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“Look,” Namjoon says softly, gesturing forward with the tilt of his head, “Tae seems to be enjoying himself.”
Jimin cuts his gaze across the stage, his vision filling with Tae. He looked so incredibly happy, dancing away to the beat of the closing music like nothing could ever hurt him. Something about it made the blonde haired boy still, his heart lifting into his throat and choking him.
It was such a difference from their last award show. Jimin thought of their last award ceremony as a living nightmare; seeing the love of your life having to cry into someone else’s arms… it was torture. Every reminder of it was a needle to his skin. Seeing him happy hurt just as much but in a different way like a balloon of joy was expanding beneath his ribcage until it was painful.
“Jimin!” Tae calls, his body swaying to the hum of the music. He’d found himself a startlingly pink bow to wear on his head, the colour settling pleasantly in his peach hair.
Jimin manages a smile, tilting his head at his boyfriend's approach. That word still left a weird taste in his mouth, even if he’d only thought it. Boyfriends. Him and Kim Taehyung. It was so different but in a weird and wonderful way. “You alright?”
Tae smiles as he gets closer, the corners taking on an almost predatory edge. His lips are always so rosy and pretty, like a pink lady apple hanging delicately on its branch. The sight makes Jimin want to taste them. He makes a mental note to do so later.
“I’m fine,” Tae hums, his hand crawling over Jimin’s waist and tugging him forward in a tight grip. Jimin knows how much larger Tae’s hands are than his, he spent years comparing them to his own in the breathy moments after their nights together. Jimin would slip his small fingers between Tae’s and bring his hand to his mouth, pressing gentle kisses to the skin and committing it to memory.
Regardless, that doesn’t make it any less intoxicating when Tae flattens his fingers over his skin, the pads of his thumbs tracing over the contours of his waist.
Jimin drops his head, his gaze settling on the delicious sway of Tae’s hips.
“What are you thinking about?” Jimin murmurs, his lips twitching into a smile when Tae’s other hand finds its way to his hips too.
“You,” he breathes, so calm like he didn’t know that response would make Jimin’s heartbeat run away from him.
Jimin lifts his head, catching the hungry gaze on Tae’s face before he can hide it from him — from the camera’s probably steered toward them.
He’s being reckless today, and Jimin can’t bring himself to stop him.
Jimin slips his hands up over his chest, settling them like delicate feathers below the plunged neckline of his shirt. It’s all he can do that won’t get him in trouble. If they were alone he might’ve slipped his hands into Tae’s hair, pulling until he keened in his arms.
“Of course,” Jimin says, teasing. He finds himself smiling as Tae turns on the beat, his body settling against the curve of Jimin’s hips. Instinctively Jimin’s hand finds its way to Tae’s shoulder, his fingers aggravatingly close to his throat but, to Tae’s dismay, not venturing there.
Tae is feeling adventurous but that doesn’t mean Jimin will join him. Their fans are smarter than they’d first given them credit for. When Jimin was a little too touchy and Tae’s cheeks went a little too red, people noticed. Not only did they notice but they’d write about it. Jimin had seen endless tweets about them, more often than not analysing them correctly. They shouldn’t really encourage it but apparently, Tae doesn’t care about that now.
“Come here often?” he asks, leaning in with a soft laugh and that beautiful smile Jimin had seen the world fall for. It’s a secret privilege to know that smile is really just for him.
Tae leans in again to continue but whatever he says next is lost to Jimin when Tae pushes backwards ever so slightly, the touch between their bodies pulling his attention downward on a wire. The small gap Tae had allowed is lost beneath the press of their bodies — the heat between them becoming too much and too little all at once.
It’s downright sinful, the innocent sway of Tae’s hips like he has no knowledge of the power he holds. Maybe that makes Jimin a little weak and very, very horny, but the tempting press of V’s backside against his crotch has stolen his focus. The skin of Tae’s neck, only inches from his lips, is also starting to become a distraction. He knows that if he reached forward ever so slightly with his mouth and blew warmly over Tae’s pulse point, then he’d whimper. It’s his sensitive spot — the one thing that’s guaranteed to send him over the edge. Jimin loves it and the sounds it elicits from him.
Tae tilts his head back, smiling a little too hard. He’s sensed the shameful shift of Jimin’s thoughts from something playful to something else. It gives him a devious purpose. Matching the swing of Jimin’s hips so that they wouldn’t part, he pushes back a little harder. The pretty gasp he hears spurs him on but Jimin takes a knowing step back — drumming warning fingers on the base of the taller boy’s throat. The careful show of dominance sends shivers down Tae’s spine.
Their dynamic is something he’s seen fans question. At their debut, Tae was so soft in comparison to Jimin that it was always assumed Jimin was the one in the front seat. But they don’t look the same now. Tae ditched the rounded glasses and boyish hair for something new, more mysterious and “delicious” in Jimin’s words.
The shift in looks had never really shifted their dynamic though. It had never been about who was more sexually controlling than the other, but more so who was the biggest tease, and right now, that is undoubtedly Tae.
Tae gives him a lazy smile over his shoulder and sticks out his tongue.
Jimin lifts his gaze from the still small gap between them and meets Tae’s eyes. The message is clear without saying. Jimin has given him this stare after concerts when Tae had been a little bit more provocative, or after interviews when he couldn’t help but squeeze Jimin’s thigh for a bit too long.
Later , was what Jimin was saying. We’ll continue this later .