Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Shit hits the fan all in one day.

They are seated in their usual spots for their Osaka fan signing, Hoseok and Taehyung rounding the ends and Jeongguk in the middle, as usual. Jimin is lucky enough to be on the maknae’s good side today, getting more giggles out of the usually rough boy who had long since matured into the definition of a “muscle pig,” as they endearingly call him.

That all means that Jimin gets to sneak in some extra teasing and flirty touches, although he’d never openly call it that -- no, he’s just being the caring hyung that he’s expected to be. No matter how much everyone knows he dotes on the younger, eagerly taking all the attention Jeongguk would give him, Jimin knows better than to acknowledge the truth.

He does his usual slaps and light pushes when the younger mimics his habit of pushing his hair back, laughs extra loudly when Jeongguk exaggerates his 3:33 Fire dance, and uses their fan gifts like bunny ears or stuffed animals to get in the way of Jeongguk and whatever lucky fan he is meeting at the moment.

This is all routine for Jimin, all a safeguard to ensure that his heart never beats too quickly, his breaths never leave him too lightheaded, and his palms never get too clammy at the sight of Jeongguk shining in his element. The boy is truly meant to be a star, a nova, bursting on stage -- exuding confidence, charisma and a natural ability to connect with the audience, drawing them in to give him their absolute, undivided attention.

Too bad Jimin is just as enraptured with Jeongguk as every star-struck girl in the audience is.

Too bad they’re bandmates, sworn brothers.

Too bad Jimin will never have Jeongguk the way he dares to allow himself to dream of during his restless nights, when his sheets are kicked off in frustration and his hands roam, making up for the lack of physical touch he’s been starved of for years.

Maybe it’s the fact that Jimin’s wanted Jeongguk for years now, adoring the young boy from very early on in their budding friendship as trainees at Big Hit, leaning on each other for support as they worked their way up from insecure trainees to rookie idols.

Of course, at first, he felt the simple draw to Jeongguk because everything Jeongguk did reminded Jimin of home, Busan -- the cozy mist of the mountains in his backyard crackling with the hidden satoori of Jeongguk’s morning voice. It was also the way Jeongguk’s nervousness was just so adorable, the way he’d hide in his room until all the hyungs showered before even daring to go to the bathroom when everyone was fast asleep -- everyone except Jimin, of course.

He knew the boy was much too young to be pushed into the spotlight, too wide-eyed to accept the brash life of an idol that was sure to come. But Jeongguk had grown, had matured so well, accepting the title of “Golden Maknae” that weighs so heavily on his shoulders, the expectation so overwhelmingly suffocating at times that he’d sneak into Jimin’s bed to bury his face in his shoulders, whispering, “I miss home.”

But those days are long gone, Jeongguk never visits Jimin’s bed anymore. If fact, Jeongguk now rarely lets himself be caught in a position of weakness, always striving to do better, to be the best. It isn’t arrogance, Jimin knows, it’s simply the younger trying to own up to what he knows he can do, what he can achieve.

Jimin is proud of him, if not ignoring the pang of loneliness he feels every time he remembers that Jeongguk doesn’t need him anymore.

So when their fanmeet ramps up to a close, Jimin breathes out a sigh of relief. He loves their wonderful fans, completely is indebted to their devotion and support. If it wasn’t for them, he knows he’d be struggling to find himself back at home, a lost country boy, wondering what if? his entire life.

Two more rows of fans line up for a signing and one girl stands in front of Jeongguk expectantly, her hands wringing in nervousness -- the fans are allowed to ask them one question, and they’re usually the typical “What’s your idea type?” or something cute like that.

“Oppa,” she begins, earning the look that Jeongguk gives when he knows the girl is definitely not younger than him, but she continues, “Taehyung oppa said he chooses you over Jimin oppa.”

This catches Jimin’s attention, who’s sitting to Jeongguk’s left, but he’s not too bothered. Taehyung and Jimin are best bros. Sure, they used to feed off of each other’s affections and be a lot more into skinship, but now they’re more like solid pillars in each other’s lives. Jimin knows Taehyung also adores Jeongguk, and is quite frankly, more obvious about it than he is. Sometimes Jimin wonders about them...

“So... who do you pick?” Her eyes are glassy, breath held in wonder, “Between Taehyung oppa and Jimin oppa?” she clarifies.

Jimin chooses not to intervene, readying his heart for the rejection that is inevitable. Taehyung shouts from the other end of the table, “Gukkie, you better choose me!” Everyone cracks up a little bit, and Jimin plays along, looking at the girl with his famous eye smile.

Jeongguk pauses, “Well, I guess I’m closer with V hyung than Jimin hyung, but I don’t really show my affections much in public.”

Jimin isn’t sure what exactly gets to him with that response. It’s not anything new -- he’s aware that the two boys are really, really close, even closer than he would ever get a chance to be with Jeongguk.

Jimin's rational mind attributes this to Taehyung’s relentless affectionate fondness that he lavishes on the youngest. Jeongguk is the only person Taehyung really gets to be a hyung to -- after all, Taehyung is the second youngest in the group. Somehow, he just manages to break through Jeongguk’s stubbornness and the boys had grown inseparable.

Jimin remembers Dubai.

Just a couple of months ago, after their KCON performance in the swelteringly hot country, they had set off to shoot more photos and videos for their “Summer Package.”

They were lounging around the pool, taking silly photos and splashing each other, when the PD told them to get into teams for a game in the water. Jimin, feeling extra happy that day -- partially because they were in Dubai, and partially because Jeongguk had indulged him with a few extra touches, backhugs and let him sit on his lap for some group shots -- immediately shot up his hand to ask Jeongguk to be his partner, only to be ignored as the youngest grabbed Taehyung’s hand to pull him close.

He had to take a few seconds to compose himself, laughing it off as a cover.

Stuff like that is nothing new. And although the constant rejections from Jeongguk have gotten a lot better and less frequent over the years, the hurt and the vice grip around his heart never subdued.

Back in reality, Jimin chirps out a nonchalant reply to Jeongguk’s answer and nearly shocks the whole table when he simply waves the girl over for his turn to sign her CD.

Jeongguk is staring at him, he sees in his peripheral, and Taehyung’s brows are furrowed from where he sits further off. Hoseok squeezes his thigh under the table, knowing full well about Jimin’s sensitivities when it comes to their youngest. And that’s that. No indignant squawk, no offended shove, nothing.

Jimin smiles at the girl, who’s not as in tune with the group’s dynamics and totally misses the moment of shifting personas between the members.

“Who can I make this out to?” he asks politely. Just smile and move on, he tells himself. Just like you’ve done for years.

They finish their fan sign with success, bowing politely over and over before exiting the stage. Jimin normally wraps an arm around Jeongguk as they hustle over to the van, but this time, he keeps his distance. If someone asks, he’ll just say it’s because he’s tired.

The worried glances from Jeongguk don’t go unnoticed, but Jimin is actually really quite tired, both physically and mentally, and doesn’t want to deal with the added weight that seems to crush his heart at the thought of the younger’s most recent rejection.

Jimin knows, he knows it’s all for fun -- all an act that they’ve been doing on stage for the interviews and fans. Jimin pursues Jeongguk, Jeongguk pushes him away. In reality, at the comfort of their humble dorms, Jeongguk is never harsh to him, and acts like a fine dongsaeng, treating him with respect most of the time.

But there’s just something about today that snaps in Jimin. It’s not just the fact that Jeongguk chose Taehyung over him. Jimin’s struggling to pinpoint exactly what it is that causes a u-turn in the way he now perceives Jeongguk and his relationship with him. Maybe it is because all the love he has for the doe-eyed boy has been bubbling under the surface for so damn long, the pressure simply bottled up and growing in silent warning of explosion, and everything is just so fucked up in his mind. He's had enough.

Sliding into the van, he shuffles to take the furthest seat away from Jeongguk, leaning his head on the window, eyes closed and willing himself to sleep, to forget.

Yoongi nudges him, quirking his head toward Jeongguk, who’s been shooting Jimin glances the whole time from the row in front. “Everything okay, Minnie? Jeongguk looks like he’s gonna burst, worrying like that.”

Jimin smiles at Yoongi’s perceptiveness. “Thanks hyung, really. I’m just tired. Gonna try to get some sleep before we get to the hotel, okay?”

Yoongi nods, knowing not to prod. After living together for so long, the boys catch on quickly when it comes to giving each other space, and there’s a neon sign blaring above Jimin that signals his absolution to silence.

Jimin purses his lips and turns in his seat to fully face out the window, ignoring the dark eyes that burn into his skull from across the van.

Chapter Text

Jimin’s just about to fall asleep, back in his bed at the swanky hotel, lights all bright and glaringly so in the most innovative and superimposed techy kind of way, when a knock at his door jolts him fully awake.

A part of him wants to just ignore it, let the excuse of sleep keep him nestled in the comforts of his fluffy pillow and plush down comforter, but there it is again, the knock, insistently tapping in a jostled rhythm.

He groans, then pulls himself out of bed, cursing the lack of blunt ignorance that he seems to have when it comes to being considerate towards others. It would do him some good to just think about himself for once, although he and the rest of Bangtan probably will never see that day come. Padding to the peephole, he catches a glimpse of the hooded shape of Jeongguk. He’s slouched against the door, head leaning in and letting his knuckles continually pitter-patter against the wood.

Jimin doesn’t want to answer, doesn’t want to let him know he’s awake, but he knows that’s wrong -- Jeongguk doesn’t deserve to be blatantly ignored, despite what happened earlier. Or despite anything, really.

Sighing, he stares at the door, toying with the lock, but doesn’t twist it open just yet. “Jeongguk? What do you want?”

The tuff of dark brown hair perks up at the sound of Jimin’s voice, straightening his posture as if he knows Jimin is watching. “Uh, hyung, can I come in?”

“I was just about to go to sleep, Guk.”

Jeongguk’s shoulders take a slump, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. “Um, it’s kind of important... but if you really insist, I can wait until tomorrow.”

Jimin flinches at the hurt evident in the younger’s voice, the vibrato that wavers just at the end of his sentence. He knows Jeongguk rarely shows his soft side, choosing to be blunt and force his way on the hyungs like an overgrown dog. The boy standing sheepishly outside of Jimin’s door is nothing like that, and Jimin almost feels a sense of deja vu that takes him way back to the times when Jeongguk would seek him out in the middle of the night, senses overflowing with homesickness.

The younger starts shuffling away at the lack of response, and Jimin finds himself rotating the lock, the door swinging open. Jeongguk is clearly surprised, a small smile tugging at his lips, and Jimin gives him a curt nod, turning on his heel to walk back into his room.

Jeongguk follows.

The steps back to his bed are purposeful, as if Jimin knows one misstep would mean demolishing the wall that he’s begun to build all evening. The wall is thin, fragile, almost a sad excuse for a type of boundary, but it’s a start, and Jimin is tired of being trampled over.

They find themselves sitting stiffly at the edge of the bed, Jimin out of instinct, and Jeongguk because of Jimin.

“Hyung?” The younger doesn’t try to make eye contact, gaze glued to his own hands that are nervously rubbing against his knuckles. Jimin hums. “Did... did I... tonight...”

The crackles of silence between Jeongguk’s attempts to formulate a sentence aren’t insidious or offensive. They aren’t stifled or tense, but it sure alerts both parties that there’s a disconnect, there’s a lapse in communication and something isn’t right.

Jimin, being the person he is, decides to try to put Jeongguk out of his misery. “Jeongguk, it’s nothing. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just...”

Jeongguk’s looking at him now. His eyes, so famously known for being round and curious, are now glazed over, brows furrowed and lips pursed.

“...It’s not you.” Jimin tries not to scoff at his own cliche excuse, then almost does scoff at the irony of its perfect fit in this situation. “It’s me. I’m just having an off day, you know the way we all get sometimes.”

He tries to pull in the reins on his otherwise clenching heart when a downcast look creeps across Jeongguk’s handsome features. The young boy, Bangtan’s golden maknae, looks so much younger now, hair tousled after a shower, bare face shining in the fluorescent sheen. Jimin wants to reach out to stroke his cheek in the comforting way he’s always done when Jeongguk used to seek him out. It would make him feel important, knowing that Jeongguk needed him, seeing the way he would nuzzle into his palm like it was enough. Like Jimin was enough.

But that was then -- Jimin knows better than to wish for those days.

“You don’t have to worry. I promise we’ll be okay.”

They’re having the evening open for what the staff calls a “free night,” but everyone and their mother knows that the word “free” is being used surreptitiously. The boys aren’t completely at ease to behave candidly, and their private room that’s booked at the glamorous lounge still has staff monitoring the overall location, just to make sure.

But winning their first 1st place music show win warrants a full fledged celebration.

No one could’ve seen it coming, especially Jimin. Winning first place is every idol’s dream, a benchmark that equates to least some form of success, and justification for the countless hours of sweat, work, desperation and tears. It means tenfold more considering that they’ve risen from the likes of a relatively unknown company, starting from the dust.

He remembers filming their dance practice video for I Need U, feeling the amp of pulsating pressure to hit every - move - right - on - the - dot.

Jeongguk had picked his outfit that day, a kind of odd ritual they did when filming certain Bangtan Bombs. They would choose clothes for each other, sometimes out of spite to make the other squirm, like the first time Jin picked too many pink articles of clothing for Namjoon, or sometimes just because it looked damn good on them.

This instance, Jeongguk playfully shoved a small piece of black cloth into Jimin’s hands, a smirk on his face, “I dare you to wear this.”

Jimin was only partially horrified when he saw how little fabric laid there. Apparently it was supposed to be a pair of shorts, but where the other half of it remained, Jimin had no idea. When he put them on, accompanied with Jeongguk’s wild cackling behind him, he wrinkled his nose as the hem rode up far past his knees, riding dangerously mid-thigh.

“You little fucker, Guk, I swear--”

An exaggerated gasp jutted in, “Watch your mouth, hyung, you wouldn’t want to be a bad influence.” Jeongguk was the epitome of cheeky.

“Try out the chorus,” Jeongguk said, gesturing to the middle of the room, floor messy with dirty laundry and hats strewn haphazardly.

Seeing no way out, Jimin padded toward his mark and waited to get this over with. The air wafting along his thighs felt nice, he decided, but that didn’t make the situation any less annoying. Sure, he knew the fans had mentioned something about liking his toned limbs, but this was a bit much, even for Jimin. Yet another thing I’ll have to keep up, like my abs, he lamented.

He waited for Jeongguk to finish fiddling with his phone and track the song to a few beats before the chorus. Jeongguk then stepped back to let Jimin test it out.

Jimin briefly caught sight of the dark look in Jeongguk’s eyes, but before he had a chance to mull it over, the beat dropped and he snapped into formation, punching each step, arms slicing through the air and hips rolling on point. The shorts rode up especially high when he had to kneel down, baring the milky skin, and if he heard Jeongguk’s breath catch, he didn’t make a move to acknowledge it.

Not bothering to go through the second chorus, he sighed and slumped against the bed. “Fuckin’ hell, everyone’s gonna give me shit for this, you know?”

The dark look was gone, replaced with Jeongguk’s typical twinkle. “Of course, hyung. That’s the point.”

A slap resounded across Jeongguk’s shoulder, then they both burst into laughs.

Now sitting in the plush leather booth of the club, Jimin revels in the intensity of knowing that this is the just the start of their new beginning. Bangtan is plastered all over Naver and the gossip sites, and fans are tweeting like no tomorrow, wishing them congratulations.

The feeling of accomplishment is surreal. He hopes that it never grows old, that he never forgets how low they started, even with each new fulfillment. I only have you guys...

Everyone’s enjoying themselves -- Namjoon and a few of their band’s musicians chatting and comparing indie songs they’ve found, Jin and Hoseok cheesing it up in the karaoke room, Yoongi scrolling through his phone, perfectly content to relax amidst the blur of celebration, and Taehyung and Jeongguk talking with some staff, probably about tomorrow’s music show.

All is more than well for Jimin to contemplate just how unbelievable things have turned out to be when he catches sight of the way Jeongguk’s arm comes to sling around one of the girls, Chaeyeon noona. The latter’s surprised gaze makes Jeongguk laugh and he rubs her shoulder affectionately before retracting his arm. Chaeyeon looks absolutely smitten, shyly bumping their shoulders, and there’s something quiet churning in Jimin’s stomach that he doesn’t want to give another thought to.

And just like that, the evening has taken a turn. Jimin isn’t dumb, he knows Jeongguk gets along very well with the noonas -- they all dote on him and lavish compliments on the growing maknae. There’s no explicit dating ban at BigHit, and Jeongguk could very well get close to any of the lucky ladies if he wanted to.

If he wanted to.

Did Jimin want him to?

Did it even matter?

As if on cue, Jeongguk somehow teleported, now leaning into his side, nudging his shoulder. Jimin turns to meet his gaze and there’s something new Jimin has yet to encounter in the irises of their youngest. This time, Jeongguk seems both equal parts somber and buzzing altogether in a frenzy that Jimin can only chuckle at. It’s times like these when he remembers just how young Jeongguk really is, how eager and ready.

“Still can’t believe it, hyung.”

Jimin rustles his raven hair. “Probably won’t for awhile, Guk. Just gotta,” he leans back against the leather, Jeongguk following his movements, “accept it for the crazy thing it is.”

Jeongguk’s biting his lower lip and Jimin knows. He knows the boy has something to say but hasn’t developed the right grasp on words and the proper way to convey the swirls of the too many feelings he’s been taught to silence as an idol.

“What’s up, Guk?”

“Um... Nothing, hyung. Nothing.”

Jimin doesn’t push him.

Jeongguk starts, inhaling to gather his words. “It’s just... All of this. What if it all ends just as quickly? What if they forget us tomorrow?”

And there’s an unspoken truth, the sense that their success as a group is fleeting, transient, and like with any one-hit wonder, the kpop wheel just keeps churning out the newest, greatest thing as soon as it’s done.

Jimin doesn’t know how to say what he so desperately wants to say (I'll always be here? I love you? As long as we're together?), so he settles for second best. “I promise we’ll be okay.”

After Jeongguk leaves his room, Jimin can't fall back asleep.

It takes the younger a lot longer than Jimin expects before finally standing up and making his way out, head hanging low and bangs covering his eyes.

Now, as Jimin lays in bed, he waits for the comforting swaddle of his blankets to usher in sleep, but nothing comes. It’s like Osaka has unearthed something buried down deep in him, amplified in the way Jeongguk clenched his fists wordlessly earlier.

After all of this, Jimin realizes that he can’t go back. He can’t just sleep it off tonight and then return to the well-practiced facade of loving Jeongguk without hope.

Jeongguk’s heart isn’t his to pine for, to lay in wait with empty expectations and public embarrassments. When Jeongguk teases him about his height, it’s Jimin’s blinding love that allows him to laugh it off, turning it back into a compliment for their maknae, saying, “He’s so funny, our Jeonggukie is so funny.”

Jimin will always be last, rated in looks and mimicked for his small hands. Of course, Taehyung is usually the one who points out this particular flaw, using his inhumanly large hands as reference, but that’s besides the point.

He steels himself in resolution to keep building that wall. Everything will be okay.