Archive of Our Own

The decision was solidified in the form of packed bags and empty drawers. Jimin had no more excuses to dismiss his neglect towards his family this season. All his friends would be visiting their families, there was not enough floor space in Jimin’s compact dorm to practice while the campus’s dance studio was closed due to the holiday break, and Jimin no longer had Taehyung. There was nothing here for Jimin and he couldn’t spend his first Christmas without Taehyung alone. Jimin knew he wasn’t strong enough for something like that, it would turn the long-awaited holiday of domestic warmth and childlike excitement to tears and homesickness. 

Jimin only wishes he had made the decision to visit his family—after two years—sooner than Christmas Eve. A phone call of notice would have been more courteous while making his arrival more anticipated. Though who didn’t like surprises—especially in the form of Jimin? 

Jimin knew if he had called, his timbre would be colorless and the expected summary of why he sounded as such was something he didn’t want to explain over the phone.

The train ride to Busan would be three hours, arriving just before noon and hoping to still have a decent Christmas, Jimin had bought a tacky Santa hat that made his scalp itch. This was his attempt to be in harmony with the crowd at the train station while, with his family in mind, able to arrive at the doorstep more festive and merry for them than he really felt. But the mirage was easy to see through with the solemn look Jimin has worn from this past year he has spent without Taehyung. Though Jimin rarely looked convincingly happy anymore. His fake smiles were wearing down too. Jungkook had noticed this after a while and began asking him what was wrong while going out of his way to bring a smile back to his face. However, Jimin pushed him away slowly, day by day.

Jimin taps his foot impatiently as he clutches the handle of his suitcase. He keeps looking down the train tracks for any sign of an oncoming train—but is disappointed each time by the empty tracks—while the cold nips at his nose, making him sniffle. The station was fairly empty since it was Christmas Eve and families were already together at this point. But the few people that scatter around the station wore decorated, almost elaborate, hats and sweaters that show a lot more effort and thought, putting Jimin’s dollar store Santa hat to shame. 

There was a particular couple in the station that Jimin watches when he isn’t keeping an impatient lookout for his train. They would seem like they were attached at the hip with how tightly their arms wrap around each other as if to portray keeping themselves warm. But Jimin knows this isn’t entirely true, because it's how he held Taehyung when they were in love. 

Their words were inaudible from the low whispers they spoke to each other with, sweet nothings intended for only the lover’s ear. It soured Jimin. In his head, he began picking them apart under harsh scrutiny to make himself feel better, but it only makes him feel worse. They don’t deserve his ill-temper. But when their lips met, Jimin pulls his Santa hat off mournfully as he looks back to the tracks, hearing their giggling through a muddle of his own memories. 

The break up had been Jimin’s fault, at least that's what he thought now. Before his blame had been placed on Taehyung for his misinterpretations, but Jimin could never taint Taehyung’s name or their memories by accusing him. So, it was easier to blame himself, he was whom Taehyung blamed anyway. 

There had been a build-up of tension between them that Jimin had refused to acknowledge until it was far too late. He would brush Taehyung’s worry off, seeing as Jimin felt that there was no reason for Taehyung’s ambivalence. 

Jungkook had strictly been Jimin’s dance partner, nothing more. Sure, Jimin would spend hours of class time and rehearsals as well as all his spare time after his classes, with Jeongguk. But with Jimin’s inner perfectionist, he was sparing no expense for the both of them to perfect their assigned choreographies for the winter stage. 

Dancing was Jimin’s life, he had trained in contemporary since he was a child. And Taehyung had known that, they grew up together. Their parents were close friends, which had shoved the boys—whether they liked it or not—together since birth, maybe even before that too. So of course there was a bit of pressure and denial at first to fall into their parents’ supposed setup… but love was love. By senior year of high school, they held hands in the hall and let their classmates stare. There was no judgment that could tear them apart. 

When they told their parents over the table, hands still clasped together under the table, there wasn’t fear. But of course, both families were overjoyed, it was all they wanted. 

They had gained confidence, but not within each other. Maybe they did have faith in each other at one point, but the cruelty of time had degraded their trust. 

They had grown into themselves quite a bit once they entered Uni. Jimin’s features sharpening, turning him into a stunning sin walking, muscles defining more and more from so many years of dancing. Taehyung’s shoulders broadened, hair grew out, features blooming into a masterpiece only Taehyung could paint. Jimin had grown out of his introverted persona to something outgoing and boisterous. While Taehyung remained Jimin’s little alien, though finally crawled out of his shell to reveal his playful yet passionate love. 

Having Taehyung was like having a puppy. A lot of play, a lot of loyal adoration… but if left alone for too long the trust dwindles. To be honest, Jimin wishes he never met Jungkook. It amazes Jimin how one person could tear their soulmate-like bond to shreds, leaving only the memory of what they had once been.

Jimin was the first to board the train, he wanted off this station and away from that couple, so that maybe he could finally breathe. He chose the seat nearest the door as well so that once the train stopped he could be the first off too. Jimin needed his family, he needed his mom more than ever. He needed her soft smile, her comforting words, and unconditional love. As much as Jimin loved his father as well, he wasn’t as much of a tender person who understood how to handle heartbreak. He felt so selfish being away for two years with only the occasional phone call that seemed like a burden at the time. Not everything was about his studies, he had to find more time to visit his home. 

Jimin sighs in relief as the train finally starts moving. He had been worried that due to the snow some misfortune would happen, but apparently, he is lucky today. Jimin sets the Santa hat he has been holding beside him in the empty seat next to him and pulls out his phone and earbuds to help pass the time. He opts for something more festive than his now usual disheartening playlist of breakup songs. Jimin couldn’t allow himself to wallow in self-pity forever. So, he plays ‘Mistletoe’ and watched the scenery, miles passing within the blink of an eye. 

At some point he finds himself looking through his photos, and he still has yet to possess the strength to delete the memories he captured of Taehyung and him. Jimin swipes through them slowly and from the slight reflection of his screen saw the tears begin to shine in his eyes. 

He comes across a video of Taehyung sitting in the apartment they once shared, painting. It had all started out serene and still, until Taehyung turned around with a rainbow of paint smeared across his face and the front of his clothes; both of them bursting into howling laughter. Jimin remembered this day clearly, and how they kissed as soon as the video cut. 

Jimin sets his phone down and sniffles sharply to clear the tears, he can’t cry anymore. At least that is what he has been telling himself lately since it has already been a year and his heart still aches like the breakup was yesterday.

In a moment of spite, Jimin takes out his phone once more and begins deleting all their photos. The pictures of special or silly text conversations he once adored and videos of Taehyung and him now tauntingly laughing at him. 

After the massacre of their once precious memories, Jimin sat his phone down and returns to the scenery for solace. Though Jimin only stares back at himself in the window’s mirroring. His lips and nose are stained pink, from the cold or the held back tears, he doesn’t know. But Jimin swears he can see Taehyung’s reflection beside him, hear his sweet nothings whispering love into his heart.

“Merry Christmas Jiminie~” he would say.

It had been Christmas Eve and Jimin had lost track of time as the cold sweat dripped off him. Jungkook and Jimin had been dancing for a solid five hours after their last classes of the day, which had ended somewhere near six. 

Jimin had been pushing both of them to perfect the choreography for the seasonal winter performance. Jungkook’s apartment had enough space for both of them to dance freely while the studio was closed—and that was another factor of Taehyung’s distraught. But when Jimin checked the time and saw that it was eleven o’clock dread flooded him as he knew he would be coming home to a disheartened boyfriend.

Jimin had bid his farewell to Jungkook and rushed from the apartment to his own home where he would have to sorrowfully slip inside the sheets beside an already asleep Taehyung. 

Jimin had missed Christmas Eve. But they hadn’t put up many decorations this year since they were both swamped with finals. So his absence on the holiday couldn't be that much of a big deal, right?

Jimin couldn’t have been more wrong. The moment he stepped through the door, tinsel and cut-out snowflakes in wild designs hung around every doorway and ceiling. And, a Christmas tree was fully decorated, glowing lonesomely in the dark as presents with Jimin’s name marked on them lay underneath. 

“Fuck,” was all Jimin could say as he saw Taehyung emerge from their bedroom.

“Oh, you’re here now.” Taehyung had said dully. 

“Baby-”

“No. Don’t baby me. Go baby Jungkook, you spend all day and all night with him, right?” Taehyung’s eyes were piercing in the dark and Jimin had fumbled for the light switch then.

 
“I lost track of time. I’m so sorry, Taehyung.” Jimin whispered as the guilt weighed heavier than a train on his shoulders. 

“Lost track of time?” Taehyung barked out a laugh. “Please, Jimin. We both know what you guys were doing. And I’ve known for a long time. Jungkook is cute, right? With his big eyes and big ass, yeah?”

“What? No, Taehyung that insane-”

“Oh, am I crazy? I really must be, huh, I set all this up in time for you to come home and decorate the tree with me. I am insane for thinking you’d choose me over him.” With every word, Jimin could hear how Taehyung’s throat tightened with the tears he held back. 

“N-no Taehyung, my love, that isn’t what happened! I’m sure there are some ornaments leftover, and we can have mochas and it'll just be a late Christmas Eve! It’ll be something new and fun-”

“No. It won’t be fun. You have a performance tomorrow and you need your sleep.” Even when Taehyung was heartbroken, he still tried to look out for Jimin.

“Nothing can undo what you did. I ha-had to set up the tree alone while you—you…” Taehyung had to stop himself now as tears made hiccups warp his words. 

Jimin’s first instinct was to wipe away Taehyung’s tears like he always did when his boyfriend was sad. Jimin hated seeing Taehyung unhappy, but now that it was him causing Taehyung’s tears he couldn’t bear it a second longer. 

Though the moment he reached Taehyung’s side, he flinched away. 

“Taehyungie, please… ” Jimin begged. All of this was mind-boggling to him, he hadn’t ever touched or thought of Jungkook in such a manner. Jimin’s heart had always belonged to Taehyung. And the silence that hovered between them was dreadful, but maybe not as dreadful as he thought, compared to Taehyung’s next words. 

“Get out.” Taehyung’s voice was just above a whisper.

“What do you me-”

“Get, out!” Taehyung shouted now as the tears streamed down his flushed face.

“Tae-” Jimin started but was shoved hard, making him stumble back. That was when his tears began to fall too.

“Baby, I luh-love you, please don’t do this.” Jimin sobbed pathetically as he reached for Taehyung’s warm embrace. Hugging always worked with Taehyung, always made things better. But in this case, it only made things worse. 

As soon as Jimin had his arms around Taehyung he could feel how distant his soulmate already was. There was no going back to the way things were. No hug could fix this. Taehyung had wriggled out of his arms and sobs heaved through Jimin making him nauseous, while he watched Taehyung go to the door and open it for him to leave. 

“Get out, Jimin.” 

Jimin had no choice but to leave and head into the biting, icy midnight with only the clothes on his back. He didn’t know where to go, his parents’ home was three hours away and even if he did get on the train, he had a performance tomorrow. Jimin never thought he would be abandoned so brutally by the boy he entrusted his entire heart with. 

Heartbreak stung more than the icy air on his skin. Jimin had bought a night at a hotel, but he wasn’t sure how long he could stay there with the minimal amount of money the college student had. 

He hoped that this argument of misunderstandings would blow over within a few days and they could return to how things were. So that he would be able to shower Taehyung with his affections before the younger had to move back to Busan because of his transfer of Universities that Taehyung was planning to do for the next semester. 

But when Jimin woke up the next day and found that Taehyung had blocked him on all his social accounts he knew Taehyung would not be there to cheer him on while he performed his months of practice that he had agonized over down to every step. Jimin had always danced for Taehyung, feeling Taehyung’s love from the audience. But there was no love for him on stage anymore, only stares from strangers that made his skin crawl. 

And when Jimin had returned to the apartment after, Taehyung was gone. All his things packed, leaving empty drawers and a glowing Christmas tree. Not even a note. Taehyung was gone.

Jimin startles awake by the conductor’s hand tapping his shoulder. He drowsily blinked his eyes up at the man before he came to his senses and saw that all the seats were empty in the train’s car. 

That Christmas Eve is the memory that plagues Jimin’s dreams most nights when he actually has the capacity to dream. It always left him disgruntled when he woke up, and became the start of a bad day.

“Sir, we have arrived at Busan station.” The man had said in a light voice as if he were happy to work on Christmas Eve. 

“Thank you.” Jimin hummed. He began wrapping his fallen out earbuds around his phone, letting the conductor take his over-packed luggage out of the overhead for him. Jimin smiles in appreciation, to be polite, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

He put back on his silly Santa hat with a newer and more stubborn determination to make this Christmas a turning point to get back on his feet again. Hot cocoa, cozy fleece blankets, and a Christmas playlist seemed like it had the power to manifest a better new year where he would be able to move on and find some sort of happiness. 

--------- 

The cab’s wheels crunch against the thin layer of snow as it pulls away from the curb to its treacherous trek on the icy roads. Jimin watches the vehicle’s headlights disappear in this overcast afternoon. He bides his time before he has to face his family completely unannounced with a broken heart. He hardly knew what to say, how to act. But he paints on his false smile like a clown in his makeup while he approaches the doorstep. Jimin raps his knuckles against the thick wooden door that adorns a wreath with a scarlet bow, holding his breath. 

A couple of knocks later he is still standing out in the frozen midday air. Jimin can hear his family’s rhapsodies inside laughing within those walls, oblivious to his pleading knocks. The windows were alight with detail-oriented decorations lining the frame with stringed lights. And when he peers inside the room looks like some kind of set for a Christmas drama. A scene of family, of his mother drinking tea by the fireplace idly. 

Jimin’s home was alive and warm, yet acted more unwelcoming than he had ever felt it to be. His happy clown smile was slowly getting smeared down his face as he gave the door his last rap before he would leave to find a hotel.

It came with much relief when his mother finally turned around with a bemused look on her face. She squints out the window at Jimin’s form on the porch and he hastily fixes his Santa hat on his head.

“Jimin?!” Her voice had been muffled through the walls, but it must have been loud seeing as he could hear it outside. Jimin waved once with a half-smile still carrying his expression.

She rushed to the door, disappearing from the view the window gave. As soon as the door opened he was face to face with the parent most of his features took after—even when they were twisted with shock like hers are now.

“Merry Christmas, mama.” Jimin chuckles awkwardly at his mother’s blatant expression. She stood in the doorway, still grasping a hold of the doorknob in a frozen, dumbfounded state and Jimin begins to shift nervously on his feet. He is beginning to wonder if that look of shock was moreover a look of disgust. But within the next minute or so she shakes her head almost as if she were clearing it, pulling him by the shoulders into a tight hug.

“Jimin, I missed you so much— why didn’t you call? I would have picked you up from the station, I would have bought more presents, I would have—”

“Mama, it's okay. I don’t exactly have presents for anyone— yet. So I don’t know if I would be able to return the favor.” Jimin’s voice had grown lower and lower with guilt as he spoke. He completely forgot about getting gifts for his parents, though in Jimin’s defense he didn’t think he would be at their doorstep at all today.

“No, darling, it's a gift that you're even here. I’m just so glad you were able to make it. Taehyung said you were stuck at your apartment because of the winter stage, I hope you didn’t blow that off for us.” She said. Jimin’s brows stitch together as he looks over his mother bemused. When did Taehyung say that? And why would he say that? 

Though the mention of his name being spoken aloud was enough to poke another sore into his wounded heart. 

This is a strange misunderstanding… Maybe Taehyung had tried to tell his parents they broke up but never got to the end, or, they had just refused the information altogether. Their families were in love with their children being in love, so denial may be the first stage to acceptance. Either way, it doesn’t matter what they want anymore, Taehyung is out of Jimin’s life now. Jimin would have to tell his parents on his own about what happened eventually.

“Come in, come in. It's freezing. We just started cooking dinner~” His mother babbles excitedly with the same smile Jimin remembers from when they were both much younger. Him a child, her a young adult.

Jimin follows his mother’s lead through the door lugging his suitcase after him and into the surprisingly warm house. His parents must have finally fixed the heater after all these years. 

“Pilwoo! Jimin is here!” She shouts to his father who is missing from the living room they stood in. This announcement was immediately returned with another shout from the kitchen.

“What? Jimin is here?!” His father’s voice is much more powerful and exaggeratedly startled than his mother’s tone initially. 

“I’m here!” He was wanting to join in with this game of shouting, finding it heartwarming that his family was so excited to see him. Jimin always liked being the center of attention. And a bright laugh sings from Jimin as he watches his father emerge frantically from the kitchen, but someone is following behind him with their head held low. Their head of hair was a vibrant red, freshly dyed like it was just in time for the holiday. 

Jimin didn’t focus on them for too long because he saw Taehyung’s parents emerge soon after them. They were still close friends so it wasn’t much of a surprise to see them over to share the holiday, but that didn’t stop Jimin from feeling on edge. It wasn’t fair to end his parents’ friendships because of a failed romance, so he would have to endure. At least it was only Taehyung’s parents and not their child here himself.

Jimin blinks at the collection of people now standing in the living room with the attention centered on him expectantly. Did they expect him to break out into dance? 

Jimin chuckles stiffly as he reaches a hand up to fiddle with his earring. The thought of being left out of the activities his parents were clearly hosting for the holiday if he didn’t show, made his heart fall. But his father didn’t give him much of a chance to sulk before he grabbed him hardily into a bear hug.

“Son, I’m glad you’re here. Did you miss me, the best papa in the world?” Jimin cringes, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He shimmied out of the oppressing hold while his father snickers at his own words. Yes, Jimin got his ego from his father.

“I did,” he let out a sigh, giving his father a thin-lipped smile before turning to the others. “And, hello Mr. and Mrs. Kim.” Jimin greets with a deep bow, privately apologizing for the wrongs he has done to their son with the depth of it. 

“Jimin, I’m happy you could make it.” Taehyung’s father smiles warmly. He was a quiet man, very observant from working in the fields, but he was sincere. An old soul. His wife eagerly steps forward to Jimin’s side and begins looking him up and down with serious scrutiny. 

“Jimin you grew! You’re taller than the last time I saw you.” Taehyung’s mother beams, giving him a quick hug as well. She had always matched his own mother’s elated personality, if not more. It’s what made them such good friends.

“I was so worried about you being in Seoul all alone. But when Taehyung came home for Christmas we came here thinking, maybe, you might be home too, to see Taehyungie. But you weren’t here,” her bottom lip jutting out childishly as she crosses her arms over her chest, “but we stayed anyway because the more people together for Christmas the better, right? And he missed you so terribly, we had to wait and hope.” She nods to the scarlet-haired boy.

Jimin’s attention shifts onto that curly head of hair now and everything clicks. It clicks and stops. As if they were in the room alone and time had stopped for the second it took for him to lift his head and present his face.

“Jimin,” Taehyung starts. Jimin was about to turn on his heel to walk out the door, “I didn’t think you would come. ” Even through Taehyung curled bangs, Jimin can see the spite dwelling in his deep brown eyes. With that, Jimin’s blood begins to boil, evaporating the sadness that had seeped into his bones. Jimin forgot how angry he really was, how his heart yearned for revenge to show how he really felt. Jimin rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek, annoyance flaring. This is Jimin’s home. Jimin’s safe haven, not anyone else’s, especially Taehyung. He was no longer welcome in Jimin’s home.

Jimin narrows his usually soft, downturned eyes into sharp slits alike cold and unforgiving daggers. Jimin wanted to be with his parents to heal, not for Taehyung to randomly flaunt his face around like he owned the place. 

“And I thought you were going to stay away. ” Jimin said. He raises his shaped brows mockingly at Taehyung while he crosses his arms tightly over his chest, squaring his shoulders. 

The tension was obvious and their parents were stilled into silence while observing the two with confusion at their unnerving glares. Jimin didn’t care. Let them watch, let Taehyung tell them how he kicked Jimin to the curb as some excuse for why Taehyung fell out of love. 

Jimin had thought if he ever saw Taehyung after this year’s worth of self-pity, he would fall to his knees and cry on cue. But now as he laid his cruel stare upon Taehyung, the one who broke his spirit, all he saw was red. 

“Why? Do you not want me here~?” slipping in his satoori to help feign innocence, “are you going to kick me out into the snow?” 

“Okay,” Taehyung’s father steps in as he puts his hand on his son’s shoulder, “Let’s get on with the evening, there is still Bulgogi to be cooked.” He let his hand fall after a squeeze and leaves to the kitchen with his wife following.

“Yes, and thank you for bringing the Japchae. I should really get back to cooking…” Jimin’s mother trails off, turning toward Pilwoo. “Oh no, wait, I also meant to decorate the tree. I can’t do both and you can’t do it. You have no attention to detail or aesthetic,” She smiles cheekily as his father frowns at the putdown. It was true, he once threw a strand of lights on the tree and called it “organic”. 

“Taehyungie, you’re the artist here. Do you think you could take my place?” She beams a persuasive smile and Taehyung nods eagerly. 

“I love decorating. No problem.”

Suck up. Jimin feels like a child when his mother was mad at him then turned to his father with a grand smile and soft tone. Only he got to see the nasty side of Taehyung and everyone else got all his smiles.

“Jimin you should help him. It’s a big tree, a two-person job.” She adds much to Jimin’s dismay.

 
“What? No.” Jimin blurts out, taking a step back as if he could step out of the conversation. “We aren’t-”

But before Jimin can finish his sentence an arm slithers around his waist breaking his train of thought, Taehyung’s arm. 

“—Of course! Don’t worry about it, we got it covered for you,” and he tilts his head cutely with that boxy smile of his. 

Jimin is inept to Taehyung’s motives and becomes increasingly unhappy the more Taehyung’s arm tightens around him, rendering his thought process. Why did Taehyung hold him like that after the glare he just endured? What kind of game was Taehyung playing? 

Jimin turns his head to send Taehyung his icy glare, his skin crawling at how close their faces are. Though his glare wavers, his eyes leading down, consuming what Taehyung has become within their time apart. Attempting to replace the old memory of the Taehyung he used to know, with this sly one now that Jimin could see him up close, the one thing that really stood out was his vivid hair color.

Taehyung’s hair had always been natural. Sure, he had known Taehyung to style it, curly, with too much hairspray. But he never dyes. And a striking red for the supposed first dye treatment? If anything Jimin had thought Taehyung would merely go a shade or two up from his natural umber. His skin was honeyed too, like he had spent the semester sunbathing in Busan’s beaches. Jimin remembers how pale the other had been from staying in and sketching fruit all the time last year when they lived together in Seoul. 

Taehyung had changed. Almost like he was more confident to be free without Jimin. 

Admittedly Jimin had changed too—though only subtly in his opinion. Jimin is quieter now, only speaks when he is obligated to, wears heavier makeup, buys more jewelry to fill the void and spend the extra money he would have used to purchase sporadic gifts for Taehyung. But Taehyung looked naturally better, it radiated off the way he held his shoulders. Jimin just looks sad and maybe a bit self-obsessed. 

Jimin being both infuriated and dreadfully flustered, he swipes away Taehyung’s arm and leaves the room briskly with his luggage in tow without a look back.

Jimin scrapes the wheels of his heavy suitcase up the stairs raucously as moreover an audible statement of his annoyance, then makes his escape to his old bedroom down the hall. His nose crinkles at the musky teenage-boy scent of deodorant and pure rank, that still lingers after all these years. He’s relieved in this moment that he had discovered the pros of showering daily and wearing cologne, specifically Chanel’s cologne—that Taehyung used to get him every year for his birthday.

Once he was sure the door was sealed behind himself, he heaves a long-strained groan from his chest, mimicking the sound of his heart deflating. This was not going as Jimin had pictured in his head when he convinced himself to board the train. Now he’d have to relive the worst day of his life and act out decorating the tree he never did with Taehyung. 

Jimin purses his lips as he removes the Santa hat from his head, tossing it on the dresser while regretting the idea of even trying to be festive. Jimin definitely did not feel in the mood for festivities now. 

While he gravitates to stand in front of the mirror, he brushes his fingers through his silver hair, pulling at the ends. It had been blonde the last time Taehyung saw him but somewhere along the condescending timeline of after Taehyung Jimin had acquired a desire to change his physical appearance to match how he felt, colorless. Grey. Though it turned out to be less of a dull color, but a gleaming silver that reflects a shine under light with a dramatic undercut. 

Jimin leans in close to the mirror, making his equally silver earrings swing. His heavily smoked out eye makeup remains unscathed from the day’s travel. Jimin discriminates the lightly applied false freckles scattering across the bridge of his nose to the apples of his cheeks and sighs curtly. He is happy enough with what he sees, but he couldn’t help but feel ridiculous. He was trying too hard to look like a different person. A person who no longer needed love, that could play the field without feeling attached.

Taehyung didn’t fashion himself like a new person, he looks the same but refreshed.  

Taehyung must have truly moved on and found that inner confidence in himself Jimin knew he lacks sometimes. Whereas Jimin just applied more makeup to hide under. And for what this new look brought him, all the opportunities Jimin has gotten to move on with someone else, he shot them down ruthlessly.

No one was Taehyung. And Jimin didn’t want anyone who wasn’t Taehyung.

------

Taehyung hears the sound of Jimin’s two-inch heeled boots clacking as he descends from the staircase, flinching with every step Jimin takes. Taehyung is both intimidated and irritated that Jimin now matches his height with those dreadfully attractive studded boots, because it made him feel smaller somehow.

Taehyung doesn’t know what he expects when he inevitably would see Jimin again, but it wasn’t this. His piercing eyes with that silver hair glinting like a dagger. Everything about Jimin was sharp and almost provocative, the way he dressed, even the way he moved. Jimin had definitely matured from the boyishly charming style Taehyung had been accustomed with, had loved. 

Taehyung tries hanging the ornaments thoughtfully, though his head was scrambled with Jimin’s current effect on him. He would hang an ornament after much thought, yet ends up re-hanging it on the second branch being over indecisive. 

He was having a strong moment of Déjà vu while he decorates this tree alone, again. It sends cold shivers over his perceivably warm honeyed skin when he thinks back to the last time he ornamented a tree, waiting for the one he loved to come home. He wishes he hadn’t been so eager to decorate the tree seeing as Jimin obviously didn’t plan on helping him. 

It made the dread sit heavily in his chest, he needs to explain their current situation. There was a rather big problem at hand that involved both of them.

“Are you sure that's a good place?” Jimin’s voice taunts from behind him. Taehyung turns around from the ornament he re-hung for the third time to see Jimin uncrossing an arm from his chest and leisurely gesturing back to the very gingerbread cookie ornament he was stressing on.

Taehyung sighs as a frown deepens in the corners of his lips. He gazes back at the ornament thoughtfully, trying to think of a better place to hang it on the fairly empty tree, but he fails as the picture of Jimin’s lips brushing while he uttered those words becomes the forefront of his mind. This is wrong, he shouldn’t think about these things after what he’s been through. After all the neglect and constant show of boredom Jimin gave him during the relationship. But the truth was, Taehyung has never stopped loving Jimin, and it was clear to him now that he may never get over him. 

“I think it’s okay…” Taehyung mumbles. He takes the judgmental tease much too seriously than Jimin probably intends, causing a looming tensity to the atmosphere in the room. Taehyung picks up another ornament from the box he opened earlier. This one is a simple ball, golden and shimmering with silver glitter in swirling patterns around the circumference. 

“Well, it would look better over there.” Jimin furthers his torment on that damn gingerbread man ornament. Taehyung swallows thickly to keep Jimin from tearing him down, feeling beyond sensitive to Jimin’s criticism. But only because he had never experienced it. Jimin’s lips have never dripped anything but love into his ear. So Taehyung isn’t used to this tone, clipped and wry, making him want to hide under the sheets and cry. But he has to be stronger than this if he didn’t want his lie to fall through.

“Then why don’t you do it? You’re the one watching me do all the work,” he tries mimicking Jimin’s tone, but much to his chagrin it sounded meek. 

Jimin puckers his lips then sucked on his front teeth loudly as some kind of sassy rebuttal. And Taehyung finds this wordless reply as a win, and as his cue to begin explaining their problem. 

“So,” he begins, his voice deep and rich as he tries to reset the atmosphere from tense to calm. His back is to Jimin as he faces the tree, his gold ornament in hand, “I know it’s weird, and you’re not going to like it any more than I will-”

“What is it Taehyung?” Jimin snaps, his silvery timbre stabbing Taehyung from behind, “and don’t make excuses, I’ve heard enough of those from you.” Jimin finishes impudently as he sits down, draping himself on the loveseat farthest from Taehyung. The weight of Jimin’s eyes cripples Taehyung as he turns to meet them after hanging the golden ornament. 

“Well… I, um, tried telling our parents about, you know, what happened. But they interrupted me halfway through with some story of us when we were in high school and how proud they were of us… and I couldn’t be the bearer of bad news on Christmas.”

“They think we are still together? That’s what you’re saying? Taehyung, what the hell- ”

“I tried! Okay? I tried but… I didn’t want to break their hearts .” Taehyung says pointedly as he turns around to face the serpent that had slithered into his garden of Eden. Taehyung has fooled himself at the beginning of this past year, that he would do good on his own in a new university, in a city away from Jimin cultivating a fresh start. Like he could go back to living in Eden and find solace.

Yet slowly, Jimin’s temptation and internal chains around Taehyung’s heart tightened, imprisoning him with only the thought of Jimin. Taehyung would see things in clothing boutiques and rush to them as if he were about to show it to the phantom of his love. Even scrolling through his phone, he would find something he knew Jimin would like, and he’d have the muscle memory urging him to send it. But he never did. The number of times Taehyung had drunk himself into a stupor with one of his new wilder friends and had Jimin's number right under his thumb.... was more than he could count. Though he never dialed, refusing to be the one who gave in first.

What would Taehyung even say to him anyway? Accuse and rant about how heartbroken he felt? Or beg and sob over the phone for Jimin to come over and hold him. But in any scenario, Taehyung had expected Jimin to be understanding, maybe even feel sorry for what he had done. But seeing that in reality, Jimin is cold and unrecognizable.

Jimin eyes Taehyung as if he were an alien standing on a pedestal. It made Taehyung genuinely feel like some green alien. He wanted to rip off his skin to show Jimin just how shattered he felt inside. Taehyung anticipated Jimin to pick him apart verbally under his judging glare, to taunt him about his red hair, about his new clothes, anything, but it never came.

Taehyung only got a nod as if to say without words that Jimin would play along with their ‘little’ lie. Maybe Jimin did understand, but only when it came to his parents’ image.

Taehyung knew Jimin always wanted to show his parents the best side of him, the side that danced meticulously, that was kind and mannered to everyone he met. But Taehyung knew best out of everyone how Jimin wasn't the symbol of perfection, and that is who he had fallen in love with. Not the perfect Jimin, but the imperfect Jimin that had fallen more times during practice than he could count. 

The sound of heavy footsteps approaching pulled their stares away from each other and to Taehyung's father who presumably was sent to check on them. And on cue, Jimin rises from his leisured sitting position and takes an ornament from the open box Taehyung has been picking from. Jimin slips his arm around Taehyung's soft waist as he hangs the bulb randomly on the richly pine-scented tree. They could have been the poster-child of a domestic couple, but Jimin is a great actor—and Taehyung almost believes it.

Taehyung has gone stiff by the suddenly intimate hold that presses their hips together in a way he hasn't felt in a long time. Jimin is still just as toned as when they were together, maybe even bulkier. In the back of his mind, he quietly hopes that Jimin has been taking care of himself.

Taehyung still doesn’t understand why Jimin hadn't been there last Christmas when he needed Jimin the most. When Taehyung needed Jimin to prove he would choose him over Jungkook. They had been in love for so long Taehyung thought nothing could come between them, could ever break their bond. But Jimin's choice was Jungkook. And Taehyung had to live with that.

"How's the tree going you two?" Taehyung's father hums with a glass full of crimson so thick it almost looked like blood rather than wine. His question was short and to the point, as they always were with Taehyung's father. He wasn’t much of a talker. And he must've bought the act presented to him upon arrival and already wanted to return to the happening in the kitchen.

"Taehyung did most of this while I was unpacking upstairs, but he's been doing a lovely job." His timbre is something silvery and delicate, a remnant of what Taehyung remembers. It was hard to keep the false smile to his face. Taehyung was no actor, his heart had more leverage over his actions than his mind.

"Thanks... baby ." The endearment sounding foreign on his tongue. He hates how this pet-name that he called Jimin once, is now clipping sharp enough to fork his tongue.

Yet his father shrugs at their act and leaves briskly while Jimin easily lets his arm around Taehyung fall, and with that fall, so did Taehyung's heart. They had only just begun this act and he doesn’t know how much longer he could bear to portray this lie—he has a gut feeling that this would have a bad ending. 

Jimin hurt him, and Taehyung was falling into this lie that shows him glimpses of the love he yearns for. Jimin had lied and cheated, Taehyung had to accept that there was never love, that it was all momentary infatuation. Taehyung had to forgive and forget.

Jimin wordlessly hung ornament after ornament as the soft tune of a jazzy Christmas playlist resided in the background, courteous of their parents who had just turned it on. They fell into a pattern of hanging ornaments and Taehyung asks if where he places them looks alright to Jimin. And it’s the first genuine smile Jimin gives Taehyung when he whines at Jimin for moving a bulb he just hung. Slowly, Jimin takes a few steps closer to Taehyung as they decorate the tree, naturally gravitating to each other like magnets. Taehyung worries on his bottom lip from between his teeth, stealing side-eyed glances at Jimin who looks so painstakingly hot. 

When the tree was finished, all the glittering and detailed ornaments hung just to Taehyung's liking, he looks over again to Jimin and catches him staring. A surge of electricity sparked in his veins as he immediately looks down. Why is Jimin staring? Did he not like Taehyung's new hair?

"I'm checking out the kitchen." Jimin says with nonchalance in disregard of their silent moment, making Taehyung question entirely whether it happened or not. Maybe Jimin had only glanced at him as well, a passing look. It was only a look.

"Okay,” Taehyung swallows the word, though Jimin's back was already turned as he headed toward the kitchen.

Taehyung could guess what Jimin is heading in there for, he could smell it too. The cinnamon, mulling spice, oranges, and syrup all brewing in a serenade that could attract anyone. He knew that was Jimin’s favorite part of the season, the mulled wine. He often made it for Jimin back when they lived in that apartment together as the colder months arrived. Taehyung looked back on those days with such love, but also envy for what he used to have.

Taheyung stood back for a moment, debating whether another scene with Jimin in front of their parents was worth the glass of mulled wine. But he feels like an outcast as soon as he hears Jimin's twinkling laughter from the kitchen.

  Why can't I make Jimin laugh like that?

Why?

Why?

Why?

Insecurity was Taehyung's downfall. It always has been. From the color of his hair to the clothes he wears, to the way he speaks and the words he said. Whether how long his friends would still enjoy his company, to how long it would take for Jimin to fall in love with someone much better than himself. And when Jungkook had become Jimin's dance partner, Taehyung knew he had already lost.

And the way Jimin is dressed so lavishly this evening, as if Jungkook were right about to walk in the door any moment to grab Jimin up in his muscled arms. And that was Taehyung's biggest fear at the moment, whether that doorbell would ring with the unexpected company from Jimin's new boyfriend. The one Jimin loved more than Taehyung.

At least, he thinks, I had the courage to end it before Jimin did. At least I was smart enough to see it.

Courage is a lie. Taehyung feels like a coward, he backed out of the relationship as soon as he had a doubt.

Taehyung saunters into the modest kitchen that could still squeeze in six people. Everyone clusters in the corner of the room laughing as he came in, making Taehyung think they were laughing at him. But soon a stream of jokes follows, reassuring him that he isn’t their subject of gossip. He never feels like an outcast more than he does now with even his parents in that clique-like huddle with Jimin.

Taehyung didn't know how he could join them, or even if they would accept him. He looks for an idea and his eyes land on Jimin's lithe frame leaning against the wall with a glass in his hand. So, Taehyung made himself a stemless bulb glass of the simmering wine just like Jimin is holding. He approaches the crowd slowly and looks for a way to make them acknowledge his presence when all their eyes were on Jimin like he was the center of the galaxy.
Taehyung rests his chin on Jimin's shoulder and leans into his back, holding his glass below his waist considerately to not accidentally slosh onto Jimin's clothes. Though it wouldn't matter since Jimin was in all black. It’s uncommon for Jimin to be so colorless, Taehyung remembers all the flamboyant cardigans Jimin had collected and had hung in the closet like a rainbow. It kind of looked as if Jimin was mourning now in his chic all-black attire. 

Jimin stiffens subtly at the surprising weight on his shoulder, and it made Taehyung feel even more alienated in this circle than he already felt. His presence wasn't wanted.

"Taehyungie, I was wondering where you were~" A flirtatious tone laces Jimin's voice, using his free hand to caress his check. Taehyung let a truly pleased purr pass his lips as the warm hand brought heat to his face, a blush that Taehyung had never felt more flustered over. But he knew it's all for show. He’s falling for the trap, forgetting every promise he made to himself to not forgive this snake.

And yet he still questions himself. What was there that needed to be forgiven? Jimin never got to explain himself because Taehyung didn’t want to hear the truth that night, it would have hurt too much then. And being stubborn now, he was coercing himself to not concede, forcing the memory forefront of how Jimin was absent on Christmas Eve because of Jungkook. 

No matter what Jimin’s truth is about that night, Jungkook’s name would irrevocably stab his heart.

“Ah, Taehyung! We were just talking about Jimin’s dance flops.” Jimin’s mother teases and though Taehyung couldn’t see Jimin’s face he could tell by the way his body physically cringes that he was rolling his eyes. Taehyung kisses his teeth and removes his chin from Jimin’s shoulder, needing the fresh air before he succumbs to the seductive cologne Jimin lured him in with. 

“There aren’t many of those to talk about, Jimin is always perfect,” he protests. He knew how hard Jimin worked to perfect choreos that it hardly seems fair to be laughed at for his few missteps. But what could they expect from the professional ballerina Jimin’s mother had been. 

“Yes, now he has improved a lot.” Jimin’s father praises easily glancing over Taehyung’s shoulder, looking longingly at the pots on the stove. 

“Well, Taehyung, how is your art fairing these days?” Jimin’s mother asks the very question he had been dreading over. Taehyung looks down into his cup and takes a slow sip to stall the answer he would have to give. 

Taehyung couldn’t paint anymore, the one thing that he loves, has fallen with the love he has for Jimin; his muse. And after everything Taehyung had loved in life fell, slipping through his slender fingers like grains of sand, all he could see was grey. His world became dull and grainy like an old film that no one liked but watched anyway because it was a supposed “classic”. Taehyung watched too many of those once he was settled into his new dorm, and his life had become one.

Though, one day only fairly recently he grew tired of this grey world, woken up filled with rage at how Jimin could destroy him like this. How Jimin had taken away his paintbrush and left his large wide palm empty and meaningless. All he saw was red. Taehyung had thrown a fit, destroying half the things in his side of the dorm. Snapping his CD’s, tearing his half-hearted sketches in half, and tossing the sketchbook in the trash altogether. 

But it was marvelous, the color red. Taehyung welcomed it, inviting that one color hoping the other’s would soon follow. So, when he finally saw the brilliant rainbow again, he dyed his hair a vibrant red as a statement and in a respectful remembrance of coming out of his slump. 

Taehyung’s color was red. A furious, bleeding wound red. 

“I have an art block at the moment, but it’ll get better with time.” Taehyung says carefully not to look at Jimin. 

“That’s a good way of thinking, I hope things get better, easier.” Jimin’s mother nods with a soft smile. “Well, the last decoration on the to-do list is mistletoe~” she continues changing the heavy subject. Taehyung’s mother hummed wistfully looking at his father, making him cringe.

“Why don’t our two young lovebirds be the first to get caught under it while hanging it?” Taehyung’s mother suggests, beaming as she hands Taehyung the little ribbon tied collection of flora she has been fidgeting with as they spoke. Taehyung’s brow hardens as he stares at the horrible weed, trying to manifest it bursting into flames. The last thing Taehyung wants to do is kiss Jimin right now. 

He knows that would be the end of their act. Jimin would be able to see him crumble and show that, for Taehyung, his love wasn’t over. Because Taehyung hates Jimin deeply, but loves him unconditionally. And Taehyung would beg Jimin to take him back if he had the courage. 

Taehyung crushes the mistletoe in his hand subtly as he glares down at it, while the group disperses to give the two privacy. Taehyung’s heart pounded against his ribcage when he met Jimin’s dark eyes. 

“Come on, let’s get this over with.” Jimin sighs, rolling his eyes as he takes Taehyung’s sleeve and pulls him under the doorframe of the kitchen. Their parents were all sat in the next room by their Christmas tree. A hush had fallen over them and Taehyung could feel their prying eyes on them. 

Taehyung couldn’t control the wetness gathering in the corner of his eyes as his shallow breath quickens, looking at Jimin with pleading eyes. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t kiss Jimin after all the times he has imagined their lips greeting once more in a pretentious reunion within his dreams. There were too many times during his grey period he wanted nothing more than to be kissed by Jimin as if that would make all the pain go away. Taehyung had lost his boyfriend, and his best friend when they split up. He had no one to tell him everything was going to be okay. 

“Jimin… I can’t do this,” Taehyung whispers looking frantic as he side-eyed their parents who were holding their breaths in anticipation. Jimin followed his gaze and lifted his shoulders, shrugging it off. Taehyung felt like he was being put up on a stage and he had forgotten all his lines, the spotlights blinding him. And Jimin was unreadable, his eyes were dark, void of emotion, his expression impassive. Jimin didn’t care. 

“Don’t make a big deal out of it. It’s just a kiss, not a fuck.” Jimin said with nonchalance though it cut through Taehyung, making his shoulders drop, falling in on himself. Taehyung’s lips parted to dart his tongue over the swell of his sore lip--gnawing on it too much with worry--his brows pulling together with hurt.

“Jimin?” Taehyung breathes as the lump in his throat begins to choke him. The tears that had procreated at an alarming rate were threatening to spill over, they already were wetting his lashes. 

“Taehyung. This was your idea. You wanted me to play along, right?” Jimin snatches the mistletoe from his grasp and finds the tac that had been already placed for them on the door frame. Taehyung sniffs hard, trying to drain his welling tears.

“No, not like this… Jimin, stop.” He grabs Jimin’s delicate hand as electricity prickles through him at the touch. 

I love you, you can’t do this to me.

But Jimin manages to hang the mistletoe even through Taehyung’s wrestling for everything to stop moving so quickly.

And when Jimin stands before him with an expectant look, Taehyung kisses him. It was so sudden that Taehyung hardly knew what he was doing. He’s kissing Jimin hard, sucking at his thick bottom lip as hot tears stream down his red cheeks. Taehyung wanted this so bad, but he wants the real version where Jimin would kiss him back. Jimin hadn’t moved an inch, his lips pliable but motionless and unfeeling. Kissing a pillow would have more emotion than Jimin. 

Taehyung cups Jimin’s sharp cheeks as he pulls him closer, physically begging for his touch. He wants to feel Jimin kiss him one last time, to remember what it’s like because that memory is fading. Their memories were burning into that dull grey film in Taehyung's mind, a classic that nobody wanted to watch. 

But Jimin’s lips were not Taehyung’s anymore, they were Jungkook’s. Only meant to worship Jungkook. Perhaps that was the reason why Jimin didn’t return the kiss, because he wouldn’t cheat on the one he really loves, right? And suddenly Taehyung doesn’t hate Jungkook anymore, there is no point. Taehyung has lost Jimin and hadn’t fought for him. And he had shown up out of the blue to Jimin’s house, invading his space. Taehyung is cowardly and selfish. This kiss was fucking selfish. 

Taehyung rips himself away from Jimin as if he was suddenly burned by the skin he touched. And when he looks at Jimin, his eyes are still closed, Taehyung’s tears shining on Jimin’s cheeks, and his lips flushed from Taehyung’s envious kiss. 

A broken cry flew from Taehyung’s throat as his heart shattered once more, and he doesn't care now that everyone is watching them, seeing the truth. Because this visual was easier than explaining to his parents in the detail they wanted to hear on how they had fallen apart. 

“I love you, Jimin. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I couldn’t stay away, and that I can’t fight it. And I hope Jungkook gives you things that I didn’t give to you.” He whispers while Jimin’s eyes flutter open reflecting with their own tears.

“What? Taehyung- that’s not-” Jimin’s voice shook at this new revelation, but Taehyung was already running upstairs. Running away, again.

Taehyung doesn’t know where to go, and even though this is like a second home to him, he wasn't welcome. This isn’t his home anymore, and he has no right to be curled up in Jimin's old bed sobbing out his heartbreak. But there was nowhere else Taehyung could think of hiding other than Jimin's room because even still, the thought of Jimin brought comfort. Taehyung tries to remember the way Jimin made him feel during those good times as if that would give him solace, that Jimin once loved him too. But there were only bits and pieces within the shaded grey areas. And the looming question hung, When did Jimin fall out of love with me?

There had to be signs of lost love from Jimin, and yet Taehyung had never picked up on them until Jimin started staying late at the dance studio with Jungkook.

But Taehyung's safe haven in Jimin’s room hadn't been lonesome for long as he heard a light knock at the door he had slammed shut. He would have locked it too if there were actually a lock on the knob to begin with.

"Can... Can I come in?" That silvery voice sounded deflated, almost regretful. Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut tight, trying to clear the tears that stung his eyes. He wasn't sure he wanted Jimin to see him like this, a blubbering mess of tears and snot. But the door creaked open slowly letting the light from the hallway creep inside the desolate room.

"Leave me alone." Taehyung hiccuped as he clutched a pillow and hugged onto it.

"No. Not this time. And, this is my room you know." Jimin says as he closes the door behind him with a soft click. The soft tap of Jimin's boots came closer until Taehyung felt a dip on the end of the bed where Jimin was supposedly sitting, though Taehyung refused to look at the older.

"We need to talk about that night, Taehyung. Because you still have the wrong idea... I never cheated on you. Jungkook had never been in the picture, he was my dance partner, Taehyung. You know how professional I am about that stuff." Jimin says with fervor, as if Taehyung's observations had been absurd. But Taehyung didn't interject, he couldn't find his voice at the moment between his silent sobs.

"Taetae... please, believe me." His tone is strained and for a moment it sounded as wrecked as Taehyung felt. He opens his bleary eyes and looks through the thick darkness to Jimin with burning tears streaming down his face. Jimin's face is twisted with anguish, he's rubbing his forehead harshly as his eyes shine with forming tears.

Taehyung hasn’t heard that embarrassing nickname in so long, he almost forgot it was an endearment between them.

"You left me ah-alone on Christmas, Jimin. I decorated the house for hours, just for you, and you never showed!" He cries as he wipes his cheek with the heel of his hand to rid some of the tears, though it was futile as more kept pouring down like sheeting rain.

"I did..." Jimin concedes, "And I can't tell you how much I fucking hate myself for it. It was the biggest mistake of my life. I don't think you understand how much I love you Taehyung." He chuckles trying to lighten his heavy words, though his voice was thick, an octave lower than usual.

Taehyung pulls his lip between his teeth when Jimin says love instead of loved.

"My life without you... It's been hell. When you left, you took my soul with you."

"Now you know how I feel." Taehyung retorts snarkily, sniffling as the pour of tears began wearing him out.

"Taehyung... I wish I could say something that-- that explained how I feel down to the tiniest detail, like a grand profession of love and sorrow... but I've never been good at that, you know that." Jimin sighs shakily as he sniffles sharply, keeping his tears at bay.

"But, how could I know how to tell you that every day I wake up and you're not next to me, that this-- this immense dread and loneliness slowly eats me whole. I can't function. I can hardly breathe anymore. I wake up and I love you more and more-" Jimin's voice broke, a whimper falling from those precious lips.

"Jimin-"

"No, let me finish." Jimin cuts Taehyung off as he got off the bed and went to kneel in front of Taehyung's laying form. He took Taehyung's hands that were damp from wiping away tears, and held them tight in his, bowing his head to them. Taehyung's heart was sporadically thumping at this gesture, unsure of what to do or say in the silence that took over in this moment.

"Kim Taehyung, on everything that I am, everything that we were, I promise- I promise if you let me prove to you that I've never loved anyone but you, will you give me another chance? I won't mess up, I won't give you doubt-"

"Jimin," Taehyung tried to interrupt the begging boy and sit up, wiping the remains of his tears. Taehyung takes his hands out of Jimin's and he swears he saw Jimin's heartbreak devastate his features by the action. The heavy stream of tears made Jimin's makeup slowly smear down his face.

"Taehyung, please... please I love you." Jimin's face fell in his hands while his shoulders shook with the sob that wracks through his small body on the floor at Taehyung's mercy. And for a moment Taehyung doesn't know what to do. He doesn’t know where all this was coming from, Jimin had been cold since the moment he arrived. Is this fake too? Is this part of the act?

"Jimin," Taehyung tries to continue his previous sentence, "Kiss me."

Jimin lifted his head from his hands slowly and eyed Taehyung with confused glass-like eyes. "Wuh-what?" Jimin asked fragilely through a hiccup.

"Seal your promise with a kiss." Taehyung sniffles, taking Jimin's face in the wide expanse of his gentle palms to pull him the tearful boy to his lips. Even if this was fake, Taehyung still wants his kiss to be returned.

And Jimin kisses him this time. Not in the way he used to, but as if they were anew. And Jimin isn’t shying away now. He licks over Taehyung's lips and into his mouth slowly. Jimin's hands gravitate into Taehyung’s mullet, easily getting his fingers tangled in the mess of curls. Jimin was pulling him desperately closer. 

No one kissed Taehyung like Jimin did. It was something Taehyung had learned over their year apart. No one could ever compare. It was like Jimin was memorizing the curve of his lips and the taste of his tongue. Jimin kisses him like he’s putting the meaning of love into a physical touch of tongues. 

The kiss slows to nothing more than Jimin’s lips pillowing his upper lip—letting Taehyung take his bottom because he remembers how Taehyung loves to suck on his plump lip. Taehyung had to pull away from Jimin to breathe, he had been drinking Taehyung in like an alcoholic that hadn’t had a beer in ages. And If Taehyung thought his kiss was selfish, Jimin had clearly proved him wrong in the most swelling display of his craving. When Taehyung pulls back, it's with a graze of his teeth tugging at Jimin’s thick bottom lip, and he sucks lightly—opening his heavy lids to descry Jimin’s luxuriant lashes shadowing his cheeks as he watches their lips. The soft suck ends with a quiet pop as their lips end their melody. 

Now the dark didn’t seem so heavy, their eyes had adjusted and Taehyung could make out Jimin’s breathless expression. Jimin is a dancer, he could hold his panting breath till it quiets down. Taehyung couldn’t, his heart was racing and aching and he had to place his clammy hand over his chest to ground himself. 

"Why—” Taehyung couldn't help but ask as he puffs out heavy breaths, “Why didn't you kiss me back earlier?" 

Taehyung had forgotten how good Jimin looked in the dark. How his eyes became narrow and beguiling, luring Taehyung to swim in their depths with the lurking sirens.

"I, um…” Jimin trails off while he looks down to his hands now laying palm up in his lap like he was trying to grasp his thoughts. It was a rare sighting to see Jimin lose his cool, and it had Taehyung’s eyes captive by the image of Jimin who was at a loss for words. 

“I was shocked, I kind of had a mental orgasm." Jimin chuckles savory and rich, wiping away the remnants of the wetness under his eyes--smearing his makeup further. Taehyung rolls his eyes in turn as he brushes Jimin’s shoulder with his own, trying to knock out the real reason.

The answer came in a sigh of words.

"I forgot how good it felt to feel your lips. I only dreamt of it while you were... And when it was real, I thought… it had to be a dream." Jimin admits as he shifts closer to Taehyung on the bed. He dreamed of Taehyung? Of kissing Taehyung? And Taehyung didn’t need to ask why Jimin chose to not finish that one sentence, because he knew it hurt to say ‘gone’.

Taehyung smiles softly from hearing the truth, but he looks down to his own lap when he notices Jimin lifting his head back up to him. Taehyung doesn’t know what to think about what just happened. Did he forgive Jimin? How were things going to work with this long-distance relationship now that Taehyung wasn’t in Seoul with Jimin? Most importantly, did Taehyung trust Jimin?

"Let's take things slow... I want to trust you, but you have to earn it," he says gravely, “after how you acted earlier and with our past, I just want to be sure.” 

Jimin was nodding slowly in agreement, "yeah, slow is good, whatever you need. And, I will do everything right this time. I won’t give you doubt, or flake out on our time together." Jimin promises while Taehyung hesitantly slips his hand into Jimin's, interlacing their fingers tightly.

They stayed like this for some time, silently processing this entire turn of events. Christmas really did bring miracles. Taehyung eventually let his head rest on Jimin's shoulder and sighed,

"What the hell are we going to tell our parents?"

"I think they already know."

“Fuck,” 

-------

It’s a beautiful white Christmas. Snowflakes fall slowly in little cotton-like flurries sticking to the ground and the windows sills. And it is a rare occurrence for the snow to actually stick in Busan. Taehyung thinks it was like a serene dreamscape he’d like to picture on canvas someday. But for now, he finds the use of his sketchbook that he carries everywhere with him—no matter how much it weighs down his bag if he didn’t use it.

Taehyung is sipping on hot chocolate in the living room—coffee is much too bitter for his liking—while he sketches out the scenery visible from the window. A fuzzy robe hugs him warmly, but not as warm as Jimin had kept him last night. It was the consequence of taking over Jimin’s room since there wasn’t any other room for Jimin to sleep in. The only other substantial cushion for sleep was the couch. Jimin had offered to sleep on the couch though, being courteous to give Taehyung his space. But the latter refused Jimin to not have a good night’s sleep on his behalf—as well as wonder what it would be like to wake up next to Jimin once again. And it had been better than he remembered. Somehow while sleeping Taehyung had been wrapped in Jimin’s arms, his cheek warm on Jimin’s chest. Waking up to that, and Jimin’s precious swollen face from sleep, was everything he forgot he needed. 

Taehyung gets exactly what he wants for Christmas, even if he refuses to acknowledge it. His heart knew what he wanted. And that had always been Jimin. 

Everyone is awake now, slowly gathering around the Christmas tree casually with mugs warming their cold palms. Though, Jimin had yet to appear, making Taehyung a little on edge with the prying eyes of the parents. They hadn’t gone back downstairs for dinner after their embarrassing scene under the mistletoe, mostly in cowardice to the expected bombardment of questions they didn’t want to face. 

Though it was unsettlingly calm, Taehyung thought they were waiting for Jimin to make his way downstairs so it wouldn’t seem like an interrogation to only him. But, when Jimin’s softer footsteps padded down the stairs, thinking back to the loud clack that had rung through Taehyung’s skull by the way of three-inch heels, their parents had not shifted to descend upon them. Maybe they already knew and were just playing along with their act, pushing them till they broke their act and talked it out. Parents were deceiving in those kinds of ways. 

“‘Morning” Jimin hums, and his voice isn’t thick with sleep as Taehyung expects. Instead, he gaps at the silver minx who just stole his heart. Jimin may still be in leopard-print pajamas but the wide cherry-red ribbon wrapping under his chin to tie a big floppy bow on top of his head, was a sight that stunned Taehyung. He couldn’t be—

“Taehyung,” he announces, pausing to add drama, making Taehyung put his pencil down and close his book slowly. “I’m your present!”

A beat of silence passes as a slow smile spreads across Taehyung’s face. He giggles, and it's the kind that spills from his lips with effervescence, that can’t be controlled or held back. Taehyung rises from his seat like a shot into the air, knocking his sketchbook to the floor, and opens his arms wide, awaiting his present. And Jimin rushes with a purpose into Taehyung’s welcoming arms, latching himself tightly around the younger’s tall slender frame. Jimin squeezed Taehyung tight, lifting him off his feet till it was only his toes that grazed the carpet. The radiant smile from Jimin could have melted the snowy grass outside in an instant. Taehyung’s rich giggle returns through closed teeth and a boxy smile as he floats in Jimin’s arms away from the floor. And Jimin thinks that wonderful sound Taehyung makes is the music he is going to remember when he’s old and grey.

When Taehyung’s feet touch the floor, he feels like he has landed back on earth after having a tour of the Milky Way. Content and at peace, connected to the people around him like never before.

“I love my present, Jiminie.” Taehyung says as he visibly melts in Jimin’s arms, burying his face in the crook of Jimin’s neck.

“I love you,” Jimin replies with a galaxy in his eyes.

The end.