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Jeongguk was in love with Jimin.
It was a thought that occupied his mind at all times, but Jeongguk didn’t like to dwell on. It was pointless to, the dull pain that never left his eyes a constant reminder of why he should do anything but think of the other boy. Most days Jeongguk distracted himself at all times, losing himself in his work or hobbies to make sure there was never a moment his mind could wander to that pretty smile or soft voice.
And for the most part, Jeongguk succeeded, going weeks at a time without thinking too much or too hard about him. But there were days when that was tough, days where a certain melodic laugh would echo in his head, and it was impossible to think of anything else. So when Jeongguk woke up today after dreaming about crescent eyes and small hands in his, he knew it would be one of those days.
He tried to ignore it, the image of him that appeared every time he closed his eyes. He tried to lose himself in work like always, but of course, it was no use, and now he was ending the night like he had many times before: alone in the darkness of his kitchen, pouring himself a drink, and allowing himself to think about Jimin and everything he felt for him.
He wasn’t sure exactly when it happened, him falling in love. It was something he realized only recently. But it must’ve been a while ago, developing and growing over the year the two had known each other. If he had to pinpoint a moment, he would say it might’ve been that time Jimin surprised him with a picnic one afternoon. The older boy had insisted Jeongguk meet him at a park, and when he finally found the obscure tree Jimin had told him to go to, Jeongguk saw a picnic blanket laid out on the grass, a very excited Jimin sitting in the middle of it with a basket in his lap.
“Ta-da!” he had chirped as Jeongguk approached, proud smile plastered on his face. “I spent all week searching for the right treats, I hope you like them.” Jeongguk did like them, but there was something about sitting alone with Jimin that he liked more. Every time Jimin’s sweet laughter filled the air—sweeter than the strawberry mochi he fed him—it made something bloom in his chest. Something prettier than the spring flowers growing around them.
Or maybe it happened the day Jimin showed up to their beach day with friends wearing nothing but the tiniest shorts Jeongguk had ever seen. His friend Namjoon had given him a light smack and told him to stop drooling, much to Jeongguk’s embarrassment. But he had looked at him with a knowing glint in his eye, and Jeongguk hadn’t been quite sure what it meant.
“It’s so hot Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin had whined moments later. “Can you please put sunscreen on me?” Jeongguk did, of course, always more than willing to help his hyung. But as he smoothed his hands over Jimin’s soft skin, his cheeks had burned hotter than the summer sun beating down on them.
It could also have been the time Jimin took him out for coffee. “Just the two of us,” Jimin had wanted. “I feel like we don’t do that enough.” Jeongguk couldn’t help the way his fingers trembled slightly around the coffee cup in his hands the whole time. Jimin’s cheeks had been dusted pink from the cool wind outside, and his eyes twinkled every time he laughed. It was a lot to take in, so every few minutes Jeongguk found himself tearing his gaze away from the charming sight and calming his racing heart by looking at the changing colors of the leaves on the trees outside the coffee shop. He watched as the leaves were swept away from their branch and fluttered through the wind before falling ever so gently. Jeongguk felt an awful lot like the leaves.
There was also the time he and Jimin had asked him to take a walk with him to look at the holiday decorations in town. When Jeongguk arrived, though, Jimin was thoroughly unimpressed with how he apparently inappropriately dressed for the weather.
“Jeongguk-ah it’s freezing outside! Why are you only wearing the thinnest jacket you own?” Jeongguk had found Jimin’s fussiness quite endearing, giggling at the way Jimin grumbled and pouted while taking off his scarf and insisting Jeongguk wear it. “I don’t want you to catch a cold,” he had huffed, tying the scarf around Jeongguk’s neck. The smaller boy looked up at him, frown prominent on his face. Jeongguk felt like he would much rather stare at Jimin all day than any Christmas lights. “You need gloves too,” Jimin said after a long moment.
“I do not, hyung,” Jeongguk laughed. “Stop fussing, I’ll be fine.”
“Yes you do! Look, your fingers are all red already!” Jimin grabbed his hands, pulling them close to his mouth before blowing warm air on them. His lips brushed against Jeongguk’s fingers, just for a moment, but it was enough to make the younger boy’s breath catch in his throat. He became aware then, of a feeling deep inside him. One he always got when around Jimin but couldn’t quite name. It was soft and light, covering his whole world much like the fresh winter snow on the ground around them.
There were many more moments like those that could have been the beginning of the fire that burned in Jeongguk’s chest. Or maybe he had always been in love, doomed from the very first moment they met, a fly caught in the intricate web that was Park Jimin and all his charms. Maybe Jeongguk never stood a chance, fated to have his life taken over by this thing called love, whether he wanted to or not.
Jeongguk sighed, laying his cheek against the cold marble of the countertop as he watched droplets of water slide down the glass of his drink. Jeongguk was in love with Jimin, yes, he knew that now. His heart ached for the other boy, and he wanted nothing more than to give him everything, wash him in the sea of endless love he has for him, but he couldn’t. The raging waters were forced to stay inside, filling his lungs, and Jeongguk felt like he’d drown.
Because Jeongguk was in love with Jimin, but Jimin wasn’t in love with Jeongguk.
The ice in Jeongguk’s drink clinked as it shifted. It was melting already, warmed by the heat of his tight grip. He lifted his head slightly, just enough to bring the glass to his lips and gulp down the liquid. He didn’t grimace at the burn in his throat, used to it by now. Besides, nothing hurt as much as seeing Jimin with another man.
Jimin wasn’t in love with Jeongguk. He was in love with someone else.
He started to cry the stars over a month ago, right after Jimin broke the news to him. He had been so excited, rushing to sit Jeongguk down and whisper to him a secret. Jeongguk had expected good news about work, or maybe an exciting trip, but instead Jimin spilled out sweet words of his feelings for another man.
“He asked me to be his boyfriend, Jeongguk-ah,” he had said, excited, but something hidden underneath. “I really like him, and I want to say yes but… I’m nervous. What if things don’t work out? I’ve never liked anyone the way I like him, I’m not sure I’d be able to handle that.” Jimin had sighed, looked into Jeongguk’s eyes with so much vulnerability, so much trust, like he valued Jeongguk’s opinion more than anything else in the world. “ Do you think I should say yes?”
Jeongguk had felt the overwhelming urge to be selfish, to tell him to say no, that it wouldn’t work out because Jimin wasn’t supposed to be him, he was supposed to be with someone else. He had wanted to, though he wasn’t sure why. But he knew couldn’t. Jimin had trusted Jeongguk, came to him for help, and Jeongguk had to be the supportive friend he was in need of.
“Yes,” Jeongguk had said. “I think you should say yes. You deserve to be happy, hyung, and if he makes you happy, you should go for it.” The words tasted like poison, didn’t quite fit right in his mouth, but he pushed them out anyway. For Jimin.
The older boy had smiled so wide, hugged Jeongguk tightly and told him how much he appreciated him, how much he loved him. Then he was off to see the man who had won his heart, leaving Jeongguk behind with his in pieces.
He cried the first star then. The first one had shocked him, the star pushing its way out of his eye, not caring how much it hurt Jeongguk in the process, just wanting to be seen by him. He had picked up the star that had fallen into his lap, holding it close to his face, eyes wide and trying to figure out what it meant. The silver thing mocked him as it glittered in his hands, shouting answers that Jeongguk didn’t want to hear.
But the star in between his shaky fingers was all he needed for everything to become clear. It had hit him then, that the unidentifiable feeling he had when around Jimin was love. Jeongguk was in love with Jimin, and Jimin didn’t love him back.
The stars that followed the realization were equally as painful as the first, making him cry harder. By the time he had finally calmed down, his eyes ached and his vision was burred slightly. He had cried again later that day when Jimin called to tell him that he had said yes, and that he was glad Jeongguk pushed him to. His vision had blurred more after that, and he decided then he wouldn’t be in love with Jimin anymore, or at the very least, not think about how in love with him he was.
But yet here he was, doing exactly that, as he had done a thousand times before. Jeongguk took another sip of his drink. He’d never been able to hold his liquor very well—he was only one glass in and his head was already starting to feel light and airy. But it was a feeling he was used to; when Jimin would flash him a smile, he’d feel like he was flying.
The stars as a symbol of his heartbreak was fitting, he thought. Jimin had always told him he had stars in his eyes. Which was true he supposed. Jimin was his star, one that shined so brightly and lit up his darkest nights. Jeongguk’s eyes always shined the brightest when he was with him. His shining star, his universe.
Jeongguk felt the familiar pain in his eyes again, and watched a twinkling star fall into his lap. The thought of someone else being the cause of Jimin’s breathtaking smile, someone else getting to bask in his radiant glow as much as they liked made his heart ache, and soon more stars fell.
Jeongguk always felt conflicted about how pretty the stars were. It was cruel in a way, to make his pain beautiful, something pleasant to see. Though, the tears were for Jimin, and he supposed anything related to the other boy had to be as beautiful as him. So he guessed he didn’t mind, he’d keep crying them if he must. He’d do anything for Jimin.
His vision was fading fast because of the stars. They damaged his eyes more and more with each one. He could only make out shapes and light, and small details of things up close now. It probably wasn’t long before he went completely blind.
With a shaky breath, Jeongguk set down his glass and gathered the stars that had fallen into his lap. He brought them to his bedroom and placed them inside a jar that was already filled to the brim with the same glistening grief.
Jeongguk believed in wishing on stars, believed if you wanted something badly enough, wished hard enough, it would eventually come true. Which is why he kept the stars he cried, filled four jars with them, and wished on every one of them every night. He wished that Jimin would realize he loved Jeongguk, really loved him, and would come running into his arms.
But it had been nearly two months. Two months of wishing. Two months of his vision worsening. Two months of pain of all kinds. Two months of Jimin growing happier and happier with the man he loved.
Jeongguk knew his wishes weren’t coming true.
With a pained scream, Jeongguk shoved the jars off his desk. They smashed against the opposite wall, glass shattering like his heart had when Jimin told him about the man he loved. His chest squeezed, tightening around his lungs, and Jeongguk could only gasp for air as he sunk to his knees, stars tearing away at his eyes.
Jeongguk felt foolish for wishing, for hoping, for believing. Wishing gets no one anywhere. Things get done with action. If Jeongguk wanted Jimin to love him, he had to do something about it. So despite the way his lungs feel heavy, filled with liquid yearning and desire, he pushed himself up off the floor and ran out the house.
He needed to see Jimin, tell him he loved him and convince him that he was the one he was meant to be with. Jimin didn’t live that close, and it was getting dark out, but Jeongguk ran aways, the world a blur of colors whizzing past.
He rang the buzzer to Jimin’s apartment when he finally arrived, panting at his door. His whole body buzzed as he waited, desperate to see the other man and determined to make Jimin his.
“Jeongguk-ah?” Jimin’s voice said over the intercom before the door opened. “What are you doing here?” Jeongguk quickly lunged at the older boy, cupping his cheeks in his hands and bringing his face close. He could see him this way.
He could see Jimin, and all his soft features. The slope of his nose, the curve of his lips, the silky strands of hair that fell beautifully into his eyes. Jimin was beautiful, inside and out, radiating kindness and love.
Jimin was the most beautiful treasure, and Jeongguk couldn’t bring himself to take him from someone else.
“Hyung-ah.” Jeongguk pushed away the selfishness he had come with. “Please smile for me. Won’t you smile for me? I want to see it one last time.”
“What-”
“Who’s at the door, baby?” Jeongguk heard a deep voice call from inside. Jimin moved to look back at the other man, but Jeongguk turned his head back to face him.
“Please hyung-ah. Just one smile. Please I-” Jeongguk began to cry again, stars cutting their way through, no matter how hard he tried to hold them back. He heard a faint gasp.
“Jeongguk-ah… you-” Jimin placed a hand on his cheek, and Jeongguk melted into the touch. He placed his own hand over Jimin’s and closed his eyes.
“I love you, hyung.” He opened his eyes again, taking in Jimin’s beautiful face for what was likely the last time. “I love you so much and I-” Jeongguk’s words cut off as swirls of grey began to cloud his vision. Desperate and afraid, Jeongguk blinked a star into his hands and pressed it into Jimin’s. “Take it,” he whispered. “They’re for you. So take them all.”
“Jeongguk-ah…” Jimin’s voice was so soft, so sad. “I don’t know what to say…” Jeongguk shook his head.
“Don’t say anything. Just let me look at you. One last time.” Jimin nodded, wide eyes looking at him with so much sorrow. “Don’t be sad, hyung. Please smile. I want it to be the last thing I see.” Jimin nodded again, this time forcing his lips into a shaky smile. Jeongguk let out a shaky sigh, dreamy and content.
He closed his eyes, and even though he knew when he opened them again he wouldn’t be able to see, he was happy. Jimin’s warmth was close and his smile was on his mind, and all of it made Jeongguk feel safe, loved. Jeongguk felt loved by Jimin, if just for a moment, and that’s all Jeongguk could have asked for.