Work Text:
I’ll find you somewhere
Show you how much I care
Know that there is no
Escape from my snow brigade
***
Jimin’s eyes were as cold as the winter around them.
He was regretting all of his choices he had made in the last six years. The choice of university. Becoming friends with his freshman roommate. Becoming friends with that boy sitting next to him in Introduction to Film .
Falling in love with that same boy.
Getting your heart broken.
Promising to join his university friends in the middle of tundra and snow to “a nice, relaxing winter retreat, it will do you good, Mimi!” as Hoseok had put it.
They had graduated over a year ago.
Jimin had so many more important things in his life. Like his job as an art curator. His ill mother. His colleagues. Social events.
These people did not matter that much as his life now did.
But the eyes were still the same.
Dark, chocolate brown ones that were so warm that they should’ve brought spring.
The eyes that didn’t turn to look at Jimin, not once.
“Come on, are you gonna make me carry all your bags?” Hoseok huffed, shoving Jimin’s bag into his arms. Jimin rolled his eyes.
“You should, since it’s you who made me come here,” Jimin muttered.
“It’ll be good for you,” Hoseok said. “You’ll see.”
Jimin doubted it. But he didn’t reply.
***
Even with all of his regrets, he didn’t regret anything as much as letting Jungkook choose the rooms they were going to sleep in through a ladder game.
Hoseok, Seokjin and Yoongi ended up in the room of three beds. Namjoon and Jungkook luckily - or through cheating - shared a room, which was unlucky for all of the others, since the couple would probably end up keeping them awake by making noise .
It would’ve been okay, or at least bearable, if… If.
If Jimin’s roommate wasn’t the warm-eyed man he had shared a room with through the first, tumultuous year of university.
“Which side of the bed do you want?” Taehyung asked without looking at Jimin.
“I don’t care,” Jimin replied quietly, focusing on unpacking the clothes that were in most danger of creasing.
Jimin could hear Taehyung sigh quietly.
“I haven’t had a chance to ask,” Taehyung then said. “Are you enjoying your job? As a curator?”
“Well, I imagine I don’t enjoy buying and selling art as much as you enjoy making it,” Jimin said, pressing his lips into a tight line. Finally he turned to face Taehyung.
The taller man looked somber, his dark curly hair a mess because he’d been wearing a beanie, a tiny speck of paint on the hem of his shirt. Like the artist he was. Jimin hated that.
“I guess so,” Taehyung replied, his voice now toneless. “I’m gonna go see if Yoongi needs help cooking.”
It was bullshit. Taehyung was useless in the kitchen. Or he used to be. Jimin remembered how he always managed to burn eggs when he tried to make them breakfast in their dorm’s communal kitchen.
At the time it was funny.
Jimin scoffed at himself. He shoved the door of the closet shut almost violently, before slouching to sit down on the bed.
The sunset was showing its beauty in oranges and pinks, and the snow glimmered like magic, inviting.
But it was lying.
It was cold and wet, like Jimin’s heart.
***
It was warm.
Jimin loved the warmth of another human body more than the average person, and he always used the chance to snuggle close to his boyfriend or friends if he got the chance.
“Comfy?”
The voice was amused.
Jimin scrunched his nose.
“No, I’m extremely uncomfortable. You need to hold me closer.”
A laugh.
“Okay.”
Jungkook wrapped his arms tighter around Jimin, pressing a kiss into his boyfriend’s hair.
“Better?”
“Better,” Jimin hummed, digging his nose into Jungkook’s chest.
***
Jimin was glad his friends were so talkative. That meant he could sink into the background to have a conversation with his wine glass.
He did try. He gave out little chuckles, hums and smiles when needed. Perhaps numb ones.
But he still cared deeply for his friends.
Hoseok, who had been there through everything, experienced his misery, wiped his tears and kept close touch after graduating. Seokjin, who he’d met through Hoseok, who was now a famous model but the most humble person on the planet. Yoongi, who in his quietness had given him the best support and advice he could’ve gotten. Namjoon, whose wisdom was incomparable, and who knew how to read situations better than anyone.
Jungkook, whom he’d loved. Who was sweet, caring, and didn’t have a bad bone in his body.
Jimin wasn’t angry at him. Not anymore.
And Taehyung.
His first proper friend.
His best friend.
Who, on freshman moving day, had strutted into their shared dorm room and hugged Jimin. Smiled with all his teeth on show, saying that he was excited to get to know Jimin.
Jimin had smiled back.
He wasn’t smiling anymore.
Taehyung was talking about his art, telling about how he was using mixed media in his newest series of works, and how it had brought him entirely new epiphanies.
Taehyung had always been passionate about his art, a bit too much for his own good.
Jimin remembered sometimes going to the art rooms of the university at two am to remind Taehyung to sleep and holding him when he was struggling with his work.
Jimin knew he’d been similar, Taehyung and Jungkook sometimes together forcing him home from the dance studio when he’d gotten stuck with a routine he wanted to perfect.
Taehyung and Jungkook.
Jimin glanced at Jungkook, who was giggling on something Seokjin had just said, leaning against his boyfriend’s shoulder. There were newly shining bands on Jungkook’s and Namjoon’s ring fingers - they’d just gotten engaged a few months ago.
They looked happy and in love.
Jimin was happy for them. He really was.
He was happy that people were moving forward with their lives, finding purpose, passions, patience.
They were all in different places professionally and personally, but everyone seemed more or less content.
Hoseok was talking about a man he’d had a few dates with and Seokjin joked something about how they’d used to date.
Dating was a very loose definition of what they had done.
Hoseok, Seokjin and Yoongi had all had something with each other during university, so much that Taehyung and Jimin had jokingly suggested for them three to get together. To Jimin’s knowledge it hadn’t happened, but based on the flirting the spark was still there.
Or the alcohol.
However it was, once the clock struck midnight they were in the living room of the cottage with some empty soju bottles, seemingly playing cards, but actually reminiscing the past.
Jimin hated that.
He did not want to wallow in the past.
The university years that he’d tried to erase from his memory, even if many of those times had been happy, too.
But the other times covered the happy ones with their grayness.
With their coldness.
With…
“I’m gonna go to bed,” Jimin said, getting up. “I’m exhausted.”
Hoseok looked like he wanted to argue, but Yoongi poked him with his elbow.
“Okay. Good night!” Namjoon said with a warm smile. The others hollered their nighty-nights too, but Jimin didn’t hear Taehyung’s voice.
He wasn’t surprised.
He shut the door behind him, taking a shaky breath. The room was chilly, the dark, cloudy sky covering the moon so there was no light in the room. Jimin quickly undressed and brushed his teeth in the en-suite before crawling under the covers.
He could hear the others’ voices. Laughs.
Jimin pulled the duvet over his ears.
He knew he shouldn’t run away.
He always did.
He wouldn’t feel this cold if he knew how to handle his feelings, handle everything.
Jimin was glad he’d fallen asleep before Taehyung came to bed.
***
But he did wake up before Taehyung did.
Taehyung’s breathing was like Jimin was hearing a song he hadn’t heard in years. A deja vu of something long forgotten.
Jimin didn’t dare to turn.
But he glimpsed at his side.
He saw the fluff of Taehyung’s hair. It was even more of a mess than the day before.
Taehyung’s hair used to be shorter. He’d also once colored it blue during university.
“I feel like I look so boring,” Taehyung whined, stretching his hands up so that his shirt revealed a sliver of his stomach. “Let’s color my hair.”
“Which color would you like?” Jimin asked, his own hair bubblegum pink.
“Something vibrant so that people will notice me.”
Everyone noticed Taehyung. He was gorgeous and tall, carried himself with confidence but he’d never been conceited.
“Blue?” Jimin suggested with a grin.
“That sounds perfect. We’ll look really cute together.”
Jimin felt warm. His heart did a little somersault.
“Let’s suggest Kookie a new hair color too,” Jimin chuckled. “We’d be quite a trio.”
“Yes! Something pink like you? A perfect matching couple.”
Jimin snorted.
“Sounds good.”
Jungkook hadn’t been very excited about the hair dyeing, but he’d done it. Both Taehyung and Jungkook had been stunning in their vibrant blue and cherry pink hairs, and Jimin had felt like everyone was looking at them when they were walking through campus.
It had been fun.
But then.
Jimin sat up, and after a quick glance at Taehyung he got up to his feet. Taehyung kept breathing quietly, obviously still sound asleep.
Jimin got ready quietly, pulling on warm clothes before exiting the room.
Namjoon was already awake, and he was making coffee.
“Morning,” he said, smiling in his gentle way, the way that made Jimin forget his troubles and worries for that moment when he looked at Namjoon.
“Morning. Did you stay up late?” Jimin asked, leaning against the kitchen counter to wait for the coffee.
“Koo and I went to bed a bit after you. I’m not sure how long the others stayed up. But you know them. The night owls.”
Night owls.
Jimin was like that.
The night time was when he lived. When he danced, his thoughts sang and his mind was at peace.
He hadn’t had much time for that.
“Yeah,” Jimin hummed. He grabbed a cup of coffee, disappearing to the porch just when he saw Jungkook appearing from upstairs.
Jimin wrapped himself in a blanket he’d stolen from the sofa and sat on the porch steps.
The sunrise was as pretty as the sunset, as unique. The colors were different every time. The sun’s possibilities were infinite, with colors that existed and didn’t, with light and darkness, warmth and the prickling cold that was pinching Jimin’s skin.
The door creaked, and Jimin knew who it was even before he spoke.
“Hey,” Jungkook said quietly. He sat down next to Jimin, also holding a steaming coffee cup. He was wearing a thick winter jacket, almost drowning in it. He’d let his hair grow, and he’d tied the upper half in a little bun.
“Hey,” Jimin replied, keeping his eyes on the horizon.
The neighboring cottages were not far at all, but there were a few snowy hills separating them, hiding them from sight.
It felt like they were alone in the desert of endless winter.
“Jiminie,” Jungkook breathed. Jimin closed his eyes for a moment.
“Jiminie.”
“I’m… I’m really sorry, Jiminie.”
Jimin kept his eyes closed for a second more before opening them.
“You don’t have to apologize, Kookie. We’ve already talked about this.”
“I know,” Jungkook sighed. “But it feels like… Have you spoken with Taehyung?”
Jimin pressed his lips into a tight line. He held his breath, stared at the sun until it hurt a little.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
The silence was so telling it annoyed Jimin.
“There isn’t?”
“No. There’s no need. What happened is in the past.”
Jungkook hummed. He took a sip of his coffee.
“The sunrise is pretty.”
“It is,” Jimin breathed.
“Remember how we used to watch the sunrise before we had even gone to bed?” Jungkook chuckled quietly.
“I do.”
They had done that. Him, Jungkook and Taehyung.
“I remember the last time we did that,” Jimin said suddenly, before the tired filter on his brain had time to work.
Jungkook was quiet for a moment, before he sighed.
“I do, too.”
In the past. It was in the past. Then why did Jimin’s throat feel like it was constricting?
“Please speak to Taehyung,” Jungkook whispered. “You owe it to yourself. And he can… he can explain things. We never meant for you to get hurt.”
Right.
Breaking up with Jungkook had been painful - Jimin had been crying, but they had both known it was the right choice.
They just weren’t meant for each other.
Taehyung had been there for him, taking care of him. And then he’d broken up with the guy he’d been dating. He seemed more okay than Jimin.
Or at least Jimin hadn’t seen if he’d been broken.
He hadn’t been there to pick up the pieces.
But someone else had.
“Jiminie.”
Jimin stared back at Jungkook and Taehyung, who were standing at the threshold of his room.
And Jimin knew before they said anything.
He knew.
He knew how their fingers searched for each other, how their hearts beat unanimously.
“I hope this won’t change anything between us,” Taehyung whispered.
“We care about you more than anything,” Jungkook breathed.
Jimin forced a smile.
The same one he smiled to this day.
“I know. I’m happy for you.”
***
Taehyung and Jungkook’s relationship never lasted long. They had just been helping each other through a tough time.
Being each other’s bandaids, so to say.
Or at least that was what they’d tried to explain to Jimin.
It didn’t matter, though. Nothing had ever been the same, since.
Jimin blamed himself - if he hadn’t broken up with Jungkook, would he have lost his best friend, too? It was not like Jimin didn’t enjoy being with Jungkook. There just wasn’t that… spark. Passion.
Breath catching in your throat.
The eyes sinking you.
Not only warmth, but also heat .
“Do I just want too much from a relationship?” Jimin sighed, downing the rest of his beer. He was sprawled onto Hoseok’s couch, leaning against Yoongi’s shoulder.
“I mean, I was happy with Jungkook.”
“You broke up with him for a reason. And he agreed. There’s no use in wallowing in that,” Hoseok said.
“Yeah, you shouldn’t settle for the easier solution when it comes to love,” Yoongi said.
“Oh the poet you become when you’re drunk,” Jimin giggled.
“Yoongi is right!” Hoseok declared, getting up from the floor to his wobbly feet, and then slouching down on the couch clearly less gracefully than he’d intended.
“How are you always right?” Hoseok mumbled, wrapping his arms around Yoongi, while he dug his face into the crook of Yoongi’s neck.
“Okay, that’s my cue to leave,” Jimin groaned, pulling away.
“You know you don’t have to,” Hoseok noted, grinning at Jimin.
“Invite Seokjin to your group sex, I need to get home.”
“Text me when you get home!” Hoseok hollered after him.
“Always will,” Jimin replied.
At least he had other friends he could trust and talk to, since he couldn’t really talk to Taehyung anymore.
Not about this.
Or anything else either.
Something had broken between them for good.
After breakfast Jimin decided to take a walk outside.
The chill had set itself in Jimin’s bones.
There was a little frozen lake close to the cottage.
The ice glistened, and different shapes painted the surface like flowers.
The quiet gave too much space for Jimin’s thoughts.
He felt stuck. Stuck inside himself, in his head and his skin, moving slowly as the world passed him.
He hated that he couldn’t control his feelings with logic. Tell his mind to stop hanging on the past, in things he could not change anymore.
In normal life it was easier to pass through days, to distract himself with work.
But here.
Jimin kicked a rock from the bank to the thin ice closest to the shore.
The flowers cracked, water bubbling through and soon drowning the rock.
***
The most dangerous time of day was when the sun went down.
The darkness brought forth the truth in people.
The hidden, painful truth.
“You slept with Namjoon?!”
Hoseok’s voice was scandalized and he was grabbing his chest with the dramatics that only he did well.
Jungkook, Yoongi and Taehyung couldn’t stop laughing, while Seokjin looked perfectly calm and smiled at Hoseok, while Namjoon was hiding his blushing face behind his hands.
“Why didn’t I know this before?” Hoseok gasped.
“You can’t know all the things in the world, babe,” Seokjin said.
“But this is important! I thought Joonie was our little responsible pure baby who always did his assignments on time and never partied too much! Now my image of him has completely crumbled!”
“Seokjin, you dirtied Namjoon,” Jungkook giggled, patting on his friend’s thigh.
“You knew too?!” Hoseok asked.
“Of course I knew,” Jungkook chuckled.
“Can we change the subject now,” Namjoon mumbled into his own hands. Jimin was chuckling, too. He wasn’t surprised in the least - they had all done wild things during university years, and sleeping with each other was one of the least shocking things.
“What other things are you hiding from me? You got him pregnant? You’re actually secretly married?”
“Are you saying there’s nothing you haven’t told us?” Seokjin pointed out, arching his brow. “Nothing you did in uni none of us know?”
“I’m an open book, you know that,” Hoseok said, taking a sip from his forgotten glass.
“There is… that one thing,” Jungkook said slightly hesitantly, glancing at Hoseok, and then Taehyung.
“Oh,” Taehyung mumbled, hiding behind his glass of wine.
“What thing?” Seokjin asked and Yoongi perked up, too. Jimin furrowed his brows, as Hoseok slouched down.
He wasn’t one to not talk about his escapades.
“Umm,” Hoseok muttered, his gaze sweeping over Jimin.
“What is it?” Jimin asked, confused.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” Hoseok sighed. “We just… once, in senior year, Tae and I… we slept together.”
Jimin froze.
It was as if he’d fallen into the icy waters of the lake.
“When did that happen?” Seokjin asked.
“It was about a month after we broke up with Koo,” Taehyung said, shrugging. Hoseok didn’t say anything more, he just looked at Jimin again apologetically, as Jimin was sinking.
It really wasn’t that big of a deal.
It wasn’t.
“Hobi,” Jimin whispered. He was laying on Hoseok’s bed with his friend, studying for midterms.
“Mhm?”
“I… I think I figured something out. Like, why Kookie and Tae getting together was so hard for me.”
Hoseok’s eyes flicked up from his textbook.
“Oh?”
“I mean, I thought it was because Jungkook’s my ex and Tae is my best friend, but…”
“Spit it out, you’re killing me,” Hoseok prompted. Jimin bit his lip.
“I think… I had a crush on Taehyung. Or, have. I don’t know.”
“Took you a while to figure that out,” Hoseok said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Darling, I’ve known all this time. Your dumb ass used to swoon over Taehyung for the entirety of freshman year. I was really surprised when you got together with Jungkook.”
Jimin narrowed his eyes.
“What do you mean you’ve known?”
Hoseok sighed, his grin turning into a soft smile.
“You became such close friends so fast and you couldn’t stop talking about him. I thought you’d gotten over it when you started dating JK but when you broke up and… the rest happened, I realized you hadn’t.”
“And you didn’t think to say anything to me? You just followed this trainwreck, laughing on the sidelines?” Jimin hissed.
“Of course not, Mimi. I just thought you’d have to figure it out on your own. Figure out what you want and who you want to be with. I really didn’t expect for it to get to this, though.”
Yeah. Jimin hadn’t expected that either. He hadn’t expected to feel so hurt and betrayed, when his best friend and ex-boyfriend had found happiness together.
Of course, Jimin didn’t know that right at the moment he was having this conversation with Hoseok, Jungkook and Taehyung had just broken up.
Jimin needed to get away.
“I think I’ve drunk too much,” he mumbled, getting up.
“Are you alright?” Yoongi asked, glimpsing at Jimin’s glass, which was literally his first.
“I’m fine, I’m just gonna go lay down,” Jimin said and turned towards his - and Taehyung’s - room.
Great, a second night in a row he was making a dramatic exit.
He wanted to make a dramatic exit out of his body, out of the situation.
He tried to fight his thoughts - he didn’t have any reason, any right to be angry or upset. It wasn’t like anyone had been cheated on. Everyone was free to do exactly as they desired.
It was his own fault that he hadn’t acted on his feelings before it was too late. And each moment it got even later.
Jimin sat down at the edge of the bed, trying to take the deepest breath.
Trying to exhale out his feelings. All of them.
He would rather be cold than hurt.
There was a knock on the door, and then it cracked a little.
Jimin had expected to see Hoseok, but instead he saw…
Taehyung.
“Can I come in?”
“It’s your room, too,” Jimin grumbled, getting up to seemingly dig something out from the closet.
“Jimin. Please, just. Look at me.”
Jimin bit the inside of his cheek, turning to face Taehyung.
“Everyone is really worried about you.”
“There’s no reason to be,” Jimin said, toneless. Taehyung sighed.
“So you’re not upset at all? About anything? Min, you’ve barely looked at me in the past two days.”
“You’re actually asking me why I might be upset with you?” Jimin asked, pursing his lips. Taehyung looked down, fumbling the hem of his shirt.
“I just… I thought that… Maybe it was stupid and unfair of me, but I thought that maybe time would make things easier. Make you feel better. Less hurt.”
“It has. I’m fine, it’s all fine, I mean it was forever ago. And you apologized. It was just coming here, seeing everyone… but I’ll get over it. I have no reason to be upset,” Jimin said, looking somewhere past Taehyung.
“Jimin, please. You have every right to be upset. And even if you say it was forever ago, we literally graduated last year. And even if it was ten years, you’d still have a right to be upset. I just wish there was something I could do.”
“There’s nothing,” Jimin muttered. “You can’t do anything.”
“Hobi didn’t seem to think so,” Taehyung noted. “He practically pushed me inside the room even if I told him you wouldn’t want to speak with me.”
“And he’d be correct.”
Taehyung sighed again, exasperated.
“Seriously, do you want to spend the entire week like this, being angry? I know it was shitty of me to get together with your ex, I know that , but my dumb brain thought it would be fine for some reason since it was you who broke up with Koo. But of course you still had feelings and I shouldn’t have…”
“You think that’s the reason I’m mad?” Jimin asked, his gaze spitting hell. “That I still had feelings for Jungkook?”
“Wasn’t it?” Taehyung asked, confused.
“God,” Jimin sighed. “I really don’t want to talk about this.”
“Maybe you should, Jimin. Do you think bottling it up will help? Has it helped?”
“I don’t need advice from you,” Jimin snarled.
“Well, too bad, since you’re stuck with it, now,” Taehyung scoffed, taking a step closer. “Believe it or not, I care about you, and I can’t keep watching you being so hurt.”
“I’m so sorry you have to watch me being broken, it must be such an inconvenience,” Jimin huffed, also stepping closer.
“Stop twisting my words. I’m really sorry if you hate me and I wish it wasn’t like that, but if I’m the cause of your pain, I should have to carry some of the burden.”
Another step.
“How noble .”
There was barely half-a-meter between them anymore.
“Quit being childish, Park Jimin, I know you’re smarter than that.”
“Did it maybe enter your mind that I don’t want to tell you? Because it’s as much my own fault as it is yours? And that it’ll just hurt more, because it’ll hurt you too?”
“Try me,” Taehyung said tightly. “Make me hurt.”
The spiral of Jimin’s thoughts stunted.
What he saw in front of him was Taehyung from freshman year, with a bright smile and infectious laugh. He saw Taehyung with his blue hair and sparkly eyes. He saw Taehyung always being there for him, encouraging him to do what he wanted to do, even if it wasn’t easy. He saw Taehyung’s sad gaze when Jimin got tired of smiling. He saw Taehyung apologizing, being broken too.
He saw Taehyung.
Without a thought Jimin shoved Taehyung against the wall, and had a fraction of time to see his surprised expression before he crashed his lips on Taehyung’s.
His feelings burst out of him, smashing the ice and drowning him. He couldn’t breathe underwater.
Especially when he realized Taehyung was drowning with him. That his hands had found Jimin’s waist and his lips devoured Jimin’s like he was tasting a rare delicacy on his last moment on earth.
That was not right.
Taehyung couldn’t.
Jimin pushed closer, their tongues dancing, their bodies in sync, like it was supposed to be like that .
Taehyung’s hands were on Jimin’s back, he could feel the heat of his fingers, how they fit on his waist, his skin, his cells, him, him, him…
Jimin didn’t want to let go.
But it was wrong.
It wasn’t…
Jimin pulled away with a gasp, panting, as if Taehyung had been providing all his oxygen.
“Jimin…” Taehyung whispered, but Jimin didn’t stay to listen.
Instead, he ran.
Out of the door. Past the people in the living room. Through the front door. He could hear his name being called.
He didn’t care.
It was cold . Everything was cold. The snow, his body, his heart .
Taehyung.
Jimin screamed. The void listened to him, echoing his thoughts. It didn’t help, just turned his emotions into an endless riptide.
He sank onto his knees, inhaling the freezing air. The snowfall was increasing, the flakes whipping onto Jimin’s face, burning.
“Jimin! Come inside!”
It was Hoseok’s voice.
Jimin inhaled a choked breath, his legs feeling numb. He couldn’t see in the dark, maybe because of the flurries of snow. Maybe because of his stinging, hot eyes.
“Jimin, honey.”
Hoseok crouched down to Jimin, shivering in the cold.
“Come inside, please. The snowfall is turning into a blizzard.”
Jimin wished the blizzard would take him away.
He was pathetic.
“I’m going home tomorrow,” Jimin whispered, his voice gone. “First thing.”
Hoseok sighed.
“Okay. However you want.”
Hoseok helped Jimin up from the snow, but Jimin pulled away from his touch once he was on his feet. They walked back to the house. Jungkook and Namjoon were on the porch, looking concerned.
Jimin didn’t say anything to them. He brushed past them, past Yoongi who was standing at the doorway.
“Taehyung is upstairs in our room with Jin,” Yoongi said quietly. Jimin nodded, not stopping until he was in his and Taehyung’s room, the door firmly closed behind him.
He was so stupid. So dumb and pathetic .
Jimin sat down at the edge of the bed, wiping his tears angrily.
His hair and clothes were wet and cold, and his lungs felt heavy.
Jimin touched his lips with his fingertips. It was as if he could still feel it. The touch. Taehyung.
Instead he bit onto his bottom lip, gnawing so hard he could only feel the pain of raw skin. He wanted to rip his hair off and crawl out of himself.
There was a knock at the door. Jimin ignored it.
There was no way he could explain anything. He was a mess, scattered and broken beyond repair. His mind was cracked, unable to let go of things already gone.
The door opened and Hoseok slipped in.
“What happened?” Hoseok asked softly. He didn’t sit down and left some space between them, which Jimin was thankful for.
“I’m a fucked up mess, that’s what happened,” Jimin mumbled.
“You’re not,” Hoseok said.
“I kissed him, Hoseok,” Jimin scoffed. “I kissed Taehyung. And then I ran away. I just keep fucking making mistakes, making everything harder. I shouldn’t have come here.”
“Of course you came.”
“Why? After… after everything happened, I was never a part of this group anymore. Especially not after we graduated. I don’t belong.”
“Don’t talk bullshit, Jimin. You belong. You’re not getting rid of us that easily. Even if you have problems with some people, that doesn’t mean you’re not friends with them anymore.”
“I’m in love with my previous best friend! And I can’t seem to fucking get over it, whatever I do! And I can’t get over that my best friend started dating my ex and it’s pathetic and petty and we’re all fucking adults, I should be able to…”
“Jimin,” Hoseok said, kneeling in front of him. “Listen. Everything you just said is completely valid.”
“Is it? Is it fucking valid that you fucked my best friend after I told you I have a crush on him?”
Hoseok sighed.
“You can continue lashing out on all of us, we’re not gonna ditch you even if you think you deserve it. I’m really sorry I did that, it was a genuinely shitty thing to do, and I regret it so much. But it happened and I can’t take it back, and I can only try to make amends to you.”
“Why would you want to?” Jimin huffed, letting the tears finally stream. “I’m not worth it.”
Hoseok touched Jimin’s hand gently.
“But you are.”
Jimin sniffled, his thoughts making spirals in his head.
“And that’s something you should realize. Because you’re so worth it. And if you knew how worth it you are, you’d understand things better,” Hoseok said.
Jimin felt like he was choking on his own breath.
He hated being like this.
So angry .
Angry at himself. Angry at the world. But mostly himself.
“H-Hobi,” Jimin sniffled. Hoseok smiled softly, pulling him in for a hug when Jimin leaned against him.
“I j-just… I don’t know h-how to be. I c-can only blame myself for this situation and I…”
Jimin pulled away to wipe his eyes into his sleeve that was still cold and damp.
“H-he… he kissed me back, Hobi. I just… I’ve b-been an asshole and he just…”
Hoseok swept Jimin’s hair away from his eyes.
“Sometimes you’re so blind, Park Jimin,” Hoseok said. He inhaled to speak more, but suddenly there was a knock on the door.
“Y-yeah?” Jimin asked.
“I’m sorry to bother,” Namjoon said. “But the maintenance people of the cottages just called me and warned us that we might lose power soon. The storm has picked up a lot and they said that we should make sure all the windows and doors are properly closed. Yoongi and Jungkook have just started lighting up the fireplace.”
“We should get you into warm clothes, Mimi,” Hoseok said. Jimin nodded, sniffling. Namjoon gave him a gentle smile before closing the door again.
In the middle of changing, the lights indeed flickered a few times, before turning off completely. Blindly Jimin dug himself a warm sweater, before they exited the room with Hoseok with the flashlights of their phones as help.
The others had all gathered into the living room. Yoongi and Jungkook had gotten the fire going, and the flames emanated soft light into the room.
“They recommended that we all sleep in the same room to preserve warmth. Apparently we should get the power back sometime during the night, hopefully,” Namjoon said.
Jimin kept his head down, but he couldn’t not glance at Taehyung.
Taehyung didn’t look at him. He was sitting next to Seokjin, cuddled up under a blanket, his hair an adorable mess.
Hoseok pulled Jimin to sit close next to him. Jimin smiled at him gratefully, snuggling up to his side.
They all startled when the wind suddenly rattled the windows, whistling in the chimney.
“I wonder if this happens often,” Yoongi hummed. “Since they knew to warn us.”
“Probably,” Namjoon said. “Might be that they switch off the power as a precaution, too.”
“We can drag some mattresses from the bedrooms,” Jungkook said. “And a few of us can fit on the sofas. I think it’s a good idea to all sleep here by the fire.”
“You better behave,” Seokjin noted, looking at Jungkook and Namjoon. “We don’t want to hear anything indecent.”
“We don’t fuck in every possible turn,” Jungkook huffed, throwing a pillow at Seokjin.
“I would,” Hoseok grinned.
“No one is surprised,” Yoongi snorted.
***
Jimin had ended up on the floor next to Hoseok. Namjoon and Jungkook had taken one of the couches, and were completely tangled into each other, while Seokjin had fallen asleep on the other sofa. Yoongi was on Hoseok’s other side, and Taehyung next to Yoongi.
The fire had slowly died into cinder.
Jimin couldn’t sleep.
He was under two blankets, but he was shivering.
Hoseok had been warming him at first, but at some point he’d rolled over in his sleep and cuddled up into Yoongi’s body.
They were cute.
Jimin could hear a rustle of fabric. Someone else was awake, too.
Jimin turned to his side, his back on his friends. He listened to the quiet. To the breaths. To the wind whistling outside, the heavy, icy snowfall whipping against the windows.
Jimin could recognize Taehyung’s breathing. It was uneven. Not slow and steady. He’d gotten used to it, listening to it into the hours of the night when he couldn’t sleep in their dorm room. Occasionally his breaths were mixed with Jungkook’s, who sometimes slept in Jimin’s bed, and at times Taehyung’s. He used to spend the night often. When Jimin got together with him, he did that even more often, and Jimin remembered the three of them being closer than ever.
He didn’t want to remember.
He sat up quietly, getting to his feet. He left his blanket and pillows, tiptoeing past the sleeping forms to the back of the cottage. There was a covered deck with walls of glass. The wooden flooring felt tingly and freezing under Jimin’s bare feet. The ice had climbed up the windows, spreading its flowers around, only the snow storm misting the darkness.
There was some snow that had intruded through the gaps in the glass, powdering the floor. Jimin stepped closer, crouching. He touched the snow with the tip of his finger, the cold burning his skin.
He could feel the burn inside his chest, pressing on his lungs.
“Jimin?”
Jimin startled a little, even if he’d expected it.
He straightened up, but didn’t turn around.
“What are you doing?”
Taehyung’s voice was raspy with tiredness, and it warmed Jimin. Just like it always had.
From day one.
From when Taehyung had hugged him the first time, smiling with all his teeth on show, announcing that they were going to have the best freshman year ever.
From when he’d gently caressed Jimin’s back when he’d drank a little too much at a student party, staying the entire night with him in their dorm’s communal bathroom.
From when they’d met Jungkook and his laugh that made his eyes crinkle. From Namjoon’s dimples, from when they’d found Seokjin wandering outside their dorm trying to find ‘a boy that looked like a cat’. From said cat-like boy snorting at what Seokjin had said, and Hoseok bursting into such a laughter that they felt the warmth of the sun in their hearts.
“I just…” Jimin breathed. He shivered, the cold reaching somewhere deep.
“It’s like you’re choosing to be cold,” Taehyung said. “Like you want to be frozen.”
Jimin closed his eyes, breathing but not feeling it.
There was a creak in the floorboards as Taehyung stepped closer.
“Do you want to be cold?”
Jimin let out a choked sound.
He’d gotten used to being cold. His insides numb and unfeeling.
He didn’t used to be like that.
He was warm, bright and gentle.
The icy flowers on the windows felt like home, and they shouldn’t have.
“N-no,” Jimin whispered.
There were a fews more steps, and then Jimin could feel something warm on his shoulders. It was a blanket, followed by Taehyung’s arms.
Taehyung.
Jimin didn’t want to think.
Instead he pressed closer to Taehyung, involuntarily letting out a quiet gasp.
Taehyung was so warm .
He was warm in a way that seeped into Jimin’s bones, filled him to the brim, bursting out of him, scattering the pieces of his heart around and collecting them again to put them back together, finding the missing fragments to fill the hollowness within him and reminding him he could breathe. That he was alive.
That he was alive .
“You’re really shivering,” Taehyung whispered, his arms tightening around Jimin. “Why are you always cold?”
“Why are you always cold?” Taehyung teased, screeching, when Jimin shoved his freezing cold feet between Taehyung’s legs.
“You’re going to hell for that!” Taehyung whined. “But I bet even that place wouldn’t warm you up, you weirdo.”
“It’s literally sub-zero,” Jimin mumbled. Taehyung chuckled lowly.
“Yeah.”
It was.
He was.
Jimin knew he was.
After everything, he’d turned down the temperature, not letting the warmth in. He’d felt like he deserved to be cold.
“Did you… did you always?” Taehyung asked quietly. Jimin closed his eyes. His instincts told him to pull away. To run. But he didn’t trust them. Not anymore.
“I’m not sure,” Jimin whispered. “I really did love Kookie. He was… he was good for me. But it… You…”
Jimin couldn’t continue. It was too real. Too cold.
The wind was burning in his ears.
“I did,” Taehyung murmured. “I did, Jiminie.”
Jimin’s heart stopped. Or did it start? Did it receive the electric impulse it had needed all along? To beat? To be warm ?
“Tae…” Jimin whispered, finally turning to look.
Taehyung.
His messy, curly hair. His sad, uncertain eyes, that were not looking back at Jimin. His secure arms holding Jimin, pushing the warmth into Jimin’s skin of marble, of his heart that was protected by stone.
For his heart was something that only a certain thing could revive.
“I’m sorry I… I’m sorry I ran away like that,” Jimin murmured.
“I get it,” Taehyung hummed. “I understand.”
“But it was not okay. It wasn’t…”
Jimin turned more, pulling away from Taehyung’s embrace so the other had to look at him.
“I don’t know how to handle all of this,” Jimin said truthfully. “I have no idea.”
A hint of a smile started quivering on Taehyung’s lips.
“You were never good at feelings, Mimi.”
For a fraction Jimin just stared at Taehyung. Then a burst ran through him, and he let out a giggle.
“Are you kidding me right now, Kim Taehyung? I’m trying to talk about my feelings here.”
“I’m very much serious. Remember when you wanted to ask Koo out but you were just rolling around in your insecurities? How you just blurted it out because you didn’t think it through? You’re literally the worst at expressing any of your feelings.”
Jimin wrinkled his nose. For some reason the memories didn’t make him want to shiver in cold and in pain, but they brought a pulse of laughter.
“You were no help at all! You literally told me to arrange some dramatic movie-like spectacle to ask him on a date.”
“I’m a romantic, what can I say,” Taehyung shrugged.
Jimin chuckled a little, startling, when the wind hit against the glass, making the windows vibrate a low noise.
“See, you are dramatic. Why else would you be standing here in the middle of the night in a fucking snow storm?”
Jimin scoffed.
But maybe Taehyung was right.
Maybe he had always been.
Maybe Jimin was just too wrapped up in himself, in his thoughts, in the stone eating away his insides, that he hadn’t stopped to think.
Stopped. To actually let himself be .
“Should we go inside?” Taehyung asked quietly. Jimin nodded, suddenly feeling how frozen his toes were.
“I can’t feel my feet,” Jimin mumbled. Taehyung huffed.
And then he wrapped his arm around Jimin’s waist and grabbed his legs, lifting him up from the ground. As an instinctive reaction, Jimin wrapped his arms around Taehyung’s neck, letting out a quiet squeak.
Jimin didn’t let himself think how good it felt.
“You’re dumb going outside barefeet,” Taehyung said as he put Jimin down, when they were safely inside. Jimin rolled his eyes, but didn’t reply.
Taehyung gave him a quick look, before stepping towards the living room.
“How about a few hours of sleep?”
“Bold of you to assume I’m able to sleep more than an hour,” Jimin hummed, but followed Taehyung back to where everyone else was sleeping.
They settled back on the floor, but instead of going on the other side of Yoongi, Taehyung laid down next to Hoseok, leaving space for Jimin.
Jimin didn’t say anything, because he knew that it would make him spiral.
Instead, he snuggled up next to Taehyung, giving himself permission to enjoy the warmth of the other body on the pretense that he was tired and couldn’t think straight.
He actually fell asleep, warm.
The marble around his heart cracking.
Maybe his soul was resting.
Maybe he’d never felt as secure.
But he wasn’t surprised.
And he’d been very dumb.
***
The sun was peeking through the icy flowers.
The light sparkled onto the sleeping eyes, sharp and bright.
“Can you turn the sun off,” Yoongi mumbled, cuddling up closer to Hoseok and burying his face into the man’s shoulder.
“At least it’s not storming anymore,” Namjoon noted, sitting up as he rubbed his eyes. He opened his mouth to talk more, but his eyes settled on the floor. He arched his brow, poking at his fiancé.
“Oh,” Jungkook muttered, sleepily chuckling. “What happened during the night?”
Obviously, this alerted everyone’s attention, and the half-asleep men peered over each other to look at Jimin, who had dug his nose into Taehyung’s neck. To look at Taehyung, who had his arm wrapped around Jimin.
“I’m cold,” Jimin mumbled into Taehyung’ skin.
“Right,” Jungkook chuckled. “I mean, it is winter, so I think we’re all prepared for the cold.”
“Fuck off,” Taehyung sighed into Jimin’s hair. Jimin wanted to laugh, but he didn’t want to give anyone more to talk about. So, he stayed quiet, but perhaps tightened his hold on Taehyung.
Just a little.
“Well, I think it’s time for breakfast!” Hoseok announced, sitting up. Yoongi groaned, unamused.
“Stop being so excited, Yoongi’s soul can’t handle that,” Seokjin chuckled.
“But how about coffee, baby cat? Could your soul deal with that?” Hoseok grinned, tickling the tip of Yoongi’s nose with his finger.
“Leave me alone,” Yoongi grumbled, but there was a little smile quivering on his lips.
“The power seems to be back,” Jungkook said, peering around at the appliances that were whirring again.
“I wonder if we’re snowed in,” Namjoon said, slowly getting up. He padded along to the window next to the front door, cracking open the curtains just slightly.
“Yeah, we’re not going outside anytime soon,” he noted. “I can’t even see the porch from under all the snow.”
Jimin remembered saying he’d be leaving first thing in the morning.
He glanced at his side, where Taehyung had also sat up and was stretching his arms up languidly.
Taehyung noticed Jimin watching and gave him a small smile.
Maybe Jimin was not in such a hurry.
***
After breakfast made by Yoongi, Hoseok and Seokjin, Taehyung was rolling his sleeves up to do the dishes.
“Go rest, I can do it,” Jimin said as he set down the last of the dishes he’d gathered from the dining table. “I’ve literally done nothing all the time we’ve been here, I think it’s my turn.”
“I don’t mind doing the dishes,” Taehyung insisted, stealing the rubber gloves before Jimin could grab them.
“That doesn’t mean you should always have to,” Jimin huffed, trying to reach for the gloves. Taehyung grinned, raising his arm up so the gloves were unreachable to Jimin.
“That’s unfair!” Jimin whined, trying to hop up to grab them.
“He does realize there’s another pair literally right next to the sink, right?” Yoongi muttered to Jungkook and Namjoon, as they looked at Jimin and Taehyung’s frolicking from further away.
“If he doesn’t, don’t dare and tell him,” Jungkook chuckled. “Let them flirt.”
“As long as they get the dishes done amongst acting like dumbasses,” Yoongi sighed.
“We can always hope,” Namjoon grinned.
Jimin had accepted the task of drying the dishes, and they did the chore in comfortable silence once they’d calmed down a little.
It reminded Jimin of how they’d used to do it in university after making an elephant’s portion of ramen to eat together straight from the pot.
How, at the same time, things had been both simpler and more complicated.
How Taehyung had always had a special smile he only shared with Jimin. How Jimin had realized his body slotted together with Taehyung’s as if instead of being two puzzle pieces that fit together, they were one piece. One, solid piece, one entity.
Of course, Jimin had thought it was stupid. He had thought he was feeling like that towards Taehyung because he’d never had such a close friend before.
That there were no such things as soulmates, meant-to-be’s, happily-forever-afters.
Jimin wasn’t sure what he believed and what he didn’t, anymore.
But he did believe he felt the tug between them, the string that had frailed up during the years, but had always still been there. Even if Jimin had tried to tuck it away. Forget it.
Not feel it every time he saw a piece of art with a similar style to Taehyung’s.
Seeing a piece of art that was Taehyung’s.
“You know,” Jimin said as he dried one of the coffee cups with a dish towel. “I sold one of your artworks, once.”
“What?” Taehyung almost dropped the plate he was scrubbing. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Jimin sighed. “It was the gallery I started working at right after graduating. You had that one piece… of the, of the moonflowers. In the snow. Remember?”
“Of course,” Taehyung said. “It was literally the first one I ever sold.”
“Really?”
“Well, besides exhibits during uni, it was the first one I had on show. In a proper exhibit. It was that fresh talent one, wasn’t it? But I didn’t… I didn’t know it was your gallery.”
“It wasn’t my gallery,” Jimin chuckled. “I was literally an intern but the owner’s actual curator got sick and I filled in for the exhibit.”
“B-but I was there. How come we didn’t cross paths?” Taehyung wondered.
Jimin let out a quiet hum.
Perhaps he’d been too broken then. The string had kept them apart, knowing. It wasn’t a time for them to meet.
“What’d you say to the buyer? To get them to buy it?” Taehyung asked.
“Now you’re just fishing for compliments,” Jimin grumbled, putting down the mug he’d been drying so long it was a miracle he hadn’t rubbed through the porcelain.
“Obviously,” Taehyung smirked. Jimin rolled his eyes.
“Well,” he muttered. “I just… said what you’d written in your application letter. To the exhibit. That it was about a long lost love, and how the emotions were so vivid and how the different styles mixed together evoked confusion and…”
“I didn’t write anything about emotions in my letter,” Taehyung noted, raising his brow. Jimin blushed.
“Well, I had to use my art degree to talk about brush strokes so I sounded like I knew something!”
Taehyung chuckled. He turned a little and leaned against the sink.
“What did my brush strokes say?”
Jimin looked down. He exhaled out the ice. The cold.
He inhaled warmth. Taehyung.
“They said that you regret things,” Jimin breathed, turning back to Taehyung, tilting his head up a little so he could look him straight in the eye.
“But they also said that you’re hopeful, because you believe in happiness and trust in people.”
“My brushes said all of that?” Taehyung murmured. Jimin's skin felt electric.
“You have trust and hope because you’re open . Because you’re brave. You’re not afraid to lay yourself bare.”
“I disagree with that though,” Taehyung said quietly, and Jimin was trying not to sink into his eyes.
“I never told you.”
“But you showed me,” Jimin whispered. “And I was too afraid.”
There was a small smile that flickered in Taehyung’s eyes. He pulled the rubber gloves off, and then softly swept some of Jimin’s fluffy hair from his eyes.
“But I could have told you. Said something. Not everything in this world is your fault, Jiminie.”
“B-but we m-mixed up Kookie in all of it. And it just ended up hurting him,” Jimin mumbled.
“He didn’t deserve to get tangled in our mess, that’s true,” Taehyung said. “But that’s life sometimes. We make mistakes and we learn from them. Does he seem unhappy now? Does he seem bitter?”
Jungkook was a treasure. He wasn’t bitter. He was sweet and kind and had been as confused as them.
Jungkook had apologized to Jimin, but maybe… maybe it was Jimin who should’ve apologized.
“I’m really sorry, Jiminie,” Taehyung whispered. “For everything. Not telling you how I felt. About Jungkook. I know it hurt you. And I guess, on some level… maybe I wanted it to. I got used to the thought that I could not be with you, but just… I guess I was still angry. And hurt. I guess we both were, with Kookie. And I mean, it wasn’t like I was just blaming you for everything at that point, I was just mostly angry at my ex. And Jungkook was there. And we were there for each other.”
Jimin’s breath trembled. His eyes felt hot. But he didn’t want to cry.
“I know,” Jimin mumbled. “I really do. I just… I guess you just can’t control your own hurt.”
Jimin glanced at the side, at the few dirty dishes still in the sink.
“Are w-we really doing this next to the remnants of our breakfast?”
Taehyung snorted. He slid his hands to Jimin’s cheeks, squishing them a little.
“Yes. We are.”
Jimin looked into the gentleness of Taehyung’s eyes. To the freshman who had seemed so weird, but had tied that red string onto Jimin’s finger in their first hug.
“B-but I’m a cold-hearted bitch,” Jimin muttered. Taehyung rolled his eyes.
“You know I’ve been working with my ice pick since the first day we met? I think at this point I’ve gotten through.”
“If you’ve been doing that all these years I think you’ve smashed through my heart,” Jimin chuckled.
“Haven’t I?” Taehyung grinned.
Jimin snorted.
Taehyung was such a clown.
But so was he.
“Yeah,” Jimin whispered, leaning a breath closer. Their noses almost touched, as Jimin looked up at Taehyung under his lashes. He ran his fingers gently to Taehyung’s waist, the heat reviving his nerve endings, popping them alive one by one.
“If I don’t run away now,” Jimin said quietly. “Can I kiss you?”
Taehyung pretended to think, and Jimin huffed. Taehyung laughed softly, his fingers finding their way into Jimin’s nape.
“If you promise not to run.”
There was still some ice covering Jimin’s heart. Protecting him, keeping him cold. Unattainable. Safe.
But had he ever been safe?
He’d always been hurt. Not safe.
He’d always been sad. Not safe.
Jimin didn’t trust himself. He didn’t trust his feelings, his reactions, his mind. But maybe he could learn.
“I… I’ll try my best. For you, Tae, I’ll try my best,” Jimin said, his voice choked. He was scared Taehyung wouldn’t accept. Because he couldn’t promise.
Taehyung smiled, as if he’d been expecting it.
“I’ll never expect more from you that you can give, Mimi. Your best is always enough. Trust it.”
“Trust myself?” Jimin asked with a wry tone.
“Exactly,” Taehyung hummed. “Trust yourself. And give yourself permission.”
Jimin breathed in tightly, his eyes on Taehyung’s. On his dark eyelashes and the sparkling, mischievous gaze that Jimin knew. That he knew , that he trusted, that he…
Loved.
“Do I have your permission?” Jimin asked breathlessly.
A beat of silence felt too long.
But then.
“Yes.”
Yes .
Yes.
Jimin was on his tiptoes, which no doubt was something Taehyung would comment on later.
The first time they’d kissed Jimin had been sad. Desperate. Angry.
He wasn’t sure how he felt now.
And maybe it was good just because of that.
The touch of Taehyung’s lips was so warm, that Jimin couldn’t even feel the shards around his heart. The icy flowers were either melting, or they had run away, scared of all the heat.
Jimin wished the cold would be gone for good.
He was used to being cold.
But, if one was used to something, did it mean it was okay? Did it mean one should just… settle?
Be okay with feeling like something was missing, like there was nothing to do to be better, to feel better?
Jimin knew that the cold was within him, and the only one who could fix it was himself. Not anyone else. Not even Taehyung.
But he could help. He could remind Jimin that he was worth it, that there was something he could do.
Jimin held his breath, as Taehyung’s lips moved against his. Taehyung’s body felt like that missing part of the one puzzle piece that he was. The string between them was weaving itself stronger, tying around them to keep them together.
Jimin knew Taehyung could feel the scorching tear running down his cheek, but he didn’t give Taehyung a chance to make a comment. He wrapped himself tighter against the other piece of his soul, giving all his senses permission and time to just feel.
To just be.
There was a quiet wolf-whistle that Jimin could hear through the warm haze, but he ignored it. Taehyung was holding him so securely, that it was as if they were inside their own panic room, hidden from the gazes of others. Hidden from everything.
But Jimin didn’t need a panic room. Not really. What he needed was to stop suffocating himself, to remind himself that it was okay to breathe. That he deserved to breathe.
That he deserved the oxygen he got from Taehyung, from his arms and his lips and his soul.
Another wolf-whistle. Taehyung chuckled against Jimin’s lips. Jimin huffed, pulling away just a few millimeters.
“Don’t act like you haven’t been wanting for this to happen for this entire time,” Jimin scoffed, turning to glance at their friends.
Okay, maybe he hadn’t expected for all of them to be there staring, with knowing grins on their faces.
Hoseok’s grin was the widest, as he was hanging on Seokjin’s arm. Yoongi looked at them with amusement, leaning onto Seokjin’s other side, as Jungkook looked like he was going to rip into a Chelsea smile from excitement. Namjoon didn’t look as enthralled, but the smirk that quivered on his lips told its own story.
“You’re very creepy, you know,” Taehyung said with a dry tone. He didn’t let go of Jimin, didn’t let him get much further at all, really.
“What, we’re just seeing The Ice Queen finally melting,” Hoseok snickered, and Jimin really wanted to throw the mug he’d been drying at Hoseok. Or maybe a knife.
“Fuck off,” Jimin huffed. “Concentrate on enamoring your boys and leave me alone.”
The blush that flourished Hoseok’s cheeks was priceless, to say the least. And there was, perhaps, the same flush on Yoongi’s cheeks, too. Seokjin was the only one who seemed unfazed.
Jungkook turned to look at the three men, interested.
“Okay but… Is there really something?” he asked, his big eyes wide.
“We’re here leering at Jimin and Taehyung,” Yoongi grumbled. “Not us.”
“But we’ve always known they’d end up together,” Namjoon said.
“Haven’t we known that Hobi, Yoon and Jin would end up together, too, though?” Jungkook noted, looking at his fiancé.
“A good point.”
Jimin glimpsed at Taehyung. The latter looked like he was about to burst into laughter. Instead, silently, he grabbed Jimin’s hand, and together they snuck away, quickening their steps when the others realized they were trying to run.
Taehyung shut the door of their room behind them, leaving the others whining on the other side. Taehyung giggled adorably, as Jimin wondered if he was even real.
“You know, when we ended up in the same room,” Taehyung said, taking a step closer. “I thought it would finally make or break us. And I wasn’t wrong.”
Jimin was quiet, biting his lip.
“It did break us, at first,” he whispered.
“Maybe,” Taehyung said. “But whatever the result was going to be… I was ready to accept it. As long as we’d both be ready to either close this book, or… to open the next chapter.”
Jimin’s heart felt like a double bass in a black metal song.
“Are you… are you sure you want the next chapter? W-with me?”
Taehyung smiled. The warm smile, that the ice in Jimin’s chest was weak for.
“I am. If you are.”
Jimin felt like crying, but he was tired of it. Crying. Of all the crying.
“I… I am. I want to learn all your brush strokes again.”
Taehyung looked like he was holding his breath for a moment. Quickly he erased the space between them, and the arms were around Jimin again.
“You’re so cheesy, Mimi.”
“I’ve been in love with an artist for years,” Jimin whispered. “One that paints romance. And feelings. It was bound to rub onto me.”
Jimin could’ve painted the smile Taehyung gave him.
“So when we get home. We’ll… we’ll try?”
For the first time, Jimin didn’t think.
“Yes. We’ll try. Really try.”
Jimin felt the string tightening, all of the weaves gathering around them to warm them, reminding them that the fact that they were together was enough. That they were enough . As one piece, but as separate, too.
Because life didn’t work like puzzles. Even one piece could be complicated, and it could take time to find the right place for it.
But eventually it would happen.
If you just trusted and gave space for warmth.
Let the flowers bloom, instead of trapping them in ice.
To let the spring come.