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The post sex glow Namjoon got was a problem. It was a problem because he looked so good with his skin tone practically shining, lips slick with spit and swollen, hickeys down those gorgeous thighs of his.
And yeah, maybe Jimin doesn't vocalize that thought but he knew he'd fuck up if he tried to. So he lied there, admiring every single bit of the boy next to him; watching as he slowly breathes and stares at the tulle of the bed's netting that's tied to the frame.
The netting had frilly lace alongside it and it looked absolutely adorable. On a second thought, when you glanced at Namjoon's bedroom, everything was adorable. From his lined up plushies to his disney films stacked he was just an adorable man.
"You know, I really wouldn't have thought we'd end up like this," Namjoon said his voice a bit hoarse at first since, well, if anyone had their throats fucked like that they'd end up with a hoarse voice too.
"I can bring some tea if you want," Jimin said, his hand slowly inching towards the other's hand. Until he backed out, like the same sides of two magnets pushed together.
Namjoon looked at him, doe eyes staring into his soul with a dirty blonde framing his face. Then he smirked a bit, showing his dimple and stared at their hands.
"I always thought you were the one," he said then paused and grimaced, as if he was scowling at his past self for even imagining that. "The one who'd fix me, somehow." He traced his tattoo that was right on his waist, which had a bleeding heart.
"Now you're scared to hold hands with me, after you had your dick up my ass." Jimin averted his gaze, looking at the ceiling. "I'm-" "I have camomile on the counter."
Jimin looked back at Namjoon, seeing a hint of tears in his eyes. He kicked the comforter off of himself, getting up on his feet and ruffling his hair. He went straight to the kitchen and started boiling the water.
The kitchen had a simple design and looked unused. On the counter there were some pizza boxes, totally empty. There were some dishes in the sink but other than that it was generally clean.
The machine's handle shot up, signaling the man that it was done. Jimin poured some water into a mug that had a reindeer and the word "smile" printed on it.
He put the tea bag inside the cup making his way to the bedroom again. When he entered, he saw that Namjoon was sitting up now, playing with the ends of the comforter.
Jimin put the mug on the nightstand next to Namjoon, slowly looking at the taller man. He saw that Namjoon's nipples were perked up, and that there were hickeys right between them. The hickeys he himself left.
"Thank you," Namjoon murmured not even looking at Jimin. After Jimin set down the mug (and stopped staring at Namjoon) he went around and found his boxers. He put them on and sat down on the bed again.
I should apologize, Jimin thought, but unfortunately his stupid, stupid pride didn't let him. He looked down on the bed and heard Namjoon lift the mug and sip the drink.
"You don't need to apologize, you know, I was just being too sentimental." If only it was that easy. Jimin knew he had broken Namjoon's heart, countless times. Yet the boy was still there. Still within Jimin's range. No matter how many thorns pricked his heart, Namjoon would let Jimin touch him.
It came natural for Namjoon, to be attracted to Jimin, to want to help him. He knew it affected him, he would still cry after Jimin left. He would still get drunk. He would still get scolded by Hoseok for not pushing Jimin away. But how could he? How dare he? How dare he push Jimin of all people? It was almost sacrilegious in Namjoon's part.
Jimin swallowed and lifted his head up, looking straight into Namjoon's eyes. He really didn't know how to show his gratitude. Not because Namjoon let Jimin fuck him whenever he wanted, because Namjoon was always there. Always there to catch him whenever he fell.
He leaned in and kissed Namjoon's neck, right on one of the hickeys he had left. He really liked marking Namjoon up. The bruises looked pretty on his skin.
He felt Namjoon relax under the touch, breathing out a huff of air. "Thank you," Jimin said, then realized how fucked up that sounded. "Not for the sex, for everything, you know," he trailed off slowing getting up from the bed. He put on his jeans and hoodie as Namjoon watched him, got out of the room, took his coat and closed the door. In the end Namjoon was lonely again with no one there to catch him.