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"I can't do this," Jimin wants to scream at the top of his lungs, yet it comes out as the quietest whisper. "I just- I just can't."
"Hey, hey, come here," Taehyung whispers back, a gentle warmth in his voice. He looks exhausted, standing in the doorframe to his hotel room wearing the hotel robe, it is four-fifteen a.m. after all. He soothes Jimin gently, rubbing his back once he's wrapped up in his arms, face hidden in his robes, his warm breath on Taehyung's bare chest between the opening of the towel garment.
"Others might ask, 'What's wrong?' but Taehyung knows better.". He knows that Jimin can't answer that question. Jimin doesn't fucking know. All he knows is that it hurts. It hurts everywhere, yet he feels numb. His mind races at a million miles an hour while simultaneously immobilising him to the spot. He can't move. He can't breathe. He can't fucking breathe.
It's not that Taehyung has never witnessed Jimin suffer this type of emotional breakdown; however, it's been quite some time.
But the thing is, Jimin can never tell when it’s coming. Just a few days ago, he was on top of the world, buzzing with energy, ideas flying through his mind faster than he could catch them. He was invincible. He danced on stage, his body moving effortlessly, his voice strong, his smile real.
He remembers that high. How everything felt so right, so possible. He stayed up all night planning projects, jotting down lyrics, feeling like he could conquer anything. The adrenaline coursing through him, making him believe that this time, the happiness might stay.
But it never does.
And now, he’s here. Crumpled, broken. Unable to move, unable to breathe. The fall is always so sudden, so sharp. One moment, he’s on top of the world, and the next, he’s buried under it. The contrast is staggering.
It’s the unpredictability that terrifies him the most. He can never trust his own thoughts. Never know if the happiness he occasionally feels is real or just a prelude to another crash. Even now, in the safety of Taehyung’s arms, there’s a part of him that’s afraid to relax, afraid to let go, because what if it all comes crashing down again?
"Come on, baby," Taehyung mumbles, kissing the top of his head and closing the door behind them.
The room looks neat and untouched, as if no one is even staying in it, which indicates that Taehyung was so tired after the show that he didn't even unpack his night bag or play video games to unwind. Even his bed is made, meaning that Taehyung was so tired he fell asleep before even getting under the covers. Great. Extra guilt can be added to the list of unpleasant emotions Jimin is feeling.
"Here, let's just sit for a minute," Taehyung says, his tone quiet; careful, as he gently guides Jimin to sit at the end of his bed. "Sweetheart," he whines, combing Jimin's hair back off his face, then kissing him on the forehead.
It's so awful.
Jimin leans into his best friend's embrace and cries. The pain of being so unbearably sad when there's nothing wrong is such a mind fuck. Yeah, sure, depressive episodes and shit, but how can it be so sudden? Only days ago, he was dancing on stage, singing his heart out, throwing water bottles at Jungkook, and blaming it on Seokjin. He was happy.
Then, without warning, he just dropped.
The best thing about Taehyung's unique nature is that he never feels the need to fill the silences or awkward moments with futile words of comfort or questions trying to coax Jimin into some sort of amateur therapy session. He can simply sit for hours, carding his fingers through Jimin's hair or holding him in his arms and rocking them, like a slow dance, creating a steady rhythm that Jimin can relax into and simply allow himself to be led.
Taehyung somehow just knows what to do.
"It's late," Jimin hiccups, knowing well that Taehyung won't let him leave in this state, but still, he at least wants to offer to let Taehyung sleep.
Taehyung hums, "Yeah." He kisses Jimin on the forehead again, sighing when Jimin leans into it. "I'll be right back."
Jimin waits as Taehyung rustles around in the bathroom. His elbows dig into his knees, and the heels of his palms press almost uncomfortably into his eye sockets. The sobs have stopped, and now he's just tired. It's a strange fatigue, though. It's more like his mind is finally catching up with his body. Maybe after what feels like an eternity, his racing thoughts have finally given in and retreated to a more gentle pace.
Taehyung pads silently back to the bed with a washcloth and a clean t-shirt. "Up," he says, gently nudging Jimin's arms. He pulls off Jimin's hoodie and slides one of his super soft cotton shirts over his head. Jimin inhales deeply, adoring the smell of Taehyung on his clothes. "Close your eyes," Taehyung whispers against Jimin's knuckles, his hands engulfed in Taehyung's warm and big ones, kneeling on the floor in front of him, before gently passing the damp washcloth over his face. As if washing away some of the pain, and Jimin, for a second, does feel a sense of calm wash over him.
There's something about Taehyung and how incredibly kind he is. Here he is in the middle of the night just looking after Jimin. No questions asked. There's never any hesitation or sign of bother at having been woken up and essentially demanded by someone who, for some unknown reason, decided to fall apart. His touch is so soft and caring. A soothing balm on Jimin's aching soul . The simple gesture of Taehyung taking care of him makes Jimin feel as if a tiny part of the weight has in fact been lifted.
Once Jimin's skin feels clean and relieved from all tear stains, Taehyung silently gets to his feet again and returns to the bathroom. "Here," he murmurs a moment later, placing a glass of cold water in his hands. Jimin looks up at him, the soft lightning of the bedside lamps creating an orange hue that blankets his face in a warm glow. Soft, unruly curls frame his face, making him look younger and more angelic than usual. Dark reading glasses perched on the edge of his nose, rendering him effortlessly handsome.
After realising that he is staring at Taehyung, Jimin feels his cheeks heat up and he lowers his gaze. He forces his fingers to cooperate and takes the glass of water. The coolness washes down his throat, and he suddenly realises how thirsty he was and that he really should listen to his body more. His shoulders rise and fall with each deep breath, and at last he almost feels alive again, or more like living isn't such a challenge.
The thing with depressive episodes is they leave Jimin feeling so incredibly exhausted. So drained he can hardly talk; he can't muster the energy to even move. It's like all the colour has been drained from the world around him, leaving everything dull and lifeless.
Except Taehyung.
"Sweetheart," Taehyung whispers, taking the empty glass from him. "Come," he requests, tugging on Jimin's fingers to get to his feet. "Bed now, okay?"
Jimin lets his best friend pull him up to practically drag him around the corner of the bed until he can plop back down onto the softness of the expensive hotel mattress. Taehyung puffs a quiet chuckle from his nose, sounding endeared by Jimin's floppy state.
The bed dips as Taehyung takes his place, and without a second thought, Jimin scooches over until he's pressed into the warmth of his body. Taehyung pulls the covers up to their chins and tucks Jimin in. And Jimin feels loved.
“You know, I’m really proud of you.” Taehyung says, his tone so incredibly soft in the dark, compressed space they've created.
For the first time since he walked in over an hour ago, Jimin makes a sound...a dismissive snort, but a sound nonetheless.
"Gross," Taehyung snorts in return. "I am, though," the sweet boy insists. "You've been doing so well, and we knew difficult times like these would crop up from time to time." Jimin nestles his face into Taehyung's neck. His chubby little fingers clutching onto his t-shirt to keep him close. Taehyung carves his fingers through Jimin's hair, nails dragging beautifully over his scalp, giving him goosebumps all over. "Thank you," Taehyung whispers.
"Hmm?" Jimin doesn't understand.
"For coming to me," Taehyung explains. "I always want to be the one to take care of you." A whimper crawls its way out of Jimin's chest, and he just feels so overwhelmed. Taehyung just smiles softly, pressing a gentle kiss to Jimin's forehead before pulling him closer. "Best friends, right?"
Jimin doesn't know anymore. Are they best friends? They all say they're a family, and of course they are, but Jimin and Taehyung? They have something different. The sibling relationships that have grown between the rest of the members never seemed to develop for them. Sure, they all joke that the 95-liners are soulmates, and Jimin used to like that, but it doesn’t feel enough anymore. It's been out there for the world to know and use as it pleases. Jimin wants something that's just theirs.
It's nothing new for Jimin to sleep in Taehyung's bed. In a foreign city, so far from home, where everything is so different, they are each other's safe place. This, snuggling under the covers of a hotel bed; gentle kisses on the forehead and quiet conversations about anything and everything. It's nights like these that have saved Jimin from feeling homesick since the beginning.
What they have is special. It's so important to him that he's terrified of it.
He tilts his head to look up at Taehyung, his features highlighted only by the glimmer of moonlight streaming through the window.
"Yeah, best friends."
Taehyung cocks his head to the side inquisitively, "Are you not my best friend anymore, Jiminie? Do you not love me anymore?" His question is innocent; playful, but in Jimin's state, everything feels so much heavier. A lump forms in his throat, forcing him to remain silent. So instead of answering, he snuggles into the warmth of Taehyung's chest, wishing he could somehow melt into his body and stay there forever.
Taehyung hums softly, as if he understands. Maybe he does. silence has always been a way of their communication when words feel short or sometimes... too much. Like right now. He reaches out to cup Jimin's face and places a tender kiss on the tip of his nose.
Jimin closes his eyes and suppresses the urge to kiss his chin.
"In any case, I would love you enough for both of us, even if you didn't."
Jimin huffs a chuckle, nuzzling into the crook of his neck again.
"I'm so serious," Taehyung assures. "It actually hurts sometimes."
Jimin's fingers clutch at his shirt again, and he can't help but press his lips to Taehyung's neck. It's not a kiss per se; it's more just a gentle touch of his lips against his skin.
"Can I tell you a secret?" Taehyung asks, his voice barely above a whisper close to Jimin's ear, and Jimin can only hum affirmatively. "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you."
Jimin looks up at him again, a subtle frown pulling at his eyebrows. "Why?" He manages to ask, voice croaky and still a bit raw.
Taehyung's eyes soften as he meets Jimin's gaze. "Because," he shrugs a little. "You give me a reason to stay," he confesses, his hand reaching up to stroke Jimin's cheek. "Our lives can be so overwhelming, and I've thought about quitting many times, but I just love being around you. You make me laugh; I can be weird, and you never cringe or back away; you just join in and make me feel good."
The lump in Jimin's throat swells. "You are good, Taehyung-ah."
"And I love us ," Taehyung adds with a quiet giggle. "Best friends, soulmates, whatever. I don't even know. I don't really care. All I know is that you're my person. When you're on top of the world, when you're small and sad and need to lay in the dark and cuddle, and everything in between."
Tears roll down Jimin's face. How will he ever be enough for someone like Taehyung? The doubt claws at him, the fear of always being just a step behind everyone else. Taehyung is everything bright in the world. He's beautiful and endlessly kind. Jimin just feels like a shadow trying to catch the light.
"I love you so much," he whispers, not knowing how else to say how he feels.
"Ah, see? I knew it," Taehyung laughs. His fingers go back to Jimin's hair, tucking it behind his ears and combing it away from his face. He presses a tender kiss between his eyebrows. "You are talented," he adds another to the bridge of his nose. "You are beautiful like I've never seen," he says, tightening his hold, pulling Jimin tighter into his chest. "This part of you is beautiful too," he whispers, kissing his temple.
Jimin knows he's referring to the part of him that he himself hates so much. He's always struggled, terribly. Overweight; underweight. Invincible; utterly broken. Life of the party; suicidal wreck.
The diagnosis of his bipolarism didn't exactly come as a shock, but somehow it makes him question everything he's ever done.
"I don't want to say that I know how difficult it is, because I don't. But I can say that I know you . And I know how to be here for you."
Jimin's quiet sobs have returned, and he lets them out without holding back. He's safe here. He's in the arms of the person he adores so deeply.
Taehyung doesn't waver. His tone is the same: steady. Something Jimin can hold onto during the most violent of storms and never fear that it might go away.
"Talk to me, angel," Taehyung whispers. "Tell me what you're thinking..even if it's bad."
That's another thing about Taehyung. He's not afraid of the nitty gritty. He'll listen to Jimin tell him about his darkest emotions without judgement.
"I hate that I can't trust my own thoughts."
Taehyung hums in understanding.
"Every decision feels like a gamble. When I'm happy, it's like walking on a tightrope. One wrong step and I could plummet. And when I'm like this," he gestures vaguely to the current moment, "it’s like the tightrope has disappeared altogether, and I just fall endlessly."
Jimin often wonders if this is how it will always be. The highs, the lows. Never knowing which one is real, or if either of them is. It’s debilitating. And the worst part? The fear that one day, his thoughts will take over and he'll lose control completely.
"Do you trust me?" Taehyung whispers.
Jimin sighs. "Of course I do."
"Good, 'cause I trust you. And I trust your mind..your beautiful mind." He says, lips pressed against his temple again. "You're still you," he mumbles into his skin. "You're the one whose determination got you where you are today and I don't care that you might have just been having an 'up' day when you auditioned to become a trainee." Taehyung adds with a scoff. "Everything you are, makes you you. And, god, Jimin, I love who you are."
Jimin squeezes him tighter, "I love you ."
"I know you do," Taehyung cups his face again and smiles down at him lovingly. "And I'll always be here," Taehyung says with an air of almost comic-assurance. "When you say yes to something and then can't follow through, I'll do it with you, whatever it is. Hell, even if I have to prance around pretending to be a ballerina, and you know how bad I'd be, I'll do it."
Jimin giggles, the sound light and genuine, a brief respite from the heaviness he's been carrying.
"I'll be here to catch you when the tightrope disappears, and I'll hold you until you get your balance back," Taehyung adds, pulling Jimin even closer, wrapping him up in a warmth that feels like home.
"Taetae," Jimin cooes, a mix of affection and exasperation in his tone. "You can't do that."
"Can't I?" Taehyung asks, his voice teasing yet sincere as he rubs the tip of his nose over Jimin's cheekbone. The soft graze of his lips against the corner of Jimin's mouth makes Jimin sigh; the world outside this moment feels distant, insignificant.
Jimin shakes his head slowly, trying to make sense of the emotions swirling inside him. "Because…You can't live your whole life looking after me."
Taehyung pulls back just enough to meet Jimin's eyes, his expression softening, but there’s a firmness in his gaze that makes Jimin’s heart flutter. "And why not?" Taehyung sounds indignant, as if the very idea is absurd.
Jimin smiles, a small, tender smile that reaches his eyes, his adoration for Taehyung pouring out in waves. He strokes a gentle line down Taehyung's nose with the tip of his finger and playfully boops the end. "You need to live your life. You need to do great things and meet amazing people." Something sad washes over Jimin as he says, "You to be happy, Taehyungie."
Taehyung catches his hand, holding it as if it were something precious, and brings that very fingertip to his lips. His kiss is soft, reverent, as if sealing a promise. "And what if I told you that you make me the happiest?"
Jimin’s breath catches as he processes it, the warmth of Taehyung’s hand in his grounding him, and he realises that this...this closeness, this comfort, is something he never wants to lose. He looks into Taehyung’s eyes, seeing the same unspoken understanding reflected back at him, and without thinking, without hesitating, their lips touch for the first time.
It’s not a grand, sweeping kiss, but rather something simple, inevitable. Just a gentle press of lips, soft and warm, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. It’s as if they’ve been doing this forever, as if this is just another way for them to comfort one another, another way to express what’s been between them all along.
When they pull back, neither of them says a word. There’s no need to. The kiss wasn’t an answer or a declaration; it was just a continuation of what they’ve always had, what they’ve always been to each other. And it feels right, like it should have been there the whole time.
Maybe it was.
Time passes in a quiet, unspoken understanding as they remain wrapped in each other’s arms. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of them in this little bubble of feelings. Their lips meet over and over, sweet and innocent. Their hands roam slowly, gently over one another’s bodies, tracing patterns that speak of comfort and tenderness. There’s no rush, no need to break the silence; they simply lie there, breathing in the same rhythm, existing in this shared space that feels entirely their own.
Taehyung traces Jimin's lips with his thumb, and Jimin thinks that this is what true happiness feels like. A shy smile tugs at his lips as he tries to find the right words. He swallows, and in a voice so soft it’s almost a whisper, he asks, "Taehyung-ah… do you… do you think we’re in love?"
Taehyung’s eyes crinkle slightly at the edges as a small, almost amused smile tugs at his lips. He tightens his hold on Jimin, their foreheads brushing together. “Jiminie,” he begins, his voice a warm murmur. "I think we might be."
Jimin blinks, his breath catching as Taehyung’s words sink in. There’s a warmth spreading through his chest, something that feels both terrifying and exhilarating.
“You knew?” Jimin whispers, searching Taehyung’s gaze for any hint of doubt.
Taehyung’s thumb brushes softly against Jimin’s cheek, his expression tender. “How could I not?” he murmurs. “Every time I look at you, every time I hold you like this,” he adds, his hand tracing slow circles on Jimin's back. “I’ve loved you all along.”
Jimin feels something inside him unravel. A knot of tension he hadn’t realised he’d been holding onto for so long. His hand trembles as he rests it on Taehyung’s cheek, their foreheads pressing together, grounding them in this shared moment of truth.
Taehyung’s gaze never wavers, his eyes reflecting a deep, unwavering affection that makes Jimin’s heart swell. “I’ve always known,” Taehyung continues, his voice steady and soothing.
Jimin’s breath hitches, a flood of emotions rushing through him. Relief. Joy. Fear. And something so deep and profound that it takes his breath away. The weight of Taehyung’s words settles over him like a comforting blanket, wrapping him in warmth.
He closes his eyes, letting himself sink into the feeling, letting it wash over him like a gentle tide. “I love you,” Jimin whispers, the words barely audible, as if they’re a secret meant only for the two of them, a promise whispered in the quiet of the night.
Taehyung’s smile softens, and he presses a tender kiss to Jimin’s forehead, lingering there as if to seal the moment. “I love you too, Jiminie,” he whispers back, his voice filled with the same quiet assurance that has always steadied Jimin through his storms, a lighthouse guiding him home.
In this moment, everything else fades away. There’s just them, wrapped in each other’s warmth, in the softest, truest form of love.