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Jimin wakes up drenched in warmth. It doesn’t take him long to remember it’s Hoseok who’s wrapped around him like a heated blanket, he doesn’t think he ever really forgot. He fell asleep aware that Hoseok was there. He never left in his dreams. He wakes up and he’s still by his side.
Jimin just wishes he could enjoy any of it without feeling like he’s running out of time.
One day Hoseok will find out that when he touches Jimin it makes his skin erupt in goosebumps and his stomach flutter, it makes him want to crawl closer and curl up with Hobi forever.
He thinks it’s harder when Hoseok is close by, like he is now. Limbs wrapped all around Jimin, every breath hitting the sensitive nape of Jimin’s neck warmly. He hardly has to try to imagine a life where this is their every morning together, waking up side by side. Jimin would roll over and kiss him sweetly, Hoseok would tell him he has morning breath but it wouldn’t matter.
Life like that would be so easy. Jimin wouldn’t want for anything in the world if he got to have Hoseok like that.
An alarm on Hoseok’s phone goes off aprubtly, shattering the quiet of the moment. Hoseok rolls over with a groan, dragging most of the covers with him.
“Jimin-ah,” he whines. Jimin can hear him crack his body from head to toe before exhaling loudly. “Did you sleep okay?”
Hoseok’s arms are stretched above his head, riding his t-shirt up above his belly button and Jimin has to pretend that he’s not working overtime to not stare at the all-too-visible strip of skin.
“Slept fine,” he tells Hoseok, sitting up and drawing his legs up in front him. He rests his chin on top of his knees and blinks sleepily. “You?”
“Better than expected.”
“Feeling good about tonight?”
“Feeling better cause my Jiminie is here,” Hoseok cracks a smile and rolls over the length of the bed, stopping when he’s directly on top of Jimin and bumps his forehead onto his cheek.
My Jiminie . Does Hoseok know how those words fill Jimin with yearning? How they tug at his heartstrings and can never decide if the way that it hurts is too good or too bad?
“I’m really glad you came, baby.”
Stop calling me that, please stop calling me that. I love you too much for you to call me that.
Jimin loves Hoseok. Jimin is in love with Hoseok. He’s not one of those silly, emotionally repressed people who live so far in denial that they can’t even sort through their own feelings. He knows full well he’s been way too far gone for his hyung for the better part of their time together but he’ll be damned if he lets that come between them.
He would quite literally lay in a ditch and rot before his own misplaced feelings stopped him from hugging Hoseok when he needs hugged or cheering him on when he needs someone to support him.
“I told you I wouldn’t miss it, hyung, seriously.” Jimin pushes Hobi’s warm body off of him and slides his legs to the side of the bed. “What time do you have to be at the venue?”
“10am,” Hoseok yawns and rolls into the pillows. “Got some interviews to do - would you believe people want to talk to me? Not BTS, just me.”
“Hmm, yeah I’d believe it pretty easy. Everyone loves you, hyung, they think you’re the coolest guy in the world. I think after this stage no one will even think of BTS, they’ll just want Jhope Jhope Jhope.”
Hoseok laughs at the thought, flipping on his back and shaking his head. “No way, Jhope is BTS. I can’t do this for very long without you guys - and I don’t want to.”
Jimin glances over his shoulder at where Hoseok’s head is tilted back to look up at him. He looks so delicate like this, spread out in the center of the bed, dark strands of hair falling over the edges of the pillow. He looks good with his long hair, like a modern Mick Jagger or Joan Jett.
“Yeah, well…I’m just saying, don’t underestimate yourself.”
They order room service. Hoseok takes a shower while they wait for it to arrive and Jimin gets dressed in something simple. He just wants to blend into the crowd today, it’s Hobi’s moment not his.
When the food shows up, they sit on the bed cross legged, knee to knee, and eat it. Hoseok’s hair is damp and he smells like hotel soap and his cologne. He does most of the talking and Jimin doesn’t mind. He’s okay with just listening.
He tells him about the set list and the cheorography. About the way he’s excited to perform with Becky G for the first time, and how he likes the stage outfits he has picked out.
In between talking he’ll pick up a strawberry from the little dish between them and pop it in his mouth.
“They’re really good berries, Jimin-ah,” he tells him. “Try one.”
He doesn’t wait for Jimin to grab his own, he reaches out and nudges his mouth open and puts on one his tongue for him.
It is a good berry. But it’s not half as sweet as the way Hoseok looks at him. And it doesn’t taste as good as Jimin knows Hoseok would taste.
“It’s good, hyung,” Jimin agrees, setting his clean plate on the tray.
Hoseok tilts his head. His mouth is curved into a heart shaped smile. “Do you want another one?”
“Do you want another one?”
“I wanna give you another one,” Hoseok laughs, plucking a plump, red berry from the dish and flicking the stem off. “Open your mouth.”
Jimin does so, obediently, hyper-aware of Hoseok’s delicate fingers feeding him carefully. He closes his mouth to chew, but Hobi’s hand doesn’t leave his face, his pinky rests on Jimin’s cheek and the pad of his thumb sits on his bottom lip, just barely brushing.
If Jimin opened his mouth again it would fall right onto his tongue. He could kiss the juice right off of Hoseok’s fingertips. He could kiss his delicate wrists and the inside of his arm, all the way up to his collarbones where they peek out of his shirt prettily.
No. It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean anything. Jimin is so unfair for twisting Hoseok’s playful nature into something it’s not. Hobi-hyung is always one for physical affection, Jimin has seen him pull Jungkook onto his lap and slide his hands up into his shirt for nothing more than the comfort of it. It doesn’t mean anything more than that.
Jimin isn’t a very good person for thinking it means anything more than that.
It’s baking hot when they get to the venue. For the most part, Jimin tries to linger in buildings and under canopies as much as he can, soaking up the cool shade. He does a lot of trailing.
Trailing after Hoseok to his interviews. Trailing after him while he gets his photos taken. Trailing after him while he warms up backstage.
Hobi introduces him to everyone they see.
This is my band mate, Jimin. This is my dongsaeng, Jimin.
He’s so proud Jimin is there, so excited to show him off to anyone who asks- and everyone who doesn’t
“ You flew all the way from South Korea for one show?” The people look at Jimin disbelief sometimes. “ That’s quite the trip!”
He thinks it’s funny, the way they act like it’s some sort of arduous burden he was obligated to fulfill. Like Jimin didn’t go out of his way to choose to be here because every bone in his body wanted to.
Flying here and back a hundred times still wouldn’t be enough to repay Hoseok for being the kind of friend that he is. For all the comfort he provides and well-worded advice and hours of overtime spent in the studios making sure every single one of them understood the choreography and no one falls behind or feels alone.
Jimin thinks Hoseok taught him what a friend should be. There’s never enough of anything in this world to repay that.
Dusk falls and they retreat into the artist’s lounge. Hoseok grows quieter and quieter with nerves as the time grows nearer. For awhile, he’s up and pacing, murmuring his own lyrics under his breath, and then at some point he gives up on that and crawls onto the couch, sliding down so his legs are tucked up and his head rests on Jimin’s thigh.
He inhales deeply. Jimin can feel his thin chest rise and fall.
“Jimin?”
“Yeah?”
Quiet stretches between them for a moment, broken only by Hoseok’s shaky breaths.
“What if I’m not good?”
Jimin swallows over the lump in his throat. “You will be good, hyung.”
“No, Jimin, what if- don’t just say that okay? I mean really, what if I’m not good? What if I mess up or forget what I’m supposed to say? What if I’m too nervous to put on a good show. What if-“ Hoseok breaks off, blinking rapidly. “What if I’m not good enough to do this by myself?”
The note of fear in his voice makes Jimin crumple. Jung Hoseok of all people should never have to doubt himself. Jimin thinks he’s one of the strongest, most dynamic performers in the world, no one takes a stage like he does.
Jimin lowers his hand without really thinking of it, settling in Hoseok’s hair and combing his fingertips through gently. “Hyung,” he murmurs. “You are good enough to do this by yourself. You always have been. But if you go on that stage and it’s not everything you wanted, what’s the worst that happens? You’ll come back here and I won’t love you any less. The members won’t love you any less. No matter what happens, one hour doesn’t undo ten years of being the best, the greatest , hyung. You are the greatest.”
“I just don’t want to let anyone down, Jiminie.” Hoseok whispers.
“You won’t let anyone down. You earned your spot here today and that’s enough to make everyone proud, do you know that? We’re already proud, you could never let us down.”
He wants to lean down and kiss Hoseok. To make sure he feels every bit of Jimin’s love and awe for him. I love you I love you I love you , he wants to say. You will never disappoint me as long as you live.
Hoseok rolls onto his back and looks up at him, damp eyed and earnest. “Do you mean it, baby?”
“Of course,” Jimin exhales. “Always.”
He really does hold Hoseok’s hand up until the second he goes onstage. He waits in the wings, one hand intertwined with his and the other massaging the back of his neck. When the PA calls for it, he walks him to the platform that will boost him onto the stage in 60 seconds time.
“You’re gonna do amazing,” Jimin whispers to him. “You make me proud.”
Hoseok nods, saying nothing as he takes his position, crouched on the platform. The timer counts down from ten and he looks over, fleetingly, and blows Jimin a kiss a half second before the platform kicks up and raises him out of sight.
The second, the second the show starts, Jimin feels the secondhand anxiety leave his body.
That’s his star down there on that stage. From his explosive energy you wouldn’t even know how nervous he had been. He commands the stage, every eye is on him and as soon as he realizes, it seems to energize him.
That crowd is there for him. They brought their ARMY bombs, they know the lyrics, they sing it back to him from the bottom of their hearts.
When they chant his name, Jimin does too.
He’s proud. He’s so fucking proud.
Jimin exits his bird’s-eye-view seat in the VIP section a minute or two before the show ends, because he told Hoseok he’s be the first person to greet him offstage and he meant that. He waits by the platform lift, counting down the seconds till it lowers Hoseok back to him.
It barely hits the ground before Hoseok leaps off and throws himself into Jimin’s arms, spinning them around dizzily.
“Hyung!” He laughs. “You did it! You did the whole thing!”
“I fucking did it,” Hoseok gasps, his face split into a wide smile. “It was so- I didn’t think I’d- Jimin, I did it!”
Jimin grips the back of his shirt and squeezes him tightly, burying his other hand in Hoseok’s hair. It doesn’t matter that he’s damp with sweat and wiping his forehead on Jimin’s neck, or that it’s still way too hot and sticky even at this hour to be touching anyone much less bear hugging them.
It doesn’t matter to Jimin at all.
Hoseok doesn’t even want to shower before they hop on live. He practically bounces the whole car ride back to the hotel, pumped up so high on post-concert serotonin that his hands shake. He wants to run right to ARMY and tell them everything before he settles down, and Jimin can’t blame them.
They crack open a bottle of champagne before switching it on. It’s so easy to sit on the couch next to Hoseok, tablet screen propped on the table, sending out their broadcast to millions of viewers, and it’s so easy to let praise after praise fall from his mouth.
“ It was better than a BTS concert, hyung, seriously. How are we ever going to top that?”
Hoseok laughs and laughs, and hugs him and laughs some more.
Jimin doesn’t know if he’s ever seen him so happy.
He definitely knows that it was worth it to cancel work and fly over here.
Hoseok tells the viewers that Jimin is his sunshine, a ray of light that comforted him the second he got here. How it meant so much to know he was in the audience cheering him on. It’s enough to make Jimin blush and lean off camera bashfully, hiding his face in his hands.
He gets butterflies from Hoseok’s fond words, the way he looks at him with heart eyes or reaches out to fiddle with his necklace and keeps tackling him with hugs.
Maybe it’s the high from the show or maybe it’s the champagne that makes Hoseok’s touches soft and warm and unabashed. His hands wander over Jimin’s skin easily, sending shiver after shiver up and down his spine.
When Hoseok blows goodbye kisses and switches off the stream, Jimin finds it’s a welcome end. He loves their ARMY, but his skin is warm and tingly and he wants to be alone. Or maybe he wants to be alone with Hobi.
Curl up into his lap and remind him of how well he did and how much the crowd loved him and how hot he looks with his long hair. He could blame that last bit on the glass and a half of champagne and pretend in the morning like he never said anything at all.
Does Hoseok want them to sleep next to each other again? Jimin thinks going back to his cold, unused bed tonight would feel like a sore blow after the day they’ve had. He wants one more perfect night of falling asleep side by side and waking up tangled together, one last selfish little night before the dream ends and he faces reality again.
“Hobi-hyung,” he murmurs, scooting closer to Hoseok on the couch so their thighs press together.
Oh he’s going to regret letting himself touch Hoseok so freely. As if he can’t already feel his heart beating out of his chest with longing.
“Can I sleep with you again tonight?”
Hoseok looks over, grinning at him with his glass of bubbly poised for a sip. “Such a big fan that you want to take me to bed afterwards, aish Jimin-ah, I’m flattered.”
Jimin feels a warm blush creep up his neck. Hoseok only means it as a joke, of course, but it’s a little too on the nose for him to laugh.
“I don’t know hyung, I’m starting to think you’ve got no game,” he shrugs, downing the rest of his champage. “You had a whole audience full of willing one night stands and yet you end up back here drinking hotel champagne on the couch with me.”
Hoseok glances over at him, flicking his eyebrows up. He slides his hand to the back of Jimin’s neck, just letting it rest there. “Maybe the only person I wanted to be with was you, Jimin-ah,” he murmurs.
It should only be a sweet sentiment, but something about the way the warm smile has slipped off his face into something more intent shifts the air in the room.
Jimin sets his glass down on the coffee table, readjusting himself where he sits. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, I…like being with you.” Hoseok is looking at him but he’s not looking at him. He’s looking at his face. His neck.
His lips.
He’s not really looking at his lips, is he?
Jimin flicks his eyes up, checking Hoseok’s gaze. No he’s definitely looking at his lips. He’s probably drunk, this is where Jimin shuts down the situation for the both of them and calls for bed time. He can take a cold shower and he will not be jerking off in there to the thought of Hoseok looking at his lips because he’s respectful.
He’s a good friend, he’ll keep being a good friend.
“We should go to bed,” Jimin murmurs hoarsely. There’s no reason for his throat to be this dry. “It’s been a long day.”
“We didn’t even finish the champage,” Hoseok nods at the open bottle. “It’ll go to waste if we don’t drink it tonight, you know.”
Then let it go to waste , the tiny voice in Jimin’s head screams. You need to get out of here before you do something you regret.
“Yeah. Yeah, I guess we should finish it,” Jimin’s mouth answers without his brain’s permission.
“Probably should,” Hoseok agrees. He moves his hand from the back of of Jimin’s neck to the front, stroking a finger through his bangs fondly, the tip of his index finger trailing from Jimin’s temple down to his jaw and back up again. Neither of them make any attempt to reach for the rest of the champage.
“Did you like when I fed you strawberries this morning?”
The question is sudden, and Jimin doesn’t need to be entirely sober to know it’s loaded with implication. Even if the question didn’t give that away, the finger that’s sliding from his jaw to his bottom lip would.
“Yeah,” Jimin blinks twice. “I did.”
“Yeah, I thought so.” The smirk on Hoseok’s face is self satisfied and almost smug. Is he…teasing?
“What part of it did you like, Jiminie?”
“I liked…the berry,” Jimin lies. That’s such a stupid reply, the fact that he can’t flirt all of the sudden should be a sure sign that this is a bad idea. “It tasted good.”
“Hm, yeah.” Hoseok’s thumb nudges between his lips, not quite parting them, but not keeping a distance either. “Is that what tasted good, the berries?”
“Y-yeah, of course.” Jimin’s skin feels so hot. He shouldn’t be doing this. Every second he sits here indulging himself is a week’s worth of self torment for letting it happen in the first place.
Hoseok’s thumb pushes forwards just barely, only enough to brush the tip of Jimin’s tongue. He’s watching Jimin’s mouth intently, eyes filled with something more than fondness. He looks hungry.
“Open up for hyung, Jiminie.”
His words are barely audible, but in the quiet of the room, Jimin thinks they’re the loudest thing he’s ever heard. And the stupidest thing he could possibly do is obey.
So that’s exactly what he does.
When Hoseok slides his thumb into Jimin’s mouth he groans softly, a delicate noise of pleasure, and Jimin doesn’t think he’ll ever forget that’s what his hyung sounds like when he’s turned on.
He closes his lips around the digit and sucks almost instinctively, holding it in his mouth for a moment before releasing with a wet noise that sees to ignite a fire in Hoseok’s eyes.
His own lips are parted as he searches Jimin’s face hungrily, drinking him in like the last glass of water in a desert. “So fucking pretty, Jiminie,” he breathes out.
They’re so close, the two of them. Jimin is practically in Hoseok’s lap, if one of them were just to lean in, it would be too easy. Too easy to brush their noses together.
Too easy to count the freckles on Hoseok’s cheeks.
Too easy to share the same breath, passing from one mouth to another.
When their lips meet, Jimin’s brain short circuits. He really believes if you asked him his name right at this moment, he wouldn’t have a damn clue. Not that it would matter, the only real tangible thing in this world is Hoseok and his mouth moving sweetly with Jimin’s.
He tastes like sweet champagne and honey, and his kisses are generous. Open-mouthed and warm, like the only point is feeling and tasting Jimin as much as possible, and if he can just do that then everything will be okay.
Hoseok’s hands find his waist and flip them over, so Jimin is pressed onto the couch beneath him. He’s hard, Jimin can feel his dick pressing against his hipbone and Jimin wonders dizzily how far he’ll take it.
If Hoseok would blow him. If he’d fuck him.
If Jimin even wants that, or if it would tear him apart.
“So hot, Jiminie,” Hoseok mumbles between kisses, nipping at his lower lip and kissing his jaw. “You’re so hot.”
Jimin arches his back at the touch, torn between pure pleasure and red panic signals flashing in his head telling him it’s not too late to end it before irreversible damage ensues.
It feels so good. That’s worth it isn’t it?
Hoseok’s hands slip under his shirt, sliding down his rib cage, nails digging into his skin just enough too leave marks will linger into the morning.
It will feel so good, for twenty minutes Jimin will feel better than he ever has in his life. And then morning will come and he’ll have to sit with what he’s done. He’ll have to lock himself in the bathroom, curl into himself, and try not to cry about the fact that he was Hoseok’s tipsy, post concert release and it will mean nothing. Nothing will change with them except for the fact that Jimin will know exactly what Hoseok looks and sounds like when he comes undone but he still won’t be Jimin’s.
Hoseok’s fingers ghost over the front of his pants, dipping under the waistband, and all of the sudden, Jimin seems to choke.
“Stop” he whispers. He can’t do this to himself. “Stop, stop I don’t want to do this.”
Hoseok moves off of him immediately, drawing back to the other side of the couch in a second and bringing a hand to his mouth. “Jimin I’m so- I’m so sorry . I thought you- I should have asked, I’m so sorry.”
His eyes are wide and apologetic and Jimin is trying so, so hard not to cry.
“No,” he sits up and shakes his head. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong, I just-“ Jimin breaks off, getting to his feet breathing rapidly. He has to get out of this room. “I just need- I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
“Jimin,” Hoseok gets to his feet. He looks almost as close to tears as Jimin is. “Please, I wasn’t trying to upset you. Can- can we talk about this, or-?”
“No,” Jimin shakes his head, wrapping his arms around his middle. “I’m fine, this is so stupid, I’m really fine.”
“You don’t look fine,” Hoseok tells him cautiously, looking him up and down.
“I am .” Even as he says it, Jimin feels tears well over in his eyes and spill down his cheeks. Jesus, he couldn’t have handled this any worse. He’s so fucking stupid for not cutting it off earlier, for scaring Hoseok and putting that devasted look on his face on a night where he should be nothing but happy.
Jimin is not a good friend.
“You say that, but you’re crying, so that makes me feel like you’re not fine.” Hoseok takes a step forwards. His hand twitches at his side, like he wants to reach out and comfort Jimin but he isn’t sure if he’s allowed to. “Jimin, I really am so sorry. I didn’t talk to you, I didn’t even ask if you like, you know, men.”
“I do,” Jimin all but sobs, mopping at his eyes with the sleeves of his zip up jacket. Fuck this wasn’t how any of this was supposed to go. If he ever had a chance to begin with, he definitely blew it now. “I’m not mad at you, hyung.”
“Why are you crying? Please tell hyung, Jiminie, we’ll figure it out.”
“It’s nothing, it’s just a personal problem,” Jimin shakes his head again. Is that what he’s calling it now? A personal problem?
Hey I’m fucking in love with you, it’s a personal problem.
“A personal problem?” Hoseok repeats. He cards a hand through his hair messily. His face is set in a deep frown. “You’re worrying me, Jimin. I- I don’t know what this means and I’m worried I hurt you.”
“You didn’t,” Jimin swears. He didn’t, he never could. Jimin hurt himself. He pulls the collar of his jacket over his eyes and hides beneath it, trying poorly to mop his tears.
“If you just tell me what’s wrong,” Hoseok begins softly. “I promise I’ll make it right.” He sounds so genuinely serious, every word laced with concern.
What is Jimin supposed to say? What can he possibly say now without pulling their friendship and his whole world down in shambles around him? He doesn’t know if he’s scared of that or if he’s scared it’s already happened. How will he go home and look at Hoseok like normal? Write music and learn dance and pretend like nothing in this hotel room happened?
Was he really so stupidly irresponsible that he burnt all that down? Will Hoseok ever touch him again without wondering what went wrong in this room on this night?
“I can’t be this for you, hyung,” Jimin chokes out. The words almost hurt coming up, sharp and bitter on his tongue. “I’m so sorry, I can’t do it.”
“Be what, Jiminie?” Hoseok almost coos at him. His voice oozes comfort that Jimin isn’t sure that he deserves. “I don’t want you to be anything for me, baby.”
“I know, I know !” Jimin tugs his head out of his collar and faces Hoseok finally. He’s well aware that his face is puffy and his eyes are red and he’s not the movie-perfect crier that he likes to pretend he is. All he is is tired and full of hurt that he can’t keep locked up inside of him anymore. He already screwed up beyond imagination tonight, he might as well burn everything else down while he’s at it. “That’s the point, I can’t be…nothing.”
“Jimin-“ Hoseok opens his mouth to speak, but Jimin hushes over his quickly. If he’s going to say this he has to say it now before his nerve gives out and he ends this on the worst possible open-ended mutual upset.
“I know this stuff is so easy for you, it comes naturally, but that’s not how it is for me. I can’t kiss someone - you - and pretend like it didn’t happen the next day and just keep being friends.”
“But Jimin-“ Hoseok’s mouth falls open again but Jimin holds a hand out, quieting him.
“No hyung, please just- let me say this, okay? I never wanted to tell you because I never wanted it to come between work or the band, but I think now it’ll just make things even worse if I don’t say anything.” Jimin buries his face in the sleeves of his jacket again and inhales shakily. He can’t look at Hoseok while he says this, he doesn’t want to see the disappointment in his face, or the way he’ll scramble to comfort him no matter how uncomfortable Jimin knows he’ll be.
He is so selfish for this.
“I’m just trying to get over you, hyung,” he whispers. “I think that somewhere along the line I kind of fell in love on accident. I was just a kid and you were so warm and talking to you felt easy and I- I swore I’d never let my personal feelings become a problem. I won’t let this ruin things hyung, I swear, we can go home and I’ll just take a few days and-“
“Jimin please-“
“-and I’ll pull my shit together, I’m not mad and none of this is your fault and I’m so sorry, hyung-“
“Park Jimin!” Hoseok cuts over him, raising his voice for the first time all night. “Stop for a second, just stop.”
“Sorry,” Jimin whispers, raising his face from his sleeves tearfully. Hoseok is mad at him. He honestly can’t say he doesn’t deserve that. Having a breakdown, making Hoseok’s important night about himself. If Hobi stood here and yelled at him for ten minutes, every word would be warranted. “I’m sorry, hyung.”
“Sweetheart,” Hoseok stretches his hand out, reaching for Jimin’s shoulder. His voice is impossibly gentle. “Did you maybe think, for one second, that I leaned over and kissed you because I feel the same way?”
Jimin’s jaw falls open, pure surprise rocking through him. Oh. He never scripted anything for that reply. He had thought he thought of everything. He had a reply ready for you’re irresponsible or you’re overstepping boundaries and in his worst moments he’d come up with a reply for I don’t want you near me anymore too.
But this?
“I- I didn’t think that-“ Jimin stammers helplessly. The hand Hoseok laid on his shoulder doesn’t feel angry or filled with disgust, it feels like a weight that grounds him.
“When I said I didn’t want you to be anything for me Jimin,” Hoseok begins carefully, stepping closer. “I didn’t mean I don’t want you, I meant I didn’t want you to pretend to be anything for me. Just you, you exactly the way you are is everything I want in the world.”
He slides his hands up to cup Jimin’s face, thumbs resting where tears slide from his eyes and swiping them away tenderly.
“Hyung thinks you’re perfect, don’t you know that?”
“Perfect even though I- I think I’m in love with you?” Jimin hiccups. Hoseok is looking at him with so much fondness that it refills his eyes with tears but he doesn’t think they’re devastated this time.
“As far as I’m concerned that makes you more perfect,” Hoseok informs him, holding his face intently. “Aish, Jimin last night I seriously fell in love with you.”
Jimin chuckles nervously. “Like actually, or…?”
“Like actually, Jimin-ah,” Hoseok wraps his arms around Jimin and buries his face in his neck, rocking them side to side. “I kept thinking about how glad I was to have you here, the way it made me feel like- like, like I could smile again just because you were by my side, and all of my feelings seemed to untangle themselves at once. It wasn’t just cause we’re friends, I knew then it wasn’t just that. I almost couldn’t fall asleep cause I just kept thinking about how much I like having you in my arms.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“Cause it would be weird,” Hoseok laughs, squeezing Jimin tighter. He smells nice, even with the post concert sweat and no shower, Jimin thinks he smells so nice. “ Wake up Jimin, I think I’m in love you. Wouldn’t that be strange?”
Jimin tips his head back, looking up at Hoseok’s heart shaped face. “I don’t think it would have been strange, I think I would have liked to hear it.”
“I would have liked to say it.” Hoseok gazes right back at him. After a moment, his shoulders slump and he presses his forehead to Jimin’s. “I’m sorry I made you cry, baby.”
For the first time, that particular pet name doesn’t sting at the deep longing inside Jimin. For the first time he relishes the very sound of it. “You didn’t make me cry, hyung. I made me cry.”
“No, I should have just talked to you and expressed my thoughts better and maybe this could have gone a little differently. A little better.”
“All things considered, hyung, this went a lot better than I ever envisioned it. I sort of thought if I ever told you wouldn’t look at me the same and you probably…you know, wouldn’t want to be my friend the same way.”
“Jimin,” Hoseok murmurs. His eyebrows knit together and he holds Jimin’s chin beneath his his thumb and forefinger. “No, honey, I’ll always be your friend. No matter what, at the end of the day hyung loves you so much.” He blinks rapidly, clearing away the dampness in his eyes. “Can I kiss you?”
Jimin nods vigorously, barely choking out a yes before he’s pushing onto his tiptoes and slotting their mouths together.
This time it’s sweet through and through. Nothing urges Jimin to pull away and hide, it’s just him and Hoseok and their tongues swiping over each other curiously. Learning how he feels. Learning how he tastes. Sliding his arms around Hoseok’s waist and pulling their bodies flush against each other.
He can feel Hobi’s heartbeat through his rib cage and the layers of clothes between them and there can’t be anything more endearing than the way he’s just as excited as Jimin is. Maybe a little nervous.
“I think you’re perfect too,” Jimin breathes between kisses. His hand comes to tangle in Hoseok’s hair, tugging down through the wavy strands, just long enough to brush against the nape of his neck prettily. “The best hyung.”
“Namjoonie and Jin-hyung and Yoongi-hyung aren’t going to like that,” Hoseok laughs breathily. He crouches slightly and picks Jimin up gracefully, refusing to break the kiss completely for it.
“That’s okay,” Jimin wraps his legs around Hoseok’s middle and hooks his ankles together to keep them there. “This isn’t about them.” He kisses the corner of Hoseok’s mouth and drops his head onto his shoulder, breathing in deeply and shutting his eyes. He doesn’t ever want to forget what being alive in this moment felt like. He could write a million songs about it, entire albums probably, filled with nothing but the kiss-drunken warmth soaking into his skin right now.
He recalls the sweet champagne they had sipped earlier and a single twinge of worry flicks through him fleetingly.
“Hobi-hyung,” he whispers into Hoseok’s neck, leaving a little kiss where his lips brush. “This isn’t one moment, right? It’s not the champage or the concert or the adrenaline, is it?”
“No,” Hoseok replies automatically. His hand is at the back of Jimin’s neck, thin fingers rubbing small circles on his skin soothingly. “It’s none of that. I had one glass of champagne, I’m so sober, Jimin, I’ll recite fucking pi or walk in a line for you or-“
“Stop,” Jimin giggles, lifting his head and kissing Hoseok again. Just because he can, really. He’s allowed to kiss him and that’s probably the most exciting thing in his life so far, which is saying a lot. “Stop, you don’t have to do any of that.”
“But I would, if you asked. Seriously I’d do whatever, I think you’ve got me wrapped around your pinky, Jimin-ah.” Hoseok gives him a smile, but it quickly slips into an earnest look. “Really, I’ll do anything to make sure you understand I mean all of this. I mean to tonight and in the morning and in ten years.”
“ Ten years?” Jimin exclaims, holding Hoseok’s face in his hands and smiling down at him.
“Yes, ten whole years, Jiminie.” Hoseok lifts him a little higher and buries his face in his chest, muffling his voice. “If you want me in ten years, I want you in ten years.”
“What happens after ten years expires?” Jimin teases, pushing Hoseok’s bangs back and kissing his temple.
“Well after ten years you can come find me and we’ll talk about renewing your contract. I’ll be inclined to do it if you ask really nicely,” Hobi tells Jimin. He can feel him smiling against his chest, amused with his own wit.
“Yeah, that’s…that’s perfect,” Jimin agrees, lowering his chin to rest on top of Hoseok’s hair press kisses to the crown of his head. The room is quiet. Outside, shouts and laughter can be heard ringing up from the streets through the open window, probably festival-goers making their way home or having post-show drinks before they wind down.
“Hey hyung?”
“Hm?”
“Do you think this will change the band? You and me?”
Hoseok lifts his head, studying Jimin’s face. He looks tired, but not the strung out tired he was yesterday, more like satisfied tired. The kind of tired you are after a good meal that leaves you ready to go to bed warm, and full.
“Yeah, I think so. But change doesn’t need to be a bad thing, does it, sweetheart?”
“No, but sometimes big changes make the future feel uncertain.”
“The future is always uncertain,” Hoseok dips his head in and kisses both of Jimin’s collarbones. “But I am certain you and I will be okay no matter what changes come our way. I have this theory that love always prevails.”
“That’s pretty romantic.”
“Oh Jimin,” Hoseok spins them around and tilts them onto the bed, falling into a tangle of limbs. “You have no idea how romantic I can be. But the good news is that you will find out.”
Jimin giggles, bumping his nose against Hoseok’s and dropping a kiss onto his perfect, heart-shaped mouth. “Oh hyung, I think the future looks promising .”