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MARRY ME, PARK JIMIN.
Bold, large letters glaring off the paper in thick black marker.
Immediately, Jimin's heart jumps into his throat and automatic laughter splutters out. He jams the notecard back into its envelope and thinks, Gah! Why do you have to be like this?!
Which is ridiculous because Jimin knows a hundred answers to that question and he loves them all. But he also loves his career and his fellow members, and he is very, very aware of certain lines they are not supposed to cross.
Taehyung is being a first-rate moron by pulling this dumbass prank, and anyway Jimin knows it's not a prank, that Taehyung is one hundred percent serious.
The breath shivers out of him nervously. He wants to laugh but that would only make it worse. Suddenly the air is thick with tension that the rest of them zero in, because of course they do. Hobi probably saw it, Jin definitely saw it, and Jimin feels his face go numb, acutely aware of the cameras.
He barely hears however Taehyung plays it off. ("Jimin-ah, I like you the most.")
Jimin parrots back, "Thank you, Taehyung-ssi. I also like you a lot," and tries to school his face while blood rushes in his ears.
—
Taehyung is weirdly aloof once they cut. He gives him a little smile and says, "I meant it."
It's entirely the wrong thing to say. But they're still technically working, producers from KBS are around, and they are not having this conversation here.
Jimin frowns. "I know," he says, in a low voice that makes his feelings clear.
Taehyung rubs his perfect chin, back and forth with his thumb and first finger. "I see."
They sit next to each other in the car but they don't talk, and none of the other members say anything about that, either.
—
He kept the envelope. At first it was to keep it out of anyone else's hands, god forbid literally anyone else got a glimpse of Taehyung's words that could absolutely implode on social media.
He swiped it off the set table thinking he'd burn it or something, but it ends up burning him instead. He can feel it through the pocket of his jacket all the way home.
Okay, fine, they've talked about it before. Growing old together. Staying in Bangtan for the rest of their lives. But not concrete plans; not marriage.
They talk more about things hanging directly over their heads: tours, free time, mixtapes, military service, the elusive Grammy and whether it could waive their conscription.
They live their lives in year-long blocks scheduled out start to finish; most of the time, it's hard for Jimin to see beyond that. The future looks like a blank slate that the label fills in for them.
Years back, when things were at their grimmest and they were talking about disbanding, Taehyung had been the one to brazenly tell the others that even if the group broke up, he and Jimin were staying together, would always be together.
He held Jimin's hand through the whole speech.
But that was really all they ever said about it, officially.
Still, Jimin knows the things Taehyung wants. Lots of kids. Property in the country. Trips they'll go on someday. More dogs.
It's the way Taehyung talks, is all. Sometimes he'll just tack on his dreams on the tail end of another thought. And Jimin has never exactly been able to peer through the fog of the future and see himself there.
—
What the hell? his manager texts him later, the first of a barrage of messages that finally end in, We'll get it covered in post. Don't do that again.
Jimin is tempted to text back that he didn't actually do anything, but that would set off another lecture, so he sends a shrug emoji instead.
And Jimin knows Taehyung is getting reamed by his own manager over it but he never betrays the smallest hint, lighthearted as ever, joking with Jungkook and nodding along to Namjoon's stories. Stealing corn chips from Yoongi. Relaxing in the makeup chair with his airpods in.
Every now and then Taehyung catches his eye and looks away. That feeling lingers.
—
They don't fight anymore; they haven't for years. These days, they disagree and then make up almost instantly, so it's weird that there's even this small thing between them.
If you didn't know them, you wouldn't even know. Bangtan are nothing if not complete professionals. They talk, they bring each other water bottles. It comes easily.
But every part of his body feels this weird itch, acutely aware that they haven't been alone together in nearly two days. It's annoying more than anything else.
And Jimin knows he's being stupid himself, putting this space between them. The confessions and promises, freeze-outs and make-ups, longing stares and ill advised horny escapades were all far behind them now.
It was just love, mellow and sweet, that lasted and lasted. Soulmates.
—
Alone in his room with the door closed, he takes the card all the way out of the envelope and reads Taehyung's boldly marked words, worrying at the corner with his fingernail.
MARRY ME, PARK JIMIN.
He stares at his name, at handwriting as familiar as his own, and can't help smiling at it.
Jimin tucks it away in a drawer. Out of sight, out of mind.
But he keeps coming back to it, over and over; can't help pulling it out again and again to gaze at Taehyung's plea with a soft stupid grin on his face.
He catches himself enough times that eventually, reluctantly, he's forced to admit that maybe, he does have an answer for this question. He's had it all along.
—
Okay, fine. He bought the damn thing in the first place, but it was just a thought, an itch he had to scratch. All he did was stuff it in the bottom of a jewelry box and never look at it again.
It's not like he was ever going to use it. It just— felt kind of nice, knowing it was there.
Taehyung's light is on and his door is halfway open, the way Jimin knows it will be until they've cleared this thing between them.
Nighttime always belongs to them. Years ago, that had been when they learned everything there was to know about each other. Talking late into the night while the other members slept. Going for walks and gazing at the stars. And later, sneaking off for clandestine blowjobs.
Taehyung is perched at his desk, and stands like he's been waiting for him. He probably has been.
They look at each other for a long time, and Jimin feels it: the kiss that he's been longing for, even though it's only been a day and a half. The same familiar pull as always, the way a plant bends towards sunlight.
The stupidest thing about love and all its many inconveniences and fucking hangups is that it never goes away. All it takes is one look and his insides go warm and mushy. Taehyungie, his heart says.
Jimin lets out a tired sigh and leans in.
Their mouths meet like the ends of two wires that light up the second they touch. Taehyung, warm and achingly soft, the drag of his tongue sending a heady rush through Jimin's blood.
He's kissed Taehyung in every time zone at this point, but it never gets old, anywhere, any time.
"Huh," says Taehyung, licking his lips. He doesn't look remotely sorry.
Jimin gives him a look. "Don't do that again," he says.
And Taehyung, damn it, just gives him one of those wild, carefree grins and shrugs with his shoulders impossibly high. Impossibly cute. Jimin almost smiles, but he also feels like yelling.
"Don't," he says, more seriously, waiting for Taehyung to deflate and for his own feelings to do... something, he's not sure what. He feels frustrated, but also full of butterflies, and this entire thing is stupid anyway because Taehyung started this, didn't he? MARRY ME, PARK JIMIN.
Taehyung's eyes catch him in the low light. The air between them is humming expectantly, waiting for another kiss. And Jimin almost thinks to hell with it and that he'll just let sleeping dogs lie, but no. He's made it this far.
He exhales, once, twice, and digs in his pocket for the ridiculous silk baggie and holds it out to Taehyung without looking at him.
"What is this?"
Jimin pulls his mouth to one side. Open it and find out, idiot, he thinks.
"It's... for you."
He hears the rustle of silk as the drawstring is released and upended; sneaks a peek to where there is awe and softness on Taehyung's face, and looks away just as fast.
"Where did you get this?" Taehyung asks, whispering now.
Jimin tries for nonchalant. "I had it made."
He can tell his tone sounds off. Taehyung's eyes flick upwards and then back to the ring like a magnet, a crease appearing between his brows. He turns the band over in his gentle fingertips, inspecting it closely.
Despite having never once looked at it in all this time, Jimin remembers the details of the ring perfectly. Finished platinum, silvery bright; along the inside, a tiny embedded diamond accompanied by an inscription.
"Un jour," reads Taehyung. "A day?"
"One day," Jimin corrects, annoyed that he even has to. "Someday." God, he hates French even more than he hates English. He should have just done it in Hangeul, but Taehyung, the stupid romantic, loves French.
"Someday... what?"
Jimin takes a shaky breath. "Someday, you and me, we'll—" and his throat abruptly closes up, words won't come out, and also he is kind of having trouble remembering what he was even going to say, which, okay—
"Jimin-ah," Taehyung says in his most serious voice, eyes glittering. "Is this an engagement ring?"
Jimin's mouth immediately mashes into a scowl, and he jerks his head from left to right, frowning and pouting even as Taehyung's smile grows bigger and bigger until finally he gives up, lets his head drop and his shoulders slump.
Taehyung makes a high-pitched sound of victory that makes his toes curl inside his slippers. His hands come and lift Jimin's chin and he's kissing all over his face; cheeks, forehead, eyelids, chin, nose, lips, the excitable insatiable Taehyung that Jimin loves, until the frenzy slows, and dark eyes are staring across from him, grave again. "I love you."
"I hate you," he whines back.
"No," Taehyung sings out, dragging the word up like a violin bow, teasing and delighted. His finger, already adorned, taps against Jimin’s cheek expectantly.
"I love you," he huffs, blushing even in this dark room, alone with the only person he ever says it to, his soulmate, his Taehyung. The sunlight of his life.
"Good," says Taehyung, and takes Jimin's face in both hands, palms over his burning cheeks, and kisses him on the mouth, slow and full.
—
Afterwards, curled in Taehyung's bed, they float in this new feeling. Satisfaction is radiating off of Taehyung like UV rays, invisible but so strong, and Jimin can't look away or keep the smile off his own face.
There's a warm glow in his stomach, settled with the knowledge that alright, the future is set now, and the years can just roll by at whatever pace, because there's something waiting at the end. Taehyung and all his dreams.
Long fingers twine with Jimin's own, angling where the light flashes off the polished silver band. "I love it," Taehyung purrs in his ear.
"How long have you had this?" he asks, too-casual, and Jimin flops over onto Taehyung's chest and groans into his neck.
Taehyung's musical laugh rings out, vibrating under Jimin's skin, and his long arms fold around them both as Jimin sighs out one deep, even breath and thinks, Someday.