Work Text:
Jungkook stares blankly at the number on the door, unsure of what his next movement should be. Between his fingers, he makes a key dance lightly, twisting and turning like a ballerina. On it, number 505 is engraved, although a little worn out after many years of usage—the building isn't precisely new.
Two days ago, after his tour had been cancelled due to lockdowns being once again set in other countries, Jungkook had flown back to Korea with a heavy heart, and his usual empty, shallow chest. Today he had reached his 49th hour laying down on his bed, with rushing thoughts filling his mind that prevented him from moving even to eat.
Thoughts about the sound, the beautiful sound of the bells when he and Jimin had met all those years ago—the giggles of the then-blonde man sounding just as pretty as the soulmate alert itself. How they had spent ages pinning after each other, dancing over the dangerous line between friendship and love, afraid of taking a step further and breaking the beautiful bond they had built.
Oh, how right were they to do so.
Jungkook takes a doubtful step forward, and ponders the possible scenarios waiting behind the door he knows way-too-well. Is Jimin okay? Is he home? Does he know Jungkook is in town? Is he with someone? The singer shakes his head, trying not to overthink, when the memory of Jimin waiting for him in bed that one time—naked, lying on his side to prettily present himself to Jungkook as soon as he entered the room—makes its way into Jungkook’s brain. It’s certainly not the right Moment to think about that, not when they had last seen each other two years ago. Jimin’s life could be completely different now, yet Jungkook stands in front of his door, thinking about introducing his spare key into the lock.
When the door finally opens, after way too many minutes of hesitating in front of the apartment, it’s not because of the key that still jumps between his fingers. Jimin freezes on the spot when he opens to find a doubtful Jungkook centimetres away from him. His hair is its natural jet back now, but his sharp, dangerous gaze and soft lips haven’t changed a bit.
“Kook,” Jimin’s voice comes out as a whisper, adorned with confusion and surprise at the sight. Once again, the blissful sound of bells remind them of their fate, but instead of making their hearts light and happy, both feel an unbearable weight over their shoulders that sinks way too deep into their chests.
It’s difficult to decipher Jimin’s look. It’s obvious that he wasn’t expecting Jungkook to be waiting at his door, but the singer can’t figure out how his ex-lover feels. What he does know, however, is that he feels so alive when he’s close to Jimin, just like he did back when they were together, and that his chest doesn’t feel empty anymore.
He remembers the moment he left for the last time, the wooden frame shaking behind him as he slammed the door, shutting down Jimin’s yelling, and trying not to look back. Not only that, but the heartache and the suffocating feeling that clinged to his throat as he walked out of the building, feeling how each and every one of his bones screamed to hold Jimin tightly once again. Even after all the fights, even after getting so hurt, Jimin and Jungkoook adored each other like they could never do with anyone else.
Jungkook knows the butterflies flying around his stomach way too well. He recognises them from many other times in the past, when they came prior to either making love or getting into a fight with his soulmate. But the feeling quickly transforms into a sharp sting in his belly. The heavy silence between them brings all kinds of emotions and thoughts, some of them extremely frightening—disappointing Jimin once again is the first in the list. Or, even worse, falling into a spiral of dreams and hopes, and having to pull himself out of it once again.
But if he knows his soulmate as well as he thinks he does, Jimin is probably feeling exactly the same. After all, it’s not the first time the bells ring for them.
"You're back," the older states the obvious, sounding as if his breath had been knocked out of his lungs. Jungkook feels the same.
"I- yeah. Yeah, I'm back," Jungkook tries to avoid giving many explanations, as that would only make things more complicated for them.
In the blink of an eye, Jimin makes a decision. Grabbing the sole of Jungkook's leather jacket, he pulls the singer into his apartment with their lips crushed together—hungry, longing, scared to let go. It's careful, but rushed. The way their hands search for each other's skin restlessly, wrestling with the layers of clothing necessary to protect them from the cold of the winter, but so unnecessary now that their bodies burn in blue flames.
Jungkook moves with knowledge around the place. Even with his eyes closed, he finds the edge of the grey sofa that they chose together all that time ago—the one that saw them grow as close as they could, only to break apart like broken glass.
Oxygen is overrated when it comes to choosing between breathing or kissing Jimin. To Jungkook, at least, the choice is clear. The floor is covered by their clothes, scattered around. Their clothed hips rub onto each other desperately, looking to find all they had lost. The windows covered with the steam created with the heat of their bodies.
The singer detaches his lips from Jimin's only to find the skin on his neck and below, quickly kissing his way down Jimin's chest, who makes the prettiest sounds Jungkook has ever heard. The singer gets, once again, lost in his soulmate—in the touch of his other half, his warmth, his gentleness.
Sadly, it doesn’t take long. As Jungkook has correctly guessed, his tour is rescheduled only a few months after their reunion.
Everything had been working out so smoothly between them, so easy you could clearly feel their soulmate bond. Jungkook repeats a self-hating mantra in his head again and again, hoping that, somehow, it will make him pity himself for leaving once more. For making Jimin greet him goodbye, again. It doesn’t surprise Jungkook when, when he walks into their apartment that night, decidingly crossing the 505 mark to tell Jimin the news, his soulmate is already waiting for him with a sour, hurt expression.
“Your behaviour is too tale-telling, Jungkook,” the older man deadpans, hitting Jungkook right in the gut. Leaving Jimin is painful, but seeing Jimin being so emotionless about it all, topped everything else. Of course, Jungkook doesn’t want Jimin to suffer—it’s obvious, though, that he’s just shielding himself from the damage. Closing the gates before the pain arrives.
And Jungkook can’t blame him.
A year later, and Jungkook is once again waiting in front of that stupid number. As if cursed, Jungkook glares at it whilst he ponders whether to fit the key in the lock. Imagining a happy Jimin waiting for him inside, hoping for a wide smile and warm hugs—even if it’s selfish and hypocritical, Jungkook can’t bear foreseeing the empty, cold look Jimin had given him the last time they saw each other. He had hurt his soulmate to that extreme, and he wasn’t proud of it—although it’s not like he had done something about it.
But now, now he’s in front of their door once again, with clear ideas and ready to leave it all once the jingling bells ring again in the back of his mind.
Taking a deep breath, Jungkook steps forward to enter the key in the slit when the door opens, startling him.
Unlike the last time, however, a woman opens the door, and Jungkook’s heart shatters in a million pieces.
“Uhm- can… can I help you?”
“I..yeah, Park Jimin?”
“Oh! Sorry, he moved a few months ago, but I don’t have his new address…”
“Ah, right! Don’t worry, I- I’ll find it myself. Thank you!”
After a bow driven by the heaviness in his heart, Jungkook stumbles away. This is how, rightfully, Jimin has decided to shut him down from his life. And Jungkook, once again, can only blame himself.