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The iridescent glow of the hot tub calls towards Jimin like a moth to a flame.
He can see his breath as it rises through the hazy afterglow of the lodge, futile in an attempt to warm the lingering cold that suffocates his body. The numbing twinge of frost bites at his skin with intense fervor, icy remnants of the day spent skiing through the Jeongsan alpines.
His entire body prickles with the less than wonderful sensation of frostnip — at least, the parts that hadn’t already gone numb do. His teeth chatter violently with an unconscious motion, the tips of his fingers tinted by a faint hush of violet.
But all of the discomfort fades in the wake of the jacuzzi, the soft aroma of chlorine and scented candles leaving a lingering scent in the air. Jimin breathes it in for a mere moment before wasting absolutely no time to step into the tub, body soaking deep into the heated bath.
He releases a groan of pure bliss once he's fully submerged, feeling the water hug every inch of his skin, comforting each and every minor crevice. It's a smoothing comfort, the ghost of a feeble embrace he has longed for in his loneliness.
It's late – god knows what time, his only companion being the crescent moon that hangs high in the large bay window. Its celestial illuminance streams through the aperture, draping Jimin in a milky glow. It feels dreamlike, almost.
He presses himself up the edge of the tub, releasing an exasperated and lethargic breath. There's a soothing moment of rapture, a rarity in the frantic series of events that seems to make up his life. The past few months haven’t been easy on him, to say the least, and he thinks it's nice to have a moment of unwavering tranquility; somber and secluded.
He adjusts himself in his position, feeling the pressure of the pool jet blow against his thigh. It startles him, breath sitting heavy in his throat. He exhales for a moment, but not before adjusting himself once more; feeling the sensation settle heavy on his ass.
The euphoric sensation engulfs his body for a fleeting moment, unconsciously releasing an exuberant gasp. It overwhelms it with a touch so reminiscent of longing memories, still cumbersome in the depths of his mind. It's enough to send his fried and tired brain into overdrive, a single realization dawning on him with a sour taste.
Hes so fucking lonely .
It's something he's long since known, ever since that day three months ago. It's a truth he's tried to turn away from, to tuck in the back of his mind and hope that the barracks are strong enough to contain the everbuilding emotion.
But in this moment, the floodgates break – releasing the desperate culmination of remorse and desire rushing through his chest with utmost speed. He feels his lip quiver unconsciously at the notion, and Jimin doesn’t try to fight the tears that begin to sting at the cusps of his waterline.
He doesn’t know how long he sits there, drowning in his own misery like it's the only comfort he's ever known. Self pity seems to be the only thing that comes easy to Jimin these days. It's a natural part of him, he thinks, the way his mind sees easily adjusts to find the glass half empty in each and every thing.
He thinks that mindset has only been reinforced in past months, all rooted in a singular and common cause.
But even just thinking of such thoughts of him is enough for Jimin's fists to unconsciously clench and teeth to grit in a subtle snarl. No, he can’t think such things right now. Not on the trip he was supposed to use to get his mind away. Not in the alluded state of comfort he has feebly built in this mere moment.
He exhales once more, sinking back down into the heated bath with a soothing groan. The ambiance is perfect – the slight sound of water sloshing in tune with his movements, the air conditioner humming in one of the back corners, the-
Jimin stops, hearing an unfamiliar sound break his thoughts.
It's faint at first – the rhythmic motion of sandals against the stony flooring, the squish of water absorbing the souls of the foam shoes. Jimin stills as he hears the sound move continually closer, not comprehending the presence behind him until the footsteps subdue.
There is a lingering moment of silence, tension so thick you could slice through it. Jimins heart swells rapidly in his chest, beating in tune with the sound of the stranger's periodic breathing. He doesn’t dare turn his head, body frozen in place.
More silence. Then-
“Jimin?”
It isn’t the mention of his name that causes his heart to drop in his chest, misery and dread creeping into each and every part of his body, but rather the voice that addresses him; a honeyed baritone, husky and smooth even under such circumstances, eerie familiarity crawling into each syllable.
It's a voice he has heard before, many times before. A voice that has made his heart flutter at the very notion, and the same one that simultaneously ripped it into two.
He breathes a deep and shaky inhale, the weight settling on his shoulders so heavy it feels as if he is holding up the very sky itself. His attempts to compose himself are futile, like a soldier taking the front lines on his first day of training.
He does not want to do this, not right now.
“Taehyung?”
Everything about Jimin’s demeanor is pathetic – from the meager crack in his voice to the fact that he is sitting half naked in a hot tub because he underestimated the severity of Korean winters. It is a scene that he would not like anyone to see, especially not the man standing right before him.
Taehyung looks as beautiful as ever, and Jimin absolutely hates it.
From the soft, dark curls falling over his sculpted features, to the silhouette of his broad shoulders leading down the curve of his torso. From the small beauty marks sprinkled across his skin, to the luminescence in his wide eyes as they meet Jimin's own.
Fucking perfect.
Taehyung runs a hand through his locks, shifting ever so slightly on his feet; a nervous cue that only Jimin could recognize.
“Guilty as charged.”
The chuckle following his words is hollow.
There is an endless multitude of palpable questions swarming Jimin's mind – how after three months of distancing the man like the plague, he ends up crossing paths with Kim Taehyung at the hot tub of a random ski resort lining the outskirts of Seoul. But hey, Jimin figures, the universe works in funny ways.
And the universe really seems to enjoy picking on him.
“What the hell are you doing here.”
He doesn’t mean to come off as harsh as he sounds, instantly regretting it when he sees the slight flinch in Taehyung's features. Jimin ignores it, scoffing, “Never took you as a skier.”
Taehyung stares back, addams apple bobbing in his throat. The man lifts his shoulders into a nonchalant shrug, shaking his head ever so slightly, “Things change, people change.”
Jimin glares back, not sharing the clear sentiment in his tone. “Hm,” he scoffs, turning his head away. He’s made it quite clearly obvious that he isn’t a fan of this interaction, but unfortunately, Taehyung never really knew when to take a hint.
His heart stops the moment he hears the slosh of water, a half-naked body filling his periphery. It's in completely instinctive motion when Jimin’s head snaps to the side, a penetrable rage of fury and disbelief culminating into his tone.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Taehyung stares back at him with smooth brows and flat-lined lips. His gaze is completely unwavering, gaslighting Jimin's impenetrable flames. He sinks into the water with unbothered ease, shrugging as he adjusts himself up against one of the jets.
“Last I checked, this was communal property.”
The absolute nerve.
Jimin is sickened at the utter audacity – to stalk inside the rare state of comfort he has built in his mind and blow it to pieces with a single touch. For Taehyung to make it his own, knowing he was partially the cause for why Jimin had boarded it to begin with.
To try and navigate his way through the fractured glass lining the path into Jimin's heart, when he was the one who broke it in the first place.
Taehyung exhales a heavy breath, shattering Jimin's thoughts like a bull rushing a china shop. He looks up, a meager attempt to meet Jimin's gaze, “Look-”
“I don’t want to talk to you, okay?” Jimin snaps, and this time, he isn’t regretful about the clear vitality that slips into his tone. He rubs a hand at his temple, trying to ease the building ache in the back of his head.
“God,” he murmurs, moreso to himself than the man beside him, “are you a fucking idiot? Just leave me alone.”
The insult seems to finally shut Taehyung up, the man's mouth closing with a disheartened demeanor. Jimin watches as the man retreats to the edge of the tub, making the distance between them as far as possible.
A mind-numbing silence is quick to submerge the room, and it's painful enough that for a sparsely fleeting moment, Jimin almost misses Taehyung’s stupid voice.
He spares a glance at the other man, sombering at the expression lining his face. Taehyung looks pathetic – defeated; yet, for some reason, Jimin doesn’t feel victorious. It's like a losing battle on either side, bleeding out on the battlefield with pungent regret.
He chose to fight fire with fire, and now they are both getting burnt.
“I’m sorry.”
Jimin and Taehyung's voices overlap with eerie synchronization, like a practiced line exchanged between actors. They both fall victim to each other's gaze as their eyes meet, and if judging purely by the look in Taehyung's corneas – he knows the man to be telling the truth.
Taehyung breathes a heavy exhale, falling back onto the rim of the tub. Jimin watches as his gaze rises to the large aperture laid out before them, bathing the latters features in the moon's milky iridescence.
“I’m sorry,” the man repeats – softer, and more somber. “About everything.”
Jimin stiffens at his words.
It was the very phrase he had yearned to hear from Taehyung's voice ever since that ill-fated day. It was the very phrase he dreamed of hearing during his many sleepless nights. But it feels like Taehyung is trying to heal his gunshot wound with a cellulose band-aid, to stop the bleeding with a single word.
“And I know that it's not enough to just say that,” Taehyung continues, a tremor creeping into his voice.
“I don’t know what I was thinking at the time, probably something along the lines of douchey bogus that my mind deemed important. I was overwhelmed and hurt and I took it out on you,” he looks up to meet Jimin's gaze, “It was the worst decision I made in my entire life.”
Jimin stares back, breath hitching in his throat.
“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, Park Jimin,” Taehyung says – pleads . “I looked forward to each morning just because I knew I would be waking up besides you. I would tell stupid jokes and make a fool of myself just because of the way your eyes would crinkle each time you laughed.”
“Hell,” Taehyung says, lips pulling into a wistful smile, “I watched The Notebook 36 times, just because it was your favorite movie.”
Jimin bites his lip, a feeble attempt to stifle the tears stinging at the cusps of his waterline.
“And I don’t expect you to forgive me,” Taehyung shakes his head. “I don’t even forgive myself, I don't think I ever will. Cause I broke your heart, which is a crime that probably deserves the worst criminal sentence possible.”
He looks back to Jimin, voice feeble and forlorn. “I was stupid. I was really fucking stupid.”
Taehyung's eyes burn into Jimin. They’re soft, and desperate ; fledgling tears growing at the inner corneas. The chocolate pool of his irises call towards Jimin with its refracted haze, and he feels himself drawing closer, drowning inside them.
Jimin thinks he wouldn’t mind if he did.
He has no control over himself as he feels his body unconsciously move towards Taehyung like he's attracted by magnetic force. He wraps his arms around the man, gaze falling from the slope of the man's nose down to the line of his perfect lips; calling towards him like a luscious and lingering fruit.
Jimin feels a smile pull at his own lips, shaking his head as he leans closer. “You are a fucking idiot, Kim Taehyung.”
He leans in with resounding force, like Taehyung's embrace is the only thing that ever mattered. They fall into each other with ease, not skipping even a single beat from where they had left off.
It's almost uncanny how well they slip back into old routine, bodies interlocking like they were never meant to be separated, like Jimin and Taehyung were born to be one. It feels like a relapse in some odd way – craving a substance with such willing and undeniable ferocity.
But if Taehyung is a drug, Jimin thinks he wouldn’t mind getting addicted.
The kiss is sweet and chaste, their lips meeting with an electric spark. Jimin pulls himself closer, bodies pressing up against each other upon the rounded barriers of the tub.
Taehyung is soft, just like Jimin remembers. From his body to his movements, each a collective motion of pure bliss and beauty, a resounding comfort that wraps up Jimin into a heated buzz of ecstasy.
He doesn’t know how long they go on for before they finally pull apart, their weighted and heaving breaths sign enough, chests rising at the heated moment. They stare into each other's eyes, and Jimin finds himself encapsulated in a lingering silence once again.
But this time, he thinks he doesn’t want it to end.
“I hate skiing,” Taehyung whispers, lips barely parting as he breaks the silence.
Jimin tilts his head, harboring a small laugh. He leans closer, a slight trail of confusion in his tone. “What?”
“Jeongguk told me you guys were going on this trip,” Taehyung murmurs, meeting Jimin's eyes with a penetrating gaze, “My bank account is killing me for it,” his eyes soften, “But I knew would regret it for the rest of my life if I let you go.”
Jimin feels his heart swell at the man’s words, and the tears that threaten to spill from his eyes roll down his cheeks with thick trails. Taehyung's sombers, raising his large hands to cusp Jimins cheeks, wiping the trailing tears with the warm embrace of his thumbs.
Jimin breathes a shaky exhale, steadying himself and his composure. The weight of Taehyung's grasp is enough to center him back to the ground with gentle compliance, soothing each and every minor ache with the very notion.
But as Taehyung's touch lingers upon him, Jimin finds himself tempted for more.
He inches closer, settling himself upon Taehyung's body and caressing a hand along the man's soft cheek. He lets his gaze fall as he ghosts a hand down Taehyung's chest, touch seductive and intimate.
“Prove it.”
He feels Taehyung melts like gelato on a hot summer day in his grasp, hypnotized under Jimin's gaze. He leans into the touch with a soft smile and shake of his head, hazy confusion evident in his tone. “Prove what, baby?”
Jimin stares back, ferocity pounding in his chest. “Prove that you won’t let me go.”
A look of realization dawns on Taehyung's face, a slight and exasperated oh drifting from his lips. Jimin watches as the largers’ gaze falls upon the plump delicacy of his own lips, slowly trailing as he takes in Jimin's body like it was the first time. Jimin inches closer, bodies tantalizingly close.
There is barely a moment's notice when Taehyung closes the distance.
Their lips press together once again, but it isn't soft like the first one, this time interlocking with an enticing passion. Jimin releases a breathy moan as Taehyung deepens the kiss, obliging his body closer. The man grabs at Jimin's waist and lifts the smaller onto his lap, feeling their bodies fit together like the final pieces in an intricate puzzle.
Taehyung's large hands roam Jimin's body, tracing the line of his collarbone up to his shoulders. The touch falls inwards, cupping the sides of Jimin's neck before traveling to intertangle inside his damp hair. He presses kisses into Jimin's jaw, lining blossoms of affection down his neck with sheer intimacy.
The enamored moan that releases from Jimin's mouth only spurs Taehyung further, leading him to begin trailing the latters neck with possessive marks, teeth sinking delicately into the exposed skin. Jimin rocks his hips at the motion, pressing his growing erection into the bulge of Taehyung's swimwear.
The larger man hisses at the pressure, hands instinctively cupping Jimin's ass, squeezing the flesh enough to bruise. “God,” he murmurs, voice passionate and fruitful, “I could sing an ode to this ass.”
“I’ve missed your dorky praises, Taehyungie,” Jimin breathes a feeble laugh – one cut off by a groan as Taehyung grasps harder. “I missed you .”
“Don’t worry, darling,” Taehyung murmurs, voice honeyed and seductive as he leans in closer. His breath ghosts Jimin's ear, the faint taft of ash and cinnamon drifting from his lips. He whispers into the kiss, “I will never let you go again.”
Jimin kisses back needily, wrought with a sudden urgency. They hold each other with an iron grip, bodies pushing up against the back of the tub, the pressure of the jet blowing into them. Jimin moans as he feels the presence of Taehyung's tongue as it begins to caress his mouth, licking hotly into it.
Taehyung grabs the back of Jimin's neck, denying him as he tries to pull back for air. The kisses get breathier, heavier, and Jimin decides to seize control. He rocks his hips down into Taehyung's own erection, garnering an exasperated whine from the other man.
“Oh, god .”
“Don’t get too power hungry,” Jimin quips, lips pulling into a taunting grin.
Taehyung stares back, breathless and exasperated. Slowly, a smirk begins to pull at his lips, and Jimin has no time to prepare for what comes next.
Taehyung slips a hand down in between them, palming Jimin's erection through the fabric of his swim shorts. This elicits a dirty whine pulled from his own throat, digging his fingernails into the largest shoulders, feeling the blood rush at the touch.
Taehyung's hand trails the elastic before finally dipping a finger underneath, hand drifting upon forbidden skin. “May I?”
He needs not ask, Jimin’s hefty groan is answer enough.
Taehyung slowly slips down the fabric, allowing Jimin's cock to bounce free. It is immediately met with the warm embrace of the water, and the sensation of a large hand wrapping around its length.
Jimin moans at the notion, releasing a shuddering breath as Taehyung strokes him with a gentle ease. It’s taunting and petty, a trademark of their intimate moments together. Jimin yearns to pick up the pace, feeling his hips unconsciously begin to rock into the rhythm.
“Slow down,” Taehyung whispers, gentle and taunting. “Don’t get too power hungry.”
“Fuck you,” Jimin exhales, breathy and pathetic.
Taehyung resumes with a teasing pace that Jimin is sure only out of pure spite. Each stroke leaves a lingering sensation building in Jimin's chest, a harboring bliss that encapsulates his entire body.
He chuckles breathlessly as Taehyung leans into a kiss, wet and intoxicating. The larger attempts to deepen it, gasping with offense as Jimin pulls away in retaliation — eyes hooded and lips curled into a smirk.
“Brat,” Taehyung snarks.
Jimin snorts, but the humor doesn’t last when Taehyung tightens his grip – a helplessly loud moan escaping Jimin's mouth.
He tries to reach for the largers’ erection, but Taehyung catches his hand mid attempt, bringing it up to his ips. He trails peppered kisses along his wrist, before taking a finger into his mouth and sucking.
“Always a tease, Taehyungie,” Jimin whispers, breathy and seductive. His words only prompt Taehyung to suck harder, a competitive flare in his eyes.
Jimin uses the distraction to let his other hand drift to Taehyung's boxers, cock hard in the bulge of his shorts. And this time, the larger doesn’t argue as he begins to untie the lace, pulling the fabric down with viable force.
Taehyung’s cock hangs free, just as large and tempting as Jimin remembered. Just the sight of it is enough to send his body into heat, the urge to touch it infiltrating his mind with a needy crave.
“Do it,” Taehyung groans, removing Jimin's finger from his mouth..
A playful smile grows on Jimins lips, “Who's the brat now?”
Taehyung rolls his eyes, breath stilted in the depths of his throat. He meets Jimin's gaze with a joking sneer, “Shut up– god! ”
His words cut off as Jimin wrap his own hand around Taehyung's erection, warm and slippery in his grasp. He takes himself in the other hand, pressing their cocks together. Both groan at the filthy heat of it, eyelids fluttering with deepened moans of arousal.
Taehyung begins to stroke them both, and the motion is enough for Jimin's hand to unconsciously grip the latters thick curls, tugging when he feels open-mouthed kisses peppering his collarbone.
The strokes get faster, precum intermixing with the heated water. He presses his thumb against their tips, harboring a shallow whimper from Jimins mouth, unconsciously spreading his knees further apart as the grip on him tightens. Humidity is building up in the room, the near window fogging at the heat.
Taehyung begins to caress his slit, and the water consuming the small cavity only makes his heart throb faster. He handles the porcelain of Jimin's length with immense care – fond, even during such a state. He lets his fingers drift around the tip, harboring an innate arousal.
“I-” Jimin breathes, struggling to get even a single word out. He groans, heaving under Taehyung's touch. “I want you, Taehyungie – I want you to fuck me.”
Taehyung stares back, eyes hooded and lilted. He bats his lashes with a mocking taunt, leaning in closer to murmur; “Say please.”
“Please – god ,” Jimin chokes at the pressure as the larger once again wraps around his length. He summons up his words, thoughts yearning towards the sensation of the man inside him, “Please fuck me.”
A smile grows on Taehyung's lips, and Jimin feels tiny as the man looms over him – positioning himself. His large hands dwarf Jimin's taut chest, adjusting the smallest hips to the perfect angle.
The heated water acts as a natural lubricant as Taehyung slides in with surprising ease, the pleasure encompassing Jimin's entire body overwhelming him. He arches his back under the dooming arousal, leaning into the edge of the tub.
The rhythm gradually increases as Taehyung pushes in and out, and the humid air clinging to Jimin's face is a stark contrast to the moist sensation traveling from his waist downwards. He doesn’t quite know what to make of it, but he likes it. A lot.
Taehyung keeps the pace, pushing deeper and deeper with each thrust. Jimin bucks his hips as they try to hit his favorite spot, moaning with immense pleasure as Taehyung does so with penetrating force. He continues to hit it, nailing his prostate with precise movements.
Perfect.
Jimin is getting dangerously close to his climax, and he urges Taehyung to slow – extending the pleasure. He squirms under the man's touch, back arching and toes curling under the building tension, throaty moans unconsciously escaping his lips.
Jimin spills out a heavy release – cum mixing with the bubbling chlorine that engulfs them. Taehyung takes it as a sign to keep going, grinding with ferocity to reach his own peak as well. It only takes a few moments for him too to come, discharging wetly into Jimin's hole.
They’ve hit a good rhythm, if the orgasm Jimin is cusping on is any clue whatsoever. He doesn’t know how he had gone so long without honing Taehyung's touch, without feeling the sensation of the man on him. He succumbs to the intensity of the moment – the warm water, his beautiful lover, and the euphoria of it all.
He wants to stay like this forever – an eternal paradise of ecstasy, a roller-coaster ride that never ends.
He rides the high out, taking several moments before reaching his peak and falling back down to Earth. He finds himself held tight in Taehyungs’ grasp, warm bodies pressing up against each other in a liquid Jimin suspects to be a culmination of chlorine, sweat, and cum.
“I’m so sorry,” he hears Taehyung whisper, voice hoarse and remorseful. Wet curls fall over the man's sculpted features, framing him in all his glory. “I love you more than anything in this entire fucking universe.”
Jimin gazes back at him with a reminiscent smile, fingernails grasping into the soft flesh of Taehyung's back. He doesn’t respond with words, but rather a soft and intimate press of his lips against Taehyung, full of warmth and love.
Taehyung kisses back, calling for him with each and every grasp, each fleeting touch, exchanged gaze. He traps Jimin in a never ending cycle like nicotine is laced into his every motion, addicting him to the entirety of the man himself.
But Jimin had thought that Taehyung was only a futile ecstasy, a one time high that left him falling further than before. It is only now, held fondly in the man's arms, dark eyes staring back with passionate and soft longing that Jimin realizes.
Maybe with Taehyung, this high can last forever.