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English
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Part 2 of (canon compliant, whatever that means)
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Published:
2023-09-02
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1,498
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1/1
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34
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tend to you

Summary:

Jimin's knuckles are bruised. Jungkook worries.

Notes:

I wrote this entirely at an airport waiting for a flight that fucked over the rest of my day, so fully believe when I say that this was my therapy

I was going to post it as a drabble on twitter but I cannot be fucked to format that this evening <3

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The beep beep of the keycode being punched in pierces through the silent apartment, and Jimin’s ears perk up.

"Jimin-ssi!"

Jungkook comes barreling in through the door, bringing noise and life and light with him. 

Jimin smiles. It’s his body’s instinctive reaction at this point—perceive Jungkook, smile. Can’t be helped. “In here.” 

Heavy shoes falling against the floor by the door, backpack thudding against the couch in the living room, jacket thrown over the kitchen table—

“Hey.” Right in his ear. He knows Jungkook's grinning from the sound of it alone. “You’re making a drink?”

“Making is a bit of a stretch. Just checking what I have.” 

“Is there some for me?” Little sniff of Jimin’s hair, as is customary, followed by a satisfied little hum. “Is there?” 

“Of course there is. Like I don’t know who I’m dealing with.” 

“I don’t know, maybe you forgot me.” Jimin waits until he's being turned around by the hips to roll his eyes. “Haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Two weeks,” Jimin specifies. 

“Yeah, ages.”

Spiky tufts of hair falling onto his forehead, a tiny zit peeking out—the confirmation that Jungkook is not, in fact, a flawless being. Jimin knows, but it's endearing anyway, same as the little scar on his cheek. Skin a little rosy, mouth a little shiny, pulled into a knowing smile and that double piercing. Jimin knows the taste of it, how cold it is against the softness of his lips. 

“Eyes up here, hyung.” 

He blinks. Not as immune as he claims to be. “Shh.” He grabs Jungkook's chin in his hand and pulls him down for a peck that lasts less than a second, just hello. “Whose fault is that?”

“What? I have work,” he says, pout and all, holding him back as Jimin tries to turn to the counter. “You know what that’s like.” 

“I know.” Pat pat on his chest, let me go. Jungkook steps back obediently, but grabs the glasses and bottle before Jimin can with a smug eyebrow raise, skipping out into the living room. 

Jimin and his smile follow. On his way to the couch, he turns off the big overhead lamps, leaving just the softer corridor light.

“Come sit,” Jungkook tells him, riffling through his backpack. “Sit!" He pats the space next to him, folding his legs and facing Jimin with an eager expression. “Give me your hands.”

“Hm?” He extends them to Jungkook, palms up. “Why?”

Jungkook turns them over with a gentle touch, immediately zeroing in on the bruises on his knuckles. 

Ah, Jimin's in for a scolding.

“Jimin-ssi." How Jimin loves that tone. “What’s this?” 

Jimin pretends not to understand. “Oh. From exercising.” 

“Yeah, you said,” Jungkook responds, running his hands gently over the red skin, “But this shouldn't happen! I showed you, didn’t I?” 

“Jungkook-ah,” Jimin pretends to whine, letting his head fall to the side of the couch. “I’m trying. Have mercy on a beginner."

“Jimin,” he says again, though the scolding is already melting away. It would be a shame, but it’s replaced by that sweet niggling worry that might be the one thing Jimin likes even better.  

Jungkook sets Jimin’s hands on his own lap, palms down. He reaches for something from behind him—it’s a jar with a label Jimin can’t quite read in this light, but it smells soft and lovely when Jungkook takes some on his fingertips.

“This is because you don’t wrap them properly. Your gloves are the right size, coach checked too, right?” He takes one hand in his and starts to spread the ointment with soothing presses all over the inflamed area. “ And you have to be careful with your stance. Improper stance can cause this, too. Tell coach next time to see if you can work out how to improve it together." He presses on a particularly sensitive spot and Jimin hisses a little. Jungkook goes tsk in response, smoothing over it once gently in apology. "But it can’t be too soon, you need to let this heal first! Don't even think about getting back into it before this has all gone, or I'm gonna have a word with coach too.” He looks up when Jimin can’t contain his little chuckle. “What?” 

“Nothing,” Jimin says around the fondest grin. “Do the other one.”

“I was just about to! You have to take your time with these things! This is why you haven’t been wrapping properly, I bet. Ah, too impatient.” He shakes his head. “You’re showing me how you do it before I go. I’ll correct you, okay?” 

“We have one night,” Jimin says, that warm feeling of being cared for snuggling around him like a blanket, “before you have to fly out for two more weeks, and you want to spend it giving me boxing pointers?”

“It won’t take long. I’m a good teacher.” He’s finished, so now he’s just holding Jimin’s hands in both of his, massaging firmly from palm to wrist. 

Jimin closes his eyes, focusing on the touch. He hates when they're not in the same city. He can feel a direct link to Jungkook’s empty house, the hollowness of it distracting. He likes Jungkook a phone call away at best. 

Jungkook doesn't like going abroad by himself either. Jimin had found him a jittery mess when he got to his room the eve of his debut in New York. He'd hugged him for so long they almost fell asleep like that, Jimin jet lagged and Jungkook exhausted from a sleepless night. 

But it can't be helped. This is just how it has to be, and they both have to be okay with it. He's here now, just for a few hours more, and still fussing over Jimin's hands. 

"Why did you let this get this bad, huh? This bled." A darting kiss to the spot, then a press to Jungkook's cheek, warm and soft. "It's scarred over, but I can tell."

“I’ve been practicing a lot."

"That much, in two weeks? They weren't like this  last I saw you."

"Have to work hard. That way, when you’re done with everything, I can finally take you on.” 

“Huh? That’s why?”

Really, Jimin needed a release, and plain old gym wasn't cutting it anymore. But more than that,  he'd promised he'd be Jungkook's partner a long time ago.

There's something pleasing about it, that anyone can look at their hands, matching rough knuckles, and know they've been together. Enough to mark, enough to show.

But there's guilt swimming in Jungkook's eyes right now, and Jimin can't have that. 

“I want to meet you on equal terms.” He leans closer with a smirk. There will be distance soon—no need for it here.  “Don’t go thinking you can beat me easily, Jeon Jungkook.” 

“You can’t spar me at all if you’re hurt,” he responds, leaning closer too. Their voices have lowered without even thinking, that unconscious hush that always forms between them. “Take care of yourself so I can beat you properly.” 

Jimin smirks. “I’ll win, teacher.” 

He won't. Jungkook always wins. 

“We’ll see.” 

Jimin grabs his shirt to pull him closer, but there's no need. As soon as the thought forms in Jimin’s head, Jungkook’s leaning in too, and they meet in the middle in a kiss as tender as Jimin’s bruised knuckles. 

“Mm, you lied,” Jungkook hums from way too close. “You started drinking without me.” 

Another smile surfaces, or maybe it's the same one, since it’s barely gone anywhere this entire time. “I’m always one step ahead.” Another kiss, longer, on an inhale, pulling Jungkook against him. “Doesn’t our Kookie know that by now?” 

“What happened to teacher?” 

“You want to talk boxing right now,” he scoots closer, enough to slip a hand into Jungkook’s hair, “or you want to kiss me goodbye?” 

“I just got here.” Jungkook presses their foreheads together. "Why goodbye? We have the whole night." He pulls Jimin closer by the waist, hand slipping under the shirt easily, still smelling softly of the cream. "I'll leave you the jar, okay? Use it for me. Don't forget. I'll know if you do, and—"

It's sweet, but Jimin wants to move on to other things already.

A calculated tug in his hair does the job. It's not strong enough to really hurt—just enough to make him hiss for a breath too. 

“So, boxing, or…” 

"Not like you're actually leaving me a choice." He's smiling when he leans in again, deeper than the intimate kisses of before. This one is to hold them over for the next two weeks of scattered texts and short calls, this one is maybe you forgot me, it's please don't

"If there's a choice between kissing me and another thing, do you really stop to actually consider?"

"Ah, you have a point." He drags his lips under Jimin's jaw, breath raising goosebumps all over his body. "You are always one step ahead after all."

Jungkook always wins, except when Jimin does. 

Notes:

I never planned to write canon compliant but jimin's knuckles hurt my tender heart

 

twt