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Jimin is comfy and cozy, settled back into his bed with his legs propped up against the wall in a wide straddle and a book held open in front of his face when Hoseok returns home. It's not the weirdest position his roommate has found him in so he doesn't bother losing his place on the page with greeting him. Hoseok picks up one of Jimin's shoes laying on the floor and throws it across the room, startling Jimin into dropping his book right on his nose.
“Hey, This is Jin hyung’s book!” Jimin pouts. He rolls over in time to see Hoseok pick up the other shoe, “and those are my favorite shoes!”
Hoseok grins back in that slightly bitchy way that makes his dimples pop and gets Jimin a little horny sometimes. “Oh, they're your favorite? I couldn't tell seeing as how you never take care of them or put them away. Interesting.”
Jimin rolls his eyes and throws his legs back up on the wall. He tries to get back into his book despite Hoseok’s grumbling and puttering around their room. He gives up after a few minutes and reaches over to slap at his desk until his fingers brush his phone. When he unlocks it Jimin sees a missed call from Taehyung.
He frowns down at his phone. There's no voicemail or texts from Taehyung, just the missed call.
He'd normally just yell out for his friend down the hall to ask what the hell the call was about, but Taehyung went out with some of his actor friends to celebrate the premiere of someone's new show or something. Jimin, bitterly, hadn’t paid that close attention to the where or the why of it. All he knows is he’d left Jimin behind and he hasn't come home yet.
Jimin wrinkles his nose and flops over onto his stomach. “Hyung, hey did you hear anything from Taehyungie tonight?”
“Isn't he out with those handsome actor guys?” Hoseok responds, unhelpfully.
“Yeah, I know,” Jimin pouts again, “I have a missed call from him from like ten minutes ago. Do you know what that's about?”
“I couldn't fathom, Jiminie, I'm not the one with the weird psychic connection with him. Why don't you just call him back.” Hoseok shrugs, grabs his bath towel, and then he's gone again.
“Just call him back,” Jimin mocks at the empty doorway. Like it's that easy. It's not like he wouldn't call Taehyung back if he could, but that's just not something they do. As close as they are, they just aren't the type call each other to chat. Not like Namjoon likes to do. Occasionally Jimin will FaceTime with his members but only if they're out of town visiting family on breaks. He and Taehyung are texting long messages in the middle of the night friends, or even better, talking on the couch until they both fall asleep kind of friends. They're more the type to, without being told, know that the other needs a hug and just be there. They don't call to know each other. They just know.
A call, especially one without a text after, is just odd for them.
Just call him.
Still, it's a little concerning. What if something's actually wrong?
He hits the call back button, lifts the phone to his ear, and holds his breath.
Every ring that Taehyung lets pass without answering buzzes in Jimin's chest like a million hot angry bees. Just when he knows for sure the call is going to send him to voicemail, a voice as deep and rich as the ocean picks up and sleepily whispers, “H’lo?”
“Taehyungie,” Jimin coughs, “Did you call me?”
“Did I?” The call goes quiet for a moment before Taehyung says, “Ah sorry, right, yes. I did. It was a booty call! Don't worry, I'm almost home!”
And then the call goes dead.
Jimin peels the phone back from his cheek and stars at the screen, but the only clarity it offers is the ‘call ended 0:34’ message blinking up at him.
“Booty call?”
His whine fills the empty room. Booty call. Taehyung tried to booty call him. Jimin has no idea where to even begin with this situation. What the hell happened at dinner that prompted Tae to booty call him.
Him.
The worst part is the sudden worry that Jimin may have missed his chance. It's not something Jimin’s really considered before, not seriously. Sure, he's gotten himself off in the shower thinking about his friend’s big hands and warm touch, but who hasn't? It's not a thing. It's not that serious.
But Jimin's a flexible, hot-blooded young man and an opportunity for sex is an opportunity he wouldn't soon pass up. Especially if it's someone who knows him as well as Taehyung. Especially if it's a Taehyung warm and full from dinner, and maybe just a little loose from his maximin two sips of soju.
An embarrassing and unfortunate sounding groan escapes from his lips. It's not something Jimin’s considered before but now? Now he can't get Taehyung’s voice saying “booty call” out of his head. He wants it. He wants it really really bad, right now.
Just then their triple locked front door to their apartment clicks open and Jimin hears Taehyung shout down the hall “I've come home!” And Jimin, like some pre-debut virgin, gets hard at him saying come.
Taehyung begins shuffling down the hallway and holy shit he's heading towards Jimin's room. Thank fuck hyung is still in the shower, Jimin thinks. He hears Tae pause by the kitchen on the way. A weird place to hide condoms, but to each their own. Or, oh shit, what if he's picking up something kinky. Like whipped cream. Or a fly swatter.
The footsteps continue after a moment and hell. Taehyung called Jimin for a booty call and he's on his way to Jimin's room and shit they're going to fuck right now.
He's right outside.
And
He walks right by.
Down the hall, Taehyung's door closes softly but it lands like a bomb in Jimin's stomach.
What the hell.
By the time Hoseok gets back from his shower Jimin’s semi has died down significantly but his blood is still rushing with boiling anxiety under his skin. Hoseok whistles little sound effects as he does his nightly skincare routine and slides into his pajama shorts, completely oblivious to Jimin's pretty obvious breakdown.
He slides into his bed across the room and flicks off the light, chirping out, “Night-night Jiminie,” before he quickly falls asleep.
Jimin, however, does not.
Taehyung called him.
Taehyung called him.
For a booty call.
Now what?
Jimin's heartbeat pumps out a staccato rhythm, an abrupt counter beat to Hoseok's soft sleepy sighs across the room. He stares up at the ceiling for roughly six hundred years, after which it's time come to terms with the fact he won't be getting any sleep tonight. He swallows thickly and rolls out of bed.
Jimin stands and shakes out his legs and shoulders, trying in vain to release some of the tension coiled up in his muscles. But his body won't relax. His body now knows what it wants. Hoseok mumbles in his sleep as Jimin pads across the floor but Jimin ignores him. His feet pull him out his bedroom door and into the hall. Jimin peers down the long stretch of hallway towards Taehyung’s room. The hallway seems to stretch to impossible lengths the longer he stares.
Maybe Taehyung is waiting for him. A booty call sort of implies that the caller is requesting the presence of the callee. Taehyung called him and now he's waiting for Jimin down there. And there's nothing, nothing, Jimin wants to do more than keep Taehyung from being disappointed.
He steps forward.
Each footfall seems deafening in the quiet apartment, creaks and moans from the wood floor never before uttered until this moment. All of Seoul can probably hear him sneak towards his best friend’s bedroom, Jimin figures.
He takes a steadying breath before lightly tapping his knuckles against the wood of Taehyung's door.
It's a devastatingly long ten hours to wait until Jimin hears signs of movement on the other side. Jimin can hear Taehyung’s distinct wide-legged pants swish against the floor and the wood creaks under his sleepy stride.
The door peels open slowly. Taehyung blinks into the soft light of the hallway. He's in his pajamas, a silk polkadot set currently covered in crumbs, holding an open bag of crab chips.
Taehyung looks decidedly not like a man prepared to fuck Jimin.
“Jungoo-” He pauses, mid word, and blinks again. His eyes widen like he's finally seeing Jimin standing in front of him for the first time, “You're not Jungkook..”
“No…” Jimin says, rather lamely.
“I thought he was coming over to ask to play Overwatch.”
“Well… I'm Jimin,” Jimin tells him.
“Yeah.”
“Are you, uhh.” Jimin really isn't equipped to be having this conversation, much less starting it. “You called me?”
Taehyung blinks slowly again. He was definitely asleep, or at least very very close to asleep, when Jimin knocked. Fuck, what is he doing here.
“I did?” Taehyung asks.
“Yeah. You said it was a booty call?”
“Oh shit yeah.” Taehyung yawns and scratches under his pajama shirt. His hand very casually lifts his top up enough to expose his belly button and Jimin quickly averts his eyes. “I sat on my phone in the cab. Sorry.”
“A butt dial?”
“Yeah, sorry. Did I wake you?”
Jimin crosses his arms and pouts, “You said Booty Call.”
“Are they not the same thing?” Taehyung eyes are all puffy and his lips look all squishy and chewy and Jimin had been pondering the offer of fucking him for the past 54 minutes, but all he can think of now is how soft it would be to kiss him in the dim shadow of his doorway.
Instead of giving in, Jimin reaches past Taehyung to grab the door knob, looks up at him and says, “butt dial is when you sit on your phone and accidentally make a call. Booty call is when you wanna fuck late at night.” And pulls the door closed.
The quiet of the hallway is suddenly overwhelming. Jimin leans against the wall just to the left of Taehyung's door and tries to catch his breath.
He's mortified.
Jimin knows his best friend. He knows he sometimes takes three left turns before getting to the point. He knows Taehyung makes perfect sense all the time as long as you look at it from a slight logical tilt. He knows this and he loves Taehyung for it. Jimin should have known he probably didn't mean booty call, and yet he took a running jump into leaping to the conclusion that his best friend wanted to fuck tonight.
Jimin kind of wanted to fuck tonight.
Mostly he wanted more. Just more. Even if these feelings weren't fully clear until the moment his phone buzzed, Jimin has always, in some abstract way, wanted to give Taehyung more. More attention, more care, more touches. Jimin knows enough about the world to know that hooking up with your best friend can be messy and complicated but his feelings for his best friend have always been messy and complicated. If the offer to receive more, no matter how messy and complicated, was there calling him at eleven thirty pm, Jimin was absolutely going to answer the call.
Jimin signs and rubs his sweating palms against his shorts. He's not quite up to moving again, but if he doesn't get back to bed soon he's going to fall asleep here right outside Taehyung's door and that's just a little too pathetic for him tonight.
He rubs the prickly tears of embarrassment out of his eyes and strides away.
Jimin makes it about halfway down the hall before his phone begins to buzz in his pocket. Figuring it's just Hoseok wondering where the hell he wandered off to in the middle of the night, he answers without looking at the incoming call.
“ ‘lo?”
“You came anyway.” The voice on the other end of the call is deep and smooth, decidedly not Hoseok.
“Huh? Taehyung?” Jimin asks. He has to ask to make sure he hasn't had an embarrassment-triggered mental break and is just hallucinating phone calls now.
“I said it was a booty call and you showed up at my door.”
It's definitely Taehyung's voice. “Yeah.”
“Jimin,” the voice echoes in his ear oddly and Jimin turns around to see Taehyung hanging out into the hallway from his door frame, phone smooched up against his ears and his eyes wide, “What does that mean?”
“I thought you were booty calling me.” Jimin tells him. He hears his own voice come out the receiving end of Taehyung's phone down the hall.
“You thought I was booty calling you and you came to my door because you --” Taehyung doesn't look half asleep anymore. In fact he looks close to vibrating out of his own skin.
Jimin grins. He musters all the confidence he can find deep within his body and when that's not quite enough he imagines borrowing some from Seokjin down the hall. He wears it like a velvet cloak of false bravado and slinks back toward Taehyung's room.
He stands, chest to chest, with his best friend. Jimin plucks the phone out of his hand and leans forward, “I came when you booty called me because I wanted to be booty called by you.”
Taehyung's mouth drops open with an audible ‘pop’. A whine escapes his throat. Riding the thrill of getting a reaction out of him, Jimin presses up into him and lays a kiss right on the plumpest part of Taehyung's bottom lip. He grabs the doorknob to Taehyung's bedroom door again, and this time when it shuts he's on the inside.