Archive of Our Own ^beta

[ 1 ]

He’s late. He’s late and for the third time this week, he can’t find his favorite purple sweater. It’s 45 degrees outside, his sweater’s nowhere to be found, everything else is in the wash and—

“Jimin-ah! Jimin!”

Namjoon continues rifling through his drawers trying to find an alternative when his new roommate peeks into the room.

“Hyung? You called?”

Namjoon peers over at him in the doorway and stops short. Jimin’s small frame is wrapped up in the very sweater he’s been turning his room over looking for for the last fifteen minutes.

Namjoon opens his mouth to berate Jimin for taking his things, but—

Fuck. He’s cute.

Small. Narrow-waisted. Sweater paws. Collarbone on display. 

Namjoon sighs. “Nothing, never mind.”

He blindly grabs the first sweater he can get his hands on and shuffles past Jimin into the hallway. His roommate follows him to the front door.

“I have taekwondo with Kook after work tonight,” Jimin tells him, leaning against the wall. “So, you’ll be on your own for dinner.”

Namjoon nods as he slips his sneakers on. He pats his pockets to make sure he’s got his phone and keys and then reaches over to ruffle Jimin’s already-touseled blond hair.

“That’s fine. Hobi said something about sushi, so I’ll probably meet up with him,” Namjoon says.

Jimin nods at him with a smile, purple sweater slipping off one narrow shoulder and Namjoon swallows the lump in his throat. Why’s he gotta be so damn cute?

“Bye, hyungie,” Jimin says, offering one sweater paw in a wave. Oh, god.

Namjoon waves back faintly and before he can stop himself, blurts out, “Sweater looks good, Minnie.”

The last thing he sees before he turns away is a pretty, peachy pink blush bloom in Jimin’s full cheeks. Maybe it’s not such a bad trade-off for having to spend all day in the Rudolph sweater with the light up red nose that Jin gave him last Christmas.

[ 2 ]

Namjoon tugs on the hem of his floral-and-cartoon-pony-printed bomber jacket as he ducks into the coffee shop where Taehyung works. The warmth inside settles over him like a blanket, the smell of coffee enveloping him in its comforting embrace. 

Lofi beats float through the air. It’s cozy.

He dusts remnants of powdery snow off his shoulders and makes his way up to the counter to order. The shop’s pretty empty—just a few college students seated at the tables and a businessperson or two hanging out and waiting on their drinks. Namjoon’s glad for it. He’s not in much of a mood to be around a lot of people right now.

“Welcome to—” Taehyung stops short at the sight of Namjoon and his lips break out into a boxy grin. “Jimin went through your sweaters again, huh?”

Namjoon frowns, skepticism marring his features. “What makes you say that?” 

Taehyung raises a brow at him, but then shrugs innocently like the brat he is as his eyes rove over the horrific pattern of Namjoon’s jacket. 

Namjoon heaves a sigh. He’d sooner eat worms than admit Taehyung’s right. 

“Can I get a cappuccino?” he asks instead. “A big one. Biggest you got. With two extra shots of espresso in it.”

Just the thought of caffeine makes him feel a little less exhausted. At this point, he can’t even remember the last time he slept, just knows it’s been much too long and that his bones are weighed down by a few tons of weariness.

“Sure thing, hyung,” Taehyung says, moving to punch in the order.

Namjoon peers up at the menu board behind Taehyung and makes a split-second decision. “Wait — and a peppermint mocha with extra of those chocolate shaving things,” he says. “Made with almond milk and no whipped cream.”

Taehyung keys in the order with a smirk on his lips, mumbling, “He’s been adding a pump of vanilla, too, lately.”

Namjoon narrows his eyes in response and says, “How do you know it’s not for like, Yoongi hyung or something?”

Taehyung’s lips split again and that facetious grin is back. Most  of the time, Namjoon loves Taehyung. They’ve got a long history behind them and a rock solid foundation for their friendship. This is not one of those times.

“The day Yoongi hyung orders anything but an Americano is the day I give up on becoming a doctor and take up the saxophone full-time,” Taehyung replies. Leaning forward across the counter and—to Namjoon’s chagrin—into Namjoon’s bubble, Taehyung pinches his cheek. “C’mon, hyung. Jiminie comes in here four times a week and orders the same thing, you think I don’t know his order when I hear it?”

Namjoon swats his hand away. “Fine, okay, yes. Add a pump of vanilla, then.”

Taehyung leans back, triumphant, and finishes entering the order. He takes Namjoon’s phone to scan for rewards and then tells him, “Your drinks will be up in just a minute!”

Namjoon nods, shoving his wallet back into his pocket and, just as he’s turning to move to the other end of the counter, he’s wrapped up from behind in a hug. The scent of Jimin’s flowery cologne hits his nose and he chokes on a sharp intake of breath.

“Jooooonie hyung!” Jimin stands on tip toes to hook his chin over Namjoon’s shoulder and it’s all Namjoon can do not to trip over his own feet. He just barely grasps the edge of the counter, saving himself—and koala Jimin—from careening to the floor.

“Jimin-ah!”

He feels a bubble of laughter rumble through Jimin’s chest which is pressed up against his back. His heart stutters at the tinkling sound of it, sunshiney warmth blooming like a flower within him. No one gives hugs like Jimin. All the weariness that’s been weighing him down lifts away and he’s left feeling lighter than he has all afternoon.

Too soon, though, Jimin unravels himself from around Namjoon and leans up against the counter next to him. As expected, the gray sweatshirt Namjoon had been searching for in the morning hangs off his narrow frame, almost drowning him in a hundred extra folds of fabric. It’s cute, of course, the way it reaches almost to his knees, and there’s always something about seeing Jimin in his clothes that makes Namjoon’s heart pitter patter. 

“Did you order, hyung?” Jimin asks, biting his lip as he looks up at the menu board. Taehyung catches his eye from over the espresso machine and the two of them exchange finger hearts. “Hi, TaeTae!”

“Yeah, I did,” Namjoon says. “Grabbed you a peppermint mocha, too. Why don’t you pick a table and I’ll wait for the drinks?”

Jimin’s gaze snaps up to his and his brown eyes widen in surprise. After a moment, his expression softens into a warm fondness that colors his face pink. Namjoon tries to ignore the butterflies fluttering around in his stomach at the sight of his roommate’s brilliant smile but it’s useless, as usual. He swallows around his nerves.

“Thanks, hyungie,” Jimin says, reaching out to squeeze Namjoon’s hand with one of his gray sweater paws. But then, his lips dip into a pout. “Aw, but I kinda switched up my order recently…”

Namjoon ignores Taehyung’s smug grin as he explains, “You’ve been adding a pump of vanilla, right? I got it, don’t worry.”

Jimin’s pout melts back into a smile and his cheeks light up into a strawberry sweet blush. He thanks Namjoon again before scuttling off to get a table.

Namjoon puts a hand over his heart and looks up at the low ceiling of the coffee shop. He’ll never survive if things keep on like this. Absently, he wonders if there’s a cure for puppy love.

Then—

“Hyung—”

“Not a word, Kim Taehyung. Not a word.”

[ 3 ]

It’s been awhile since it was Jimin and Namjoon’s turn to host their group’s Friday hangout. The rotation was stuck on Yoongi and Seokjin for a couple of weeks as they all worked on a mural in the couple’s living room. Now that the mural—most of which ended up being painted by Jungkook and Jimin—is finally done, it’s time to get back to their normal schedule.

“We should do Friday hangouts here every week,” Hoseok sighs, settling down in the midst of a nest of cushions and blankets with a glass of Merlot clutched between his pretty fingers. The fairy lights and paper lanterns hanging around the perimeter of the rooftop make his eyes shine brightly like a pair of stars. “This is so unfairly pretty.”

He’s right. Namjoon got very lucky with his current apartment. It sits in the middle of the city, close to everything important and yet reasonably affordable. But the piece de resistance of the whole place is this beautiful rooftop terrace area where they’re setting up movie night. It provides a gorgeous vantage point out over the rest of the neighborhood. It’s private and spacious and Jimin’s taken his time cultivating a small garden in one half while the other is taken up by a raised wooden platform that they use for get-togethers. One wall of their kitchen serves as the perfect projector screen during movie night.

Namjoon kneels down a few feet away to place a tray of (Seokjin’s) cupcakes on the table and grins. “What, you weren’t a fan of group painting?”

Hoseok shoots him a dark look, shuddering away the memories. “It’s been a week and I’m still washing paint out of my… everywhere  each time I shower.”

Namjoon nods sympathetically. Lucky for him, neither Yoongi nor Seokjin had trusted him around the paint so he’d been exempt from muraling, but Jimin’s been finding random paint splotches on his stuff since they finished, too. He understands Hoseok’s plight by proxy.

“Jiminie, you’re a godsend.”

Namjoon looks up at the sound of his roommate’s name and promptly chokes on his own saliva as Jimin approaches from the kitchen door. He’s dressed in one of Namjoon’s old college hoodies, a navy-colored one with a big white koala on it, and yoga pants. The sweatshirt isn’t as big on him as Namjoon’s other clothes, so it rests comfortably across his shoulders and hips, leaving his muscular legs on full display. He leans over to hand Hoseok a big blanket and Namjoon’s brain catches fire.

Thighs for days , is Namjoon’s only coherent thought. They could probably crush me.

“Joooooonie-yah,” Jimin says next, tone mischievous as he straightens up and turns to look at Namjoon. He flaps his sweater paws back and forth — the sight is just a bit too endearing. 

Namjoon whimpers internally. The gap between Sex God Jimin and Adorable Marshmallow Jimin spans the width of an ocean, he thinks. His brain short circuits momentarily as he tries to reconcile thicc thighs with sweater paws.

“Joooooon bug.” More waving. More cuteness.

Namjoon’s cheeks flare up in what he imagines is a horrendous, blotchy red blush while Hoseok guffaws off to the side. He reaches out blindly to smack his friend, but Hoseok shrieks and pulls back just in time, saving both his merlot and his newly-acquired Chimmy blanket.

“M-Minnie?” His voice comes out in an embarrassingly high-pitched squeak, so Namjoon clears his throat and tries again. “W-What’s up, Jimin?”

Jimin smiles a little sheepishly, pulls one small hand through his hair, and tells Namjoon, “Can you help me?”

Thump thump goes Namjoon’s heart.

“Of course,” he says. “What do you need help with?”

Jimin ruffles the blond hair at his nape in contemplation for a moment and then allows the sleeve of Namjoon’s hoodie to slip back over his palm. His pout is a bit too much for Namjoon to take, so he turns away to focus on the cupcakes instead.

One cupcake for me, one cupcake for Kookie, one cupcake for—

“I was trying to pick out a movie online but then I remembered I have a couple boxes of DVDs up on the top shelf of my closet. Really old movies, you know, like Casablanca and stuff. Can you help me get them down?”

Namjoon’s fingers land in frosting as he nods. “S-Sure thing, Jiminie. Just a second.”

“Thanks, hyung!”

Jimin disappears back into their apartment and Namjoon’s left alone again with a cackling Hoseok.

“Jooooonie-yah, help me! Joooooon bug!” he simpers, pitching his voice higher in a poor imitation of Jimin. “When even was the last time you let one of the kids call you by name, huh?”

“Hope-ah, if you don’t can it—” Namjoon growls.

Hoseok giggles some more, wagging a finger at him. “Ah-ah, your fairy prince needs help. I wouldn’t keep those legs waiting if I were you.”

Namjoon flushes again and licks the cupcake frosting off his finger. “Those thighs are gonna be the end of me,” he admits, standing up on wobbly legs.

As he walks away, he swears he hears Hoseok mutter, “Yeah, well, I think that’s the point.”

—

Half-an-hour later, they’re finally all set up for their rooftop movie night. Three giant bean bag chairs strategically placed around the empty space on the wooden platform make for cozy seating, and there are endless bowls and platters of snacks and beer and wine to keep them sated all night. It’s not as chilly as it’s been all week, but Namjoon asked Jungkook and Taehyung to bring over their patio heater just in case, so the atmosphere is snuggly and makes him feel warm despite them being outside.

The first movie of the night is—per Taehyung’s request— Midnight in Paris . With the sun dipping below the horizon as a backdrop to the beautifully-shot film and Jimin curled up against his chest, Namjoon’s heart blooms in contentment. He’s got one hand wrapped around Jimin’s back, scratching the expanse of his torso with light fingers. The other is curled around the stem of a glass of Pinot.

“Tae, do you still have those pictures from Paris of you recreating these scenes?” Jimin asks, sitting up a bit.

From where he’s lounging in a big puppy pile with Hoseok and Jungkook, Taehyung grins. “Yeah, they’re in some obscure Facebook album somewhere.”

“God, that was the best  trip,” Seokjin sighs. He’s snuggled up against Yoongi a few feet away, hand carding through his boyfriend’s dark hair as he dozes. Yoongi never lasts more than a few scenes of any movie on movie night before passing out. 

“Of course you’d  think so,” Jungkook replies. He throws Seokjin a facetious grin, adding, “wasn’t that the trip where Yoongi hyung confessed?”

Seokjin’s answering smile is soft enough and his cheeks are pink enough that he doesn’t need to verbally confirm Jungkook’s suspicions. Jungkook rolls his eyes and settles down beside Hoseok and Taehyung again but his own expression is just a little bit fond.

“Hyungie.”

Namjoon’s attention is drawn back down to the boy laying against his chest. Jimin’s eyeing the wine glass in Namjoon’s hand, so he gives it over without protest. Jimin’s affinity for cheap wine, which stems from their undergrad days substituting any and all non-alcoholic beverages with the cheapest wine they could find, is still alive and well. He turns immediately into a cat presented with a bowl of milk, reaching out with two small hands and delight reflected in his wide brown eyes. Maybe it’s a little bit cute.

He downs the rest of the wine in one big gulp and then, once both of their hands are free of obstructions, twines his fingers together with Namjoon’s. 

Nuzzling his cheek against Namjoon’s chest and settling back in to watch the movie, he says, “Much better.”

Namjoon ascends to a higher plane of existence.

[ 4 ]

“Just like that, that’s perfect.”

Namjoon tilts his head and looks off into the middle-distance as Yoongi snaps a photo of him. It’s quiet at Jimin’s bookstore, as it always is, apart from the hustle and bustle of their small, informal photoshoot on the side porch. There are a couple of customers wandering around inside the shop and a stray cat or two slinking between the bookshelves, but it’s calm and still and feels warm despite the chill in the air. 

Yoongi adjusts his camera and takes a couple more shots from different angles before Jimin scuttles out from the bookstore’s side door with coffees in-hand.

“Hyungs, a little present for your hard work,” he says, holding out their drinks to them.

Yoongi grins, ruffling Jimin’s hair and getting a pout in return. “Thanks, Jimin-ah.”

Namjoon takes his own coffee, accepting Jimin into his arms as well when his roommate wraps his arms around Namjoon’s waist.

“S’cold,” Jimin says. 

It is pretty cold, but Namjoon’s sweating through his layers with Jimin pressed up against him like this. His blond hair is soft and fluffy and smells like strawberries—

But then Namjoon really looks at him and—

Of course he is.

“Minnie, is this my sweater?”

Jimin pulls back from him and looks down at his own chest as though checking for himself. It’s not glaringly obvious since the only part of Namjoon’s sweater that’s visible under Jimin’s pullover is the turtleneck around Jimin’s throat. But the dead giveaway is the tiny embroidered 205  peeking out above the collar.

“Is it?” Jimin asks. 

He twists around, trying to see, so Namjoon dips a finger beneath the neck of Jimin’s— his —sweater and pulls at it.

“Yeah, pretty sure,” Namjoon says.

Yoongi snorts in the background, only half trying to pretend he’s not eavesdropping at this point.

Jimin’s cheeks bloom pink and he pouts up at Namjoon. “Huh. I didn’t even realize, hyung. Sorry.”

And maybe, maybe Namjoon’s a little weak for Pouty Jimin, even if he doesn’t sound sorry at all.

“S’fine, it looks good on you,” he says, reveling in the way Jimin’s blush darkens.

He pulls his finger out and wraps his hand around the back of Jimin’s neck instead, running his fingers through the soft hair at his nape. Jimin closes his eyes and leans into the touch while simultaneously moving forward to hug Namjoon around the waist again. 

“You’re like a furnace, hyungie,” Jimin murmurs as Namjoon continues his ministrations. He pulls Namjoon even closer, til their hips are lined up with each other. “Warm.”

If Jimin was a cat he’d probably be purring right about now, Namjoon thinks. His expression is completely blissed out, pretty lips hanging open just the slightest bit. It takes everything Namjoon has within himself not to lean down and—

Yoongi clears his throat. 

Jimin’s eyes fly open and, before Namjoon even knows what’s happening, his roommate has rushed back into the shop. 

“Fuck.”

Yoongi smirks at him from a few feet away, shaking his head. “I feel like I just watched something I shouldn’t have. Y’all need to chill the fuck out, we’re in public .”

Namjoon feels his cheeks and ears light up. “Fuck.”

“What’s going on between you guys, anyway? No one told me you’re sleeping with Jimin,” Yoongi says. He sets his coffee down on one of the outdoor tables and goes back to fiddling with his camera.

Namjoon feels a little like he’s been hit by a truck. He spins around to look at Yoongi, wide-eyed. “Wait, what? I’m not sleeping with Jimin.”

Yoongi’s brows shoot up in surprise. 

“You realize that just makes whatever that  was,” Yoongi says, waving his hand around in the general direction of where Jimin had just been standing, “even more ridiculous, right, Joon?”

Namjoon knows. He knows . But—

“Hyung, he’s so fucking cute and he wears my clothes all the time and he’s so soft and pretty—”

Yoongi lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Good God, you are fucked.”

Namjoon flops down on the doorsill where he’d been posing for pictures and groans. “I know.”

Settling down beside him, Yoongi pats him on the shoulder sympathetically.

“Gonna do something about it?” he asks.

Namjoon shrugs, a little defeated. He’s thought about making a move for ages, but every time he even starts to imagine  that Jimin might be interested, he talks himself out of it.

“You should,” Yoongi tells him. “The guy looked smitten with you.”

Namjoon glances at him with clear disbelief written all over his expression. “You think?”

“I think he was about three seconds from making his o-face and all you did was massage his neck a little,” Yoongi says. “So, yeah. Yes. Absolutely into you.”

Namjoon stares down at his hands in his lap and pouts. “I don’t wanna make things weird. We live together.”

“Joon-ah.” Yoongi waits until Namjoon looks up at him. “O-face. Sweaters. Neck massage.”

Another blush floods into Namjoon’s cheeks as the words sink in and the image of Jimin’s lips materialize in his mind’s eye. He doesn’t want to give himself any unnecessary hope, but maybe…

“Yeah?” he says.

Yoongi nods. “Yeah.”    

[ 5 ]

“Hyung, you made it!”

Namjoon grins at the sight of Jungkook, who scurries out from behind the bar at his and Seokjin’s newest business endeavor—a craft brewery in the heart of Itaewon. People are already milling around the place, tasting their way through beer flights and peering through the glass windows that look into the brewery equipment in the next room. He spies Yoongi and Hoseok talking to some of the guests across the room.

“Hey, Kook, congrats!”

Namjoon wraps Jungkook up into a hug, ruffling his hair as he does. He hands over the bottle of wine he’s brought along and Jungkook accepts it gratefully.

“I know you’re opening a brewery and you have plenty of alcohol around, but I couldn’t think of anything better to bring than wine,” Namjoon explains sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

“And wine is just fine.” Seokjin swoops out of a backroom behind the bar and leans over the counter to swipe the bottle from Jungkook’s hands. “Thanks, Joonie.” 

He peers around Namjoon, as though the lawyer might be hiding something behind his back. Namjoon follows his gaze with a raised brow.

“Jimin?” Seokjin asks.

Namjoon unravels the scarf around his neck and takes a seat on one of the barstools in front of the bar as he answers. “Should be here soon. He had to close the shop today and then he was going to swing by and pick up Taehyung.”

“How’re things going with that?” Jungkook asks, sitting down beside him. “Any progress?”

Namjoon narrows his eyes. “Progress?”

Seokjin huffs indignantly from behind the bar and replies before Jungkook has a chance, “Oh please, give us a little credit, would you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talk—”

“Hyungs!” Jungkook suddenly exclaims, looking beyond Namjoon towards the door, and the words die in Namjoon’s throat. 

He spins around to find his roommate barreling into the bar with Taehyung, who’s still dressed in scrubs from his newest hospital rotation. They’re arm-in-arm as usual, self-proclaimed platonic soulmates as they are, but they break away from one another to offer hugs to Jungkook and Seokjin in turn.

“Hyung, Jungkook-ah, congratulations!” Taehyung says. 

“We’re so proud of you guys! This place looks amazing,” Jimin adds, giggling as Jungkook lifts him clear off his feet. 

Once he’s back on steady ground and his laughter has somewhat subsided, Jimin makes his way towards Namjoon.

“Hi, hyung,” he says, winding his arms around Namjoon’s neck and planting a wet kiss against his cheek. 

Namjoon ignores the wide-eyed stares and raised brows of their friends in favor of wrapping his own arms around Jimin’s waist. He’s taller than Namjoon for once, as Namjoon’s still seated in front of the bar, and it’s odd, having to look up at Jimin to talk to him.

“Hey, Minnie. How was your day?” 

Jimin smiles. 

“It was fine. Better now,” he says, tapping Namjoon on the nose.

“Oh?” 

“Yeah,” Jimin says. He looks straight into Namjoon’s eyes, cheeks blooming pink as he adds, “Much better now.”

A burst of warmth settles into Namjoon’s chest at these words, and he doesn’t know if he’s ever felt quite so content. He squeezes Jimin’s waist, pulling him a little closer. 

“So!” Seokjin says loudly. “Who wants to try some beer?”

“Me! I need something to help me forget I just witnessed that,” Taehyung answers immediately, throwing a pointed look in Namjoon’s direction that makes him flush. 

Jimin reaches over to smack his best friend on the arm, but Taehyung jumps out of the way before he can. He sticks out his tongue as Jimin rolls his eyes.

“Great!” Seokjin says. “Jungkook-ah, help me put together a couple of flights.”

He and Jungkook set about pouring glasses just as Yoongi and Hoseok make their way over, offering a new round of hellos to everyone. Jimin takes the opportunity to pull off his leather jacket and sets it down on the counter beside Namjoon’s discarded scarf.

Only then does Namjoon realize he’s—yet again—wearing one of Namjoon’s sweaters—a red one this time, with horizontal blue stripes that bring out the brightness of Jimin’s eyes. Eyes that are pointed straight at Namjoon once more, alight with a mischievousness that belies his true intentions even as he smiles innocently.  

“This kid,” Namjoon mutters, winding his arm back around Jimin’s waist and pulling his roommate directly between his legs. “You’re a brat, did you know that?” 

Jimin giggles, settling down on Namjoon’s lap. “Sure did.” 

“Can’t even be mad,” Namjoon says, “when you look this cute.” 

Jimin leans back against Namjoon’s chest, pulling his roommate’s arms around his waist, and then reaches up to press another kiss to Namjoon’s jaw. 

“Glad you approve,” he says. 

—

A couple of hours later, with a nice beer buzz floating through his noggin, Namjoon finds himself out on the back patio of the brewery, the cool night air doing its damndest to sober him up. It’s working, he thinks, as the pleasant weightlessness of alcohol begins to dissipate in favor of the distinct gravitational pull of inhibitions instead. 

Just in time, too, because in the next moment he’s being wrapped up in the embrace of a smaller body behind him and Jimin’s signature cologne infiltrates his senses.

“Hyungie poo,” Jimin sing songs into his ear. “Whatcha doin’ out here all by your lonesome?” 

Namjoon covers Jimin’s hands over his stomach with his own, pulling his roommate flush against his back. The fairylights of the patio cast an ethereal glow over everything. It feels like romance incarnate. 

“Hi, baby,” Namjoon says before he can stop himself.

Jimin hums. “Ooh, I like the sound of that. Can we make that an all-the-time thing?” 

“Sure, baby,” Namjoon replies.

Jimin settles his chin over Namjoon’s shoulder. “You ready to head home, big guy? It’s getting pretty late.” 

“In a minute,” Namjoon says, gaze focused on the lights around them. “This is too pretty.” 

Jimin hums again.

“Know what else is pretty?” Namjoon asks, tilting his head back to look at Jimin.

Jimin raises a brow.

“You. You’re pretty.”

Jimin grins. “So are you. Like so pretty. Too pretty.”

Namjoon feels his cheeks warm at the compliment and how easily it falls from Jimin’s lips. His lips that are just inches from Namjoon’s own.

“I want to kiss you,” he confesses in a whisper. 

Jimin’s eyes widen, gaze dropping to Namjoon’s mouth. His arms tighten around Namjoon’s midsection.

“What’s stopping you?” he asks, voice just as quiet as Namjoon’s. “I want you to.”

Namjoon sighs, pulling Jimin’s hands away and twisting around to face his roommate. His grip lands against Jimin’s hips and there is clear regret laced through his tone as he says, “You deserve better than kisses dipped in alcohol, Jimin-ah.”

Jimin sucks in a sharp breath and leans his forehead against Namjoon’s shoulder. His hands tremble where they’re gripped around his hyung’s shirt.

“Not fair,” Jimin says. “I wanted kisses.”

Namjoon chuckles and threads his fingers through Jimin’s artfully tousled blond hair. The air around them is still, the sounds of the celebrations going on inside muted and far away, and it feels like they’re in a bubble all their own. Under the glow of the fairy lights strung up around the patio, basking in the warmth of each other, Namjoon pulls Jimin even closer. 

“Jimin-ah.” He waits for Jimin to look up at him. “Let’s go home.”

[ +1 ]

Jimin has tried everything. For the last who knows how many months, he’s done his best to look as cute as humanly possible, he’s flitted around wearing his roommate’s clothes, flirted and tried his hand at seduction and all manner of making himself as available  as he can. And what exactly has it gotten him? One incredibly dense beanpole of a roommate and five endlessly amused friends. 

He thought things would change after Jungkook and Jin’s brewery opening, but his relationship with Namjoon is as stagnant as ever.

Jimin’s at the end of his rope. It’s time to make a move.

“Namjoon hyung?” He slips out of his coat and pushes his feet into his house slippers as he wanders through the hallway towards Namjoon’s room.

“Hang on just a sec, Minnie,” Namjoon calls out.

His bedroom door’s been left wide open so Jimin approaches and stops short in the doorway.

There, standing in the middle of what looks like the aftermath of a tornado that’s left every sweater and jacket Jimin owns splayed out over Namjoon’s floor, is Namjoon himself. Sweet, silly Namjoon, who’s managed to squeeze himself into Jimin’s favorite white denim jacket that is about five inches too short on his much taller frame.

“Oh, honey.”

Namjoon spins around to face him, face a nice cherry red color from his neck up to his ears. It’s possibly the cutest thing Jimin’s ever seen.

“O-Oh, hi, Jimin-ah.”

Jimin flutters his fingers in a wave, brow raised and a grin stretched across his lips. “Hi, hyungie. That my jacket?” 

Namjoon looks down at himself as though to check. “Uhh…”

“Didn’t know you were into crop tops, babe.”

Namjoon coughs. “B-Babe?”

“Unless you prefer ‘baby’? I prefer ‘baby,’ myself.” Jimin levels Namjoon with mischievousness alight in his eyes. It’s more than a little ridiculous, this situation, so he takes it upon himself to make it even more absurd. “If you wanted to borrow my clothes, you could have just asked, you know?”

Namjoon’s adorably bewildered expression makes it impossible to hold in his giggles. Jimin bends forward from the force of his own laughter, nearly toppling into his roommate, who’s still frozen in place in the middle of the room. He’s just so fucking cute, Jimin can hardly stand it.

“I just—I wanted—I’m sorry,” Namjoon stammers. He pulls cutely at the bottom of the denim jacket in an effort to cover his flat tummy, but it’s too short to do so with any effectiveness. 

Jimin straightens up, reigning in his laughter when he catches sight of the distress on Namjoon’s face. He reaches out, grasping at Namjoon’s hands.

“Oh, baby, no. I didn’t mean to—I’m not making fun of you. You’re just so cute,” he says. He pulls Namjoon a little closer and reaches up to cup his cheek. “Let’s chat, hmm? I think it’s about time we talked through some things.”

Namjoon nods faintly and allows Jimin to drag him into the living room. 

They flop down on the couch beside each other, shoulder to shoulder and still holding hands. Jimin tightens his grip when Namjoon makes to pull away.

“Listen, Jimin—”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain anything,” Jimin assures him but Namjoon shakes his head.

“I just—I don’t know if you realize it or not, but you look really fucking adorable wearing my clothes and I just wanted—I don’t know what I was thinking. I just wanted to be cute for you, too,” Namjoon explains, staring down at their linked hands. 

“Hyung, you are cute. You’re always cute,” Jimin says automatically. He heaves a disappointed sigh and pouts. “I had no idea my plan was having such an effect on you, though.”

Namjoon’s brows furrow in confusion. “Your plan?”

Jimin stares at him for a long moment, wondering whether he’s being facetious or not, but his roommate seems to be genuinely befuddled. That would explain a lot.

“Oh, wow,” Jimin says, giggling. He covers his mouth with his fingers, cheeks and ears blooming pink. “You never even realized it was on purpose, did you?”

“O-On purpose ?” The bewildered expression is back on Namjoon’s face.

Jimin nods, leaning into the couch and directing his gaze up at the ceiling. For all his bravado and confidence these last few months, he’s not the best at talking about actual feelings . 

Jimin’s face feels like it’s on fire as he says, “Namjoon hyung… I like you. Like, a lot . Most of the time, I don’t know what to do with myself, I like you so fucking much.”

He avoids making eye contact, keeping his gaze focused on the white ceiling instead. His heart is hammering in his chest and it feels like he might just combust if this conversation doesn’t end soon.

But he plows forward, unwilling to let the chance to make things right pass him by. “Like… do you even know how gorgeous you are? How funny and smart and—and sweet and silly you are? God, I just want to jump your bones every time I see you.”

Namjoon sputters out an incomprehensible protest but Jimin turns to look at him with serious eyes, cutting him off mid-sentence.

“It’s true, hyung. Every bit of it,” he says. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for months—stealing your sweaters and flirting with you, but I figured you just weren’t interested. Not ’til Seokjinnie hyung and Jungkookie’s opening.”

Namjoon balks. “Months?”

“Oh, yeah. Way more than months, if I’m honest, but I didn’t really  start trying to make you pay attention until…” Jimin puts a finger to his chin as he considers. “Probably late fall? Remember that purple sweater? Right about then.”

“Holy shit.” 

“I can’t believe you didn’t know I was doing it on purpose. I mean, your sweaters are really comfortable, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t typically go around pilfering my friends’ clothes.”

“Just mine, I guess,” Namjoon breathes out. 

He still looks a little shell-shocked, so Jimin reaches over with his free hand to squeeze Namjoon’s knee.

“Joonie hyung?”

Namjoon snaps out of whatever daze he’s in to meet Jimin’s eye. “Jimin-ah, you really have feelings for me?” 

Jimin nods. 

“So many feelings,” he says. He bites his lip before confessing, “I might be a little in love at this point, honestly.” 

Namjoon’s jaw drops open at these words, so Jimin reaches up to close it for him. His cheeks are a pretty strawberry red color but his gaze is soft and warm and alight with an unadulterated happiness that makes Jimin’s heart ache in the best way.

“Joonie hyung,” Jimin whispers. He cups Namjoon’s cheek in his hand, smiling when his roommate leans into the touch, and asks, “Do you like me, too?” 

Namjoon’s answer is immediate. He stares straight through Jimin’s soul as he says, “I think I’m a little in love with you, too, Minnie.” 

And maybe that’s all it takes for Jimin’s brain to short circuit. He gapes at Namjoon, lost for words, for what must be an awkward length of time, because eventually his roommate is waving a hand in front of Jimin’s face and his expression is concerned.

“Jimin? Are you okay?”

Of course he’s not. Just how not okay he is becomes blatantly apparent when the first thing he sputters out in response to Namjoon’s confession is, “You owe me kisses.”

Namjoon’s worried expression melts away into something a little soft, a little fond. He leans in without argument and connects their lips in a firm kiss that steals Jimin’s breath away in one fell swoop. It’s equal parts heated and comforting in the confusing way that Namjoon has always been, and it feels like coming home after an eternity spent being away. For all the times Jimin imagined what Namjoon’s kisses would be like, none of them ever came close to this perfect reality.   

Jimin’s heart expands three times over as the warmth of Namjoon’s words wraps him up in a cozy embrace. He pulls Namjoon closer, slotting their lips together and touching every part of his roommate that his hands are able to reach. Every bit of pent up desire that Jimin’s held on to over the last few months comes pouring out into the kiss, lights him up from the inside out and fills him with a kind of contentment he’s never allowed himself to imagine could be his.

Eventually, their desperate touches turn languid and Namjoon’s lips leave Jimin’s to find their way across the expanse of Jimin’s neck instead. His palms are warm where they rest against the small of Jimin’s back below his t-shirt and Jimin sighs at the feeling of his fingers drawing circles against his skin. 

“I can’t believe it was all on purpose,” Namjoon says between kisses. “Even that time on the terrace in my college sweatshirt?” 

Jimin hums. “Yeah, Hobi hyung told me you’re particularly fond of yoga pants so I went out and bought some especially for that night.” 

Namjoon nips at a spot just below Jimin’s jaw. “Huh. Well, Hobi’s not wrong. Those pants were…”

Jimin grins, closing his eyes when Namjoon’s mouth finds its way to his ear. “What? What were they?” 

“Let’s just say,” Namjoon murmurs, “I wouldn’t mind you wearing those around the house everyday for the rest of our lives.” 

“That good, huh?” 

“Better,” Namjoon says. “You have nice legs.”

Jimin giggles. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

Namjoon pulls away after a moment to look Jimin in the eye.

“What is it?” Jimin asks.

“I’m sorry I made you think I wasn’t interested,” Namjoon says. “I was just… scared of making things weird if I’d read the signs wrong.” 

Jimin cards a hand through Namjoon’s already disheveled hair and leans in to kiss him. “Better late than never. Plus… any sooner and I never would have gotten to see you trying to fit into my clothes.”

Namjoon’s blushing again when Jimin leans back and he can’t help but giggle. It just might be the most endearing thing Jimin’s ever seen.

He’s so incredibly fond.