Chapter Text
When Jungkook finally opens his eyes he feels fucking frantic; his fingertips are tingling with an odd sensation he’s never felt, his lips are throbbing with a weight that is no longer there, his heart is about to burst out of his fucking chest and hit him in the face. He tries to regulate his breathing, in and out , slowly, he looks around the room. Part of him expects to see roses or morninglories or Jimin , but Jimin isn’t here.
It felt so real, holding Jimin, talking to him and kissing him. He had felt settled, worry erased from his bones there, with Jimin.
It all felt so real.
Part of Jungkook thinks that maybe it was, somehow.
There’s a linger of Jimin in the air, in his breath and on his skin, it makes Jungkook ache for more. The feeling thwarts him, twists his stomach uncomfortably; Jungkook wishes he could go back, just one day, that’s all he’d need to show Jimin. Tell Jimin. Tell him how he feels.
He wants Jimin to know how beautiful he looks, eyes rimmed with liner or without, he wants Jimin to know how breathtaking he is with designer bags beneath his lids or his hair soft and free of product, the way Jungkook likes the most but sees the least.
Jungkook wishes he could just go back, he’d go back and hold Jimin, show him. Maybe, maybe if he could things would be different.
Jungkook rolls onto his stomach, shoving his face into Jimin’s pillow; it muffles the defeated howl that rivals a dying cat, not very well, but enough so that he’s pretty sure nobody else hears him. It’s about the time that he’s throwing a tantrum, whipping pillows and petutanly lobbing one of his slippers across the room that he hears something, it rumbles around in Jimin’s closet.
Panic rises in his gut, starts in his toes and works its way up like a fucking stampede.
Jungkook chokes on his tongue when there’s another thump from the closet, a cold sweat beads on the back of his neck and tingles down his spine. He’s kind of annoyed at the way his heart skyrockets again, he just fucking regulated it back down to a non-threatening pace, but something moves behind the venetian doors again and Jungkook presses himself back against the wall on the bed. He listens carefully.
Nothing.
Slowly, quietly(which is stupid because if there’s something or someone in the closet they clearly already know that he’s there what the fuck is he doing), he tugs off his remaining slipper, mans it at the ready as he pads prudently towards the source of the noise, tiptoeing.
He silently curses himself because now he has to try to kill someone with a fucking slipper. What if it’s the person who took Jimin and all he has to defend his honor with is a fucking pink bunny slipper?
There is potentially an axe murderer/kidnapper in the closet that Jungkook is slowly dragging himself towards, a potential axe murderer/kidnapper that most definitely will be able to fend off a fucking slipper; Jungkook realizes the flaws in his plan, realizes that he’ll probably be dead before he can even scream for help, but it’s fine.
Everything is fine. Jimin is gone and Jungkook is probably going to die. But it’s fine.
He’s breathing pretty heavy, kind of feels like he simultaneously ran a mile and aged forty-six years in the time it takes him to stand directly in front of the closet, one hand extending slowly above his head.
Maybe it’s just a hamster. Yeah, Jungkook wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if Taehyung managed to keep one hidden for all this time, maybe it escaped and meandered it’s way into Jimin’s room.
But. But hamsters don’t sneeze . Not like that.
Monsters and axe murderers and sex traffickers, on the other hand, probably do sneeze.
Before Jungkook can talk himself out of it, he yanks the door open, holding his slipper above his head and screeching in a way that he hopes is threatening.
“Wait what -- ”
The slipper drops to the floor with a dull thud, Jungkook feels himself making the Poop face and maybe he’s going to throw up. All over Jimin’s stupid closet and--
“ Jimin?”
Surrounded by clothing yanked from the hangers, with a pair of joggers draped unceremoniously on top of his head, is Jimin. He’s missing a sock, his hair is an outrageously beautiful disaster and the striped shirt he wore last night hangs dangerously off of his shoulder.
He’s beautiful and soft and here .
“Jimin? Park Jimin! What the fuck, oh my god where did you-- have you been-- fuck have you been here the whole time? You absolute fucki-- whomst? Jimin .” Jungkook drops to his knees, he wants to touch him, wants to stroke his cheek, wipe away the sweat from his forehead and brush his hair back, dab away the disgustingly adorable bit of drool dried at the corner of his lips, but he stops himself. He watches with wide eyes and cotton mouth swarming his tongue as Jimin stirs and rubs his eyes, groaning softly.
“Hey, handsome.” Jimin half opens one eye groggily, apathetic smile on his lips. He looks at the slipper, abandoned and pathetic beside Jungkook. “Were you going to hit me with a slipper? ”
A high-pitched, frantic giggle escapes Jungkook’s lips before he can stop it, it comes out sharp and insane and Jungkook covers his mouth, takes a deep breath. “Jesus, maybe . Fuck, I thought you were a kidnapper! I thought you were kidnapped! Oh my god we thought you were--”
“Water.” Jimin grumbles, Jungkook blinks at him, takes a moment to process before he darts to the bedside table and returns with the half-full glass that he drank from earlier, it shakes in his fingers, he hands it off to Jimin. He takes a few solid gulps, finishing the glass and giving it back to Jungkook. He doesn’t know what to do with it, throws it uselessly over his shoulder. Jungkook shakes his head in disbelief, Jimin just grins at him. “You’re the best.” Jimin says.
He groans, uncurling his legs and popping his back with one swift motion, he stands up and ruffles his dark hair with a yawn. He looks mildly bored but equally as amused, Jungkook is just at a loss for words. Even after being cramped in a closet for god knows how long he is so, so effortlessly beautiful.
“Although I appreciate the concern, I am very much not a kidnapper or kidnapped thank you very much, but not thank you very much for letting me drink enough to end up back in the closet-- took me years to get out in the first place . God my head feels like puddi-” Jimin pauses, eyes narrowing. He reaches out towards Jungkook with one small hand and runs his fingers through the fuschia hair that fell in his eyes, slowly, and he cocks his head to the side. He rubs the few strands between his thumb and pointer finger, staring up at them incredulously.
Jungkook sucks in a breath, trying to grasp onto the fact that Jimin just said that he’s gay -- he’s never come out before now, he’s never… he never told anyone that. He doesn’t even think Taehyung knows that, which is really saying something, considering the two of them practically speak telepathically or through weird looks. Jungkook doesn’t know what to do with this information, he doesn’t know how to respond to Jimin being so fucking passive about it, the way he just blatantly said it as though it were common knowledge--
“When did you dye your hair?” Jimin asks, innocently enough. He isn’t the slightest bit phased by what he said prior, hardly even notices Jungkook turning into stone.
Jimin is very close to Jungkook right now, their chests practically touching, Jimin doesn’t move his hand from Jungkook’s hair; his fingers trail down to the shorter, stiffer ones at the base of Jungkook’s neck, Jimin scratches softly before ghosting his fingertips down the cut of of his jaw, travelling to his lips. That’s when Jungkook practically jumps out of his skin, backs away a couple inches. A moment of hurt washes over Jimin’s face before he simply closes the distance again, this time making sure their chests are touching.
Jungkook thinks he might honestly throw up or do something even more crazy, like kiss him.
“I don’t think manager-nim will be very happy with that color.” Jimin considers, his breath washing over Jungkook’s neck. “Look’s nice, though. Kinda sexy . ” When Jimin presses his lips against Jungkook’s pulsepoint he really does jump out of his skin and he kind of feels like he’s going to start astroplaning at any given moment. Jimin is kissing him, thick lips against the column of his neck, arms wrapped loosely around his waist, fingers ghosting under the hem of his shirt.
“Jimin--” Jungkook tries, grabbing the other boy by the shoulders and holding him away from his person. Jimin looks nothing but confused, eyebrows crinkled cutely with his lips in a pout. He cocks his head to the side again when Jungkook takes a shaky breath. “Jimin what is going on with you? Are you okay? I-- We--” He licks his lips, trying to find the right thing to say.
So many different things are running through his head right now; Jimin , Jimin is safe, he’s here at home and seems to have been this whole time, it seems like he just got a little too drunk and somehow ended up in the closet, dead to the world with drink. But also Jimin , Jimin is looking at Jungkook with something in his eye that he’s never seen, not until the curious dreamstate he just experienced, and Jimin is trying to keep kissing him.
And Jimin asked him when he dyed his hair as though he weren’t sitting right there with him when it was being done.
Jungkook settles on, “You’re acting different.” Words slow and enunciated. Careful.
“ I’m acting different? You won’t even let me kiss you.” Jimin says, lips quirked up in a silly grin. “I know I probably have morning breath but it’s definitely been worse than this.”
“ Kiss me? Jimin what--” Jungkook can’t breathe. He shakes Jimin once, a little harder than intended. “What is going on with you? What happened last night?”
But Jimin isn’t even looking at him anymore, let alone listening, his eyes are wide on a blank space over Jungkook’s shoulder and then he starts turning in a slow circle. If his eyes could physically get any wider Jungkook’s sure they’d pop out of his head and roll across the floor like a pair of marbles; Jimin whips back around, eyes like saucers and on Jungkook’s hair, then his bed, the opposite side of the room where his desk is. He opens and closes the closet door, shrieks, runs to the window and looks out, gasps loudly and drops to his knees.
“What the fuck happened last night?” Jimin breathes, mirroring Jungkook’s question with a significantly higher dose of despair, his face reads all different levels of discombobulation.
“I--”
“Where is Tae’s bed?” Jimin asks, “Where are we? Why-- This is all of my stuff , Kookie, but everything is different. This isn’t our room, where’s Taehyung?”
Jungkook is puzzled, like, four thousand different degrees of puzzled because this is his room. It’s Jimin’s room in their dorm, Taehyung’s room is down the hall where it’s been for a year but Jimin looks so lost. He’s lifting up his blankets, opening and closing the drawers of his dresser.
“Jimin, what are you talking about?”
“This isn’t right.” Jimin says, shaking his head, he’s mostly talking to himself with his hands pressed on either side of his face, squishing his cheeks together. It’d be kind of adorable if Jungkook wasn’t so fucking monumentally confused right now.
“Yeah I-- I can see that?”
Suddenly, faster than Jungkook can register, Jimin is flying into his arms with a high-pitched wail. It’s filled with desperation and fear, he latches onto Jungkook’s shirt and buries his face into his chest. Hesitantly, as Jimin starts to shake, Jungkook holds onto him, looking over his head as if there was going to be some sort of answer hanging in the air.
“ I’m so confused. What’s happening to me? We were just drinking in the dorm and watching shitty dramas I don’t--”
“Jiminie,” Jungkook says softly, holding Jimin’s face delicately in his hands, as if he were made of glass or the fragile petals of a flower. “Jimin, we were out for Namjoon-hyung’s birthday last night. Don’t you remember?”
Jimin’s face goes blank, he shakes his head, crossing his arms. “His birthday was in September.”
“It is September,” Jungkook says calmly. He’s still holding Jimin by the cheeks, trying to look him in the eye but it’s clear that Jimin can’t stop looking around the room. “Today is September 13th.”
Then Jimin is laughing at him, sharp and loud, like a fairy is giggling right next to his ear, though it’s a little more manic sounding than it should be. “You’re joking,” His eyes are amused until they connect with Jungkook’s aghast stare. “Right?”
Jungkook shakes his head once, “Jimin, what do you think the date is?”
Jimin gives Jungkook a look like he is the crazy one. “December 18th.”
Jungkook opens his mouth to talk but nothing comes out. He can’t make words in his head translate to his lips, he doesn’t know what’s going on.
Did Jimin lose his memory?
That would make sense, wouldn’t it? That Jimin bumped his head and lost his memory?
He looks so small and lost but his fingers move to latch with Jungkook’s, he grips them tightly, pads his thumb back and forth like it’s a nervous tick. “There’s no snow.” Jimin says quietly, eyes darting to the window, “Kookie, there’s no snow .”
“Jimin--”
“It’s December…” He whispers distantly.
Jungkook wants to grab Jimin and take him to the others, wants to ask them what he needs to do but Jimin looks so small, so helpless. So Jungkook pulls him to the bed instead, ushering him down into the spot beside him. Immediately Jimin complies, clamoring into Jungkook’s lap, a thigh on either side of Jungkook’s hips, arms around his neck. He nuzzles his wet face in the juncture of his collarbones; Jimin smells like Jimin, sweet vanilla, a hint of roses. The older boy shakes slightly, quiet sobs moving down his spine that Jungkook dubiously tries to soothe, his trembles as it moves up and down Jimin’s back.
Jimin has always been touchy, always, it’s how he is. But he’s never… he doesn’t do this. He doesn’t try to kiss Jungkook, he doesn’t look at him that way, he doesn’t crawl into his lap and hold on to him for dear life. Jungkook’s brain is moving a thousand miles a minute, smashing up against the sides of his skull and he really, really needs some more aspirin.
“I don’t understand.” Jimin mumbles against his skin. “Things are different and I don’t know why-- my room isn’t my room, like it is my room ‘cause this is my stuff… but it’s not, where’s Tae’s stuff? Why is your hair different?” Jimin looks up, voice barely there, poking the silver hoops in Jungkook’s earlobe, “Where did your gauges go?”
Jungkook looks down at him, looks across the room, back at Jimin. “Jimin, I haven’t had those in like, years.” He can’t help but think that maybe Jimin needs to go somewhere, to the hospital or something; he seems to genuinely be lost, he doesn’t know what day it is, he doesn’t know where he is or apparently what Jungkook looks like right now. He’s trying not to be scared, but with the look Jimin has on his face fear is really, truly all that Jungkook can feel.
“What?”
“The plugs, they’ve been gone since like, after we finished shooting for RUN . We kinda changed concepts for Fire , remember?” Jungkook is articulating his words calmly, he doesn’t want to upset Jimin even more but fuck if he doesn’t want to scream right now.
“That’s not, I don’t-- Fire? ”
“Fire.” Jungkook repeats.
Jimin drops his hands from around Jungkook’s neck, fiddles with the hem of his shirt instead. Jimin is looking down, worry etched into his forehead. “What, I-- Jungkook our next album isn’t out yet?”
Jimin wrings Jungkook’s shirt more aggressively, “Jiminie…?” He grabs Jimin’s hands in his.
“Jungkook, we haven’t even released our next album. What are you talking about? Fire is just, it’s just an idea right now, we haven’t even come up with the whole concept yet-- Namjoon hasn’t even gotten further than the first draft of those lyrics.”
It feels like the world stops spinning and Jungkook lurches forward, holding Jimin steady. His mind reels. “Jimin… what was the last album we released?”
Jimin scoffs halfheartedly, “The Most Beautiful Moment in Life, Part 2.”
“ Jesus .”
“What?”
Jungkook can’t speak, he’s just shaking his head over and over again.
“Jungkook? Baby?”
Baby .
“I’m so confused,” Jimin breathes, “tell me what’s going on.”
“Jimin… That isn’t the last album we released, not by far.”
___
There was nothing Jungkook could have done to prevent Jimin from nearly throwing himself off of Jungkook’s lap and onto the floor, the older boy practically skidded out of the room, forcing the door open with so much momentum that it smashed into the wall with a sharp crack . He can hear voices far away, wondering what the noise was and Jungkook really, really hopes nobody comes looking for the source.
It took Jungkook a long moment before he was able to react, heart very well on its way to falling out his ass. He felt light-headed as he followed Jimin’s path, looking both ways down the hall before his eyes fell on Hoseok’s closed door. From behind it he hears soft cries, he presses his ear against the door, knocks once, twice.
“Jiminie?”
No answer.
“ Jimin! ” He tries again, he tries to maintain a whisper but urgency drips off of his tongue in thick layers.
There’s a soft scuffle on the other side, slowly, painfully slow, the door opens if only just a crack. Jimin peers out, eyes puffy and hair three times as disheveled. He sniffles.
“I couldn’t find the bathroom.” He whispers, lip trembling.
“Oh, Jimin…” Jungkook rests his palm against the door, slowly willing it to open. Jimin allows it and Jungkook slips inside, Jungkook closes the door gently behind them. “Jimin.”
“My hair.” He says, blinking a tear down his pink cheek. “My hair is different. I’m different.”
Jungkook nods, breath caught in his throat. He nods again but he has no idea, not a single inkling what’s going on here. His eyes worry towards the hallway; he doesn’t want the other members to find them, not yet, not until he can pull from Jimin some answers he really, really needs right now.
“Different how?” He asks, he wants to tilt Jimin’s face up to meet his gaze, he wants to touch , but he doesn’t. He leaves his fingers twitching at his sides.
Jimin yanks on a handful of his hair, taking a deep, shaky breath. “It’s not orange.”
Orange.
Jimin hasn’t had orange hair since RUN .
Jungkook shifts his weight uncomfortably, worrying his lip. “What year is it?”
“If I answer that you’re going to tell me something different, aren’t you?”
“I-- maybe? Jimin look, I know you’re confused and scared, fuck I’m scared too, but the more you tell me the easier it’ll be for us to figure this out, right?”
Jimin blows air out of his nose, bites his lip. “I don’t want to know, I don’t want to understand what’s going on.” He sinks to his knees, Jungkook follows. “I can’t-- I don’t-- Kookie, we were fine last night. We were all just playing and having fun, it was almost Christmas , we had a break and I was supposed to go home in three days.”
Jungkook doesn’t know what to say, but Jimin speaks for him.
“I have-- I had ugly orange hair and I hate it, you know how much I hate it, but now it’s gone and I don’t remember when I got rid of it… I’m just--”
“2018.” Jungkook blurts out, like word vomit.
Jimin freezes. “What?”
“It’s-- Jimin, it’s 2018.”
Jimin falls back on his bottom, head between his knees in a way that makes Jungkook want to cry. “What the fuck ,” he hisses, “that doesn’t make sense.”
Jungkook slowly brings a hand up to brush the hairs from Jimin’s face, can’t stop himself from cupping the other boys cheek. Jimin places his hand on top of Jungkook’s and closes his eyes, he takes a deep, trembling breath through his parted lips and looks up at Jungkook.
His eyes are glassy, filled to the brim with so many different emotions that Jungkook could probably write a book about it. “We’ll figure it out,” Jungkook says softly, “we’ll figure it out. It’ll all be okay, right?”
“Jungkook--”
“Listen to me, it’ll be okay , we’ll figure out what’s going on. We’ll take you to the doctor or--”
“Why? So they can tell me I’m crazy, too?”
Jungkook leans back, shocked. “No, no Jimin, you’re not crazy I’m just… I’m trying to think of why you can’t remember, like maybe you hit your head or something? I don’t know--”
“I--I don’t think I did, it doesn’t hurt anywhere I… Everything feels so clear , last night, the day before, the week before. Months . Every year. Everything is crystal clear, all of my memories are there. But...” He trails off sadly.
But what other reason could there be?
There is no logical explanation for what’s happening.
“Three whole years are gone, Jimin, that can’t be for no reason.”
Jimin looks at him with stone cold eyes, craze hidden beneath the dark brown. “I’m not supposed to be here , can’t you see that? This isn’t-- This isn’t right. It doesn’t feel right-- you don’t feel right.”
Jungkook flinches back, not quite understanding. “But you are here, you’re here with me remember? We’re both here, we’re all here, and we’re going to figure this out.” Jimin’s eyes soften, he holds Jungkook’s fingers tighter. “I’ll help you figure this out.”
“Jungkook you aren’t right, you and I aren’t.”
“I’m not understanding.”
“Jungkook I love yo--”
Neither of them noticed the pad of feet down the hall until the door is flying open in quite an explosive manner, seconds later a Hoseok shaped lump is tackling Jimin to the ground, wrapped around him like a koala with squeals of excitement ricocheting off of the walls. Jungkook wants to feel the excitement, he wants to relish in the feel of Jimin being here with them, safe, but he can’t stop thinking about what Jimin was saying.
I love you.
___
Yoongi appears in the room not more than a few moments after Hoseok; he doesn’t raise his voice, he doesn’t tackle Jimin, but he grabs him by the hand and tugs him free from Hoseok’s constricting embrace, pulls Jimin to his chest. He doesn’t show it, but Jungkook can hear the relief in his voice, he can see his hackles lower back down. The tension that has been weighing heavy on all of them is lifting, they can stand straight and finally breathe .
“Park Jimin where have you been .” Yoongi practically growls, hands holding Jimin’s face. He gives Jimin a soft shake, “Where have you been .”
Jimin’s eyes dart to Jungkook, then back to Yoongi. “I-- the closet?”
“The closet?” Yoongi laughs breathily, shaking his head in disbelief. “This whole time? Jesus, I knew you liked hide and seek but can you not--”
Jungkook registers Hoseok leaving the room, he hears loud voices and a stampede approaching. Seokjin, Namjoon and Taehyung fly into the room in a way that Jungkook has never seen them move; none of them are really the athletic type but fuck when they see Jimin it’s like suddenly they’re ready to compete in the olympics.
“It was a rough night.” Jimin answers. He pulls free from Yoongi and leaps towards Taehyung the moment he sees him, they boa around one another in a natural way that makes Jungkook’s throat tight. “ Tae .” He gasps, “Tae where’s your--”
“Jimin.” Jungkook startles them with the tone of his voice, frenetic and slightly louder than he expected. Jimin looks at him, catching the subtle shake of Jungkook’s head.
Not now.
They can’t do this here, not with all seven of them, not with the excitement of having Jimin back in the first place. Nobody will understand, not when Jimin doesn’t even understand himself; Jungkook knows that Jimin has a lot of questions, he knows how frightened and lost he is, Jungkook just doesn’t know how to fix this but Jimin will be nothing but overwhelmed if he asks all of them.
Seokjin and Namjoon take their turns hugging Jimin, prying him free from Taehyung’s arms as he holds on for dear life. “You brat,” Seokjin says, lightly shoving Jimin’s shoulder, “you absolute brat if I didn’t love your guts so much I’d kill you right now.”
“You really scared us,” Namjoon adds, holding onto Jimin’s hand. “Jesus, Jimin we thought you were gone .”
“Jiminie we thought you died ,” Taehyung pitifully slaps him on the chest three times, “you are the absolute worst best friend in the world how dare you--”
Seokjin interjects, shoving Taehyung away with a palm flat on his face and a pointed look. “We thought you were like human trafficked or something, you scared the shit out of us.”
Jimin looks nervous though he still tries to smile, albeit sheepishly, “Yeah, everyone keeps saying that…”
Something washes over all of them; it’s like the other five members can feel something radiating from Jungkook and Jimin, uncertainty leeks from the two of them, heavier than the weight of their fear in the last twelve hours. Somewhere off to the side there is a silent conversation going on between Namjoon and Yoongi, varying looks carrying words. Taehyung sits on the floor, watching with wide eyes and a faltering boxy grin, he looks like he wants to say something, but as he watches Jimin and Jungkook it’s like his words are lost.
“I think I need a shower.” Jimin finally says, and he leaves the room. Leaves his members in his wake, shock rolling over their faces.
“What? The fuck? Just happened?” Hoseok asks the air, he’s sitting on his bed with his face contorted into that of pure confusion. “Am I the only one feeling like something is going on?”
“Nope,” Seokjin replies tonelessly, eyes heavy and on the door that Jimin just escaped out of.
Jungkook’s mind is racing too fast to process, his blood flowing to fast through his veins. He barely registers Namjoon’s creamy voice, heavy and reassuring. “I’m sure he’s probably just disoriented, he did spend the better part of 24 hours slumped in a closet.”
As the tense whispering resumes it registers to Jungkook that Jimin doesn’t know where the bathroom is; he follows behind him silently, ignoring the confused looks he feels on his back. He finds Jimin outside his bedroom door, eyes on his feet and his arms crossed over his chest.
“Over there.” Jungkook says quietly, pointing around the corner.
Jimin looks up at him, looking like he has something else to say, parts his lips and then closes them promptly. He gives Jungkook a curt nod before pushing past him.
Once Jimin’s out of sight Jungkook leans against the wall thickly, sighing so deep that his lungs feel like they’re going to burst. “What the fuck .” He says to himself.
“I’ll say.”
Jungkook jumps at Seokjin’s sudden appearance. His eyes still look tired, wide shoulders slumped.
“Hyung,” Jungkook says, not knowing what really to say . “There’s something wrong with Jimin.”
Seokjin looks around before grabbing onto Jungkook’s arm, tugging him down the stairs quickly and out onto the porch. Jungkook sits in a heap on the wood floor, Seokjin drops down beside him with a sigh of so much force he’s surprised Seokjin doesn’t physically deflate like a balloon.
“Want to explain?”
How? How does he tell Seokjin that Jimin thinks he doesn’t belong here , that he thinks he belongs three years in the past. How does he tell Seokjin that Jimin loves him.
“I don’t know how.”
“Jungkook, you kind of have to try. Because whatever happened back there can’t exactly be considered normal, anyone with more than one eyeball could see that something’s going on here.” Seokjin replies, his voice dancing on the edge of the humor he carries so often, though beneath that it’s stern, serious. A role he doesn’t take on very often, usually opting to allow Namjoon and Yoongi take the place of super mature hyung. That isn’t to say Seokjin isn’t good at it, because when he wants to be, he’s the most comforting person to be surrounded by; he’s all gentle touches and a soft voice, his casual demeanor that makes your blood run hot and cold until it’s settled at just the right spot in the middle.
Jungkook sucks a sharp breath through his teeth, fingers tangling in his hair to tug on the strands. “He doesn’t. He doesn’t know what the date is.”
Seokjin cocks his head to the side, leaning against the railing. “Confused.” He states.
“Yeah, me too.” Jungkook snorts. “He thinks it’s-- he thinks it’s December.”
“Peculiar.”
“Of 2016.”
“ Very peculiar.”
“Really? That’s all you have to say?” Jungkook growls, lightly shoving Seokjin in the chest. The other simply catches his wrist, holding it in his lap.
“Mayhaps he bumped his head?”
“See, I thought that too. But he, he remembers everything. He remembers everything up until December of 2016, but nothing afterwards. Jesus, he told me he still has orange hair .”
Seokjin lets out a small noise, raising his eyebrows and inflating his broad chest with a breath before blowing it back out in a whistle. “I think, I think we should convince him to go to the doctor.”
Jungkook shakes his head furiously. “No, no he won’t. He’ll say no.”
“He doesn’t really have a choice, it’s the only way to figure out if something’s seriously wrong with him.” Seokjin answers, squeezing Jungkook’s wrist softly, long fingers pressing into his skin in a way that grounds him.
It’s annoying how right Seokjin is.
“Okay, okay. I’ll ask him.”
“No, we’re going to tell him.”
_____
“So, alien Jimin, what’s life like back wherever you’re from?”
Jimin shoves more banana kicks in his mouth than can fit. He knows where this is going to go. He swallows, “The dorm is bigger.”
“Oh, is it.” Taehyung says, disinterested.
Jimin hums, nodding slowly. He won’t look at Taehyung, the moment he shows any weakness it’ll already be too late. “We all have our own rooms.”
“ Really , that’s interesting.”
Jimin knows that Taehyung doesn’t think it’s the least bit interesting.
“Very interesting indeed.”
He feels eyes on the side of his face, he groans and looks at the other with exasperation all over his features. “Taehyung, what .”
Taehyung shrugs, “Nothing exciting in the other-world? No drama… couples… ?” He trails off.
Jimin melts to the floor, laying like a starfish on the carpet, Taehyung slithers up beside him, head on his chest. “I told you that we broke America, they literally have posters of us in tween magazines now. How is that not exciting?”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“Because you already know the answer.”
“Why do I have the feeling that future me knows more than me -me?”
“Future you is you-you.” Taehyung makes a noise in reply.
Taehyung is annoying, Jimin has fully decided. And he will never defend him against that ever, ever again. In any universe.
And future Taehyung honestly knows nothing more than Jimin knows himself ; there’s never been a question about Jimin’s feelings for Jungkook or vice versa, nobody has ever asked and he’s never brought it up. It’s never been as apparent as it is now, the feeling has never shoved itself in Jimin’s face the way that it has these past few days and he doesn’t know what to do. Regularly, he would go straight to Taehyung, he’d probably spill his guts and then they’d pine hopelessly over their mutual crushes on other members. But this isn’t regular.
“Taehyung…” He warns.
“ Jimin.. .” Taehyung mocks.
With a deep breath and a tickle of Taehyung’s hair in his nose Jimin closes his eyes, “Taehyung, I know.”
He hums.
“Like, I know .”
“Oh.” Taehyung sits up, stares at Jimin while he sits cross legged next to him. Jimin doesn’t move, fuck he can’t even open his stupid eyes. “You know , like, know know .”
“Yeah.”
“You’ve known since you got here, haven’t you?”
“Yup.”
“Well, okay. Shit.”
“Yeah.”
“It isn’t like this where you’re from,” Taehyung says softly, “you and Kookie. You’re not, y’know--”
“We aren’t.”
“It’s hard on him, but he’s really trying he-- he doesn’t want to scare you away.”
Jimin sucks in a sharp breath at the pang in his chest, Jungkook doesn’t… “He doesn’t scare me.” He says softly. Jimin still can’t look at Taehyung, he knows the look he’s giving him right now.
“I know. He loves you, Jiminie, and in another world you love him too.” Taehyung whispers, his voice sounds so forlorn. It registers to Jimin that perhaps he isn’t just hurting Jungkook, he’s hurting everyone. He’s hurting himself . He doesn’t know what to say to Taehyung, but that’s okay, because he keeps going anyway. “Nobody else wanted to tell you, they thought it’d scare you off or traumatize you or something, but I know you better than that, you’re-- you’re so much stronger than people give you credit for, y’know? It made me mad when they were talking about it, like… like you’re some fragile thing that’ll crack under something as silly as being in love it’s so stupid.”
Jimin’s throat is terribly dry.
“Jungkook is your friend before anything else, you love him in at least one way, I tried to tell them that-- that you’ll still love him even if it isn’t the way he loves you.”
“Nobody is going to try to make you love him, he isn’t going to try either, you just-- it’s okay that you don’t love him back…” Taehyung trails off, taking a deep breath like the words he just said lifted a weight off of his shoulders.
It takes him a minute to realize that Jimin is crying, fuck, Jimin didn’t even know he was crying until Taehyung is plastered to his chest again, wiping away his tears with the pads of his thumbs. “I’m sorry Jiminie, I’m sorry,” he’s saying, “I didn’t mean to upset you I’m sorry--”
“Tae,” Jimin hiccups, forces himself to sit up. “Back where I’m from, Jungkook doesn’t love me back.”
Taehyung freezes, thumbs stuck on Jimin’s cheeks, his brow crinkles. “What does that mean?”
Jimin pulls away, curling his knees to his chest. “He-- He doesn’t…” He starts quietly, taking in a shuddering breath that makes his chest ache, “We’re just friends. That’s all we’ve ever been. He doesn’t love me that way.”
“Wait wait wait, so you. You love him.” Taehyung sputters, rising onto his knees with comically wide eyes, entirely ignoring a solid majority of what Jimin just said. “That’s perfect .”
“Taehyung,” Jimin tries weakly, “what does that matter?”
Taehyung clutches his face, mashing his cheeks together, “What does it matter? Park Jimin you love him, and that him is right down the hall probably sobbing as he masturbates into a sock at the thought of you--”
“Tae hyung --” Jimin gasps, “stop that--”
“What in the everlasting fuck are you doing still sitting here with me? Why are you moping--”
“Because! Because, he loves me here . Not back home.”
Taehyung nods slowly, though his eyes are glazed over because he definitely does not give a fuck. “Right. But you are here. With him. Where he loves you.”
Jimin finally slaps the others hands off of his face with a weak glare, “Yeah, and if I go and, and tell him. How I feel. And I let myself enjoy it and get used to it-- what happens if I wake up tomorrow and, and I’m back where I’m supposed to be?”
With an oscar worthy grown, Taehyung rolls onto his back. “I’m guna have to ask you to stop talking about here and there , because then I’m going to start wondering about the space time continuum and the butterfly effect and shit-- Jimin,” He sits up again rather abruptly, “listen. If you spend every second here wondering when it’ll change, you’re going to be miserable. And for all you know this is where you’re meant to be.”
Maybe Taehyung is right, maybe he’ll never go back. Maybe, in some strange way, this is where he belongs. In a timeline where he and Jungkook get to just be .
“I should go talk to him, shouldn’t I?”
Taehyung shrugs, suddenly mildly pale. “Maybe you should. Maybe you shouldn’t.”
“Oh-kay then,” Jimin says, standing up and nudging Taehyung with his foot. He realizes that the other used his brain to full capacity and heads for the door, “Thanks, Tae.”
Taehyung grunts.
“Y’know, in the future. You’re still my best friend.”
--
Jimin moves slowly down the hallway, dragging out the process because he is so, so unsure of what he’s doing right now; part of him is screaming to sprint, find Jungkook as fast as he can because it’s real here. The rest of him is screaming to just turn around, crawl back into his bed and close his eyes and hope that he wakes up somewhere else.
But he finds himself outside Jungkook’s door. He presses his ear against it, trying to listen for something, but finds nothing but silence coming from the other side. A deep breath fills his lungs and he raises his hand hesitantly, rapping a couple times. There’s a couple seconds of anticipation before he hears Jungkook’s call, beckoning whomever it is to come in.
Jimin cracks it open, merely poking his head in. He sees Jungkook, clad in gray sweats and a black t-shirt, dark hair falling into his eyes. The younger looks tired, face bare and lips slightly pale. It makes his chest hurt, feeling like his heart is quite literally crumbling to pieces at the mere sight.
“Hey,” he says softly.
Jungkook looks up from his phone, his natural doe eyes somehow looking wider than usually, glassy and beautiful and Jimin just wants too-- “Hey, Min.” He replies, dropping his phone into his lap. Jungkook’s eyes graze over Jimin, or what of Jimin is visible from where he hides behind the door.
Suddenly Jimin feels a thousand times smaller under the others gaze, he averts his gaze to the ground, “Can I?”
The other doesn’t even hesitate before nodding quickly, “Yeah, yeah please I--” he pauses, sighing and running a hand over his face. “Yeah, come in.”
Jimin shuffles a little further, closing the door behind himself and leaning against it. A silence washes over them, a simple waiting game as they see who will crack first. It ends up being both of them, starting to speak over one another in a way that has them both chuckling nervously.
“Go ahead, you first.” Jungkook smiles, so softly. As though he’s trying to hug Jimin from just the slight lilt of his voice.
“Right,” he replies softly, scratching the back of his head. The nerve dance through his veins, making his fingers shake and his voice an unnatural tone. “I was talking to Taehyung.”
“Well that’s never good.”
“I-- yeah. I know.”
Jungkook hums.
“No, like. I know .”
Jungkook’s face turns to stone, “ Oh .”
“Yeah.”
“I, shit. I’m sorry Jimin, I never meant to make you uncomfortable. I know you don’t feel the same way and I promise I won’t even talk to you anymore I’ll leave you alone I--”
Jimin isn’t even sure when he crossed the room but there he was, standing right in front of Jungkook, practically slotted between his legs. “No, no stop. Jungkook, you love me, right?”
Several different emotions wash over Jungkooks face, but he lands on a simple, “Yes. I do.”
“Okay.” And before he could think of the millions of reasons not to, Jimin leans down, brushing his lips against the other so softly. A ghost of a taste of what they both really want. Almost immediately, Jungkook’s large hands come up to up his cheeks, holding him gently in place as he presses forward just a bit firmer. And god Jungkook tastes like pears, his skin feels the same way it felt in his dream; warm, strong and comforting. Like home . And he never wants to pull away but he has to.
Jimin moves away slowly, blinking down at Jungkook, finding him glancing up with stars in his eyes, a grin on his lips. “Jimin?” He asks, a thousand questions in one simple word.
“I love you. Here. There. I love you everywhere.”
“Oh, Jiminie…” Jungkook whispers, tucking a strand of hair away from his face. “I--”
“No, let me finish, please.” Jimin says quietly, eyes closing because fuck he might cry again.
“I love you, I always have. I’ve loved you so much for so long but you-- Kook, you never felt the same. Where, where I’m from. It’s you that doesn’t love me back. And all this time I didn’t want to believe this, I couldn’t let myself believe that this was real-- god because I’m still not sure that it is. I don’t know when I’m going to wake up--” He pauses, wiping angrily at a tear on his cheek though Jungkook was quick to beat him to it. “If I let myself love you here, what’ll happen when I end up back where this isn’t real? I-- I’ll have you, and I could just wake up one day and it’ll all be gone again.”
Jungkook looks at him, the stars in his eyes dancing dreamily, as though Jimin were the only thing he could see. “Park Jimin, I know myself. In any universe, in any weird timeline, I know who I am and I know who you are.”
Jimin lets out a dry sob, covering his mouth as Jungkook holds his fingers tightly. He chuckles softly, almost in disbelief. “And I know that no matter where we are, however far in the future, I will always, always love you. Even if you cross that divide, I’ll always be waiting for you on the other side.”
It takes a moment to realize that Jungkook is crying, too. But he’s holding Jimin so firmly, his voice unwavering.
“You’ll be okay here.”
Jimin looks up, heart fluttering; his body shakes but Jungkook keeps going.
“Us, together. Whatever is happening right now, it’s you and me.”
“But what if--”
“Whatever this is, whatever is happening… You’ll be okay here, with me. In this crazy little magic shop we’re stuck in.”
And Jungkook doesn’t know it yet, but Jimin does.
Jungkook has just given him everything he needs to be okay.
“So show me.” He whispers.
Jungkook nods, “I’ll show you.”