Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Marry me.”

It’s short, brief and blunt. The words are concise, and absolutely nothing about the situation is at all romantic. Jimin looks up from where he’s standing by the kitchen sink, wondering if he's heard correctly. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, wrists soapy and hands–thankfully–empty. If Taehyung had spoken a second sooner, Jimin might have dropped a plate or two in shock. 

“What?” 

To say that Jimin is a little stunned would be an understatement. He stands there, gawking at Taehyung openly in disbelief. The younger of the two carefully sets the knife in his hands down. An assortment of fresh vegetables is pushed to the side, chopped and sliced to perfection. 

“Marry me,” Taehyung says, repeating himself as he slides his chair back and pushes himself up onto his feet. He looks a little sheepish, an embarrassed sort of smile taking hold of his features as he seems to realize the fact that he hasn’t quite thought this through yet. But he means it—clumsy as it is. 

They’ve been dating for a few years now, roughly five maybe, and Jimin would have his head for not remembering the exact date of their anniversary, but how is Taehyung supposed to remember much of anything, let alone numbers and dates when most of his mind is occupied with Jimin? How is he to remember passing digits on a calendar, when every crevice of his mind is filled to the brim with the feel of Jimin’s hands in his own and with the twinkle of his laughter? 

Taehyung’s never been good at remembering anniversaries, but he thinks he might be, if Jimin says yes. 

“Really, Taehyung?” Jimin breathes out a laugh, holding up both of his hands. They're covered in soapy suds, pruny from the water. His heart feels like it’s trying to beat right out of his rib cage, but the overall nonchalance of the atmosphere is the only thing that still manages to keep his nerves somewhat calm. “Right now?”

Taehyung shrugs slowly, making his way over Jimin. He’s got a shy and flustered, lopsided smile over his lips and it makes Jimin’s heart ache fondly.

“Now’s as good a time as any other, I think," Taehyung says, a smile dimpling at his cheek. He brushes past the countertop, the tips of his fingers gliding along the edge of the linoleum surface. 

Jimin looks stunned, and he swallows hard. He’d cry if it weren’t for the absolutely ridiculous spontaneity of the entire thing. “Is it?” His voice is soft, and if his words come out slightly watery, neither of them laugh at it. 

Smiling gently, grin teetering on the edge of embarrassment, Taehyung nods shyly and leans his hip against the countertop, eyes impossibly fond as he stares at his beloved. He hesitates, nervous, then says again, “Marry me, Park Jimin. Make me a happy man.”

“I thought I already made you happy,” Jimin says weakly, lowering his soapy hands to rest them against the edge of the sink, more to steady himself than anything else. His guard begins to lower itself, vulnerability shining through, and God, he'd sworn to himself he'd never cry if this day were to come. 

“Make me even happier, then,” Taehyung says softly, breathing out a laugh. He bites his lip and smiles, eyes warm. His voice drops a little. “Be my forever, Jimin. Grow old with me.”

Jimin stares up at him, his soft smile veering towards this end of being shy. 

“I’ve been thinking about it, and,” Taehyung says, pushing away from the countertop to take a step closer towards Jimin, and then another. “I can’t think of anything I want more than this, Jimin. More than you—there’s nothing. I could give up everything I have, but not having you by my side could quite literally kill m—”

“Hush. Don’t say that,” Jimin cuts in, voice dropping to a whisper. His eyes are fond, so fond. 

“I could give up everything in this life for you; anything but you,” Taehyung says, swallowing thickly. Up close like this, Jimin can see the nervousness in the other’s eyes, and can feel it in the way Taehyung’s hands tremble the slightest bit when he goes to take Jimin’s damp hands into his own. “I miss you so terribly all the time.”

“I’m always here, pretty," Jimin murmurs, squeezing Taehyung’s hands. 

“And I miss you even when you’re here,” Taehyung says, lips pushing out into the faintest of pouts. “At every moment of every day.”

“Just watch; you’d grow tired of me,” Jimin teases, threading their fingers together as he draws the younger closer; he tips his head back to look up at his boyfriend. 

“I could never grow tired of you,” Taehyung murmurs. “I love you too much; I’m—what is it, enchanted. Bewitched. Body, mind and soul.”

“Isn’t that what Mister Darcy says?” Jimin interrupts, breathing out a giddy giggle. His heart is running circuits around his chest.

“Maybe,” Taehyung says, grinning. “But you have bewitched me anyway; body and soul. And I love, I love, I love you.”

There's a pause, a stuttering heart beat. 

“God, Jimin,” Taehyung whispers— pleads. "Will you marry me?" He takes in a slow, shaky breath, and pulls Jimin in until he can press their foreheads together, until he can bring Jimin’s hands up and kiss the soap suds away from his knuckles. 

"I'll be so good to you," Taehyung murmurs. "I'll let you win every argument and let you steal the covers every night."

Jimin laughs, and the sound is wet, heavy with the tears he refuses to shed because he will not cry while being proposed to next to the kitchen sink. He shan’t. “Gosh, you’ve got soap all over your mouth, silly,” he whispers. “How am I supposed to say yes when you've got bubbles over your mouth?"

“Then, if I asked you again," Taehyung says, pausing. He stops beside Jimin and rests a hand against the small of his back, fingertips lightly tracing along the base of his spine. “Somewhere else maybe, would you say yes?”

There’s a brief moment of silence as Jimin stares up at his boyfriend, amusement and unshed tears glistening like diamonds in the honeyed brown depths of his eyes. “I would, yeah," he says softly.

“No take-backs,” Taehyung warns gently, grinning, before he leans in to steal a kiss, Jimin's soapy hands coming up to clutch at his shirt.

"No take-backs," Jimin murmurs, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards into a grin when their lips meet, as Taehyung's mouth presses a soft, gentle pressure over his own. 

It's a testament to Jimin's constant, subconscious concerns over their electricity and water bills that he has enough of a presence of mind to reach back and turn off the water, dishes left momentarily forgotten.

Taehyung's thinly julienned veggies are left on their own as well, bearing the only witness to Jimin's delighted giggle as Taehyung hoists him up over his own shoulder and carries him out of the small, cramped kitchen and into the bedroom. 

Taehyung proposes again the following weekend, down on one knee. This time, he prepares flowers, lights the tealights and takes him out to dinner. This time, it's a lot less clumsy and a lot more cliché, and it's everything Jimin's ever seen in movies and everything he’s ever dreamt of, and yeah. 

Maybe Jimin finally cries when he sobs out a broken 'yes'. Just a little. 

〰️

"I've got wonky fingers," Jimin says one day, thinking aloud. He spreads his hand open and stretches his fingers apart, studying the way the sunlight bounces off of the slim, silver band wrapped around his ring finger. 

Their apartment is small and their bedroom window overlooks the brick of the neighbouring building. The sunlight that filters into the room almost feels as though it's teasing its warmth, the light hindered by the lack of open window space. 

He's been awake for the better part of the last hour, his attention diverting from the book in his hands to the ring every so often. Truth be told, he still can't seem to believe it; he stares at the delicate piece of jewellery like it'll fade away if he blinks or looks away for a moment too long. 

They'd had a brief, small wedding a little over a week ago. Their families had been there, of course, and a few of their closest friends. It had been a quiet, cozy affair in the countryside, a short distance away from the farmland that's been owned by Taehyung's family for generations. 

"I love your wonky fingers," comes the soft reply. Taehyung's voice is laced with sleep, scratchy and heavy. He rolls over and the mattress dips beneath his weight. 

"Do you?" Jimin asks, bemused, as he looks down at the younger. The glasses perched atop the bridge of his nose have scratches along the corner of one of the lenses. His hair is tousled, faint golden sunlight showing off all of the perfect little imperfections that adorn his skin. The sight of him makes Taehyung's chest feel tight and he shifts a little closer, smiling.

"I do," Taehyung murmurs, reaching over to rest a hand over Jimin's outstretched one. He rests his palm over the back of Jimin's hand and watches the way his fingers dwarf the other's with a fond chuckle. 

Taehyung stares at their joined hands for a moment, at their matching rings side by siden, before he pulls Jimin’s hand down towards himself and presses a lingering kiss over the latter’s knuckles. He teases his lips over the pad of each finger and then gives his hand a little squeeze. 

“I love everything about you,” Taehyung murmurs, quietly, like a clandestine confirmation. 

"How much?" Jimin challenges all of a sudden, an impish, coy smile tugging upwards at the corners of his lips as he taps his index finger against the soft pillow of Taehyung's lips. 

"Mm," Taehyung hums thoughtfully and looks off to the side, pretending to think about it. "Very much, I think." 

"You think ," Jimin echoes, brows arching and smile deepening. 

"I think so, yes," Taehyung says, smiling playfully as he moves to sit up. His hair curls upwards, static pulling it up at the ends after a night of tossing and turning against the pillows. “I do believe that I love you quite a lot.”

"Oh, is that so?" Jimin teases, cooing playfully at him as he reaches over, tickling his fingers along the underside of Taehyung's chin with a grin. “In that case, I guess I kind of like you, too. Maybe a little bit. I think I’d say you’re quite alright.”

“Now that’s just mean; don’t make me revoke your Husband Card,” Taehyung threatens, no bite at all to his words as he ducks his head down and pretends to bite at Jimin's fingertips. 

"You wouldn't dare," Jimin says, laughing as he pulls his hand back and sticks his tongue out at his husband. His husband ; amazing. The thought of it sends a shiver of delight down his spine. 

"I so would," Taehyung says, smiling even through a pout as he moves to kneel on the bed, reaching for Jimin's hands so that he can draw him in closer despite Jimin's ensuing squeal and laughter as Taehyung wrestles him down onto the mattress and attacks him with a multitude of kisses. 

For the first time in years, Taehyung is late to work. 

He can't bring himself to care, heart full and footsteps light as he pulls on his chef apron and gets to work.

〰️

Taehyung steps out of the kitchen through the backdoor, in need of a break and a few gulps of fresh air. Pots and pans continue to clang together loudly until he closes the door after himself, shutting out the noise. 

Now, instead of the heavy scent of spices and alluring aromas, instead of the banging cutlery and the impatient annoyance of the head chef, Taehyung's senses become filled with the scent of fresh, crisp autumn air. He can hear the traffic piling up nearby, the car horns and whirring engines. 

Wiping his hands against his apron, Taehyung settles down for a breather, perching himself atop one of the many storage crates kept outside in the back alley of the restaurant. He stretches his legs out a bit and tips his head back, looking up towards the sky. 

The sun is at its zenith, beating down over his brow and drawing beads of perspiration over his skin despite the cool, November breeze. It's midday, and Taehyung mentally counts down the hours to the end of his workday; he's asked to leave work early today in lieu of his and Jimin's second anniversary. 

Sometimes, Taehyung isn't sure where all the time has gone. He and Jimin have gone from being high school sweethearts to college lovers, to a married couple, yet every day still feels like it's the first. It's like nothing's changed, even with the passage of time. Enough time has gone by that Taehyung's slowly working his way up to being promised a position as the sous chef; he's almost there, but not quite. His pay is better than it used to be, and he thinks that he and Jimin might soon be able to move out of their dingy studio apartment with its leaky walls and shitty plumbing.

Jimin's found his calling as a teacher as well– he loves his job with the children. He's so, so good at it, and Taehyung’s always been so proud of him. Taehyung loves those times of the week when his days off overlap with Jimin's weekdays; he loves being able to go to the school and pick Jimin up from work, loves to see the kids he's grown familiar with over this past year, and tries not to think too much about the way those visits leave his heart aching for something.

Thinking back, as he mulls over the past seven years and long winters, Taehyung smiles to himself, glancing down at the phone in his hands. 

12:17 PM. 

Just two more hours and he'll be able to go and pick Jimin up from work for the day; the effect that realization has on him is almost instant, nerves buzzing and heart afloat. He's practically beaming at his seafood stock, grinning into the pot as he stirs in the spice. 

.

Jimin takes in a deep breath and feels his shoulders relax. He stops waving goodbye to his second graders and falls onto his chair. 

His hair is a little unkempt from running his hands through it several times during the day, spotted necktie pulled loose so that he can breathe more easily. He rests his head back against the chair and closes his eyes for a few seconds as he takes a brief moment to unwind, fingers tapping out a rhythmic beat against the desk. 

He can still hear excited chatter and hurried footsteps outside as students exit their classrooms and make a run for the freedom of the weekend. Children of this particular age can be quite the handful and Jimin finds himself craving the arrival of each weekend perhaps more than his students do. He tries not to think of the homeworks he has to grade and the projects he has to assess, willing his mind to shut down for a few minutes until a soft knock sounds against the door. 

Cracking an eye open, Jimin glances over in vague curiosity before he sits up straighter, as though provided with an instant, invisible source of energy at the arrival of the newcomer. 

"Hey, stranger." 

Taehyung leans against the doorway and grins. He rests his head against the doorframe and lifts a hand in greeting, wiggling his fingers in a playful hello . 

Jimin breaks into a smile that mirrors Taehyung's, holding his arms out for the other as he turns a little in his swivel chair. "Ah, there he is; the love of my life," he sings, beckoning the younger over with a grin that dimples his cheeks sweetly and makes his eyes twinkle with renewed vitality. 

Laughing, Taehyung pushes away from the door and makes his way over, clapping his hands down over Jimin's before grasping them tightly and using the new leverage to tug Jimin up to his feet firmly. He ducks down and pecks his lips as Jimin comes up into a standing position. 

"I've come to rescue you from this cold, grey, academic prison," Taehyung coos, pecking Jimin's lips again with a slight pout over his mouth. "Got a couple of bottles of your favourite wine in the car too, for tonight."

Laughing, Jimin squeezes his hands and leans up a little to drop a kiss over the tip of Taehyung's nose. He grins playfully, teasing, "You really know how to seduce a man, huh?" 

"King of seduction—that's me," Taehyung says, managing to put on a straight face even as he takes a step back and then another, pulling Jimin along. 

"Wait," Jimin protests, giggling a little as he pulls away and quickly collects his bag and the folder of homework assignments to correct. Door locked and lights turned off, Jimin slips his hand back into Taehyung's as they exit the classroom and then the school, but not without a few distractions along the way.

Jimin's a popular favourite at the school, adored by staff and students alike, but what really holds them up on their way out is the number of students that recognise and greet Taehyung excitedly. A few seven and eight year olds even run over to hug his waist, waiting for highfives and an affectionate pat over their heads in return. 

Taehyung has a bit of a reputation around here, especially with Jimin's students, for being the good looking uncle that often comes around and brings 'Jiminie' and all the kids snacks and hands out stickers and candy. They adore him almost as much as Jimin does, and Taehyung can't help but think once again, how this is one of his favourite parts of the week. 

.

Dinner's a sordid affair. 

They'd come home, expecting to get changed and go right out to celebrate the occasion at a restaurant—the kind of restaurant that requires reservations to be made weeks in advance. 

In true Jimin and Taehyung fashion, however, they end up foregoing the outing entirely. Instead, they end up choosing to spend the remainder of the day curled up on their too-small bed in their matching, checked pajamas. 

They clear out the space over their shared desk, so that the wall above it is given an unobstructed view for their impromptu movie night. Laptop connected to their projector, they watch The Notebook for the umpteenth time—an anniversary tradition. 

One of the fluorescent bulbs flickers, signalling a reminder that it needs to be changed out. The hum of the air conditioner is loud, its built-in fan whirring steadily in the background; the air that circulates the room is surprisingly weak in comparison to how loud the air conditioner is, but then again – their apartment is old and this building is even older. 

They'd moved in together their second year of college, having put together their savings towards the rental deposit. At the time, nothing could dissuade them; the idea of a shared apartment, of living together in downtown Seoul near their school had seemed nothing less than wonderful. 

Now though, out of college, married, and juggling full time jobs, they find themselves wondering if it's worth the upkeep in trying to maintain the failing air conditioners and faulty pipes. 

"I've found a couple of studio apartments worth looking into," Jimin says, half way through the movie. He swirls the glass of wine cradled in his hand and throws a sidelong glance at Taehyung. 

"Yeah?" Taehyung looks over, interest piqued. 

"Yeah," Jimin says, snuggling in closer. The dinner Taehyung had made for them is half eaten, the remainder running cold on the bedside table next to their emptied plates and used cutlery. "Not too expensive, and the buildings are a lot newer than this one." 

"This one smells like ass," Taehyung mutters, woeful, as Jimin giggles.

The night is young and their list of movies is long. Somewhere into their second shared bottle of wine, mid-way through About Time , Taehyung shifts a little closer, seeking warmth. 

He's sleepy, belly full and heart content, lips still buzzing from the onslaught of kisses Jimin had pressed over his mouth during the entirety of Before Sunrise . His blunt nails idly scratch over the taut skin of Jimin's tummy, their pajamas having found their way to the floor hours ago. His mind drifts, gaze unfocused as he stares at the projector film. 

"I want kids," Taehyung says suddenly, voice soft and quiet and pensive as he traces invisible patterns down Jimin's bare chest with the tip of his index finger. It's sudden and unprompted, unrelated to the way Rachel McAdams smiles at the male lead as they talk to one another at an exhibit.

If Jimin feels startled, he doesn't show it, masking his surprise with a blink and an equally quiet, "okay," as he brings his hand up to rest over Taehyung's. 

Taehyung glances up at that and Jimin's breath catches at the way the most beautiful smile positively blooms over Taehyung's features. 

"Really?" Taehyung asks, biting down over his bottom lip. 

Jimin has always wanted what Taehyung wants. So, it comes easily, when he opens his mouth and says, "Yeah. Sure. Let's look into adoption agencies this week."

Three weeks later, they fall utterly, irrevocably in love with Jiwoo, and with all of the stars in her eyes.

〰️

“Taehyung, she’s wonderful,” Jimin whispers, leaning over the cot to look at the baby. He reaches over, tracing an invisible line down the soft curve of her cheek as he smiles gently. 

Jiwoo's small for her age, even at just four months old. Here, Jiwoo is the youngest child waiting for a new home, but Jimin and Taehyung had felt an instant connection to her when they'd first seen her two months ago. 

“It's cute how she actually, sort of, looks like you,” Taehyung says, his hands finding their way around Jimin’s waist as he pulls the latter to his chest.

“You've said that about every baby we've seen,” Jimin says, snorting. He twists his back to look up at Taehyung and elbows him lightly against the chest.

“That’s ‘cause you’re my baby,” Taehyung says solemnly. “Besides, they’re all so cute and like, round."

Jimin sputters at that, indignant, and elbows Taehyung again, sharply. “Are you implying that I'm round?”

“Like a grape,” Taehyung affirms, nodding soberly even as he lifts a hand to rub at the now-tender spot over his chest. 

The documents regarding the adoption process weigh heavy in his hands, more metaphorically than physically, echoing the heavy trepidation in both of their hearts. Their appointment with the adoption advisor had gone well, their application submitted and sent through— all that they could do now was to wait, to fill the days in between with their allotted visitation hours. 

Jimin turns around completely and rests his hands against Taehyung's chest, looking up at him with a hopelessly fond smile. He hooks a finger into the buttons of Taehyung's shirt, his smile softening. "I really can't wait to take her home, Taehyung."  

"Me too, Jim'nah," Taehyung murmurs, smiling faintly as he brings a hand up to absently fix Jimin's hair. "We'll get there one day. Someday soon. I know it." 

〰️

“We’re gonna need a new place,” Taehyung says one night, when Jimin is lying against Taehyung’s chest. The TV is muted, silent, moving pictures spilling a kaleidoscope of colours into the room. “For the baby, I mean."

Taehyung looks down at Jimin and away from the television screen. He stares at him, quiet and patient, before Jimin hums softly and tips his head back to look up at the younger, eyes soft and sleepy. Resting his head back down against the pillow, Taehyung offers him a small smile. 

"S'gonna cost a bit more than those apartments we'd looked at together," Jimin murmurs, resting his head back down over Taehyung's chest. He turns his attention back to the television, voice soft. "We only checked out studio apartments, didn't we?"

He sounds small, pensive, and more than a little hesitant. Not even three months ago, Jimin had been all too enthusiastic about moving out and into a newer neighbourhood. It’s not that Jimin has a problem with the idea of moving into a bigger space now , but they’re both tight on money, and the expected, added costs of raising a child were already beginning to sound a little daunting — even with both of them splitting expenses.

“Chef told me I might get promoted next month,” Taehyung says softly, like he can read Jimin’s mind. And he probably can, Jimin thinks. Taehyung’s always been able to read him like a book, has always known Jimin better than he knows himself. 

"He's been saying that for over a year, Taehyung," Jimin says, pulling away finally so that he can sit up and give Taehyung his complete attention. He looks worried, unsure. 

"It's for real this time," Taehyung says, pouting faintly. "We've both got enough saved up, I think, and...I think we can do it, Jimin. I think we should. We've got no room for Jiwoo here."

“Yeah? You think we'll manage?” Jimin asks quietly. 

Taehyung smiles faintly at that and wraps his arms around Jimin, drawing him into a hug. At first, Jimin resists, but then he melts into the touch, reaching up so that he’s able to push himself up and press his lips to Taehyung’s cheek. His lips are a bit cold, chapped against the softness of Taehyung’s skin, but the kiss brings warmth to the younger’s chest regardless, helps ease out the knots of worried anxiety in their tummies.

“I know so,” Taehyung murmurs, smiling small as his fingers twist into Jimin's shirt and pull gently.

〰️

"Hi, angel," Taehyung coos, rocking little Jiwoo in his arms. She sneezes softly and yawns, stretching out her little fingers and toes in discomfort as she tries to wriggle her way out of the cocoon of her blanket. 

"Restless little thing, isn't she," Jimin comments, amusement colouring his voice as he laughs, tickling the heel of her foot with his finger. 

"Think she just wants to go home now," Taehyung says, grinning. 

It's been four months since they'd filed for the adoption, and three weeks since they'd paid the deposit for a new, two-bedroom apartment. It's bigger, has windows that face the east and let the sunrise filter into the rooms. The air conditioner doesn't make noise in the middle of the night and the plumbing is brand new. 

"Is that it? Are you excited to come home, Jiwoo?" Jimin coos, leaning in to press his lips to the soft, swollen curve of both her cheeks.

She flails a little, startled by the sudden influx of kisses, and babbles loudly. 

"Think that's a yes," Taehyung giggles, passing her over gently and carefully as Jimin holds his hands out for her.

Scooping her into his arms, Jimin bounces her up a little and grins, nuzzling the tip of his nose against hers. Sneakered feet race against each other outside in the hallway, rubber soles squeaking against the linoleum floors as the other children play and laugh amongst themselves loudly. 

"We're gonna get your room ready this week," Jimin tells her, heart melting at the way she blinks up at him owlishly, not understanding a single word he says. "Think we might paint it purple; d'you think she'd like purple, Taehyung?"

"I think she might," Taehyung says, smiling fondly as he watches Jimin handle Jiwoo carefully. 

"Purple it is, then," Jimin says, with an air of finality. 

Jiwoo babbles again, a garbled, gurgling sound escaping her lips as she jumps a little, kicking her little feet with a delighted squeal and a toothy grin, the single crown of a half-erupted incisor barely just peeking through her lower gums. 

〰️

"Hold me," Taehyung orders, voice stern despite the pout pulling at his lips as he clutches onto the bars of the ladder for dear life. 

Jimin giggles despite doing as he's asked, one hand steadying the ladder and the other steadying Taehyung. He rests a palm against the small of his back and grins. 

Extending his arm as far up as it can go, Taehyung once again breathes out a curse regarding the too-high ceilings of the apartment, fingers trembling a little as he struggles to paint the nooks and crannies of the topmost corners of the walls. 

The entire project takes about a day, but when the finishing touches are done, they can finally sit back and take a deep breath.

The crown molding is painted a soft, faded grey that compliments the soft lavender over the walls. The wood flooring has been polished down, darkened to a deep, rich shade of brown that shines beneath their feet. The lighting fixtures have all been switched out, the ceiling lamp changed out in favour of a round, paper chandelier. A cute, yellow wall lamp sits opposite the window; it's shaped like a birdhouse, with little red strawberries painted across it. 

There's enough room for a small bed and a closet, both of which will come later, but for now, Taehyung breathes out a heavy sigh of relief and smiles giddily as he rests against the ladder and lets his eyes rake along the expanse of the room. 

"It looks perfect," he says, grinning and biting along his bottom lip. 

Jimin steps back into the room with two mugs of hot cocoa, purple paint drying over the palms of his hands and the denim of his jeans. He looks around in much the same way Taehyung does, their smiles mirroring each other as he hands the younger one of the mugs. 

"I like it," he says, with an air of finality. He brings the cup up to his lips and takes a sip, eyes twinkling with happiness as he turns around and looks up at Taehyung past the rim of the mug. 

"Me too," Jimin says, grinning fondly. 

"Great," Taehyung chirps, wiping his hands off on his stained jeans. "C’mon, I’m absolutely starving ."

Taehyung breaks apart the takeout chopsticks, rolling them together in between his hands to rid them of any splinters, before he hands the pair to Jimin. He receives a soft, 'thank you' in return, that he answers with a sweet smile, and he nudges the small pot of cooked noodles closer to the other. 

"Eat," he says gently, and Jimin looks over at him, smiling fondly. 

"You can have the egg," Jimin says quietly, lightly prodding at the soft boiled egg with his chopsticks, before pushing it closer to the side of the pot that's closest to Taehyung. 

"You don't want it?" Taehyung asks, looking a little taken aback. 

Jimin shrugs and brings the chopsticks up to his mouth, wrapping his lips around it and savouring the spice. "You like it more."

"You like it too," Taehyung says, pouting a little as he uses his chopsticks to break the egg right down the middle, splitting it in half. "There. Now we can both have the egg."

It's a simple, small act of giving, but it warms Jimin's chest anyway and makes him smile up at Taehyung helplessly. 

"I'd kiss you, but my mouth's burning," Jimin says, smiling sheepishly.

The TV provides a pleasant ambient noise, the heater humming quietly as the second hand on the wall clock steadily ticks away. The apartment is finally done, from the lavender and taupe bedrooms to the cozy, ivory walled living room. The kitchens are lined with soft, butter-yellow panels. All of the curtains are white, hemmed with the kind of gentle lace that flutters prettily whenever a breeze tickles its way into the rooms. 

Later, when they clear the dishes and wash up the pots and cutlery at the sink, they do it to the pleasant background of Taehyung's favourite playlist. Their hands meet underneath the running water every so often, dragging circles over the dishes with the sponge asTaehyung hooks his chin over Jimin's shoulder from behind.

The music lifts and dips, so truly a French classical in its style, and Taehyung dips his head to the side, brushing a kiss over the the curve of Jimin's neck. 

At one point, Jimin grins, and he gives his hips a playful little shimmy, swaying them in time to the music against the front of Taehyung's jeans. When he turns around, Taehyung is ready to greet him with a smile and a kiss.

Hands soapy and laughter effervescent in their chests, they slide their fingers together and step away from the sink in languid turns. They take a slow, lazy waltz around the kitchen, small but decorated with love. Little post-its litter the refrigerator, handwritten notes addressed to one another:

'Have a good day at work!'

'I love you.'

'Drink lots of water today!'

A bucket-list of their travel plans is taped to the wall, for some day when they have enough money to hop onto a plane and visit Paris and Vienna. Flowers and succulents sit on the window-sill, blossoming beautifully under Taehyung's delicate touch and devoted attention. 

They dance slowly, out of the kitchen and into the living room, where the moonlight shines just a little more brightly. 

It's like they have all the time in the world; just the two of them. Jimin presses his smile into the warmth of Taehyung's neck, leaning into him as the two of them dance in the middle of their dimly lit hall to the melody of violins.

It's a quiet moment, one of peace and tranquility, and Taehyung's heart soars when Jimin whispers an, 'I love you,' against the younger's heart. 

〰️

The adoption process takes a lot longer than they'd expected it to. Granted, they'd been told that newborn adoptions could take several years to go through, but the longer it takes, the more anxiety it induces. 

Jimin smiles softly as he reaches over and wipes some of the cream off of Jiwoo's chin. 

It's Jiwoo's second birthday, and while they’d been able to bring her home earlier in the year, after a nerve wracking several months, they’re yet to officiate the adoption. 

She's begun to mimic larger words, has picked up—on more than one occasion —the word 'Tata' in reference to Taehyung, and has most of her milk teeth. She holds up a spoon easily, smiling toothily around the soft cake in her mouth, and lifts up one, chubby hand in approval. 

"Jiwoo," Jimin starts, smiling gently as he pushes her hair away from her eyes. 

"Mm?" She looks up at him, smiling brightly. 

"Happy birthday, angel," he murmurs, tapping a finger against the very tip of her small, button nose, just as Taehyung returns from the canteen, small cartons of strawberry milk in his hands.

Over the last two years, they've gotten exponentially closer to her. Weekly visits turned into more frequent visits, until they were coming around most days, more often than not. They'd witnessed her first steps and all of her other firsts, including her teeth and her first word. The pre-placement period had stretched on forever, seemingly, and by the time their first home study had rolled around, the both of them were nauseated. 

It’s a long wait, but they’ve gotten to see her grow, at the foster home and then at their own, and with each passing day, the wait grows more and more unbearable.

Taehyung likes to pretend he hadn't teared up when she'd echoed back a singular, 'Dada,' after several weeks of trying. He likes to pretend he hadn't felt like crumbling when she'd started holding up her first set of crayons, scribbling over sheets of paper before handing them over to 'Dada'. 

"God, I love her," Jimin says later, sounding as small and as anxious as he feels. "I don't think I'll be able to sleep at night until this whole thing is over with. It's been so long."

Taehyung reaches out, over the table, and rests his hand atop Jimin's, squeezing gently in reassurance. "It'll work out. I just know it. I can feel it."

And it works, for a moment. It's reassuring. Jimin tears his eyes away from she plays well on her own and looks up at Taehyung, a small but fond smile pulling at his lips. He turns his palm over so that he can thread his fingers through Taehyung's, grasping the younger's hand more firmly. Jiwoo's delighted squeal can be heard from where they sit, the little pigtails atop her head bouncing a little as she clumsily runs towards the building blocks on the side table.

"You think so?" Jimin asks quietly, eyes locked on Taehyung's.

Truth be told, Taehyung is equally, if not more frightened. More than anyone, he's managed to develop a bond with Jiwoo that's almost magical, too special and too tender to lose, and the thought of things not working out make him feel sick to the stomach. 

Despite that, he swallows thickly and manages a smile, circling his thumb along the back of Jimin's hand. 

"I know so."

〰️

“Taehyung.”

Jimin's voice is muffled with static and Taehyung has to press the phone in closer, until it’s hurting against the end of his ear. He can hear the urgency in Jimin's voice, barely masked by the breathlessness of his words. 

"Yeah?" Taehyung asks, feeling his heart pick up its pace a little. Jimin rarely calls him at work, and Taehyung can't remember the last time Jimin's ever sounded this — desperate.

badump. badump. badump. 

"Tae, the— they just called." 

Taehyung feels the ground slip away from beneath his feet, feels his knees wobble as his hand comes down to grip at the edge of the steel work-table tightly. He holds his breath, every muscle in his body tense as he strains to listen. "Who called, Jimin?"

Pots and pans bang together loudly, and Taehyung can barely hear beneath the chaos. He grips his phone more tightly, feels his racing heart swell up in size, catching against the base of his throat in a lump that he struggles to swallow past. 

"The adoption—oh, my god. We're going to be dads," Jimin breathes, and Taehyung thinks that he can hear him sob. "Like, really be dads."

It takes Taehyung several, long seconds to realise that his own cheeks are damp; the breath he'd been holding in comes out in a relieved exhale that strips him of any and all remaining strength in his body. 

"Tae, can you hear me?" Jimin's voice sounds shaky and a little distant, like he's set the phone down and started pacing to calm his nerves. 

"Yeah," Taehyung breathes. He feels dizzy, light headed and— God, the relief . 

"Tete," Jimin starts, before he breathes out a giddy, shaky laugh. "She’s ours. She’s—she’s really ours. Our baby." 

"Two years," Jimin continues, barking out a laugh that borders on a tipsy giggle, drunk on relief and happiness. " Two fucking years ." 

"I'm coming home," Taehyung whispers, pushing away from the work-table as he tugs at the string of his apron and pulls it away from his waist. 

"But your shift—" 

"I'm calling out sick," Taehyung says, a little out of breath as he makes his way out of the pantry and into the main kitchen. It helps a little that he feels disoriented, looks a little pale and washed out, but he's out of the restaurant in another half hour. 

He'd hung up on the call earlier, haphazardly changing out of his white uniform into a pair of jeans and a too-large sweater that Jimin had knitted for him on his own a couple of years ago. The wool is well worn in, the threads having relaxed into a soft warmth that brushes over his skin like cotton. A few loose threads stick out here and there, the hole he'd picked into the hem having grown wider over the years.

Oh, the years. 

〰️

Despite her happy-go-lucky nature, Jiwoo's a quiet child. She's shy at first, and doesn't explore her surroundings the way most two and a half year olds do. 

It's not that she can't. 

She often manages to surprise the both of them with a quiet 'daddy', or 'I'm hungry' when they least expect it. More often than not, though, she isn't hungry. More often than not, she picks at the food on her plate and swings her little feet back and forth as Taehyung gently picks up her spoon and tries to coax her into taking a bite or two. It's a striking contrast to her rapid, clumsy speech from a few weeks ago, but Jimin and Taehyung had been warned that this might happen.

She's quieter, more hesitant than ever, and they chalk it up to the new house and the new environment— to a new life. 

They try to make it easier on her, bringing her toys and building blocks. They read to her and help her cultivate an interest in colouring. She's intelligent, learns big words relatively quickly, and memorizes names, numbers and colours easily. 

She's good with stacking together building blocks, has an affinity for rearranging things in a specific order, is quick to learn how to brush her teeth and hold chopsticks, but it still takes her a long time to get used to her newer surroundings. 

Everything she's ever known seems to have vanished. She's no longer surrounded by several other children, loud and rambunctious. There are no teachers and caregivers, no nannies or matrons, no men and women in suited blazers and heeled shoes that tap against the hard floors. 

Jimin and Taehyung hadn't counted on raising a child being this difficult, but things always seem to get worse before they can become better. 

And this— this was the part where things would get worse before they got better.

.

Jimin is frustrated. 

Jiwoo hasn't stopped crying for the better part of the last two hours, her face flushed from the effort of her wailing as well as the fever that hasn't come down all day. He isn't sure how to calm her down. Nothing seems to work; she won't eat, won't sleep. She just cries and cries and cries, until Jimin picks up his phone and calls Taehyung, hands shaking. 

"Where are you?" He asks, sounding strained, as soon as Taehyung answers the phone.

"Work? You know I'm at work." Taehyung's voice is muffled through the phone, and Jimin's irritation flares. 

"Jiwoo's sick," Jimin says, voice sharp. "She won't stop screaming, Taehyung, I don't know what to do."

"What did—" Taehyung starts, static filling the line, "What did the doctor say?" 

"You'd know if you were around," Jimin snaps. His temples are throbbing, and Jiwoo bawls harder in his arms. 

Taehyung makes a small noise of disbelief, a quiet sound of offence, before he argues back, annoyance audible in his voice, "Don't start, Jimin."

"I'm tired of having to do all of this alone, Taehyung!" Jimin raises his voice, and that only seems to spur on Jiwoo's screaming, her breaths coming out in strained hiccups. 

"You know how my job works, Jimin," Taehyung snaps, voice biting and hard. It's true; they both know how demanding it is to work in a kitchen. Now, as a sous chef, Taehyung gets to work at six in the morning and doesn't finish until closing hours, past ten at night. It's a hectic, demanding job, and the burden of it seems to be weighing heavily on them, more than ever before. 

"Then get another job," Jimin says, scowling. "I didn't ask to raise a child on my own, Taehyung." 

"I never asked you to do it on your own either!" Taehyung argues, voice rising as he leaves the kitchen and heads out the backdoor. Jimin can hear the traffic in the background, the gust of winds. 

"Then be home," Jimin says, voice sharp. Like me —is what he doesn’t say. It’s not something that Jimin regrets. It had been his own choice to take a year off from work, when they’d first brought Jiwoo home. It was easier for him to step out of a school in a small town where he’s been promised that he’d be welcomed back any time, than it was for Taehyung to leave his job at a restaurant, especially after he’d finally worked his way up to being a sous chef.

"I can't just quit ," Taehyung says, indignant. 

"I don't care, Taehyung," Jimin scowls. "You wanted this. You wanted a baby more than anything; you should have thought about it before we—"

"Okay," Taehyung interrupts. "Okay, fine. I get it. I know, okay?"

"Okay." Jimin frowns deeply, jaw tight, and he doesn't listen to what Taehyung says next, hanging up the call and tossing his phone aside onto the couch. 

Jiwoo still hasn't let up and Jimin groans, falls back onto the couch with her held to his chest, and he rocks her back and forth, a desperate, dry sob bordering his words as he whispers, "Please stop crying." 

She falls asleep, eventually. It had taken a lot more coaxing on Jimin's part, seemingly endless hours of singing soft lullabies and pressing damp, cool towels to her forehead. 

By the time Taehyung lets himself in through the front door, Jimin and Jiwoo are both asleep on the couch, her fever having subsided as she sleeps deeply, curled up into the crook of her father's neck. 

"I'm sorry," Taehyung murmurs, looking genuinely apologetic. His wide, doe eyes are warm, earnest, and Jimin sighs as he looks away. 

"I didn't mean to yell at you either," Jimin says quietly, apologising without really apologising. He does feel bad though, and he says as much. "I was just stressed out."

"I know," Taehyung says softly, looking down at his hands. 

Jiwoo hasn't woken up since she fell asleep, and Taehyung had gently taken her from Jimin and carried her to her room. He'd made sure to tuck her into her little bed carefully, propping pillows up on either side of her before crouching down to press a lingering kiss to her forehead, her hair damp with perspiration. 

Now, with Jimin and Taehyung maintaining at least a foot of distance between each other on their bed, the newfound quietude in the house seems to stretch for miles. 

"I'll quit," Taehyung says suddenly, sounding small. 

Jimin blinks and looks over at him, something brief flickering in his eyes before he hesitates and shakes his head, sighing softly. "No, Taehyung, don't do that. I wasn't thinking earlier. You're— you're great at what you do, and...this is your dream. You've been doing this since you were sixteen; you've always wanted to run a kitchen, Tae. I can't ask you to leave all of that behind." 

"I could always get back into it when she's older," Taehyung says quietly. He reaches out for Jimin's hand, the distance between them rendering him helpless. 

"Are you sure?" Jimin asks, brows coming together. He looks and sounds as guilty as he feels, and Taehyung tries to ease the guilt with a small smile, squeezing his hand. 

"I'm sure," Taehyung murmurs, smiling faintly. "It's been ten years, Jimin; I think I can take a small break from the kitchens." 

"But—" Jimin starts, hesitant.

"But nothing," Taehyung says, firmly. "It'll be fine. And it's not — I don't want you to feel bad because of it. You were right. I did want this— I do want this. More than anything. You and Jiwoo."

Jimin swallows thickly, eyelids prickling with warmth. He slips his fingers through Taehyung's and tries to fight the way his voice wavers when he whispers, "I'm sorry I got mad at you."

"I know, baby," Taehyung whispers, shifting closer until he and Jimin are on the same side of the bed. He leans in and presses his lips to Jimin's cheek, lingering for a bit, before kissing his lips. "I know. And I'm sorry for giving you a reason to."

Sighing softly for the umpteenth time, Jimin presses in close, weary and exhausted, and he closes his eyes as he nuzzles close, burying his face into Taehyung's neck and breathing in deep. 

"I love you," Jimin mumbles, voice muffled. "You know that, right? I'm not...I'm not asking you to be a stay-at-home dad or anything; I'm not. I'm just—"

"I know," Taehyung murmurs, smiling softly as he wraps his arms around Jimin and pulls him close. "And I love you, too. And we're going to do this together, okay? I promise. We'll figure this out together, Jimin."

"Okay," Jimin says quietly.

"Okay." 

.

Taehyung stirs sleepily some hours later, groggy and disoriented as a small weight climbs up onto the mattress and crawls over him, dragging a stuffed bear in tow. 

"J'woo?" He sounds disoriented, half asleep, but he manages to find her in the dark, instinct making him reach out and press a hand to her forehead. "What's wrong? D'you feel sick?"

Jimin's voice is sleep-ridden, but gentle, as he speaks up as well, sounding a little hoarse. "Are you okay, baby?" 

Jiwoo doesn't say much at first, squeezing herself into the tight space between both of them. Taehyung blinks hard. He tries to bat the sleepiness out of his eyes until Jiwoo mumbles a quiet, "scawy dweam," that makes his heart melt, overprotectiveness making him wrap around her tiny frame in a hug even as Jimin coos soft, quiet words of reassurance and pulls her even closer. 

When they wake up, it's to Jiwoo's head tucked under Jimin's arm and her feet pressed against Taehyung's sternum, having shifted horizontally over the bed in her sleep. 

〰️

"Wah," Jiwoo exclaims in awe, pressing her button-nose right up against the glazed glass as her hands grip at the railings tightly. 

Her eyes are big, twinkling with excitement as she watches the fish swim by, the iridescent waves within the water spilling refracted light over the floor beneath her. 

"This is the best birthday ever ," she whispers, awed, before she turns around and looks up at Taehyung with a broad smile. 

"Do you like it here that much?" Taehyung asks, a fond smile tugging at his lips as he steps up right behind her and rests his hand atop her head, fingers pushing through and ruffling her hair affectionately. 

"I love it," she affirms, nodding firmly as she turns back to the glass display and tilts her head all the way back so that she can see the sharks up above as they drift by. "Can we come here for my every -birthday?" 

"For all my birthdays," Jimin corrects her, out of habit, crouching down next to her. He holds up the pastry roll in his hand and brings it up to her mouth, grinning as she takes a bite and nods without tearing her eyes away from the sharks for even a second. 

Jimin has chaperoned his class of elementary kids to the aquarium several times these last few years, but nothing about those visits comes close to the excitement he feels watching Jiwoo's smiles widen as she points at all the marine life. 

"You want to come to the aquarium for your birthday every year?" Taehyung asks, looking amused. 

She nods and finally looks away from the fish, grinning brightly. There's a comically cute gap between her bottom, front teeth where one of her primaries had fallen out unexpectedly early after an accident with the kitchen table. "Yes, please." 

The bold, colourful '4' pin pinned to her sweater shines underneath the lights and she brings a hand up to point at it. 

"And I'll wear this every year too," she says, eyes twinkling as she grins. "Next year, I'll get to wear a '5', and we'll come here again, yes?"

"Okay, yeah," Jimin laughs, straightening up so that he can stand, affectionately rubbing the top of her head. "We'll come back next year too."

"Promise?" She asks, tilting her head to the side cutely and looking him in the eyes, almost as if she's daring him to say no. 

"Promise," Jimin says, snorting in amusement. 

〰️

"Hey. Nervous?" Jimin smiles softly, bringing his hands up to pat down Jiwoo's hair affectionately. His fingers absently fix the clips in her hair, pinning back a few flyaways. The braids in her hair are uneven, courtesy of Taehyung's clumsy haste as Jimin had rushed to pack Jiwoo's lunch into her backpack.

Jiwoo shakes her head, cool as a cucumber as she rocks back on the balls of her feet and smiles, dimples pressing indentations into both of her cheeks. "Nu-uh."

"No?" Jimin throws his head back with a laugh, pleasantly surprised. "Not even a little?"

"Appa said I have nothing to be scared of," she says, doe eyed and serious as she shakes her head a little, somber. 

"Did he, now?" Jimin grins, brows lifting in amusement as he looks back over his shoulder at Taehyung, eyes twinkling. 

Taehyung shrugs where he stands and grins back, impish. His hands are buried deep in his pants' pockets, oversized cardigan hanging loose over his wiry frame. ""She's a big kid, yeah?"

Blinking her eyes shut, Jiwoo nods soberly, head bobbing up and down in agreement. "I am." 

Taehyung grins at that and holds his hand up for a discreet high-five, which she returns with a grin before she skips a step back, excited. 

"I'm going to go inside now," Jiwoo says, unable to shake the excitement off of her features as she ducks away from Jimin's fussing hands. "Don't miss me too much!" 

Jimin makes a small noise of protest as Jiwoo pulls away quickly, one of her clips coming loose in the process. He opens his mouth to call her back but she's already hurrying away, jogging backwards as she grins and brings both her arms up, waving her hands in farewell. 

"I love you! Don't be sad," she calls out, all toothy smiles and dimpled cheeks as she turns on her heel and runs up into the school building, leaving Jimin staring after her almost forlornly. 

"Fuck," Jimin murmurs, sighing softly as he brings both hands to his chest. "They really do grow up too fast." 

.

Jimin worries his bottom lip between his teeth, fingers tapping along the smooth, wooden top of the kitchen table. His gaze darts towards the clock hanging over the wall every so often as he counts down the minutes and seconds that tick by. 

Part of him feels relieved at not having to go to school on Jiwoo’s first day of Kindergarten. Tomorrow’s the day he’ll be returning to the school for the first time in two years, but his third graders won't be starting their semester until next week, and he's relieved that he can spend Jiwoo's first day of kindergarten appropriately worried and fussing after her. Taehyung would have been there anyway, but Jimin wouldn't have wanted to miss her first day of school for the world. 

For a moment, he thinks back to Taehyung again and his heart squeezes with fond admiration. He knows how difficult it's been on Taehyung to give up a full time job as a sous chef, and time and time again, Jimin feels the burden of knowing Taehyung might be feeling down about it. But if there's anything Taehyung is great at, it's at being a family man— he's made it clear that he enjoys being at home, has reassured Jimin a number of times that he'll go back to work when he feels ready to, that it was nobody's fault when he decided to quit and work at a local diner that opened only from nine to four, four days a week. 

His car keys rest atop the table, inches away from his hand, and when his fine tuned focus is shattered by Taehyung sneezing loudly upon his entrance, Jimin all but jumps, startled.

"Fucking hell, Taehyung," Jimin gasps, bringing a hand to his chest in alarm. He can feel his heart thundering away beneath his palm, eyes round and wide as he turns to look at a sheepish Taehyung. 

"Sorry," Taehyung apologises, not looking very sorry at all. There's a cheeky smile pressing dimples into his cheeks and Jimin scoffs, willing his heart to slow down. 

"Almost killed me there," Jimin mutters, visibly deflating a little after his initial scare. 

"It's the fucking pollen," Taehyung groans, a whine taking hold of his words as he pulls up a chair. The legs drag along the floor with a creak, and he drops himself down onto the seat, sniffling a little as if to emphasize his point. "I have allergies."

"Your allergies will be the death of me one day," Jimin says, shaking his head a little with a bemused snort. His heart is still a little quick, but it seems to be settling down once more, his hand finding its way back to the table to toy with his car keys. 

Taehyung's eyes follow the movement of Jimin's hand before he twists around in his seat to look up at the clock, a grin tugging upwards at the corners of his lips. 

"You know, she doesn't get out for another three hours," he says, turning back around to look at Jimin, fond adoration drawing twinkling stars in his eyes. 

"I know," Jimin says quietly, a small pout pushing at his bottom lip. 

"Are you just going to keep sitting there and waiting, then?" Taehyung teases, eyes still sparkling with amusement as he leans over the table a little, studying the way embarrassment colours at the tips of Jimin's ears and washes its way down his neck and his chest, painting his skin a rosy pink that matches the apples of his cheeks. 

"I don't really have much else to do," Jimin admits. It's his turn to look and sound sheepish as he brings a hand up to rub at the nape of his neck in mild embarrassment.

Smiling coyly, Taehyung leans in even closer, eyes bright as he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Well, I mean...I wouldn't say you have nothing to do."

At that, Jimin looks bemused, a grin pulling at his lips as he lifts a brow. "Oh?"

Taehyung shrugs coyly and grins, throwing him an exaggerated wink that has Jimin laughing even as he gets up onto his feet and walks around the table towards the former. 

"I mean, I guess there are better ways to utilize our time," Jimin teases as he corners Taehyung against the table and leans in close. He gives Taehyung only a brief moment to think, before he grins and tugs him closer. 

A startled noise leaves Taehyung's mouth as the ground escapes from beneath his feet, and he finds himself being hauled up and thrown over Jimin's shoulder with such ease that he's almost embarrassed. 

He's almost a little stunned when his world turns upside down, blood rushing to his head, and his noises of protest dissolve into laughter as he squirms and lightly kicks at the air, hand smacking Jimin's ass one too many times. 

"Park Jimin, set me down this instant or so help me God," he starts amidst giggles, trying to sound stern but coming off as anything but. 

True to himself, Jimin makes a dash for the bedroom, letting out a theatrical war cry that has Taehyung nearly sobbing in-between peals of laughter. 

He drops Taehyung unceremoniously onto their mattress and he grins as he follows, climbing up onto the latter. 

"Gosh, how primitive," Taehyung teases, in between giggles, even as Jimin playfully growls and ducks down, pressing clumsy, open mouthed, wet kisses over Taehyung's neck, over his mouth and even his cheeks. 

He kisses him until Taehyung's laughter is reduced to nothing but a silent tremble of his shoulders, face flushed a pleasant shade of pink. 

They kiss again and then some more, and somewhere between the umpteenth little peck on the lips and the steady ticking of the clock, they roll over the sheets until they're wrapped up in one another blissfully. 

Sighing happily, Jimin nudges their noses together in a fleeting butterfly kiss that makes Taehyung's eyes crinkle up in Jimin's most favourite way. 

"We should leave soon," Taehyung murmurs, when he's made aware of the time on the analogue clock against the wall. 

"Yeah," Jimin says, voice just as soft as he steals another kiss, lingering for a moment. He'd almost forgotten how any of this felt, how it felt to just stay in bed and share slow, lazy kisses. He's almost forgotten what it felt like to have time to themselves, to be able to just hold and to touch the other intimately, affectionately. 

.

He's reminded of it again, some days later, when he and Taehyung find each other in the small laundry room just off to the side of the kitchen. They haven't had the time to do this in months , Jiwoo seemingly blessed with the uncanny ability to disrupt them every time they try to just do something . 

The laundry basket remains forgotten nearby, the washing-machine already set on an accidental quick-wash cycle as it rumbles to a start.

"God, you're so hot," Taehyung whispers, crowding in on the other as he corners Jimin against the washing-machine. 

Taehyung’s voice is heavy, rough with desire and pent up need, hands heavy where they rest against Jimin’s hips. Jimin can feel the velvety baritone of Taehyung voice all the way down in his groin, can feel the way his thighs tremble with anticipation, knees weak and head swimming. 

"Hell, 've missed this,” Jimin breathes; he can’t help but admit to it as he draws Taehyung in closer by the collar of his shirt. He leans in, gently dragging the curve of his nose against the underside of Taehyung’s jaw before pressing a brief, fleeting kiss just above the latter’s Adam’s apple. 

"Missed you ," Taehyung murmurs, voice a little scratchy as he sinks to his knees, too desperate and impatient to even think about wasting time. He moves with the urgency of a parent who's far too used to the presence of an inquisitive child at home. He's quick, and his deft fingers unbutton and unzip Jimin's trousers with such speed that Jimin laughs at his eagerness despite the tented arousal beneath his boxer-briefs. 

Their lips are reddened, shiny with spit and bruised with the press of their mouths against each other. Jimin can feel the smarting throb of a new bruise on the back of his thigh where he'd walked backwards into low-set cabinetry.

Taehyung's actions are desperate and rushed, and he tugs Jimin's pants down in one quick motion, watching as they pool around his ankles. His hands come up to drag up along the sides of Jimin's legs, before settling over his thighs as he leans in and brushes his lips over the hard outline of Jimin's clothed cock. He can feel the way Jimin's muscles ripple and tense beneath his hands, can hear the way Jimin's breath hitches audibly as Taehyung's teeth lightly scrape over the material of his briefs and tug. 

"God, Tae," Jimin whispers, breathing out a slightly giddy, breathless chuckle. His hand comes to rest over the top of Taehyung's head, fingers pushing into the soft, silky tuft of hair to thread themselves into the thick locks. 

Taehyung hums softly in reply, closing his eyes for a moment as he nuzzles in close and wraps his mouth over Jimin's arousal through the fabric, tongue heavy and hot and wet. It makes Jimin tense up and jolt a little, makes him breathe out a noise that borders between a whimper and a moan. 

" Tae —"

"Appa!" 

Jiwoo's voice is enough to cut the tension, making the both of them freeze. Jimin stills, one hand in Taehyung's hair and the other resting against the washing machine. 

Taehyung freezes as well, hands going still where he'd pulled Jimin's briefs half way down his legs. He blinks, dread flooding his veins at a comical pace. He looks up, eyes wide, lips painfully close to Jimin's bare cock, and Jimin looks back at him almost pleadingly. 

"Fuck," Taehyung murmurs under his breath, clearing his throat in an attempt to sound less affected. "Maybe we really should get the guys to babysit once in a while," he mutters, in reference to their friends.

"Y-Yeah, Jiwoo; what's wrong, honey?" He calls out a bit more loudly, voice wavering a little. He strains to listen, keeping an ear out for her light footsteps. 

"Appa, where are you?" Her voice passes them by and makes them startle; Jimin's glad he'd locked the door to the laundry room. "I need help with my homework— are you in here, appa?"

A firm knock hits the door and Jimin brings his hands up, burying his face in his palms as he muffles a groan. His cock throbs, millimeters away from the warmth of Taehyung's mouth. 

Taehyung hesitates and pulls back a little, scrambling for words. "Yeah, baby; appa will be out in a minute, okay? I just need to get these clothes into the dryer. Can you go and wait for me in your room?" 

There's a brief pause followed by the sound of retreating footsteps, and both of them breathe out a sigh of relief. They walk out separately and Jimin heads to the bathroom, desperate to shower away his arousal and disappointment. 

They don't talk about it for the rest of the day, Taehyung helping Jiwoo with her homework and Jimin working on grading his students' assignments. Somewhere amidst the work, Jiwoo falls asleep, hands sticky with nailpolish that she had insisted on painting over Taehyung's nails in a fit of restless boredom. 

.

"Nice nails."

Taehyung looks up with a lazy smile, lifting his hand to show off his painted nails. They're each a different colour, paint uneven and chipped. Stick-on fruits of a comical variety are pressed onto the lacquer, glimmering under the lights.

"Jealous?" Taehyung asks, craning his neck so that his eyes could follow Jimin from where he's lying back on the couch as the latter walks past and disappears from Taehyung’s line of sight.

"Hardly," comes Jimin's scoffing reply, before a hearty laugh escapes him and makes Taehyung giggle.

"I'll tell Jiwoo you're an avid hater of her nail art abilities," Taehyung calls out as he lowers his head back onto the cushion and reaches out a hand to pick up the remote controller, switching through the channels on the TV.

"Don't you dare," Jimin threatens, picking up one of his books off of their shelf before he makes his way back to the same couch Taehyung is sitting on.

"It'll break her little heart," Taehyung continues, a little more flourish and drama to his voice now as he presses a decorated hand over his chest.

“I’ll break yours if you tell her anything of the sort,” Jimin says, pouting a little as he plops himself down on the sofa and shoves a hand against Taehyung's chest. 

〰️

Yoongi keeps on a straight face as Jiwoo busies herself with his hair, twisting neon coloured elastic bands into the strands. 

He's offered to babysit for the night, their other friends, Seokjin and Jungkook having invited themselves over for the night too. They're there more for the unsupervised access to Jimin and Taehyung's refrigerator and premium Netflix subscription than they are for anything else. Jiwoo's hand-drawn cards for the three of them are a positive bonus, though.

"That's you," she says proudly, as she bounces on the balls of her feet, eager to explain as Yoongi stares at the card in his hands, Jiwoo's little hands pulling away from his hair to point at the scribbled, petite man on the front of the card. 

"Why am I sitting on a dinosaur?" Yoongi asks, blinking in mild confusion. He manages to look impressed though, lips curling down in acknowledgement as his brows rise up a little. 

"You said you like dinosaurs," Jiwoo says, looking up at him owlishly, with big, round eyes. "I remember. You said you liked the, uhm, the...Ter– Terra–" 

She fumbles a little over her words, brows coming together. Her little nose scrunches up and her mouth pushes out into a hard pout as she tries to remember the bigbig word. 

It's an expression that's so reminiscent of Jimin's, and Yoongi can't help the way his heart and his eyes soften, a bemused smile pulling at his lips as he helps her out. "Tyrannosaurus?"

"Yeah, that one!" Jiwoo exclaims, nodding furiously as she points down at the page again and outlines the dinosaur with the tip of her index finger. It looks more like a cow than anything else, but Yoongi doesn't have the heart to say anything as he bites back a grin and flips the card open, rainbow lettering spelling out, 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY, I LOVE YOU', in disjointed Hangul letters that look like they're trying to escape from the page.

Jungkook's affronted exclamation sounds out from behind Yoongi as he peers over the back of the couch and over Yoongi's head, lifting his own card up in indignation. "How come I didn't get an 'I love you'?" 

Jiwoo looks up at him, eyes as big as saucers. She sounds as apologetic as she looks, scrambling up onto the couch to stand atop it in an attempt to reach Jungkook more quickly. Her small hands reach out for his cheeks, rose bud mouth pushing out into the sweetest pout. 

Leaning in conspiratorially, she retracts both of her hands and brings them closer, cupping her palms around her mouth, whispering at a volume that's far too loud, "It's almost Yoonbi uncle's birthday." 

“Yeah, in like a month,” Jungkook grumbles, pouting.

Despite the mispronunciation of his name, Yoongi's mouth twitches upwards at the corners, warmth flooding his veins and wrapping around his heart. 

"And don't forget," Jimin starts, giving Jungkook a stern look. "She needs to be in bed by nine."

"Yeah, chill. Don't worry about it, hyung," Jungkook says dismissively, all but shoving Jimin and Taehyung out of the door. "Go, go; enjoy your date night. We'll look after her."

"No cold drinks," Taehyung calls out from near the elevator. "She's got a bit of a stuffy nose."

"Yeah, okay, my God ," Seokjin mutters, coming up behind Jungkook. "I can't believe you two are those parents. Just relax."

"Make sure she brushes her teeth before bed, please," Jimin tacks on, looking almost reluctant to leave even as Jungkook groans. 

"Oh, my God, hyung, just go, " Jungkook says, waving his hand. "Go. We've got this." 

Taehyung and Jimin hesitate, looking at each other in concern just as Yoongi curses aloud, a loud 'thud' resounding from the living room. 

"Are you guys su—" Jimin starts, only for Seokjin to slam the door shut with a cheery 'goodbye!'.

.

"On the house, this one." 

Jimin looks up from his phone in mild confusion, glancing up at the bartender and then at the drink in front of him. He eyes it almost skeptically, untrusting for a moment, before he tips his head to the side. 

Taehyung still hasn't returned from the washroom, and Jimin isn't quite sure what to say in order to turn down a drink from a stranger, but he doesn't really get to say much at all as he opens his mouth, the bartender interrupting him smoothly. 

"He said 'e insists, told me to tell you that you look proper beautiful tonight," the bartender drawls, a countryside dialect heavily draping his speech. "Handsomest man in the room, 'e called ya. He wanted me to pass that on to ya." 

At that, Jimin sets his phone down atop the counter and reaches for the tall glass, fingers wrapping around it gingerly as he twists and turns it around.

"Who was it?" He asks, looking over his shoulder and at the crowd, over the throng of swaying bodies and dancing lights. 

"That one over there," the bartender says, nodding towards the opposite end of the counter, and when Jimin turns his head the other way, he nearly laughs.

And there he is, cheeky and sheepish, beautiful and alluring. Taehyung lifts a hand in something reminiscent of a greeting, feigning a lack of recognition. 

"Oh, him ," Jimin giggles, fingers wrapping around the glass more securely. "I know him. That's my husband ." 

He sounds so impossibly fond, grinning as he bites his lip. "Could you thank him for me?"

The bartender doesn't look too impressed at playing carrier pigeon, but he sighs and does what he's asked of anyway when he makes his rounds to the other end of the table. He pauses on his way to another lonely, broken hearted man at the far end of the table, to convey Jimin's gratitude to Taehyung. 

"I couldn't help but notice you sitting here by yourself earlier," Taehyung says, false bravado colouring his voice as he tries to look like a man who's been mustering up the courage to speak to Jimin.

"Is that so," Jimin says slowly, grinning around the straw between his teeth as he plays along, eyes sparkling.

"Yeah," Taehyung says, propping his elbow up against the bartop casually. "Do you come here often?"

"Oh, not too often," Jimin says, giggling quietly. "But maybe I should."

"I definitely think you should, too," Taehyung says softly, smiling down at Jimin with stars in his eyes. 

〰️

Jiwoo stands on the very tips of her toes, still unable to peer into the mixing bowl. The wooden mixing spoon is big in her hands, but she's determined to mix the batter through and beat it down to a smooth consistency.

It's Taehyung's birthday tomorrow, and Jimin glances at the clock every so often as he and Jiwoo ready the cake batter, pouring it into three different tins to colour them separately. He's started working again, this time at a bakery, working shorter hours as a pastry chef than he did at a three-star restaurant. Jimin supposes he'll be home in another two or so hours and the excitement of his colours his cheeks pink, makes him smile so widely that it hurts.

A series of sharp barks pierce the air and Jiwoo looks back, distracted by their new pup, Yeontan. For a moment, she looks as though she wants to drop everything and run to him, scoop him up in her arms and nuzzle him close. 

"Could we add, uhm, sprinkles on top?" Jiwoo asks finally, tipping her head to the side as she tiptoes again and empties a little too much of the blue dye into one of the tins. 

Jimin has a much lighter hand with the colours, mixing in a soft pink and a purple into the other two tins, the pair bearing a striking contrast to Jiwoo's electric blue batter. 

"I don't see why not," Jimin says, grinning fondly as he glances at her. 

She's a mess, and he has to try not to laugh at the blue dye that's transferred from her hands to her cheeks, flour dusting her soft, wispy hair like fairy dust. Her soft, round cheeks are pink from the heat in the kitchen, remnants of icing clinging to the corner of her lip from when she'd snuck a spoonful of it into her mouth before it had gone into the fridge to set. 

"Okay," she says, grinning. "Extra sprinkles. And strawberries, of course."

"Of course," Jimin says, nodding soberly as he puts on a straight face. He knows better than to leave strawberries out of a cake when it comes to Jiwoo and Taehyung. 

Pleased, Jiwoo nods, hair bouncing happily, before she takes off with a cheeky grin, Yeontan in tow.

.

"Alright, so. Keep your eyes closed," Jimin orders, a grin pulling at his lips as he carefully guides Taehyung into the living room. He has to walk on his tippy toes so that his hands can cover the younger's eyes to prevent him from peaking at the midnight surprise.

It's been a bit of an effort, keeping Jiwoo from revealing the surprise before midnight, and she's practically vibrating with excitement at finally getting to show Taehyung the fruit of her hard work in the kitchen — mixing food dye into batter and icing has never been more difficult. 

Jiwoo leads the way up front, both of her small hands tugging on Taehyung's big ones as she walks backwards. Her toothy grin shows off the few missing teeth in between, where yet another one has fallen out and a new one is still to grow in. 

"I'll fall," Taehyung complains, a whine lacing his words as he pouts, holding onto Jiwoo's hands more tightly as he tries to walk forward blindly. 

"Almost there," Jimin promises, bringing the three of them to a stop just a foot away from the table before he pulls his hands away and reveals the surprise. 

When Taehyung opens his eyes, he does so to a sweetly decorated cake, frosted with a delicate icing and topped with sugar flowers that he knows Jimin can make with his eyes closed. Blue icing spells out the words, 'happy birthday, appa' in Jimin's handwriting, and Taehyung feels his heart grow five times too big for his chest. 

"Hey. Are you crying?" Jimin teases, falling forward to wrap his arms around Taehyung as he hugs him from behind and squeezes firmly, laughing.

"No," Taehyung protests immediately, but his voice is watery and his eyes sting a little bit, and he just really, really loves his little family of three. "Just taken aback is all."

"Happy birthday, appa," Jiwoo says, grinning as she falls forward to hug him tightly around the waist, pressing her face into Taehyung's tummy. 

.

"G'morning," Taehyung mumbles as he walks into the living room, bedroom slippers shuffling across the wood flooring. 

He bites back a yawn, eyes scrunching up as he does so. He scratches along his side idly as he walks over to where Jimin is standing by the window, bathed under soft, silver-blue light. 

He's still pleasantly buzzed with happiness from the night before, having been showered with more cake and cards and hugs and kisses than he could have ever dreamt of. 

"Morning, sleepy head," Jimin murmurs, smiling fondly as he looks over his shoulder at Taehyung and then looks back ahead, out the window at the early morning frost and empty streets on a Sunday morning. He extends a hand back, blindly reaching out for Taehyung, and when Taehyung's hand slips into his, he pulls him closer, guiding the younger's arms around his own midsection. 

Like that, he leans back against the broad expanse of Taehyung's chest, and the two of them sway together a little from side to side. Jimin rests his head back against the latter's shoulder, his hands lightly resting atop both of Taehyung's. 

They're quiet for a while, drinking in each other's company and soaking in the faint warmth of the sunlight whenever the sun's rays peak through the heavy clouds. Jimin closes his eyes and his heart flips a cartwheel or two when Taehyung's lips brush ever so slightly over the smooth, soft contour of Jimin's neck. 

"I've been thinking," Jimin starts quietly, voice soft. His fingers glide over the tops of Taehyung's hands and he tips his head further back a little, turning to look back and up at the other. 

"Hm?" Taehyung tucks his chin down so he can look at Jimin, their close proximity making him smile instinctively. He leans in and his lips ghost over Jimin's mouth ever so slightly as he sighs contentedly. 

Their gazes meet and for a moment, Jimin forgets what he'd wanted to say, getting lost in Taehyung's eyes. Their bodies come to a standstill for a moment, no longer swaying from side to side to the silent melody of their very own love song. 

"What?" Taehyung presses again, breathing out a quiet chuckle at the way Jimin stares up at him. 

Swallowing thickly, Jimin twists around entirely in Taehyung's arms and brings his hands up to rest them against the younger's face, cupping his cheeks gently. 

Jimin wonders if he looks as out of breath as he feels, thumbing over the smooth, soft curve of Taehyung's cheeks. Shaking his head a little, he draws Taehyung closer and Taehyung has to lean down a little, bending forward until their foreheads touch. 

The tips of their noses nudge against each other and Jimin breathes out a deep, contented sigh. For a moment, he lets his eyes slide shut and he shifts a little closer, taking in a tentative, slow inhale like he's breathing Taehyung in — he breathes in the cologne and the musk, the faint, earthy floral notes that seem to be woven into the very essence of what makes up Taehyung's entire being. 

"Jimin..?" Taehyung's voice is soft, careful and quiet. He speaks at a volume that's just barely above a hushed whisper, like he's afraid of shattering the moment. 

"I love you," Jimin murmurs suddenly, lashes flickering as he opens his eyes and looks up at the love of his life. He manages to catch the exact moment Taehyung seems to melt at the words, and his expression crumbles into something smitten and warm and reverent. 

"I love you," he repeats again, bringing his arms down to wrap them around Taehyung as he leans his weight into the latter. "I love you so much." 

"I love everything with you," Jimin mumbles, pressing his face into the crook of Taehyung's neck and breathing deeply. "God, I'm just so—" 

Taehyung's hands find Jimin's waist and he presses his lips to the latter's temple in a lingering kiss. "I know," he says softly, because he does. He understands. He knows what Jimin wants to say, knows how he feels because he feels the same way. 

"This is the best thing I've ever done," Jimin says quietly, eyes searching Taehyung's in earnest. "You know that? You. Jiwoo. I wouldn't change any of it for the world."

"I know," Taehyung murmurs, once again. His chest feels tight, heart too big for the space beneath his ribs. "Me too." 

Swallowing thickly, Jimin breathes out a small laugh and falls into Taehyung, wrapping his arms around the younger and breathing in deep. They stay like that for what feels like forever, until the sun finally climbs up over the horizon and settles low over the morning sky, painting the clouds a vibrant orange. 

"Happy birthday, Tete," Jimin mumbles, nestling closer. "Thank you— for giving me the happiest days of my life."

"Don't make me cry, you," Taehyung whispers, breathing out a damp chuckle. "I can't see your beautiful face if I'm crying."

"That's alright," Jimin murmurs, smiling softly. "You've got the rest of our lives to look at my face all you'd like." 

"Yeah?" Taehyung mumbles, swallowing hard. 

"Yeah. Yeah, I think we've got forever on our side."