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Jimin wouldn’t consider himself a love expert, or a relationship guru, or anything like that. He doesn’t know a lot about love, but he knows enough to recognize it, and see it, and feel it.
Love is a mystery, shrouded in shadow, and Jimin’s turned on every light he could find, searched for flashlights and booklights and lamps and chandeliers, but it’s like there’s a void there, almost. No matter how much he tries, he can never uncover the mystery.
So, no, he isn’t a love expert - not in the slightest. But he sees it.
Jimin sees love everywhere, in the way Taehyung’s arms flail everywhere when he’s excited about something and in the way Taehyung nudges him gently and whispers those stupid jokes of his into Jimin’s ear. He doesn’t even have to look for it, it’s just there; the warmness in Taehyung’s gaze and the brightness in his smile.
He didn’t plan on falling for his best friend, but it snuck up on him slowly and he didn’t even realize it until one day Taehyung laughed and Jimin felt a little like he’d been punched. He’d recoiled, breathless, and Taehyung stopped laughing on the spot and cocked his head worryingly. “Are you okay, Jiminnie?” He’d asked, and Jimin had waved him off with a hasty “I’m fine.”
Taehyung is gangly limbs and loud noises and bright laughter and friendly eyes and soft smiles, and it was all too easy for Jimin to fall in love. Taehyung’s like lemonade on a hot summer day: refreshing and sweet and a welcome surprise. They’ve been best friends since their trainee days, glued at the hip - the 95 line. Their motto: “95z for life.” You’ll never find one without the other, and on the off chance that you do, they always know where their counterpart is.
Jimin knows he’s not all that secretive about his feelings for Taehyung. He knows that he looks at Taehyung like he’s the sun and Jimin’s the moon, just reflecting his light and warmth. Yoongi’s told him this, Hoseok’s told him this, Jin’s told him this, etcetera, etcetera.
But he can’t help it. Taehyung is so good, he’s so, so deserving of all the love in the world, and okay, maybe Jimin’s a little biased, but Taehyung isn’t just a ray of sunshine, he’s the biggest, brightest motherfucking star that’s out there. He’s the best person Jimin knows, and it rips Jimin to pieces when he sees that familiar look in Taehyung’s eyes, the one that says I don’t deserve love.
“You do!” Jimin wants to scream. “You do, you do, you do!”
Now is one of those times. Taehyung has locked himself in his and Jimin’s shared room, and he’s probably huddled up under three blankets in complete darkness, an episode of Haikyuu!! playing to cover up his quiet sobs.
Jimin knocks on the door gently, a near-silent rap, and waits for it to open. It doesn’t. Jimin sighs and pulls out the key out of his pocket from where he’d stashed it earlier, inserts it into the keyhole, and turns it, allowing him access to his and Taehyung’s shared room. “Taetae?” He asks softly, flicking on a lamp. Light penetrates the dark void that encompassed the room before.
“Go away,” comes a muffled voice from a mound of blankets on the far bed. “I’m fine.”
“Taehyung, just please talk to me.” Jimin walks over and pulls the blankets off of his best friend. When the last one is finally removed (Jimin doesn’t know how Taehyung even breathed under five of them), Taehyung sits forlornly on the bed, his eyes rimmed red. His laptop is in front of him, and soft “chance ball”s and “nice receive”s play through the speakers.
Jimin sits down next to him, and Taehyung immediately collapses onto him, the force of it knocking them both back onto the bed. Taehyung’s nose brushes Jimin’s neck, and Jimin freezes.
Then Taehyung speaks: “‘M so tired, Jiminnie. I want to lay down and sleep for a thousand years and wake up and have no responsibilities and spend forever with you and Jeonggukkie. I just…” Taehyung trails off, frustrated, and Jimin’s hand travels to his best friend’s hair and begins to play with it. Taehyung makes a soft sound and nuzzles his nose into Jimin’s neck.
If Jimin could, he’d give Taehyung the world.
“I just can’t do anything right anymore, Jiminnie, I… I keep messing up in live performances and I can’t get the dances right and Hobi-hyung is mad at me because I yelled at him yesterday and I got sick and couldn’t perform for the fans and I… It’s all my fault, Jiminnie, it's all my fault, everything that went wrong. I want to die.” Taehyung’s held himself together until now, but the dam breaks as he says this; his lip quivers and his eyes well up with tears and Jimin feels water splatter onto his collarbones and beneath his chin.
And then Jimin’s dam breaks too, and suddenly there’s tears streaming down his face. He knows that Taehyung feels like this (hell, he feels like this too, sometimes), but if he could, he’d kiss away all of Taehyung’s tears, and then maybe kiss him. Taehyung can go a little too far sometimes, this is true, but he always, always means well; he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. He’s positive and happy and Jimin would give anything to keep him that way.
“Taetae,” he starts, hurriedly wiping away tears. “Oh my god, Taehyung. Please don’t say you want to die. Please, please, please. If you die, I die, too. You’re my favorite person in the world and I know how you feel but just… Please don’t say that. Not everything is your fault, okay, you haven’t done anything wrong. It always takes me time to get the choreography down, too, so don’t blame yourself. I love you,” Jimin finishes, his voice a soft mumble as he presses a kiss to Taehyung’s head. “I love you so much.”
“Mm, I love you too, Jiminnie, thank you for making me feel better,” Taehyung says into Jimin’s neck. Then he sits up, eyes wide, looking startled. Jimin sits up as well, worry setting deep into his bones. Is Taehyung okay? What happened? Why did he sit up so quickly? “I love you,” Taehyung breathes out, looking perplexed, and Jimin’s heart stutters and skips a beat. “I love you.” He repeats experimentally, and then: “Hey. Jimin. Kiss me.”
“Wh-what?!” Jimin nearly shrieks, his heart racing a mile a minute. His mind is a mess, and he’s suddenly started sweating up a storm. What the hell is Taehyung doing? “Why?” And Taehyung leans in, and Jimin wants to die. Just a little bit.
“Just. Kiss me. I wanna know what if feels like. Just once, Jiminnie.” Taehyung is way too close, and his breath is ghosting Jimin’s mouth.
It’s almost too easy to close the gap. Jimin leans in and Taehyung leans in and he swears he hears the music swell in the background and all of his dreams are finally coming true, almost like he’s in a fairytale, and then -
Their noses collide and Taehyung pulls back. Jimin doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. This is most definitely not a fairytale.
“Can we try that again?” Taehyung smiles, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. Jimin nods, a warmth welling up in his chest cavity. Fuck, he’s so in love with Kim Taehyung, it’s ridiculous.
Jimin leans in and Taehyung leans in and the music crescendoes again and this time their lips meet.
It’s not all fireworks or butterflies like some people say, it’s more like drinking a mug of hot chocolate when it’s cold outside. He feels warm and happy and content and he’d really like to do this forever.
Humans need to breathe, though, so eventually they break apart. The smile on Taehyung’s face is just as big as the one on Jimin’s, maybe even bigger, and their fingers find each other in the sheets on the bed.
“Park Jimin,” Taehyung announces, standing up suddenly and dragging Jimin up with him. “I have something to tell you.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “I’m in love with you.” Then he drags Jimin out the door into the commons area and yells: “I’M IN LOVE WITH PARK JIMIN!”
“Fucking finally,” Yoongi mumbles from his position on the couch. “Now go mess around somewhere else.”
Jimin blushes and ducks his head into Taehyung’s neck, and then, against his skin: “I’m in love with you, Kim Taehyung.”
So, yeah, Jimin’s life isn’t a fairytale, but it’s pretty damn close.