Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jimin rehearsed, to the empty chair, in his long waiting.

He rehearsed his final speech at the cafe, with silent words and nails scraping the table, because as a dancer he knew that if he couldn’t envision one move first, then he was never gonna be able to make it in the end. He saw himself, small, mortified, taking the guilt. It was the only way to do it gently, easy.

The only way Soowon would take it.

He had experience, he had too many break ups in his record. And in all of them, he was the one calling the cut. It required tact, it was necessary to acknowledge your part. Even when it wasn’t the main one.

“I don’t think that we are fit for each other. True . You have been great. Lies . You had given me a lot, that I didn’t ask for, and then expected a trade in exchange . But you want a person that I’m not, and I think I will never be. Let's not hurt each other by forcing something that won't be.”

That was sort of the idea.

Polite. Raw. Friendly enough to not make the pampered boy erupt.

A quick end for an affair shorter than five months.

Proper.

Yet it didn’t go that way. Jimin failed from the start: when Soowon came in, all opulent designer clothes, and kissed him on the cheek, and Jimin wasn’t able to raise his lips into a little smile. Why the cheek? you chose this place, for mother’s sake . The corners of his mouth fell harder when the chaebol ordered without asking for his opinion, and he remained silent. And when Soowon dominated the conversation, planning their weekend without actually looking for a humm, a commentary, excitement, anything, Jimin felt himself drown.

He had envisioned himself with a lot more agency in their relationship.

Time had proven that it was never the case.

But that wasn't the worst, or the thing that clenched his throat. That made him turn his head and look up blinking to make the blur go away. It was that the person he was around Soowon, was a stranger that he wouldn’t recognize in a mirror. A stranger that disgusted him, whose words died in his mouth.

Pathetic. Insecure. Submissive.

Of course that the things he had been called didn’t help either.

Eventually Soowon noticed that Jimin was crunched on himself and his eyes were teary. That the coffee served in front of him was untouched. And his brain came to conclusions, and skipped apologies.

“I was busy in the clinic. Did you wait for too long? Why didn’t you order?”

He sighed, tired, as the one aggravated.

And that was the moment when Jimin snapped.

***

Tae didn’t know what to expect when he received Jimin’s text:

Sorry in advance, it said.

It was a Tuesday night, but it could have counted as a long, neverending Monday for him, because his brain was a tangled, wet rope after a full day of checking inventory for his monthly order. Chemicals, paper and plastic wraps and laces danced in front of his eyes mixed with pots and various flowers, and its dates and prices.

Genuinely he had no clue what Jimin meant. His last text conversations had been an invitation to a music show. Was Jimin canceling? Unlikely… They had barely seen each other the last months, a couple of times since his birthday which felt like forever, so both agreed on that reunion being important.

They had to see each other. Jimin had been MIA to long for Tae’s mental health.

Actually, Jimin had been the one approaching this time, weeks ago. And it made Tae so happy, seeing the other start contact again, proposing plans together. It had been months of subtle distance. Only polite and small exchanges. An ocean of distance between the so-called best friends. The soulmates.

He feared what Jimin canceling could mean. Maybe he regretted it.

Maybe was all indeed fucked between them.

Or just that Jimin swapped conversations in a mistake. And the text was for someone else.

On the way to his car he sent a text asking what was going on, and got no reply. Then he called his friend while driving home, but the phone was turned off.

He was starting to worry.

Walking home he was considering calling their common friends to ask, or plainly turn around to his car to raid the others’ flat, when he almost walked over a tipsy Jimin sitting in the entrance of his apartment building, hugging a paper bag full of bottles.

Luckily, Jimin saw him first.

“Tae Tae!” he jumped him, almost throwing Tae out of balance with a bear hug.

And Tae felt a little taken off at the start, but then he fully embraced the blond with all his might; raising his friend from the floor a few seconds, making him laugh, breathing him in. As usual between them, their hug lasted a few more seconds than socially acceptable. Tae was delighted with the surprise. He missed Jimin, he missed him dearly these last months.

Tae moved to pinch Jimin’s cheeks, indulging into old habits. And found red eyes.

It felt like a punch in the guts.

“Jiminie, you okay?” he said, caressing Jimin's face with both hands.

“I’m now, don’t worry.” Jimin looked solemnly at his eyes, putting weight into his words, then returned to the theatrics. “Come on, let’s get inside! I’m freezing! And we must celebrate!” Jimin hugged him again, exhaling with a patent relief. “It’s been so long since my last visit. I missed you Tae.”

“I missed you too.” He purred, taking him in, worried but also delighted. “Hurry up, it’s cold, and you aren’t dressed enough.”

Jimin had always seemed frail to Tae, he knew that he wasn’t, nothing more distant from reality. Yet, he had always been someone he would fiercely try to protect. And tonight, under all the bubbling energy, and easy touching and smiles, he looked shaken.

So he grabbed his friend pulling an arm over his shoulders, to bring him closer to his own warmth, and guided the way to his flat. Jimin grabbed to his waist with strength, resting his head on his shoulder.

Tae knew something was bad, and it made his heart ache. But with Jimin looking at him full of fondness, it seemed like things would fall into place sooner or later.

“For whatever reason you apologized, or wherever brings you here, I’m really happy, Chimmy.”

***

Tae didn’t push Jimin to explain what was happening. He let him study the flat while he sorted his bag and things: Tae quite often moved things around or changed the decoration following wimps. He had lots of vinyls, textiles, and pictures displayed. Rearranging them was like a play for him. It showcased his mood.

It had been a tad melancholic lately. But nothing that some music couldn’t improve.

Between the pictures displayed there was one of Jimin's last show. Two ballet tickets were tucked in the frame although Tae went alone. Jimin stared at the poster, hugging his own arms.

Tae put on some music then he gave Jimin a thick cardigan- that looked adorably large on him, and blushed his cheeks pink with the warm-, then served him noodles and water to sober him up a little.

Jimin first refused the water, but after a silent look from Tae he downed a glass. Then took two cans from his bags and insisted that they should still make a toast, with an electric energy hard to dismiss.

“What’s the occasion, this early in the week?” Asked Tae, hoarding the beers, and guiding them to the dining table. Jimin pocking at him to release the drinks, and the just eating when finding resistance.

Jimin was a consecrated dancer. Maybe good news in his company. A trip.

“I broke up with Soowon.” Said Jimin, casually, while stuffing his mouth.

“You what?” Tae was shocked at first, then against his better judgment his mouth morphed to a boxy grin and a chuckle escaped his lips. He should be ashamed of being that visibly happy but… “Well, Amen to that, finally!” he said, pouring the beers himself.

They toasted, Jimin smiling and making jokes with glassy eyes.

And Tae only sipped his beer, staring.

“What happened?” he asked later.

Jimin sighed.

“I wasn’t happy.”

Tae waited.

“You will have to give me more details than that, I need to know if I must throw eggs to his door or not. Also, you kept me in the dark all this relationship, I was worried, and not only me. The guys noticed as well, how you kept us at distance.”

At first, Tae thought that Jimin was avoiding him particularly, that was his number one nightmare. There was one very plausible reason for such antics, but that would mean a giant burden over them both. They had a talk about it. Jimin drew a line, Tae was following it. They were supposed to be over it. 

Well, Tae wasn’t. But that was his secret.

Then it became clear, for his relief, that he wasn’t getting special treatment: Jimin was keeping distance from their entire group, swallowed by his -now- ex’s world and agenda. A classic Jimin behavior early on relationships, as every one of his friends lamented. But with this guy, it had been worse. He came from a wealthy family, so he had more free time and events to attend than other exes. Jimin simply disappeared from their circle.

“Yeah, I’m not proud of it. I was, purposely ignoring the red flags. Guess that if any of you would have known about our struggles would have coaxed me out of it sooner.”

Tae was patient but not stupid.

“Again… Anything that I need to know?”

“He never hit me, if that’s what you are asking. Don’t worry. But he was very,” Jimin struggled finding the words, “possessive and ill minded… let’s leave it there. I’m intending to eat and enjoy the company.” He slurped more noodles. “Tell me about you, what have you been up to since Unnie?”

“There was no one.” Tae tip toed the theme-playing the same game-, thinking how to swap it quickly, since it was a minefield. “Figured out that I should take some me time after going separate ways.”

“Mmhm, had I made that sensible choice months earlier would have spared me the shit show I went through. Good call… Still, I don’t believe you that you aren’t actually whoring around. Come on, show me your last victim.”

Tae stared at Jimin, faking disdain.

“You do casual flings.”

“Not as often as you make it sound.”

“Sure,” Jimin mocked him, and Tae cleared his throat.

“It’s hard going down from an intimate relationship to a meaningless hook up. Feels empty.” Tae went honest and Jimin knew it right away. It felt awkward. “But if you don’t believe me… it could be a side effect as well, after walking over Yoongi and Hobah the other month. I’m traumatized…”

“You what?!”

Jimin jumped, a smile bigger than his face. “I want all the details, I deserve them!” After all, he had introduced the pair, and always crossed fingers for them.

It took them a long while.

Only recently they had started something official, and communicated it to their group in an outing.

Jimin had lost that moment, being away. He craved the details.

With the easy topic on hand, and their old familiarity growing at giant steps, they both proceeded to get their asses drunk and relax; to openly talk later about what was too rough to discuss sober. Fuck responsibilities and Wednesday mornings.

A couple of hours later there was a pile of empty cans, Jimin’s bag and Tae’s personal reservoir depleted, and the pair ended up splashed together in Tae’s couch, a big green thing. It was massive, they had a lot of space, yet Jimin cuddled against his friend, Tae caressing his hair and occasionally kissing his head, since it was right there, and suddenly he was allowed, again.

He hadn’t done so since October. Since before Jimin’s birthday.

But after it, it was so normal. So natural.

It was cozy enough with just them, the coats bundled in a corner. There was no more music, the vinyl had ended long ago and no one noticed. Only their voice filled the dim space, interrupted now and then by Jimin’s phone buzzing, that Tae finally stole and silenced when he realized who the fuck kept writing at 2 am.

Jimin was finally talking about Soowon- now re-baptizted Wonshit by Tae. And they both were cursing with a lazy slur.

“I’m so angry at myself. I bent down to humor him a million times, yet he never went through the smallest effort to please me. Can you believe that he never went to a show of mine?”

“I… What the fuck Jimin, that’s basic. It’s like, bare minimum. There is no excuse. I would have dropped him on the second date based on their ridiculous antics alone…”

“It isn’t just antics.” Jimin rushed, then sighed. “This one, he made me feel dirty.”

The hand brushing Jimin’s hair stopped one second, before resuming its soothing motion.

“How so?”

“I never spoke about this… I should have. If I had done so, maybe I would have seen how shitty he was… We had different libidos. This meant, more than half the times I wanted to do it, he wasn’t up to it. That alone isn’t that bad. Been there, worked it up before.”

“That’s not bad. It’s depressing. It’s a sign of madness. Who in the entire hearth would reject you?”

“It’s more than that. The annoying part was that I was the one always accommodating. I get it if you are tired a couple times, or if problems have your mind elsewhere. But I did try to create ambience, to look for better dates, to talk, to negotiate, and nothing ever worked.”

“You are really making me want to punch that asshole, you know?”

“It was always his way or nothing, his times, his preferences. He never cared for my needs. At some point, I got to believe that he really wasn’t into me. Maybe he just needed a handsome and well mannered boyfriend for his stupid high society events. And I was good for that part: a pretty doll, a puppet easy to manipulate.”

“Yeah, I will hit him. With my car.”

Tae’s half jokes were doing the charm. Jimin was still pouring, each second more agitated and Tae angrier.

“And that isn’t half bad. I can’t accept different libidos, but don’t make me feel bad about it. The worst part of this psycho is that whenever we were out and someone just looked at me, if I hung out with my company at a bar, or I spoke with a friend for too long, he would get jealous and mad. He would accuse me of being a flirt, a horndog that for sure was looking out for more bones.” Jimin teared a little at that bit. “And sometimes I would believe him, you know? Thinking I had been too much… too clingy all again. The Jimin that doesn't know how to be alone.”

“No. Jimin. No.”

Tae sinked one knee into the coach, to rise and grab Jimin’s face between his both hands to push them face to face.

“It’s not that you were flirty or a horndog - what’s wrong with him? It is his small penis energy that made him live in constant fear of losing you! Because he was incapable of fucking you well, as you totally deserve! Or even treat you as a person. That made him fear your friends and try to push them away, because they would call out his bullshit! It’s a manual psico manipulator!”

Tae punctuated his words pushing Jimin’s cheeks like a sandwich, a stupid sandwich, making him pout and finally laugh between the curses. His tears thus receded, and with them, some of Tae’s rage.

Pleased, Tae let go of his face-leaving red cheeks behind-, but Jimin didn’t go too far; he rotated in Tae’s direction, accommodating his legs between Tae’s man spread, falling into his personal space.

He was covering his mouth as a shy teenager, falling to suppress a laugh, biting -without doubt- an evil remark that spilled when Tae hit his shoulder, looking at him with knowing eyes, also starting to laugh.

“Come on, what is it?”

Jimin bursted so hard that he teared up and hiccupped.

“Small dick energy suits him so well!” His voice was high and barely understandable as he laughed his lungs out, but the gesture he made with his hand was clarifying. “He was indeed small. I mean, no, not really. Regular size, but… lower limit? Not a problem if you know how to use it. Or not obsessed with being the top; for God’s sake, if the Lord didn’t give you the tools, don’t insist!”

Tae cackled badly at Jimin’s attacks, until the next one was pointed to him with a friendly shove.

“It’s your fault, you ruined my expectations back in the day. No cock has ever filled me that well.”

Jimin said that flushed pink, breathing hard with laughter, barely centimeters away from Tae. As if the remark alone wasn’t dangerous. Something absolutely improper, that affected the air between them, making Tae still and hot all over.

Tae kept staring at Jimin, mouth ajar, suddenly aware of how the situation looked like, of the alcohol in their systems, the deja vu sense, the familiar short distance between them. Jimin was drunk, that was sure. Tae as well, didn’t have all his lights intact… but he was smart enough to not act following his dick.

Not again. Not after the fallout and all that it meant.

Jimin kept giggling, his head pounding to one side, pale neck at display, until he let out a final sigh, catching his breath, with his mouth slack open and hooded eyes.

Was he? Smart enough?

“He would have turned crazy had he known we dated as kids. You already were the most hated among my friends.”

“Really? Why so?”

“He was adamant about you being in love with me.” Jimin looked at Tae, and the boy was scared for one second of his friend reading the truth in his eyes that a complete stranger did catch. “And me crazy for you as well.” Jimin rolled his eyes, and Tae’s ego and hopes rose and crashed in vain. “He was crazy... I believe his favorite diversion was going paranoid about me cheating; you were just his favorite scapegoat. But no one, and I mean it, no one, was safe. Yoongi, Jin, Taemin… He is still very convinced that I left him because there was another person. Because I’m that insatiable, and he's spotless! Perfect! With no flaw worthy of leaving him… Yeah, I’m speaking of you, Woonshit,” He yelled at his phone, an arm away, whose screen was shining once again with new texts, buzzing nonstop.

Oh, Jimin was pissed. And Tae got carried with him.

“You totally could feed that paranoia, you know? Teach him a lesson,” Tae said, babbling an idea yet shaping on his mind. “Text him and tell him you were indeed seeing someone else all along, you had to because he was too stupid to tell, and well, as already stated, so fucking boring in bed. That was the flaw! His fatal flaw! Maybe that way he will leave you in peace.”

It was a petty payback, but Jimin’s phone had been buzzing nonstop with messages from the stupid all night. It was completely annoying.

“Oh, shut up!”

He was buying it. Jimin was full on, the little devil’s eyes shimmering, tasting the pain, revenge. But he objected fast.

“But I would never… It feels so horrible.”

“I know. I know…” Tae grabbed Jimin again, this time from the shoulders, and lowered his voice. “But that bastard? He doubted you... you, the most fiercely, loyal lover. It’s only his fault if he buys it. If there is one thing Wonshit deserves as a goodbye kick on the ass, is to truly hear you being ravished, fucked senseless, so he knows how a good work is done, and how far from that he is, that poor, loose fuck.”

Tae saw his words, with Jimin’s wide eyes set on his face. With the memory of that exact moans haunting him. And his skin buzzed.

His hands were gripping Jimin’s arms and they burned. Tae released them scared of going too far, of exposing himself, and that made the boy lose balance. They almost bumped their faces together, since they were extremely close, intertwined legs and all. 

And their gaze made contact.

Both were picturing the scene Tae had described. It became crystal clear when their eyes met, and Jimin’s lips parted, his breathing jumping.

Jimin’s gaze was piercing, but at the same time, starting to get blurry due to the proximity. Tae’s heartbeat raced.

“That would teach him that he’s never having me again… His loose,” Jimin deadpanned, swallowing hard.

“True. That’s the worst torture,” replied Tae, powerless, undergoing his words.

He swallowed saliva, as their noses brushed. Jimin tilted his head in a favorable angle, looking at Tae below fluttering eyebrows. And Tae wavered, feeling terrified. He lowered his sight to hide his ache, and the all consuming want. That’s how he realized that his hands had betrayed him: they were tracing Jimin’s slim waist under his white shirt.

Jimin himself, moved forward to speak at Tae’s ear, what pushed his treacherous hands up, against Jimin’s ribs, under his shirt.

The floor spiraled under Tae, feeling dizzy as if he was drunk. But he didn't drunk that much.

“So what do I do, send an audio moaning?”

Tae trembled and let his forehead fall over Jimin’s shoulder, while his fingers grabbed at flesh. He was weak, he was so weak against him. Powerless. Jimin moved against him, his hair rubbing against Taes’, his sweet scent filling the shared space, but also the bitter aftertaste of alcohol.

Jimin asked again, with the softest hum against his ear, almost a moan. Soft lips brushing his ear. That’s how Tae lost it.

“Yes. Do those high pitched whimps you do when you are about to come,” he rustled over Jimin’s ear.

Jimin let out a single hoarse laugh. 

“Those specific ones? But I can’t fake them.”

They were blindly tracing each other. Tae’s hands in Jimin’s torso, Jimin heavy breathing through his mouth pressed against Tae’s hair. The world ended right where they touched, nothing more existed.

 “And call my name, to make him riot.”

“Your name would be perfect babe, Tae…”

“Fuck.” Tae shutted his eyes.

He was hard now. Jimin was using the voice, his intimate, deep, needy voice. He practically moaned his name… And he was also cutting the crap, because Tae felt a hand seizing his crotch. 

Yes , moaned Jimin, his hand full, before pushing Tae against the back of the sofa to climb over his lap, making Tae feel how he was also hard. Tae had to grab the back, to brace himself in the violent movement. Jimin was looking at him with hunger.

“Are you up then?

“Jimin,” hoarsed Tae, looking from below. His mouth was dry.

“Want to fuck me, Taehyung?”

He illustrated his proposal, bouncing a little over Tae’s crotch. He didn’t need hands to stabilize himself: he had his thick legs sprayed at the sides, while his fingers toyed with Tae’s shirt and pants.

“Please.” He pulled the fabric, as a child that throws a tantrum. “I haven’t been well fucked in so long. I’m starving for some good dick. Your dick. My fave.”

If Tae had any chance to resist, it died there, with one last mean thrust Jimin did over his hard on.

“You fucker ,” said Tae, pulling Jimin from his hair until crashing their mouths.

For one second, Tae’s heart skipped just by touching Jimin; those were his favorite lips, his favorite taste, the best person to hold and burn with. Then Jimin gave him his last breath back, returning the kiss fiercely. 

First it was pure savage hunger that consumed them. Tae claimed Jimin’s mouth with open voracity, swallowing his every moan and peck. Kissing, then biting, then trapping Jimin’s lips within his own, both breathing the same intoxicated air, losing the boundaries between them. Meanwhile, Jimin entangled their bodies, twisting against Tae, merging their limbs and scratching skin, fabric, while rutting in a frantic rhythm.

Tae was desperate. The body between his hands, and the silky voice calling his name, both belonged to his dreams and tortured nights. This might well be a dream.

But real Jimin was better than dreams. The way he moved like dancing, the sounds he made. The mean way that he talked and touched, always provoking.

“God, I need this. Here…here.” Jimin begged, guiding Tae’s hands and mouth.

Tae was burning alive, trapped under Jimin’s desires. He groped, bit, and smooched, feeding his every whims, demands, and nothing seemed enough.

Jimin kept asking for more. Pushing for more. Ravenous.

“Take whatever you want from me. I’m yours,” Tae said, when Jimin whined, greedy and impatient.

And that made Jimin tremble, and slow down his thrusts. He stopped their kissing abruptly to stare at Tae from above. His mouth was brutally swollen and wet, just like the abused skin of his throat.

He was so beautiful. Tae had to lick a line up that throat, then nib at the sharp jaw above, which coerced a breathless high pitched moan from Jimin. He couldn’t stop. Jimin sighed, like asphyxiated, while Tae sucked at his skin going for a hickey.

“I don’t want to take anything, I’m tired of it… Of begging, asking. I want you to take me. Show me how hard you want me.”

Tae growled, needing a second to take his words.

“Okay. I can do that,” he finally said.

Then he hugged the boy tight, burying his face into Jimin’s throat, and pushed the boy against the cushions of the sofa in one swift movement. One protective hand over Jimin’s crown, avoiding hits with the armrest; the other rude, handling the legs, tucking down the tight pants and briefs that Jimin carried.

Jimin helped only struggling when the cloth went over his erection.

Tae kissed him fast to peace his discomfort. Then pecked him again. And again.

“I do want you… You don’t imagine how much. For how long.”

“How much, babe?”

“So much…” Tae kissed Jimin’s chest and belly over his shirt, then bitted at his exposed hip bone. “So much that it’s absurd, stupid. A beast thing. I want to mark you all over.”

“Mh, you can do that,” hummed Jimin, kicking off the last one of his pant cuffs. Tae took the chance and kissed his way up from the stray calf, to Jimin’s inner thigh. Jimin twisted in response, raising his hips, gasping. He tried to guide Tae to his middle, but he resisted, standing over his elbows instead, eyes fixed on Jimin’s expression.

Jimin recoiled under his gaze.

“Look at you, so eager.” No trace of mockery in Tae’s voice, as he traced Jimin’s torso with a slow, heavy hand, taking his shirt out of the way. Then kissing the exposed skin with an open mouth. Making Jimin rot. “You are so damn beautiful.”

“I am?”

His voice was unrecognizable, high and airy.

Jimin raised his arms over his head, helping with the task of tossing his shirt, heavy breathing. Tae assessed him, with dark eyes.

He was completely naked now, below Tae. His respiration was frantic. His own dick, which Tae felt accommodated between his open legs, was pulsing against fabric. Tae still had some clothes, he needed to change that fast. But first, the truth:

“You are a work of art. A dream,” said Tae, descending to kiss at Jimin’s flat stomach, which made the boy twist and laugh in painful arousal. A vision for Tae, who indulged even worse. “I could watch you all day, especially when you look this ready and needy, only for me.”

Jimin moaned, a filthy sound.

“I’m too fucking horny for this, come on” he demanded, pulling Tae from his hair to kiss again,  wet and desperate, while his hands tugged from Tae’s clothes with an animal urge.

“Relax, menace,” said Tae, propping himself up with a smirk, having Jimin chasing after him.  “Stay there… Behave,” Tae said, pushing Jimin against the cushions again and standing on his knees to take off his own shirt with a controlled, slow, sensual move.

Jimin stayed still, eating him with his eyes.

Tae followed with his belt, standing ominous over Jimin, and the image plus the sound of the leather worked like a charm. Jimin bit his lower lip, looking close with dark eyes while Tae removed his pants. Jimin closed his hands into fists to avoid touching.

“Do you like what you see?”

Jimin swallowed as the boxers went down, silent, clutching at the sofa’s fabric. Tae felt so damn proud of his lack of words.

He grabbed his dick, raising his length against his stomach. Jimin was completely lost in the image.

“You do. You love it so much…”

“I do…”

“How did you call it earlier, Jimin?”

Jimin shuddered at the sound of his name, and his pose crumbled, catching air and letting his legs fall weekly at the sides.

Tae stroked himself twice. Slow, all the way down, just for show. Jimin didn’t answer his question, incapable of lacing two words together with all his attention put elsewhere. So, against the silent, Tae left, suppressing a smirk.

Butt naked he stepped out of the sofa, and walked to his room.

Jimin’s face was a poem. Body splayed on the sofa.

“Tae?”

“Where are you going?”

“You don’t want me to fuck you raw? Do you?” Tae yelled.

Jimin’s growl was audible even from another room.

Tae returned one minute later, cackling, with lube under his arm and, and a condom sheathing his hard on. He found Jimin still on the sofa, resting on his back, fingering himself. He had one leg up, marked with teeth and hickeys; the closest to his crotch, the more there were.

The view was unholy.

Jimin was biting his lips, his dick bouncing erect with pearly drops in the tip.

“Want some help?” Tae barely pronounced, staring.

Jimin shaked his head.

“Want you inside me, now.”

The eagerness in his voice made him sound almost moody. Tae understood the sentiment well.

He could dally. Make some time just to turn Jimin mad, make him beg and turn shy with sweet talking later. But honestly, Tae was very fucking horny just like Jimin. Two minutes fingering was torture enough.

“Let me,” he said, dropping lube on his hands and rubbing them to warm it. Meanwhile Jimin put a pillow under his head and another under his lower back. Hustle preparations before taking positions: Tae slotted between Jimin’s legs, Jimin sprayed on his back, looking closely, grabbed at the back of the couch.

Electricity and anticipation were tangible in the air.

“Mmh,” Jimin mumbled, when Tae fumbled in the first finger, quite fast. “You better prepare me well. I would prefer to walk myself to bed later.”

“Oh, I will prepare you. But I also fully intend to leave you useless, honey.”

“Bold words for... Ah. Don’t do that.” Jimin squirmed as Tae’s finger curled inside him.

Tae’s fingers were long, and he knew how to use them. He repeated his previous move, with two fingers now.

“Jesus fucking christ.”

“How did you call my dick earlier? I’m still waiting for my response.”

“Ah. Son of a bitch… fat?”

Tae couldn’t tell if Jimin was feigning demency, or Tae’s hands were making the trick. He did seem affected. It was beautiful. It was alluring how he tried to reach Tae, but collapsed, shaking and cursing every time that he used his hand.

“Not that, but close.”

“Can you just put it in?” Said Jimin, shoving against Tae’s hand.

“Soon. Just humor me.”

Tae toyed with a third finger that made Jimin jump and shake. God, he really was going to feel his dick. It was way more than three fingers. Tae got generous with the lube, with the scissoring. But there wasn’t much more that he could do. His hard on was already pulsating with Jimin’s reactions.

And Jimin found the words.

“My favorite cock? That made it for you?”

Tae grunted. Took his fingers out and aligned his dick instead, teasing.

“Yes.” No case denying it. “What do you like so much about it?”

Jimin had his head up, trying to look at them, watering his mouth.

“That is so stupidly big.”

“Mmh…” grunted Tae, pushing in.

Jimin gasped. That was nice to hear, almost nicer than the pressure building around him. Jimin was heavenly tight around him. Tae had a proud smile on his face that quickly transfixed into pain and pleasure. He moaned and shivered as the head rubbed against walls. Centimeter by centimeter, his world and senses collapsed as Jimin shacked around him, making silent chocked sounds. His hands were clutching at the sofa, his head falling against his pillow.

“So damn big... Ah! Hold on...”

One of Jimin’s hands reached for Tae’s clasp. He intertwined their fingers and clutched them, hard.

Tae stopped mid track, fighting his blind desire for more. He wanted to bury himself deep down, to make Jimin scream. But Jimin’s muscles were tensioning, and his mouth was falling slack with muffled moans.

“Relax. It’s me.”

“I know, I know” said him, with teary eyes.

Maybe they rushed too much. Jimin was fighting the discomfort and Tae wanted to kiss him, hug him, but he was scared of moving much, so he just took their intertwined hands and kissed the back of it.

Jimin gazed speechless at him doing so, and their eyes met.

Or more probably, they melted. Something in Jimin just melted.

Had Tae allowed himself to be delusional, he would have believed that there was love in his gaze. Tae kissed his wrist then, with tenderness, maintaining eye contact, and closing his eyes, Jimin moved against him, pushing in.

That took Tae for surprise and made him flinch, biting his lower lip.

“Keep going,” Jimin begged, eyes shut, taking his hand to Tae's shoulders, holding on .

“You sure?” Tae asked, not ready for a no.

“Please,” nodded Jimin, with eyes closed, using his body and his weight to bring Tae closer, over him, deeper.

Tae moaned as he fell in, feeling every inch; meeting Jimin’s body, his shivers that echoed in him. There was fire running on his veins, eating his body with heavy want. He wanted to move against the pressure, to take, he wanted to die right there. He could happily die right there, with Jimin whispering his name in chopped bits. He moved slowly and their breathing became a mess, an encompassed mess. Jimin had clutched himself to his entire body and Tae could feel it as if it was his own. His senses betrayed him, weren’t his anymore. They were completely tuned to Jimin, to his moves and warmth.

He thought that that was it, that getting closer was impossible, and then Jimin opened one leg further away and Tae found himself deeper in.

“Holly shit,” he gasped.

Tae used that last jab to reach higher, towards his head. “I’m in. I’m fully in. Well done babe,” he kissed his neck.

“Don’t tell me,” Jimin joked, blindly searching for Tae’s mouth.

And he found it. He kissed Tae. Short kisses with tight lips, during the time that took him to get used to Tae’s shaft, while Tae pampered him with caresses to his face, and sugar coated compliments. Slowly the kisses became deeper, sloppier. Their tongues recreating what their bodies started to do.

And every flinch earned a collection of curses and moans and raw want.

“It feels so good,” hummed Jimin, moving against him, searching for more friction, trembling. “Not only because it’s big... but because it’s you.” Tae groaned, satisfied. “Don’t stop. Don’t dare you stop. I need you.”

“I won’t. I have you… like that?”

“Just like that.” Tae rocked harder. Back and Forth. Each time going more far, until the brink of pushing out, which made Jimin’s back curve in pleasure, as the head rimmed his entrance. He was finally loose, surrendered. 

“Like that?”

Jimin choked, as the head circled his entrance, and then went violently all the way down. “Just like that. Ah!”

“Again,” he shivered. “Fuck, fuck. Again.”

Soon the kisses were impossible to sustain, it was an open mouth against a desperate, silent cry. Tae’s waist was snapping faster and faster every time, his hands buried in Jimin’s hip bone.

“Please,” begged Jimin. “Harder.” He latched his nails to Tae’s sides, his hip meeting Tae’s every violent move. His feet arched en pointe.

“Like this?” Tae gave a fast snap, followed by another, and another, with a cruel beat. Sweat rolled down from his hair, and shined on his neck and chest. Jimin bended and licked it.

“Harder.” He had the balls to say. Tae laughed, thanking the heavens.

“Really?”

“Oh my fucking God,” Jimin cursed, when Tae repositioned himself and swept merciless over all his more sensitive spots on a stride. And then he repeated it, faster, over and over again, hitting the same damn spot that made Jimin jump. It was obvious how he landed it because Jimin almost convulsed every time under him. His eyes were shut down.

“Don’t do that. Ah, I love it so much.”

Jimin allowed himself to squirm helpless one last time, then took control of his own body as the dancer he was. He moved in a wicked way, serpent-like: rolling up, making his skin and dick meet Tae’s frame in hot brushes. He kept telling Tae to not do things, and then went and did them himself, making them both laugh and curse like stupids.

Jimin raised one knee close to his chest, and Tae took the kuddo instantly to drive his knees over his shoulder. 

“You are amazing,” stated Tae, seeing that he was still able to bend over Jimin to kiss him needy; leaving a trace of saliva behind. Jimin had teary eyes, almost crying as he was penetrated deeper and deeper.

That new angle was evil, taking the worst of both of them.

Tae went mad at the sensation of his hard balls reaching base. Jimin was also sweating in his effort to meet Tae in every movement, lifting his body.

“I’m close,” stated Jimin.

“Yeah, me too,” acknowledged Tae.

Tae let his knees fall, and twisted Jimin’s legs to the side, in an easier posture for the boy, spoon like. But Tae kept the pace and strength, not letting the momentum go. He even grabbed at Jimin’s dick.

Jimin whined, allowing himself to get manhandled. His torso turned to the side, arms sprayed for balance, as one hand from Tae played with his chest, and his mouth looked for his neck.

“Who else fucks you like this?” grunted Tae to his ear.

Jimin shaked his head, pressing his lips.

“Who makes you so damn useless and pretty?”

Jimin didn’t have the strength to answer, he just smiled. He indeed was useless and lax at this point, waiting for Tae to end him. Completely rendered to the sensations, to Tae kneeling him into the couch. Filling him. Calling him pretty.

When the phone rang.

Jimin went stiff by the surprise. Tae stopped mid movement, startled, looking at the thing.

The forgotten device was vibrating against Tae’s leg. His blue light announcing an incoming call. The letters were backwards to Jimin, but he recognized who was in Tae’s moody expression, morphing into a grin.

“Want to talk with him?” said Tae, extending a hand to take it.

“Ignore it,” Jimin begged, more worried about getting railed than for Tae’s expression. He rolled against Tae with desperation, not appreciating the distraction.

“But you should.” Tae grunted at Jimin’s efforts to coerce him with his body. “If you don’t, I will. Who the hell does he believe he is to call at this hour.”

“Tae, I don’t care, just fuck me…”

“I care.”

Tae swiped his thumb on the screen, and turned on the speakers. Then resumed his work, turning Jimin over his stomach. Then moving him to stand on his hands and knees.

He trembled in anticipation.

A lot of noise filled the room. Street noise, glass and muttering. People talking.

“Jimin? I’m sorry… Can we meet? I want to talk.”

A drunk voice. Jimin snorted at it, half aware, but Soowon clearly didn’t catch it over the noise surrounding him. His voice sounded lame. Tae redirected the anger it awaked to mean thrusts that made Jimin moan and twist. A loud, ascending cry, but maybe not loud enough, not yet.

So Tae insisted, carrying a hand to his chest, pinching a nipple. Jimin whined.

“Jimin?” The voice said.

“Won’t you answer, babe?” Said Tae, aloud.

Jimin couldn’t care less for the call. He was dripping, staining the couch. Breathing in loud gasps. His arms failed him. “Hold me,” he whimpered, wanting Tae to hug him, take him.

“Who is that?” Sounded the phone.

Tae hugged Jimin from behind, helping him up, and fucked into him with abandonment, as one os his hands went to his dick, finishing him. Jimin cried out loud, falling against him.

“Babe, I’m coming. Wait. Wait,” he said.

“Sorry, yeah, Jimin can attend to you right now. He is too busy being fucked,” said Tae clear and loud.

There were a lot of chocked sounds in and out the speaker. Jimin opened his eyes, and covered his mouth, shocked, but it was too late. Tae kept rocking on him, merciless, gasping out loud on purpose, and Jimin found himself screaming against his palm.

“What--? Who are you?! Jimin, are you there?” The voice on the phone sounded so funny.

Jimin laughed, couldn’t help it. Then he cried again.

Tae was keeping a brute pacing.

“Love, tell him…”

“Jimin?” Said a metallic voice, falling into despair.

“Answer him,” said Tae bitting at Jimin’s nape. Almost immediately he felt Jimin’s body shake. And warm spur meeting his hand, the first strikes.

“Say my name,” begged him, desperate to join Jimin.

But also because he wanted Wonshit to know. He wanted Jimin to rejoice at the moment.

Jimin was clearly gone, with no fucking idea of where he was, or how he still stranded straight. He was flying in bliss, lost. His skin feverish against Tae’s mouth and hands, and also around him, pulsating. Tae moaned to the maddening sensation.

“Please, Jimin.”

And he never leaved Tae alone, not for long. So he replied.

“Tae… Tae...” he said with an airy and completely broken voice. “Please.”

Tae smirked when the light of the phone turned down, and the speaker’s noise stopped.

And then he completely forgot about it when Jimin begged “come with me…” he turned his head towards him. Body trapped.

He was waiting for him. So Tae resumed his thrusts, one last time. Wrapping both arms around Jimin’s belly, and with his fingers crossing over his throwing erection, stimulating further with small pulls and scratches. His body curled over Jimin,  bending him down, against one arm of the sofa. 

He had Jimin's face beside his. He had his eyes shuttered down, his eyebrows low in a rictus transfigured by pain or pleasure. Impossible to tell. His mouth hung open, leaving unholy sounds.

And Tae kissed him, desperate and abandoned to the feeling. And after a final push, he felt the tension on his body breaking, dropping him into a blind nothing.

But it wasn’t really nothing. He knew that distinctive warmth. He knew that tender voice. The alluring smell. And every gesture. The body turned against him, catching him, forehead to forehead.

It wasn’t nothing, it was the exact opposite absolute. It was his all, Jimin.

Chapter Text

Jimin woke up first, to the lull of birds chirping to the first ray of suns, the distant roar of motorcars on the streets, and Taehyung’s steady breathing beside him. A half foreign room, Tae’s room. They were facing each other. Taehyung’s back was against the window, and the dim light crossing the curtains was giving his dark curls a golden halo.

Jimin stayed there for a few minutes. Ignoring all the urgent and mundane things, like work, the achy need to wash the sweat dried on his skin. The sex smell, Taehyung’s smell.

He just stared, numb, in peace.

Feeling safe.

He stayed in bed and gazed at Tae's peaceful expression. His most children-like features and expressions surfaced in dreams. The very features that Jimin traced and kissed a lifetime ago. 

Jimin extended a hand and gently caressed Tae’s cheek, pulling some locks out of his handsome face.

He hadn’t felt this calm in years. So, satisfied? Well, that too, but it wasn’t the primal feeling. It was happiness. Something deeply inside him satiated. He was happy. He was pouring happiness.

Should he feel different? Who cared? 

All his revolted endorphins were making a number on him. 

Without the heart to awake Tae- the sleepy bear- Jimin pressed two fingers to Tae’s lips softly, and in calculated steps, slowly got out of bed, to prepare some coffee and face the world.

***

Tae woke up to an empty bed, and his brain failed to register anything but that.

He rose to his feet jumping, and with bare feet and sensitive eyes bumped things out of his room, kicking on his way Jimin’s boots carefully put together by the aisle, without realizing what that meant.

All he knew was that he slept with Jimin last night. This had happened once before, and they didn’t properly speak for months after that. And, no, no, he couldn’t allow that to happen again. He was terrified. If Jimin left… If he disappeared again…

But, of course, Jimin didn’t leave. Tae found him in his kitchen, pouring some coffee. Then the aroma filling the room hit him. The noises. The bag and shoes on the way.

Jimin was at his home. Early as sunshine.

Smiling.

“You woke up! Impressive,” Jimin walked in his direction and gave him a fast peck close to the corner of his mouth. “I thought that I would have to shake you to say good-bye. Here, I made you tea, your favorite.”

The last word did sound mischievous, and disconnected Tae for a second. But quickly Tae trailed back.

Jimin was so casual. His clothes and hair were in order. No wrinkles at sight even when Tae remembered pulling them hastily out of the way while undressing each other. Did last night really happen?

Yes. There were hickeys at Jimin’s neck. And his lips were red and soared yet.

Also, he looked a bit nervous behind his diligent façade, putting the kettle on its place. Checking his phone. He was biting his red lips and avoiding eye contact.

***

Tae looked gorgeous in his almost naked glory. Jimin had to make an effort to not eat him with his eyes. Or full mouth, considering Tae willing. But he had to leave in no time. There was a practice session in half an hour, and he had spent enough time stargazing at Tae’s moles in bed.

Jimin grabbed Tae from the shoulder and rubbed his thumb over it.

“Honey. I’m really sorry, but I must leave now. Like, I should have gone like twenty minutes ago.”

That he used to quickly wash his sins away in the bathroom and try to look a little less fucked. His hair had been a struggle.

Tae had to be very much asleep yet, because he grabbed at his hands like a drunk sailor. Completely out of his gravity.

“No Jimin, wait…”

“Please don’t act like a kid.” Said Jimin freeing his hands to pat Tae on the head, as if he were a puppy. It was fun to mislead Tae when he wasn’t his usual controlled self. “I really have to go. And you should go wash your teeth and put some clothes on if you want to kiss me goodbye,” said Jimin, downing his mug of coffee in two large chunks while staring at Tae.

Tae looked really lost. Then something sparkled in his eyes, and rushed out of the kitchen. He came back two minutes later with fresh breath and mismatching clothes- one socket blue, other white. Jimin was still putting his boots on when he flashed towards him, at full speed.

***

“Let me ride you to the studio.”

“Alright,” beamed Jimin.

And they rushed out of the flat, with Jimin ranting at Tae for disregarding the tea he made out of pure love, even when Jimin knew well that Tae had left it behind to help him get to work on time.

Jimin babbled nonsenses most of the ride.

And Tae let him speak because he needed time to assess Jimin.

Their brief interaction in the kitchen informed him that he wasn’t mad. He seemed a bit awkward, but cheerful. Yet, this was Jimin, it could all be a lie, and he was just pretending to run out of the place.

No, that was Tae’s anxiety speaking. He knew Jimin well, he knew when he was lying to him.

Most of the time.

Yet, Jimin was babbling non stop, therefore, he was nervous. And that was potentially bad. Any gray idea could become a giant black monster in Jimin’s head in the span of a traffic light changing colors.

On the other hand, there was the kiss promise. If Jimin joked about kissing him, that was virtually fine. And if that was fine, he hadn’t regretted this far their night together.

Last year’s affair, the regret had been instant. Jimin had left without warning Tae, and later messaged him an apology. He had woken up alone. Guilty and sick.

Tae crunched the car wheel and fired.

“Jimin, are you okay?”

“Yes? What do you mean? The break up?”

“No. Yes… How do you feel about that?”

***

“Yesterday was… a formality.  That relationship had never really worked, so I really needed to just say it and make it official. Take the step. I'm fine. I don’t believe I’m going to miss that dick.”

Flashes of last night passed through Jimin’s mind, and he had to suppress a laugh. There was nothing to do with the kick of heat on his lower belly.

“Thanks for the night, by the way. I… You made me feel like it was fine to be myself. It had been way too long without feeling that.”

“Always. You can always count on me.”

“I know. Why do you think I came to you?”

This wasn’t about the sex. This was about their story, their friendship. The deep knowledge of each other.

“Because I live the closest?”

“Right, maybe that was it,” said Jimin, cheeks rising due to a coy smile.

Then Tae sighed. 

“What about that space you asked me to give you?”

Tae looked dead serious. A little scared even. And that freaked out Jimin a bit.

Last time that they fucked, they fucked up: Jimin's birthday. Jimin had been single (by days) but not Tae. It had been a massive mistake. Jimin felt like shit remembering Unnie’s tears. Tae's turmoil. The whole shit show that followed.

“I closed it myself. Didn't I? It's not the same situation, although there are obvious coincidences.”

Like Jimin climbing to Tae the minute he was alone, with his confidence broken.

Tae had all the right to look worried.. 

“I get it now, what drove me. You feel safe to me. And I needed that.” Jimin realized how pathetic that sounded, swallowing saliva to calm his throat. What was he asking from his best friend? “But if that makes you feel confused, or uncomfortable, say it and we can make it as if that never happened.”

“I don’t want that,” Tae rushed.

“Yeah, me neither.” Jimin stated.

The quick exchange made Jimin’s stomach twist. Eyes stubbornly looking forward.

Tae pulled the car, and Jimin realized they were a few meters away from his dance studio. He didn’t want to leave yet. The clock was against him.

Jimin suddenly needed to ask. Had it been a mistake? Had it grossed Tae out?

It looked as if Tae read his mind.

“I enjoyed it. More than that. I needed it too, and would do it all over again.”

He said, making eye contact and with a face so serious that any other person would have flinched away. But Jimin knew better.

He propped himself forward and pressed Tae’s mouth hard with his own. Brushing Tae’s lips open, then biting the lower one. A moan escaping Tae’s mouth. There was a mint flavor to his tongue, and breath.

Jimin gave one lazy patrol over every spot on Tae’s mouth, owning the place, claiming property; then retired one inch with closed eyes.

“I really have to go.” He pecked once more. “I’m late, but…” He pecked twice, a third time. Tae bended towards him to not lose contact at the end. “ I will see you later.”

That said, Jimin ran to the dance academy, where once in the dresser he got mocked to his death by Taemin and his other companions. Why? Because he was late, and changed in front of everybody, forgetting to conceal all the marks on his body.

Excluding that parade, it was a perfectly lovely day, until it's evening.

***

Tae was also late to the greenhouse. His boss wouldn’t say anything to him, it was a relatively chill place: yesterday he worked many extra hours, and even more on valentine's day, so today it was acceptable to be a bit late- lucky him. Also, he was the one that opened the store every morning. Who would know? Who would care?

Apparently Namjoon, waiting on his bike, by the door.

“Fuck.” Said Tae, after spotting him.

He completely forgot about that.

His friend had rented the greenhouse for the day. He planned to dictate a curse that morning, about bonsais and how to tend them. He was a popular entrepreneur that sold many of his creations through the place.

Namjoon glared at Tae when he arrived.

Tae just went toward him and hugged him, demolishing his defenses.

“I need to tell you something.”

Namjoon scoffed and tapped at the other.

“It better be the best excuse Tae, we need to--”

“I fucked with Jimin,” said Tae, with the start of a smile, but also fear engraved on his eyes.

“You what?” Namjoon screamed, while Tae fumbled with the keys, opening the door. Guiding them into a huge room full of flowers, succulents, and aromatic plants.

“Help me with the tables. We are late,” hurried Tae, pointing to all the furniture in the middle of the main room that needed to be moved to the corners. They started to push them, grabbing each from opposite borders, staring at each other and making faces. 

“How did this happen?” said Namjoon.

They had to empty the middle, bring the big table, its chairs, and all the tools and manual books.

“On my sofa.”

***

Namjoon congratulated himself for not flinching and giving Tae a judgy stare instead.

“Not that how… Doesn’t he have a boyfriend?”

“They broke up.”

“Nice!”

That was great news. What Tae had been waiting for months. His opportunity to…

“Yesterday…”

“That’s not nice… Tae!”

“He called when we were fucking, I send him my regards.”

“Wo, wo, wo… Please tell me that Jimin had broken up with him before that call.”

“He did.” Tae fumbled moving the last exhibitor.

Namjoon sighed, with relief, helping.

“This still doesn’t sound great, you know?”

“I know. I’m freaking out.”

They were awkwardly standing in the empty mid now. The table and chairs were still in another room. They had maybe fifteen minutes to put everything in place, and sort this crisis.

Namjoon had no idea how he could manage that.

Then Tae disappeared through a door and returned jumping into his working overall with a backwards shirt- which he wouldn’t tell about. The boy hit many edges and pots while running around, cursing, which made Namjoon laugh: usually he was the clumsy one . But quickly the fun morphed into guilt. Clearly Tae was spiraling. Say something positive.

“But hey, congrats on the sex? Was it good?”

Tae zoned out, a bit violently. It had to be good…

“We were a bit drunk.”

Namjoon felt the blow. Deja vu . Remembered Tae sobbing on his house because he fucked up, bad.

“Is this somehow a repeat of Jimin’s birthday?”

“I want to believe that it’s not. Technically, we are both single.”

“By hours, but fair: it’s an improvement.”

Nam had to walk to the storage room. Look for the workshop table, a pretty thing, robust, large. Tae followed.

“And he stayed in the morning, I drove him to work –that’s why I’m late- and we kissed goodbye.”

“That sounds sweet…I’m hopeful.”

“Yeah, me too but...”

“You are scared. That’s understandable.”

They set up the table, putting its detachable legs in place, then turning it upright.

Then they ran, one for the chairs, the other for the mantel.

“That’s it? Or am I losing another vital point of information? How did Jimin end in your house, and fucking with you?”asked Nam when they reunited, on the way of carrying chairs. Open them. Put a rustic pillow over them.

“He came to me, because I’m his support, obviously… and I took advantage of it, clearly.”

Nam clicked his tongue.

“Now, drop that victim and victimizer mentality… breath with me... You are both adults… you are clearly into each other, and there is nothing immoral in you following that desire now. Just… be honest, Tae. You finally know your feelings. Act accordingly and it will be what it needs to be.”

Tae went silent for a minute, looking down, stare heavy.

Namjoon had flashbacks of a wrecked Tae, with dark circles and dead eyes dropping on his home for a month. Of tears of guilt and confusion. He had already lived the worst case scenario, and failed it extraordinarily.

Which was a good reason to believe he was ready to navigate a similar (but even better) situation now.

“I’m… scared of Jimin not wanting the same. What that would mean for us.”

But some fears never changed. Namjoon sighed.

“There is only one way to know, Tae. Don’t rush him, but do ask…”

One corner of Tae’s mouth raised, but it was a shitty smile.

“And do consider that Jimin coming to you time and time again, has to mean something. I do think you have a good chance.”

“Now, bring me the supplies…” Namjoon pushed Tae before he could reply with an array of insecurities. Tae obliged, but still came back with a troubled face.

“Don’t you think that I’m taking advantage of Jimin right now? He just ended this shitty relationship. He is in pain…”

Namjoon flinched, yes and no .

“I never thought for a second that Soowon was more than a rebound. Or even worse, a penitence. Self sabotage. You are right, he is in pain. More of a reason to not let him alone.”

“What if I’m not the best company? Too egoistic to put him first?”

“What if you are still the company that he wants?”

In the middle of that ping pong, they still prepared the table for the patrons arriving in five, four... Starter kits on site, a baby bonsai in front of every chair, and scattered petals with a final bouquet in the middle.

“The thing is. You are not a bad person Tae, nor a bad match. The fact that you are so scared of hurting Jimin, or even taking advantage, shows how deeply you care. Prove him that, be there for him, in whatever shapes that naturally comes, and I don’t think that you will repent things later, as you do now.”

Tae looked serious, calculating. He cleared his throat but still asked in a deep voice.

“Can you repeat that and I record you in case of future fucks and fuck ups?”

Namjoon laughed.

“I won’t be held responsible for the things you horny bastards do. Now give me the details. What the hell…?”

***

At work neither Jimin nor Tae had much time to check their phones. Yet, they both managed to exchange a few awkward messages. Tae sent a picture with Namjoon, commenting about the workshop… Jimin complained about his teammates, as usual-he actually loved them, but everybody had a perk for dramatics on his field… Then Tae offered to pick him up, which made Jimin consider dangerous what ifs, to quickly refuse the offer stating that he would leave earlier than usual today, that he didn’t want to be a hassle.

That he pretty much wanted to sleep… if his mind allowed him.

While dancing, doing exercise, running –almost every physical activity- Jimin’s hyperactive mind soothed. So technically Jimin hadn’t digested the events of the previous day yet.

He had to. He needed time alone.

From the break up, to the drinks and the talk, to Tae over him, Tae sleeping beside him, Tae everywhere…

He had surfed the dopamine wave, yes, and zoned out with horny thoughts only a dozen times during practice, to his company’s delight. But he still hadn’t faced his conscience: Some reckoning was due, and Jimin was pushing that task until reaching home, aided by physical work. A jog to his home…

What he didn’t imagine, in a lifetime, was finding Soowon waiting on his door.

He was lucky to spot the man before marching in the hallway of his floor. Second floor. He swiftly kneeled on the stairs, hiding, when he recognized his ex’s brown hair and wide shoulders. He was stalling, moody, in front of the door. Anger printed on his face.

Fuck, fuck, fuck . Jimin thought about the phone call.

He fucked big time.

Reckoning indeed, waited for him.

Should he call the police? Should he face Soowon and his understandable rage? Fuck, he was scared. He had changed his door code… yet that didn’t avoid that random people could let Soowon come into the building, or his doorman who also knew him. How had he not thought about that?

He didn’t expect him to care that much. But of course, he never planned to violently aggravate him and his huge pride.

Jimin was hyperventilating.

He felt guilty. Dirty. What kind of foolery had he done? What he played on Soowon had been low, no matter what resentment he could carry from their time together. At the end he proved Soowon’s words right.

It wasn’t fair to call the police on Soowon. Would it even work? He was practically a chaebol. Wouldn’t officers look aside? A gay drama, of all things…

An Itaewon cafe was a thing. His residence, with all the ahjummas and little kids was a different shit.

Jimin forced himself to think fast, think fast…

He descended the stairs slowly, begging to not be seen, to not make a noise, and once in the lower floor, he jumped into the elevator and into the last floor, to the rooftop. From there he could see if Soowon left the building. He could wait. He should wait. He had to leave, that was his final hope.

He didn’t know how long he stayed there, his mind a nest of wasps, but Soowon never left. It was getting late. He was cold. And he was shaking, Jimin realized, when one of his neighbors, a lovely old woman texted him saying that his friend was waiting for him at the hall. Should she invite him meanwhile? It was a pity seeing him there.

His hands shook too bad for him to reply. Plus, he had no clue about what to say.

Jimin wasn’t sure about what to do. Had he always been this afraid of Soowon? No, never at this level, because he knew himself innocent… But now. What could he actually do with real motives? He had always been so possessive.

Jimin fucked bad. It was all his fault.

Options ran thinner: Tae texted Jimin, asking if he could go visit him, that he was out of work.

Jimin read the message, and didn’t reply. God, it was that late already? How long would Wonshit stand there? Should he better go to Tae’s house? Yoongi’s?

That wouldn’t solve the problem he was in.

His phone rang, startling Jimin. He had to include the fucking calls in the silent mood… He checked and it was Tae. Half an hour had passed since he opened their conversation, and he stalled, meaning to type. He probably freaked Tae out.

Fuck. Fuckity. Fuck.

He picked up at the fourth ring. Looking worried at a car parking a block away that seemed dangerously familiar.

“Jimin, is everything all right?” Tae’s tone was cautious. But with an edge, hard to dismiss.

Jimin had to clear his throat to answer. He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t.

“No…” he hiccuped, feeling the stupidest, weakest person. “Soowon is at my door. I’m hiding outside.”

“Where are you?” Said Tae, his voice cold as ice.

A man with dark locks sprinted from the familiar car, phone in hand. Jimin cursed.

“At the rooftop.”

“Stay there.”

It was Tae. He was coming. Jimin saw him hang up.

The doorman would let him trough, with a fucking smile since he loved Tae, and Tae would march into Soowon. He was the object of his ire, maybe more than Jimin.

Jimin moved for the first time in hours, running down the stairs, his tensed muscles aching. The elevator was on the first floor, and so was probably Tae, seconds away from reaching Soowon.

Jimin would be late. He didn’t know what he would find, he was scared.

He reached his floor sweating, his heart racing wild, making him feel as if he was about to vomit his lungs. Fearing what he would see.

It was Tae wrestling with Soowon, of course. But the surprise factor seemed to have worked in Tae's favor, to Jimin’s huge relief: he had Soowon pressed against a wall, his huge hands clasped on the other’s fists. Both Tae and Soowon seemed ready to rip each other’s throats with their teeth, spitting curses at each other. But both equally shifted his attention towards Jimin once he landed.

“You!” Soowon started “You were with him!”

“Jimin, leave!” yelled Tae, using all his strength to refrain Soowon.

Jimin stood there, paralyzed.

“I was right! You are a whore. Had always been… You were with him all along, ha? Or was he just the quickest fix to your urges?”

Jimin took the blow with a physical reaction, as if really a fist had reached him.

“Shut up.” Tae pressed his elbow against the other’s throat, making him choke. “One more word and I will break your stupid face.”

“Tae, don’t” Jimin begged, he didn’t want him getting in trouble for him. He was torn, trying to move forward to help, but the fear made him stay in the place.

“Jimin, leave. Stay away from this.” Jimin bounced to head to a yes, then a no, and panicked standing still. Tae tried to urge him to move. “The doorman called the police, they would be here in no time. Leave.”

Soowon laughed, even with his arms neutralized and neck in check. 

“And do what? Arrest you for assault?”

He kicked Tae, and he doubled with the blow, which Soowon used to move, but then Tae pushed him again against the wall, making him grumble. Then Tae pressed his full body against him to refrain from any other movement.

“Don’t give me ideas, fucking lunatic. Do you think you can menace and harass people without consequence? That’s what you are doing here. Trespassing, stalking.”

Tae was keeping his cool, but barely.

“He is my boyfriend!”

Soowon yelled, pushing and throwing his arms around. An elbow hitted Tae’s jaw squarely.

“He is nothing yours!” Tae snapped and sunk a punch on Soowon’s stomach, who fell to his knees, breathless. Just in time before footsteps came closer.

Tae rushed towards Jimin, who was shaking, meters away. He groped his face, and put his hair in place, before shielding him with his body of the stares of the people showing up, curious to see what was happening.

“You are cold.” Tae whimpered. He hugged Jimin. Who, to be fair, was cold, but that wasn’t his main reason to be shaking.

His eyes were fixed on Soowon, who looked at him with hate from the floor. Jimin had never been looked at like that, and deep down, he felt he deserved it.

A part of his brain knew that he was safe now. That Tae was there. And that Soowon wouldn’t do anything in front of a public. The neighbors were staring at him: A middle-aged man and his wife from above stairs. A single man from the first floor. The ahjumma in front of Jimin’s entrance was also opening her door.

“I think I deserve an apology,” said Soowon, after rose to his feet with a pained face, a hand on his stomach. “And an explanation. I really can’t talk to you now Jimin? Is that a crime?”

Oh, he was performing now. Playing the victim.

Tae snorted. “Say that to the police, fucking idiot.”

“So I’m the bad guy now? The world is crazy… Jimin, you are the one who cheated! Apologize to me. Take responsibility for your loose arsehole.”

“You!”

Tae almost marched toward Soowon, livid, but Jimin stopped him, grabbing at his arms. Tae basically confirmed the accusations with that outburst. Jimin felt the eyes of his neighbors falling over him, judging. That’s what Soowon was doing now? Trying to humiliate him? He was succeeding.

Jimin won’t cry. He won’t cry. He just lowered his head, to hide himself of all the staring.

Then the ahjumma snapped.

“Watch your mouth! You dare to come here unwelcomed? And make a scene? Grow some balls young men. Leave now or you will meet my pan.” She was already hitting Soowon with a cloth on his hand. “How dare you say such horrible words, at a respectable place…”

“This is a scandal,” the other women joined the old lady, hurling his husband with her. “How can strangers get into the building? Are you okay, honey?” She turned at Jimin in those last words.

He was shocked, so he processed her kindness a bit slowly, but he nodded, better late than never.  Meanwhile Tae assessed the lady and asked.

“Can you look after him for one second?” 

She nodded, happy to help. And right after that, Tae led the angry neighbors, still growing in number and discomfort, to push Soowon out of the building. There was the sound of sirens coming from outside, and Jimin focused on them for a good minute picturing questions, police, a scandal. But Tae was almost instantly back with Jimin, muttering a thank you to the gentle woman, and shushing calming words. And his soft expression echoed

“Let’s go to your flat. You don’t need to talk if you don’t want to,” he said, taking him from his arms.

Jimin nodded.

“Is he going to be arrested?”

“I doubt… but he will have the lecture of his life, that for sure.”

 ***

Tae guided Jimin into his flat, and just before closing the door, the boy descended to the floor, falling to his knees. Tae did his best to avoid him hurting, grabbing at his arm, and pushing towards him.

He ended with a bundle of Jimin between his arms, who finally was crying, shaking, after who knows how long.

“There, there babe. You are safe.” Tae tried to sooth him, but Jimin turned towards him before.

“Are you okay?”

“Sure. He didn’t have a chance.”

Jimin still studied his face with big bambi eyes. Pressed at Tae’s mid and jaw, checking for discomfort.

“You shouldn’t have run towards him.”

“What should I have done? I wasn’t thinking Chimmy…”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what he is capable of. Who I was dating, Tae? Why I’m so fucking scared of him?”

“Shh, shh…” Tae feared the same question. “It’s natural to be scared. But you are fine now. Trust me. I won’t leave you alone…”

Tae hugged him with all his strength and rocked his body, the way he used to cradle his little siblings to sleep. Jimin eased over the minutes, holding with force to him. 

“Thanks for being here for me. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise…”

“I honestly don’t know what you saw on him, but hey, everybody had a crazy ex. And we did challenge him. I did…” Tae felt a massive guilt falling upon him. “I exposed you to this. I’m sorry.”

Jimin sighed, shaking his head.

“He was a freak from the start. Only that he knew well how to hide it, and present himself in a charming way. I fell round.” Jimin let go of Tae, to sit on a chair, and take his head into his hands. “How long was I scared of him? I keep thinking of the things I did to accommodate, and they weren’t normal Tae… I feel dirty. Disgusted with myself. I don’t want to think about him ever again.”

Jimin started scratching his hands, and arms. Like weeping a spider web, annoyed. Tae squatted in front of him and stopped his hands.

“Then don’t. You won’t see him again, I will take care.”

Jimin was still moving as if something itched behind his skin. Tae rubbed him, trying to spread warm with his hands. Jimin was still cold, pale.

“You know what? You should take a bath.”

***

Jimin followed Tae silently, as a lost kid, as he prepared the stuff; a change of clothes, towels- he was well acquainted with the place of things in Jimin’s flat-, hot water running at the shower, then brought a plastic chair, the sturdy one Jimin had on his balcony. 

Jimin looked estranged at that, but then he realized that his standing didn’t project strength exactly: Tae was offering somewhere to sit.

“I will be close, tell me if you need anything,” Tae offered, awkwardly, and Jimin grabbed his sleeve.

“You can stay,” he muttered.

“Okay.” Said Tae, cautious, and mimicked Jimin as he dressed down. He had wanted to talk, before the chaos. Now he didn't have the slightest clue of what to say, or do.

Both left, peace by peace, their clothes neatly folded over the toilet. 

Jimin took his underwear looking down, and walked silently towards the shower. Against the rising mist, he looked like a creature from another world, with his fair skin and graceful movements.

Tae felt a little like a brute in comparison. Taking too much space? He was uncertain about how to proceed.

Jimin took the chair out to make room under the shower, and stepped under the rain, letting out a loud sigh when the water fell over his head, running down his skin and light hair. Tae forced himself to not stare, and just follow him. Jimin gave him space, to also stand under the water.

But Tae kept his distance. Kept half his body relatively dry, inviting Jimin to stand freely in the spot.

“Let me wash your back.” He offered, and Jimin agreed.

Tae took the soap, and diligently put his hands to work, while Jimin relaxed, and let him run his hands over him, thanking with low hums of appreciation. Tae massaged his shoulders, his blades. His lower back. Peace by peace, Jimin seemed to stand more firm, more whole.

He got a bit lost when the back was done. So he took a chance, and went for Jimin’s arms, which drew him deeper under the rain. Soaking now.

“I was worrying you would get cold,” said Jimin, his voice a whisper. He guided Tae’s hands over his arm, which wasn’t far from a hug. Tae slotted his chin over Jimin’s shoulder.

“I’m fine. What about you?”

“I have something to ask you,” said Jimin, turning his head over his shoulder, facing Tae.

His eyes were clouded with worry. Tae could sniff the self doubts from a mile away.

“Did I jump you yesterday?”

“What, no…” Tae oozed as much gentleness and care as he was capable in that negation. He grabbed Jimin from his waist, and turned the boy towards him. “Arguably, I jumped you.”

Jimin sighed, relieved, letting his head rest under Tae’s chin.

“Good, that is good,” said Jimin, resting his wrists against Tae’s chest as well, the tip of his fingers barely touching skin, mustering courage. “Then can I ask you a favor?”

“Just ask.”

“I want to get clean.” His voice cracked. “Wipe every trace of that bastard of me. Can you erase him? Take me?” Jimin’s nails pressed against Tae’s skin, as his head bucked down, pressing, hiding. “I feel dirty.”

“Hey, hey.” Tae soothed Jimin with a kiss to his temple, with firm hands taking hold of him. “I get it. I will. I will.”

Jimin grabbed him with strength, colliding their bodies. Tae breathed hard once, and kept kissing his temple.

“How do you want to do this?”

“Fast? I want to stop thinking.”

Fast and thorough didn’t merge well. Water neither. But Tae thought an option.

“This is what we are going to do. I will shower you, okay? I will render you pretty and clean, just as new. I will prepare you… some fingers up your ass. Do you like how that sounds? And then, I will take you to bed. And blow your mind. Do you agree?”

Jimin nodded, holding his breath. He took well the words, and Tae’s hands groping his ass, to make a point. He looked more horny now, than disgusted- which, great! Tae hated that look. He still seemed a bit desperate, but that could turn sweet in the end.

Tae kissed Jimin gently, but with strength, and pushed them together, dancing under the rain, in a solid grasp, both latching into the other.

***

Tae did a solid job.

Jimin hadn’t a good grasp of his body at the moment, feeling weak, and battered. But still his every nerve, every patch of skin and care was singing with Tae’s caresses.

Jimin had to be the one to propose to leave the water before getting wrinkles, because Tae was too busy kissing his nape, with his crotch hard rubbing against Jimin’s ass, and a hand jerking him off.

There were soft kisses earlier, and gentle rubs, over his entire body. Proficient hands…

But with the fingering things escalated.

Jimin remembered supporting his forehead and arms on the wall, and then everything got foggy. Blessed arousal taking over his mind, filling every corner and second thought with Tae whispering obscenities from behind, with his deep, sulky voice.

Minutes apart Jimin was begging.

“Bed. Take me there” 

Dripping water, they stumbled to Jimin’s room.

Being honest, Jimin knew he wasn’t doing much. He could blow Tae, he could ride him, and he could do way more than just wail and weep between Tae’s arms, under his deep, exquisite, thrusts, that reseted his mind.

But his body wasn’t collaborating. He was lying limp, boneless.

And he was taking secret pleasure in being used. That was the word, used. Tae could keep asking, checking boundaries, playing nice... But Jimin wasn’t even hearing. He was floating, nodding happily to everything. He wanted to see what Tae would do with him, from his own pure volition, and his more impure desires. He was there to take, a free real estate.

And Tae took him without mercy. He took him on his back, on his sides, on his stomach, standing over his arms even when they failed him, dropping his upper half. Tae took his mouth, took his ass. He played with his nipples and dick as if they were made or rubber.

From all the things that Tae did to Jimin, he was innocent. He asked for nothing: It wasn’t on Jimin, for one damn time, what he did to people. He was just a body.

It was on Tae. It was on others. He wasn’t guilty of everything…

His biggest flex had been offering to go raw, if Tae was clean. A practical thing… that left him a bigger mess than he already was, dripping, spent.

It startled Jimin a bit when Tae licked him down there.

“It’s okay?” He quickly checked.

Jimin mumbled yes, over and over again, as he had been doing all night. His words powerless, muffled against the pillows.

And Tae continued, making him ignite and crumble, one more time. Tae seemed to enjoy it for real, because he took a long good time down there, making Jimin scream for more.

He had no strength left. His body wasn’t his. But he still had a voice. He called Tae’s name. Time and time again. Until he had not even his voice, but a rasp, broken murmur. Then he asked again, the second they weren’t skin to skin.

The only thing he actually asked for, once he felt connected to his body again.

“Babe, can you hold me?”

Tae, by his side, panting for air, sat to look at him. Alert. As alert as his spent body allowed him. He grabbed Jimin’s face with one hand, moving the drenched hair, and stroked his cheek.

The gesture was filled with so much tenderness that Jimin almost cried.

“Sure. What do you need, love?”

He moved slowly, aching, towards him.

“Just that. That’s enough.”

Chapter Text

A wise phrasing says: Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.

Well, Jimin had let Tae fuck him an ungodly amount of times in less than 24 hours, as his aching body screamed. At this point it was not only his fault, but Tae’s as well, and even from his neighbors- the poor Ajumma, Jimin cringed- for not giving him some good old fashioned knocks on the ceiling with a broom for all the improper noise at godly hours.

But mostly, being honest, it was his and Tae’s fault. 

Or merit… The service had been hands down five stars. It felt unfair to rate it as something bad, or evil.

They only needed to talk.

There had been a couch and phones implicated, there had been a shower, and a poor bed absolutely defiled. Seen and considered everything, there might be some talking as well, like the responsible adults they supposedly were.

But first, eat!

Jimin woke up around 6 a.m., famished, dehydrated and with parts of his body that he didn’t remember having a tantrum. The sheets around him were a mess, stained with lube, droll, and other many things. In comparison, he was remarkably clean. Someone took care of him, someone who also, thoughtfully left an isotonic drink and bars of chocolate by his spare pillow.

“Thank God,” Jimin assaulted the goods.

He moaned at the sweet taste, looking around absently, and a quick glance at his mirror by the placard scared him at first sight. Holy moly: he looked assaulted. Ravished. Hickeys all over his body, and his mouth bloated. He had dark shadows under his eyes, but in a funny contrast, his skin seemed smooth and fresh- the good old after fucking glow, as people said.

Tae appeared by his door, wearing some of his clothes.

“You woke up.”

They needed to talk, was Jimin’s first reflex.

But second, that Tae took a shower: he looked fresh and presentable, wearing Jimin’s clothes. And now Jimin also wanted –he needed, actually- a quick, real shower: there is a limit on how much a wet cloth can do.

There was hunger as well. The chocolate evaporated from his hands. He needed to eat more. His stomach was defying his sore limbs in the struggle for attention.

“I was cleaning a little. The bathroom is okay, the aisle too. I can tend the bed now, if you want to use the toilet.”

“Wow, thanks,” said Jimin, trying to get on his feet, but his legs felt like jelly. Tae came to his aid, making him feel silly and pampered.

“I see you devoured the chocolate. Want to have breakfast out?”

“Please!” Jimin grunted. “Waffles, I need waffles.”

“I know the place,” Tae smiled.

***

Tae drove them to a very cute bakery, and ordered almost every plate on the breakfast menu. They were shoved with pastries and coffee from the start. Jimin even witnessed an apocalyptic scene: Tae downing a cup of coffee without complaints nor a single face. Then Jimin had his smoothie, and waffles, and just with that became a new whole person, thanks to the power of food.

It wasn’t evident, because they were busy filling their stomachs; and they were appreciating the place –with a spot-on cottage core aesthetic-, the food, and each other’s moans after trying a new thing.

“You have to try this cake,” Tae said, feeding Jimin a spoon that did blow his mind.

Yet, with all the good, and the fucking glow, they were both nervous.

It was Jimin who first addressed the elephant in the room.

“So, first and foremost: thanks. For everything. I’m really still digesting the last 24 hours, but in all that happened, good and bad, you shined. I’ve no words to explain how much you helped me.” Tae was ready to reply, so Jimin hurried his words. “I want to believe that you don’t feel regrets, or feel responsible over things that I earned myself. Do you?”

Tae’s eyes moved in all directions, checking, thinking fast.

“Only about that call. That was me thinking with my dick, and it put you in an ugly situation later. It’s my bad. It was unnecessary.”

“It’s half my responsibility. Don’t beat yourself with that.” Jimin deadpanned. “Now. This may sound obvious, but let me say it… clearly, we feel extremely comfortable fucking each other. And it makes sense. We dated in the past. We are still good friends. We have insane chemistry, that’s a fact.”

“Right.” Tae brought his poker face, to Jimin’s discontent.

“And I do know, that even if I wasn’t in the best mental state yesterday -and probably, the other night as well-, that there is nothing wrong about you and me sleeping together. We are both single, we care for each other. We trust in each other and that's beautiful…”

“But?”

“I can’t help but question myself... Should we be doing this?”

Jimin didn’t have much time to think. Things escalated completely out of his hands. But if he trusted last years’ Jimin, and the strict line he kept with Tae… If he didn’t act on impulse, with his heart on his hand, because look how well that ended the first time… there was a logical action course he had to respect.

***

Tae knew what he wanted. He wanted to be with Jimin.

Be not only a lover, but a partner, his companion.

He was desperate to seize this opportunity that took him years to have. Years of seeing Jimin with other people, years of suffering. But, at the same time, he knew that he wouldn’t do anything if that meant hurting him.

So Tae asked, before anything. Turning the table.

“How are you feeling, with me?”

Jimin laughed. “If we are talking about the sex… Darling, I’m amazed. I’m levitating. And that’s not a minor thing, because I realize now that… In order to put up with things that I shouldn't have, I got detached from myself, and now I don't feel like me… At moments I don't recognize what I feel, and it's scary.” Tae thought so, yesterday night. At moments, brief moments, Jimin seemed miles away. It freaked him out, and made him call for Jimin, desperate for a gaze, a sign. “I repeat, I don’t regret anything of what we did, but at the same time, I don't know what it is? And I don’t want to use you. We know us well, you are great with casual things, but I’m not. You may better keep me one arm away these days.”

Jimin tried to make the last part sound like a joke, but Tae didn’t buy it. He replied instantly:

“No,” hard and loud.

Jimin got a bit shocked by his sudden rudeness.

“You didn’t use me, all right?” stated Tae.

“…All right.”

“And this isn’t just casual sex. I care for you.”

“I know.” Accepted Jimin, with a low voice.

“Don’t ask me to see you in pain and keep my distance. That’s the last thing I want, Jimin. I care…”

Jimin took the words like bullets. He nodded, darting his eyes out, to a window.

“What else are you really scared about?”

“I…” Jimin panicked. That was clearly the question that he didn’t want to answer. He took less and less space, hiding behind the table. But he found his voice, even when cracked and flat. “What if I’m broken? Or if this is just the way I am? Annoying… needy and desperate. One deception after the other. What if I never change? I don’t want you in my mess. If I bore you then what? I know I’m clingy, dependent, and I don’t want you to feel forced to stay around me because of pity.”

“Jimin,” Tae sweetened his voice. “Mess or not, you can rest assured that I will stay. You are my best friend. I can be an asshole, but not to the level of disappearing on you. More probably, I will annoy you to death,” Jimin chuckled, “but you won’t leave either. We can talk things, and work them up. That’s how we do it. We stay around each other, even when it hurts, especially when it hurts.”

Tae’s voice was getting teary, so he tried to resume the idea.

He put it the best he could: the way that most space left Jimin to decide, but firm on one condition.

“I will be whatever you need. Whatever you ask me to. But right beside you.”

Jimin kept silent, pondering thoughts. Tae felt his heart race crazy, sweating cold, waiting.

Then Jimin sighed and toyed with his smoothie. He kept the drink between his hands, scratching the glass.

“I… feel,” he formulated, with grand effort and concentration “that for once in my life, I should try to remain single. This last relationship was havoc. And it was so, because I rushed blindly into it. I’m done with me being like that. I got hurt so much that at this point, it is serious. I’m not enjoying things…” Jimin’s expression was bitter, until it lightened a little. “Clearly with you that was different, but… It’s not reason enough to abuse you: we both know that we don’t work together, in the long term. I don’t want to repeat mistakes.”

Mistakes.

Tae’s heart simply broke. He wanted to ask: We don’t work? Really? 

The Us now? Or our teenager selfs, sharing half a neuron.

But that wasn’t a conversation for now.

Jimin was too shattered.

Disconnected, he said, and said well. He mentioned the first night, how on his last times with Wonshit he felt nothing. And Tae labeled that as something natural in a dying couple; but he saw it yesterday as well, in glimpses.  

Tae could do something to help him. Other than giving him space, and eventually see him snatched by another fool, who had no idea how lucky he was.

He would try. Prove they weren’t doomed.

“If it is so clear, that we don’t make a good pair, won’t last, yet our chemistry is top roof, and it helps you feel as the old you, or just feel something, isn’t a good idea to keep things as they had been happening this far? Without expectations: you can ask me for whatever thing, and I will never judge. It’s a matter of trust, and confidence. We can have a fun time, keep it like that. We are best friends, nothing changes that.”

Jimin listened. That gave Tae hope, and courage to go on.

“I like being with you. I missed you, you know, when you drifted away... I’m just asking to spend more time together, now than we can. And whatever happens, happens.”

It was a request so simple and tender that Jimin wanted to agree. But it was foolish.

“Of course that we will hang out. I missed you too. And the boys.”

“Of course, we can hang out with the boys as well.”

There was an awkward tension in the air. Jimin was pondering the idea, and was clearly conflicted. He sipped his smoothie again, drinking air at this point. Tae was freaking out. Pushing the bar, scared of pushing too far, or not pushing enough.

“Nothing has to happen. We can chill, watch movies, go eating.”

“Let’s take it easy,” said Jimin. “We will see. Can I have another smoothie?”

Tae wasn’t sure of what that meant. 

Jimin called to the waitress, abruptly, to order more, for him and Tae. Cocoa, for Tae. Then he briefly babbled gossip about Hobi, that he had heard yesterday at his dance company. 

Tae saw him rumble nonsense worried at first, but then he noticed Jimin relaxing, bit by bit. So he also eased his mood, and waited for a proper response to his offer.

They overstayed in the shop, trying sweets and eventually, one spicy snack.

That made it clear that Tae was being indulgent with Jimin, because usually, he would never ask for spicy things. Meanwhile Jimin had a great time feeding him disgusting things.

There was a blurry boundary between them, as if they were by the coast, and the tide was changing, with sea foam swaying between them, standing meters apart. Tae was waiting to see where the waves would end.

There was this other topic he wanted to discuss. He prayed to speak at the right time, and that his suggestion was well received.

“I had been thinking. Do you want to spend some days in my house?” Tae offered.

Jimin raised his eyebrows, surprised, “why?”

Tae was up to his tights in the water. Jimin, barely checking the temperature.

“It’s just in case, for Soowon. It would ease my mind knowing that you are not alone. It’s a little exaggerated, I know. But he doesn’t know my place. It would be safe. You can have the bed.”

“Tae…” Jimin sweetened his voice. “I appreciate it. But I don’t want to leave my house.”

“Then let me drive you to work, at least for a few weeks, so you don’t walk alone early in the mornings.”

“That’s sweet.”

Jimin let the tide kiss his foot’s sole. And Tae extended his hand to him, hopeful.

“I can accept that.”

***

It was time to break the news.

Jimin let word spill on his work that he just broke with Soowon and that sightings of him were a serious and unwelcome matter. He didn’t give much details, but the company took the memo, with a worried look and sympathetic eyes.

This time, no one commented on his looks and marks. But they sensed a story.

And Taemin was biting his lips to not fire a question, Jimin knew.

Hobi, his closest friend in the company, and leader, and Yoongi’s boyfriend, almost dragged him to China to talk in private, death worried. More than anything, he wanted confirmation that Jimin was fine; if not, he would call back favors to give him some days off.

Jimin thanked the offer, and promised to give more details through Bangtan Sonyeondan ; his common chat with Yoongi, Hobi, Tae, Namjoon, Seokjin, and Jungkook. The closest between Jimin’s friends.

So he wrote, on his break, a neat and concise story that resumed reasons in jealousy, and mentioned Soowon parading in front of his house as a matter already resolved by the police.

Still, Jimin was bombarded with offerings to crush his friends’ couch, or make a sleepover, and also go out any day that he asked. The boys didn’t want him to be alone.

Maybe Tae’s offering wasn’t that crazy.

Jimin hurried to state that it was enough with Tae and Yoongi offers. He would contact them in case of need.

Jungkook, the lovely maknae, programmed a going out that very weekend, to celebrate Jimin’s bachelor state. Because, details aside, Jimin had dropped a huge death weight and that was worth chupitos, bad decisions, and his weight on cheese balls, at minimum.

The boys agreed.

Jimin accepted his weight on cheese balls as the main bribery.

Almost everybody spoke to him in private later. Everyone but Tae, for obvious reasons. He made his offer clear today. Jimin was the one stalling.

Yoongi passionately demanded details. How the heck did the police get involved?!

Jimin promised to discuss that theme in person. Yoongi was Jimin’s confidant, he owned him the full picture: he had to discuss what transpired with Tae. And however he decided to proceed to that.

Agh… Jimin was torn. On one hand; he really wanted to be with Tae. It was a simple offer. Just flow. Be them... Best friends that occasionally dabbed into more? Wasn't that modern? Idyllic? Not for him… But there was the immeasurable plus to consider, of Jimin feeling light with him. It was so easy being with Tae, being himself in his company.

How long had he been playing other than himself?

On the other hand, it was equally easy, if Jimin was weak and forgot the past, to fall for Tae all over again. Put a mountain of expectations on him that he would never meet.

It was gambling his heart, their friendship: a risk too big.

***

Jimin texted Tae to tell him that this evening Hobi would drive him home. Their friends were fighting to be his escorts… He was exempted from the duty for now, Jimin joked.

Tae insisted that it wasn’t a duty, and that tomorrow morning he would be in front of his apartment early as a bird.

As he wrote that, Tae pictured a rejection and felt paralyzed for a second… Then he pushed himself to write nevertheless, because he used to stand arms crossed in cases of doubt when he was 18, and that let Jimin go. He was a stupid, insecure teenager those days.

He wouldn’t be that stupid twice.

He shouldn’t leave Jimin alone to his demons.

So he proposed to have takeout and movies with Hobi, all of them together. Something innocent, a way to stay around.

Jimin accepted that with a rain of emojis and hearts. That gave away that Hobi was typing...  

That was great, he thought. There would be a buffer between them: Thus way, he wouldn’t push too hard. So he thought.

But he was wrong.

Hobi was a magical thing: A bubble of positivity, physical affection, and the silliest jokes. Inside his area of action -and as long as there wasn’t any choreography involved- everybody would plump his defenses and act lovely dovey under his influence. Wasn't the world a place full of hope?  So, Jimin and Tae, the two best friends, sharing air with Hoba, and being under his attentive eyes, had no public reason to be apart. 

Next logic step, Jimin and Tae were all over each other, with the occasional third person joining the mix, or stealing one piece to smooch by himself. One second Tae was charging Jimin on his shoulder, the next Hobi showered him with kisses.

Jimin was laughing like crazy.

Hobi kept repeating that it was amazing having his friend back.

Coming from someone that still saw him almost everyday at work, it had to mean something…

Later they watched the silliest movie splayed on the sofa together. Jimin lay across Tae and Hobi, his head being groomed by the older, and Tae content tickling his feet at the less expected moment. Jimin eventually fell asleep, and Tae and Hobi let him be, until Yoongi joined the improvised party almost at midnight dragging his feet to Jimin's flat.

He wasn't usually touchy nor a big guy (actually, he was the shortest between his friends) yet swallowed Jimin in a tight embrace as soon as he opened the door.

Jimin, surprised, almost teared up.

“How are you?” Were the first words said. For them Yoongi backed off, and stared, with his knowing all dark eyes.

“Fine,” Jimin barely articulated, high pitched. And something in him, or Tae, or Hobi perhaps must have given him away in some convincing way, because after an only seconds long scan where Yoongi’s eyes darted over him and every person present he nodded and gave him another hug, declaring:

“Snaps tomorrow. My place.”

Jimin nodded again, without words and held tight to his friend. He was about to start crying because something deeply tied between him was being undone with all the affection, but Hobi saved him of the embarrassment:

“Honey, I'm not a jealous man, but can I at least kiss my man hellou? Then you can resume being adorable and cutesy together” said the other dancer.

Jimin bursted, laughing, just as Tae.

“Please, I must record this: How the stone cold black cat bends, to the latin menace.”

Jimin laughed again, at Tae's improvised nicknames; 

Yoongi was uncomfortable, but he was a pushover as well, so he went and gave Hobi a deep kiss in front of the other two, utterly shocked.

Hobi just hummed, clinging to him. As if this was the most natural thing.

They were dating for around a month now, probably. There still was this electric energy between them going strong. Hunger.

It was a little awkward to see, so Tae begged for some affection from his hyung as well, and got a pat on the head mixed with a glare, and the four slotted themselves as they could into Jimin’s two person sofa. Yoongi sitting over Hobi, and Jimin with Tae.

“Let's see a movie,” asked Yoongi, burying his face in Hobi’s neck. “I'm dead tired”.

Hobi and Yoongi’s public displays. That was new. Revolting.

But it was nothing atypical for Jimin and Tae. They had been like that a million times before.

The group’s acclaimed best friends.

Yet Tae felt Jimin’s heartbeat rise, when he pressed his chin to the other’s shoulders as well to watch the movie. Tae inhaled Jimin’s citric perfume, and thought of sea wind and ties, while Jimin toyed with Tae’s fingers, with his eyes fixed in the movie. Teeth grasping his lower lip, now and then.

Silence fell into the group with Yoongi’s calm energy neutralizing Hobi’s bubbly energy; or more accurately, recharging with it.

It was quiet and comfy for a while.

With silly remarks here and there. Giggles when Yoongi almost passed out ten minutes into the film, slightly snoring.

But then there was a smooch sound lost in the living room around minute thirty.

Yoongi had awaked, it seemed.

Tae giggled and Jimin covered Tae’s mouth with his hand, to muffle his laugh.

And Tae pecked at it, tempted.

They stood quiet, shaking with mirth. There were more smooch sounds coming from the couple at their side, hidden by the lights out. Jimin and Tae stubbornly looked forward to the TV. And since Jimin said nothing about Tae’s peck, he gave another to his neck, then his hair.

Jimin allowed it, his fingers tracing circles over Taes’.

Each circle hitting Tae like lightning.

And before doing something more stupid, or hearing a blatant moan that made things worse, Tae called out to the couple at their side.

“Guys, sure you don’t want to be left alone?”

“I have a decent room,” offered Jimin, “it doesn’t have your smart pillows, or noise proof walls, hyung. But keeping it low in concurred places would serve you well as practice.”

Yoongi got fiery red and attempted to leave, against a laughing Hobi who was enjoying the teasing, and keeping his man grabbed by the hip.

But eventually Yoongi won.

The group marched at the door together. And there something funny happened. Tae was ready to leave, but Yoongi asked if Tae was staying.

“That’s a good idea,” insisted Hobi.

“Take good care of him,” bestowed Yoongi, putting his wide palm over Tae’s shoulder.

“Next time we will come prepared to stay, bring the pillows, and maybe a gag,” winked Hoseok.

And Yoongi, ashamed, ran down the stairs.

Jimin and Tae bursted in tears, laughing, falling against each other.

“Ah, I love them,” said Jimin. “I’m so proud of my matchmaking.”

“I must confess I didn’t see their potential at first. But it’s growing on me. Good eye.”

Tae saw Jimin smile genuinely, and he smiled in reflex. Then force himself to take a step down, outside the door.

“I should leave. See you tomorrow?”

“Don’t you wanna stay? It’s late” 

Tae’s heart skipped.

“Sure.”

Jimin offered Tae to share his toothbrush, he accepted. Then some clothes to sleep, and got rejected: that wasn’t necessary. Tae remembered Jimin that he used to sleep in boxers, if not naked; just boxers then, they silently agreed on. He was fine with a blanket, he insisted, and Jimin laughed.

“Don’t be silly. Come to bed with me.”

Tae returned to his visions of the beach. And in them Jimin was walking slowly into the water, laughing, because it was cold.

Tae took off his clothes quickly, at Jimin’s back, trying to be respectful, quickly fumbling under the sheets later, owning the right side of the bed- as their old habits marked. Yet Jimin saw him change through his mirror.

Jimin followed him, only after a long ritual. He changed into his silk pajamas. Took off his earrings, brought some water, for him and Tae, put on an early alarm, turned off the lights and only then got in the bed, stationed almost in the middle, close to Tae.

***

“Want to cuddle?”

“Sure.”

Jimin took Tae’s arm and turned, bringing it with him, making Tae hug him. 

And of course, Tae embraced him with all his body. Kiss to his nape, and legs and arms surrounding him. All very chaste, nothing provoking, or unnecessary. Only a thumb rubbing Jimin’s hand as he inhaled his scent. Tae was happy with this. They stayed like that for maybe half an hour, or fifteen minutes. It felt way longer.

Their respiration never easing into sleep.

Jimin turned inside Tae’s hug, to see him face to face. Tae was also completely awake, waiting for a signal. Jimin took pity on them.

“You don’t need my permission to come after me, you know? It’s fine. It's a nice feeling myself wanted.” he said.

“Oh yeah?”

Tae’s tone was incredibly soft, a whisper. Beyond the mirth in his tone, was genuine surprise.

“Yeah, I could covet some nice times, for now.”

Jimin hadn't decided. He wasn't sure what he could offer, but still, it was an offer.

The evening had been somehow perfect, and Tae’s soft kisses in the dark had only left him wanting more. He knew he could have more. It would do him well, more than over thinking things.

He was feeling light now.

He could use that lightness, as long as it spanned on a contained window of time.

Tae got closer, moving his arms and legs.

“Will you tell me if it gets uncomfortable? More than you can handle?”

Jimin smiled with tenderness. “Sure.”

“Okay,” said Tae.

“Okay,” echoed Jimin, waiting.

There was an awkward silence, until Tae prompted himself forward, to meet Jimin’s lips. Slowly, with no real pressure. Only his even respiration meeting Jimin’s. Letting lips brush against each other with all the time of the world.

A lazy make out. Without rush or pretensions.  Both boys lying over his sides, barely touching, Yet the air filled with the dry noises of a tiny thousand pecks.

Jimin left one hand over Tae’s chest, feeling his heartbeat going strong. Meanwhile Tae tapped at Jimin’s waist, moving his thumb in circles over the soft skin. Later the hand opened and went down to Jimin’s belly.

There was something so stupidly intimate about having one’s belly caressed. He even had some issues with it, usually avoiding it with new lovers. But Jimin pictured himself as a lazy cat being pampered now, and laughed a bit, breaking the kiss.

“What is it? It tickles?”

“No. I like it. Is just that…” the hand stopped, splayed over Jimin’s stomach. He took it and brought the palm to his mouth, kissing it with tenderness. “It feels new, but I know it isn’t. I like your kindness. I almost forgot you could be like this after, you know...”

Yesterday's sexthone? What do you call something like that?

Tae smiled and came closer, their chests touching now, and one leg going over Jimin’s calves as well. Jimin didn’t let the chance slip away, and also pushed one knee between Taes’, intertwining their legs.

They resumed their kiss, with Tae taking a few detours to chuck at Jimin’s chubby cheeks, and pointy nose. Jimin smiled with eyes closed and his lower lips imprisoned under his teeth.

“I’m more like this than that. You know... But what do you prefer?”

“Mh… I can do both.”

“Greedy!”

“I like versatile men.”

“Dominant, but gentle, also sexy… what else do you want?”

“Humble?”

“Sorry, can’t do that.”

Jimin scorned and rotated over Tae, resting his weight over one arm, looking at the boy’s face from a few centimeters above. He extended a hand and took some rebel hairs from Tae’s forehead to see him better.

“You are lucky to be this handsome. It makes me forget your idiocy.”

“It’s only a you effect. I got stupid around you. Can’t process this much beauty.”

Jimin received the compliment without much grace. It took him by surprise, and got a bit shy, even when he loved that smooth pick up. He looked to the side, a bit blushed, and Tae grabbed him by the chin to see at him again, meeting their gazes.

“God, you are so beautiful, I can’t explain.”

Taking the chance, Tae went up to kiss Jimin, and with very swift, calculated movements, he drove him against the mattress again, standing over him. 

Just like that Jimin found himself, no longer over, but below Tae, cornered between his arms.

His heart raced at the way Tae looked at him.

As if Jimin was the prettiest thing in the world.

He wasn't.

He was wearing old pajamas. Somewhere in his face was a pimple. He was, positively, a mess, after the two last days, beyond tired.

Yet Tae looked at him as if he had invented the fire. As if he was the fire itself. A mesmerizing flame.

“What do you like the most about me?”

“Sorry?”

“What’s so beautiful? Tell me,” asked Jimin.

“Pff.” The response was immediate. “Hard to tell love, let me see.”

Tae went down and kissed Jimin’s neck. First making pressure only with his lips, pushing his nose, breathing. Then opening his mouth, licking, sucking. Taking a spot and saying mine . Jimin gasped in silence, opening his mouth wide to inhale, exhale, and curl his body at the sensation.

“I like your scent, your voice as well, but that’s not a thing.”

“Mhh. Then what?”

Tae started descending, with his hands pulling up Jimin’s shirt, then tracing Jimin’s arms, while his mouth stayed over his chest. Before playing with his nipples, he made sure to grab Jimin by the wrists because he did shake on the place from the very first kiss: his body going up, asking for more, then twitching on place when Tae bitted the knob, and sucked and licked it as if it was the sweetest thing on the world.

Jimin was tapping the mattress with his palm when Tae got the kuddo of keep going because it was turning too much.

He still was a bit sensitive, considering the abuse from yesterday.

So Tae passed to kissing Jimin’s sides.

“I also like how you look so delicate. I know you are not. You are strong, athletic. But there is so much elegance in the way you move. Look how you turn now. The way you arch. I love it.”

Tae kept grabbing Jimin by the hands and playing with his stomach, his waist, and later his hips bones. Giving kisses that seemed feathers passing.

“But I’m a simple man, I’m also a big fan of your tights.”

Tae went straight to bite Jimin’s inner thigh, he bit close to his crotch, and almost got kicked by Jimin, who jolted and got free at the surprise.

“You are crazy,” he screamed, laughing as a maniac.

Jimin tried to grab Tae, wrestle. And they played at grabbing each other’s hands and breaking the other’s clutch. Tae cheated peppering kisses all over, especially on Jimin’s hands and wrists.

“I like your cheeks. They look sweet, that suits you.”

“And your nose, small and delicate.”

“And that mouth of yours, the only one I want.” 

Tae sweet talked Jimin into more kisses, and it worked. He laid once again over him, but now letting his whole weight fall over the boy, hugging him, touching him, their bodies naturally accommodating to each other’s shape.

Jimin took the liberty and sneaked his hands under Tae’s boxer, his only cloth: he liked that booty, he grabbed it.

He loved the heat radiating from Tae’s body, his whole skin burned. Also the friction at their middle, with the brush of garments, as if they were still horny teenagers making out between classes; or a door away from their parents, fighting to be silent.  

Jimin made a lewd sound, just because he could now, and prompted Tae to remove their clothes.

“I want to touch you,” he said. And he did, he reached for some lube in his side table, and squeezed some on his hand. Then his hand went south, followed by Tae’s bewildered eyes.

But there wasn’t much more foreplay. Jimin rocked Tae until having him at his full size, and then asked, innocent.

“Can you fuck me now?”

Tae let his head fall, growling.

“Aren’t you stiff or hurting? I still can pleasure you…”

“I’m not. Just be gentle, as you had been this far. So good to me.”

Tae growled again and Jimin laughed. The boy was easy to convince.

“Okay. On your side. I will go slow.”

Jimin nodded, and accommodated as a little spoon.

Tae grabbed the lube and splayed it over his entrance, while dropping kisses to Jimin’s neck.  He took his sweet time stretching the boy, hearing his voice cracking to soft whimpers.

“Do you mind rushing a bit?”

“I don’t want to hurt you, love.

“But you won’t… I’m so ready”

Jimin feigned some annoyance, moving his torso to avoid Tae’s kisses, when in true; he enjoyed the fingering and smooches. And Tae knew, he noticed him trembling. Plus, it was quick work. Meanwhile, Tae’s dick was firm against his leg, rutting. Keeping Jimin’s lower half in place.

“You are so impatient.” Tae teased him, when Jimin pushed against Tae’s middle.

Tae kissed his nape one last time and announced.

“There I go.”

Jimin felt the long fingers giving space to the head, and then the length, pushing his walls. The unholy friction of skin against skin, opening him slowly.

Jimin curved against Tae, gasping out loud.

God, he was really sensitive. It ached. It ached badly. The generous lube hadn’t been an exaggeration. Yet, the feeling seconds later was exquisite.

“Fuck, so tight.” Tae pressed his forehead against Jimin’s nape, his voice hoarse.

One hand went to Jimin’s neck, the other to his belly, then Tae brought him closer and sunk deep, in a long, steady push, that made him curse. Jimin did the same, when the intrusion left him without air.

They took some seconds to accommodate, then Tae moved. A bit backwards, then in, out, a bit up.

“Son of a bitch,” said Jimin.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shut up. It’s perfect.”

Tae shacked, with a contained laugh. He didn’t have enough air to purvey a sound.

“Okay. Tell me if anything.”

Tae thrusted in and out. Deep, hard. Going all the way in, with a breathless cry every time.

To what Jimin’s responses were a few more curses, many gasps, needy whines and jolts at some violent waves of pleasure. Jimin’s hands joined Tae’s hold on his waist, and guided the way below, asking Tae for it. “Please?” said Jimin, “Yeah, yeah,” responded Tae, and neither of them sounded like themselves. There was a suffocated edge on their words. Something too raw.

It was too deep, too tight, too close to bear.

And there was only one way to make it worse: more intimate.

It wasn´t clear who moved first. Or Tae went closer, moving up Jimin’s neck, or Jimin just bent his upper body. Probably both acted at the same time, moving to kiss at the lips, colliding with want and desperation.

Only one second away they were already reorienting themselves, hugging desperately. A leg crossed over some hip. Arms twirled over a neck, hands rooted in the hair. Lips rubbing, getting wet and swollen. Sensitive and well loved. 

The kiss did break, after some mean pushes that went in too hard. They made Jimin scream, and grab his sheets, head falling back. 

In a trance, Tae kept pushing, looking amazed at his lover pleading for more.

Jimin was shaking after every shove. Swallowing screams by biting his lips. Caressing his own hair and skin with delicate hands until they went stiff around his head.

His entire body was building tension.

A sight to behold, how the back arched and the skin blushed red. But Tae suddenly needed more than the sight.

Tae grabbed at Jimin’s legs and moved his both knees up his shoulders: the angle allowed more penetration, so now the two boys were muffling screams, barely. Tae against Jimin’s skin, and Jimin covering his mouth with one hand.

He was almost gone, staring at the ceiling with clouded eyes. So he called for Tae, blindly reaching for him, his face. 

“Baby, Tae, come here…”

Tae catched his hand immediately, and he let Jimin’s legs fall to the sides to be able to kiss him. Kiss him deeply one more time, thrusting hard one last time, with an abandoned moan dying in Jimin’s parted lips when their climax peaked. 

It found them with their hands laced, and Tae’s forehead resting against Jimin’s chin, shaking.

They could have drifted away, caught by the sudden wave; sea foam, sparkles and all the fireworks. Still, they kept their close grasp until coming back to senses. Then they remembered, almost with pain and a sight, that they were two people. 

Separate people with edges and natural limits tracing where one ended and the other started.

That felt wrong. So Jimin moved, as soon as he could, to embrace Tae tight against him.

“Stay. Stay like this, a little longer.”

Tae replied, with a sleepy and tender voice, returning the embrace.

“As long as you wish, love.”

Chapter Text

It took three times. Maybe it was the charm, maybe it was the fact that they fell asleep still tangled, but the third morning, Jimin and Tae woke up at the same time.

They didn’t rush.

First Jimin twitched, barely awake, and realized that he had half his body thrown over Tae’s. He was so, so warm. It was delightful. Unwilling to lose that warm, he got even closer and dropped his head further over his chest.

The rhythmic sound of his heart luring him.

Then Tae inhaled a deep breath, an audible, lazy one, that made his chest rise high, but his heartbeat stayed low and peaceful. With eyes still closed, his hands gently traced the shape against him, his thumbs making ascending circles until finding Jimin’s scalp and scratching, making him hum.

One of Tae’s knees went up, and Jimin had to accommodate himself, moving upwards. His face reached Tae’s neck, inhaling his musky scent. It was familiar, lovely, and grounding. Jimin nuzzled further, lost in the basic sense, and Tae curled against him: his arms around him became heavier, and wrapping him moved Jimin to his side.

Forehead to forehead, with eyes still closed, Tae caressed Jimin’s face, Meanwhile Jimin hugged his middle and squeezed one leg between Tae’s.

Settled again, both seemed relentless to move, save for the caressing hands and noses kissing.

They stayed like that for a good while, a sadly finite amount of heaven, until Tae opened his eyes, and found Jimin staring at him.

He moved his head a little backwards, to look back, and he met an impossible charged stare.

And without words in between, because he couldn’t find the right ones to honor the absolute joy and peace of waking up like this, Tae retraced the distance between them and kissed Jimin softly on the lips. A long kiss, a soft peck, that lasted many, many breathings and distant prayers pressed together.

Eventually Jimin broke it, giggling, only to climb over him and kiss him more deeply.

***

There was a sort of intimacy that Jimin only associated with pillow talks, and naked bodies. A delusion of proximity and union capable of tainting every conversation with a warm hue. A desire so deep, that although feed, only grows larger like a wildfire.

Jimin knew it, but the memory was tricky. It was deceiving.

It wasn’t supposed to last this long.

Even after leaving the bed, and a shower, in between a hazy breakfast filled with easy jokes and dazzling smiles, the effect didn’t seem to wear out. Jimin still felt the violent urge, whenever looking at Tae, of crossing over the distance between them and kissing him.

Across tables, car boards, doors.

As an electric force between them, so strong, that he was sure that if he squeezed his eyes, a string pulling between them would appear.

And Jimin indulged half the time, going all the way to kiss him, breath him, lay his hands on him with fervor. And when he did not, then Tae was the one crossing over, coming to him, pulling him in a heated embrace.

They were fifteen again, unable to keep their hands off each other.

***

Tae drove Jimin to work, and parting was the hardest thing he could do.

And Jimin seemed to be on the same page.

Tae didn’t want to let him go. When Jimin walked out from the car it took all his self control to not follow him and catch him. Y ou don’t need my permission to go after me , he said. And good Lord, he would do. With Jimin’s explicit consent on the table, he was ready to take all the ground available.

He couldn’t retreat. He feared that if he did so, Jimin would change his mind. The electric air between them would disappear.

But between them was now a raw wire. Jimin turned to the car, right after opening the door to his studio. Their eyes locked. And Tae let go of his safety belt, quicked the door open, and marched quickly to Jimin’s side for a parting kiss.

“See you tonight?” he said, still clutching Jimin’s face.

He looked bewildered. With a lovely red hue in his face, and eyes darting around. Tae feared his response. But Jimin said “yeah”, and kissed him back.

***

Nobody saw them. Even through Taemin’s suspicious “Good morning, right?”, nobody had seen them.

What his colleagues did see was Jimin smiling alone until his cheeks burned. Him spacing every time he wasn’t driven by muscular memory: he simply stood immobile in water breaks, remaining silent when called out loud. He almost stumped on the barre that had always been dividing the floor, in the middle of the main practice room.

The closest to him in the company seeing his pleased face teased him endlessly and Jimin couldn’t help but smile and lower his head. Those not well attuned whispered about him coming too soon, maybe needing some days of.

Things that Jimin never heard, consumed typing:

I can’t stop thinking about you.

It was a message that should have never been sended. Inappropriate. Needy. Yet, completely true. Jimin’s mind kept wandering to last night. To the morning. The previous nights. The memories made him feel hot all over. And smile. And wonder.

He really wanted to know if Tae was feeling the same. Or something similar. He had to, it was buzzing between them. So he wrote to him, during some stretching exercises where distractions were welcomed to divert him from the ache on his body.

His well used body. God bless.

But no response came in the immediate minutes ahead. And the exercises changed and he had to focus on his balance, drop the phone.

So five minutes into it Jimin stopped the practice apologetically and went to the bathroom. And nothing.

Made a little pause three series later. Inhaled. Exhaled.

Stretched.

Checked the phone.

And no texts. Nothing. Not even blue birds because Tae had that feature disabled.

Jimin sighed, and returned to practise beside Hoseok. He wasn’t looking at him, probably didn’t notice, but still, being Hoseok, he hugged at the passing Jimin and smacked a kiss on his cheek, making him feel better.

Was it really buzzing? Or it was just him…

It was no big deal. Tae was working after all. It was natural that he wasn’t able to answer. Probably he still hadn’t seen the text.

He dropped the phone by the corner of the studio, only to come back to it and find it empty at every break, and sigh each time.

***

Jimin was enjoying a snack with his group around the kitchenette, the phone burning in his pocket, when he catched a conversation from the adjacent room.

“But what if they are from his ex?”

“Let me see them… Oh. Those spirea ones. It’s fine. Those always come when we have opening nights, from way before the asshole appeared.” said Yuujin, who had changed companies with him years ago.

Jimin, who had heard by chance the word ex had listened carefully to what followed it. But it made no sense to him until her friend appeared by the door, wiggling his eyebrows and carrying a massive bouquet of white roses and pink spireas. A very familiar one, almost bridal like in beauty. Jimin’s mouth fell open.

He had received that exact bouquet for the last five years easily in every premiere.

With no card, of course.

“For you,” said Yuujin, carrying the flowers towards him with a wide smile and wiggling eyebrows, right in front of half the company who were very aware of his relationship status.

Allegedly single.

This time there was no name either, but there was a little brief in the bouquet.

Under the piercing gaze of the team he grabbed it, with his face flushed red. He opened it with clumsy hands, as he tried to bring the little papier inside against his body so Yuujin couldn’t read it. Which she was desperately trying to do.

The little note said: I also can’t stop thinking of you.

And Jimin made a show of himself dropping to the floor in a ball, one hand covering his face and the other hugging the flowers.

***

Tae had a young girl at the counter the moment Jimin got into the shop. The customer, probably a university student judging by her backpack, was asking for instructions about how to better preserve the flowers and he was happily running the basics: change water, cut the stems. He was showing her the different feed sachets they had, when a blond head flashed through the mirrored showcase and glass door.

His hands jolted when the entrance bell rang and all the samples he was holding fell to the table.

“Oh. Sorry, I… You know what. You can have one from each,” he flashed a smile towards the short  girl, who blushed in response as he picked the little bags at full speed.

Jimin walked until a meter behind her, still dressed with his dance tights, and only a light open jacket over them. The bouquet of roses and spireas that Tae had prepared earlier hung from his right hand. His hair was a little tousled around. His figure seemed definitively ethereal, among all the flowers of the shop.

Yet his eyes were fixed on Tae, with a tangible strength. There was an alert expression on his face, with high eyebrows and a pressed smile.

“Really? It's not necessary. I can pay,” insisted the girl.

“Please. It's a courtesy from the house.”

Tae tried to keep his eyes over her. But they strayed toward a smiling demon at her back. Jimin wasn't entertaining himself with some leaves or ceramics to buy time, from courtesy. He was direct on the line, making pressure. The girl noticed and made space quickly.

“All right. Thank you very much. You have been very gentle and patient with me. Wish you a nice day and hope to see you again,” she said flustered, walking backwards and bowing, like an apologetic cartoon.

Jimin turned his head, barely muffling a laugh, as she passed him.

“It's my duty. And thank you, have a nice day as well. You know where to find us, the next time,” Tae graced her, also half bowing.

“Thank you!” She yelled, skipping the door, and fast walking with his black red camellias array covering his redder face.

Tae exhaled as Jimin brought his own bouquet to the counter, his stomach was playing athletic jumps. He had been reckless and full of himself when he sent him flowers earlier. There was no need to use the signature bouquet he used for the shows, yet he did. Now, with Jimin´s dangerous smile in front of him, almost evil, he wasn't that certain of it being the right move.

“So. Do you flirt with all your customers, or just the cute ones?” Jimin teased him.

Tae laughed nervously, and decided to take off his gloves in order to give time to his breathing to ease. They fell beside the Jimin’s flowers. One of his hands was also there, very close. Tae felt the urge to lay his own hands there as well, and tease a finger against it.

Fuck it, he did it. And inclined forward to whisper:

“With all new customers, old sweet ladies, and regulars as well. House politics. A cute front face always helps with sales.”

Jimin's hand twitched toward his own hand, their little fingers colliding, as he let his head fall behind laughing out loud. His light touch hitted Tae as lighting.

“And I must say, I don't remember your pretty face ever buying here. Do you need an incentive maybe?”

Jimin didn't bother to answer. He grabbed Tae´s collar and when he bounced back from laughing stamped a kiss on Tae's lips. Possessive and needy. Tae had to spray his hand on the table to not lose balance. A pleased hum escaped his throat.

Everything disappeared during a heartbeat. Or five, or six. Tae opened his mouth and Jimin devoured him, hanging from him as if he could bring them body to body despite the table in between.

Tae´s hands went for Jimin's waist, but changed direction midway, opening the gate of the counter for him. Then briefly breaking the kiss, pushed the boy from his clothes towards his side of the shop. Beyond the first wall that offered minimal coverage.

There Tae pressed Jimin against the wall and all his body against the other.

The distinctive scent of Jimin´s skin hit him, fully impregnated on his dancing clothes. It made his stomach twirl as when riding an elevator. Jimin kissed him again. Stronger this time, bruising his mouth and chin, and Tae´s hands went direct towards his ass as muffled moans died between them.

“Good morning, is anyone there?”

A voice raised from the front.

“Fuck,” Tae raised his head. He recognized that voice. Was Mrs. Cho, a regular. Right! She had an order waiting for her. Like almost twenty stupid big central arrangements, for a party. She was in the wedding market.

Jimin laughed against his neck, still very tempted, and pushed him away.

Tae had to hold his breath to calm himself before speaking, and fixing his clothes.

“Coming! I´d be there in one second, Miss Cho.”

“Alright dear.”

He stamped a last kiss in Jimin's mouth, and parted to receive the woman. When he was still greeting her, with hands held in an affectionate way, Jimin came to the counter and sat in Tae´s stool, visibly inspecting the exchange with the almost fifty year old woman.

“Oh, he is my friend, Park Jimin. He is helping me today. We have a lot of work, luckily. There's people showing every minute!”

“Then I won't keep you for long dear. Just came to retire the central bouquets.”

“On it. Jiminah, would you mind helping me?”

They moved the arrangements waiting by the left wall, under the effusive approval of the old lady who praised his mainly strength and swift work. Jimin, bathed in compliments, kept laughing and beaming in the best of spirits. When the woman left he also squeezed hands with her.

Then both stood there side by side waving until she was completely gone.

“My god, all your clients ogle you that way? I might consider swapping jobs. Could use all that validation.”

“Only my favorites.”

Jimin turned, inspecting the place. The decoration, the different bouquets in displays.

“Those arrangements were beautiful. But I like mine better. You have an eye for beauty.”

“I have.” Tae grabbed Jimin by his waist elastic, and after checking that no person was at the immediate door, brought the boy closer and kissed him soft and sweet.

Then pushed Jimin a meter away.

“That's it. I can't have you closer or I won't answer for myself, and my boss won't like that once he returns.”

“A shame. But I get it.”

“What are you doing here?” Tae clarified quickly, scared of sounding rude: “I thought you would have dinner with Yoongi after work?”

“Just drinks, I will, I'm only passing... I wanted to see you. And thank you, for the flowers.”

“You liked them?”

Jimin’s smile became soft.

“I loved them. Although everybody at the company asks me now who my secret admirer is.”

“Who is him, indeed?”

“You sent those flowers, all these years?” The soft smile slowly faded, replaced by a fragile look.

“They are your favorites. I never forgot. You deserved them, in your big nights. For all the hard work.”

Something on Jimin’s face chapped, like old porcelain. His eyes were suddenly glassy.

“Tell me, did you ever miss one of my shows?” asked Jimin, searching Tae's face with an open expression.

“Not since I returned to Seoul,” Tae lied.

Actually, he never missed a date, not even before, cities apart, when he was supposed to keep his distance. Tae had managed to always be there on Jimin's biggest dates. He was his fan after all.

Jimin laughed, a crooked laugh, and then hiccuped. His eyelashes fluttered, as tears made his eyes shine. He pushed at Tae´s arm, without strength.

“I was so stupid. I always thought it was one of my aunts. You are so stupid too! Leave a card!”

Tae grabbed the fist with which Jimin had hit him. He opened it and massaged Jimin´s palm, as he used it as an anchor to keep him close. He was embarrassed, covering his face with his other hand. He was impossibly cute like that. Tae cackled.

“It wasn't about me.”

“So stupid. I'm tired of you. I might go.” Jimin pushed him far away and Tae brought him closer, almost between his arms, in a playful way.

“If you wait for my boss, fifteen minutes or so, I can ask him for a break and drive you to Yoongi.”

They looked into each other's eyes. Tae knew that if he kissed Jimin there, it would be welcomed. The absurd proximity between them, that made everything feel allowed, was still alive. As far from reality that delusion was.

Yet, it was not the moment, nor the place.

Not for the kiss he wanted to give.

“Please let me drive you.”

“All right,” Jimin said with a voice like honey.

They sat behind the counter, in parallel high stools. Both were using his hands for balance. But their legs were side by side, maintaining touch and warmth between them.

“You know. Neither Soowon (no surprise), but also often Donghyun didn'talways  come to my premiers. Work was always on the way, they said. Yet Yoongi always came, the proverbial workaholic. And now you… I don't ask for much, is that hard?”

“It's not hard. It's a pleasure. And you should ask for more. Flowers, dinners, parties if you might.”

“Yoongi gifted Hobi a spa day after the last opening,” Jimin wiggled his eyebrows.

“Smooth. A spa day then.”

“Nah. That's not for me.”

“What do you want then?”

“The flowers are neat. Thank you again… And breakfast in bed, I suppose would be great. I´m always famelic the morning after openings.

“An international breakfast is. Noted.”

Jimin balanced himself over his stool, to let his head fall over Tae's shoulder.

“I'm tired, Tae. I won’t foster illusions only to have them grow into disappointments. Just flowers will do. I can trust you with that.”

A punch.

Jimin´s sadness echoed and multiplied inside Tae.

“That's such a little thing. I can do much more, Jimin.” His voice was a prayer, as frail as Jimins. His head turned towards the one at his shoulder.

“I know you can. But I don't intend to pressure you with expectations that aren't meant for you.”

A bubble of illusions busted. Tae downed saliva, throat clenching.

After all the positions he thought he had advanced, he found himself one square behind his starting point. When? When did this happen?

“This is okay, enough for today,” Jimin said as he pecked Tae´s cheek, “I must bite only what I can swallow,” then said as he rested his open mouth and teeth against Tae´s shoulder.

What did this mean?

He wanted his trust, he wanted Jimin’s expectations over him, but Jimin was still guarded. Of course that Jimin was guarded. He had every right too… This fragile thing was barely starting. An unfortunate word could bust it.

Tae forced a laugh at Jimin´s misleading words and actions and just picked the innuendos. That was easy. Safe.

“You put a worrying image in my head, mixing teeth and swallow.”

Jimin cackled, briefly. Then he bit again, as Tae nuzzled briefly against his crown. Both of them uncertain, hands gripping their chairs. 

“You were warned. Will you still let me?” Jimin raised his face, closing the gap between them.

“Honey, what would I not let you do to me?” Said Tae, going for his mouth again, after a last check to the front.

***

Yoongi and Jimin had a settled dynamic in their meetings. Usually Jimin talked, and Yoongi heard. Yoongi offered food, a safe space (usually his studio because, workaholic ) and most important the gentility of never judging whatever Jimin said. And Jimin in exchange vomited words without filtering to try and unravel whatever issue had taken over his mind.

Often, it was as good as therapy.

It worked like a ritual. A dance.

Jimin would offer the booze. Yoongi the food. They would sit with the things in the middle, untouched; exchange a few polite questions tiptoeing the main dish (how are things in the company? Is that new song going well? you have to see my new jacket!), until a charged silence of Jimin and Yoongi’s gaze turning to the side would give space for the most outrageous and blind confession:

Jimin always started with a bang.

Yet Yoongi never reacted, just stayed there, plain as a stone.

Like a comedy show: Jimin would select the most polemic phrasing to start his monologue, and serve drama, while Yoongi would simply stare ahead, or to the infinite below, part his lips slightly and after savoring the momentum just say:

“I knew it.”

Because he always, always, already knew it. He figured it out. Somehow. Even when Jimin himself was surprised by whatever he was clacking about.

But not this time.

When Jimin came into the little dark studio, sporting his hair a mess and his mouth blotched red, he spurted in Yoongi’s face as soon as he opened the door, with no gentilities, or small talk:

“Sorry I’m late. I was busy blowing Tae on his car, in a packed street. I made him come in less than two minutes. You have to forgive me ‘cause I made a real effort, Hyung, to be on time.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” said Yoongi, sweeping Jimin with his gaze, and gatekeeping his door as the boy tried to squeeze in. “I knew it! And no, no no. Go wash those hands or you are not welcomed here!”

Jimin went to the next door, to wash his hands and face, all laughing like a maniac while Yoongi recovered himself. “You should have seen your face!”

“You are an idiot!”

“I am. I know I am.” he tapped Yoongi on the shoulder while passing, clean now, coming back.

“And I knew you were fucking! I called it yesterday! And Tae not speaking in the group when you told us about Soowon was also suspicious as fuck… Did you split up because of him?”

“What? No. He was a psycho, that’s why. I forgot the booze, sorry,” said Jimin sitting in front of the small table that was ready with snacks. Yoongi just waved a hand and took a whisky from a drawer on his desk. Jimin whistled. Yoongi poured. Both of them took a hazed first shot.

“And how long has this been going on?”

Jimin quickly moved his eyes up and to the side before answering.

“Three days and a Sexthone.”

Yoongi’s eyebrow twitched.

“Didn’t you call it off with the idiot like three days ago too?”

“Yeah… That’s a funny story. I insist, he isn’t the reason. But I did go to Tae’s after the break up, to wind up. And because I’m stupid and weak I fucked with him instead, and not happy with that we spoke telephonically with Soowon while doing it.”

“You what?!”

“That was Tuesday night. Not one of my brightest moments. But hot as fuck. Almost worth the public slut shaming the day after in my complex. Almost!”

Yoongi realized then, that Jimin wasn’t even close enough to finish his shocking news dump, so he stilled his face to spare him the delight of seeing him astonished.

But he was.

“He showed up at my apartment the next day,  angry as hell as you may imagine… and Tae fought him, and my neighbours saw it, and therefore came to the police.” Jimin rushed another whisky shot, his face scrunching. “Speaking of witch, that was one of the worst moments of my life: I was utterly scared and ashamed. The emotional jet lag kicked in and I realized, that I was actually terrified of my ex. But it ended decently: I fucked with Tae again. Or more accurately, he fucked me over until making me forget everything before I had a panic atack or sorts. That’s day two’s recap. Oh, and I ran out of condoms at some point there, and Tae went bare. If that’s worth something…”

Yoongi felt his throat go dry and Jimin kept going for pure love towards shock value.

“And day three, we tried to talk it out. I tried to draw a line with Tae, because I do realize what a walking mess I am at the moment… but I was weak again, surprise! and ended up making love with him, or something really close to it, yesterday night.” Jimin laughed with his eyes glassy in a suspicious way that was in the middle between sad and joyful tears. “You were there, you saw how little he needed to do to just have me over him desperate for some tenderness.”

The way Jimin’s tone was changing wasn’t good. It was getting wet. His sight was turning erratic.

“And today, we slept in each other’s arms. We acted all lovey dovey, he drove me to work, and kissed me at the door and later sent me flowers, as if my coworkers don’t know that I just exited a bad relationship, and now wonder, what the fuck is going on? And no matter this date I went to visit him before coming here because I have no self control. And I’m losing my mind because all I think is Tae and that makes no sense because three days ago I was on survival mode, and done. And now I’m cracking my head like a teenager if he doesn’t reply to my messages on time. I have no fucking idea of what I’m doing, hyung. No fucking idea.”

“Right. First question.” Yoongi downed his second shot. Then held Jimin’s sight with purpose, keeping him there. There were a gigantic amount of red flags in all that was happening but better if he went chronologically to not lose count, and perspective. “What did Soowon do to you to earn that phone call? Was it revenge?”

“God, no. Or well, maybe a little. Tae picked up, it wasn’t on my plans. I was actually seconds away from coming… But the idea of wronging him did fire something on me in the first place. He… He slut shamed me a lot, and doubted me. And me, coming from my birthday debacle, I seriously doubted myself and the way I interacted with people. Was I too flirty? Was I to horny? Was I in a toxic relationship with Tae?... At the end I did all the things I dreaded, he was right.”

“Stop.” Yoongi halted his accelerated sputters with a commanding tone. “He sounds like a jerk. Don’t let a jerk define what your actions mean, Jimin.” Yoongi slashed, and Jimin looked astonished. “Do tell me, doing all the things he prevented you from doing felt good?”

Jimin blushed and gulped saliva before answering. His voice dropped an octave and his eyes strayed.

“Yeah. It did.”

“Then that works for you, and that’s enough. No need to play perfect Jimin by other persons’ standards if they don’t make you happy. Do things for yourself. Decide for your own happiness.”

Jimin stared at Yoongi in silent awe. Then later tried to reply, but his mouth went silent and closed. He finally spoke with a thread of a voice, and fear on it.

“But what if what makes me happy will make me very, very miserable in the near future?”

“Are we talking about Tae?”

“Yes.”

“I think that no one knows the future. But If you cut the only thing that’s bringing you joy at the moment, you are gonna start to be miserable now. There is no need to go that far. So what if you are a little too horny? Too flirty?” Yoongi scoffed. “What's so bad about it? Be the damn things! And whoever loves you like that, those are worthy, not the other way around. Stop trying to earn love, Jimin. It doesn’t work like that.”

A silence raised after his last sentence. Jimin, whose eyes had been glassy for the last minutes, finally bursted as hot streams runned down his face, and he inhaled and scrunched himself as a person that received a blow. His fingers scraping his knees as his hair covered his face turned downward.

Yoongi brushed his fingers, and Jimin took them as his breath collapsed and more tears fell.

“But what if I no longer see what’s so great about me?” His voice cracked.

And Yoongi crossed over the little table between them to hold him, the hurt of his friend drumming also in his skin and voice, permeating him.

“Then you ask the people that love you.”

***

Tae frowned at the served table before him, with flowers and candles. There was also red wine and glasses, a warm meal in process, and a vinyl record spinning. Yet he looked or minded any of this. Miles away, he only listened to Jimin's audio, with his phone against his ear, and the other elbow resting over his splayed legs, in a defeated, boneless, posture.

Jimin sounded cracked. Battered.

“I won’t make it tonight. I’m too tired. Yoongi drove me home. I needed a night alone, in my space. Sorry, this isn’t about you. Just, the last few days catched up with me.”

Whatever Jimin said aside, Tae felt as if he was every reason. Otherwise, why would Jimin keep him apart?

He knew solitude. He knew silence. They were natural to him.

But not to Jimin.

He was the kind of kid that when cutting a finger raised his eyes to meet someone before starting crying.

Please don’t regret everything. Please don’t.

Please don’t drive me away, again.

Tae left out a long sight, stretching his legs, while he spinned his phone in his hand.  He raised and paced his room in long strides, bending over the device. He typed, then erased the words, cursed, and sent an audio.

“Okay. Is there anything I can do for you?”

An exchange of audios started.

“No. It’s fine. I’m going to sleep early.”

“Can I pick you up tomorrow?”

“There is no need. I can take an uber.”

“I…”

Tae ditched that audio, and tried again.

“Me and everybody would be more calm if I can assure you commute well.”

He almost erased that one too, grimacing at the second I , but sended it anyway. Jimin wrote back, which all considering, probably meant he was getting pissed.

I'm not a little kid, Tae.

We know you aren't. But you getting lost isn't the issue

He was getting worked up. He inhaled, and exhaled, as he grabbed his hair.

Jimin called.

“I will ask Hobi, if that eases your mind. We will go to the same place after all.”

His tone was plain, dead like.

“Did I make something wrong?”

It slipped. In high peach. Against his better judgment, it slipped, because he could see an abyss growing between them two. A dark and shapeless emptiness. And at his side, in the middle of his table, was the spireas bouquet. His perfume became nauseous by the second. The whole scene made his head spin.

“What? No. Tae, no. I just…”

It took him a damn good while to verbalize a coherent sentence.

“I'm not good company right now.”

“Still, I'd rather be with you.”

Jimin clutched and it sounded wet.

“I can't use you like a crutch every time, honey.”

“But as long as you need me, isn't that fine?”

“No, it's not… I can't get used to you.”

Their voices began to turn harder and harder. Also louder.

“Stop talking as if I will disappear on you. I won't. Not on my own accord at least… Do you want me to?”

“No! Jesus Christ… I don't. But I also don't want you sick of me.”

“The only thing that drives me sick is when out of nowhere you push me away. Why Jimin?”

“Not everything is about you!”

A door slamming echoed through the phone.

“Jimin?”

“I'm going to yours. Happy?.”

“Are you walking here?”

His breathing was laboured. And street noises began to come in the speaker.

“Yes. I'm walking. And livestreaming so you chill the fuck out that there are no psychopaths on the way. Only drunkards, late shoppers, and a stupid twink getting his stupid daily walk, for his stupid mental health. That's me, by the way. Going all the way around because his friend renders him useless enough to be alone.”

“That's not it.”

Tae also left his apartment. To the street, looking around. He didn't dress up for the cold.

The chilling night air crisped him more.

“It is what it is. And you are a control freak. This is the conversation you wanted to have? Because I could have been in my bed all this time, and you, getting laid elsewhere as Friday's request.”

“Stop talking shit.”

“I warned you that I wasn't in the mood for company. But you took it personally. Guess what, now it is personal.”

“So do tell me, what have I done to piss you so much?”

“You are a menace! A huge, huge distraction, and mess. How I'm supposed to reflect and improve myself if I fall into you every time I'm weak. Why do you accept me like this? It's not right. It's fucked up.”

“So what, am I supposed to turn around? What a friend.”

“Oh honey, you are the worst being my friend... Don't dare put a finger on me now, or I swear, I will bite you.”

It was freezing outside but Tae’s blood was boiling.

“Come with a better threat, love.”

“I hate you. Don't call me that.”

“Actually, don't call me any ridiculous pet name. I'm not your boyfriend or sorts.”

“You only wish.”

“Nothing further from true. You are a mistake. This is all a huge mistake. And tomorrow morning I will look at you and regret it all.”

“Not if I can avoid it tonight.”

“You are so full of yourself. I hate you. I hate the likes of you. I hate how you don't give a fuck for anything.”

“You don't mean a word of it. Where are you now?”

“Here.”

Tae turned around lowering the phone, and saw a figure coming from the opposite lane. Still quite far away. Both dropped their phones, and stared. A trail of white followed Jimin, his condensated fast respiration. He was power walking, as a man on a mission.

Up close, Tae noticed the red eyes and furious expression.

He didn't have much time to assess him, because Jimin throwed his hands at him, and kissed him fiercely.

Tae grabbed him by the neck, cold hands meeting feverish skin, and Jimin hissed.

Then Tae kissed him harder, and Jimin bit his lower lip making him hurt and wail.

“Told you.” His tone was sharp. “Damn, you are freezing,” he wrapped himself around Tae, whose hands also roamed over Jimin.

“Your face is ice cold too.”

They stumbled towards the flat in a not so short incursion through the elevator. Then, inside the safety of Tae's four walls, Jimin said as his clothes fell of him; all while he drove Tae's face against his neck and clavicle:

“I knew I shouldn't have come. I knew we were gonna end like this.”

“And what's so bad about it?” Tae said, running his palms over Jimin’s waist and stomach, removing clothes. His torso was already bare, chest raising up and down in an agitated state. All his skin that had been covered during the walk was feverishly hot. A huge contrast with Tae's cold hands. He needed them warm before moving beyond, so he moved them towards the fabric of Jimin’s pants. There he grabbed his tights, and rubbed while pushing them apart.

Jimin offered no resistance, all the contrary, tried to guide him moving his hips.

“It's bad… that you don't let me think. I lose control and do stupid things.”

Tae laughed when Jimin bucked his hips against an open hand.

“I don’t agree. You know perfectly what you do every time you come to me like this.”

Tae pushed him against a wall, cutting his movements.

Jimin yelped, surprised.

“You gave control away,” Tae advanced against him then, descending like a bird of prey, grabbing Jimin’s head and pinning him waist downwards with his own hip and legs. “You gave control and expect gratification in return. Don't you?”

Jimin opened his eyes wide. He was shocked, mute, but after some seconds nodded, gulping saliva.

“It's only fair. You wanna be out of your mind, I can give you that.”

Tae let his face come closer, their noses touch.

“The least I can do is give you that.”

“I got you.”

He used his silkiest voice, as he draped Jimin in ghost touches, slowly giving space, retrieving.

And Jimin followed him, chased him, whining, not wanting to lose the warmth, their skin to skin.

All his fire had turned into a desperate prayer. Tae was familiar with this state.

“You trust me?”

He knew what to do.

Tae separated himself from Jimin (a pained whine coming from the last), but offered one hand. Jimin, confused, took it, and Tae guided him towards his corridor, Jimin following him like in a trance. Then when he reached the full body mirror by his room's door, he rested the other's hand there, spraying his fingers over the surface.

Jimin stared at their reflection stunned, his pale body upfront, shining like a painting.

Then Tae molded his posture. Both hands on the surface. Pants down. Head tilted, for access to kisses. Tae grabbed him from behind, layers of cloth brushing sensible skin.

“I know what you like. It's all about you. And that's okay.”

Jimin moaned.

And moaned louder when Tae bit his neck, his shoulder, and the joint of those, as one hand covered his mouth, the haunting sound barely muffled by flesh. The other hand from Tae pinched one of his nipples, making him squirm.

“You like marks. You like being used and owned.”

“You love being worshipped.”

The bundle of complicated emotions in Jimin's face quickly untangled, leaving behind only pure want. The stiffness on his movements eased as his body molded towards the other one covering him, and his mouth appeared open when Tae eased his hand over it.

Immediately Jimin was licking the hand, its fingers, as his eyes met with Tae over the mirror.

“On your toes,” demanded Tae.

And he moved the hand on his chest towards his hip and pushed his briefs down. Jimin finished the work with his feet, which later remained tall to increase the friction against his ass.

Tae was routing against it, with his pants still on, the roughness of the fabric against the soft cheeks. One hand keeping Jimin stable, on his hip, the other busy on his mouth, being sucked.

Tae also moaned as Jimin's tongue curled against his fingers, and he pushed their bodies closer.

Bit his ear.

Jimin cried and shook as his erection jolted, the first pearl drops appearing.

And Tae's right hand was finally ready to take it.

He wasted no time, grabbing the flesh, circling the tip with his thumb and pointed finger, and then pushed the foreskin down, together with his whole hand, that started working up and down.

Jimin let his weight rest on his arms, over the mirror, losing his footing. He became loud. Louder than he already was.

Tae adjusted himself, now kissing his back and nape.

Hands steady at Jimin's crutch and neck. Jerking him off. Mouthing his neck.

His own erection pressed desperately against Jimin's ass, with the annoying layers of clothes in between that would get ruined.

“Fuck me,” Jimin begged.

In a more maddening than sobering second where Jimin stopped looking at himself to turn his torso towards Tae and demand a kiss.

Tae kissed him, but also rejected him.

“No.”

“What?”

Alarm flashed through Jimin’s face, but Tae didn’t give him time to reply. He devoured Jimin's mouth as he quickened His handwork. Jimin gasped against his mouth in response, losing the trail of everything.

He almost fell towards the mirror, trying to rest his forehead against it. But Tae catched him, and used his own body as the steady surface instead. Jimin's head rested on his shoulder now, a column of throat on display in the glass.

He stayed on his tiptoes, desperate for friction, wiggling his hip as Tae struggled to hold him, finish him, with all the precarious equilibrium, and hands and nails grabbed at his hair in an awkward angle.

But he finished him. Rocking harder. Brushing their bodies together.

Slipping obscenities. A love . He begged for Jimin to come undone; all in a raspy, desperate voice. Begging between moans and asphyxiated sounds.

Until the blond cried out loud, and Tae’s hand was painted white.

Tae had a minute or so to watch Jimin come back to his senses. He tried to ease his respiration, as Jimin searched blindly for his warmth, curled shameless against him, face frozen in extasis.

Tae nuzzled him with tenderness, tortured by the sight.

His crutch was a white pain, but he managed to guide Jimin towards his bed once his eyes were half focused again. And did try to let him there, well roped, as he held his breath, to calm his body.

All of Jimin’s fiery energy had dissipated, dozing off. Yet he noticed.

“Where you going?”

Tae stayed tall beside Jimin, now sprayed at the sheets, but buried one knee on the mattress at that moment to kiss his forehead.

“Sleep love. We can talk tomorrow.”

“Don't be stupid,” Jimin pulled him. “Or I will be mad again.”

Tae caressed Jimin's face, whose eyes were barely open.

And in seconds, they shut down.

When Jimin’s grip eased, Tae got up. Sighed and ran a hand through his face.

He was a fool. A royal fool.

Chapter Text

Jimin woke up around midnight, only to find himself alone in Tae's bed. He was covered in blankets, but still naked.

Grabbing a simple t-shirt, he walked the flat to find a sleeping Tae by his sofa in the living room.

Sitted, arms closed and even a pout on his mouth.

There were no longer candles or glasses. But the flowers were still there, and a trace of Tae's perfume still lingered.

Not his everyday perfume, a richer one, that he felt for the first time when he jumped him at the buildings’ doors.

Jimin sighed. He did a show of himself, like usual. No wonder Tae was mad. 

With the lights still off, he shook Tae's shoulder, and when he reacted, gently he guided him towards the bed.

The sleepy Tae hugged him, and he took advantage, returning the hug under the covers.

***

“Sorry for canceling out of the blue yesterday.”

“That's fine. Was not the issue.”

“Mh.”

The room was hot, pitch black. They were still there, under the covers. An arm away, and no one brave enough to cross it. An eerie stillness enveloping everything.

“What was that sofa tantrum then?”

“I fell asleep.”

“Tae.”

“Why didn't you fuck me?”

“You were about to come. Didn't want to torture you.”

“Aha. Sounds so like you.”

That made him cough, almost a laugh.

“All right. Midway I realized, that it was a douche move from me, resolving an issue with sex. I'm not a kid, I know it doesn't go away like that yet… I acted like one, like I used to.”

Jimin gulped saliva. His face burned. Darkness was his ally here.

“You are not the only one.”

Jimin heard Tae move, an arm dropping closer. Heat radiating from him, blessing his skin, but not touching yet.

“I was angry at myself because… Yeah, I'm maybe excellent at distracting you. But shit in talking your problems out. Our problems. You were right. It was a previsible end, you coming here. And you had the right to be alone if you wanted to.”

His response surprised Jimin. Deeply. He wasn't expecting validation.

He brushed Tae's arm.

“For what is worth. You did calm me. I slept like a baby.”

Tae did chuckle this time.

“I'm kinda jealous of Yoongi.”

Another huge surprise. Jimin's chest was full of curious feelings.

“For making me cry? He is a nosy know it all.”

“He gets to make you talk. You are a hard one to make slip.”

“Hmm. And where does that leave you, Mr. Stoneface?”

“Please, I'm short of disabled in that field.”

“You are such an idiot,” Jimin hitted him with a pillow, and when Tae raised his upper body, offended, Jimin grabbed him from the shirt he still had on from yesterday, and pulled towards him, looking for his mouth.

“Take that thing off, it stinks.”

Jimin felt guilty about the previous night, so he went all the way to try and compensate Tae.

Judging by his docility, how vocal Tae turned, and the way he let Jimin take control, it worked wonderfully.

***

Round two of talking had them arm against arm, damp and shiny in the morning light.

“Did you ever thought, that the chemistry we have sometimes… conspired? against our communication?”

“Oh yeah. Definitely. You are very distracting, darling.”

“You are one to talk,” Jimin hitted Tae.

They were both back against the mattress, naked, looking up. Hands eventually raised to make gestures or tease each other. No sheets or modesty in between.

“The way I want to bite you every time you are at reach, plus my own incapacity to say things don’t go well together, sometimes,” continued Tae.

“Sometimes.”

“More often is the best thing about us.”

“Are you saying that the best part of our long relationship is the sex? Am I just a booty for you?”

His tone was fully incriminating.

“No. That’s just an example of how stupid I’m with these things.”

Jimin cackled. “You are.”

“What I meant, is that since I was so bad with this, and you are better, but also, quite moody and changing, we both had long invested in reading each other. So, often words aren’t necessary. You get me like no one.”

Tae looked at Jimin with open eyes. They were full of devotion, love, and intent. But still, the sensation they awakened in Jimin got lost in the heat under his checks, and the thumps of his heart.

He was dizzy, uncertain.

“You are a mystery to me most of the time. I never know what to think about the things you do. But I do know you, so I criss cross options that can’t be, and work with the ones that may be.”

“That sounds complicated.”

“You are complicated.”

“I am. We should talk more. Ask the hard questions.”

“It’s funny how you always get chattier after sex. This used to be the only time I could reach you.”

“I’m serious.”

Jimin stilled, feeling cold creep through his nape.

“What made you so upset yesterday?”

Jimin sighed. His first reaction was tossing the theme aside. But Tae was right.

“Just Yoongi hitting a nerve. I… he signaled my bad habit of begging for love. I’ve looked for it in all the wrong places lately, only to be left even more exposed and empty. I felt dumb in retrospect. Pathetic.”

“There are plenty of people that love you, Jimin.”

“I know. I know. That's what everybody says. And I’m stupid enough not to get it. But I… it doesn't come natural to me, to look at myself gently. How can I expect others to do what even I can't?”

Jimin struggled with the words. His breath rushed and his sight blurred with tears. But he bit his lip and Tae grabbed his hand with strength, fingers interlacing, and Jimin returned the hold with double strength. Tae’s thumb crossed over his fingers in one direction then the other.

“And that's where you get in the story. He recommended that I talk with you. Because I'm relying on you a lot, as to say. And it would be helpful to hear how you see me, he thought. Through all my lowest moments, comparing perspectives. Why is that you are  always there? But I couldn't make myself ask you. And I knew that the topic wouldn't come per se, and I got frustrated.”

***

“It's a cruel exercise, don't you think? Listing all your shortcomings, only for others to give you his opinion on them. Am I wrong…? ”

Jimin mocked the infamous audio, while Tae remained steady on his first words.

It was a cruel exercise , one could only wonder about Yoongi's intentions, Tae thought.

Who was he lying to? It was probably a desperate attempt to make them face each other. He shouldn’t fret about it.

“If therapist Yoongi recommends it, who am I to question him?” Tae interrupted Jimin's yapping.

Which made him frown.

“Fuck of.”

“What moments were you thinking of?”

There was a quick exchange of glances and it got decided, against Jimin's will: this is what they were doing.

“With you? Oh God, an easy example…” Jimin went full theatrical, pushing his discomfort. “what did you think when I came one day and said,” Jimin raised his voice one octave, trying to sound more childish. Tae laughed all along. “It has been a wonderful three years. But let's cut them, it's getting complicated now.”

“Oh, I wish that's how it went. Try adding a panic attack. And an audition the next day.” Tae joked. He remembered well.

Jimin didn’t laugh.

“It was three days away,” he corrected him. Dead serious.

“It was as bad as one day away, the same... You were stressed out of your mind, with school and your trial. And I wasn't helping. I was indeed a big part of the problem. I am as responsible as you in our break up, or even more. You asked for compromise, and I let you go instead.”

His last words weighed heavy on both of them, who stared stubbornly towards the ceiling.

“You did  what you had to do. We both did. Your family needed you in Daegu,” Jimin carrasped.

“But it could have been different, had I given us an opportunity, but you scared me so much.”

Tae remembered, the choked gasps for breath, Jimin yelling, deaf to whatever he said. Arms nesting his head.

You chose to leave me!

He got goosebumps.

“You were on your limit, and I genuinely thought it was for the best, stepping away. Not draining you further.”

Jimin searched the ceiling with his mouth pressed.

“I wish you had told me about your parents there.”

“Yeah. I also wish I did…”

“If only…” Jimin shutted his eyes, and Tae would never know what he refrained himself from saying, but it seemed painful seeing him grimace. “Much water crossed under that bridge… I used to hate you for it, remember? What do you think about that? Did you enjoy my cold treatment? Another of my finest moments…”

Those were mildly fun times. Tae was too happy and grateful for meeting Jimin again to actually complain.

“Oh, I totally deserved it, remember? I left you when you needed me the most. That was still the truth.”

“At least we agree on that. Still, I was a bitch for too long.”

“I never minded. I assumed that if you cared enough to be mad at me, the important thing was that you still cared. Indifference would have been worse. And you did forgive me, and that speaks very well of you.”

“Only after knowing all your side of the story, that I never minded to get.”

“Because I didn’t want to share it then. We agreed on me being a stupid.”

“You were… I don’t know if it's more relaxing or infuriating seeing how little you care for the things that tormented me the most. You have no spine at all.”

“Try saying that to your ex. I’m sure he doesn’t agree.”

Jimin raised from the bed, restless.

Tae followed him halfway, sitting in the bed: his eyes doing most of the job, capturing every uncomfortable twitch of Jimin’s body as he picked random clothes from Tae’s wardrobe and swiftly dressed.

“That was plain bad.”

“It was. That was one of my lowest moments too. But Jimin, I wouldn’t change a thing, because now we are here. And I’m grateful for this.”

Jimin froze and Tae used the moment to reach him, head resting on his shoulder.

“And I will have to make peace with putting you at risk, because it was part of the deal. It doesn’t need to be perfect. And I might also need to reassure you, if backfiring made you think poorly of yourself.”

Bingo. Jimin straightened, taking a long inhalation.

“I got off on making him suffer. What does that make me?”

“What does it make me ? Don’t use a double standard, babe. You showed a spine. Don’t you hate when people have no backbone?

Jimin scorned, against his will.

“I do.”

He turned towards Tae, who raised his hands towards Jimin’s arms, warming them, with slow circular movements.

“What about Ji-eun? What about my birthday?”

Tae freezed.

A minefield.

Jimin rested his weight over one leg. The rest of his body, hanging lax. Eyes fixed on Tae, who heaved.

That. That was probably their lowest point. For both of them. And it was still a fresh bound.

Tae sighed. Fingers closing over the fabric of Jimin’s shirt.

“I deserve most of the blame for that night. You were vulnerable, drunk and heartbroken. I should have said no. The times it was necessary, still no. But I was weak, and that’s not on you. It was my call.”

It was his call, and to further damage, he took months to clean his shit, decide, acknowledge what it meant.

All while leaving Jimin alone in his guilt.

“I was suffering because of a cheater and went and inflicted the same pain on a totally innocent person, someone I even liked, and you loved. I should have known better. I perfectly knew how bad it felt.”

Now Jimin was heaving.

Tae saw everything blurred, but it went away a couple of blinks later. He cleared his voice, uncomfortable.

He couldn’t have double standards either:

If he released Jimin of that mistake, he should be able to let that giant rock off his shoulders as well.

“Some things don’t have an excuse.” He searched for Jimin’s eyes. A hand brushing his hair. For once, Jimin looked more stable than him, so he mimicked his strength. “It’s plain bad. But it’s part of what brought us here. So I own it too. And I apologize now, for disrespecting you. And for all the hurt that it brought. And for not pushing when we needed to talk… I should have apologized way sooner.”

“I’m sorry for ending your relationship with Ji-eun. She was a nice girl.”

Jimin pressed his head against his palm.

“It was gonna happen either way.”

“And sorry… for risking our friendship. And not only that.  I didn’t give you the space to talk until now. It took me a while.”

“Pardon granted. But never dare to let me aside like that again. You dodged me for months.”

“Of all the things, that’s still what bothers you the most?”

“I never want to lose you again. And that, that felt too close.”

Jimin hugged him, and when he rested his head on his chest, Tae realized that his heart was running wild. He embraced Jimin and breathed his scent, nose on his crown, to slowly calm himself.

After a while Jimin smacked a kiss on his left cheek, and of course, smacked him on the ass to make it all even more trivial, but his afflicted voice betrayed him.

He was on edge.

“Enough talk for today. Dress up and let's go out, neither of us had dinner last night. I’m starving.”

***

They were back with donuts and milkshakes more than an hour later, but still, quite early for a Saturday (not twelve yet), when Jimin’s phone rang.

“Jiminshi!”

A loud, thick Busan accent yelled.

“Kookie, what's wrong with you? It's Saturday morning. Why are you awake?”

“Tonight's your night, Jiminshi. I was thinking.” Oh no. That couldn’t be good. “We should meet. Drink a little beforehand. Get sure you are dressed as a slut. Are you in your home?”

Jimin looked panicked at Tae. At the volume Jungkook was speaking, he had clearly heard it all. 

Tae grabbed the phone, and pushed the speaker, to Jimin's astonishment.

“Hey Kookie. What's up?”

“Tae! You are alive! Stop ignoring my messages! Where are you?”

“Home. Jimin stayed last night.”

“Oh, cool. Do you wanna come to mine tonight, Chimmy?”

Only by the natural way that Tae said that, and Jungkook responded, Jimin remembered that crashing each other's flats wasn't odd at all between the group.

It didn't need to be suspicious.

“I don't know. Are you driving tonight? Staying sober?”

“Not a chance.”

“Then my flat is closer to Itaewon.”

“You are right. Well, I will drop by later with a bag. I'm staying with you. Unless you pick someone in the club, of course. Or I do.”

He could perfectly picture Jungkook wiggling his eyebrows. He was so stupid. He loved him.

“Dream that I would let your drunk ass in my realm. No thank you.”

He always said that, and then, freckled as his mother and tended the younger during all night when he ended up wasted.

“Then you better pick up someone. I can be around yours at sixteen, that works for you? Prepare your best clothes. I want options, or I will improvise. Tae, you joining us?”

“Okay, sixteen is good,” said Jimin.

“Will see. Probably I will go straight to the bar. I have to catch up with some work,” said Tae.

“As you wish casanova. But dress sharp!”

Kookie hanged.

Jimin turned violently to Tae and asked.

“Do you think he knows?”

“I don’t think so.”

“The guys can’t know.”

“Namjoon already knows. And Yoongi, therefore, Hobi…”

“That’s fine, but Jungkook and Jin…” His voice tightened.

“You are right. They can’t know or we wouldn’t have a second of peace.”

Tae offered the shadow of a smile, but the idea was indeed chilling. He drove a hand to Jimin’s neck and caressed his cheek with a thumb. Jimin softened against his touch.

“They would tease us endlessly, I want no jokes. Nor questions, at this point.”

“All right.”

It was logical. It was fine. Tae fully supported Jimin’s request. But he couldn’t avoid feeling a tad disappointed. He had been really happy about Yoongi knowing. Even, pushing them together, judging by his actions the other day.

“Just for your knowledge: I wouldn’t really mind them knowing. But it is your call. Your night.”

Tae tried to maintain a straight face, calm voice, as if his brain wasn’t opening all the risk protocol drawers.

“Thank you.”

Jimin’s response was also plain, small. It almost felt cold, but he entered the circle of his arms at the same time, and Tae kissed his hair and hugged him as the machinery of Jimin’s thoughts spinned.

I’m here for you, he tried to convey.

“We can’t act like this in front of them,” Jimin mumbled, with his face buried in Tae’s neck.

“Mmh. A pity,” Tae said, the pain not feigned at all, as he hugged him tighter. “But we have a couple of hours until sixteen. Right?”

And he searched for his eyes, and went for a kiss.

***

They were doing a terrible work of pretending, messaging when barely apart.

What are you wearing? Jimin asked.

Tae was still deciding, so he sent a pic, with his torso bare and some skinny jeans. It was a worthy thirst trap, between his classiest, and Tae was a good connoisseur of art...

Unsure. May go with my lucky pants

No. You can’t wear those ones. I’m supposed to ignore you

As if you can. What are you wearing?

I’ve no idea. Jungkook is improvising. He has scissors, glue and stones

A picture of the younger man bending over Jimin’s table with a red mess in front of him appeared.

I’m scared

Amazing. Sounds like I will have a good excuse to look at you

You never had and still looked

True, can’t help it, you are beautiful, always

Jimin halted his breath, while Tae sighed, both letting his phones go dark.

This would be a hard night.

***

“Ladies and gentlemen, or bastards and gentlemen, my beloved folk, I’ve the pleasure of introducing you, to the main event, the one and only, our most coveted bachelor, Paaaark, Jimin!” said Jungkook hours later, giving a step to the side to uncover the boy squeezed against his back, to a whistling table of drunkards on a crowded bar, with also music and a dancing floor in the middle.

The air was already thick from the vitiated environment, with the music loud and all the yelling on top of it. There was alcohol spilled, its aroma and gooey feeling over the table and soles. Colored lights dancing around. 

Yet nothing of that made Tae’s ground spin as hard as the sudden view of red.

“Oh my god,” Yoongi cursed, “what have you done?” While Hobi laughed out of his chair, to his boyfriend's arms.

Namjoon said “sexy saxophone noises” and made the mandatory hand gestures, as the weirdo he was.

Jin downed his heart shaped glasses to the tip of his nose and with a calculating face and aristocratic airs said “Isn't that a Taylor swift song?”

“I see, a man of culture,” Jungkook high fived Jin.

Tae instead almost spilled his drink, choking. He squirmed on his chair, not believing his eyes. 

Jimin was covered in glitter, dark eyeliner and gloss, looking a hundred times more feminine than he already was because of the dark contrast of Kookie at his side, on his usual monochrome block, framing at him with open arms like Will Smith (pointing to his wife in the red carpet).

But all the red was currently in Jimin's face and torso, where a burgundy red shirt was cropped with kitchen scissors and a lighter.

There were letters too, written with aerosol paint, and then remarked with big shiny stones, clearly glued by inexpert hands. They prayed: Out of the Slammer .

“He did this from scratch. The mess on my kitchen table is proof. I never owned something like this,” Jimin excused himself, greening like crazy at the chaos.

“I saw this on Pinterest!” Recognized Hobi.

“He will catch a cold. Someone give him actual clothes!” Demanded Yoongi.

“It's somehow endearing to see how your style doesn't evolve, Kookie. Jimin, you look like a brokenhearted teenager fever dream. That's not a compliment,” said Namjoon.

“You wished you could pull up this look,” said Jimin, suddenly motivated, and sitting with air, flashy closing legs on stupidly tight dark pants in the middle of the dinner table. More skin appeared between the dark fabric: the pants had also been attacked by savage scissors, leaving many windows that ripped now releasing flesh.

It was a stroke of luck that Jimin sat far away from Tae and his treacherous hands, because they were itching to touch.

“Jiminah, you look good!” Celebrated Jin hitting the table.

Jimin thanked, blushed, turning his head to the side in a delicate movement.

And Namjoon elbowed Tae, who yelled “a round!” Because he was supposed to say something someday. Not just look in awe like a total weirdo.

Everybody cheered at the idea.

Jimin barely looked at him while agreeing.

Later, Tae absolutely stared at Jimin's crop rising over his ribs when the drinks came and everybody stretched to clash their drinks over the table.

There were plenty of love marks on display, but no one said a thing.

***

The night and the drinks rolled on and on. The music was pure hit after hit.

The conversation was chaotic, as it usually was when the entire group managed to reunite. That was good because Jimin was nervous as fuck, babbling nonsense, certainly being stupid and noisy, while Tae wasn’t speaking at all. Which luckily wasn’t entirely odd coming from him.

He didn’t want to look suspicious. None of them.

It was fun. He was having a great time. It had been long since Jimin experienced the mayhem of the entire gang. Jin and Jungkook were competing on being ridiculous. Yoongi and Hobi were paying fines every time they did something coupley, and Namjoon was drinking away the frustration of failing his last driving test. Again.

“You have done everything well, he said. You will certainly approve next time. But I can’t give you the license today because you forgot to put on your seat belt,” he almost cried.

“No!”

“Come on!”

“How can someone so intelligent as you, be so fucking dumb?”

It was all screams and blasphemies, and Tae’s quiet , and half smiles, then heavy eyes whenever they crossed sight.

Or whenever Jimin felt a heated pressure boring through his flesh only to find Tae looking at him again.

He was also lucky that the alcohol excused his flushed cheeks.

And that the place was a mess.

He wanted to yell at Tae every time. And then stand and sit on his lap. Cuddle against him. There was a bare, live ware between them, and it was pulsating. A muscle memory of the last days, their new normality, that was being completely avoided now.

Even his most pure and friendly actitudes. Everything was too tangled.

“How many months have you been dating already?” the couple had to answer. Hobi yapped the details, as Yoongi stared into the horizon exposed.

Tae was gorgeous. The fucker. He didn’t wear skinny pants, came instead with a classic look. Shirt, beige slacks, fluffy sex hair and regal stand. Jimin had to watch his posture to keep Tae on his peripheric glance.

He would do something stupid if he contemplated him long enough.

He was the king of stupid, after all.

And the fluffy mess of Tae’s curls called for his grip.

“I think that blond is looking at you,” Jin said to Kookie. “No! Not so obvious! Don’t you…”

“Jimin, we should hit the dance floor. You are only my plan b after all, and I would rather keep it that way.”

The table had been gentle. Jungkook had been even tactful (for him) while addressing the topic in his house, while preparing themselves: only through jokes, and with a glint of worry behind his bambi eyes. No one was making uncomfortable questions about his last relationship but almost everybody was subtly encouraging that Jimin had some fun tonight. For a change.

The bachelor.

Everybody but one.

“Anyone want more? I’m going for a refill.”

***

Tae offered himself to fetch more drinks to have a moment to himself. No one argued at the table. No wonder, he was a ghost.

He was failing at being discreet, so his second best was suppressing everything. He knew he was bad. He knew. Jimin also knew.

He was really trying but…

They crossed eyes a couple of times and each time it was as if anything else was obliterated. All the noise gone, the others gone. All but Jimin and his bedazzled joy. His lovely pure smile.

He ordered, then rested his elbows at the bar, waiting. He needed time to order his mind, and decide which strategy he could apply with Jimin that night. How to be less suspicious in front of the group. He needed to bring a conversation, whatever topic.

The sex appeal of red suits, maybe.

No, terrible topic.

And then Jimin appeared at his side, also standing at the bar, a flash of bare flesh and red. 

The world stilled around him. His back in a beautiful arc as half his weight dropped over the counter.

“You are boring a hole in my shirt.”

Jimin mocked Tae’s poker face, with a piercing gaze, and Tae cackled silently. He picked at Jimin’s torso.

Left the hand there, stretching the fabric.

“I don't need to, look, it already has one. Many.”

Jimin’s warm skin blossomed between the bloody color and cuts. Inviting. Provocative. 

Jimin turned towards him, hip against the bar, and Tae did so as well. Both ending a little closer than necessary. Jimin even raised a hand to stop Tae, grabbing his pocking hand.

“I’m sorry. I should…”

Tae tried to retrieve his hand but Jimin held it tight.

The ground faltered, his stomach dropping, although Tae never moved nor wasn’t that drunk. He fell closer to Jimin. His fingers latched again at the ripped fabric, meeting skin this time, as his eyes roamed the area, finding his marks.

“Artistic holes. Kookie’s doing. If you look at his shirt it also has them.”

In the midst of the bar, Tae was still able to recognize Jimin’s fragrance. Fresh and sweet, a fruity shampoo. Tae inhaled. Looked at Jimin right in the eye and dropped, voice heavy:

“I couldn't care less for what he's wearing. I couldn't watch any other.”

Jimin laughed, loud and sensual, his eyes darting in all directions.

“I know. You look sexy too.”

God. Tae freezed. Jimin wasn’t even looking at his face. He was inspecting Tae’s outfit with his hands, and attentive eyes upon them. His touch burned. A warm line over his forearms and pecs.

Tae was burning.

“Honey, if I don’t back off now, I don’t think I will be able to later.”

“It’s okay. I can handle it,” babbled Jimin without looking at him.

What the hell did that mean?

Tae scorned. His first deep and loud laugh of the night. Jimin drank of its sound with pleasure. Then found with surprise a big hand landing over his hair, tilting his face upwards. Tae was looking for another stop, a limit, through the empiric way, advancing, because Jimin looked too inviting to his own good and words.

But all that Jimin did was bend, following his touch.

“You aren’t that young to be this reckless, teenage dream.” Tae mocked him. Jimin chuckled, adorable, and Tae gasped, losing his grip.

“Shut up grandpa. You and your slacks…”

Jimin’s hands latched at Tae’s waist. He gulped saliva. But kept his practical tone.

“But you like them.”

“I do. I like how they hide nothing when you are hard.”

“Come on.”

And how they stain when you go on your knees. So delicate until you are not.”

“Jimin.”

That was Tae’s last straw. It took monumental control from Tae to not kiss Jimin right there, press him against the stall, in the middle of the bar, with all their friends some meters away.

Even Jimin looked surprised that he didn't.

Maybe even a little disappointed.

Tae clutched his stomach with a slow and profound exhale. He took a step back. Let his hand fall.

“What do you want, Jimin?”

They stared at each other, with a piercing intensity. Jimin moved his hands to the bar where he drummed his fingers, then flicked his head, then smiled, biting his lower lip, all in quick succession.

“I think that being apart isn’t working. But maybe being subtle could be easier.”

“Okay. Subtle like…?” Tae slowly assimilated.

“Also. I want you on your knees for me.”

And there his brain crashed.

Had Tae one shot more in his system, he would have landed to his knees right there, to Jimin's dangerous smile.

That slowly disappeared, to looking, demanding eyes, and an open mouth.

“Begging to suck me off.”

“Fuck off,” said Tae, completely turning to the bar, taking a deep breath.

Jimin cackled out of the blue, utterly pleased, and then left chanting:

“They do sell you off, those slacks.”

Jimin returned to the table, and exchanged his getting-drinks duty with Jin.

When he reached Tae, as the man of few and cryptic words that Jin was, he tapped Tae on the shoulder and just said.

“You know, thinking about ranking at LoL sometimes helps me in hard times,” he winked and proceeded to make jokes to the barman to speed up their orders with his pretty privilege.

***

When Tae returned to the table, triumphant with his hands full of booze, he stole Jin’s place besides Jimin, and slipped an arm over his shoulders.

The most natural thing. No one even blinked. Jimin didn't move or flinch, so he doubled the stakes. Jimin wasn’t the only one capable of making things hard for the other.

At the table, the conversation was currently dominated by Jungkook who was narrating the perks and failures of his last conquest. A loud aberrant Tinder thing, distracting.

So he bent towards Jimin and whispered to his ear, touching skin with his lips.

That catched Yoongi's attention, across the table, but Jimin acted as if he had just told him about the weather, or some kitchen gossip, and kept his eyes on Jungkook.

“I should spank you for what you did to me. Did you have fun?”

The corner of Jimin's mouth raised. But that was all.

“I hope so, because I will take revenge for it later.”

Still nothing.

“But not today. Tonight you wanted something different. You wanted me begging? I will beg.”

That made him turn, briefly, with bewildered eyes, towards him. Now Tae smiled. He moved his hand from Jimin's shoulders to his neck, grabbing it from behind, making Jimin look at him.

“Please.”

Yoongi, who had been curious until that moment, averted his eyes stubbornly in Jin’s direction, who was teasing Jungkook.

Jin, who was beside Tae, was actually very close.

Tae didn't care, he spoke again softly, with a husky voice meant only for Jimin.

“Please, I need to suck you. I want to choke on you so bad.”

Was this a fair attempt at discretion?

Jin made a bad pun, and he laughed, and everybody laughed with him because he sounded horrible, like a windshield wiper.

Jimin joined the noise with a fake laugh, but his eyes betrayed him. He groped Tae under the table and muttered “behave”.

Tae straightened, releasing Jimin. But Jimin's hand stayed.

If he didn't participate much in the conversation until now, it didn't improve from that point on. Jimin kept his hand put, and every now and then he made a nasty movement, stroking, groping. Tracing a slow line up and down.

Meanwhile Tae tried to look attentive to the table. But he was just checking constantly for the best moments to whisper “please, please” to a distracted Jimin.

He was ready to risk it all, he couldn’t consider himself a rational person under such circumstances. He was an inch away from blowing their charade. End the silly games.

Jimin meanwhile was rushing his drink, playing it cool. And when he finished his own he took Tae's untouched one.

“I want you to come into my mouth,” he whispered to Jimin and he sputtered his drink to the entire table.

The rest yelled, grossed, getting wet. Jungkook took the worst part, sitting across from Jimin.

“You are a dead man, Tae.” Jimin choked.

And Tae laughed as if he had told the joke of the century and everybody followed him in short notice.

Red faced, Jimin removed his hand and crossed legs under the table.

“I need to clean my ears,” said Jin, shaking his hands, in a slip of mind, and went to the bathroom. Jungkook followed him. And then Namjoon also went.

Hobi discussed going to dance with Jimin. He pestered Yoongi to join them. Tae offered to guard the table until someone returned and then when he was alone he exhaled painfully.

He needed to get down his boner a little, in order to reach the bathroom in ten minutes.

Jimin had told him so.

He was crazy. Jimin always drove him crazy. Tae laughed alone.

He finished what was left of his drink and when Jin and Kookie returned he announced that he would look for more, without looking at the charged hands of his friends, full of glasses.

“The bar is in the other direction,” teased Jin. Tae didn't hear him.

When Tae reached the bathroom, Jimin was already there, also eager, way before the 10 minutes had passed. A quick glance, and nobody seemed to be around, so Tae set his eyes firmly on Jimin, who had freezed like a deer caught by a truck’s lights late on the road (with eyes wide open and catching his breath), and he advanced on a straight line towards him. Grabbing his head with both hands, Tae curled over him and kissed him deeply on the mouth.

Jimin trembled against him, gasping, surprised. And then his body melted against his; making full contact head to toes, hands grabbing at his waist, pulling, rooting, while his lips parted and tongue darted forward.

Quite fast Tae’s hand passed from the desperate hold of Jimin’s face, to a possessive grip of his bottom part, where Jimin’s leather trousers made an indecent sound only topped by the moan he gave out as one of the hands grabbing him went down one of his legs, only to grab it by the thigh and rose it around Taes’.

Who now was biting at Jimin’s neck mercilessly, pulling him against a wall.

“We are outside,” Jimin managed to say, staring with glassy eyes at the open door in front of him.

“Hmm?” managed to say Tae, raising his head a little. Their eyes were at a too close distance, awkward to actually hold gazes, so Jimin stared at Tae’s mouth. He seemed without words for a second, swallowing air, biting his lower lip. Then he remembered.

“The stall,” Jimin pointed with a small head turn.

And Tae walked them there with hands already getting under his pants.

“Carefull,” Jimin hissed when he downed his zipper, which was complicated considering how hard he was, and how stupidly tight the pants were. Then Jimin did the same for Tae. His belt fell unceremoniously to the floor. Then heavy fingers fumbled with his crotch. “Fucking slacks,” once again complained Jimin, “you look so big on them.”

“But I’m big,” whispered Tae. “Ah,” then he felt a warm fist reaching his most sensitive skin.

Jimin cackled. “Fucking smug… Bigger then.”

When Tae looked down, the sight was uncanny.

Jimin’s erection was hard against his own belly, dripping cum. And Tae’s own was also high and hard, rutting against it, and against Jimin’s exposed tummy. The red crop top was leaving both members at full display.

Jimin’s hands were busy spreading, with light fingers, some spunk to ease the hand work. But Tae stopped him, taking his hands by the wrist. He let his head fall back, whimpering, summoning strength, then looked at their middle again. He raised Jimin’s wet hands, leaving his erection alone against Jimin’s abdomen, spreading the mess there.

“I don’t want your hands,” muttered Tae. He drew closer to his mouth Jimin’s sleek fingers. “I want to taste you.”

“Oh,” said Jimin, suddenly remembering. “Right.”

He lost a centimeter or two there, when his legs wavered.

Tae smiled seeing his body react so honestly. His pupils were blown out. And mouth redder than his filthy crop shirt. Tae pressed against him, making Jimin’s hills hit the wall, then asked again, moving Jimin’s hands to his hair.

“I wanna taste you. May I?”

“Yes please,” said Jimin, blindly jerking forward. His eyes shut down with pleasure.

Tae lifted Jimin’s shirt over his chest, and then kissed and sucked at it, biting the nipples.

Jimin cried a short “fuck!”. And started breathing heavier and heavier as Tae continued his path down. Jimin’s body shaked against his will when he crossed his belly.

“Fuck, you are so perfect… Can I please taste you?”

“I already said yes.”

Tae went on and licked his stomach, long stripes of the white skin smeared with glossy trails. He felt both the salt and the bitter flavors. Tae hummed pleased, and Jimin whimpered louder. If someone dared to come into the bathroom, they would know immediately what was happening in their stall. But they couldn’t care less.

“Can I now taste you? Your dick? It’s so gorgeous. You are so gorgeous from here behind, so pretty and eager and red all over.” Tae nailed his knees at the floor and dabbed at the head. His long fingers securing the base and grazing Jimin’s balls.

“Yes. I wanna come in your mouth. Ah!” Said Jimin.

When Tae sucked at the tip, suddenly, and then swallowed to get all of Jimin inside his mouth in a swift movement. Jimin cried out loud and with a pained pleasure and Tae felt the first hot streaks meeting his tongue. This wasn’t gonna last. So he sucked harder and started to bow his head at a stupidly fast pace, that made Jimin scream incoherent things.

He was no longer staring. He was barely standing, between the shocks and the tiny space on the stall.

Tae sucked harder each time, and hollowed his cheeks whenever the head got close to his lips, then back to a stop against his palate; Tae was moaning all along, incapable of speaking but wanting to show how much he enjoyed having his mouth filled and damp, and Jimin getting crazy with it. A Jimin who was pulling his hair violently, no longer in control, whining while Tae fisted his own hard on under the same desperation.

“Oh Tae, Tae. Damn. You are so good. Fuck, so, so good. I can’t. I can’t… Aagh!”

Jimin trembled against him, and Tae swallowed it all, ravenous. Only at the very end he left his mouth a bit loose to have some last drop smear his lips and chin. Then he rose to his feet and surprised a low-guarded Jimin with a heated kiss.

Jimin kept moaning all along as if he was still on the ninth cloud, absolutely pleased with tasting himself.

Then both took a couple minutes, one against the other, to take a deep breath and recover some sense.

***

When they both left the stall, having cleaned themselves the best they could with only some paper and their hands, they found a shocked Namjoon waiting.

“You know? You really should kiss in front of the others, so we can all stop pretending that Tae’s crutch isn’t full of glitter. Also, next time you take over a bathroom, please check that there is no one in the stall beside yours.”

Jimin should have felt some shame. But he just laughed, and Tae with him, both weak against the post coital bliss. And then Namjoon flew away, and they got a minute to bend against each other laughing, only a bit embarrassed, then splash some water over to recover. But it was impossible to hide all that happened. An incriminatory trail of glitter in Tae's chin, knees dirty.

So Jimin did the only logical thing a person still under the effects of a groundbreaking orgasm can do: he walked to his friend, standing in a circle at the dance area now, Tae following at his back, their hands grabbed. He stole a drink from Jungkook, downed it in a single gulp. And in front of all the guys, and the jealous people staring, he kissed Tae.

A long, long kiss that kept starting over and over again during the night.

Each time their friends howled.

Each time Jimin felt as if he was getting drunk, although he didn’t drink much more once they stayed on the dance floor.

And each time, Tae’s open smile was wider, prettier, and his eyes starry.

Chapter Text

Everything was fine.

***

“Now, now, now. Raise and shine, lovey doveys! I command some space for the lord between thee. This is a respectable house. You have visits. No fun is allowed in the early morning, remember that I’m here, and my hearing is sadly too good for this.”

“Jungkook, what the fuck!”

A pillow crashed against the wall as Jungkook ducked, and then resumed to pull Tae and Jimin from their feets. The pair had collapsed at Jimin’s bed, and were still dressed as last night, tangled under Jimin’s duvet.

***

As fine as it could be.

***

“You good, love?”

Jimin moved his face against his pillow. No .

“I will turn off the lights.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m gonna get you some water and pills… wanna shower first, or sleep fifteen minutes more?”

“Sleep.”

“Allright babe.”

Tae sat by Jimin's side and kissed his temple before parting. A long, sweet kiss, that worked like medicine.

***

When Jimin joined the land of the living, his eyes were still barely open and his face puffy. But Tae catched his hand as soon as he appeared, and guided him towards his lap. He curled against him as warm arms wrapped his waist. Tae kissed his hair, humming comforting words.

Jimin rejoiced on the perfume of them both using his same shampoo, and of course the lovely nuzzling.

He was boneless after bathing.

“So, are you dating?” Asked an amazed Jungkook, from the opposite side of the table.

That sobered him up well.

It irked something inside him.

“No,” he rushed to reply. As fast as he could. It still took time.

“We still haven't had that conversation. Thank you,” Tae added, his tone a warning for Jungkook.

There was a funny glancing contest, where Jungkook looked at each of them, back and forth, intercalating subjects. He made many faces, most of them with an annoying smile, but finally chose silence.

Jimin sitting on Tae's lap couldn’t see what face the latter made.

But he grabbed his hand, fingers intertwined, and pulled the conversation in a new direction: questions to Kookie, about his work.

***

“So you already slept together. It all makes sense.”

“Not your business.”

“I can’t believe I spent the entire evening with you yesterday and you spilled nothing. I thought I was your friend.”

“Have you ever thought that maybe that was because we didn’t want exactly this? ”

“So there is a we .”

The funny, uncomfortable sensation striked again.

Jimin had jumped on Tae yesterday because one, he couldn’t help it, but two and equally important, because he thought there would be no consequences. They were with their mutual friends. They were all adults. They were all encouraging him to have fun . It didn’t need to be a big deal. Tae was famous for his one night stands. They could brush it off simply saying they kicked off some steam.

He didn’t want an immediate they .

Were they an us ? Already?

“Jungkook, stop pestering Jimin,” yelled Tae from the kitchen, where he was making french toast. “And Jimin, where do you keep the cinnamon?”

***

That was a trap, as soon as Jimin went to the kitchen Tae cornered against his counter.

“Ignore him,” he said, and swiftly kissed him deep and fast. Hands grabbing from his waist and pushing him closer.

Jimin’s legs bowed, mind going blank.

At an alarming pace, everything turned blank. He was clay. Clay in Tae’s hands. The warmth of his body and the sugary taste of his mouth were equally intoxicating. Before realizing he was humming with pleasure, and Tae’s hands teased under his shirt.

“You are so together,” said Jungkook, lurking from the door frame.

And this time Jimin saw Tae’s expression.

He had an innocent, candid smile, like someone that tries to be mad but it’s so damn happy to care.

“Fuck off, Jungkook,” he said.

And resumed kissing Jimin as to show a point, which did drive Jungkook away.

Only now Jimin was distracted.

Scared.

Of all the people, he didn’t expect Tae to misread his intentions last night.

He didn’t expect him to look this… dauntless.

***

Everything was as fine as it could be, until it wasn't.

***

Jimin returned Tae’s hand kisses, and stayed at cuddle distance, in which Tae indulged a lot, during the improvised brunch.

He pretended to smile, and to listen to the random conversations.

A fat lie.

Jungkook let the couple's topic rest a little once food appeared and Tae took over the conversation again, but that didn’t ease Jimin’s discomfort. Tae’s hands were still on him, his eyes would eventually look at him, charged with light and tenderness. And he had looked at him this way in the span of the last week. But now, under the scrutiny of a third party, the meaning singed louder.

Jimin was so cooked.

Tae was invested in this.

In a romantic way. No doubt now, because Tae was parading him, possessive and proud. Even Kookie said:

“You are so whipped.”

And Tae just smiled, and kept talking, a hand on Jimin's burning neck, he silent.

***

He wasn't ready.

***

He had seen the signs.

Of course he had seen them. But he had been thickheaded enough, and scared enough to pretend blindness.

Or if not blind, then dazed.

***

At one moment Jungkook went to the balcony to smoke. Tae used that moment to lean against Jimin.

“You are dead quiet.”

Then he grabbed Jimin's hand and intertwined fingers, he kissed his knuckles. After that he asked:

“Something bothers you?”

The answer was yes, yes, I'm freaking out ,but at that moment, with their hands linked and a rush of affection striking his body Jimin genuinely replied “No.”

***

When Tae kissed him everything was fine.

Only for an instant.

And then the floor disappeared along with him. That had always been true about them. They.

They had been glued for less than a week, but Jimin seemed already wired to just react to the boy, being at his mercy, relentless. To his smiles, his hands always touching, the eyes fixed on him with sweetness.

But once he wasn't there, his mind would charge.

Jimin knew.

And the most time they spent together, the harder the fallout.

He knew.

***

He was already falling before Tae left.

***

It happened in the evening.

The sun was rushing down. The conversation had long swapped towards Jungkook´s conquests of the night, instagram exchanges and numbers, and many trivial tales after that.

Then Tae received a phone call. It was his younger sister, with an electric problem at her house.

She had recently moved to Seoul, for her studies. She was his sweetheart, and Tae doted on her.

Since everything was fine (seemed fine) he asked to go ( it will be fast. Sure you don't wanna come?) and commanded Jungkook to stay until his return, because Jimin still looked ill.

It didn't sit well with Jimin, Tae´s concern for leaving him alone, mostly because he was right.

He felt sick, on the brink of doing something stupid.

“Don't worry. I won't snatch him away, tiger.”

“I’m not a piece of meat,” Jimin said, no smile, as soon as he was left alone with Jungkook.

Jungkook stirred.

First signal.

***

“I'm sorry for being so annoying today… are you mad?” offered Jungkook after a long, awkward silence. Until that question, Jimin was still mentally unwrapping what edged him so much. Because he was plain angry of Jungkook being there, square of him.

Where did it start?

Who was to blame?

Not Jungkook. Him.

Had to be him.

“No, I'm not. I'm just… tired. Still had a headache.”

“Sorry. I will tone it down, but… I wanted you to know, I'm really happy about you two. Even before knowing your past together, I always thought you were really compatible... You both had the same odd way of hugging. The classic friends you wanna introduce because they are both dope and would probably get along just as great.”

“Yeah, how did that go in the end?” Jimin scorned, meaning an old birthday.

Flashes of a still scrawny Kookie signaling one of his news friends hitted Jimin.

Jungkook wasn't to blame. It was him, again.

“That backfired.” Jungkook laughed, after quickly recapitulating. “I almost interrupted my party to throw Tae away. Your reaction made me think he was some kind of psycho.”

An apartment party, cheap and crowded. Jimin had turned around at the very first sight of Tae and hid away in the kitchen.

Were all his exs psychos, or he made them?

“When have I been anything less than dramatic?”

His words were bitter in his mouth, yet he forced a smile.

“The important thing is that my opinion of you both was correct. And now the stars aligned. You have your second chance.”

His optimistic and puppy eyes tickled Jimin´s nerves.

“You are a sap. The stars aligned before and I fucked them up. Don't expect that much of me, Kookie.”

Now he was referencing his own birthday. Because he had a penchant for ruining special days, it seemed.

He was always to blame.

Kookie´s easy, optimistic smile flickered.

Jimin pierced him with his eyes, half surprised, half annoyed.

He knew.

Everybody knew, right?

They knew and still cheered?

After quick calculations and eye movements, Kookie ventured, with a slow peace improper of him:

“You weren’t well, that time.”

***

“Jimin, you are not well.”

“I am… I want this. I need it.”

“It's not right.”

***

Jimin stopped pretending. Made a great show of the discomfort he was feeling, sighing, and letting his face crunch. He had a sudden urge to puke. Jungkook turned on his chair, alarmed.

“Are you okay?”

“I don't want to have this conversation now.”

Jimin got his feet up the chair, his extremities electrified. He hugged himself to not shake, restless.

Jungkook wasn't…

“You know… I think I really need a nap. I'm tired, still hungover and at the verge of my social battery. Would you mind…?”

“Oh, I can stay here until Tae returns, while you sleep. Do you need something?”

He needed to move, so he started to move his foot, covered by the table.

“It's not necessary. Come on, I'm capable of being alone, you know?”

“Sure you are, but…”

“Jungkook, please!” His tone wasn't a plea. He actually was closer to screaming. “I only ask to be on my own, a little while.”

Jungkook stood and went pale.

“All right. I'm sorry for…”

“Just go and I will stay here. Everything will be fine…”

***

Jimin lied.

As soon as Kookie left, he went to his room and changed into jogging pants, and a waterproof jacket. 

He threw his phone at the bed, and took only his keys on his way out. 

He needed to run.

He needed to go out. Think. Space out.

Not think at all.

***

His 25 hadn't started well, if figuring an infidelity was for anyone a way to start a personal year.

He had promptly sent Donghyun to hell, and warned his friends late about the downfall at the following weekend getaway when he arrived at Busan alone, and downed in a disturbing speed his first drink with plenty of cheap vodka on it. Taemin had whistled. Yuujin made a horrified face. Yoongi had put a hand on his shoulder. And Tae, with an arm around Ji-eun´s waist, said nothing but stared hard.

She had been sweet with Jimin, tactful. She had always been sweet. A great girl. With the sweetest dimples.

Jimin had learned to like her even when the first time he saw her casually leaning on Tae's personal space simply jarred something on him.

Ji-eun gave a sympathetic smile to Jimin's grief. “His loss,” she said.

They weren't close but Jimin felt the sincere intention, the empathy.

And then she left him and Tae alone, because she trusted Tae, and accepted that his friend needed him now.

It was his birthday after all.

To no one's surprise, after his sudden declaration, Jimin drank like a possessed man the entire night. The planned pub crawl became a mission, he forced himself to have a nice time. He took each drink with a woah! A smile. He joined every round of dancing. Grinded with everybody.

Hobi kept his pace easily, amen to drinking. But he got snatched by Yoongi at some point. Taemin and Jungkook were also around him in most of his memories. They were encouraging him to go wilder. They were fun. They loved clubs and parties and loved messy.

And there was Tae, who also played with him, who hugged him on good old bangers, dancing together; who joined every round after him and made silly faces to make him laugh. But would also slip a bottle of water on his hands every now and then, and force him to stay hydrated. And each time Jimin faltered, his hand steadied him. When a song charged with meaning tuned, he let his hand over Jimin's heart, knowing.

There was one certain thing about Tae.

He loved him.

There was no mystery.

It showed in the way he always cared for him.

And that night, that week, birthday, Jimin's notion of being loved had been shattered… so he looked at Tae like an apparition in the desert.

Through all the noise, the bodies colliding and the beat of the music trespassing his body from feet to ears, Tae´s reliable hand on him burned his skin.

Each flash of light of the DJ burned Tae´s face behind Jimin´s pupils, because slowly, he became all that Jimin was looking at. And the same happened to Tae in no time.

He catched Jimin´s stare and didn't let go, as his touch.

With innocence at first. A playful complicity.

Then Jimin went too far.

***

Jimin rushed out of his neighbourhood.

He and Tae lived close enough, he didn't want to run on him.

He needed to put a safe distance.

Too conflicted to think on a destination, opted for just turning to the right each time it was possible.

People, houses and markets rushing through his vision as he speeded through a fading reality.

***

“Jimin, you are not well.”

“I am… I want this. I need it.”

“It's not right.”

Tae tried to turn him back when Jimin kissed him.

Before returning the kiss for maybe a minute. Before breathing him as a wave of fresh air. Before caressing him with as much strength and desperation as tenderness and fascination.

He was still staring at him with lips parted.

The darkness of the disco favouring the deep pools of his eyes.

Jimin had insisted on keeping going, no ounce of shame, beyond being drunk. He grinded and pouted, humming against Tae´s neck. Hands traveling his chest.

But when Tae resisted, moaning in despair, he eventually realized.

Where they were.

Who they were.

Jimin stumbled away, gaining distance quickly.

A few meters meant dozens of people.

Tae stayed put in the middle of the foreign dance floor, he was lost to him quickly. Their friends were, luckily, also far away. He wasn't looking for the group. He didn't want to be seen.

He shouldn't have made that.

What have you done?

Spacing away, spiraling, Jimin found a man staring at him.

A suggestive way.

Head tilted showing neck, chin raised.

It would do, he assumed.

He came closer, his mind buzzing. Exchanged a couple of tentative looks and gestures. The man signaled an emergency exit, and they both walked in that direction.

That's when a large hand closed over his wrist and pushed him outside the building.

It was Tae, fuming.

“ What the hell are you doing ?” he yelled at him, completely out of himself, in the backyard of the bar, between empty boxes and many, many empty bottles, an obscure forgotten place.

One minute later they were making out against the wall.

***

It all seemed oddly familiar.

After half an hour, the thought sparked.

Of course, if you keep turning left each time, you will end up running in circles!

Cussing, his lungs and hands protesting at the cold air, Jimin took one to the right.

Then found a familiar path, and just followed it.

***

If a fuck had the power of ruining lifes, Jimin wished that he was at least capable of remembering it. But no. It was mostly a blur. A shameless mix of due I miss you and I want you, I want you .

What he did remember, was waking up, and running to the bathroom to throw up.

He struggled with the massive airBNB layout that Donghyun booked in a fever dream a month ago. It will be so fun. A weekend at the beach, with our friends!

A guilty bitch overcompensating, in his finest.

Jimin kept picking the wrong door, catching glimpses of their friends wasted, sleeping tight, making them flinch with the noise and sudden light of a door opening.

It was a hellish labyrinth.

And despite all the dead people, he had to cross her awake, restless, waiting.

She smiled at him, only with his mouth.

Helped him, oblivious, full of good intentions, as he doubled himself at the bath sink.

***

He remembered how his skin burned at Tae´s proximity.

Against his wishes. Against all that was good.

***

She stayed a month at Tae's side. But she no longer looked at Jimin with a smile.

***

What have you done?

***

He never got to forget the guilt.

***

The guilt grew in November, when Tae showed up to his Gala alone. Battered and with dark circles, but there.

He never missed his openings.

Jimin didn’t greet him, he hid.

***

What the hell have you done, Jimin?

***

Tae tried to reach him, Jimin didn’t let him.

***

If he was with someone else, would that be enough?

Would that drive Tae away?

Would it take him off his mind?

***

Jimin reached the border of Itaewon with a line of cold sweat pooling on his back and a blurred sight. His breath was too fast. He wouldn’t have recognized the neighbour if the coloured lights and music of the many clubs and little bars weren’t starkly telling. And the sea of people, of all classes, brushing at him while passing.

People looking at him.

Completely indifferent people.

People laughing and having a good time.

Were they laughing at him?

People incapable of walking straight.

He slowed down as the groups became larger and larger. Coming in and out from doors, always looking for the next place.

He stopped when it became impossible to move, and the world spinned.

Then Jimin noticed a bar with a rainbow flag and squeezed in, his body shaking, agitated. Loud music bathed him as he crossed the door, vibrations brimming through his body, yet it didn't muffle his thoughts.

They were too many, they were one over the other. It was a chaotic noise. A thread of different strings impossible to follow, all tangled as they were.

***

“He is so whipped.” He is falling in love with me. Don’t be ridiculous. You are a mess. A mess. “Why don’t you ask him?” If I fuck up this time, again, there is no way of coming back. “Why are you always begging for attention like that? Grow up!” “I exposed you to this, I’m sorry.”

Kookie’s birthday: A contained crisis. Terror from his side.

We are no good. We don’t know how to talk. “Don’t ask me to see you in pain and keep my distance. That’s the last thing I want.” It is pity. It has to be pity. “Won’t you do something? Don’t you love me, for christ sake?” I’m withering, that’s why.

His last birthday: the apocalypse. Heartbreak, insecurities, relapse.

Ain’t you tired of being this pathetic?

***

Jimin stumbled to the bar and raised a finger. Whatever was fine.

He gulped it down in one movement, fire running through his throat, but somehow it wasn't warmer than his own flesh. Held to the table he looked around.

***

First Tae, who had three years, yet it never came, it didn't shine when it mattered. Then Donghyun, almost two. He thought he managed it, finally. Love. He opened himself, again. But again, it wasn’t enough: he cheated on him. Then he cheated as well (was the third one).

Fucked everything. Fucked big time.

The show, Tae in the public. The flowers. The flowers every time. Every damn time. “You sure you can’t come?” “I understand, relax.” “It was my fault, sorry.” Maybe he needed distance. Things were blurry now.

Tae’s birthday: Soowon’s formal entrance.

His pained Face. Shocked.

Which birthday was next? Yoongi? The split of their group? Yoongi and Hobi for him. Namjoon and Jin for Tae. Kookie in between. Kookie was terrified, on his own birthday. He was barely 21.

***

“Another one.”

“I invite this one,” said a voice to his side.

***

“It’s your fault, you ruined my expectations back in the day.” Had he been less dramatic, what would be different? Every morning, every glance. It had been so joyful, it had been so calm. No one seemed surprised. “I think I deserve an apology.” “They do sell you off, those slacks.” Their friends cheered.

“What’s going on Tae? If you don’t tell me I can’t help you.” The audition. End of school. Daegu. His parents and siblings. The panic attacks. “You are weird with him.” “You are awfully close.”

“Honey, what would I not let you do to me?”

***

How he got to know Soowon had been in a similar situation… only worse.

He had been drunk, sitting alone in a bar stool. Harsh words playing on his head: that he should push Tae away, before it was late. Empty glasses surrounding him. And there Soowon came in, inviting him to another one.

Red flag from the start.

Yet Jimin smiled, one of his flawless smiles that showed nothing behind. This new person smiled back and drank a round with him. He still wasn’t completely drunk, but was determined to be. Determined to shut up the voices.

***

It was done. It was already ruined. There was no going back.

***

The person, the man, he could be really bad, or really good, no telling. He was talking to Jimin, making all the effort of putting conversation, smile, while Jimin simply stared at his mouth moving and yapping with no end. But Jimin had no fucking idea of what he was saying. The words passed through his mind without being processed. He just nodded and hummed every now and then as mirror reflexes.

His mind was still playing fifty different channels and memories. The music was a dull noise, hitting more of his body through the vibrations than through the sound.

Crawling through his skin as ghost spiders.

Grabbed to his stool, with fingers clenched, Jimin tried to slow down his breath, make it so slow and deeper that the entire room stopped circling. But he earned a hand on his shoulder instead, from the stranger.

Good guy, bad guy. Hard to tell, but maybe good at the end, because the hand didn’t go to his waist.

And he asked, it took Jimin a couple of repetitions to understand, but the worried face was the most clarifying thing.

“Are you okay?” He repeated.

It was an older guy. His wrinkles appeared starker with his fear.

Jimin was hunching over his stall, arms extended stiff and knuckles white.

“No,” Jimin answered, his voice barely audible.

He moved, shaking his head to clarify over the white deafening sound, the feeling of pressure, blocking his ears, and gasped a mouthful of air. He was still breathing so fast, against his best attempts to relax.

But still, the air wasn’t filling him.

His lungs were aching.

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe.

He managed to get down from his chair, and curled over the high cushion, legs and hands shaking, and body trembling. He felt cold, dead-cold and scared. He screamed, or tried to scream. He wasn’t hearing shit. Only was aware of the acute pain in his chest. His burning lungs.

It ached.

It ached.

Everything burned for an infinite span. A painfully long eternity where Jimin thought he was burning from inside out. The air leaving him burning, the tears burning his cheeks. The floor and reality falling under him.

But then the air came back. Then the sounds.

He heard his labored breath first and sobs, then the music, and finally the voices.

Saw the men, and the barman, circling him, keeping him standing. Lot of strangers staring, judging.

“Shit! I'm sorry, sorry…” he broke.

***

A funny thing.

Tae never changed his number. It was still the same as their flip phone years. 

“Just in case,” he once said.

Jimin was bad with numbers. And if someone asked, he wasn't certain of being able to recite it well even if he had marked it a million times. Probably he would swap one number today. But his muscular memory was another thing. His fingers still knew the patron to dial his best friend.

A code for a gentle voice, and long ramblings in nights apart.

He marked Tae’s number, an hour later, with the good man's phone.

He had ascended to a good man. It was just a lonely, old man, with a missing ring, who had tried to make conversation with a kindred soul.

Jimin still wasn't sure if he was correct while the phone rang, but he didn't have energy to care. Yet at the second tune, Tae picked up.

“Jimin? Jimin, is that you?”

His voice was a sharp and off tune.

“Jimin, where the fuck are you?”

Chapter Text

When Jimin broke up with him, back at seventeen (days of eighteen), it had been minutes after a panic attack. All the time it took the damn thing to end, Tae had been useless.

Jimin was a sobbing mess, on his knees, curled over himself scratching his dancing tights with desperation, hyperventilating.

Tae was at his side, mumbling. A hand on his hair, another in the back. But honestly, he did not help.

He may as well not have been there.

And he knew what was happening.

Jimin told him of the first one, days ago, and gave the thing a name. Now he knew what it meant: he had seen his mother in the same position many times over the last year.

A thing he never talked about.

Never inquired, too scared.

He should have known what to do now.

But seeing Jimin like that, only minutes away from him exploding, demanding answers about Daegu, cemented an idea in his mind.

He was responsible for this.

He was to blame.

So when the blade fell over their relationship he forced himself to remain silent, to not cry. Not fret or beg.

Her mother had pleaded for distance to his father, that's what Daegu was. 

Maybe also distance was the most considerate thing he could offer to his love.

He wasn't enough.

He never was.

***

He had been so stupid.

Looking at Jimin behind the bar table, a glass of water pressed between his fingers as a life jacket, pale, and hunched without an apex of his usual grace, he knew.

He knew that fragility.

And a hot wave of anger took over his body at Jimin's lies, the distance, how he pushed help away.

But mostly, he was angry with himself, because he didn’t realize until it was too late.

***

Tae was behind the wheel. He was mad. Really mad. His mouth was a thin line and all his body had an unnatural stiffness product of his effort to bottle up the rage. Everything on him screamed high pressure, and the paced breath, the slow blinks, weren't doing the trick of evacuating it.

Jimin didn't have the power to endure it. He was lying boneless in the companion seat. Eyes set on the window.

“What were you thinking?” Barked Tae, shaking his head, after looking for his eyes and finding a cold shoulder.

“I wasn't thinking.”

“Clearly,” he huffed.

A red light.

Stop.

Silence.

“What were you trying to do?” Tae tried, lowering his voice.

“I don't know,” Jimin slurred.

“Are you drunk?”

“No. I tried though.”

“Why the hell…?”

“I was trying to get laid, to push you away.”

Green light. Tae was slow to move. Shocked.

“You are not well,” he mumbled, when he finally hit the gas again.

“No. I told you.”

“Did you?” The question was genuine, tinted with fear. It wasn't a quick reply.

“No. I had an anxiety attack instead. Fun time.”

“Jesus. Fucking. Christ.” Tae cursed each word.

“I needed time alone,” Jimin continued. Initiating for once.

“To do this?” Tae hit a high peach, against his best efforts. Then he pressed his open hands over the wheel, pushing lower, also trying to drop his voice, nerves, hot blood.

“It was a matter of time. You can't guard me 24/7.”

“You better believe I will after this.”

“I don't want you to.”

“Well, choose your fighter. I will drop you wherever. Or drag whoever, but you are in no position after this to…”

“Do as you want.”

Jimin closed his eyes and tuned the world out.

***

They arrived at Jimin's home on short notice. There Jimin shielded himself in the bathroom while Tae took the kitchen.

As expected, because of practical and cheap design, they were only a wall apart.

An unnatural silence reigned for minutes. No one seemed to move. Jimin was square to the mirror, looking at nothing in particular, the box of the shower. Then two heavy thuds sounded, startling him. Then a long sigh.

Following the sound, he crossed sight with the mirror.

He looked like a folklorical ghost. A pale, terrifying thing.

Jimin stared at his reflection in disgust, as he heard Tae unwinding, then making calls. Each conversation tearing his features in the mirror harder, making his mouth quiver.

“Yeah, I found him.”

Tae sounded drained to his last drop of blood.

“He, he is not fine. He was dissociating in some bar.”

“Yeah, I'm staying.”

“I think that's for the best, he is in no condition to go. Thank you.”

“Sure. I will catch up later.”

Those had to be Yoongi and Hobi.

Jimin rested against the door. Hands going at his hair.

“Hey, JK. I found him. He's fine… Will be.”

Long pause.

“CaIm down. It's okay... It's not necessary. I will stay.”

Jimin still hadn't retrieved his phone. It was probably by his bed. But he pictured the missing calls. The texts. 

Then Tae recorded a voice message.

“Night sun-bae, I'm sorry about the hour but, I won't be able to clock in tomorrow. I had a family emergency. I will make it up to you. Sorry. I will update you tomorrow.”

At that last message, Jimin sobbed. Hands covering his face, his mouth.

He didn't want this.

He really didn't. 

He hated to be such an inconvenience. A pain in the ass. A constant worry for everybody who knew him.

Yet a tiny part of him had felt relief at being called family.

***

Tae did kick the wall, twice.

And a third one seemed just fine.

Jimin had shut himself, ran away. He was doing great. He imposed himself as a typical douche. He couldn't be that hot headed himself, not when Jimin counted for two.

He sighed.

Why had Jimin done this? His head throbbed. Everything was so good earlier. Tae was acting freely, finally, because everyone knew already. And he looked so receptive, so happy.

Looked , was the key word.

You are stupid. How couldn’t you see? 

Was Jimin that bad, and he didn’t recall all these days? Or was he still standing until he cornered him into chaos? What he just did bordered an act of self harm. Had he crossed the wrong person, it could have ended really, really bad.

“I was trying to get laid, to push you away.”

Tae muffed a scream. It became a searing, hurtful whistle on the top of his throat. Like the pressured whistle of a locomotive. He raised his head, blinking, to clean his eyes and see straight again.

It is my fault. Tae thought, and his chest ached like never before.

He had scared Jimin. He should have given him time. He fucking took advantage of him in a moment of vulnerability and now what? Jimin was again forcing distance between them, he did once, twice, and asked for it again days ago, and because Tae didn’t accept it he now tried with more extreme actions.

He had to fix this. He had to fix it somehow…

Tae left the kitchen with feet faster than his thoughts. He had no clue of how to solve this, but he needed to do something. It wasn’t fair that Jimin suffered alone. He…

He stumbled with Jimin when turning into the corridor, almost running over him.

They latched at each other, from arms and clothes in the confusion, bumping, but both quickly let go of the other standing an arm apart, once both recovered their footing. Jimin looked way too shacked for such a little clash, half resting against the wall. His eyes were red. He seemed smaller than he was, half hunched, looking upwards to Tae.

“I’m…” he mumbled.

“I’m sorry for screaming at you. I shouldn’t have. I got scared, and lost my…” Hurried Tae.

“Sorry for running,” Jimin rushed too.

Tae’s hands opened and closed. He bit his tongue to not give an immediate poisonous answer. 

“Are you sorry for scaring everybody, or for the danger you exposed yourself? Because there is a difference.”

Jimin blinked, half surprised, then half disgusted.

“I’m first of all ashamed.” Jimin’s voice cracked, showing some raw honesty. “The rest will come in time, once I process what I did.”

“That's not good.” Tae rested his back against the opposite wall. Inhaled. Exhaled. They were both packed in the corridor. “I don’t want to impose my presence here, but you have to make sense, Jimin. Be accountable.”

“At least I’m being honest.”

Tae huffed.

“At least you are.”

He had a point. He was in no position to talk. But Tae wanted, needed to know…

Tae studied Jimin, his weak stand, his shying eyes that avoided him, red rimmed. He opened his mouth, but let almost a minute pass before finally speaking, incapable of retaining the words any longer. When he spoke, his words carried no power. The affirmation between the question, draining him completely.

“Why do you want to push me away, Jimin?”

***

“Because I don’t deserve you.”

He couldn't say that.

It hurted. It hurted. It hurted.

Jimin shut his eyes. Breathing in. 

It was the truth.

The sad truth.

But Tae would argue. And he had no strength left to fight. He could barely stand. His mind and body were catching up, and his muted chorus was rest, please.

His body collapsed, he was made of clay and the questions, and the questions runned through him like water, cracking him.

I need peace. Warmth.

Warmth. Jimin found himself resting against Tae. His head recoiling under his chin, and fists closing over the end of his shirt, pulling off the fabric as an anchor. Tae was slow to react, but once he enveloped him in his arms, he felt warm.

“I'm too tired for this.” Jimin begged.

He couldn't move. Tae was squeezing him hard, mouth against his temple and heart beating like crazy. It was almost noisy, Jimin liked it. It distracted him from his mind.

“It's okay.” Tae shushed. “It's okay, babe.”

Jimin's legs faltered, but Tae was holding his weight.

“Go to bed, honey.”

Jimin tried to move, and signal yeah, sure , but he was entirely wrapped, secured.

“I can't,” he chuckled.

And Tae realized how he imprisoned him in his embrace, and also chuckled.

Both shadows of a laugh. But it was something.

He knew he shouldn't, but what was one more indulgence?

Tae helped him to his bed. His hands and legs weren't steady. It was funny to Jimin, how still seemed natural to him, to receive help from Tae, get undressed, wrapped. Deja vu from the times he injured himself with practice, probably. He was reckless as a teenager. Didn't know his boundaries.

That still applied, in many spheres.

“I'm such a mess,” he laughed again. cocooned on his bed, and Tae seated at his side.

But this humor was a mask. And Tae was no fool. He grabbed his hand, giving him a comforting pressure.

“You are alright, still you. Only a bit patched up.”

Jimin teared up. He held Tae's hand stronger.

“I'm not the same you loved before.”

“It wouldn't make sense if you were, much has passed. But all that matters, is still there, love.”

Tae went very intentionally there. He stared. He squeezed his hand. He paused between each word.

Jimin felt his cheeks burn. And maybe his forehead too, feverish.

He should have stopped Tae on his tracks.

Ban any L Love.

But that was a part of him definitely unchanged. The need for love. Attention. He was a beggar in that field.

So he scooped some place at his side and pulled from Tae's hand, getting him closer, head on the same pillow. Then closed his eyes stubbornly.

In no time his exhaustion won and he fell unconscious.

But before he felt a tender caress on his cheek. And Tae’s low voice mumbling.

“I'm here. I'm here. I'm not leaving you.”

And their hands were still intertwined.

***

Jimin woke up first. But he stayed put, very quiet and silent like a mouse, observing at Tae. He was uncomfortably standing on his side, at the border of the bed. Only his hands sprayed forward, one covering Jimin's neck, the other over his right hand, tangled together.

This will be hard, he thought. Hard to let go.

How could it be? He tried to imagine instead.

Having him there, each morning. Each day. What a sight that would be.

Bickering over some coffee. French toasts after long nights. Eat away for even longer ones.

Tae smiling over the console, singing at him.

Thematic nights. Double dates with Hobi and Yoongi. Some tough parenting with Jeon Jungkook. Dancing and Jazz. Always music on. His house slowly turning into a comfortable place, finally. Jimin never had that magical touch that made a home, but Tae had, bountifully.

He cared about purpose and meaning. Matching mugs and memories.

They would make more photo albums. Jimin could retrieve the one hidden in his closet, of their teenage years. Two kids discovering Seoul together. Figuring out their attraction.

Make new memories.

They had such nice memories together. Still Jimin buried them for years, because a bitter farewell was enough for tainting all good things with rust.

Yet Tae came back. The moment Jimin finally let go of his memory, or so he thought, he appeared again. Fate was cruel and capricious. It had to make Jimin aware: Of course you are not over him. Of course this story isn't done.

And Jimin had to crawl from under his toughened skin, and forgive. Because he was the bitter one, because he was also to blame, and repenting at this point.

And with forgiveness, he won a friend.

He recovered his best friend.

Tae, his best friend.

He shouldn't be on his bed. That was the issue. He shouldn't be calling Jimin his love, even when it delighted his senses. Because it was misplaced, it was dangerous. One more relationship Jimin had warped around him. He was a bottomless well, that no matter how much love you poured into, still wanted more, always more.

And he couldn't do that to Tae. He couldn't burden him with impossible expectations. He was too important. The person that knowed him best. And if he ever got tired, if he gave up on him, then what would that tell over himself? That he was unlovable, a pester, a whiny kid for whom there were never enough flowers and kind words.

And Tae wasn't good with words.

While himself, he wasn’t good at all.

***

Tae woke up to a failed attempt from Jimin to share his blanket.

“Sorry,” Jimin whispered, as soon as Tae jolted, confused. “Go back to sleep. I was just covering you.”

“You are awake,” he stated the obvious with his cooked brain, fighting to sit. He had needed hours to fall asleep. Whatever time it was now (impossible to know, Jimin's room was so dark when the curtains were down) it hadn't been enough. “How are you?” He asked from above, squeezing. Jimin had dark rings under his eyes.

“Better,” said he, boneless, without moving.

Tae decided to believe, not inquire from the start. Nothing good could come out of that.

“Good.”

But he wasn't blind.

“Do you feel like a full fleshed human, or still need to sleep?”

“Second one.”

“Yeah. Me too,” Tae agreed

And in a surprising gesture, Jimin made more space for him. They went under the blankets together, and as soon as Tae went in, Jimin hugged him. And leaving out a sigh of relief, Tae returned the embrace.

He was hot, his clothes were uncomfortable, but under any point of view, he would complain.

He indulged and kissed Jimin's forehead, and let the boy curl himself against him.

***

“What now?” Said Tae hours later.

He and Jimin had both resuscitated after a couple hours of good rest (the proximity helped) and spent a long, long time staring at each other in silence, playing legemancy.

Jimin was simply buying time, committing to his memory the face in front of him, while Tae had his concentrated face, the one of learning new instruments, or solving maths. One hand laid over Jimin's back, against the skin, and one finger was unconsciously tapping since ages.

Jimin's stomach was a tight bundle.

“You hungry?” He tried.

“Not really.”

“Yeah. Me neither.”

He huffed. Both were probably reaching a day without eating, but any thought of food was nauseous.

There was no quick escape.

He gave a deep inhale and…

“It was too much,” Jimin started, And Tae's erratic tapping halted. His hand slowly pressed down, as he gulped air and his face lit up with attention. “We, have much history, and it was silly thinking we could play it casually. You acting like my boyfriend, it freaked me out. And I allowed it, I know, I went after you time and time again, but I shouldn't have. I shouldn't have kissed you in front of the group.”

“I told you I didn't mind.”

“We are not a thing. You know that? Everybody assumed we are now.”

Tae grimaced.

“Jungkook isn't everybody. Whatever he told you…”

“You changed too. Well… no, but it's not the same. Being us in front of others. We can't present like a couple.”

“Is that your limit?”

“No.”

Jimin broke contact, sitting in the middle of the bed, wrapping himself on a shield of blankets. His knuckles turned white as he stretched the fabric tight. Tae also sat, pulling his back against the board and with elbows over his high knees, hands clasped together with strength.

There was a disturbing element to his unheaved look, with his one day old wrinkled clothes, bare feet, hair pointing everywhere, and pale demeanor.

He looked sick, weak, washed out, but his stare was anything but that. It panicked Jimin out.

It was firm, decided. Whatever he wanted to say was dangerous. Final.

Jimin rushed. Blurted his truth out, with his voice trembling  and cracking. He had to be fast, or Tae would talk.

“I want to end this.” He said. Tae's mouth fell. “We are playing with fire.” His gaze was incredulous, his head moving to the sides, harder and harder with each word. Jimin rushed the words. “We are falling in love, and that can't be. That won't do any good to any of…”

“I am in love with you!” Tae erupted, correcting him, standing on his feet, voice cracking.

And then paced the room in erratic, huge steps, grabbing his head, mumbling, as Jimin stared in panic. “God, it wasn't supposed to come out like this.”

Jimin choked on air. It Couldn't be. It couldn't.

“It has been an intense week, you are confused and I get it…”

“No, I'm not confused.” Tae pointed rudely at him. “I do love you, let's state that clearly.”

“Come on, Tae. One week ago we weren't even talking.”

“No! You don't get to decide how I feel. This spans more than one week, and you know it, Jimin.”

“How long then? You were with another person months ago. Me too. We were friends then, and I'm trying to protect that!”

“Jimin, friends don't do this,” he pointed to the bed.

“Exactly my point.”

“God. How deep in denial are you? How many randos are you gonna pull in between to keep us apart?”

Tae snapped and Jimin fought himself to remain calm, hands buried, undercover.

“You have no say in what I choose to do.”

“I do. I do when I'm the fucking cause. You said it yourself, it's to push me away. Why? Why? Am I that dangerous to you? So unfit?”

Jimin snapped, shaking from the blankets, his hands raising and pointing. Tearing from invisible strains.

“You take out the worst of me! I've got no control around you.”

“Well, maybe if you weren't forcing yourself into things you don't really want you weren't glitching that bad.”

“Right, of course. It's my fault. What the fuck do you want from me then if I'm That fucked up.”

“I want it all!’ Don't you see?” Tae stopped his aggressive stomping, and got closer, knees against the mattress. His face was red and teary. “I don't care for past mistakes. I just want to make it right now. It's my fault too, for being a coward.”

Tae kneeled on the bed, making his voice smaller too. At eye level with a retreating Jimin.

“I should have been upfront. I should have told you right away, that I wanted you. That you never were anything short of perfect, for me. When I found you, when you were heartbroken, even now, I tried to be your friend, I swear I tried, because that's what was on the table, but I failed because I never really wanted that. I'm like you. It took me some time to realize, cause I'm also thick on the head, and a little detached from myself, but God. You chiseled who I am and what I like once to fit, together, and since then no one compares. You are the shape of all I like.”

A ringing took over Jimin's ears. Tae’s voice started to fade as his first words replayed on his head.

Perfect for me. I do love you. You are the shape…

“And I'm sorry for acting under pretenses, and cornering you when this is probably the last thing you want to hear. But I can't keep lying to you. I want you.”

“Stop.”

Jimin begged, mumbling, looking out to a fading wall and ropes of sheets.

“I wish I was this honest months ago, maybe then, I would have spared you some real pain.”

“Please stop!”

Jimin inhaled and exhaled at a fast pace, his throat sounding wet each time, busy.

“I can't manage this. I can barely follow you. What do you mean with…?” Jimin shut himself, biting his tongue.

He didn't need to know. He didn't need this.

“What matters is that I'm in no position to reciprocate you, on whatever you think you feel about me.”

“What I feel .”

God, he was set on that ridiculous take.

Ridiculous speech that made his world spin.

“I can't, Tae. I don't believe you… Lust isn't love.”

A line pulsated between Tae's jaw and cheek, his teeth clashing.

“Pushing me away for my own sake isn't lust either. Yet you are trying to.”

“Alright. Nothing is so black and white. That's the problem. We are right there, in the middle, but I can't handle it. I can't be what you will expect of me. I can barely be your friend. And right now I need my friend. Please.”

For the first time in all the discussion, Jimin reached towards Tae. He let the sheets fall. His hands offered his open palms. Waiting.

But Tae didn't take them. He even looked aside, gasping.

The pain of the rejection hit even before he spoke. Jimin’s blood burning.

“Sorry, I… I can't be that. Only that. And I hate myself for not being what you need but I won't lie... It’s everything, or nothing at all.”

And he dared to threaten him? Corner him?

Jimin stared at his bare hands, filled with electrical, hot blood now, shaking.

“So… you are throbbing me aside.”

“No. I said…”

Jimin rose up and pushed Tae out of bed. The hit made one of his feet meet the floor, Tae stared bewildered, out of balance. Then Jimin pushed again, and both were standing over the cold floor, marching to the door.

“Leave,” he wailed. “I don't want to see you. Leave!”

Tae resisted the shoves, making his body firm against Jimin’s pushes. He tried to hold Jimin’s wrists, raise them above, but he squirmed, yelling, and Tae’s grip failed, slipping to his arms, then simply air. Tae grunted and took an easier objective: he grabbed at his clothes, his back. “Jimin stop.”

“I’m done with you.”

“I meant…” his voice raised as Jimin tried to shackle out of his hands. Tae circled him tighter, with both arms now, as Jimin hitted his chest. “For christ sake. I meant that now…”

“You are a jerk! I choose nothing. I want, nothing of you! Disappear from my sight! Let me go, or…”

Time collapsed. One minute was all crushing together, a mess of limbs and curses. But between the first and second nothing , it stilled -long enough for him to understand what he said. From peripheral sight, to full focus, Tae’s face morphed, from red, annoyed cussing, to a white death face, a soulless, bounded thing. Then determination took over. And just after his eyes settled on slowmo on his face, time catched up and he rushed into his space as an unstoppable force.

Tae kissed him.

Angry and desperate.

Suddenly his arms that were struggling to contain him crushed his body in a tight hug. He was fierce, bending over Jimin, and bruising his mouth. And Jimin parted his lips. No words came out, only a shameful moan. His body betrayed him and merged against Tae. The knot on his insides turned into a scorching creature that twisted and growed inside him.

He released one arm, only to bend it behind Tae’s head, pulling down from his hair. Returning the kiss with even more desperation.

His taste was poisonous. Jimin lost all sense at first touch. Tae's tongue twisted inside him like a snake, and he trailed after it. His entire body was acting by inner volition.

“I didn’t mean it,” he said when he offered his neck, in a feverish urge.

“Don’t you dare. You can’t.” Tae repeated as he sank his teeth with violence. Jimin wanted the marks. Wanted scars if possible.

They had stumbled against a wall. Tae was ripping the neck from Jimin’s shirt, going for his shoulder. Meanwhile Jimin floated on his own heaven, legs curled over Tae’s hips. All of him was pressed, hot, he was burning, head to toe. Yet he insisted.

“Hold me. Hold me. I need you.”

And then the opposite happened: Jimin's feet landed on the cold floor, as Tae went stiff, heaving, pulling out, hands hanging from Jimin's clothes.

“What’s going on?” 

His skin screamed, bare and abandoned as Tae recoiled one meter apart, looking sick and troubled, both hands covering his mouth. A suffocated sigh whistled in his throat.

Jimin waited, frozen, not used to Tae’s visible discomfort.

“Fucking Christ, Jimin, can't we end this fucking loop?”

He was shaken, stricken by the word.

“I don't want bits of you. I want it all. Can't take you by parts.”

“Oh.”

“No more.” Tae's eyes shined.

Jimin knew.

God Lord. He knew.

He needed him. The idea of Tae leaving terrified him.

“But I can't offer more. It's not fair to you.”

Tae shook his head, licking, then biting his lips, with his eyes closed, racing under the eyelids.

The adrenaline he exuded dropped, in a completely different channel now. A cold and caustic one. Tae looked in pain, smashing his teeth together.

He found the words, just before Jimin walked to hug him, protect him. Two things that were mutually exclusive.

Tae stuttered.

“When I let you go, at seventeen, because I truly believed It was the better choice, cause I wasn't worthy, nor enough, did that make you any good?”

Big, big set back. The mental trip almost dropped Jimin to a sitting position.

But the answer was easy, it came out naturally.

That didn't mean it still didn't hurt.

“No,” he whispered.

“Then you pushing me away won't spare me any pain either. If you really wanna protect me… don't make my same mistakes.”

That said, Tae left.

Chapter Text

To be fair, Tae didn't hit him and run.

Jimin got the details later, but he sat on the stairs of his floor for a couple of hours, waiting for one of the guys to be free and show up.

“He told me you needed a friend,” Jin said later, apologetically at his door.

Jimin almost blasted the door onto him, triggered, but Jin was faster rushing in.

“You look like shit. Did you leave your apartment at all today? Go shower and change. We are getting dinner.”

***

Jin was quiet. Quiet and calm, but relentless.

He just stood there, five meters apart, playing games on his phone while he directed Jimin outside of his agitated state. Jimin wanted to yell, and make him leave, but the subtle authority of his hyung was stronger.

Just there, imposing.

And Jimin knew what he was doing. It was the basics of self care:

“Bath.”

“Use something warmer. We are going out.”

“We are going to the Han. You need fresh hair...”

Jin had not only the authority of being the older, but also from knowing, in his own skin.

For being the clown of the group, he was quite versed in pain, as often happened.

His silence, whenever it came, was loud.

“I can’t,” Jimin begged, later. A hot ramen pot in front of him.

His stomach was a knot, dark and painful, the urge to puke winning by second.

They were sitting by the riverbank, on one of the picnic tables of the Han. Only that it was way past the devil’s hour, so even such a touristic place was deserted. The hush of water cutting the eerie night.

“Half the discomfort is your hunger talking. Eat, Jimin. it's always eat or get eaten.”

Jin dabbed into his own pot. No more looks, no touches, no begging. Only sadness and weariness bleeding into the stillness between them. Uncomfortable enough to make Jimin sip his soup.

And later, when Jin’s words proved right, and the warm meal eased the beast on his innards, the pain passed from distractingly physical, to overwhelming, spiritual. Half his share in, Jimin let his chopsticks fall, cold hands closed in fists. Eyes closed. Hearing the wind play with the silvery surface of the water.

A soft breeze blew, and Jimin breathed it with reverie, but there was no salt on it.

“I miss the sea,” said the kid from Busan.

Voice way more sad than what the affirmation deserved.

“It's close enough. You could go tomorrow.”

Jin’s tone was plain. Sounded sarcastic to him. Jimin wrinkled.

Quick solutions, easy answers… only that he wasn’t the same happy kid that used to play by the waves, or even the teenager that gave his first kiss knee deep on them.

It wasn’t the place that he missed, but the ease.

What was that he lost that it went away? When?

“Go with Tae.”

Jimin landed on his table, gasping, on the uncomfortable chair he was sitting on. The name . He stared at Jin, briefly hating him for ushering the name. His friend had his hands on his pockets, arms glued to his body and a thick jacket, with a high neck. He shivered against his best attempts to simply stay.

The hate passed quickly, to give space to shame and then emptiness again. Pain.

Maybe he owed this conversation to his hyung.

Maybe that was the only way he would stop perching him.

“I lost Tae, hyung.” Jimin said, his voice struggling to go out.

It wasn't fair. He was just trying to spare him…

Jin stretched, absorbing his words. No clear reaction. But maybe, triumph? The shadow of a smirk that was to ugly for his handsome face.

“How so?”

“He declared to me. And I rejected him.” Jimin saw flashes of their last conversation. Don't make my same mistakes. Felt, once again, the desperation clutching his chest, stealing his air “It didn't go well.”

“So that’s what happened,” Jin’s smirk grew wider, and with it, Jimin’s uneasy feeling. “I don’t know… Tae is as stubborn as stupid. I wouldn't believe you got rid of him that easily.”

“But I will. I can’t have him.” Jimin emulated Jin’s grimace as reflex, no real humor in it. “And once he walks away, so will you.”

Team Tae. Jin would always be team Tae.

They had been friends first.

His eyes itched.

Dispair.

The inevitable fallout.

He had no tears left, so his eyes just ached.

Against that, Jin laughed: an imposed, deep and loud mocking laugh that was nothing like him.

That chilled Jimin’s blood.

Turned the entire mood of what he felt like a  slow push and pull to a dark wave engulfing him. Something unfolded, a palm scraping against the metal of the table. Jin started moving fast. Hands and arms undergoing aborted motions, his eyes shinny.

“Tell me more, Jimin! Tell me what I’m gonna do, you know better, clearly…” His friend stood, grabbing the cold ramen cups, and crushed them cussing. Then he walked to the closest trash bin and shoved them down, only to return, yelling. “What’s on your plans then, that will assure you of our hate? What will be this time? Huh?”

He stopped on his feet a meter apart, his jaw clenching. He didn’t know that Jin’s face was capable of that, of being nasty and scary.

But here he was, his neck red, and eyes crumbling.

“Tell me or I will play guess too. I can also pretend I know it all.”

“ I… No– ” Jimin bumbled.

“What scares you the most? Is it how he actually cares ? How we care? Or is it just the idea of being loved despite yourself? Because I saw plenty of you throwing yourself at people that kept you at arm length. Like you like it.”

Jimin got slashed.

Too seen.

Too deep.

The first reaction was to deny it, I’m not like that… no… , but he hated and trunked each word as it came out of his mouth, gasping. There were easy replies, but untrue, untrue.

“Are these fucked up tests that everybody is failing? Or is it just soothing, setting yourself for certain failure? Time and time again.”

“Pushing anyone that dares to point this. Am I the next?”

Jin yelled, his mouth shaking with unspoken words and insults until Jimin swapped from turning his head to nodding.

“I do feel like the next ditched one.”

“Is that what follows?”

No please don't.

I don't really want it .

“I know,” Jimin admitted.

“Know what? ” Jin observed with scared eyes, like expecting a blow.

He was indeed scared. It was him, the issue.

“I do all that,” Jimin accepted, with his mouth twisting.

If it was a win getting him to say it outloud, it didn’t bring Jin any joy.  His face fell harder, eyes bleeding empathy.

His nervous outburst draining him.

“Why?”

His voice trembled.

“Why, Jimin?”

He hunched his shoulders, incapable of speaking. Jin moaned, and slashed:

“Who hurt you? Was it Tae? And that’s why you are so freaking scared?”

Jimin crossed eyes with Jin, as surprised as disgusted.

That the idea even crossed Jin’s mind…

“No. He didn’t. He never…”

“Then why ? Why , Jimin?” Each why came out more desperate, acute. Jin’s shoulders caved in. “Tell me why you insist on punishing yourself? What can I do to make it stop? Cause I’m just a cook, and this is the best I could think of…”

Jin’s hands opened, they were messy and wet. The table between them, stained with spilled broth. “Fucking instant cups .” Jin bit his lips as he raised his head, munching words, looking at the sky.

He was blinking to not cry.

“I don’t know how to help you.”

He teared up.

And his desperation reached Jimin.

The veil, through which Jimin felt each previous order from Jin as bossiness and cruelty, then the scary screams and the inquisitive attack, pierced. He saw the compromise: he recognized a desperate attempt to reach. To comfort. Jin had been struggling to make him move, to eat, to talk. Get nothing out of him, but defeat.

And that wasn’t like Jin, he wasn’t satisfied with scraps, he always aimed to make people laugh, shine. He was his goofy hyung, a menace, a force. And he failed.

He snapped, once cornered. Insulted.

Losing against Jimin’s finest companion, his misery.

“I’m scared too, of what you can do,” Jin whispered, turning aside. Hiding his face.

And Jimin stood, and hugged him.

Anchored him.

Head buried in Jin’s chest, and arms looped around his frame.

Because he didn't have an answer to his questions, not yet. But he could show that they landed. That he was here, with him, against his despair (which was already a win). And that he didn’t want Jin to leave, not really.

“Sorry. I didn't mean it. I'm not letting you go.”

Jin was mad, heaving. It felt awkward for a bit: he wasn’t the most tactile. But he sighed, and gave in. Crushed Jimin with his arms, dirty hands hovering over Jimin's clothes. Until the hug lasted too much to keep that control. His soft hands also gripped Jimin. warm breath against his hair.

“Stupid Mimi. No one is leaving. You hear me?”

Jimin nodded. Then found his voice.

“I don't want to lose anyone.”

“You won't. You haven't.”

“But you can't keep doing this…”

Jin eventually disembraced himself, looking guilty. He still had questions, harsh words buried. But he reserved them for later, closer to the river. After their breathing came normal again, and both had time to digest some thoughts.

Throwing stones.

Silence reigned again, but now comfortable.

Moonlight shining in silver lines over the dark surface of the river. That got disturbed every now and there, but still resurfaced, each time.

Jin finally asked.

“What is it, Mimi?”

And Jimin didn’t say anything new. But maybe he said it easy enough for his friend, that he also understood. The turmoil solidified in something dark, but clear. Like the river itself at night.

“I don’t feel worthy.” Yeah, that was it. Plain and simple. “I never have,” Jin hummed, understanding, “and now less than ever because I… I did much that I regret. So what chance do I really deserve? I earned nothing.” And he never, never, got anything for free, without fighting… “And I know, that I will fuck up once again, eventually, because we all do. I'm still too young and stupid for what I feel, is larger than me.” The throwing of stones rushed, one after the other, until there were no more reserves in Jimin's left hands. Only closed fists, and rocks falling. “And I know the cost of fumbling Tae, fumbling actual love, and it scares me all the most.”

“But love is worth trying, if anything.” Jin stopped him.

He slipped a new, smooth rock between his clenched fingers, working them open. Then he moved his hand to Jimin's shoulder, bonny and soft. “Good things are worth a fuck up and two.”

Jimin heaved.

“And you are too.”

Jin patted Jimin's shoulder, as air pierced through Jimin’s chest.

He brought the rock over his heart, inspecting it as the most interesting rock.

“I've seen it all. I'm certain.”

“Did you?”

“You were never subtle. And I'm not as stupid as I seem.”

“And you aren't half as bad as you believe. Taking your moodiness is a cheap bargain against all your virtues, Mimi. And that ass.”

“You think so?” Jimin's voice cracked. Laughing.

“Yeah, I think so…”

A little pause, gentle.

“What about three or four fuck ups? Seven are it still acceptable? We should weigh those too.”

Jimin’s attempt to crack a joke wasn’t welcomed. Jin cussed, annoyed, shaking him from his nape. Which after all was a little funny again. Theatrical. Exaggerated.

“Seven times seven… Don’t ask me more stupid questions or I will call Tae to respond directly to you.” Pointy finger to his face. “I’m done with this show. Will you give it a go?”

Jimin was caught by surprise by his own answer.

“Yeah...” He mumbled.

“Fucking yeah!” Jin sighed, relieved.

Jimin grabbed Jin's waist, still shocked. Because he hadn't the power to push, and deny love, he really didn't; he knew he would fold into Tae. That was a thousand times easier than tearing his heart and disappointing everybody, a one night taste of that was enough. But he didn't feel ready to take him in. Not yet. The conflict was shaking him. And Jin grounding him.

“Eventually,” Jimin tried, to take off some weight of the overwhelming and scary thing he agreed to. “I will work on it.”

Jump again. Freefall.

Act for that kid he once was.

Jin didn’t dignify his reserves. Just scraped Jimin’s nape. Soothing.

“That 's fine. I take your word, just... Don’t let Tae wait too long, though. You aren’t the only one that feels not good enough. And it ain’t pretty.”

“I know.” Jimin conceded, falling short of air.

His hyung looped and arm over his shoulders, while looking closer.

A chocolate gaze warming him.

“A piece of advice, then.” Here returned the authority: Jin’s last resource. Jimin braced himself. “Don’t wait until you have improved yourself, to allow you what you want, to try. The trick is… You don’t actually need to change, to deserve better. You only need to believe that you do. And want it, allow it.”

“And if this foreign idea of deserving doesn’t come to you naturally, fake it, fake it until you make it. Fuck it until the day where you finally see; no mater what you lack, or what you could improve, that you were always worthy. Cause you are, and always will be.”

And the concept wasn't that hard, only a radical approach typical of Jin. But easy. Easy enough that Jimin had to accept it.

***

Jimin went to the sea the next morning. Jin dropped him in the bus station after a ravenous brunch and proper hugs, a little mystified by Jimin's choice, but approving of the motion, the drive. He was going to Gangneung.

It wasn't the prettiest beach.

It wasn't the closest one.

It was still winter and windy.

In full honesty, there were more convenient options. But little known Jin, that Jimin had eloped  there once under the promise of the best tteok-bokki shop, and a wish of skipping classes.

A desire to misbehave.

Do you wanna do something stupid with me?

It didn't meet the usual expectations, but still it counted as one of the best trips of his life. He needed a little of that optimistic view now. Times where he didn’t think through his every move.

He took the long way, as before. A bus. Almost three hours.

Sent a picture to the chat group of his parting, as Jin’s request. He received a set of diverse reactions and emojis. Between them, silence from Tae.

It made sense. He himself would have to reach him eventually, personally.

Not now. Not yet.

He had the trip first. And homework from his hyungs, because of course that Yoongi called, and Hobi. And everyone scolded him and Jin teased him relentlessly all through his cooking in the morning while he prepared a king’s feast, a meal appropriate to his skills.

He had work to do,  memories to revisit, and rewrite, to be gentler with himself, to forgive. When Yoongi talked him into opening about mistakes, there were still many things he didn’t say. They weren’t necessarily a secret. But still, it was a long way to recognize them.

Like his independent nature, turning into an asphyxiating rope.

Jimin saw the landscape blend to colors and then simple stains as he checked his reflection morph over them.

He was still the boy that thought that living alone at fifteen was an easy peasy. Like the double shifts: school then dancing academy. He couldn’t afford doubts and tantrums because of the enormous cost his dream had on his parents. He didn’t indulge easily into comfort. A decade later, his flat still lacked something. That purpose of giving solace, of being welcoming.

I don’t have the time , he used to say. It’s temporary.

People were also temporary. After Tae, he didn’t have the will to pursue anything romantic for a good time. Yet a part of him still yearned for hugs, recognition. So he fished for them, as if he didn’t really want them. He gave himself with conditions and scrapped some tenderness in return. Good enough , he thought.

It may have been enough, had he never met differently. But he had once. He found a home of his own on a person once, and did his best to forget it when it risked disappearing, because… he managed years without it in his hometown. He thought he could manage once again. It would be just fine, once he recovered his inner strength.

He lived years as a fool.

I don’t need this.

Friendships are better. Dancing is my love. This art of recognition is enough.

Friendships were good... he met Yoongi, Hobi, Jungkook. It wasn’t all mistakes. He did reach his old dream. Then it even changed, growed. They were always newer hills to reach. Parties to attend. It didn’t matter being tired. He had enough on himself to keep going.

Didn’t he?

That was when Donghyun came to the story. In full honesty, he didn’t tickle all his boxes at the beginning,  and they weren’t that much alike. But he was better than the average fool that settled his eyes on him, a good guy, an improvement, even Yoongi conceded. And Jimin was a little weary of dating fools, and he had just changed companies, following a new wimp, a new challenge… and this guy heard him in the process, even when he didn’t understand him. And they had good chemistry, an important thing. Was sometimes a little boring, yes, but a nice guy. They could have lasted.

Hadn’t Tae reappeared.

Freaking Tae. A punch on his stomach had hurted less than knowing that he was in Seoul again. That they were one good friend apart, a couple streets aside.

Donghyun got insecure from the start, Soowon wasn’t the first, oh no. Jimin never admitted, but he knew that his reactions weren’t appropriate. But at the start it was easier to deny his boyfriend‘s doubts because Jimin was still mad at Tae. Deny it all. He wasn’t lying. And he did love Donghyun. They had a nice, peaceful relationship. Peace was also important.

It wasn’t like the fire that settled on him whenever he saw Tae with someone else. He never admitted to it, but he got jealous. A part of his brain still claimed Tae as something of his property.

He rooted at Jungkook’s recaps of their party nights together. The ever increasing heart count in Tae's instagram.

But it wasn’t appropriate, so he buried the dislike.

And if Tae looked at him in the occasional common outing, checking on him, when someone else, girl or boy, looped his arms over him, that was not his business.

Tae the playboy. Only one thing, he had hated most.

Couldn’t he recall jealousy right there? It would have been easier. He called it injustice, because Tae hadn’t been as free with him as he was now. They were teenagers, they weren’t even out.

Unfinished business , he called it. I need to bury the axe , he said to Donghyun after the fifth encounter where he and Tae crossed (a dinner, where he purposefully attended late to avoid interacting with the guy, but Tae had nonetheless saved him a portion of his favourite dish, like it was nothing, completely casual that he still remembered it)... and Donghyun allowed the meeting, because overall, he was a nice guy, and he trusted his boyfriend.

And it lifted a giant weight from his soul, forgiving Tae.

And for months later, Jimin was the happiest person in the world. He had a stable relationship. Great friends. Amazing Job. And Tae.

Because they had been friends before lovers, and the friend part was acceptable.

And it filled him.

It was beautiful. Still home. Natural.

To hug as a hello, faces buried in each other’s neck. To continuously chat during the day, stealing smiles with every beep. To stand centimeters apart, in every place, as if sharing their personal space was perfectly fine.

Of course Donghyun doubted it. He was right to doubt it. But he didn’t make jealousy scenes. He tried the acceptable thing: work on his bond with Jimin, their relationship now pushing a year now, as if it was a millenium. Revive romanticism. Flowers, gifts, matching clothes and public affection.

And Tae looked with his unreadable face, and Jimin went further. Curious.

He suspected it was painful for him.

There were distinctive gleams in Tae’s eyes that still shined some hidden meanings to Jimin.

But Tae behaved. He played the part. And they were genuine friends, because they always knew how to care for each other, and they shared so many things and views, it was only natural.

Donghyun was worried about this but then Tae appeared with the same girl a couple of times. He was kind of a playboy, always sexy and unattainable to anyone but Jimin, but she stuck to him. 

Ji-eun, his nightmare, Ji-eun.

He hated her, she was lovely, and he hated her.

A gorgeous girl. And she had his own set of common interests with Tae, like Jazz and fashion.

They looked good together.

Something shifted in Jimin as she got a title, girlfriend, and Donghyun noticed. He confronted him, and Jimin denied it to the end, his speciality this far. But Donghyun wasn’t a fool.

When he came clean to Jimin, months later, he was honest: “I’m seeing someone else. I didn’t look for it at  first, but he gets me, and I think we fit. I think you will understand.” It hurt because there was a tender affection between them, definitely a type of love, and this was cheating, but it hurt more because he was right. They both deserved more.

If only he could have seen it as calmly as now.

The bus hit the brakes for a stop, and it took Jimin out of his self-absorption. More than two hours have passed. The flavor of the air already shifted. There was salt on it, already. The scent excited him.

In his same row, at the other side of the asylum sat a grandma. She offered him a tangerine, happy to meet someone. When Jimin got closer to take it, he saw in the seat in front of her a teenage couple, sleeping against each other.

Jimin had flashes of pinkies brassing and shared headphones.

He inhaled.

It wasn't that hard.

He accepted the tangerine and smiled. The smile came naturally, the first in three days.

He felt calmer. Jin’s intervention worked. Some forced vacations and a full night of sleep and proper food (surprise!l were working. And revisiting the last years: accepting that yeah, maybe he had also loved Tae for a long, long time, if he ever stopped, and that it wasn’t outrageous because they had mapped each other, time and time again, and they had the certainty and it was visible (to anyone willing to see) that they clicked, fit together. It calmed him.

He should have accepted it sooner.

There was the matter, yes, of him feeling chronically not worth it. But overlooking that constant in his life, that affected many relationships, and the creeping desire to be perfect, to compensate for it… Then the idea of being liked. No. More: loved, by someone, for such a long time and through all the restrictions and shortcomings.

Maybe he wasn’t that bad.

Only maybe.

***

Being calmer didn’t equal being well. Jimin’s emotions still were all over the place, delicate like scalded skin, rushing through him. But when you weren’t judgmental of them, they weren’t that taxing on you either. And the sunny day helped, and the sound of the waves crushing, and the pure wind filling Jimin’s lungs with fresh air.

He loved the sea. He loved this place.

A vast extension of white sand and calm waves. A line of trees and a park in the back. Almost no people were at sight.  It was winter, after all. Only the occasional passenger turning around the bus stop, waiting. Commuting from one corner of the city. Jimin was not one of those.

He stumped towards the water, sinking his sneakers into the sand.

Sliding his palm against the sea foam.

Spotting sea shells.

Jimin had forgotten the sea shell. He had kept one, a token of sorts. It laid still on his hidden box, on his wardrobe. A perfectly white shell, immaculate. Showing it had been his excuse to grab Tae’s hands, for the first time with intent.

He had gone for it, impatient, eager. What was the purpose of that trip, if not making the leap? Tae didn’t even like spice, yet they traveled hours for a spicy dish, nervous as hell. They were that obvious.

Jimin sat on the sand, remembering the two kids.

That Jimin in a marine suit had no idea of what he was doing, but somehow seemed wiser.

***

I’m fancing some tteok-bokki

That was his clue.

I know a place.

The answer.

***

On a normal pace, reaching Gangneung from his neighborhood should take more than two and half hours, on good traffic.

Tae made it in less than two.

It was a blur, he hadn’t slept at all the previous night, his foot weighted heavily in the accelerator and probably he made one or two risky maneuvers to surpass other cars on the way there, but he didn’t register much because he was scared.

Jimin said he was fine. On a text, around midday. Also Jin, around five a.m. or so, previously.

But he couldn’t believe it.

Because Jimin had lied to him before? How could he simply trust without seeing him?

Seeing him was actually enough?

His head was a mess.

Jungkook stayed with him, or most accurately, imposed his presence on Tae; but the kid wasn’t great help, because he was also ridden by guilt, for the things his big mouth said, and how he failed to keep Jimin company. Which fine, played a part, but Tae was certain that the great fallout was all his fault, his big ass mistake, and the battering with Jungkook all night over the guilty party they each had didn’t change a single quote of his beliefs.

Entered Namjoon, chastised them both. Failed to make Tae eat.

Then the beach announcement was made.

Jimin was leaving. Panic.

Where? Wait a minute.

Of all the places…

He had to explain to his two virgo pals why he had a mental breakdown over Gangneung. And they presented a case about how this day trip wasn’t necessarily bad, probably, not at all, and therefore managed to make him drown one chamomile tea and two cookies.

And then miraculously, Jimin wrote to him.

Something… promising.

And hadn’t it happened, hadn’t he teletransported to the beach, parked poorly and run to the coast, probably his last drop of sanity would have got lost waiting. Each second he won rendered crucial in keeping him tethered together.

He got the whole trip to decide, how was he gonna do this, what was he gonna say, how could he stop Jimin from slipping through his fingers.

It all went off of his head as soon as he set foot on the beach.

The bus stop, the beach, where they kissed for the first time.

It was all the same.

The last time he had been there was around ten years ago, but he still remembered it perfectly, and the memories assaulted him. The way his heart stopped when Jimin closed in. How he shivered, head to toe, through their first kiss. How utterly happy he had been. And scared. And flying.

The same feelings nested on his chest, on his lungs, robbing him of air. The pure sea wind.

Tae reached the bus stop, a tinder roof, a glass wall and a bench, set with its back against the sea. More glimpses struck him.

Their shared look before.

Jimin’s chubby cheeks, and dark hair. He was so young, so carelessly and devastatingly beautiful...

The way they laughed while waiting to return home, with their hands clasped.

Hours and hours of travel for that simple photocard together, a couple of hours stolen for them. Just for them.

This memory.

Behind the glass wall of the stop, Tae found a distant silhouette standing by the shore. The sun was rushing down behind him, marking his frame dark in the distance. But Tae recognized its posture, his every step, the wind messing with his golden hair like he would like to.

He stalled and simply observed, for a couple of minutes. Hand gripping the bus sign like a lifeline. Then he gulped saliva and marched closer with heavy feet, his heart on his throat. He was in shambles and there was nothing he could do about it, but offer them.

***

Jimin heard him first, his steps. Turned, unprepared, and then his heart dropped to the floor.

He stood up, eyes fixed on Tae’s shabby appearance. He walked towards him, as if he was already trading water, not sand. Foot uncertain. There were dark moons under his brown eyes, making them appear clouded, obscure. His hands clenching and opening in spams. He was using Jungkook’s jacket, below that, old clothes. The ones he usually kept strictly at home.

Jimin rushed to him when for a split second he was sure Tae was going to fall, square on the sand, defeated, sick.

But as he leaped closer, Tae stopped, straight and alarmed.

They both stopped, a meter apart.

Jimin’s heart complained.

Tae’s face was an open apology. The clouds on his back, already dark, matching the pain.

“I'm sorry for pushing you yesterday,” he rushed.

His throat was clenched, voice sounding weak and funny, disappearing against the wind.

Jimin advanced, nodding, and cupped Tae's face, his soft words.

Electricity buzzing from his skin, his stance. Each point where they touched and not.

Jimin bit his lips, battered enough with just the feeling of Tae struggling. He eased the lines of Tae’s frown, and pulled his pressed down mouth to the sides and up. He focused on his lips until finding the courage to look him on the eye.

And found him beautiful, frightened and hopeful, in all the most devastating ways. 

“No more sorrys, please,” Jimin hugged his boy, the way he once learned from him.

Hand on his nape, drawing the other’s head over his shoulder. Heart against heart. Tight arms. Tae choked air against his ear, caving in, and Jimin squeezed harder. Fingerprints sunk on his jacket, making noise over the already loud drumming of the waves. Of their hearts.

He thought of this borrowed style of hug he copied from Tae a life ago, and for a split second understood, how all our loving gestures came from someone, how they are learnt.

Most of his knowledge of love came from Tae.

But not only from him. Right there he understood his hyung yesterday, now that he felt that desperate urge for Tae to eat, to sleep, to look like a night of full rest. He also appreciated Jungkook, who probably battled him to use a jacket while he rushed out. Yoongi and Hobi always patiently waiting, covering him, making space for him. Nam, insidious and nagging, but honest and wise.

Everyone wanting of him simply a genuine smile.

Jimin offered that to Tae. He put an arm length between them and flashed his teeth. Giggling, knowing how stupid and moody he was sometimes.

“How are you?”

Tae took a step back, deeply confused and dizzy, but his hands lingered over Jimin.

“Better?”

His mouth quivered but still didn’t reach a smile.

“We can work with that,” Jimin grabbed his hand and pulled towards the road, a nearby shop. “Let’s eat something, for starters.”

***

“I’m not following you.”

Tae knew that Jimin could say a thing, and act opposite. That he could swap from happy to tears on a wimp. Still this was extreme: from yelling and heartbreak to hands clasped in front of a sunset on the beach, there was a stretch.

He wasn’t complaining though, just pointing out facts.

“I know.” Jimin accepted, stabbing a rice cake, grinding it on the cheese sauce, and offering it to Tae. He bit it, and his belly roared publicly.

They were sitting on a blanket, facing the sunset. A plastic tray with tteok-bokkis between them two.

He wouldn’t dare to call it romantic, not yet. Not with the loaded silence between them. But their hands were still firmly tied together, Jimin never let go even when they ventured into the food stall full of people, and whatever emotion battled him, whatever dark thought, it wouldn’t win as long as Jimin’s hand stayed over his.

It was his cable.

“We will talk, once you are finished. But first, please eat. Or your stomach won’t let us talk.”

Tae chuckled and Jimin beamed.

The sun kept falling.

Once the dish was finished and disposed of, there were no more excuses.

Jimin stalled, nervous, and Tae did the one thing he dared to, to put something on track.

He pulled from their joined hands, and kissed Jimin’s knuckles. A harsh part of him.

Jimin melted at the gesture, a train of emotions crossing his face. Eventually, he sighed, and let his side fall against Tae, sitting closer. Arm against arm. Head on his shoulder. “Listen well,” he muttered.

***

“I have been battling myself for a while now. And I have been quite chaotic, I’m aware. And that’s not on you.” Tae opened his mouth ready to protest, and Jimin hushed him, feeling his chest puff out. “Not entirely, at least.” He conceded.

“We both made mistakes, but probably the most stubborn was me. You told me you loved me yesterday. And as much I denied it, I do believe you. Really.”

Tae breathed, relieved.

“But,” anything you said before a but was pointless, Jimin felt Tae deflate “to make my point, since when are you certain? Because we had to bond up again, from strangers. It was no accident, falling in love again.”

Jimin had a point to make, so Tae didn’t perch all on his back. His nasty habit that broke them once.

***

Sadly, Tae was slow to realize.

He had loved Jimin for a long, long time. But he had also had a but! He put an I can’t above his feelings because Jimin was with someone else when they crossed again. And he thought that his mind could overrule his heart. He was good, ignoring things, enduring. But it was pointless. His stoic nature playing him.

He was only certain when Ji-eun cornered him. When guilt and confusion overrode him.

Jimin may look chaotic now, but he himself had been double the mess when confronted with his own feelings and mistakes, after Jimin’s birthday. No wonder they distanced. They both retreated in self loath, except for one night.

“Your last opening, then I knew,” he said.

When Ji-eun said, if you go, it’s over.

***

Jimin was right.

Around three weekends after his birthday. After one disastrous conversation that clarified nothing and pushed him into bars, Tae still showed up in his last premiere. And Donghyun wasn’t there, which was definitive. And Soowon wasn’t there either, which could have been a good start. But Tae was there, and Jimin knew what it meant.

“When I ended it with Ji-eun.”

Jimin opened his eyes, wide.

“I always thought she broke up with you,” b ecause of me , went unsaid.

“No. I did, because I finally realized that it was you. It would always be you, for me. I have loved you since the day I met you.”

Oh God.

Tae spoke with utmost naturality. The truth. He was only sincere.

Only that Jimin's heart exploded.

***

Jimin let go of him, winning space, standing on his hands, turning apart. 

He let go of Tae’s hand. The one connection that survived the entire talk. And Tae froze in place, alarmed: He shouldn’t have said that. He shouldn’t push, if Jimin wasn’t ready…

“I love you too,” Jimin rushed, stopping Tae’s gears on the spot, immediately.

And Tae stared in awe, in disbelief.

The banishing sun painted Jimin’s features red and smooth, like a painting. He sobbed and chuckled under the warm light, and before Tae knew better, he pressed a peck on Tae’s lips. With vibrant fear and desire, raw emotions taking over him.

“It was always you, for me as well.”

His full lips pressed the words, imbuing them on his soul.

“And I was a kid, I couldn't handle it. So I pushed you.”

Tae swooned, and grabbed him before Jimin could disappear, the dream ending.

This had to be a dream.

Tae kissed him back, pulled Jimin towards his lap. The roar of the sea was dulled by Jimin’s surprised gasps. If this was a dream, a fabrication of his tired brain, he would make the most of it.

Jimin sinked over him, as the sand under them gave way under his knees. Tae buried his hands on his waist, and didn’t apologize when the cold fingers made Jimin flinch. He was too busy owning his mouth, owning him. Jimin’s hands were on him, and without other support than his sprayed legs, he was falling into Tae. His core melting.

Tae chased and kissed his mouth, eyebrows pressed down, until hearing sobs. And tasting salt on his tongue.

Jimin pulled away.

“And It 's my fault. I knew it way before you. And I am the greatest foul because I rebelled against it. Because I was scared. Because I didn’t want love and complicated . But no one ever made me feel like you do.”

Tae found no space to talk, to calm him down. Jimin parroted word after word. A fixed idea on his mind. “And you were stubbornly there, always looking for me, because you were clueless, but you wanted me. I knew. I always saw how you looked at me. And I wanted you too, but I had to gaslight me and everyone into believing it couldn’t be.”

“Jimin, Jimin.”

Tae clutched one of his hands and used it as leverage. Hugged it, caressed it.

Jimin hiccuped and swallowed air, to calm down, to stop. Tae made him look at him, and drove the hand to his mouth. Kissed the knuckles, the palm and wrist, all over again.

“It’s okay. It ’s over.”

“I’m not done.”

“Please don’t cry. Don’t be sad. It 's fine.” Tae hugged him with one arm, hand to his neck, thumb stroking up and down. Jimin curled against the caress.

“I’m not sad,” Jimin fighted. “Only… emotional.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Of course you know it all, thick head.”

“Only that you love me,” Tae corrected, and looked at him, smiling, “and that’s enough.”

Jimin couldn’t reply, a bundle in his throat.

So he resumed the kissing.

They both were good and comfortable with that. And it escalated until Tae’s head met the floor, sand getting in his curls. 

Until Jimin’s tongue and teeth greeted Tae’s collarbone.

Until a wave crashed against them, and returned them to a reality with a dark sky, icing ground, and feverish skin. Tae burst in laughter after Jimin whined like a banshee.

“Lets’ get out of here,” he nibbled at Jimin’s ear, also trembling.

***

They stumbled into the hotel room, the closest they could find driving around. Stumbled and undressed fast, with frozen limbs, rushing under hot water; where they fought like kids to monopolize the shower, the searing rain, only to forget it later pressing each other against a wall, struggling to not slip in the tube.

They didn’t go all the way there, but got off, and kissed each other wildly until getting their mouths numb and swollen. Then, warm and dozed, did wash themselves well and campaigned against the sand in their hair.

“Remember me to never again follow you to the beach, in winter,” joked Tae.

“I thought you would follow me everywhere,” Jimin pouted, teasing him sprayed over his chest.

Both were lying in a king bed, naked and relaxed. It was a simple suit, nothing fancy or memorable, the last thing available. Not that they needed much. They were enough.

“I would. Let me rephrase it… let me talk you out of it, in colder seasons. Offer something better. Your spa day, live music, or a place with a fire.”

“A jacuzzi would be fine. I like the sound of the water crashing, also licking you dry.”

Jimin illustrated his point over his belly and Tae felt his arousal come back.

With a smirk he pulled Jimin's hair gently, to prevent him from going down.

“A jacuzzi then.”

“Like our first anniversary, actually, I would like that to be our thing. Going somewhere nice, with a proper jacuzzi and a view, on special dates.”

Tae laughed. “I didn’t get it at sixteen, and I still don’t do it now, but whatever makes you happy, love.”

Jimin smiled, pleased, but still retorted. “I wanted to make it special, and saved months for that hotel. Show more respect.”

“It was. I appreciated it very much.” Tae pulled Jimin to his level, to kiss him softly on the lips. “But it wasn’t the biggest flex since you already lived alone.”

“Well, forgive me for my poor imagination.”

“Shut up. You had quite outrageous ideas, and I bet you have more in that head of yours.”

“A couple…” Jimin grinned, and moved to the side, putting the weight of his upper body over an elbow, to play with Tae’s hair. Who hummed pleased, lax.

Jimin smiled wholeheartedly watching Tae go soft under his care. Eyes closed, moving erratically under his eyelids.

“Don’t fall asleep,” Jimin whispered.

Rich words knowing well that Tae was using his last reserves.

“I won’t… I’m just, remembering. Our first anniversary.”

“What about it?”

Tae opened his eyes, looking for him.

“That was the first time that you told me you loved me,” he said, solemnly, and saw Jimin’s expression slowly change, from calmness, to surprise, to a muted melancholy. “I didn’t say it back, right away. I barely ever said it, back then. I didn’t believe in love, at our age. At all. My parents’s divorce had turned me into a skeptic... But I did love you, and you deserved to hear it more.”

Jimin patted his head, softly, styling his hair.

He forced a smile.

“It showed in all you did for me, those days,”

“Yet you needed to hear it. And you should. Maybe things would have been different if I had reassured you. You know… Each time you talked about not wanting to burden me, not fuck our relationship these last days, I felt you, because that’s how I always felt. Inadequate. Dry. Slow. You were the force, not me.”

“What? No…” Jimin cupped Tae’s head in his direction, and Tae sat, Jimin as well, his expression haunted.

“You were my home, Tae.” Jimin said, and Tae felt the bed stagger, his body in freefall. “When I had no one, you stepped up, being a child, and helped me be one as well. You not only fed me, kept me in check, and made me feel better when I was bone tired. You made me feel whole, maybe for the single time in my life. You don’t realize how important you were, don’t you? 

“I never knew how many things I lacked, until you gave them to me for free.” Jimin's voice cracked and Tae laughed, feeling his eyes getting wet.

His own voice came out unrecognizable, weak.

“I was the one bone tired. I hated everything but you. Life was… chaos. But you made each day better. Somehow, each time you were with me, you picked up my broken pieces and made me smile, made me happy. You inspired me to keep up. I want to be that to you. If that isn't love, I don't know what it is. So please… don’t act strong when I’m a fool, or I don’t notice you struggling. Come to me.”

Jimin pressed his lips white. Tae bet his ass that he wanted to refute him, but he couldn’t. He was in a bad strike this last time, and that was okay.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty. Only to give you perspective. Don’t punish you for relying on me. I’m actually glad to have the chance to show up for you. I owe you.”

“Alright,” Jimin scooped closer, and grabbed him from his nape to kiss him, once, on the lips. “Okay, alright. I owe you as much, but who's counting? Just promise me this, okay?” He kissed him again, deeper this time. Tae followed him back, standing over one of his hands. There was the faint taste of salt again. Tears.

He wasn’t sure from whom they came. Probably both.

“Promise me that you will hold onto me, and be my net. And next time, I will be yours, and it doesn’t matter if we don’t agree on who is making the work, as long as we are both there, together. Correct?”

“Correct. I promise.”

“And never believe you weren’t enough. The sole reason I dreaded giving us a chance, was that you were, you are , my all. And I can't handle the idea of losing you ever again."

“You won't. As long as I'm breathing.”

“You promise?”

Jimin laid a hand over Tae's chest, feeling his heartbeat. Which was only appropriate. It could respond as well in its own way, to whom it belonged.

“Babe, you are under my skin,” Tae swore. Then tilted Jimin's head, slowly, and kissed his neck making Jimin swoon. From there he trailed his jaw, just with lips, a caress. Then his cheeks, many times, erasing the salt of his runaway tears. He slowed down his way to Jimin's mouth moving less and less in each stride. And stopping to look at him, melted under his caresses, following his touch in complete surrender. “I promise. I ain't let you go.”

Jimin stared at him with hunger. His eyes shoot black and his mouth hanging.

He searched for Tae's hand, and directed it towards his own chest.

A heart beating on a frenzy underneath.

“You are also here, under my skin. Always. I never could get rid of you,” Jimin’s nose brushed his own.

“And you won't,” promised Tae, charging in.

He closed the distance to Jimin's plump lips with force, and Jimin returned the pressure with fervor. Taking, biting and brushing. Bodies colliding uncertain of which direction to follow. 

Jimin’s fingers moved tracing his ribs, short nails going up and down his crevices. Then turning to the spine on his back, marking him as they turned, mapping his bones.

If his bones were walls, the skeleton of a temple, it was absolutely empty now, waiting for his deity.

Purposely waiting.

Tae offered each piece of him that Jimin found with his touch as a gift on an altar.

“I'm yours.” His truth.

The entire truth.

“You are mine,” Jimin repeated, over and over, as waves of pleasure curled his body, crossed his face, and echoed in Tae. “Mine. All mine.”

Until Tae’s answer was:

“Wanna fuck me?”

***

Jimin stilled, as his dick throbbed.

Tae held his breath, head hitting a pillow, as Jimin hovered over him, running his eyes all over him.

“How often have you…?”

“Nothing in ages.”

Jimin’s fingertips, until now buried in Tae's flesh, eased. A trembling millimeter above to give space to the electricity in between. Tae's body quivered.

He already looked stiff. Reactive. Hyper aware.

Jimin sat on his ankles, one leg at each side of Tae's legs. He bent down and let go of a charged sigh. Hot breath hitting Tae's skin, his neck, before Jimin's lips. Won another shudder from him even before being touched.

Tae as a bottom was a sight.

“Turn around,” Jimin hushed against his neck, with a dry kiss, a mere press of lips, subtle that made Tae recoil violently.

Jimin bit his lower lip, as Tae turned. His hand brushing his back with the pressure of silk. The muscles below, contracting in response.

Tae was always intense, undoubtedly present in sex. Someone that got off on his partner's pleasure. His body reacted eager and honest to each touch.

He loved giving. He was amazing at giving…

But.

Whenever the idea, the mere idea of opening, offer himself, hit his mind, it gave everything a new edge. Made him more sensitive, more desperate, vulnerable.

Almost seeming scared.

Nothing more far from that.

Jimin let his weight fall, sitting over the top of Tae's legs. His crotch pressing his ass.

Tae moaned out loud and buried his mouth on an arm, shoulders rising.

“Don't do that, wanna hear you,” Jimin sprayed himself, to pull Tae's arms to the side. His erection teasing closer and hotter against Tae's arse.

He moaned, a high pitch clashing against his natural lower tone, stupidly sexy. Eyes shut down, turning his face to the side, to Jimin's delight. His curls sprayed against the sheets.

“Just like that, honey.”

Jimin licked a strip of his nape, from his upper back to the raising of his hair. A hand gripping his hair as a singular touch (beyond his dick slotted down).

And Tae moaned louder this time, simply high, like asphyxiated. His body contorting.

It was seriously hard to touch him without him overreacting. Jimin loved it.

He used his hands to push him down again, with more force than necessary.

“You still like that.”

Jimin tried again, mouthing and nibbing now, and Tae whimpered, dry humping the sheets. Jimin had to push his body down to stay on top. One of their hands slotted: Jimin's palm closing over Tae's back.

“You are killing me,” said Jimin marching to Tae's hair, the shelf of his ear.

Tongue teasing and Tae reacting outside of his self control. Body jumping.

God, he was beautiful.

“What are you gonna do when I fuck you? You can barely take this,” Jimin mocked.

His hips thrusting Tae's flesh, and Tae pushing against him.

“I can,” Tae laughed. “ You won't last.”

“Wanna try me?” Jimin pulled him, letting Tae stand on his elbows. Head and curls hanging low. Jimin hugged his chest, and pulled from one nipple.

“Motherfucker,” Tae's head raised.

“Hug the board,” Jimin stated and Tae followed, standing on his knees.

A low moan rustled from his throat as the movement brought Jimin's penis against his perineum.

Even Jimin moaned, forehead against Tae's back. Head teasing back and forth.

“Lube.”

“I need lube.” Jimin stopped himself.

“Hurry up.”

He searched on the side tables, in a rush.

Tae stared with his chest inflated, taking all the air he could in his agitated state. Arms hugging the board for life's sake. Body weak.

He was gorgeous, breathtaking, an impossible.

He was too tired to make an effort, yet the way his spine curled talked about want and desire.

“A-ha!” Jimin triumphed, returning to the bed.

A shared look later he changed his plans.

He pushed Tae to make him fall on his back, in a fit of laughter and surprise. That died as fast as he kissed him again, both hands gripping Tae's hands, stretching his arms over his head in a power pull.

Tongue deep in Tae's open mouth.

Tae willingly keeping it open, tongue out, filthy and wet. Jimin drank of it, of Tae's each moan. And then went down.

“No, Jimin, no.”

Tae had no power to raise, no control of anything once Jimin's lips enveloped his dick on a fast stride. Sucking and drinking.

“Wait. No. Ah, Ah! Please stop…”

“Who said I wasn't gonna last?”

“Please.”

Jimin licked up, and Tae's treacherous body went up. Knees rising at the side of Jimin's head. He grabbed at one leg as an axis, pushing down, and with his free hand searched for a pillow and the lube.

They were upside down in the bed. It was a beautiful mess. Tae, poor soul, had no longer any notion of anything. Not from the pillow getting under him, the lube falling, nor his mighty shape crumbling in front of Jimin.

“I want you inside me,” he simply begged. A tear running through his right left cheek.

Jimin wanted to explode, inside him.

“Getting there, babe.”

Jimin licked his entrance, and Tae made a loud gasp. Then he stuck his tongue and put his mouth to work.

“Jimin. Fuck, Jimin .”

Tae's legs pressed Jimin's head, and he pushed them open. Wide. Then with a laboured breath kept at it. Devouring Tae's shame. Seeing him leak.

“I…” Tae's hand found Jimin's head. Gripped from his hair, no control, no gentleness.

“ Fuck, fuck, fuck .”

Jimin rose up, and sucked at Tae’s hand, followed it over Tae's torso, exchanging his filthy mouth with fingers down there as he crawled up.

Tae turned to his side, blind, crossing his legs, but Jimin kept working his entrance hand in between, as he laid face to face, also on his side; Tae curled against him.

“You are amazing. Hang in there. Wait for me.” Jimin peppered his forehead with kisses. Tae was crying, overstimulated.

He was soo, not used to this.

It was delightful.

Jimin's own excitement was a white pain.

“Here, kiss me.” Jimin coerced Tae into the sloppiest kiss as he slid a third finger on him, trying to distract him. Sucking screams out of him.

“Sh, babe, you are too loud!”

“Fuck of,” Tae laughed.

Jimin retrieved his hand, and Tae figured that much because his eyes opened a little.

He zoned on Jimin, with his pupils dark as night. Jimin's heart jumped. Against his want and desperation, he stayed quiet one instant, to look back.

I love you , he whispered, half aware of his words.

But Tae registered, and on a feat, he brushed their lips together.

I love you. I love you. He ushered back.

And stared, and marveled in Jimin realizing.

Breathing his words. Knowing.

Somewhere during their kiss, they slotted together. Side by side. Tae’s tremble gave him away. Jimin realized and fed on it. Each reaction, from subtle to deranged, inspired him to take, and win inch after inch, each sound, and lost himself at the same price.

Tae moaned completely unaware of what slipped from his mouth, and Jimin wasn’t better, taking, ravagging. All his sanity and control burned in one single act of looking up once during their frenzy to stop, and state, once again, for all the times that went unsaid: I love you. and I missed you. I’m not letting you go again.

And after that, there wasn't much to say.

***

When Jimin took his phone, way later, almost a new day, he found personal and group messages from Yoongi, Jin, Jungkook… everybody, asking him how he was. Was he okay? Jimin, Tae, please, are you alive? Give a fucking signal guys!

“Babe, do you mind?” He said, raising the phone over them.

Tae was drenched in sweat, napping over his chest. He opened one eye, and quickly shut it, shaking his head.

Jimin snapped a picture and sent it: thumbs up and a drooling, peaceful Tae.

What do you think?

Chapter Text

Around a week later***

“And thanks for being here for me. This is a lot, I do appreciate it, but” Yoongi transitioned from pointing at the tangerines deco surrounding him all over Hobi’s flat, and his ridiculous round shaped and vibrantly orange hat, to the people in front of him, “this was enough.”

“Aaaaw,” swooned Jimin. Jungkook clapped and whistled. “This was Hoba’s idea.” Added Namjoon, and the accused quickly pointed to Jin and Taehyung. “I had help.”

“ Of course , thanks Jinnie for the tangerine shaped cupcakes. And Tae, for the tangerines bouquet. Ingenious , really. Who would have ever thought?”

“Wait for the tangerine boxers,” added Taehyung, and Jimin jumped to shush him, a hand to his mouth, cackling.

Actually, all his body was stuck in an impossible middle between hanging and climbing from Tae.

“It was meant to be a surprise!” He shushed.

Yoongi crushed many emotions under his face, but surely some embarrassment made it out together with fondness in the shape of red cheeks and a pressed, upside down, barely contained smile.

Then Hobi perched at his shoulders, warm, loving energy manning from his grip, and Yoongi broke in a full grin and sparkling eyes.

“It's beautiful outside, we should all eat your bouquet in the sun, so you don't end up stuffed,” he invited.

Smiling, always smiling, his love.

“We should.” He pecked Hobi, tempted by the closeness.

And Jungkook rustled his throat.

“Tip,” he demanded, grabbing a glass full of coins.

“No. No. This is my home, and we aren't the problem,” Hobi defended himself, while hugging his man stronger than ever.

“It's my birthday,” Yoongi whined.

His body swayed in a direction, then the other, moved by Hobi.

“All right. All right. He has a point. Be my guest,” Tae took out a bill from his wallet, and buried it in Jungkook’s glass, under the surprised stare of the usual lot. “And keep the change,” he smirked, turning towards Jimin.

To kiss and breath him as the shorter circled his arms around his neck, smiling, happily welcoming him, bending backwards under his grip. A flashy kiss, with full embrace and yells around.

“Nah, nah, stop right there!” Jin cussed.

“Space for the lord!” Jungkook groped Tae, as he bit Jimin's lips, to stop his pure laugh.

“Joonie, in the middle, now!” Jin pushed him.

“Why me?” He protested.

Meanwhile Jungkook succeeded at splitting the octopus of arms, and hugged Jimin from the back for good measure, a meter away.

Namjoon did the proper thing, sticking his larger physique between Tae and Jimin. And Tae did rest his frame against his friend as well, after running his thumb over his lower lip, and sending a flying kiss to a watchful Jimin.

“They are gross,” Yoongi complained.

“No they are not,” Hobi beamed. “I like them… outside my bathroom, though!” His voice turned commanding.

Jimin pretended to be mortified. Tae was a lost cause, laughing at Namjoon's flinch against him.

“Why is it always me?”

“Maybe they are a little gross,” Hobi conceded.

“If I may continue…” Yoongi smiled, disembracing himself from Hobi only to look at him better, their hands still held together.

Then he looked at his friends. His heart racing.

“I insist. Thanks for this. Beyond my usual reluctance, to celebrate, this fills my heart, having you all here. And all these years: you are my joy.” His tone spiked. “And Hoba…” Silence. His voice faltered, but he found it again once Hobi’s abashed expression passed, giving place to the loveliest glance that centered Yoongi. “You are my light. I can't thank you enough. Just… I love you,” the confession escaped his mouth with his last breath.

Hobi also looked stricken and breathless, two seconds before erupting in giggles and glassy, shining eyes.

He hugged Yoongi, strong, almost shaking. His face hid against Yoongi's neck and hair. Sweet words against his ear, only for him.

I love you too.

And in the manheim of their group cheering, that the couple completely ignored, Tae and Jimin slipped their hands together again.

Tapping obvious words.

Around a month later***

“I will return the track,” said Namjoon.

“You overachiever! You complained all the way here about having to drive when you landed a class 1 license. Now you bail out of using your muscles when they are needed the most. Choose your poison, but choose only one, Kim Namjoon,” Jin baffled him. “I'm going with you. What if you panic at the next parking place again?”

“I will go too,” Yoongi tried.

“Nah, nah, nah. I said it first. You help upstairs.”

“I have a bad shoulder!”

“And I have bad joints and crooked fingers. I ain't doing that.”

Meanwhile, Jungkook endured the main weight of moving the boxes, and settling Jimin's washing machine in Tae's kitchen.

“This is exploitation," He complained as he pushed the white device into position. Forehead drenched. “You signed for this. You are getting my flat and things dirty cheap!” Jimin hissed at his side, catching his breath, as he maneuvered the counter.

From afar, Tae and Hobi’s discussion was interrupted time and time again by the scandal of a drill driver.

“Keep it straight! Can’t you?” Hobi’s voice raised over the noise. Cold as hell.

“It is straight!”

“Why did we let the two most perfectionist ones pierce the wall?” Kookie asked, scared, catching the screams.

Jimin, also scared, rationalized the situation: "because they will get the best results, even if we have to endure the process.”

Yoongi appeared with beers. He found a task worthy of him.

“Here,” he went through the house, offering.

“Oh thank good,” was the general response.

“There are bites in the fridge. I thought they passed better later, when this,” Tae circled his hand, pointing to the mess of boxes in his living room, “is less… This. But if anyone is hungry...”

“We can wait for Jin and Namjoon,” Hobi offered. As he beamed at Yoongi, who brought sprite for him.

Jimin rested against a wall, sipping his beer, looking around.

A funny feeling growing in his chest. Cutting his breath already short.

All his friends, sweating in plain march, to help him.

Tae, gorgeous, in a tank top, golden, sweaty skin on display. His. Only his. Life had been good so far.

There were piles of boxes all around the floor and table. A duplicity of small pretty things like lamps, candles and pillows, between which they still hadn’t decided. Arrays of wood piled against the walls, that will reassemble into bookcases and nooks later.

But behind the mess, there were already tweaks and changes. The fridge had a plastic sheet with his schedule for the week. His childhood blanket was sprayed over the green sofa. Over Tae's little balcony, a couple of mugs and a dish full of crumbs awaited since their rushed breakfast to be cleaned.

And the frames on the living room, the ones that Tae was constantly changing to suit the season, his humor, his temporary obsessions, now displayed a fixed exhibition.

The collection of polaroids, from their teenage years, that Jimin kept for years in a box.

And the tickets to every premiere from Jimin's company, which Tae kept as a promise.

Still going strong.

Jimin’s chest raised. Taking all in. Feeling light. Serene and grateful, but also skeptical. Like holding happiness in a bubble. Impossible. Magical and terrifying. Excitement rushing through his skin like electricity.

Tae interrupted his contemplation, stepping in front of him with an inquisitive smile, cornering him with his arms.

Jimin was already against a wall.

“Like what you see?” he paraded himself.

“Naaah.” Jimin joked, grimacing then smiling like a little kid that did something bad. “It's a complete disaster… I still don’t know how you convinced me.”

“Well…” Tae didn’t dignify his silly question. Just, kissed his check, tenderly, as many hands quickly rose at them, accusing.

Don't. Don't you dare.

The lips moved to his neck and Jimin twisted his head. Eyes closing.

“Oh, right… You asked me to trust you.” He nuzzled against his lover, and buried his fingers on his hair. His middle finger rising behind Tae's head to shut up the witnesses before pulling to kiss him. “Guess I will have to.”

Around a year later***

End of November, last grand shows of the year starting before the company halted for the holidays; Christmas season, the dry January, where the people reclined, traveled, and visited family.

It was an eventful time. Jimin was emotional, to put it plain. He was overworked. Tae was overworked.

It was high and lows, like a rollercoaster. Colliding schedules, Tae's birthday looming while he still hadn't time to prepare anything. Then bliss in the form of a night out. The claps of his pears, at the end of practices. A simple cuddle on bed, late, with candle lights.

He was stupidly happy. Jimin wouldn't lie, he was. He loved the rush. But it was wearing on him.

Likewise, the premier night.

So when everything went fine, more than fine, perfect, and the curtains raised, and  everybody was clapping his hands off, Yoongi, Nam, Jinnie in a pink suit, oh good. Jungkook, tearing, that soft boy, honestly.

Then Tae. Tae. Tae. With the proudest smile and his green suit.

Lord mercy.

Jimin was crying before the curtain rose. And sobbed harder before Hobi and his own round of applause. After recognizing the voices calling his name.

Happy tears. Don't get him wrong.

Yet, something chapped.

When he received a random bouquet, in the greetings, red roses.

Not his spirea one.

It was beautiful, big, but not the one. Too red, tacky.  And maybe he did stare in Tae direction, wondering. For a split second, he felt mad.

Had Tae been that busy? That oblivious to what it meant, for him?

Then he felt stupid, once alone in his changing room, checking the other bouquets, their cards. Then frustrated, he teared the red roses that who knew whom had gifted him. What the fuck?

This was his biggest problem, nowadays? Getting the wrong bouquet? He was a spoiled, ungrateful…

He was so fucking blessed! Jimin took a deep breath, changed, and went out to the hall, to his people. And the turmoil disappeared.

Hobi found him first, and latched at him, bubbly, happy and excited. Then he found Yoongi, and discarded Jimin in a blink.

“You are like this to me, you change me for this passing fling? A twink?”

“Shut up Chimmy.”

“Your man is behind you.”

The pair disregarded him.

And in effect, strong arms surrounded him, squeezing him. Foot briefly on the air. Kisses to his temple. Pouring love dazzling as drugs.

“You. Were. Wonderful. Oh my god. This was your best this far. No exaggerating. Love. I need your autograph, on my wall. Tattooed, on my forehead, now…”

Tae babbled nonsense as Jimin ate each compliment, them filling his cheeks and making him smile to a painful degree, skin stretching, as he went blind with happiness. Cackling.

He bounced on one foot, as Tae made him swing on a hug, tight like dancing.

He loved him. He really Loved Tae. It was overwhelming, in moments like this.

Then he noticed a red rose on his lapel, and he glitched.

What the fuck? 

The virgos and Jin joined the party. All became chaotic, for a good hour. With the troupe and old and new faces, critics, all making their apparition in the stairs of the theater. Then the group went to eat dinner, finally.

Jimin inhaled an entire pizza alone. Tae gifted him all his olives, a sweet gesture that earned him a sticky kiss on the check. And somewhere around the night, while moving to Tae's lap, Jimin ditched the red rose of his suit, quietly, because it was messing his mind.

The motion went under Tae's radar, but Jin and Nam catched how he crumbled the flower with his hand. Jin raised a brow, while Nam simply sighed.

To which Jimin smiled as if nothing happened.

And still, in the car, he asked.

“Aren't green and red a tad tacky? Or was it the Christmas spirit?”

He had been playing with Tae's hair, erasing the last traces of grease from his hair. A valiant attempt to tame his curls that Jimin didn't appreciate. And then when he straightened his tie, he remembered, hand on his lapel.

Tae was lost for a second, then he laughed.

“My boutonniere ? Where did it go?”

“Yeah, the boulebous , or whatever.”

“It's a classic.”

A weird silence followed.

“You didn’t like the roses, did you?”

“ What? No, absolutely… ” Jimin said, too high and suspicious. Damn . “I just, like them better white.” He pursed his lips.

Tae cackled. His boxy smile started to look annoying.

“You do know what red roses mean, right?”

Jimin rolled his eyes, retrieved his hands from him.

“Even I know that. I'm not stupid.”

“Never said that.”

“But you thought it. For sure you think I'm whining for nothing.”

“That's… closer to home.”

Tae smiled, looking upfront, stupidly handsome and cocky behind the wheel.

“Unbelievable,” Jimin huffed. “You aren't supposed to say that. You are trying to get me mad, on purpose!”

“I swear, I don't…”

Tae kept smiling, which still meant he found this exchange hilarious, while for Jimin it was not.

“Don't change the bouquet!” He bursted. “Not now. Now when I finally know it's yours. I was expecting it.”

A soon as he spoke, the rage that possessed him deflated.

Such a big outburst! Woah… He used to be more menacing than this.

Yet the foolish smirk from Tae was gone, so it worked.

“Hey, hey, sorry. I didn't think it through.” Tae catched his hand, and brought it towards his lips. “Won't happen again.”

Worked too well.

“You better.”

Or so he thought.

“But you know, that is my job, and I work  with the meanings, and maybe red roses was cliche, but fitting.”

“I don't care! They mean nothing to me!”

“Alright. I will write that on your tombstone. Park Jimin, picky kitty, don't bring him red roses. He finds them tacky.”

Jimin gasped, offended.

The car stopped, and Jimin rushed outside, huffing. Smashing the door.

“You are impossible!”

But once outside, disoriented, he looked around and realized that they weren't at their home. They had traveled quite far, actually, if he was where he believed he was. High glass walls, christmas decoration, and the shadow of a pagoda ceiling around the corner… He never realized their path, invested in Tae and their little argument.

Silly. Silly. Silly!

Tae that came out of the car, fresh as a daisy.

“You didn't,” Jimin pointed at Tae, from the opposite side of the car.

"I did,” he put his hands on his pockets, chilling. Weight against the vehicle.

“You idiot!” Jimin ran, jumped at him, and bit his cheek. “You are a fool!”

It was the Four Seasons. An icon in christmas sexgates in Seoul. It was on their bucket list, but…

“The 24th was impossible. But today was your big day, so I figured it out…”

Jimin didn't let Tae finish, just kissed him because he either could say something really stupid that would drive him mad, or crush him with something beautiful and make him cry. And they still had to check in, and he really didn't want to cry outside.

“Save it.”

He kissed him again, against the car. That was fine. Eager hands messing Tae's stupidly well fitting green suit.

That was better.

***

Once in the room, the surprise didn't end. As soon as he opened the door, well, no. As Tae! His jacket hanging from his forearm and vest at display opened the door for him (such a fine gentleman), Jimin saw the petals and spireas all around. Crowning every surface.

He plain sobbed, and Tae was conscious and worried enough to look remorseful. Holding his waist, then cradling Jimin's face.

Such a Tae thing, holding him like a treasure.  

And he somehow got used to this.

To the lovely gestures.

To be a brat. A pampered brat.

“Sorry. I shouldn't have played with them, I know what they mean to you,” Tae apologized and Jimin scoffed.

He was too lucky.

“It's fine.” Jimin inhaled, exhaled. Checking his breath, the heat on his face. “it wasn't a big deal, I'm just, surpassed, by the end of the year but… This was thoughtful, a fantasy. Thank you… God,” Jimin brought his forehead against Tae. “You are such a romantic!” Jimin laughed. “I almost booked this for your birthday, but I was thinking, edible shorts, and melted chocolate?” Jimin bursted laughing and Tae followed him. “Not this.”

“I like your plans. Would definitely appreciate them.” Tae rounded him.

“Prepare yourself, I will double this,” Jimin snapped his fingers, outside of the frame of his hug.

And Tae catched that hand, and imprisoned him better, in a tighter embrace. Kisses to Jimin's neck.

“I love you.”

He whispered to his ear.

Still, raising every hair on his neck, lighting on his skin.

Jimin nodded against Tae's face, cheeks pressing, red and sensitive.

“Love you too.”

“You were amazing today.”

Tae believed each fucking word, admiration and pride dripping with every syllabe, and that meant the world to Jimin.

“Thank you,” he bubbled.

Kisses to their cheeks. Fingers hanging from fabric until…

“And now, if you take out your shoes, and drop your phone, there is one last promise waiting.”

“No.” Jimin beamed, pressing his lips as Tae stepped on his own shoes, sliding his feet out. Belt also out. It couldn't be. Jimin followed, but flexing his knees high, between them, phone already on the tall table by the door.

Tae arched his eyebrows, and he himself removed Jimin's shoes, mocking his flexibility. Silence between them, both calculating. Jimin guessing, trilled. Then as the last shoe dropped Tae catched both his legs without notice, and raised him between his arms, bridal style.

Jimin yelled, laughing, surprised.

And marching through one door, kicked by Tae, there was waiting, of course a lilac bubbled, completely filled, Jacuzzi. In which Tae dropped Jimin before teasing him to the surface a couple of times.

“No, no, Tae! Let me down! Now! Aaaah! What have you done?”

“I put you down!”

“It's, cold!”

“Lukewarm, cause you are hot enough.”

“My suit!”

Jimin wrestled Tae inside the tube with him. He didn't resist, falling in, it was always on his plan. But he did complain about the bubbles getting on his eyes. To which Jimin's solution was to push his head under the surface, again.

Then mock him about the state of his hair, shaped into a funny wave, from Jimin's pull.

“You know, this was supposed to be sexy.”

Tae complained, sitting one meter apart.

“Then next time throw me naked.”

“Everything has to be your way, always…” Tae crawled in his direction, rolling his eyes.

Jimin throbbed him more water, still laughing.

“Of course, I know better, and know what I like.”

“I agree,” Tae conceded, getting in his space. “But from time to time, let me tweak things a little.” He hovered over Jimin, hair pulled back, white shirt translucent against his skin. Jimin's breath halted, as his hand gripped the edge of the bath. “Because I'm what you like, after all.”

“You are.”

Their noses touched. Jimin tilted his head, opened his mouth. And Tae catched it, together with a soft moan.

Which came from Jimin's mouth, but sounded too loud and obscene.

Long short story.

What Jimin loved of Jacuzzies, or even better, pools, beyond how lighter everything was, and how easy to maintain some poses, was something accidental to the experience. The sound, the echo. How loud and obvious everything turned if you happened to be under the water or a corner of a tiled room.

So, next call, he might better check for a pool, and rent The Shape of Water, because Tae loved it.

In the meanwhile.

“Slow,” he begged.

He didn’t need to say more. Tae finished their kiss soft and sweet, cupping his face.

Then he observed and acted following the kudos of Jimin’s body.

The little tweaks giving him away.

Some muscles were sore, his legs, over all. The warm water (it was actually nice) was working on Jimin, rendering him powerless, excited, but drained. He grabbed with both hands the border walls, head slightly pressed against it, resting, and let his body float, light and relaxed. And Tae drove a hand under his lower back as support, helping him rise, be at display. Then carefully started removing his damp clothes, annoying and on the way. 

Tae’s breathing pausing whenever some skin got revealed.

The echo selling him short each time, and Jimin biting his lips, pleased. Giving a show.

Tae got rid of Jimin’s shirt first. Then the trousers and slacks. Balancing Jimin over and under the surface to smooth out the fabric with the delicacy of an artist. Gentle fingers caressing on his trail, more soft than the occasional petal crossing through his body.

All while Jimin melted. The tension and strain of his body disappearing, just floating between warm but refreshing clouds.

Alight by the touch of an angel.

Only that keeping him on his body, feeling.

“When you jump on stage,” Tae rustled, interrupting the sultry silence, his voice solemn, “it seems like you are floating. Like you are made of air. Divine. Just like now.”

Jimin gasped, pleased, breathing in a good amount of flowery scented air; and with it his body surfaced. He could feel Tae’s eyes on him, on his bare skin, even with his own eyes shutted. His hands on his little back and hip, radiating heat and a possessive grip.

It was delightful, a lovely comfort.

Then swiftly Tae grabbed one of his legs, and kissed it. From his knee to the inner tight. The water moving as the limb traded the water, and his lover following it. With eyes still closed, Jimin catched each sound concentrated, his fingertips white against the ceramic, not daring to breathe, to exhale, to not overshadow the soft echoes.

“You are unreal,” Tae whispered, lips over his skin.

“I’m barely human,” Jimin whispered, riding a wave of desire.

Tae kissed his hip bone and waist, as his hand moved to massage his quadriceps, protruding and sensitive after the show, and Jimin couldn’t help but moan of pleasure.

His eyelashes fluttered, and thus he caught Tae, staring at him.

Jimin bit his lips, wanting deeply. Then smiled.

Sweet and inviting.

Tae’s expression, was unreadable. A mix of emotions.

Eyes fixed on Jimin, though.

“I have something to confess.” Tae cleared his voice, and smiled at Jimin, reassuring, like going out of a trance.

“I’m all ears, darling.”

And the Tae that spoke to him hadn’t the cocky personality that sometimes possessed him, or the intensity that characterized him. It was just a confession. A secret between friends.

“Each time, since the first time I saw you dance, you appeared to me like a star. How you shine,  fly, and then fall; you belong to the heavens.” The starry eyes of a kid, shined behind Tae’s gaze. “Whenever I see you my heart longs for crazy things, and the most magical thing about you is that at the end I always get them.”

Jimin released his grip and air, falling slowly into Tae’s lap. 

His heart making a scandal.

Tae’s hands finding his waist.

This man had once been bad with words, but got dangerous with an incredible speed. Jimin couldn’t believe the monster he created.

If only there weren’t his honesty and innocence what was so devastating, he would be worried.

“Am I your personal shooting star?” Jimin cooed.

“Yeah.” Tae’s boxy smile beamed. “Exactly. And you granted me plenty of wishes this far.”

Tae’s fingers trailed Jimin’s spine.

Jimin crossed one hand over Tae’s nape, pulling gently to get closer.

Crazy to kiss him.

“No way… I suspect that your wishes are easy to comply. Mind telling me one?”

Tae laughed, twisting his head to kiss Jimin’s wrist.

“I swear, they were never simple. Like… a year ago, exactly a year ago, I asked something outrageous: I wanted you for me, I wanted a chance, while you wouldn’t even look at me. And I didn’t deserve you, I knew… yet I offered my heart and pride, all that I could spare, anything but you... And here we are. It worked.”

Jimin struggled to find his voice.

Had it been only a year ago? That distant chaos, desperation… It seemed way more.

A good life, an infinite array of peaceful mornings, and a solid body, around him, separated him from that dark memory. It was actually hard to remember why it all had seemed so dim once.

But it was no secret how that changed.

Jimin was staring at his own miracle.

“And what have you asked for, now?”

Tae grinned, devilish.

“My most pretentious wish until now. Completely greedy and insane. I’m quite proud of it.”

Jimin chuckled.

Tae cupped Jimin’s face, eyes basking on it. A thumb caressing his cheek, entranced.

Jimin closed the distance, no rush on it: resting their foreheads together, whispering soft words, before locking their lips.

“Wanna hear my own wish? I fear it could be the same.”