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Pristine white tablecloths, cream coloured walls, and the muted shades of finery worn by guests of the gala. Colours everywhere. But nowhere the spot of yellow he was scanning the ballroom for. The bright ray of sunshine that could get him through this night of stiff formalities and awkward small talk.
“We’re so glad you decided to stay on and practise in the community, Jungkook.”
Jungkook snapped his attention back to the circle of very important and distinguished people he was supposed to be engaged with in conversation. He hoped it wasn’t too obvious how he’d been craning his neck, searching.
“We need new, young doctors like you.”
A petite woman in a respectable grey dress, plastic smile pasted on, was the one who’d addressed him. Some local politician on some committee who made healthcare decisions for the area, though the majority of her job seemed to be recruiting doctors, which was the only reason he knew her.
Yeah, she would be glad he stayed, though it had nothing to do with her harassment (any more than five unsolicited emails and a personal visit surely counted as harassment, even if she came bearing free lunch).
“Um, yeah,” he said stiltedly. “I’m glad too.”
It was about all he could manage with every eye in the circle on him. He’d met most of them at some point or another, if not at tonight’s med gala then at some other function, but all together they were just an indistinct mass of faces made up of healthcare professionals and prominent community members in fancy formal wear.
How had he wound up ensnared in this group? Where had all his friends from work gone? That would have made the situation manageable and made him feel less like he was being evaluated by a panel. Evaluated for what, he still had no idea, but it didn’t stop his palms from sweating and his collar growing hot.
“I wonder what finally persuaded you. You seemed to think you’d rather leave in the beginning,” Respectable Grey Dress mused, mouth pursed primly in expectation.
Jimin , he thought.
“Oh, you know,” he said, eyes avoiding hers. Was she fishing for credit? Trying to look good in front of the others for scoring the town a new doctor? Over her head he started scanning the room again desperately. “There’s the docks.”
“The docks?” The question was uncertain. It might’ve even been someone else who’d spoken up this time, but Jungkook couldn’t meet any of their inquiring gazes.
Fuck.
He hadn’t given them an acceptable answer. But nothing near the truth would be acceptable to this crowd. He was still looking anywhere but at them, his words backed up like he’d been hardwired wrong when they set up his voice box. But eventually he’d have to say something, stop stalling.
There. A spot of yellow, tucked away in a quiet corner, bright and unmistakable, and suddenly he could breathe again.
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook turned to his panel of judges one last time. “I have to go check on my—my partner. He hasn’t been feeling well.”
There was an understanding buzz from the group, but he was already moving away without really hearing their replies, weaving through the crowd and skirting anything or anyone that might impede his path.
His breath caught in his throat, not for the first time that night, as he made his way over to the quiet corner. Jimin was always beautiful, but tonight he was particularly stunning. Even sitting in a corner, he was making heads turn as they passed him, poised regally—back straight, legs crossed, and hands folded around a glass in his lap.
The glass held only water, he knew, even without seeing the contents. Jimin wouldn’t put more strain on his body by asking it to filter alcohol out of his system, even if he sometimes he missed it. As a result, Jungkook rarely drank now either, though strangely he didn’t miss it.
Alcohol had always been a means to numb his nerves at social events, but he’d found that Jimin’s presence worked better to calm him anyway. And he didn’t like drinking if Jimin had to remain sober.
So he didn’t miss it. And tonight the sight of Jimin was plenty to drink in on its own. He was dressed all in yellow. Flowing yellow skirt and long-sleeved yellow crop top revealing just enough of his small waist to remain acceptable for a function like this. And with his plush pink lips and signature smoky eyes making his half-lidded gaze even weightier, it was no wonder he drew so much attention.
If looks could kill… or was the expression ‘dressed to kill’? Either way he was killing it. Killing Jungkook with how good he looked tonight.
A dazzling smile overtook his features when Jimin turned at his approach. Jungkook felt the corners of his own lips lift automatically, and some of the tension that had built up in his shoulders over the course of the evening eased. Warmth chasing away any lingering stiffness.
“How are you feeling?” he asked as he set a hand over Jimin’s shoulder, stroking his thumb over the exposed skin near his neck. The gentle touch was automatic—a comfort as much as it was meant to be comforting.
Jimin, head tilted back to meet his eyes where he stood over him, hummed.
“I’m alright. I told you I only wanted to sit for a bit and you didn’t have to worry.”
“I know.” Jungkook slid his hand up to cup his cheek, and Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut as he sighed. “But without you there… and me fraternizing…”
Jimin opened his eyes and peered up at him.
“You say fraternizing like you’re surrounded by enemies.”
Jungkook swallowed.
“It was a lot.”
They stared at each other a moment, Jungkook still a little awed no matter how much he indulged in the sight of him, mapping out even the smallest details of his face. It wasn’t even about how glamorous he’d made himself for the gala.
Even on days when Jimin felt too sick to dress up—hair tousled from sleep, eyes puffy and makeup-free, and only wearing one of Jungkook’s overlarge shirts and pair of boxers—Jungkook could never get enough. Even when he’d whine and refuse to uncurl from the nest he’d made of their bed.
Since he’d finally convinced Jimin to move into his new (much nicer) apartment with him, he’d gotten to see so many different sides of him, and every day he was grateful for it.
Jimin covered his hand with his own and turned to press a kiss and a smile into the center of his palm.
“So you used checking on me as an excuse to save yourself?” Jimin murmured, tickling the tender skin there with his lips, eyes sparkling and teasing. Jungkook’s fingers twitched where they rested against his cheek.
“It’s not—it’s not an excuse ,” he began, tugging their hands down and joining them. “I don’t need an excuse to want to be with you.”
“Oh, love,” Jimin sighed, but he sounded endeared rather than exasperated, and he was still smiling. “Do you want me to really save you from this night?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “God, yes.”
Jimin laughed and stood up carefully, hand snaking up his arm to settle firmly on his shoulder. Jungkook held himself still, shoulders squared to offer the best support, and resisted the urge to wrap an arm around Jimin’s waist to touch the warm skin there—knowing Jimin wouldn’t want him to restrict his movements by clinging onto him in this moment, especially if he felt dizzy enough that he was relying on Jungkook to help ground him.
That was something else he’d learned being with Jimin. A new code to follow when the right conditions were met. But it felt natural now.
Jimin steered them, even as Jungkook continued to offer his shoulder for stability, to a group chatting over drinks at the edge of the open ballroom. Somehow he’d easily found the doctors from their hospital, the friends Jungkook had lost, as if he had radar as some special sixth sense of his.
Lina—Jimin’s Dr. Pavic—saw them approach and raised her wine glass in greeting.
Jungkook’s first impressions of her had been spot on. She had quickly become one of his favourite people in the town and not just to work with. She didn’t mince her words, and Jungkook appreciated the directness, never in doubt of where he stood with her.
He hadn’t worked with her directly since he’d finished his residency, but instead they found ways to catch up at the hospital or out of it. It helped that she knew Jimin and liked him too, though there were few who weren’t charmed by Jimin after knowing him.
“There you are!” she exclaimed. “I was wondering where Jungkook had retreated to.”
Jimin laughed effortlessly and replied for them both, “Although I wouldn’t put it past him, I have to take responsibility this time. I’m not feeling well, so I asked him to take me home.”
He had done no such thing, but Lina was immediately sympathetic. As his doctor, she was well aware of Jimin’s health, and his needs that occasionally took priority.
“That’s a shame. Rest well, and I hope you both enjoyed the night despite it being cut short.”
Jungkook thanked her, and with a few words to the rest of the group, most of which Jimin handled, they were ducking out of the gala chased by well-wishes. It was much earlier than Jungkook could have hoped to sneak out on his own, and he was filled by warm gratitude.
~~~
Jimin tugged Jungkook after him, giggling and giddy, along the docks and to the end of the wharf. He didn’t have a reason for his glee other than the night, the place, and how good the yellow of his outfit looked against the black of Jungkook’s suit.
He didn’t need more reason than being here with Jungkook. Cool air off the ocean ruffled his hair, smelling of sea and salt, and the dimming evening light bathed their skin in warm hues.
Jungkook raised his eyebrows at him but he followed easily. Pulling him in close, Jimin rested a hand on his waist, the other on his chest.
“Dance with me,” he demanded with another grin and giggle, throwing his head back.
“I thought you weren’t feeling well,” Jungkook said as he nevertheless wrapped his arms around him, steadying him. “Did you just lie?”
The question was fond rather than accusatory, and Jimin could hear the trace of a smile in his voice, even if he couldn’t see past his own wide smile.
When he could finally see past his eyelids, Jungkook was indeed smiling. It was one of Jimin’s favourites where his eyes scrunched in the corners and his bunny teeth poked out.
Because it was a favourite, he wanted to devour it.
“Only for you,” Jimin whispered conspiratorially, leaning forward to kiss the smile from his face and swallow it down with the breath Jungkook sighed against his lips. Their lips moved against each other lazily until Jimin pulled away gently to nuzzle into the crook of Jungkook’s neck.
He began singing a song, slurring through the words he didn’t know, but the words weren’t important in this moment. Just the rhythm as he swayed them both in a pseudo dance. It was enough as long as they moved together. Jungkook hummed with him.
After rocking quietly for a while, Jimin confessed, “I didn’t really lie though. I figured we were both at the end of what we could handle for the night.”
Jungkook had looked more than a little overwhelmed by the time he’d found Jimin, but he hadn’t been the only one ready to leave. Jimin had promised to save him, but as always Jungkook gave as much as he got or more. Jimin relied on those strong shoulders more than he’d like, but he’d accepted it.
The only time he’d seen Jungkook truly angry was in the early days of their relationship when he’d continually, stubbornly refused his help when he could have really used it, and he had no desire to repeat the experience. He’d learned that trust went both ways, and that meant that Jimin had to be honest with him about what he needed, just as he expected the same openness from Jungkook.
So they found ways to grow together, and Jimin wasn’t afraid to lean on him anymore.
“You doing okay?”
“Just getting tired. The fatigue is definitely going to hit me later. A little dizzy.” He paused. “This is nice though.”
“Just tell me if you get too tired.” Jungkook’s grip on him tightened, grounding when it felt like his head was ready to float away. “I’ve got you.”
“I know,” he said, burying a secret smile into Jungkook’s shoulder. He knew they’d followed the same line of thought. “Carry me home?”
Jungkook scoffed a little and pulled them apart to look down at him.
“So you’re fine to dance, but you suddenly can’t walk the few blocks to our apartment?”
“Are you saying you won’t?” Jimin challenged, giving his best pout.
Jungkook dove in and pecked at his pout in rapid succession until it disappeared with a bright, squeaky laugh. He had already been dizzy and lightheaded, but now he just felt light in the arms of the man he loved so, so much.
“I never said that,” Jungkook said when he eventually pulled back from his onslaught of Jimin’s lips.
“Good. That way I might have some energy left over for other things when we get home.”
“Other things?”
Jimin caught him up in another kiss, but poured a lot more heat into this one, snaking a hand up to tangle in his hair and pressing their bodies together firmly. Jungkook opened up to him and he took full advantage. Tasting him. Swelling up against him. Tongue probing. Jungkook breathed in sharply through his nose, and pushed back harder. Jimin let himself get lost in the familiar push and pull.
Then, with one final lick of his tongue past his lips, Jimin slid the hand that had been resting on Jungkook’s waist down to give his butt a firm, suggestive squeeze and pulled away. Jungkook panted and knocked their foreheads together.
“Other things,” Jimin confirmed playfully.
“Oh, those kinds of other things,” Jungkook said, voice still a little breathy. “On. Get on.”
He wasted no time crouching down, presenting his back and holding his arms out behind him. Jimin happily glomped onto him in victory, chest to back, arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders, knees tucked up around his waist pulling the fabric of his skirt tight. Jungkook caught his thighs and straightened, causing a familiar swoop to tickle his lower belly. Jimin loved how effortlessly Jungkook always bore his weight, loved the feeling of warmth and security.
“Make sure you hold onto me,” Jungkook told him as he began briskly walking them home, as if Jimin didn’t already have a koala’s hold on him.
Jimin took just a moment to look back over his shoulder at the receding docks and gently rocking rows of boats. The little white boat he always looked for wasn’t there, but he took a moment to look regardless, before returning his face to the crook of Jungkook’s neck and tightening his grip.
He planted a lingering kiss there and whispered, “Don’t worry. I always do.” And he was expressing so much more with those words than what was said out loud, but he knew Jungkook understood.
His quiet, “I love you too,” only confirmed it.
It’d been a long time since Jungkook had to worry about Jimin letting him go.