Work Text:
When the first rays of dawn break through the dense veil of night is when Jungkook does his best thinking; he’s known this since he was a small child, eyes wide and troubles infinitesimally small. His parents never knew, but sometimes, Jungkook would lay in his bed at ungodly hours of the morning and let his mind wander to all the places daylight kept at bay. At the time, his thoughts had mostly been about cartoons and the pretty girl down the street, but he had just been 7.
Now, at 19, he still finds himself lying in his bed thinking when the sun makes a reappearance and a new day starts. Jungkook knows that it isn’t healthy, not with the demanding schedule he always has, but he also knows that those few minutes of uninterrupted bliss are worth it.
Some nights, he’d lament about his family whom he left back in Busan, and how his mother always looks so much older every time they meet. Some nights, he’d contemplate about his place in the world and how anyone could easily replace him; all they would need is a pretty face and a strong voice. Some nights, he’d try to imagine what exactly his future holds and what will happen once Bangtan disbands.
Some nights, he’d think of nothing at all, preferring to look out his window and let his mind be blank for a few precious moments.
Some nights, though, Jungkook’s mind didn't go to his guilt as a son or his pending future. Instead, he would think about the beautiful boy that laid beside him, gentle snores echoing in the small room.
It didn't take long for Jungkook to figure out that tonight, his mind would be wrapped around Jimin.
Jeon Jungkook wasn’t gay; he had never claimed to like boys before and he wouldn’t claim to like boys now. In his experience, he had found that labels end up complicating things and making messes where they aren’t needed, so he doesn’t use them. Jungkook knows where his heart lies, his interest lies- and that was with Park Jimin. He doesn’t need words to tell him that.
Gently, Jungkook brought a hand to run through Jimin’s ruffled hair. The freshly-dyed, black strands fall easily through his fingers and cascade around Jimin’s face in a way that makes Jungkook snort quietly. Jimin was handsome, yes, but with his face squished against a pillow and his hair standing up in an awkward mohawk, Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh.
He stopped, however, when Jimin shuffled and whined in his sleep, disturbed by Jungkook. When the smaller boy settled down again, he placed a hand on Jimin’s waist, enjoying just being able to touch him like this.
The journey their relationship had taken hadn’t been easy. They were two of the most famous idols in South Korea. Every single move they made was monitored by hundreds of thousands of people. One wrong move and everything they had been working so hard for would have come crashing down around them.
Even without the threat of the media, Jungkook wasn't someone who greeted others easily; he was shy, reserved, and skeptical of anyone he met. Thus, Jungkook had been… hesitant in the beginning.
Everything in the idol industry had been so loud and bright and different. Training had done nothing to warn Jungkook of how hectic the life of an idol was. It didn’t tell Jungkook about the pain of separating from his family, complicated choreography, or having the weight of an entire nation’s eager stare on his every move. He had been so young when he had decided to go into this industry; just barely old enough to be considered a teenager, and yet people had treated him like he was a fully grown man.
The burden that had been placed upon his shoulders drove him to the edges of the deepest and darkest parts of his mind. Those parts had reigned supreme for a long time; telling him to be better, bigger, faster. He had to be better than what he was because if he wasn’t perfect, Jungkook was useless. He had almost succumbed to that side of himself multiple times; his fragile self-esteem too weak to support the demands of an abusive, power hungry industry.
But in came Jimin with bright eyes and chubby cheeks and invasive hands. Jimin, a boy not much older than Jungkook himself, who had held him when he cried at night and hushed him in satoori that sounded so much of home that it hurt.
Jimin had been just the right mixture of home and the excitement that came with being an idol for Jungkook to easily fit him into his life. Jimin came in like wild waves of smiles and embarrassing flirtations, but went away like the sea receding from the shore. Jungkook was left, drenched in Jimin’s lingering presence and memory, but knowing that he’d be back soon, just like the tide.
Jimin had been a promise that Jungkook didn’t fully understand, and that had scared him. More than the lights and the people and the demands of his manager: the small, smiling boy of Busan scared him.
So for the first few years Jungkook pushed Jimin away, and in turn, pushed his fears away. He had thought that if he refused to acknowledge the fluttering in his stomach and the knot in his throat that came around whenever Jimin did, everything would stop being so damn terrifying. It made their relationship dangerously rocky, but Jimin had pushed relentlessly. Jungkook found that nothing could deter Jimin from claiming a spot in his heart, no matter how hard Jungkook resisted, and damn it all if Jimin didn't accomplish just that.
Eventually, the terror bled into expectancy and the nerves turned into warmth that spread throughout his body like molten lava. Jimin became something like a home away from home and Jungkook would go to him during those times that his homesickness threatened to consume him.
Their love grew slowly, trickling into the cracks that were prevalent throughout Jungkook’s entire being. Jimin had taken parts of himself and fit them in the slots that had once felt achingly empty, and Jungkook would never come to understand how a bright boy from the other side of Busan could have torn through his walls so thoroughly.
“Jungkook? What’re you doing up?” Jimin slurred, words thick on his tongue and eyes just barely slotted open. Despite his face being puffy with sleep and his hair sticking up in a way that mimicked a porcupine, Jungkook still thought that Jimin was gorgeous.
Jungkook gave a tender smile that was lost in the darkness of the room. “I’m just thinking,” he replied, voice soft against the silence of the night. Jimin gave a small huff and shuffled closer to Jungkook, his smaller hands grabbing at Jungkook’s shirt to pull him down from his propped up position.
Once Jimin was content and lying on Jungkook’s bare chest, he intertwined their hands with a quiet sigh. “You should go back to bed. You can think tomorrow. We got that photo shoot at 7 and you know it’s gonna last all day.” His voice was slow and Jungkook reveled in it.
Jungkook hummed and buried his nose in the hair at the top of Jimin’s head. Inhaling deeply, he squeezed his hand that was fitted with Jimin’s in his way of replying. He could feel the other’s huff out in annoyance on his chest.
“I’m serious, Jungkook-ah. I know you have a lot on your mind, but you need to sleep. Whatever you’re thinking about will be there tomorrow- after you’ve some kind of rest,” Jimin said, voice soft and still rough with sleep, but firm.
Jungkook paused and thought about his words: would Jimin still be there tomorrow? Jungkook looked down at his lover and bit the inside of his cheek, thoughts straying.
Jimin had never given him a reason to doubt his affections. Jungkook knew first hand that Jimin didn’t have a problem with showing his love in every way possible, whether it be through words or physical contact, but would he always be that way? Would Jimin one day wake up and see that Jungkook wasn’t all there was? There was a vast number of people for Jimin to choose from, after all. Jimin could easily leave Jungkook and still have the world at his fingertips, but Jungkook-
“Ow! What the fuck, Jimin?” Jungkook cried out, body recoiling and hand coming up to rub at his abused nipple. When Jimin raised his head up to glare at Jungkook, he glared back, hand still covering his tender chest, just in case.
“Really. Go back to bed. You haven’t slept properly in a long time and you need to rest!” Jimin reprimanded. He paused for a moment, glare falling and lips pursing into a small frown, “If you’re having trouble, you know you can come to me, right? I’m not always the best for advice like Namjoon-hyung or Yoongi-hyung, but I’m still here, you know? I’m your… boyfriend for a reason.” The word sounded foreign and hesitant on Jimin’s tongue. Neither had really said it to each other before, their relationship still young and fresh.
Jungkook stared at Jimin for a while after that, his eyes flicking between Jimin’s own. They stayed locked in a moment of stillness, the only sound being their slow breathing.
Eventually Jungkook sighed, hand coming up to cup Jimin’s face. His thumb stroked along Jimin’s warm cheek gently. “Yeah, I know that, hyung. I’m just… Thinking, you know? Sometimes it’s nice to just stop and think to yourself for a while and I can only really do that at night,” Jungkook admitted, eyes never leaving Jimin’s.
“Okay… I guess I understand, but I still stand by what I said: you need sleep tonight.” Jimin conceded with a pout. He wasn't happy, Jungkook could tell, but Jimin had learned when to push and when to let go where Jungkook was concerned.
“Alright, alright. I’ll go to bed,” Jungkook murmured and leaned down to press a warm kiss to Jimin’s lips. Their mouths molded together seamlessly, and Jimin sighed through his nose, contented both by the pressure of his lover’s lips against his own and Jungkook agreeing to sleep.
One kiss turned into two, and then three more tender kisses that had Jimin’s toes curling and Jungkook’s lips tingling. There was something so simply beautiful about being able to kiss Jimin like this: bare, tired, and sheltered away from the harsh world that was their reality.
After both of them were satisfied with a few more soft kisses, Jimin snuggled back down onto Jungkook’s chest, hand once again curling around his lover’s.
Jungkook could see the sun just barely beginning to peek over the horizon and breathed deeply, body relaxing. He could hear Jimin’s quiet snores and feel his puffs of breath on his own skin. Jimin’s hair tickled the underside of his chin and one of his knees were pressing against Jungkook’s thigh uncomfortably, but Jungkook couldn’t stop feeling like everything was so undeniably perfect.
His eyes closed and his thoughts wandered once more to the boy asleep on his chest.
Jimin would be there in the morning. Jungkook knew he would be because the warmth that was spreading through his chest wasn’t just from the body heat that rolled off Jimin’s smaller frame. The feelings that Jungkook held deep within his heart weren’t the kind of feelings you get from someone who was temporary. This feeling of never wanting anything more than that, right there, right then, was all the proof Jungkook needed.
When the first rays of dawn shine through over the horizon- that’s when Jungkook thought about Park Jimin more than he liked to admit. He thought about hushed words and soft eyes and the weight of his own heart when mixed with Jimin’s. Some nights, he thought about the pain of his separation from his too-old mother. Some nights, he thought about his temporary purpose in the world. Some nights, he thought about nothing in particular.
Some nights, though, Jungkook couldn’t keep his mind from returning to the man who’s satoori sounded like home and who had a kiss that tasted as sweet as his favourite childhood candy. He couldn’t keep his mind off the same man who had terrified him to his very core with his bright smiles and open arms.
Some nights, Jungkook thought about Park Jimin and how in love he was.
Those nights were often.