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Jimin learns that he will love you at 3 am. Behind closed doors and dimmed lights with loud rap music blaring from his computer, he will love you. He will ram his cock down your throat and bite his lips while moaning his love for you in breathy incarnations of your name; he will nip at your shoulder and leave his love for you in sloppy kisses under your collarbones, but he will not love you on the fragile surface of your neck. He will never leave his love for you in deep red-purple blotches on your skin, even if you desperately want him to. He will not love you at 3 pm sitting across the table at Starbucks, or in “don’t worry baby, I’ll pay for it. My treat.” He will love you in drunken kisses and the act of bringing you to the brink of ecstasy and back. He will love you in 7-minutes-in-heaven and ‘just friends.’
He will love you in her eyes, he will love you in her hips, he will love you in her smile, but he will never love you in your body.
He will tilt his head in faux-forgetfulness when you “accidentally” lay your hand on his thigh, and he will kiss her glossed lips with all teeth while staring directly into your eyes like this is all your fault; but most importantly he’ll keep coming back.
Jimin learns that he will keep coming back for the thrill of your dick in his mouth, for the smell of your post-fucking sweat, and for your knowledge about his body. He’ll come back for the way you moan “Yoongi hyung” in the way that she never can. He’ll come back even when you silently beg him not to, because somehow every single time you two had “hung out” not once did you wake up to the same sight you’d fallen asleep to. His denim jacket and blonde head were gone along with his boner, and you were left wondering whether he was actually real or just a wet dream.
Jimin learns that morning after morning you will paw for the older’s body on the opposite side of your mattress, only to be greeted by cold air. Nothingness. Morning after fucking morning you will be greeted by the emptiness of his lack of presence.
Not once will you able to provide proof for his visit in the first place, and that will enrage you. You will soon become sick of being a dirty little secret, a good time, a “quickie”, what-fucking-ever. You will be furious at him because no matter how many times you are jolted awake to the immediate thought of how next time you won’t let him in, you still do. And worst of all, even though you don’t want to admit it (you really don’t want to admit it), you will love him. You will love his mewls of “Jiminie” when you kiss his Adam’s apple, and you will love the way that after a great fuck his thumbs will tap at a million miles per second at the notes app, claiming that good sex inspires him. You will love him even when it seems like he doesn’t love himself.
Jimin learns that he will love you as he cries half naked on your bed because he can’t hide anymore. Behind closed doors and dimmed lights with your arms around his shoulders, he will love you. He will choke on his own tears and apologies while wearing only boxers, and he will fucking love you for kissing his knuckles and telling him how it’s going to be okay, you promise. Even when he screams that it’s not okay because he’s fucking gay, god damn it he’s fucking a gay behind his girlfriend’s back, he will love you for staying silent instead of urging him to break it off with her. And it may be sort of sick, but as you tangle your fingers into his hair you will begin to feel a strange sort of happiness. Maybe tonight will be the night he’ll finally realize he has loved his precious Jiminie this entire time. It’ll finally register in his stupid piece of shit brain that the answer to all his woes has been in the person he’s been using as fuck buddy for so many months. After crying himself dry, he will stare up at you like he can see all the constellations in your irises.
But Jimin learns he will continue love you in her eyes, and her eyes only.