Chapter Text
Park Jimin is bad news.
He’s everything you want but can’t have; sin personified with those tight jeans and ripped abs, with his shirts that fit too tight and fall too loose, leaving little to the imagination.
He just has that look in his eye, a look that says, I’m gonna rock your world baby, I can do things to you, things you’ve never even dreamt of. I’m gonna ruin you for anybody else.
It’s the way he walks, the way he talks, the way he laughs, lips pink and curved with an edge of something dangerous.
Jungkook has known that from day one, but his heart still stumbles and falls everytime Jimin smiles.
Jungkook wants to be a star.
He’s not expecting to fall in love when he shows up at Big Hit, aged fifteen, his entire life stuffed into a little black backpack.
He’s not expecting Park Jimin to show up a year later, lighting Jungkook up from the inside with the warmth of his smile.
It’s Jimin who seeks him out first, grabbing Jungkook by the arm so they can walk to dance rehearsals together. It’s Jimin who remembers Jungkook’s sixteenth birthday and spends all his allowance buying Jungkook a present -- a cap from Off-White, by far the most expensive thing Jungkook has ever owned.
It’s Jimin who finds him hiding in the bathroom, cheeks wet and desperately homesick, and holds him tight all the way until dawn.
They wake up curled up against each other the next day, Jungkook’s head pillowed on Jimin’s chest.
“Hey,” he says, interlacing their fingers, “how’re you feeling?”
Jimin’s smiling at him, eyes soft and a little sleepy. The morning sunlight floods in through the windows, haloing him in a soft glow.
I’m in love, Jungkook thinks, staring into Jimin’s smiling eyes, and when Jimin laughs and pulls him close, he goes.
The rumors aren’t new.
People talk; they whisper about Jimin’s lips, his ass, his pouty mouth, the way he’d let anyone do anything to him, you can just tell, they laugh, he’s that kind of guy.
“Is it true?” Dongwook asks. His eyes are bright with malice. “Does he really let all of you fuck him?”
Jungkook shoulders past him without answering, fists clenched so he doesn’t do something he regrets.
He knows Jimin. And in the years they’ve lived together, Jimin has only ever been kind and sweet and genuine and affectionate. Jungkook knows because it was the easy way Jimin offered love and affection that made him fall in love in the first place.
Jimin doesn’t seem bothered by the rumors and still smiles warmly at anyone who looks his way. Jungkook basks in his company, in his sweet touches and lingering affection and forgets all about the rumors.
That is, until the day Yoongi stumbles into practice, grabs Jimin by the wrist and disappears with him in tow.
Jungkook waits half an hour before following them out, he checks the other dance studios, the bathroom before he comes to a stop in front of Yoongi’s studio, hand poised to knock.
“Hyung,” it’s Jimin. “Take your shirt off.”
Yoongi chuckles. “God, you’re so fucking demanding sometimes---”
He cuts off, the words bleeding into a low grunt.
“Shit,” Jimin hisses, “sorry.”
“No,” It’s Yoongi again, sounding breathless, “you can’t stop now, fuck, if you stop i won’t be able to--”
Jungkook doesn’t wait to hear anymore.
But now he’s thinking about it and Dongwook’s words from so many months ago come flooding back like they never left.
It’s all Jungkook can think about these days, analyzing and overanalyzing. Does Jimin look at everyone that way? Is it different, the way Jimin lowers his head to whisper to Taehyung, lips so close they almost touch? Is it different when he pulls Jungkook close and tells him he is his favorite?
Jungkook is young and confused, so he deals with it the only way he knows how -- he begins avoiding Jimin.
Jungkook does it so he doesn’t have to deal with Jimin warm and pressed against his side. He ducks out of Jimin’s hugs, so he doesn’t have to feel the way Jimin's breath fans across his neck. He avoids rising to Jimin’s teasing, the way he asks for kisses and dates in a way that makes Jungkook’s chest seize up with how badly he wants to believe in them.
Jimin sighs, complaining to anyone who will listen that Jungkook doesn’t love him, that he can’t stand being around him for one minute.
It’s the furthest thing from the truth, but Jungkook would rather have him believe that than figure it out.
The end of year award ceremonies are Jimin’s favorite.
He loves performing, he loves the attention. He loves the way heads turn when he enters a room -- men, women, it doesn’t matter. He’s Korea’s number one It Boy, the name on everybody’s lips.
Whenever they go out, idols show up in droves, surrounding Jimin, complimenting his performances. He accepts their touches sweetly, laughing a little too long, showing off the curve of his neck, his shirt falling open to reveal his chest, smooth and muscled like the rest of him.
Jungkook clenches his jaw and looks away.
It’s been months now, and he thinks he should have gotten used to the sight.
But he's still in love and so things don't get any easier.
“Jungkook,” Jimin says, when he stumbles back into the dorm at three am, lips pink and smelling like cigarette smoke and whiskey.
He’s been at a club, Jungkook thinks, when Jimin drapes himself across his back with a happy sigh and the thought makes his stomach sour.
“What do you want?”
“Jungkook,” Jimin singsongs, “give me a kiss.”
Jungkook frowns, cheeks going hot.
It’s stupid because Jimin still says this all the time, still goes around sprinkling his affection in that carelessly hurtful way when in Jungkook’s world, bells ring when Jimin laughs, and his smile fills up Jungkook’s entire heart. And it hurts that Jimin could offer this kiss casually to everyone but that for Jungkook it would feel like forever..
Jungkook shifts, nudging him off. “Get off me, hyung, you’re drunk.”
Jimin pouts. “I’m not drunk.”
“Well, I’m busy,” Jungkook says, “can’t you go bother someone else?”
Jimin’s eyes are wide in the dark.
“But I like you, Jungkookie,” he says, so sweetly and sincerely he breaks Jungkook’s heart all over again. “I only ever wanna spend time with you. You’re my favorite, you know that.”
“Well I hate it,” Jungkook says flatly, “I wish you’d just fucking leave me alone.”
The room is silent and Jungkook thinks Jimin has left before he hears a quiet choked sob.
“Why’re you so mean, Jungkookie?” Jimin’s looking at him, big eyes sad and wet, “you don’t treat anyone else like this.”
His lower lip trembles, “you cuddle with Taehyung all the time, but when I touch you you just,” he sniffles, wiping the back of his palm over his nose. “Why do you hate me so much?”
Jimi’s eyes are downcast, and he looks so miserable like this, Jungkook's heart clenches.
I don’t hate you, his heart is screaming, I just like you so much, everytime you’re around I can't even think straight, and I can't be a toy, something you use and throw away because if I get to have you once I won't be able to let you go.
Instead Jungkook slides his chair back, the legs screeching as they slide across the wooden floor. “Go get cleaned up, hyung, you’re drunk.”
In the morning, Jin shoots them both a quizzical look when Jimin wordlessly climbs into Yoongi’s car, popping his earbuds in and tipping his head toward the window, a clear sign he doesn’t want to talk.
“What’s wrong with him?” Namjoon mouths, like Jungkook should know the answer.
Jungkook does of course, but he just shrugs and climbs into his own car. After a few seconds, Taehyung climbs in after him.
“Jimin won’t tell me what’s wrong,” Taehyung says, plucking one of Jungkook’s earbuds out and rolling it between his fingers, “he always tells me what’s wrong."
“Why are you asking me?” Jungkook snaps, snatching his earbud back, “maybe you should ask one of his thousand boyfriends.”
Taehyung chuckles, but when Jungkook just glares back at him his jaw drops.
It might be a comical sight if Jungkook wasn’t so annoyed.
"You're... you're serious?" Taehyung gasps, "Jimin doesn’t have a thousand boyfriends. He doesn’t even have one .”
“Fine, if you want to be technical. His hookups.”
Taehyung gapes at him.
Jungkook crosses his arms over his chest, feeling defensive. “What?”
“Jungkook,” Taehyung says, urgently, “Jimin’s never even been kissed.”
Jungkook stares at him, thinking about Jimin just from this afternoon, sinking to his knees as he stared into the mirror, lips pouted with those fuck-me eyes.
Jungkook had politely angled his gaze away.
“He definitely has.”
“No,” Taehyung says, beginning to look annoyed, “he definitely hasn’t.”
“He doesn’t actually have to tell you everything, hyung,” Jungkook says irritably, “he could be hooking up with a million people and you wouldn’t even know.”
“You mean like you and your hookups?” Taehyung says with a smirk, “you’re not as subtle as you think. So trust me I’d know.”
Jungkook thinks of all the nights Jimin goes out to the clubs, coming back smelling like someone else. “You really wouldn’t.”
“Maybe,” Taehyung says stubbornly. “But I’m sure about this one.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes, snapping his earbuds back in again. “Whatever.”
Taehyung glares, plucking the earbud back out of Jungkook's ear and tossing it onto the ground.
"Hyung! What the hell?"
“Ya! Jeon Jungkook! I don't care what the hell you wanna believe about anyone else, but I'm not gonna let you go on with this stupid idea you have Jimin!"
"You wanna know how I know, Jungkook? Because the other day we were play-fighting and I leaned in to kiss his cheek and he panicked. He panicked so hard I thought he was going to cry. So trust me, when I say Jimin isn’t hooking up, and doesn’t have a boyfriend. He hasn’t even been kissed. ”
Taehyung’s chest is heaving after his speech, and he may be a good actor, but even he can’t fake this.
“But,” Jungkook says and falters.
He thinks about the way Jimin had been standing so close, Jongin’s fingers slipping past his collarbones to pad at his neck, and Jimin had just leaned into his touch, his eyelashes fluttering shut. “He’s so sexual.”
“It’s an act,” Taehyung says, quietly. “You of all people should know that. Even you and your dumb virtual girlfriends have gotten more action than he has.”
But why? Jungkook wonders, Jimin could have anyone, easy.
Eventually, Taehyung huffs.
“God, You’re so stupid sometimes, I can’t believe it . You think everything’s a game, and maybe that’s true for a lot of people, but Jimin’s not like that.”
He sighs, staring at Jungkook like Jungkook’s missing the entire point.
“Jungkook, Jimin always says exactly what he means.”
“No he doesn’t,” Jungkook says, thinking of all the times Jimin had said he wanted to hold Jungkook’s hand, that he wanted to take Jungkook out on a date, that he--
Taehyung stares at him for a long moment, before his expression softens. “Yes, he does.”
“Hyung,” Jungkook says, tentatively stepping into Yoongi's studio.
It’s been a while since he’s been here. It’s been a while since they hung out just the two of them. Jungkook can date it back to exactly when.
“Hi,” Yoongi says. He pulls his headphones off, surprised but pleased. “Come in."
Jungkook shuffles in, settling down on the couch and Yoongi spins around on his chair to look at him.
“Go on then, I know you came here for a reason.”
Jungkook stares at his hands, fumbling for the words because no matter how chill Yoongi is, there’s no not-awkward way to ask if your bandmates casually fuck around with each other. If they still do.
“Jungkook,” Yoongi says with a sigh, “spit it out.”
“Remember that time in practice?”
Yoongi gives him a look. "We spend a lot of time in practice."
“Fine," Jungkook groans, "the time you. When you grabbed Jimin hyung and disappeared?”
Yoongi frowns, thinking.
“The time In the blue studio where you guys were gone so long Hoseok hyung threatened to make us stay overnight to make up for it.”
“Oh,” Yoongi says, slowly. “Yeah I remember. Why?”
Because you broke my heart, Jungkook thinks. Because I've never been able to look at Jimin the same since.
“I heard you," Jungkook says softly, "the two of you in your studio."
Yoongi stares at him, confused, for a long moment before his gaze abruptly sharpens.
“Why do you think we were late?” he asks, carefully.
Jungkook is silent and that seems to be answer enough.
“Jungkook,” Yoongi says, and then he sighs. “Fuck. I don’t like telling people about this, but that was around the time I got into an accident. We were already so close to making it then, I didn’t want to tell anyone and blow our chances. But Jimin found out. He helped patch my shoulder up whenever it got too bad.”
Jungkook blinks.
That’s… that’s wholly unexpected.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, ‘ oh ’.” Yoongi says and gives him a hard look. “Is this what your little temper tantrum has been about?"
He shakes his head. "Look, Namjoon told me Dongwook’s been talking shit to you. He’s a piece of trash. I hope you don’t believe a fucking word he says.”
Jungkook thinks about Jimin, curled into himself, his eyes wet with tears.
Too late, Jungkook thinks, too fucking late.
Over the next few days Jungkook watches Jimin carefully, eagerly, like he's re-learning him all over again.
He watches the way Jimin eyefucks the mirror as he rolls his hips in slow, breathtaking circles, eyes hooded. When the song finally comes to an end, Jimin collapses onto the floor in a fit of giggles, covering his face with his hands like he's too embarrassed to stand it another minute. He sprawls on the floor smiling too wide, limbs open and goofy and it's not sexual anymore it's just cute.
Really, really cute.
In between their water breaks, Jimin collapses into Namjoon's lap, and ruffles Taehyung's hair and gently kisses the boo-boo on Jin's elbow. Jimin might be confident when he's offering his affections, but Jungkook watches the way he immediately gets flustered whenever anyone tries to tease him back, the way he shifts deliberately away when anyone gets too close.
And finally Jungkook notices, it's not Jimin who’s the bad guy here.
It’s Jungkook.