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They spent most of the day in Halloween costumes, walking around the district and enjoying the freedom of anonymity so much that they’re still a little high on it.
Now they’re back in their hotel room but the adrenaline just won’t go away, making them giggle as they talk on the bed, eyes wide open, staring at each other and whispering as if they’re not the only people here.
As if raising their voices would break the spell.
It was fun. So much fun. Walking through the sea of people pretending that they aren’t who they are, that their lives aren’t what they are. And don’t get Jungkook wrong, he absolutely loves his life and his members and the fateful day he decided to join their company.
But sometimes, yeah.
Sometimes he wishes he could just feel his feelings without having to worry about camera lenses pointed at him all day, every day.
“School your expression, Jungkook.”
“Don’t stare for too long, Jungkook.”
“Get a hold of yourself, Jungkook.”
Tonight, though... Tonight is different.
Tonight he gets to stare and feel and let go, not worrying about corridor whispers or NDAs, not a care in the world – except maybe getting to the airport in time for their flight tomorrow.
Jimin giggles his way through the story of the girl who asked him for a picture because of his costume, not because of who he is in real life. Jungkook giggles in return because Jimin’s giggles are beautiful and contagious.
And he stares.
And he feels.
And suddenly, he can’t keep it inside anymore.
“Hyung, I’m in love with you,” he says, blinks, and covers his ears with his hands in embarrassment.
Jimin blinks too, once, twice, then he smiles his pretty smile, lips and cheeks and pretty, pretty eyes.
“I know.”
He does?
“You do?”
Jimin snickers.
Something like shame runs through Jungkook. It’s not a bad feeling. It’s something he has come to associate with Jimin’s teasing yet caring nature. He’ll mock you just before he helps you because that’s who he is. The hyung Jungkook looks up to.
The one he loves.
“Of course I do, dummy,” Jimin says. “You planned a whole romantic trip to another country for the two of us, walks through Shibuya and Omotesando, Disneyland, just the one hotel room…” Jimin smiles, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. The tips of Jungkook’s ears feel like they are on fire. “You’re not very subtle.”
“I–” Jungkook huffs, his cheeks puffing out without meaning to. “Ah hyung, I’m embarrassed now.”
Jimin laughs, clear and chiming like crystal bells. “Well, don’t be, Gguk, it’s adorable. You’re adorable.”
He cups Jungkook’s cheek, runs his thumb over Jungkook’s cheekbone and Jungkook melts into the touch. Then there’s silence, just two boys sharing a hotel bed in the middle of the night, no one to judge them, nowhere to hide. And Jungkook feels. He feels so, so much. But maybe Jimin…
“You don’t feel the same way, do you?” Jungkook asks around the heart-shaped lump in his throat.
Jimin winces. Jungkook’s heart stops–
“Would it help if I told you that I used to?”
–then starts again at twice its normal speed.
“What? When?”
“I… kind of liked you ever since we were trainees, long before I realized that the way I liked you was, you know…” He pauses, gesturing vaguely. “Romantic.”
Jungkook hums, nods, his heart aching a little.
“But you don’t anymore.”
And now he’s pouting. Of course he is. Why the hell is he being so childish? Jimin is smiling, though. He always smiles when he looks at Jungkook.
He always has.
“I convinced myself years ago that I had to try to let you go, so I did. But I wasn’t counting on you growing up to be the flirtiest little maknae!” Jimin slaps Jungkook’s arm like he always does. It stings, but it’s also familiar.
Like Jimin’s rejection.
Like Jungkook’s broken heart.
“I only ever flirt with you,” Jungkook blurts out. Jimin licks his lips and smiles.
“I know, baby,” he says. Goosebumps. Butterflies. “I’ve always known.”
They sleep after that, no more words, no need for questions neither of them knows how to answer.
A new day finds them tangled up in each other, Jungkook’s forehead on Jimin’s chest, a mess of limbs, knees and blankets. Jungkook breathes Jimin in once and then pushes himself off the bed, a little dizzy from getting up so suddenly. A little cold. A little sad.
He takes a shower and Jimin follows right after, already awake when Jungkook comes out of the bathroom. Jungkook stares. Jimin smiles. And they don’t talk about it.
They get ready, have breakfast, do some last-minute shopping, and then go to the airport. They leave the country and still don’t talk about it.
But something has shifted between them.
It’s nothing big, nothing other people would be able to see right away. But it’s there. In the way Jimin’s eyes linger on him a beat longer than they used to, the way Jungkook finds the crook of Jimin’s neck to recharge after doing this idol thing or that.
It’s there in the same way that seasons change, winter one day, spring the next, making everything blossom without much warning. Steady. Inevitable…
But they don’t talk about it.
Days turn into weeks and they don’t.
Autumn turns to winter and they don’t.
Then spring comes wordlessly.
***
It’s almost a year later when things change once again.
Jungkook suffers an injury just before a concert, he needs stitches and can’t perform.
Jimin never leaves his side.
“I came running. I thought you’d be crying,” Jimin says, a little distraught, obviously over-conscious of the cameras on them.
“I almost did,” Jungkook admits, also minding the cameras.
He’s allowed to be vulnerable for their audience, he knows that. But he also knows that if he shows too much vulnerability, their fans will worry. He doesn’t want them to worry any more than they already have.
So he doesn’t cry during the preparations and he doesn’t cry when he’s wheeled out to the main stage – because the venue is too big and the doctors don’t want him putting pressure on his injured heel. He doesn’t even cry when he has to perform his solo song without backup dancers, sitting on a high chair in the middle of the stage while their fans scream and sing along to show support.
No, he doesn’t cry.
But then the group performances move too far from where his makeshift seat is fixed to the stage and he truly, absolutely realizes that he’s here, injured and alone, sitting when he should be dancing, disappointing thousands of fans who came from all around the world just to see him perform.
He cries then, his chair turned away from the audience, elbows on his knees and hands holding his head.
He points his mic away and sobs, broken and hurt, everything hitting him at once: the injury, the loneliness, the disappointment. All the ways he could have been more careful, the fact that this won’t go away in a day or two.
“Two weeks, give or take,” said their medic.
Two weeks of this, of sitting through their concerts, of not giving his all to their fans.
So he cries at last, loud enough for him to hear over the roar of the crowd and the music coming through the one earpiece he’s still wearing. He cries and cries and cries… until someone puts a hand on his shoulder, lips to his ear, a smile in their voice,
“Jungkook-ah, are you crying?” Jimin. Of course it’s Jimin. “Don’t cry, Jungkook-ah. They love you. We love you.”
He wants to say something. He wants to say, “Hyung, I’m not crying, I’m fine. Please go back to the stage.” But he can’t, his throat constricted, his heart aching. Feeling small, so, so small.
“I’m sorry,” is what he says, choked up with emotion. “Hyung, I’m really so sorry.”
In a very Jimin fashion, Jimin coos and crouches in front of him, a bright smile on his face.
“Don’t cry, silly. We love you. We love you,” he says in between his lines of the song, gently cradling Jungkook’s head and turning the chair so he can face the audience again.
They’re still cheering him on. They’re still there, singing and jumping and having a good time.
“They love you. We love you.” Jimin’s words ring in Jungkook’s ears. And it’s true. He knows this, even if he momentarily forgot it.
“Does it hurt?” Jimin asks after Jungkook pads his face with a towel. He crouches down next to Jungkook, still close, still there with him.
“It doesn’t,” Jungkook says and Jimin smiles. He stands up, pats Jungkook’s head and keeps dancing around his fixed chair.
He only leaves when Taehyung comes to take his place, then Jungkook decides to get up and walk to where his members are. Jimin is there, always around, always close.
And when Jungkook breaks down again during his ending ment, Jimin is there for him too.
***
“Do you want me to stay with you tonight? You know, in case you need anything.”
The offer comes after everyone else is gone, just Jimin and Jungkook in Jungkook’s hotel room.
Jungkook blinks away the confusion, clears his throat and wills his heart to stay still because this means nothing. This is just his hyung being nice after hearing Jungkook act like a child when the doctor was stitching his heel. Everyone heard him: the members, the staff and the camera people. It was so embarrassing.
“It’s okay, hyung. I’m fine. You don’t have to,” he says. He doesn’t want to cause any more trouble and he definitely doesn’t need Jimin’s pity.
Jimin smiles.
“I know that. But I want to.” He takes Jungkook’s hand in his and strokes the skin with his thumb. “Don’t be prideful and let hyung help you, yeah?”
It takes exactly three seconds of Jimin’s puppy eyes for Jungkook to agree. Because he’s a weak, weak man – and still stupidly in love too.
Jimin cheers. Jimin hugs him. Jimin apologizes after hitting Jungkook’s injured foot with his knee…
And Jimin stays.
He wants to sleep on the suite’s couch, but Jungkook will have none of it.
(“I don’t want to hurt you in my sleep!”
“You won’t! And if you do, I’ll just kick you out.”
“Not with that injured heel, Jungkook-ssi.”)
He stays that night and the night after that. Then the next and the next and several nights after that.
Every night Jungkook offers him a way out by saying he’s fine. Every night he’s dismissed with a smile, a “It’s hyung’s pleasure” or a “Please, let hyung help.”
Two weeks later, morning finds Jungkook waking up in Jimin’s arms, his back to Jimin’s chest, Jimin’s soft lips pressed to Jungkook’s nape in his sleep.
This is Jungkook’s life now, waking up the little spoon of the one he loves, their legs tangled under the covers, Jimin’s arm around his waist and his hand splayed on Jungkook’s chest.
Jungkook tries not to stir, basking in the moment, the little pocket of time when he can pretend that this is more than a temporary arrangement brought to him by fate and a misplaced nail on the floor.
With Jimin glued to his back and sleeping soundly behind him, Jungkook wishes he was brave.
Brave like the kid he was a year ago, confessing his feelings with a trip and late-night whispers, taking rejection in stride because he knew that real life wasn’t like the movies and that wanting someone doesn’t mean they’ll want you back.
But he isn’t.
He can’t take another heartbreak – not from Jimin anyway. He laid his heart out for Jimin to see, for Jimin to graciously reject. And it was fine, seriously, it was. Because Jimin never treated him differently. They were the same and that was enough.
They were enough.
Until he started waking up every day to Jimin’s body heat, Jimin’s sleepy whimpering and Jimin’s lips on his neck. Full of him, surrounded by him, Jungkook wasn’t brave enough to confess to his hyung again. Wrapped in Jimin’s arms, Jungkook felt safe. But that wouldn’t last.
Except, it did. It does.
Jungkook’s injury heals and Jimin is still there. His stitches are gone and Jimin is still there. He is back to the dance line – both during practice and in front of their fans – and Jimin, well…
“You’re still here,” Jungkook blurts out on their first night in Japan for their Tokyo concerts.
They’re lying in bed, Jungkook’s head propped up with pillows, Jimin’s head on Jungkook’s stomach, both scrolling through their phones as they wait for room service to arrive.
He’s looking at Jimin but Jimin isn’t looking back, his eyes focused on the screen as he says,
“We’re having dinner together, duh.”
“No, that’s not…” Jungkook leans back and Jimin follows the lead, brow slightly furrowed as he sits with his legs crisscrossed, close enough to look each other in the eye. “That’s not what I mean.”
“Then what is it?” Jimin asks as he pockets his phone.
Jungkook struggles to find the right words, not because he doesn’t know what to say, but because he can’t believe it took him this long to figure it out. Blame it on the jet lag and the hectic idol lifestyle – or blame it on Jungkook’s own obliviousness.
“I healed,” he says. “I’m fine.”
“I can see that.” Jimin nods. “So?”
“So…” Jungkook licks his lips, swallows and sighs. It’s now or never, Jungkook-ah. “Why are you still sleeping with me every night?”
Jimin blinks, his lips form a silent “Oh” and then he smiles, pretty cheeks and pretty eyes.
“Because I might want to be together.” Jungkook’s heart skips a beat. “Or rather… Do you want to be?”
“B-be what?”
“Together, Gguk!” Jimin teases, a silent blush spreading across his cheeks. “As in, with me,” he says, and that… It sounds like a question.
Jungkook hesitates. “But… before?”
“What about before?”
“You said you didn’t like me anymore.”
Jimin cups Jungkook’s face in his hands.
“I said I used to like you and that I tried to move on. But…” Eyes on Jungkook’s eyes, face so, so close. Jungkook’s heart doesn’t have any more beats to skip.
“But?”
Jimin’s eyes smile.
“But I never said I tried hard enough.”
Oh.
It’s unclear who makes the first move, but someone certainly does.
It’s also unclear how they manage to get enough kissing out of their system before room service knocks on the door, but they do that too.
Then they have dinner together. Giggly, overexcited, and a little clumsy in the way they keep trying to get their hands on each other – but that’s simply who they are.
So, when they keep sleeping together, no one really mentions it. When they start calling each other “boyfriend” and look for an apartment together, no one mentions it either.
And when they get a month’s vacation and Jimin comes all the way back from Paris to buy Jungkook a cake, sing him happy birthday and spend the night with him just before leaving for Hawaii to meet up with his friends, well…
No one mentions it, full stop. Because it’s not like anything has really changed between them.