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The first time he sees Seokjin cry, Jimin is seventeen years old, too old to not notice and too young to let it go.
"Hyung," he calls softly, "what's wrong?"
It's dark in their bedroom, and everyone else is sleeping. Namjoon's snores echo through the room, so loud that Jimin barely recognizes the sound of sniffling beneath it.
Seokjin immediately stops. Jimin peers over the side of his bunk and looks down at where Seokjin sleeps. The only thing he can see in the darkness is the bright glistening of tears in Seokjin's eyes. His breath stutters in his throat.
"Go back to sleep, Jimin."
"Are you okay?"
Jimin blinks, eyes slowly adjusting to the low light. Seokjin looks back up at him, expression gentle.
"Don't worry about me," he smiles. "I'll be fine."
Jimin hesitates. "Do you want me to come down?"
Seokjin shakes his head. "No, that's okay. Just go back to sleep, hm? I'm going to get a drink of water." He slips out of the blankets, careful to step over Taehyung's legs on his way to the door. Jimin moves back to his pillow, staring up at the ceiling. He only closes his eyes when he hears Seokjin come back to bed, hears the rustle of sheets as he settles in.
Jimin falls asleep to the sound of Seokjin's small, hiccuping breaths.
When Jimin is nineteen, Taehyung gets into astronomy. He comes home from school, science textbook in his hands, and declares, "If I wasn't an idol, I'd be an astronaut."
"I thought you had to be smart to be an astronaut," Jimin says. Taehyung throws a pillow at him.
"I'm smart," he says. Jimin snorts, though it quickly turns to a yelp when Taehyung tackles him.
That night, they both go out to the balcony to look for constellations. Seokjin joins them too, Jungkook trailing behind him like a shadow. The sky is a dusky rose that melts into a deep purple-blue as the sun sets, sinking lower and lower into the earth. Seokjin and Jimin stand side by side, shoulders almost touching.
"Ah," Seokjin says. "That's it."
"What's it?" Jimin asks.
"That pink, the one between the sun and the sky. That's my favourite colour."
Jimin looks over at Seokjin, looks over at the pink glow reflecting onto the planes of Seokjin's face. "Yeah," he says. "It's nice."
When the first stars twinkle into view, Taehyung is on them instantly, holding his notebook up to the sky. "That one's Orion," he says, pointing at the constellation. "Or, wait, no. Maybe it's the Big Dipper?"
Seokjin laughs and goes to Taehyung's notebook to try and figure it out. Jimin feels distinctly cold all of a sudden, and even when Jungkook moves in to Seokjin's place, Jimin still feels the loss of heat.
Seokjin and Jungkook go in first, but Jimin stays to keep Taehyung company as he names the stars. Jimin names some too, but he doesn't know the official names or anything.
"That one's Sojin. From Girl's Day." He points to a small little cluster of stars near the tail of the Dipper. "And right beside it, that's G-Dragon." They make a game out of it, naming as many idols as they can.
Seokjin comes out again too, a cup of steaming hot chocolate in each hand. "You looked cold," he explains. When Jimin takes his cup from Seokjin's hands, he lets his fingers brush against Seokjin's warm palms.
"Your hands are freezing," Seokjin complains. He doesn't move away though, just smiles at Jimin, a gentle curve of his lips.
Jimin looks at him and sees a lone star reflecting back at him, twinkling in depths of Seokjin’s eyes. He turns around to the sky, trying to find where it actually is. He gestures to it when he does.
"That one's Seokjin-hyung," he tells Taehyung. "Because it's the brightest."
Seokjin blinks at them, then rolls his eyes exaggeratedly when Taehyung nods in agreement. Theres a pleased flush to his cheeks though, Jimin notes with satisfaction.
When he and Taehyung finally go inside, it's already past midnight. Taehyung sighs dreamily and says, "Wouldn't it be cool to live up there with the stars?"
Jimin thinks about the way the sun and stars shine in Seokjin's eyes and says, ”I think I'm pretty good right here.”
The more Jimin looks, the more he sees. There's the twinkle of stage lights shining through Seokjin's eyelashes, the glint of sadness when he talks to his mother on the phone. Jimin looks for it in the joy when Seokjin eats good food, finds it in the flash of pride when he nails a high note.
He sees it when Seokjin lights the candles on Jimin's twenty-first birthday. Seokjin hands Jimin the cake knife. "Be careful," he warns.
"Don't worry," Jimin says, "I'm not Namjoon-hyung."
Namjoon lets out an affronted gasp. "The blatant disrespect."
Jimin laughs as the knife sinks down into the sponge of the cake. He cuts out a small piece and picks it up. "Who wants first bite?"
"It's your birthday, you eat it!" Seokjin tells him. Jimin blinks at him and puts the cake to Seokjin's lips instead. Seokjin looks at Jimin balefully but opens his mouth anyway. Jimin pushes the chunk in, breathlessly treasuring the easy way Seokjin savours the taste on his tongue, the way he licks up the last vestiges of frosting on Jimin's fingers. "Mm," Seokjin hums, eyes closed. "It's good."
Jimin smiles, heart thumping, and takes his hand back.
He pretends he doesn't notice Taehyung's raised eyebrow as he cuts another slice of cake.
"Why don't you feed me too," Taehyung asks, mocking edge to his tone.
"Feed yourself, asshole," Jimin says, but very deliberately avoids eye contact as he passes out slices of cake to the other boys.
(Yoongi catches him once, when he's staring at Seokjin a little too long. "What are you doing," he asks curiously.
"I'm looking for the stars in Seokjin-hyung's eyes," Jimin replies before he really registers what he's saying. Yoongi looks at him for a long moment, then looks to where Seokjin is sitting with Taehyung, laugh lines stretching his face as he doubles over in short, high-pitched giggles.
Yoongi says, "Oh," a strange lilt in his voice. Jimin glances up at him. Yoongi is still watching Seokjin. "I think I know what you mean.")
("You should tell him," Hoseok tells Jimin early one Wednesday morning, when Taehyung is still sleeping.
"Tell who?" Jimin frowns at him, not understanding.
"You know. Jin-hyung."
"Tell him what?"
"That you're in love with him?"
Jimin turns to look at Hoseok. "I'm not in love with Jin-hyung."
"Oh," Hoseok says slowly. "Okay."
Jimin grabs his comb off his bedside table and loosely drags it through the tangles in his hair, still hyper-aware of Hoseok's gaze weighing down between his shoulders.
He swallows hard, tugs the comb a little rougher and oh, he thinks. Maybe I'm in love with Jin-hyung.)
Jimin is twenty one years old, and now he's old enough to know not to ask.
They don't all sleep in the same room anymore, no more seven sets of arms and legs crammed together underneath too many blankets. Jimin loves having more space, loves the late nights spent laughing until his stomach hurts with Taehyung and Hoseok.
But. He misses it sometimes. He's spent so long breathing in sync with six other people that sometimes he doesn't know where he ends and everyone else begins. Sometimes, when it's just the seven of them in the middle of the night again, he forgets about the rest of the world. In that moment, they are their own galaxy, revolving around one another endlessly and forever.
And in that galaxy, Jimin thinks, Seokjin is the sun.
But only for a moment, and then Jimin blinks, and it's 3AM and Jimin is lying alone in the dark. Outside his room, there are slow shuffling steps that he instantly recognizes as Seokjin.
If Jimin were younger or braver, he would ask Seokjin if he still cries himself awake at night.
Instead, he's scared that he'll ask, and Seokjin will say, I'm fine, Jimin. Go to sleep, Jimin. He'll say it soft and gentle, with that comforting smile that only twists deeper inside Jimin's gut.
Yoongi would know. Jimin could ask, but Yoongi is notorious for keeping his own secrets close and his friends' secrets closer.
Jimin tosses and turns over in his comforter, still thinking about the slow pit-pat of Seokjin's footsteps. When he turns around again, he starts. Hoseok is staring at him from the next bed over.
"Go," Hoseok whispers soundlessly.
So Jimin goes.
He tiptoes out of the room and into the kitchen where he finds Seokjin sitting listlessly at the table. He takes a seat next to him.
“Hi, hyung.”
"Sorry, did I wake you?"
"No," Jimin lies.
Seokjin's eyes aren't red, but there's a telling catch in his voice when he speaks, one that tugs at Jimin's heart.
"Hyung," Jimin starts, then stops because he doesn't know exactly what to say.
Seokjin waits for him to figure it out, crooked fingers tracing patterns on the tabletop.
"Do you remember that one night? It was a long time ago." Jimin brings his hand beside Seokjin's, making it dance in the spaces between Seokjin's fingers.
Seokjin smiles and lets Jimin play with his hands. "Which night?"
"You might not remember."
Seokjin turns his hand over and catches Jimin's fingers in his own. "Try me."
"You were crying," Jimin says, watching the way the veins tense in Seokjin's wrist.
"Ah," Seokjin says without looking at Jimin. "Maybe I had a bad dream."
Jimin weighs his words carefully. "Did you have a bad dream tonight, too."
Seokjin goes to pull his hand away, but Jimin quickly interlaces his fingers with Seokjin's and keeps them locked together. "Don't you dare, hyung."
"Jimin. I-"
"-No. You’re not allowed to do that, you’re not allowed to stay so far away anymore.” Not from me. Jimin pulls Seokjin's hand up, slowly, gently, never breaking eye contact with Seokjin.
He drops a soft kiss on Seokjin's knuckle. Seokjin swallows but doesn't move, even when Jimin keeps going, placing a kiss on every bump.
"Your lips are soft," Seokjin says, barely a whisper.
Jimin keeps Seokjin's hand close, his lips brushing cool skin when he says, "I want you to trust me."
"It happens less now," Seokjin says.
"What do you dream about?"
"Sometimes, nothing."
Jimin peppers kisses down to Seokjin's wrist. "And sometimes?"
"I dream of space. I dream that I'm alone, the only living thing for miles and miles, and all I can see of earth is far, far away. And then the stars come and swallow me whole and then there's nothing left of me at all."
Jimin kisses his way up the veins in Seokjin's arm as he talks, lingering a little in the crook of Seokjin's elbow. When Seokjin’s finished speaking, he's made his way to the dark shadows of Seokjin's collarbone. Jimin looks up to where Seokjin is looking down at him through fluttered eyelashes.
“Sometimes I dream of you,” Seokjin tells Jimin.
Jimin rises up, closing the distance between them so that he can see himself reflecting back in Seokjin's eyes. He feels their breaths mingling, thinks he can feel Seokjin's pulse pounding. "Yeah?"
"When you're with me," Seokjin whispers, "it's never a bad dream."
Jimin smiles and says, "I guess you'll have to keep me close."
His next exhale is less of a breath and more of a meeting of lips, and it's only a few moments, but in those moments Jimin tries to memorize every texture of Seokjin's lips. Seokjin doesn't close his eyes, and neither does he; why would he, when Seokjin's looking at him like he's the most beautiful thing in this world? They stop to breathe, but don't pull away from one another.
Seokjin blinks dazedly, then smiles and leans up to press a kiss to the side of Jimin's mouth. "Yeah," he says. "I guess I will."
The next time they all pile into the car to get to a recording, Jimin sidles in beside Seokjin at the back. Seokjin links their arms together and settles in, satisfied. In front of them Taehyung looks back at them, watching silently for a few minutes.
"Oh," he says. "Finally."
Seokjin swats at him playfully, but nestles further into Jimin's side.
"Did you know," Taehyung continues, "that Jimin thinks you're his star? He's obsessed, you better watch out."
Jimin glares at him, embarrassed. "Oh my god, Tae, shut up."
Taehyung grins wickedly. "Did you know he once told me that 'Seokjin-hyung shines the brightest of all the stars in the universe?'"
Jimin groans and buries his face in Seokjin's neck. Seokjin makes a little considering hum in his throat.
“You can’t touch a star, though, can you?” Seokjin says thoughtfully. “But I want you to touch me.”
In front of them, Taehung chokes on his spit. “Hyung.”
“No! I didn’t - not like that.” He’s flushed pink to his ears with embarrassment, but then he turns to Jimin and says privately, only for them, cheeks still warm and red, “Well. Also like that.”
Jimin hears Taehyung retch dramatically, but he’s far too focused on the way Seokjin’s eyes are dancing to care about anything else. He lays a soft kiss on Seokjin's collarbone and tightens his hold on Seokjin's arm.
(He thinks about something Namjoon once told him, a line from a poem or a story, something from the books he's always reading.
"From what we cannot hold the stars are made," Namjoon had said. Jimin doesn't care about poetry, but now he thinks about it again and decides maybe whoever wrote that didn't try to hold the right stars.
Because Seokjin is made from stars and Jimin has finally caught starlight in his hands.)