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i. live your life (come on baby)
Jimin’s movements are as clumsy as a toddler’s with each step forward giving him the sensation of sinking into mud—heavy and sluggish. Beads of perspiration trickle down the side of his face, and he pants profusely beneath the weight of the two other boys leaning heavily on either side of him.
He pauses to adjust the body on his shoulder to keep it from sliding to the pavement, wrinkling his nose at the disgusting odour of alcohol, sweat and puke. The smell of his own shirt caked with vomit, courtesy of the rambling drunkard on his right shoulder, makes him gag uncontrollably.
"Park Jimin!" the hazel-haired bastard hoots. "Gallop off into the sunset with me-ee~" He then cackles wildly making Jimin’s hairs stand on end.
"You ruin my shirt one more time, Hoseok-hyung, and I'll leave you here to gallop all by yourself."
Hoseok pouts in response, turning his head and giving Jimin a sloppy kiss on the cheek that reeks of eau de after party. Jimin stifles the urge to retch.
Lugging the limp bodies of his tipsy college mates through the automatic doors of their building, Jimin maintains a strong grip on the arm slung over his left shoulder to prevent its owner from getting away.
"Jeonggukkie," Jimin grumbles. "Quit fidgeting; I can't hold you properly."
"But Jiyong-hyung is waiting to tango with me!" Jeongguk hiccups, his curly locks a disheveled mess and his shirt askew. "GD-hyung, wait for me~" he wails, his words slurring in an alcohol-induced haze. Jimin ignores him, focusing his energy on keeping Hoseok from barging headfirst into a wall.
After dealing with Jeongguk professing his undying love to a wilting cactus (“You could just tell me I'm a bad kisser, baby, no need to poke me!”), Jimin has to further endure a lift journey upwards to their floor accompanied by a soulfully cacophonous rendition of Big Bang's “Bang Bang Bang” belted out at an ear-splitting pitch by the two intoxicated boys at his sides. He glares at the lift doors, contemplating what the fuck he ever did to deserve this type of shitty treatment.
Ever since that one time he had followed his senior Jung Hoseok on one of his club excursions in his freshman year, Jimin hasn't gone to a single nightclub or frat party ever since. Namjoon still has blackmail footage of Jimin on the roof in his birthday suit drunkenly performing a soprano version of “This is Gospel” to the entire city of Los Angeles. He's never lived that incident down, and he vowed to never set foot in that club ever again or any club for that matter.
(Everyone still remembers that fateful news report, in which firemen had to manhandle a certain boy off a rooftop amidst said boy screeching the chorus at the top of his lungs.)
Park Jimin, clubs and alcohol just do not mix.
So how he ended up clubbing the night before heading back to campus for the new semester, he has no freaking idea. Nor does he have any inkling how on earth his neighbor from Busan, freshman Jeon Jeongguk, had ended up tagging along for the ride (everything must be that damned Hoseok's fault) despite Jimin's reluctance at Jeongguk's age (there's always the incredible invention of the fake ID and of course no one listens to Jimin, no one).
Somehow, Jimin manages to get them all to the front door of their room. He shoves Hoseok out of his face before swiping the key card across the sensor, and the door clicks open smoothly. Stumbling into the room, Jimin dumps his flushed friends onto the nearest bed before grabbing a towel. He heads to the bathroom for a well-deserved shower.
He groans, massaging his throbbing shoulder blades and flexing his muscles to rid them of the soreness. Peeling off his clothes, he makes a face at the stench of his filthy shirt, and coughs as he chucks it into a corner.
"[Disgusting!]" he exclaims. The yodelling of his inebriated friends reverberates off the walls, making him sigh.
Stripping himself bare, Jimin runs a hand through his matted hair and steps into the shower. With the twist of a knob, water cascades upon him like an everlasting waterfall. The relaxing stream caresses his skin. He hisses at the initial cold, shuddering until the warmth seeps in. His mind fades into dullness as he relishes the warm steam rising around his body.
Suspiring in relief, he scarcely has time to enjoy the lukewarm rain upon his skin when the voices of the inebriated idiots echo faintly through the door.
“Giddy up, J-Horse! I’M COMING, JIYONG-HYUNG!”
“Alright, alright, it’s a helluva feeling, though! IT’S A HELLUVA FEELING, THOUGH!”
Jeongguk and Hoseok’s yowling jolts Jimin to his senses, the disturbing thumps against the wall giving off a foreboding vibe. He doesn’t need telling twice when he hears piercing whoops, punctured by a shout of “BYE CHIM CHIM!”
Jimin’s just switched off the shower when he hears the jingling of the doorknob. Not even bothering to dry himself off, he hastily wraps the towel around his waist before dashing out of the bathroom. Hoseok’s drunken antics are common knowledge in Jimin’s dictionary—it’s more that he doesn’t want Jeongguk to be stuck up a tree tomorrow naked and chanting “Wow, Fantastic Baby.”
Unfortunately, the boys are already halfway out the door, giggling hysterically like schoolgirls, screeching out the next verse of “Sober.” Jimin rushes forward, shoving Hoseok back into the room before gripping the arm of a soused Jeongguk.
“You morons are anything but sober—” he begins but then squeaks in alarm as he’s yanked along. His heels dig firmly into the cheap carpet on instinct. A tug of war ensues between Jimin and Jeongguk, the maknae’s heavy body swaying precariously. In the midst of the confusion, the drunken boy slips, sending both his hyung and him tumbling into the corridor.
A gasp escapes Jimin as he flails, teetering dangerously before regaining his footing, and the towel around his hips nearly slides off. The unexpected breeze below causes him to panic, his hand grasping the loose fabric reflexively. Jeongguk’s just about to share a kiss with the ground when Hoseok’s arms shoot out and grab him.
“Ride me, Kookie!”
And then Jeongguk’s gone, the combined chortles of both boys fading away into the depths of their room. Jimin’s just too occupied with covering up his dick, impervious to anything else.
The portentous sound of the lock clicking into place is enough to make Jimin jerk his head upwards in surprise. His brain is slow to respond, but gradually the gears of his sedated mind creak slowly into motion. Trepidation manifests itself in his chest, the urgency of the situation sinking in.
It’s 3am, and he’s locked out of his room, dripping wet and wearing nothing but a towel. He doesn’t even have briefs on.
FUCK.
Panic rises within him as he futilely joggles the door handle, rapping frantically on the door.
“Hoseok-hyung! Jeongguk!” Jimin hisses in a hushed voice as he presses an ear to the door and strains to hear a response. “Open the fucking door, please!” His wasted buddies are completely incognizant of his cries. Jimin is unable to make out what’s going on in there.
The knocking ceases, and he bangs a fist on the door in frustration and rests his forehead against the cold, hard wooden surface. He curses, despair welling up inside him. God damn it.
Jimin is suddenly mindful of the eerily silent corridor. His stomach churns nervously, and his breathing quickens. His pupils dilate, darting everywhere to check for any sign of movement. Fear claws at his heart, but not a soul can be seen down this desolate corridor; it’s as if Jimin is the only person left in the world.
A runny nose with sniffles alerts him to the fact that he’s freezing. Globules of water drips down from his damp hair, a sense of icy cold spreading like tendrils throughout his being.
Awesome, he thinks sourly to himself, I’m going to die of cold out here, naked. And he’s not even drunk—a new all-time record for Park Jimin, #KingOfUltimateFails. What an incredible feat.
However, he does calm down eventually, giving himself a mental pep talk (hey, at least he didn’t ride a shopping trolley nude down the street screaming “INFIRES” unlike a certain grumpy hyung he knows). The only logical thing to do is to go down to the lobby and ask the receptionist for a spare key. Farewell, pride, Jimin’s going to kiss its ass goodbye.
Quivering like a leaf with the biting cold nipping at his bare skin like a hungry beast, Jimin inhales sharply before setting off down the hallway carefully, footsteps muffled by the discoloured carpet underfoot. Creeping silently past each room makes him feel like an intruder in a foreign place, adrenaline courses through his veins from the intense fear threatening to devour his sanity.
Heart thumping vigorously in his chest, Jimin’s hands shake visibly, both from the temperature and the terror clutching at his soul. His senses have sharpened by tenfold; he’s as jittery as a rabbit, the slightest noise sending him scurrying backwards. The stillness of the air makes his skin crawl, the end of the hallway seeming like miles away.
When he finally approaches the end after what feels like a millennium, Jimin’s body is rigid with cold. His feet are numbed beyond feeling like he’s having a permanent case of pins and needles. Teeth chattering, he’s just about to round the corner and praise the lord that for once he’s been spared from becoming the spectacle of the year again when he glimpses the silhouette of a figure.
Jimin instantly recoils, his body sticking instinctively to the chilly surface of the wall, heart jammed in his throat. Apprehension surging ever higher, Jimin peeks out from behind the bend, scrutinizing the boy in front of the lift curiously.
His striking sunset hair is the first thing that catches Jimin’s eye; it's a stark contrast to the dullness of the surroundings, glistening in the dim glow of the fluorescent lights. He’s tall, his profile not muscularly built but lean nonetheless, and those ripped jeans hug his figure just right, showcasing those long legs.
Both hands stuffed inside his pockets, the youth rummages through them searching earnestly. His thick eyebrows furrow in confusion as he turns every single pocket inside out only to produce nothing. Groaning loudly, he lets one hand drop to his side as the other cards through his brightly-dyed hair.
Barely a meter away, Jimin's shivering so much to the point that his brain just stops functioning. Great, he moans inside his head, there’s someone out there, and he’s actually good looking. It’s like someone up there is actually messing with him. Jimin grits his teeth, knowing if he stays out in the cold for any longer he’s going to catch pneumonia. Coming to an inevitable decision, he braces himself. Screw this.
Forcing his stiff body to move, he shuffles robotically to the lift, keeping his eyes downcast as he passes the other boy, pressing the down button stoically. Trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible, Jimin keeps his head bowed, hiding his facial expression.
Hearing the soft footfalls, the fire-haired boy turns towards the source of the sound, his eyes widening in sheer astonishment at the sight before him. He blinks, nearly pinching himself to check whether he’s hallucinating, attempting to work out if this is all just a figment of his imagination or the real deal.
The boy that had brushed shoulders with him for some reason has not a single piece of clothing on, save for a towel covering any indecent exposure down below, barely keeping him at a PG-13 rating. Ebony bangs, damp and dripping, sweep into large eyes. Flawless, sun-kissed skin gleams with moisture, flushed from the cold. A delicate pink dusts the dark-haired boy’s full cheeks, giving the stranger the urge to poke them.
However, what makes the redhead’s breath hitch is that glorious set of abs, peeking out above his towel, firm and defined in all its glory. He wets his chapped lips and swallows to moisten his parched throat as he eyes the shorter boy’s impressive biceps.
Either his wild imagination is having a field day, conjuring up illusions of baby-faced hotties, or his midnight fantasies have decided to stroll right out of his head and step into reality. Anyhow, he’s struck the eye candy lottery.
Meanwhile, Jimin can uncomfortably discern the stranger’s gaze, venturing to sneak a peek at the boy next to him. Carrot Top (his hair is just that distinctive so why not) is looking at him shamelessly, his eyes wandering suggestively over his torso, obviously enjoying the view. Thin lips quirking upwards in a small smirk, he tilts his head to get a better angle, much to Jimin’s mortification, which in turn morphs into annoyance.
“Hey,” Jimin’s voice rings out a bit too loudly through the stagnant air. “The hell are you looking at? You got a fucking problem?”
Even though the words are crude, the voice that utters this is somehow melodious to the redhead’s ears. And those plump lips, how they move to form each syllable—woah.
The stranger chuckles gently at Jimin’s reaction, a low rumble that sends shivers down Jimin’s spine. When he speaks, Jimin doesn’t expect to hear a husky voice, deep in register, flowing smoothly like honey.
“Yep, I do have a problem,” Carrot Top replies, his smirk becoming broader. “You’re a distraction, so I can’t stop looking at you.”
Taken by surprise, Jimin’s mind goes blank as if someone had taken an eraser and rubbed away all the witty comebacks he’s ever known. Left speechless, he squirms on the spot, a blush creeping onto his face.
When the hell is this freaking lift coming!?
As soon as the thought crosses his mind, the lift finally arrives with a “ding.” The flashing arrow pointing downwards never before looking so inviting. Jimin practically leaps into the lift, eager to escape the painful situation and the strange boy who gives him the creeps. He’s just punched the button to the ground floor when—
“Oh, you’re going down to the reception, too? Let’s ride together~”
To Jimin’s horror, Carrot Top bounces into the lift excitedly, the doors clanging shut, confining Jimin with this pervert. As the lift drops downwards, so does Jimin’s stomach into the pit of despair. He’s all alone with a shifty (and Jimin begrudgingly admits, rather handsome) stranger, stark-naked and vulnerable as a sheep with its fleece shaved off. It was a recipe for disaster.
One hand clutching the front of his towel protectively, he shrinks into the corner of the box, his cheeks turning pinker with every passing second yet his palms are breaking out in cold sweat as he fists his towel tensely.
“So where did you come from?” Carrot Top scoots over to Jimin, the close proximity causing Jimin to turn a deeper shade of crimson. “Post-action?”
Jimin dearly wants to just sink through the floor and never be seen again, even if it means plunging down the lift shaft.
“Mind your own freaking—” Jimin’s halfway through a retort when a fit of sneezes interrupts him.
“Awwwwww!” Carrot Top’s eyes sparkle in euphoria, edging even closer. “Even your sneezes are cute!”
“Cute!?” Jimin interjects, voice going all high-pitched and cracking fabulously, looking absolutely flabbergasted.
“Yeah, like my little pinkie toe,” the stranger elaborates leering at Jimin. “Tiny, cute and I’ll probably bang you on every piece of furniture in my room.”
The comment catches Jimin off guard, rendering him scarlet-faced and at a loss for words. He wants to retaliate, but his train of thought has completely derailed and crashed on the side of the tracks at this point.
By the time the doors open to the lobby, Jimin’s ready to strangle someone senseless (more specifically the two dimwits back on the 13th floor) for the crap he had to put up with. Including stopping a certain fire-haired blockhead from poking his cheeks and making atrocious pickup lines (“I may not be an elevator, but you can still go down my shaft!”). The awful indignity makes Jimin want to scream.
Approaching the receptionist warily, Jimin proceeds to explain his situation to her. Stammering out the words in an endless stream, his eyes trained on the floor, aware that his face is beet red and burning. Ignoring the snickers behind him and the giggles from the frumpy, middle-aged female receptionist before him, Jimin backs away just as Carrot Top steps forward (why is he still smiling when he has to fork over that wad of cash for a new room card, what a weirdo).
The trip back up to their floor is twice as awkward as the way down, with two oddballs ogling him throughout the long three-minute ride. The receptionist (who had insisted on accompanying them on the way up when she could have just given Jimin the extra key), with her greying wisps of hair, kept batting her eyes coquettishly at him like some love-crazed tween girl. Jimin manages a weak smile at her even though he’s actually internally dying of turmoil (being hit on by someone who can pass as your granny, ew). Carrot Top proves himself to be quite the charmer, making small talk with the receptionist with ease and chatting up Jimin all at once.
Storming down the corridor towards his room at long last, Jimin’s ready to collapse onto his bed, completely worn out by the night’s happenings. He’s trying to put rather unsubtly that no, he’s not interested in playing Bingo with a bunch of old ladies tomorrow, Carrot Top tails behind them, his stare burning into the back of Jimin’s head. As the trio reaches Jimin’s room, Carrot Top halts at the unit next to Jimin’s, opening the door with his newly obtained key card. Jimin’s mouth falls slack in incredulity.
“Woah, Abs!” The infuriating redhead turns to Jimin, flashing him a square shaped grin. “Looks like we’re neighbors!”
As if life couldn’t get any worse.
“For Christ’s sake, I’m not staying another goddamn night if a weirdo like you lives here.”
“But I don’t think I can fall asleep with such a sexy cutie living next door with only a wall separating us.” Another brazen remark followed by that nettlesome simper. “Indecent thoughts will keep me up all night.”
Fighting hard to stifle her chortles, the receptionist unlocks the door for Jimin before waving flirtatiously goodbye. Making a face at her retreating back, Jimin seizes the door handle, eager to get some clothes on and drift off to Dreamland when Carrot Top calls out to him.
“Fancy helping me with my sleeping problem?” He wriggles his eyebrows evocatively. “I lost my stuffed lion. . . can I sleep with you instead?”
The obnoxious grin on his face is enough to make Jimin want to treat him to a knuckle sandwich. He whips his head around, throwing a dirty look at Carrot Top.
“No.” Jimin shoots him down bluntly, but this does nothing to deter the other boy’s efforts.
“Can I have your number in case—”
“Fuck off.”
“Then do you wanna maybe hang tomorrow—” But Jimin’s already slammed the door forcefully in his face, cutting off Carrot Top’s words.
He regards the closed door in amusement, a goofy smile spreading across his face. Losing his key card and being fined a few hundred dollars suddenly doesn’t seem so tragic anymore.
Definitely worth it.
“What’s keeping you guys?” Jimin barks at the two assholes bumbling their way towards the lift lobby. “Stop screwing around and get your asses here, please, I want to get out of this goddamn place.”
Tapping his foot impatiently, he musses up his dark hair, grousing to himself. The late afternoon sun shines in through the window, casting distorted shadows upon the carpet.
“Slow down a bit, hyung,” Jeongguk says weakly, bleary-eyed and still suffering the after-effects of a hangover. “My stomach’s so upset it’s like it’s actually mad at me.”
In the meantime, a still-disoriented Hoseok trips over his own suitcase and hurtles straight into Jeongguk and knocks the youngest boy off his feet. Screeches fill the air as they end up in a heap on the ground, followed by whimpers of pain. Jimin heaves a huge sigh before making his way back to his two friends and helping them get themselves in order.
The entirety of Jimin's morning had been spent cooped up in their room having his eardrums assaulted by complaining, complaining and more complaining. Hoseok, being the Ultimate Drama Queen he is, has been making a fuss as per usual, whinging about his splitting headache and driving Jimin nuts. The short intervals when he does shut up are only so he can sprint to the washroom to throw up, taking turns with Jeongguk for the use of the toilet bowl. His mouth permanently turned down in that signature frown. Jimin would find it hilarious if he wasn’t feeling so crappy himself.
While sounds of retching filled his ears, Jimin had dozed on his bed, nursing the terrible cold he caught due to his late-night expedition in the chill. He barely slept a wink last night, wary of that guy in the room next door, afraid that he’ll charge down the door (but that’s what stupid auto locks are for) or burst through the wall (he’s just being paranoid now).
Evidently, since everyone’s too hungover to even mention anything about the night before, Jimin decides to let everything slide for the moment. Some things are better unsaid. Whatever happened last night, the entire traumatizing experience, is strictly under wraps and never to be mentioned again. Only Jimin will ever know.
As they all drag their heavy bodies and their baggage over to the front of the lift, Jeongguk, evidently experiencing the foul taste of a first hangover, shuffles along gracelessly like he’s going to fall on his face at any given moment. The boy reminds Jimin of a zombie forcefully resurrected from death (or Min Yoongi, his old senior, on a typical Monday morning). For once, Jeongguk’s abnormally quiet, a far cry from his usual endearingly cheeky personality, choosing to keep to himself, his mood unreadable. He hardly spoke a word to anyone, only grunting in response to several of Jimin’s questions. Hoseok knows better and actually leaves the kid alone. Jimin doesn’t remember his first hangover being this severe, but there’s no accounting for alcohol tolerance.
Jeongguk kneads the aching muscle of his own ass, face contorted in pain. Hoseok hurries over, patting Jeongguk rather awkwardly on the shoulder before taking a hold of the maknae’s bags. Jimin’s just about to express his concern when he suddenly notices the absurd thing draped around Jeongguk’s neck.
“Jeongguk, I know your brain is still a shit swamp, but it’s fucking August.”
“So?” Jeongguk nibbles on his swollen bottom lip, shuffling from his left foot to his right. Hoseok chews on the inside of his cheek.
“Why are you wearing that Iron Man scarf when it’s 23 fucking degrees out?” Jimin narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Is your head screwed on right?”
Jeongguk gives a very unconvincing laugh, eyes betraying his uneasiness.
“Don’t you know, hyung?” Jeongguk’s voice goes up a few octaves, “It’s all the rage right now, scarfs in August! Hashtag Scargust! The newest fashion trend! Right, Hobi-hyung?” he babbles, hands twisting and flailing. Jimin’s unable to understand the compelling looks Hoseok and Jeongguk are giving each other but he doesn’t miss the note of urgency in the maknae’s tone.
“Yeah, yeah!” Hoseok squawks louder than is necessary, that overly hyper veneer too strained for a person that had been literally shit-faced a few hours ago. “And—Uh—” Hoseok blunders, in a tizzy as he zips open his backpack violently and delves through its contents, as if there’s a ticking time bomb in there.
“EARMUFFS!” he proclaims loudly, producing a pair of rather ludicrous looking earmuffs, “FLUFFY PINK EARMUFFS!” Hoseok waves the neon pink winter wear (aren’t those Seokjin’s limited edition ones!?) frantically, as if to prove a point. “The fluffier the better!” He pops them on and does jazz hands, looking nightmarishly like something Barbie regurgitated. Jeongguk’s smiling so forcefully he could actually pass as a serial killer. Jimin puts a palm to his face in incredulity.
As the lift jolts open, Hoseok throws himself into the small space, the respite much welcomed. Jimin drags their luggage after Hoseok, giving him a perplexed look. Jeongguk hobbles painfully in their wake, wincing as Hoseok lends him a shoulder for support.
“Enough about me, let’s talk about you, hyung!” Jeongguk says bleakly, grasping at straws. “Did we really tire your ass off last night? You look even more wasted than my brother before his morning coffee.”
But Jimin’s no longer listening, a finger hovering over the ground floor button, frozen in place. A shock of bright hair had just come into view, much to Jimin’s utmost horror. His blood runs cold, and his heart pounds in his chest.
Fuck, fuck, FUCK, Jimin swears internally, mashing the close button as if his life depended on it. His eyes flit agitatedly from the panel to the doors then to the person dashing towards the lift, reciting the word ‘SHUT’ in a furious mantra.
The lift doors creak into motion after an eternity, rumbling closed at an agonizingly slow speed. Jimin’s thinking that yes, maybe he’s prevented the next apocalypse when disaster itself slips in effortlessly through the very last crack of space.
“Abs! It’s you again!” It’s no other than Carrot Top terror himself, panting as the doors rattle closed. Jimin nearly opts to jump out, but the lift has already started its descend downwards. The redhead dumps his luggage clumsily on the floor, catching his breath as he peers at Jimin.
“Nearly didn’t recognize you right there!” Carrot Top says with a wheezy laugh. “You look so different with your clothes on!”
Hoseok and Jeongguk’s jaws drop open simultaneously. Fleetingly cured of their hangovers, they look uncannily like pop-eyed toys from one of those arcade claw machines. Hoseok’s earmuffs slide off his ears; Jeongguk blinks his huge eyes, confounded. Jimin’s dumbstruck, his mouth opening and closing foolishly like a goldfish, the color draining unpleasantly from his face. A pregnant silence settles upon the small space, the mechanical clunking of the lift with their faint breathing the only sound present.
Hoseok’s puzzled expression quickly evaporates, instantly replaced by a look of pure elation, eyes sparkling like he’s just witnessed the rebirth of Christ.
“Oh my god!” he hisses, hardly able to contain his joy as his pitch and volume rise at alarming speed. “PARK JIMIN, YOU GOT IT UP THE ASS!?” Eyes practically luminescent in his joy, he jumps on the spot like an energetic elephant, the lift quaking dangerously as his feet slam against the floor. Jimin scuttles away from Carrot Top, putting as much distance as possible between them as he finally finds his voice.
“N-NO!” Jimin shrieks, frantically defending himself as his face goes up in flames. “I don’t know him! He’s lying!”
“But we were together last night!” Carrot Top responds, dismayed. “How could you forget me?”
“No wonder you were so tired this morning! All that action going on when we were out cold—”
“WILL YOU FUCKING LISTEN,” Jimin thunders, his sanity falling away as he stabs a finger at the source of the problem. “We never met until today!”
Well, technically he did run into this asshole in the early hours of the morning so he’s isn’t lying. He looks to Jeongguk, his last hope, for backup. Jeongguk has his arms crossed over his chest defensively, shaking his head in disapproval.
“How sneaky of you, hyung,” he tuts sourly. “Doing these sorts of things when we were knocked out.” A beat later, his face lights up like a Christmas tree. “But I’ll forgive you if you tell me everything,” the youngest boy insists, gripping Jimin by the shoulders and shaking him back and forth excitedly. “Every. Single. Thing.”
Oh no. Not Jeongguk too. The little twerp.
Shrugging off the hyperactive idiots, he snatches up his own bags just as the lift mercifully rattles open. Thrusting the room card into Hoseok’s hands, he throws a filthy look at Carrot Top before stalking off, his face as red as a tomato. Carrot Top strides out of the lift, hollering after him.
“You know I didn’t catch your name, Abs!”
Making a point to avoid the reception desk (he swears the receptionist is eyeing him with something approaching hunger), Jimin flounces outside into the late afternoon. A gush of warm air hits him squarely in the face. Sparing no time to dawdle, he hails a taxi standing on the curb and wildly waving his hand like some madman. Eventually, a yellow cab skids to a stop in front of him, bathing Jimin in putrid fumes.
Jimin hastily crams his luggage into the boot, his mind only focused on getting out of this godforsaken place and away from all this nonsense. Marching in and out of the lobby, he works at turbo speed, stuffing everybody’s bags into the back of the taxi paying no heed to Carrot Top’s yells.
“Don’t be mad, Abs! If I say sorry, will you give me your number? Please?"
Jimin pushes past him, grabbing the last bag belonging to Hoseok. He tosses it into the back and slams the boot shut, his expression murderous. Jeongguk bounds out of the building, livelier than the Easter Bunny himself, and before Jimin can protest, the hyped up boy’s already hauling him over to Carrot Top.
“This,” Jeongguk holds up Jimin’s hand, “is Park Jimin. Never knows when to loosen up, except when nailing dance moves. Hates greens and has the flexibility of Simone Biles. But I think you have first-hand experience, right?” Jeongguk smiles slyly at the redhead. “And Jimin-hyung, who’s—”
The anger that had been simmering inside him finally overflows, Jimin erupting like a long dormant volcano, with the works.
“I don’t care who the fuck this fuckboy is, WE’RE LEAVING!”
With a yelp, Jeongguk is shoved unceremoniously into the backseat of the vehicle, which quickly devolves into immature squabbling. While the other two boys are distracted, Hoseok taps Carrot Top on the shoulder, attracting the redhead’s attention.
“When are you guys going at it again? I’m just so happy for him, you know? He’s always so shy when it comes to this sort of thing, hostile even at times, but he actually opened up to you—I can’t believe it!” He prattles on, fishing out his phone excitedly. “Did he give you his number? No, right? I bet not, he’s always too self-conscious. No worries, I got it right here—”
“Hoseok-hyung! YOU GET YOUR ASS HERE BEFORE I GET IN THE DRIVER’S SEAT AND RUN YOU OVER!”
“But Jimin, let me give the hot guy your digits—”
With all the strength he can muster, Jimin yanks Hoseok’s arm roughly and forces him into the taxi, Hoseok’s words cut off by Jimin slamming the taxi door shut.
Carrot Top watches the taxi recede to a small dot in the distance before disappearing, swallowed up in the Los Angeles traffic. Looking down disappointedly at his phone, he reprimands himself for not jumping at his chance. Now he might never see that cute guy ever again.
Sliding his phone into his jeans, a ghost of a smile plays on his lips as he musses up his brilliant hair.
There’s always Kakao, if he wants to be creepy.
“Details, Chim Chim!” Hoseok bounces up and down like an impatient child in his seat as the taxi speeds along. “We want DETAILS!”
“Hyung, hyung, HYUNG!” Jeongguk tugs on Jimin’s sleeve eagerly, “Was he dominant or submissive? Loud or soft? Rough or gentle? HOW WAS IT!?”
“PLEASE DESCRIBE HIS DI—”
“If you guys don’t shut up,” Jimin threatens, eyes flashing angrily, “I’m going to throw you fuckheads out of this taxi and let the cars squish you shitless.”
“At least tell us how big wa—-”
“There’s no goddamn details because NOTHING HAPPENED!” Jimin growls, turning his back on them to sulk. “For the millionth time, I don’t know him.”
“Why the fuck you lying~” Jeongguk sings mockingly under his breath, the taxi driver giving him a strange look (as if he hasn’t been freaked out already by the two boys’ maniacal antics).
“Don’t bother Jiminnie for now, Kookie,” Hoseok nods, eyes twinkling an in insufferably knowing fashion. “He’ll spill when he’s ready, so let’s not pressure him.”
Jimin massages his temples with the air of a person just having escaped from hell. The scenery whizzing past his window and the honking of cars makes his head hurt.
It’ll be a long time before Jimin decides to listen to that damn horse and little twat’s “YOLO plans” again, that’s for sure.
holyjisoos
3:06PM
yo bro where u at
is ur freshie with u & hobie hyung
chimchim95
3:08PM
on the way half hour tops
yep noisy annoying & not even a bit nervous [rolling eyes emoji]
but in a new place he always freaks out
holyjisoos
3:13PM
k tell kookies 2 chill
ill round up the crew 2 give him a warm welcome ;)
chimchim95
3:15PM
hes more than chill he wont stop singing
but cool dude thx c u
holyjisoos
3:16PM
[thumbs up emoji]
ii. the world’s goin’ crazy (what about you)
Pushing open the door to the common room, Jimin and Jeongguk are immediately greeted by a heated sight. Two figures in the midst of snogging each other senseless on the couch, a tangle of arms and legs, with their lips interlocked and emitting obscenely and annoyingly loud moans. Jeongguk’s pupils dilate, goggling at the pair of shameless boys, and he swallows uneasily as the entirely inappropriate noises escape them.
Jimin sighs loudly, rolling his eyes so hard that they nearly roll into his head. Reassuring Jeongguk, he grabs the nearest cushion and socks the oblivious couple, a look of pure disgust on his face.
“Get a fucking room, motherfuckers!” Jimin demands. “Keep your mushiness to yourselves!”
Upon being thumped on the head, the gangly boy, Chanyeol gives a shriek before toppling off his partner onto the floor. Hissing in pain, he cards a hand through his crimson hair, giving Jimin the evil eye.
“OI!” he grumbles. “Is that any way to treat your seniors?”
“Then act like bloody seniors and stop traumatizing freshies!”
“Wait, is that the Jeon Jeongguk, your childhood friend?” Chanyeol’s boyfriend, Baekhyun gasps, bringing a hand to his mouth in an entirely unconvincing imitation of a shocked conservative aunt. “Sorry!”
“Five minutes!” Chanyeol holds up a palm imperatively before moving to straddle Baekhyun again, reconnecting their lips in an audibly wet and messy kiss. Jimin smacks his forehead in disbelief.
Luckily, Namjoon arrives just in time to pry the clingy boys apart (“No PDA in public spaces!” he yells for approximately the 55th time this year), much to Baekhyun’s disappointment.
“No fair!” Baekhyun whines, pointing an accusing finger at Namjoon. “You and Jackson make out all the time on this couch! Hypocrite!”
“No, we don’t,” Namjoon denies flatly, although his red ears signify otherwise. “It’s all him. I’m not nearly as desperate as Jackson Wang. I happen to still have some measure of self-control in public spaces.” It feels all too like the comment is being aimed at a person not currently in the room, despite said person’s inability to hear conversations from the furthest end of the room.
Jimin snorts loudly at Namjoon’s claims. Jeongguk hides behind Jimin, looking completely scandalized.
People start trickling in, mingling and catching up after the long summer break. In a corner of the room, other fellow Koreans began to congregate, chatting to each other in a whirlwind of Korean. Jimin’s watching Jeongguk explain to Jeonghan about his weird scarf (what is up with that kid and his Ironman fetish?) when Seungcheol elbows him.
“Check out that dude’s hair.” He nudges Jimin lightly, nodding towards the doorway. “Completely wicked.”
Glancing briefly in the general direction Seungcheol indicated, Jimin can feel the grin sliding off his face as he catches sight of a painfully familiar boy with flaming hair. Jimin’s vision narrows down to just that face, sirens blaring shrilly inside his head, his conscious brain shrieking at him to run but all he can do is gape.
When a coherent thought finally manages to take shape in his startled brain (maybe there’s still time to play dead?), the other boy’s wandering gaze finds his. Jimin jerks his gaze away as if he’s been electrocuted, dread pooling heavy in his gut.
The coincidence is just too perfectly cliché, like something out of those bad, sappy love novels Wonwoo wastes his time on.
Carrot Top’s eyes light up in interest, not leaving Jimin’s face as he crosses the room purposefully, lips raised in that irksome smirk. In a state of extreme panic, Jimin searches frantically for a place to hide, aware of the impending doom drawing closer in the form of an orange ball of energy. Working himself into a frenzy, Jimin desperately wrests the closest object in his line of his sight and fumbles to shield his face.
A bewildered Wonwoo struggles with Jimin for his paperback (I thought you hate Twilight, hyung?) but Jimin refuses to let go, ignorant to the fact that he’s holding the book upside down.
Suddenly, the book is tugged away from Jimin’s hands, revealing a boxy grin framed by carrot-coloured strands and bright eyes.
“Didn’t know you’re into stuff like this, Abs! Cute.” Carrot Top taps the cover of the offending book, raising an eyebrow at the boy on the couch and beaming. “When you meet my mom, bring along romance novels and she’ll welcome you with open arms!”
Jimin gawks stupidly back, temporarily mute, his lips moving soundlessly. His friends watch on curiously, not knowing that Jimin’s having an emotional meltdown. Except for the two assholes shaking with silent laughter, slapping their thighs as if Christmas has come early (what a way to repay him for his babysitting services, what pals they are). Seungcheol, who’s been observing the entire exchange in mild bemusement, voices his own thoughts first.
“Jimin, do you know—” but he’s immediately cut off by a certain loudmouth.
“Really well!” Hoseok blurts out, gesturing animatedly between Jimin and Carrot Top. “So, like, Jimin got laid—”
Jimin clamps a hand over the squawking boy’s mouth at once, muffling Hoseok’s sputtering. Blood rushes to his cheeks as Jimin shakes his head fervently.
“Hoseok-hyung’s bullshitting,” he says hurriedly over the astounded murmurs sweeping through the group of boys. “I’ve never met that dude in my life.” Jimin glowers warningly at Jeongguk who has a fist stuffed into his mouth to subdue the outburst of giggles. “Major misunderstanding.”
Carrot Top, seemingly calm as he flips idly through the book, stops at Jimin’s words.
“Aw, sweetheart.” He pouts pitifully like a puppy, looking wounded. “That’s so mean of you writing me off, you little heartbreaker.”
Shutting the book abruptly, he tosses it back to Jimin who catches it by reflex. His eyes travelling lewdly over Jimin’s physique, Carrot Top cocks his head and directs a lopsided grin at Jimin.
“What a pity.” He sighs dramatically, nibbling his bottom lip seductively.
“Your body was really sensational, no kidding.”
Stunned silence follows before Namjoon springs up from his slouching position, eyes wide as saucers.
“[WHAT!? JIMIN LOST HIS VIRGINITY!?]”
Every single occupant of the room scattered around in their separate cliques swerves to stare at Jimin, the last words of conversation chopped off instantly. Earth shattering stillness ensues. Sensing all eyes on him, burning heat crawls further up to his ears, distress painting Jimin’s features. The humiliation is roughly equivalent to him being hurled into the middle of a crowd in the nude.
“F-FUCK NO!” he splutters, completely floored. “I did not—” But he’s out of the pan and into the fire as Jeongguk cups his hands over his mouth and bellows:
“[JIMIN HAD SEX WITH A GUY!]”
An enormous uproar explodes forth like a violent wave, engulfing the entire space. Jimin lurches for the little prick, but Jeongguk dances out of his reach. Hoseok (who had long since escaped Jimin’s clutches) is clapping like a seal in impish delight.
“Shame I can’t hang around, but bags don’t unpack themselves.” the fire-haired scoundrel, Carrot Top winks at a flustered Jimin before turning away from the havoc building up around him and saunters out of the room. “Swing by my room later, babe… I missed you coming last night,” he calls over his shoulder, simpering cockily at a fuming Jimin. The noise is deafening, everybody whooping loudly at Carrot Top’s words.
Jimin buries his flaming face in his hands, wanting nothing more than to just die on the spot.
As soon as Carrot Top closes the door behind him, Chanyeol and Baekhyun leap to their feet hushing the throng of rowdy people. Clearly his throat rather noisily, Chanyeol fishes out a small booklet from his pocket and flips to the very last page.
“Park Jimin…” Chanyeol proclaims seriously. “[By the homosexual power vested in me, I hereby decree you an honorary member of the We Are Fucking Gay Club.]”
Baekhyun promptly takes Jimin’s palm, shaking his hand solemnly and firmly.
“[May you live long, prosper and fuck.]”
There’s about a few seconds delay before the room erupts into maniacal laughter. Chanyeol’s doubled over, guffawing harder than ever while Baekhyun sinks to the floor, clutching his stomach in uncontrollable hysterics. Jimin flings away Baekhyun’s hand, the touch practically scalding in his current state.
“I-I-”
“[I KNEW IT!]” Joshua declares, chest heaving as he wipes the tears from his eyes. “I knew you’re too god damn pretty to be straight, Park Jimin!”
“But I AM straight!” Jimin wails, his face scarlet with combined rage and embarrassment. “That slime ball, he—”
“I AM SO PROUD OF YOU, CHIM CHIM!” Namjoon slaps him heartily on the back. “Finally! We thought this day would never come! Our little Jiminnie has grown up!” he mock cries into Jackson’s shoulder.
“No need to be shy, Jimin! You finally handed in your V-card for good!” Jackson booms, grin splitting his face in two. “Welcome to the Gay Club, my junior!”
“No, LISTEN—”
But Jimin’s voice gets drowned out by the chaotic racket, pandemonium breaking out. He can’t get a single word in; no one wants to hear that he’s not gay (he hasn’t even had his first kiss yet, Jesus Christ). Everybody is pelting him with an endless flood of questions determined to squeeze out every scrap of intel from him.
As Jimin tries to sidle over to the doorway, Hoseok waylays him, whispering in his ear mischievously.
“So where were you… Top or bottom?”
Finally overwhelmed and reaching tipping point, Jimin cracks.
“I’m going to bed,” he seethes, pushing everyone out of his path wrathfully as he storms out.
“I’m your roomie, Chim Chim!” Seungcheol’s mirthful voice rings clearly behind him. “You can’t hide forever; I’ll find out one way or another!”
Jimin turns a blind ear from the howls of laughter echoing down the passageway, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists, imbedding little red half-moons in the skin of his palms. Grasping the doorknob and stalking into his room, he snatches up a fresh set of clothes before stomping his way down the hall to the showers at the end, gnashing his teeth ill-temperedly.
What supportive friends he has. . .
“And we meet again, Abs! How fate ships us.”
Eyes flickering to the source of the voice, Jimin’s met by that bothersome rectangular grin that he loathes with a passion. The irritating boy leans against the doorframe, twirling a marker leisurely around his fingers. Glancing at the white board on the door, he can see the words “Kim Taehyung” scrawled carelessly underneath the name “Joshua Hong.” Looking at this Kim Taehyung, Jimin visualizes kicking him in the balls.
“You’re gonna be fated to meet my fist if you don’t shut the fuck up,” Jimin snaps, hands clenched, aggrievement making his blood boil.
“Sorry, babe.” Carrot Top, now known as Taehyung tilts his hand and replies innocently, “I’m just so happy that we’re living on the same campus; I thought I would never see your adorable face again.”
“Call me cute one more time and you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”
“But I prefer topping, Abs!” Taehyung whines. “Besides, not on the first day of term. God, I should make you mad more often if you’re going to be this cute.”
Jimin’s eyebrow twitches, once again bereft of speech. He doesn’t know whether to scream, laugh or cry. Wishing that he could commit murder with his glare alone, he turns on his heel sharply and stomps away, not forgetting to flip Taehyung off.
“You’re welcome to drop by if you get locked out again, Abs! Don’t forget to bring your six-pack!”
Jimin groans, flushing as red as a stop sign. Looks like this is going to be one long year…
< blacklight added chimchim95 and taelion to We Are Fucking Gay Club: Korean Branch>
blacklight
10:07PM
yo jiminie
heres the form pls fill it by tmr k
we need 4 applications process ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
(attached photo)
happyvirus
10:13PM
congrats chim chim!!
all u have 2 do is take the oath
then ur a member yay \(^0^)/
(attached photo)
wangpuppy
10:16PM
bro i never thought u would be here but ur here 2 stay!!!!
honour the code kid
u can never go back 2 being a ruler (~˘▾˘)~
runchranda
10:20PM
don't scare the kid dumbass
oh yeah chim chim dont forget 2 pick up the welcome pack
ill pass u xtra lube tmr chan & baek used up the last of it
jiminie say something wont ya
< chimchim95 left We Are Fucking Gay Club: Korean Branch>
wangpuppy
10:25PM
what he cant just LEAVE
some1 add him back!!!!
runchranda
10:28PM
CHIM CHIM
U GOT NO JAMS
Jimin’s giving Jeongguk a tour of the campus when someone suddenly slaps his behind making him yelp. Jumping back a few feet, he jabs a finger at the culprit, eyes glinting threateningly.
“What the hell!?” Jimin barks, his other hand moving protectively to his butt.
Taehyung looks him once over, appraising his appearance. With a snapback concealing his bedhead, Jimin sports an unsurprising black tee along with pants that cling to his figure, denim jacket slung casually over his shoulder.
“Did you sit in candy, Abs?” Taehyung wolf-whistles. “Because that’s one sweet ass!”
Jimin nearly cringes into the next century. Jeongguk throws back his head and roars with laughter, reveling at how fast it takes for Jimin’s face to turn red.
“Y-You-” Jimin stammers, “Go and use your lame one-liners on someone other poor soul and stop bothering me.”
“But I’m lost~” Taehyung wails, jutting out his bottom lip. “I’m new and I’m scared! Come on.” The persistent boy latches onto Jimin’s arm, begging profusely. “Pleaseee, Abs, show me around!”
On instinct, Jimin flinches at Taehyung’s touch, breaking away from his hold.
“No way, I don’t need to deal with another.” He turns to indicate Jeongguk, only to realize that the boy has vanished.
“Have fun on your playdate, Jimin-hyung!” Jeongguk hollers in the distance. “Be good, Chim Chim, and be home before midnight!” With one last shout laced with cheekiness, he bolts after what appears to be Hoseok, disappearing out of sight, scarf flapping behind him in the breeze.
Jimin has half the mind to choke that little ungrateful brat with that retarded scarf of his.
Even before Taehyung can react, Jimin’s already walking briskly, weaving his way through the mass of people going about their day. The light-haired boy chases after him, jogging to keep up with his pace.
“Aw, come on, Abs,” Taehyung says. “Lighten up a tad!” He grabs Jimin’s wrist in the middle of the square and implores. “Show your fellow mate the ropes, won’t you?”
Jimin’s anger spills over, the blazing fire inside him escalating into an inferno. He swats away Taehyung’s hand, aiming all of his displeasure at the insolent, carrot-haired fool before him.
“Will you just leave me alone?” he growls emphasizing each syllable painfully slowly. “Look here, Carrot Top! I don’t even know you, yet you keep making it as if we’re all chummy! Well, we’re not!”
Chest heaving in aggravation, Jimin observes Taehyung’s face for any sign of discomfort or negative emotion. But instead of looking hurt, Taehyung seems to be deep in thought, arms folded over his chest as his wind works furiously. After about a minute, he snaps his fingers, as if he’s just come to a conclusion.
“You’re right, Abs.” He nods earnestly before muttering to himself. “Why didn’t I see this before?”
Exhaling in relief, Jimin relaxes. Finally, something went through that impenetrable brain of his.
“Okay then, I’ll just—”
“Go out with me.”
Jimin does a double take at those words, his mind drawing a blank.
“[Excuse me!?]” Jimin’s eyes widen to twice their size in disbelief, not trusting his own ears.
“You said that we need to know each other better, right?” Taehyung says, taking a step forward. “So what’s better than this?”
Jimin starts to back away cautiously, unsure of himself. He’s just about to make a run for it when he becomes conscious of the swarm of people that had gathered. Onlookers surround the pair of boys, enclosing them in a small circle, trapping Jimin and leaving no escape route, like a gazelle cornered by a lion. Everything has just backfired, exploding royally in his face.
“Carrot Top, what the—” But then Taehyung seizes a fistful of his shirt, a rough yank pulling the shorter boy towards him. A squeak escapes Jimin’s lips, the brute force nearly sending him careening right into Taehyung’s chest. A number of girls squeal shrilly at this development.
Their faces barely inches apart, Taehyung locks eyes with Jimin, gaze unwavering.
“Please, go out with me, Park Jimin!”
The crowd goes wild, noisy hoots and shrieks of excitement filling the atmosphere. Jimin’s jaw drops, his face alight with the flames of embarrassment. His brain’s in disarray, as if his mind’s been ransacked. The commotion hardly makes an impression on him; all he can do is stare up at Taehyung, mouth agape.
When his common sense finally decides to return from a holiday, he pushes hard, reeling from shock. About to spontaneously combust from humiliation, Jimin feels the enormous amount of pressure as the mass of students start chanting energetically.
“[Say yes! SAY YES!]”
The clamors crescendo to a climax, crashing down like a wave upon a petrified Jimin. He flounders, racking his brains wildly to find a way out of this sticky mess.
However, Taehyung soon senses JImin’s distress, opting to stuff his hands inside his pockets and turn away, smirking broadly.
“Think about it, Abs,” he chirps. “Take your time. I’ll wait. Try to, that is.” And with that smoothly said, he heads away in the opposite direction without a backward glance, the throng of people automatically parting to give way. The din dies down, the crowd dispersing as quickly as it had formed; although, a number of people linger behind eye Jimin with undisguised expectancy.
Jimin will later be ungainly late to his first dance class of the year, only to spend it screaming his throat hoarse when he checks his phone. The jackass who decided to SnapChat all of that is going to die a horrible death when Jimin finds him.
goldengullboy
10:21AM
hyung
u got 2 control urself
i know u like taetae hyung a lot but u gotta focus
seriously u need 2 stop staring at him when ur running
look wat happened
chimchim95
10:58AM
THE MOTHERFUCKER SHOUTED “WORK THOSE CHOCOLATE ABS BABY”
IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING GYM
HOW CRINGE WORTHY IS THAT GOD
goldengullboy
11:11AM
hyung just stop lying ur so obvious omg
just admit u like him (¬‿¬)
who falls on their ass cuz a random dude shouted at them
chimchim95
11:32AM
someone who was running on the treadmill & got the shock of their lives
asshat ಠ_ಠ
goldengullboy
11:40AM
OMG WAIT [raise hand emoji]
i have a great pun
drumroll pls
chimchim95
11:45AM
OH NO
DONT U DARE
U SAY IT ILL KILL U IN UR SLEEP JEON JEONGGUK
goldengullboy
11:47AM
U FELL SO HARD FOR HIM
GEDDIT
[crying laughing emoji]
*Notification: chimchim95 goes offline*
Seokjin is currently consumed in hysterics, his broad shoulders shaking with the force of his guffaws, sounding uncannily like a windscreen wiper. Perched on the edge of Jimin’s bed, he cackles uncontrollably at the video streaming on his phone, the device nearly slipping out of his hands.
“Oh god, Jimin-ah!” He hiccups. “That was just so—” A fresh wave of chortles bubbles up from his throat as the blond rocks backwards and forwards on the spot. “Why does all the fun happen after we graduate, Yoongi?”
Jimin screams into his pillow in a spirited attempt to smother himself. Yoongi pats the younger’s back sympathetically, fighting to keep a straight face.
“Calm down, Jiminnie,” he drawls, a hint of a smile in his voice. “Kid’s got some soulful singing. He even managed to pick your favorite song.”
“I mean look at him!” Seokjin thrusts the phone into Jimin’s face, stoked as he stabs a finger at the screen. “That’s boyfriend material right there, Jimin! Why won’t you even consider going out with such a perfect dude!? Not everyone gets serenaded in their lifetime—”
“He freaking sang ‘Eyes, Nose, Lips’ to me in the middle of the dining hall! At lunch! WITH ALMOST THE WHOLE SCHOOL POPULATION THERE!” Jimin hisses on the verge of hysteria, cheeks tinged bright pink at the memory alone. “Diving off a ledge sounds better than going out with that nutcase!”
Over the past month, Kim Taehyung has launched a full-scale advancement in declaring his love for Jimin, embarrassing the other boy to no end. Ever since Taehyung had asked Jimin to date him, he had badgered Jimin relentlessly, popping up conveniently in the least expected of places with his overflowing zealousness, his boisterous antics often leading to outrageous results.
Now notorious as being Kim Taehyung's “object of desire,” all of Jimin’s friends have put down Jimin's endless denials to be the result of pure coyness, publicly “shipping” him with Taehyung whenever and wherever. After that one asshole caught the whole “confession” on film and shared it to SnapChat, the news spread across campus like wildfire, with everyone convinced that Jimin and Taehyung have a thing.
Dance class is now a nightmare, with the constant teasing from his fellow dancers affecting his performance (Matthew had suggested that Jimin try out this amazing Kamasutra position during sex; a mortified Jimin had promptly tripped and landed on his face) and making him very, very grumpy. On a scale of one to ten, Jimin’s level of grumpiness would probably be classified as Min Yoongi on a Monday morning with no coffee.
Jimin had turned to him and his other hyung, Kim Seokjin, for mental support, but they’re proving to be no help at all. Seokjin hasn’t stopped raving about how charming Taehyung is (though of course not as handsome as him, he claims), and the bastard had the nerve to actually film the entire serenade scene, making it a point to watch it on his phone at least ten times a day (“JIMIN, YOUR FACE WAS ALL RED, THAT’S ADORABLE.”). Seokjin actually supports the “CarrotAbs” ship, as it’s been dubbed, taking it upon himself to advise Jimin to “Stop wallowing in denial and just date the kid already.”
“I don’t get it!” Seokjin exclaims. “He’s obviously very, very into you, judging by his current count of seventy-eight confessions. You want him to stop with the public confessions, and you also need to get laid.” Ignoring Jimin’s indignant squawk, he plows on. “Easy solution to both your problems—”
But his words are cut off by the pillow to his face, courtesy of Jimin’s throwing skills.
“—accept him and go out with him,” the eldest boy continues, undaunted. “Then he’ll stop his quest to win your affections, and you’ll get to finally have some sex. Seriously, Jimin. It’s basic problem-solving.”
“The main problem with your solution, hyung—I’m straight. Straight as a fucking ruler.” Jimin grinds his teeth. “Do I need to spell it out?”
“I can see the veins popping in your forehead. Chill, shorty.” Yoongi raises an eyebrow, “It’s not as if we’re asking you to marry the dude.”
Jimin’s face scrunches up in contempt, looking absolutely revolted at the notion.
“Marry him!?” He squawks, eyes bulging in fury. “I’ll rather jump off the Empire State Building than even be seen with that incredible moron!”
“You’re not even listening, Jimin,” Yoongi sighs. “Look, with a guy this level of determined and fucking oblivious, the easiest way to get him off your back is to indulge him. Just go out with him and see if it goes to hell. If it doesn’t, whoop-deedo.”
“Why the hell would I date an asshat like him!?” Jimin throws up his hands in exasperation.
Yoongi holds up three fingers, striking the points off as he goes along.
“He’s an idiot, blind, and dumb as fuck.” He articulates smoothly. “Matches you to a tee. So why not?”
Hearing Yoongi’s response, Jimin groans helplessly and sets to punching his pillow repeatedly, projecting Taehyung’s bothersome face onto it. His hyungs have all universally proven to be unhelpful, traitorous assholes. The world is really coming to an end.
“But Yoongi-hyung—”
“I mean, what’s not to like?” Yoongi shrugs, giving Jimin a sidelong glance. “Granted, he’s an overenthusiastic, moronic dick, but it’s not like you’ve got any room to talk in the stupidity department. And he doesn’t seem like the type to deliberately try to humiliate you. Probably thinks that this shit is romantic, actually—side-effect of watching too many shitty romcoms. To sum it up,” Yoongi pats Jimin on the head, “He’s not that bad of a guy. Just give it a shot, Jiminie.”
“And Hobie told me that Tae does a mean split,” Seokjin muses, his expression unchanging. “The both of you will make some crazy flexible babies. Or have some crazy flexible sex.” A beat of silence hits before Jimin finally boils over.
Yoongi hauls Seokjin out the door in a bid to escape Jimin’s wrathful screech, dodging the array of pillows flying their way.
“Oh, and Jiminie.” Yoongi pokes his head around the door, smirk on his lips. “Tell Taehyung you both have my blessing.”
“And he’s got the seal of approval from the former RA!” Seokjin chimes in, the two young men proceeding to dash out of the place at lightning speed, howling with laughter all the way back to their apartments.
Jimin chucks a pillow at where their heads were a split second ago, then turns and buries his face in another to muffle his incoherent rage. God, his friends are all such dicks.
Officially, the world has gone crazy.
iii. you can call me stupid (i'll just crack a smile)
Far from being deterred from Jimin’s staunch refusals, Taehyung’s efforts have hardly dwindled. In fact, much to Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s mirth, they had on one instance discovered an alarmed Jimin wedged in the space between the vending machines in a bid to escape Taehyung (“All I wanted was to hug you, Abs! Where’d you go?”). Taehyung’s determination is as fiery as his hair, and it’s gotten to the point where even the mere mention of his name is enough to send Jimin bolting in the opposite direction—anything to get away from further public embarrassment.
So when Jimin finds Hoseok sitting on his bed one weekday night, a scowl immediately makes an appearance on his face. Swaggering into the room, he glowers at Hoseok grumpily.
“If you’re here to make fun of me again, hyung,” Jimin growls, “Or to ask about non-existent sex details, you might as well piss off. I’ve dealt with enough shit today.”
Strangely, all but silence greets Jimin’s ears, worryingly abnormal in Hoseok’s company. Observing his hyung closely, Jimin notes the gloomy expression etched onto his usually jovial face. The corners of his mouth are turned down in a frown, knitted eyebrows drawing attention to his shadowed eyes which usually twinkle in mischief. He looks like the weight of the world is chained to his shoulders, the sight bringing forth a twinge of concern from Jimin.
“Hoseok-hyung?” he asks. “What’s eating at you?”
Lifting his head, Hoseok makes an effort to squeeze out a tight-lipped smile to reassure Jimin, but all he manages is a grimace.
“Just tired,” he mumbles wearily. “No sweat. Just asking if you feel like a drink.”
Eyebrows flying upwards in mild surprise, Jimin takes a quick glance at the clock on the wall.
“Hyung, it’s Tuesday.”
“I know, but I’m desperate,” Hoseok beseeches, tugging at Jimin’s arm distraughtly. “Please, if not… I’m going mad! Jimin, you got to help me! It’s just…” He breaths a shuddery breath, on the brink of tears. “So fucked up. Me… and him. I don’t know anymore.”
“Wait, is this…” Jimin pauses, everything suddenly clicking into place. Of course, how could he not notice the signs and the vibes. Oh god, is he stupid.
Scrutinizing the miserable boy before him, Jimin’s facial expression remains unchanged, yet the machinery of his brain are whirring furiously. Hoseok squirms nervously.
“…Get your coat,” he says after a spell, lips pursed in a tight line. “And tell Ricky.”
The moment Jimin turns to face Seungcheol, the other boy’s already removed his earbuds, giving him a thumbs up.
“Roger that.”
“Up you get, Hobie-hyung,” Jimin squats down, encouraging a red-faced Hoseok, the chill of the night making them shiver. “Hurry up, before we’re screwed.”
“I’m screwed… he’s screwed… she’s screwed.” Hoseok sways on the spot, gabbling inaudibly. “He’s screwing, she’s screwed.”
After much persuasion and words of consolation (“No one’s screwed then, okay?”), Jimin finally convinces a besotted Hoseok to clamber onto his back. His legs nearly buckling under Hoseok’s dead weight, Jimin inhales sharply, hoisting the other boy onto his shoulders with all the strength he can muster. Tottering towards the open window (bless you, Ricky), he tries to maintain his balance, his muscles screaming in protest.
Hoseok meekly crawls through the window into his room. His weight makes Jimin feel like he’s being squashed into the ground, the pressure exerted on his shoulders causing him to wince painfully. When he hears the telltale bump of Hoseok’s body hitting the floor, Jimin wipes away the sweat accumulating on his forehead with a long breath.
What kinda shit has that horse been eating—
“[OI! YOU!]”
A blinding beam of light falls upon Jimin, like one of those awesome spotlights in cool Hollywood movies or a searchlight catching a criminal with choppers whirling overhead.
There are no helicopters or any police cars for that matter, but there’s a single, very pissed off security guard, looking on the verge of turning into the Hulk.
For a split second, Jimin’s immobilized, dazed as a deer in the headlights before his legs move on instinct. Panic and terror sends him sprinting away from the source of light, fear overtaking his senses. He could just make out the livid face of the security guard on night patrol, and Jimin’s heard enough stories from his seniors to know that if he doesn’t run like hell, he’s royally fucked.
Pulling down the hood of his sweater to obscure his face, Jimin bolts like a fugitive on the run, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Blood roars in his ears as the guard engages in hot pursuit, Jimin swearing under his breath, not believing his misfortune. The burly man chases him with dogged persistence, swiping at Jimin in a bid to glom him, but he darts nimbly out of the guard’s reach.
Swerving rapidly into the shrubbery outside the dorms, Jimin skids and nearly slips, the beast hot on his heels. Ducking behind a hedge, Jimin lurks out of sight, his Adam’s apple bobbing vigorously. Pupils shaking in fear, his body trembling, Jimin tries to stabilize his ragged breathing with dull horror clutching at his heart.
If he ever gets out of this, he’s going to skin Hoseok alive.
Peeking around his fort apprehensively, Jimin’s heart nearly stops when someone suddenly taps him on the shoulder lightly.
“Fancy meeting you here, Abs.”
Jimin lets out a gasp of surprise, his soul nearly leaving his body. The flashlight immediately swerves and shines in their general direction, the guard’s ears picking up on the trail as he storms towards them. Without further hesitation Jimin grasps Taehyung’s hand, forcefully dragging him along, dashing deeper into the night.
“What the fuck are you doing here!?” Jimin hisses lowly, baffled by the redhead’s appearance. Taehyung doesn’t respond right away; all that registers with him is the softness of Jimin’s palm, yet it’s stone cold to the touch.
“…Watering the plants,” he replies, his answer causing Jimin to pause in his tracks for a moment.
“What!?”
“Oh, you know… Change of scenery.”
The roar of the grizzly night guard, sounding menacingly behind them is enough to stop Jimin’s mind from dwelling on irrelevant thoughts. Head whipping around frantically, Jimin dives behind the first bush he sees, yanking Taehyung with him just as the mountain-like figure emerges around the corner.
Crouching motionlessly among the leaves, the pair of boys try to reduce the rustling to a minimum, sharp twigs poking at their skin. The hunky man slows down to a walk, scanning the lawn for Jimin’s presence. His flashlight sweeps the grounds, clumsy footfalls crunching on dry grass. Heart hammering in Jimin’s chest, the scared boy holds his breath as the guard searches, drawing ever nearer to their hiding spot.
75 feet.
Instead of releasing Taehyung’s hand, Jimin’s gripping it so tightly that Taehyung notices that the other boy’s knuckles have gone white, Jimin’s fingernails digging into the flesh of his own palm.
50 feet.
Jimin’s bottom lip wobbles, body paralyzed, the face beneath his hood drained of color, pale as a ghost. Taehyung can feel Jimin’s violent body tremors through their connected hands.
35 feet.
Jimin whimpers, bowing his head, resigned to his fate. To think that it’d be Taehyung’s hand he’d be holding onto for dear life in a situation like this. How ironic.
“Jimin,” Taehyung suddenly rasps in Jimin’s ear, making the other boy jump a little, “Give me your hoodie.”
A dubious look crosses Jimin’s face, and he scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. He’s just about to snap at Taehyung when a finger presses lightly to his lips, shushing him into a stupor.
“Trust me, Jimin. Please.”
There’s a sense of assertiveness in Taehyung’s voice, devoid of his usual playfulness. Graveness weighs on his features, a firm resolve reflected in his hazel eyes, jaw set seriously. Jimin holds his gaze.
25 feet.
Eyes still trained on Taehyung’s face, Jimin throws off his beloved hoodie, Taehyung donning it in quick succession. Drawing up the hood, it hides his bright hair, which glows almost luminously in the dark. Exhaling through his nose, Taehyung holds Jimin gingerly by the shoulders, taking in his disconcerted face. The guard’s almost upon them, barely a foot from where they lie concealed.
“Put those gorgeous legs to use and run as fast as you can, you hear?” Eyes soft, the corners of Taehyung’s lips curl upwards in a roguish smirk before he pivots away from Jimin, body poised.
At that last second, it dawns on Jimin. His heart stutters.
“Taehyung!”
Lurching forwards to pull Taehyung back to safety, all Jimin’s hand grasps is thin air, his voice drowned out by Taehyung’s insane bellows. Leaping into the open, vulnerable and exposed in the glare of the torchlight, Taehyung flails like a gangly oversized chicken.
“[Can’t catch me, old fart!]”
Taehyung’s maniacal yelps pierces the stagnant air as he tears off down the lawn, the giant blundering after him, profanities ringing deafeningly through the dark. Zipping away in the opposite direction, Taehyung’s outline is swallowed up into the darkness, his taunts echoing in the atmosphere.
Jimin doesn’t know how he gets back to the dorms, his body moving without him making a conscience decision. He scrambles upwards and falls through the window into his room, a permanent buzzing in his mind due to shock.
Shutting the window with shaky hands, he collapses onto his bed, taking care not to wake a sleeping Seungcheol. Staring blankly at the ceiling, his head spins with surging perplexity, his thoughts as messy as a preschooler’s playroom.
Kim Taehyung just dived headfirst into danger like an idiot for him. Park Jimin, the one that always pushes him away.
His heart quivering in his chest, heavy with unbearable worry and confusion, Jimin throws a hand over his eyes, question marks floating above his head. Even when spears of light pierce through the silts in the curtains, Jimin lies awake, his mind preoccupied with Taehyung’s fate.
Barging into the room with a hasty knock on the door, Jimin’s eyes dart around the space, searching for that glint of sunset-red.
“Joshua, where the hell is that idiot?” His gaze falls on Taehyung’s bed, already made up with his stuffed lion sprawled across the pillows.
Joshua sets down his guitar, surveying the perturbed boy thoughtfully. Jimin smooths over the creases in his pants, bottom lip wedged between his teeth. He looks worse for wear, shoulders and body tense, eyes raw looking from a lack of sleep. No amount of hostility in his words is enough to mask the plain disquiet he’s giving off.
“…You know, you and Hoseok-hyung aren’t the most subtle when it comes to after-curfew-expeditions.”
Jimin’s forehead creases. The bed creaks as Joshua gets up, crossing over to the window. With a flourish, he draws open the curtains, blinding sunlight spilling into the room, making Jimin squint.
“Decent view from up here,” Joshua offers, expression carefully blank. “Perfect for keeping a look out.”
Jimin fists his own shirt, a sinking feeling in his stomach.
“Apparently some asshat decided to take a random piss at some godforsaken hour in the garden,” Joshua continues without hesitation. “Got into a whole load of bullshit for that.”
Guilt corrodes Jimin’s insides, gnawing corrosively at him like acid. His stomach churns uncomfortably, a sickening feeling arising in his chest. His hands tighten around the fabric of his tee, like how he had clung to Taehyung the night before.
There’s a brief silence before Joshua speaks.
“Said idiot’s serving his sentence at the Bio building—”
Jimin’s halfway out the door when Joshua calls him back.
“Oh, and here.” He tosses something to Jimin, the other boy fumbling and almost dropping it.
Unfurling the bundle meticulously, Jimin recognizes his hoodie with a jolt, the faint scent of detergent causing tears to spring to his eyes. It’s clean and ironed, obviously handled with utmost care. He gives a loud sniffle.
Kim Taehyung is such a dumbass.
“He knows it’s your favorite one.”
Joshua, chin in hand, smiles ever so slightly.
Wringing the murky water from the rag into the pail, Taehyung flicks his fringe out of his face, admiring his handiwork. Glimmering glass panes sparkle in the morning sun, like precious diamonds.
Five down, another few hundred “unpolished gems” to go.
About to get back to his grueling task, Taehyung suddenly hears the shuffling of feet. A pair of worn sneakers appear in his vision, followed by the loud clunk as a bucket, filled with clear water is set down on the floor. Standing up from his stooping position, Taehyung straightens up, coming face-to-face with Jimin.
Jet black hair sticks up everywhere at odd angles, a grubby rag gripped firmly in a fist, his free hand hanging awkwardly at his side. His cheeks are rosy, lips swollen from where white teeth have bitten down. Looking rather sheepish, he brings a hand up to his messy hair, managing to muss it up even more.
Taehyung opens his mouth, but all his words evaporate off the tip of his tongue the moment Jimin’s eyes meet his. Both boys locked in an intense gaze, a silent exchange passes between them, thoughts conveyed through their expressions.
After what seems like a million sunlit days, Jimin wets his cloth, proceeding to wipe the nearest window wordlessly. Taehyung joins him, the pair of boys cleaning in silence. For a brief spell, the only sounds in the space are the dripping of water and the squeaking of the rag rubbing against the glass surface.
Jimin’s struggling to reach one of the higher panes when he feels a hand on his head.
“I’ll handle the top ones,” Taehyung reassures gently, tousling Jimin’s raven locks (so his hair’s really as soft as it looks). “Don’t strain yourself more than you already have.”
Red blooms across Jimin’s cheeks at Taehyung’s gesture, an internal turmoil of emotions and thoughts jostling to be expressed.
“…Thank you,” Jimin finally mumbles with difficulty, turning an even darker shade of crimson that travels up to the tips of his ears.
Taehyung’s hand stills, the redhead’s mouth forming a wide “O” as he stares at Jimin like he’s just pulled a full-sized dog out from his pockets. Jimin blushes harder and goes back to wiping, scrubbing hard at an invisible spot of dirt to try and fight the heat in his cheeks.
It takes only a few seconds for Taehyung to crack up, the boy dissolving into a fit of laugher, his eyes crinkling into crescents.
“S-Shut up,” Jimin stammers, wishing desperately for a crack in the earth to just open up and swallow him whole. “If not, I’m taking that back.”
“Aw, you meanie!” Taehyung’s just plain gleeful now. “Does that mean you’ll go out with me?”
“Don’t push it.”
“Then at least respond to me on Kakao!” Taehyung begs, eyes wide and pitiful. “Please?”
A pause. Taehyung waits in anticipation.
“…Maybe.” Jimin replies quietly, his facial features softening. He turns his head and offers him a half smile, his lip curling upwards slightly.
Taehyung’s floored, a weird sensation bubbling in his stomach, warmth curling up in his chest. Sparks fly around in his brain as Taehyung tries to connect the dots and make sense of the strangeness he’s feeling. Instead, this just causes his mind to short circuit.
If he has to get into trouble just to see that smile, he’ll happily become a wanted criminal.
“What? God, stop making that face. You’re so stupid.” Jimin whacks Taehyung’s shoulder with the rag in his hands, his hostile façade falling away to reveal a shy, red-faced boy.
It’s only then that Taehyung realizes he probably spoke his thoughts out loud. Oops. His mouth stretches into a goofy smile. Jimin tries valiantly to look serious and fails miserably.
“Idiot.”
Taehyung only beams wider. The morning sun peeks out from behind a cloud, bathing the world in radiant gold.
s unshinehope
11:27AM
shoot tae i just heard
I AM SO SORRY ITS ALL MY FAULT
u getting into trouble cuz of jimin
him cuz he was helping me
i feel like a total dick rn
ILL DO ANYTHING
booze??
intel????
BLOWJOB???????
taelion
11:55AM
shhhh hyung
its fine its not ur fault
sunshinehope
12:01PM
NO IT IS & I DUNNO HOW 2 MAKE IT UP TO U
I FEEL HORRIBLE
i would tell u in person if i could
but im dying with the flu
taelion
12:04PM
what hyung its just the flu
u being dramatic [laughing emoji]
but tbh hyung really dun worry
i should actually thank u
sunshinehope
12:07PM
wha
u like wiping windows???? [confused emoji]
taelion
12:11PM
a lot ;)
gotta ciao
oh & tell kookie i say hi [wink emoji]
sunshinehope
12:13PM
WAIT
TAE COME BACK
HOW DID U KNOW
ARE YOU PSYCHIC
chimchim95
4:59PM
hello?
carrot top
is this u?
taelion
5:02PM
YEEEEEES
U FINALLY ANSWERED MEEEEE
[multiple heart shape emojis]
chimchim95
5:06PM
ugh enough with the hearts [rolling eyes emoji]
dun be disgusting
taelion
5:08PM
come on
my arms still hurt from all that wiping [pout emoji]
chimchim95
5:12PM
hey bout that
um
i know this korean place
that serves great kimbap
tonight is the 2 for 1 promo
taelion
5:14PM
awwwwwwwww
are u asking me out on a date (¬‿¬)
chimchim95
5:17PM
stop being weird
if not im not paying
taelion
5:19PM
u mean its on u?
its fine ill pay
real men take the bill
chimchim95
5:22PM
just let me buy u dinner ok
its the least i can do
taelion
5:30PM
fine then thx
but im paying next time
[peace emoji]
chimchim95
5:32PM
fine
c u @ 6
:)
iv. you’re worth it (you’re perfect)
Drenched in sweat, Jimin rakes a hand through his damp hair, his breath coming out in harsh pants. Chest heaving, he can feel his head spinning, black spots dancing mockingly in front of his eyes. Pure willpower keeps him on his feet, the only thing stopping his aching feet from buckling beneath him. With perspiration sticking uncomfortably to his skin, he stares at his own reflection in the mirror. A wave of nausea and loathing rises in his chest, a distorted image of himself permanently imprinting itself in his mind the longer he looks.
Bile rises in his throat as he tears apart his own image in his head, mentally picking out all of his flaws.
His movements aren’t controlled enough. Sloppy, even. This barely deserves to be called dancing. He looks like he’s drowning on land with the way he flails about like some amateur.
Jimin feels sick, disgusted by the mere sight of himself.
Gritting his teeth, he resumes his vigorous practice, pushing his exhausted body to the limit. He tries to immerse himself in the blaring music, perfecting each motion with as much detail as he can muster, steadfastly ignoring the empty void in his stomach.
He runs through the step sequence over and over again, like a helpless puppet to his own conscience. His footwork is shoddy, movements lackadaisical, gestures not sharp enough.
His legs feel like deadweight, his arms like they’re made out of lead, but Jimin presses on relentlessly. Every new repetition is worse than the one before it, leaving him all the more unsatisfied. He forces his throbbing legs to propel him into the air and his body to move to the beat.
As he wheezes hard, an intense pain shoots up Jimin’s legs like tongues of fire, making him hiss in pain. He staggers, body swaying like a rag doll. His mind fogs over, near the brink of collapse.
“Again,” he commands himself. He’s about to start another run through when the door flies open, momentarily distracting Jimin from his drills.
Laden with armfuls of bulging bags, Taehyung totters into the studio clumsily, wobbling precariously. Jimin stares, stumped by his sudden appearance at this hour.
“I don’t know what you’re craving right now,” Taehyung offers casually, dumping everything at Jimin’s feet with a flourish of his hands and raising his voice to be heard above the loud music. “So I bought them all.”
Stupefied, Jimin stares at the pile of groceries incredulously, swallowing back the saliva that starts to pool in his mouth. Taehyung chases after a stray orange, bending down and grabbing the citrus fruit as it rolls across the floor. It takes Jimin a while to snap out of his haze and make himself shake his head.
“I’m not hungry—”
But then Jimin’s stomach chooses this moment this very moment to growl loudly. Taehyung arches a perfect eyebrow at him.
“I’m not eating,” Jimin manages feebly. His cheeks feel terribly hot, but he dismisses it as from his practice.
“Ah~” Taehyung complains loudly, waving the orange in his hand forlornly. “How can you let my effort go to waste?”
“Then I’ll pay you back!” Jimin retorts, trying his best to ignore the enticing aroma of the heap of food.
Taehyung abruptly reaches out and pulls his fatigued body forcefully to the floor. Jimin squeaks in surprise as he plops down next to the redhead.
“Eat.” Still gripping Jimin’s hand, Taehyung points at the small mountain of food, expression stern as if he’s chiding a child.
“Don’t wanna.” Jimin crosses his arms over his chest in defiance, pouting stubbornly. Again, his stomach makes a racket. Taehyung frowns.
“Just eat already, Abs,” Taehyung reiterates. “Or do I need to feed you?”
“I’m fat!” Jimin whines, at wit’s end. “My thighs are too big; my cheeks are too puffy…” he says in a small voice, head drooping.
"FAT!?" the other boy's voice comes out as a high-pitched shriek. "Jimin, there's hardly any fat on you!"
"Yes, there is! Look," Jimin tugs at his own face and pouts. "Look at all this baby fat! It just won't go away, I hate it!"
Taehyung suddenly leans forward, seizing Jimin’s cheeks and squishing them enthusiastically.
“But you’re cute with chubby cheeks!” he croons, pinching and squeezing Jimin’s soft cheeks, just like how a woman would do to a newborn baby. “Why don’t you like them? Everyone loves them!”
With the remainder of his energy, Jimin swats away Taehyung’s hands.
“I need to practice.” Unable to meet Taehyung’s eyes, Jimin mumbles stonily, a chill in his tone that freezes Taehyung’s insides and leaves a hollow feeling in his chest. Struggling to his feet, he moves mechanically towards the furthest corner of the room, Taehyung watching his progress motionlessly. To Taehyung’s curiosity, Jimin pauses mid-walk, hesitating with his sweaty back to him.
Suddenly, Jimin swerves on the spot, walking briskly back towards Taehyung, his head bowed to hide his tomato red face. Snatching up a piece of fried chicken, Jimin makes his way back to his corner self-consciously, tearing a huge chunk of meat with his teeth and chewing loudly. The corner of Taehyung’ lip curls upwards in a smirk as he observes the famished boy wolf down the rest of the chicken with much gusto. But then Jimin’s dancing again, and Taehyung’s brows furrow.
Taehyung loves the way Jimin’s body flows to the rhythm, like he’s made of fluid. He loves how his feet usually glide effortlessly across the floor, moving with a grace that the average person can hardly match. Yet now, Jimin’s face is screwed up in concentration, his hands uncoordinated with his feet, movements falling out of tempo. Every gesture he makes requires exertion, and he grunts with each one, grinding his teeth in annoyance. Taehyung can hear Jimin’s labored breathing and see what hell the dance major’s putting himself through.
The redhead notes how sharp Jimin’s cheek bones have become, how defined his jawline is. Although his cheeks are flushed, they no longer glow with natural health, his overall appearance gaunt.
In an instant, the music is cut off abruptly, a faint note still hanging in the air. Jimin whips around to see Taehyung’s finger on the off button.
“Carrot,” Jimin deadpans. “Switch that damn thing back on.”
Taehyung presses imperatively, face unsmiling. “You still owe me after I saved your hot ass the other day.”
Jimin’s mouth clicks shut, all retorts disappearing into nothing. Taehyung’s heart wrenches at how tired the other boy looks, like he’s one step away from melting into the floor. Jimin’s stomach swoops when Taehyung takes his hand.
“It’s 3am.” Taehyung, having removed Jimin’s phone from the dock of the sound system, presses the device into its owner’s palm. “We’re out of here. For Christ’s sakes, you’re not a machine.”
“But the showcase—”
“Isn’t for another three weeks,” Taehyung affirms curtly, heaving a sigh at Jimin’s crestfallen expression. “I’m not gonna watch you wear out your cute body like that.”
Jimin’s so spent that he just nods dumbly and concedes.
Bags of food in hand, they leave the studio, Jimin sliding on his hoodie before reluctantly locking up. He turns in the direction of the dorms before Taehyung stops him.
“Wrong way, Abs. We’re not going back just yet.”
“Tae, do you really like wiping windows that much—”
“Don’t be a killjoy, Jimbles.” Taehyung winks craftily. “It’s just around the corner, and people never look up.”
A skeptical look passes over Jimin’s face. “Up?”
Taehyung flashes a wide grin.
“You’ll see.”
"Enlighten me as to why we’re climbing a fucking tree," Jimin huffs up at Taehyung, hands on his hips. "I don’t want to fall and die.”
"Because trees are awesome." A box-shaped grin beams back at him in the dark, teeth glinting in the light like a distorted Cheshire Cat. “And I’ll catch you if you fall, babe.” Jimin pulls a mock face of revulsion, and Taehyung shrugs sheepishly, extending a beckoning hand towards him.
Contemplating Taehyung's outstretched palm, Jimin finally relents. He grasps Taehyung’s hand gingerly, a tingling sensation going through his fingers as he's tugged upwards, heart leaping in his chest. Scrambling up the seasoned bark of the tree trunk with the help of Taehyung's grip, Jimin lands next to the beaming boy, giddy with a dash of exhilaration that invigorates his lethargic senses. Taehyung moves swiftly, settling into a comfortable position before patting the spot next to him.
“Scoot over here, Abs.” He gestures over to Jimin. Jimin shifts carefully along the bough, tracing the bumpy grooves of the gnarled bark under his palms.
“[Neat, huh?]” Taehyung grins broadly as Jimin joins him. “I found this place on my first week, when I was chasing a squirrel.” Jimin directs a judgemental look at Taehyung, to which he disregards. “Not exactly world class scenery, but it’s my favorite thinking spot.”
They’re elevated a small distance above the ground, above a patch of wilted grass, once lush and green in the summer. Pulling his hoodie tighter around him, Jimin’s breath escapes in a great whoosh. A fine mist swirls in the air, dissipating rapidly in the autumn chill.
“The view would be nice if everything wasn’t dead,” Jimin squints at the dark silhouettes far off, recognizing the various buildings shrouded in shadow. Taehyung rummages through the bags, producing a container of fried chicken.
“You look as alive as Yoongi-hyung at the gym,” He thrusts the poultry into Jimin’s hands, “Please rejuvenate thyself.”
Jimin’s resolve crumbles to dust, the boy gobbling down chicken like he’s just experienced a famine.
“Just how long have you not had a proper meal, Abs?”
“[’Dunno.]” Jimin’s words were muffled by a mouthful of succulent chicken, “Lost track.” Glimpsing at the disapproving look on Taehyung’s face, he stuffs his mouth full, conveniently avoiding Taehyung’s ’s eye. The next few minutes pass by in silence, aside from the sounds of Jimin’s chewing.
“Don’t choke.” Taehyung tosses a can of Dr Pepper to Jimin. “It’s a sad way to go.” He snaps open his soda, taking a large swig, smacking his lips in satisfaction. Jimin clutches the can with both hands, sipping the frothy liquid slowly, savouring the fizzy taste that burns down his throat. A twinge of energy seeps back into his bones, the spike of sugar raising his energy level slightly.
With their feet dangling off the branch, Taehyung swings his legs thoughtfully, his eyes straying to Jimin’s glum face. He taps a finger against the side of his can to an imaginary tune, mulling over a half-formed notion.
“Hey, Chim Chim,” Taehyung suddenly says. “Check this out!”
Pinching his nose, he tips the rest of his soda into his mouth, guzzling down the rest of the Dr. Pepper in one draught. Jimin goggles at him, mouth ajar. The moment Taehyung drains it to the last drop, a shudder goes through his body, the fizziness going up his nose making him gasp. Tears spring to his eyes, and he grimaces at the gas bubbles in his stomach, covering his mouth too late as a large belch rings out into the night.
“…Sorry.” Scorching heat rises up Taehyung’s neck to his face, the boy turning a shade befitting his hair. Shit, that wasn’t supposed to happen. All he wants to do is cheer Jimin up, not make himself look like a total lunatic. Now he’s blew it, throwing his God-given opportunity right in Fate’s face.
Taehyung is highly considering jumping out of the tree and running away when he picks up a tiny hiccup from the boy next to him. Then the small snickers build up into chortles, Jimin finally cracking up for the first time in weeks. His eyes crinkle into half moons, disappearing beneath a gummy smile, revealing a perfect row of pearly white teeth. There’s that signature closed-eye smile, long buried beneath a tight-lipped grimace that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Soon Jimin’s practically roaring with laugher, his contagious giggles striking a chord in Taehyung’s heart, a strange sensation taking root within him.
Hearing his contagious chortles, Taehyung becomes infected; his own laughter mingles with Jimin’s, their voices resounding gaily in the atmosphere, both boys relaxing instantly. Shaking with the force of his laughter, Jimin almost falls out of the tree, but Taehyung grips the hysterical boy’s shoulder just in time, steadying him.
“You’re crazy, Taehyung!” Jimin titters. “Absolutely crazy!”
“Hey,” Taehyung waggles a finger, smiling broadly. “If crazy equals genius, I’ll be a total rocket scientist, okay?”
Jimin nearly loses his balance again at this, feeling like someone took his spark of wonder and poured on kerosene. “Did you seriously just quote Panic! At the Disco?”
As the night wears on, Taehyung and Jimin strike up a hearty conversation, breezing through a range of various topics. Losing all sense of time, Jimin finds himself unintentionally leaning towards Taehyung, his deep undertone sounding deliciously near his ear. Their thighs are touching, shoulder bumping against shoulder, the strong scent of strawberry overpowering Jimin’s senses, a calming tonic that banishes his weariness. The crispness of the night makes him draw closer to Taehyung’s body heat, their hands resting next to each other on the branch yet unjoining.
As Jimin chuckles gently at one of Taehyung’s appalling puns, Taehyung can’t help but be mesmerized by that tinkling giggle. How he would love to have that beautiful sound on repeat.
“You know, I missed your laughter, Chim Chim.”
Jimin’s beam falters, his face darkening faster than a freak storm. Taehyung instantaneously regrets opening his damn mouth as grimness overtakes Jimin’s features, much to his dismay.
“There isn’t anything worth laughing about lately.”
Jimin stares blankly into space, his eyes clouding over with doubt. In a split second, he seems to have aged. His forehead is creased with stress, appearance haggard with fatigue, mouth pulled into a harsh line. Taehyung feels as if his heart has been grazed with the blade of a knife, seeing Jimin’s depressed state.
The air fizzes with tension, rising ever higher to the point that it’s almost suffocating. The fallen leaves, which the trees used to bear proudly like fiery jewels, now lay askew on the ground, shrivelled and lifeless like Jimin’s spirits. Said boy exhales shakily, the can in his hand becoming crushed from his increasing grip.
“But there’s the showcase, right?” Taehyung says lamely, in an attempt to turn Jimin’ frown upside down. “I mean, I’m sure you’re going to ace it—”
“THAT’S THE THING!” Jimin wails suddenly. Taehyung freezes mid-speech. “I’m going to fuck up the entire showcase! We’re all going to flunk because of me!”
On a roll right now, everything that Jimin has carefully sealed away bursts its banks, spilling out of his mouth like a flash flood. His voice quavers with frustration, clearly choked with emotion.
“I don’t know. My performance is just plain crap. I can’t get the timing right!” He tears at his hair in agitation. “Everyone keeps asking me what the hell I’m doing, and I DON’T FUCKING KNOW! No matter how much I practice, I just get worse!” Jimin shakes his head helplessly, eyes blinking rapidly to hold back the tears threatening to spill out. He sniffles miserably, repressing the urge to cry.
“I’m a pathetic excuse for a dancer—”
Taehyung, unable to stay silent any longer, cuts Jimin off brusquely at this point. “You’re damn near perfect, Park Jimin.”
Although uttered quietly, every single syllable imprints a mark upon Jimin's soul. Each word is like hot chocolate, leaving a warm and fuzzy feeling in Jimin's chest, spreading steadily throughout his tired body. A blush automatically creeps onto his face.
Instantly realizing what he’d blurted out, the tips of Taehyung’s ears turn red, pupils dilating as he waves a hand weakly.
“I-In my opinion, of course,” he adds hurriedly, shyness suddenly catching up with him as he looks obliquely at anywhere besides Jimin’s face.
“Stop exaggerating, Tae,” Jimin murmurs, twiddling his thumbs self-consciously. The heat in his cheeks grows.
“But I’m serious,” Taehyung insists soundly. “You just burn with so much passion. So bright that you outshine everyone else.”
“Is this you trying to be poetic or romantic?” Jimin cocks his head to one side, contemplating Taehyung. He looks so incredibly cute that Taehyung can’t help but die a little bit inside. “Because that was dreadful.”
“What I’m trying to say, Park Jimin, is that you’re amazing,” Taehyung answers honestly, “Those bastards in your class don’t even have a fraction of your enthusiasm. And I admire that.”
Jimin blushes cutely at his words, too shy to meet Taehyung’s eyes.
“Not exactly… But you really think so?” Jimin questions timidly, observing the boy next to him. Taehyung’s brilliant hair is phosphorescent against the dark backdrop of the night, like a flaming fire. Jimin swallows down the lump in his throat, beholding the ethereal being before him.
“That’s what everyone thinks,” Taehyung breaths. “It’s just that you refuse to see it.”
Jimin’s cheeks glow with a tinge of pink, his eyes darting to meet Taehyung’s briefly.
“Jesus, it’s not a big deal, you know,” Jimin supplies bashfully. “It’s just that I love what I do. I want to dance for the rest of my life, until my limbs give way. I’ll go on this path, even if I live for just a day.”
Taehyung ponders Jimin’s words, deep in thought. Their breaths rise as visible puffs to join the darkened, clouded night sky, devoid of any heavenly bodies they can wish upon.
“But what if you can’t?” Taehyung murmurs, gaze skywards. “To be able to do what you love.”
When Taehyung sighed, it sounded resigned and helpless, defeated even. A pang of melancholy had manifested itself within Taehyung’s core, Jimin discerning the boy’s dejection right away.
“Everyone has the freedom of choice, Carrot.”
Taehyung gives a hollow laugh.
“Not when money gets involved,” he remarks bitterly. “Everyone always goes for the cold, hard cash, not passion.”
“What makes you think that?” Jimin probes cautiously, troubled by Taehyung’s rueful grin. It’s ugly, knowing that it doesn’t belong on Taehyung’s features, as if someone had forcefully plastered it onto his face.
“Most people think that only by becoming a doctor can you make the big bucks,” the upset boy discloses flatly. “Including my parents, unfortunately.”
Taehyung’s hazel eyes scan the starless night, searching for a faint flicker of light, something that his belief can grasp onto. Seeing that despondent look beyond those hazel windows make Jimin’s heart twist painfully in his chest.
“You mean…” Jimin shifts even closer, saying in a voice barely above a whisper. “You hate majoring in Biology?”
The cellophane wrapper in Taehyung’s fist crinkles deafeningly in the quiet surrounding them. “It’s not as if I hate it…” He drops his gaze and mumbles moodily. “I can do it if I put my heart to it. It’s just that I don’t enjoy it. I feel… empty. There’s no burning desire to actually do it, to become a medic. I don’t even know if I’m taking the right path.”
Jimin shows no intention of interrupting Taehyung, hanging earnestly onto every single word. He makes a move to grasp Taehyung’s palm but hesitates, thinking better of it.
“I just feel lost, you know?” Taehyung crushes the wrapper in his hands, shoulders slumped downheartedly. “Just lost in this complicated world with no way out. I keep having this feeling that I’m making a mistake.”
“Then what do you want to do?” Jimin questions gently, eyes boring right into Taehyung’s soul, trying to fathom the boy’s thoughts. “What feels right?”
“I love animals!” Taehyung exclaims, suddenly sitting straighter as he gushes excitedly. “I always wanted to be a vet, because I just have this connection with them!”
Jimin vaguely recalls the time when Taehyung had snuck a stray puppy into the dorms and hid it in Joshua’s underwear drawer. (Taehyung had to explain the holes in Joshua’s boxers while Jimin slinked away to Yoongi’s place with the little fur ball, only because Jimin had convinced Taehyung that the little thing needed a better home.) There had been many incidents where Taehyung would squat down and converse with a random animal in the zone, whether it be a pigeon or a cat.
“I mean… Animals have feelings like us, so they deserve affection too, right?”
Taehyung sounds so sincere and innocent that Jimin’s insides can’t help but melt into a pool of mush and goo. How can Taehyung’s parents deny their son of such a profound wish, Jimin doesn’t know.
“[Then do what you like, like what you do.]” Jimin’s next words capture Taehyung’s attention. Seeing his uncertain expression, Jimin elaborates.
“Tae, if you want be to a vet, then fuck everyone else. If you haven’t tried to fight for your passion, then you’ll never win the war because you haven’t even fought the battle.”
Both boys exchange gazes, quietly maintaining eye contact, an understanding passing between them.
“You truly believe that?”
Jimin nods mutely, his lips bearing the semblance of a smile, his twinkling eyes hiding beneath his raven bangs. Taehyung can just get lost in them right now, how they swirl with a million pretty shades of hazel, even brighter than the missing stars.
Their conversation fades, the boys steeped in a serene and comfortable silence, merely enjoying each other’s company. The only audible sound is the susurrus of the early morning breeze, stirring the stray leaves on the ground down below. At that moment, they’re tranquil, almost blissfully at peace. The darkness encloses them within a world of their own, time irrelevant in this timeframe.
The sky brightens, slivers of light peppering the horizon. Amidst the crescendoing chirping of birds, a deep violet stains the clouds, and a dab of orange smears across the heavenly canvas. A myriad of pastel colours paint the sky, like an artist’s stroke across a blank canvas, splashing the clouds with endless rays of red and forming a picturesque tapestry.
“Dawn’s breaking,” Jimin remarks softly. Taehyung stretches, yawning widely like a sleepy lion.
“Time to go back.”
taelion
11:53PM
[attached photos and videos]
CONGRATS AGAIN JIMINIE U DID IT [confetti emoji]
chimchim95
11:55PM
IM JUST GLAD ITS OVER FINALLY
[praying emoji] hey thx 4 coming again
all i could hear up there was ur voice [crying laughing emoji]
taelion
11:57PM
u were amazeballs ok
c i knew u nailed it
chimchim95
12:01AM
really
was i decent
taelion
12:03AM
DUDE U SLAYED K
EVERY1 WENT NUTS
THAT SPLIT @ THE END THOUGH HOW
chimchim95
12:05AM
stop omg [blushing emoji]
taelion
12:06AM
we need 2 CELEBRATEEEEEEE jiminie!!!
CELEBRATION!!!
chimchim95
12:07AM
noooooo i wanna sleep tae
tmr k not now xD
taelion
12:09AM
k then... ill eat the beef all by myself
its real yummy
& its getting cold
shame 2 eat it alone
chimchim95
12:10AM
DID U SAY BEEF
GET OVER HERE NOW
damn u tae
taelion
12:11AM
knew u couldnt resist
;)
v. tell me am i wrong (torn in love with you)
Winter has finally rolled around, bringing chillier and wetter days. The sky has become a permanent colour of murky grey, ominous with the prospect of frequent showers. The trees have wept their last golden tears for the passing of the warm season, their denuded forms standing stark against the bitter cold, braving the constant, harsh pelting of rain. The rain-washed pavement’s glossy beneath the dark skies, and puddles ripple with the constant drizzle from above.
But the miserable conditions do nothing to dampen the kindred spirits of the student body. A festive ambience has settled over the campus, anticipation buzzing for the arrival of the Christmas break. However, along with the bleak weather, a disturbing change had come over a particular, fire-haired boy.
The transition had been gradual, yet obvious nonetheless. Jimin had watched helplessly as Taehyung withdrew into himself, bolting his doors to the world. Taehyung’s presence, previously dominating, had now but diminished to a sombre, empty shell of his former fun and cheerful self.
Instead, a broody and alien stranger had taken his place. Uninterested in anything, it was as if Taehyung was treading on the bottom of the sea, everything just washing over him, leaving no impression whatsoever. Communicating with him was like talking to an inanimate object, the boy as unresponsive as a wooden dummy. The more everyone reached out, the more distant he became, shrinking away into the background. Jimin could see the membrane separating Taehyung from him, as if Taehyung existed in a whole different plane.
Figuring that Taehyung needed time to himself to let off steam, everyone gravitated away him, keeping their distance. Although Jimin chose to remain by his side, it seemed pointless. Taehyung gregarious self had gone into hibernation, lost behind the walls that he had put up around himself.
And Taehyung remained cocooned within his own thoughts, until Jimin checks his phone after class one day, only to find seven missed calls from Namjoon and a hauntingly disturbing text from Jeongguk.
goldengullboy
3.08AM
hyung… am i just a pretty face?
The more times Jimin reads it, the more troubled he becomes. But before he can even think of calling Jeongguk, his phone suddenly rings uncontrollably in his hand, the caller ID of Namjoon flashing urgently on his display. Jimin’s just answered the call when the RA’s panic-stricken voice shrieks into his ear.
“Jimin! Where the hell are you!?”
Jimin can barely hear his hyung above the racket in the background, despite the senior bellowing at the top of his voice.
“Get over here!” Namjoon yells from the other end, “Hoseok’s gone completely berserk!”
Jimin frowns. “That’s nothing new. He’s always crazy. Look, I need to talk to Jeongguk—”
“Hoseok’s going to put Taehyung in the infirmary if we don’t stop him! We can’t hold him down!”
Hearing this, Jimin’s blood runs cold, and his grip around his phone slackens. “Hoseok? TAEHYUNG?”
“I don’t know what the fuck’s gone down, but Hoseok’s been shouting about Taehyung forcing Jeongguk out of college or something—”
But Jimin’s already sprinting, trudging through the mud as fast as he can towards the dorms, an ominous feeling stirring inside him as he mentally connects the dots between Jeongguk’s message and what Hoseok might have said. The moment Jimin sets foot into the building, the loud commotion that greets him has dread welling up in his chest.
A crowd had cloistered in the hallway, pure havoc arising from the chaotic situation. Barely restrained by a number of other boys, Hoseok, wild-eyed and raging, proceeds to roar himself hoarse.
“Get down on your fucking knees and apologize, motherfucker! You crossed the goddamn line, Kim Taehyung!”
Hurling a storm of profanities, Hoseok snarls like a ferocious tiger, the angry glint in his eyes enough to murder the motionless Taehyung before him.
No amount of threats prompts a reaction from Taehyung. His face’s meticulously blank, unreadable and devoid of any emotion. Staring straight ahead uncaringly, he’s unfazed by Hoseok’s outburst, his strange calmness extremely unnerving, scary even.
Meanwhile, Namjoon has a hand hooked around Hoseok’s forearm, reframing the incandescent boy from launching himself at Taehyung.
“Jung Hoseok! Calm down—”
“CALM DOWN!?” Hoseok shrieks furiously, “You want me to calm the fuck down after this son of bitch made Jeongguk cry? No, he’s going to get my fist!”
Struggling free of everyone’s grip, Hoseok’s almost upon Taehyung when Jimin dives in between them, blocking the wrathful boy’s path.
“Wait, hyung!” Jimin commands, arms stretched out protectively as a makeshift barrier. “Get a grip!”
“Yeah, on this bastard’s throat!”
It takes the combined effort of Jimin, Namjoon and a few other seniors to stop a scuffling Hoseok and pin him against the wall. Taehyung observes this all unsympathetically, as unmoving as a statue.
“What the hell did—” Jimin’s just about to question Hoseok when the boiling mad senior shouts, pointing an accusing finger at Taehyung in contempt.
“Taehyung told Jeongguk that he doesn’t belong here!” he spits, burning with hatred. “Said Jeongguk doesn't deserve to be where he is! Now Jeongguk wants to leave! All because of what this asshole said! He’s going too far, taking it out on Jeongguk!”
Confusion, agitation and anger wells up inside of Jimin in a jumbled mixture, Jimin horrified of what Taehyung had done to his childhood best friend. Surpassing his limit of tolerance for Taehyung’s antisocial attitude, Jimin can’t hold back his inner frustration any longer, his brashness clouding his better judgement.
“What the fuck are you doing, Taehyung!? You shut yourself up for weeks, and when you finally decide to open your fucking mouth, it’s to hurt Jeongguk? Are you insane? Have you lost your mind?”
Jimin’s searing words hang in the air, ringing in Taehyung’s ears mercilessly. Eyes glazed over, his body goes numb, insides contracting with cold. Face as white as chalk, Taehyung's heart still thumps dully, yet the sound is hollow to him, meaninglessly.
When he finally looks Jimin in the eye, the clear display of surging hurt, outrage and disappointment jerks Jimin to his senses. There’s a growing knot in his stomach as Taehyung turns his back abruptly on them and walks away unblinkingly, his fading footsteps reverberating eerily down the hallway.
Before Jimin can think, his legs are already carrying him forward, pursuing Taehyung’s retreating back. Flinching at the sound of a slamming door down the hallway, it only takes Jimin a heartbeat to reach Taehyung’s room and barge right in.
“Kim Taehyung! I want answers!”
Hearing no response from Taehyung makes Jimin slightly ticked off. “Answer me, won’t you?”
“[Oh, I’m so sorry,]” Sitting on his bed with his back to Jimin, Taehyung’s voice drips with sarcasm. “Sorry for upsetting stupid Hoseok and your precious Jeongguk.”
Jimin fumes, no longer in the mood to humor Taehyung any longer. “Taehyung, I am fucking done with your attitude! What’s your freaking problem? What did Jeongguk ever do to you!?” Furious and befuddled by Taehyung’s nonchalant approach, Jimin seizes him by the shoulder, forcing Taehyung to turn around.
“You fucking look at me when I’m talking to you!” Jimin barks, “Are you even listening, god damn—”
The mountain of negative emotion building inside of Taehyung finally reaches breaking point, rushing out of him like a tsunami, engulfing him completely in a flurry of blind rage. Something snaps inside of him, his anger coming out faster than magma and just as destructive. Wrestling away Jimin’s hand in vexation, Taehyung whips around to glare at Jimin, the threads within him unraveling, his rationality crumbling to fine dust.
“LISTENING!?” His bellow is punctured by the violent slam of a palm on the wall. “You’re the one who never listens, Park Jimin!”
Jimin stumbles backward, flinching at Taehyung’s wrath. Pure rage contorts the furious boy’s facial features, eyes wild like a lunatic. All the feelings that he has kept bottled up for so long implodes, with Jimin in the line of fire. Words burst forth from his mouth, Taehyung launching into a long rant that even he himself is not completely aware of.
“Why are you suddenly all concerned now!?” He vociferates with all his might, eyes bulging with fury. “You pretending that everything is happy, with fucking rainbow and butterflies! You’re so freaking blind; it pisses me off!
Jimin loses the resolve to keep quiet. “What do you mean!? You’re the one that won’t open up. Why are you going around and fucking blaming me now!?”
Their Pandora boxes rupture open, the livid boys hurling a hurricane of harsh insults, sending each word full speed ahead to shatter their souls into a million pieces. Showing no sign of stopping, they grow increasingly louder by the second, both of them at each other’s throats, like savage dogs fighting over dominance.
“Kim Taehyung, I don’t fucking get you at all!” Jimin snaps, “I thought we were freaking mates, but you can’t even tell me anything!”
“Of course you don’t! Because you’re blind as fuck! You don’t even realize what I feel for you!”
The last sentence makes Jimin go numb, his brain going into overdrive, systems failing and his thought processor completely crashing. When his eyes sought out Taehyung’s, he’s stunned by the moisture brimming in those hazel eyes. Focusing all of his anguish into his words, Taehyung yells at Jimin, betrayal and pain evident in his voice.
“Do you not know how much I…” Taehyung chokes, tears blurring his vision. “…think about you? It hurts me so much that I could die!”
Jimin’s pupils dilate, his mouth slightly ajar, mind freezing up and going blank. Detached from his body, which has gone rigid with shock, Jimin’s only aware of the violent pounding of his heart and the ringing silence around them.
Breathing heavily, Taehyung catches his breath. Angry tears roll freely down his face, dripping onto the floor. Trembling uncontrollably, he lowers his head stiffly, staring down at his shaking hands.
“Park Jimin...” he croaks, “...why are you doing this to me?”
Head bowed, Jimin’s fringe hangs in his hooded eyes, concealing the expression on his face. Lips pursed tightly into a harsh line, something peculiar stirs inside of Jimin, struggling to free itself from the bonds of his heart.
“Jimin, I—”
On the spur of the moment, Jimin’s body responds all on its own, as if he’s no longer in control of it. Plunging forwards into the unknown, Jimin’s mouth crashes into Taehyung’s in a messy kiss, lips colliding roughly. Taehyung’s paralyzed, eyes nearly popping out of his sockets. His breath hitches as soon as they make contact, nearly knocking all the wind from his lungs.
Exhilarant tremors travel down their spines, their minds overloading with a gushing stream of sensational information, and Taehyung's brain goes blissfully blank. The world spins. Jimin feels like he’s in the vortex of a whirlpool, swept along ever faster, dizzy with confusion and burning desire with Taehyung’s chapped lips pressed against his. He’s drowning, breathless from the amazing rush.
Suddenly, Taehyung shoves Jimin hard, as if he’s been burned, breaking the contact between them heartlessly. Staggering back before falling onto the freezing floor, Jimin lands on his behind, temporarily disorientated. His bite-swollen lips are already growing cold, being forced away from Taehyung’s warm ones, and hurt pools in his eyes. A bolt of pain shoots through him, physically and mentally, leaving his heart aching.
Taehyung’s shaking his head, sniffing loudly. A hand obscures the expression on his face, his breath coming out in harsh pants.
“Get. Out,” he spits bitterly, emphasizing each jagged word painfully slowly. His emotions are unstable, teetering on the edge of his sanity.
“GET OUT!” Stabbing a finger at the door, Taehyung roars, his holler vibrating in Jimin’s ears like a clap of thunder.
Scrambling to his feet, Jimin’s out of the door, down the hall and into his room in record time. Leaning against the door, he sinks to the stone cold floor, burying his face in his hands. Tears prickle at his eyelids, his heart raw and bleeding from Taehyung’s merciless outburst. All he knows is the gash in his soul, the unbearable pain that blasts him into smithereens, breaking him.
His mouth buckles, racking sobs starting to plague him. Tears spill uncontrollably down his face, salty droplets dripping down his chin. His cries rips through his muscles, his bones, his entire being.
Having taken a road past the point of no return, both boys have come to realize that they’re sinking, their feelings having roots that are too deep.
Everything has fallen to pieces.
chimchim95
11:08PM
tae pls ans me
[Message delivery failed]
i miss ur lame jokes
chimchim95
12:00AM
hey
happy birthday.
taelion
3:08AM
thx.
chimchim95
[Message delivery failed]
tae i know i fucked up pls talk 2 me
taelion
[Message delivery failed]
jimin im sorry but i dunno anymore
“Jimin, honey?” The voice seems to drift from a far off place, distant and static-like, much like a radio with a weak signal. “Did you hear me? To pick up Jeongguk?”
A gentle tap on Jimin’s shoulder startles him, making the distracted boy jump. Turning his head, he forces his wandering mind to focus on the middle-aged woman next to him.
“Huh?” Jimin mumbles vaguely, momentarily disorientated. “What about cookies?”
Jimin’s mother surveys the various items and clutter strewn across the floor, the messy room reflecting her son’s thoughts. Panic! At The Disco’s “Impossible Year” has been on loop, the depressing lyrics playing morosely through the speakers on Jimin’s phone, like some funeral hymn.
“There’s no sunshine… This impossible year…”
Forehead creased in worry, she guides Jimin to his bed, her mouth pursing worriedly. Mother and child sitting on the duvet, she pushes aside an empty bag before turning down the music.
“You haven’t been yourself this Christmas, Jimin,” she says softly, face expressing a mother’s worry and concern. “What… or who has been on your mind?”
JImin fists his duvet guiltily, avoiding his mother’s eyes. “Ma, I told you it’s nothing—”
“Is it that boy, Taehyung?”
Jimin’s eyes, which were glazed over from before, suddenly become wide and alert. His stomach turns over, and he splutters frantically, cheeks turning warm.
“H-How—”
“You’ve been talking in your sleep, honey.”
Jimin stares blankly at his mother, at a loss as to what to say.
“Well…” she notes, “You do sound very fond of him. There’s always this look in your eyes when anyone brings up that name.”
Instead of the usual, quirky replies and cheeky retorts, Jimin retains his silence, his head preoccupied with a jumble of confused thoughts and feelings, teeming at the seams.
“Jimin, you know your father and I are your biggest supporters, regardless of what you choose,” Jimin’s mother says, “And you can be truthful with us about everything, including your…” She drifts off and muses. “Although your father might take some convincing.”
Jimin’s mother wraps a hand around her son and pulls him close, gently rubbing his arm. Jimin, enveloped in her embrace, bathes in her warmth and the smell of freshly laundered clothes. He just can’t get enough of his mother’s hugs.
“I never felt this way before, Ma…” Jimin mumbles into her shoulder, his body melting into his mom’s, every muscle losing tension. “… Am I becoming an adult?”
“Perhaps.” She squeezes a fraction tighter, kissing the top of his head before she lets go. “People change all the time, Jimin. Including you. You’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.”
She’s treading carefully towards the door when she pauses. “I don’t know what happened between you and him, Jimin, but…” She gives a small smile, “I’d love to meet Taehyung. He sounds like a wonderful boy. Do bring him over sometime, okay?”
Hearing her footsteps fade away, Jimin mulls over his own thoughts, twisting the quilt in his hands. Lately, there’s been a hole in his heart that nothing seems to fill, gaping wide and empty. A never ending dark void consumes everything, with his thoughts on one boy alone.
Jimin’s hand unconsciously moves to his lips, the memory of Taehyung’s rough yet warm lips fresh in his mind, his skin remembering the pressure of the boy’s mouth on his.
A flood of memories hits him with brute force, whizzing through his mind’s eye in brilliant color and intensity, leaving Jimin breathless. For a while, Jimin sits still, immersed in his recollections, his thoughts spinning without design or logic, a crazy muddle that eventually comes together to form a single name.
Then Jimin’s emerging from the wild whirlpool of his head, mind clearer than it has been for a while.
sunshinehope
9:04PM
tae xplained himself & apologized
kookie forgave him
me 2 cuz we are always bros
didnt know tae was going through so much shit
but he & chimchim havent talked for weeks
no 1 knows what went down
killergloss
9:58PM
thats it
u, kook
& that alpaca
r gonna help me hatch my master plan
sunshinehope
10:01PM
u sound like u want us 2 rob a bank with u
*Notification: killergloss added you to stupid cupids*
what shit is this hyung
killergloss
10:27PM
my masterplan u asswipe
u young ppl with ur ragin hormones
yet lackin in fuckin brainmass & balls
obviously those 2 lovesick assholes need ma holy fuckin hand
2 intervene in their puny affairs of the heart
cuz if we dun do shit theyll never grow balls 2 profess their fuckin undyin luv
sunshinehope
10:29PM
wow hyung chill are u high on weed
or did u drink 2 much again
cuz thats like the longest string of words u ever typed in all these years i known u
killergloss
10:31PM
shut ur yap smartass
just get yo ass onto that group
sunshinehope
10:32PM
AWWWW HYUNG U DO HAVE A HEART AFTER ALL
[multiple heart emojis]
killergloss
10:33PM
i will fuckin end u
horse
sunshinehope
10:35PM
aww hyung thats mean [crying emoji]
dun worry i still luv u xoxo
killergloss
10:37PM
[middle finger emoji]
stick 2 ur kookie diet
hobie
vi. i feel so far away (you always come my way)
Taehyung cards a hand through his blond hair, scrolling through the photos in his Recently Deleted folder on his phone. Each moment, relived countless times, are like a bruise on his heart. It throbbed painfully before. Overtime, it has receded to a dull ache, yet it’s there in the background nonetheless.
Almost every picture that has Taehyung in it contains a trace of Jimin too, ebony bangs sweeping flawlessly into twinkling eyes, plump lips parted in a charming smile. A nostalgic feeling washes over Taehyung, and he exhales loudly, trying to loosen the knot in his chest. His heart hurts, wrenched tightly in the grasp of Taehyung’s own twisted labyrinth of emotions.
No more indulging in guilty pleasures.
Selecting all of the content in the folder, he taps the “Delete” button. But when the “Delete Forever” option pops up, he finds himself hesitating. His finger hovers over the screen, unable to make the choice that will strike Jimin off his heart forever.
Taehyung can still recall Jimin’s moist, soft lips moulding into his, as if they’re meant for him alone. He can recall how their breaths had mingled together, how hot Jimin’s body felt pressed against his—
A sharp rap on the door startles Taehyung, causing him to stuff his phone hastily under his pillow. Presently, he wearily greets his unexpected visitors standing in the doorway.
“Yoongi-hyung, Seokjin-hyung! What’s rolling—” But then Taehyung gives a yelp as Seokjin nearly pushes him off the bed.
“You’re rolling,” the pink haired man declares. “Out of that bed and out the door.”
“Get your lazy fucking ass out of this moth hole,” Yoongi jerks his head towards the window. “Before I start growing myself a beard.”
Taehyung is confused by Yoongi’s sudden change of attitude (the fact that Yoongi’s even awake at this time is a historical and rare occurrence, only happening once every few years), face washed with bewilderment.
“Go where?”
Yoongi clicks his tongue in annoyance. “To blow bubbles, and frolic in the sunshine, dumb fuck.”
Taehyung’s jaw hangs slack, mind-boggled by this strange version of his usually grumpy hyung (since when does Min Yoongi do sappy stuff like frolicking and chasing butterflies?). He’s just running through the possibilities (maybe the real Yoongi has been kidnapped by aliens, or he’s possessed) when Seokjin and Yoongi disappear around the corner.
“Hurry up. I can feel that beard growing.”
“Come on Tae, before the weather decides to screw itself.”
The blank expression on Taehyung’s face disappears, replaced by child-like euphoria. Pushing his gloomy thoughts into a distant corner, he practically rolls out of bed, running to catch up with his seniors. With a bounce in his step, he whistles along to an anonymous tune, braving a smile and trying not to think about a certain boy with the most angelic smile.
"For the love of Christ, hyung, stop fidgeting!" Jeongguk complains, his head emerging from behind a sheet of drawing paper, sketching pencil in hand. "I can't get the angle right."
Jimin exhales loudly and juts out his bottom lip, redirecting the airflow to his bangs. For that brief moment, his sterling grey hair (Yoongi had promptly screamed “COPYRIGHT”) fans upwards before resettling over his eyes. Shoulders and neck stiff from the lack of movement, he shifts slightly from his uncomfortable pose, scowling in annoyance.
"Then remind me why the fuck I have to be your fucking model,” he grumbles out of the corner of his mouth, looking thunderous. “When you could have just asked your fuckboy of a boyfriend, Jung motherfucking Hoseok."
Jeongguk frowns hard at his rude upperclassman. "That's a lot of 'fucks' in one go," he muses, squinting at Jimin before ducking behind his paper again, biting his lip to stop the giggle bubbling from his throat.
"That's rich, coming from you," Jimin snarks, which earns him a death stare from a flushed Jeongguk and a gale of laughter from absolutely shameless Hoseok, making the maknae vent out his anger on him instead.
"You better stop laughing before you get the homework treatment," Jeongguk glares down at his cackling boyfriend. "I'll slam you on the goddamn table and do you all night long!"
Hoseok looks up at a ranting Jeongguk with a sly smirk, unfazed in the slightest.
"Might as well work hard, Kookie, your drawing really sucks," he drawls lazily. "You must really want the D—"
As his two friends pelt each other with one cheesy pick-up line after the next, Jimin cricks his aching neck, rolling his eyes towards heaven. Someone please spare him the humiliation.
“Is that the best you can do, Jeonggukie!? Do you want me to be my pinkie toe? Then I can bang you on every piece of furniture in my room!”
With a jolt, a face floats up in Jimin’s memory, the boy spacing out again. Jeongguk and Hoseok’s playful banter fading to mere white noise, Jimin’s mind becomes adrift once more, a smile playing on his lips at the memory of atrocious pickup lines and boxed-shaped smiles.
“Seokjin-ah, quit trying to suffocate me with your ridiculous smelling detergent.”
Upon hearing the mention of his hyung’s name, Jimin looks up and spots Seokjin in the distance, flanked by a rather peeved Yoongi. Seokjin’s strolling leisurely along, purposely blowing bubbles into Yoongi’s face, which only succeeds in making the shorter man even grumpier. Jimin’s just about to call out to them when a sandy-haired boy sprints up to Yoongi, clinging onto Yoongi’s arm.
“My turn, hyung! Please, please, please~”
That distinctively deep voice nearly makes Jimin topple backwards in surprise, the boy resisting the urge to rub his eyes. Finally obtaining a bottle of bubble solution, the blond youth bounds across the dry grass like a frisky puppy, avid excitement visible on his face, which bears a very familiar square-shaped grin.
And then the boy’s looking in Jimin’s direction, skidding comically to a stop, the beam on his face wavering.
Feeling like they’ve been struck by lightning, a shock rushes through their bodies, both boys staring fixedly at the other, as if they’ve been possessed. The flow of time slows down to a snail-like pace, moving along sluggishly. Time halts for the pair alone, as if the world’s holding its breath. Their hearts miss a beat, stuttering for a moment before thumping even harder than before in their ears.
Jimin’s the first to look away, quickly settling back into his initial model position. Taehyung in turn ignores Jimin’s presence, paying no heed as he focuses his attention on his hyungs. Despite their nonchalant façade, the same exclamation races through their head, reflecting their hidden panic.
What is he doing here?
Jimin desperately tries to keep his eyes to himself, to keep up his uncaring veneer. Nevertheless, his pupils instinctively flit in the direction of the other group of boys, Jimin surreptitiously gazing at Taehyung from beneath his lashes
Settling cross-legged on the grass, Taehyung dips his bubble stick carefully into the soap solution. Bringing it to his lips, he blows gently, eyelashes fluttering lightly at the movement. A stream of spherical bubbles emerges, glistening with the colours of the rainbow as they catch the faint sunlight.
Taehyung had forgone his wild, fire-coloured hair for a soft shade of bleached blond, his bangs no longer covering his forehead, making him seem all the more fresh-faced. If Taehyung had been roguishly charming in the past, he now has the appearance of an angel, of a being of light descended from the heavens above. Giving off an air of purity, untainted by the sin of the world, Jimin swears he can visualize a golden halo hovering above Taehyung’s head, symbolizing the boy’s innocence. He’s so blindingly and effortlessly handsome; Jimin can’t help but sigh in awe.
Meanwhile, Taehyung’s half-heartedly blowing bubbles, unable to take his eyes off Jimin, watching him silently out of the corner of his vision.
Jimin’s striking silver hair shimmers beneath the bleak rays of the sun, pushed carefully back, a stray strand curling at his forehead. His head’s turned at an angle in a picturesque pose, showing off his sharp jawline. Taehyung can see the small bulge of his Adam’s apple beneath the black turtle neck he’s sporting, which complements his bright hair. Jimin’s like a being out of this world, features opulent and delicate like a faerie’s, yet radiating a strong aura of confidence, so surreally beautiful that it just takes Taehyung’s breath away.
As if enveloped in an invisible membrane, the boys carry on with their individual activities casually, in separate worlds that the other cannot penetrate. Yet they’re painfully aware of the other’s presence, sneaking peeks and occasional glances at each other, trying to be subtle (and of course failing to be so).
But finally, when their eyes meet simultaneously, they find that they can’t tear their gaze away. The bubbles dancing before them failing to distract, they’re powerless to the magnetic-like attraction to the other’s eyes, imprisoning their senses. Temporarily forgetting everything else around them, the duo is transfixed on one another, the whole world suddenly bleeding away into nothing around them.
Only after what feels like sunlit eternity does Jimin and Taehyung break eye contact. A quick glance of their surroundings makes them realise that, somehow, their friends had disappeared, evaporating into thin air.
Flustered, Jimin tries to gather his thoughts. An awkward ambience settles around them, cold sweat slick on their palms. Scratching behind his ears, Taehyung looks from Jimin to the long forgotten bubble stick in his hand, licking his lips, which have suddenly gone as dry as Yoongi’s humor.
“…Want to blow bubbles with me?”
Jimin blinks. “Uh… Sure.”
“You’re trying too hard, Jimin,” Taehyung offers, watching in amusement as Jimin splutters, the other boy only succeeding in blowing spit. Face red from the effort, Jimin huffs in pique, arching an eyebrow quizzically at Taehyung. His breath comes out in little puffs of smoke.
Shaking his head with a small smile, Taehyung demonstrates. A flurry of bubbles escapes into the atmosphere.
“Do it softly,” Taehyung supplies. “No energy required. Just feel it.”
Jimin inhales deeply, and with a sigh, he blows effortlessly. His eyelashes flutter as bubbles swirl around them, floating gently away in the breeze. Jimin breaks into a wide beam, and Taehyung returns it, lip curled upwards slightly.
“You can’t force everything, no matter how much you want it.”
Eyes wistful, Taehyung reaches towards a soapy, glistening bubble. It pops upon contact, bursting into a million water droplets.
The colourful spheres rise upwards into the sky, swept away by the winter wind, eventually gone without leaving a trace.
“Sorry, Taehyung.” Jimin rakes a hand through his light hair. “Me and my freaking butter fingers.”
“It’s cool, don’t sweat ‘bout it.” Taehyung waves away Jimin’s apology, examining his soaked shirt. “It’s just soap. It’ll wash off, no prob’.”
The moment Taehyung and Jimin enter the room, Joshua, engrossed in a show, sits up from his lounging position.
“Oh.” Shutting his laptop abruptly, Joshua rolls out of bed and tucks it swiftly under his arm. Then with an almost undetectable wink at Taehyung, he dials a number on his phone before bringing the door behind him.
“Jisoo, what about that Descendants of the Sun marathon?”
As Joshua’s voice fades away, Jimin’s forehead puckers in a frown. “When did he started getting cosy with Kim Jisoo?”
Taehyung shrugs before opening his closet. “Make yourself comfortable. Don’t be shy,” he says over his shoulder, searching for a clean shirt. Jimin flops down onto Taehyung’s bed, lying spread-eagled across the sheets.
“Ah, okay.” He props his head up with a pillow, following Taehyung’s progress around the room with his eyes. “I’ll just wait here then.”
Stopping before the body length mirror, Taehyung proceeds to remove his stained shirt, slowly revealing the bare skin underneath. Jimin’s eyes widen, his mouth abruptly going dry, cheeks heating pink. Glued to the sight before him, Jimin takes in every single detail of the boy’s upper torso, thinking he should go to hell for witnessing such a sinful sight. Taehyung’s stomach is flat, the skin smooth and pale and surprisingly soft-looking, with a hint of a happy trail leading down into the hem of his pants that makes Jimin’s mouth water and his hands tingle with the urge to reach out and touch, just to see if it really is as perfect as it looks.
Standing in front of the mirror shirtless, Taehyung rakes a hand through his blond strands, his sigh a deep rumble that makes Jimin’s stomach swoop. Catching Jimin staring mutely at him in him through the mirror’s reflection, his thin lips curl into a gloating smirk.
“This feels very familiar.”
Jimin burns bright scarlet, immediately dropping his gaze. Embarrassment mixed into the complicated cocktail of emotions within him, the flushed-faced boy mumbles lamely, prompting a chortle from Taehyung.
Flipping his body, Jimin buries his scalding face into the pillow, refusing to emerge. Slipping a woolly jumper over his head, Taehyung whacks Jimin’s ass good-naturedly.
“Move over. Stop hogging the bed.” The mattress dips beneath Taehyung’s weight as he crawls over to Jimin, nudging his friend lightly. “Make space for me.”
After some budging and fidgeting around, eventually both boys lay sprawled across the sheets, brushing shoulders as they gaze up at the ceiling. The close proximity makes their hearts thump uncomfortably in their chests, the warmth of the other boy next to them giving them goose bumps.
A few minutes pass before Taehyung breaks the silence.
“So… How’s things?”
“Nothing much. You?”
“Fine, I guess. Pretty boring. Not going back for New Year. Tickets cause a bomb.”
Jimin glances at Taehyung briefly, but Taehyung’s expression remains unreadable. “Don’t tell me you stayed back to study.” Jimin pulls a face. “Please don’t nerd out on me.”
“No way,” Taehyung replies. “Got a job. Pet store down the street. Pay’s decent, and hours are okay.”
Saying all of this with a blank face, Taehyung however doesn’t elaborate further. For a while, only their breathing is audible; their chests rise up and down rhythmically.
“… You look good with that hair,” Jimin remarks quietly after some time. “It suits you.”
“Really?” Taehyung answers in mild surprise. “Thought it was time for some change.”
A slight pause.
“You too,” Taehyung says softly. “That hair colour fits you well too.”
Their vague conversation fades away, the stillness that follows even more overwhelming than before. The internal turmoil inside Taehyung and Jimin churns within them, the pair struggling to express the single thought that has been on the tip of their tongues.
“Taehyung, I’m—”
“Jimin, I’m really—”
Both boys turning to face the other at the same time, they blurt out simultaneously. “—sorry.”
It takes a split second for the words to register in their minds before they react. A pucker forms between Taehyung’s eyebrows.
“Why are you apologizing when it was my fault—”
“But I shouldn’t have gone and done something dumb—”
Sitting upright, they search each other’s eyes, etching every single feature of the other’s face into memory. Presently, Taehyung exhales loudly, pulling at his hair.
“No, I screwed up,” Taehyung affirms. “I’m sorry. I was going through a truckload of bullshit last year. I shouldn’t have taken it out on Jeongguk or you or anyone else. Even though Jeongguk’s forgiven me, I can’t forgive myself for the mean things I said to him.” His hands hang limply over his knees, doleful eyes downcast.
“Hey,” Jimin shifts closer, his hand accidentally brushing against Taehyung’s. Feeling sparks of static leaping across his skin where Jimin had touched him, Taehyung’s heart does cartwheels.
“I should have lent you an ear when you needed it most.” Jimin keeps his eyes on Taehyung, gaze soft and tone as gentle as the breeze. “But I’m ready to listen now. Please, don’t try to be some hero and deal with it all by yourself.”
Taehyung lets out a shaky breath, clenching and unclenching his hands in his lap. Then, his arms retract into the sleeves of his jumper, giving him sweater paws. Jimin, in the back of his mind vaguely registers how much he wants to cuddle him, like a great big teddy bear.
Keeping his attention on his knees, Taehyung steels himself. “I had a row with my parents about wanting to be a vet. We fought for a long time. They obviously don’t support me.”
Massaging his temples tiredly, Taehyung goes on, voice cracking in the process due to emotion. “They told me I could do the fuck I want, but they’re not funding me. I only got this semester, then I’m on my own.”
Jimin arm twitches towards Taehyung for a split second, as if he’s going to pull Taehyung into his embrace. However, at the last second he decides against it, withdrawing his hand, leaving it to rest next to Taehyung’s on the sheets.
“Is that why you didn’t go back?” he asks softly.
Taehyung nods stoically. “Hopefully I’ll get by, but I don’t know about the money for senior year. Even if I work my ass off for the next freaking 365 days, it won’t be enough.”
Jimin chews on the inside of his cheek, toying with a half-formed idea in his mind. “…Do you think if I worked too, would the money be enough?”
Taehyung’s head snaps up, looking at him as if Jimin has lost his marbles. “Are you mental!?” he exclaims. “You think working is something fun? It’s complete shit. I would rather study twenty-four-seven than go to work.”
“It’s worth a shot,” Jimin confirms. “And if all else fails, we’ll think of something.”
Silence. Taehyung’s resolve hardens.
“Listen, Jimin,” he states gravely, a distant look in his eyes. “I’m not forcing you into anything, so you don’t have to act nice.”
“Jesus Christ!” Jimin huffs, “Will you stop pulling the ‘I Am a Fucking Hero’ card? Quit talking like you have to deal with everything yourself!”
The blond’s body pivots away. “If you’re doing this out of pity, Park Jimin, you might as well stop. You shouldn’t be giving me false hope.”
Jimin pounds a fist on the bed irritably and shakes his head in disbelief, finally unable to hold back the surge of emotion within him. “You freaking ass hat! How the hell did I ever end up lov—”
Suddenly conscious of what he‘d blabbed out, Jimin stops mid-sentence like a paused audio tape. Clapping a hand to his open mouth, he can feel the colour rising in his cheeks, his whole being consumed in flames.
Taehyung’s jaw drops right open, stunned into a stupor as he stares at the beet red boy before him. He’s temporarily forgotten how to breathe, his heart swelling so much that it might just burst into a million little specks of light.
A small, muffled voice escapes from behind Jimin’s covered mouth. “F-Forget the fuck I just said.”
Taehyung chuckles deeply, and Jimin’s heart starts doing somersaults. “I don’t think I can… Ever.”
The way Taehyung’s lips quirk in that annoyingly hot smirk and the intensity of his gaze only succeeds in making Jimin even more flustered than he already is.
“Shut up, Tae, I mean—I don’t know—what the fuck I’m feeling for you,” Jimin yammers, stuttering foolishly in an attempt to justify himself. “It’s confusing, you know, whether I’m straight or bi or just gay—”
But whatever Jimin intends to say next is interrupted by the hand covering his mouth, Taehyung’s face mere inches from his. Jimin’s insides have already gone through a whole routine of gymnastics, his stomach turning unhelpfully. The words on the tip of his tongue vanish into thin air, Jimin blushing so deeply that he looks like he’s got a bad sunburn. Taehyung can practically feel the searing heat he’s emitting, like a million watt light bulb.
Removing his palm reluctantly from Jimin’s lips (god, how much Taehyung wants to just kiss him right now), Taehyung leans back into a more comfortable position, lost in thought. Both boys wordlessly search the other’s face, trying to figure out the other’s thoughts. Jimin nibbles on his plump bottom lip, wedging it between his teeth. Taehyung’s tongue darts out to wet his chapped lips, Jimin’s eyes unintentionally straying to the boy’s mouth.
Taehyung takes a sharp intake of breath. “You know… that night when I first saw you, standing there half naked—” Jimin’s just about to retaliate loudly but Taehyung ploughs on. “You looked like someone I could have fun with,” he muses. “But after spending more time with you… I realized that you’re so much more than that hot body of yours.”
Taehyung’s giving Jimin goddamn cliché butterflies, fluttering so much that it feels queasy. The blond picks at a ball of lint on his jumper awkwardly, fighting to hide the rising colour to his cheeks.
“I’ve never been in a relationship before,” he mutters, Jimin’s eyebrow arching in surprise. “And I didn’t know how to talk to you. So yeah, bad pickup lines. But, I kinda made an idiot of myself.”
Locking eyes with a speechless Jimin, Taehyung’s speaks slowly. “Because I uh—Like you a lot. Really. In… that way.”
The words are out of Jimin’s mouth, even before he can stop himself. “Me too, Tae. I—definitely like you, more than a friend. More than a best friend.”
Taehyung feels like his body has become a combination of jelly and fire, all gooey and burning. He drinks in Jimin’s words like a strong wine, a tipsy sensation making more ridiculous words tumble out of him.
“Then, will you go out with me for real, Park Jimin?”
At a loss for words, Jimin’s pupils dilate, unable to make a sound as he stares mutely at Taehyung. Seeing no reaction from Jimin, Taehyung grows embarrassed, his face going as red as beetroot and radiating heat like a hot pan.
“I mean, em, if you’re okay,” he backtracks quickly, stumbling over his words stupidly. “’Cause we can always try, this, uh—dating thingy, right? B-but, if you don’t want to—”
Now it’s Taehyung turn to be shushed, Jimin holding a finger to Taehyung’s thin lips. Taehyung’s mouth clicks shut voluntarily, his garbling ceasing. Then, almost imperceptibly, Jimin gives a small nod, a smile tugging at his lips.
It’s as if the world has come into sharper focus, everything around Taehyung taking on a more vibrant colour. Jimin’s soul brimming with indescribable joy, a beam steadily spreading across his face and his eyes brightening in euphoria.
“Really?” he asks excitedly, happiness passing through him like a warm ocean wave, leaving a tingling in his entire being.
Jimin nods once again, a gentle flush of pink growing in his cheeks. Taehyung, finally bridging the gap between them, takes Jimin’s hand in his tenderly, entwining their fingers. The spaces between their fingers fit the other’s perfectly, as if they were made for them alone.
Jimin’s lovely in the soft glow of the morning, the rays of sun illuminating his features, the light shimmering prettily off his lashes. Taehyung cannot help but gaze at him, wondering if he had saved the entire planet in his past life to meet such a person like Park Jimin.
Seeing that adorable box-shaped grin that he has unintentionally grown fond of, Jimin brushes his bangs out of his eyes shyly, a goofy smile plastered onto his face, his eyes crinkling into sickles. If he didn’t know he had feelings for this handsome idiot, he sure knows it now.
Without saying a word, Taehyung and Jimin know that slowly and surely, they will figure things out, one way or another.
Because Kim Taehyung will always leave Park Jimin tongue-tied.
Epilogue
chimchim95
8:06AM
MIN YOONGI
U BETTER HOLD ON 2 UR FUCKING PHONE
CUZ IMA THROW IT DOWN THE TOILET
DUN GIVE ME EXCUSES SRLY
THAT WAS NO ACCIDENT U MADE THAT VIDEO GO VIRAL LAST AUGUST
alpacajin
2:07PM
i told u so last august not to make it public
the 'taehyung asking jimin' out public confession
the one that went viral all over college
now its back to bite u
jimin is gonna disembowel ur secret yet not secret stash of kumamon plushies
killergloss
2:38PM
yah if you hadnt bugged me 2 share that video asap
my fat finger wouldnt have conveniently slipped
& the bastard that even lays a finger on my kumamons
will have the words ‘MURDERED BY MIN YOONGI’ etched across his tombstone
alpacajin
2:45PM
so ur blaming ur finger as well as me now
u suck at using snapchat yoongi
killergloss
3:01PM
well those 2 idiots wouldnt be 2gether if not for my incredible fat finger
wouldnt they
what can i say
im a min fuckin genius
alpacajin
3:04PM
…
3:10PM
……
3:21PM
gudnight
killergloss
3:34PM
yah its like fuckin 3 in the afternoon u nut
& im not finished with u kim seokjin
< chimchim95 added sunshinehope and goldengullboy to U MOTHERFUCKERS I KNOW WHAT U DID BACK IN AUGUST>
chimchim95
2:11PM
JUNG HOSEOK
JEON JEONGGUK
U GUYS HAVE SOME FUCKING XPLAINING 2 DO!!!
goldengullboy
2:13PM
...oh shoot
the scarves made it too fucking obvious
we’re screwed
sunshinehope
2:15PM
i can xplain???
< blacklight added chimchim95 and taelion to We Are Fucking Gay Club: Korean Branch>
chimchim95
9:07PM
DO WE HAVE TO BE IN THIS GOD DAMN CHAT
taelion
9:09PM
well we are official abs ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
chimchim95
9:10PM
why the lenny face
im still not used to this
its weird
saying we are...
official
blacklight
9:15PM
WE ALL SAW IT COMING
RIGHT GUYS???
wangpuppy
9:24PM
so god damn obvious srly
happyvirus
10:02PM
YESSSSSS
U ALL O ME 20 BUCKS
I WIN
SHOW ME DA MONEY LOSERS
runchranda
10:11PM
how would i know they would take this long
like i predicted sooner than this but no
damn u chanyeol
ಥ_ಥ
sunshinehope
10:37PM
hey channie
i thought that they had to screw b4 declaring a winner
so we still have to pay??? O_o
chimchim95
11:03PM
WTF
WERE U GUYS BETTING ON THIS???
Im leaving
taelion
11:05PM
noooo
dun leave me jiminie ;(
chimchim95
11:06PM
wth u mean carrot top
ur legit just lying right next 2 me
goldengullboy
11:10PM
WAIT WHAT
ARE U GUYS
DOING IT???
◉_◉
chimchim95
11:12PM
WHAT NOOOOOOO
WE’RE NOT
we’re just hanging at my place
taelion
11:14PM
yep watching zootopia again
never gets old
a vets dream
[attached photo]
wangpuppy
11:20PM
awwww couple selca
cute :3
but why carrot top hes blond now
sunshinehope
11:23PM
CHIM CHIM
ARE U CUDDLING TAE
AWWWWWWWWWW
chimchim95
11:25PM
tae’s like a teddy ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
& hes always carrot top
taelion
11:27PM
haha ur adorbs abs [multiple heart emojis]
chimchim95
11:28PM
[heart emoji]
blacklight
11:31PM
ew u guys are being so mushy
get a room
taelion
11:33PM
we did [heart emoji]
chimchim95
11:34PM
yep ;)