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Chapter Text

The first love letter Jimin ever wrote had been for Min Yoongi.

It had been sixth grade. Jimin remembers the way it had felt, when Yoongi gave him a gentle pat to his hair and told him what a good job he’d done when he’d heard about Jimin receiving honours, the quiet afternoons spent with Yoongi guiding his hands across piano keys. He remembers thinking that his Yoongi-hyung was the coolest, the most perfect hyung, the prince charming of he’d always dreamt of.

From his calloused hands to his soothing, drawling voice, Jimin had been utterly enraptured.

Of course, he could never tell him. High school might be a terrifying place, but middle school is filled with absolute animals. Confessing to anyone — albeit someone older than him — would be mortifying beyond belief.

So, Jimin had done the only thing he could do. He'd written a letter, filled page after page with everything Yoongi had ever made him feel, and sealed it away in the box beneath his bed.

Min Yoongi had been Jimin’s first love. But he hadn’t been the last.

Throughout the years, Jimin had taken up the habit of writing letters to every one of his fleeting but heartfelt crushes. They’re his safe place, but also the monster under his bed, the depth of his feelings laid bare for scrutiny should anyone ever find it.

He hadn’t thought they’d ever be brought to light, like a nightmare come true.

“Could you repeat that?” Jimin asks mildly.

Jeon Jungkook, only one in Jimin’s long list of love letter addressees, cocks his head a little with confusion. “Look… Jimin,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hyung,” he tacks on belatedly. “I’m really grateful you… feel that way. And the letter is really well-written. It’s just… I broke up with my girlfriend last week, and things are weird right now, you know? Don’t get me wrong, I really appreciate that you feel that way about me, and I think you’re a great person — Jimin?”

Jimin snaps out of the trance he’d fallen into, tearing his eyes away from the letter held in Jungkook’s grasp. He vaguely wonders when he’ll wake up. He tries to focus, he really does, but what he really wants is to snatch his secret right back out of Jungkook’s hand and just run for it.

Jungkook makes it impossible, though, because he slips the letter into his back pocket. Jimin resists the urge to scream. And the urge to reach back there and just take it back, and end this nightmare himself. Jungkook waves a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his horrified stupor. “You good?”

“I’m great,” Jimin says, slightly winded. “Um, where exactly did you get that?”

The confusion only grows on Jungkook’s face. “What do you mean?”

“My… My letter.” The contents of my fucking heart, Jimin thinks in despair.

Jungkook looks at him like he’s grown a second head. “The mail box?”

“Oh my god,” Jimin says faintly. “Is this really happening?”

“… Look, I’m sorry if this is a bit harsh, but it wouldn’t be fair for me to leave you hanging or lead you on. I have to tell you it’s just not going to happen. I liked the letter, and it’s sweet that you took the time to write everything out to me, but…”

Jimin can see Jungkook’s mouth moving, but he’s fixating, on the clarity of everything before him. The courtyard of their school. The old spray paint on the asphalt. The way the sunlight makes the crown of Jungkook’s dark hair gleam.

The sight of Min Yoongi headed their way from across the lacrosse field, in his hand, held tight in his grasp is —

His letter.

“Oh my god.”

Jungkook’s lips twist up into what might be described as pitying. “Do you… need a minute or something?”

“I need you to stop talking for a second,” Jimin whispers urgently.

“What? Are you seriously pissed because I — mmph.”

He’s cut short, when Jimin shoves him up against the nearest tree and leans up to mash their mouths together. He can feel Jungkook standing stock still beneath his hands, but he can’t pay attention to him at the moment. He can only hope and pray that Yoongi has caught sight of them and decided to leave them alone — please, please, please.

He can only think about Seokjin-hyung’s face if he found out, that Jimin had sent his ex-boyfriend a love letter, like some sort of horrible backstabber, and the guilt is so awful it makes his skin crawl, even though he knows he hadn’t sent it. Even though he knows his feelings for Yoongi have all but faded through the years and —

Jimin isn’t a horrible person. So why is this happening to him?

Eventually, he thinks enough time has passed without altercation that the coast is clear, and he pulls back. When Jimin peers around Jungkook’s shoulder, he find that Yoongi is nowhere to be seen. He lets out a breath of relief.

The feeling is short-lived. When he looks up, Jungkook is staring back at him, eyes wide, pupils blown, cheeks faintly red because Jimin must’ve been suffocating him with his mouth, and his eyes filled with what might be shock or fury — Jimin doesn’t know him well enough to be able to tell right away.

“Sorry,” Jimin says, going for casual as he gives him a friendly tap on the chest. “Thanks.”

With that, Jimin takes off in a sprint, before any words can even fully form on Jungkook’s lips.

He’s not going to wake up, he’s sure of that now. This nightmare is reality, and Jimin —

Jimin is furious.

“Kim Taehyung,” Jimin announces, storming into the school theatre. “Get your sorry ass over here.”

Taehyung has the utter gall to finish reciting his next line before hopping off the stage. Jimin waits, foot tapping with impatience. Taehyung waves over his shoulder in apology to his fellow students before approaching him with the fearlessness of a natural predator. “Didn’t know you were interested in drama, Jiminnie. Corn chip?”

At the proffered food offering, Jimin takes it before whipping it right back at his best friend’s face. Taehyung manages to dodge it, because he’s apparently hell-bent on pissing Jimin off today.

“What’s wrong — ”

Jimin seizes him by the front of his gwanbok. “Don’t ‘what’s wrong’ me, you little fiend. Did you send my letters?”

“What letters — ow, ow, okay, ow! You’re going to pull out my piercing!”

Jimin lets go of his ear, folding his arms across his chest, fuming. “The letters.”

Taehyung takes a slow, crunching bite of a corn chip. “I’m not following. Why are you mad at me this time?”

Jimin frowns at the implicit jab. They don’t fight that often. “My letters. You know… the — the ones I wrote to… I know you know what I’m talking about!”

“Ah…” Taehyung bunches up his chip bag and tosses it over his shoulder into the trash. Somehow, the crumpled plastic lands perfectly center. Jimin is too annoyed to be impressed with Taehyung’s antics today, but… that had been pretty cool. “Those letters.”

“Yeah. Those letters,” Jimin hisses. “The ones you sent to all of my old flames like a horrible best friend!”

Taehyung wags his finger at him. “You using ‘old flame’ in a conversation is only one of the reasons you don’t have a boyfriend, Jiminnie.”

“Don’t get smart with me! Why did you do it? Have you been harbouring some secret grudge on me and were just waiting all these years to make me suffer? I told you about the letters in confidence!”

“Yee of little faith,” Taehyung berates. “I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have a grudge on you. As a matter of fact, I think having a grudge on you is impossible, as annoying as that is.”

Jimin pauses. Then he narrows his eyes, suspicious. “But you’re the only one I’ve ever told…”

“You sure about that?”

Jimin’s pretty damn sure. “If you didn’t do it, then who did?”

“Are you sure you didn’t just send them off in your sleep or something?”

“Kim Taehyung — ”

“Wait, hang on. You’re saying those letters were sent out? As in, all of them?”

Jimin’s really starting to get the feeling Taehyung hadn’t done it. “Yes. Now you see why I’m freaking out.”

“Every single one?”

“Yes. That’s what I just said.”

“Even the one you wrote to — ”

Jimin is quick to slap a hand over Taehyung’s mouth, silencing him incompletely. “Yes," he says, voice shrill. "Including that one.”

Taehyung licks his palm, taking the moment Jimin yanks his hand back to question, “Have you talked to him?”

“No. And I’m not going to.”

“Then what are you going to do? He’s going to want to talk.”

“It’s Yoongi-hyung we’re talking about,” Jimin mumbles. “We’ve once went a whole month without talking.”

“Yeah, sure. Before you sent him a love letter.”

Jimin gives him a smack on the arm. “I didn’t send it!”

“You should probably tell him that, then,” Taehyung points out. “Y’know. Since he’s not a mind reader.”

“… You have to tell him for me.”

“No way. Baby.”

“Taehyung. Taehyungie. I’ll buy you lunch for a week. No, I’ll buy you coffee for a month.” Jimin bats his eyelashes and shakes Taehyung’s arm in a valiant effort to sway his heart along the way. Unfortunately, his best friend is about the only person in the world immune to his puppy-dog eyes.

Taehyung pinches Jimin’s cheek with a leering grin. “Nice try. But I don’t do things for you because you ask me to.”

Jimin scowls, dropping the act. “You don’t do anything for me period.”

“Now that’s just untrue,” Taehyung says, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. “I do a lot of things for you. For example, this.”

“Kim Taehyung, what are you doing?” Taehyung holds his phone out of reach as Jimin makes a swipe for it. “Tae! Cut it out, this isn’t funny — ”

Taehyung thwarts him away with a cackle. “Don’t worry, I’m just saying hi to Yoongi-hyung. Can’t I text my friends?”

“You evil, snot-nosed brat — ”

Jimin is in the midst of hanging off Taehyung’s arm, trying to wrestle the phone away as Taehyung exercises some impressive one-handed texting skills, when someone clears their throat.

They pull apart, and Jimin glances up to find Jung Hoseok standing in front of them, the captain of the school dance club and Jimin's second love still in his gym clothes, one hand in his pocket and a friendly grin on his face. Jimin sucks in a panicked breath.

Oh —

Oh no.

“Hey, Jiminnie. Taehyungie.”

Taehyung pats Jimin on the back in commiseration. “Hey, Hoseok-hyung.”

“Hi,” Jimin says, wishing desperately he could drag Taehyung in front of him and just use him as a human shield.

“You don’t look happy to see me,” Hoseok remarks, and Jimin reddens.

“No, that’s — I am. Things are just… kind of a mess right now, and — ”

“Wanna talk about it? We haven’t caught up in a while.”

Jimin glances up. Taehyung gives him an encouraging tap to his chin. It’s not much help, but Jimin glances back to Hoseok, trying desperately not to think about what he’s certain Hoseok is hiding in his pocket. “Yeah. Okay,” he sighs in defeat. “Let’s talk.”

“So all of your, uh, love letters,” Hoseok says, glancing down to the letter still in his hands. “Someone just sent them out randomly?”

"Yeah." Jimin buries his face in hands. “I swear I wrote that in the eighth grade.”

Hoseok grins, pulling Jimin’s hands away to look him in the eyes. “Hey. It was a really nice letter. I was having a bad day, all the stress was getting to me, and I get home, and what do you know? There's a personalised feel-better letter from Park Jimin himself waiting for me.”

“Stop,” Jimin protests weakly.

“I’m glad I could help you,” Hoseok says, voice gentle as ever. It had been that kind of tone that Jimin had fallen in love with. “Back then. You helped me a lot, too.”

Jimin rubs at his eyes, chest easing a bit. He gives a tentative smile and earns a blinding one in return. “I was a little shit.”

“Well, yeah. You’ve mellowed out a lot, huh?”

“… I wasn’t that bad.”

“You were never that bad,” Hoseok agrees, patting Jimin on the head fondly, mussing up his hair. Jimin scowls but can’t be bothered to fix it right now.

“I just… I don’t know what to do. I’ve… I’ve liked a lot of people, hyung. But I’ve fallen out of love with just as many, and — I don’t know. Yoongi-hyung got a letter, too.”

Hoseok makes a noise of sympathy. “It’ll be okay, Jimin-ah. He’ll understand.”

“But I don’t want him to understand. I want him to — not know. I liked him for so long, and I stopped liking him, and then he started dating hyung, and he was just around all the time and — He was never supposed to know. None of you were.”

“Look,” Hoseok says seriously, prompting Jimin to look up from his sulking. “If I’m being honest with you here, I really don’t think anything bad will come out of this. The letters are really great. All you have to do is tell them it’s something you wrote a long time ago. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Trust me. Jimin. You trust hyung, don’t you?”

Jimin nods sullenly.

“Don’t make that face because it hurts my heart. Do you want this back?”

Jimin shakes his head when Hoseok tries to hand him the letter. “Keep it. If it made you feel better…” He manages a weak smile. “At least one good thing would’ve come out of this, right?”

“… Having your darkest secret exposed is one thing, but when a secret’s as pure as yours is, everything is going to be just fine, Jimin. You’ll see.”

Jimin isn't convinced, and he nods miserably. “I hope so. But um, hyung. There’s one more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“I think… I think I kissed Jeon Jungkook.”

“… I’m sorry. You… what now?”

Jimin spends the rest of the day skirting the hallways and avoiding all of Jungkook’s usual hangout spots. At the end of the day, he manages to make it all the way to the parking lot in one piece.

He’s so, so close to escaping his personal hell. But then he remembers that his ride is Seokjin, and Jimin has to take a moment to reorient himself.

Everything is fine, a voice that sounds like Hoseok-hyung’s stubbornly insists in his mind. Everything’s fine, everything’s fine…

He power-walks across the lot.

“Park Jimin!” a voice is calling. Ignore it, ignore it. “Don’t ignore me, damn it! Wait, just a — I said wait.”

A hand snags his backpack, and Jimin stops mid-step, whipping around to find a furious Jeon Jungkook glaring down at him.

Yeah. Screw that. Everything is not fucking fine.

“Oh, Jungkook,” Jimin says, pretending to sound surprised, like he hadn’t heard Jungkook calling for him from a mile away. “I was just about to leave, so, um, talk to you later?”

“No,” Jungkook snaps, tightening his grip on Jimin’s backpack handle like he’s afraid Jimin will try to make a run for it. Well, his instincts are good, Jimin will give him that. “I told you that it wasn’t going to happen and you kiss me? Was I unclear or something? I don’t like you that way.”

“I get it,” Jimin says, snatching his bag out of Jungkook’s grip. “I really, really do. My ride’s here, so I have to go.”

“Do you really get it?” Jungkook asks. “Because it didn’t feel like you got it.”

Jimin grits his teeth. "Trust me. You were perfectly clear." Then he decidedly marches away, ducking into Seokjin’s waiting car and rolling up the window before Jungkook can get any funny ideas. But luckily, when he dares a glance up, Jungkook has given up and is headed in the opposite direction, probably towards his car.

Jimin sinks into his seat, feeling more exhausted than he has in ages.

Beside him, Seokjin is giving him a scrutinizing look. It’s only then that Jimin realises the car hasn’t started.

“Yes?” Jimin queries, willing his voice not to wobble.

“What did that no-good punk say to you just now?” Seokjin asks. “If he’s bullying you, just tell me, Jimin-ah, and I’ll give him a piece of my mind. Hyung has a blackbelt, you know.”

God. Jimin loves his hyung so fucking much. And the thought only makes him feel worse, because Seokjin’s ex-boyfriend has his love letter.

“Jungkook’s not bullying me,” Jimin says. “Can we just go home, please? I’m tired.”

Seokjin regards him sharply for only a moment longer. “Of course, Jimin-ah. Long day?”

Jimin lets out a shaky laugh. “The longest.”

As soon as he gets home, Jimin peers beneath his bed to find that his box of letters is missing. He’d known as much, but the sight of it gone is just —

Jimin throws himself onto the bed, muffling a scream into his pillow.

If he’s lucky, the only ones who’d gotten a letter are the ones who’d approached him today. Kim Namjoon is probably now a country away by now, so there’s no way he’d even read something some kid he’d met for one fleeting summer had sent him, even if the letter had somehow managed to get to him. Right?

Jimin can’t think about this anymore. He buries his face into his pillow and tries not to cry. He’d written some… extremely, mortifyingly intimate things in those letters. He’d bared his whole heart out — poured everything he had into them.

Jimin falls into love hard and fast, and he’s not ashamed of that. But it’s another thing to have everyone he’s ever loved knowing about all the things Jimin had dreamt of doing with them, of how much Jimin wanted to hold their hand and kiss them beneath the stars —

He lets out another anguished scream. It’s not fucking fair. Who would’ve done this to him? Taehyung is the only one who even knows, and if it hadn’t been him — then who?

Is there someone out there who hates him that much?

A knock at his door startles him out of his thoughts. “Jimin-ah,” Seokjin’s voice comes through the wood. “Your bully is looking for you. Should I send him away with the bat?”

Jimin pushes pause on his wallowing to lift his head. “What?”

“The athletic-looking one from the parking lot.” Seokjin looks contrite as Jimin shuffles over to open his bedroom door. “Not as athletic as me, of course.”

Jimin sniffles. He should've known — Jungkook isn't the type to give up in anything. “Don’t hurt him. Just tell him I’m dead.”

“Something about that seems contradictory. Would he not care if you died? What a terrible kid — ”

“Hyung,” Jimin interjects, trying not to laugh. “It’s okay. I’ll go talk to him.”

“… I meant the bat thing!” Seokjin-hyung calls after him as he trudges to get the door.

“I know!” Jimin calls back.

He kind of wishes he’d taken Seokjin up on his offer. Because standing at the front door, knowing Jeon Jungkook is standing on the other side would normally be daunting. Standing there knowing he’d kissed Jeon Jungkook just this afternoon is utterly terrifying.

Jimin debates not opening the door, but ultimately decides he owes Jungkook an explanation at least, for laying one on him like that.

He opens the door.

Jungkook is standing there, leaning against the porch, arms crossed, hair sweeping over his eyes, every bit the boy Jimin had fallen in love with two years ago and yet nothing like him at all.

Jungkook had grown up, a lot. It had taken some time coming to terms with it, watching Jungkook swagger down the halls one summer, several inches taller, jawline sharper than Jimin had remembered it being, and a hardness to his eyes that Jimin hadn’t remembered at all.

The boy Jimin had fallen for hadn’t been… like this.

“Your brother, or something,” Jungkook begins.

“Sorry. He can be a bit… overbearing.”

“He said you were dead.”

“I hope you were sad for at least a second.” Jungkook doesn’t laugh. His lips don’t even twitch. Jimin sighs and steps outside, shutting the door behind him and joining him on the porch. “So about this afternoon…”

“I don’t like rejecting people,” Jungkook says. “I don’t like doing it three times.”

“Then don’t do it again,” Jimin tells him irritably. “I got it. I really did.”

“You kissed me.”

“Because I had to.”

Jungkook doesn’t appear to buy it.

“I know how it sounds, but I really had to. Can’t you just believe me?”

“I read all eight pages of your love letter. And you’re telling me to believe you just kissed me because… What? The universe compelled you to?”

“Don’t be a jerk,” Jimin snaps. “I did kiss you because I had to. And I wrote that letter to you years ago. I don’t feel that way anymore, so you don’t have to worry about me getting in the way of you and your girlfriend or whatever.”

Jungkook blinks. “You wrote it years ago?”

“Two. The year we met.” Jimin grimaces, wrapping his arms around himself and looking away. He doesn’t like admitting it, even though Jungkook knows every little bit he’d once felt already, in painstaking, elaborate, poetic detail.

“Then why send it to me now?”

“That’s the thing. I didn’t.”

“… What?”

Jimin bites his lip in frustration at the reminder. “Someone else sent it to you to… I don’t know. Mess with me, I guess.”

Jungkook’s gaze is unreadable as he processes this. “… Who?”

Jimin shrugs, morose.

“Okay, so say this is all true. Then why did you kiss me?”

“I told you. I — ”

“’Had to’ isn’t going to cut it, Jimin.”

Jimin glances behind him to the house warily. Making up his mind, he drags Jungkook down the steps so they can talk by Jungkook’s car, out of hearing distance.

“What the hell — ”

“I’ll tell you the truth, but you can’t tell anyone, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, fine.”

“I had to kiss you. So someone else wouldn’t think I like him.” At Jungkook’s look of disbelief, Jimin insists, “I know how this sounds! But… he got my letter too, and he used to date Seokjin-hyung, and it’s all really complicated.”

Jungkook is just looking at him.

“I swear it made sense in my head at the time,” he mumbles.

“Who?”

“… What?”

“Who’s the other guy?”

“You wouldn’t know him — ” At Jungkook’s glare, Jimin deflates. “Ugh, fine. It was Min Yoongi.”

Jungkook can be kind of scary, at times, when he gets like this. His gaze is intense, and his presence seems bigger, heavier than it really is. Jimin forces himself not to take a nervous step backwards, suddenly too-aware of their proximity.

“I told you, you wouldn’t know him.”

“Wait, if I'm getting this straight — You sent… more than one letter?”

“I told you I didn’t send them,” Jimin corrects reflexively. “But yeah. If they were all sent out, then I guess… five other people got one. Maybe six.”

“Six. And I’m just… one of them.”

Jimin furrows his brows. “Yeah. So you don’t have to worry about me liking you or something, because it’s really not like that.”

Jungkook works at his jaw in thought, staring over Jimin’s head. He seems… upset. Jimin supposes anyone would be, knowing they hadn’t been special.

“The other ones were also written a while ago, so…”

“So you don’t like him anymore,” Jungkook states. “That Yoongi guy.”

“No. We’re really just friends, and — ” Jimin cuts himself off, wondering why he sounds like he’s explaining himself to his boyfriend. “It’s not like that. And Seokjin-hyung can’t find out about this, okay? Jungkook, promise me.”

“I won’t tell him.”

“He’d hate me if he knew. They dated for years, and it’s just so wrong, and — ”

“Jimin. I swear I won’t tell him.”

“Okay… good. Great. Thanks. Well, I’m just going to… go back inside now. Um. Thanks for understanding. And I’m sorry for kissing you out of nowhere like that.”

“It’s fine. I get it.”

“Okay. Well. … Bye.”

Jimin hurries away, eager to escape the conversation.

He’s just about gotten to his front door when he feels a hand clasp around his wrist. Jimin startles, and Jungkook lets go, holding up his hands, placating.

“Just,” he starts. “I wanted to… Have you talked to that Yoongi guy yet?”

“No,” Jimin answers, perplexed. “I don’t know what to say to him.”

“Well, you could tell him we’re dating. If you… if you want. You want to make sure he doesn't think you still like him, right? So just tell him you like me. Problem solved.”

Jimin opens his mouth. Not a single sound escapes.

“People have been talking, at school. They already think we are. Dating, I mean. Guess someone saw us kissing.”

“People need to find better things to do,” Jimin says weakly.

“We could give them something else to talk about.”

The implication hits, and Jimin blinks in shock. “… Why?” He narrows his eyes. “Why would you… You don’t even like me.”

“I like you just fine,” Jungkook disagrees, sounding strangely defensive. “Anyway, it wouldn’t be real.”

“But… why? What’s in it for you?”

“It’d make my ex-girlfriend jealous. If she knew I was dating someone else…” He shrugs, not meeting Jimin's accusing gaze.

“So you want to use me to piss off your ex,” Jimin states flatly.

“Didn’t you use me to piss off your… what is he to you, anyway?”

“That’s none of your business. And I wasn’t trying to piss him off, I just didn’t want to talk to him.”

“Okay, fine. So are you in or not?”

Jimin can see the merit of putting up the act for Yoongi and Seokjin, but playing pretend for the school seems… out of his league. He’d much rather spend the rest of his senior year quietly, and dating Jeon Jungkook would be anything but quiet.

“Well?”

“I’ll think about it,” Jimin says, making his way back to his house.

“No pressure," Jungkook calls after him. "If you don’t want to, it’s whatever. You can still tell your brother and the other guy that we’re dating, if you can’t think of anything else to say.”

Jimin pauses in his steps. “Jungkook — ”

“Just think of it as a 'thank you' from me,” Jungkook says as he backs away. And when Jimin chances a look at him over his shoulder, he’s wearing that crooked, boyish grin Jimin had fallen in love with years ago. “For all those sweet things you said about my… what was it? My 'otherworldly, sparkling eyes'? My 'honey-sweet voice'?”

Jimin goes instantly red. Warmth and embarrassment floods through him at once. “Jeon Jungkook. You — ”

Jungkook laughs, and — fuck. The sound really is honey-sweet. Jimin is livid. “See you tomorrow, Jimin.”

“You’d better hope you don’t,” Jimin bites out. “And that’s hyung to you.”

“I’ll think about calling you that,” Jungkook calls over his shoulder. “After we go on our first date.”

Jimin fumes at the audacity. He hadn’t agreed to anything — hadn’t even managed to say a word, left stunned on his front steps like a deer caught in headlights, unable to do anything but stew in fury as he watches Jungkook pull away in his Camaro.

This… cocky little brat.

Jimin slams the door once he manages to make his feet work again. “I should’ve let you scare him with the bat,” he tells Seokjin as he passes by the kitchen.

“The offer always stands,” his hyung hums.

Jimin goes to hole himself back in his room, wondering how the hell his boring, monotonous life had turned into something straight out of a rom-com.

He’s not going to give in so easily. He’s going to make Jungkook work for it. Park Jimin doesn’t need hand-outs, and he doesn’t need favours from a big baby whose body had grown up way too fast —

His phone rings. Jimin fumbles to pick it up blindly, assuming it’s Taehyung.

Yawning into his hand, Jimin mumbles, “What? I’m not in the mood to talk about anime right now.”

“That’s good to hear,” Yoongi’s voice drawls from the receiver. Jimin sits up straight in his bed, heartbeat kicking up, thudding loud in his ears. “Because I don’t want to talk about anime.”

“That’s a shame,” Jimin says, in a feeble attempt at lightheartedness. “The new episode of Gintama was really funny.”

“Park Jimin,” Yoongi says, and Jimin sits up straighter, if possible, eyes squeezed shut. “Are you dating someone?”

Shit. Jimin had said he wouldn’t give in so easily, but… to have the offer dangling there, an escape route just flashing wildly in front of his eyes like a neon sign… Jimin would have to be a stronger man not to succumb. So much for not needing favours. “Maybe. Yes. I. I’m dating Jungkook. Jeon… Jeon Jungkook.”

“… Then what the hell was that letter I got in the mail?”

“A letter? That’s weird. I don’t know, maybe the mailman wanted to give you something. Because, um, because you never get any mail. Hyung, when did you start checking your mail?”

“When I started receiving love letters,” Yoongi snarks, and Jimin really fucking hates him sometimes. Yoongi-hyung is just so mean. “Is this something we’re going to talk about, or do people normally send other guys love letters when they’re already dating someone?”

Jimin lets out a long breath. “Okay, so the truth is, I used to… have feelings for you, like a long, long time ago? And I wrote them down, because I just, like to do that. To sort everything out. Those letters are like a diary for me, and you were never supposed to get it, and — Please don’t tell Seokjin-hyung. Please. He’ll hate me.”

“I’m not gonna tell him. Fucking hell, Jimin. Are you making this up right now?”

“I swear I wrote that letter back in sixth grade.”

“… You were one hell of an eloquent sixth grader.”

Jimin laughs half-heartedly. “I know. Wasted talent and all that, right?”

Yoongi goes quiet for a moment. “Who’s this Jeon Jungkook guy and how does he fit into this whole shit-storm?”

“Um. I kind of wrote him a letter too…”

“… I always knew you were a mushy-feelings kind of kid, but this is something else.”

Jimin pouts. “Hey. That’s what’s endearing about me.”

“Think what you want.”

“Hyung. You’re so mean.”

“Someone’s got to tell you the facts, Park Jimin. Who else is around to do it but me?”

“That’s a lot of words for saying ‘yes, I’m the meanest’.”

Yoongi laughs then, on the other end, and Jimin releases a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

“Are we… Are we okay, hyung?”

“We’re fine, Jimin.”

“Okay. Okay, good. Because we’re never talking about this again, we’re going to pretend this never happened — ”

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over my ‘gravelly, manly voice’ and my ‘big, capable hands’ — ”

“Please,” Jimin begs. “Please stop. I am going to die. I was small and feeble-minded.”

“I’ll spare you for today.”

“Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you — ”

“You really think I look extra-super-handsome under the sunlight?”

Jimin hangs up on him. He doesn’t know why he’d ever thought things would go down any differently.

Yoongi, surprisingly, calls him right back. Jimin grudgingly picks up.

“Alright, I’ll stop. I swear.” It sounds like he’s holding back laughter, and Jimin’s brow ticks with annoyance. “It’s cute, Park Jimin. Don’t be embarrassed.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t. You love it when I — ”

“If you continue that sentence, I’m going to hang up again.”

“Fine,” Yoongi says.

“Why did you call me back?” Jimin asks testily.

“Because I hate being hung up on. And I had another question.”

“If it’s something about the letter — ”

“It’s not. It’s about your… boyfriend.”

“My — ” Jimin clamps his lips shut, remembering at the last instant. “What… What about him?”

“Well,” Yoongi drawls. “Obviously, I want to meet the guy who’s dating my favourite dongsaeng.”

“We all know your favourite dongsaeng is Taehyung,” Jimin says, avoiding the issue.

“I wanna meet him. Don’t change the subject.”

“… You’re gonna try and embarrass me, aren’t you?”

“You do that just fine on your own.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Alright, don’t hang up. You know I’m gonna meet him eventually, so you might as well give in.”

“I’ll send you a photo.”

“I've seen what he looks like. Wish I didn’t.”

“God,” Jimin says, close to tears as he thinks back to Yoongi seeing him make out with Jungkook at school. “You’re really the worst.”

“Can't say I haven't heard that one before.”

Jimin hangs up that night, dreading the prospect of Yoongi in the same room as Jungkook. Two years ago, it might have been a welcome prospect. Jungkook’s sparkling doe eyes and Yoongi’s laid-back demeanor would’ve meshed just fine.

These days… Jungkook can be unpredictable. Jimin’s uneasy, and Yoongi’s always been able to pick up on Jimin’s nerves as effortlessly as a lion stalking down a mouse — he’s perceptive, and he’ll probably figure out Jungkook and him are faking it in seconds —

Fuck.

But even taking that chance would be better than Yoongi thinking Jimin still likes him like he used to.

Jimin flops back onto his bed with a groan.

He really hadn’t wanted to do this.

do you have jeon jungkook’s number? Jimin texts Taehyung.

The ?????? comes immediately. Followed by a stream of o’s that has Jimin smiling fondly.

The smile drops as Taehyung sends the number over, followed by a peach and eggplant emoji.

Jimin has the worst friends.

meet me after practise tomorrow please, he sends to the number saved under ‘Boyfriend’. Then he locks his phone and resolutely does not look at it again.

When Jimin gets to the playing field the next day, he knows he’s early. The lacrosse team is still in the middle of practise, loud shouts bellowed around him. Jimin doesn’t come around here often. He doesn’t like the way it feels so out in the open, the way the guys on the lacrosse team always seem to stare, like a pack of hungry wolves.

Jimin takes a seat at the bleachers, resting his bag on his knees.

When he squints, he can make out Jungkook’s form by the goal posts. He’s saying something to their coach, waving an arm at his teammates before jogging in Jimin’s direction.

Jimin stiffens, shrinking a little under the eyes sent his way. He tries to signal with his hand that he doesn’t mind waiting, so can you turn back around please and go back to playing — but Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice.

As he nears, Jimin stands to greet him, because it feels wrong not to, when Jungkook had effectively interrupted practise for everyone just to talk to him.

“Hey,” Jungkook says, wiping the sweat from his face with the front of his jersey. “You’re early.”

“Yeah. Hyung had to go to school, so…”

“You said you wanted to talk?” Jungkook reminds him.

“Right, um. You know that stuff you said yesterday?”

Understanding dawns on Jungkook’s expression, something slow and hopeful that spreads across his features like a sunrise. “Yeah.”

“You meant it?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Then…” Jimin sucks in a breath. “I’m in.”

Jungkook grins, sweet and pleased, and Jimin feels sixteen all over again, head over heels in love with the quiet boy with stars in his eyes and a smile like a dream come true. “Nice,” he says, stilted, something hesitant and not-Jungkook-like about it.

It has Jimin feeling braver than he’s felt in front of Jeon Jungkook for a long time.

He leans up, closes his eyes, and presses a chaste kiss to the corner of Jungkook’s lips.

Jungkook looks a little lost as Jimin pulls away, and it has warmth fluttering in his belly. Jungkook has changed a lot, in many ways, but not in this. His mannerisms are still so… endearing.

“Sorry. Was that — ” He gasps as Jungkook reels him in once more by the waist. And the kiss he gives him then is far less innocent than Jimin’s little peck. In fact, it gets so heated that Jimin is winded by the time they pull apart, cheeks flaming; lips tingling.

He hadn’t realised he’d been clinging onto Jungkook’s jersey and he lets go hastily. Gives his chest a smack in an attempt at being stern.

“That — Don’t just do that.”

“If we’re doing this, we’re doing this properly,” Jungkook just tells him, glancing over his shoulder. “Anyway, I gotta get back to practise.”

“Right. I’ll be… I’m going inside. I have homework I didn’t finish yet, so — ”

“Can’t you do it here?” Jungkook interjects. “I’ll walk you to class when we’re finished. We’ll be done in fifteen.”

“No, I think I’m gonna head inside first,” Jimin mutters, leaning around him to give an awkward wave to one of Jungkook’s teammates, who waves back with a cheery smirk. “Yeah. Definitely going inside first.”

Jungkook casts an irritated glance over his shoulder before giving Jimin an apologetic frown. “I should’ve warned you, but the guys are going to be a pain in the ass now that they know we’re together. It’s not just you, they do this with everyone on the team. But if it bothers you, tell me.”

“It’s fine. I get it,” Jimin says, giving him a little push to the shoulder. “Go back to practise.”

Jungkook’s gaze softens, and it’s remarkable how it still manages to take Jimin’s breath away. This side of Jungkook had always been his favourite, even if it’s only pretend these days. “See you later, then?”

"Yeah. See you." Jimin waves once more and hurries into the school. It’s only just begun, and he’s probably being paranoid, but he feels all the eyes on him already.

He doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into.

“So,” Taehyung says, balancing on the two back legs of his chair. “You and Jeon Jungkook, huh?”

Jimin finishes up the last problem in the set before looking up. “Me and who now?”

“Don’t play dumb, Jiminnie, it isn’t cute,” Taehyung reprimands. “I need the details, give me all of them. How far did you two get? Are you going steady? When did you decide to finally step out of your shell and put yourself out there? Most importantly, why do I feel like I’m the last person to hear about it?”

“It’s not what you think,” Jimin says under his breath. His seatmate is a nosy eavesdropper. “I’ll tell you later, but remember the letters?”

Taehyung sucks in a breath. “No. Him too?”

“Him too.”

Taehyung gets out of his seat, bustling Jimin’s seatmate out of his and demanding that they switch.

His classmate looks irritated, but Taehyung always manages to get his way, and without much hassle, he drops into the seat right next to Jimin, eyes fierce and intent.

“Tell me everything.”

The cafeteria is utter chaos. Jimin is tempted to turn right back around as soon as he enters with Taehyung at his side, but Jungkook is approaching, and — that’s his boyfriend, so they probably have to eat together now? Or something? Jimin isn’t sure, he’s as new to this fake-boyfriend thing as he is to the real-boyfriend thing.

“Hey,” Jungkook says, leaning in to give him a long kiss. Jimin has to warn his heart to get used to this already. Jungkook’s clearly not bothered. So why should Jimin be?

“Oh my god,” Taehyung laments. “Is this what I have to deal with from now on?”

Jimin draws away from Jungkook’s side immediately. “No, he’s just — we’re not… This doesn’t have to be weird, Tae.” With his eyes, he begs Taehyung not to leave him alone with Jungkook, but Taehyung is already backing off with a wink.

Out loud, his traitorous best friend just says, “Sorry. I really don’t like third-wheeling.”

Promising future death with his glare, Jimin reluctantly turns away as Taehyung disappears with one of his usual lunchtime crowds. His next-to-usual crowd, that is, because his usual crowd is Jimin. Goddamn traitor.

“You wanna eat somewhere else?” Jungkook asks, drawing Jimin’s attention again.

Jimin looks around him uneasily, at the stares and the pointed whispers. “Yes, please.”

“Outside?”

Jimin nods, and Jungkook takes his hand, leading him back out the doors. His friends call for him, but he doesn’t pay them any mind.

It’s like it’s so easy for him — Jimin remembers that to be true about everything else, but he hadn’t thought being someone’s boyfriend would be in Jungkook’s endless repertoire.

It’ll be taxing on his heart, on the age-old feelings that threaten to resurface with every little gesture Jungkook does for him.

This had been a bad idea to begin with. He should probably set some ground rules — make it easier on himself in the long run.

They settle at one of the picnic benches on the courtyard. Jungkook doesn’t take the seat across from him, but instead sits to his left, so close that Jimin can feel his body heat.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jungkook asks, watching his expression carefully. “We can always call this off, you know.”

“No, I do. I’m just… I haven’t dated anyone before, so this is just new.”

Jungkook’s face goes all soft again, big eyes boring right into Jimin’s. It should be discomfiting, but it isn’t. Another thing Jimin had always loved about him, is that he’s completely free of judgement.

This is bad, he thinks. Being around Jungkook is reminding him of all the words he’d scribbled into that letter, all the love he’d poured right into the pages unfiltered.

“If I ever do something you don’t like, tell me,” Jungkook says.

“You’re fine,” Jimin assures. “Just… The kissing. It was — ”

“Too much?”

“Kissing is okay. Just… no tongue please?”

Jungkook looks a little disgruntled. “It won’t really be convincing if I can’t, you know… kiss you properly.”

“Keep it under ten seconds then,” Jimin offers.

“Alright,” Jungkook agrees indulgently. “Anything else?”

“No groping.”

“… I wasn’t — Alright. No groping.”

“And no telling my brother,” Jimin lists off.

“I won’t tell him. Can’t you trust me, if we’re going to do this?”

“I am trusting you,” Jimin protests.

“Then let me in a little. If I can’t even touch you, who’s going to believe we’re even together?”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t touch me. Just don’t grope me.”

Jungkook looks unconvinced. “You looked uncomfortable back there, in the cafeteria. You don’t like it when I get close.”

“I’m just not used to it. I don’t — I just need to get used to you.”

“What am I allowed to do then? Until you get used to me.”

Jimin considers this carefully. “Backhugs… are okay, I guess.”

Jungkook furrows his brows. “Backhugs?”

Jimin nods. “Like, hugging me from behind. It’ll help me get used to being us being… close.”

Jungkook makes a noise at the back of his throat, like he’s confused. “Is that what you think couples do?”

“… Is it not?” Jimin asks, feeling stupid all of a sudden.

“I don’t know,” Jungkook says. He wraps an arm around Jimin’s middle, pulling him onto his lap before Jimin can even think to protest, his chest flush against Jimin’s back. “Like this?”

Jimin flails a little, straining back to smack at Jungkook’s chest. “That’s not what I meant — ”

“Then what?” Jungkook asks impatiently, as Jimin scrambles off of him.

With a huff, Jimin goes around until he’s standing behind Jungkook. “No, just stay there. I mean stuff like…” He leans down, hugging Jungkook from behind and pulling back just as quickly. “I’ve seen couples do that.”

Jungkook gives him a long look, resting his cheek on his fist. “I still think what I did was better.”

Jimin flushes with embarrassment. “Well, it wasn’t.”

“So I can backhug you. And I can kiss you, as long as it’s under ten seconds. Is there a time limit for handholding?”

“… Hey. Are you making fun of me? Because I told you this is new to me, and if you’re going to be an asshole about it — ”

“No, Jimin. I swear I — Jimin, wait.” Jimin folds his arms across his chest, waiting. “I was just teasing. It’s fine if you’re not ready to do things, I don’t mind. Thanks for trusting me.”

“See, you can be sweet to me,” Jimin says, with a smile he can’t hold back.

Jungkook returns it, unfairly, irresistibly handsome. “I’ll be as sweet as you want.”

“Yeah?” Jimin asks.

“Yeah. I’ll drive you to school. I’ll bring you flowers, write you notes. The whole deal.”

“You’re really going to go all out for your fake-boyfriend?” Jimin doesn’t recall him doing any of that even for his ex-girlfriend when they’d been dating.

Jungkook’s lips twist down a bit, what Jimin interprets as rueful. “Yuna used to always tell me to do that sort of thing for her, but I never did. It’ll piss her off if she saw me doing it for you.”

Of course. Jimin lets out a tiny sigh. “It’d be nice to get a ride to school,” he admits. “Hyung always has to go out of his way to take me.”

“Then I’ll drive you, starting tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Jungkook,” Jimin says warmly. If anything, after they call this thing off, he hopes they can be friends again. He’d like to spend time with Jungkook when they don’t have to pretend to be something they aren’t anymore.

“It’s no problem,” Jungkook says, ducking his head a little, as if abashed. Jimin is, as ever, charmed.

“I’m going to call you 'Kookie',” he decides.

“You should call me ‘babe’ or something,” Jungkook disagrees.

“I’m not going to call you b… that!”

Jungkook snickers. “You couldn’t even say it. Couples do that, though.”

“’Kookie' is cute, and I think it suits you, so I’m using it,” Jimin says obstinately.

“Fine. I’m still not calling you ‘hyung’ though.”

“… You’re a goddamn brat.”

“Gonna have to get used to it.”

“Don’t have much of a choice,” Jimin agrees, settling back down onto the bench so he can finally eat his lunch.

Jungkook follows suit, cracking the seal of his soda and taking a long drink of it. “By the way, have you told your brother we’re dating?”

Jimin stills, as last night’s conversation comes back to him. “Not yet. But, um, there’s something I should probably tell you.”

“… What?”

“Yoongi-hyung, he… I actually ended up talking to him last night.”

When he glances up, Jungkook isn’t looking at him, gaze turned down to the table, fingers tight around the soda can. “And?”

“He, um… I told him we’re dating. And he wants to meet you.”

At this, Jungkook finally deigns to lift his head, expression returned to some semblance of normalcy. “You told him that yesterday?”

“Yeah.” Jimin winces. “I know we weren’t actually officially doing this, but you offered, and he started asking questions, and I panicked. I'm really sorry — ”

“Jimin, it’s fine.”

“It isn’t, I should’ve asked you again to make sure — ”

“Seriously. It’s fine. I told you it was okay.”

“Still…”

“So this guy wants to meet me? Then let him.”

“Is that…” Jimin hesitates. “If it’s weird, you don’t have to. He’s going to be pushy, and he’s going to interrogate you — ”

“Tricking him is the whole point of this,” Jungkook points out. “I’ll meet him next week. We’ll just get our story straight, you’ll get used to me touching you, and I’ll handle the rest of it.”

“… Thank you, Jungkook. Really.”

“You don’t have to thank me. This is me thanking you, remember?”

“You don’t have to thank me either.”

“Then think of this as us, doing each other favours. Then it’s all easy, right? No need to thank anyone. Actually, don’t thank me for anything I do from here on out. You’re my boyfriend, and I’m gonna do things for you. It’ll be weird if you’re always saying ‘thank you’ like we aren’t close.”

Jimin’s breath catches in his throat. Heart hammering in his chest, Jimin bravely leans in to peck Jungkook on the cheek. “That’ll be my ‘thank you’, okay? You don’t have to say thank you for anything either.”

“Alright,” Jungkook says, blinking away the surprise. Then he leans in kisses Jimin right on the lips. It feels like it’d lasted about three seconds, but Jimin, despite himself, melts right into it and may or may not have lost count. “That’ll be my ‘thank you’, then. Okay?”

“Okay,” Jimin says, voice tiny and decidedly not okay, wishing he could somehow fan the heat away from his cheeks without Jungkook noticing.

Jungkook grins and drapes an arm around his shoulders. They spend the rest of lunch like that, pressed up against one another, learning to be close.

“So,” Taehyung says the next day, leaning against the locker next to Jimin’s. “You two lovebirds are a sickening sight already.”

Jungkook had, true to his word, picked Jimin up and driven him to school, much to Seokjin’s displeasure. His hyung’s gotten it into his head that Jungkook’s some sort of delinquent — that he’s holding something over Jimin’s head. Jimin doesn’t understand it.

When they’d gotten to campus, Jungkook had kissed him, long and sweet, right where everyone could see them, and walked him all the way to class and everything. It is about as disorienting as it sounds, how much things have changed within the matter of days.

And all because of the addition of one Jeon Jungkook.

“Nothing to say for yourself?”

Jimin heaves a sigh. "What do you want me to say?"

"How about, 'sorry for being a lovesick menace'," Taehyung suggests. At Jimin's glare, he explains, "I saw the note. 'Your hands are the perfect size for holding,'" he narrates theatrically. "Saw it when it fell out of your binder in History. It hasn't even been a week, and you two are already officially the most nauseating couple in school."

Jimin rolls his eyes, opening his locker. “He isn't being serious. The notes are just to make his ex jealous.” He frowns as he finds himself face to face with a brightly coloured post-it note stuck to the inside of the door.

“Sure. So what’s that?”

“Jeon Jungkook,” Jimin whispers with a grimace.

Peeling it off, Jimin reads the message scrawled on its surface. prepare yourself for my superior backhugging skills, it reads.

Yeah, that obnoxious tone could only be —

A pair of arms wraps around his middle, and Jimin turns around, ready to berate Taehyung for reading over his shoulder, but — he quickly realises that it isn’t Taehyung, because Taehyung is giving him an exasperated look from in front of him.

Jimin peers around within the confines of Jungkook’s arms. “Hey. Don’t you have to get to practise?”

Hooking his chin over Jimin’s shoulder, Jungkook murmurs, “Mm. Needed to recharge before that. ‘Sides, I’m your ride home, right? You can't go without me.”

Jimin glances to Taehyung, who gives an ambiguous shrug and what Jimin knows is a familiar, ‘the teacher’s watching so I’ve got to be subtle’, leer. This punk. “I’ve got drama club, so you two have at it. See ya, Jiminnie. Later, Jimin’s 'boyfriend'.”

“Later,” Jungkook responds with a snort.

“You still owe me for ditching me yesterday!” Jimin calls after his back.

As Taehyung rounds the corner, Jungkook pulls back to look at him. “Are you going to wait for me?”

“You want me to just wait around for an hour?” He doesn’t mean to whine, but it’s almost a whine, and Jungkook gives him a borderline condescending look.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“How?” Jimin asks.

“I’ll bring you flowers tomorrow. What kind do you like?”

“I don’t want flowers. I want to go home.”

“I’ll just ask Taehyung-hyung which kind you like.”

“He wouldn’t know something like that — Hey. Why does he get to be ‘hyung’ but not me?”

“… Because you’re Jimin-boyfriend.”

“I wasn’t Jimin-hyung even before I was Jimin-boyfriend.”

“C’mon, Jimin-ssi,” Jungkook cajoles. As if Jimin is so incredibly weak-willed that he would fall for something like that. “Wait up for me.”

“… I’ll be at the library.”

“Come watch me play.”

“Why?”

“You never come to my games. At least come to my practises once in a while.”

Jimin furrows his brows. “How do you know I don’t come to your games?”

Jungkook quickly looks away, avoiding his gaze. “Tae-hyung tells me you don’t.”

“Lacrosse isn’t really my thing,” Jimin confesses.

“But I’m your thing now. Right?” And really, Jungkook has no right to say such heart-wrenching things with such a heart-wrenching expression. This isn’t even real. Jimin is so utterly weak.

“Okay. I’ll go. I won’t know what’s going on, though.”

“That’s okay,” Jungkook says. “Just watch me.”

“I will,” Jimin answers quietly, slipping the note into his pocket, and lets Jungkook tug him outside to the playing field.

Jimin dozes off about halfway through Jungkook’s practise. He doesn’t mean to, but the weather’s nice today, and he doesn’t understand the game enough for it to keep his attention.

Jungkook wakes him up when it’s time to leave, wearing a frown on his lips. He’s still in his uniform. “You weren’t watching.”

“I watched half of it,” Jimin protests, wiping the sleep from his eyes with a yawn. Guiltily, he peers up at Jungkook. “I’m sorry. I’ll stay awake next time.”

“You’ll come watch again?”

Jimin doesn’t get why Jungkook sounds surprised. “I said I would.”

“You don’t have to. Lacrosse isn’t your thing. I was just making a big deal out of nothing — ”

“You’re my thing now,” Jimin echoes, getting to his feet and brushing Jungkook’s sweaty hair back from his forehead. “And my ride. So I’ll come watch as much as you want me to.”

Jungkook wets his lips with his tongue, clearing his throat. “Right. Good. So, I’m gonna go change, and I’ll be right back out. You can wait in the car if you want.”

“Um. If that’s okay with you — ” Jimin fumbles a bit when Jungkook tosses him the keys to his Camaro. “Is this really okay?”

“Yeah, of course. You’re not gonna drive off with it, are you?” Jungkook teases. “Leave me stranded here all night?”

Jimin giggles. “Maybe if I actually had my license.”

Jungkook laughs. And they stand there, smiling at each other like idiots, until Jungkook clears his throat and adds, “I’ll, uh, see you in a few?”

“Okay. Don’t rush, or you’ll slip in the showers.”

Jungkook casts him an irritable look. “I’m not a kid.”

Jimin just blows a kiss and waves him off. Jungkook jogs away, and Jimin sighs and heads to the parking lot.

Dating Jeon Jungkook should come with an instruction manual or something, because there are simply too many things he isn’t prepared for, so many things that even the past him — the Jimin that had been in love with Jeon Jungkook — could never have envisioned.

Jungkook sends him home that day, but not without first stopping for ice cream. To commemorate their three-day anniversary, Jungkook had decided. Two-day anniversary, Jimin had corrected.

Then they’d argued about which day truly counted, because if they started from the day Jimin had told Yoongi about them dating, then it really would be three.

When he’d gotten home that day, it was close to six, and even though the sun hadn’t even started setting yet, Seokjin glares at him, like he'd caught Jimin creeping back in at the dead of night.

“Hyung,” Jimin starts tentatively over dinner. “I’m dating someone.”

Seokjin gives him a long, profoundly startled look. “What?”

“It hasn't been for long. We only started dating three days ago.” Two, he chastises himself internally.

“The boy from the parking lot?”

Jimin winces. “That wasn’t what it looked like. We were just… um, arguing that day. Because I didn’t want to admit I… liked him, even though we kissed earlier. He isn’t a bad guy, hyung. He’s really sweet.”

Seokjin frowns around a mouthful of food. “You never told me you liked him.”

“I probably did, actually,” Jimin says. “Two years ago.”

Seokjin’s chopsticks fall to his plate. “Two years ago was Jeon Jungkook.”

“Yeah. He’s grown a bit, but that’s… that’s him.”

“… That scrawny little Jungkook?”

“He wasn’t scrawny,” Jimin defends.

“The kid was made of marshmallows,” Seokjin says, waving a dismissive hand. “But you said you stopped liking him.”

“Well, I started liking him again.”

Seokjin hasn’t made a move to pick his chopsticks back up. “When?”

“Um…” Jimin tries frantically to think of a realistic number. “Two months ago? Maybe?”

His hyung slowly resumes eating. “Well,” he says haltingly. Jimin watches him with trepidation. “You should bring him home sometime.”

“What… Really?”

“Of course. I have to see for myself if he’s good enough for my precious baby brother, don’t I?”

“Um…” Jimin sweats, mentally sending Jungkook an apology. “That’s not really necessary, right? I mean, we’re both in high school, and it’s not really serious — ”

“Nonsense, Jiminnie. I’ve known you all my life. You’re the type to love for a lifetime. I may as well get ready to walk you down the aisle.”

“Hyung!” Jimin whines. If only you knew, he thinks, of all the times I’ve loved and fallen out of it already.

“I want to meet him, this sweet boytoy of yours.”

“Boyfriend,” Jimin corrects, already despairing about how he’s going to bring this up to Jungkook. He really doesn’t want to owe him any more than he already does. “Only if you promise to be nice to him.”

Seokjin cocks his head with a winning smile. “When am I ever not nice?”

Seokjin has known Jimin for a lifetime, and it works both ways. Jimin knows that as nice as Seokjin can be, there are times when he isn’t, and those times are the scariest — scary enough to have given even Min Yoongi a run for his money in the past.

“I’m not bringing him home just for you to be mean to him,” Jimin warns.

“I’ll be nice if he is,” Seokjin says decisively. “If he’s as nice as you say he is, what is there to be worried about?”

And that’s the thing: Jimin can’t be sure anymore, if Jungkook is as nice as Jimin remembers him to be. They aren’t close these days — maybe they never had been — and even though Jungkook has been nothing but good to him, he doesn’t have the same obligation to be good to Seokjin.

“I’ll ask him,” Jimin says finally.

“If he says no, dump him.”

“… Hyung.”

“Hi,” Jimin starts shyly the next day as he gets into the front seat.

“Park Jimin-ssi,” Jungkook responds, leaning out the window to wave at Seokjin where he’s watching them leave with crossed arms. “Your brother doesn’t like me much.”

It’s not a question. “He’s just… stubborn. You didn't exactly leave a great first impression.” Jimin fidgets with his backpack strap as Jungkook pulls out of the driveway. “Listen, about Seokjin-hyung…”

“Let me guess,” Jungkook snorts. “He wants to meet me too.”

Jimin winces. “… Sorry.” But when he chances a glance out of the corner of his eyes, Jungkook isn’t frowning — he merely looks thoughtful. Still, Jimin is quick to assure him, “You don’t have to.”

“Nah. It’s no big deal. I’ll meet him.”

“Really, it’s fine, he’s being pushy, we’ve only started doing this and — ”

Jungkook gives him an exasperated look. “Jimin, seriously. I don’t mind. I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

Jungkook finishes a right turn before answering. “Not much. Just that you’ve got a lot of knights in shining armour who want to fight for your honour.”

Jimin flushes, playing with his sleeves in his lap. “It’s just Yoongi-hyung and Seokjin-hyung being overprotective…”

“Jung Hoseok also cornered me yesterday. Said something about how I needed to be careful with you.” The look Jungkook sends him this time can only be described as macabre. “If I didn't know better, I'd think he got a letter too.”

Jimin decidedly does not meet his gaze.

Jungkook pulls up rather harshly at a stop light. “Wait. Wait. He actually did.”

Jimin shuts his eyes and turns to drop his forehead against the window with a whimper.

“No fucking way,” Jungkook says, deadpan. “I have to compete with Jung Hoseok on top of everything? Who else is there?”

“No one. There’s no competition,” Jimin mumbles. “I’m already dating you, aren’t I?”

Jungkook doesn’t reply for a long moment. When he does, some of the tension has drained from his voice. “Yeah. That’s right.”

Jimin sulks, watching his breath fog up the glass. He draws a sad little heart on the window. “Sorry. I’ll tell him to leave you alone.”

“I can handle a little shovel talk. I’ve been through this before.”

He thinks back to Jungkook’s ex-girlfriend, and wonders how bad it had been — how many knights in shining armour she had. “But you shouldn’t have to, this time.”

“Yeah? And why not?”

“Because,” Jimin answers distractedly, as they pull up at the school parking lot, squinting at a familiar figure leaning up against the school entrance. It… It can’t be. Jimin forces his gaze away.

“Because?” Jungkook presses, taking the keys out of the ignition.

Jimin frowns at him in confusion. “Because this time, it’s not real.”

And he doesn’t expect the way Jungkook’s eyes widen — the way his jaw tenses and his gaze shifts away, posture closed off. The car feels suddenly all-too quiet, and Jimin feels the desperate urge to flee from its confines.

He squirms, wondering what he’d said wrong, because surely it’d been something. The tension is so thick, there’s no way he could be imagining it. “Jungkook?”

“… You know, you didn’t seem like it at first,” Jungkook starts, tone flat and loud in the silence. “But you’re actually a real heartbreaker, aren’t you, Park Jimin?”

“… What?”

“Nothing. We’re going to be late.” Jungkook gets out of the car, and Jimin follows suit, scrambling to catch up as Jungkook makes his way across the lot with long strides.

“Seriously,” Jimin chides, grabbing his sleeve to slow him. “What…” He falters, as the figure from before makes his way up to them, tall and lean, with a dimpled smile, and a bouquet of flowers in his grasp. That smile, Jimin thinks as he draws near, is uncomfortably familiar, and so is the spike that accompanies it in his heart rate.

It… can’t be.

Jungkook glances to Jimin and turns back to where Jimin has frozen. “Hurry up…” He takes note of the new presence then, and it’s a little like watching a nature documentary, the way his shoulders square as he takes him in — the way his tongue works at the inside of his cheek. “Who’re you?”

“Kim Namjoon,” Jimin’s third love says, holding out the flowers. They’re Jimin’s favourite, and he doesn’t know how Namjoon could have known — but then again, Namjoon has always just had a way of simply knowing things. “It’s good to see you, Jimin-ah.”

He pretends not to see the letter sitting in the folds of the bouquet. He pretends not to notice the incredulous stare Jungkook is sending him, and —

And — of course. If Jimin’s gaze were to drift down just a fraction, he’d notice the outline of his letter, sticking out of the pocket of Namjoon’s trousers. But, of course, he doesn’t. He pretends not to notice it. He refuses to notice it.

Namjoon rubs the back of his head abashedly. “I, uh, got your letter. Thought I’d give you my reply in person.”

This must be hell, Jimin thinks, because really, who is he even kidding? There’s no way Jimin can even pretend not to notice any of it.

Chapter Text

“I, uh, got your letter. Thought I’d give you my reply in person.”

And even the way he’s rubbing the back of his head is familiar, sending a pang straight through Jimin’s chest — one that might be described as longing. Wistful, for what might have been, if Namjoon had turned up on his doorstep with flowers in his arms and that dashing, winsome smile of his three years ago.

It isn’t three years ago, though. And while Jimin remembers what it had been like to love Namjoon, his heart has forgotten.

“I’m sorry, hyung. It’s good to see you too, but… I can’t accept this,” he tells him softly, when Namjoon proffers the bouquet.

But Namjoon is insistent. He urges the flowers into Jimin’s arms, until he has no choice but to wrap his arms around them.

Jimin gives the peonies a mournful sniff, studiously ignoring Jungkook’s glare.

“I’m not asking for much,” Namjoon says. “Just read my letter, okay? I read yours, so it’s only fair.”

“Namjoon-hyung — ”

“Please. Just read it, okay?” And he’s already backing away, wearing that dimpled grin of his that Jimin could never say no to. Jimin’s protests becomes lost in the growing distance between them. “I’ll be waiting for your reply!”

With that, he’s gone, long legs taking him across the lot until his back disappears behind a school bus. Jimin stares after him, heart thudding in his chest.

It could be so easy, he thinks, falling for Kim Namjoon again. If he’d just let himself.

But that wouldn’t be fair to Jungkook. They’re pretending, but even still, Jimin should wait, at least until the pretending is over with. After all, it would hurt him too, if Jungkook started seeing someone else while pretending with Jimin.

He tries not to think about why that is — why the thought of Jungkook being close with someone else — kissing them, holding them close the way he’s been holding Jimin — sends a painful lurch to his gut.

It’s been a mere handful of days, pretending with Jungkook, and already Jimin’s in way too deep.

“Don’t tell me you’re keeping that.”

Jimin blinks, shaken out of his thoughts by Jungkook’s voice. Jungkook is looking at him in a way Jimin can’t decipher, eyes glimmering with a peculiar light. It takes another moment for Jimin to register what he’s referring to, and he frowns back, affronted. “It would be rude to throw it away.”

Jungkook clenches his jaw. “What are people going to say if they know my boyfriend’s accepting flowers from other guys?”

“They’re just flowers,” Jimin insists as he heads into the school with Jungkook hot at his heels. “We can just pretend you gave them to me. You did promise you were going to.”

“… But then you said you changed your mind. How was I supposed to know you didn’t mean it?”

“You weren’t supposed to — look… there’s still a lot we don't know about each other, Jungkook-ah. We're still new to this. It’s fine.”

The set of Jungkook’s profile is stubborn. “I’ll bring you flowers tomorrow. They’ll be the best flowers you’ve ever seen, so get rid of these ones.”

“Jungkookie,” Jimin states sternly as he arrives at his locker. “I’m not throwing these away. He came all the way to bring them to me.”

Jungkook scowls, kicking at the locker next to his mulishly. “Hasn’t the guy ever heard of a text message?”

Jimin places the flowers carefully into his locker before turning to face him. His fake-boyfriend looks agitated, and Jimin knows this can’t be about other people seeing him take the flowers from Namjoon. No one had been around to watch him do it but him.

And it’s when Jungkook starts acting like this that a little of his old self shines through — the cracking of his façade that belies how young he truly is, how easy it would be to hurt him despite how strong he likes to appear.

Jimin leans in to give his pouting lips a peck. Then, as Jungkook blanches with surprise, Jimin takes the chance to link their fingers together and drag him down the hall.

Somehow, this seems to silence Jungkook, at least until they near Jimin’s classroom, where Jungkook finally snaps out of it and pulls him to a stop. “That’s not fair,” he grouses. “You did that to shut me up.”

“I did that to say ‘thank you’ for shutting up,” Jimin says innocently.

Apparently taking this as a challenge, Jungkook reels Jimin in for another kiss — longer this time. He also seems hell-bent on breaking all the rules Jimin had adamantly set that day in the courtyard.

Jimin pulls away first, breathless, glare full of reprimand and accompanied by a soft smack to the chest. “Ten seconds only, Kookie.”

“That was ten, if you round down.”

Another smack. “Jungkook!”

Jungkook grins, some of his previous ire having melted away in the face of Jimin’s kisses. He pats Jimin on the head, much to his growing irritation. “I’ll catch you later, Park Jimin-ssi.”

“… Get out of here, you punk.”

And it’s only as Jungkook’s taken off and Jimin’s settling down in his seat that he notices Taehyung pointing at his head with a deadpan expression.

Warily, Jimin pats at his hair, coming away with a sticky note that Jungkook had no doubt placed there under the guise of riling him up.

You know, you’re lucky you’re older than me, it reads. A crudely drawn heart punctuates the words.

Jimin makes a show of crumpling the note into his fist.

In hindsight, this is what he gets, for picking the most insufferable one out of all of his past love interests to be his pretend boyfriend.

That day, when Jimin gets into Jungkook’s car after school, clutching Namjoon’s bouquet close to his chest, he waits for the words of derision.

But Jungkook merely sets his lips in a frown as he sees them, but says nothing on the matter.

“Do you want to grab coffee or something before heading home?” Jimin asks tentatively.

Jungkook takes his time pulling out of the lot before replying. “As long as those can’t come.”

Jimin blinks, before bursting into surprised laughter. “Of course,” he says with mock-seriousness, leaning over to set the flowers on the backseat. “These guys will have to wait in the car.”

The sight of Jungkook’s answering grin sets his heart at ease.

When Jimin gets home that night, he sets the flowers in a vase, and — just for a while — he completely forgets about the letter he’d placed in his desk drawer, falling asleep to the memory of Jungkook’s crooked smile and the words on the note he’d received when he'd been dropped off at his doorstep.

Jungkook had handed it to him directly for once, slipping it right into his palm, no games or teasing involved, before bounding down the steps to his car, leaving Jimin to stare after his back.

You look so beautiful in white.

He knows this is pretend, but all the same, the teasing messages and the serious ones alike — Jimin is starting to think that, maybe, Jungkook hasn't been pretending in any of them.

That the notes may be the one real thing they have between them.

The thought is both warming and troubling.

Whichever it may be, though, Jimin might just start wearing white more often.

“So, we should probably start with our backstory,” Jungkook says the next day at lunch as Jimin settles in next to him at their usual spot in the courtyard.

“Huh?”

“I’m meeting your hyung and that Yoongi guy soon,” Jungkook reminds him. “So we need to set our story straight.”

“Oh! Oh, of course,” Jimin says hastily. “What did you have in mind?”

“Something believable. Like, we should tell him that you’ve been pining after me for ages, and after one momentous, sunny afternoon, you finally wore me out and I gave in — okay, okay, don’t look at me like that, I’m just kidding. Jeez.”

Jimin huffs. “Why is it more believable to have me chase after you?”

Jungkook arches a brow, and Jimin reddens, knowing what that look had been about.

“I didn’t chase after you. I wrote one letter, and that was it.”

“On page three, you said you joined choir to get to know me better.”

“I didn’t say that!” At least, Jimin doesn’t quite remember saying that. And he hadn’t joined choir because of Jungkook, no matter what his idiotic younger self had to say about it. “Besides, Yoongi-hyung would never believe it. He knows I don’t chase after boys.”

“Yeah, you just write letters, daydreaming about what would happen if you ever made a move — ”

“Jeon Jungkook,” Jimin begins dangerously.

“Okay, okay. Look, I’m just saying — the guy knows about your letters, right? So it makes more sense this way.”

“Or maybe,” Jimin grits out. “It’s more believable if you’re the one who’d been chasing after me until I finally gave in one momentous afternoon and kissed you to shut you up.”

“… You can be really damn stubborn, can’t you?”

Jimin doesn’t reply, merely conveying the obvious answer through his glare.

Jungkook sighs, leaning back on his arms and giving in. “Fine. We’ll do things your way.”

Jimin loosens up a fraction.

“We’ll tell him you were too dense to realise your feelings for me, so I had to do all the work.”

This earns him a light smack to the arm. “You don’t have to put it like that!”

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to.”

“Put it nicer. And don’t talk like this with Yoongi-hyung. He’s not like me, so if you’re even a little bit disrespectful, he’ll get mad.”

Jungkook casts him a look that can only be described as condescending. “You think I talk like this to other people?”

Jimin pauses as this settles in. “Great,” he grumbles. “So apparently I’m special.”

Jungkook grins and ruffles Jimin’s hair. “’Special’. That’s a cute way to put it.”

Jimin just glares. “You’d better not do that to him either, or you’ll lose that hand.”

“This Yoongi guy sounds like a piece of work.”

“He’s not… he’s not a bad guy,” Jimin backtracks, unsure of how to describe Yoongi-hyung to someone who’s never met him. “He can seem that way, but that’s only because he’s shy. He’s really good to the people he loves, and he can be kind of rough, but he cares a lot. And he’s so talented, Jungkook-ah. He’s a musician, and if you heard some of the songs he’s written — ”

“You know, it’s kind of hard to believe you aren’t still in love with him, when you talk like that.”

Jimin tenses up. “Talk like what?”

“Like what? I don’t know. Like he’s everything you’ve ever wanted,” Jungkook answers, glaring out at the courtyard. “Like you love him.”

“That’s because I do,” Jimin answers. And when Jungkook turns to him, wide-eyed, Jimin rectifies, “I do love him, because he’s important to me. But I don’t love him like that. It’s different.”

“It doesn’t sound different,” Jungkook disagrees.

“You don’t know what I sound like when I love someone like that.”

“I read your letter,” Jungkook reminds him, as if Jimin could ever forget. “And I’m telling you that’s how it sounded.”

“Why do you want me to be in love with him so badly? I told you I’m not. I don’t know how else to convince you.”

“… Guess I’ll see for myself when I meet him.”

Jimin opens his mouth to defend himself further, but then he shuts it, remembering that he has no reason to be bothered if Jungkook thinks he’s still in love with Yoongi. Really, he doesn’t understand why Jungkook seems to be bothered by it in the first place. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

Jungkook shrugs, like he’s letting the topic roll off his shoulders. “Alright. Then what do you want to talk about?”

“Anything. Tell me about you. About your team. What you like, what you don’t like.”

“Should I make a list?” Jungkook asks jokingly.

Jimin brightens at the suggestion. “Actually, that’s a good idea. It’ll be like homework for the both of us. I’ll make a list of things I’ve figured out about you, and you make one about me. Then we’ll go through our lists tomorrow and make sure we didn’t get anything wrong.”

Jimin had been talking so eagerly, that he hadn’t noticed the incredulous look Jungkook has been giving him.

“What?”

“… You’re giving me homework?”

Jimin wilts a little. “If you don’t want to do it this way, we don’t have to. We can just talk about it now, and — ”

“No, look,” Jungkook draws a hand over his face with a small laugh. “Really. It’s fine.”

“Like I said, you don’t have to — ”

“I’ll do it, alright? I just thought it was funny. I wanna know about you anyway, and writing it down will make it easier, so — ”

Jimin doesn’t know what possesses him to tackle Jungkook into a hug, but he does. Wrapping his arms around Jungkook still isn’t easy, but it isn’t by any means hard, not by now, after all the times Jungkook’s wrapped him in his. Besides, the way Jungkook’s arms come around his waist is comfortable, and settling into the embrace becomes easier by the second.

“Are you that happy about me doing your assignment?” Jungkook asks, resting his chin on his shoulder.

Jimin squeezes him a little tighter. “I’m happy that you want to get to know me. You’re so cute, Jeon Jungkookie.”

Jungkook is quiet for a moment longer. Then he draws back a little, meeting Jimin’s gaze with a cheeky grin and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes that has Jimin’s breath catching in his throat. “Hey. Wanna know what’s going first on my ‘Things that Park Jimin Likes’ list?”

“What?” Jimin asks.

A cackle is delivered before the punch-line. “’Jeon Jungkook’.”

“… You cocky brat,” he protests, shoving out of Jungkook’s hold.

“It’s true, though. Isn’t it?”

Jimin sniffs, turning to his forgotten lunch, refusing to let Jungkook catch him with the full force of those eyes once more. “It isn’t not true,” he allows, knowing it’ll get to Jungkook’s head anyways.

But Jungkook’s laugh seems lighter that day after his admission, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and Jimin figures that it’d been worth it.

He also figures that the first thing he should add to his list of ‘Things That Jeon Jungkook Likes’ should be: ‘being liked by Park Jimin’.

That evening, when Jimin opens the drawer of his desk, gazing down at the letter that sits amongst his stationary — the careless, artful scrawl that is Kim Namjoon’s handwriting — Jungkook’s smiling face comes to his mind, unbidden. It has him feeling strangely uneasy.

He resolves that he’ll tell Namjoon the truth — that he doesn’t feel the same way, not anymore.

That he can’t even let himself feel that way again for a while longer because… because, what?

Because he’s dating Jeon Jungkook?

No. Jimin should be honest with Namjoon, if no one else. Namjoon had brought him flowers and a letter, when no one had written him one before, and Jimin owes him that much.

But the truth is complicated. The truth isn’t something Jimin wants to think about, let alone write out in another letter.

The truth is, Jimin isn’t dating Jeon Jungkook, and Jimin isn’t in love with Kim Namjoon, and the truth is, Jimin has stopped writing letters.

Jimin shuts the drawer.

It can wait, he resolves. Namjoon and Jimin haven’t seen each other in years. A few days is a blink of an eye in comparison.

“Why is my ‘likes’ list so much shorter than my ‘dislikes’ list?” Jungkook asks, frowning at the sheet Jimin proudly holds up. They’re at a bowling alley — Jungkook’s idea and his insistence — and it’s quiet, despite it being a Saturday night.

“Well, maybe you should like more things, Jungkookie,” Jimin tells him patronizingly.

Jungkook scrunches up his nose as he reads on. “’Baths’? How do you know I like baths?”

“You’re always saying you like to be clean.”

“Everyone does,” Jungkook says.

“So am I wrong?”

Jungkook doesn’t bother protesting further, opting to pluck the list from his hands and dissect it further. “… I don’t hate it when people are slow.”

“You’re always rushing me and telling me to hurry up.”

“You’re always lagging behind. It’s a hassle to keep an eye on you. Especially when you’re so small — ”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I should’ve put, ‘when Park Jimin is slow’ on the list instead. And maybe I should even add that you dislike ‘Park Jimin’s height’ — ”

“Hey, I never said I didn’t like it.”

“… You like my height?”

“I don’t not like it,” Jungkook echoes with a grin. He pulls Jimin against him bodily, fitting his chest against his back in a way that Jimin has almost grown used to already. “Makes it easier to do this.”

Jimin doesn’t fight the hold, but he does sigh with resignation. “Brute.”

“You love it.”

“… Don’t tell me you actually have that on your list.”

Jungkook lets him go to pull his list out of his pocket, straightening out the crinkles victoriously. “A complete and accurate guide to Park Jimin’s do’s and don’ts.”

Jimin takes it from him to scrutinise. He turns the page over onto the back, finding the other side completely filled as well. Jungkook had done his homework, alright. Jimin should’ve expected nothing less from an overachiever. “I want to be proud you actually did what I asked, but 90% of this is about you.”

“No it isn’t.”

“’Likes,’” Jimin narrates. “’Jeon Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook’s body. Jeon Jungkook’s kisses. Jeon Jungkook’s backhugs.’”

“There’s more stuff on the back.”

Jimin flips it over to continue reading. “’Being complimented. Getting cheesy love notes. Having someone drive him around’… These things are still indirectly about you!”

Jungkook pouts. Pouts. The nerve of him. “I’ll make another list.”

“Nice try, but I don’t accept late assignments, Jeon Jungkookie.”

“It won’t be late if I make it now, right? You like bowling. And you like the colour yellow, because it’s the colour of the sun. You like the fries they sell here, you kept staring at it on the menu. You don’t like it when people look at you for too long, even when they only do it ‘cause you’re beautiful.”

Jimin’s face colours, and he looks away. “Okay, you can stop.”

Jungkook doesn’t listen. He rarely does. “You like being called beautiful, and you like listening to me talk about video games even if you don't play. You don’t like losing, especially to me when we’re bowling.”

“We’ve never been bowling before,” Jimin grumbles.

“Yeah, but you’re about to lose to me, so prepare yourself.”

“… Brat.”

“You like being treated special, and you like it when people take the time to get to know you,” Jungkook finishes. He grins then, soft and warm and ever so cheeky, and for a moment, Jimin wants to take his list from Jungkook and tear it up, until the remnants of the name Jeon Jungkook scrawled under his ‘likes’ column is indiscernable. He doesn’t want to like Jeon Jungkook. Not when liking him is so unfamiliar — when all Jimin had known was how to love him. “Bet I got a perfect score.”

He had. That’s the most infuriating, most heart-warming part. “I’m going to beat you in bowling,” is all Jimin says.

Jungkook taps his chin. “You weren’t wrong about anything either.” He says it, like he knows Jimin needs to hear it. Like he knows Jimin had spent hours sitting in his desk, wracking his brain about everything he knows about Jeon Jungkook and could only come up with a measly five items.

“You don’t think I can beat you?” Jimin asks, going to weigh a bowling ball in his hands. “Don’t underestimate your hyung, Jungkook-ah. Bowling’s one of my best sports.”

“It’s one of mine too,” Jungkook tells him. One of the many, no doubt. “Think you can beat the three-time bowling champion at his own game, Park Jimin-ssi?”

“And what kind of championship was that?”

“Children’s league,” Jungkook tells him shamelessly. “Won it three summers in a row at camp when I was a kid.”

Jimin gives a full-body laugh. It’s too cute, thinking of a tiny Jungkook, overly serious about a game of bowling that most children would find trivial. “I’m a little bit scared now.”

And in the dim lighting of the bowling alley, Jungkook’s features are hard to discern. But Jimin thinks they might look a little fond. Maybe sometime after this fake-dating thing is over, he’ll be able to confidently add ‘Park Jimin’ to that painfully short list he’d written for things Jungkook likes.

“Last chance to suck up. I might go easy on you,” Jungkook tells him, tapping a finger to his cheek. “If you give me a kiss.”

Jimin heads over and pecks him right there. Jungkook blinks rapidly, like he hadn’t expected Jimin to actually do it. “Go easy on me, Jeon Jungkookie,” he says sweetly.

Jungkook’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “I’ll think about it.”

Jimin laughs and goes to make his first throw.

They play three rounds. Jungkook wins two of them, but Jimin manages to beat him in one, and that’s enough of a victory for him.

“’Dislikes losing. Footnote: acts like a little baby when he does’,” Jimin declares, adding it to an invisible list with a flourish.

“It was once,” Jungkook grits out. “I beat you two times.”

“But I got the highest score,” Jimin says smugly. “Next time, maybe you should give me a kiss so I’ll go easy on you — ” He squeaks, cut off as Jungkook sends him bodily to the couch of the booth they’ve migrated to, laughing as Jungkook wrestles him down in an attempt to shut him up. “If you think this will make me stop talking about it — ”

“I won,” Jungkook says, glaring down at him, the fluorescent lights of the alley giving him a pink halo. “Admit it, Jimin.”

“Don’t be a sore loser, Kookie,” Jimin admonishes. But when Jungkook doesn’t appear to let up, he pats him on the chest and tells him, “Yes, yes. You’re still the reigning bowling champion. The best bowler in the world. Now let me up, okay?”

Jungkook snorts with amusement, finally letting him sit up but not moving away to give him any extra distance. “I should make you say it like you mean it.”

“Oh? And how would you do that?”

Jungkook casts him a long gaze, something that darkens the amicable atmosphere into something heavier. Something that has Jimin swallowing, loud and tight, until Jungkook looks away first.

He grabs the menu from the table, clearing his throat. “We should eat something before we head home.”

“Y… Yeah,” Jimin says weakly, taking a sip of water from his glass. “I’ll just take a — ”

“Coke and fries, right? I’ve got it. Anything else?” Jungkook says, already getting up to head to the counter.

"No," Jimin says weakly. "Get whatever you want."

As he goes, Jimin sinks a little in his seat. This is bad.

Jungkook is as amazing and all-consuming as Jimin remembers him being. He’s also a lot of things Jimin doesn’t remember him being, and that… that scares him a little, if Jimin were being honest.

Not because Jungkook scares him. And not because he doesn’t like the changes, per se. What really scares him is that Jimin thinks he’s actually beginning to like them, the differences and everything in between, and he knows how badly it’ll go down if his stupid heart starts to love those things in the chaos of all this pretend.

When Jungkook gets back with the food and drinks, he catches sight of Jimin’s expression and instantly stills. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?”

Jimin waves him off with a weak smile.

This is bad, he thinks. Actually, this is more than bad. Jungkook never used to pay attention to him the way he does now, and Jimin —

Jimin is starting to crave the attention again. Just like he used to.

Jungkook brushes Jimin’s bangs aside and lay the back of his hand to his forehead. “If you’re not feeling well, you don’t have to lie.”

“I’m fine,” Jimin insists, even though he’s sure he doesn’t look it. Jungkook being so… uncharacteristically gentle with him is not helping. “I just realised that I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

“What? Hurry up and eat then.” Jungkook shoves the fries closer to him. “The burgers are coming so you’ll have to wait.”

Jimin obediently takes one of the fries and nibbles on it, willing the heat to abide from his face.

Jungkook watches him eat intently. “You’re so slow.”

“See? You do dislike it when people are slow.”

“I dislike when Park Jimin’s are slow,” Jungkook corrects. “It’s like you’re asking to be fed.”

Jimin bats his eyes at him playfully. “Maybe I am.”

Jungkook gives him an indulgent look. “If you wanted me to feed you, you could just ask.”

“You’d make fun of me for asking,” Jimin points out. Then he opens his mouth, waiting. “Ah…?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes but deigns to feed him. Jimin chews happily.

“Anyway, I think we’re set for you meeting my hyungs. They won’t know what hit them.”

“You think so?” Jungkook asks, allowing the first signs of doubt to show on his face since he’d suggested this whole fake-dating scheme. “You’re still kind of awkward with me.”

“… No, I’m not.” The protest is weak to his own ears. He thinks it’s easier, when they’re alone. It’s more natural that way. But when they’re in front of others, Jimin can’t help but put up a front, alternating between brushing Jungkook’s touches away with embarrassment or going overboard with his affection.

Strangely enough, it's easier when they’re alone, so easy it feels like they’re really dating. Like they really are close.

“Well, I won’t be awkward in front of them,” Jimin tells him starchily.

Jungkook nods, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Jimin leans into him instinctively, taking a sip of his soda. “We'll be fine if you do what you’re doing now.”

“I’m not doing anything right now.”

“Exactly.”

Jimin taps his chest in admonishment. “That was an insult, wasn’t it?”

“I'm just saying you should act natural.”

Jimin nods. “I can do natural.” He bravely slips a hand into Jungkook’s hoodie pocket as proof, snuggling in a little closer. A server arrives with their food, and Jimin thanks them as the burgers are set down on the table.

“Just to be safe though, we should have a signal. Like a get out of jail card when things aren’t going well and I need to change my story.”

“… That’s a little excessive, isn’t it? This isn’t a movie, Jungkookie.”

“But think about it. He starts asking about the intimate details of our backstory, our facts don’t match, and he’s getting all suspicious and shit. But then you scratch your nose, I catch the signal and I realise I got something wrong and I correct myself. It’s an easy win from there.”

“… You’re treating this like a video game.”

“No, I’m treating this seriously. Just like you should be.”

“I am treating this seriously.” Jimin huffs. “Fine. I’ll scratch my nose when you say something wrong.”

“If I say something wrong. Which I won’t.”

“Okay,” Jimin says agreeably. “Sure.”

Jungkook grumbles under his breath but lets it go.

It’s then that Jimin realises he’s been playing with a piece of paper in his fingers, from where they’re still buried in Jungkook’s hoodie pocket. He pulls it out curiously.

What he’d thought had been an old receipt or a movie ticket, is actually a crumpled post-it note.

Jungkook tries to snatch it back the moment he notices, but Jimin is quick to shield it with his body. Quickly scanning its contents, he reads aloud, “’Do you still love me?’” He glances up at Jungkook with alarm, who gives up on grabbing it back from him with a glare.

“It wasn’t for you,” he says, voice taut and harsh.

Jimin presses it back into his hand with a small smile. “It was for Yuna, right? I’m sorry for reading it.”

Jungkook clenches it in his fist, so tight Jimin’s sure the creases outnumber the strokes of each word. Then he jams it back into his pocket and looks away.

Jimin reaches out, tentatively, hesitantly, to soothe the tension away from his shoulders with his hands. “I’m sorry.”

Jungkook slumps a little under his touch. “Don’t… Don’t be,” he says.

“Okay.” Jimin rubs at his arm. “Were you planning on giving it to her… before?”

Jungkook still won't meet his eyes. “That’s none of your business. Look, can you forget you read that?”

Jimin blinks, a little hurt, and more than a little confused. He puts some distance between them, unsure of what Jungkook wants, the sudden tension in the air. “Of course.”

“… Thanks.”

That isn’t how they’ve agreed to thank each other. But pretending he hadn’t noticed, Jimin tells him quietly, “No problem.”

Jungkook goes back to normal after that. But Jimin can’t help but think that Jungkook must be a great actor, after all. For a while, it had really seemed like he were fond of Jimin, if at least as a friend. It had seemed like the notes had been for him.

But as it turns out, Jimin is a still a boy who hasn’t grown up from his habits of naïve, wishful thinking. None of it is real. He needs to get that into his head already, or Jungkook won’t just be one of the many boys Jimin had loved — he’d be the first that Jimin had hopelessly loved again.

“This one's for you,” Jungkook had said that night, when he’d dropped Jimin off at his house. He’d reached into his back pocket, procuring one of those dreadful little fake-notes he’d written for Jimin but not for Jimin.

“Thank you,” Jimin says quietly.

“You’re not supposed to thank me.”

“I know,” Jimin replies, getting out of the car. “Goodnight, Jungkook.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply. With that, he shuts the door and heads inside.

He doesn’t want to read it. He doesn’t even want to look at it. But eventually, curiosity gets the better of him, and he takes a peek.

Your laugh takes my breath away.

Jimin throws it in the trash, and tries to feel angry. But all he feels is a sickening twist of his heart, and beyond that — nothing.

It’s dreadful, knowing that even the words had never been meant for him.

It’s hard, pretending things are normal the next day. He should’ve never let himself slip up for a moment and let himself think that this could be anything more than what it is — pretend.

It’s never felt as fake as it has, with their relationship placed under his hyung’s scrutiny.

“So,” Seokjin begins, leaning against the doorframe as Jungkook arrives that evening. “You’re the infamous Jeon Jungkook.”

Behind him, Jimin takes a steadying breath and tries not to put his face in his hands. “Hyung, please.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Jungkook says evenly. And for a painful moment, neither of them make a move. “… Can I come in, or?”

“I don’t know. Can you?” Seokjin retorts. It’s incredibly childish.

Jimin rolls his eyes and takes that moment to snag the hem of Seokjin’s sweater and tug him aside. He beckons at Jungkook to hurry in through the opening, despite the squawks of protest his hyung makes.

Jungkook ducks inside, and Jimin ushers him into the kitchen. “Please behave,” he mouths over his shoulder at Seokjin.

Seokjin pouts, but doesn’t protest. He even takes Jungkook’s jacket for him. Jimin counts that as a win.

It’s a rocky start. But eventually, they all get seated at the dinner table with the appearance of amicability. Jimin doesn’t lower his guard. He knows things can only go downhill from here.

“So,” Seokjin begins, as he’s cutting at his steak. “Jungkook.”

Jungkook places his fork down carefully and looks up. Jimin holds his breath, unable to stomach eating at the moment. “So…”

“So I hear you've — ”

“Do you want some juice? I think we have some fruit punch in the fridge!” Jimin exclaims.

“Uh,” Jungkook says, giving him a weird look that no doubt asks, what the hell happened to acting natural? “Sure.”

Jimin scampers out of the room. It might be cowardly, but — he needed to get out of there. He hadn’t been ready for this — every moment his heart pounds in his ears, marching to a terrified rhythm, fearful that his hyung has already seen through the scam. It’s illogical, and he knows that. There’s nothing they’ve done that would give them away, but the lies feel like an itch beneath his skin. He hates having to deceive Seokjin about anything.

He sticks his head in the fridge for a moment longer than necessary in an attempt to cool off. He’s already been gone for too long.

When he finally returns with the glass, Seokjin and Jungkook seem to be engaged in civil conversation.

“… and I just always thought I didn’t have a chance…” Jungkook pauses, acknowledging the juice being set in front of him. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Jimin says, voice still a little too airy to be considered normal.

Jungkook levels him another look. “And yeah. I thought I didn’t have a chance, but I decided to say 'fuck it' and just tell him. But then Jimin-hyung made the move first.”

“Huh?”

“We were talking about how you two got together,” Seokjin replies.

“Oh. Um. That's right.”

“Yeah. He just pushed me against a tree and kissed me,” Jungkook adds, lips curved with amusement. “It was kind of surprising.”

Seokjin looks stunned.

“It wasn’t — I just… Jungkook!” Jimin hisses.

But his hyung sounds strangely proud when he remarks, “I knew you took after me.”

“Oh,” Jimin says. The look of admiration on Seokjin’s face gives him a wave of confidence. He clears his throat. “It was just a spur of the moment thing. I guess I was tired of waiting for him to make a move, so I just… went for it myself.” The lie comes out more convincing than he’d thought it would. The way Jungkook’s brow twitches is just a bonus.

“I am so proud of you, Jiminnie,” Seokjin says, dabbing at his lips with a napkin before taking Jimin’s hand in his. To Jungkook, he tells him, “Jimin’s always been so shy about his feelings, keeping them locked up to himself because he never thought anyone would feel the same way. For him to do something like that… He must really like you.”

Uneasy, Jimin shifts in his seat.

“I guess so,” Jungkook says slowly.

“I like him the most,” Jimin admits, unable to meet Jungkook's look of surprise. “Out of all of the rest.”

Seokjin warms up to Jungkook after that; his questions less probing and his gaze softening from the stern-older-brother look he’d been giving him. Jungkook seems more at ease too, cracking a joke from time to time and even laughing once or twice.

It’s Jimin who remains subdued, unable to muster up more than a smile and an off-handed comment. He can’t help but think that the lie shouldn’t have come so naturally — a part of him wishes Seokjin would see right through them and put an end to it. Jimin is not a good actor, and he’s even worse at lying. This shouldn’t be working, but it is. It shouldn’t be easy, but it is.

Jungkook had been his favourite, all those years ago, the one he’d loved fiercer than the others, and Jimin hates to think that the words hadn't been a lie — that Jungkook might still be the one he likes the most — because he can't be. Jimin can't get caught in that rut of heartache all over again. He won't. Jimin's had enough of one-sided love stories.

Hello, hyung. 

He quickly scratches the words out. Too casual.

Dear Namjoon-hyung, he begins again. His pen hovers above the page, wrought with hesitation.

I’m sorry. These words are scratched away, just as quickly.

Jimin bites his lip, gathering his nerves and shoving all thoughts of any Jeon Jungkook out of his mind. Namjoon deserves an explanation, he resolves. The letter he’d written had been sweet — maybe more than Jimin deserved — and the words had touched him in a way that was incredibly reminiscent of the way Namjoon used to make him feel all the time; giddy and euphoric.

Past-him would have been over the moon at receiving a letter like this. Present-him isn’t so far off that he’s become impassive. 

Jimin brings his pen back to the paper.

Dear Namjoonie-hyung,

Thank you for the letter. I didn’t think you’d remember me after all these years, and I’m sorry that it took me so long to come up with a reply. I have treasured every word you’ve written, and I wonder how even after all this time you still know me so well. You’re as eloquent as ever, hyung. But the years have changed a lot of things for me, and I’m kind of in a weird place. Truthfully, I don’t think I can give you a proper answer right now. There's a lot I need to tell you first, and I don’t think I should do it here.

Hyung, did you know? This is my first time receiving a letter back. My hands are trembling as I write this. A younger me used to dream about receiving one almost everyday. I hope I can thank you sincerely in person. Would you like to meet up sometime? Writing letters isn’t really my thing anymore, and I think my writing skills have become rusty. 

Yours truly,

Park Jimin