m sorry.” 

Jimin just sits up gingerly, laughing. His stomach is tacky with drying come, but he doesn’t really care. He just sweeps his hair from his eyes and leans back against the headboard, giggling. “Down the hallway and on your left, baby.”  

Jeongguk pulls on his briefs and disappears for an incredibly short amount of time, returning with his hair pushed off his face, now dampened with water, and one of Jimin’s washcloths folded in his hand. He crawls back onto the bed, rubbing the warm, wet towel along Jimin’s stomach and then handing it to him so that he can clean the rest of himself. Jimin tosses it onto his nightstand and then flops back into bed, suddenly exhausted. 

“Want some water?” Jimin asks, his lips smacking. He realizes only now that his mouth is dry from the alcohol. He’s probably going to have a headache in the morning. 

“Yes, please,” says Jeongguk. He’s curled up in Jimin’s bed now, still in nothing but his briefs, one arm tossed over his face. His chest rises and falls softly. 

Jimin pulls on his briefs and grabs a big tee from his closet before disappearing, coming back with two glasses of water to find Jeongguk already asleep. Shutting his curtains to block some of the annoying light from outside, he pauses to look at the boy in his bed, suddenly appearing much sweeter and younger than the one who fucked him so hard. 

He climbs into his own bed, pulling the sheet and blanket over both of them, but he gently pets at Jeongguk’s head to get him open his eyes. “Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin whispers. “Drink some water before you sleep, yeah?” 

Jeongguk whines, but he blinks blearily and manages to sit up. He gulps most of his glass down, and then curls onto his side once more, drunkenly hazy, body heated and tired. As he rolls onto his side, he leans over his shoulder to slur, “Will you hold me, hyung?” 

Jimin wraps an arm around him in response, burying his face into the warm crook of Jeongguk’s neck – and that’s how they fall asleep, sated, drunk, unspeaking, and together. 

 

☾ ☾ ☾

 

mood: crying over you – honne, rm, beka

 

When Jimin wakes up, he notices three things: he’s on the left side of his bed even though he usually sleeps in the middle, he smells vaguely of gin, and he has a killer fucking headache. He groans as he wakes up, blinking in the bright light of his room and rolling from his side to his back to stretch out in the warm expanse of his bed. Pressing a hand to his forehead, he reaches for the glass on his bedside table, and he notices that there’s a second one, empty, right beside it. 

Blearily he sits up, and the evening comes back to him in an instant. Jeongguk. Sweet Jeongguk who fucked him into another dimension, missing from his bed. Jimin goes through phases of bringing people home, but it’s very seldom that they stay. He usually doesn’t want people in his space for very long, regardless of if they’re kind or friendly enough. And even then, it’s not very often that Jimin fucks someone he can’t hold a conversation with. 

This is exactly why he sighs, sipping his water. He wonders if Jeongguk had tried to say something to him before he left and Jimin just doesn’t remember, or if he’d simply slipped out come morning. Jimin smiles softly as he sinks back into his sheets, thinking about how much fun they’d had at the bar and afterwards. His muscles are a little sore and there are bruises on his hip bones, but they’re comforting feelings. He’s happy to reflect back on last night. 

But, still, there’s something nagging in his stomach about Jeongguk leaving him in his bed. Sure, it was a one night stand, but Jimin doesn’t think he’s stupid for feeling like there was a spark between them. For all the flirting he’s done in his life, he’s become pretty certain in knowing that the other person feels it, too. Biting at his lip, Jimin shuts his eyes again, his hangover becoming a greater reality the more time he spends awake. Could Jeongguk have had somewhere to be this morning? Did he just want to let Jimin sleep? 

In all of his uncertainty, Jimin remembers that he and Jeongguk exchanged numbers last night, and he happily bears the pain of standing to find his phone in his jeans discarded on the floor. Back in bed, he plants himself into his rightful place in the middle of his mattress and unlocks his phone, ignoring his notifications for the sake of finding Jeongguk’s number. As he closes out some of his apps, he notices his camera still open, and then he’s giggling to himself as he discovers all of the ridiculous photos they took together. He scrolls through them happily, pressing his phone close to his face as he trains his eyes on Jeongguk’s cute dimples and silly expressions. 

Once he gets past his distraction, he checks the time (nearly noon), and decides it’s late enough in the day to text Jeongguk without seeming overeager, even though he certainly is. His fingers fall still on the keyboard as he ponders what to write, and self-doubt (probably exacerbated by the headache) takes over. Wouldn’t Jeongguk have stayed if he wanted to spend more time with Jimin? Or at least texted him first to let him know where or why he had to leave? Or even left a note? Jimin knows that he’s probably overthinking it. Jeongguk has no obligation to him – not to talk to him or text him and certainly not to wake up next to him. But Jimin hasn’t let himself like someone in a long time, and maybe it stings a little bit to think that the first person he’s felt somewhat connected to in a while, regardless of the fact that they had alcohol as their assistant and only spent one night together, might want nothing to do with him at all. 

He bites his lip and snaps himself out of it. No matter what, it was a good one night stand, and Jimin really, really enjoyed it. He’s not letting his own self-consciousness prevent him from sending a text. If Jeongguk answers, he answers. That’s that, right? Jimin shouldn’t feel rejected before he even tries, and even if he is rejected, it shouldn’t matter. It was supposed to be just sex.

Sighing, Jimin unlocks his phone again as the screen had gone black in his contemplation. As soon as he sends the text, rather than relief, a wave of anxiety washes over him. A few hours with Jeongguk, and he’s already in this deep. He didn’t know he could miss someone he just met this badly – let alone someone who was only supposed to be a good fuck. 

 

jimin

hey jeongguk-ah, it’s jimin! 

i had a really good time last night

let me know when you wanna grab that drink you owe me ;)

hope you got home safe

 

Jimin groans, throws his phone across his bed, and buries his head under his pillows, hoping sleep will rid him of the nasty feeling in his chest and the headache drumming against his temples. 

The next time he wakes up, it’s to someone pulling at the collar of his shirt. When he grumpily blinks open his eyes, he’s immediately met with the sight of the freckle that lives on the underside of Taehyung’s nose. His best friend is clearly inspecting him closely, prodding at the bruises on his neck and collarbones, petting him awake and leaning close into his face. 

“Jimin-ah,” Taehyung sings, “it’s time to wake up.” 

Jimin pushes weakly at Taehyung’s chest and covers his eyes with his hands, but Taehyung peels them away at once. “Shh, I’m sleeping,” Jimin groans. 

“No, you’re not,” Taehyung argues, shoving Jimin over and coming to lay down next to him. “You’re awake, and by the state of your neck, you’re either recovering from a wonderful night with that boy from the bar, or you had some kind of scary midnight run-in with your straightener.” 

Jimin groans again, but then he’s groping all over his bed in search of his phone, suddenly reminded that he’s been sleeping for a few hours. There’s a good chance that Jeongguk has texted him back by now. When he finds it, he squints at his screen and the slew of notifications he has from ignoring his phone for so long – and there’s nothing. Or rather, there’s nothing that he wants to be there. 

Sighing, he throws it again, but he’s not given any time to fester on his feelings, because Taehyung is relentless. “ Jimin,” he whines. “C’mon, it’s almost three, wake the fuck up.” 

“Three?” Jimin echoes. “Seriously?” 

“Well, 2:30.” 

Jimin swats at him. “Not the same.” 

“It got you to talk to me, so…” Taehyung murmurs. He’s just teasing, and he brings a soft, big hand to Jimin’s hair and cards through it gently. “You’re not gonna tell me about your night?” 

Jimin sighs again, opening his eyes again to see Taehyung’s sharp, beautifully-featured face softened by his expression of concern. “Feed me first, baby?” he asks meekly. 

Taehyung just smiles and presses a kiss to his hairline, squeezing Jimin’s hand once before he stands. On his way out, he says softly, “You have to come eat in the living room, okay? I know you’ll feel sad if you stay in bed all day.” 

Jimin knows he’s right, so eventually he follows. He throws a hoodie on but stays pantless, stopping in the bathroom to haphazardly wash his face before meeting Taehyung in the living room who has bowls of jjigae and rice set out for them. Jimin eats in silence for a little bit, letting the warm food sooth his uneasy stomach and lingering headache, but he eventually manages to meet Taehyung’s waiting eyes, and all he can think to say is, “Taehyung-ah, I think I’m in love.” 

He says it kind of dramatically, his spoon half in his mouth, his vowels all drawn out, but instead of laughing the way he’s meant to, Taehyung leans forward with his elbows on his knees and looks intent. “Park Jimin actually likes a guy he slept with? Park Jimin actually likes someone?” 

Jimin scoffs. “Just because we’re theoretically in love does not mean I like him.” 

Taehyung cocks an unimpressed eyebrow. “...Okay.” 

They have a little staring contest, and Jimin glares like it’ll prove his point. Eventually Taehyung just blows some air past his lips and mutters, “Anyway, tell me about the sex, you brat.” 

 

mood: 1 4 me – electric guest

 

Jimin is thankful that Taehyung gives in so quickly, because he feels neither that he’s neither ready nor justified in attempting to explain how he slept all afternoon simply because his adorable one night stand from last night might be ghosting him. Focusing on the sex will be much easier. 

“So, he spilt his drink on me–” 

Taehyung bursts into laughter immediately, squeaking out, “Girls and gays, the standard is just that low. Park Jimin has been cellibate for so long that he’ll fuck the first person who spills on him.” 

“I have not been cellibate, I’m just–”

“Just picky, I know.” 

“Listen, I get that you and Hoseok-hyung are already planning your wedding, but I don’t want a boyfriend, and when it comes to fucking randos, just because the bar is low doesn’t mean I have to adhere to everyone else’s poor standards.” 

Taehyung rolls his eyes and sticks out his tongue, but once again, he doesn’t try to fight Jimin. “Anyway, tell me about this guy who was apparently sexy enough that it didn’t bother you at all when he spilled on you. And you were wearing your nice jacket, too.” 

“It was just gin,” huffs Jimin. 

“Okay, fair,” Taehyung concedes. Jimin gives him a look. “Sorry, I’ll stop interrupting now.” 

Jimin shoots him one last look just to make sure, and when Taehyung holds up his hands in defeat, he finally starts to talk again. “Right, so, he spills his drink on me by accident, and he’s super apologetic. He’s all frantic, offering to pay for my drycleaning and stuff. It was cute, really, Like, the fact that he spilled his drink on me has nothing to do with my standards, okay? That was just the segway to meeting him. He was so flustered after he spilled, too, but I was mostly distracted by how good looking he was while simultaneously trying not to mope at the fact that I was alone while you and Hobi dry humped each other on the dance floor.” 

Taehyung raises a finger, probably to argue with something like “define dry hump” or blame the fact that Namjoon had bailed on them last minute for Jimin’s loneliness, but Jimin narrows his eyes, and Taehyung stays quiet, stifling his giggles into his fist. 

“Anyway, I basically sweet talked him into sitting down to have a drink with me, and we sort of like? Hit it off, I guess. Like we drank and talked together all night, and when I asked him to come home with me, he did.” 

Taehyung waits for a beat of time and then asks, “That’s it?” 

Jimin pouts. “What do you mean?” 

“You said you were in love, like, five minutes ago,” he points out. “Also, you said nothing about the sex. Like at all.” 

“The love thing was hyperbolic,” says Jimin.
“Yeah, obviously, but you’re never hyperbolic for no good reason.” 

Jimin sighs. “I just… really like him, I guess? And the sex was fucking amazing–”

“Yeah, your neck–”

“–and he was so sweet. Shy at first… but we really had so much fun. I don’t know the last time I had that much fun with someone that wasn’t you, or Hobi, or Joon. And he was a stranger. ” His voice shakes a little bit toward the end, quieting with every word he adds. The reality of it all seems to sink in as he says it aloud.

Taehyung quirks an eyebrow, but he reads Jimin better than anyone, so instead of quipping more jokes he moves closer to Jimin on the couch, taking the bowl of rice from Jimin’s hands and setting it on the table. He wraps one arm around Jimin’s shoulders and begins to massage gently at the back of his neck. “Why do you sound sad then, baby?” 

“Do I?” Jimin mutters weakly. 

“I know you, Jimin-ah. You like him, huh? It’s okay that you do, you know. You’re allowed.” 

He says the last sentence firmly, and it makes Jimin squirm. “I know,” he argues, though it’s a bit pathetic. 

“So what’s wrong, hmm? Why’s my soulmate sad?” 

Jimin blames his hangover for the temptation he gets just to blubber in Taehyung arms, but he powers through, reaching for Taehyung’s free hand to intertwine their fingers. Staring into his lap he mumbles, “He left this morning.” 

Taehyung cocks his head. “What do you mean?” 

“Like, before I woke up. We had this crazy sex, and I mean, sex so good that I don’t even know if I’ve had it that good before, and he asked me to hold him before we slept… but when I woke up, he was gone? And I get it, we were pretty drunk last night, but I don’t think the gin was the only reason I was having such a good time. It wasn’t… it wasn’t just the sex that was good. At least, not for me.”

“Oh, Jimin,” Taehyung says softly. He cards gently through Jimin’s hair, scratching at his scalp. “Did you get his number, at least?” 

Jimin nods. “Texted him when I woke up for a bit, earlier. He didn’t answer.” 

Taehyung hums understandingly, his low voice soothing and warm. “Well it’s only been a few hours, maybe he’s working or something! Don’t let it get you down, okay? I’m sure he’ll answer, and if he doesn’t, it’s his fucking loss. We’ll find you someone better.” 

“I don’t even want anyone,” Jimin grumbles. 

Taehyung just bumps their shoulders together, used to this act and knowing that Jimin isn’t even putting his all into keeping it up anymore. “Chin up, okay? I’m glad you had fun.” 

“No thanks to you,” Jimin jokes. 

“Hey, think of it this way,” Taehyung sings. “We both got good dick last night.”

Right, the bright side of things, accompanied by imagery Jimin does not need to be picturing. Still, he allows himself to giggle and relax into Taehyung's touch, because that’s the least he can do. Taehyung is never going to make him say any more than he feels like sharing, and he’s always there with his gentle touch and familiar sense of teasing. He’s Jimin’s remedy. 

“Not to kill the mood or anything…” Taehyung starts up again. “But we do have our, um, situation that we need to think about solving.” 

Jimin takes it back. He’s the cancer of Jimin’s life, destroyer of happiness, reminder of all things bad in the world. “I’m too hungover to deal with that,” Jimin whines. He shoves his face into Taehyung’s neck and closes his eyes, as if that will make all of his problems disappear. Like just the touch of his friend will make the earth stop turning for a few minutes, like together, they can halt time for the sake of revelling in each other’s company. 

“Minie, the longer we wait, the more money we lose. We can’t afford an empty room.” 

Jimin sighs, but it’s true. Their asshole of a roommate had picked up and moved out after getting this opportunity to go do research abroad, and they’ve now had an empty room in their apartment for nearly a week. He hadn’t even told them that he was leaving. They’re losing money by the minute, and neither have enough cash to make ends meet while covering the split cost of the third bedroom. “I know,” he says. “Let’s just tweet about it and put up some ads, okay? We can ask around, too. I know we’ll find someone. It’s still close to the beginning of the term, maybe some people are arriving late or still setting up housing.” 

“Okay,” Taehyung agrees. “That sounds good. We’ll figure it out.” 

“We always do,” Jimin hums, and he happily spends the rest of his Saturday tucked into Taehyung’s side, watching bad TV on their couch, wondering what it will be like to have some misshapen third wrenched between their perfect two.

Notes:

and there's chapter one!! i hope you enjoyed like 13k of jikook flirting/fucking. please do let me know what you think – i anxiously await to hear everyone's reactions. comments and kudos mean the world to me.

on another more serious note, i hope everyone is doing okay handling the scary news of the global pandemic caused by COVID-19. whether or not you're in isolation or quarantine, digesting all of the news can be really difficult and anxiety inducing. i know it is for me. school on zoom and almost a month stuck at home is definitely not easy on the mental health!

Chapter 2: circles

Summary:

“Hyung,” he blurts suddenly.

Namjoon stills his pen and meets his eyes, and though he says nothing, Jimin knows he has his undivided attention.

Jimin asks his question before thinking it over first. “Are there people in your life… who matter to you more than you want them to?”

Notes:

hi everyone!! i hope everyone has had a good week and stayed safe. before we start i want to thank everyone for the positive reception on the first chapter, it really means so much to me. i'm still a bit wary about this fic, as it's so different from what i'm used to writing and want to do the plot justice. i also wanted to mention now that i'm thinking this might end up as 6 chapters instead of 5, but i'm going to wait until i'm absolutely sure before changing the chapter count.

this chapter is quite the wild ride! enter namjoon, yoongi (sort of), and jimin's new roommate... lol. let the hate part of the fic begin. please be patient with our jiminie... he's going through a lot and he's not the best with his emotions. i hope you enjoy ♡

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

 

mood: roll with the punches – colony house

 

Jeongguk doesn’t text him back.

Jimin always gets along pretty well with his couch and takeout, but the two become his best friends for the rest of the weekend. Taehyung – now knocked down from number one best friend to a lowly number three – only makes fun of him a little bit; otherwise, he’s just concerned, making sure Jimin gets his homework done and taking the time to entertain Jimin’s woes more often than not. 

Jimin thinks about Jeongguk a lot. He really only complains to Taehyung with the bare minimum, whining about how hot the guy he hooked up with was and how well he can suck dick because his antics make Taehyung laugh. He doesn’t revisit the conversation they had on Saturday, when he was hungover and vulnerable. He chooses to fold the other feelings up; he makes them tiny and tucks them away so he doesn’t have to look at them. Compact and hidden as they may be, Jimin still thinks of them. He thinks of the way Jeongguk asked to be held before they slept. He thinks of the way his smile seemed to surprise even himself; when he laughed at Jimin’s silly jokes, he’d remain blank-faced until his grin erupted on his face all at once. Jimin thinks of the way he listened like it wasn’t a chore and replied like it was nothing less than human nature than to remember the things Jimin told him. 

It was one night, and yet Jimin finds himself not only mad at Jeongguk for making him think it could be something more but irritated with himself for letting his guard down enough to be charmed. He was joking when he told Taehyung he was in love, but Jeongguk is still enough to chip at his walls. He’s the first stranger to become someone in a long time. After denying himself for so long, Jimin is still failing to understand why he thought he could allow himself this.

His theatrics only last so long. Although he mopes and wallows for most of Saturday and Sunday, Jimin’s not the type for melodrama. He’s certainly not the type to let an upset turn into a disaster. Jimin’s a fixer. A perfectionist by nature, he tirelessly corrects his mistakes. With his empathic heart he’s always able to mend trouble with friends, and when he breaks down he’s known for his envious habit of never failing to get back on his feet. 

Jimin is unexpectedly strong, and his friends say he’s soft in all the right places. Sometimes he bothers to argue with that. On the days that he doesn’t, he either loosens up or grows harder. An emotional pendulum, Jimin tends to be swinging – always in flux but only inwardly. On the outside, he’s bold and sweet. The kind of thing that tastes best. 

It’s for all of these reasons that he gives himself a hard reset on Monday, waking Taehyung up for his early lecture like he always does and offering to cook him dinner later. It’s why Hoseok tells him he dances exceptionally well during their studio time that afternoon. It’s why come evening, he’s grooving in the kitchen with his wooden spoon acting as a microphone and letting himself feel the way he felt before Jeongguk emotionally stunted him in the first place. 

Of course he still thinks of him. But they remain as just that – thoughts.  

When Taehyung walks through their front door, he’s giddy. He flings his shoes off carelessly and throws his bag toward the couch without even checking where it will land. With a skip in his step, he props his elbows atop their tiny kitchen counter and cups his head in his hands. 

“Jimin-ah,” he sings. “Did you have a good day? Are you feeling better?” 

Jimin bites his lip before he lets his mouth curl into a knowing smile, rolling his eyes as he takes in the look on Taehyung’s face. His eyes are much bigger than usual, and his grin keeps shrinking and growing, like he’s trying to stop it from spreading wider. 

“Tell me,” Jimin replies, ignoring Taehyung’s questions. “You’re itching to.” 

“I don’t have anything to tell you,” Taehyung replies. He lies terribly, which is sort of out of character for him – he tends to be a great actor, so he must be very excited about whatever news he has. Jimin smiles fondly at him, dropping his wooden spoon into the pot and lowering the heat so he can come closer to Taehyung. 

The counter between them, Jimin reaches across and pokes his cheek. “Liar.” 

“Okay, I do,” Taehyung admits easily. “You know I can’t lie to you.” 

Jimin laughs at him. 

 

mood: move – saint motel

 

Taehyung pouts. “I wanna hear about your day first, though.” 

“It was a fine day, babe. I feel better, really. I was just being a baby so I could avoid my responsibilities for the weekend.” 

“Well, it worked really well, because you also got me to avoid my responsibilities.” 

Jimin snorts. “You do that every weekend.” 

Taehyung pouts again. “It’s not my fault that Overwatch–”

Jimin grabs his hands and squeezes, giggling. “Shh, just tell me your news please, we were both pathetic this weekend.” 

“Okay, okay,” Taehyung relents. He lets go of Jimin’s hand and sits up straight. “I found someone to live with us!” 

“What?” Jimin exclaims happily. “Already?” 

Frankly, he hadn’t thought about their roommate situation all day. Too distracted with trying to get back into routine, Jimin had spent the day focusing on clearing his head and trying to wipe Friday night from his memory. The last thing on his mind had been posting on Twitter or Facebook to try to find them a new person to fill their empty room. 

“Yes!” replies Taehyung. He squares his shoulders with pride and speaks animatedly. “I was thinking it might be better to live with someone who goes to our school, so I just brought it up to some of my friends in my photo class. One of the guys I talk to sometimes said he needs somewhere to live, like pretty much effectively immediately.” 

A wave of relief washes over Jimin, and anxiety he didn’t even realize he’d been hanging onto gets released from between his shoulder blades. 

“Oh my god, Tae, that’s amazing. He’s a good guy?” he asks hopefully. It’s kind of a redundant question, especially considering how much both of them had disliked their last roommate and certainly did not want a repeat of him. 

“I like him a lot even though we’re not super close. He can be kind of shy, but I don’t think he’ll be a fussy roommate. I actually want to be better friends with him.” He pauses and smiles cheekily. “And he can afford the rent, so what more can we ask for?”

Jimin covers his mouth with his small hand as he giggles. “Literally nothing. All he has to do is clean the toilet sometimes, and he’ll already be exceeding our expectations.” He turns over his shoulder to look at his simmering pot on the stove. “...Although I wouldn’t mind someone who can cook better than us.” 

Taehyung snorts. “I can’t speak for his cooking skills, but he seems like a pretty tidy guy.”

Jimin sighs dreamily, brushing a hand over his forehead. “ Tidy . A man after my heart.”

“I bet he even knows how to fold laundry,” Taehyung swoons. 

“Oh, dear, he can fold and clean a toilet? Does he know how to sweep, too?” 

Taehyung grows serious very quickly. “Park Jimin. Don’t go setting the bar too high now.” 

Jimin bites his lip but fails to stifle his laughter. They crack up together for a minute, and when Jimin manages to compose himself he asks dubiously, “He is actually clean, right?” 

“As far as I can tell,” replies Taehyung honestly. 

“Good,” Jimin breathes. “Wow. I wasn’t expecting this to be resolved so quickly. I can’t believe our good luck. When can he move in?” 

“He said this weekend, on Friday after class. Will you be home?” 

Jimin thinks it over. “I don’t have any plans yet, I can stay in. I’m already seeing Joonie-hyung later in the week, anyway.” 

“Okay, perfect,” Taehyung says with one of his warm smiles. “I think it’ll be nice if we’re both home to help him and greet him and stuff. Like I said, he’s a little shy.” 

Jimin is flooded with a rush of affection for his friend, who’s gone from so playful to genuinely concerned in just an instant. He knows that he’s lucky to have Taehyung to ground him whenever he loses touch. “I’ll be home,” Jimin replies confidently. He’d never want to leave Taehyung alone to welcome his friend into their home. And after having a shitty roommate for so long, he’d hate to become one himself. “We can watch a movie or something, if he’s up to it.” 

“Sounds good.” Taehyung lets out a happy squeal, seemingly overwhelmed with relief that this problem is finally solved. “Ah, I’m so happy this worked out. He’s really nice, Minie, I promise.” 

Jimin just smiles at him and reaches across the counter to grab hold of his hand. “I believe you, Taetae.” 

Taehyung uses his free hand to wrap it around the back of Jimin’s neck, pulling Jimin’s head closer to press a big, wet kiss to his forehead. “I’m gonna shower before dinner, baby. Thanks for cooking.” 

Taehyung releases him and moves down the hallway toward his bedroom. “Thanks for finding us a roommate!” Jimin calls after his tall form. 

The good news is enough to keep Jimin in a happy mood for the rest of the night. After they eat dinner they find themselves on their couch, and that’s how they spend their evening – Taehyung with his head on Jimin’s lap, scrolling through new pictures on his DSLR and Jimin holding a book above him, reading for class with Taehyung’s humming as his soundtrack. Content for the first time in a few days, Jimin flirts with images of the future and finds himself too enraptured with them to be thinking of the past. 

 

☾ ☾ ☾

 

mood: rivers in your mouth – ben howard

 

Jimin only has one class on Wednesday mornings, and while the rest of his day is usually free from school, Wednesday afternoons are almost always reserved for coffee with Namjoon. The two of them routinely bring notebooks with them to their favorite cafe, but they have this bad habit never really managing to write anything in them – and when they do, they find themselves jotting down parts of their conversations with each other rather than any ideas that come from outside of them. They wind up with jokes that don’t make sense out of context, one liners that are only funny to the two of them, bad doodles of each others’ outfits, and words of the day. 

While they usually lack a creative outcome, they’re always creative in process. 

Namjoon is a true artist. He looks like one, even, in the same way that Taehyung does, with bright eyes that seem to notice everything around him, a wardrobe that probably suits him too well, and a remarkable knack for understanding people. He’s always able to write them into pages and speak them into words as if they were never flesh and blood in the first place. He’s one of Jimin’s aspirations – never mind the perfect person to have as a hyung. He’s an even better confidant, with a warm smile to match, and he’s perhaps the only person Jimin could tolerate having a midweek standing date with, in which they always come to the exact same place to do the exact same thing.

Normally, Jimin likes stimulation. He likes change. He likes to see new things and figure out how they make him feel. He’s sensational. 

Somehow, Namjoon does all of that just by sitting across from him and sipping bitter coffee, spinning his pen between his fingers and pushing his chocolatey brown hair off his forehead. 

“Jimin-ah,” he says from behind the rim of his cup. “When are you going to let me write you a song for your contemporary routine?” 

Jimin huffs, rolling his eyes. This is not the first time they’ve had this conversation, and it’ll likely play out the same way it always does. “Never.” 

“Why not?” Namjoon asks playfully. 

“Because I don’t dance contemporary,” Jimin replies as usual. 

“Yes, you do,” Namjoon sings. He’s wearing this knowing smile that makes deep dimples blossom on his cheeks, and Jimin hates that it makes him look cute even though he’s acting all coy and cunning. “Seriously, I know a great producer.” 

Jimin huffs, knowing this is probably just Namjoon looking for another excuse to hang out with Min Yoongi, his long time collaborator and budding friend who Namjoon seems to have quite the infatuation with. He has this adorable habit of bringing Yoongi up as just a partner who he works with sometimes, rather than a hyung or a friend, almost like he forgets that he talks about him to Jimin all the time. 

“Just do it for me,” Namjoon presses. 

Jimin could totally tease him right now, but he finds himself more irked than anything. He taps his nails on his coffee cup. “Hyung, no.” 

Namjoon dares to pout. He knows his weapons and uses them wisely. He just so happens to have many, though most of them are beyond his cute pursed lips and sharp eyes. He’s a writer by nature, and he’s as talented as he is stubborn. Though a journalist by trade, he spends the rest of his time working on a novel he doesn’t tell anyone about and making music with either Min Yoongi or Hoseok. 

Right now, his stubbornness is on full display, as well as this playful side that only lucky people like Jimin get to see. 

“If you find a USB with a song on it in the pocket of your bag, you know who put it there,” Namjoon tells him with a shrug. 

Jimin, mostly kidding, narrows his eyes. “And if you find me not dancing to the song you work so hard to make, you can’t be offended.” 

Namjoon really sighs hard this time, but he doesn’t drop the lighthearted act. “Oh, come on, Jimin-ah. You know you’re my muse as it is.” 

Jimin blushes despite himself, because even though he knows Namjoon is making somewhat of an overstatement, it’s still one of the highest compliments he could ever imagine receiving, especially in the context of a style of dance Namjoon has probably only seen him perform once or twice. “Shut up, no I’m not.” 

“You’re one of them,” Namjoon says easily. It’s hard not to believe him. “I have plenty to say about you.” 

“Like how I’m a stubborn brat, but also the angel you see in your dreams? I know.” 

Jimin deflects naturally, though his blush increases. The knot beneath the finish on the wooden table suddenly becomes very interesting. He runs his fingers over it, wishing he could feel it as it were on the tree rather than beneath a smoothened coat of varnish. Even the pages of his blank notebook are starting to look fascinating.

“See, you’re just proving my point. That characterization alone is so much to work with.” Namjoon winks at him, but he falls into a fit of laughter afterwards, unable to keep a straight face at his own antics. 

Jimin begins to hush him, picking up his pen. Sometimes it’s exhausting to be on the other side of the flirting; he wonders how all of his friends put up with him, Namjoon included. He’s usually the one being teased. “Shush, you,” Jimin finally declares. He doesn’t look up from his notebook, where he has now begun to doodle aimlessly. “Let me work in peace.”

“Jimin-ah, are you breaking our tradition? You know we never actually come here to write,” Namjoon says astutely. He sips his coffee again and smiles with his eyes. 

Jimin’s returned smile unfolds instantaneously. “I know.” 

There’s a brief pause in their conversation, just the two of them looking at each other. Eventually Namjoon bites his lip and mutters awkwardly, “It’s good to see you.” 

Then Jimin is narrowing his eyes again, thinking of what could have possibly prompted Kim Namjoon, one of his best friends, someone he sees twice a week at least , to say that. “Is this your way of saying sorry for ditching us this weekend?” Jimin says suspiciously. 

Namjoon grows sheepish. “... Maybe.” 

Jimin gives him a look. 

“But it was for a good reason!” Namjoon exclaims, pulling out his phone and pulling up an MP3 file. “Yoongi wanted to work on a song, and I’d been messing with the lyrics for a while now, and… I have trouble saying no to him.” 

Jimin smiles devilishly, his cheeks rounding beneath his eyes. “ Oh , okay.” 

“Why are you saying it like that?” Namjoon asks, deadpan. He knows already, but Jimin is aware that he has a whole slew of troubles when it comes to Yoongi. Like maybe admitting his crush. 

“No reason,” Jimin chirps. 

“No, seriously.”

“I am serious.” 

“I hate you.” 

Jimin smirks and winks. “And yet I’m your muse. ” 

Namjoon groans. “I’m a man of my word, please don’t make me go back on it.” 

Jimin giggles into his hand and swipes a finger around the rim of his mug to get some of the foam from his latte. “We’ll see,” Jimin sings. “Anyway, if you really want to work with me, make something Hobi and I can use for our final this term.” 

Clearly over his bout of flusteredness, Namjoon just laughs at him and takes another sip of his coffee, jotting down words in his notebook that Jimin doesn’t even bother to try to read from upside down. 

 

mood: punks and poets – elliot root 

 

Jimin takes the time to look around the café; it’s the kind of place that’s so familiar now that the details have become less distinct. He’s been so many times that if anyone asked him what colors the walls are he wouldn’t be able to tell them. But he could easily note the panel of wood in the floor that’s a slightly different shade than the rest. He could describe the feeling of the plushy couches. He could tell you that there’s only one table that they like to sit at because it gives him and Namjoon a view of both the inside of the shop and outside the windows so they can see the coffee-drinkers and the passersby. It’s a good day when they get it. 

They’re sitting there now. 

Outside, people are bustling. Inside, students type quickly on their laptops and friends laugh into each other’s shoulders. The staff giggle behind the display case of sweets. Life seems to move easily around them, somehow slow and fast at the same time. Everyone is existing together and separately all at once – of course overlapping and passing by one another but most of the time failing to notice, or at the very least, it fails to matter. 

The abstractness of the thoughts eventually shifts into something concrete, and he finds his brain back at the club from the other night. His hand has begun to absently draw spirals on the open page of his notebook, and his mind starts to go in circles, too. Jeongguk, someone he’s supposed to be forgetting, so easily comes back to him. His warm, low voice starts to echo in Jimin’s brain – the way he would go from so shy to so sharp in an instant. Circles. 

He snaps his eyes up from his page to break his thoughts, and when he remembers it’s Namjoon who’s sitting across from him, he finds himself very grateful. “Hyung,” he blurts suddenly. 

Namjoon stills his pen and meets his eyes, and though he says nothing, Jimin knows he has his undivided attention. 

Jimin asks his question before thinking it over first. “Are there people in your life… who matter to you more than you want them to?” 

Namjoon looks at him curiously. His dark irises glint behind his glasses in that manner that tells Jimin the wheels in his head have begun turning. “In what way? That’s a question that could have a lot of answers.” He pauses to lick his lips, and when he continues, he speaks slowly. “I’ve definitely had people I’ve felt more negatively toward than I wanted to. I… hated much more easily when I was younger, and sometimes I wish I felt it less. I wish those people mattered less. But I don’t think it’s true for the opposite.” He smiles softly. “Like when it comes to love, I’ve learned to let myself feel however much there is, even if it’s overwhelming.” 

Jimin cocks his head and lets himself smile back, just because it’s Namjoon – Namjoon who’s always so poetic and well-spoken, who thinks so deeply without even trying. “How did you know I meant it like that?” 

Namjoon shrugs, and his smile turns into one of knowing. One of understanding. “We kind of have the same heart.” 

Jimin hangs his head with a blush. “Aish, you always manage to speak so prettily, hyung.” 

“Years of cultivating language does that to a person,” Namjoon jokes. 

“How’s the book coming?”

Namjoon looks down at the two sentences in his notebook by way of answer, and Jimin follows his eyes. They share a laugh together, but Namjoon interrupts, flipping his notebook shut and waving a hand through the air. “Anyway, don’t change the subject. Why do you ask? Are you hating or loving?” 

Jimin snorts, unsure. “Maybe both.” 

Namjoon raises his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

Jimin sighs and looks away from his friend, trying to collect his thoughts before sharing them. Namjoon is good at understanding people no matter how they approach him, but Jimin always feels the desire to do so carefully. He makes Jimin want to treat his emotions like they’re worth taking time for. 

“Well, I don’t know. I’m just thinking.” He pauses to toy with the cuffs of his baby blue sweater coming over his fingertips. “I’m thinking about the way some people affect us and others don’t – like. Like why it happens, I guess.” 

Namjoon hums, almost like he’s pleased with Jimin’s thoughts. They probably intrigue Namjoon himself. “I don’t really know the answer to that, Jimin-ah. All we can do is work with what we’ve got and take the feelings for what they are. Especially when they’re toward someone new.” 

It’s a very Namjoon answer. Jimin wasn’t really expecting anything else, anyway. He’s not really sure how Namjoon knew he was talking about a new person in his life, either, but much of Namjoon’s intuition tends to be that way. 

Unquestionable.

“I suppose,” says Jimin. 

Namjoon flicks his eyes down to Jimin’s page now covered in swirls. He doesn’t even know the root of all of these feelings that Jimin is having. He’s saying write about it , but Jimin doesn’t feel ready for it. Writing is just a hobby for him anyway. He tends to only show Namjoon what he writes when he feels good enough about it – and that’s seldom. The thought of trying to write Jeongguk down sort of unsettles him, so he does his best to change the subject. 

“Did I tell you we’re getting a new roommate?” Jimin says softly. 

Namjoon reacts right away, and when he accepts the new topic, Jimin relaxes a little bit. 

“Can you guys even fit a fourth?” 

He’s somewhat incredulous. 

“Oh shit,” says Jimin. “I guess I didn’t tell you. Actually, this is what you get for ditching us for your producer boyfriend.” 

Namjoon gapes at him. “He’s not–”

Jimin talks right over him. “Is he even cute? Show me a picture so I can decide if this ‘Yoongi’ you speak of is worth it.” 

Namjoon laughs, somewhat exasperated. “ Worth– Actually, you know what? Never mind that. I’ll show you his Instagram later. Now please tell me why you’re getting a new roommate?” 

“Jaeyoon moved out last week,” explains Jimin simply. “He got some offer abroad and left the next day. He took all of his stuff and didn’t even give us an explanation for what we were supposed to do about the rent. He literally just left, since he wasn’t on the lease papers.” 

“What the fuck.” 

“I know!”
“Well, he was an asshole, anyway,” Namjoon chuckles. 

Jimin giggles into his hand. “Yeah.” 

“So you already found someone?” 

“Taehyung knows someone in his photo class,” Jimin tells him. It’s only now that he realizes that he never asked his name. It’s a fleeting thought though, one he’ll probably forget. 

“Is he nice?” Namjoon asks. 

“I’ve never met him. Taehyung says he is.” 

Namjoon hums. “He usually has good taste.” He says this as one of Taehyung’s good friends, and it makes Jimin want to laugh. Namjoon and Taehyung spend a lot of their free time together, one always pulling the other to some kind of museum or coming to bother Hoseok and Jimin at their studio and whining when neither gives them attention. 

“True,” chuckles Jimin. “But he’s a social butterfly.” 

“And you’re not?” Namjoon counters. 

Jimin giggles more, and when he ducks his head, his soft black hair falls into his eyes. “Just a flirt.” 

Namjoon huffs fondly. “That, too. Are you nervous?”

Jimin continues to play with the cuffs of his sweater. He hasn’t really thought so much about that. He’s been so preoccupied with the relief of knowing that they have a roommate that he hasn’t even begun to think about what this guy will be like beyond whether he’s polite and clean. “I guess,” he decides. “I mean, Jaeyoon was an asshole, but we were used to him. It’s weird to think some stranger will suddenly live with us. Especially because it’s us. ” 

Namjoon smiles fondly, assuredly picturing images of Jimin and Taehyung wreaking havoc in their own apartment, burning things on the stove, bickering from across the hallway, acting out dramas in their living room, staying up late to play games and then falling asleep cuddling. Namjoon has seen it all. 

“Maybe he’ll be a friend,” Namjoon says lightly, making it clear that he’s not disagreeing. “But at the very least, see how he affects you. Something might come of it.” 

Jimin pouts, crossing his arms. “What if I don’t want something to come of it?”

When Jimin looks up from his lap, Namjoon is just wearing a half-smile. It’s a knowing one, and very older-brother like. It makes Jimin feel young under his gaze. He feels like he has a lot to learn. “Jimin-ah,” chides Namjoon, “you never do. Life comes at you anyway.” 

 

☾ ☾ ☾

 

mood: wraith – peace

 

The rest of the week goes more quickly than he’d like. By the time Friday rolls around, Jimin’s exhausted, school having swept him up by distorting time. It passed in that muddled kind of way. He only remembered the day of the week for the sake of knowing which class to go to, which meeting to attend. Evenings ended too soon, eaten up by assignments that made hours pass like minutes. Mornings were drawn out as never-ending lectures, classes spent staring at the clock and wondering how the second hand manages to backtrack when under a watchful gaze. 

He parts ways with Hoseok on the metro after their afternoon studio, getting off one stop before him to head back to his apartment for a much needed post-practice shower. The two of them had been in the zone today, not really talking much beyond the routine they were working on. It isn’t always like that – a lot of the time they find themselves getting distracted or giggling over something or another – but they know better than to fail to take advantage of days when they’re in good form. 

A productive afternoon leaves Jimin in a good mood as it usually does, so when he gets home he greets Taehyung with a kiss on the forehead and moves wordlessly to take his shower. Their routines are so embedded with one another’s at this point that Taehyung doesn’t even question his silence; he knows that Jimin will be much more glad to talk after he’s clean and comfortable. This notion doesn’t manage to dawn upon Jimin until he’s under the spray of the showerhead, thinking of what he wants to tell Taehyung about his day. He realizes, in less than an hour, a wrench will be thrown in their easily turning gears, in the form of the roommate that had escaped Jimin’s thoughts so many times this week. He’d been so distracted, and of course so happy as just two. 

Jaeyoon has only been gone for ten odd days, but since then, Taehyung and Jimin have been thoroughly enjoying their time alone – there’s a clearance that is left not only by a missing body and his missing things, but also by the space his presence took up. Jaeyoon was messy and angry, rude and condescending. It’s not the absence of his body that freed up so much room in their already tiny apartment, but rather his aura: the nasty, dark thing that had hung over them. It seems that they just didn’t realize how heavily so until he was gone. 

They’ve been enjoying their freedom and space, but even before he left, Jimin and Taehyung had figured out their ways around him. Time had turned him into this avoidable obstacle for them to shift by. They’d suck in and squeeze past him, so for the most part, things were as they wanted him to be. 

Now something new is waiting outside of his apartment door, and he is going to have a key. He may make up more space than Jimin can push past. 

Back in his room, Jimin eyes his closet carefully. He wonders how carefully he should consider this first impression. Should he try to look nice for this stranger? As he towels his hair, his muscles groan with soreness, and he takes that as a sign. If he’s going to be living with this guy, he’s bound to see Jimin in all sorts of forms – sweaty from dance, hot for the club, cute for school, drunk, tired, lazy. He settles on something comfortable, joggers still cute enough that he’d wear them to a morning lecture and a soft t-shirt with a scoop neck. 

At his vanity, he calls to Taehyung to come sit with him, and he begins to blow dry his hair. He arrives immediately, standing behind Jimin’s body, pretty in his loose pants and soft sweater, telling Jimin about his day and listening to Jimin share about his own. 

“I tried to clean today,” Taehyung mutters. He peers wearily out of Jimin’s door, toward their living space. 

Jimin giggles, muffled by the sound of the blow dryer. “It looks good, Tae. I’m sure our new roommate will understand we’re busy. We’re all in the same boat here,” he placates, sure that those are Taehyung’s concerns. 

Taehyung seems to relax immediately at Jimin's words, realizing their truth. “Yeah, he does. I saw him in class yesterday! He seems excited.” 

Jimin looks at Taehyung through the mirror, fluttering his eyelashes. His arms are starting to get sore from doing his hair. “Did you tell him anything about me?” 

Taehyung chuckles dryly. “Not really. I just said that you dance with my boyfriend.” 

Jimin harrumphs, wishing he could cross his arms. “That’s all I am to you these days. Your man’s dance partner.” 

Taehyung gives him a dirty look and swats him. “Hey, that’s not true.” He pauses and then smirks deviously. A trademark look of his, as far as Jimin is concerned. “You’re also my mediocre chef.” 

Jimin lowers the blow dryer to turn on his stool, glaring at Taehyung who’s standing coy and cute. “Shut up, I hate you,” Jimin says deadpan. 

Taehyung ignores him, taking the blow dryer and doing it for him. Jimin immediately relaxes at the feeling of Taehyung’s warm, gentle hands carding through his hair as he styles it dry. He hopes Taehyung will go to his room to get his hair mist, too, the one he’d always use after styling his or Jimin’s hair in soft waves. The thought of the smell alone makes Jimin nostalgic for when they were younger, more argumentative but more playful, too. 

 

mood: my trigger – miike snow

 

“What did you want me to tell him?” Taehyung continues. “How you’re sexy and cute at the same time, and it stresses most people out?”

Jimin giggles, hiding behind his hand. He meets Taehyung’s eyes in the mirror again, and Taehyung just shakes his head at him. “Maybe,” murmurs Jimin. 

“Absolutely not. He’s going to find out on his own, anyway, and I can’t encourage any kind of roommate canoodling. We all know that would be a disaster.” 

Jimin raises his eyebrows. “What, is he cute?” he asks suggestively. 

Taehyung stills his hand, moving the blow dryer away from Jimin’s head. “You’re about to find out! Don’t get any ideas, Jimin-ah.” 

Jimin pouts dramatically, but then he’s laughing, easing Taehyung’s worries that weren’t even really there in the first place. “I’m teasing. You know I don’t want anything right now.”

Taehyung waggles his finger at Jimin, but starts working on his hair again. “I’m not talking about you dating him, I’m talking about you guys fucking and me having to hear it.” 

Jimin’s face falls blank, irritated. “Like I don’t put up with you and Hoseok like three nights a week?” 

Taehyung blanches. It’s comical. “... Are we that loud?”

Jimin rolls his eyes so hard that he thinks they might fall out of his head. The apartment’s thin walls and Taehyung and Hoseok’s active sex life and joint vocal capacity leave nothing to Jimin’s imagination. “Oh my god, I hate you.” 

“You never said it bothered you!” Taehyung exclaims, suddenly growing a bit frantic. “Really, I didn’t know.” 

Jimin just looks at him. 

“I’ll sleep at Hoseokie’s more often?” Taehyung offers carefully. 

Jimin reaches behind him and fists a hand in Taehyung’s sweater. “No!” Taehyung stumbles closer, the lower part of his torso pressed against Jimin’s back. “I’ll miss you. I’m just joking, anyway. I’m glad one of us gets dick and love.” 

Taehyung looks at him carefully. “You know what?” he starts, and Jimin braces himself for whatever is to come. “Maybe you should fuck our roommate once. It’ll be like a cleanse from whatever the hell that asshole from last weekend did to your brain.” 

Jimin feels the slightest twinge of irritation at Taehyung’s comment, but he laughs anyway, because it is funny, regardless of the fact that he’s still a little bit sad about Jeongguk. That he’s still thinking of Jeongguk. That sometimes, he still checks their messages just to make sure it says delivered under the ones he sent. 

“I haven’t even been talking about him!” he argues. 

“But you’re thinking.”

Of course Taehyung knows. He never doesn’t.

“Ugh, shut up. Besides, I agree that fucking someone you live with is a bad idea, so if I really need to get laid, I will search elsewhere.” 

Taehyung sets down the hair dryer with a smile. “Okay, Jimin-ah, I support you. And I made your hair look extra soft and fluffy. You can use my mist later.” 

Jimin feels a warmth spread from the center of his chest to the tips of his fingers. “Thank you, Taetae. Please be my hairdresser,” he adds cheekily. 

Taehyung pouts at him. “I used to be, back when you were blonde and let me dye it.” 

Jimin waves a hand around dismissively and says, “It’s easier like this.” 

Clicking his tongue Taehyung quips, “Whatever.” He then takes the time to study Jimin through the mirror, eyes flitting all over him. “I just miss your pink hair. Let me miss pink Jimin in peace.” 

“You sound like a fan talking about their idol.”

Taehyung giggles. “You’d make a great idol, Jimin-ah. What would your stans be called? Something cute, like fairies?” 

Jimin just laughs, and when his shoulders shake from it, Taehyung puts his big hands there and squeezes. He does his best to wring out any of the feelings he knows that Jimin chronically keeps there. Jimin tips his head back so he can look at Taehyung directly above him instead of through the mirror. Taehyung looks down to meet his gaze and leans over to drop a wet kiss to Jimin’s forehead. 

“I’m gonna go get my phone,” Taehyung murmurs. “I don’t wanna miss the call for when our new roomie gets here.” 

He’s gone in an instant, excitable as ever, and Jimin is left to look in the mirror. He runs his hands through his soft black hair. It smells like his shampoo. He almost wishes their roommate wasn’t coming so soon, so Taehyung could have gotten the mist himself and worked it through Jimin’s hands with his hair like he used to when they’d have beauty nights. Their first year of school, when time felt more forgiving, they’d surround themselves with products they didn’t really need and listen to music, spending nights doing masks and trying out all the skincare products sitting in their bathroom that they’d bought when they were just convinced they were going to use them. 

Taehyung doesn’t return, but after a few minutes, Jimin hears the door open, and Taehyung exclaims, “You’re here!” 

Jimin stands up automatically to go greet this new person, but he’s suddenly filled with longing for something he can’t even place. 

With one last glance in the mirror, he decides he looks all right. Two voices drift to his open door, but the walls muffle them. He can tell Taehyung is animated, probably offering to help in every way possible. As he shuts his door behind him, he registers the second voice – it sounds familiar, but he can’t quite place it. It’s like hearing an old song from years ago and trying to remember who it’s by. 

“How did you get all of your stuff here?” Taehyung asks. 

Jimin hears a light chuckle as he approaches, and that’s when he realizes. He waits to round the corner, giving his legs a moment to adjust to the shock, giving his ears a chance to prove themselves wrong. 

“Well, since your roommate left his furniture and said I could have it, my hyung just dropped me off with my stuff.” There’s another chuckle, warmer this time. Fond. It makes Jimin’s stomach twist a little bit, and he hates that his first reaction is affection before it’s anger. “He said he wasn’t in the mood to meet anyone new, so he just helped me bring everything up the stairs and left. It’s all in the hallway.” 

One more chime of laughter, more awkward sounding this time. Jimin can picture him rubbing the back of his neck, looking at his shoes. If he dared to stick his head around the corner, he’d see it. 

“Oh, cool,” Taehyung replies warmly. “Jimin, my– well, our roommate, should be out in a sec. He can help with–” 

Taehyung’s cut off by a frantic interruption. “No, no, you guys don’t have to help! Seriously–” 

His voice halts suddenly, and when he speaks, Jimin’s stomach sinks to his feet, because his words confirm Jimin’s suspicions. It’s an affirmation. A sign that Jimin’s hearing hasn’t gone to shit after all. 

“You know what? Your place looks kind of familiar.” 

Taehyung, blissfully unaware, answers easily. “Does it? I guess it’s a pretty generic layout. I’m sorry I forgot to send you those pictures before you moved in. I think a lot of apartments in this building look similar.” 

There’s a pause. Jimin’s sure the same tension is not laced through the air for the other two like it is for him, but these seconds feel like they’ve been unraveled into minutes. 

“Maybe that’s it…” 

 

mood: in degrees – foals 

 

And then Jimin decides to step out from his hiding place, heart frantic in his chest. When he meets the eyes of his new roommate, he suddenly hates that he chose to be comfortable. He wishes his clothes were tight enough to keep his body taut, because it feels like he’s about to sink to the floor. He feels like he’s going to spill out over his loose cotton and polyester. He wants to collapse. It’s probably too strong of a reaction, but he doesn’t show it. 

When he hears, “Oh,” muttered into their tiny living room, Jimin briefly wonders how hard he could land a punch. 

There’s Jeon Jeongguk, pretty lips parted around the syllable that just left his mouth, shiny eyes wide and hidden by the fringe of his hair and bill of his baseball cap. He’s stunning in the literal sense of the word and otherwise. He makes Jimin’s feet feel like they’re molded to their scratched wooden floor where he stepped a few meters into the space. His shiny earrings glint in the too-bright light of their apartment. He’s not smiling like Jimin had grown used to even in their one night spent together. Rather, his face is pinched, not shocked, but upset. The corner of his lips turn down. 

Registering that, Jimin’s unsure if he’s more angry or embarrassed. 

“Jimin,” says Jeongguk. 

Jimin forces himself to react, the red-hot feeling into his body allowing him to undo the metalsmithing that had gotten him stuck in place. He wrenches his feet forward, taking a few more steps to place an arm on Taehyung’s bicep. He’s not sure if it’s territorial or an attempt to comfort himself with his friend’s presence, but Taehyung glances at him warmly, clearly still unaware of the situation at play. 

Jimin’s not even sure how he plans to tell him. 

“It’s hyung,” Jimin replies, eyebrows raised. 

Jeongguk bites his lip, but he doesn’t look away, nor does he sound apologetic when he replies. He sounds a little bit too frank for Jimin’s liking. “Sorry, um. Jimin-hyung.” 

Jimin just forces a smile and looks away before he has to take in Jeongguk’s expression. Turning to Taehyung, he exhales too loudly, and he knows he looks furious when he speaks up. He knows he looks like a liar. His eyebrows are knit now, his lip curled downward, hand removed from Taehyung’s sweater to instead cross his arms over his chest. He’s petty with his words, playing them in a way he never does. He laces together his silly bluff just to say fuck you , but also because he knows that Taehyung thinks Jeongguk is a stranger to him, and he’s in no state to explain otherwise right now.

 “Taehyung, I’m sorry. I just remembered I have an essay due at midnight. Do you mind helping– sorry, what’s your name again?– move in by yourself?” 

He sneers despite his feigned-polite tone, but he still doesn’t look Jeongguk in the eye, still angry from the deliberate drop of honorifics right away. 

“It’s Jeongguk. Jeon Jeongguk,” Jeongguk interjects. 

Jimin ignores him, still looking at Taehyung. 

“Sure, Minie. It’s no problem. If you finish, will you come hang out with us?” 

Jimin plays nice, but only for Taehyung’s sake. “Yeah, I’m not sure if I will though.” 

He smiles at his friend, but he knows Taehyung is already worried about him. His head only snaps up when he feels Jeongguk look at him. “Hyung,” Jeongguk says. 

Another one of his pauses. Jimin finally decides to look at him, and though he’s weary on the inside, he keeps his expression tight and angry. He raises an eyebrow, now wishing Taehyung was looking away from him so he didn’t have to watch this unfold. 

“Hmm?” Jimin replies. 

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Jeongguk blurts. Looking at him, Jimin sees his blush and wants to scream at him for having the audacity for pretending to be coy. 

He nearly snaps, but he’s always been good at keeping himself composed when it comes to things like this. He shrugs lightly. “Maybe. Most people tell me I have a pretty unforgettable face, though.” 

Pissed, he turns on his heel, brushing his arm against Taehyung’s, and he heads into the kitchen. He plucks a bottle of wine from their steadily depleting stash and a glass from the cabinet, and he then storms back into his room to collapse at his desk. He knows better than to slam the door behind him, but fuck if it isn’t tempting. He knows it’ll be awhile until Taehyung even has time to come asking questions, but he already feels awful for putting him through this. He knows he could have handled that whole situation better, but something about Jeongguk makes him want to behave childishly. Maybe it’s because he had the audacity to drop honorifics and pretend he didn’t know Jimin. Maybe because he wants to teach him a lesson. Maybe because he still wants him. 

Sighing, Jimin breaks the seal on the wine and flicks off the cheap, twistable lid, pouring himself a glass and running a hand through his hair. He opens his laptop, but he doesn’t actually have any work to do. He’d gotten ahead this week specifically for this night. He fidgets in his chair for a few minutes before moving to his bed, wine and laptop in tow. He turns on some shitty drama, but he doesn’t really pay attention. 

The reality of the whole situation sort of makes him want to laugh, thinking about what he and Taehyung were discussing just a little while before. Jimin fucking their roommate. If only he knew. 

He realizes he should probably explain all of this to Taehyung sooner than later, but it then dawns on him that Taehyung and Jeongguk are friends . He can hear them through his door, laughing at the other end of the hallway as they unpack Jeongguk’s things. He can hear Taehyung explaining to Jeongguk where the bathroom is even though he’s used it before. He can hear him pointing out Jimin’s bedroom even though he’s slept there before. 

Jimin does laugh a little bit, mostly at himself, because this could probably only happen to him. He buries his head in hands and wonders briefly about fate. 

It’s especially bad because Jeongguk looks so good . Jimin couldn’t handle himself when they met at a bar, how is he going to handle him when they’re living together? Jimin already likes this version of him. He was hot at the bar in his tight jeans and leather jacket, but this Jeongguk is sweet, more boyish. His jaw, sharp beneath his cap, juxtaposed by the gentle roundedness of his pretty, big eyes. He looked comfortable in a long sleeve shirt and tight joggers. He looked too good. Jimin hates that he still wants him. 

He hates it even more than he can still picture having him. He shouldn’t even be thinking about wanting him when he has to figure out how to live with him.

He thinks about knocking on the door to his room, pressing up against him on the couch. 

He thinks about his space, too – will it look anything like Jaeyoon’s? Or will he give it a touch of the energy that made Jimin weak for him in just a few hours? Jimin wonders if he uses that shy, flirty act with everyone. 

For whatever reason, he doesn’t feel like he’s the first to fall. 

Jeongguk is probably going to take up space so easily in their apartment. He’s going to be everywhere. He has too many interests and hobbies not to. Jimin already knows this. He can tell just from the way that he talks that he’s the kind of person to express himself through the space in which he lives. 

And fuck, Jimin’s already so caught up. 

He watches the drama to get his mind off of things. He drinks his wine and tries to find ways to chase Jeongguk out of his head even though he knows it’s fruitless, considering he’s just down the hall. He keeps replaying their interaction in his head. Of course, Jimin is upset from being ghosted – but he’s a big boy. That’s not enough to make him truly angry more than it is enough to make him sad or feel rejected. Maybe it stings a little bit more because Jimin actually liked Jeongguk, but he’s never been the naive type. A quiet romantic, perhaps, but never stupid. 

But for Jeongguk, this kid, to shape Jimin into a question mark, to pretend like he doesn’t even know Jimin, that makes Jimin angry enough to want to snap. Jimin knows of course, that he didn’t have to take it to the next level beyond Jeongguk just forgoing honorifics by pretending not to know his name, but Jeongguk could have also relented at any point. He could have dropped the act, too. Both of their faults are at play, and Jimin is mad regardless.

 

mood: drop the game – chet faker

 

Two hours pass. The show occupies him well enough. Taehyung knocks and enters without waiting for a response, grinning from ear to ear as he bounds into Jimin’s room. 

He lingers by Jimin’s bed, bringing a hand to pet his hair where he’s propped against the headboard. 

“Jimin-ah,” says Taehyung happily. “Jeonggukie is just setting up his room. Are you sure you don’t want to get to know him better? I promise he’s a nice guy.” He pauses to look at Jimin thoughtfully. “You seemed a little upset before.” 

Jimin waves him off, sitting up a little bit straighter and remembering to pause the noise of his show. “It’s nothing, Taehyungie.” 

Taehyung looks at him, suspicious. His eyes wander to the paused drama and the half-empty bottle of wine on his desk. “Are you even doing your work?” 

“No,” Jimin sighs. He’s grateful he doesn’t really have to lie, that Taehyung didn’t ask, do you even have work , instead. 

“Jimin!” Taehyung chides. “It’s already 8 o’clock. You’ve gotta.” 

“I will…” Jimin says, not meeting his eyes. 

This only makes Taehyung grow more concerned. “You sure you’re okay?” he asks again. He tilts Jimin’s chin up so that Jimin quits avoiding him. “We ordered pizza. Will you come eat with us?” 

Jimin chooses to answer only the first of his questions. “Um, I’m fine. I don’t know, I’m just tired now.” 

Taehyung furrows his brow, clearly not buying the lie but also not wanting to push. “Only if you’re sure. Want me to bring you some? It should be here soon.” 

Jimin hates that he’s lying, but he’s unsure of how Taehyung will react to this whole situation. In truth, Jimin’s emotions are muddled. He can’t equate his anger with his hurt right now, nor can he deny his attraction on top of it. Jeon Jeongguk scares him and pisses him off, and it’s clear that he doesn’t know how to handle that right now. 

“Yes please, Taehyungie.” 

“You’re okay?” Taehyung asks one more time, petting Jimin some more. 

“I am,” Jimin says. “I promise.” 

His words fall flat. He feels guilty. Taehyung seems disappointed, but he leaves it, knowing that Jimin sometimes prefers to handle things on his own. He probably just wants to know what has upset Jimin in the first place, but Jimin doesn’t even have the words available to him right now. 

“Hm, okay.” Taehyung pauses on his way out and smiles. He’s trying his best. “Did I tell you? He plays video games, too. We’re gonna play while we eat. But if you decide to come out, we can watch something instead!” 

“It’s okay, Taehyungie. You know I don’t mind you playing.” 

Taehyung’s lip curls. His hand rests on the handle of Jimin’s door. “But it might be different if we’re both playing and you’re not.” 

Jimin wants to huff. “Yeah, I guess it might be.” 

“I’ll check in again when I have food,” Taehyung mumbles. He tried so hard and Jimin gave him nothing. Jimin wonders vaguely why he’s not being more stubborn. 

“Okay, baby.” 

Taehyung’s eye twitches, but he leaves. 

Jimin only gets halfway through his next episode before Taehyung is back, sitting on the edge of Jimin’s bed with big, hopeful eyes that always make Jimin a little bit weak. He’s so beautiful up close, but his face is earnest and concerned. “Jimin-ah,” he says quietly. “Please come eat with us? I really want him to feel welcome. I know you’re not writing your paper.” 

Going to sit on his couch in awkward tension with his best friend and the guy who ghosted him a week ago is definitely not high up on his to-do list, but Taehyung doesn’t ask things of him very often, and Jimin would feel horrible denying him this. He’ll try – but he’s genuinely not very sure how smoothly it will go. 

“Okay,” Jimin sighs. “For you.” 

Taehyung smiles and stands, offering a hand to Jimin and pulling him into a hug when they stand. Rubbing a big, gentle hand across Jimin’s back, he murmurs, “My baby, are you nervous to have a new roommate? If I knew you were nervous I wouldn’t have had him move in without you meeting him first. You looked so upset when you saw him.” 

Jimin tenses under his touch, guilt making his chest clench. He never wants to make Taehyung upset or scared that he’s made a bad decision, especially when he hasn’t. Jimin chose to be passive in the roommate situation. He let Taehyung handle it, and he should be grateful, especially when both of them would have gone broke if they had to cover an extra third of the rent this month. 

No, no, no,” he whispers soothingly. “You did nothing wrong, babe. I’m just…” He thinks of how to phrase it. “I’m just overwhelmed all of the sudden. You know me. Emotions just sneak up on me sometimes.” 

Taehyung laughs fondly and pulls away from their hug with a gentle pat on Jimin’s butt. “I know. Let’s eat. You’ll feel better. All that wine on an empty stomach after practice? You must be starving.” 

Jimin reaches down to pat his tummy, and as if on cue, it growls. He giggles. “I am.” 

There’s no sign that someone’s in the process of moving in based on the state of the living room. The only differences Jimin can see are a few extra games on the shelf of their TV stand and of course, the extra body on the couch. Jeongguk is seated cutely, his hat now missing and his curly hair tucked behind his ears. His eyes are wide, but Jimin doesn’t meet them, he just notes the way he has his knees tucked up to his chest and how he eats his pizza in small bites from the paper plate resting atop them. 

Jimin chooses to sit on their loveseat. 

“Oh, um,” Jeongguk blurts. “Welcome back.” 

Jimin nearly recoils, holding back a flinch at Jeongguk’s wording. It feels condescending even though his tone says otherwise, like Jeongguk is trying to make sure Jimin knows that he’s upset at him for leaving and not helping him unpack. It’s such a stupid little comment, so passive and judgemental, but it still gets to Jimin. He doesn’t want to be blamed for not helping. Even if it looks bad to Taehyung, Jeongguk knows exactly why Jimin didn’t spend two hours going through his moving boxes. 

He tries to keep his face blank, but he can’t help the way his eyebrow twitches. “I live here,” he replies, reaching for a slice of pizza and forcing himself to take a bite. He’s hungry but doesn’t feel like eating. Jeongguk makes him queasy. 

Jimin watches the way Taehyung looks awkwardly between them, sitting on the couch next to Jeongguk and picking up the plate that he’d probably abandoned when he went to drag Jimin from his bedroom. 

“Um, yeah. I know,” Jeongguk replies. 

He’s soft spoken, but his words make Jimin feel like he’s being talked down to. It’s bad enough that Jeongguk rejected him, but if he keeps being rude, Jimin is not going to be able to control his anger. He juts his chin out. 

“Yeah, you do.” 

He knows his words are weighted, but he wants them to be. Jeongguk does know Jimin lives here. He knows the feeling of Jimin’s sheets and his hands and what he looks like when he’s sleeping. What he looks like when he’s coming. He hates the little lie that Jeongguk has built for them. He started it as soon as he refused to call Jimin hyung. But now they’re in too deep, Jimin pretending not to know his name and Jeongguk pretending not to remember his face. Regardless, they’ve started a game, and Jimin’s not going to be the first to lose. Jimin is usually sweet and clean, poised and patient, but Jeongguk seems to have dropped his act, so Jimin decides he’s going to do exactly the same, even if it’s hard for him. With Jeongguk, he thinks he won’t mind playing a little dirty. 

Taehyung interjects loudly, turning to Jimin with a warm grin that seems somewhat nervous. “Jimin-ah, did I tell you that Jeonggukie is an artist?” 

Jimin doesn’t think before he gets snappy, even though none of this is Taehyung’s fault and he shouldn’t be taking it out on him. He quips back simply, “Well, you mentioned he’s in your photo class.” 

Taehyung recoils a little bit at Jimin’s tone, and he can tell he’s doing his best to not snap at Jimin. Normally, this is the sort of thing that would start an argument between the two of them, but Taehyung seems to be holding back for Jeongguk’s sake. He shakes off the snarkiness. “He’s really good!” 

Jeongguk blushes, lowering his knees so one of them knocks against Taehyung’s thigh. “Hyung,” he whines, “I’m average–”

Taehyung cuts him off immediately. “No, you’re amazing. You should hang some of your prints.”

With his head hung, the wavy black tendrils of Jeongguk’s hair come loose from behind his ears and cover his eyes. He mumbles when he speaks. “No, no. I don’t want to impose on your space.”

“This is your space now, too!” Taehyung argues. 

Jeongguk just shakes his head, still looking at his lap. “Ah, I guess it is.” 

Jimin crosses his legs just to give himself something to do. His anxiety is starting to overrun him; he hates that he’s sitting in a room with Jeongguk and is unable to talk to him. He hates that Jeongguk is still shy and sweet when he talks to Taehyung. He hates that Jeongguk doesn’t want him back. 

 

mood: bad habit – the kooks

 

“Jimin-ah,” Taehyung murmurs, turning to Jimin to attempt to get him engaged. “Don’t you think we could use some art?” 

Jimin looks at their bare walls. “What about your stuff?” he mutters. It’s kind of a backhanded compliment, considering he’s only bringing it up to find a way to deny Jeongguk the validation, but Taehyung’s art would look really nice in their apartment, even if a good portion of it would be… Hoseok themed. 

Taehyung looks like Jimin’s idea genuinely shocks him. “Oh,” he mutters. “I never thought of that.” 

Jimin shrugs. “Just an idea.” He bites his pizza, and when he chews it grows sticky in his mouth. 

“We could both hang stuff!” Taehyung suggests. 

Jimin just glances passively at the space between Taehyung and Jeongguk so he doesn’t have to look at either of them. “I’m fine with whatever.” 

“We can figure it out I guess.” 

There’s a beat of silence filled with sounds of chewing, but Jimin can’t even manage to take another bite of his food. He wants to get up and walk out again, but when he looks at Taehyung, he seems somewhat sad. When they meet eyes, Jimin nearly winces at the way he cocks his head, asking Jimin a silent question. Jimin swallows his tongue and his pride, and he does his best to smile at his friend. He has to keep telling himself it’s for Taehyung, no matter how uncomfortable and infuriated being around Jeongguk makes him feel. If he’s going to be selfish enough to keep Taehyung in the dark about his history with Jeongguk for now, he owes to him to act like there is none. 

Into the silence Jeongguk blurts, “Can we game now?” 

This is Jimin’s breaking point. Mentally apologizing to Taehyung, he backtracks his thoughts instantaneously. The thought of being in the same room while the two of them play is just too unpleasant. The icing on the cake is the way Jeongguk makes the demand.

He sounds somewhat impatient, his voice tight. He almost seems curt. Jimin notices his leg shaking, and he wonders how Jeongguk can be so rude in the way he speaks to Jimin and so nervous at the same time. Jimin wonders if he had actually just misread him at the bar, and that he isn’t anxious the way Jimin made him out to be. Maybe he just has a tick. Now rethinking Jeongguk entirely, Jimin wonders if he really had a read on him at all. He doesn’t know why he’s thinking about it so hard, anyway. Jeongguk clearly is not worth it, and yet, he is captivated by him. 

Jimin has barely eaten at all. 

“Sure,” replies Taehyung. He seems uneasy, looking back and forth between Jimin and Jeongguk.

“I’ll go,” Jimin says. 

Taehyung looks frantic. “Jimin-ah, we can watch something if you don’t want to watch us play.” 

Jimin just waves a hand around, knowing he’s disappointing Taehyung by leaving and not making an effort. He leaves his pizza on the paper plate and stands. “It’s fine,” he tries to make his voice a little less tight, but he’s not sure it works. “Jeongguk-ah clearly wants to play, and I have to finish my paper anyway, right? I’ll see you in the morning.”

He thinks one of them says goodnight to him, but he can’t seem to make out their voices as he walks back to his room. 

 

☾ ☾ ☾

 

mood: $ting – the neighbourhood

 

By eleven, Jimin can’t take it anymore. The noise coming from the living room has long since quieted down, and he’s so hungry he thinks he might die. The thought of running into Jeongguk is almost worth it, of course, until he runs into Jeongguk. 

When he slips into the kitchen to heat up leftover pizza, he sticks two slices in the microwave and impatiently taps his foot as he waits for it to be ready. He doesn’t bother to turn the lights on, so he just watches the light of the microwave spin his pizza in buzzing circles. Only twenty seconds pass before Jeongguk is entering the tiny space of their kitchenette. At the sight of Jimin, Jeongguk’s big, glassy eyes widen. He looks cute in black striped pajamas a little bit too big for him. He looks small. 

“Jimin,” Jeongguk says. 

Jimin wants to roll his eyes. “It’s hyung.” 

“Right,” mumbles Jeongguk, looking away. “I was just– looking around?” His voice rises at the end of his sentence, and Jimin eyes the empty glass of water he’s holding, unimpressed. It’s clear that he’s not just looking around. 

“You don’t have to tell me what you’re up to,” mutters Jimin. 

“Right,” Jeongguk repeats. He continues to stare at Jimin, bottom lip tucked into his mouth, feet frozen on the tiled floor. 

His gaze makes Jimin feel uncomfortable, so he snaps, “Do you need something?” 

“D-did I say I did?” replies Jeongguk. His words try to disguise themselves as a quip, but they seem uneasy. Everything about his mannerisms are confusing to Jimin. 

He raises his eyebrows in response. He wishes the seconds on the microwave were going faster. It feels like they’ve said so much just in the span of thirty seconds. 

Jimin clicks his tongue, irritated, but it doesn’t seem to stop Jeongguk from trying again to speak to him, even though Jimin is sure that he’s made it clear that he has no desire to. 

“L-listen… Jimin,” starts Jeongguk again. 

“It’s hyung, ” Jimin spits impatiently. How can he still be doing this deliberately? Does he want to piss Jimin off that badly?

“Right,” Jeongguk says for the third time. “Um.” He pauses to scratch behind his ear. “Are you good?” 

Jimin’s incredulous. He watches the microwave, 10, 9, 8. “Am I good? ” Jimin repeats, not even sure what the question is asking. 

“I just mean–” 

The microwave beeps, and Jimin moves wordlessly around Jeongguk, removing the plate and setting it on the counter to listen to Jeongguk even though he doesn’t really want to. He just can’t help himself when it comes to the things he has to say. He feels like once Jeongguk starts speaking, he’s always going to have to hear it through. 

“You were saying?” he asks when Jeongguk stays silent. His hair is in his eyes, and his mouth is turned down. Jimin thinks that if they were sitting down, his leg would probably be shaking, but he chases that thought away. 

“Ah, it’s–” Jeongguk starts. He clears his throat. He speaks very softly, forming his words like he’s afraid of them. “This might be hard.” 

This time Jimin really does roll his eyes, unsure if Jeongguk catches it in the low light. He does his best to keep his voice down, not that Taehyung would be sleeping at this hour but still trying not to draw attention. In the end it’s more for the sake of keeping himself calm anyway. 

“Hard?” Jimin exclaims in a harsh whisper. “Right, you’ve made that plenty clear, Jeongguk-ah. Let’s make it easy then. How about we don’t talk about it, hm? I don’t need you being a brat to me in my own apartment.” 

He gets a little bit carried away, but he doesn’t miss the way Jeongguk’s soft, open face hardens into something a little closer to anger. 

“I wasn’t being a brat.” 

Jimin grabs his plate, ready to leave and go back to his room. “Then what was that, huh? Pretending you don’t know me, that I’m your hyung. Grow up, Jeongguk-ah. You did a pretty good job of ignoring me over text, so how about we just do ourselves a favor and do the same thing in person?” 

Jeongguk’s eyebrows knit together. He absently starts to crack the knuckles of his big hands. “I don’t want to do that.” 

Jimin just rolls his eyes again, not giving a fuck about what Jeongguk wants. He already made his decision, anyway. Brushing past Jeongguk’s broad shoulders as he walks out, he mutters, “Whatever,” and returns to his refuge. 

The pizza tastes gross. 

 

☾ ☾ ☾

Jimin does a surprisingly good job of avoiding Jeongguk thereafter. Some of it is circumstantial – Jeongguk likes to sleep late and he spends a lot of time either in his room alone or on campus – but there are still moments when they could have crossed paths but don’t. Taehyung seems suspicious, but he’s just as caught up in the tide of school as the rest of them. Jimin spends the rest of the weekend out of the house, convincing Namjoon to hang out with him again which doesn’t take much actual convincing at all. 

They bike to the river to get a taste of spring. The cherry blossoms have started to bloom, and the newness of it all unsettles Jimin a little bit. Color is everywhere. It reminds him that things are changing. That things always come back. 

Circles.

Jimin knows he’s being unusually quiet, and he knows that Namjoon knows it too, but they both just allow themselves to be in each other’s presence, no questions asked. He chooses not to tell him about the roommate situation yet, and Namjoon doesn’t ask. He never tries to make smalltalk with Jimin. He never beats around the bush in that regard, and when he can see that something is on Jimin’s mind, he always lets Jimin come to him first. 

Jimin is eternally grateful for him. 

At the riverside park, Namjoon shows him the music he worked on with Yoongi the night before. He reads poetry to him in English that sounds pretty but Jimin can’t really understand. He hears the words, “Smile, for your lover comes!” and he thinks maybe he picks up on enough. Even when he gives up on translating words in his mind and instead listens passively, Namjoon’s voice soothes him, a backdrop to the thoughts of him trying to reconcile the feeling of being uncomfortable in his own apartment. 

 

mood: waiting for you – the aces

 

Throughout the week, he has late nights at the studio and in the library. He tries to pretend Jeongguk isn’t there, becoming more and more grateful for their separate rooms with each coming day. Whenever Jimin sees him, Jeongguk always avoids his eyes; it almost feels like Jeongguk can’t even bear to look at him. Jimin takes this as the cue to continue to not talk to him. Sometimes Jeongguk tries, Jimin keeps it curt. He’ll use some clever quip to cut the conversation off and then disappear to his room. 

He misses sitting on his couch. 

Sometimes Jeongguk will see him coming home late and ask, “Did you eat dinner?” still avoiding Jimin’s eyes, all gruff and mumbled. 

Jimin always responds the same way, snappy and childish with, “Why do you care?” because that’s truly always the question. 

Sometimes Jeongguk will follow up after checking the time and say, “You look tired,” which infuriates Jimin beyond belief. If there was any other way for Jeongguk to comment on his appearance, he’d take it. He’d rather be called ugly to his face than be given some sort of half-insult, an acknowledgement that he looks bad but trying to cover it up by just saying he looks exhausted. No one wants to be told they look tired. Especially not Jimin. He is tired. 

He’ll grit back, “Thanks, that’s nice,” and storm to his room. 

By midweek he’s taken up the habit of not only avoiding conversation with Jeongguk, but looking at him, too. He’s too cute. He looks too much like the boy that cracked at his exterior. He’s always comfortable at home, in sweats and joggers that are tight at his tiny waist but baggy down his long legs. He drowns in hoodies and t-shirts and his fingers are always poking out of the ends like they’re shy. 

Jimin, despite himself, starts to notice everything about him. His curiosity gets the best of him, so one afternoon he pokes his head into Jeongguk's room when he’s not home to see how tidy it is. Jeongguk always washes dishes right after he uses them. When he cooks, it’s always enough to last for more than one day. He only makes protein shakes in the afternoon so that the blender doesn’t bother anyone too early or too late. He never wears clothes when he walks to and from the shower, only a towel. 

That point is particularly infuriating, because it makes Jimin mad at himself for wanting him so badly. Jimin is still very much infatuated by him, and it’s frustrating to find his habits cute or his mannerisms endearing, because as much as Jimin likes him, Jeongguk seems to do everything in his power to make sure Jimin knows that the opposite is true from his end. 

It feels like Jeongguk is constantly calling Jimin out on the habits he has, how he looks, the little things that he does. They’re just small comments, but they feel like constant reminders that Jeongguk doesn’t want him at all. Maybe he’s even annoyed by Jimin. But it feels like Jeongguk is always watching him. He stares at Jimin if he bends over to pick something up, like he was wrong to have dropped it in the first place. He keeps his eyes glued to Jimin if he walks around without his shirt. He sometimes lingers in the kitchen while Jimin is cooking, as if he’s silently judging him. 

One night after class, Jeongguk walks in the door while Jimin is goofily dancing for Taehyung in the living room, doing a parody of his own routine with Hoseok. Jimin doesn’t even notice Jeongguk is there until he feels the heavy weight of his judging gaze on him, and Jimin stops at once. 

Sometimes Jeongguk even dares to linger by Jimin’s room where the door is always open. He and Taehyung have the habit of keeping them cracked so they can yell to each other from down the hall, and when he sees Jeongguk idling there with wide, curious eyes and meek posture, Jimin is forced to snap, “What do you want?” from where he’s doing homework at his desk. Jeongguk always jolts and walks away without even answering. 

Jimin starts closing his door. 

Naturally Taehyung approaches him eventually, nearly a week after Jeongguk moved in and the tension is starting to get to him. He follows Jimin into his room after Jimin gets home from practice, and just as Jimin is about to ask him if he can shower before they chat, he sees the look on Taehyung’s face. 

Slightly nervous, Jimin tosses his dance bag on the floor and runs his fingers through his hair nervously. Taehyung is scowling, and he looks scary. Taehyung is always somewhat of an intimidating person, but Jimin has known him and been close with him for so long that he’s usually unaffected by it. Right now, Jimin is certainly affected, and in more ways than one. Yes, Taehyung looks somewhat daunting, but Jimin is also worried, knowing that he has upset or disappointed his friend in some way. He lets Taehyung speak. 

“Why do you hate Jeongguk?” Taehyung snaps at him. “And why is he so weird around you? Did you say something to him?”

Jimin finds himself irritated with the barrage of questions, but he owes it to Taehyung not to snap. Still somewhat petty in his answer, he replies with his perception of the truth. “I don’t hate him,” he argues childishly. “He hates me.” 

Taehyung looks unimpressed. He has his arms folded across his chest. Though this happens rarely, Taehyung feels very far away from Jimin. “No he doesn’t, Jimin-ah.” 

Jimin can’t help him. He raises his eyebrows, a million examples that prove him otherwise running through his head. “Have you asked him?”

Taehyung sighs. “No, whenever I try to talk to him about you, he gets all shy.” 

Curious, Jimin asks, “What does he say?” 

“Nothing!” Taehyung exclaims, exasperated. “He usually just says, ‘Ah, Jimin-hyung is fine…’ or something like that. Did you say anything to him?” he presses. 

“Why do you think it’s me who said something?” counters Jimin. He’s being immature, but Jeongguk just gets under his skin, and he still doesn’t feel ready to explain everything to Taehyung. He doesn’t have the words for it, afraid he’ll sound stupid, or too emotional, or that he’s in the wrong even though Jeongguk has hurt him more than he’d care to admit. That’s the root of the problem, really – accepting the fact that Jeongguk is in a position to hurt him at all. Jimin usually doesn’t let people close enough to even touch him, let alone his heart.

Even though Taehyung has seen him at his weakest, something about this feels different, knowing Jeongguk is his friend. 

Taehyung’s voice grows a little bit gentler when he replies, “Jimin-ah, baby, you have kind of a sharp tongue sometimes.” 

It’s true, but that’s still not the reason. “Well, I didn’t. He just doesn’t like me, so I avoid him.” 

Taehyung eyes him suspiciously, arms still folded, stature seeming much bigger than Jimin. He looks at Jimin like the old friend he is, like he can see right through Jimin and is assessing the inside of his mind. “There’s something you’re not telling me.” 

“Taehyungie,” Jimin sighs. He pleads with his eyes for the conversation to end. He hopes somehow Taehyung can understand that this is making him uncomfortable, that even though there is something, he’s not ready to address it. “It’s fine. We’ll get over it, I promise.” 

“You better,” Taehyung replies, but it’s warmer than his voice was before. “He’s my friend and I don’t like that you’re mean to him.”

Jimin pouts, feeling like it’s okay to be a little bit playful. “He’s mean to me!” 

Taehyung shakes his head, but it’s fonder. Amused. “Well, I’ll talk to him too, then.” 

 

mood: tension – børns

 

He ends up leaving Jimin with a hug and a swat on the butt, telling him to go “clean his sweaty ass up.” Jimin lets the water drown his thoughts, taking his time as the steam soothes his sore muscles and the sound of the water hitting the tiles muffles his stream of consciousness. 

He’s not sure how much time has passed by the time he gets out, but he continues to move slowly, toweling his hair before tying the cloth firmly around his waist. He wipes away condensation from the mirror to take a look at himself. He pushes his hair back, noting that he’s looking more toned these days from all of the practice he’s been doing. He’s slightly pink from the heat, but he looks good. He feels good. Just as he leans forward to inspect his face to pick at his skin, the door swings open. 

There’s Jeongguk in the doorframe, in a white t-shirt that comes to his mid-thighs and dark green cargo pants that are probably more comfortable than they look. His eyes are each the size of the moon, and his pretty lips fall open at the sight of Jimin. 

Jimin turns to him, one hand gripping his towel self-consciously. He scowls and blushes at once, both embarrassed and irritated to be walked in on like this. “Can’t you knock?” Jimin asks, ignoring the way he neglected to lock the door. 

Jeongguk flushes, toying with his shirt sleeves as he stutters out, “O-oh, I’m sorry.” 

Jimin hates how endearing he is, shy and blushing and so much like what he was the first night they met. He forces himself to stay mad even though he’s pretty certain Jeongguk is being sincere. It would be too much to forgive him right now, so easily, enveloped by steam. “No, you’re not.” 

Jeongguk holds up his hands, looking up at Jimin and then dropping his gaze to Jimin’s body right away, almost like he can’t help it. “I am, I swear, I didn’t–”

Jimin goes through a moment of wishing he could cover himself, but then he registers the way Jeongguk is looking at him. Squaring his shoulders a little bit, Jimin snaps, “Then why are you still here? Get out.” 

Jeongguk stammers again, his eyes wandering along the sharpness of Jimin’s collarbones, down the toned, wet skin of his abdomen. He bites his lip. “I’m sorry, you’re just–” 

He exhales, and Jimin gets goosebumps despite himself. He manages to roll his eyes even though he finds Jeongguk’s gaze paralyzing. “Oh, now you decide you want me?” he questions. 

Jeongguk looks down, curling and uncurling his fingers. “Hyung, I’m sorry. You just–” He pauses to look Jimin up and down, and finally, finally he meets Jimin’s eyes. “You look really good. Sorry.” 

Jimin is shocked by his words, but he doesn’t stumble because of them. “How come this is the thing that gets you your manners back, hmm? You remember I’m your hyung all of the sudden? You’ve been so rude.” 

Jeongguk chews his lip and blinks his glassy eyes, taking a deep breath. Confidence somehow suddenly switched on, he says in a low voice, “I could still make you feel good.” 

 

mood: redemption – kendrick lamar, zacari, babes wodumo

 

Jimin’s eyes widen, and the temptation sweeps him up immediately. He bites the bullet. Feeling brave to finally have Jeongguk in the palm of his hand instead of feeling at his mercy, he dares to say, “Oh, yeah? Show me then.” 

Jeongguk remains frozen in place, still cutely staring at Jimin like he can’t believe he’s in front of him. Jimin chuckles, and it’s not menacing like he wants it to be – it’s endeared. He grabs Jeongguk by the shirt to get him out of the doorway and then shuts the door behind him only to press Jeongguk against it. Jimin’s incredulous at himself, that he’s letting it happen, that they’re even in the position for it to happen at all. As he’s shaking his head at the reality of it, Jeongguk takes the opportunity to touch Jimin. When his big hand makes contact with Jimin’s bare waist, Jimin nearly jolts. 

Jeongguk’s mouth finds its way to Jimin’s neck, ghosting his lips there. “Hyung,” he whimpers. Jimin can’t even place the way his tone sounds. It’s not mean or aggressive. It makes Jimin unsettled. 

Finding his voice, Jimin thinks back to when they fucked, the way he called Jeongguk good, how sweet he was, the way he took the time to figure out everything Jimin liked. “You’ve been such a brat, Jeon Jeongguk. I can’t believe I ever called you good.” 

Jeongguk whines as he presses a kiss to Jimin’s neck, and when he looks up, his big eyes are pleading. He leans in to meet Jimin’s mouth, but Jimin turns his face at the last moment, giving him the cheek. 

“Hyung,” Jeongguk breathes. “Just kiss me.” 

Jimin huffs, trying it hard to stay angry with the way Jeongguk’s big hands are gently tracing the damp skin of his back. He wonders if Jeongguk gets it. He wonders if Jeongguk understands that Jimin is angry in order to avoid feeling hurt. He wonders if he knows all of the quips are a facade of callousness to avoid being soft. 

He’s not sure when his own hands settled on Jeongguk’s hips, but there they sit, fisted in the soft material of his worn white shirt to avoid reaching beneath it. 

“Why should I?”

Jeongguk chuckles, and his confidence is both sexy and aggravating. “Because it makes you feel good,” he explains, now kissing along Jimin’s jaw. He uses his mouth like he’s trying to convince Jimin, as if Jimin needs any reminder of how good it feels. 

Jimin acquises because he wants it. Because of the ache for Jeongguk that hasn’t left. Because if he wants to, he can turn it into a competition. 

“Just know I’m doing it for me, not for you,” Jimin argues. He’s not sure if it’s a weak argument or a strong argument at this point, because by now Jeongguk has got Jimin’s head tipped back and is leaving the sweetest, warmest kisses along his jugular. His big, tattooed hand is carding through Jimin’s slowly drying hair.

“It’s a little bit for me,” says Jeongguk quietly, pressing his words into Jimin’s skin like they’ll stay there, seep through his pores. 

“Don’t test your luck, Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin bites.

“Sorry, hyung,” mumbles Jeongguk into Jimin’s neck. His hand is gentle and soothing as he scratches at Jimin’s scalp. Their chests are so close together that Jimin wonders if Jeongguk’s shirt is starting to get wet. 

“Why are you apologizing now, huh, brat?” Jimin exhales, even though he knows he sounds harmless. He thinks at this point, anything he says will fall flat. He’ll be liquid on the tiles of their bathroom floor. “You’re still bad.” 

Jeongguk leans up from Jimin’s neck to glance at him. His pupils are blown wide, but he looks sweet. He’s gorgeous. He makes Jimin want to memorize him. Jimin wants to learn him like moves and lines so he can perform them back to Jeongguk, so he can make sure that he knows how beautiful he is. 

The soft contours of his face curve into a smirk, and as he leans closer he mutters, “Let me be good then.” 

Jimin giggles at him again despite himself, liking the way Jeongguk slips into character at the same time that he breaks his own. Though he tries to stifle it when he quips back, it does no good. Jeongguk cracks at all his weak points. “Where on earth did you get your attitude?” 

Jeongguk shrugs, but he’s fighting a smile. “Last time, I had you saying please to me.” 

Finally giving in fully, Jimin releases one of his hands from Jeongguk’s shirt and brings it up to cup his jaw. He runs his fingers along Jeongguk’s cheek before coming to thumb along his full lower lip. “I think you just want me to shut you up.” 

Jeongguk relents and flashes Jimin a pretty smile, leaning into Jimin’s touch. “Maybe I do.” 

Jimin fights his own grin so he can lean in to kiss Jeongguk, bringing both hands to cup his face and pull him close. It’s like a sigh of relief to be kissing him again. They move so easily together. He lets his hands wander Jeongguk’s shoulders and neck, carding through his soft wavy hair, touching his pretty cheekbones. Jeongguk holds him close, patient as Jimin kisses him. He still just touches Jimin’s back, tracing the dip of his spine like it’s a river that guides him. His touch is so gentle, and it’s like all the tension that was laced between them dissolves at the feeling of their bodies coming together. It might be purely physical, but for a few moments, as Jimin opens his mouth to Jeongguk, as their tongues brush and their teeth nip at one another, the conflict disappears. They’re just two bodies in a warm space. 

The ease of the kiss drives forward toward a climax, Jimin losing more control as he feels heat pooling in his stomach. Jeongguk only presses closer, slipping one of his legs between Jimin’s thighs, still covered by just his towel. When Jeongguk whines as Jimin bites his lower lip, Jimin quite nearly loses it, hating how much he wants someone who clearly doesn’t like him. Who maybe only wants him for this. He doesn’t understand how emotions like that could breed a kiss like this. 

He’s panting when he pulls away, but Jeongguk is relentless. His big hands come to hold Jimin’s waist as he kisses his neck again. 

“Jimin-hyung,” Jeongguk mumbles. His breath is elevated, his skin warmer than it was before. Beneath his shirt, he’s starting to grow a little bit tacky, heat building from the lingering steam and the feeling Jimin ignites beneath his skin. 

“What,” Jimin whispers sharply, still making somewhat of an attempt to keep his guard up. He runs his nails gently down Jeongguk’s biceps. 

“Let me suck you off,” says Jeongguk, closing his lips over Jimin’s collarbone and nipping lightly. One of his hands comes to the knot of Jimin’s towel. 

Jimin tenses just a little bit, but he can’t deny the way he wants it. Want for Jeongguk has stitched itself into him. It’s become a part of his pattern. He almost feels coded for it, like he can do nothing else but want him. Even though it should be hard for him, it’s just so easy. Jeongguk is the most beautiful sonnet come to life – a song, breathing. He’s infuriating, but in this moment, it feels like every part of him that’s driven Jimin to keep away from him is suddenly drawing him closer. 

 

mood: good company – mahalia, terrace martin 

 

“Why should I?” Jimin asks. It’s a pointless question, but it’ll keep their game going for a little while longer. 

“Because you want it,” Jeongguk replies. He scratches lightly at Jimin’s obliques, and it makes him shiver violently. 

“Oh,” Jimin breathes. “Jeonggukie thinks he knows me so well.” 

Jeongguk stands straight up to look at Jimin, and his eyes are as earnest as ever. It’s frustrating beyond belief. He presses a single kiss to Jimin’s lips and states frankly but softly, “I’ll make you feel good, I know that.” 

Jimin cracks a smile, pushing on Jeongguk’s shoulders to press him against the door again. “Mmh, so confident, too. What happened to the shy boy I had to sweet talk at the bar, huh, Jeongguk-ah?” 

Jeongguk’s eyes widen, and he takes a moment to answer. His confidence seems weakened at Jimin’s words, looking meek again, looking nervous. “He’s still here,” he whispers. 

Jimin chuckles. How does Jeongguk fucking do it? How does he go back and forth so quickly? “Liar,” Jimin bites, and then reality settles in. Raising one hand to rub at his eyes he mutters, “Fuck, I shouldn’t even be doing this.” 

“How come?” 

Because apparently, you only want me to fuck, Jimin thinks. Such a thing has never bothered Jimin before. He usually wants exactly that. He doesn’t want his partners to be able to see past his chest and into his heart, past his eyes and into his mind – but here’s Jeongguk, the first person in a long time who’s made him feel like maybe something like that’s worth having, proving him wrong. 

Yet in the moment, such a thought isn’t bothering him as much as he knows it will after this all. Right now, he wants Jeongguk on his knees, and the way he looks at Jimin or talks to Jimin after they’re outside of this bathroom doesn’t seem to matter all too much. 

“You know why,” Jimin replies, looking away. 

Jeongguk reaches a finger under Jimin’s chin and speaks against his lips. “I’m gonna suck you off, hyung.” 

Sighing, he leans in to kiss Jeongguk once, and when he pulls back, Jeongguk flips them quickly so that Jimin’s back is against the door – and Jeongguk is already sinking to his knees by the time Jimin replies, “Okay, Jeon.”

From the floor, Jeongguk looks up at him with bright eyes. He licks his lips before pressing them to Jimin’s hip bone. At the sight, Jimin closes his eyes and leans his head back against the door. Jeongguk’s big hands hesitate over Jimin’s towel, asking wordlessly in contrast to the way he demanded before. Jimin just laces his hands in Jeongguk’s hair and lets him do whatever he’s going to do. 

It only takes one move of his wrist before Jimin’s towel is falling to the floor, and in an instant Jeongguk is taking Jimin’s hard cock into his hand. It curves up toward his stomach without the barrier of the towel, and the first thing Jeongguk does is pump his hand a few times and bite a mark into Jimin’s hip. Jimin shifts above him, stopping the movement of his hips and wishing he was more annoyed about the fact that he’s going to have another bruise the shape of Jeongguk’s mouth on his body after all of this is over. 

He seems to want to tease, working his hand slowly, probably wanting Jimin to get vocal with him again. He probably wants Jimin to say please. 

But Jimin refuses. He tightens his grip in Jeongguk’s hair to get him to look up, and with a gravelly voice Jimin wonders aloud, “Didn’t you say you were gonna suck me off, baby?”

Jeongguk blinks up at him owlishly. Thumb running over the head of Jimin’s cock to get his abdomen to clench and tremble, he asks, “Did you decide you want it now, hyung?” 

Jimin smiles faintly at his cheeky remark and then comes to cup Jeongguk’s face with one hand. He brushes along Jeongguk’s mouth again, eyes trained on his little freckle beneath his lips and the way they part at Jimin’s touch. “Oh, Jeongguk. It was never a problem of wanting. It’s a problem of having. You get that, don’t you?” 

Jeongguk bites his lip and leans forward to take the head of Jimin’s cock in his mouth. He suckles lightly and pulls back, eyes trained on the way Jimin’s eyelids flutter. “I guess,” he replies, but it’s noncommittal. He doesn’t seem to care about what Jimin is saying, and Jimin doesn’t really care either. Not now that Jeongguk has one hand fisted at the base of Jimin’s cock and the other cupping Jimin’s ass. Not now that Jeongguk is bobbing his head up and down Jimin’s length, getting him nice and slick. 

His pretty lips are red and stretched swollen around him, and as he adjusts, he begins to take Jimin deeper, eventually moving both hands to squeeze Jimin’s ass as he takes the length of his cock further and further down his throat. Jimin plays nice, even though he wants to buck his hips he stays still – he just sits back and watches. Jeongguk is so good that at some points Jimin wants to lean his head back against the door and close his eyes, but it’s not worth it to look away. 

Jimin moans quietly, unsure if Taehyung is still home and not willing to find out the hard way. When Jeongguk pulls off to catch his breath, he doesn’t still his hands, still playing Jimin’s ass and using light, gentle fingers to tease at his hole. He presses his head to Jimin’s thigh and then bites at the soft skin on the inside of his leg before taking Jimin’s cock back into his mouth and pushing him up against the door. 

He starts moving faster, giving up on any attempt to deep throat and exchanges it for being wet and messy. He uses a tight fist to twist at the base of Jimin’s cock as he bobs up and down quickly, knowing Jimin’s close from the grip in his hair and the way he tenses his stomach. Jimin lets out gasps as quietly as he can, and then he’s making eye contact with Jeongguk right before he comes to make sure it’s okay. Jeongguk’s eyes simply glint in the bright light of the bathroom, and then Jimin’s shooting down Jeongguk’s throat, finally closing his eyes with a groan. He relaxes his hands in Jeongguk’s hair to pet at him in the only form of praise he can bear to offer right now. 

Jeongguk stands after a moment, wiping his mouth and averting his eyes. Jimin pants into the air and then brings a hand to Jeongguk’s stomach, dragging it down to his waistband. He wants to feel the weight of Jeongguk’s big cock in his hand, wants to take it into his mouth – but when he goes to reach beneath the material of his pants, Jeongguk’s big hand stops him. 

“It’s okay,” Jeongguk mutters. He’s looking at the floor. 

Jimin gazes straight at him, keeping his gaze away from his cherry red lips and instead trying to reach his eyes. He doesn’t even get eye contact. 

“What?” Jimin whispers. “It’s fine, I’ll get you off–”

“It’s okay,” Jeongguk says again, removing Jimin’s hand entirely. Jimin suddenly feels very exposed, so he reaches down for his towel and wraps it securely around his waist even though Jeongguk isn’t looking at him in the slightest. 

“Jeongguk– what–” Jimin mutters, incredulously. He takes a step forward, and then Jeongguk takes his chance, ducking his head and reaching for the handle of the door before Jimin can even think of stopping him. 

Then Jimin is alone in the bathroom which has now lost all of its steam, staring in the mirror that’s holding onto his fingerprints, wondering why Jeongguk, the boy who’d asked to be held before they fell asleep together, doesn’t even want Jimin to touch him.

Notes:

phewwww here we are at the end i guess!! i hope everyone enjoyed the chapter! things get better... eventually... i promise! i will likely update next weekend but maybe earlier if things stay on the track they are on at the moment.

once again, i hope everyone is staying safe and taking care of themselves to the best of their means during these scary times.

Chapter 3: dark

Summary:

Jimin is immediately hit with a rush of arousal, and he has to remind himself to have a little bit of self-control, because at the sight of Jeongguk, he’s tempted to fuck him like a lover instead of man who left him alone in his bed. Jeongguk is every person’s daydream.

Notes:

hi i'm back kind of early bc i was just so excited about this chapter!! i don't know if i'll be able to continue updating at a faster pace because i want to write my best for you and school is unfortunately extremely time consuming but i will try. please be warned this chapter is 50% (maybe 60%) porn buttt we find out a little bit more about jk. please enjoy 17k of an emotional rollercoaster!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

 

mood: breakers – local natives

 

“I’m sorry, there was a line. I’ll be there in like, five minutes,” Jimin says into the receiver of his phone. 

Namjoon’s laugh crackles through the line. “It’s fine, I’ll just loiter outside your door and be sure to look extra creepy.” 

Jimin giggles, turning over the bottle of wine he picked in his hand, lazily inspecting the label on the back before tucking it under his arm. “Or you can knock and see if someone is home?” 

“You mean you don’t want me to scare off your neighbors?” 

Jimin laughs again. “Hyung, there’s literally nothing scary about you – you stop to talk to butterflies. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” 

He hangs up, pleased to see he’s next in line, and he thanks the clerk after he pays. He walks back happily to his apartment, ready for another week to be over and to spend some time with his friend before his weekend is overwhelmed by homework. He swings the plastic bag with the wine in it on his wrist as he hops up the stairs to his apartment, but when there’s no Namjoon in sight, he knows someone has let him in. 

Jimin remembers that Taehyung has a date with Hoseok tonight, so when he opens his unlocked front door, he takes a deep breath and mentally prepares himself to talk to Namjoon about Jeongguk, who has probably shyly retreated back into his bedroom by now. He doesn’t seem like the type to want to talk to strangers. 

What he doesn’t expect to see when he walks into his apartment is Jeongguk with his head hooked over Namjoon’s shoulder, both of them standing in the middle of the living room and looking at something on Namjoon’s phone. 

Their eyes both flash over to Jimin as soon as he opens the door, and Namjoon immediately comes over to Jimin, laughing delightedly. “You didn’t tell me Jeon Jeongguk was your new roommate, Jimin-ah,” Namjoon says warmly into his ear. 

Jimin forces himself to chuckle along, running his hands along the broad expanse of Namjoon’s back and murmuring back, “To be fair, when I told you I was getting a new roommate, I didn’t know it was him, either.” 

He hears Jeongguk laugh awkwardly from beside him, and when Namjoon pulls away from his hug, he immediately goes back to Jeongguk to drape an arm over his shoulders.

“Who knew my favorite dongsaengs were living together,” Namjoon chuckles happily, clearly amused at the situation. 

Jimin twists the plastic bag around his wrist; some of his fingers break through the flimsy material where they dig into it. “Who knew,” he echoes. 

“Are you headed somewhere?” Namjoon asks Jeongguk, using the arm that’s not wrapped around his shoulders to ruffle his already messy hair. It’s only then that Jimin notices the bag slung over his shoulder, the light coat draped over his frame. 

“Oh, yeah,” says Jeongguk quietly. He only looks at Namjoon. Jimin shifts uncomfortably, wishing it were easier to look away from them. They’re clearly close – Jeongguk looks at Namjoon with stars in his eyes, and Namjoon looks at Jeongguk like he’s as bright as the night sky itself. Jimin isn’t even jealous. He just feels sick with questions that he’ll have to wait to ask until he and Namjoon are alone. 

“I’m actually going to meet Yoongi-hyung now,” Jeongguk tells Namjoon. A distant part of Jimin sours knowing that Jeongguk is close with someone who Jimin has wanted to meet for a long time, but Namjoon has never agreed to introduce them. 

Jeongguk continues, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. “He wants me to sing for him, but I don’t know if I actually will.” He cracks a wry smile. “I might just make him buy me lamb skewers.”

Namjoon shoves him. “Yah, you brat. You should sing. Besides, I think he’s planning on having you lay down some of my lyrics, so do it for me.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes playfully, cracking a smile. Jimin hasn’t seen him so relaxed and happy since the night they met. “Okay, hyung,” Jeongguk drones. “For you.” 

He says it in a teasing voice, but it sounds like he means it. 

Namjoon just shakes his head at him, dropping the arm from around his shoulder and pushing him toward the door. “Now go, Gguk, you’re gonna be late and then both Seokjin and Yoongi will beat your ass.” 

“What does Seokjin-hyung have to do with this?” Jeongguk whines as he rushes to put his shoes on, falling over a little bit. 

“Everything!” says Namjoon, laughing. “Somehow he’ll find out that you were late and you know he’ll give you shit for it.” 

“He’s not even coming!” 

“You know that’s not relevant,” chides Namjoon, still grinning at the thought of his friends. His dimples are in full bloom, and Jimin wants him for himself, wants Jeongguk to be gone so he can finally relax and spill his heart all over their stupid photo-covered walls. 

Jeongguk just shakes his head and turns over his shoulder. He ducks his face out of sight as soon as he realizes Jimin is watching him, and as he slips through the doorway he mutters, barely audible, “Bye, hyungs.” 

Then he’s gone, and Jimin is still frozen in place, the plastic bag wrapped around his wrist so many times that it’s probably close to cutting off his circulation. He undoes it carefully, toes off his shoes, and places the bottle on their coffee table, wordlessly going to get glasses from the kitchenette as Namjoon begins to talk. 

“Seriously,” he starts, “I cannot believe that he’s your roommate. I’ve known him since he was a kid. He makes music with me, Yoongi, and Hoseok – when we can convince him.”

“Aish,” Jimin musters softly. “Small world.” 

He sets the glasses down and then seats himself on the couch, not wanting to uncork the bottle until Namjoon joins him. Jimin counts down in his head for the question to arise. 

“Jimin-ah,” murmurs Namjoon. “How are you doing?” 

And there it is. It’s another thing on the list of things Jimin loves about Namjoon: he never asks what’s wrong , he always asks how are you –  because the world has taught him that even when things have gone wrong, sometimes, he’s still doing just fine. Temporary pain doesn’t always mean long-term suffering.

“Ah, hyung,” Jimin starts, putting his head in his hands. “Things are a bit of a mess.” 

“Does it have anything to do with the reason why you look at Jeonggukie like you want to kill him?” Namjoon asks. 

Jimin groans into his palms. 

“I do not look like that,” Jimin argues. 

“Please tell me how you would describe it,” Namjoon probes, still teasing. 

“Well, I don’t know,” Jimin says snappily, “I don’t spend a lot of the time looking in the mirror while I talk to him!” 

“Okay,” Namjoon says slowly, knowingly. He rubs a hand between Jimin’s shoulder blades and then stands. He disappears for a few seconds and then returns with the corkscrew that Jimin had forgotten to grab. He opens the wine easily, pours them each a glass, and then thrusts one in Jimin’s direction. “From the beginning, then.” 

 

mood: lately ii – coin

 

Jimin sits up straighter and sighs, thinking maybe this is a good test run for when he finally opens up to Taehyung. It’s already been two weeks of the three of them living together, and since Jimin and Jeongguk had their run-in in the bathroom, they’ve done a bang up job of ignoring each other again. Jimin isn’t even the only one being avoidant and nasty now – it’s both of them, caught up in a game of chasing each other away – but he knows it’s getting to Taehyung, and he knows Taehyung is just as worried about Jeongguk as he is about Jimin. 

  It seems that everyone Jimin is close with is close to Jeongguk, too, so he can’t expect a bias from anyone. He sips his wine as he replays the way Jeongguk and Namjoon acted so loving and brotherly, and of course, the first thing he notices is the way he can’t help but feel happy to see Jeongguk easy-going and confident. He looked like himself. Jimin doesn’t know what he does to make Jeongguk act and feel otherwise. 

“I hate him,” Jimin starts. 

Namjoon laughs. “No offense, Jimin-ah, but you’re going to have to give me a little more to work with. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone capable of hating Jeon Jeongguk, so you’re gonna have to give me some context.” 

“I was getting there,” Jimin mumbles. His problem is that he doesn’t even know where to start. He stalls to make the time to think of how to tell this ridiculous story. “How do you even know him?” 

Namjoon smiles fondly. He’s clad in soft thermal henley that makes him look both comfy and smart. He has one arm stretched over the back of the couch. One of his hands is holding the stem of his wine glass delicately between three fingers, and the way he handles it makes Jimin worry he might start twirling it like he does his pen.

“Ahh, I’ve known him since he was in high school,” Namjoon murmurs nostalgically. “His family moved here from Busan, and back when I was teaching some songwriting classes as a side gig when I was still in uni, he took one.” 

Jimin blinks. “He’s from Busan?” 

Namjoon chuckles. “You didn’t know? Never speaks in Satoori around the house?” 

Jimin shakes his head. He starts to play with the hem of his sweater as he sips his wine. Somehow, knowing that they’re from the same place makes everything worse. “No, he usually just talks with Seoul dialect.” He pauses and bites his lip. “Not that we talk that much at all.” 

“You ready to stop avoiding the subject?” Namjoon asks. He knows how to tease Jimin just the right amount, so Jimin laughs with him. 

“No, but I’ll still tell you,” Jimin replies. A beat of silence rests between them, and Jimin wishes he had music playing, like he’d planned when he’d invited Namjoon over for a wine night. They were supposed to be getting drunk and laughing and working on lyrics together, but like many aspects of his life as of late, a Jeongguk-shaped obstacle seems to be getting in the way. “I just don’t know where to start.” 

Namjoon poorly stifles a laugh. “... How about with how you, um… look like you want to kill him?”

Jimin swats him. “Well, I do want to kill him!” 

Namjoon just stares at him. 

“Okay, maybe not murder, but he does piss me off.” He runs fingers through his hair, and with one more encouraging sip of wine, Jimin decides to just bite the bullet. “I met him at the club the night you blew us off for Yoongi. I didn’t know who he was or that you or Taehyung or Hoseok or anyone were friends with him. He was a total stranger. So we fucked a week before he moved in, we – well, I had a really good time, I tried to reach out to him to see him again, he ghosted me, then he moved in, and now we’re either fighting or ignoring each other at any given moment.” 

Namjoon raises an eyebrow. 

“We may have had one spotaneous bout of hate sex.” 

Namjoon raises both eyebrows. 

“I see,” says Namjoon. “So you don’t hate him.” 

“No, I do,” Jimin argues lamely. 

“You would never fuck someone you hate, Jimin-ah,” Namjoon explains lamely. 

Jimin turns his nose up at him. “Maybe I’ve changed.” 

Namjoon cocks his head as he thinks, and then he’s setting his wine class down to place a big, comforting hand on Jimin’s knee. “We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to. You’re my friends, and I care about you both very dearly and want you to be happy, but if talking about it makes you uncomfortable, we don’t have to. Does Taehyung know?” 

Jimin sighs, and he puts his glass down as well. The reality of the situation seems to set in; everyone around him loves Jeongguk, and Jimin knows he could easily be one of the people who loves him, too. Maybe part of him already is. But Jeongguk can barely look at him. He’ll fuck with Jimin, get him weak in the knees, get him so close to saying please, but he won’t even accept Jimin’s touch. 

As he considers how to answer Namjoon, he decides to spare him the details. There’s simply too much to try to catch him up on, and most of it is too hard to explain. It’ll be different when he talks to Taehyung about all of this, because Taehyung is embedded in the context. He’ll know the circumstances and the dynamic because he’s seen it at play, even if it’s not something he understands. Jimin, admittedly, just doesn’t have the patience to work out his feelings enough to try to explain them. It’s easier not to. 

The fact that Namjoon knows at all is enough. It’s not worth it to try to explain how Jeongguk makes Jimin want to call himself a fool just for feeling anything beyond anger towards him. He feels stupid for still wanting him, for knowing that it’s hard to not crack a smile when Jeongguk grins. Jimin doesn’t know how to explain that the way Jeongguk rejected him makes him feel so unwanted that it’s turned into anger. He hates that something that should have been so small has turned into something that feels so big. It makes him angry at himself, because he let it. He keeps letting it. 

And now that Jeongguk is ignoring him too, Jimin almost feels worse. How can Jimin possibly say to Namjoon that he wants to start a fight just to feel what it’s like to take a hit? Just to get Jeongguk to look at him again, to touch him again?

Yes, it’s far easier not to explain. 

 

mood: goodie bag – still woozy 

 

“No, Taehyung doesn’t know,” Jimin says finally. “I have to tell him. I’ve let it go on for too long, and Jeongguk definitely hasn’t said anything either. Tae knows something is up, but– I didn’t know how to explain it… It’s embarrassing.” 

Namjoon furrows his brow. His hand on Jimin’s knee has started to soothingly move up and down his thigh in a comforting gesture. “Why are you embarrassed?” 

Jimin bites his lip and looks away. He takes too long to answer, he knows, but he still doesn’t want to admit it. He hates showing this part of himself to Namjoon. It makes him feel sour, like he’s curdling, even if he’s telling the truth. He mumbles, “Because I liked him.” 

Namjoon’s face then softens into something of pity, which is rare for him. Jimin doesn’t want his pity – especially because he’s Jeongguk’s friend. “Jimin-ah,” he starts softly. “I doubt he hates you.”

Jimin looks away from him, biting his lip to avoid getting emotional. He tightens his voice to cut Namjoon’s probing off. “Even if he doesn’t hate me, he definitely doesn’t want me around. It’s fine.” 

Namjoon seems like he wants to say something more, but he can probably read the way Jimin is searching for an escape from the subject. “I’m sorry.”

Jimin exhales heavily through his nose. “Don’t be. It’s fine.” He cracks a cheeky smile to let Namjoon know he’s okay. “Besides, you know I put up a pretty good fight.” 

Namjoon pinches his thigh. “I’m not telling you to fight!”

Jimin shrugs. “Too late.” 

“Park Jimin,” Namjoon warns. 

Jimin is pretty sure that he’s not about to be scolded seriously, so he moves on, ignoring Namjoon’s tone and quipping, “Hyung, I invited you over to drink wine, not talk about boys.”

Reaching into his pocket, Namjoon pulls out his phone. “So if I show you this video I took of Yoongi playing with his dog, you’re not gonna watch?”

Jimin snatches the phone from him immediately, already bubbling with excitement. It feels good to think about someone else. “Okay, we can talk about your boy.”

Namjoon blanches, already haphazardly fighting Jimin to get his phone back from where he’s now holding it out of reach. “He’s not my–”

Jimin just cuts him off with a laugh and finger held up in his face. “Hyung, you dug this grave, now you’ve gotta lie at it.”

Namjoon sighs, but when Jimin hands him his phone back, they watch the video of Yoongi and a fluffy brown dog three times in a row. 

They finish the first bottle of wine easily, and Namjoon pulls another from his bag sometime afterward. They laugh together for a few hours, and they don’t talk about Jeongguk again. Jimin tries not to think about anything other than the way Namjoon looks when he laughs at something he thinks is really funny and how he smiles softly whenever Jimin asks him about Yoongi. He doesn’t bring up the way he passively wonders how often the two of them hang out with Jeongguk, and he doesn’t ask if the Seokjin that Jeongguk mentioned on his way out is the same one that Hoseok raves about – the rich guy with a fancy restaurant where he cooks and then donates his leftovers to charities. He wonders, but he swallows his questions down with the sweetness of the white wine and gives himself permission to just be present in the moment of their lowkey Friday night. 

Namjoon leaves eventually, not too late but late enough that he’s starting to worry about catching the last metro home. He parts ways with Jimin with a gentle touch on the wrist and a big hug. He sounds a little bit buzzed when he speaks warmly by Jimin’s ear, but he’s definitely less drunk than Jimin is himself. 

“Goodnight, Jimin-ah,” he murmurs. He smiles, and his eyes crinkle, rounded into semi-circles that arch into gateways, always leading somewhere. “I’m here for you, no matter what you need.”

“I know,” Jimin replies. He hiccups. This is the first time they’ve alluded to the fact that Jimin might need something at all since they’d changed subjects away from Jeongguk, but it doesn’t bother him. It’s reassuring. “Bye, hyung. Get home safely.” 

“Get some sleep,” Namjoon counters, pulling the fuzzy collar of his denim jacket more tightly around his neck. “If I catch you overworking, I’ll get Hoseok to put you in time out.” 

Jimin just laughs and waves him out the door. 

He goes through the motions of washing up afterward, scrubbing his face, drinking a glass of water, changing into his pajamas. By the time he lays down in bed, his head is swimming pleasantly from the wine. He stares up at the ceiling, tired but not ready to sleep. He jolts at the sound of the door opening, wondering who it will be. 

The answer arrives a few minutes later, when there’s a gentle knock on his closed door. Taehyung appears in his doorway, a dreamy look on his face that often appears after he gets home from a date ( when he comes home from a date) with Hoseok. He perches himself on the edge of Jimin’s bed and immediately starts petting his hair, probably knowing that Jimin is drunk just from the flush on his cheeks. 

“Hi, baby,” Taehyung murmurs. 

“Taehyung,” Jimin sighs happily. “Did you have fun with hyung?” 

“Always,” Taehyung replies. His eyes are big, and Jimin studies them. They’re hidden behind giant, wire frame glasses, but they shine their usual pretty brown. Jimin smiles up at him, tracing his beautiful symmetry. The only thing that takes away from him being exactly the same on each side of his face is the little freckle on his nose and the way one eye curves with a monolid and the other with a double lid. It only makes him more striking. Jimin is certain that Taehyung was crafted with the universe’s most deliberate, careful hands. Even late night and tired, he’s one of the most gorgeous things Jimin has ever seen. Still laying down, he reaches lazily for one of Taehyung’s big palms to intertwine their fingers. 

“How was Joonie-hyung?” Taehyung asks. 

“Good,” Jimin replies without thinking. He pauses before deciding to continue. “Did you know he’s friends with Jeongguk?” 

A look of surprise crosses Taehyung’s face. “No, I had no idea. Small world.”

Jimin chuckles. “That’s what I said. Apparently Jeongguk knows Hoseok, too.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Taehyung laughs. “We figured that one out a while ago. Those two are wild together.” 

Jimin lets himself smile just a little bit when he pictures it. He blames it on the alcohol. When he looks up at Taehyung again, Jimin sees his earnest, gentle expression. Taehyung’s warm eyes take a little bit longer to reopen after he blinks them shut, because he’s tired. Jimin owes him an explanation. 

Smacking his lips, Jimin rolls onto his side and gives Taehyung’s hand a big squeeze. 

“Taehyung-ah,” he mumbles. “I’m tired and drunk right now, but I have to tell you something, and I don’t want to tell you when I’m sleepy like this. Can you come to my bed in the morning? I might try to argue that I don’t want to tell you, but I do, so if I try to put up a fight about telling you, you can slap me, seriously.”

Taehyung chuckles warmly and smooths Jimin’s hair off of his forehead. “Okay, Jimin-ah. I’m gonna go get changed, but roll over, it’s cold. I’ll just sleep here.” 

Jimin pouts, knowing he’s no Hoseok, but he’s actually pleased that Taehyung will sleep with him. “You’re spoiled,” he whines. “You always have someone to cuddle with.” 

Taehyung just laughs at him fondly and pets his hair one more time, murmuring, “I’m sorry, babe, I’ll cuddle you more often,” as Jimin starts to slowly drift off. 

 

mood: rebellion (lies) – arcade fire

 

They both wake up slowly, blinking in the morning light. Taehyung’s back is pressed against Jimin’s chest, and when he registers where he is, he immediately turns in Jimin’s arms. He bites his lip, but because he’s Taehyung, the first thing he says, “So what do you have to tell me?”

“Already?” Jimin rasps in a low voice, trying to wriggle out of Taehyung’s grasp even though he’s only being pulled closer. 

“You told me I can slap you if you resist,” Taehyung says deviously, raising one hand to pat Jimin on the butt. 

Jimin shoves him away with a groan, throwing an arm over his head. “Ugh, what the hell is drunk me ever thinking.” 

“So you don’t want to tell me?” Taehyung asks, eyes turning wide. 

Jimin grows serious then, turning fully onto his side so that he and Taehyung can be face to face under the covers. “No, I do,” he chuckles in an attempt to keep the mood stable, “but I do regret giving you permission to hit me.” 

Taehyung just giggles. “I won’t, I promise. Now talk to me, Jimin. Counselor Taehyung is at your service.” 

“I don’t know how much of a counselling session this will be…” mutters Jimin. He sighs, not quite sure how to start. One hand running through his hair and the other playing with the material of the sheets, he decides to just be frank. 

“Taehyung-ah… remember that guy I slept with a few weeks ago? The one who ghosted me?” 

Taehyung nods, and even though he’s pulling a face that says how could I forget, he doesn’t interrupt. 

“Um,” Jimin mumbles. “That was Jeongguk.” 

Taehyung’s jaw drops, and then he closes it, staring at Jimin like he’s waiting for the punchline. When he doesn’t come, he rattles Jimin’s shoulder with one big hand and his eyebrows knit in a way that makes Jimin think he might be angry. 

“Jimin-ah!” he exclaims. His voice is still rough with sleep, and it makes him seem more upset than he probably is. Or so Jimin hopes. “Why didn’t you tell me right away?” 

He waits half a second before adding another question, another round of shock overtaking his expression. “Shit, how did neither of us mention his name? What the hell, this is insane.” 

“I don’t know,” Jimin groans, exasperated. He has wondered the very same question probably a million times, and his conclusion is always the same: it just didn’t come up. 

“Wait,” Taehyung says, thoughts bursting at the seams. He definitely has more questions than he’s asking, and Jimin is kind of dreading answering them all. “So you pretended not to know him?” 

Frowning, Jimin replies, “He pretended not to know me! He didn’t call me hyung.” 

Taehyung’s face grows exasperated, and tiredly he remarks, “Jimin-ah… that doesn’t mean he didn’t know you.” 

Jimin sits up simply to have the satisfaction of crossing his arms over his chest. “Listen Kim Taehyung. You have someone call you hyung repeatedly during sex, and you might be led to think that they will continue to call you hyung thereafter.” 

Taehyung rolls his eyes at him, sitting up as well. He sighs, mumbling, “Well, yeah. But, still…”

Jimin pinches his thigh. “Anyway, regardless of who started it, he pretended not to know me either, and he’s been an asshole ever since we moved in.” 

Taehyung still seems skeptical. Jimin can practically see the way he’s trying to review the very few interactions he’s witnessed between Jimin and Jeongguk. “Is he really rude to you?” Taehyung questions. 

“Yes!” Jimin exclaims. “And about stupid shit, too. Like, the other day, he was drinking coffee on the couch before I left for school, and when I went to put my shoes on, he looked at my outfit all judgemental and was like, ‘Are you sure you want to leave the house like that?’” Jimin’s lip curls as he recounts the story, remembering how self-conscious it made him feel. He sighs. “Why did he feel the need to comment on what I was wearing? Please just shut up and don’t talk to me?” 

Taehyung looks mildly amused. “Well, what were you wearing?” he probes. 

Jimin raises an eyebrow at him in offense. “Why does it matter?”

“I mean, maybe he was trying to help!” argues Taehyung.

Jimin huffs, annoyed that he has to defend himself so hard. Everyone in the damn world seems to have a soft spot for Jeon Jeongguk. “Help with what? Fashion? I’m sorry I’m not as blessed as him to be able to pull off sweatpants and a bucket hat every other day of the week.” 

He scowls. Stupid Jeongguk making sweatpants sexy. It’s disgusting and unfair. 

“First of all, you definitely could pull that off if you wanted to. But I’m just saying, you do have a bad habit for dressing for spring before it’s warm enough,” mumbles Taehyung.

“Okay?” 

“Well, were you wearing a t-shirt or something? Did you forget a jacket?”

Jimin shrugs, suddenly uncomfortable with the idea of Jeongguk trying to help him. His big judgemental eyes looking at Jimin like that argued otherwise, anyway. Not to mention, if he’d really wanted to help he would’ve been more direct – who would leave so much to be inferred when he could have just said it was cold outside?

“I don’t even remember,” Jimin mumbles.  

“Okay, Jimin-ah,” Taehyung concedes, giving up his fight. 

“I hate him,” Jimin growls, not knowing what else to say to justify his emotions. He wonders how mad Taehyung is at him, if he’s more angry or disappointed, if he has any questions that he’s just not asking. 

“No you don’t,” Taehyung says. 

“I do,” Jimin insists. 

Then Taehyung snaps a little, sending a mean gaze Jimin’s way, probably annoyed that Jimin is being so childish on top of the fact that he waited so long to tell him. Jimin knows it’s probably not the best approach, but seeing the way his friends seem to lean a little bit more toward Jeongguk’s side sort of pisses him off, especially when Jimin is the one who got his feelings hurt so badly. Not that Taehyung really knows the extent of it. 

“Seriously Jimin, cut the shit,” Taehyung bites. 

His tone makes Jimin’s chest hurt, because he can tell how upset Taehyung is. Jimin’s emotions hit him like a wave, building in a silent swell and now crashing all at once. The water meets the sand and suddenly his anger and his pain become all mixed up in one. “I do! He makes me feel like shit.” His throat tightens against his will, and when he continues speaking, he doesn’t realize his voice is choked off until he fails to get his words out. “I can’t believe I ever– that I thought–” 

He cuts himself off, raising a hand to cover his mouth as if pressing his palm to his lips will keep his feelings in. But cutting off his words only seems to reroute his emotions to his eyes, suddenly stinging with tears that he blinks back furiously. 

When he sees Jimin grow emotional, Taehyung immediately softens again, covering Jimin’s hands with both of his own. “Baby,” Taehyung murmurs, “what is it? You don’t have to play tough with me. Tell me what’s up, please. It hurts me when you don’t. I hate to see you like this.” 

Jimin looks down at their pile of hands. He watches Taehyung’s thumb draw a windshield wiper pattern along his knuckles. With his eyes still trained down and his voice as quiet as he can muster, he confesses, “I didn’t want to tell you this because I didn’t want you to think that I’m stupid, or gross or something.” 

He’s about to continue, but Taehyung lifts his head with two big fingers and looks him directly in the eye, both of them as serious can be despite their bedhead and morning breath and button down pajama shirts screaming that they should be anything but. 

“Jimin-ah,” Taehyung says slowly. “No matter what it is, you know I would never think that.” 

Jimin knows he’s telling the truth of course – Taehyung has been through everything with him. They’ve seen each other in just about every form. But something about this feels different, and admitting it leaves his mouth feeling dry. Maybe it’s because these are all memories that he doesn’t mind reliving. Even worse, they’re things that he wouldn’t mind doing again. 

Looking away again, Jimin mumbles, “Ah well.... we sort of. Um. We sort of hooked up again? Like – he walked in on me in the bathroom, and things got sort of tense. It was all so confusing, like I couldn’t tell if we were being genuinely mean to each other, or if we were just teasing, but then he blew me and I couldn’t say no. I didn’t want to say no, but then he just… ran away. It was like he didn’t want me to touch him at all! I don’t get it, y’know? He was asking me to kiss him, and then he wouldn’t even… let me get him off after. And wouldn’t look at me for days after. He still isn’t, really.” He pauses and clears his throat. “So, yeah. I’m an idiot, and I hate him.” 

He can feel Taehyung’s eyes on his profile, but he refuses to look up. He’s not surprised when he feels Taehyung’s big hands squeeze his own or when he hears him murmur, “Oh, Jimin-ah…”

Jimin laughs wetly, self-deprecatingly, and then he swallows his pride a little bit, knowing now is not the time to put his own anger on a pedestal. 

“I’m sorry, Tae,” Jimin whispers. “He’s your friend, and I know I’ve made things complicated for you. And I’m sorry I lied. It was wrong of me.” 

Taehyung untangles their hands to wrap both of his arms around Jimin, pulling him into an awkward hug from the side. Jimin buries his face in Taehyung’s neck and lets his shoulders shake a little bit even though he doesn’t let himself cry. 

“It’s okay, baby,” Taehyung says soothingly. “I’m not mad. I wish things weren’t so complicated, and I wish you had told me sooner so I didn’t snap at you before, but I’m always going to be here for you, okay? You’re my world, Jimin-ah. I’m not gonna interfere with this, and I’m trusting you and Gguk can both handle this however you two want. But Jiminie always comes first, you know that, right? I’m here to support you through everything.” 

Jimin twists his fingers into the fabric of Taehyung’s shirt and breathes in his sweet, woodsy smell. “Thank you,” Jimin whispers. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” Taehyung replies. “Always.” 

And when they lay back down to press their bodies together again underneath the warmth of Jimin’s heavy duvet, Jimin lets all of his emotions out into the room – they’re unspoken but they still idle in place. Feelings become like the spots of dust that linger in the air, stippling the morning light in a quiet, fickle ash, only visible when his eye focuses just right. He doesn’t have to say anything else, and yet he knows that even when his words and heart fail him, if he needs to have a talk with his soul on the days he can’t reach it, it’s laying right next to him. 

 

☾ ☾ ☾

 

mood: lovely – billie eilish, khalid 

 

Maybe it’s a misconception, but sometimes in the middle of the week, Jimin feels like he has less work than he actually does. On evenings where he can convince himself to close the tabs of schoolwork on his computer and leave his textbooks neatly stacked on his desk, he finds himself on YouTube. Nights like these don’t happen very often, because they usually end with him staying up until 4 AM, and the next day he always walks around with tired eyes hidden behind his glasses and a heavy feeling in his chest. 

He doesn’t know how it starts this time, but by midnight he’s been in the YouTube wormhole for three hours. It always starts with a song. He finds music without the hard beats and rap verses he’s used to dancing to – songs that flow, ease, fall fluidly on his ears. But it only ever takes one listen for his imagination to run wild. He abandons hip-hop for the night and leaves it with the early practice he had this morning, instead finding songs with sharp horns and aching strings, sung in English by girls with sweet voices and range that stretches octaves. He starts to think of the ways he would move, the dances he would do if he had a whole studio to himself instead of the cramped space of his tiny bedroom. And he wouldn’t ever dare do this at school, when the threat of being interrupted always lingers.

The music always steers him to old habits; he stretches on his floor, making sure he can still bend this way, can still fold that way, checking to see if he really wanted to do it, he still could. When he grows too restless to imagine dance moves he ends up watching them. He plays videos of dance teams under a dimmed light making the smallest circle of space their entire stage. He favorites the ones he imagines recreating and wonders if he’ll ever look back at them. He’s always amazed by how far the world of contemporary dance stretches, the way it bleeds into other genres and takes elements from them to turn into its own. 

Sometimes he gets so caught up that he starts to dance right there in his room, arching his back off of the floor, not daring to make illusions with his arms and legs but instead focusing on the details – the parts he can control, like the bend of his fingers and the poise of his wrists. He always catches himself in a double bind when he lets himself do this, because it’s a reminder that he could enter this world if he wanted to, if he had allowed himself – but he can’t, and he won’t, and he’s still unsure if it's something he’s worthy of having. 

By the time his head is starting to hurt from staring at his computer, he quietly slips into the kitchen to get some water, where he finds all of the lights on. Turning his head toward the living room, he spots Jeongguk, who he hasn’t said more than a few words to in days. He’s sitting on the couch with a video game controller next to him. The TV is paused as he scrolls through his phone. 

Jimin tries to get his water quietly, but even the soft, padding steps coming from his bare feet are enough to get Jeongguk to turn in his direction. Jeongguk seems to study him carefully, wide eyes blinking in the bright light.

“I heard music coming from your room,” Jeongguk notes unnecessarily. 

Jimin is reactive as ever, having not expected Jeongguk to say anything to him at all. He wonders why Jeongguk always tries to start conversations like this, with these blatant little observations that make Jimin feel like he’s being scrutinized. Shouldn’t he have something else to say? Or by now, shouldn’t he have learned how to say nothing? Jimin is sure that neither of them ever walk away from their conversations feeling good, unless overly-prideful counts as a positive. 

“Okay?” Jimin replies, keeping his voice down. Everything has been fine since he told Taehyung what happened with Jeongguk, but he still feels like every time he and Jeongguk fight, it’s a betrayal of Taehyung’s trust. At the very least, Jimin is sure it hurts his feelings. 

“Do I have to wear headphones in my own house?” Jimin adds. He’s self-conscious now, knowing that the music had been loud enough for Jeongguk to hear. Every moment he spends at home, Jimin is always trying to do the things that garner the least attention from Jeongguk, simply because he can’t handle it right. 

“I heard some classical music,” Jeongguk says, ignoring Jimin’s question. “I didn’t think you were the type to listen to classical.” 

The petty part of Jimin thinks, and I didn’t think you were the type to ghost me , but here they are. He narrows his eyes before peeling them away from Jeongguk’s form, who looks so comfortable and innocent where he’s folded up on the couch. Jeongguk always judges him so easily, and Jimin is unsure of what kind of version of himself lives in Jeongguk’s head. What could Jeongguk possibly see that makes him want to push Jimin’s buttons all the time? Jeongguk clearly doesn’t know the first thing about him, let alone what type of person he is and what kind of music touches his heart.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Jimin mumbles under his breath, and then he storms away from the living room, feet still ever-so quiet on their cold floors. 

Back in his bedroom, that heaviness has settled in his chest, and he no longer feels like dancing or dreaming of it. When he sets his water down on his bedside table, he tells himself to drink it slowly, because the sooner he needs to go to the bathroom, the sooner he’ll be reminded of Jeon Jeongguk’s damn head between his legs. 

 

☾ ☾ ☾

 

mood: all i know – the weeknd, future

There’s a reason that those YouTube nights are few and far between. The very next day Jimin is already regretting giving himself a day off, because he remembers he has a quiz that counts for 10% of his grade approximately 14 hours before he has to take it. He sets up to study in the living room to have more space, and he sits on the floor with his back against the base of the couch. Papers are spread out around him and his laptop sits as the kingpin in the middle. It’s not that he feels unprepared, per se, but studying has definitely gotten away from him, and he knows that the extra effort will go a long way. He’s not the kind of person to get to his last year of school and drop the ball just because he knows he’s close to the finish line. 

He makes it through an hour of studying before his back starts to hurt him. He stretches his arms over his head, feeling the pull of his sore, overworked muscles and listening to the pop of his shoulders. When he ducks back down to squint at the words on his laptop, he’s sorely interrupted by the sound of a throat clearing. Jimin does not look up. 

“Jimin, can you go do work in your room? I want to use the TV,” Jeongguk says. 

Jimin ignores him. He continues to stare at his laptop and scroll aimlessly even though now, under Jeongguk’s presence, he finds himself incapable of reading, let alone retaining any of the information. 

“Jimin,” says Jeongguk again. 

Jimin highlights a random line in his textbook. 

“Jimin, I know you can hear me,” Jeongguk sighs. 

On the fourth try, after another bout of silence, Jeongguk finally mutters, “Jimin-hyung.” 

Finally addressed the right way, Jimin slowly lifts his head, tucking some of his hair behind his ears and blinking up sweetly at Jeongguk standing above him. The first thing Jimin notes is that he looks far less grumpy than he sounds.

“Hmm?” Jimin replies. 

Playing with his fingers, Jeongguk says, “I said, can you go to your room, so I can play?” 

Childishly, Jimin answers, “I was here first.” 

Not only is it true, but Jimin is also comfortable here. He works better with more space – it’s part of the reason why he spends so much time at the library instead of at his tiny desk. Besides, if this is Jeongguk’s way of just kicking him out so they don’t have to be in the same room together, it’s a pretty lame cover up. 

“Yeah, but the TV–” Jeongguk starts.

  Jimin interrupts him with a cocked eyebrow. “Don’t you have a PC?” he argues. 

Jeongguk sighs and his eyes flick over in the direction of his bedroom at the end of the hallway. “The games are different–” 

He’s so persistent, and Jimin grows more and more annoyed by the second. Capping his highlighter and dropping it on the coffee table he exclaims, “Jeongguk-ah, I have a quiz tomorrow. Is it so hard to just wait? Or to play with me here?” He sighs and tears his eyes away from Jeongguk before he does something regrettable like grow emotional. “Shit, if you want me to go away that badly, just tell me.” 

Jeongguk replies in a disgruntled, low voice. “It’s not that. Stop jumping to conclusions.” 

Already standing and gathering his things, Jimin argues, “What other conclusion could there possibly be? You being rude and telling me to leave kind of speaks for itself.” 

“You’re fucking annoying,” Jeongguk replies. 

“And you’re a brat. God.” 

Jimin scoops his papers and laptop into his arms and flees the room, not daring to look at Jeongguk again because the actual sight of him tends to make Jimin’s blood boil less. He always looks so much sweeter than he sounds. 

If Jimin slams his door behind him, it’s only because Taehyung isn’t home. 

He’s thankful that he had a productive first hour of studying, because the second one goes poorly. After being uprooted from his space, his train of thought is overtaken by Jeongguk, and he becomes unable to focus. He just goes in circles pretending to review his material and taking far too many Twitter breaks to be considered studying. Just when he’s about to force himself to get situated again, having reorganized his papers twice and put his phone on do not disturb, there’s a knock on his door that’s followed by it opening before Jimin can even say come in.

“Oh, you knocked this time,” Jimin mutters sarcastically after recovering from the way he jumped at the sound of it. 

“Hyung,” Jeongguk murmurs. He stands tall and lithe in Jimin’s door frame, and when Jimin glances up to get a look at him, he wonders if Jeon Jeongguk is the first person to look so good that Jimin can’t even handle keeping his eyes on him. For some reason or another, he’s always forced to look away. Jeongguk is effortless in all black, his sleeve of tattoos on full display, his hair pushed out of his eyes. He doesn’t look cocky or rude either, just wide-eyed and beautiful breaking past all borderlines and into Jimin’s space. 

“Can I help you?” Jimin mumbles, kissing any attempt at revising goodbye. 

“How’s your studying going?” Jeongguk asks. He shuffles further into the room, toeing off his slippers like he plans to stay and shutting the door behind him. 

Jimin raises one eyebrow, suspicious. “Fine,” he replies simply. 

Jeongguk stays quiet, and Jimin watches as he loiters somewhat awkwardly with pretty dancing eyes darting all over Jimin’s room as if he’s somehow forgotten it in the past month. He hasn’t stood in it for this long since before he moved in. 

Uncomfortable, Jimin tries to figure out a way to cut the tension in the room. “Did you even end up playing, or did you kick me out for no reason? I didn’t hear the TV.” 

Jeongguk licks his lips. He looks sheepish, his broad shoulders rounded. “I um, I lowered the volume.” 

He looks at Jimin when he talks, all earnest and pretty. He looks young, like he’s never hurt anyone. Jimin looks away. The tension seems to have grown only thicker. Jimin feels annoyed that Jeongguk granted him the quiet to study, and he was too distracted by him to even use it.

A heavy beat passes, and then Jeongguk is murmuring in his low voice again, shy and warm. “Hyung…” 

He takes a few steps closer, and as he approaches the desk, Jimin finally stands, pushing back his chair so he doesn’t feel so small sitting beneath Jeongguk’s looming frame. 

A little bit out of control, Jimin snaps, “What the hell do you want?” 

Jeongguk recoils, and his soft face hardens in an instant, as vulnerable as even the toughest sheet of ice, always this close to shattering. “Why the fuck are you so mean to me?” Jeongguk snaps back. 

Anger sparks in Jimin’s stomach. “Me?” 

“Yes!” Jeongguk replies angrily. “You snap at me every two seconds!” 

“Because you’re always giving me a reason to snap, brat. You open your mouth at everything I say or do. I’m not just gonna sit there and take it. I thought you’d know that by now.”

Clearly caught up, Jeongguk rolls his eyes and sneers. “Oh, you seem to be just fine at taking it.” 

Jimin scowls, wondering how Jeongguk possibly denied being mean when he just tried to degrade Jimin for something so petty. He crosses his arms. “The fuck is that supposed to mean? You think you’re too good to let me give it to you?” He moves his eyes toward his door, waiting for Jeongguk’s to follow so he’ll show himself out. “Fuck off. Don’t give me another reason to be mad at you.” 

Jeongguk stands up a little straighter, like Jimin’s words have made him prideful. His voice is hushed but just as angry. Jimin watches the way he fists his hands into the soft material of his pants. After a pause he mutters, “I never said that. Don’t put words into my mouth.” 

Jimin, exasperated, throws his arms up. “Jeongguk-ah, you wouldn’t even let me touch you last time. Does it matter if I’m putting words into your mouth when they’re true?” 

Jeongguk frowns, face all pinched up. He steps closer into Jimin’s space. “Of course it matters! And they’re not true.” 

Jimin rolls his eyes, tilting his chin up to meet Jeongguk’s eyes and holding his gaze. He tests him, not daring to reach out and touch for fear of being pushed away again. “What, so you’d let me bend you over and fuck you against this desk if I wanted?” 

Jeongguk doesn’t reply, and Jimin just sighs, taking a step back. He looks at him one more time, but Jeongguk’s eyes are far away, trained on the wrinkled sheets of Jimin’s unmade bed. As he goes to sit back down, Jimin mutters, “Right. That’s what I thought. Now go away. Just because you have moments to spare to play video games and come annoy your roommates doesn’t mean I’m made of free time.” 

He plops himself in his desk chair, but Jeongguk catches his wrist. His touch feels like fire. “I would,” Jeongguk whispers, still looking away. 

“What?” Jimin asks. He waits for Jeongguk’s pretty eyes to come meet his own, knowing that they will. 

“I would let you,” breathes Jeongguk. 

The tension in the reverberates through the room like lightning, and then the air is thick with the humidity of a summer storm, and they’re both swimming in it. It takes everything in Jimin to ignore it. He forces his attitude to stay, like a flimsy umbrella in a July’s wind and rain. His defenses are useless against Jeongguk, who always washes over him like a flood. When he recedes, Jimin is left damp and broken.

“Okay, great,” he mutters, wrenching his wrist away from Jeongguk’s grasp. “Good to know. Still go away.” 

“Hyung,” says Jeongguk, stepping closer to Jimin again so that his leg bumps against Jimin’s knee. 

Jimin is weak, so he looks up at Jeongguk’s wide eyes. “What, Jeon Jeongguk.”

“I want you to,” Jeongguk breathes. He’s a vision, face open and honest and making Jimin question every thought and decision he’s made because of him. 

“Well, too bad,” Jimin mutters weakly. He casts his eyes down at his floor. Jeongguk makes it so easy to just let go of his inhibitions – makes it so easy for him to assume he can have the things he wants even when they’re bad for him. “I have a quiz to study for.” 

“Don’t you want me?” asks Jeongguk, and it’s not sexy. It sounds like a real question begging a truthful answer, whispered to Jimin even though Jimin wishes he could exhale and blow it away like a gust of wind would a petal in spring. 

“I told you already,” Jimin replies, disgustingly honest. “It’s not a matter of wanting you. Although whenever you open your mouth, I want you a little bit less.” 

“That’s not true,” Jeongguk protests. He reaches a hand to Jimin’s shoulder and slides it up to curl at the nape of his neck. At his touch, so soft and gentle, Jimin looks up to meet his eyes again, and being so close to the ground makes him wish he had never sat down at all. “You seem to really like my mouth.” 

Jimin stands at his comment, but Jeongguk doesn’t stop touching him, his one hand now playing with the loose hairs at the back of Jimin’s neck and the other coming to hold his waist, pull him closer. “Not when you’re talking,” he mutters. 

Jeongguk leans in and ghosts his soft lips along Jimin’s jaw. “What about when I’m kissing you?” 

Goosebumps trail down Jimin’s arms, and he’s sure that Jeongguk feels the way they erupt beneath his palm that now rubs along Jimin’s shoulders. He sucks in a breath, tilting his head when Jeongguk starts to kiss down his neck. 

“I think I like you better on my cock,” Jimin replies airily. 

Jeongguk nips beneath his jaw at Jimin’s words, and then his lips come to Jimin’s cheek, brushing the corner of his mouth. “Mm,” he hums, inching ever closer, his breath meeting Jimin’s breath, his hands guiding their bodies closer. “I’m not so sure about that.” 

Jimin turns his head so that Jeongguk doesn’t try to kiss him, but that doesn’t seem to discourage him at all. He just keeps his lips moving along Jimin’s skin, feeling the way it heats at his touch which traces him like he’s delicate. 

“Did you come in here just to seduce me?” Jimin manages to ask, voice breathless, eyes threatening to close shut when Jeongguk kisses behind his ear. 

“No,” Jeongguk murmurs. “I came in here to see how your studying was going.” 

He unwinds the hand from around Jimin’s shoulders and places it on Jimin’s lower back, beneath his shirt. His touch is tender and sweet. He touches Jimin like he’s touching a lover. It makes Jimin bristle. 

 

mood: heavy – powers

 

“My God,” Jimin laughs, though he’s less malicious now, falling into that teasing once again. Jeongguk just seems to bring it out of him when they’re close enough that intimacy overrides spite. “You’re so full of shit.”

“I’m not,” protests Jeongguk seriously. He pulls back to look at Jimin again. His lips are  a little bit pinker, along with his cheeks, and his eyes, bright as ever, are blown fully black. They’re the new moon at midnight making way for stars. Jimin has never been one to look away from the sky. 

“You don’t even know what I’m studying for,” Jimin scoffs, blinking up at him, unimpressed. He can feel his own blush and he’s sure that his eyes are just as full with lust as Jeongguk’s, but he tries to play it cool, not sure how much farther he should allow this to go. Jeongguk is still tracing the skin of his back beneath his soft t-shirt, and he doesn’t seem intent on letting go. 

“You never let me ask questions,” chuckles Jeongguk easily. His mouth is close again, waiting to kiss Jimin as if he’s been waiting all night. 

“Why should I, when you don’t care about the answers?” Jimin says brusquely. 

“I do though,” Jeongguk replies against the corner of Jimin’s mouth. Jimin leans back, but once again, Jeongguk’s grip stays tight on his waist. His voice is thick with desire, and though it seems honest, it’s too clouded in want for Jimin to possibly believe him. 

“So you can get laid?” Jimin quips. He rolls his eyes, chuckling. Finally touching Jeongguk back, he puts his hands on his shoulders and runs them up the sides of his neck. 

“Are you gonna let me touch you this time?” Jimin murmurs in a sweet voice. Then he sinks his fingernails into the skin of Jeongguk’s shoulders, not hard enough to hurt, but just enough to send a playful warning. It says that this time, if they fuck, it’s going to be fair. Then he adds, “Or do you want blue balls again?”

“You can touch me,” exhales Jeongguk. He brings one hand up to cup Jimin’s face, the other still beneath Jimin’s shirt, caressing his skin softly. “But tell me first… do you want me?” 

Jimin rolls his eyes, knowing Jeongguk will see it clear as day with the way his palm against Jimin’s face ensures their gazes stay locked on each other. “I’ve told you already,” Jimin mutters.
“I wanna hear you say it,” Jeongguk pushes. He leans in, but instead of tilting his head, he just presses their foreheads together. Their noses brush. 

Jimin can’t help the way his breath hitches, but he covers it up with his words. Or at least he tries to. “Why are you such a brat, hmm? Why do you like bothering me so much?” 

“I don’t,” Jeongguk argues. Quickly, cheekily, he tilts his head so that their lips come together. It’s brief, just a peck, but Jimin can’t find it in himself to push him away. He wants to kiss him again. 

He’s caught up on Jeongguk’s words, though, so he scoffs – because clearly Jeongguk likes to bother him, and there’s no use in lying about it. “A brat and a liar,” Jimin teases. 

Jeongguk ignores him and kisses him again. He still keeps it close-mouthed, but his hand squeezes Jimin’s hip with a strong grip and his thumb runs gently back and forth on Jimin’s cheek. When he pulls back, he stays close, pulling Jimin by the waist so that their bodies are even more flush together. 

“Hyung, say it,” Jeongguk demands. “Say it, and then you can fuck me.” 

Those words snap Jimin back into reality, and he recoils, turning his head so that Jeongguk’s hand falls back to their waistlines. The prospect that they might actually have sex right now gives Jimin the strength to try to resist one last time even though he knows he’s already given in. 

“I need to study anyway,” Jimin tries. 

Jeongguk just looks at him with his bright eyes. 

Suddenly hot under his gaze, Jimin takes a hand away from Jeongguk’s warm skin and covers his face with it, wiping at his eyes like they’re showing him the wrong thing. “Shit, why is this happening again,” he mutters under his breath. 

At his words, Jeongguk drops his hands and leaves them by his sides. “You really don’t want it?” 

In another universe, those words came out low and husky, waiting for a denial. But Jeongguk says them softly, asking if he’s about to be turned away. He says them like if Jimin tells him no, he’ll never knock on this door again. 

Biting his lip, Jimin looks up. Meeting Jeongguk’s wary eyes, Jimin cups his face with both hands and murmurs, “I want you, Jeongguk-ah,” and he closes the space between them, lighting aflame like a struck match once Jeongguk’s hands find their way back to his waiting skin. 

This time, when they kiss, Jimin takes control because he tells himself he needs it in order to feel okay with all of this. He shifts one hand into Jeongguk’s hair and parts his lips, licking into Jeongguk’s mouth and hearing a moan slip past immediately. That thick air of tension around them only seems to grow heavier with the way Jeongguk whines when Jimin bites his lower lip. While they stand in the middle of Jimin’s bedroom and kiss, Jimin forces himself not to think of the first night they hooked up, because so much has changed. It’s not worth it to try to compare the situations – everything is different now. 

He tells himself that, knowing that the noises that slip past Jeongguk’s lips are the same, knowing that the way Jeongguk reaches under his shirt is the same, knowing that if they were to fall into bed, he could get swept up into kissing Jeongguk for hours, just like he’d wanted to the first night they met. 

To avoid any of that, Jimin pulls away from the kiss and reaches a hand to brush along Jeongguk’s shiny red lips. He’s beautiful and turned on, hair a mess from Jimin’s wandering hands. 

“Jimin-hyung,” Jeongguk whines, trying to chase Jimin for another kiss. 

“What is it?” Jimin whispers. “Gonna be sweet and start asking me for things? That’s the only way you’ll get them.” 

He’s turning the tables on Jeongguk a little bit; since he dragged the words I want you out of Jimin’s mouth, it’d be a pity if he didn’t get a few nice things to spill past Jeongguk’s lips too. 

“Hyung, kiss me again,” Jeongguk whines. 

“Here?” Jimin asks, ducking his head to kiss up Jeongguk’s neck. He nips playfully, loving the way Jeongguk bends for him, exposing his skin like it’s Jimin’s to mark. 

“No,” breathes Jeongguk. He’s so worked up already. His big hands are tracing Jimin’s skin over and over again, lingering at his lower back like they want to slip beneath the waistband of Jimin’s sweats. 

“Where, then?” Jimin asks. He moves lower to find Jeongguk’s collarbones, exposed from the low cut of his shirt. The kisses he leaves there are fleeting and gentle. “Here?”

“Hyung,” Jeongguk moans. 

“Looks like you’ve remembered I’m your hyung,” Jimin notes, amused. Feeling bold, he lets his tongue loose, slipping into the low Busan Satoori that he’s used to suppressing. “Surely you can remember how to use your words.” 

Annoyed, Jeongguk growls, one hand curling around the back of Jimin’s head and the other pressing firm fingertips into Jimin’s hips. “Fucking kiss me on the lips, hyung ,” he bites with the same accent. 

Jimin chuckles, but he doesn’t expect the way Jeongguk pulls him closer, one hand finally dipping past Jimin’s past to cup his ass and the other guiding their faces together. He kisses Jimin breathless, sucking Jimin’s tongue into his mouth and biting at his lip when he pulls away. 

“Are you sure you want me to fuck you, Jeongguk-ah?” Jimin murmurs against Jeongguk’s lips. “You seem pretty keen on just kissing me.” 

“Can’t I have both?” Jeongguk wonders, kissing Jimin again. 

“No, I don’t think so,” Jimin replies. “I was serious about bending you over this desk.” 

Jeongguk’s breath hitches audibly, and the hand on Jimin’s waist seems to grow impossibly tighter. Jimin feels like he can’t escape Jeongguk marking him. When Jeongguk stays quiet, Jimin starts to kiss his neck again because it’s easier to talk to him without looking in his eyes. 

“Is that okay, Jeongguk?” he whispers. He pauses at the shell of Jeongguk’s ear to speak quietly there, feeling him shudder beneath his touch. “Think you can take it?” teases Jimin. 

“Shut up,” Jeongguk replies weakly. “I can.” 

“Yeah?” Jimin asks, dragging his teeth at the corner of Jeongguk’s jaw. “And what if I want you to say please?” 

Jeongguk swallows, but when he finally speaks, he talks slow against Jimin’s lips, drawing out every drag of their mouths against one another. “Then I’ll say please, hyung.” 

 

mood: happiness over everything – jhené aiko, miguel, future

 

They kiss one more time, hungry and desperate, and when they slow down to something sweeter, something unhurried and honeyed, Jimin is quick to pull away. He decides that if this is going to happen – if they’re going to go this far again – it’s not going to be soft. He can’t let it get any more emotional than it already is. There’s no use in pretending to be something they’re not, Jimin knows that especially. 

So he spins Jeongguk around with two firm hands on his waist and presses up on his tiptoes to whisper to him, “Bend over, Jeongguk-ah.” 

Jeongguk goes to listen without hesitation, but then he stops suddenly, turning back in Jimin’s arms and saying, “Wait.” 

Jimin’s heart jumps into his throat for a moment, but before the rush of doubt can hit him, Jeongguk is kissing him again and sneaking his hands under Jimin’s shirt before grabbing the hem to lift it up and over Jimin’s head. He eases himself apart from Jimin and peels his own shirt off, and then – then he’s bent over Jimin’s desk still covered in school work. 

Jimin is immediately hit with a rush of arousal, and he has to remind himself to have a little bit of self-control, because at the sight of Jeongguk, he’s tempted to fuck him like a lover instead of man who left him alone in his bed. Jeongguk is every person’s daydream. His tattooed arms make a perfect pillow for his pretty head, and Jimin is gifted with the most beautiful expanse of skin he’s ever laid his eyes on. Jeongguk’s shoulders are wide but his waist is small, so the smooth, golden skin of his back creates a muscled plain that ripples with each subtle movement he makes. 

His waistband pokes out of his joggers, so the first thing Jimin does when he steps forward is run two fingers beneath it. Jeongguk arches his back a little at his touch, pushing his hips toward Jimin and waiting for Jimin’s hands to be on him. 

With both of his hands secured on Jeongguk’s little waist, he presses his hard cock to his ass and bends over Jeongguk’s wide, strong back to whisper in his ear again. “I’m gonna make you feel good this time, Jeongguk-ah. Are you gonna let me?” 

“Yes, hyung,” Jeongguk mumbles into his arms. 

“Ask me,” breathes Jimin. 

“Please make me feel good, Jimin-hyung.” 

Jimin’s stomach twists with pleasure, and he murmurs, “Good.” He says it so quietly that he can barely hear it himself before trailing kisses all the way down Jeongguk’s back. It’s so much easier like this, without Jeongguk looking at him with those eyes. There’s so much less to make Jimin feel weak, to feel anything but lust. This is just going to be sex. One last time to get it out of their systems. He’ll finish knowing that Jeongguk has had him and that he’s had Jeongguk, and that will be that. 

Hooking both of his thumbs under Jeongguk’s waistband, Jimin pulls his pants down to his ankles and then stares. Jeongguk is truly a vision – he’s all muscle, carved like art. His ass is perfectly round, his sides shredded and sharp. Jimin wants him so bad he might not be able to stand. He leaves Jeongguk there, exposed and amazingly patient as he gets the lube and condoms from his drawer, and when he returns, Jeongguk whines, pushing his hips back. 

When Jimin looks down, he sees Jeongguk hard and leaking between his legs, just from a little kissing and a lot of anticipation. Jimin feels a little bit of pity, so he slicks up his fingers quickly before gently rubbing along Jeongguk’s hole. 

He watches as Jeongguk’s whole body tenses and relaxes, and without Jimin even asking, Jeongguk mumbles again, “Hyung, please.” 

Jimin bites his lip before getting to work. For as much tension as there is between the two of them, Jimin never wants to be rough where it’s unwarranted, so he uses his free hand to rub gently up and down Jeongguk’s abdomen, hard and clenched under his touch from the position he’s in. Jimin starts slow, pushing past his rim after circling it a few times. He sinks his finger in little by little, allowing Jeongguk to get used to the feeling – but Jeongguk seems like he’s far more eager than uncomfortable. He pushes his hips back and then snaps them forward as soon as Jimin has glided his finger out once or twice. 

“Impatient,” Jimin notes, and then he crooks his finger up. Jeongguk moans, and Jimin takes it as the green light, reaching the hand on Jeongguk’s stomach up to tweak his nipples. Jeongguk jumps at his touch. “So sensitive, baby,” says Jimin. 

“Feels good, hyung,” Jeongguk mumbles. 

“Want more?” Jimin asks, it’s teasing but he’s asking to be sure. For as much as he says he hates Jeongguk, he’d hate himself even more if he ever hurt him. 

“Please,” Jeongguk replies, and Jimin chuckles quietly to himself. He hadn’t expected how much Jeongguk would take his words to heart. 

Jimin slips another finger in, and now he really starts to fuck him, easing his fingers in an out, crooking them up to brush against his prostate just to make sure he gets him really worked up. Jeongguk comes undone beneath him, rocking his hips and moaning quietly into the skin of his own arms. 

Jimin can only wonder what he’ll sound like when he gets fucked. 

Things move quickly from there – Jimin is too impatient himself to go slow, his own cock straining in his sweatpants and Jeongguk’s still hanging heavy and hard between his legs. By the time he has three fingers easily moving in and out of Jeongguk’s hole, he drags a hand down Jeongguk’s big, strong chest all the way to his cock. Jeongguk jumps when he feels Jimin’s unexpected touch, moaning loudly. 

“You’ve been good, Jeongguk-ah,” says Jimin. “Want hyung to fuck you now? That okay?” 

Jeongguk mumbles his affirmation into his arms, still grinding his hips back against Jimin’s hand that’s working in and out of his hole. Jimin doesn’t bother to get him to beg. He wants him too badly to care. 

He pulls out carefully, but Jeongguk still winces a little bit. He tries to go quickly, shoving his pants to the floor and stepping out of them carefully. He grabs the condom that he threw on the desk and rolls it over his hard cock, slicking himself with lube and pumping himself a few times before lining up his head with Jeongguk’s slick, glistening hole. 

He leans over Jeongguk’s back as he pushes in, both of his hands rubbing up and down Jeongguk’s sides and belly soothingly as he adjusts. He goes slowly, and once their hips are flush, he waits a few moments, giving into his weakness and stopping to kiss the warm skin of Jeongguk’s shoulders and bite down the sharp line of his spine. As soon as he feels Jeongguk whine and shift against him, Jimin rolls Jeongguk’s nipple between his fingers and moves his grip to Jeongguk’s waist, fucking in and out of him slowly. 

Just like with the fingers, Jeongguk seems impatient, pushing his hips back to get Jimin to go deeper, faster – so Jimin just fucks him hard. This is the last time, Jimin tells himself, so he might as well make it good. It ends up being dirty and fast; Jeongguk with his back arched obscenely and his strong shoulders shaking as he holds himself up; Jimin biting at Jeongguk’s shoulder blades and scratching up and down his sides as he fucks him so hard it fills the room with the dirty sound of their skin meeting. Verbally, they keep quiet this time, trading talking for shared breath and heavy exhales, loud moans and the sound of Jimin’s lips meeting Jeongguk’s skin. Any words they do share are deep and guttural, layered with the far away sounds of a place they both happen to call home. 

It doesn’t take very long until they’re both close. Jimin feels his climax build just as Jeongguk starts to speak up, gasping into his arms, “Hyung, hyung, touch me, please, touch me.” 

“Fuck,” Jimin says into his skin. He leans up to see a map of bruises scattered across Jeongguk’s skin, and he reaches around to Jeongguk’s front to take his big, hard cock from between his legs and jerk him off quickly. “Fuck,” he repeats. “You’re so fucking, good, Jeongguk-ah. I hate how good you are.” 

“Ah,” Jeongguk cries. “You love it.” 

Jimin bites his lip to avoid agreeing. 

When he twists his fist just the right way, Jeongguk collapses forward and spills all over Jimin’s hand. Jimin follows him a few thrusts later, holding himself deep in Jeongguk’s ass as he comes in the condom. He lets himself breathe for a second, but reality hits before he can even attempt to enjoy the afterglow. 

Pulling out, he steps back and reaches for a tissue from his desk. Wiping his hand and pulling the condom from his cock, he can see Jeongguk from the corner of his eye, pulling his pants up and wiping a hand over his brow. He rolls his shoulders in circles. 

He waits awkwardly for Jimin to have his own pants back on before he says anything. He throws his t-shirt over his shoulder, not bothering to pull it over his head again, and when he meets Jimin’s eyes, he looks sheepish. 

His back is painted purple and red. There’s one more bite on his neck. Jimin wonders what his own skin looks like. 

“Um, well,” Jeongguk starts, clearly not knowing how to begin. He rubs his hand through his sweaty hair. “Good luck on your quiz? I’m sure you’ll do great,” he tries. 

The switch is flipped just like that, and Jimin just sighs. “Yeah, well. No thanks to you.” 

He sits down at his desk, knowing Jeongguk has nothing else to say. He hears Jeongguk sigh but doesn’t look over his shoulder, and when he hears the door click softly, he buries his face in his hands, wondering why he’s already thinking about fucking Jeongguk again. 

 

☾ ☾ ☾

 

mood: assassin – john mayer

 

Sometime that weekend, after Jimin and Jeongguk have resumed their routine of either ignoring each other or bickering, Jimin wakes up to the smell of something sweet. It wakes him up slowly, entering his dream and distorting it until he blinks his eyes open and realizes that he’s in his bed, hiding under his covers from one of spring’s cold mornings. He lets himself lay with his eyes closed until enough sleep leaves his body, but eventually his curiosity gets the best of him when he starts to hear laughter through the walls, coming from the kitchen. 

A chill runs through him as he gets out of bed, his feet cold on the floors even with socks. He reminds himself that he needs a new pair of slippers for the house as he chucks a big sweater over his head and pads quietly down the hallway. As he approaches their tiny kitchen, the voices grow clearer. 

Taehyung and Hoseok are laughing at something Jeongguk just said, and Jimin hesitates before he shows himself. The first thing that comes to mind is that he doesn’t want to ruin their happy moment by cutting through it with the tension that follows him everywhere he goes with Jeongguk. He stays behind the corner of the wall, peeking his head for a millisecond to see that Jeongguk is flipping pancakes onto Taehyung and Hoseok’s awaiting plates on the counter. 

Pressed against the wall, Jimin eavesdrop for a moment, trying to decide if his morning coffee is really worth making his friends’ laughter cease. He doesn’t really feel like looking at Jeongguk right now anyway, now knowing that he’s probably still sleep-soft in his worn out pajama set with his hair all in his eyes, standing casually at the stove cracking quips to make his hyungs giggle with a smile that takes over his whole face. 

“I can’t believe you’re Taehyung’s boyfriend,” Jeongguk laughs. “Years of knowing you, and I never connected the dots.” 

Jimin hears Hoseok’s sunshine laughter. He murmurs, “Jeongguk-ah, it’s really a small world.” 

Jimin can picture Hoseok placing a hand on Taehyung’s thigh beneath the counter after that, turning his head to send him the very same smile that makes Taehyung putty in his hands. 

“Are you coming to Joon’s tonight?” Hoseok asks. 

Jimin’s attention peaks, so he tries to quiet his own thoughts even though his heart rate speeds up a little bit. 

There’s a pause before Jeongguk answers. “Yeah, I want to.” 

He pauses again. 

“Wait, is Jimin-hyung coming?” Jeongguk asks apprehensively. 

Jimin’s breath catches in his throat, wondering why Jeongguk would possibly ask about him and knowing there’s not a chance it could be a good thing. 

“Yeah, I think so,” Hoseok chirps happily. “He’s always with Namjoon. I can’t believe he was friends with both of you all of this time and neither of you knew. But yeah, he’ll probably be there.” 

“Oh,” Jeongguk mutters. “Shit.” 

Jimin winces. A gentle kind of sadness blooms in him; it comes over his head like passing clouds. Sometimes he can laugh off the fact that Jeongguk doesn’t really want him around when it counts, but this stings. To think that he’d dare sound so disappointed in front of Jimin’s friends hits even harder than usual. It’s the clap of thunder followed by the first rain, and Jimin is forced to just sit with it. 

“Why, what’s wrong?” Hoseok asks, so sweet and unaware of the situation. 

Jimin can’t imagine how Taehyung hasn’t told him about all of this. 

He turns on his heel in the hallway and slips quietly back in the room to hear whatever bullshit excuse comes up with. Back in his bed, he wishes he had his warm mug to cradle his hands around, and he wishes even more that he understood exactly why Jeongguk would consider avoiding his own friends just to spare himself from being around Jimin. 

Eventually, when the noise dies down and the coast is clear, Jimin makes coffee at midday and scrolls through his phone at the counter. When he pokes his head in the fridge, he finds a plate of pancakes in the fridge bearing a sticky note with his name on it. 

It might not be true, but to Jimin, that plate being there feels like Jeongguk saying he knew Jimin was listening this morning. The nice gesture twists something sour in his stomach. If this is the new version of the game that Jeongguk is going to be playing, Jimin wants out. He can’t handle rejection and affection at the same time. 

Even though it kind of feels like giving in, he eats the pancakes because he’s hungry and hates to waste. They're fluffy and sweet. 

The clouds linger all day. 

Jeongguk disappears to the gym at some point in the day, and Jimin and Taehyung leave the house before he comes back. Clearly, he’d made up his mind about not coming tonight. Jimin wonders what kind of excuse he gave Namjoon, or if he even had to. Maybe he just told Namjoon the truth – that being around Jimin in a social setting is just too unbearable. 

Jimin and Taehyung bring snacks and drinks to Namjoon’s place, and they all eat dinner there – his friend, the chef, Seokjin, cooks for them, and he’s nothing like Jimin had imagined. He keeps teasing Hoseok and Namjoon, and he sings at the stove. He uses a whisk as a microphone. More than once he laments the absence of Jeongguk and Yoongi – who got held up at work – but it definitely doesn’t stop him from having a good time. At this rate, it kind of seems like nothing could get in the way of his high spirits. 

It’s a good first impression. Jimin finds himself agreeing that it’s sad that Yoongi couldn’t make it, but the thought of sharing a meal with all six of the other people who were supposed to be here tonight terrifies him a little bit. 

Jimin enjoys himself, praising Seokjin for the noodles and steak he makes them, but he can’t say he’s not distracted. He thinks about what Jeongguk ended up doing tonight when most of his friends were together. Even more so, he wonders what makes him so horrible to be around that Jeongguk is willing to sacrifice his whole evening. 

Taehyung, who notices he’s a little off, clings to Jimin for most of the night, holding his hand when they watch music videos on the couch and petting his hair when he starts to doze on his shoulder. When the evening winds down, he leaves Namjoon with a kiss on the cheek and gets a huge hug from Seokjin who declares that they are now going to be the best of friends. 

He tells Taehyung and Hoseok to get back to Hoseok’s safely, and on his way home, Jimin finds himself dreading to be back in his own space, knowing traces of Jeongguk are unrelenting and everywhere. 

He strips as soon as he gets to his bedroom, wrapping a towel around his waist and immediately going to take a shower. He’s sure to lock the door, and even though he feels a little twinge of arousal knowing that he and Jeongguk are home alone and he’s back in the situation that got Jeongguk on his knees, he doesn’t allow his thoughts to go any further than that. He washes up quickly and tucks himself into bed after messily drying his hair. 

Curled beneath his sheets with his back against the headboard, Jimin plays on his phone, not motivated enough to do anything else. He sends Taehyung another goodnight text and scrolls aimlessly through social media. He’s not sure how long he’s been staring at the screen when he hears the knock on his door, but this time, Jeongguk waits for Jimin to murmur, “Come in,” to actually enter. 

 

mood: my favorite part – mac miller, ariana grande

 

Jeongguk pads into Jimin’s room shyly, hands hidden by the sleeves of his shirt. It’s big and grey and matches the color of his sweatpants. He looks cute, and his big eyes are as wide as ever. Licking his lips and shaking his fluffy hair from his eyes, he pauses by the foot of Jimin’s bed and blinks, saying nothing. 

“What is it?” Jimin asks quietly. He’s too tired to feel angry or annoyed. He just wants to know why the hell Jeon Jeongguk is in his room at one in the morning, looking soft, looking sweet, looking like he wants to curl up in Jimin’s bed again and ask to be held. 

Jeongguk shrugs, fiddling with his sleeves. “I just wanted to ask how Namjoon’s was.” 

Jimin cocks his head, but he waits to snap. Mumbling toward his duvet he replies, “Why don’t you ask Taehyung or something?” 

Jeongguk shrugs again. “I don’t know. He’s not home.” 

Jimin tucks his knees up to his chest and rests his head on them, still beneath his blanket. “Why didn’t you just come?” hea sks. 

“I don’t know,” Jeongguk replies again. “Didn’t feel like going out I guess.” 

He’s soft spoken but skittish. 

“Well, it was fun,” Jimin utters. “Your hyungs were there.” 

Jeongguk’s big black eyes look around the darkness of the room that’s lit only by the lamp on Jimin’s nightstand. Like the last time he was in Jimin’s bedroom, his eyes fall to the bed, tracing the patterns of the wrinkles in the sheets like they’re waves. Eventually he continues moving forward and shyly sits at the edge of Jimin’s bed, right by Jimin’s feet where he’s curled in the center of the mattress. 

Jimin thinks Jeongguk looks anxious, and for a moment, he’s overtaken by empathy. He wonders if Jeongguk is okay, but he doesn’t think it’s his place to ask. He’s not even sure if it’s his place to be worrying. It’s not fair to his own heart. He tries another method instead, doing his best to try to reach him without being so direct. He’s breaking his own resolve a little bit, but what else is he supposed to do when Jeongguk is perched on the edge of his bed, looking fragile, looking small? 

“What did you do all night?” Jimin tries. 

Jeongguk shrugs again. His tattooed fingers have begun to trace patterns into the soft material of Jimin’s duvet. “Gamed. Edited some stuff. Drew.” 

He starts to play with his hands, and suddenly Jimin feels vulnerable in his pajamas beneath the blanket. The air around them is far too heavy for him not to. It feels like this moment is about to swallow him whole, far too unprecedented and calm compared to what he’s grown used to with Jeongguk. 

After a few seconds of the tension warping time around them, Jeongguk finally shifts toward Jimin. He draws one folded knee onto the bed and turns so that they’re facing each other instead of Jimin being forced to stare at his profile and the scar on his cheek. Placing one hand on the bed, close to Jimin’s hip, Jeongguk leans a little bit closer. He bites his lip and mutters softly, “Hyung, can I kiss you?” 

Jimin doesn’t move away, but his eyes widen and cast to the side. “Why do you want to kiss me so badly?” he whispers harshly, a little angry now. “Why are you always asking that?” 

Jeongguk bites his lip. One of the muscles in his cheek twitches. “I just…” 

Jimin sighs, and then he places one hand on Jeongguk’s folded leg, tracing his hand up his thigh through the soft material of his sweatpants. “Are you lonely or something?” Jimin asks. “I don’t think you’ll have trouble finding someone else. Besides, you don’t have to keep kissing me to fuck me.” 

Jeongguk just keeps chewing on his lip. Jimin feels his eyes wandering all over his body, but he can’t keep track of where they go. He feels them on his mouth, then his collarbones, then the column of his neck. When Jimin looks at him, he seems sad, but Jimin second-guesses his assessment right away. He tells himself that Jeongguk must be the only person he can’t read, because just when he thinks he’s got a grasp on what Jeongguk is feeling, he proves Jimin wrong. 

There’s a chance he’s always feeling a million things at once, but Jimin is not sure what to make of that, either. 

At the silence, Jimin begins to draw his hand away from Jeongguk’s leg, but he’s stopped with a gentle palm laying over his own. 

“What if I want both?” Jeongguk finally murmurs, echoing his words from the other night, when he’d knocked on Jimin's door just the same way and asked for a kiss. 

Jimin huffs, but it’s without malice when he says, “I’ll tell you you’re a spoiled brat.” 

Jeongguk quirks half a smile, like he can’t help the way it blooms on his face. “You do that anyway.” 

Jimin smirks back, chuckling just a little bit. “Yeah, well. Maybe if you proved me wrong, I wouldn’t.” 

Jeongguk scoots a little bit closer on the bed. The hand Jimin has resting on Jeongguk’s upper thigh twitches. “You’re the one with the attitude,” says Jeongguk teasingly. His voice grows low and his eyebrows lift up as he leans in carefully, his breath washing over Jimin. “So?” 

Jimin winces and then turns his head, hanging it so Jeongguk doesn’t have to see the look of pain that washes over him. Squaring his shoulders and forcing his voice to level, he grits, still quietly, “What the fuck do you want, Jeon Jeongguk?” 

Jeongguk, just as close to Jimin as he was before, takes advantage of Jimin’s tilted head and leans over him to drag his lips along Jimin’s ear. “To be honest, hyung,” he whispers, “I really wanna eat you out.” 

Jimin digs his nails into Jeongguk’s thigh, but he doesn’t react. He’s astonished with the way Jeongguk does this so easily. One second he looks like he’s about to burst into tears, ready to pour his heart all over Jimin’s unmade bed, and the next he’s fine, finding Jimin’s weak points and pressing into them until he’s collapsed and waiting to build himself up again. 

“You’re a selfish asshole,” Jimin states, pressing a hand to Jeongguks chest to get him to move back a little bit. “How can you come in here to pretend to ask how my night was just to fuck with me again?” 

Jeongguk furrows his brow, the hand on top of Jimin’s pets at his wrist tenderly. “I’m not selfish and I wasn’t pretending,” he argues, but his hands come to Jimin’s waist, his eyes and voice suddenly distant. 

“You’re so full of shit,” Jimin mutters, Jeongguk’s lips ghosting his once again, teasing and fleeting and the taste of something so bad it’s good. “God, I should teach you a fucking lesson.” 

“Maybe some other time,” murmurs Jeongguk. He’s so incredibly close, but he’s waiting for Jimin to kiss him first, never taking without permission. 

Still pressing his nails into Jeongguk’s leg, Jimin speaks slowly, like a warning. “Baby,” he chides, smirking. “Watch your mouth.” 

 

mood: talk – khalid, disclosure

 

Jeongguk pulls back to whisper in his ear again. “Don’t worry, I’ll put it to good use.” 

Jimin has a hand in his messy hair and a tongue against his lips before he can even remind himself that he was supposed to say no. 

Jeongguk shifts on the bed, holding onto Jimin with careful hands as he crawls on top of him. He hovers over Jimin’s body and cups his face with one big hand, all while kissing him deeply. 

Jimin takes advantage of having his hands back on Jeongguk’s back again. He’s as strong as ever, muscles rippling beneath Jimin’s touch beneath his shirt. Jimin takes his time to press his fingers into Jeongguk’s skin, hoping he blindly finds some of the bruises he left there the other day. 

They’re desperate and messy against one another’s mouths, crashing together in the way they’ve somehow turned into a habit. Jeongguk moans against him, hot open-mouthed kisses a perfect match to the way his warm body presses against Jimin. When he’s not kissing Jimin on the lips and working his tongue into Jimin’s mouth, Jimin feels him press kisses on his neck again, like he’s made a home there – it’s become a place he keeps coming back to. 

Jimin drags his nails down Jeongguk’s back. If Jimin is going to live with the constant purple marks on his hips and neck from Jeongguk, Jeongguk should have a piece of him too, a constant reminder of the choices he’s made. 

“Is this what you wanted?” Jimin breathes as Jeongguk runs his tongue over Jimin’s juglar. “Is it good enough for you?” 

“Fuck, hyung,” Jeongguk murmurs, the wetness of his lips still dragging on Jimin’s skin. “You’re so hot.” 

That annoys Jimin, so he wraps a hand around the back of Jeongguk’s neck, pulls him close to kiss him again, and mutters, “Shut up.” He doesn’t want to be complimented by Jeongguk. He doesn’t want to be called anything sweet – not hot, not good, not beautiful like the night they met. 

The sex is already too much for him as it is. Jimin’s confident, but there’s only so much he can handle. 

Once they start to grind their hips together, Jeongguk grows impatient quickly, sitting up and rolling off of Jimin only to pull him into his lap like he’s weightless. He always moves Jimin around so easily. 

“Hyung,” he murmurs against Jimin’s mouth, cupping his ass. “Will you sit on my face?” 

Jimin shudders at the way he says it, with that low voice and earnest eyes. He’s full of lust, like Jimin is everything he’s been waiting for – the first brush of lips or the first time skin meets skin. He looks at Jimin like he’s both the starting point and the finish line. 

It’s ridiculously sexy, and while the thought of being vulnerable like that with Jeongguk is a little overwhelming, he doesn’t let it show. He wants it too badly. 

Jeongguk’s hands simply sit patiently at the hem of Jimin’s shirt, waiting to lift it over his head. 

Jimin cracks a smirk in spite of any of his apprehensions, and with a quick bite to Jeongguk’s bottom lip he murmurs, “That’s one way to shut you up.” 

He has his arms up and his shirt off in an instant. They undress each other quickly. Jimin still does his best to avert his eyes from Jeongguk’s own because of the way he knows that looking at him makes all of this feel more real than he wants it to. 

Jeongguk gets a fist around Jimin’s cock and jerks him off slowly, but they both know that that is not what this is about. 

“C’mere,” says Jeongguk, his free hand trying to get Jimin to move up the bed from where he’s perched in Jeongguk’s lap. 

For a split second, Jimin dares to look down, and at the sight of Jeongguk’s open, waiting face beneath him, his heart stutters in his chest. “No,” he breathes, looking away. “I’m doing it this way. 

Jeongguk’s hand falls from his cock, and then Jimin turns around, straddling Jeongguk’s body and moving backward so that he’s facing away from him. His arms cage Jeongguk’s hips and his ass hovers over Jeongguk’s face. This way, he has no chance of looking down and seeing Jeongguk’s pretty eyes when his tongue is touching him there. 

“Yeah,” says Jeongguk, his hands rising to hold Jimin’s waist. “Okay, that works.” 

Jimin doesn’t lower himself any closer until he feels two big hands on the globes of his ass, pulling him apart. The strain in his legs eases up when he sinks closer to Jeongguk’s mouth, feeling warm breath ghost over his hole, and Jimin can’t help the way he cries out at the first lick. If Jimin thought Jeongguk’s mouth was good before, he’s on a whole new level now, starting with gentle licks over Jimin’s hole, getting him wet and relaxed. 

Jimin feels incredibly sensitive, starting to shudder almost immediately. His abs jump and clench as Jeongguk takes his time with him, hands still playing with Jimin’s ass as he kisses and sucks at Jimin’s hole. He opens Jimin up with his tongue, slow and easy, and Jimin rocks back slowly against him. Jeongguk's hot mouth never fails to tease no matter where it is on Jimin’s body, and Jimin is sure that he’s waiting for Jimin to beg again – but Jimin knows better. He doesn’t have to say please; instead, he decides to play the game. 

As Jeongguk pushes his tongue past the tight rim of Jimin’s hole, Jimin falls forward, his cock trapped between Jeongguk’s chest and his own belly. He grips Jeongguk’s strong, muscular thighs to steady himself, and gently he starts to kiss along Jeongguk’s hard cock where it lays leaking against his abdomen. 

Jeongguk doesn’t seem to expect it, and he gasps. When Jimin presses the flat against his tongue against Jeongguk’s length, Jeongguk moans, saying, “Fuck, hyung, God. Your mouth.” 

Jimin ignores him, propping himself a bit to take Jeongguk’s big cock into his mouth. He can’t take it all, but he doesn’t even want to try – he just wants to tease, to get him wet. It’s all too easy, to suckle on the head and feel the way it gets Jeongguk gasping against his hole, licking and sucking like Jimin will stop if he does. 

As Jeongguk opens Jimin up with his tongue, he uses a finger to tease and push inside just a little bit to get Jimin to push back against him. He doesn’t go any further than that, never wanting to cause any pain, but he does pull back from Jimin’s hole to press kisses and bites against the flesh of Jimin’s ass. 

“Hyung, you taste so sweet.” 

Jimin rolls his eyes even though Jeongguk can’t see him, popping his mouth off of Jeongguk’s cock to say, “You talk too much.” 

 

mood: i don’t give a – jojee

 

Jeongguk, instead of quipping back with words, teases with his actions instead. His thumb traces around Jimin’s rim before he sucks hard, and Jimin cries out, now panting into Jeongguk’s thigh and occupying his mouth by sucking bruises there so Jeongguk has to feel him whenever he presses his legs together tomorrow. 

Jimin’s lips are spit-slick and swollen. His cock is leaking onto Jeongguk’s chest, and as he rocks back onto his face, for a moment, he wishes he could see Jeongguk wrecked. He moans again, moving his hips uselessly, close but knowing he can’t finish with just this. 

“Fuck, Jeongguk,” he growls as big hands spread him again. “Make me come.” 

Jeongguk, sweet like Jimin is starting to believe is his nature, replies immediately, asking, “What do you want?” 

But Jimin is too far gone to even think about the question. He rocks down and his cock brushes against Jeongguk’s chest, making a small cry slip past his lips. “Whatever,” he breathes, desperate. “I don’t care.” 

Jeongguk pulls back from Jimin’s ass with one lass kiss to his hole and then taps on Jimin’s side to get him to roll off. 

“Just lay down,” Jeongguk says gently. Jimin follows his directions, falling on his bed with a pillow under his head. He looks up in the dim light, and he realizes that he can finally see Jeongguk. His hair is a mess, fluffy and waving all over the place. His mouth is red, his lips perfectly curved and slick, his eyes dark – a wet dream right here in his bed. They kiss, and Jimin still licks into Jeongguk’s mouth, still curls his fist in Jeongguk’s hair like he’s afraid of him leaving for too long. 

When they pull apart, Jeongguk disappears off the bed for just a second, hard, shiny cock bobbing between his legs as he retrieves the lube from Jimin’s drawer. When he lays back down on the bed, he parts Jimin’s legs and settles between them. 

Warm lips on the inside of Jimin’s thigh he murmurs, “I’ll make you come, hyung.” 

He pours lube over two fingers and pushes one into Jimin at the same time that he takes his cock into his mouth. Still loose and wet from Jeongguk’s tongue, it’s an easy slide, and Jeongguk makes no attempt to go slow. He has Jimin’s back arching off the bed in seconds, the finger inside of him curling up to rub relentlessly at Jimin’s prostate. Jeongguk bobs his head up and down on Jimin’s cock fast, and Jimin doesn’t even try to last. He just moans loudly when he comes, opening his eyes to see Jeongguk pull off his cock and jerk him off through his orgasm. 

For a second, he thinks they’re going to lock gazes, but when Jimin looks at him, he sees that Jeongguk is too busy watching Jimin’s cock and the way come shoots all over Jimin’s toned stomach. He slides a second finger in while Jimin comes, still playing with him as he comes down. 

Jimin’s chest rises and falls heavily as his orgasm washes over him, Jeongguk’s long fingers still fucking in and out of him slowly. Jeongguk only pulls them out when Jimin lets out a high whine, pressing a kiss to Jimin’s abdomen and then sitting up, wrecked and beautiful. 

Jimin lifts his head, and there’s Jeongguk’s cock between his legs, hard and leaking and begging to be touched, begging for Jimin to finish what he started. Jimin looks at him wearily, suddenly cognizant of his flush and the sweat on his brow and his softening cock between his legs. 

He licks his lips, nervous. “Can I?” 

Jeongguk’s eyes widen, and he crawls up the bed to Jimin to kiss him yet again. Shyly, he murmurs, “Please?” 

Jimin caves under his soft gaze, staying where he is to jerk Jeongguk off so he continue kissing him rather than blowing him. He fumbles for the lube as they kiss heavily, drizzling it over his fingers and then using his free hand to card through Jeongguk’s hair. He pumps his fist until Jeongguk comes all over his hand, and they pull apart as soon as Jeongguk finishes with a gasp spoken like a secret against Jimin’s lips. 

Jimin exhales heavily when Jeongguk moves away from him, reaching for a tissue from his nightstand and attempting to clean his hand and belly. He notices the way Jeongguk starts to pull his clothes on right away, and Jimin just watches him. He doesn’t bother to redress himself. He doesn’t bother to feel resentment or embarrassment. He just flutters his eyes shut after a moment to avoid looking at Jeongguk, and then fatigue washes over. 

It has to be at least two in the morning. His breath evens out, he hears the door creak, and he knows he’s by himself again. 

He awakens on his side what must only be a few minutes later. He feels the weight of Jeongguk perched on the side of the bed again, but he forces his eyes to stay shut. Instead, he feels. A warm, damp towel rubs along his belly and the inside of his thighs. A big, cautious hand cards through his hair and softly touches the skin of his cheek. Jimin inhales lightly, and he smells Jeongguk, his fresh and subtle scent. He pretends not to notice any of this, forces his breathing to stay calm and lets Jeongguk do the things he would never do if he thought Jimin were awake.

Jeongguk stays with him for an amount of time Jimin can’t distinguish, rubbing his fingers through Jimin’s hair and running his nails gently along Jimin's back. Eventually, he covers Jimin with a blanket, and he leaves, shutting the door so quietly behind him Jimin hardly hears it close. 

A strange feeling washes over Jimin once he’s alone again, and he opens his eyes to darkness. His bed is empty aside from the heavy weight of his own body, and his lamp has been switched off. Staring at his ceiling, part of him thinks that maybe Jeongguk doesn’t hate him so much. He’s probably known that from the start. But it doesn’t feel anything close to love, or the road to it. 

Besides, who wants to be taken care of, if it’s only by way of the dark?

Notes:

and.... another sad? ending but I PROMISE things will get better soon. i hope you enjoyed this chapter, thank you so much for reading. comments and kudos mean the world to me, and thank you to everyone who has taken the time to give me their thoughts, opinions, and praises so far. hearing all of your thoughts on jeongguk especially have been super interesting because not everyone is thinking the same thing, and it helps me to look at my own characters more critically! i know not everyone reads wips especially those of new writers in the fandom like me so sincerely thank you so much!!

Chapter 4: habits

Summary:

The longer time drags on, the further the two of them feel from enemies, or at the very least people who don’t like to be around each other. Maybe they’re just roommates – not lovers nor friends, but people who turbulently coexist. They still bicker. They send each other foul looks and find excuses to be rude to each other, but it’s more forced now. Almost like instinct, or maybe even habit.

Notes:

HI EVERYONE here i am back with chapter 4!! did you all have a good bangbangcon? i barely slept but it was worth it, it was really good to see them.

these chapters just keep getting longer and longer. i hope you all enjoy chapter 4!! big things happen! thanks for reading and please enjoy.

happy reading!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

mood: ruthless – the marias 

 

Bad habits, Jimin realizes, don’t truly feel like habits until he starts trying to find ways to break them. In this case, Jimin has come up with infinite possibilities of how to work his way out of the pattern they’ve built, but he’s made no effort to try even one of them. Jeongguk is addicting. Jimin wants him all of the time, but they tend to only find each other at night, under cover of darkness, when actions start to feel like they count just a little bit less. 

With the veil of nighttime, Jeongguk becomes all the more alluring, because for the first time in a long time, Jimin allows himself to have something he shouldn’t even want. It’s been almost three months since Jeongguk moved in, and since then, they’ve fallen into a habit, always in Jimin’s bedroom, a steady repeat of bodies crashing together when the lights are out. 

And sex with Jeongguk goes a little bit like this:

 He’s a guilty pleasure. He’s Jimin’s bitter midnight sin that tastes so sweet. Like a fire at the disposal of the wind, this repetition they’ve started has grown into a series of roaring, licking flames – hot, unrelenting, and destructive. It burns, but it’s the very same force that melts down all their sugar into a sticky, candied caramel. Jeongguk is stuck in Jimin’s teeth, irritating and saccharine, the sweetest bother.

But no matter how guilty Jeongguk makes Jimin feel, he’s still the most divine pleasure. He touches Jimin with gentle hands, and he uses a clever mouth, both when he speaks in teasing quips and when he lets his tongue wander Jimin’s body. Jeongguk has developed his own bad habits, tending to leave bruises that connect like dots, but he never fails to make amends with Jimin’s skin just by the way he touches him – never harsh and always a little more tender than he should be. 

Like right now. Jeongguk is hovering over Jimin, Jimin’s legs around his waist and one tattooed hand thumbing gently along the corner of Jimin’s jaw. He’s fucking Jimin slow, because they’re both tired from a long day. His face is in that spot at the crook of Jimin’s neck. His mouth is heavy and hot there, leaving open mouthed kisses along Jimin’s skin at the same pace that he slowly moves his hips. He leans into Jimin’s touch – the fingers in his hair, the small palm on his shoulder. 

It’s cold in Jimin’s room from the open window, and whenever Jeongguk traces his lips over Jimin’s Adam's apple, goosebumps take over his body. Every time Jeongguk feels him shudder, his hands appear like a shiver is their calling, smoothing over Jimin’s chest and arms until he’s warm again. It’s a vicious cycle, circles of hot and cold, echoing the way the two of them are with each other. 

Jeongguk is talkative today. He’s hushed, and his words are muffled into Jimin’s skin, but he whispers and groans like he’s been waiting to let the words out forever. 

“Fuck, hyung,” Jeongguk says softly into Jimin’s neck. He rolls his hips and presses his grip tighter on Jimin’s waist. “I needed this today. Thought about fucking you all day. I wanted you just like this.” 

He picks up Jimin’s hips a little bit more with his words, and Jimin whimpers as he feels Jeongguk’s cock against his prostate and the teeth on his neck. He stays quiet to avoid getting caught up in the moment and saying something like, you have me, you have me just like this. 

He locks the thought away because some days it feels like Jeongguk really does have him. 

Jeongguk helps Jimin through his orgasm, both of their hands fisted over Jimin’s cock until he’s arching off the bed. When Jeongguk comes, it’s with gasped words into Jimin’s neck and a punctuating bite, murmuring, “Fuck, hyung, you’re everything I need.” 

The words sting harder than the bite.

When they come down, it’s easy. Jeongguk parts their bodies in the same way he always does, with a warm kiss pressed to Jimin’s lips, and his fingers, so deliberate as usual, carding through Jimin’s hair. When he lays himself beside Jimin to catch his breath, they rest next to each other in the quiet. The room is filled with lonely exhales, out of sync. 

His hand comes to Jimin’s wrist, and what feels like subconsciously, the pads of his fingers trace gently up and down the soft skin of Jimin’s forearm. 

“That was good,” he breathes. 

Jimin stares at his ceiling and tries to ignore the way there’s come drying on his belly. “Yeah,” he agrees. 

Sitting up, Jeongguk runs a hand through his hair. He’s trying to meet Jimin’s eyes, but Jimin can’t bear it right now, especially when he just had Jeongguk between his legs for so long. Maybe they shouldn’t do slow sex. It’s too much at once. 

“Um, well. I’ll go shower,” says Jeongguk. He scoots toward the edge of the bed and hangs his legs off the side, his hand still resting lightly on Jimin’s arm. 

Jimin sits up and moves his arm away in the process, but he’s forced to look at Jeongguk, who seems like he’s waiting for something. 

“Okay…” Jimin replies, unsure of what else to say. 

“Do you want a towel?” Jeongguk blurts. His eyes are wide and a little bit frantic, like a deer. “Um. From the bathroom.” 

Jimin just shakes his head and looks over at the tissues. “I’m fine.” 

Jeongguk nods and stands, donning his boxers and gathering the rest of his clothes in his arms. “Right, of course you are.” 

Jimin doesn’t bother to get defensive, he just wipes himself down and waits for Jeongguk to leave so he can decompress on his own time. When Jeongguk reaches Jimin’s bedroom door, he loiters with a hand on the door knob. Looking over his shoulder he mumbles, “Jimin – um. Jimin-hyung. I’m gonna make dinner, will you eat?” 

It’s a little bit late for a meal, but as soon as Jeongguk came home he’d gotten Jimin into bed. 

“Sure,” says Jimin quietly. “Whatever.” 

“Okay,” replies Jeongguk. He opens the door and stands in the entryway, ever so beautiful even as he curls in on himself a little bit shyly, nothing like the man who lifts Jimin up against the wall and kisses him against the front door of their apartment when he wants sex after class. His eyes are downcast, and Jimin can’t help but look at him as he looks away. He focuses on the slope of Jeongguk’s shoulders, the strength of his thighs, the collection of freckles from which one makes an appearance every so often on his smooth skin (on his ear, his neck, his back). 

“I can leave some out when I’m done cooking, after I shower and stuff,” Jeongguk says. 

Jimin lifts the corner of his lips in the smallest smile, unsure of what else to offer him. Any gestures of kindness between the two of them always feel illicit, unless it’s a kiss or a touch weaved into the way they fuck. 

“Thanks,” Jimin replies eventually. It’s the least he can say. He at the minimum owes Jeongguk his gratitude when it’s genuine. And there’s a lot more he can thank him for than just dinner. He’s tired of pretending he’s not overwhelmingly thankful for Jeongguk just coming to see him at night. 

Jeongguk slips out of the room, and though Jimin is grateful for Jeongguk cooking and he knows why Jeongguk never asks for them to eat together, he still can’t help but wonder what a meal together would be like, and if they’d be able to get through it without fighting or fucking. 

 

☾ ☾ ☾

 

It’s Wednesday, and Jimin has been quiet since he sat down. He’s sure Namjoon has noticed, but he’s testing Jimin and waiting for him to speak up first. Jimin’s coffee and croissant sit mostly untouched, a true sign that he’s feeling anxious. 

He knows that Jeongguk and Namjoon have been hanging out a lot; Jimin often overhears Jeongguk excitedly and happily rambling to Taehyung about his days spent with his hyungs and the adventures they go on together. It makes Jimin wonder how Namjoon handles two of his closest friends being in the situation that Jimin and Jeongguk have built for themselves. He never pries or overshares, even though Jimin is pretty sure that both of them come to him with their own thoughts and problems. Namjoon has always been good at compartmentalizing. He knows how to tuck things away for just himself. 

But it’s only as Jimin absently stirs the foam of his coffee, watching the bubbles disappear in the little vortex created by his spoon, that he realizes that he’s normally good at doing that, too. When it comes to everything but this, everything but Jeongguk, Jimin has always been able to shove his own feelings down to take care of others, Namjoon included. Jimin was there for him when he was rejected from his first publisher, just like he was there for Taehyung when he lost his grandma and for Hoseok when he had to take a gap year in the middle of his studies to work full time. 

So he decides to reveal himself. He shows himself to Namjoon, even if it’s just a little bit. He shows himself even though Namjoon looks intimidating from behind his glasses and in his t-shirt that shows the strong length of his arms and with a page of his scrawled poetry open in front of him. Namjoon looks like he knows everything there is to know in the world, and even though there have been many riverside nights spent with the two of them talking about all of the things they don’t know, all of the things they want to know, the fear that the things that they already know may change, there are still times where Jimin gets scared into believing that Namjoon might have learned enough to start to see him differently. 

He fears that now more than ever, and he knows that it’s because he has something to be ashamed of when he never really used to. He’s had regretful things, maybe, and things to be pressured on. He’s had weak points and vulnerabilities and dreams that Namjoon was always the first to encourage him to chase – but he’s never really felt shame quite like this. 

Tilting his head, he opens his mouth knowing he’s going to ask the wrong question, but he doesn’t know how else to speak the state of his heart right now. He licks his lips and tucks his hair behind his ears. His earrings dangle, and he watches Namjoon’s eyes follow him. 

“Hyung…” he starts slowly. “Does Jeongguk talk to you about me?”

It’s a redundant question. He knows the answer. But he wants to watch Namjoon as he responds to it, thinking maybe some of Jeongguk’s emotions will cross Namjoon’s face as if they’re his own. 

Namjoon sighs, looking down at his notebook. He looks tired just from the prospect of answering, and even though that’s not the way Jeongguk is feeling, he thinks it probably could be. This whole thing is exhausting. 

“Jimin-ah,” murmurs Namjoon, “no offense, but that’s not really for me to discuss.” 

Namjoon, of course, is checking all of the boxes that Jimin had already crossed off for him. Jimin doesn’t know how to ask questions that lead to answers beyond what he’s already aware of. 

“I just want to know if he does or not,” Jimin replies, knowing Namjoon is seeing right through him. His face reads, Really? You’re asking me this? 

“Of course he does,” Namjoon replies dismissively. “The same way you talk to me about him. But I won’t betray his trust.” 

Jimin frowns. “I’m not expecting you to.”

Namjoon’s face softens, and he closes his notebook. He looks worried. “Aren’t you tired, being mad at him? Have you considered talking?” 

Jimin’s own thoughts are reflected back at him – of course he’s tired, of course he’s thought about talking. Surely, he’s just as exhausted as Jeongguk. Giving away parts of himself is only as gratifying as dealing with the sting of pain after he’s ripped each little piece away. It’s been getting worse every day. Every time Jeongguk brushes his hair from Jimin’s eyes, every time he lingers a little longer during a kiss, every time his eyes flash just a hint of sadness at the sounds of Jimin’s harsh words, Jimin grows a little more fatigued.

Of course he’s tired. 

But once again Namjoon is asking like he already knows the answer, so he doesn’t feel the need to respond. If anyone can tell the ways in which Jimin’s carefully sharpened corners have been eroded into something soft, it’s Namjoon.

Jimin’s frown deepens, and in the same manner he does with Jeongguk, he grows defensive. “Hyung, I love and respect you so much, but if you’re asking me these questions, you better be asking them to him, too.” 

Namjoon stays quiet, but he’s not mad. He’s probably just thinking. Jimin wonders what version of Jeongguk that Namjoon sees, how Jeongguk would answer these questions, if he’s honest with his friends or has started to hide like Jimin is so tempted to do. 

The silence lingers a little too long, which tells Jimin that Namjoon is waiting for him to speak again. Taking his hands into his lap to play with the rings on his fingers, he softly admits, “I don’t hate him.” 

 

mood: halfway up – the brook and the bluff

 

Namjoon cracks the softest of smiles. It’s knowing, as Jimin could have predicted. “I know you don’t,” he replies easily. 

Jimin huffs. His eyes sting a little bit. “I don’t even know what we are,” he mumbles. His mouth curls syllables from his mouth uneasily, like he’s betraying his own body with his disclosure. “I don’t know how we got here. We don’t even really… bicker anymore. I mean, we do… but it’s forced? Like, I have to remind myself to be mean. Isn’t that fucked up? I don’t even want to be mad at him even though I know I still have a reason to be. Nothing is like it was at the beginning, and I don’t know if he’s still angry either. We’re both contradicting ourselves all the time. Sometimes I forget why I was angry in the first place. Most of the time, we’re either having sex or nothing.”

When people say the truth hurts, they never talk about the pain that comes with sharing his own truth. He wants to clear his throat even though there’s nothing stuck in it. Jimin lets out a long sigh and then breathes in, like the first breath taken after being underwater. Above the surface, he can see a little clearer. Namjoon has always had a way of things more obvious for him, even if he says nothing at all. 

“You’re right,” admits Jimin. “I’m still mad , but you’re right. And I’m definitely too tired to keep fighting. To be honest, I think I’m more upset that he’s just never tried to apologize.” 

The words are hard to say but he’s not sure why. Namjoon already knows how he feels. He probably knows better than anyone else the extent of Jimin’s feelings, because he knows Jeongguk’s heart. He knows the heart that Jimin got to see so very briefly before it was hidden behind whatever he’s presented with now. It’s a mask with cracks and holes but a mask nonetheless. Jimin never counts on seeing through it, but he’s sure that despite everything, despite all this time that has passed, that the same version of Jeongguk still rests behind it – the cheeky, cute boy who swept Jimin off his feet for the first time in his life. 

But knowing that he’s still there is not the problem. It’s still wanting him that makes Jimin so ashamed. And he’s too prideful to do anything about it. 

Namjoon quirks an eyebrow, painfully aware of the way Jimin’s response barely scratched the surface. “So you’re just being passive aggressive instead?” 

Jimin recoils a little, furrowing his brow. “I didn’t say that.” 

Namjoon huffs, diverting his eyes. “I know… He did.” 

Jimin crosses his arms, but he keeps his emotions at bay, trading anger for honesty. “I’m not passive aggressive. I’m really trying not to be, at least not anymore. I can’t say I don’t get caught up sometimes, because I do. I know I’m defensive. But I know I can’t keep this up the way I have been, especially now that I’ve… said all of this to you. I’ve gone so long without talking about any of it. Jeongguk and I have been playing this game for so long that I just – I want to figure out how to say I care without saying I care.” 

He admits this uneasily, even though once again, he’s sure Namjoon already knows this. He knew from the start. He knew before Jimin even told him that the person on the other end of his feelings is Jeongguk 

Namjoon cocks his head. “Why don’t you just outright say it?” 

Jimin’s eyes flash. “Because he doesn’t care the way I want him to.” And I feel stupid for caring in the first place.

Jimin has accepted this much. If he doesn’t get the disguise of anger, if he doesn’t give himself something to fight about, hiding the way he feels is going to be much, much harder. 

Might as well be discrete about it. 

“That’s not something you get to choose.” 

Jimin curls his hand and releases it. “I know,” he sighs. “So if I have to be a little… removed in the way I show my feelings, whatever. So be it.” 

“Jimin-ah,” Namjoon says, fighting a smile. 

“What?” 

Namjoon nudges Jimin’s croissant a little closer to him. “I’m just saying – normally you wouldn’t show your feelings at all.” 

 

☾ ☾ ☾

 

Jimin spends a long time thinking about why Namjoon was so happy that he’s showing his feelings. He thinks he understands, but it doesn’t really hit him until he gets home late from the library one night and finds Jeongguk asleep on the couch. 

There’s a book next to him, a bookmark tucked neatly between some of the pages, and an unfinished cup of coffee rests on their table. His messy hair is all over his closed eyes, and he’s absolutely swimming in a big hoodie that’s bunched up around his waist. He’s not quite laying down, but it looks like he was on his way there when he fell asleep. He looks so peaceful, even though the harsh lighting of their living room contrasts that. Jimin’s chest defies him with a huge rush of affection when he walks in on the scene. As soon as he toes off his shoes, the cold floors remind him of how chilly their apartment has been at night lately. 

He approaches the couch carefully, grabbing the blanket folded on the loveseat and gently placing it over Jeongguk’s sleeping form. He doesn’t stir, so Jimin stays, sitting on the arm of the couch and raising the most cautious of hands to Jeongguk’s hair. He cards through gently, and while Jeongguk doesn’t wake, he shifts a little bit closer, the side of his face coming to press against Jimin’s thigh. Even through his pants, Jimin can feel the warmth of his breath. 

Like this, Jimin can make out how Jeongguk’s jaw softens when he sleeps. He eyes the scar on his cheek and dares to run his finger across it before softly caressing his face. He notices the mole on his forehead, in the exact same place that he has one of his own. In the stillness of the late night, he realizes the reason he’s never been able to notice all of these things about Jeongguk is because he’s usually so afraid of having to look away. 

His big hands are curled up by his side, and Jimin stares at the tattoo that’s been catching his eye from the first time he saw it, a small, detailed butterfly just beneath the juncture of his thumb and his index finger. In a moment of weakness, he overlays their hands and squeezes before withdrawing. He leaves his hand in Jeongguk’s hair, but as he continues to touch him so carefully, he stops to wonder if Jeongguk felt any of the things that Jimin feels right now when he came back to Jimin’s bed to so sweetly clean him all those nights ago. 

Was his heart racing like Jimin’s is? Did he stop to run his eyes over Jimin’s own tattoos? Did he want to lay down beside him?

His chest grows even tighter. As he stands to finally go to his room, he hesitates. For a second, he thinks about waking Jeongguk up so he can go be comfortable in his own bed, but he can’t. The thought of Jeongguk, sleepy and blinking up at him is scary. Jimin imagines such a soft sort of intimacy, and he’s not sure he could handle a moment like that. The thought of Jeongguk being upset with him for waking him up is even scarier. 

This one-sided intimacy is enough for now.

He pulls the blanket just a little bit higher over Jeongguk’s form one last time, and as he turns off the lights and pads back to his room, cold floors under his feet, he realizes that Namjoon is happy that he cares simply because caring feels good. Namjoon wants Jimin to feel that. 

The only problem, Jimin thinks, is that he wants to feel it back – and not just when he’s half asleep under Jeongguk’s touch or moaning into his mouth with his hands running down his back.

 

mood: love galore – sza, travis scott 

 

The next morning, Jeongguk seems to avoid Jimin even harder than usual, most likely knowing that it was Jimin who put the blanket on him because Taehyung hadn’t come home. Maybe they’re both too scared to confront what all of this means, but they pick up this habit of begrudgingly doing favors for one another. They mask their sweet gestures with a frown, and Jimin tells himself this habit of picking up each other’s slack is a mere consequence of living together. How could they not? It’s only natural to fill in the gaps for a roommate. Jimin can’t help learning what Jeongguk makes time for and what he doesn’t. It would be strange if they didn’t come to know each other’s schedules, and if Jimin has to do something for Jeongguk every once in a while, he will. 

Taehyung fits into the equation, of course – but he’s somewhat absent, so often with Hoseok that Jimin regularly teases him about just moving out all together. The difference is the fact that it’s not strange for Jimin or Jeongguk to do things for Taehyung. They have been from the start, and it’s always with a smile, in the unspoken manner that either of them would do for a friend without thinking. 

When they do things for each other, there’s always an air of spitefulness that’s just enough to leave Jimin feeling sour at the end of it all. 

Jeongguk pokes his head into Jimin’s door as he’s made habit of doing, and he peers at Jimin’s growing pile of laundry, overflowing out of his hamper. Not meeting Jimin’s eyes, he uses a tone that leaves Jimin unsure if he’s being cheeky or shy, muttering, “You sweat a lot, right?”

Jimin just has to blink. He doesn’t even sweat that much. “What?” 

“I mean, from dance.” 

“What about it?” Jimin sighs. 

Jeongguk huffs. He looks pointedly at Jimin’s hamper. “I’m trying to ask if you need laundry done, Jimin,” he says in a dry voice, as if Jimin is the one making this difficult. “You’ve been busy.” 

Jimin cannot imagine how saying you sweat a lot could possibly lead to can I do your laundry so he pulls a face. “Try being up front for once? Just ask the question?” he suggests. 

Jeongguk gives him a dirty look. “Try being less of an ass?” 

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Clearly I need my laundry done.” 

“Great. Was that so hard to answer?” 

“Apparently it was hard to ask.” 

Jeongguk just tears his gaze away from Jimin, storms into his room, and leaves with the overflowing hamper under his arm. “You’re welcome!” he calls over his shoulder. 

Two hours later, he deposits warm stacks of folded clothes on Jimin’s bed, and Jimin can only hope that his murmured, “Thank you,” is loud enough for Jeongguk to leave before he flees. 

Jeongguk has his own bad habit of staying up way too late for someone who has routine nine AM lectures, so when Jimin is not reminding him of the time and telling him to go to sleep when he gets lost in his assignments or readings, he’s knocking on Jeongguk’s door to wake him up in the morning. Jimin doesn’t go into his bedroom to gently rouse him like he would for Taehyung – he rarely enters Jeongguk’s space at all – but he always makes sure he hears footsteps from the end of the hallway before he leaves the house if he’s headed out first. 

He starts making extra coffee in the pot on days he knows Jeongguk stayed up too late and sleeps in to the point of sacrificing his routine of being “semi-on time” into “definitely tardy.” The first time it happens, Jeongguk shuffles sleepily into the kitchen, hair a mess, outfit an all grey slew of comfy soft fabric, and tatttooed hands rubbing at his tired eyes. Jimin stands leaning against the counter and points to their coffee pot. 

“You can have the rest,” he mutters. 

“What?” Jeongguk groans, voice low and still laden with sleep. Hearing it like this always makes Jimin imagine mornings with him beneath his soft sheets, but he’s good at chasing the thought away. They can hardly handle the dark, let alone sunrise, or soft midmorning light. 

“The coffee,” Jimin says. “You can have it.” 

Jeongguk blinks, but he eases closer, feet still dragging on the ground. “Is it poisoned?” he mumbles. 

Jimin is almost tempted to laugh, like they’re in an alternate universe and this could be a funny little joke Jeongguk makes to him on the regular. Instead he huffs, grumbles, “Don’t make me change my mind, Jeon Jeongguk. Now take it and get out of here, before you’re late.” 

Jeongguk just ducks his head and pours it into a to-go cup, muttering under his breath something that sounds like “Thank you” and “see you later.” 

Their fucked up grocery pool only manages to get worse the longer the three of them live together. Jimin and Taehyung used to share and were forced into labelling their stuff when Jaeyoon lived with them, but since Jeongguk has moved in, they’ve all irresponsibly thrown money at groceries and tried to either take turns shopping or pay whoever goes two times in a row. On account of that, they’re always sharing food and picking at the leftovers of whoever cooked the night before, but naturally, Jimin and Jeongguk tended to avoid each other’s cooking just for sake of avoiding another reason to start a fight. 

But now, just as Jeongguk notices Jimin’s favorite things to eat, he picks up the habit of making them. He’ll cook on Sunday nights or during that funny midweek break he gets where his classes don’t start until evening time, and then he’ll send Jimin these passive, neutral texts saying there’s food in the fridge, and nothing more. 

Their ebb and flow shifts from working around each other to working with each other – but from a distance. Jimin’s not sure how he feels about the change, but again he does nothing to stop it, too caught up with the idea of what Jeongguk’s affections would look like if they were whole and uninhibited. The longer time drags on, the further the two of them feel from enemies, or at the very least people who don’t like to be around each other. Maybe they’re just roommates – not lovers nor friends, but people who turbulently coexist. They still bicker. They send each other foul looks and find excuses to be rude to each other, but it’s more forced now. Almost like instinct, or maybe even habit. It’s another thing that Jimin is unsure that he wants to break. Suddenly being nice would mean losing, surely. 

Taehyung checks in on him often, but Jimin tends to wave him off, and not because he’s afraid to admit what he’s feeling. He just has nothing to say at this point, because he knows that Taehyung is aware of his feelings, and he knows that he has very little on his side to justify his actions. Still Taehyung comes, the devoted friend he is, and this time it’s just as he’s about to leave the house, finding Jimin once again at his desk, scanning over papers. 

Jimin jolts at the sound of his door opening, but he relaxes at Taehyung’s presence, who waltzes in with a flourish and leaves the door wide open behind him. He comes to hug Jimin from behind, bending over to wrap his arms around Jimin’s neck from where he sits at his desk chair. He plants a firm kiss to Jimin’s cheek and then pulls back, immediately starting to prod at Jimin’s neck and pull at his collar. 

“These are cute,” Taehyung says, pressing into the bruises on Jimin’s neck. “Are they in style these days? It feels like you’re always wearing them.” 

Jimin swats at him. “Shut up,” he whines. 

Taehyung laughs at him and stans, squeezing Jimin’s shoulders. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” 

He asks this question every few days. Usually Jimin just dismisses him, but the past few days in particular have only made things more confusing, between Namjoon’s words and Jeongguk’s actions. 

“No,” Jimin replies honestly, but unbothered. He really has no clue. 

Taehyung laughs again. “Okay, as long as you’re sure.” 

Jimin snorts and rolls his eyes. “Yes, I’m sure I’m unsure.” 

Taehyung, still giggling, keeps his voice teasing but looks at Jimin so he knows his words are serious. “Perfect!” he chirps. “I’m here if you need me, baby. Jeongguk and I are going to the movies.”

“Thanks for the invite, loser,” Jimin quips. 

Taehyung slaps his shoulder playfully. “You would’ve said no anyway.” 

It’s true. Jimin tries to avoid hanging out as the three of them, afraid of the inevitable tension that would develop – sexual or otherwise. Still, he keeps their bit going, because he hasn’t seen much of Taehyung lately with how busy they’ve been, and he misses him. 

He sticks out his tongue. “Not the point.” 

“You get to fuck him when he gets home anyway, so quit whining. Go do your homework or something.” 

Jimin gestures pointedly at the papers he was reading before Taehyung entered the room, but Taehyung pretends not to see. “We’re not fucking while you’re home,” Jimin laughs. 

“Why not?” Taehyung asks, preposturized that Jimin would deny himself sex. He’s grown pretty comfortable with the whole situation, especially as there’s been less fighting lately. “You have before.” 

“We try to be quiet!” Jimin mumbles, blushing a little bit. For as much as he knows that Taehyung is very aware of his and Jeongguk’s… arrangement, he tries not to be so blatant about it. Even if the hickeys on his neck tend to suggest the opposite of blatancy. 

“Well,” Taehyung snorts. “F for effort?” 

“Shut up,” Jimin grumbles. “It’s payback.” 

Taehyung just shrugs, very clearly pleased with himself. “Anyway, I’m not coming home tonight, so have fun.” He winks. 

Jimin pouts at him. “You always sleep at Hoseok’s. I’m alone every night,” he whines. 

“Cuddle Jeongguk,” Taehyung suggests. 

Jimin makes a disgusted face, though it’s forced. He’s not disgusted, it’s more like the thought of cuddling him again is unimaginable. Or rather, too painful to try to imagine. “Fuck no?” 

Taehyung sweeps a hand over his forehead, swooning. “But those strong arms, ugh.” 

Jimin turns in his chair to look more directly at him, crossing his arms over his chest. “I talk to you about his arms once, and you have to take it and run?” 

Taehyung tsks at him, disappointed. “What else am I supposed to do? Just say yeah and let you get away with being gross?” 

Jimin pushes him by the hip toward his door. “I hate you. Now leave, go have fun, whatever, I love you.”

Taehyung blows him a kiss and waltzes right back out of his door, singing out, “ Bye, baby,” before calling for Jeongguk to leave. 

 

mood: find an island – benee

 

Jimin does actually do his homework, but it doesn’t take particularly long, so that’s exactly how he finds himself moving back the furniture in the living room, playing music over their speaker, and dancing for three hours. Already sore from the class he had earlier, he pushes through it, shifting from practicing some of the routines that he and Hoseok have been working on into some of the other ideas that have been relentlessly running through his head. He just lets his body move the way it wants to, not thinking too hard. 

It’s different, dancing without a mirror. His perfectionism simmers down a little, so he focuses on the feeling instead of the outcome. He dares to play some of the songs he’s been tucking away on playlists he usually never touches. He smiles to himself. He laughs to himself. He feels such a burst of inspiration, but he has no idea where it’s coming from. All he knows is that he’s been building up so many emotions for so long that he knows he needs to turn them into something. He touches a feeling he hasn’t gotten while dancing alone in a long time, and under the rush of happiness he’s wrapped in, he pulls out his phone to text Hoseok to ask him if they can book studio time to show him. But before he presses send, he hesitates.

Sitting on their cold floors, he looks at the blinking text bar on his phone, wondering why he’s stopping himself. He’s not always sure why he holds back from the things he wants to do. He knows part of it is a fear of being imperfect, but then there’s moments like these, where he knows he performs with anything but the grace he expects from himself, yet he still wants to keep going. As he often has been doing, his mind routes back to Jeongguk. The devil on Jimin’s shoulder reminds him that he didn’t stop himself when pursuing Jeongguk, and look where that got him? But the angel arrives in time, who speaks to him a little bit like Namjoon and Taehyung do, saying at least he gets to feel what it’s like to care, and – not to dismiss a benefit where it counts – at least he gets the sex. 

He tucks his phone away without sending the text, but he promises himself to think about it. He dances until he’s breathless, and he finally relents when he feels like his legs are going to give out beneath him from the way they’re shaking. He gets water and adjusts the furniture, kind of hungry but not wanting to eat after such a high. He’s too shaky to think about standing in the kitchen to cook, so he brings himself back onto the floor and stretches himself into a child's pose. He works through his cool down stretch, but the tension in his muscles doesn’t really let up. 

With his eyes closed and the music washing over him, he’s folded in half to reach past his toes when the door opens. He jumps at the sight of Jeongguk, cute as always in a rare pair of tight jeans and his usual big tee. Jeongguk peers down at the way that he’s folded, but when Jimin gets up to attempt to curl up on the couch to hide how tired he probably looks, he’s stifled by his own muscles. 

He groans as he stands, placing a hand on the junction of his neck and shoulder, where his chronic pain lies. “Fuck,” he breathes, sucking air through his teeth. He hisses when he tries to lift his arms over his head. 

“Sore?” Jeongguk asks, toeing off his shoes. 

Jimin looks at him carefully, studying his motive. He looks happy, the way he usually does when coming from hanging out with Taehyung, but there’s a worry line between his eyebrows. 

“Yeah,” says Jimin cautiously. He moves slowly to the couch and lowers himself down gently, knowing he’s overworked himself but only now realizing that he’s finished with the work itself. 

Jeongguk’s concern shifts into something a little devilish, and as he comes to sit next to Jimin he says, “Let me give you a massage.” 

He seats himself so that their thighs are touching, and immediately his hand falls to Jimin’s knee. 

“No,” replies Jimin. 

“Why not?” Jeongguk asks, but he removes his hand and folds his fingers neatly in his lap. He never, ever crosses Jimin’s boundaries. 

“You don’t have to, I’m fine,” Jimin dismisses. He rolls his neck, and like the universe is playing tricks on him, he winces at the feeling. 

Jeongguk gives him a look. “Hyung, you insist that I’m mean to you, but turn me down when I try to do something nice? Just let me.” 

He pouts a little bit, and he’s so cute Jimin thinks that if he weren’t so sore, he’d melt right into the couch. With his bottom lips jutting out, he leans a little bit closer, waiting for Jimin’s response. 

Jimin looks down at Jeongguk’s patient, soft hands and thinks of the way they touch him. He protests very, very weakly. “I’m fine, though.” 

Jeongguk raises one big palm to Jimin’s shoulder and squeezes gently, and Jimin lets out a moan immediately. Shaking his head, Jeongguk clearly has had enough, so he gently puts his other hand on Jimin’s waist, muttering, “Shut up, lay down. I’m giving you a massage. I know you’re lying.” 

Jimin grumbles, shifting on the couch gingerly. “Just so you know, I don’t owe you anything for this.” 

Jeongguk cocks his head and bats his pretty eyelashes. “Not even a kiss?”

Jimin snorts. “Since when do you wanna kiss me without fucking me after?” 

Jeongguk just smirks, gently lifting Jimin’s shirt over his head and leaning in right after. He cups Jimin’s face. “Who said I’m not fucking you after this, hyung?” 

“Fucking brat,” Jimin mumbles, but it’s mostly lost to the fondness that has overwhelmed him and the sound of their lips meeting. 

It’s not a long kiss, because Jeongguk pulls away before Jimin can start clinging to him. He tells Jimin to lay down and then disappears, feet padding down the hallway. Jimin situates himself on his stomach, laying his arms by his side and leaving his cheek pressed into one of the soft pillows that sits on their couch. 

Jeongguk is back in an instant, but Jimin closes his eyes, hearing him set things on their coffee table but not bothering to look. His body sinks into the couch, some of tension easing out and exchanging itself for arousal, coming only from the prospect of Jeongguk touching him like this. His eyes snap open when he feels breath ghosting by his face. Jeongguk, now shirtless himself and changed into sweats, kneels before Jimin on the couch, raising a hand to his hair to brush it from his eyes. It’s a soft gesture that makes Jimin’s heart twist in his chest, but he lets it happen. He’s too tired to think twice about anything. Jeongguk gently tilts Jimin’s head to lick into his mouth for a moment. 

He pulls back from the kiss and confidently says, “I’m gonna make hyung feel good.” 

Jimin just raises his eyebrows before shutting his eyes again, mumbling, “You didn’t have to take your shirt off, too.” 

“Don’t act like you’re mad, Jimin,” teases Jeongguk. The endearing way of saying Jimin’s name makes him squirm. He squeezes his eyes tighter shut. 

“Get to work, kid,” he bites. 

Jeongguk leans in again, breath ghosting along Jimin’s earlobe before biting down teasingly. “Lose the attitude, hyung. ” 

“Does Jeonggukie want hyung to tell him how sexy he is? Is that it?” Jimin goads, eyes open once more. 

He watches Jeongguk stand and grab a bottle from the table, and then he feels the way Jeongguk throws a leg over his waist and sits just below his ass, on his thighs. “That’ll be happening whether I want it to or not.” 

“Ah, we’ll see about that,” Jimin murmurs. He prepares to say something else, but then there’s oil being dripped onto his back and warm palms pressing into his bare skin, and all words are lost on him. 

Jeongguk’s hands start slowly, just rubbing the oil into his skin with the heels of his palms. Trying not to get lost to the touch right away, Jimin mumbles into the pillow, “Why do you have oil, anyway?” 

“Moisturizing. I like to use essential oils. I have a sensitive nose, so sometimes lotions bother me.” 

“Oh,” says Jimin. He breathes in and smells a faint chamomile. He can’t think of much to say after that. 

Jeongguk traces his fingers up Jimin’s spine, pressing into his muscles but not massaging yet. His warm hands stop at Jimin’s hairline like he has to remind himself to not touch his hair when they’re covered in oil, and then he moves lower again, pushing down on Jimin’s lower back and hearing the way a few vertebrae pop at the pressure. He waits until Jimin relaxes completely before he starts to grip Jimin’s shoulders to work at the knots there. His touch is as careful as ever, and Jimin comes undone beneath him, letting out soft moans and big exhales beneath Jeongguk’s weight. 

His body thanks him with every movement of Jeongguk’s nimble fingers. 

“You have really nice skin,” Jeongguk mumbles shyly. “But you’re really tight. I’m sure your muscles are not happy with you.” 

Jimin groans into the pillow when Jeongguk drags his knuckles over his shoulder blades. “Sorry I can’t afford a personal masseuse.” 

Jeongguk just laughs softly above him, running his deft hands down Jimin’s sides for the sake of the shudder that he knows will come rather than for the massage. As he works through Jimin’s knots, Jimin gets more and more turned on beneath him. His cock is trapped against the couch beneath him, but he stays still, letting Jeongguk rub at the back of his biceps, so tired from lifting up his own weight all the time. Jeongguk works at his muscles for a long time, always pausing to make sure that Jimin is okay when he lets out a wince. He lets his hands glide over Jimin’s skin like a swan on the glass surface of a lake, graceful and deliberate.

He seems to break eventually, though, leaning his chest over Jimin’s back so that their skin is finally flush. He shifts forward with the movement, and Jimin feels the hot, hard length of Jeongguk’s cock press against his ass through Jeongguk’s sweats and his own leggings. Jeongguk presses his lips to Jimin’s shoulder and rocks forward slightly, simply to tease. 

“Feel good, hyung?” Jeongguk murmurs into his skin. 

“Yeah,” breathes Jimin. “You’re actually really good at this.” 

“I wouldn’t have offered if I thought I was going to hurt you more,” grumbles Jeongguk in offense. 

“I didn’t think you would,” Jimin snaps back. 

“Well, good,” Jeongguk bites, and then he sinks his teeth into Jimin’s shoulder and rolls his hips. He grinds gently on top of Jimin, hands still gripping both of his biceps as he starts to litter kisses all over Jimin’s neck and shoulders. As the hard line of Jeongguk’s cock brushes his ass, he moans. Jeongguk keeps moving, his mouth moving up the side of Jimin’s neck to his ear. “Did I turn you on, hyung?” 

 

mood: even if it hurts – tei shi, blood orange

 

“Maybe,” Jimin breathes, but his voice is high, and his breathlessness gives him away. 

Jeongguk hums and sits up again, scooting back and giving his hands another tour of Jimin’s back, stopping to grip the slightness of Jimin’s waist until they’ve reached the waistband of his briefs peeking out of the leggings. 

He chuckles as he runs his fingers beneath Jimin’s pants. “I was just trying to help with your muscles, Jimin-hyung.” 

Jimin snaps his head back to look at his smug face, ignoring the slight pain in his neck to bark, “As if your hard cock wasn’t just pressed between my ass cheeks?” 

“I never said anything about what you do to me,” replies Jeongguk easily. “Can I touch you now?” 

“You’ve been touching me this whole time,” Jimin replies. 

Jeongguk drags two of his fingers over the place where Jimin’s hole is hidden beneath his clothes. He hooks his thumbs beneath Jimin’s waistband. “C’mon, hyung, I know you’re smarter than that. You know what I’m talking about.” 

“Do not start with me, you bratty kid.” He lifts his hips up.

“You sure call me a brat a lot for someone who likes my cock so much,” Jeongguk replies, pulling Jimin’s leggings and briefs down so they sit right where Jeongguk’s thighs are on top of Jimin’s. He repeats the same motion with his two fingers again, using one hand to spread Jimin’s cheeks apart and the other to drag two fingers over his hole. 

Fuck ,” Jimin mutters at the touch. “Just because I like your cock doesn’t mean I have to like the way you talk.” 

“No?” Jeongguk questions, leaning over to the table to pick up the lube he must have brought over with the oil. He slicks up his fingers and starts to play with Jimin, still sitting back on his haunches and using his other hand to squeeze the flesh of Jimin’s round ass. Jimin’s muscles groan. His glutes are fucking sore, too.

“Not even when I tell you how fucking hot you are, laid out on the couch for me?” Jeongguk continues. “‘Cause you’re fucking ridiculous, hyung. Letting me massage you like this. I wanna get you on my cock right away, fuck you full, fuck you so good you can’t even talk.” 

Jimin chokes back a gasp, Jeongguk’s first finger pressing into his hole. “Is that your way of saying you wanna shut me up, too?” he replies as Jeongguk curls his finger inside of him. Jimin squirms against the couch. 

“No,” Jeongguk replies. “I just like the way you sound when my cock’s in you. So loud, hyung. Always gasping for it.”

“Shut up, Jeongguk-ah.” 

Jeongguk fucks him slowly, now using his free hand to rub slow patterns into Jimin’s oily back. “No problem. I’ll get to hear it in a few minutes anyway.” 

His attitude is pissing Jimin off, but it’s almost making him more turned on. He has to hold back from rocking forward onto the couch or back onto Jeongguk’s hand, knowing his ego will weep and his muscles will scream. 

Jeongguk carries on, using the way Jimin is spread out beneath him to his advantage. He starts to trace patterns into Jimin’s skin instead of massaging him, still teasing him with just one finger working slowly inside him. “You know,” he says slowly. “You look really good oiled up like this. Maybe I should give you a massage more often.” He rubs the flat of his palm along the dip of Jimin’s spine and stops it right at the cleft of his ass. “You look good ass up, too.” 

Jimin shivers beneath him despite himself. He doesn’t want to give in to the way Jeongguk is talking to him, but he makes it so hard not to. He lets out a moan when the pad of Jeongguk’s finger rubs inside of him. “Fuck,” he manages to say. “You literally never stop, do you? Always talking.” 

Jeongguk just chuckles, hands never stilling. “You like when I talk. Don’t think I don’t see the way you shiver every time I whisper in your ear.” 

“Once again–” Jimin starts, but as soon as he hears his own voice he knows his comeback is going to fall flat – he’s breathless and yearning and he knows it. “–none of this means that I like what you have to say. I just like the way you feel.” 

Jeongguk leans over him to ghost his lips on Jimin’s shoulders. “I still don’t believe you,” he murmurs. He hums, and Jimin feels the reverberations of his voice run their course all over his body, like Jeongguk’s lips are a drop of water and Jimin’s always subject to their ripple effect. “Don’t you like to hear me talk about how tight your hole is? How bad it makes me wanna fuck you? I could play with you for hours.” 

He sits back up, but the one finger he has inside of Jimin is still moving slowly, so teasingly. 

“Ah–” Jimin hisses when Jeongguk crooks his fingers. He couldn’t even imagine this for hours. “Why don’t you? Holding back on me, brat?” 

Jeongguk hums again, but his voice is more distant this time. Maybe it’s Jimin’s imagination, but his teasing sounds a little more hollow. “Oh, like you could stand being around me for that long,” Jeongguk mutters. It’s supposed to be a joke, but it doesn’t really feel like that for either of them. “When we go slow you can barely look at me by the end.” 

Jimin swallows. He wonders if Jeongguk can see right through him – if he knows that having sex is always a give and a take for Jimin. He wants it and wishes he didn’t. He does it and wishes he wouldn’t. He pushes back onto Jeongguk’s hand anyway. “Well, good thing I’m ass up, right?” he tries. “I don’t have to look at you at all.” 

It hurts to choke out the words, because all he’s thinking about is the way Jeongguk looks when he’s hiding behind his hair and offers Jimin that sweet subconscious smile that’s made a habit of slipping past his lips right after they kiss. 

“What if I wanna look at you, hyung?” Jeongguk whispers. His hand rubs gently up and down Jimin’s side as he eases another finger next to the first. “I kind of want you to ride me on this couch so I can see what your face looks like when you get all loud.” 

Jimin moans into his pillow. He wants that. He wants to sit on Jeongguk’s cock and reach his hands along Jeongguk’s back and lean forward to kiss him when they come. But their rally is going too strong, and he’s not going to be the first to drop the ball.

“You’re insufferable, Jeon Jeongguk,” Jimin breathes. “All cocky, acting like you’re the only one who can tease.” Gingerly, so as to not strain his neck, he leans over his shoulder to look at Jeongguk as he slams his hips back onto the fingers inside of him. He keeps it up until Jeongguk gives in and adds a third, and when he lays head back down he adds, “Don’t forget, baby boy. I’ve had you begging for me. And I could do it again if I wanted.” 

Jimin can hear Jeongguk’s smile in his voice when he talks. He probably looks cute for someone talking so dirty. “Oh, hyung, you look so good right now that if you wanted me to beg I’d get on my knees in an instant.” Carefully, he pulls his fingers out and swipes his thumb over Jimin’s rim, keeping up with this tendency he has of always playing with Jimin even when they’re idling. 

One hand crawling up Jimin’s back, Jeongguk leans over him yet again to whisper in Jimin’s ear, making sure that his lips touch Jimin’s skin, making sure to look down and watch the goosebumps and the patterns they form on Jimin’s body. “But I don’t think you want that,” Jeongguk murmurs. “You want my cock right now, right?” 

Jeongguk gets off of Jimin’s legs to stand, and Jimin follows him with care. He uses both hands to push Jeongguk by the shoulders to sit on the couch, and he clambers into Jeongguk’s lap even though his legs are sore. He’s definitely going to be even more achy after this, but he can’t bring himself to care. He situates himself carefully. His hard cock presses against Jeongguk’s toned abdomen, and his ass sits above Jeongguk’s erection straining in his sweats. 

He swipes a thumb on Jeongguk’s bottom lip before pushing it back his mouth for a moment, and then he comes to cup Jeongguk’s face warmly. “Oh, sweet Jeongguk. It’s really cute that you think you know what I want. Because I’m nice, I’ll ride you how you want.” 

“Nice,” Jeongguk snorts sarcastically – but he’s smiling. 

Jimin reaches between them to undo the bow of Jeongguk’s sweats, and then he rocks down in Jeongguk’s lap and kisses his neck. “Is this not nice? Would you rather me be mean? Don’t tell me you like it when I’m mean to you, baby.”

He’s speaking nonsense now, knowing that neither of them like when the other is mean, knowing that at this point, the thing he’d want to do most is lay Jeongguk down and fuck him so sweet that it feels like falling in love. 

“I don’t, hyung,” Jeongguk whispers. Again, another one of their habits arises. They set the mood to be so thrumming with want, and then they manage to break it with just a little bit of honesty. 

Jimin moves off of Jeongguk’s neck to look at him. His eyes are shiny, wide, and waiting. Cupping Jeongguk’s face with both hands, he kisses him slowly, grinding his hips down and waiting to feel Jeongguk’s hands on his waist. When he pulls back, he fights his better judgement to look away, and gazing into Jeongguk’s bright, starry eyes, Jimin whispers. “Ah, that’s what I thought.” He cards his hands through Jeongguk’s hair. “So you be sweet, and I will too, okay?” 

Jeongguk nods, gripping Jimin tighter, pulling him closer. 

“Good boy,” says Jimin. He kisses him again. “Let’s play nice, then.”  

Jeongguk blinks at him. “You’ll keep kissing me?” 

At his words, a warm rapture fills Jimin. It’s a huge rush of affection, but it washes over him more like rain than the breaking of a dam. It feels like it’s never going to stop, like it’s going to keep pouring down over him from clouds that never pass. 

As Jeongguk’s hands come to rub Jimin’s achy shoulders like he knows that Jimin still is hurting, Jimin leans forward to press the softest of kisses to Jeongguk’s cheek. “Of course, Jeongguk-ah.” He hesitates, then comes to palm Jeongguk’s cock through his sweats, fiddling with his pants. “We can do both, hm?” 

“Yeah,” Jeongguk breaths. “Okay.” 

He lowers one hand to Jimin’s ass and then leans their bodies all the way forward from the couch so he can reach for the condom on the table. He supports Jimin’s weight so easily, never once making it seem like he’d let Jimin fall. Settled back against the cushions, Jimin kisses him as he pushes his pants off of his hips, and if they get a little bit caught up in that before Jeongguk even ends up rolling on the condom or slicking up his cock, they make no mention of it.

Jimin only pulls their lips apart to sink down onto Jeongguk’s cock, but he leaves their mouths brushing so they can gasp into the space between them. They end up fucking slow again, mostly because Jimin is too tired to do anything else. They let the need for an unhurried pace guide their movements. Jeongguk keeps touching him, not treating him like he’s fragile but more like he’s worth taking care of. He continues to rub at Jimin’s back and shoulders, smooth from the oil that has now seeped into his skin, and he moves his hips in steady movements as Jimin rocks up and down on top of him. They keep kissing, too, trapping heat between their chests and mouths feeling like they have all this time even though the day is getting shorter by the minute. 

When Jimin musters up enough energy to bounce on top of Jeongguk, he watches Jeongguk’s eyes roll back into his head and his neck lean back onto the cushions. He’s a vision, lips bitten red, hair falling to either side of his part, a pretty blush warming his cheeks pink. Jimin stares before diverting his attention to kiss Jeongguk’s neck as he fucks himself on the big, hard cock inside of him. His legs and quads scream at him, but he works through it because of the way Jeongguk’s hands tighten on his waist and his exhales grow a little louder. 

They let the pleasure build up in them over time. They create tension slowly but unhesitatingly, kissing when they want to kiss, touching each other wherever they want to touch. When it becomes too much for Jimin’s muscles to keep moving, he buries his face in Jeongguk’s neck and lets himself be fucked, a pair of big hands holding him up and Jeongguk’s quick hips rocking up to meet him. 

“You okay, hyung?” Jeongguk asks softly. “Tired?” 

“Mmh,” Jimin replies, his wet tongue darting out to chase the skin of Jeongguk’s neck. “Feels good though. Like when you fuck me like this.” 

“You look good in my lap,” Jeongguk whispers to him. He reaches to find the back of Jimin’s head and pulls him up for another kiss, his other hand playing Jimin’s nipple to get him to gasp. “You gonna come soon?” he asks, dragging his hand down Jimin’s chest to work a hand over Jimin’s leaking cock. 

“Ah, not yet,” Jimin breathes against the corner of Jeongguk’s mouth. He rocks his hips into Jeongguk’s fist. “Don’t wanna come here though. If we make a mess Taehyung will kill us, and I’m not taking any chances.” 

 

mood: r u mine? – arctic monkeys 

 

Jeongguk chuckles, but before Jimin can even react, two big hands are coming beneath his thighs, just along the curve of his ass, and he’s being picked up. All Jimin can think to do is tighten his legs around Jeongguk’s waist as Jeongguk walks them down the hallway, his big cock still inside of Jimin. Jimin stays tucked into his neck, gasping as he feels the way Jeongguk’s hard length rubs inside of him, but as they turn into his bedroom, he peers over Jeongguk’s shoulder to the end of the hallway, and he wonders if Jeongguk would ever let them be intimate in his space rather than Jimin’s. 

The thought vanishes quickly, because soon he’s inside his room, being fucked against the white wooden door. It’s slow still, and Jeongguk is ever so careful, holding Jimin in place like he’s weightless. Jimin is overwhelmed by Jeongguk’s strength, incredibly turned on with the realization of how easily Jeongguk could throw him around, and the way Jeongguk talks to him makes him think that maybe their minds are on the same page. They’re both so caught up in it.

Both hands squeezing into Jimin’s ass, Jeongguk bites at Jimin’s neck to murmur in a low voice. “You wanna keep riding me?” Jeongguk starts. His voice alone is enough to make Jimin shiver, nevertheless the way his thighs are probably straining to stay fucking Jimin like this while he’s pinned up off the floor. “Or do you want me to get you on your hands and knees? If you don’t wanna make a mess on the couch, what about on your sheets, huh, hyung? Want me to make you come all over your bed? Could you come untouched?” 

He punctuates his words by fucking Jimin harder, and Jimin moans, arching off of the surface of the door and collapsing his forehead onto Jeongguks’ shoulder. He drags his nails down Jeongguk’s back. The thought of Jeongguk taking him like that, railing him from behind and touching him until he comes all over himself – it’s almost too much. He wants it, but he doesn’t think his body could handle it right now, not when just sitting in Jeongguk’s lap was a strain. 

He latches his teeth onto Jeongguk’s shoulder before he speaks, groaning, “Fuck, Jeongguk-ah. I thought you were trying to make me less sore.”

Jeongguk hooks his hands more steadily beneath Jimin and moves him toward the bed. He smirks before kissing Jimin. 

“Sorry, hyung. Wrecking you just seems like fun.” 

Jimin bites his lip. “Maybe you’re right. Just not today.” He rolls his hips down as best as he can. “Now put me down, this hurts.” 

Jeongguk lays him down almost immediately, pulling out and lowering him gently to the bed. “Sorry, Jimin-hyung,” he whispers as he crawls over Jimin to scoot him up the bed. “I’ll be more careful.” 

Jimin is about to protest that he wasn’t being that serious, but Jeongguk kisses him before he can speak, caging Jimin’s body and parting his legs all the while. He fucks Jimin carefully after that, not moving or bending his legs, just moving easily between them, rocking his hips and pumping his fist until both of them come with soft sounds into each other’s mouths. 

Jeongguk is just as careful peeling away from Jimin’s body as he was with setting him down. They breathe next to each other for a second, and Jeongguk keeps his hand on Jimin’s wrist. “You’re sure you’re okay, hyung? I really didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

“I’m fine,” replies Jimin. “You didn’t hurt me at all. I think any sort of physical movement would hurt right now.” 

Jeongguk blinks, looking a little pained. “Oh, we didn’t have to– I didn’t mean–” 

Jimin just shakes his head. “Jeongguk-ah. I wanted to.” 

Jeongguk exhales. “Okay,” he says. Then he sits up. “I’ll– I’ll be right back, okay?” 

Jimin just raises an eyebrow and stays still, watching Jeongguk’s beautiful form get up from his bed and walk out of the room. He closes his eyes and listens to fast footsteps move all over the apartment, but he doesn’t let himself panic in the midst of his afterglow. He just lays in his bed and does his best to keep replaying all the ways Jeongguk was so gentle with him over the past hour. 

Jimin sits up at the sound of Jeongguk’s return. He’s in his sweatpants again, and he has Jimin’s clothes that were left in the living room folded in his arms. He places them neatly on Jimin’s desk before sitting on the side of the bed and rubbing the warm, wet towel he got over Jimin’s abdomen, cleaning him up like he’s made a habit of doing. As he hands the towel to Jimin to clean in whatever spots he missed, Jimin can’t help but blurt, “Why is this the only time you’re nice to me?” 

Jeongguk furrows his brow, looking offended. What Jimin said isn’t even honest. Jeongguk has been doing nice things for him for weeks. He’s not sure why the only things he can think to say sometimes are so bitter, so spiteful. Maybe it’s because the sweetness stings harder when it comes right after sex. 

But Jeongguk comes back at him, and his words hold far more truth than Jimin’s did. “Why is this the only time you talk to me?” 

Jimin bites his lip and then looks away, flopping back onto his bed. He doesn’t expect Jeongguk to lay next to him. He wants to say, you know why , but it’s almost like they’re past the reason that got them fighting in the first place. It sometimes feels like they’re on a different timeline now, where the first time they met wasn’t at a bar. Sometimes it feels like Jimin is angry for no reason, and they’re now two strangers flirting with something that neither let themselves have. 

Jimin knows it’s not true. He has every right to be hurt. But all he dwells on now is that he’s less angry than he is infatuated, and avoiding speaking with Jeongguk is the only way he can stop himself falling deeper. All he knows is that despite their quarrels that sometimes feel more like banter, he can still clearly see the image of Jeongguk who is so very worth loving. 

It’s too much to try to answer Jeongguk’s question without becoming more vulnerable than he already is, naked and staring up at his ceiling. He reaches for his duvet and covers them both, waiting to see if Jeongguk will be disappointed with his silence. 

There’s a moment that’s stretched out too long before Jeongguk finally says something again. He folds one arm and puts a hand behind his head. Jimin doesn’t feel his eyes on him, so he assumes that they’re looking toward the same place. 

 

mood: onoffonoff – keshi

 

“Ah, hyung,” he starts. His free hand is twisted in the sheets. “Do you ever get nervous?” 

It’s out of the blue. Jimin wrinkles his brow, not really sure where Jeongguk is going with this. He’s amazed, though, at the way Jeongguk never stops asking him questions, even if Jimin never answers the way he probably should. It clicks just then – that it’s always Jeongguk coming to him. It seems Jimin has forged a habit of pushing away just to protect himself. 

So in a brief willingness to make himself vulnerable, he dares to engage. 

“About what?” 

Jeongguk exhales. “In general.” 

Jimin pauses, but it’s not really something he has to think about. “Yeah, I do.” 

Jeongguk moves his arm from behind his head so he can turn on his side. Jimin doesn’t turn to look at him just yet, even though he can see his watchful, curious gaze from the corner of his eye. 

“You don’t seem like a nervous person,” says Jeongguk. He says it with affection, like a compliment, but Jimin isn’t sure if it counts. They’re only ever deliberately nice when it’s like this – when they’re all vulnerable and fucked out, at night in the haze that makes everything they do together seem like an illusion. Like this is all a mere trick of the eye. Otherwise their acts of kindness are always masked by a twinge of hostility, just enough resentfulness to convince themselves that any trace of good will is covered by ill. 

Jimin shifts beneath the covers, pulling them further up his chest. “It’s not something I like to show to people,” he confesses. 

“Ah,” Jeongguk replies. “I guess that makes sense.” 

He grows quiet again, and Jimin wonders if he’s scared him off again. He stares at the ceiling and is overwhelmed by the sudden wish to see the sky. Beyond his roof there’s moonlight that’s hidden by clouds, a mass of something so big and bright that he can be sure that they both see and feel its pull. With help from the moon, maybe they could move like the tide together. 

He rolls onto his side to meet Jeongguk’s eyes. 

“Why do you ask?” 

Jeongguk blinks at him, like he’s taken aback by Jimin’s question and the face now in front of him. “Um, I don’t know,” he replies. He’s hesitating, Jimin can tell. Part of him knows it’s beyond his own power to make Jeongguk comfortable. Jimin can never tell when he’s going to be relaxed or withdrawn; sometimes he can’t tell the difference between which is which. He’s reminded again that even the tide can be violent, no matter how well they may move sometimes, the sea always has the power to separate, to eat the shore until there’s nothing left, to swallow Jimin whole until he’s drowning. 

Jeongguk continues. “Sometimes I just feel like… there’s a lot of pressure to be a certain way, or… to do things a certain way.” 

Jimin wrinkles his brow. He wants to reach out and touch, but he hesitates, then denies. Talking like this is already far beyond their usual. “Are you talking about something in particular?” he asks. 

Jeongguk bites his lip, pensive. For a second, it looks like he’s going to launch into a story, but instead he stays neutral, bobbing along like a buoy at the ocean’s discretion. “I mean. I guess not? I feel that way about everything.” He pauses, looking at Jimin with clear eyes. The bright light of Jimin’s room lets him see their true brown. “I’m not comfortable around a lot of people right away.”

Jimin lets silence take over as his thoughts move in. He thinks, were you uncomfortable around me? Then he realizes that the past doesn’t matter as much as the present moment, so he doubles down to think, Are you uncomfortable around me right now? If either were true, it would explain a lot. 

Jeongguk seems to take Jimin’s lack of response as something to make him wary, so he mumbles, “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

Jimin reaches out briefly to touch his shoulder, then withdraws immediately. “Jeongguk-ah, I asked you.”

Jeongguk blushes. “Right. Yeah. You did.” 

Jimin winces internally. Maybe Jeongguk is uncomfortable around him. 

But Jeongguk continues like there was never even a falter, opening up so honestly, blinking at Jimin with long eyelashes and a lick of the lips. “Aish, I don’t know. I just want people to like me for who I am… but I don’t always show the parts I like less.” He grimaces. “Um, that makes me sound like I don’t like myself, which isn’t true. That’s not what I mean…”

Jimin cuts him off. He curls his knees forward, and they brush against Jeongguk’s thighs. “I think I get it,” says Jimin. They’ve talked about this before, drunk, at a bar when they were caught up in each other. But it was so long ago that it feels like everything which has happened since then overrides those memories. 

Jeongguk flashes his eyes toward Jimin, and Jimin does his best to say that he can trust him without saying any words at all. He takes a breath, ghosts his hand on Jimin’s hip for a moment, and then he speaks. “I’ve been trying to make more music, because I love it so much, but I just can't let myself.” He quirks half a smile. “Namjoon-hyung said I could learn from you, since you’re so openly creative.” 

Jimin chuckles dryly. “Don’t listen to him. I’m always holding back.” 

Jeongguk chuckles back. “Yeah, well. Me too, I guess.” He pauses, letting a grin take over his face. “But weren’t you dancing when I got home?” 

Jimin grows puzzled. “How did you know?” 

Jeongguk shrugs, or does as best as he can while laying on his side with his legs pressed against Jimin’s. Jimin wonders what it would be like to tangle them together, to tuck himself into Jeongguk’s chest and hide there, even though everything he wants to hide from is exactly what he’d be holding onto. “Your clothes,” Jeongguk mumbles. “Your hair was a little sweaty. I don’t know, I could just tell.” 

Jimin blushes. “I was just messing around…” he mumbles. 

Jeongguk seems to take the lightness they’ve generated as a cue to dig deeper. “How come you don’t dance contemporary?” Jeongguk asks quietly. He takes a hand to Jimin’s forehead and tucks a stray strand of black hair behind his ear. “Is that what you were working on?” 

Jimin pauses. He could go there, if he wanted to. He could rip open his chest, reach for his heart, and lay it right here on the bed, bloody and beating and waiting to be split open. He could talk about how long he’s spent denying himself the things he loves because he’s afraid of doing them imperfectly. He could talk about dance as his first love and never committing to it for fear of breaking his own heart. He could talk about how he has this habit of giving himself just enough, chasing hip hop and pretending that that was his dream in the first place.

But talking about this would strip him bare. A conversation like this would tear down the sea wall he’s worked so hard to maintain. It would eat at his shoreline and leave him bloody in the sheets, and suddenly Jeongguk would see the truth behind all of this. Jeongguk would see the parallel, too, the way in which he has become another one of the things that Jimin has convinced himself he doesn’t deserve to have. Would he notice the way that sex is just the halfway point? Something he’s constantly telling himself is enough? 

Jeongguk would see everything. 

He’d see that Jimin has been just shy of in love since day one, and he’s given himself only some of what he wants – because sex is better than nothing. If he went there, it all would become too clear. All the while, Jeongguk is still opaque before him, cloudy and uncertain. But he doesn’t feel unloving, and that’s all the more troubling. 

“I don’t wanna talk about that,” Jimin finally replies. 

“How come?” Jeongguk asks. His hand twitches beneath the duvet, like he wants to reach out and touch Jimin again. 

“I just don’t, okay?” 

Jeongguk pouts. He knocks their knees together. “I know you’re good, hyung. Hoseokie-hyung has shown me videos of you guys.” 

Jimin wants to laugh because the work he and Hoseok do together is almost nothing like the things he would do on his own, but instead he’s just dismissive, not wanting to brush off the compliment too harshly. “Well,” Jimin mutters, “that’s different. And you don’t see me giving you shit even though I know you’re good what you do, too.” 

That seems to stop Jeongguk in his tracks, and he curls tighter onto his side. His knees draw closer to his chest, back into his shell. “Yeah,” he replies eventually. “You’re right.” 

Jimin immediately aches for him. He wants to comfort him but doesn’t know how. 

“Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin says.

“Hm?” 

He might be crossing the line, but Jimin pushes forward anyway. Jeongguk is always breaking him down. Making him do the things he wouldn’t do for anyone else. He already wants to say so much more than what his words will offer. He wants to tell Jeongguk everything he thinks about him – this vulnerable version of him especially, who wants to do well, who wants to please, who wants to be comfortable. The one with the good heart who gushes about the things he’s passionate toward and wants to make sure that everyone else around him has the chance to love those things just as hard as he does. Jimin wants that so desperately. 

“You, um–” Jimin starts. He clears his throat, prepares to embellish his truth with the hint of a lie. “You might piss me off. But… you don’t need to feel uncomfortable around me, okay? Just– you can just… be.” 

Jeongguk starts to blink furiously before he squeezes his eyes shut. “Okay, hyung,” he replies in a nervous whisper. “Whatever you say.” He exhales heavily. “Fuck.” 

He turns away from Jimin to look at the ceiling again, and Jimin looks at the little tears springing at the corner of his eye. Jimin’s chest tighten in his chest, and on impulse, he grabs Jeongguk’s wrist and squeezes, knowing that he’s giving into his own heart, the one that’s too big in his chest, that’s too soft for Jeongguk, that wants to ask Jeongguk to say more, and for him to say everything he’s thinking in return. 

He wants to pour his emotions on the bed so the two of them can just swim in it. But he can’t. He can’t do that to himself. Not when all of this is just an extension of their sex, just a fraction of their time that’s been distorted to feel like an eternity, fleeting moments of something beautiful stored in between a timeline of indignation – and the harsh reality that Jeongguk still might not want him the way Jimin wants him. 

“Jeongguk,” Jimin whispers. “It’s okay.” 

He watches Jeongguk nod faintly, but his throat looks tight even from the outside. There’s a sharp vein in his neck. 

It’s clear that Jeongguk is nervous, that he’s faltering on his words. All of that is too clear for Jimin to deny it. It makes him want to rethink so many of their conversations that he can’t afford to dwell on right now. 

He knows they’ll have time for that later. 

He eases himself out of bed and Jeongguk sits up, but Jimin decides to move wordlessly. There’s no reason for him to have to explain anything that follows. He pads across the room to turn off the light. He fumbles in his closet for a pair of briefs and a t-shirt. Then he slips back in bed and uses a guiding hand on Jeongguk’s shoulder to get him to lay down again. 

“You can stay if you want,” Jimin whispers. His heart is rapid fire in his chest, so afraid of being told no. It would feel so wrong if Jeongguk left after a conversation like this. It would crush the moment. As he shifts in his sheets, Jimin feels sure that neither of them want that. 

“Okay,” whispers Jeongguk, and he turns onto his side once again, so Jimin can hold him like he’s been dreaming of for weeks. With an arm wrapped around Jeongguk’s waist, they exchange body heat instead of words, lying awake for uncertain amounts of time, like midnight insomnia brought on by a bad dream about a lover. 

 

mood: come and see me – partynextdoor, drake

 

When Jimin wakes up, he’s alone. His first reaction is to want to throw up, but as soon as he checks the time on the clock that lives on his bedside table, he realizes that Jeongguk is already late for his class, and the spot beside him is still warm. He rolls over and finds himself overwhelmed by Jeongguk’s scent, and as he presses his face into one of his pillows, he can’t help but wonder what it would have been like if Jeongguk had woken him up to say good morning. He knows the two of them aren’t like that. But even though he’s aware that it’s the middle of the week and Jeongguk has things to do, Jimin can’t stop himself from dreaming a little bit, his mind still muddled from sleep. 

He tries not to feel too let down by the fact that Jeongguk left him in his bed again, because so many things are not the same. At the very least, Jeongguk can’t disappear completely this time – not when he’s just down the hall most of the time and has a very consistent routine of doing Jimin’s laundry. He recognizes, in that moment, curled up in his warm sheets that will never not remind him of sex and gentle hands, that he also can’t expect Jeongguk to do all of the work. If their intimacy is going to somehow start reaching beyond just sex, why should he think that Jeongguk is going to be the one reaching out first and making himself emotionally vulnerable all of the time if Jimin routinely pushes him away? It would be unfair. Yes, Jeongguk has made his own transgressions, but if they’re both going to start looking past those things to make the space to start talking about their emotions, Jimin can’t expect it to be a one way street. He might be good at holding grudges, but he’s not irrational. And he knows how much it takes to open up to someone else – especially, in his case, someone he cares about. 

Though things don’t change very much, sleeping in the same bed has somehow broken down another one of their walls, or at the very least, a section of it. Despite whatever efforts they still make to express distaste toward one another, Jimin still finds himself feeling the same way he has from the very start – wanting to be there for Jeongguk, wanting to hear him, wanting to comfort him. Jimin wants to be so sweet that it gets Jeongguk ducking his head with a pretty blush. 

For a while, they’ve had this habit of leaving the door unlocked for one another when they know the other is coming home late, but tonight when Jeongguk gets back, Jimin is still up, sitting on the couch playing games on his phone. Jeongguk doesn’t seem surprised to see him sitting there, but his face is tight as he takes off his shoes, not offering Jimin a smile or a greeting. 

Jimin puts his phone down gently next to him when he notices that Jeongguk comes to sit beside him on the couch instead of retreating into his room like he tends to do. 

Jimin shifts, bringing his legs up onto the cushion to cross them. He glances over at Jeongguk, whose knee is shaking. 

“How was your day?” Jimin asks gently. 

Jeongguk turns his head, blinking. “ You’re asking me?” 

Jimin frowns. He can tell that Jeongguk is in a bad mood, but shit, it still stings. Part of him realizes that Jeongguk must feel this way whenever he snaps at him for asking a question, but Jimin still feels more guarded now than he did a minute ago. “Why are you so surprised? Want me to take it back?” 

Jeongguk’s lip twitches, almost like he’s amused. Maybe he is. Jimin is never sure. But then he’s looking down at his hands in his lap and sighing. “It was… okay.” 

Unimpressed, Jimin replies, “I didn’t ask so you could lie to me.” 

Now, Jeongguk really does chuckle. “Okay, it sucked.” 

“Why?” Jimin presses. 

Jeongguk cocks his head, knocking their knees together on the couch. His voice airs on the side of playfulness, but his words are still serious enough for Jimin to be concerned about them. “Since when are you talking to me first? Especially about things like these.” 

Jimin wonders if all the progress they’ve made is for nothing, but whenever he thinks about it, he realizes that it’s true – Jeongguk is always engaging him first. He used to think it was just his attempt at pushing Jimin’s buttons, but Jimin isn’t even sure if that was ever his intent anymore. There’s a good chance that he just doesn’t trust his own way of speaking. Vaguely, Jimin wonders if he’s been mistaking some uncoordinated communication for provocation this whole time. He thinks back to their naked bodies laying next to each other, and the words Do you ever get nervous? ring in his head just like they rang out in the room when Jeongguk spoke them. 

Still, he can’t help the way he grows defensive, muttering, “Don’t make me regret doing it.” 

“Well, when you talk to me like that, maybe I want you to regret it,” Jeongguk replies, playfulness now forgotten. 

Jimin casts his eyes down. So much for trying. “Fuck, you’re so frustrating.” 

Jeongguk snorts. “And you’re one to talk.” 

Jimin sighs. He softens his voice again, figuring he owes Jeongguk a little more than one try, considering how many times Jimin has pushed his questions away. “So are you gonna tell me, or what?” he asks, nudging his leg. 

Jeongguk stares down at the place where their knees touch. “Maybe I don’t want to,” Jeongguk says with a pout. 

“Don’t be childish,” Jimin replies. 

“Oh, says you.” Jeongguk rolls his eyes. 

“We’re going there?” Jimin deadpans. 

Sighing, Jeongguk places one of his hands on Jimin’s knee and meets his eyes. “We’re always there, hyung. We don’t get a day without fighting at least a little bit.” 

Hypocritically, Jimin grows childish. Even though he places his hand on top of Jeongguk’s and starts to trace his fingers over his knuckle tattoos, he still quietly grumbles, “Yeah, well, who’s fault is that.” 

Jeongguk’s shoulders slump. “Are you really blaming it all on me?” he wonders. 

Jimin sighs. He wants to tangle their fingers together, to kiss and make up like people do on TV. But that would be unlike him, and the fact that he had that thought at all makes him wonder if it’s true that love makes people weak. “I could,” Jimin replies honestly. “I really, really could. But, shit. That’s not what we were supposed to be talking about. Please tell me about your day? If you want to.” 

Jeongguk worries his lip between his teeth. His expression morphs into something a little less uptight. Jimin wonders if he’s starting to sense that it’s okay for them to be more at ease. Jimin, at least, thinks it might be a nice change for them. “Just…” he mumbles. “Photo class put me in a bad mood.” 

Jimin touches Jeongguk’s little butterfly tattoo, and he cocks his head to get Jeongguk to look at him, but he fails. “That’s all?” he asks softly. 

“Yeah,” replies Jeongguk nervously. He doesn’t move his hand. “Never mind. I don’t know if I can talk about this.” 

Jimin, while disappointed, doesn’t push him. He might push him in every other way imaginable, but not with this. He’s always hated when people try to pry his feelings out of him, and he’s not about to become a hypocrite and do that to Jeongguk – who he’s not even sure trusts him. 

“Are you sure?” Jimin says, his final attempt. 

“Yeah,” replies Jeongguk. Jimin shifts his touch to the inside of Jeongguk’s wrist, smoothing over the pattern his veins make through his skin. “It’s not… It’s not you. I just don’t even know my thoughts right now. Like, I don’t– I don’t have the words to say what I’m feeling.” 

It’s the most blatantly honest thing that Jeongguk has ever said to him without a kiss before or after, and it makes Jimin’s breath catch in his throat. He tightens his grip around Jeongguk’s wrist. Looking at him with clear eyes, Jimin whispers, “It’s okay.” 

It’s his version of I’m sorry. 

A beat passes, and Jeongguk stays staring down at their laps, where their hands are still touching. Jimin tries to track his expression, but it’s unchanging. Just nervous. 

“Are you okay?” Jimin asks after a moment. 

Jeongguk just bites his lip again. His free hand twists in the fabric of his pants. 

“Jeongguk-ah…” Jimin murmurs. He knows he’s so openly expressing his concern, but he can’t help it. Jeongguk looks too upset not to try to comfort. Jimin feels Jeongguk’s pain as if it's his own. 

“It’s nothing, hyung,” mumbles Jeongguk. 

Jimin hesitates, but he slowly separates their hands to lift his small palm to Jeongguk’s shoulder, he trails his touch up Jeongguk’s neck to reach his cheek, and he begins to pet at him softly, guiding Jeongguk’s big, cloudy eyes to his own. Biting the inside of his cheek Jimin asks quietly, “Can I distract you anyway?”

As his lips form the question, Jimin realizes that he’s turning the tables completely. After all of this time, all the nights they’ve spent tangled up in each other, he’s never been the one to initiate it. Time after time, Jeongguk has always, unfailingly, come to him. 

Jeongguk’s eyes widen. His hand tightens on Jimin’s knee. “You want to?” 

Jimin shifts on the couch and brings his other hand to Jeongguk’s cheek to cup his face with both hands. His thumbs rub back and forth gently. Because he lacks self-control, he lets himself smile. Bringing their mouths closer together, Jimin’s grin grows bigger when he feels Jeongguk turn toward him and place a hand on his waist. 

“Come on, Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin breathes, their lips brushing. “You know this. You know I always want you.” 

Finally, Jeongguk smiles back. He bumps their noses together. “Right. How could I forget.” 

He grips Jimin’s thigh when they kiss and pulls him into his lap. Their mouths come together softly, because something is telling Jimin that Jeongguk wants him to be gentle. Straddling his waist, Jimin touches Jeongguk sweetly, giving him little kisses on his jaw and playing with his hair. When he scratches at Jeongguk’s scalp, he purrs into Jimin’s mouth. 

They kiss distractedly on the couch, and Jeongguk keeps his hands steady on Jimin’s waist, gripping his slowly rocking hips as their mouths meet again and again. Jimin lets himself get lost in it. He doesn’t want to rush a moment like this because they get them so rarely. Only when he feels Jeongguk getting breathless beneath him does he pull back with a kiss on the cheek. 

 

mood: pretty please – dua lipa 

 

Softly tucking Jeongguk’s messy hair behind his ears, he leans back to murmur, “Wanna move to my room?”

Jeongguk’s eyes darken. “Yeah,” he breathes. He moves his hands beneath Jimin’s thighs to go to pick him up, but Jimin swats at him before he can be lifted. 

“Yah, I can walk, you know,” he mutters, standing. 

“But you’re so fun to carry around,” Jeongguk teases. “So tiny.”

Jimin scowls at him. “I’m not that tiny.” 

Smiling all the way up to his eyes, Jeongguk stands to emphasize the centimeters that separates the tops of their heads, and then he picks up Jimin’s hand where it rests at his side. Curling his fingers over the tops of Jimin’s, Jeongguk laughs. “My hand can eat your hand, remember?”

Jimin rips his hand away like he’s been burnt, annoyed that Jeongguk would dare to bring a memory like that one, but he’s fighting a smile. Turning away, he doesn’t make it very far, because Jeongguk drapes himself over Jimin in a hug from behind to whisper in his ear. “Hyung, I like that you’re small. You’re still strong. It’s hot.” He reaches a hand to Jimin’s chest and drags it down his abdomen, stopping just shy of his waistline. “C’mon, take me to your room.” 

Jimin somehow manages to keep his scowl up, grabbing one of Jeongguk’s wrists firmly and pulling him into his room. They pause right by the foot of his bed to crash together again, kissing messily and pulling off each other’s clothes like they haven’t had sex in weeks. 

As he fiddles with Jeongguk’s belt, Jimin bites his neck. “You drive me insane, Jeon Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk just snickers. “Tell me about it, hyung.” 

Naked, they fall into bed. They slot their legs together on their sides, kissing until Jeongguk is rocking his hips furiously against Jimin’s. Laughing at his impatience, Jimin pushes Jeongguk onto his back and leans over him, trailing slow fingers down the course of his body until he reaches Jeongguk’s cock, hard against his stomach. Jimin watches his face as he touches him, just working his fist over his length haphazardly. Jeongguk’s gorgeous. His hair fans out around him. His eyes have closed, so his face is open and beautiful, full of color and painted by the vision of pleasure. Jimin’s eyes wander Jeongguk’s body too, his sculpted pecs, the line that runs down the center of his abdomen. 

Jimin sucks a bruise into his chest just because it’ll look pretty against the smoothness of his skin. 

“Look at you,” breathes Jimin. “All I’ve got to do is touch you a little bit, and you’re undone on my bed. This tight little body and your big cock here just for me.” He punctuates his words with a series of kisses along Jeongguk’s collarbones. “Some people might say I’m lucky.” 

Jeongguk chuckles a little, but it quiets into a gasp as Jimin ducks his head down, putting his mouth over Jeongguk’s cock to get him wet. Jeongguk moans as Jimin pulls his mouth away and replaces it with his hand again. He crawls back up Jeongguk’s body and turns his head with his hand to kiss him once more. 

Jeongguk bucks up into Jimin’s hand and pours pretty sounds into his mouth until he pulls away lacking breath. 

“Hyung,” he murmurs. “Will you fuck me?” 

His words catch Jimin off guard. Most of the time Jeongguk fucks Jimin as a way to keep things unspoken and routine. They don’t switch things around as often because it forces them to break their habit. They have to stop and talk, break themselves out of their heated rapture; it always makes them a little more cognizant of exactly what they’re doing. It’s always easier when they don’t have to talk about it – but more and more it feels like things are changing. 

“You want me to, baby?” Jimin asks him, petting his cheek. 

“Yeah,” Jeongguk gasps as Jimin rubs his thumb along the slit of Jeongguk’s cock, collecting the precome dribbling out and using it to slick up his length. “Need it.” 

Jimin smooths his hair. “How do you want it?” 

“Just on my back,” Jeongguk replies. 

“Are you sure?” asks Jimin, surprised. He doesn’t want it to hurt for him. Not when it’s been so long. He sits up to run a hand down Jeongguk’s body, squeezing the hand at the base of his cock. 

Jeongguk, cheeky, raises his eyebrows and licks his lips. “Just because you don’t fuck me that often doesn’t mean I don’t fuck myself, hyung.” 

“Do you?” Jimin asks, slipping a hand between Jeongguk’s legs to touch him. He parts his legs easily, hips still moving against Jimin’s fist. “When I’m right down the hall? That’s not very nice, Jeongguk-ah.” 

“Don’t wanna bother you,” Jeongguk mumbles, pushing the side of his face into the pillow. 

“Baby,” Jimin whispers, taking advantage of the exposed column of Jeongguk’s neck and kissing there. “I’d always take care of you when it comes to that. I’d let you know if you were bothering me.” 

Jeongguk snorts like he can’t help it. “Trust me, I know.” 

Jimin flicks him. “Yah, brat. Let me be sweet.” He keeps kissing Jeongguk, dragging his lips along Jeongguk’s jaw until his head tips all the way back and he’s starting to writhe against the sheets. 

“Okay,” Jeongguk acquises. “I’ll come to you for that more often.” 

“Yeah?” Jimin replies, flicking one of his nipples. “Like when hyung plays with you?” 

The finger he has between Jeongguk’s legs presses against his dry hole, not pushing in but reminding him that he’s there. 

“Yeah,” breathes Jeongguk. “A lot. Liked when you fucked me against your desk.”

Jimin smiles against his skin. “Oh, does Jeonggukie like it rough?” 

Jeongguk bites his lip and opens his shiny black eyes to stare at Jimin. “Sometimes,” he admits. “But not right now.” 

Jimin nods. “Just tell me what you want.” He drops both of his hands from Jeongguk’s body and goes to find his lube and a condom. When he comes back to the bed, Jeongguk pulls him for a kiss immediately, dying to be touched again. 

“Come on, tell me, baby,” Jimin presses. He slicks up his fingers and puts his hand between Jeongguk’s legs to tease at him again. 

“Just want you to fuck me like this,” Jeongguk says. “That’s all.” 

Jimin hums. He uses one hand to guide Jeongguk’s thick, muscular thighs further apart. He leans down to kiss him once more, and then he lingers by his ear. “There’s nothing you want first? Don’t want me to suck your cock? Touch your strong chest? Don’t want me to whisper in your ear and tell you how good you are for me? Tell me and I’ll do it, Gguk. You’ve had a long day and hyung is gonna take care of you.” 

Jeongguk gasps as Jimin keeps teasing at his hole, still not pushing in, his cock now neglected where it leaks onto his abs. “Ah, why are you being so nice?”

Jimin frowns, but he doesn’t let it break his mood. Kissing Jeongguk’s cheek he murmurs, “I said I was gonna distract you, right? It’s like you said. You insist I’m so mean to you, so let me do something nice, hmm? Let hyung make you come.” 

“Okay,” says Jeongguk.

“Okay?” asks Jimin. “Do you know what you want?” 

He starts to kiss down Jeongguk’s chest and finally slips a finger inside him to get him squirming while he talks. 

“Make me come twice,” Jeongguk mutters. 

“Fuck,” Jimin breathes. “You’re sure?” 

Jeongguk blushes. “Yes. I’ve um. Done it before. By myself.” 

“God, you’re so good,” Jimin says. He kisses Jeongguk again as he starts to move his finger inside him, loving the way Jeongguk gasps into his mouth when he crooks his finger. “Okay, baby. We can do that.” 

Jimin leaves Jeongguk’s mouth with one last peck, and then he’s moving down the bed, finger still fucking Jeongguk slowly, and he carefully settles between Jeongguk’s legs. He watches Jeongguk peer down at him with dark eyes, but they roll back into his head as soon as Jiming gets his mouth on his cock. Jeongguk is already so sensitive after Jimin touching him and playing with him for so long, so he bucks up into Jimin’s mouth immediately. With a warning hand on his hip to stay, Jimin pushes him against the bed and sucks his cock while he fingers him. 

Jeongguk is a mess beneath him, trying so hard not to push into Jimin’s mouth as he sucks on the head and crooks two fingers against his prostate. He’s noisy in a way he isn’t when he tops, letting out breathy gasps and biting his lip to try to stop them. His hands come to pet at Jimin’s hair, and Jimin accepts his touch, rolling his tongue against the length of Jeongguk’s cock. He rubs at the spot inside of Jeongguk and bobs his head at the same time, loving the way the warm, heavy length sits against his tongue. 

He doesn’t suck Jeongguk off very often. They tend to cut to the chase, so caught up in each other that they never bother to take their time with foreplay. But it’s nice to make him feel good like this, to focus solely on his orgasm by making him come undone. Jimin wishes that it was easier to look at him at the same time, because he can imagine Jeongguk’s face when he’s gasping, and the pretty blush that’s overwhelmed his cheeks and chest. It sends a thrill through Jimin to know that Jeongguk is coming apart because of him, is whining because of him, is gonna come twice all because of him. 

When Jimin pulls off and opens his eyes to get a better look at the boy beneath him, he has to remind himself that all of this is real – that Jeongguk is open and vulnerable beneath him, and that he asked for it. Jeongguk’s hair is a mess. His skin is painted pink, and he’s grown hot. Jimin has littered him in little love bites. 

He’s impatient, though, so he whines when Jimin starts to kiss at his thighs. “Hyung,” he whines. “Please.” 

“Wanna come, Gguk-ah?” 

“Yes,” he moans. 

Jimin slips a third finger inside of him, watching as Jeongguk’s hips arch off the bed before Jimin brings his cock back into his mouth. All it takes is Jimin swirling his tongue around the head before Jeongguk is gasping his name and coming into his mouth. 

He’s panting as he comes down, but Jimin keeps his fingers moving gently inside of him, crawling back up the bed to give him another kiss. He’s squirming against the bed but he licks into Jimin’s mouth, and Jimin knows he still wants more. 

“You’re okay?” Jimin asks him. “You’re sure?” 

“Yes, hyung,” Jeongguk whines. “Fuck me.” 

“Okay, baby,” Jimin replies. “You feel ready?” 

Jeongguk pushes back onto Jimin’s hand. Jimin’s fingers glide in and out of him easily, and his cock is still hard on his stomach, probably sensitive. Curious, Jimin drags the tip of his finger down the length, and Jeongguk thrashes on the bed. 

“Yes, yes, I’m ready, c’mon.” 

Jimin chuckles at him a little bit before gently easing his fingers out of Jeongguk’s hole, kissing him before he rolls the condom over his cock and slicking himself up. Between Jeongguk’s legs, he pushes in slowly, but Jeongguk is impatient, wrapping both of his arms around Jimin’s shoulders and pulling him close so that their chests are flush. He brings his own knees to his chest, presses his fingertips into Jimin’s skin, and demands, “Give me a kiss, hyung.” 

So they fuck like that, kissing, with Jeongguk’s hands keeping Jimin close. Jimin cups his face with one hand and caresses the whole length of his body with the other. They start off somewhat slow, Jimin still wanting to make sure that Jeongguk is comfortable, but as usual, Jeongguk seems to grow impatient before him. He stays noisy under Jimin, so sensitive and wanting. He whispers Jimin’s name in his ear, and Jimin replies with reminders of how good he is, how well he takes it. 

“Is this what you wanted, Jeongguk-ah? Does it feel good?” 

“Yes,” whines Jeongguk. “You’re gonna have to touch me to get me to come again.” 

“You wanna come already?” murmurs Jimin, rolling his hips against Jeongguk’s ass. He presses his thumb against the corner of Jeongguk’s mouth. “Gonna come again for hyung?” 

“Yes,” says Jeongguk. “I want it hard.” 

“Oh, there he is,” Jimin teases. “My baby who likes it rough.” 

Jeongguk just whines and pulls Jimin by the hair for a kiss, and Jimin gives it to him, fucking him hard and jerking off his sensitive cock until he come over his hand and onto his belly. 

Jeongguk shakes as he finishes, and Jimin follows soon after, collapsing on top of him. He pulls out gingerly with a series of final kisses to Jeongguk’s neck, and they lie next to each other, breathing heavily, watching the tension close back over them like storm clouds, as it always does after they come down. 

 

mood: hard to love – calvin harris, jessie reyez

 

Exhaling heavily, Jeongguk looks down at himself and wrinkles his brow. “I should shower,” he chuckles awkwardly. 

Jimin’s lip twitches as he glances over at the mess he made of Jeongguk. “Yeah, probably.”

He makes a lame attempt at sitting up and then giggles. “But I don’t know if I can move right now.”

Jimin gets up in an instant, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and chucking the condom into the garbage. “Are you okay? Let me clean you up,” he murmurs. 

Jeongguk catches his wrist before he can leave. “Hyung, it’s okay. I’m fine.”

Jimin just shakes his head at him, finding his briefs on the floor and throwing a shirt over his head. “You always do it for me,” he says on his way out. “Let me.” 

“Okay,” Jeongguk mumbles. 

Jimin comes back with a towel and wipes Jeongguk down gently, but he gets caught up in looking at him – the marks on his chest, the smooth slope of his shoulders, the sharpness of his jaw from where his cheek is pressed flat against the pillow. He counts to five on the moles littering his chest and neck. Even relaxed, he’s still muscular, but he looks soft. He looks warm. Jimin wants to lean down and kiss his neck again. He wants to tuck himself into Jeongguk’s side and fall asleep there, exchanging body heat like stories. He wonders what things Jeongguk’s body could tell him.

Jeongguk is so beautiful that it makes Jimin’s chest ache. 

Jimin clears his throat. “Jeongguk-ah,” he mumbles. 

Jeongguk blearily opens his eyes. “Hmm?” 

“Can I give you your shirt? If I have to keep looking at you like this, I might need to fuck you again.” 

Jeongguk props himself up on his forearms to look at Jimin better, which makes his abs flex. Jimin wonders if Jeongguk sees through his fib, because he’s giggling. “Oh, does hyung like me that much?”

Jimin just blushes and turns his eyes away. “Will you just get dressed already?” 

“Okay,” Jeongguk says with a grin, “but you actually need to bring me my clothes. I really don’t think I can move right now.” 

Jimin laughs at him, scooting off the bed to gather his clothes off the floor. He throws them Jeongguk’s way, averting his eyes because by now he’s memorized the way Jeongguk looks when his strong arms are above his head and he’s not sure if he can handle seeing that again right now. 

When Jeongguk flops back down, he wiggles happily. “Your bed’s pretty comfortable, hyung.” 

“Oh, are you staying?” asks Jimin, laying down next to him. 

Jeongguk’s eyes widen, and he fists his hands in his shirt. “Do you want me to leave?” 

“No, it’s okay,” Jimin murmurs softly. “Stay.” 

Now feeling a little bit exposed, Jimin crawls under the covers. He closes his eyes, so very distinctly feeling Jeongguk’s presence next to him but not knowing how to reconcile with it. He wonders how they’re supposed to break the ice that always reforms after all of their body heat is lost to the room. 

Taking a chance, he asks, “Do you feel better?” 

“Hmm?” 

“From before,” Jimin clarifies.

“Oh,” says Jeongguk. His fingers are tracing patterns in the sheets. “Yeah, I do. I wasn’t even thinking about it.” 

Jimin clears his throat. “Well, good then.” 

He tried, at least. 

“... Thanks,” says Jeongguk quietly. 

The tension is so thick that it seems to weigh on Jimin’s body, pressing into his flesh so that he sinks further into the bed. He never knows where it comes from. It always sneaks up on him – he moves freely and sees clearly until suddenly it pours into the room like morning mist. Now he can’t even picture what’s directly in front of him. 

“Sure,” Jimin replies. His voice is strained. 

“Are you sure I should stay?” Jeongguk asks quietly, timid. 

Exhausted, Jimin resigns. “Whatever you want, Jeongguk-ah.” 

“But…” starts Jeongguk. “Do you want me here?” 

Jimin bites his lip. His voice barely comes out as more than a whisper. “Yes,” he admits. 

Jeongguk lets out a breath. “Then I’ll stay.” 

He pulls the comforter closer to his chin. 

“Okay,” says Jimin.

“Okay,” Jeongguk repeats. 

The silence that unfolds afterward makes Jimin feel restless. He isn’t tired. The lights are glaring above him. Jimin wants to reach out and touch so badly, and he doesn’t even feel any shame toward that desire anymore. He just wants and wants and wants, and he knows that he’s spending more time thinking about what it would be like to have than to be bereft. Just as he’s about to slide his hand closer to Jeongguk’s side, Jeongguk finds his wrist and begins to trace up the skin of his inner arm again. 

Jimin wants to break out of his own skin. 

“Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin says suddenly. “Can I ask you something?” 

Jeongguk shifts next to him, his hand stilling on Jimin’s arm for a moment and then beginning again. “Sure.” 

It’s almost arbitrary, the way Jimin picks his question, because there are so many things about Jeongguk that he’s curious to know. Quietly, Jimin asks to the ceiling, “Why were you moving on such short notice? Back when you moved in.” 

Jeongguk rolls onto his side, and Jimin moves with him, so they can look at each other. They rarely talk like this, so freely face to face, with no real place to avoid each other’s eyes. 

“Umm, my hyung, Yoongi-hyung–”

“Oh, Namjoon-hyung’s boyfriend,” Jimin interjects with a wry smile. 

Jeongguk laughs. “Yeah. I was living with him, and our lease was up, and – you know how he’s a rapper and producer, right?” 

Jimin nods, looking down at the way Jeongguk has started to trace a pattern in his palm, seemingly subconsciously. Their brief pause lets the image of twining their fingers together cross Jimin’s mind. 

“Well,” Jeongguk continues, “he’s getting pretty big, and the place he was looking was across the river and more than I could afford. It was closer to work for him, and farther from school from me, so. Yeah. He wasn’t kicking me out or anything, he just started to get more serious career-wise.” 

It’s a fine explanation, Jimin thinks, but his voice seems reserved, like there’s more he wants to say. He’s figured they’ve crossed enough of their boundaries and broken enough of their habits tonight that he might as well keep going. 

“That’s it?” he questions softly. 

Jeongguk’s cheek twitches. He scans Jimin’s face briefly. “I mean, sort of? Hyung was kind of giving me some tough love. He was talking about how I had to go figure my shit out, make some friends closer to my age. I guess he wanted to push me out of my shell… or something like that.” Jeongguk pauses to chuckle, and it’s not awkward, it’s genuine. His smile pushes at his eyes, turning them into shiny, starry, crescent moons. A perfect picture of the night sky. “It’s funny. I was so nervous to move out. When I went out that night… the night I met you, he was the one who kind of pushed me to go. Otherwise I would’ve never gone. I don’t… go out much, usually.”

Jimin tries to give him a reassuring look. “I wouldn’t have been able to guess that you don’t. Maybe now I can tell though.” 

Jeongguk just smiles weakly. 

Jimin, bravely, questions on. 

“Why were you nervous to move out?”

Jeongguk’s eyes flash, but he answers anyway. “A lot of reasons. Meeting new people is one. Being taken from a space where I was comfortable is another. I guess I was mostly afraid that moving might make me too far removed from music that I might not do it as much, since I knew I would see Yoongi way less. So far I think that’s been true.” 

Jimin considers his words carefully, and he remembers some of the other ones Jeongguk told him the last time they talked like this, intimate, vulnerable, parallel. “Didn’t you say you’re just not allowing yourself to do it?” Jimin wonders. “You don’t need your hyungs to give you permission to make the stuff you want to make. Support is one thing, but you can do just as much on your own.” 

When Jeongguk looks at him, his eyes are shining. “You remember I said that?” 

Jimin casts his eyes away. “Well. Yeah.” He licks his lips. “I told you, I understand.” 

Jeongguk sighs. His fingers are moving less now on Jimin’s skin; his index is just running along Jimin’s lifeline. “I guess… There are just things I want to do, but I convince myself I can’t. Or shouldn’t. That I don’t know how. There are all of these feelings I try to avoid.” He drags his palm across his face. “Fuck, I don’t know. All of those things.” 

“Trust me, I get it,” Jimin whispers. He inches their faces just a little bit closer. Any more than this, their foreheads would brush. He pauses. “Jeongguk-ah… you can talk to me, you know? I mean… I don’t– I don’t care, but I’ll still listen.” 

His throat grows tight at his own words. Yes, he said them, but he’s already made it so obvious that he cares. Jeongguk already knows that much. 

“You don’t care, hyung?” Jeongguk asks softly. He’s not angry. It’s almost playful. “If you don’t care, why did you ask me those things? I know you do.” 

Ducking his head into his chest, Jimin mumbles, “I’m not supposed to care.” 

Jeongguk exhales, but he circles Jimin’s wrist with his fingers. “Right,” he says. His voice is far away. 

Jimin pulls him into his arms anyway. 

He’ll face the consequences tomorrow. 

Notes:

so,,,... there it is! almost 19k of jikook being somewhat less of a mess. i really hope you enjoyed this chapter, i'm really excited to hear all of your thoughts on it! so many of you have commented so perceptively and it makes me really happy to see what you all pick up on. as always, your comments and kudos are so so appreciated.

please stay safe and healthy my loves! social distance and wear your mask. i hope my chapters make your quarantine (if you are) a little more bearable.

if you want to see more of my works/have a conversation i'm @jkoomi!!

Chapter 5: armistice

Summary:

All of these moments become their normal, but Jimin has come to realize that not all that much has changed. They’ve just lowered their walls and let time work over them like the tide slowly changes the shape of the shoreline. This erosion has carved away their corners and turned them into something soft; it’s showing them the places where one day they might come to fit together.

Notes:

HII IM SORRY IM A LITTLE LATE BUT... it's finals season and writing papers while in quarantine is harder than one might imagine. so sorry for that but i hope this chapter makes up for it! all of you who thought there would never be fluff, you were wrong :)

also i'm sure some of you have noticed that i added a sixth chapter as i mentioned a while back, because i went to start the ending and realized chapter five was already 20k. so it has been split into two, lol.

happy reading everyone and thank you for your patience!!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

mood: way it goes – hippo campus

 

Jimin has been standing outside of Jeongguk’s door for an embarrassing amount of time, staring at his hands and trying to figure out the best way to knock. It won’t be that strange if he ends up doing it, but even after all of this time, he still approaches Jeongguk carefully. 

He’s done a poor job of facing the consequences of all this – the two of them have simply started a pattern that they’re afraid to break; they act on desire, and they both reap the benefit and accept the pain that comes from it. They slip each other favors like the actions don’t count if the other isn’t looking. It’s a front, and a poorly maintained one. At this point Jimin knows very clearly that the way he cares is sewn into his touch. He doesn’t even try to stop himself, because he’s just as sure that Jeongguk cares, too. 

The only thing that glaringly stands in their way is their origin story, and that is a subject that Jimin is still too afraid to breach. This isn’t the first time in his life that he’s failed to ask a question because the answer is too frightening. So much of what he and Jeongguk have developed into is what he’s wanted from the start. Even though they have these months of tension that still manage to cut through their good moments, their starting point has shaped their dynamic into something so different than it would have been otherwise. They’ve started to tease like old friends. They tend not to get offended like they used to, because it seems clear – at least to Jimin – that neither of them really mean it anymore. Sometimes, when they bicker, Jimin thinks they feel like lovers. 

Even if Jimin snaps at Jeongguk for playing video games in the middle of the night, Jeongguk will only resist a little. He’ll poke and prod at Jimin until he feels like he’s going to burst, and then they both crack and ease down with a smile. They trade their bluntness for a secret type of softness, and the more nights they spend next to each other, the less space there is between them. 

But tension can’t be cut without words. Most of their nights still feel like a secret. Their sex still a tresspass. Jimin feels like he’s walking in on someone’s heart without ever getting the go ahead. All he wants is to feel like he’s allowed to be loving – that he’s supposed to be loving, if this is loving at all – but they both avoid words like they’ve never spoken them before. They skip out on their feelings despite the fact that they are both so very emotional. Jimin just lets himself indulge in the moments where they coexist.

This is why he’s hesitating outside of Jeongguk’s bedroom door, missing him because they’re apart, wondering when he’ll get over his fear of falling through the cracks so he can finally break the ice. 

This wouldn’t be the first time that he’s been scared of drowning. 

He chalks up his courage eventually though, raising his fist to the door and barging in without waiting for a response. 

“Jeon Jeongguk, you’ve been in your room for hours, you have to come out,” Jimin declares loudly. 

Jeongguk turns at his desk, lowering his headphones around his neck. “What?” 

“You need to eat,” Jimin says plainly, casting his gaze away to ignore the spark in Jeongguk’s eye. 

Jeongguk licks his lips and smirks. He looks too good for someone who’s been doing homework for five hours straight, just in joggers and a t-shirt – but there's something about him. There always is. As he turns slowly to fully face Jimin in his desk chair he crosses his arms over his chest. Even through his shirt, Jimin can see his pecs. “Why do you care, hyung?” he says teasingly. 

Jimin rolls his eyes. Somehow this has turned into a game for them, and he’s not sure if he loves it or hates it. “Because if I have to listen to you making a racket in the kitchen at 2AM, I’m gonna be pissed off,” he says. He rushes forward to grab Jeongguk’s wrist and pull him out of the chair. “Now come on, we need to leave the house. We order too much take out, anyway. I’m only offering once.” 

Jeongguk shrugs after he stands, murmuring, “Okay,” with his smirk still in place. His fleeting free hand dances on Jimin’s waist before he takes his headphones off and runs a hand through his messy hair. 

Jimin drops his wrist and walks back out of the room without looking over his shoulder, knowing that Jeongguk will follow him. They move quietly down the hallway, Jeongguk close enough to Jimin that he thinks that Jeongguk might press up against his back. Putting their shoes and jackets on, Jimin continues to avoid eye contact for fear that he’ll do something stupid, like smile at him. 

Just as he gets a hand on their front door, it swings open in front of them, revealing a very happy Kim Taehyung with his boyfriend’s arm slung around his waist. 

Shit-eating grin plastered on his face, Taehyung looks Jimin up and down knowingly. “So, where are you guys going?” he asks. 

Jimin scowls at him, aware that Taehyung is teasing him without actually saying much at all. “Dinner,” Jimin replies.

Taehyung waggles his eyebrows. “Together?” 

Jimin huffs. “Clearly,” he grumbles. “We’re leaving.” 

Taehyung rolls his eyes at him. “Okay, bye, you fucking drama queen,” he quips, checking his hip against Jimin’s as he pulls Hoseok into the apartment. 

“Bye, go fuck your boyfriend,” Jimin mutters. Then he turns to Hoseok and smiles sweetly. “Good to see you, hyung.” 

Hoseok giggles at him and pinches his cheek. “Hi, my sweet Jiminie, I’ll see you later.” 

Jeongguk just blinks, so Jimin drags him by the wrist and out the door before any of them can say anything else. 

Once they’re down the stairs and outside of the building, Jimin finally lets go, and Jeongguk snickers at him. They idle by the entrance of their building, Jimin’s head slightly tilted up to look Jeongguk in the eye. “Maybe you’re the one who needs to eat, you’re all bratty.” 

Jimin sticks his tongue out at him and crosses his arms over his chest. “This is how you are all the time.” 

Jeongguk quirks an eyebrow at him, shrugging. “I just find it funny how you think you’re not as bratty as me.”

“Ha,” Jimin laughs dryly. “Hysterical. We’re both brats. Now let’s go, I want tonkatsu.” 

Jimin starts walking, and Jeongguk chuckles behind him, catching up in a few strides. His hands are in the pockets of his windbreaker, but Jimin notes the way their shoulders brush. If his hand was by his side, it would probably brush against the back of Jimin’s own. 

“I’ve never made it for you before,” Jeongguk muses happily, either totally unaware of how the way he talks about doing things for Jimin gives Jimin butterflies, or just wanting to cause them intentionally. “I probably should.” 

Jimin bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling, looking straight ahead at the busy sidewalks of their neighborhood. “Well, don’t worry about it, because now I’m buying it for you.”

Jeongguk’s face lights up, turning to look at Jimin and knocking his elbow against Jimin’s side. “ Oh , you’re paying?” 

Jimin’s face grows irritated, but he fails to fight his blush. With a scolding tone he mutters, “I am your hyung, you know.” 

“I know you are,” Jeongguk chirps happily. His smile is just a little too cheeky. 

Jimin rolls his eyes at him, another one of those fucked up things that shouldn’t be a joke but has somehow turned into one – but he’s smiling, too. 

Like much of Seoul, their apartment’s location ensures that they’re never too far away from food. Jimin leads the way, and once they’re inside the restaurant, they sit across from each other in relative silence, both sneaking glances at one another and then looking away. Jimin occupies himself by pouring them both water from the canteen the waiter sets on the table, downing his instantaneously and refilling the metal cup right after. He doesn’t know what to say, so he just opts not to speak. Things have never been so simple between them – two roommates going out to dinner together just feels so foreign. 

Even though he has a million questions to ask, none of them feel right. He stares at the little butterfly on Jeongguk’s hand instead. 

Maybe Jeongguk senses his nervousness, or maybe he wants to break the ice just as badly, but right after they order, he speaks up. “You know,” he starts, peering up at Jimin from behind his messy fringe, “we’ve never done this before.” 

“Done what?” says Jimin, cocking his head. 

“Gone out to eat together,” replies Jeongguk plainly. 

Jimin bites his lip to stifle his smile, turning his nose up. “Yeah, well. I guess my tolerance for you has gone up a little bit.”

Jeongguk licks his lips, that stupid smirk returning. It makes Jimin molten, his stomach hot and crawling. “Enough to take me out to eat sounds like more than ‘a little bit.’” 

Jimin’s face goes blank before he scowls. “Why do you always insist on testing your luck?” he chuckles. 

“I’m joking, hyung,” Jeongguk murmurs with a grin. Then shyly, he ducks his head. That sincere part of him always manages to break through, and it always happens in the most endearing of ways. “Thank you,” he mumbles. 

Jimin waits for him to look up again, holding his eyes. Even though his words are a little bit lost under his breath, he’s sure Jeongguk hears him when he says, “You’re welcome. You cook for me a lot, so… I guess it’s only fair.” 

Jeongguk looks so pretty when he smiles. 

From there, most of the meal is spent in silence. Jimin goes back and forth from being in disbelief that they’re really just enjoying each other’s quiet company out to dinner to reverting into his nervousness and allowing the tension to take over him again. When they do speak, it’s just about how good the food is or the way the girls a few tables over keep looking at them. Jimin thinks he sees Jeongguk smiling down at his rice a few times when Jimin feels bold enough to crack a joke or when he gushes about how tonkatsu is his favorite food ever, but he can’t be too sure. 

He never is, with Jeongguk. 

All he knows is that he feels like a kid again, butterflies in his stomach that he pictures to look just like the one flying on Jeongguk’s skin. 

 

☾ ☾ ☾

 

mood: canyons – barrie

 

Jimin eventually manages to suck it up and ask for studio time, but he goes alone. Nothing feels complete enough to show anyone else just yet, let alone Hoseok, whose opinion he carries to the highest standard. The itch under his skin is still simply an itch, and he knows he needs to figure out a way to fit together the pieces of his fragmented train of thought into something worth looking at. All he has now are fuzzy images, and even when he acts on them they still don’t become any clearer. 

In this room, in his solitude, he sees hundreds of himself. Surrounded by mirrors, it feels like he’s in the same place no matter which way he moves, never getting any closer or farther from his own body. As he watches himself dance, even his unpracticed moves come automatically. His contemporary training has never left his body, but even when he looks at his perfect form, the visual is foreign. 

There’s so much he wants to get out of the actions of his own body. All of these feelings have turned into a vision that he wants to morph into something physical, something tangible, a dance in the most literal of senses; yet his attempts leave him feeling somewhat hopeless. 

Part of him is blaming it on the music. Every song he plays feels wrong – bass too loud, lyrics too dissonant from his feelings, beat too quick. He tugs on his trite, boring black hair at every misstep even though it’s not his body that’s making the mistake, it’s the piece itself. Nothing can capture all the emotions he’s had since he’s gotten this urge to dance again in the first place. 

He gives up earlier than he normally would and does yoga on the floor, feeling like he wasted his studio session but not willing to give up the time that’s started to feel more precious the more he passes it unhappily. 

He comes home in somewhat of a sour mood, more frustrated than he is angry. He shucks off his coat and shoes and deposits them with his gym bag before making his way to plop on the couch. He doesn’t expect a head to pop over the counter separating the kitchenette and the living room. 

“Jimin-hyung,” Jeongguk murmurs. “Where were you?” He pauses to look at Jimin in his leggings and t-shirt. “Were you dancing?” 

“Yeah,” Jimin replies simply. 

“This late?” Jeongguk asks with a cocked head. The loose collar of shirt is hanging off of his body from where he leans over the counter, and Jimin has to stop himself from staring down it to see the elegant lines of his collarbones and the smooth planes of his chest. “You never come home this late.” Jeongguk pauses at his whistling water boiler. “I’m making tea,” he adds shyly, like it’s something he shouldn’t have either bothered telling Jimin. 

Jimin’s surprised by his questions, the way he always is whenever Jeongguk asks him something. Parts of him are still convinced that Jeongguk couldn’t care less about him even though he’s slowly learned that that’s the opposite of the truth. “Umm,” Jimin starts, “I got some studio time so I could work on something and this was the only available slot.” 

“What were you working on?” calls Jeongguk from the kitchen. 

Jimin hesitates, twisting his fingers into the throw blanket that stays on the couch. He doesn’t really have a word for it yet, and for whatever reason he doesn’t want to tell Jeongguk that he’s been practicing something contemporary. 

“Just – something I’ve been thinking about a lot,” he replies eventually. 

“Something alone?” 

“Yeah,” says Jimin softly. 

Jeongguk just hums in response, tinkering in the kitchen, probably growing tired of Jimin’s weak answers. Sensing that, Jimin tacks something on, even though it won’t further the conversation very much. “The music is off, though,” he sighs. “I don’t know. I can’t find the right song.” 

Jimin casts his eyes back to his lap, not expecting the couch to weigh down next to him and a hot cup of chamomile tea to be placed between his waiting hands. 

“Careful,” Jeongguk murmurs to him. “It’s really hot.” A beat passes and he murmurs, “Also, about your dance. I’m sure you’ll find a song. Sometimes they sneak up on you.” 

Jimin just looks at his profile carefully as he cradles his tea, for once taking a warning and opting not to burn his tongue. They lapse into their familiar silence again, and though they don’t talk, this time it doesn’t feel so quiet. It’s the whisper of lips blowing on tea and the sips that come after. It’s the rustling of fabric on the couch, the clink of porcelain on the coffee table. His heartbeat in his ears. The faintest sound of Jeongguk, placing his hand on Jimin’s knee. 

 

☾ ☾ ☾

 

mood: towers – bon iver

 

Their silence makes another appearance just a few days later, their bodies suffering from a long week apart swallowed whole by school. The quiet actually starts with Jimin alone, discovering snacks on the counter with an unsigned note topping it saying, “for studying” despite the fact that Jimin immediately knows who it’s from. He can’t even fight his smile even though the idea of Jeongguk doing sweet gestures for him still leaves him such a mixture of feelings in his stomach, so pleased that they’re happening but confused as to why. 

He pushes the thoughts away for now, grabbing one box of the Pepero and tucking the note into his pocket. He has no intention of studying right now, but what Jeongguk doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Snacks can fuel his personal creativity, too, not just his academic work. He gathers some pens and his notebook from his room and resettles on the living room floor. It’s been a long week of work, but his creativity is still pushing him, making him work despite his fruitlessness. For the first time in a long time, he’s more afraid of letting himself burn out than he is afraid of failing. 

He creates a pattern of decent sentences strung together followed by a series of crossed out ones, but at the very least, he writes. He hears Jeongguk pad in and out of the kitchen a few times, but he doesn’t look up or say anything to him. After an hour, he finally finds a flow, but it’s interrupted by the sound of feet in slippers approaching the table. 

Shyly, Jeongguk approaches him. His hair is clipped out of his eyes and he’s holding a big, leatherbound notebook to his chest. 

“Can I come sit with you?” he asks quietly. 

Jimin forces himself to not get annoyed that Jeongguk stopped his writing flow in the middle of a sentence, because he hates the apprehension he sees in Jeongguk’s eyes. Even though Jimin has worked so hard to establish that reaction in him, all he wants to do now is break it. He looks up at Jeongguk’s shiny black eyes and murmurs, “It’s your house too, Jeongguk-ah.” 

“Well, I didn’t want to bother you.” 

He speaks more honestly than he does condescendingly, though Jimin supposes he could take it either way. Maybe that’s a choice he’s always had, and he’s been choosing to make Jeongguk out to be harsher than he really is. 

“It’s okay,” says Jimin softly. “As long as you’re quiet.” 

Jeongguk nods, sitting down daintily next to Jimin and tucking his legs into his chest. He rests his back against the couch and places his notebook on the tops of his knees. 

“I will be.” 

He plucks a pen from behind his ear that Jimin hadn’t even noticed before, and even though they’d already reestablished the silence, Jimin still replies, “Thank you.” 

They work next to each other for a long time, and surprisingly, Jimin finds that he’s able to pick up where he left off despite Jeongguk cutting off his train of thought. He hears Jeongguk’s pen gliding in his notebook next to him, and it comforts him. He’s not certain how long they go, but words flow out onto the page naturally. He’s sure he’ll read it back and want to scrap half, like he always does. The words will probably end up staying folded between pages and bookends, but at least they’re down on paper.

When he takes a moment to collect his thoughts, he senses Jeongguk looking at him. He raises his head from his notebook and meets his eyes. 

“Can I ask you something?” Jeongguk murmurs softly. “You can say no if you still don’t wanna talk, but I just saw your pen was down…” 

Jimin closes his notebook with his pen between the pages and stretches his arms over his head. “Sure,” he replies. “You can ask me.” 

Jeongguk’s knee begins shaking, but he keeps looking at Jimin. “Well, I didn’t know you wrote. What do you normally write about?” 

It’s such a simple question that Jimin can’t even say he saw it coming. It’s so innocent and basic, that it reminds Jimin how much they still need to know about each other, how much Jimin has denied himself that type of knowing. He shrugs. 

“It’s more of a hobby,” Jimin chuckles timidly. “I’m no Kim Namjoon.” 

Jeongguk flashes him a smile at the mention of their hyung, and just with the sound of his name, Jimin watches the way some of the tension eases out of Jeongguk and disappears into their living room. “Still,” he replies warmly, “you make a practice of it, so it counts.” 

Jimin shrugs again, rolling his shoulders so as to distract from the warm flush that flows through him. Even though it’s barely a compliment, it still floods a sweetness into Jimin’s chest. “It’s mostly just my ideas. My thoughts. Y’know, whatever is on my mind. But honestly I’ve been struggling.” 

“And what have you been thinking about, then?” 

Skillfully hiding, Jimin teases, “Hmm… my latest piece is a list called Why Jeon Jeongguk is the Most Annoying Kid on the Planet. ” 

It’s a stupid joke, but it still makes Jeongguk laugh. He probably doesn’t realize how much irony is laced into Jimin’s response, because the reality is that Jimin has been writing about anything but that. He’s been writing about sex. He’s been writing the way hands feel when they meet his body, but mostly how he feels when they leave. He’s been writing about dance, and when it’s just right, how his body will bend like it’s in a climax. 

He’s been writing about Jeongguk. 

Chuckling, Jeongguk shoots him a glance. “But hyung, I thought you said you were struggling.” Leaning a little closer, he cocks his head. “Shouldn’t you have enough content to fill pages upon pages when it comes to that?” 

Avoiding eye contact, Jimin mumbles, “Yah, you wish my notebook was full of you.” 

Jeongguk just hums. Out of the corner of his eye, Jimin sees the slightest smile on his face. “Maybe I do.”

For once, it’s Jimin who has to hang his head with blush. He pretends to write for a few more minutes, but he winds up doodling in his notebook, his spirals blooming into flowers and attracting butterflies that feed on them. But it doesn’t take long for Jimin’s curiosity to peak, his eyes eventually drawing away from his own page to watch the messy scrawl appear on Jeongguk’s. 

“You’re writing a lot too,” Jimin says casually. 

Jeongguk shrugs, rubbing a hand on the back of his head after he sets down his pen. “I guess. More than usual.”

“Is it for music?” 

Jeongguk nods shyly. “Yeah. I’ve been working on some things,” he murmurs. He sets his notebook down on the table and crosses his legs beneath him instead of having them tucked in, and from his new position he turns to look at Jimin with big, clear eyes. He’s so open, his dimple appearing on his cheek, his eyelashes long and slow-moving. “Hey,” says Jeongguk, placing a hand on Jimin’s leg. “Can I kiss you?” 

Jimin bites his lip, dropping his hands from his notebook and into his lap. He wants so much so badly, but he’s exhausted. “Jeongguk-ah… I really am too tired to have sex right now.” 

Jeongguk just shakes his head slowly. His voice is low, soft. It washes over Jimin like moonlight. “That’s okay. I really just want to kiss you.” 

Jimin swallows. “How come?” he asks, but it’s too late. He’s already so far from even thinking of saying no. For all the things they’ve done together, kissing is when they’re closest, and all Jimin can think of is the way that Jeongguk, like he has since the very first time, always kisses Jimin with his whole body. He makes sure their skin meets just like their lips do. 

Jeongguk’s cheeks grow pink, but he raises a hand to the back of Jimin’s neck to card through his soft black hair. “I don’t know,” he admits. “You just… looked a certain way, and it made me want to.” 

He’s so earnest, touching Jimin softly, big hand warm against Jimin’s skin. “Yeah, okay,” Jimin murmurs. “Kiss me.” 

Jeongguk’s hand slides from Jimin’s neck to his jaw, and he leans in slow, fingers so soft on the skin of Jimin’s cheek. He brings their lips together gently with a tilt of his head, and he works them so easily, kissing Jimin like he’s precious, kissing Jimin like he’s telling him a story. It’s not a very long kiss, and Jeongguk doesn’t even try to push into Jimin’s mouth, he just lets them part with the pretty sound of lips meeting and then lets his hand linger before dropping it completely. 

“Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin murmurs, giggling, “you can kiss me more than once.” 

“Thought you were tired,” Jeongguk chuckles, but his hand finds its way back to Jimin’s waist, slipping under his shirt. His eyes keep flicking down to Jimin’s lips. 

Just at the mention of the words, Jimin yawns. “I am. And it’s cold.” 

“Want me to take you to bed?” Jeongguk asks. 

Jimin laughs at him. “I just told you I’m too tired for–”

Jeongguk kisses him halfway through his sentence. Jimin’s eyes flutter shut, but he’s running rampant with emotions, in disbelief of the way all of this is unfolding. “Can’t I take you to bed without us fucking?” Jeongguk asks. “Can’t I kiss you there? Better than the floor, right?” 

Unable to control himself, Jimin raises his eyebrows, thinking back to the night they met, and had it been up to Jeongguk, they would’ve fucked right here on their living room floor. “Almost forgot about how much you like the floor. Thought if it were up to you we’d never leave.” 

Jeongguk just giggles, standing and offering a hand to Jimin. “And I’ve learned how much you like your bed, hyung.” 

He uses their linked hands to wrap Jimin in a hug from behind, and then he walks Jimin all the way to his room, his grip sliding from Jimin’s hand to his wrist. They don’t even turn on the lights inside the room, the moonlight guiding them as they fall into bed. As soon as Jimin’s back hits the bed, he sighs happily.

“Fuck, I’m exhausted,” Jimin murmurs. 

“Me, too,” Jeongguk responds. He starfishes in Jimin’s bed before turning onto his side to look at him. “Do you want me to go so you can just sleep?” 

“Yah, I thought I was gonna get at least one more kiss out of you,” Jimin teases. 

“Oh, Jiminie-hyung only likes me when he gets a kiss,” Jeongguk sings. 

Jimin flushes at the affectionate name, but he pushes Jeongguk flat onto his back and crawls over him to kiss him hard. “If you want me to like you so badly, then kiss me more.”

Jeongguk laughs into his mouth. “Is that all it takes? I should never stop, then.” He kisses Jimin lightly. “But really, I don’t want to keep you up. You came home late so many nights this week.”

Jimin grows so fond just with the knowledge that Jeongguk is playing such close attention to him, and he responds without thinking. “Just kiss me for a little bit, and then we can go to sleep.” 

“You want me to stay again?” Jeongguk asks, wide eyes blinking. The rest of his sentence is lost, but Jimin knows the other half of the question. You want me to stay when we didn’t have sex? 

Jimin shrugs. “You’re the one who likes to be held,” he mutters, blowing his hair out of his eyes. A little uncomfortable, he reaches for his duvet bunched up at the bottom of his bed and pulls it over both of them, all the way up to his chin. 

“Oh,” Jeongguk says, “I see. It’s because it’s cold, right?” 

That, too , Jimin thinks. 

He kisses Jeongguk once before he replies, one hand on Jeongguk’s big chest, the other cupping his cheek. “Just do whatever you want, okay? I don’t care. Stay if you want.” 

I don’t care I don’t care I don’t care.

He doesn’t give Jeongguk any more chances to respond, no ways to quip back or try to understand any of this beyond what they already don’t know – he just kisses him until they fall asleep. 

Jeongguk slips out in the morning wordlessly, but only after he knows that Jimin is awake. But here forms another pattern, cold nights becoming code for the ordinary ones, prompting Jeongguk to linger in Jimin’s bed any time they end up there. These days, it’s more often than not. He leaves a warm spot in the sheets, just like he leaves a warm feeling on Jimin’s skin with the fleeting hand that brushes along Jimin’s hipbone before he gets up from the bed. They usually meet eyes, but Jimin never asks him to stay longer. Even when they don’t fall asleep together, sometimes Jimin still wakes up to moonlight and the sound of his rustling duvet, and then a warm body pressed up against him. 

On rarer nights, Jeongguk doesn’t fall asleep right away. He’ll work so hard not to wake Jimin up, but his hands will wander, running up and down Jimin’s sides, flat palms warm on Jimin’s shoulders. When he sees the glint of Jimin’s eyes in the light, he smiles a little sheepishly, but Jimin, drunk on midnight, memorizes the picture of him and always smiles back. Sometimes they’ll kiss for hours in the middle of the night. Other nights they go further, touching each other under the blanket and letting out strained gasps into silence, whispering into each other’s necks. 

Jimin tries to convince himself that they’re both just addicted to touch and encouraged by the cover of darkness, but he knows it’s not true. At least for himself, he knows this is so much more than having a warm body to sleep next to and someone for his skin to meet with. It’s taboo because it’s so intimate, so they leave it unspoken. Privately, Jimin is grateful that he has someone to sleep with – he’s always preferred holding someone and without Taehyung to fall asleep with like they used to back when they were younger and both single, Jeongguk is welcome. But that probably goes without saying.  

 

mood: guru – coast modern

 

For as scarce Taehyung is, he’s not absent, so of course he notices. Jimin’s friends never seem to let him get away with the things that are assuredly hurting him. 

He’s approached midday on a Sunday, when he’s sprawled on his couch and trying to do absolutely nothing other than that. Of course, he’s greeted by Taehyung sitting directly on top of his thighs. 

Sighing, Jimin shifts to make room for him, and they end up lying down horizontally on their couch, squeezed close together and faces inches apart so that Taehyung doesn’t fall off the edge. Taehyung starts petting Jimin immediately, running his fingers through his hair and pinching his cheeks. It makes Jimin suspicious, but he waits. 

“Hi, baby,” says Taehyung.

Jimin giggles at him. “Hello, couch invader.” 

“I thought you missed cuddling me?” Taehyung asks. 

“Yeah, in bed, ” Jimin replies. “Not when your freakishly long legs are taking up all the space on the couch.” 

“Jimin-ah,” Taehyung says in a teasing tone, “don’t go getting mean because you’re tiny.” 

“I’m not–” Jimin starts, but he’s cut off with a finger pressed to his mouth. He narrows his eyes, but he’s aware that Taehyung came to bug him for a reason, so might as well cut to the chase. 

“So,” Taehyung begins, wiggling on the couch and poking Jimin’s cheek, “I went to go visit Jeon Jeongguk this morning… and he wasn’t in his bed.”

Jimin turns bright red quick like clockwork, but because of their compromising position, he can’t exactly look away. “Oh… really?” 

Taehyung gives him a look. “Do you know the reason for this, Park Jimin?” 

Sheepishly, Jimin mumbles, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Taehyung bumps their foreheads together, tone calm. “Then, do you know the reason why the past three times I’ve peeked my head into your room I’ve seen you guys cuddled up together?” 

Jimin clears his throat, but his voice is still high pitched when he speaks. “The reason? Um… because it’s um… cold in the apartment?” 

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Maybe if you tried sleeping with clothes on, you wouldn’t be so cold,” he teases. 

Jimin just pouts. 

“So you guys sleep together now?” 

Jimin harrumphs. “Technically, we’ve been sleeping together for months.” 

Taehyung’s exasperated look does not waver. “Jimin-ah,” he warns. 

Sighing, Jimin pulls himself into an upright position and Taehyung follows. Hiding his face in his hands, Jimin whines, “Well? I don’t know what’s going on anymore than you do!” 

Taehyung giggles at him, elbowing his side and pulling his hands away from his face to tangle their fingers together. “Are you gonna talk about it?” Taehyung asks warmly, less chiding now. He’s genuinely worried, but he has his special Taehyung-way of going about these things. Taehyung grounds Jimin, always getting him to laugh at his own problems before trying to solve them.

It’s funny, the way his two best friends have so much in common. Taehyung and Namjoon go about things in totally different manners, but they tend to wind up with the same results. Jimin can’t help the way he gives his heart to them. They know it too well. 

“Of course not,” breathes Jimin. What else is he supposed to say? That he’ll give it a go? He’s not prepared to get rejected again, and talking about it means chancing that.

Taehyung, despite all of his jokes and bluntness, still knows how to approach Jimin softly. “You guys don’t really fight much these days,” he notes. 

Jimin shrugs, avoiding the subject. “It’s easier not to.” 

It’s not that he doesn’t want to tell Taehyung. It’s never that. It’s just that talking to Taehyung means reconciling with himself, and he’s been so content living in the in between that he’s not quite ready to confront the way things will surely crash once all of their walls come down. He’s not going to be the one to give the final blow to their steadily crumbling structure. 

“Are you sure that’s the reason?” Taehyung pushes, squeezing Jimin’s hand. His big pretty eyes are wide behind his glasses, earnest and waiting. Jimin takes the moment to study him, his patience, his beauty, the way he looks the same no matter how much he changes. 

Because Jimin has trained himself to be this way, he gets a little defensive. He doesn’t bother to raise his voice – there’s no reason to get angry at Taehyung – but he lets his frustration show. “I think I made it pretty clear that I don’t know the reason behind any of this. Like, at all.” 

Taehyung wrinkles his brow, but for whatever reason, he doesn’t push Jimin today like he might normally. “Right,” he sighs. He raises a hand to Jimin’s hair to card through it. Maybe he knows that there are some things that need to unfold at their own place. Maybe he can read Jimin’s apprehensions without asking them. Maybe he’s just tired. 

Jimin isn’t sure, but he’s grateful that the conversation stops here. 

“Good talk?” Jimin musters up weakly. 

Taehyung chuckles, pressing a kiss to Jimin’s cheek. “Always, babe. Anyway, maybe next time I can just wiggle between you guys!” 

Jimin laughs, flicking Taehyung’s thigh. “Or you could… not do that.” 

Taehyung just keeps up his giggling, flipping the switch like he always can with Jimin. “I’ll leave you guys be. But I’m glad you’re getting along better. I’m not gonna force you and it doesn’t have to be right now, but I really think you should try to talk to him for real eventually.” 

Jimin plays with Taehyung’s fingers, fidgeting in a way he very seldom does. “I know,” he says with a wistful smile. “I just… don’t know how. And I don’t want to ruin the place we’re at yet.” 

He just wants to enjoy it, if only for a little while longer. 

 

☾ ☾ ☾

 

mood: your lover – islandis

 

Jeongguk’s door is already open when he walks in, but he knocks against the doorframe anyway. “Jeongguk?” he mumbles softly. 

Jeongguk replies with his smile before his words, and it’s the smile that reaches his eyes and pulls them into half moons. “Hyung,” he murmurs. “What’s up?” 

Jimin feels a little bit less confident than he did a minute ago now that he sees Jeongguk curled on his bed in the corner of his room, sketch pad in his lap and soft lofi music playing throughout the room. He runs a hand through his hair and lingers by the door. “Um… I just wanted to ask you if you were gonna be using the TV tonight.” 

Jeongguk shakes his head. “I don’t have to, I didn’t have any plans to play with anyone.” 

He taps his pen against his page as he talks, looking at Jimin brightly, smile still making his cheeks fuller as it continues to play at his lips. 

“Oh,” Jimin mumbles. It’s the answer he wanted, but looking at Jeongguk makes him not want to leave. “Okay. I’m gonna study in the living room then. Too tired for the library.” 

Head cocked, Jeongguk asks, “Why don’t you study in your room?” 

Jimin scrunches his nose. “My desk is small and has too much stuff on it.” He cracks a smile. “And usually, when I’m near my bed I just wanna lay down.” 

Jeongguk chuckles, his warm grin beaming right at Jimin, washing over him like sunlight. Then he bites lip, eyeing his big, tidy desk. Shyly, he mumbles, “You could study in here if you want to?” 

Jimin blinks. “What?” 

Jeongguk’s smile immediately falls, big eyes widening. “I get it if you don’t, like, wanna hang out. I know we don’t always–”

“No, I do,” Jimin interrupts. He runs his hand through his hair again. “Um, I just wasn’t expecting it. Can I use your desk?” 

Jeongguk’s smile returns, and Jimin watches him wiggle happily on the bed. “Of course, hyung.”

Jimin smiles back, shifting in the doorway. “I’ll be right back?” His words lilt like a question even though it isn’t one, and then he bolts away, trying to contain himself as he goes to gather his stuff. He wills his heart rate down once he’s in his bedroom, looking in the mirror and studying his reflection. He looks good. He’s in a striped scoop neck that shows off his collarbones and the pretty pendant of his necklace that rests between them. His hair is still soft from when he blew it dry this morning, but it’s just tousled enough from how much he’s been touching it.

He stops in the kitchen to get them some snacks, and then he returns to Jeongguk’s room, throwing him a bag of chips and dumping the rest of his things onto Jeongguk’s desk. It’s a little bit awkward when he sits down in the big gamer chair, and he looks around the room that’s still mostly unfamiliar to him. He meets Jeongguk’s eyes where he sits on the bed, and Jeongguk smiles at him before turning back to his sketchbook like it’s only natural that Jimin is here working in his room. Part of Jimin feels like he should get up and kiss him, to go sit with him in bed first, to just give up on studying and have him explain every single photo in the collage taped on his wall. 

Instead he watches Jeongguk draw for a moment, his tongue poking out and his hair flopping into his eyes. Jimin stares until he catches himself, and he tears his eyes away hoping his gaze wasn’t too strong. Once he gets himself settled (which requires using the lever to make Jeongguk’s chair a little higher off the ground), their comfortable silence pools around them again. Jimin is actually able to focus much better than he thought he would, the music more relaxing than it is disturbing, Jeongguk’s presence more of a comfort than it is a bother. 

Jimin forces himself to keep working, but Jeongguk has this way of making studying seem unimportant. He gets up to stretch a couple of times, and he catches Jeongguk looking at him each time he stands. Once, Jimin dares to smile at him, even though he grows a little shy when he notices Jeongguk’s eyes are trained on the small strip of exposed skin that appears between his shirt and joggers when he lifts his arms over his head. During another break, as he taps on his phone, he feels Jeongguk’s gaze yet again even though he’s not standing or stretching this time. He’s just curled up in the game chair, bare feet dangling off the edge from where his knees are tucked to his chest. 

As he turns to look at Jeongguk, Jimin notices his big eyes jump repeatedly from the page back to Jimin, and his right hand works furiously. 

Amused, Jimin lets himself smile as he talks slowly, “Jeongguk-ah,” he murmurs, “are you drawing me?”

Jeongguk blushes, dropping his pen. “Um…” 

“Oh my god,” Jimin says happily. “You are.” 

Jeongguk sheepishly closes his notebook, looking at Jimin with an abashed expression. “Sorry, hyung. If it bothers you, I can throw it out.” 

“What, no,” Jimin mutters, getting up from the chair and crawling next to Jeongguk on the bed. “Let me see.” 

Jeongguk’s blush only intensifies when Jimin sits so close, their thighs and arms pressed together with their backs against the wall. He picks up his sketchbook again and holds it to his chest. “It’s just fun, silly stuff. Nothing impressive.” 

Jimin offers him a soft smile, touching his wrist before pulling away. “I still wanna see it, if you’re okay with it.” 

“Fine,” Jeongguk huffs. His long, tattooed fingers carefully flip through pages that Jimin only gets to catch glimpses of – he sees a brief array of styles, from hand lettering to detailed sketches to pen and ink manga. Jimin didn’t even know that he draws. That’s the thing about Jeongguk: he’s always surprising Jimin. Although, at this point, the one thing that’s not surprising is that it seems he seems to be good at everything. Except, maybe, telling Jimin how he feels – but Jimin’s no hypocrite.

When he finally settles on the right page, Jimin giggles immediately. Jeongguk has a sheet full of cartoonish Jimins, with big lips and big cheeks, cute eyes and dark hair. They’re adorable, surrounded by flowers and butterflies and sweet words written in bubbly fonts. Jimin lets his laughter pour out of him, and it takes over his body. He falls over onto Jeongguk’s lap, giggling furiously as he looks up at Jeongguk’s red, shyly smiling face. 

“Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin finally manages when he sits back up, “they’re so cute!” 

“Ah, they’re nothing,” Jeongguk mutters, gently closing his sketchbook and setting it next to him. “I was just… bored, and you were there, so…”

Jimin flutters his eyelashes. “Am I pretty enough to be a model? Are you drawing me like one of your French girls?” He gasps teasingly. “Is this seduction?”

It’s so playful, but neither of them even hesitate. Elbowing Jimin’s side, Jeongguk teases, “Are you saying that me drawing cartoons of you is sexy?”

Jimin laughs again. “Well, maybe just the fact that you draw.” He eyes Jeongguk’s closed notebook. “You’re good.”

Jeongguk blushes again, but he keeps up the banter anyway, the way he does when he’s feeling confident, which tells Jimin that he’s comfortable. “Is hyung complimenting me? Maybe you’re the one seducing me.” 

Jimin licks his lips, and then he remembers where they are, and he has no idea why he’s holding back. Running a hand through his hair, he comes onto his knees and places himself into Jeongguk’s lap. He traces a hand down Jeongguk’s chest, and when he speaks, it’s just centimeters away from Jeongguk’s lips. “Is that all it takes, Jeongguk-ah? A little praise?” 

Jeongguk blushes again, lowering his eyes to Jimin’s lips and bringing his hands to Jimin’s waist. 

Having fun with the light mood they’ve established, Jimin raises a hand to Jeongguk’s face and brushes his thumb back and forth over his cheek. “Ah, that blush. You’re right. Maybe I am seducing you.” 

His words make Jeongguk smile, so Jimin kisses him. He pushes further into Jeongguk’s lap and moves the hand on his face into his hair to card through it gently. Immediately, Jeongguk starts to make little noises against Jimin’s lips, growing breathy and trying to pull him closer. Jimin kisses him sweetly, but Jeongguk seems to be impatient. Maybe it’s been a while since they’ve had sex, Jimin can’t even remember. He takes the cue regardless. He rocks down into Jeongguk’s lap, feeling his strong thighs beneath his own as he pushes his tongue past Jeongguk’s lips to swallow the sounds he makes. 

Only after he’s been kissed for a little while does Jeongguk start to let his hands wander. They move upward from Jimin’s hips, fingers sneaking beneath Jimin’s shirt to trace gently up to his shoulders. If Jimin’s back is a river, Jeongguk’s touch forms estuaries all over his shoulders and sides, branching out and around until he reaches Jimin’s chest, his nipples, the waistband of his briefs. 

“Hyung,” Jeongguk breathes once Jimin moves his mouth down Jeongguk’s neck. “You’re so hot. I know I always say it, but I really like you on top of me.” 

“I’ll stay here then,” murmurs Jimin into the skin of Jeongguk’s collarbone. He sucks a bite there, listening as Jeongguk whines beneath him and moves his hands to grip Jimin’s ass. “Are you gonna fuck me, baby? S’been a while. You’ve been so busy.” 

Jeongguk inhales sharply, reaching his hands into Jimin’s pants to touch him beneath his clothes. Squeezing lightly and tipping his head back so Jimin can kiss down the column of his throat, he whines again. “Um, hyung. This is kind of… embarrassing.” 

“What,” Jimin says against his neck, leaving a wet kiss there. “You turning me down or something?” 

Jeongguk stills beneath him and puts a hand beneath Jimin’s chin to lift him away with his neck. With a firm hand on Jimin’s jaw, he pulls him into a deep kiss. “Jimin-hyung,” Jeongguk says with a breathy voice, rocking his hips up so that his half-hard cock rubs along the swell of Jimin’s ass, “you’re so hot, I don’t think I could ever turn you down.”

“Aish, kid,” Jimin says against Jeongguk’s lips, reaching a hand underneath Jeongguk’s tee to wander the planes of his abs and flick across one of his hardened nipples. “Just because you’re not at my throat every minute, doesn’t mean you’ve gotta be like this.

Jeongguk chuckles before kissing him again. “Don’t like when I compliment you? I was just–”

Jimin cuts him off with a thumb brushing across his lower lip. “Baby, you’re getting sidetracked. What were you gonna say?”

Jeongguk squirms beneath him, pushing his face into Jimin’s neck. “I kind of? Um… I need to shower.” 

Jimin giggles. Jeongguk is always so sweet and honest when he gets like this. He drips honey onto Jimin’s skin just to lick it up again. He’s warm against Jimin’s touch. He never wants to be anything less than perfect – but maybe that’s in both of their natures. “Why are you embarrassed of that?” Jimin asks, petting Jeongguk’s head until he looks at him. 

“I dunno,” Jeongguk mumbles. “Didn’t wanna ruin the moment. I went to the gym earlier and didn’t cool down enough, so even after I showered there I kept sweating. I meant to shower again when I got home but… I’m lazy.” 

Jimin, so fond, kisses him again. Jeongguk seems surprised by it, making a muffled sound into his mouth and then coming to stroke along the back of Jimin’s neck. “Seriously,” Jimin says when he pulls back, “I’m such a good roommate. I already wake you up for school and take you out for dinner when you forget to eat. Do I have to start telling you to wash up before bed, too?”

“Shut up,” Jeongguk whines, pouting. 

Jimin just laughs at him, punching his shoulder lightly. “Go shower,” he mutters, reluctantly swinging his leg over Jeongguk’s lap. He lingers on his knees, a little bit sad to break the moment, but confident that it’ll begin again. Both hands on Jeongguk’s shoulders he leans in to kiss him one more time, then brushes his lips against his ear before he whispers, “If you wanna fuck me, I’ll be in my room.” 

Jeongguk simply inhales sharply, and he watches Jimin go. 

 

mood: on my mind – jorja smith, preditah

 

Jimin closes Jeongguk’s door quietly behind him after he gathers his things from the desk, and then he flees down the hallway, chucking his stuff down as soon as he’s in his room and trying to calm his breathing. His cock is half hard in his joggers, and he thinks about what to do to keep himself occupied until Jeongguk showers. Jeongguk tends to take his sweet time, but Jimin wonders if he’s enough to get him to hurry. It’s been a couple more days than usual that they’ve had sex, and Jimin gets a rush at the thought of it. He wants to make it good for Jeongguk. He wants Jeongguk to gasp above him. He wants Jeongguk to lose control – to fuck Jimin so well against his sheets that he’d never even be able to fathom leaving after. 

After thinking it over again, he figures he can’t count on Jeongguk rushing, so he gets an idea of how to pass the time. It’s been a while since he’s used it – hasn’t had to – but as soon as the vision of Jeongguk walking into his room to see him like this enters his mind, he can’t let it go. 

His heart picks up in his chest with anticipation as he gets on his knees to peer beneath his bed. In one of his storage boxes there’s a sleek, baby blue vibrator that used to see a lot more use when Jimin was insistent that most men weren’t good enough to fuck him and before he had a roommate notorious for sneaking into his bed. Exhaling heavily as he picks it up, he runs his fingers over the smoothness of it and gets lost in the idea of Jeongguk being the one to fuck it in and out of him instead of himself. 

He tosses it onto the bed when he stands, grabs lube and condoms, and then shucks off his pants and briefs. He leaves his shirt on only because he likes the way Jeongguk takes it off of him. His soft sheets feel good on his bare skin, but the feeling of them only makes him think of the feeling of Jeongguk, and the way his hands always trace every part of Jimin’s body. He focuses on that thought – the thought of Jeongguk’s touch – as he takes his cock into his hand to stroke himself a few times. He lets his eyes close, the anticipation of Jeongguk finding him like this filling his entire body. He curls his toes into the mattress as a gasp escapes him, more from the idea of being discovered than the physical feeling of his own hand touching himself. 

He rolls his body over to finger himself, his ass up and facing the door, face pressed into the softness of his pillowcase. He knows he’ll probably turn onto his back to use the vibrator, but for a second, his own imagination gets to him, thinking of what Jeongguk would do if he found Jimin like this – face out of sight, ass up on his bed, dry fingers teasing his own hole. Already, Jimin’s thoughts are making it so that he’s only one exhale away from breathing Jeongguk’s name. His breath hitches, and suddenly he can’t take the way he’s teasing himself. 

He slicks up his fingers and reaches behind himself, thinking of how long it’s been since he’s had to do this alone. He never has to finger himself anymore – if he wants to get fucked, Jeongguk is rarely further than two doors away, and he always, always wants Jimin. He doesn’t go very slow, stretching himself as best he can with his short fingers and missing the way Jeongguk’s long ones curl inside of him. He lets out warm breaths into the dampening fabric of his pillow and reaches his other hand under himself to tweak at his nipples. He’s mostly quiet, breathy as he works his way up to the third finger and scissors them inside of himself. He probably does a little bit of a rush job, but he doesn’t care. A decent amount of time has already passed, and he wants something inside of him. He wants Jeongguk to find him that way.

He bites his lip when he pulls his fingers out and sits up on his haunches to slick up his vibrator. Just when he’s about to roll onto his back and pull his knees up to his chest to fuck himself like that, the idea of facing away from the door when it opens takes over him. He doesn’t want to be able to see when Jeongguk comes in. He wants to be found like that, ass up, presented for Jeongguk to come take, breathing moans into his sheets and waiting to be fucked. He wants it so badly that the thought alone makes him moan. 

He uses his slick fingers to work his hand over his cock a few times, hips bucking up into his own touch before he collapses back onto his forearms. Vibrator in hand, he reaches around himself and teases it against his hole. He’s still tight, but it’s so wet that it doesn’t take much to push it inside of himself. He leaves the vibrator off for now, and he starts off slow, fucking just the first couple of centimeters in and out of himself. It doesn’t take long to get used to the stretch, but he wants to make himself want it. He wants to be desperate. He wants to be a mess in the sheets by the time Jeongguk walks in here. He wants so much, and every scenario ends with his skin against Jeongguk’s skin and a trail of kisses bound to be pressed all over his body. 

The angle isn’t perfect, but just having something inside of him is enough for now. As he tries to work his wrist to get at his prostate, he whines, wishing Jeongguk were here to do it for him. His hard cock hangs heavy between his legs, and he’s tempted to straighten out his knees just to rub off against the sheets, but he knows he needs to wait, needs Jeongguk to be the one to make him come. He pushes his face further into the sheets and decides the least he can do is use the toy for its purpose. His shirt is bunched up by his shoulders now from the angle of his back, exposing the plane of his skin to the room.

The next time he has the toy all the way inside of himself, he switches it on the lowest setting, and immediately he cries out. What he can’t manage from the awkwardness of using his own arm to fuck himself is immediately made up for by the vibrations. It pulses through his whole body, making his cock twitch and drip onto the sheets beneath him. He’d forgotten how good this feels, how desperate he becomes, the way – just from the help of a pretty blue toy – he can make a mess of himself. 

His arm is starting to tense up, but he doesn’t stop, still fucking himself slowly with the lighty vibrating toy inside of him. He pushes his hips back as if someone is behind him to fuck deeper into him and moans brokenly when he realizes that he’s still alone, that Jeongguk isn’t here yet to take the toy from his grip and use his own strong hands to work it in and out of Jimin instead. Frustrated, he starts to fuck himself harder, and without even realizing it, he starts talking, mumbling into his sheets, “Fuck, Gguk-ah, I need you. Need you to fuck me.” 

He gets so caught up in it, working his arm behind himself and words streaming out of his mouth, that he doesn’t even hear the sound of the door opening. All he registers is Jeongguk’s low voice murmur, “Fuck, hyung.” 

“Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin whines. “Finally.” 

Jeongguk laughs, but his voice is breathy. Jimin, one hand still holding the toy inside of himself, vibrating all the while, turns over his shoulder to look at him. Jeongguk has only made it a few steps into the room, and his pupils are blown wide. He’s dressed in fresh lounge clothes, hair dripping onto his shoulders, and he keeps licking his lips. 

“Fuck, why did you even bother to get redressed,” Jimin whines. 

“S–shit, sorry, I didn’t expect–” Jeongguk mutters. 

“Shh, just come here,” Jimin moans. Jeongguk listens right away, peeling his shirt over his head and throwing it somewhere on the floor. He clambers onto the bed, perching up on his knees and getting his hands on Jimin as soon as he can. With a gentle touch he runs his hand up and down Jimin’s back, and Jimin can hear the way his breathing has increased already. “Thought about you fucking me with this the whole time.” 

“I didn’t know you like toys, hyung,” Jeongguk says, but he seems distracted. Jimin has dropped his head between his arms again, so he can’t see where Jeongguk is looking, but as soon as he feels a finger tracing along his hole where the vibrator still pulses inside of him, he can imagine a thing or two. 

“I don’t need them as much,” Jimin musters, “now that I have you.” 

“You want me to fuck you still?” Jeongguk mumbles, moving behind Jimin to lean over his back. He leaves soft kisses on Jimin’s spine between his heavy breaths, pushing Jimin’s shirt further up toward his shoulders and leaving one more lingering kiss to the base of Jimin’s neck. “Or do you want me to use your toy? Play with you a little bit? It’s a pretty color, hyung. Suits you.” 

Jimin pushes his face into his pillow to stifle his whine. “Whatever Jeonggukie wants.” 

He’s trying so hard not to start rocking back against the vibrator or reach for his cock, but he needs some kind of stimulation soon or he thinks he might break. 

“I think hyung should decide,” Jeongguk says. Jimin can feel him moving on the bed, and a moment later, there are kisses being dropped to his shoulders and a gentle voice by his ear asking, “Can you turn over for me?” 

Jimin nods even though it’s a question that can be answered just with his actions. He reaches for the vibrator and pulls it out of himself before turning onto his back, sprawled out onto the sheets and his hard cock coming to rest against his belly. Jeongguk’s hands take hold of the hem of his shirt and he pulls it up and over Jimin’s head, his touch lingering at the vee of Jimin’s hips after it's off. 

“That’s it,” Jeongguk murmurs, taking the vibrator from Jimin’s grip and spreading Jimin’s legs with his other hand. He pulls one of Jimin’s knees toward his face. “Can’t believe you fucked yourself with this while I was in the shower. Couldn’t wait?” 

He’s still on the upper part of the bed, his mouth drawing pathways along Jimin’s chest and shoulders, but his hand has wandered between Jimin’s legs and has begun to tease the vibrator at Jimin’s entrance. 

“Nope,” Jimin breathes. “Wanted you and didn’t wanna wait.” 

Jeongguk chuckles. “I guess that’s fair.” He flicks the vibrator up to the next setting and pushes it past Jimin’s rim, making his arch back immediately. “Fuck, you’re still so tight. You’re ridiculous.” 

“Just–  fuck me, Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin whines. He feels more exposed on his front, sure his mouth and cheeks are red and that his hair is a mess. But he can feel Jeongguk’s eyes on him, and it calms him down to see the way they trace over the lines of his abdomen and linger on his lips. Whenever he meets Jimin’s eyes, if he’s not smirking, he’s smiling. 

“You didn’t answer me though, hyung,” says Jeongguk, moving the toy in and out of Jimin slowly. He’s drawn his mouth down to Jimin’s ear to speak directly into it, knowing Jimin will shudder. One hand gripping the vibrator and the other coming to play with Jimin’s nipple, he murmurs, “Do you want me to fuck you with your cute little toy or do you want my cock?” 

Jimin moans loudly, and at his words, he grabs Jeongguk by the back of the neck and drags him into a deep kiss. Jeongguk’s palm immediately leaves his chest to cup his face softly, letting Jimin lick into his mouth and drawing back with their noses brushing against each other. He smiles down at Jimin, saying, “Hmm?” 

“I want you,” Jimin breathes. He licks his lips. “Please.” 

Jeongguk’s eyes flash at his words, and then he kisses Jimin again. “Say it one more time, then I’ll fuck you.” 

“Say what, baby?” ask Jimin. 

“Say you want me,” Jeongguk murmurs, twisting his wrist to press the vibrator against Jimin’s prostate. 

Jimin cries out, clenching around the toy and pushing his face further into Jeongguk’s hand. “Don’t you know by now?” Jimin mumbles. He runs his mouth along the palm of Jeongguk’s hand and then blinks up at him, lips parted. “Jeongguk-ah, I want you. Want you all the time.” 

Jeongguk searches Jimin’s eyes as if looking for the truth, and then he presses one more kiss to Jimin’s lips as he gently eases the toy out of his hole. “Yeah,” he says on an exhale. “I want you, too. Want you always.”

Gguk,” Jimin cries as Jeongguk moves down the bed and replaces the vibrator with three of his fingers, his hole still slick enough from what he used to loosen himself up. 

“I got you, hyung,” Jeongguk replies, spreading Jimin’s legs further and settling between them. “Gonna make you feel good, okay?” 

“You always do.” 

Maybe Jimin is so overwhelmed because he’s sensitive right now, already raw from the way he fucked himself in wait. Maybe it’s because it’s been a few days since they’ve been close like this. Maybe it’s because all of this speaks to something bigger, the way Jimin wants Jeongguk all the time. But the feeling has taken over his body, and it draws him closer to Jeongguk. It makes him want to be honest. 

As Jeongguk strips, rolls a condom on, and slicks up his cock, Jimin finds himself unable to be away from his touch. Too nervous to think of tangling their hands, he grasps at Jeongguk’s wrist and grips his forearm tightly until Jeongguk leans over him. He feels Jeongguk’s rapid pulse beneath his skin and wonders if their hearts are racing at the same rate. 

Jimin is forced to let go of Jeongguk’s arm as he pushes in because he grips Jimin’s thighs to hold his legs open. As if he knows that Jimin wants to be close, Jeongguk fucks him with his face buried in Jimin’s neck and his strong arms caging Jimin’s shoulders. Jimin whines beneath him, uncaring of how loud he is or how desperate he sounds. He just wants so much so badly, and he lets himself feel that desire. He lets himself cry out for it. He hears Jeongguk murmuring to him by his ear, caressing the side of his head and pressing kisses to his jaw. He says things like, “Hyung, you sound so good, feel so good,” but Jimin can barely keep track of his words. 

All he hears is the sound of Jeongguk’s voice, and that’s enough. 

Jeongguk fucks him in opposites, knowing that Jimin needs everything all at once. His soft words contrast the way his mouth bites bruises all over the soft skin of Jimin’s neck and chest. His hips work quickly, fucking Jimin hard, getting him moaning beneath him, but his hands stay gentle on Jimin’s thighs, tracing gently up and down his skin. It all happens so fast, but time seems to relax around them, smoothing and slowing until it feels like the moment itself has almost come to a pause. Jimin feels fixed here, enveloped by everything he feels for Jeongguk and every sensation that overtakes his body at the feeling of Jeongguk’s touch. 

It’s messy and imperfect and rushed, but it’s the kind of euphoria that wins over any momentary flaws. It erases the things that are awry, replacing them with the sound of Jeongguk saying Jimin’s name and the feeling of his tongue laving over the bites he leaves behind Jimin’s ear. Jimin scratches his hands down Jeongguk’s back and runs his fingers through slowly drying hair. 

 

mood: after the storm – kali uchis, tyler, the creator, bootsy collins

 

Of course it ends eventually, with Jeongguk kissing Jimin as he jerks him off. He comes hard, shooting all the way up his chest, and he continues to whine and thrash until Jeongguk finishes, too, holding Jimin by the hips and fucking him until he reaches his orgasm. They fall apart in the same way they come together, and as Jeongguk comes down, he just lets himself go, collapsing onto Jimin and burying his face into Jimin’s neck. 

Their breath relaxes over time, but they stay there, only moving with the smallest touches of fingertips on skin as if they are both afraid to break the moment. Jimin doesn’t even care how sticky they are, sweat and come between their bodies. He just reaches his arms from where they were lifeless on the bed and wraps them around Jeongguk in a hug. Jeongguk mouths kisses against the column of Jimin’s neck; Jimin replies with idle lips on Jeongguk’s shoulders. 

Just like that, laying there, they stop time. Or at least it feels like they do, either because of how quickly Jimin’s thoughts go or how still and slow the air seems around them. Jimin is only able to pick apart what has happened because of the weight of Jeongguk on top of him and the way the softness of his skin feels so very real. It grounds him. Jimin didn’t begin his evening thinking he would spend a few hours in Jeongguk’s room. He couldn’t have foreseen the way they went from perfect silence transitioning to a playful laughter that blended into their own special type of intimacy. He couldn’t have even imagined it, because this thing – this relationship – that he and Jeongguk have built is so beyond his own expectations. 

Yet here they lay, exchanging body heat and breath through the touch of lips to skin, and it feels like they’ve made something. They feel… a little less fucked up. 

Frankly, Jimin feels that this is proof – that they can laugh together. That there’s something more here than just a messy coexistence followed by sex, no matter how good the sex may be. The sex might even be better because it’s layered with their emotions. Jeongguk feels… Jeongguk feels like a friend . In the way Jimin would want his lover to be a friend. Someone who he can talk to, and talk sincerely. Who he can stare at, and who he sometimes catches staring back. Someone who he can tease, who he’s allowed to laugh with without second thought. Someone who he wants to work for. Someone he can feel like he wants just for the sake of wanting him, and feeling like he’s wanted back. Someone who leaves such a raw feeling on Jimin’s skin that it stays there long after lips and hands have left Jimin’s body. 

For a second, just in each other’s company, Jimin feels like he’s allowed to have this.

They stay like that until their unbreakable moment finally shatters, but it comes undone so beautifully by the sound of Jeongguk’s muffled giggles and the heaviness of his weight shaking from light laughter. 

“We’re gross,” he says. 

Jimin laughs too. “Yeah, we are.” 

He can hear Jeongguk’s grin in his voice, and he wonders if Jeongguk can feel the way Jimin’s lips stretch into his own smile just from the way they move against the skin of his shoulder. 

“I think I need to shower again, ” Jeongguk giggles, lifting himself up and pulling out of Jimin gingerly. He promptly flops next to him and starts to trace in and out of Jimin’s knuckles like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. 

“You probably do,” Jimin chuckles. He rolls onto his side to look at him. “Your hair dried so funny.” He reaches his small hand to card through the fluffy mop on Jeongguk’s head. 

“Because you kept touching it,” Jeongguk whines. 

Jimin shrugs. “Oh, well,” he mumbles, but he looks away because of how cute Jeongguk is, all tangled up in his bed. 

Jeongguk sits up and grabs Jimin’s wrist, pulling him along. “Come on,” he says. 

Jimin follows, but he cocks his head. “Where are we going?” 

Jeongguk scoots to the edge of the bed and wraps a strong arm around Jimin’s waist to drag him there, too. “To shower, come on, come with me.” 

Jimin hesitates even though he wants to say yes. Despite all he’s unwound about his own emotions in the past few hours, he still wonders, isn’t that pushing it? Too intimate? He thinks about that bathroom, where so much of their conflicts started, and then he looks down at the way Jeongguk’s hand is rubbing up and down his obliques, and up again at his pretty eyes and red pout. Jeongguk doesn’t seem hesitant, or even nervous. He doesn’t look like he’s thinking about anything beyond this moment and the way he wants to be in it. Jimin wishes he could feel that way, too, free of his worries even if just for a little while. Still, he lets his apprehensions show because he still hasn’t figured out how to rid himself of them. He’s not sure that he can do that without talking about them. They’re in this never ending state of limbo that will only be grounded with words. 

“Are you sure?”

Jeongguk just giggles some more, pinching his side. “Hyung, I see you naked all the time! I’m sure you look just as good when you’re wet.”

He does a poor job of winking, and Jimin shoves at him playfully, making sure it does nothing to actually make Jeongguk stop touching him. He’s all easy-going and languid post-sex, smiling at Jimin every moment he gets, shaking his fluffy mess of hair out of his eyes. Jimin feels so full of affection for him that he doesn’t even know how to process the thoughts, let alone speak them. He settles for keeping a few of his walls up instead, for fear of his dam breaking and causing him to say something he’s unable to override. 

“Fine,” Jimin concedes, as if it’s troublesome to go see Jeongguk’s beautiful body glistening in soap and water. “But we’re not having sex again.” 

Jeongguk pouts further. “At least let me eat you out?” 

Jimin gapes. This fucking kid. “In the shower?” 

“Yeah,” says Jeongguk casually. 

“I don’t know how long you think my refractory period is, but I just came a lot–” 

Jeongguk cuts him off with a kiss. He stands, and he pulls Jimin with him. The two of them stand naked and messy in the middle of Jimin’s bedroom, and they speak with their lips brushing, like they’re two poles unable to draw apart. It makes sense, to think of them that way. Sometimes, the force is so strong that it’s violent when they meet. Jimin wants to learn how to ease them into something gentle, pieces that fit together instead of crash. 

“Shh, hyung. Let’s just go. Let me take care of you. It doesn’t even matter if we fuck again or not,” Jeongguk murmurs, pressing another kiss to the corner of Jimin’s mouth. 

Holding back a smile, he huffs again, “Fine,” but he can’t even begin to think of how to make himself sound reluctant. 

 

☾ ☾ ☾

 

Jimin’s not sure if he loves Jeongguk. He’s not sure if that’s the word he can use for it, because even though sometimes he pictures love to feel like this, he’s never imagined that if he were truly in love he would be afraid to say it. What he has realized, though, is that even if it’s not love – if it’s not allowed to be love, or supposed to be love – he knows that there are moments where he feels something very close to it. 

The funniest part about this is that when he feels it, it’s never in grand moments. They don’t have grand moments. Their time with one another is pieced together, made of subtle touches and fleeting glances. They don’t have big proclamations of their feelings because their feelings are uncertain. They’ve turned words into taboo and any form of conversation would surely be some bad omen. 

Smile, Jimin thinks, for your lover comes! 

Instead of grandeur they get subtleties. They get spring flowers trading themselves for leaves. They get clouds rolling past to reveal the sun, and the shadows cast with it. They get midnight, reconciling the sadness of a day’s end for the beginning of a new one. They get eye contact. The kind that lingers for a little too long. Jimin gets to stare into the darkest shade of brown he’s ever seen and is granted permission to count the transient stars in Jeongguk’s eyes that skip across their surface like a meteor shower. Looking at Jeongguk is always like that – Jimin feels like he’s burning and falling. Yet he never wants to look away. 

The two of them get conversations in the dark, whispered into each other’s necks and shoulders like skin might act as a filter. They get mornings when it’s not yet light out, Jimin waking up too early and getting to find the freckles on the back of Jeongguk’s neck that he’s never seen before. They get dinners on the couch, watching TV together and figuring out the way they laugh at the same things. 

Sometimes, with the moon as their nightlight, they talk before thinking, way one is supposed to with a friend. As in, Jimin doesn’t get afraid that Jeongguk might not like what he has to say. Only in retrospect does Jimin realize the way he’s spilled so many stories onto his sheets, and only in retrospect does he notice that they never scare Jeongguk away. It allows him to recognize the way Jeongguk shares his own, too. 

They talk about their friends. Jimin tells Jeongguk about the way he and Taehyung met, and then spells out their first few years together, marked by the best friendship and the most fiery love Jimin has experienced. He explains the petty fights that guided them through Seoul. He walks Jeongguk through the times he and Taehyung got lost together, and how they figured out they were one soul in two bodies. He laughs retelling the arguments that brought them closer and the way they’d stay up all night talking and then sleep until the afternoon.

While telling these stories he realizes that it’s a little bit like what he and Jeongguk are going through now. 

Jeongguk tells him about Yoongi, and the way he helped Jeongguk become himself. Sometimes Jeongguk hums under his breath, but Jimin never knows how to ask him to sing. Jimin learns that once Jeongguk gets to talking, his shoulders relax. He stumbles less over his words, but he still chooses them carefully. There’s so much love in him that Jimin’s not sure how he manages to keep it in all of the time. 

Sometimes they abandon their whispers for pure, loud laughter in the middle of the night. Those are Jimin’s favorites. 

They also get moments of realization – when they figure out they don’t fight anymore. 

It’s because of all of these things that Jimin’s anxiety has taken a new shape. He doesn’t bother to try to deny his feelings for Jeongguk anymore. Instead he spends his free time running over the path they took to get here. They’ve shared plenty of other moments in bed together since the night Jimin let himself go under Jeongguk’s touch, when Jeongguk fucked Jimin so good with a toy between his legs and then showered with him so sweetly after. They’ve only been more intimate since then, no longer needing to draw a sharp line between their sex and their relationship. With the ease they’ve managed to establish, Jimin realizes how exhausting it was to be angry, and how grateful he is to come home to sweet laughter and a sweeter tongue, hands that can treat him like he’s precious and still throw him around or put him in his place. 

All of these moments become their normal, but Jimin has come to realize that not all that much has changed. They’ve just lowered their walls and let time work over them like the tide slowly changes the shape of the shoreline. This erosion has carved away their corners and turned them into something soft; it’s showing them the places where one day they might come to fit together. It’s reassuring, because it reminds Jimin that they’ll keep changing, but for now, he’s as disquieted as he is comforted.

There are other instances, too, that are real enough for Jimin to feel like they’ve built something perfect instead of broken.

 

mood: summertime magic – childish gambino

 

Summer encroaching on the city leaves their air conditioning perpetually on and Jimin always wrapped in some kind of sweater or blanket. Jeongguk and Taehyung are warmblooded, walking around shirtless and sprawling on their beds above the covers. Jimin finds himself getting colder even more easily, especially when he comes home from dance still sweaty, or when his exposed feet touch the tiles and wood of their floors. 

He whines as he pads from the kitchen to the couch after setting his mug of tea in the sink to wash later. “Fuck, this place is freezing,” Jimin groans. He’s not even wearing socks, so he runs across the tile in the kitchenette toward the couch. “I’m tired and it’s cold. My feet are gonna go numb.”

He buries himself under the blanket, but Jeongguk, sitting pretty and pleased on the other side of the couch, tackles him. He’s shirtless, somehow not cold in the slightest, and he reaches his arms under Jimin’s legs and scoops him right up bridal style. Jimin squeals as he’s lifted, but his hands wrap around Jeongguk’s neck anyway. 

“You need to get warm, hyung?” Jeongguk asks all playful and goofy. He presses a sloppy kiss beneath Jimin’s ear and whispers there. “I know a few ways.” 

Jimin squirms in Jeongguk’s grip and shoves at his chest, realizing that they’re already close to his bedroom. “You are so corny, what the hell.” 

“Blame Seokjin-hyung,” Jeongguk chuckles as if Jimin has met the guy more than a handful of times. Jeongguk bumps the cracked door to Jimin’s room open with his hip and closes it with his foot, walking Jimin to the bed and dumping him there. 

Jeongguk follows him into the sheets, sitting up against the headboard and turning to face Jimin with one hand absently running up and down his thigh. Jimin studies him. He’s still grinning, a cheeky little smile telling Jimin that he’s probably up to no good. He gets this look sometimes, usually when he and Taehyung are scheming something. His hair is pulled back with a headband. He’s been wearing them more often now, the weather warmer and his wavy strands longer, but he it leaves his face clear and open – Jimin studies the freckle beneath his lips, the dimple in his cheek, the way his eyes are scanning Jimin just as Jimin scans him. Even sitting down, his body is still shredded, marked in black ink. No matter how silly he acts, Jimin still wants him. Maybe wants him more. 

“So,” Jeongguk starts, his smirk intensifying. 

“So,” Jimin repeats, stifling his laugh. 

“First, I’m gonna make out with you, and then, I’m gonna tell you my idea.”

Jimin actually giggles then, crawling into Jeongguk’s lap and pulling the headband off of him to run his fingers through Jeongguk’s hair. “The two-fold plan to warm me up?” 

Jeongguk puffs his chest and pokes his chin out. “Exactly.” 

“Ah, okay hotshot,” Jimin says, touching Jeongguk’s neck and watching the way his little facade lapses into a cute smile. “Part one then?” 

“Mhm,” Jeongguk murmurs, but he’s already talking against Jimin’s lips. 

Jimin shifts in his lap, and they kiss hot and heavy as soon as their mouths meet. Jeongguk seems a little looser than he is normally, leaning back at the wall and letting Jimin take the lead. His hands idle on Jimin’s waist, making only small movements beneath Jimin’s sweater. He lets out soft noises into Jimin’s mouth, breathy and gentle when Jimin sucks on his tongue and licks past his lips. Jimin touches Jeongguk softly, playing into the way he’s gone pliant beneath him. With careful fingers in Jeongguk’s silky, wavy hair, Jimin scratches at his scalp and tucks strands behind his ears. He rocks his hips down into Jeongguk’s lap in unhurried movements, aching for the way Jeongguk moves against him and lets out mewls that match the smacking of their lips. 

“Hyung,” Jeongguk mumbles when Jimin goes to trail kisses along his neck. He lands them light, like butterflies stopping to kiss a flower. “Ah, love the way you kiss me.” 

“You’re sweet,” Jimin whispers to him, stopping to press more kisses along Jeongguk’s bare collarbones. “Gonna tell me your idea? Or not yet?”

“Not yet,” says Jeongguk on an exhale. “Part one is… longer.” 

Jimin giggles at him, coming to cup his jaw affectionately. “Right. Jeon Jeongguk’s master plan.”

“Every element is important,” Jeongguk says with a smile. He pushes his face into Jimin’s hand and scrapes his teeth playfully. He sits up a little straighter and reaches a hand around Jimin’s neck to pull him in for another kiss. He’s just as pliant beneath Jimin but hungrier, pushing down the fingers still on Jimin’s hip and growing a little louder. He sighs when Jimin pulls away from a kiss with a bite on his lower lip, whining when Jimin doesn’t immediately lean back in for another one. 

“Oh, does my baby want something?” Jimin asks.

“Hyung,” Jeongguk whines, dropping his mouth to Jimin’s neck when he’s denied his mouth. Trailing wet kisses down to Jimin’s shoulder, Jimin listens to the way he lets out sweet little moans against his skin. 

“Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin murmurs, “tell me your idea. I’m sure I can kiss you and do whatever you have in mind at the same time.” 

Jeongguk lifts his head up, staring at Jimin with heavy lidded eyes and parting his pretty, red, wet mouth. “Jimin-hyung,” he starts again, gripping Jimin’s waist with both hands again and readjusting him atop his own lap. He bites his lip and blinks a few times, coming back from that languid space the kissing had brought him to. “Do you have any ties?”

Jimin inhales sharply. “Neck ties?”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk replies. “Unless you have something that will work better?” 

Both amused and incredibly aroused, Jimin does his best to keep his face from heating up and his cock from twitching against his leg. In lieu of a reply, he raises his eyebrows to tell Jeongguk to keep talking. 

“I want you to… tie me up, and then fuck me.” To hide any shyness, he bumps his nose against Jimin’s jaw and presses a kiss there. “Perfect way to get warm, right?” 

To be frank, Jimin’s already overheated in his sweater just from Jeongguk’s hands on his skin, but the thought of Jeongguk’s wrists bound with one of his silky ties is almost enough to make him start sweating then and there. 

“Did you plan this, you crazy kid?” Jimin asks sweetly, grabbing one of Jeongguk’s hands to kiss the pad of his thumb before taking it into his mouth. He just sucks on it for a second, only wanting to watch the way Jeongguk lifts his head up and widens his eyes at the sight of Jimin’s lips around his finger. 

“No,” breathes Jeongguk. “But… I think about it a lot.” 

Jimin hums before letting Jeongguk’s finger slip out of his mouth. He allows his imagination to toy with the idea of Jeongguk getting himself off to the thought of Jimin tying him up. After a pause that has Jeongguk staring at him wide-eyed and curious, patient but eager, Jimin starts to talk. “I forget how much you like it when I fuck you, since you’re usually so good for me.” He lifts a hand to card through Jeongguk’s hair, feeling him purr at the touch but still watching Jimin intently. “Do you wanna feel your hyung open you up all good? Is that it? It might be hard if you can’t touch me, Jeongguk-ah I know how much you like touching me.” 

Jeongguk’s breathing has picked up again beneath him, and he’s looking at Jimin’s lips like he’s thinking of all the ways he can push past them again before he can’t use his hands anymore. He leans into Jimin’s hand still carding through his hair. 

“Are you sure you haven’t thought about this, too?” Jeongguk asks. 

Jimin smirks at him, lets himself chuckle a little bit before he presses a kiss to the corner of Jeongguk’s mouth. “Maybe I have,” he admits. 

Jeongguk squirms beneath him like he’s already tied up, so Jimin kisses him properly, licking past his mouth and getting his hips grinding in little circles again. 

“You’re sure about this, baby?” Jimin asks him when he pulls away. 

The last thing he’d ever want is to hurt Jeongguk or make him feel uncomfortable, because communication certainly isn’t their strong suit. But, he thinks, for two people who have spent so much time fighting with each other, they’ve also managed to build a lot of trust through their shared unspoken moments together. 

Jeongguk blinks at him, big starry eyes clear and open beyond the lust lingering in his blown pupils. “Hyung,” Jeongguk starts, “I’m sure. But if you’re not – or if this is too much for us – or, or, I don’t know – um. We really don’t have to if… I just thought it would be fun.”

Jimin watches him start to panic, and like they’re mirroring each other, he feels the same emotion bloom inside of him. His empathy takes over, and the only thing he can process is how he can calm Jeongguk down again. He stops carding through his hair to cup his face again, petting his cheek and meeting his eyes as deeply as he can to be sure that Jeongguk is reading him. “Baby,” Jimin whispers softly, watching Jeongguk’s eyes close as he leans in to kiss him gently. “I want to. I want it so badly that–” 

He cuts himself off for fear of saying too much. He’s almost in disbelief that Jeongguk trusts him so much to do something like this with him. That he’s willing to let himself be so vulnerable to Jimin’s touch when they’ve spent so much time knocking each other down. Quietly, to himself, he realizes this is more proof. Jeongguk would never lay himself out like this for nothing. Like this, there’s nowhere for him to go. He must have no intention of running. 

He sucks in a breath. “Jeongguk-ah,” he starts again, leaning over Jeongguk’s form to drop feather-light kisses to his neck. “I want you, okay, baby?” He reaches for both of Jeongguk’s wrists and does his best to hold them together with one of his small hands. “I’m gonna tie you up and make you feel good, and if you ever want to stop, you tell me, okay?”

“Okay,” Jeongguk mumbles. “I promise I’ll tell you. I trust you, though.” 

Jimin’s stomach swoops, but he refuses to let his own emotions break this moment where Jeongguk is already so vulnerable. He thumbs across Jeongguk’s knuckles and smiles, murmuring, “I’m glad.” A pause. “I trust you, too.” 

He covers up his words with a kiss, to convince himself that they’re talking about trust in sex and sex only, squeezing Jeongguk’s wrists and loving the way he moans just at the feeling. They make out for a little while longer. Jeongguk takes advantage of the time he has with his hands, freeing them from Jimin’s grasp to grab at Jimin’s ass, frustrated that he can’t fit his fingers beneath the skin tight denim. He lets his fingers trail up Jimin’s back under his sweater, finally feeling just how warm he’s made Jimin become. As they kiss, Jimin feels Jeongguk grow more and more restless, and Jimin eventually takes pity on him, leaving a few, closed-mouth kisses to his lips before pulling away. 

Jeongguk immediately whines, tightening his grip on Jimin’s waist and trying to pull him closer. 

“Yah, kid, are you sure you wanna get tied up?” Jimin asks teasingly, picking up one of Jeongguk’s hands to play with his fingers. “You can’t seem to stop touching me.” 

Jeongguk cocks his head, replying to Jimin’s smirk with one of his own. “I’m sure.” 

“Then let me get up, hmm?” drawls Jimin, looking down at Jeongguk’s big, steady hands gripping his waist. 

Jeongguk drops his hands immediately, but he still looks coy. He’s unapologetic. “Sorry, hyung.” 

Jimin, playing along with his game, drags a pointed finger along Jeongguk’s jaw before lifting up his chin. He lilts his voice sarcastically. “No need to apologize, Jeongguk. Just be good, okay? And get undressed.” 

“You’re not gonna help me?” drones Jeongguk, leaning further back to stretch out his abdomen, drawing Jimin’s eyes to the length of his body, the sharpness of his muscles. 

As tempting as it is, Jimin rolls his eyes, swinging his leg over Jeongguk’s lap but staying perched next to him. He presses one small hand on the center of Jeongguk’s chest. “You did just fine getting your shirt off before you even came to sit with me on the couch. I’m sure you’ll be alright getting the rest of your clothes off.” 

Jeongguk blinks at him. “What if I want you to undress me?” 

“You’re asking for a lot tonight, Jeon Jeongguk. Do you want me to undress you or do you want me to tie you up?” 

Jeongguk smiles at him, working the charm that he always waits to pull out, and he’s so gorgeous it almost works. “Isn’t it worth a shot to try for both?” 

“Okay, brat,” Jimin says, flicking across one of Jeongguk’s nipples. “Quit testing your luck.” 

“It’s my job though, hyung,” Jeongguk murmurs, leaning forward to catch Jimin’s lips in a kiss that he doesn’t even try to avoid. “Maybe one day I’ll get you to crack for me.” 

“Crack and do what?” Jimin asks, finally getting off of the bed while trailing fingers on Jeongguk’s skin.

Jimin keeps his eyes on Jeongguk, who starts to move his hand toward his waistband to finally listen and get undressed. “We’ll just have to wait and see.” He marks his words with a smirk. 

Jimin turns his back to him, peeling his sweater over his head and dropping it on his desk chair. He can feel Jeongguk’s eyes wandering his skin, but he doesn’t give him the satisfaction of turning around. Instead he rids himself of his clothes one article at a time, and then he takes a little longer than necessary while rifling through his closet, fully naked and looking for the perfect tie. 

When he finally turns back around, tie clasped in his fist, he lets himself bask in the way Jeongguk stares at him. His eyes wander the shape of Jimin, pausing on the slightness of his waist and the curve of his hips. Jimin stares back, but Jeongguk’s eyes don’t even lift once to meet his. 

“Done being mouthy?” Jimin asks as he crawls back onto the bed. “Too busy looking to try and talk?” 

Jeongguk smirks yet again, immediately reaching his big hands to trail over Jimin’s sides, thumbing over the tattoo on his ribcage and pulling him closer. “You like when I talk back,” Jeongguk murmurs, eyes on Jimin’s lips, trying to get him to lean in for a kiss. 

Jimin scoffs at him, placing a hand on Jeongguk’s thigh and starting to trace patterns close to the juncture of his hip. “Want me to gag you, too?” he jokes. 

Jeongguk’s confidence is unwavering. “No, hyung. I wanna talk to you.” 

“Yeah?” murmurs Jimin, dropping his lips to Jeongguk’s neck. “What do you plan on saying?” He keeps his mouth fleeting, knowing the way Jeongguk feels like it’s never enough. He scrapes his teeth at the corner of Jeongguk’s jaw, waiting for the way Jeongguk’s hand will tighten on his waist. A second later, fingertips press harder. It’s only in the in between that Jimin starts to realize how many of the little things they’ve started to learn about each other. For Jimin, it’s just written in a touch. It’s the kind of smile that comes first thing in the morning, or the way Jeongguk’s mouth turns down when his coffee is a little too bitter. It’s right now, anticipating the way Jeongguk’s hands will move on him and then getting to feel exactly that. 

Hot finger pads pressing into hotter skin. Jeongguk, moving his hands to drag his nails down Jimin’s back and teasing, “Whatever I want.” 

Jimin clicks his tongue. “You’re not gonna be mean to me, are you, sweet boy?”

Jeongguk gasps. Jimin’s teeth are in his neck. “I’m never mean.” 

“Right,” Jimin giggles, redirecting his mouth from Jeongguk’s neck to his lips. “ Never.

Jeongguk whines, pulling Jimin by the shoulders to get him ever closer. “Just call me sweet again.” 

“Ah,” Jimin chides, pulling back from Jeongguk’s mouth and moving the hand that was still tracing spirals on Jeongguk’s thigh onto his cock. He jerks him off slowly, collecting all the sticky precome on the head to slick up his length. “We’ll see if you’re good enough.”

 

mood: so tied up – cold war kids, bishop briggs

 

He watches Jeongguk’s eyes flutter shut at the touch, lips parted, breath even – but Jimin wants his attention still. Tightening his grip at the base of Jeongguk’s cock, he lifts his other hand in front of Jeongguk’s face, the tie still between his fingers. It’s a soft, silky baby blue. At the sound of Jimin’s voice, Jeongguk’s eyes snap open again immediately. “So you thought this color suited me, and I think it might suit you, too.” He presses the tie to Jeongguk’s cheek. “Looks nice with your skin color. I think you’ll look so pretty with it wrapped around your wrists. What do you think, hm? Will this work for you, baby? S’it what you wanted?” 

Jimin rubs his thumb back and forth over the slit of Jeongguk’s cock, making his hips stutter. “Yes,” breathes Jeongguk.

“Hands, then,” says Jimin, and Jeongguk holds out his wrists. Jimin ties them together in front of his abdomen, tight but not suffocating. As soon as they’re secure, Jeongguk adjusts himself to lay full on his back, and so prettily raises his arms so they’re above his head instead. In that position, Jimin traces the curved lines of his biceps and is tempted to touch them just to feel how strong he is. He’s a vision like that, powerful body long and lean on Jimin’s bed, making a map out of his tattoos. Jeongguk is so much at once, vulnerable and beautiful, out on display for Jimin to take even though he’s strong enough to turn the tables whenever he wants. 

Jimin keeps touching him, still pumping his hand up and down the slick shaft of his cock as he drags his free hand up and down the toned muscle of Jeongguk’s chest and stomach. He eyes him carefully, making sure Jeongguk is looking at him and tracing his gaze.

“You know,” Jimin says carefully, working his hand even more slowly over Jeongguk’s length and looking at the way his hand seems so small around it, “it might be fun to ride you like this, too.” Jeongguk exhales the softest moan. Jimin cocks his head. “But, it’ll have to be another time. Not when you asked me so nicely to fuck you.” 

“We can do that whenever you want, hyung.” 

Jimin hums. “Noted.” He touches Jeongguk for a little while longer, watching him get more and more worked up just from the attention. Jimin loves when he gets like this, because it’s a rarity. Usually, Jeongguk is the most caring kind of lover. He never leaves Jimin unattended. He’s always to make sure Jimin is feeling good, that Jimin is getting what he wants. He’s never selfish. On nights like this, though, he lets himself go. He leaves his pleasure in Jimin’s hands, always knowing he’ll get exactly what he wants out of it. 

“Want me to finger you now, Jeongguk-ah?” Jimin asks, moving his hand to brush his fingers between Jeongguk’s legs. “Get you all wet? Are you gonna get all noisy for me?” 

Jeongguk squirms at his touch, pushing his hole toward Jimin’s hand. “I might,” he admits. 

Jimin simply hums happily. He gets up from the bed again to grab lube and a condom, and he takes the opportunity to make Jeongguk grow a little more desperate. From the foot of the bed, Jimin stares. Jeongguk’s arms are still over his head, and waiting so patiently. He’s so good, eyes closing as he tilts back his head to expose his neck, knees bending to spread his legs outward with his thighs pressed to the bed. 

“Look at you,” Jimin says when he comes back. He settles between Jeongguk’s legs and presses his hand onto Jeongguk’s sharp hip bone. “So pretty. So patient, too.” 

Jimin drags a finger along the length of Jeongguk’s cock where it’s hard against his belly, and it dribbles a little precome at his touch. Laying on his stomach, Jimin braces both hands on Jeongguk’s thighs to take his hard cock into his mouth. He bobs his head for a little while, suckling on the head before he pulls off, and when he removes his mouth, Jeongguk is just as worked up as he wants him to be. He slicks up his fingers and presses one to Jeongguk’s entrance gently, knowing that even without his hands, Jeongguk will push back against him instead of touching Jimin’s face or shoulder like he normally would to get him to go faster. 

Pressing in slowly, Jeongguk’s tight hole swallows his finger. Jimin fucks him shallowly at first, teasing, knowing that it’s nowhere near what Jeongguk wants or what he can take. He only starts to crook his finger when he can see Jeongguk’s wrists trying to pull apart from each other above his head, probably subconsciously wanting to bring a hand to Jimin’s wrist and tell him to fuck him harder. 

Driving his fingernails lightly into Jeongguk’s thigh, he uses the finger inside of his wet hole to press against his prostate, rubbing across it a few times until Jeongguk cries out. 

Moaning, he gasps, “Feels good, hyung.” 

Jimin chuckles at him, leaving wet kisses on the inside of his thighs. “Just one finger? It’s enough to make you feel good?” 

“Y-you should know, Jimin-hyung,” Jeongguk quips, even though his breath is unsteady and he’s started to rock back with the rhythm of Jimin’s hand. 

“Are you getting smart with me?” Jimin asks, uncurling his finger to just fuck him lazily again. “When I have you like this?”

“Maybe,” Jeongguk breathes. Arms still stretched overhead, looking so pretty tied up in baby blue, he sits up for a few seconds, if only to flash Jimin a pretty little smile. 

“So cheeky,” Jimin mutters, his hair falling in his eyes as he adds another finger. He knows he’s winning with the way Jeongguk moans as soon as he scissors them apart. 

He opens Jeongguk up slowly, teasing him with his fingers and taking his time to suck on his cock. Jeongguk gasps throughout it, so good with his hands tied over his head. His smooth body is Jimin’s to play with, and he takes everything he gets, so reactive with his tightening abdomen and shaky thighs. By the time Jimin has been fucking him with three fingers for longer than probably either of them can take, he finally breaks, whining, “Please, Jimin-hyung, fuck me.” 

“Want it like this?” Jimin asks. “On your back?” 

Jeongguk pouts, regaining a little bit of composure as Jimin’s fingers slow down. “Yeah, you said you’d kiss me.” 

Jimin chuckles, pressing kisses to Jeongguk’s hip bones as he eases his fingers out. “I forgot. I’m sorry.” 

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything else, he just flutters his eyes shut and waits, body lain out so prettily in wait as Jimin rolls a condom on and slicks up his cock. He pushes in slowly until Jeongguk seems like he’s going to break from the impatience, and then Jimin kisses him hard with one hand cupping his face as he starts to fuck him slowly. Jeongguk eggs him on to fuck him hard, goading him with words like, “You wanted to get warm, right, hyung? Don’t be lazy. Give it to me.” 

Jimin wants to fuck the attitude out of him, grabbing Jeongguk’s tied wrists over his head and squeezing the place where they’re tied together. He fucks his cock in and out of Jeongguk’s hot, wet ass, the sound of their skin meeting filling the room. Jeongguk grows loud beneath him, moaning when Jimin’s cock glides against his prostate, weakly trying to push against where Jimin’s now holding him down and always chasing him for another kiss on the lips. 

“Is this what you wanted, baby?” Jimin asks, pushing his fingertips onto the pulsepoint of Jeongguk’s wrist and fucking him even faster. 

“Yes,” Jeongguk breathes. He lolls his head to the side as Jimin talks to him, showing off his pretty skin and the little marks that have bloomed there. His profile is gorgeous, sharp jaw and the gentle slope of his nose looking perfect pressed to the pillow. 

“You sure you don’t wanna touch me?” Jimin goads, skirting his lips on Jeongguk’s jaw, fingers teasing at the knot on the tie. 

“Jimin-hyung,” Jeongguk whines, thrashing beneath him. “Don’t test me.” 

Jimin chuckles, licking past Jeongguk’s lips before murmuring, “Does it matter if I do? Either way you can’t do it. You can’t touch me, and you can’t touch your big, hard cock either.” Jimin slows the pace of his hips, holding his hand right above Jeongguk’s cock but not daring to actually touch it. He wants Jeongguk to be bucking up just to have his touch. 

“Do you want me to do it?” asks Jimin. “Want me to jerk you off until you come?” 

Jimin watches as his hips lift but hesitate, falling back to the bed and pushing towards Jimin’s cock inside him instead of his hand. “Ah, I don’t know,” replies Jeongguk. 

“Hmm? Why not?” 

“Just,” Jeongguk whines. “Just not yet. Kiss me more. I don’t wanna come until you’re gonna come.” 

“Okay, baby,” Jimin whispers, and he does exactly what he’s told. He fucks Jeongguk hard, still tightening the grip on Jeongguk’s wrists and loving the way he still tries to pull them apart even though it’s fruitless. He works until both of them are gasping, until both of them are sweating, until the heat has built up so much inside of the two of them that Jimin can’t even imagine being cold. He wants only this. This rapture on fire. This feeling. The slick slide of their lips together and the inferno that envelopes him every time their bodies meet. 

He holds onto that blaze until Jeongguk is repeating his name, begging to be touched. They come at almost the same time, Jeongguk crying out as Jimin milks his cock, jerking him off through his orgasm until his hips are twitching. Jimin follows after, collapsing over him as he come into the condom. Jimin pulls out almost right away so he can untie Jeongguk, and the first thing Jeongguk does with his free hands is lay a big palm to Jimin’s face to kiss him. 

 

mood: baby (acoustic) – bishop briggs

 

“Mm,” Jeongguk hums, all hazy eyed and warm, “touching you feels even better now.” 

“Yeah?” Jimin mutters, fighting a blush even though he knows that Jeongguk can feel how hot his cheeks are. 

“Yeah,” Jeongguk giggles, petting Jimin’s cheek. “You’re soft.”

Jimin rolls his eyes at him, but he knows he’s smiling, not trying to fight an unbeatable emotion. He goes to get stuff to clean up, and when he reenters the room, he finds Jeongguk sitting against the headboard again, still naked, still so gorgeous. He’s pushed his hair back with the headband again, and he watches Jimin move toward him so intently. When they finally flop back next to each other, both curled on their sides, working so well through their post-sex silence with no awkwardness in sight, Jeongguk starts to stroke the smooth skin of Jimin’s back and shoulderblades. 

A yawn escapes Jimin, and he covers his mouth. “Aish, I’m tired.” 

“Long day, hm?” murmurs Jeongguk, starting to play with Jimin’s hair. 

“Yeah,” Jimin agrees. “Busy.” 

Jeongguk pauses, leaning forward for a kiss like it’s natural. It’s so languid. The meeting of lips, all comfort and no sex. The way they talk without words. 

When it ends, Jeongguk keeps him close with an arm slung over his hips. “I missed you today,” he says. Plainly. Casually. Like it’s not unusual. 

Jimin rears his head back without thinking, muttering, “What?” 

Jeongguk just chuckles, like Jimin’s disbelief is funny. Against Jimin’s lips he says, “Of course I did. By the way, are you warm now?”

And they move past it just like that, as if it’s something that Jimin is supposed to accept as their perpetual truth. When Jeongguk is away from him, he misses Jimin, and he doesn’t feel the need to elaborate any further than that. It frustrates Jimin to no end, but he doesn’t know how to ask for any more of Jeongguk’s words, for any more of his feelings. He’s still not certain he can handle them, because he’s afraid they might not be what he wants them to be – no matter how many signs he gets that they are. 

Jeongguk keeps teasing him, touching his tacky skin and making silly jokes about how warm Jimin got and how well his plan worked. He preens when Jimin pets softly at his wrists, and eventually he falls asleep on his back to the feeling of Jimin drawing shapes on the smooth skin inside of his forearms. 

Jimin doesn’t stop touching Jeongguk once he’s letting steady exhales past his lips and his body has relaxed into the sheets, but he can’t fall asleep. He’s already processing his own feelings so slowly and delicately – thinking about what Jeongguk’s emotions might possibly be only stifles his thoughts even more. There’s too much to unpack, and he could pick it apart for hours, placating himself and then finding doubt all over again. It doesn’t help that so much of his worry starts with this moment right now and the way it keeps repeating itself – Jeongguk in his bed, always inviting Jimin closer and sharing fractions of his heart. 

Jimin finds himself having to continuously wonder how any of this is real if they can’t talk about it. Are they both too afraid to open the box? Are they waiting for the other to go first? Jimin knows he could give himself away, but the last time he tried to put himself out there, he received nothing in return. He’s always drawn back to that fact and is forced to reconcile with the unanswerable question: why did Jeongguk reject him in the first place? 

He’s not sure how they’ve wound up in this place, where most of Jimin’s free time is filled with Jeongguk. They’ve built a pattern of starting and ending their days together, and for as far as Jimin can now think back, it feels natural. So much of the bitterness that had fueled his rage to last far longer than it should have has now been replaced with something sweet. All he tastes are summer’s honeysuckles. He feels like he’s blooming, but he can’t even figure out when they started to grow. 

He knows there’s a good feeling but a feeling alone can’t answer his questions. He’s still so afraid that Jeongguk might push him away again, but he’s not even sure that his fear is warranted anymore. Jeongguk has never really denied him, and even his initial silence toward Jimin wasn’t a flat out no. Even though their origin defined so much of the trajectory of what they’ve experienced together, it still was only one instance – aside from Jeongguk leaving him in the bathroom. But now even that feels like Jeongguk’s own regret more than his distaste. Jimin knows better now – and there’s not one part of him that can bear to peg Jeongguk as unkind. It’s simply untrue. Jimin has learned so much about the way Jeongguk hesitates. The way he doubts himself. His shyness. His desire to make sure Jimin is always attended to.

Other than their beginning, Jimin’s own doubt and hesitance has been the thing getting in his way – not Jeongguk. It’s never, ever for Jeongguk’s lack of trying. He’s always the one bringing them together, starting their spring, lighting their fire. He works to make sure they’re warm. 

Jeongguk looks at him like he can’t ever stand to see Jimin cold.

The next morning, Jimin hears the words, “I’m going to the gym,” while he’s still half-asleep and bleary-eyed, and when he finally gets up from his bed hours laters, Jeongguk is alert in the kitchen, and a brand new pair of warm, fuzzy slippers sit outside of Jimin’s bedroom door. 

Notes:

WELL??? there it is... next time we wrap it up for real. i hope you all enjoyed the chapter and are starting to see more of both jk and jimin. they are indeed complex! your comments and kudos mean the world to me, and i appreciate how much thought you all put into your feedback and speculations.

as always please stay well during this scary time and i hope everyone is being safe.

if you want to see more of my works/have a conversation i'm @jkoomi!!

Chapter 6: butterflies

Summary:

“Anyway,” Namjoon continues, tapping his pen on the table. “What are you waiting for? Just talk to him.”

“How?” Jimin whines, crossing his arms over his chest. “We don’t talk about anything.”

Namjoon’s face grows a little disappointed, like he’s saddened that Jimin would think of his relationship with Jeongguk as so superficial. “That’s not true. You can’t be in love with someone you don’t talk to,” Namjoon argues.

Notes:

well... we've reached the end. honestly this is such a bittersweet feeling for me because as challenging as this story was for me to write in terms of plot and angst levels and grappling with difficult emotions, it was so, so rewarding. i really fell in love with this jm and jk and it's weird to think their time has come to a close! not to mention, i never thought that so many people would join me for the ride and read along with a little WIP from someone who'd only put out one story before. that being said, it means the world to me that you did. thank you so so so much for reading. i hope you enjoy the final chapter.

and finally, not to spoil anything, i want to mention that bts's song "butterfly" plays a very important role in this chapter. i know a lot of people have discussed the song's meaning and have linked to being about the loss of a loved one tw// to death. i do not interpret it that way in this fic but i in no way in tend to diminish the meaning that the song holds. it's one of my favorites.

anyway! enjoy the final chapter, i love you all!!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

mood: so good – omar apollo

 

Jimin hasn’t let himself be impulsive in a long time. He’s forced himself into a learned rigidity even though he has a heart that seeks to break patterns, and buried somewhere in his teenage years is a little bit of a spontaneous streak. Taehyung knew it well when they first met, and they have it memorialized in the form of fading memories from when they’d take the metro to random stops in a city that was still a little foreign to them. 

He feels looser, lately. He craves change. It’s the kind of itch he always gets before he goes for a tattoo. It’s the feeling he used to tap in on when he’d go for a walk with the intention of getting lost, or when he’d let himself have the things he wanted without asking himself if he was sure first. Right now, he knows he’s not sure of very much at all, and for a change, he lets himself sit in that discomfort of unknowing. That’s what Namjoon would probably be telling him to do, if he was talking to him about all this. 

He opts for the more enabling of his two best friends, and he approaches Taehyung early in the morning by bursting into his room and yelling way too loudly for the time of day. 

“Kim Taehyung,” Jimin sings, coming to lean against Taehyung’s messy desk covered in art supplies and the magazines he uses to collage. “I need a favor.” 

Taehyung turns in his chair to smile at Jimin and stands. “I give you my yes in advance, but can we please discuss said favor in the living room? I need breakfast.” 

Jimin grins and leads the way out. “So,” Jimin starts, still giddy, “I need you to come to the salon with me.” 

Taehyung snatches him by the wrist and stops them by the entryway to the kitchen. “Excuse me, did you say salon?” 

Jimin shrugs, smiling coyly. “I wanna dye my hair.” 

“Jimin-ah… what? All of a sudden?” 

Jimin reaches for a strand of Taehyung’s own fading red hair and twirls it around his finger. “I know it’s out of nowhere, but I’ve… been feeling more like myself lately.” 

Taehyung narrows his eyes, and when Jimin drops his hand, Taehyung takes it upon himself to assess Jimin’s hair, carding through it, long and black. “What do you mean?” he asks. 

He shrugs again. “I miss it. I don’t know. I feel like it would be fun, and I feel ready to… commit myself to things that take work.” 

It’s cheesy, and Taehyung laughs at him, as he could have predicted. “Oh, Jimin-ah,” he chuckles. “What made you change your mind?” 

“I just feel different. Better.”

Taehyung smiles at him and goes into the kitchen to find a banana. “Only you could turn your hair crisis into something so poetic,” he laughs. 

“But Taehyung-ssi,” Jimin weeps dramatically, following him into the kitchen and holding a palm gently against Taehyung’s jaw despite the fact that he’s chewing a banana. “My prince, dyeing my hair will allow me to conceal my identity to escape with you.” 

Taehyung clutches his hand and pulls him into the living room, wielding his banana like a sword. “Park Jimin-ssi, does this mean you finally feel confident enough to leave the castle walls? You’re willing to abandon your kingdom for a forbidden love?” 

Jimin, extremely seriously, intertwines their fingers and drops to one knee. “Taehyung-ah, darling of my life, I would do anything for you. My silver hair will finally allow me to escape with you, and then we can begin our new life together.” 

Mouth falling open, Taehyung drops Jimin’s hand and his banana peel to the floor. His character vanishes in an instant, and then he’s pulling Jimin to his feet. “Wait. Silver?” 

Jimin chuckles weakly. “Surprise?” 

Taehyung groans, looking Jimin up and down even though he’s just in pajamas. “Jimin-ah,” he exclaims, “you’re gonna look so hot. Ugh. Maybe we should make out when you dye it just for old time’s sake.” 

Jimin laughs him off, feeling a little shy. “Kim Taehyung, you’re literally married to Hoseokie-hyung.” 

Taehyung waves a hand around. “Your point is moot. I can kiss my hot best friend if I want.”

Jimin spins around and looks over his shoulder with a flourish. “Only if we get to ride away together on horseback, my brave warrior.” 

Taehyung winks, lowering his voice when he speaks. “Oh, Jimin-ssi, just make sure you hold on tight.” 

He pulls Jimin by the waist into his arms, and Jimin, batting his eyelashes, whispers, “I’ll never let you go.” Then Taehyung dips Jimin nearly to the floor and presses a gross, loud, wet kiss to his closed lips. 

They come apart giggling furiously, Jimin falling all over Taehyung and pushing his face into Taehyung’s shoulder. They’re interrupted by a slight cough and the sound of Jeongguk murmuring, “Umm… am I interrupting something?” 

Jimin sees him smiling softly, and instead of feeling angry that Jeongguk might be acting judgmental, he notes the fond look on his face and grows a little flustered instead. 

“Obviously, Jeongguk,” says Taehyung, tightening his grip on Jimin’s waist and pulling him so their sides are flush together. “We’re about to run away from our kingdoms to start a new life together.” 

“Umm…” says Jeongguk again, trying to fight his giggles. Jimin blushes madly and refuses to meet Jeongguk’s eyes. “Good luck with that?” 

Taehyung sticks his tongue out at Jeongguk and waves him off. “Shoo, you pleb. We don’t need good luck. We have love. ” 

“Is this why we never hang out as the three of us?” Jeongguk asks, fiddling with his shirt sleeves and still looking at the two of them with bright, endeared eyes. 

“Yes,” Jimin and Taehyung reply in harmony. 

“Do you always kiss this much?” inquires Jeongguk, finally remembering that he doesn’t have to be frozen in place and coming to sit on the couch. 

Taehyung pauses thoughtfully, using a hand to lift Jimin’s jaw and study his face. Jimin cutely purses his lips at him. “Not anymore, but maybe we should bring it back.” He turns to look at Jeongguk. “Jiminie and I are masters of the platonic kiss. Right?”

“Right,” Jimin agrees, and he kisses Taehyung on the corner of his mouth. 

Jeongguk squirms on the couch, clearly flustered. Jimin’s almost tempted to walk over there and kiss Jeongguk for real, just to calm him down, but they’ve never shown any kind of affection in front of Taehyung. It feels like it might be some kind of faux pas. 

“Um…” Jeongguk says a third time, bright red. 

Jimin decides to roll with the jokes instead. 

“Oh my god, Taehyung-ah,” laughs Jimin, “his face.” 

“Jeon Jeongguk,” Taehyung tsks. “You need to control your expressions.”

Jeongguk just laughs, shaking his head. “You guys are… something else.” 

Taehyung merely shrugs, dropping his arm from Jimin’s waist to hold his hand instead. 

“Honestly, Jeongguk-ah,” says Jimin, “you’ve lived here for so long, you should really know this by now.” 

“What I want to know is how I’m supposed to move on after realizing there is definitely no Korean historical drama about a gay forbidden love between royals,” moans Taehyung.

Jimin facepalms. “Fuck. We’re too big-brained.” 

Taehyung clicks his tongue. “We have to drop out of school and go into the entertainment industry now. Honestly, someone should hire us.” He eyes his abandoned banana peel and goes to pick it up. “Now what time are we going to the salon?” 

“My appointment is at 11,” Jimin tells him. 

“Salon?” pipes Jeongguk from the couch. 

“It’s hair crisis season, Jeongguk-ah,” Taehyung mutters, like that’s supposed to answer all his questions. 

Taehyung claims that part of going to get his hair done is to dress the part, so Jimin listens without much resistance, mostly because he’s so happy that the two of them will get an afternoon together in a way they haven’t for a very long time. Taehyung drags Jimin from the living room to his bedroom and forces him to dress nicely, so Jimin shoves his legs into tight black jeans and tries not to complain too much when Taehyung makes him tuck his shirt in. 

“Oh my god,” Taehyung gasps while rifling through Jimin’s clothes as if Jimin is going to change again. “This means you’ll be blonde again eventually. I’ll get pink Jimin back!” 

Jimin just laughs at him. 

It’s still only beginning to become summer, and the weather usually begs something warmer in morning and evenings but has him sweating by lunch. Jimin takes a leather jacket with him to the salon anyway, because he’s sure the air conditioning in there will leave him with a chill when he gets his hair wet.

Once there, Taehyung keeps him entertained while he sits under heat with the bleach in his hair, knowing that he’ll probably regret going straight to a lighter color but thankful that his stash of purple shampoo still lives safely in their bathroom. It takes a couple of hours to do the bleach and the color, and by the end of it all, Taehyung is buzzing in his seat, almost as fired up as the summer thunderstorm brewing outside. When all is said and done and Jimin’s hair is blown dry, they pay in a rush, and Taehyung drags Jimin to the sidewalk to take photos of him. The clouds threaten to burst any moment, but Taehyung pays them no mind, readjusting Jimin’s poses and catcalling him, claiming that the storm clouds make for the perfect background to match the new color of his hair. 

“Mother Nature was watching,” explains Taehyung. “She brought us a storm because she knew it would make you look extra pretty. It would be a shame if we don’t take advantage of it.” 

They rush home, and Taehyung keeps making him laugh on the metro, saying, “I don’t even wanna go to Hobi’s later, you look so sexy. Ugh, my prince.” 

Jimin giggles at him, pinching his side and blushing. “You’re leaving Hoseok-hyung for me?” he asks, batting his eyelashes. 

Taehyung makes an incredulous sound. “Um, fuck no. You have your own boyfriend.”

Jimin frowns at him, crossing his arms. Sometimes Taehyung gets a little too playful when talking about Jeongguk. “Taehyung–”

Taehyung rolls his eyes and slings an arm over Jimin’s shoulders. “Relax. I’m joking. I know you’re both emotionally incompetent anyway.” He pauses, studying Jimin carefully. “He’s gonna go crazy over this, by the way.” 

“Over what?” asks Jimin. 

“Your hair, ” Taehyung says like Jimin is stupid, carding a hand through it, all silver and soft and sweet smelling from the blow out and hair products. 

“What, why do you say that?” Jimin mumbles. 

Taehyung looks like he wants to slam his head into a wall. “Because you look hot, Jimin-ah. There’s literally nothing else to it.” 

Jimin just pouts at him, but he feels confident. Even if Jeongguk doesn’t react, getting his hair done is like a sigh of relief. He feels a little bit more like himself – and he knows he looks good. 

They make plans to watch movies for the rest of the afternoon, Taehyung sending a strongly worded text to Jeongguk to join them despite Jimin’s halfhearted protests, and they race the storm on their way back from the metro stop. They luck out, and the rain only starts with a loud clap of thunder once they’re safely inside their apartment. The humidity has Jimin’s shirt sticking to his shoulders, but he doesn’t bother to take his jacket off. 

Jeongguk is sitting on the couch when they get home, cuddled up under a fuzzy blanket and clad in an unusually bright pink shirt. He’s so cute that Jimin has to look down at his feet without even offering him a smile when he walks through the door. Though when he hears Jeongguk’s audible gasp, he looks up again, and Jeongguk is looking at him with bright, wide eyes. 

“Hyung,” Jeongguk blurts. “Your hair looks so good. You look so pretty.” 

Jimin looks away again, blushing furiously but this time catching Taehyung’s eye, who’s standing to the side as he kicks off his shoes, pretending to be on his phone even though Jimin knows better. He shoots Jimin a smug smile, making a face that says, I told you so, but thankfully keeping quiet. 

Jimin manages to get his bearings, giving Jeongguk a smirk and saying, “Where was this reaction before, huh? Was the black that bad?” 

He’s teasing, but Jeongguk’s eyes seem to widen even more, shifting under the blanket and pulling it up to his chin. “No, Jimin– Jimin-hyung, you look good all the time, but–” 

Jimin chuckles as ducks down to take off his boots. “Hmm? It’s that good? It’s been a while, y’know. I used to dye my hair all the time.” 

“Really?” Jeongguk murmurs, rubbing his hands on his legs. “I bet you’d look good in every color, but silver, um. Wow. I’m rambling. But yeah, you look so pretty. Tell your hairdresser… um… good job.”

This time, Taehyung is unable to hide his snicker, but he stifles it into his hand. Then suddenly Jeongguk stands, the blanket falling to the floor. 

Jimin giggles at him again, running a hand through the softness of his hair and pushing it back. “Where are you going? I thought you were gonna hang out with us finally?”

Jeongguk just moves toward the hallway, ducking his head. “Um, I just gotta– yeah, maybe later.” 

Then he flees. 

Taehyung laughs hysterically as soon as he hears Jeongguk’s bedroom door shut, and it tinkers throughout the room prettily, just like the rain from outside. He throws himself onto the couch and pulls the blanket over him, chortling, “Oh my god, Jimin-ah, you fucking broke him.” 

Jimin’s sure he’s still bright red, and he can feel it in his face, but he laughs too, coming to sit next to Taehyung and stealing some of the blanket. He tries to catch his breath, so unused to Jeongguk so openly losing his composure in front of him, let alone complimenting him in front of someone else. Or really, complimenting him at all. 

“I was not expecting that reaction,” Jimin admits. 

“I literally told you so,” Taehyung laughs, reaching for the remote. “Just wait until he gets you alone.” 

“Shut up, ” Jimin whines, swatting him. A pause. Then he wonders. “What the hell does he tell you about our sex life?” 

Taehyung merely zips his lips and throws away the key. 

They watch a few movies before Taehyung goes to Hoseok’s, suiting up cutely with his umbrella and rain boots and leaving Jimin with a parting kiss to the forehead. Jeongguk returns not too long after, shyly poking his head around the corner and then coming into the living room when he sees that the coast is clear. He returns to the couch, big eyes dark and not leaving Jimin for a second. 

 

mood: sweet night – v

 

Jimin gives him the prettiest smile he can muster, and Jeongguk exhales, putting a hand on Jimin’s knee. “Sorry I left you before, hyung,” murmurs Jeongguk, leaning into Jimin’s side and bringing their faces a little closer together. His pretty eyes are as wide as saucers, full of something just as sweet. “I really… didn’t know if I could sit and watch movies for hours with you guys and not touch you.” He chuckles softly, blushing. Jimin blushes, too. “And I didn’t know if you wanted me to touch you in front of Taehyung, and then I started thinking too hard, so I just excused myself.” 

Jimin’s smile grows wider, looking down at Jeongguk’s big hand on his thigh. “So much self control, Jeongguk-ah.” 

But, ” Jeongguk continues, “I heard him leave, and I just… I can’t stop thinking about you.” He shifts on the couch, fingers running up the inseam of Jimin’s jeans, his mouth dropping to Jimin’s neck. “God, I have to have you.” He lifts his head again like he’s changing his mind, wanting to look at Jimin in the eyes, wanting their lips to brush. When he speaks, his voice is low but pleading, honest and hopeful. “Hyung, hyung, please let me have you. Can I please have you?” 

Jimin giggles again, raising a hand to Jeongguk’s cheek to kiss him like honey just once, petting at the smooth skin of his face. “Jeon Jeongguk always talks sweetly to me when he wants something. You must really want me if you’re saying please to me this much.” 

“I’ll say please as much as you want, hyung,” Jeongguk replies. He moves his head back as if to get a more complete look at Jimin’s face, bringing up one hand to card through the softness of Jimin’s hair. “You look so beautiful.” 

Jimin’s breath hitches, and he isn’t able to catch it before Jeongguk kisses him again.

“You said you used to do this all the time?” Jeongguk asks, still looking at him, gaze unwavering. He’s looking at Jimin like he’s the sunrise after a long night. It makes Jimin shudder. 

“I can show you pictures if you wanna see,” Jimin whispers. He drops his voice because he’s suddenly overwhelmed. The noise feels like it could break the moment, and he wants to live in the softness of it instead – the sound of the rain, Jeongguk’s breathing, his heartbeat in his ears. “I’ve had pretty much every color.” 

“I do,” Jeongguk agrees, nodding, “I wanna see.” 

“Right now?” giggles Jimin, reaching for his phone. 

Jeongguk stops him with a hand on top of his, the one on the back of his head turning their faces together. “No– after– Can I, please, hyung? Whatever you wanna do we can do, but, please, let me have you.” 

Jimin has to giggle again, unsure of why Jeongguk is so overwhelmed, why he’s begging as if Jimin wouldn’t drop anything just to be beneath him. He presses their lips together. “You have me, baby. You’re always asking me these questions you know the answer to. I want you, you have me, so take me.” 

“Jimin-hyung,” Jeongguk murmurs, finally raising both hands to Jimin’s face to cup both of his cheeks, “you really look so beautiful.” 

Jimin blushes furiously, even as Jeongguk kisses him. Weakly, against the softness and warmth of Jeongguk’s lips, he musters, “I always look this good,” but it falls flat against his rapid heartbeat in his ears. Jeongguk hasn’t called him beautiful since the first night they met, when he was leaning so cheekily into Jimin’s ear and working his way back to Jimin’s bed at home. 

They lose themselves in each other for a little while, hands wandering – Jimin’s tracing Jeongguk’s back and shoulders as Jeongguk’s fingers stay carding through the softness of Jimin’s silver, shimmery hair. Jeongguk seems to catch himself eventually, reminded of his bigger plans, and when he pulls away from the kiss he reaches for one of Jimin’s hands and laces their fingers together. 

Jimin’s heart only seems to go faster, and he has to take a moment for himself, staring down at his small fingers intertwined between Jeongguk’s, because it’s been so long since they held hands. He hasn’t let himself ever reach for it, no matter how badly he yearned to. He had thought it might be too much, but in this instant, he can’t believe the way they fit. 

Jeongguk pulls him to stand, and slowly they make their way down the hall, stopping to press one another against the wall to kiss. Their fingers don’t unlock the entire way, and Jimin doesn’t even realize that Jeongguk is taking him to his own bedroom instead of Jimin’s until they’re already there. Too caught up to overthink it, they fall into bed like it’s natural to be here, and Jimin is hit with a warm rush of memories of the two of them pressed up against each other in this bed, under Jeongguk’s fairy lights, giggling into each other’s shoulders. 

Jeongguk lays him down so gently, leaning over Jimin with his wavy hair falling into his bright eyes as he stares down at Jimin. Then he kisses him. He kisses him and kisses him and all they can hear is the sound of their lips meeting and the thunderstorm outside. “Jimin,” he starts, breathless, “Jimin, Jimin-hyung.” 

He’s on repeat, saying Jimin’s name over and over again like suddenly he can’t control the words slipping past his lips. 

“Baby,” Jimin murmurs from beneath him, patting a hand against his cheek, “what is it?” 

“I don’t know,” mumbles Jeongguk, pressing kisses to Jimin’s neck. “I just– you’re so beautiful.” 

Jimin blushes yet again, pushing his face into Jeongguk’s hand and shifting against the sheets. “You keep saying that.”

Jeongguk flashes him that gorgeous smile. “‘Cause I keep thinking it.”

 “Aish,” Jimin mumbles, trying to bury his face into the pillow. “You’re too much.” 

Jeongguk uses a finger to tilt Jimin’s head back up, lowering his weight more fully onto Jimin beneath him and caging him in with his arms. “Am I making you blush?” Jeongguk asks, skirting his lips Jimin’s jaw. 

“Shush, you,” says Jimin, craning his neck up for a kiss. Jeongguk indulges him, letting his hips drop into Jimin’s lap and kissing him hard. The rain picks up outside, splattering against Jeongguk’s window. They’d forgotten to turn the lights on when they walked in, but other than the string of lights glistening over Jeongguk’s bed, lightning flashes outside, and in brief seconds they’re painted yellow and blue. 

“What do you want, hyung?” asks Jeongguk. “Tell me.” 

He reaches beneath Jimin’s shirt and pushes it up his abdomen. He keeps one hand on Jimin’s face and the other runs up and down Jimin’s belly, along the line of his abs, circling his nipples. Jimin has to suck in a deep breath through his teeth, trying to compose himself in order to keep up that banter that he and Jeongguk always manage to have, even though there’s a part of him that just wants to let himself go right now. “You’re not gonna fuck me, baby?” 

Jeongguk rolls his hips down. “I will. Of course I will.” 

Jimin just blinks at him. “Then I want that.” 

“That’s it?” Jeongguk murmurs, hand running all the way up Jimin’s abdomen, beneath the collar of his shirt, petting at his neck. 

“M’not some picky brat, Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin whines through his pout. He sits up to pull his shirt over his head and resettles with his back against the headboard. He pries Jeongguk’s shirt off, too. “Just want you.” 

Jeongguk makes an excited little noise at Jimin’s words and then pushes his face into Jimin’s neck, wrapping him into a hug. “I love when you say that.” 

“I want you, Gguk,” Jimin murmurs, nudging Jeongguk’s side until he catches the hint and rolls off of Jimin. Jimin makes them trade places, settling on Jeongguk’s lap and moving his face slowly closer, repeating, “Want you, want you,” until their lips are brushing. 

They kiss again, but things have shifted. Jimin uses his new position on top of Jeongguk to grind down in his lap, and Jeongguk goes wild, twisting his fingers in Jimin’s hair and making sure he’s never too far away. Jimin’s not sure how long they kiss, but he winds up licking into Jeongguk’s mouth until both of their cocks are straining hard against their jeans. 

Jeongguk pulls back to card through Jimin’s hair more deliberately, the silvery strands falling through his fingers. Nosing up Jimin’s neck, he inhales the sweet scents of the shampoos they used to wash Jimin’s hair at the salon earlier. “You smell so good,” he says, giggling adorably. He’s so lovely that Jimin feels like he might burst with no place to put his feelings. 

“Should I go to the salon more often? Makes you so cute.” 

Jeongguk blinks at him, lips pink and eyes wide. “Jiminie-hyung thinks I’m cute?” 

Jimin pushes his face into Jeongguk’s shoulder. “Shhh, it’s a secret,” he whispers. 

He says it like a joke, but suddenly he feels ready to spill everything to Jeongguk right now, to speak his feelings just because he’s so overwhelmed by them. He doesn’t, of course. He swallows them down and pulls Jeongguk closer, going for the waistband of his joggers and slipping one hand in his briefs to palm at Jeongguk’s big cock. He hopes that touch will help override this feeling – he thinks it’s love, he thinks it’s euphoria. It’s all so much that he might break, and somehow they’re too close and not close enough all at once. He doesn’t know how else to describe it, he just knows that this sensation will only part once he finally speaks his heart. But now’s not the time for that, not when they’re swept in each other, stripping off their clothes, speaking in bodies like they only way they know how, in that habit they’ve created. 

 

mood: window – still woozy

 

It hits just a little bit too hard, because when Jeongguk goes to suck a bruise on his neck after they’ve finally worked their way out of their tight clothes, Jimin squirms beneath him. If Jeongguk bites down, it would be in the perfect spot for him to see when he looks at the mirror – and it’s too much. It’s a reminder that this isn’t what he wants it to be. 

Yet , he allows himself to think. 

“No, wait,” Jimin breathes. “No marks, okay?” 

Jeongguk moves his lips away hurriedly, meeting Jimin’s gaze with wide, worried eyes. “What?” he whispered, one hand subconsciously rubbing up and down Jimin’s side. “It’s never bothered you before.” 

Jimin goes to lie. He wants to make up some excuse about a presentation or a performance or something, but he falters. He can’t bear to lie to Jeongguk any more than he already has. 

“I just–” Jimim mumbles. “I like it too much.” 

Jeongguk blinks at him, petting the soft skin of his hip. “Hyung, what do you mean?” 

Jimin forces his face not to crumple, brushing his lips against Jeongguk’s cheek to console him. “Just no marks today, okay, Jeongguk? Please.” 

Jeongguk nods, forcing himself to understand. He pushes his face against the softness of Jimin’s lips, as if to feel his touch a little harder. “Okay, Jimin-hyung,” he replies. His hand grips desperately at Jimin’s waist. “Can I still kiss you?” 

 He looks so broken, and Jimin hates to think that Jeongguk might feel like he’s been rejected. That’s the last thing Jimin wants to do. He just wants to be able to handle himself, and tonight this all feels like so much. Jimin surges forward, cupping his jaw as he kisses him. 

“Of course,” breathes Jimin. “Kiss me wherever you want.” 

Jeongguk whines beneath him, their cocks brushing together. “Your lips, please. Just wanna kiss you.” 

Jimin has to stop his expression from falling further than it probably already has, and he puts his other hand on Jeongguk’s face, looking deeply in the eyes, trying to tell him that nothing’s changed. “Come here, baby. I still want you, okay? Want you so bad. Fuck me like you said you would.” 

“Yeah,” Jeongguk murmurs, and a semblance of a smile plays at his lips before Jimin kisses him. 

He keeps him close for a little while, doing his best to console him without words until he finally feels like Jeongguk has relaxed enough beneath him. Jimin reaches for his cock again, stroking him until he’s making soft sounds into Jimin’s mouth. 

“Touch me,” Jimin asks, once his cock is too hard against his stomach and all he can think of the way it feels when Jeongguk is inside of him, when their bodies are flush, when every movement of his hips touches that perfect spot inside of Jimin. 

“Want you so bad,” says Jeongguk as he lifts Jimin out of his lap and lays him down. He fucks Jimin quick with his fingers but keeps kissing him. They exchange no more words until Jimin is whining beneath him, grinding back on the long, thick length of Jeongguk’s fingers inside of him, making far more sounds than usual and not holding back how loudly they spill past his lips. 

There’s a moment when Jeongguk gently removes his fingers from Jimin’s hole and Jimin reopens his eyes from how they were closed in pleasure. When they lock their gazes on each other, for a second, Jimin feels like he doesn’t have to say anything at all. The eye contact seems to speak for itself. 

Jeongguk positions himself between Jimin’s legs, slicking up his cock and holding both of Jimin’s thighs. It’s not close enough. As soon as Jeongguk is all the way inside of him, Jimin throws his legs over Jeongguk’s shoulders, folds himself in half to be closer, ever closer to this person who he feels so much for. Jeongguk’s breath hitches at the new position, and he leans all the way over Jimin’s body, their chests flush, their mouths meeting like they’re never supposed to be apart. 

Even when their mouths do part ways, Jeongguk’s lips never still never leave him– and though they don’t suck and bite like they normally do, he skirts them gently along Jimin’s neck and by Jimin’s ear to whisper sweet things about how good he feels. It’s not the craziest sex they’ve ever had. Jimin isn’t begging in Jeongguk’s ear. Jeongguk’s hands aren’t tied above his head. But it feels good, good in a way sex hadn’t felt until Jeongguk, who Jimin knows so well, who he always wants, even in the aftermath, the warm glow, the coming down together and the words that follow. Jeongguk, who he never wants to be apart from. 

Maybe it’s the emotions burning up inside of Jimin’s chest that have seeped down to pool in his abdomen, but he doesn’t last long. He comes undone against Jeongguk’s strong body, fucking himself back against Jeongguk’s cock until he’s almost crying for it. He lets moans slip past his lips until Jeongguk has got a fist around Jimin’s length and is so sweetly asking him to let go. 

“Come for me, hyung,” he whispers, dragging his lips along the shell of Jimin’s ear. “You feel so good, look so beautiful. C’mon, my Jiminie.” 

All Jimin can muster is, “ Fuck, ” and then he’s falling apart, thighs trembling where they’re bent at the knee, Coming all over Jeongguk’s big fist with loud, breathy moans. With a loose hand still stroking Jimin’s oversensitive length, Jeongguk fucks Jimin until he reaches his own orgasm, kissing Jimin all the while. He doesn’t let his body relax until he’s gently lifted Jimin’s legs from atop his shoulders, and with a parting kiss, he slowly pulls out of Jimin to come to lie next to him. 

“Was so good,” Jimin tells him as he leans over to hand him a tissue from the nightstand. “You’re always so good, Jeongguk-ah.” 

Jeongguk wipes down his hand and tosses the tissue to the side before rolling onto his side, kissing Jimin all over again. “You’ll lay with me?” Jeongguk asks him, a clap of thunder shaking the whole room, reminding Jimin of the storm clouds that linger over the two of them. Looming in the sky are the heavy-topped cumulonimbus, fat with rain, making Jimin wonder if the sun will ever come back after it ends. In the meantime, lightning makes it all seem so pretty. The momentary beauty of it all. 

“Of course,” Jimin mumbles. “Good luck moving me.” 

Jeongguk throws an arm over Jimin’s waist. “Good luck escaping, more like.” 

Jimin giggles, and for the first time, unhesitatingly, he reaches for Jeongguk’s hand and interlaces their fingers. Jimin stares at the place where their bodies connect, and a sudden chill runs over him. The storm has made the room dark and colder than usual, and Jeongguk reaches for the fuzzy blanket folded at the end of the bed and pulls it over both of them. Jimin takes their hidden hands and plops them on top of the blanket so he can continue to stare. He uses his other index finger to trace over the four letters on Jeongguk’s knuckles. 

MONO. 

It’s clearly Namjoon written into his skin, the first collection of poetry he’d turned into his songs. It’s his diary, his lifeline, every honest piece of him spelt out in four letters. 

“You’d do that?” Jimin asks, knowing Jeongguk will understand with just a few words. “Get a tattoo for someone?” 

It’s the exact opposite of how Jimin feels. He’s someone who feels so much and loves so hard – but when it comes to people, he’s afraid of their failing permanency, the way they might leave, how he might not do them justice. 

Jeongguk lifts both of their hands to study his own tattoo. “I mean, yeah,” he says simply. “I don’t know why I wouldn’t.” 

“What if you fall out?” Jimin wonders quietly, voice hushed. 

Jeongguk shrugs, squeezing Jimin’s hand. “Doesn’t matter. That’ll never change the way he’s helped me up until now.” 

Jimin hums. He loves that Jeongguk thinks like that. Their hearts are so very different, and yet Jimin can’t help but think that when he gets to see Jeongguk fully stripped bare, there’s so much of himself that wants to be like Jeongguk. He wants to learn Jeongguk and then learn from him. He knows that when the two of them peel back all of their layers, they’re the type of people who can grow because of each other, and hopefully, with each other. 

“I think you’re right,” Jimin replies. “I like that.” 

Even in the dim light, fairy lights painting little shadows all over them, Jeongguk’s smile is so dazzling. 

“So are we talking about tattoos now?” Jeongguk asks cheekily, turning onto his side and trailing his fingers beneath the blanket to trace over the big letters plastered on Jimin’s ribcage. His hand moves so gently, and his eyes trace the goosebumps that appear along Jimin’s torso. 

“If you want to,” Jimin murmurs. 

“‘Nevermind,’ hm?” 

“I feel like the meaning is obvious,” Jimin replies. “It’s just a message to myself… to keep going, y’know? Nevermind how bad things are, keep going, keep doing the things I love.” He chuckles wryly. “I guess sometimes I don’t take my own advice.” 

 

mood: bedroom – litany 

 

Jeongguk flashes a grin at him, coming to kiss the corner of Jimin’s mouth. “We’re both guilty of that, though.” 

Jimin, filled with a fondness that blooms so big that it takes up his entire chest, chuckles, kissing Jeongguk again. “Very true. Now tell me about another one, you have way more than me.” 

“Sure,” Jeongguk replies, turning onto his back again and stretching out so most of his ink is on display. He doesn’t let go of Jimin’s hand. “Pick one.” 

Jimin uses the opportunity to touch Jeongguk again, propping himself up and running fingers all over the smoothness of Jeongguk’s skin, even in the places without tattoos. He stops on Jeongguk’s forearm, tracing more words and the outline of a thick-lined skeletal hand. 

“‘Rather be dead than cool?’” Jimin asks. 

Jeongguk chuckles. “It’s not so literal. Like yours–” Jeongguk says, touching Jimin’s rib cage again, “–it’s just something I like to remind myself of. I just want to stick to my values, y’know? I’d rather… try to be the version of myself that I want to be, not some idea of what I should be, or what people expect me to be.” 

Jimin nods in understanding, tracing the butterfly on Jeongguk’s hand but not bothering to ask about it. Sometimes pretty things don’t need to be anything other than that. Beauty for the sake of beauty. He stops on the big rectangle on the inside of Jeongguk’s arm. It’s a tarot card – the lovers. Unlike the rest of his tattoos, this piece is highlighted with splashes of red. 

“I didn’t think you’d be into stuff like this,” Jimin says, outlining the two bodies inside of the card with his fingertip. 

Jeongguk blushes, pushing his nose to brush against Jimin’s cheek before stealing a kiss. “I like the meaning of the actual card more than I’m into… spiritual stuff like that. But I do believe in fate, and love, and destiny. Stuff like that.” 

Jimin hums, but he can’t deny the hope that sparks in him. 

Jeongguk pokes him in the chest, but kisses him yet again, speaking against his lips. “Your turn. You’re overdue, I did two.” 

Jimin chuckles. “Pick one, then.” 

“Well, this one is your birthday, right?” he asks, touching the number 13 on the inside Jimin’s wrist. Jimin nods. “Okay, so what about this?” 

He stops on the X at the juncture of Jimin’s forearm. 

“Ah, another reminder,” Jimin chuckles. “I guess I get boring tattoos. It’s a lot of things. A way of telling myself no. A way of grounding myself. It’s a lot. I think I change the meaning based on how I feel.” He laughs again. “Maybe it doesn’t mean anything at all.” 

“Isn’t it cool?” Jeongguk asks happily, carding through Jimin’s silver hair. “Tattoos are so cool. They’re like… the only thing where we get to decide what they mean and how we feel about them, and no one can tell us otherwise. I think that’s part of why I like them.”  

They go over a few more – the tigerlily on Jeongguk’s arm, the word “lie” written above Jimin’s elbow, but their conversation shifts eventually. It’s too early to sleep, so they spend the rest of the night together. They manage to drag themselves out of bed at some point, Jimin throwing on one of Jeongguk’s big shirts as they scavenge the kitchen for food that doesn’t require real cooking. Then they fall back into bed again, staring out the window at the relentless storm and letting it feel like the rain is washing over their bodies instead of just their apartment building. Their hands and limbs find each other once more, fucking again, exchanging another round of hushed words, Jeongguk repeating the word “beautiful” like he’s talking to summer itself. 

And then they sleep, tucked under Jeongguk’s duvet, bodies fitted together like lovers. They’re perfectly imperfect, finding each other’s curves like the way the moon’s shadow fits against Earth’s gleaming light. 

They wake up slow to a kind of quiet they hadn’t had the night before, with sunlight streaming through Jeongguk’s window and no rain splattering against the side of the building. Jimin opens his eyes to a mess of black hair pressed into his neck and a big, strong body halfway on top of his. 

“Ugh, Jeongguk,” Jimin mutters, shoving him a little bit. “Your hair is basically in my mouth.” 

Jeongguk groans into Jimin’s skin, pressing a kiss there and fluttering his eyelashes in soft little butterfly kisses to get Jimin giggling. “But you’re so comfy, hyung,” 

“Can’t a different part of me be comfy?” Jimin whines.

“Are you gonna let me kiss you even though it’s the morning?” Jeongguk asks, raising a finger to Jimin’s lips to run his fingertip along them. “You have perfect pillow lips. Extremely comfy.” 

Jimin laughs, low and rough with sleep. He didn’t know he could be this happy just after waking up. “You can kiss me.” 

Jeongguk does, of course. He kisses Jimin deeply without parting his lips and tangles their legs. When he pulls back, he leans over Jimin and stares down at his body cast in the shadowy pattern formed by sunlight challenging the blinds. He starts to trace over Jimin’s skin, naked again from when they’d had sex before sleeping, and Jimin just lets him, closing his eyes still weighed heavy with sleep. 

“Your hair looks pretty in the sunlight,” Jeongguk murmurs, pushing it off of Jimin’s forehead. “How are you so pretty when you just woke up?”

“Mmm,” Jimin groans, half asleep with the sun lulling him back into his dreams. “Natural born talent.” 

“You’re literally liquid silver now,” Jeongguk whispers. “All fluid and shiny. Can’t imagine what you’d look like when you dance.” 

Jimin just lets Jeongguk talk, too sleepy and content to think about responding. He can’t think too hard, not when he just awoke in a dream that’s carrying over into his morning. If he lets his mind get too alert, he’ll notice all of the details of this moment and try to understand what they mean. He’ll probably panic. Jeongguk’s fingers walk along Jimin’s abdomen and then linger at his hips before withdrawing sharply, accompanied by a quiet inhale, harsh through Jeongguk’s nose. 

Jimin snaps his eyes open, and he sees Jeongguk’s fingers hovering over bruises, shaped like his own fingers pressing into Jimin’s hips. 

“Hyung…” Jeongguk whimpers. “I’m so sorry… I didn’t…” 

Then it clicks for Jimin. He’d told Jeongguk not to leave bruises last night. 

“Baby,” Jimin murmurs, taking Jeongguk’s hand and lacing their fingers so he doesn’t have to watch the way it hesitates over his skin. “Relax. It’s okay. I think those ones were already there.” 

Between the position they were in last night and the color of the marks, plus the fact that Jeongguk was being so very careful with him last night, he truly doubts that they’re recent. 

“But, you told me not to,” Jeongguk replies. 

Jimin squeezes his hand and then rolls Jeongguk onto his back to clamber into his lap, as sleepy as he may be. The sun covers them in light and warmth, the blanket no match for the energy being pushed and pulled between them. Taking Jeongguk’s other hand into his, he presses their arms gently against the bed and noses against his cheek. “Shh, Gguk-ah. It’s fine, okay? I promise. I would tell you if I was mad.” 

He leaves a light kiss on the corner of Jeongguk’s mouth. 

“Okay,” says Jeongguk, still looking upset with himself. 

Jimin nudges his jaw with his forehead. “C’mon. Give me a kiss, yeah?” Pursing his lips with his silver hair falling all over his eyes, he gets Jeongguk to laugh. “And then you can make me breakfast,” he tacks on, just for the giggles that accompany. 

Jeongguk pecks him before he lets go of his hands just to grip his waist, thumbs pushing into Jimin’s hip bones but avoiding the bruises there. “Oh my god,” he laughs fondly. “You’re too much.” 

Jimin just shrugs playfully, stretching his arms over his head which flexes the muscles lining his abdomen. He watches Jeongguk lick his lips. “You’re gonna do it though,” Jimin teases. 

Jeongguk rolls his eyes, but he reaches a hand up to Jimin’s head to thread his fingers in his silvery hair and pull him down for a kiss. “Yeah,” Jeongguk agrees. “I am.” He pauses for a moment, just blinking in the morning light as he stares up at Jimin. Shadows cast all over his face. He’s so gorgeous that Jimin feels like he might lose his breath without moving an inch. “You’re still just as beautiful today, by the way.” 

 

☾ ☾ ☾

 

mood: daydreaming – milky chance, tash sultana 

 

When things become too much, he goes to Namjoon. Although, it’s Wednesday, and he’d be coming to Namjoon anyway. They’re at their usual spot, tucked comfortably into their usual seats, drinking their usual drinks. It’s only a little bit different, because this time, when Jimin sees Namjoon flip through his notebook just like he always does, he catches glimpses of sketches and words from the era before this. When he catches sight of mono., he can’t help but think of Jeongguk. 

He skims through his own pages, and he notices how much fuller his notebook is than it was a few months ago. He hasn’t tried to read anything back yet. He’s not ready for that, but he’s also not so sure he needs to. It might just make him doubt himself more, and that definitely won’t help him organize his headspace. Right now, he’s hoping for sure footing and a place to rest. Something to stop his heart from being overactive in his chest. 

Namjoon breaks the quiet that had settled over them after getting their drinks, flashing him an easy smile punctuated with two dimples, one for each cheek acting like periods, turning every sentence Namjoon says into fact. “Your hair looks good,” he says warmly. 

If Jimin had any doubt before, just like that, it’s gospel. 

“Mm, you think?” Jimin murmurs, running his hand through it. “I’m liking it. It feels good.” 

“Yeah,” Namjoon replies. “You always looked good with cool tones.” 

Jimin cocks his head, thinking of all of the pictures he’d swiped through with Jeongguk pressed into his side the other night and the myriad of colors that had once graced his head. “Really? Taehyung says he misses the pink.” 

Namjoon shrugs. “He’s flashier than me.” 

Namjoon actually looks flashier than usual today, in cream plaid pants with a peach colored accent and a shirt tucked into his waistband. 

“But what about me?” Jimin wonders, carding through his hair again. “Isn’t this about my hair?” 

Namjoon fails to stifle a smirk. “Well, Jeongguk said he likes it.”

“Ha,” Jimin exhales, no match against the blush that appears on his cheeks. “Did he?” He rubs a nervous hand on the back of his neck. “Yeah, he seemed to like it.” 

Namjoon smiles into his coffee cup, and when he sets it down, the porcelain clinking against its accompanying plate, he asks, “How are you guys?” 

“Me and Jeongguk?” Jimin blurts, as if it could be about anyone else. 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh,” Jimim mumbles casually. “I don’t know. We’re fine, I guess.” He pauses. “We’re good.” 

Namjoon looks at him like he was expecting more, face unimpressed. Because he’s Namjoon, he doesn’t pry, but he does press. “That’s good. You seem happier.” 

Jimin gives in. There’s no point in trying not to open up. It’s half the reason he was so excited to see Namjoon today. If he’s not going to talk about all of this to Jeongguk, he knows he needs to talk about it to someone , and when it comes to matters of the heart, Namjoon will probably always be his first choice. 

“I am,” he says. “I am happier. I mean… it’s nice not to be fighting anymore, y’know? But I…” 

He trails off, and Namjoon cocks his head. “Hm?” he hums, egging Jimin on gently. 

Jimin sighs. “I don’t know how long I can keep doing what we’re doing without talking to him.” 

Namjoon bites his lip to stop his grin. “So you still like him?”

Jimin gives him a stale look. “I never stopped. I thought that was obvious.”

Namjoon chuckles and takes another sip of his coffee. “Well, yeah. But I’m not gonna go and assume your feelings.” 

Jimin pulls another face, rolling his eyes. 

“Anyway,” Namjoon continues, tapping his pen on the table. “What are you waiting for? Just talk to him.” 

“How?” Jimin whines, crossing his arms over his chest. “We don’t talk about anything.” 

Namjoon’s face grows a little disappointed, like he’s saddened that Jimin would think of his relationship with Jeongguk as so superficial. “That’s not true. You can’t be in love with someone you don’t talk to,” Namjoon argues. 

Jimin’s expression sours. Even though he uses that word in his head, it feels odd to hear someone else say it. It makes him realize how plainly and clearly it must be written on his face. He’s in love with Jeongguk. Of course he is. It’s been a long time coming – no wonder Namjoon can see it in his eyes. 

He protests it anyway, though failingly. “I never said that I’m in–”

Namjoon cuts him off by lifting one finger. “My word choice is incidental. My point is, you wouldn’t want to be with someone who you feel like you don’t know. Just because you don’t talk about your feelings toward each other, doesn’t mean you don’t talk about your feelings about other things. It’s the same premise. Sharing feelings isn’t just a matter of romantic ones.” 

Jimin bites the inside of his cheek, not so certain that he agrees, even though he wants to. Maybe he’s just not letting himself. That wouldn’t be so out of the ordinary. “Don’t you think that’s a little reductive? Or at least a little too easy? I mean… there’s so much less risk in talking about other things.” 

Namjoon cocks an eyebrow, and then looks down at one of the pages of his notebook, clearly taken by Jimin’s assertion. “Is there?” Namjoon wonders aloud. “I don’t know. I think the way you communicate about other things can matter so much more. If you love someo– I mean, if there’s someone in your life who you care about deeply, you want to be able to understand them. To listen to them and their feelings. If you can’t do that, or if you don’t do that, or if you take the leap to reveal an aspect of yourself and the other person doesn’t like it, isn’t that the scary part? Confessions are just the affirmation… Usually, or at least I think so, it’s already decided inside of your head. Right?” 

Jimin stays silent, Namjoon’s words a little bit too much to bear. He’s probably right. But there’s a part of Jimin that’s still hesitant to admit that, because he’s holding on to the past so tightly. He can’t move forward with the idea that Jeongguk likes him while continuing not to know why he denied Jimin in the first place. 

“Look,” Namjoon continues, studying the worry lines that have appeared on Jimin’s forehead. “What I’m trying to say is that you know you like Jeongguk whether or not he likes you back, and the reason why you can be sure of that is because you already know him well enough to feel that way. Being vulnerable and sharing parts of yourself, even the ugly parts, all while knowing that someone might like you less because of them – that’s the terrifying part. The thrill of love, maybe?” He chuckles, then reaches across the table to pry Jimin’s arms apart from across his chest and squeezes one of his hands. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t talk about your feelings for each other, because you should. And you deserve closure, because I know Jeongguk has hurt you. All I’m saying, Jimin-ah, is maybe you should be a little less worried about how it’s all going to turn out.” 

He flashes a kind, warm, striking smile, and he squeezes Jimin’s hand again. “You’ve made it this far.” 

Namjoon lets Jimin sit with his words, and Jimin’s mind does a good job of drowning out the sounds of the café in exchange for his thoughts. Looking down at the hands that Jeongguk has begun to hold so often now, Jimin rewinds time and realizes just how much ugliness he’s shown Jeongguk. He’s given him the bitter side. The angry side. The petty, frustrated side whose patience runs so thin. The side of him who’s afraid to have the things he wants for fear that he might not do them justice, or that they might leave. The side of him that’s terrified of breaking something down into so many little pieces that he’ll turn it unloveable. 

Jeongguk has seen all of that. Yet, he still comes to Jimin. Has always come to Jimin. He still crawls into Jimin’s bed, or, lately, drags Jimin to his own. He still kisses Jimin. He asks how Jimin’s day was, sometimes with drawn out words or quick lipsed ones. Other times he asks with just a look. Jeongguk has seen so much, and Jimin hadn’t even realized how much he’s shown him until now. 

“It’ll be okay, Jimin-ah,” Namjoon murmurs eventually, making Jimin realize how long he’s been staring at his hands in his lap with stinging eyes. 

He snaps his head up. “No, you’re right.” He takes a deep breath. “Um, thank you, Namjoon-hyung.” 

Namjoon smiles at him easily, sunlight filtering through parting clouds. “Of course.” 

Jimin doesn’t think he can elaborate on his feelings right now, he only accepts them at face value. But he doesn’t think that Namjoon is expecting him to, so Jimin takes the go-ahead to change the subject. Drumming his fingernails on the table excitedly, he shifts forward in his seat to chirp, “So, when are you gonna confess to Yoongi? Gguk says you two are always together. Gonna take your own advice?” 

Namjoon gives him a dirty look. “Don’t act like our situations are the same. Me and Yoongi-hyung have been friends for years and haven’t had the months of continuous sexual activity to really solidify that… sense of intimacy between us that you and Jeongguk have.” 

Jimin clicks his tongue. “You don’t need to fuck to be intimate.”

Namjoon stares at him blankly, so Jimin starts whining and chattering. “Come on, just get him in the studio, show him some of the lyrics you have about him, and then, I don’t know, bend him over the couch or something.” 

“Jeez, Jimin-ah,” breathes Namjoon.

Proudly, Jimin sticks out his chin. “Am I wrong?” 

“I thought you just said you don’t need to fuck to be intimate.” 

Jimin wrinkles his brow, thinking on it. “Well, you don’t. It’s fun, though.” 

Namjoon shakes his head at him. “You’re too much.”

Jimin winks. 

“Anyway,” Namjoon grits firmly. “It’s not that simple. We’re partners. I don’t want to make it weird.” 

Jimin just shrugs, waves a hand around. “It’s not weird to like someone you admire, hyung.”

For a split second, Namjoon looks like he’s slapped in the face with some of his own advice. “I guess not. I just don’t want anything I say or do to get in the way.” 

Jimin laughs, propping his chin on his hand. “Isn’t that what love does, though? It gets in the way. Not for better or for worse, but, there it is.” He chuckles again. “Anyway, hyung, you still haven’t let me meet him, so I can’t even say if he’s good for you or not.” 

Namjoon looks at him deviously, teasing. He sticks out his tongue. “Ask Jeongguk to introduce you.” 

“Why would I do that if I have you?” Jimin exclaims preposterously. 

Namjoon shrugs his shoulders, feigning coy. “I’m just saying if you’re that desperate to meet him, you have options.”

“Well, all I’m saying is that when you and him are together and happily in love, I have full rights to say I told you so.”

Namjoon stares him down before looking away, coughing under his breath, “Yeah, well… I could say the same for you and Jeonggukie.” 

Jimin scowls.

Namjoon scowls.

And they both burst out into the chime of a joint laughter. 

 

☾ ☾ ☾

 

mood: butterfly (prologue edition) – bts 

 

Jimin is still in his dance clothes when there’s a knock on his bedroom door. He’s been pouring over a notebook for the past hour trying to desperately turn the choreography he’d practiced today into something worth repeating, but it doesn’t take much more than an interruption to get him to give up for the evening. Nothing good has been coming to him anyway. 

“Come in,” he murmurs, pushing his hood down from his head and trying to fix his unparted, messy silver hair that’s falling flat on his forehead. 

Jeongguk enters not a second later, but Jimin knew it was him. Taehyung never knocks, and Jeongguk has yet to realize that he no longer needs to. There’s almost nothing that would make Jimin turn him away. Jimin flashes a smile despite the frustration that’s been wracking his brain from work, but the one Jeongguk gives him in return is weak. 

Jimin studies him a little closer, and he notices that Jeongguk’s stature is smaller than usual. His smile has fallen already, and his mouth sits in a straight line. His eyebrows are coming together in the middle of his forehead, and Jimin realizes that he’s nervous. He’s tense and tight, and Jimin almost failed to recognize it because he hasn’t been this way in front of Jimin in so long. His hands are tucked into the big pocket at the front of the hoodie he’s wearing, but through the fabric Jimin can still see the way they’re fiddling. He’s probably pulling on his fingers or cracking his knuckles. 

“Hi, Gguk,” Jimin says softly. 

Jeongguk’s head cocks as they make eye contact, his soft hair swishing in front of his eyes. “You okay, hyung? You look upset.” 

Jimin had almost forgotten that he was in an uptight mood, because it had disappeared with concern as soon as he saw the look on Jeongguk’s face. “I’m fine,” Jimin murmurs warmly, “just frustrated. But I could say the same for you. What’s up?” 

Jeongguk shakes his head, looking away. He mumbles his words. “Don’t worry about me. I’m just a little anxious, not upset.” 

“How come?” Jimin asks as he stands. He holds a hand out. “And come here, you’re too far away. I haven’t seen you all day.” 

That gets Jeongguk to smile, and even if it’s not as wide as usual one and his pretty dimples don’t form in his cheeks, it’s enough for Jimin. Jeongguk pads over to him by the desk chair, and Jimin wraps his outstretched arm around Jeongguk immediately, pulling him into a tight hug. Jeongguk wriggles his hands from his sweatshirt pocket and throws his arms over Jimin’s shoulders, and Jimin speaks into his neck. 

“Why are you anxious?” Jimin asks again, stroking Jeongguk’s back soothingly. 

“Why are you upset?” Jeongguk counters. His hands have come up to card through Jimin’s hair, and though he says cheeky words like he normally would, his tone doesn’t match. 

“Ah, just unhappy with my work, y’know? It’s not turning out the way I want it to.”

Jeongguk hums by Jimin’s ear soothingly, his lips brushing the shell of it. “I’m sure it’s great, hyung,” he says as he steps back from the hug. “I’m sorry you’re feeling frustrated though.” His eyes dart all over the place, and as soon as his body is not pressed against Jimin’s anymore, his hands disappear into his pocket again. 

“Jeongguk-ah…” Jimin says slowly, worriedly. Jeongguk looks like he’s about to jump out of his own skin. Jimin feels like Jeongguk’s anxiety is being transferred over to him, and forms a knot in his stomach. “You’re making me nervous. What’s wrong?” 

Jeongguk’s eyes fixate on something behind Jimin. “Seriously, it’s nothing,” he chuckles. “I just work myself up sometimes.” 

Jimin waits for their gazes to lock again, keeping his tone lighthearted when he says, “I know.” 

There’s a heavy pause, filled by the faint sound of Jeongguk’s hands turning over in his pocket. Eventually, he sucks in a hard breath and says, “I um. I have something for you.” 

Jimin raises his eyebrows. He can’t say that he saw that coming. “For me?” 

Jeongguk nods, looking down. “Yeah, um…” He fiddles in his pocket for a moment longer, and then one of his big hands emerges, pulling out a simple black flashdrive. There’s a jaggedly ripped piece of tape plastered onto it, marked by Jeongguk’s block-letter scrawl. It reads BUTTERFLY. He bites at his bottom lip and sucks it into his mouth before speaking again. “It’s a song. I, uh. I made this for you – not alone! My hyungs helped me, but I thought, well, if you need something new to dance to, you could try this? If you want… I don’t know, maybe it was a bad idea, but. Yeah. Here.” 

He frees his other hand to rub the back of his head nervously and then reaches for Jimin, who has frozen in place. Delicately, he grabs Jimin’s wrist and places the flash drive in the center of his palm before using both of his hands to curl Jimin’s fingers into a closed fist. He rests his hands on top of Jimin’s small one for an instant, squeezing tight, then dropping it back to Jimin’s side. 

Jimin doesn’t react. He simply clenches his fingers around the flash drive, warm from how much Jeongguk was playing with it in his pocket, and stares. His mind is inundated with questions, all of them about what this means, how the song sounds, why Jeongguk is doing this, and he can’t figure out where to start. It takes about thirty seconds of Jeongguk’s worried eyes watching Jimin and waiting for a reaction until Jimin bursts promptly into tears.

Jeongguk’s eyes widen with anxiety as soon as he sees Jimin start to cry, but he makes no effort to reach out and touch him, seemingly frozen too. Jimin tries to keep his composure; if he let everything spill out right now he’d be a sobbing mess. He’d collapse to the ground, if he let everything hit him at once. Instead of his chest wracking and sounds slipping past his lips, silent tears stream down his face and cling to his jaw before plopping to his shirt. He doesn’t want to be crying, but it feels out of his hands. It feels like the weather – the storm is here before he even knew it was coming. 

The emotions that have been sitting, growing, building, and blooming in his chest seem to escape him little by little, drop by drop. 

“Jeongguk-ah,” he finally chokes out, voice tight. “What? What is this? Why did you do this?” 

This, the tiny flash drive with a song probably no longer than five minutes, means so much more. It’s more than all of the begrudging gestures, the laundry, the lunches. It’s more than the surface sweet words, more than being called beautiful. It’s more than every touch and every fuck. For whatever reason, this, the song in his hand, crosses the line. Jeongguk crafted this during a time when he was struggling to craft anything at all. He poured his time and effort into his work for Jimin. 

It’s more than any other thing Jeongguk could do for him, and it leaves Jimin needing to know the reason. It’s the only question that feels right to ask. He can’t stand not asking anymore – and not just about this. About everything. 

Jeongguk’s eyes seem to grow even more worried, widening again from how they’d relaxed slightly, his eyebrows knitting. “What– what do you mean?” 

Jimin’s bottom lip wobbles, a sob threatening to push past his lips. His defenses, perfectly trained to protect his heart, go up without him asking. His words come out of his mouth as if he’s not in control of them, and he speaks like he and Jeongguk have gone suddenly back in time, saying things that he knows are no longer true. It hurts Jeongguk, and he regrets them as soon as they’re past his lips. 

“It’s just– you were supposed to hate me. You used to–” 

Jeongguk, wrapped up in his perpetual anxiety, starts crying, too. He rubs at his eyes furiously as if that can stop them from leaking, clearly out of his depth when it comes to handling the things that Jimin is throwing at him. Here he was, trying to bare his heart to Jimin, and Jimin’s twisting it on the spot. 

“You really… you really still think that?” Jeongguk whispers. “That I hated you? I haven’t left you in weeks.” 

Jimin bites his lip, thumbing away some of the wetness that’s clinging to his chin. “I know, but, really never? You never hated me?” 

Jeongguk shakes his head vehemently, stepping forward like he wants to reach out and pull Jimin into his chest. “Hyung,” he breathes, “not even for a second.” 

“What?” Jimin exhales, voice disbelieving. The room feels like it’s spinning around him, like the Earth’s axis has shifted another few degrees on its tilt and Jimin should be falling to the floor. “You’re saying, all this time… we could have–”

“Fuck!” Jeongguk exclaims in a harsh whisper, bringing a hand to his hair. He calms his voice. “Fuck. Can we just? Go somewhere, y’know, go somewhere to talk?” He looks around Jimin’s bedroom and almost seems to wince. “I can’t do it here.” 

Jimin sees his own bed out of the corner of his eye, and immediately he agrees. This room has too many stories in it that would talk over whatever the two of them are going to try to say. “Yeah. That’s a good idea.” He looks from his feet back to Jeongguk, and very quietly, he asks, “Have you been to the roof yet? It’s nice.” 

Sniffling, Jeongguk shakes his head. 

Jimin tries to compose himself a little further, straightening his shoulders and smoothing out the velvet of his sweatshirt. “C’mon. Let’s go.” He hesitates, but he realizes that this isn’t the moment for that. Neither of them can hold back, or they’re never going to get anywhere. Tucking the flash drive into his pocket, he holds out his palm for Jeongguk to take. He watches Jeongguk’s hand drift closer to his, the nervous little butterfly on his skin looking like it’s about to take off and fly away. They tangle their fingers, and in silence they go to the roof. 

A tension looms over them as they walk quietly up the five flights of stairs, sniffles echoing throughout the shaft of the stairwell. Neither of them are crying anymore, at the very least. On top of their building, they separate their hands to sit. Their legs sprawl out before them, and the only parts of their bodies that touch are their ankles. Above them is a moon just shy of full, and below them is Yeonnam, their lively neighborhood producing enough sound that the silence isn’t as unbearable as it probably would have been inside. The tension between them is thicker and more tense than it has been in weeks. 

Jimin speaks up eventually, knowing that the longer they take to break the ice again the thicker its surface will become. “Jeongguk-ah,” he murmurs nervously, “can I be frank? I don’t know how else to do this.” 

Jeongguk’s eyes flash toward Jimin’s face and then dart away again. “Yeah, um. Go ahead.” 

Jimin inhales. This is the precipice, and no matter how many times he’s thought about what it will be like to dive head first off of the edge, it never becomes any easier. It’s cliché, but the only thought that runs through his mind is, here goes nothing. For the first time in his life, he’s choosing to take his whole heart and give it away, only with hopes that it might come back to him safely. On his exhale, words drawn out as if saying them carefully will somehow affect Jeongguk’s response, he says, “The night we met… you had fun, right?” 

Jeongguk turns to him hurriedly, as wide-eyed as ever, nodding ardently. “Hyung–”

Jimin cuts him off with a hand to the knee, already somewhat consoled by Jeongguk’s reaction but wanting to finish his question. Jeongguk snatches up his palm immediately, not tangling their fingers but simply leaving his hand resting on top of Jimin’s. Jimin glances down at Jeongguk’s inked knuckles, and then he asks, “If that’s true, why didn’t you text me back?”

To say it out loud sounds so stupid. It makes him feel young and naive. The question almost seems trivial, like a petty problem that should dull next to all of the emotions he and Jeongguk have shared together. But it’s the starting point. And no matter how ridiculous the words sound leaving his mouth, he knows that this is where this conversation has to begin. 

Jeongguk chews the inside of his cheek, and looking at Jimin with shiny, red-rimmed eyes, he squeezes Jimin’s hand. “Will you be patient with me?” he asks. “I’m not very good with words.” 

Jimin gives him a gentle smile, and regardless of all of the turmoil churning inside of him, it’s not forced. Jeongguk can have everything from him, even if it’s the smallest of smiles when his mouth feels set in a firm line. 

Jeongguk takes a deep breath, and his free hand starts twisting the fabric of his pants. “When I didn’t text you back… it was on purpose. It’s not because I didn’t like you, so please don’t think that. I think I liked you so much that it scared me.” 

Jimin’s face erupts into a grin, because he felt almost exactly the same way. But he watches Jeongguk’s expression twitch with a smile, and then it falls again, almost like he feels that he’s not supposed to be happy at this moment.

 Jimin interrupts him. 

“Gguk-ah?” murmurs Jimin. Jeongguk lifts his gaze to Jimin from where his eyes were trained on the street below their building, filled with people walking around, couples on dates and groups of boys messing around. “I don’t mean to cut you off so suddenly, but before you keep going, I want you to know that I almost didn’t text you, either. I was afraid of how much I liked you, too.” He pauses, now feeling a little awkward. “I just… wanted to say that, so maybe you’ll feel a little better.” 

Jeongguk’s lips quirk up. “Thank you,” he whispers. He clears his throat, and continues. This time when he speaks, he looks at Jimin. “When I got your texts, they made me so happy. But I was scared. I was dealing with so much, between Yoongi telling me I needed to figure out where I was going to live, to, to, struggling with art and my major, and thinking about meeting new people. My head was kind of a mess. I don’t know how else to put it. I liked you so much when I met you, but I guess being drunk and then thinking about you so much the next day, I’d convinced myself that I’d made it up in my head?” 

He shakes his head, pinching his thigh. Jimin fits their palms together so he can squeeze Jeongguk’s hand. “No, that sounds wrong. I didn’t doubt you and how amazing you were. It was a me thing. Like, you were so gorgeous, and confident, and so easy to be around. I know I already said it, but I just felt scared of how much I liked you, that I couldn’t confront it? Because I was so comfortable around you that night, and I’m not– I’m not a comfortable person, y’know?” 

He swallows heavily, and Jimin simply continues to listen. He can tell that Jeongguk isn’t done yet, but he knows that no comforting words will help him through his explanation. Jimin just sits and waits, holding his hand and hoping his eyes are gentle enough that Jeongguk feels okay to keep going. 

After a momentary pause, Jeongguk continues. “I didn’t feel confident enough to answer you, because I thought, what if you don’t like me the next day? Or what if you don’t like the other parts of me? And I know. I know that that’s not for me to decide, and that’s why I felt so guilty about it all. But I was already so anxious about so many other things.” Jeongguk begins to frown, eyes looking watery again as he stumbles through his emotions. “Like, I thought, maybe if we’d met at a different time, I wouldn’t have reacted that way. But I did, and I’m sorry… because it made such a mess. I also didn’t think I’d see you again, so when I did, I didn’t know what to do with myself.” 

 

mood: repeat – young the giant 

 

Jimin takes a deep breath. His heart is rapidfire in his chest, but he wants to hear everything before reacting. His mind works a little bit faster than he can manage, but he refuses to jump to conclusions, and so far, he thinks he understands where Jeongguk is coming from. Any anger he wants to hold onto, he forces himself to let go of. He’s really not mad, he just wants to work things out naturally with everything on the table, and more importantly, he wants to let Jeongguk talk. 

“Okay,” Jimin says gently. He tries to frame his question as compassionately as he can, but there’s no real way to put it other than bluntly. “So did you think that ignoring me would be better than turning me down?” 

Jeongguk chuckles awkwardly, sparing Jimin a smile and letting his thumb run back and forth on Jimin’s. “It’s stupid,” he mumbles. “I was so anxious. I knew that I couldn’t handle a relationship at the time, but I also wanted it. So I thought… if I don’t say no, maybe I’ll have a chance in the future?” He hands his head, twisting at his shirt. “It’s dumb. God.” 

“Hey,” Jimin says, giving him a stern look. Maybe Jeongguk thinks that Jimin won’t forgive him, even though so far, after hearing this, Jimin knows that he’s almost equally at fault for the mess they’ve made. “Stop beating yourself up, okay? We’re just talking.” He shifts their clasped palms to lace their fingers again, the pulses in their wrists resting against each other. “I’m not… going anywhere. We’re really just talking. I don’t think there’s a lot you could say to me right now to make me want you any less, okay? We still have a lot to talk about, but you’ve got me.” 

Jeongguk squeezes his eyes shut and shifts his body so that when he reopens them, he’s facing Jimin directly. Another bout of tears inch their way out of his eyes. “You still want me?” he asks quietly. “Even though…” 

He’s achingly vulnerable, and Jimin is so enraptured by him he can hardly believe it. There’s so much to Jeongguk, from the one sitting with his bleeding heart right in front of Jimin, to the same one who will crack his mischievous jokes and throw Jimin over his shoulder to carry him down the hallway. 

Jimin can’t imagine not wanting him. 

“Of course I still want you,” Jimin utters. “And of course I’m a little mad, but… I spent so much time mad at you before, without even knowing the full story. I don’t want to do that again. It took so much energy.” 

Jeongguk looks at Jimin with clear eyes, and when he speaks, Jimin is sure that he’s never, ever known anyone quite like him. “You can push me away.”

It’s obvious that Jeongguk doesn’t want that, yet he said it anyway. He’d give up this thing they’ve built if that was what it took for Jimin to forgive him. But Jimin doesn’t want that at all. All he wants is more. 

He shakes his head lightly. “No, I did that for so long already. If I was going to push you away, I’d still be doing it.” He lets a soft smile dance on his lips. “Now I just need to figure out how to… bring you closer.” 

“Okay,” Jeongguk says. “Okay.” He allows a laugh to spill past his mouth, but nothing’s funny. It’s the laughter of relief. Jimin knows he’s happy. Jeongguk comes a little closer, folding his legs beneath him and holding their tangled fingers with his other hand, so he can touch Jimin with as many points of contact that his palms can manage. “Is it the wrong time to ask to kiss you?” he asks shyly.

Jimin laughs, high and sweet, as endeared as ever. “No, it’s not a bad time. We can take a break.” 

He puts a hand on the side of Jeongguk’s neck, and beneath his palm and the warmth of Jeongguk’s skin, he can feel just how fast Jeongguk’s heartbeat is going as his pulse races in his veins. Jimin leans in to kiss him slowly, moving their lips easily together, wanting Jeongguk to relax. He lets it go on for a short while, feeling Jeongguk’s grip clinging to his hands between their laps and the quiet little gasps he lets out against Jimin’s lips. 

When they pull back, Jimin’s mind still swims with what feels like endless questions, butterflies still dance in his stomach like they always do after they kiss. He opens his eyes, and Jeongguk is finally smiling again. 

As he thinks of how to begin their conversation once more, his mind wanders to what Namjoon told him the other day over coffee. 

“Gguk,” says Jimin as he lowers his hand from Jeongguk’s neck. “I’m gonna ask you more questions, but first I want to tell you something.”

Jeongguk nods, giving him the go ahead. 

“Namjoon-hyung said something to me the other day that made me feel better. I think it might help you relax right now.” 

Eyebrows shooting up, Jeongguk blurts, “You talk to hyung about me?” 

Jimin grins fondly. “All the time.”

“I talk to him, too,” mumbles Jeongguk. 

Jimin giggles. “I know, Jeongguk-ah. Thank god for him, right?” 

Jeongguk manages to chuckle, and he finally lets go of Jimin’s hand to rub at his eyes. “Seriously. What did he say?” 

Jimin looks up above him at the cloudy night sky, the moon, and the few faint stars. Then he turns back to Jeongguk to speak. “He reminded me that no matter how much we haven’t told each other yet, even if we still haven’t talked about our feelings, there’s still so much that we have shared.” He smiles warmly, bracing himself to let loose in a way he usually isn’t. “And it reminded me that I trust you. I know you, and you know me. We just, ah, how do I put this. We just had a different way of learning each other.” 

Jeongguk sniffles, finding Jimin’s hand again and holding it in his lap. “I trust you, too. You’re so patient with me.” 

Jimin snorts, chuckling, because he can’t help it. Jeongguk is too sweet for his own good. “ You’re the one who’s patient with me. I don’t know how you put up with me, looking back on it.” 

Jeongguk grows puzzled, stitching his dark eyebrows together. “What do you mean?” 

Jimin grins fondly. “I mean… when I look back on how much we fought when you first moved in, I was really, really mean to you. I never gave you the benefit of the doubt even once, and I think I misread you a lot. You didn’t deserve all of that.” 

Jeongguk shrugs, lips twitching into a little smirk. He’s so gorgeous even in the dim light coming from the city outside. “Yes and no. There were times when I snapped at you, too. I’m kind of competitive–” 

“I know,” Jimin says under his breath. 

“–so when you got angry at me, sometimes I got angry back. Sometimes I tried to be mean on purpose, because I didn’t know what to do with my feelings. I almost couldn’t help it. Other times, I just wanted you so badly that I didn’t know how to approach you, and there was a point where I really did think you hated me. I thought that sex was the only thing that was allowed, so I convinced myself that that was all.” 

Anxiety hits Jimin again, because no matter how much affirmation he’s had from Jeongguk so far, he still hasn’t heard the words straight from his mouth just yet. He hasn’t said how he feels now. 

“And it wasn’t?” Jimin says hesitantly, pushing back his hair to have something to do with his hands. 

“Hasn’t been for a while,” Jeongguk exhales nervously. 

Jimin squeezes his hand, gives him a shy smile. “For me, either.” He pauses and begins to grind his teeth, teetering on the edge of asking his next question because of how uncomfortable it will be to bring it up. It’s one of those unspoken things, something they’ve never dared to breach since it happened. He takes another deep breath, and promptly stumbles over his words. 

“Jeongguk-ah, um. Can I ask– what was the reason– um. In the bathroom that one time–” 

Jeongguk winces visibly. “Yes, of course. I– fuck, that was so bad, wasn’t it? I was really, really afraid to have you touch me. I had gotten so caught up in the moment, and then I realized how selfish I was being. I just panicked. I don’t know if I can explain it any better than that. It wasn’t because I didn’t want you. It’s never been that.” 

Jimin tries to keep his face expressionless, but he knows he looks a little bit pained. “Okay. God, this is so much.” 

“I know,” Jeongguk agrees. His grip has gone a bit too tight on Jimin’s hand. For someone who tends to be a little bit anxious most of the time, Jimin has never seen Jeongguk quite like this. “Can I try to explain myself one more time?” he asks. “I feel like I… didn’t do a good enough job. Of, um, saying how I feel about you.” 

“Of course,” Jimin manages to say, his breath catching. 

He watches as Jeongguk mentally prepares – he can see it on his face, in the way he twists his body to be right in front of Jimin, how he closes his eyes for a long moment and then opens them again. As soon as he starts to speak, he looks like he hates the words that come out of his mouth, but as persistent as ever, he continues. 

“There are so many parts of me, and you saw the confident side of me before you saw the nervous side. For me, that was sort of terrifying, because I thought, how could you possibly work backwards from there? It’s not that I’m not confident, because I am. But I’m also introverted, and I worry a lot, and it takes me a long time to open up to people. Even when I’m close with people, I still get anxious. I know you better now, so I think you understand that. I know you know what it’s like to doubt yourself, or to be… nervous to share things with people, even your best friends. But I had no idea then that you would understand me like you do now. And that just makes me even more regretful, because I feel like I pushed you away at a time where we could have helped each other a lot. 

“And since we’ve gotten closer, I feel so much better. Jimin-hyung, I don’t even know how to explain how I feel. I said before that I’m not very good with words, but despite all of the times we’ve misunderstood each other, when we get past all that, I still feel like no one has accepted my feelings as easily as you do. And… ” Jimin watches Jeongguk swallow, and then he feels a tight grip on his hand. “I love you for it. I really think I love you.” 

Jimin’s entire rib cage fills with butterflies, and after so long of being underwater, it feels like he can breathe again. Unsure of what to do with his body, he just leans closer so all they can see is each other. “Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin chokes out, throat tight again. “I love you.” His voice cracks on the words. “Fuck, I’m gonna cry again.” 

Jeongguk sends him a watery smile, and they lose themselves inside a little forever that’s probably only a few seconds long. They stare, and blink back tears, and Jimin asks himself why there are more stars in Jeongguk’s eyes than there are in the Seoul night sky. 

Eventually, Jimin has to say something, because he’s sure that Jeongguk is waiting for him to. “Is it naive to just wanna move forward?” Jimin asks with a cocked head. He pushes his forehead into Jeongguk’s and lingers there. “You said everything, and I believe you, and I trust you and– that’s it.” 

Jeongguk laughs, tilting his face so their noses brush. “That’s it,” he echoes. “I love being able to let things be simple. I know we’re anything but simple, but talking about all of this kind of makes it feel like we are.” 

Jeongguk pulls back to look at Jimin fondly, and he ghosts his lips against Jimin’s cheek in the softest kiss. Watching Jeongguk sitting there, knowing that his heartbeat is probably still coming down, Jimin thinks he’s still so beautiful in spite of his messy hair and red eyes. But he knows he can’t leave it like this. He owes Jeongguk so much more. 

“To think, I was so scared to talk to you,” he starts, catching Jeongguk’s attention. “Jeongguk-ah, I want to apologize to you, too. I’m really sorry that I didn’t give you a second chance from the beginning. I immediately assumed that you were out to get me, and I spent a lot of time selling you short, and then pushing you away. No matter how upset you made me, you didn’t deserve that. And I… I know I could have come to you sooner. I’m really, really happy that I have you. You make me better.” 

Jeongguk starts to cry again, collapsing his face into Jimin’s shoulder. Jimin lifts his chin immediately, taking his cheeks between both hands and wiping the tears away. “We’re really a mess, hmm?” he jokes, warm and probably more in love than he’d ever thought he’d be. 

“At least we’re consistent,” Jeongguk quips, laughing through his tears. 

“True. Our speciality,” giggles Jimin, still holding Jeongguk’s face, looking at him. He ducks his head when it gets too much, mumbling, “Ah, this is weird.” 

Jeongguk pouts. “What is?” 

“I don’t know,” Jimin says, trying to make his voice as consoling as possible while still being honest. “Just being with you and not having to worry about anything at all. It’s nice.” 

“Yeah,” Jeongguk breathes. 

He tugs on Jimin’s hand and then they both lay back against the hard surface of the rooftop, looking at their incomplete moon and the grey clouds that move quickly overhead. Their bodies are much closer than they were when they arrived, hands clasped between them, biceps pressed together. 

“Will you tell me about your song?” Jimin asks. 

Jeongguk shakes his head cutely. “No, you have to listen to it.” 

“Did you write it?” 

“With help,” Jeongguk mumbles. 

“Can we listen to it together?” Jimin asks excitedly. 

Jeongguk whines, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Do you want me to die from embarrassment?” 

Jimin frowns, even though Jeongguk can’t see. “Why would you be embarrassed? You wouldn’t give it to me if you weren’t proud of it.” 

Jeongguk huffs, removing his arm and peering shyly to the side to look at Jimin. “I know, but still. It’s like a confession,” he whispers.

Jimin bursts into a grin, letting go of Jeongguk’s hand to lean over him instead. He drops his voice. “Then you really have no reason to worry,” murmurs Jimin, hovering his mouth over Jeongguk’s so their lips brush, “because you already did that.” 

Jeongguk brings a hand to the back of Jimin’s hand to pull him into the kiss, and even after they move back he keeps Jimin close to murmur, “Hmm, I guess you’re right. I love you, Jimin-ah.” 

Jimin gets butterflies again, but he lifts his body up to slap Jeongguk’s chest. “Yah, you brat! Getting cheeky with me? Already speaking informally? I can’t believe you.” 

Jeongguk props himself up on his forearms with a confident smirk. He licks his lips. “You like it, I can tell.” 

Jimin drags a hand over his face. This kid. “If Taehyung finds out then I’ll never hear the end of it.” 

Jeongguk shrugs. “Then I’ll just do it around you.” He pinches Jimin’s side. “And say it back, would you?” 

Jimin rolls his eyes so, so fondly. “You’re really something, huh?” It’s the perfect moment under the moon, reminding Jimin that none of the important things have changed. He sits up further to plant a wet kiss against Jeongguk’s lips. “I love you, too.” 

There comes Jeongguk’s killer smile again, even brighter than usual. 

“Should we go somewhere to get food?” Jimin asks, leaning into Jeongguk’s side now that they’re both upright. He rests his head on Jeongguk’s shoulder.

“What about the moon?” Jeongguk says, still smiling. He stares up at it, its glow bathing the two of them in pretty light, competing against the fluorescence of Seoul and winning by a landslide. 

“Yeah,” replies Jimin easily. “I think I’d go to the moon with you.” 

 

☾ ☾ ☾

 

mood: army of one / x marks the spot – coldplay

 

They don’t end up going anywhere. Instead, they retreat back into their blissfully empty apartment and order take out, enjoying each other’s company without reservations. Only after they’re full and sated do they wander into Jeongguk’s room, and after much begging does Jeongguk agree to show Jimin his song in his company. 

Jeongguk sits in front of his computer to play the file of the track saved on his desktop, and Jimin perches himself on the desk, legs dangling off the edge and holding onto Jeongguk’s hand that’s not on top of the mouse. 

Jeongguk presses play on “Butterfly,” and they both look away from each other to simply listen. Jimin keeps his gaze focused on their clasped hands as the first few notes of the piano wash over him. Jeongguk's voice chimes in, telling him not to think of anything, not even a word. The song is a story about loving and losing. Jimin interprets it as their own, but he knows it’s much bigger than that. “Will you stay by my side?” Jeongguk sings in a sweet, honey voice. “Will you promise me? If I let go of your hand, you might fly away and break. I’m scared.” 

The rush of the violins and the soft piano leave Jimin with goosebumps, but doesn’t think about speaking or even moving as the song plays. He hardly wants to breathe. He lets himself smile when he hears the range of Jeongguk’s melodious voice, and it grows wider when he hears the voice of who assumes is Yoongi, then Hoseok’s, then Namjoon’s. Jeongguk was right, because it is like a confession – but it reaches far beyond just that. It’s a ballad for darlings and a symphony for anyone who has been afraid of losing their love. It’s the timeless encapsulation of the fear of ends, the fear of heartbreak, the fear of loss – and it manages to take something terrifying and make it gorgeous.

The song is beautiful, and other than the love Jimin has for Jeongguk, all he can think of is disbelief that Jeongguk had ever doubted himself. 

Even after the music ends, they sit in silence together, letting it settle. Jimin squeezes Jeongguk’s hand as he looks up. “You were gonna give this to me even before we talked?” he asks quietly. 

Jeongguk nods, looking shy. “I mean… it was how I was feeling, and I wanted you to know.” 

“It’s beautiful,” Jimin whispers. He’s thinking so much more than that, but he doesn’t have the words for it. For the first time, he can be sure that Jeongguk understands his silence fully. No questions asked. 

“You’ll dance to it?” Jeongguk asks timidly. 

Jimin swallows, staring into Jeongguk’s earnest, shiny eyes. “I’ll try,” he replies. “I want to try.” 

Jeongguk gives him an easy smile, saying I’m proud of you and I’ll be there to support you without saying anything at all. If there’s one thing that they’ve become good at in all this time, it’s speaking in hearts instead of words. Now, they’ve simply figured out how to do both. 

Jimin reaches for Jeongguk’s hand on the mouse and steers it to click the screen so the song loops again. This time, as they listen, Jimin makes sure to make eye contact, watching the way Jeongguk gets a little flustered at the sound of his own voice. Jimin doesn’t let him look away. 

When the song ends again, Jimin hops off the desk and pulls Jeongguk to his feet to wrap him in a tight hug. He hugs him because he can. Because Jeongguk loves him. Because of the strong arms that hold him tight. Because he doesn’t have to think about what it means. It’s just because he wants to, and they fit together. 

“Y’know,” Jeongguk murmurs by his ear, hands sneaking beneath Jimin’s shirt. “I’ve never seen you dance at all. Not for real anyway.” 

Jimin lets him go but leaves his hands to wander Jeongguk’s waist. “What, do you want a lap dance or something?” he asks lightly. 

Jeongguk grows bright red but keeps his composure. “I mean, I’m not gonna say no…” he mumbles. 

Jimin giggles in surprise, slipping a hand under Jeongguk’s sweatshirt to lay flat on his hard abs. “Yeah?” he says in a low voice. “Pick a song, handsome.” 

Jeongguk only grows more flustered as Jimin’s hands come to thumb along his hip bones and dip beneath the waistband of his sweats. “No, not now,” Jeongguk whines. “Shouldn’t our first time properly together be sort of, I don’t know, sort of romantic?” 

Jimin laughs again. Jeongguk is too cute. He keeps the bit up anyway. “Oh, Jeonggukie is assuming that he’d be able to fuck me after I dance for him? You can’t just fuck for free, y’know,” he tuts, waggling his finger. 

Jeongguk snatches his hand and shoves at him. “Shush, I was trying to be sweet, and you made it gross.” 

Jimin shrugs, walking Jeongguk backwards toward the bed until his legs hit the edge. He sits, and Jimin clambers on top of him. “We’re good at being gross,” he replies. He runs a hand down Jeongguk’s neck and looks at him with a heavy gaze. “I have a million nasty things I wanna try with you.” 

Jeongguk raises his eyebrows, hands finding their usual place on Jimin’s hips. “Oh? Like what?”

Jimin ducks his head to kiss down Jeongguk’s neck. “You’ll have to wait to find out. I thought we were being sweet tonight, right?”

Jeongguk groans. “You’re a tease.” 

Jimin lifts his gaze again to wink. “You made me this way, baby. I just know how much you like it.” 

“Jimin-ah,” Jeongguk whines, hiding his face in Jimin’s shoulder. 

Jimin blushes intensely. “Aish, I’m not used to that.” Jeongguk snickers and gets a look at him, but Jimin’s not going to just let him win. He pets Jeongguk’s cheek and holds his gaze. “I’m used to my good boy being so polite in bed.” 

Jeongguk’s eyes widen, and he smiles, still just a little bit mischievous. He definitely hasn’t fully given in. He’s having too much fun, and Jimin loves it. “I’ll do whatever you want, hyung,” says Jeongguk. 

Jimin hums. “There he is. How about this, Jeongguk-ah. I want you to mark me up nice and good, and them I’m gonna fuck you. Okay?” 

Jeongguk blinks at him, expression changing into something puzzled. “I thought you didn’t want me to leave bruises anymore.” 

Jimin can’t help the way he laughs. He can hardly believe that Jeongguk thinks that rule still stands. “I just didn’t want them knowing I wasn’t really yours.” 

Jeongguk blinks. “Oh.” 

Jimin cups Jeongguk’s cheek fondly. “And I’m yours now, right, baby?” 

“Mine,” breathes Jeongguk. He blinks again. “Oh my god, you’re mine,” he mutters, like he can't believe it. He pulls Jimin closer on his lap, looking at him urgently. “I want them, too. Wanna be yours.” 

Jimin smiles at him, planting a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You are, Gguk-ah. We’ve got each other, okay? It’s all right here.” 

“Fuck,” Jeongguk utters, fingers pressing into Jimin’s hips, voice a little shaky. “I’ve never wanted you more than now.” 

Jimin doesn’t know what happens, but he finds himself overwhelmed all over again. The butterflies wreak havoc in his stomach, and he’s blinking back tears. “How did we end up here?” he whispers, pressing his forehead against Jeongguk’s. 

“I don’t know,” breathes Jeongguk. He pauses. “A lot of sex.” 

Jimin laughs at him, loud and high. “God, you’re not wrong.” He pulls Jeongguk by the back of the head so their lips are centimeters apart. “Now come here. You’re so fucking hot. I don’t think I tell you that enough.”

Jeongguk starts posturing a little bit, jutting out his chin and squaring his shoulders. “Yeah? What do you like about me?” 

Jimin wants to laugh at him again, but instead he plays the game. He grazes his teeth along Jeongguk’s jaw. “Want me to pay attention to you, love? I know you know you’re hot.” 

Jeongguk just looks at him expectantly, so Jimin shoves him back onto the bed and kisses him hard. He pushes his tongue past Jeongguk’s mouth, and they kiss until they’re both a little bit desperate. Then, Jimin starts talking. 

“Hmm, what do I like about my Jeonggukie.” He presses another kiss to Jeongguk’s lips. “I like this mouth,” Jimin says, running his finger along it. “You’re so good with it.” 

He kisses Jeongguk again, sucking on his tongue, but he pulls back just as Jeongguk starts to get into it. He whines as Jimin shifts his lips away, sitting up on Jeongguk’s lap to pull both of their tops off. Then he ducks back down to Jeongguk’s chest, leaving a trail of lovebites on his collarbones. He brushes his fingers over the angry red marks, pressing his pink fingertips into Jeongguk’s skin and loving the way the colors seem to evolve into one another. 

“You have such pretty collarbones, too, baby,” he murmurs. 

Jeongguk hums beneath him, clearly enjoying the attention. Jimin shifts further back onto Jeongguk’s thighs and lays both of his small hands on Jeongguk’s abdomen. He trails his fingers over the ridges of Jeongguk’s muscles and leans down to kiss down the line that runs down the center of them. “Am I predictable if I say your abs make you hot?” Jimin giggles, looking up at Jeongguk through his messy, silver fringe. “I like them a lot, Jeongguk-ah. I like how strong you are. How easily you can move me around. How easily you could fuck me up, if you wanted to.” 

Jimin hears Jeongguk take a breath, and he feels the way his diaphragm rises and falls. He scrapes his teeth over Jeongguk’s navel, and just as he starts to move lower, he realizes he forgot a few things. He resettles in Jeongguk’s lap, both of their cocks straining against each other where they’re trapped in their pants. Jeongguk starts to shift beneath him, but before he can start asking to be touched, Jimin lays his hands over Jeongguk’s pecs. He traces his thumbs over Jeongguk’s nipples, feeling them harden at his touch and watching the way Jeongguk’s face screws up at the sensation. 

“Your big chest is hot, too, baby,” Jimin says, watching Jeongguk exhale heavily beneath him. He leans over to suck one of Jeongguk’s nipples into his mouth, and then he leaves a mark right beside it. “And you’re so sensitive here. Doesn’t take much, does it?” 

Jeongguk just whines and moves his hands to slide beneath Jimin’s leggings, cupping his ass. “Kiss me,” he demands. 

Jimin pouts. “But there are so many other parts of you that I like. What about that face?” he says, inching closer to Jeongguk’s mouth. He slides a hand along the column of Jeongguk’s throat. “Your neck? Your pretty eyes?” 

“Don’t care,” Jeongguk growls, “kiss me.” 

Jimin indulges him, and they kiss again until Jimin himself is growing desperate. As he pulls away licking his red lips, he reaches a hand between the bodies to run his fingers up and down the length of Jeongguk’s hard dick in his pants. “ I almost forgot your big cock,” says Jimin. He taps Jeongguk’s hip bone. “Wanted to mark you right here, too, right before I took you in my mouth.” 

Jeongguk grips Jimin harder. “I thought I was supposed to mark you,” he mumbles. 

Jimin squeezes Jeongguk’s length, and he sucks in a sharp breath through his nose, making Jimin smile. “I’m not going anywhere, baby. We have time.”

“Oh,” says Jeongguk, eyes smiling before his mouth does. “Yeah. We do. I can just be with you all the time.” He says it like a realization, and it sits so pleasantly with Jimin. This is it. They just get to be like this, uninhibited and loving, whenever they want. 

“Mmm, yep,” replies Jimin happily, kissing Jeongguk’s cheek. “Always, with you.” 

He ignores his own request to be marked up to continue worshiping Jeongguk, sucking bruises all over Jeongguk’s pretty chest and abs, the column of his neck, the sharp points of his hip bones. He keeps it up until Jeongguk can’t stand not being touched, leaking into his briefs and hips bumping up into Jimin’s touch. Jimin isn’t unmerciful, and he’s in love, so as they strip each other of their clothes, Jimin lingers between Jeongguk’s legs, sucking the precome from the head of Jeongguk’s cock. 

Jeongguk gasps at his touch, and Jimin lets him have what he wants, bobbing his head and twisting his wrist at the base of Jeongguk’s cock until he’s telling Jimin to stop from how close he is. 

“Come here,” Jeongguk asks instead, so sweetly brushing Jimin’s hair from his eyes. “Wanna touch you.” 

Jimin crawls up the bed and lays next to him. Jeongguk greets him with a kiss and a hand on his cock. Jimin doesn’t even realize how much he was aching for it until he gets the touch. Jeongguk goes slow, kissing along Jimin’s neck finally, stopping to leave a mark behind his ear before whispering in it. 

As he swirls his thumb around the head of Jimin’s dripping cock, he asks, “Will you really dance on me one day?” 

Jimin smirks, turning his head to kiss Jeongguk again and lay a hand over the tiny, muscular dip of his waist. “You want that? Want me to move my hips on you?” he breathes. Jeongguk nods. “Want me to grind on your cock and make you beg to have me?” 

Jeongguk’s hand stutters where he’s touching Jimin as he moans, gasping, “Yes, so bad.” 

Jimin pets Jeongguk’s cheek even though his hips buck into Jeongguk’s touch. “Another time, baby. Right now I just want you like this. I don’t want any distractions. Is that okay?” 

Jeongguk blinks wetly at him, taking his hand from Jimin’s cock and pulling their bodies together where they lay on their sides. “Of course it’s okay. I’m just so lucky I get to have you.” 

Jimin smiles fondly at him, carding through his hair. “You’ve had me for so long and you still feel lucky?” 

Jeongguk looks at him like he’s silly. “I’ve never had you like this, hyung. I’ve never gotten to pull you close and tell you I love you even if I’ve thought about it a million times. It’s just a little surreal.” 

Somehow, even when he’s this turned on, Jimin’s emotions overwhelm him. He can’t believe the way they’re able to go back and forth between both of those sensations, and he’s so glad that one doesn’t cancel out the other. 

“I love you too, Gguk,” Jimin murmurs, kissing him once. “I love you so much. You always feel so good. It makes me feel so good when we’re close like this. It’s even better, now.” 

Jeongguk’s breath hitches, his hand grasping at Jimin’s waist. “You feel it too?” he whispers. “The way it changed?” 

“Yeah,” Jimin breathes.. 

“I’m never gonna be able to keep my hands off of you,” Jeongguk mutters, pulling Jimin into his lap again with one fluid motion and taking Jimin’s cock back into his hand. 

Jimin’s laugh doesn’t really stifle his moan, but he mumbles, “You already don’t, you horny kid.” 

“As if you’re not as desperate as me,” Jeongguk chuckles, licking his lips and squeezing Jimin’s ass. 

“Do I need to tell you how hot you are again? Did you forget in the past few minutes why I want you all the time?”

Jeongguk’s lips stay parted. “No–”

Jimin cuts him off by getting off his lap and going to retrieve the lube and a condom. “Right,” he says as he leaves the bed. “Now can I fuck you, pretty boy? Get you coming undone for me?” 

“Yeah,” Jeongguk says, reaching for Jimin as soon as he returns to the sheets. “Want it. Want you.” 

They don’t fuck slow and sickly sweet, because they don’t have to. Jimin opens him quick, and then they fuck hard. Jeongguk leaves long red lines running down Jimin’s back and pretty red marks on his neck to match. They gasp sweet words into each other’s skin, but they’re mixed into the things they’ve always said. Jeongguk moans loudly into Jimin’s ear, saying how good his cock feels inside of him, and Jimin praises him until he comes done, still paying attention to every part of his perfect body and reminding him of how good he is. 

They come together, and it ends in sticky, sweaty, messy bodies marked by achy muscles and bruised skin. It’s so much like the usual, and that, Jimin thinks, is why it feels so good. They were already here. They were already so quietly loving and so full of words. They just needed the final push. The cue to say I love you.

 

☾ ☾ ☾

 

mood: LOVE. FEAT. ZACARI – kendrick lamar, zacari 

 

Jimin texted Jeongguk about an hour ago with the studio number where they’re supposed to meet, but he fails to leave the house without being barraged with loud commentary from one Kim Taehyung. 

“Your neck? ” Taehyung shouts, reaching for the collar of Jimin’s t-shirt that’s already doing very little to cover up the hickeys all over his skin. “Your neck still looks like this? It’s been a week since you got together for real, and it still looks like you’re in some kind of sick cannibalistic competition. Are you trying to see who can eat each other first?” 

Jimin just falls onto him in uncontrollable laughter, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror they have by the door and promptly looking away. It’s not his best look, but he does like it. 

“I can’t believe your big emotional resolution ended in this, ” Taehyung exclaims. “Fucking horny teeth-loving weirdos.” 

Jimin keeps giggling. He and Jeongguk have only continued to mark each other up, apparently not over their newfound possessiveness, and somehow they fuck even more than they used to. It just keeps on getting better with all of their walls down. 

“Just don’t ask him to take his shirt off,” Jimin chuckles, putting on his sneakers and grabbing his keys. “Wouldn’t want you to see that.” 

Taehyung makes a disgusted face, but he follows Jimin to the door and kisses his cheek. “You guys are foul. I’m so happy for you and I love you so much. Have fun! Good luck!” 

Jimin leaves him with a “thank you” and “I love you, too,” and then he’s making his way to school. 

Jimin gets to the studio with plenty of time to spare, so he warms up using his regular routine, stretching, practicing, breathing so he can actually calm down. He’s on the floor when Jeongguk finally arrives, gorgeous with his big backpack thrown over his shoulders, face hidden by a cap, and a black, short-sleeve shirt that shows off his arms. Jimin’s not sure how Jeongguk fairs against the heat with his monochrome wardrobe, but he infallibly looks good – so Jimin doesn’t question it. 

Jeongguk stares at Jimin who’s bent in half to reach past his toes, and Jimin sees where Jeongguk’s eyes are trained on his tight, all-white outfit. He’d changed into something nicer when he’d gotten here, and he’s pretty sure that Jeongguk wasn’t expecting it. 

“Hyung–” Jeongguk starts. 

Jimin lifts a hand to cut him off, and then he promptly jumps to his feet. “No, don’t say anything. I just have to do it.” 

“Okay,” says Jeongguk. 

“Get comfy,” Jimin mumbles, suddenly a little nervous. 

Jeongguk listens, shedding his hat and shoes and coming to stand at the back of the studio, right in line with the center of the room. Jimin hands him his phone shyly and mumbles, “When I look at you, press play, okay? It’s on the bluetooth.” 

Jeongguk nods wordlessly, staring with his wide eyes and the lovestruck stars that live in them. 

Jimin fiddles with his silky shirt as he moves into the middle of the floor, staring down at his bare feet before closing his eyes. He takes several deep breaths, and then his eyes are flashing up to Jeongguk, who starts the music right on cue. 

“Butterfly” pours out of the speakers, and Jimin moves without thinking. He’d stayed in the studios for hours every night this past week just to do this for Jeongguk. Jeongguk had instilled this faith in him that he could do it, and so he did. He devoted all of his time into this choreography, into fluid hand movements and pointed fingers, into soft curves and sharp angles. He feels Jeongguk watching him, but instead of making Jimin more nervous, it calms him down. This is the culmination of their stories, movement meeting music. 

At the very least, he can say he tried his best. 

It’s less than five minutes before it’s all over, but by the end, Jimin’s chest is heaving and Jeongguk is coming to hug him tight. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Jeongguk whispers into his ear. “Your hair, and the outfit, and the way you move, God, I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this from me.” 

Jimin just laughs breathily, stepping back from the hug to sweep his hair off his forehead and smile at Jeongguk with ruddy cheeks. “Come watch me and Hobi dance sometime. I’m sure that’s more fun.”

“No,” Jeongguk says. “I mean, yes, I will, I’d love to, but– this was unreal. You were made for this, Jimin-ah.” 

Jimin just blushes harder, looking away. He hasn’t danced for anyone like this, alone for watchful eyes. It only feels right that the piece was this one. 

“Would you ever perform it for real?” Jeongguk asks. “Like for an audience?” 

Jimin meets his eyes, speaking shyly. If there’s anything that makes him reserved, it’s this. “Maybe,” he admits. “It feels right. I’m not sure that I feel ready for it yet, but I’m gonna work my way there.” 

Jeongguk’s grin seems to fill up his entire face, dimples and all. He pulls Jimin for another quick hug and releases him again. “Good plan. I’m really, really proud of you. I can’t believe how beautiful you are.” 

Avoiding the compliment, Jimin flutters his eyelashes and does a little pirouette for him. “I think this just means you have to write all the songs I dance contemporary to.” 

Jeongguk lets out a low whistle. “That’s a tall order.” 

Jimin waves a hand around. “We can take it one at a time. Anyway, you’re doing just as well as me. And I’m just as proud.” He takes Jeongguk’s hand and pulls. “Now let’s go. We’re going on a date.” 

Jeongguk blinks, looking happy. “We are?” 

Jimin shrugs, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Why not?” 

“Where are we going?” Jeongguk asks, leading Jimin to the back of the studio to gather their bags and put on their shoes. 

“I thought we could have a drink before I take you to dinner,” says Jimin smoothly, shoving his sneakers back on and zipping up his bag. 

“Drinking on a weeknight?” Jeongguk asks, teasing. “What happened to my little nerd who studies every day of his life?” 

Jimin pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. “First of all, I’m not little.” Jeongguk draws a line from the top of Jimin’s head to his own face to signify their height difference. “Second of all, we’re celebrating.” 

Jeongguk steps forward and wraps him in a bear hug. “My boyfriend is little and strong and I love him for it,” he says in Jimin’s ear, proudly corny. “What are we celebrating?” 

“Us,” Jimin says. “Duh.” 

Jeongguk giggles. “But we got together, like, a week ago.” 

Jimin gives him a look. “I don’t care. Now, what will you drink?” He releases himself from the tight grip Jeongguk has on him and grabs Jeongguk’s arm, maneuvering it over his own shoulder and clinging to Jeongguk’s waist. 

They make their way out of the building as Jeongguk thinks it over. “I don’t know. Gin and tonic?” 

As they step outside into the warm air, the sun is just beginning to kiss the horizon. The sky is cast in a pink light, but they can already see the moon. The sounds of the cicadas are still singing in the trees. 

“Oh, me too then,” chirps Jimin happily. “Just don’t spill it on me, okay?” 

Like summer, Jeongguk’s laughter grows sweeter every day.

Notes:

the end, i cried. lol. i really hope you guys liked this final chapter and that it lived up to your expectations and answered all of your questions. your support means so much to me, and i will continue to write more in the future! i have 3 more final exams in the next week and a half but after that i hope to come back with more stories for all of you since i am decidedly stuck at home during this pandemic. i hope everyone is being safe out there.

if you want to see more of my works/have a conversation i'm @jkoomi!!