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If there is only one thing Park Jimin could choose to be his favorite thing in the world, it would be holding Kim Namjoon’s hands. Namjoon has large hands which Jimin can fit his whole palm in; arms lean enough that Jimin loves running his hand along it – though not as muscular as his, obviously, but still, Jimin loves it nonetheless; and fingers so long, thin and beautiful when compared to Jimin’s own short and stubby ones.
Park Jimin simply loves holding Kim Namjoon’s hands.
Despite what he loves about it, he has never told the older as much. Because how could he? Namjoon sees him only as a friend, a younger brother probably, but never more. Despite how Namjoon takes his breath away when he smiles, dimples out for the whole world to see, eyes growing into slits as he laugh, Jimin knows Namjoon only cares for him like how he cares for the other members.
Jimin just knows..
*
“Jimin. Park Jimin. Earth to Jiminie.”
Namjoon snaps his fingers in front of the younger’s face after seeing him staring into the distance (which is nothing, really. Jimin is just staring at the mirror in their practice studio, probably deep into his own eyes, which is weird, because who does that, but apparently one Park Jimin does).
Jimin blinks, his eyes refocusing on Namjoon’s face in front of him.
“Hyung!”
“Yes, Jiminie. What were you thinking about?”
“Nothing.”
Namjoon raises one eyebrow. “Sure,” he says slowly, nodding. “Anyway, everyone’s going out for dinner later. Are you coming with?” Namjoon jerks his head towards the other members who are gathering their stuffs to go back to their dorm after a long day of schedule and practice.
“Of course! I’m so hungry I need food like ASAP,” Jimin groans. His stomach rumbles right on cue, as if agreeing with its owner.
Namjoon smirks as he holds out on hand to Jimin. Jimin’s eyes widen, mind going back to his reverie earlier. Namjoon’s large palms right in front of him, Namjoon himself offering it like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
Of course it’s the most normal thing in the world. People do it all the time. He’s just helping you up. What else is there to be about? Pfft. Jimin chides himself silently in his head.
“Jimiin,” Namjoon singsongs his name, wiggling his fingers.
Jimin has been staring at his hand and he genuinely wonders if he has dirt under his nails or a bruise from where he fell from his bed this morning or maybe a cut he doesn’t realize he got from helping Seokjin in the kitchen yesterday (he swears he didn’t chop anything! He was just standing there looking while Seokjin cooked) or something.
Something, Namjoon thinks.
Jimin blinks again and this time a slight blush tints his cheeks. He smiles brightly at Namjoon, reaching for his hand and Namjoon pulls him up. All at once everything suddenly becomes a blur of motion as Jimin’s foot catches on his shoe lace and he stumbles, Namjoon’s reflex acting fast as he opens his arms, just in time for Jimin to fall into him. It would have been on the edge of embarrassing if he had shrieked loudly, but as it is, Jimin lets out a monotonous “Ack!” while Namjoon grunts as Jimin’s weight crushes him into the hardwood floor.
The others turn back at the sound of the commotion, Seokjin already halfway towards them. Jungkook comes over, too, cackling loudly.
“Are you guys okay?” Seokjin asks while helping Jimin up.
(Jungkook is still laughing loudly, hitting his thighs as he doubles over.)
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Jimin answers, the tips of his ears a light shade of red.
Namjoon gets up with a huff, massaging his butt. “Damn, Minnie, those workouts are turning your muscles into bricks.”
Jimin grins apologetically. “Sorry, hyung.”
Namjoon really can’t get mad at Jimin. How could he? Jimin is his sunshine, after all. His smile alone is enough to tingle every cell of Namjoon’s body. His laughter reverberates deep into Namjoon’s bones. And well.. Namjoon is going to leave it at that. If he goes any further, there will be a bigger bone that reverberates. Ehem.
Namjoon grins back and musses the younger’s hair. Seokjin and Jungkook are already walking ahead of them, so they follow behind. He nonchalantly drapes one arm across the other’s shoulder, and Jimin instinctively wraps his own arm around Namjoon’s waist, making his ear burn until he’s sure that Namjoon is able to feel it through the small space they have in between.
*
The boys are waiting backstage for their turn to perform at the Summer Festival music show. It is scorching hot outside, the weather burning their skin even when they walked the short distance from their car to the performers’ tent when they first arrived. It’s a good thing that such a big, standing fan is provided at each idol’s cubicle, the kind that blows water mist along. It’s so cooling.
They had just wrapped up their rehearsals an hour ago, had their hair and make-up done, had changed into their stage outfits, and are currently having some healthy snacks prepared by their fans.
Hoseok is taking selcas to post his thanks up in their Twitter page, Taehyung doing the peace sign behind him; Yoongi is taking his precious 5-minute-naps on the couch while Jungkook nods off beside him; Seokjin is goofing off in front of the Bangtan Bomb camera; Namjoon is listening to music on his phone, his face occasionally contorting as he mouths the lyrics.
Jimin stands right in front of the big fan, holding the hem of his shirt up so that cool air can enter under it. The heat really is something. It’s a good thing he is given denim shorts this time instead of the usual black skinny jeans which is uncomfortable in the heat because, 1) it’s tight, and 2) because it’s black.
Jimin lets his head fall back midair, and catches Namjoon looking. Namjoon doesn’t seem to notice Jimin looking at him yet, and as Jimin continue looking, the leader has a slight tint of blush on the apple of his cheeks. Namjoon tries to focus on his phone, but somehow his eyes like to skirt over back to the younger. Jimin flaps the hem of his shirt to get more cool air to enter, a sliver of skin showing, abs line obvious, and Namjoon seems to turn pink even more.
When Namjoon finally realizes the other looking at him, Jimin is wearing a light blush on his cheeks himself. The older quickly averts his gaze back to his phone and never once he lifts his eyes again.
Jimin takes a seat beside Namjoon and the older yanks his earphones out.
“Whatchu up to, hyung?”
“Reading yesterday’s interview.”
“I see,” Jimin says, scratching his nose, which he does more out of habit than really scratching.
Namjoon finally looks up and his eyes follow Jimin’s movement.
“Hey, are those new rings?” he asks.
“Yeah, I got them a few days ago when I went shopping with Tae.”
The leader puts down his phone and reaches for both of Jimin’s hands.
Jimin’s heart does a little flutter. Namjoon’s hands really are big. They are so much wider in contrast when Namjoon is holding his hands. They can probably fit two of Jimin’s in one of his.
Namjoon pulls Jimin’s hands closer to him. He absentmindedly rubs Jimin’s knuckles with his thumbs as he observes the latter’s new silver rings. His touch is soft and Jimin can feel his own heart beating rapidly behind his ribs. As Namjoon rolls Jimin’s rings slowly, taking in the intricate design, he mutters a breathy, “It’s so pretty.”
When Namjoon turns Jimin’s palms up, the younger swears he hears his heart screaming loudly before it shreds itself into tiny pieces as Namjoon traces his finger along the lines on Jimin’s palm. His breathing hitches as Namjoon presses tiny pressures with his thumbs, lightly massaging Jimin’s hands.
He doesn’t realize that his breathing rate is increasing, and when Namjoon finally, finally, wraps Jimin’s hands with his, the dancer stops breathing altogether.
Namjoon looks up and Jimin is sure his face is the colour of a beetroot, but Namjoon doesn’t say anything. He smiles instead, his eyes turning into slits, his dimples demanding attention, and he squeezes Jimin’s hands.
“I like your new rings. They’re pretty.”
Jimins takes a couple of deep breaths to come down from his high.
“I can give you one if you want.”
Namjoon’s smile widens. He knows how much the younger loves his rings, and yet he’s asking if Namjoon wants one. Namjoon doesn’t really want one, he has a lot of his own, too, though not as much as Jimin. But it’s a chance.
“So I can keep something of yours?” he asks.
Jimin’s heart flips its tiny torn pieces.
“So you can keep something of mine,” he replies with a smile.
*
It’s Saturday night and they have no schedules tomorrow. No photoshoots, no recordings, no lessons. It’s finally a free weekend after a long time.
Yoongi had bought bottles of beer while Hoseok snuggled in whisky, rum, vodka, tequila and absinthe (Jimin doesn’t know how he got that last one, but he got it) in his backpack.
Hoseok is absolutely drunk, his speech slurring but his dance moves are sharp as ever as he dances to Holler. Jimin and Jungkook are dancing by his sides, laughing at each other’s drunken dancing. Seokjin and Yoongi had a few shots of each alcohol and each of them have a bottle of beer by their feet but somehow they’re still in control of themselves, battling out in Street Fighter on their Wii. Taehyung is drunk on his own concoctions of weird drinks, and apparently he’s having a heated discussion with the wall about a compromise not to drill anymore holes if you promise not to let anyone else hears what goes on behind closed doors, because that is just rude, you had one job!
Namjoon is just slightly less drunk than Yoongi, but the room still spins if he moves his head a bit too quickly. The absinthe shot they took earlier still burns his throat, and he downs the last bit of beer in his bottle to extinguish the flame.
Jimin comes over to where he’s sitting at the furthest part of the sofa with two new bottles of beer and a cheerful smile stretching across his angelic features, eyes turning into tiny half-moon crescents. He hands Namjoon a bottle and the leader takes it readily, thanking him. Jimin seats himself beside Namjoon on the sofa, leaning into him naturally and the older smiles fondly at him.
“Hey, Joonie hyung.”
“Hey, Minnie. You good?”
“Yeah. I feel so bubbly right now,” Jimin giggles.
Namjoon rumbles a low chuckle under his breath.
“Hangover’s gonna be a bitch tomorrow.”
“Well, it’s gonna be worth it. When was the last time we had fun like this?”
“Ouch, Minnie,” Namjoon says, rubbing his temples. “Do I have to try and remember? Because my brain’s not really up for it.”
Jimin’s laugh perks him up.
“Seriously,” Namjoon continues. “Remembering takes hard work. Even talking takes hard work right now. I have to listen carefully, and then process what you said, and then try to understand it.. It is just too much to do in my current state. And I really think I’m getting a headache just by talking.”
Jimin throws his body at Namjoon in his full blown laughter.
“Hyung! You’re the one saying stuffs that are difficult for me to understand.”
Namjoon laughs quietly.
“Let’s just agree not to talk?”
“Agreed,” Jimin says, hiding his mouth behind his hand as if to stifle his giggles.
Namjoon peeks from the corner of his eyes and sees the younger doubling over in silent laughter and it somehow warms his heart.
Drunk Jimin is giggly. Drunk Jimin is happy. Drunk Jimin makes Namjoon wants to wrap his arms around the younger and kiss him until he can’t breathe; kiss him just so that Namjoon can see the drunk-blush on his cheeks deepen its colour; kiss him and maybe hear his name coming out from the younger’s lips in a breathy sigh.
Namjoon bites the inside of his cheeks and stands up to leave. He can’t stay beside Jimin and have thoughts like this.
For a moment Jimin panics, and he quickly grabs Namjoon’s hand.
“Hyung?”
Namjoon forgots that Drunk Jimin is paranoid, too.
“Yeah, Minnie?“
“Please stay?” Jimin pleads, his eyes shining under the fluorescent light, his grip tightening.
Namjoon sits back down and lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Locking his fingers with the younger’s, he meets Jimin’s eyes.
“You want me to stay?”
“Yes, please.”
“Why?”
“Just because.”
“Just because?” Namjoon asks.
“Just because,” Jimin confirms, feeling a wave of heat crawling up his neck.
“Okay,” Namjoon says, leaning back against the sofa.
Jimin is quick to put his head on Namjoon’s lap, scared that maybe his hyung might not want to actually be there. But when he feels Namjoon’s fingers carding through his hair softly, he relaxes and his eyes flutter close. He grabs the leader’s free hand which is resting on his chest and locks their fingers together.
Namjoon's hand is big and wide, and Jimin's is small and mini, and fitting himself into the elder feels like coming home - welcoming and so so right.
Namjoon’s warm hand squeezes his lightly, and he smiles with his eyes closed.
*
Rushed footsteps are heard on their dorm’s hardwood floor, heading fast towards Namjoon’s room. Jungkook is playing with Taehyung in their living room, leaving Namjoon alone in their room to take the chance to get some shut eye.
His door opens unkindly, as if the person opening it doesn’t really care that Namjoon is trying to rest.
“Hyung.”
Namjoon’s eyes flutter open.
“Minnie,” he replies, pushing himself into a sitting position slowly.
“Hyung, did you wear my brief boxers again?”
“What-“
Namjoon shoots Jimin an annoyed look. Jimin is wearing a similar expression on his face – a bit more puffy, in fact, because Jimin huffs his cheeks when he’s angry.
And Namjoon would have find it cute, too, if it’s not directed to him, specifically in this particular situation.
He didn’t get much sleep last night, nor did he get any sleep the day before. He’s just not in the mood for whatever Jimin’s indication in his tone is about.
“I know they’re both the same but didn’t we promise to write our initials on our own boxers?”
“Jimin, I didn’t wear your boxers.”
“Hyung, there’s a black CK boxers with the initials ‘JM’ in the laundry basket.”
“Check again. It’s written ‘RM’. It’s mine.”
“Hyung. Stop lying. You do this all the time,” Jimin snaps.
Namjoon bites the inside of his cheeks and simply stares at Jimin. To hear Seokjin or Hoseok telling him off is normal, but to hear something like that from Jimin, it clicks something inside him. Something that hurts.
Namjoon doesn’t even know why it hurts. He doesn’t usually get offended easily.
Maybe it’s the fatigue.
“I’d rather wear my old boxers a week straight than to go look for some similar underwear in a different room in a different drawer. You might want to recheck your “neat and tidy” space again, Park Jimin. I may be messy, but I know my mess.”
With that Namjoon falls back into his bed, heart beating fast in annoyance, and he hears Jimin huffing in response.
Jimin walks back to his room, determine to prove Namjoon wrong. Jimin is sure which boxers is whose, he always has. There is no way he doesn’t recognize his own initials.
He makes a beeline straight to his underwear drawer, where he keeps his briefs and socks, and rummages through the neatly folded garments.
See, its’s not here.
Jimin had wanted to wear that CK boxers this morning because he felt particularly good when he woke up, but he couldn’t find it anywhere. He had racked his brain thinking to the time he last that he wore that particular underwear, but he couldn’t place exactly when. He had checked their laundry room after dinner, and there it was, lying underneath a couple of Namjoon’s t-shirts and pants. He had pulled it out, checked the tag and as clear as day, ‘JM’ was written with marker pen on it. The ‘J’ had faded due to multiple washes, but Jimin was not mistaken. Namjoon had clearly worn his boxers again, even though he had promised not to. It’s one thing to take Jimin’s stuff without asking, but to lie about it-
Huh.
He finds a pair of black boxer briefs pushed up against the back wall of the drawer, buried under all the other garments. He must have had missed it this morning. Just as he pulls the garment, he sees the label Calvin Klein written in white on the hem of the boxer.
Fuck.
He checks the tag, and yup, there you go. ‘JM’.
Shit. Jimin feels guilty now. He rushes to the laundry room and checks the boxers that he found this morning.
‘RM’.
Ergh. He really feels guilty. Now what should he do?
Rubbing his hand on his face, he exits the room quietly.
Jimin can’t sleep that night. He tosses and turns, but sleep doesn’t come. He checks his phone and groans internally. It’s 3:30am.
Hoseok had went to bed right after his shower, while Taehyung had claimed the living room and declared a movie night with Jungkook. The dorm had long since gone quiet, each of its tenants going to sleep at their own time.
Jimin lays in his bed, thinking of his action that evening. He had wanted to apologize to Namjoon immediately after his discovery, but his pride held him off. And now, his guilt is eating him from the inside, making him restless.
He gets out of bed quietly, opens the door quietly, and walks to Namjoon’s room quietly.
He peeps inside and sees Namjoon sleeping with one arm draped over his eyes, the covers pulled halfway across his chest. Acting purely on compulsion, Jimin squats next to the bed, right next to Namjoon’s head.
“Hyung,” he whispers.
No answer.
“Hyung,” he tries again, touching the leader’s hand.
“Minnie?” Namjoon stirs, voice low and gravelly with sleep. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, hyung.”
Namjoon’s hum vibrates in the darkness.
“I just- I’m- Hyung, I’m sorry about earlier.”
Namjoon hums again.
Jimin feels dispirited. Namjoon is clearly still asleep – otherwise he wouldn’t have forgiven Jimin so easily. The younger sighs. He’ll apologize in the morning then. He stands up, wanting to leave, but Namjoon reaches for his hand before he can walk away and pulls the younger towards himself. Jimin can’t really see properly in the darkened room, so when his knees hit the edge of the mattress, he finds himself falling on top of the sleeping leader.
“H- Hyung?”
He feels Namjoon’s arms wrapping around him, but he is too overwhelmed with the whole situation that he can’t find it in himself to relax.
“Come sleep here,” Namjoon mumbles gruffly into his hair, tightening his hold.
“You’re up, hyung?” Jimin sits up suddenly, pushing himself against Namjoon’s chest.
“Ow,” Namjoon grunts. “I am now.”
“Oh shit I’m sorry. Does it hurt a lot?” Jimin asks when he hears the rustling Namjoon makes while massaging his chest.
“No, Minnie. Come back here.”
Jimin lays back down obediently, putting his head on Namjoon’s chest. He feels Namjoon taking a deep breath, his arms snaking around Jimin once again. They stay quiet for quite some time that Jimin thinks Namjoon has gone back to sleep.
“Hyung?”
Namjoon hums.
“I’m sorry about earlier. I found my boxers in my drawer, like you said. I felt really bad.”
“It’s fine, Jimin.”
Namjoon strokes his head slowly, his fingers going through Jimin’s soft locks.
“And I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Jimin adds quietly.
Namjoon sighs.
“I said it’s fine, didn’t I? Don’t worry about it.”
Jimin bites his lower lips. He wants to say more – how sorry he is, how he shouldn’t have done what he did, how he wishes he could take it all back – but Namjoon doesn’t seem to be too bothered by it. The leader wraps his cover around them and Jimin snuggles closer to the him, nuzzling into Namjoon’s t-shirt and liking the warmth that he feels. In Namjoon’s protective arms, lethargy is finally catching up to him and he yawns, one hand covering his mouth.
“Thank you, hyung, but I really am sorry,” he apologizes again, sleepily.
“Okay, baby. Just go to sleep. Good night,” he thinks he hears Namjoon’s reply as he drifts off, the ghost of Namjoon’s lips lingering on his forehead.
*
The day had been uneventful, and when night comes, the familiar banter between Hoseok and the maknae line acts as a welcome home rug; Yoongi and his remarks about needing more sleep before heading out again to his work room a routine grumble they’re all well accustomed to; and Seokjin practicing (performing) in the bathroom is nothing out of the ordinary. Namjoon is usually somewhere in the living room reading some philosophical book that none of them understands or in his room on his phone.
But today, today he is nowhere to be found. Jimin, being the observant person that he is, had asked the other members if they had seen him, but Yoongi dismissed him earlier saying that Namjoon is probably working on a track in his studio. Seokjin had agreed with him, even saying that Namjoonie is gonna get sick if he keeps on working like this and had proceeded with chastising Yoongi with his own working habits.
Seokjin always, always, knows where the other members are or what they are up to. It’s not like Seokjin makes them tell him, but they just feel the need to let him know. He really is like the mother of the group. So if even Seokjin is unsure of their leader’s whereabouts, something must be really up. Kim Namjoon isn’t the type to pull a disappearing act all of a sudden. That would usually be maknae line’s job, sneaking out to the convenience store in the wee hours of the morning to buy ramyeons and other junk food as late night snacks.
But if it’s Namjoon, it must be something.
Jungkook and Taehyung are making a racket somewhere deep in the dorm, probably in the back room where they keep most of their old, unused things because the noise sounds far away. Seokjin comes out from his shower with a sigh when he heard them, heading towards the loud noise to put a stop to it. Since Yoongi is taking his turn at the shower, Hoseok waits in the kitchen eating cereal in his shorts, his towel wrapped around his neck like a cape, reading webtoon from his phone.
Jimin paces distractedly around the living room.
“Hyung, I’m heading out,” he lets Hoseok know.
“Sure. Where to?”
“To look for Joonie hyung.”
“Okay. Buy me banana milk on your way back please.”
Jimin leaves after nodding his head, not really caring if Hoseok saw his response.
When he reaches the pavement outside their building, he stops. He doesn’t really know where to start looking, but the other hyungs had mentioned that he could be in his studio, so Jimin decides to start there.
Upon reaching their office building, Jimin prays that he finds Namjoon staring into his computer figuring out beats and rhythms, or maybe bent over his tattered notebook jotting down lyrics that sometimes flow out of his mind like geysers. But as soon as he steps into their office floor, his heart drops into his shoes. The whole floor is dark and there is not even a stream of faded light on the floor outside the Mon Studio. It is obvious Namjoon isn’t there.
He sighs as he steps outside again and runs his fingers through his hair, looking up at the sky as he tips his head back. It’s late and the night sky is clear and it is full with stars winking back up at him. There is one in particular that shines brighter than the rest and it blinks with such fervent that makes Jimin thinks about the big burning glow of gas and how it must be feeling common to be around all its other burning gas-friends because it doesn’t see itself, so it doesn’t know that it’s burning the brightest.
And Jimin stops.
Because it was something that Namjoon had once told him. Namjoon was the one who taught him to never think so lowly of himself, because like the star, you have never seen yourself, Minnie, you’ve never seen your true potential. We – the other members, our friends and families, our fans - we’ve seen you. We saw how spectacular you can be. You shine the brightest when you sing and dance, when you smile, Minnie. When you have faith in yourself. You’re a star, Minnie. Trust me.
And that is how he know where Namjoon is.
Jimin walks a little way across the street and into a park that is very near their office building. He knows that sometimes Namjoon comes here in the evening for his walks. Fresh air, Namjoon had said. A little further into the park and he sees a hidden trail – a clear one to him – that leads up into the small hill in the middle of the park. A trail that Namjoon had showed him once, on the night that he had told him about the stars.
It is such fate that he finds Namjoon at the end of the trail, sitting in small clearing in the middle of the trees on the hill, arms holding his knees tight to his chest, head bent down.
Jimin sits beside Namjoon quietly, touching his arms gently to let the elder know of his presence. Namjoon doesn’t look up.
“Hyung?” he calls timidly.
When Namjoon doesn’t answer, he scoots a little closer, resting his head on Namjoon’s knee. Being this up close to Namjoon, Jimin can see the beginnings of dark ends at the roots of the leader’s bleached blonde head. The elder is still unresponsive, so he lightly untangles the long lanky arms and pulls Namjoon’s hands into his own, threading their fingers together.
He looks at Namjoon expectantly and squeezes his hands.
Namjoon finally looks up and Jimin can see the sadness and hurt deep in his eyes.
“Hyung,” Jimin said.
“Minnie,” Namjoon’s voice is thick with pent up sobs and he casts his eyes downwards.
It hurts Jimin to see their leader hurting like this. He has an inkling what this is about. He saw the controversy on Twitter a few days ago. They all did.
He doesn’t understand why anyone would say that, or how they even come up with it. It might be just something that some people say to bring their spirit down, but why would anyone even say that in the first place? It’s not right.
“Minnie,” Namjoon says again after some time.
“Yes, Joonie hyung.”
“You know- You know I’m good, right?” He chokes. “You know I’m not what they said I am, right?”
“Hyung, forget them. We know you, all of us. And they don’t.”
“And there are nothing wrong with my lyrics, right?”
“Hyung, your lyrics got Bang PD-nim’s approval. Of course there’s nothing wrong with it. Your lyrics are incredible!”
Namjoon is silent again, simply watching Jimin playing with his hands.
“Hyung, you should know that you’re the best rapper I’ve ever met. Just.. don’t tell Yoongi hyung I said that. He’ll kill me,” he sees the corners of Namjoon’s lips quirk up a tiny bit. “And your songs are fantastic! They have such inspirational messages and they really do help people to pick themselves up. You have the support from so many people – people who loves you a lot, hyung. You know Seokjin hyung will always be there for you through thick and thin. And Yoongi hyung will track down whoever it is that got you like this and beat the shit out of that person – given the chance that is. And Hoseok hyung, the scaredy cat that he is, you know he has your back no matter what. Tae will do anything for you, hyung. And Jungkookie, with all his muscle, he might as well go with Yoongi hyung. As much as we are a protector of our fans, they are as much as our guardians, every one of them. And I- You know you have me, hyung. I’ll go through world’s ends if it is you. And there’s Bang PD-nim, too. Thanks to him – and thanks to you, hyung – we’re us. If it weren’t for you, there wouldn’t be Bangtan. That is how much you mean to us.”
Jimin finally meets Namjoon’s eyes and he sees the elder biting the inside of his cheeks. Unshed tears brim over his eyes and Jimin just want to hold Namjoon tight.
“Hyung, you trust me right?”
“Of course, Minnie.”
“You’re a star, hyung. Trust me.”
Namjoon’s eyes widen in recognition and the tears finally spill over, rolling down his cheeks, but Jimin is there. Jimin is there to wipe them and hold him and make him okay. Jimin is there.
Namjoon bites his lower lips and nods. He looks down again, not wanting Jimin to see him like this, so vulnerable and torn down. He sniffs and takes a deep breath.
“Gahhh,” Namjoon says, tilting his head backwards and looking up towards the sky.
Jimin sees him blinking back tears and he squeezes the leader’s hands again. Namjoon squeezes back in reply and he finally makes eye contact with the dancer.
“Thanks, Minnie,” he smiles.
His cheeks are red, his nose is red, and there is a tinge of red in his eyes, but other than that, he looks fine. Jimin is close enough that he can see leftover tears clinging to Namjoon’s lashes.
Jimin breathes slowly, taking in how his hyung looks every bit the amazing and stunning person that he is, and he closes in impulsively.
He lands a peck on Namjoon’s cheek and feels a blush flaring up through his insides. He pulls away so fast that he almost stumbles backwards if not for Namjoon’s strong hands holding him in place.
Feeling a stutter building up in his throat, he is about to apologize before Namjoon stops him with a smile.
A smile so dazzling and enchanting that it could be placed in the night sky among the stars.
“Thank you, Minnie,” Namjoon says, squeezing his hand again before kissing Jimin on his cheek. Jimin is sure that his insides are already melting into a puddle and soon his outsides will melt too and make the puddle bigger.
Melted-puddle Jimin blinks his eyes and he coughs.
“You ready to go back hyung?”
“Let’s stay here a bit more. The stars are beautiful tonight,” Namjoon says with a twinkle in his eyes.
*
They stand side by side behind the kitchen counter.
Jimin is helping Seokjin clean up after dinner, while Namjoon… Wait. Why is Namjoon here?
“Don’t you have to be in your studio, Joonie?” Seokjin asks.
“I don’t have to unless I want to,” Namjoon replies indignantly.
Seokjin just snickers.
“Sure,” he says, hanging the damp kitchen cloth he’d been using to wipe the table on its hanging place. “I’m done here. Thanks, Jimin-ah, for your help. Make Namjoonie help you clean up anything else you need. Just make sure he doesn’t break anything. Or himself.”
Jimin’s laugh chime throughout the room.
“Alright, hyung.”
Namjoon watches with a scowl on his face as Seokjin leaves them both.
“I am perfectly capable of not breaking everything I touch.”
“Hyung, you tore your own sock while putting it on this morning.”
“It wasn’t my fault! It was just an old sock waiting to be torn!”
“Uhuh,” Jimin replies with a smirk and a side glance.
He finishes washing the dishes and he wipes his hands clean on his shirt.
“Hey, don’t do that,” Namjoon says, taking Jimin’s hands in his. He pats the kitchen counter, an implication for Jimin to hop onto it, and the younger does so, sitting with his legs dangling in the air, while Namjoon grabs a clean cloth laying nearby and settles himself in between the dancer’s knees. He makes to wipe Jimin’s petite hands carefully – gently, Jimin notes.
The way Namjoon is holding his hands is like someone holding a fragile piece of porcelain accessory, scared that he might break it if handled too roughly. Jimin blushes at the way Namjoon’s soft touches linger on his skin. He feels tingly all over.
“Hyung..”
“There. All dried now,” Namjoon says, slowly raising his eyes to meet Jimin’s gaze.
Jimin’s heart is beating at 800 beats per minute that he thinks Namjoon might be able to hear it behind his chest. It bursts when Namjoon smiles at him, his dimples popping out in that way that makes his heart clenches upon itself and he felt his soul leaving his body, went to Timbuktu, and goes back inside him as Namjoon runs the pads of his thumbs across the ridges and bumps of his knuckles.
“Minnie, I-“
Jimin doesn’t know what he’s hoping to hear.
Namjoon collects himself, trying a different approach.
“Lately I’ve been- No, not lately. It’s been quite some time. But it’s just lately that it’s been too much-“
Namjoon chokes on his words. He doesn’t know how to do this. He’s not good at this. His lyrics might make him sound like the confident guy who gets all the girls swooning and all the guys shivering at the sound of his voice, but he’s really not that guy.
He’s just someone who stresses over deadlines, who deals with expectant adults, who hopes his other members would stop acting like children trapped in young men’s bodies.
Someone who tears his own socks while putting it on, he admits grudgingly.
And Jimin’s right in front of him - wonderful Jimin who sings notes higher than the angels, beautiful Jimin who walks out of his room yawning with his eyes still closed and the wide collar of his shirt riding down one shoulder in the mornings, sexy Jimin who body rolls like it should be an eighth deadly sin.
Namjoon bites his lower lip.
His fingers are rubbing circles into Jimin’s palms absentmindedly and Jimin finds it hard to breathe. The older is so close to him that Jimin itches to pull him even closer, to have him in his arms.
He sometimes finds it hard to pull himself away from looking when he sees the leader laying on his back, panting on the floor after practicing a difficult dance move again and again and again. In those moments he sometimes feel like crawling into Namjoon’s arms and laying there with him.
Sometimes when the older helps him grab something from the top shelf because Jungkook thinks it’s funny hiding his stuffs where he can’t reach, he finds himself jealous – not because Namjoon is taller and has longer arms, but because why can’t Namjoon use his hands to grab Jimin’s?
And sometimes, when Namjoon lets him borrow his big sweater or hoodie, he likes to pull the sleeves over his fingers and the hoodie over his head halfway across his face, imagining the warmth provided as if Namjoon himself is holding him tight.
Sometimes, Jimin stops himself. Sometimes.
Namjoon pulls a deep breath.
“Minnie,” he starts again.
“Yes, hyung?”
“Can I- Can I try something?”
“Something, hyung?” Jimin asks, his heart thumping loud.
“Yeah. I just- I wanna know. And- and if you don’t like it, I understand. I just hope you don’t hate me if you don’t like it.”
“Hyung-“ Jimin’s ability to form words falls apart.
Namjoon tugs him a little closer, making Jimin tumbles a little forward on the kitchen counter, but the leader’s hand catches his face, cupping his cheek as Jimin realizes that he is coming nearer. Jimin doesn’t know when he closes his eyes, but in the temporary darkness, he feels something soft landing on his lips. Something wondrously soft and warm, and they’re gone before he knows it.
Jimin feels Namjoon pulling away, and he unconsciously follow the older’s lips, opening his eyes as does so. What he sees has his face washed in extreme heat.
Namjoon doesn’t meet his eyes. Instead the leader is facing sideways, his cheeks so red that Jimin thinks of a firetruck when he sees it. He has his lower lip in between his teeth again, moving to wipe his lips with the back of his hand. But it is the look on his face that has Jimin blushing furiously.
“I’m- I’m sorry, Minnie.”
Namjoon looks so dejected, so crestfallen, that Jimin makes to grab his hand away from his mouth. Jimin isn’t ready for the kiss, true, but he isn’t ready for the kiss to end either, and the look on Namjoon’s face is as if Jimin was the one who pulled away.
The audacity.
When Jimin grabs his hand, Namjoon looks back to the younger with wide eyes.
“Hyung,” Jimin is the one biting his lips now. “Can I try it, too?”
The pupils in Namjoon’s eyes dilate even wider in surprise, and Jimin suddenly feels like someone turned the stove on under him.
Namjoon feels more heat creeping up his neck, but he can also feel his lips tugging upwards at the corners. He cups Jimin’s face again, this time with both hands as he closes the distance between them.
Jimin’s lips are as plump and smooth as he always imagines it would be. The way Jimin is gently moving his lips has Namjoon shifting one hand to the nape of Jimin’s neck, the other to the younger’s waist. Jimin wraps his arms around Namjoon’s neck and he feels the dancer’s fingers tangling themselves in Namjoon’s hair.
He tilts Jimin’s head and the dancer complies readily, pulling Namjoon closer, if that is even possible. He swipes his tongue on the younger’s upper lips and he feels Jimin shudders as it triggers something in him.
“Hyung,“ Jimin breathes, gasping for air.
“Minnie,” Namjoon replies, just as breathy.
Jimin laughs quietly, pressing his forehead on Namjoon’s shoulder as the older hugs him close, laying his head on Jimin’s. He takes a deep breath and Jimin feels his chest moving.
“Hyung,” he says again. He nuzzles Namjoon’s neck, taking in the leader’s scent, something strong and musky and fresh - something that Jimin associates with Namjoon a long time ago whenever he whiffs it in the air.
“Mmhmm,” Namjoon hums in content with having Jimin right there in his arms.
Jimin pushes himself up.
Suddenly Namjoon feels the heat crawling up again. The sight of Jimin with his kiss swollen lips - as if they weren’t so plump before - and the pink that tinges his fluffy cheeks is just too much. The younger is so cute he just can’t help himself.
“So, do you like it?” he asks shyly.
Jimin stutters.
“I- I- Yeah, I like it,” Jimin says, looking down.
“So you don’t hate me?”
“No, I don’t hate you.”
“So you like me then?”
“Yeah, I like-“ Jimin stops himself and looks up with his face red. “Hyung!” he hits Namjoon’s shoulder playfully.
Namjoon covers his mouth in a shy laugh.
“Okay, okay, you don’t have to say it. But I want you to know that I like you. A lot,” Namjoon says, looking straight into the younger’s eyes, his fingers tangling themselves between Jimin’s.
The gaze has Jimin blushing even more.
He gives his hyung a smile of his own, his eyes twinkling and he squeezes the older’s hands.
“I like you, too, hyung. Have been, for quite some time now.”
“Really?” Namjoon feigns a shock expression. “I wouldn’t have guessed from the way you were kissing me just now.”
Jimin gives Namjoon a pointed look.
Namjoon chuckles.
“So.. do you wanna try it again?” Namjoon asks, shy again.
“Yes please,” Jimin replies with a smile, moving his face closer and closing his eyes upon the soft impact on his lips.