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The Bangtan Boys and their staff had already set camp in the Changdeok palace court before the sun even rose, sky a beautiful gradient of cornflower blue and indigo and only punctuated by a few stubborn stars. The whole site was closed for the day and the rush hour hadn’t started yet, leaving them in a morning lull only disrupted by the odd bird chant or chirp coming from the pine trees around them. The barely there breeze and mild late spring air that didn’t feel cold nor warm added to the feeling of everything having stopped in its course. Even they were talking only when necessary, trying to enjoy the atmosphere as much as they could while waiting for the crew to set up their equipment. They were all in casual clothes and bare faces, not needing to put up a front for the centuries old stone statues and feeling quite sure that no fansite owner or reporter would dare to break into a historical site for an unfocused snap or two. It almost felt like they were not on the job.
This could have been a pleasant way to spend a day off indeed, if only they didn’t have a drama reenactment to shoot. More precisely, Taehyung, Yoongi, Seokjin and Jimin had a drama to reenact and Namjoon, Hoseok and Jungkook had been kindly requested to leave it at short cameos and avoid any form of improvisation. The show that they were going to parody was a popular historical drama that they didn’t have enough time to watch on their own accord but had been given a quick rundown of when the idea had been brought to the table. Something about political intrigues, a servant girl that could stop time and the crown prince conveniently falling in love with her.
The sun slowly rose over the horizon, reflecting luminous pink on a few stray clouds hanging low in the sky, and the chirping picked up. The boys were a bit ahead of schedule so everyone was taking their time to get ready and eat breakfast. Hoseok and Namjoon were even resting eyes closed on the turf that surrounded the royal quarters of the palace. Hoseok’s white tee-shirt wouldn’t come out of it unscathed but he didn’t seem to care. In fact, he was even happily snoring away, mouth hanging slightly open.
Usually, they were always rushing to somewhere, filming something, shouting and joking around to keep themselves awake despite the tiredness. Today however, everything was blissfully slow and quiet and it seemed like they had all tacitly agreed to keep it that way.
Jimin would have loved to enjoy the calm atmosphere as well. After the week he had battled through, relaxation had become closer to a necessity than a luxury. He wanted to put his mind at rest and join Hoseok and Namjoon on the dewy grass. He wanted to swallow his breakfast without difficulty and smile at Yoongi’s bed head hair and scrunched up face. He wanted to take pictures of the palace in the dawn light with Jungkook. Maybe take a short stroll around the pound he could see a glimpse of through the trees. Just enjoy.
But he couldn’t.
Because today was the day he had to kiss Taehyung.
That’s right, kiss him. On the lips. No sneaky tricks, no well-placed thumbs, no camera angles, no nothing. A real kiss, caught on camera to later be broadcast on a giant screen during their upcoming concert if he was lucky or on national television if he wasn't. Not exactly the same kind of cringe-inducing but harmless stuff he had fell victim to during Weekly Idol or the group’s own punishment games. And far, very far from his own mock-attempts at kissing the members to make the fans happy.
It had to be an accidental kiss too. An accidental peck turned into a long intended one, the typical frozen-touch-of-the-lips stuff of those kid-friendly dramas that aired on public channels. But the technicalities had gotten lost on Jimin after he had read the word ‘kiss’ between his name and Taehyung’s on the script. Since then, it had been constant hesitation between complaining and looking like a wimp – or, worse, as if he thought he was above that kind of fanservice – and, well, sucking it up. Keeping quiet and pretending he was fine with it despite feeling like the day of his execution had been picked and announced to him in the form of a poorly scripted play.
Jimin had held on tight.
Until now.
Now that the dreaded moment was dangerously close and that the reality of the situation had completely sunk in, Jimin was even less sure that he could get through acting a stumble, landing lips first on Taehyung’s mouth and staying there for a few long seconds in front of Bangtan, their staff and rolling cameras. He was the worst actor of them all, who had had the genius idea of giving him a kiss scene? With Taehyung, on top of that. Only Jungkook or Namjoon would have been worse.
In front of him, Yoongi stood up and departed from the table that had been set next to the tall and colorful royal residence, leaving him alone with his worries. Jimin watched him wander off to the red-painted wooden arbor that flanked the old construction, his gaze following the older boy’s skinny silhouette until it disappeared because, as sad as it sounded, he needed any distraction he could get. And, no, he wasn’t overreacting. He had had a lump in his throat since last night and couldn’t stop biting the skin around his nails so he really needed to think about anything else or his fingertips would soon start to bleed. And, for the record, that wasn’t overreaction either. It was perfectly healthy to be nervous, given what was going to happen.
Jimin started to pick at the remainders of his breakfast while looking around. He spotted Seokjin basking in the first weak rays of sunlight, half-sitting half-leaning against a stone wall, an arm thrown around the lion statue lying on it. While appreciating the invisible modeling shoot Jin seemed to be having, Jimin tried to imagine what was about to come for the hundredth time. Much to his chagrin, it didn’t feel any less distressing than the first time he had gone over it in the hopes of minimizing the gravity of the ordeal. His eyes left the picture-perfect image of Jin and he risked a glance in Taehyung’s direction. His jaw tensed around the rice in his mouth and his throat tightened almost instantly.
He couldn’t do it. He really couldn’t.
Jimin stood up as well. The rough ground of the court crunched under his sneakers as he put some much needed distance between him and the filming set. He needed to breathe and he needed to think about something else or his mood was going to drop too low for him to be able to act later. However much of acting he could do to begin with, anyway.
Seokjin cracked an eye open when Jimin reached his spot under the twisty pine trees.
“Ji-min-ie,” he sing-sang, closing his eye again and turning his face back towards the peach colored sunlight.
“Jin-ie-hyung,” Jimin sang back but he didn’t manage to put much heart into it.
He leaned against the wall on the other side of the statue, exposing himself to the light as well. The stone felt cold through his thin black jeans but that was the least of his concerns at the moment.
Seokjin had a sigh of contentment, “I wish we had more schedules like this.”
Jimin should have felt the same but he just couldn’t put things into enough perspective at the moment – so much for not being his young, all-over-the-place self anymore. Could he fake a sudden illness? He had never done it before but this wasn’t an everyday situation. He wasn’t just being capricious or trying to skip practice. He badly needed to get out of this.
“I don't,” he belatedly mumbled, voice barely covering the birds singing above them.
“Mmh?”
“Hyung,” Jimin said with difficulty. He could have cried. The world was definitely twisted when you somehow felt ashamed of admitting that you didn’t want to kiss your best friend and bandmate. “I don't want to kiss Taehyung.”
Seokjin opened both eyes and looked past the top of the lion’s head with a puzzled expression.
“Of course you don't,” he said flatly.
“I really… really don't want to do it.”
Jimin's throat constricted again. It was the first time his body reacted so vehemently to stress since their debut stage, as far as he could remember. Back then, the apprehension had at least been mixed with excitement.
”Clearly I understand where you come from,” Seokjin grimaced, thick eyebrows furrowing as he remembered his very own cringeworthy kiss to Namjoon’s cheek on live streaming a few months prior. “I mean, it is a pain. But you don't need to worry that much about it. What are you scared of, exactly? Being a bad kisser?”
Jimin let Seokjin chuckle at his own lame joke and stared at the royal quarters in front of them, which were being given one last check before they proceeded to the filming. He stared hard and thought hard, painfully gnawing away at the inside of his cheeks. He caught his reflection on their van’s windshield. He looked tired, even more so because he wasn't wearing any makeup yet. His brown and lavender gradient hair – another brilliant idea of BigHit’s marketing team – was a mess after having scratched and rubbed his head during the whole trip to the palace.
Pressing his full lips into a line, he leaned back further and looked up at the slowly brightening sky through freshly grown foliage.
“I guess I don't want it to make it weird between us,” he admitted reluctantly.
“Hah!” Seokjin scoffed. “Fat chance. You’re almost attached by the hip.”
“That's the point, hyung.” Jimin said gloomily. “I don’t want that to change.”
“Aww, come on! Look, he had to do it with Hoseok and do you see any difference?”
Jimin didn’t answer and instead kept looking at the decor without seeing it. His face was starting to feel warm under the sunlight, but that might have been due to his nerves as well. In his opinion, it was perfectly natural to worry about having to kiss one’s best friend. Seokjin was the one being out of his mind for taking it so lightly.
“If you don't want to do it that bad, I will talk to the manager for you,” Seokjin then said in a comforting voice. “But really… Taehyung doesn't seem to have any problem with it so why should you?”
“Yeah but... Taehyung’s weird,” Jimin countered with a small smile.
They both turned their attention to the object of their conversation, who was standing a good ten meters away and looking deeply into the handheld camera’s lense while alternating between closing his left eye and his right one.
"That he is,” Seokjin conceded.
Yoongi came out of the makeshift changing room installed under the arbor fully dressed in a royal hanbok – the thick, well-made kind now that they had the budget to rent it – and passed them without hurry, grunting a “you’re next, hyung” at Seokjin. He obviously had fallen asleep while being made up and wasn’t too happy about having been shooed out once the work was done.
“Time to get even more handsome!” Seokjin chirped, pushing himself off the wall. “You’ll be okay,” he mouthed at Jimin.
Jimin watched him leave his side with a twist in his gut. Once Seokjin would be done slipping into his costume, only three of them would be left before they would start, counting himself in. Thankfully, that also included Taehyung and Hoseok, who became quite the eyesore once crossdressed.
Jimin pushed himself away from the wall as well and followed Yoongi in the hopes of keeping himself distracted. Unfortunately, he ended up stalking to the rest of the group who was now discussing with the cameraman and producer.
“Ah yes, come over here,” the producer said when he saw Jimin dragging his feet in their direction, a second before the boy changed his course to go and hide somewhere. “We need to decide on how to frame the shot with you and your friend there.”
Jimin didn’t even need to ask which scene the man was referring to, the others’ faces said it all. But this was rehearsal so they wouldn't kiss for real just yet, right? He still had time to back out if the tightness in his throat turned into full-blown nausea, right?
“Both of you, go stand on the patio, one near each pillar. You left, you right. When the camera’s ready, act your scene. You don't need to say your lines for now.”
“Understood,” Jimin said with a strained smile.
“Understood!” Taehyung loudly echoed in a cheerful voice, handing the camera over to its rightful owner.
He wasn't even faking it, Jimin realised in amazement as they walked to the wooden pillars that supported the house's impressively large patio. He really was fine and dandy with it all – the insouciant bastard – while Jimin could barely bring himself to look him in the eye. If Taehyung could be so nonchalant about it, why wasn’t he able to simply do the same?
They both got into the positions the director pointed them to and Jimin set himself in motion, running towards Taehyung after supposedly having had a fight with his father the king. The cameraman stopped him halfway, asked that he started over but slower and Jimin complied without letting a hint of his inner agitation show.
He was interrupted in the middle of his run again by a loud and sharp crash. Stunted, he tripped and deflected away from the noise, protecting his face by instinct. When nothing came, he darted his eyes around and quickly spotted a handful of thick roof slates shattered on the stairs leading up to him.
The whole set was shocked into silence, until Taehyung’s loud snort broke it. He was soon shaking with a silent laughter that made his eyebrows twist and his eyes scrunch up. Jimin looked at him in disbelief, watching his smile stretch around his clenched teeth and his upper body fold under the weight of what was apparently a highly comical situation. The hilarity spread to a few other people even though it really wasn’t that funny. Maybe they had been apprehending the scene as well, after all, and this was their nerves acting up. Jimin’s own tired ones only allowed him a shaky chuckle.
“What kind of bad sign is this?” Jin whined from behind the cameraman.
Still quietly laughing his butt off, Taehyung sneaked a hand behind Jimin’s head and made it rest on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. It only made Jimin stiffer than he already was before, so he casually but promptly ducked out of the arm around his neck.
After the initial stupor dissipated, several members of the crew came over to evaluate the severity of the damage. Their manager was already calling what was probably the official in charge of the palace’s rental and Yoongi and Hoseok were joking about broadening the coverage of their accident insurance. From behind Jimin, Taehyung took advantage of the commotion to slip his arm back around his neck, making him slightly jump and whip his head in questionnement. Before he could escape again, Taehyung dragged him around the red pillar and inside the darkness of the throne hall.
Jimin couldn’t even ask what Taehyung was doing or take in the beautifully painted and sculpted ceiling beams above them before the smiling boy tilted his head forward and unceremoniously pecked him on the lips with a very audible smooching sound.
“What the–?” Jimin hiccuped, immediately untangling himself and wiping his mouth with his sleeve covered hand.
He briefly checked behind him to make sure that nobody had seen them through the open door, eyes darting in all directions, then turned back around, wiped his mouth once more and repeated in a harsher tone, “What the hell?”
He was feeling betrayed. And angry. And astonished. The chill that he had felt when entering the cooler atmosphere of the hall grew in intensity and raised goosebumps on his skin. Now he really was starting to feel sick.
“You looked like you were about to freak out so I showed you that there’s nothing to freak out about,” Taehyung said as if it was evident, bright smile plastered on his tan face and big eyes glistening in the dimly lit room.
He seemed so proud of the plan he had concocted to help his friend out that Jimin would have felt bad for the words that left his mouth next if he wasn’t so offended.
“What kind of stupid idea is that? That’s weird as hell, don’t do that! Don't… why would you do that? You didn't even warn me!”
“It’s not weird,” Taehyung countered, still smiling but rolling his eyes as if Jimin was the one being ridiculous. “And if I had told you, you would have freaked out for real.”
“Of... of course I would have!” Jimin cried in disbelief, “Which is why you don't do that!”
Taehyung all but pouted as he diverted his gaze to the closest window and the green scenery that peeked through it.
“It's not that weird, don't take it so seriously.”
“Don’t take it- don’t take it so seriously?” Jimin echoed, patience running low. “Well excuse me if I’m not–”
In a swift movement, Taehyung took a step forward, grabbed Jimin by the upper arms and pecked his lips again, effectively cutting him in the middle of his rant. He retreated as promptly, dopey smile wide again and giggling throatily.
“Are you being serious right now?” Jimin furiously whispered, forgetting to wipe his lips clean in his outrage.
Taehyung’s smile faltered. He closed in on him again, arms spread and ready to capture him, and Jimin stumbled back too late. He remained trapped in Taehyung’s hug despite twisting his body to shake him off or at least free his arms.
“Don't get mad, Chimchim.” Taehyung pleaded from the crook of his neck, his breath making the sheen of sweat on Jimin’s skin feel cooler and warmer at the same time. “It's nothing, really. Look.”
Sensing another incoming attack, Jimin contorted himself again to put as much distance as possible between his tightly sealed shut lips and Taehyung’s pursed ones. They did some awkward wavering around, during which Jimin didn’t dare to open his mouth to protest for fear of what could happen if he did and Taehyung managed to reach it at the same moment. At some point they almost lost their balance and had to straighten up to get their footing back. Still imprisoning Jimin’s arms against his body with his own, Taehyung used the opportunity to aim and kiss the corner of his mouth in a flash.
“See? Who cares!” he said, triumphant.
Jimin froze, face starting to heat up in embarrassment and anger. He threw a dirty look at Taehyung, who was looking down at him from uncomfortably close, almost going cross-eyed.
“ I care!”
Taehyung ignored Jimin’s indignation, closed his eyes again and lowered his head only slightly, the kiss extremely easy to steal in their position. To Jimin’s appalment, he didn’t retreat immediately and instead squeezed their bodies tighter against each other and pressed his lips more insistently on Jimin’s plump ones, as if insisting that it was all fine. Jimin’s heart clenched at the sensation and he almost whimpered at the odd feeling it gave him. He strained his neck back and away but Taehyung followed, keeping their lips connected with such insistence that the tip of his nose came digging into Jimin's cheek.
This kiss was more than just a quick, playful peck; it had intent and something that Jimin wasn’t in a state to put words on right now. This kiss was long enough for Jimin to notice the soft texture of Taehyung’s lips against his own. It was long enough to faintly feel air leaving his tall nose and brush warmly against his face. It was long enough to smell the fragrance of his lotion mixed with his body scent, to notice the warmth of his chest seeping through their long sleeved t-shirts and to feel his hair brush against his forehead. And it made it all the more weird.
Apparently confident that he had successfully made his point, Taehyung carefully broke the kiss with the faintest sucking sound and concluded in all seriousness:
“Nobody cares.”
“You–”
Jimin’s already high-toned voice cracked in the most embarrassing way so he interrupted himself to swallow once. The blank yet intense look on Taehyung’s handsome face was distracting him. His dark brown eyes were fixing him from under his too long caramel colored bangs with a level of concentration he had rarely witnessed since they got to know each other. When Taehyung grew too impatient, he slowly pecked Jimin on the lips again, the softest attempt so far, making the smaller boy close his eyes and mentally curse his misplaced reflexes as he did.
“Taehyung... what the fuck is going on,” Jimin murmured feebly, losing touch with reality for good. “This is so weird, it’s so weird…”
“It's totally not.”
Without any further argumentation, Taehyung went for yet another kiss. Jimin hardly tried to dodge it, growing too tired and dazed to start squirming around again. He was expecting to be freed a second later but instead Taehyung moved his lips against his, effectively making the skin of his nape prickle and his heart clench repeatedly, the heat in his chest spreading out further through his body with every squeeze. Their lips glided together softly, nips barely strong enough to be felt, and before Jimin could realize it Taehyung was slipping his tongue past his own lips and shyly licking at Jimin's barely open mouth. The slick and sensual sensation made him tense up and, behind his fluttering lids, his eyes almost rolled back in overwhelm. The feeling of Taehyung’s tongue carefully slipping against his own and the confusion mixed to the adrenaline rush he was experiencing were close to making him light-headed. He was rendered unable to do anything besides letting himself get swept up and feverishly try to keep up with Taehyung’s slow but purposeful kisses.
In an unexpected moment of clarity, he recognized the faint taste of banana milk on Taehyung’s tongue and he wondered how he could still possess enough presence of mind to notice such an insignificant fact but not to push his friend away and stop the insanity that was going on. They were making out, for goodness’ sake. It was hot and heavy and incredibly intimate and definitely not supposed to happen. It should have made Jimin hurl himself out of the window in horror but instead he was letting himself go limp and allowing Taehyung to do as he pleased with him, angling his body however he felt like and tasting his mouth to his heart’s content. Something had definitely gone wrong somewhere along the way, but Jimin was in no condition to pinpoint the exact moment it had happened. That didn’t change the fact that he needed to say something, do something, anything. This couldn’t go on.
Just as Jimin was starting to get a grip, Taehyung hugged him with a tad more strength and heaved in a long breath through his nose, distracting him again. His lips slowed down, kisses turning sparser and the pause between each one growing longer. Finally, he left Jimin now pinkish lips with one last delicate peck.
They gauged each other for a short second.
“Okay, now it’s a bit weird,” Taehyung admitted with a pensive expression on his slightly shiny face.
Jimin’s mouth fell open in astoundment.
“T-that's what I’ve been saying this whole time!”
He made another half-hearted attempt to shimmy his way out of Taehyung's embrace, only to feel the lean arms tense up and hold him tighter in response. He raised his eyes, which were feeling embarrassingly heavy after having been closed for so long, and met Taehyung’s equally lazy ones.
“But,” Taehyung quickly wet his lips with his tongue and Jimin’s eyes grew wide again at the gesture . “Do you see anybody caring?”
“I– Any– ...What?” Jimin stammered back.
“Exactly.”
Taehyung went for his lips again and stayed there, picking up where he left off, keeping the slow but relentless pace he had adopted before. He pecked, nipped and licked Jimin’s lips with suspicious expertise and, before Jimin knew it, it was as if his whole body had grown thick and was slowly pulsating with rushing blood. He didn’t want to open his eyes anymore – didn't really dare to – and felt like he couldn’t even if he tried. The chills and cold sweat he had felt run down his skin earlier were now pleasant warmth and small shudders whenever Taehyung grazed the back of his neck with his long fingers or breathed out against his wet lips.
Jimin had to put an end to this. He really had to, and not only because inappropriate sounds were threatening to rise from his lumpy throat. Still, he was hesitating to do so because, after worrying about his friend’s reaction to one acted kiss, he was now scared of losing him if he started denying him of the very real, very numerous kisses they were exchanging.
Oblivious to it all, Taehyung kept kissing him with heartbreaking caution and devotion. When he grew bolder and softly bit Jimin’s lower lip, Jimin couldn’t stop an airy moan from escaping his throat. It was quickly followed by another whiny one when he realised what he had just done and a wave of shame hit him, cheeks burning so hot they felt cold.
The noises seemed to spurr Taehyung on. He slowly abandoned his relative composure and started to rub and grab Jimin’s back and neck with gentle force, as if hoping to squeeze another moan out of his pliant body, kissing him with a renewed fervor. He kissed him and kissed him and hugged him and sighed and, in the middle of it all, between two nips of the lips, he let a trembling, almost desperate call for Jimin’s name pour out of his mouth.
“Jiminie… Jiminie, Jim-”
Taehyung was almost shaking, holding him like he was trying his best not to crush him and it was making Jimin feel unexpected remorse along with all the other emotions whirling inside him. When another tense whisper of his name was released against his lips, Jimin tried to reply but his constricted throat and fuzzy brain didn’t let him. He only managed a ragged, interrogative breath that died on both their lips.
“Jiminie, you're so- you’re the best, I like you so much" Taehyung finally let slip among another succession of kisses and sighs, voice strained but full of adoration.
Jimin caught the words despite his lethargic state and swore he turned dizzy for good, having to hold onto Taehyung in an attempt to ground himself. He should have been running away screaming but instead he was just letting Taehyung, who seemed happy about being hugged back, kiss him even more fervently – if that was possible.
But that was the problem. It was Taehyung – silly, loud and overly-sociable Taehyung with whom he was friend, roommate and colleague of sorts – who was doing all of those things to him. It was really not supposed to happen.
And yet, it was.
Nothing was making sense anymore to Jimin. He was pretty sure that he had entered another dimension and he needed to get out of there five minutes ago but Taehyung was being so passionate and, if Jimin was completely honest, the lips and hands caressing him were so pleasurable that he couldn’t bring himself to try and escape or turn his head away anymore. He had even stopped to think about that actually, around the time when Taehyung had briefly sucked on the tip of his tongue with a short hum.
“What are you two doing in there?”
Namjoon’s voice suddenly reverberated in the empty hall and Jimin’s spinned his body around and away from Taehyung’s so fast that a joint in his neck cracked.
“Admiring the architecture,” Taehyung dumbly answered in a thicker than usual voice.
From the corner of his eye, Jimin noticed in horror that Taehyung was faintly panting and that his eyes were glazed over under his long lashes. He probably wasn’t looking any better though, so he promptly stopped staring and straightened himself up with a gulp.
“Yeah, well, everybody’s waiting so let’s leave the tour for later.”
Taehyung gently pushed a very disoriented Jimin to the door, throwing him a furtive, somewhat shy but victorious smile before they exited. The brightness burned their eyes for a second and Jimin was brutally brought back to reality, heartbeat picking up again, only this time in a very unpleasant way. He couldn’t believe what had just happened only a wooden wall away from the small crowd busying themselves in front of them. He didn't notice that the broken tiles had been cleaned up, too focused on Taehyung brushing past him to take his spot in front of the pillar and marvelling at his apparent calm.
“Alright, one more time,” the director said loudly and silence fell on the set again. “No lines, no kiss, just position marking.”
Despite his clouded mind, Jimin’s ears rang at ‘no kiss’. Thank god, he still had a bit of time before–
Well, did it really matter anymore?
“Jimin, you should start running now,” the director said with patience.
“Oh, uh, yeah, sorry.”
As if in a dream, Jimin slowly jogged towards Taehyung, mock-tripped and landed in his comically outstretched arms. He hid his face in his friend’s lotion-scented neck, preferring to look away from him and the crew as much as possible. The director threw a glance at the cameraman, who in turn raised a thumb.
“Good, go get ready now. And don’t hug when we film later, mmh?”
“We’ll try!” Taehyung shouted from above Jimin's head.
Jimin could tell that his face was reddening again so he hurried to the makeup tent without looking back once. Upon seeing him enter, the two stylists abandoned their phone and helped him into the bulky hanbok made of blue silk that sported his nametag without a word. Jimin couldn’t really blame them, it was still early after all, and he actually more than welcomed the respite after having had his world turned upside down.
Once dressed, he sat down in one of the folding chairs and let skinny fingers touch his face and hair until it was deemed camera ready. It usually was an enjoyable moment but, still unable to believe what Taehyung had said and done to him a few minutes ago, he couldn’t have been further away from enjoying anything. He didn't even know where to start his mental listing of all the things that had gone wrong, were going very wrong still and could go much wronger in the near future. His heart was beating too fast and strong to form elaborate thoughts. Were his hands shaking? He couldn't even tell if his hands were shaking.
One of the stylist asked Jimin to tilt his head forward and effectively broke him out of his internal freakout. She placed a wig arranged in a bun on his head and secured it into place with bobby pins and a sheer black headband covering a large portion of his forehead. The metamorphose was so interesting to look at that Jimin almost forgot everything else for an instant. He went outside and thought about shooting a few selfies with his phone, using the royal gardens as background, but couldn’t bring himself to even go under his robes and get his phone out of his back pocket. He stayed immobile on the path, not really knowing what to do next.
Taehyung approaching the tent decided for him.
“Woah, you look like the real deal,” he said as he was walking closer.
Jimin only awkwardly smiled in response because he honest-to-god didn’t know what else to do. At this point, he didn’t know anything anymore, really. Taehyung was acting like nothing had happened and it was equally as confusing as maddening. Jimin had half a mind to just stop him right there in the middle of the pathway and demand an explanation but he was afraid of what he might hear so he just set himself in motion and quickly passed by Taehyung, long robes flowing behind him.
Finally, everybody was ready and the real filming started. It turned out to be just terrible enough for it to be funny but not to the point that it was painful to watch.
Jimin carefully observed Taehyung’s unsurprisingly convincing acting from afar. His transformation into a girl wasn’t as terrible as he had expected – it helped that the makeup artist had skipped on the heavy stuff, unlike whoever had painted his face when he once had become the now famous ladybug fairy. Actually, he was barely wearing any makeup and half of them were sporting long-haired black wigs so there wasn’t much of a difference apart from the female hanbok, mascara and lip tint. Taehyung was playing the part of the pure and strong heroine well, except for a few ugly facial expressions that no female actress with the slightest bit of self-respect would ever dare to make on screen.
The whole time he recorded his own scenes, Jimin wanted to scream at himself and everybody else around. He just knew that his acting was more awkward than Namjoon’s and Yoongi’s reunited right now – and that was saying something – but everybody seemed too polite to point it out. The few replays that the cameraman showed to him didn’t prove him wrong.
When Jimin and Taehyung’s shared scenes came, Jimin had already started sweating to the point that he was getting worried about it showing on camera and had to discreetly wipe his clammy hands on his hanbok more and more frequently. They were acting as they did during the rehearsal so far, only with lines on top. They had to do a few more takes than the others because Jimin’s lisp and stuttering kept making his lines inintelligible but everything else was going relatively smoothly.
“Let’s try to take the next one in one shot, mmh?” the director said and Jimin knew that this was it.
This was it, alright. This was the scene he had been having daytime nightmares about over the past week. And there was no turning back now. Jimin would have made one last silent prayer, asking for nothing to change once it was over, but he had the feeling that something already had shifted between Taehyung and him. And that didn’t really make anything better.
Jimin acted the run and stumble yet again – which looked very realistic thanks to his dancing skills –, crashed against Taehyung’s chest, pushed him against the red pillar and connected their lips for a few seconds, nor roughly nor gently.
It felt… it felt like it had felt about two hours ago. Taehyung still smelled like himself, his lips were still warm and his now black and synthetic bangs were tickling his face all the same. Jimin focused, tried not think about the people watching them and did his best not to twitch or shake, knowing full well how unforgiving close up shots were. As per script, they slowly closed their eyes after a moment of pretend shock and waited for the ‘cut’ to come.
It finally did, after what felt like longer than necessary, and they separated without their gaze crossing. The onlookers were either turned away and covering their eyes or groaning, some smiling in second-hand embarrassment. Except for Jungkook, who had his head thrown back in a loud cackling fit and would certainly have been rolling on the ground if it wasn’t for the expensive costume he was wearing. Taehyung finally had the decency to look a bit flustered.
The director monitored the scene on the camera’s screen and declared a bit grimly, “We can work with that.”
Jimin almost cried in relief, suddenly feeling a bit weak and shaky and restless at the same time.
He had done it.
It was all over now.
As if on cue, everybody busied themselves preparing for the next scene, which was between Yoongi and Taehyung. Nobody even referred to what had just happened, save for Hoseok’s high-pitched “kiss me too!” and Jungkook’s shit-eating grin. Was that it? Had Jimin really been the only one freaking out? He was forced to admit that he might have been, as everybody went about their business and the world continued to slowly turn on its axis.
He jumped off the patio, not trusting his legs on stairs right now, and went to stand next to the rest of the group to observe Yoongi and Taehyung act a dispute between the king and his servant. Seokjin rested a hand on his shoulder and smiled at him.
It was all good now.
The lukewarm, soil-scented air.
The melodious birds calling in the background.
The now perfectly blue sky that belonged more to a hot summer day than this spring morning, color so intense it seemed painted on…
It all finally registered in Jimin's senses. All the things that he had been missing so far, too preoccupied by trying to keep his breakfast in his stomach and act like everything was peachy.
But it was all good now.
It was, right?
“Be right back.”
Seokjin hummed in acknowledgement, sight staying riveted on king Yoongi throwing rolled up parchments at servant Taehyung.
Jimin strode past the lion statue and rushed into a small passage sneaking between trees and bushes. The patchy shade partially alleviated the discomfort of his attire but didn’t do anything for the one he was feeling in the pit of his stomach. He should have been free of any trouble now that the stupid staged kiss was done with – it hadn’t been as mortifying as in Jimin’s imagination and he had overreacted a bit but he wasn’t ready to admit that just yet – but what had happened with Taehyung inside the dim hall had released a whole other torrent of worries.
There, under an arch of green leaves and white flowers, he replayed the moment he had shared with his best friend over and over again, each time getting more lost and anxious. How could he have let that happen? How was he supposed to face Taehyung every day now?
A chest suddenly colliding with his back yanked him up to the surface of his thoughts. Heart jumping, Jimin knew without needing to look that it was Taehyung who was trussing him up in his arms again.
“So, t’wasn’t that bad, huh? Told you it wasn't weird.”
Jimin turned around in the hug and took a step back. Taehyung was looking at him with expectant eyes and a sheepish, unusually pink tinted smile. He was almost vibrating in his light green hanbok, obviously anticipating Jimin’s next words.
“I... Taehyung, it is weird. It's freaking weird.”
Taehyung face fell dramatically – it would have seemed excessive coming from anybody else but Jimin knew that his friend genuinely was that expressive – and his grip on Jimin's arms loosened, loosened some more and then disappeared entirely.
If he allowed himself to react on instinct, Jimin would blurt apology upon apology and pet Taehyung all over until his downturned smile graced his beautiful face again because a being as kind and as good as him only deserved to be happy. But, as much as he wanted to be a good friend, he couldn't just overlook the fact that what was happening wasn’t nothing special as Taehyung seemed to believe.
The thing was that he just didn’t want to make him sad or feel rejected or any of the other negative emotions his expression was betraying right now. And, above all, he didn’t want to lose him. This was what it all boiled down to again.
Because…
Because Taehyung was the best and he liked him so much.
Oh.
Oh.
Right.
Jimin took a big mental inspiration and made up his mind.
“Hum, so,” he rushed in an unsteady voice, perhaps even more nervous than during their scene earlier.
Taehyung froze in his quiet retreat.
“So you…” Jimin cringed as even he could hear his own lisp at this point. “You should show me more. You know, that it’s not weird.”
That was a whole new level of lame and the last time he ever attempted smooth talk. He really hoped that the tentative smile that accompanied his words made them at least passable.
“I mean, i-if you want to...” And now he had gone and added insult to injury. Why could he never just shut up?
Taehyung’s mouth went slack with a small wet noise that reminded Jimin of their earlier fooling around and he facepalmed in embarrassment – as much of his face as his small hand could cover anyway. He bravely maintained eye contact with Taehyung's searching gaze through his fingers despite his burning cheeks. Taehyung seemed to find what he was looking for because he thankfully reverted back to his happy self.
In fact, Taehyung burst out laughing so hard that a few drops of his saliva landed on Jimin's cheek.
“Eww, Tae!”
“Sorry,” the boy managed, “but that was, that was… just so bad.”
Jimin slapped his arm and had a mind to sulk but Taehyung was smiling wide again, eyes crinkling and nose scrunching under the strength of his grin, and how could he get mad while witnessing that? He had never been able to, however annoying Taehyung could be sometimes. He still furrowed his eyebrows for good measure, but that only rekindled Taehyung’s hilarity.
“Oh god, oh god, don't, please, I can't breathe,” Taehyung gasped, holding onto Jimin's hanbok.
“You're such a dick.”
“But you like me,” Taehyung sing-sang back, still a bit out of breath.
There was a short silence during which they locked eyes and Jimin realised that Taehyung was not as confident as he might have appeared and his statement sounded just as much as a question.
“I… well,” Jimin eloquently said, unable to muster an acceptable response without making it sound like a sappy confession.
He threw a frustrated look at Taehyung from under his lashes as he felt a blush creep back on his face. After a second of owlish staring, Taehyung’s face lit up to its maximum potential.
“Please, say no more! I am most honored, my dear friend!” he excitedly exclaimed.
Jimin groaned and turned away, facing a flowery bush instead of the flowery douche he had to deal with on a daily basis.
Said douche let a smug giggle escape him before obstructing Jimin's view and enveloping him in his arms again. The long hanbok sleeves wrapping around him only made him feel smaller and safer than usual – apparently, they had hugged enough for there to be an ‘usual’ already. Jimin remained unmoving despite the comforting feeling, face lowered and scrunched up in a pout, but it was already becoming hard to keep a flustered smile from budding on his lips.
“It's okay, I like you too,” Taehyung said in a deep voice that made both their chest vibrate.
“Shut up.”
Jimin wanted to punch something, or, well, someone , but he was feeling too weirdly giddy to do it. And embarrassed. Oh, the embarrassment.
“Charming Jiminie…” Taehyung crooned in response as he gently swayed them both, moony eyes appraising the top of Jimin’s wig.
Apparently, Taehyung had decided that even more embarrassment was needed.
“Lovely Jiminie…”
Jimin could have sworn that they had reached the highest attainable level though.
“Cutie Ji-”
He had been wrong.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.”
Jimin grabbed Taehyung’s face and, for the first time, initiated a kiss.
All things considered, Taehyung had been right. It was not that weird.