Chapter Text
10 years ago
Jimin fumbled his way through the dark hallway, feeling along the walls for the right door as sweaty, drunk freshman grinded along to the Halloween EDM playlist being blasted from the courtyard. He narrowly dodged being impaled by an elbow as someone attempted to krump within the narrow confines of the hallway. Jimin ignored them and continued his mission, scooching from door to door to find the room he was looking for. He silently pumped his fist in victory when his fingers traced over the right dorm number.
He didn’t bother knocking. Seokmin—was his name Seokmin? Jimin couldn’t remember. He had pretty eyes and a sexy jawline and that’s all that had mattered to him—had told him that his door would be unlocked and he’d be waiting in his bed.
“Hey?” he whispered as he quietly shut the door behind him, blocking out the loud thumping of the bass. The room was dark and Jimin could barely make out the outline of a body lying in the top bunk. “You wait up long?” He grinned and began to climb into the upper bed. Seokmin didn’t stir—he had probably fallen asleep—and Jimin lay alongside him. “Hey, did you prep yourself? I kinda wanna get things started…” As Jimin brought his hand to hold Seokmin’s hip, the other boy startled and let out a shrill screech as he elbowed him in the solar plexus.
“Fuck!” Jimin wheezed for air and sat up straight as he put his hand over the targeted spot on his chest. “Jesus, what’s your problem??” His eyes had adjusted to the darkness a bit and he finally noticed the sleep mask over Seokmin’s eyes. Oh, now he was pissed. Falling asleep while waiting for him? Fine. Purposely sleeping and then attacking him when Jimin had been the one to graciously offer him an ass-eating? Downright disrespectful.
Without a second thought, he ripped off Seokmin’s eye mask and-
“Who the fuck are you?” screamed Very-Not-Seokmin. The boy flailed to scoot as far away from Jimin as possible, kicking him in the stomach in the process, causing Jimin to double over in pain and squeeze his eyes shut.
“I should be asking you that!” he wheezed out.
“Get out get out GET OUT!” the boy suddenly shoved Jimin with all of his strength and sent Jimin tumbling out of the bunk and crashing onto the floor.
Jimin had the breath knocked out of him as he landed with a wham and, oh god, was that a crack? Did he just hear something crack? He must’ve broken a rib. Or his back. Or both. Before he even had time to roll over in pain, the person was already hovering above him and holding something dangerously close to his face.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded, albeit with a quakey voice.
Jimin coughed and felt his chest ache. He was in way too much pain to be dealing with this right now; both physically, and emotionally from the realization that he was probably not getting any tonight.
“Answer!” he shoved the object—it’s perfume, Jimin noticed much too late—into his face and squirts the liquid right into his eyes.
Jimin shrieked and began to rub his eyes furiously as the sting consumed his vision.
“I’m here for Seokmin!” he yelled. “Who the fuck are you??” Damn that hurt. Tears were streaming down his face and his eyes felt like he had walked through a car wash with his eyelids taped open.
“I’m Taehyung, the roommate!” Taehyung yelled back.
“What the—he told me you’d be studying in the library ‘cuz you’re a nerd!”
Another spritz in the face. Jimin lets out an inhuman scream of agony.
“What the hell was that for??”
“For coming into a stranger’s bed without permission,” Taehyung scolded. After a pause, he quickly squirted Jimin in the eyes again. “And that one’s for calling me a nerd!”
“Okay, okay I’m sorry, I’ll leave, just please stop, I’m gonna go blind!” Jimin begged, writhing on the ground and coughing up the burning liquid that had trickled down the back of his throat.
“Oh, shit, sorry. Here, I’ll help you.” Jimin felt large hands reach under his armpits and yank him up, and together they stumbled into the suite bathroom.
Twenty minutes later, and Jimin’s vision began returning to him. Taehyung had rested him on the toilet and flushed his eyes out with Red Solo cups full of icy tap water as Jimin tilted his head back over the basin of the sink.
“Any better?” Taehyung’s voice was soft and concerned, a complete 180 of the person he was earlier. Then again, most people wouldn’t be so naturally welcoming to strangers in their bed at one a.m.
Jimin blinked some more as the cool water soothed the burn and he could actually keep his eyes open for longer than five seconds. “Yeah. Thanks. I’m sorry, again, for freaking you out like that. I honestly thought you were Seokmin.”
Taehyung snorted. “You better be sorry. That was Bloom by Gucci, you know. ₩100,000 a pop.”
Jimin laughed. He didn’t think Taehyung could have a sense of humor, especially after having his space invaded by a stranger in the middle of the night. “I’m Jimin, by the way.”
Taehyung splashed some more water across Jimin’s face, making him yelp. “Oh, I know who you are.”
“You do?”
“You’re Park Jimin, playboy extraordinaire. I think there are more pictures of your abs on ‘Konkuk University Best Sights’ than anything else, actually,” he noted. “You’ve slept with half this floor already.”
Jimin sexily pushed his wet hair back and gave Taehyung a tigerish grin. “Would you like to join the other half of your floor, then?”
Taehyung scoffed and flicked the last drops of water onto Jimin’s chest, making Jimin squeal at the chill. “As if, casanova.” He pretended to flick his hair over his shoulder, unbothered.
“What? Why not?”
“‘Cuz I’m not just some tally mark to add to your list of one-night stands. I’m classier than that.”
“Let me guess, ‘cuz you’re a Gucci boy, right?” Jimin teased.
Taehyung poked his chest smugly. “Exactly. See? You’re not as dumb as people say you are.” He lowered himself on the linoleum floor across him.
Jimin grabbed a washcloth to begin toweling off his hair. “Dumb…? What? Is that why you don’t want to sleep with me? Not that I’m salty about that, or anything, but I mean is that why? There’s a rumor?” Taehyung barked out a laugh in response. “What’s so funny?” Jimin honestly wasn’t used to this feeling of being hung up on a person who wasn’t hung up over him. It was quite a sensation, really.
“You! God, you think you’re such hot stuff, it’s almost sad.”
Jimin folded his arms over his chest. “Well, if we’re being honest and judging each other’s looks, I’d give you a...” he glanced Taehyung up and down, took in his long legs, broad shoulders, elegant collarbones just peeking out from his t-shirt collar, and his soft, honey walnut hair. “Honestly, an 8,” he lied. This boy was easily 10, no, 20. Thousand. Twenty thousand. As far as Jimin was concerned, heaven could keep their angels, he found one on earth right here sitting across from him on this mildew covered linoleum.
“Oh? I’m usually a 10. What knocked me down points?” Taehyung grinned foxishly.
“That look. The ‘I’m-ready-to-give-my-heart-to-you look. Your puppy dog eyes give you away.”
“Excuse me?” Taehyung raised his eyebrows, mouth drawn into a tight line, not of disgust, but more of intrigue. Jimin could tell he was carefully guarding his reaction. Interesting.
“After sleeping with so many people you pick up on the different types. You: you’re the hot one who wears their heart on their sleeve and falls in love too easily.” Jimin brushed his hands off casually. “That’s it, right?”
“Well, that’s just mean.”
“I’m being honest.”
“Oh, you want me to be honest with you?”
Jimin grinned right back. “By all means.”
Taehyung scooted closer to Jimin and crossed his legs, squinting his eyes in concentration. “I’m a Fine Arts major. I spent six weeks studying the goddamn golden proportions of the face and let me tell you, sir. Your nose is flat. You could nail a board on it. Your eyebrows are too far apart for your eyes, probably because your eyes are uneven, and your lips are too big. But they’d have to be, to overcompensate for your small nose.” He bopped Jimin on the nose with the tip of his finger and gave a satisfied smirk.
Jimin gulped. He swallowed down the tickle of butterflies fluttering out of his stomach and into his throat as he felt his heart swoop, just a tiny bit, not a whole lot. A dip, really, his heart was just dipping its metaphorical toes into the pool of attraction. Barely even a splash. “That was… pretty cool.”
“What? Really? I just made fun of your face,” Taehyung laughed in disbelief, placing the heel of his palm on his forehead.
“The honesty, the rawness… wow now I’m glad we didn’t have sex, that was way better. Most people aren’t straight up with me like that,” Jimin said in awe. He couldn’t describe it. Something about Taehyung just interested him.
Taehyung pretended to flip his hair over his shoulder again, a funny little habit of his that Jimin found himself growing fonder of. “Well, I mean, it did feel pretty good,” he goaded.
“Do you wanna, like, hang out sometime?”
“Sure,” Taehyung agreed. “Just next time, don’t sneak into my bed.”
Jimin placed his hand over his heart and raised the other in the air in an oath. “I would never dream of it.”
Present
Jimin slips on his shoes as silently as possible and shuts the front door behind him, wincing as the click of the lock rattles the window. This has to be the worst part about one night stands, the magic escape act the next morning. Honestly, Jimin’s gotten pretty good at it over the years, but he’s not proud at how easy the routine has become for him. Some people understand and take it well, but he can never escape the guilt every time he blocks the senders of confused texts asking about the second date.
Life moves on, and so does Jimin.
It's better that he doesn't stay around, anyway, better that he doesn't give them false hope. Besides, his best relationships are his friendships. These people are permanent, these are the people who will never leave him.
You can understand his surprise then when his best friend in the entire universe, partner in crime, keeper of all his secrets and life advisor Kim Taehyung announces that he’s moving to America over brunch that morning.
Jimin spits out his food. “What? America? As in, moving to?”
“No, not moving to, it’s just for a month, Jimin, don’t over exaggerate.” Taehyung pushes little pieces of pancakes around his plate, twirling them in maple syrup.
“I feel like I am exaggerating at precisely the appropriate amount. America? What part?”
“As if you’d be able to tell me where it is on a map.”
“The only important cities you need to remember are the ones with stars and bolded words along the coastline, the rest of the country is useless, arguably.”
Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Los Angeles. I’ll be working on pieces for an exhibition at the L.A. County Museum of Art. They’re sending me to learn their techniques, make professional connections, yaddah yaddah. But get this! They’re putting me up in a five-star hotel!”
Jimin holds a hand up. “No, back up. We didn't revere in your bewildering glory and talent for long enough. Tae, that’s amazing? I’m so proud of you, holy fuck, this is the opportunity of a lifetime!”
“I know, now the floor will finally be clean enough for me to drop my Versace on it.” Taehyung flutters his eyes and smirks when Jimin crumples up a napkin and tosses it at his head.
“Forget about the hotel, idiot, you know what I’m talking about.”
Taehyung laughs lightly and reaches across the table to place his hand over Jimin’s. “Thank you, Jiminnie, I’m really happy too.”
“I’m gonna miss you a little bit, though.”
“Just a little bit? Wow. You’re dead to me. Friendship over.”
Jimin ignores his dramatic antics and takes another bite of his food. “I’ll be able to handle the gripping loneliness that’ll keep me up for exactly thirty days until you return, don’t worry about me.”
“You know I always worry about you, right? That’s my job. If I quit worrying about you I’d be jobless .”
“Keep chatting me up like this and soon you really will be,” Jimin says, eyeing his watch. Taehyung catches the time and gasps, shoveling the rest of his food into his mouth. “Need a ride?”
Taehyung’s already standing up and shoving on his coat, not even bothering to look at him as he nods and downs his coke in three gulps. (“Coffee is the devil, Jimin. Caffeine doesn’t need to taste that bad.”) He slams down the mug with a loud exhale. “Autobots, let’s roll.”
Jimin follows him down the pavement, lightly trotting as he zips up his jacket. “It’s ‘Autobots, roll out,’” he corrects.
“Eh, it had the same emotion, you get the point,” Taehyung shrugs. “I never watched those movies anyway.”
“I did. All of them. They were bad.”
“Must be nice to be a jobless trust fund bazillionaire who sits on his ass all day and watches movies so that I don’t have to. It’s a bold sacrifice.” Taehyung grins and shoves his hand in Jimin’s pocket, ushering him to walk faster.
“I told you to invest in Hoseok-hyung’s tech startup back in college, but did you listen to me? No… you wanted to get a ‘real job’ because a company for apps that morphed celebrity pictures together to see what their potential baby would look like is ‘risky’ and ‘creepy on so many levels,’” Jimin raises his eyebrows. “Your loss! Now one of us gets to travel the world working for a renowned museum and restoring priceless art and one of us gets to make amateur movie reviews of all of Michael Bay’s movies for the other.”
“I really could have had it all with you, living the hot life.” Taehyung clicks his tongue. “Shame.”
“Shame.”
“When I get old and wrinkly and my hands are too shaky to paint anymore, I plan to marry you to get on the will you know.”
Jimin hisses in a breath. “Yikes. Shouldn’t have told me that, now someone is going to the bottom of my list of people to marry when I’m old and wrinkly.”
“Oh? Then who’s at the top?”
“You. You’re the only one on the list, actually. I wouldn’t trust anyone else to cohabitate with me when I’m a cranky elder.”
“I’m the only one you’d ever want to marry, ever? Surely you’ve met someone else along your numerous escapades who’s made you want to share your life with them until you grow old.”
“Of course not? Let’s not kid ourselves, Tae, if I ever married anyone it’d be you. It’s always been you,” Jimin looks at him dumbfounded as they step into the car. “Why are you so interested in this?”
“Because you don’t want to get married,” Taehyung points out.
“Right.”
“So this is all hypothetical anyway.”
“Yeah, of course.”
Taehyung turns forward again. “Of course. You’re such a fool,” he laughs and shakes his head. Jimin gets the sense that he’s speaking to himself and not to him.
“What are you talking about?”
“Nothing. Just got my hopes up that you would eventually find the love of your life and settle down one day. I want kids, Jimin! How much longer will you keep me waiting?”
“You mean nieces and nephews?”
“Yes, yes. Your kids. I want kids for you. I’ll steal them and raise them as my own anyway so it doesn’t really matter,” Taehyung waves his hand nonchalantly, “but it’s the principle of it.”
Jimin laughs dryly, a little confused and a bit concerned as to why Taehyung is still pressing this topic. “Um. Okay. You know that I-”
“‘Wanna live the hot bachelor life and not be tied down by people you’ll grow tired of and will abandon you because you don’t like the feeling of being powerless and not in control of your own life,’ I know, I know,” Taehyung sighs and gazes out the window, a little miffed.
“I was gonna say, I don’t think I could raise a child on my own. But yes, that too.” He flicks his eyes away from the road for a second to check on him. “Hey, are you sure you’re okay?”
Taehyung reaches over to hold his hand without breaking his gaze through the window. “Yeah, I guess I’m just reaching that age where I’m worried about falling in love with a person who won’t love me back soon enough. Of wanting things in my life that they don’t want in theirs.” He shrugs it off. “Just overthinking it probably.”
“Tae, hey,” Jimin rubs his thumb soothingly across the back of his hand. “That’s just the doubt in you putting nonsense in your head. Any person who’s truly worthy of your love will absolutely love you back. Trust me.”
Taehyung gives him a tight smile and laughs it off. “I wish I could, Jimin.”
“Then do it. Trust me.”
“But how can-”
“Trust me.”
Taehyung squeezes his hand. “You know I do,” he whispers. Jimin squeezes back.
“I know you do.”
They pull up to the curb across the street from the museum and park in their usual drop-off spot: in a patch of shade underneath an ancient tree just a few gusts of wind away from toppling over and pulling down a rotting telephone pole. Technically it’s illegal to park there, but Taehyung figures the ‘No Parking’ sign is more for warning others to escape an electrocuted pancake death, so this has been their regular goodbye spot every Sunday for the past few years. They meet at their favorite restaurant, Jimin shares the reviews of his latest movie binge sessions, Taehyung shows the latest painting he’s restoring, and they order their meals for each other to share.
“When are you leaving?” he asks.
“Wednesday.”
“Wow. Three days. That’s kind of short notice.”
“I wanted to save the news for Sunday brunch.” Taehyung smiles apologetically. “It was a good surprise, right?”
“The best. You’re amazing, Tae, I’m seriously in so much awe. We need to hang out before you leave me to die of boredom for a month.” Jimin smiles.
“Aw, babe I'm sorry, I have a bunch of projects I need to finish up before I leave so I won't have time.” Taehyung tucks Jimin's hair behind his ear delicately. “Sorry. Today's going to be the last Sunday for a while.”
“Oh. Well, I can drop you off at the airport?” he offers.
“Work's getting me a cab.”
“Oh. Nice. So… I guess I'll have four Sundays to figure out how I'm supposed to spend my life without you.”
Taehyung pats his cheek. “I'm sure you'll figure something out.”
“I could travel? Visit my parents. Vacation in Los Angeles. Who knows.”
“No. You aren't coming with me. You can't even speak English that well, Jiminie.”
“I could learn!” he protests. “A month is a very long time. Very long. You could meet another billionaire and run off with him and marry the president in a month. Ariel became a human and got married in three days, at sixteen. Imagine what Kim Taehyung, di Angelo to the gods, master wielder of the brush, can do in thirty days.” He gives him a bittersweet smile. “It's gonna be great for you,” he reassures, although maybe the words are more comforting for him than for Taehyung.
Taehyung smiles back and hugs him, burying his face in his neck. “That's right, it's only thirty days; only four Sundays and I'll be right back here with you. We can call and video chat every day, don't worry.”
Jimin squeezes him tighter, memorizing the feel of his best friend in his arms, hoping this hug can last him for an entire month.
Taehyung taps on the window once he's stepped out of the car, motioning for Jimin to lower it.
“Jimin?”
“Yeah? Leave something in here?”
He shakes his head. “I'll return. I'll come back, I promise.” He sticks his pinky out and Jimin locks it with his.
“Promise?”
Taehyung nods. “Promise. I'll always return to you. Just wait for me for a little bit.”
Jimin's smile dazzles. “I'll be waiting. Come back soon, I miss you already.”
Taehyung laughs and takes a step back, giving a little salute and a terrible Arnold Schwarzenegger impersonation to make Jimin laugh before finally walking up the stairs to the museum. Every few steps he stops to turn and wave over his shoulder and Jimin has to cover his mouth with his hand to keep himself from howling when he trips over a pigeon.
A month won't be so bad.
Somehow, the more he thinks it, the less he believes himself.
***
Jimin lazily folds another paper airplane on his stomach, sending it flying with a flick of his wrist once he’s put the finishing touches on the wings. It slices through the air with frightening precision and stabs Jungkook in the back of his neck.
“Ow??” The boy whips around at his desk and gives Jimin the stink-eye. “How many more of those are you gonna make? Quit wasting my paper and go do something better with your time, like bothering Jin-hyung.” The plane falls to the ground and joins dozens of its brethren that Jimin has been launching at Jungkook for the past half hour.
Jimin sighs dramatically and covers his eyes delicately with the back of his hand. “I can’t. He already banned me from his office ‘cuz he has to get work done.” That’s not going to stop him from going back to bother him again, though.
“And you don’t think I have to get work done?” Jungkook gestures in frustration at the heaps of paper (read: airplane material) on his table. “Just because you don’t have a job doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t have to work.”
Jimin rolls over onto his belly on Jungkook’s office loveseat. “But Jungkookieee,” he whines. “I’m so bored. I don’t know what to do.”
“Jesus, Taehyung left,” Jungkook checks his watch, “five hours ago, hyung. You better find something else to do for the month that he’s gone because you’re sure as fuck not gonna be withering away on my couch for the whole time.”
Jimin pouts. “I could try,” he mutters to himself.
“What do you normally do when he’s gone?” Jungkook asks as he turns back to his work.
Jimin thinks. He taps his chin thoughtfully and realizes that he can’t remember the last time he’d gone without talking to Taehyung for a long period of time. “Wait for him to get back.”
“God, you’re pathetic.”
“Hey!” Jimin hurls a crumpled up airplane at Jungkook’s head. “Don’t be jealous because you don’t have a soulmate like I do.”
“I’m not.”
“Pretending to be sleeping so that Yoongi-hyung will let you rest your head on his lap is not soulmate level, Jungkook, I don’t even know what you’d call that. Desperate, probably.”
“Listen! We all have different ways to go about wooing our men: mine is to try to steadily increase our skinship level until one day he kisses me on accident and we take the opportunity to confess our love to each other, and yours is to deny all feelings you have for him altogether.”
Jimin fake wretches. “I don’t have feelings for Yoongi-hyung.”
“I’m talking about Taehyung.”
Jimin fake wretches again, only this time he clutches his heart and dramatically rolls off the loveseat onto the floor. “I do not have feelings for Taehyung! He’s like my platonic soulmate!”
“Give it up, hyung, everyone knows. There’s no use in denying it,” Jungkook swivels his chair back and forth and kicks his feet. “How long did you think you could hide it from us?”
Jimin blinks up at Jungkook from the floor. “Hide what?”
“That you guys are dating.”
“ What? Since when?? Taehyung started dating me and didn’t even tell me?” Jimin gasps sharply and covers his mouth. “The audacity.”
Jungkook chucks a smashed plane at Jimin but it floats pathetically to the floor. “Ugh, you’re so annoying. Why do I even bother…” he mutters to himself, shaking his head.
Jimin giggles. He loves pushing Jungkook’s buttons, more than he’ll admit. “Look who’s talking. You don’t think Tae and I get annoyed with the nonstop dating accusations?”
“No, I know only you get annoyed by them. Taehyung doesn’t mind.”
“It’s because nothing bothers Tae.”
“Uh, it’s because he’s fucking in love with you, but go off, I guess.”
Jimin opens his mouth. Then closes it. In love with him? He coughs out a laugh and throws his head back. In all of his years of being Taehyung’s best friend, Jimin has not once, not ever thought of him in a romantic way, not even in a ‘friends-with-benefits’ kind of way. All thoughts of doing anything less than platonic with Taehyung had been born and had died on the night that they met. “If he was in love with me he would’ve said something by now. You think anyone would suffer through years of me being a generally love-incompetent, hook-up prone, flaky ho and not say anything?”
“You think anyone who wasn’t in love with you would do that either?” Jungkook mumbles. “Hyung, you know him better than any of us, so maybe there’s like a 1% chance you’re right and he doesn’t actually love you, but have you seen the man? Have you ever met him? He would kill himself just to see you smile, you know that.” Jungkook turns from his work to give Jimin a serious look.
And Jimin feels just a tinge of guilt. Because Jungkook’s right. Taehyung would do anything for him. But love him? Love him as more than a friend? He’s teased the possibility that Taehyung might have a crush on him once or twice because of Jungkook’s incessancy, but he’s never given it serious thought until now.
He supposes it takes a lot out of him to be with another person, but not with Taehyung, never with Taehyung. Loving him comes easily, like stretching in the morning after a long sleep, like tilting his head back to soak in the sun on a beautiful day.
A knock at Jungkook’s office door interrupts his thoughts.
“Hey, kid, could you take a look at the package design you did for the Honey Bunny Mix ‘n Match Set again? I think the dimensions are off,” Yoongi enters without looking up from his iPad.
“What? I triple checked that,” Jungkook groans and squishes his cheek into his keyboard.
Yoongi greets Jimin with a small wave when he tears his gaze away from his iPad and walks over to show Jungkook the design. Jungkook doesn’t lift his head and continues to pout.
“I’m gonna have to stay all night to fix it…”
“Kid,” Yoongi whispers. “Look.”
“I’m too embarrassed.”
“Y’all work at a lingerie company and design underwear for a living, how can this embarrass you?” Jimin rolls his eyes.
They shrug. “After a while lingerie just loses its sex appeal, it’s just work,” Yoongi answers.
“Yeah, I can’t even wear underwear anymore,” Jungkook groans.
Yoongi freezes. “You don’t… wear underwear?”
Jungkook’s head flies up when he realizes what he’s revealed. “I mean, I don’t even want to wear underwear! Anymore. Don’t want to see it. On me! I like seeing I on other people- Uh, like, I can still work fine, with the underwear, the designs and stuff.” He hisses in a quiet breath and bites his tongue to keep himself from saying anything else stupid. “I still wear underwear,” he adds quietly. He rubs his cheeks to remove the red outlines of his keyboard.
“So you just don’t like wearing any underwear?” Yoongi raises an amused eyebrow.
“...Yeah I guess.”
Yoongi laughs. “Noted.”
Jimin whistles lowly from his seat and crosses his ankles innocently when Jungkook sends him dirty glares.
“Sorry, hyung, I’ll fix the designs right away,” Jungkook sighs and begins to open InDesign on his desktop.
“Kid, it’s fine, you just sent me the wrong file. I see it in your folders right there.” Yoongi places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder and leans over his head to point at the screen.
“Oh. Right. Thanks, hyung.” Jungkook touches the tips of Yoongi’s fingers with his own and breathes out a huge sigh of relief.
Jimin watches Jungkook’s pathetic plan to increase skinship with Yoongi and make them fall in love with each other from three feet away and he is having none of it. He coughs loudly and covers his smile when Jungkook yanks his hand away from Yoongi’s, totally flustered.
Yoongi pats his shoulder before moving away. “Anytime, kid.”
“I love you,” Jungkook whispers to him.
“What did you just say?”
“I said do you want a chocolate?” Jungkook pulls open his top drawer and takes out a canteen of mini m&m’s.
“Just one? Jeon, they’re like the size of an ant.”
“Perfect size for you then. You can get two because you’re special.” Jungkook grabs Yoongi’s hand and actually pours a hefty amount of mini chocolates into his palm. Yoongi tucks his iPad under his arm so he can use both hands to cup the m&m’s and Jungkook beams up at him. “Better eat them before they melt.”
Yoongi shakes his head in mild disbelief, smiling to himself as he exits Jungkook’s workspace trying to balance all the candy. “You’re incredible, kid, really something.”
When the door shuts Jungkook spins around excitedly to Jimin’s unimpressed face.
“Did you see that??”
“Yeah, saw you make a fool out of yourself.”
“What? Did you hear at the end though? He called me incredible,” Jungkook says dreamily and rests his head on his arm as he leans over the back of his chair.
“You literally flirt like a 5th grader. What the hell was that?”
“I saw it on The Office. Jim gave Dwight a mint every time his computer chimed and eventually Dwight wanted a mint whenever he heard the computer chime. I’m doing that but every time I whisper ‘I love you’ I’ll give him some candy or something so he’ll associate happy memories of me with love.”
“You mean the Pavlovian theory?”
“No, pretty sure it was The Office.”
“I- okay, nevermind. Nevermind! How long have you been doing that?”
“Like, since I started working here?”
“Wow. Jungkook, if you keep this up you guys will be married in,” Jimin checks his watch, “five years.”
Jungkook’s jaw drops. “You think he’ll marry me?”
“Absolutely.”
Jungkook checks his drawer. “I think I’m gonna need more candy then.”
Jimin stands up and stretches his arms to crack his back. “I’ll get some from the vending machine,” he offers. “I need to get out of your weird little gremlin hole anyways and get some fresh air.”
“What the shit, clean up your mess first, hyung.”
Jimin waves dismissively over his shoulder as he slips out. “Use the paper for your Yoongi shrine!”
He shuts the door before Jungkook can launch another ream of unopened paper at him, and the large slam as it collides with the door startles the interns working in the hallway. “Creative block,” Jimin explains, jabbing his thumb in Jungkook’s direction and grimacing. “Mondays, am I right? Haha, keep up the good work, fellas! Stay hydrated.” He winks at them as they begin to blush and makes a mental note to swing by later and get the one wearing glasses’ number.
He buys Jungkook three packs of m&m’s and then buys himself a roll of chocolate covered donuts because, honestly, what the fuck was Jungkook thinking. M&m’s are disgusting, how is he ever going to woo Yoongi with fondant filled tic-tacs? Amateur.
He trots up the stairs instead of taking the elevator (to make up for the donuts) and strolls into the Customer Service cluster of cubicles to find his favorite office hottie.
Jin’s on a phone call but when he sees Jimin he gestures him in and kicks his yoga ball over for him to sit on. Jimin wishes Jin had a real office and not just half a cubicle, it would make things an awful lot easier for them to talk shit and gossip, but he supposes Jin would never get fired anyway, seeing as his customer satisfaction rate is 100%. The man has charm.
“Ma’am, I hear you loud and clear and I promise you that I will do everything in my power to make things right on your end. Yes, I understand, you’re right, underwear should really have an expiration date on the package. I’ll let my superiors know immediately.” Jin gives Jimin a look and rolls his eyes so far back in his head Jimin’s afraid he’s passed out from frustration. “I will absolutely take care of this. Now, to address your wish for a refund on the used brasserie you bought from us five years ago, I will have to transfer you over to my co-worker Steve. Yes, thank you ma’am, it’s been a pleasure talking with you too. If you could do me the favor and give ‘Jin’ a satisfactory review once you get that email in your inbox I’d be eternally grateful.”
Jin places the phone down on his desk, not hanging up the receiver, and waits ten seconds as he stares at Jimin with dead eyes and his eerily calm customer service smile.
He picks up the phone again and speaks into it. “Hello, this is Steve,” he says in an incredibly thick American accent. “Refund? We can’t do that, lady, you’ve already worn that bra like, a thousand times. That’s gross. And a health code violation probably. Our underwear is so cheap because it’s crap, just buy another one for the cost of two instant noodles. This has been Steve. Don't call back.”
He hits the receiver and cuts the call off before the customer can reply. Swinging around to face Jimin, he slaps his knees and serves a fake smile. “I sure do love my job! Awesome. Great. Totally worth the subpar treatment.”
“I'm here now, shhh, it’s okay. You can drop the act. Here, refuel your tolerance-for-stupid-people battery.” Jimin tosses him a bag of m&m's, which Jin snatches less than gracefully in his mouth.
Jin rips into the bag with gusto. “I should quit.”
“You should. But you won't.”
“I can't. Who's going to continue my job?”
“I'm sure your replacement that they hire will.”
“No! I mean who's going to continue my job of getting Steve shitty customer complaints so that corporate will finally fire his misogynistic ass?”
Jimin snorts and pops a donut in his mouth, bouncing lightly on the yoga ball. “You're a true Robin Hood.”
“God, I know. I don't get paid enough for this. I could probably live off my severance longer than my salary at this point but they won't fucking FIRE me!”
“Maybe Namjoon from HR has a crush on you,” Jimin suggests. The only other hottie in the office who is probably far out of Jin's league most definitely has a crush on him. Jimin’s tried to tap that, believe him, he’s tried. Namjoon’s polite decline to Jimin’s advances only further proved the office gossip that Namjoon has been pining for a certain customer service rep, but he’ll let Jin deal with that on his own.
“Don't you fucking dare, Park. That bastard Namjoon from HR should ask me out instead of helping me keep my job.” Jin crosses his arms. “The absolute nerve.”
“Well, until you become Hoseok-hyung's sugar baby and/or golf caddy, you might be stuck taking calls from upset consumers of male-driven capitalism.”
“That's ridiculous.” Jin glances off. “Hoseok plays tennis, not golf.”
“Oh, to be young, in love, and in denial,” Jimin groans sarcastically around a mouthful of donut. “This whole office is full of lovesick idiots.”
“I would agree with that statement except for the fact that you don’t work here.”
“That is correct, I do not.” He holds up a donut to his eye and winks through it. “Haha, I donut work here.” Jin doesn’t laugh like he usually would at Jimin’s terrible attempts at humor. “Seriously, nothing?”
“You ignored the blatant implication of that.”
Jimin throws his hands up. “What is with you guys hounding on me and Taehyung today! Yes , okay I miss him and it’s only been a few hours, but he’s my best friend and I just don’t know how I’m going to deal with him not being in my life. He’s the first person I talk to in the morning and the last thing I think about before I go to sleep. It’s been killing me knowing he’s not right here next to me because I want to share every bit of my life with him.” Jimin stops and squints suspiciously at Jin’s silent haughtiness. “What’s up with the smirk.”
Jin winks at him. “Never said anything about Taehyung.”
Jimin scowls. “You- Bastard. I hope Namjoon never fires you!”
“Fire him? Why would I fire him?” Namjoon stops in the hall, arms full of D-ring binders, as he hears his name being shouted.
Jin’s eyes widen at his opportunistic appearance. “Because I suck-”
“At taking the credit of all his hard work! Man’s dedicated, I’ll give you that,” Jimin cuts in. “I can never get him to leave the office early on these rare occasions that I stop by.”
Namjoon looks at him through his slipping glasses. “You stop by almost daily, Jimin. Everyone thinks you work here. I’ve had to shred birthday checks that people write for you for like the past four years.”
“And still Jin-hyung does an outstanding job! Seriously, you cannot distract this man at all, a true exemplary leader. Firing him would be a huge, devastating loss to the company,” Jimin hypes, ignoring Jin’s seething glare. “Wait. Birthday checks?”
“Yeah, I agree, his work is outstanding. He does far more than what’s asked of him. Really, good job, hyung.” The last part of Namjoon’s compliment comes out more bashful, and he struggles to adjust his glasses whilst balancing the binders in his other arm.
“Good enough job for a raise?” Jin prompts.
“Er, well that’s not really up to me…” Namjoon’s elbow dips and the precarious tower of binders comes crashing to the ground. “...Shit.”
Jin’s already on his knees and collecting the escaped papers. “It’s okay, hyung’s got it.”
“No, I’m sorry, let me do it-”
The two of them bump heads as their hands reach for the same binder and the shock of it causes Namjoon to fall into Jin’s chest.
“Oh. Oh my god, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. Please don’t file a complaint of me to me.”
“Namjoon it’s fine, really, it’s fine-”
Jimin dunks his donut wrapper in Jin’s mini trash and rolls his eyes as he walks out of the cubicle. “This whole office is full of lovesick idiots , I swear,” he mumbles.
***
If loving Taehyung is easy, missing him comes easier.
Missing him isn’t loud. Jimin doesn’t spend his nights wailing in the darkness, he hasn’t stooped down to that level of patheticness, yet. And it’s not like he’s codependent with Taehyung, either, it’s not like he doesn’t have his own life, it’s just that his life is significantly less bright without him in it.
As soon as it hits 11 p.m. PST, Jimin sends Taehyung a text to be the first thing he sees as he steps off the plane.
Me
WELCOME TO AMERICA!!
i think ur plane should’ve landed by now!!
Message not delivered.
Me
Tae? R u getting my texts?
Message not delivered.
Me
:(
Message not delivered.
Missing him is the silent roll of the tide going out, being pulled farther away towards the horizon, the anxious waiting game as he watches the sunlight dance on the crest of the waves, knowing that the water will come back while lying to himself that playing in the sand is just as fun.
(It’s not.)
“Do you want to watch a movie?” Jimin asks.
“Oh, um, sorry, no thanks. I kind of just came over here for a quickie,” his date—can he even be called that?—replies.
“Right, right, of course. Sorry.”
“Thanks for the offer? But I’m not really… looking for anything.”
Jimin supposes that he isn’t either.
Or maybe he is?
After all these years of moving on from person to person, body to body, he can’t conclusively tell if he's ever found “it.” Whatever that is. Jimin's Bachelor's of Arts in Psychology would be telling him that maybe his perpetual routine of hitting and quitting might reveal his inner self-destructing tendencies, his distrust in himself and others, his hopeless search for something to fill the void in his high-maintenance heart.
Nahhh. Who is he kidding, that degree is fucking useless.
He’s fine. He’s absolutely fine. Just a little lonely, perhaps. He’s found himself with a significant amount of time on his hands now that he’s not driving Taehyung to work every day or picking up dinner for him. But he can still enjoy himself without a best friend by his side.
At least, he can try.
He deems getting brunch with Jungkook a failure— hyung, seriously? you want me to wake up early, just so that I can go out and eat a late breakfast?— and doesn’t even consider asking Jin or Hoseok over to watch scary movies. Not after what happened last time. Never again.
In good news, however, he’s organized his entire jewelry collection and Marie Kondo’d the shit out of his closet, finally. Sorting through old memorabilia and tossing out exes’ stolen sweaters is taking him longer than he’d like to admit because at some point he can’t figure out what was his to begin with. He throws out the jersey from the soccer player, the dress shirt from that jazz singer from the bar next to the laundromat, the sequined skirt from the drag queen with long acrylic nails. He’s about to add a silk red shirt to the pile but then the fragrance of it stops him. He bunches the soft fabric into his hands and buries his face into it, his body automatically relaxing as it recognizes the familiar scent of a warm home and warmer hugs, bringing images of deep laughter and honey smiles to his mind.
Jimin can’t even recall Taehyung wearing this, let alone him leaving this here, but it obviously sparks joy so there’s no way he’s throwing it out. He ties it around his shoulders and lets his mind drift off to warm hugs as he finishes his work.
Me
[Img]
Look what i found lol
Message not delivered.
Me
Seriously??
Message not delivered.
He hits a new low that week in the form of calling out the wrong name during sex. He can’t explain it, the sex is fine, he doesn’t have a single complaint with letting the guy on top of him ride him within an inch of his life. Yet on all levels except physical, something’s dissatisfying.
He slides his hands up his hips and over his abdomen, imagining instead soft skin meeting his fingers as he trails over a soft tummy. Imagines dark eyelashes damp with tears and cherry lips parted and panting out mewls and long fingers splayed out over Jimin’s chest. His thoughts heat up his body into a fervor and he thrusts a little faster, the intensified rhythm lulling him into the fantasy. “Ah, ah, Taehyung,” he gasps.
The guy stills. “What?”
Jimin opens his eyes slowly and is pulled back to the present. “Huh?”
The guy takes his hands off of Jimin’s chest. “Did you forget my name?”
“Oh, sorry, oh my god. Oh my god.”
“No, it’s cool, uh, I’m not mad. I get it. Thinking about someone else is normal.”
“Yeah.” Nope. Nope, thinking about someone that looked remotely similar to Taehyung and then happening to call his name out during sex is super not normal.
They sit in silence, unsure what to do. The guy’s dick is softening on Jimin’s stomach.
“Do you want to continue?”
“...No, not really. Sorry.” Jimin thinks it’d be easier to die than get his dick back up.
“It’s okay.”
It is definitely not okay. Jimin’s world is on fire. What the fuck? What the fuck?? No, no no no, he can’t be dealing with this right now. His subconscious was just focused on Taehyung because he hasn’t called in a few days and he’s worried. Yeah, that’s it. That’s probably it. There is no other logical reason why Jimin would call out his best bro’s name as he was about to cum into someone who was definitely not Taehyung. Because Jimin definitely does not want to cum into Tae- okay, he’s going to stop thinking now. And he’s going to stop thinking about this for the rest of his life. Actually, maybe he should just not have sex for the rest of his life and then something like this could never ever happen again. Yeah, that seems like a better idea than dealing with the underlying reason for why he called out Taehyung’s name at all.
Forget, forget, forget, forget. He presses really hard on the sides of his head to pop those perverted thoughts out of his head like a pimple, but all he accomplishes is getting his headache to jump from ‘just take an advil’ to ‘there is literally nothing in the world worse than what you have just done, you gross, lonely, horny man, and you deserve a slow and painful end.’
Jimin does his best to best to flush his mind of Taehyung, but that’s quite a challenge when literally everything in his apartment leads his mind back trailing back to him. He can’t lie down and watch a movie without remembering how he’d promised Taehyung he’d wait until he got back so they could watch it together, curled up under blankets and sharing way too many honey butter chips than should be physically capable of two men nearing their thirties. He gives up trying to focus on the movie when his mind wanders to tangled up legs and whispery giggles underneath the intimate cover of blankets and goes back to cleaning up around his flat. He takes a spray bottle and squirts the potted plants on his balcony, the trickle of droplets down thick succulent leaves to gather in the rosette having a calming effect on him. There. He can totally manage to do something without his thoughts wandering off to… nevermind. Humming to himself, he gives Poporo, his most cherished chrysanthemum, an extra spritz because she’s his favorite daughter out of all the plants he and Taehyung had adopted.
“…”
Jimin flings his spray bottle across the balcony like it’s poison.
The harder Jimin tries not to think about him, the harder it is to keep him off his mind. It's like trying to forget about the time your teacher flashed you or trying not to lose The Game. Taehyung is a Top 40 Hits song that Jimin swore he wasn't a fan of but can't seem to stop humming, biting his tongue down every time he catches himself singing along to a tune that he doesn't even like, not like that, well he likes it but he doesn't like like it. He just likes it. That's it.
Even when he retreats to his room, he’s greeted by the sight of Taehyung’s red silk pajama shirt lounging mockingly across his pillows like an expectant lover who knows he’s done something dirty.
Jimin scowls. “Shut up!” he seethes, because yes, he has resorted to swearing at inanimate objects now. He balls up the shirt and kicks it under his bed to rid his sight of its evilness. He collapses on top of his bed with a loud groan, letting the bounce of the mattress under his weight rock him up and down.
Jimin breathes in deeply through his nose, pretending each exhale is expelling negativity from his body, starting from his toes and then working his way up until he reaches the top of his head. He repeats this again until his body and mind are finally relaxed and free of tension. He pushes his body weight down into the mattress to continue shaking it, a habit that transcended from simply shaking his leg to allow his body to release tension and help him fall asleep. Jimin grinds his hips down backwards and his breath hitches at the light friction.
Still dissatisfied from earlier that day, Jimin figures it couldn’t hurt to just get off and be done with it. He pushes his shirt up and slides his hand down from his neck, across his chest, brushing his nipples, down his navel, down, down, down. His fingers trail along the inside of his thighs, dancing over delicate skin and teasing, teasing, teasing. He lets his eyes flutter closed and slips the waistband of his underwear down, just an inch, just past the head of his cock. Each grinding motion of his hips has the waistband tease him just enough to make his mind fuzzy with want.
Fingers trace back up to his chest and gently pad at his nipples. Jimin whines at the touch, wanting so much more, wanting those fingers to press him down and caress his body. Wants those hands to glide down his curves, wants those cherry red lips to suck him dry, to kiss him softly and make him beg for it, wants those thighs to spread him apart so he can slot his body against Jimin’s, so Jimin can hold him in his arms as they rock against the mattress.
Jimin gasps, grabs one of his pillows and slots it between his legs so he can bring himself over the edge. It feels a little juvenile, a little like he’s 18 and figuring out how to masturbate all over again as he ruts against the pillow and dreams of being pressed down into the bed, but sometimes going back to the classics can’t be beat.
He’s shaking hard, panting and thinking of being kissed up and down his neck as he grinds against the pillow, a heat building in his groin as sweat drips down his brow. He imagines Taehyung’s hands, Taehyung’s cherry lips kissing his tears away, Taehyung’s thighs spreading him apart and absolutely wrecking him as he wraps his hands around-
“Hnngh, no,” Jimin hisses. “No, no, start over.” He wipes his palms on the bedsheets and takes a deep breath, clearing his mind before flipping over on his hands and knees. No thinking about someone this time. No thoughts at all, just lose himself in the feeling. He begins to hump the pillow with long, slow strokes and eventually picks up the pace when that's not enough anymore. Soon enough he's getting closer again, so close and so needy and panting with his face pressed into the mattress. Without realizing, he lets his mind, hazy with lust, wander off to a certain someone pushing him down and milking him as he ruts into the pillow.
Jimin knows he's way too close to the edge to stop without it being unsatisfying, his building orgasm already almost painful from the edging. He tries to whisk away the thoughts of Taehyung sliding against him, but he's so close and so sensitive and wants it so so so bad. He bites his lip hard and wills for Taehyung to go away so he just finish in peace.
“Please, Tae, just… agh, fuck. Please, wanna cum.” Desperately, Jimin fucks into the pillow and chokes back a sob, just wanting it to be over.
Imaginary Taehyung isn't quite through with him yet, and leans over to whisper words of encouragement in his ear. It’s okay baby, come now, you’re okay. You're okay. Jimin cries out as he releases all over himself, waves of heat and pleasure shaking him until he’s a puddle of limp limbs and shame.
He flops onto his back and covers is eyes with his arm, too ashamed to even look at the ceiling. You know who's probably looking at a ceiling right now? Taehyung, that's who. And he doesn't even realize that his best friend just got off to the thought of him, 5,953 miles across the ocean, like some sick freak. At least Taehyung doesn't know, and Jimin can quietly melt into the earth with half a teaspoon of dignity.
He checks his phone to make sure he didn't accidentally send a voice message text or have Alexa call him while he was… regretfully, calling out Taehyung's name. Zero messages. Jimin breathes easy, until he checks his mail.
Inbox (1)
It's from Taehyung, he knows it. He found out. Oh god, how is Jimin going to explain this to him. Did he accidentally email him nudes? No, that's Jin-hyung he's thinking about. Jimin doesn't email jpg nudes, he's classier than that.
He glances down at the cooling cum on his stomach.
Okay, he's kinda classy. Not that much. At least more than Jin-hyung.
With one last inhale he shuts his eyes and taps the email open before he can chicken out.
From: [email protected]
JIMIN IM SO SORRRRRYYYYYY
JIMINIJIMINNNNNN JIMINNNNN IM SO SO SOWWY !!!!!! i think i forgot to change my data plan so i’m not getting any of ur texts :(( im only assuming u tried texting me because if you haven’t ur a terrible friend and i can’t believe u. But if u did then im sorry bub </3 i didn’t forget you. I only get wifi when i’m at the hotel so i think i’ll only be able to reply to email or videochat at night. Send this to the others or you’ll get 10 years of bad luck!!
Love u much,
Taehyung
Oh. Was that all it was. He had nothing to worry about. How silly of him to think he had somehow accidentally delivered sexual content to his friend via voice activated technology. Either way, he disables Siri from his phone before replying.
From: [email protected]
Re: JIMIN IM SO SORRRRRYYYYYY
Literally ur an asshole for not getting data ahead of time.
Love u 2 i guess,
Jimin
From: [email protected]
Re: Re: JIMIN IM SO SORRRRRYYYYYY
U replied so fast wow!! U must’ve been thinking about me a lot then huh ;))
From: [email protected]
Re: Re: Re: JIMIN IM SO SORRRRRYYYYYY
N
From: [email protected]
Re: Re: Re: Re: JIMIN IM SO SORRRRRYYYYYY
No.
From:ktaehyung09 @kku.alum.edu
Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: JIMIN IM SO SORRRRRYYYYYY
Um. r u ok. Did u forget how to type within the 72 hours i’ve been gone.
Taehyung is videocalling…
Jimin drops his vibrating phone in a panic and sprints into the bathroom to wash himself up first so as not to tip off Taehyung with the lewd state he’s in. Tripping over the legs of his pants as he shimmies them back on, he slides back onto his bed and reaches his phone right as the call request ends. He grumbles and hits the dial back immediately, Taehyung picking up after the first ring.
“If you didn’t want to videochat you could’ve just told me,” Taehyung laughs easily from the other side of the line.
Every knot tied up in Jimin’s stomach is gone, his insides untangling at the sound of Taehyung’s breezy voice. It carries with it the sweet scent of saltwater from across desolate dunes, misting him with the reminder of summer and sweet berries under dusky skies, hand in hand and heart in heart.
“Hey,” Jimin says back, covering his lips and smiling like a student on the phone with their crush. Best friend. Same thing. At this point it doesn’t matter, let what will be as it will be. He doesn’t need a label, Taehyung is Taehyung is Taehyung to him. Jimin’s Taehyung and Taehyung’s Jimin.
They try to talk for as long as the harsh time difference will allow them, making up for lost time in the form of half-told stories, some old and some new, cutting in and out of each other’s narratives until one of them ends up finishing the other’s tale. Taehyung complains about the lack of Korean supermarkets near his hotel, not that his room has a full kitchen anyway, and not like he knows how to cook half as well as Jimin, who then offers him some of the frozen tteokbokki currently thawing in his fridge. Taehyung gratefully accepts the generous offer from his benevolent savior.
They laugh.
And for three hours, everything feels a little bit lighter.
And for three hours, sixteen minutes, and six seconds Jimin listens to Taehyung’s voice slowing into thick molasses, fighting the sleep to continue talking to him, even if they’re not really saying anything.
“Tae. Sleep,” Jimin hums into the speaker. His phone is propped on a pillow near his head, letting him stretch out the cracks in his bones as he arches his back to bring feeling back to his body.
Taehyung doesn’t take much convincing. “Hng... Okay.” He snorts and Jimin hears the soft drop of the phone into the covers, quickly followed by the soft snores of a baby tiger.
Jimin chuckles and covers his eyes, whispers goodnight to him, pauses before hanging up, wishes him sweet dreams as well, before finally ending the call.
And after three hours, thirty one minutes, and ten years, Jimin realizes that something has changed.
***
Missing Taehyung is building a sand castle on his own while he waits for the tide to come back in. He knows the water is going to absolutely destroy everything when it returns, but that's not something he wants to think about right now. That's something he'll deal with when the tide comes back.
He's beginning to think about how insignificant his life is, and that's not good. He needs a hobby besides picking up guys and being an amateur movie critic, something that Taehyung could come back to and be just as proud of Jimin's accomplishments as Jimin is of his. Something that would make this month not feel like a waste of loneliness and confusing emotions.
“Namjoonie-hyung, I want to work here.” Jimin plops himself down in front of Namjoon’s desk and slaps his knees with determination.
Yoongi and Namjoon look up at Jimin’s sudden announcement and divert their attention from some forms they’re going over.
“Don’t you already work here?” Yoongi’s face scrunches up in confusion. “Wait. Joon-ah, where have my birthday checks for Jimin been going?”
Namjoon ignores him. “Jimin, you know I’m not the manager, right? I work in Human Resources. I just sign off on candidates after I interview them, I’m not the one who hands out jobs. I really only oversee HR staffing.”
“Didn’t you offer Jin-hyung a job after you slept together?” Jimin teases with one of the (many) hot office rumors about him and Jin’s vaguely defined flirtationship. (Flirtationship= flirting relationship. It’s a word now, Jimin coined it in 2008. Look it up.)
Namjoon sputters and burns bright red at this accusation. “I didn’t! No, no, no, never. I never slept with Jin-hyung. And I didn’t offer him his job anyway, he’s been working here for way longer than I have.” He looks over to Yoongi for backup. “Hyung, I have never slept with Jin, I swear.”
Yoongi pats his shoulder. “We know, Joon, we know. You wouldn’t be like this if you had.”
“Thank you- wait, what is that supposed to mean?”
Yoongi and Jimin exchange a look that translates roughly to: you wouldn’t be such a nervous failing wreck around him all the time if you had gotten laid just once. Luckily, Namjoon is not fluent in the art of talking shit with his eyes.
“Jimin, apologize please,” Yoongi instructs.
Jimin rolls his eyes but does so anyway. “Sorry, hyung, you’re right. I forgot Jin-hyung is old as shit and has been working here since the dinosaurs.”
“Er, thanks.” Namjoon accepts his half-assed, half-diss apology. “Why do you want a new job, anyway?”
“No, but seriously, Jimin hasn’t been working here for all these years? Why the hell are you always here?” Yoongi goes unanswered. “Guys? The birthday checks?”
Jimin picks up a pen from Namjoon’s pencil cup and twirls it in his fingers. “I want the job because I'm motivated and need something larger in my life to challenge myself right now. I’ve spent the past four years shadowing personnel from almost every department in this company and know the ins and outs of the lingerie market better than any of your current interns. Trust me. They don’t have anything else interesting to talk about during pillow talk. You should write this down. Are you writing this down?”
Namjoon scrambles for a pen and notepad. “Oh! Um...”
Jimin snaps his fingers quickly. “Time is money, hyung. You two still have to finish filling out the forms to transfer Yongsun-noona from HR to marketing, right?”
Namjoon sweeps the papers under his elbow to block Jimin from looking at them. “How did you know that?” he asks with suspicion.
Jimin rolls his eyes. “I was part of the 3rd floor party planning committee for her going away party last week. Also, she told me there’s still an opening in HR because you guys haven’t found her replacement yet. It’s been, what, a month since she’s turned in her two week notice?” He clicks his tongue. “I’d be jumping on that if I were you, hyung. Higher ups wouldn’t take it too well knowing that you let a perfectly adequate candidate for the job slip through your hands.”
“And where exactly is this perfect candidate, Jimin-ssi?”
Jimin gestures to himself and beams.
“Seriously? Look, Jimin, I like you and all but you can’t just walk in here without any qualifications and just ask for a job.”
“Who said no qualifications?” Jimin reaches under his chair and plops three folders onto the desk.
“Where were you keeping these?” Namjoon looks underneath his own chair for any other hidden folders.
“Birth certificate, Bachelor’s degree, letters of recommendation and resumé. You can take your time and look over them but I’d like to hear back from you by tomorrow morning. I'd also like to ask you what you think it takes to have a successful career at this company. What have been the greatest challenges you’ve faced here? Why do you consider yourself qualified for this job?” Jimin clicks the pen in his tiny yet firm fist rapidly.
“Well, the red tape, certainly, is the most restricting-”
“Shibari? Interesting choice.”
“No. No.” Namjoon rubs his temple. “No. The excessive bureaucracy and constant pigeon holing of rejuvenating ideas from fresh minds are the biggest challenges of working here. The rich get richer and the younger generation of employees are forced to follow outdated regulations that they’re unable to change, so they leave for better job opportunities and we’re left with a constant change of hands and positions that need to be filled. Not to mention the fact that we are a business targeting women and consumers of feminine lingerie yet 78%. Seventy. Eight. Percent. Of our board of directors and primary investors are men. Where is the calculator, Jimin?? Because this is not adding up.” Namjoon stabs his finger into his desk with each word to emphasize his distaste.
“Thank you, Namjoon-hyung, that was very insightful-”
“And. The efforts of dedicated employees are not rewarded nearly as much as they should be. Look at Jin-hyung, I’ve been trying to get him a promotion for years. They’re willing to give me one, sure, but not one for him because he’s not ‘priority personnel.’ That man works harder than any other goddamn fool in this office.”
“This sounds like a lot of really... not good things. Why should I want to work here? Why do you even still want to work here, hyung?”
“Because… besides the schmucks upstairs, there are really good people that work here. There are people I’d really miss seeing everyday and working on a team with . Also… I could go months eating instant noodles and microwave rice but my aquarium can’t. I have a family to support and they’re depending on me to feed them,” Namjoon exhales sharply through his nose. “Honestly, a big part of it sucks, but I’m good with my job because I keep my head down and stick with it. Could you see yourself sticking with a job like this, Jimin?”
“Absolutely.”
“You can’t even stick with the same car for more than a month,” Yoongi interrupts. “Let alone the same guy. You’d really want a 9 to 5 job like this?”
“Absolutely,” Jimin repeats, more determined. “I’m here for the experience, not the paycheck.”
Namjoon lets out a deep exhale. “Honestly, I should just hire you, Jimin.”
“What would you have to lose? I’m filling in a position that’ll take more work off your shoulders so that you can focus on tackling the big fish and changing how things run around here from the inside out. How does that sound, hyung?”
Namjoon cradles his head in his hands, exhaustion pressing down on his back. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good, Jimin.”
“Great!” Jimin snaps up his folders and shoots Namjoon’s pen back into its cup. “I can start tomorrow. See you bright and early, hyung! Get some sleep, you look tired.” With a bright smile and a wink, Park Jimin vanishes out the door.
Namjoon stares down blankly at his hands as he processes what he’s just promised. “Did I just give Jimin an interview?”
Yoongi places his hand solemnly on Namjoon’s shoulder. “I think Jimin just interviewed you , Joon-ah.”
***
“ Theeere's my little office worker!” Hoseok struts down the narrow hallway with shopping bags in both arms and a Chanel fanny pack across his waist. “Mommy's brought congrats-on-your-first-day-at-work presents for you!”
“Hoseokie-hyung!” Jimin calls back, not getting up from his seat. “Please don't ever call yourself that again!”
Hoseok stops at Jin's cubicle and leans against the entryway. “And my my my, who do we have here? Hey there gorgeous, come here often?” He winks at Jin and laughs when his wink gets swatted out of the air.
“Sorry, didn't want it to get caught in my eye. Because then I couldn't undress you with them,” Jin plays along and blows a kiss. Hoseok pretends to catch it on his tongue like a snowflake and swallow it.
He licks his lips. “Yum.”
“Will you guys get OUT!” Jimin cries.
Hoseok throws his head back to laugh. “Don't worry Jimin-ah, I'm not putting this guy on the will just yet.”
Jin stands up to leave, whining all the way. “Seok, please? That's literally the only thing I've ever asked of you as a friend. All you have to do is add me as one of your beneficiaries and I can quit this cruddy job!”
“Oh, is that all? Would you like me to share my bank account passwords with you as well?” Hoseok tilts his sunglasses down and slides his fingers up Jin's disgusting polyester tie.
Jin pulls at one of Hoseok's belt loops. “Well, if you're offering…”
“OUT.” Jimin jabs his finger at the hallway.
“Fine, fine, we're going!” Jin leads Hoseok out into the hall before spinning on his heels and marching right back in. “Wait, this is my office, you guys get out!”
Jimin huffs and rolls off the yoga ball. “C'mon, hyung. Let's open the presents in my office where we won't be distracted by cougar sugar babies.”
“Alright, alright, well nice meeting you, stranger! Maybe next time we meet we can pick up where we left off, eh?”
Jin sends flying finger hearts and Hoseok flicks them all out of the air.
“Literally why are you guys like this,” Jimin grumbles and drags Hoseok around the corner to lead him into his own office which, unfortunately, still shares a corner with Jin.
Hoseok shoves the bags into his arms once they enter. “Open them, open them!”
“Hyung, you really didn't have to get me anything. I can buy things myself, you know,” Jimin sighs, heaving the gifts onto his already messy desk. He turns and notices Hoseok's bottom lip trembling and immediately waves his hands. “But I love it when you surprise me, hyung! You're really the best and I love you and your expensive presents so much!!! So much! Please don't cry, okay?”
Hoseok brightens up and wraps Jimin in a hug, ruffling his hair and giving him a noogie. “Aww Jimin why are you so sweet today? Is it because Taehyung's gone and you have no one to shower with affection?”
“It's because he hasn't gotten laid in a week!” Jin calls over the divider.
Jimin sighs into Hoseok's arms. “It's true.”
“My poor baby. Here, look what I got you, maybe that'll cheer you up.”
He reaches a hand out to rummage around one of the gift bags and pulls out a Bacon Bowl maker. Uh. Jimin unceremoniously pulls gadget after gadget out of the bags until his desk is overflowing with As Seen On TV gizmos and tissue paper. “What did… you buy…”
“I always see these on eBay and they look freaking awesome but it said they're recommended for office use, and since I don't have an office I never had an excuse to buy them all to try them out. Until today.”
“When would I, or anyone on this earth, use this Piggy Pop pigs in a blanket maker or this … what even is this? An egg dildo machine? When would I use these for the office?”
“Hey! Don't question my future husband's taste in office essentials. It's classy, timeless, and I, for one, would love a fresh egg dildo in between taking calls. These customer complaints are already fucking me over, am I right? Treat.” Jin holds his hand up in the air and catches the stick of gum Hoseok rewards him with.
“Some of these things are actually for an office though!” Hoseok holds up giant cat paw shaped sticky notes and a hole puncher that punches out hearts. “But you're right. You wouldn't find these things in a normal office.” He unzips his fanny pack and slides his pair of impossibly tiny shades back onto his face. “You'd only find them in a cool office.”
“Or a breakfast bar. Actually...” Jimin pauses. “That’s not such a bad idea…”
Hoseok begins pumping up one of the inflatable sac chairs he brought in the bag. “How did you even land this sick setup, anyway? You’ve literally never worked a day in your life.”
“I just mirrored everything Namjoon-hyung said and answered all his questions with more questions. Class A smooching.” The A stands for ass. Jimin actually forgot to bring his resume so he just shoved Pentagon fanchants in a folder and snatched it back before Namjoon got a good look at it. He’d like to see Namjoon fire him after he’s already moved into his office with— he looks into the bag— glow in the dark plastic succulents.
Namjoon pops his head into the cubicle. “You did what now?”
Jimin flings his Snuggie owner’s manual into the air. “Jeez! Why are you always lurking around here?”
“Heard my name, all good in here? By the way, Jimin, someone left a flower wreath at the front desk for you.”
Hoseok raises his hand, eyes twinkling. “That was me! Guilty as charged.” His light laughter causes Namjoon to choke and dribble out some of his coffee.
“Oh my god. It's you,” Namjoon breathes. He tries to blot out the coffee stains on his shirt with his tie and sets his mug down. “Hi. Hi. How are you?”
“It is me!” Hoseok agrees. He tilts his head and smiles politely. “And who are you?”
“Hyung, this is Namjoon from HR. Namjoon from HR, this is Hoseokie-hyung,” Jimin introduces as he dunks a ball of bubble wrap into his recycling.
“I'm from the wedding, remember? You, uh-” Namjoon clears his throat. “That's where you… introduced yourself to me.” He pulls at his tie to loosen his collar and coughs into his fist.
“‘Introduced yourself’ is a funny way to say ‘gave a lap dance,’ hyung.” Jimin picks at his nails. He slides down into his chair already knowing no work is getting done today. What a way to kick off his career in lingerie HR.
Hoseok frowns. “I gave you a lap dance? Weird. I usually remember their faces afterward.”
“You give lap dances that often?” Namjoon slaps himself on the thigh as soon as the words leave his mouth. “Why did I ask that. That was weird, I'm sorry. No, it was really just a normal introduction. Jimin.”
“What?” Jimin shrugs and Namjoon sighs.
“I mean, it was less of an introduction and more like we sang noraebang together for a bit. I didn't get your name. I tried to find you after the reception but I think you took off.”
“Hold up, no way.” Hoseok gives a little gasp and covers his mouth.
“So you do remember me?” Namjoon smiles and tries to smoothly lean against Jimin's desk but miscalculates how far he is from the edge and hits his head on the cabinet.
“You're Troy! I'm Gabriella!” Hoseok snaps his fingers.
“No, hyung. You're Hoseok, he's Namjoon.”
“Shut the fuck up, Jimin, I'm talking about like in the movie.” Hoseok glares daggers at Jimin. “But awww, how romantic! Honestly, I don't remember you or this wedding at all, but still. Romantic!”
“Whoa whoa whoa. What wedding was this? Do you guys have a mutual friend who got married or something?” Jin barges into the conversation all the way from his cubicle, demanding to be included in this.
“Oh, no. Hardly. I was just the officiant,” Namjoon replies as if that were the most obvious piece of information shared in their group.
“What the hell? Since when do you officiate weddings?” Jimin asks.
Namjoon smoothly pulls out a business card and hands it to Jimin. “Since two months ago. It's a side gig. Spread the word, tell your friends. First two ceremonies are discounted.”
“Which friends would I even tell, I don't know anyone getting married. And who gets married enough times they'd need a stamp card?” Jimin squints at the card with suspicion. “This says you work for cake only.”
“Some couples can't afford to get a real ordained minister or file the paperwork to get a friend ordained, so I like to accept my pay in something they'd be throwing out at the end anyway.”
“Wow,” Hoseok says in awe. “That's actually really sweet of you.”
“You're just doing it for the cake, aren't you,” Jimin accuses.
Namjoon hides his hands behind his back. “No…”
“Hyung, I've seen you sneak down to the 2nd floor and steal birthday cake from people you don't even work with.”
“Ok, that was like maybe two times and both times they were the pieces Yoongi-hyung was saving. Cake is expensive okay! And the newlyweds usually give me four slices, five if I write a ceremony script that makes the front row cry.”
“Aww, that's still… sweet. I guess,” Hoseok says, less in awe this time.
“Wait, hyung, what were you doing at that wedding?” Jimin swivels in his chair exactly ninety degrees to face Hoseok, his leg resting over his knee and fingers steeped together inquisitively like a maniacal Sherlock Holmes piecing together the events of this mystery meeting.
“Yeah! What were you doing at the wedding!” Jin jives from the next door cubicle, always a slut for gossip.
Namjoon ignores Jin's interjection. “He was the entertainer and the MC. Beautiful voice, although I did find his rendition of My Heart Will Go On very… emotional for the overall theme of the wedding.”
“Sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else. I don't sing at weddings? At least I don't think I have. Hyung?” Hoseok calls over the cubicle wall.
“You sing Celine Dion when you get drunk, Seok, you probably stumbled in there and crashed a party again,” Jin calls back.
“Hm. Yep, sounds like me.” Hoseok nods.
“I'm sorry, pardon?”
“I tend to follow the life of the party when I get drunk so I've been known to crash a few parties. A wedding though, whoo, that's new. And you said I sang and MC'd?” He pats himself on the back. “Way to go, me.”
“Oh, you did much more than just sing and MC.” Namjoon whistles lowly at his recollection of the night. His face immediately crumples in shame. “Who am I becoming, what is this place doing to me…” he mutters into his hands. “I'm so sorry. I think I need to. Go take a walk. To the basement. And maybe just live there for the rest of my life. Hoseok-ssi, lovely meeting you, again. Jimin, please keep your breakfast bar sound level to a minimum during peak nap hours, thank you. I'm leaving now, goodbye.”
Jimin clicks his tongue as they all watch Namjoon scutter away into the nearest elevator and repeatedly slam the close button until the last sliver of his mortified red face slips away. “He shouldn't try to go to the basement. Taemin lives down there.”
“Taemin from the basement? The one you said eats ants?”
“Yeah, that Taemin from the basement. He might eat ants but goddamn,” Jimin sighs, “if he isn't the sexiest goddamn anteater on the planet.”
“Mmmm, I think this Namjoon guy is hotter, I like him.”
“Sometimes he overheats and his brain melts out of his ears, though.”
“That's alright, I love me men who are tall, dumb, and ready to get pegged.”
“What about me!” Jin cries. He's sitting on top of his cabinet to peep over the cubicle walls now. “I am literally the entire package deal, what more could you want? Tall, slightly above average intelligence, and hey, I've never been pegged before, but don't knock it till you try it.” He crosses his arms over his chest.
“I don't date customers, sorry, rules are rules.”
“ You forced me to buy your stupid baby prediction app!”
Hoseok shrugs again. “Rules are rules. Why don't you try to get on Jimin's will? He owns like 45% of my stocks so mathematically he should make at least 45% of what I'm worth.”
Jimin thinks that logic is probably not right but doesn't bother saying anything because he's 45% positive Jin also has a thing for dumbasses.
Jin looks baffled and mildly offended. “Do you think so little of me that you think I would try to hit on a taken man?”
“Who am I taken by?” Jimin asks.
“Taehyung,” they both answer.
“Kim Taehyung,” Hoseok adds again, for emphasis, in case Jimin wasn't clear on which Taehyung he was most definitely spiritually and emotionally captivated by.
“...” Jimin spins his chair around quickly and clicks through his emails.
“OH MY GOD HE DIDN'T DENY IT THIS TIME.”
Hoseok rushes forward and spins Jimin back around. “Jimin-ah, Jimin-ah, are you feeling okay? Look at hyung, how many fingers am I holding up? What month is it?” Hoseok lifts his bangs to check his temperature. “Hyung, he doesn't have a fever but I can't tell because my hands are getting sweaty, get over here and check him out.”
Jin is already climbing over his cubicle. “On it!”
“Are you an idiot? Go around!”
“I may be an idiot, but I'm your idiot, and your idiot is trying to get fired.” He throws his leg over and the entire conglomerate of cubicles shakes violently under his weight. “Oh shit but I'm not trying to die, getting off it.”
“Stop! You guys are embarrassing me, get off!” Jimin pushes Hoseok's hands away from his face. “I'm fine, I promise. Nothing to get worried about.”
Jin rushes into Jimin's office, hands on his knees as he catches his breath. “Any updates?”
Hoseok lifts Jimin's bangs again. “His case of Feelings Denial seems to be in remission but he's caught a serious strain of the Lovebug.”
When Jimin responds with silence, the two of them go into another fit of panic.
“You admit it? You've figured it out?”
“Has the day finally come? I'm not ready, I need a moment. Where's my camera?”
Jimin is seriously considering hiring a lawyer to acquit him of murder charges when his hyungs embrace in a dramatic fashion, sobbing into each other's shoulders.
“Will you guys shut up. Please.” He means to be threatening, but it comes out in a tired voice. Reading the mood, the two instantly let go of each other and sober up.
“Jimin, is there really something wrong?” Jin lowers himself to Jimin's line of sight and gently places a hand on his knee. “We're sorry for teasing.”
“No, it's okay, it's just… it's been a confusing week. Taehyung hasn't called me yet and it's just given me a lot of time to think about things.” About him. About us. Jimin doesn't dare mention that out loud out of fear of making those things feel too real. “I'm just a bit tired. I guess I've been doing a lot of soul searching lately.” He pauses to wait for someone to make a joke about him searching for his soulmate, but the two seem to be taking him seriously.
“It'll be okay, bud. Taehyung will call eventually.” Hoseok coos and pets his hair down to soothe him. It works, a little bit. Jimin leans into the touch and sighs.
“I'm not even upset that he hasn't called, if anything I'm happy he's been so busy because that means he's been working hard and making the most out of this experience and that makes me happy. Really.” He shrugs halfheartedly. “I dunno. He's just never been gone for so long so I've never had a chance to miss him so much before.”
“We're here for you if you want to talk about it,” Jin offers. “We are also here for you if you want to go out and get trashed instead of dealing with feelings. Which do you want?”
Jimin pouts. “Alcohol, please.”
“I figured. Call Yoongi and Jungkook too? Make it a boys night?”
Jungkook is ecstatic at the invitation. Yoongi, not so much.
“Hyung, it's a Thursday.” He glances at his passengers through the rearview mirror and repeats himself, more slowly. “It's a Thursday and you are making me drive all of us to a bar that is a ten minute walk from the office.”
“Yes, Yoongi. That is correct.”
“Ten minutes.”
“Again, correct as always.”
“Thank you for the ride, hyung!” Jungkook pipes up from the passenger seat. “It was nice of you to insist on driving us.”
“I insisted on driving you, Jungkook. These clowns just shoved themselves in the backseat before I could start the car fast enough.” Yoongi squints at the road in distaste.
“I can see why you didn't offer, this car is smaller than a toilet stall.” Jin shifts his shoulders uncomfortably, wedged tight between Hoseok and Jimin. “Why does Jungkook get the front seat?”
“Because he has the longest legs,” Yoongi grumbles.
“Or maybe it's because he's your fav-”
Yoongi slams on the breaks and everyone goes flying forward. “We're here, everyone get out.”
It's happy hour, drinks are passed around, and singles mix and match through the crowd with heart-shaped post-it-notes displayed on their shirts in the most elementary fashion of human courtship. Happy hour, why do they even call it that. Jimin can think of no happy reason why a person would come to a place like this on a Thursday between 3 to 6 and get drunk on watered down scotch.
He gets handed a drink, then another. He turns down the fourth one, his stomach and liver not quite as strong as they had been in college, or all the subsequent years following where Jimin recklessly spent his new small fortune on parties and flashy accessories. Those things never really mattered to him, anyway, and he isn't quite sure who he was trying to impress with them.
Was it Taehyung? He spins a ring around his pointer finger mindlessly. No, it couldn't have been. Taehyung isn't attracted to money, he doesn't care about that kind of stuff. He cares about people. He cares about the love that money can't buy, the art that doesn't hang in museums but rather around the hearts of each person, painted ever so uniquely by each breath of the artist's soul as they live and grow and collide into other souls along their journey.
That's the type of people Kim Taehyung loves.
Jimin wonders what kind of people he loves.
He loves his friends. He loves their commitment to being ridiculous about how hopelessly in love they are with each other. He loves how he can go to any one of them with the same question and all of them would be able to guide him to the right path in their own way. He loves this ragtag family he found in the office of a mid-range lingerie brand HQ, one he never would have found had he not called to file a complaint about their cheap lace quality all those years ago.
“Hyung. Hyung look. I can balance this onion ring on my head then catch it in my mouth, look,” Jungkook says. Jin swipes it off his head and shoves it in his mouth before he can toss it, claiming he doesn't know where it went as Jungkook begins to punch him.
He absolutely loves his family.
As much as his friends have been doing their best to cheer him up, Jimin can't help but check his phone every few seconds for any missed calls. Restlessness creeps into his thoughts to the point where shaking his leg can't dispel his nervous energy anymore, so he gets up to excuse himself from the table and take a walk.
He's admiring a linocut print of neon lights hanging just outside the bathroom when someone taps his shoulder. Jimin instinctively steps out of the way to let the person pass and only looks at his face when he doesn't make a move to get past him.
“I like your nametag. You got any cats?” The stranger points at Jimin's chest in reference to the cat paw post-it that Hoseok must've sneakily stuck on him earlier that day. Jimin glances at the stranger's heart-shaped nametag— Sungha —and realizes the mistake that's been made.
He's about to politely inform him that he is actually not a part of this speed-dating circle, but then closes his mouth and thinks better of it. It's been a rough week, he deserves to have some fun.
But there is no fun to be had, apparently, with Sungha. Their conversation about cats ends quickly and with no remarkability. The same goes for his conversation with Dojoon. And Jaehyung. And Minhyuk, and the guy with the baggy pants, and the boy who tried to show off his juggling skills and every other man who approached Jimin that night with the intent of pursuing his heart (or his ass—he can't blame them).
It's not that there's anything particularly terrible about this selection of men—a few weeks ago Jimin would've jumped on any of them in a heartbeat—it's just that none of them were particularly... great. He doesn't know when he became so picky about the little things; the way they cross their ankles or adjust their glasses or push back their hair, something just wasn't right. They weren't doing it right. Their presence felt flimsy, like a gust of wind could toss them aside and Jimin would've kept on talking to the air because he hadn't realized they'd been blown away.
Jimin knows he isn't exactly being the most perfect date either, and decides to call it quits when Guy #8 can't stop rolling his eyes and huffing every time Jimin checks his phone.
He leaps up when he feels vibrations set off from an incoming call and excuses himself from the table to take it. Crouching in a poorly lit corner of the bar, he answers the videocall with sweaty palms.
And there he is. Taehyung, in all his towel-ruffled, dressed for bed, droopy eyed glory, pops up on the screen as if he had never popped out of Jimin's life. Jimin almost sobs from how badly he's missed seeing this face.
A smile breaks out on Jimin's face, so wide he can't contain his excitement. “Hi. Hi, hi, baby, how are you? Hi.”
Taehyung is still staring at the screen with delayed reaction, eyes blinking robotically as his motions lag from the poor connection.
“Tae, can you hear me?”
“...min-ah…hear me?”
“I think the connection's bad.”
Taehyung watches expectantly, waiting for his feed to catch up. A minute passes. “No shit.”
Jimin hurries to his feet and lifts his phone above his head for a signal. Why, of all times, does Korea's 4G choose now to be a little bitch? He waves his arm. “Can you hear me now?”
The screen still lags, although with clearer resolution. “Put me down! I can see your crunchy roots from here. It's making my scalp sad.”
Jimin lets it slide, just this once, just because it's Taehyung and Jimin lets him get away with everything. “I miss you. So much.”
“What'd you say? Why's it so loud over there? Where are you?” The screen freezes on an image of Taehyung blinking and Jikin cackles, taking a screenshot for future blackmail.
“Some speed-dating bar or something.”
The screen doesn't unfreeze and Jimin waits for Taehyung's reply.
“Tae? Still there?”
“...Yeah. I heard.”
He tries to ask about his day but Taehyung's replies are getting slower and choppier, until eventually Jimin can't even connect his broken syllables to make out words.
The call ends after a few unfruitful minutes and Taehyung's blinking face fades away with the call.
Me
Goodnight
Love you
Message not delivered.
***
Hoseok elbows Jin and points across the room at one of the customers sitting at the bar. “Hey, isn't that Namjoon from HR? I'm gonna go hit on him,” he whispers.
“Yeah, good luck. That guy's so shy. I can hardly get him to look me in the eye when we talk,” Jin scoffs.
Hoseok slaps his back and grins. “Watch the master.”
They watch with mild anticipation from behind a barricade of tall menus as Hoseok saunters over to Namjoon and sits himself down in the stool next to him.
“Do you think Namjoon-hyung would be upset that we didn't invite him?” Jungkook whispers to the others when he ducks his head behind the menu.
At that moment Hoseok points back to their table and waves wildly. Namjoon meekly waves from behind him.
“Oh. Too late. He saw us.”
Jin isn't paying too much attention to Hoseok and Namjoon, instead glossing over the appetizer section with disinterest. He couldn't care less what those two choose to do together, it's not like it's any of his business anyway. He's interrupted by Jungkook tapping him roughly on the arm.
“What?” He swats Jungkook's hand away.
“Hyung. Look.”
“I'm busy.”
“You should really look, hyung,” Yoongi agrees.
Jin rolls his eyes and lowers the menu to see what all the fuss is about and- oh. Namjoon and Hoseok are making out in a very PG-18 manner against the bar, way more enthusiastically than should be allowed at a public establishment at 5:30 on a Thursday, in his opinion. He sticks out the tip of his tongue in disgust.
“Jin-hyung, are you okay?” Jungkook asks.
Jin keeps a straight face and turns toward him, but continues to watch the two of them feel up each other under their shirts from the corner of his eye. “Why wouldn't I be.”
“I mean. Namjoon-hyung from HR, Hoseokie-hyung… don't you… aren't you kinda… both of them? I mean, right? Hyung?” He looks at Yoongi for help.
“Don't you like both of them?” Yoongi asks.
Jin throws back another shot and chases it with a bite of lime, the bitterness crinkling his lips into a scowl. “Of course not. Hoseok's a friend. Namjoon's a colleague. That's that.”
Yoongi and Jungkook drop the subject, knowing pushing him would only make him more resolute in his stubbornness. When Hoseok decides to invite Namjoon back to their table to join them, Jin sits rigidly and tries not to look either of them in the eye, ears burning noticeably red whenever Hoseok trails his hand up Namjoon's pecs or when Namjoon brushes the inside of Hoseok's thigh. His only salvation is watching Jungkook get progressively drunker and progressively more embarrassing around Yoongi.
“A way to a man’s heart is his stomach,” Jungkook slurs and taps his glass on the table. “And a way to his stomach is through his a-”
“Thank you, Jungkook, for the anatomy lesson. I think we get what you were trying to say,” Namjoon cuts him off.
Jungkook giggles into his sweater paws. He feels really really good, but also like pure and utter shit and if someone even looks at him there’s a good chance he might just puke all over them. The alcohol he drank was way too bitter, how can Yoongi even swallow that poison? Gosh, Yoongi-hyung is just so cool. Jungkook wishes he could be that cool. Jungkook also wishes he had some hot greasy food in his mouth right now, like- ohhhhh, fried chicken sounds so good. He wants fried chicken.
“Hyung,” Jungkook calls out to no one in particular and squirms upright against the plastic cushion from where he was slumped over in the booth. “Let’s go. We need to get chicken. Time to go.”
“It’s time for you to go to sleep, Jungkook-ah. Let’s get you home.”
“Nuh-uh.” Jungkook pouts. “I’m so awake right now, look.” Jungkook cracks his eyes open a teeny bit to show how wide awake he is and promptly squeezes them shut when the overwhelming colors and lights make him dizzy.
“C’mon, hyung will take you home.”
Gentle arms help Jungkook out of the booth and support him until they get into the taxi. This person’s hair tickles Jungkook’s nose as he reaches across him to buckle his seatbelt. Before he closes the door, Jungkook reaches out to take his hands; even without opening his eyes he could tell it’s Yoongi from his cologne. Sweet and spicy and everything nicey.
“Jungkook?”
Jungkook hums and sways softly in his seat, a little drunk on liquor, a little drunk on cologne, a little drunk in love. His cheeks are still buzzing from the hype of the night and his lips feel loose and easy. “Mmm. Bye hyung, love you.”
Yoongi freezes for a moment, processing Jungkook’s drunken words. He chuckles. “Alright, thanks, Kook. Let’s get you home now.” He squeezes his hand once before placing it on his lap and shutting the door.
He feels the driver get in the driver’s seat and shut his own door. Yoongi must’ve told him Jungkook’s address already because he doesn’t ask him where he lives. Jungkook sighs gently and tries to get comfortable in the corner, letting his jacket puff up around him to act as a warm cocoon. He wedges his hands between his thighs to keep them from freezing, but soon the heater kicks on and warm air lays on Jungkook like a security blanket and makes his face feel fuzzy. He can still smell Yoongi all around him, the tickle of pomegranate tea and warm honey making him scrunch up his nose and wiggle it around. It makes sense Yoongi smells like tea, he is after all, a tall drink of gorgeous. Jungkook giggles to himself. Maybe he’s a short drink, but either way, he’s a taste that Jungkook would love to have on his lips all day.
Car rides always make him sleepy; his parents used to drive him around the neighborhood to get him to sleep as a kid, and the gentle rocking motion as the taxi driver makes each turn seems to have the same effect to this day. He’s on the verge of dozing off when a realization startles him awake and he cries out.
“What, what? What’s wrong?” the driver asks. His outcry startled him harder than it did Jungkook.
Jungkook covers his face in shame and groans. “I told my crush I loved him, and all he said back was thanks. ”
The driver doesn’t say anything back for a long time. He probably didn’t hear him, or is choosing to ignore Jungkook’s drama from the drunken state he’s in.
To his surprise, he answers. “He was probably shocked and didn’t know what to say back. Also, you’re really drunk and he didn’t think you were being serious.”
“Oh, I’m so serious about him. So serious.” Jungkook nods his head deeply to demonstrate how serious he is, then automatically regrets the added nausea from the motion. “He’s the one, I know it. I can beel it in my fones.”
“You can feel it in your bones, huh?”
“Yep!” Jungkook pops the ‘p.’
“And how do you know that? What’s so special about this guy?”
Man, this taxi driver is nosy. “He’s kind, and he’s cute, and patient, he’s funny and smart and looks like the perfect size to spoon. He smells good and he respects women and when he does something he has to make it perfect because he likes doing a good job, and when he talks about something he likes he talks for an eternity, but it’s still cute because he has a lisp so I don’t mind listening to him talk all the time and he doesn’t mind if no one is listening except me. He doesn’t stand up straight and drinks too much coffee so I’d probably have to lean down and hurt my back just to kiss his coffee breath mouth, but it’d totally be worth it. It’ll totally be worth all the waiting.”
The driver goes silent again for a bit and Jungkook thinks the conversation must’ve ended, but instead he asks another question: “How long have you been waiting?”
Jungkook laughs a self-pitying laugh. “Sooo long. Maybe since the time he tried singing opera to me on my birthday when I first started working and no one at the office knew it was my birthday. But it’s okay, I have a plan. You can’t tell him, sir! You can’t tell Yoongi-hyung what I said, please don’t tell him all this, I have to tell Yoongi-hyung myself,” he begs.
“It’s okay kid, your secret’s safe with me.”
“Okay, okay. Good. Thank you.”
“We’re at your house, by the way.”
“Excellent!” Jungkook says, and then promptly vomits across the back seats.
***
Yoongi knocks on his door. “Hey Jungkook, how you feeling?” He peeks his head into his office, button nose just barely past the door frame.
Jungkook groans in response from where he's lying across his desk, all knick-knacks and computers cleared so he can lie rigidly straight, staring up at the ceiling. “So hungover. Terrible. I slept for 6 hours, woke up and ate seven cups of ramen, then slept for another 10 hours. I don't even remember how I got to work today.”
“So, normal then.”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
Yoongi nods, a smile playing on his lips. He leans against the door frame and crosses his arms. “Good. I'm glad. And you got home okay?”
Jungkook's heart flutters. Yoongi wants to know if he's okay! He's more than okay, he's been over the moon since Yoongi helped get him to the car last night. Minus the hasty drunk confession to the cab driver. “Yep! Thanks for calling me a taxi, hyung. How much do I owe you for it?”
“Taxi? What taxi? You don't owe me anything, kid, don't worry about it.” Yoongi raises an eyebrow dramatically.
Jungkook bites his lip to hide his smile. “Thanks, hyung.”
“Still don't know what you're talking about!” Yoongi calls over his shoulder as he turns to leave.
Jungkook smirks and closes his eyes again, letting the warm energy from Yoongi's visit to dissipate the dull pressure in his head. He's almost about to doze off, is considering reaching into his drawer for the sleeping mask he keeps in there, when there's another knock at the door. His expectations of Yoongi's return are shattered as Jimin enters the room.
“Hyung,” Jungkook whines, throwing an arm over his eyes.
Jimin apologizes and switches the lights off. “You had quite the night, kiddo.”
“Not in comparison to Hoseok and Namjoon hyung.” No one should have allowed Hoseok to drink more than half a beer. No one should have sat in silence while Namjoon offered to buy Hoseok another one. No one should have quietly pretended that they didn't know those two as they proceeded to noraebang their hearts out despite the bar not having a karaoke machine. Last night really was full of regrets, but luckily Jungkook doesn't have to deal with too many of them.
“Hyung, can you find out how much my taxi cost from Yoongi-hyung? I want to buy him dinner or something to pay him back,” Jungkook yawns.
Jimin's lowering himself onto Jungkook's loveseat, placing his computer on the ground to make room. “Taxi? You didn't take a taxi last night.”
“What? Yeah I did.”
“No, you didn't. There was only one taxi we could find so I took it home because we live in opposite decorations and also we were all afraid you wouldn't make it upstairs to your apartment alive. One of us was supposed to give you a ride home.”
Jungkook's eyes fly open, white light piercing his corneas. “Hyung. Who.”
Jimin shrugs a shoulder. “I left before I saw who took you.”
“Hyung. Who. Took. Me. Home.”
“Sheesh, why does it matter? What's going on with you?”
Jungkook rolls off of his desk and crashes onto the floor.
“What the hell! Jungkook?? Are you okay?” Jimin rushes to his knees and frantically pats Jungkook's body down. “Did you break anything?”
A quivering sigh escapes Jungkook as he covers his face. “Only my heart, probably. Nothing major.”
Jimin stands back up. “You're fine, big baby.”
“I'm not fine. Hyung, I told whoever was driving me that I'm in love with Yoongi-hyung. Like madly in love.”
“So? Everyone knows that already.”
“What if Yoongi was the one driving!”
“...my point still stands. Everyone knows you're in love with him.”
“No, no, I can save this. I'm sure it must've been someone else. I gotta talk to Namjoon-hyung!” He leaps to his feet and dashes out of his office with the strength of someone who shouldn't be hungover, leaving Jimin all by himself.
“...that's fine. Guess I'll talk to Jin-hyung instead.” It's not like he was seeking Jungkook's company or anything, he just needs an ear to spew his feelings to, get them all out and untangled from his thoughts before his skull explodes. Jimin sits back down. He tilts his head back, relaxing each muscle of his body one by one, breathing in, breathing out, until all he can feel is the flitting of his eyes behind his closed lids.
Jimin does the only thing that can help him map out his mind. He makes a list:
- Jimin misses Taehyung
- Jimin does not miss hooking up with guys
- Jimin...had some parental advisory suggested thoughts about Taehyung…
- Jimin cried on the cab ride home last night because he hasn't seen Taehyung's face in days but it already feels like a lifetime
And that's it.
Is that it?
(Shouldn't there be more?)
Jimin gets up, suddenly antsy from nervous energy, and walks the perimeter of the room. Pacing, pacing, pacing.
He misses Taehyung. Check.
He doesn't miss anyone else except Taehyung. Check.
He's feeling things for Taehyung that he's never felt for anyone before. Check.
He really misses Taehyung and nothing seems to be able to fill his void. Double, triple check.
And for his final trick, the moment everyone has been waiting for, Park Jimin will pull the answers to his conundrum out of a hat! Jimin reaches into his imaginary hat and rummages around, grasping for something, anything that could help him. He comes up empty.
He comes up gasping for air when he knows he can't because someone's already taken his breath away.
Yoongi walks in on him like that, pacing and mumbling and rubbing his temples as he hisses to himself.
“I came in because I just saw Jungkook run out and wanted to check to see if everything's okay but. Um. Am I interrupting something?”
Jimin deflates a little, unsure of an answer. “Jungkook's fine. He went to ask Namjoon-hyung something.”
Yoongi hums and walks over to put something on the desk. Jimin watches him rip open a packet of m&m’s from his pocket and begin organizing them into a shape.
“Hyung? When did you realize you were in love?” Jimin asks, voice tiny and tired.
Yoongi pauses. He looks up, looks Jimin right in the eye. “When I started asking people the same thing.”
Jimin's eyes widen.
“When it gets to the point where all you wonder for every waking moment of the day is whether the feelings you have for this person are platonic or not, believe me, you've gotten to the point of no return. And pretty soon you'll find yourself doing stuff like this.” He gestures at the heart made of tiny colorful candies he's arranged on Jungkook's desk.
“But what if those feelings are still platonic? And something more?” Jimin asks.
Yoongi shrugs. “Love doesn't have to be about romance. Love can just be platonic. Plus something more.”
Plus something more. Huh.
Jimin rolls the words around in his head as he climbs the stairs back to his floor.
Taehyung has always been his best friend. Plus something more. He's his partner, his balancing act, his soulmate.
Jimin's always liked being very affectionate with Taehyung. Plus something more. They touch and hug perhaps a little more than the average pair of friends.
Maybe Jimin wants to be Taehyung's plus something more.
He sits down on Jin's yoga ball wordlessly, staring at his feet. Jin stares at him strangely and places his call on hold, slowly lowering his phone.
Maybe Jimin's always wanted to be Taehyung's plus something more.
Jimin whispers the words into his hands, silently birthing their existence into the universe with his acknowledgment. He tingles, and whispers them again.
“I'm in love with Taehyung.”
And just like that, they're gone, his words flying up and away from his mouth and out into the world, carried by the wind and dispersed to all four corners of the earth. He repeats it again and again, more bubbling out from inside of him now that he's finally let them free.
“I'm in love with my best friend.”
His realization surges from out of his chest after the days and months and years of his emotions pounding inside his ribcage to be released, Jimin never noticing until now how much the thumping of Halloween EDM music sounds a lot like the thumping of your heart when you meet the person you're destined to be with.
“I've been in love with my best friend.”
Jin just stares at him, mouth agape.
Jimin repeats himself, for the both of them. “I think I've… always been in love with Taehyung. Hyung. Hyung, I'm in love with my best friend.”
Jin slaps his hand over his mouth and yells into his palm. He picks up his phone, shouts “He's in love with his best friend! This was Steve, don't call back!” before slamming it down and lunging at Jimin for a hug.
They pat each other and shake a little as they snivel, Jimin nervously laughing from his rush of adrenaline.
“I always knew this day would come, I just didn't expect it to come so fast,” Jin admits, teary-eyed. “Let me call Hoseok, I can't believe he missed this.”
And never in a million years would Jimin have guessed that his friends would be right about their jokes that he and Taehyung are a couple. He's just not sure at what point their jokes stopped being jokes and started being pleas.
“Oh, no. Hyung.”
Jin pauses from dialing Hoseok. “What now?”
Jimin crumbles into himself. “Do you think Taehyung loves me back?”
Jin exhales a little sigh and wheels himself closer to Jimin to take his hands in his. “Jimin-ah, you know Taehyung's always loved you. You're each other's everything, and you always have been,” he speaks softly.
“But what if I'm too late?” Jimin sniffles. “Hyung, tell me. How long have I been keeping him waiting?”
Jin bites his lips thoughtfully. He doesn't answer, but his expression tells Jimin everything.
He pats his cheek reassuringly. “You'll never know until you try, Jimin-ah.”
Jimin really really wants to believe him.
Suddenly, Jungkook blitzes past the cubicle, catches himself, and tumbles backward. “Jin-hyung, did you give me a ride home last night?” he pants, baby bangs sticking to his forehead with sweat.
“Uh, no.”
“Drats. That's what Namjoon-hyung said too because he went home with Hoseok.”
Jin grits his teeth. “He say anything else?”
“That he has a relationship consent form for me and Yoongi when we're ready to talk.”
“Great! Go talk to him.”
“I can't! If none of you guys drove me home that means Yoongi drove me home and if Yoongi-hyung drove me home that means he knows, you know.” Jungkook looks around and lowers his voice to a whisper. “How I feel.”
“Heaven forbid,” Jimin deadpans.
“If I were a person in that situation who had feelings for someone important to me yet I was afraid to take the next step,” Jin looks pointedly at Jimin, who scrunches his nose. “I would just talk to that person and be honest before it becomes too late and I regret not speaking up.”
“Oh, hyung,” Jungkook breathes. He places a hand over his heart. “Is that what happened to you and Hoseok and Namjoon?”
Jin kicks off his shoe at Jungkook. “Out.”
“Why??”
“We do not tolerate disrespect here.”
Jungkook kicks the shoe down the hall so Jin has to hobble down it if he wants to get it. “And I don't tolerate bullying. Now if you excuse me, I have a fat stack of tween to teen magazine quizzes to take to figure out if my crush likes me back.” He lunges away before Jin gets the chance to grab him.
Jimin sits there, mulling over Jin's advice. Considering he's lost out on not one but two of his love interests, Jimin's not sure he can be the most expert consultant of relationship advice.
He scampers up and chases after Jungkook. “Hey, save a magazine for me!”
***
There is no moment in life that lasts longer than the anticipation before it, and waiting for Taehyung’s arrival is no exception.
The month passes slowly. They email back and forth like antiquated aunties sharing tidbits of their day over Facebook; substance substituted with light summaries of daily activities, jokes, memories, and stories cut short. Jimin is learning lots of things at his new job. He’s learned exactly how hard he needs to hit the coffee machine to get it to start spewing bubbles again and he now knows that when Namjoon says he’s taking a meeting at 4 p.m. he means Hoseok is visiting. But nothing has become more ingrained into his brain than the exact time conversion between Seoul and Los Angeles; those precise sixteen hours spent checking and rechecking his inbox, only to see no time has passed at all.
He’s become more melancholy with this additional month to his life. He’ll wake up early to watch the sunrise as he commutes to work, greeting the new day first before it passes along to greet Taehyung sixteen hours later, the knowledge that the stretched out day is tucking him into bed as Jimin is waiting for him to catch up on the other side of the world a cold weight in his stomach.
Sixteen days. He crosses out another day on the puppy calendar Hoseok gifted him.
“Are you going to tell him?” his friends ask.
Yes. He is. But the right way, face-to-face, where emotions can’t get lost in the cracks of a phone screen. He’ll do it at a nice restaurant with candles and flowers so Taehyung knows he’s being serious. He’ll probably write something out beforehand and crumple it up at the last minute because things memorized from the brain never sound the same as when they’re from the heart.
Twelve days.
“Are you nervous?”
Jimin doesn’t have time for nerves when he already has enough pre-confession jitters to help juggle at the office.
“He hates me! He knows I love him and he hates me! Once I walked into my office and he dumped a bag of m&m’s on my desk because I think he doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore. I shouldn’t have drunk that night.”
“Drinking doesn’t fix your problems, it only gets rid of them,” Jin consoles.
Jungkook throws his head into his arms. Jimin is there with another box of tissues but Jungkook refuses to sob in front of his hyungs.
Seven days.
Reservation’s been set, flowers ordered, clothes ironed and steamed. Jimin’s ready.
Six days.
Reservation’s been changed, can they do it with a corner booth instead? Flower order cancelled, then reordered, then doubled, then ordered from a different shop just in case something happens with the first two. Maybe he’ll drop them in the sewer on the way over. Oh god, he can’t give him sewer flowers. Clothes changed and outfits recombined and ties clash and mismatch and thrown all over the floor into a pile of forest floor snakeskins, jackets and pants and belts and rings and then no rings swapped around like a Barbie fashion game until Jimin settles on one outfit and three alternate outfits, just in case. Clothes re-ironed and re-steamed.
Jimin’s close to being ready.
Sixteen hours.
Taehyung gets back on a Monday, so Jimin took Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday off in preparation for a post-confession celebration or a three day long wallowing period. Taehyung insisted they get dinner Tuesday evening despite Jimin’s suggestion they push it back later so he can get another night’s rest to sleep off the jet lag. He’s sure he’s gotten more sleep on the plane than Jimin has had pacing the carpet at home, ticking off the minutes until his arrival.
Me
Goodnight
Love you
Message delivered just now.
Taetae
i’m back!!
oops ur message sent late i just got it haha
Me
Welcome back!!!
I’ll see u tomorrow?
Taetae
yes!!!!!
unless i go into a coma
if that’s the case plz come wake me up lol
i have something very important to tell u ;))
Me
Oh.
Haha
Me too
:)
Sixteen minutes.
The longest month of his life passed by too quickly and now Jimin’s fight or flight mode is beginning to kick in. He forces himself to stand still, shoes glued to the ground, so that he won’t keep pacing in the restaurant foyer and get in the way of the waiters. Before someone dies it’s said that their life flashes in front of their eyes, their lifetime of memories replaying just once more as the brain snaps off. Jimin feels that now; hundreds of moments he’s shared with Taehyung flitting through his brain in no particular order, swirling behind his ears and flooding his senses until all he can feel is the reminiscent shape of his body next to his. It’s the only thing keeping him sane.
But seeing him, his Taehyung— his Taehyung —here, real and in front of him in the flesh as he walks through the heavy glass doors, he feels his heart surge in his chest as he steps toward him, drawn closer by the moon’s gravity, pulling up and up and up on the ocean, lifting the waves up into the air before--
Crash.
Jimin stops, foot landing heavily as he halts, sending a sharp pain up his leg and through his spine, straight to his locked jaw.
“Jiminie!” Taehyung swims through the crowd, pulling along a stranger by the hand. “Jiminie, oh my god, I’ve missed you so so much.”
Me too, so so much. Jimin’s mouth is suddenly too dry and he can’t force his lips open. All he can do is stand frozen as he watches the two of them giggle and crash into each other as they dodge a waiter. Taehyung lets go of him just long enough to wrap Jimin into the biggest hug ever, and a soothing sense of relief washes over him, if only for a fleeting moment, before Taehyung releases him and steps back and Jimin is pulled back to reality.
“You look good. Who’s this?” Jimin finally manages, although he really doesn’t want to know the answer.
“This is Joshua,” Taehyung beams, presenting the man on his arm. “I’ve been dying to introduce you two.”
Jimin’s throat is caked with sand, he feels pieces of him dry up and crack as the arid air passes through his lungs. “Joshua,” Jimin repeats. “A pleasure. You must be Taehyung’s…” He wets his lips. Eyes dart between the two of them, between their fingers laced together, calculating, hoping he’s miscalculating. God, please let him be miscalculating.
“My ex-boyfriend,” Taehyung says.
For a split second Jimin relaxes, before Joshua opens his pretty, perfect mouth--
“Fiancé,” Joshua smiles. “Sorry, he's been introducing me like that for extra shock value. A pleasure to meet you as well, Jimin-ssi. Taehyung’s been telling me everything about you.”
Recalculating.
Jimin blinks, hard and slow. “Wow. Fiancé?”
Taehyung nods enthusiastically. Joshua smiles kindly, a faint blush rising on his cheeks.
They met one night at the museum. (No statues or paintings came to life, unfortunately, not even a T-Rex to gobble Joshua up.) It was true love at first sight. Art restorer and art curator. Born on the same day, in the same year.
A match made in heaven, Taehyung had called it.
Jimin’s not the type to believe in heaven, but Joshua is. Not that there's anything inherently wrong with that, not at all. Just, he knows Taehyung's not religious. Does Joshua know that?
Does Joshua know him?
Here is a list of things Jimin learns about Joshua:
- He's smart. Funny. He has a sweet face and an even sweeter tongue.
(But not as sweet as Taehyung's.)
2. What's with it with people born on December 30, 1995 and having long dark lashes, feline eyes, and facial proportions sculpted by the sun?
(A small part of Jimin wants to believe it must've been something in the water that their mothers both drank, an even smaller part fears that maybe they really are a pair of soulmates picked out in heaven.)
And that's it. Of course there's more to him, he's sure. He's sure Joshua is a nice person, he should like him. Taehyung certainly likes him, and Taehyung would never like a not nice person. He prattles on and on about Joshua, Jimin should listen, really, he's being rude. He normally clings onto Taehyung's words like a lifeline, but for some reason his mind doesn't want him to hear about the trip, or the exhibition, or how Joshua helped him fix his flat tire, or how Joshua showed him his personal collection of Monet, or how Joshua, Joshua, Joshua.
Taehyung's words slip through his ears like hot sand.
He clenches and unclenches his fork in his hand, too shell shocked to feel any anger.
Does Joshua even know Taehyung?
Their food comes and Taehyung begins scooping some of Jimin’s meal onto his plate, as per usual. Jimin doesn’t take any notice, but Joshua does.
“Babe, that’s not your food,” he laughs, slightly embarrassed.
Taehyung pauses from taking a bite of his stolen spaghetti. “I know? It’s Jimin’s. We always share, it’s okay.”
“Are you really hungry? I can order you more food, hun, you really don’t need to do that.”
“It’s fine,” Jimin says, trying to keep his annoyance to a minimum. “We do this all the time.”
“Really? Why?” Joshua asks. He doesn’t get it. Jimin so badly wants for Taehyung to lean across the table and whisper those words to him. He just doesn’t get me like you do.
But instead, Taehyung apologizes with a small smile and puts the food back. “Just something we did during college, don’t worry about it.”
“Here, love, try mine.”
Jimin watches from across the table as Joshua feeds Taehyung a spoon of his shrimp rice pilaf. Taehyung hates seafood. Why is he eating it? Why is he smiling and giggling and cooing at Joshua like that?
Jimin doesn’t get it.
Does Joshua even know him?
He can’t possibly know about Taehyung’s affinity for eating raw onions when he’s nervous snacking. He's sure Joshua has never had to deal with Taehyung sneeze in a library or watched him use his toes to pick up things off the ground instead of bending over like a normal person. There’s no way they’ve seen the worst sides of each other within the four measly weeks of knowing each other. But what is 525 weeks of friendship compared to four weeks of true love?
“Jimin-ssi, Taehyung said you two graduated together. What was it you studied?”
Taehyung shakes his head. “No, I just said we went to uni together. We didn’t graduate together.”
Joshua looks at Jimin with pitying eyes. “Oh. You never graduated?”
Jimin flicks a speck off of the table cloth, a little pissed off now. “I have a B.A. in Psychology. Taehyung’s the one who didn’t graduate.”
Joshua’s eyes widen in horror. “What?” He laughs awkwardly, believing he must be being joked with. “Babe, that’s not true, right?”
“It is. I dropped out in my third year. Why? It doesn’t really matter, I have a job and everything.” Taehyung fills his mouth with food to avoid continuing on the conversation. Joshua doesn’t take the hint.
“So you almost finished? You should go back and complete the rest of your units then.”
Taehyung shrugs. “I don’t want to. I don’t need to.”
“But, babe-”
“He doesn’t need to,” Jimin repeats. What’s with this guy and not realizing Taehyung has other priorities in his life? Surely he understands a stable career isn’t dependent on four years of essay writing graded by people so removed from their industries and embedded in the abilene paradox of academia that they’re out of touch with current models of the job market.
Does Taehyung even know Joshua?
Hopefully he knows more about him than Jimin does, because his list is remaining painfully short. He’d add more to it, but he tries to refrain from adding rude obscenities to his lists.
At every lull in conversation Jimin is ready for one of them to crack up and break character, tell him that the whole thing was a prank and Joshua is an actor friend. The punchline never delivers.
Does Jimin even know Taehyung?
He thought he did. He thought knowing everything about someone was enough to know they’d be good together, but in the end he supposes love is different in practice than it is in theory.
And when Taehyung holds Joshua’s hand and caresses his thumb as they beam at each other, Jimin realizes just how out of practice with loving someone he is. Tongue bitten back to prevent him from hissing could have’s and if I had’s at himself, he’s able to swallow his blood and smile.
And when Taehyung asks if Jimin will do him the honor of being his best man at the wedding, well, how can Jimin say no?
He loves him too much, after all.