Work Text:
Jimin's so fucking late.
He should've been at work twenty minutes ago, but a certain Jeon Jeongguk left his assignment back at the dorms (“Jimin-hyung, please, I'll do anything, I'll call you hyung for a whole day- No, wait, a whole week! I'll fail this class if I don't hand in the assignment in the next ten minutes.”) and so Jimin was forced to drive all the way to campus to drop in Jeongguk's assignment at 7 in the morning dressed in his pyjamas.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jimin mumbles under his breath, shoving one leg into his trousers. “Seokjin-hyung's going to be so pissed.”
“Don't worry too much,” Taehyung yawns, running a hand through his sleep mussed hair. “Jin-hyung is really nice.”
“Yeah, he is,” Jimin agrees, hopping around on one leg as he attempts to push his other leg in. “But not when you've been consistently late to work for one week, leaving him to fend for himself against grumpy, sleep-deprived businessmen and college students craving coffee at an ungodly hour in the morning.”
“Breathe, Minnie. Just text him or something,” Taehyung says, watching amusedly through bleary eyes as his best friend lets out a whoop of joy after successfully putting on a pair of pants.
Jimin fumbles around for his phone, unbuttoned shirt hanging loose on his body. He unlocks his phone with one hand while the other tries to button up his shirt, clumsy fingers missing the holes.
God, he feels terrible. He's always late to the café, and he knows that it's hard for Seokjin-hyung to manage everything on his own since the business is new and he's low on employees. Hopefully, Seokjin-hyung will see the message before Jimin gets there.
With the hand on his phone, he opens up Seokjin's contact and starts typing a message, cursing how big his phone screen is for his singular hand. Doesn't help that he's typing with his left one either. Tae's so lucky he's ambidextrous, Jimin thinks frustratedly. He sucks at one-hand texting.
To Seokjin hyung ^3^ : soikjim ,huyng sorry im runminglate had ti dropp kooks assigment amd
A pair of hands gently pry Jimin's hand away from his shirt, replacing it with hands bigger and tanner than his own. Jimin stops typing. And functioning, in general.
“Text him,” Taehyung repeats, softly. Jimin freezes, eyes fixated on how Taehyung's nimble fingers close around his shirt.
Taehyung is… Taehyung is buttoning his shirt for him. Buttoning Jimin's shirt for him and he's standing so close, too close, and Jimin's breath hitches in his throat as he takes in the proximity of his best friend. His best friend, who's helping him out with buttoning his shirt, because he's a good friend, who's doing a good friendly act of friendship. They're friends. This is friendship.
(He prays Taehyung can't hear how loud his heart's beating.)
The taller man hums questioningly, nudging his head towards the phone in Jimin's hand as if to say 'go on.' That might snap into two at any given second by how tightly Jimin's gripping it.
As if zapped, Jimin tears his eyes away from Taehyung's face (which is far too beautiful for someone who woke up less than fifteen minutes ago, and how does he smell so good? It must be that cheap strawberry shampoo of his, that Jimin's told him not to use because it has way too many chemicals in it and it's going to ruin his hair — but he doesn't listen and okay, we're getting sidetracked here, get on with the texting, for God's sake.) and focuses on his phone instead.
With both hands now, Jimin crafts a much more coherent message to Seokjin, all while willing himself to not think about how Taehyung's standing near enough for him to count all the little moles on his face and every strand of his hair that's out of place.
A whoosh from his phone signals the message being sent, just as Taehyung finishes buttoning the bottom last button of his shirt, and lets out an adorable little 'aha!' as he runs a hand along Jimin's shirt to smooth the creases down.
The younger boy takes a step backward to smile proudly at his work, and Jimin feels like he can breathe again.
“Thank you,” Jimin musters out, nervously pocketing his phone as he reaches for his backpack.
“No problem,” Taehyung chirps.
“I'll — I'll get going then.” Jimin slides his feet into his shoes and moves towards the door.
“Jimin,” Taehyung calls, making the man in question turn around curiously.
“Your wallet.” He throws it to Jimin who catches it, impressively.
“How would I manage without you?” Jimin jokingly asks, putting his wallet in the front pocket of his bag.
“You wouldn't,” Taehyung answers, teasing lilt to his voice.
Jimin scrunches up his nose at Taehyung who sings out a little drawn out ”bye~” and then hurries out the door, ready to sprint all the way to the parking lot to get to his car. He reaches for his car keys in his pocket and—
Ah, shit.
He speedily turns back around on his heel and raises his hand to knock on the door, but it opens before his hand could make contact with the wood.
Taehyung stands in all his bedhead glory, holding Jimin's keys in his hand with an amused grin on his face. “Missing something?”
“Thank you, Taehyungie,” Jimin flushes pink, smiling back in embarrassment.
“Have a nice day at work, Jiminie.” Taehyung leans against the doorframe, waving away the mess of a boy in front of him.
Jimin shoots a last sheepish smile at Taehyung, and then runs off, not before tripping ever so gracefully over his untied shoelaces.
Taehyung is beyond fond.
_______________
It's not uncommon for Jimin's things to wind up in Taehyung's bag and viceversa, since they share most of their classes together and end up shoving their books and stationary into each other's bags in a hurry. Jimin's looking through Taehyung's bag for his new fancy a-few-hundred-won-too-expensive sharpener (Yes, he's a stationery hoe. And what about it?) that he has a sneaking suspicious Namjoon stole (He knew he'd seen that fucker eyeing his sharpener) when he stumbles upon the little orange bottle sitting snug in between two textbooks.
“Hey, what's this?” Jimin shakes the small bottle of pills, looking curiously at Taehyung.
Taehyung spares a glance towards him before he goes back to intently staring at the console screen. “Oh, that's your medicine, in case your allergies act up.”
Oh.
He said it so casually, Jimin thinks.
“You —” Jimin starts, voice failing him, and chest suddenly feeling tight. “Seriously?”
Taehyung hums in confirmation.
“There's no — there's no need to, you know that, right? The last time I got an allergic reaction was two years ago.”
“Yeah,” Taehyung replies, still distracted, fingers repeatedly punching the game controller aggressively, “But just in case. Better safe than sorry, right?”
“Right,” Jimin says, voice too quiet to be heard.
Jimin doesn't even.. Jimin doesn't even carry those pills with himself. The last time he bought them was so long ago that he can't even remember where they were now, probably collecting dust in the corner of a drawer somewhere.
Maybe he's making this a bigger deal than it is. Maybe he's just a bit tired and a bit emotional so he's looking too much into it. But it's a bit throwing, to say the least, to think that someone cares about him enough to carry around a bottle of his medicines everywhere.
But he's always been like that, it seems. Taehyung cares so quietly, you'll miss it if you blink for a second. Taehyung cares so consistently, that you won't realize because you're so used to being loved and cared by him.
The older walks over to the couch where Taehyung is sitting, and plops down beside him. He waches as the younger mutters agitatedly under his breath over whatever video game he's so engrossed in. Jimin snuggles himself against Taehyung's arm.
“Do you really carry those everywhere with you?” Jimin asks, voice a little softer than usual. His eyes wander over Taehyung's sincere face as he turns his neck to face Jimin.
“Of course.” Taehyung answers affirmatively, eyebrows furrowing as if confused over why Jimin would even bother asking him, “Why wouldn't I?”
Warmth blooms all over Jimin, as he burrows his face into Taehyung's neck, hiding his lovesick smile. He's never going to find anyone like him, is he?
“You're the absolute best, Taehyungie,” Jimin's voice comes muffled, happiness seeping through.
“No, that's you, Jiminie,” Taehyung replies without missing a beat, dopey smile on his face as he looks down at Jimin snuggled under his shoulder with a fondness in his eyes that's just a touch too sweet to be platonic.
It's a shame Jimin doesn't see it.
________________
A drunk Kim Taehyung is a dangerous Kim Taehyung.
No, not because he gets violent or anything of that sort or because he ends up getting himself arrested by the end of the night because he tries to jailbreak crabs from the supermarket aquarium (Two words — Kim Namjoon.)
No, Drunk Kim Taehyung is dangerous because with every drink he downs, he becomes increasingly whinier, and poutier, and clingier, and a thousand times more physically affectionate (and that's a lot, considering how affectionate Sober Kim Taehyung is) and Jimin is but a weak man, whose heart is not equipped to seeing his best friend (whom he's very much in love with, in case you haven't caught on yet) turn into a baby in his arms while he babbles on about something that Jimin can't even begin to decipher.
So when Taehyung says, “Kiss me, please, Jiminie,” all while pouting, head lolling to one side, in that endearingly whiney tone of his, it's only understandable that Jimin's inequipped heart does backflips in his chest and his hands freeze from where they were tucking the blanket under Taehyung's chin.
Taehyung's staring up at him with big, pleading eyes, and flushed cheeks, and Jimin's not sure he can handle this, handle him. It's unfair how endearing Drunk Kim Taehyung is.
He wills himself to tear his gaze away from him (away from his dumb, kissable pink lips) and resumes covering Taehyung with the blanket. Yes, his breath got caught in his throat, and his heart may have skipped a beat or two, but it doesn't matter. Taehyung is drunk.
Of course, later, Jimin will spend hours thinking about those words. But for now, he pushes them to the back of his mind because Jimin is a good person first and irrevocably and painfully in love with Kim Taehyung second, and he would never take advantage of him like that.
“You're drunk, Tae.” Jimin smiles weakly, pointedly not meeting his drunk friend's eyes as the latter makes grabby hands at him. He doesn't mean it. Taehyung's said stupider shit while drunk. This doesn't mean anything.
“No, I'm not.” Taehyung frowns, stupidly cute. “I'm very supper.”
“Very supper, indeed.” Jimin nods in agreement, though the corners of his lips tug up in amusement.
“Okay. Now kiss me.” And there he goes again, making Jimin's heart clench, and God, does Jimin wish he was as sober – supper, as he's trying to make Jimin believe he is.
“Oh, Tae.” Jimin breathes out a fond laugh, staring up at the ceiling as he deliberately tries not to let hope foster within himself. He's drunk, he's drunk, he's drunk, he doesn't mean it.
“How about this,” Jimin offers, running a hand through Taehyung's hair. “Ask me tomorrow. I'll kiss you tomorrow, I promise.” The younger melts under Jimin's touch, eyes drooping low. He's a kitten, is what he is. Jimin's kitten.
“Okay, I will. I'll ask you tomorrow, Jiminie,” Taehyung hiccups his own promise, incohorent mumblings slowly dying out as his eyes flutter close, breaths becoming even.
It's a bit concerning, Jimin muses in the back of his mind, how quickly Taehyung falls asleep when someone caresses his hair. (If Taehyung were awake, he'd say, “Not someone. Only you.”)
“Good night, Taehyungie,” he whispers against the younger's soft hair and switches the bedside lamp off.
Taehyung didn't ask the next day.
___________
Today has got to be part of Jimin's top five worst days, like, ever.
He didn't get any sleep last night because he was up studying, gave his absolutely horrendous test on an empty stomach because there wasn't time for breakfast, and then tripped over a lamp post on his way to work and landed on his left arm, causing a nasty bruise to form.
Work, he thought, would be a good distraction to his otherwise foul mood, and also to his hungry stomach and the dull pain in his arm. The bustling of the café around lunchtime, the whirring of the coffee machines, and the chatter of the customers drowning him in. He'd hopefully see and chat with a few of his favourite regulars, maybe that'd sweeten him up a little.
But the world really did have it out for him, because the very first customer that he served spit out the coffee he served her, and started screaming about how it tasted 'worse than anything she's ever had in her life,' while Jimin stood there and tried not to break down under how the entire café now had their eyes on him.
And it's not that Jimin hadn't dealt with his fair share of rude customers, it's to be expected in his line of work. But he hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours, his arm hurt, he's hungry, and he's so, so, tired.
Seokjin intervened before the matter could escalate, voice calm and muttering forced apologies to the woman. But one look at Jimin who was biting his cheek to hold back tears, and seemed to be clutching his bruised arm, and he sent the younger man home with a bag of warm doughnuts, and a warmer hug.
And so Jimin finds himself opening the door of his dorm with shaky hands and his head bent low, dumping his bag onto the floor. Taehyung smiles upon hearing the click of the door close and the rustling of his best friend entering the room.
“Hey, Jiminie, you're back early!“ He says cheerfully, not looking up from where he was putting books into his bag, seemingly getting ready for something.
“I'm just heading out to meet Jeonggukkie in the libra—”
Taehyung's voice comes to an abrupt stop as he catches sight of Jimin's face.
“Oh, my baby,” Taehyung drops his books onto his bed along with the rest of his things, rushing forward to enclose the boy in his arms.
“What happened?” Taehyung asks gently, pulling back to look into Jimin's eyes which glistened with unshed tears.
Jimin opened his mouth as if to answer, but his voice got choked up as a sob escaped his lips instead. Taehyung's heart broke as he pulled him in once again, rubbing slow circles onto his back in an effort to comfort him.
Taehyung rocks Jimin back and forth slightly, trying to calm him down. He's shaking, Taehyung notices, panic settling in the bottom of his stomach.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Taehyung needs to know that Jimin's physically alright.
“I —” Jimin starts, face crumpling up. “I'm okay. I'm not hurt.” Taehyung breathes out, slightly relieved. “Well, only a little. It's nothing serious, just— just a bruise on my arm.”
“What?” Taehyung asks hurriedly, worry evident in his voice. “Do you need a cream for it? A spray?”
“No. No, I'll be alright.”
“What happened?” Taehyung asks again, still holding Jimin in his arms, who's no longer shaking, for one.
“I-I tripped on my way to work and it hurt so much, but I had to go to work and, and then this woman started shouting at me because I messed up her order, and then Seokjin-hyung sent me home and I failed my test in the morning too, and I hadn't eaten and I haven't slept and—” Jimin said, words tumbling out like a gushing stream, before he stopped and broke down into sobs again.
“It's okay,” Taehyung said in the most soothing voice he could muster, cupping Jimin's warm face in his hands. “You're okay. It's okay. Are you still hungry?”
Jimin shook his head lightly, “Seokjin-hyung gave me doughnuts.”
“Good, good,” Taehyung murmured. “Let's get you to bed, yeah?” He slowly maneuvered his friend into his bed, who sniffled as his silent cries died down.
Taehyung pets Jimin's blond hair comfortingly, which is fanned across his head like the halo of an angel. Taehyung thinks he looks as beautiful as one. Runny nose, bloodshot eyes, and all.
“I'm sorry. You said you had to go meet Jeongguk. You should go,” Jimin worried his bottom lip, feeling guilty for having kept Taehyung with him.
“Oh no, don't worry about that. I don't even like Jeongguk all that much,” Taehyung said jokingly, eliciting a little giggle from the older boy. He's so sweet, Jimin thinks faintly. He's always so, so sweet.
Taehyung smiles at him, thumbs wiping away the remnant of tears left on Jimin's cheeks.
Jimin feels too much like a child, suddenly. Having a breakdown over someone yelling at him. Having his best friend calm him down and putting him to bed. It's embarassing, and he averts his gaze from Taehyung's eyes.
Unfortunately (fortunately), Taehyung knows him too well. “It's alright to let it out, baby. Don't feel embarassed.”
He has a habit of saying that when he's trying to calm someone down. Jimin's noticed because it isn't the first time he's called him baby. That doesn't stop his cheeks from heating up upon hearing the term of endearment, though, as empty as it may be.
“Thank you, Taehyungie.” Jimin whispers, gratitude thick in his voice.
Taehyung clasps his hand in his own, squeezing it ever so lightly. “Don't have to say that to me, Jiminie.”
______________
The door of the dorm opens with a loud thud, and a whirlwind in the form of Kim Taehyung enters, eyes bright and cheeks flushed red.
“Jimin! Jimin, Jimin, Jimin,” Taehyung rushes out, voice excited, looking as though he might start jumping up and down at any moment.
Jimin looks up curiously, a little confused by Taehyung's excitement.
The younger man sweeps Jimin up into a bone-crushing hug before he can say anything, squealing euphorically. Jimin startles, but hugs him back, though he's still confused.
“I'm so happy, I'm so happy,” Taehyung gushes, in that high-pitched voice of his that he adopts whenever he's excited.
“What is it?” Jimin asks, Taehyung's contagious happiness seeping into his voice. He's smiling too, even though he doesn't know why yet.
“My painting got chosen to be in the end of the year exhibition!” Taehyung all but yells into his ear, the biggest grin adorning his face.
Taehyung picks Jimin up in a spur of adrenaline and twirls him into the air, and Jimin laughs loudly, hands reaching to grip Taehyung's shoulders tightly. “I told you! I told you, I knew you'd get chosen—”
Taehyung presses his lips to Jimin's. “I know! I know, you told me, you're the best, you're the best, Jiminie.” He laughs, oblivious to what he just did.
No wonder Taehyung's over the moon, he's been talking about how much he—
Wait.
Jimin's mouth drops open.
Did that—
Did that just happen?
Did that really just happen?
What the fuck. Did Taehyung just kiss him? Did Taehyung just actually kiss him? Or did he imagine the press of soft lips against his, lighter than feathers?
Jimin looks down at Taehyung, who meets his gaze from where he's holding Jimin's waist, big smile fading into an expression of confusion as he wonders why Jimin isn't smiling or laughing anymore—
Wait.
Fuck.
Fuck.
He didn't. He couldn't have. It had to have been a mistake. He couldn't have been so careless. He couldn't have.
But the shell shocked expression on his best friend's face says otherwise, and Taehyung puts him down instantly, and takes a step back from him, hands detaching themselves from his body as if burnt.
“Shit — Jimin, I'm — I'm so sorry, I don't know what I was — I'm so sorry.” Nervous words bubble out of him, fearful eyes not meeting Jimin's own.
Jimin stares at him, expression blank.
“Jiminie?” Taehyung's voice is scared, small. “Please say something, I'm sor–”
“Did you mean it?” Jimin asks quietly, voice shaking just the tiniest bit. He needs to know, needs to know that this wasn't just a spur of the moment thing, something driven by adrenaline and a need for an outlet for his joy. He needs to know that he meant it.
“I – What?” Taehyung says, bemused.
“I said, did you mean it?” Jimin repeats, harsher this time. Taehyung flinches at the tone, willing himself to not cower. But Jimin needs to know.
“I.. I –” Taehyung stutters, gulping down visibly. He's afraid, Jimin notes a little hurtfully. Why?
“Please,” Jimin pleads, frustration seeping into his voice. “Did you mean it? Answer me, Kim Taehyung, or I swear to God, I'll– I'll–”
What's there to lose? Taehyung thinks. I've already done it.
“If I say yes,” Taehyung lowers his gaze down to Jimin's shoes. “Would you hate me?”
Has anyone ever died of a heart attack while confessing to the person they love? Jimin thinks he might be the first.
“If you say yes,” Jimin takes a step foward. “I'll have to kiss you again.”
Taehyung's head snaps up in shock, looking at Jimin with wide eyes. There's no way he heard that right.
“Just, give me an answer, please,” Jimin's voice comes out pained. “I've got too much to lose.”
Everything, actually. He's got everything to lose. Taehyung is everything.
“And you think I don't?” Taehyung replies, bittersweet. He takes a step towards Jimin, heartbeat ringing in his ears.
Oh, Jimin thinks. Oh. He's been so stupid. So, so stupid.
“Why didn't you say something?” Jimin reaches forward to cup Taehyung's face in his hands.
“Why didn't you?” Taehyung countered, softly, a look of realisation dawning on his face.
“I was so scared.” Jimin inches closer, till they're only a millimeter apart. “I was so afraid I'd lose you.”
“You could never.” Taehyung smiles, a little emotionally, as he moves forward and closes the remaining distance in between them.
Jimin moves his lips against Taehyung's. Slowly, because they do have all the time in the world. It's a bit difficult to kiss properly, though, when they're both smiling so big (Taehyung's crying a little too, but he'll deny it if asked).
Taehyung wraps his arms around Jimin's waist and pulls him closer, bumping their noses together. Jimin giggles a little, and moves to recapture Taehyung's lips against his.
Strawberries, Jimin muses, Taehyung's lips taste like strawberries. It's probably that cheap strawberry chapstick of his that Jimin's told him not to use because it dries out his lips, but just like with the shampoo, he doesn't listen.
Jimin lets his hands slowly travel up and entangle themselves into Taehyung's hair, who hums into the kiss upon the contact.
Kissing Kim Taehyung, Jimin decides, is somehow perfectly like what he'd imagined, but at the the same time, it's so much better. It's familiar, as if he's been doing this all his life, but it's also entirely foreign.
“It's a bit soon to say this, I think,” Taehyung gasps in between kisses, “Since we just kissed and all,” he continues, “but I love you, Jiminie.”
“I think it's a bit late actually,” Jimin smiles, resting his forehead against Taehyung's. “But I love you too, Taehyungie.”