Chapter Text
"Don't worry about me," Jimin says. "It's going to be fine."
"Really." Even over the phone and five thousand kilometers away, Taehyung sounds somewhat less than convinced. Extremely less than convinced. "You know, I'm already in the States, I'll just have to fly over from NYC to be in California with you! It's no problem, I can talk to my agent—"
"Taehyung, London Fashion Week starts next Friday," Jimin reminds him. "And there's no need, I've got it covered."
Taehyung's deep voice goes a little higher-pitched, which means he's getting serious, rather than teasing with false gravitas. "Jimin-ah, I've been reading up on this surgery, and if you want your knee to fully recover, then you're going to have to stay off your feet for a whole month. At least!"
"I know," Jimin says patiently.
"So you'll need someone to wait on you hand and foot—especially specially foot! Someone who isn't going to flake out on you halfway through and leave you to fend for yourself. Not to mention, where are you even going to stay? You can't be flying back to Seoul right after the surgery—and anyway your apartment building doesn't even have an elevator!"
"I'm not going back to Korea, I'll be staying with a friend in town," Jimin tries to reassure, but Taehyung has gone into Rumpelstiltskin mode, spinning straws of worry into full-blown golden dread.
"—But what will you do when this so-called friend inevitably starts falling for your tender invalid self as he's nursing you back to health, so you can't help but seduce him? And sure the sex is great, but then he starts taking advantage of you and has you change your will to leave him your fortune—"
"When did I get a fortune? Or a will?"
"You don't have a will already?" Taehyung asks, shocked.
"—And anyway that's not going to happen," Jimin says. "Guaranteed."
"How can you guarantee it? You know it doesn't matter how straight this friend claims to be—"
"It's Namjoon, okay?" Jimin says, before Taehyung can get into that.
"—Kim Namjoon?" Taehyung demands. "Our Namjoon-hyung?"
"When I first mentioned needing the surgery on the group chat," Jimin says, "hyung sent me a message within an hour, offering his guest room. His new condo is only an hour away from the San Francisco clinic, and he's got a spare room since his ex-girlfriend moved out. And since he usually works from home, he'll be around to help me if I need it."
"Oh, if it's Namjoon-hyung, that's fine," Taehyung says blithely, all concerns vanished. "He'll properly take care of you. And if he doesn't, I know where he lives."
"See, I told you," Jimin says, "it's fine."
"And he's not going to fall for you, obviously," Taehyung adds.
"Uh-huh."
Taehyung pauses for a thoughtful moment. "...Are you going to be okay? Staying with Namjoon-hyung for a whole month. Just the two of you. Hanging out, getting nursed back to health, eating together. Wishing him good night every evening, seeing his bed-head in the morning..."
As if Jimin hasn't already thought of all of this. In more detail than he really ought to, but it's hard to resist.
"I'll be fine," Jimin says, and tells himself he's not lying to his best friend. Either way, it was too good an offer to pass up. So completely, expectedly generous on Namjoon's part.
It's not like he and Namjoon are that close, not really, not like they once were in college. Namjoon's rarely back in South Korea, and Jimin's not there much himself these days. Of course they have the group chat and follow each other's socials, but they haven't seen each other in person for well over a year now, long before Jimin's injury, before Jimin even auditioned for this last international tour. Before Namjoon had even started dating his ex or moved in with her.
But it's Namjoon, so it's no surprise that he'd be instantly willing to sacrifice his privacy and his guest room for a month, no questions asked, just to help out an old friend.
Jimin had not-exactly joked about it when Namjoon had volunteered. Said that he couldn't possibly take advantage of him, and Namjoon just replied, "But you'd do the same for me," and Jimin couldn't deny it.
Of course if Jimin were inviting Namjoon into his home, to give him a bed and share meals with him and wait on him hand and foot...there would definitely be some ulterior motives on his part.
It's a thought that should make Jimin feel a little guilty. If not guilty enough to refuse, when Namjoon offered.
No one actually remembers who started it, back in Jimin's sophomore year (almost a decade ago now, and how the heck had that happened anyway?) Knowing his friends, it was probably either Taehyung or Seokjin who was watching the Antique Bakery anime and went, "Hey, Jimin, it's you!" The "devil gay," who can attract any man, no matter how heterosexual.
It was just a joke, of course. Jimin couldn't actually pull all straight men. Just the ones who he found attractive enough—hot enough, smart enough, interesting enough—to try to seduce. And okay, once it was pointed out, maybe it became less of a joke and more of a challenge.
It wasn't like he only slept with straight men—Yoongi being the most obvious counterexample. But occasionally Jimin had a point to make, about the fluidity of sexuality, about how beer broadened the definition of attraction, about just how fine his ass really was. It made a nice break from the stresses of dance practices and showcases. And sex always was one of Jimin's favorite forms of aerobic exercise.
But jokes aside, it only really happened four or five times. Six or seven at most. Well, eight if you counted the blow job from the astronomy student at midnight outside the observatory. Then there was the vampire at the Halloween costume party...but that guy hadn't even mentioned his purported orientation until after the fact. So less than a dozen, probably.
Anyway, Jimin's long since outgrown that particular hobby. By graduation he was wanting more than middling one-night stands with inexperienced guys who could barely look at him the next morning. Or, maybe worse, guys who had some kind of erotic epiphany and then expected Jimin to lead them further into the promised land of homosexual pleasure. Most of the men he hooks up with now are already comfortably queer when he meets them.
Not that there's so many these days. Jimin doesn't get out as much as he used to. The closer he gets to thirty, the more he values a good night's sleep over a night on the town. Besides, touring internationally as a dancer with some of the top acts in the world is his dream job, but he's rarely in one place long enough to get to know anyone outside of work.
His record still stands, though. While he has decent success with gay and bi guys, he's fielded his share of rejections. But every straight man Jimin has ever come on to said yes.
Save one.
Taehyung isn't there when Jimin wakes up from the surgery.
This isn't a surprise, given that Taehyung's scheduled to walk a runway in London tomorrow. Also because Jimin didn't ask for him to be there. Or anyone else. It had taken hours to persuade his parents, not to mention Seokjin and Hoseok, that it was a routine operation, hardly more than an outpatient procedure, not worth the trouble for them to fly halfway around the world. Namjoon, living so much closer, had been even harder to convince, but Jimin had gotten away with it with a two-pronged attack of the inconvenience to the hospital and the inconvenience of the distance when Namjoon still didn't have a license. A little below the belt, but Jimin had been determined.
Somehow, though, when Jimin opens his eyes, while Taehyung isn't there, Taehyung's boyfriend is, sitting by the hospital bed and idly swaying back and forth as he pokes at a large tablet in his hands. Jimin blinks at him dazedly a few times. Isn't he supposed to be in Australia? Jimin's not in Australia now, is he? The poster on the opposite wall is in English, but still, that doesn't sound right. Wetting his chapped lips, Jimin croaks out, "Jungkook?"
"Jimin-ssi? Cool, you're awake already!" Jungkook grins at him and holds up the tablet. Taehyung's face on the screen lights up in a huge boxy grin. "Jimin-ah! How are you feeling?"
"Great," Jimin says, because it's too hard to put tired, confused, dry-mouthed, and anxious into words, especially when his head feels so fuzzy and floaty. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm not here, I'm in London," Taehyung says.
"...Then what's Jungkook doing here?" Jimin clarifies.
Jungkook looks smug. "'Cuz the nurse said only one of us was allowed in the room until you woke up, and I beat Yoongi-hyung at rock-paper-scissors."
"Yoongi-hyung?" It feels like each of his arms weigh at least 50 kilos, but Jimin manages to drag one up enough to rub his forehead, squinting at Jungkook. "But LA's so far, I told him not to come. And what about the kangaroos?"
"I finished the wildlife shoot yesterday morning," Jungkook says, "landed in SFO four hours ago—sorry I wasn't here yet when you went under."
"I didn't ask any of you to be here," Jimin mumbles. Though there's a fuzzy feeling blooming in his heart that's from more than the drugs.
A nurse comes to check on him, and Jimin wakes up enough to make a quick call to his parents and talk briefly with Taehyung and Jungkook about what he doesn't remember about the surgery, which is nearly all of it. Jimin keeps his eyes on Jungkook's face or Taehyung on the screen, blurry without his glasses, and doesn't once glance down at his knee stretched out on the bed.
He can't feel anything, not even the bandages wrapped around it. But that's normal, isn't it, until the anesthetic wears off?
The surgeon soon arrives, and Jimin's glad, then, that it's Jungkook, and not Taehyung in person. Or Namjoon or Yoongi or any of his hyungs. Because when Jimin asks him to go, Jungkook doesn't know how to refuse, even with Taehyung whining at him on the tablet.
"Come on, Tae, it's gotta be, what, 3 in the morning there?" Jimin says.
"It's not even 2!" Taehyung protests. "...By three whole minutes!"
"Go to bed," Jimin tells him. "I'll call you back. I love you."
"Fine," Taehyung grumbles, "Love you too," and the screen goes dark. Jungkook lowers the tablet and politely ducks out of the room, mumbling his own well-wishes.
Once he's gone, Jimin takes a deep breath, sits himself up in the hospital bed and matches the doctor's polite smile.
Jimin's no actor, not like Seokjin-hyung; but he knows how to stop himself from trembling when he's waiting in the wings for his turn at an audition. He knows how to smile genuinely, with confidence—that's how to convince a director you can dance a part, not just by knowing the steps, but by knowing that you know them.
He hasn't been able to dance for two months, but it feels like he's been auditioning for all that time. Ever since he stood up at the end of a four-hour flight and fell when the knee that had been twinging for weeks finally buckled. Through the appointments and tests and scans, with half a dozen doctors and surgeons on two continents, with the dance troupe, with his family, with his friends, Jimin's always kept smiling.
It's not an uncommon injury for dancers. He's not even thirty, young enough to heal quickly. Cartilage grafting is cutting-edge; the procedure shows a lot of promise, a high rate of success. All the doctors' words that Jimin's repeated to everyone he knows, enough times to sound like he believes them.
"There's reason to be optimistic," the surgeon had told him before the surgery, alone in the exam room with just the two of them. "We'll know more after we've been in there and can better determine the full extent of the damage."
Jimin's done his best with what he has; now he finds out if he's still in the running. Whether he has a chance of ever attending a real audition again.
If he's going to cry, he can't have anyone here. No one needs to see him falling apart. He'll tell his friends later, when he's more together, and he can comfort their own tears on his behalf.
"So, Doctor, how'd it go?"
Jimin is released by lunchtime the next day. He'd planned to just take a rideshare over to Namjoon's place. But when Jungkook pushes his wheelchair out the clinic's doors, Yoongi is waiting on the curb besides his SUV. Jimin blushes under his regard. "You didn't have to," he says.
"You didn't have to ask," Yoongi counters, and then, because it's Yoongi, quietly adds, "But you should've."
"Told you!" Taehyung's voice pipes up from the phone stuck in Jungkook's front shirt pocket.
"Hi, Taehyung," Yoongi says, waving at the camera with one hand as he and Jungkook help Jimin from the wheelchair into the front seat of Yoongi's Hyundai. With the seat pushed all the way back, there's enough room for his leg to stay properly extended in the knee brace.
"Hi, hyung! Now, Kookie, give me to Jimin so I can say bye."
"You know, Jungkook's not your personal tripod," Jimin reminds Taehyung as he takes the phone. He doesn't say He is your boyfriend, because Yoongi is here. Even though Taehyung and Jungkook have been together for over a year now, they haven't told the rest of their friends. Taehyung claims it's because he wants to wait until they're all together in person for the big announcement, make a proper spectacle of it.
Jimin privately thinks it's more because they're still scared about jinxing it. It had taken so long for them to figure it out, after all. And it is a big change in their friends group dynamic. Seokjin and Hoseok have been together for so many years now, it's hard to remember when they weren't. Jimin is certain everyone will be nothing but happy that Taehyung and Jungkook have finally worked things out, but he gets why they have cold feet.
Though really, Jimin's about 90 percent sure all of the hyungs know already. Case in point: Yoongi doesn't bat an eye at Jungkook serving as Taehyung's digital beast of burden.
Taehyung's got an evening soiree or whatever events supermodels go to at fashion weeks, so he babbles all his endearments in a hurry, while Jimin nods and promises to keep him updated. And tries not to stress about Yoongi and Jungkook behind him figuring out how to fold up the wheelchair to fit in the SUV, along with the suitcases Jimin's brought for his stay and all of Yoongi and Jungkook's stuff. Jimin should be helping, but he doesn't know much more about the wheelchair than they do.
It would've taken Yoongi hours to drive up to San Francisco from LA, and he'd had to get a hotel, too. Jungkook's between photography gigs, but Yoongi's one of the most in-demand producers in the industry. He rarely has weekends off, much less days to play taxi driver. Once they've said their farewells to Taehyung and Jungkook climbs into the back as Yoongi gets into the driver's seat, it's all Jimin can do to say, as cheerfully and unbothered as he can manage, "Thanks for this, hyung. And you too, Jungkook. Really."
"It's no problem. Really," Yoongi returns, a little archly. But then he must decide that an invalid's too easy a target because he tries to let Jimin off the hook, "There's a few local producers and talent in the area who I've meant to drop in on; it was a good excuse to get up here. And anyway I've been needing some downtime."
"Yeah," Jungkook says from the back seat, "and it's a great time of year to visit California, I've been wanting to come in autumn for years! We're getting nice weather, too, the lighting in Yosemite should be perfect."
"And Seokjin and Hoseok are already talking about coming up when they're back in the U.S. next month," Yoongi says. "So really we all owe you, giving us the excuse to get together."
"Yes, that was my secret master plan," Jimin says. "Sacrifice the cartilage in my knee to finally make our next reunion happen."
"Generous of you," Yoongi says wryly, but the sidelong smirk he offers settles Jimin. Yoongi knows him almost as well as Taehyung; better, even, in some respects. And Yoongi and Jimin are more alike than Jimin and Taehyung are; while Taehyung takes endless satisfaction in receiving love, Yoongi, like Jimin, would rather be taking care than getting taken care of.
Yoongi hadn't asked for anyone to come when he'd had his shoulder surgery a few years ago. Jimin had still called him the moment Yoongi had woken up, and honestly he'd been touched that Yoongi had been okay with that. Maybe Yoongi is touched now, that Jimin got in his car, that Jimin was willing to accept this much from him.
Yoongi could ask for more. He's been through this himself; he could ask Jimin just what the doctor told him, the prognosis so far. But Yoongi does know him, and Yoongi doesn't ask.
They drive for a bit in quiet, save for the rap music whispering through the speakers, Yoongi frowning at the traffic, Jimin leaning against the window, watching the streets go by. He marvels, as he always does, how every city everywhere looks the same and yet completely different. It's been a while since he's been in San Francisco. The colorful townhouses are like a festive bouquet, the sloped streets narrower than the typical American boulevards.
In the backseat, Jungkook starts to snore, loud enough that Jimin starts out of his own doze, blinks away the haze of the painkillers. He turns, carefully with his leg, to look back at Jungkook with his head flopped to the side, open-mouthed.
"Jet-lag," Yoongi explains, fond like he always gets when talking about their youngest. "He couldn't sleep at all last night, kept me up. I should've gotten a separate hotel room after all." Jimin opens his mouth, but before he can say anything Yoongi lifts a hand from the steering wheel to hold his palm toward him in a stop gesture. "Don't say it. We wouldn't be here if we didn't want to be."
So Jimin shuts his mouth. Yoongi checks the GPS on his phone clipped to the dashboard, takes the next exit. Once they're on the highway, he says, lightly, "So, Namjoon. Volunteered?"
"He did," Jimin confirmed. And then, as he hadn't said to Taehyung, admits, "I don't know why."
Namjoon had given him reasons. That it's serendipitous that he lives so close to the surgical center Jimin had been recommended. That his condo is big enough for two. That he's going to be around anyways. "Really, you'll be helping me, giving me a reason to stay put and buckle down on my book!"
They'd been talking on the phone, no video because overseas hotels always have lousy wi-fi, yet Jimin had been able to hear the dimples in Namjoon's smile as he said it. Maybe that mental picture was why he'd said yes. And then it was too late to take it back, not when Namjoon had immediately started cleaning out the guest bedroom, started asking if Jimin still preferred his ramen extra spicy and what American snacks should he stock up on.
"Well," Yoongi says, "Namjoon couldn't make our last couple of get-togethers—it's been, what, over a year now, since it's been all seven of us?"
"A year and a half—it'll be two years in February," Jimin says. "The last time was Switzerland."
"The chalet, right. When you and Jungkook were hooking up." Yoongi glances in the rear-view mirror. Jungkook in the rear seat is still snoring, a little more quietly, puppy-like snuffles. Yoongi could ask Jimin about that, too, but doesn't. Just continues, "But yeah, it's been a while. And then Namjoon had that thing with his girlfriend"—ex-girlfriend, now, though Jimin stops himself from correcting Yoongi aloud—"and couldn't make it to Korea for Chuseok last year. And then you both were busy this spring when the rest of us were in New York. So maybe he's just missing us."
"We are very missable," Jimin agrees. "I miss you all the time, hyung," and then, before Yoongi can get too flustered, specifies, "Like, whenever I wear shoes with over a centimeter of sole, I just overlook you completely."
"You know that centimeter you measured over me that one time was only because you'd been stretching right before and your spine was all lengthened."
"I don't think that's how that works," Jimin says. Though he definitely had been hoping it would.
"Anyway," Yoongi says, "how's it going to go, you being with Namjoon for a month?"
"I'm sure it will be fine. —As long as we order take-out. Unless Namjoon's secretly become a gourmet chef."
"Not that I know of," Yoongi says. "And not what I meant. What are you going to do?"
Taehyung has asked him already. But Yoongi is harder for Jimin to dismiss. He looks out the window at the buildings passing by, glass twinkling in the midday sun. "Relax. Do my PT. Recover," he says. "Try to stay out of Namjoon's way."
Yoongi doesn't have to say anything aloud for his skepticism to be audible. Jimin essays a smile at his faint reflection in the window. "Seriously, hyung. If anything was going to happen, it would've happened already years ago. He's straight, we're friends. That's all. And Namjoon-hyung is a good friend to have; look at all he's doing for me."
"Uh-huh," Yoongi says, and keeps driving.