Archive of Our Own

jimin is a prefect. the loveliest class president. the ideal prototype of the slytherin division. the perfect student. a good boy.

and yet somehow he's not that loved: it shows in his wings.

“but i don't love myself,” jimin murmurs, touching the frown etched on his face in the mirror. it's a clear, bright sunday morning, his hair sticking out in odd ends as he shuffles towards the bathroom in his yellow chimmy slippers and chick print pajamas. this can't be real. “t-then how? who would?” in confusion, he runs in to his brother and namjoon's room next door, timidly shaking seokjin hyung awake. “hyungie? good morning, sorry for waking you,” he bows politely, “but did you and namjoonie hyung suddenly love jiminnie a lot yesterday?”

“... what?” well. they made love, but what does that have to do with jimin?

he does a perfect twirl, “i don't know what happened, hyung- my wings grew so much this morning, so i figured it must be you or namjoonie.”

it's only 7:30am in the morning, and everyone (other than a prim and proper jimin, who must wake up on time to complete his personal set tasks for the day) is still sleepy, hitting snooze to sleep in with cuddles on the weekend.

“our jiminnie has an admirer! there's someone that loves you!” namjoon beams, sitting upright. "did you maybe meet someone recently that might be interested in you?"

"jimin-ah, it's too early, but i agree," seokjin rolls over, stretching out his arms and wings, "some wings take longer to grow- and since my cute brother is a late bloomer, maybe someone from about a month ago or so?"

jimin pauses to think, still holding his toothpaste and mug. "no, i can't think of anyone that would like me, hyung... why would they?"

the feathers of jimin’s wings fall as he walks around in angel school, and with every person he meets with his heart sinks. who could it be? he's not good looking, not very loud or high profiled per se; he's not very good at making many many friends like taehyung or hoseok hyung either. he’s so confused, looking at everyone that he makes eye contact with in confusion, flustered. he leaves behind a trail of fallen feathers for the next whole week, his insecurities outweighing his crush’s love.

during one of the summer camps, jimin is in charge of lights out, being known to be a disciplined and obedient angel. he makes sure to say good night to everyone before sleeping, even walking all the way to the last room at the end of the hallway to turn off the lights for the other angels, regardless of age and to say good night. of course, if he chances upon a friend (just say taehyung) he'll tuck them in as well.

since he's a prefect and the teachers are aware he's a night owl and good with deadlines, it's the perfect role to assign. he goes in to each room to turn the lights off, starting at midnight.

“jimin ssi? h-hyung?” a small voice squeaks, as jimin reaches the last room, “you didn't say goodnight to me…”

“so it's you, jeongguk-ah. the bright light under your blankets tells me you're still using your phone...”

it never fails to make jeongguk's heart jump, the way jimin pays attention and conscientiously remembers every name, even if their interactions are minimal. while it is true that they have name tags embroidered onto the uniforms and cloaks, it still takes massive effort and meticulousness to attempt to remember every single face; jimin's voice is mellow and mellifluous- like candy that melts in your mouth. like watching the pastel floss accumulate in pretty pinks or blues into a floofy stick of fairy floss. his heart thuds along with every step jimin takes in his loafers, striding towards his bed.

badump badump badump.

he can feel gentle fingers thread themselves into his slightly damp, tangled hair from the late bath he'd taken just minutes ago. the other hand nimbly locks the screen proclaiming the kissing scene of his webtoon. “i thought i'd come back in twenty minutes to check, and then issue a warning if required- but since you asked so cutely, good night, jeonggukie.” jimin's eyes twinkle like little stars in the vast darkness. jeongguk feels like they could be two little independent galaxies on their own if they wanted to be.

“g-good night-!” he swears he hears a small giggle when he whines under jimin's touch, can still remember the sweet smile as the light fades out and the door clicks shut. perhaps he sees that smile in his dreams, even. yearns to see it again.

that night his heart turned a blush pink for jimin.

(jimin doesn't tell him that because of his new hair colour- due to a dare- he'd secretly nicknamed him cherry koo . who wouldn't recognise that mop of bright red? and that cute smile, of course.)

according to the news bulletin board, slytherin angel park jimin had reportedly dropped his toothbrush, too shocked to find out he had grown larger wings. according to the detailed write-up, jimin had woken up on a sunday to find his back muscles sore, and hence dropping said toothbrush.

it's taken up some space and in the student announcement bulletin board, for people to broadcast their club’s exhibitions or concerts, a rundown of the semester’s events- all managed and approved by the board of angels in the student council.

in summary, the little handwritten advert pasted by jimin had the basic tagline of “if anybody knows who made my wings grow so much, please wing me at: xxx-xx”. the attention to the notice, on the other hand, causing people that adored him to swoon, was the small disclaimer stating he won't tolerate fake calls, but if the correct person is identified, they get to pet his cat as a reward. his calico cat is called curry, a baby stray he had taken in temporarily, and he attaches a small photo of her at the corner, to prove that it's an attractive reward because curry is jimin's baby.

jimin doesn't quite understand that if his own hatred from himself outweighs the love he receives from outside, his wings will of course never grow; they'll remain the cherubic cupid-like size, or shrink even smaller as the feathers fall. he can't see his own beauty just yet; and he has yet to know that there’ll be a boy who loves him, who would then paint his wings in a fluorescent glow in the dark hue, just to tell him he lights up his life.

unlike schools in the mortal world, schools where angels resided tended to have larger outdoor locations, and many roofless classrooms. instead of tables and chairs, every angel attending class is expected to sit in a half a glass sphere, like a snow globe cut into two. it could be used as a chair with cushions at the concave area as a backrest, or even as a little bowl to sit in. creativity was highly appreciated and recommended, since students had varied styles and widths of wings- half a glass sphere could do wonders for resting as well as paying attention and not disrupting class.

students like seokjin, who had a full wingspan of half the class, highly appreciated the little snow globes they were given as seats.

just like hair, wings could be shaved off- like going bald, or cut of like a trim if too heavy. they would grow back, and could be dyed and decorated and styled. clothes were produced in the angel world with optional flaps or two holes for the wings to expand and retract into, just like ripped jeans torn at the kneecaps for the humans. to guise the holes, their uniforms came with cloaks embroidered with their names to keep their wings warm and out of sight, particularly the flashier and holographic wings. the cloak colours were assigned according to their divisions- gryffindor, hufflepuff, ravenclaw and slytherin respectively, in a house system in order to spur productivity and conducive growth. flying in school is acceptable, but speed cameras were set up to prevent delinquency or havoc raised- walking on feet were still the most practical option, although in emergencies, busting a wing was allowed.

jeongguk doesn't quite see jimin again after that one summer night. he's consistently moping about it, and asking about jimin just to get to know more about him. is it weird to feel sad about not seeing him again despite only meeting once?

“they used to call him gymin ssi for the matter since he always went to the gym when frustrated, or upset with himself.”

“wha- not to say that he's not strong now, but a fitness freak-!” jeongguk's shocked. it turns out jimin still is very hard on himself all this while.

“yeah, he used to be like you, gguk. year 2114 jimin would definitely be bullying year 2118 jimin, he's such a softie now. look at him-”

“you should've seen his angelgram- i think it's been deleted, maybe the cloud still has it- but damn, those chocolate abs!”

the more he asks around, the sadder he becomes, as his brain thinks of jimin in his oversized cloak with inner dark green lining, his little green tie. his cute reading glasses. jimin's so small compared to him, and so cute, like a little fairy. and when he laughs jeongguk swears he sees gold pixie and fairy dust poof around him. wait. fairy? and that's when the nickname finds its way as an epiphany into his head.

tinkerbell hyung.

umbrellas are often redundant in the angel world- wings could do just fine as the innate reflex to cover their heads from the rain. seokjin, having the largest golden wings in the school, does a good job of shielding his brother (jimin), himself (wingwide handsome) and his boyfriend (namjoon) when they walk home.

his crush solidifies ten billion fold when he sees jimin run over to hug namjoon, spotting the latter buying him his favourite coffee, right after a week of thinking and dreaming and drawing him. he sees jimin run over with giggles spilling from his sweet lips, the cutest thing he's seen in forever. jimin runs as if there are tiny angel wings on his shoes, with the automatic squeaky sound effects. it's so cute that he unwittingly finds himself just staring, mouth wide open. and of course, subsequently blushing when jimin spots him staring stupidly and waves at him with a shy smile. jeongguk wants to bury his face in his wings.

if the cupids won’t give him any opportunity to interact, he'll make one himself. he finds himself sullenly marching over to the council room, his proportionate black wings with gold streaks gearing him up as he holds the application form.

he's just on time, jimin's walking to the room to start his duties. he's the secretary and administrator for the slytherin faction, and jeongguk finds himself running over and thrusting the paper into jimin's hands.

“but you're a ravenclaw, jeonggukie- i'm only in charge of processing documentation for slytherins.”

“b-but i want hyung to do mine!”

“it's just the application, jeongguk! school regulations state that each house has their designated admin, although all of us fall under the student council category, love.”

jeongguk mumbles a little oh, with a sigh, lips pursed together, wings drooping. better for him, anyway. he won't have to participate in some convention he's not interested in (and during the weekend!), but had filled in just to potentially spend more time with jimin.

wait. hold on a second.

“sorry, uh. can you say that again?”

“you have to go to your house’s secretary to submit-”

“no, i meant! a-after the last statement-”

“... even though we're all under the same category of student councillors? did i say that? which part did you-”

as he rewinds time in his head, jimin feels his cheeks grow warm together with jeongguk's face. “love?”

jeongguk shys away when jimin holds his hand, “did that make you uncomfortable? i'm sorry, bab- sorry, i mean, i usually use such terms-”

“is it bad that i really liked it?”

“you're an overgrown big baby…” jimin mumbles to himself, flushed pink, throwing his whole being straight into jeongguk's. “feel better, love? my friends say i give nice hugs.”

“ohmygod,” jeongguk breathes, unable to process. he's malfunctioning.

they spend a whole thirty seconds in each others arms, for the budding warmth, the niceness of being together, being held;

“you just stick to your drawings, okay? you don't need to join some science related event if you have no interest!”

“eh? j-jimin ssi knows i draw?” he’s so flustered- jimin must never know he was his muse for his latest art piece at the-

“mmh, i went to the art exhibition in the art gallery run by the painter angels recently. your idea of falling in love via someone’s eyes through a first person perspective was so dreamy,” jimin smiles softly, “i secretly wish someone would love me like that, too.”

then he waves a goodbye to jeongguk, as duty calls, and jeongguk swears he sees jimin shed his wings once more. two feathers now lay in his stead.

when jimin was seven, he'd swiped his hair back, only to see the glimmering green hearts of his friends shine from their chests. it was a football match they had won that summer, and the hearts he saw were turquoise, various shades of bright green. he'd later come to know green hearts stood for friendship. blue hearts meant destiny- and hence the beautiful turquoise represented that they were destined to be friends, to be in the soccer competition and win it together. he still remembers the watermelon and soda they'd gotten to celebrate their victory.

when he was twelve, his bangs were covering his eyes, and upon swiping them back, he saw the glimmering hearts of those around him, some engraved, some a myriad of colours. he saw his brother's heart shine a glorious rainbow with a deep indigo and purple finish at the end. a rainbow gleam which represented happiness, fulfilment, delight. he was confused to see a kim namjoon engraved in the centre of the heart- and it was the same kim namjoon that was eventually his brother's soulmate.

the same kim namjoon is the one that picks up on his hidden visions- that jimin is a guardian. a guardian angel that can see the colours of another angel’s heart, indicative of feelings. although colours could change, the darker the pigment would indicate the intensity, and if the colours were sheer, it would likely fade soon. an ‘unlock’ action would be required to activate his guardian vision; one in every million would be a guardian- past winged scrolls listed some of them as having to do a peace sign framing their eyes to see, or having to be under close proximity to glean a sight. for jimin, all he had to do was run his fingers through his hair- a bad habit that resulted in the newfound prowess he possessed.

“i met his gaze and then my wings started to flutter and my heart started beating so fast and i think i fell in love, hyung,” jeongguk starts off softly, slowly trailing off in shyness to speaking in pout combined with small font. it really becomes that way sometimes. “and i don't know what to do…”

yoongi sighs softly, closing the theory book jeongguk had initially sought help for. “i dunno, you could like, write him a song and serenade him, that kind of thing. or, you could write him a love letter… at least, for tae- i mean, at least that worked for me,” he goes quiet, flushing at the mention of his boyfriend. contrary to his baroque gothic styled wings and quiet composure, yoongi isn't an emotionless asshat or cold; he just needs to be bundled up more and gets easily drained from physical activity. the love letter he'd written was brought up at every occasion by taehyung, since he was immensely proud that yoongi wrote him a letter signed off with i love you and even sent it through the winged mail. the letter had flown itself way to taehyung’s room, and the rest was history. taehyung had ugly cried his way, bawling as he barged into yoongi’s bed in ten minutes. after knowing why taehyung was here, he curled up further into a ball beneath the blanket in groggy embarrassment until taehyung converted a happy good morning kid's song (as a wake up call) into sobs that sounded like the end of the world.

“i like holding hands,” yoongi softly says, face heating up, “so taehyung always holds mine. i assume jimin would like holding hands too. holding hands is very nice.”

it's also a nice contrast, since taehyung is the eldest son, and yoongi the youngest son in his family; although yoongi is older in the relationship and spoils taehyung rotten, the ‘older brother’ in taehyung is awakened once in a while, and yoongi lets it slide since it's nice to be pampered every now and then. yoongi often bites his nails and the skin around his thumbs when stressed, hence taehyung likes holding his hand to stop him. they both love handholding anyway. it's a homely, warm and fuzzy relationship. he fondly recalls taehyung giving him his egg on top of his ramen (the best part) while having dinner two nights ago, and the pink high on his cheeks makes jeongguk smile. “you thinking of him?”

“nobody's thinking of taehyung!” the retort comes immediately, sending jeongguk into a fit of laughs. people are right about the tsundere part, though.

yoongi hauls jeongguk's ass straight and hands him to jimin the next day- jeongguk wanted him to proofread but yoongi insisted that it's his love life, and it's not something special if it's not between the two of them only.

it's only upon yoongi leading him (clutching his hand, yes) to the nursery that jeongguk realises why jimin is sometimes excused from classes with reasons apart from stellar results. “you didn't know? jimin comes here when the nurses can't do anymore damage control.” jimin, jeongguk realises, has the special role of singing the infant angels to sleep- sometimes the newborns in the nursery next to their school have the intense urge to cry nonstop, triggering the other babies adjacent to them and sparking a whole chain of babies crying. jimin will be called in to rock them in his arms and sing to them. jeongguk is utterly heartbroken as he sees the babies gurgle and laugh when jimin holds them in his arms, sweetly talks to them and sings them lullabies. (he's now singing them a children’s nursery rhyme, just now it was one about tomatoes, and now it's about picking flowers!) according to the little tags at their feet for identification, jimin sings to a beomgyu, followed by a yeonjun and a soobin . according to the timesheet outside, jimin is apparently very good at handling a certain hueningkai and taehyun .

an angel and good with kids? and with such a lovely and gentle countenance? and such a sweet voice? jeongguk's definitely on cloud nine. he's dizzy from how fast his heart beats when he sees the fairy of the infant wards. he swears jimin could've been a cupid in his past life. or an angel that was the reincarnation of aphrodite.

“jimin-ah!” the slytherin gets called over the moment he exits, by his senior of the same division, both having met in a meeting for all class presidents. jeongguk's getting whiplash from turning instinctively whenever he hears that pretty name. you can check his memory clouds: 80% is essentially jimin- and now it's only going to be full capacity because of the way jimin tends to the infants so sweetly, looks at them with so much love. maybe even going overdrive. he's gonna have to buy more cloud storage now. look at how the babies are all happy and sleeping under jimin's touch- his heart has melted more than twelve times already, it’s too much!

“this kid’s been moping about all day and he keeps staring at you... it drives me nuts because i can't teach him music if he's busy doing that. please fix this, and wing me when you're done.” yoongi’s small black wings teleport him to find taehyung, as an awkward jeongguk is confronted by a confused jimin. they leave the nursery to talk in a more secluded place. jimin receives a message from yoongi: he really likes you, by the way. i know you won't disappoint him.

“the baby’s eyes are growing bigger,” jimin fondly mumbles to himself, “why aren’t you listening to yoongi hyung, jeongguk-ah? be a good boy and listen-”

“b-because i keep thinking about you.” he can see jimin’s wings curl up, shy. “and you’re so pretty, tinkerbell hyung.”

“i do like wearing pretty things,” jimin says, when jeongguk comments on how cute his baby pink sweater is, with little lace trimmings on the sleeves and ribbon at the collar. “hmm, but tinkerbell is green from the books, i think, not pink…”

“you're so cute.” jeongguk will repeat this for as long as he lives.

“but cute means ugly but adorable…”

“you're not ugly! i didn't mean that! it's just- you're so cute… like a baby… my baby…”

“!!!!!!” it doesn't take much for jimin to hide his face in his hands, and jeongguk laughs his embarrassment away by playing with jimin's hair and tying up his bangs. there, apple hair.

“you look even more adorable now, jimin ssi. like a precious dream fairy.”

“a fairy!” jimin repeats in amusement, “does that mean all the angels work for me?”

“i don't know about the rest, but i would- any time any day.” jeongguk grins, as jimin punches him weakly, mumbling about how he was going to comment angel kim taehyung was his slave, but in the end, he just had to come up with something so sappy. “always if it's for you, tinkerbell hyung. whenever and wherever!”

(in that moment, he decides, jimin really is the one for him- and so he needs to take action to make sure it becomes a reality. as soon as possible.)

it's yet another day of looking out for jimin, and daydreaming about jimin in class. jimin, jimin, jimin, jimin!

“um, ji-! jimin ssi!” jeongguk blubbers. it's now or never. as he runs over, breeze making his hair sweep back, jimin can feel his cheeks grow warm. what in heaven is this weird feeling?

“jimin ssi,” jeongguk huffs in repetition, “you dropped this,”

it's a little envelope, and jimin frowns. he's always very careful with his things. a slight check past his shoulders tells him he's zipped up all possible compartments. there's no way a meticulous angel like him would misplace something so precious.

“sorry, but i don't think i dropped that. could it belong to the other female park jimins?”

“it's yours,” jeongguk insists, and jimin gleans the nervousness in his voice, subtle brush back of his hair showing him jeongguk's heart is glowing a baby pink. wait, pink? he steps in closer, into jeongguk's personal bubble obliviously, squinting at the bright shining heart. holding jeongguk's chest, he can hear jeongguk squeak in panic. hold on, prk jimi? sometimes if it's a new crush or a fling, the names would be in mid-carve, or not at all appear. jimin has to squint since he forgot his glasses. poor jeongguk, he thinks, he must've gotten the wrong park jimin. the other girl in ‘95 goes to their next door class. maybe her cloud lockers were full? “-min ssi?”

“i'm sorry, but i think the person you're looking for is next door-?”

“no! it's you! i'm sure of it!” jeongguk insists more harshly, then widens his eyes in fear when he sees jimin take two steps back. shucks, he's towering over jimin (since the latter slouches) and with such a menacing tone, jimin would definitely run away the way it's going- the worst possible case ever. “no, i'm sorry, but i think this is for you, jimin ssi.” the letter gets haphazardly shoved into jimin's hands, before jeongguk literally takes flight, deviating from flying protocol.

to: the bestest jiminie hyungie! tinkerbell hyung! ♡

you're so pretty! you make my heart throb, and i'm so happy to see you everyday. you're like a pretty little blossom, and whenever i see you i'm so glad my life is jiminiful. i like it, it's full of jiminie! it's like fate to have met you, and i'm so super duper happy. you're my luminary, my favourite scene stealer! you turn my boring days in school into miningful moments. i get so nervous when i see you, that my wings just go tension up and love mode:( you make me want to put love on top and forget the world exists :( you are the cutest angel in the school, i promise- you’re like a cute little bundle of baby’s breath! maybe you're a fairy? that would explain why you're so special.

i love like you so much, hyung.

ps i think you would look really nice in prussian blue and i'm absolutely not thinking about you wearing my cloak or sweaters because my uniform is blue because i'm a ravenclaw but i just can’t help but think you would look nice in my clothes okay never mind i just think you look so nice i want to kISS YOU AND HOLD YOUR HANDS AND

ps. you are very pretty as well, it's a compliment :)

pps. we can take it slow but steady, if you want ♡

love, jeon jeonggukie (if you don't remember me, i'm- you know, the angel that stupidly asked for you to say good night to him when his phone was on full brightness. i'msoembarrassed. )

(a heart that turned pink represented the colour of a crush, a first love.)

the whole chunk at the bottom was scribbled annd cancelled out in ink, but upon casting a quick reversal spell that jimin's grandmother had taught him, his cheeks go hot, face plummeting into his hands in absolute shyness. jeongguk is so cute he wants to die. punch a cloud out of cuteness. but his words are too hyperbolic, it's untrue; it's too waxed in poetic. jimin isn't all that wonderful.

he relays a message to a ravenclaw councillor, telling jeongguk to meet him after his class to confront him (somewhat) about the letter. “jeongguk? you think i'm cute? are you sure this is for me? you mentioned ‘hyung’, so could there possibly be another male jimin-”

“why? do you not think you're worthy?” the frown buries deep into his forehead, nose scrunched up as if someone just told him angels don't exist.

jimin gasps, looking away after he hits the nail on the head. how do i explain this? i don't like so many things about myself-

“we have lots of time, jimin ssi. i could explain it if you want.” the feathers at the end of jimin's cupid wings shrivel up and fall off, and jeongguk finally understands. jimin's wings are already small. if he continues this, they'll disappear.

making their way into an empty study room, he swiftly manoeuvres jimin to sit in his lap, pulling him down by the tie and making the elder angel blush once more. “good?” it's answered by a small nod.

“jeonggukie smells nice,” jimin mumbles, making jeongguk shy. “o-oh. thanks. i use fabric softener, downy! i can… um. wash your cloak or something? if you like the smell.”

“sure.” he’s so cute, a little laundry fairy.

it's an awkward silence until jeongguk clears his throat.

“okay. so tell me, what about you makes you feel like you're not good enough to be the boy i like?”

“j-jeongguk, you can't just phrase it that way…”

“i see. what do you not like about you, hyung? i'll tell you why i like it.”

“but! there are so many-”

“you're so small, you fit in my lap so nicely…” jeongguk mumbles to himself, gleeful, “oh, sorry, did you say something-”

“see! i don't like my size! i'm tiny! a small angel! don't get me started on how many times i've gotten teased-”

“but hyung,” jeongguk interjects softly, putting his warm arms around jimin's waist, snaking its way stealthily, firmly. “you're jungoo sized. you're made for me to hold. kookoo sized. jeonggukie’s boyfriend sized-”

it's too late. jimin's collapsed into a little ball of embarrassment, falling straight into his chest, face terribly red. “do you still not like your size? i can carry you if you want to feel tall.”

“i also… don't fancy my weight. and my cheeks. i'm fat! and my small eyes, especially when i wear contacts, people laugh. even if i wear glasses, they still laugh! and if i don't, i become even clumsier because everything is blurry- i also... don't like my voice. and my hyung is so much more handsome and his boyfriend is such a keeper, unlike me, who's alone; i don't like my stupid stubby fingers, it's difficult to learn the guitar or piano-”

“tinkerbell hyung…” jeongguk’s luring him out of his curled up form, forcing him to maintain eye contact, “listen to me: if you don't like your physique, let's work out together! but you must eat… food is delicious, you know. we can do sit ups together. go running or flying together. i'll wingpress and weightlift you, if you don't mind. and you're not fat, you're carryable weight, you're jeonggukie-massed.” it brings a small smile onto jimin's face, a tad bashful, but hey, at least he's not backing away from the first step of acceptance towards jeongguk’s cheesy confessions. “and who says your eyes are wonky! i will smack them! you were given the prettiest eyes, jimin ssi.”

“a-and i don’t like my front teeth. they're so crooked!”

“then we'll get them fixed, okay, sweetheart? i'll follow you to see the tooth angels. although i would prefer if you kept them like that.”

“what would you even like about them! it's-! it's not perfect and it's ugly!”

“no… i think they're so cute. with the tiny chip at the bottom- can we just fix the chip? i think the overlap is so cute-”

“if the baby thinks so…” jimin mumbles, nodding. “okay. let's fix the chip for now.”

“do you know why all these people laugh at you? they're jealous, because you're so talented. so intelligent and hardworking. soooooooo pretty. and sooooooooooo cute. and i love your cheeks! so squishable and they always makes me hungry…”

“h-hungry? jeonggukie, you want to eat me-!”

“it looks like a peach mochi. a manggaetteok. a rice dumpling. when you blush, a strawberry and cherry jam rice cake… so soft…” as he says it, entranced, he's busy poking jimin's cheeks, and the angel in his lap plays along by puffing them with air. jeongguk swears he must've gotten a nosebleed by now. how flippin’ cute is that.

“and you have the prettiest eyes. so beautiful. i don't care what people say. your hyung is handsome, yes, but you're more beautiful. if god thinks i'm wrong, i will personally fly to heaven to confront him and fight him until he says i'm right! he gave the prettiest eyes in the universe to you, jimin ssi.” jeongguk’s eyes are positively sparkling as he grabs jimin's hands to tell him this seriously, resolute, and jimin feels just a tad bit of water pool in his eyes, in the same small, mono lidded ones that jeongguk calls the most beautiful in the world. “you are very beautiful hyung, with the prettiest, prettiest eyes. if you don't trust yourself or your taste, then at least trust mine! i have superb taste!” jeongguk’s face is glowing as he conveys his little love confession, trailing off at the end, so terribly shy. “and of course that's why i… you know. chose you. just so you know.”

jimin's staring at him dumbfounded, eyes all glassy and blurred from the tears threatening to fall, fists bunched together with the hem of his shirt, lips pressed in a tight line. “but i'm not- it must be the halo effect- you know, when you see a halo or something good, you're delusional enough to-”

it's a broken cry of a beautiful, statuesque angel. jimin's little realm must've never had mirrors, then.

“maybe you feel like you're not beautiful, but i'll show you that you are, i'll prove it to you one day-”

“you promise?” jimin sniffs, eyes wet and puffy as jeongguk conjures a tissue packet for him, holding the tissue for him to blow his nose. my precious tinkerbell hyung.

“even if you feel alone, don't throw yourself away, okay?”

i don't know what this funny, fluttering feeling is- but i want to know- especially if it's because of you, jeongguk.

“i promise.” they link pinkies to seal the deal, as jeongguk's magnificent wings protectively wrap around jimin's smaller form, adjusting the smaller’s halo.

maybe you don't know yet, but i love you, jimin. this i know i do.

it was during ethics class that jimin felt his pillows in his glass sphere felt funny, only to realise someone had hidden a small parcel in his seat, a necklace hidden inside. although completely obvious (by handwriting), it is signed off as anonymous. the message is clear: the necklace is from the human world, but for you, jimin ssi. it stands for Your Secret Lover ♡

then, the winged letter came. in human terms, it would be equivalent to the conventional snail mail. jimin keeps the YSL necklace on perpetually, hidden underneath his button-up. it’s only right, he thinks, to send a mail back to whom he thinks the sender is. the winged letter he thus sends is synonymous to how he feels on the inside; she’s shy, flitters around to find jeongguk’s location, skittering and bumping into jeongguk’s wings. it takes a moment or two for her to crash into jeongguk’s shoulder, until she hesitantly smacks his cheek and falls into his hands, her wings on each side of the retracting into the ordinary flaps of the envelope once she changes hands into the recipient's. her job is done.

jeongguk blinks at the cream coloured rectangle in his hands, until he recalls an image from history class- it's a traditional styled billet doux; instead of using a wax stamp or a sticker or basic adhesive, the sender must’ve used a kiss to seal the letter. the only way to open it was for the intended recipient to give it a kiss in return, for the envelope to unfold on its own. otherwise, it remains sealed for eternity- it’s one of the most traditional forms of mail that not many angels use anymore, and jeongguk's heart melts instantly. goodness gracious, it's so hard to keep remoulding his heart at this rate?!

(it’s the same type of love mail his own mom sent to his dad- and that’s also how they fell in love and started dating, and the rest was history. via literal love mail.)

“can you bend down a little, jeonggukie? there's something in your hair…” after a consultation with his romance webtoons during the weekend, jimin chews his lip nervously as jeongguk complies. deep breaths, minnie! you can do it!

standing on his tippy toes, he puckers up, gently giving jeongguk a peck on the lips. his wings had been all ruffled up, slowly growing again since friday night, and he hopes he might be right this time. he retracts soon after, but jeongguk seems to stare into space, motionless after their lips had made contact for a mere second.

jeongguk doesn't kiss back, like how the webtoons depict that he should. he just stands there, motionless like a statuette- jimin's frightened out of his wits. did he misinterpret jeongguk's actions? was it another person in the school that wrote the note for the necklace beneath his shirt? so it wasn't jeongguk that made his wings grow to this extent? a part of his heart sinks. if it's not jeongguk, then-

“did i misunderstand you?” his lips are quivering, eyes brimming with tears. “i'm so sorry, if you didn't like me that way, t-then i wasn't sensitive enough, i'm s-so sorry-”

jeongguk's hands waste no time in pulling him in protectively, his wings wrapping around them just like a cocoon to give them privacy. “jiminbell hyung, i just got shocked at how bold you were… i really like you a lot-” he hears jimin's voice crack, his tiny sob of relief. “did i scare you, angel? i'm so sorry…”

(jeongguk's baby gets kissed ten times, peppered all over his face, as a sincere apology for frightening him like the rhunder does.)

today, jeongguk ascertains that he is truly, madly in love with jimin. these days, the weather’s been incredibly hot, so he's tugged of his tie midway. in lieu of running around all day for errands and having sports for recreational class, it makes sense to see his uniform sloppy and tie flippant and loosened for better ventilation. he’s even lost the cloak, for the heat is really unbearable.

and now we revisit jeongguk's object of affection: park jimin. upon seeing that jeongguk's tie is awfully out of shape and unbalanced, jimin tugs it off, dissolving the obnoxious and precariously tied knot, and re-ties it for him. for some reason, the vague intimacy makes him blush; precisely for the reason that it feels like something jimin would do everyday if they ever got married.

“tinkerbell hyung? today's tie looks different.” he’s so ardently enamoured by jimin’s deft hands, his every move; the way jimin makes sure to measure his tie so it is the perfect length, makes sure the knot is secure but not too tight that it’s stuffy. honestly, jimin could just sit there and clap his hands (popopopo!) and he would be equally enchanted, let’s face it.

“oh. yesterday's was a full windsor, today's is an eldredge knot,” jimin beams, proud of himself, “i thought it would be nice to tie different styles for you since i'll probably be doing it everyday…”

“what do you mean! i- i can tie my own tie, thank you v-very much,” jeongguk stutters back, face all warm, an initial challenging retort fading into a meek withdrawal when he realises that he's been flippant about his attire- but that's what keeps jimin by his side, right? “n-nobody said you have to do it everyday...”

(but i want you to do it everyday-)

although, his mind does drift to a futuristic sight of jimin cooking breakfast. taking care of their kids. every morning, he'll pick out a different tie to compliment jeongguk's dress shirt before he goes to work at some white-winged office job; jimin will kiss him at the doorstep before he leaves, bidding him goodbye with traces of a “go and come back safely, honey,” that makes him grow fond even after marriage for so many years. his daughter would be a little angel princess, waving him goodbye too, after he tries another new hairstyle for her before going to work. today would be apple hair, tomorrow would be french braids. yesterday would've been a ballerina bun; their youngest son would still be sleeping, the reason why jimin would opt to stay at home instead of work for the angel police forces. far fetched fantasies aside, but yes, jimin would do exactly this: do up his tie everyday and kiss him when he leaves and comes home with flowers or cakes for his little family-

and holy fluttering wings did he just say all that crap that aloud. “it's not very good to be over reliant, but if jeonggukie wants me to choose his neckties and tie them for him everyday, then…” the flush of jimin's cheeks are so heckin’ cute. what in angel language does he think he's doing? “i guess i could… i'd buy you an aqua coloured ice cream tie if it’s your first day at an internship… i’ll buy a halloween patterned one too, because i’m born in october- we'll go with smart casual, okay, jeonggukie? maybe we'll go with a christensen knot? ian knot? or how would you like me to tie them- if you have anything in mind, jiminnie will learn...”

for the love of god, how can someone be this cute? jeongguk just wants to throw himself into the sky and scream into a cloudpillow. he grabs jimin's hands, encasing them in his. “jimin hyung, i really like you so much. no wait, i love you. even my wingspan and the clouds and sky cannot express how big-”

“i know.” jimin cuts him off by giggling into a chaste peck to his lips, “i also… love my husband of our two future kids very much.”

caught by surprise, jimin yanks jeongguk down to his eye level as he spaces out, and gives him a kiss. before he can scurry off in embarrassment, jeongguk uses his wings to create a little privacy for them, kissing jimin slowly, languidly, without a single care in the world. everything about jimin is so soft and sweet and pretty and pink; he tastes just like buttermilk and vanilla, smells like peonies and moringa. looks at jeongguk oh so fondly with his honey drooping eyes and rosy cheeks.

“husband of two future kids, hm?” for some reason, it gives him an out of this world sort of pleasure to tease jimin, a competition to see how pink he can go. jimin gives him a few more pecks before telling him to get his lazy wings to class, due to the fat that as a class president and executive committee of the slytherin faction, he cannot condone truancy so to speak.

(jeongguk pouts just enough to earn him one more quick peck.)

he then spends the rest of afternoon lecture daydreaming and designing their future home, decides on blue, white and yellow colour schemes, affirms himself that jimin and him are going to be awesome parents. oh yes, jeongguk also plans to hand-paint the nursery together with jimin. for their two future kids.

occasionally when jimin gets stressed or insecure once more, he turns to his burgundy velvet coloured friend, wine. seokjin hyung says it's okay to drink as a stress reliever, but not as a longtime coping mechanism. also, seokjin has learned from past experiences that jimin is easily taken advantage of when tipsy (read: everyone will want to take him home), so there have been rules set regarding an alcohol limit, and a figurative guardian angel must be present. most of the time it's jimin's brother himself, or namjoon. yoongi had been the emergency number once, too. this time round, seokjin passes the baton over to jeongguk, also a makeshift test to deem him fit of his younger brother's hand. maybe in marriage for the future.

“dimin!! diminnie… waaah! diminnie wanna, wanna drink-” jimin gets his feelings sometimes, of not being good enough. not smart enough. not pretty enough. never enough. but now, there's a jeongguk there to hold him and stop the red wine crusade.

“tinkerbell hyung-”

“nooooo, only jungoo- only jungoo can call me tinkwerbell-”

“and why is that?” his expression has melted into utter fondness, with jimin all whiny and sleepy in his arms. he's so cute jeongguk wants to cry.

“b-because jungoo is special to dimin… diminnie loooooooooves th’ baby-” he lisps as he hugs jeongguk, completely forgetting it was a ‘stranger’ in his hazy post alcohol mind. it's the longest he's ever stayed away from drinking after meeting jeongguk, but sometimes life can be hard, right?

“oh? is jeongguk your baby?” he wants to combust when jimin nods ferociously, hands balled into fists, clutching his shirt.

“jungoogie is mine!”

“like it when jungoo sings… for diminnie… sleepy… he's th’ best,” jimin murmurs, curled up in jeongguk's hold, a warm hand patting his back to lull him to sleep. “you like it when jeongguk sings you lullabies?”

“mhm, l-love… jus’ love...”

that was the red wine.

when seokjin had bestowed them with a bottle of champagne with a wink, they'd saved it for a celebration instead of sorrow. and jimin's cuteness after cheers to a full score for his exams made jeongguk's heart explode. implode. combust. burn with a rapid fire.

“oh noooooo!” he wails, tipsy, “i need to call…” reaching for his phone, jimin struggles to punch in jeongguk's digits, grouchy until he remembers jeongguk is 1 on speed dial. because jeongguk is his number 1.

“jungoogie!” jimin says into the phone, despite said person being only a table away, “there's a-! a ridiculously h-hot angel here, please come and save meeeeeeee~”

jeongguk is in mid-exasperation and utter softness as he tosses away his phone, comes over to cuddle jimin. “jungoogie!” jimin yells into his phone, facetime switching to a desperate ordinary voice call, “the handsome angel is coming! noooooo he's too handsome, where! are! you!” according to jimin's resistance, jeongguk learns that ‘dimin’ is trying to remain loyal and it's not fair, where is jeongguk when he promised to save jwimin? “jungoo! th- the hot angel is coming b-but i think he's attached, i! i cheated on you jungoogie, i'm sorry! diminnie is-” jeongguk is also close to tears, his little angel fairy is too cute.

“please go away,” jimin says softly, hands having no strength left to push jeongguk away, “i have! i have a boyfriend! he will smack you! for- for trying to be handsome and s-seduce me,” he trails off weakly, where! is jungoo!

“i’d like to see him try,” jeongguk laughs, watching jimin scrunch his nose, face flushing from the alcohol. “you are a bad man! m-my boyfriend! he- you are hot but my boyfriend is hotter! my jungoogie will-”

“shhhh.” jeongguk wraps him in his arms, cradles him off to bed, hums him his favourite song. “you cheater,” jimin mumbles, “you know the song kookoo sings to me- you are bad!”

jeongguk just laughs, caresses his pretty face, boops his cute nose. “jeonggukie sent me here to look after you, angel.”

jimin goes quiet, lullaby working like a charm. “is that so?” he mumbles, barely able to keep his eyes open, “if th’ baby sent you, then you're a good boy…”

jimin falls asleep with his hands in a thumbs up position, and if jeongguk weren't besotted by now, he definitely is.

jimin often trips, even on air. it's endearing, especially since angels only have velcro shoe straps, buckles or slip-ons; only in the human world do they exist shoes with laces. strings are believed to be reserved for the sacred red strings of fate, something close to becoming obsolete. perpetually on a ‘jimin hyung lookout’, jeongguk will save him despite tumbling to the ground or landing in an awkward pose. if his wing is there to cushion jimin's fall, then all is well. also, he needs to make sure jimin's halo is put on properly. it's a sign of authority if an angel wears a halo in school, for it signifies that the bearer is trustworthy and capable of handling leadership positions and does an excellent job in the angel council. it's harder to kiss sometimes, but jeongguk is proud jimin has a halo awarded to him. it feels very correct.

he learns from hoseok hyung that jimin's legs often get sore as he's always scurrying about, like a memory squirrel, with many things to do, so he sleeps very well and fast when massaged. jimin often works himself to the core, and ends up burnt out, fatigued, leaving jeongguk no choice but to carry jimin on his back so he can sleep on the ride home, rather than take the angel carriages which are likely to be packed.

instead of spreading his wings outwards to fly faster, he wraps it in the opposite direction of its natural course, inwards like a bat, to keep jimin warm. it tugs at the wing muscle tendons a little, but it is so very satisfactory when he hears jimin purr at the overlapping feathered warmth.

ever since the fateful experience with imin's extreme dieting- that was initially a secret project- seokjin had vowed to make him lunchboxes or make sure he eats his meals; he had felt disappointed as a big brother for noticing only when jimin had lost a severe amount of weight, and lost even the slightest appetite to eat again. hence he started off with small portions, rice balls shaped in cute animals and small nutritional side dishes to egg jimin on with eating food again. it was the first time jimin had evet tried mushrooms, so now he loves eating mushrooms. it has a special place in his heart. jimin also had to be fed in order to make him eat- even though with time, it wasn't mandatory anymore, but seokjin just liked seeing jimin's happy face when fed.

one of his fondest memories of lunchbox meals was when the two of them decided to watch a horror movie together past midnight, and screamed so loudly, throwing their food all over the couch. in hindsight, one was scared of ghosts and the other was easily frightened by jump scares- but it was a very good night, since they cooked ramen together and had a long talk about life. oh, and the cleanup was done by a lazy restoration spell.

“tinkerbell… where is tinkerbell hyung…”

before he knows it, jimin is silently be his side, tapping his shoulder. “you have my seokjinnie lunchbox.”

“oh, i um- i was supposed to give it to you-” jimin pinches the non existent fat of his tummy, as if it were a valid excuse. “but i don't want to eat.”

“i promised hyung i would give it to you and watch you eat it-”

his stomach proceeds to growl in agreement, making jimin blush. “i'm... on a diet…”

“no. you're eating. i don't want to see a single bit left.” jimin just silently looks at him, guilty, both their hands holding each side of the lunchbox, but eyes locked in a staring competition. jimin's eyes are so very pretty, like glimmering stars and fairy lights. jeongguk's eyes are a honey waterfall, the (banana) milky way.

“i didn't bring any cutlery,” jimin mumbles, as they snap out of it, shy, looking away and turning into a garble of noises and apologies. “i brought some! i'll feed you!”

upon hearing he will be fed, jimin says okay, even to eating everything up. “you can't leave a thing, got it?”

jimin nods, cheeks full with rice and veggies, jeongguk feeding him bit by bit. he also lights up when he spots seokjin's specially stewed mushroom side dish, reminiscent of the fond memories of his older brother. remembers their pillow fights over potato chips and fighting over the other being more deserving of the last slice of steak. and his heart is so warm.

“you're a present fairy,” jeongguk says, when jimin gifts him with a bundle of flowers from the human world, flowers that actually cannot be revived unlike those planted by angels. he will always purchase pretty things for jeongguk. his personal favourite buy was a kaleidoscope and a cat lamp, whereas for jeongguk it was the yellow scarf jimin made him with a special silky wool from the humans. jimin is always making sure jeongguk is toasty and warm, making sure he sleeps, gets his cuddles, especially on a bad day.

on the other hand, jeongguk buys him fun things- bubbles from the real world, packets of confetti from the magic shop close to his home. he buys more the next visit, after he sees how mesmerised jimin is when he pops the bubbles, pouts when they've vanished or flown away. jeongguk's equally transfixed, but with the celestial boy that dances in the confetti he pours over him. a quick looping spell allows more confetti and bubbles to emerge, making jimin absolutely delighted. it's when the magic runs out that jimin will pout a little, and jeongguk will tease him by calling him jwimin sshi, and softly kiss him on the cheeks to see them go all rosy.

they've gotten a little further than friends, but nobody has officially made the first move yet. therefore seokjin decides to intervene, by inviting jeongguk for dinner. it's just like a meet the parents session, whereby one is a senior he admires so much, the other a beloved angel that happens to be jimin's elder brother. one had wings with a perfect golden ratio, the other with the scientifically proven most handsome face. how was jeongguk ever going to live up to such standards?

dressed in his sunday best, namjoon does a good job at making feel at home, and seokjin also dotes on him a fair bit. him and jimin just get extremely embarrassed when their hands brush against each other the fraction of a second, when reaching out for the plates, another portion of food.

“look at you jimin, you're still a baby.” seokjin fondly coos, pointing at the majority of his dinosaur patterned plate filled with bread and mashed potatoes, with some pasta and meat at the side.

“no, i'm not a baby-! i'm- i'm jeonggukie's baby…” namjoon hides his face behind seokjin's broad shoulders due to second hand embarrassment, both boyfriends of each brother choking.

“yah, this angel over here,” seokjin waves a pointer finger at jeongguk, “what on earth have you been doing to my brother? he suddenly became as shameless as you-”

“says you, hyung, wingwide handsome angel of the school-” seokjin shoves a large piece of steak into jeongguk's mouth with a pout.

“namjoonie, he's bullying me, do something-”

namjoon shoots him clandestine finger guns and a thumbs up when seokjin isn't looking, scooping more fish for jimin, before dumping more vegetables on jeongguk's plate. it looks like he's been approved and inaugurated into their house, then.

now that jimin practically exudes more glitter and a beautiful dreamy aura about him, more people are starting to notice him, and his wings are slowly growing. it's outrageous, jeongguk thinks, that people are only noticing jimin now. he's been radiant all this while! on the flipside, he does not like sharing, as he sees a future where jimin will be too magnetic and maybe leave him for a better angel. it's his darkest fear, despite of the trust he has in jimin.

he bestows jimin a pair of non prescription glasses one day after school, in one of the study rooms the two of them have booked. “tinkerbell hyung, you need to wear them, because now your eyes are too pretty and you are going to attract the whole school at this rate!”

jimin obliges, obediently putting them on, shrugging his shoulders up cutely, and biting his green striped tie between cherry lips. “is this better?”

“w-who taught you to do this! i’m-!” jungoo wants to die. what is jimin doing! this is not good for his heart! thank god it’s just the two of them, if they were in public jimin would definitely make it to the papers due to his charm-

“jinnie hyung said jeonggukie will definitely fall for me if i bite on my tie and seduce you, but i don’t know how …” he pouts, releasing the tie from his teeth, thinking. “aha!” immediately, he points to his hair and casts a spell. a lavender berry jimin.

“this one?”

some gold sparkles.

“or maybe this?” it's a pink haired sakura jimin. “oh my god,” jeongguk breathes. he looks absolutely stunning.

“oh no, does my baby not like it?” poof, jimin becomes a gorgeous silver. jeongguk doesn't know what to do with such power.

and then, the ultimatum.

“is a natural colour better?” jimin sounds so worried in his pout jeongguk just wants to wrap him up in his arms forever. his little tinkerbell hyung. with black hair. black. hair. and glasses.

“oh my god,” he repeats, pulling a flustered jimin into his grasp, “can i please date you already.”

“d-date!” jimin squeaks, panicking before he runs his hands through his hair. is this all because he has successfully seduced jeonggukie? jeongguk's heart is glowing a bright, dazzling pink for him. a pink heart for limerence. for a crush he's fallen hard for. oh no.

“jeonggukie wants to date me,” jimin says to himself, “my baby wants to date me.” the first time his voice was incredulous; the second, jeongguk could hear the smile progressively grow wider as he repeated it. “you want to date me!”

“yeah. i really want to.”

“but i haven't seduced you yet, i don't know how to be sexy-” he looks sad, looking at jeongguk with those glassy, doll-like eyes.

“who says you're not sexy, huh? tell me-”

“jin hyung predicted you would argue back,” jimin giggles, almost losing balance as he claps so, so cutely,  “so he said jiminnie should reply with ‘i am sexy, cute and lovely’. hyung says jeonggukie will understand it.”

jeongguk almost wants to punch himself in the face. he must've struck the angel lotto in his past life. jimin is so flipping cute. so freaking adorable. jimin makes him feel so many things all at once, all types of feelings; they just go woosh all the way to his heart. the heart jimin captured aeons ago.

“you're so cute, tinkerbell hyung. i'm going to date you and then marry you and have cupid children with you.” he's mumbling these words into jimin's black hair, wings wrapped around jimin protectively, at the same time spotting gold glitter in the smaller angel’s hair. jimin always glows and shines for some reason. he's so pretty and gorgeous and adorable. it's really not fair.

“so, does jeonggukie really think i'm sexy cute and lovely?” a small voice comes from his chest, and jeongguk can hear the pout in his tone. for angel’s sake. “oh my god. yes. you are. the sexiest, cutest and loveliest. seokjin hyung is absolutely correct.”

jimin makes a little ‘uwuwu’ sound and jeongguk's heart is left in shambles.

“wait. what do you mean you've never flown before? you're an angel, hyung, i don't see why-”

“because my wings are too small.” his voice is downcast, both of them in jimin's bedroom. “it's so shameful to admit, but sometimes i try and i still fall down,” it's so disgraceful for an angel not to know how to fly. it's as good as a fully functional human being not knowing how to walk or speak. an average human without any physical complications still crawling like a baby past adulthood. “as soon as my feet leave the ground, i'll fall-”

“i'll teach you? is that… is that okay?” jeongguk holds his hands tightly, the way one would teach an infant to cruise. “here. i'll catch you-”

jimin's so scared. he's fallen countless times, alone in his bedroom. it's scary to fall, it's easy to feel like a failure. it's harder to want to try again with each successive fail. his legs turn to jelly, body trembling. my wings are too small. i'm too heavy. i can't do it-

“i'll catch you, tinkerbell hyung, trust me- just take a deep breath, and flutter your wings, just a little-”

he knows martial arts belonging to humans, on the ground. he knows how to do somersaults and tumbles on his feet. it's never been the air- always earth.

“i'm scared,” he confesses, mind abuzz with every possible outcome. it's so scary-

until a special someone holds his hand, and he gains the courage to will his feet to leave the ground.

contrary to popular belief, learning how to fly is stressful for an angel who hasn't been able to fly for more than two decades of his life; it's almost embarrassing to admit- as an angel, it's always secretly been shameful in jimin's perspective to not be able to fly. he's trying his best, working doubly as hard to quickly master the art of cruising in the air. a fear must be overcomed, and with a small but strong support system, jimin slowly starts to get the hang of it. it's stressful and tiring, but now, with jeonggukie's coaching, he can do a little loop in the air! it's a remarkable feeling.

for someone whose wings haven't been utilised as much as his angelic peers, jimin's cupid wings grow tired easily. combined with an incoming load of more work, it's not difficult to feel the fatigue accumulating and piling up. jimin's already a tad sleepy as jeongguk brushes his hair with his slender hands, eyes about to shut and drift off to dreamland, when jeongguk breaks the silence. “spread ‘em.”

it helps jimin jolt out of his close to dozing off moment, instead going bright red. “you… you wanna d-do it here?” is the baby asking for kisses? ah… he's asking for opened mouth kisses! jimin leans forward, eyes closed and lips puckered up, slightly parted meeting a very confused jeongguk. eh? i thought he might misunderstand and think i wanted him to- um. spread his… legs… but- but he's so cute am i going to say no?!

cradling jimin's little squishy face in his own, jeongguk returns a kiss. “tinkerbell hyung, you need to stop making my heart race like that…”

“does the baby want more kisses..?” jimin mumbles to himself, cheeks all red. it's so terribly embarrassing, but kissing is nice.

“wait, are we misunderstanding something..?” jeongguk says sheepishly, after the third chaste kiss, “i meant! i meant spread your wings, jimin ssi! i will comb the feathers and massage them for you while you work.”

“h-huh… but the files and documents-” his rebuttal is met with a firm shut of the folder, jeongguk shaking his head and turning jimin to face him. the council room is empty, jimin staying behind to tidy up the backlog and tally up the accounts and minutes. of course, where jimin goes, it's close to always that an overexcited puppy angel will follow.

“no, take a break, tinkerbell hyung- is it because this makes you sleepy?” jimin nods, almost purrs when jeongguk gently massages past the knot in his wings. “just relax okay? i'll give you two hundred massages if it helps make you less stressed!”

jimin only remembers nodding, and waking up in his own bed the next morning.

sometimes, jeongguk camps over in jimin's bed for the weekend (easier to go to school together and bond, he claims) and gets too excited or hyper he has difficulties sleeping. his brain is too hyperactive, which is why he mostly prefers exhausting or sweating himself out in order to finally give in to exhaustion.

“i can't sleep, hyung.” a small voice pipes up from under the fluffy yellow blanket.

“is my jeonggukie not tired? do you want hyung to stroke your hair? i think that is how the babies in the angel’s elementary fall asleep?” jimin shifts, a hand popping out from under the covers to pat his head. “is this okay?”

jeongguk's eyes widen, softens at jimin's soft sleepy smile. “um, maybe uh-! maybe we could kiss?” his voice trails off as he starts shrinking into the covers, bashful.

“so the baby wants goodnight kisses,” jimin laughs softly, closing the nonexistent gap between them, booping jeongguk’s nose and delivering a prompt onslaught of peppered kisses all over his baby's face. it seems to have some magical effect. or so he thinks, when jeongguk settles and pulls him closer by the waist. everything goes quiet with the steady rhythm of their breathing, until-

“i want a kith,” jeongguk lisps in repeat sleepily,  eyes groggy as he struggles to hug jimin tighter. it's never enough sometimes, on nights like this. jimin complies, cutely responding, “then i don't just want a kith in return, jungoogah… minnie wants two.” and he promptly changes his mind, all kithes, using his pointer finger to dot every part or his face, and what is jeongguk going to say? no?

“all mine,” he mumbles, cuddling jimin with his deserved butterfly kisses, hugging him like his personal bolster, entrapping them in like an easy surrender of five more minutes of snooze time on a lazy morning.

“all yours,” jimin whispers back, easily falling back into slumber with his nicest cuddler in the world. jeongguk falls asleep with his lips pressed into jimin's hair.

things have settled, and jimin's wings are now able to carry his weight, although as and when they still grow or shrink, with the net difference still enabling him to fly short distances. and also do loops. and obviously it's also nice to have reaffirmation now and then.

“jeonggukie, i have something important to ask you,” jimin inhales and exhales deeply, tugging on his cloak, “do you like me?”

“o-of course i do!” jeongguk huffs, almost sounding offended, “of course i like you, hyung!”

“no, ah, i meant like… you know? um, like-like? ”

jeongguk turns shy as he peels jimin's hand from his sleeve, holding his hands and chewing his lip, “hyung, was i not obvious enough? i thought with the weekly letters-” change of plans, he’ll just let the small peck on jimin's forehead do the talking.

“i see…”

jimin buries his face into jeongguk's chest. “i like you a lot too, as in, i also like-like you.”

“so you love me, jimin ssi?”

“mmh,”

“say it~”

jimin easily flushed and embarrassed “i love you, jeongguk.”

“again-”

“i… love you, jeo-”

“again! again!”

“jeon jeongguk! t-that's too much!”

jimin swears he sees jeongguk's eyes sparkle, go so wide like showing bunnies a packet of carrots, holland lop ears at attention too.

it doesn't take much for jeongguk to confirm that with his little freckles and rosebud cheeks on full flare, jimin is the prettiest little strawberry. ever.

out of curiosity, jeongguk had casually asked jimin why he often wore so many rings on his fingers, and particularly since he did quite a fair share of writing and transcripting- wouldn't it be in the way? cumbersome? but the answer was simple- a different ring arrangement or a different finger would indicate a different task jimin has to complete, like a reminder system. jimin often forgets, so looking at his own hands is a highly efficient and effective way of getting things done. sometimes he forgets where his phone is, or his notebook. so the rings are working, so far.

a strange insight that jeongguk had gleaned, was that both jimin and taehyung always kept the fourth finger on the left hand empty; for taehyung, a permanent band had stayed after yoongi charmed him with his little black wings. whereas for jimin, he'd started to wear one (his favourite one with a crystal) on that finger only on certain days, which was puzzling. jeongguk would've thought by now he would know that the thumb stood for council matters, the index finger for magick and spells. the third on the right for class duty, and so on.

“tinkerbell hyung, i don't understand! why is it always on now…” jeongguk plays with the plain silver band, finger nudging it with a pout, trying to turn it. it's always the one on the fourth finger on the left hand. from nothing at all to even three just yesterday. and one today! the others he's gotten them down pat, and can even predict which arrangements will be on his fingers on which day. so what exactly is going on with this sudden change?

“ah, you noticed?” jimin's cheeks are so pink. so cute. “i wear one here whenever i think of you… because this vein here is linked directly to the heart, you know? so it's a special finger...”

“w-wearing one because you thought of me?” jeongguk echoes, mumbling to himself. the subject is put aside when he needs to hurry off to class, only to be brought up a couple of days later.

“j-jimin ssi! i also thought of you a lot today!” jeongguk's running over to him at full throttle, cloak flying in the wind, his arms outstretched as if mimicking a zombie. after some squinting and a closer distance does jimin see jeongguk having his fingers stacked full with silver and gold bands. paper chains too. flower stems as well. “tink- tinkerbell, ” he pants, fingers now right in front of jimin's face, “hyung- i thought of you a lot!”

jimin doesn't know whether he should feel exasperated or ecstatic that jeongguk now knows his ring code. it's rather mortifyingly pleasing. a very nice myriad of embarrassment, fondness, exasperation and melting, all at once.

“okay, take a deep breath-” they inhale and exhale together, “and repeat after me: ‘i love myself.’”

“i love myself,” jimin parrots, holding jeongguk's hands tightly. his voice is shaky, as if he were standing on the top of the highest angel tower and looking down. but of course, he's only sitting on jeongguk's lap.

“say it again.”

“i- i love myself!”

“you're doing wonderful, angel. now, one more time-”

“i… i love jeonggukie.” jimin says, softly, lips jutted out in a duckling like pout that it's ridiculously cute.

“hey! that's great, but you're supposed to love yourse-”

“i love jeonggukie!” jimin says louder, causing the latter to become even more embarrassed instead. the only non-magic method jeongguk has known to work (tried and tested repetitively) like charm is to kiss the uwu machine to make him stop.

jeongguk is today years old in his angelspan that he realises that jimin likes to dance- but his wings are tiny, and his way of expression through his movements aren't in line with the rigid rules of angel ballet. jimin's style is more of a modern and contemporary mixture, a meld of traditional lines but futuristic expression. when he was younger, upon insistence, his mother had sent him to dance class, but he just stood out too much and always got picked on by his teacher, met with disdainful looks by his peers. it was an awful experience and he'd cried many times buried in seokjin's wide wings. he'd stopped for decades, now. but it was always a wish, deep down inside.

“hyung! how could you give up something you love! i'd never give it up if it means so much to me-”

“jeongguk, it's not as easy-”

“that's why i'll never give up on you! i love you!” jimin can see the tips of his wings, his ears turn red, before a softer outburst of “hyung, don't give up…”

“to be very honest, i do practice someti-”

“then you do that! i'll scold the angels in charge if they don't let you debut this concert,” jeongguk's pulling out his phone, angrily punching the screen. “just wait, i'll wingsapp them right this instant-”

a small world, whereby two of jimin's good friends, taehyung and hoseok were already dancers for the angel teams, and they were more than delighted to rope jimin in. in tandem to jeongguk's furious texting, the bright duo had gotten jimin a spot with a little wing tugging; hoseok was the most experienced and choreographer of the angels, and taehyung was an impeccable visual sensation that they couldn't do without. the former having pastel green wings with a fluorescent dash of yellow (like a sprite bottle logo for the humans), while taehyung had holographic wide wings that ranked second in school. seokjin's wingspan remained unrivalled since the school's humble beginnings.

jimin is someone practices so hard on his own to get something right, make it perfect. he knows he's good on his feet, but being more foreign at flying that his peers translates to being mmensely lacking in routines done in the air, since his wings cannot sufficiently lift him to do certain stunts. however, in spite of the pitiful looks behind his back, the team collectively feel that he deserves to have a stage to himself, with minimal gimmicks for him to do what his heart desires. they've even gotten prosthetic wing extensions measured for him so he can twirl in the air with panache, just to fuel the full fantasy. he couldn't be more grateful.

jimin's nervous, it’s a full house tonight, since this repertoire was to commemorate the dance club’s 100th anniversary, and he's scared as hell (yes, to that extent) that he might mess it up. he hears the audience clap to welcome him to the stage, hears the emcee angels announce his name. looks at his white shoes with the silver buckles to match his all white ensemble, sees the red velvet curtains open to reveal his act. it's so, so nerve wracking.

the audience goes dead silent as he starts to sing along to the audio of promise, moving across the stage in heart fluttering steps. in minimal movement, but massive enough to exude and evoke the message of the tender and sweet song; never moving quicker than a saunter, but dainty and graceful enough to have all eyes on him. with poise and elegance, jimin skitters across the platform, lost in himself, in his own dream.

the dream ends when he realises the audience is cheering for him, and he's awake. he's not dreaming. he bows, making his exit quickly, running backstage to get water. he's been so nervous his throat’s gone all dry.

he wasn't expecting this at all- given the third act after the opening, it signified he was a mere extra, a filler for the grander stages towards the end. but his heart is full. grateful, appreciative for the opportunity. the backstage is buzzing with a flurry of activity, feather glitter, charisma potions, elaborate costumes. while finding his water, jimin spies a single mother angel desperately trying to get her baby to hush as she touches up the makeup of the act after the current one, and he finds himself unconsciously walking to the infant.

“i can take care of her for now, if you would like,” he whispers, motioning to the bawling infant the mother tries to balance, brushes and sponge threatening to fall in the other hand. she frowns, not knowing if he would abduct her child, but after he flashes his special pass to the nursery, her voice floods with relief and thanks. the team that just ended has returned, and the backstage angels are even busier now. it's a break for the audience too, so the props, clothings and cosmetics have to be reassigned quickly.

“just let me love you,” jimin serenades the baby, rocking the tearful bundle in his arms into one of joy. he's tickling the baby as he cradles her, swaying while caressing away the tears, a featherlight touch on her smooth complexion, feels her tiny, tiny palm grasp his finger, her entire hand only big enough to wrap around his pinky. “let me love, let me love you.”

he's been too absorbed in her to notice that the ruckus in the background had died down, now a low murmur, side eyes at him, finger pointing. some hearts coloured with jealousy, some with admiration. all jimin sees is the pretty pink heart of the infant as she gurgles, laughing as she holds his pinky finger.

“who sang that!” an angel holding a clipboard, pen tucked behind his ear comes flying in, hollers into the room, simmering the gossiping but fueling the blame, the fingers, the stares. everybody's busy with their own set of things to do, and for jimin, it's sitting at a discreet corner taking care of the baby girl until her mother is done with her job. “who sang that!” the angel repeats, voice agitated as nobody answers. from the lanyard, it seems like he's part of the production crew.

“it's him! the one holding the baby!” dome one whistle blows, following by a succession of accusing fingers, some finally pinpointing the culprit as ‘park jimin’. “it's jimin! the small one there!”

oblivious, he was still playing peekaboo with her, until the production staff marched over. “you over there!” it's only when jimin sees a large shadow loom over him that he realises the man is addressing him, and he swallows. the man looks really aggressive- did he mess up his stage?

“y-yes sir?”

“your mic was still on, angel.” his tone is monotonous, face straight. jimin can't tell if he's going to get into trouble. plus, it only hits him as his free hand traces the corner of his mouth to feel the mic still on. totally not used to it, he'd forgotten to take it off as he faded into the background, and nobody had reminded him to, assuming he was part of the next batch of performances as backup.

“i'm so sorry sir!” he says a little louder, worried to wake the baby up, but also wanting to convey his ardent apologies for any disruption caused. “i'm so sorry! did i-”

“do you have any upcoming item?”

“no, sir- i don't understand, are you removing my title? i'm so sorry, i-”

“can you perform for the encore piece?” the man pinches his nose, sighing heavily, “there's been an accident with one of the grand stages, and the audience were heard asking whose voice they heard through the speakers during the interval break.”

“but i'm not prepared, i don't have anything to wear-”

“i'll get you something. can you do it? you have about forty minutes to get everything up.”

“sir, i'm not-”

“he can!” taehyung and hoseok holler from the far end, “he'll do it!”

jimin doesn't even need to change. he's still in his white billowy outfit and prosthetic wings. all he needs is a touch up, recording, and some silver embellishments to make it seem like it was a preplanned outfit change.

he's not as tense as he steps onto the familiar stage. the same velvet curtains, the same sea of faces and wings. it's the little routine he'd danced for jeongguk in his room, the one jeongguk had told him was the awesomest item he'd seen in his life.

when you call me,

i become your flower

his feet carry him on his own. this time, he drifts; in the vastness of the sea, openness of the heavens. the calm of a forest, the rise of a new dawn. as he makes himself through the gorgeous slow burn of serendipity, he finds himself entranced in his own fluidity, his own aura. finds himself ascend, his feet lift off the ground more than a few millimetres.

i'm scared, just as much as my heart flutters

because destiny keeps getting jealous of us

“tinkerbell!”

there's someone in the crowd, the last row of the auditorium, shouting and waving furiously at him. it's jeonggukie, jimin thinks, and the thought itself makes him glow, makes his face radiate like beams of sunshine. “tinkerbell!” the voice comes again, “wings!”

when you see me,

when you touch me

he wonders if he's hallucinating, feet not touching any surface, shoulders taut, heavy. a glance behind him makes him panic mid-movement, when he sees the prosthetics have fallen. the tingling on his back becomes more eminent; the angels watching him are standing and clapping for him. he doesn't really notice until the silence to the end of his song completely transits into a standing ovation, and he wonders what jeongguk was yelling about. my wings? he's more mesmerised by the bubbles they've blown into the air for him as special effects, busy trying to pop one.

the universe has moved for us,

without missing a single thing

because our happiness has been planned

it's only after he bows a full ninety degrees that he realises his prosthetic wings and some of the feathers from his tiny wings have shedded. the mirrors from the sides of the stage show him that his wings are now a beautifully bloomed blush pink-

‘cause you love me,

and i love you

the audience loved him so much.

“jungoo is sad! so! sad!” jeongguk stomps, when he realises how happy jimin looks with his dad’s bouquet, signed off with ‘to my lovely son’ and received after the concert, and he's whining and mumbling about how “it's been a while and i'm so sad! so sad!” because he's he spent all his remaining allowance on the ticket for the recital and he doesn't have money for a present. sneaking in backstage, “h-hoseokie hyung? i know this is shameful of me, and i didn't get you any flowers either, but i just- jiminnie hyung looks so happy with the flowers and i don't have money! could you please show me that magic trick you always do at the parties? please, pretty please? the one you do the spell to turn something like a pencil or a stick into a flower-” he's desperate as he pleads with his eyes and his voice, and hoseok sighs dreamily, wryly recollecting about young love .

“aw, look at you, gukkie! our little gukkie is all worried about the boy he likes~”

“please, hyung, you're my best hyung-”

“don't worry about it, we've all been in love and had someone we wanted to impress, right?” mine just happens to be someone devoted to another. a boy whose major scales never harmonised with my minor keys; we’d clash. “bring me an empty water bottle, i'll teach you how to make a small bouquet…”

jimin is still having a hard time processing what just happened, choosing to capture the whole experience in a looped memory polaroid, so he can relive the moment in the future. he's too overwhelmed by everything- his own performance, his good boy shoes, his dad’s bouquet, the audience clapping for him. his wings. it's so much to process. and his body is fully exhausted.

“t-tinkerbell hyung!” jeongguk's running to him, cupping his whole body into a tight hug, “you were so beautiful! i got you flowers!”

it makes jimin cry, to know that he is so loved.

“jiminnie hyung,” jeongguk pouts, using his sleeve to wipe away jimin's tears and runny nose, “now everybody likes you and i have to share…”

while waiting for the bath, he's busy taking off the glitter on his eyes when jimin spots jeongguk frantically covering up one side of his shirt. “what's wrong, love?” jeongguk's suddenly gone all red.

“h-hyung, promise not to laugh, okay?” jimin pinky promised him, “i. um. i bust a wing watching you dance so i, uh, i ripped my shirt.”

jimin's mouth parts, eyes utterly dumbfounded and endeared. “jeongguk-ah, you what? ”

“i said! i said i bust-”

it's a very chaste but very soft kiss.

“i'll dance for you whenever you want, you don't have to get so excited…”

jimin mends it for him by sewing after he washes up, claiming he's all sweaty and smelly from the intensity of the stage lights. (it's not true!!! tinkerbell hyung always smells like a fairy!!!)

it's awkward when jimin attempts to do so, but better than taking off his shirt. a button pops alongside the underarm tear, so he has to open his legs and let jimin sit in between his v formation of the two outstretched legs, little towel on his head to dry his hair.

(how is he supposed to not bust the other wing when jimin juts out his lips in concentration when he sews?! and speaks to himself on which stitch and which direction to go?!)

“are you tired, baby? you're sitting so stiff,” jeongguk just mumbles something about ‘embarrassing’ and ‘lovely’, so jimin tells him he can rest on his shoulder if he feels tired.

“hyung, if you don't wake up now, i'm! i'm going to kiss you-”

jimin's eyes are closed as he slurs back, heavy with sleep, “suddenly i don't wanna get up…”

“you meanie! i was just-”

and jimin's beautiful eyes flutter open, meeting a very flushed jeongguk watching over him, before he props himself up on his elbows to give jeongguk a peck on the cheek. “good morning, love,” he pulls jeongguk down again by the neck, snuggling into the pillows.

“that was a morning peck, where's my morning kiss-”

“-min hyung? jimin hyung! what were you thinking about? i've been calling you five times already,” jeongguk sulks, “at least tell me you're busy…”

“ah. to be very honest, i was um. thinking about you.” their hands find their way together somehow, as always; it's like a natural, spontaneous reaction. just like waking up every morning and washing up, brushing your teeth.

“was thinking of how to impress you,” jimin mumbles to himself, looking at his feet, “you probably love me even more than i do, so-”

“you liar! i'm the one that should be worried, now every angel is talking about you! and, and- and they will steal you, because tinkerbell hyung is the cutest…”

“oh no,” jimin sighs, eyes drooping as he cups jeongguk's cheeks, “i'm jeonggukie's, nobody's going to change that…” jeongguk kisses the palms at his cheeks, making jimin shy. “you promise? to be mine?”

“of course! if u don't marry jeonggukie, who will i marry?”

one of the main reasons why the school is split into four divisions, was to fuel healthy competition and recreation. the main event of the year would be annual sports day, where factions would gear up in multiple physical activities as well as tally up examinable scores. the main attraction was usually the cube.

it's been some time since jimin has mastered the art of flying, and to most that do not know him, he's the best combat angel they have in the ‘94 and ‘95 batches. he's flexible and has good sense of balance. regardless of needing a specific criteria for wingspan to participate in certain tournaments without being weighted down by prosthetics, jimin's foundation on foot had laid a solid base for his strategic counter. in air to air combat, angels usually fail when weighed down by extensions, since they lack control of parts not belonging to their own bodies. in jimin's case, he only spars for recreational purposes, with the minimum wing size working in his favour.

he's flexible, thus the additional weight strapped to his wings allow him to make quicker and sharper somersaults in the air to slip past his opponents quickly. he wins every year for the treasure hunt even in teams, and the angels find him both a mystery and a paradox. looks loved but relatively smaller wings. looks weak but terribly strong in combat. looks feminine but has a ballerino’s thunder thighs. looks delicate but cracks instead of shattering, and grows flowers through the cracks.

during combat tournaments, it is the usual rule to  be allowed to place bets for those with student leader titles, for example class presidents, councillors, facilitators. house points would be doubled or deducted based on who emerged victorious, and their bets need not necessarily be from their house. bets could be placed by the student body as groups rather than individuals, for instance as a collective class or extracurricular activity group or club.

“i want to challenge the winner of the previous age category.”

“we cannot approve such a request for a match against an upperclassman, jeongguk ssi, as devastating as it might sound, as we do not have the authority to approve it.”

“i just want to prove that age superiority should be a construct, and angels should win by merit-” i want to prove to myself that i'm good enough for jimin, too.

“i'm sorry, dearest, but we cannot approve such a bold move. unless-”

“i'm betting my halo.”

everything goes dead quiet, until the emcees liven it up, setting the crowd at the edge of their seat.

“the one made in 1997 will be up against han sanghyuk, representing slytherin, in 1995!” the female emcees, sana and dahyun are all having a blast whilst announcing the lineups.

“in other words, doesn't it mean whichever side wins, victory will go to slytherin?” jihyo muses into the microphone, sliding in as third of the emcee panel, “if jeongguk ssi wins, double to ravenclaw and slytherin, but if sanghyuk ssi wins-”

“-then prefect jimin ssi will have his titles stripped off, with the same number of points as an ordinary match to slytherin.”

the spectators gasp, with cacophonous oohs and ahs , “so the person that stands to gain the most and the least, is ultimately jimin ssi.”

“but this has been the first time in 7 angel years someone younger has challenged a sunbae from an upper class! we need to keep this exciting-”

“so, sanghyuk ssi, what will you be betting on? if you win, what would you like?”

“triple the score.”

“wahoo! this is getting exciting!” the angels in charge of tabulation are already inking their words into truth on the scoreboard. once written, it is irrevocable- an angel’s words in official contexts are not to be taken lightly.

“and jeongguk ssi?” he can feel the beads of sweat pooling and dripping down, with the whole hall of people surrounding the battlecube staring at him, in anticipation, in excitement. it's not something he can step down from- it's both his and jimin's name on the line; although simple magic could easily erase certain memories if things got out of hand.

“i'm betting with my feelings for jimin hyung.”

the crowd goes completely silent once more, the only sound reverberating is the scratch of the sacred quill against the holographic scoreboard. it's been decided that this will be a hidden object match- not only must they pin the other opponent down for five seconds, but they must also find jimin's halo within the digital tiles of all six sides of the aqua tinted glass cube. it's a magically curated portal independent to the crowd, transparent for viewing pleasures, and if one criteria isn't attained, there is a penalty incurred as well.

ten minutes are given for each worthy opponent to change into their battalion gear, and jimin takes the time to give jeongguk a small pep talk, sneaking into the changing rooms. the crowds are already chanting his name, the thunderous echo of jeon jeongguk! jeon jeongguk! filling his ears. it's nerve wracking, but it also fills his veins with a more heated burning desire than ever.

“jeongguk-ah!” jimin whizzes in, taking his combat outfit in, before blushing. he's wearing an all black latex suit with neon blue streaks, the top barely enough fabric to cover his chest, leaving his toned washboard abs on display. jimin almost sobs at how attractive this is. the pants are a shiny sort of woven spandex, allowing flexibility with aesthetic. “you're really-”

“why, is this your type, hyung?” he gets beaten with shy small fists, but he picks jimin up in his arms anyway. “hyung, you know that if i lose, then-”

then i'll never be able to remember how much i felt, how much i love you. a bet was a bet.

“as much as i like him, you will win!” jimin's eyes are shining, full of earnestness and faith. complete trust and absolute love. “you can do it, jeonggukie. come back and make me proud,”

the buzzer goes off for one minute till showdown, and jeongguk can finally hear the anticipation, feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins, coursing through like a wildfire. he's ready.

“it's not everyday somebody gambles their halo up for a wager, you know-”

jeongguk makes their lips meet, for a brief moment in time, and jimin undeniably melts, except for the pout on his face. “i don't mind losing my titles, but i want the best outcome for you. i love you. i hope you win, jeonggukie. come home safely, honey.”

with that, he's running away (yes, jeongguk can hear the squeaky toy noises) back to the panel where the prized possession must sit, and await his unbeknownst fate about to be laid down in the commencing match in the battlecube. moments before stepping into the cube does jeongguk realise that jimin had told him the same words he had envisioned to hear when they were married, with two children.

the battlecube is mainly soundproof to rid of distractions, but jeongguk swears he only hears jimin shouting at the top of his lungs for him- his usually giggly and shy tinkerbell hyung that only dares to speak his mind around people he truly feels at ease with cheering for him. he finds jimin's halo at the third turn of the panels on the walls of the cube, hearing the screams from outside penetrate through, activating the sparring battle itself since the item had been retrieved. both of them go straight for each other, tied in terms of no technical knockouts, but via total damage inflicted, jeongguk emerges triumphant.

jeongguk doesn't even know he's won, can't seem to let it sink in, when the only thing he sees is jimin's tears of joy, jimin running down the spectators benches with a wing in his step, softly fluttering down to greet him. the crowds and their various bets, the rankings being flipped over, whatever the speakers are blasting no longer matter.

“i won because of your halo, hyung.”

“i was so worried-”

“you cheered so loudly for me- of course i had to win!”

“it's not that i wanted you to win… it's just- i gave you my halo! and if i get kicked out of the council, who's going to allocate us into the same room for camp next year?”

oh dear. jeongguk thinks he just fell for jimin for the thousandth and thirteenth time.

“jeongguk ssi, can we have your winning speech?” he gets ushered to the platform during the prize presentation, the previous year's winner, wonho presenting him his bouquet and medal. jeongguk can only see red and green when wonho motions for jimin to stand in between them for the photo, to which jimin becomes shy and smiley. so what if wonho had nice muscles? he has them too!

“ahem. jeongguk ssi? your winning speech? just a few words will do, for formality-” the female angel in charge of ushering the winners one by one urges him on, in order to follow through with the schedule.

“tinker- jimin hyung is mine!”

it's been a year since the love letter, so jeongguk's decided to bring jimin out on a date, so a special, special place. they're there early, and even thoigh night has fallen, the stars aren't out. even after a languid lounging and talking after their picnic, his shoulders slump, and he looks dejected.

“i planned to take you out stargazing, hyung- but there are no stars today.” he's disappointed, clearly. “and i wanted today to be perfect! it was supposed to be so romantic-”

jimin scoots in closer, rests his head on jeongguk's shoulder as the sit on the cloud, hand running a soothing touch on his thigh to comfort him. “when i'm with you i'm already the happiest i can be, jeongguk-ah.”

jeongguk's heart hammers, and something in his mind tells him that it's time. it's time that he bring this up. when people decide to get married, decided that they've found their soulmate, their one and only, the two angels would exchange their hearts. to hold each other's hearts in them, as an eternal, unbreakable vow. if one angel perishes, the other will too, binded by thick and thin. however, each individual was granted one chance to swap their hearts back, a second chance, should they realise their partner is not their ‘true love’. in theory, it worked like that, which is why everyone guards their hearts. of course, there was now advancements in medical procedures, and the angel courts to rule on a case by case basis, but those were the exceptions.

“jimin, would you like to exchange your heart with mine?” jeongguk says the very words, the Vow, that every person had to say before their heart would be revealed to the other. you only had one heart, and a second chance to exchange hearts with another could result in death, as hearts were now entwined as one.

he can see jimin's heart glowing from his chest, a blinding white melded with a hue of gold. hovering above his hand. white for innocence and purity, a very pure and untainted love. gold meaning ‘for eternity’. jimin's heart glows so brightly it's beautiful. so mesmerising and alluring.

he sees jimin's eyes sparkle as his turns out to be a deep burgundy, an irrevocable love, rimmed with gold. it's so beautiful jimin can feel the wetness prick at his eyes.

now come to me- come and let’s become a “we”.

“i do.” he tells jeongguk, promptly exchanging the equivalent of their life force. it's something so major yet minor, so literally superficial but figuratively intimate.

“jimin-ah, your heart is so heavy, how did you carry all this? it's seriously so heavy, like how much love do you actually have in you? this is crazy-”

“jeonggukie's heart is beating so fast in my chest,” jimin reports, falling over onto a cloud as he covers his face in his small hands, “does your heart always race this quick when you're talking to me, jeongguk-ah? this is not very healthy either-”

the stars are in the sky,
we are flying-
this isn’t a dream;
don’t be nervous, hold my hand-
now we’re becoming a “we”.

the heart thumping in his heart starts to pump even faster at the endearment, causing both of them to bury their faces somewhere. it's so intimate and yet so embarrassing- to hold your lover's heart in your own chest. it's such a beautiful symbolism passed down from the beginning of the angels reign.

they're lying on the fluffy clouds, a secret recluse up in the high heavens. a spot that not many would know of, the way humans would go to a quiet spot in the forest, or a calmer part of a beach. humans get to see splendid things like waterfalls and seashells and foliage, but up here they get to see the stars whizz past them and do their meteor magic, dance around them on clouds as if playing them a highlight reel.

maybe it's the providence of the universe, that's how it is.

“does this mean i can't wear my heart on my sleeve anymore, jeonggukie? because it's yours now…”

“oh no,” jeongguk mumbles, attacked by jimin's adorable murmur, “hyung, can we get married on the moon? because the moon is pretty like you. and taehyung hyung said that there are rabbit fairies on the moon! we can make them best bunnies and flower bunnies, and the moon fairies, the fairycubs-”

jeongguk lets his ramble sink in, into the clouds between them, and before he knows it, jimin starts tumbling at him, like a little meteor catapulted straight for his embrace. jimin is good at putting up fronts, but he gets terribly shy so very easily.

“jungoogie is my euphoria.” he says into jeongguk's chest, where his heart now lies. the stars whizz by, as if a firework display to congratulate them. “i know its a very human way of showing your bond, but um… tinkerbell hyung, i got these- they're forged by cupid and company so it's reliable-” and jimin kisses him, can feel jeongguk’s heart beating so fast in his chest; it’s a pair of couple rings in a velvet heart shaped box, platinum with a black band in the centre.

“jeongguk… oh no…” jimin takes out a similar velvet box, showing him an identical set of couple rings. “i wanted to propose first…”

in that moment, it seemed like the universe was moving just for them, and them alone- the two that found their destiny. since the creation of the universe, everything was destined.

“i already told him i’d go to the moon with him.”

“we're getting married, right there, on the moon.”

( through the infinite centuries and beyond, in the previous life- and maybe the next too;

we’re eternally together. )