Work Text:
It was just a punch. A playful punch to the arm, something Jungkook always does. The problem is Jungkook is like this little kindergarten boy who doesn’t know his strength and doesn’t understand that punching someone, even if playfully and presumably softly, hurts. And beside that there's an immense strength packed inside that lithe body, definitely much greater than his looks give away.
And the other way around - Jungkook himself got a pretty thick skin, was a tough boy and all. You can push Jungkook around as much as you like, all he will do is laugh. Grin that big bunny smile of his, nose scrunch and all, the little shit actually likes it, likes to get roughened up a little bit.
“Actually, could you stop doing that?” he snaps, and he doesn’t even try to hide his irritated tone.
For Jungkook, there’s nothing he can’t take, no too big of a morsel for him to swallow. Literally and figuratively, when it comes to various life challenges, to physical and mental pressure. You would have to use a lot of force to make the boy cry with just physical touch, and a pretty hardcore verbal abuse to make the tears flow through words. Not that Jimin didn’t succeed in that one, which he regrets to this day.
Such controlled violence was no big deal for Jungkook, even if he got hit back.
But it is for Jimin. Which he never realized, because he didn’t let himself to as he just always tries so hard to not be weak, but today he’s grumpy because he’s tired and upset because he feels like he didn’t do well enough in dance practice, and he lashes out. And another thing that irks him is that by this gesture Jungkook was also brushing off Jimin’s complaining about his sore muscles, by doing this little fucking punch to his shoulder he always does, as if he was one of his guy pals.
Jungkook turns at him, big eyes fucking big as always, and Jimin feels even sulkier and even more frustrated, because he’s just shouted at Jungkook… again
“Do what, hyung?” he asks, and he looks honestly confused. Jimin realizes the boy already forgot what he did wrong, because he actually didn’t do anything wrong, things like these are just normal to him.
He was able to take quite a blow when boxing with an opponent, and Jimin couldn’t even take a fucking friendly punch to the arm. He was a boyish boy in that sense, a man even, despite the baby face.
“Punching me,” Jimin mutters with a pout and looks back to cutting up the veggies for dinner. Because he can already see Jungkook laughing at him, and the fact that this hurts him.
But none of that happens. Instead Jungkook’s full attention is on him and he gets that look in his eyes, like when he’s ready to listen to Jimin and his concerns, ready to hear him out and talk about whatever might be troubling him.
“It hurts you?” he asks with worry apparent in his voice, eyes searching his which are trying to avoid looking at him.
“It does,” Jimin admits reluctantly and sighs.
Jungkook steps over to him and grabs his small shoulders, turning the older boy towards himself and finally forcing the latter to look at him.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I do this to you all the time, I don’t want to be hurting you,” he says softly, eyes so sincere and sparkly as always.
Let’s forego the fact that Jungkook’s been hurting him, torturing him even, for years when he was refusing Jimin, who was pursuing the younger so persistently.
“I just… I hate this! You keep treating me like a girl sometimes and I hate it. I hate that I’m not as strong as you, or even other members or boys you play around with. I want to be a strong guy for you, want to make you feel safe and…”
Jimin often gets special treatment from Jungkook. Sometimes Jungkook is too careful around him, watching himself not to make dumb or insensitive jokes, ones he would unworriedly make about other members, because they are always received in good humour there. Watching himself to not be reckless around Jimin, not push him around, not hit too hard. Not make jokes or remarks without thinking. Not say things that might come off even remotely offensive. As if Jimin was a frail little girlfriend he’s got to tiptoe around, because she gets hurt by literally everything.
But then he does have a reason to. Because when Jungkook doesn’t watch himself, Jimin does get offended, sulks, gives him the silent treatment. Exactly like that dramatic girlfriend he’s trying so hard not to be would.
“Hyung,” Jungkook stops him, eyes locking with his. “You don’t have to pretend anything for me. I love you just the way you are, you don’t need to pretend to be some manly strong guy. And you are not a girl. You have a soft skin and sometimes you bruise too easily, and sometimes you even look so fragile… but it’s okay. You make me feel safe. And you have ways to make me feel small, the way no other man can.”
And Jimin knows what he’s talking about. Because with all the insecurities and internalized anger Jimin harbors, he’s allowed and does take it out on the younger in bed. On Jungkook who likes to feel pain, and harshness, and hardness. Inside of him, and all around him. Likes hands around his throat, choking him, have his hair pulled and yanked, get fucked in a way that is actually borderline painful for him, likes to use way too little lube, take it near to raw, the way it drives Jimin crazy because then he feels every damn tightens around his cock and the friction is that much more intensified - he never thought it’s possible to have anal sex any other way than with tons of lube, but Jungkook had taught him otherwise.
And when Jungkook says no other man could do that – make him feel this small and vulnerable, it’s a huge compliment. Because Jimin knows full well Jungkook had his good fill – literally – of way bigger men, way sturdier and stronger men than is Jimin and Jungkook himself, buff and bulky and tall and hairy and all the macho things neither him or Jungkook, or any of the members, were.
He’s aware of the fact that there were big rough hands that used to manhandle Jungkook into position instead of Jimin’s small chubby ones, and a harsh scruff of stubble against Jungkook’s pretty skin when the guys went down on him, skin that is also very soft and also turns pink easily under irritation.
And Jimin hates it, hates the knowledge that there were men inside Jungkook before him, that he wasn’t his first, and hated the jealousy, because he knew he can never be that. Never be a big hairy guy who smells like sweat and musk and strength, can hoist Jungkook up against the wall and give him the fucking he deserves, has a good strong beard or some facial hair at all. He knew Jungkook’s tastes when it came to looks and this was exactly what he always used to go for. When it came to physical appearance at least.
Because Jungkook himself was just inch and a half taller than Jimin, and he deserved to be treated like a fucking princess but also be fucked like the man he was. And Jimin could never give it to him. All he could do was get overly violent in bed to compensate for it, get brutal to the point where he sometimes was worried whether this wasn’t abuse (Jungkook always assured him it wasn’t, that he was fully consenting. But Jimin still grew concerned, even though he loved their harsh games too.) Instead he bruised even from getting a friendly punch to his arm.
At the same time he was aware Jungkook actually liked that Jimin was smaller. Tastes change and Jungkook was twenty-three now, he wasn’t that teenage hormone driven gay bottom anymore, who only ever wanted a testosterone pumped up stud and a big thick cock.
Made him feel safe, as he once told him. Because Jimin also knew that Jungkook had his bad experience with men, and there was a long time where Jungkook barely talked to any of them and refused any physical contact all together. A time where Jungkook took way too many showers per day and where there was a heavy silence hanging over the members whenever they heard sound of a turning faucet for sixth time that day. To this day he hasn’t spoken about it to any of them, because he hated to trouble others, and because they wanted to give him his peace and space.
Jungkook always told him he didn’t love him for appearance, that such things are superficial and got nothing to do with real love. That he loved him for him. And that he never loved anyone as much as him. Which made sometimes Jimin wonder if he’s attracted to him at all, if loving him for his personality is the only thing that binds Jungkook to him, but Jungkook had assured him many times that he really is attracted to him as well, even if he’s so different from the men he used to go for in the past.
“I still hate it. I don’t want you to have to tiptoe around me and always have to be wary. I want you to treat me comfortably like you would anyone else. But then I fucking bruise and you punch me and it hurts my arm and… I can’t change it, it’s just the way that I am and I wish it wasn’t…” he stammers and looks down.
It’s just the way he is. He’s got to finally fucking accept that, as Jungkook has been trying to make him and helping him to for years now. Stop trying to change himself with harsh dieting, practicing beyond his own limits, berate himself in his own mind and causing himself to spiral into depression that he self-medicates with alcohol and then shouts at Jungkook, which he regrets later and only feels even worse.
“Hyung, it’s okay, it really is,” Jungkook says warmly, eyes yet again searching for Jimin’s that have disappeared. “It’s okay to feel pain and it’s okay to have weaknesses. You’re so strong already. You don’t have to be the strongest in everything, lay it on me, yeah?”
That’s what Jungkook always tells him. Always tells him to share the heaviness, divide it. Because Jungkook can take it. Jungkook can carry all the weight in the world like it’s nothing, and Jimin is envious. Always has been.
“Please, just tell me next time if I’m hurting you. If you need me to be more gentle…” he says, gaze pleading. “How are you still afraid of what I’m going to think? You know that I don’t-“
“Judge anyone,” Jimin finishes for him. “Judge anyone at all, because you’re so fucking perfect. You never judge, you don’t hold grudges, you don’t discriminate. You don’t looks at the ugly in people, only their good always. Everyone adores you, because at all times you’re so good and polite, and you're everyone's favorite. Always a darling, a total angel. You never fuck up, never say the wrong thing, never make anyone feel mistreated or left out. You just bear everything with ease and such grace and I-”
It was a terrible realization. While he loved Jungkook the most in the world, he was also horribly, terribly envious of him at times. And he realized another thing. Jungkook truly was all those things, only good things, the best boy, and Jimin he-
“Fuck. I don’t deserve you,” he chokes out and the tears that have been collecting behind his eyes, in the dull ache of his skull, finally spill. And now he’s crying, great. Just making everything about himself again.
“Nonono. Don’t cry, please!” Jungkook panics, as he always does when he makes Jimin cry. On accident, of course, because Jungkook never means harm, not really. He probably doesn’t even know what malice is. He’s too good for that.
“Hyung! If you’re going to cry, I’m going to cry too!” he warns with a sniff, pained, and his eyes are actually welling up already.
This is the only time Jungkook cries. When somebody else does, when he sees their pain, and he feels for them. How can Jimin hate him out of jealousy, even if it’s just this small tiny little part of him?
Jimin realizes this is where he needs to stop whining, where he needs to get over himself and be strong. As his boyfriend, he’s in charge of Jungkook’s well-being and he’s got to take care of this precious gift to the world. The rare gem that Jungkook is. A pure heart that doesn’t know hatred or spite. And seeing him cry is a heart-breaking sight. Especially when he knows he’s the one to cause it.
He takes Jungkook’s head and pulls him against his chest, the boy curling up against him as Jimin tucks his head under his chin.
“I don’t deserve you. But I’m so lucky to have you,” Jimin concludes, whispering it into his hair, inhaling the scent that is purely Jungkook. A soft boy, exactly how you would imagine a pretty boy to smell like, and his favourite fabric softener and a fruity body mist, mangoes and citrus blossoms this time.
“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for overacting, please don’t cry too,” he mutters, stroking the soft hair under his palm.
And maybe that’s why Jungkook loves him, and why he says he makes him feel more secure than any other man has, despite his size. Because Jimin is strong when it’s needed to be. Jungkook holds him up most of the times, just like in their black swan choreography, and then just hands over his power to Jimin selflessly, but it’s Jimin who leads the way.
“We’re both idiots, aren’t we?” he chuckles and looks down at the black tuft of hair. Jungkook pulls away and looks up, standing taller than the older again.
“Yeah, hyung, I’m an idiot! That’s why you gotta tell me if I’m hurting you, okay? I hurt when you hurt. If there isn’t any other way to finally make you understand you have to think of yourself, too, and speak up, just remember… if you don’t tell me and let me hurt you, you’re hurting me as well.”
Jimin smiles. This definitely was a way to never make him forget. If he is hurting Jimin, he’s hurting Jungkook too. That’s why Jimin has to take good care of Jimin. That’s how Jimin finally conquered his eating disorder back then. With Jungkook’s help and immense support, but the breaking point for him was to see Jungkook’s own despair and pain at seeing him in his pitiful state, to see Jungkook was suffering because of him.
Because he never wants to see Jungkook hurt.
“I love you,” Jimin whispers and takes the boy in his arms, the younger pliant and vulnerable in his hold again while staying firm and strong as always, and kisses him. Soft and gentle, trying to pour all his love into this connection. Because sometimes he’s got to be gentle with Jungkook, too.