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It’s 6:23AM on a Friday morning.
Namjoon doesn’t usually wake up this early. This year - his last year of college - he’s finally figured out the way to get around the system and have only one class that starts before noon, and that’s econ - 10AM. He even deleted the 6:30, 6:35, 6:40 and 6:45 alarms off his phone, kind of sort of ceremoniously, maybe sort of victoriously. Taehyung had watched, looking less than impressed.
But today he’s definitely not complaining. There’s soft light coming in through the window, kind of like the light a sunset will cast. It’s better, though - somehow softer, somehow lighter, ethereal as he watches the way it moves across Jimin’s cheek, pillowed on his chest.
Yeah. This is nice. Waking up to Jimin is nice.
It’s soft. Jimin’s cheek is soft. Maybe Namjoon can’t feel through his pajama shirt but Jimin looks soft, baby hairs catching a little light in front of his ears, soft in the way the he has draped himself over Namjoon like a starfish.
Alright, so Namjoon might have a problem. Waking up like this is nice, but maybe a little too nice if the half-mast squished under Jimin’s thigh is anything to go by. Namjoon is pretty much fully awake at this point, and the situation is equal parts stressful and frustrating.
Stressful because they’ve been dating for three months and haven’t once gone past enthusiastically making out on the couch or bed. Frustrating because Namjoon can no longer refuse to admit to himself that he doesn’t need to.
The evidence is right here. Namjoon has a soft thigh on his dick and it’s terrifying. Because if he moves, even twitches a little bit, the friction sends goosebumps all over. Because Namjoon knows this thigh, has seen it half-bare on hot summer days in Jimin’s shortest pair of shorts, and Namjoon knows the duality of this thigh. It might be soft now, but there’s an underlying muscle that makes it hard for Jimin to buy jeans in local stores, a fact that Jimin had disclosed with pure, ticked-off intentions, and Namjoon had filed away with...not pure intentions. At all.
It’s early, and Namjoon has a habit of being much more honest when he’s still discombobulated from sleep, so it’s not with a lot of shame or regret that he admits to himself that yes, he has a thing for Jimin’s thighs. Yes, he has subtly and appreciatively subtly eyed the curve of Jimin’s ass on a semi-regular basis. It’s a nice ass. It’s sculpted like something straight out of the Metropolitan Museum of Art - a hard left from the front desk, smack dab in the middle of the section labeled “Greek and Roman” on the handout map. Namjoon has not seen it bare, but apparently he hadn’t needed to, because Namjoon has to admit to himself that during the past two-and-a-half months, that ass has been one of the main highlights of his shower fantasies.
Namjoon has no problem taking it slow. But something’s gotta give here, at some point soon, because if Jimin moves he might just make a really awkward noise, and these kinds of situations are not the ones Namjoon’s hoping to land himself into.
It was easy to fall asleep together. It’s Namjoon’s bed, big enough for both of them. The sheets had been recently laundered (thanks to Hoseok refusing for him to put off laundry a single day longer) and the smell of detergent, not too strong, was so comfortable, so refreshing and right. With Jimin holding his hand, nosing him affectionately in the cheek, he’d nodded off within ten minutes.
But without a doubt, it is proving way harder - ten times harder - to wake up.
A voice in Namjoon’s head mutters something inappropriate, sounding an awful lot like Seokjin. (Can we save the dick jokes for later? Like maybe never later, Jin?)
“What time is it,” Jimin mumbles, and Namjoon almost jumps right off the bed.
“...really early,” Namjoon says after a minute, feeling some kind of twitchy because that means Jimin is awake, and Jimin hasn’t moved yet - except suddenly Jimin does move - first by rolling away, to stretch his calves and curl his toes and nearly poke himself in the eye when he scratches his nose; then by rolling back and draping himself right over Namjoon again so that they’re chest to chest. Jimin blinks at him, sleepy. Smiles. Leans forward so that his forearms become a frame for either side of Namjoon’s head. Then Jimin leans a little bit more, and kisses him.
Namjoon is very awake, but his self control is still deep in REM, apparently, because when his stomach does that little flip-flop-slash-melty thing at having Jimin kiss him like this, the sound he makes against Jimin’s mouth is not a kind of sound he knew he was capable of making.
The kiss is slow. The kiss is Jimin, arms around him, lips soft and sleep-swollen, smiling against his mouth. The kiss is Namjoon chasing him back, hardly able to breathe when his chest is so full and about to burst with something unidentifiable.
Jimin pulls back, his nose bumping Namjoon’s along the way. He leaves a kiss high on Namjoon’s cheekbone. Another, on his chin, and then he puts his head in his hands and leans there supported on his elbows.
Somehow Namjoon’s hands have moved, one at rest on Jimin’s hip, the other on the back of his leg where his thigh begins. Jimin straddles him just high enough that all he needs to do is sit back and Namjoon will be painfully obvious, right up against his ass.
Not that that’s necessarily a bad thing.
Jimin is pliant when Namjoon sits up to chase another kiss, forward enough to shift Jimin into his lap. Namjoon kisses more insistent this time - with one hand to hold the curve of his jaw, the other finding its way under Jimin to the firm, smooth skin at the juncture between his thigh and hipbone.
This kiss is just as good as the last, Jimin just as willing as him. It starts off steady, a measured push and pull, but by the end, Namjoon is breathless and trembly. They pull back for air and Namjoon gives his neck a break, rests his head on Jimin’s shoulder. Stares down at the position of their legs and hips, neither of which have moved. Namjoon is sure that there’s no way he’s gone unnoticed. He’s hard, and there’s no half about it.
His next move is slow - Namjoon pushes Jimin back, onto his back, onto the bed, until now he’s in a position similar to what Jimin’s had been before, with his hands flat and his elbows locked to hold him up. They hold eye contact as Namjoon tips downward, until they’re deep in another kiss, again.
The kiss becomes less tongue and more of an attempt to get closer, until Namjoon finally finds himself with his nose behind Jimin’s ear, no longer over him with support from his hands, his hips falling to grind down, slow.
Jimin makes a sound, something robbed from his lungs, surprised and a little choked, his whole lower body surging further into the sheets.
Namjoon mouths his way down, not a kiss and not a lick, just an open-mouthed touch, and grinds again.
This time Jimin giggles, hot in his ear. The sound is equal parts tempting and torture. Namjoon presses forward, groans with the friction. Namjoon can't see his face, not while stretching down to taste the juncture between collar and neck, but he can picture it, full lips parting with a moan. Jimin giggles again, breathe and higher in pitch. Namjoon smiles, pushes forward more as Jimin pushes back -
And then Jimin's pushing a lot, too much, actually. Enough to tip Namjoon off the mattress, which is a lot. Jimin just shoved him off the bed, what the hell? Namjoon lands on his side, more surprising than painful.
“What was that for?”
Jimin peers over at him. He looks nervous.
Wait, what?
“Um,” Jimin says, and forces out another giggle. It no longer sounds good - actually it sounds really, really uncomfortable. “I'm sorry. Are you okay? I wasn't trying to-”
“Are you for real?” Namjoons cock, despite himself, is so hard it hurts. He takes a moment to climb on the bed. Laughs even though his pride is a little bruised, because it was kinda hot to get shoved around like that. “The teasing, baby, I like it but that actually hurt -”
“I'm not teasing you,” Jimin says, quietly. “I'm not um, I'm not really in the, um, mood. To have sex.”
Namjoon stares. Jimin is sort of smiling, looking super guilty, rubbing the knuckles of his right hand with his left. He sure doesn’t look like he’s messing with Namjoon.
“Are you playing with me right now?”
Jimin kind of - jerks. The smile drops, his eyes go so big.
Namjoon flops back, groans. “You are serious! Fuck. Fuck me this is the worst case of blueballs ever!”
He sighs. Palms himself hard, but it doesn't feel like relief anymore, so he sits back up, and Jimin is still sitting in the middle of the bed, still making himself small, and it’s weird how Namjoon can be so frustrated and attracted to him at the same time. Jimin’s hair is up, off his forehead, dark and messy, a little curly at his temple. Namjoon stares at him and realizes a delayed moment later that Jimin has gone tearyeyed.
Namjoon’s hands go cold.
“I’m sorry,” Jimin says. “I just - I didn’t mean, like.” He hiccups, the motion finally spilling tears. “It’s not that I don’t like you. I’m sorry.”
Namjoon is the biggest asshole ever. He is the worst human being on the face on the entire earth. Namjoon made Park Jimin cry over his pathetic inability to keep it in his fucking pants for once in his Goddamn lifetime.
“I just, wasn’t. It’s not like you’re not, um.”
“Jimin -”
“I’m sorry, I just didn’t think -”
“God, Jimin, no,” Namjoon says, furious at himself and then some when Jimin’s face crumples again. “Wait, no! Don’t be sorry, fuck, I’m such a tool, there’s no reason for you to apologize to me, Jesus Jimin I’m fucking awful, I’m the one who should be saying sorry -”
Namjoon scoots forward and has to hesitate when Jimin holds an arm up and turns his head away and cries more, quietly, eyes screwed shut.
“I can’t believe I said that, I fucked up and I didn’t mean it Jimin you don’t need - like you don’t owe me that, or anything, I just thought that you, like, I don’t know, God I’m an asshole -”
He can’t sit here and do nothing while Jimin cries, but he braces himself for Jimin to pull back even as he only reaches far enough to touch Jimin’s wrist, just his fingertips to his pulse.
“You have to know that. You don’t deserve that, why would I even say that it’s such a shitty thing to do and you have every right to...to change your mind or not want to or whatever. I didn’t think and I totally pushed too far and you should never apologize for shoving me off the bed, fuck, you should’ve kicked me out and that would’ve been totally justified Jimin don’t apologize, I’m the one who should apologize-”
Jimin presses the fingers of both hands into his eyes and shudders, breathes in rough and uneven. He lets Namjoon have his hand on Jimin’s arm but stays like that and doesn't take his hands away from his face.
Namjoon still hasn’t actually apologized, like the fuck-head he is, and he realizes this now, late again.
“I’m sorry, Jimin.” he says, lowering his voice, because he’d definitely gotten loud and ranty, and now he was realizing that, too. “I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”
“I didn’t,” Jimin whispers. “You’re right.”
“You said you didn’t want to and that should’ve been it. I’m sorry,” Namjoon says. He pulls a little on Jimin’s wrist, and Jimin lets him, drops his other hand and opens his eyes.
This is not the first time Namjoon has made someone cry. He’s made his mom cry before, and he’s not proud that it’s happened enough times he lost count. He’s made Hoseok cry twice, though the second time was by extension (taking him to see Toy Story 3 in theatres did not have the intended result of cheering him up), and Seokjin, well. With Seokjin that one time, Namjoon was never quite sure if he’d walked off to cry or punch a pillow. In the end the outcome would've probably been the same - Seokjin returning with a red face and a grudge that lasted a week.
Namjoon has made people cry before and he’s not proud by any means, but this is the first time he’s ever felt fully responsible and immoral in doing so. No part of Namjoon thinks himself justified. This is probably one of the worst things he’s ever done to another person.
Jimin sighs. He lays back and curls up across the bed, back into the soft light, but he looks tired this time, instead of peaceful.
“This is terrible,” he says, after a minute. “I feel terrible.”
Namjoon bites his lip, resists the urge to hug him or hold him or something.
Jimin sniffs wetly. “I kind of hoped I was being paranoid by thinking this would happen eventually.”
“I’m not with you because I’m attracted to you,” Namjoon blurts out.
Jimin raises his eyebrows. Finally looks at him, as much of an invitation to go on as he’s gonna get.
“Wait, I mean - I am, just not - that’s not, um, it’s not the reason I wanna be with you. I don’t wanna be with you just because I find you physically attractive.” Namjoon says. “You know that,” he adds, quietly.
Jimin chews on a nail and lets him go on (probably to stuff his foot in his mouth again.)
“I’m with you because you’re you. I don’t...I’m like, really not suited for relationships that revolve around sex. Which totally makes me sound like a lying contradictory fuckhead, I know, but I’m seriously not with you because I’m expecting you to put out or because I think that even needs to be a component in our relationship.”
Namjoon frowns. None of this is making any sense in his head, and the words are coming out in kind.
“I’m with you because I like you as a person. Because I do. I like you a lot. And I’m with you because I like spending time with you and talking to you and spending time together. And yes I find you attractive, I find your thoughts and your questions and your ability to work hard and yeah, I do think you’re hot too. But that’s like, a plus. What the hell, not a plus, sorry, just like...I don’t know, a secondary thing, you get me?
“What I’m trying to say is that if intercourse is a later down the road thing or even...an off the table entirely thing, I’m cool with it either way. That’s not why I’m with you. I’m not with you because I want you like some sort of sex object or something -”
Jimin flinches.
“- I’m with you because I have a huge-ass crush on you and you somehow, miraculously, you’ve expressed that you reciprocate that.
“If wanting that from you means not being with you - put it this way, if I gotta pick between being with you, and not being with you, I wanna be with you. End of story. And that doesn’t factor in - that. Like that’s not a component of it. I like you a lot. I’m not gonna regret waiting. Or not waiting. Okay? That’s all.”
Jimin stares at him.
"Does that not make any-"
“I’m gonna tell you right now that it might be a permanently off the table thing. Are you sure you’re good with that?”
It’s a challenge.
Not a challenge, just - the way Jimin looks at him, it’s a serious question. It’s an opportunity to cop-out, or change his mind, but it’s also a chance. And Namjoon takes that chance, here in the 6:47AM morning light. Goes to Jimin and hugs him, pressing his face straight into his stomach.
“I’m sorry about earlier. I know it might take some time to prove it after the mess of things I made today, but...yeah. Yes,” Namjoon says. “I’m good with that.”
“Good.” Jimin says. And then it’s like he deflates, the tension let out almost completely.
“Are you crying?”
Jimin sniffs. “Yeah.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Not cus of you, it’s just. Baggage, I guess. It’s only kind of related.” Jimin sighs. He doesn’t elaborate. It’s not the time nor Namjoon’s place to ask. Maybe another day. Maybe never.
“I’m sorry for making you cry earlier.”
“Well.”
“Seriously.”
“That was only partly your fault, too. But thanks.”
Fingers find their way to Namjoon’s hair, run through it carefully. Namjoon is tired but he’s nowhere near falling asleep.
How long does he wait to catch one of Jimin’s hands in his own? A while. How long before he risks glancing up? A little more, but Jimin is nobody to be wary of. He’s blotchy-faced and tired. Namjoon takes his hand and kisses the palm, Jimin’s fingers closing over his nose a little.
“This is kind of the worst possible way to kick a shitty day,” Jimin says, thumb resting on Namjoon’s cheek.
“Sorry. I’ll make you breakfast?” he offers.
Jimin makes a face. “You wanna make it shittier?”
Namjoon tries again, props his chin on Jimin’s ribcage. “I’ll buy you breakfast?”
Jimin’s trying not to, but Namjoon can very clearly see his smile. “Okay.”
“Or we could sleep a little more first. Start the day over again.”
“Fifteen more minutes.”
It’s Jimin, holding his hand and pulling him to eye level, so that they can curl into each other comfortably again. It’s Jimin, reaching over him for a tissue and blowing his nose. It’s neither of them falling asleep but it’s Jimin, giving him another chance.