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“Hello,” Jungkook said. “Are you busy?”
Not that it was strange for Jungkook to haunt the halls at night, but he had arrived at Jimin’s door like a wet puppy pawing in a rainstorm. His hair fluffed at odd angles and his fingers hooked together, a stark figure cutting against the dim hotel lights in his favored I’m-Worried-About-Something black shirt. His I-Just-Like-This-Shirt black shirt had the key difference of an extra inch of hem.
“I can make time.” Jimin opened his door, trying to act like he’d been terribly busy and would afford time for Jungkook specifically, and not that he’d been lying flat on his bed, hunting for Korok seeds on his Switch.
Jungkook took the helm on the hotel chair. Jimin retired to the bed, sitting against the headboard and tucking his game underneath a voluminous pillow.
“Did you eat too much?” Jimin asked. “Does your stomach hurt?”
“I’ve never eaten too much in my life,” Jungkook said. “No, it’s about my boyfriend.”
“Oh.” Jimin drew his knees to his chest and rested a thumb against his lips. A good friend would always make time for Jungkook’s woes, but a heavy feeling dropped in his stomach. He cooled his expression, though, and said, “You’ve been having problems with your boyfriend?”
Jungkook’s expression slacked, but he nodded in a quick burst.
A year ago, Jungkook began dating his first boyfriend. Jungkook had been largely aloof and private with his girlfriends, almost sullen when questioned about how did his date go, where did they go, did he have fun. So it had been a surprise, on multiple levels, when Jungkook came to Jimin’s room that night and told him, in broken sentences, that he had finally managed to confess—and his new boyfriend had said okay, but he wasn’t really sure if it was an ‘okay’ as an obligation okay, or if it was true affection, and if it was affection, it wasn’t just ordinary skinship, if he hadn’t misinterpreted the signs—he was happy, really happy, to start dating him, because he’d waited for so long, or at least according to him, to even say anything, but he wanted to be sure—but Jimin was his friend, and he trusted in Jimin’s opinion, and so he just needed to know—
Jimin, bewildered, had waited in somewhat dumbfounded silence until Jungkook had wound down. He recalled giving him an apple because the fruit had been on his desk. While Jungkook tore the apple apart in two bites, Jimin had reassured him that yes, it would be fine, the affection was real, to be afraid at the beginning of a relationship was normal, but it was nothing the two of them couldn’t work out together. He believed in Jungkook. That was his honesty.
Unfortunately, Jungkook had taken the reassurances as approval to continue his continuous orbit. Jimin technically shouldn’t have been surprised when he opened the door to see Jungkook standing there, sometimes confident, sometimes shifting his weight from foot to foot. But he couldn’t help but to usher Jungkook inside his room and share his bottled water until Jungkook felt better, even if Jimin tugged on his sleeves to cover his hands the entire time Jungkook talked.
Jimin ran his fingers through his hair, hiding his face behind his raised knees. “Has your boyfriend been treating you—badly?”
“What do you mean?” Jungkook stared at him. Jimin only had turned on the two hotel lamps for light. They had a muted, yellow glow, and the shadows on Jungkook’s face shifted in weight with every word. Sometimes Jungkook’s earring would glitter, catching Jimin’s attention to his ears, his jaw, his nose, his parted mouth.
“I don’t know.” Jimin snapped himself from his reverie by pinching his thigh, hard. “Maybe he’s been pressuring you, or making you uncomfortable.”
“No, it’s not that. He doesn’t do that, even if he’s sometimes a bit childish.” Jungkook clasped his hands together. Impressive for Jungkook to be the one to say ‘childish,’ at least. Jimin had definitely watched Jungkook spend an hour with Namjoon, trying to dissect why the past tense of yeet was yeeted and not yetted, which should have only taken a fifteen minute discussion if Namjoon had not modestly introduced his take on yoted.
“You can always talk with Namjoon or Hoseok about this, too,” Jimin said, speaking of their fearless leader. Jungkook blinked at the suggestion, a disappointed flicker of his eyes.
“I can’t talk to you?”
“Of course you can tell me anything,” Jimin said, kneading his stiff comforter. He caught the sheen of Jungkook’s eyes and the lean smile on his face, which stirred a response from his chest. Jimin tucked his toes underneath his feet and braced himself for the next onslaught. The passage of time flowed like an undercurrent, too indiscreet for Jimin to identify when he started to sense Jungkook’s presence as a force in his room, a presence with his strong biceps and broad chest, cheeky smile almost a shadow on his placid expressions.
“It’s just.” Jungkook’s hands worked on each other, running over the slopes of his knuckles. “My boyfriend is just too cute.”
“Excuse me?”
“He’s just too cute.” Jungkook broke apart his grip and rubbed his neck, inclining his gaze down at the off-white carpet strands. “He’s really cute, and it’s really troubling me. He’s acting more and more spoiled and I like it too much.”
“He’s,” Jimin struggled. “Is it—spoiled, as in he won’t help with the chores? You can have a discussion with him. It’s okay to talk about what you want from your relationship.”
“No, it’s not like that.” Jungkook’s neck rubbing intensified. “It’s that he’s cute, way too cute. Before this trip, he had stayed over a night in my apartment, but I had to leave to buy things at the convenience store. But when I came back, he was still in bed.”
“You wanted him to clean? Or to have helped you carry your bags?” Jimin grasped at the pithy options, and was rewarded with Jungkook’s vague frown.
“No, he cleans up before he leaves, even though I don’t ask him. I’m used to lovey-dovey stuff, but it wasn’t like that. He was lying in bed when I came back like he knew I wouldn’t even put anything in the fridge without seeing him first, and his hair was really mussed up and he looked really sleepy, but he looked at me and.” Jungkook’s hand rested on his neck, and his eyes darted. “And he just licked his lips and looked at me and I know he wanted me to come back to bed and he didn’t even say anything, he just did it and gave me a look and he was just really cute so I had to get under the blankets and kiss him.”
Jimin slumped inwards, hiding his expression in the crook of his arm, but Jungkook was unstoppable. He possessed vigor before only seen at the gym.
“And then said I wasn’t there when he woke up, and he said it really sulky and sleepy. When I said I did that on purpose, even though I didn’t, to see if he’d get mad, he just said he deserved a reward for putting up with me and he tugged at my sweatshirt and when I took it off and gave it to him, he immediately put it on and it was too big for him, but he sniffed the collar to make sure it still smelled like me, and then he looked at the bag of chips I got, so I had to feed him like he was a small animal, and he didn’t even move until I brought the whole chip to his mouth and then he’d take it delicately between his teeth and nibbled on it and just licked at my fingers until he got tired and used my arm as a pillow and told me not to move this time and went back to sleep.”
“Jungkook,” Jimin said.
Jungkook, at some point, had leapt up from his seat and paced in circles around the bed. At his name, he looked at Jimin. What he saw must have surprised him, because in one big step he had bounded onto the hotel bed. The stiff mattress gave way to his weight, the thick pillows shifting like slow boulders towards the new indentation. His eyes were wide and his shirt loosened enough to reveal his collarbones.
“Please,” Jimin said. “Don’t ever tell Namjoon or Hoseok this.”
“Maybe I will,” Jungkook said. “This is a big problem for me, you know. My boyfriend is just too cute and I don’t know how to handle it.”
“It’s not funny.”
“Then why are you smiling, Jimin-ssi?” Jungkook scooted closer, shoving aside the pillow and even part of the comforter until he nearly sat on Jimin’s feet. Jimin tried to hide his face again in his arms, but Jungkook pushed them away easily.
“It doesn’t sound like a big problem,” Jimin said.
“It’s a very big problem. Hey, why is my boyfriend so cute?” Jungkook grinned. “I’ve never known anyone to be so spoiled and shameless.”
“Please don’t say shameless.”
“Why not? How else would you describe what he did this morning?” Jungkook bent until he was whispering in Jimin’s ear, a tickle along his lobe. “When I accidentally fell asleep again and woke up and he was playing on his phone, except he’d wrapped his arms around me even though it’d make it harder to play his game that he really likes, and he wouldn’t let me go until I kissed him again.”
“That’s not shameless!” Jimin shoved his hand against Jungkook’s cheek, which did not deter him from leaning forward.
“Certainly, Jimin-ssi. I’ll admit you’re not shameless at all, if you say you don’t want me to kiss you now.”
“That’s childish.” Jimin lowered his hands and rested them on his lap. Jungkook smiled, shifting from his toothy grin to an almost angelic innocence. His bare arms leaned against Jimin’s legs, his muscles taut from where he rested mostly on his own weight. He must have done his laundry only a day ago because he smelled like clean fabric softener. Jimin, restless, finally pulled at the short sleeve of the t-shirt. “Why are you waiting? Kiss me already.”
Jungkook laughed and obliged. He pressed a chaste kiss on his mouth, his lips soft and giving. He drew back with a smug smirk, but Jimin only frowned.
“That doesn’t count,” Jimin said. “Do it again.”
“You want me to what?”
“Do it again.”
“Sorry, do what again?” Jungkook tilted his head as if he was acting cute. Which he was, absolutely cute, with his big cute eyes and huge cute grin. But Jimin yanked him closer by his shirt and kissed him with an open mouth, sucking on his tongue and shifting his fingers into Jungkook’s shorter hair by the nape of his neck.
“I don’t know why you keep doing this,” Jimin said, brushing his hair in the mirror later. Jungkook had taken his place on the bed, glued to the Switch.
“Because I’m better than you at defeating the Guardians.” Jungkook’s fingers moved swift over the buttons. “And then you can go back to finding your Korok seeds, since you like doing that.”
“That’s not true. And no, I’m not talking about that.” Jimin poked at Jungkook until he vacated space on the bed, enough so Jimin could shimmy under the comforter and rest on two forfeited pillows. “Why you always say ‘my boyfriend’ when you can just talk directly to me. I never understood that from the first time you did this.”
He’d been occupied with his own thoughts when Jungkook approached him, tentatively, about dating. His head had been abuzz and his heart alight, full of trepidation and affection. But still, unless love warped his wall clock, only ten minutes had passed before Jungkook had come knocking again, this time to retell his dramatic confession scene with embellishments, even though the only person who could riddle holes through his reenactment stood in front of him.
“It makes sense.” Jungkook sorted through Jimin’s inventory with threatening speed. “There are some things that are harder to tell your boyfriend than your friend. And we didn’t stop being friends just because we started dating.”
“Why are you still doing this, then?”
“The more I realize I like you, the more I want us to be better friends, too.” Jungkook put down the game on his lap for a moment to look him in the eye. “And the cuteness is really a problem.”
“Is that so, maybe I’ll stop being so cute, then.”
“Impossible.” Jungkook’s fingers never stopped moving. Jimin elbowed him in the side, but too much muscle blocked his way.
“Well, maybe I’ll tell my good friend, Jeon Jungkook, that I like him a lot better than my boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook.” Now this received a rise like Jimin had wanted. Jungkook stopped the game, though not before artfully saving his progress, and turned to him with solemn offense.
“That’s not true, right?” Jungkook fenced Jimin against the bed, brow furrowing. “I’m the better one, right?”
So it really was true, after all. Having a boyfriend be too cute was a big problem. Jimin plastered on his best acting face, a hint of a smile already cracking. Fortunately, Jungkook seemed to be too competitive against himself to notice.
“I guess I’ll have to see,” Jimin said. “If only there was a way to tell, like to see who’s a better kisser.” Jungkook was already moving before the end of his sentence.
Jimin suspected Jungkook would return to his door soon after this with yet another opinion about his boyfriend. Like, whatever his boyfriend wanted, his boyfriend got, and wasn’t that unfair, Jimin.
Somehow, Jimin suspected he too would fail to find this as a problem.