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The party is louder than Jungkook expected.
Not that he's ever been to a New Year's Eve party before, but from the movies he's seen he kind of thought it would only be a normal house party, just with added sequins.
And while there certainly are sequins galore, nothing else about this is normal. This house is a goddamn mansion, for one thing. There’s a chocolate fountain and a cheese fountain, enough food to feed the entire block taking up two giant tables, along with whatever’s on the trays the staff keep carrying around. There’s staff. This is fucking crazy. Needless to say, Jungkook’s feeling slightly out of place.
He tugs at the turtleneck that’s tight around his throat and wishes for the tenth time this evening that he could be at home, in his pajamas. He’s never been one for this kind of revelry.
The food’s good, at least, so he’s parked himself by the buffet.
All his friends (bar one) are in this apartment somewhere, doubtlessly having a better time than him. But they don’t have access to the unlimited canapés, so Jungkook’s okay with it.
The guests keep coming in even though it's well after ten, noses red with the cold but with pretty thigh-slit dresses and low-cut, thin shirts sticking to their sculpted bodies. No one seems to share Jungkook’s fatigue. They all look ready to stomp the old year under their feet and watch it heave its last pathetic breath while they gracefully sip from their champagne flutes.
What the hell kind of house party has champagne flutes? How did Jungkook even end up here tonight?
"Jungkook-ah!"
Taehyung lands on his back, somehow managing not to spill a single drop of his drink in the process. He's drinking some sort of dark orange cocktail that matches his silk shirt, and already seems blissfully wasted. "Why are you sulking all by yourself?"
"Wasn’t sulking,” he says, readjusting Taehyung on his back so he doesn’t drop him with a hand under his thigh. “I was drinking. And observing." He drinks a sip of his glass, wine he abandoned half an hour ago to attack the petit fours, and winces. "See?"
"Is that red?" He smiles all wide. "You know red gets you drunk twice as fast. Drink up!" He pushes the glass up, forcing Jungkook to gulp it down quickly. "I want fun Jungkookie out tonight."
“Yeah, okay.” Jungkook lets him drop down, a little stung. "What are you drinking?"
"I don't know." He shrugs. "I asked the bartender," he turns and wiggles his fingers towards him, and the guy catches his eye and ducks his head with a little smile, "to give me whatever's prettiest. Here, try. It's got caramel in it!"
"Really?" Jungkook reaches for it and takes a sip. "Mmm, that's—fuck, that's good.”
So much better than the dry as fuck red. “Can I have one?"
Taehyung's eyes glint dangerously, with a smile to match. He pushes his own glass into Jungkook's hand as he strokes Jungkook's hair. "Sure thing."
And then it all gets fuzzy.
The party is no less loud, but it kind of becomes muffled under Jungkook's buzz. This cocktail is seriously so fucking good, and Tae gave the bartender he's been flirting with instructions to re-serve Jungkook on sight, so it's easy.
He feels a lot less out of place with it flowing through his system. He may not be as glamourous as these pretty people, but he can dance way better than them, so.
The music gets more lively the more the night goes on, and for once, Jungkook's into it. He dances with a delighted Taehyung for a while. Eventually, he’s abandoned, and when he looks up he sees him making out with the bartender against the wall, so it’s no wonder.
If Jimin were here, he wouldn’t leave Jungkook alone, he thinks, a little morose. But he just had to visit family the one year all the rest of them decided to stay back in Seoul for the holidays, when Jungkook was planning…well.
It’s just, he’s been living with this crush for way too long, and it’s becoming debilitating. Taehyung won’t stop teasing him about it, and knowing him, he can’t be trusted not to meddle, so Jungkook needs to take the situation into his own hands, or he’s risking total mortification.
It kind of sucks that he’ll have to carry this through to the next year, too; this uncertainty.
Whatever. It’s a party! It’s a party, and Jimin’s not here, so it can’t be helped.
He takes a sip from his drink—thank god he refilled before Taehyung went on the flirting offensive—and twirls around, trying to expel all Jimin thoughts from his head. But he does it too fast, stumbles—and spills half his drink onto someone.
"Oh my—fuck, I'm so sorry!"
He starts frantically patting at the person's torso, the white, quite see-through shirt and frowns when he notices a familiar tattoo.
"It's okay," he hears the sweet, warm voice. Jimin's looking down with an awkward smile, trying to assess the damage. "It's not like there's a lot of fabric on this, anyway." He lifts his eyes on the end of a breathless huff, and when they lock with Jungkook's, he feels like the giant ceiling high christmas tree from the corner landed right on his fucking head.
"Jimin?" he mutters, in awe, in confusion, in utter joy. "Jimin!"
"Hi, Kook-ah—oof!" Jungkook's crushed him in a hug already, capturing his arms at his sides. "Hey," he laughs, rocking them from side to side to try and wrap his arms around Jungkook too, "good to see you, too."
"You were supposed to be in Busan!" Jungkook steps back, head a little spinnier than before, especially looking at Jimin's sparkly make-up, his pretty smile, his see-through shirt, oh my god. "Right? Didn't I—I thought that was—"
"Right, but my parents decided to ditch me because their friends surprised them with an anniversary gift," Jimin says, untangling himself fully and picking the shirt away from his skin. "Damn, this is sticky."
"It's got caramel in it. Caramel syrup, or, I don't know. It's good. I've had, like, five."
Jimin smiles at him all sweet and sparkly again. "Ah, that's why you're like that."
"Like what?"
Jimin shakes his head, smile still in place. "Nothing. Can you show me where the bathroom is? I didn't have time to get the tour, and this place," he leans in to whisper with wide eyes, "is fucking massive."
"Right!" Jungkook exclaims. "I know! Namjoon hyung's rich friend. I don't remember his name." He leads Jimin to the bathroom with a hand on the small of his back. "A two-story apartment in the heart of the city, ceilings that high...guy must be rich-rich."
Jimin runs his fingers across the wall as they walk down the corridor, eyes wide. "Bet Yoongi-hyung's happy."
Jungkook snorts. "About the wainscooting, yeah. Not about Namjoonie-hyung palling around with this guy, though."
Jimin giggles, turning to him. "Scoting, Kook."
Jungkook smiles at the sound of Jimin's giggle. He missed him. "Huh?"
"Wainscoting."
"That's what I said!"
The bathroom they find is at the far end of the corridor, so the party noise is slightly muffled. Jungkook breathes a sigh of relief. "So," he sits down on the toilet, hands between his knees, "how was your trip?"
Jimin looks at him with an endeared little smile. "It was good. Mom says hi."
"Really?" Jungkook smiles wider. He likes Jimin's mom. They've never met in real life, but he's been there more than once when Jimin's facetimed her, so they know each other a bit, anyway. "Say hi back!"
Jimin chuckles. He looks around the room, hands on his hips. "You think rich guy's going to notice if I dirty his towel?"
Jungkook spots them first, on a high shelf. He leans on Jimin a bit, his chest brushing Jimin’s back as he hands it to him, "You're not going to shower, are you?"
"Almost. Just have to wipe this stickiness off me." He tries to unbutton his shirt, but seems to get stuck. "Fuck, these things." He huffs and puffs and drops his hands down with an annoyed little noise. "This shirt is a nightmare!"
Jungkook’s up again. "Let me see."
Jimin’s pretty white shirt has those velvet-covered things instead of simple buttons, and in the place of button holes there's tiny loops of elastic, almost impossible to stretch. Jimin's pouting at him. "See? It took me ages to get into it."
"Well," Jungkook says, mouth a little dry all of a sudden, "it looks really nice. You—it looks—you look great."
"I do?" Jimin mutters. "You like it?"
"Y-yeah." He frowns in concentration as he tries to open this stupid thing, so he doesn't pay attention to his words anymore. "You don't wear that much white, but it really lights you up, somehow. Like you've got a halo, or something. Aren't you cold? This is all, like, sheer." He manages one, cheeks warm. "Ah!" He catches Jimin's eye in triumph. "Getting there!" Jimin doesn't say anything, so Jungkook picks up right where he left off. These things really are super annoying. "Not that it's not pretty, especially because you can kind of see the tattoo," he manages another one, "yes! Wow, my fingers. And I don't get to see your tattoo a lot, so I like this. But not if you're cold. I can give you my shirt jacket, if you want. I let Tae tell me what to wear, so I'm overdressed, I think."
"You're not," Jimin says softly, reassuringly. "You look really handsome."
Jungkook's cheeks warm up even more, so he’s definitely cursing the turtleneck. "Ah, I don't...it's not something I'd wear by myself, but it's nice, right? For the occasion. New Year's Eve, and all that." Fuck, two more buttons left. It's unbuttoned all the way down to the middle of Jimin's torso, Jungkook's knuckles occasionally brushing against his skin. "Sorry if my hands are cold."
Jimin cups Jungkook's hands with his own. "There," he whispers, "better?"
"No, I…" Jungkook mutters, looking up to find Jimin really close, and wow, the air is instantly gone from the room. "I just meant for you."
"I'm not cold, either," Jimin says, and Jungkook's eyes fall on a flush of red on his chest, between the pretty fabric opened up by Jungkook's hands.
"Oh," he says, swallowing hard. "Good."
"Mm," Jimin says. "You said this thing has caramel in it?"
"Yeah."
"That's why it's so sticky.” He brings their joined hands to his skin, pushes Jungkook's hand there first, taking a hissed breath when he touches. "See?"
Jungkook's hand can cover most of Jimin's stomach like this, and isn't that a thought. Another thought compels him to let his hand travel higher, so he does—brushes higher up Jimin's chest, his pecs, tracing his collarbone, all the way up to the side of his neck…
Before he lets his hand drop.
He’s feeling fucking lightheaded. It feels like a dream, Jimin descending unto this party he wasn’t meant to be at all, pretty in white like an angel. Maybe Jungkook fell asleep on one of the hard velvet couches.
"I'll—" He grabs the towel and lets the water run until it gets warm. Jimin takes off the rest of his shirt over his head, and then he's standing there naked from the waist up and so, so pretty, and Jungkook’s suffering, because he knows how soft his skin is now. He can imagine what it would be like to trace it with his lips next, from Jimin’s stomach all the way up to his sensitive neck.
Jungkook needs to get himself under control. Why did he even follow Jimin in here? He didn't even think about it. He was so happy to see him again after two weeks away that he followed him into the tiny bathroom and is just standing here as he changes, like a total creep.
He wets the towel and turns back to him. "Here."
"Help me out?" Jimin says, leaning back against the sink.
"Help—um. Help you out, okay." He steps forward until he's between Jimin's legs and draws the wet towel over his skin slowly. "You tell me when it's okay."
Jimin's looking at him intensely, in this way they get caught into lately. Jungkook doesn't know where to focus, completely drawn in by the look in Jimin's eyes. This drink must have really done a number on him.
"I have your gift,” he blurts out, just to fill the tender silence. “Not with me, I mean, but at home."
Jimin blinks, eyelashes fluttering delicately over his cheekbones, the pretty blush there. "A gift?"
"For Christmas."
"But we exchanged our secret santa things before I left."
"Yeah, but I had Namjoon-hyung. I didn’t get to give you your gift."Jimin’s looking genuinely touched by this, so Jungkook hastens to add. "It's not a big deal.” He pulls the towel away. He runs his fingers over the slightly reddish skin again, to check, and finds it smooth and not sticky anymore. He nods to himself, satisfied, and then grabs Jimin's shirt off the floor. "Just a little thing. I just didn't get the chance to give it to you before you left for the holidays."
He runs the towel over the fabric too, but thankfully it doesn't seem to have retained any residue of the drink. He holds it up for Jimin, who seems frozen for a second before he slips it on.
"Still." His voice is low, incredulous. "You didn't have to. I didn't get you anything."
“It’s fine.”
Jungkook starts working on buttoning again, and this time it goes a lot quicker. "Here," he says. On a whim, he brushes his hand under Jimin's chin to get him to look up at him. He smiles at the confused little blink. "Good as new."
"Good as new," Jimin mutters, eyes falling from Jungkook's to land lower on his face. "Thanks."
The air’s gone again.
Just as Jungkook thinks he can move, just as he’s psyched himself up to take a step closer, there’s a violent knock on the door. Jimin jumps a little, hand instinctively reaching out to catch Jungkook's shirt.
"Anyone in there?" an excited voice comes through. "The countdown's started!"
Fuck, what? Last time Jungkook checked his phone it was barely ten thirty!
He turns wide eyes on Jimin. "Hyung, we'll miss the fireworks!" He grabs his wrist and throws the door open, and Jimin follows in a rush.
There's speakers on the walls connected to the tv, open to the news' programming that's doing the countdown, so they echo through all the corridors.
Ten! Nine!
“Shit,” Jimin laughs in his ear, tangling their fingers together for a more secure hold. “This place is a maze! Where’s the balcony?”
Jungkook turns to the left, and sees a bunch of people converging on the some glass doors on the other side of the room—a room he hadn’t even been in yet—so he follows.
Push through the people too drunk to care about the new year, grinding on each other on the dance-floor—
Eight! Seven!
Step out into the balcony, filled with freezing, loud, pretty people all counting down in unison—
Six! Five!
Jimin’s small, so if they want a proper look at the fireworks they need to be in the front. Push through, push through—
Four!
Jimin's hand slips from Jungkook's grasp.
Three!
Jungkook reaches back and pulls him in hard, to make sure momentum carries him through the pulsing crowd.
Two!
Jimin lands in his embrace, eyes a little wild, arms around Jungkook's neck.
One!
Just as the fireworks explode in one big beautiful rush, Jimin kisses him.
There's other people kissing around them, of course—it's tradition. A small kiss, a laugh, and then you hug your friends, you see the fireworks, you finish your drink.
But Jimin’s still on his tip-toes, chest brushing Jungkooks, kissing kissing kissing him.
Cheers of "happy new year!" are being heard from all around them, they're being jostled from people trying to pass, to hug.
But they're still here.
Jimin’s really kissing him—it’s not some tiny peck, it’s a proper heart and soul kiss. Jungkook can tell, because his heart is beating harder than it ever has, and his soul ascends and resinks into his body with every brush of Jimin’s lips.
“Happy new year, lovebirds!”
Taehyung jumps on Jimin’s back this time. Jimin turns his bright-eyed smile towards him and pulls him in for a hug with a hand on the nape of his neck.
“Happy new year, babe,” Jimin says, dropping a big kiss on Taehyung’s lips too. This one’s nothing like the one he gave Jungkook, though—it’s short and loud, a solid peck that leaves Taehyung chuckling with those signature Jimin heart eyes before he turns to Jungkook.
"What's with that look?" Taehyung says with à strong pinch to his cheek. "Did he kiss you stupid?"
Jungkook flushes from his head to his toes, darting a nervous look at Jimin. He finds him beaming, eyes disappeared into his grin. His arm snakes around Jungkook’s waist, pulling him closer to his side. He bites his bottom lip, pretty and red-kissed, and raises his eyebrows at Jungkook.
“Wait one second,” Jungkook says, lifting a finger to Tae’s offended face. He cups Jimin’s smiling cheeks between his hands and pulls him in for another kiss, fireworks still exploding in his stomach just as they had in the Seoul night sky.
Jimin kisses him back happily, brings his hand to Jungkook’s cheek too—then stands there and giggles with utter joy as Jungkook pecks and pecks him, his lips, his cheek, ending with a final kiss on his neck before he hides his flushed face and desperately embarrassed chuckle there.
"Yah!” Taehyung exclaims, punching Jungkook's arm.
Jimin’s fingers tangle in his hair. “You’ll really leave Tae hanging like this?” he murmurs in his ear with a smiling voice.
He presses his forehead into Jimin’s neck, breathes him in, in, in. “I need a second.”
What. The. Fuck.
He resurfaces with another big breath and thrusts his palm at Taehyung, who had been waiting with his eyebrow raised. “Happy new year. Thanks for getting me drunk.”
Taehyung catches his hand and shakes it for all of one second, before he bursts out laughing and pulls him in for a big hug. “Happy new year, stupid!”
He pulls back and looks between them with a proud grin, one hand on each of their shoulders. “You’ll tell me all about it later,” he demands, “but for now I’ve got to go find the others. I think it’s not too late to claim a new year's kiss from Hoseokie-hyung.”
“What about that guy you were sucking face with?”
“He’s hot,” Taehyung says with a shrug, “but he’s not Hoseokie-hyung. Bye!”
He disappears as quickly as he had appeared, and then it’s just Jimin, Jungkook, and the fireworks.
Jungkook exhales a little shakily, coming down from the high, eyes locked on Jimin's sparkling ones.
Jimin steps closer so their fronts are pressed together instead of their sides, hugging Jungkook around the waist. “Happy new year, Jungkook-ah,” he says gently, almost shyly now.
Jungkook’s fucking mesmerised, at this point. The cocktail buzz faded from all the adrenaline of rushing to make the countdown, but he’s dizzy, lips tingling from Jimin’s kiss.
“Happy new year.”
He smiles when Jimin pushes up again to put his forehead against Jungkook’s. “Can I kiss you again, or you want to wait until next year?”
Jungkook lets out a shuddery exhale, “Now.”
“Now?” Jimin smirks up at him, brushing the tips of their noses together. “You’re sure?”
“Please.”
“You know, they say that whatever you’re doing when the year changes is symbolic,” he licks his lips, so, so close, “about how the rest of the year is going to go.”
“Does that mean I’ll get to kiss you all the time?”
“If you believe that kind of thing,” Jimin says, lips brushing together now, sending goosebumps raising all over Jungkook's arms. The balcony’s pretty much emptied out now, everyone probably having gone inside for more drinks. “Do you?”
“Definitely. For sure. Whatever.” Jimin laughs, and Jungkook smiles with him, rocking them from side to side a little.
Jimin's letting himself be swayed, seemingly content to just stand here and look into Jungkook's eyes like that's a thing they do. It's making Jungkook shy, all of a sudden, so he ducks his head down to huddle into Jimin's neck, just like before. "Hyung, please.” He’s grasping at that sheer material of white shirt, brushing his lips against the sensitive spot under Jimin's jaw.
“Come back up here,” Jimin says breathlessly, and Jungkook listens.
The wind is biting, the festivities from the streets are reaching all the way up here, the yelling, the car honking, loud welcoming in of the new year, but Jungkook doesn’t feel any of it. He’s warmed up by Jimin laughing prettily into his mouth, his hands framing Jungkook’s cheeks, and he wishes with all of his might for that silly superstition to be true.
And if it’s not, Jungkook will make it so anyway.