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“Hyung, I’m bored,” Jimin declares loudly that it catches Hoseok’s attention immediately. He doesn’t actually need to say it out loud, Hoseok thinks, since the emotion is clearly evident on his face.
Hoseok glances at him momentarily and hums in response, not wanting to get up. He’s not usually the type to just lie down on the practice room’s floor and sleep to pass the time, but after consecutive weeks of practice for their dance team’s upcoming performance, he’s really worn out. The other members of the team have already left, but he’s chosen to stay, wanting to perfect his solo part. Now, however, the tiredness is starting to creep in to his bones, and he feels like wanting to just lie down there and never get up. Everybody knows what stress can do to a person.
“Hyung, really. We should do something.” Well, probably everybody that isn’t Park Jimin. He lets Jimin’s voice drone out and pretend that it’s just background noise, resolute that maybe if he doesn’t move that much, Jimin would think he’s dead and wouldn’t bother with him anymore.
Hoseok is near the verge of falling asleep, the arm slung over his stomach dangerously close to falling back on the floor, when he feels a hand tugging at his arm. He promptly ignores it, pushing the thought of grabbing Jimin’s hand and making him sit still on the floor, knowing well that that just couldn’t possibly stop the younger from bothering him at all. Then warm fingers close around his ankles, shaking them left and right. It’s annoying, really, but he thinks he can ignore it. But his resolve lasts only up until Jimin decides to shake him awake by the shoulders, determinedly set on pestering him.
“Hyung, let’s play a game!” Jimin insists, and even though Hoseok’s eyelids are only halfway open, he knows that when Jimin decides what’s at stake during a game, it’s not really going to be that much of a favorable condition for him.
He rubs at his eyes groggily, squinting as he tries to adjust his eyesight with the light. He doesn’t ask Jimin why he’s decided to stay behind when he just could’ve left first along with the others, because he’d just probably answer with that sweet smile of his, and every bullshitted word that comes out of his mouth thereafter would sound like the exact right ones to Hoseok, so he just holds his tongue and asks a different question. “What do you want to do then?” he yawns, stretching his arms out wide.
Jimin tosses him something, and he’s barely able to catch it, still too tired to be able to process entirely what it’s in the plastic. It’s a sandwich, just a plain ham and egg one that’s enough for a snack, and Hoseok munches on it, happy for the meal. “I was going to suggest that we have an eating contest, but okay.”
“I’m hungry,” Hoseok says around a mouthful of the food. “And it tastes nice.”
“Ha,” Jimin says, but doesn’t completely laugh. He’s smiling now, and it’s clearly evident that he was the one who made the sandwich, his lips twitching as he tries to stifle his grin because of the praise.
Jimin sits beside him, a bottle of water in hand. He hands it to Hoseok, who takes it gratefully. “You look pissed.”
“I don’t.” Hoseok says, his eyes trained at the ground. “I’m just tired. This is my tired face, not my resting bitch face.” He is, really, but he’s also pissed at himself because he couldn’t seem to make the perfect routine that would fit the gap between his solo and the whole team’s performance, and he’s starting to get even more annoyed at himself for still not being able to completely finish the choreography even when the deadline that their team’s captain has set is just around the corner.
“Yeah…” Jimin nods his head, a dubious look on his face. It’s like he could read through Hoseok’s every action, and it’s quite unnerving sometimes. “Sure.” Hoseok curses himself for not being able to lie better.
Jimin reaches out for his bag and takes out a pack of cards, quickly shuffling the deck in his hands. Hoseok doesn’t ask why he’s brought cards when they’re supposed to be practicing dance routines instead of having recreational games. “Let’s have a bet.”
“What kind of bet?”
Jimin hands him the deck. “Let’s do it this way: I’ll pick five cards out of the deck, and if one of them is a joker, I win. If I don’t, then you win.”
Hoseok grunts, taking the deck from Jimin. He shuffles them again, because who knows what tricks Jimin has up his sleeve just so he could win this? “Let’s do it for three.”
“Five!” Jimin protests. There’s a pout that’s about to appear on his face, so Hoseok tries to appease it with a hesitant, “Three and a half…?”
“Hyung!” And this time Jimin really does pout. Hoseok hates it—hates how he’s so vulnerable to Jimin’s pouts and how he couldn’t even deny Jimin of anything, not being able to know how to say no to Jimin’s requests, no matter how odd they get sometimes.
“Okay, okay, five. What’s the punishment for the loser?”
There’s a manic gleam in Jimin’s eyes when Hoseok asks this, but it’s hidden underneath that charming smile that Hoseok has fell fond of, no matter how many times he denies it with himself. And really, he’s always been useless as a liar. “Whoever loses will serve as the winner’s slave for a week. Do we get a deal?”
Of course Hoseok agrees, telling himself that it’s because he doesn’t much of a choice to begin with, more than anything.
The tension in the room rises along as Jimin flips open each of the cards he’s chosen, and Hoseok’s jaw falls slack when the fourth card is opened to reveal a red joker card. Jimin whoops in delight, cheering that he’s won over his hyung. The card seems to be sneering up at Hoseok, laughing at his misfortune.
“It’s okay hyung, it’s only a week.” Jimin laughs, and Hoseok feels doomed now that he’s going to be a slave to someone who’s younger than him, not to mention that it’s Park Jimin. He picks up the card, about to go on with his dramatics of fake crying (even though he does feel particularly sorry for himself), when he notices something odd with the card.
“You cheated!” he declares, stretching his arm out so that the card right is only a few inches from Jimin’s face.
“I did not!” Jimin denies indignantly. He crosses his arms together, eyebrows furrowed together.
“You did! There’s a fold on the card!” Hoseok points to the corner of the card where sure enough, a crease has formed.
Jimin drops his fake act of anger, at least decent enough to look embarrassed. “Ok I might have… rigged the results a bit…”
“Jimin!”
“Okay then, let’s do this again,” Jimin crosses his legs together, shifting from his position on the floor so that he’s more comfortable. “Let’s have a staring contest instead.”
Hoseok looks at Jimin dubiously. It seems like Jimin’s planning something, but with that smile on his face, Hoseok couldn’t possibly doubt him that much. “The same punishment applies?”
“Of course!” If Jimin were a character in a show, Hoseok is sure that he’s going to turn his head to face the camera, a sly smile on his face and gremlin-like sounds of laughter coming out of his mouth. But what Jimin does is smile at him brightly like he usually does, and Hoseok knows that no matter how many times he flips the situation, there’s really no way out of this.
Hoseok sighs. It’s not like he’s doing this because he can’t say no to Jimin—definitely not. “Okay, fine.” Hoseok says, trying to stifle his yawn. It’s been a long and tiring day, and he would’ve rather had a stress-free night, but it’s Jimin, and he’s grown too fond of the kid to say no. “I bet you’re going to lose, anyway.”
“Ha, as if! I’m the master when it comes to things like this!” Jimin boasts, puffing his chest out. Hoseok just laughs and waves his hand in dismissal at this despite Jimin’s protests, and scoots closer to where Jimin’s sitting.
They sit facing each other, legs crossed in front of them that their knees are almost touching. When the game’s started, it doesn’t take that long before Jimin’s eyes are starting to water, his eyelids dangerously close to fluttering shut. Hoseok laughs despite the sting he’s feeling behind his own eyelids. “Give it up already, Park Jimin. You know you’re going to lose. Why don’t you give up already?”
Jimin knits his brows together, deep in concentration. “Because I haven’t failed yet. I only lose after I fail, right? There’s no guarantee that you’re going to win just because you’re at an advantage.” The way Jimin is concentrating doesn’t exactly bother Hoseok even when he’s mostly used to Jimin being bouncy and energetic, laughing along to all of his antics, knowing that Jimin has always been the competitive type of person. However, with the serious set of Jimin’s jaw and the intensity of his gaze, something tells Hoseok that to him, this isn’t just about winning.
“You sure about that?” Hoseok teases Jimin some more. Jimin’s nose twitches and he purses his lips, his annoyance evident. Hoseok likes how expressive Jimin is, emotions quickly taking over his facial features that he finds it adorable, really.
But Jimin leans in closer in looking at Hoseok in the eye. “Yes.” Their faces are only a few centimeters apart that Hoseok could smell a hint of the ham and egg sandwich that Jimin must have been eating while he had been practicing, but he isn’t exactly bothered by that. Rather, it’s the fact that even though this isn’t the first time that Jimin has completely just looked into his eyes, this is the first time that their faces are this close. And this up-close, only a bump away from each other, Hoseok couldn’t help but finally admit to himself why he’s always liked Park Jimin even though he doesn’t like to say it at all. He’s not really good of a liar, after all.
So Hoseok takes advantage of the situation and leans closer, bridging the gap between their lips, his eyes closing as he feels the softness of Jimin’s lips on his own. Before everything, he gets a glimpse of Jimin’s eyes widening in surprise, and even though he feels Jimin stiffening at the suddenness of his actions, Jimin doesn’t move away. The frustrating thing about it, however, is that he doesn’t move at all.
Hoseok pulls back to gauge Jimin’s reaction, ready to apologize when it’s needed and take everything back, but Jimin only says. “You closed your eyes.” Jimin blinks, the water that has started forming in his eyes from not blinking for a long time running down his cheeks. He still looks dumbfounded, and Hoseok isn’t sure if that’s a good thing or not. “You closed your eyes and I didn’t so it means that I win and you lose.”
Hoseok just laughs good-naturedly, even when he feels disappointment clinging at his sleeves. They could pretend that this never happened at all so they could keep their friendship, but Hoseok isn’t sure whether he’d rather try to fix the awkward tension between the two of them or lie to himself that nothing ever happened at all. “Then, what do you want me to do as my first task, master?”
Jimin takes hold of Hoseok wrist, and the shy smile that starts to form on his lips makes Hoseok feel heat creeping up his face. “Kiss me again.”
Hoseok doesn’t hesitate at all, tilting Jimin’s jaw and leaning in closer, placing butterfly kisses on his lips. Jimin smiles in the middle of it all, because even though Hoseok lost the bet, he seems too happy to comply.