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No one took it seriously, the first time Taehyung brought up reading their own fanfiction. They’d all read a bit about their favourite characters before, and knew people had written stories about them too, but it wasn’t something they got involved in.
Until they were having a few drinks over dinner one night at Yoongi’s place, and Taehyung brought it up again.
“You know, Jungkookie and I are winning the ship wars.”
Jungkook almost choked on his beer, Namjoon patting his back as he spluttered a confused, “We’re what?”
Taehyung smiled, clearly pleased he’d caught everyone’s attention. He brought up a page of statistics he’d found somewhere, turning his phone around to display a prominent ‘Taekook’ heading in first place at the top of a bar chart. “We come in first every year,” he said proudly.
Yoongi immediately argues that the numbers don’t matter, none of it is real anyway, but Jimin can’t help his curiosity. Hobi leans in to read from behind him too, laughing at a few of the positions. “Ooh, but hyung, look at us,” he giggles. “We’re fifth! Do you think opening Hwagae market again would bring in more customers?”
Yoongi melts immediately, he’d agree to anything Hoseok suggested.
Namjoon teases Jungkook about the high position with so many of them, claiming it’s because he’s a flirt, which only makes Jungkook get shier and cuter, the few beers making him sleepy and soft between Namjoon and Jin.
The others laugh about the other positions, drawing attention to the ones at the bottom of the ranks. They tease the pairs in the bottom five, saying it must mean they’re not that compatible. Jimin laughs along, but it feels hollow as he focuses on one of the last ship names.
He knows about OTPs, he’s been in enough anime fandoms to recognise a one true pairing, and when Taehyung does an advanced search for all their ship’s works since 2013, Jimin finds himself growing more subdued.
“Aww, Jinnie and Jiminie are in last place for all time,” Hoseok says, already giggling too much after his one and a half standard drinks. “I thought you guys were close.”
They are close, Jimin thinks, but he pastes a smile on his face anyway as Jin laughs good-naturedly. Jin doesn’t look over at him, going back to his conversation, and doesn’t seem bothered by their silly fanfiction ranking in the slightest. Maybe Jimin has had a few too many drinks as well.
“It doesn’t matter, Min,” Hoseok says quietly, bumping his arm when he realises that Jimin hadn’t laughed along with him. “It looks like me and Taehyungie have been lower than you guys the last few years, and you know how close we are in real life.”
As the conversation finally moves on, Jimin’s eyes are drawn down the table to their eldest member. He’s dressed semi-casually tonight in a cream sweater and black jeans. He’s sure their fans would be trending something in all caps if they had seen the way he’d rolled up his sleeves to make the somaek, the sweater emphasising his already broad shoulders and small waist. His hair is simply styled, pushed off his forehead and he looks more mature than usual. Jin is so effortlessly cool, Jimin has always thought so. He doesn’t worry about what other people think, or worry too much at all. They’re polar opposites in that way.
He and Jin are close, they always have been, in this sweet, comfortable way Jimin has always loved. Jin can make him laugh until it feels like his chest might burst, has a ready hug for Jimin whenever he needs one, and is calm and silly and open and warm in equal measure. He’s equally available for a serious conversation, or to play along with one of the member’s jokes at any moment.
Jin has taught Jimin so much about how to be happy over the last few years, but he's still a work in progress. Silly fixations like this set him back all the time, but he has to admit this might be the silliest. Their fans would be the first to tell them the stories they write aren’t real, they don’t truly represent their favourite band or favourite members, they don’t really believe Jimin is a fairy, Yoongi a catboy, or Taehyung a hot serial killer. It’s all made up, and the points don’t matter. Taehyung can keep his and Jungkook’s shippy crown.
Jimin keeps these thoughts at bay for a few hours as the evening winds down, Yoongi eventually nudging him from the couch as the other members start making their way home.
“Are you staying the night?” he asks, holding out a glass of water.
Jimin blinks awake, realising he’d drifted off. He looks down to find Jungkook behind him on the couch, hugging him in his sleep. That explains why he was so warm.
He sits up, accepting the water, but shakes his head. The other hyungs are nowhere to be seen, either already gone home or tucked away in one of Yoongi’s spare bedrooms. He can hear Taehyung singing in the guest bathroom, the sound muffled as if he’s brushing his teeth.
“No,” he says groggily. “No, I’ll call a ride. Thanks for hosting, hyung,” he smiles, eyes still mostly shut as he squints up at him.
“No problem, Jiminie. You okay?” Yoongi asks, wise as always.
“Ugh,” Jimin says, rubbing his face with his free hand. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just need about twelve hours of sleep.”
Yoongi chuckles, patting his shoulder as he moves to gently shake Jungkook awake, detaching him from Jimin’s waist. Jimin smiles at the cute whine he lets out, stroking his hair. He eventually lets Yoongi pull him up and help him into the bedroom. Jimin almost changes his mind about staying, seeing the little group getting ready for bed together, but knows he won’t be the best company right now.
He sends a message to his team and calls out a quick goodbye before he slips outside. His manager lives nearby and helps him avoid an awkward Kakao T ride, pressing a small bottle of red ginseng extract into his hands as soon as he gets in the car.
Once he's home alone again, his thoughts quickly start to wander.
He gets ready for bed, staring blankly at his reflection as he brushes his teeth and washes up. But once he’s formed a cosy blanket burrito, he finds himself pulling up the website again, the screen’s glow the only light in the darkness of his bedroom. He does what he saw Taehyung do, searching for the ship tag, then adding that little ‘otp:true’ tag he mentioned. Unlike the thirty-something-thousand works Tae and Jungkook have of them together, their fans have written around 1,000 for him and Jin. He scrolls down, skimming the titles, mostly in English, a few in Spanish. He filters for Korean language only, and a blank page greets him: 0 works found in Kim Seokjin/Park Jimin.
It’s not a big deal, he thinks, finger hovering over the back button. People can ship whoever they want, and this is only one site. The Naver blogs probably have some in Korean if he really wanted to read them. It’s not like they’re really together, so it shouldn’t be a big deal.
But they could be, his brain supplies. What if they were together? It’s not real, but as silly as he feels, it still hurts a little, seeing that so few fans could see them as a couple. There are plenty of him with everyone else.
He pulls up his KaTalk app and finds his chat with Jin. It’s the middle of the night, he’s probably fast asleep, but Jimin is just looking. He scrolls up a bit, going through the last few months of messages in no time. Their private chat is dead, just a few photos, the odd message about a manhwa they both love, or what time one of them will arrive, that they got home safely. Jin’s last message was two weeks ago, and Jimin had only replied with a dancing chick. If they didn’t work together, would they even see each other? He brings up Jin’s Instagram profile, scrolling aimlessly as his thoughts spiral.
Is it his fault they aren’t closer? He sat on the opposite end of the table from Jin at dinner and only spoke to him a few times directly, but when he looked over, Jimin could see he was enjoying himself, in the middle of what was either great banter or a heated argument with Namjoon and Jungkook, it was hard to tell with those three. He’d overheard Jin making fishing plans with Yoongi for next weekend as well, and he’d gone out with Hobi a few nights ago to some new restaurant, and gone golfing with Tae and some of his actor friends just last week.
Jimin can’t remember the last time he and Jin hung out, just the two of them. He’s not sure they have at all since they moved out of the dorm.
He stops on a particularly aesthetic post, a few photos of the sea and one of his catch, accompanied by a perfect selca he’s sure Jin spent all of five seconds taking. He blinks at it slowly, his eyes growing heavy. Jin is so handsome. The words feel like a cliche these days, but there’s no denying their truth. He remembers how they all teased him when a plastic surgeon once said he had a perfect face, how Jin had smiled and nodded magnanimously, but Jimin had noticed his red ears. Jimin always noticed.
He still has his phone clutched in his hand with the same photo of his smiling hyung open when sleep finally claims him, the screen eventually going dark as the sun rises behind his blackout curtains, his dreams strange and confusing.
It’s in such a mood that Jimin finds himself dropping by Jin’s place unannounced first thing the next morning, or at least as soon as he can get himself out of bed and showered, so closer to 4pm. Security lets him into the complex without question, the bucket hat and face mask doing little to disguise him. He presses the bell outside Jin’s apartment, wiping his hands awkwardly on his jeans as he waits. He doesn’t even know if Jin is home.
He can’t help breaking into a smile, relieved when his hyung’s voice comes through a few moments later, tinny over the small speaker. “Jimin-ah! What are you doing here? Come in.”
The door makes the same trill his own does as it unlocks, but Jin pulls it open himself, calling out Jimin’s name again as he ushers him into the foyer.
He’s in lilac sweatpants and an oversized hoodie in the same shade, the zipper halfway down and showing more of his chest than he usually displays. He must have just slipped on his favourite holographic slides to get the door, kicking them off in the entrance way before he gestures for Jimin to follow him, padding barefoot past the giant RJ statue into the open plan kitchen.
“Did I miss a message?” he asks once Jimin catches up, tapping on his phone screen to wake it up. He’s leaning over the bench, resting on his hands, so Jimin takes one of the barstools across from him.
“No,” Jimin says, shaking his head. He feels silly just dropping by unannounced, then he feels silly again for feeling silly. They used to spend so much time together when they still lived at the dorm, it used to be so easy. “Sorry to just, uh, show up I guess. It’s just been ages since we’ve hung out.”
“Aw, did our Jiminie miss me? We just saw each other yesterday,” Jin teases, but it’s not mean. Jin is never mean, at least not unless he thinks you’ll enjoy it. It’s probably best if Jimin doesn’t think too hard about that.
“Not like this though,” Jimin says, unable to stop the pout he feels forming. “Not just the two of us.”
Jin’s smile reaches his eyes when he laughs, and it only feels like he's laughing at Jimin slightly. “No, I guess not,” he concedes.
Jimin straightens up with a sudden thought. “Oh. Did I mess up your plans for today?”
Jin’s smile stays in place as he shakes his head. “Nope. My calendar is free for Jimin time. Is there anything you wanted to do?”
Jimin nods, feeling awkward. He just woke up wanting to see Jin, he didn’t have any thoughts about what might happen beyond that. He tugs off his hat, running a hair through his hair where it’s gone flat on top. “What would you be doing if I wasn’t here?”
“Hmm, well today’s a rest day. Sleep a lot. Eat a lot. Play MapleStory, or Mario maybe."
“Can you just, um, do what you would usually do, and I can watch?” Jimin asks. Jin must think he’s acting so strangely. Jimin was never awkward like this when they all lived together.
“Sure,” Jin agrees, simple as anything. “Actually, I’ve almost finished the Ryza sequel so I’ll probably play that for a while. If you want to do anything else, just let me know.”
Jimin nods, shuffling behind him along the marble floor in his guest slippers between the living room and kitchen as Jin sets up the game and grabs a few drinks and snacks. The cheese balls appear to be for Jimin’s benefit alone, because Jin doesn’t touch them as he progresses through the game.
Jimin wonders if in another life, or maybe some fictional world, Jin would have been a professional gamer or streamer. Jimin finds himself smiling as he watches, his hyung yelling at the screen in frustration sometimes, or making a joke about barrels Jimin doesn’t have the backstory for at another part. Jimin wonders if his alter ego in that other world would subscribe to Jin’s channel, then feels silly. Of course he’d subscribe and support Jin. The universe would always find a way to bring the seven of them together, he’s sure of it.
Jimin is leaning against Jin’s shoulder, still sprawled together on the couch when the game’s ending music eventually plays and he’s jostled as Jin cheers. He joins in, smiling at Jin’s joy as they watch the credits. Jin saves the game and tosses the controller aside, getting up to stretch, and Jimin realises they’ve been curled up together for at least four hours, and it’s getting dark outside.
“Hungry?” Jin asks, glancing over his shoulder.
Jimin nods, following him like a lost puppy. He’s not cold, but Jin gave him a blanket a few hours ago and he gradually melted into a cocoon, and he’s not quite ready to emerge yet.
He settles at a barstool again as Jin starts pulling open cupboards.
“Did you already make something?” Jimin asks curiously as Jin pulls a metal bowl from the fridge, leaning across the bench to see inside.
“I caught some rockfish this morning,” Jin smiles. Jimin’s eyes go wide as he shows off the prepared fillets. “So I thought I’d make mulhoe.”
“Ooh,” Jimin murmurs, watching raptly as Jin prepares somyeon noodles and some seasonal vegetables. He’s impressed Jin had already gone out while he was busy sleeping at home. He wonders if he asked Yoongi to go with him again, or if he was busy wrangling Tae and Jungkook.
It only takes Jin ten minutes to throw together their meal, slicing the fillets into thin strips and placing them in the centre of their bowls with thinly sliced carrot, cabbage, cucumber, and seaweed arranged around them.
They move to the dining table, Jimin helping set out their bowls and utensils. Jin pours the chilled broth over the dish, and adds a generous dollop of chojang right on top with a sprinkle of sesame seeds.
“This looks so good, hyung,” Jimin says. “I feel like I’m at an exclusive restaurant.”
Jin smiles, pouring two glasses of the white wine he had paired. “Very exclusive. We only cater to the best dongsaengs at Seokjin’s Place.”
Jimin giggles, accepting a glass.
Jin holds his glass up, meeting his eyes over the table, and Jimin gets the message, knocking their glasses together with a gentle ding as he murmurs a soft, “Cheers.”
Jimin's cheeks feel warm even before he takes his first sip of the wine, turning his head away out of respect and a little self-preservation. He can't stop thinking how much it feels like a date with Jin across the table from him.
“Eat up, before it gets warm.”
The mulhoe is delicious, the fish so fresh and slightly sweet, the savoury, tangy broth lending its flavour to the noodles, and the chojang adding the perfect amount of spice. Jimin says as much and Jin thanks him, smiling sweetly before he digs into his bowl again.
Jimin feels a little subdued and Jin must notice, but seems content to enjoy their meal in comfortable silence. It's only when he pushes his bowl back that Jimin finally speaks up.
“Hyung, can I stay over?” Jimin asks quietly, looking down as he pokes at the last few swollen noodles at the bottom of his bowl.
“Of course you can, you don’t need to ask,” Jin answers immediately, but he’s frowning, brow furrowed in concern when Jimin looks up. “But what’s going on? Do you want me to call Hobi?”
“No,” Jimin answers, a little too quickly to alleviate Jin’s worries. “I’m okay, just…” he shrugs, giving up on the dregs of his otherwise empty bowl. “It’s been so long since we hung out, outside of work stuff, which doesn’t really count,” he frowns.
Jin watches him closely, nodding as he listens.
“We used to spend a lot of time together in the dorm,” Jimin says quietly. “I just… I miss it being just us sometimes. You have all these plans with the others, but not with me. It’s dumb, but what Tae showed us last night hurt a little.”
Jin’s lips twitch as he seems to realise what Jimin means, but he holds himself back, slapping his mouth as Jimin looks up at him again, lips pushed out into a pout at his hyung’s reaction.
“Sorry, Jimin-ah, hyung isn’t laughing at you. Do you remember that meeting we had when we were trainees? About some of the things to expect if we became popular, the articles and rumours and even the fanfiction, and not to take it to heart?” he smiles. “I don’t think they had this situation in mind, but it still fits.”
Jimin nods, slumping back in his chair. He wishes he still had the blanket.
“It makes sense that our fans might not write about us like that as much as the others,” Jin reasons. “We’re both very private people, Jimin-ah, more than the rest of the team, except maybe Yoongi. Naturally people see less of us together, because we share a bit less.”
Jimin looks down, considering. They already share so much of their lives, that little piece of peace is vital to him. He knows Jin feels the same way, they all do to a certain degree. What Jin is saying does make some sense, but he doesn’t think that’s it. It feels like something is missing.
“I’m sorry I haven’t made more of an effort to spend time with you, Jimin-ah,” Jin says then, making Jimin look up with wide eyes. “Hobi, Joon, Tae, they’re all more outgoing, they invite me out or add me to their plans. I drag Yoongi out fishing because that’s our thing, and no one else is interested, and I only see Jungkook at the gym,” he laughs.
“I could be interested…” Jimin begins, but Jin just raises an eyebrow.
“I know better than to try to drag you out before midday, Jimin-ah,” he says, and Jimin has to admit that he’s right. “You and I, we’re both homebodies these days, we aren’t planners, especially when it’s not right in front of us. But that’s something we can both work on, hm?” he smiles.
Jimin returns his smile with a small one of his own, pushing himself up from where he had slid halfway down his chair. He looks down again for a moment before nodding seriously, looking up to find Jin still watching him. “I want that. I want to be close like we used to be, even if we don’t have any big plans,” he shakes his head. “We don’t have to do much, I just like everything better when it’s with you, hyung.”
Jin stares at him for a moment, but eventually smiles and Jimin laughs, breaking the serious mood. He feels shy and flustered, baring his emotions like that, but there’s also relief there, a small weight lifting from his shoulders to have shared.
“I’d like that too, Jimin-ah,” Jin says softly, and they smile at each other again before Jin clears his throat, standing to clear their bowls. “Now, let’s find you some pajamas.”
It becomes a habit, going to Jin’s place on their rest days, their private messages showing signs of life again. They’re still busy, but they have a more regular schedule than they usually do leading up to their solo activities, and eventual enlistment. Jimin tries not to think about that too much, hating the thought of them being separated for so long. The hyungs always put on a brave face, especially Jin, but he knows they feel it hovering above their heads too. He doesn’t want to bring it up and have to watch them mask trying to protect him.
After their first little talk, Jin accepts him without question, always the best hyung Jimin could have ever asked for. The hems of Jin’s bad day pajamas get rolled up a few times, the shirt slipping off his shoulder a little, but keeping him cosy whenever they lounge around. Jimin likes that they match, Jin’s blue pair with its chibi angel-Jins to his borrowed black pair with its little devils.
Some days they sprawl on the couch in the living room, sometimes Jimin pulls a chair up next to Jin’s desk when he’s on his PC, watching him play his online games, reading manhwa on his phone until he falls asleep, slumped half on his own chair and half in Jin’s lap. He often feels Jin stroking his hair as he drifts off, so warm and safe. Occasionally he wakes up in Jin’s guest bedroom, but he ends up shuffling to Jin’s bedroom in the middle of the night often enough that after a while, Jin just carries him there first instead. Jimin usually wakes up too warm, legs tangled and draped over Jin’s, or being little-spooned, feeling small beneath Jin’s wide frame. They always used to be physical like this, going to each other’s rooms to hang out and cuddle, and it feels good to finally get back to the way things used to be.
Jimin feels a bit guilty hanging around so often, but Jin doesn’t ever make him feel like he’s overstayed his welcome. He occasionally has plans with his other friends or his family, but if Jimin is over, he checks what Jimin wants to do first, accepting that for the time being, they’re a pair. Not wanting to stop Jin from seeing his other friends, he always agrees, but he can only lose so many rounds of Halli Galli before he bows out, leaving the drinking games to Jin and his childhood friends.
In between their rest days, Jimin still sees the other members, still gets invited out to museums with Joon, over for late night drinks and ramyeon with Jungkook, sleepovers with Tae, shopping with Hobi, and even over for dinner at Yoongi’s once in a blue moon. He loves all his friends, but it still takes more energy than he’s used to just to be present. He knows himself well enough to recognise he’s in a funk, but he’s okay as long as he takes regular breaks. Somehow, being at Jin’s doesn’t burn through so much energy. With Jin, he can just be quiet when he doesn’t feel like talking, and Jin will give him space, only treating him a little more sweetly than usual.
Whenever he’s alone, he finds himself back online, searching their names again. Clearly that presentation from the staff never stuck, but he can’t help being curious. How do their fans imagine their relationship? He starts off with some of the more realistic stories, little scenarios that could have really happened during one of their popular eras, but although he knows it’s harmless, some parts of them feel a little too close to home. He finds a cute little futuristic story about him as an android instead that has him smiling at his phone screen in the middle of the night when he and Jin finally hold hands.
He learns about tags and how to search, and eventually about that werewolf universe that Taehyung is always trying to rope him into. From there, it’s a bit of a blur.
He knew fans were writing them in certain situations, and wasn’t bothered by it, he’s read enough manhwa to get the appeal, but it’s different actually seeing it, reading it with his own eyes. His face flames when Jin fucks him for the first time, his ass self-lubricating by some fantasy magic that’s never really explained. He speeds through several pages of text, his cock filling out and throbbing in his shorts as he ignores it, before tossing his phone to the other side of the bed and burying his face in a pillow when Jin finally finishes inside him.
He takes a cold shower after that, reminding himself that this is his hyung, who has never shown that kind of interest in him. It’s all fantasy, he tells himself. The appeal of something he can’t have, and a healthy curiosity about what their fans like. He doesn’t like Jin that way anyway.
It’s only when it’s too late that Jimin admits to himself that reading fanfiction about them is kind of a problem.
He’s at Jin’s for the weekend, or until Jin says he’s sick of him, which admittedly hasn’t happened yet, dressed in Jin’s matching pajamas again. It’s been a lazy day, slow and comfy, filled with online gaming and good food, followed by noraebang and a few more drinks than they realised. They’re both freshly washed up, Jimin’s hair still a little damp and his cheeks pink from the shower. He smells like Jin, wrapped head to toe in the scent of his soap, shampoo, and fabric softener.
He and Jin are reading together in Jin’s bed, Jin reading the new chapter of a long-running manhwa they both like. It’s getting warm enough that they don’t really need a blanket, but it’s cosy with it draped over their lower halves, RJ tucked next to Jimin, and the room lit by warm lamplight. Jimin is turned away on his side, his phone screen’s backlight dimmed as he reads a story he had bookmarked. He really shouldn’t be reading it now, but he started reading the first few lines and got caught up when things started getting juicy. This alpha Jin is a bit older, and omega Jimin is a bit younger, and it starts off with him playing delivery boy like one of the cliché pornos from Joon’s communal library, and oh no now he’s feverish, and Jin is so hot and caring, and suddenly Jimin is getting wet and it’s just a lot to take in.
He’ll just read a bit more, find a natural stopping point before he brings up his manhwa app. He wants to be able to talk to Jin about the new chapter when they’re both up to date.
He doesn’t realise how much he’s squirming until Jin shuffles over, propping himself up behind Jimin, his free hand moving up his side as if to hug him like they often do.
“What're you reading?” Jin asks near his ear, just as his hand makes contact. It only just brushes Jimin’s underarm, but Jin always seems to find exactly where to touch to set Jimin off, and in his surprise and guilt, Jimin jerks, his body reacting with a sudden spasm as he cries out, his phone sailing over the side of the bed, making a dull thud as it hits the carpet.
Jimin freezes, eyes closing in mortification. He’s sure Jin is staring down at him in shock, and can feel the blood rushing to his face. He’s not sure when he last blushed, but he definitely is now, his cheeks growing steadily warmer as he feels Jin roll off the bed behind him. Jimin’s hand drops as the blanket is pulled away, draping over the front of his borrowed pajama pants as he curls in on himself.
“Are you okay?” Jin laughs, confusion clear in his voice. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to tickle you, I just—”
He cuts off abruptly, and Jimin opens his eyes.
Jin is standing a few metres from the bed, looking down at his hand, where he must have just picked up Jimin’s phone. He stares down at it for a moment, before Jimin reaches up, quickly snatching it back.
“Uh, thank you,” Jimin murmurs, clutching it to his chest as he curls back against the pillows, looking anywhere but at his hyung’s face. He wants to drown in Jin’s oversized pajamas and forget this ever happened.
“Jimin-ah,” Jin says, and Jimin just hums in response. “Jimin,” he says more forcefully, and Jimin looks up, cheeks both pink and pale in turn. “I saw something. On your phone.”
Jimin can’t figure out his expression. It was only a second, he couldn't have seen much, Jimin deludes himself.
“What did you see?” Jimin asks anyway, like an idiot. He blames the plum wine.
Jin narrows his eyes, prowling— walking, just walking, closer and dropping one knee onto the bed. He’s hovering above Jimin, his frame blocking out most of the lamplight as he looks down at him.
“I think I saw,” Jin begins, voice low. “My precious dongsaeng being dirty in his hyung’s bed.”
Jimin swallows, heart racing as Jin leans over, one hand on the headboard, penning him in. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You don’t? Should hyung help remind you, Jimin-ah?”
It’s not fair that someone can still look that attractive when annoyed. He leans close, his face so close to Jimin's, and Jimin can’t help but hold his breath and stare at Jin’s lips, only a few inches away.
“Show me,” Jin says, using his hyung voice. Alpha voice, Jimin’s brain supplies unhelpfully. Jimin barely resists when Jin tugs the phone out of his hands.
Jimin regrets ever showing him his passcode when Jin swipes in easily, scanning the text on screen as he scrolls down with his thumb. He tsks, and Jimin shrinks in on himself at the judgement in his tone alone.
“Jimin cries out as Seokjin's knot grows, stretching his rim to its limits as the Alpha’s hot seed pumps deep inside him,”Jin reads aloud in an exaggerated tone, and oh, it's so much worse, but still so stupidly hot in his voice, the heat licks at Jimin's face. Jin relaxes his wrist, the phone in a loose hand as his gaze moves back to Jimin, lips pursed. “You really are a dirty boy, Jimin-ah. Reading smut about us right next to me. It's like you wanted to get caught.”
“No, I didn't, I just—I–I'm sorry, hyung,” Jimin whispers in mortification, pressing his hands to his face in a vain attempt to put out the fire.
“Oh? What's this?” Jin murmurs, and Jimin moves his hands, peeking through. Jimin gasps as Jin shifts forward, his knee grazing the tent in the front of Jimin's pants. “You don't seem to be very sorry, getting hard reading about me fucking you.”
“Hyung, I—”
“Were you going to wait until I was asleep to take care of that under the covers? Have you done that before?” Jin questions, mocking him. It’s mean, but it’s what Jimin deserves.
“No!” Jimin gasps, shaking his head desperately. “Hyung . I haven’t—You know I wouldn’t do that.”
“I didn’t think you’d be reading porn about us in bed right next to me either…” he murmurs, eyebrows raised. He glances down, leading Jimin’s own gaze to the front of his pants, where a bump is still noticeable. Jimin looks away quickly, moving one leg up to hide his erection. He can’t help his physical reaction, it’s Jin’s fault he’s so hot. “Do you want to go… take care of that?”
Jimin shakes his head stubbornly, crossing his arms.
“Well, it’s not going down on its own,” Jin points out, tilting his head.
“It will eventually,” Jimin mutters, wanting this whole night to end. He really flew too close to the sun with this one, wings crudely fashioned of smut and self-lubricant.
Jin does some kind of cheap drama school trick then, touching Jimin’s chin to turn his head back until their eyes meet. “Let hyung help,” he suggests, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
Jimin buffers, dick twitching and mouth slack as words fail him for a moment. “Hyung,” he says, letting out a little incredulous laugh. “You’re really offering to jerk me off? We haven’t even kissed before, but you’ll happily touch my dick?”
Jin smirks, looking amused at Jimin’s crisis. “We can hit that base first if you want.”
Jimin stares, his eyes unconsciously drifting to his hyung’s lips again. They’re so pink, and look so plump and soft. One corner quirks up all smug. Jimin thinks the problem with Kim Seokjin is that sometimes he’s all too-aware of his power. Unfortunately, Jimin’s dick doesn’t really care.
“It wouldn’t be weird?” Jimin hears himself ask, pouting up at Jin.
“Why would it be weird? We’ve known each other for over ten years, I’ve already seen everything,” Jin shrugs. “It won’t take long, then we can sleep.”
Maybe Jimin would think it through more if he wasn’t still a little tipsy, or maybe he would realise it’s a bad idea if he wasn’t throbbing so much inside his bad boy bad day PJs, but neither of those things happen. Instead he holds Jin’s gaze for a long moment, finally giving him a small nod and a quiet but steady, “Okay, hyung.”
For all of Jin’s cocksure confidence before, when he helps Jimin wriggle his pants down enough to free his cock, even in the dim light, Jimin notices how bright his ears are. They’re both nervous, but the resulting pang in his chest helps Jimin relax, gasping when his hyung’s hands make contact with his bare skin.
His stomach contracts as Jin’s fingers smooth down his body, finally touching his cock, his slim fingers circling him gently. He pulls away for a moment, and Jimin watches as Jin licks his own hand, returning to Jimin’s cock with just enough moisture to be manageable. Unfortunately real life Jimin isn’t self-lubricating, he thinks, going slightly insane.
“Okay?” Jin asks, looking up from where he’s hunched over Jimin as he strokes up and down, tightening his grip as he rubs his leaking tip, spreading his pre as his pace increases.
Jimin nods, feeling embarrassingly close just from his hyung’s hand on his dick. He’s barely been touched, but he feels like a virgin with Jin’s broad shoulders filling his field of vision. This was something he dreamed of in his most secret moments when they were younger, when his Jin-hyung was the coolest person he knew. Nothing has really changed.
“Hey,” Jin whispers, so close when Jimin opens his eyes. He’s breathing too heavily as Jin’s hand moves between his legs, clutching his shoulder and trying not to thrust up into his fist. “We’re off base.”
Jin grins when Jimin lets out a breathy little laugh, realising what he means. Watching his face, Jin leans closer, giving Jimin time to stop him, but he wants this just as much. He tilts his head up towards him, meeting Jin’s eyes for a moment, then lets them slip closed when their lips meet for the first time.
It’s everything, more. Jimin makes a little sound and feels Jin’s answering smile against his lips. Jin’s are petal soft, even more plush than they looked. They move together slowly, savouring the touch, sharing one breath as Jin’s free hand strokes gently between his legs.
It shouldn’t be enough, but it’s Jin, his hyung’s mouth and his hand, so it’s different. It’s so much more than Jimin was expecting, more than he could have ever imagined, his matching pajama pants wrinkled around one ankle as his head falls back, Jin’s lips moving to his neck, laving over his racing pulse as Jimin jerks his hips up into the tight circle of his hand. It’s Jin’s voice at his ear, whispering encouragements that pushes him over the edge, his breath hitching as he comes silently into his hyung’s hand.
It takes a long moment for Jimin to move again, coming back into himself to the feeling of Jin pressing his lips to his temple as he slowly disentangles himself and moves towards the bathroom, sticky hand held against his chest.
Jimin can hear the water running in his ensuite, but suddenly feels incredibly exposed with his lower half bare. He grabs a tissue from a box on the bedside table, wiping himself up as well as he can before he wriggles back into the pajama pants.
“Oh,” Jin says when he returns, holding up a damp cloth. “Do you need this?”
Jimin shakes his head, the sticky feeling in his pants . “Um, it’s okay, I’ll just use the bathroom,” he murmurs, slipping past.
“Okay,” Jin replies, but his expression is hard to read again. He tosses the cloth back into the sink before Jimin closes the door, giving him a small close-mouthed smile.
Jimin can barely look in the mirror, the brief glimpse of bed-hair, flushed cheeks and swollen lips enough to think about. He washes his face, pees, has a half-shower and gets back into his pajamas, then brushes his teeth for the second time that night. By the time he finally emerges, the lamp is off and Jin’s form is still on the far side of the bed. Jimin slips under the sheets, careful not to disturb him, but it takes a long time before sleep finds him.
Sunday 9:03 am
Jin-hyung 🩷
Jimin-ah, is everything okay? I didn’t hear you leave
Sunday 11:13 am
Jin-hyung 🩷
Can you call me when you wake up? Hyung is worried. Sleep well
Sunday 6:31 pm
Big Hit Park Jimin #1
Sorry hyung. I’m okay. I’ll see you at work
Jimin acts normal at the office, not wanting to make things more awkward than they already are, but Hoseok still pulls him aside in the hall only an hour into the day.
“What happened between you and Jin-hyung?”
“Nothing,” Jimin says, face carefully blank.
“Bullshit,” Hoseok says bluntly, eyebrows drawn. “You clammed up every time he spoke at the staff meeting, and you could barely look at him.”
Okay, so maybe he’s not acting that normal, or even acting that well at all.
Jimin shrugs, staring at one of the art pieces Namjoon filled the halls of their floor with. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Should I call a team meeting to mediate? I don’t want it getting worse and impacting our next performance.”
“Leave it alone, please, Hoseokie hyung,” Jimin pleads. “I’ll fix it, okay?”
Hoseok purses his lips, sucking air through his teeth before he concedes. “Fine. But if it starts to impact the team…”
“It won’t,” Jimin promises, ignoring the pang in his chest again.
Some habits are hard to break, Jimin realises when he gets up at midday the following weekend, remembering he has nowhere to go. Despite his promise to Hobi, he’s no closer to ‘fixing’ anything, having avoided Jin all week. It’s easier than it would have been a few years ago, now that they have their own staff and are working on more individual projects. It’s handy, but also kind of lonely.
He misses Jin, and that makes him feel like an asshole.
Just then, his phone vibrates, buzzing against the glass coffee table.
Saturday 2:22 pm
Jin-hyung 🩷
Jimin-ah. Hyung is coming to drop off fruit. Be there in 10
“Shit.”
He starts typing then holds down the back key. They don’t live far from each other, but ten minutes means Jin is already driving, there’s no point replying, he probably won’t even check his phone once he gets out of the car. Jimin can’t think of a decent reason not to accept a fruit box anyway, unless he wants to be an asshole to the whole Kim family.
He runs to the bathroom, running a brush through his fluffy hair and brushing his teeth. He stops himself when he starts applying a little colour to his lips, dropping the tube back in the drawer. At least he’s dressed, in a plain white t-shirt and blue shorts he’s had forever.
His apartment is less ready for visitors, but it’s just Jin. Jin, who is too good for a justbefore his name, but who Jimin knows won’t judge him for a few empty beer cans and too many dishes, even if he deserves it. It’s been a long week.
Before he can overthink any more, the doorbell is going. Jimin runs to the door, stopping by the security screen long enough that the bell goes again before he finally buzzes Jin in.
He opens the door, letting in the most attractive delivery man he’s ever seen. Jin is in his most boyfriend-looking fit ever in faded denim with a white Louis Vuitton t-shirt and sneakers, which Jimin thinks is very unfair.
“Hi,” Jimin says.
“Hi,” Jin echoes. They stare at each other for a moment, until Jin looks down, as if just remembering the large box he’s carrying. “Here,” he says, pushing it into Jimin’s arms.
Jimin peers into the box, seeing a few packages of grapes, secure in foam netting, and also half a dozen loose mangoes.
“There are mangoes in here,” Jimin says, looking up at Jin in confusion. “Your family doesn’t even grow mangoes.”
“Yeah well,” Jin says. “I’ve been upset with you. Give them back.”
Jimin stares, slack-mouthed as Jin reaches in, jostling him as he takes the mangoes back, tossing them into his messenger bag. He looks back up with a raised eyebrow. “Are you going to invite me in?”
“Oh! Uh, sure,” Jimin murmurs, walking back through the house to set the cardboard box on the kitchen bench. Jin dumps his bag onto a chair at the dining table.
There’s an awkward silence between them. Jimin looks down at the bench, hoping Jin isn’t thinking how much of a slob he is. He would’ve cleaned if he’d had more than ten minutes. Or he would’ve thought of a decent excuse.
“So,” Jin begins. “You’ve been avoiding me. We kissed, and fooled around, and now you’re done? Is that all you wanted from me?”
Jimin’s eyes grow wider the more Jin speaks.
“No!” he swears, panic creeping in. That’s the last thing he wants Jin to believe.
“So then, why were you stuck to my side for weeks, if as soon as I reciprocate anything, you ignore me like this? I thought it was something we both wanted,” Jin finishes. He looks up at Jimin again, worry clouding his expression, and Jimin feels a hundred times worse.
“No, that’s not it,” Jimin begins urgently, shaking his head, but it’s a struggle to find the right words. “I did want it.”
Jin laughs, but there’s no humour in it. “Sure felt that way when you snuck out before I woke up. Do you know how stupid it felt to wake up alone, to think something bad happened to you, and stress all day seeing you were online but not replying to me? I thought something had happened to you, or that I had misunderstood and taken advantage of you. You just couldn’t wait to get away from me I guess.”
“Stop,” Jimin cries, squeezing his eyes shut. “Hyung, it’s not like that. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for leaving, and ignoring your messages. But you didn’t do anything wrong,” he says, breath shaky as he tries not to cry. God, he really fucked everything up.
“Then, why?” Jin asks softly, and it sounds so small and broken, but Jimin is the one who breaks.
He sobs, fat tears welling and spilling down flushed cheeks, and despite this mess Jimin created, Jin is still the perfect hyung. He pulls Jimin in, cheek to his strong chest, and his arms wrap around Jimin’s slim frame, holding him tightly.
Jimin cries for a while, long enough that Jin lifts him up, moving them to Jimin’s couch. Jimin shivers when his legs hit the cool white leather, but Jin just tugs him further into his lap, dragging a throw blanket around Jimin and holding him until his sniffles slow down. He can’t remember the last time he cried.
“Will you talk to me, sweetheart?” Jin asks softly once his breathing is more stable, brushing his hair back out of his eyes.
Jimin looks down at his chest, at his hands gripping Jin’s t-shirt and the wet patch where it had absorbed his tears. He was worried about losing Jin, about something irreparable happening to their relationship, but in trying to stop getting too deep into his feelings, he created a self-fulfilling prophecy. No matter how Jin felt about him, Jimin’s lack of communication did more damage than a confession ever could.
He looks up, and Jin gives him a sad smile, one arm around his waist, the other reaching up to cup his cheek in one hand. His thumb breaks up a tacky tear-track, and Jimin wonders again if he even deserves him.
He takes a deep breath, then slowly lets it go.
“I liked what we did, hyung,” Jimin says quietly, looking at him seriously. “I really liked it.”
Jin scans his face and eventually nods. “Okay,” he accepts, and a small weight lifts from Jimin’s shoulders. “What made you want to leave?”
It’s harder to keep eye contact for his next words, but he tries his best, staring at his hyung’s collarbone where it peeks above the neckline of his t-shirt. “I think I liked it too much,” he says softly.
Jin makes a noise, and Jimin looks up abruptly.
“Don’t laugh! I just… Hyung,” he pauses, reaching up to take Jin’s free hand in both of his. “I really like you. I have for a while, but it’s only in the last few months that I really realised what that means to me.”
He looks up at Jin, who nods, encouraging him to go on as he squeezes Jimin’s hand. There’s no humour in his expression, but Jimin lets himself believe that it’s a good sign. He doesn’t expect anything, listening is all he needs.
“I got too caught up in my head, after everything,” Jimin continues. “My feelings were suddenly so obvious to me, and so strong, and I didn’t want to dump them all on you when that wasn’t what you signed up for. And I wasn’t drunk, but I’m sure that plum wine didn’t help,” he adds, giggling nervously.
“Hey, don’t blame the wine,” Jin admonishes. “We did that all ourselves.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair to keep it off his forehead. It cascades back in to frame his handsome face in seconds. “You really stressed hyung out, please take responsibility for the grey hairs I must have grown.”
Jimin cranes his neck, but only sees inky black. “Okay, I will,” he promises, with a solemn bow of his head.
Jin’s free hand drops, and he takes both of Jimin’s hands in his, looking at him seriously again.
“Jimin-ah. I really like you too,” Jin smiles, borrowing Jimin’s words as he threads their fingers together. “Honestly, I’m pretty obvious about it, I’m surprised you haven’t noticed.”
Jimin’s smile grows bit by bit as he feels how sincere his words are. Butterflies are swarming in his stomach, but his focus is on something more pressing.
“Hyung. Can I kiss you?”
“Only if you really want to,” Jin grins.
“Oh, I really want to,” Jimin assures him. “I’ve been thinking about it all week.”
Their second kiss is much like the first, but also so much better. It grows heated quickly with Jimin in his lap, but they keep their clothes on for the moment, just grinding lazily together on the couch like they’re teenagers again. There’ll be plenty of time for everything else later.
A few hours later, when they’re all soft and cuddly, their lips kiss-swollen and the fire banked in their bellies, Jimin slips out of Jin’s lap, standing before him with a giggle. “Do you want to stay over and read Jinmin fanfic together?”
Jin bursts out laughing. “That depends. Can I borrow some pajamas?”
“You can wear what I wear,” Jimin grins, beginning to strip right there in the living room.
Jin stares, drinking in the vision before him as more of Jimin’s skin is exposed, his slim, toned chest with small glimpses of pretty ink, and his strong legs and thighs as his shorts drop to the floor. “God, you’re so hot,” he groans, standing as Jimin shimmies out of his underwear.
Jimin yelps as Jin leans down to toss him over his shoulder, a supportive hand on his ass. “Relax, Jimin-ah. Alpha-hyung will take care of you.”