Chapter Text
“Excuse me—” A woman popped her head into the room. “Five minutes. A producer will come and collect you both in two.” She was gone the moment her last word finished, the door clicking softly behind her.
Jungkook sat on the couch, hands rubbing his knees furiously, hearing Jimin shift in his chair in front of the lit-up mirror. “Darling,” he sighed, Jungkook’s eyes flicking up to see he had a makeup brush held between his fingers. “If you’re thinking of getting cold feet, it’s a bit late now.”
“I’m not,” he muttered, pushing hands through his hair.
“Good. You look too good to back out, and you’ll make me look bad.”
Jungkook rolled his eyes, rising off the couch and striding over to the older man. Jimin looked up at him, the black, silk shirt he wore unbuttoned so much it was dangerously close to sliding off his shoulder, and he giggled when Jungkook leaned down to peck his lips. “Look pretty.”
Jimin raised an eyebrow. “I look like a whore.”
“That’s my favorite look.”
“Say less, then. I’ll add more black,” Jimin said, playfully swatting at Jungkook with the brush.
Truth be told, he looked amazing. They both had forgone suits, settling for options that were more their taste, but Jimin looked downright sinful in all black. Shining jeans hugged his legs, his shirt tucked in and undone buttons revealing his collarbones, silver jewelry and dark eyes. Jungkook looked—normal in comparison, lighter jeans with holes in the knees, black t-shirt, open black-and-white flannel, and a leather jacket thrown over top. It was definitely clear who was the prettier one in the relationship, and Jungkook couldn’t help but agree.
Jimin set the brush down and picked up his phone. “Tae sends his love.” Jungkook snickered, remembering how the other man had tackled Jimin the moment they’d made it back from Sweden, the two of them colliding and rolling on the floor of Jimin’s apartment, exclamations tossed back and forth. It had been quite a sight, at least until Taehyung had ran for him next, resulting in a massive chase around the apartment as Jungkook tried to escape the wrath of his love.
It was safe to say that the internet had exploded after the Gala performance. Or, more specifically, the way they had kissed at the end. Such a kiss surely hadn’t been planned, but what’s done was done, and Jungkook would have been lying if he said he hadn’t wanted to kiss Jimin on the ice. At least one of them had been bold enough to make the move.
They’d decided to stay off social media, ignore all texts and emails, and keep their mouths shut to the press until they arrived back home. And then it was just a simple email to their collective favorite reporter, requesting an interview—and she’d gotten one better, a live television interview. Jungkook had almost immediately declined, but then he’d seen the sparkle in Jimin’s eye at the idea—and the older had surely made accepting worth his while.
Jungkook found himself smiling at the memory of the two of them, cuddled up together in Jimin’s bed with phones at the ready, almost-identical Tweets ready to fire, giving out the date, time, and channel of the interview. Jimin had added a little ‘Miss you guys!’ tag in his, but Jungkook had left his simple—though, he liked to brag that the fans liked his Tweet better, because he’d included a photo the two of them had taken in a mirror back in Sweden without Jimin knowing, making him whine and say it was unfair. He’d shut up after a few, strategically-placed kisses.
Another knock at the door, and Jimin slid out of his chair as the producer waved for them to follow. Jungkook couldn’t believe that they were doing this, but he assumed it would cause much less backlash and hysteria than just posting about it on social media, or something. Besides, the reporter—her name was Ryujin, apparently—was smart. Knew what to ask, how to make them sound good, and she had a list of unacceptable questions, just in case. It would be fine. At least, that’s what Jungkook kept reminding himself.
Jimin laced their fingers together once they were backstage, the producer holding up a hand for them to wait, and Jungkook gave his hand a squeeze when he heard Ryujin begin to introduce them.
“Good evening, everyone. I’m sure I’m a new face here, though hopefully a pretty one, so I’ll introduce myself. My name is Shin Ryujin, and I have had the pleasure of being personally asked to interview possibly the two biggest names in the world right now, Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook.” She shook her head and laughed, adjusting the plaid blazer she wore over her black outfit. “Not to brag, but I’m definitely bragging. I had the privilege of speaking to Jungkook-ssi one evening months ago, and was then asked to stay behind as one of the four reporters allowed to watch them skate only recently, so I believe I’ve somehow made an impact. I’d say it’s because I’m so good-looking and charming, but I’ve come to believe I—unfortunately—might not be their type.”
From beside him, Jimin laughed loudly. Ryujin caught it, tossing him a glance and a smile, before waving a hand to the side of the stage. The producer began to count them down as she said, “Please welcome figure-skating medalists, Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook.”
The producer waved them on, giving Jungkook only a second to steel himself, and then Jimin was tugging on his hand and leading them out onto the stage. They bowed to the crowd—both huffing a laugh at Taehyung’s frantic wave—before finally breaking apart to shake hands with Ryujin and take a seat on the small couch. She sat back down in her chair as she said, “Thank you so much for coming, both of you.”
“We’ve seen so much of your writing,” Jimin spoke up immediately, well aware that Jungkook couldn’t stop looking at all the lights and cameras. No one was screaming out questions, but he was just waiting for them to all start flashing. “You’re very talented, and seemed to understand that we are humans and figure skaters before a story topic, so who else should we ask to help us break the silence?”
Ryujin made a show of fanning herself. “Such a way with words. You flatter me, I’m so pleased I could shock you with my abilities at being a decent human.” Somewhere in the crowd, Taehyung barked a laugh, making them both smile. Jimin slipped his fingers between Jungkook’s again, and he rubbed circles on the back of the older’s hand. Ryujin didn’t even glance at the cards in her hands. “You know I have to ask—are you two dating?”
Jimin turned to look at him, and just looking him in the eyes made Jungkook smile. “Yes,” Jimin said after a moment. “Yes, we are.”
He squeezed his hand, and Jungkook realized that he was coaxing him to speak. “Uh—yeah. For about a month now.”
“And everyone seems to love it, if the reaction from your fans means anything,” Ryujin said with a smile. “The support after the World Championships was immense, though, I’m sure you both saw.”
“They were all very kind. We were—” Jimin looked at Jungkook. “Nervous, about it all, but we believe we made the right decision. It’s not, well—” He laughed, making Jungkook smile fondly. He loved Jimin’s laugh, the way it so utterly consumed his body. “It’s not all that fun to hide it. Maybe we can actually go on a proper date, now.”
Jungkook separated their hands to reach up and brush Jimin’s cheekbone with his thumb. The audience cooed, making his ears burn, but Jimin practically beamed at the affection. “I’d like that,” he said, and Ryujin mimed fanning herself.
“You two look great together, that’s for sure.” She shuffled her cards a bit, but didn’t bother looking down. “Now, I have to mention the championship. We’ll get to the Gala in a moment, but I must congratulate you on your achievement first. Jungkook-ssi, you were spectacular .”
“Wasn’t he?” Jimin readily agreed, leaning forward in his seat. “He didn’t tell me anything! I tried everything, and not a word!” The audience laughed at his words. The man beside him smiled at the attention, leaning into Jungkook a bit more and resting his hand on Jungkook’s knee.
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Jungkook said honestly. “I knew Jimin would get it, so I wanted to hold off until he could see it along with anyone else. But he’s so persuasive, I almost broke a few times. I swear—I got dance lessons from his best friend, yeah? And thank God Jimin never found out, because he would have known in a heartbeat if he asked him.”
Jimin whirled on him. “You did what? Dance lessons? Dance lessons? You’ve got a contemporary dancer at your fingertips and you went hip-hop?” He knew it was Hoseok then. Jimin let out an incredulous sound, waving a hand in the air. “You can’t do that stuff on the ice!”
“Is that a challenge?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow, pinching Jimin’s side a bit and laughing when he shrieked quietly and squirmed away from the touch.
Ryujin slowly raised a hand as the crowd laughed. “I, for one, would love to see Jungkook-ssi’s dance moves on the ice.”
Jungkook’s eyes widened as the audience roared, applause ringing loud in his ears. “I think—that’s, I mean—maybe at the next Gala?”
“If the fans don’t hold you to that, I will,” Jimin said, raising an eyebrow, but the glint in his eyes proved he wasn’t upset in the slightest.
“And Jimin-ssi,” Ryujin said, moving right along. “You were beautiful. Truly. Your costumes were—” She shook her hands in the air. “I can’t even put it into words. I envy you,” she sighed. “I really do.”
Jimin let out a little giggle. “Ah, don’t blow smoke up my ass.” He gasped, hand clapping over his mouth as his eyes widened and Jungkook fell into a fit of laughter beside him. “I’m sorry! Oh—” He pouted. “I’ve been trying really hard this whole time, I’m sorry.”
Ryujin waved her hand. “We all know you’ve got a bit of a mouth, Jimin-ssi. If anyone was unprepared for a slip-up, they’ve quite obviously never seen you before.” It seemed to settle him a bit, but Jungkook knew his fingers rubbing circles on the older’s back helped as well. “And then the Gala,” she said, moving on from the blunder. “Wow. You two looked amazing, have you been practicing that for a while?”
“Not at all,” Jungkook said with a shake of his head. “Jimin asked me to skate with him the night of our short programs. We practiced the entire day after, and I never would have pulled it off if Jimin wasn’t so good at everything.” Beside him, Jimin smiled happily at the praise, leaning over to peck Jungkook’s jaw.
“Well, it paid off. You two were stunning.”
Jungkook had seen the videos. Yeah, they really had been.
-
“What are we toasting to, again?”
“To Jiminie and Jungkookie!”
“Tae, how many drinks have you had?”
“Jungkook, remind me why I came here? I don’t remember. This is torture.”
“If you don’t shut up, babe, I might choke you.”
“Oh, I bet he likes that.”
“Jimin!”
Jimin fell over in a fit of giggles beside Jungkook. He reached out to pluck the older’s champagne flute from his hand before it spilled everywhere—placing it on a stack of magazines flaunting their relationship that they were using as a coaster—but all it did was give Yoongi the freedom to lunge for him, forcing Hoseok to hold him back. Jimin squealed and threw himself into Jungkook’s lap, screaming for protection and, yeah—maybe they all had drank a bit too much.
But it was the first night back that they weren’t completely jet-lagged, and here they were, sitting on the floor of Jimin’s apartment with empty bottles scattered around them. Taehyung seemed like he was having a blast, messing around with Seokjin and curling into Jimin when he wasn’t clinging onto Jungkook. Hoseok and Yoongi had a bit more of a respectable distance between them, but they’d disappeared for a good fifteen minutes at some point earlier, so it was probably because they were both satisfied, and because Hoseok probably didn’t care about what Namjoon and Yoongi kept discussing.
Jungkook ran his fingers through Jimin’s hair. He looked up, eyes a bit blown and cheeks rosy, and Jungkook could taste the alcohol in his mouth when Jimin pushed up slightly and connected their lips. “You’re pretty,” he murmured.
“Yeah?”
“More so when there’s two of you.”
Jungkook looked over his shoulder, pitching his voice into a terrified whisper. “Is he here? My evil twin? I thought we had more time before he came for us, we need to run.”
Jimin broke into giggles, eyes widening as he feigned fear. “Where shall we go? Where can he not find us?”
“Hm, the bedroom?”
Jungkook laughed when Jimin swatted his chest, still giggling quietly. He fit so nicely in Jungkook’s lap, the two of them curled up with Jungkook’s back to the bottom of the couch. It hurt from sitting on the floor for so long, but he wasn’t going to move for as long as Jimin was with him. So he just shifted a bit, holding tight to Jimin’s small waist, remembering the swaths of golden skin beneath the light sweater he was wearing. Jimin was a walking wet dream, and he was Jungkook’s.
He smiled when Jimin burrowed into him, quite obviously getting tired but not wanting the party to be over just yet, the two of them watching their friends. Taehyung and Seokjin were play-fighting, though Seokjin was at a disadvantage because he refused to let go of Namjoon’s hand, and Hoseok had his head on Yoongi’s shoulder now. They all looked so happy together.
Jungkook looked down at Jimin. If he was trouble, Jungkook thought that maybe—maybe he liked trouble. Or maybe Jimin was just the perfect kind of trouble, the type to fuck up his life in the best way possible. Eyes finding the pole in the corner, he smiled, unable to stop thinking about how Jimin was his boyfriend now, and he could watch him dance whenever he wanted. His boyfriend.
His fingers were delicately placed under Jimin’s chin, tilting it back upwards as Jimin blinked slowly, long lashes brushing his cheeks. He was so gorgeous. His boyfriend. Jungkook gently placed his lips on Jimin’s own, feeling the other man’s breath leave him in a sigh, his body loosening in Jungkook’s arms. It was quiet, soft, because they really did have all the time in the world now, and it didn’t matter who saw. An entire zoo was running rampant in his stomach, as it always was whenever Jimin touched him, but everything seemed to stop when Jimin’s lips were on his.
Jungkook’s hand found the side of Jimin’s face, thumb brushing along his jaw. He wanted this. He wanted this so bad, and it was his now. Jimin was his. And Jungkook knew that, from now on, it would only ever be Jimin, and he just had to let him know, breaking the kiss for a single moment.
“I love you,” he murmured against Jimin’s lips.
Jimin smiled. Tucked a strand of hair behind Jungkook’s ear. Dove back in with a ferocity that hadn’t been present before, and Jungkook knew. Jimin loved him.
They never did make that toast.