Work Text:
With the other boys it took time for it to click. Weeks, months, or maybe years. Not with Seokjin.
"Here, Min-ah, let oppa do that for you."
That was the first time Seokjin had acknowledged her change of gender, only two hours after she came out to the group, sat on their sunken in, shitty dorm sofa, letting out more sobs than words, terrified that this would be it for her, the end of her place in the group, the end of BTS as their fans knew it, surely she'd be kicked out now, there was no way to avoid it, no matter the fact that they'd already debuted a year prior, their fans would surely have to cope. Maybe if she'd just figured it out sooner she wouldn't have had to burden them like this in the first place.
BTS was a boy-group after all, whether people understood she was a girl now or not, they surely would know that she wasn't quite a boy, something other. Something queer. Strange.
It was a miracle her groupmates had understood a single word she had said, she barely understood what she was saying herself, far from understanding how she felt, even with the clawing sense of off-ness that had followed her since puberty, the unyielding sensation of skin too tight, too loose for her form.
The greater miracle, however, had certainly been her groupmates accepting her, fuck. She was stuck tearing up for hours after, every other thought that graced her mind enough to do it for her, sensitive as the nerves in her hands.
"Wait, what does that mean? Why is Jimin crying?" Taehyung had asked, directed at their leader, perplexed, more worried than anything, far from accustomed to seeing one of his liveliest friends so torn up.
Namjoon had looked a bit at a loss himself, mouth opening and closing a little as he thought of something appropriate to say, but Jimin wouldn't be surprised if nothing came to him, after all, these types of confessions weren't exactly common in modern Korean society, far from widely accepted, Jimin often found herself on American online forums, caught between her screen and an English dictionary, frustrated beyond belief, but it had been enough, enough to know that this was a thing. Real. Even if she could only find two other transgender users on Twitter, not that she dared to interact with them as an idol. The library didn't help much either, not when she had to search for hyper-specific categories on her own. It was an isolating realisation, one that she was still trying to come to terms with, but it felt right, for once, something seemed to fit.
Yoongi was the only one who hadn't looked confused, he didn't have much of a look on his face at all to be fair, but Jimin clung to the hope that, at the very least, one of the members wouldn't despise her after this.
"It means -- well, you know how I was born a boy? I have a --" She gestured down, the move awkward and sharp, throat hoarse, grating to her own ears. "That, and everything. I just, there's people who are born with one pair of genitals, but in their brain, who they are as a person, they feel -- they feel the opposite? So, so I was born a boy, but I don't -- I don't --"
She had to stop again, choked up. Was there a point in explaining this even if she was doomed either way? She might have cut herself off already, given up, packed up and walked out, but they deserved to know, after everything the seven of them had been through already, they deserved to know.
"Like a hermaphrodite?" Namjoon asked, nose scrunched as he tried to find the right word. "A transsexual?"
Jimin nodded, nails digging into his palms under her sweater. "Yeah. . . yeah something like that." She said softly.
"Those terms are outdated, though."
Jimin's head shot up to look at Yoongi, but his body language was still relaxed, he'd spoken loud, the whole group had unquestionably heard him.
Poor Jeongguk looked absolutely lost, as he raised his hand to speak, and Jimin felt so endlessly endeared by their maknae, could only pray that Jeongguk wouldn't hate her, because Jeongguk didn't have the heart to hate anyone. "So, so. . . is Jimin my noona?"
The sound that left Jimin's throat had startled their youngest, even more so when Jimin moved at the speed of light to envelope Jeongguk in a hug far too tight to be comfortable, and Jeongguk squirmed but she couldn't bring herself to let go for several moments.
"Is that a yes? I'm so confused right now."
Jimin laughed wetly, fixing Jeongguk's hair after she'd mussed it up. "Yeah, Gukie, I'm your noona."
"Can I practise painting nails on you, then, Jiminie? I've gotten really good!" Hoseok had said, and Jimin had rolled her eyes, told him that he could have done that anyway, reminded them that at the end of the day, not much had changed, Jimin was still Jimin.
That had been the end of it, really, aside from a few more questions, some of the members quite clearly unsure of how to proceed, but none of them were rude, none of them seemed disgusted, or disappointed, maybe a little uncertain, but once she clarified that she didn't want to make it public quite yet, tensions eased, the air cleared, as with the pathways in Jimin's lungs.
Well, as much as they could anyway, she very much still felt as raw as an open wound, but hopefully a solid meal would fix that.
Seokjin had given her that, that and more, when she'd been struggling trying to cut the cheap meat on her plate, the Seokjin had swiftly pulled her plate towards him, unasked, cutting it much more cleanly than she could ever have done with her butter knife.
"Let oppa do that for you." Those were his exact words, on replay in her mind.
Jimin had flushed a particularly deep colour of pink at that, muttering a small thank you whilst discreetly glancing over the table to see if anyone else had reacted, but her search didn't yield any glaring scrutiny, Taehyung was looking at them, sure, but more in the zoned-out, chewing on his food type of way, so she kept her hands shy in her lap and watched Seokjin finish cutting the meat for her.
She wasn't sure how she'd missed how. . . pretty, his forearms and hands were until now, hyperaware of the way muscle moved under his skin as he used his hands. If she hadn't already been blushing, the observation would have certainly taken her there now. She brushed it off as the quiet thrill of being treated like a woman, even if it was a little heavy on the gender-roles, she didn't think she minded too much, not know, when she craved reassurance, validation.
It continued like that, always, for years, and in many ways, everything had changed, whilst Jimin certainly hadn't come out, it was a known secret among fans, with the way she was loved as the most feminine member, but mostly because Jeongguk had called her noona on camera few too many times, and then Taehyung got the habit into his vocabulary too, and well, whilst in didn't exactly mean anything to people outside their circle, "a teasing little quirk their maknaes have for him, maybe"; to Jimin, it meant everything.
In many other ways, nothing had changed, the members loved her dearly, nonplussed by the fact that she was trans, complimented her when she kept her hair long, blushed when she teased them, and spoiled her just a little more than they did each other. The perfect gentlemen, if you will.
Truly though, none were quite on the same level as Kim Seokjin, if the others were gentlemen, he was surely a prince, and he always had been, but no one could deny that his charms only got more intense for Jimin, especially since she'd come out and onwards.
From little things, like always guiding her up stage stairs with a careful hand, and sweetly fixing her hair after a particularly straining choreo, like bigger things, such as. . . such as. . .
She gasped. Really, this time it was too much. "Yah, Kim Seokjin-ssi, you don't think this is a little overboard? All I did was walk."
Seokjin took hold of one of her hands, closing it around the bouquet of flowers he'd gotten her, a wide assortment, coloured pink, purple and blue, with every shade in between. "You didn't just walk," He teased, but Jimin, any of their members, any of their fans, would still be able to read his bone fide happiness for her from a mile away. "You got on a fashion runway, for the first time, the Park Jimin of BTS, and you did it in a dress."
Maybe if it had been one of the other members, she would have been able to slap on a cocky smile, make a show of being full of herself, outwardly confident like it was her job, because it was, but with Seokjin, she forgot all of it, bit her lip, not timid, but maybe a little bashful under the spectacle. "It's not that big a deal."
"It is. You were nervous for weeks, but you still did it, and you did it beautifully."
This time she really did have to turn away, hiding her grin behind her hand, and she saw the other members looking at her too, fond, proud, clearly waiting their turn to say something, and Jimin couldn't imagine why they were giving her and Seokjin such a wide berth. Addressing them was much easier than addressing the man in front of her, truly, no one should look that handsome, even without his suited look that ARMY adored so much.
She raised an eyebrow at the others, they'd already cheered the second she'd gotten back to their dorm, but she'd never pass down on ribbing them a little. "What? A bouquet is needlessly grandiose but I'd still like some feedback."
"You looked amazing Jiminie!"
"You sparkled like gold!"
"Noona, you really stole the whole show -- not that anyone expected anything less."
"ARMYs are recovering as we speak."
Jimin soaked up all the praise, basked in it, as much as it had been nerve-racking, she felt on top of the world in the aftermath.
She did it in a dress. She walked a fashion show runway, filmed and watched by millions, and she did it in a dress. Euphoria didn't come close to describing how she felt in the moment. "Thank you guys for supporting me," She said earnestly, though refusing to let it get too emotional. "I need to find a vase to put these in, huh? Hobi-oppa come help, I think we should have one in that one closet. . ."
Point is, Seokjin had a soft spot for her, she knew it, their members knew it, the fans knew it -- Seokjin doted on her. She just couldn't imagine why, not that she wasn't grateful just. . . there were better options right? Really, some days it all just felt like a big joke, like one of these days she'd turn around and see them all laughing at her.
It was unrealistic, the thought, one that only came to her when she was mindlessly occupied, slowly freezing her in her tracks, quietly wondering, fearing all the what-ifs.
"Min-ah, you've been wiping that same counter for five minutes now, if oppa hears another one of your loud thoughts he's gonna lose it."
Brought back to present day, she really shouldn't still have these occasional thoughts plaguing her, not when it's already been so many years, not when they've already shown her so much love. Seokjin's voice was so gentle now when he spoke to her, even as he joked, who was she to ever doubt his sincerity? Seokjin was many things, but she'd never, ever known him to be a bully.
"Come here." He patted the spot on the sofa next to him, and Jimin didn't really have to think about going to join him, quite frankly pleased to ditch the rag, no doubt achieving nothing but the spread of microplastics on the coated wooden furniture, just looking for something to do that could be called productive without requiring any more of her depleted brain energy.
The day had been a long one, faintly, she was still aware of the other members in the dorm, something she knew intuitively by this point, someone was in the shower, and at this time, it was probably Jeongguk, Yoongi had taken over the kitchen in the far left corner of the space, no doubt making a snack for the members that still felt hungry after their dinner, the perfect sort of subtle caring he was. Namjoon sat at the island, to keep Yoongi company, maybe, but more likely to take a break from the laptop in front of him without having to call it a break, which left the Hoseok and Taehyung to be the ones making so much noise in one of the bedrooms. It all tracked, really, each member perfectly slotted into their lives.
Seokjin was still looking at her expectantly when she sat down, but she had nothing to tell him, sighing and switching to lie down instead, head in his lap, watching his expression soften in real time as he carded his fingers through her hair, the strands just about ending at the base of her neck, now.
"You okay, baby?" He whispered, and she hummed just as softly, not wanting to break the peaceful atmosphere around them, chatter and commotion muffled to the background as she closed her eyes, just to rest them.
She was okay, really, and maybe she had bad thoughts sometimes, but who didn't? She wouldn't pretend that this flavour of insecurity was uncommon, anyway, and she had her cure, right here, nestled in the heart of their home, tucked in the palms of each member's hand. By now calling them members, even with all the affection she carried in the world, felt understated. The members, yes, but her family, too.
What, if not family, felt like the peace she was being subjected to right now? Really, the scene lulled her soul, and she snuggled further into the heat of Seokjin's tummy, curled up and cosy, just close enough to their space heater to be warm without burning, and everything felt so safe, so easy, here.
She whined eventually, jostled in a way that brought her out of the serene state, grumbling softly until she was shushed, faintly registering that she was being carried, not that she bothered opening her eyes to confirm it, clinging closer to her apparent method of transport instead, idly wondering how much time had passed when it felt like none at all.
"Your back would have hurt tomorrow if you had stayed sleeping like that."
The words felt muted, like she was underwater, but she had the mind to recognise Seokjin by now, not that it made her feel any less petulant. She'd been beyond comfortable where she was, and now that she was being deposited down onto her bed, it felt cold.
No plush sofa, no background noise, no space heater, but worst of all, she was realising, no Seokjin.
So she fussed.
He heard him laugh, pulling back the hair from her forehead as he pet it. "You're already in bed, Jimin-ah, just relax, okay?"
Jimin leaned into the touch, displeased to see it go, to say the least, before using all of her drowsy strength to bodily pull Seokjin towards her, the startled little noise he made not failing to make her smile. "Don't go, oppa. You're warm."
She didn't open her eyes to see Seokjin's reaction to her slurred words, but she did feel him pause, almost felt nervous by it, despite the fact that sharing a bed was far from unheard of amongst the members, but soon enough he moved again. She sensed him gently peeling back the covers behind her, getting into bed ever so slowly, like he didn't want to jostle a single hair on her, a tentative hand curling around the base of her stomach, and she nuzzled back into the touch, affectionate, as everything felt settled again.
See, maybe Seokjin had always treasured Jimin, but after that night, Jimin herself couldn't stay away from Seokjin, drawn to him like a moth to the light, plenty content walking a few extra steps just to rest her chin on his shoulder, purposefully sitting next to him at meals if only so he could feed her from his own chopsticks more often, getting in the car at the same time as him so she could inevitably fall asleep, but this time on his shoulder.
Jimin thought by now she'd caught the members giving her more than a few glances, curious, mostly, but she wasn't going to confront it, she was already doing enough to risk jeopardising the group just by existing. Though none of them would ever say that, words usually reserved to random staff members she had the displeasure of overhearing. In any case, she wasn't about to make it worse by admitting that she was falling for one of the members, not to them, and not to herself either.
She didn't need to confront it or acknowledge it, anyway. It wouldn't do the group any good, least of all Seokjin, and more than anything, she was content simply to be with him, be with them. So what if her heart fluttered when Seokjin sent a particular smile her way? She was sure ARMY felt the same and they sure as hell weren't about to date the man. Relating to her fans made it all too easy to justify her growing feelings.
Well, up to a certain point at least, really she should have known it would all blow up in her face.
Jimin just couldn't help herself, how was she supposed to when Seokjin was -- fuck, Seokjin.
It came to them on a night like any other, nothing special or extravagant about it, maybe the hearty meal and the two beers had made time and space a little too syrupy, or maybe it was the fact that none of the other members were spending their evening at the dorm, but slow conversation had easily turned into just, looking, observing.
The easiest task of all time when it came to their eldest, really, he wasn't called worldwide handsome for nothing, the truth achingly apparent, his plump lips sinful, and the alcohol added just enough of a flush to Seokjin's cheeks, making him look just a little out of breath. His hair was still out of the way, styled to frame his face for an earlier photoshoot, captivating eyes on full display.
Jimin couldn't have stopped herself from leaning in if she tried, really, at least, not until Seokjin grabbed her hand instead. She ignored the pale sting of rejection, plausible deniability, right? There was no better defense mechanism; she wasn't going to kiss Seokjin, just, brush off the eyelash that had most definitely fallen to his cheek. His next words threw her off, though.
"There's something wrong with me, Min-ah." Seokjin had said, almost inaudibly. "There's something really wrong with me."
Far from what she expected, maybe it was rude to find the intrajection out of the blue, nevertheless, it confused her either way. She didn't believe there was anything wrong with him, not in the sombre way he seemed to be implying. "What do you mean oppa, no there isn't --"
"I like you. I really like you."
Jimin furrowed her brows, as much as she wanted to feel elated at the words, Seokjin didn't look all too happy to be saying them, did he think he was the one being rejected? Maybe it wasn't that, though, Jimin felt a but coming. She tried to push through it. "I really like you too --"
Seokjin cut her off, eyes downcast, a self-deprecating sort of smile on his face, and Jimin so desperately wanted the tranquil countenance she'd seen on him only ten minutes ago to return. "It's not the same. I don't. . . I don't think I wanna have sex."
It barely took a second for Jimin's throat to close up, of course. Of course he wouldn't, because Seokjin was straight, and no matter how much Jimin tried to pretend, she didn't have a vagina, she didn't have boobs, she had none of it. Seokjin could like her all he wanted, but in the end, she'd always be faulty goods. She tried to smile past her quickly watering eyes. "That's fine, hyung, I get it."
Seokjin's face twisted, perturbed. "I'm not your hyung."
Jimin nodded, tight-lipped, words scarce, and Seokjin's frown deepened even further.
"Say it. What am I?"
"I. . ."
"Say it."
"My oppa." Jimin whispered, finally, hands curled tight as Seokjin nodded. The word felt almost like sandpaper in her mouth, little of the usual joy it brought her coming up. She wasn't sure it felt right to call him that now, a feeling that hadn't touched her in years, for all she tried to set it aside and tamp it down now, for him.
"That's it. Good girl."
She felt her insides swoop at that, a term he'd never used before, but the wood was too damp to light a fire, and the house felt cold even with a blanket. "I'm sorry I can't be what you want me to be, oppa."
Seokjin's eyes zeroed in on her expression then, sharp. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Jimin inhaled, deep, stuttered. "I'm sorry I'm not good enough for sex, that I don't have a- a-"
Seokjin's eyes had widened dramatically, and in an instant he was on the floor, kneeling in front of her, both her hands in his, and maybe she wanted to cry. "No, baby no -- that's not what I meant at all. Not at all."
The waterworks were already there, anyway, and she sniffled, looking down at him through tear-stained lashes, and he still looked beautiful, and her heart was breaking.
"Jimin-ah, I need you to listen to oppa very carefully now, can you do that for me?" He waited for her to nod, patient, his thumb brushing back and forth on the back of her hand, soothing. "You are more than good enough, you're perfect to me, I couldn't care less what parts you have or what parts you don't, you're the loveliest woman I've ever met. The problem isn't you, Min-ah, it will never be you. Tell me, do you know what asexuality is?"
She steeled herself, trying to take even breaths through it all, thinking, for a moment. The term felt familiar, but she couldn't say she knew it, going based on pure semantics though. . . "No sexuality?" She asked quietly, a little muddled.
Seokjin smiled at her though, kind. "You're not far off. Asexuality is a broad label, most easily defined as the lack of desire to have sex. It's a wide spectrum, some people are aromantic too, and aren't interested in romance either, some only experience sexual attraction once they really like a person for who they are, everyone's different." He paused to let her condense the information. "I'm asexual, Min-ah."
Jimin sniffled again. "You don't. . . you don't like sex?"
"I'm not interested in it baby." He answered gently.
"Oh."
They sat there for a few more minutes, and Jimin was thankful for Seokjin and his endless tolerance for her thinking time. The weight of the moment eased as he delicately ran his fingers over her skin. She didn't need to think all that much about it anyway. She'd always support him, always love him, no matter what, a vital root in this little makeshift family of theirs.
"Are you. . . do you still like me? Even. . . even without the sex?"
Seokjin's smile was surely enough to set a whole room aglow in soft lighting. "More than anything, baby."
Jimin had to giggle at that, her oppa was just too cute, too endearing, kneeling in front of her for whatever reason, maybe to look less intimidating, or more sincere, either way, she was sure he must be the most darling, compassionate man she'd ever met. "Do you like kissing?" She asked, a tad shy, playing with his hands.
"Kissing you? It sounds like a dream."
She must be having a serotonin rush, delighted and carefree, she leaned down to loudly leave a kiss on his forehead, pulling back just in time to catch his off-guard expression, and when it morphed to a smile, she only felt emboldened and lovesick. She planted kiss ever kiss, all over his face, both sides of his forehead, the corner of his jaw, the swell of his cheeks, the button of his nose. When he pressed forward to join her on the sofa again, lips meeting hers, Jimin wasn't sure when the last time she'd felt this fervent sense of exhilaration, smiling into the kiss, pulling back just to giggle and breathe, before pulling him ever closer again, his hands a dizzying weight on her waist, on her nape.
"You have no idea how many years I've wanted to do that for." Seokjin breathed out, eyes steady on hers. "I'd have waited another lifetime, too, for you."
Jimin had never felt this loved. "Yeah? Why didn't you, then?" She questioned, poking his cheek softly.
"I wasn't sure you'd accept me, like this, I know it's not exactly ideal for a lot of people, and you've had hook-ups with Jeongguk and Taehyung before so I guess I just assumed. . ." He shrugged. "You can still, if they want to, if you want to, you can still do that with them, I don't mind. Promise. I'm not the jealous type."
Jimin hummed. "Maybe. If I do I'll let you know, but I have toys too, you know. Not having a partner to have sex with isn't the end of the world."
Seokjin nosed at her jaw languidly. "It's up to you baby, I'm just letting you know the option is there, all I ever want is for you to be happy."
Her heart must be sick of swelling for now, and she pulled back just to grab hold of his face, cradling him gently, watching his eyes flutter closed, hearing him breathe in the slow, textured air, and she couldn't quite believe how lucky she was. "Maybe it's too early," She started, eyes unable to drift from him. "It's only been a day, not even half an hour, really, but it's also been years."
When she looked at Seokjin, when she heard him, and thought of him too, she always felt awash with this deep-seated sense of reverence, the type that could only be built with years of steady devotion, and as much as she could say she held it for all their members, being loved by Seokjin, in any way he'd have her, felt akin to drinking ambrosia, medicinal in the way he ameliorated her. She didn't have to wait for the right moment, not with him, the right moment had simply been every second since she'd met him, and would continue to be every second she'd ever spend with him.
"I love you."
She felt him relax under her, his arm pulling her closer by the waist, his eyes opening, dusted with stars and everything that made the universe shine. She knew then, unequivocally, that Seokjin reciprocated every last feeling she had about him, and her soul felt at home. His next words only proved her further. "I love you too."