Saturday, September 11, 2032; 9:01 AM → Present
“Daddy!” Seungmi exclaimed, the familiar sound of the chiming doorbell, faithfully ringing like it did every single Saturday morning.
Jimin was in the middle of dressing his son though, despite the young boy’s fidgeting, enhanced by the sound of who he knew was behind the door.
“Seungmi, can you stop kicking for papa? I only need to tie your shoes really quick, and I’ll let you open the door, yeah?” Jimin pleaded, sighing softly at his son’s impatience but delighted by the excitement Seungmi couldn’t detain.
“Papa I’m just so excited! Daddy said that he was taking me and Jungsuk to the Kid’s Museum and Grand Park and that me and Jungsuk-ah can get in the big water balls, and look at the tigers, and the lions and Papa you have to hurry!” Seungmi exclaimed, pulling on Jimin’s wrist for the elder to hurry with putting on his clothes, and Jimin only chortled at this, ruffling his son’s jet black hair, and giving him a fat kiss on the forehead (to which Seungmi so rudely wiped away) and let his son down to his feet.
As soon as he let Seungmi down, it was like starting the ignition and pressing down on the gas because the kid zoomed out of his room with determination. Jimin sometimes felt just a tad bit envious of how much the kid loved his other father.
“Seungmi! Don’t run down the stairs, boy! You’ll hurt yourself!”
Jimin grabbed Seungmi’s duffle bag full of toiletries, a couple toys, pajamas and a change of clothes for the next morning, and slung it over his shoulder, following the hot trail Seungmi left.
When Jimin finally made it down the long flight of steps, he was met with the sight of the door opened wide, Seungmi eagerly trying to pull his appa out of the door, and a Namjoon that couldn’t really hide the small discomfort he felt even though he was simply scrolling through his phone, laptop perched on his lap – though he paid it no mind.
“Get your feet off the couch, babe,” Jimin ordered, and Namjoon fought the urge to roll his eyes at his boyfriend, being obedient in his wishes despite this though.
Jimin sauntered toward the door, smiling softly at the sight before him.
“Seungmi-ah, I’ve got to get your bag first, son,” Jungkook laughed, pulling his son back to him, and Jimin felt endeared.
Jungkook was picking Seungmi up for his weekly custody of the kid, though it feels like Jungkook is there everyday of the week with Seungmi always insisting to FaceTime his appa.
“But Appa, we have to go! All the other kids are going to take the water balls, and we’ll have to wait! Where’s Jungsuk?”
As if on cue, the window to Jungkook’s back window rolled down, and a boy that looked a little more like his mother than Jungkook with his darker skin, and curly brown hair, poked his head out of it, waving frantically and screaming with mirth, “Hi, Seungmi-hyung!”
Seungmi waved back just as frantically, as if they hadn’t just seen each other. Jungkook laughed, and finally let Seungmi go, prying the younger’s hand off his wrist, “go to the car, buddy, and get strapped in. Jungsuk is really excited to-” Jungkook couldn’t even get the rest of his words out before Seungmi was racing to his car, yelling feverishly to his younger brother despite the calm morning their neighborhood ensured.
Jungkook’s mouth lifted in a grin at his sons and their undeniable bond before he finally broke the contact, and looked at Jimin instead. “Good morning,” he smiled, teeth that still fit just a little too big in his mouth even now at 35 years old.
Jimin noticed he was dressed casually rather than his weekly expensive black suit and tie, just in a simple black hoodie and light washed jeans, tennis shoes on his feet, his hair flopped in his face rather than away from it like it normally was and Jimin couldn’t help but feel like they were young and together again. Jungkook looked so nostalgic this way, and Jimin hated it.
“Good morning,” the elder responded, holding his hand out for Jungkook to take the bag from him, and he did, copying it’s position on Jimin’s shoulder.
Jungkook nodded, smiling politely and turning to leave at that, but Jimin stopped him. “Could you possibly bring Seungmi back home a little early tomorrow night? My family wants to have dinner, and they obviously want him there, but it starts an hour before you bring him back. I mean, I guess I could just show up a little late but-”
“It’s not problem, Jimin,” Jungkook interjected, the younger noticing in the passed five years, Jimin acquired the problem of rambling, “I’ll bring him at six.”
Jungkook was solely staring at Jimin throughout the whole encounter, but something bugged him to stare behind him, despite his better judgment because he knew who would be there. To Jungkook’s annoyance, Namjoon was already staring at him, and even as they made eye contact, neither backed down. Jungkook almost took a battling stance, his disregard for decency leaving him. Namjoon quirked a brow in challenge, much like he did the last time he and Jungkook got into an altercation and Jimin was having absolutely none of that. Jimin closed the door on himself, his body filling in the slither of space left that either male could look through.
“Great,” Jimin riposted, “I’ll see you then.”
“I’ll see you then,” Jungkook echoed, his eyes turning soft instantly upon returning his attention to the male. He turned to walk down the passageway back to the driver’s door, but a thought occurred to Jimin.
“You didn’t give me a goodbye kiss, Seungmi-ah!” Jimin called as Jungkook was sliding into the driver’s seat, his son popping his head out to look out the door, “I’m sorry, Daddy! Tell Namjoon-hyung I said-” but the door was slammed shut before Seungmi could finish the rest of the sentence. Jungkook was still so immature.
Jungkook was peeling off, no doubt amusing his two little boys until nothing but ring of silence remained.
Jimin tugged on the door until he heard the click of the latch snapping in place, and that’s when he felt arms snake under his shirt, warming his skin as they ran around him to a close, Namjoon’s entire front pressing into his back. He felt soft lips on the back of his neck, a nose breathing him in, and he leaned his forehead on the sternum of the door.
“You smell so good,” Namjoon mumbled against his flesh, and Jimin could feel the grin, he matched it. He was surprised that Namjoon didn’t comment on that little Jungkook moment, usually he would, but he would much rather this – much rather this. “Do I?”
Namjoon’s deep voice rumbled in merriment, pressing kisses that felt a lot more like feathers on his skin, “You do.”
Jimin simpered, letting the kisses continue a moment more before he pivoted, and faced Namjoon, the elder getting more leverage to latch onto Jimin – Jimin naturally fastening his wrists around Namjoon’s neck, “you’re always sniffing me.”
The smack of lips moving against one another filled the silence shortly after, Namjoon trying to get more and more of Jimin despite their bodies being a barrier to literally merge into one.
Namjoon’s hands trailed down only slightly to meet the swells of Jimin’s ass, and squeezed, making the younger smile against his lips.
“Now that Seungmi’s gone,” Namjoon rasped, kissing lightly down Jimin’s jawline, “we can have a little fun.”
Jimin sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, absentmindedly letting his hand drown in Namjoon’s slightly damaged tresses, “That’ll be a negative, I’ve got a few errands to run today.”
Namjoon groaned the loudest, most dramatically throaty sound in the history of being disappointed, “but I need you now.”
“You know, whining never suited your voice baby – only moans and cooperation,” Jimin joked, pushing away Namjoon’s hands when they went to the button of his jeans, “besides, we’re going to dinner tonight right?” Jimin asked, pulling Namjoon down to his level by the collar, pecking his lips in succession – Namjoon nodded.
“Right, so afterward, you can fuck me on every single inch of this house if you want,” Jimin said, giggling when Namjoon looked horrified, shaking his head violently at what Jimin was currently doing to him, “stop talking or I’ll do it now,” Namjoon said with playfully gritted teeth, slapping Jimin’s ass in punishment, and the younger reveled in it.
“You won’t because I have to go,” Jimin remarked, pressing one last peck against Namjoon’s lips and breaking away from the sweet embrace, “I’ll be back before we have to go, though, long before.” Jimin grabbed his keys and wallet off the coffee table, “and you’ve got to go to your mom’s house to help her paint, remember?”
“Oh shit! I forgot, thanks for reminding me, babe,” Namjoon huffed, his relaxed demeanor tensing once he realized he almost ditched his mom and her painting job.
Right as Jimin was walking out the door, Namjoon called out to him, making the brown-haired cutie stop and turn in the doorway, eyebrow raising in question, “don’t be late, okay? This night is going to be pretty,” Namjoon paused momentarily, looking up as if the sky would provide him the vocabulary needed, “special,” he settled on, a sly smirk chasing after. This was a surprise a little too grand to give away.
Jimin shook his head lightly, “I won’t be late. I love you.”
“I love you too.” And Namjoon was left with the hum silence left him in.
Digging into his pocket, Namjoon pulled out a small, red velvet box, and flicked open the top, revealing a shiny gold band with a crater in the middle fitting the brightest white diamonds. The ring held some masculinity with just a small feminine touch, and Namjoon thought Jimin’s little hand would look so cute, and dainty with a pretty ring donned on his left.
Namjoon bit his lip, his leg bouncing in anticipation – a surprise just too grand.
Sunday, August 7, 2016; 4:46 PM
Jungkook literally hated his life. Quite literally hated it. He should have listened to his parents. Why did he have to not listen to his parents? He hated his own stubborn qualities just as much as they did because now he wants to kick his own ass.
He’s been running around this campus for at least two hours, only trying to find his fucking dorm. His dorm. Anyone he asked either didn’t know, or pointed him in a completely wrong direction. Then when he decided to just stop and go to the administrations office for help, but he realized he had no idea where that was either, and he’s never felt more unlucky in his life.
He was only 19, how much sin has he committed in his lifetime? Why was God punishing him?
Jungkook finally decided that his ankles were going to give out soon, so he lugged all his bags to a bench only a couple feet away and plopped his ass right on top of it, aggressively shoving his bags on the ground next to him. He should have just went to a University in Busan. There was no way he was going to survive more than a day in Seoul.
He took this time to really survey his schedule, and registration forms, “Building 17A, Room 4,” he whispered to himself, why did it sound familiar? “Did I already fucking pass it?!”
He was literally debating drowning himself in the overelaborate fountain behind him when he heard a small chuckle erupt next to him (which was creepy because he didn’t even sense anyone sit next to him) and when he looked over, there was a boy, probably around his age, give or take a few years (probably younger than himself if cheeks are anything to go by). He was sipping on an electric blue slushy which made his teeth and lips mirror the hue, his skin a golden contrast and his hair even more of one – it was a hot red color, which Jungkook never even knew people considered getting, let alone was able to pull off – but this guy made it work.
He was currently smiling at Jungkook, blue teeth displayed and eyes crinkled in the cutest way, with a straight nose, and the smallest hands Jungkook has ever seen on another man. Jungkook couldn’t help but stare right through the arm hole of the red head’s wife beater to see nothing but muscle and abs (which was confusing for Jungkook because cheeks? He should have had a little pudge considering that), and Jungkook suddenly became self conscious in this boy’s presence. He literally had no flaws it seemed, and well, Jungkook kind of does have flaws, quite a few of them.
Not to say he doesn’t like the way that he looks, he knew damn well he wasn’t ugly, but this level of perfection was unattainable, and his beauty kind of made Jungkook just a little uncomfortable because his heart was beating a little harder and his stomach was doing this little fluttering thing, and Jungkook doesn’t know what the fuck is going on but he hates it and is praying that it stops soon.
He fucking had sweat all over him, and redhead was looking cooler than a fucking cucumber with his slushy and his beautiful ass smile (that Jungkook unknowingly caused), so Jungkook finally spoke up, “are you laughing at me?” and it came out more offended than Jungkook had intended for it to, but for a moment there he almost forgot how socially in-apt he could be with this angel sitting next to him.
The other stilled and his smile dropped just a hint but was never completely gone which Jungkook was grateful for, “Not really at your expense. You just look like you’re having a hard time. And you also did in fact pass building 17A already, but no worries it’s only a block or so from here,” Mr. Perfect explained (and Jungkook was totally not going to fawn over his voice that sounded like the softest marimbas), “I’m Jimin, by the way.”
“Jungkook,” Jungkook threw back and sighed deeply, he just wanted to lay down, his muscles felt like mush, and his bones felt like stilts in a hurricane.
“Welcome to the University of Seoul, Jungkook, at least I can assume this is your first time here? What year are you? What are you majoring in?” Jimin asked, his eyes somehow big despite how small they could get.
“Yes, this is my first year, and I want to be a defense attorney—for victims of assault,” Jungkook responded, pretty short but he’s only broken out of his shell enough to play sports throughout high school, right now he’s not some football star, or point guard on the basketball team – right now he’s just Jungkook, a fresh piece of meat in the biggest University in Korea (no biggie).
“Why?” Jimin asked, and Jungkook assumed he was speaking of his major.
Jungkook had his reasons. (Inclusive of watching Law and Order: SVU faithfully, but not only because) “I just want to help people,” Jungkook left out the bit about being motivated to do such a job because he wanted to help women like his mother. His father had been prosecuted long ago for the physical and sexual assault he committed on his mother, and all he had got was forced out of the house, and wasn’t allowed to contact Jungkook or his mother, but Jungkook looking back, that wasn’t nearly enough. His mother is still not the same over what happened to her, she still isn’t completely there, still not whole, and his sperm donor is out there living his life, probably doing the same thing to some other poor woman all because the evidence of abuse wasn’t substantial enough to incarcerate him. Jungkook wanted to put anyone like his father in jail. Point, blank, period. But he didn’t need to tell this beautiful stranger all of this.
“Admirable,” Jimin said, smiling softly, “I’m in my second year, though, and I want to be a psychiatric nurse practitioner,” Jimin offered, despite Jungkook asking which Jungkook silently thanked him for because he was curious, but didn’t know how to ask. He was impressed by this, not taking Jimin for the type to want a job so, intricate and important.
“W-why do you want to be that?” Jungkook asked, cursing at himself mentally for the stutter.
Jimin seemed to think this over for a second, then looked back over at Jungkook, “I just want to help people too, I suppose. People with mental illnesses are treated horribly because of something that they can’t help, and– I don’t know,” and Jungkook thought for a moment that maybe there was something Jimin wasn’t telling him as well, and he figured they were a lot more in common than he thought.
“Admirable,” Jungkook mirrored exactly how Jimin had said it earlier, and the redhead smiled, laughing lightly.
“Well, I live in 17A as well, Room 4 actually, so it appears that we’re roommates, I was heading to the room now, so you can follow me there.”
“I’m-we’re – you’re my roommate?” Jungkook stuttered. He felt nervous, and cold sweat trickled down the back of his neck – God really did hate him.
“Yeah,” Jimin laughed, “don’t sound so disappointed.”
“I’m not!” Jungkook basically yelled and he almost opened his arms for the heavens to take him now. Luckily, Jimin was nothing but a ball of amusement. Jungkook took a deep breath, “I’m not- disappointed. I just you’re- I don’t know. Too pretty to live with me?” Jungkook said, sounding extremely unsure. Jimin paused to stare at Jungkook and Jungkook felt like he was going to get up and walk away from Jungkook’s childish bullshit, but Jimin busted in a howl of laughter. Jungkook doesn’t know why he said that either, so he supposes he deserves this. The corner of his mouth lifted despite his cheeks reddening in embarrassment, Jimin had such a wonderful laugh. Jungkook didn’t notice Jimin’s crooked tooth in the beginning, but he’d hardly call it a flaw – it looked cute on him, and added a form of uniqueness to the redhead.
Eventually, Jimin stood, calming down from his laughing fit and motioning for Jungkook to do the same as he wiped a tear off the corner of his eye, “Jungkook-ah, you’re really funny,” Jungkook decided he liked the way Jimin sounded saying his name like that. Still chuckling softly, Jimin helped Jungkook out by taking up two of his bags, slinging it over a strong shoulder, patting Jungkook’s back, “I think this year is going to be interesting.”
Friday, April 21, 2017; 2:28 PM
“Jungkook!” Jimin screeched, euphoria overtaking his body, his nails clawing down the younger’s back. He couldn’t really catch his breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his high took over all his senses, his blood seeming to rush everywhere – the heat he felt unbearable. It felt so fucking good.
Even after Jimin’s orgasm, Jungkook continued to thrust, but at a slower, deeper pace, making Jimin writhe, and shake under him, his nails digging crescents into the younger’s flesh. “No, no – stop, st-stop oh my fucking god,” Jimin whined, his voice sounding as if he was near tears from way too much stimulation, but Jungkook shushed him with kisses, rubbing his sweat soaked hair back away from his face.
Jimin was trying his hardest not to squirm away, trying to endure until Jungkook came, but it hurt too fucking good, and he couldn’t take it, so he begged Jungkook to come, wrapped his arms around the younger’s neck and pressed their lips together, biting and sucking at the raven haired boy’s bottom lip, trying to control how desperate he sounded so Jungkook wouldn’t feel bad about continuing. It only took a little more cajoling and sucking a fat hicky on his neck when Jungkook finally came, blowing his load inside the condom he wore, instead of inside Jimin, and Jimin sighed in relief, letting Jungkook thrust a few more times to ride it out before the younger pulled out.
Jungkook collapsed beside Jimin, the only thing filling the silence was their breathing but Jimin’s had slowed down considerably. Next thing Jungkook knew, Jimin was sticking to his side, digging his face into his neck, making the air around them impossibly more humid, but he didn’t mind. Not when an angel was cuddling him.
“That was amazing,” Jimin commented, rubbing up and down Jungkook’s arm in a way that soothed the younger, almost making him fall asleep instantly, but he didn’t. Jungkook reached down and pulled the used condom off his softening dick, tied the end and threw it in the general direction of the trash can by the door, which if it didn’t make it, Jimin would nag him about their room being a pigsty.
“You’re amazing,” Jungkook countered finally, pressing the lightest kisses against Jimin’s forehead, nose, then finally his mouth, to which Jimin reciprocated with a smile, running his hands up Jungkook’s chest, past his neck to bury his fingers into thick strands, deepening the kiss for passion instead of lust.
When they broke away, Jimin still kept his hand in Jungkook’s hair, ruffling the strands between his fingers, and maintaining the deepest eye contact. So many words were being exchanged between the two of them, a silent language they developed, and Jimin saw everything in those eyes that Jungkook had always been too scared to say through his mouth.
‘I care about you.’
'I want to be yours forever.’
'I’ve never felt this way about somebody in my life.’
'I love you.’
“I love you,” Jimin said against Jungkook’s lips, and the younger’s eyes widened only slightly. That was the first time it was said between the two of them. Jimin knew Jungkook had no real relationship before him, and Jimin took away a lot of Jungkook’s firsts. Jimin had done a lot of things before Jungkook, but he had never meant them, never felt so emotionally involved with anyone else like he did Jungkook, and that’s why those three words flowed off his tongue so easily. Despite his open personality, his heart never really was on his sleeve, he just seemed like it, but with Jungkook, it was so easy to let go, and just feel, and revel in those feelings, but Jungkook’s lack of response worried him a little, but it didn’t wane his feelings.
“You don’t have to say it back, Kookie. I just wanted you to-”
“I love you too, hyung,” Jungkook interrupted, looking into Jimin’s eyes with confidence, but a small blush dusted his sun kissed cheeks anyways, and Jimin doesn’t think he’s ever seen something cuter in his life. He fucking loved his awkward roommate. Loved him more than he’d loved anyone else. (Okay maybe not more than his Mom.)
Jimin was just about to say something sappy when their door busted open, making both boys scramble for the bedspread to cover themselves. They both were on the top bunk, so their naked bodies were easily accessible to the eye. When Jimin finally looked over to the door, he sighed in relief, but annoyance overtook him.
“Hobi-hyung, can you learn how to fucking knock?!”
Tuesday, December 17, 2024; 6:17 PM
Throwing the sweater across the room, Jimin huffed in annoyance and flopped on the bed in defeat. He sighed, rather loudly, to acquire the attention of his husband that was humming blissfully while brushing his teeth. Jimin scratched his scalp teetering a violent edge.
“Jungkook-ah,” Jimin called, the boy’s head popping out the doorway, looking into the bedroom, waiting for what Jimin had to say, “do we have to go? I’m way too tired.”
Jungkook visibly deflated, and furrowed his brows, holding up a finger for his spouse to wait while he spit out the toothpaste, and rinsed his mouth. Soon he was back, free of paste, and brush no longer in his hand, but rather that then the slight disappointment on Jungkook’s face.
“Hyung, you know how important this dinner is. Why don’t you want to go? You were all for getting out of the house thirty minutes ago.”
“That’s because thirty minutes ago I thought I could fit at least one of my dress shirts, but I literally can’t even get the buttons to even touch,” Jimin sulked, looking down at his enlarged belly, top half of himself naked because he’d been trying on so many shirts back to back that could no longer fit him properly.
Jungkook fought the urge to chuckle, but Jimin noticed and became even more agitated.
“It’s not funny, Jungkook. All I can fit are baggy shirts and sweat pants, and I’m getting to the point where I can’t even walk two feet without feeling out of breath,” Jimin rose to his feet (with some struggle) and crossed the few steps it took to lean his forehead against Jungkook’s chest, in need of affection in lieu of his shitty mood, “–I’m literally miserable, and you’re laughing at me. Why couldn’t you be the one to carry the baby?” Jimin asked, wrapping short arms around the taller male’s waist, head still resting on his husband’s defined pecs.
Jimin felt the vibration of Jungkook chortling again, and he kind of wants to kick his ass right now.
“Because I wouldn’t have looked nearly as adorable,” Jungkook reasoned, reciprocating the actions, and embracing Jimin like a warm blanket, “look at you, baby, you’re so adorable with your cute chubby cheeks, and your wittle chubby hands.”
Jimin fought the urge to smile, a blush creeping up on his cheeks that he hid, burying his face into Jungkook’s chest further, but he refuted seconds after, digging a finger into Jungkook’s stomach, “I’m a grown ass man, I don’t want to be 'chubby’, 'wittle’ and 'cute’, baby you’re not helping.”
Jungkook squeezed him in his arms lightly, then trailed his arms down to the elder’s ass, pressing into it a light tap before it was a full on grope, “well your ass is getting a lot bigger if that makes you feel more PG, and I think I’ve fallen in love with you further because of it.”
Jimin lifted his head to narrow his eyes at the younger, hitting his chest and shaking his head, “such an asshole,” –nothing but lightheartedness behind it.
Jungkook smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss against Jimin’s lips, the elder tilting his head back, puckering his lips to meet the younger half way, and was still surprised by the amount of butterflies that erupted in him with how sweet it was. They’ve been together since fucking Adam and Eve, Jungkook shouldn’t make him feel this way still. But he’s not exactly complaining, he’ll never lose the amount of love he has for the little shit.
The sensation of Jungkook’s bare palms meeting Jimin’s bare skin covering his stomach made Jimin jump slightly, and shiver due to Jungkook’s chilly hands. Jimin broke the kiss, a permanent smile etched onto his lips like some kind of giddy middle-schooler.
“I know you don’t like the burden of being pregnant, my love, and I’m sorry,” Jungkook began, kissing Jimin’s forehead while simultaneously rubbing the softest circles into his skin where the medium sized bump perched, “but you have the most precious thing in the world inside of you. I know you feel like shit all the time, but honestly, baby I’ve never seen you glow so much. You look absolutely amazing.”
“Jungkook,” Jimin whined, not expecting the moment to turn so fucking cheesy but he loved every second of it. Hiding his blush, he covered his mouth with his hand, his smile too big and amused to his liking, but Jungkook pulled it away a millisecond later.
He let out multiple chuckles, looking Jimin right in the eyes, “You are. You’re so gorgeous, and I cannot wait for our child to be born. There’s no one in the world I’d rather share something so special with. No one in the world I’d dedicate so much to. Do you know how much I love you Park Jimin?”
Jimin’s going to burst in this moment. It never takes much for the guy to explode, and Jungkook is the fucking corn master right now.
“Not enough to remember my last name.”
“Oh, right, my bad Mr. Jeon, I forgot you were married to- huh, what’s his name?”
Jimin’s eyes curved with his signature grin, warming up Jungkook’s heart, and making him melt, “Jungkook. He’s an idiot, but he’s my idiot.”
“Jungkook, eh?” Jungkook asked, running his hands through chestnut strands, stationed on the nape of Jimin’s neck, his other arm resting peacefully on Jimin’s left hip, “seems like a cool guy.”
“I can’t believe I married such a loser.”
Monday, October 13th, 2025; 3:36 AM
“Did you have a good birthday?” Jungkook asked, his voice slightly altered due to speaking through the phone. Jimin laid quietly in the dark, staring at the ceiling regardless of the fact that he couldn’t see it. His phone laid on speaker next to his head as his hands rested on his stomach that was completely deflated, and was even beginning to redefine in muscle.
'Would’ve been better if my husband and I were together, and well,’ he wanted to say, but he didn’t have the energy to be bitter. Not now, especially since Seungmi had just fallen asleep because that comment would most definitely lead to an argument.
“It was the same as it is every year,” Jimin settled with, a small sigh following afterward.
Jungkook was silent on the other end for a second, then his voice rang through Jimin’s ear, “I made you a–” Jungkook seemed to stutter, or at least not know how to word what he was trying to say, “I made you a mix tape – of your favorite songs — our favorite songs.”
Jimin fought the smallest smile that was going to raise on his lips, and hummed instead, “did you?”
Jungkook exhaled a small 'yeah’, “except, I sung them all.”
Jimin actually did smile. It was thoughtful. A thoughtful gift. Music was always something they shared with each other, something they had deep passion for, despite neither of them taking a profession in it. They had similar tastes in music, and before they were married, would often share so many songs with each other, and listen to them for hours on end, or make love to them, or cuddle to them.
Jimin loved Jungkook’s singing voice, too. It took forever for Jimin to break Jungkook’s shell after finding out about his singing ability. He remembers hearing it back when they were in college, Jungkook’s angelic voice bouncing off the shower walls while he cleaned his body, and Jimin had never heard something more beautiful, and was a little upset Jungkook hid that part of himself from him. Jimin can be persuasive, though, and soon enough got Jungkook to start singing to him, no matter how awkward the younger felt doing it at first.
This gift was nostalgic, because Jungkook hadn’t sung for him alone in years – he sung to Seungmi sometimes to calm him down, but other than that, Jimin never heard a note. This was sweet, and Jimin was glad to know that Jungkook hadn’t abandoned everything about their relationship like he had been the passed couple months.
“That’s sweet, Jungkook,” Jimin said, and Jungkook almost winced at the unfamiliarity in Jimin using his whole, real name – “thank you.”
“I could bring it to you now,” Jungkook offered, and Jimin almost said yes, he hadn’t seen Jungkook’s face in a few days, and he missed it, missed touching him, missed kissing him, missed getting made love to by him and reciprocating that love, but Jimin knew right now wasn’t a good time.
“I don’t think that’d be a good idea. Seungmi just fell asleep, and I’m too tired to even answer the door.”
“Okay,” Jungkook responded.
There was a silence between them for a minute, just breathing being shared, then Jungkook was speaking again, “I want to come home, hyung.”
Jimin sighed deeply, he wasn’t in the mood to speak about this right now, didn’t feel like repeating to Jungkook something that they’ve talked about countless times in the passed four months that they have been separated. Jimin missed the younger, with all his heart, but he doesn’t know how ready he was to be ignored, to be lonely, to take full responsibility of Seungmi all day while Jungkook took his job more seriously than his family. He doesn’t know when he will be ready, but right now wasn’t it. Jungkook being gone felt the same when he was here except the bed was warmer in the wee morning hours, now he was cold all the time, but his heart still hurt all the same.
“Can you play the CD right now?” Jimin simply ignored his plea, and changed the subject. Jimin knew Jungkook liked singing slow, soft songs and he could use a lullaby right now.
“–I miss hearing you sing,” Jimin interrupted, hoping Jungkook got the hint, and luckily he did.
He heard Jungkook’s sigh, and he almost felt bad, but not for long. He waited patiently.
“Yeah, I can. Is it anything you want to hear in particular?”
Jimin thought this over for a moment, “Did you do Fools?”
“You know I did,” Jungkook responded, and Jimin chuckled lightly.
“Then play that first.”
There was silence momentarily before Jimin heard the soft sound of piano. It was only slightly distorted, but not enough to lose that much affect. Soon, Jungkook’s voice was filling Jimin’s ear alongside it, and it instantly gave Jimin goosebumps.
The song was kind of ironic for Jungkook to sing, Jimin thought.
–but everything is shattering and it’s my mistake
Only fools fall for you, only fools
Only fools do what I do, only fools fall
Only fools fall for you, only fools
Only fools do what I do, only fools fall
Shouldn’t Jimin be the one singing about being a fool?
Saturday, September 11, 2032; 7:52 PM → Present
Walking along the sidewalk, small smile still lingering on his lips, Jimin stared out at all the distance before them – the night so alluring. The stars were more visual than usual, more obvious in their presence, and the wind blew just right, a little on the chillier side, but Jimin liked the colder seasons more.
The weight of Namjoon’s hand in his suddenly became heavy due to Namjoon tugging it for Jimin to stop, guiding the younger toward the edge of the fountain fixture. It was amazing – a real sight to behold. It was full of waterworks and kaleidoscope colors, and one of Jimin’s favorite attractions in Seoul. Jimin wondered briefly what was up with Namjoon tonight. I mean, the elder was selfless, they usually did everything that Jimin loved to do, or went wherever Jimin loved to go, and even when Jimin was tired of feeling self-indulgent, and damn-near begged Namjoon to take him to that stupid little Deli shop for a date just because the elder loved it so much, Namjoon knew what he was up to.
'I like making you happy, Jimin. If I was miserable, you would be the first to know.’
So, Jimin, after awhile, took this as it was, but he still felt like a spoiled little brat.
Namjoon set their to-go boxes on the ledge of the railing, and only took in the fountain for a moment before he was staring at something much more exciting in his opinion. Jimin hadn’t felt his gaze though, not until Namjoon spoke.
“Do you have any idea how much I love you?” Namjoon asked, and Jimin looked up at the elder, who had quite a few inches on him, and hid his blush behind the collar of his jacket, “I have an idea,” Jimin replied, a smile lifting high cheekbones as he molded himself to Namjoon’s side, wrapping arms around the younger’s waist, “I’d love some clarification though.”
Jimin nodded cutely, poking out his lips slightly, closing his eyes, his chin resting on Namjoon’s shoulder, expecting the press of lips but instead was greeted with the cold as Namjoon unwound him, and disappeared all together.
When Jimin opened his eyes, he saw nothing but air, and a lonely woman a few feet down from them, but when he looked down, boy was he not fucking ready.
Namjoon was on his knee, grasping Jimin’s hand in both his own.
It felt so familiar.
Saturday, July 3, 2021; 10:02PM
“Hyung,” Jungkook whined, itching to get his hand out the elder’s despite the excitement, and the emotion welling up in his chest.
Jimin was down on one knee, offering Jungkook a ring that suited his masculinity, and taste, the gold of the band gleaming in the ray of the moon. Jungkook’s cheeks were extremely heated, and might as well be replaced with tomatoes instead, Jimin’s smug smile infuriating the younger in the most endearing of ways.
“Well?” Jimin asked, nudging Jungkook’s thumb with the velvet of the box, “will you marry me?”
Jungkook’s stomach was screaming with yeses, and he was so very close to screaming the yes himself when Jimin interrupted him again, “Be careful now,” the elder warned, “because once you Jimin, you can’t Jimout.”
Jungkook stared down at the elder with a straight face, literally hating him for that line before Jimin busted out in a laugh, causing Jungkook to shake his head, “I’m getting ready to Jim the fuck out if you use that line on me again.”
“I love you, Jungkookie. My little schnuckums, my cutie pie. I knew from the very moment I saw you with those horrible sweat stains, and ankles just on the brink of giving out that you would be mine. I should have proposed to you right then, but I didn’t have a ring, sadly. But believe me, Kookie, I was ready to marry you the moment I saw you, almost at your worse,” Jimin chuckled, the running joke of how lost and confused Jungkook was when they met, and the younger nudged his shoulder because of this, “so what will you say?”
“Yes,” Jungkook mumbled, not wanting to sound as lame as he felt, but this wasn’t good enough for Jimin.
“What was that? I didn’t hear you.”
“Yes! You lame little jamless boy, I will marry you!”
Jimin has never thought a (lame) insult could sound so sweet. Soon he was sliding the ring on Jungkook’s finger, and back on his feet, throwing himself in the younger’s chest, their lips meeting hard, and rougher than intended, but they got the groove soon after. It was passionate, it was raw, and emotional and Jimin didn’t even realize he was crying, and that they were in the middle of a fucking park until people were applauding, and when he looked up, he was pretty sure Jungkook was ready to crawl in his bellybutton. His
boyfriend fiancée never liked attention.
When the applause died down, and people paid less attention to them, Jimin wrapped himself in the younger’s arms, and pressed a soft kiss to his Adam’s apple, “I love you so much, Jungkookie,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around Jungkook’s waist and holding on tight as if Jungkook would disappear and leave the ring behind.
“I love you too, Jiminie-hyung. Soon to be Jiminie-husband, and I can’t wait to be married to you.”
Jimin chuckled softly, pressing a kitten peck on Jungkook’s chin, “Jiminie-husband? And you call me lame?”
“Jimin?” Namjoon called, and Jimin barely registered that he zoned completely out while his boyfriend was freaking proposing to him, and instead thinking about the moment he was engaged to his ex, and baby-daddy. God was gone’ get him.
Jimin hadn’t even realized he was crying, and judging by Namjoon’s satisfied expression, the elder must have thought it was because of him – that these were happy tears.
“Do I have to say everything again? Because I’ll say it a million more times, my love. I love you so much, and I just want you to be mine. I want to live alongside you as your husband, and I don’t think I can wait any longer, baby.”
Jimin looked down at the ring, and it was absolutely gorgeous. It had to have cost the elder so much – and considering he wasn’t as well off as Jimin, the younger knew it had to hurt his pocket, but he did it out of love. He thought about the ring Jungkook had given him shortly after he proposed to the younger, and he had half a mind to tell Namjoon not to waste so much money and that he can just wear the one Jungkook gave him, but Jimin figured (knew) that it would be the hugest smack to Namjoon’s face. He couldn’t hurt the elder’s pride like that. He wouldn’t dare.
Jimin didn’t know why Jungkook was pressing himself in the forefront of Jimin’s mind while Namjoon was pouring his heart out to him, he didn’t know why he felt apprehensive, didn’t know why this felt wrong. He has been with Namjoon for three plus years. He’s familiar with the elder, and Namjoon helped him through such a hard time in his life – helped him with how much Jungkook had hurt him. Helped him cope with the pain of finding out what Jungkook had done to him. He doesn’t think he can imagine a time when Namjoon wasn’t by his side, patient as a saint while Jimin’s heart was torn out of his chest by another man he still to this day never got over. It wasn’t wrong…was it?
“So what do you say?” Namjoon asked, and Jimin closed his eyes, tears forcing themselves passed his lids, despite his effort for them not to. He forced a smile. Namjoon doesn’t deserve anything less. Jimin has been selfish with the elder for years, and it’s not like he couldn’t be happy with him. He owed him this didn’t he?
But there was no applause.
Thursday, April 1, 2027; 7:30 PM
“Jimin, what do you expect me to do?! Tell me exactly what you think I’m supposed to do, hyung. I’m a fucking lawyer, I don’t sit at a fucking desk and cut checks all day. My job isn’t that easy. I’m sorry, baby, I wish it was.”
Jimin looked up at his husband as if he was insane (which he was), “This isn’t even only about your fucking job anymore, Jungkook.”
“Then what?! What the fuck do you keep nagging to me about?”
“Nagging? Don’t make me sound like your goddamn mother! I’m your husband, did you forget that? Has all the success gotten to your fucking head? Your family should be your top priority. Did you forget you have a fucking son?” Jimin shot, somehow winding up closer and closer to larger male the more upset he became.
“What kind of question–” Jungkook interrupted himself, his eyes soon narrowing at Jimin as if he figured something out, as if he knew what he was being accused of, if anything, “what are you trying to say?”
“I’m just trying to remind you of the life you have when you don’t come home 'til late at night. I doubt you’re at the office 14 hours a day, so what are you doing when you’re not here or at work?” Jimin asked, something that had been bugging his brain day in, day out since Jungkook’s disappearance started. He’d come home so late sometimes, that only an hour or two later the sun would rise again, and Jimin just didn’t understand why. He had entertained an idea, but never in a million years would he think that. Jungkook would never. Jimin called himself nuts for thinking that. But, when he’d call, Jungkook wouldn’t pick up, or he’d have some kind of excuse prepared, and Jimin had enough. They’d just gotten back together from their separation last year, and Jimin didn’t expect for things to be rocky between them again so soon.
Seungmi was turning two in 3 days, and Jimin didn’t even know if Jungkook was aware that he was throwing a party for him, much less attending it.
“Minding my business, Jimin. That’s what I’m doing.” And that was way too snarky for Jimin to bare. Minding his business? He’d lost his damn mind.
“In a marriage there isn’t a your business, or my business, it’s our business, Jungkook. You’re so fucking disrespectful,” Jimin spat, his nose scrunched in distaste as he opted to get away from Jungkook instead of continuing this – it’d only lead to more arguing and Jimin was so tired.
“Yeah, whatever. Are you done?” Jungkook replied, crossing their large living room to go over to their kitchen – elaborate and fancy, proving Jungkook’s wealth and devotion to his job. Jimin hated looking at all the fluff sometimes. Jimin was going to say something sarcastic, something that he knew would piss Jungkook off, but then there was a soft, 'Papa,’, coming from upstairs, and it sounded awfully teary, and Jimin just knew it wasn’t worth it.
“Yeah–” Jimin said, hand on the railing as his heavy feet thudded against the steps, “–I’m done.”
And despite Jungkook’s fake disinterest, Jimin’s words sounded like they had more meanings than just one.
Thursday, May 27, 2027; 1:49 PM
Jimin creeped in the bedroom, feeling odd, considering he lives here too, but he had to make this quick. Jungkook had just gotten into the shower, and Jimin wasn’t sure if he would get many chances to do this again.
Flopping on Jungkook’s side of the bed, Jimin grabbed Jungkook’s phone on the charger, and pressed his thumb against the fingerprint scanner. Jimin has been suspicious and on edge for months. He couldn’t stand not knowing what was going on with his husband anymore. He couldn’t stand the distance between them that only seemed to get larger and larger as time passed, he needed to know why, so one day, Jimin lied to Jungkook about his phone being broken and asked Jungkook if he could use his phone to call his mother. Jimin watched carefully at the numbers Jungkook typed in his password, and when Jungkook sat on the couch behind Jimin, the elder shielded himself slightly, and tapped into Jungkook’s security section of his phone, and entered his fingerprint inside of it, alongside Jungkook’s.
Jimin pretended to fake call his mother, but threw Jungkook’s phone back to him with the excuse of his mother not answering.
Now, here he is, looking through Jungkook’s phone with no real indication of what he was looking for.
'You know, Jimin-ah, when you go looking for something – you’ll find it.’
Jimin could hear his grandmother’s voice. That quote was something he always heard, and for some reason, he felt like she was watching over him right now. The quote popping into his head felt like a warning of nothing but turmoil coming ahead if he didn’t stop this right now. But he couldn’t. He had to know.
Jimin was coming up short for a while, looking through each of Jungkook’s apps for something that could supply evidence of Jimin’s theories, but when it finally dawned on him that Jungkook wasn’t smart enough to download a messaging app, and would blatantly do things in the broad outdoors in his messaging, Jimin clicked the little green box.
The shower was still running strong, and Jungkook was even humming in there – he had time.
Jungkook had a long list of contacts, and the first couple were innocent co-worker interactions about what would be the next step in trial, or things that they have to get to make a strong prosecution, stuff that Jimin couldn’t care less about, but a contact captured Jimin’s attention in particular.
The name of it was 'Case 1040’. Jimin remembered seeing that contact one of the few nights Jungkook and Jimin spent together. Jimin remembered inquiring about it while Jungkook left the room to take the call, and Jungkook had told him it was just a victim’s family member that he was working with to bring a suspect into court. Jimin remembered thinking it sounded odd, that someone would be calling so late in the night, but at the time he thought nothing of it.
But an odder sight is of that person texting him. He’d never heard of a client and a lawyer texting between each other, and Jimin already felt his stomach drop, and his heart stutter in it’s beat.
Today, 12:04 AM
Tomorrow @ 10AM
You don’t mind if I come, yeah?
Before Jimin read anything more recent, he scrolled up to try and figure out what they were talking about. The English was a bit hard for him to understand, but he was getting the gist. This person had to be foreign.
Yesterday, 11:37 PM
Is he going to be gone long? He’s taking your
son with him right? I could just like stay over
for the weekend so you don’t have to keep
driving back and forth
Sleep over?? I don’t know that’s
disrespectful to my husband
Jasmine. There’s no need for
you to be over here. when
is your next appointment?
Jimin scrolled back down to where he left off.
Today, 12:10 AM
No, I don’t mind. I’m close with my doctor
and she really wanted to meet you
Because I’m having a baby, Jungkook She’s
like my godmother of course she’d want to
meet the father??
Jimin had never felt air leave his body so quickly. 'Of course she’d want to meet the father??’ Eight words that killed him in less than eight seconds. Jimin couldn’t even see anymore. His tears had blinded his vision, and a sob racked his body as he threw the phone to the floor. He didn’t want it to be true – who in their right mind would? But he suspected something like this for so long. He suspected that Jungkook had been cheating on him – in someway, not even necessarily to the extent of sex. But he got someone pregnant.
His husband knocked up some foreign woman. The person he devoted so much of his love, and life to cheated on him, and is having a child that he has yet to tell his husband about. Once you go looking for something, you’ll find it has never been so true, and Jimin could not fucking breathe. He had to get out of there, he had to leave. He couldn’t stay there.
Jimin found himself stuffing clothes into a bag, like all the cliché movies of a woman hurt by her husband, and impulsively running from the situation at hand. He still couldn’t see properly considering his tears were flowing like a waterfall, but it’s not like he needed to see – not like whatever clothes he picked mattered. What mattered was leaving, and trying to make it out even with his heart broken into so many pieces. He gave Jungkook the benefit of the doubt, but he was terribly wrong.
Jimin zipped up his bag, and power-walked into Seungmi’s room, hastily collecting things to pack for his son, because he was taking him with him, and while he was doing that, he heard a soft 'what the fuck?’ come from Jungkook’s mouth, probably at the mess Jimin left while he was searching for his clothes, and ripping out and throwing Jungkook’s everywhere to find his own, or possibly at his phone cracked and on the ground. Jimin didn’t give a single flying fuck about any of that though.
“Jimin!” Jungkook called, frustration and anger obvious in his tone, but Jimin was just zipping up Seungmi’s bag and he just wanted to leave. He didn’t want to even fucking look at Jungkook.
Jungkook was leaning against the door, his hair was wet, and his torso glistened with water as he had nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, “what the fuck is your problem? Did you crack my phone?” Jimin’s back was faced the younger because he was shedding too many tears still. Jungkook didn’t comment on the packing because like the texts between Jungkook and his mistress stated, he was going out of town to visit relatives over the weekend, so packing was normal, what wasn’t normal was the mess, and Jungkook was unaware of the fact that he had no right to come to Jimin like that.
Jimin refused to turn around, and Jungkook was getting impatient. “Jimin, what are you doing? Answer me.”
Jimin didn’t budge, and Jungkook had had enough of his odd behavior. Jungkook crossed the room, and gripped Jimin shoulder to turn him around, but when he pulled away, he felt searing pain in his jaw, his head had whipped to the side, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say Jimin had punched him.
But if Jimin’s angry, bloodshot, tear-filled eyes, and balled fist was anything to go by, he was sure that Jimin had punched him – extremely hard to the point of tasting crimson copper faintly. Jungkook looked down at the elder, his brows furrowing harshly as he pressed his palm to the line of his jaw and was two seconds away from pining Jimin down, and demanding Jimin to tell him why the fuck he just did that, but was stopped, and his blood ran cold.
“Who the fuck is Jasmine?”
And Jungkook knew that Jimin knew. There was no other explanation, and every angry, frustrated part of Jungkook vanished, even the pain of the punch seemed to melt away as he was flooded with apologetic remorse.
“–I want a divorce,” Jimin interrupted, and Jungkook almost felt the same amount of pain that Jimin had. He visibly slumped and light (whatever was left) left his eyes completely. Almost exactly how Jimin felt, except this right here was nothing compared to how much Jimin hurt. He wasn’t sure how he even could function and croak legible words right now – maybe it was the anger helping him out, and later when he was settled in his old room at his mother’s house, the pain would hit him for real, ten times harder and he’ll be an absolute mess. Hurt, and betrayed.
“Jimin, listen to me–”
“There’s nothing to fucking listen to! I saw the texts! I saw some fucking woman talking about sleeping here while I was gone, I saw you wanting to attend the appointment for the checkup of your pregnant fucking mistress. There’s nothing for you to explain. I don’t care! I fucking hate you! I’ve given you so much, so many fucking chances. I gave my entire life to you and our son, and then you spit back in my face! There’s absolutely no forgiving that and you’re a selfish piece of shit for even trying to justify any of it. I hate you and I want you to go to fucking hell,” Jimin yelled, and soon after that, Seungmi began to cry in his bed. Jimin stopped glaring at Jungkook to go attend to his child.
He picked Seungmi up, and balanced him on his hip, letting the child rest his head on his shoulder, and he slung Seungmi’s bag over his other shoulder, “where are you going?” Jungkook finally spoke, his voice small, and insignificant after his shocked, and hurt stupor wore off, and Jimin just bumped him with his shoulder, “move the fuck out of my way.”
Jungkook couldn’t handle this. He’d never seen Jimin like this – never seen him so mean, so hurt. Jungkook couldn’t handle it. Never in their 11 years together has Jimin ever acted like this toward Jungkook – never purposely tried to hurt him, and Jungkook couldn’t fucking take it. Tears began to well up because this was the end of them, and Jungkook knew it to be true this time.
Jungkook followed Jimin into their bedroom, calling his name multiple times like the weak little piece of shit he knew he was. Jimin had every right – he should have done worse.
“Stop calling my fucking name! You weren’t calling it when you were balls deep in some foreign bitch!” Jimin yelled, jostling around to face Jungkook, waking their sleeping child, who would soon begin to cry because Seungmi had a knack for detecting bad energy, and this was definitely bad energy.
“Jimin! I’m sorry, okay?! I was drunk! It’s no excuse, baby! I know that! But please just, please don’t leave! We have to talk about this–”
“Talk about it?! We should have 'talked about this’ right after you fucked that fucking slut and put your disgusting arms around me the same night. You did that didn’t you? You fucked someone else, and had the fucking nerve to hold me the next hour didn’t you?” Jimin asked, staring right into Jungkook’s eyes that didn’t have the strength to meet his own. That was true, and Jungkook didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing – but Jimin knew him well enough.
“You’re fucking disgusting, you know that?” Jimin asked, grabbing his own bag and hobbling out of the room with a struggle of two large bags and a crying child on his hip.
“Daddy!” Seungmi called out to Jungkook, scrunching his two fists, requesting to be held by the biggest of the three, but Jimin wasn’t having it.
Jungkook didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t stop Jimin, he couldn’t justify himself. He was completely wrong, and everything hurt and he felt so dumb. So fucking stupid.
Once Jimin made it to the door, he locked eyes with Jungkook’s teared up ones, they matched in that respect despite Jimin’s anger, Jimin scoffed and put one of the bags down to access his finger. Once Jungkook realized what the elder was doing, a whine escaped him, as he tried to stop Jimin but he was too far up the steps, and he had already felt the silver metal of Jimin’s ring hit his forehead, and the clink against the stairs as it fell.
When Jungkook looked at Jimin again instead of the diamond incrusted piece of jewelry, he was met with a teary face that looked immensely distraught, the anger still felt in the air, but visibly replaced by sorrow, and Jungkook has never hated himself so much in his life in this moment.
“I loved you so much, Jungkook,” was the last thing Jimin said before he picked up the bag he had placed down, and was out the door with Jungkook’s son, and his heart.
Jimin wanted to feel, Jimin wanted to be so immersed in what Namjoon was doing to him – the deep and slow sliding of his cock in and out of Jimin in celebration of their engagement was supposed to be emotional, but he couldn’t feel anything. His mind was flooded with thoughts that shouldn’t have drowned him.
“You’re so beautiful,” Namjoon croaked out, pleasure and happiness blocking his speech from coming out as clear and pure as they normally would, “I love you so much.”
Why did Jimin feel so bad?
It’s been five years, and Jimin had never thought about Jungkook or ever getting back together, so why did it take truly moving on to someone else for his heart to cry?
Jimin forced his orgasm, because being a man was a little tricky to fake it, and he smiled lazily at Namjoon, loving the weight of the other lifting off of him, but it didn’t release the weight from his heart.
As Namjoon slept, Jimin cradled to his side, cheek on Namjoon’s pec, Jimin’s gaze was focused on the ring he was given, rotating it around his finger with his thumb. The ring felt like it was a thousand pounds, the diamonds gleamed in mockery.
Jimin didn’t know where any of this was coming from. Namjoon had never forced him to do anything. Namjoon never pressured him into anything. Namjoon was nothing but good to him, nothing but patience and understanding personified. Namjoon was a rock, so when being in a relationship was presented to him, he thought it only made sense to be with someone who saved you. Who was there when no one else was, or helped you when you thought no one else would understand. Jimin didn’t see that far ahead, didn’t foresee an actual future with Namjoon, but it was nice. He was constant, and Namjoon made it hurt less.
He never felt like he had to give Namjoon anything, but he felt selfish even considering the idea of saying no. What were they going to do to move forward? The next step was marriage anyways, right? Jimin couldn’t be a boyfriend forever could he? He was happy with Namjoon, that was a given, but not happy enough for marriage was the question. Not while the someone he saw committing the rest of his life to still lurked about – still was around and well.
Jimin never wanted to feel like he trapped himself in a marriage, but in this moment? He might as well be clamping the shackles.
Sunday, September 12, 2032; 6:19 PM → Present
“It’s Jungkook, babe,” Namjoon called from the living room, probably fully dressed (Jimin never understood how he could get ready so quickly). Jimin unplugged the flat iron out of the wall and sauntered to the door, not in that much of a hurry considering they’ve got a little under an hour – his mother didn’t live far.
Opening the door, he was instantly greeted with the sight of Seungmi, and Jungkook, something he’s missed.
“Papa!” Seungmi exclaimed, and quite literally jumped on Jimin, uncharacteristically excited to see him coming from his other father. Usually Seungmi didn’t want to leave his Appa on the weekends, especially not early, but Jimin couldn’t even begin to try to guess what might have triggered the little kid to miss him so much, it was welcome regardless.
“Hi, baby boy!” Jimin chuckled, picking up his son and wrapping him in a tight hug, and kissing his cheeks, “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too, Papa. I have so many pictures, and new toys from the museum that Daddy bought me. I want to show you, Papa!” Oh, so that’s why? Jimin chortled, “not right now, Mi, we have to get ready to go to Grandma’s, bud.”
“Are my cousins going to be there?”
“Yes,” Jimin assured, setting his child to his feet.
“Can I take my pictures and toys to show Minho, and Sooyoung?”
Jimin hummed affirmation, and Seungmi squealed with excitement, and chimed, “okay.”
After kissing his father goodbye (who was very quiet during the whole interaction), Seungmi went skipping into the house, settling down with his iPad somewhere until they have to leave.
Jimin looked toward the younger finally, and held out his hand for Seungmi’s night bag when Jungkook paused.
Jimin quirked a brow, and was going to ask him what was wrong but his gaze was concentrated and easy to follow, so Jimin did, and of course.
“What is that?” Jungkook asked, his voice low and monotonous.
“What does it look like?” Jimin asked, a little snarky and annoyed, but Jungkook isn’t in a position to inquire about Jimin or his life, “hand me the bag, Jungkook.”
“That’s not what I think it is, Jimin? Please don’t say that that’s so – please–”
“It’s not any of your business, Jungkook, please give me the bag,” Jimin blissfully ignored how Jungkook’s voice went from curious to desperate in a matter of seconds.
But his expression changed. He looked solemn, and kept Seungmi’s bag tight in his hold as he looked down at his feet.
“We really are done, huh?” Jungkook mumbled, “you went and got engaged, so I guess that was kind of a message to me that we’d never be together again?”
“Jungkook, please don’t start, okay?”
“I will fucking start, Jimin!” Jimin jumped because one minute Jungkook was mumbling and quiet as a mouse, and the next he was yelling. Jimin looked back to see if that disrupted his family, but both Namjoon and Seungmi had headphones on, and music of different kinds blasting, Jimin closed the door slightly,“I thought that—that whatever it was that you two were was temporary. That—that he’d be gone eventually, and that all you needed was time, and a person by your side for the time being. I thought that we could work it out, Jimin. I thought–”
“Well you thought a lot of things, Jungkook,” Jimin interrupted. He saw the bag gripped and behind Jungkook’s back, and sighed softly, wishing his ex wasn’t so difficult, “please give me the bag and goodbye. Namjoon might hear you and–”
“Do I look like a give a fuck if he hears me?!” Jungkook snarled angrily, no doubt his intentions being to alert Namjoon.
“What was that?” Namjoon snapped, getting up from the couch, and snatching his earphones out of his ears. “What the fuck did you say?”
Jimin could not fucking believe this – he honestly couldn’t. Jimin pissed the bridge of his nose, a habit he picked up when he’d been annoyed.
Jimin instantly tried to cool Namjoon by holding his hands, and trying to make Namjoon focus on him. He already knew where this would go because it’s happened before, many times, and he can’t have the neighbors complaining to the police – again.
“Namjoon, baby, please – I can handle him myself alright? Just take Seungmi upstairs and–”
“You heard me – otherwise you wouldn’t be standing there high off your own fucking testosterone. Don’t know why you got up like you’re going to do something, take your ass upstairs like he told you to, bitch ass,” Jungkook spat as he challenged Namjoon’s masculinity.
That did nothing but rile him up.
“Jungkook, just fucking leave!” Jimin demanded, his weak attempts of holding Namjoon back failing as the elder just pushed him forward with him.
“Shut the fuck up, you fucking bastard! What the fuck are you even mad about? It’s the ring isn’t it? You seen it, and it made the little brat upset, didn’t it? You’re the one that cheated on a dime to settle for a fucking penny. So you have no place to be mad, you fucking idiot.”
“Don’t say shit about what happened between us! Stay in your low ass fucking place, and go upstairs like you were told you fucking lapdog,” Jungkook continued, and Jimin was just speaking words that were unheard to either of them at this point. He simply opted to close the door to block their communication, but Namjoon quickly stopped it, and jerked it wide open again.
“I’d rather be Jimin’s lapdog than to be nothing to him at all, you stupid fuck. Look where you are. Outside, on the porch, and Jimin just tried to close the fucking door on you–”
“–you don’t mean shit to him, Jungkook, you stupid kid, why do you continue to try? You see this?” Jimin felt the tight embrace of Namjoon wrapping his arm around his waist engulf him, and Jimin flushed in discomfort. It’s not that Namjoon holding him disgusted him, but the reason for him doing it now made him uncomfortable. It was for bragging rights – because if Namjoon knew anything, it’s that Jungkook was extremely prideful, and anyone with eyes knew he was full of pride about Jimin – but Jimin was clearly not his anymore. Before he could even unwind himself, Namjoon kissed him square on the lips, a short kiss but dirty. Dirty and deep with Namjoon’s fingers squeezing his jaw to keep him in place.
When Namjoon let go, Jimin ripped away as if he was burned.
“He’s all fucking mine, and what do you have? Some slut’s son to care of,” Namjoon bragged with a smug look that Jimin couldn’t fucking stand. It was low to bring someone’s child into it, especially for Namjoon.
He was generally a calm, and collected person, but when it came to Jungkook, Namjoon just seemed to feel challenged, always throwing around the obvious fact that he has Jimin now, always has to belittle Jungkook in light of himself. Jimin didn’t understand it.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Jimin screamed, ripping far away from his grasp, but soon after that, a punch was landed to Namjoon’s face, and it wasn’t Jimin’s fist to do it.
Jungkook had dragged Namjoon out of the house after the first punch by the collar and landed quite a few more. As many times as Namjoon and Jungkook had went at it, it never went to the level of physical altercation – Jungkook must have fucking had it.
Jungkook managed to keep the upper-hand from there, clenching Namjoon’s hair between his fingers, and forcing the elder toward his knee, and plunging his kneecap into Namjoon’s nose several times, then throwing him to the ground.
Jimin didn’t even know what to fucking do, but the first thing that came to mind was Seungmi. Seungmi was standing in the hallway with a perfect view of outside the door, his eyes teary and wide, his father acting like a fucking maniac and hurting someone else. Seungmi shouldn’t have to see this. Jimin didn’t give a fuck if they killed each other, his son wasn’t going to watch it happen.
“Daddy!” Seungmi cried, his little legs taking him to go to Jungkook as if he could break up the fight to aid his father, but Jimin stopped him midway, shielding him from the chaos just outside their door.
“Seungmi, I need you to go upstairs for Papa, okay? I need you to go to your room, and stay up there until I tell you to come out,” Jimin closed the door, leaving the men outside to tussle, regardless of the fact that he could literally hear the fist to bone contact, and grabbed Seungmi’s iPad from the ground.
“Go put on your headphones and watch videos–”
“But Namjoon-hyung is hurting Daddy, Papa!”
“They’re not hurting, Seungmi-ah. They’re just a little angry, but Daddy’s not getting hurt okay? Those were little punches but they looked like they hurt because Daddy and Namjoon-hyung are big, tall and super strong, but they’re okay, okay? But you have to go upstairs right now, baby, okay?”
“Okay,” Seungmi agreed, and Jimin waited until he heard Seungmi’s door click shut before he opened the door revealing the fucking mess his lovers were. Jungkook had the upper hand even still, straddling the elder as punch after punch was being delivered to Namjoon’s face. Judging by the blood, and the swelling already starting to appear on Jungkook’s face, Namjoon had gotten multiple punches in when Jimin wasn’t looking regardless of his current predicament.
“Jungkook! Fucking stop it!” Jimin screamed, gripping the younger’s shoulder and pulling back with all his strength, sending the younger backwards onto the concrete, but Namjoon only saw this as a way to gain the upper hand because Namjoon rose faster than a man with his injury normally should, and resumed their fight, but punching Jungkook like Jungkook was punching him.
Blow after blow was administered to Jungkook’s face. Namjoon’s powerful fists sending bone crunching punch after another. Watching it did something to Jimin – more than watching Namjoon get beat had. Namjoon’s punches looked like they were literally breaking all of Jungkook’s fucking bones and Jimin couldn’t take it. His heart broke – Jungkook was his baby.
“Stop! Namjoon! Stop! You’re fucking hurting him!” Jimin literally screeched as he was beginning to notice Jungkook reacting less and less. Jimin charged forward, pushing Namjoon backward as hard as he could, making the elder fly backward. Yeah, Jimin was small, and a little dainty, but he was still a man with muscle no less, so Namjoon was a bit taken back by the strength he possessed.
Namjoon looked as if he was going to go back for more, regardless of Jimin’s cracked voice screaming at them both, but Jimin’s eyes were murderous, and stopped him from moving forward, more scared of what Jimin would do than bothered by the itch in his fists to break Jungkook’s fucking neck.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Jimin cursed, shielding Jungkook like some kind of lioness protecting her cubs, and Namjoon was astonished by the level of protection Jimin felt Jungkook needed – he felt envious of how much Jimin cared about Jungkook.
“He started the shit, Jimin!”
Jimin looked down at Jungkook’s face – it wasn’t completely bloody, but there definitely was some nasty cuts and bruises forming. No matter how tough Jungkook seemed, he never really fought, he was sheltered throughout a lot of his life, so fighting wasn’t a subject he was too familiar with – Jimin had no idea why he even instigated something like that.
“Jungkook,” Jimin called softly, brushing back the younger’s hair, and smearing away blood on his face, sitting on his knees behind Jungkook and resting his head on his lap, “Jungkook-ah, can you hear me?”
“He’s fucking fine. That’s all he wanted in the beginning of this shit, was to get babied by you like the brat he is, and you’re falling for it,” Namjoon swore, nursing his own ribs that felt bad enough to be broken, but he couldn’t feel pain with the anger rushing through his veins. He didn’t even think to hold his head back as blood spilled from his nose.
“Why don’t you shut the fuck up, hyung? You didn’t have to come to the fucking door all high and mighty. I told you I could fucking handle it! He’s not faking, he’s really hurt!” Jimin exasperated, and maybe he was over exaggerating just a bit. Jungkook wasn’t unconscious. His eyes fluttered open and closed multiple times while Jimin was going off on Namjoon, his sanity was what was to be questioned.
“Jungkookie,” Jimin called, running a finger down the side of the younger’s face, looking way too much like a frazzled lover than a concerned ex, and Namjoon quieted, despite his pain, to watch. To just sit and watch.
Jungkook coughed, causing Jimin to lean back a little bit to dodge it, as a little blood seemed to fly from the younger’s mouth. “Jungkook,” called Jimin again, taking a finger and wiping the blood from the side of his mouth, “can you hear me?” Jimin asked again.
“Yeah,” Jungkook replied, his voice croaky, and deep.
“You have to get off the ground, alright? We can’t stay out here. You need some water, or something,” Jimin offered, his voice becoming softer and softer as he continued to speak. He didn’t really know what to do in this situation. He just knew the injuries weren’t serious enough for a hospital visit, but Jungkook definitely can’t do anything on his own right now (or at least Jimin wouldn’t allow it).
“Okay,” Jungkook replied, and Jimin began to help him up. There was an excessive amount of grunting, and complaining, not even on Jungkook’s part, but Jimin’s. “Look at you – you fucking idiot. You did that in front of our son. I should push you in a fucking well.”
Jungkook just stayed silent as Jimin threw his arm over his own shoulders and helped him in.
Jimin layed Jungkook on their couch in the living room, telling him to stay there as he quickly went to go get something to wash Jungkook’s blood away, and some ice. When he came back, it had only occurred to Jimin that Namjoon still even existed because the elder made it inside, not bothering to shut the door behind him. He was making his way toward Jungkook – as if what just happened wasn’t enough, and Jimin almost dropped his bowl of ice trying to block Namjoon from hurting Jungkook again, but all Namjoon did was reach for his keys. Jimin felt idiotic, and guilty because Namjoon looked just as bad as Jungkook did, but Jimin wasn’t rushing to be his own fiancée’s nurse.
“We need to talk – in my car – when you’re done with him,” Namjoon requested, not even bothering to give Jimin a glance as he walked to the door, obviously opting to sit in the car instead of having to deal with watching Jungkook get pampered by his fiancée.
“Namjoon I can’t–”
“I wasn’t asking you to,” Namjoon interrupted, everything about him looking brooding and hurt. Jimin can’t believe this petty shit turned out like this. He swallowed – Namjoon never ordered him to do anything. He nodded, and Namjoon was leaving right after.
Jimin had already shed Jungkook of his overshirt, and began to rid his face of the blood that ensued from the fight when the younger started to speak, “You’re really marrying him?”
Jimin looked into his eyes momentarily, pressing the cloth gently against a scrape on his eyebrow and focusing on it again right after, “After all that just happened, that’s the only thing you’re worried about?”
Jungkook waited a beat, then said, “I love you Jimin,” Jimin sighed deeply, dabbing his face of blood and dirt from the bushes softly, “and I never thought that you’d really move on. That you’d truly leave me–” Jungkook began to sit up, and Jimin protested, pushing at Jungkook’s shoulder for him to lay back down but the younger wasn’t having it, “–call me selfish, and cocky but I was going to win you back one day, and I can’t, with a clear conscious, do that with you being a–a married man, Jimin. I love you and we weren’t supposed to be apart.”
Jimin swallowed, his eyes showing disinterest but he was listening, “you can crash in the guest room,” Jimin said, ignoring all of Jungkook’s words by giving no response to them, “I’m not letting you drive anywhere tonight–”
“No, I’m not staying here with that ass–”
“What did I just say?” Jimin snapped, having enough of Jungkook’s shit for the night.
“Okay,” Jungkook relented, not wanting to get Jimin anymore worked up than he already was.
“Okay, I’ll be right back – if Seungmi comes down, tell him to go back upstairs, I don’t want him to see you like this – yet,” Jimin ordered, and Jungkook simply nodded because he agreed.
After Jimin supplied Jungkook some water, and threw the bloody towel in a bucket, he shed the sweater he had put on to go to his mother’s (he’d have to call her later), and just threw on a plain t-shirt and made his way outside and into the car parked on the street instead of the driveway because Jungkook’s car was in the way.
Jimin took a deep breath, opened the passenger door and slid in.
For a minute they just sat there, both of them saying nothing – just looking out Namjoon’s windshield, the sprinkles of rain captivating Jimin as he had nothing better to do in the silence.
“You still love him, don’t you?” Namjoon’s baritone finally spoke, but Jimin almost felt like he didn’t have to answer it because Namjoon didn’t give him a choice – it sounded more like a statement.
As a matter of fact, Jimin didn’t know how to answer if he was honest. He felt ridiculous, this whole night was just so stupid and unnecessary and to think that Jungkook was sitting comfortably getting tended to for a couple of scrapes while Namjoon sat outside in the rain wondering where the fuck he went wrong, Jimin felt like shit, and he didn’t want to answer anything – it was clear and he didn’t want to lie or admit anything. He just wanted it to be morning and Jungkook to leave so he could be miserable but continue to pretend so Namjoon didn’t have to be hurt.
“Answer me,” Namjoon said, less of a bark and more of a plead, but he wasn’t looking at Jimin, was looking down at bloodied knuckles.
Jimin felt a tear slide down his cheek, his mouth opening and closing as he fought to say something but he didn’t know what to say to make it right – he didn’t know how to tell the obvious truth without hurting him, without tearing Namjoon’s heart out of his chest, without tearing his own out of his chest because he no doubt cared about Namjoon. He helped Jimin through so much. He was such a good support to Jimin in a bad time of his life, but, his heart didn’t call for the elder.
“It’s not that hard, Jimin,” Namjoon assured, his voice surprisingly calm, but it held an eeriness to it, an eeriness that suggested he was throwing in the towel, giving up, or at the very least hurting and Jimin wondered if sparing him even mattered – he was already torn.
“Of course I still love him. He’s my child’s father,” Jimin replied more tears falling as he looked over to Namjoon, turning his whole body to get his attention, “but it’s not–”
“You answered the question, I don’t want to hear anymore.” Jimin looked over at Namjoon, noticing his odd expression. Jimin doesn’t remember any prior incidents as far as Jungkook goes that could make Namjoon so upset. For years, Jungkook and Jimin’s only relations were through Seungmi, so why did Namjoon look like he has been to hell and back?
Jimin remained silent like he was asked, despite all the inquiries swirling in his brain. He quickly wiped the tears that was beginning to congregate at his chin, a sniffle coming In succession.
“You’re still in love with him,” Namjoon broke silence again, and this time he wasn’t even asking Jimin, he was telling the smaller, and Jimin’s natural instinct was to refute this, but Namjoon quickly defused him.
“Don’t fucking lie to me, Jimin! Don’t lie,” Namjoon hollered, but realizing how loud he was, he quieted, making eye contact with Jimin, finally, and the younger was shedding tears again, reaching out to touch Namjoon, but Namjoon wasn’t having it. He kept his own hand to himself, “you look at Jungkook – with so much – so much, well, love, Jimin. You look at him as if there’s no one in the universe other than the two of you. Like not even your son exists. Whenever you look at him, it’s like it wouldn’t matter if the sky fell, he’s in front of you, he’s there and that’s all that matters. All he endured tonight was some punches and some kicks, and you acted as if I ran over him with my truck. I– I can’t compete with that Jimin.”
Jimin was heartbroken. Namjoon was pouring his heart out right now, a tear or two included, and Jimin had known Namjoon was observant, poetic when he described things, knew he had good intuitions like God himself had given him the gift of just knowing, but being that intuitive, Jimin never heard of – or maybe Jimin just wasn’t as discreet as he wanted to give himself credit for.
Sometimes Jimin did feel like only him and Jungkook were the only ones here, surrounded by no one and nothing besides their love for each other. It wouldn’t matter if the sky fell, or an apocalypse plagued the world, or the ground fell underneath his feet – when Jungkook was there, Jimin felt like he had lived his life to the fullest every single day, despite some days being the worse of his life because of the younger, Jungkook and his son was all he ever needed. It doesn’t matter how miniscule any fight, injury, or illness, Jimin hated when Jungkook was hurt, hated when the love of his life was in pain, despite all the pain he caused Jimin and in hindsight, Jimin was a fool with a red nose. Jimin was so fucking stupid because he was still in love with Jeon Jungkook despite everything – despite the test of time, the test of loyalty, the test of strength in their relationship.
He’d go to the ends of the Earth for Jeon Jungkook, and he’s convinced Jungkook would do the same – one mistake doesn’t define a person’s love for someone else, Jimin believes. Jimin is coming to terms with the fact that all he really needed was time, and now that he’s had it, he’s realizing he still is in love with his first husband no less. Jungkook was the father of his child, his first marriage, his first love, an advocate for every dream Jimin ever had, and he loved Jungkook so fucking much. Even more than he loved himself, and he’d do anything for him – absolutely anything.
Jimin was bawling at this point, small wails of pain coming from his mouth at how fucked up this situation became. He shouldn’t love Jungkook this much, especially not after what the younger did to him – it should be unforgivable, but here he was – had forgave him a long time ago if he was telling himself the truth.
His palms were glued to his cheeks as his fingers rested like a cover on his eyes, his heart hurt for Namjoon, for wasting three years of the elder’s life, for somehow tangling Namjoon in a web – he didn’t mean to. He never meant to.
“I-I’m so sorry, Namjoon. I’m suh-so fucking soh-sorry – oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Jimin blubbered, “you deserve so much better than what I’ve given you – so muh-much better than me. You deserve someone that will truly treasure how amazing you are and I’m-I’m so sorry that I couldn’t because of how fucking stuck my heart is, but Namjoon it’s in fucking barbed wire, and I’m just so sorry I did this to you. I’m so sorry,” Jimin explained, continuing to apologize and cry openly as Namjoon sat wordlessly, tears descending his cheeks and splashing against his collarbones, mixing with blood that had never been clean from the fight. He matched the rain, and he guesses he matched the sad connotation that came with rain too.
Saturday, February 26, 2033; 12:21 PM
“Seungmi-hyung! There’s sharks in this one!” Jungsuk exclaimed, slapping his brother on his side and gesturing toward a large tank with many fish, small and large ones included. Seungmi seemed pumped about this, and ran toward it, despite Jimin reprimanding them both to stop running. Jimin’s pretty sure that’s not even a shark, but he’d let them have their fun with pretending.
“That’s not even a shark,” Jungkook spoke quietly to Jimin as they both took a seat on a bench nearby where the boys were marveling a large, falsely identified creature. Jimin chuckled, sitting down beside the younger, space between them but a slither, Jimin has gotten more comfortable around Jungkook to the point where sitting closely wasn’t a problem, but he was going to attach himself to the younger (regardless of how much he wanted to).
The silence between them was a pleasant one, but their surroundings were filled with noise of other children squealing about marvelous aquatic creatures they were seeing, or parents explaining them. It was dimly lit, only recess lights ahead and water lights inside the tanks that gave a soft greenish-blue hue. It was kind of romantic, save for the kids surrounding them.
“Jimin-hyung!” Jimin heard Jungsuk call, and Jimin instantly raised his neutral expression into a smile, and hummed a response to show that he was listening, “there’s a big sea bass in here, too! Isn’t it cool?!” Jungsuk must have been a fan of the sea, because he’s been doing nothing but yelling out every animal there was in these tanks and telling Jimin all about them – Jungkook must hear about them a lot.
Jimin laughed sweetly, and nodded, “yeah, they are pretty cool, Jungsuk-ah,” and he was pleased by Jungsuk’s satisfied expression before the young boy turned back to the tank to converse with his older brother instead.
This was still weird for Jimin – being with Jungsuk and having the kid around him and calling his name and almost behaving as if he had some kind of adoration for Jimin considering he’d never been around him much beside the passed few months. Jimin still feels weird looking at the child sometimes – seeing traces of Jungkook and Jungsuk’s mother in him – seeing living proof of his ex-husband’s infidelity. Jimin shivered. He forgave Jungkook, a long time ago, but it’s hard to forget, especially when the living proof is right under his nose and screaming his name every five minutes.
“He really likes you,” Jungkook offered, leaning on his palm that (strategically) was behind Jimin, making the younger male’s proximity decrease.
“Does he?” Jimin asked, feigning ignorance, “huh – I couldn’t tell.”
They both chuckled, Jungkook nudging the elder softly with the edge of his shoulder, “I’m serious, hyung. It’s kind of great. He usually doesn’t take this well to people.”
Jimin watched on with the interaction between his own son, and Jungkook’s and it was sweet. Seungmi was an amazing big brother – correcting things that Jungsuk would get wrong, and or explaining things Jungsuk didn’t understand – even reading the signs for his younger brother. Jimin could tell Seungmi loved his little brother with all his heart and it warmed Jimin’s, making Jimin forget why he felt indifferent in the first place. Jungsuk was digging himself a soft spot on Jimin, and it’s about time Jimin stopped fighting it – after all, Jungsuk didn’t ask to be here, he was just the product of something he couldn’t help.
“I’m glad,” Jimin responded turning his head to look at Jungkook but the younger was already in his space, so close that the air between them was almost non-existent.
Jungkook grinned down at him, sweet and simple and Jimin loved moments like these the most. For the passed five or so months, Jimin could tell Jungkook was trying – trying hard to redeem himself and everything he had done. Even though there is no price in the world worth what Jungkook put Jimin through, Jimin is willing to let Jungkook spend the rest of his life trying – and Jungkook’s tactics are working, little by little. Between always calling or texting Jimin to see how he’s doing, or planning all these family outings to prove to Jimin how much more devoted and committed he’s willing to become, Jimin could tire of all the attention, but that’s definitely not the case.
Jungkook’s putting in so much effort – giving Jimin all of him, and Jimin’s touched.
Jimin leaned forward, all it took was a little, and pressed a pliant kiss against Jungkook’s thinner lips, to which the younger automatically reciprocated. Jimin broke it before it could become any deeper and looked into the dark eyes of the younger, and saw nothing but adoration. Jungkook adored him.
“I love you,” Jungkook spoke, sure and confidently as if he claiming the day sky blue.
“I know,” the elder, leaned his head against the space between Jungkook’s neck and shoulder, setting camp their as they watched both their offspring in domestic bliss.
Tuesday, August 30, 2033; 9:50 PM
“I got you a gift,” Jimin stated, putting his wine down on the restaurant’s expensive wooden table before he reached into his suit jacket’s pocket that hung on the chair. It was a small box that he fished out, Jungkook noticed. No longer than his finger, no thicker than his palm and Jungkook wondered briefly what it could possibly be. Jimin set it off to the far side of the table but perfectly in Jungkook’s reach, so naturally, the younger assumed he’d be allowed to open it, but upon touching it, there was a light smack to his hand to which he furrowed his brow and looked up at Jimin’s beautiful, chuckling face.
“Don’t open it now,” Jimin commanded softly, “we’ll see how the rest of the night goes first.”
All they did was laugh and talk as they used to before everything got complicated between them. They felt like they did when they were young, and roommates – sharing stories of things they missed while they were apart and reminiscing of things that they recalled while they were together.
Jungkook had just gotten the check after paying, Jimin downing the last of his wine when he remembered. Narrowing his eyes playfully at the younger as he picked up the small gift box, he held it out to him, watching a smug look rise on Jungkook’s face, high pitched pleased snickers leaving his lips as his chest filled with triumph.
“I guess the night went good, yeah?” Jungkook asked, taking the box into his hands.
Jimin mocked his amusing noises lightheartedly, pressing his forearms on top of the table in a fold as he watched and waited Jungkook’s reaction, “just open it, idiot.”
“Let’s see,” Jungkook smiled, finally lifting the lid of the box to be met with a shiny golden key. His heart dropped along with his jaw, and his stomach erupted in the most pleasant herd of butterflies all at once. He almost cried right then and there, he became teary eyed, and through his peripheral, he could see Jimin lighting up across from him with his lip tucked by his top row of teeth.
When he finally looked up at Jimin, the elder was smiling sweetly at him, taking his large hands into his smaller ones.
“I love you,” Jimin assured, “and I think you earned your keep back in my house –for now.”
Jungkook laughed softly, squeezing Jimin’s hands between his own.
“I love you so much, Jimin. I couldn’t even begin to describe how much. I’m so grateful for this, baby, thank you.”
Jimin was truly touched and his cheeks ached from his inability to stop laughing or smiling in mirth all night, “you’re welcome,” Jimin replied, rubbing his thumb soothingly across the bit between the thumb and index finger of Jungkook’s hand, “I just want you home.”
“I want to be home,” Jungkook denoted, “can I kiss you, beautiful?” Jungkook inquired, making Jimin smile (–again. His cheeks are exhausted) and he nodded, leaning forward to meet Jungkook in the middle, their lips meeting in a soft kiss. Jungkook could kiss Jimin’s sweet, plump lips for years, and he was seriously debating doing so because nothing felt like that – nothing was more rewarding and satisfying than acquiring Jimin’s love and trust once more, and Jungkook was a mere seconds away from deepening the kiss, but Jimin was chuckling and a small hand was pushing lightly against his chest, breaking the short trance he was in – he forgot they were in the middle of a restaurant. Damn it.
“Ugh,” Jungkook groaned, refilling his seat with his body, “let’s get out of here.”
Jungkook signed off on a tip for the waiter and before they knew it they were walking out the fancy eatery, hand in hand.
The way back home, that had been merely three or four blocks away, had been pleasant. The blissful silence had been interrupted when Jimin’s home came into view, “I have a good feeling about us, hyung.”
Jimin quirked a brow looking over at his lover, their hands still clasped with one another’s.
“That I can be all you need,” Jungkook continued, “this time it’s all of me.”
Jimin’s gaze stayed strong for a minute longer before his full lips broke out into a grin, lighting Jungkook’s heart on fire from how warm it became. Jimin tilted his chin upward, and Jungkook knew what to do. They shared a sweet kiss, nothing more, or nothing less of refreshing, and Jungkook wrapped an arm around Jimin’s neck instead as the elder burrowed himself into the younger’s side, intertwined as one, where they belong.