Work Text:
Loving Jimin had always been easy.
Ever since Taehyung met him at freshman orientation, he had known. The blond boy with the beautiful laugh that made his brown eyes disappear behind chubby cheeks, and with an intelligence that made Taehyung feel dizzy just being around him.
So of course Taehyung had been shocked when Jimin seemed so genuinely interested in his charcoal drawings that they ended up talking for hours while their seniors completed the activities on their own. And then, when Jimin invited him to have lunch and they talked even more, Jimin telling him about his passion for dance and music, and Taehyung talking about all the artists who inspired him and his favorite works. He was even more shocked when they kept talking every time they ran into each other on campus, and when Jimin asked for his number and invited him to a random party one weekend.
And even though Taehyung had spent hours getting ready, trying to look as attractive as possible even though it was just some stupid party at a baseball guy’s house, he never imagined he would have Jimin’s arms resting on his shoulders, fingers easily tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck while they danced pressed close together. And maybe Taehyung had been a really good person in a past life, because Jimin’s lips were kissing his so softly in the middle of the dance floor, strobe lights flashing around them, some random pop song playing in the background of that unique moment.
And Taehyung didn’t have a single drop of alcohol in his system, but he almost could have sworn it was some kind of hallucination or dream. Because Jimin was so beautiful. Magical. Wearing loose jeans and a tight T-shirt, dark eyeshadow around his eyes, kissing him like that was the one thing he had wanted since the first time he’d looked at Taehyung.
And then Jimin pulled away, smiled, and took his hand — and Taehyung knew he was ruined forever.
The weeks that followed were the best of his life. They had coffee together sitting side by side, Taehyung’s arm draped over the back of Jimin’s chair while Jimin’s hand rested softly on his thigh. They walked around campus holding hands, greeting classmates and professors, proudly introducing each other.
And there were the nights they spent together. Curled up on the couch in the apartment Taehyung shared with his cousins Namjoon and Seokjin while the older two were still in class. Sometimes just cuddling while pretending to watch some dumb show on TV, and other times with heated kisses and hands inside each other’s pants, trying to pull as much pleasure as possible from one another. Or the nights when Jimin’s roommate went back to his parents’ house and they could spend the whole night together, Jimin moaning Taehyung’s name against his lips while they chased their highs together.
It wasn’t always perfect — they argued sometimes — but it was close. The end of the semester and the storm of assignments and exams caused a few small fights. But a needy, lovesick Taehyung never hesitated to swallow his pride and beg for forgiveness (even when it wasn’t really his fault). And Jimin always accepted his apologies (even when technically Jimin was the one to blame).
And when days turned into months and suddenly autumn was back again, making the leaves fall from the trees, the calendar next to Taehyung’s fridge made it clear that they were getting close to their one-year anniversary. He dedicated himself to planning the perfect day. Asked friends for tips, saved lunch money for weeks, and when October 14th finally arrived, he was as excited as a kid on Christmas morning.
Jimin had rehearsal for the winter recital that morning, and after lunch with his classmates he went home to get ready. At three in the afternoon Taehyung picked him up for their first stop: the amusement park. They walked around holding hands, ate cotton candy, and Jimin beat him at every single game they played. They took photos in the photo booths, Jimin sitting on his lap, squeezing his cheeks and kissing the tip of his nose. They each kept a strip, Taehyung putting his inside his wallet, aware that now he would carry the love of his life in his pocket at all times.
They ended the park visit on the Ferris wheel, Taehyung watching the colorful lights reflected in Jimin’s eyes, thinking about how lucky he was to be there with someone so perfect.
After that, Taehyung drove them to a bar he had found online with great reviews. The place was amazing, young, and played Jimin’s favorite music. They sat at a table close enough to the stage to watch the show — a local artist singing and playing violin with pop songs that stuck in your head — but far enough that Taehyung could steal a few kisses during the show.
Jimin smiled openly, tongue playing with the straw of his second sweet vodka drink. Taehyung wrinkled his nose at the smell while sipping his Coke Zero (he was driving, the responsible boyfriend tonight). But Jimin drank his like a man dying of thirst and ordered another. They enjoyed the show for the next hour, pressed together on the bar couch. Jimin swayed the whole time, clapped at every song, and at the end held Taehyung’s face and kissed him hard, whispering I love you with sugary lips.
Their last stop was dinner at a new Korean barbecue place in town (a reservation Taehyung only got after a lot of persistence and emotional manipulation). They sat across from each other at a big table, Taehyung focused on grilling the meat, Jimin starving and already clinging to a bottle of soju. When the second bottle arrived before the pork was even ready, Taehyung thought about telling him to slow down, but Jimin’s flushed cheeks and easy laughter stopped him.
They laughed all night. Jimin laughed at everything Taehyung said, switched topics randomly, or started humming songs. And Taehyung had never been happier. He never thought he would be there, celebrating one year with the man he loved.
But nothing that year prepared him for what happened when they got back to Jimin’s house.
The night was calm. Jimin lived in a quiet residential area, and Saturdays were silent. The only sound was Taehyung’s car in the garage. Jimin had fallen asleep somewhere between a Dua Lipa song and the last traffic light, but woke up suddenly when the engine stopped.
Taehyung helped him out while Jimin laughed and tried to escape his hands, stumbling on the sidewalk. He flirted at the door, pulling Taehyung by the collar and kissing him while Taehyung tried to unlock it.
Their eager hands made quick work of the winter clothes, even as Taehyung struggled to keep their bodies pressed together. He pressed a light kiss to Jimin’s jaw, almost drunk on the taste of soju on his boyfriend’s lips, when he suddenly felt Jimin’s hands on his chest, pushing him away.
He didn’t even have time to ask what was wrong. Jimin was already stumbling out of his arms, rushing toward the bedroom door. Taehyung followed him, startled and confused, until he reached the room and saw the bathroom light on.
He stepped inside to find Jimin sitting on the floor with his head inside the toilet bowl. Taehyung let out a fond sigh. Considering how much Jimin had drunk, this was basically inevitable.
He knelt beside him, even knowing Jimin would probably tell him to leave the bathroom soon. It wasn’t really gross. This was the love of his life, and he clearly wasn’t having his best moment, but Taehyung still loved him endlessly. And he wouldn’t trade that for anything. Sitting there beside Jimin, gently rubbing his back just enough so he’d know Taehyung was there — that was priceless. Because that was real life.
Jimin stopped throwing up after a few seconds and accepted the damp cloth Taehyung offered to wipe his mouth while he flushed the toilet. His voice was weak when he spoke.
“Tae… something’s wrong. Why am I throwing up?”
Taehyung took the cloth back, rinsed it, and handed it to him again. Jimin wiped his face slowly, cleaning the sweat from his skin. He still looked a little dazed, eyes fixed on the wall behind the toilet, lips pouting slightly.
It seemed impossible for someone to look so pretty even after throwing up.
“Because you drank too much, baby,” Taehyung said.
“But I never throw up when I drink.”
Taehyung thought about it for a moment. And it was true. Jimin was a beast when it came to alcohol. No matter what they were drinking, whenever they went out with friends or had movie nights, Jimin was always the one who drank the most and stayed perfect while everyone else fell apart. Taehyung had learned early on that he should never try to compete with Jimin.
“Maybe something you ate at the restaurant didn’t sit well.”
Jimin frowned. “No, I swear. I never throw up. Something’s wrong.”
“Jimin, love, you just drank too much.”
Taehyung moved closer, thinking the worst part had probably passed, and let his hand slide to Jimin’s back, trying to offer a reassuring touch.
“No, it’s not that. There’s something else, I know there is… Oh. My. God. Taehyung!”
Jimin stared at him, eyes wide, mouth forming a perfect O. Taehyung froze, his hand still resting on Jimin’s lower back.
“I… I’M PREGNANT.”
“Jimin, baby, you can’t be pregnant…”
“Of course I can, Taehyung. We didn’t use a condom and— and— God, I’m so stupid.” He dropped his head into his hands, fat tears sliding down his cheeks. “I haven’t even finished college yet. What are we going to do?”
“Babe…” Taehyung went back to rubbing the small of Jimin’s back, trying his best to keep his touch calm and reassuring while also trying not to burst out laughing. “You literally can’t get pregnant.”
All of a sudden, Jimin lifted his head from his hands, glaring at Taehyung.
“So you don’t want this baby?”
Taehyung opened his mouth, then closed it again. He had no idea what to do. He had never imagined he would have to deal with something like this in his life.
He had been fifteen when he realized he wasn’t like most of his friends who spent recess chasing girls. It had been hard to understand at first, but when he finally accepted who he was, it felt like breaking free from chains. He was gay. He liked men. And because of that, he dated men. So normally, he never had to worry about ending up sitting on a bathroom floor, holding his girlfriend’s hair while she cried between bouts of vomiting and claimed she was pregnant.
And even being gay, sure, maybe he could end up in a situation like that if he dated someone who wasn’t cis. But the point was — Jimin was cis. He had sucked his dick enough times to know that. So unless they were living in some dystopian universe with subgenders like in omegaverse, Jimin’s statement was, at best, absurd.
But still, he loved his boyfriend more than anything.
So he said, with complete sincerity:
“Jimin, of course I want this baby!”
He deserved an Oscar — or at least a Golden Globe — for not even smiling when he said it. And he was rewarded with the sweetest, softest look from Jimin. His eyes were still wet with tears, his mouth twisting into a smile that almost looked like a grimace.
“Kids are really expensive and we still have student loans,” Jimin kept rambling, knuckles white as he gripped the porcelain of the toilet. “And we don’t even live together yet.”
“It’s way too early for you to worry about that, baby.”
Taehyung figured the best thing was to just go along with it. There was no point arguing now. Jimin was drunk, and tomorrow he’d wake up hungover and laugh about this. And Taehyung would get to brag about what a great boyfriend he was, even in extreme situations like this.
But suddenly, as if someone had opened a faucet under Jimin’s eyes, he started crying hard again, hugging himself. Taehyung moved a little closer, his heart aching at the sight of him.
“What is it, love?”
“My room is too small. There won’t be space for a crib.”
And then he cried even more, tears soaking into the fabric of his T-shirt.
Maybe Taehyung should try to gently bring him back to reality. And that could start with a shower.
“Okay, let’s do this,” Taehyung said, sliding his hand from Jimin’s lower back up to his shoulders. “How about a shower?”
Jimin shook his head, but the sobbing had stopped and he let Taehyung pull off his shoes and socks. With that out of the way, Taehyung knelt in front of him and pulled his T-shirt over his head. It was easier than expected, especially since Jimin lifted his arms on his own.
Then Taehyung hooked his hands under Jimin’s arms and helped him stand. They stumbled together to the shower, where Taehyung managed to remove Jimin’s pants and boxers. And since helping Jimin shower without taking one himself was impossible, he undressed too.
He turned on the water — as cold as acceptable — and stepped under the stream, pulling Jimin with him. He rested Jimin’s head against his chest while the water ran over their bodies. He grabbed the loofah and started washing him. Jimin, his flushed cheek pressed against Taehyung’s collarbone, looked almost asleep.
“Do you think the baby will look more like you or me?” Jimin asked softly.
In a weird, probably problematic way, Taehyung was starting to enjoy this. The exhaustion of the day finally settling into his body, the warmth of Jimin under the water. For a moment, he let himself imagine this drunken fantasy. Their baby. If it took after Jimin, it would be the cutest child in the world. Probably a little rebellious too, but Taehyung would love that. Creative, for sure. And if he could choose one thing for their child to inherit from him, he hoped it would be his dedication to making the people he loved smile.
“Oh, I hope it looks more like me.”
Jimin slapped his arm lightly and grumbled, which was enough to make Taehyung’s heart swell.
“Then he’s gonna snore.”
“Hey,” Taehyung protested, but kept washing Jimin, lingering over the length of his spine, where the moon phase tattoo rested — the one Taehyung adored so much.
“I hope he has your square smile. I like it.”
Jimin cuddled closer, his head tucked into the curve of Taehyung’s neck. He made a sound that almost resembled a purr, and for a second Taehyung almost believed they really were in some ridiculous ABO universe.
Taehyung turned Jimin around gently, pressing his back against his chest and washing his torso. It felt so good. So familiar. They had showered together so many times. Most of them much hotter than this, with kisses and hands everywhere (though Jimin never wanted actual sex in the shower, claiming a very reasonable fear of slipping and needing to be rescued by emergency services), but this time felt different. Domestic. Just skin against skin. Not sexual, just natural.
He could do this for the rest of his life. Preferably with Jimin a little more sober next time.
He washed Jimin’s stomach, and suddenly Jimin lifted his hands, intertwining their fingers and holding them just below his abdomen.
“How are you feeling?” Taehyung asked, cheek pressed to Jimin’s.
Jimin’s eyes were closed, looking almost peaceful.
“Pregnant.”
“Okay.” Taehyung kissed his cheek and turned off the water. “Let’s brush our teeth and lie down for a bit, okay?”
“You’re going to take care of us?”
Jimin sounded so small and sweet that Taehyung had to stop himself from crushing him in his arms. He would do anything for Jimin — even fuck him until he actually managed to get him pregnant.
“Forever,” Taehyung promised.
That seemed to calm Jimin, who sighed and smiled.
“Let’s get some rest. If tomorrow you still feel pregnant, we’ll figure it out.”
And when they lay down together a few minutes later, Jimin curled against Taehyung’s chest, his damp hair tickling his neck, Taehyung slid his hand to Jimin’s stomach, gently stroking the soft skin there. He smiled alone in the dark, imagining how insane it would be if this were real — but knowing that if it were, he’d probably be even happier than he already was.
Because loving Jimin had always been easy. And anything that came from that love would be too.