Work Text:
Close your eyes
If you're tired, lean on me for a second
The tiredness talking to yourself in your head
Even if there is no sound, it reaches my heart
— I'll Be Your Enemy by Taemin (ft. Wendy)
Oxford, 1813
“You— Lazy— Constipated— Ass.”
Taehyung giggled, as Jimin’s knee sank deeper into the curve of his back. Perhaps he was being a little bit sadistic, but as much as humiliating being defeated in a match could be, he recognized that being pinned against the ground by such a handsome boy wasn’t as unpleasant as it might have sounded or looked. Rather, he felt the exciting rush of his emotions taking over him - which rarely boded anything good, whenever Jimin was around.
And if someone had to be blamed for this situation, it was indeed Taehyung and his idiotic sense of humour.
That, as well as Jimin’s bare chest.
A lot had happened in the brief leap between a smirk, some teasing remarks and Taehyung's arms wrapped around his tiny waist.
“You’re getting more—” Taehyung huffed, struggling for air, “and more," another grunt - this time a little bit choked, "inventive— with your insults.”
The shadow projected by the last rays of sun coming from the window followed the motion of Jimin's body, as he shook his head.
“I deemed you smarter.”
What a deep, hoarse voice, for someone who was winning against his opponent.
“I am smart,” Taehyung snorted, offended.
“You’re smart in a hideous way,” Jimin remarked, making Taehyung wonder if it was fondness that he was detecting in his voice.
“Which in my opinion,” Taehyung rapidly snapped back, despite being squeezed by Jimin's bulk, “is the only smart, possible way.”
Jimin laughed at that. Taehyung exhaled deeply, struggling for air, and that's when Jimin froze, sensing his friend's breath coming cracked under him.
“Are you okay?" he asked immediately, sounding hesitant.
He was probably frowning, given the worried tone. Taehyung wasn't certain of that, nor of anything else, slammed against the ground as mercilessly as he was, but he could sense Jimin's grip growing less and less strong against his wrists, as he leaned forward. "Taehyung—”
Before he could finish his sentence, Taehyung shifted his weight forward. His hands grabbed back Jimin's arms and dragged him down into the ground as well - leveraging on his knees and Jimin's terrible reflexes, since he had lowered his guard down.
A burst of air escaped his mouth, as Jimin's body hit the ground. The second after, just as he was emerging from the frenzy taste of pain, Taehyung had already towered him - sitting on his crotch with a cocky attitude, as Jimin's groans of pain echoed through the empty room.
“Got you,” he smiled triumphantly, arching his eyebrows.
Jimin tried to free himself, but failed miserably.
The fact was - Taehyung was cumbersome. Out of Jimin's league, those rare times he set his mind upon something - anything - of his interest. And Taehyung was very, very interested in Jimin. So interested, he wouldn't let Jimin win after being demolished so foolishly in a fight - not even if Jimin's attempts to get Taehyung away from him were getting messier and way cuter than Taehyung's poor heart could bear.
Eventually, Jimin resigned to remain sprawled in that uncomfortable position - pouting and sulking like a baby.
“You’re such a coward,” he hissed at Taehyung, exhausted. Nevertheless, there were traces of amusement - and even affection - on his features as he said so.
“Perhaps I just enjoy tricking you," Taehyung winked at him, mocking his signature sign.
Jimin rolled his eyes and relaxed completely - his eyes intensely staring at something on Taehyung's face.
For a moment, Taehyung wondered if he was that sweaty, or if Jimin just liked staring at his face. But no, Jimin wasn't so obvious. He loved to walk the fine line between flirting and being condescending, and he was definitely used to Taehyung's face - from the first breakfast in the morning to the torrid lessons taking place on the campus.
It was odd, though, how hungry he looked. How messed up his face was, with the just mix of sweat and redness.
Taehyung was on the verge of asking him, when he realized nothing would've stopped him from kissing Jimin if the latter had been the case. And no one had to know Taehyung as much as Jimin did, to recognize he had no self-control over his emotions.
So he chose not to, in a strange flash of lucidity. Indeed, Jimin's body was too exposed. His body was too warm. His face was way too close. And those lips - those sinful, plump and now parting lips - were too tempting to—
“I can see that,” Jimin murmured breathily, and Taehyung could finally tell just by the inflation of his voice that they were both thinking something very, dangerously naughty and impure, as they lost sight of the meaning or the direction of that conversation. That the difference between metaphor and reality was getting more and more blurred.
“Invested, Park?” Taehyung whispered.
An innocent question, triggered more by curiosity than vanity. Yet, despite the legitimacy of that questionable look, when Taehyung moved his face closer to Jimin - waited for his response - Jimin's eyes grew wilder, just like Taehyung had been expecting from him, and he pushed Taehyung away playfully - the frantic rhythm of his heart still echoing inside his rib-cage, sending shivers through Taehyung's bones as he loudly clenched his arms against the pavement.
Jimin cursed, looking around them to check for witnesses. Taehyung, instead, laid on the ground laughing his ass off.
“You're such an idiot," Jimin snorted.
"That's why you adore me, sweetheart."
Taehyung watched him standing up. Flexing his muscles. Idly retracing his steps, reaching the edge of the rink, to rescue his blouse. When he wore it, the fabric absorbed the sweat, indulging on his abs.
Taehyung lowered his eyes, the smile on his mouth slowly waning.
“Weren’t you in London?”
“It wasn’t as fun without you around,” Jimin said with a vein of sarcasm, throwing a towel at him.
“Thank you," Taehyung murmured, even if absent-mindedly. He dried the sweat on his face, considering whether to voice his questions or not, when Jimin intercepted his stare and halted, curious.
"You can tell me."
He could always tell Jimin. That's why everything was way easier with him, in comparison to anybody else - because Jimin cared. And he cared deeply.
So deeply he was the only one appreciating Taehyung's observant attitude and unusual sharpness. Deeply enough to try to chase away every time every trace of pensiveness from his friend's face.
That, as well as many other things both of them weren't ready to confess to each other yet.
“You look—”
“Handsome?” Jimin tried to guess with an arrogant smile, helping him to stand up.
“Strange,” Taehyung squinted his eyes, not leaving his hand, “Or at least - stranger than when you departed."
Jimin didn't comment. Which wasn't surprising, but particularly suspicious, given he had gone back to London behind his father's explicit request.
"Did something happen?” Taehyung insisted.
“Why must something have happened?" Jimin averted his eyes. He tried to pull his hand back, but Taehyung's hold was made of iron. It made Jimin look vulnerable. Naked. Exposed.
Jimin sighed. "Tae, I always exercise whenever I have free time. Who knows - maybe I wanted to enjoy my solitude, before being questioned by Scotland Yard.”
Taehyung raised an eyebrow and pulled Jimin closer. His eyes were glimmering in the dark.
"My questions are way more pleasant," Taehyung purred with a drawl and raspy voice, drawing a little scoff - and an unimpressed gaze - out of Jimin. "Besides, we both know you enjoy the sound of your own voice way too much to keep it for yourself.”
Jimin didn't deny it, smiling softly at him.
He was finally relaxing. They both knew that the door was closed - Taehyung was the one who always mended after that boring and dirty job - but Jimin was always on edge. Always alert. He might have loved Taehyung - it didn't matter if only as a friend or a lover - but that rouse, and all the risks implied were sometimes a burden too heavy to carry alone. Jimin's smile could have been aiming at him, but it didn't reach his eyes like usual.
Taehyung was getting more and more worried.
“Hey. You can tell me," he mellowed, cupping his cheeks. As soon as he did so, Jimin leaned on his touch - closing his eyes, tilting his head, inhaling Taehyung's scent. At that moment, it felt like he was completely abandoning himself to Taehyung. "If something distracts you, if there's anything I can do to help - you just have to tell me.”
A few heartbeats passed - in which Jimin breathed deeply, calming himself - before he opened his eyes and covered Taehyung's hands with his own.
“There is,” he said with a deep, vibrant voice. “Something that is troubling me so much, lately, I think I'll go crazy one of these days.”
Taehyung gulped and waited, scared.
Jimin's lips moved to his ear with a certain hesitancy, ready to share his deepest secrets.
“It’s a tall," he whispered, "insufferable, stick in the mud boy, with puppy eyes and the most perfect, juicy butt I've ever seen in my entire life—”
Taehyung pushed him away, swearing profusely. Jimin laughed and hugged him from behind.
"Sorry, sorry," he said in a rapid litany, finding his way on the crook of Taehyung's nape. "But you were making such a face!"
"Such a face you couldn't refrain from taking advantage of my kind heart, could you?"
"Exactly," he smacked a kiss on his cheek, trying to compensate for the lack of affection they both hadn’t received during the last week they had spent apart.
Taehyung put his defence on, refusing to give in, but the bastard was already dangling his legs left and right - going along with Jimin's rhythm, as a rush of relief took over him.
"'An insufferable, stick in the mud boy,'" he parrotted, suppressing a smile. "Why does it sound so familiar?"
“Oh, I have no idea. I rarely get what happens inside your mind. All those little mechanisms working and working nonstop overnight—”
“Hey!” Taehyung let out, tired of his nonsense.
Jimin giggled happily and squeezed him more, as Taehyung tried to push his face away.
“You said I would receive a reward, by the time I would come back," he rubbed his nose against his jawline, surprisingly demanding.
“So?”
“I can't see it.”
“Well," Taehyung mused on it thoroughly, continuing swinging like a metronome. "Quoting Plato and his theory of ideas, you don’t necessarily have to—”
“Oh, can't you kiss me already?”
And he did. Taehyung kissed him on the cheek - extremely candidly - inciting such an astonished expression on Jimin's face, he started blowing against his ear and his neck until Taehyung accepted defeat, turned around between his arms and kissed him as Jimin wished.
Jimin sighed in contentment, but it was brief. Extremely brief. His eyes turned into a puppy, as Taehyung hit him lightly on the forehead with a finger.
"Idiot," Taehyung teased him.
But he was his idiot. His. Only his. His person, his Jimin, his friend. And perhaps it was bad. Perhaps they were permanently ruining their friendship, as well as risking their own future, just for a couple of stolen kisses and sinful nights. But when such bright eyes staring at him like he was something he never thought he would deserve in his life - there was little Taehyung could do out of his own volition, except oblige him in every possible way.
There was no guarantee it would've lasted. No way to predict the future. No certainty, no way out, no alternatives, to be together. But in the loneliness of that room, it was only him and Jimin in the world. And Taehyung loved him with every fibre of his lonely heart.
"I missed you," Jimin smiled at him, breathing against his lips.
"I missed you too."
Jimin had no idea how much.