Archive of Our Own

1995

It was just the tail end of spring when Jimin woke up to the sound of moving trucks. Rolling cans of metal and burnt rubber that came to a stop right outside his bedroom window, where Jimin pried his eyes open to the sight of strangers rather than the warmth of the sun.

Jimin’s face was still throbbing from the night before, an ache blooming in his temples the moment he tried to sit up. It wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to, his hands already working their way over his face to check the damage, assessing how bad the fight had gotten this time around.

His nose wasn’t broken. His eyes weren't swollen shut, vision blurry but quickly becoming more clear as he blinked himself fully awake. There was a splotch of blood from the split in his lip already dried and stained into his pillow, but, other than that he was just all bruises and tender skin.

He’d live.

Jimin’s appearance didn’t give him much credit, but one look at the duvets of his knuckles and it was easy to tell he hadn’t exactly walked away a loser. Years of getting kicked to the ground tended to make you learn a thing or two about how to do the kicking.

He didn’t ask about the moving trucks in the driveway when he finally made his way downstairs, no matter how much he wanted to. His parents seemed to be expecting some sort of conversation, prepared to give all the wrong answers to Jimin’s questions, but the boy didn’t have any.

He’d seen this coming.

A parent could only take so much when it came to seeing their child in pain, and in Jimin’s case, the white flags sprouting from his head never seemed to fall at ease. The bruises were never truly gone, always replaced with new bursts of purple and blue before the old ones could disappear.

He was falling apart. Anyone could see it, and his parents had come up with one solution. Evade, ignore, move. Leave and it’ll all disappear, because fixing it wasn’t an option. Changing who Jimin was was simply impossible, and so Jimin stayed quiet as he watched strangers walk in and out of his home with armfuls of items in hand. Didn’t say a word when they invaded his room and pulled out all his belongings to be placed in the back of a sun baked truck.

Jimin didn’t have any questions. He understood completely. And when he was shoved into a car for hours and forced to uproot his life for the convenience of his parents, he chose silence over anger for the first and last time.

They felt the need for a change, for a different reality than the one they were given. The one where their son was nothing but a pincushion to the kids at school, and no one cared or gave a damn because Jimin was gay and he could use a few hits to the head as a reminder. They wanted a chance at something better, and Jimin hated them, but he didn’t blame them.

He just hoped they were right, and maybe there would be something for Jimin to wish for too. Maybe there was happiness waiting for him in this new town, a version of himself and his parents that didn’t walk around each other, didn’t ignore their issues and hide their grief under arguments.

Maybe there was a chance for them, somewhere. And in the beginning, when their new house still smelled of fresh pine and polished wood, labeled moving boxes littering the floors, things had been okay. They were all holding on, if only for each other, and Jimin’s face began to heal along with the nightmares he left behind.

But it wasn’t long before the relief of it all dissipated, the initial blinding excitement vanishing to reveal the torturous normality underneath. The same problems were still there, just newly dug up, and nothing had changed.

His parents still fought, his heart still ached, and Jimin was still gay.

It didn’t matter if there weren’t tainted memories layered in every inch of the house. It didn’t matter if this was meant to be a new start for them. His parents still fought over him like animals, and Jimin still found himself dashing out into the freezing air in the same panicked daze as always, ignoring the uncomfortable screech of the screen door as it slammed back against the side of the house.

It was colder there than he was used to, the night air frigid against his skin, but he didn’t hesitate to stretch out across the front steps of the porch anyway, shorts riding up along his thighs.

The yelling had already begun to fade, lowering to a hush like it always did after Jimin would leave the room.

His parents weren’t ever the considerate type, never caring where they were or who was around when they would start arguing, but they at least had enough sense to stop screaming at each other whenever they realized it was enough to drive their son out of the house. They’d learned a few things over the years, had acquired some sort of decency.

It wasn’t much but Jimin took what he could get.

Jimin wasn’t sure how long he sat there, freezing his ass off, but he dozed to the kind of thoughts that usually kept him up. The thoughts that were just exhausting now, strenuous and pointless.

He didn’t listen to them anymore.

They were the kind of thoughts that a child would have, and Jimin hated himself for hoping. A part of him still wished things would get better. That he’d wake up one day and not be the reason his parents’ marriage was falling apart, but most of the time he just wished they’d stop holding on so desperately to what they knew was already ruined.

When Jimin opened his eyes again, blinking up at the night sky and wishing it were his bedroom ceiling instead, he found that his lashes were stiff and his back was numb, skin frozen to the point where he felt hot all over, burning through nerves.

He thought about pulling out his stash of cigarettes and smoking until he passed out. It would warm him up, make his heart ache a little less. His hand shook as he moved to feel around his pocket, cold air blowing out above him and into the stars.

Jimin knew he had a problem. His friends back home always told him so, and even though Namjoon was mostly teasing when he’d bring up health statistics, and Hoseok was always laughing when he’d tell Jimin to quit, there was truth behind their concern. They genuinely worried about how much Jimin smoked, but god- on nights like these, there was nothing like it.

Jimin reached for his lighter with a sigh, knowing damn well that if his friends were there they’d stop him, but they weren’t. They were a dozen towns over, a days drive away, and they weren’t going to stop Jimin because they weren’t going to know.

Jimin was confident as he flicked open his lighter, fingers reaching for his nearly empty cigarette pack that never left his pocket, but he was stopped anyway.

Not by his friends this time, but by a stranger.

“You’ll freeze out here if you keep that up.”

His voice alone very nearly shocked Jimin out of his own skin, tone warm and pacing smooth, each word dragged across his tongue before passing into the wind. He was Korean too, articulated and sharp with a distinctive accent Jimin hadn’t heard since he was a child.

It was startling, completely unexpected, and it made him so fucking homesick that Jimin felt a pang in his chest. His eyes softened as he slowly sat up to look at the stranger standing in front of him.

And suddenly, his voice became much less interesting than the rest of him.

This guy was tall, limbs seeming endless, and his face was a golden hue framed by big ears and blond hair tucked behind a snapback. He had a goofy smile on his face, mouth pulled tight in a way that made his cheeks rise, and Jimin didn’t understand how anyone could look that handsome while wearing a purple robe and slippers in the middle of the road.

“Who are you?” Jimin asked, unsure of himself.

He shouldn’t have been so comfortable speaking to a stranger, whether or not he was Korean and had the kind of face most people only dreamed about.

But when the grinning boy whipped the lapels of his robe around to take a seat next to Jimin, the boy found that the only issue he had was that his face was burning and shit- what if he sees?

“A guy who’s concerned for one. I don’t think your family would want to wake up to find you looking like a human popsicle on the front steps.” He laughed, the very sound of it like summer personified, warm and golden where it melted its way into Jimin’s stomach. The boy bumped their shoulders together. “I’m Taehyung but, you can call me Tae if it’s too much trouble.”

“Jimin.” He offered shortly after, looking away when he saw the enormous smile his answer caused.

“Do you speak English?” Tae asked in English, his voice more childish that way.

“Yes,” He nodded. “We moved to America when I was young, but I still remember a lot.” Jimin said, also in English, just to prove to Taehyung he could.

The boy smiled. “Where from in Korea?”

“Busan.” Jimin answered, and Taehyung’s entire face lit up.

“I have a friend who’s from Busan! I’m from Daegu myself, a farmer's boy.” His eyes formed into crescents when he smiled, these little half moon shapes framed by dark lashes.

Cute, Jimin thought innocently.

Taehyung looked back towards Jimin’s house, curious. Jimin wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep for, but all the lights in his house were out and the hushed voices of his parents from before had been replaced with a numbing silence that somehow felt even worse.

There wasn’t any way Taehyung could have known what happened, or that there was anything particularly wrong with this picture- Jimin frosting himself to the bone on his front porch, legs bare and lips blue, but that didn’t mean Jimin worried any less about what the other boy would think.

He just hoped Taehyung didn’t ask.

“Did your folks get into a fight or something?”

It was a stupid wish to begin with, but Jimin winced anyway, tension rising in his shoulders. He rubbed his hands together, hoping maybe the warmth would help his lungs feel less like they were suffocating.

“Something like that...”

“And you thought coming outside in the freezing cold was a good idea?”

“I didn’t really, um... have time to-” Jimin stiffened when he felt a weight drape over him, eyes bugging out to watch as Taehyung secured his robe across Jimin’s much more frail shoulders, gaze impeccably kind.

Jimin gaped at him like a fish, too polite to refuse but too shocked not to stare. He didn’t want the damn thing, not because Taehyung was a stranger and the robe smelled just like you’d expect a stranger to smell, unfamiliar and odd, but because he didn’t want the other boy to be any colder than he was.

Jimin tugged at the edge of the robe, determined to give it back, but Taehyung relaxed back beside him as though nothing had happened, hardly even shivering in his grey hoodie and plaid pajama pants. Jimin stared at him, swallowed, and slowly wrapped the robe tighter around himself.

He was the one wearing shorts. It seemed fair.

“Did your father do this?” Taehyung asked, reaching for Jimin’s chin to prod at a cut there.

Jimin smacked him away immediately, looking annoyed even when his pulse fluttered. “You’re real touchy you know that?”

Taehyung’s lips twitched upwards before smoothing down again. He tilted his head, blond hair soft enough to effortlessly follow the movement.

“If it wasn’t your dad then what happened?”

Jimin touched his chin carefully, inspecting the cut he hadn’t even known he’d gotten in the haze of it all. The tip of his finger came back red, a perfect drop of blood threatening to roll down to his palm.

“They were arguing, and he broke a picture frame. The glass... he didn’t mean to.” He insisted, feeling guilty for seemingly nothing.

Taehyung didn’t have anything to say to that, which was normally fine, but Jimin had the feeling that Taehyung was the type of person who was always talking, always moving. He was the type of person that when they did finally stop talking, you couldn’t help but think something was wrong.

“It’s like, one in the morning. What are you doing out?” Jimin asked, hoping to get as much personal information out of Taehyung as he’d somehow managed to get out of him.

“No, it’s 1:02.” Tae corrected pointedly, looking down at the watch on his arm, which wasn’t so much a watch as it was a red box attached to his wrist with clamps.

It looked like he got it from a cereal box.

“Close enough.”

“Not close at all actually. You can’t just round time like a goddamn decimal.” He demanded, playful despite his disappointed tone. Jimin frowned, wanting to argue, but there was a certain light in Taehyung’s eyes that hadn’t been there before, a passion he didn’t want to extinguish. “Every minute counts. It all matters.”

Jimin had to disagree. He seemed to live life trudging through every minute just to get to the next, hoping for it to be better than the last. He was seventeen and clueless and Taehyung’s logic didn’t make much sense to him, but he listened anyway. Tried to understand, or at least act like he did, but it was hard.

It was the start of another summer and he was friendless and alone with nowhere to go and it sucked. Jimin didn’t give a single fuck about time.

“Wanna join me?”

Jimin startled back, refocusing on Taehyung’s face. “Join... what?”

“My walk, obviously.” He said, standing up, and it was then that Jimin’s eyes were finally able to notice the boy’s slippers in the darkness.

They weren’t just regular slippers like he’d first thought, but rather enormous green blocks on his feet that covered his ankles. They had The Hulk’s face on the front, angry features glowing in the dusk, and Jimin didn’t need anymore convincing.

He wanted Taehyung to be his friend.

“Okay.”

The boy smiled as Jimin stood, completely real, blindingly genuine, and even then, Jimin had been convinced it was one of the prettiest things he’d ever seen.

……

Before Jimin knew it, what had started as a one time fluke became somewhat of a ritual.

Taehyung started showing up at his front steps every morning at 1:02 am like clockwork, never a minute off because he’d quickly learned the hard way that Jimin was a little shit, and he never let Taehyung live it down when he was late.

In the rarity that he was late, Jimin would make the younger do push-ups in the middle of the road until he was either laughing too hard to continue, or interrupted by the honk of a car. It was unquestionably dumb, but Taehyung did it anyway because he was teaching Jimin the importance of time and Jimin was doing his best to listen.

That first night, Jimin had followed unquestionably as Taehyung led him down the road, turned right at the first stop sign, and dragged him halfway down the street before they parted into a wooded area behind a row of houses.

It wasn’t the safest route to get where they were going, and Jimin had embarrassingly enough held onto the back of Taehyung’s hoodie the first night while winding through the trees, but it was a straight beeline from the road and Taehyung knew the area well.

“You’re gonna love this,” Taehyung said, and even though he didn’t know Jimin in the slightest, the smaller boy believed him. “It’s an abandoned train car. No one knows how it got here, but my friends and I think it’s UFO’s for sure.”

The train car was massive, much bigger than how they looked passing through the window of a car. It was lodged between two trees, the rusted metal tinged with leaves and brush over the sides, and the inside was nothing but splintered up wood and spray painted walls, the air reeking of dust.

Taehyung had helped Jimin into the car the first time, boosting him up effortlessly, but eventually Jimin learned to do it on his own and the abandoned train car became somewhat of a safe haven.

They brought blankets to sit on, comics to read, games to play, but usually Taehyung would bring his Walkman and to Jimin that meant nothing else mattered.

Taehyung might have seemed one dimensional to people who didn’t know him well, a person kept around just for laughs, but in reality he was a deep thinker who contemplated everything. Had opinions on the most profound things, and his passion for music was addicting, absolutely incredible to watch leap from his face, pour from his mouth.

He would come to Jimin with a new hoard of his favorite cassette tapes every time they saw each other, determined to play each one for Jimin while watching fondly for a reaction.

Jimin always tried his best not to be embarrassed at being looked at so closely, but Taehyung’s gaze was gripping and it made the pounding in Jimin’s heart flood straight to his cheeks.

It was interesting listening to Taehyung’s music. The moment Jimin would think he understood the boy’s taste, the next tape would introduce another genre completely different than the last, and Jimin would laugh all high pitched and squeaky while Taehyung grinned knowingly.

He had a fair amount of Backstreet Boys and Pearl Jam, nothing too surprising. But then he’d pull out tapes of Cyndi Lauper and Mariah Carey and Jimin was so bewildered by the vast contrast of it all that he’d often shove Taehyung away with a dramatic shout.

Things were easy with them. Jimin learned fairly quickly that Taehyung was exactly that: easy.

Everything about him was simple, comforting, likable. He made strangers feel cared for, and Jimin was no different. They got used to each other quickly, quicker than what was probably normal, and Jimin couldn’t tell if it was because of Taehyung’s personality or because of the vast amount of time they’d spend together.

He was sure it didn’t matter. They were friends, good ones, and Jimin had needed more of those, and so he didn’t question the sudden closeness. The attachment, the bundle of nerves and excitement in his stomach every night when he’d look out his window and watch for when Taehyung would arrive, aching for his presence.

Jimin didn’t bother worrying about just how fast their friendship was shaping. How words seemed to spill right out of him when Taehyung was near, when they were in the quiet of the train car together, just them, no one else. He didn’t think about how strange it was for him to want to be vulnerable with someone. How rare it was for anyone to get Jimin to talk about his parents, and how Taehyung did this without even trying.

They learned a lot about each other those first few weeks.

Jimin learned that Taehyung had an older brother in college named Seokjin, and that his parents were locals who owned a pharmacy. He found out they were practically neighbors and that Taehyung had lived in the same house all his life. He had a dog named Yeontan, and a hamster named Marlin, and him and his best friends had been together since kindergarten.

Jimin’s life in comparison was grey and black, colorless, but he told Taehyung about his shitty parents anyway, how he’d been forced to leave his friends Hoseok and Namjoon behind when they’d moved. The only people in the world he still talked to.

“Why did you move?” Taehyung had asked, and Jimin couldn’t possibly tell him it was because he liked boys, because his parents were sick of seeing their son come home with his face kicked in, and so he lied.

“My dad got a new job.”

Jimin asked Taehyung about his friends to change the subject, and if Taehyung noticed, he didn’t say anything.

His friends’ names were Jeongguk and Yoongi, one older, one younger, and Jimin thought they sounded nice. Taehyung seemed to smile the entire time while talking about them.

Outside in the open air of the train car, Jimin smoked without qualm. He asked Taehyung if he could, once, the first night, and when the boy said yes he didn’t ask again. Couldn’t really help what he needed, right? So he’d just smoke until his pack was empty and lay out on the pile of blankets they’d gathered, staring up at the graffiti on the ceiling.

It was during one night, when doing exactly that, that Jimin turned to Tae and said “we should add to it,” he squinted back up at the ceiling, mind in a blur, “mark our territory.”

Taehyung hadn’t done anything but smile at Jimin, soft and pretty like usual, like always, but the next time that they arrived at the train car, Taehyung had come prepared with two cans of spray paint, one purple, the other orange.

They fought over the colors, because that’s just how they were, but eventually they came together and wrote their initials on the ceiling, overlapping someone else’s detailed work with their messy scribble.

It was freeing, being with Taehyung.

It was a warm feeling, an endless feeling, the kind of dream that you wished was there every time you opened your eyes. That’s who Taehyung became to Jimin, a dream, this person who made him so fucking happy that when he wasn’t around every second was spent wondering when he would be.

They spent nearly half the summer like that. Sneaking out, having fun, talking about all the things they shouldn’t even be allowed to whisper- and it was almost perfect for Jimin. It was almost complete bliss.

But then their seven nights a week together started becoming five nights a week, and those five nights became three, and suddenly the amount of time Jimin spent without Taehyung by his side was entirely too much.

He tried talking to Taehyung about it, but the other boy always claimed he’d been with other friends, and he didn’t seem upset so why was Jimin? It wasn’t a surprise that Taehyung had other people to talk to, other people to make stupidly happy, but Jimin slowly started to take his reasons as excuses the more it went on, his emotions overlapping and turning skewed.

Jimin felt like he was being lied to, betrayed in a way he was much too used to, and so when Taehyung randomly made a jab at Jimin asking “do you think, maybe, you could stop smoking for the night?” Jimin couldn’t quite control the way he stopped, turned, and gaped at Taehyung unnervingly, cigarette dangling from his lips.

“You don’t like it?”

Taehyung frowned at the screen of his Game Boy, shrugging lightly. “I just... the smell gets all over you. I don’t like when you smell like smoke.”

The sound of Taehyung thumbing away at his game was the only thing masking the silence, the painful tension. Jimin was looking at him in the darkness, face shielded by the shadows in the train car whereas Taehyung’s game was glaring back against his features in a phantom glow.

“What? Too trashy for you?” Jimin asked pointedly, voice already ridden with hurt.

“That’s not what I said.” Taehyung sighed.

“It’s what you meant.”

The boy winced painfully, hastily pressing pause on his game. “Don’t put words in my mouth. I hate when you do that.” He said, irritated, and Jimin may or may not have had a few drinks at that point, empty beer cans strewn about the car, and so he couldn’t help but just keep pushing.

“Wow, you hate anything else about me tonight?” Jimin demanded, flicking the ash from his cigarette with an attitude that made Taehyung’s eyes widen.

“What the hell, Jimin?” He shook his head disappointedly, obviously wanting to avoid whatever bullshit argument they were settling into this time.

It wasn’t that they fought a lot. They just had a tendency to spiral out of control. Their teasing sometimes turned into a disagreement, and their disagreements had the potential of turning into bickering, and that pointless bickering almost always became some sort of argument.

They weren’t perfect was all, but Jimin had known that from the start.

Taehyung tried to turn his attention back to his game, but that only pissed Jimin off more, made his insides burn, because that was the fucking problem wasn’t it? Taehyung didn’t care. He didn’t care that Jimin wanted to see him more, or that he wanted to be with Taehyung somewhere other than a place made to keep secrets.

“Me? Are you fucking serious? You’re the one-” Jimin went to snatch the Game Boy out of the younger’s hands, but Taehyung caught him by the wrist instead, kind eyes suddenly angry.

“I asked you nicely to put the fucking cigarette out. How hard is that?” His grip tightened with anger, pulsing like his words, and Jimin hated how much he enjoyed the bruising touch. Preferred the way it lingered and hurt as opposed to not being touched at all. “Just this one time, this one night can you do that for me?”

Just like his timbre voice, warm and velvety smooth, Taehyung’s grip on him softened. He let go of Jimin’s wrist and brushed his fingers down the boy’s hand instead, turning gentle and loving again so quickly Jimin visibly shivered.

“Why? Would that make it easier for you to finally want to be seen with me?”

Taehyung stared at him with open confusion, brows turned downwards. Jimin stiffened.

Too close, too honest, too-

He scoffed incredulously, offended, and pushed Jimin’s hand away.

“You’re drunk, Park Jimin,” He said with a stern shake of his head, looking down at his lap like he couldn’t believe the boy beside him. “You are so stupid and bitchy and shit faced right now if you seriously think I’m embarrassed by you.”

“Why then, huh?” Jimin kicked at an empty beer can by his foot, chest rumbling. Taehyung watched the can as it slid across the floorboards, eyes ruptured and sad. “Why is this the only place you ever take me? The only place you ever want to be friends?”

“Because it’s us you idiot!” Taehyung exclaimed in a single breath, so beautiful even when angry, even when arguing with his entire chest- and Jimin felt himself crack. “Because in here, you talk about your parents. You talk about your friends and your old school and things that… that hurt.” His words were quiet, secluded and precious in the train car without the help of the wind to carry them off, but they were just as strong as they’d be shouted from a rooftop, screamed from the heavens.

It was so much importance in such little words and Jimin couldn’t believe this was the boy he’d doubted. This was who he thought had given up on him.

“I take you here because when I’m with you, that’s all I want. I don’t want anyone else around. I don’t want... other people getting in the way. When we’re here we’re us and... I like us a lot.”

Somehow, out of all the things they had confessed to each other that summer, nothing came close to this moment, that night, where Taehyung admitted something Jimin didn’t think could be put into words.

What they were to each other… Jimin had never felt anything like it before, knew it was something he’d never feel again- and it pulsed inside of him like a living being, always awake, always searching as though Taehyung was just as vital to his survival as the workings of his lungs and the blood in his heart.

It wasn’t explainable, would probably never be, and in a way that scared Jimin. Made him think maybe this wasn’t what was best for him. Wasn’t right, but for the moment, Taehyung was his only chance. At life, at anything, and he had no intention of letting him go.

“I like us too.”

Taehyung’s laugh was breathless and warm, held tight in his chest like he hadn’t been able to hold it in. “Of course you do. We’re fucking awesome.” He smiled like he knew it could change the world, fix everything. He smiled like he knew Jimin would believe it. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like a secret, Jimin-ah. That’s not what I wanted.”

It’s the way Taehyung grabbed his hand that got him. It’s the way he thought and took and held Jimin’s hand just because he wanted to, because he knew he could and Jimin had accepted him a million times before, would never think to do otherwise. It’s the confidence, or perhaps the fondness in the way Taehyung touches him, smooths over his fingers like he’s touching gold rather than skin that made Jimin think everything was going to be okay.

That he might be falling in love with Taehyung, but everything was still going to be okay anyway.

What are you doing to me?

Jimin wanted to ask him so badly. Breathe it into the shell of his ear during the times when they’d get trapped inside the train car by a storm and all Taehyung wanted was to feel Jimin close, hold him in the dark like the world was tearing itself apart.

Jimin wanted to know if Taehyung had any idea what he wanted. Had any clue at all where this was going, how he expected to handle Jimin once things went too far, got too real, feelings turning dangerous.

He wanted answers, but Jimin didn’t think there were any. And even if there was, he was almost certain Taehyung wouldn’t give him them.

……

Something strange happened after that night. Something Jimin had never allowed himself to truly hope for.

Taehyung started meeting up with Jimin in the daylight.

When the skies were clear and the wind was strong and nothing could prevent Jimin from realizing just how handsome Tae was, bold and bright in the sunlight. His skin stood out with immaculate perfection, chest broad, fingers long, smile joyful, and Jimin should have seen these as reasons to stay away but it was hard with the way Taehyung looked at him.

With the way he dragged Jimin along like he couldn’t bear to go anywhere without him.

There was just something about seeing him somewhere outside of a greasy train car that made Jimin weak. Made him feel like maybe this was so much more than a hazy dream he’d wake up from, a memory that would soon fade. It was more than a collection of 1:02 am’s that always felt like a fever dream once Jimin got back home.

The first time they ventured, Taehyung brought Jimin down to a creek only a few yards into the trees from the train car. They casted pebbles over the surface of the water and fell over in the mud when their competition became too intense, grabbing at one another with laughter stirring in their stomachs.

Taehyung had tried to catch frogs while Jimin perched on a log and watched, dry mud chippy and warm around his ankles. Taehyung walked him home that night, and Jimin had been too happy to even care about the disastrous state of his shoes or the itching sunburn that had crawled along his shoulders.

After that, Jimin had been content with the thought of meeting up back at the train car. He didn’t expect to get anything more than one sunny afternoon sloshing around in water. And yet Taehyung had been back the next day like clockwork, peering into Jimin’s bedroom window with movie tickets and a tiger smile, gold hair shimmering with sunlight rather than moonlight.

Taehyung never stopped after that.

He took Jimin everywhere, showed him off like some prized token that he wanted to watch shine. Tae drove him all across town, shoved him into dozens of different leather restaurant booths.

“This is the best place in town, trust me.” He’d always say, but Jimin wasn’t sure how multiple restaurants could be the best, and so he just went along with everything he was told, shifting nervously whenever Taehyung would squeeze up against his side of the booth rather than take the seat across from him.

He took Jimin to a park with apple trees lining the pathways, sunlight filtering in and out of the leaves in shadowed rays of green and yellow.

He took Jimin to see the new born puppies at an animal shelter, the graffitied skatepark that he broke his arm at when he was ten, the abandoned treehouse across his street that his older brother had built for him when they were kids.

He took Jimin everywhere.

All the places that mattered to him, and for a while Jimin had tried to understand why his friendship with Taehyung was taking unforeseeable leaps, why everything was changing so suddenly. But as the weeks dragged on much in the same way that Tae dragged Jimin by the claps of their pinkies, Jimin decided that he couldn’t explain it in the slightest. And maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.

He showed Jimin the courtyard of his school, where he introduced his friends Jeongguk and Yoongi and Jimin did his best to look like he wasn’t embarrassed when they started playing basketball.

Yoongi and Jeongguk were on the high school team, and it was fairly obvious that Taehyung was not, but they cheered Taehyung on anyway when he raced down the court like a wobbly lamb, laughter honey toned and sugar laced.

Jimin did his best considering he knew absolutely nothing about the sport, but Taehyung kept brushing past him on his way to sprint back down the court and it threw Jimin off completely, distracting him like nothing else.

At one point, Taehyung had gripped Jimin by the hips and lifted him up with surprising ease, high enough to allow Jimin to toss the basketball into the hoop in an imaginative slam dunk. Jimin had done everything in his power to try and forget this, but he knew Taehyung had been laughing. Jimin remembered that.

Taehyung’s hands had been warm where they grazed the bottom of his shirt, firm, strong, and then cold when they finally slipped under to brush against Jimin’s flaming body on the way to set him down. Taehyung had held him, stayed close just to smile down at him, shaggy hair damp and heavy over his eyes, cheeks rising up as hills on his face; Jimin remembered that too.

Taehyung had even invited Jimin to his house, where he introduced Jimin to his parents and his brother Seokjin who was back home for the summer, and then raced up the stairs like an excitable child, tripping over himself and falling flat on his face with Jimin close behind.

They collided harshly against the carpeted stairs and just layed there for a minute, waiting for Taehyung’s laughter to subside with their legs tangled and heads knocking. Tae’s dog Yeontan had bolted for them the moment he heard the commotion, leaving them screeching and covered in slobber.

Jimin had felt like a kid again.

He was becoming familiar, finding a routine with a best friend once again. He was pretending to study Korean with carpet scratching his legs and a tanned boy glued to his side, a book resting between them.

He was staying up late with a rotary phone pressed against his ear and sneaking out nightly just to talk to the same boy all over again, in the quiet of a train car where nothing felt like everything and everything finally seemed possible.

Sleep became a nuisance that friendship replaced, and it was everything Jimin had missed since the moment he moved there. It was exactly what he needed, and at the time, in the beginning, it had all felt like enough.

……

Jimin decided fairly quickly that he didn’t like Taehyung’s friends.

He didn’t like Jeongguk’s touchiness, the way his eyes shined whenever they’d crinkle up from a smile too wide for his face, hands reaching out to glide over Taehyung’s shoulders every chance he got, fingers let loose into Tae’s hair.

He didn’t like the way Yoongi looked at Taehyung. An insurmountable amount of quiet affection leaking from his cat-like eyes, button nose and pale skin too irresistible even for Taehyung who had an irritating habit of pinching Yoongi’s cheeks. He teased the older boy endlessly, cooing over his gummy smile, pouting at the way Yoongi’s small body cowered away even when his laughter was high pitched and cracking with joy.

He didn’t like them. Hated how easy it was for them, to be able to touch and smile and speak around Taehyung without feeling like they were going to be struck down by some higher power. Caught and exposed and revealed, laid out bare and plain for all eyes to see.

Jimin envied them, despised them and their ease, the carelessness in their smiles. But the truth was that they loved Taehyung greatly, in the way he deserved to be loved, and Jimin could never fault them for that.

“Oh hell no,” Yoongi said, standing up the second he caught sight of Jeongguk leaning over the edge of the skating ramp, looking to drop in. “Think again, motherfucker.”

“What?” Jeongguk asked innocently, but his grin was nothing but sly amusement, nose crinkling adoringly as he watched Yoongi stomp his way over to him.

“You’re not wearing a helmet.”

“I don’t need one, hyung.”

“My ass you don’t need one,” Yoongi grumbled, grabbing on to the front of Jeongguk’s shirt just to yank him off his skateboard.

The younger boy was much bigger than Yoongi, muscled and firm where Yoongi was soft and lean, barely level to Jeongguk’s nose, but he let Yoongi maneuver him around anyway, pliant and obedient even while cackling like a five year old.

“Here, take mine.” Yoongi didn’t even hesitate before unclipping his helmet and placing it on Jeongguk’s head himself.

Jeongguk blew upwards at his bangs with a pout, blinking through hair. “But now you don’t have one.”

“We can take turns, moron.” Yoongi pushed at the boy’s shoulder, dismissive and harsh, but Jeongguk just grinned like he was used to it, blushed like he was proud.

Jimin didn’t miss the way Yoongi turned just in time to hide his smile, head ducking away as Jeongguk clipped the helmet under his chin and dropped into the skating ramp effortlessly.

“They’re weird.” Jimin said offhandedly, squinting through the blaze of the sun above them with his arms wrapped around his knees.

Taehyung laughed, throwing his head back. “Don’t let Yoongi-hyung hear you talk like that. He’ll kick your teeth in.”

Jimin would have liked to assume Tae was just joking, but with the way Yoongi had been staring at him for the past hour, all squinty eyes and a scowling mouth that hadn’t even tried to utter a word to Jimin the entire time they’d been at the skatepark, Jimin didn’t know what to think.

“What’s this talk about kicking teeth in?” Yoongi appeared beside them like an illusion, frosted skin glaring in the sunlight.

It was embarrassing how visible Jimin’s flinch was, body tensing up like a wire while Taehyung squinted up at Yoongi with a lazy grin.

“Nothing, hyung. Jiminie here was just talking about how cute you and Jeongguk-ie are.”

Yoongi didn’t respond to that, simply just snapped his eyes over to Jimin’s as though he expected an explanation from the man himself. When Jimin had nothing to say to such a demeaning look, Yoongi finally broke into something more chilling, features becoming even more intimidating.

He squatted down to Jimin’s level, blond hair heavy over his charcoaled eyes. “You into that sorta thing or something?”

Jimin couldn’t help the way he panicked, eyes splitting open as though he’d been torn apart and picked clean. It was that kind of question that often came Jimin’s way with a right hook attached, his face much more accustomed to the force of a boy’s fist than the love of a boy’s mouth.

“Into what?” He asked innocently, hoping to god this wasn’t what did him in, that now of all moments wasn’t when Taehyung would realize who exactly he’d befriended.

“Fags.” Yoongi said, smiling through the word like it was simple, the silver glint of his pierced ears making Jimin lose focus. “You a fag, Jimin-ah?”

“What the fuck, Yoongi?” Tae snapped, already rising to his feet, a million times more angry than Jimin had ever seen him.

They collided in a mesh of muscle and gritted teeth, neither one of them daring to look away from where their eyes had met and seared together with matching aggression. Taehyung pushed at Yoongi’s chest with livid hands, muttering something only Yoongi could hear and answer with a shove of his own.

“Why did you bring this guy along, huh? You’re just asking for trouble now,” Yoongi demanded, pushing off Tae’s hands to gesture over at Jimin who was still watching helplessly from the ground. “Nothing but trouble this one- that’s what I see. Did you not learn your lesson from last time, Taehyung?”

“I’m warning you,” Taehyung breathed, voice grazing pure fire now, something dangerous vibrating off his skin. “Back off, hyung.”

Jeongguk was there only a second later, separating the two as though he’d been doing it all his life. Jimin watched as he dove for Yoongi first, hands firm but reassuring where they smoothed over the elder’s shoulders, dragging him back until the two were a great distance apart.

It took only a minute for Yoongi’s heavy breathing to slow with the help of Jeongguk’s hands on his back, smoothing circles into his skin while he whispered in his ear. Jimin wanted to know what they were saying, was curious how someone like Jeongguk could handle Yoongi so easily, but Taehyung was coming back over to sit beside him again and his attention was diverted rather quickly.

It should have been weird how easily the moment seemed to fade away and die on its own. But for some odd reason, it wasn’t, and it even felt strangely familiar. It sort of reminded Jimin of his parents; how some arguments were simply too heated to ever speak of again. How it was just so much easier to ignore and pretend that they’d never happened just so that they could move on with their lives with a little less baggage weighing them down.

Jimin understood this way of communicating well, had grown up with it all his life. But it didn’t fit Taehyung like it fit him. It didn’t make sense how someone so expressive and ridden with emotion could clamp up so suddenly, could be so angry, and Jimin was once again struck with how much he wished he could just understand.

While Jeongguk was stupidly kind to him, showing Jimin tricks and babbling on about his favorite comic book heroes, Yoongi didn’t seem to want to give Jimin a chance at all, and he wanted that to change.

He didn’t want to be disliked by Taehyung’s friends, even if he was uncertain about them, but after nearly two hours of watching Yoongi and Jeongguk bound in and out of ramps as though nothing had happened, Jimin decided he’d had enough.

He stood up and felt his heart stutter when Taehyung’s eyes followed him, head tilting curiously.

“Teach me something?”

Tae lit up instantly, mouth shaping into a boxy grin that reminded Jimin of a baby tiger. “Really?”

The truth was, Jimin had no desire to learn how to skateboard, or to even step foot on the damn thing. But Taehyung didn’t have to know that, and Jimin didn’t have to be such a fucking wimp, and so he nodded eagerly like he meant it and laughed when Taehyung nearly knocked his slushie over in his scramble to grab his board and slide his way into the pit.

It was worth it just to see Taehyung smiling again, cherry stained lips curled with unabashed excitement, but the way he grabbed for Jimin’s waist to balance him onto the skateboard wasn’t too bad either. The way his fingers lingered on the underside of Jimin’s jaw as he clipped his helmet in place was all Jimin needed to feel that he’d made the right decision.

He also wasn’t that worried about Yoongi anymore. About anyone, anything- nothing other than the burn of Taehyung’s hands on his arms, his shoulders, brief but scorching touches that seemed minuscule to Jimin’s mind but were heavy in his heart.

And those same questions arose again like unwanted flies, billowing up out of Jimin’s skin as though they had been lurking just beneath the surface.

What did it mean? What did any of it mean?

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” Tae frowned, looking down at Jimin’s trembling knees with a nervousness that was infectious. Jimin visibly paled. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t get hurt.” Jimin said dismissively, managing a smile, but his words came out a little puffy anyway, fear coating his eyes.

“Are you sure?”

Jimin hesitated. “No?”

Like with most things, the two of them broke out with laughter to hide the fact that they were nervous, stalling, using their heads for once, and didn’t stop until their doubts didn’t seem justified, until their worries felt pointless. They laughed until they were nothing but two young boys with way too much sugar in their blood, and suddenly anything felt possible.

“I’ll just roll you around.” Tae said, still grinning in that captivating way of his, and Jimin probably should have seen it coming, but his breath still hitched when Taehyung reached for his hands.

“O-okay.” He swallowed, gaze hyperaware and stuck intently on the contrast of their hands, a mesh of gold and white and strong and delicate that made Jimin’s head spin.

Taehyung started off slow, casually walking sideways so that Jimin could roll forward with their hands clasped, giggling sporadically.

“Yo, Jimin-ssi!” Jeongguk called out, a teasing lilt to his voice, and when Jimin turned briefly to find him, he couldn’t help but smile shyly when he saw the younger boy give him a double thumbs up.

“Ready for more, Jiminie?” Tae asked, biting his tongue with a smile.

Jimin’s grip on him tightened automatically, body tensing. “For what? Ready for what?” He panicked, but Taehyung’s only answer was to break out into a sprint without warning, adjusting so he was only holding one of Jimin’s hands.

“Tae!”

“Yeah!”

“What the fuck?!” Jimin screamed, wobbling and swearing with a venomous tongue, the sharp slap of wind on his face making his eyes water.

Taehyung did nothing but laugh as Jimin struggled to keep his balance, his smile turning face splitting whenever Jimin twisted his body awkwardly just to be able to have his other hand white knuckling the back of Taehyung’s shirt for extra support.

The moment didn't last long, catastrophe inevitable with the way Jimin was screaming, heart pounding away in his throat. But it took Jimin only a second of carding through the air to realize it wasn’t fear thrumming away in his lungs. It wasn’t fear making his skin dance, his stomach fluttering something awful.

Jimin’s eyes flashed with sunlight and concrete before his balance finally failed him and he was thrown off the skateboard, tumbling into a pair of arms that had been waiting for him.

It’s Taehyung who met the ground first, landing on his back with a punctured oof! that immediately turned into a groan when Jimin jostled against him, eyes blurry and legs weak. Jimin rose up from where he’d landed on top of Tae’s chest, hands dangling in the air like he couldn’t believe where he was, and Taehyung- with his stupid face and his stupid smile made Jimin realize that what he was feeling was so far from being afraid.

So far from what he wanted.

“I saved you!” Taehyung reached up to grab Jimin’s hands, pulling them from where they had been frozen in the air. “Holy shit, that was awesome- didn’t you feel awesome?”

Jimin definitely felt something, sparks wracking his spine, fingers tingling with warmth from where Taehyung was holding onto him.

“You guys alright?” Jeongguk asked, running up to them with his board tucked under his arm.

“That was quite the wipeout.” Yoongi mumbled.

“We’re good!” Tae insisted, sitting up with a smile that had Jimin awkwardly leaning back just to avoid bumping heads with him. He flopped onto the ground beside Tae, stomach twisted. “Jimin here’s got a gift.”

“Shut up, I totally ate ass just now.”

“That you did.” Yoongi said plainly, struggling to wrap an arm around Jeongguk’s shoulder with his height. The younger blushed at the attempt and slumped a little, silently helping them press closer.

When Jimin didn’t respond to Yoongi’s blatant jab, mostly because he had no idea what the fuck to say, Yoongi groaned deeply, almost like he was annoyed. He rolled his eyes and turned to walk back to the starting ramp with Jeongguk on his heels, and Jimin decided that yes, he hated them.

Or at least hated Yoongi.

Taehyung, of course, had a vastly different reaction to meeting Jimin’s friends. Namjoon and Hoseok had promised they’d visit at least once before the school year started, and naturally, the happy news had made its way to Taehyung.

The moment Hoseok and Namjoon arrived, legs sore and hands frozen after spending hours driving, Taehyung darted out into the road without qualms and tackled Namjoon back into the side of the car.

Namjoon, being the poor clumsy bastard that he was, reared back from the impact and broke off the right side mirror with his elbow. Still, he returned the hug graciously, expression guilty when he finally pulled away and saw Hoseok mouth out all the ways he planned to kill him over Taehyung’s shoulder as the two strangers embraced warmly.

Jimin stood off to the side, feeling strange and completely torn away from his own body.

Seeing Taehyung interact with Namjoon and Hoseok was... seamless. Perfect. It fit and worked so effortlessly, and Jimin wondered if maybe this was how it had been all along, all his life.

The four of them, together, biking through wooded trails in the summer with juice box stains on their shirts and dirt lathered deep into their socks, striking up a brutal fear of how their mothers might react.

Jimin thought it would’ve worked. He thought it would have really worked, actually. It would have been beautiful.

But the Taehyung of then was also the Taehyung of always, and Jimin had to stop forgetting that. Had to stop thinking that Taehyung had always been there, and that the feelings in his chest made any sense at all.

……

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are, you know.”

Jimin didn’t look up from where he was putting laundry away, hands disappearing and reappearing as he packed his clothes into the dresser and willed his heart to calm down, panic flaring up his lungs.

“Thanks for the input.” He said dryly, not even sparing Namjoon a glance.

Jimin’s friends hadn’t even been there for a day and Namjoon was already parenting him again. Apparently spending three hours with Jimin and Tae in the same room was enough for Namjoon to form whatever bullshit conclusion he was now preparing to give a speech over. It only took him one look at Jimin and Taehyung to see that his friend had already begun to stir trouble.

Namjoon gave a terse sigh from across the room, body bowed over the foot of Jimin’s bed like he’d rather be talking about anything else. “I’m just trying to protect you, Jimin.”

“No, you’re not,” Jimin turned around without deciding to, anger kicking in, his defenses on high alert. “You’re trying to make me feel like shit.”

“What’s gonna happen when school starts, huh?” Namjoon asked, meeting Jimin’s frustration with an ounce of his own. “Do you want a repeat of what happened last time you got too comfortable?”

Jimin couldn’t do anything but sink into himself, incapable of saying anything in that moment. He wanted to hate Namjoon for even mentioning how things had ended at his last school, for reminding Jimin about just how depressed he’d been surrounded by kids who despised him, adults who tolerated him simply because their jobs demanded it.

But Namjoon was his hyung, his friend, his childhood brother- and even when his words hurt, they still mattered. He never said anything with ill intentions, not a trace of judgement, and Jimin had to take a second to remember that. Had to physically force himself to calm down and imagine what things would be like if Namjoon didn’t accept him. If both him and Hoseok had abandoned Jimin the second they caught wind of why he’d come home with a broken face nearly every week.

The thought made him fucking sick.

“It’s bound to happen eventually, isn’t it? Knowing me, knowing how I am. I’m not like the rest of you.” Jimin said, being honest with Namjoon along with himself, worst case scenarios sprouting up without pause.

Namjoon studied him for a moment, eyes glued to where Jimin was standing with his hands curled into fists, nails digging into his palms.

“You have to try.” Namjoon said gently, eyes softening to reveal nothing but kindness, worry deepening the furrow in his brow. He gestured for Jimin to come closer, hands clamping around the boy’s arms. “Hey- stop that.”

He slowly unraveled Jimin’s hands, encouraging his fingers to loosen and spread apart, let go of the strain that was making them tremble.

“But why?” Jimin looked down at his hand in Namjoon’s, not even shocked to see the new crescent shaped marks he’d made into his palm. “Why do I always have to try so hard to be someone I’m not? How is that fair?”

“It’s not fair,” Namjoon wilted, looking so impossibly sad for Jimin’s sake that the younger felt his heart cry out, body slumping forward. He buried his head into Namjoon’s shoulder. “But it’s necessary for you to be safe.”

“Safe,” Jimin laughed brokenly, voice thick, nose stuffy. “Isn’t that so fucking sad?”

“Do you love him?”

Jimin didn’t have to answer for Namjoon to notice the jolt that coursed through the younger’s body, everything inside of him freezing up as though he’d been held at gunpoint.

Jimin knew, Namjoon knew, and it should have been terrifying but instead Jimin just felt empty, twisted and wrung dry. He pushed his face even further into Namjoon’s shoulder, hiding his tears so desperately it made his chest flicker with pain.

The door to Jimin’s room opened before Jimin could fully gather himself, the safety and comfort he’d felt leaving the moment he looked up and saw Hoseok hovering in the doorway with Taehyung at his side.

Hoseok stilled with his hand on the doorknob. “Shit- are we interrupting something?”

“No-”

“Kind of.”

Jimin winced at the slip up and immediately moved away from Namjoon’s shoulder, eyes blinking rapidly to force the tears away. Hoseok still didn't move for a few seconds, recognizing a tension he couldn’t decipher, but Taehyung forced his way inside with an oblivious giggle and the moment was gone, replaced by an effortless calm that followed him around everywhere he went.

“I think I’m gonna head on home. Let you three be alone for a change.” He announced brightly, eyes wide and lips shiny from the pizza they ate earlier.

Jimin couldn’t help but stare at the boy’s mouth as he came closer, distracted by the gleam of them, perfect cupid’s bow even more prominent when outlined by grease.

“Are you sure?” Jimin asked. “Cause’ they'll be here a few days, you don’t have to- god, Tae wipe your mouth.” He blurted out suddenly, exasperated the longer he continued to stare, unable to look away.

Taehyung’s smile was shy, cheeks turning rosy in record time. “What? Oh-” He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, flustered when he drew back and saw the shine on his skin. He turned to Jimin with parted lips, expectant, “is that better?”

Jimin nodded with a heavy head, embarrassment crawling up the back of his neck.

“Anyway, yeah, you guys got stuff to catch up on.” Tae continued easily, either ignoring or missing the way Jimin exhaled, tight and heavy under his breath. “I’ll survive one night without my Jiminie, don’t you worry.”

His words were followed by a gentle brush of fingers to the back of Jimin’s head, pretty nails scratching lightly at the dark haired boy’s scalp. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for them. Wasn’t even anything special, but having Namjoon and Hoseok witness it made Jimin’s heart spike as though it was the first time he’d ever been touched, the intimacy of it feeling different when other people were around.

Almost like it was more real, more daring. It mattered more when it happened in the regular world, not just in Jimin and Taehyung’s.

“I’m really glad I got to meet you two. You’ll have to tell me stories about baby Jimin sometime in the future, yeah?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” Hoseok smiled, the idea making him giggle into Taehyung’s shoulder as the younger pulled him into a quick hug, palms landing loudly on each other’s backs.

Taehyung gave Namjoon a flattering wink and a shoulder squeeze before making his way back to Jimin, who had already stood up from the bed with wobbly knees, knowing what to expect but melting anyway when he was pulled into a hug.

“Bye, Taehyung-ie.” Jimin could feel his face going red at the attention they were getting, body wired up and vibrating from the feeling of Tae’s hands on his lower back.

Every touch felt more intense, like a direct blow to his already crippling heart, the strangeness of it registering only now. It made him wonder about their relationship in a way he never had before, in a way he probably wouldn’t have if Namjoon hadn’t confronted him head on, questioned him so directly.

Was what they had normal? Was it normal for friends to touch so fervently, gently, almost like they were afraid each time would be the last?

Taehyung didn’t tell Jimin goodbye, as usual. He just squeezed Jimin tighter, nuzzled into the side of his face, and made sure his smile was audible when he said, “I’ll call you later, Jimin-ah,” because time was a selfish, fleeting thing, and Taehyung was always willing to spend his with Jimin.

Hoseok smiled at Tae as he left, heart shaped lips pulled tight, but the second Tae was out of the room and through the front door, he whipped around to face Jimin with wide eyes, dumbfounded expression more hilarious than it was unnerving.

“Okay, first of all? What the fuck,” He said, words squeaky and high. “Are you two…?”

“I’m not having this conversation again.” Jimin muttered tiredly, ignoring Hoseok to flop back down on his bed, eyes immediately lifting to his ceiling as though there was a haven waiting for him there.

“You already knew?” Hoseok turned to Namjoon with something close to betrayal in his voice, body lurching forward as though he intended to tackle Namjoon who frantically put a hand out to stop him.

“They’re not together, Hoseok-ah.”

“Right,” Hoseok said, entirely sarcastic.

He dove forward onto the bed carelessly, trampling over Namjoon who groaned and pushed him off without hesitation. Hoseok threw the younger boy a glare, whining in the back of his throat, but he rolled away anyway, taking the opportunity to get closer to Jimin who he cuddled to his side affectionately.

“Look, I wasn’t gonna mention it, but you two are so fucking gay for each other.” Hoseok stated plainly, sitting up on his elbow to brush a tuft of black hair out of his face.

“He doesn’t see me like that.”

“Jimin,” Hoseok cackled, throwing his head back in disbelief. “He looked like he was about to marry you on the spot when you offered him your slice of pizza earlier.”

Jimin shook his head before he could even let himself analyze Hoseok’s words. The last thing he needed was to start looking back at moments he and Tae have spent together, to overthink and dramatize them to try and fit his narrative, his desperate hopes and wishes.

He forced out a shrug. “Tae loves pizza.”

“So not the point.” Hoseok said, low, exasperated, maybe even a little annoyed, and Jimin felt his composure finally snap.

“There isn’t a point, hyung.” He pulled himself from Hoseok’s grasp, teeth gritting as he sat up. “Tae’s my best friend, that’s just how we are and he- he doesn’t… think like that. He’s not like me, and I’m not gonna fuck up our relationship just because I can’t control how I feel.”

Hoseok pouted. “How do you know though?”

“I just do.”

“But how?”

“Hoseok-ie.”

“I’m serious!” He exclaimed, hands raised defensively, lips curled into a cheesing smile. “Everyone’s a little queer these days, there’s no shame in that.”

Namjoon gave Hoseok a questioning look, eyebrows raised comically. Hoseok just squirmed and smiled bashfully, ears turning red.

“I can’t risk it.” Jimin said softly, ignoring Hoseok’s remark, not caring in the slightest. “I can’t lose him, not Taehyung- not…” He trailed off, one look at Namjoon and Hoseok’s pitying faces making his voice seize up altogether.

He didn’t need the false hope, the dramatic encouragements. The last thing Jimin wanted was to have more reasons to believe in what would never happen.

There was already a Taehyung in Jimin’s head that was different from the one he was with everyday. A version of Taehyung that seemed to look at Jimin a little too long when they were changing in the same room, spoke softer with Jimin than he did with anyone else. They were nothing but fragments, harmless observations Jimin had made and tossed out with a guarded heart, but they remained anyway, stayed in his mind where they could be disregarded as nothing but Jimin simply seeing what he wanted.

He wanted Taehyung to look at him like his presence was a physical glow, an aching warmth. He wanted Taehyung’s eyes to linger on his lips as he spoke, but that couldn’t possibly be the truth. That couldn’t be what he was really seeing when Taehyung was in front of him, smiling at him, looking at Jimin like he was something that had fallen from the stars, and so Jimin kept those thoughts faraway.

Kept them in his head for no one but himself, where he imagined a Taehyung that did do those things. A Taehyung that was close to impossible.

……

Eventually, despite his doubts, Jimin found himself burrowed into Taehyung’s group of friends whether he liked it or not, experiencing something he’d never felt before.

He’d been close with Namjoon and Hoseok in his hometown, the three of them inseparable. They were his best friends, over at his house more often than they were ever at their own, but this was different somehow and the only thing Jimin could really think to blame it on was Taehyung.

Taehyung and his stupidly good taste in friends.

Jimin wasn’t exactly sure how it happened, but if he wanted to be especially boring with the details, he could say it all started at a local ramen bar Taehyung had taken him to, an approximate ten minute walk from the skatepark.

It was one restaurant in the dauntingly short list of places Taehyung hadn’t taken Jimin to yet, and so the elder had agreed without much thought, painfully hungry and blessedly oblivious up until he made his way back to the table with his ramen, and found Yoongi and Jeongguk squished together in the booth across Taehyung.

“You didn’t say the kid was coming.” Yoongi had grumbled right as Jimin sat down, and Jimin had promptly watched both Taehyung and Jeongguk tense up in their seats, eyes meeting with concern.

“I’m not so happy to see you either.”

Taehyung slapped a hand over his mouth at the same time Jeongguk bit into the skin of his thumb, the two of them somehow taking up enough fear in the room that Jimin was left without any. He was beyond caring at that point. He had truly reached his limit when it came to Min Yoongi.

The elder raised a suspecting eyebrow at Jimin’s sudden courage, his usual perceptive frown turning into a sideways smirk that crawled up his face daringly. “Bold are we?”

“Not bold,” Jimin shrugged. “Just honest.”

“Holy shit…?” Jeongguk marveled under his breath, sinking further into his seat.

“How come you’re here anyway?” Yoongi questioned with a flaunt to his wrist, leaning forward over the table like he had all day to be an asshole. “Why did you choose Taehyung-ie of all people to follow around like a lost puppy, huh?”

“Are you jealous or something?”

Ah, yes, answer questions with more questions. Great on the defensive, Jimin.

Yoongi seemed to think the diversion attempt was just as ridiculous, his eyes crinkling as he laughed through his nose. “Of Taehyung? God, no. Not at all.”

That sure made Jimin’s cheeks burn, the insult stinging more considering he hadn’t seen it coming at all, but he pushed forward anyway. Glared at Yoongi with the steam of ramen flooding between them.

“You don’t have to be such an asshole, you know.”

“And you don’t have to be here.” Yoongi said through a gasp, a mocking smile flaring up his face.

“I don’t need your permission to be with, Taehyung-ie.” He demanded incredulously, surprised by just how emotional he sounded, eyes shimmering in the low light. Yoongi closed his mouth just long enough to inspect Jimin closely, squinted eyes narrowed further. “I understand you’ve all been best friends for so long, and that it probably feels like I’m getting in the way of that, but Taehyung’s important to me just like he’s important to you.”

He glanced at Tae mildly, hands twisting beneath the table, but there was really nothing to be nervous about. Taehyung smiled at Jimin like he always did, only now there was a sort of pride there, an undeniable warmth that made his shoulders lift.

You’re important to me too, Jimin could imagine he wanted to say, and his heart flipped in response.

“So, if anything, we at least have that in common.” Jimin said, and this is where it gets a bit hazy around the edges, uncertainty sweeping through the cracks of the memory, but Yoongi hadn’t sprawled over the table to choke him like Jimin expected him to.

Instead, he smiled. Wide enough to show off his gums as he laughed, this warm, airy sound that reminded Jimin of a clock ticking, or a gumball machine latching as it spun, and Jimin was forced to lean back out of pure disembodied shock.

Yoongi slapped at the table as his shoulders shook, large piano hands clanking against the wood. Jimin expected to get scolded at the very least, kicked under the table for his efforts, but instead the elder sighed into his Coke can and leaned further into Jeongguk’s arm, sharp eyes slitted with amusement.

“There you go, kid.” He muttered, lips curled as he took a sip of his drink, and that seemed to have been all he was waiting for.

Two hours later, and Jimin thought he might have been completely wrong about Taehyung’s friends.

Yoongi was still a dick, snapping at Taehyung to wipe his face and demanding Jeongguk stop chewing with his mouth open, but he was surprisingly gentle when he wanted to be. All tough until either one of them mentioned how cute he looked with his cheeks full of naengmyeon; it was pretty much over for him after that, every hard line in his face melting with embarrassment.

Jimin found somewhat of a kindred soul in Jeongguk’s selfless heart and toddler laughter, everything about him wonderfully bright despite being in high school.

He was a child at heart and Jimin liked how wide his eyes got every time one of them started speaking, every ounce of his attention laid upon whichever hyung as though they held Jeongguk’s world entirely. He was easily entertained, almost as easily as he was happy, and Jimin had decided right then and there that he didn’t mind this at all.

The feeling in his chest, the ease in his heart. There was something special in the way Jeongguk smiled at Taehyung, something extraordinary about how attentive Yoongi was with both of them, eager to help, quick to comfort, and Jimin knew he wanted to have that. He wanted to be a part of that, more than anything, and for once, the universe didn’t seem opposed to letting Jimin be happy.

Before he knew it they were all speaking to each other on a daily basis, diving through yards and catapulting themselves off skateboards with caffeine dancing in their veins. Jimin’s bedroom wall started filling up with Jeongguk’s sketches and Yoongi’s Pokémon cards throughout the summer, and Taehyung had settled for sticking glow in the dark stickers there as well, just to feel included.

The four of them spent their days stretched out beneath the sun and their nights strolling the streets, dipping in and out of gas stations just to steal ring pops and bubblegum, their pockets rustling with loose change. Time became pointless to keep track of and Jimin could really only decipher it by how often Yoongi changed his hair color, a never ending kaleidoscope that never failed to stop spinning.

They lived freely mostly; drank until they were laughing up puke, pierced each other’s ears in Taehyung’s kitchen, played video games until the moon met the sun. But they still managed to dedicate every Sunday night to watching The Simpsons, where they’d all cram together on Taehyung’s living room couch eating fried chicken and drinking kool-aid until they fell asleep.

Jimin had woken up on the floor one of these nights, delirious as to where he was. The TV was still on, volume low and crackly in the background, the light from it casted all across the ceiling and couch where Jimin could see Yoongi sleeping soundly on top of Jeongguk’s chest, their hands tangled between them.

There was a quiet moment where Jimin just looked at the two of them, their faces pale from the static glow, and allowed himself to believe that maybe there was something there. Maybe he wasn’t imagining it, wasn’t projecting himself onto other people just so he could picture what it might look like to be gay and happy and in love.

Wouldn’t that be a beautiful thing?

Jimin had only been seconds away from falling back asleep when he heard a shift of fabric above him, a rustle of skin making his eyes creak open. When his vision cleared, he found that Yoongi was already peering down at him from over the side of the couch, face scrunched up like a tired old kitten.

“The hell you doing awake?” He asked through a whisper, voice low and gruff, but not unkind.

“I could ask you the same thing, hyung.” Jimin smiled, feeling a little giddy every time he got to say that to the elder, excitement coursing through him as though he was feeling the victory of getting on his good side all over again. “Are you comfortable?”

Yoongi let out a quiet laugh through his nose, the action all air and squinty eyes. “He might not look like it with all this muscle, but Guk’s the best pillow there is.”

Jimin tilted his head fondly as he watched Yoongi sink even further into Jeongguk’s chest, almost as if to prove his words. His frail body that seemed to flinch at a gust of wind was so relaxed like that, cheek pillowed right where Jeongguk’s heart was, the beat of it a steady drum against his ear.

It was disarming to see Yoongi so comfortable, so soft and at peace as though he wasn’t the boy who wore rings like they were gloves and spat venom at the flip of a switch.

“You two seem really close.” Jimin said, simply speaking his mind, intentions unclear.

Yoongi turned to him slowly, movements suddenly more careful than they were before. “And?”

There wasn’t an ‘and’ in Jimin’s mind. He hadn’t meant anything by it, didn’t mean to imply or mention what he really thought, what his brain was incompetent for even entertaining.

He was being ridiculous.

“I don’t know, it’s nice,” Jimin shook his head, cheeks newly flushed. He was such an idiot. “Sweet even.”

He had to stop hoping there were others like him. That he had somehow fallen into the laps of people who could understand him better than anyone, who could help Jimin and his fucked up mind feel not so fucked up. Those were the kind of thoughts that were dangerous, that had screwed him over time and time again, all his life.

He had trusted the wrong people, believed the wrong things, and now he had to stop falling two steps ahead, exaggerating every little thing he saw Yoongi and Jeongguk do just because he wanted to see hope somewhere. Anywhere.

Jimin had to fucking get a grip.

“Thanks,” Yoongi replied, stiff but sincere, smiling a little awkwardly. “You guys too,” Jimin looked up with blatant confusion on his face, mouth still wide open when Yoongi continued, almost like it was obvious, “you and Taehyung.”

“Oh.”

There was a silence that followed. One that stifled Jimin, but was easy for Yoongi to take in stride.

“You make him really happy, you know that? I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time.” He said, looking over at Taehyung’s sleeping form with quiet affection leaking through his eyes. “I think that’s why I was so fucking protective when you first moved here. I didn’t know a thing about you and yet you were somehow making our best friend happier than we have in years.”

Jimin couldn’t contain his surprise, full lips parting around nothing but air. He gave Taehyung a heavy glance, chest aching with how young the boy looked sprawled out in his family’s recliner, blond hair angelic over his sun kissed features, lithe body swallowed up by a hand stitched blanket his grandmother had gifted him when he was a child.

He couldn’t imagine Taehyung ever being anyone else than who he was. Couldn’t comprehend that there was a time where that boxy smile of his was hard to come by.

He turned to Yoongi with shining eyes, not really sure if his heart was ready when he asked, “Years? Why years?”

“He got his heart broken a while ago,” Yoongi said gently, voice ridden with a sadness that came so suddenly it made Jimin’s heart ache. “Fell for someone who didn’t love him back, and he sort of caved in on himself. Taehyung’s always loved too fucking easily. He seems to fall in love with everyone he meets, but this one was-” Yoongi seemed to lose himself in the memory for a moment, a haze settling over his eyes. He swallowed hard, looked at Jimin like he could tell the boy was breaking, “it was one of his best friend’s, and it ended badly.”

Jimin had no right to go around believing he knew everything there was to know about Taehyung. He was merely a blimp of time in Tae’s life compared to Yoongi and Jeongguk who had been there since the beginning. But Jimin had always been jealous when it came to Taehyung, possessive in a way he didn’t know how to handle, and being reminded that he did not in fact have a scripture to every tragedy Tae’s ever faced and every memory he’s ever wiped clean was like a kick to the stomach.

To realize he’d been oblivious to something that had splintered Taehyung so deeply, so continuously that even years wasn’t enough time to dampen their impact, was a reality check Jimin hadn’t asked for.

“I had no idea.”

“There was no way you could have known. He never talks about it with anyone,” Yoongi said, noticing Jimin’s guilt and rushing to clear it away with a deliberate shake of his head, eyes clear and sympathetic. “I just wasn’t sure I was ready to let someone get close to him again. But, now I realize I was wrong. You’re exactly what he needs.”

It wasn’t often that Yoongi complimented someone so openly, without shying away or wincing like it physically pained him, and so Jimin managed to give him a smile even though his heart still hurt. A brief taste of happiness finally surfacing when his smile made Yoongi do the same, a flash of gum and teeth that he quickly hid into Jeongguk’s chest.

Jimin looked over at Tae, eyes softening when he noticed that the boy had bundled up a part of the blanket to hug towards his chest like an imaginary cuddle buddy, nose twitching as he breathed warm and slow.

“Is he okay now?” He asked Yoongi, voice hardly audible with how much he was focusing on Taehyung’s face, eyes tracing every golden line of him, every beautiful inch.

Jimin wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, admiring his friend as though Yoongi wasn’t staring right at him, watching his every move, but he turned when he finally realized Yoongi hadn’t answered. Looked at the elder expectedly as though this reckless teenager had all the answers.

Yoongi’s hair was a mint green color then, a bizarre choice that Jimin was certain no one else in the world could pull off as well as he did. It made him look magical of all things, like a fairy or a piece of candy, the color bringing out his delicate traits rather than his intimidating ones, and Jimin thought it suited him.

Thought it made him look cooler, sweeter, almost like he was telling the truth when he looked at Jimin in that thoughtful way of his and said, “I have a feeling he’s going to be.”

……

Jimin watched from the front doors of the roller rink as their bus stopped, boarded, and drove off just as Taehyung got back from the bathroom.

“What did I miss?” He appeared with a smile, whipping a few stray drops of water from his washed hands at Jeongguk.

“Our fucking ride.” Yoongi answered with a disbelieving laugh, pushing his way through the entrance like he had every intention to run after the damn thing, when in reality they all knew he didn’t.

“Oh,” Tae blinked, staring down the street just in time to watch the bus turn and disappear behind a row of trees. “Well damn.”

If he was anyone else, Jimin would have been less forgiving about how long Taehyung took to use the bathroom. Anyone else, and Jimin would have scolded him for being so careless. But the thing was that it was Taehyung, and getting upset was never the default when it came to him. Laughter always came first, and this time was no different.

It remained even when the roller rink closed and they couldn’t go inside for snacks while they waited for the next bus. The laughter carried on even when it started sprinkling, drizzling, pouring, and they were running through the rain with their clothes already soaked through, their hair wet and frizzy as it dripped into their eyes.

The joy did, however, falter at the first clap of thunder above their heads, a sharp strip of white light bleeding through the edges of clouds.

“Oh shit!” Tae shouted in wonder, smiling up at the sky, completely fearless. He turned back to look at Jimin mid run, grinning ear to ear as he laughed, “did you see that?”

And Jimin wished he could have answered that he did, he had, and he understood the look on Taehyung’s face. The absolute epitome of youth and time and beauty that was leaping from his eyes and pouring from his mouth, but the truth was that he didn’t.

He’d been too busy looking at Tae.

“Change of plans,” Yoongi said, turning his head to squint at the other’s through rain, words sharp with exertion. “Do you guys mind going to my house? It’s closer than Taehyung’s, and my fucking dick is wet.”

Jeongguk slipped and fell with the force of his laughter, landing in a way that had Jimin immediately dropping to his knees just to help him up. He was worried for maybe a second, hands gripping the back of Jeongguk’s shirt like he was prepared to carry him the rest of the way, but the boy was practically choking with how hard he was laughing, smiling with full teeth and a scrunched nose, and it wasn’t until then that Jimin allowed himself to smile as well.

“You okay?”

Jeongguk made a happy noise at the back of his throat, doe eyes smiling all on their own as he grabbed Jimin’s hand and stood up.

“Yoongi-hyung is such an idiot.” Is all he said, lifting his head to smile right at Yoongi as the rain rumbled on, pelting their skin, and Jimin looked between them with that same wonderment again, that same question waiting on his lips.

They continued on.

There was no one home when they got to Yoongi’s house, despite it being mid-afternoon, but Tae and Jeongguk didn’t seem to be surprised by this and so Jimin pretended he wasn’t either. It wasn’t a very big place, easily the smallest out of the four of them, but it was clean and smelled like fresh pine needles, the layout easy enough to follow as Yoongi led them to his bedroom.

Jimin couldn’t help but notice how comfortable Jeongguk looked as he moved through the house, breezed through the corridors. He was the first to step inside Yoongi’s bedroom, everything about the way he entered showing ease and comfort.

He peeled off his wet clothes, threw on one of Yoongi’s massive hoodie’s, and sprawled himself across the bed while Yoongi watched fondly, his smile hidden.

It was the first time Jimin had ever seen Yoongi’s bedroom, and he quickly realized just how rare it was for Yoongi to get this close to people, to feel so connected. Everything about him was closed off and tucked away, but his bedroom was like his heart peeled open, his desk littered with VHS tapes and magazines, shelves lined with books.

There was an overwhelming emotion that got caught in Jimin’s throat when he stepped inside and immediately noticed a little pride flag pinned to the pale boy’s bed frame, a splash of rainbow that stuck out enormously in the otherwise darkened room.

There was a moment when Yoongi looked at Jimin, eyes ready to dash away at any sign of disapproval, and Jimin couldn’t even describe the feelings that washed over him. Couldn’t explain the tears that boiled against his eyelids, because Yoongi was nothing like he expected and he never thought someone could be so strong.

That there could be someone like Jimin that wasn’t hiding.

After that, things were different, but not in a bad way. They went to Yoongi’s place a lot more, basked in the comfort of knowing all the things they shouldn’t know, and Jimin watched Yoongi kiss Jeongguk in the darkness when they thought no one could see, outlines bleeding together under the weight of Yoongi’s sheets.

It made Jimin happy to see them like that. So open, so loving. But it also made him sad; made him wish for things he shouldn’t.

It made him brave too. Brave enough to not think so hard about the way he looked at Taehyung from a distance. Brave enough to admit he thought Johnny Depp was hot, thought people should love whoever the hell they wanted. He gave subtle hints, brief flashes, opened up with time in the hopes that the three of them (Taehyung mostly) would just catch on without him having to spell the words out in a way he never really could.

Jimin thought they understood. He’d catch Yoongi smiling at him sometimes, something like pride dancing on his face, and Jeongguk always seemed to make sure Jimin was in the room when he’d paint his nails black, wanting his support. But there was no way to know for sure.

They never talked about what Taehyung might be, but Jimin wasn’t blind. He could see the way girls looked at him from afar, and he wasn’t even all that surprised anymore when they’d go out and Taehyung would get approached from seemingly nowhere, always another nameless girl who had been stricken by how handsome he was.

Jimin was used to it at that point, which is why he hardly even blinked when the same thing happened in the middle of dinner one night during their last week of summer. Taehyung was offered a napkin from their waitress, her number scrawled in heavy ink, and his eyes beamed up just as the girl’s darted down, the blush in her cheeks darkening when Tae smiled.

He didn’t say anything when Taehyung shoved the napkin in his back pocket before dragging Jimin out of the restaurant by his pinkie. Jimin never asked whether Taehyung really called those girls. Never wanted to know so badly that he’d risk having to hear yes, but he brought it up later that night when they were tangled together on the younger’s bed, hands clasped between them.

“Are you gonna call that waitress?” He asked calmly, trying to seem nonchalant even when his heart was hammering nervously.

“No,” Taehyung admitted, smiling shyly. “She was cute and all but... I’m not interested.”

And it was then, for the first time, with Taehyung drawing patterns on his hip, nose nuzzling at Jimin’s temple with the dampened warmth of summer blowing in through the open bedroom window, that Jimin let himself wonder whether he’d somehow fallen for a boy who had the ability to love him back.

......

Everything changed when the summer ended.

No amount of cuddles from Jeongguk or smiles from Taehyung could have prepared Jimin for that first day of school.

It was already hard enough being a new kid, every pair of eyes following you with second made assumptions, blink of the eye opinions, but to be Jimin on that first day was like being the only fish in a tank full of sharks.

He wasn’t just being looked at. He was being assessed, questioned, judged the moment he walked in with Taehyung at his side. Jimin thought he’d experienced dread before, but walking down those hallways for the first time with the constant pressure of a strangers glare was something straight out of a nightmare.

To say Jimin was careful would be an understatement. Of course he was careful. His cluelessness was what got him fucked last time wasn’t it? His inability to hide who he was, keep his feelings buried, but there were just some things he had no control over.

Like how full his lips were, or how thin his waist was, his features more feminine than masculine, more different than normal- and his voice was something he despised in the times when he’d be forced to speak aloud in class, his tone like glass and fairy dust compared to the other boy’s his age.

The rumors were set in stone by the end of the first week. Slurs were thrown his way by the second, and Jimin found himself wondering how Yoongi and Jeongguk managed to make it look so easy. It helped that they were popular, he supposed. It wasn’t as obvious because they played basketball and had muscles and walked down the hall confidently whereas Jimin cowered and ran away to find Taehyung whenever he could.

It was miserable, and yet Jimin knew it was nothing compared to what he’d left behind, and so he kept quiet. He didn’t complain when his parents asked him how school was going over dinner, and spent every spare moment he could with Taehyung.

It was during the first high school basketball game of that fall that Jimin heard a grumble of words brush by his ear. They weren’t whispered this time, but instead thrown with purpose, with malice.

They were delivered with the intention of hurting, which is why Jimin was shocked when they weren’t even directed at him, but at Taehyung.

“Look’s like you finally found yourself another fag to prance around with, Kim.” The boy sneered on his way up the bleachers, arm thrown around the shoulders of a blonde girl half his height. “I’ll be sure to let all the girl’s know you’re too busy taking it up the ass to pay them any mind, yeah?”

For the longest time, Jimin just sat there. Confused, dazed, trying to piece everything together fast enough to comfort Taehyung who obviously bristled at the insult, but he couldn’t.

Was Taehyung like him? Was he...

“There’s nothing wrong with taking it up the ass, Nicky Boy.” Taehyung grinned, wide and playful, but there was a tension there that Jimin couldn’t look away from. “I’m sure you’d enjoy it actually, with an ass like your’s. Ask Christina there if she’d be willing to give you the strap some time.”

The boy- Nick from what Jimin could gather, was up and charging down the bleachers the moment Taehyung’s words struck a blow to his pride, face livid and flushed red as he made his way towards them.

“You fucking cocksucker-”

Jimin didn’t have a plan, but he stood up anyway. He didn’t have much confidence, but he raised his head and barely stumbled when he was punched in the face for his efforts, a full body ache spreading down from his cheek.

He heard Taehyung gasp, along with a few screams from the cheerleader’s, the basketball game coming to an abrupt halt as the people in the stands rose with concern, but somehow Jimin couldn’t find an ounce of fear anywhere in him.

There were people in that room who were scared for him. One of them being Taehyung, but the only worry Jimin had was that Taehyung would be hurt. That the same boy who had punched him without hesitation would somehow get his hands on Tae too, and that was the only thought that registered before Jimin was throwing himself forward.

Once again, there wasn’t a plan. Nothing but hysterical judgement, frantic defense, but Jimin found that wrapping both of his hands around Nick’s throat was effective, and it made the boy pliable enough for Jimin to be able to pin his body back into the bleachers despite being half his size.

They struggled for a few moments like that, both of them fighting for the upper hand, but when Jimin started landing punches on Nick’s head, fists finding purchase across his face and stomach, there wasn’t much the boy could do but raise his arms and try to cover himself.

There were multiple people who tried to pull Jimin away, but the second their grip would slip Jimin would find himself crawling back just to land another punch, split another knuckle, the first taste of satisfaction surfacing with the appearance of blood.

In the end, it was Jeongguk who got Jimin to stop. Arms looping around the dark haired boy’s stomach so tightly it made Jimin cry out in pain.

“What are you doing?” Jeongguk heaved, holding onto Jimin’s arm like he still expected him to try and escape.

“Jesus, kid.” Yoongi said, appearing behind Jeongguk’s shoulder with wide eyes. He looked down at Jimin’s hands in disbelief. “Fuck- don’t move.”

Jimin didn’t even react when Yoongi led him down the bleachers in a mass of hysteria just to press a damp towel to his hands, the bone deep stinging in his fingers barely a whisper compared to the worry turning bile in his stomach.

“Where’s Taehyung?” He gasped thoughtlessly, staring up at the bleachers to find Taehyung gone and the beaten boy swarmed with athletic trainers.

“Tae can take care of himself goddammit. Worry about yourself for once, you’re bleeding all over the place.” Yoongi pressed the towel harder into Jimin’s knuckles, a silent warning, and the pain registered all at once, rushing up Jimin’s arms where he winced and fought back against the pressure.

“But, h-he was gonna-”

“We know, Jimin,” Jeongguk said lowly, sweat still fresh in his hair, a splotch of blood from Jimin’s hands stained into the front of his basketball jersey. “Believe us, we know.”

“No,” Jimin shook his head, slow at first, then quick and frantic like his heart was being ripped apart. “No, I don’t think you do.”

……

Jimin was smoking a cigarette and staring straight at his bedroom clock when the numbers 1:02 appeared like magic, like a flash of hope that flared up in his chest so quickly it was gone in an instant.

He didn’t think he was going to see Taehyung that night, not after causing such a scene. He probably embarrassed him, made him feel weak or incapable or something, and the thought had Jimin losing hope. Had him crawling back to his stash of cigarettes that he hadn’t touched in nearly a month, his mind never clear after Tae had told him he didn’t like it when Jimin smelled like smoke.

He watched as the minute slowly ticked by, his house utterly still apart from the creak of his ceiling fan and the chirp of crickets outside. It wasn’t until seconds before the minute hand shifted that Jimin heard a rustle outside his window, the light of the moon replaced by a softened shadow.

When Jimin turned, eyes sweeping up from the floor, he found that the ground just below his window was dancing with shapes and figures, two distinctive hands making playful shadows into the carpet.

Jimin’s heart nearly bursted.

He rushed to stamp out his cigarette and brush back his hair with shaky fingers, suddenly nervous, but there was really nothing he could do about his wrecked appearance. He made his way to the window after a relenting sigh and unlocked the latch, careful about how much noise he made as he slowly pulled the window up.

“I guess you were probably wondering if I’d show up.” Taehyung said with a timid smile, peering up at Jimin eagerly the moment the window was open, drinking him in with his pretty eyes.

“You didn’t have to come, you know.” Jimin muttered, feeling more open than he had in a long time standing in front of Tae like that, face beaten and hair greasy.

“I needed to apologize.” He said.

“No you don’t, Tae.”

“Yes, I do.” He insisted, speaking deep and slow in that way Jimin hated. That way Jimin loved. He reached through the window to touch the older boy’s face. “God, he hit you harder than I thought.”

Jimin wondered if it bothered Taehyung that he melted into his touch, seeped into him so willingly, pushing his cheek back against Tae’s palm as if asking for more. He wondered if Tae even noticed it, the daze in Jimin’s eyes as he brushed his thumb down the edge of his jaw, barely grazing the scabbed wound over Jimin’s cheekbone.

“I’ve had worse.” Jimin whispered, unable to speak any louder so long as Tae was touching him like that, dancing over his skin and choking up his lungs.

Taehyung pulled away with saddened eyes, pouting like a child. Jimin hadn't told him why he’d had such a hard time at his last school, couldn’t really afford to go into detail, but Jimin knew he’d said enough for Tae to know that he wasn’t lying.

“What you did was... you didn’t have to-”

“The guy was an asshole. I got angry, and he deserved it. You would’ve done the same for me.” Jimin said simply, hating that Taehyung looked so broken up about this, guilty when he should just be thankful it wasn’t him and move on.

Tae shook his head, refusing. “Still, it wasn’t your place to step in. You got hurt and you’re... you’re not even…”

Jimin stayed carefully still as he waited for Tae to finish, to find those words, but when he looked up at Jimin almost like he was pleading, Jimin pushed him, “I’m not what?”

A part of Jimin had known Taehyung wasn’t going to answer. That he hadn’t meant to say that in the first place if the look on his face was any indication, but he couldn’t help but try and pull it from him anyway. Get a clue just by the way Taehyung tensed and avoided his gaze with reddened cheeks, hands nervous where they came up to clutch at the windowsill.

“I’m sorry you got hurt,” Tae said, desperately brushing past the moment. “But I deal with that shit all the time, you don’t have to defend me like that.”

“You can’t stop me.” Jimin laughed, true amusement carded into his smile, and Taehyung looked at him like he was crazy.

Something flickered in his eyes like a match, glaring, breath stilling. It reached for Jimin in the darkness and sunk into his chest, wrapped right around his heart, and with the appearance of a smile, it was gone.

“Are you tired?” Tae asked suddenly, noticing the light strain in Jimin’s eyes and leaning forward on instinct, reaching out once again to card his fingers through Jimin’s dark hair.

Jimin felt his stomach kick, skin rising with chills he did his best to stifle down. He was almost certain he still managed to shiver.

“No, m’not.” He answered quietly, even as his eyes closed and the moonlight caressed him much in the same way Taehyung was, each of his touch’s unbelievably delicate.

“Do you think I could come in?”

Jimin’s eyes opened in surprise. “Why?”

“No reason.” Tae shrugged, but Jimin thought there must have been a reason with the way Taehyung crawled through the window and embraced him the second his feet were on the ground.

Jimin froze against him, heart pounding away in his chest. “Taehyung-ie?”

“I’m not proud of what you did,” He said, heavy and breathless against Jimin’s neck. “And I don’t wanna see you do it again, but… I’m just so fucking grateful.” He held Jimin impossibly tighter, forced his way in until his nose was buried into the front of Jimin’s throat where the younger bit back a panicked gasp. “No ones ever done something like that for me. No one ever cares-”

“What do you mean no one cares?” Jimin drew back instinctively to look at Taehyung, eyes wide with disbelief. “Yoongi-hyung and Jeongguk care.”

“It’s not the same. They care but they just- they don’t get it.” He was pouting as he made his way back to Jimin, felt warm and soft to the touch as he slid his arms around Jimin’s waist. “Did you know they’ve been together since freshman year? All that time and no one’s suspected shit because they’re so good at hiding it. No one ever picks on them the way they pick on me.”

Jimin didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to feel standing there with Taehyung’s hands clutching his back, face pressed into Jimin’s neck so that the boy could feel every tantalizing breath.

He wanted so badly to ask whether it was true. Whether Taehyung’s sadness stemmed from more than just casual meanness, frustrating rumors. He wished he could just ask Tae, get those words out, but there was too much at stake, too many breakable things waiting in the void he didn’t dare cross.

“I’m sorry, Taetae.” He said, and he meant it, but the words still felt wrong.

“At least I have you,” Tae mumbled, the seam of his lips an innocent press on Jimin’s skin. Jimin wondered if he could smell the smoke on him. “I’ll always have you by my side, right hyung?”

Jimin didn’t expect for his stomach to drop the way it did, excitement rushing to his brain like a fucking drug. His pulse was a lifeline that he clung to, felt in every part of his being.

“Aish- why so polite? We’re only two months apart, don’t make it weird.” Jimin wiggled out of his grasp with a whine, face flushing.

“Whatever,” Taehyung laughed, letting Jimin go just for the sake of getting to watch him squirm. “I think you secretly like it when I call you that.”

Jimin officially went into distraction mode after that, fear and humiliation bubbling up quick enough to have him crossing to the other side of the room and flopping on his bed. He quickly dragged a pillow over his head just for good measure, but the giddy warmth of Taehyung’s laughter still bleed through to his reddened ears.

“Are you planning on sleeping over?” Jimin asked when he felt a weight appear beside him, bed dipping.

“If you don’t mind the risk of getting cuddled to death.”

Jimin smiled to himself, face still hidden underneath his pillow. “Have I ever?”

……

Jimin didn’t know if it was Taehyung’s presence that did it. The press of his body against Jimin’s, the brush of skin he felt constantly throughout the night, Tae’s noodle arms never shy about the way he cradled Jimin into his chest.

He didn’t know what it was, but when he dreamt, he dreamt of Tae. Eyelids dancing with tiger smiles and molten eyes and golden skin, lips that tasted like sunshine and hands that felt like home the moment they reached for Jimin’s.

He was absolutely insatiable, dreaming about Taehyung like that when the boy was sleeping right there next to him. Still wanting more, needing everything.

It lasted throughout the night, endless glimpses of what could never be that left Jimin floating and heartsick by the time he woke up to the sound of curtains opening, the unsettling feeling that someone was watching him shaking him right awake.

There was a figure leering by the door when Jimin finally opened his eyes. It stayed utterly still as it watched Jimin sit up, movements heavy and slow. Jimin tried to quietly slip from the bed, but the moment he peeled the covers away there was a hand flying for his wrist, holding him back down.

“Jiminie?” The boy lifted his head off the pillow to squint at Jimin, lips pouted in a way that would have driven Jimin crazy if he hadn’t been hyper aware of who else was in the room with them.

He slowly pried Tae’s hand off, careful about how much he touched. “My mom’s here, Tae.”

Wide, fearful eyes pierced through the darkness, flickering up to Jimin’s with mutual panic. They seeked comfort, reassurance, a plan on how the hell they were going to get out of this, and it was the first time Jimin had ever seen Taehyung hint that this wasn’t normal. That he was well aware what this looked like, how the two of them appeared to other people.

“Mrs. Park!” Tae had wiped the expression from his face by the time he was out of bed and greeting his mother with a smile. “Gosh, it’s so good to finally meet you. I’m Taehyung.”

Jimin’s mother accepted the hand she was given, mouth shaping into a hesitant smile as she watched Tae bow. “It’s nice to meet you too, honey.”

Jimin watched in silence as the two interacted, feeling close to passing out. He couldn’t tell what his mother was thinking, the tone of her voice indecipherable, but Taehyung’s nervous babbling was enough to make Jimin sick to his stomach.

“Cool, yeah.” Tae glanced over at Jimin when the silence continued, ears going red. “Um, I’m gonna go ahead and go. Thanks for letting me spend the night… I’ll call you later?”

Taehyung didn’t make a move to hug Jimin like he usually did, arms pressed firmly to his sides. His fingers twitched as the moment dragged on, Jimin staring at him like an idiot before finally answering, “I’m not sure.”

The younger’s expression immediately dropped, eyes softening with disappointment. He looked torn for the longest time, questioning whether he should say something, before eventually averting his gaze and leaving altogether.

It hurt to watch him go.

“Who did this to you?” His mother’s worried hands were flying out to cup Jimin’s face the moment they were alone, manicured nails scraping across his cheeks carelessly.

Jimin instinctively flinched back, the touch making him tense. “It’s nothing, Mom, just-”

“Was it that boy?”

“Taehyung? What- no!” Jimin said, voice turned shrill and insistent. He grabbed for the woman’s wrists, peeling them off himself with gritted teeth. “Why would you think that? I’ve told you about him.”

“You told me he was a friend.” She said pointedly, eyeing Jimin’s throat as though she expected there to be evidence there, a damning clue as to who Taehyung really was.

“He is a friend,” Jimin repeated. “He just wanted to spend the night, that’s all.”

His mother’s worry deepened, the aging lines in her forehead appearing like cracked paint. “And the bruised cheek?” She asked, once again pressing a thumb to the wound on Jimin’s cheekbone.

“It was just some kid at the basketball game last night. Nothing I couldn’t handle.” Jimin grumbled out, fighting down the urge to swat her hand away.

“What does that mean, Jimin?” She cried, looking close to tears as she watched her son cringe from her touch, eyes pained. “Did you get in trouble with the school?”

It all felt so familiar. So painfully in line with every other moment like it. His mother’s tears, his father’s absence, Jimin’s indifference. His life had changed, brightened bit by bit, person by person, but coming home, things were just the same. Everything was the exact fucking same.

The sound of the kitchen phone ringing off the hook was what made his mother finally pull away, her hands leaving a phantom itch on Jimin’s skin. She leaned into the bedroom door frame with a withered sigh, frail body losing its courage. It looked like she had given up. Almost like she knew who was calling, couldn’t handle that she did, and Jimin stood there silenced and stilled as he watched his mother pick up the phone, fingers wrapping around the chord.

Neither of them were surprised when it turned out to be the school calling. Jimin had been expecting it, waiting for that phone call the administration themselves had promised they’d make come morning. There was never a chance that Jimin was going to come out of that fight unscathed.

It looked like he wouldn’t be hearing from Taehyung later after all.

……

It wasn’t until the fight got really bad that Jimin left his room. Anxious, careful footsteps the only way to get a hold of the corded phone in the living room that his parents had taken from his nightstand.

He was grounded from using it, from seeing his friends, but Jimin’s parents were arguing in the dining room and he saw his opportunity from a mile away. Heart pounding, Jimin snatched up the phone and darted back to his room, in a hurry to call the one person he needed to hear from more than anything. The one person he hadn’t seen in days, and had been missing since the moment he left.

By the time Jimin had dialed Taehyung’s house number and pressed the phone to his ear, he’d already realized just how risky he was being, how late it was, the red digits on his alarm clock nearing midnight. He knew what he was doing was ridiculously stupid, borderline pathetic, but the last few days had left him drained and miserable, his parents lurking around every corner.

Jimin could feel himself sinking back into who he used to be. Who he’d been and how he’d felt before moving, before meeting Taehyung, that slow, heady, drowning feeling returning so quiet but deadly. It was strange how something that used to be so common for Jimin was capable of scaring him now, but getting a taste of something good had a tendency to do that.

Jimin had found Taehyung, found something that bounded him to the world and made him feel time pass, and now he couldn’t afford to go back. He didn’t want to feel empty and alone again, and for that, Jimin presumed one phone call wouldn’t be the end of the world.

There was just always the risk of someone other than Taehyung answering.

“Hello?” Jimin felt his entire body stiffen, half tempted to end the call right then when the voice continued, sleepy but kind, “is that you, Jimin-ah?”

It was Taehyung’s brother, Seokjin. Jimin had met him once or twice, brief little exchanges that only went as far as the elder throwing potato chips at him and Tae from across the living room, flipping off the TV playfully when they were playing video games, but other than that they were complete strangers.

“Are… are you okay?” Seokjin asked softly, always so intuned with other people, capable of knowing their thoughts and feelings from a single glance.

“H-hyung,” Jimin grimaced at the sound of his own voice, throat clogged with tears he thought he’d cried out by now. “M’ sorry it- it’s so late I-”

“Don’t worry about the time,” He said, although Jimin was almost certain he’d woken the man up. “What’s going on?”

Jimin sat there for a moment without saying anything, hesitation pulling at his chest. He didn’t know Seokjin all that well, but he also didn’t know whether Tae had talked about Jimin enough to his brother that maybe Jin felt like they were close enough to share so intimately.

Fearful of coming off as rude, Jimin carefully asked, “Is Tae there?”

“He’s at Jeongguk’s I think,” Jin answered smoothly, cool as ever, like always. He didn’t really seem like a person who got offended easily. “Said something about a Star Ships marathon?”

Jimin felt a smile pull at his cheeks sweetly, the first one in days. “Star Wars, hyung.”

“Ah, right. The one with the space dude who's got asthma.” Much to Jin’s prideful delight, Jimin laughed, low and breathy like he couldn’t help it, eyes crinkling in the darkness.

Seokjin reminded him so much of Taehyung, his humor just as absurd, face just as handsome. He was foolish and naive, but he saw the best in people and switched from funny to caring in the blink of an eye. Somehow, talking to him made Jimin miss his best friend even more.

“What’s wrong, Jimin-ah? Something happen?” Jin asked, never giving silence a chance to appear before he was charging in with that twinkling voice of his, soft and wispy like he held the essence of dreams on his tongue.

He was the embodiment of comfort itself, so easy to fall into, and so damn convincing.

“My parents. They're just…” Jimin twisted the phone cord around his thumb, rocked back and forth where he sat on the floor beside his bed. He didn’t know how the fuck to even explain it. “They fight over what’s best for me, but they don’t realize that that’s exactly what fucks me up.”

Jin seemed to consider this solemnly, hoping to understand. “You’re not fucked up. You’re actually pretty cool as far as little brother’s best friend’s go,” He ended up saying, dampening the hurt with humor, brushing away the pain with sincerity. If Jimin was there with him now, he imagined Seokjin would have wiped his tears. “Way better than that Jeongguk kid. He’s a brat.”

“I’ll make sure to tell him you said that.” Jimin snickered, knowing well that those two were insufferable, slapping and teasing each other constantly with wide dopey grins.

“Go ahead, I’ll kick that bunny’s ass.” Jin said, entirely unbothered, worryingly confident.

The sound of a chair screeching and collapsing to the floor outside of Jimin’s bedroom was the final warning that he’d already been on the phone too long, and was well past pushing his luck now.

He sighed into the speaker, the static of it rushing back to his own ears. “I’m sorry I called.”

“Don’t be sorry, seriously,” Jin said kindly, unburdened. “Tae’s not the only Kim brother who’s here to look after you, you know.”

And Jimin didn’t know why that made his heart grow about three times as wide, face heating up with a smile, but he was thankful for it all the same. Thought about how he hadn’t felt that warm and cared for since the last time he’d been in Taehyung’s arms.

“I know, hyung,” Jimin whispered, before that familiar twinge of bashfulness came trickling back into his stomach, painting his skin up nice and pink. “Can you tell Tae that I miss him? When he gets home? I’ve just… I’ve been grounded and I haven’t been able to-”

“I’ll make sure to tell him.” Seokjin assured, something sly and all knowing passing through his voice, and Jimin could just tell he was grinning, all plush and magical.

Seokjin was in the middle of laughing squeakily when Jimin clicked the phone back into its holder.

……

“Jimin-ah!”

It’s a wonder how Jimin even had the chance to turn around before he was tackle-hugged into a row of lockers outside the detention hall, the wind getting knocked out of him the second his back met cool metal.

Two large hands wrapped around him, one going for his waist, while the other slipped its way behind Jimin’s head to soften the impact. He could feel the boy giggling against him, honey voice pitched high with a giddiness that made Jimin smile into his shoulder.

“Can’t believe I finally ran into you,” He said, breathless as though he’d been running, heart pounding through his shirt. “What’s this huh? Big bad Park Jimin got detention?”

“It’s the least they could give me for fucking that kids face up.” Jimin said, trying not to laugh, but seeing Taehyung again was like experiencing color for the first time, the apples of his cheeks turning red when Tae pulled back to look at him.

Jimin didn’t think he’d ever seen Taehyung so happy before. So happy he was radiant, vibrating with it, bouncing on his own toes just to stumble and catch himself with the kind of smile that made people fall in love. Made Jimin so fucking breathless he was dizzy with it, eyes rushing to take in every beautiful inch of him.

“I missed you too,” Tae whispered, precious and sweet like he wanted Jimin to remember. Wanted Jimin to dream about the way he bit his lower lip and grinned, stepping closer.

It took Jimin a moment to comprehend the words from Tae’s mouth, how they were a response to what Seokjin had promised he’d deliver, but once he did he felt his heart give like a broken weight. Sudden and painful as it fell to the soles of his feet.

“Are you still grounded?” Taehyung asked, so hopeful it made Jimin frown guiltily.

“Yeah.”

The boy’s smile somehow found a way to grow. “So, usual time tonight?”

Jimin laughed, bubbly and loud with his hands rising to his mouth, eyes crinkling in both disbelief and excitement. They were unbearable, impossible, more disastrous together than they were apart- but for them it all felt so simple, as though they were following a destiny. One could not be without the other, and they had never been above breaking some rules to keep it that way.

“Of course.” Jimin said.

And you’d think he’d be used to it by now; the thrill of hearing those words, the prospect of waiting for 1:02 to come around and carry him away, but it still felt just as freeing as it had that very first night. When Taehyung had found Jimin and relieved him of who he’d been before.

Taehyung appeared outside of Jimin’s window that night without fail, knocking softly on the glass just to have Jimin tumbling out after him into the freezing air. Underneath his jacket, Tae was still wearing his pajamas, this bright red matching set that had golden buttons running up his sternum towards his throat, the collar turned up.

They held onto each other as they walked, hands slinging between them. Because of the cold, Jimin reminded himself. It was because it was cold, and their fingers were slightly less numb when linked together, when Taehyung continuously brushed his thumb over the top of Jimin’s hand.

“You’re freezing,” Tae said after a while, frowning down at their hands, the tremble in Jimin’s much more severe than the one in his. “Are you sure you don’t want my jacket?”

The cold wasn’t the issue. Jimin had gotten used to it by then, the casual chatter of his teeth, the ache in his toes, but the tremor in his hand was Taehyung’s doing and he wasn’t sure there was a way to tell him that.

I’m fine, you just make me really fucking nervous?

Jimin let out a startled laugh, nose red and shiny. “I don’t need-”

Apparently, Jimin hadn’t had a choice to begin with, because before he could even answer Taehyung was already removing his jacket and grabbing Jimin's arm to help him slide it on. The younger’s scent flooded him, absent one minute and there the next, twice as strong as Jimin had ever smelt it before. A mix of sugary sweetness like strawberries, or candy, and the smell of outside, the tales of a young boy who had spent countless nights bathing in cigarette smoke and moonlight.

Jimin nearly lost his footing at the rush of it all, the smell going straight to his head where he thought of home and comfort and love. It smelled like love, and holding Taehyung’s hand in the dead of night with the wind tearing at his face and his body drowned in the boy’s clothes felt like what love was supposed to feel like.

Jimin knew that’s what it was. Had known for a while. It had never really been anything else.

Their stop was at the skatepark where they had wasted the summer away, a hollowed out land of cement that looked desolate and empty bathed in the night. He didn’t know why Taehyung had taken him there, or what was going on when he found himself being led into the center of the largest bowl in the park, but he trusted Taehyung.

The boy turned to Jimin once they were finally in the center, smiling shyly. “I didn’t think it would be this cold, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Jimin said, squeezing his hand. The action made Tae look down at where they were holding each other, eyes softening.

“No?” He raised his head playfully, blinking slow and pretty through blond hair.

Jimin swallowed. “No.”

“Will you lay down with me then?” Tae asked quietly, already tugging on Jimin’s hands as he made his way to the ground. “Watch the stars with me, Jimin-ah?”

It wasn’t a question of whether he was in love with Taehyung. That had been answered a long time ago, decided after months of wondering how a smile could make his heart hurt, how a touch from Taehyung burned a million times more than a touch from Namjoon or Hoseok. Instead, it was a question of how long it would be until Jimin was too in love.

Until he couldn’t take the way Taehyung looked at him, the way he pressed his face into Jimin’s neck everytime they hugged and held him as they fell asleep. He wondered how much longer he’d be able to handle Tae doing things like this: offering his hand and asking to watch the stars.

Soon.

Jimin knew it would be soon.

“Can I ask you something?”

Taehyung turned his head to look at Jimin, back already sprawled out across the concrete with his hair fanned around him like a halo. He was more than beautiful, more than perfect, long slender fingers tracing the underside of Jimin’s wrist like he could tell the boy’s question held weight.

His eyebrows pulled together with worry, a silent look passing between them. Tae still managed to smile.

“What?” He laughed, eyes sparkling, and Jimin didn’t know why but it hurt. It hurt just to look at him.

“Who was the friend you lost?” The recognition on Tae’s face was immediate, a battling mix of shock and fear that made Jimin shudder and press closer, push harder, refusing to let him escape. He held him to the ground with a firm hand on his chest, eyes impossibly sad when he whispered expectantly, “the one you loved?”

“Yoongi told you.”

Jimin could feel Taehyung’s heart beating through his chest, pounding underneath burning skin. The cold from before had been leached from their bodies and now they were roiling in warmth, their faces closer than they should be.

Jimin studied his expression, nervous for the kind of Taehyung his words would ignite. The boy had gotten frustrated with Jimin before, angry enough to spout words and ignore him for hours, but this was different. This was the one secret he’d kept from Jimin, and that alone was enough to make him fear it.

“He didn’t say anything, just that-”

“Why does it matter?” Tae retorted tiredly, features strewn together with frustration. “It shouldn’t matter. I don’t feel that way anymore.”

Oh.

Jimin stared at him through glassy, mirrored eyes, empty and unblinking.

If only it were that easy for me.

“I’m sorry.” Jimin said.

Taehyung’s face flashed with regret, eyes softening as he moved to grab Jimin’s hand from his chest. “Jimin-”

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” His fingers curled tighter into the boy’s shirt when he realized Tae was trying to reach for him, probably to peel him off and toss him away.

Jimin sucked in a harsh breath, the sound bitter and echoed in the blistering cold. “You have to stay with me, no matter what, okay?”

Taehyung slowly covered Jimin’s hand with his own, chest moving fast, cheeks frosted pink. He didn’t push him away like Jimin thought he would, but rather squeezed his palm and dragged him closer until Jimin’s fingers were grazing the seam of his lips, the tremble in them stilling abruptly when they felt the warmth of Tae’s breath.

And then, gently, like he was terrified and fearless all at once, he pressed a kiss to Jimin’s fingers. One by one, soft and timid as his eyes fluttered closed. He lingered on Jimin’s pinkie the longest, his lips twitching with a smile.

“Okay.” He said, like it was the easiest thing in the world to agree to, and Jimin shook his head furiously.

It wasn’t enough. He needed to hear Taehyung promise him. Needed to hear that he understood, wouldn’t dare leave him when the time came, because Tae might have gone through the same heartbreak, but that didn’t mean he’d forgive Jimin for ruining what they had.

“Even if I fuck up,” Jimin demanded, sounding delirious, Taehyung’s eyes on him worrisome. “Even if I do something you don’t like, please- you have to stay.”

Taehyung had a million words just waiting on his tongue, clamped tight on the crisp of his lips. He was caught somewhere between wonderment and confusion, a very thin line that he walked with great caution, but his eyes were a dead give away, crinkling up and smiling before his cheeks even rose to follow, and Jimin knew that for at least one more moment, he still had Taehyung.

“I’m not going anywhere, Jimin-ah.” The boy said, grinning, and Jimin felt himself slip for the final time when Taehyung pressed one more kiss to his frozen knuckles.

Time began to crack, heart splitting open where it could only go so long wounded and bleeding. Jimin felt as though his entire chest was giving in, expanding to great beyonds just to be able to take in all that Taehyung was, and he knew it wouldn’t last. His body couldn’t take his efforts being met with nothingness.

The stars grew less interesting the longer they watched them, the gleam of them incomparable to Taehyung who started telling stories to a bleary eyed Jimin, his hands extended out into the air above him like he was being compelled to act out every word, every emotion.

He was moving through the dark and shining with the moon, eyes like softened crystals when he’d turn his head and smile at Jimin as he spoke, wanting to see him, always watching for the way his friend’s face would change.

I’m in love with you, Jimin spoke inwardly, chanting it like a curse. I’m so in love with you.

The longer he thought it, the more he believed he could say it, open his mouth and bloom with honesty for once. But Taehyung pulled away from him before he could take that leap, climbing up from the ground with a groan, hands rubbing at his back.

He stared off into the distance for a moment or two, the wind blowing past him, oblivious to the angel they grazed on their way. Jimin looked at his figure from the ground and saw nothing but a collection of shadows, the shape of him too murky to wade his hand through.

“I wanna take you somewhere.” He said suddenly, his voice calm but loud as though the idea had rocketed out of him the second it was formed.

Jimin blinked slowly, unsure whether his chest could take much more. “We are somewhere.”

“Yes, but a different somewhere. Just one more. The first somewhere that was ours.” Taehyung said, finally turning towards Jimin again, and it was then that the shadows returned back to color, his boxy smile an abrupt flash in the pitch dark.

It was always so easy for Jimin to follow that smile, and this time he found that it led him to an all too familiar road and tree line that made memories appear every which way, knocking at his temples, thumping in his chest.

It had been so long.

“It’s been a while hasn't it?” Tae asked as he climbed his way into the train car, the material of his pajamas flapping in the wind. He turned back to the entrance with a smile, extending out a hand, “I’ve got you.”

Jimin didn’t bother mentioning he could get into the car on his own just fine. He didn’t bring up that he knew Taehyung knew this as well, and had no reason to grab Jimin’s hand and help him up into the train the way he did, his touch lingering on Jimin’s lower back for a beat too long.

Jimin drew away quickly, wrapping his arms around himself when he felt a shiver wrack down his spine.

“Are you warm enough?”

He was always so quick to pick up on the little things. The seemingly insignificant things that would never even register to anyone else. It was a mystery how he hadn’t figured out Jimin’s feelings all on his own yet.

“M’fine.” Jimin said, retreating to the corner of the car where it was farthest from the wind, a pile of blankets waiting for him.

Taehyung lingered by the door as Jimin sat down, back pressed against the wall. Tae looked uncertain all of a sudden, cowering in his own body, shoulders hunched forward in a way that made him look so much smaller than he was.

“We don’t have to stay long, I just thought… it’s been so long since we’ve been able to come here,” He spoke softly, reminiscent and saddened by something Jimin couldn’t yet understand. “I miss how things were back then.”

In a way, it had always been difficult for Jimin. Even in the beginning he could tell Taehyung was the kind of boy who was far too easy to fall in love with, and it made a sense of dread appear in his chest practically the second he met him. There were always warnings, he was mindful and careful more than he wasn’t, but the result hadn’t changed. He’d gone and fallen in love exactly the way he had feared he would.

It had never been easy, but even Jimin could understand what Taehyung meant. There were less complications in the beginning, less moments where friendship seemed like a terrifying understatement to what they really were. It had been the two of them escaping the world, outrunning time, and now… it was just different.

Taehyung closed one of the train doors when the cold finally became too much, the rusted screech of it making Jimin’s heart beat faster in anticipation, in fear. Then, he moved to the opposite side of the car to close the other entrance, leaving only a sliver of light that had Jimin squinting in the darkness just to try and see him, gauge where he was to calm the patter in his chest.

Jimin felt him before he saw him, warmth curling into his side, resting against his shoulder. He felt a brush of hair against his cheek, the unmistakable prickle in his skin when Tae pressed his nose into the side of Jimin’s neck like he always did when he needed something, wanted Jimin to give in to anything he asked.

Jimin closed his eyes, forced himself to breathe slowly through his nose. It was almost impossible with how fast his heart was beating.

“Are we okay?” Tae whispered, voice small and weak in a way it never was, the flutter of his eyelashes on the underside of Jimin’s jaw making his head foggy.

“What?” He rasped.

“You seem different,” There was a pout to the way he spoke, an adorable petulance that Jimin wasn’t sure how to respond to. “Are you mad at me?”

“No, Tae.”

The younger stiffened when Jimin turned his head away from him, teeth clenched in a brutal grimace. He couldn’t handle being that close, not now. Not when he was barely hanging on as it was.

“Then why are you pulling away from me so much? You never used to do that, it makes me think of…” Jimin stopped breathing at the same time Tae fell deathly silent, the whistling of wind making the train creak around them. Jimin wanted a name. Wanted to know who broke Tae’s heart, but then the boy was talking again, voice breaking with sudden tears as he whimpered, “it makes me think you don’t like me anymore.”

“I have to tell you something.”

Even in the darkness, there was something heartbreaking about how scared Taehyung looked, how much his expression changed when Jimin rolled away from him and stood up loathingly, shrinking in on himself.

“Okay,” Tae said carefully, voice perfectly controlled despite what his eyes portrayed. “Is this about what you said at the park?”

You have to stay with me, no matter what.

“Yes?”

Taehyung frowned. “You don’t seem sure.”

Even if I fuck up. Even if I do something you don’t like.

“I’m not. I’m fucking terrified.” Jimin laughed through the lump in his throat, the sound coming out mangled and ridden with shame.

It was all coming to an end. The great kick to the throat that Jimin had been preparing himself for since forever, since always. Taehyung was something he’d never thought to be attainable, but it still hurt to know they were finally here.

You have to stay with me.

“Why? You know you can tell me anything, Jimin-ah.” He assured, with a voice so low and mesmerizing it had Jimin’s vision bursting with tears, swirling with darkness and sorrow rather than comfort.

“Not this,” Jimin blabbered, so incoherent it was embarrassing, face blooming with color. “This is different.”

“Jimin,” It took two hands pressing over the skin of his cheeks for Jimin to realize Taehyung had even stood up in the first place, his face close enough to admire, lips close enough to kiss. “Look at me- hey, just breathe for a second. Relax.”

How could he relax? This was probably the closest he was ever going to see Tae, the last time he’d feel his hands touch him so shamelessly, without thought or reason. This was it, and Jimin didn’t know if he could handle the world on his own. He didn’t know if he could walk back out of this- out of Taehyung- unscathed.

He forced himself out of Taehyung’s hands, convinced it was for the last time.

“You’ll hate me,” He said, a pained hiss through his teeth that made Taehyung’s eyes waver. “You’re gonna fucking hate me, Tae- and I c-can’t have you hate me for this.”

“For what?”

“For wanting you.” He heaved, and the wind around him blew, rattled, shaking the world.

Jimin opened his mouth to say something, anything, wanting to take it back. But then Taehyung was advancing on him and reaching for his face with shaky hands before he could utter a word, pressing Jimin to the wall and asking, very delicately, “what did you say?”

Jimin’s face crumpled at the expression that took over Taehyung’s face, heart breaking without even understanding what it was he saw there. A sense of wonderment, maybe? Or amazement? Confusion? He looked like he was having a moment of realising something very precious.

Then, inexplicably, Jimin started to cry. Shuddering through heavy gulps of air that made Taehyung let go of him and watch in shock as Jimin slid to his knees, hands reaching for his own face.

For a moment, Jimin thought he’d already given up. Taehyung didn’t move for a few seconds, seemingly frozen in place, but when he snapped back to himself it was all in one rush. His body fell forward to crouch in front of Jimin and hold his face in his hands, wiping clumsily at the wetness on the boy’s face as he- as he kissed his forehead.

Jimin froze.

“You should’ve just said something,” Taehyung gasped, sounding broken but relieved at the same time. “You should’ve just said something...”

Jimin shook his head violently, the lips on his skin burning in the worst way. “I’m sorry. God I’m so-”

Taehyung leaned forward desperately, almost like he was looking for a kiss, but he hesitated at the last second and had Jimin gasping into the emptiness, their eyes meeting. He looked at Jimin for a long, blazing moment, something in his gaze crumbling.

Their lips brushed, timid and gentle like the world would break if they pressed any closer.

Let it break.

“Don’t be sorry. Please, please don’t ever be sorry for this.” Taehyung’s smile was translucent, nothing but pure white light that set Jimin’s heart ablaze. “You like me? You really like me, Jimin-ah?”

“More. It’s more than that.” Jimin said weakly, seeing the hope and reaching for it blindly, wanting the lies gone. His eyebrows knitted together with want, a noise spilling past his throat as he nudged closer, asking without speaking. “I... Tae, I-”

Taehyung leaned in before he could finish, their foreheads already touching, noses together. All he needed was to move just a little more, tilt his head just right, and the fire in Jimin flared into something deeper.

Everything fell silent around them and Taehyung's lips were just as soft as they'd always looked, now pressed to Jimin’s own. Taehyung’s breath hitched ever so slightly against Jimin's mouth, still scared even then of being wrong, mistaking all of this, and the sweetness of it made Jimin soar. Made him press closer and chase the taste of Tae with his tongue.

His lips parted beautifully for Jimin in response, recovering with ease as though they’d done this countless times before, and together, they came closer and closer, a little wet, a little hungry, meeting again and again until the need for air became too overwhelming to ignore.

And it was just like this, that the world kick-started into sweet, slow motion.

“Me too. Fuck, Jimin, me too.” Tae said, all of it spilling out in one big breath. The exhaustion in his own voice made him smile, shy and gorgeous with his rosy cheeks plumping up. “You really didn’t know?”

Jimin coughed out a laugh, incredulous when he shook his head. “How long?”

“Uh,” Taehyung searched Jimin’s eyes nervously, teeth catching on his bottom lip. Jimin didn’t bother hiding the way he stared. “Since the beginning?” He let out a squeak when he saw the way Jimin’s eyes widened, hands raising innocently. “All I know is that it feels like forever. I’ve loved you since forever.”

And… Jimin couldn’t process it. Any of it. It was all some elaborate lie or tormenting dream, because Taehyung couldn’t have possibly been saying those things. Or feeling those things. Or wanting Jimin half as much as Jimin wanted him. That had never even been an option in Jimin’s mind, not in the same way heartbreak was.

“What?” Jimin demanded eventually, earning a bratty eye roll that had him pinching Tae’s cheek with a smile.

“You seriously don’t know how cute you are, Park Jimin. It’s a shame.” Taehyung sighed dreamily, deeming that to be the only explanation worth giving, and Jimin leaned up to kiss him just to keep his heart from rising to his throat.

If there was still any reason for Jimin to believe he was dreaming, it all vanished the moment Taehyung melted forward into the pull of his mouth, hands nervous where they slowly slid over Jimin’s knees. He squeezed there lightly, an anxious little falter that had Jimin inhaling sharply, the butterflies in his stomach telling him to believe. Give in.

There was something about the way Taehyung smiled into the kiss that rendered Jimin weak and screwed to all hell, his head going completely blank and foggy when he felt a nip of teeth on his bottom lip, the warm giggle it caused to spill out over his face paralyzing.

It was also just as exciting to feel the way that smile slowly melted away, the overwhelming giddiness from what was happening being replaced with something much more real, more gripping.

Jimin could tell the moment Taehyung truly let go of how they’d gotten there and relished in where they were, his mouth moving faster, breaths turning quicker. His impatience became a flashing red light that Jimin could see without even opening his eyes, and his body finally began to stir to life when Taehyung pushed himself up on his knees to slide his way into Jimin’s lap.

Jimin pulled away in surprise, their mouths disconnecting with a wet sound.

He looked at Taehyung carefully, eyes filled with questions. “Is this-”

“Keep going,” Tae panted, already so out of breath, so beautiful with his lips tinted red and his throat shimmering in the moonlight. “Just- please don’t stop.” He rolled his hips ever so slightly against Jimin’s, testing, and the way his face blossomed with pleasure had Jimin’s cock aching in his jeans.

“Don’t wanna stop.” He mumbled thickly, finally raising his hands to grip the younger boy’s waist, thumbs pressing against his hip bones where he could feel the subtle roll of Taehyung’s body.

The friction was breath stealing, their bodies pressed together nearly everywhere. Jimin could feel how hard Taehyung was even through their clothes, the boy’s pajamas leaving no room to hide, and it probably would have been impossible anyway with how big Taehyung was. Just the outline of his cock had Jimin groaning at the sight, his hips bucking up in response.

He couldn’t believe how affected Taehyung was by him, by a few heated kisses and brushes of skin. Jimin hadn’t even touched him where he needed yet and Taehyung was already gasping and moaning into the space beside Jimin’s head, his arms wrapped around the elder’s neck, body writhing against him.

Jimin had never had something like this before. He’d never had someone so important, desperate and wanton in his arms before, shivering just from having Jimin’s hands glide down their back, brush up under their shirt.

Taehyung practically keened when Jimin’s hands made their way up his stomach, his palms cold but attentive as they raked down his skin, thumbed over the softness around his tummy and the shape of his ribs. Just a brush over the boy’s nipples had him jolting, and Jimin could feel himself losing control, wanting everything.

He didn’t know if there was a way he was supposed to do these things. Whether he was going too fast when he latched himself onto Taehyung’s mouth and guided him down onto the pile of blankets on the floor of the train car, hovering over him with a heat that had Tae staring up at him with glassy eyes, his lips ajar and waiting.

Jimin had never been with anyone who he knew wouldn’t be a quick fuck. He’d only ever dealt with closeted boys who had taken one look at Jimin and decided they could make an exception, just this one time, never again. And he didn’t know what it meant to love someone and want them at the same time, in every way imaginable.

He just knew that right then, with Taehyung arching so sweet and responsive beneath him, skin heating up just for Jimin, this was different than anything he’d ever experienced before.

It actually meant something, and he could feel it. A glow in his chest, a sort of weight lodged into his rib cage that trembled everytime he breathed.

Jimin grazed the top button of Tae’s pajama shirt with nimble fingers, voice soft and caring when he whispered, “this okay?”

Taehyung nodded emphatically, teeth wearing into his bottom lip. “Yes, god- please.” He curved upwards into Jimin’s hand, body moving with a willingness that had Jimin undressing him quicker than he’d meant to.

Taehyung’s shirt got caught somewhere on the way, stopping just above the boy’s elbows, but Jimin couldn’t stand to wait any longer. He loomed over Tae, leading with his mouth on his way to trail wet kisses down the tanned boy’s chest, the tremble in Taehyung’s thighs becoming more obvious the lower Jimin went.

The reaction made Jimin smile.

“On second thought. Maybe we should go back to my house?” Tae offered weakly, in a voice so unnaturally high it made Jimin giggle of all things, earning him a slap to the chest. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“What? You don’t wanna have awesome sex in the middle of the woods?” Jimin teased, leaning down to mouth at the juncture of Taehyung’s neck and shoulder, the shiver he received only making him suck harder.

“Ungh- h-hyung,” It nearly took everything for Jimin to hide just how much his blood boiled at that word alone, breath hitching dangerously close to Tae’s ear. “We don’t have the proper equipment out here.”

Jimin pulled away to stare at him quizzingly, ignoring how debauched Taehyung looked just so he could focus. “Equipment for what?”

“For you to fuck me.”

Taehyung’s words registered so fucking slowly that it took him blushing and breaking eye contact for Jimin to realize exactly what he’d just said, what he’d asked for so blatantly.

Jimin’s hand moved on its own accord, dragging up Tae’s chest to touch his hair, brush his fingers through the strands. Gentle at first, thoughtful about the way he moved a few hairs away from the boy’s eyes, but his grip tightened when he felt Taehyung roll his hips, trying to grind down onto Jimin’s thigh.

“Is that what you want?” Jimin asked, raising Taehyung’s head so that they were looking at each other now, bare and open. “You don’t think it’s too fast?”

Tae ran a hand up the back of Jimin’s neck, urging him closer. “S’what I’ve always wanted,” He forced his hips down against Jimin’s again, agonizingly slow this time. “Please?”

Jimin smiled softly, infinitely warm. “Okay, baby.”

It was almost funny how neither of them made a move to leave, both of them reluctant to stop what they’d already started, to take their hands off each other.

“Fuck.” Taehyung stared at Jimin with open amazement, face turning beat red at the sudden pet name.

“You like that?” Jimin grinned, couldn’t help it really, his stomach twisting into satisfied knots. When Tae simply nodded, gaze bashfully stuck on Jimin’s throat, the elder decided to prod, “you like it when I call you baby? My pretty baby?”

“Jimin-ah,” He whined with embarrassment, smiling so adorably it had Jimin beaming just as wide, nuzzling into the warmth of his cheek lovingly. “You’re being mean.”

“And you’re being cute.” Jimin said, kissing the boy’s temple, running his thumb over the tempting shape of his bottom lip.

He traced Tae’s mouth distractedly, innocent and completely unprepared for the way Tae poked his tongue out and licked Jimin’s thumb with glittery eyes. Jimin hummed as Taehyung took his thumb into the heat of his mouth, eyebrows knitting beautifully when Jimin pressed against the flat of his tongue.

The more Jimin pushed, gently but determinedly guiding his thumb deeper into the boy’s mouth until the lines of his throat were jumping, the hotter Taehyung’s face became. His ears were burning bright beneath his blond hair, air rushing fast and hot through his nose. He was breathtaking, but the sweet timidness in his eyes was what eventually made Jimin pull away.

Taehyung blinked at him with confusion, lips still slick with spit when he pouted. He looked lost, like he was half-tempted to put Jimin’s fingers back in his mouth himself, and the thought made Jimin burst with laughter.

“Why are you laughing?” Tae demanded, suddenly self conscious enough to start scooting away from Jimin, hands covering his face.

Jimin’s laughter grew louder, turning obnoxious and squeaky even as he watched Taehyung whine. He flailed his arms around childishly when Jimin tried to reach for him, pouting stubbornly, but it wasn’t long before they were both dissolving into matching smiles, hands wandering, hearts beating in time.

Jimin pulled him closer once more, situating himself between Tae’s thighs. He pressed a hand to the boy’s cheek, smiling when he felt the embarrassed flush there burn into his palm.

“I didn’t think you’d be so shy in this situation.” Jimin admitted fondly, his gaze strong enough to have Taehyung looking away with a sigh, cheeks puffing up with air.

“Think about this often?” He asked, taunting to try and hide his newly poised blush, but Jimin wasn’t falling for it.

He smiled at him, playing along and enjoying the way Taehyung’s face prickled when he said, “Yes.”

It was enough for Taehyung to forget how he felt for the moment and meet Jimin’s eyes, his undeniable interest outweighing the vulnerability he felt with Jimin seeing him like this, bare chested and straining against his pants, nipples turned hard from the cold.

He let out a calculated breath, attempting to appear less affected than he was when he asked, “What have you thought about?”

To which Jimin stared at him with a complexity that shouldn’t have been possible in that moment, their minds hazy and lax. He looked like he wanted to tease Taehyung some more, be the one to ask him questions with a dangerous glint in his eye.

When the moment dragged on, Tae gave him a pleading look, voice strung tight. “I wanna know.” He insisted, confident, but when Jimin finally spoke up, his hand moving to cup Tae’s hard cock through his pants, Taehyung’s mouth dropped open and that fire in his eyes was stamped out once again.

“I’ve thought about everything, Tae. I’ve thought about kissing you under the gym bleachers,” Jimin’s words grated along the boy’s skin, burnt in the depths of his belly, but the way Jimin’s hand moved along the length of his cock was what had him whimpering, noises loud and embarrassing. “Thought about having you under me. On top of me, anyway you’d let me have you.”

Jimin stared in awe when he noticed a damp spot forming on the outside of Taehyung’s pants, the heat of his cock overwhelming, pulsing against Jimin’s palm. He moaned even louder than Taehyung when he finally pulled the boy’s cock free, breath hitching as he watched it curve heavy and wet over Taehyung’s stomach, the skin an angry red.

Taehyung shivered at the exposure, blanched from the cold, but Jimin was there in an instant, draping his body over Tae’s to kiss him rough and needy.

“I want it all,” Jimin said, allowing himself to imagine how it’d be when he was inside Taehyung. How it would feel to hold Tae down and ride him until he was delirious and dripping. “I want everything with you.”

“Then I’ll give you everything,” Tae rolled his head back obediently when he felt Jimin’s mouth sliding to his neck, canting his hips as Jimin moved lower. “Anything, Jimin please. Want you to be my first. Want you to just- a-ah!”

One firm drag of his tongue up the side of his cock, and Taehyung was writhing, tightening up and crying out as Jimin pressed slobbery kisses down his shaft, lathered him in a coat of saliva that made his hips kick up into Jimin’s face.

Jimin immediately urged him back down with soothing hands, smiling as he pressed a chaste kiss to the inside of one of his thighs. Taehyung shuddered silently, effortlessly beautiful as he swallowed down his bliss, but Jimin was already intrigued. He moved his attention from Taehyung’s cock to his thighs instead, stretching out his hands as wide as possible to palm at the sun kissed flesh and marvel at the way Taehyung groaned, legs spreading willingly.

When Jimin moved his hand back to Tae’s cock, starting a slow, wet rhythm while his mouth stayed attentive and giving on the boy’s thighs, shy Taehyung came back in full force. The pleasure doubled, his vision darkened, and his body moved on its own accord, shaking beneath Jimin’s hands, rising with heat.

He eventually hid his face away when it all became too much, throwing a sweaty arm over his lidded eyes.

“I’m your first?” Jimin asked softly, finally rolling the idea around in his head and loving every second of it, the thought of being the only one. Want you to be my first. “No one’s ever touched you like this, baby?”

Taehyung shook his head cutely, face all red and shiny where he was still hiding under the crest of his arm.

“You look so pretty, Taetae.” Jimin breathed, heart wrenching at the sight, everything inside of him buzzing and throbbing and alive.

Tae keened at the compliment, hands clenching into fists at his sides.

Jimin had never been with someone so sensitive, so responsive to every touch. Taehyung had already been too beautiful for his own good, but this was just unfair. He was making the sweetest noises Jimin had ever heard, alternating between rich, molten moans and pitchy little whimpers, and Jimin knew for a fact that this was going to ruin him.

Rip him apart and stitch him together all at the same time, taint him for anyone else who even dared to try and compare. It was hard to even imagine there being someone after Taehyung. It was unfathomable, and maybe it was odd to think that way at the ripe age of seventeen. Maybe it was naive of him to believe in Taehyung so strongly, in what they had so wholeheartedly that he’d bet all of time and space that this was it for him. That he would never love anyone quite like he loved Taehyung.

Maybe that was true.

But it didn’t stop Jimin from doing exactly that.

“What about you?” Tae panted distractedly, hardly able to speak but trying anyway, voice wrecked. He moved up so that he was leaning back on his elbows, eyes turning dark with awe as he watched himself fuck up into Jimin’s fist. “Have you- I mean, you seem like you know what you’re doing- fuck.”

His head bowed back with a groan when Jimin finally took him fully in his mouth, baring his throat and clenching his jaw for a sight that had Jimin moaning as well, eyes screwing shut as he forced himself lower.

Jimin barely even slowed when Taehyung bumped the back of his throat, his breathing turning slow and heavy, but Tae whimpered out a hasty please that made Jimin reach for his hand blindly, their fingers lacing together beside the younger’s hip.

Taehyung squeezed his palm desperately, needing that anchor, needing Jimin, and it only made Jimin work harder. Move faster, spit dribbling past his lips and down his chin as he sucked Taehyung’s cock and held his hand fiercely, drinking in his moans with every one of his senses.

Jimin pulled away slowly, the wet squelch of his lips popping off the head of Taehyung’s cock making the younger’s hips twitch, chasing that same gripping heat.

“I have.” Jimin said, the bite of his voice hot and dangerous now that his throat was raw. Tae shivered at the sound, the head of his cock dripping more precum onto the softness of his tummy. “It’s... never been like this though. You’re the only one that’s ever mattered to me.”

“Jimin-ah…” Something in Taehyung’s eyes melted right there in front of Jimin, just for him to see, and Jimin thought that maybe if he’d been a little braver, hoped a little harder, then he would have gotten to see it much sooner.

He would have felt the same rupture in his heart that he did now, and realize that maybe happiness really was something you could lose and find again, over and over.

It was easy for Jimin to wish the agony of it all had been dealt with sooner, the pining put to an end. But at the same time, he thought this way was perfect too, how they’re feelings had been admitted through hushed little whispers in the quiet of the train car, where all of their secrets used to go.

Jimin knew it fit them more than anything else.

“M’ so-” Tae exhaled shakily through his words, face twisting up with sentiment that immediately made Jimin crawl up his body to touch him, eyes soft and brimming as he watched Taehyung’s lips curl. “M’ so glad I met you.”

Taehyung broke when Jimin leaned down and kissed him, lips dancing over his drooping eyelids, skimming the shape of his mouth, “I’m so glad you’re mine.”

“Yours,” Jimin echoed, baring his soul and drowning in it. “Always have been.”

There was a new sense of desperation that wracked Tae’s body when Jimin took him in hand again, thick fingers rubbing down the length of his cock with purpose now, a need to give. The wind had Tae shivering, the metal doors of the car rattling, but it was Jimin’s tongue at his slit that made him gasp, teeth baring as his breath went ragged.

“I’m gonna come already if you don’t stop.” He warned, letting out a flustered laugh that made Jimin smile into the heat of his skin.

“Then come,” He said, moving his hand faster, pretty with the way he blinked up at Tae and whispered, “I’ll make you come again once I’m inside you.”

It was there, with moonlight splashed along the curve of his throat, hands sweaty and strained where they dove into the black of Jimin’s hair and pulled- that Tae came with a blissful groan, the muscles in his stomach springing with shadows as he shook.

And it was there, that Jimin fell in love all over again.

……

Jimin was only given enough time to step inside the room and toe off his shoes before Taehyung was pushing him back up against his bedroom door the moment they were alone, his smile adorably nervous in comparison to his hands that made their way to Jimin’s waist eagerly.

“I wanna kiss you.” He whispered, pulling at Jimin’s hips until he was arching off the door, eyes glued to the boy’s mouth with a neediness that had Jimin giggling softly.

He slid his way closer, nuzzling his nose against Tae’s daringly. “Then kiss me.”

With just that small guidance, Taehyung lurched forward and pressed his lips to Jimin’s, erasing the smile there with a flick of tongue that had Jimin rising on his toes to get closer, hands curling into the front of his pajama shirt that they’d been forced to button back up much to Jimin’s discontent.

Taehyung reached his hands around and grabbed Jimin’s ass to press them flush together, both of them rutting up into the other on instinct. Taehyung was there to swallow the broken moan Jimin let slip, drinking the gorgeous sound in with both his heart and tongue.

Jimin had been hard for what felt like hours, his body so wired up that even the fifteen minute walk to Taehyung’s house hadn’t been enough to calm him down. His skin was vibrating, every touch flaring straight down to his gut, wrapping around his heart where it kicked and squeezed. Just the subtle grind of Taehyung’s pelvis into the tent in his jeans had him thumping back against the door, already half out of his mind.

He dragged Tae back with a hand in his hair, chest aching as he gasped, “Taehyung-ie, f-fuck that’s good.”

“You’re wearing too many clothes, Jimin-ah,” Tae’s voice was a low, darkened grumble, thick and sugary rich, the tone of it strong enough to make Jimin’s eyes roll back as he felt hands dip up under his shirt. “Let me see you.”

Jimin was still wearing Taehyung’s jacket. This shitty, tattered old slab of leather that had probably been sweated through more than it had been washed, and shouldn’t have mattered as much as it did. But there was something alit in Taehyung’s eyes as he peeled the jacket off Jimin’s body fast and swift, something that made sparks shoot all the way down to Jimin’s fingertips, the feeling sinking to his toes.

Jimin wondered what Taehyung had been thinking when he’d put that jacket on him. If he had any idea where the night would lead them. How the cold would leave Jimin’s bones not because of the warmth of his jacket, but because of the searing grip of his hands burning memories into Jimin’s bony hips.

“You’ll get this back,” Taehyung smiled as he dropped the jacket to the floor beside them, his eyes never leaving Jimin’s. “Promise.”

Jimin could feel the blush that rose to his cheeks, but he was entirely too endeared to really care, let alone be embarrassed. Especially when it seemed to make Taehyung happy; the boy made sure to kiss anywhere the rosy hue reached once he noticed it, lips moving fast and teasing over Jimin’s entire face before finally retracing back to the very beginning.

He slotted his lip’s perfectly with Jimin’s, his breathing smooth and deep and wonderfully content. Hands gentle but firm as they cradled Jimin’s jaw and tipped him forward towards his mouth, making him meet him halfway for each and every push and pull. Both of them colliding again and again, each time turning Jimin into a weaker mess, a deeper love sick idiot.

It was a laugh that eventually tore them apart, Jimin unable to contain his amusement with the way Taehyung was continuously tugging at the hem of his shirt, wanting it gone but too afraid to do it himself.

Jimin reached down and pulled his shirt over his head gracelessly, face popping back out with crinkled eyes and a smile.

“Anything else you want?” He asked teasingly, raising his eyebrows at a Taehyung who wasn’t at all paying attention to the words falling out of his mouth.

“Yes,” Tae said stupidly, before he seemed to register his own voice and clamp his mouth shut. He reached out and touched, lip caught between his own teeth as he dragged his hand down the riveted muscles of Jimin’s abdomen. “You’re beautiful… god, this is unfair.”

Jimin snorted out a laugh. “Shut up.”

“How the fuck do you look like this?”

“Tae.”

“What,” Taehyung deadpanned, disregarding Jimin’s embarrassment and using both hands to touch now, too blown away with wonder to care about how bluntly he dragged his nails down Jimin’s skin. “I mean, I knew you were fit but fuck-”

It only took Jimin guiding them away from the door with a hand to his chest for Tae to stop talking. He stared down at Jimin with wide, pretty eyes, lips parted as he waited and wondered, anticipating what Jimin planned to do next.

It made Jimin want to both kiss and devour him at the same time.

“Don’t you think it’s rude to make me stand here with my shirt off when yours is still on?” Jimin flashed a cheeky smile when he saw Tae’s face drop ever so slightly, panic sinking into his chest for the briefest second before finding its way back out.

“You didn’t take your clothes off back in the train car.” He pointed out, clearly thinking he’d won this time around, but Jimin was quicker with these sorts of things.

Snappier, fast on his feet when it came to thinking and saying with nothing in between. And he found it more than a little amusing how entranced Tae looked when Jimin pushed him to sit at the edge of his bed, fingers trailing up the line of his pretty pretty neck to sink fingers into the back of his hair.

He was enraptured and locked down, infatuated by every move Jimin made, every brush of skin, and in the end it was exactly what made it so satisfying to tug the boy’s head back by his hair and whisper, “Yeah, and I also wasn’t the one who got to come.”

“Shit.” Tae groaned, closing his eyes at a wave of unexpected pleasure. Jimin’s fingers tightened, pulled taunt right at the scalp, and he couldn’t help the way he whimpered pathetically.

Of course Jimin noticed.

“Hmm,” Jimin tilted his head with a curl to his lips, downright gleeful as he gave Tae’s hair a firm pull and watched his body erupt with shivers. “That’s interesting.”

“Shut up,” Tae whined, face already becoming that petal pink hue from the train car again, features tightening up. “You’re taking too… too long.”

“Too long for what?” Jimin questioned pointedly, knowing the kind of Taehyung he’d get by asking, and the response was immediate; golden, sun kissed skin grew warm under Jimin’s gaze, eyelashes fluttering distractedly. “What is it you want?”

Taehyung squirmed for a moment instead of answering, hands sliding up Jimin’s arms to squeeze at his biceps, smiling at the frailness of his shoulders. Jimin was so distracted by the loving touches that he nearly missed the way Tae guided him closer to the bed and started subtly grinding against his thigh.

Jimin wordlessly grabbed the boy's hip to help, rolling him forward hard enough against the muscle of his thigh to have him choking back a moan.

“You gotta use your words, baby.” Jimin encouraged, his own cock stirring at the sight of Taehyung hardening in his pants fast and sudden.

“Come on, it’s embarrassing. You know don’t you?” Tae pouted, shaky and flushed enough to start panting when he grabbed Jimin’s hand and slowly moved it down to his crotch.

Their eyes met darkly when Jimin palmed him through his pants testingly, Tae’s gaze more shiny and fucked out than anything, skin erupting in goosebumps that made Jimin coo and lean down to kiss him.

Taehyung moaned straight into his mouth, forward and desperate. The noise only got higher when Jimin sucked at his tongue, drawing the moment out and flinching when he felt Tae slide his own hand between their bodies to hover over Jimin’s.

Tae smiled shyly against the plush of Jimin’s mouth before urging his hand even lower, pushing until Jimin’s fingers were brushing between his cheeks and over his hole.

“Gonna need more than that, sorry.” Jimin laughed, but there was a sudden heaviness to his voice that hadn’t been there before, lungs completely clogged with lust and disbelief.

He knew what Tae wanted. It wasn’t hard to figure out with how forward he’d been earlier in the train car. With how direct he was being now, forcing Jimin to prod at him through his pants, the tips of his fingers creating enough pressure against his entrance to have Tae whimpering. But god was it fun to tease the boy, drag him along just to watch him struggle and writhe with blushing cheeks and bitten lips, unable to voice what he wanted without melting under Jimin’s hands.

Taehyung’s hips jumped with a whine, frustration digging into the line of his brow. He cupped Jimin’s hand tighter, forcing his fingers to push harder, prodding right up against where he needed most. The feeling was all encompassing heat, a tightness that had to be filled, and through the silky thinness of his pajama pants, Jimin’s fingers were right there.

Right there but not close enough.

“Wanna feel you inside of me,” Taehyung breathed, continuously rubbing Jimin’s fingers over his hole, his eyes never leaving the elder’s face. “Stretching me open, hyung. Please?”

Jimin made a pained groan at the back of his throat, eyes darkening ruthlessly. Taehyung was going to fucking kill him by the end of this. His ability to go from shy and precious to sexy and desperate was throwing Jimin off, making him the flustered one.

And that word again. Hyung. Moaned so prettily for him.

Jimin could feel the blush that had surfaced high in his cheeks, and it made him stutter as he laughed, “Fuck, that- that’s better. Jesus. Do you have lube?”

Taehyung smiled and gestured vaguely towards his nightstand. “I was totally right.”

Jimin turned back to him once he’d retrieved the small bottle of lube from the drawer. “Huh? Right about what?”

“You like when I call you hyung, you pervert.”

There wasn’t even a chance for Jimin to deny the accusation. His body lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree, cheeks burning, eyes flashing, the white of his teeth coming forward in an embarrassed smile.

“S’not my fault you say it like that.” He said quietly, shrugging.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m already fucking you.” The air left Taehyung’s lungs just like that, face blooming with the sort of shock that had his pupils pulsing as well, ears turning warm. Jimin couldn’t wait anymore. “Clothes off.”

It would have been amusing how fast Tae’s hands moved to the buttons of his shirt if Jimin wasn’t so turned on. The boy worked lightning fast, revealing a new sliver of golden skin with each button, fingers long and nimble.

The sight of Tae’s bare chest still made Jimin’s heart squeeze.

When Tae threw his shirt to the floor and made no move to continue, Jimin thumbed at the waistband of his bottoms. “Pants too.”

Taehyung looked down at himself, and blinked up at Jimin with a pout. “Your pants are still on.”

Jimin stared at him for a long moment, a little incredulous, slightly confused, but then Taehyung’s face split into this massive dorky grin, and Jimin had never felt more at ease. Laugher worked well with them. Fit into everything that they were, and to Jimin it felt like there was really no other way.

This was how it was supposed to be. The two of them half naked and laughing into tension soaked air, stifling their enormous smiles into each other’s skin.

“You’re fucking unbelievable.” Jimin demanded, hardly able to see with how wide he was smiling.

Taehyung pulled him down and giggled into the side of his cheek, wanting a kiss but unable to function without bursting into laughter. “Am not.”

“Insufferable actually.” Jimin corrected, finally crawling onto the bed and guiding Taehyung to lay down on his back.

The boy looked up at him with mirth dancing in his eyes, a weighted sort of fondness that punched Jimin right in the throat and made perfect sense when he whispered, “You love me.”

And suddenly the joke was lost, and the teasing was pointless, and all that was left was Jimin’s heart and how all of it belonged to Taehyung. Every bruised piece of it, and with the way Tae was looking up at him, smile gone, eyes heavy, he thought maybe Taehyung knew what he was going to say, even before he said it.

Jimin nodded, his smile reaching his eyes. “I love you.” He echoed simply, agreeing wholeheartedly, and somehow, being able to feel the way Taehyung’s hands tightened around his waist in response felt more gripping than their lips meeting together once again.

This kiss was spine tingling, building up a warmth that had them scooting up the bed blindly and peeling off the rest of their clothes, but Jimin could only focus on Tae’s hands. The strength of them fleeting, there one minute, clutching at Jimin’s shoulder blades as the elder nipped at the curve of his Adam’s apple, and then gone the next. Fingertips trailing, grip weakened by chilling moans and shuddering pleasure, the marks on his collarbones seeming to appear out of nowhere.

“Jimin,” He gasped, hands moving to the elder’s arms now, resting there as Jimin sucked another dark bruise at the top of his chest. “Careful with… don’t want people to see.”

“They won’t,” Jimin assured, breathless and hot to the touch as he slid his way down the boy’s chest. “They won’t, baby, I promise. They’re just for me.”

Taehyung nodded, features contorted beautifully. “Just you.”

There was a shiver that rippled Taehyung’s body when Jimin flicked open the bottle of lube, the alarming snap of it loud in their ears. He tensed up for the briefest moment, eyes closing nervously, but the softest brush of Jimin’s hand on his inner thigh and he was parting his legs willingly, bottom lip bitten and bruised.

“I’m gonna go slow, Tae. If you need me to stop or do something different just tell me. Don’t feel like you have to-”

Taehyung quieted him with a kiss of all things, the lingering presence of a smile tickling Jimin’s lips. He pulled away soon after, too soon, but his hand was there to replace the cold, smoothing over Jimin’s cheek.

He thumbed at the light scab there, the swelling gone, the purple and blue replaced with a blushing red. It was nearly healed, but the memory of it was what hurt, what stayed as a persistent reminder of who they were and what they had gone through to get here.

To get each other.

Taehyung gave him a dashing smile. “I’m gonna be fine. You’re gonna be so good for me, Jimin-ah. I just know it.”

Jimin visibly relaxed at Taehyung’s words, a sigh leaving him as Tae kissed the corner of his mouth, moved his way up to do the same between Jimin’s eyebrows. A part of Jimin figured he should be the one comforting Tae, but the truth was that they had always comforted each other. And Jimin needed his guidance even now.

Everything seemed to finally zero in once Jimin slicked up his fingers and had a fingertip prodding at Taehyung’s entrance, the wonderful absurdity of it all striking him right in the chest. He exhaled shakily, breathed Taehyung in, and carefully pushed one finger inside, breaching the tight muscle and hissing at the warmth.

Taehyung moaned more from shock than anything, body rising with the movement as Jimin sunk deeper, slid in hot and slow. His eyes fluttered closed, mouth dropping open around a silent cry.

“Oh, fuck.”

Jimin stilled, worry flaring up in his eyes where he turned to look at Tae’s face. “You okay?”

“Wha- why? Why did you stop?” He panted incredulously, looking at Jimin with a heat that drove him mad, made his cock twitch in response.

Taehyung looked down at where they were connected, licked his lips, moved his hand lower-

“Tae,” Jimin threw a hand out to hold himself up the second Taehyung found a grip around his cock, his balance tipping as white flashed behind his eyes. “You can’t…”

“I can’t?” Tae repeated, teasing. He moved his hand faster, relishing in the high pitched moan Jimin let out, the head of his cock a drooling, leaking mess in his palm. “Why can’t I?”

Jimin would have smacked him across the face for being an asshole if he could’ve, but he was far too busy just trying to keep himself upright, the bouts of pleasure in his gut sending flames throughout the rest of his body. He was trembling, panting, squirming from just Taehyung’s hand, the hours of barely being stimulated rushing back to him.

“Cause’ I’m…” Jimin sucked in a panicked breath, feeling his orgasm nearing so quickly it was terrifying. He grabbed Tae by the wrist and pinned his arm down to the bed beside his head. “I’m… sensitive. Jesus.”

Taehyung stared up at him with wide eyes, barely blinking. Then, without warning, he started laughing, forcing Jimin to roll his eyes and pull away from him with an annoyed groan.

“Fuck, I’m sorry I just- wasn’t expecting that,” He smiled, covering his face with a hand as he willed himself to calm down. Jimin still had a finger in his ass for fuck’s sake. “How do you expect to last inside of me if you can’t even handle a hand job?”

Jimin glared at him.

Very good question.

“Out of sheer, unadulterated, willpower.” Jimin said, expression deadly serious, and then they were both having to stifle their laughter, their smiles glowing in the dark.

“Let’s see you do it then,” Tae grinned mischievously, encouraging Jimin with a lift of his hips, effectively burying Jimin’s finger deeper into him. His smile wavered. “Mmh, come on.”

Mesmerized by Taehyung’s eagerness, Jimin eased his finger forward until it was completely inside the boy, the tight grip of his walls clenching more and more the deeper he went. When Jimin curled his finger, Taehyung’s body went fluid, arching beautifully around a hiccuped gasp that he immediately suppressed by brutally biting his lip.

Things were easy after that. Time bleeding into nothing but movement and breathing and the rapid beating of their hearts, a little messy, not in sync, but frantic when pressed together. The drag and pull of Jimin’s fingers was too overwhelming for either of them to form words. Both of them entranced in their own ways, Taehyung trembling by the time Jimin worked up to three fingers, Jimin barely hanging on with the sight he was given: Taehyung spread out and split open on the thickness of his fingers, the stretched opening of his rim giving and taking so prettily it was breath seizing.

“So good, Tae,” Jimin marveled lowly, deadly focused on how Taehyung’s features rippled when he prodded at his prostate. Melted as he pulled back. “You’re doing so good for me. Taking my fingers so well, baby.”

“Hyung, m’ ready,” He panted, scrambling for Jimin’s shoulders, rocking back down on his hand desperately. “I need more, please.”

Jimin nodded vehemently, never more prepared to give than he was in that moment. Taehyung’s words were all he needed to pull his fingers out and stare as the boy’s hole fluttered and gaped around nothing, desperate to be filled again.

Jimin reached for one of Taehyung’s pillows up by the bed frame, bringing it under Tae’s hips.

“This will make the angle feel more comfortable for you.” Jimin explained, noticing Taehyung’s confusion.

Taehyung blushed sweetly, smile shy and endeared as he let Jimin shimmy the pillow underneath him. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Jimin said, and on his way to crawl between Taehyung’s legs, he finally realized what he was missing...

Shit.

“What’s wrong?” Tae asked gently, noticing Jimin’s falter with worried eyes. He placed a hand on the boy’s jaw when he didn’t answer immediately, the tension there unsettling. “Jimin?”

“I don’t suppose you have a condom do you?” He asked under his breath, frustrated with himself more than anything, already expecting Tae’s answer, but all the younger boy did was grin.

Without saying a word, Taehyung twisted his body and leaned over the bed. He was carelessly loud as he rummaged through the top drawer of his nightstand, and plucked a condom out from underneath a roll of bubble tape.

He presented it to Jimin with a playful smile, tongue caught between his teeth. “Will this work?”

Jimin raised his eyebrows. “How do you-”

“Yoongi-hyung gave me a few a while back,” He adverted his eyes with reddened ears, toying with the packaging nervously. “He thought I had a chance,” Tae let out a sigh when he saw Jimin’s confusion, voice growing even smaller, “with you, I mean.”

“Oh,” Jimin nearly swallowed his own tongue, heart jumping. Tae had talked to Yoongi about him? “What did he say… exactly?”

“You’re mad.” Tae pointed out nervously, eyes flitting over Jimin’s.

“I’m not mad.”

“You totally are, god,” He slapped a hand over his face with a grimace, forehead still shiny with sweat. “I didn’t know what else to do, Jimin. I was scared and in love with your dumb ass and I didn’t have anyone else to talk to.”

Jimin squinted at him. “Okay, so you talked, and he… got you condoms?”

“Well, yeah,” Tae said. “He thought maybe you felt the same for me.”

Jimin took the condom from Taehyung’s hands to inspect the wrapper, coughing out a laugh. “I see he expected you to be the top.”

In a panic, Tae snatched the condom back from Jimin to read the labeling. Jimin could tell the moment he saw the enormous XL stamped on the front, his eyes going abnormally wide.

“Oh my god, that bony ass little-”

“It’s fine,” Jimin laughed, purely amused by the entire thing. “Give it here.”

Taehyung seemed embarrassed then, frowning as Jimin opened the condom, but his face peaked with interest when Jimin finally rolled the latex over his length.

The fit wasn’t bad at all, not in the way Taehyung had been expecting. There was a little extra room at the head of Jimin’s cock, loose where it wouldn’t be if Taehyung was wearing it, but where Jimin lacked in length he made up for in girth, and the condom fit him perfectly all the rest of the way down his cock.

“I, uh,” Taehyung swallowed thickly, a nervous laugh ripping out of him. “I think Yoongi-hyung underestimated you.”

“Can we stop talking about hyung?” Jimin sighed, thumbing at the blush on Taehyung’s cheeks, his gaze warm and loving despite his request. “This isn’t about him. He didn’t get us together, we did that on our own.”

Jimin hadn’t really meant for it to come out so bluntly, his distaste at the thought of Yoongi- or anyone for that matter, having a hand in what him and Tae had been through. But there was a sense of honesty in it all the same, the sincerity of it making his grip on Tae tighten, the weight in his gaze everlasting.

There was nothing more to Tae and Jimin then exactly that. Tae and Jimin. They hadn’t met through friends, or through school, or through anyone but themselves, by complete and utter chance. Their story was a test of time and patience and longing, happiness a far away miniscule of an idea that hadn’t seemed all that possible in the beginning.

Oh how things were different now.

They had grown, and they had learned, and through all of it they had loved. Loved one another so helplessly, so wholly that they hadn’t even known what to do but suffer in silence and wait, hoping the universe turned out to be in their favor.

Jimin figured they had waited long enough.

It was only natural that Jimin linked his hand with Taehyung’s before lathering his cock with lube and lining up to his entrance, their fingers slotting together beside Tae’s head, the contrast of them beautifully different, wonderfully imperfect. Tan and white, toned and smooth, the way they collided otherworldly all on its own.

Taehyung let out a single cry at the feeling of Jimin breaching his rim, head rearing back against the pillow, the tendons in his throat jumping to attention. There was a gorgeous furrow to his brows as Jimin slid in nice and slow, an expression Jimin couldn’t look away from, a blissed out headiness in his eyes that he met dead on once he was bottomed out and gasping for air.

“Tae,” He said weakly, bursting with heat, with bliss, with something. There was a word for it somewhere but god he couldn’t even think. “Fuck… you feel so-”

“Good,” He gasped, speaking for him, meeting Jimin half way. “S’ good, Jimin-ah. So fucking full, nngh-” A brush of movement and Taehyung was breathing in a gulp of air, jolting back into the bedsheets as if he was struck.

Jimin stared as he writhed and moaned, thighs shaking violently enough to have his legs slipping from Jimin’s waist. When Tae surfaced again, he came back with tears in his eyes.

“Am I hurting you?” Jimin asked anxiously, moving to pull back, but Tae whined and grabbed for his face, keeping him still.

“You’re not,” He shook his head, throat bobbing. “You’re not it’s just… it’s a lot, holy shit.”

Jimin smiled shyly, pleased and embarrassed at the same time. He wasn’t all that used to topping, had never really gotten many chances, but seeing Taehyung enjoying it so much was making his stomach flutter, his spirit absolutely swoon. He buried his face into the boy’s neck and kissed at the sweaty skin there; felt his heart jump when a soft sigh brushed the shell of his ear.

“Okay,” Tae said, placing a hand on Jimin’s chest, steadying, intimate. He raised his eyes to Jimin’s, a sugary-sweet smile making them shrink into crescents. “I’m ready, Jiminie. You can move.”

With his body still thick with nerves, Jimin gingerly rolled his hips back, and sunk forward, bringing them together in one smooth thrust that made them both moan in unison. Taehyung grappled for Jimin’s neck, nails scraping the skin there, sinking and searching as Jimin found a rhythm and plunged them into a steady slap slap slap of skin that was all skill and no speed. Direct, persistent slams of his hips that knew exactly where to aim, what to hit, and all Tae knew to do was hold on and whimper dazedly, his hearing too fuzzy to even comprehend the noises he was making.

Gradually, little by little, Jimin felt Taehyung relax around him, his body continuously giving and opening just for him, allowing pleasure to overtake everything. Tae’s hole was pulsing with every drag of his cock, tightening when Jimin pulled back all the way to the head before driving back in, and for a while it was all instinct. Impulse driving Jimin forward and away, his chest burning from the inside out, but when he felt the boy beneath him squeeze his hand, their fingers still locked beside the blond halo of hair around him, an ache like never before seized Jimin’s heart.

“Jiminie-hyung,” Tae cried, meeting his eyes through wavering tears, the seam of his lips red from faded bites and scorching kisses. Beautiful. “I’m- fuck, I’m not gonna last-”

“It’s okay, baby,” Jimin soothed, flashing a smile that drooped a little around the edges, made him look wrecked and broken because he was. He could hardly breathe, overcome with so much happiness and relief that in the moment it felt just the same as despair.

Crippling.

“Let go. You can let go for me- it’s okay. I love you. I love you so much, it’s okay.”

Jimin wrapped his finger’s around the boy’s leaking cock, stroking as he fucked him down into the bed, and it was perfect. Taehyung’s moans turned high and desperate, head rearing as his back arched sharp and gorgeous into the stretch of Jimin’s cock, pressing down around him, and it was perfect.

Jimin had never seen him look so stunning, so lost and belonged at the same time, and it was with a final muffled shout of Jimin’s name that Taehyung came all over his own stomach, the pearling white liquid dripping down Jimin’s knuckles as he worked him through it.

“Kiss me,” Tae panted, smiling all lopsided and goofy now, utterly euphoric. He could hardly catch his breath, a delightedly warm giggle brushing over Jimin’s cheek when he leaned in. “God, Jimin, please just kiss me.”

With his mouth on Taehyung’s, the taste of him hot and wonderfully sated on his tongue, Jimin came after only a few more rolls of his hips. A weightless, spine curling eruption of emotion and heat that had Taehyung drinking in his moans and silencing them with his tongue, hands soft and calming where they brushed over Jimin’s blushing cheeks, pushed the sweat away from his fringe with adoring fingers.

Jimin immediately collapsed onto Tae’s chest once he stopped trembling, exhaustion crashing into him and making his eyes slip closed. From far away, he could feel Tae’s heart thumping against his ear. Loud and persistent, the beat of it made from Jimin and Jimin alone.

Love.

“Jimin-ah,” It was the softest voice Tae could manage, barely there and drenched in gold. There were fingers in Jimin’s hair, guiding him to face the window. “Jimin-ah, look.”

He loves me.

It was there, in the depths of fall with the leaves translucent and the breeze rippling that Jimin opened his eyes to the sight of a rising sun peeking through the trees outside of Tae’s bedroom window. Stretching up up up towards the sky in arching streaks of orange that touched Jimin just as deeply as Taehyung’s tiger smile, or the way his heartbeat jumped beneath his ear when Jimin reached up blindly and grabbed the hand that was in his hair.

“What time is it?” He asked, voice muffled as he kissed every one of Taehyung’s knuckles, learning and memorizing the things he had never really gotten a chance to before.

Like the ring line Tae had on his index finger, or the darkened veins in his hands that ran all the way up the length of his forearms. They were a stark comparison to his dainty wrists, the jagged lines carding the very strength that had saved Jimin a dozen times over. The same strength he often saw in Taehyung’s eyes like glowing embers, pulsing through him in wild, unprecedented ways.

Taehyung stretched up to glance at the clock on his nightstand, arms raising above his head with a sleepy groan.

“6:44.” Tae responded with a smile, seemingly understanding, effortless and perfect when it came to taking Jimin in and seeing him.

He turned to Jimin then, and his hair fell over his eyes, mouth forming into a natural pout that made Jimin’s heart ache beautifully, the accompanying pain that came with love having become nothing but natural at that point.

That’s just the way things were when it came to Taehyung. So many contradictions, so much uniqueness that Jimin didn’t think he could take it at times. But to fall in love with Taehyung completely meant falling in love with all of him, and that included the habits that made him overbearing at times. The human in him that made him so inexplicably infectious that just a split second of having his attention was enough to make Jimin feel like he wasn’t wrong for having the feelings that he did.

That the one secret Jimin had tucked away and buried inside his entire life was worth celebrating, and letting into the sun to bloom.

Jimin looked up at Tae from where his chin was tucked into his chest, eyes slitted with amusement. “We have plenty of time then.”

It was with a warm, boxy smile that Taehyung looked at Jimin, gaze molten sweet, and laughed with his whole chest. His entire face and being lighting up with these erratic little giggles that made Jimin feel warm and bright and infinite.

“We have all of it, Jimin-ah,” Tae said, ever the believer, the dreamer of the most impossible things.

He was an optimistic after all, and with the way he leaned down to kiss Jimin, rolling him onto his back so that they were flush and ever unbreakable, Jimin finally started to think that maybe he was someone who could afford to dream as well.

“All the time in the world.”