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When they first boarded, the AC from the airplane felt heaven sent, now it’s starting to slowly irritate his throat, but he doesn’t have the energy to get up and grab his black face mask from his bag. They’re on a plane on their way to Brussels from Madrid, a 2 hour and 15 minute flight. He can deal with it an hour longer.
Jungkook adjusts the grey airplane pillow on his head and uncrosses his legs on his lie-flat seat, closing his eyes in order to take a nap. It’s still midday, so the shades from the cabin windows are raised, letting bright sunlight through, but Jungkook’s too tired to care. At least everyone’s settled into their seat, so there’s not too much shuffling around him, only the constant hum of the cabin. Last time he noticed, most staff and members alike were either napping or absorbed in their own thing.
Everyone’s tired from the last couple of days. Giving concerts of their scale in 40° Celsius weather is basically a superhuman feat. Even though Madrid days 1 and 2 were exhilarating and Jungkook always considers himself incredibly lucky when he’s on stage, watching armys sing along with them, to run around on a stage when it’s that hot isn’t for the weak. He’s proud and happy he did it, and now he’s enjoying his time indoors for as long as he can before the next couple of concerts.
He’s doing just that, and trying to drift off to sleep, when he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder, and then a hip bone pressing tentatively into his stomach, followed by the solid expanse of a thigh across both his legs and pelvis. He grunts from the sudden weight, and the person on top echoes him playfully as they completely settle over him.
Someone’s face nuzzles his shoulder and neck, then, and he smells Jimin’s shampoo when his hair and the fabric of his hoodie both tickle his chin.
“Hyung,” Jungkook croaks. His left hand raises to his head, and he pulls Jimin’s hood halfway down so his fingers can thread through his hair. His other hand circles around his hip.
“Yeah?” Jimin mutters back, voice raspy. He might have been napping by himself, too. He also sounds exhausted, probably from both the earlier heat and accumulated exhaustion from the last couple of days. “Can I stay here for just ten minutes? You looked so comfy.”
Jungkook’s arms tighten around him, voice strained. “Stay until landing. Don’t leave.”
Jimin hums close to his ear. “I’m heavy.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He feels Jimin laugh at how breathless he is, and the sound of it tickles his skin.
Jungkook huffs. “Just—can’t breathe. No. Don’t leave. Just—Your arm.”
“Sorry.” Jimin takes his arm from under him, and instead lets it fall around Jungkook’s other side so it’s not in the way. Now they’re chest to chest, and Jimin wiggles his butt lower until it’s snug on Jungkook’s crotch area, not low enough that it becomes a different kind of problem, thankfully.
“Mmh, that’s better.” Jungkook sighs, closing his eyes again. Jimin’s hip bone is still jabbing his side, but if that’s the price he has to pay for having him on top of him like this, so be it.
“Did you even sleep yesterday?” Jimin mumbles.
“Yeah… kind of.”
“And the day before that?”
Jungkook groans. “Why ask when you know?”
He can feel Jimin smiling even though his face is turned away from him. “I saw the lives this morning. You were dancing with no shirt on? Cute. You’re going viral again.”
“I always do.” He leaves it at that, but there’s an I really don’t care somewhere in his tone.
The day before yesterday after their second concert in Madrid, he’d gotten tipsy on beer and done a couple lap dances, sang karaoke and even gotten inside a closet on three different lives that he’d started. He hadn’t spared it a single thought after it happened, but for some reason, he’s a little self-aware now that he knows Jimin’s seen it.
A thought pops in his head. He imagines Jimin’s eyes on him, watching him move his hips on that white hotel chair and fix his underwear in front of the camera, and it makes something in his stomach start to heat up.
It’s not like they haven’t seen each other in their underwear, or naked, for that matter. It’s not like they haven’t… done things with each other either.
This past year, they’ve existed in this in-between state, the two of them. Where attraction and feelings are there, but still unshared and ambiguous. And things like this… Jimin cuddling into him and saying he looked cute while dancing shirtless… they make Jungkook feel some type of way he’s still trying to figure out the whole extent of.
Jungkook only swallows and adds. “I was wearing a jean jacket.”
Jimin snorts, his cheek pressed to his collarbone. “A very useless jean jacket. You looked sexy.” And if cute is already a lot when he’s this close, sexy is even worse. Then Jimin goes oh, having just remembered something, completely unaware of his effect on him. “You said I looked sexy, too.”
Jungkook just hums in akcnowledgement, and his arm wraps around Jimin’s shoulder in an effort to stop this conversation before he gets too flustered. He pulls a strand of his long hair behind his ear and nuzzles his face on the crown of his head.
This is something that feels safe enough, since he’s done it a million times. Even if it's to search for comfort from what Jimin himself makes him feel, he searches for Jimin. He can’t help but smile at himself at that thought. How silly is that? That Park Jimin has this effect on him.
After a moment, and the way it always goes with them, a comfortable silence settles around them. Jimin makes a pleased little noise, and Jungkook closes his eyes again.
The hum of the cabin lulls them for who knows how long, until Jungkook feels Jimin involuntarily tense.
“You must be exhausted. I’ll leave in a bit. Let me just snuggle.” He mumbles, speech a little slurred, already falling asleep.
Jungkook mumbles back. “I said don’t.”
“I said will,” but Jimin just nuzzles his face sideways, even further into his neck.
Jungkook’s hip is starting to hurt, but he’d be damned if he ever asked Jimin to move off him. So the hand that was on his hair lowers, instinctively tracing his spine until it reaches his butt. He pats it softly twice. “Wait. I have an idea.”
No response. Jungkook pats it again, a little more insistent.
Jimin barely stirs. “What?”
“Lift your hips.”
”Why?”
”Just lift them, but don’t get off me.”
Jimin groans, but slowly, he raises his upper body and puts his hand over Jungkook’s left shoulder to keep himself above him, enough so that he can lift his pelvis sideways.
Jungkook looks up at him from this new position, and takes a second to take him in. He sees Jimin’s bare, pretty eyelids. Soft, pink lips and bleached blonde hair framing his face, looking a little puffy, nose a little pink.
They’ve spend so much time in stage make up these last few days, even after the concert, keeping it on for as long as possible afterwards for lives and pictures… that looking at him without make up makes him want to lean in and… he isn’t sure, run his finger along his bottom lip and kiss him, for one. Kiss his cheeks, then trace his tongue across his bottom lip.
Jungkook might’ve been able to get away with it if they were alone, but they aren’t, and he doesn’t want to risk it.
Everyone wants that, right? It’s Jimin. Everyone feels this way about him, right? It makes sense. It’s his aura. It’s everything that he is.
Jimin blinks back at him. He smiles, still a little sleepy. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Jungkook whispers. Despite his earlier thought, he raises his hand and swipes his thumb over his bottom lip. Only once, fast enough that it manages to feel casual.
“You were drooling,” he lies.
“‘was not,” Jimin grumbles.
Jungkook averts his eyes and swallows, then immediately raises that same hand to take out his pillow from under his head, feigning nonchalance. He moves it to his left hip, where Jimin’s butt had been, and taps Jimin’s upper thigh, tense from holding his weight on top of him. “Lie down again. You’re staying here with me.”
But Jimin doesn’t move. He purses his lips to the side and cocks his head. “And why would I do that?” Like he didn’t just come here voluntarily and clambered on top of Jungkook, despite having his own seat close by.
“Because I want to cuddle you,” Jungkook replies, eyes back on his. And he can pretend this is their normal, and there’s nothing else going on in his head, because this is how they usually act with each other anyway.
The corners of Jimin’s mouth threaten to lift, but he manages to keep them down. “So?”
“So?” Jungkook cocks his head back at him. “You can never say no to me.”
Jimin’s eyes turn to amused slits as he mulls Jungkook’s words over.
After a moment, however, he just sighs. “You can never say no to me, hence why I’m here,” is all he mumbles. He takes his hand back to Jungkook’s side and lowers himself once more. Jungkook grunts again when Jimin presses back into him. “...squeezing you half to death”, he adds in an exhale. "Sorry."
A second later, he’s melting back on top of Jungkook, and Jungkook welcomes him with a satisfied noise, so borderline embarrassing that he’s glad the white noise from the cabin around them drowns out most of it, and only Jimin, with his face pressed to his throat, can hear it.
Jimin just giggles and echoes it back to him, the way he always does. The grey pillow cradles his hip perfectly as he wiggles back into position, perfectly cushioning them both in.
“Wah, Jeon Jungkook. This is so comfy.”
“See? I told you.” Jungkook plans to stay like this until somebody physically moves them.
He rubs Jimin’s hip, and then taps his butt one more time before he’s leaving his hand on the edge of the pillow, acting as a barrier just in case Jimin rolls over during his nap and hits the side console. He doesn’t want him to wake up uncomfortable.
Their schedule after they land is just as intense as it was in Madrid, and under the same asphyxiating heat. Jimin needs all the rest he can possibly get.
“Mmh,” Jimin hums. “You were right.”
“I always am.”
A soundless chuckle in response. Then a breathy, and slightly slurred “Shut up.”
Jungkook snorts, but says nothing else. He closes his eyes again, and after a few minutes of drifting back to sleep properly this time, with Jimin already unconscious and boneless on top of him, he barely registers someone in front of them.
There's the click of a phone camera and an endeared, hushed laugh.
He doesn’t even mind it. If his instincts are right, it’s probably Hobi hyung. There’s millions of pictures of them just like this in his gallery anyway, just like there's millions of gestures, touches and kisses Jungkook hasn’t had the courage to bring up. What is one more?