To Meet Under the River of Silver and Gold

by autumnjade

Summary:

It’s the late 1800s. Yoongi puts a request in the newspapers back east for a husband because he is very much gay and has been having trouble finding fellow gay men where he lives in Montana Territory. Jimin, on the other hand, thinks he’s coming to marry a rich woman who has inherited a large amount of land and needs a man to help her properly care for it and start a life together.

Jimin begins to allow himself to feel in a way he never has before with the guidance of his new husband. But what happens when he finds out a dark secret from Yoongi’s past?

Sneak Peek:
He watched as one corner of Yoongi’s lips curved up just slightly, and with a start Jimin realized he’d been caught staring again. His eyes jumped up to Yoongi’s amused ones, and Jimin immediately turned away. His cheeks felt uncomfortably warm for the second time in barely half an hour.

Chapter 1: Chapter I

Notes:

DISCLAIMER: The history as we know it is very much changed in this story. Gay marriage is legal, but rare. There are many people who disapprove of it. Koreans have been in the US for longer than they actually have in real history, and they are spread around the country but are still very small in numbers. There is going to be racism, and discrimination, internalized homophobia, and other various sensitive topics in this story, but they do not take precedent. (I have tagged them just to be safe, though.) This story also takes place in what is now southwest Montana, USA, however I have taken creative liberty in creating new names for most locations. Some are real. I also have never been to Montana myself, so keep that in mind! I just did lots of research. The story takes place somewhere between 1860 – 1890 but it is not mentioned in the story. (In real history, Montana became a state of the union in 1889.)

Notes: I've been having a grand time researching and writing this story so far. I've always enjoyed the mail-order bride fics but I've never tried it out before myself because I didn't feel I had anything new to add to the trope, and I don't usually hop on writing trends. However, when this idea popped into my head, it just wouldn't let me forget it, and so I started researching, watching historical videos, etc. and fell down the rabbit hole, so to speak! I really hope you all enjoy what I've done with this trope. I feel like this story will become something special to me, and hope it will for some of you, as well.

And with that, please enjoy!

 

‘To Meet Under the River of Silver and Gold’

 

Chapter I

 

Jimin watched the world pass by in a blur. Far off in the distance, where the landscape passed more slowly, he could see dark, dark storm clouds building high up into the heavens. The clouds blocked the setting sun, only letting a bit of dull orange through.

He would arrive tomorrow. It had been three days now since the train had left New York. Jimin had long since lost all feeling in his rear. The seats in second class did have cushions, unlike the third class seats, but they were not nearly as lush or comfortable as those in first class. Jimin was sure that the stuffing below his buttocks had permanently flattened; if he shifted, he could feel the wooden seat against his tailbone.

For the umpteenth time during the journey, Jimin anxiously pulled out the small packet of papers he had brought along. A newspaper clipping and a few letters. The newspaper clipping was nearly falling apart already, he had run his fingers over it so many times. Not to mention, the day he had bought the edition, it had been pouring. The rain had blurred some of the print before Jimin had even gotten a chance to read it for the first time, but he could still read most of it.

He lifted it to the window, now, and reread the words of the advertisement he had now memorized.

 

 

Jimin squinted at the name for the hundredth time. It was one of the parts of the letter which had been a little blurred. It almost looked like it said ‘Yoongi,’ but that couldn’t be right, so it must have been ‘Yoonji.’ (“She’s Korean,” he had murmured to himself, that first day. Just like him.)

Yoonji wasn’t a woman of many words. She didn’t even sign her letters with her full name. She only signed, ‘Y,’ at the end of each letter. Her name was always written as ‘Y. Min’ at the head of her postal address. Jimin had followed suit, addressing his few letters ‘Dear Y,’ and signing with ‘Yours Sincerely, J’ after introducing his full name within his first letter. It almost felt like their little secret, and despite never meeting Yoonji, Jimin could already feel some fondness for her.

Jimin was the last of his family here in New York. Life had been bearable with them, but now that he was the only one left, he had no one to turn to when the days got hard. The people around him didn’t hesitate to let him know how unwelcome he was there, whether it was through their hateful words, their violence, or their rules that didn’t make any sense why he was excluded. Jimin wondered if, out west, life was more welcoming and comfortable for citizens of Asian descent.

Each time Jimin received a letter from Yoonji, it had been like a secret friend greeting him at home after a long and miserable couple of weeks. He didn’t write about his stresses or fears in the letters to Yoonji. It wouldn’t have shown him in a very good light, being a spineless and emotional man. He wanted to show his best side to Yoonji to convince her that he was the right one to be her husband.

Jimin thought about life outside of the city. Yoonji Min lived in southwestern Montana Territory, quite a way’s away from the nearest town center. It was a homesteading town, established at first because of the gold and silver the pioneers found. Yoonji had explained that her father had settled there many years ago and had grown his wealth not only through the gold and silver he had found, but also through his popular store in the town. In recent years, he had grown weak with illness, until it took his life and left Yoonji with too much to handle all on her own. She didn’t mention her mother, but Jimin knew it was likely that Yoonji’s mother had passed even before her father.

Jimin wondered how it would be to wake up to the sounds of nature, to have to ride a long journey into town to buy food rather than walk around the city block to the market—or perhaps would they be growing everything themselves? Jimin felt a little embarrassed by his lack of knowledge. He also hadn’t asked that specific question in the few short letters exchanged between that time and now.

What Jimin did know, though, was this:

Yoonji was thirty-eight. Nearly sixteen years older than Jimin. It was…quite a difference, if he was honest to himself. But she had specifically requested a husband in his age range. Did she prefer younger men? Or was she some kind of pervert? Jimin shook his head, trying to get that unpleasant thought out of his mind. No, the letters seemed to have nothing sexual in nature, and she seemed like a very mature, responsible woman. Perhaps she had had a bad experience with older men. Or perhaps she wanted to take care of a younger man?

Jimin shivered, and then blushed. He would never, ever admit it to anyone, but he had always loved to be doted on and taken care of. His father had given in years ago to the reality that Jimin was never going to be a manly man; he was always going to be something of an embarrassment to the family with his small stature and gentle ways.

But what if…what if that was exactly what Yoonji wanted? What if Jimin were to finally find someone to spend his life with who would appreciate him for the man he was?

It sounded almost too good to be true.

Yoonji had also told him that she had two horses, a simple wagon, and a stable, in addition to the house, of course. She had inherited one hundred sixty acres of land, which included woods, a wide stream, and some open grassland. Jimin couldn’t even properly fathom how large that was. He was used to a tiny apartment, crowded city streets, and barely any trees other than in the park or in the suburbs, but he didn’t really go there anyway. The land surrounding Yoonji’s was unoccupied; rugged mountains and more grasslands, as well as a river which was connected to the stream on her land. Yoonji warned him that he would need to prepare himself for cold, for the only month to be truly warm was July. Sometimes August, if they were lucky.

She had told Jimin that in town, there was the train station, town hall—where they would marry upon Jimin’s arrival—a provisions store which also handled the post, a saloon, and a small hotel. There was also a common at the center of town, upon which many nearby farmers and ranchers came together to sell their goods once a week (or once a month, if they were farther out) to the townsfolk. Yoonji said that it was a good opportunity to socialize, if Jimin was one of those types. She said she wasn’t so much of a socializer, but would be happy to join Jimin if he wanted to meet folks. The town also held a few festivals and celebrations on the common throughout the year, as well.

 

*

 

The fourth day of his journey dawned dark. Jimin could see a white line across the horizon where daylight was trying to push through, but the clouds were deep charcoal, almost like night. He stood up for a moment to stretch and roll his shoulders. He was pulling down his suitcase to search for the yellow handkerchief he was to wear upon arrival so Yoonji could identify him—she would also be wearing a yellow handkerchief—when Jimin thought he could hear thudding on the roof. He looked up, but the sound stopped.

Jimin had his suitcase in hand when suddenly the train came to a screeching halt. Several women in the car screamed, and Jimin fell backwards over the legs of his neighboring passenger. His suitcase hit him in the head and toppled into the aisle.

“What’s happening?”

“Why did we stop? We’re not there yet, are we?”

“Did we hit one of those big bison? You saw that, Ma, didn’t you? Yesterday! Bet those could stop a train—”

Murmurs spread throughout the car, but all were silenced at the sound of gunshots.

Jimin felt his stomach drop. Road agents? Was the train getting robbed? He had read about these kinds of things happening out west, but Jimin never thought he would have to experience it. They were just wild tales to scare children…weren’t they?

The door at the end of the car burst open, and several men entered. They all were wearing bandanas to cover the lower parts of their faces, and combined with the brims of their hats putting their eyes into shadow, Jimin couldn’t tell what they looked like at all. He only knew that they were tall, broad, and carrying long guns and revolvers. Jimin scrambled out of the aisle, gasping when the men aimed their guns at the passengers.

“Everyone off! Everyone off the train,” they ordered. “Bring everything with you!”

Jimin had no idea what was going on. Didn’t they usually just rob the cars that carried cash from the banks moving between cities? Why were they going after this second-class car? It was unlikely anyone had any possessions of value. Jimin certainly didn’t. He was wearing his best suit to make a good impression, and he had packed only his newest clothing—again, to make a good impression—but otherwise he had barely anything other than some old photos. One of his family from when he was younger, and then one from when he was a teen. Perhaps the only thing of worth was the very small wooden jewelry box he’d filled with some of his mother’s old jewelry. He was hoping that he could gift Yoonji with it, and desperately hoped these road agents wouldn’t search everyone’s trunks.

Jimin followed everyone through the door, jumping down onto the uneven ground beside the tracks. He shivered. It was chilly out, and his coat was still inside his suitcase. He and everyone else stood in a huddle of confusion and fright in the middle of nowhere as the train hissed steam, immobile. He wasn’t expecting to once again get knocked off his feet when the carriage ahead of theirs exploded.

Ears ringing, covered in dirt and debris, Jimin could only watch in horror. The fire that caught upon the ripped wooden walls and flooring of the carriage was bright in the darkness of the morning. Jimin vaguely heard a child sobbing nearby, and the sound of nervous horses whinnying. He could hear the road agents shouting amongst themselves and then once again at the passengers, threatening them to stay back and to not interfere.

Before he knew it, though, the road agents had disappeared on their horses. Jimin was left in shock with everyone else as they stood amongst the wreckage, many trunks scattered across the ground—some burst open.

“What are we going to do?” someone whispered nearby. Jimin’s thoughts echoed the question.

“Everyone back inside!” a man shouted loudly, approaching. Several people cried out in fright, and Jimin, too, flinched. But then he realized it was the conductor. He was holding a lantern and a rifle, although it pointed toward the ground. “Everyone back in your seats while we inspect the damage.”

Jimin realized he didn’t have his suitcase in hand; it had slipped from his grasp during the explosion. He quickly looked around, heart sinking when he realized that not only had it burst open, but his belongings were scattered and partially buried in the debris.

“Oh, no, no, no,” he muttered, crouching down to gather what he could.

“I said, get back in the carriage!” the conductor snapped impatiently.

Jimin had no choice but to give up, doing his best to close his suitcase with its broken clasp and hinges. He stumbled up the steps back into the train car and sank back into his seat. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, frozen, staring out of the now dusty window as the sky gradually lightened and it began to rain.

Eventually, the train workers must have deemed the train fit enough to continue on, because with a great screech and lurch of the carriage, they began moving again. As the wet, dreary landscape once again moved past, Jimin’s thoughts began to spiral.

He had been momentarily distracted from the reason for his journey. While Jimin had been a little nervous before about traveling all this way across the country to marry a woman he had never met, now he had a new worry.

He could see his reflection in the window. He was covered in dirt and soot, and even some blood from where he had been cut by something. Perhaps flying metal and wood, or rocks. His body ached. What would this look like, to Yoonji, his future wife? It would look like he couldn’t protect her. He would look like a disgrace. Jimin didn’t even know how to shoot a gun. He’d never needed such a thing before, but now, out here in what was essentially the wild, a gun was something that he probably would need. He was useless.

Jimin worked himself up into a near panic, heart beating too fast, a cold sweat breaking out despite the cold. By the time the train slowly pulled into the next and last station, Jimin was on the verge of shameful tears. Yoonji would never accept him. She would be disgusted with him.

But Jimin couldn’t afford to just turn around and go back to New York. He had scraped together the last of his savings to afford this train ticket. Yoonji had offered to pay for his ticket, but Jimin had some pride; he told her that was unnecessary, and had bought his own.

After Yoonji inevitably rejected him, Jimin would have no choice but to turn to the streets and somehow find his own way to survive. How, he had no idea.

The rain was pouring heavily as he limped off of the train, holding his broken suitcase in his arms. At the last minute, Jimin had opened his suitcase only to find that his yellow handkerchief was gone. Well. At least he could disappear without embarrassing himself. Yoonji would never know, bless her soul. She could think he had just changed his mind and not come at all.

The platform of the station, if it could be called that, was crowded, and Jimin kept getting jostled. As he moved farther away from the train and the crowd thinned, he looked around. He saw families hugging and crying, he saw the authorities arriving and speaking to the conductor. He saw horses tied up to posts just past the station building, some with wagons attached.

“Jimin?”

Jimin startled at the sound of his name, called out by a man with a deep, slightly rough voice. He turned. An Asian man who looked to be older and a little taller than him was staring directly at Jimin with a mixture of concern and relief.

“Jimin?” he said, again. “You are Jimin, right?”

Yoonji must’ve sent someone to meet him. It was smart of her to not meet a strange man alone, Jimin supposed. He could lie, and say he wasn’t Jimin, but something about the man’s genuine concern and lack of judgement in his gaze stopped him.

“Y-yes, I…yes. I’m Jimin Park.”

The relief in the man’s face spread into a warm smile. “Oh, thank god. You’re safe.” He reached up toward his collar and pulled off a yellow handkerchief Jimin hadn’t noticed before. He shook it out and quickly folded it before tucking it into a pocket. He then held out his hand. “Yoongi Min, at your service. I’m sorry you had to have such a frightening start, but I do hope you grow to be comfortable here and feel at home with me.”

Jimin’s suitcase slipped out of his arms.

A man? There must be some mistake. He almost didn’t notice the large, warm hand surround his own, smaller one, until he felt it squeeze him slightly and he looked up.

“Yoon…gi?” he murmured.

He felt so confused. Of course, Jimin had heard of men taking male lovers, and women taking female lovers. Sometimes even getting married. But it was not usual, and Jimin had grown up being told it was a shameful, disgusting kind of relationship. He had never been able to keep close male friends for very long because it wasn’t manly to be so close to another boy—or man, as he grew older. It was why Jimin hadn’t even bothered to tell anyone back in New York where he was going. There was no one who was close enough to care, let alone notice his absence.

But Yoongi looked so kind and welcoming. Jimin just didn’t know what to do or say. So he did nothing. He just stood there, frozen, staring at the other man. The chaotic sounds of the station washed over and around him, but didn’t touch him.

“Are you all right?” Yoongi asked, but then he quickly amended, “what am I saying—of course you’re not all right. You’re tired, you’re hurt, and you must have been terrified.”

Jimin gasped when suddenly he was enveloped by Yoongi’s arms and pulled gently against his chest. He stumbled slightly, tense, but then the other man’s hands began rubbing his back comfortingly, and Yoongi spoke against him.

“You’re safe now, I promise. Now, let’s get you home to rest. We can take our vows another day. There’s no rush.”

Jimin knew he should panic at those words, but Yoongi’s embrace felt good, and before he knew what was happening, he had sagged against the other man, burying his face into his shoulder in a way he hadn’t done since he was a child.

 

*

 

The day before his future husband would arrive, Yoongi abruptly realized his house was in no shape for a guest. Yoongi didn’t consider himself to be a slob, but he certainly wasn’t on his knees scrubbing the floors every week, polishing the silver, or wiping down the windows. He hadn’t really been thinking much about what Jimin’s impression would be. Until now. Now, he felt a bit self-conscious about the state of the house.

Granted, Yoongi didn’t know too much about the other man yet. Only the basics, really. But Yoongi had been to New York City before when he was younger. He knew what it was like. Out here, everything was so much more primitive and…dirty. Dirt and dust found their way into everything. And so, the day before his future husband was to arrive, Yoongi began to clean his home like the madman he probably was.

He washed the bedding and hung it outside in the (thankfully) sunny weather. He shook out the blankets and furs, using a paddle to give them each several good whacks outside to get the worst of the dust out of them before folding them nicely and putting them away. He dusted the shelves and swept the floors. He wiped down the windows. He chopped more wood and brought the already stacked wood inside to neatly pile by the fireplace, as well as by the cookstove in the kitchen.

When he was done, he stopped and looked around the house. Yoongi didn’t think he’d ever seen it so clean before.

On the day of, Yoongi looked at himself in the small mirror he owned and decided he wanted to make a good impression. He took extra care shaving his face until he was smooth as a baby. He soaped up his hair real good (and the rest of him), scrubbing until his skin was almost raw. The water he’d heated up was nearly cold by the time he washed all of the suds away. Then, he found his best suit and combed his hair back, smoothing it carefully.

He knew it would be messed up by the wind on the ride into town, but it was the thought that counted.

Yoongi headed into town early. He needed to restock his pantry and stores, and he assumed Jimin would have luggage to bring back to the house with him, so he got Chief and Sunny hooked up to the wagon.

The clouds were dark and ominous. Not exactly the kind of day he’d hoped his married life would start with, but there wasn’t anything to do about it, now. Such was life, after all. Yoongi was nothing if not adaptable to the unpredictable changes of life. His entire life had been one unpredictable change after the other. This was nothing.

“Today’s the day, huh?” Suran asked as she calculated the cost of everything at the provisions store. “Looking smart, Mr. Min.”

“It is. Thank you.”

Suran, the daughter of the owner of the provisions store, was one of the few in town who already knew about Yoongi’s “mail-order husband,” as she liked to call him. The town's post was delivered to the store, so she knew of Yoongi’s recent correspondence. Seeing the same name multiple times had her poking her nose about until Yoongi told her about the advertisement he’d posted out east.

Suran had been lucky; she had found a lover in Heize, another woman in town. Yoongi didn’t know the details of how the two women’s relationship had started, but he knew Heize from the saloon. For Suran’s quietness, Heize was like a firecracker. Infamous for her flirting, Heize often used a sweet, baby-like voice with the men who came to the saloon. However, she could switch at a moment’s notice to her stronger, deeper voice when she was done being a sweetheart.

“Well, good luck. I hope you two find happiness.”

Yoongi grunted acknowledgement, slightly embarrassed. He hoped the same, too. In only an hour or so, he would finally meet Jimin.

It was raining by the time Yoongi arrived at the station and tied up Chief and Sunny. He suddenly remembered the yellow handkerchief and loosely tied that around his neck for Jimin to recognize him more easily.

The hour came and went, however, and no train arrived. Yoongi wasn’t the only one waiting to meet someone at the station. Some were meeting family, others were waiting to transport cargo, and there were wagons ready to bring passengers to destinations beyond the end of the line.

Yoongi waited and waited, standing out of the rain as best as he could until he gave up and went back to the wagon to wait inside it. He’d hear the train coming with plenty of warning so he could get back to the station.

Eventually, Yoongi heard a rumble in the distance, and he quickly hopped back down. He saw the train pulling into the station and felt his stomach drop. One of the train carriages was completely destroyed. It almost looked like an explosion or fire had destroyed it. Pieces of wood were broken and bent out of shape, some of them charred dark.

As the train slowed, one of the train staff jumped off to open the doors.

Yoongi stepped up to him. “What happened?” he asked. Several others nearby echoed his words.

“Road agents,” the staff said distractedly.

Yoongi pursed his lips, feeling a swell of anger. Before he could ruminate on that thought, however, he spotted a slim young man who looked Korean, walking through the crowd with a broken trunk. He seemed somewhat in a daze, and wasn’t looking around him much. He kept getting jostled by the crowd.

Yoongi moved toward him.

“Jimin?”

The young man startled and turned toward Yoongi. The man’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open slightly. His soft cheeks were smudged with dirt. His dark hair was plastered to his head from the rain.

“Jimin?” Yoongi said, again, when the man didn’t respond. “You are Jimin, right?”

The man blinked and shook himself. “Y-yes, I…yes. I’m Jimin Park.” His voice was quiet.

Yoongi felt relief wash over him. He smiled at Jimin. “Oh, thank god. You’re safe.” He reached up toward his collar and pulled off the yellow handkerchief. Shaking it out, he folded it and tucked away. He then held out his hand. “Yoongi Min, at your service. I’m sorry you had to have such a frightening start, but I do hope you grow to be comfortable here and feel at home with me.”

Jimin’s trunk slipped out of his arms, hitting the ground with a dull thud, muffled by the puddle of water it fell into.

Jimin’s hand was small, and a little cold. It fully fit within Yoongi’s hand.

“Yoon…gi?” Jimin murmured. He looked hesitant, saying nothing more. He just stood there, staring up at Yoongi as his limp hand was eventually let go.

“Are you all right?” Yoongi asked, but then he quickly amended, “what am I saying—of course you’re not all right. You’re tired, you’re hurt, and you must have been terrified.”

Yoongi reached out a second time, only this time he wrapped his arms around the smaller man and embraced him. Jimin gasped against him, stumbling. His body was tense for a moment, so Yoongi rubbed his back gently.

“You’re safe now, I promise. Now, let’s get you home to rest. We can take our vows another day. There’s no rush.”

Jimin sagged against him, and when he buried his face into Yoongi’s shoulder, Yoongi thought that maybe things would be all right, after all.

Yoongi led Jimin to the wagon, taking his broken trunk and setting it inside with all of the groceries and supplies he’d purchased earlier. He’d have to take a closer look at it later, and see if he could repair it, or perhaps buy him a new one.

“Was this your only trunk?” he asked then, realizing that Jimin should have had more belongings than just one trunk.

“Yes, that’s all there is,” Jimin nodded.

Yoongi didn’t voice his surprise. Of course, he wasn’t expecting Jimin to show up with furniture or Chinaware, but to only have one trunk? Presumably holding nothing but clothing? It seemed strange.

While the other man climbed up into the seat up front, Yoongi untied Chief and Sunny from the fence. He kept an eye on Jimin; he could see some small injuries. Were there other, more serious ones? Jimin had seemed to be in shock, more so than many of the other passengers who had left the train. Although he seemed to be okay now, he was still very quiet, and seemed horribly nervous.

Not wanting to frighten Jimin even more, Yoongi did his best to contain his anger. Those road agents—endangering innocents, just for the money… He’d had to take several calming breaths to keep his voice calm and steady upon greeting Jimin.

“You’re welcome to sit under the bonnet,” Yoongi spoke up, squinting through the rain at him.

Jimin looked wide-eyed for a moment before quickly shaking his head. “No, that’s all right. I don’t need to—I’m fine out here.”

“You sure?” Yoongi grunted as he pulled himself up, coming to sit beside the younger man. Jimin was quite slender, and he seemed so much smaller than Yoongi. “The rain’s probably going to keep up all the way home.”

Jimin frowned. “But you’re sitting out in the rain,” he pointed out.

Yoongi laughed. “Doesn’t mean both of us have to.” But he didn’t push, and soon enough they were on their way back through the town. It was nice having the company beside him. “We just have one stop before we head home,” he added.

The original plan had been to sign their marriage papers immediately, and Yoongi had made an appointment for it two weeks ago when it was confirmed that Jimin was coming out west. He would reschedule it. Perhaps in a fortnight or two. Perhaps they could even call on some friends to witness it. Make an occasion out of it.

Jimin followed him into the clerk’s office, standing quietly by the door as he waited for Yoongi to speak with Mr. Taylor.

“You don’t want to do it now?” the man asked, eyes flickering over to Jimin. His blond moustache twitched. “You’re both here.”

“Ah yes,” Yoongi shook his head. “I think it’s best we wait. He’s had a trying day, and I just think it’s best we wait.”

“If that’s what you prefer.”

“Yes.”

They marked off another day on the calendar; next month on a Tuesday. It would give Yoongi more time to welcome Jimin into his home, introduce him to his friends, and get him more comfortable. Having the younger man here, in person, reminded Yoongi of what he was actually doing. Jimin wasn’t just a stuffed dummy to call his husband. He was a person with thoughts and feelings, and if Yoongi wanted this to work out, he would make sure they did things the right way. No rushing into everything.

As they made their way back home, Yoongi glanced at Jimin out of the corners of his eyes every now and then. Even through the bits of dirt, and now rain, he could see how handsome Jimin was. In fact, Yoongi might even say he was a beautiful man. With full lips, a small nose, lovely wide brown eyes…. Slight of stature, he also had small, delicate hands that clearly had never done hard labor. Yoongi hoped that Jimin was ready to get those pretty hands dirty, otherwise they would have a problem, though.

However, Jimin was exactly the kind of man Yoongi was drawn to. For, although Yoongi did not enjoy the company of women, he did like to be a protector and a provider. Seeing Jimin, remembering how it had felt when Jimin melted in his arms earlier, gave him that urge to protect. And perhaps look forward to when they would become intimate together.

“Which one is which?” Jimin asked suddenly, and it took Yoongi a moment to realize he was referring to the horses. Yoongi had told Jimin through their few letters of the two horses’ names, but he had not described them.

“Sunny is the chestnut,” Yoongi tilted his head toward the mare. “Chief is the gray.” He paused for a moment. Although Yoongi usually wasn’t one for small talk, he felt like he should probably put some effort in for Jimin. “Chief is full of himself, hence the name. He’ll boss Sunny around, he’ll probably boss you around, too, until you know how to work with him. Sunny…well, she’s just an old sweetheart. And don’t tell Chief this, but she’s probably the fastest horse around.”

Yoongi smiled to himself, recalling many a time she got him out of some tricky situations in his youth.

“I don’t know anything about horses,” Jimin told him. Yoongi glanced at him briefly. He could see some unease in his gaze.

“That’s all right. You’ll learn soon enough. I can teach you how to ride.”

“Do you have other animals? You didn’t mention any others in your letters.”

“Nope, it’s just these two. My neighbors—our neighbors, that is—live about a ten-minute ride, or a twenty-minute walk, away. They have cows and chickens, so I usually trade meat and pelts for milk, butter, and eggs.”

“Oh? You hunt?”

“That’s right.” At one time, his father’s homestead had had more animals, but Yoongi wasn’t one for routine or have the kind of self-discipline it required to care for farm animals. Or care for a garden. That just wasn’t for him. “There’s a river that runs through the property, I’m not sure I mentioned it in my letters. I also fish there when the trout are good. You won’t be hungry, living with me.”

The rest of the ride passed quietly but slowly due to the muddy roads. The rain tapered off for the last half, becoming nothing more than a fine drizzle. The clouds hung low, though, obscuring most of the landscape.

“I’ll take you around to see the area when the weather clears up,” Yoongi said gruffly. “I know it doesn’t look like much right now, but I assure you it’s beautiful out here.”

“Thank you.”

 

*

 

Jimin didn’t realize the house he was seeing through the drizzle was Yoongi’s until the other man held out his arm and pointed.

“There it is. Welcome home.”

Jimin stared at the dark brown wooden house. It was larger than he had expected, but also small; with the vast landscape, it looked tiny. The house had a simple porch out front, one stone chimney to one side of the house and a smaller metal chimney on the other side. It also looked like there was a second story. An attic, perhaps? It wasn’t quite tall enough to be a second floor entirely, he thought.

Jimin had only ever lived in an apartment building within the city. Always hearing the arguments of the neighbors through the walls, having the grumpy landlord bothering them about this and that, needing to worry about the neighbors burning the building down with their terrible-smelling cooking….

About fifty paces away from the house was a stable. Nearly the same size as the house. Yoongi directed the horses toward the stable, where he turned them and had them back the wagon into a large empty space out of the rain. He then hopped down and began to undo their harnesses. Jimin climbed down from the seat, wincing slightly. He watched as Yoongi led the horses into their individual stalls and gave them food before coming back toward the wagon.

“I bought some supplies while I was in town. We need to bring them into the house.”

Together they carried everything to the house in multiple trips. Upon his first step inside, Jimin paused to look around. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but the house looked more primitive than he had thought it would be. After all, in the city, he was used to things like table linens, wallpaper, rugs, and even if his family had never been particularly well-off, his parents had always saved up for the occasional luxury like nice Chinaware and decorations. Jimin had sold much of their belongings to be able to feed himself before leaving.

Here, though, there was only the bare minimum. The kitchen had a rather nice enameled cookstove with six burners and an oven to the right of the stove box, but that was the fanciest element of the room. A pile of wood was stacked against the wall right next to the stove. A dining table with six chairs took up most of the space in the room. There was a sitting room with two simple mismatched chairs facing a fireplace. A small writing desk was set against the wall by the window.

“You can just put everything on the table,” Yoongi told him, moving past and lighting a lantern. “Sorry, I haven’t got electricity here, yet. They say we should be getting it in a year or two, though.” Yoongi gave a disbelieving laugh. “We’ll see, though. Everything’s slower to come to these parts.”

“Oh. That’s—” Jimin blinked, stepping forward to set down the bag of potatoes he was holding. “That’s fine.” He hadn’t considered the absence of electricity. It was so commonplace in the city out east. “I don’t mind,” he added for good measure.

Yoongi smiled at him and then turned to head back toward the door. Jimin lingered for a moment, looking at the three cookbooks sitting on a shelf. They looked well-used.

Jimin wasn’t particularly good at cooking.

Remembering himself, Jimin hurried back outside. He took a deep breath as he looked out across the green landscape. The clouds were starting to lift a bit more, but they didn’t look like they would part to let the sun through anytime soon. The fresh air filled his lungs, and he let it sit for a moment before letting his breath out again.

Was this really going to be his life from now on? Living in a house in the middle of…of nowhere, married to another man?

Yoongi reappeared with another armful of supplies. His biceps were visible through his sleeves where the wet fabric was pulled tight around his muscles. They were so much bigger than Jimin’s biceps. He wondered how strong Yoongi was. Something in his belly tightened.

“All right, there, Jimin?” he asked as he approached.

Jimin’s eyes shot up to his face, and he felt himself redden. What was he thinking? “Fine,” he choked out, and stepped off of the porch to move past Yoongi. Jimin had never…why was he thinking about Yoongi like that? Jimin had never looked at another man like that before. Seeing that someone was handsome didn’t count. And Yoongi was certainly handsome. Jimin wasn’t blind. He thought that Yoongi might’ve been one of the handsomest men he’d ever set eyes on. Of course he would feel these…confusing thoughts.

He would be marrying this man, though. Jimin should be feeling—but, no. He wasn’t…right?

“God help me,” Jimin expelled, shaking his head with an overwhelmed sigh.

Once everything was inside the house, Jimin glanced into the sitting room again. He spotted a newspaper clipping on the desk and realized it was the advertisement he had answered. This one had not been ruined by rain, and Jimin picked it up to read it in full for the first time.

‘Looking for a husband preferably between the ages of 20 to 35 to marry a fellow gentleman to help care for my land and start a life together. He must be willing to get his hands dirty and work hard, but also enjoy spending quiet time together. I had been caring for my father for a few years, but he’s recently passed away and left me the family home and land. It is rather difficult to find a likeminded husband to marry a fellow man in these parts; therefore, as unusual as this may be, I thought I could try my luck putting an ad in the newspaper. I hope to find someone who can not only provide an extra pair of hands, but given time, become a treasured companion. I am not too picky about appearance, being somewhat plain myself, but should my husband have a kind smile and a soft touch, it would bring me even more joy. For interested gentlemen, please write to Yoongi Min at the following postal address:

Y. Min

The Crossing

Montana Terr.’

Reading it now, Jimin wondered how he could have missed the fact that Yoongi was a man. It seemed so obvious. Granted, it was still a bit strange, since most of the time the advertisements were for the purpose of continuing the grooms’ lineage, which in this case would be impossible.

Jimin looked up at Yoongi across the room. The other man wasn’t paying attention to him at the moment as he unloaded supplies in the kitchen. Jimin had always been aware of the handsomeness of fellow gentlemen, even if his thoughts never crossed beyond that awareness.

Once again, he didn’t think Yoongi was plain at all. He had strong eyebrows, a straight nose that was the perfect size for his face; not too small, not too large. His dark brown eyes were sharp and intelligent. His jaw was defined, but not blocky, giving his face an almost soft frame, but his cheeks were firm and his age was visible through the faint lines upon his skin.

Jimin had always been self-conscious of his own lips; they were too full for a proper, masculine man; too rosy, too. He often tried to hide them by pulling his lower lip into his mouth a little. He’d been ridiculed for them as a child. Yoongi’s lips, however, were perfect. They fit his face, and his cupid’s bow was narrower and more pointed than Jimin’s.

He watched as one corner of Yoongi’s lips curved up just slightly, and with a start Jimin realized he’d been caught staring again. His eyes jumped up to Yoongi’s amused ones, and Jimin immediately turned away. His cheeks felt uncomfortably warm for the second time in barely half an hour.

After a surprisingly tasty though simple midday meal of roasted pheasant and vegetables, Jimin went into the bedroom to unpack his suitcase. Shaking out his clothing and folding it into the chest of drawers, he found the jewelry box. He flipped it open to look at the silver rings, pendant necklace, and brooches. Now that he was to have husband, not a wife, Jimin wondered what to do with the jewelry.

He picked up the largest of the rings, which may have been meant to be worn on a thumb or forefinger. It had simple oval leaf embellishments on either side of the smooth circular stone in the middle. Jimin didn’t know what kind of stone it was, but it was a dark green one. He took out the pendant, which was of a similar style, perhaps even came as a pair with the ring. It, too, was silver, with a simple leaf-and-stone design.

There was a Christmas brooch of gold-plated holly leaves with red glass holly berries, and then a silver lotus flower brooch Jimin remembered his mother wearing on special occasions.

Jimin sighed and tucked everything back into the wooden box. He looked around for a moment and then slipped it into the drawer, underneath his clothing.

It didn’t take long for him to finish unpacking. There were a few things missing, like that yellow handkerchief, and a few socks and undergarments, and one of his favorite sweaters. But luckily nothing else had been lost during the road agents’ robbery and destruction.

He shuddered. He hoped life was not nearly that…exciting…on a regular basis.

Jimin looked up at the sound of knuckles rapping against wood. Yoongi stood in the doorway. He waited for a moment before entering the room.

“Is it fully broken?” he asked, nodding to the suitcase lying open upon the floor.

Jimin sighed. “I think so.” He showed Yoongi the twisted hinges and broken latch.

“Hm.” Yoongi looked over it for a moment. “I might be able to get a new set and fix it.” He tapped the hinges. “Not sure, though, but I’ll do my best.”

“Oh—it’s fine,” Jimin tried to reassure him. He hesitated for a second. “It’s not like I’ll need it for a while, right?”

Yoongi looked at him. A gentle smile spread across his face. “That’s right. Though…maybe we’ll want to take a little vacation together, who knows.” He did that thing with his lips again. That smirk.

Jimin tried to hold his gaze, but it was too much. He looked away, cheeks warm, and cleared his throat. Why did Yoongi’s smile make him feel like that? And how was Jimin ever going to manage this, this…marriage when he couldn’t even hold the other man’s gaze for more than a few second without getting flustered?

“Would you like to rest for a bit, or do you want to see some of the land now?” Yoongi asked him.

They went by foot. Not far, but far enough for Jimin to get a better idea of the sheer expanse of the landscape he now would be creating a life within.

In some ways, it seemed like paradise compared to New York City. He had never seen such beauty in his entire life. Despite it being summer, the enormous range of mountains that made the backdrop were streaked with white. The lush green moors ran for miles, with little trees and streams speckled throughout. There were pretty flowers of purples and yellows he didn’t know the name of. Jimin could hear many different kinds of birds singing and calling from here or there. Flying overhead. Insects buzzed, and frogs chirped. There was the river, upon which Yoongi regularly fished, or simply boated on nice days. Many, many miles away, he said there were larger lakes, which they could visit sometime.

“You do need to be careful of predators,” Yoongi warned him.

“Predators?”

“Yes. In these parts, there are bears, wolves…and of course bison aren’t predators, but they can trample you or impale you on their horns. It’s best you keep your distance.”

“Are there many animals like that around here?” Jimin asked.

“Many more than I can name. Moose, elk, deer… Those are just some of the larger of the animals.” He hummed. “I think I have a book somewhere on the species around here. We can look for it later.”

Jimin looked around at the vast landscape, no sign of another human other than the faint trail of chimney smoke in the far distance.

“That’s the Jungs’,” Yoongi said as he came to stand beside Jimin. “I’ll take you over to meet them soon. I think you’ll get along with them.”

“Jung. Are they…are they Korean, too?” Jimin was surprised to hear another Korean surname.

“Hoseok is. His wife Rebbeca—Becky—isn’t. She’s Mexican-American.” Yoongi smiled fondly. “They’re quite the pair. I think you’ll like them,” he said again.

Jimin hoped so. It would be nice to make friends out here.

“Are there many others here? Koreans, I mean?”

“Hm.” Yoongi tilted his head, appearing to think about it for a moment. “Some? Not many, I’d say. But there are a fair few. My father’s generation came here during the rush. Over the years we’ve all come to know each other. Gravitate toward each other, I guess. Support each other when there’s trouble or someone needs a helping hand.”

Jimin nodded. “Yeah. I understand that.”

As the day wore on, Jimin began to feel more at ease with Yoongi. He’d never had someone so attentive to his well-being before. Or, at least, without the addition of rude comments and sneers. As Jimin felt his energy waning, the older man seemed to notice and suggested he rest. That was how Jimin found himself alone in the bedroom once more, stripped down to his under shirt and under shorts.

He felt strange slipping under the covers of the bed. There were two pillows. He took the left side of the bed.

Jimin’s exhaustion took over his awkwardness, however; before he knew it, he’d sunken deep into sleep.

 

*

 

Jimin’s eyes snapped open, and he was greeted by darkness. He startled when Yoongi, carrying a lantern, came closer to the bed.

“Sorry, sorry,” the other man said. “You were sleeping so peacefully, I just let you sleep through supper. I’m turning in, myself, now.”

Jimin’s mind was still groggy with sleep. “What?”

Yoongi chuckled. “Go back to sleep, Jimin.”

“I slept through supper?”

“Don’t worry about it. Unless you’re hungry?”

“No…”

“Then just go back to sleep; it’s fine.”

There was mostly silence as Yoongi extinguished the lantern and Jimin felt the bed dip as he settled in under the covers beside him. Jimin’s eyes were wide in the darkness. He’d never slept beside another man before. Was…was Yoongi going to do anything?

Yoongi cleared his throat. “Normally, I’m up early in the morning on most days to hunt,” he spoke, “but I figure I’ll take a few days off to make sure you’re comfortable and settled first.”

Jimin took a moment to respond. “Thank you.”

They lay in complete silence for a long time. Jimin’s mind, while at first kicking into overdrive at thoughts of what it meant for him to be lying in bed with another man, eventually began to relax. He shifted slightly to return to his previous position, tucking his pillow just right. The air had grown surprisingly chilly. He pulled the blankets higher up over his shoulder.

Jimin had fallen back into a doze, drifting into deeper sleep, when he heard a terrifying scream from outside. He sat up quickly with a gasp, heart pounding. He heard it again. High pitched, like a child shrieking, but it was punctuated with multiple cries and then faded off. It had a metallic element to it, as if the scream was bouncing off metal.

Beside him, Yoongi seemed to slowly rouse from Jimin’s movement on the bed.

“What’s wrong?” he mumbled, sounding half asleep.

“Th-there was a sound,” Jimin whispered, clutching the blanket. “A scream. You didn’t hear it?”

The scream came again, sounding farther away.

“There—did you not hear that?”

To Jimin’s shock, Yoongi huffed out a laugh, rolling over to face him.

“It’s just an elk.”

“What?”

“An elk? Do you know what an elk is? The bulls make that scream when they’re rutting.”

Jimin vaguely knew what an elk was. And Yoongi had mentioned them earlier, hadn’t he? “Those…big deer?” His heartbeat was gradually returning to normal, but he didn’t lie back down yet. Yoongi hummed affirmatively. “They make that noise?”

“Yep. You don’t wanna mess with them. I’ve seen one just about the same size as Sunny. Every now and then some of them will come up to the horses in the paddock to say hello. But I recommend you keep your distance, unless you’ve got a gun on you and are ready to shoot.”

Jimin was quiet for a moment before he shuffled back down to put his head back on the pillow. He stared up into the darkness where he knew the ceiling was, even if he couldn’t see it.

“I’ve never shot a gun before,” he admitted softly after several long moments. He heard Yoongi’s head shift on his pillow.

“I can teach you.” It was quiet again, but then Yoongi spoke up once more. “Jimin. I want you to know that I can and will protect you. I’ll teach you everything you need, of course. But I also want you to know that when I asked you to come out here, I was taking responsibility for you. You’re young, you’re a city slicker…” Yoongi huffed out another laugh. “You may not be a woman, and I certainly didn’t ask for a wife. Not my thing, obviously. But understand that you’re my responsibility now.”

Yoongi’s words, spoken calmly but confidently in the dark, made Jimin shiver. He wished he could see the other man right now. He wished he could see his expression. See his eyes.

And, although Yoongi’s words calmed him, at the same time there was a strange flutter in Jimin’s chest. It was warm, and unusual.

He didn’t know if he should be scared or not.

 

 

*

 

Notes:

And so it begins! I'm really excited for Jimin's journey through self-discovery and allowing everything that he has suppressed over the years to blossom. We have an adventure ahead of us! I hope you've enjoyed this first part and continue to join me in the following chapters!

Chapter 2: Chapter II

Notes:

Merry Christmas! Here's my Christmas present to you all!

Enjoy!

 

Chapter II

 

Jimin awoke to the rich fragrance of brewing coffee. He breathed in deeply, his nose feeling a little cold for some reason. It took him a moment to remember where he was. But then the absence of the sounds of the city were too noticeable. He was used to people shouting and calling down below on the street early in the mornings. The only thing he could hear right now, though, was the muffled sound of someone moving around in the other room and the occasional sound of metal against metal. He opened his eyes.

Jimin wasn’t in New York City anymore. He was in Montana Territory, more than two thousand miles away.

Still within the warmth of the blankets, he stretched before sitting up. He was alone in the bed, but there was an indent in Yoongi’s pillow. He stared at it for a moment. He’d slept in the same bed as another man. He would continue to do so for the foreseeable future, as well. It hadn’t been as uncomfortable as he’d thought he would be. Then again, Yoongi hadn’t touched him in any way. It had simply been two people sharing sleeping quarters out of necessity. Nothing more.

The floor was cold when Jimin stood up, but the shiver that ran through his body was far from his mind when he noticed the view outside the window.

The grass and trees were coated in sparkling white. Frost. There was frost on the ground, as far as the eye could see.

“What?” he whispered to himself, stepping over to the window to look out. His breath fogged up the glass, and he quickly wiped at it with his sleeve. He wasn’t imagining it. There truly was frost on the ground, despite it being the later part of summer! Jimin stared, gobsmacked and partially horrified for a moment before he shuddered and turned to put on warm clothes.

When Jimin entered the kitchen, Yoongi was standing at the cookstove, cooking what seemed to be eggs, chopped potatoes, and sausages made from ground meat. The smell made Jimin’s mouth water. Jimin hadn’t made a noise as he entered, and Yoongi had his back to him, so Jimin took the opportunity to observe the older man for a brief moment without him knowing.

Yoongi wasn’t bundled in as many layers as Jimin was. He seemed to only have a long-sleeved undershirt on, tucked into his denim trousers—Levi Strauss blue jeans, Jimin realized. He’d never worn jeans before. His father always told him they were clothes meant for laborers, and Jimin should wear ‘respectable’ trousers.

They looked nice on Yoongi, though.

Feeling that he should announce his presence before getting caught again, Jimin cleared his throat. Yoongi immediately turned to him and smiled. His eyes drifted down Jimin’s form.

“Morning. Cold?”

Now that Jimin was in the kitchen near the cookstove, he wasn’t nearly as cold as before, but that reminded him of the startling sight outside the windows.

“There’s—there’s frost out there,” he couldn’t help saying. “But it’s summer!”

Yoongi waved him off, unconcerned. “It’ll burn off mid-morning, don’t worry. You’ll get used to it soon enough,” he added. He reached up to take down a mug from a shelf and held it out questioningly. “Do you like coffee?”

Jimin nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Black? Or…do you put anything in it? We’ve got milk, cream, honey, sugar.”

“A bit of cream would be nice, thank you.”

A moment later the warm mug was placed within his hands. His skin did something very strange when Yoongi’s hands surrounded his for a moment as he made sure Jimin had the mug steady. It was as if Jimin’s skin was too hot and too cold all at once. He brought the mug to his lips and carefully sipped the aromatic liquid. It went down smoothly, not bitter despite its lack of sugar, which Jimin honestly preferred. He didn’t want to be too greedy, though.

Yoongi cleared his throat as he turned back to the stove and lifted the cast iron pan from the heat. He carried it over to the table where there were already two plates waiting.

“You don’t need to be so polite, you know.”

“Huh?” Jimin lowered his mug and went over to the table.

“I want us to be comfortable around each other. We’re to be husbands,” Yoongi laughed lightly. “I know we’re mostly strangers still, but…you don’t need to be so formal with me. I’d like us to be equal in this partnership.”

“Oh.”

“And that goes for anything you need, too. Don’t be afraid to ask me. If it’s something we can get, then we’ll get it for you.”

Jimin swallowed. Even though Yoongi had just said they were to be equals, the declaration made him feel…well, not small, necessarily, but…oh, this whole thing was all too confusing. What was this he was feeling?

“Okay?”

Jimin realized he hadn’t responded. He quickly nodded. “Yes,” he responded. “I—okay. That sounds…perfect.” He ended softer than he intended.

He heard a soft huff of amusement. Well, maybe it was amusement. It was hard to tell because Jimin was looking down at his plate, too embarrassed to look up.

“You sure are cute,” Yoongi declared bluntly.

Jimin inhaled sharply and looked up. The other man’s eyes were dancing in delight. They met his full-on, and Jimin’s belly flipped.

“I’m not—”

Yoongi shook his head. “Oh, no, don’t you go denying that, sweetheart.”

Jimin pulled his bottom lip into his mouth out of habit and looked down at the food now on his plate. He decided it was safer to eat than to respond. He could tell that Yoongi was flirting with him. It felt strange, most certainly, to have a man speaking to him in such a manner…but also it was so very different from when women flirted with Jimin in the past.

When women flirted with him, they either went for the sultry, lilting tone—which Jimin always felt intimidated by because it made something in his skin crawl—or they used a sickeningly sweet, docile tone that implied he was supposed to initiate things. But the way Yoongi was talking to him right now was new. No one had ever called Jimin cute before. And it seemed like Jimin being cute was a good thing, if Yoongi’s tone was anything to go by.

Jimin decided that it felt good, although he wasn’t about to tell anyone that.

By the time they finished up breakfast and washed up the dishes, the frost outside was gone. In its place was lush greenery, and blue, blue skies. It was still a bit cooler than he was used to, but with the sun shining so brightly, it was like he had been magically transported into a land he’d only read about in fairytales.

They took the horses for a ride. Yoongi showed Jimin how to saddle up Sunny, and he only laughed a little bit at Jimin’s struggle to get onto the saddle. He showed Jimin how to hold the reins, explained to him how to use his legs for changing the gait, and then he hopped onto Chief as if it was nothing.

“No, wait—” Jimin protested as Yoongi and Chief immediately walked out of the stable.

Yoongi turned back and made a clicking sound with his mouth. “Come on, Sunny,” he called, and to Jimin’s surprise the mare immediately followed.

Jimin almost dropped the reins as he instinctively seized hold of the saddle’s horn, feeling as if he would be thrown off at any moment. Not because he thought the mare would throw him, but because of the bounce as she began to trot. His body didn’t know how to move with her, bouncing unevenly. She came up beside Chief and then slowed to match his gait.

“See?” Yoongi grinned. “Nothing to worry about. Sunny knows what she’s doing. Don’t you, old girl?” He reached out to pat her, and she shook her head with a jingle of her bridle.

Eventually, Jimin felt himself relax, and instead of staring only at the back of Sunny’s mane, he was able to look around their surroundings. The sun continued to climb higher in the sky, and he found himself sweating through his layers. The breeze was cool, though, and as Yoongi showed him the best parts of the river for fishing, the areas where wild rabbits burrowed, the thickets where the pheasants and grouse liked to hide, Jimin found himself truly enjoying the landscape. He imagined how someday he would be confident enough to go riding out here alone, and maybe even at a gallop, the wind rushing past his face.

It was a freeing thought.

It was nearly midday by the time they returned. Jimin didn’t realize they had been out for such a long time, but seeing as they had been mostly leisurely traversing the land, he supposed it made sense.

Yoongi helped him get down from Sunny once they reached the stable, gripping his hand firmly and catching him around the waist when he stumbled. Jimin was too tired to even be flustered by the touch. And he ached, too. He groaned as he felt the soreness in his rear.

Yoongi let out a laugh. “Ah, sorry—should’ve warned you that your ass will feel a bit sore after your first ride. But don’t worry,” he added quickly, “it’ll pass, and after you ride enough, you won’t feel it at all.”

Jimin decided to sit out on the porch and take a break while Yoongi put the horses in their pasture. He watched as Yoongi filled their water trough and gave them some carrots. Jimin could tell Yoongi was close with the horses just by observing the way he touched them and spoke with them. It was almost like he’d forgotten Jimin was there. Maybe he had. It seemed like Yoongi had been alone for quite some time before Jimin arrived. The other man must’ve been lonely; Jimin knew he would’ve been.

His gaze rose past Yoongi and the horses, off into the distance where he could see movement. Elk. He stared in awe at the large herd, only vaguely aware of Yoongi also turning to watch them. They seemed so majestic, with their enormous antlers and dark manes accenting their coppery summer coats.

Jimin never would have dreamed he would be in this situation, sitting on the front porch, watching as a herd of elk made their way through the moors. Their ‘bugles,’ as Yoongi called them, weren’t as frightening when Jimin could see them in daylight.

 

*

 

They went to visit the Jungs on Jimin’s third day. Yoongi fitted Sunny with two saddle bags full of smoked meat for trading, and they set off.

The closer they got to the ranch where cows were out grazing in a field, Jimin could see two people standing together beside the roof of a small shanty-like structure that seemed to be attached to a smaller hut—Jimin realized it was a chicken coop after he noticed the birds moving around by their feet. The man was much taller than the woman, with the top of her head only reaching his shoulders until he seemed to lower himself closer to her height.

Jimin startled when Yoongi suddenly whistled shrilly, and the couple moved away from each other to look toward them—he realized belatedly that they hadn’t simply been standing together, but had been kissing.

The man lifted his arm in the air in greeting, and now close enough, Jimin could see a wide grin upon his face.

“Yoongi! Howdy there!” he hollered, the joy in his voice unmistakable. “Brought your new husband, have you?”

Jimin glanced at Yoongi quickly, but Yoongi only raised his own hand in greeting and swung himself effortlessly off of his horse once they were only a few paces away. Jimin followed less gracefully, but was happy he at least landed on both feet and didn’t fall back on his rear to embarrass himself.

“Not married yet, Hoseok,” he heard Yoongi saying. The older man took the reins of both horses and led them over to some posts to tie them up. “We’re scheduled for next month.”

Jimin smiled politely at the couple, following a few feet behind Yoongi. He was surprised when he got a better view of Hoseok’s wife.

She wasn’t only beautiful; she was stunning. Somehow Jimin hadn’t been expecting to see someone so captivating out here in the middle of nowhere. It was like she had stepped right out of an expensive painting. Her dark brown hair was nearly black, and it hung loose in gentle waves that spilled over her shoulders nearly to her waist. Jimin didn’t think he’d seen such healthy, clean hair like hers before, and he wondered how it was even possible. She also wore bold, brighter colors than he was expecting, and even though she had an apron of sorts on to protect her dress, it looked like she had put care into her appearance.

“This is Jimin Park,” Yoongi introduced. “Jimin, this is Hoseok Jung and his wife Becky.”

Hoseok, who was perhaps about the same height as Yoongi, if not a little taller, strode forward and held out his hand to Jimin. “Welcome, Jimin! It’s nice to have ya here.”

“Thank you,” Jimin replied automatically, taking the other man’s hand and shaking it. He was about to give Becky a polite nod of greeting when she also came forward with her hand extended. The other two men didn’t seem to think anything was odd, though, so Jimin took her smaller hand, as well.

“I am so curious about you, Jimin,” she announced boldly as she looked up at him. She had a slight accent, as if she had been raised speaking Spanish instead of English. “Yoongi hasn’t told us much about you, but I may have to pull your story from you!”

“Now, now,” Hoseok laughed, “let’s not scare him off just yet! Oh, by the way,” he turned to Yoongi and Jimin, “we’ve got a big tree that fell in the storm the other day. Do you think you two could give us a hand with cutting it up?”

“Sure; of course,” Yoongi replied immediately. “I’ve brought some meat for you, as well. I was hoping to restock our dairy and eggs. Now with two of us, I think we’ll be going through everything a bit quicker.”

Yoongi went back over to Sunny to unpack the bags, and Becky carried the packages up to the house.

It didn’t take long for Jimin to see that Hoseok was very cheerful and loud, with a boisterous laugh that always seemed to send the rest of them into laughter. Becky, on the other hand, was sweet with some attitude. She and Hoseok were either flirting or bantering—but even the bantering felt more like flirtation than anything else.

Hoseok led them all out to where an old, old tree had uprooted and fallen right on top of a barbed wire fence. After some discussion of where the wood was going, they all got to work, including Becky. Jimin found himself fighting embarrassment when he had to admit that he’d never touched a saw or an ax before. The saw was easy enough to figure out, although quickly Jimin’s upper arm began to burn.

Once they had a good portion of the branches cut down into shorter pieces, Becky showed Jimin how to split the wood.

“How’d you stay warm in the city without a fire?” she asked him curiously, standing back to watch as Jimin attempted to swing the ax down and completely missed the piece of wood. “No, no; spread your legs a bit and put your hands together when you bring it down.” She wasn’t judgmental of him, and seemed more concerned that he’d hurt himself doing it wrong.

“Um, steam heat,” Jimin answered as he tried to follow her directions.

“Oh, I read about that,” Becky nodded. “Nothing like that out here, yet. They’re saying we could get electricity soon, though.”

“Yoongi mentioned that, too.” Jimin swung the ax down and it split the log right in half. He couldn’t help the swell of pride as he looked up, smiling.

“How old are you, Jimin?” Becky asked him suddenly, and his smile faded. She was frowning as if trying to answer her own question by looking at him.

“I’m twenty-two. Twenty-three in October.”

She whistled, and then turned to the others to shout at Yoongi, “You snatched a babe, Yoongi! Shame on you!”

Her tone and facial expression contradicted her words, however. Although Jimin could feel his face heating up, he could tell Becky was just teasing Yoongi.

“What are you going on about over there?” Yoongi called back, but Becky just ignored him.

“Yoongi’s the old man here,” she turned back to Jimin. “My Hoseok is twenty-nine, and I’m twenty-six.”

Although she didn’t necessarily look older than him, Jimin was surprised to hear that she was so close to him in age. “Have you been together long?” he asked as he continued to split logs, which she then stacked in a pile.

“About seven years, now.”

Jimin looked over at her in time to see the way she glanced toward her husband with a smile. Then she turned to Jimin with a mischievous look in her eyes.

“He was in a right bit of trouble when we met, but he was just too handsome and hopeless for me to leave him to suffer.” She didn’t elaborate, making Jimin wonder exactly what kind of trouble Hoseok had been in. “But then, he managed to sweep me off my feet and when he left to start a new life, I couldn’t let him go alone, even if my brothers weren’t too pleased with my choice of a man.” She pursed her lips briefly, probably recalling an unpleasant memory, but a moment later her smile was back. “I don’t regret it one bit, though. Not with the way Hoseok knows how to keep his wife satisfied, if you know what I mean.”

She winked at Jimin, whose eyes widened. He had never heard anyone—woman or man—be so boldly public in their words about intimacy. Was that just Becky’s personality, or were others like that out here?

“Anyway, now we’ve made a life for ourselves up here; with the ranch and our little ones’ keeping us busy, there’s not much time to miss my old life.”

Jimin missed the log he was about to split. “Little ones?”

There was a laugh from behind him, and Jimin turned to see Hoseok, followed closely behind by Yoongi.

“Yoongi didn’t tell you about our rascals?” Hoseok asked. He caught Becky around her small waist and pulled her tight against him. She went not only willingly, but enthusiastically, turning in his arms to hug him tight.

Jimin shook his head, glancing only briefly at Yoongi past Hoseok’s shoulder. “You have children?”

“Two six-year-old twin boys—Francisco after Becky’s father and brother—”

“Frankie,” Becky smiled widely.

“—and Alejandro—Alex—after her mother and other brother—”

Jimin frowned, feeling a little confused by that explanation.

“And then there’s little Marie, who’s nearly five now.”

Jimin looked around. “Where…?”

“The boys are at the schoolhouse, and little Marie is napping inside,” Becky answered. “If you two join us for lunch, you’ll get to meet her then.”

 

*

 

Yoongi kept glancing over at Jimin and Becky while he and Hoseok continued to saw the rest of the tree trunk into more manageable pieces. They kept a few larger pieces in case they could make use of them later, setting those aside to be hauled by the horses. It was interesting to observe the younger man interacting with someone else. Although it had only been three days now, Yoongi got the impression that Jimin was hiding something from him.

In his letters, Jimin had seemed so confident. He had a sure tone, and although it was clear he was naïve and ignorant about a few things, he had never given Yoongi the impression that he was as shy as he had turned out to be. Jimin was sweet and shy in a way Yoongi had not been expecting. At the same time, he had noticed that Jimin seemed jumpy and easily startled. Perhaps it had to do with the train robbery, but something told Yoongi it wasn’t just that.

Jimin seemed uncomfortable, mostly when they were in close quarters. He was often tense, especially if they were close enough to touch. But he didn’t think it was because Jimin was disappointed in Yoongi as a future husband. Yoongi could tell Jimin was attracted to him. The way he would blush, the way he was unable to hold Yoongi’s gaze.

Not only that, but watching the way Jimin acted differently around Hoseok and Becky was somewhat telling. Jimin, although clearly shy at first when meeting them, seemed to quickly open up as they worked on the fallen tree. Jimin was a good learner and hard worker, listening intently and following directions well when told he was doing something incorrectly.

As Becky and Jimin moved over to work on splitting logs for firewood, Yoongi could see that Jimin was swiftly getting acquainted with Becky’s personality.

“How are things going so far?” Hoseok asked him, drawing Yoongi’s attention away.

“I don’t know what I had expected,” Yoongi started, “and I know it’s only been three days, but it almost feels like…like he’s just a guest in my house. We’re sleeping in the same bed, but I haven’t touched him, and he hasn’t seemed inclined to initiate anything himself. It’s strange, almost.”

“Have you talked about…anything? You’re still getting married, right? You’re not just testing things out right now and deciding later?”

“Ah, no. We are—the plan is we’ll be marrying next month,” Yoongi said for the second time. “But we haven’t—do you think we should just sit down and have a conversation about it?” The idea seemed ridiculous. Usually when Yoongi was in relationships, there was so much intense arousal between him and his partners that there was no need for having conversations about it. They just got to it. With Jimin, though, Yoongi felt like he shouldn’t just jump immediately into sexual intimacy, though.

Hoseok shrugged. “Could be helpful. It’s not a traditional marriage, after all. You’re two strangers still. And unlike Harrington, who was looking for a wife to give him children, you’re not trying to create a family. You’re trying to create a long-term companionship.”

Yoongi hummed in acknowledgement. Hoseok did have a point.

“You snatched a babe, Yoongi! Shame on you!” Becky suddenly exclaimed loudly.

Yoongi looked back over at them. “What are you going on about over there?” he hollered, but was ignored as she went back to animatedly talking with Jimin.

Beside him, Hoseok cackled. “Better watch out what stories she tells him, Yoongi.”

Yoongi just shook his head. “There’s no keeping your woman’s mouth shut. Might as well just brace myself for the consequences.”

“Don’t I know it.”

As usual, Hoseok’s voice was fond. Even after so many years together, the two still acted like they were in the honeymoon phase of their relationship. Even with the stress of the ranch, even with their boys and their little girl, it was plain to see that the couple were still madly in love with each other. Yoongi wondered if he and Jimin would ever have that kind of love between them. It would be nice to have that kind of passion in his life again.

Hoseok groaned. “I think I’m done for now. Let’s take a break.”

They set down their saws and headed over toward Jimin and Becky in time to see Jimin swing and completely miss the log he was aiming for. Yoongi smiled to himself. There was just something about Jimin that tugged at his heartstrings, that was for sure.

After some talk of the three children, which Yoongi had forgotten to mention to Jimin, they all headed up toward the house for some lunch. Becky went to wake Marie while the rest of them went into the kitchen. Hoseok pulled out a large loaf of bread and began slicing pieces, counting them to make sure there were ten pieces. Then he pulled out some cans of sardines, sliced some big tomatoes, and pulled out a container of cheese.

Everyone turned as the sound of a fussy child entered the kitchen. Becky had Marie on her hip, and Yoongi smiled at the way Marie’s wavy brown hair was flattened on one side, sticking up on the other. She was complaining in mumbled words against her mother, clearly not ready to be woken.

“Lunch is almost ready, little chickadee,” Hoseok called to her. Marie stopped whining for barely a moment as she located her father, and then resumed whining unhappily.

“Marie, we have guests,” Becky nudged her and then peeled her away from her body to set her in her taller chair. “Let’s be polite and say hello, hmm?”

Marie opened one eye enough to spot Jimin first, and her whining quieted down in the face of a stranger.

“Hi there, Marie,” Yoongi spoke up. “Meet Jimin Park. We’re to be married next month.”

Her second eye popped open. “Married?” Yoongi knew she loved playing marriage with all of her dolls and toy animals. She had seen a wedding in town a few months ago, and had been making all of her toys get married since.

“That’s right. Mr. Park came all the way from New York City to marry Mr. Min.”

“Nice to meet you, Marie,” Jimin smiled sweetly, holding out his hand for hers. She hesitated for a moment before holding out her wrong hand, which he then held gently for a moment before letting go. Marie became bashful and reached for her mother to try to hide her face.

They all pulled up chairs around the table to tuck into their lunch of sardine sandwiches. Marie didn’t want to eat her sandwich at first, but once Hoseok pulled it all apart and slathered some butter onto her bread, she began to eat each part individually, saving the tomato—her favorite part—for last.

Jimin was mostly quiet throughout the meal, but Yoongi noticed his eyes taking in the interior of the Jungs’ home. Yoongi took the moment to also see the differences between his house and theirs. The Jungs’ home wasn’t necessarily fancy, but they had more furniture, and more storage areas with a proper pantry. Hoseok was an amateur carpenter, mostly out of necessity. It also had a more lived-in feel to it.

Yoongi never really thought about it before, be he realized how simple and plain his house was. He wondered how Jimin felt about it. Perhaps they could buy some furniture next time they were in town. Yoongi didn’t know anything about building things. He could figure out how to repair what needed to be repaired, but that was about it.

After some more conversation, they all said their goodbyes. Yoongi and Jimin went back home with milk, cream, eggs, cheese, and also some slices of juneberry pie. Becky baked them the day before, but everyone was too full from lunch to eat right then.

 

*

 

“Wait a minute; you’ve only lived here for a few years?” Jimin’s fork paused halfway to his mouth, the piece of juneberry pie from Becky hovering precariously in the air. He and Yoongi were sitting out on the porch later that afternoon, enjoying their slices of juneberry pie with mugs of coffee, chatting about this and that.

“Well, yes,” Yoongi said, but he sounded like it wasn’t quite the full truth. “I guess I was born here, but I didn’t grow up here. I only returned recently to care for my ill father.”

Jimin frowned. “But didn’t your father live here for many years? I thought you said—”

“Yes. But my mother and I—” Yoongi broke off, then sighed before speaking again. “My father wasn’t a good man. He was a rich man from all of the silver and gold he found, and he was a smart business man, well-liked by the community, but he wasn’t a good man. My mother took me away when I was very small. I was too young to understand exactly what may or may not have happened between them, but I know that my mother took me away with her. We lived in Colorado until she died in a fire when I was about fifteen or so.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. That’s awful.” Jimin had wondered about Yoongi’s mother.

Yoongi shrugged. “It’s been a long time. She wasn’t the only one who had died in the fire—it was at the tailor’s shop where she worked.”

“Still.”

They were quiet for a moment as they ate and Yoongi sipped his coffee. Jimin wondered if he should say something, but before he could think of what to say, or ask, Yoongi continued speaking.

“After she died, I returned here to look for my father. I didn’t know much of him, I didn’t even remember him, really. But I knew he was potentially still alive and I knew the general area where he lived. He welcomed me back, and for a while it seemed that I would grow up and make a life for myself here, but then he used to talk about the past, about my mother and I. And I realized why she had left.

“So I left, again. I was…sixteen? Yes, about sixteen, I think. I left.” Yoongi was silent for a moment. “And then, many years later, I learned of his declining health, and so I returned to care for him. There was no fight in him by this point, there was nowhere for me to focus my anger, and so my anger just…faded, I suppose. I didn’t see the point when nature decided to punish him in its own way. And I was older, of course.”

“What did you…where did you go for all those years? What did you do?”

Yoongi glanced at him briefly, then turned away, looking out over the land. “I traveled. I…worked, and traveled. Been to New York City a few times, in fact,” he smirked. “It’s possible we’ve met before.”

“I doubt that,” Jimin shook his head. “I would have remembered you.”

“That handsome, huh?”

Jimin struggled to say something, flustered, but then he realized Yoongi was joking.

“And your family?” Yoongi asked. He already knew that Jimin’s parents had both passed. Jimin hadn’t mentioned how, though.

“Cholera,” Jimin murmured. “Last year. Within days of each other. I alone was spared.” He didn’t like to think about it. Within a week, he had suddenly become all alone. The funeral costs had been steep, and then bit by bit over the course of the year his life had fallen apart. Jimin hadn’t been close with his father, either, but he had never done well alone. Shy, but dependent on the connection and community of others.

He startled when he felt fingers in his hair. Looking up, he realized that his eyes had grown wet, and Yoongi had set down his coffee so he could card his fingers through Jimin’s hair in a soothing manner. It sent shivers down his spine, as if forcing him into a calmer, more relaxed state.

“It must have been hard,” Yoongi said, voice low.

Jimin could only nod.

After some time, Yoongi stood up and rolled his shoulders as if to loosen stiff muscles from not moving for too long.

“Tomorrow morning, I will begin hunting again,” he announced. “So, I’ll be gone when you wake. I think it’d be a good idea to teach you how to shoot a gun, in case something happens when I’m not here.”

The calm Jimin felt from before tightened in nervousness. He wasn’t sure if it was at the prospect of having to shoot a gun, or the idea of Yoongi thinking it necessary for him to know how to shoot one.

“Even Becky knows how to shoot,” Yoongi added. “They have to protect their cows from wolves on occasion, and their chickens from coyotes.”

Together, far away from the house, they set up a big, old steel plate with a three-circle target drawn on it. Yoongi showed Jimin how to load and handle both his rifle and his revolver. Jimin watched as the older man demonstrated, with sharp accuracy, how to shoot. When he put the revolver into Jimin’s hands, Jimin swallowed. He didn’t like it one bit. But he understood that he needed to be able to protect himself. Be it from an animal predator, or another person, he already knew that life out here in the west was not safe.

The first bullet hit the lower edge of the steel plate, and Jimin stumbled from the kickback. Yoongi’s hand steadied him for a moment before letting go.

“Good. Try again. Aim a little higher. Just an inch higher should be enough.”

Jimin did as he suggested, preparing himself for the force—and noise—of the gunshot, and this time the bullet hit just within the outermost circle. He continued practicing for a little while more before Yoongi took the revolver and replaced it with the rifle. Jimin was surprised at how heavy it was. Yoongi held it like it weighed nothing.

They stopped once the steel plate was riddled with bullet holes. Jimin didn’t know how effective he would be with a gun, but at least now he know how to use one if the situation arose where he would need to.

 

The next morning, Jimin slowly woke up. With no smells of coffee or cooking, no sounds to disturb his sleep, he slept quite late. It was nearly nine. He stretched, gradually rising from the warmth of the blankets. The house was colder than usual, and he realized it must be because no one was there to keep the fire going in the cookstove. He knew there wouldn’t be anything in the fireplace; they usually only had a fire burn there if they were both in that room to tend to it.

Rather than get dressed immediately, Jimin threw on a sweater and went out into the kitchen to build a fire up. Yoongi had taught him how to start the fire from nothing, but it seemed like there were some slightly warm coals still flickering inside, so he gathered them together in a pile before arranging kindling over them. He blew gently upon the coals, feeling their heat as they lit up brightly, nearly white. After a few tries, the most delicate of the kindling finally started to catch. He placed some slightly larger pieces of wood on top of the burning kindling, and then stacked larger firewood atop. He continued to crouch beside the cookstove, watching until it grew bigger and hotter. When he was sure it wouldn’t die down, he stood and closed the door.

He then returned to the bedroom to dress for the day.

Jimin spent the morning cleaning around the house. Meeting the Jungs, seeing how they worked together on their ranch and in their house, it made Jimin think about how he had nothing to contribute. He knew nothing about homesteading, he knew nothing about tending to a house, he knew nothing about living in the great west. He felt so useless.

Not to mention, Yoongi had made it abundantly clear how he didn’t want a wife, so did that mean he wanted Jimin to be manlier? Jimin didn’t fully understand how this worked. But either way, he felt useless, and he hated feeling useless.

Yoongi still hadn’t returned by the time he finished a bit of straightening up, so Jimin decided to go say hello to Chief and Sunny. It was already warming up a bit outside, so he only needed a sweater over his shirt. The horses were in their stalls, and it didn’t look like they had eaten yet, so Jimin brought them their feed and checked their water, and after a moment of consideration mucked out their stalls.

When he finished up with the horses, Jimin headed back to the house, but he noticed that the wood pile was messy, so he organized it a bit. He thought it would be better to have the wood closer to the house and covered so they could more easily get wood in the winter months. He considered bringing the wood over, but he wasn’t sure if he should, so he would have to wait and ask Yoongi when he returned.

It was very late morning by the time Yoongi returned. He was hauling a deer. Jimin watched as Yoongi strung up the deer on some kind of pulley-system stand before coming toward him.

“Sleep well?” he asked Jimin as he headed past Jimin into the house.

Jimin followed him, glancing back at the deer hanging upside down out in the yard. “Yes, thank you. I fed the horses,” he added. “And mucked their stalls.”

Yoongi smiled at him. “Thank you.”

Jimin felt warm inside. He watched as Yoongi gathered some knives, the sharpening stone, and several large containers. He brought them back outside, and then Jimin watched in horrified fascination as Yoongi proceeded to skin and butcher it.

There was absolutely no way Jimin could do that. He felt a little queasy just looking at it. But he felt like he needed to man up and at least try to know what Yoongi did.

When Yoongi finished, he took buckets of water and a white powder that turned out to be borax to the area.

“We don’t need predators coming in search of the meat,” he said. “Of course, I’m sure there’s no way to completely mask it, but at least it’s a start.”

The rest of the day they spent building up a fire to smoke some of the venison, salt most of the rest, and then of course they kept some fresh for a nice dinner that night. It was as they were sitting down to a delicious dinner of venison steaks with bread, butter, cheese, and then canned carrots cooked with onions and spices, that Jimin remembered about the wood pile.

“Yoongi?”

“Hmm?”

“I was thinking…well, the wood pile is rather far from the house, right?”

“I suppose.”

“Well, in the winter, it’ll be a lot of trouble to go get more firewood whenever we run low. So I was thinking maybe we could move the pile closer to the house? And…and maybe build a cover over it to protect the wood from the rain and snow? I mean, that is…I could do it?” Jimin didn’t like how timid he sounded. He didn’t actually know how to do it, but maybe he could try.

Yoongi finished chewing, looking thoughtful. “That’s an idea. If you want to, go right ahead.” He paused and swallowed a gulp of his whiskey. “You know, you can do whatever you want to, Jimin. You don’t need to ask me for permission. Unless it’s a big change, of course, then maybe we should discuss it together first. But otherwise you can do whatever you like. This is your home, too, now.”

Jimin wasn’t sure why he was surprised, but he happily nodded. “Okay. I can start tomorrow, then.”

For some reason, Jimin felt excited as he climbed into bed that night. Yoongi had found him an old notebook and a pencil, and Jimin had started to sketch out some ideas to plan out the wood storage before they turned in for the night.

“Oh, Yoongi?” he spoke through the darkness suddenly.

Yoongi hummed.

“Will you help me find wood to use to make the storage area for the firewood?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, and do we have tools?”

“There’s a bunch of tools in the stable. I can show you tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” Jimin snuggled farther down under the blankets, not even realizing that he was curled on his side, facing Yoongi. He fell asleep to the ideas of tomorrow’s project swirling around his mind.

 

The morning dawned gray, but otherwise dry. Together, he and Yoongi gathered old lumber left in the stable, some old shingles that may have been left over from the building of the house. They looked old, but okay to use. Then, Yoongi showed Jimin the wall and shelves of tools.

“I don’t know what most of these tools do, I’m gonna be honest with you,” he said. “They were my father’s. You could ask Hoseok about them and have him show you how to use them.”

Jimin, too, had no idea what most of them were, but he spotted a hammer, nails, and a saw, which he took. “I think this is all I need for now, but I’ll be sure to ask Hoseok another time.”

Jimin spent all day outside, working on building the storage area for the firewood. It wasn’t necessarily all that pretty, but he knew what he wanted it to look like, so he did his best to bring his imagination to life. Yoongi would come by every so often to check on him and compliment his progress. Jimin didn’t realize how wonderful of a time he would have creating the firewood storage. Even though he made several mistakes and had to redo a few places when he realized his mistakes, he found he greatly enjoyed the process. And, at long last when he stood back to look at its completed form, he thought it didn’t look too bad at all!

It was the first time Jimin had ever created something all by himself. He realized after a moment that he felt…proud of himself. He didn’t think he had ever felt proud of himself for anything in the past.

“Looks good. Need help loading it up?”

Jimin startled at Yoongi’s voice, coming up from behind him. He had been checking on the drying deer pelt.

“Sure. Thanks.” Together they carried all of the wood over to the new storage area to restack it.

“This will make a world of difference in the winter,” Yoongi nodded. “You have no idea how much of a pain it is when there are three feet of snow and you have to trudge through it to get more wood to keep from freezing inside the house.”

 

*

 

Days passed. Jimin became more and more comfortable around Yoongi. However, the more comfortable around the other man he became, the more he felt confused. He kept having strange feelings about Yoongi. The only way Jimin could put the feelings to words was if he compared it to when he was younger, and he had admired one of his seniors in school. It had been another boy who was smart, and clever, and handsome, although Jimin thought perhaps he didn’t realize the handsomeness had anything to do with it. He thought he was just looking up to his senior, out of respect. He remembered wanting the older boy to notice him and talk to him, and whenever he did notice Jimin, he would feel flustered and excited for the rest of the day.

Now, though, Jimin was feeling all of that and more around Yoongi. It came to a head when he accidentally watched Yoongi using the well pump to fill a bucket and then soak himself on a particularly hot day. Yoongi had been working out with the horses and fixing a fence that had rotted through; he was covered in dirt and sweat, and rather than properly sponge himself clean, the older man simply took off his shirt and dumped the bucket of cold water over himself.

Jimin had been on the porch—he couldn’t even recall what he was doing, now—and his eyes had widened at the sight. Yoongi’s brown nipples had pebbled from the cold, his defined muscles had convulsed slightly as they reacted to the shock of cold water, and when Yoongi lifted a second bucket over himself to wash the rest of the dirt away, Jimin couldn’t take his eyes off of the way his biceps became even more prominent.

Something horribly embarrassing twisted in his lower abdomen, and with a silent gasp Jimin turned away and hurried inside. He caught sight of his face in the one mirror they had in the washroom, and was mortified of how flushed he looked.

Jimin felt on edge and restless for the remainder of the day. As they turned in for the night, he tried to not look when Yoongi changed out of his shirt, startling slightly when the other man didn’t put on an undershirt for sleeping in as usual. Yoongi didn’t seem to notice Jimin’s chaotic thoughts, though, and as usual, they climbed into bed together and extinguished the lantern.

Jimin rolled onto his side, facing away from Yoongi. He quickly realized why the other man had foregone a shirt—the night was warmer than usual, and very soon Jimin felt too hot. He did his best to ignore it, however, and eventually he drifted to sleep.

 

The morning dawned comfortably warm. Still partially asleep, Jimin pushed down his covers and gazed out the window. It was quiet, but for the birds outside. Yoongi was out fishing this morning.

It was then that Jimin noticed his body had become…aroused, during his sleep. In the period of a few moments, he realized that not only had it been a while since Jimin had touched himself, but also that he had been purposely trying to suppress any kind of sexual thoughts lately. He had been feeling them creep upon him more and more recently, not in any particular way, but just that he felt…frustrated.

He also realized that now would be the perfect time to give into the arousal; Yoongi wasn’t home, and he likely wouldn’t return for an hour or two. Jimin would have privacy.

He hesitantly slid his hand down his body, lying on his back in bed. His heart raced, probably because he didn’t want to get caught. And he was doing this in the same bed that Yoongi slept in, too. Unconsciously, he turned his head on his pillow, and looked at the empty space where Yoongi had been sleeping. His hand dipped into his pants and wrapped around his now throbbing erection. Without thinking, he recalled the way Yoongi had looked last night, naked torso visible above the blankets. Firm and strong.

He hissed at the tingle of sensation as he squeezed himself and began to slowly stroke up the shaft. His hand was dry, though, so he pulled his hand back up and spit upon it. This time, the slide was more comfortable. Jimin bit his lip as pleasure coursed through his body. He couldn’t get the image of Yoongi out of his mind, and the more he recalled—his smirk, his hands, his voice—the more overwhelmed Jimin felt.

He gasped quietly, starting to pant as he felt his release grow ever closer. He pumped himself faster, more roughly, until far too soon he felt himself climax, spilling semen through his fingers, onto his stomach.

Jimin lay frozen for a moment, breathing heavily, blood rushing in his ears. As the sounds of the birds came back to him, horror came over him. What had he just done? Had he…had he reached orgasm by thinking about another man? That had never happened before. Never. Usually, he just didn’t think of anything at all.

Jimin quickly sat up and flung himself from the bed. He hurriedly cleaned himself up, and did his best to clean the few places where his release got on the blankets. Luckily, he didn’t think Yoongi would notice something like that.

Jimin spent the morning in a flustered panic, barely tasting his breakfast, nearly burning his tongue on his coffee. He didn’t know what to think. Of course, it was normal for Yoongi to think these things, right? But Jimin, he had never…he was only marrying Yoongi for the convenience. Out of curiosity. It wasn’t as if he, himself, desired…men? Or did he? What was going on?

By the time Yoongi returned from fishing, a bucket full of trout with him, Jimin had managed to calm down, and he made sure he acted normal. Yoongi was none the wiser.

 

*

 

Jimin looked out the window. It had been raining almost non-stop since the morning before. While at first it had been somewhat relaxing, being stuck inside was starting to grow boring. Yoongi had spent most of the day cleaning his guns, reading, and cleaning the house itself. Jimin had joined him in the last two activities, but now he let his book fall open upon his lap as he stared out at the rain. He didn’t realize he had sighed until he heard a soft chuckle.

He turned to find Yoongi looking amused.

“If you want to get soaked to the bone you’re welcome to go out there,” he said lightly. “It’s not too cold. Just wet, you know.”

Jimin knew he was being teased. “I’m not a child,” he retorted. “I wouldn’t…go splashing about in the mud.”

“I have to go out there to feed Chief and Sunny. I’m not keen to go, but if you want to…” he trailed off. One eyebrow rose.

Jimin looked back at the window and thought about it. The idea of fresh air after being stuck inside all day did sound appealing.

“Okay,” he said. Yoongi looked surprised when he turned back to him.

“Okay?”

Jimin nodded. “I’ll go if you don’t want to.”

“Oh.” Yoongi seemed taken aback, but then nodded as well. “All right, then. Use my pommel slicker and the rubber boots.”

Jimin felt a little silly when he put his feet into the boots and his arms through the sleeves of the mustardy coat. It was so long that it almost reached the ground, and he had to fold up the sleeves a bit.

“Have fun,” Yoongi said, from right behind him. He’d followed Jimin to the door. His eyes traveled down over Jimin’s figure and his eyes crinkled in amusement. “We’ll have to get you your own slicker and boots. Don’t trip.”

Jimin huffed, not one to admit how much he enjoyed the teasing Yoongi sent his way.

Stepping outside, the cool, fresh air washed over him like a coastal breeze. He took a moment to close his eyes and take it in before he straightened his shoulders and ventured out into the rain. Almost immediately he realized he’d forgotten a very important piece of his outfit: a hat. Within seconds his hair was plastered to his head, and although the rest of him remained dry, the water dripped and seeped down through the collar of the slicker and spread downward.

He hurried through the rain to the stable, gasping loudly when he made it inside. The horses huffed at him.

“I’ve come to feed you,” he called out, shaking his hands dry before stepping over to pet their faces and necks affectionately.

Jimin took his time feeding the horses and talking to them before he braced himself for the deluge again. He was so blinded by the rain that he didn’t realize Yoongi was standing out on the porch until he ran up the steps and crashed into him.

“Oh!”

“Woah, there!”

Slick with rain, Jimin’s boots slipped over the wood from the sudden stop, and Yoongi’s hands locked quickly around his waist to keep him from flying backwards onto his rear.

Jimin gasped and grabbed onto Yoongi’s now wet shirt, staring up in surprise.

“Yoongi!”

“Careful there, Jimin,” Yoongi laughed, eyes once again skimming down over him.

Jimin realized that Yoongi hadn’t let go of his waist. It felt intimate despite the layers of clothing between them.

“What’re you—” Jimin broke off when he also realized how close their faces were. He felt his cheeks bloom with heat. He saw Yoongi’s eyes flicker down to his mouth, and inadvertently Jimin’s did the same.

Yoongi’s lips were so close. What was this strange feeling? His heart began to beat faster in his chest. Yoongi’s hands around his waist were firm, and so much larger than he’d truly realized.

“I—”

“Jimin.” Yoongi’s voice was low, and quiet.

Jimin took in a shuddering breath. “What?”

“I’d like to kiss you.”

Jimin’s eyes widened, but he didn’t pull back. Instead, his gaze once again shot down to the other man’s mouth. What would it feel like, to have those lips upon his? If they were to marry, they would…they would be kissing, wouldn’t they? Wouldn’t it be best to…try it out here, in the privacy of their home?

“Okay,” Jimin found himself whispering. Yoongi didn’t react other than to suddenly lean in. Just before he was too close, Jimin shut his eyes.

Yoongi’s lips were warm against his. Gentle. But firm. They weren’t wet like the women Jimin had kissed before. They also didn’t taste of lip color. They only tasted of skin. Of Yoongi.

For a brief moment, Yoongi just pressed his lips to Jimin’s. But then he began to move them against Jimin’s. Sucking carefully at Jimin’s lower lip before moving upward and brushing over his upper lip. Instinctually Jimin moved with him.

It was strange, to tilt his head up to kiss someone. It was also strange to not lead the kiss. For it was very obvious that Yoongi was the one leading the kiss. Jimin felt he didn’t mind; in fact, there was something about the whole thing that made him feel…cared for. Safe within Yoongi’s arms, mouths moving against each other, it was somehow soothing in a way he would have never expected.

Before he knew it, Yoongi drew back. His eyes, which had been filled with amusement just moments before, were now calm and warm.

“Let’s get back inside, shall we?”

It was only once they were inside and Jimin had been divested of the pommel slicker and boots that he realized Yoongi hadn’t tried using his tongue. Looking back, it had been a very tame kiss. Nothing like what he would have expected.

Part of Jimin wondered what it would feel like, to have Yoongi kiss him like that.

 

 

*

 

 

Notes:

I'm so curious about your thoughts so far! Fun fact, I looked up sandwich recipes from the late 1800s and then out of curiosity made the same kind of 'sandwich' (mine was open-faced) as they ate at the Jungs' because my parents had canned sardines. It was honestly pretty good! :)

Chapter 3: Chapter III

Notes:

Soooooo many things happen in this chapter you are in for an absolute treat. I've been writing like crazy before I have to return to work tomorrow, so I really wanted to finish this and get it posted!!

Fun fact: I looked up actual historical costs of goods during this chapter, so all of the prices of things are completely historically accurate for the time and location! :D

Prepare your hearts for the sexual tension in this chapter...

Enjoy!

 

Chapter III

 

Jimin couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss.

A few more days passed, but they didn’t kiss again. However, Jimin noticed that Yoongi seemed to be touching him a little more. They were small touches; hands on his shoulders as Yoongi came up behind him, hands circling Jimin’s waist as Yoongi moved around him in the house…sometimes he even played with Jimin’s fingers at the table or as they lay in bed together talking about the next day’s plans before falling asleep. The touches often left tingling across his skin in their wake.

Jimin had to admit to himself that he loved the warm feeling it gave him. Jimin had always loved affection, but as he grew older, he didn’t get to enjoy it nearly as much as he liked. It was pleasant to be on the receiving end of such attention.

Today, though, Yoongi kept putting his hand upon Jimin’s back as they walked around the common at the farmers’ gathering. Small, fluffy clouds floated high overhead, and the sunshine bathed the town in warmth. They didn’t need jackets today, although they were left inside the wagon for the ride home in case the wind picked up or the temperature dropped later.

At first, Jimin was very much distracted by the hand on his lower back which was not quite guiding him, not quite holding him close, but just a warm presence. His attention was eventually captured by the many people moving around the gathering on the common. Although mostly men, there were also many women, and several had come with their children.

They had already stopped by the Jungs’ wagon to purchase a few things and mention to Hoseok about the tools in the stable. The rancher agreed to come by some day when he had spare time and see what they were working with.

Yoongi leaned in toward Jimin’s ear. “I’ve brought plenty of money with me, so just let me know if there’s anything you need, or anything that strikes your interest. Don’t worry about the cost.”

However, Jimin had no intention of demanding any purchases. He was used to being careful with his money. Just because he was out here in the west, with a new life, he didn’t see a reason to change the way he took care to be frugal. And yet, he must have looked too long at a farmer’s collection of fresh and dried apples, because Yoongi urged him forward and before Jimin knew what was happening, fifty cents had been passed over, and ten delicious-looking apples went into Yoongi’s bag.

They refilled their stock of flour, and filled a basket with fresh tomatoes, peppers, carrots, onions, lettuce… Yoongi seemed to know many of the people by name, even though Jimin recalled that he had said he wasn’t very sociable. A few had asked him about his pelts and meat from hunting; he told them that he would bring them next time.

Both of their arms were full when someone called out Yoongi’s name. Together, they turned to see a young man waving from a small table upon which were candles of all sizes and colors. Jimin heard Yoongi snort beside him.

“Taehyung,” he muttered. “All right, let’s go entertain the little fucker.”

Jimin’s eyes widened slightly. Was this someone Yoongi didn’t like? He followed Yoongi over to the table of candles, surprised at the genuine, wide boxy smile that spread across the young man’s face. He was incredibly handsome in an almost whimsical way, Jimin thought. Tall and slender, he had his wavy brown hair grown past his ears, nearly touching the collar of his shirt. It seemed more intentional compared to other men Jimin had seen around these parts with longer hair. He had kept his bangs somewhat trimmed, though. He somehow looked windswept and yet still nicely put-together.

“How’re your brothers doing?” Yoongi said as soon as they were within a few feet.

The man rolled his eyes with a smile. “You ask after my brothers before you ask after me? And who’s this handsome man beside you? No introduction?”

Yoongi set down the barrel of flour he’d been carrying. “This is Jimin Park, from New York. Jimin, this is Taehyung Kim. He’s the youngest brother of the Kim family. The eldest, Seokjin, runs the saloon, Namjoon is the community schoolteacher, and then Taehyung here, well he’s a bit of a wild spirit, I say. He’s the same age as you,” he added.

Taehyung seemed satisfied with the introduction. “Pleased to meet you, Jimin. My brothers like to say I ‘follow the will of the wind rather than the word of sense,’ but who’s to decide what sense is sensible?”

“I—well, I never thought of that, before, I suppose.” Jimin was a bit flummoxed, but also fascinated. There was just something so captivating and intriguing about the other young man.

“Do you want candles?” Taehyung asked suddenly, drawing their attention to the table between them. “I’ve been experimenting with some new techniques, including new shapes using molds, and I’m rather pleased with how they’ve turned out.”

“Just the usual ones are fine, thanks,” Yoongi replied.

Taehyung pouted. “You’re so uninteresting, Mr. Min,” he sighed dramatically, getting a huff of a laugh from Yoongi.

“Well, unless Jimin wants some fancy candles from you, all we need are the usual.”

“‘We’?” Taehyung narrowed his eyes suspiciously and honed in his gaze on Jimin’s face, even as his long fingers deftly began packaging up a collection of simple, long candles. “Jimin Park from New York, what is the purpose of this visit?”

Jimin felt a cold, uncomfortable rush of anxiety run through him. Was he about to be the target of another merciless barrage of hateful words?

Yoongi, however, simply clicked his tongue. “We’re to be married, Taehyung. I put out an ad in the papers out east, and he answered it.”

Taehyung’s eyes lit up, and he immediately dropped the package of candles. Then, before Jimin knew what was happening, the young man had nearly flown around the side of the table, grabbed the basket of produce out of Jimin’s hands to set surprisingly gently on the ground considering his energy—and then threw his arms around Jimin to embrace him tightly. As if they were the absolute closest of family.

“I knew this was going to happen,” Yoongi groaned.

“Oh, I’m so excited for you,” Taehyung said against Jimin’s skull, squeezing him once more before finally letting go. He stepped back but kept his hands on Jimin’s shoulders. “Yoongi is such a lonely, lonely, old man. But he deserves someone lovely like you. I think you will be perfect. I tried to tempt him a few times a year or two ago myself, but he—”

“No thank you,” Yoongi interrupted firmly.

“—he doesn’t seem to think we’d be a good match.” Taehyung didn’t sound overly affected by the supposed romantic rejection. Rather, just disappointed in his failure.

“You…” Jimin didn’t know what to say. “You desire men?” he whispered quietly.

Taehyung let out a loud laugh. “What a way to put it,” he glanced at Yoongi. “But yes, I suppose I do!” He then winked at Jimin. “It’s much better when they desire me, of course.”

Jimin’s cheeks heated up, and was mortified when Taehyung outright pointed it out.

“Oh, he’s a catch, Yoongi.”

“Leave him alone, he’s shy. And don’t you go stealing him from me,” he added gruffly.

Jimin had an overwhelming, split-second thought that he wished he could bury his face against Yoongi’s shoulder to hide from the conversation. But then the realization of what he was thinking about made him even more flustered, and he didn’t know where to look. Instead of looking at the two men, he decided to focus on the candles. He grabbed a thick red one and pretended to look at it.

“Oh!” Taehyung exclaimed, and hurried back to the other side of his table. “Do you like that one? He went on to explain all about the color and the process, and by the time he stopped talking, Jimin had three different very pretty candles in his hands that were more for decorative lighting than for being practical candles.

Yoongi didn’t complain one bit as he paid Taehyung for all of the candles, however.

“Are you two planning to stop by the saloon for a drink today?” Taehyung asked as they gathered everything back into their arms. “I expect to be here for an hour or two more, but then I was gonna head back.”

Jimin glanced at Yoongi.

“We have a few more stops in town, but I don’t see why not. It’ll be good for Jimin to learn the town.”

“Yoongi?” Jimin asked as they finished loading up the wagon with their purchases from the market a little while later.

“Hm?”

“I thought…you said that there weren’t many others like you out here. In your advertisement.”

“Others like me? Oh, you’re talking about Taehyung?” Yoongi laughed and shook his head. “That man is too dramatic and flouncy for me. I don’t have the energy to deal with his antics. We would not be a good match at all.”

“Oh.” Jimin had thought Taehyung seemed like a burst of sunshine, something he wouldn’t mind being around more often. He seemed fun.

Yoongi’s arm found its way around Jimin’s shoulders as they walked back toward the town center. “I think you and I are a good match, though.”

Jimin looked up, surprised. “You do?”

“Yes. It’s hard to explain, but I just have a good feeling. It hasn’t even been a month, but you’re already adapting so well to life here, with the horses, with your wood storage… I can tell you’re a hard worker, which is a necessary skill out here. And—” he paused, holding Jimin’s gaze for a moment before lowering his voice, “you’re the perfect combination of handsome, beautiful, and cute.”

Jimin felt shivers run through his body. He didn’t realize he had fisted his fingers into the side of Yoongi’s shirt. “You think I’m beautiful?” he asked. But then he shook his head and cleared the fog. “Men aren’t supposed to be beautiful, though.” It felt like he was pushing a soft, shining part of himself back through a dark door, kicking it until it quieted and settled.

“Why not?” Yoongi frowned at him.

“Well, I was always told that only women are beautiful, and that it’s disgraceful for a man to be beautiful.”

“That’s bullshit,” Yoongi spat. “Nothing wrong with being beautiful. In fact, I bet you’d have to work hard to not be beautiful. You can’t help it.” He touched one of Jimin’s cheeks, holding it gently within the palm of his hand. Jimin thought he couldn’t breathe for a moment.

“Yoongi…”

The older man’s face drew closer, but Jimin remembered where they were, and squeaked as he ducked his head and reflexively pushed Yoongi’s chest away.

“Ah, you’re a private one, I see. That’s fine.”

Jimin kept walking, only not bumping into anything because of Yoongi’s arm which was still around him. He wasn’t seeing the scenery in front of him at all. Instead, his mind was filled with images of Yoongi kissing him. Yoongi kissing him gently, like before, Yoongi kissing him strongly and more passionately, Yoongi holding him tightly as he opened his mouth and—

Jimin gasped. He felt almost feverish, and his father’s voice in his head came out of nowhere. Disgusting. Shameful. Worthless. He suddenly felt ill.

 

*

 

Yoongi noticed that Jimin became quiet after their conversation. He wondered what else Jimin had been taught growing up. It sounded as if there was someone who had put some unkind thoughts into his head. Was that why Jimin seemed so shy and hesitant about being close with Yoongi?

He hadn’t been simply trying to boost Jimin’s ego a moment ago, either. Yoongi genuinely felt that he and Jimin would be a good pair. Jimin’s personality, or at least what he knew of his personality so far, seemed to match well with his own. Different enough in some ways, but similar in others. Taehyung? He was too chaotic for Yoongi. He had a good heart, and was certainly a good friend, but as a romantic interest or life companion? Absolutely not.

And although he tried to not focus on it too much, Yoongi also couldn’t help but notice more and more how attractive Jimin was. He hadn’t been able to keep his hands off of Jimin since their kiss. Feeling Jimin’s slim waist between his hands, holding his small hands, keeping him close as they walked through town. Jimin didn’t seem to mind the touches, either, if the way he blushed and bit his lips and sometimes even gasped was any indication.

Oh, what it would feel like to have Jimin gasping and panting underneath him… Yoongi had heard a few choice sounds come out of Jimin’s mouth at various points in the past couple weeks since he’d arrived. Soft gasps and little squeaks when he was surprised, low groans as he stretched, quiet whines when he couldn’t reach something or didn’t want to do something like get out of the cozy bedcovers to go take a piss in the middle of the night….

Yoongi would have to ease Jimin into the intimacy of marriage. There were times when Yoongi thought he could sense fear in Jimin’s behavior, and the last thing he wanted was his husband—future husband, that was—to be afraid of being close with him. Yoongi didn’t know if perhaps Jimin had had a past relationship that hadn’t worked out, or if he’d been wronged in some way, but Yoongi promised himself that he would find out a way to make Jimin feel cared for and beautiful. Yoongi had heard the longing in Jimin’s voice when he had called Jimin beautiful before. Just before he regurgitated the hateful and close-minded words he had been taught. If Jimin wanted to feel beautiful, Yoongi would make sure he did.

They stopped by the provisions store.

“Let’s get you some shoes and more clothing,” Yoongi said, holding the door open for Jimin to enter first. “They should have some rubber boots, and we can see if they have clothing in your size. I know a bit about hemming, but I’m not so skilled at it,” he chuckled.

“Oh,” Jimin responded, “I know how to hem clothing. I had to do it when I—” he broke off, but then continued after lowering his voice, “when I couldn’t afford to bring my clothes to the tailor anymore.”

Yoongi gave Jimin’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, and the look of hesitant gratitude he received only made him want to protect the younger man even more.

“Howdy there, Mr. Min,” Yoongi heard from the back of the store. He turned to see the store owner stepping from around the counter, hand out to shake his.

“Morning, Mr. Dunn.”

“Is this here your new husband my daughter’s been telling me all about lately?” he reached up to readjust his eyeglasses.

Yoongi laughed, and moved a little to the side so that Jimin could more comfortably shake Mr. Dunn’s hand.

“Miss Suran’s been gossiping, has she? We’re not even married yet, though we will be, soon.”

“Of course. Surprised it’s not the talk of the town with the way those two silly gals have been going on about it to each other. Pleasure to meet you, sir,” he addressed Jimin more directly.

“Jimin Park,” Jimin replied, smiling sweetly. “The pleasure’s mine.”

“Bill Dunn. What can I help you gents find today?”

“We’re looking for some rubber boots for Jimin. And perhaps some warm, more durable clothing. I’m worried the clothes he brought from his city life just won’t hold up to life out here, you know?”

Yoongi had seen all of Jimin’s clothes hanging on the line when they did their laundry together, and although the clothing was well-made and good for nice occasions, it wasn’t quite appropriate for life out in these parts. Not only would his clothing not hold up with the rough work they often needed to do in their daily life, but also Jimin would be frozen come winter. Already, Yoongi had lent Jimin a few of his warmer shirts and socks, but the other man’s shoulders were far narrower than Yoongi’s, and soon enough Yoongi would be needing his socks himself, so they couldn’t really be sharing them at that point.

Mr. Dunn nodded. “Don’t I know it. Well, let’s see what we can find for ya.”

They went over to the table of shoes and sorted through them until they found a pair that fit Jimin’s rather small feet. Then they went over to the rack of clothing.

“If you can’t find something, let me know, and I can put an order in for our next stock. The catalog is over behind the counter.”

Yoongi touched Jimin’s arm. “I’m going to get the rest of the things we need to restock, like coffee, lard, and more ammunition,” he said. “ Maybe some lemons or oranges from down south, if he has them. Take your time looking through. I think you need a better coat, some jeans? And I don’t think I’ve seen any long johns in your clothing, right?”

Jimin shook his head.

“Right. You should have a few of those, too. Winter’ll be upon us before you know it, and you’ll want to be warm. Oh, and some wool socks.”

Jimin seemed uneasy. “That’s a lot of money, Yoongi.”

Yoongi just waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. Just pick whatever you like.”

While Jimin sorted through the clothing and Mr. Dunn brought the boots up to the counter, Yoongi went over to the dry goods section to get what they needed. By the time they had everything calculated and ready to be packed up, it was just over ten dollars.

“I can put these back,” Jimin reached for the blue jeans that were about to be packaged, but Yoongi snatched his hand away and continued to hold it tight as he handed Mr. Dunn the money with his other hand.

“We’re not putting anything back, Jimin,” he laughed.

“Thank you.” Jimin’s voice was quiet, and to Yoongi’s delight, the younger man squeezed his hand back once. In response, Yoongi shifted his hand to thread their fingers together. He didn’t miss the way Jimin’s eyes immediately shot down to look at their entwined hands. His tongue peeked out briefly to wet his lips as they pouted out slightly.

God, how Yoongi wanted to kiss those lips again. But he wouldn’t think about that right now. Now was certainly not the time.

“You two off to the saloon today?” Mr. Dunn asked. “I think Suran’s off canoodling with and distracting Miss Heize, so you might catch her there.”

“We were, actually. I think Jin owes me a few drinks,” Yoongi grinned.

“Best food in town, too, if you ask me,” Mr. Dunn nodded to Jimin. Yoongi wouldn’t say he agreed with that sentiment, but if one didn’t know how to cook much else besides pork and beans if his daughter wasn’t cooking for him, well…he’d think the saloon had the best food, as well.

They bid their goodbyes and once again loaded up the wagon before heading over to the saloon. As soon as they stepped inside, they were greeted by the smell of smoke and tobacco, and the raucous sound of men drinking. It was just about as crowded as usual for a market day. Which meant there weren’t many tables, so Yoongi and Jimin could only stand up by the bar as they glanced around hoping for a place to open up.

“What’ll you have today, gentlemen?” Seokjin asked, pulling out some glasses already.

“Well,” Yoongi began, the drawl of his tone making Jimin look at him with raised eyebrows, “I believe you owe me a few drinks. Figured I’d have those now.”

Seokjin heaved a deep breath, the appearance of annoyance on his face, although Yoongi knew better. He was all bark and no bite, that man. Well, mostly. He could project his voice in a way that could send the toughest man back to his mama with his tail between his legs, and Seokjin's gun was always at the ready under that counter.

“One drink free, and that’s it, Yoongi.” He held up one crooked finger.

“Two. I’ve got someone special with me today,” Yoongi insisted, nudging Jimin.

Seokjin’s eyes lit up. “Is this the husband? Well, I’ll be.” His eyes scanned Jimin’s face. “I might have to fight for my title of most handsome fella in the Crossing, now.”

Jimin’s cheeks went pink. Seokjin knew how to charm his customers, even if he preferred the company of ladies.

“We’re not…not married, yet,” Jimin spoke up, glancing quickly at Yoongi, speaking the line he’d been saying far too often already. “But it’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I’m Jimin Park.”

“Jimin Park, welcome. I’m Seokjin Kim, but everyone ‘round here calls me Jin, except for this old fart.” Seokjin pointed at Yoongi with his thumb.

Yoongi didn’t grace him with so much as an eyeroll. Seokjin was older than Yoongi, although only by three months, they’d quickly learned. Luckily, Seokjin decided on his own that Jimin deserved a drink on the house in addition to the one drink Yoongi was owed, so he got what he wanted, anyway.

Sipping at his usual whiskey and starting to tuck into his meal of cornbread with beef stew, the jingle of jewelry—costume jewelry, that was; no one was crazy enough to wear real jewels out here—reached Yoongi’s ears. He turned just as the familiar form of Heize appeared at Jimin’s side. She was holding several empty glasses, but it appeared that when she spotted Jimin, she had made a swift turn away from the direction of the kitchen, skirts rustling and bustle bumping into one or two men as she headed straight toward the bar where they had finally procured a couple of stools. She set the glasses down on the bar counter and immediately turned to Jimin, ignoring the irritated glance from Seokjin.

“Well, who do we have here?” her sickly sweet, gently sensual voice flowed out like flowered vines reaching to wrap around and entangle unsuspecting victims. Yoongi watched in amusement as she, not noticing Yoongi yet, leaned in close to Jimin so he could see right past the ruffles, down the front of her bosom. Yoongi could smell her perfume from there, as well.

Jimin immediately leaned back away from her—so far, in fact, that his stool began to tip. Yoongi dropped his fork onto the bar counter and threw his arm out, pushing the younger man back upright before he could topple over.

“Mr. Min!” Heize’s voice returned to its natural, deeper tone; the one she used when she wasn’t trying to flirt with patrons of the saloon. “What’re you—oh!” She gasped, eyes going wide, as she looked between Yoongi and Jimin, and at Yoongi’s hand which was still against Jimin’s lower back. Her eyes became almost wicked, then. “Ohh. He’s a pretty one, Mr. Min.”

“Excuse me?” Jimin must’ve been so confused.

“Jimin, meet Miss Heize. She’s—and here’s Miss Suran, of course,” Yoongi added with a shake of his head as the older but smaller of the two women appeared. Suran looked almost plain beside Heize’s alluring get-up, but only because her clothing was properly modest.

Heize grabbed Suran around the waist, pulling her close while also allowing her to see Jimin better. “He’s even better than we hoped, love.”

“Oh goodness,” Suran exclaimed. “You’re so young!” She turned back to Heize. “Still with his baby cheeks,” she sighed as if in pain.

“I’m…not that young,” Jimin protested, rightly affronted by everyone’s judgement of his age. “Why is everyone saying I’m young?”

Yoongi took a large swallow of his whiskey, enjoying the burn as it went down his throat. “Because I’m the old man here, Jimin. Now ladies,” he addressed them with a sigh, “as thrilled as we are to be in your presence—”

Heize scoffed, her arm tightening possessively around Suran’s waist until the other woman’s chest was pressed flush against her side.

“—we would like to enjoy our meal in peace.”

They didn’t leave immediately, choosing to ignore Yoongi in favor of asking Jimin several questions about where he came from and how old he actually was. By the time Suran dragged Heize away to distract her in a corner (much to the interest of some dirty men nearby), Yoongi had made his way halfway through a second whiskey.

There was a reason he wasn’t attracted to women, and it wasn’t just because he wasn’t interested in their breasts.

Jimin quietly ate his pork pie, cheeks a little flushed from his one beer.

“Yoongi,” he said quietly after a moment, “I thought Miss Suran was Mr. Dunn’s daughter? But she’s…she’s Korean, too, isn’t she?”

“Ah,” that. No wonder Jimin was confused. Mr. Dunn was white as could be, after all. “Mr. Dunn adopted Miss Suran when she was only a toddler. I’m not sure the details, but I gather he was close with her parents, and when they died, he took her in and raised her as his own.”

Understanding cleared Jimin’s slight frown. He glanced over at the two women briefly, staring with widened eyes for a moment at the way they were currently pressed up against each other, kissing deeply. He seemed to catch himself quickly, though, and looked away. His gaze met Yoongi’s, and the older man could have sworn he saw Jimin’s eyes shift downward to Yoongi’s mouth and back up, pupils contracting briefly before returning his attention to his meal.

Thoughts loose from his whiskey, Yoongi allowed himself to observe Jimin. From the way his eyelashes hid his eyes from him at that moment, to the lovely flush of his soft cheeks, his pillowy lips (which had felt and tasted even better than Yoongi had thought they would), his slender neck and narrow shoulders…his small hands as they both came together to lift his glass to take a drink.

Yoongi groaned slightly and shifted in his seat, spreading his thighs a little to accommodate the slight heat and heaviness growing in his groin.

“Are you okay?” Jimin looked up at him, sounding concerned. What a sweetheart.

Yoongi smiled and took another long swig of his whiskey, finishing it off. “Just fine, don’t worry. Enjoying my drink.” He held up the empty glass. “Jin!” he called out toward the bartender at the other end of the bar. “Another over here!”

“Another whiskey?” Seokjin clarified as he came over a few moments later to take Yoongi’s empty glass.

“Ah,” Yoongi glanced at Jimin. He didn’t think Jimin could drive the wagon home just yet. He’d have to teach him soon. “Just a beer, then.” He watched as Seokjin poured from the tap until Yoongi’s glass was nearly overflowing. “Thanks.” He took several long swallows, a little disappointed in the lack of burn.

A few minutes later Yoongi excused himself to use the toilet out back.

“Be right back,” he reassured Jimin, patting him on the shoulder. Jimin had finally finished his own beer and was working on the second one he’d ordered upon Yoongi’s encouragement.

Yoongi sucked in a deep breath of fresh air the moment he stepped outside. Thoughts slow, he paused a moment to admire the sky stretching out over the mountains off in the distance. At times, being stuck in one place was suffocating after his whirlwind past, but the beauty of the landscape here did a good job of keeping him grounded. He’d been to many sights, but the mountains, rivers, and forests here just couldn’t be beat.

But then Yoongi’s bladder reminded him of the reason why he’d left the saloon, and he made his way over to the outhouse.

To Seokjin’s credit, the man kept his outhouse surprisingly tidy compared to some others Yoongi had visited over the years during his travels. If even a saloon had a toilet, that was. Oftentimes he’d just had to take a piss out in the dirt behind the building.

He sighed as he felt his body relax, letting go of all that drink. Once again, his thoughts drifted toward the image of Jimin, flushed, shy, small. Yoongi groaned, and squeezed his dick.

“Fuck,” he muttered. The heat returned, and with a grimace, he spread his feet a little farther apart to get comfortable and shut his eyes as he began to stroke himself. He knew he had to be quick, or Jimin might come looking for him.

The thought of Jimin opening the door, eyes innocently wide, mouth open in shock, had Yoongi’s cock hardening swiftly. He imagined pulling Jimin close, touching him, holding his slim waist tightly…

Yoongi sped up the pace of his pumping, needing to get this over with. He filled his imagination with the illicit thought of pushing Jimin against the wall, lifting him up and spreading his legs on either side of him—he bet that Jimin would make such a glorious sound as he pushed into his tight heat.

Oh, how Yoongi couldn’t wait to feel Jimin around his cock.

He groaned and grunted lowly, the burn from his dry hand somewhat unpleasant, but he had to get this out of his system now.

When ropes of white finally shot out of his dick, it took a great amount of control to make sure he didn’t get it everywhere. Not that anyone would know it was him.

He took a moment to catch his breath, tucking himself back into his trousers. Then, with one last pat of his clothing to make sure there was no evidence of what he’d just done, he stepped back out into daylight.

Yoongi was met by a wall of sound and smells once again as he reentered the saloon, and was minorly surprised to see that Jimin wasn’t sitting alone. Yoongi’s seat had been taken by none other than Taehyung, who must’ve returned from the common.

“Oh—there you are!” Jimin said, as Yoongi stepped up behind the two, directly between them. Jimin’s demeanor was more energetic than before, far less shy. His smile was beautiful, and ridiculously innocent.

“You really are trying to steal my man,” Yoongi raised one eyebrow and smirked at Taehyung, who lifted both hands into the air in a surrendering gesture, shaking his head quickly.

“No, no, no! I’m not, I swear! Just getting to know my new friend, here.”

Yoongi put a hand upon Jimin’s shoulder, reaching across him to pick up his abandoned beer. It only had a few swallows left in it. As he raised his glass to his lips, he squeezed Jimin’s shoulder a few times, feeling the way his fingertips could press into his soft skin, even if it was through the fabric of his shirt.

Jimin leaned back, just slightly. As if leaning into the touch. When Yoongi set his now empty glass down, he caught the expression on Jimin’s face. It was a little far away, as if he was lost in thought or in a daze.

Watching the whole thing with sharp eyes, Taehyung let out a low chuckle.

“I’ll leave you two to it, then,” he winked at Yoongi, and then with a quiet grunt, he hopped off of the bar stool he’d stolen.

Jimin startled out of his daze and sputtered out a hurried goodbye. Yoongi watched the way Taehyung’s smirk smoothed out into a genuine smile as he gave Jimin a short handshake before disappearing through the door Yoongi knew led upstairs.

 

*

 

The ride back home was long, and it took a while for them to unload the wagon. Jimin felt sleepy from the alcohol, although compared to Yoongi, he’d barely had anything at all. The older man certainly knew how to hold his drink, that was for sure. He’d seemed a little more relaxed after leaving the saloon, but otherwise unaffected. Jimin, however, craved a nap after all of the socializing and activity of the day. It was the most excitement he’d had since arriving here.

He didn’t want to appear lazy, though, so rather than take a nap, Jimin offered to help Yoongi organize the stores in the small cellar. He’d been down there before, to grab a thing or two, but he’d never really spent so much time rearranging the stock. He spent several minutes making sure the canned food and jars of jam they’d bought at the market were orderly before sorting through the potatoes to make sure there weren’t any that had gone bad.

It was a small space, and he kept bumping into Yoongi. The third time it happened, and he had accidentally backed up into the other man, Yoongi made a playful growling noise and seized him by the hips in a way that made Jimin gasp aloud.

“You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?” Yoongi spoke against his ear, and Jimin froze as sparks of—of something shot through him. He didn’t even realize Yoongi had already let go until he turned toward him and he was moving to set the package of candles down upon a shelf.

What was happening to him? Jimin swallowed as he tried to understand why his body was acting this way.

“Oh.”

At the sound of Yoongi’s low, surprised tone, Jimin glanced up at the other man’s face. He was staring at Jimin, something akin to realization in his eyes. He stepped toward Jimin, and there was nothing Jimin could do to stop him from putting his hands on his waist before slowly, purposefully backing Jimin up against a shelf.

Jimin’s breath caught. The scariest part, as Yoongi’s face drew closer, was that Jimin wanted this. He craved it.

And as their lips met for the second time, a small sound left Jimin’s mouth, only to be swallowed by the press of Yoongi’s lips against his.

This time, Jimin felt Yoongi’s tongue tease between his lips. Jimin made another soft sound, like a vocal sigh through his nose, and let Yoongi in. His fingers clung to the front of Yoongi’s shirt, and he fell backward until his spine was pressed hard against the rigid edge of the shelf.

“Mmph—" His mouth involuntarily opened more, and he almost gasped again when Yoongi’s tongue delved more determinedly into his mouth. It slid along Jimin’s tongue, curving against it and playing with it before exploring the rest of his mouth.

It felt so—Jimin was breathless, becoming light-headed.

It felt so—he made another noise, fists tightening against Yoongi’s chest.

It felt so—Jimin felt heat pooling fiercely in his lower half, and with a sharp gasp, he pulled himself away, mouth still open, lips slightly numb and wet. He could taste, clearly, the whiskey from Yoongi’s tongue.

It had felt far too good to be proper. There was clearly something wrong with Jimin’s head. And yet…he’d watched the way Suran and Heize had kissed back at the saloon. Everyone had acted like it was to be expected, that it wasn’t shocking or disgusting. Jimin, too, had thought that they had looked beautiful, and the way they had touched each other—as if holding and caressing a precious treasure—it had been clear even to him how much they loved each other.

Was it the same, then, for two men, like Yoongi and himself? Jimin was only marrying Yoongi because he had nothing else, nowhere else to go…right? Then why was he feeling this way?

 

*

 

The days leading up to the day when they would marry seemed to fly by.

Jimin spent a few afternoons in the stable with Hoseok, learning the names and uses of most of the carpentry tools, sharpening blades which had gone dull from lack of use, cleaning up others which had been left a mess, and discarding tools which were so broken or rusted they were now useless. After Hoseok returned home, Jimin did his best to organize the tools in a way that made sense to him. He put the jack planes and smoothing planes together arranged from smallest to largest, beside which were the draw knives. He hung up the saws on one large hook. He put the hammers and hatchets together. He put the chisels and files together. He gathered all of the nails and put them in a pail, hung on a hook near the hammers. He arranged the augers from smallest to largest.

When he finished and stepped back to survey his work, Jimin felt a swell of pride—and excitement, for future projects. He could already think of a few pieces of furniture he would like to add to their home. If he could make it himself, then Yoongi wouldn’t have to keep spending all that money on him, too.

“Jimin,” Yoongi said one evening as they sat together by the fire, unwinding from a long day before heading to bed, “I was thinking. I know we’re not having a proper wedding, but…would you like it if we invited a few people to celebrate after?”

Jimin perked up. They hadn’t really discussed their impending marriage, other than to remind themselves what day it would be on, marking it on a calendar so they wouldn’t forget. As if Jimin could forget.

“That would be nice,” he agreed.

“I, uh—” Yoongi cleared his throat loudly, rubbing at the back of his neck, “I’m not one for big parties, but something simple—if it would make you happy—”

Jimin smiled, feeling warm inside. He had quickly seen how Yoongi preferred his quiet time, sometimes even becoming irritable if they had been around others too long. He was never irritable with Jimin, not seeming to mind his constant presence, but with others, he became grumpy and sometimes even mildly rude. And yet, Yoongi always seemed to pay close attention to what Jimin wanted and needed. Never, in his entire life, had Jimin felt so cared for in the past few weeks.

“Are you sure?” he asked, just to be fair.

“Yeah, ‘course. Just, you know, maybe drinks after at the saloon.”

Jimin nodded. “That sounds like fun.”

“All righty. I’ll…talk to Seokjin about it, then. And the others.”

As they turned in later that night, Jimin paused by his chest of drawers. The jewelry box still sat inside, but he hadn’t touched it since that first day. He glanced at Yoongi, who was sitting on the edge of his side of the bed, rolling his shoulders a bit. Jimin hesitated. In fact, he hesitated so long that Yoongi seemed to sense that something was wrong in the silence, and turned toward him.

Before he could overthink it even more, Jimin reached into the drawer and pulled out the jewelry box. Yoongi’s eyebrows rose, but he didn’t say anything as he shifted to sit more fully on the bed, one leg drawn up onto the mattress.

“I—it’s not much,” Jimin started, feeling all sorts of flustered as he climbed onto the bed until he was sitting beside Yoongi, “but I brought this with me from New York.”

“What is it?”

Jimin flipped open the lid. “I don’t know if you were intending on us wearing rings,” he said. “And I know I should have brought this up before now,” he added quickly, “but I just wasn’t sure, and it’s really not much, and I just—”

“Jimin.”

Yoongi’s hand reached out and took his frantically fluttering hand, holding it steady.

“I wasn’t expecting you to bring anything at all, so don’t worry about it. What is it you’d like to show me?”

Jimin swallowed, and rather than pull his hand out from the safe and comforting confines of Yoongi’s clasp, he used his other to reach into the jewelry box to pull out the rings. There were a total of four, including the largest one he had been looking at the first night he arrived there.

“May I?”

Yoongi held out his other hand, and Jimin placed them into his palm.

“They were my mother’s.”

He watched as the other man examined them, using his thumb to flip them over and roll them gently within his palm. When he was done, he looked up at Jimin.

“I have been thinking about rings, actually. Originally, it hadn’t been in my plan. But…I have been considering it. Do you want us to have rings?”

“It…” Jimin squirmed. “It could be nice,” he whispered.

He wasn’t expecting fingers to carefully take his chin and tilt it up, nor was he expecting Yoongi to suddenly kiss him lightly. He smiled as he pulled away from Jimin.

“Let’s have rings, then.”

He finally let go of Jimin’s hand, and used it to separate the largest ring from the others. Jimin watched with bated breath as Yoongi held it up to his own fingers to see if it would fit. When he slipped it onto his left ring finger, Jimin couldn’t help the sound of disappointment when it wouldn’t go past his second knuckle.

“Is this one too small for your finger, too?” Yoongi asked.

Jimin shook his head. “It’s too big,” he admitted.

Yoongi choked out a small laugh. “You and your tiny fingers,” he said with an amused smile. Then, to Jimin’s surprise, he set the rings down in the lid of the jewelry box and stood up. “Let’s not get discouraged just yet.” Jimin watched as he walked over to the wardrobe where he kept his nicer suits. He reached up to the small top shelf and pulled out a leather packet, bringing it back to the bed.

“Now, I thought about saving this until Tuesday, but maybe now’s as good a time as any.”

Jimin had a feeling he knew what might be in the packet, but he didn’t want to assume. Even so, he felt a thrill of anticipation as Yoongi unfastened the piece of sinew holding it shut. Two silver rings slid out into Yoongi’s waiting palm.

“Yoongi—”

“They’re nothing special,” he held up the two rings for Jimin to see better, “but I brought some silver to the blacksmith in town and had these made for us earlier this week.” He huffed out a laugh. “I may have told you I was hunting, but…yeah.”

Jimin vaguely recalled the morning when Yoongi had taken Chief along hunting but came back empty-handed—or so he’d thought.

One of the rings was thicker and larger, but otherwise they were made in the same simple style, both with engravings inside: a Y and a J separated by two dots between which a tiny, unassuming evergreen tree had been etched. They were simple, and yet so beautiful.

“Does yours fit?” Yoongi asked, then, breaking Jimin out of his reverie. He took Jimin’s limp left hand and carefully slid the ring onto his finger. It fit perfectly.

“How—?”

Yoongi slipped the ring right back off. Then, without saying anything, he took Jimin’s fingers within his own, and circled his fingers around Jimin’s one by one. He pulled his thumb and forefinger away, the circle of Jimin’s finger still visible. He then took the smaller of the two rings and fit it into the circle. Jimin’s mouth dropped open. Yoongi hadn’t just been aimlessly playing with his fingers. He had been measuring them.

Jimin was startled by stinging in his eyes, and when he looked up at Yoongi’s face, the other man’s eyes widened in concern.

“Oh, no no no; don’t cry, Jimin,” he whispered, setting the rings aside and taking both of Jimin’s cheeks in hand. His thumbs brushed away Jimin’s tears.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin choked out, feeling the familiar twist of humiliation whenever he cried. He swallowed in a tight throat, and tried to pull away, but Yoongi didn’t let him. Instead, he was pulled forward and kissed lightly.

“Are these happy tears?” Yoongi asked.

Jimin nodded. “I just…I’m sorry,” he said again. “I know men shouldn’t cry. I know it’s disgraceful. I just—no one’s ever—thank you.”

Without letting go of Jimin, Yoongi shifted them both away from the jewelry box and rings. He pulled Jimin closer and kissed him again, more firmly. Strangely, it calmed Jimin. He willingly opened his mouth and welcomed Yoongi inside, lifting both arms to wrap around the older man’s neck.

They kissed for what felt like a long time, until slowly coming to a stop and drawing away. Jimin didn’t want to go far, however, and allowed himself to sink down, to rest his cheek against Yoongi’s shoulder as he held him close.

“I know we haven’t known each other long,” Yoongi said quietly, one hand sliding up and down Jimin’s back in soothing motions, “but I’m glad it’s you I’m marrying.”

Jimin remained quiet, but let himself hold Yoongi just a little tighter, burying his face into his neck and breathing in deeply.

 

*

 

Before he knew it, Tuesday had arrived. Jimin and Yoongi woke up before the sun had even risen. They ate a simple breakfast with coffee while still in their long johns. While Yoongi only wore the long johns and his socks, Jimin had on a thick sweater, as well. He couldn’t help laughing at Yoongi standing in front of the cookstove like that.

“You look ridiculous,” he laughed around his mug of coffee, steam billowing up in his face.

“Well, you look—” Yoongi paused, eyes drifting over Jimin’s form where he was huddled upon his chair. He sighed, as if he was defeated. “You look cute.”

“I haven’t even shaved yet,” Jimin protested, rubbing at his stubble.

“I stand by what I said.” Yoongi turned back to the stove, unbothered.

 Jimin’s stomach felt too small to fit much at all, but Yoongi encouraged him to try eating.

They took turns bathing properly, shaving until their faces were smooth, and they each put on their best suits. After confirming that Yoongi had the rings, they got the wagon ready and began the long journey into town as the sun was beginning to climb over the trees.

They didn’t talk as they bumped along the road. Jimin had too many thoughts in his head and no idea how to organize them. He was really going to do this. By the end of the day, he was going to be married to another man. To Yoongi Min. It was terrifying, and yet…and yet, there was something warm in his chest thinking about it. Jimin found that he wasn’t even just settling for marrying Yoongi anymore. He genuinely felt that doing this would allow him to find a happy life.

Just these past four weeks had been the happiest he’d ever experienced. There had been some scary moments, and some uncomfortable moments. He was still struggling with strange feelings in his head and in his body. But throughout it all, Yoongi had always somehow found a way to be there for him in a way no one ever had before. He cared for Jimin, protected Jimin, and yet he didn’t belittle him or act like Jimin was useless or hopeless.

The town was still somewhat quiet when they arrived, but there were a few others in the clerk’s office when they stepped inside.

“We’re here to sign our marriage papers,” Yoongi said when they reached the counter. Mr. Taylor nodded and went to the wall of cabinets with letter-sized doors. He opened one up and took out two papers and a stamp.

“Now, whose name are we taking today?” he asked. “Or,” he frowned, “I suppose you could both keep your own surnames. That’s allowed, now.”

“Oh—” Jimin looked at Yoongi. He hadn’t even considered.

“What would you like to do, Jimin?” Yoongi turned to him. “I’d like to share a name. Jimin Min, or Yoongi Park?” The corner of his lips curved slightly.

Jimin couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled out of him. “I…I like Jimin Min,” he admitted.

As they filled out the form together—once for the clerk’s office to keep, once for their own record—Jimin realized that they might not even need to kiss.

“Do you have rings?”

“Yes.”

“Right then, let’s read the vows.”

Jimin felt like he was not in control of his body as Yoongi took his hand and began to read his vows from the paper. When it was his turn, Jimin read his without feeling anything. As if someone else was moving his lips, making his voice form those words.

The first spark of sensation to come back was when Yoongi’s fingers began to slide Jimin’s ring onto his finger. Jimin felt dizzy as he, too, held Yoongi’s ring and watched as it moved down past his knuckles until it was settled at the end of his finger.

He startled at the sound of Mr. Taylor slamming down the stamp twice.

“I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss now,” he said, voice disinterested.

The sliver of sudden panic at the idea of Yoongi kissing him here, in public, where everyone in the clerk’s office could see…faded completely as he shut his eyes and Yoongi’s lips pressed against his. Jimin sighed into the kiss, letting Yoongi hold him firmly. He was safe. He was safe, as long as Yoongi had him like this.

The kiss ended just as abruptly as it started, and barely two minutes later they were standing outside in bright daylight. Married.

 

*

 

Hollers and whoops exploded the moment they stepped through the doors into the saloon. Startled, Jimin and Yoongi froze for a second before they looked around at the crowd. It appeared that there were regular patrons in addition to their small group of friends. It had become a grand party. On the other side of the saloon, there was even someone playing lively music on the piano.

“What’s all this?” Yoongi asked as they got to the bar.

Seokjin shrugged. “I just let everyone know we were expecting some newlyweds, and they did the rest. The cook’s made some nice dishes to put on the menu today, and we’ve got some of our best bottles out—you still have to pay, you know; it’s just a regular Tuesday, gentlemen.”

Yoongi laughed and turned to Jimin. “Sounds good.”

It was a whirlwind from there. People were coming up to them to give their congratulations, a few of them gave Jimin hugs—Yoongi wasn’t a hugger, it seemed, unless he was the one initiating it. Upon the urging of someone (Jimin thought it might have been Becky’s voice calling out), the couple had to kiss once more. Jimin’s cheeks flared, Yoongi dove in for a quick, barely-there kiss, and Jimin hid his face in a glass of something red and strong as cheers went up.

Jimin lost track of time. His nerves disappeared as the alcohol kept flowing, the music kept playing, and with all the laughter and dancing, he found himself having a grand, grand time.

Hours later, Jimin and Yoongi stumbled back to their wagon, which had mysteriously gained silk ribbons in their absence. They laughed as they helped each other up into the front, and with one last wave, they headed home.

The ride, once again, was quiet. Jimin kept giggling whenever he recalled something from the party, and whenever one of them swayed a little too close to the edge, the other would catch hold and bring him back.

Jimin was tired but happy when they finally stepped inside the house.

Together, they lit the lanterns and while Jimin went into the bedroom to change out of his nice suit, Yoongi built up a fire in the cookstove to heat the chilly house. Outside, the sun was already hanging low over the mountains.

Jimin was just hanging up his waistcoat when Yoongi stepped into the bedroom. He had his jacket folded neatly over his arm, but he shook it out now and came over to hang it up, as well. He smelled of alcohol and clean sweat.

Jimin wasn’t expecting it when Yoongi leaned down to kiss him. It felt so good, though, that he accidentally let go of the waistcoat before it was fully on the hanger. Dimly, he heard it hit the floor of the wardrobe.

He didn’t realize he was being walked backward until his calves hit the edge of the bed. He pulled away, looking back in surprise.

“Yoongi—”

When he looked back, his now-husband was unbuttoning his shirt, tugging it out from his trousers. Shaking his head momentarily and chalking up his daze to the alcohol, Jimin reached to begin unbuttoning his own shirt. He paused when Yoongi yanked his undershirt off, too. Why was he—?

Jimin gasped sharply when Yoongi dropped the undershirt on the floor and turned to him, bare-chested, and put his hands on Jimin’s waist. Yoongi’s lips were on his a moment later. He kissed deeply, with more passion than ever before. Jimin almost didn’t notice the way he was being lowered down onto the bed until suddenly he was lying diagonally across its surface and Yoongi was hovering over him, pushing Jimin’s shirt off of his shoulders, lifting his arms over his head to pull them from the sleeves.

“Yoongi—”

Jimin realized, with horrible abruptness, that he had failed to consider one very important thing about marriage.

Sex.

Somehow, in his naivety, Jimin hadn’t considered that men would have sex with one another. Kiss? Of course. Touch? Yes, that made sense, too. But in a spark of realization and horror at his own failure to realize that being married meant he would be having sex with Yoongi—because of course Yoongi would expect to have sex with his husband. How could Jimin have been so utterly stupid?

Somewhere during his panic, Jimin had stopped paying attention to what Yoongi was doing. He came back to awareness at the sensation of lips and tongue upon a very sensitive part of his neck. He gasped loudly, hands coming up to grab Yoongi’s shirt, only Yoongi wasn’t wearing a shirt, so instead Jimin’s fingers slid over the other man’s naked chest and ended up on his shoulders.

As usual, Yoongi’s attention somehow made Jimin feel safe again. This was Yoongi. He would…he would take care of Jimin. He knew that. Even if he didn’t quite understand how it was men could have intercourse with each other.

Jimin soon became very much aware of what Yoongi was doing.

Everywhere Yoongi’s hands touched it was like sparks lit up on his skin and spread like a flame along a line of gunpowder heading straight for dynamite. His breathing was uneven as he trembled and tried to fight how his body was responding. He squeezed his thighs together as if it could hide the way his penis was slowly hardening in his trousers, and he pressed his eyes shut to keep himself from seeing the way Yoongi was gently kissing and caressing him.

All of this, it felt so strange. So sinful. And yet his body was exploding with sensation in a way it never had before.

When lips came back up his jaw and toward his mouth, Jimin automatically turned to meet them. He sucked in gasp of air when the tip of Yoongi’s tongue teased between his lips, and as it slipped through the opening to touch his own, Jimin let out a mortifyingly weak whimper. Oh, he should be so ashamed of himself, allowing himself to be touched in this way by a man. But why did it feel so utterly wonderful? Why was his entire body positively quivering with anticipation and want for the other man’s attention and touch?

Jimin kissed back, opening his mouth more to allow Yoongi to nearly devour him. He startled, however, when a hand that wasn’t his own began to stroke down his belly and tug at the fastenings on his trousers before dipping inside. He broke the kiss roughly, staring wide-eyed at Yoongi. The hand paused briefly before sliding down until it wrapped itself around Jimin’s erection.

No man had ever touched Jimin there. Never. His mind was a jumble of alarmed fascination at the desire he felt. Yoongi kept his eyes trained on his face as he began to stroke his husband, sending waves of intense pleasure with every movement. Jimin’s breath increased, becoming loud in the quiet of the room.

But then. But then, Yoongi’s hand went even lower, first cupping and massaging his testicles in a way that almost made Jimin’s thoughts leave his head entirely…and then one fingertip dragged slowly backward along Jimin’s skin toward his—

Oh god, Yoongi was going to do that. He was—he was going to put himself inside Jimin. Inside! All of his, his, his penis, inside Jimin! That was what male lovers did, wasn’t it? It made perfect sense, now, that that was what they would do.

“No, wait,” Jimin gasped, both hands flying downward to seize Yoongi’s forearm. “No, I, I can’t—I’m not—”

Concern flooded across Yoongi’s face, and he pulled his hand from Jimin’s trousers, bringing his palm to rest safely upon his belly instead.

“Oh no,” he murmured. “Are you a virgin? I didn’t think to ask. I should’ve asked.”

Jimin swallowed and shook his head. “Not…not a virgin,” he croaked out. “But I’ve never—not with a—I’ve never…” Just saying it was a struggle.

Understanding seemed to fill Yoongi’s eyes. “You’ve never had sex with a man before,” he deduced bluntly.

Jimin hesitated before nodding once.

Then, after a split-second of chaotic back-and-forth within his own mind, he whispered, “You’re my first man. First—first…ever.” As the words left his mouth, he sucked in a deep breath of air and let it out in shuddering, weak bursts. He didn’t know if he felt relieved or more tense, now.

Yoongi was silent for a very long moment. “You’ve never had a male lover before?”

Jimin shook his head. He saw Yoongi swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing low.

“Well, we don’t have to do it now. No one will know or care about us consummating the marriage. We can do that in good time. Or if you’d like, we can do it the other way.”

“Other way?”

“I could receive you.”

Jimin’s eyes widened. For some reason, the idea of him being the one to penetrate the older man just… Jimin had slept with women before; he wasn’t lying, and he really hadn’t much thought of it at the time other than assuming this was the way it went, but he didn’t particularly enjoy it. Or was that because they were women, and he really was a shameful man who preferred the touch and attention of other men?

“I don’t know,” he whispered, filled with so much shame that he could almost feel his eyes sting with the threat of tears. Yet another shameful act.

“Shh, shh,” Yoongi’s voice turned gentle again. Jimin startled when he felt lips press briefly against his mouth. “If you’re not ready for that, we don’t have to.” He pulled back just enough to look carefully into Jimin’s eyes, bringing one hand up to cradle the side of Jimin’s face. “I would never force you into intimacy,” he said firmly.

Jimin swallowed in a tight throat. He had almost expected Yoongi to mock him for his inexperience, or even call him out, discovering the truth about him. Instead, Yoongi was only reassuring him, comforting him, and being so gentle and kind. It made Jimin’s mind and heart feel so confused; he wanted to try, for Yoongi. But even just thinking about it terrified him.

“Can we wait?” he asked hesitantly. “I…want to,” he enunciated, surprised at himself for the truth in his own words, “but I just don’t know. I’m not…not ready.”

Yoongi kissed him lightly again, and then kissed one cheek as well. “Of course. Shall we just continue this?” His hand dipped down into Jimin’s trousers again and loosely curled around his semi-erect cock. The abruptness of the touch made him gasp sharply and jolt. It also caused a surge of sensation to burst to life, his cock twitching.

If Jimin didn’t let Yoongi bring him to completion, Jimin knew he would have to take care of it himself—but Yoongi’s hands were so much larger and rougher than his own, and the unexpectedness of his touch had Jimin’s heart speeding up in the most intense manner.

“Yes,” Jimin breathed. “Please,” he added for good measure.

Yoongi didn’t make him wait. The rough pad of his thumb rubbed over the delicate tip of Jimin’s cock, and it was like shocks of electricity shooting through him.

“I’ll take good care of you, don’t worry,” Yoongi murmured lowly, his voice so deep that it was almost difficult to hear were it not for the fact that his lips were pressing against Jimin’s earlobe. His hot breath tickled the inside of his ear, and a shudder ran down Jimin’s spine.

“Yoongi,” he whimpered, hands scrabbling for something to hold onto.

Yoongi continued to murmur into his ear the entire time he stroked Jimin’s erection. As he twisted…pumped…squeezed.

“You’re so beautiful. You’re doing so well, Jimin. So well.”

There it was, again. That word. Yoongi calling him beautiful. Men shouldn’t be beautiful; he’d been told this so many times as he grew up. But Jimin, he…he wanted to be beautiful. Knowing that Yoongi thought he was beautiful made him feel even more overwhelmed.

The moans and cries that began to spill from Jimin’s lips would have mortified him if he’d been anywhere within half of his mind, but there were no thoughts inside his head other than chasing this pleasure. He had no idea it could feel this way. By a hand, alone? His own hand felt nothing like this. And he’d never really let the women he’d been with touch him like that. It had always just been quick, something for him to reach release and then be done with it.

This, though—

“Are you close?” Yoongi’s words in his ear were rough, like he, too, was feeling affected. “Go ahead, Jimin. If you’re ready, let go.”

“Y—Yoongi,” Jimin could only say. It felt like he was begging for something, but he didn’t know what.

One second Jimin thought he was going to burst into flames, the next he was arching up, arms wrapping tightly around Yoongi’s shoulders. He could feel his release coursing through him, splashing onto his belly. Yoongi’s warm hand was still around his penis, helping him through his climax until suddenly it was too much. Jimin let out a sharp whimper and pushed at his chest. Yoongi let go immediately and rolled over beside him.

Jimin’s heart pounded loudly in his ears for a long time as he stared up at the ceiling, mind utterly empty. After a while, though, he blinked his vision back into focus and turned to see Yoongi. The older man grinned at him.

“You’re absolutely breathtakingly beautiful when you come.”

 

 

*

 

 

Notes:

...And then he just left Yoongi hanging, not allowed to come... 🤭

Now, before you start thinking everything is just going to be lovey lovey from here on...let's just say that this is where the real beginning of the story is. We needed to get these two men married, and then things will start to get even more interesting. ;) After all, just because Jimin's body knows what it wants, doesn't mean he has accepted it. And he STILL hasn't told Yoongi the actual truth yet.

Chapter 4: Chapter IV

Notes:

Another chapter, already? You sure are being spoiled! ;)

Enjoy!

 

 

Chapter IV

 

Jimin stared at Yoongi for a long moment, feeling his heart gradually calm. The sweat that had spread over Jimin’s skin was starting to cool, leaving goosebumps upon his skin.

He became aware of a new sound in the silence of their room. It was slick, wet, slowly rhythmic. His eyes shot down to Yoongi’s crotch, where he was stroking himself. Jimin swallowed, feeling his cheeks fill with heat again. He hadn’t noticed before, but Yoongi was…well endowed. Jimin had never seen another man’s penis before. Even in the month that he had been here, he had always turned to give Yoongi privacy as they dressed or undressed. They bathed separately.

Currently, Yoongi’s penis was fully erect, to the point of being darkly flushed at the head. As he stroked the shaft, his lose skin rolled up and down it in an almost captivating way. The very tip was slowly leaking precum, and every few strokes Yoongi would rub his callused thumb over it and spread it all around as he brought his hand back down.

Jimin could see the way Yoongi’s abdomen was tense, the muscles tightening and then relaxing in little spastic movements.

When Yoongi made a quiet groan, Jimin’s eyes flew back up to his face. Yoongi was staring fixedly at Jimin’s own face already.

“Oh—” Jimin’s voice came out as a whisper; a breath of air more than anything else, and Jimin wasn’t expecting Yoongi to roll forward halfway on top of him to bring their mouths back together.

By now, Jimin had to admit to himself that he very much enjoyed kissing Yoongi. It was an unavoidable truth, and he told himself that this was a good thing; enjoying kissing his husband would make life more pleasant, surely. He tilted his head a little and opened his mouth to gently kiss back, humming quietly around the tongue laying claim to his mouth.

Below, Yoongi’s hand was at such an angle that his knuckles began to run up and down Jimin’s belly. On every upstroke, they dug into his soft belly, on every down stroke they pulled away. He felt warm drops start to fall on his skin. He wanted to look, but Yoongi continued to kiss him deeper and more firmly, breathing out heavy huffs of air through his nose.

Yoongi was trembling. Jimin, without really thinking about it, put his hands down upon Yoongi’s waist to help support him. At the touch, the older man grunted and convulsed, and then his strokes became faster. He stopped kissing Jimin, but kept their lips connected, panting and groaning directly into Jimin’s mouth. 

Jimin had never experienced such a thing before with any of his previous lovers. It was intimate in a way he hadn’t imagined.

“Oh, fuck—Jimin, I—”

Jimin startled when abruptly Yoongi came hard, and streak after streak of warm semen shot over his belly and even as high as his chest. He gasped, mouth and eyes opening wide. Above him, Yoongi’s eyes were out of focus. Jimin stared up into his dark brown eyes, seeing the different shades of brown within his iris, noticing his eyelashes, the few freckles here and there upon his skin, the lines from age around his eyes.

He was so handsome, it almost took Jimin’s breath away.

Yoongi’s movements slowed to a pause, and then as he shut his eyes, he threw himself backward to fall upon the bed beside Jimin. Jimin took the opportunity to finally look down at himself, at the mess of thick white liquid spread across his body. His soft cock lay exhausted, seeming strangely small after staring at Yoongi’s long and thick erection. He had never thought himself to be small, but perhaps he was, after all.

A little part of Jimin knew he should be horrified by the sight and knowledge of what had happened between them. But instead, all he could feel was a strange fascination as he took in the sight of his soft and smooth body desecrated by another man’s release.

Both he and Yoongi still wore their trousers, although they were wide open and pushed slightly down their hips, but suddenly—and maybe it was the overwhelming back-and-forth of his emotions over the past several hours—Jimin choked out a slightly crazed little laugh.

Yoongi shifted beside him, pushing himself up to look at him. He looked tired, but pretty much back to normal.

“Hm?”

“We—” Jimin waved his hand flimsily toward their lower halves, thoughts all in a jumble. “We didn’t even—we still have our trousers—” He didn’t know why it was so funny. In fact, it shouldn’t be funny at all, but Jimin couldn’t help the way he giggled about it.

Yoongi snorted and then pushed himself up to sit, looking down at Jimin for a moment. “Don’t move,” he said, then. He gestured toward Jimin’s stomach, which was starting to feel cold and sticky. “I’ll get a cloth to clean you before we get this all over the bedding.”

Jimin lay still as Yoongi not only got out of bed, but also fully removed his trousers, giving Jimin an eyeful of his pale bare ass. Jimin quickly looked away.

Yoongi walked, naked, out presumably into the washroom, and came back a few moments later with a cloth. Jimin gasped sharply when it first touched his skin; it was cold and damp. Yoongi carefully wiped all of the semen from Jimin’s body until he was perfectly clean again.

 

*

 

Married life…was exactly like life before, Jimin decided. The only change was that now he and Yoongi were more intimate.

On the days Yoongi cooked fresh meals, it took him hours from start to finish. Jimin did what he could to help, slowly learning a few things here and there, getting kisses, touches, and teasing in between. His cooking wasn’t nearly as delicious as Yoongi’s, though. He always enjoyed every meal his husband made, but the few times he tried, they would glance at each other, laugh, and then look back down at their plates as they continued eating the unsatisfying food because they weren’t about to waste food.

They would spend the day outside, chopping wood to prepare for the coming winter, and then Yoongi would kiss the breath right out of Jimin after supper. Jimin would come back from riding Sunny through the moors until his hair was a sight to see, and Yoongi would make his legs give out with the way he gave so much attention to Jimin’s throat with his lips and tongue, leaving scandalous marks all over.

One evening, Jimin was brave enough to reach out and begin to massage Yoongi’s sore shoulders from where he’d been moving fresh hay into the loft of the stable to store it for the winter. Yoongi groaned loudly, making Jimin’s cheeks burst with warmth, but Jimin didn’t back down and continued to massage his shoulders and then back until Yoongi went soft under his hands.

That night, Yoongi pleasured Jimin slowly and gently until he was shuddering and gasping, needing to hide his face against Yoongi’s chest and breathe in the familiar scent of his sweat.

The element of thrilling passion that was now peppered into his life made him feel invigorated in a way he had never felt before. Even on the days he was exhausted from helping Yoongi fix a leak on the stable roof, even on the days when he found himself missing his mother or the simple conveniences of the city. Jimin gradually became more and more comfortable with and welcoming of Yoongi’s attention.

Maybe this passion was what he had truly needed. Maybe this was what his life had been missing back east.

Overall, life wasn’t terribly exciting, though. They had a few bad storms, and the weather was swiftly getting colder, but overall day-to-day life continued at a comfortable lull.

One night in October, that changed.

Jimin had woken sometime in the middle of the night, needing to relieve himself. He was still naked where he was curled up closely against Yoongi. He had fallen asleep almost immediately after Yoongi had finished pumping both of their cocks to completion within his one hand around them at the same time. Squeezing and twisting them deliciously together until Jimin came with a small cry, shuddering violently as he gripped the sheets below him and Yoongi finished himself off a minute or two later with Jimin’s sensitive cock still in hand.

Now, however, Jimin’s bladder was full and he was quite cold, so he grabbed the first shirt he found—it was too large and fell to the middle of his thighs, so it must have been Yoongi’s—and hurried, barefoot, to take a quick piss.

It was as Jimin was slowly returning to the bedroom, bladder satisfyingly empty at last, when he heard a noise coming from the front sitting room. He paused, frowning in the darkness. He hadn’t heard Yoongi get out of bed. In fact, he could still hear his gentle breathing—not quite snoring, but audible—coming from the bedroom.

There.

There it was again. It sounded like a booted footstep, a quiet creak of the floorboards.

Jimin’s heart nearly stopped. Someone was in the house. Someone who hadn’t knocked, but had let themselves in without permission.

Holding his breath and tip-toeing on the boards he knew wouldn’t make a sound, Jimin moved silently through the kitchen and took down Yoongi’s revolver. He knew it was already loaded. He also realized that there was a small amount of light flickering in the sitting room. The person had lit a candle or lantern.

When Jimin stepped around the wall into the sitting room, he pulled back the safety with an audible click.

“Put your hands up, or I’ll shoot,” he said loudly, voice shaking.

The stranger straightened up quickly and turned toward him. There was surprise and confusion in his expression, or what little Jimin could see with the single candle the man had lit. He was tall, and broad, and clearly much stronger than Jimin. He suddenly felt extremely self-conscious of his lack of undergarments.

“Hey, hey,” the man spoke, and immediately it was obvious that he wasn’t any of Jimin’s acquaintances from town. He held his hands up, but they were out in front of him instead of above his head. He was reaching toward Jimin.

“I said I’ll shoot!” Jimin exclaimed, both hands on the revolver now, trying to steady his hold. He could feel panic overcome him, his entire body shaking now.

The man stepped closer. “Hey, I don’t know who you are, but I mean you no harm. Just put the gun down, and we can talk, yeah?” he spoke loudly, as well, as if on purpose. Trying to scare Jimin further? Well, it was certainly working. It made Jimin pull his shoulders in, even though a little part of him knew he should be trying to look tougher even if he didn’t feel it.

Still holding the gun, Jimin backed up, bumping into a chair. He gasped in fright, and brandished the gun at the man.

“Don’t come any closer! I—I’ll shoot!”

“I said, I’m not gonna hurt you! Just put the gun down!” The man was nearly shouting at him, now, as if he wasn’t worried at all about possibly waking anyone else up in the house.

Something in the back of Jimin’s mind itched, like there was something familiar about the voice.

Suddenly, he heard loudly approaching footsteps, and Yoongi came stumbling into the room. He was half-dressed in just his long johns.

“Don’t shoot him!” Yoongi shouted. “Don’t shoot!” He came up behind Jimin and easily took the gun out of Jimin’s trembling hands, put the safety back on, and set it down on the writing desk.

Then, to Jimin’s shock, he threw his arms around the stranger in what clearly was an embrace. Jimin stared in confusion, peering at the face of the stranger. In the dim light, Jimin could only see the gleam of his eyes. Something in his gut twisted uncomfortably. Like he’d seen those eyes before, and they weren’t good. But he didn’t recognize the man.

Yoongi released the stranger relatively quickly, and then punched him in the side.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?” he demanded, sounding annoyed but not angry.

The man grunted in minor pain. “Was passing through. Needed a place to sleep,” the man replied. He nodded toward Jimin. “Who’s this, hmm? New lover? Looks like you two have been having fun.” His eyes skimmed down Jimin’s body as he laughed.

Jimin shuffled his bare feet closer together, his terror giving way to embarrassment. He was standing there in naught but a shirt, with his bare legs on full display in the most indecent way. He backed up again, but was stopped by the wall.

“Jimin,” Yoongi said, turning to him as well and reaching out a hand to him. Against his better judgement, Jimin immediately moved toward him, letting his hand be caught by Yoongi’s larger, warmer one, and immediately tried to hide himself behind his husband. Yoongi didn’t laugh at him like he might have normally. “I got married, Jungkook. This is my husband, Jimin.”

The man—Jungkook—whistled lowly. “You? Married? Well I’ll be. No one’s going to believe that when I tell everyone back—”

Jimin’s hearing fell away. He felt suddenly cold horror fill him.

“Everyone off! Everyone off the train!”

“Jimin?”

He gasped when he felt Yoongi’s hand upon his cheek. Eyes wide, he stared at Jungkook. At the bandana that was hanging loose around his neck. At the hat sitting on the writing desk next to Yoongi’s gun.

“W-why…do you know him?” Jimin whispered. “Who is he?”

Yoongi frowned. He glanced at Jungkook and then back at Jimin. “He’s a close friend of mine, from my travels. Something of a protégé, you could say. Before I came back to care for my father.”

Jimin shook his head, and began to step back. “No. He’s—Yoongi, he’s—” Jimin was having trouble speaking.

Yoongi put both hands on his shoulders. “Shh, shh, Jimin, come on—” he turned to Jungkook. “You stay right there and don’t touch anything. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Yoongi led Jimin out of the sitting room and back into the bedroom, sitting Jimin down on the edge of the bed. After lighting the lantern, he returned to the bed and tilted Jimin’s face up to his to kiss him gently.

“You’re safe, Jimin. You’re safe. There’s nothing to worry about. Jungkook, he—”

“He’s one of the road agents!” Jimin hissed, keeping his voice down, but lurching forward to grab at Yoongi’s bare arms. “He’s one of the road agents from the day I arrived. He blew up the train, Yoongi, he threatened to shoot us, he—he stole all that money!”

Yoongi pulled him close and held him tight. “He was one of them?” he asked, voice strangely calm.

Jimin nodded against his shoulder.

“Did he—did he hurt you? Personally?”

“Well, no, but—”

Jimin felt Yoongi let out a deep breath of air that he hadn’t realized the other man had drawn in.

“Good.”

Jimin pushed away. “Good?” He stared, flabbergasted. “What’s good about that?”

“That he didn’t hurt you.”

“But he—”

“If he hurt you, that’d be a different story.”

“What?”

Jimin didn’t know what was going on. When Yoongi straightened back up, Jimin sank back on the bed, frowning up at him.

“Stay here, okay? I’m going to go talk to him. You can go back to sleep. Everything’s fine.”

“No, I—”

Yoongi silenced him with a firm kiss and then strode right back out of the room, leaving Jimin alone. He looked down at his bare legs and quickly jumped back up, pulling out a pair of clean long johns and trading Yoongi’s shirt for one of his own.

He could hear the low hum of their voices through the wall, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying. He climbed back into his side of the bed, sitting there and watching the way the lantern flame flickered upon the wall and dresser. The voices through the wall rose momentarily, as if the two men out there were arguing, but then they faded once more.

A while later, Yoongi returned. He sighed heavily, and returned to the bed. He extinguished the lantern and slid down under the covers, reaching out for Jimin.

“He’s a road agent, Yoongi,” Jimin whispered again. “How can you let him stay here? He’s going to steal from us.”

Yoongi snorted softly, and pulled Jimin into his arms. Begrudgingly, Jimin let himself be held closely because it felt good and safe. “He won’t steal from us.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because Jungkook wouldn’t dare steal anything from me.”

It was silent for several long moments. Jimin thought that was the end of it, even though he couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea of Yoongi being friends with an outlaw. But then, Yoongi’s hands began to wander, he began to nose at Jimin’s jaw and throat, and then he was rolling on top of Jimin, hands slipping under his clothing.

Jimin gasped and blindly seized Yoongi’s wrists.

“What are you doing?” he whispered quickly.

Yoongi drew back enough for him to vaguely see the outline of his face. “Helping you relax and feel good so you can sleep well,” he murmured softly.

If this was any other situation, Jimin would give into that declaration. But not right now.

“There’s a man just in the other room!” Jimin hissed.

“He won’t even know—”

“Yes, he will!”

“He won’t care; it’s our house, and we’re married.”

“No,” Jimin said firmly. “I’m not—not when there’s someone right there.”

Yoongi sighed, but pulled back and settled down beside him again. Not liking the way the silence felt awkward between them, Jimin shifted closer to Yoongi until he was pressed up against his side. He felt Yoongi smile against his temple, and then he pressed a kiss there.

“Turn over a bit,” he murmured into Jimin’s hair. “So I can hold you better.”

It took some shuffling, but Jimin turned until his back was to Yoongi’s front. His husband pulled him flush against him, one arm wrapped securely around Jimin’s waist. Jimin heaved out a shuddering breath.

“There you go,” Yoongi soothed against his ear, in the same way he did when Jimin was feeling overwhelmed from an orgasm and needed his comforting words.

Jimin let himself breathe deeply, settling back against him. Yoongi shifted slightly and Jimin’s eyes opened when he felt the other man’s soft penis nestle directly between his buttocks. Jimin reached down and took Yoongi’s hand in his. Partly to keep him from moving it somewhere else, partly to ground himself.

Yoongi kissed the back of his throat. “Sleep, now.”

Jimin shuddered and nodded. He closed his eyes.

 

In the morning, Jimin awoke to an empty bed. He quickly dressed and went into the kitchen to find the road agent sitting at their table, drinking coffee. He looked up when Jimin entered the room.

He was shockingly young, perhaps close to Jimin’s own age, and—as his name had suggested last night, also Korean. Even so, he was taller than even Yoongi, and just as broad.

“Morning, Mr. Min,” he raised his cup of coffee in a mock toast, smirking at Jimin.

Yoongi turned to notice Jimin’s presence. “Good morning, Jimin. Breakfast should be ready shortly.”

“Why is he still here?” Jimin wasn’t going to sit at the same table as an outlaw. Daylight and being fully clothed gave him the courage he couldn’t find at night.

Jungkook set the cup down and put both hands up jokingly. “I heard you happened to be on that train,” he said, raising one eyebrow. “I apologize that you had to be part of that.” He picked his coffee up again and brought it to his lips. “But I don’t apologize for what I did.”

Jimin bristled at Jungkook’s lack of shame. “I am not eating if he’s here,” he said, clenching his fists at his side. “Yoongi, I will not sit at the same table as a criminal!”

Jungkook snorted loudly, as if Jimin had said something hilarious. Yoongi scowled at him briefly before turning to Jimin and taking him by the shoulders.

“Sweetheart, please calm down. He’s not going to do anything. He’ll eat, and then he’ll be on his way.”

“I will?” Jungkook questioned.

“You will,” Yoongi confirmed.

“It’s getting cold out there, Yoongi. I need a place to sleep.” Jungkook had the gall to sound angry.

“And you’ll find somewhere else to sleep. You know there’s a hotel in town. You know there are enough women at that saloon for you to find yourself a warm bed for a few nights. Then move on. Go south.”

Jungkook looked both shocked and angry, now. “That’s exactly what they’d expect me to do, go south. What the fuck’s wrong with you? Why can’t I just stay here? It’s never been a problem before.”

“Because I’m married now!” Yoongi exclaimed loudly.

There was silence. Jimin didn’t realize he had startled hard until Yoongi put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “Sorry, Jimin. I didn’t mean to shout. I just—” he glanced at the pans on the stove, then seemed to come to a decision. He let go of Jimin and strode toward Jungkook, grabbing him roughly by the arm to pull him up. “Come with me. We’re going to talk.”

Jimin was left alone in the quiet of the kitchen with only the hissing and popping of hash on the stove. After a moment of just standing there, Jimin stepped over to the stove to make sure the food wasn’t burned and wasted in Yoongi’s absence. He picked up the wooden spoon and stirred the hash a little. He noticed that his usual mug of coffee was sitting off to the side on the stove to stay warm. He picked it up and carefully took a sip. Yoongi had made it the way Jimin liked; it was creamy and sweet, nothing like the coffee Jimin had pretended he liked in the beginning.

Jimin lifted up the lid of the second pot on the stove, finding some stove biscuits being kept warm.

Movement out of the corner of his eye made him turn to look out through the window. He saw Yoongi and Jungkook outside, gesturing wildly at each other, sometimes at the house, sometimes in the direction of town. Jimin found himself fascinated; despite Yoongi’s smaller height, and whatever attitude Jungkook seemed to have, it was also very clear that Yoongi was the one calling the shots. What had he called Jungkook before? His protégé?

Jimin put some butter and jam on the table and then begrudgingly got out three plates. He filled his own with some hash and a hot biscuit, and brought his coffee over to his seat at the table. He quietly split his biscuit and spread some butter and jam upon it, taking a bite as the front door opened and the two men returned.

Yoongi sighed. “Jungkook will be leaving after breakfast,” he said.

Jimin didn’t say anything, just looking between the two men. Although Jimin hadn’t known Yoongi long, he could feel that this wasn’t what Yoongi wanted, but Jimin just…couldn’t harbor an outlaw in their home. Just because he was friends with Yoongi, and supposedly wouldn’t steal from them—what if he went to  the Jungs’ and decided to steal from them? It didn’t matter that he and Yoongi were safe if others weren’t.

After breakfast, Yoongi went with Jungkook out to the stable. Jimin, upon entering the sitting room, noticed a pile of furs and blankets on the floor where Jungkook had slept.

“Didn’t even pick up after himself,” Jimin muttered.

 

*

 

Yoongi pulled open the stable door, stepping inside with Jungkook right behind him. As he expected, Jungkook’s horse Bullet was in Sunny’s stall with her, and the two horses were patiently waiting for breakfast.

“Hey there, old girl,” Jungkook said, giving Sunny a nose rub. “Did Bullet give you the good gossip?

Yoongi just shook his head and went about getting the feed for the horses as usual.

“So. Married, hm?” Jungkook said at last. “How’s that treating you? And where’d you two meet, anyway?”

“I sent out an advertisement in the papers out east. You must’ve not seen it.” It was unusual that Jungkook wouldn’t have been up-to-date with the news, honestly.

Jungkook frowned thoughtfully. “I don’t recall seeing it.” He smirked. “Probably best I didn’t see it, or we might’ve sent you some letters for fun.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“So, he came out here, and—hm, it’s only been a bit since he arrived. It was our train he was on the day he arrived?”

“That’s right.”

“And you’re already married and acting like a proper couple,” he teased. “Bit young, though, isn’t he? That’s why I thought he was just one of your lovers.”

“He’s about to be twenty three,” Yoongi shrugged. “He’s mature enough, and has a good head on his shoulders.”

“Gives good head, too, I bet,” Jungkook snorted.

Yoongi turned and used the nearly empty grain sack to whack him. “Don’t talk about him like that.”

“Fine, fine. But only a year younger than me,” Jungkook whistled again. “What his parents think?”

“They’re dead. He’s got no one but me now.”

“Ah.”

They were silent for a moment.

“Well, good luck with that, anyway. You deserve a happy life, Yoongi.”

“Hm.”

He watched as Jungkook looked around the stable in curiosity. “Cleaner in here than I remember. And what’s this?” He went over to the space Jimin had been using as his workshop. “You’ve picked up carpentry?”

“That’s Jimin’s,” Yoongi walked over to it with him. It looked like Jimin was building a shelf, or perhaps it would be a cabinet once he was finished. It was surprisingly nice, for his lack of knowledge of woodworking. “Considering he came from New York City, he’s been adjusting well so far. And he’s not lazy, either. I like that about him.”

“Among other things, I bet.”

“Fuck off. What’s your problem? Been too long since you’ve had a cunt around your dick?”

“Hasn’t been too long,” Jungkook snorted. “Maybe a week or two?”

Jungkook, even since he was in his late teens, was a ladies' man. Always flirting with the ladies, never having any problem bringing them to bed—or going to their beds. But he also never stuck to the same woman for more than a couple times. While Yoongi had had his fair share of lovers as well, he wasn’t nearly as obsessed with moving from one to the other.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll find a lady or two in town willing to share their bed with you. Might have to pay, though.”

“Might be able to convince them otherwise,” Jungkook smirked.

Yoongi looked at him long and hard. “Don’t you go starting trouble in that saloon. Seokjin Kim knows how to keep his mouth shut and doesn’t stick his nose in other people’s business, but if you cause him or his girls any trouble, you’ll be strung up for the law in no time. No sympathy, no mercy. Don’t fuck things up.”

By the time Jungkook and Bullet were heading down the road, it was already late morning. Yoongi put Chief and Sunny to pasture and mucked out their stalls before heading back to the house.

Jimin was in the sitting room, building up a fire.

“Is he gone?” were the first words out of his mouth.

“Yes,” Yoongi sighed. “He’s gone.”

“Where to?”

“Who knows,” Yoongi lied. “You don’t need to worry about him, Jimin. He won’t be back.”

Jimin frowned. “You—he’s a criminal, but you still care about him.”

Yoongi opened his mouth and had to hold himself back from retorting. “I can’t just stop caring about him, Jimin.”

“But he’s—”

“Not all criminals are bad,” Yoongi interrupted. “Tell me, what would you do if someone you cared about had to steal to survive? That’s a criminal, right?”

“Well, I’d—” Jimin broke off, clearly torn. “But that’s not the same as threatening people and hurting them!”

Yoongi shook his head. “No, it’s not,” he agreed. “But sometimes that’s proactive defense.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes, threatening someone, with no intention of actually harming them, is how someone protects themselves from harm.”

Yoongi could see the way Jimin was thinking. He had, after all, no more than a handful of hours earlier, threatened to shoot Jungkook. But Yoongi knew that Jimin hadn’t had any intention of actually shooting. He was too frightened by violence to actually use the gun. Although, Yoongi sincerely hoped that Jimin would pull the trigger, if it truly came to a situation of life or death.

He was just thankful Jimin hadn’t actually shot Jungkook.

 

*

 

After Jungkook left, life seemed to go back to normal.

Jimin’s twenty-third birthday was a quiet, private affair. Rather than sleep in, he joined Yoongi fishing. It was very chilly, so even though Jimin intended to attempt catching a few fish himself, he ended up staying bundled in the furs Yoongi had thought to bring along in the boat. His husband didn’t seem to mind; he only glanced at Jimin every so often with a softly amused expression on his face.

Jimin sat curled up on the floor of the boat, just the top of his head visible, watching as the morning sun lit up the frosted colorful autumn leaves and made them sparkle like magic. He watched the way Yoongi sat motionless for so long before suddenly pulling in a fish. He listened to the quiet ripple of the water lapping at the sides of the boat. He listened to the birds waking and singing in the trees.

“Jimin? …Jimin?”

He frowned and realized his eyes were closed. Pouting and stretching his shoulders, Jimin opened his eyes to find Yoongi very close and hovering over him.

“Good morning,” he said sleepily.

Yoongi chuckled. “Good morning. Do you realize you fell asleep in middle of the river?”

Jimin lifted his head and looked around. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh. I’m ready to head back, and as strong as I might be, I’m not going to carry you the whole way,” he said.

Jimin’s eyes widened, and he felt heat bloom in his cheeks. The idea of Yoongi carrying him was sudden and shockingly—no, he wasn’t going to go there.

Yoongi’s eyes, however, were sharp, and he didn’t miss the flush. “Oh, do you want me to carry you?”

“N-no, of course not! Why would you say—”

The boat hit the shore, and Yoongi hopped out, heaving it out the rest of the way with Jimin still inside. It made his stomach swoop. When Yoongi held out a hand to help Jimin out, he purposely made Jimin trip into him.

If Jimin let his husband kiss him breathless right there in the middle of the wilderness, no one need know.

“I could carry you,” Yoongi whispered against his ear, once Jimin was leaning breathless against him. “If you really want.”

Jimin pulled back to stare at him, thoughts warring inside his mind. He wasn’t some silly damsel. He wasn’t weak. Why did the idea of Yoongi scooping him up into his arms, holding him tight against him, Jimin’s feet up in the air—why did that image in his head make him feel all sorts of—why did it make him feel like that?

“I—can walk,” Jimin managed to say, in barely a whisper.

The teasing light in Yoongi’s eyes dimmed, and he nodded.

“But—” Jimin said quickly, fingers fisting themselves against him, “before we go, just one more…?”

Yoongi swallowed the tentative question, tongue curving against his, drawing out those soft, embarrassing sounds from Jimin. When he finally pulled away, he smiled.

“I’ll make you feel good when we get back,” he promised.

Jimin’s heart raced. And when they returned to the house, Yoongi used his mouth on him for the first time. Jimin watched with wide eyes as Yoongi made his way down his body, kissing and licking everywhere, until his lips touched Jimin’s semi-hard cock and Jimin couldn’t stop the way he threw his head back and whimpered.

He let Yoongi pleasure him slowly and deliberately with his mouth until he was squirming on their bed, gasping for air and begging him for something he didn’t know the name of. Yoongi’s mouth was hot around him, massaging and sucking, moving up and down, flicking his tongue over the head, directly against the slit.

When Jimin came, it took him a long moment to realize that Yoongi had swallowed his release. But he seemed happy to have done so. His tongue tasted funny when he crawled back up the bed to kiss Jimin, but Jimin soon forgot as he became caught up in their usual post-release kissing.

 

The days grew colder.

Jimin proudly finished the shelf he had been building, and with Yoongi’s help attached it to one of the walls in the sitting room. They spent an evening organizing and placing books in it, as well as an empty glass bottle Jimin had found. He placed a few of the last wild asters of the season into it with some water. Almost immediately it seemed to brighten up the room a little more.

One Saturday, Jimin went into town on his own while Yoongi stayed home, butchering and preparing some bear meat for storage. Jimin took Sunny, waving goodbye as he headed off down the road. The day was chilly, so Jimin had bundled up in his warmest coat, with a scarf and hat to protect him from the winds. Even so, his legs were a little numb on the outsides by the time he reached town.

He tied Sunny up in the stable by the hotel and then went inside to the saloon.

“Afternoon, Jimin,” Jin greeted him as he came up to the bar. “Are you here for a drink or are you here for my little brother?”

“Is Taehyung here today?” Jimin asked even as he pulled out some coins Yoongi had given him.

“He is. He’s upstairs working on his candles.”

“Could I have a coffee?”

“Milk and sugar?”

“Yes, please.”

Jimin waited as Jin poured some beans into the grinder and turned the handle around and around to grind the beans down. Jimin breathed in with a smile; he always loved the smell of freshly ground coffee beans. Once he had his steaming coffee in hand several minutes later, Jimin thanked him and took the stairs up to the second floor. He knocked on the door he knew to be Taehyung’s.

“Taehyung? It’s Jimin,” he called out. A moment later the door swung open, but instead of Taehyung, it was the middle brother, Namjoon. “Oh! Sorry, did I—” Jimin glanced back down the hallway, wondering if he had stopped at the wrong door.

“No, no; come in!” Namjoon laughed, stepping aside. Taehyung was standing by a row of dripping candles. He looked over at the door and smiled widely at Jimin.

“Jimin! Hello!”

Jimin stepped inside and Namjoon shut the door, following Jimin into the room. Jimin hadn’t interacted with the other man much yet, as he was usually at the schoolhouse when Jimin came into town with Yoongi. But the few times they had crossed paths, he seemed to be a kind man. The Jung twins also seemed to speak highly of him, even if sometimes they complained about the schoolwork.

Jimin took a seat on the edge of Taehyung’s bed, holding his coffee carefully to avoid spilling it.

“Is Yoongi off running errands?” Taehyung asked, dipping a candle into the steaming pot of wax he had by his fireplace.

Jimin shook his head. “No, it’s just me today. I thought it would be a nice change to go for a ride. Bit cold, though,” he added.

“Oh, you haven’t seen nothing yet,” Namjoon laughed. “It’ll get even colder soon enough. And the snows will start soon, I gather.”

“Yoongi warned me it would be cold,” Jimin acknowledged. “But I admit I can’t imagine it being even colder than this…”

“Oh, you’ll not want to leave your bed soon enough,” Taehyung piped up. He hung the pair of candles he was holding over a wooden stand that had rods upon which the connected candles were hanging to harden. “Good thing you have someone to keep you warm in bed,” he winked. “I need to find myself someone before winter hits!”

Jimin took a sip of coffee to hide his face, peeking over at Namjoon. He still wasn’t used to the open way in which Taehyung discussed his…interests. And as far as Jimin knew, Namjoon, just like Jin, was only interested in women. He’d heard a story from Frankie about a “pretty lady teacher” who had visited their schoolhouse the year before and the children had been endlessly teasing both her and Namjoon after one of the older students caught them a little too close against the black board one early morning.

Namjoon, however, didn’t seem bothered or even affected by the scandalous words coming out of his brother’s mouth. Perhaps he was just used to them.

“What does everyone do in the winter if it’s so cold out?” Jimin asked, then. “Is it not too cold to go into town, and go to school?”

“You get used to it,” Taehyung replied. “But we do wake up later and go to bed earlier, that’s for sure. Not much daylight, after all.”

The conversation shifted to focus on Namjoon, then.

“You know, I’d been considering doing the same as Yoongi,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Putting an advertisement out. It might be nice to have a female teacher in the schoolhouse as well. I mean, we did, at one point, but she ended up leaving.”

“Oh, I thought you meant looking for a wife,” Taehyung interjected, taking a knife to cut the paired candles apart.

“I did. But it’d be even better if she was a schoolteacher, as well,” Namjoon clarified.

“Why don’t you, then?” Jimin asked.

“Well, I don’t know. The idea of a stranger coming all the way out here to marry me, not knowing anything about her, her not knowing anything about me…” He glanced at Jimin. “I’m glad it seems to be working out for you and Yoongi, but I just don’t know. I need it to be a bit more personal than just through letters.”

Jimin shook his head and laughed. “Things certainly would have been different if I had met Yoongi first.”

Taehyung let out a giggle. “Would you have refused him immediately?”

“Well, I would have at least known I wasn’t going to be marrying a woman, that’s for sure,” Jimin snorted looking down at his hands in his lap.

Then he froze. Taehyung and Namjoon were quiet for a second.

“What?”

Slowly, Jimin looked back up. Both Namjoon and Taehyung were looking at him with frowns on their faces. Taehyung looked confused, and Namjoon looked concerned.

“I—I mean, I—” Later, Jimin would see that he probably could have saved himself and no one would have been the wiser. But in the moment, his panic overtook his brain and just dug a deeper hole.

“You thought you were coming to marry a woman?” Namjoon asked sharply.

“I—” Jimin couldn’t think. He glanced at the door.

Taehyung set down the candles he had been holding and came over to the bed, putting his hand on Jimin’s shoulder. When Jimin flinched at the touch, he let go, but stayed beside him.

“It’s okay,” he tried to soothe. “We—” he glanced at Namjoon, “we won’t tell anyone. Promise.”

The dam broke.

“When I read the newspaper, it had already been damaged by the rain. I thought it was a woman named Yoonji looking for a husband. I thought I was coming to marry a woman.”

“Does Yoongi know?”

Jimin shook his head. “No. The day I arrived, I was already in shock from the road agent attack, and then I just didn’t know how to react to him.”

“Wait. But…do you not like men, then?” Taehyung asked. “I thought—”

Jimin wasn’t expecting his eyes to water. “I don’t know! I don’t know. Y—Yoongi has been so…wonderful. He’s been nothing like I expected. But I just…I don’t understand all of these feelings. They’re so…so wrong but I can’t help how he makes me feel,” he pressed his hands against his face.

“Jimin, who told you it’s wrong?” Taehyung demanded. “There’s nothing wrong with men loving other men.”

“My father. He…he said it was disgusting. Not—not in so many words; he just hated how weak and unmanly I was. He didn’t let me be close with other men, because he said I acted improperly with them even though I never understood what he meant. He punished me whenever I cried, he always pestered me about finding a woman—” Jimin hiccupped. “But I always felt unpleasant after being with a woman. I thought it was just that it was them, that I didn’t like being intimate with them. And now, I just, I don’t understand. Because being with Yoongi, it feels so…right. Why does it feel right? I don’t understand.”

“It feels right because it is right, Jimin.” Namjoon’s voice made him look up. The older man looked concerned, but calm and encouraging. “It feels right because all along that’s what you should have been doing.”

Jimin looked up at him through blurry eyes. “All…all along?” All along he liked…men? Was that why he felt this way? He wasn’t just changing to accommodate Yoongi, but he already, truly preferred men?

A small sob burst through, and this time when Taehyung wrapped his arms around him, he didn’t push him away.

They all startled when there was a knock on the door. Taehyung gestured frantically to Namjoon, who stood up to answer the door and block Jimin from sight with his body.

“Oh, Joon.” It was Jin. “Can you or Taehyung help me downstairs? There’s a large group that’s come in and I could use a hand.”

“I can help you. I’ll be right down.”

The door shut when Namjoon slipped out.

“You like Yoongi, don’t you?” Taehyung asked him quietly after a moment.

Jimin could only nod at first. When he could catch his breath enough, he whispered, “I feel safe with him. I—I even like being—being pleasured by him.” This last part was barely a whisper, so embarrassed he was to voice the truth. “Yoongi is so good to me. Even when I don’t give him what he wants.”

Taehyung squeezed him tightly and then let go. “What do you mean, you don’t give him what he wants?”

Jimin hesitated. It was improper to discuss intimacy with people other than one’s spouse or lover, but Taehyung sounded like he had experience with men. And he wasn’t afraid to talk about it. Perhaps…perhaps it could be helpful to talk to him.

“We haven’t been truly intimate,” he said. Then he forced himself to clarify. “We haven’t consummated our marriage properly.”

“But you said he has pleasured you?” Taehyung sounded confused.

“We have not had intercourse,” Jimin forced out. “We have only…only kissed and…he has brought me to completion.”

“Ohh Jimin, you innocent thing,” Taehyung exclaimed suddenly, nearly startling Jimin.

“I am not innocent,” Jimin protested. “I am an adult.” But then he deflated. “I just…on our marriage night, he went to…he was going to penetrate me, but I stopped him.”

“Did he push you?”

Jimin shook his head. “No, he has never forced me to do anything. Everything we have done was because I—I wanted to.”

“And do you want to have sex with him? Do you want him to penetrate you?”

Jimin’s entire face became hot. He thought he was going to choke on the words. “I—yes.” Even as the truth rolled out of him like a pipe becoming unclogged, he quickly backtracked. “I mean, I am curious. A bit. But…I don’t understand how it works between men. I know where, I just don’t know how. It seems…dirty, is it not?” He finally looked up properly at Taehyung, who was smiling widely at him.

“Well, of course it is dirty. It is sex, after all.”

“No, I mean—”

“I know what you meant. But Jimin, I can assure you that being penetrated by another man is absolutely amazing.”

“It does not hurt? I have never…never even touched myself there before. Other than to clean myself, of course.”

Taehyung straightened up and drew both legs onto the bed so he was facing Jimin. “If you do not prepare for it properly, it can hurt. But if you prepare properly, it can feel like nothing else you could imagine. Did you know, there is a little spot inside you down there, that if pleasured, will make all orgasms you’ve had before seem almost pathetic?”

“It will feel that good?”

“Yes,” Taehyung insisted. “But you need to prepare first.”

“How does one…prepare for that?”

Taehyung pursed his lips, looking determined. “You get some oil on your finger, and you carefully stretch yourself.”

Jimin’s eyes widened. “Stretch—that? With my finger?”

“Yes.” Then, to Jimin’s partial horror and partial fascination, Taehyung went on to explain to him exactly how to “open” himself and where to look for “that little bundle of nerves” inside him. Then he told him what to do when Yoongi put himself inside him.

“There’s…something else, too, I was wondering about” Jimin said, then.

“What is it?”

Jimin knew he was going to have to bite the bullet and just be honest if he was ever going to figure things out. “I’ve noticed that—and this never happened before, when I was with women—after I find release, I feel…out of sorts. I don’t really know how to explain. I feel…vulnerable? Maybe that’s the right word. I’ve never felt like that with women, but with Yoongi, I feel vulnerable and delicate after my—”

“Orgasms,” Taehyung interrupted him. “Say it with me, Jimin: orgasms.”

Jimin whined slightly in discomfort. “Orgasms,” he whispered. “I feel that way after my…orgasms. And then Yoongi cares for me so wonderfully, it makes me like to be weak like that.”

Taehyung’s face was a mixture of understanding and awe. “So you are that kind of man.”

“What does that mean?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” he hurried to clarify. “I think it’s a rather beautiful thing, myself. And at times, I, too, feel that way. Perhaps not as strongly as you do, though. You need to have a lot of trust with your lover for that kind of vulnerability.” He smiled. “I hope one day, I can experience that.”

“So…it’s a good thing? I shouldn’t fight it?”

Taehyung nodded. “Have you been fighting it?”

“Yes.”

“See what it feels like when you stop fighting it. I know Yoongi will take good care of you.”

“But what does it mean? It’s—I don’t understand it.”

“All it means is that you experience intimacy with your entire being, and you trust Yoongi to take care of you in a way you have never felt with anyone else before. It is a good thing, Jimin. Don’t fight it.”

By the time they were done with their conversation, Jimin had gone through a multitude of emotions and felt overwhelmingly exhausted.

When he finally stood up to leave, Jimin stared hard at Taehyung. “You really won’t say anything, right? And Namjoon won’t, either?”

“Of course not. It’s your secret to tell. I think you should tell Yoongi. He deserves to know. And I think you will feel better if you tell him. But it’s your choice.”

“What if I tell him and he wants to divorce me?”

Taehyung’s smile turned very strange.

“What? Why are you smiling like that?”

“Because you like Yoongi so much, you’re afraid of him divorcing you,” he grinned.

Jimin opened his mouth to protest, but found that whatever he might say would just be a blatant lie.

Instead, he hung his head, glancing up briefly through his eyelashes. “I do like him a lot.”

“Well, I’m glad!”

When Jimin returned downstairs to the saloon, empty coffee mug in hand, he was not expecting to see Jungkook sitting right at a table nearby, hand around the waist of a dirty-blond woman who was sitting on his thigh. The road agent looked up at him, made eye contact, and then his gaze shifted from Jimin to Taehyung. His eyebrows rose, and he narrowed his eyes at Jimin.

Almost immediately, the shock at seeing the road agent turned to horrified realization of what it looked like to Jungkook, an old friend of Yoongi’s.

“Ohh, he’s handsome,” Taehyung’s voice spoke up far too close to Jimin’s ear for comfort. “I don’t think I’ve seen him before. Wonder if he likes the company of men as much as he seems to like the ladies?”

“No,” Jimin protested before he could think about it. “Taehyung, don’t—he—no, you don’t want seduce him.”

Taehyung burst out laughing, and slapped Jimin on the back. “Seduce? I don’t need to seduce my men, Jimin. They just come to me. And anyway, why not? He’s exactly the kind of man I enjoy.”

 

*

 

 

Notes:

I've been so excited for this new development!!! (Well, multiple developments, lol.) We have now met all seven members! We're also going to slowly venture into the 'readers know something Jimin doesn't know' stage....

Also, if you follow me on twitter, you may have seen me talk about a change to a scene I had already written. Well...I momentarily considered having Jimin accidentally shoot Jungkook because his hand was on the trigger and he accidentally pressed it. But then I really didn't want to deal with the reality that without them being able to take him to a doctor in that time period, he probably would be in grave danger. I didn't want to deal with all of that drama, and him being shot would literally just be for shock value, so I kept the scene the way I'd originally intended, lol. I hope you still enjoyed it.

Chapter 5: Chapter V

Notes:

I suppose I should give a minor warning for awkward/uncomfortable sexual exploration in this? I don't want to spoil anything, but there's some discomfort in one scene.

Enjoy!

 

Chapter V

 

The ride back home was long and quiet. It gave Jimin time to think.

All along. He thought back to when he was younger. The senior boy he had admired in school. Feeling excited and shy around other boys, but unbothered around girls. Following around his male friends like a puppy, trying to get their attention—until his father made some remark about how they were a bad influence on him, and told him to focus on his studies.

Had his father known, and that’s why he had said the things he had said to Jimin? He had given up trying to make Jimin manlier, but he had always kept him away from making close friends. Whenever he’d been invited out, his father said he needed to stay home. Whenever he brought a friend home, his father made up some excuse to cut the visit short. Little things, here and there, until Jimin was used to being on his own.

It wasn’t even that Jimin didn’t notice that women were attractive, either. He knew very well when a lady was pretty, and often admired them with interest. They were nice to look at, after all. But thinking back on it, Jimin wondered if the interest he’d felt was a different kind of interest. He had admired the way they put time into styling themselves, the way they held themselves elegantly—for the most part. He had watched, fascinated, as women flirted with men at the saloon, and the way men approached the women they were interested in. The way the men were usually bigger than the women, and could hold them with ease.

Jimin shivered and pulled his coat closer. He realized he wasn’t paying attention to leading Sunny, so it was a good thing she assumed they were headed home.

He looked down at his hand with his wedding ring adorning it.

For the rest of the ride, Jimin tried to keep his thoughts empty, just taking in the scenery. He could smell winter on the air, and most of the leaves had fallen from the trees already, leaving only the evergreens lush and splashing the landscape with color. It was a different kind of seasonal change than he was used to. In the city, the change of seasons was marked by the cold, yes, but mostly grayness that overtook the city. People bustled around in thicker coats, keeping their heads down against the wind. The poor would light small fires in alleyways to keep warm. The rich flaunted their furs and their fancy hats. The streets would be dirty; coated in ash to prevent the danger of slipping on the packed, icy snow.

Here, it was all about nature. The mountains already were capped with white. The streams had ice banks, glittering in the sun as their edges dripped back into the bubbling water flowing between. The birds that had stayed for the season were puffy and cute whenever Jimin caught sight of them in the branches of trees nearby, or perched upon the fences. They’d had a few snow flurries already, but nothing significant yet. Yoongi kept telling Jimin that any day now, the real snows would begin, though.

Yoongi was outside chopping more firewood when he came into view. Two thin trails of smoke drifted up from the chimneys, curling and drifting in the breeze. Yoongi paused momentarily to wave before returning to his task. Jimin led Sunny back into the stable and gave her a brush-down before going to greet him.

It was strange, seeing Yoongi and knowing now that Jimin wasn’t just pretending. He looked at his husband, taking in how handsome he was, how strong and capable he was, and realized that he was genuinely attracted to Yoongi. Not just because he was easy on the eyes and he might as well admire his husband, but just Yoongi by himself, did something to Jimin’s insides that suddenly made so much more sense, now. The way he was always blushing around the other man? The way his skin tingled when they touched accidentally? The way his deep voice made him feel things he didn’t understand?

Well, he certainly understood them, now.

“Did you have a good time in town?” Yoongi asked, setting down the ax and focusing his attention on Jimin. “Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, then, frowning slightly.

Jimin startled. “N-no reason,” he avoided. “I just—” he leaned up to kiss him briefly, the touch lingering on his lips in a new way. “I saw Jungkook at the saloon,” he said.

“He’s still hanging around?”

“It seems so.” Jimin swallowed, looking away. “He had some girl on his lap, fondling her.”

Yoongi snorted. “No surprise there.”

Jimin then remembered the way Jungkook had looked at him and Taehyung. He wondered if he should say anything. But it wasn’t like Yoongi would see Jungkook again anytime soon, right? So it didn’t matter if Jungkook misunderstood what he’d seen in the saloon. It was none of his business, anyway, after all.

Jimin hovered for a moment, feeling like he should say something else, but unsure of what. He glanced at the house.

“You just went to the saloon?” Yoongi said, then.

Jimin turned back to him, shuffling slightly. Why did he feel so nervous? “Yes. Taehyung was making candles. He and Joon and I chatted while he worked.”

“Hm. How’s Namjoon doing? I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“He’s good.”

“Good.” Yoongi picked up the ax, leaning on it.

“He’s…he mentioned he’s been thinking about putting an advertisement out for a wife,” Jimin told him. He saw Yoongi’s eyebrows perk up in surprise or perhaps just interest. “Said he wants a schoolteacher wife.”

“Ha. Convenient.”

“But he doesn’t think he could do it because it’s not as personal as meeting in person.”

Jimin watched the way Yoongi reacted. He was silent, at first. Observing Jimin, it seemed. Maybe they were watching for each other’s reactions.

“Are you regretting it?” Yoongi asked, then.

The question didn’t really surprise Jimin. Yoongi was always so blunt, so straight to the point. Answering it, however, took more effort. It wasn’t just a simple one-word answer. There was so much more to it than just, “No.”

“Sometimes it’s difficult,” Jimin said honestly. “But you’ve been good to me. I’m grateful.”

Yoongi set down the ax and stepped closer. “Just grateful?”

“It’s more than that, of course,” Jimin bit his bottom lip out of habit, pulling it into his mouth. “Do you…are you satisfied by me?”

Yoongi raised a single eyebrow. “Do you want my polite answer to that, or my honest answer?”

For some reason, Jimin’s belly swooped. “What’s the difference?”

“Well, one of them is a simple, ‘Yes, of course.’ The other, however, is not for everyone’s ears.”

“Oh.” Jimin wanted to know. Every single word that came out of Yoongi’s mouth now felt so different. Realizing the truth of his own self, Jimin noticed more than ever the way his body reacted, the way his mind turned a little chaotic. The way there was something itching under his skin that he really didn’t understand.

Taehyung’s words echoed in his mind: ‘Don’t fight it.’

But Jimin just couldn’t stop fighting it. It didn’t work so simply. He couldn’t just switch it off. But he could pay attention to the feelings in a different way. Like the fact that right now, he had the most unreasonable desire for Yoongi to—to put his hands on him and—and whisper exactly what his second answer was, directly against his ear with his low, gravelly voice. The answer for his ears only.

Jimin shuddered, blinking rapidly. He swallowed and took a step back. His heel hit the edge of the porch.

“It’s cold,” he said suddenly. “I’m going inside, if you don’t mind.”

Yoongi nodded. “Okay.” He picked up the ax again. “I’ll be in after a bit.”

 

*

 

Jimin wasn’t sure what had woken him so early, but when he felt the bed dipping momentarily, he mumbled a little and rolled over to see Yoongi leaving for hunting. Usually he slept right through his husband leaving in the morning. He lay there quietly for several long moments until he felt the chill of the room. Best to get up and start a fire.

It was sunny outside, a thin layer of snow on the ground which sparkled like little white jewels. Jimin decided he would take advantage of being awake so early to have a proper wash. He heated up water on the cookstove and brought it into the washroom, shivering as he undressed. There were a few crusty smears of semen Yoongi had missed last night when he wiped Jimin off. Jimin rubbed the hot, soapy cloth over his skin until he was smooth and clean.

It was then that he recalled Taehyung’s words from several days ago about preparing himself. He was alone. It would be the perfect time. Drying himself off a bit, Jimin went to the bedroom and brought the glass bottle of oil he knew Yoongi kept on the floor beside their bed. He sat down on the inside of the empty metal bathing tub and spread his legs.

Just the sight of his legs spread like that, knowing what he was about to do, made his heart rate increase a little. He popped off the top of the bottle and tilted it until a few drops ran onto his finger. He quickly stopped up the bottle again and set that on the floor beside the tub. He rubbed the oil around his finger until he thought it was enough.

Then, carefully, he reached down between his thighs and pressed it against his hole. It was strange to be touching himself there with his bare finger. He didn’t feel anything interesting, even when he moved his finger in a circle around the rim and pressed inward slightly. He wiggled his finger a bit until the fingertip slipped inside, just to his first knuckle.

Jimin frowned. It was odd, and not arousing at all. Was he supposed to enjoy this? But Taehyung had said it was even better than simply stroking his cock. Jimin pushed his finger in a little deeper, grimacing at the slight burn. It wasn’t pleasant at all. Disappointed, he removed his finger and began to stroke himself instead. The oil made the slide smoother and more enjoyable. He sighed, leaning back. He reached lower and began to play with his testicles. He imagined Yoongi’s hand squeezing and massaging them the way he often did.

Jimin breathed a little heavier, and felt his cock harden slightly. His hole clenched. He’d never noticed that before.

He decided to try again. His finger slipped in to the second knuckle more easily, and soon to the last knuckle. As he continued to play with his cock with his other hand, he began to feel more affected. However, the angle was very uncomfortable. Jimin’s arms weren’t very long, and his shoulder hurt slightly as he strained. He tried shifting around, but his finger couldn’t reach very far, and he didn’t find any kind of spot inside that supposedly felt amazing.

Taehyung had said he needed to put multiple fingers inside to stretch himself, but his one finger barely fit. How was he to fit more than one?

He reached for the oil again and dripped a little more onto two of his fingers this time. He grimaced almost immediately when he tried to push the second fingertip in. Eventually, though, it did go in, just a bit. He panted and tried wiggling his fingers to somehow push them both in, but it was so very uncomfortable. He started to feel a little panicked, his vision became watery, and then he saw his erection soften.

“Why—?” he mumbled to himself, frustrated.

When he started cramping up from the odd angle, he pulled his fingers from himself angrily and leaned back with a groan, wiping at his teary eyes with the back of his hand. Maybe he just wasn’t meant to do this, after all.

Jimin hurriedly washed himself down again with some lukewarm water. He returned the oil to the bedroom, quickly setting it on the table beside the bed when he heard the front door opening. Yoongi was home sooner than usual.

“You haven’t eaten yet?” Yoongi asked, sounding surprised when they met in the kitchen.

Jimin shook his head. “No, I only just—” he gestured toward the washroom. “I only just washed up.”

“Oh. Well, let’s eat together, then.”

“Did you not get anything today?” Jimin asked. “You’re back early.” He knew from past conversations that even when Yoongi successfully shot an animal, it didn’t always die immediately. Sometimes he had to track it through the woods until he found where it had fallen, and then bring it back.

Yoongi shook his head. “There weren’t many animals out I could find. Hiding from the cold, I guess. I thought I’d come back and work on something else around here rather than waste a morning.”

Jimin felt strangely grumpy as the day wore on. He didn’t know if it was because he had discovered that penetrating himself was no fun, after all, so he was doomed to never satisfy his husband on top of keeping such a big secret from him…would he spend the rest of his life miserable?

He went out to the stable to work on another project. He wanted to make a footrest of sorts, for in the sitting room. The chairs they had in there weren’t all that comfortable, but perhaps if Jimin could put his feet up when he read, it might be more pleasant.

As he drew plans and measured wood, his mind wandered. It was strange to not have a job anymore. Everyone around here had a job. Well, excluding Becky, but she helped out on the ranch, and she had the children to look after, of course. Jimin, however, had nothing but his new hobby, and the tasks around their home. It wasn’t that he was sitting around twiddling his fingers, but even so, it felt off.

He paused, setting down his tools.

Yoongi only hunted. He didn’t even hunt every day, and they kept a lot of the meat for themselves. He sold the pelts and tanned skins, he sold the antlers and claws, but Jimin didn’t think the money he brought in from that was so significant. How, then, did they live so comfortably compared to some of the other people around town? Had he also inherited a lot of money, then? It couldn’t be that much, though.

Yoongi was in the kitchen preparing a long roast when Jimin stepped inside much later that day.

Jimin poured himself some water to drink, and stood over by the stove to warm up after being outside for so long.

“Yoongi?”

“Hm?”

“Shouldn’t I…get a job, or something?”

Yoongi paused and turned to look at him. “A job? Why?”

“You know, to bring in more income?”

He laughed slightly and turned back to the roast. “It’s not necessary for you to have a job, Jimin. Don’t worry about it.”

“But I don’t understand why.”

“Because we don’t need more money, that’s why.”

Jimin grew frustrated. “But…but you barely sell your pelts and meat. How do we have enough money? How do we have so much money?”

“My father left me some money,” Yoongi said as he sliced a carrot. “We don’t need to worry.”

“But it’ll eventually run out! We can’t just keep spending, and spending, and not…not have any income.”

“We do have income. I sell my—”

“How does that bring in enough money? It doesn’t make any sense!” Jimin exclaimed, slamming down his cup.

“Jimin—”

“No. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

Jimin thought his head was going to explode. He stomped off, back outside. The cold air slapped him in the face, stealing his breath for a moment before he adjusted. Folding his arms over his chest because he hadn’t brought his coat with him, Jimin walked over to the pasture fence. His footsteps crunched upon the ground. He heaved out a big sigh and leaned against the frosty wood, staring out at the pale landscape before him. It was quiet outside, the birds already gone to sleep.

Jimin shivered as he watched the sun dipping down beyond the mountains. There weren’t many clouds in the sky. Just thin, wispy ones that turned pink and orange before fading to a rose violet. In the eastern sky, stars were already starting to come out. As the sky darkened and the stars brightened, spreading across the vast sky, Jimin felt so small and insignificant. Useless. Always so useless.

Behind him, he heard the front door of the house open and shut. The quiet crunch of Yoongi’s boots approached him, becoming muffled as he reached the grass that still poked through the tiny layer of snow.

Jimin startled as a warm wool blanket was draped around his shoulders.

“You’ll catch a cold,” Yoongi said quietly.

Jimin didn’t answer, but he tugged the blanket closer around his shoulders.

Above them, the Milky Way became more and more visible. It looked like a river of sparkling silver and gold overhead. Out here, where there were no buildings in the way and no city lights or factory smoke to block the sky, the Milky Way was a spectacular and brilliant sight.

“Jimin.” Yoongi stood beside him, looking at him while Jimin gazed across the big sky. “Something’s bothering you.”

“I just—” he cut himself off.

“When I say you don’t need to worry about money, it’s because I want you to live freely,” Yoongi explained calmly. “You’ve worked hard enough, and suffered enough. Now, you can do what you wish. Spend time enjoyably. Right now, we have enough money. But if a time comes in the future when we need more, then I will work harder.”

“I don’t want you to do all the work,” Jimin protested. “I can help.”

Yoongi wrapped his arms around Jimin and turned him to face him. “I don’t mind. I like being able to take care of my husband.”

Jimin shivered and buried his face into Yoongi’s neck. Yoongi’s skin was warm, and he couldn’t help himself when he pressed closer.

Yoongi, however, leaned his face back and used one hand to tilt Jimin’s chin up to press their lips together, licking into his mouth. Jimin melted into the kiss.

“Hm,” Yoongi murmured as he pulled back for a moment, the clouds from their breath puffing up between and around their faces. “You seem a little…different tonight. More frustrated than usual.” He captured Jimin’s lips again, tasting him carefully. “Does it have anything to do with the bottle of oil you moved in the bedroom?”

Jimin’s eyes popped open wide, and he just barely stopped himself from inhaling audibly, although he was sure Yoongi could feel the sharp intake of breath against his lips.

“Wh-what?”

“Don’t play dumb,” he said in a dangerously low, teasing tone that made Jimin’s insides instantly twist in a strange way. “That bottle has always been on the floor beside the bed. But now it’s on the table next to the lantern. I didn’t put it there.”

There was no getting around it. Yoongi would find out sooner or later, wouldn’t he?

“I—I…tried to…tried to—I wanted to try to o-open myself,” he ended on the tiniest of whispers.

Yoongi’s hands, which had drifted down to his waist at some point, tightened into a firm grip.

“You…tried to open…yourself?” he asked. His voice became a little rough.

Jimin nodded. “But I don’t think I can do it, Yoongi,” he confessed in a rush of air. “It didn’t feel good at all. And I just couldn’t…I didn’t feel anything. Isn’t it supposed to feel good?”

Yoong let out a shaky breath of air after a short moment. His hands shifted, moving a little higher to the smallest part of Jimin’s waist. His thumbs rubbed at his skin through the material of his shirt.

“It is supposed to feel good,” Yoongi spoke. “Maybe you need help.”

“Help?”

Yoongi took in a deep breath that expanded his chest, and then he slowly let it go. “Jimin. Would you allow me to help you? I can open you up. I’ll be gentle, and I promise it will feel good.”

Jimin thought about it. Yoongi’s fingers were longer than his, so maybe they could find that spot inside him. Maybe he knew where to look for it. And he wouldn’t have to cramp up from the awkward angle. But the idea of Yoongi’s fingers entering him in that way, it—Jimin felt himself clench without warning, a tingle of something sharp and—exciting? frightening?—sparked inside him.

“Okay,” he agreed softly.

“Fuck.”

It came out as nearly a groan, a burst of air right before Yoongi kissed him again. He pushed him back against the fence for a moment, the blanket slipping off of Jimin’s shoulders to expose him once again to the chilly November air. Jimin found he didn’t mind, though. He loved the way Yoongi felt so powerful against him, leading the kiss, taking what was his, making Jimin feel small. They kissed for a long moment before a shiver overtook Jimin from the cold. Yoongi broke the kiss.

“Inside. Let’s get inside.”

Once inside, the smell of the roast filled Jimin’s nostrils, and they were both reminded of the dinner Yoongi had been preparing most of the afternoon. Yoongi urged Jimin to change out of his cold clothes so he could be warmer, and by the time Jimin returned to the kitchen in thick socks and a sweater over his clothes, Yoongi had set the table and placed a bottle of red wine between two glasses.

“Wine?” Jimin asked as he took his seat.

“I thought it might help you relax later,” he smiled gently. “And it’ll go well with the roast.”

Jimin watched as he poured some into each of their glasses, and then sliced the roast, placing several pieces onto Jimin’s plate. Jimin served himself from the vegetables and waited for Yoongi to sit before taking a sip of the wine. They didn’t drink wine too often, but they had it as a nice treat once in a while.

He took a bite of the roast, humming. It was buttery soft, and the herbs and spices Yoongi had used to cook it were flavorful in a way Jimin just never seemed to achieve.

“Good?”

“It’s delicious,” Jimin confirmed. “Thank you.”

“You’re not the only one who gets to enjoy it,” Yoongi grinned, taking a much larger bite and washing it down with a gulp of wine afterward. He picked up a knife to cut into the bread at the center of the table, releasing steam into the air. He buttered a slice and handed it to Jimin before doing the same for himself.

They leisurely enjoyed their dinner, finishing off the bottle of wine. Jimin felt warm and far more relaxed than he had been before dinner; that was certain.

They went about their usual evening routines, with Yoongi checking on the horses one last time before returning to the house. Jimin washed his face and changed into a longer nightshirt, wanting to be covered, but knowing that it would be silly to put on undergarments that would just be removed shortly. He glanced at the glass bottle sitting so innocently on the bedside table, and then climbed onto his side of the bed to wait.

When Yoongi entered the bedroom, he was rosy-nosed and fluffy-haired. He was carrying a bowl of steaming water and a clean cotton cloth which he set upon the bedside table.

“It’s turned windy out there,” he said as he gave an exaggerated shiver and began to remove his clothing. “I think tomorrow’s gonna be even colder.” He seemed to hesitate before pulling down his long johns until he was fully naked.

He turned the lantern down slightly and then sat down on the bed. Nervously, Jimin brought his knees up and spread his legs, and was surprised when Yoongi chuckled and pushed them back together. He leaned over Jimin.

“No, no; not like that,” he murmured before kissing Jimin carefully. Jimin startled at the touch of very cold fingers upon his skin. “We’re going to do this the right way. Now just relax and enjoy everything.”

Jimin let his legs slide back down on the bed and turned to kiss Yoongi back, reaching up to wrap his arms around his shoulders.

“Are you not cold?” he asked in between kisses. “Your fingers are like ice.”

Yoongi snorted. “’Course I am. But I’ll be warm soon enough.”

His hands wandered across Jimin as he continued to kiss him, slowly warming up. He gradually moved to kiss and nibble at Jimin’s throat as he seemed to like doing. Jimin couldn’t complain; he enjoyed it as well.

Slowly, his hands made their way down Jimin’s chest and stomach, tugging at the nightshirt a few times until the hem rose up over Jimin’s knees, up his thighs, paused around his hips, and then finally was pushed up completely over Jimin’s head to fall in a bundle on the pillow. The air was cool upon his skin, but everywhere Yoongi touched it was hot.

Yoongi first stroked Jimin’s cock until he was beginning to harden. He slid his hands over Jimin’s thighs, lifting and spreading them apart without Jimin really noticing until they were already up and he was on display.

There was a quiet clink of glass as Yoongi uncapped the bottle. Jimin watched as his husband dripped several drops onto his palm, recapped the bottle, and then rubbed his hands together until his fingers were fully coated and glistening with oil.

Jimin flinched at the first touch of his rim. It was warm, and slick, but his body tensed.

Yoongi didn’t say anything at first, just gently stroking him in a circle, sometimes stroking over his tightly shut hole. He didn’t apply any pressure. He only touched him.

As the touch became more expected and less scary, Jimin relaxed. He shifted his shoulders, sighing silently. He looked up at Yoongi’s face, at the expression of concentration. Oh, he was so handsome.

Jimin reached up to touch Yoongi’s jaw. Immediately he turned to him, seemed to know what he wanted, and leaned down to connect their mouths. As they kissed, Yoongi’s finger didn’t stop stroking him. Until Yoongi’s tongue was exploring his mouth and suddenly Jimin felt a bit of pressure against his rim.

He tensed.

“It’s okay,” Yoongi soothed. “Try to relax.”

Jimin licked his lips. “I’m scared,” he admitted.

Yoongi nodded. “I know. And that’s okay. We can stop, if you like.” His finger continued stroking and gently applying pressure, as if he was massaging Jimin down there.

“No,” Jimin shook his head. “I want to do this.”

“Can you take a deep breath for me? And then slowly let it out.”

Jimin did as instructed, very much aware of the way Yoongi’s slippery finger was now applying more pressure. As he expelled a breath, Yoongi’s finger suddenly dipped inside. Jimin clenched tightly around the intrusion, grabbing Yoongi’s other hand and squeezing.

“Perfect,” Yoongi whispered, though. “You’re doing perfectly, Jimin. Now just relax again.”

Jimin gasped as his finger pushed in deeper. He could feel a bit of stretch, but Yoongi was going slowly, so it didn’t hurt. It felt strange. Not like his own finger had, though. With his own finger, there was no element of surprise. But with Yoongi’s finger, he didn’t know when he would move it, he didn’t know whether he would move it, and his lower belly twitched when his gaze skimmed over Yoongi’s form. Hovering over him, naked, his penis thickening and beginning to stand up.

When Yoongi’s entire finger had disappeared inside Jimin, he paused and used his thumb to stroke Jimin’s testicles. Jimin was startled when he felt himself loosen around the finger—and then Yoongi bent it inside him. It tickled in a way that was not funny but instead sent a weird sensation through his body.

“Oh—” Jimin grabbed onto Yoongi’s arm with both hands. “Yoongi—”

“Tell me if anything hurts. Is this okay?”

“Y-yes.” Jimin tried to control his breathing again, watching the way his belly quivered and sucked in and out.

He was not expecting it at all when the finger inside him suddenly shifted and brushed across part of his insides that ignited a hot spark, causing him to arch up without any warning.

“Ah!—Mmph—!” His body settled back down, but the finger pressed against that spot again, and Jimin whined and startled again, turning his face to press it against Yoongi’s arm.

“Is that it?” Yoongi asked softly. “Does that feel good, Jimin?”

Jimin struggled, but nodded against him. It felt more than good. It felt—it felt almost dangerous, like a button inside him that triggered indescribable pleasure. He could feel heat pooling faster in his groin, his cock starting to throb with that heat.

“Is it good?” Yoongi asked again when Jimin didn’t answer vocally.

“Y-yes. ‘S good. Guh—oh.” He heaved out several breaths when Yoongi’s finger began to slowly stroke him right there, delicately, carefully. But there. Again and again. In circles. Up and down. Softly and then more firmly.

Jimin lay there, body quivering and jolting as Yoongi used his one finger to massage that special spot inside him. He had no idea for how long. His head felt floaty after a while; the pleasure was so immense that Jimin thought he might possibly go insane from it.

When Yoongi’s finger stilled inside him and then abruptly disappeared, Jimin shocked himself with the loud whine he let out.

“No, why are you—no, please—”

Yoongi’s shoulders shook with his laughter. There was another clink of glass on glass. He shifted lower on the bed, and then Jimin felt two fingertips touch his rim, coated with oil. He didn’t tense this time, though; his body allowed the first finger to slide right back in, knuckle after knuckle, and then Yoongi began to tentatively press his second finger in alongside.

Jimin’s brow furrowed, feeling that same stretch as before that he hadn’t liked. This time, however, Yoongi’s first finger wiggled around and brushed against that glorious spot again, and Jimin couldn’t help the moan that spilled from his throat as Yoongi’s second finger pushed in farther. Until both were in fully.

“Oh god,” Jimin moaned, eyes opening. He stared at the ceiling in a daze, not realizing that his hands were now fisting themselves in the blankets. When Yoongi’s mouth unexpectedly touched down upon his belly, tongue flicking out to lick him, Jimin cried out and arched up. The movement jerked Yoongi’s fingers inside him, pressing hard against that spot briefly.

“Fuck, oh—Yoongi,” Jimin panted, forgetting himself completely and letting language spill from his mouth that he never used in regular speech. Suddenly he realized he was craving something. He needed something. “Yoongi, please. More.”

He felt Yoongi smile against his stomach where he was now kissing and sucking at the skin. His fingers turned inside Jimin and began to spread apart. They moved in, and out, turning this way and that as they pushed at his walls and stroked him. Stretching him.

He didn’t even realize that he was moving against the fingers inside him. Rolling his hips, trying to create more friction, more pressure. Yoongi shifted again, raising himself up over Jimin as his fingers stopped the stretching movements and instead returned to focusing on that bundle of nerves. Rubbing insistently and purposefully.

Jimin’s orgasm hit him like nothing before. He let out a sharp cry, arching up and locking up, clenching hard around the fingers in him as his untouched cock shot splashes of cum across his front. The fingers stilled for a moment, before tentatively brushing against that spot again. Jimin made a strange sound. Shrill, ragged, absolutely not a sound he would ever want to vocalize in front of anyone but his husband.

“Fuck!” And then he choked out a half-sob as he tried and failed to catch his breath. The aftershock of sheer oversensitivity that coursed through him was also unexpected. He whimpered and blindly reached for Yoongi’s wrist. He pushed at it to make him remove his fingers.

Without even really thinking about it, he wrapped his own hand around Yoongi’s erection and began to pump him. He felt almost frantic, wanting to help his husband come quickly. Yoongi’s hand wrapped around his and helped him even as he also leaned down to kiss him, groaning into his mouth with that tone that always made Jimin’s belly curl.

Jimin jolted at the first splash of Yoongi’s release, moaning into Yoongi’s mouth as he finished coming on him. When at last they pulled apart, Jimin stared up into Yoongi’s eyes.

“How are you feeling?” Yoongi asked him.

Jimin didn’t even have it in him to blush as he looked up at him. “Good.” He took a deep breath. “Is it always like that?”

“Hm. Well, I only used two fingers this time.”

Only.

“If…you intend to penetrate me properly, is that what you need to do? Use three fingers?”

Yoongi tilted his head. “At least three.”

“At least?” Jimin choked.

“Well, I could use just three. But four will make you looser and more comfortable, I think. When I eventually enter you. I don’t want to hurt you. Especially your first time.”

“Oh.” Jimin was having trouble wrapping his mind around that image.

“But let’s not worry about that right now.” Yoongi kissed him lightly on the forehead. “You did so well, Jimin. I’m proud of you.” He settled down to the side, not immediately moving to clean Jimin. They both stared at the mess on Jimin’s belly.

It was starting to become a common sight in the bedroom. Most often it was Jimin who ended up with both of their releases spread across his stomach and chest. Observing it now as his mind cleared, he realized something humiliating. He liked the sight. He liked seeing both his and Yoongi’s semen mixed in puddles and splashes across his skin. In fact, he was struck by the outrageous thought that he wanted to touch the mess with his bare fingers.

He didn’t; that would be ridiculous, and dirty. But his stomach quivered and his cock twitched in interest as the thoughts crossed his mind. Jimin quickly turned his head to face Yoongi, shifting a little closer on the pillow.

“I liked it,” he whispered. “Thank you for being so gentle with me.”

Yoongi reached out to brush some of Jimin’s hair aside where it was falling over his forehead. “It was my pleasure.” He snorted quietly as they both realized the double entendre of his words. “Anyway, let’s get you cleaned up.” He pushed himself upright and stood up, picking up the cloth and dipping it into the bowl a few times before wringing it out slightly.

Jimin was surprised that the water was still warm. He watched as Yoongi cleaned his stomach, rinsing out the cloth and then reaching down between Jimin’s legs to clean his slick hole. He was a little sensitive, but Yoongi wasn’t doing anything indecent; he was simply cleaning the oil away.

Jimin’s thoughts returned to Yoongi’s words, though; speaking of Yoongi’s pleasure. As Yoongi set the cloth aside in the bowl and returned to the bed, Jimin frowned.

“Yoongi,” he said carefully, reaching up to absently touch his husband’s bare chest and trace the outer circle of his nipple, “I want you to feel good, too, but I—” he hesitated only a moment, watching the way Yoongi’s nipple hardened so alluringly, and the way Yoongi’s hand came up to wrap loosely around his wrist. “I don’t think I could do that to you.”

“Hm? Do what to me?” Yoongi’s voice was so calm, so soothing and deep.

Jimin stroked his finger delicately over the dark brown skin, curving his fingernail back and forth under Yoongi’s nipple absently. His eyes flickered up to Yoongi’s briefly before lowering again, feeling embarrassment fill him. “I don’t know how you can even do it—I don’t want to go anywhere near your…your hole,” he ended on a whisper.

He was startled by Yoongi’s sudden laugh. It was loud in the quiet of the room.

“That’s fine,” Yoongi continued chuckling. “I’m not especially interested in experiencing it myself. I offered on our wedding night to be fair,” he caught Jimin’s hand and held it as he leaned down closer to Jimin’s face, “but truthfully I prefer to be the one penetrating.”

“Oh.”

“I have done it before when I was much younger, and I would do it, if you hated the idea of being penetrated.” He was caging Jimin in, face so close to his. Jimin felt trapped and cornered in a strangely wonderful way. “But I much prefer to be the one entering my lover.” He leaned down toward Jimin’s ear. “I’m glad that you enjoyed my fingers, sweetheart. I think you will enjoy my cock inside you even more, when you are ready for it,” he murmured so very quietly, lips brushing against Jimin’s earlobe in a way that sent shivers down his spine.

No one had ever spoken like that to Jimin before. It made him feel wanted in a very different way.

“Yoongi,” he murmured. He reached up to turn Yoongi’s face so he could press their mouths together. He couldn’t help whimpering into the kiss, pulling Yoongi close until he was nearly lying on top of him. They continued kissing until Jimin’s post-orgasm exhaustion overtook him and he gradually drifted to sleep, unconsciously searching for Yoongi’s touch even as his mind settled to sleep.

 

*

 

Yoongi blinked awake the next morning, and as usual, carefully untangled himself from Jimin’s arms and legs. His husband had a tendency to cling to him in sleep. Before leaving the bed, he took a moment to observe Jimin sleeping.

Without Yoongi to cling to, Jimin had pulled the blankets closer to his chest and was curled up underneath them. His lips pouted, cheeks a little rosy from the warmth of being pressed so closely against Yoongi until just a moment ago.

Yoongi hadn’t been expecting last night to happen, but he certainly was not complaining about it. Intimacy with Jimin had been moving slowly; it was clear that Jimin was extremely inexperienced when it came to sex with men. Part of Yoongi wondered if he was actually a virgin and was just pretending he had been with women before, but it didn’t really matter one way or the other. Yoongi had no intention of pushing Jimin if he wasn’t ready. As much as he would love to have proper sex with his own husband, Yoongi had learned a lot of patience in the last few years. He could wait.

Yoongi stood up and stretched his muscles, sighing at the morning wood he had once again. He walked naked to the washroom, where he quickly and mindlessly took care of it and relieved himself. He had gotten used to being more aroused than usual since Jimin came to live with him, but with them becoming intimate, Yoongi’s mind now had accurate images of Jimin in the throes of pleasure. He now knew exactly what Jimin looked like lost in an orgasm.

Of all of the lovers Yoongi had had in the past, Jimin was the one that made Yoongi feel the most sinful. Yoongi had let his curiosity move his fingers last night, testing to see how Jimin reacted to just a little more stimulation after coming. He hadn’t been disappointed. But of course, he had pulled back when Jimin protested. Maybe Jimin would begin to enjoy it if he grew more comfortable with their intimacy.

The anticipation, something Yoongi had never really experienced with past lovers, was a new kind of excitement.

It was bitterly cold outside. The wind was still strong, and the temperature had dropped considerably overnight. Yoongi needed to go into town, but he would wait to see if it would warm up a little later.

He went into the stable to feed Chief and Sunny. Their winter coats were growing in nicely, and he spent a bit of time brushing each of them before heading back to the house. Yoongi knew Jimin enjoyed brushing the horses and just the other day had spent quite a long time just petting them and talking to them. He seemed to really like their thicker coats.

“We’ll go out later,” Yoongi told the horses. “I don’t think you’ll like the cold right now.” He put some more fresh hay into each of their stalls and then braced himself for the blustery wind on the way back.

Jimin was just waking up when he stepped inside. As usual, he looked soft and young in the morning, with his puffy face and sleepy eyes. He froze when he caught sight of Yoongi, and then abruptly looked away, suddenly shy.

“What’s this?” Yoongi asked, stepping over to him. “We’re not going back to being shy, are we?” He caught Jimin around the waist and pulled him close, back to front.

Jimin gasped sharply. “You’re cold!”

Yoongi grinned as he pulled Jimin closer to him, purposely slipping his cold fingers underneath his husband’s shirt to hold his waist as he leaned down to nuzzle against his neck.

“Oh,” Jimin sank back against him, his hands going loose where they had been about to tug at Yoongi’s wrists.

When Yoongi was done, he brushed his lips against Jimin’s temple. “Don’t be shy, darling.”

Jimin shivered in his hold, breath becoming audible for a moment. Yoongi raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Oh, how he couldn’t wait to unravel all of Jimin’s little weaknesses and spoil him like he deserved.

“I’m not…not being shy,” Jimin protested. “I just…last night…” he flailed his hand a little helplessly as he searched for words. “I don’t know. I guess I feel kind of embarrassed, now.”

“Why? Did you enjoy yourself?”

Jimin nodded hesitantly.

“Do you hurt at all?”

He shook his head, this time.

“Do you want to do it again—not now, of course, but at some point?”

Jimin bit his lip and nodded again, looking horribly reluctant to be admitting it.

“Good. Because I would love to do that with you again, as well.” Yoongi paused for a second before looking meaningfully at him. “As many times or as often as you like.”

Jimin’s eyes widened. “Yoongi!” He pushed Yoongi away, slapping him on the chest in a way that didn’t hurt one bit.

Yoongi smirked. Success. Winding him up and getting a rise out of Jimin was often nearly as fun as helping him reach pleasure.

As they ate breakfast together, Yoongi told Jimin about his plan to head into town, and invited him along.

“Oh, I was thinking of going to the Jungs’ today,” Jimin said, looking a little crestfallen. “I was going to ask Hoseok if he could show me any wood carving techniques. I thought it’d be nice if we could have a few pretty pieces of woodwork like they have in their home.”

“It’s quite cold out there. I’m taking both the horses to pull the wagon, and I’d rather you didn’t walk all that way in the cold. I can drop you off on my way, and pick you up on my way back,” Yoongi offered.

“Oh, that would be perfect. Thank you.”

They left around midday, and Yoongi waited until Jimin disappeared into the Jungs’ house with a wave before he pulled the wagon around and headed back to the road.

 

It was much later as Yoongi stopped by the saloon for a warm drink before going home when he spotted Jungkook. The younger man was sitting at a table with several other men, gambling. Yoongi heaved a sigh and raised his eyebrows at him when Jungkook looked up and spotted him. Jungkook’s expression brightened, and not two minutes later he was weaving his way through the tables to plant himself at Yoongi’s table in the corner, holding his own drink of something amber-colored with only a bit of foam left around the wall of the glass.

“Why are you still here?” Yoongi asked him immediately.

“Not still,” Jungkook corrected him. “Back. I left, but I’m back.”

“Already, then. Why are you back here already?”

Jungkook shrugged. “I like it here. Do I need another reason?”

They were silent for a moment before Jungkook did that thing he usually did when he remembered something. His back straightened as he sat up more, eyes widening and showing his youth. Then he narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, lowering his voice.

“Your husband is seeing someone behind your back,” he hissed with disgust evident in his voice.

Yoongi wasn’t expecting that at all. He raised both eyebrows with a surprised scoff. “Excuse me?”

Jungkook wasn’t deterred. “I saw him. He’s fucking another man.”

Now fully confident this was untrue, Yoongi sat back and folded his arms across his chest. “Oh, really? And who might this man be? Who do I need to shoot?”

There was a split second of hesitation in Jungkook’s expression that Yoongi didn’t miss. But then he continued. “Him.” He nudged his thumb in the direction of the bar, where Taehyung was sitting and chatting animatedly with one of the other patrons.

“Ah, yes. Jimin’s friend Taehyung.”

“They’re clearly too close to be just friends,” Jungkook insisted. “Jimin was in his bedroom.”

“How would you know that? Did you see it?”

“I saw them coming down from upstairs.” He paused for a second, and Yoongi could almost see the cogs working inside his head as he decided what to say next. “I know they were in his bedroom because I’m…intimately acquainted with Taehyung’s bedroom, now.” He smirked slightly.

Yoongi went still. “What do you mean?”

“I mean exactly what you think that means, Yoongi.”

“But—” Yoongi was at a loss for words for a second. “You don’t even like men. You like women. A bit too much, if you ask me.”

Jungkook shrugged, unbothered. “Well, Taehyung was too pretty to resist. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try out a pretty man. It’s not that much different than fucking a cunt. A bit tighter of a squeeze. But he was very willing. He’s the one who approached me, first. I bet he’s fucking dozens of other men besides your husband.”

“He’s not fucking Jimin,” Yoongi rolled his eyes. Last night was evidence against that, anyway. If Jimin and Taehyung were having sex, Jimin would have to be an extremely skilled actor, and Yoongi highly doubted that.

Jungkook hummed, clearly not believing him. He took a long swallow of his drink. “Anyway, I now understand what you like so much about fucking other men. Women are nice to touch, and they make nice noises, but they’re too delicate and you can’t go too rough on them.” He shook his head and sighed through his nose. “Taehyung was something else.”

Yoongi felt anger rise. “You better not hurt Taehyung. I know he likes playing around, but I swear, if you hurt him, I’ll cut your dick off.”

Jungkook snorted. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

 

*

 

 

Notes:

Just a side note on Jungkook's sudden willingness to have sex with a man without worrying about sexuality--apparently in the 'old wild west' it was actually common for men to have sex with each other when there were no women around. I accidentally ran across this information while doing other research for this story, and happily storied that information for later. ;)

Chapter 6: Chapter VI

Notes:

Sorry for the slightly longer wait! You're in for a ride this chapter!

Enjoy!

 

 

Chapter VI

 

“I’m not the best at it, but I can at least show you how to get started and not cut your fingers off,” Hoseok said as he led Jimin out to his workshop. It was messier than Jimin’s, mostly because there were multiple projects in varying stages of progress. There was a dining chair with a broken leg leaning against a wall, some tools that needed fixing, wagon parts, and more.

Hoseok showed Jimin the back of the broken chair, and how it had a basic relief carving of some flowers and leaves. Jimin ran his fingers over the relief, feeling the grooves and curves with fascination. Yoongi really didn’t have much in the way of decorative accents, and it didn’t appear that the house itself did, either. Jimin wondered if Yoongi’s father, too, had been a simple man without much interest in design.

They spent nearly two hours out in the workshop as Jimin tried out different ways to carve wood using scrap pieces, as well as learned how to turn wood, even though Jimin hadn’t seen a lathe for turning wood in the stable back home. He helped Hoseok to make a new chair leg and make it look almost as good as new.

Jimin particularly enjoyed drawing out the designs for carving. He hoped that as he became more skilled, he could even create more beautiful reliefs, such as an illustration of a scene, rather than just a few flowers here and there. Maybe even animals. He imagined making beautiful cabinet doors, perhaps a sideboard, lovely sitting room furniture…maybe even a headboard for his and Yoongi’s bed. Hoseok showed Jimin his rudimentary toys he was carving to give to the children for Christmas. He hid them away under some burlap before they left the workshop.

It was snowing when they stepped outside. Jimin was surprised by what was probably already an inch of snow on the ground. Jimin and Hoseok hurried up the hill to the house, stomping the snow from their boots as they came up on the porch.

“Becky!” Hoseok called into the house as they shut the door behind them. She came out of the kitchen, Marie on her heels. Hoseok bent down to give his daughter a kiss before looking up at Becky. “It’s started snowing. I’m going to go get the boys from the schoolhouse.”

Jimin glanced out the window. “Should we be worried?” Yoongi was probably not even on his way back from town yet.

“Oh, it’s probably nothing,” Becky said. “But it might take longer to get the wagon through the snow, so it’s best he leave earlier than usual. That’s all.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Mama, can I play outside?” Marie asked, standing on her tippy toes to look out through the window. “Please, please, please?”

Becky heaved a sigh, but after a moment nodded. “Only for a little bit, though.”

Marie squealed in delight and followed Becky to their coat closet.

“Marie Jung, you hold still! I won’t have you freezing out there. If you want to play in the snow, you have to be bundled up!” Becky’s voice was sharp as she reprimanded her daughter for squirming. As she finished fixing Marie’s hat and tucking her scarf into the collar of her coat so that it wouldn’t come loose, Becky stepped back to survey her work.

Marie looked like a little round puff ball with all of the layers she had on.

“Now, you stay close to the house, you hear me?” Becky said sternly. “And when I come out to get you, you’re going to come back in. No complaining.”

“Yes, Mama,” Marie said impatiently, bouncing on the balls of her feet to go outside as soon as possible.

Jimin’s eye caught on their bookshelf, and stepped over to browse the books when Becky opened the door.

Becky’s firm tone turned curious and light as she spoke to Jimin once Marie was outside. “Jimin, has anything changed recently, between you and Yoongi?”

Jimin frowned where he stood in front of the Jungs’ sitting room bookshelf, turning a page in the book he was perusing. It was about woodcarving and embellishments. “Why do you ask?”

“You’ve been different lately,” Becky pointed out casually. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Different?” Jimin asked. He looked up from the book.

“In a good way,” she assured him quickly. “Different in a good way.”

“Oh.” Jimin couldn’t help but think about his newfound knowledge about himself, about his new intimacy with Yoongi. He felt heat creep up his neck, and he stared hard at a sentence in the book he was holding to keep from blushing. Those kinds of things weren’t visible to others, were they?

He could hear Becky approach him, and then her hand settled onto his shoulder. “Are you happy here, with Yoongi?”

Jimin looked up, and then down at her to meet her gaze. He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he nodded, as if it was a solemn statement to admit to. “I think I am.”

She smiled. “That’s good to hear. Especially…with winter starting,” she waved her hand toward the window, “you’re going to be stuck with him for long periods of time. It’s good that you’re happy with him.” She shook her head and laughed. “The children can sometimes make me feel like I’m in a madhouse, but at least we have more than one room in this house! I grew up in a one-room house. No privacy, no quiet.”

They moved toward the window to keep an eye on Marie as she ran around and tried building small snowmen with the bit of snow on the ground.

“Of course, Christmas is a nice reprieve from the drag of winter,” Becky spoke up. “It can be a lot of work, but the children get so excited about Santa Claus visiting,” she chuckled.

Jimin hadn’t been thinking about Christmas yet. It seemed so far away still.

“You and Yoongi should join us for Christmas supper,” Becky said, then. “I don’t think Yoongi really does much at all, but you both are more than welcome to join us.”

“Yoongi doesn’t celebrate it?” Jimin could feel a little disappointment. He had always loved Christmas. With the lovely decorations, the delicious food, the joyous atmosphere…well, except for last year, of course. Last year, Jimin hadn’t done much at all for Christmas. It hadn’t been long after his mother and father had passed away. He’d been all alone, and he couldn’t afford to spend money on special holiday food. He hadn’t had the energy to decorate, either.

Jimin tried to ignore those thoughts, pushing them back into the recesses of his mind. It was no use getting sad over what was past.

“Well, you know Yoongi,” Becky laughed, drawing Jimin’s attention back to the present. “That man doesn’t do anything exciting. Always avoiding the liveliest days in town, lives the simplest life I know, and it’s thanks to you that there’s finally some spark in his eyes! And anyway, I admit that man can cook, but he certainly can’t bake like I can!”

Jimin smiled. “That would be lovely, thank you, Becky. I’ll be sure to pass your invitation on to Yoongi.”

Jimin made himself comfortable in one of their sitting room chairs in front of the fire and spent the next hour reading to take his mind off of their conversation. When Marie came in, covered in snow and with rosy cheeks, he paused to help shake out her little coat and hang up everything on the drying rack Becky set up near the hearth.

As the minutes ticked along, Jimin grew restless, looking out the windows for any sign of horses on the road. It was nothing but white outside. When Becky handed him a mug of hot tea, he took it without much thought, anxiety pooling in his chest.

There were several inches of snow on the ground when the outline of two wagons slowly making their way up toward the house became visible outside. Jimin gasped, setting down his partially consumed tea, and hurried to grab his coat.

“Becky, they’re back! Yoongi, too!” he called out just before he threw open the door.

It was bitterly cold outside, now, and the snow peppered his face with its icy flakes. Hoseok was helping Alex from the wagon when Jimin reached them. Jimin realized that both boys were wearing overly large coats; Hoseok and Yoongi had both taken off their coats and given them to the boys to keep them warm.

“Luckily crossed paths with Yoongi along the way,” Hoseok grunted as he lifted Frankie from the wagon, as well. “Yoongi!” he called out. “Bring the horses to the barn!”

“We should get home before it gets too bad,” Yoongi protested.

“Let them warm up and rest just a bit,” Hoseok argued.

“Come on,” Jimin urged, grabbing both of the twins’ tiny hands, only glancing at Yoongi briefly as he pulled the boys toward the house. Becky was at the door, waiting for them, and as soon as she brought them inside, Jimin turned back.

“Jimin!” Yoongi exclaimed when he entered the barn. “You should have stayed inside. We’ll be up in a bit.”

“No,” Jimin frowned, pushing forward and taking Yoongi’s cold hands off of Chief’s harness. “You go inside! I’ll do this. Go warm up before you catch cold.”

Yoongi hesitated, clearly not wanting to go, but when Jimin shoved him in the chest, saying again, “Go!” he nodded and rubbed his hands together before heading back outside toward the house. Together, Jimin and Hoseok unhitched the horses and put them into stalls with plenty of hay. Jimin brushed off the snow from their coats and manes, and only once they seemed to be contentedly settled did he follow Hoseok back out into the wind and snow, trudging up toward the house.

Inside, it was bustling with activity. The boys were wrapped up in blankets with hot milk in their hands as they chattered excitedly about their adventure through the snow. When Jimin saw that Yoongi wasn’t doing anything to warm himself up, and was instead just helping Becky hang up dripping clothing, he went over to him angrily.

“What are you doing? Go sit by the fire,” Jimin snapped.

Yoongi looked startled. “I will, I will. I’m just helping Becky—”

“You’ll get sick,” Jimin interrupted, pushing him in the chest.

“I won’t get sick from a bit of cold,” Yoongi laughed. “I’m a bit tougher than that.”

“No, you—” Jimin gasped sharply when Yoongi caught him with both hands on his cheeks, holding him firmly and leaning down until they were eye level.

“I promise I’ll warm myself in a moment,” he said calmly. “Thank you for worrying about your husband,” he smiled. Jimin wasn’t expecting him to kiss him, nor was he expecting the kiss to be so soft. He forgot his surroundings for a moment as he let himself fall into the kiss, feeling his anxiety ease a little.

“My, my, my,” Hoseok’s voice interrupted the calm, his laughter punctuating his words. “Mind the children’s eyes, gentlemen.”

Jimin pulled back in embarrassment, but didn’t get very far with Yoongi’s hands on his face. His husband smirked and then kissed him briefly one more time before letting go. In the background, Marie giggled at them.

Jimin and Yoongi stayed for just a half-hour more before Yoongi insisted they needed to get home or the journey would be even more difficult.

Jimin sat huddled beside Yoongi as they rode home. They wrapped the extra blanket Yoongi kept in the wagon around themselves, and Jimin did his best to hold it up as Yoongi guided the horses through the snow.

The dim outline of the house and stable appearing through the nothingness was a welcome sight. They worked as quickly as they could to get the horses into their stalls, and then together they made their way back to the house. It was cold and dark inside, of course, but it was quiet, and there was no wind. After brushing the snow off of themselves, they separated to light the lanterns and then the cookstove and fireplace.

Jimin glanced at the clock. It was nearly five already.

“Yoongi?” he called into the other room as he stepped back into the kitchen. His husband looked up from where he was setting the kettle onto the stove. “Yoongi, you should change out of your wet clothes,” Jimin pointed out.

“Trying to get me naked so quickly, are you?” Yoongi raised his eyebrows, but Jimin only pouted at him. “Fine, fine. I’m not an idiot. But you’re going to change, too,” he nodded down at Jimin’s own damp clothing.

They both went into the bedroom to change, and despite his teasing tone, Yoongi didn’t try anything funny. Instead, he just sighed loudly and complained of how tired he was. They made a quick supper of warmed bread and broth, neither one having the energy or interest to do much more than that. As the wind howled outside, they settled into the chairs before the fire in the sitting room. Yoongi opened up the newspaper he’d picked up in town, and Jimin continued to read the book he’d started before which Hoseok had let him borrow.

It was quiet and calm, with just the rustle of pages turning and the gentle crackling of the fire.

Jimin was just setting his book down to build the dying fire back up when he glanced over and saw that Yoongi had fallen asleep in his chair. Jimin smiled slightly and carefully added one more log to the fire before returning to his seat. He didn’t pick up his book, though. Instead, he observed Yoongi for a little while, enthralled. He didn’t often get to see Yoongi asleep like this, despite them sleeping in the same bed every night.

Jimin’s gaze traced over the shape of Yoongi’s cheekbones and jaw, noticing the way the firelight danced across his skin. His face was smooth and serene. Jimin could feel the temptation to go over to him and trace his fingertips over his face, down the bridge of his nose, along his lips. Jimin was used to these thoughts, but it didn’t make it any less overwhelming. He was well-aware by now that he was severely attracted to the man who was his husband. He knew that he now greatly enjoyed his touch, loved having Yoongi’s hands on him, and sometimes even pleasured himself in the mornings to the thought of him when Yoongi was away.

After he felt that he’d stared at his husband long enough, Jimin stood up and stepped over to him. He folded the newspaper and set it aside.

“Yoongi,” he whispered, gently touching his cheek and then giving into the temptation to card his fingers through his messy hair. “Yoongi,” he tried again.

“Hm?” Yoongi groaned slightly, shifting, and then he stretched up as his eyes opened.

“You should just go to bed,” Jimin smiled down at him. “You fell asleep.”

Yoongi rolled his shoulders and sat up straighter, quickly becoming alert as usual. “You’re coming with me?”

“I could. I’m not so tired, but I could always bring my book with me.”

“Or we could do something else.”

Jimin couldn’t help the laugh from bubbling out of him. “That’s not sleeping.”

“No,” Yoongi agreed. “But I sure as hell will sleep better after.”

Jimin swallowed. He could already feel a little bit of heat curling within him. He didn’t agree nor disagree. Instead, he only held out his hand, which Yoongi took as he stood up. They extinguished lanterns and left the already diminishing fire to burn itself out. Yoongi paused in the kitchen to add more wood to the cookstove before they finally retreated to the bedroom.

Yoongi’s arms wrapped around Jimin’s waist, pulling him close to kiss. Jimin sighed into the kiss, opening his mouth and moving his lips against Yoongi’s. His husband’s tongue was hot when it met his, humming appreciatively when Jimin lifted his arms up over Yoongi’s shoulders to pull him closer. They kissed and kissed, licking into each other’s mouths as Yoongi slowly backed Jimin up to the bed. He didn’t push him down onto it, though.

Pulling back, Yoongi helped Jimin begin to remove his clothing piece by piece until he was fully naked. A strange thrill ran through Jimin’s body at the sight of him naked in front of fully-clothed Yoongi. He didn’t fully understand it, but his cock gave a small twitch as Yoongi smiled and took in Jimin’s nudity for a long, charged moment.

“I’ll never get over how beautiful you are,” Yoongi shook his head, hands rising to begin removing his own shirt. Jimin flushed in pleasure and stepped forward to help him undress as well.

Yoongi’s hands were soon on his skin again, lighting little fires in their wakes.

“Jimin,” he mumbled against Jimin’s throat as he licked and sucked marks onto his already tender skin, “can I use my mouth on you?”

“Your mouth?” It took Jimin half a second to realize what Yoongi was implying. “Oh—” he shivered, and his cock gave a very noticeable twitch this time, bumping against Yoongi’s hip.

Yoongi huffed out a laugh. “Is that a yes, then?”

“Y-yes,” Jimin stuttered out. He let himself get pushed down until he was sitting on the edge of the bed, and his breath caught in his throat when Yoongi dropped to his knees. His large, warm hands fit themselves over the lower parts of Jimin’s thighs and slowly moved them apart as he moved closer. Jimin felt so exposed, and when he felt Yoongi’s breath ghost over his skin at his chest, he shivered.

Yoongi kissed his sternum, breathing in deeply and nuzzling his nose against Jimin’s chest. He turned to Jimin’s nipples, tongue working them until they were hard nubs, standing up in the cool air. Jimin’s hands rested upon Yoongi’s shoulders as he began to pant. He bit his lip against a small moan when Yoongi’s teeth clamped down lightly and tugged his nipple a few times. By the time Yoongi released both nipples, they were hot and sore in the best way possible. Jimin stared down at them, fascinated at how swollen they looked. Positively indecently so. Where before he would have tried to fight those inappropriate thoughts, now all they did was excite him even more.

Yoongi slowly made his way down Jimin’s body, kissing and sucking at his skin. His fingers weren’t idle, stroking and squeezing his sides, massaging the tops of his thighs and the skin where his hips met his thighs.

When Yoongi’s mouth finally touched Jimin’s cock, the high whimper that escaped him was unexpected. Jimin had never had a woman put her mouth on him down there. He’d never asked, and no one had ever offered. He certainly wasn’t ignorant to the concept, but experiencing it for himself was something else entirely.

Yoongi’s mouth was hot around Jimin’s cock. He took him all the way in until Jimin was touching the back of his mouth, feeling the pressure of the back of his tongue pushing his head against the roof of his mouth, rubbing him and sucking him gently. Jimin could feel saliva pooling in Yoongi’s mouth, coating his shaft with wetness.

“Mmmh,” Yoongi hummed around Jimin, and the younger man involuntarily bucked his hips. Or rather, his body tried to, but Yoongi was already holding his hips down against the bed with such a firm grip that Jimin couldn’t move them. Instead, his torso arched back, and when Yoongi did it again, Jimin fell backward onto the bed where he lay there, staring unseeingly at the ceiling.

Yoongi bobbed his head enthusiastically, flicking his tongue right into the slit at Jimin’s head. Jimin’s eyes rolled back, and he arched up off the bed with a loud moan.

“Yoongi,” he breathed.

Yoongi’s fingers began massaging Jimin’s inner thighs, lifting his legs one at a time and pushing him farther back onto the bed until his knees were up in the air on either side of his head. Jimin lifted his own head to looked down at him and nearly passed out at the sight of Yoongi’s face buried in his crotch. It was like one of those dirty, sinful drawings he’d stumbled across once in the back of a bookstore in New York City.

Yoongi’s mouth disappeared for only a second, and Jimin heard him spit on something. Before he even had a chance to wonder, his mouth was back and Jimin felt a slippery finger circle his hole.

The whine was sudden and unbidden. Jimin bucked his hips up into Yoongi’s mouth and gasped when a large hand pressed firmly down against his belly in such a dominating way that Jimin shook his head and whimpered. The finger at his hole pushed in, a little rougher than last night because there wasn’t oil on it, but Jimin found he didn’t mind. The combination of Yoongi’s mouth around his cock and his finger sliding into him to stroke so purposefully and yet delicately against that special spot inside was overwhelming.

“Yoongi—oh GOD,” Jimin felt absolutely, completely helpless in his husband’s hands. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t barely move. He panted heavily, feeling that delicate part of his mind bloom and spread like warm fog across water. The feeling was both frightening and welcome. Jimin trusted Yoongi to take care of him like this.

He was so close.

Jimin protested when Yoongi’s finger and mouth both disappeared just seconds before he thought he was going to surge over the edge.

“No,” he exclaimed, the word nearly a sob. “No, please—”

“Oh fuck, look at you,” Yoongi spoke, voice sounding rough. Jimin opened his eyes to see Yoongi kneeling up above him. “Sweetheart, you’re so—”

Jimin wasn’t even thinking when he arched his hips up and reached out one hand to touch Yoongi’s chest.

Yoongi groaned, shaking his head. His cock was fully erect, swollen thick and dark where it hovered in the air above Jimin.

“Dear god, I—” Yoongi cut himself off, heaving a deep breath. “Jimin,” he said, then. His voice was deep and rough; it was the voice he used when Jimin knew him to be horribly aroused. Jimin’s belly swooped with heat as his slightly smaller cock gave a little throb. “Will you let me fuck your thighs?”

It took Jimin a moment to understand. Fuck his thighs? What did that mean? Oh. That was—

“I know you’re not ready to let me inside yet, but I—”

“Okay,” Jimin said, touching one of Yoongi’s hands where it still rested on his hip.

Yoongi paused in surprise. “Okay?” he repeated.

Jimin nodded. “Okay.”

Yoongi used both hands to run his fingers through his hair as he heaved in a deep breath. Jimin could tell he was eager, even though he didn’t show it in the same way Jimin would show his own excitement. The subtle way his pupils contracted, the tenseness in his muscles, and of course the way his thick length visibly throbbed, the vein underneath seeming more prominent than usual.

Jimin didn’t know what to do as Yoongi shuffled back and bent over to pick up the bottle of oil that was still on the table. He watched as Yoongi uncapped it and dripped enough oil onto his palm before setting it aside again. He quickly slicked up his cock, his skin rolling up and down again in that captivating way Jimin had come to love watching.

“How do I—what do I do?” Jimin whispered, a little shamefully.

“Hold your thighs together like this,” Yoongi took both of Jimin’s knees and abruptly locked them together, up in the air. He pushed Jimin’s thighs forward toward his chest. It was the most vulnerable position Jimin had ever been in his entire life. “Just like that, oh, you look so perfect, so beautiful,” he crooned.

Jimin gasped when he felt the head of Yoongi’s cock hit the back of his thighs, slipping along his skin until it found the crevice between his thighs. Yoongi rubbed his length back and forth a bit at first, coming in contact with Jimin’s testicles at one point and making him startle. But then Yoongi’s fingers guided his cock between the tight vice of Jimin’s thighs and pressed forward.

Jimin stared up at his husband’s face, entranced by the way his expressions twitched and shifted. Of course, Jimin had seen Yoongi experiencing pleasure, but this was somehow different. Jimin hadn’t yet orgasmed, and the high he’d felt from being so close to climaxing had calmed somewhat. He was able to observe, intently, the way Yoongi looked as he chased his own pleasure, using Jimin’s thighs as if he was—

Jimin’s eyes widened slightly with the realization that this is what Yoongi would look like above him if he was penetrating Jimin in the way he intended.

Breathing more heavily now, Jimin’s eyes flew over Yoongi’s body, noticing every detail; the way his muscles flexed, the way he grunted and groaned, the way his eyes were so dark and filled with arousal, with pleasure. The strength in his hold on Jimin as he thrust between his thighs. The drag of his foreskin as the tightness of Jimin’s thighs pulled and pushed it with every thrust. The slickness and wetness and heat.

It didn’t feel like much to Jimin, but he was so captured by the sight that he didn’t even think of himself until Yoongi paused and drew back, taking both of Jimin’s legs to push him onto his side. Then, before he knew it, Yoongi’s front was pressed to his back, his thighs were manhandled closed again, and Yoongi’s length resumed plunging between his thighs.

Only, it was different this time. This time, Yoongi was higher up his body as he spooned him, and instead of simply moving between Jimin’s inner thighs, Jimin could feel the way his cock was sliding through the valley between his buttocks, rubbing against the bottom of his testicles, and when Yoongi pushed particularly hard, Jimin could feel him drag against his hole. As Yoongi drew closer to his release, his thrusts became stronger and less controlled. Jimin gasped when he felt Yoongi’s tip catch on his rim, and Yoongi must’ve felt it too, because he swore loudly and snapped his hips harder.

When Yoongi reached around to grasp Jimin’s cock, Jimin looked down and realized he could see the way Yoongi’s cock was visible every time it thrust through his thighs. Yoongi’s hand somehow caught both Jimin’s cock and his own so that he was rubbing and stroking both of them at the same time.

It only took a few more minutes for Jimin to come, clenching around nothing, and moaning when Yoongi came barely a few seconds after him. His cum covered both of their lengths as he chased his pleasure until he finally came to a rest. Their breaths were loud in the sudden silence, but as those, too, calmed, Jimin became aware again of the roaring storm outside.

He listened to it absently for a minute or two until he noticed that Yoongi’s weight upon his body had become heavier.

“Yoongi?” Jimin whispered, suspecting what the dead weight meant. Sure enough, Yoongi didn’t answer. He only breathed evenly against the back of Jimin’s neck.

Jimin fought a fond smile. Yoongi must’ve been truly exhausted. Carefully untangling himself, Jimin slipped off of the bed to get the cloth to wipe them both down and also dab at the bedding. Yoongi only frowned slightly in his sleep when Jimin gently wiped his soft cock clean.

Jimin recalled how wonderful Yoongi’s mouth had felt around his cock. Yoongi was much larger than him. Jimin had fit entirely inside Yoongi’s mouth. He stared at the healthy and soft length in front of him and resisted the temptation of his curiosity about what Yoongi tasted like.

Once the cloth was set aside to be dealt with in the morning, Jimin pulled the covers back and then realized there was nothing he could do about it; he shook Yoongi by the shoulder.

“Come on, you need to get inside the blankets,” he said softly.

Yoongi groaned but woke just enough to shift up the bed and then allow Jimin to throw the blankets over his naked body. Jimin extinguished the lantern and then hurried around to the other side of the bed, slipping under and into the warmth. He pressed his body close to Yoongi’s, breathing in the lingering, musky scent of their sex.

 

In the morning, Yoongi was awake before Jimin, but he was still lying in bed. Jimin flushed when he realized his husband had been watching him sleep.

“Good morning,” Yoongi murmured, his voice hoarse with disuse.

“Good morning.” Jimin let himself be kissed slowly, relishing in the gentleness with his barely-awake mind.

“It’s quiet outside,” Yoongi commented. “I think the storm has ended.” He kissed Jimin deeply once more, turning him onto his back and consuming him so passionately that Jimin felt his mind slip, whimpering softly.

Yoongi drew back, however, and let his gaze trail over Jimin’s form. He smiled slightly. “As much as I would love to continue this, and have you for breakfast, I’d best go check on the horses and get the fire started.”

Jimin let out a shuddering breath. Why was he so affected by Yoongi’s tone of voice? He blinked and slowly sat up as Yoongi pulled himself out of the bed. Jimin felt like he was becoming addicted to the sensuality of their relationship. Was this normal? It felt so sinful, though. Was such immense pleasure something he was allowed to enjoy like this?

The air was chilly, and Jimin ignored his thoughts in favor of hurrying to get dressed. Yoongi hadn’t yet brewed coffee, so Jimin poured coffee beans into the grinder and began to turn the grinder as he stepped over to the window to peer out.

It was difficult to tell at first, but once he spotted the fence and stable door, Jimin could see that they had about a foot and a half of snow on the ground. He turned back to the stove and finished grinding the beans. By the time the coffee was brewed and Jimin was stirring some porridge in a pot on the stove, he heard Yoongi’s footsteps out on the porch. He listened to his husband shoveling snow away from the house and then kicking his boots against the posts to get the snow off before the door swung open.

“A few trees along the edge of the woods came down in the storm,” Yoongi told him as he removed his coat. “We should go cut them up a little later.”

When Jimin stepped over to him, already holding a steaming mug of coffee for him, Yoongi hummed in appreciation. He wrapped his arms around Jimin’s waist instead of taking the mug, and Jimin couldn’t help the giggle as he stumbled backwards, trying to not spill the hot liquid.

“I’m so lucky to have such a beautiful husband to greet me as I come back from the freezing cold like this.”

“Yoongi, caref—mmph!”

Jimin had just enough time to hurriedly set the mug down on the windowsill before Yoongi’s mouth was upon his, devouring him with such intensity that Jimin forgot where they were for a moment. Yoongi was both hot and cold against him, his icy hands sneaking under Jimin’s shirt to draw a startled gasp out of him, his rough belt buckle rubbing harshly at Jimin’s cock through his trousers—when had Yoongi lifted him up to press him against the wall? Jimin moaned as Yoongi began to kiss his throat instead. His legs were spread on either side of Yoongi’s hips, and Jimin felt almost dizzy with the way his husband was ravishing him.

“Y—Yoongi, what—what are you doing?” Jimin finally managed. “It’s the—the m-middle—ahh—of the morning!”

Yoongi drew back slightly after several seconds had already passed. When he looked Jimin directly in the eyes, Jimin felt himself flush with the look in his dark eyes.

“I apologize,” Yoongi murmured, breathing heavily. “I just kept thinking about you while I was out there…” He let his head fall forward to rest against Jimin’s forehead, their noses brushing. “You don’t realize how irresistible you are. The memory of you from last night…it just makes me—” he groaned. “I’m sorry. I promised myself I wouldn’t push you.”

Jimin’s eyes were wide. He felt surprised for two reasons. One, because he had never seen Yoongi so affected like this. It made him feel beautiful and attractive in a way he never had before. Two, because the knowledge that his husband was struggling to hold himself back for him, respecting that Jimin wasn’t ready, made his heart swell with warmth.

Jimin wanted to so badly to give his husband what he needed, what he craved, what he deserved. He just…wasn’t ready. But maybe, maybe soon. Jimin loved everything about the way Yoongi handled him in the bedroom—and now, against the wall right there by their front door; maybe intercourse would be even more enjoyable.

 

*

 

The days passed slowly. As Jimin glanced at the calendar each day, seeing those two days approaching, he felt his mood begin to sink. He tried to not let it show, but he was sure Yoongi suspected something was wrong. When he caught Jimin sitting in their bedroom one day, staring at an old family photo, it all came out.

“Jimin?” Yoongi sat down beside him, putting an arm around his shoulders.

Jimin sighed, scratching his thumbnail against the edge of the photo frame.

“Their death anniversaries are coming up. One right after the other. It will be a year.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jimin leaned his cheek against Yoongi’s shoulder. “Usually, I can forget. I don’t think about it. But I was talking with Becky about Christmas, and it all just…” he sighed. “They died days apart. I didn’t know what to do, all on my own. And…only two weeks later, it was Christmas.

“We used to…we used to enjoy Christmas so much. Mother and I would decorate the entire apartment, and sing carols together. Mother would take me to R. H. Macy & Company on Sixth and Fourteenth to see the magical Christmas window displays and look at the toys, although we never bought anything there because it was too expensive. Father usually surprised us with small gifts on Christmas morning, and he would read ‘The Night Before Christmas’ poem to me as I lay in bed.” Jimin gave a wet laugh. “I knew there was no Santa Clause, but I loved the idea of him, and I desperately wished for him to be real.

“As I got older, Christmas became a quieter affair, but still the most wonderful time of the year.” Jimin stared at the photo, at his father’s stern, powerful expression, at his mother’s soft smile, and at himself, only fifteen years old.

“I didn’t celebrate Christmas at all last year. No candles, no tree, no carols or feast. No family. There was nothing. And I felt so lost.”

Yoongi’s hands took the photo frame from Jimin’s hands and carefully set it upon the bed. Then he gently held Jimin’s hands within his own, rubbing his thumb over Jimin’s knuckles. He didn’t say anything. Jimin knew there wasn’t much he could say, nor did he need Yoongi to give him empty words of comfort.

Jimin stared at their hands, at the way his were so small within Yoongi’s. He felt so safe within his hold. He felt so safe with Yoongi.

Jimin took a shuddering breath.

“Yoongi,” he started, his voice lifting at the end of his name as if it was a question.

“Yes?”

Jimin took another breath, and felt his eyes begin to water as his anxiety spiked despite how safe he felt a moment ago. “I’ve been—” one of his hands, which had been loosely curled around one of Yoongi’s thumbs, squeezed it tightly. “I’ve been keeping something from you.”

There was silence. Jimin couldn’t look up at him, but then Yoongi shifted slightly.

“What do you mean?” His voice was calm, and controlled. Almost curious. “Keeping what from me?”

Jimin pulled one of his hands away and reached into the box beside him on the bed, sifting through the small collection until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out the newspaper clipping, and handed it to Yoongi.

“This is…” Yoongi trailed off, sounding confused.

“I didn’t know you were a man when I agreed to marry you,” Jimin whispered. “I thought you were a woman named Yoonji Min.”

“I don’t understand. You thought—are you telling me you—when you agreed to marry me, you were agreeing to marry a woman? Not a man? You came all the way out here expecting to marry a woman?”

Jimin nodded. “Yes. I was—” he struggled to swallow in his suddenly tight throat, “I was so shocked the day I met you. I didn’t know what to do.” He felt his tears spill over his lashes, slowly rolling down his cheeks. “I considered pretending I was someone else, and, and disappearing. But—but then you—” he took in another shuddering breath, “you were so kind and caring, and I thought maybe I could—maybe it would be okay.”

“It’d be okay to what?”

Jimin could hear the shock in Yoongi’s voice. His voice was clipped and controlled. Was he angry? He must be angry, Jimin decided with a sinking heart.

“It’d be okay to p-pretend to—”

“Pretend?” Yoongi sounded horrified.

Jimin gasped and felt more tears drip down his face. “I’m sorry!” he hurried to say. “I—I didn’t think—I didn’t realize I—” It was becoming a little difficult to breathe. He knew Yoongi was going to make him leave. He could—“Please don’t divorce me!” Jimin burst out, beginning to cry in earnest. “Please don’t divorce me,” he pleaded quietly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—to keep it from you for so long. Please don’t divorce me.”

“Jimin.” Yoongi’s hands took him by the shoulders, his grip firm. He was most certainly angry. He sounded so upset.

Jimin shook his head, unable to lift it.

“Jimin, look at me. Please.”

Hesitantly, Jimin looked up at Yoongi through his blurry eyes. He looked upset, and worried, but not angry.

“Jimin, I’m not going to divorce you. Unless you want me to divorce you.”

Jimin frantically shook his head.

“Okay. Okay. Nobody’s getting divorced. And I’m not mad at you. I’m concerned.”

“Concerned?” Jimin hiccupped, and Yoongi lifted one hand to carefully brush at Jimin’s tears.

“Yes, concerned. Jimin, do you even—” Yoongi was frowning deeply, even if he claimed to not be mad. “Do you even like men, then? You even said I am your first—oh, shit. Have I forced you to do anything you didn’t want to do? No wonder you don’t want to have sex. Fuck. Why did you—why did you still marry me?” Yoongi steadily sounded more and more upset.

It was too many questions all at once, but Jimin understood. “You didn’t—you didn’t force me. You didn’t.” Jimin found Yoongi’s hand and let his husband cradle it protectively. “You never forced me to do anything, Yoongi. I promise. It was all—everything was my choice.” He swallowed. “I may have been frightened, but I—the truth is, I just never knew. My father never approved of men taking male lovers, and he never approved of sensitive or…delicate men. Like myself. For years, I must’ve suppressed it.

“But when I met you, everything changed. I started to realize that I liked being with a man like you. I liked your touch, I liked your gaze, I liked your attention to my needs. Your respect.” Jimin tried to force a laugh. “Your face.” He glanced up briefly, feeling his eyes watering again even as he tried desperately to smile. “You’re so handsome, I didn’t know what to do with myself. You said in your advertisement that you were plain, but you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever met.” He choked out a watery laugh, trying to calm himself down.

Yoongi’s concerned frown distorted as he gave a pained-looking smile. “No wonder you were so shy at first. No wonder you didn’t even flirt with me even though we were to be married.” He looked up at the ceiling, taking in a deep, steadying breath of air and then let it out. “It makes so much more sense now. But Jimin, why—I still don’t understand why you married me at all. Even after that first day. I know you were in a bit of shock—maybe a lot of shock, now I think of it—but after you had rested a bit, why didn’t you just say something? Why would you marry a man you didn’t know, when you thought you were supposed to be meeting a bride, not a groom?”

“I know it sounds absurd. And naïve. But I—part of me was afraid. If I didn’t marry you, what would I have? Nothing. I’d be on the streets. Not to say it was for your money. Not in that way. It was—”

“For security,” Yoongi finished for him.

Jimin nodded. “Yes, for security. To have a home. To have someone to make a life together with. I thought, if I could learn how to be another man’s husband, it would be okay.”

Yoongi gave an incredulous scoff.

“I only recently realized the truth. That all along, I did like men. And you’ve been so patient with me, so wonderful. I, I love being intimate with you. You make me feel things I’ve never felt before. You’ve allowed me to be myself in a way I never could before.”

“Jimin.” Yoongi abruptly pulled Jimin against his chest, holding him close. “My god.” He didn’t say anything else for a long, long moment. Jimin buried his face in his neck, wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s chest and gripping the back of his shirt. They stayed like that for a long time, with Yoongi slowly rubbing one hand up and down Jimin’s back soothingly.

Eventually, they pulled apart, and Jimin looked up at Yoongi, not knowing what to say. Yoongi used his thumb to wipe the last of Jimin’s damp eyes.

“We’re going to do this right, okay?” he said quietly, moving his hand to tenderly cradle Jimin’s cheek in his palm. “We’re going to communicate with each other. When you’re frightened and don’t want to do something, tell me. When you’re curious, and want to try something, tell me. I want to help you. If I do something you don’t like, or don’t enjoy, don’t just keep it to yourself. Tell me.”

“A-and you?” Jimin asked.

“Me?” Yoongi frowned slightly.

Jimin nodded, moving his hands to settle on Yoongi’s thighs. “You’ll tell me when you want to do things, and all that? So I know what you want, too?”

Yoongi smiled, a true smile then. “I will.”

Jimin’s eyes flicked down to his mouth and back up. “Can I kiss you, now?”

Yoongi laughed, his shoulders shaking. “Fuck.” He took a breath, wetting his lips, laughing again. “Of course. You can kiss me any time you want to, Jimin.”

Jimin surged forward, nearly falling onto Yoongi’s lap as he pulled his husband close and pressed their mouths together. Yoongi kissed back gently, but Jimin wasn’t having any of that, now. His emotions had been drawn too tightly, and suddenly a huge weight had lifted from his soul. He licked desperately into Yoongi’s mouth, tasting him, drinking him in. Large hands slid down to his hips and helped shift him onto Yoongi’s lap until he was straddling him. Jimin whined when Yoongi sucked and licked along his tongue until he was taking control and slipping into Jimin’s mouth.

They kissed for such a long time that Jimin lost all sense of what time it was. Every time they paused for a breath, one of them would resume the kiss. Every time one would slow down, the other would take control and build up the intensity again.

When they finally settled, just holding each other, Jimin spoke against his shoulder.

“Yoongi?”

“Hm?”

“I want to try.”

“Try what?”

“I want to try having sex with you. Proper sex.”

Yoongi froze, and then slowly pulled Jimin away from him until he could look into his eyes. “Are you sure? We don’t have to. We can wait. There’s no rush.”

Jimin smiled, lacing their fingers together. “I know. But I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. And I think I’m—I trust you. I want to try. I know now that if I don’t like it, that you’ll stop. But I really—” he took a deep breath before taking the plunge and admitting, “I want to know what it feels like to have you inside me.”

 

 

 

*

 

 

Notes:

SO MUCH HAPPENED!!!! And next chapter is going to be so much fun~!

Some fun facts for this chapter:
- 'The Night Before Christmas' was published in 1823, so it would have already been a classic by the time Jimin was a little child.
- Macy's department store, or rather R. H. Macy & Company, was founded in 1858, AND they even started having Christmas displays and Santa Claus in the 1865-1874 period! (No exact info, but that seems to be the range from my readings.) And although the store isn't at that particular location anymore, it would have been on 6th Avenue and 14th Street when Jimin was a child in this story! :D

Chapter 7: Chapter VII

Notes:

I'm going to warn you now that more than half of this chapter is smut. If that's not something you like...well...why are you reading MY fics if that's the case? 😂

Enjoy!

 

Chapter VII

 

Yoongi hiked through the woods, his rifle in hand. The stars were fading as the sky lightened, the sun about to rise for the day. The woods were peaceful. He could hear snow dropping from branches, pine needles quivering as they sprang back up without the extra weight. He could hear squirrels scurrying along trunks and jumping through the trees, sometimes chattering at each other. The little birds were waking up and calling through the trees to each other.

Yoongi didn’t really need to hunt today, but he needed the time to be alone with his thoughts. He had spent so many years of his life alone or on the move that now sometimes Yoongi just needed to step away and return to quiet and solitude. Here, it was just him and nature. No distractions, no conflict.

Yoongi sighed, his breath coming out in a big cloud of white. He paused and leaned back against a tall pine, taking in the woods around him. He could hear the stream gurgling underneath the ice.

Jimin’s confession yesterday had truly caught Yoongi off guard. He’d assumed that Jimin had just been shy in the beginning. Then he’d assumed that Jimin was sexually inexperienced, and therefore nervous about having intercourse. Jimin hadn’t given any indication that he wasn’t attracted to Yoongi from the very first day. He’d blushed around Yoongi, he’d melted into his touches, his gaze had lingered on Yoongi’s body when he thought Yoongi wasn’t looking. Yoongi hadn’t had a reason to suspect Jimin hadn’t previously been attracted to men.

But to find out that Jimin had been thinking he was writing those letters to a woman, that he’d given up his entire life in New York City to travel thousands of miles to marry a stranger—a woman, not a man—and then upon realizing his mistake, he had just…gone along with it even though he didn’t think he liked men! It was frankly mindboggling to Yoongi.

He tried to think back to the summer and tried to recall if Jimin had ever seemed afraid of him. If, without knowing, Yoongi had corralled him into anything he didn’t want to do. Their first kiss—it had been gentle, he vaguely recalled. And Jimin had seemed to enjoy it.

Yoongi pursed his lips when he recalled their wedding night, though. The way Jimin had seemed startled and even panicked when Yoongi had touched his entrance. A bitter taste filled his mouth. That. Although Jimin had insisted that Yoongi hadn’t forced him to do anything he didn’t want to do—and of course Yoongi had stopped immediately when he realized how frightened Jimin was then—Yoongi had touched him in a way he didn’t like. To the point that he’d frantically told Yoongi to stop.

Yoongi took another shuddering breath, filling his lungs with frozen air. He looked up through the trees toward the sky as it lightened more and more. It was going to be a beautiful day.

Yoongi may have not understood what he saw and heard when he was very young, but once he was a teenager and old enough to understand the few memories he had, he’d come to the realization that his father had abused his mother. Violently, and possibly even sexually. Yoongi recalled his father laughing mockingly about the way his mother had been “a bitch who didn’t know her place,” how she had never listened to him, and how she had been an embarrassment to him. As a teenager, Yoongi had decided that he would never be a man like his father. It didn’t matter if he was fucking random lovers he’d never see again, or if they were longer relationships. His youth had been filled with bitterness and anger, but Yoongi had promised himself that he would not hurt his lovers; he would protect them. He would not force; he would seek permission.

With Jimin, had Yoongi assumed he had permission when he didn’t actually have it? Was Yoongi just as bad as his father? No. Of course he wasn’t as bad as his father; Yoongi could rationalize that. But an apple didn’t fall far from the tree, did it. Yoongi had bad blood running in his veins. He’d gotten better about losing his temper and remaining calm in unpleasant situations, but what if that changed someday?

Yoongi straightened up and resumed hiking, heading down the hill through the trees.

With the sun shining through the icy branches and sparkling like gems, breathing in the chilly air deep into his lungs, Yoongi felt the tightness in his chest loosen somewhat. The past may have been dark, but there was so much light ahead in the future. He would make it be so.

He thought about Jimin’s declaration that he was now ready to have sex with Yoongi. Although Yoongi didn’t doubt that it was the truth, they hadn’t done it last night. They had only fallen asleep together, Jimin curled against Yoongi as usual. Maybe tonight, though, if the mood was right.

Knowing what he knew now, however, Yoongi wanted to make sure Jimin not only felt safe and comfortable, but also he wanted to make it a memorable experience for his husband. It wasn’t just going to be a jump from one step to the next, but a special occasion. Like their wedding night.

Yoongi didn’t consider himself to be a very romantic fellow, but he wasn’t ignorant to the things romantic-minded folks did. And he knew the kinds of things Jimin appreciated.

By the time Yoongi returned to the house, a couple of snow grouse hanging over his arm, the sun was up higher in the sky and one column of smoke was drifting up from the cookstove’s chimney. Yoongi kicked the snow off of his boots before heading inside. It smelled of coffee, sausages, and griddle cakes.

“Mm, smells good,” Yoongi commented as he stepped into the kitchen.

Jimin turned from the stove where he was turning the sausages. “Good morning. I felt like something a little indulgent this morning, and I wasn’t sure when you’d be back,” he smiled bashfully. “I haven’t pulled out the maple syrup yet. If you’re going down into the cellar, can you bring some up?”

When Yoongi returned, setting the syrup on the table, he was handed a mug of steaming coffee. He took a sip, set it down, and then put his hands around Jimin’s waist, gently pulling him close and kissing him on the cheek since he couldn’t reach his mouth while he was at the stove. Jimin relaxed against him, sinking into his hold.

“This is nice,” Jimin murmured, setting down the flat wooden spoon he was using and then turned in Yoongi’s arms.

Yoongi had never kissed someone with such soft, plump lips like Jimin’s. They molded to his so beautifully, dragging against his skin. When he licked into Jimin’s mouth, they opened to welcome him inside. When he sucked Jimin’s bottom lip between his, it was like a soft candy that might melt into liquid sugar upon his tongue at any moment. And after his lips had been thoroughly kissed, they turned rosy and swollen in a way that threatened to send Yoongi’s blood flowing south.

When Jimin’s attention had to return to the food on the stove, Yoongi gave him one more lingering kiss on his neck and then stepped over to the table.

“Do you have any plans for today?” he asked.

“I was going to work on some projects out in the stable, why?”

Yoongi nodded. “That sounds good. I was going to get those grouse ready for cooking for dinner, and then I thought I’d stay in and tidy up a bit.”

Jimin nodded.

They ate breakfast and discussed their next trip into town, which would probably be the week before Christmas. Unfortunately, during the winter months it was really only feasible to go into town once or twice a month. They were still able to make regular visits to the Jungs to restock on dairy and eggs, but other than that they had to rely on canned food from their pantry and their cellar stock. Luckily they really had nothing to worry about. They had an ongoing list to write down anything they needed or ran out of, and Yoongi added a few things to it.

Once breakfast had been cleaned up and Jimin was out in the stable, Yoongi set about tidying up. He began with the usual cleaning, but once that was finished he went into the cellar to pull out some long candles to put in a candelabra. He brought it into the bedroom, moving the oil lantern to another corner of the room. He wasn’t really sure what else to do to make the bedroom seem more appealing, and there was no way to find flowers to give Jimin.

He rummaged around in his dresser drawer until he found the one bottle of cologne he owned. He’d bought it last year, and it was nearly full because he had probably only used it two or three times. Maybe Jimin would like it, though. He popped the cap off and gave it an experimental sniff. The first scent he noticed was the musk, but there was a small hint of floral and citrus. He was by no means a perfume connoisseur, though.

After a moment of hesitation, he took out a handkerchief, dabbed it with the cologne, and then shook it out, waving the fragrance over the bed. He felt a bit like an idiot after, but Yoongi pushed the thought aside and tucked the bottle back into the drawer, leaving the handkerchief folded neatly upon the dresser.

 

*

 

Jimin wondered if Yoongi thought he’d been hiding away from him all day. Other than returning to the house a few times to warm up, eat, or relieve himself, Jimin stayed in his workshop all day. Each time he was inside, Yoongi was busy himself, however, so perhaps his husband hadn’t noticed.

Jimin thought he could smell an unusual scent around Yoongi when he came in for a brief meal midway through the day. It was subtle, barely there at all, as if the other man had washed his hands after spilling something perfumy. Jimin didn’t mention it until Yoongi reached up to brush Jimin’s hair out of his eyes, and he got a stronger whiff. He couldn’t help the way the musky scent made him pause, breathing in a little more deeply. His eyes went out of focus for a moment as he took it in, wondering about the tingly way it made him feel.

He blinked, and smiled up at Yoongi, cheeks feeling a little warm.

“Did you use a new soap?” Jimin asked.

“Ah.” Yoongi glanced at his hand as he drew it back. “No. I found an old cologne I’d forgotten about. Is it too strong for you?”

Jimin shook his head and brought Yoongi’s hand back toward his face to breathe in, now that he knew the source of the fragrance. “No, it’s nice. I like it.” It was a rather masculine scent. Jimin wasn’t sure if he’d want to wear something so musky himself, but on Yoongi, it was alluring in a rough sort of way. Jimin hesitated. “I really like it. It suits you,” he said quietly.

Yoongi’s eyes darkened, and for a moment Jimin thought he was going to kiss him, or push him up against the table and then kiss him, but instead he smiled, nodded, and stepped away. “Thank you.”

When Jimin returned to his workshop a few minutes later, he stopped for a moment and patted his cheeks. Why did he feel so flustered? Had he wanted Yoongi to push him against the table and kiss him as passionately as he had that other time?

Yes. Yes, he did.

“Dear god,” Jimin muttered to himself. “What is wrong with me? It’s the middle of the day, for crying out loud.”

Thankfully, after returning to his woodworking, the tension he was feeling settled and his mind refocused itself on the task at hand.

Jimin returned to the house as the daylight faded and he could no longer see the wood as clearly. Inside, he was met by a very different scent than earlier; he could smell the roasted grouse with fragrant herbs and fresh bread. A bottle of wine stood on the table beside empty glasses.

“Yoongi?” Jimin asked, looking around. Yoongi was stirring some vegetables in a pan on the cookstove.

“Oh, are you done for the day?” he asked.

“Yes…” Jimin stepped over to him, unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves as he adjusted to the heat of the house compared to the chill of the stable. “Why does this feel like a special dinner?”

Yoongi grinned. “How would you feel about having a second try at our wedding night?”

Jimin’s eyes widened and he took a second look around at the arrangement of the table set so nicely, recalling the cologne which he couldn’t smell anymore past the smells of the kitchen. Yoongi wasn’t dressed up, but Jimin noticed that he seemed groomed more than usual. The house, too, seemed to be especially clean. Jimin looked down at himself, feeling an unpleasant sort of disappointment when he saw how grimy he was. Pieces of sawdust and woodchips littered his clothing despite trying to brush it off as usual.

“I’m so dirty though,” he pouted.

Yoongi only laughed. “That’s okay. You can clean up and change. There’s enough time before dinner is ready.”

When Jimin went into the bedroom, he realized that the scent of Yoongi’s cologne was much stronger there. He took a moment to breathe it in, enjoying how it wasn’t too overpowering, having diluted over the hours, but there was still a very alluring fragrance hovering in the air. He also noticed a candelabra sitting on the table beside the bed. Had Yoongi done this on purpose for their second try at their wedding night?

A bubble of warmth filled Jimin chest, and he found himself smiling as he picked out some comfortable indoor clothing to change into after cleaning up.

However, there was another surprise waiting for him in the washroom. Yoongi had filled the tub with water that was still steaming, and he had sprinkled something fragrant and sweet into the water. Jimin dipped a finger into the water to test its temperature, and was happy to see that although it wasn’t scalding, it was still quite warm. He quickly undressed and climbed into the tub, curling his legs up as he sank into the water.

“Oh.” A full-body shudder went through him as the heat enveloped him so wonderfully. He took a moment to just soak before he brought the cloth and soap into the water to begin washing his body properly. Although he originally had planned to clean up quickly, he found himself taking his time to scrub his skin, and knowing now that Yoongi would be entering him, he reached down below and cleaned himself thoroughly.

By the time he finished and stood from the tub to dry off, Jimin was feeling almost sleepy, which was not what he wanted, at all. Nevertheless, he dried off and slipped into his clothes, heading back into the kitchen to find Yoongi sitting at the table, reading one of the cookbooks. He looked up when Jimin entered.

“Oh, good. I was just about to summon you,” he smiled.

Jimin felt shy all of a sudden. “Thank you for the bath,” he said softly.

“Did you enjoy it?”

Jimin nodded, coming to a pause in front of his husband where he was still sitting. Yoongi set down the book and put both hands upon Jimin’s hips, drawing him closer between his legs.

“You look radiant, sweetheart,” he said.

Jimin could feel himself blush, pleased. He let himself be drawn down for a soft kiss, tasting bits of dinner on Yoongi’s tongue where he had probably tested out their meal as he cooked.

“I’m going to make you feel wonderful tonight,” Yoongi murmured against his lips when they paused. A little thrill ran down Jimin’s spine. “But first, let’s fill our bellies with some delicious food.”

Jimin leaned down for another slow kiss, addicted to the heady way it made him feel, sighing quietly as they pulled apart so that Yoongi could stand up again.

Dinner proceeded as usual, with them chatting about this and that in between bites of food and sips of wine. Yoongi had picked a sweeter wine this evening, Jimin noticed. It settled nicely on his tongue, and didn’t leave a dry after-feeling like some of the other wines Yoongi enjoyed at times. When they finished, together they cleaned up the kitchen. Yoongi kept giving Jimin kisses whenever they passed close to one another, and although it made Jimin laugh after the third or fourth time, he couldn’t say that he wasn’t enjoying it immensely.

He felt spoiled.

Going into the bedroom, Yoongi lit the candles instead of the lantern, and Jimin took a moment to take in the way their flickering light danced across the room and reflected in the dark windows.

“Let me undress you,” Yoongi’s voice came up from behind him, just above his ear. His hands rested upon Jimin’s hips but slipped upward, sliding underneath Jimin’s shirt to curve around his bare waist and stomach. Jimin hummed affirmation as he nodded, turning in his hold to face Yoongi.

His husband slowly and almost reverently unfastened each button, pushing fabric from Jimin’s body piece by piece. He murmured sweet words to him with every movement, lips against his skin.

“You’re so beautiful.” A delicate kiss to that sensitive part on his neck. “I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as you.” A slow suckle of Jimin’s nipple as his fingers dipped down to grasp the inside of Jimin’s trousers. “I’m going to make sure you feel beautiful tonight, Jimin.” A lingering kiss just above his belly button.

Jimin was not nearly as soft as he had been when he first came to live there. In the months since he began living with Yoongi, he had done enough hard labor alongside Yoongi that he, too, now had a firmer abdomen, stronger arms, and slightly thicker thighs than before.

Jimin could already feel himself growing more and more affected. By Yoongi’s touch, by his words, by the sound of his voice. He tried to keep quiet to enjoy the sound of his husband, but when those lips dragged down his abdomen and kissed the very base of his cock, Jimin whimpered as his knees buckled.

Yoongi guided him to lie down as he removed his own clothes, his movements quicker and less drawn-out. Jimin could see that he was partially aroused already, and he felt a tingle of heat spark in his belly. Yoongi climbed over him and lowered himself down to kiss Jimin. They licked into each other’s mouths, unhurried, but Jimin gasped as Yoongi’s hard length stroked his belly and then pressed against his own cock.

Jimin broke the kiss to breathe heavily, unconsciously spreading his legs and lifting his knees into the air as he pulled his feet closer up the bed. Yoongi shifted to lick and suck at his throat. When his teeth pressed into the skin a little and a surge of arousal shot straight to his cock, Jimin gave a startled moan.

Yoongi seemed to be taking his time with him; that was undeniable. Once again, he moved downward, and spent several minutes laving at and tugging upon Jimin’s nipples. Jimin gasped for breath, arching up slightly. He rolled his hips against Yoongi’s, searching for friction.

“Please,” he begged suddenly. “Want you.”

Yoongi paused for a moment before finishing giving the nipple his attention. But then he pushed himself up and reached over to pick up the bottle of oil. Jimin watched the way it shined upon his fingers, his skin turning glossy in the candlelight as he spread it generously around them.

When his finger pushed inside, it was a now-familiar sensation.

“More,” Jimin urged.

Yoongi laughed and ducked down to kiss his ribs. “Eager, now, are we?” he teased. But he obliged, slipping the second finger inside for that welcome stretch. He pressed his fingers in deeply, spreading them apart in a very purposeful manner. Jimin could tell that he was avoiding his sensitive area. When he pressed a third finger inside, Jimin bit his lip around a whimper. He could feel the stretch even more now, and he unconsciously squirmed, knees knocking into Yoongi’s ribs.

Yoongi’s fingers paused inside him. He looked up at Jimin’s face. Jimin wasn’t sure what kind of expression he was making, but Yoongi looked concerned. “Are you okay?” he asked, his other hand gently pushing one of Jimin’s thighs apart again, sliding down the inner thigh to rest upon his lower abdomen.

“Y-yes. It’s just…a lot,” Jimin whispered. Three fingers.

Yoongi looked apologetic. “I know. But you need to be stretched so it doesn’t hurt when I enter you.”

Jimin looked down at Yoongi’s cock where it was suspended in the air. It was long and thick; much larger and longer than just two of Yoongi’s fingers. Thicker than three, even, Jimin thought. Was he going to put more than three in him?

“Shh, shh,” Yoongi soothed. “We’re going to take it slow. Here, would you like me to—” he ducked down and swallowed Jimin’s cock whole, with no warning.

“Ah!” Jimin jolted, briefly clenching around the still fingers inside him until he controlled himself. As he relaxed, losing himself to the pleasure of Yoongi’s mouth, he almost didn’t notice the fingers inside him begin to push in deeper and spread apart more. One of his fingertips brushed against that spot inside, though, and Jimin cried out sharply. He felt himself throb inside Yoongi’s mouth, and then abruptly he could feel his orgasm approaching.

“No, no wait,” he exclaimed, both hands flying down to grab at Yoongi’s hair. “I don’t want to come yet.” His breaths were slightly panicked.

Yoongi pulled off of him. “It’s okay if you come.”

Jimin shook his head. “Don’t want to, not yet.”

Yoongi took pity on him and sat up, shifting closer. His right hand’s fingers were still inside Jimin, but then he slowly withdrew them. He reached for the bottle of oil and dribbled it over his dark erection. Jimin watched with an open mouth as the hand that had been inside Jimin a moment ago began to coat his length with the oil, squeezing and pumping it until it was slick all over.

“Do you want to stay like this, or do you want to turn around?” Yoongi asked him without stopping his hand movements.

“What?” Jimin didn’t understand.

“If you’re on your stomach, on your knees, it might be easier on you,” he explained.

But Jimin shook his head. “No, I—like this is fine. I want—I want to see you.” The idea of not being able to see his husband as he penetrated him frightened Jimin. “Maybe…maybe we can try it that way another time,” he offered quietly.

Yoongi used his clean hand to gently rub Jimin’s belly. “Of course. Anything you want, sweetheart.” He paused. “Are you ready?”

Jimin held his breath, before he remembered that he needed to relax. “Yes.”

Yoongi repositioned Jimin’s legs so that his knees were higher up and his thighs were spread more, and then he carefully touched the head of his cock to Jimin’s stretched entrance. He stroked it in a circle a couple times before beginning to put pressure on him to push in.

Jimin fisted the blankets below him, continuously having to remind himself to relax even though all he wanted to do was tense up. When Yoongi paused, Jimin inadvertently whimpered.

“You’re—really tight,” Yoongi groaned out. “Do you want me to stretch you more?”

When it hit Jimin that Yoongi’s penis was inside him right now, albeit only just barely, something strange snapped inside Jimin’s mind.

“Oh god,” he moaned, and abruptly he loosened up enough for Yoongi to sink in a few more inches.

“Fuck, you’re so—” Yoongi’s voice was rough, almost guttural.

Jimin’s body was lighting up, sparking, and he could feel himself leaking from the tip of his cock.

“Yoongi,” he gasped.

“Yeah?”

“More. Please—I—ohh—”

Yoongi gave a grunt and clamped his hands down around Jimin’s waist to hold him firmly as he pushed more strongly, sinking in deeper and deeper until he stopped and Jimin could feel him pressed flush against him. He could also feel the thick intrusion all the way to just under his belly button. Throbbing inside him. He thought could feel Yoongi’s heartbeat inside him.

He let out a shuddering breath of air and wrapped his legs tightly around Yoongi’s waist to hold him still.

“Don’t worry; I won’t move until you’re ready,” Yoongi reassured him, leaning down to brush Jimin’s hair out of his face and kiss him lightly.

“Y-you’re inside me,” Jimin whispered, eyes wide.

Yoongi grinned. “That I am.”

“I’ve—” Jimin mouthed wordlessly at him for a split second as he tried to wrap his mind around the sensation of feeling so full. “I’ve never f-felt like this before. So b—you’re so big,” he whined suddenly.

“Too big?” Yoongi sounded worried, but Jimin shook his head frantically.

“N-no. Feels—ah—good. I like it. Just—oh. Can you—” he squirmed. “Can you—”

Yoongi shifted, pulling out a little, and Jimin gasped loudly. “Oh god.” Why did it feel so utterly wonderful?

Yoongi pushed in again, and then pulled farther out before sliding in fully once again. They were small, gentle movements, not fast at all, but Jimin’s mind abruptly turned chaotic; he realized that he loved this feeling. His mouth fell open as he gulped for air, eyes staring up at the patterns flickering across the ceiling from the candlelight. He could feel his body being moved upon the bed with each thrust. He could feel the way Yoongi was using his strength to hold him still. Yoongi had complete power over him in that very moment, and for some reason that knowledge coupled with the intensely pleasurable sensation of his thick, swollen penis plunging so deeply into Jimin’s most intimate, private part made Jimin’s mind explode with every little thought he’d had in the past about wanting to be cared for, wanting to be soft, wanting to be spoiled…

The moan that spilled from Jimin’s throat was loud and unfiltered as he reached up to hold onto the pillow, spreading his legs more and lifting his hips to encourage Yoongi.

“You like that?” Yoongi panted. Jimin could hear the smile in his voice.

He nodded into the pillow, unable to speak for a moment. “M-more—oh, fuck. Yoongi!”

His husband drew out more and more, his foreskin dragging against his inner walls in a way that made Jimin’s mind sing—and then he gripped Jimin’s waist harder and thrust all the way in, in a way that made Jimin cry out sharply.

Soon, Yoongi began to move more rhythmically, grunting and panting with the effort of thrusting into him again and again. Jimin could only lie there and moan, taking his husband’s cock like he was made for it.

The sound of their slapping skin and the creaking of the bed was loud in the quiet of the night. Jimin felt like his breath was being punched out of his lungs with every strong thrust. He looked up at Yoongi, captivated by the way all of his muscles were flexed. Jimin could see the pleasure on his face, in his eyes.

Yoongi’s pace slowed momentarily as he leaned farther down, looping his arms under Jimin’s knees and lifting his feet into the air. Jimin’s eyes widened at the exceedingly vulnerable position he was now in, but he didn’t have much time to pay attention to that thought. The new angle caused Yoongi’s cock to rub directly against that sensitive bundle of nerves inside him, and it startled out an embarrassingly lewd moan from Jimin’s throat. It was almost guttural, it was so obscene.

“There you go,” Yoongi crooned, his voice tense with the effort of thrusting into Jimin so powerfully. “You’re—ugh—doing so well. So perfect. Fuck.”

The beautiful friction inside him was nearly fiery. Jimin could feel himself rushing toward his orgasm, but he fought it with everything he had. He didn’t want this to end. The effort to stave off his climax was a struggle, though; his toes curled in the air, his fists clenched the blankets below him, and he wailed with every push.

“Y-Yoongi! Yoon—ah! Oh god, oh guh—I’m gon—uh!”

When Yoongi’s hand abruptly curled around Jimin’s bouncing cock, thumb rubbing over the aching tip, Jimin squealed and frantically reached down to grab at his hand.

“No, I’m gonna come!” he arched up, writhing in the air, trying to fight it. But it was too late. With a sob, he crashed over the precipice, vision going completely white, ears roaring.

When his mind came back, his body was twitching. Yoongi was buried deep inside but unmoving, and with every exhale Jimin could feel him even more. He sucked in lungful after lungful of air, the little aftershocks settling but not completely over.

He felt Yoongi shift over him, and then warm but dry lips pressed against his open ones. He didn’t have the presence of mind to kiss back at first, but when Yoongi pulled back, he whimpered quietly and the lips returned more firmly until Jimin was able to reciprocate. He curled his tongue around Yoongi’s, intensely aware that at this moment his husband was penetrating him in two ways.

Without pausing their kiss, Yoongi began to draw out and push back in, slowly and shallowly. Jimin whined and threw his arms tightly around his shoulders but continued to kiss back almost desperately.

Every drag was like electric shocks now. Startling, nearly painful. Jimin could tell that Yoongi was trying his best to be careful, but as his husband approached his own orgasm, Jimin could feel the way Yoongi was losing control. His thrusts became more powerful, faster, and lost all rhythm as he chased his release. Meanwhile, as Jimin’s body quaked and shook as it was used so obscenely for Yoongi’s pleasure, that strangely foggy, floaty feeling came over Jimin’s mind.

It made him feel small and delicate, and crave for a comforting embrace.

When Yoongi suddenly shuddered and groaned loudly, shooting his hot release directly into Jimin’s body, Jimin’s eyes rolled back. Yoongi slowed, thrusting only a couple more times and producing a softly wet, squelching sound before he slipped completely from Jimin.

With an exhausted groan, Yoongi collapsed next to him on the bed. Jimin lay there unmoving for a moment before the need to be close overwhelmed him. He immediately rolled onto his side to bury his face against Yoongi’s chest, pulling him flush against him with a little hiccup. He could feel semen leaking out of him.

“Jimin?” Yoongi’s voice was soft, even though it was a little rough around the edges. “How are you feeling?”

Jimin hummed against him, snuggling his face against his firm chest.

“You’re okay?” Yoongi tried again. He began to card his fingers through Jimin’s messy hair.

Jimin nodded, and but struggled to speak for a moment. He relaxed into the feeling of Yoongi’s fingers in his hair.

“I feel…a little strange,” he admitted. “Good strange.” He was quiet, listening to their heartbeats gradually calming. When Yoongi gently pulled him higher up on the bed so he could rest his cheek on the pillow and face him, Jimin smiled at him somewhat loopily. “I liked it a lot.”

Yoongi grinned, looking a little tired, but pleased. “You did?”

“Mm hm. I really liked having you inside me,” he smiled dreamily. “Felt so good.”

Yoongi smiled wider, laughing quietly. “Well, that’s good to hear.”

 

Jimin wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, but the next thing he knew it was morning. The sun was shining brightly through the window, and Jimin was curled up underneath the covers, clean and in his long johns. He didn’t recall dressing himself, so he could only assume that Yoongi had cleaned him and dressed him in his sleep. Now, Yoongi was fast asleep beside him, mouth open slightly. Jimin blinked, somehow wide-awake. He carefully sat up, wincing at the soreness that shot through his entire body. It was a good sore, though. He looked down at his husband, so peaceful in sleep.

Jimin reached out and very gently ran his fingers through Yoongi’s hair.

How had he been so lucky to accidentally marry such a man like this? A man that was considerate, a man who paid attention to the little details, a man who listened to him. A man who didn’t ridicule Jimin for being soft or emotionally weak at times, but instead cared for him and showed him so much lo—

Jimin pulled his hand back abruptly, startled by his own thoughts.

One thing Jimin had always craved was to be loved. He had never loved someone in such a manner, of course. Familial love was another thing entirely. Even when he was younger, Jimin had never been consumed by feelings of love for anyone. And he certainly hadn’t been on the receiving end of it. He had thoughts of what love might feel like, but he wasn’t sure how to distinguish the romantic, intimate love from simple lustful feelings or friendly caring.

He wasn’t daft; Jimin knew he cared for Yoongi, and Yoongi for him. He worried for his husband’s safety, he was happy when Yoongi was happy, and he always enjoyed his company, whether they were simply chatting or being intimate with each other. But was it just friendly, or was it more? Or maybe it was too soon for those kinds of thoughts?

Jimin shook his head. He must be feeling out of sorts from their activities the night before. For Yoongi to know Jimin’s body so thoroughly in a way that even Jimin did not was…overwhelming.

His fingers slipped from Yoongi’s hair to his temple, his nails gently tracing down his face , across his prickly jaw, and then up his chin to his open mouth. Jimin drew his fingertip along Yoongi’s lower lip, gazing down at him. Even though Yoongi was so much older than him, when he was asleep like this, the faint lines usually visible when he was awake evened out to make him appear much more youthful. Even so, Jimin thought as he ran his finger delicately over and around the soft lips, feeling Yoongi’s warm breath on his fingers, Jimin was consciously aware of how much he enjoyed being considerably younger than his husband.

Being so much younger made it more acceptable for Yoongi to take the reins and guide him. It was understandable when Yoongi knew things Jimin did not. It was expected that Yoongi was Jimin’s protector.

Jimin didn’t realize his thoughts were swirling more and more heatedly until his fingertip dipped inside the warmth of Yoongi’s mouth—and his husband’s lips closed down around it.

Jimin gasped loudly, suddenly realizing how closely he was leaning over Yoongi and how he had somehow become aroused without doing anything at all.

Yoongi’s tongue curled around Jimin’s finger and drew it deeper into his mouth, sucking gently at it. When his eyes popped open, fully awake and with no trace of sleepiness, Jimin gaped at him. Yoongi stared up at him with his intense gaze as he sucked at Jimin’s finger. He then reached up to close his own fingers around Jimin’s wrist and draw the finger from his mouth.

“Enjoying yourself?” One eyebrow rose, a slow smirk spreading across his lips.

Jimin wet his own lips and swallowed. “I wasn’t—I didn’t mean to—”

Yoongi put his hand up to cradle the back of Jimin’s head, and suddenly he was being pulled down to connect their mouths. The kiss steadily grew more passionate, and Jimin didn’t realize he was rocking his hips down against Yoongi until two large hands fit themselves quite firmly upon both globes of his ass and began to help him grind down.

Jimin became lost to the sensation, mouth falling open and limp against Yoongi’s as his cock was rubbed so fiercely between them that he almost wanted to cry. He only whimpered weakly into Yoongi’s mouth with every drag, though.

When one of Yoongi’s hands moved to his front and dove inside his long johns to wrap around Jimin’s cock, he moaned loudly and began to rock even more frantically, chasing that addictive feeling.

Jimin came rather quickly after that, falling limply on top of Yoongi as he panted for air. Below him, he could feel Yoongi chuckle.

“Good morning,” Yoongi said.

Jimin felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment, but he was still tingly enough to pull his attention away from the embarrassment.

“Good morning,” he mumbled.

“Is this what I could wake up to every morning if I didn’t go hunting?” Yoongi asked lightly, shifting slightly and then rolling Jimin off of him as he sat up.

Jimin peeked up at him from where he was now pressed against the pillow. He was starting to feel the stickiness inside his long johns, and he pouted.

“Now I’ll have to wash these again,” he pointed out.

Yoongi looked apologetic. “I’ll remember to use my mouth on you next time, so there’s no mess.”

Jimin sat up quickly, head spinning slightly. “Yoongi!”

“What? Don’t tell me you wouldn’t enjoy that.”

Jimin huffed and ungracefully pulled himself from the bed, stripping his soiled clothing off and quickly wiping the excess cum from his front. He became aware after a moment of silence that although Yoongi was sitting, he hadn’t risen from the bed yet. Jimin turned to frown at him.

“Are you not getting up?”

Yoongi smiled indulgently. “Just admiring the view, ‘s all.”

Jimin glanced down at his naked body, only slightly less self-conscious than he used to be. He forced himself not to cover his privates. They weren’t really ‘private’ anymore; at least, not from Yoongi.

“Is the—” Jimin swallowed, heart pounding a little with what he was about to say, “view that nice, that you can’t even get out of bed?” He knew his cheeks were flushed, but he liked the way Yoongi teased him. He wanted to return the favor.

Yoongi’s smile widened, and he made a show of dragging his eyes down Jimin’s entire body before slowly returning to his face.

“It most certainly is.”

Jimin had no idea why he was still standing there, buck naked, shivering. He waited as Yoongi finally swung his legs out from under the blankets and stood up. He was visibly hard in his long johns. Jimin felt goosebumps spread across his skin as his husband stepped closer, and it wasn’t just from the cold air.

Yoongi stopped right in front of  him, and lifted his chin with his thumb. Jimin felt like he was in a trance as Yoongi looked between his eyes, down at his slightly open mouth, and back into his eyes.

His voice was soft when he whispered inches from Jimin’s tingling lips. “Why do I get the feeling that I may have inadvertently triggered something terribly delightful in you by properly consummating our marriage?” This time, it was Yoongi’s finger—his thumb, to be exact—which slipped into Jimin’s open mouth and pressed in against his tongue. Jimin realized he could taste his own cum on Yoongi’s skin.

Jimin’s head was going floaty again, and he didn’t understand it at all. He blinked rapidly and then inhaled deeply through his nose, trying to clear his mind. But the finger resting heavily in his mouth kept drawing that strange feeling back.

Jimin reached up and hesitantly pulled Yoongi’s hand away.

“Yoongi, I feel funny,” he whispered anxiously.

Yoongi’s playful expression disappeared. “Funny?”

“Yes, I—” Jimin took a deep breath, extraordinarily aware of his nakedness and Yoongi’s erection hanging in the air between them, even if it was covered by a piece of clothing. “I’ve started feeling a certain way when we become intimate. My thoughts, they…I don’t know how to explain it. It becomes difficult to think, to talk. And my mind just feels…like a warm, hazy cloud.”

Yoongi looked pensive. “Is it a good feeling? Do you enjoy it?”

Jimin considered it for a moment before responding. It was certainly not a bad feeling. Just a vulnerable one. “I think so? But I also feel like I lose a bit of control when it happens. I feel…vulnerable. But I like the way it feels when you take care of me when I’m feeling that way.”

Yoongi’s smile was gentle. “That’s good. You have nothing to worry about. I’ve,” he paused, “never had a lover like that before, but I will try to be mindful of it when you become that way.”

“So I shouldn’t fight it?”

“You’ve been trying to fight it?”

Jimin nodded.

When Yoongi wrapped his arms around his shoulder and drew him close, Jimin melted against him, even though Yoongi’s erection pressed into his belly.

“You don’t need to fight it. Just let go and allow yourself to feel.”

 

*

 

The days immediately following their first ‘real’ sex felt like a true honeymoon to Jimin. Although they did not go anywhere special, and they continued with their daily chores and activities as usual, the amount of physical touch between them increased tenfold. Their kisses became more passionate, even if they were out in the stable and momentarily distracted from shoveling hay from the loft. (Jimin had been extremely self-conscious of the hay sticking out of his hair and clothing as he straightened up after Yoongi had swallowed every last drop of his release down while Jimin had clenched around the three fingers buried inside him.)

Yoongi’s language also became a little more inappropriate when he flirted with Jimin, and Jimin found himself craving Yoongi’s touch more often, even seeking it out when he knew it was improper. Such as when Yoongi was just trying to read one of his books in the evening, but Jimin was feeling needy. It was there where Yoongi had taught Jimin how to pleasure him with his mouth.

Jimin sat on his heels before his husband’s sitting chair, tears clinging to his eyelashes as he stared up at Yoongi’s blissed-out face. The cock in his mouth was so warm and thick, and as he closed his lips around its girth, Jimin let himself whimper a little. He bobbed his head, pushing it toward the back of his throat. He couldn’t fit the whole thing in, of course, so he used his hands to stroke and pleasure the rest of it. He popped off momentarily and nuzzled his face against Yoongi’s testicles, taking one into his mouth to suckle gently as he rolled the other between his fingers in little massaging movements.

“Jimin.”

Yoongi’s voice was like a sigh. Jimin was always fascinated at how differently Yoongi displayed his enjoyment of their intimate activities. Whereas Jimin often became frantic and overwhelmed, loud and whiny, Yoongi was usually calm until just before he came. His voice would go deep, his muscles would tense, sometimes he would struggle to speak like he was holding himself back, but where Jimin was delicate, he was firm, and where Jimin was sensitive, he was powerful.

Yoongi’s hand found its way into Jimin’s hair, combing through a few times before settling at the back of his head. He guided Jimin back to his cock and groaned lowly when Jimin dipped the tip of his tongue between his foreskin and head.

It was rather calming, Jimin thought, pleasuring Yoongi like this. That soft buzz at the back of his mind hovered but didn’t take over, and he could just take his time and enjoy the heavy feel of his husband’s penis on his tongue.

“You’re killing me,” Yoongi laughed suddenly.

Jimin’s eyes darted up toward his face, where Yoongi was looking down at him with a torn expression. Almost disbelieving, but amused.

Jimin didn’t want to pull his mouth off, so he only raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“I’ve been so fucking close to coming, sweetheart. I don’t think anyone’s dragged this out so long.”

Jimin frowned, wondering if he was doing it wrong, after all.

“No, no,” Yoongi soothed, his fingers carding through Jimin’s hair again. “You’re perfect. I just—” he grimaced abruptly, “when I come, I gotta warn you it’s gonna be intense.”

Oh. Jimin couldn’t smile, but he would have if his mouth had been free. So he was doing it right. Yoongi was so good at making Jimin feel amazing; he wanted to reciprocate somehow. He resumed bobbing his head and sucking occasionally until abruptly Yoongi swore loudly.

“Jimin,” he warned. “Sweetheart, I’m close.”

Jimin choked when Yoongi involuntarily jolted, sending his cock deeper. But the moan Yoongi let out spurred Jimin on, and the next time he bobbed his head, he purposely pushed it deeper. He gagged, and the inside of his nose burned slightly like when he accidentally swallowed a drink the wrong way, but Jimin tried to ignore it. The sounds coming from his mouth were very strange, now, and honestly rather unpleasant to the ear, but Yoongi didn’t seem to notice. He’d thrown his head back, Adam’s apple bobbing prominently, and he swore colorfully when Jimin gagged one more time and then choked off a whine when his nose pressed into Yoongi’s course pubic hairs, with the very end of his husband’s cock caught inside his throat.

It was a little frightening, but Jimin realized he loved it, eyes rolling slightly as he stayed there for a moment, swallowing—

“FUCK!”

—and drooling around the thick length. There was a crude, wet pop as Yoongi came back out of Jimin’s throat, and then suddenly thick, goopy liquid was gushing into his mouth. Coating his tongue and the roof of his mouth, filling up his cheeks. Jimin didn’t swallow it, and instead let it accumulate in his mouth as he rubbed his tongue along the underside of Yoongi’s cock to milk Yoongi for all he had.

When Yoongi took his cock in hand and withdrew it from Jimin’s mouth, a single rope of white connected his lips to the tip for a second before it broke and several drops spilled over Jimin’s lower lip.

Yoongi’s eyes were wide, and his chest heaved.

“Are you going to swallow all that?” he whispered. “Or do you want to spit it out?”

Jimin blinked up at him and then closed his mouth, lifting his tongue through the cum to the top of his mouth to feel the unusual, slimy texture against his palate before bracing himself and swallowing. His nose wrinkled slightly when he realized that there was still a little cum in his mouth, so he swallowed again, this time licking the spillage from his lips and the corner of his mouth.

Yoongi shook his head as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. “You’re such a good boy,” he breathed out.

Jimin’s eyes widened. He let himself be pulled up to his feet and then maneuvered to sit somewhat awkwardly upon Yoongi’s lap in the chair that wasn’t quite large enough for the both of them.

“A…good boy?” Jimin asked, a little confused but also pleased.

Yoongi chuckled and used his thumb to wipe the last remnants of cum from Jimin’s chin. “Yes; sorry, I probably shouldn’t have—it was meant as a compliment.”

Jimin nodded, and then leaned in for a soft kiss. “I liked it,” he whispered. “All of it.”

Yoongi heaved a sigh and wrapped his arms around him to let Jimin settle against his shoulder.

 

*

 

 

Notes:

I promise it's not going to just be all sex from now on lol!! Next chapter is Christmas!!! (I hope you'll enjoy that despite it probably being March by the time the chapter is posted. XD)

Chapter 8: Chapter VIII

Notes:

I apologize for the delay in posting this chapter. I've been both incredibly busy and really not in the mood for writing about Christmas at this time of year whenever I did have time to write, despite being so excited about this chapter since OCTOBER of last year. However, in the past two days, I've magically managed to write the last 7,000 words of this chapter, so I can FINALLY update and keep this story moving along!

If you're still here with me, thank you for your patience. I really appreciate it. Every time I received a comment asking me when I was going to update, or asking if I abandoned this fic, I felt so discouraged and frankly irritated with the people who brought it up, because abandoning this fic didn't even occur to me. Time flies away from me on a regular basis and I didn't even realize that more than two months had passed since I last updated. I've had vacations, multi-day work conferences, multiple major deadlines, and now preparations for upcoming business trips, and I just...my life doesn't revolve around my fics, as much as I wish it did! So to the people who were patient, thank you, and to everyone else, please learn some patience and tact. That's all I ask. 🥺

Anyway, I hope you are all in the mood for some Christmas, because that's pretty much all that this chapter is about. :D I've included a link to the Youtube video of piano Christmas music I listened to while writing to help get me in the right mood even though it's been warm and there are flowers everywhere outside now...

Enjoy!

(Christmas instrumentals for ambiance)

 

Chapter VIII

 

Life, as it usually did, returned to normal. Winter released them from its jaws for several days—almost cruelly giving them the most beautiful, warm sunshine on Jimin’s mother’s death anniversary. He and Yoongi went for a walk together with no purpose other than to be outside in nature. As they trudged through the snow, Jimin told Yoongi about the good memories he had of his mother, and of his father.

Yoongi seemed to understand how he felt; Jimin still held love for his father despite how his true self had been suppressed for all those years. After all, although Jimin’s father had been stern and opinionated, with many of those opinions colliding with Jimin’s own, his father had loved and cared for him in the way he knew how. He had been a strict father, but not a terribly unkind father. He had never raised his hand against Jimin, or at least not since he was a child, as most parents did for discipline. Jimin, though, hadn’t misbehaved much to warrant much discipline, anyway.

Jimin’s mother had always gone along with what his father had said. But she had been gentler with Jimin, more loving, and Jimin had spent many wonderful afternoons with her when his father was away at work.

Eventually, the stories faded off, and the couple simply hiked in companionable silence. Jimin enjoyed watching the little birds flitting about the trees and bushes as they picked at berries, bark, and the seeds still clinging to dormant plants. They walked along the river for a little ways. The gurgling of the water was a calming sound.

Once they returned from the walk, Jimin warmed himself up a bit inside by the fire, and then he went back out to his workshop to focus on his projects and the upcoming holiday.

 

Jimin and Yoongi went into town one last time before the end of the year. In addition to loading up the wagon with salted and dried meat and furs to sell, they had packed some of Jimin’s woodwork; a couple of little boxes for jewelry and a few of his first wooden reliefs he wanted to see if anyone would buy. Yoongi and Jimin were also armed with a long list and the intention to do a little individual Christmas shopping.

Jimin helped Yoongi outfit the wagon with the winter sleigh runners now that it seemed they would have snow covering the ground for the rest of the winter. After everything else was loaded, they piled up blankets and a great bison pelt with which to wrap around themselves.

At first, Jimin sat properly upon the wagon bench beside Yoongi as they rode along the snowy road, but after a while he couldn’t help leaning up against his husband, drawing the blanket and pelt up to hold in the heat around them. Yoongi only glanced down briefly at him, readjusted his posture a little to accommodate Jimin’s presence, and then returned his attention to the horses.

Jimin stared off over the landscape. It was snowy-white but peppered with gray and brown where bare trees and bushes were visible. The occasional evergreen along the hillsides added just a dash of contrast. It was one of those grayish days where the clouds were low but somewhat puffy, the sun shining between the thinner spots like gleaming molten silver. There were only a few small glimpses of blue sky beyond.

When they reached town, the peacefulness of the countryside disappeared immediately. Jimin’s eyes lit up when he realized that although not much had changed out in their little haven alone in the middle of nowhere, the buildings in town were decked out for Christmas. Wreaths, garlands, ribbons… Other than the dirty tracks along the roads, it was beautiful. Suddenly he began to feel a little festive spirit blossom within him.

Rather than people setting up their goods in the common, there were wagons parked throughout the town along the sides of the street so that people could easily go back into the buildings to warm up. The provisions store seemed to be bursting at the seams with more unique products than usual, and Jimin waved at Suran as she stood outside the store at a table full of sweets and toys to entice the children over. Many of the stalls displayed holiday treats or goods; beautiful scarves and shawls, jewelry, toys, cheeses and breads… Everyone seemed to be very cheerful, as well. There were many smiles about, and bursts of laughter here and there.

After setting up, Jimin and Yoongi took turns to stay with the wagon while the other walked around to look at the other stalls.

“You go on,” Yoongi urged him, rearranging their usual display.

Jimin tugged his coat and scarf tighter around himself and then gave his husband a little wave as he stepped away. He had a small purse of money with him that Yoongi had given him. Hopefully he would find something nice for his husband for Christmas. Jimin wasn’t really sure what he should get; Yoongi never seemed to be in need of anything, and he never seemed to be interested in any sorts of self-indulgence or luxuries.

Even things like handsome scarves wouldn’t do for a gift; a scarf would be dangerous for Yoongi to be wearing outside as he worked with the horses. Jimin considered getting him a new hat, since he only ever wore one to keep the sun out of his eyes, but there weren’t any that seemed right. He didn’t need new gloves, either, as the ones he had currently were still plenty fine.

Jimin moved around the stalls, stopping to chat with people he recognized from the usual common market. He didn’t see Taehyung out with his candles, but perhaps he was inside the saloon. Jimin glanced back at Yoongi to see he was pocketing some money as someone stepped away with a package of salted meat.

He needed to find something for Yoongi. Something nice. Jimin stepped into the provisions store, breathing in the strong smell of cinnamon that met his nose. It was festive inside, with more garlands hanging about. There was even a small Christmas tree sitting upon the counter in the back. It was adorned with wooden beads, ribbons, wrapped candies, and various children’s toys.

“Are you looking for gifts, or for supplies, Mr. Min?” Suran’s voice spoke up to his side. Jimin turned to her, smiling.

“I haven’t any idea what to give Yoongi for Christmas,” he shook his head. “He wants for nothing, and silly little luxuries will mean nothing to him.”

Suran hummed and looked around, skirts swishing. “What about…a gift to replace something old or broken? I do know your husband is less likely to replace things until he can’t fix them anymore. But new things are always nice.”

“I had thought about a hat, but…”

“What about something he uses? New tools?”

Jimin hummed noncommittedly. He didn’t like the idea of simply giving Yoongi something so…common. It needed to be special, somehow.

He looked around, conscious of how much time he was spending, leaving Yoongi alone at the stall. Just as he was about to give up, Jimin came upon the gentlemen’s kits. There were some lovely shaving kits with fresh brushes, razors, strops for sharpening the razors, and shaving soap. Jimin had taken to helping Yoongi shave his face, as his husband preferred a close shave, and he couldn’t always see all parts of his jaw in the mirror if the light wasn’t good. They each had their own shaving kits at home, and Jimin’s, though unremarkable, was barely three years old. Yoongi’s had clearly seen better days.

Jimin lingered and considered the kit for a few minutes. He didn’t think Yoongi had any sentimental attachment to his current kit. And if Jimin were to receive such a nice shaving kit, he knew he would be appreciative.

He picked up the box and brought it up to the counter.

“I’ll take this, Miss Suran,” he patted the top.

“Do you need a satchel or nice paper for wrapping?”

“Oh, that would be nice, thanks.”

She showed him the festive sheets of paper they had, and after some consideration he picked out a sophisticated red paper and some gold ribbon. He put everything into the bag he carried, safely out of sight.

“I may be back later with Yoongi for supplies,” he smiled and nodded at her as he headed back out.

On the way back to the wagon, Jimin paused at a stall full of cosmetics. There were lotions, creams, soaps, potpourri, and even a few oils and salts. The containers themselves looked expensive with their ornate decorations. It was clear that the products were meant for women, but Jimin couldn’t help pick up a few and open them to smell. Some were very strong, tickling the inside of his nose, while others were more subtle and soothing.

One of the hand and face creams was particularly nice, Jimin thought. It seemed to have notes of jasmine, lemon, and peony. It made him think of warmer days, walking by flower shops in the city. He lingered on the hand cream, but the price was steep, and even though he kept returning to that one particular cream, in the end he set it back with an apologetic nod to the woman behind the stall before he stepped away.

“You sold some of your jewelry boxes and reliefs,” Yoongi said as Jimin rejoined him. Their stall was already nearly empty, to Jimin’s surprise.

“Was I gone that long?” he asked, worried.

Yoongi shook his head. “No, no; but there was a small crowd that came out of the saloon, and they snatched up most of the meat.” He handed Jimin a small satchel.

“What’s this?” Jimin frowned. He could tell it was filled with coins.

“Your earnings,” Yoongi said cheerfully.

“Oh,” Jimin peeked inside the bag briefly, feeling a little embarrassed. “You didn’t need to separate it from yours.”

But Yoongi shook his head. “It’s your hard work. Your earnings.”

Jimin smiled and then gave into his urge to kiss Yoongi—just a peck on the lips, but still more than what he would usually do in public.

Yoongi left to do his own shopping. Barely a few minutes after Yoongi had left, a familiar voice called out to Jimin just as he was sending an older woman away with one of his jewelry boxes. Jimin glanced up to see Taehyung striding toward him with a wide smile.

“I’ve missed you!” the other man exclaimed, coming around to envelope Jimin in a sudden embrace.

“It has been too long,” Jimin agreed.

“That’s what winter does, I guess,” Taehyung said morosely. “How have you been? Married life still treating you well? Still tolerating your husband?” His eyebrows wiggled a little, causing Jimin to feel his cheeks heat a little.

There was no one nearby, but Jimin still lowered his voice and leaned a little closer. “I told Yoongi,” he murmured.

Taehyung’s eyes widened. “Oh? How did that go?”

“He was shocked, of course. But then he was so understanding, and he wasn’t mad at me at all. I thought he would get angry with me for lying to him.”

Taehyung waved a hand dismissively. “You didn’t lie; you just omitted a few things here and there.” He paused, nodding to himself for a moment, looking over the woodcarvings on the table.

Jimin lowered his voice even more, eyes on the square. “We also…we finally did it,” he revealed.

Taehyung sucked in his breath and slyly peeked at him quickly before returning his attention to the table, picking up a relief and pretending to examine it. “And? Did it go well? Did you enjoy it?”

Jimin fought to contain the embarrassed smile that threatened to spread across his lips. “Very much so. He…is very skilled. I never expected it to feel so wonderful. I admit we perhaps do it far too often, now.”

Taehyung guffawed, slapping him on the back unexpectedly. “I knew it.” He shook his head. “Oh, to be married and enjoy such pleasures on the daily.”

Jimin laughed. “Not daily! My goodness.”

“Well why not? I would if I had such a man available and willing.”

Jimin didn’t grace him with a response, only shoving him a little before straightening up as a couple approached the stall. Taehyung hovered as they hemmed and hawed and finally left after making a small purchase.

“I wanted to tell you,” Taehyung spoke up once they were gone, “I’m planning to travel up to Butte for a month, maybe two. Over the holidays, at least.”

Jimin turned in surprise. “To Butte? Now? But what about the snow?” There was no train connecting them to the large city north, so it was probably about a two-day ride if everything went smoothly.

“Yes, we plan to head out before the big snows come.”

“We? Are your brothers going with you, too? What about the saloon?”

Taehyung looked shifty for a moment.

Jimin frowned. Not his brothers, then. “Are you going with someone? Who?”

“Oh, just a friend of mine. A lover,” Taehyung amended hastily.

“A lover?” Jimin couldn’t wrap his head around it. Taehyung never seemed to stick to one lover; mostly because they didn’t stick around town for long.

“Yes, a lover. You know how I feel trapped here,” he shrugged. “I want some adventure. There’s no adventure here. It’s just the same, day in, day out. And being with him is…exciting.” He paused, his mind clearly going in an improper direction before his gaze refocused. “He invited me to go with him when he heads back up to Butte.”

“And you’ll stay with him? This lover of yours?”

“Yes.”

Jimin stared hard at Taehyung. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Taehyung to be smart about his safety. He knew the other man was clever and resourceful, and not someone who would blindly trust others without good reason.

“I only just got to see you again, and already you’re leaving,” Jimin said finally.

“I’ll be back, promise.” Taehyung pulled him close again. “It’s only during the worst of the winter. Then I’ll be back. You won’t hardly notice my absence, since you’ll be too busy enjoying your husband’s company,” he whispered slyly.

“I will still worry after you,” Jimin insisted.

“I’ll send telegrams, and if you come back to town, you can ask after me from Jin. It’s too bad there are no telephones here yet. I’m keen to see how those work. Imagine, hearing each other’s voices even if we are miles upon miles apart?” His eyes were bright, imagining the magic of such advanced technology.

“I’m sure it’s very expensive. And certainly no progress will be done until spring when the snow ends, at least.”

They chatted some more before Taehyung had to leave. They shared another tight embrace, Jimin trying to not worry too much about when or whether he would see Taehyung again. Anything was possible out here.

 

*

 

Yoongi waited until Jimin was occupied with people at their stall before he slipped over to the stall where he’d noticed Jimin lingering for quite a while without buying anything. When he stepped up to the woman’s table, he realized it was full of expensive cosmetics and soaps that must have been brought there by train or stagecoach. They certainly weren’t locally made, Yoongi thought.

He greeted the woman. “Do you see the man over there?” Yoongi gestured toward where Jimin was standing, chatting with someone looking at one of his jewelry boxes.

The woman glanced over, briefly, and nodded. “Aye, sir?”

“He was over here, looking at something of yours. He was here for a while, but didn’t buy anything. Do you recall what it was?”

Understanding filled her eyes, and she grinned. “Gift shopping, are we?”

Yoongi nodded. “Do you remember what he had been looking at here?”

She laughed, and then pointed at one of the face creams. “This one, here. He kept coming back to this one, I remember.”

Yoongi picked it up and opened the lid to take a brief whiff. It was floral, and a little sweet, in a gentle way. A lady’s face and hand cream. No wonder Jimin hadn’t bought it.

“I’ll take it, please.”

“Very good, sir.”

After Yoongi handed over the money, she slipped the cream into an equally exquisite little bag, which he then quickly tucked into a pocket.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Yoongi continued with his shopping, picking up a few small trinkets for Frankie, Alex, and Marie, and then went into the provisions store to get his usual supply. He realized after setting everything onto the counter than he wouldn’t be able to carry it back on his own, so he asked Suran to hold what he couldn’t carry, and he’d be back with Jimin.

There were only a few things left on their table when Yoongi returned to Jimin.

“Let’s pack these up,” Yoongi suggested. “Let’s look around a bit more together, and then I’ve left some purchases at the provisions store I couldn’t carry back on my own.”

By the time they were making their way back home, the wagon not only had all their supplies, but also some fancy glass ornaments Yoongi had noticed Jimin eyeing. He’d had to convince his husband it wasn’t too much trouble to buy them. Jimin still seemed not used to buying things, but Yoongi just gave him a little nudge whenever he saw him holding back on things he really wanted.

“We can look for a tree in the next few days,” Yoongi mentioned.

“A tree?” Jimin looked up, frowning slightly. Then understanding crossed his face. “Oh! A Christmas tree?” A bright smile lit up his face. “Really?”

Yoongi grunted. “Well I don’t see why not. Winter’s going to be long, and dark, and we might as well celebrate while we can.” Yoongi had never bothered with a Christmas tree. Having been on the move most of his life, it wasn’t something he’d really thought about before.

Jimin sat up straighter, looking youthfully excited. “Maybe I could make garlands, too!”

The next few days moved quickly despite the usual slow, dragging pace of winter. They cut down a small evergreen tree and set it up in a weighted bucket with wooden braces to hold the tree up. They had to move the writing desk out of the way to make room for it, but once it was up Yoongi would begrudgingly agree it was a nice change.

“Next year we can buy an iron tree stand,” Yoongi groaned, lying on the floor under the tree as he struggled to arrange the tree so it would stay standing. Afterward, they filled up the bucket with water in hopes that the tree wouldn’t die so quickly.

“Good idea.” Jimin held out his hand to help Yoongi back to his feet, and they both stood back to survey their work.

“It’s still a little lopsided,” Yoongi thought aloud.

“I think it’s fine. It won’t fall over,” Jimin shook his head. He smiled up at Yoongi, eyes sparkling. “Let’s decorate it!”

They spent the evening adorning the tree. They hung some orange slices they had dried earlier on the branches, and they sat cross-legged on the floor together as they strung popcorn on a string (while eating quite a lot from the bowl) before winding it around the tree. Finally they tied some red ribbons onto the tree.

“It would look so lovely with candles,” Jimin mused somewhat sadly. “I didn’t think to look for candle clips in town.

“No candles on the tree,” Yoongi said firmly without even missing a beat.

“What—why not?”

“It’s not safe,” Yoongi pointed out. “There was a farmhouse that burned down one year because of the candles on the tree. No candles.”

Jimin looked surprised, but didn’t argue.

He also didn’t argue when Yoongi pulled him in by the waist to kiss slowly and deeply.

 

*

 

As it drew closer to Christmas, Jimin spent time weaving together garlands and a wreath to hang on their front door. He adorned the garlands and wreath with pine cones and sprigs of holly berries, and then on one afternoon when visiting the Jungs, Frankie and Alex showed him the crystal ornaments they had created in school during a science lesson.

“It’s just alum in boiled water,” Frankie explained seriously, showing off his crystal-covered bound sticks in the shape of a snowflake.

“You gotta wait two days,” Alex piped up. “Don’t forget that part. “It takes two days to grow!”

“I know; I was getting to that part,” Frankie pouted. “I didn’t forget!”

“Yes you did! You always forget the important part!”

“I did not!”

“Did too!”

“Boys!” Becky’s sharp no-nonsense voice cut through the kitchen. “What did I say about arguing?”

“He started it,” both boys said at the same time.

Jimin’s eyes caught Becky’s for a moment, and he fought the smile as she just roll her eyes.

“If you keep arguing like that, Santa Claus won’t come at all, you hear?”

There were three gasps, and then Marie started crying loudly. It took only a minute for her to become inconsolable, upset at the prospect of Santa Claus not visiting their house for Christmas, all because her big brothers couldn’t get along.

Yoongi came out of nowhere and pulled Jimin from the kitchen. “Thank god we can’t have children,” Yoongi shook his head, laughing quietly as he took advantage of the momentarily empty living room to slip his hands under Jimin’s shirt and kiss him  quickly.

Jimin grinned, wrapping his arms tightly around Yoongi’s shoulders. He knew that as much as Yoongi made rude comments about the children’s bickering and quarrelling, he wouldn’t hesitate to jump in front of a cattle stampede to save the three Jung children if he had to.

It was already dark by the time they headed back home even though it wasn’t even supper time. The sky wasn’t fully clear due to the low fog hanging in the valley, clinging to the trees. It had been a little warm that day, and as the temperature dropped, a low mist began to form. But as Jimin looked up higher, beyond the white-gray mist, he could see the indigo sky and the sparkling stars above. Thin clouds moved across the sky, hiding the stars for a moment and then revealing them again a few seconds later.

Jimin had started taking a short moment each night as the stars came out to stargaze and learn the positions of the stars. Partly because he was just curious of the names and stories, partly because he knew that out here, it could be something that could save his life if he knew how to read the stars. He never failed to be in awe of the way he could see the Milky Way spread across the sky so clearly. Life was full of grit and cuts and splinters, but above them was magic, and he never tired of staring up at the river in the sky.

The following morning, Jimin went out to collect a few small pieces of nature. A bit of a pine branch, a bare branch, a pine cone, and some holly berries and leaves. He boiled some water and poured it into a bowl of alum, stirring it until the white powder disappeared. He then poured the mixture into jars and dipped the individual items into the liquid. He was suspending the holly leaf to a stick across the top of the jar’s rim when he heard Yoongi’s footsteps enter the kitchen.

“What’s this?” his husband laughed, coming over to stand by the table.

“I thought it might be fun to try that crystal experiment that the children did in school,” he said.

“And what will you do with them afterward?”

Jimin glanced up at him, raising his eyebrows. “Hang them on the tree, of course!”

“Ah, of course. My apologies.”

Jimin could tell Yoongi was amused, but he didn’t let it bother him. “I was thinking of making icicles with some string, as well. I’m not sure how to get the string to stay straight, though.”

Yoongi hummed, reaching out to pick up some string. He pulled it tight and let it hang, but of course it didn’t hang perfectly straight. “You could…what if you tie it to a weight, and then cut the weight off after it hardens?”

“A weight?” Jimin looked around. “Oh. Maybe a piece of scrap wood, or perhaps a nail? Do we have any inside?”

Yoongi shrugged. “I can go out to the stable and get some. How many do you want?”

While Yoongi bundled up and headed outside, Jimin brought some more, taller jars from the cellar and filled them with a fresh batch of the alum solution right as Yoongi’s stomping feet could be heard out on the porch.

Jimin startled when cold fingers touched the back of his neck.

“Yoongi!” he exclaimed, shivering turning quickly and shuddering at the unexpected chill. His husband only smirked at him, holding out a handful of random small objects that could be used as weights.

Yoongi sat down to watch as Jimin carefully tied up the weights and dipped them into the jars.

“How long’s this supposed to take?” he asked after a moment, as Jimin slid all of the jars to the far side of the table along the wall.

“According to Alex, two days.”

“Aha.”

Jimin looked up at him. “Don’t make fun of me.”

Yoongi shook his head and lifted his hands up in surrender. “I’m not!” But the grin on his face said otherwise.

Pouting, Jimin stepped over to him. “I just thought it would be fun to try. You think it’s childish, don’t you.”

Yoongi put both hands on Jimin’s hips and drew him closer. “I think it’s endearing. If it makes you happy, you can do as many experiments as you want. Within reason, of course.”

 

*

 

The chill of winter returned just before Christmas, and a fresh coating of snow spread over the dirty, ashy paths and lane. Jimin and Yoongi were kept busy with their respective responsibilities as Yoongi stocked up their supply of firewood and filled their store of meat. Jimin took a break from working on his woodwork, preferring the warmth of the house. He kept a few small reliefs to practice on inside, but he didn’t spend so much time on them.

Jimin, although still not particularly skilled in the kitchen, had learned a thing or two from Becky on how to bake a few types of bread, and he tried a few soup recipes to make for Yoongi and himself with which to eat the soups. He was limited to what they had in their cellar, but even so he was able to make some tasty soups for them to enjoy.

In the evening, the two would read by the fire together. (Or rather, they might have started reading, but shifted to kissing and cuddling.

On Christmas Eve, Yoongi and Jimin hitched up the horses, packed up the wagon, and headed over to the Jungs’. It was just past midday, and light flurries floated down from the sky.

It was warm and brightly lit inside the Jungs' house. The scent of cooking meat and baking bread immediately filled Jimin’s nostrils.

"Merry Christmas!" Hoseok exclaimed, stepping to the side to allow Jimin and Yoongi to come inside and remove their coats.

Almost immediately multiple shouts from the children came from the other room, and soon the quiet was replaced by merriment and chatter. Jimin found himself unable to stop smiling and laughing as he and Yoongi joined in on the party. The day was spent playing games, eating treats and snacks, sharing stories, and Hoseok even pulled out a few hand instruments for them to play and sing together for some rounds of dancing. The children excitedly opened the small gifts Yoongi had prepared for them.

Yoongi joined Becky in the kitchen at one point, returning with mugs of something hot and foamy, and smelling of alcohol.

“What’s this?” Jimin asked as he took one mug. Besides the alcohol, it simply smelled delicious, like a sweet dessert custard.

“It’s a Tom and Jerry,” Yoongi replied.

“Oh! I’ve heard of those,” Jimin nodded, bringing the mug closer to his face for a better sniff. “It smells so good! I’ve never had one before, though.”

“A friend of mine taught me the recipe some years back. I usually make a point to enjoy a mug or two at Christmas.”

Seeing that all four adults had their own mugs, while the children had miniature mugs that looked suspiciously different yet still similarly fluffy on top, Jimin raised his own in cheers before bringing it back to take a sip. The first thing he noticed was how fluffy the texture was, his eyebrows rising in surprise. Then his mouth was filled with hot, sweet liquid with so many different flavors all at once. He could taste egg, and nutmeg, and milk, along with a combination of alcohols that sent a nice burn down his throat to his belly.

He looked up from his mug to see Yoongi waiting expectantly.

“Like it?”

Jimin nodded, licking foam from his upper lip. He saw the children each had identical white moustaches and grinned. “It’s delicious! I think I tasted rum? And something else?”

Yoongi took a sip from his own mug before answering. “Rum and brandy.”

Jimin was feeling light, cozy, and tipsy as they all enjoyed even more food for an early dinner.

“How does everyone feel about having their photographs taken?” Hoseok asked loudly, all of a sudden.

Jimin looked up, confused partly because of how swirly his head felt, but also because it just didn’t make sense. Was Hoseok hiding a photographer? Or did he mean for them to all go into town at another time to take photographs?

“What are you on about?” Yoongi asked, voice equally boisterous.

“My brother sent us a special gift,” Becky said, cheeks bright and rosy. She and Hoseok had shared many a kiss throughout the day, and Jimin could tell there would be many more to come.

“Not a—"

“A Kodak Number One!” Hoseok and Yoongi exclaimed at the same time.

“A what?”

“A camera!”

After a moment, Jimin could see that it was a camera—although it was certainly much smaller of a camera than he’d ever seen before. It was a rectangular wooden box, only about the size of a butter dish. There was a circular lens on the front, a metal crank on top, a small knob up front on top, and a button on the side.

Yoongi gave a low whistle. “How much did he pay for that?”

“They’re going for twenty-five dollars,” Hoseok replied, and Jimin choked on the mouthful of potato he had in his mouth at the moment.

“Twenty-five dollars?” he gasped. “For that little box?”

“And how do you get the photographs?” Yoongi frowned, turning it over in his hands carefully. “I saw the advertisements in the newspaper, but I admit I didn’t look too closely once I saw the price tag.”

“It comes with a roll of film paper that’ll take one hundred photographs. And once you’ve filled up the roll, you mail the camera back to Rochester, New York along with ten bucks, where they’ll develop all your photographs, fix it up with a new roll, and mail the photographs and camera back!”

It was quiet for a moment as they all looked over the camera in awe. But then Hoseok piped up again.

“Let’s take some photographs!”

So, before they became even more stuffed with dessert, everyone flooded back into the brightly light sitting room where their tree was. Hoseok showed Yoongi how to use the camera, and Jimin watched in fascination as the Jung family got themselves situated properly in front of their Christmas tree and waited as Yoongi pressed the button—the shutter—on the side of the camera with a loud click. Then he pulled the knob on the top which was attached to a string, and Jimin could hear a quick winding noise. The Jungs rearranged themselves, and then Yoongi took another photo.

“Let’s get some of you and Jimin,” Hoseok exclaimed once the children had run off to play again and Yoongi had taken one of just Becky and Hoseok together.

Jimin took Yoongi’s hand as they stepped over to switch spots with the Jung couple. They stood seriously beside each other for the photograph. Jimin startled slightly when he felt Yoongi shift and wrap his arms around him from behind, holding him in a very intimate way. Feeling the strong blush fill his cheeks, Jimin couldn’t help the smile that spread across his lips as he stared at the camera lens.

“Might be a while before we get to see if they turn out,” Hoseok commented as he covered the lens with the felted cap and tucked the camera back into its special leather case, “but it’ll be a nice treat to see later next year maybe when we fill it up and send it back for developing.”

They finished the evening with pudding and tarts, and more cocktails. Jimin was positively buzzing and warm by the time he and Yoongi stumbled back to their wagon—well, Yoongi didn’t do nearly as much stumbling as Jimin did—and made their way home. When they finally reentered their dark and cold home, they were both tired but happy.

“Merry Christmas,” Jimin mumbled sleepily as he climbed into bed not much later. It wasn’t nearly their usual bedtime, but there was no reason to stay up, and Jimin could feel himself sinking toward sleep quickly.

Yoongi kissed him lightly as he pulled the blankets over them both in the darkness. “Merry Christmas. Did you have a good time this evening?”

Jimin smiled widely, eyes closed. “Mhmm. It was even more fun than I imagined.” He shifted closer under the covers, reaching blindly for his husband. “’Nother kiss,” he demanded quietly.

He felt the mattress dip as Yoongi lifted himself over Jimin and then pressed his warm lips to his. Yoongi kissed softly at first, and then slipped his tongue inside. Jimin let out a little whimpering sigh and kissed back, tired but needy. They kissed and kissed, until Jimin’s sleepiness seemed to fade as tingles and heat flowed downward.

“Yoongi,” he moaned. “Can you—I want—want you inside me.”

Yoongi groaned and buried his face against Jimin’s neck for a moment, sucking particularly hard all of a sudden. One of his hands which had been resting over Jimin’s chest abruptly pinched his nipple through his shirt, making Jimin gasp.

“You sure? Right now?”

“Mhm. Please.”

Yoongi made an odd grunting, groaning noise. “I’ve wanted to fuck you all evening.”

Jimin’s insides curled in anticipation.

“Then do it. Please. I want it.”

 

*

 

It was a struggle to get Jimin’s clothing off. Yoongi kept stopping to taste him, licking and sucking at his skin. He couldn’t get enough, and the way that Jimin gasped and whimpered at every touch just urged him on even more. When Yoongi finally got his husband divested of his sleep clothes and his oiled fingers were knuckle-deep, threw his head back on the pillow and moaned Yoongi’s name.  

Yoongi pushed into the tight heat of Jimin’s hole, groaning at the way he really had to push in despite opening him up. Jimin let out a quiet moan, breath stuttering as Yoongi slowly bottomed out.

“I can feel you so deep,” Jimin breathed.

Yoongi leaned down to kiss him, nibbling at his lips and slipping his tongue into his mouth as he began to roll his hips to create a little stimulation. Jimin was so tight that even the smallest movements were sensitive. He made small sounds as Yoongi slowly fucked into him, as if every single touch sent an explosion of sensation through him, pushing him closer and closer to his orgasm.

Jimin lasted a while; Yoongi was vaguely surprised at the back of his mind, through the haze of arousal. The way he writhed, the way he truly sounded as if he was seconds away from coming…it drove Yoongi crazy. He leaned down and kissed Jimin hard, swallowing his moans and sinful whimpers, curling his tongue around Jimin’s.

He pressed Jimin’s thighs farther apart, rolling his hips deeper and faster, plunging in until the base every time, his other hand holding the younger man’s jaw still as he continued to kiss him. After a moment Yoongi pulled away so he could reach down again and hike up Jimin’s thighs, hooking them over his elbows.

In the light of the single candle Yoongi had lit, Jimin was a vision of the best kind of sin. Spread out so obscenely as Yoongi impaled him on his throbbing cock again and again. Mouth open wide as he cried out with every thrust. His swollen lips slick with saliva. Eyes barely open, rolled upwards. His small hands twitching and fumbling to hold onto something, anything, as Yoongi chased his pleasure. When Yoongi rubbed a particular spot, Jimin arched up, wailing, and in that shift of his body and sucking in of his stomach revealed something that made Yoongi feel a little wild inside. He could see where his cock was moving inside Jimin.

“Fuck.” Yoongi groaned deep, deep in his throat, and released one leg so he could reach out, pushing his palm down against Jimin’s stomach. He hitched up the one leg on his other elbow as he drew out and snapped his hips. Jimin let out a startled whine, and Yoongi felt him beginning to tremble and clench around him.

Jimin’s cock bounced with every thrust, looking particularly dark. It was dribbling precum onto his belly. Yoongi couldn’t resist wrapping his fist around it and squeezing tightly. The overwhelmed squeal Jimin made was worth it. Yoongi squeezed and stroked his throbbing little cock with one thumb, greatly enjoying the way Jimin tossed and turned and writhed beneath him.

There was very little warning before Jimin came. Quite suddenly, his voice became sharp and overwhelmed, as he if was going to sob, and then his entire body seized up strongly. His hole clenched around Yoongi’s cock, sucking him in deep, almost refusing to let him pull out. He felt the warm splashes of cum hit him in the stomach and a little up his chest.

Jimin gasped desperately, “Don’t stop.” His lips immediately found Yoongi’s, and when Yoongi managed to pull out and thrust back in—accidentally a little harder than he intended because he was getting too close to his own climax—the moan that Jimin let out was almost a scream, muffled only by Yoongi’s tongue and their slick lips.

Yoongi was so close. He could feel it, in the tightening in his balls, in the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears, and in the way he couldn’t really control the way he truly fucked into Jimin’s hole. His pace grew frantic and rough, and Jimin’s voice grew louder in pace with the wet slapping of their skin.

Yoongi had to break the kiss abruptly. Jimin immediately let out a sharp, vocal gasp, and then Yoongi’s vision exploded. He wasn’t sure what kind of noise he made; whether he groaned, or shouted, or was completely silent. But when he came to, he realized he had partially collapsed upon Jimin, still buried deep inside with his cock twitching and spilling cum into his husband. Both of them were heaving breaths of air as they tried to calm down.

“Yoongi,” Jimin whispered, voice a little raw and delicate.

“Hm?” Yoongi kissed the corner of his mouth and then ducked down to lick and suck at his throat, one of his thumbs circling and rubbing over one of Jimin’s nipples. He was still struggling to catch his breath, but he didn’t want to waste any time tasting every part of the other man.

“If—if you pull out now, I might—ah—I might come again.” The end of his sentence was almost a whine, and Yoongi pushed himself up onto his hands to look down at Jimin properly.

Sure enough, trapped between them, Jimin’s cock was flushed dark and hard again, cum dripping slowly from the tip. His abdomen below it was quivering and jolting, and Yoongi groaned quietly as he became aware of the way his cock was being squeezed. He was soft inside Jimin. He gingerly pulled out two inches.

Jimin startled, and swore quietly. Yoongi watched the way Jimin’s expression changed, settling slightly. Yoongi paused before drawing out another inch. Jimin hiccupped out a sob, that near-orgasm look coming over his face again. Then, in one final movement, Yoongi pulled completely out. Jimin choked on his own breath and shook as his second orgasm surged through him.

It was truly a glorious sight to behold. Past his own release, Yoongi was able to observe him fully; in the way he seemed to experience his orgasm across his entire body, cheeks flushed, kiss-swollen lips open as he gasped silently, hands reaching toward his face as if to cover it but not quite making it that far; they simply trembled midair before dropping limply to the pillow by his head. Tiny yet powerful tremors jolted Jimin’s entire body every few seconds, sometimes causing another dollop of cum to slip out of his cock before settling and allowing his body to relax. Yoongi’s cum dripped obscenely from Jimin’s stretched hole.

When his eyes reopened, they were smiling up at Yoongi, still filled with that ecstasy, but becoming warm and gentle as well.

He looked like a genuine piece of art. Yoongi leaned back down until they were nearly nose to nose, and he whispered, “You’re so beautiful.” He moved closer to Jimin’s ear, brushing his lips against it. “You’re beautiful all the time, but right now…flushed so perfectly, covered in your own cum…it’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever witnessed.”

Jimin shuddered as another quake coursed through him. Yoongi smiled and pressed his lips to Jimin’s cheek near his eye as he rested a palm upon Jimin’s diaphragm. When Yoongi went to gently stroke his fingers over Jimin’s belly, the younger man jolted, eyelids fluttering as his eyes rolled up slightly.

“Oh—” Jimin’s breathing quickened.

“All right, there?” Yoongi whispered, kissing the corner of his open mouth. He pressed his hand a little firmer as he rubbed soothingly, thinking that it would help to not be so ticklish, but Jimin’s breath stuttered again and he let out the most desperate and overwhelmed whimper Yoongi had ever heard, almost as if in pain. Yoongi paused.

“Jimin?”

Jimin didn’t respond at first, eyes hazy. But then he seemed to gulp in air and force himself to speak.

“I feel—I—” his eyelids fluttered again. “I like the, the way it feels.”

“The way what feels?” Yoongi kissed him on the temple this time. He held his hand still upon Jimin’s belly, feeling the way little tremors vibrated up through his palm ever so often.

A blush filled Jimin’s cheeks, and when he turned his head slightly to look into Yoongi’s eyes, he looked like he might even cry.

“I like it when you do that. When you, you continue to pleasure me even after I’ve orgasmed. Even when I’m too sensitive.”

Yoongi felt a faint thrill shiver down his spine. He recalled their past conversation about Jimin feeling hazy and floaty during and after sex. Most of Yoongi’s past lovers had not felt pleasure as intensely as Jimin seemed to. Something about that knowledge made Yoongi’s heart race and filled him with fresh arousal. He unconsciously pressed his palm down more firmly against Jimin’s stomach, and was rewarded by a soft moan.

“I like the way it makes me feel almost…” Jimin struggled to find the word he was looking for, mouthing up at Yoongi almost innocently. “Like I’m helpless,” he finished after a moment. “And my mind empties of all thoughts but you and how you’re making me feel. Sometimes…sometimes it makes me wonder…it makes me wonder how much I can take.” He finished on a whisper so quiet that Yoongi almost couldn’t hear him.

Yoongi could feel his cock starting to harden anew with the lewd, explicit images that began to fill his mind. Yoongi had never been of proper upbringing, and he had had a number of exciting lovers in the past while on the road. But Jimin was a separate entity all on his own. Settling down with one partner to remain with through old age might have at one point felt like signing up for monotony and routine, but with Jimin Yoongi kept learning something new; things that thrilled him and only increased his attraction, desire, and fondness for his husband.

Even in this moment, as Jimin described to him how he wanted to be pleasured beyond the point of pleasure, into something more intense and almost frightening, he had a sense of purity about the way he spoke. Nothing like the vulgar dirty talk Yoongi experienced with some past partners who wanted him to ruin them. No; with Jimin’s soft, gentle voice, his lovely face with watery eyes, and even his position on the bed with his hands held almost protectively close to his chest, there was nothing vulgar about him.

He was simply the embodiment of the purest of sin. And Yoongi loved every bit of it.

He leaned down to press their lips together and slowly penetrate Jimin’s mouth for a long minute or two. When he pulled away just enough to look into Jimin’s eyes, he asked, “Do you want me to do that to you right now?” To emphasize his question, Yoongi purposely stroked his fingers down Jimin’s stomach toward his cock.

Yoongi was rewarded by the sharp inhale and involuntary movement of Jimin’s thighs trying to snap shut.

“No?” Yoongi murmured, watching Jimin’s face carefully.

Jimin licked his lips, swallowed once, then twice, clearly struggling, and then finally he whispered, “Please. I want it.”

Yoongi sucked in a deep breath, not having realized he was holding his breath as he waited for Jimin’s answer. He smiled down at his beautiful, beautiful husband.

“Tell me if it’s too much, if you want me to stop,” he murmured.

“Is it okay?” Jimin seemed worried. “Do you want to—”

Yoongi huffed out a startled laugh. “Do I? Fuck. Jimin, I would be so fucking honored to make you feel such a sense of pleasure that you forget the world.” He brought his hand back up to briefly card through Jimin’s hair, moving it away from his face. “I don’t know how I got so lucky with a husband like you.”

Jimin smiled happily, his eyes nearly disappearing.

His smile disappeared quickly when Yoongi’s hand dropped to his chest and rolled his nipple between his thumb and forefinger. His eyes widened just slightly, and Yoongi could feel the way his breath paused.

“Remember to breathe, sweetheart,” Yoongi said, shifting his position slightly so he was more comfortable. Obediently, Jimin let out a shuddered breath and then resumed his regular—albeit overwhelmed—breathing.

Yoongi watched Jimin’s face carefully as he began to touch his body again. Enough time had passed during their conversation that Jimin wasn’t quite at the level of sensitivity as he had been before, but Yoongi was sure that it wouldn’t take long for him to reach that point again. He took his time, though, wanting to savor every moment, every expression. Just before he wrapped his hand around Jimin’s cock, Yoongi leaned down to capture his mouth. Kissing him deeply, he felt more than heard the way Jimin reflexively cried out when his hand finally fisted his already spent cock.

The next several minutes were like nothing Yoongi had experienced before. The sounds Jimin made as Yoongi pushed him toward a third orgasm filled his ears and enticed him. The way Jimin writhed on the bed, so much so that Yoongi had to use one hand to hold him down, was somewhat frightening but tickled at that dangerous part of Yoongi that had been mellowed over the years. And when Yoongi slicked himself back up and sank balls-deep into Jimin right in the middle of Jimin’s orgasm, his young husband arched up and screamed.

Yoongi groaned as he felt the way Jimin clenched so tightly around him, convulsing. Jimin wailed and cried out pure nonsense as Yoongi began to pull out and push back in, just barely managing to keep a watchful eye on Jimin’s face. Yoongi couldn’t bear the thought of actually hurting Jimin, but a wild sort of thrill overtook him as he gradually increased his pace.

“N-no—” Jimin squeezed his eyes shut, tears rolling down his cheeks. But when Yoongi paused, Jimin frantically scrabbled his hands to reach blindly toward Yoongi. “D-don’t stop,” he begged.

Reassured, Yoongi continued fucking him, pulling out for a brief couple of seconds just so he could fold Jimin’s legs over to one side and slide back in for an even tighter, adjusted angle. Jimin sobbed and dug his fingers into the mattress.

The wet slapping of their bodies meeting was almost disgusting; or it would be, if Yoongi had the presence of mind to think past how delicious it sounded in that moment. Oh, how he wanted to taste Jimin down there. Not right now, though. Maybe another time.

It took a while before Yoongi could feel his climax approaching. By that time, Jimin was smeared with his own cum, and his body was shaking with overstimulation as he whimpered and whined so delicately. Yoongi grimaced and tensed up completely when his release smashed into him. His muscles ached as he held himself up over Jimin, feeling the way his cock twitched and throbbed inside him with every surge of semen he expelled.

“F-fuck,” Yoongi gasped. One of his arms gave out, and he collapsed against Jimin.

Jimin was quietly crying, taking shuddering breaths.

“Jimin?” Yoongi murmured gently, brushing back his sweaty, messed up hair. “Are you okay, darling?”

Jimin choked out a little sob but nodded. His eyes opened, lashes clumped together with tears. “H-hold me?”

Yoongi let himself settle more against him, carefully pulling Jimin into his arms, almost cradling him protectively. It made his chest hurt to see Jimin cry like that, but when Jimin’s hiccups and tears seemed to quell, Jimin spoke again, quietly.

“Thank you.”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you. That—I felt so much. It was everything,” he buried his face in the crook of Yoongi’s neck, wrapping his arms tightly around Yoongi’s back. One, small, final tremor coursed through his body. “I don’t think…I don’t think I can do that too often,” he continued in a slightly slurred manner, “but maybe just…”

“On special occasions?” Yoongi offered.

Jimin nodded against him. “Yeah. Special…on special occasions. That…sounds perfect.”

It took only a moment of silence for Yoongi to realize Jimin had fallen asleep. Exhausted himself, Yoongi considered just letting himself sleep as well, but he could feel the slimy, sticky mess between and around them, and especially considering tomorrow morning was Christmas, he didn’t want Jimin waking up feeling awful.

So, he gave himself a few moments to relax and enjoy holding his husband before he gingerly untangled himself from him and stood up. He went into the washroom to clean himself up with icy water, and then he returned to the bedroom. Jimin looked glorious lying upon the bed as he was. Streaks and smears of white across his skin. Lips dark and plump from all of their kissing. Hands delicate where they rested upon his stomach and beside his chest. Limp, soft cock lying so very spent upon his groin.

Yoongi took one last, deep breath and gently put his hands upon Jimin’s knees to spread his thighs apart. Yoongi’s cum leaked out of Jimin’s abused hole. He stared at it for what was probably far too long, thought once again spiraling toward obscenities. He imagined how the sunlight might glisten upon Jimin’s sweat-covered body in the summer, instead of merely a flickering candle flame that barely did justice.

Yoongi silently and gently cleaned his husband as best as he could, and pulled the most soiled covering off of the bed. It took great effort to force himself to go again to find another blanket, but once that was upon the bed and Yoongi was back underneath the covers with his perfect husband in his arms, sleep came swiftly.

 

*

 

Wakefulness came to Jimin gradually, like pushing through a fog. He was wonderfully warm, with someone’s arms around him, and their solid, naked body against his.

“Nnghh,” he whined slightly, shifting against the body. It held him more firmly, and he snuggled in closer, breathing in the scent of salty sweat and musky sex.

His eyes opened.

“Good morning,” Yoongi smiled down at him. “Merry Christmas.”

Jimin blinked at him stupidly for a moment, wondering why he was struggling so much to resume cognition.

“How are you feeling?”

Jimin hummed when Yoongi’s fingers began to card through his hair. He thought about the question, taking stock of his own body as he slowly recalled the events of the night. He felt a confusing combination of invigoration and exhaustion. There was also a strong ache in his abdomen and he was sorer down below than he ever remembered being.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispered finally. “I’m…so…fucking sore,” he settled on. Yoongi’s laugh shook his entire body, and Jimin didn’t prevent the childish whine from filtering through his nose.

“That’s not surprising. You may want to be careful of how and where you sit today.”

“Mm.”

“Otherwise, you’re good?”

There was a bit of cloudiness in Jimin’s mind, but otherwise he felt nothing but contentedness. He nodded. “Just a bit…delicate, I think.”

Yoongi hummed. “We can take it easy today. Last night was…a lot. For me, too,” he added.

Jimin looked up at him, surprised. “For you?”

“Yeah.” Yoongi’s smile was gentle and fond, but there was also something else there that Jimin couldn’t quite place. Like a spark of something hidden. “I think, when you’re feeling more like yourself, we can talk more about this. I’d love to learn more about the things you enjoy, the things your curious about…” he glanced up at the window, where Jimin realized belatedly that he could see it was snowing heavily outside. “The winter is going to be long, and we’ll be stuck inside a considerable amount.”

Jimin felt a little twist in his belly at the implication he knew was coming.

“We’ll have lots of time to…get to know each other. And try things out.”

Jimin could feel the heat in his cheeks, and he bit his lip briefly before whispering, “You mean to say you’re going to fuck me all winter long?”

The smirk that appeared on Yoongi’s face was quick and devious, completely wiping his soft smile away. He touched his index finger to Jimin’s nose, causing him to go momentarily cross-eyed until the finger dropped down to rest upon Jimin’s lips.

“All winter long…into spring…summer, through autumn, and back to winter,” he raised his eyebrows as if in challenge.

“Yoongi—”

“Jimin.” Yoongi’s eyes were dancing with mirth, and Jimin couldn’t find it in himself to pretend he didn’t like the sound of what his husband was suggesting.

“You’re absolutely incorrigible.”

Yoongi tilted his head. “I wouldn’t say I was incorrigible,” he defended himself lightly and without much offense.

 

It took a while for them to rise from the bed, but the chill of the air and the twist of their empty bellies eventually became enough of an encouragement for them to leave the safety of the blankets. They built up the fires in the cookstove and fireplace, and while Yoongi went out to check on Chief and Sunny, Jimin brewed them coffee and baked some biscuits to eat with butter and jam. By the time Yoongi returned, the biscuits were almost done.

Instead of eating in the kitchen as usual, Yoongi brought out a large wooden tray upon which together they placed the butter dish, an assortment of jams, a knife and spoons, and the plate piled with the fresh, steaming biscuits. Jimin carried it into the sitting room to place upon the floor, and Yoongi brought in their coffee mugs.

“Merry Christmas, Jimin,” Yoongi said as he sat down upon the rug and held his hand out for Jimin to take as he sat down, as well.

Jimin laughed. “Merry Christmas, Yoongi. I thought you said you didn’t do much for the holiday?”

Yoongi shrugged. “I don’t. Or, I didn’t. I never really had much of a reason to care.”

Jimin glanced at him as he split open a biscuit and began to spread a generous amount of butter onto it. “And now you do?”

Yoongi scooted a little closer on the floor and gave Jimin’s waist a quick squeeze.

“Oh—” Jimin startled slightly at the almost instant rush of indecent thoughts that appeared in his mind.

“Maybe I do. It’s certainly a lot more fun with someone to share it with.”

They took their time leisurely eating—and sometimes feeding each other bites—as the morning passed. Only once they finished eating and started on their second cups of coffee did Yoongi nudge Jimin toward the two packages under the tree. Jimin passed Yoongi his own gift and took the small box he knew must be meant for himself.

Yoongi pulled Jimin in between his legs to settle back against his chest, and after a short debate of who should open their gift first, Jimin began to carefully untie the string around his gift. Inside the box was a small, pretty pouch, inside of which was something Jimin recognized immediately.

“Oh, Yoongi,” Jimin turned to look up at him quickly. “You—why did you—?” He felt an embarrassed flush heat up his neck and face. “But this is…this is a lady’s face and hand cream,” he said quietly, unable to push the mortification down.

Yoongi frowned. “Did you not want this? I thought—I saw you looking at it, and I thought it seemed like you wanted it.”

Jimin struggled with himself even as he lifted the top to reveal the fragrantly scented cream. It smelled so lovely.

“I…I do,” he admitted. “But is it not strange to you? This is a lady’s cream, Yoongi.”

“And?” Yoongi seemed entirely unbothered.

“And I’m not a lady. I’m a man, and I shouldn’t…should I not?” he ended, feeling confused himself.

“What does it matter, as long as you like it?” He took the little container out of Jimin’s hands and scooped out a tiny amount onto his finger. “Here. Give me your hands.”

Still confused, but starting to feel more pleased, Jimin held out both hands and watched in fascination as Yoongi rubbed the cream over and around Jimin’s hands until they were soft, smooth, and smelling of flowers.

“Beautiful.”

Jimin picked up Yoongi’s gift and pressed it into his hands. “Your turn. I’m afraid it’s not very exciting, though.”

Yoongi didn’t say anything as he unwrapped the gift. When the shaving kit was revealed, he stared down at it for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. Jimin couldn’t tell if it was disappointment or displeasure, though, and eventually he squirmed.

“I know it’s not—I mean, you have one already, but I thought the set you have is getting really quite old now, and I thought…well, you deserve to have a nice gentleman’s kit and not worry about cuts from that old razor.”

Yoongi took in a deep breath, his chest expanding, and then slowly let it out as he looked up at Jimin. There was something new in his eyes. Not wonderment, or even amusement, but instead it felt more like he was looking at Jimin with sharper eyes that took in more than just what was visible.

“Thank you. Sometimes I don’t realize how much you take care of me, too.”

Jimin immediately shook his head and looked down. “I don’t barely—”

“But you do.”

He lifted Jimin’s chin up with one finger.

“Well, I suppose I do, in a way.” At Yoongi’s single raised eyebrow, Jimin felt more confidence. “I wouldn’t have to if you’d just pay attention to yourself sometimes instead of worrying over me all the time.”

Yoongi snorted. “Don’t you dare tell me to not take care of my husband.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Oh?”

“No, I think—I think your husband quite enjoys being—”

“Spoiled?”

Jimin’s mouth dropped open as he instinctively prepared to deny it. But then he paused, and he paused too long, because Yoongi took advantage of the pause. Before he could blink, Jimin had been rolled onto his back on the floor, both wrists held down by Yoongi’s hands. Wide-eyed, Jimin breathed slowly but heavily as he stared up at his husband.

“Does my pretty little husband like being spoiled?” Yoongi sounded positively evil as he leaned down over Jimin, and Jimin…he loved it.

“Yes.”

His mouth was already open and tongue reaching out to meet Yoongi’s as he dove down to claim him.

 

*

 

 

Notes:

Those two are absolutely sickening. 😂🤣😳
I swear now that Christmas is over the story will get more interesting, lol. Also, I know that Christmas would have been more of a religious thing back then, but I am really not religious at all and don't particularly enjoy including that stuff in my writing, so I hope you didn't mind. Anyway, it WAS around that period where it started becoming more commercialized and materialized anyway. Believe me, I did loads of research on late 1800s Christmas over the past several months! (I hope you enjoyed the tiny sprinkles of actual history tossed in there. The Tom and Jerry cocktail was MEANT TO BE, I swear. I was literally only looking up Christmas cocktails from the 1800s when I saw that one, and I was like 'WHAT?? Tom and Jerry?!!!!!!!! Yoonmin! Yes!' And the alum thing...I did that in school as a child, but I had no idea it was all the rage in the late 1800s at Christmas! Apparently there were glittery, sparkling things ALL OVER the place at Christmas around that time.)

Chapter 9: Chapter IX

Notes:

(Edit after I already posted, lol: I forgot that a lot of you probably don't follow me on twt, so I wanted to give an update. People over there know that this was expected to be posted a long time ago, but what happened is that after I had a long business trip overseas, I caught covid for the first time ever...and was sick for nearly an entire week (aka sick with symptoms), which derailed other plans, so that by the time I had my scheduled time off I'd planned SPECIFICALLY to write...I had to use that time for other things I couldn't deal with when I was stuck at home, too sick to even write despite having loads of time to write. So that's why this chapter took forever. XD)

There are two things written in heavy amounts in this chapter: snow...and sex. 😆
Enjoy!

 

Chapter IX

 

Jimin rubbed his hands together, trying to get feeling back into his fingers. He’d been outside in the stable for a while now. Being stuck inside the house for so long every day had him feeling antsy, and he’d needed to get out, even if it meant being cold in the stable as he worked on some woodworking.

The new year had come and gone. There was no question that winter was now fully upon them.

The bison that passed through the valley didn’t seem to mind the weather at all. Their great, hulking dark forms moved slowly through the white, plowing through drifts to find grass to eat hidden under the snow. Sometimes, clumps of snow would cling to the longer, darker fur around their faces and fronts, making it look like they were sprinkled with sugar from far away.

Jimin had never experienced such low temperatures before. He often awoke pressed closely against his husband in the mornings, trying to absorb as much body heat as possible. He would bundle himself in blankets until the house warmed from the stove and fireplace. And he probably looked like a potato with the way he layered himself going outside into the cold.

And yet, staying inside the house every day, every hour, was wearing his mind thin. There were only so many times he could read the books they had, only so many times he could clean their already clean home, only so many times they could play the same card games, and only so many times he could share intimacy with his husband.

No, truly; Jimin thought maybe he needed to be a little less shameless for his husband. It was getting out of hand. Only this morning, he had allowed himself to be bent over the kitchen table and taken from behind like a…well, Jimin didn’t like to use that word, even in his mind. And not an hour after that he had his mouth full of warm cock.

Jimin had never been addicted to anything in his life. He knew of the affliction from seeing less fortunate in the streets of New York, and he read in the news about the dangers of opium. He’d never been much of a drinker, nor did he partake in tobacco—chewing or smoking. He didn’t even gamble. Sex, however, was something that he knew he was becoming addicted to. Sometimes, in the morning after a healthy go, Jimin daydreamed about summer and all the fun they could get up to in warmer months when they wouldn’t have to worry about freezing off their extremities.

That was far away yet.

There was a huff and a snort from one of the horses’ stalls, and Jimin came out of his musing. He gave a strong shiver and took a look at the minimal work he’d managed to do in the cold. Maybe it was time to return to the warmth of the house.

Yoongi was chopping wood outside when Jimin shut the stable door behind himself and began heading back to the house. He paused to watch his husband for a short moment, wondering at how Yoongi didn’t seem to be nearly as cold as he was. Jimin didn’t think it was because Yoongi was all that much stronger than he was; after all, Jimin had grown quite a bit of muscle over the months from all of the laborious work he had to do on a daily basis just to survive. However, his husband had far more endurance than he did in many ways.

Yoongi caught sight of Jimin and paused, letting his ax settle.

“Have I got something on my face?” he asked, after Jimin realized he’d been caught staring.

Jimin shook his head and trudged through the dirty snow toward him. “No, no; I just—how are you not cold?” he complained as he stopped a few paces away.

Yoongi raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I’m cold. But the promise of warming myself up keeps me invigorated.”

Jimin frowned, confused. “I’d say that thought has the opposite effect on me. The more I think of the house, the colder I feel out here.” He hugged his arms around himself.

Yoongi smirked. “I said nothing about warming myself in the house.”

Jimin opened his mouth to ask him to clarify, but then he realized that Yoongi had that look about him again. The one where his eyes were dark and wicked, and his lips were smiling in a way they shouldn’t. Jimin almost stopped him in time, but he was just a breath too slow.

“The promise of warming myself in your tight heat is quite effective in getting my blood pumping enough to keep me from freezing,” Yoongi declared.

Jimin gaped at him, and then in a split-second decision, crouched down to scoop up a handful of snow. He lobbed it at Yoongi, hitting him in the shoulder.

“Hey, now!” his husband protested.

The snow around Yoongi was all trampled and littered with woodchips and split bark, but Yoongi was nothing if not quick-witted and fit. He lunged forward toward some undisturbed snow, and Jimin gasped in surprise, stumbling out of the way just in time. Jimin felt snow hit his back, and immediately he knew the battle was on.

Like children, they chased each other and feinted throws, shouting and laughing each time one was successful at hitting their target. Yoongi’s aim was far better than Jimin’s, and he found himself nearly shrieking like a child as he was pummeled with snowball after snowball.

When Jimin finally caught Yoongi off guard and shoved him into a deep snowdrift, he fell right on top of him as they sank into the snow.

“Trying to murder your husband, are you?” Yoongi demanded, sounding breathless and spitting snow from his mouth.

Jimin’s heart was beating strongly in his chest, and his cheeks felt a strange combination of burning from heat and chill.

“What good would it do to murder my husband?” he retorted from where he sat astride him, straddling Yoongi’s waist.

“Then you’ll have everything to yourself. All this land, all my money; everything. And no one to bother you.”

Jimin squeaked when he was suddenly flipped over and into the snow as Yoongi tangled their legs together and rolled over. Jimin panted as he stared up at him.

“I don’t think I’d like that very much,” he whispered. He sucked in a sharp breath when one of Yoongi’s hands found his crotch and squeezed.

“No?”

Jimin shook his head. “No. I quite…OH—“ his eyes widened as a very cold hand found its way into his trousers. “I—I quite p-prefer—uhn—my h-husband’s—” Jimin lost his train of thought as Yoongi’s grip became more and more purposeful.

“Just look at you,” he heard above him.

Jimin moaned, arching up in the snow. He cried out when suddenly an almost too-hot heat engulfed his entire penis. He quickly lifted his head to look down see that Yoongi was eagerly bobbing his head and vulgarly sucking Jimin down.

 Only when Jimin became vaguely aware of ice-cold flakes hitting his face did he realize that it had started snowing again. At first, he felt it very romantic with snow falling around them like that, but then more common sense filtered into his mind.

“Yoongi,” he moaned. “Yoongi. Inside. I-inside.”

Yoongi groaned loudly around his cock, and Jimin couldn’t stop the sharp whimper from spilling out. However, when he felt fingers probing downward toward his entrance, he squirmed.

“No—Yoongi, inside—I meant—it’s snowing, for god’s sake!” Jimin didn’t know if he was laughing or crying with how close he was to climaxing.

Yoongi came off of him with an obscene pop, and hovered over him for a moment. He looked like a wild man, breathing heavily and lips a little swollen. Jimin hadn’t even realized he’d had a hand in Yoongi’s hair, tangling it into the nest it was now.

“Inside,” Yoongi repeated. “Not inside you.”

“Yes; inside the house. It’s snowing. We need to—”

Yoongi’s arms plunged into the snow on either side of Jimin and he shouted when he was suddenly lifted up into the air and thrown over Yoongi’s back. He didn’t even take the time to pull Jimin’s pants back up.

“What the—?! Yoongi!!”

Yoongi clomped up onto the porch, kicked the snow off of his boots and slapped the snow off of Jimin’s back and buttocks, and then a moment later the warmth of the house enveloped them. Jimin was carried through the kitchen, all the way into the bedroom, where he was then unceremoniously stripped of every last piece of clothing.

Yoongi took a moment to light the lantern and open the bottle of oil before undressing himself, and then he pulled Jimin close to kiss.

 

*

“I want to ride you.”

Yoongi looked up, over the rim of his coffee mug. “What?” he asked, blinking.

Jimin was sipping at his own coffee, looking conflictingly innocent. “I was just—I was just thinking, is all.” He shrugged.

It wasn’t anything new. Jimin had ridden Yoongi during sex a few times before, but he usually seemed to prefer to be underneath Yoongi. Whether that meant face down and ass up, or spread like a sin upon the mattress, Jimin seemed to enjoy Yoongi taking control during sex.

“You were just thinking.” Yoongi’s eyebrow went up. The corner of his lips rose, as well, when a slightly flush filled Jimin’s cheeks. Oh, his husband was precious sometimes.

“Mhm. Thought it’d be fun.”

Yoongi glanced out the window. It was the middle of the day. “Right now?”

Jimin looked, as well, and appeared to think for a long moment, taking a few more sips. “Well, maybe not right now. I am a bit, um, you know right now, but maybe…maybe we could do it later.”

Yoongi nodded, about to vocally confirm, but Jimin continued before he could say a word.

“Really want to feel it; is that okay?”

Yoongi knew he wasn’t imagining it when he felt his cock twitch in his jeans.

“I’d love to.”

Jimin took a longer sip, smiling. “Okay.”

Yoongi recalled Jimin’s words from a moment ago, though. He couldn’t see below the table, but he wondered if Jimin was hard. He cleared his throat and set down his mug.

“Before I go out to bring the horses in, would you like something else to drink?” He shifted in his chair, pushing back a little as he spread his legs and cupped himself.

Jimin’s mouth popped open, his pink tongue flicking out briefly to make his lips a little shinier as his eyes dropped down to Yoongi's hand. He nodded.

Yoongi settled back. “Come on, then.”

Jimin stood up and stepped over to him, bending down to kiss him lightly on the lips.

“You can ride me all you want later,” Yoongi promised lowly, thumbing over Jimin’s plump bottom lip, “but right now be a sweetheart and get on your knees for me. I wanna see those lips stretched tight around my cock.”

Jimin dropped to his knees and tugged at the bottom of Yoongi’s shirt, pulling it from the waistband of his jeans. As his fingers deftly unfastened them, Jimin leaned forward to lick at Yoongi’s abdomen. He pressed his lips to the firm skin and kissed him, sucked at him, and moved downward. Yoongi felt the need to close his eyes, but he resisted. He needed to witness every moment.

He hissed when Jimin’s fingers wrapped around his cock and gently freed him from his pants. Yoongi wasn’t fully stiff yet, but he could feel himself hardening with every touch. He groaned when Jimin lightly kissed the shaft and began to nuzzle it and kiss it almost reverently. The change Jimin had gone through in only half a year was almost unbelievable. From being afraid of his own desires—not even understanding them—to openly voicing his sexual cravings and showing his arousal for Yoongi. From being flustered and shy to becoming a force to be reckoned with.

At first, Yoongi had felt bad about how much he lusted after Jimin’s body. He had fantasized so many things, and felt guilty because he hadn’t wanted to push his husband. Now, however, Jimin was just as enthusiastic and willing to engage in intimacy—often and passionately.

Jimin shifted from kissing to sucking and licking, fondling Yoongi’s testicles carefully. When he took a deep breath and began to take more and more into his mouth, Yoongi bit down on his lip. Jimin hummed softly, tongue massaging him the whole way. He began bobbing his head, making wet noises and happy moans.

Yoongi expelled a loud breath of air when his cock suddenly squeezed into Jimin’s throat. It was only through sheer willpower that he didn’t come then and there. He let his head fall back with a loud groan as Jimin began fucking his own throat.

“Ungh, Jimin.”

Yoongi breathed heavily, staring unseeingly at the ceiling as he continued to force his eyes open despite not even looking at Jimin. Without thinking, he reached out and fisted one hand in Jimin’s hair, clenching tightly. He could feel his heart starting to pound faster, and vulgar images exploded around his mind. Fucking roughly into Jimin’s throat. Painting his face and hair with his release. Holding him down so he could come down his throat. Tears streaming down Jimin’s face as semen spilled over his swollen lips.

“Fuck. FUCK.” Yoongi groaned loudly and forced himself to lift his head to look down at his husband. His hand was shaking where it held tightly to its fistful of hair. And Jimin was whining. Yoongi’s eyes fluttered slightly as they rolled back briefly.

It was taking all his effort to not fuck Jimin’s throat, to let him do what he wanted.

Yoongi could feel himself approaching the edge. Jimin was making obscene little noises between his thighs. Not quite a gurgle, because he didn’t seem to be allowing much air between each thrust into his throat, but it was wet and sloppy and enthusiastic.

“Jimin!” Yoongi warned suddenly, involuntarily shoving Jimin’s head hard against himself as he felt his release begin to bowl him over. Jimin pulled back only a little and began pumping the base of Yoongi’s shaft with both hands wrapped around its girth.

Jimin’s mouth filled with creamy white, dripping down his chin even as Yoongi felt him swallowing around the tip.

When his orgasm passed, Yoongi sat limply for several moments in dazed silence. He watched as Jimin licked his lips and sucked at his fingers after cleaning his chin. Then he slowly got to his knees, tucked Yoongi carefully back into his jeans, and leaned down to kiss him softly.

“I don’t wanna come,” Jimin whispered against him as Yoongi put both hands around his waist. “I’m going to wait until later.”

“I’ll take good care of you,” Yoongi promised, tasting himself everywhere on Jimin’s tongue.

“I know.”

 

*

 

Jimin kneeled over Yoongi in bed. His knees were on either side of his husband’s waist, toes curved inward toward the older man’s knees. The air inside the room wasn’t cold, but it was cool enough to pebble Jimin’s nipples and make him shiver a little.

Yoongi’s hands gently stroked up his thighs until they rested upon his hips. His thumbs rubbed encouragingly against the smooth skin just outside of his pubic hair.

Jimin sucked in a breath of air. He watched as Yoongi then moved his right hand down between Jimin’s thighs, down to his own cock and lifted it up. The oil upon it glistened in the lantern light, and Jimin thought he could feel some of the oil drip from his own entrance. He swallowed, took a deep breath, and then raised himself up slightly.

He felt the tip of Yoongi’s cock rub carefully around his hole, and before he could change his mind, Jimin began to sink down.

“Oh—”

As usual, the fit was tight at first, and almost uncomfortable, but the promise of that indescribable pleasure ahead kept him sinking lower and lower until he was seated flush against Yoongi’s hips.

“Fuck,” Yoongi breathed quietly. Jimin could feel him throbbing inside. So full he could hardly think at first.

He took several long moments to relax himself, even though the slightest twitch got his own cock plumping up more and he couldn’t help clenching around the member inside him.

When Jimin first began to move, it was to roll his hips in a slow circle, and below him Yoongi swore loudly. His large hands seized Jimin’s hips tighter and helped him to move, grinding him down more firmly, pulling him up a fraction, again and again.

Jimin watched the way their bodies were connected, shiny with oil. Yoongi’s abdomen was tense and firm when Jimin leaned forward to support himself as he kept rolling his hips. It was a slow, sensual friction as Yoongi’s cock dragged at his inner walls.

“So beautiful,” Yoongi murmured. “You’re doing so well, Jimin.”

Jimin grinded his hips a little more firmly, pulling moans out of both of them. Yoongi’s hands stroked up and down Jimin’s thighs, pausing every now and then to squeeze the junction of his hips, rubbing his thumbs upon the soft area so close to his hard cock.

When Yoongi snapped his hips up sharply, Jimin cried out in surprise—but as Yoongi continued to thrust up into him, Jimin couldn’t stop the, “Ah—ah—ah—” cries from spilling continuously from his mouth. He could feel the heat building inside like a fire being fed more and more fuel.

“Yoongi—” Jimin squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to take his throbbing cock in hand and stroke it, but he kept his hands away. He let himself touch his nipples, almost delicately with how much his hands were now trembling. “OH,” his voice felt like it wasn’t his own. “I’m gonna—”

Jimin’s orgasm surged over him, but his husband didn’t slow his pace. On the contrary, Yoongi increased the power and speed of his thrusts as he rolled them over on the bed so he could fuck down into Jimin.

Jimin let out a little shriek of surprise which quickly turned into high-pitched whimpers and overwhelmed cries as his entire body lit up with the strength of his overstimulation.

“Y—Yoongi—” Jimin struggled to speak, squirming around the cock plunging in and out of him. “Yoon—oh god!”

He shrieked again, arching off of the mattress and nearly sobbing into the pillow as his body twisted. His toes curled in the air. Sheer, unadulterated pleasure so intense it almost felt painful. Yoongi’s cock was as hard and thick as ever, making sloppier and wetter noises the longer it plunged in and out of his abused hole.

When Yoongi finally climaxed, releasing his load into Jimin’s body, Jimin couldn’t stop the way his body tremored and shook as weak whimpers continued to slip through his lips. He was so overcome by the sensation that when Yoongi pulled out of him, he lay prone and quaking upon the bed until Yoongi gathered him against his chest and held him tight.

“Oh, sweetheart, did I go too hard?” The concern in Yoongi’s voice as he stroked Jimin’s hair back from his face made something tighten in his throat, and his eyes burned as tears rose to the surface.

He shook his head, unable to speak. He pressed close to his husband, needing the comfort more than ever.

“Are you sure? Are you okay? Jimin?”

Jimin whined quietly and nuzzled against him. He struggled to find his voice. When he finally managed to speak, it was only in a whisper. “Felt so good.”

“But you’re okay? I didn’t hurt you?”

Jimin shook his head against him. “No. I just…just need you to hold me.”

Yoongi pulled him more comfortably against him, wrapping him in his arms. With Jimin’s face buried against his shoulder, he couldn’t reach his lips, but Yoongi kissed his forehead and carded his fingers through his hair.

Jimin felt semen drip out of him. He pushed closer, squirming slightly. When he accidentally pressed his own cock against Yoongi’s thigh, he whimpered and jolted. Yoongi shook slightly as he chuckled.

“Aw, you’re sensitive now, aren’t you, darling.”

Jimin’s eyes rolled back briefly. He shuddered. Oh, that—that felt indescribable. With a trembling hand, he trailed his fingers down Yoongi’s arm until he found his wrist. He brought his husband’s hand to his far too sensitive penis and carefully wrapped Yoongi’s fingers around it. He choked out a sob-like whimper.

“Do you want more?” Yoongi asked him softly, moving his calloused thumb up over the head of Jimin’s cock.

Jimin whined, as if he was in pain. He was, in a way, in pain. But there was also that addictive feeling inside him, making him crave more. He wanted to feel that overwhelming sensation. He wanted to be helpless in Yoongi’s hands again.

Yoongi pumped his mostly soft cock as he kissed the corner of Jimin’s jaw and murmured low, sinful words to him.

“You can’t get enough now? You need me to milk you for all that you have? You want me to play with you so you come again…and again…and again, until you just can’t anymore?”

Jimin squirmed, fisting his hands in the bedding, arching up, thighs trying to close against the onslaught of painful pleasure. He nearly squealed when Yoongi forced his thighs open again and used his other hand to roll his testicles in his palm. Oh. He liked being manhandled like that. A strange sound came out of his throat.

Jimin’s orgasm was like a giant tidal wave slamming into him. Taking his hearing away momentarily only to return as a dull roar. Taking his breath away before he panted and gasped for air. Taking all thoughts away until all he could think of was the pleasure itself.

Jimin was boneless. All nerves exploding with sparks.

And when Yoongi’s once-again thick and straining, erect cock plunged back inside him as if to claim him, Jimin could do nothing but sob nonsense syllables as he arched up and writhed in his husband’s strong hands.

Jimin later awoke curled up in Yoongi’s arms, still naked but clean, and wrapped in their warmest blanket. It took him some time to find his voice, tilting his head up to weakly catch Yoongi’s lips against his own as he said his name. They kissed slowly and gently for several long minutes. Jimin could feel Yoongi carding his fingers through his hair as Jimin suckled needily at his husband’s tongue for a moment. It was so soothing of a sensation that he felt himself drifting toward sleep. Their mouths disconnected as his head slipped down to settle upon Yoongi’s shoulder.

Jimin thought he could hear Yoongi murmuring something to him, but his mind was so far away that he couldn’t even comprehend the meaning.

“What am I gonna do with you… Fuck, you’re just too precious for words. My sweet, sweet little husband.”

 

*

 

Jimin couldn’t believe his eyes. What had started as an unseasonably warm day—warm enough to go outside in only a sweater, in fact—had turned midday into the worst blizzard he had ever witnessed in his entire life.

They had gone into town, spurred on by the almost balmy weather, and Jimin had been excited to find that Taehyung had sent him a telegram. (It must have cost him a pretty penny, seeing as he didn’t even bother to use the telegraph style.) He apparently was having a grand old time up in Butte, and if the somewhat suspicious language he used was any indication, he’d been enjoying more than just his mysterious lover’s attention. The message was filled with phrases like, “Never a dull day,” “excitement like never experienced before,” “enchanting new friends.” Only toward the end, did he say, “hope all is well, missing you dearly.”

“Sounds like he’s having a party up there,” Jimin commented in amusement as they carried their supplies back to the sleigh after sending a brief message back.

Yoongi snorted. “Parties and orgies, more like.”

“Yoongi!”

“Don’t tell me you weren’t thinking the same thing.”

Jimin considered the mysterious lover Taehyung had mentioned. But even though Taehyung was a free spirit and enjoyed different partners on the regular, Jimin wasn’t sure if something as scandalous as sex with multiple partners at the same time was an activity that would interest Taehyung. He supposed he would have to wait until his friend returned to the Crossing.

They didn’t spend much time in town. After restocking their supplies and quick hellos to their friends in town, they headed back. Upon returning home, they let the horses relax out in the pasture to enjoy the warmth rather than put them back in their stalls.

But then, the temperature drastically dropped. As soon as Yoongi noticed, the horses were ushered back into the stable and set up with plenty of hay in addition to blankets.

Soon after that, the snow started.

Jimin didn’t think much of it until suddenly there was already a foot of fresh snow, and it didn’t show any sign of stopping. He and Yoongi periodically shoveled the path to the stable. The snow was powdery and was blowing around so much that most of the time Jimin couldn’t see anything at all. Just white all around.

By the time they went to bed that night, the snow was up to Jimin’s waist. They were both so exhausted from the shoveling that they collapsed into bed and didn’t even have the energy to kiss. Jimin curled up against his husband, the darkness of sleep taking over his consciousness within seconds. Outside, the snow fell in layer upon layer, like blankets muffling the world of all noise.

Morning dawned dark. And silent.

Jimin sat up in bed, instinctively feeling that he had slept enough hours, but the window was dark. He also had the strangest awareness of how absolutely silent it was. No wind, no birds, no nothing. Just silence.

He nudged Yoongi, who was still asleep beside him.

“Mmh?” Yoongi groaned but opened his eyes, blinking up at him in confusion.

“Yoongi, something’s…something’s wrong, I think.” Jimin pushed aside the bedcovers and gingerly stepped across the frigid floorboards to the window. There was a faint light, toward the top of the pane, but otherwise it was shadowed. As if something was blocking the sun.

Jimin’s eyes widened, and he quickly turned to Yoongi.

“The snow!”

Understanding immediately filled Yoongi’s face. He threw off the blankets and lit the lantern before starting to tug on his trousers.

“I’m going to see how high it is. Don’t start a fire yet; the chimneys could be blocked.”

“You’re not going out there alone,” Jimin insisted, already bending down to pull on his boots.

Nothing could have prepared Jimin for the sight that met them outside. After a small avalanche of snow fell in through the front doorway upon opening the door, they climbed over the pile of snow and realized that the snow had blown against the house in such a way that it seemed like a small sloping hill. The pathway they had been working to clear between the house and the stable was filled up to their knees, and on either side the snow was up to their shoulders.

“Yoongi, how—” Jimin trailed off, horrified. Beside him, Yoongi also looked grim.

“I’m going to check the chimneys. But then can you check on the horses?”

“Yes, yes, I—of course.” Jimin tried to shake his shock away. How was there so much snow?

With some effort, they pulled the front door closed to keep as much of the heat inside, and then Yoongi was able to climb up the snow drift directly onto the roof. He brought one of the shovels with him, pushing snow off of the roof as he shuffled along it. He cleared around the chimneys where the snow had piled up, and then he went about shoving more snow off of the roof. Jimin waited nervously until his husband was safely back on the ground, and then while Yoongi began to clear around the house and reopen the pathways, Jimin went inside to build a fire in the cookstove. Once it was burning strongly, Jimin returned outside to trudge through the knee-deep snow to the stable.

He had to clear around the doors to get inside, and once inside he was met by a similar muffled silence that had been in the house. However, the horses were moving around in their stalls and were huffing their impatience at him, so Jimin hurried over to greet them.

“Good morning, Sunny. Good morning, Chief. Are you two warm enough in here?”

Jimin scratched their chins and rubbed their noses. It was, in fact, warmer than usual inside the stable. Perhaps the snow was insulating the outer walls? Jimin didn’t know much about that kind of thing, but he thought maybe he’d read something about that in a book once in his school days. He gave them fresh feed and fresh hay, and did his best to muck their stalls with them still inside. Sunny behaved, as usual, but Chief was always a bit pushy when Jimin got in his stall with him.

After making sure they were comfortable and had enough water, Jimin went back outside. He had to take another moment to just take in the unbelievable sight. As far as the eye could see, everything was pure white. Most of the trees were coated with a balloon of white, while others had shed the weight at some point. Some trees were bowed over. Any low-to-the-ground foliage such as bushes were completely invisible, covered entirely by the snow.

There was no road in sight.

Jimin peered off in the direction of the Jungs’, squinting against the brightness. He thought he could see the faint trail of chimney smoke past the horizon, but it was hard to tell. He hoped the Jungs were okay. But it would be tough to get to their house like this.

“Did you see the snowshoes in there?” Yoongi called across the clearing.

“Snowshoes?” Jimin shook his head, not recalling if he’d noticed anything like that.

Yoongi set his shovel down so that it stuck vertically up in the snow, and then he slowly made his way toward Jimin.

“There should be some snowshoes in the stable. Haven’t used them in a while, but they should still be okay.”

“I didn’t see any, but I also wasn’t looking for them.”

“There should be two pairs, from when my father was still alive.”

While Yoongi went into the stable to look for the snowshoes, Jimin waded through the snow, still unable to believe his eyes. He picked up the second shovel and began to clear more paths. There was no place to put the snow other than to create even higher mounds. The more he shoveled, the more he felt like they were building prison walls around themselves.

 

*

 

As the morning passed, Yoongi’s worry for Hoseok’s family increased. Thinking back, he realized that the storm had started right in the middle of the day, when the boys would have been at the schoolhouse. Had they returned home safely? This storm was unprecedented, and with how warm yesterday had begun, it was not unbelievable that the children would have gone to school without their proper winter coats.

Finally, it became too much. He set down his shovel and went to find Jimin where he was clearing a path between the well, house, and stable.

“I’m going to take Chief to go check on the Jungs and make sure they don’t need any help,” he told Jimin.

His husband set down his shovel, breathing heavily. His cheeks were nearly red from the cold and effort it was taking him to shovel.

“Alone?” he frowned.

Yoongi shrugged. It hadn’t occurred to him to do otherwise.

“You’re not going alone,” Jimin insisted. “What if—what if something happens to you on the way, and I don’t know about it? Or—” he turned and gestured to the area around their home, “what if the snow collapses on me and—”

“Okay, okay. We’ll go together,” Yoongi interrupted. He didn’t like the idea of Jimin getting hurt alone, either. The house would be fine left as it was if they both went to the Jungs’. “We can’t take the sleigh, so we’ll just have to ride them.”

They strapped the snowshoes Yoongi had successfully found to each of their backs, along with their shovels, and then they slowly, carefully, began to make their way through the snow toward the road.

As Yoongi suspected would be the case, Chief got a little too excited about the snow, and tried to start playing; bounding directly through the deep snow, spraying powder in all directions including in Yoongi’s face. It took a few moments of firm guidance before Chief settled down and stopped purposely shoving his face into the snow and bouncing around.

When Yoongi glanced back at Jimin where he was sitting upon the very calm Sunny, it was almost comical the difference between Jimin’s and Sunny’s expressions. Sunny looked unimpressed, almost offended by Chief’s antics. Meanwhile, Jimin looked startled.

“Are you okay?” Jimin asked, guiding Sunny a little closer, but not too close because it really wasn’t possible with the snow the way it was.

Yoongi laughed. “Yeah. I’m fine. He does this sometimes. Chief enjoys the snow a little too much at times.”

“Oh, he’s—enjoying it? He’s not upset at you?”

Yoongi shook his head and leaned forward slightly to give Chief a pat on the neck. “No, he’s just having too much fun right now. We can let him enjoy himself when we get to the Jungs’, but right now he needs to do his job.” The last part of his sentence was directed toward his horse, his voice turning sterner.

They moved more slowly the farther they went along. Chief and Sunny were used to deep snow, but Yoongi didn’t think they’d traversed through anything quite as deep as this snow. The snow wasn’t perfectly powdery all the way through, which was usually easier for the horses to move through, but thankfully it wasn’t too wet or packed firmly. Even now, the wind continued to pick up swaths of light snow to blow around and pile into drifts. Luckily, the distance between their home and the Jungs’ home wasn’t too far. Ten minutes by horse on a good day. Now, however, with the horses basically plowing their way through the snow that reached up past their bellies, it would probably take nearly twice as long.

The valley around them was a spectacular sight. Nothing but smooth white all around, like freshly whipped up cream spread across the landscape. Usually the mountains were speckled with green and gray between the snow, but right now they were fully white. The sky was mostly gray, with bits of blue peeking through. Yoongi could see the bright disk of the sun shining from behind the thin layer of clouds.

Eventually they reached the Jungs’ farm. Yoongi let out a relieved breath of air when all three children tumbled out onto the house’s porch, yelling in greeting.

“What’re you doing?! Get back inside and close that door!” Becky’s voice drifted out through the door.

There were two huge mounds of snow on two sides of the house, where the snow from the roof had either slid down on its own accord, or perhaps Hoseok had cleared it. It was far cleaner than the job Yoongi had done on their own house.

“I said, get back in the—oh!” Becky appeared at the door, anger filling her expression, but then she saw Yoongi and Jimin.

“Everyone’s all right, here?” Yoongi called out. He carefully got down from Chief, keeping one eye on Jimin in case he needed help, but he was just fine.

“Yes—boys, get back inside! NOW.” She gave both of their behinds smart whacks as she shoved the children back into the warmth of the house, shutting the door. “Yes, thankfully,” she continued in a calmer tone. She waited until they were both up on the porch. Yoongi could see the shadows under her eyes.

“Did you have trouble getting the boys back from the schoolhouse?” Yoongi asked as he and Jimin set their shovels and snowshoes down against the side of the house by the door and helped each other brush the snow off of their clothes.

“They—they came back this morning,” Becky let out in a broken rush of air, and Yoongi quickly stepped forward when he saw her begin to crumple with her hands pressed to her face.

Yoongi ignored the two faces squished against the inside of the nearest window to spy on them. Instead, he glanced grimly at Jimin and held Becky as she began crying against him.

“We—we couldn’t go out into the storm yesterday,” she sobbed. “It would ha—have been too dangerous for Hoseok to—to go out in—into that and risk getting lost. So we could only—only wait, and hope that they would be safe at the schoolhouse.” She inhaled several shuddering breaths of air before pushing herself away, wiping at her cheeks and straightening her dress. She took another deep breath of air.

“God bless Namjoon Kim,” Becky said, eyes shining with fresh tears that she quickly wiped away. “He kept the schoolhouse stocked with plenty of firewood to keep them all warm through the night, he and the older children made sure the youngest weren’t too scared by playing games, and he even had some canned food stored in the schoolhouse for situations just like this one.

“Then, this morning Hoseok took Johnny and Charlie—” their largest, sturdiest draft horses, “—and went to go get them. Hoseok told me that Namjoon planned to stay at the schoolhouse until all of the children were collected by their parents, and if there were any that didn’t have someone come for them, he’d take them to their homes himself. He said he didn’t let the eldest leave yesterday even though there were a few boys who thought they could make it through the storm. Said he convinced them by telling them he needed their help to care for the others.”

“That man’s got a good head on his shoulders,” Yoongi nodded, gesturing to Jimin to go into the house before him as they finally went inside.

“I warned Hoseok I might kiss Namjoon next time I saw him in town,” Becky laughed and shook her head. “He told me he nearly kissed him, himself!”

They followed Becky into the kitchen where it looked like she had been in the middle of cooking.

“Where’s Hoseok?” Jimin asked.

“He’s out in the barn, milking the cows. Everything’s off schedule today, but at least we have our boys back.”

“We came to offer what help we can. Ah—thank you,” he added, as she handed each of them hot mugs of coffee.

“I’m sure Hoseok could put you to work out there with something,” Becky nodded. “I was given strict instructions to stay inside and watch the little ones, and to not let anyone outside.” Unlike usual when Becky let her displeasure be known when she was told to do something, Yoongi could tell that she had no intention of arguing or protesting about staying indoors with her children.

After briefly going back to say hello to the healthily playing children—Yoongi also did not miss the small table of delicious snacks that had been suspiciously set out—the two men headed back outside toward the barn, leading the horses alongside them.

“Yoongi! Jimin!” Hoseok exclaimed after they had pulled the door open. “What’re you doing here? Is everything okay at your place?”

“We’re fine, don’t worry,” Yoongi reassured him.

“We wanted to check on you,” Jimin added. “We just heard about Frankie and Alex.”

Hoseok gave them a grim smile. “It certainly wasn’t a fun night,” he said. “We couldn’t sleep a wink. Becky was beside herself. One moment she was weeping, the next she was making murderous threats. Thought I wasn’t going to make it through the night, for a moment, there.”

Neither Yoongi nor Jimin laughed at the attempt at a joke.

“At the very first sign of light, I hooked up the big boys and high-tailed it to the schoolhouse.” Hoseok closed his eyes, making a pained expression. “When I saw smoke coming from the schoolhouse chimney, I damn-near cried. Joon—he really saved all of the children last night. We worried that there would be children who tried to find their ways home, but Namjoon kept them all together. A grown man couldn't make his way through that storm.”

Yoongi and Jimin spent a few hours helping Hoseok with the animals and with clearing pathways. It was already starting to get dark when they called it quits. After a hearty meal with the entire family, Yoongi and Jimin made the tedious trek back home.

 

 

They learned later through the newspapers of the devastation east of Montana Territory; that more than two hundred children had died in the blizzard, trying to get home from school.

 

*

 

 

Notes:

I couldn't have anything bad happen to the Jung boys! Although it was based on a real event (see the link just above), I couldn't resist making Namjoon the smartest and most prepared teacher to protect his students. 💜

This chapter is a bit shorter than usual because the story is going to take a shift from the next chapter, and I didn't really want it to be included in this one. No promises on how soon it'll be posted, but I'll do my best! Please look forward to it!

Chapter 10: Chapter X

Notes:

Put your seatbelts on, because a LOT happens in this chapter...

Enjoy reading!

 

 

Chapter X

 

Jimin thought they’d never see the end of the snow. There was just too much of it. Even when they had slightly warmer days, he didn’t see a decrease. The road did get trampled enough to become more manageable, but they certainly weren’t going on any long rides.

By the time February rolled around, and their supplies were getting low again, they had to make the journey back into town.

“Any news of Taehyung?” Jimin asked Seokjin as he and Yoongi sat up at the bar in the saloon, waiting for their drinks to be poured.

“Not much, I’m afraid,” Seokjin shrugged. He set their glasses down one by one. “We got a few telegrams, but with the snow being the way it is, he’s not sure when he’ll be able to get back. Maybe in March.”

Jimin sighed and took a long swallow of his beer. He missed his friend. Of course he enjoyed the company of his husband, but Taehyung was his closest same-age friend in town, and he always brought so much exciting energy to the table when they were together.

He spotted a newspaper hanging on the wall behind the bar, then. He couldn’t read the headline from his seat, but it looked like there was a familiar face on the page. “What’s that?”

Seokjin grinned. “Our resident celebrity, of course.” At Jimin’s frown, he elaborated. “The news folks got wind of Namjoon’s heroics during the Children’s Blizzard. Someone came to interview him, and there you have it.”

“They still have copies for sale?” Yoongi asked. “I don’t think I got one of that edition.”

Seokjin frowned. “Maybe? Not sure. I think more folks than usual bought them up,” he laughed. “I saw lots of ladies reading when it first came out.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Maybe Joon won’t need to advertise for a wife, after all.”

“Oh?” Jimin sat up in interest. “Has he—?"

Seokjin shook his head. “Not yet, but I have noticed more eyes on him. More giggles, you know? Not sure he’s noticed, though.”

The month dragged on. The snow slowly decreased, the days grew warmer (though not that much warmer), and finally Jimin felt like maybe life was returning to the area. He took Sunny on more solo rides to get fresh air and get rid of his cabin fever.

Jimin enjoyed nature-watching, looking for the signs of spring. They were few and far between, so when he did spot hints, it felt like he had found gold. Yoongi always smiled indulgently at him when Jimin reported back his findings.

“Don’t,” Jimin insisted with a frown.

“What?” Yoongi raised his eyebrows in innocence.

“You’re looking at me like I’m a child again.”

“I’m not.”

“You are!”

Yoongi took him by the waist and pulled him in abruptly, lowing his face down to stare Jimin directly in the eyes. “Believe me, sweetheart, I’m not.” His voice was dangerously low, making Jimin’s belly swoop.

A week before Yoongi’s thirty-ninth birthday, they went back into town for more supplies. Jimin had barely jumped down from the wagon before he heard footsteps hurrying toward him, and then he was walloped from behind.

“Jimin!” Taehyung shouted in his ear, and Jimin laughed aloud as he caught Yoongi’s amused expression before managing to turn around in his friend’s arms. He missed the way Yoongi’s expression seemed to freeze when his gaze drifted up toward Taehyung’s face.

“Taehyung, you’re back!”

Taehyung quickly shifted down at him from where he’d been looking at Yoongi. His eyes lit up. “I missed you, Jimin! I have so much to tell you about!”

Jimin was whisked away, and he could only helplessly mouth an apology to Yoongi as he was dragged out of sight.

“I don’t know how you can stand to stay here,” Taehyung shook his head as he paused by the bar to demand drinks of Seokjin, and then Jimin found himself being shoved upstairs.

“What’re you—Taehyung!” he laughed. “We can just stay downstairs, you know—”

“No; no, we can’t,” his friend shook his head quickly. His hair was still rather long, framing his face beautifully. Jimin was a little envious of it. “Not with the stories I have to tell!” There was something different about Taehyung, Jimin thought. His eyes had a new maturity to them, somehow. Despite his playful bantering and easy smile, there was something deeper in his eyes, now.

“I—” Jimin struggled not to laugh, “I really don’t want to hear about your, your…intimate adventures in detail, Taehyung Kim.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Fine, I won’t go into too much detail. But I’ll have you know, that the entire time was just—” he purposely rolled his eyes back and groaned loudly, “so good. So, so good.” He brought his chin back down and leaned forward, so close he could have easily kissed Jimin if he wanted to. “The dicking I got, Jimin? Oh, it was heaven.”

Jimin felt his cheeks flush. “Taehyung,” he protested.

The thing was, though…he was curious. He still felt a strong sense of embarrassment, but he was curious. Especially since Taehyung’s telegram had implied something unique about his experience in Butte.

Two slender hands took Jimin’s face between them, and Taehyung squeezed the soft cheeks with an amused sound.

“Don’t be shy, Jimin; I know you’re getting fucked on the regular.”

Jimin shoved him away. “Stop it! Why do you have to use such…such language!?”

Taehyung cackled. “I’m not wrong, though, am I?”

“…No.”

“Ha! I knew it. I know you love being full of Yoongi’s fat pecker. There are certain things you can’t hide, my friend.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I know.”

Jimin covered his face. “What’s wrong with you?!” He was smiling behind his hands, though. Oh, he missed this. No matter how embarrassed he felt.

“It wasn’t all sex, though, don’t worry.”

Jimin peeked through his fingers, seeing Taehyung walk across the room to sort through a stack of traveling trunks.

“There was a good deal of sex, don’t get me wrong. The weather didn’t give us much choice when we were stuck inside for days on end, but I’m sure you know all about that. But there was so much more than that. Life in the city was so exciting, Jimin. I almost didn’t want to come back, honestly.” He glanced over his shoulder at Jimin momentarily. “Not sure how long I can stay here once the weather warms up, either.”

Jimin bit his lip to keep from protesting. Who was he to stop his friend from following his dreams? Even if it left him lonely again?

“Will you leave again?”

“I don’t know, yet. Maybe. There’s so much to see beyond this town. So much to experience. Aha. Here—this is for you,” Taehyung said, coming back to the bed with a small velvet pouch.

It was a silver and gold pocket watch with an elaborate floral design on the front cover. He could feel the ticking in the palm of his hand.

“It’s lovely,” Jimin said as he popped it open and turned it over to look at the back. “Thank you.”

“A man can always use a pocket watch,” Taehyung shrugged. “The real gift is for when it warms up, though. They’re downstairs—I’ll show you in a bit. I wanted to get you some clothing, but I wasn’t sure your measurements,” he sighed.

Jimin waved him away. “I don’t need nice clothes. Everything will get dirtied here.”

“You can always save some outfits for special occasions,” Taehyung insisted.

Jimin tilted his head. “Yoongi and I don’t exactly go out to luxurious restaurants or lavish hotels.”

“Maybe you two can go up to Butte for your anniversary,” Taehyung suggested. “Or even one of the bigger cities.”

“I don’t think Yoongi’s one for…for that,” Jimin trailed off.

“Why not? He’s certainly traveled a lot. You’d be surprised about the things he’s been up to.”

Jimin looked up at him, not quite frowning, but he didn’t say anything at first. There was a strange tone to Taehyung’s voice. Like he was implying something he was holding back.

Before he could ask what Taehyung meant, though, his friend began telling him all about the wonders of steam heating and electricity. He’d apparently never experienced either of those things before, so Jimin sat back and enjoyed the joy in his friend’s expression as he explained in great detail about the apartment where he had been staying.

“Is your lover still in Butte, or did he come back with you?”

“He’s still there.”

“You haven’t told me much about him,” Jimin reminded him. “What’s he like? I thought you never stayed with the same lover for long. Are you—is he special?”

Taehyung smiled softly at him. “I suppose he’s special, but not really in the way you’re probably thinking, I guess. We—we shared an apartment together, and we had sex—often—but he wasn’t the only one. He’s a little like me, you see.”

“Like you?”

“He doesn’t stay with one lover for long. And he’s…adventurous.”

“Adventurous?”

“I’ve only ever had one lover at a time—it’s not like there are bountiful numbers of male lovers to choose from, here. But in Butte, we had so many parties, it was absolutely fantastic.”

Jimin felt a little confused, but he thought he had an idea of what Taehyung was implying.

“So, you had…more than one lover?”

Taehyung’s face practically glowed. His voice went low so that Jimin had to lean forward to hear him better. “Just imagine, Jimin, being pressed between two lovers, feeling pleasure from all sides. Or—it wasn’t always just male lovers, of course. He mostly prefers women, and although I wouldn’t usually initiate relations with a woman myself, I still did quite enjoy myself when we took a lady to bed with us. Sometimes two.”

Jimin’s eyes were wide. He felt flushed all over, and he didn’t think it was the drink in his belly. Three lovers at once?

“Is that something you’d like, Jimin?” Once again, Taehyung was too close for comfort.

“N-no,” Jimin sputtered. “I only need my husband. No one else. He’s quite—quite enough for me, thank you very much!”

Taehyung smirked, his eyes dark and teasing. “You aren’t interested in squirming between two strong men? Falling apart from their touches?”

Jimin gasped and jumped off of the bed. “Taehyung!” he exclaimed. He needed to find his husband, now.

Taehyung’s seductive expression cleared, and he burst out laughing. “I’m just teasing! You’re so easy to get riled up.” He held his belly as he continued to laugh. Eventually, Jimin begrudgingly settled back on the edge of the bed. Ready to get up again if he needed to.

Much later, as Taehyung led Jimin back downstairs, he realized that he still didn’t know the name of Taehyung’s lover. Nor even what he looked like. That was unusual. Jimin was sure that in the past, Taehyung had told him the names of various lovers, even if he didn’t know who they were. It was strange.

“Look!”

Jimin’s attention was drawn back to the present when Taehyung stopped in front of not one, not two—but three telephone boxes. They weren’t identical, but were all slightly different. Two seemed to be the kind you attached to a wall and had rotary dials, and one—the simplest of the three, had a crank dial. All three had cylindrical mouthpieces connected, and then round metal bells attached to the front.

“What? What are these?”

“Telephones!” Taehyung explained.

“No, I mean, I know they are telephones,” Jimin retorted. “What are they doing here? Where did they—did you buy these?!”

“Technically, they were ordered.”

Jimin frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Jin ordered them. I brought them back here. Mr. Dunn and the city hall have one each, as well, but theirs were specially sent by the government.”

“But we don’t even have electricity here, yet!”

Taehyung laughed. “We’ll be getting electricity very soon. Before summer, I heard. But you don’t need electricity for them. You just need to connect them to wires. I thought that you and Yoongi could take this one—” he pointed to the simple one, “and connect yourselves to the Jungs.” He pointed to one of the ones with a dial. “Then Seokjin can keep one here in the saloon.”

Jimin mouthed soundlessly at him, flabbergasted. “How will we connect them to the Jungs and here, though? I don’t understand.”

“I heard that ranches have been using the barbed wire fences to connect phones together,” Taehyung said excitedly. “We’ll probably wait for the snow to be gone before setting it up, but then all you need to do is ring the Jungs’ to talk to them! Imagine that! I could call you and talk to you all the way from here!”

 

*

 

After Jimin disappeared off with Taehyung, Yoongi continued with his original plans to get his errands taken care of, feeling slightly uneasy. What had that look been about? Taehyung had given him a knowing, searching look. It had only lasted a split second, but Yoongi hadn’t missed it. Taehyung had never looked at Yoongi in that way before. As long as he’d known him, Taehyung had always been either playful and cheerful, or downright flirtatious with him. This look had been calculating, though.

The look stayed with him all throughout collecting the month’s supplies at the provisions store, tucking the latest newspaper away for later, and strapping everything down securely so the uneven ride back wouldn’t knock everything around in the wagon.

He wasn’t too surprised that Jimin didn’t rejoin him. This often happened when they went into town before the snow. After triple-checking his list to see if he’d forgotten anything, Yoongi headed over to the saloon.

“Afternoon, Yoongi.”

Yoongi turned at the sound of his name, grinning when he saw Namjoon sitting at one of the tables off to the side. He headed over and noticed the school teacher had a newspaper out and several pieces of notepaper beside him. A few were crumpled, others had been scribbled upon.

“Howdy, Teach,” Yoongi smiled, taking a seat. “What’s all this, then?”

Namjoon let out a heavy sigh. “I’ve decided to do it. I’ve decided to put an advertisement out for a wife—and a teacher.”

“Marrying our colleagues now, are we?” Yoongi raised his eyebrows. He knew Namjoon would pick up on the mild teasing.

“We need another teacher,” Namjoon shook his head. “And I’m not getting any younger. I’d like to start a family.” Namjoon would be turning thirty-one later in the year. Yoongi could understand the sentiment.

“None of the ladies around here suit your fancy?” Yoongi recalled Seokjin’s words about the ladies taking a recent interest in the hero of the town.

“They’re a bit—” Namjoon paused and glanced around carefully before lowering his voice, “dull. And none of them are well-read, Yoongi.”

“Why can’t you hire a teacher separately, and just find a wife, though? They have to be the same person?”

Namjoon leaned back, looking a little embarrassed. “Ah, that’s—well.” He cleared his throat. “I know how this is going to sound.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows, waiting.

“See, I don’t think I could leave a wife alone all day, away from me.”

Yoongi snorted. “Separation issues?”

Namjoon lifted his drink to his lips and took a big swallow. “I just…I know what kind of men come through this town, Yoongi. I’d worry too much that she’d hitch off with one of them.”

Yoongi couldn’t stop the scoff. “Joon. You do realize you’ve got a lot going for you, right?”

“You say that, but—”

“Hey. Look.” Yoongi’s voice was firm. He held up one finger and began to list off, tapping the table each time. “You’re smart. You’re fit. You’re a fucking hero of the town, now. You’re tall, and handsome, and you already have women tripping over themselves when you’re nearby. Do you not see that?” A few seconds’ too long of a pause was all the answer he needed. “You don’t, do you.”

“Come on,” Namjoon avoided. “I’ve already decided, anyway.”

“So you’re going to bring some pretty little wife from the cities, keep her on a short leash in the school house and at home, and—”

“Of course not.”

“Then?”

“I just—” he was clearly struggling. After a moment, he finally gave into whatever embarrassment was holding him back. “The problem is that when I—when I love someone, it’s all I can think about. I don’t think I could be away from her. And I’d hope that she’d also…she’d also not want to be away from me.”

He didn’t let Yoongi react to the declaration before shoving the papers toward him across the table. “Now, help me out, or leave. I need this to be perfect to find the perfect girl.”

Yoongi closed his eyes and shook his head in exasperation. Why was he surprised? No, he really wasn’t, if he thought about it. He vaguely recalled when Namjoon was keeping company with a woman a few years ago, and he was just smitten. It hadn’t worked out in the end, which Yoongi now wondered if that had anything to do with his insecurity. Hadn’t she ended up with one of the miners? He couldn’t recall. But either way…Yoongi himself had never been one for all the lovey-dovey nonsense. Sure, he could be romantic every once in a while to see that pretty smile on his husband’s face, but he wasn’t daydreaming or forgetting to do things because of him. He wasn’t obsessed and needing to be with him constantly, even if spending time together was nearly always enjoyable.

“Fine. Let’s get you a wife, then.”

He pulled the papers closer and spun them around to take a look.

Close to half an hour later, Yoongi headed toward the back of the saloon. He still hadn’t seen Jimin since he’d been swept away by Taehyung, and they needed to get going soon if they were to arrive home before dark.

Yoongi wasn’t really paying attention to the sounds he was hearing as he walked through the hallway. But then he came around the corner and the muffled breathing noises and low murmuring abruptly made sense. Suran had Heize pushed up against the wall; one hand was moving quickly under her skirts, the other was squeezing a partially exposed breast as they kissed deeply. Heize was shaking, whimpering quietly into her mouth, and Yoongi could just barely hear the wet sounds under her skirts.

He sighed and rolled his eyes slightly before clearing his throat loudly to announce his presence.

Heize’s eyes snapped open and she gasped quietly in surprise. A deep flush filled her cheeks. She hurried to cover herself.

“Mr. Min!” she exclaimed, eyes rolling back and shuddering as Suran’s arm jolted once before it removed itself from under her skirts.

Suran turned toward him as well, smiling slightly. “Mr. Min,” she acknowledged calmly.

Everyone’s eyes were on her fingers, which were glossy with Heize’s juices. Suran seemed to consider wiping her fingers on her clothing, but then at the last minute she shrugged and stuck her fingers into her mouth to suck clean. Heize made a small sound and her knees buckled.

“Miss Heize, Miss Suran,” Yoongi gave a fake cough and tipped his non-existent hat. “Apologies for interrupting, but I’m looking for my husband. Do you know if he’s upstairs?”

Suran frowned a little as if thinking, and glanced at Heize. “Maybe? I think…yes, I think we saw him go upstairs with Taehyung.”

Yoongi nodded. “That’s what I expected. Thank you kindly.” He walked past them toward the stairs. Not three steps beyond them and he heard their intimate sounds start back up again, more intense than before.

He paused as he reached Taehyung’s bedroom door. He could hear voices inside. He lifted his hand to rap his knuckles against the wood three times. The voices inside halted, and then footsteps approached the door.

“Yoongi!” Taehyung exclaimed in what was clearly mock surprise. “Come to collect your husband, are you?”

“I am.”

Jimin was sitting on Taehyung’s bed, and the moment their eyes met, a lovely blush filled his cheeks. Interesting. What had the man been filling Jimin’s head with this time? Yoongi had long since resigned himself to the fact that the two men very likely gossiped about what happened between the sheets at home, and there was nothing he could do about it.

At least he knew he satisfied his husband.

“Jimin, didn’t you need to get Yoongi his birthday gift?” Taehyung said out of the blue.

Jimin looked up, startled. “I—? Oh! Oh no, I—I completely forgot! Oh, Yoongi—”

“Why don’t you go do that now?” Taehyung’s voice was light and innocent. “I can distract him for a bit here.”

Yoongi could tell that Jimin was too flustered to suspect a thing, but Yoongi could feel the air changing. He wasn’t about to back down, though. “That’s a fine idea. Let’s meet back up downstairs, hm?”

“Oh, okay,” Jimin nodded, blushing again suddenly. He quickly leaned up to give Yoongi a lingering peck on the lips, and then he was off down the hallway.

Yoongi waited until they could hear his footsteps down the stairs, and then he quietly pulled the door shut and locked it.

“All right,” he said gruffly. “What is it.”

Taehyung gave him a sizing-up once-over without answering. He narrowed his eyes slightly, like he was trying to figure something out, and then he nodded to himself.

“Would you like to take a seat?” he asked, gesturing to one of the two chairs in the room.

“I think I’ll stand, thanks.”

Taehyung shrugged. “It’s all the same to me.” He sat down on the bed, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back against the headboard. He looked elegant despite the simple setting of his bedroom.

“Spit it out, Taehyung,” Yoongi said. “I—”

“Do you know who my lover is?”

Yoongi frowned, thrown off. “Your lover? Haven’t you got multiple? How am I supposed to keep track?”

Taehyung snorted. “Very astute.” He held up both hands in a surrendering gesture. “But no, I meant the lover I went to Butte with. The lover I’ve spent the last couple months getting to know intimately in and out. And those he’s close with.”

For some bizarre reason, Jungkook’s face flickered across Yoongi’s mind. And the conversation he had all those months ago about Jungkook fucking Taehyung. Had he…?

“Ah,” Taehyung’s voice was soft, and almost delighted. “You do know.”

Yoongi wasn’t going to play into his hands, though. “I haven’t the slightest—”

“Jungkook Jeon. More commonly known as Johnny the Kid.”

Yoongi kept his expression unchanged even if he felt a shiver of dread course through him. “The outlaw? Isn’t he a womanizer?” He kept his voice even and unconcerned.

Taehyung let out a single, loud laugh. “Don’t play with me, Yoongi.”

It was unmistakable. Taehyung knew. But Yoongi wasn’t going to be tricked. Because maybe Taehyung knew something, but he might not know everything.

“Jungkook isn’t always the smartest, despite his cleverness,” Taehyung spoke. “And he may have let slip a few stories about an old friend of his. A very good friend—a mentor, even, who taught him all he knows. A mutual friend, in fact. One August Dean.”

Yoongi swallowed. He wasn’t sure what Taehyung’s goal was with this interrogation. He hadn’t heard that name in years.

“I heard several highly embellished stories about mister August Dean. From Jungkook, from his friends. How he used to be the sharpest shooter, how he helped the Bulletproof Gang to come away from every heist successful with riches upon riches…” His lips curled up slyly, almost seductively, “How he fucked all the pretty boys until they forgot their names—but never his. I’ll say that was one thing I certainly never read about in the news, back then, but it did match a few things.”

“What do you want, Taehyung,” Yoongi snapped.

With every word, the memories were flooding back. He’d tried to shove them away, erase everything, pretend it had never happened. Even with Jungkook coming through the area and reminding him.

“So, it is you. You’re not denying it.”

Taehyung stood up and stepped closer, until they were within arm’s reach of each other. If Yoongi wanted to, he could take the other man down right here. There was no way Taehyung could win against him. He didn’t move.

“I remember when you came back to town. Do you remember?”

Yoongi did. He’d been wary, unused to staying in one place for longer than a month, and suddenly he was taking care of his ill, no-good father. The Kim brothers had been the first friendly souls he’d come across, and he’d cautiously allowed them to interact with him more than any of the others in town. Taehyung had been sixteen or seventeen at the time. An innocent boy just starting to realize his preference for his fellow man. He’d followed Yoongi around whenever he was in town, flirting with him, but Yoongi had always simply ignored him.

“What made you stop?”

Yoongi held his gaze for a long moment before looking away. “I don’t know what Jungkook’s told you, but it’s not a good life. It’s rough and dangerous. Exhausting. Constantly having to watch your back. I’d been thinking of quitting it for a while already, before I even knew of my father’s condition. I only found out about him because I was in the area and heard that he’d gotten ill. It was the perfect excuse to get away from it all, even though I despised him.”

He abruptly remembered the week of his father’s death. Several people in town, including the Kim brothers, had come to his burial at the cemetery. Yoongi hoped that Taehyung wasn’t thinking about that day right now.

“Is that why you were so—” Taehyung broke off. “That day.” He didn’t elaborate, and for that Yoongi was thankful.

He didn’t need reminding of the day he’d almost fucked Taehyung. It had been a close call. Nothing more than hormones and rage, bitten lips and bruises up against a wall in darkness after the funeral. Yoongi had pulled away just before they’d gone too far. Taehyung had continued to go after him a few times after that, but Yoongi had always pushed him away. Thankfully, none of it had ever been more than a bit of fun to the younger man, and as soon as he found other venues for his sexual needs, he’d let Yoongi be.

“Yes,” he said. “I was so fucking relieved that he was dead, but once he was dead, I had no reason to stay. But I’d already told myself I wouldn’t go back to that life. He was the trigger for both the beginning and end to my involvement in that life.”

Taehyung was silent for several minutes.

“Does Jimin know?”

Yoongi looked up. Taehyung looked properly concerned.

The younger man continued speaking when Yoongi didn’t respond immediately. “I haven’t told him about Jungkook. He—the first time I saw Jungkook here in the saloon, Jimin told me to never get involved with him because he was bad. I still haven’t told him.”

Yoongi sighed and pushed his hair back, grimacing. “He doesn’t know. He only knows that Jungkook and I were close. He’s known for a while about that.” He let out a self-depreciating laugh. “Do you remember the train attack the day Jimin arrived? That was Jungkook and his gang’s doing.”

Taehyung’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really?”

“Yes. And Jimin’s still—he’s still affected by it. It was a terrifying experience for him. He despises Jungkook—rightfully so—and hates all road agents.” He sighed. “I can’t tell him that I spent more than fifteen years of my life as a road agent. That I was the one to turn Jungkook into one of the best road agents there are.”

 They held each other’s gaze for a long, tense moment. Then, Taehyung turned away and heaved out a sigh.

“I won’t tell him. And I won’t tell anyone else. If you decide to tell him…well, that’s your story to tell, anyway. But he’s your husband, and I think he deserves to know.”

 

*

 

Jimin closed his eyes, trying to regulate his breathing. His husband’s lips and tongue moved along his throat, creating sensitive spots that triggered sparks and tingles in his lower regions. Jimin’s hands were still where he had been kneading dough for bread. Yoongi had been trying to help him get better at baking and cooking, because Jimin continued to struggle without a recipe. Whenever Jimin tried to wing it without one, the food tasted too bland, too strong, or the meat came out too tough. He had no idea how Yoongi managed to make such delicious food without always looking through the cookbooks.

However, as what often happened when they were in close quarters of one another, a little tease turned into a bit of a grope, which turned into a quick kiss, and now here they were, Jimin pressed up against the kitchen table as Yoongi sucked dark bruises onto his neck. Jimin’s hands pressed into the dough, not even noticing the bubbles forming between his fingers as he unconsciously squeezed the soft material and pushed down.

With his hips pressed directly against the table edge, his stiffening cock was trapped and unable to lift freely.

Jimin had the sense that Yoongi was murmuring words against his skin, but he couldn’t really hear them. He shuddered when a particularly strong spike of pleasure was paired with his husband grinding his hard cock against his buttocks and as a result Jimin’s front was almost painfully rocked against the wooden table edge.

When the dough bubble burst over Jimin’s hands, he startled and opened his eyes to look down. Oh—if they didn’t stop soon, the dough would be wasted.

“Y—Yoongi,” Jimin spoke up, his voice curving off in a whine. “Yoongi, we shouldn’t; not right now. Please.”

Yoongi hummed questioningly against his skin, licking and sucking hard. One of his hands was underneath Jimin’s shirt, stroking his stomach and quickly moving up toward his chest.

“Yoongi,” Jimin put more strength into his voice. “We can’t waste the ingredients.”

Yoongi paused, sighed, and then pulled away. Jimin felt almost cold at the loss. “Okay, okay; you’re right, of course.”

Jimin glanced over his shoulder. “Later?”

Yoongi smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Later,” he agreed.

It took them a moment or two to get back into the right mindset, but soon enough they were back to business, light-heartedly bickering whenever Jimin forgot to do something correctly.

“Why do I even have to learn?” he whined. “Your cooking is far more delicious. Why don’t we just eat your cooking all the time?”

Yoongi laughed. "Because maybe there will be times when I can’t cook, sweetheart.”

“What? Why? Are you leaving?”

“Of course not. I’m talking about when we have things to do, and maybe I’m too busy to cook, but you have time.”

Jimin knew Yoongi was being realistic, but he just always felt so bad when he wasted perfectly good ingredients by creating an awful meal.

When the dough was safely in the cook stove oven, together they worked to prepare the roast. At one point, Jimin looked up to find Yoongi watching him with a soft expression on his face. Rather than respond vocally, Jimin felt his face heat up and he immediately looked down again, feeling warm all over.

He quite liked it when Yoongi looked at him like that.

He peeked up through his peripheral to see if his husband was still watching, and he bit his lip when he saw that yes, indeed, Yoongi still had on that same expression as he observed Jimin. There was a bit of amusement added now, though.

Later that evening, after they had cleaned up the kitchen from supper, and were settling into their usual places in the sitting room to read before heading to bed, Jimin climbed onto Yoongi’s lap to press against his husband. Yoongi set the newspaper down to the side and wrapped an arm around Jimin’s waist just how he liked it as they slowly kissed. Jimin hummed into the kiss, feeling warm and full and sleepy.

He loved the feel of Yoongi’s tongue in his mouth; hot and demanding, knowing exactly what he wanted and knowing how to take it. He loved the way Yoongi’s entire hand could grasp one side of his ass and squeeze it so tightly, claiming him.

“Mmh,” Jimin murmured, idly rubbing himself against Yoongi. “Yoongi.” He pressed forward for another, deeper kiss, opening his mouth more, curling his tongue around his husband’s. He could feel the neediness quickly rising within him. “Yoongi,” he murmured again, “want to—want to—” he didn’t want to stop kissing him.

“Hm?” Yoongi pulled away just enough to speak against the side of his mouth. “What do you want, Jimin?”

“Want…I want you to—I want you to be rough with me tonight. I want to feel that way tonight.”

Yoongi’s grip on him tightened. “Yeah?”

Jimin nodded against him, trying desperately to kiss him even while he wanted to explain himself. He was feeling so soft, and cared for, but he wanted to truly feel something. Taehyung’s words drifted through his mind. He didn’t need anyone beside his husband, because his husband knew exactly what he needed. Yoongi even sometimes knew what Jimin himself didn’t know he needed.

“Yeah. Want—want—please. Want it. Want you.”

Yoongi groaned and held him tighter. “My perfect little husband,” he said lowly. “I’ll make you feel everything.”

Jimin rubbed himself against him more, whining when a hand made him stop.

“We’re gonna make you last a long time tonight, yeah?”

“Please.”

“Will you stand up for me, sweetheart?”

Jimin awkwardly shuffled backward off of the chair and stumbled to his feet.

“Take your clothes off for me. All of them.”

Burning under the gaze of his husband, Jimin slowly unfastened each piece of clothing, letting them drop to the floor by his feet. His nipples stiffened in the air, even though the fire kept the room toasty. When Jimin was completely naked, Yoongi took his time to observe him, making him feel more and more vulnerable under his stare. Jimin gasped when Yoongi suddenly stood up.

Jimin was pulled aggressively against his husband and kissed hard. Yoongi’s clothing was rough against his skin, and Jimin stumbled backward several steps to avoid his toes being caught by Yoongi’s boots stepping forward. He was backed up until he felt the desk press against his ass.

A moment later he was turned around and shoved down.

Yoongi took his sweet time fingering Jimin open, one slick digit at a time, stretching him until he was trembling and whimpering against the hard surface of the desk. When he finally sank into him, pressed flush against his body until his cock was as deep as it could go, Jimin nearly sighed in relief. He clenched around the thick intrusion, and rolled his hips a little, enjoying the way his heartbeat quickened even though they weren’t even really moving yet.

He could hear Yoongi rustling around, and his body shifted just slightly inside before Jimin heard the sound of clothing dropping onto the floor. He peeked back and saw that Yoongi had removed his shirt. He now stood tall behind him, shirtless and with his muscles already flexed as if he, too, couldn’t wait to use his strength on Jimin.

“Yoongi,” Jimin moaned softly.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Yoongi smirked.

Jimin didn’t have time to even respond, because the next second his husband had drawn nearly completely out and then immediately sank back in, drawing a long moan from Jimin’s throat. He grasped the edges of the desk as his entire body lit up in pleasure.

Yoongi didn’t fuck him quickly, but inside moved almost slowly and leisurely. Jimin let himself enjoy it for a while until it just wasn’t enough. He was getting pushed so close to that sweet spot but just not quite close enough. It was turning into torture.

“H—harder.” Jimin choked on a gasp. “Please.”

Yoongi gripped Jimin’s hips tighter and sharply thrusted into him, going as deep as he could. He instantly drew out before plunging right back in. He did this faster and rougher, the sound of their skin slapping together loud in the room. Jimin cried out and squeezed his eyes shut as he held onto the edge of the desk. His legs were shaking, and when he felt the warmth of Yoongi’s cum suddenly fill him, he moaned loudly.

He knew that Yoongi, too, was getting used to pushing himself beyond his orgasms, because he continued to fuck into Jimin, pushing his cum in again and again. Jimin clenched around him and hiccupped as he experienced a false orgasm, vision going partially white when he was pulled back from the edge just before he could come. He hadn’t even realized Yoongi’s hand was clamped around his cock, holding his climax back.

“Uhnng,” Jimin whimpered, legs threatening to buckle under him. There was an increasing, burning heat growing inside him with every inward thrust. As his husband’s cock dragged and pushed at his inner walls, Jimin panted and gasped for air. He felt like he was being swung back and forth, ready to be hurled over a cliff into fire.

Abruptly, a hand pressed against his lips. It was coated with semen, and Jimin moaned as he opened his mouth eagerly, letting Yoongi spread his cum around his tongue, filling him with the taste of his release. Jimin licked and sucked at his fingers, mind full with the thought that his husband knew exactly what he needed.

Behind him, Yoongi grunted and groaned with every movement, intensely vulgar words and sweet praises mixing together in between. His large hands were now both holding Jimin’s hips in a locked embrace, thumbs digging into the soft flesh of his ass. Jimin could almost picture the way Yoongi’s cock was entering him, plunging deeply every time. Squeezed tightly between Jimin’s clenching walls.

The heat was turning sharp and almost painful. Jimin’s head was floaty, agonizing pleasure fogging all thoughts. Vaguely, Jimin could hear his own voice turning squeaky and overwhelmed, breathy as he struggled to breathe through the stimulation.

“Fuck,” Yoongi groaned loudly, breathlessly. “Fuck, Jimin—”

His thumbs pulled Jimin’s buttocks apart, spreading his hole open wider, and when Yoongi kicked up the pace suddenly, Jimin shrieked with the force of another orgasm. He began panting, gasping for breath with every thrust his husband made.

When Jimin started sobbing uncontrollably, however, Yoongi pulled out of him quickly, turned Jimin around, and gathered him into his arms.

“I’ve got you, Jimin, sweetheart; I’ve got you. You’re all right.”

Jimin buried his face in Yoongi’s neck, nearly hyperventilating as he tried to control himself. He could feel the strength of Yoongi’s arms holding him up. He could feel semen dripping down his inner thighs. He whined sharply, almost like a child, and pressed closer. He couldn’t even speak.

Yoongi continued to speak soothing words against him, holding him close and rocking him as Jimin cried through whatever it was that had taken over him. He had absolutely no control over his sobs, and the only thing he knew he needed was to be close.

He was only vaguely aware of them moving through the house, his feet tripping and dragging along the floor until he went horizontal and the soft cushioning of their bed met his body. He heaved deep lungfuls of air, feeling a little fuzzy, a little dizzy, and whimpered when he felt Yoongi leaving him.

He cried quietly, muffling his sobs into the blankets until he felt hands on his thighs and his legs were being gently spread. He shook with an unexpected tremor, whining sharply when a wet cloth pressed against his abused, gaping hole. Spots filled his vision.

“—nngi…” he slurred around a suddenly thick tongue. His head felt heavy. He flinched at every press of the cloth-covered fingers between his cheeks, cleaning the mess.

When a fingertip brushed accidentally against the skin just under his testicles, Jimin made an overwhelmed, guttural noise and choked as he dry orgasmed one last time.

Everything faded away.

 

*

 

“Fuck, I’m sorry—!”

Yoongi stared down at Jimin where he lay unconscious. Fucked out of his mind, somehow still looking more beautiful than ever. Yoongi felt guilty for how he loved the way Jimin looked right now. Cheeks flushed, a few tears stuck to his dark lashes, drying streaks down his cheeks. Lips still swollen from all of their kissing before. Hole positively gaping where Yoongi’s cock had made it its home.

Jimin lay limply, naked and so overstimulated that his mind hadn’t been able to cope. That his body had shut down.

Yoongi frowned at the way his cock twitched.

He’d always had rough sex in his youth. Angry sex, shoved against barn walls or against the ground. He’d always had to show his power and dominance back then, because it was a fight for control, and Yoongi was never going to give up his.

Jimin wasn’t like any of those lovers, though. Although Jimin wasn’t delicate by any means, there was still an element to him during sex when the younger man seemed to allow himself to be vulnerable and feel everything on such an intense level that it caused him to become this way. It was a strange push and pull for Yoongi. On the one hand, it caused him to want to be gentle and protect his husband. On the other, it made him want to see how far he could push him. He certainly didn’t want to hurt Jimin, but at the same time…seeing him squirm underneath him, helpless, made Yoongi so hard he could explode.

Yoongi was hard right now. He swore quietly and looked down at his erection, still smeared white with his own sticky release over the dark, flushed, throbbing skin. He reached down and gripped himself, trying to be quiet. He bit his lip and squeezed himself, twisting his wrist.

It hurt. It fucking burned, but his cock ached like hell in need of another release.

Eyes on his unconscious husband, Yoongi frantically jerked himself off, panting erratically and groaning loudly the closer he got to his climax. He stared at Jimin’s open mouth, at his plump lips that always looked so perfect stretched around his cock. He stared at his husband’s small hands which couldn’t even reach fully around the girth of him. He stared at the blossoming bruises where he’d held Jimin’s thighs too strongly. Bruises that had been coated with white gushing from his hole just minutes before.

Yoongi gasped sharply when his orgasm crashed over him. He swore at himself when his cum splattered all over Jimin’s face and then curved across his chest and belly when he tried to turn away.

“Fuuuuck.”

Yoongi partially collapsed onto the bed, leaning over his soiled husband. He couldn’t help himself when he leaned down to gently kiss those perfect lips and lick the mess from them.

 

*

 

March passed faster than Jimin expected. Yoongi didn’t want to make a fuss about his birthday, not thrilled about turning another year older, but even so, Jimin baked a small sweet potato pie for them to enjoy together. They also consumed a hefty amount of alcohol, which Jimin was sure Yoongi enjoyed more than the pie.

(He also seemed to very much enjoy Jimin drinking him down.)

When the snow finally disappeared everywhere except in the mountains, Jimin spent more and more time outside. He had been reading Yoongi’s books about plants, wanting to be able to recognize flowers and edibles along his hikes.

Sometimes, Yoongi joined him, but more often Jimin would explore on his own. Now, he was down by the river, enjoying the sunny weather, happily spotting signs of spring. Sagebrush buttercups were the first flowers he noticed, their bright yellow petals popping up through dead leaves like bursts of sunshine.

He removed his shoes, carefully setting them by the trunk of a tree where he had already set his rifle down—Yoongi always insisted that he go armed if he was out on his own. Especially around now, when hibernating bears could be rousing and grumpy. Jimin removed his socks as well, and tucked them into each shoe, before he gingerly walked barefoot over the stones toward edge of the water. He gasped sharply at the first touch, dipping his toe in. The water was freezing. Even so, he waded just at the edge for a few minutes, enjoying the water around his feet.

Above him, Jimin could hear birds calling to each other in the trees. Little yellow-green leaf buds and red leaf buds were visible throughout the bare branches, promising lush foliage soon enough. Tilting his head back and closing his eyes, he took in a deep, deep breath of fresh air and held it inside for a long moment before releasing it slowly.

He could feel life returning to the land. It filled him with energy and cleansed his mind of the little frustrations that had cluttered his thoughts over the winter; just like dust clearing from a window sill that had finally been opened after a long cold season.

Jimin knew that winter wasn’t quite over; Yoongi had warned him that they were sure to get snow through May, but the worst of it was over.

Sometimes, Jimin found it hard to believe how much his life had changed over the last eight months.

Nearly a year ago, Jimin thought he was writing to a woman. He had thought he was leaving his life behind to marry a woman named Yoonji Min. But not only had it not been a woman, but Jimin, himself, had learned so much about his own mind and desires. Looking back, Jimin couldn’t even imagine a life without the passion he knew now.

Was it all passion, though?

Jimin shivered as he attempted to dry his feet off and put his socks and shoes back on. He picked up the rifle, strapping it to his back once more, and continued walking, more slowly this time.

Recently, Jimin had been catching himself lost in his thoughts more often. He’d realized one afternoon at the Jungs’, that the little ways he could see that Hoseok and Becky cared for each other and loved each other was rather similar to his own life with Yoongi.

Jimin knew there was still passion in the Jung couple’s marriage. It was evident in the sly comments, the whispered jokes, and the stolen kisses when they thought no one was looking. Beyond the passion, though, was clear evidence of their love. When Becky was exhausted, her hair in shambles as she tried to mediate a quarrel between the children, and Hoseok would card his fingers through her hair, braiding it along the way and speak soothingly to her. When Hoseok was in a foul mood because coyotes had gotten to the chickens again, and she would firmly shove him into a chair and massage his shoulders while telling him they’ll reinforce the fences and perhaps get a couple of dogs to guard the livestock.

Jimin saw all of this, understanding easily what it meant as an observer…but then he also saw it mirrored in his own interactions with his husband.

Jimin began the trek back to the house, not even caring about the beauty of nature around him as he reconsidered the last several months. He had grown so comfortable in his marriage and in the presence of Yoongi that he hadn’t even stopped to consider what it could start to mean. Even his conversations with Taehyung about being monogamous; it wasn’t just because Jimin only needed one partner. It was because he only needed Yoongi. He didn’t want anyone but Yoongi. He couldn’t even imagine himself with anyone else at this point.

When Jimin came back in view of the house, Yoongi was out by the stable, removing the sleigh runners from the wagon. He heard Jimin’s footsteps and looked up, quickly spotting him. A wide smile spread across Yoongi’s face as their eyes met. Jimin felt warmth blossom in his chest, and he smiled back as he quickened his pace, eager to return into the arms of his husband.

 

…Was this what love felt like?

 

*

 

 

 

Notes:

Well. Now we know (a lot of things). 👀 I'm so curious about your reactions to certain new discoveries...

If you're interested in the telephone thing...https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/barbed-wire-telephone-lines-homesteaders-prairie-america-history Honestly I tried really hard to research how this would actually work, because we'll have a scene later on where they're actually installing them, but....yeah I couldn't figure it out. So I'm just going off the knowledge that back when landlines were a thing, they still worked even when the power was out. 😅

Chapter 11: Chapter XI

Notes:

Sorry for the delay! This chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

Enjoy!

 

Chapter XI

 

As the weather warmed, Jimin was able to return to his workshop more often to do more woodworking. He had a new project in mind, now: a headboard for their bed. Their bed currently had the simplest of headboards, and the more Jimin looked at it, the more he was disappointed. Just because they lived out in the middle of nowhere didn’t mean that their home had to look like a ramshackle shack.

He spent several days drawing out a design for a headboard. Over the last few months he had become more confident in his carving skills, and he wanted to create a beautiful headboard. He also…he also wanted something a little bit sturdier for holding onto for times when he was getting pounded into ecstasy by his husband. He didn’t mention that when he brought up his idea to Yoongi, but it was certainly at the back of his mind.

He drew a design with curling vines and leaf reliefs, a few simple flowers, and some curving ribbon motif he had noticed several times in a few books and catalogs he’d browsed through at the provisions store. Some of the richer families in town could order furniture to be shipped by train from the east or brought by stagecoach from the nearer cities, but Jimin didn’t have any interest in doing that. He had no idea how long it would take to complete the carving, but perhaps in time for their anniversary, if not sooner.

As the ground softened as well, Jimin began to think about starting a garden.

“I can’t believe you’ve managed so long without one,” he mentioned to Yoongi one rainy morning. The valley had a low fog clinging to it. The shadows of taller trees rose from the pale mist, the shorter, rounder ones nothing more than uneven dark mounds scattered throughout the blur. He could see a herd of elk grazing in the far distance.

“I did try a bit, when I first started living here,” Yoongi shrugged. “But everything just died. I think the ground’s no good.”

Jimin raised his eyebrows. “Did you tend to it properly?”

“Tend to it?”

Jimin tried to hide his smile. “Yes. Did you water everything regularly and pull out the weeds? Did you protect the vegetables from hungry animals?”

Yoongi opened his mouth to respond, paused, and then said, “I didn’t have time for that.”

Jimin shook his head with a laugh. “You make time for it. If you want to eat fresh vegetables, that is.”

“We enjoy fresh vegetables. We support our neighbors.”

“You’re so stubborn,” Jimin sighed, still smiling. He really had trouble not smiling around his husband these days. Even when Yoongi was being stubborn, or when they had a minor argument. It was especially bad when Yoongi was being sweet, though. Whether they were sweet words, or gestures, everything seemed to cause Jimin’s heart to expand.

Jimin even found silly excuses to watch Yoongi when he was doing work around the house outside or in the stable, or with the horses. Whenever Yoongi noticed his mostly useless presence, he would tease him, and Jimin either got flustered—or if the tone was right, he would tease right back.

Ever since Jimin’s realization of the shift of his feelings toward Yoongi, Jimin became a little obsessed with making sure he was not mistaken. He’d never fallen in love before. Was it just lust, or was it love? They were so sexually active that sometime he wasn’t sure if it was the cloud of sex that was tricking his mind. Feeling dependent on his husband in those moments, feeling cared for, and craving his touch and attention. Or was it more?

Jimin kept all of these thoughts to himself, gradually coming to terms with them and deciding that, yes, it might certainly be love. After all, he certainly didn’t feel lust when he spotted Yoongi slip in some mud and get splattered all across his lower body, but Jimin nearly fell over himself as he burst into laughter and went over to help.

It also certainly wasn’t lust when Yoongi had a bit too much drink the night before, woke up with a hangover, and didn’t bother to shave or even comb his hair as he moaned and groaned in misery about not being able to recover the way he could when he was young. Jimin just cooed at him and helped him cook up a remedy.

Jimin couldn’t tell what Yoongi’s feelings were, though. From the very beginning, Yoongi had always been caring, kind, and now of course he was even more so, but with that extra touch of playfulness. Then, there were times when Jimin would feel eyes on him and look up to find his husband staring at him. He’d smile when he was caught, and then return his attention to whatever he’d been doing.

Jimin knew it was silly to be afraid of saying something; after all, they were already married, and Yoongi had even stated in his advertisement that he wanted more. There was no reason to be embarrassed about being in love with his husband. But the feelings were just too fresh, too potent, and they left him feeling breathless and vulnerable at times.

Now, as Yoongi tended to the horses, Jimin scoped out where he could put a garden. He walked through the wet grass, trying to plan where would be best to plant certain things. He had read up about some of the most common vegetables to plant, learning about what kind of sunlight they needed, how much water, and their different stages of growth. He would certainly have to find a way to protect them from the deer, but he didn’t think there was a way to prevent any of the tunneling animals.

There was a stretch of grass behind the house which usually received a lot of sunlight, so he took some large dead branches and laid them out on the ground to mark up where he would need to till with a shovel or a hoe. (He would also need to check if they needed any gardening tools from town.)

Jimin heard Yoongi’s footsteps approaching around the side of the house, but he didn’t look up from where he was crouching, testing the softness of the soil. After a moment, though, he glanced up. Yoongi’s eyes were not on his face, but on his ass, and he had not yet noticed that Jimin was looking back at him. Forcing himself not to smile, Jimin purposely raised himself up so that he was still bent over, but his rear was up in the air and on full display. Yoongi groaned loudly, immediately caught Jimin’s smirk, and strode over.

Jimin gasped sharply when his hips were grabbed in a strong grip, and his husband pressed himself up against him. The bulge of his cock in his trousers rubbed right between Jimin’s cheeks. He was already semi-hard.

“Yoongi,” Jimin murmured, completely forgetting what he had been doing before. He hung bent-over, somewhat awkwardly, allowing the older man to hold him and grind against him for a moment. He desperately wanted to feel the cock right now, but they had no oil outside, and saliva just didn’t do the trick—they’d certainly gone to that measure before, but it always left chafing.

“Sweetheart,” Yoongi groaned. His thumbs and fingers were digging into Jimin’s hips possessively, and Jimin could already feel his body reacting.

Jimin carefully straightened up and managed to turn just enough so they could kiss. Yoongi did not hold back, taking complete control of his mouth, tasting and pulling and probing until Jimin was breathless. Without saying a word, Jimin suddenly broke the kiss and dropped to his knees and reached for Yoongi’s belt.

They hadn’t been intimate like this out in the open yet, and Jimin felt a dangerous thrill course through him. They were still hidden from the valley and the road in case travelers came through, but being out in the open with nothing but the sky around them felt thrilling.

“Fuck. Yes,” Yoongi expelled, putting his hands on Jimin’s shoulders as he unfastened his jeans and exposed Yoongi’s cock to the air.

Jimin wrapped both hands around the base and began to stroke him gently, almost like a massage. As he felt the shaft harden in his hands, he lowered himself to sit back on his heels as he brought the tip to his lips and kissed it. He gradually brought more of the head into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, dipping his tongue into the foreskin and relishing in the way Yoongi shuddered.

Yoongi groaned above him and carded his fingers through Jimin’s hair. Jimin’s knees were soaking up the moisture from the grass, but he didn’t care about that. He tried to keep his eyes open to watch Yoongi’s face as he slowly bobbed his head and savored every taste of his husband’s cock. It was warm in his mouth, throbbing against his tongue. The scent of musk was strong in Jimin’s nostrils, and he involuntarily clenched around nothing.

He shifted on his knees and lifted himself up a little to pull Yoongi deeper. His quiet moan was cut off by a brief gagging noise when he took the cock deep into his throat and pressed his face against Yoongi’s groin. He paused there for a long, staggering moment to enjoy the way Yoongi swore and struggled above him. The hand in his hair tightened and flexed a few times before shakily resuming running blunt fingers through the strands.

Jimin carefully moved down again, sucking lightly and humming as soon as the head was out of his throat. Waiting until he met Yoongi’s eyes, Jimin rose up and pushed him deep once more.

“Fucking perfect,” Yoongi groaned. “Taking me so well, sweetheart. Making me go mad with your mouth.”

Jimin continued with the slow, almost delicate pleasuring of his husband’s cock for several minutes, making himself a little lightheaded. He continuously teased Yoongi closer and closer to the edge without stimulating him enough for him to truly climax.

“Jimin,” Yoongi gasped. “Jimin, Jimin, god dammit. I need—oh, lord. I’m close—fuck.”

Jimin drew back down his length, suckling him gently until just the tip of his head was nestled between his slick lips. Yoongi’s grip in his hair was almost painful.

“Sweetheart, let me—ughh—let me—can I fuck your throat?”

Jimin considered it for a moment as he pushed himself back up to slowly take the entire member back into his throat. He closed his eyes for a moment, shuddering and feeling the way his throat constricted. Yoongi’s large hand curved around the back of his skull to hold him there, pushing him closer. Jimin’s mind felt pleasantly light.

“Jimin.”

Without pulling off of him, Jimin opened his eyes and nodded. Yoongi stared at him for a second before he seemed to understand.

“Yes?” he asked. “Can I?”

Jimin nodded again.

Yoongi let out a long groan and then took Jimin’s head between his hands. His grip was still gentle, but when he drew out, the pop from Jimin’s throat was a little jarring. He let his cock drag upwards along Jimin’s tongue before thrusting back into his throat. Jimin loosened  his jaw and tilted his head a little more to accommodate him and lessen the potential pain. Every time it entered his throat, the foreskin would roll back, the smooth tip sinking down and sliding against his esophagus.

The older man started slowly; gradually quickening his pace. Jimin tried to keep watching him, loving the way his eyebrows were furrowed and his face was contorted in a mix of frustration and pleasure, but he had to close his eyes after a moment because it was too much. Yoongi’s movements became more and more erratic and jerky the closer he drew toward his climax. The unpredictability of the way his mouth and throat were being used sent sparks of excitement and submissiveness to his mind, while simultaneously shooting surges of heat directly down to his own ignored cock. Jimin pressed one hand against his crotch to squeeze himself.

Vaguely, he was aware that he was making obscene, vulgar noises as his husband used his mouth to chase his own pleasure. When Yoongi began to curse in abandon, fucking harder into his throat, Jimin knew he must be close.

Abruptly, Yoongi pulled completely out, seized Jimin by the jaw, and tilted his head up to press his cock head against his lower lip. The first splash of release hit the top of his mouth, and then as Yoongi continued to ejaculate, the warm, creamy semen coated his tongue and filled his mouth.

Jimin waited until Yoongi had finished coming before he swallowed everything and then closed his lips around the tip to carefully suck the last drops as he gently pumped him.

They were both silent for a few moments, catching their breaths. Yoongi helped Jimin stumble to his feet and then immediately noticed the tenting of Jimin’s trousers. Jimin sucked in a sharp breath when his husband’s hand cupped his aching cock through the material of his clothing.

“Yes?” Yoongi whispered against his lips. Jimin could only nod, realizing that he was leaning heavily against him. He lifted his arms to wrap around Yoongi’s shoulders, and when cool air met his sensitive skin, he shuddered. The cool air was quickly replaced by a warm, calloused hand.

Yoongi made quick work of him. Within practically seconds, Jimin was whimpering into his neck and clinging to him to stay upright as his cock was pumped and squeezed.

“Turn around,” Yoongi murmured with a rough voice, pausing suddenly.

“What?” Jimin protested.

Yoongi used one hand to remove Jimin’s arms and then turned him so he was leaning back against his front instead. Then his hand immediately resumed jerking Jimin off almost aggressively.

“Yoongi—!”

Jimin’s eyes rolled up as his release hit him. He heard his cum splatter across the grass, and his legs buckled.

“My beautiful husband,” Yoongi groaned into his ear, continuing to stroke Jimin through his orgasm until he began to shake and gasp harshly.

Jimin leaned against him, listening to his heartbeat gradually slow. He didn’t want to move, but Yoongi tucked him back into his trousers and then whispered against his ear.

“We should return to the house. I think the rain’s returning.”

As they stepped back inside, Jimin wanted nothing more than to bring his husband to bed for the rest of the day, but alas they could not lazy away the day like that.

Well. Maybe just a little.

As the rain began to hit the roof loudly, Jimin let his husband take him back to bed where they undressed and kissed until they both grew hard again, and then Yoongi slowly fucked him until Jimin was a mess of tears and whimpering, filled from both ends with his husband’s release.

 

*

 

Over the next few weeks, Yoongi kept expecting Taehyung to betray him and say something to Jimin. He would glance at Yoongi as if trying to see into his mind, observing the way Yoongi and Jimin were acting together. But then he would seem to see that the secret was still just that; a secret—and he’d resume his playful banter with Jimin.

Yoongi didn’t see the point in telling Jimin anything. That life was long in the past. He wasn’t the same person anymore. He had long ago seen the error of his ways, so there was no reason to bring up the past.

Eventually, the worry that his secret would be revealed faded, and it fell to the back of Yoongi’s mind.

 

 

“Should I respond to all of them?”

Yoongi was sitting at the saloon bar one Saturday afternoon, enjoying a well-deserved whiskey. Namjoon sat beside him, several open envelopes and their letters scattered upon the wood in front of him. The thirty-year-old man had his head in his hands as he rested his elbows on the bar.

“How many did you get?” Yoongi asked him.

“Eight,” Namjoon groaned.

Yoongi snorted. “You should be happy about that. I only got two responses for my advertisement. Jimin and one other man, although the other man stopped responding after the first letter.”

“So you wrote back to both of them?”

“Well, yeah, ‘cause there were only two. But with eight…I’d pick your top two or three and write back to those ones.” He took another sip of his whiskey. “Be careful, though. You don’t want to lead them on too much, because you might get a crazy woman who comes looking for you when you suddenly stop writing after sweetening her up too much.”

Namjoon groaned. “What did I get myself into?”

Yoongi reached over to pat him on the back. “Relax, Joon. Here—right now, is there one letter that’s a clear no from you?”

Namjoon shuffled through the letters, skimming their contents for what was probably the dozenth time, before picking up one.

“This one, I guess. She doesn’t sound too educated because her spelling’s all over the place—”

Yoongi reached over, and tore up the letter. When Namjoon gasped angrily, he held up a placating hand. “There. One down. We can’t have a teacher in town who doesn’t know how to spell proper.”

Namjoon’s shoulders relaxed a bit, and he nodded. “You’re right.” He cleared his throat. “You’re right,” he said again, sounding a little more confident. He looked through the letters again. “I liked this one,” he pointed, “Miss Rosalie Thomas. Very neat handwriting, studied history and art, comes from a family of seven.”

“Are you picking a colleague, or a wife?” Yoongi quipped, only half joking.

“A wife,” Namjoon huffed.

“Right. Then you’ve got to think about all of the other things.”

“Other things?”

“Well, let’s be realistic, here. I assume you want to be attracted to her?”

Namjoon cleared his throat. “Yes, of course.”

“Okay. Do you know what any of these ladies look like? Because I’ll say, I was quite lucky with my husband being the most beautiful in the land, but I do think a photograph or something might have been helpful. Perhaps.”

Yoongi paused, reflecting. If he’d included a photo, would Jimin have come all the way to Montana knowing he was to be marrying a man? Not that it was something to be encouraged, but it certainly worked out for them, and maybe Jimin wouldn’t have even considered him otherwise.

“Well, they each have descriptions of themselves. But I don’t particularly feel drawn toward one over the other with that.”

“And the others? There was Rosalie; what about the others you liked?”

Namjoon picked out two more letters. “Georgia Allen, and…Florence Evans, I think.” He glanced between the two. “Georgia comes from a farming family, she plays piano and the fiddle. She has three brothers, and she…” he skimmed through the letter, “she’s been teaching at her local school for three years.”

“And Florence?”

“She’s been helping with her family’s florist shop, and has an interest in botany and dendrology.”

Yoongi shook his head, blinking exaggeratedly. “Pardon me, what now?”

Namjoon gave him an unamused look. “The study of plants, and of trees.”

“Ah. Yes, of course. Again—are you looking for a colleague or a wife?”

Namjoon ignored him this time. “Florence said she hopes to have a family and is very fond of children.”

“There you go. That’s more like it.” Yoongi knocked back the last of his whiskey, savoring the last burn down his throat. “ Write back to those three, and see if anything comes of it. There’s no rush, you know. If they don’t work out, then you can try again. I recommend you talk about more than just the ‘-ologies.’”

“Right.”

 

*

 

When Yoongi got back from hunting one morning, he noticed that there was no smoke coming up from the chimneys of the house. He frowned, shifting the two rabbits he’d trapped which were hanging from one shoulder. It was still chilly; he could see his breath puffing out in front of his face as he walked, so it didn’t make sense that Jimin wouldn’t have wanted to start a fire.

He paused to kick off as much mud from his boots as possible before he headed inside. It was completely silent in the house. As he stepped into the kitchen, he could see that Jimin hadn’t made himself any breakfast.

“Jimin?” he called out. Perhaps he was outside in the barn, and Yoongi just hadn’t noticed.

But no—as he poked his head in through the doorway of their bedroom, his eyebrows rose to see that Jimin was still in bed, fast asleep. Yoongi chuckled and walked over to the bed.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” he spoke, patting the lump that was his husband’s ass. “It’s nearly noontime.”

“Mmm?” Jimin groaned softly, shifting a little under the covers. He slowly blinked up at Yoongi but then snuggled deeper into the blankets and closed his eyes again. He shivered.

“It’s not that cold,” Yoongi teased.

Jimin’s eyebrows pinched and he drew in a ragged sounding lungful of air before letting out two coughs.

Oh. Yoongi reached forward to touch Jimin’s forehead. It was warm, but not terribly so. It could have just been from being bundled in blankets.

Over the course of the day, Yoongi continued to check in on Jimin. He brought tea and broth to him, helping him to sit up in bed as he slowly drank. Jimin struggled to eat the bread, complaining that he wasn’t hungry. Yoongi just dipped it into the broth until it was soggy and hand-fed it to him until his husband pushed him away.

As Jimin’s temperature rose, though, and his condition worsened over the course of multiple days, Yoongi became more concerned. He wiped the sweat from Jimin’s body with warm water and soap, and then helped him change into fresh clothing. He helped him to the toilet to relieve himself. Despite his usual strength, Jimin seemed to have lost his energy, requiring Yoongi to hold him up and nearly carry him between the rooms. Jimin apologized to him in humiliation, again and again, as Yoongi helped him perform menial tasks.

It made Yoongi uneasy, seeing Jimin so weak. He pressed kisses to Jimin’s forehead each time he sat up or settled down. He held his hand, lacing their fingers together and playing with the delicate tips of his fingers.

Yoongi left Jimin briefly to reach out to the Jungs, feeling at a loss of what to do. Tending to his ailing father had been entirely different. It also didn’t help that the idea of losing Jimin struck an almost paralyzing sense of dread into him. Yoongi had looked after his father out of obligation and a sense of duty despite his hatred. Jimin, on the other hand, was his husband. His precious, caring husband. He couldn’t lose him.

 

*

 

Jimin got worse before he got better. He was ill for an entire week, during which he began to wonder if this was how he would go, just like his parents. There was no doctor in the Crossing, but Becky came by one day with some medicines and remedies.

The medicine seemed to draw Jimin’s cough out even more, before settling into a weaker, rattling cough that didn’t hurt his chest nearly as much. He became almost delirious from the drug, though. He didn’t remember much of what happened after that. During one of his more lucid moments, he could have sworn he saw Yoongi crying silently as he brushed aside Jimin’s hair from his forehead. It was a wild thought, though, so Jimin was sure he imagined it.

Eventually, Jimin woke up with the daylight one morning, and although he still felt weak in body, he felt clear-headed and ready to go along with his day. He pushed aside the blankets, careful to not wake Yoongi, and he gingerly put his feet on the cold floor.

It felt wonderful to use the bathroom in privacy, and to dress himself. He shaved until he was smooth again, patting his hollowed cheeks. Yoongi woke up with a start when Jimin shut the wardrobe with a louder click than he intended.

“Jimin—you’re—”

Jimin smiled back at him. “I’m better, I think. I feel much better.”

Yoongi quickly got out of bed. “Don’t push yourself too hard all at once,” he cautioned. “Let me…” he trailed off. “Are you hungry? I could make you breakfast.”

Jimin nodded. He did feel hungry, for a change. Although he had been forced to eat some food while ill, it was nothing near enough to properly provide him with what he needed.

He followed Yoongi into the kitchen and sat at the table while his husband moved around quickly. He made some porridge with honey, and set down a steaming mug of tea in front of him. He also cooked up some sausages, the smell of which made Jimin’s mouth water in anticipation.

Jimin could only eat a little, but the feeling of a full belly energized him.

It was a few more days before Jimin was back to normal, like nothing had ever happened. Spring was in full bloom, and soon his garden had not only been tilled, but also planted and reinforced by fencing and twine to keep the pesky deer out as much as possible.

“If your garden keeps drawing the deer to the house, I could just hunt from the porch,” Yoongi joked.

Sometime toward the end of April, Yoongi and Hoseok brought the two telephones from town where Seokjin had been holding onto them. They set the first one up on the outside of the Jungs’ farmhouse on the porch, and then they connected them to the barbed wire fencing by a wire running directly from the telephone. The fencing needed to be extended beyond their property until the Min property, which involved putting in several more fence posts.

They decided to place the other telephone between the stable and house, building a small lean-to over the telephone post to hopefully protect it from the weather. One side remained open and facing the Mins’ house. It was all a very rudimentary set-up, but when they were finished and Hoseok returned to his home, Jimin and Yoongi waited impatiently to try the telephone out.

Jimin nearly leapt out of his skin when the telephone suddenly began to ring loudly, the clanging of the bell loud in the silence of the afternoon.

“Go on,” Yoongi urged him forward.

Jimin picked up the earpiece and stepped up to speak into the mouthpiece just as it stopped ringing. When he heard silence, Jimin frowned, turning to look at Yoongi. “Hello?” Nothing. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Put it back and try ringing them, instead.”

Jimin did so, and held the earpiece up to his ear, listening to the metallic ringing that sounded far away. But then it stopped, there was a faint crackling noise, and then a muffled, tinny voice spoke in his ear.

“Hello? Is it working?”

Jimin gasped. “It’s working!” He laughed, staring at Yoongi. “Hoseok, it’s working!”

“Jimin?”

“Yes! It’s working!”

He passed the earpiece to Yoongi to try. He spoke with Hoseok, and then apparently Frankie, and passed it back to Jimin as Alex took the phone from the other end.

“I can really hear them!” the boy exclaimed loudly, and Jimin laughed as he pulled the earpiece away from his ear a little.

“There’s no need to shout, Alex,” he grinned. “I can hear you just fine.”

In the days that followed, Jimin and Yoongi made a habit of ringing the Jungs just to say ‘hello’ and have a small chat. As the wonder began to wear off, they used the telephone less often, but for more useful things, like planning to gather at one or the others’ houses, or to ask if the other needed something. It would still be a while before they could be connected with the town so far away, but for the meantime Jimin liked the feeling of not being so far away from their neighbors as before.

 

*

 

At the beginning of May, Jimin noticed that Yoongi was carefully packing all of the furs he had accumulated over the course of the winter months. He had tanned the hides and cleaned the furs until they were truly beautiful pieces, and then he wrapped them and bundled them up.

“What are you doing with those? Selling at the next market?”

“I’m bringing them to a trading post. It’s farther away; about a five days’ ride, but I’ll get better money for them. I usually do this every spring.”

There was something about the way Yoongi explained it that seemed like he was intending on going alone. Just to be sure, though, Jimin asked.

“Are you…going alone?”

Yoongi seemed to hesitate. “It’s better if you stay here. It’s—it can be dangerous, and I’d feel better knowing you’re safely at home.”

“But—”

“I’ll take Chief with me, and leave Sunny here with you. There’s the garden to think of now, after all,” he pointed out. “There’s no sense in both of us going.”

He was right, of course. Jimin didn’t want to admit it to himself. And Jimin only wanted to go with him because he wanted to spend time with his husband. To say that aloud, however, would be embarrassing. He needed to be realistic. That was how life worked out west.

“So…you’ll be gone for ten days?”

“Probably closer to fourteen. It’s best to stay a few days. I want to sell as much as possible. Usually I don’t return until I’ve sold or traded everything.”

Jimin tried to hide how displeased he was with this plan. On the one hand, he thought it could be nice to travel with his husband, and after being stuck in one place for months, the idea of seeing another place sounded interesting. Yoongi seemed firm in his decision, however.

Jimin felt strange the night before Yoongi left. They spent hours tangled up together in bed, feeling and tasting each other. Jimin let Yoongi push him beyond his senses, submitting fully and explicitly in body and mind. Yoongi fucked him as if he wanted Jimin to feel it for days after; and maybe he did.

He spoke delicious, heated words against Jimin’s skin as he incessantly rubbed his fingers against that sensitive spot inside Jimin long after they had both come. Jimin hiccupped and whimpered where he trembled. He let out a sharp sob as he orgasmed, a weak dribble of cum sliding down his twitching cock.

Yoongi only stopped when Jimin began to loosen up; so overstimulated that he couldn’t even react anymore. After a quick clean-up, they laid together under the blankets, bodies pressed together. Jimin kissed his husband weakly but with all of his remaining energy until they both drifted off to sleep.

In the morning, Jimin pretended to be fine as he helped Yoongi ready Chief with the packs on both sides of his flanks, making sure Yoongi had his guns and ammunition. He left the rifle with Jimin.

“Be safe,” Jimin insisted, pulling away from one last kiss. It was a beautiful day, with a clear blue sky spread across the valley behind Yoongi.

Yoongi smiled at him, giving Jimin one of his half-smirks. “I’ll be back before you know it. Don’t you go running off with one of the men from town while I’m gone, hear?”

Jimin’s mouth dropped open, offended. “I would never!” He gave Yoongi a good whack. “Don’t you go disrespecting our marriage while you’re off on your solo travels!”

“I’d never.” Yoongi seized Jimin around the waist and pulled him close again. “I’d never,” he said again, in a low voice.

Jimin moaned softly as he was kissed slowly and deeply once more. When they broke away finally, Jimin couldn’t prevent the way his eyes watered.

“Come back soon, you hear me?”

Yoongi held him against his shoulder and sighed against his ear. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, sweetheart.” Jimin nuzzled into his neck, inhaling deeply before letting it all out.

Jimin watched as Yoongi began to ride off, toward the east. He watched until his husband was only a speck on the landscape, and then finally he disappeared.

Jimin heaved a sigh and wiped at his eyes. Suddenly he was all alone. Except for Sunny, of course. He stepped into the stable and went over to her stall to bring her out to pasture for the day. It wasn’t the first time Jimin had been alone; they often took turns going into town when the other was busy, which meant that it wasn’t unusual for Jimin to stay at home while Yoongi was in town or at the Jungs’. This somehow felt different, though. Jimin felt Yoongi’s absence.

Eventually, Jimin went about his day as usual. He spent time in the garden, weeding and watering the beginnings of young vegetables. When he finished with that, he decided to do the washing, since the weather was so nice. Uneasy with the silence, he hummed to himself as he went about his daily tasks.

Night time was a different story. Jimin thought he would just be lonely with his husband’s absence, but he wasn’t expecting to be afraid. He realized that every snap of a twig outside, every rustle of branches and leaves could be a wild predator or even a road agent, come to steal from them. What if someone had been watching them and knew Yoongi was gone?

Jimin was jumpy and anxious all evening as he prepared a simple meal for himself and then went right to bed with a book. When he finally extinguished the light, he was surrounded by complete silence, so much so that his ears buzzed. He rolled over in bed, uncomfortable. He thought he could hear mice skittering around in the walls. He rolled over again to face the opposite side, covering his ears with the blankets. Yoongi’s side was terribly empty. He shut his eyes and forced himself to breathe slowly, trying to trick himself into falling asleep.

The first two days were difficult, but then Jimin got into a routine, and he stopped feeling so spooked at night. He spent a lot of time working on the headboard during the days, getting closer and closer to finishing it. On the days when he was truly too lonely, he visited Hoseok to help on the ranch, and Becky to help with the children. Whenever he spent time with them, he left with a smile on his face—and a sack full of delicious food—but by the time he reached his silent home again, that feeling of loneliness crept back.

Close to the end of the first week, Jimin thought he might be nearly finished with the carving for the headboard. He still needed to stain it, of course, but he thought that the carvings were just about done. He wanted to get a better look at it from farther away, but as he walked backward to survey his work, he tripped over the sleigh runners for the wagon. As he moved them aside, he ended up knocking over some tools, sending them onto the floor with a loud clatter.

Jimin paused, still holding onto one of the runners. The sound of the tools hitting the wooden floorboards had sounded odd. While some of them made dull thuds, some of them sounded almost like when he dropped utensils on the table. Like there was empty space below the wood. Hollow sounding.

He set the runner aside and bent to pick up each of the tools. When he shifted to grab the ones that had sounded strange, he felt the wood shift beneath his weight.

“What…?”

He stood up to set the tools back where they had fallen from, and carefully returned to the section of floor. Had an animal tunneled underneath? Or perhaps had the wood started to rot in that area? He pushed aside some of the loose hay that always seemed to be scattered everywhere, and his eyes widened when he saw what was clearly a latch.

“A door?”

Yoongi had never mentioned that there was extra storage in the stable. Jimin tugged on the latch, and after some effort, the floorboards lifted away to reveal an opening just large enough for a grown man to fit through. Jimin stood back up to light one of the lanterns hanging near Sunny’s empty stall and brought it over to the opening.

Jimin felt his heart beating faster than usual; part of him wanted to wait until Yoongi returned and just ask him then, but another part of him was exceedingly curious. Maybe this was from before Yoongi lived here, and even he didn’t know about it. Jimin held the lantern down into the hole and saw that there was a wooden ladder leading down.

In fact, he could even see the dirt ground below, and it was only a few feet down, perhaps not even a full four feet down. He couldn’t see anything from above, so taking a deep breath and hoping there weren’t any spiders or other types of creatures down there, he carefully climbed backward down into the storage area.

When Jimin turned around, hunched over and holding the lantern in front of him, he couldn’t prevent the gasp that spilled from his lips.

Neatly arranged throughout the small room—if he could even call it that—were stacks of paper money tied with string, sacks of what looked like coins, simple wooden boxes filled with gold and silver jewelry with the gems mysteriously missing, and right at the center of it all was a large chest with a broken lock and broken latches that said Wells Fargo & Co.

Jimin knew what it was; it was what the bank used to transport money by stagecoach or train.

There wasn’t a speck of dust or a single cobweb in sight.

 

*

 

 

Notes:

Oopsie. I thought about showing Jimin's reaction in this chapter, but decided to wait until next chapter. 😉
Also, I apologize if the sick part felt rushed...I really struggled with that part, but it was important to include it even if I didn't feel like writing 'sick fic' stuff. 😅

Chapter 12: Chapter XII

Notes:

No, I haven't abandoned this. I've just been very busy, and stressed, and both of those things do not help with writing.

Enjoy ~

 

*

Chapter XII

 

“What in the world?” Jimin stared at the stockpile. He stood there for several long minutes, not even fully understanding what he was looking at. Eventually, though, he stepped forward, closer to the collection, and shined the lantern light over everything.

It was even more overwhelming from up close. Never in his life had Jimin seen so much money. He reached for the opening of one of the sacks, tense as he heard the shifting of metal inside. He reached in and pulled out a shiny Morgan silver dollar. He stared at the eagle on the back with its outstretched wings, and then flipped it over to the front.

E·PLURIBUS·UNUM curved around the top above Lady Liberty’s head. His eyes followed the six stars curving down from the M.

1883

Jimin felt cold drip down his spine. The coin was barely five years old. It looked as if it had never been used. He put it back into the sack. Who had put these here? This couldn’t be Yoongi’s inheritance. The coins were too new. Was this money from before Yoongi returned to Montana Territory?

Perhaps, rather than keep money at the bank, Yoongi had decided to keep it here? Yes, the bank was a very long ride away, but here? It wasn’t safe at all. What if the stable burned down, or someone found it, just as Jimin found it?

Or…did someone else put them here? Although the collection was organized, it had a very distinctive appearance that it was stolen. As if he had stumbled across a loot stash. The broken chest, the bags, which Jimin could now see also had the Wells Fargo Co. stamp upon them, but most especially the ruined jewelry. But then who put them there? Jimin’s first thought went straight to the only road agent he knew: Jungkook. Were these his?

He glanced back up at the opening leading back up into the stable. Jungkook had been in the stable with Yoongi, hadn’t he? But he couldn’t possibly hide this amount of loot without Yoongi knowing.

But then, if Yoongi knew about this money, would Yoongi help him like that? Why would he allow himself to be at risk of being caught for aiding and abetting a criminal? Hiding someone else’s money on his own land, in his own stable?

Unless….

Jimin took a step back.

No. He didn’t want to think about that.

Leaving everything where he found it, Jimin hurried back up the ladder into the eerily normal stable where the headboard still stood against the other wall. He fumbled with the trap door, shoving it back in place and frantically covered it back up with hay.

He extinguished the lantern and hung it back up by Sunny’s stall.

Jimin had to get out of the stable.

Outside, it was breezy. The sky was filled with an assortment of clouds floating through the blue heavens. The valley shifted back and forth with the waving grasses and low trees. He climbed up onto the fence to sit, staring out at the vast, vast wild.

Not once, in the entire time Jimin had been here, had Yoongi said exactly what it was he used to do before coming back to care for his ailing father. He had “traveled” and “worked” but doing what, he had never said. Of course, that didn’t mean much; not everyone wanted to share their past when it was less than ideal. Perhaps he was ashamed of doing lowly work.

Jimin picked at a loose splinter in the fence railing he sat upon.

But then, there came the question of his connection to Jungkook. Jimin knew he had been purposely trying to forget it. He kept telling himself that it was just Yoongi’s past, and that he had no control over his friends. But then again, what was it he had called Jungkook that first time? A protégé. Then…for what exactly had he been mentoring Jungkook?

As Jimin sat there, the clouds drew closer together and grayed. When the first drops of rain began to fall, he didn’t react at first. It was only when Sunny trotted up the hill toward the stable so she could get out of the rain did he hop down and move to open the gate.

Had Yoongi…been a road agent? Was he an outlaw?

That was the thought that kept pushing at his mind.

Jimin was silent as he locked Sunny back into her stall and made sure she was all set before leaving the stable without looking at the hidden trap door.

All of the evidence kept pointing in one direction, but he pushed it away each time.

No, Yoongi was just someone Jungkook knew. He couldn’t have taught Jungkook how to be a criminal.

Jimin sat on the porch bench for a while, staring out through the blurry veil of rain.

No, Yoongi wasn’t an outlaw. He was so well-known in the town. He always followed the rules. He never got into trouble.

Jimin went inside, shutting and locking the door behind him. He lit one of the lanterns.

No, Yoongi couldn’t have stolen that money. He must’ve let Jungkook store it. Temporarily.

The sound of the rain was muffled inside. It felt like his thoughts were muffled, too.

Yoongi had been nothing but kind the entire time Jimin had been there. Even that very first day. Of course, they had the occasional argument. But never anything serious. Jimin had never been given a reason to not trust Yoongi.

The next day, Jimin went back into the stable and looked more purposefully and carefully at the collection. He noticed there were empty sacks, folded neatly to the side. They had once contained coins. Now gone. He picked up a random piece of the loose jewelry. A lady’s bracelet. There were even initials carved on the inside.

Was this Jungkook’s? Or was it Yoongi’s? The more Jimin thought about it, the more he didn’t know. But one thing was very clear: Yoongi had kept this from him. His husband didn’t trust him enough to tell him such an important thing. Even if the stash wasn’t Yoongi’s, he could have at least warned Jimin. Yoongi knew Jimin wasn’t the sort to steal and run off with things.

Then again, Jimin had thought the same of Yoongi. If these were Yoongi’s, and he had stolen them, what else had he stolen? And for how long? Was he still stealing things without Jimin knowing? And was stealing the only thing he had done? Had he ever hurt someone? Killed someone, even?

Was he doing that now? Was that why he hadn’t invited Jimin to come along? Were the pelts just a front to hide a more sinister activity?

Like a whirlpool growing stronger and stronger, sucking him into its depths, Jimin could feel his thoughts pulling him into ever more dangerous waters.

He needed to get away from the stable. Although the ground was still muddy from the previous day’s rain, Jimin saddled up Sunny and headed toward town.

As they rode past the Jungs’ ranch, Jimin let his gaze linger. Did they know anything? They’d been here for a long time, longer than Yoongi, even.

The liveliness of the saloon was like an explosion in Jimin’s ears as he stepped through the doors. While his thoughts had been gray and foggy the entire ride in, the sudden cacophony of sound barraged him with color and laughter from all sides. There was even music playing. He took a deep, shuddering breath as he plastered on a neutral expression and moved through the swell of bodies.

“Why are there so many people here?” he asked in bewilderment once he reached the bar. Seokjin glanced at him only briefly, in the middle of filling a glass of ale.

“Miners,” he said simply. It took him a few minutes to finish with other customers before he could get back to Jimin. “They’re not stopping here; just passing through on their way west,” he elaborated. “What can I get you, my friend?”

Jimin ordered a drink a bit stronger than what he usually had, but Seokjin didn’t comment. Jimin took a ginger sip of the amber liquid once the glass was set in front of him and couldn’t prevent the grimace from wrinkling his nose at the burn. But the burn only made him think about the reason he was there, and he took a braver swallow.

“Is Taehyung here?” he asked Seokjin at one point.

“Not at the moment, no.”

Jimin pursed his lips. “Do you know whereabouts he might be?”

Seokjin shrugged. “Not sure. He’s been out and about with his latest fella.”

“Ah.”

Jimin was halfway through a second drink, aimlessly watching the ebb and flow of patrons, when he was startled by two hands landing on his shoulders.

“Jimin!” Taehyung’s voice in his ear was cheerful and loud. The wide smile on his face was enough for Jimin to push back every crazy thought of telling his friend what he had discovered.

Steeling himself, Jimin plastered a smile onto his own face. “It’s been so lonely, it’s so good to see you!”

Taehyung joined him to have a drink, and they chatted about everything but what Jimin wanted to talk about. His friend must have noticed something was off about him, though, because eventually he suggested they go upstairs. As the noise of the saloon faded away behind him, Jimin could feel his anxiety increase. Should he tell Taehyung? But what if it he told someone else?

No. Taehyung wouldn’t do that.

But…if it was true, and Yoongi was a criminal, then…wasn’t it their responsibility to turn him in?

No. He couldn’t be—there had to be another explanation.

Yet again, Jimin felt himself falling down the endless spiral of what-if.

“Jimin?”

He startled, eyes refocusing on Taehyung’s face. It was much closer than he expected, and as a result Jimin reflexively leaned back.

“What’s wrong?”

“N—nothing. Nothing’s wrong,” he said hurriedly.

Taehyung raised his eyebrows and thinned his lips. “I can spot that lie from a mile away. What’s going on? Did something happen to Yoongi?”

Jimin had opened his mouth to respond to his first question, but the second caught him off guard. He sputtered.

“I—” he stared back at his friend’s frowning face. “I can’t…talk about it.”

Taehyung’s eyes narrowed. Jimin suddenly felt like his gaze had shifted from concerned to suspicious. Almost like he…knew something. But that was impossible, right?

There was nothing to know. Right?

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Jimin said quickly. The lie felt loud in the tiny room. He wanted desperately to talk about it. But if he was wrong…or if he was right, then what?

Taehyung stared hard at him for a moment longer before heaving out a sigh.

“All right. Well, I’m here if you change your mind on that.”

Jimin could only nod.

It was uncomfortably silent for a long moment. The muffled sounds of the saloon below washed over them, and for a moment Jimin didn’t know what was going to happen. But then Taehyung started chatting about mundane things as if they hadn’t ever had that bizarre and uncomfortable conversation.

The more they spoke about other topics, however, the more Jimin began to notice something was off about Taehyung. He had been so overwhelmed with his own worries that he hadn’t even noticed anything at first…but as their conversation shifted, Jimin realized Taehyung seemed almost restless. He was fidgeting more than usual, not sticking to one subject, but instead flying from one to the next, almost as if he, too, was trying to avoid thinking about something unpleasant.

“Taehyung,” Jimin spoke up, interrupting his friend directly in the middle of a sentence, catching his wrist and holding on firmly. “Is something troubling you?”

It was completely silent for too long. Taehyung seemed frozen, eyes wide, until he abruptly stood up and tried to turn away. Jimin was still holding his wrist, though.

“I—”

Taehyung heaved a deep breath.

“I’ve been thinking lately, of leaving.”

Jimin felt like the bottom of his stomach had dropped out. His mouth fell open slightly, as if to ask, ‘what?’ but no sound came out.

“See, spending the winter away from the Crossing…it was exactly what I needed. There’s nothing for me here, Jimin. I realize that, being back. I need adventure. I need excitement. But there’s nothing here.”

“I’m here,” Jimin murmured, unaware of how pleading his voice sounded. His hand had slipped from Taehyung’s wrist, but his friend took his smaller hand in his palm.

“I know. But you have Yoongi, and I have…” he trailed off, sighing again. “Look, Jimin, I can’t stay here. There’s so much more out there for me.”

Jimin knew he was being selfish, not wanting Taehyung to leave. But it felt like all at once everything was threatening to fall apart. He had Yoongi? But what if Yoongi was not who he seemed? What then? Of course, Jimin had the Jungs, and the other Kim brothers, but that wasn’t the same. Taehyung was his only same-age friend. The only one he could really feel such closeness in a way that didn’t feel the same with the others. And if Taehyung left, that connection would be gone.

“When…when would you leave?”

“I haven’t decided yet. No one else knows, either,” Taehyung pointed out. He squeezed Jimin’s hand. Jimin felt like the ground was crumbling. “It probably won’t be for a while, I think. I still have to…discuss it with people.”

 

*

 

“Well, I’ll be! August?! Is that you?”

Sitting at the bar, Yoongi paused at the surprised exclamation, but then turned when he decided the tone was nonthreatening. The face he saw wasn’t immediately familiar. He narrowed his eyes, taking in the pale chestnut eyes and sandy blond hair. The man had an angular, defined jaw, and lean muscles visible through his worn-out cotton shirt. It came to him a moment later, though, when the man puffed up his cheeks and grinned. Yoongi’s eyebrows rose despite himself.

“Jameson?” He recalled a much fuller face, still round with youth. He remembered hair a bit longer, with curls that always got tangled.

The man scoffed and rolled his eyes skyward. “Still on that? It’s James.”

“James.” Yoongi shrugged, and glanced around. “What brings you here?”

Another scoff. “I live here; what brings you here? Haven’t seen you with the boys in a while. They passed through a few weeks ago.” Well, the attitude hadn’t changed much.

“I’m done with that life. Have been for a while.”

James hummed. He brought his glass to his lips and took a long, burning swallow of the amber liquid, if the grimace he pulled was any indication. His eyes roamed up and down Yoongi’s face. Then he leaned forward, close enough so that only Yoongi could hear him.

“I still remember the way you fucked me so good I couldn’t talk, let alone move.”

Yoongi pursed his lips and took a swig of his whiskey. He remembered, too. Although he’d been gentle with Jimin from the beginning, that didn’t use to be the case with his sexual encounters. He used to be a rough, angry lover. Always taking and taking for himself, working off his frustrations and reveling in the power he felt when he was in control, one of the few times he ever felt in control, back then.

In recent months, a little of that dominance he’d enjoyed in his youth had been getting drawn back bit by bit with Jimin’s enjoyment in being completely fucked mindless, but even that wasn’t to the point it used to be. Yoongi didn’t think he could be rough with Jimin in the same way he used to be with his lovers.

“I’m married, now,” he replied, uninterested.

James scoffed, eyes flickering down to the wedding ring on Yoongi’s finger. “So? Your little wifey won’t know if you stick your cock in someone else while you’re away. Come on. Have a little fun like the old days, August.”

“Ain’t got a wife, James. I’ve got a husband.”

James’s eyebrows rose in interest. “Oh? Well isn’t that nice.” He shifted closer. “The offer still stands. He’s not here, is he? He won’t know what you’ve been up to. It’ll stay between us. Wouldn’t you like to sink into this ass a few more times? Hm?”

And while the memory of fucking James was certainly a pleasant one, Yoongi held his ground.

“Sorry, not interested.”

James eventually left him alone, and after one more drink, Yoongi headed out. He took his time walking down the road toward one of the three inns in the large town. The moon was bright in the sky, with wispy clouds floating across it here and there. As he walked past doorways, the sounds from within filtered through, loud one moment and dimmer the next. Boisterous men’s voices, singing, laughter, women’s voices rising and falling.

Having been in the almost constant presence of his husband for nearly a year, now, it was an unexplainable feeling being alone. He was left with the quiet of his thoughts, more aware of his distance from the lifestyle he used to partake in. Before moving back to and settling in Montana Territory, Yoongi’s life had been full of noise and excitement. Never alone, always with at least a handful of others. Every day there were arguments and fights. Adventures, and laughter, and sex. Every day there was an element of danger to keep his blood pumping fast. Every day was gritty and rough. Invigorating.

There were some parts of his previous life that Yoongi missed, at times. But as he aged, and as he fell deeper and deeper in love with his husband, that life felt more and more like a distant, unimportant memory, welcome to be forgotten and buried away.

Yoongi knew he had a good life, now. And he was grateful for it.

There was a couple in the room next to his—probably one of the traders and a prostitute he’d paid for—and as Yoongi shifted around to get more comfortable on the bed, they were not making any effort to be quiet. He heaved a sigh as the woman’s moans grew louder and higher before going silent. The squeaks from the bed and the knocking of the bed against the wall didn’t stop for more than a minute, though. And soon enough her cries grew loud again. Faster, more breathless, and obviously overstimulated.

The conversation from earlier flashed through his mind, and he couldn’t help the memory that resurfaced of fingers tangled in blond curls smudged in dirt and sticky with cum. Sex had always been dirty, back then. Pounding into his lovers as he pinned them down on the dirt or grass, pressing them up against a boulder in the woods. Shoving them against the brick walls, spreading them out across grimy cargo areas on a train they’d snuck onto.

Yoongi grimaced and shook his head. Thankfully a sharp, high-pitched cry through the wall put an image of Jimin into his mind instead, sprawled beneath him on their bed, cock soft and dribbling white on his smooth stomach. Clenching tight around him. A vision of beauty.

Yoongi groaned as he wrapped his hand around his cock. He couldn’t wait to have it sheathed inside his husband again. He thought about the helpless sounds Jimin made while getting fucked. His startled gasps. His whines. It riled Yoongi’s blood and got him fully engorged. He imagined the way Jimin shook after he’d come too many times, whimpering and moaning in a way that only made Yoongi harder and more aroused every time.

He twisted his hand around his throbbing length, squeezing roughly. He imagined those plump lips stretched around it, beautiful brown eyes staring up at him, dark lashes sticky with tears and cum. Throat convulsing around him. White spilling past his lips, coating his tongue.

Yoongi bit his lip and clamped his fingers around the base of his cock when he felt himself get too close. No. Not yet. God, he needed to fuck that pretty mouth, hear him choke. Come all over his face and flip him over to fill him up again until he screamed. Let him ride his cock, his head thrown back, eyes rolling in ecstasy as he cried Yoongi’s name. Oh, he was going to devote an entire day to fucking and tasting his beautiful husband when he returned. No; an entire week. It had been too many days away from Jimin.

He grunted as he began to pump himself again, first slowly, then faster.

“Fuck—”

He snapped his wrist, tightening his grip, feeling the hot coil tighten inside. It wasn’t the same, pleasuring himself like this, but it would have to do until he could be inside Jimin again. Arm starting to ache a little, he pumped himself faster and faster until his ears were ringing with the rush of blood in his head.

By the time Yoongi let himself come, he was fully riled up, panting loudly with his heart beating powerfully in his chest.

 

*

 

Two days later, Jimin was back at the saloon. Only, this time, he didn’t bother with a drink. He’d been thinking everything over, terrifying thoughts tumbling over themselves in his mind, and he knew that he needed to let it out. Taehyung…had trusted Jimin with his secret. And there was no telling how long he would be there for Jimin. If not now, when else would he be able to trust Taehyung with this kind of secret?

He found Taehyung outside the provisions store, on his way out with a packet of letters tied together.

“Back so soon?” he smiled in surprise when Jimin called out to him, hopping down from Sunny and tying her reins to a nearby post. “I’m not leaving just yet, friend.” His voice was low and teasing, although there was a bit of guilt underlying his tone.

“I have to talk with you about something,” Jimin cut right to the chase. “Are you busy? Can we go somewhere private?”

Taehyung’s smile slipped. “Yes, of course; just let me—let me drop these off at the saloon, and then why don’t we take a stroll?”

Jimin waited with Sunny while Taehyung went into the saloon. He was back soon enough. Jimin waited just until they were side-by-side before turning and walking away, looking for somewhere without overhearing ears. Taehyung accompanied him without a word.

They were silent for several minutes as they walked, away from the buildings, out across the Common and toward the very edge of the town.

“I sure hope you aren’t bringing me out here to murder me,” Taehyung said suddenly, and Jimin startled at the abrupt comment. Glancing up, he saw a concerned grin. “You’re not, are you?”

Jimin shoved him lightly. “Of course, not!” He paused and looked around. There was no one in sight. They were truly alone.

“Taehyung.” He grabbed both of his friend’s hands. “You have to promise me you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you. No one.”

The teasing smile dropped. “Is someone in danger?”

“No. Well—” Jimin bit the inside of his lip. “Well, I don’t know. We might, if…if someone knows.”

“Knows what?”

“Promise me.”

“Fine, I promise. Cross my heart. What is it?”

Jimin struggled. If he said it aloud, would it make it true? But what if he was wrong? Even though all of the evidence pointed toward one answer the more he thought about it, what if he was wrong?

He decided to go with the facts as he knew them.

“I found something.” His heartbeat was pounding far too quickly, and he took a shuddering breath to try to steady himself. “I was out in the stable, and I found a trap door I didn’t know about before. That Yoongi never showed me.”

“A trap door? To a cellar or something?”

“Yes. And it’s full of, of stolen money.”

He heard a small intake of breath. “Are you sure it—how do you know it was stolen?”

Jimin gave a humorless laugh. “Because there’s a Wells Fargo chest that’s been broken open, and there are bags and bags of unused coins. Brand-new coins from ’83. And—and women’s jewelry. And stacks of paper money. Also in perfect, mint condition.” He stared hard at Taehyung’s face, trying to read his reaction. But the other man was strangely calm. “Taehyung, there’s so much money, and it’s clearly not supposed to be there.”

He waited for Taehyung to say something, to ask him something. Anything. But he was silent. Waiting for Jimin to continue.

“I think…” Jimin couldn’t tell if it was the wind whistling in his ears or if it was his own blood rushing. “I think Yoongi, I think…he—Yoongi—”

“You think Yoongi stole it.” Taehyung’s tone was serious, all playfulness gone.

Jimin swallowed and nodded.

“Does Yoongi know you know about it?”

Jimin shook his head. “No, he’s still gone. To the trading post, he said. He brought the winter’s pelts.”

“Yes, he does that every year,” Taehyung nodded. He pursed his lips. “What’re you going to do?”

Jimin turned away and shook his head before spinning back, putting his hands on his head. “I don’t know. What should I do? Taehyung, what if I’m right; what if Yoongi really did steal it? What if he’s actually a road agent?”

“Was.”

Jimin paused. “What?”

Taehyung’s eyes widened. “Nothing, I just meant that—”

“Why did you say it like that?” Suddenly Jimin realized Taehyung was taking the news far too calmly. Why wasn’t he surprised? Why did it feel like suddenly he’d been keeping yet another secret from him?

“What do you know?” he couldn’t help the accusation from leaking into his voice. With everything starting to fall apart, the rug getting swept out from under his feet yet again, he felt anger start to course through him. “Taehyung, what do you know that I don’t know?”

“I just—” he frowned, looking frustrated. They held each other’s gaze for an uncomfortable moment before he seemed to make a decision. “Well, even if he was a road agent, he’s not now, right?”

Jimin frowned, tense. “What do you mean?”

“You know Yoongi doesn’t go off stealing things. He makes an honest living. You know that.”

“But then what about—So you do think it was him?”

“I’m not saying that. I just mean that, if it was his—and maybe it’s not—then whatever he did, it’s in the past.”

Jimin couldn’t understand why Taehyung was being so calm about the possibility of Yoongi being a criminal. An outlaw, in fact. Was it seen as less terrible out here? Or perhaps Taehyung just had never suffered directly at the hands of a road agent before. And it wasn’t like Yoongi was Taehyung’s husband. They weren’t nearly as close as Jimin was to Yoongi. He probably expected there to be secrets Yoongi didn’t share. But with Jimin? Yoongi had kept this from him, if it was true.

Taehyung eventually convinced Jimin to head back to the saloon, where he suggested that they have a nice midday meal before Jimin headed home. Although Jimin certainly didn’t feel like eating—he had struggled to eat for the past couple of days, in fact—he begrudgingly followed Taehyung back to the saloon.

When they were midway through their meal, Taehyung stood up and patted Jimin on the shoulder.

“I’ll be right back,” he grinned, and then disappeared into the crowd.

Jimin shrugged and took a short swig of his ale. He glanced down at it, considering, and then tipped it back, slowly but steadily drinking the whole thing. It sloshed in his belly, but it didn’t do much else. He called for a whiskey. The first sip burned nicely, and without thinking much of it, he knocked it back. His food lay abandoned and forgotten. The chatter around him and the buzz in his head blocked out most thoughts. His chest felt warm.

Eventually, though, he realized Taehyung still hadn’t returned. Their food grew cold on the table, unappetizing.  Jimin’s belly began to feel tight, and he shifted uncomfortably, starting to feel the effects of a full bladder. He stood up and glanced around, not seeing Taehyung anywhere. With a shrug, Jimin pushed his seat in and headed toward the door to visit the outhouse.

It was only as he was returning from the outhouse that he noticed the two men behind the saloon. Far too close to be anything other than intimate. Frowning in curiosity, Jimin kept on his course back toward the saloon door—but then stopped abruptly when he suddenly recognized exactly who the two kissing men were.

Taehyung and Jungkook.

Jungkook had Taehyung pressed back against the wall, one hand stabilizing himself above Taehyung’s head, the other wrapped around the back of his waist to hold him closer to himself. Both of Taehyung’s arms were around Jungkook’s shoulders. They were kissing so passionately that they didn’t even notice Jimin until he shouted out.

“What are you doing?!”

Jungkook spun around and had his hand on his gun within half a second but let go when he saw who had caught them.

Jimin stared between them, trying to understand what he was seeing. Partially because of the shock, and partially because of the alcohol.

“Why are you—? But you—” He broke off, confused. Horrified.

“Jimin,” Taehyung stepped a little away from Jungkook. “This is—”

“What are you doing with him?”

“Jungkook is who I was with during the winter, in Butte.”

“With him?! But he—!” Jimin broke off. Did Taehyung know? Did he know that Jungkook was a criminal? Suddenly Jimin recalled their conversation from the other day. Was this who Taehyung was going to leave with? If…if Taehyung was planning to leave with him, then he must know about his criminal activities. If he spent all winter with him, he must know. There was no way he couldn’t know.

“You lied to me?” Jimin spit out, shoving Taehyung away. “You fucking lied about…about everything?! Why is everyone lying to me? What else aren’t you telling me? Did you know about Yoongi, too?! Is that why—is that why—” He couldn’t finish that sentence.

“Jimin!” Taehyung reached for him, but Jimin pushed his hand away and turned, striding quickly back toward the front of the saloon. He walked right past the door and straight for where he’d left Sunny tied.

Neither Taehyung nor Jungkook followed him. Jimin was too angry to be surprised about that as he climbed up and swung his leg over. It took him a few tries, and he swayed a little in the saddle, but once he had a good grip on the reins, he urged Sunny into a fast trot out of town. He pretended he didn’t see the figures of Taehyung and Jungkook, still behind the saloon, gesturing back and forth angrily.

Perhaps ten or so minutes into his ride, he thought he could hear hoofbeats behind him. Turning as best as he could with his slightly unbalanced body, he looked back. A single rider was coming toward him at a fast pace. It didn’t take him long to realize it was Jungkook.

“Damn him,” he cursed, turning and snapping the reins, pressing in his heels to get Sunny to pick up her pace until soon they were galloping across the land. Sunny had always been quick, and soon enough Jungkook fell behind, but clearly was not going to stop following him.

The ride was far shorter at a gallop, but there was still plenty of time for Jimin to feel his head clear some. He became steadier on Sunny’s back, but no less upset.

No wonder Taehyung hadn’t been surprised. He must have known about Yoongi. Which meant…which meant that it really was true. There was no reason why he would be so calm, so unsurprised, about the possibility of  Yoongi being an outlaw.

Jimin almost didn’t realize it at first when he arrived home and ungracefully jumped down from Sunny’s back. He didn’t realize it until he could hear the hoofbeats of Jungkook’s horse down the lane as he was staring at Chief grazing, unbothered, in the field.

If Chief was there, then—Jimin felt his stomach drop. No. He wasn’t ready to face him.

He wasn’t ready.

 

*

 

 

Notes:

Another cliffhanger...And next chapter we find out what's going to happen between Yoonmin.........Uh oh...

Notes:

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