Chapter Text
Jimin moves to the countryside at the age of 8. He was used to the tall skyscrapers, the never-ending beeping of cars and the busy crowds of the city. Here, it is all grassy fields, quiet sunsets and the laughter of children. It is here that he meets a little kid by the name of Jeon Jungkook.
The tiny 6-year-old boy is hiding behind his mother’s legs, his baby fingers gripping the blue fabric of the dress that she is wearing. His hair is longer than Jimin’s, just long enough to slightly cover his eyes, stopping right above his eyelashes. His mother uses a hand to gently push the hair out of his eyes and the moment it’s out of the way, Jimin stares. His eyes are round and doe-like, wide open as he stares back at Jimin, and he feels an urge to protect him.
“Say hello, Jungkook. This is Jimin hyung. They moved in next door.” Jungkook’s mother tries to nudge her child to stand in front of her and the boy only mutters an almost inaudible hello , but no hyung , before shoving his face into her thigh again. “Sorry, he’s a shy boy.”
“Come on, say hi to Jungkookie,” Jimin’s mother says to him. Her Seoul accent is a strong contrast against the satoori that the Jeon family is speaking with.
“Hi, Jungkookie, I’m Jimin. Call me hyung.” He smiles as brightly as he can, the sunny one that has never failed to charm all the adults and his friends back home. He sticks out the ddeok in his hands, offering it to the kid as a moving-in gift. Jimin has never moved before, but his mother told him it was tradition. Jungkook shows a bit of interest, his posture straightening up, and he takes one step towards the elder.
“Jimin,” the little boy mutters and bows slightly in gratitude, but the boy being addressed frowns. He is at least half a head taller than him, he’s clearly his hyung!
“It’s Jimin hyung ,” the 8-year-old retorts, moving the plate of ddeok away from the smaller kid just before his fingers grip onto it.
“Jimin.” The younger boy finally removes his hands from his mother’s dress. Before Jimin has the chance to respond, Jungkook quickly moves in front of him and snatches the plate from him. The doe-eyed boy clutches it against his chest, looking down at it like it’s the most precious thing he has ever seen in his 6 years of life.
Jimin is normally known to be very generous and kind, especially to kids younger than him. It’s something that his mother likes to brag about a lot. However, at this moment, he can’t help but feel irritated. He doesn’t get annoyed or angry very often, and he wouldn’t be irritated right now if only Jungkook didn’t snatch the ddeok out of his hands after not calling him hyung.
“Eomma, he didn’t call me hyung!” He cries out, a whine making its way out of his throat. He stomps childishly, looking up at his mother with angry tears threatening to spill from his eyes. Jimin doesn’t easily get upset, let alone cry, but something about Jungkook makes him want to. Maybe it’s something about how he had wanted to take him in under his care and protect him as soon as he saw his eyes, but the younger one wouldn't even call him hyung . Maybe he doesn’t want to be his friend!
“Sorry, he’s usually very polite,” Jungkook’s mother apologises on behalf of her child, squatting down to give Jimin a sheepish smile. “Thank you for the ddeok, Jiminie and Mrs Park.”
“It’s nothing,” Jimin’s mother replies with a kind smile, and the other woman sighs in relief. “It’s okay, Jimin, he’s just a little boy.”
He’s unhappy, so he pouts, but he bows to Jungkook’s mother anyway, and walks away back to his new home without saying bye to the kid.
He doesn’t see him until a week later when he officially has his first day at his new school. This part of town is safer than it ever will be in the bustling city, safe enough that there are dozens of kids his age all walking to the local school in the morning. It’s only a 15 minutes walk away, and with a cheap phone in his pocket, Jimin is sent to school on his own on Monday.
When his mother told him he could walk to school on his own, he thought he could walk, you know, alone . Except he is totally wrong because the little kid called Jeon Jungkook next door is standing in front of him. His eyes are cast down onto his shoes, the hem of his grey trousers touching them slightly. The uniform looks a size too big on him, but it somehow makes him look cute in Jimin’s eyes instead of stupid.
“Jungkookie, you can start walking with Jimin hyung from today. You like walking to school, don’t you?” The doe-eyed boy’s mother sends a friendly smile in his direction, and in return, Jimin bows in greeting. Jungkook only nods, eyes still fixed on his feet. “Jimin hyung has a phone, so if you need to talk to Eomma, you can politely ask him to call me for you, okay?”
Jungkook looks up and makes eye contact with Jimin instantly. He has a frown on his eyebrows. “Okay.” It’s all he says before they start moving, both of their mothers waving them goodbye from behind.
“Hey, Jungkookie, you’re in first grade?” Jimin tries to make conversation with the younger, whose hands are holding onto the straps of his backpack tightly, just like how he was clutching onto his mother’s dress the first time.
“Yeah.”
“I’m in third grade! You should call me hyung.” Jimin beams at him, hoping his smile will persuade Jungkook that he just wants to be his friend.
“Oh.” Jungkook frowns. “Is that why you can walk to school by yourself?”
Jimin tilts his head in confusion and replies, “I guess so, yeah?”
Then Jungkook pouts, crossing his arms across his chest. “That’s not fair! Eomma said I can’t go alone! Why can you do it but I can’t?”
“That’s because I’m 2 years older, which is why you should call me hyung, by the way.” Jimin childishly sticks out two chubby fingers in the younger boy’s face. It only makes him angrier, his face turning a faint red.
“ Hyung ,” Jungkook says with as much venom a 6-year-old can speak with, “I don’t want to go to school with you anymore.” Without bothering to wait for Jimin’s response, he quickly walks away from him in the direction of their school.
“What are you getting pouty for? I’m not even walking alone,” Jimin tells him when he catches up, his legs a little longer than the younger, “I’m walking with you, aren’t I?”
Jungkook ignores him and continues to stomp his way to school.
“Geez, you’re such a kid.”
It turns out that Jungkook is very good at holding grudges. When he walks to school with Jimin, he glares at him the entire journey. When he sees him in the playground, he runs the other way. When Jimin goes over to his house, he takes away the toys he’s playing with.
“What’s wrong with you?!” Jimin finally shouts at him when Jungkook snatches the car toy from his hands for the nth time, angry tears ready to spill over.
“It’s my toy! I can take it back if I want to!” Jungkook shouts.
The older boy’s lips tremble and for a second, Jungkook almost seems guilty. He’s looking at Jimin with wide eyes, shifting between his hyung’s watery eyes and the toy he took away from him. It didn’t matter anyway because, at this moment, Jimin has made a decision.
“You’re so annoying! I hate you!” Jimin yells in return, grabbing the pillow off Jungkook’s bed and throwing it at the small boy. The throw is weak and slightly off target, but it still causes Jungkook to stumble a little before falling on his bed. Being the brat he is, he starts wailing. It does nothing but trigger Jimin to start crying too.
When their mothers come to see what is causing such a ruckus, they see their sons competing who can cry louder than the other one like they are auditioning to star in a tragedy play.
“Eomma! Jimin hyung said I’m annoying,” Jungkook screams, hiccups interrupting his words every two seconds. “He said he hated me!” His eyes are red from crying, cheeks so wet with tears it looks like he went swimming, and snot is dripping out of his also red button nose. Jimin thinks he looks hilarious and he would’ve laughed at him if he weren’t also bawling his eyes out.
Jimin points an accusing finger at him. “He didn’t let me play with any of his toys!” He defended himself, wiping his tears with the palms of his hands so he could see his mother more clearly.
“Well, he threw a pillow at me!”
“It didn’t even hurt! You fell onto the bed!”
“It did hurt!”
“No, it didn’t!”
“ You weren’t the one who got hit! How would you know? It hurt!”
A month is spent adjusting to school in the countryside, making new friends and bickering with the kid next door. Before Jimin even realises, August turns into September and Jungkook turns 7.
“Pinch, punch, first day of the month!” Jimin pinches and punches Jungkook’s arm as soon as the birthday boy steps out of his front yard. It leaves a reddening patch on his skin in its wake. “No return!” He doesn’t forget to say. A proud, smug smile is plastered on his face.
“Ouch,” Jungkook hisses, rubbing his arm in an attempt to soothe the pain. “You’re so childish, hyung.” The boy rolls his eyes at him and they begin their everyday journey to school. It’s the route they’ve been walking for the past month, but now as autumn is approaching, the leaves are turning into pretty shades of red and orange.
“Says you! You didn’t even invite me to your birthday party.” Jimin punches Jungkook’s arm again out of spite. He purposely aims for the same spot as before to maximise the effect. “Your mother had to invite me herself.”
“Yeah, because I didn’t want you there.” Jungkook frowns and punches Jimin back twice in return. Despite turning a year older, he seems to be still as weak as before because it didn’t hurt at all. Jimin grins at that thought. Ha! He’s still his hyung, after all.
“I didn’t want to go anyway,” he huffs in reply, “but my parents are out tonight and I have to stay at your place.” His expression mirrors the smaller boy’s distaste. He doesn’t want to go to his house either.
“I hope all my friends hate you,” Jungkook grumbles.
“That’s impossible! Everyone likes me except you.” Jimin props both his hands on his hips with pride in his voice. “You just have bad taste in friends.”
“No, you’re just annoying and boring!”
“Just you see.”
And Jungkook does see.
By the end of the night, all his friends are enamoured by Jimin. Whenever he tries to pull them away from him, they always find a way to include him in their game. Jimin laughs at him every time he sees Jungkook sulking with his cheeks puffed out.
“I told you so,” Jimin proudly declares when the party has ended and all of the now 7-year-old’s friends have gone home. “Now say: sorry, hyung, for being a brat.”
“Shut up!” He glares at Jimin but the red tips of his ears fail him. In Jimin’s eyes, he looks nowhere close to being intimidating, just embarrassed.
“You’re welcome! Happy birthday, Jungkookie,” he replies, “but it’s 8 pm and we have school tomorrow. You should go to bed now.”
“Me?” Jungkook frowns like it’s the only facial expression he is capable of making. He’s almost always frowning in front of Jimin. “What about you?”
“I’m going to continue playing that game on my phone.” He sticks a tongue out at the younger one to make fun of him. “Your mother said I can.”
“How come you can stay up late? That’s not fair!” The younger boy whines.
“I’m your hyung so of course, I can!”
“I’m 7 now! You’re 8! We’re basically the same age!”
“No, I’m 8 years and 11 months old. I’m turning 9 next month. That means I’m your hyung by a lot.”
“You make no sense.”
“ You’re making no sense.”
Jungkook stomps off into his room and slams his door shut. It’s only 3 seconds later when he hears a loud scream coming from that same room. Jimin only laughs as loud as he can, knowing that he can hear him.
Jimin gets a shiny, red bike for his 13th birthday. It means that when he goes to school with Jungkook now, the younger is always trying to catch up to him on his baby scooter. The elder doesn’t slow down for him at all, too pleased with the way the other groans in frustration whenever he pedals faster.
“You’re so annoying! I know you purposely pedal faster when I speed up!” Jungkook complains when they arrive at school. He snatches the bike lock out of Jimin’s hands and petulantly dumps it onto the ground.
“No comment,” Jimin replies with a smug smile on his face, contrasting his nonchalant words. He bends down to pick the lock up before looking down at the younger, taller than him now that Jimin’s going through his growth spurt.
“Ugh, I’m not going to school with you anymore.” The younger attempts to kick Jimin’s shin but the elder had already predicted it and he dodges the attack with great finesse. It only makes Jungkook scowl even harder.
It’s Jimin’s first year in middle school and he no longer attends the same school as the younger boy. However, the local schools — elementary, middle and high school — are all right next to each other. It means that as much as they both hate it, they both have to go to school together, seeing as how they’re neighbours and all.
“Funny. That’s what you said 5 years ago. But here you still are,” he teases, knowing goddamn well that the only reason is that their mothers are convinced they are best friends.
“Oh my god. Shut. Up.” Jungkook rolls his eyes.
“Why? Too embarrassed to admit you’re hyung’s copycat? Just want to follow me around like a lost puppy?”
Jimin gets a harsh slap on his back. He slaps him back twice as hard.
At age 17, Jimin has his first kiss with a sunbae in the year above. It’s nothing like what he expected, nothing like those rom-com dramas he used to watch with his mother. In those dramas, there is always a handsome male lead and a pretty female lead.
Jimin has his first kiss with a boy .
It shatters the world he has come to know and everything he thought he knew about himself.
“You okay?” The sunbae asks in a deep voice and gives his lips a quick swipe of the tongue. His hands are still on his shoulders, his grip so tight that his fingers are digging into him. It’s almost like the sunbae is afraid he will run away.
Jimin gives a stiff nod. He is staring straight into the other’s eyes out of shock more than anything. He hadn’t expected that kiss. When the other boy had asked him to meet him at the back of the school, he was honestly expecting to be beaten up more than anything. It was why he had hastily texted Jungkook, who he is supposed to be going home with, of his whereabouts. The last thing on his mind was getting a confession, never mind a kiss .
Jimin doesn’t even know his name. He glances at the name tag on his sweater vest. Kim Dohyuk, it reads. It doesn’t matter.
“Why did you do that?” He asks.
“I told you, I like you,” Dohyuk explains with a slightly annoyed tone in his voice. But that doesn’t make sense. He likes him, so Jimin must’ve been just imagining it.
“U-uh, Dohyuk sunbaenim, I-I don’t know if I like boys,” Jimin stutters out in his gentlest voice, not wanting to hurt the older boy, “I-I don’t even know you.”
“About that,” the sunbae licks his lips again, “you can experiment with me, and you can always get to know me. No one has to know. We can stay a secret.”
Before Jimin can even refute, he has a chest pressed flush against him. It’s not exactly pleasant; he feels more claustrophobic than anything. The tongue licking at his lips is enough to distract him from everything else though. He relaxes in the boy’s tight grip. Jimin opens his mouth just enough for the tongue to enter, and while he doesn’t think he likes Dohyuk, the kiss feels good .
Jimin pushes Dohyuk away with a hard shove. He raises a hand to touch his lips like those drama characters. It’s a quiet voice when he says, “okay, but I’m afraid I don’t have feelings for you, sunbaenim.”
It’s only after those words when he averts his eyes that he sees Jungkook around the corner, hidden by the shade from the tree. The 14-year-old boy is looking at him with wide eyes. Jimin purses his lips, and Jungkook looks away to put his eyes on Dohyuk instead.
“Do… do you like boys?” Jungkook asks Jimin when they are biking home together as usual. Instead of trying to outspeed each other, they’re riding side by side, something that’s probably as rare as finding a diamond on the street. He is still staring at Jimin, and after what he knows the younger boy witnessed, he flushes red in his attention.
“Why is it any of your business?” Jimin clicks his tongue and expects the other to retort back with sass. None of that happens. Nothing seems to be going as Jimin expected today.
“Do you, hyung?” Jungkook presses the question, not even a hint of a smile or amusement on his face. The lack of sarcasm as he calls him hyung catches Jimin off-guard. Despite the way he is questioning him, Jimin doesn’t feel forced or pressured when he answers. Deep down, he thinks he trusts Jungkook more than he lets on, more than he wants to admit.
“I-I don’t know. ” He sets his eyes on the sky, the sunset painting the sky a rich orange. “I haven’t thought about it before, but… I think I might….”
Jungkook doesn’t respond to that with anything else but hum in acknowledgement. It makes Jimin feel better in a way, like him maybe liking boys is not a big deal, like it’s normal. It’s the first time he has really shared his feelings other than distaste or anger with Jungkook, and even though he doesn’t exactly put a label on his somewhat newfound sexuality, he feels lighter already.
“Is he Kim Dohyuk?” He questions him instead. Jimin notes the missing honorific after the name.
“Yeah,” he breathes out.
When the older boy turns his head back to Jungkook, a scowl has overtaken his face. “I was hoping you wouldn’t say yes,” he mutters, and Jimin’s heart drops. “You should stay away from him.”
Maybe he was wrong to trust Jungkook after all.
At age 18, Jimin makes a confession to his parents with watery eyes. It was a slip of the tongue and completely unplanned. His hands are shaking; his throat is drying up; his back is drenched with cold sweat. Before the tears can even fall past his waterline, he’s wrapped in a tight embrace by both his mother and father.
“It’s okay, Jiminie, we love you no matter what,” they tell him. “Don’t you ever forget or doubt that.”
The warmth he felt in his heart that day is something he can never forget.
It’s also the age that he experiences his first heartbreak.
Jimin wasn’t expecting to develop feelings for Dohyuk. He was rather crude at times, a little too aggressive and his too-tight grip elicited pain more often than not. However, over time, it was as if Jimin had softened his rough edges. The sunbae was less harsh with his touches, his kisses a little sweeter and he handled him with more care. Despite having graduated high school, he still visited him every time he came back home from university. And so, over time, he felt his heart beat faster when Dohyuk held him closer, more jealous when he saw unfamiliar girls in his arms on social media, and he wanted him to hold him outside of the bedroom. He didn’t want to be a secret.
“Let’s end this. I don’t like you anymore,” he huffs, pushing Jimin away when he tries to cuddle up to him during their movie date. Despite the blankets that engulf him, he still feels cold. Next to him is Dohyuk, who is already standing and putting his jacket back on. The difference between him and Jimin’s flimsy sleepwear makes him feel even more exposed and vulnerable than usual, and he quickly grabs the blanket and pulls them up to his chin.
“W-what do you mean?” Jimin stutters, a dull ache starting in his heart. He can’t stop the hurt from displaying on his face.
“You’re not attractive anymore,” Dohyuk sighs exasperatedly and goes to the mirror to fix his hair. “You don’t even try. Look at you. I told you I was coming over. Couldn’t you have at least gotten changed or put on some makeup? Too clingy, too.” Not once since he stood up has he spared a glance at Jimin. The older man makes his way to the door, ready to leave. Like always.
Suddenly, anger boils in Jimin’s blood, a flame that is very rapidly turning into a bonfire. His body is starting to bloom with red, but not with shyness or love; it is wrath.
Jimin makes a quick move to stand up too, matching Dohyuk’s height. Then he makes one, two, three heavy strides until he’s right in front of Dohyuk again before he can leave. He knees the older man in-between the legs with every single ounce of strength he can muster.
“Fuck!” Dohyuk shouts and promptly falls onto the floor with his hands between his legs. Jimin looks down at him with his arms crossed. “You son of a bitch!”
“You talking about yourself here, Kim?” Jimin snickers.
Dohyuk stumbles as he stands up again, wincing. He raises a fist like he’s about to punch Jimin and give him the biggest black eye to ever exist. He doesn’t get a chance to as Jimin catches his wrist in time.
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” he says in a low voice, the warning clear, “I have a black belt in taekwondo, just to remind you.”
It isn’t a lie. The trophies and medals displayed in his room are a testament to that.
He sees Dohyuk’s jaw clench before he drops his fist.
“Just because I let you kiss me does not mean that I am weak.” Jimin releases his hold on him. “Just because I don’t dress up for you does not mean I am unattractive.” He pushes Dohyuk with a finger to his chest. “And just because I want intimacy does not mean that I need you.”
Jimin had been angry back then. But after a few hours and everything sunk in, the sadness, the hollowness, the pain, the heartbreak washed over him.
He’s staring blankly at the washing machine, the bedsheets inside spinning around faster and faster until Jimin can only see the metallic interior on the machine. His eyes are puffy and red-rimmed from the earlier breakdown he had, but now he was feeling so empty .
There’s a knock on the front door. “Jimin? Why’s the door open?”
He doesn’t answer the call of his name or the question, too exhausted to deal with the owner of the voice.
“Jimin? Hyung? Uh, my mother wanted me to bring over kimchi for your mother,” the voice calls for him again when he doesn’t hear a response, and increases in volume the closer he gets to Jimin. “Where are you? Oh-”
He knows that Jungkook is here now. He can see him in his peripheral vision, but he doesn’t pay him any attention. Instead, his eyes are still fixed on the washing machine.
“Is it Kim Dohyuk again?” Jungkook asks and all desperate prayers for him to not bring it up go to waste. Jimin can hear the hardness in his voice, and it makes him feel even worse.
When Jimin revealed his sexuality to him, the younger didn’t react so well. At first, Jimin thought that he might have just needed more time to process it. But then Jungkook started acting strangely. He stared at him with a scowl every time he found him staring at Dohyuk. Whenever he saw Dohyuk going over to his house, he would always avoid his eyes the morning after as if he was disgusted with him. In return, Jimin slowly started avoiding him too except for the unavoidable morning journey to school.
Jungkook is literally the last person he would want to see in this state.
But it doesn’t matter anymore. It never should’ve mattered. Jungkook’s opinion of him shouldn’t matter.
Jimin raises his head to look up at Jungkook, whose lips are pursed and his jaw clenched. The younger’s looking down at him with an unreadable expression, although it is clear he is not pleased. Unhappy with how Jungkook towers over him, Jimin stands up, gripping the kitchen counter to stabilise himself, only to be reminded that Jungkook has grown slightly taller than him now, despite being just 16.
He huffs, “leave the kimchi and go. I don’t have the energy to deal with you right now.”
“Is it?” Jungkook repeats. He watches the younger’s eyes harden when he doesn’t reply, the silence answering more than enough for him.
“Fine,” he mutters, rummaging through his backpack to fetch a packet of tissues. The next thing Jimin knows, he throws it right in his face. “I told you so.”
He hadn’t realised tears were dripping from his eyes again until now. Jimin catches the anger in Jungkook’s eyes just as he rushes out of his house.
The next morning Jungkook comes out of his house with a bruised jaw and a split lip. He sees Dohyuk later that week with a fading bruise on his jaw too and connects the dots together. Why , he wants to ask, why did you do it? But the elder doesn’t question him about it and continues to ignore him. He doesn’t need any more distractions.
He spends the next month devoting all his free time to studying for the suneung, gets a score high enough to get into his dream university, and prepares to move back into the city of Seoul.
By the time it’s March, he has forgotten all about Dohyuk and is ready to start a new chapter in his life.
“Hyung is going now,” he finally tells Jungkook on his last day in the countryside. Jungkook says nothing, only watches him go with wide doe eyes. Jimin looks back only once, unable to help himself. He doesn’t look back a second time.
They don’t speak again after he’s gone.
In his first year of university, he becomes friends with someone named Kim Taehyung. He is the same age as him, studying Fashion Design, and also his new roommate. With a strikingly handsome face, easygoing personality and a lot of charm and humour, it’s no surprise that he is the social butterfly of the two.
However, Jimin is quickly reminded that no one is perfect and that Kim Taehyung is actually human — he would’ve thought he was flawless otherwise — the longer he lives with him. He leaves his dishes everywhere, likes to randomly listen to jazz music at 4 am when he’s drunk and pulls the ‘ but you’re my hyung’ card whenever he wants something from a very broke Park Jimin. They’re only two months apart, mind you.
So yes, he’s messy, annoying and bratty. But he’s Kim Taehyung. The Kim Taehyung. Naturally, it is only right that Jimin grows fond of him.
(He also reminds him a lot of a particular Jeon Jungkook, even though he tries his hardest not to think about him.)
Jimin spends a lot of time with Taehyung, attached to the hip. Taehyung works the evening shifts at the campus café, and Jimin finds himself buying way too many cups of coffee that his bank account can’t afford. Whenever Taehyung is working, Jimin makes an effort to keep him in company at the café.
It doesn’t take long for Jimin to start crushing on Taehyung’s colleague even though he tried focusing on his studies. Taehyung says it’s because he has a big heart and too much love to not share with other people. Jimin thinks he just has low standards and is very easily impressed. In other words, he has shitty taste in men.
But the campus barista who works part-time and takes the morning shifts is nice. He smiles brighter whenever he sees Jimin and likes to give him an extra pump of vanilla syrup. (He doesn’t even like sweet things, never mind sweet coffee, but he’s too endeared to tell the cute barista otherwise.) He winks at him when he compliments him, even when he thinks he looks haggard from last-minute assignments, and he pats his head whenever Jimin blushes.
So once again, he makes his way to the 24/7 café at 10 am with his laptop, ready to finish writing his paper and maybe also to flirt with his crush.
“Good to see you again, Jimin!” Hyunwoo smiles prettily at him, looking up from the latte art he’s making when he pushes the door open.
“Hi,” Jimin replies with a bashful smile.
“Take a seat, I’ll make you your usual.” Hyunwoo hums happily as he turns his back to him towards the coffee beans. Jimin had wanted to finally tell him he wanted a simple americano, but he doesn’t have the heart to after hearing the cheerful melody.
When Hyunwoo reaches his table with his creamy vanilla latte, Jimin takes the opportunity to do something he’s been mentally preparing himself for all week. “U-uh, Hyunwoo hyung.” He stops him from leaving, two fingers gripping onto the barista’s apron. He cocks his head slightly in question, encouraging him to continue.
“Yes?”
“Do you want to… do you want to go fishing with me this weekend?” Jimin asks hesitantly, twiddling his fingers and refusing to look into Hyunwoo’s eyes. “I-I remembered that you said you liked fishing and I have a friend who’s been asking me to go with him, but I-I want to go…” He gulps and finally flicks his eyes up to look at the older man. “I want to go with you!”
There, he said it!
(He doesn’t have even an ounce of interest in fishing. He had gone once with his older cousin, Seokjin, and was so bored he fell asleep next to the water and his rod barely in his hands.)
He holds both his breath and the stare he’s sharing with Hyunwoo. It only makes it easier to see the discomfort creeping into the barista’s eyes. The happy mood earlier slowly fades away and the air between them grows awkward.
“Uh, Jimin, I-I’m not free next week,” Hyunwoo replies, ending his sentence with a forced cough. He looks away from him, eyes darting across the café nervously.
“I was talking about this weekend,” Jimin clarifies, but he knows he shouldn’t have. There’s no point anyway. He’s not a fool; he can see rejection when he sees it.
“O-oh, were you? Oh no, I have a, um, a really important meeting with my professor and I can’t miss it.”
Academic meetings on the weekend ? What a joke.
Jimin sighs. Hyunwoo laughs awkwardly.
“Maybe next time, cutie.” The barista winks at him again, his voice going back to its usual flirty tone, and everything goes back to the way it was before Jimin’s date invitation. Everything except Jimin.
This isn’t the first time. In fact, it’s Jimin’s third attempt at asking him out on a date. It’s also his third rejection. Every time, Hyunwoo would reject him with the world’s lamest excuses and go straight back to flirting with him.
It becomes even clearer that he’s being led on when he spots Hyunwoo kissing someone at the back of the café the following week. Missed you, honey , he hears, I’ll take you out tomorrow and give you the prettiest ring for our anniversary .
He thinks that his shitty taste in men is a massive understatement.
He proves that right once again when he starts dating a classmate in his second year. This time, it’s a buff guy from his Materials Science class. Jimin likes his muscles, his passionate kisses and the way he is not afraid of being with Jimin in public. But the thing is: the guy always grabs his wrist with too much strength, but never holds his hands; his kisses are always aggressive and full of teeth, but never gentle and loving; Jimin is always trailing behind him, but never beside him. It takes him longer than he should’ve to see all the red flags, but when he finally does, he cuts him off.
“Thank god,” Taehyung says once he tells him, and he fills Jimin’s glass with more soju, “he’s a piece of shit anyway.”
Jimin wholeheartedly agrees with him and downs the shot in one go.
“He was so nice in the beginning.” He pouts and downs another shot. “Maybe it’s fate’s way of telling me I should focus on my studies. I did barely pass my midterms.”
“Shut the fuck up, Jimin, you got an A instead of A+,” Taehyung deadpans. “Big deal.”
“Well then maybe it’s telling me that no one wants to wait for me to finish my military service,” he whines.
“ I’ll be waiting, you dumbass,” his best friend sighs and pulls him into a tight koala hug. Jimin’s face is squished against his chest. “Fuck those guys, anyway, they don’t define your worth.”
“I love you, Tae,” Jimin mumbles into his chest. “I’m only going to love you for the rest of my life. You’re the only one who loves me back.”
“Don’t be silly,” is all he hears Taehyung say before he falls asleep.
That night, he vows to focus on his studies and not useless men who treat him worse than gum on the street. No more.
As the only constant in Jimin’s life, Taehyung is the one who hugs him goodbye when he enlists in the military and also the one to shower him with affection and tears as soon as he is discharged almost two years later. And even after all that time, things fall back into place as if he never left.
Growing up, Jimin and Jungkook had completely different interests. Whereas Jimin was more into the sciences, Jungkook was more attracted to sports and the creative arts. It was why when Jimin enrolled at university for Civil Engineering, he had no doubts that he would never run into Jeon Jungkook again, even if they went to the same university.
Life must be biting him in the ass.
Jeon Jungkook, age 21, is standing half-fucking-naked in his apartment.
There is a second man in the apartment, but Jimin pays no mind to him at the moment, knowing all too well who it is just by the vibrant blue mop of hair.
The boy, no, man in front of him is not only half-fucking-naked , but he is also soaked from head to toe. A baby blue towel, a piece of fabric he’s been seeing every single day, is draped over his wet hair which is still dripping… onto his abs. Abs . Oh my god. Jeon Jungkook, the lankiest boy Jimin had ever known, has abs . His shoulders are broad, his waist tiny in comparison, and the contrast makes Jimin feel dizzy.
“What. The. Actual. Fuck,” Jimin blurts out without thinking, his brain failing to process the situation and what’s happening. He is stuck on the spot, hands frozen mid-air as he puts away his umbrella. It’s safe to say he is short-circuiting.
The dripping man jolts at the sound of his voice. Out of instinct, he grabs the towel on top of his head and uses it to cover his bare torso, but to no avail. The towel is just big enough to cover up his eight pack (not like Jimin counted) but does nothing to hide his chest. There’s a slight flush on his cheeks.
“I-Wha-This is not what it looks like!” Jungkook blinks at him. He presses the towel against his wet skin even more and it sticks to his skin, allowing the defined shape of his abs to show through again. It serves more as a distraction than anything else. The sight makes Jimin’s jaw drop, his eyes fighting against the urge to gawk at it.
“W-what does it look like?” Jimin finds himself asking, sounding more breathless than he would like.
This is not how he imagined they would meet again (if they ever did).
“I-I don’t know! But whatever you’re thinking, it’s not that!” He shouts, turning to the window to point at the heavy rain outside. “Look, it’s raining. Heavily! And I got drenched.”
Jimin really wishes he hadn’t done that, because he’s met with rippling back muscles. The sweatpants he’s sporting must be a little loose on him because as soon as he turns around, they slip down slightly to display the Calvin Klein waistband of his boxers. Inevitably, it draws Jimin’s attention to it and his V-line that’s peeking out.
“I...I can see that,” Jimin replies dumbly.
“Yeah, and I- uh, I was just drying myself off,” he continues to explain. The arm that’s not holding the sad excuse of a towel is raised to scratch the back of his neck. His biceps flex at the action. Jimin is 100% completely, absolutely, certainly, utterly, thoroughly convinced that Jungkook is doing it on purpose. (In fact, he is not. Jimin just has a strength kink the size of the universe.)
For fuck’s sake. Jeon Jungkook is a walking thirst trap.
“I see.” Jimin averts his eyes as soon as Jungkook turns back around.
“Yeah,” is all Jungkook says in response, his round eyes still fixed on Jimin’s. He doesn’t quite know how to respond to that, or what else to say in this situation, so he stays silent.
There is definitely some sort of thick tension in the air. He can feel Jungkook’s eyes boring into him, and his eyes slowly make their way back to Jungkook again. His eyes are still the same as how he remembers — doe-eyed, bright, magnetic — but somehow, they’re different at the same time. There’s something more mature in his gaze, something darker in the way he looks at him. And yet, there’s a touch of gentleness and something else he can’t quite pinpoint too. It’s something he has never seen in his eyes, and it makes Jimin flush like the other man did just a few minutes ago.
“Sorry to break the sexual tension, but here’s the shirt,” an all-too-familiar voice says. Jimin breaks their staring contest and finally puts his umbrella away in the umbrella stand, refusing to look at Jungkook. They both ignore what Taehyung, whose hair is also wet and a shade darker than its usual blue, said. They must have been in the rain together. How they know each other is beyond him.
“Oh, thanks,” he hears Jungkook mumble and then the ruffling of fabric. When he chances a glance back at him, his bare skin is already covered by white fabric, but the vivid memory of his clenching muscles has already burnt into his brain.
“You guys know each other?” Taehyung shifts his eyes between the two of them whilst using a towel to dry off his hair.
Jimin hums nonchalantly (he tries to, anyway) and makes his way past the men. He can still feel Jungkook’s eyes on him, but he ignores him and proceeds to go to the kitchen. Their apartment is unfortunately open-plan, and the kitchen is connected to the living room. It leaves Jimin nowhere to hide from Jungkook unless he locks himself in his bedroom.
“Yeah, you can say that,” he casually answers his roommate. “How do you guys know each other?” He puts down the heavy bags of food on the counter and starts to put them away.
“Oh, we work together! He’s a graphic design intern at the brand I design for. Oh, did you know that he goes to our uni?” Taehyung cheerfully informed him. He grabs a packet of snacks from Jimin’s hands before skipping over to the sofa in the living room area. He plops himself down and turns on a video game.
“Graphic design?” Jimin repeats, finally looking over to his childhood… frenemy? No, just his enemy.
“Yeah, I’m in my third year already,” the enemy speaks again, catching Jimin off guard, not expecting him to respond. “Funny, I’ve never seen you on campus.”
Jimin dusts off his hands before replying, “I took the last two years off to enlist in the military.”
He half-expects Jungkook to throw a tantrum straight away like he would have done five years ago whenever he did or got something before Jungkook could. He doesn’t though, only looks at Jimin with something akin to admiration, and it throws Jimin off-loop. A tantrum he knows how to deal with (when it comes to Jungkook) but this , whatever this is, he doesn’t know how to respond to.
See, the confusing thing is that Jimin is not exactly happy that Jungkook is here. He expects the younger man to feel the same, to give him that same old scowl. Yet, Jungkook is here, smiling softly at him with admiration in his eyes. What is he supposed to say?
“Jeon Jungkook! Come here, play with me,” his roommate saves him unknowingly, “and Jiminie, I hope you remember it’s your turn to cook dinner tonight.” Never mind, Taehyung is still the devil.
“Yeah, yeah…” Jimin waves him off, walking in the direction of his room. “I’m just gonna get changed first.”
When he has changed into his usual loungewear — just an oversized pastel hoodie and leggings — he goes straight to the kitchen again, ignoring Taehyung’s shouting in the background. Humming a song under his breath, he takes out the ingredients for kimchi jjigae and egg rolls. Kimchi jjigae is easy to cook and easily takes a place in his Top 5 Comfort Foods.
“Jungkook’s staying here for the night!” Taehyung shouts at him amongst the curses he’s yelling, aimed at the TV screen when he discovers he’s losing. Jimin hums in acknowledgement in response, although he is internally panicking, and he makes a mental note to cook for three instead of the usual two.
He moves around the space with ease, something that Taehyung definitely doesn’t do. Taehyung prefers to order takeout whenever it’s his turn to cook, which isn’t even that frequent. (Jimin gets too scared watching his roommate fumble around with sharp tools everywhere and the stove raging on.)
“Onions… and eggs…” he lists them out to himself as he takes the food out of the fridge, placing them in front of him on the counter, “and of course, kimchi!”
“Need any help?” There’s a quiet voice in his ear.
Jimin jolts, jumping at least half a metre in the air, and places both hands on his chest, his heart pumping wildly from the jumpscare. “Oh my god, give a guy a warning,” he breathes out and turns around to see Jungkook shooting a mischievous smile at him. Oh, he definitely did that on purpose. Still a brat. The muscles can’t hide that.
“Weren’t you playing a game with Tae?” He asks, going back to his task and turning his back to him. He grabs the onions and begins to peel off the skin.
“Yeah, but I wanted to help you instead,” Jungkook answers, sending Jimin into a state of confusion.
Who is this? Is this really the Jeon Jungkook he knew? Jimin would have never recognised him if not for his doe eyes. He almost seems like a stranger now. He supposes years can do that to people.
“Well, if your cooking skills still suck as much as they do, then I’d rather do everything by myself,” Jimin chuckles at the memories of them cooking in the kitchen, forced together by their mothers.
“I’ve improved!” Jungkook beams, taking the peeled onion out of Jimin’s hands. He grabs the knife and goes to the chopping board that Jimin has taken out. “You want ‘em sliced or diced?”
“Diced, please,” Jimin says simply, watching Jungkook’s movement with curious eyes. He is pleasantly surprised when Jungkook cuts the onion with ease at a decent pace, a huge improvement from 16-year-old Jungkook. It’s not perfect, the chunks sometimes a little uneven, but it’s good enough for two college kids (and a fresh grad). “You’ve improved.” Jimin nods in approval and unconsciously lets out a small smile.
Jungkook leans in when he’s done until their eyes are on the same level, excitement dancing in his eyes. “Right?”
Startled by the sudden proximity, Jimin takes a step back, only for Jungkook to lean in closer again, the corners of his lips twitching like he’s fighting a smile. Is he… laughing at him?
“W-what are you doing?”
“Cooking. What else?”
Brat .
“You’ve cut one onion, Jungkook.” Jimin moves away and grabs a pot for the stew. “And you’re going to cut yourself if you don’t pay attention.”
“I am paying attention,” Jungkook chuckles, making Jimin look at him again, “to you.”
And he is. The younger is no longer holding the knife between his fingers, and he has shifted his entire body to face Jimin, eyes glued to his face.
“Shut up,” Jimin blurts out, flustered, red spreading on his cheeks once again. He seems to be doing that a lot around him. That’s new. “Shut up and cut the kimchi. Stop looking at me.” With a huff, he turns his back to the younger.
He expects the conversation to end, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to share his thoughts. “Why? I like looking at you. You can look at me too.” Jimin can hear the mirth in his voice.
“You’re gonna end up cutting your fingers off, and I won’t be accompanying you to the A&E, so please cut the kimchi and zip your mouth,” Jimin ignores Jungkook’s blatant flirting.
He has no idea how the shy and annoying neighbour he knew turned into this . Why is he even flirting with him? He thought they hated each other. What happened?
When the kimchi jjigae is ready and the table is set, the three men sit around the table to begin eating. As always, Taehyung dives straight into the food, making sounds of satisfaction with each spoonful. Jungkook, on the other hand, waits for Jimin to start eating first, watching his reaction. A smile sits prettily on his lips.
“What are you doing?” Jimin raises an eyebrow at him. “The food is going to get cold. Hurry up and eat.”
“It’s boiling hot and fresh off the stove, hyung,” Jungkook chuckles. Right at that moment, Taehyung screams and sticks his tongue out, whining about burning his tongue. “Told you so,” Jungkook teases, and Jimin rolls his eyes at him.
“Eat,” Jimin orders with a roll of his eyes.
Jungkook nods and listens. He lifts his spoon up to take a sip of the stew, and Jimin finds himself feeling nervous to see his reaction for some reason. It turns out to be unnecessary when Jungkook’s eyes widen in surprise like the way they always did when he ate something he liked when he was younger.
“Woah, this is so good!” Jungkook quickly takes another spoonful. “Kinda tastes like your mother’s recipe.”
Jimin ignores the questioning look in Taehyung’s eyes when he answers.
“That’s because I used her recipe.”
“Hmm,” Jungkook hums but doesn’t say anything else. When Jimin looks up from the food, he sees Jungkook looking at him with a meaningful smile, but he doesn’t really know what it means.
“Here, egg rolls.” Jungkook picks them up and puts them in Jimin’s bowl. It makes Jimin raise an eyebrow at him. The memory of Jungkook refusing to share his toys with him flashes in his mind. “Eat,” Jungkook is the one ordering him this time around.
“Why?” Jimin asks with a playful tone. “Did you secretly poison this when I wasn’t looking?”
Jungkook laughs loud and bright, “If that were the case, Taehyung hyung would be dead already. He shoved at least 5 of them into his mouth.”
That makes Taehyung pause, the egg roll midway into his mouth. “You didn't, right?”
Jungkook shrugs. “Who knows?”
That makes Jimin laugh. “Brat.”
And for some reason, that word makes Jungkook’s crinkled eyes shine and twinkle, looking at Jimin with a grin stretched widely on his lips.
“You… you’re not interested in Taehyung or anything, are you?” Jimin asks the not-stranger in his kitchen in the morning after Taehyung has gone to work. The two of them are alone in the apartment, and both of them are in the kitchen for breakfast.
Jungkook has messy bed hair, a coffee stain on his hoodie, and he has his eyes half-open as he scoops cereal into his mouth. Despite all of that, he somehow manages to still look attractive. It makes Jimin kind of mad.
“What?” Jungkook has his jaw dropped open, shock making the sleepiness go away instantly.
“Like…do you wanna date him? Like boyfriends?”
It’s the only way he can justify Jungkook’s behaviour last night. He spent his time in bed coming up with countless theories, and this one makes the most sense.
Listen. Hear him out. Jungkook never liked him much when they were growing up together, and neither did Jimin. He suddenly appears out of nowhere and acts all friendly with him, which Jimin must have mistaken as flirting last night, and it makes no sense. The only logical explanation is that Jungkook likes Taehyung and wanted to get on Jimin’s good side, Jimin being his best friend and all.
Yes. That makes sense.
“No!” Jungkook shouts, a horrified expression on his face.
Or maybe not.
Jungkook drops the spoon back into the bowl. It makes milk splash all over the kitchen counter and a little on his already stained hoodie, but both of them are too shocked to care.
“N-no?”
“No!” Jungkook repeats, slamming both hands flat onto the counter. The sound makes Jimin jump in surprise. “Of course not! What made you think that?”
Jimin adverts his eyes, feeling a bit stupid now that his theory has been disproved. “Uh…” he tries to stall. “Well, I just thought that it was weird that you were so nice to me last night.”
Jungkook has a frown on his face. He has pushed his bowl of cereal away, standing opposite Jimin now, and he leans in to pay attention to what he is saying.
“Weird?” The younger man tilts his head, asking Jimin to clarify. “What do you mean, hyung?”
“I guess I’m just not used to you being so nice to me….” Jimin anxiously pulls the sleeves of his sweater down to cover his hands, creating sweater paws. He fidgets and plays with his fingers in an attempt to take his mind off the embarrassment. The way Jungkook is giving him his undivided attention makes him nervous. He’s not used to that.
Jungkook’s large hand covers his, halting his fidgeting. The elder takes a moment to admire the way his hands engulf his own.
“Hyung… I never meant to hurt you.” Jimin chances a glance at him. “I was being a dumb teenager. I’ve never hated you, hyung, not at all.” His lips are pulled down into a slight pout, and he looks so sincere in his words that Jimin’s heart skips a beat.
Oh no.
Maybe Jimin is the one with a crush.