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One.
Jimin loves his flat.
It has great lighting, and there’s a garden outside his windows, and the living room is large enough that he can lay spread-eagle on the floor to stress-out about life’s most pressing difficulties - usually something about uni classes, or that attractive barista at the coffee shop with loud laugh and big grin, or Jungkook’s peevish prying into his very uneventful dating life. When it happens, when it’s all too much, he drops everything and just lies there. Dumps his dance bag, coat, and shoes at the door and spreads out on the floor. All stretched limbs, and soft cheeks and belly flat against the cool wood, and the comfortable silence of the quiet flat. He loves it.
Then, he moves in. He passes him first in the hall, but he’s on his mobile and looks distracted but still doesn’t bother to nod, or smile, or even glance at Jimin’s polite bow. He certainly doesn’t return it. The boxes are labelled Taehyung ; Jimin decides he’s an ass.
It takes Jimin exactly four Saturdays to figure out why.
It does not, in fact, take him that long to realise that this Taehyung guy is a terrible neighbour. He’s loud, always dropping things, or playing jazz? music at ungodly hours, or waking him up with some loud takeaway delivery conversation, and - worst of all - routinely sleeping through his alarm.
So, it’s Saturday, it’s 7:13 and Jimin is awake because of an alarm - mind you- not his alarm.
He’s tried to ignore it. Really, he has, but with every shrieking beep he can feel a little bit of his sanity chip away until he’s a tightly wound string ready to unravel. And it’s not like he hasn’t been patient because he has. The first Saturday he just groaned and amicably started his day a little earlier than usual. The second Saturday he gritted his teeth, turned on the telly to drown out the noise, and pulled his pillow over his head. The third Saturday he paced outside his door angrily, imagining a heated argument he would have with his new neighbour, this Taehyung. Now, the fourth Saturday Jimin is outside his door, knocking - angrily.
He’s gone over exactly what he wants to say in his head. He keeps changing parts of it, though, not sure if he should go for annoyed and intimidating or democratic - he figures he will settle on something in between the two. The sound of his knuckles wrapping on the wood is enough to fill the empty corridor, but it takes nearly thirty seconds before he even hears what sounds like movement from inside. Then there’s a slam and something clattering to the floor before the alarm abruptly stops, as if it’s been knocked to the floor in one clumsy swoop. There’s some heavy pats, fumbling with the lock, and then-
“Hello?” The guy rubs at his eyes groggily, his hair poofy, chaotic, and pulling away from his head in different spots. “Is everything alright?”
He’s shirtless, wrapped precariously in a fuzzy blanket with two fistfuls of fabric held to his chest. Jimin’s honestly not sure he’s wearing anything at all under the blanket, his eyes accidentally running down what he thinks is a pair of briefs, but then long, muscular legs, and bare feet. Thankfully, the guy is rubbing tiredly at his puffy eyes.
“I’m your neighbour, Park Jimin.” He tries to keep his voice even; he lets his body language do most of the talking - he’s been told he’s good at that. Jimin calls it expressive, Jungkook says something more akin to “sassy as fuck.” Either way, he’s got his eyebrows raised, hands crossed over his chest, lips in a tight, irritated line. “Your alarm doesn’t seem to be working for you. It has, however, woken me up - again .”
Taehyung finally stops rubbing at his face and takes one look at Jimin before casually leaning against the door frame with a charming, boxy grin. He’s still all swollen from sleep, skin puffy and cheeks all flushed-like, but he’s devastatingly handsome, and Jimin can’t help but flush as Taehyung’s eyes boldly crawl up and down his body. It makes him instantly aware that, in his irritation, he hadn’t bothered to do much more than throw on his robe and slippers.
He reaches up to pat at his fluffy, untamed hair.
“Cute.” Taehyung grins, his gaze somewhat affectionate as he watches the smaller boy. “Must take you some time to warm up? Huh? Names Taehyung. Why don’t you come and we can-”
Jimin awkwardly coughs, not hearing the rest of his sentence as he distracts from the heat warming his face by tightening the belt of his robe indignantly. “You are a terrible neighbour.” Jimin cuts him off and finds out a hand to being ticking off a list with his fingers: “You’re too loud, you leave your takeaway to stink up the hall, you play your bloody trumpet at the worst times - and you’re not even that good at it - and you sleep through that alarm all the time .” Jimin realises by the end that he’s huffing a bit, his voice getting progressively more clipped and louder.
Taehyung, aside from a brief, offended correction of “It’s a saxophone,” is fairly unphased. Overall, his boxy grin only looks deeper, maybe his eyes have darkened slightly, but the smugness lacing his features lifts his whole face in the most irritating way. It’s like he’s fairly satisfied with the whole situation.
“I’m a heavy sleeper,” he shrugs, carelessly, as if that solves the problem and he’s so good looking that it probably works for him. Like normally people might just walk away pacified by his boyish grin and dark, charming eyes. However, Jimin’s not so smitten. He’s used to tall pretty boys with well conditioned hair, they are exactly his type, and he eats them for breakfast.
So, Jimin gets angrier the longer Taehyung unapologetically stands there, just observing him like he’s some mildly interesting telly.
Jimin huffs, blowing his cheeks out and rolling his eyes. Fine. He will break the silence.
“Yeah, well I’m not. I like a lie-in on the weekend and your alarm has ruined it ever since you moved in.” Taehyung doesn’t do anything aside from look even more smug, which seems impossible. So, Jimin, one with a healthy fear of the law, threatens him with the last resort he can think of: “I’m tempted to file a noise nuisance.”
Taehyung snorts, his shoulders broadening slightly as he stands up fully, no longer so casual in demeanour. “Please do. Really, it’s so early and you’re so cute, but you’re such a bossy thing -
“Excuse me, you’re the one -”
“Don’t interrupt -”
Jimin wants to pounce. He wants to tackle him and his curly head of hair to the ground. He might be bigger, but Jimin’s feisty, he’s sure he could take him down. Then he wants to smash that alarm clock into a billion tiny pieces. Jimin tells himself later that the only thing that stops him is the questionability of Taehyung wearing pants.
“I’m an artist. I keep strange hours. I play loud music. Do loud things. Can’t really help if I sleep heavy, right? You understand.” Jimin swallows a banshee-scream threatening to erupt from his throat because he very much does not understand this guy. As if Jimin cares about Taehyung's life or work? As if Jimin don’t have coursework and classes to attend? “Maybe you can sleep with music on, Jimin-ie? Something to help you destress? You’re so tense. Do you want to join me for tea?”
He tilts his jaw up slightly so the smug smirk on his face is matched with satisfied, slanted eyes as he looks down at Jimin- it’s infuriating.
“I don’t care if you’re fucking Rain,” Jimin bites, glaring up at him, “Figure out your stupid alarm or next time I’m calling in a nuisance.”
He storms the few steps down the corridor and angrily whips open his own door. Jimin looks back, feeling the burn of Taehyung's eyes as they follow his every movement.
“Don’t test me!” Jimin warns and his voice is dark, dangerous, threatening .
The laugh that follows makes Jimin’s skin crawl. “Why would I ever do that?” Taehyung chirps, his voice ringing with amused delight, and his door snaps shut quickly afterwards.
Jimin hates that he’s left standing there, feeling indignant and staring at his closed door. It should have been his closed door that Taehyung was staring at - the bastard. Jimin marches into his flat, opens YouTube on the telly and searches for the most obnoxious club mix to blast loudly on repeat until he hears Taehyung leave.
Two.
Jimin only runs into Taehyung twice after that morning. Once when he ignored him as he tried to chat Jimin up in the main lobby. Jimin had kept his nose high in the air, refusing to acknowledge his calls of “Small neighbour! Jiminie - yah!”
Promptly upon entering his flat, Jimin had dug out his thickest insoles to throw into his shoes.
Then, once more, Taehyung had shown up outside his door, knocking incessantly until Jimin had flung open the door to find him cheekily delivering a sopping wet pair of panties that Jimin had mistakenly left in the laundry. Jimin swiped them off the lone finger that he had them dangling on.
“Do you always wear lace, Jiminie? Or are these for a special occasion?”
Jimin had slammed the door after that. Unfortunately, the door wasn’t quite thick enough to block out his affronted call of “You’re welcome. ”
And, now, regrettably, marked Jimin’s fourth interaction with the insufferable man.
“Absolutely not,” Jimin blocks the doorway with his body. “I don’t even like you.”
Taehyung’s standing there - shirtless, again. His hair is just barely wet, a bit of soap residue dried in it, and a lone flannel in his hand.
“You don't have to like me, little neighbour. I just need your shower, not your ring finger.”
“Stop calling me that!"
“What? Little neighbor? That?”
Jimin seethes a tight lipped “Yes.”
Taehyung’s trying to rile Jimin up; it’s working. Still, Jimin doesn’t budge from his spot.
“Please, Jiminie, my hot water went out.”
Jimin shrugs his shoulders carelessly, “Freeze.”
“That’s real neighbourly of you.” Taehyung huffs and Jimin just plants his feet more firmly under his shoulders.
Jimin’s about to tell him to piss off, but then his big, oaf-ish hand is on Jimin’s shoulder and is pushing Jimin out of the way so that he can get by.
“Yah!” he yells, shocked, and quickly recovers to trail him down the hall. “You can’t just -”
“Are you going to point me in the right direction? Or should I just - ” he trails off, and Jimin’s staring at his broad shoulders as he walks down Jimin's entryway. He watches the back of Taehyung’s head turn as he looks around the living room. All of the sudden Jimin’s self-conscious about the goofy pictures of him and Jungkook, and his stack of plushies tucked onto the sofa, and even what he was watching on TV - The Heirs - Jimin really needs to stop watching reruns.
“Boyfriend?” Taehyung asks as he gives a dismissive glance at a framed picture before turning down a hall.
“What? No! Just a friend. Wait -” Jimin trips as he manages to wrap a hand around his bicep and pull him back when he swings open Jimin’s bedroom. He looks back at him with a suggestive smirk. “Yah!”
“Is tonight a special occasion, little neighbour?”
Jimin can feel himself blush slightly, remembering the black silk shirt, dress pants combo he had laid out on his bed hot from the iron. When he reaches around him to pull the door shut, he sees the black lace panties there too and inwardly groans.
The door shuts with a snap.
“It’s that way, you pervert.”
Taehyung lets out a laugh that’s more of a bark, but thankfully follows Jimin's direction. “Lucky lad - bet you look amazing in…black.”
He doesn’t bother shutting the door behind him, so as Jimin sits angrily on the sofa, terribly aware that Taehyung is showering just a few steps away. He turns The Heirs back on, trying to distract himself from his roaming thoughts. And it almost works, almost for a minute, but then Taehyung starts talking to him again - from the shower. Yelling out to complain about shampoo smells and the texture of Jimin’s rose body wash, and then most concerning - asking if there’s another shower pouffe or should he just use the one in there.
“Don’t you dare!”
“You’d not really know if I did, would you?”
“I’d know,” Jimin lies and makes a reminder on his mobile to throw the thing in the bin.
“Is that what it is then?” Taehyung yells above the pattering of water, “A date night?”
Jimin rolls his eyes, for his own benefit.
“Can’t you just focus on the shower? So you can leave?” Jimin asks, but answers him anyway when he doesn’t respond, “It’s not really even a date - not really . Just meeting up with a friend of a friend.”
Jungkook had insisted because he’s Jimin’s friend and he wants what is best for hyung. Jungkook thinks it’s unhealthy to spend the obsessive amount of time Jimin does on his coursework and dance at the neglect of his love life. Jimin thinks he will bother with love once he’s landed a well paying job. But he’s a sucker and Jungkook’s persistent.
“A blind date, then,” Taehyung confirms and Jimin listens as he drops a bottle to the floor.
“No , I said not a date -”
“Are you going to eat?”
“He’s cooking for me,” Jimins wanders to stand outside the bathroom door so he doesn’t have to yell so much.
“Pretentious,” Taehyung scoffs. “Some stuffy office worker, then? Or he’s in finance right? Somewhere in Gangnam, I bet. What a - Jiminie?”
Jimin shakes his head, ready to tell him off, but stops himself when he remembers that he’s actually not sure - he doesn’t know anything about the guy.
“I don’t know… His name was Joohyuk…or was it Minhyuk? Hyuk something, I think -“
“Sounds like an arse -”
“He might be okay,” Jimin defends half-heartedly. “He’s meant to be tall and a great tennis player - which I don’t really care about, but he’s got a proper job and…” Jimin trails off, realising that Taehyung’s sabotaging his date before it’s even started. “Why do you care, anyway? Not like you know him - or me, for that matter!”
“Jiminie -”
“Yah! Stop calling me that! You don’t even know me that well.”
“What! Of course I know you - we’re neighbours.”
Jimin rolls his eyes to keep from smirking.
He hears Taehyung turn the water off and then quickly pads back to plop down on the sofa, not wanting to be found standing right outside the door. Jimin’s grateful he was at least quick about it - in the shower. He seems the type to use up all the hot water just to be a bother.
Jimin hears the shower curtain pull back as he hollers out, “Going to get me a towel, or should I find it myself?” He throws his hands up, exasperated, because Taehyung’s really a piece of work. Jimin un-plops from the sofa to stomp off to the linen cabinet and grab the last remaining towel.
“I’m coming in,” Jimin warns, covering his eyes with one hand and blindly holds out the towel in the general direction of the shower. The humidity of the room hits like a wall, Jimin can feel the warm dampness on the tile of the floor beneath his feet.
Taehyung snorts. The tips of his moist fingers brushing along Jimin’s wrist as he grabs the towel. “Scared you’d like what you’d see?”
Jimin feels himself blush, but brushes it off, “I’m sure there’s not much to see.”
This time Taehyung laughs genuinely, and it’s the warmest sound Jimin’s heard escape from him. It’s not arrogant or irritated, or short - it’s real . Jimin’s sure it’s just the heat of the room, but all the sudden he feels a warmness somewhere in his chest.
He quickly leaves, pulling the door close behind him before thinking any more about it.
Predictably, of course, Taehyung comes out all towel slung low, and glistening bare chest, and droplets falling from his hair and pattering to the floor while Jimin sits on the sofa very much invested in the telly. Jimin hasn’t had even one naked man in his flat before and now here stands one he hardly knows. Jimin very pointedly keeps watching The Heirs, he’s never been less attentive when Kim Woobin’s on his screen.
Jimin can feel him watching, and he’s very purposefully not watching him. He can even see the sly smile pulling at his boxy mouth as he takes cheeky little steps to stand directly in front of the telly.
When Jimin can no longer ignore him, he bites, “Are you done invading my space? I’m trying to watch telly.”
Taehyung snorts, his tongue just barely peeking out at the side of his mouth where he’s smirking. Jimin tries to be subtle as he swallows the lump in his throat and forces himself to meet his eyes.
“D’you want your towel back?” Taehyung unwraps himself slightly, forcing Jimin’s attention as he reveals a sliver of upper thigh that is paler than the rest of him. Jimin can’t help but notice just how lean and strong his legs are.
“No!” Jimin shouts, holding his hands out to stop him and just barely squinting his eyes, as a precaution. “Give it back after you wash it.”
“I just figured - because you were staring.”
“I was not staring.”
“You were -”
“ I wasn’t -”
“You were -”
Jimin stops himself and rolls his eyes at the satisfied smirk on Taehyung’s face.
“Like I said,” Jimin stands up and walks over to the door to open it for him. “ After you’ve put it through the wash. Perhaps, with boiling water and bleach.”
This time, Taehyung rolls his eyes.
Taehyung strolls easily toward him, waits until he’s standing in front of Jimin and then stops. There are droplets still running down his chest and Jimin very carefully meets his eyes - unwilling to give him the satisfaction of looking away. Somehow, it only makes him look more smug.
The hand not clenched around the towel runs through his wet hair, sending dribbles of water splattering on Jimin, who shields himself with a hand and squeezes his eyes shut. It comes as a surprise then when Jimin feels Taehyung’s thumb trace suddenly down his jaw, leaving a slight dampness in its path. It takes everything Jimin has to not look away, then - to meet his mischievous dark eyes.
Taehyung leans in close, his neck angling slightly so his lips are just brushing Jimin’s ear. Jimin has to remind himself that his heartbeat isn’t actually as deafening as it sounds.
“Cancel that date,” his warm breath hits Jimin’s skin and he can feel a roll of sensation reverberate through his body.
“What? I can’t -”
He leans in even closer, close enough that Jimin presses his hands against his warm chest to keep him at bay.
“Of course you can,” his thumb gently runs along Jimin’s plump bottom lip, plucking it out slightly, “and stop using that rose wash. It smells shit.” He looks down pointedly at Jimin’s hands on his chest.
His chuckle plays in Jimin’s ear even after he shoves him out into the hall.
“You're horrible.”
“You’re falling for it.” Jimin lets the door slam, but not before Taehyung calls back, “And don’t fall for him - the golfer.”
“Tennis player.”
“Who even cares.”
As Jimin throws out his shower pouffe, just in case, and his rose body wash, he didn’t like it anyway, he wonders if Taehyung might be right. If he might be falling for him.
Shit.
Three.
Sometimes Jimin wonders why Jungkook refuses to take care of him when he’s drunk - then Thursday happens.
Exactly one week after Taehyung used his shower, Jimin’s laying in bed, nearly asleep when he hears it - a scraping and scratching at the door of his flat. His senses are all of the sudden fully alert, a jolt of adrenaline running through his body. Jimin exists on a fairly extreme spectrum - he’s an emotional guy - a lover, a fighter - this sends him spiralling to the former at an alarming pace.
He carefully shoves back his comforter and tiptoes to the hall. He can feel his hands shaking with panic as the handle to the front door is being fumbled with, the metal twisting back and forth as someone from the outside attempts to gain entry. Jimin grabs a pot from the kitchen and unlatches and opens the door in one swift motion before he has time to lose his nerve.
Jimin yells in shock as a man tumbles to the floor at his feet. His long limbs spread out disjointedly and his fingers easily lock around his socked ankle, sending waves of alarm through his body. Jimin tries to kick the guy away, but his grip is strong , and Jimin is pulled downed to the floor where he lands atop the man with a gutteral oomph .
“Fuck,” the man groans, “S’heavy.”
Before Jimin can register the voice, he twists so he’s straddling across the guy’s back, pot raised high above his head and his fist tangled roughly into the man’s hair.
“Wh- Taehyung?” Jimin mumbles as he gets a whiff of the man, the smell of something vaguely-rosey filling his nostrils.
“Little neighbour my ass,” he grumbles, fidgeting around so Jimin falls on his bum, none too gently. “Lot fuckin’ heavier than you look.”
“What?” Jimin confusedly repeats as Taehyung brushes himself off and stumbles to his feet, pulling Jimin up with him. “Taehyung, what are you doing? Why are you breaking into my house?”
“M’hungry and need ya t’make me food.”
His words are all mushed together; his already deep voice seeping out even deeper. His eyes are a bit red and his cheeks and lips are much more pink than his usual milky complexion. The confused look on Jimin’s face fades slightly as it clicks.
“Wait - are you drunk?”
Taehyung shakes his head sloppily and his lips pouting in an honry way that makes Jimin smile despite himself.
“M’juss tipsy,” he stumbles as he tries to take a step and Jimin quickly grabs his arm to wrap it around his neck and fits the other one around his back to carry more of his weight. Jimin’s head tucks in easily to his shoulder and, although Taehyung’s heavy, his body feels good pressed up against Jimin’s. “Juss tipsy an’ hungry, Jiminie.”
“Don’t you have food at your place?” Carefully, Jimin walks him toward the sofa, Taehyung’s steps slow and clumsy.
“Got food at m’place but needja t’cook fo’ me.”
Jimin quickly determines that his step and speech aren’t tipsy-like. Rather, he’s drunk .
“Why me?”
“Taste betta when Jiminie does it, liddle bossy neighbour.”
“M’not-” Jimin scoffs indignantly but stops when Taehyung’s face breaks into a smug grin. Jimin decides not to give him the pleasure of that argument. Instead, he points out, “I’ve never even cooked for you.”
He waves it off as a small technicality as Jimin sets him down on the sofa. “I juss kno’ it will be betta’.”
It’s not graceful, Taehyung’s journey to lay down, and somehow Jimin finds himself pulled down on top of him. Quickly realising it may have been his intention as his arms wrap around Jimin’s back to hold him firmly against Taehyung’s chest.
“Willya cook fo’ me? Jiminie?”
Jimin tries to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. He’s never been this close to Taehyung. His belly pressed flat against his and his forehead and lips mere inches away. Close enough that he can smell the rose again, and, even stronger, the smell of soju. Jimin can’t help the surge of irritation that floods through him at the butterflies he’s feeling over a drunk man’s words - embarrassing, really.
“I’ll cook for you, but you have to let me go.”
Taehyung nods but keeps a firm hold on him. His hands are clasped and Jimin’s back, and Jimin can feel the slow rise and fall of his chest underneath him.
“Y’cook fo’ me cause y’like me? Ramyun? Cause y’don’ like the golfer?”
“Golfer?” Jimin shakes his head, confused, and then remembers that date from last week. “Oh? Minhyuk? I cancelled that.”
His eyes light up brightly and Jimin can’t help himself as he blurts, “I just didn’t think it was wise to go to his home…I mean I don’t even know him. He could’ve been a murderer or a -”
“Y’did it fo’ me.”
Jimin scoffs and rolls his eyes.
“I did not do it for you -”
“Y’did.”
“I didn’t -”
Jimin stops himself before he continues playing his game. He shakes his head at Taehyung and tries to push off his chest, but Taehyung squeezes tighter, and he’s bigger, and stronger, so Jimin stays firmly pressed against him.
“Do you want me to cook for you, then? You hungry? Ramyun?”
Taehyung shakes his head and manages not to knock Jimin in the nose or chin as both his hands move to cup his face. His large hands easily wrap around Jimin’s small, warming face. Suddenly, the butterflies in his stomach have moved to his chest, throat, and brain. Jimin can’t stop his gaze from embarrassingly flickering from the pink softness of his lips to the intense stare of his eyes.
“I mean it,” Taehyung says seriously, “You’ll cook fo’me cause y’really like me?”
Jimin licks his lips, swallows the lump in his throat, and tries to pull his head away, but Taehyung’s grip is unrelenting, forcing an answer.
Jimin’s mouth feels dry, but he forces it past his lips. “Yes, I will cook for you because I like you. I really like you.”
Taehyung smiles, a real one where his eyes get all wrinkly and it’s all square lips, and gums, and a lot of teeth. “My little neighbour, Jiminie -”
It’s quick and sudden, but Taehyung’s lips are on Jimin’s, warm and needy. Pressed hard up against Jimin’s mouth, and it feels good - like, really good. It sends energy through Jimin’s toes and up into his chest and head. He can feel some interest building in his lower abdomen, and he’s sure Taehyung can tell, too, one his tongue slips past Jimin’s lips. His hot, soft mouth takes hungrily and Jimin’s happy to meet his breath, the curve of his tongue, and leans heavily into the hard body below him.
Jimin knows Taehyung’s drunk, but it’s so nice and purposeful, and deliberate against Jimin’s. Like it’s something he’s wanted, too.
Taehyung lets go of Jimin’s face, flashes him a big goofy smile, and pats Jimin’s bum twice. “ Really like ya too. M’just bad withit, tho’.”
He finally lets Jimin go.
Jimin quickly stumbles to the kitchen, feeling a bit light, and goofy, and giddy himself, quick to busy himself to ignore his own confession. To ignore his heart pounding in his chest and his head and his ears. To ignore the warmth of Taehyung’s touch on his cheeks and lips and tongue.
Jimin places some ramyun in the boiling water, scooping some leftover rice into a bowl, too. Jimin’s hardly the cook that Taehyung seems to be imagining, but he’s pretty sure Taehyung’s too gone to care what gets put in front of him.
“I bough’ my own shampoo - the rosey smelly stuff,” Taehyung slurs slowly, his voice too loud, too deep, too lazy from the sofa. “Smelled t’good, tho’. S’why I said it, y’know, Jiminie? Y’smelled too good. M’shower wasn’t even broke.” Jimin can’t help the soft smile on his face as he stirs the noodles, tasting one for himself.. “Y’know? Juss - when I firs’ saw ya - I juss thought…”
Jimin gets a bowl from the cupboard.
“Y’not really bossy. Well, y’are and are liddle, too.” Taehyung chuckles to himself, and Jimin bites a smile back as he places the rice and ramyun on a tray. “Really, I juss like t’see y’all flustered and stuff,” his voice trails off drowsily, “S’cute…”
“Taehyung,” Jimin turns the corner, tray in hand, “You really don’t need to - oh .”
He’s asleep or passed out. His legs tucked up slightly and one hand shoved under his head for a pillow. Jimin sighs because of course he’s most amicable when he’s completely wasted - go figure.
Jimin set the toast, a glass of water, and two Panadol tablets on the table before him. Gently, Jimin works off his slippers and grabs a pillow and blanket from his bed to give to Taehyung. It’s a testament to just how drunk the man is that he doesn’t so much as flutter as an eyelash when Jimin lifts his head to place the pillow beneath it.
“Will you remember any of this tomorrow?” Jimin asks softly, but all the answer he gets is an especially heavy breath.
With that, Jimin flips the light switch off, shuts the door to his own room and curls up under his covers. When Jimin wakes in the morning, the bowls are clean and drying on the rack, and the Panadol and Taehyung have quietly disappeared.
Four.
Jimin avoids Taehyung after that.
The walls are thin enough, and he’s loud enough, that Jimin had basically memorised his schedule by this point anyway. Jimin times his departures before Taehyung’s and slips back in his door before Taehyung ever returns. He avoids the lobby, instead opting for the private, albeit less convenient, back entrance. Jimin even takes the lift at the other end of their floor, taking the greatest precaution to never be dreadfully trapped inside the lift with him.
Jimin’s not terribly surprised when Taehyung comes knocking because he did leave a bracelet on Jimin’s floor that Taehyung must have knocked off during some drunken motion that night. Jimin is a little surprised when Taehyung comes knocking on three different occasions after Jimin hangs the bracelet stealthily on the handle of Taehyung’s door.
Nonetheless, Jimin definitely does not answer. Instead, Jimin hides in his kitchen, not flipping a switch, or taking a step, or breathing too hard. He listens to Taehyung talk frustratedly through the door. His irritated pleads to “Open the door. I know you can hear me and I know you are there. Jimin!” doing nothing to prompt Jimin’s action.
Eventually, Taehyung gives up.
And when it all comes down to it, Jimin’s not even sure why. He tries to blame Taehyung - and really Taehyung did leave that morning. Jimin’s sure it was because of regret. He regretted what he said. Or, he didn’t even remember what he said or did. Most likely, he was completely beside himself when he woke up in Jimin’s flat and was so baffled by the circumstance that he left before having to bother explaining himself.
And, the further away from that night Jimin gets, the more he regrets it too. He had embarrassingly confessed his feelings to Taehyung when he was drunk. And - gods - Jimin had also kissed him and blushed and butterflied about it.
Christ .
Now, Jimin’s spread out on his living room floor, cheek and belly pressed to the smooth wood. The warm winter sun is streaming down on his back and the only sound is the oven clicking as it heats the meal he had haphazardly thrown into it twenty minutes ago.
Right now, it’s too much. Jimin thinks he might just move. Move out of his flat, move maybe into Jungkook’s place, or even back home - his mum would love that. It’s just, Jimin can’t stand the idea of having to look Taehyung in the face again. He must think Jimin’s pathetic or desperate or disillusioned. Mistaking someone’s drunken ramblings as the truth must be one of the more mortifying things a person can do. It might be easier to just avoid it all together. Avoid Taehyung and avoid his feelings.
Jimin sighs heavily - he’s an absolute gits. He closes his eyes for a few seconds - or minutes - trying to clear his brain. Enjoy the silence, enjoy the warm sun on his back and the smooth wood pressed flat against his cheek. It’s relaxing enough to just fall asleep -
Jimin startles awake to a pounding on his door and that’s when Jimin realises he had fallen asleep.
“Open up! You there? Jimin!? I’m going to break this -” Jimin groggily opens hus eyes and immediately notices the smell of smoke and the grey haze of his flat.
“Shit!” Jimin yelps, jumping up and running to the kitchen, ignoring the continuous slamming on the door and the threats that ‘I’m going to knock right through this thing!” to pull open the oven door to a cloud of black smoke. Shoving a mitt on to his hand, Jimin blindly pulls out the crisped takeaway that he was trying to warm back up.
“Open up for me, Jimin! Now!”
Jimin grabs a flannel and waves it around to disperse the smoke with one hand and uses the other to unlock the door to vent into the corridor.
“What in the hell are you doing?” Taehyung barges past Jimin the second there is enough room and grabs the flannel from his hand as he storms into the kitchen. He turns on the tap, extinguishing the flames Jimin hadn’t noticed were sparking from his food and turns off the gas. “Are you trying to kill yourself?”
Taehyung glares at Jimin angrily as he flips on the oven vent and orders Jimin to open up the windows.
“What do you care?” Jimin snaps back shortly, marching off to do as he was told, angrily shoving open the windows and letting in the crisp winter air. “It’s not like it would bother you much.”
“Of course it would’ve.”
Jimin returns to watch Taehyung shoo away the smoke, the muscles of his shoulders tensing under the cotton of his shirt enough that Jimin can see the sharp lines of muscle from his back.
Jimin’s not sure what makes him say it because he’s thought of nothing but avoiding the topic since last week, but it slips from his mouth in his irritation and sits between the two of them before he can stop it.
“Why’d you leave, then? If you care, then why didn’t you stay that morning?”
And Taehyung doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. Instead, he turns off the tap, flips off the fan on the oven, and continues waving the flannel around to push the smoke out to the corridor. Jimin can see the tension in his jaw, the hard angles more defined than usual.
It makes him look older and handsomer, too.
“Because I like you,” Taehyung says, finally.
He stops pretending to be distracted and turns, his hip resting on the counter, and his arms across his chest to look at Jimin.
“You left because you like me?” Jimin repeats sceptically, the disbelief clear in his voice.
Taehyung nods and doesn’t offer anything else. Jimin throw his hands up, exasperated because - what the fuck.
“That doesn’t make sense, Taehyung.” Jimin tries not to sound accusatory, it doesn’t work, “You don’t have to make something up just to make me feel better. I know you were drunk and I was stupid for kissing you. But just come out and say it then. Don’t give me bollocks - ”
“I’m not!”
“ Yes , you are. You’re lying.”
Taehyung takes a step closer to Jimin, holding his hands out to grab his elbows which are wrapped across his chest.
“ M’not lying. I like you, Jimin.”
His thumbs rub comfortingly across Jimin’s skin.
Jimin huff, doing his best to ignore him.
“You smell good, and you’re cute and small, and I’m just bad with feelings. Really . I meant what I said that night.” Taehyung leans in closer, his forehead pressing flat against Jimin’s, “And I meant what I did.”
Jimin leans back, moving away from Taehyung.
“Well, I can’t now. I’ve a date tonight and I have to get -”
“Fuckin’ Minhyun -”
“ Hyuk -” Jimin glares at him in exasperation, “His name is Minhyuk .”
“Fuck him. Don’t go,” Taehyung pulls Jimin back in, taking his face into his hands and pulling their bodies together. “Cancel it. Let me cook for you,” and then quickly amends after Jimin looks towards his kitchen, “At my place? Let me be your date.”
“Taehyung, I can’t just -”
His lips come down on Jimin’s - demanding and hard. His tongue quickly slips into Jimin’s ready mouth. A warmth erupts in Jimin’s chest and it fogs his brain and lets whatever was holding Jimin back poof away like the smoke in the room. His hands latch on to Taehyung’s chest and he can feel him smile into the kiss at Jimin’s touch. One of his hands moves from Jimin’s cheek to wrap firmly around the back of his neck, pulling slightly to angle him deeper into his mouth.
“ Fine ,” Jimin groans when they both pull back to take a breath, “but it can’t be ramyun. Cook me something fancy.”
Taehyung laughs and leans down to kiss Jimin again. His hands wrap around Jimin’s lower back, pulling their bodies back together.
“And it better be good.” Jimin threatens, “ and I want dessert - fruit or ice cream or- ”
Jimin squeals when Taehyung’s hand tickles into his side, pulling back to watch Jimin’s face flush redder as he squirms away.
“My little bossy-”
Jimin kisses Taehyung again before he has chance to finish.