Work Text:
Jimin loves the monster under his bed.
Well.
Okay—love is a bit of a strong word, but he really likes them, admires them. He first saw them when he was six; he’d been crying because he’d lost his favorite stuffed animal. It was a soft, fluffy thing from his halmeoni. And he lost it somewhere. He’d been crying, sad little sniffles that he’d rubbed into his sheets—and then, a dark, elongated hand reached up from under the bed. Jimin had let out a little shriek—who wouldn’t?—but the hand had just flopped around, wiggling its long, claw-tipped fingers for a few seconds. Growing curious, Jimin had poked it with one of his fingers, gasping as the hand whipped back under the bed.
A minute later, the hand was back.
And it had his stuffed animal.
Ever since then, Jimin had tried to communicate with the monster under his bed; sometimes he’d see flashes of them, when they would scurry from his bed to his closet; he would leave notes and letters for the monster, a happy smile on his face whenever he’d see them missing the morning after.
And on big holidays, Jimin would leave them little gifts. A chocolate for Valentine’s day, a drawing for Christmas (what does one get a monster-under-the-bed for Christmas? Jimin didn’t know, so he figured something hand-made would work), songpyeon for Chuseok—he tried to give the monster what he could, whenever he could.
And so did the monster.
It wasn’t as frequent, but they would sometimes leave Jimin little gifts of candies or trinkets. And his birthday. The monster was particularly sweet on Jimin’s birthday. His favorite present is a thin, silver bracelet with a small star charm. The monster had given it to him for his twelfth birthday, the bracelet wrapped meticulously with pink wrapping paper. Jimin wears that bracelet every day.
Sometimes, on bad days—days where Jimin cries, where the pain of not being good enough, of not being strong enough tugs at his soul—the monster will reach their hand up, holding Jimin’s oh so gently. They’ll rub their thumb over his knuckles, squeezing softly any time a sob wracks Jimin’s body. He cries the night before he leaves for college, the monster’s hand held tightly in his until the early hours of the morning.
When he moves into his university’s housing, he’s shocked to find the monster has followed him. That first night in his new dorm, he watched as a familiar hand slowly creeped up the side of his mattress, seeking him out. He’d cried that night, too. But out of happiness, not sadness. And that’s how it continues throughout his time in college. As he grows and changes during the day, his nighttime routines with his monster remain the same.
When he moves out of the dorms and into an apartment, the monster follows.
When he goes abroad for a year with his dance company, the monster follows.
When he spends the night with someone, the monster follows.
They are so intrinsically linked, Jimin wouldn’t be surprised if when he dies, the monster will die. He says as much to the monster, one night, smiling softly as they chuff out a small laugh. They never speak to him directly, though Jimin has heard them mutter a word or two before. Mostly, if they say anything at all, it’s his name. It fills his with something warm, something light and airy. Jimin thinks it could be love—a deep-seated affection for a life-long friend. Someone who has always been there for him, will continue to be there for him.
“We’ll be together forever, right? You won’t leave me?” he asks, staring into the darkened room.
The monster is seated on the bed, this time, running a hand through Jimin’s hair. He’d rushed to his childhood home that day, tears welling in his eyes—his halmeoni. The monster lets out a soft hum, claws scratching Jimin’s scalp gently. It makes his eyelids heavy, his body sinking into his old mattress. Slowly, the monster lays down behind him, tugging him into their chest; Jimin sniffles, snuggling back. Wrapping their arms around him, the monster places their forehead against his spine.
“Jimin.”
“Please,” Jimin whispers, tears running down his cheeks, “please don’t leave me. I love you.”
The monster hums, their arms tightening around Jimin’s stomach. He lets out a shuddery breath, burying his face in his pillow. The monster lets out a soft trill, body warm against Jimin’s. They touch the bracelet on Jimin’s wrist, their claws clinking against the little star charm.
“Jimin. Love Jimin. Stay.”