Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jimin gripped the balcony railing with icy hands, knuckles turning white under the tension. He bites his lip as he hears another wave of arguing start, harsh comments slipping through the sliver of space between the French doors, traveling all the way to Jimin.

He has half a mind to realise that yes, I should probably be out there too, but he can’t make himself move away from the balcony, staring aimlessly at the field of grass that stretched onto a golden beach and washed into rolling waves. The trace of salt in the air actually makes him feel sick.

“What do you mean he’s fucking left?” Yoongi’s infuriated voice still rings in Jimin’s ears.

Of course he’s left.

Jimin rubbed his eyes and pushed back his hair from his eyes, weight of his body on his forearms, hunched over the rails. It’s actually embarrassing how the only thing he can think about is if he can get a refund for hiring the caterers and the venue and also about the honeymoon and all the money that went into that. It’s so embarrassing because this was supposed to have been his wedding, he was supposed to be married right now, and all he really cares about is how he’s going to sort everything out at the reception and explain to them all there is no happily wed couple arriving anytime soon.

He barely even flinches when he thinks about his ex-fiancé who’s on a flight somewhere to chase his best friend and probably the love of his life, because more or less he had said ‘nope, it’s not you Jimin, sorry babe.’

A few minutes ago Jimin had been sitting in his dressing room, pushing down nerves and practicing his rather bleak, uninspired vows when Namjoon had burst in, face red with anger and concern in his eyes, saying “that bastard has gone! Jaebum has fucking ditched!”

And Seokjin had clenched his jaw and crossed his arms and was livid in a matter of seconds, “I knew he wouldn’t go through with this! I always said there was something not right about him!”

And then they’d all looked at Jimin who just shrugged off his jacket, cold truth sinking in and he felt awful to admit he actually felt sort of relieved. “Guess I better let everyone know the wedding is off.”

All of Jimin’s friends and family immediately turned on Jaebum’s and the whole place had become a screaming match and no one noticed when Jimin just quietly slipped out of the room, feeling humiliated and insignificant. And even that isn’t because of Jaebum leaving him on the day of their wedding when he could have saved them both so much fucking trouble if he had just told Jimin the day before, or the week before, or whenever he realised he wasn’t in love with Jimin and couldn’t spend the rest of his life with him.

No, the reason why Jimin was hiding away wasn’t because he was going to have an emotional breakdown or he felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest and stepped on, or because he missed Jaebum and wanted him to come back.

The reason was something so silly and stupid and it shouldn’t even bother him, it really, really shouldn’t but it did, it still did, and maybe the reason it troubled him was the reason he didn’t care that Jaebum had left.

That reason was Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon fucking Jungkook with his devilish good looks and his charming, cunning eyes and a body that Adonis had probably blessed.

Why was he here? He wasn’t invited!

He had been the school’s famous bad boy, smelling of cologne and cigarettes, tie sloppily hanging around his neck, top buttons undone, slacks showing off his amazing form. His hair was unkempt and messy and he always looked like he had just returned from a really good lay, and no matter how many times the teachers told him off he repeatedly showed up to school with a new combination of earrings.

He was one of the few scholarship kids in the prestigious, rich school Jimin had been sent to. No one knew that though from the way he acted – they all thought his parents must be pretty fucking loaded if he managed to slip through suspensions.

However, Jimin knew better. Jeon Jungkook did not come from money, not at all. He was an athletic champion, good at any sport the school signed him into, the star player, the MVP. He was invaluable. He won against other schools in track and field, got school teams through intense competitions and sometimes carried them all the way to state finals, got them funding and attention and made their school even more renowned. That’s why his record stayed somewhat clean as long as his grades were satisfactory, and it wasn’t like Jungkook was particularly rude or violent, he just liked to push the rules and test the teachers’ patience.

Even so, Jeon Jungkook was a mess of bitterness and dark humour and blunt, hurtful words that he never apologized for. He was a foolish wreck with no direction, despising the other students for their spoilt lifestyle, ignorant of the very much privileged boy secretly in love with him.

Jeon Jungkook broke Jimin’s heart, and probably never felt sorry.

When he stepped outside in front of the audience, Jimin had thought his eyes were playing tricks on him because there was no way his high school lover from Busan was standing in this room, staring at him as Jimin softly explained to their guests that the wedding had been cancelled. He didn’t react to Jimin’s words and stood silently as everyone else gasped with shock, flung questions at Jimin then turned on each other.

Jimin bites his lip and closes his eyes as a cool wind brushes past. It feels like a second rejection, it stings almost as much as it had the first time. Oh, look, someone else doesn’t want you either. The first flitter of pain crushes against his chest and he finally wishes Jaebum hadn’t run off, but only so Jungkook could see him happy and in love and being loved and that he was fine, Jimin had turned out completely okay without him. But knowing Jungkook, he’d have seen through the pretence in a second.

“You’re so easy to read, sweetheart,” Jungkook had once said as he sucked a bruise into Jimin’s neck. He always had liked leaving marks where people could see them so they could speculate on who was defiling the school’s obedient, courteous, perfect honour student who would never be caught hanging out with rebels like Jungkook.

Jimin presses the heels of his palms into his eyes, frustration building within him.

He hasn’t seen Jungkook in just almost a year when he had glimpsed him at a cafe. Jimin had been sitting in the corner with Jaebum when the younger walked in with another guy who was Calvin Klein model attractive with tanned skin and an impossibly symmetrical face, one of those effortlessly gorgeous types, the kind who don’t even understand just how good looking they are. They grabbed their drinks and left, Jimin’s eyes watching them as they bumped shoulders and laughed, an unwelcome feeling pooling in his stomach. Jaebum had been texting a friend and barely noticed the longing look on Jimin’s face.

Before that, Jimin had met up with Jungkook just once. It was ironically his last year of university and he ran into Jungkook at a party – Jimin was drunk out of his mind and Jungkook offered to walk him back to his apartment. Jimin doesn’t remember half the things he said, but he knows he kissed Jungkook first, straddled him onto his bed, begged Jungkook to let him have him just one more time. With alcohol in his blood, Jimin gave in to the temptation that was Jeon Jungkook, and the feelings that maybe never go away for a first love. They didn’t have sex – Jungkook refused to – but they did other things until Jimin finally fell asleep and Jungkook was gone by morning.

Jimin sighs into the air.

Why is he here?

“I’m fine, hyung, please,” Jimin begs, irritation seeping into his tone and Seokjin frowns.

“How can you be fine? Your fiancé has just run out on you!” Seokjin snaps angrily and Jimin knows this is him saying ‘go out there and calm everyone down’ but Jimin just wants them to leave so he can wallow in his own disappointment.

Jimin grits his teeth and stares into the dark blue of the water. This was such a breathtaking location to get married at, and he almost feels like he had betrayed the perfect sunset and the pure blue of the waves and the birds that sang in the background. “I told him to.”

“What?” Seokjin bellows and he looks around like he wants someone else to scream at. “You told him to go chase after someone else?”

It’s not the exact truth. Jimin had looked at Jaebum last night and said firmly that if he had any doubts he shouldn’t be marrying him, and at the time Jaebum had kissed him and said that was silly. Did he really think I couldn’t see the guilt all over his face? Of course he left. It’s been a mistake from the start.

“Yes, can we drop it? I just want to be alone. Can you tell everyone to leave?” Jimin sighs as he tugs at his sleeves. “Just tell my parents I’ll call them tomorrow. Please, hyung?”

Seokjin relents and his hands fall to his sides. “Okay. But, if you need to talk –”

“I know.”

“Jimin,” Seokjin mumbles as he turns away to go back inside and sort out the chaos. “It’s okay to be upset.”

Jimin glances down at his polished shoes. “I know.”

Who can blame him if he fell into hysterical crying? But he’s not about to, and there are no tears lingering in his eyes.

Seokjin leaves and Jimin lets himself slump over again, watching a few cars drive away back to the fancy hotel they were staying in. I paid for their accommodation too, such a waste. Jimin feels bad for all their guests who took precious time off to attend his wedding, his failed wedding. He feels pathetic.

The door opens again and Jimin’s patience is already rather thin and the arguing that is still going on (seriously, what were they so fucking upset about? Jimin was the bloody abandoned groom) so he snarls quite viciously, “For God’s sake, I am not going back out there so don’t bother asking me to!”

There’s a pause, and Jimin feels a flicker of regret for his harsh tone, but then that’s suddenly the last thing on his mind when he hears the response, and who it is that’s responding.

“Wasn’t going to, sweetheart.”

Fuck.

Jimin whirls around on his heels and takes a few steps backwards, hitting the metal bars. He feels something tight and exciting simmer under his skin as he takes in the person standing in front of him, hand in his pocket with an amused smirk playing on his lips.

“What are you doing here?” Jimin hisses and wills his voice to stay steady and strong. He can’t let him know he still affects him like he did all those years ago, can’t let him see that a part of him still pines in naivety. He tells himself he needs to get over it – this marriage, this was supposed to be him getting over it.

“Ah, well, everyone’s fighting out there, and you know me. I hate conflict.” Jungkook replies casually as he leans against the wall. Jimin wants to scoff and roll his eyes, give Jungkook the deadliest withering look he can muster, but he just wants a proper answer to the damn question. Wants the small spark of hope to be smothered and dead.

“I mean, what are you doing here? At my wedding?” Jimin snaps.

“I’m a plus one,” Jungkook defends and then sort of motions around, “and it’s not really a wedding anymore.”

Fucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jimin hates the smirk on his face, he wants to punch it right off. He huffs and turns his attention back to the landscape that he can’t properly appreciate. There’s a truth to Jungkook’s comment, but of course he has to point it out. Jimin takes a deep breath, tells himself not to lose his temper because he’s not worth it. “Go away.”

“Why?”

“Get lost, Jeon, we’re not doing this again,” Jimin says firmly.

He knows what Jungkook wants – it’s what Jungkook always wants. A good, convenient fuck. And Jimin had to give himself so easily. It’s a wonder their paths crossed all those years ago when Jimin had been in his final year of high school and the biggest concern on his mind was preparing for university entrance exams. He had stayed back late at school one day to talk to a teacher and had been half asleep as he walked back home. He bumped into Jungkook’s friends – filthy rich and complete assholes, and utterly oblivious that Jungkook was not like them (rich, that is). They crowded around Jimin and jeered, Jungkook standing on the side looking bored. Though they may look it, they didn’t really pick fights so Jimin wasn’t afraid he’d get hurt, but he was undoubtedly intimidated. He was small and shy, and although his body was lithe, he wasn’t really that strong, and they all towered over him with cigarettes in their mouths and rippling with muscle.

“Aren’t you Park Jimin? The dancer?”

“Pretty one, aren’t you?”

“Aw, look, he’s so scared.”

Just as one of them went to touch Jimin’s cheek, Jungkook coldly said he was tired and walked away, and like sheep they all immediately followed.

Jimin had thought that was it, his one and only experience with the school’s bad boy and he was perfectly content with that, but then Jungkook sought him out and one day showed up at the dance studio he paid to use after school. Jimin had almost sprinted away because he did not want to associate with Jungkook, didn’t want to get on his bad side, but Jungkook saw him and it was too late.

“You owe me,” he had said cockily, eyes smouldering and Jimin had heard the rumours of even the most stubborn students falling prey to Jungkook’s seductive charm. He probably had confessions every day. Jimin used to roll his eyes and wonder what on earth made them attracted to Jungkook but now he sort of understood.

“I don’t owe you anything,” Jimin mumbled and tried to walk past but Jungkook simply matched his stride, arrogant and smug.

“Hm, I disagree,” Jungkook simply stated.

“How much do you want?” Jimin snapped, trying to guide the topic somewhere else, figuring it would just be easier to pay him off. That’s what most kids usually wanted, cash to spend on drugs and cigarettes and alcohol, away from their parents’ suspecting eyes because credit cards were all monitored.

“Not money,” Jungkook had chuckled and then stepped closer and leaned forward, and Jimin had enough time to shove him back but he didn’t, and as soon as Jungkook’s lips touched his he knew he was beyond common sense. It was Jimin’s first time, he was red and fumbling and embarrassed and surprisingly Jungkook had been kind and gentle, even asked if he should stop, save it for a better time, for with a better person.

Maybe that was an unknown trigger for the downward spiral Jimin was about to fall into. Maybe Jimin saw the slight self-deprecation in Jungkook’s eyes and wanted to make it go away. Maybe it was the fact that he had heard from others that Jungkook was a sex God and wanted to find out if that was true (not that he would know anyway because he was inexperienced). But Jimin said it was okay, and Jungkook had looked at him almost fondly and whispered “I’ll take care of you.”

He just hadn’t anticipated Jungkook to keep coming back, and it wasn’t even under the guise of paying back a favour, Jungkook just showed up and asked Jimin if he wanted to fuck and they did, on the hard floor of the dance studio.

“Not doing what again?” Jungkook asks innocently and Jimin’s had enough. This is supposed to be the best day of his life and instead he’s being ridiculed and mocked by his ex-lover. Not even a boyfriend – Jungkook never even wanted to go that far.

“Stop, Jungkook, please,” Jimin runs a hand through his hair, but at the same time mentally thanks Jungkook for his vagueness because if Jungkook asks Jimin will probably say yes. “Not today.”

Jungkook must hear the tiredness in his tone, the humiliation. He licks his lips and looks down. “You’re right. Sorry.”

He apologized.

Jimin’s mind is reeling. This is too much right now. Jungkook never takes back his words, never says anything he doesn’t mean. And Jimin wishes his heart would stop thrumming in that way it always does whenever the younger is around. Jimin bites on his back teeth and stares at Jungkook who gazes at him back, both trying to egg the other into speaking first. The silence is strangely not awkward, but it’s not comfortable, it’s just familiar.

Jimin can feel the tension between them, the unresolved conflict, the unanswered question still lingering in the space between them.

Jungkook’s hair falls to just above his eyes with a ruffled side part that brings out the sharp angles of his face. He looks mature and grown up, no more smooth lines and curves. If Jungkook had been handsome before, he was absolutely breathtaking now. If Jimin had met him at the club he would have taken the beautiful stranger home for sure. He wishes that’s what Jungkook was, wishes Jungkook hadn’t been the one to hold him so sweetly, break him so quickly. Sometimes, Jimin wonders if he had just been a conquest – he was the model student – perhaps Jungkook took a thrill in ruining him, seeing him fall apart.

It’s then that Jimin notices Jungkook’s suit. It’s expensive, pricey even for Jimin’s taste, and growing up in the way he did, Jimin can tell when a tuxedo has been tailored.

“Are you in university?” Jimin asks quietly and wonders if he’s walking on dangerous ground. Anything about life after high school had been like a taboo topic. Jungkook would always scowl and pull away, displeased.

“Finished,” Jungkook replies with ease and gives a small grin. It’s not there anymore, that cynicism that burned in his eyes whenever he had to talk about the future.

“Already?” Jimin is taken aback.

Jungkook pokes his tongue into his cheek as he nods, and there’s something akin to satisfaction shining in his eyes. It’s not a look Jimin is used to seeing, in fact, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen it before because Jungkook was also so quick to see the negative, the downside. “I finished school a year early, took extra classes and got enough credit. I’m a lawyer.”

Jimin blinks, stunned by his response. Jungkook graduated school early? Jungkook who barely liked showing up to school in general? A lawyer? Jungkook? It’s not that Jimin doesn’t believe Jungkook could have done it – Jungkook could do anything if he tried – it was that he never expected for him to choose such a path. “That’s really great, Jungkook.”

Jungkook chuckles quietly. “Thanks.” He adjusts his blazer and bites his lip quickly. “You’re a contemporary dancer, aren’t you?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jimin murmurs and for the first time he feels like an underachiever, which is silly because he likes what he does and there’s not even a hint of arrogance in Jungkook’s tone.

“I watched you dance last year,” Jungkook says and Jimin feels blood rush up to his face and his cheeks warm for no apparent reason.

“Oh,” is all that Jimin can manage, and he thinks back to the many performances he’s done and wonders if his eyes had passed over Jungkook in the large audience, wonders if Jungkook watched him intently like he used to in the studio whenever they weren’t wrapped around each other, when Jimin danced for Jungkook.

Jimin’s talked about his dreams to Jungkook before when they were lying in bed together – Jimin had started inviting Jungkook to his house, a little tired of the uncomfortable floor of the studio. It was convenient because Jimin’s parents were always away on business and his younger brother attended boarding school in America so there were no distractions.

Jungkook had been in supressed awe when first walking into Jimin’s house, staring at the antiques, the up to date technology, the newly renovated kitchen, the refurbished bathroom.

Jimin hadn’t known at the time that Jungkook was from a normal, middle-class family (truth be told, he believed the rumours that Jungkook’s family were beyond wealthy) so he had unknowingly asked, “Why are you so shocked? Isn’t your house like this?”

Jungkook gave him a harsh look Jimin only later understood. “No.”

Jungkook told him once him showing up to Jimin’s house after school, usually staying the night too, became almost routine. Jimin had his head on Jungkook’s chest and Jungkook was running his fingers over Jimin’s skin in his post-sex, lethargic haze. They had been taking turns complaining about their parents. Jimin wanted them to be around more and wished they didn’t make his younger brother attend school so far away. Jungkook hesitantly told him his parents were divorced and both had new partners that he didn’t like – said the relationship between him and his parents was all wrong now, too different. Too distant.

Jimin had lightly asked if it was true they paid the school not to give him suspensions, and Jungkook had paused before quietly replying, “I have a scholarship. The school protect me for their own sake.”

Jimin had thought Jungkook was joking, but Jungkook never joked about those sort of things. Sometimes Jimin wanted him to loosen up a bit, crack a genuine smile. But he liked it when they talked, sometimes about simple, trivial matters, sometimes topics a bit more serious.

“I want to be a dancer,” Jimin had murmured into Jungkook’s neck one weekend when the rain was pouring down outside, that clean, fresh scent wafting in through the windows, blanket slung over their hips and a forgotten, cooling mug of cocoa on the bedside table. He had been so happy that day because Jungkook was in a particularly good mood, and when they just cuddled together Jimin could almost pretend they were a real couple. “My parents say if I get into Seoul University they’ll let me. I really, really hope I get it. I have my audition soon.”

Jungkook smiled, a small quirk of the lips.

“What about you? What are you going to do after school?” Jimin asked and Jungkook’s expression shifted.

“I don’t fucking know,” he sighed. “I don’t think about that shit.”

Well, that ‘shit’ is the only thing that will get you anywhere in life, Jimin wanted to retort. He may be a rich kid, but he was raised to work for what he wanted. But he always gave in for Jungkook.

“Well you have two years to think about it,” Jimin replied and ran his hand over Jungkook’s washboard stomach, feeling the muscles jump under his touch, jotting a mental note not to breach this subject again.

It was hard though, because Jimin liked to talk and Jungkook was quiet and listened and he found himself always talking about his dancing, his school work, his upcoming audition. And then afterwards he’d feel guilty because Jungkook had no motivation, no aspirations. Jimin always felt like his dreams were too big next to Jungkook’s; it made him feel foolish. All Jungkook ever talked about was how much he hated his step-parents, how materialistic the kids at school were when Jimin was clumped in so carelessly with them. Everything was always so surface level with Jungkook – he hated talking about his feelings in any form.

But Jimin was in love with Jeon Jungkook, and no matter how many times Jungkook said something unintentionally hurtful, or avoided a question, or scoffed at something he said, Jimin still let him into his house the next day.

“You were good,” Jungkook says softly and he sits down on the balcony floor, back against the glass door.

It was quiet now, Seokjin must have finally got them to calm themselves. Jimin is pretty sure his phone probably has a hundred missed calls and unseen messages but it lays abandoned in his dressing room. Jimin’s probably going to delete them without reading any of them either way.

“Really?” Jimin chews on his lip and sits down too, but on the other side of the balcony and his back against the rails. He doesn’t know why he needs confirmation, he always practices hard and dedicates himself in getting better, but compliments from Jungkook make him delirious with delight. He can still distinctly remember Jungkook saying ‘you’re so beautiful’ as he fucked Jimin until he saw spots, but the comments he spills during sex don’t count. Its lust talking, not Jungkook.

“You were amazing,” Jungkook smiles his boyish smile, a flicker of youth in his eyes.

Jimin can’t help the warmth in his chest. “Thank you.” He glances down at his hands and fidgets, a million questions in his head, and yet none of them making it past his lips and into the chilly night air around them.

He doesn’t know why Jungkook is even out here sitting with him, being surprisingly nice. But then again, Jungkook was never that big of jerk – he was rough around the edges but inside he had a warm heart, and maybe teenage Jimin had a soft spot for bad boys and ripped jeans and piercings. The cigarette he could have done without, though, he didn’t appreciate that thick, rancid, smoky scent, nevertheless the taste. He thinks back to the time Jungkook kissed him roughly and Jimin shoved him back, face scrunched up in disgust. “Geez, could you brush your teeth after you smoke? It’s gross, and a terrible habit. You should stop before it becomes detrimental to your health.”

Jungkook had eyed him with a mixture of amusement and disbelief before trying to lean in again and being met with another push to the chest. “Seriously?” The dumbfounded expression was almost cute.

“Yes,” Jimin retorted stubbornly and Jungkook groaned and glared but when it was clear Jimin wasn’t budging he turned and left. He never smoked again before seeing Jimin, despite the smell clinging onto his clothes.

It now forces Jimin into nostalgia whenever he smells the burn of a cigarette.

“How are you?” Jungkook asks gently and he sounds concerned.

Jimin runs a hand through his hair and tilts his head back to stare up at the darkening sky. “I don’t know.”

“Did you really love him?”

Jimin swallows the sour taste in his mouth, hates how Jungkook seems to ask it so easily. “Yeah. Yeah, I loved him.”

Just like I loved you. And it’s stupid because all we really did was fuck – no dates, no hand holding, no murmuring sweet nothings into each other’s ears. I was so in love I would have done anything to make you happy, but no matter what you were always so angry at the world when I wanted to see all the good things about it. You almost dragged me right under and sometimes I wish you succeeded, because I loved you so much. I loved you even when you cursed at nothing, even when you complained about money, even when you ignored me at school only to see me later that night, even when you avoided conversation and told me I could never understand you, even when you let me walk away. I wanted you to run after me, I even waited a few minutes outside your door in case you did, I just wanted to mean something to you. I would have forgiven you in a heartbeat.

Jimin realises he answered in past tense about Jaebum, and felt nothing when he did. It’s not like it wasn’t true – he had loved Jaebum, but maybe not enough. Jaebum is kind and generous and looks after him. But it’s not right – their dynamic just doesn’t quite fit. Sometimes, Jimin wants him to be a bit more straight-forward, even if he has to be blunt, or argue back when Jimin loses his temper, or be a bit childish and let Jimin look after him instead. They don’t click the way they’re supposed to, and Jimin had known in the back of his mind this marriage was doomed from the start.

“Where has he gone?” Jungkook loosens his tie around his collar.

Jimin shrugs, the movement is weak and nonchalant. “To his real love, I guess.”

Jungkook is staring into the distance. “You don’t deserve this.”

“What do you mean?” Jimin looks at him and he feels hopeful when he knows it’s in vain.

“You’ve always deserved better,” Jungkook whispers and there’s something raw in his voice that makes Jimin’s chest ache and his heart beat faster, something sincere and sweet.

Jimin’s only ever heard Jungkook use that tone once before. Jungkook was sitting on his bed in his boxers, hair damp from his shower and Jimin was in his white t-shirt, slipping away from Jungkook’s hands and giggling, saying he wanted to keep his shirt. Then he heard the front door open and the familiar voices of his parents.

“I thought you said they were away,” Jungkook hissed, voice low.

“They’re not meant to be back yet,” Jimin clutched his hair in panic and told Jungkook to stay on his bed as he rushed downstairs. “Mom? Dad?”

They both looked up at him with bright smiles, a jovial “Surprise!” greeting him, and then slowly faltering as they looked at his attire. There was no way Jimin owned a t-shirt two or three sizes too big.

“Jimin? Is someone else here?” His mom asked curiously and glanced at the shoe rack. Thank God Jungkook had kicked his boots off in Jimin’s room.

It wasn’t like Jimin’s parents didn’t know he was gay. Jimin had come out to them a few years ago and though neither were angry of repulsed, they were both naturally a bit shocked and confused, but they eventually accepted him, saying that as long as he was happy, they would accept anything. Jungkook could assume whatever he wanted about wealthy people, that money corrupted them and made them greedy, but Jimin’s parents were good to the core.

“Son, do you have a boyfriend?” his father added, voice slipping into that protective tone.

“N-no, he’s not a boyfriend, he’s just a – a friend… l-look could you just go into your bedroom and come out in five minutes?” Jimin begged and began pushing them towards the stairs, making sure they didn’t go in the direction of his room. “Please?”

“But I want to meet him,” his mother complained.

“No! No, please, no,” Jimin shook his head. There was no way Jungkook would want to meet his parents. They weren’t even a couple. They were fuck buddies. Fuck buddies did not merit an awkward ‘meet the parents.’

His father frowned. “But Jimin –”

“Please,” Jimin stressed and they both relented.

Then he rushed back to his room. Jungkook was already dressed, jumper zipped up to hide his lack of shirt. “Don’t worry about the t-shirt,” he muttered as Jimin went to take it off. “Give it back to me later.”

Jimin walked him out the door – he always did, it was polite to and his parents always told him he had to see guests out – and Jungkook would usually just step right out without sparing a backwards glance, maybe a ‘bye’ or ‘see you’ if Jimin was lucky. But today he stopped and looked at him with an unfamiliar intensity – scrutinizing, and maybe a bit tender, though Jimin could have imagined that.

“I’ll see you at school?” Jimin asked despite knowing Jungkook barely glanced at him if they passed in the hall at school. Once he had brushed his hand against Jimin’s back, but Jimin was sure that had been accidental.

“Okay,” Jungkook replied in the warmest voice Jimin had ever heard him use, and then cupped the back of Jimin’s head and kissed him, long and thorough. He brought Jimin’s body closer to his, held him in a way that was gentle and intimate, no intention for anything more, anything desperate, just contented. Jimin’s mind was spinning when they parted, face warm and body tingling. It felt like a goodbye kiss – the type that couples do – a promise of ‘I’ll miss you’ and a reluctant parting. Jungkook smiled for a second, he was cute when he smiled, before walking away.

Jimin brought his fingers to his lips and stared at his front door for a good minute.

He thought maybe Jungkook liked him back, liked him a bit more than just a convenient lay, but their relationship didn’t progress, if anything, it declined. Jungkook became detached again, stopped staying after to talk, would wordlessly throw his clothes on and leave. Jimin tried to get him to open up but a stubborn Jungkook was an impossible Jungkook.

Jimin’s grades dropped, his dance practices felt like a chore, and his parents became increasingly worried when he started zoning out and staying locked up his room.

Somehow, Jimin’s mom found out Jungkook’s identity and sat him down one day, the day before he flew to Seoul for his audition. “Jimin, honey, you know I love you. I only ever want the best for you, but this boy you’re seeing, this boy is no good.”

“Mom, you don’t understand,” Jimin snapped back but tears were already in his eyes because he was so frustrated, and he didn’t even understand Jungkook either. He asked what was wrong but Jungkook said it was nothing – it was the first time Jungkook had directly lied to him.

“Darling, whatever you see in him I’m not going to tell you you’re mistaken,” she began softly but her tone was firm. “I know who he is, I heard what he’s like at school, I believe he’s probably a good person underneath. But being with him, whatever the type of relationship you have, it’s not working. You’re unfocused, you’re upset all the time, you come back from the dance studio crying, as your mother I am not going to let you rip yourself apart.”

Jimin covered his face with his hands. She was right, she always had a way of being right.

“You don’t owe anyone anything, your happiness is not dependent on his. You have your whole life ahead of you, you should be excited and out with your friends having fun. You owe that to yourself.” She put a hand on his shoulder and soothed him, the way that mothers always can. “I’m so proud of you Jimin, but you don’t need someone holding you back. Let him go Jimin, if he wants you, he’ll fight for you.”

And the next day Jimin walked into his audition with a broken heart. He thought of Jungkook striding in, lips on his, husky voice in his ear. He thought of Jungkook’s fingertips drawing circles on his hip, his innocent face when he slept, the childish laugh he possessed. He thought of Jungkook kissing him goodbye, letting him wear his t-shirts, adjusting the blanket over Jimin’s bare skin. He thought of Jungkook’s cold voice, even colder glances, and just yesterday, the way he barely flinched when Jimin said their ‘no strings attached’ agreement was over. He thought of how Jungkook remained impassive when Jimin said he loved him, how he stayed silent when he asked if he felt anything back, how he didn’t go after Jimin when he cried and walked away.

The pain was crippling, new and fresh, and when he bowed and introduced himself to the examiners he wondered if they could tell this was someone who was barely keeping himself together.

When the music started it sounded different, sounded louder, like it wanted to swallow Jimin up. And the room was big and the empty space made him feel small. But when Jimin began to dance it was almost like he was the conductor – he made the music follow the movement of his body, the beat of his heart – and despite the large stage he made his presence known, let the pain take up every inch of the room and become a welcome part of him, and he used it to dance with a different sort of emotion.

Jimin danced for himself that day, for the Jimin who was in love with Jungkook, and for the Jimin who had let him go.

“You didn’t deserve me, is that what you’re saying?” Jimin doesn’t break eye contact when Jungkook glances swiftly at him.

He can see the self-deprecation on Jungkook’s face return and he reminds Jimin of the person behind the confidence and the cockiness – just a sad, angry boy who felt the world had mistreated him, but Jungkook was the one with the victim card, and no one was playing against him. Jimin used to hate it when Jungkook looked so vulnerable, would do anything to make it go away, and would throw himself under the bus if he had to, but not this time. Jungkook never asked to be saved, no matter how much Jimin wanted to.

“I never deserved you,” Jungkook chuckles quietly; it’s regretful. “You were too good. I wanted it all to myself. I would have suffocated you.”

Jimin scoffs and wants to roll his eyes. “Don’t say that. Don’t act like you were being a hero and trying to save me, Jungkook, like you did me a mercy. You left me broken.” He hates how his voice still cracks when he talks about how hurt he had felt.

“I know.” Jungkook winces and looks down and Jimin realises he’s holding something in his hand, hidden in his pocket. “I just couldn’t let myself have you.”

Yes, you could have. I loved you.

And sometimes, I think I still do.

Chapter Text

Jungkook hates all the kids at school.

He doesn’t know what he was thinking when he accepted the scholarship into such a ridiculously prestigious high school. It’ll look good when you apply to universities, his brother, Junghyun, had said as he ruffled his hair, proud smile on his face.

Right, his brother had wanted him to go, so Jungkook did.

Junghyun was probably the most important person in his life at that point because both his parents had remarried and their new partners had children from previous marriages so now Jungkook had another mom, another dad, and a handful of brothers and sisters around his age that he had no desire to associate with. It’s not that they’re bad (not all of them, anyway), but Jungkook is an introvert, he likes his privacy, he likes family and they are most certainly not family. He hates how it all seems like some big competition on whose kid is better despite them being siblings – yeah right. Jungkook is fine with just his older brother, thanks.

Unfortunately, the year he began high school was the year Junghyun left to Seoul for university.

Jungkook felt abandoned and alone, and even if his parents loved him they seemed so interested in their new spouse that he felt ignored and irrelevant.

Maybe that’s why he started acting out – the classic cry for attention. Or maybe it’s to watch his mother sigh disapprovingly and father pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration every time he gets a new piercing or upsets a teacher, because up until that point they had loved to brag about Jungkook, perfect, good-at-everything Jungkook, but now some childish part of him doesn’t want them to be able to – doesn’t want them to be proud in their parenting skills because he feels they’re failing him so badly now. Maybe it’s because he realises from day one of high school that if you don’t have money, you’re no one, even if you are some amazing scholarship student topping subjects and basically better than any spoilt child there, and now he just couldn’t be bothered trying.

Jungkook doesn’t really know how he gets piled into the ‘rebel’ bunch of the school. Probably because of the detentions. One day he just becomes one of them and starts tagging along when they go out to smoke or get cheap takeaway. They’re filthy rich and loaded, go around buying a bunch of unnecessary shit, but they’re actually not half-bad. Most of them are like him – a little misguided, desperate for attention, fed up with their parents, tired of the high expectations thrust upon them. Jungkook still remembers the first time he lit a cigarette, placed it between his lips and drew in. It burned his lungs and he felt the itch to cough but then the more he got used to it, the better he felt. He wouldn’t say he’s addicted to it, but sometimes when the awkward, tense family dinners are too much or his mom comes in screaming at him again for skipping school, he needs that burn to numb the emptiness he feels. Besides, he sort of likes the group he hangs with, he can cuss as much as he wants and eventually they started to see him as some kind of leader – it’s easy to feel superior when they treat him like that, especially when he feels that deep inside he’s nothing.

Yugyeom is probably the only one he can call an actual friend. They do a few sports together, share a few classes. Yugyeom’s a pretty average student, wealthy of course as is the norm, but he’s sharp-witted and funny and doesn’t go around nosing his way into people’s business, so Jungkook appreciates that. They only talk during practice, or sometimes in class if they sit together, but otherwise they don’t interact. Yugyeom’s asked him to come sit with him and his friends but Jungkook hasn’t accepted the invitation yet. He’s not sure why, maybe he wants to be that rebellious student a little longer.

He knows his reputation. Girls fawn over him and boys want to be him. Jungkook can’t help the slight satisfaction he gets because they have no fucking idea I’m here because of the school’s money. Nevertheless, he takes the praises and affection any way he can get it. He likes feeling like he’s on top, likes thinking they’re below him. It extends outside school too – when they walk past other students he feels better because he goes to the most renowned school in Busan and everyone knows it.

But when he gets home the façade is over, but he’s not free, another one just begins.

“You’re out of control, Jungkook,” his father had snapped after they had another argument about his uniform, the school calling home to complain about the less than inconspicuous accessories decorating his ears or his changing hair colours.

Jungkook just grits his teeth and walks out, side-stepping his step-mom who not so secretly despises him (Jungkook’s mom hates her too, and she hates his mom back, and because of that their husbands hate each other, and Jungkook is fed up with all of them and holy fuck his family was just one big screwed up mess). He winds up in some guy’s arms and the bed is uncomfortable because he has way too many pillows but hey, at least it’s not his own house so Jungkook can’t complain. He has quite a few fuckbuddies on rotation that let him stay over the night. Jungkook loves being away from home. He feels like a stranger in his own room.

A couple months in he’s relatively settled into his new identity. Jungkook is comfortable, or as content as he can be.

That is, until he made the mistake of sleeping with Park Jimin.

Everyone knows Park Jimin. Perfect attendance, flawless grades, impeccable attitude – the teachers adore him. He’s topped the performing arts every year since enrolment and he’s an honour student.

And he’s so fucking happy all the goddamn time.

Jungkook sees him smiling as he clutches his books to his chest, chatting animatedly to his friends, greeting teachers on the way to class, stopping in his tracks to help a peer pick up a fallen textbook or bag. He has an annoyingly cheerful high-pitched voice and an equally irritating giggle and when he laughs his knees buckle and he falls to the ground or flings himself against the nearest wall or person and laughs with his whole body.

Jungkook hates practically all the kids at school, but he thinks he dislikes Park Jimin the most.

Park Jimin has everything Jungkook doesn’t – a loving family, money, a zealous passion for something, an almost naïve optimism. Maybe he’s one of those shielded, protected, treasured sons that don’t understand how cruel reality is.

And Jungkook wants to be selfish and share in it, maybe steal some of his happiness away for himself, or find out what exactly it is about Jimin’s life that’s so spectacular that he walks around with the stupidest smile on his face.

After Jimin bumps into his group of friends one afternoon he finds his opportunity, a reason to seek him out – it’s a ludicrous excuse but that’s all Jungkook needs, really, Jimin probably doesn’t think that much of him so it won’t be suspicious (he wonders when his opinion of himself got so low). Jungkook knows Jimin practises at a dance studio nearby the school so he waits there for him one day. Honestly, he hadn’t expected Jimin to say yes, didn’t think he’d actually end up lying on the floor next to him, panting with his pants unzipped and down his thighs.

He looks at Jimin who has one arm thrown across his face, cheeks red and hair mussed. He’s so different from the neat, prim, proper image he presents at school. Something dark and feral builds in Jungkook.

“Well, thanks for that,” Jungkook mumbles as he fixes his clothes and runs his hands through his bangs. Jimin sits up and begins to dress himself, staring at the floor. Jungkook turns around and walks out.

It’s like a dirty secret whenever he sees Jimin at school after that.

Jimin still always looks so perfect and Jungkook can’t resist meeting up with him again and again, watch the honour student fall apart in his hands, be reduced to a litany of his pleas and desperate cries, clutch onto him like he could never let go.

Jungkook breaks off contact with his other fuckbuddies a few weeks later – it’s just Jimin he goes to now. It’s not even that the sex is mind-blowing or anything, not to say it wasn’t great, but Jungkook could easily have had better with another. The reason he unconsciously commits to Jimin is because of convenience. Jimin’s parents are often travelling for months, his brother is in America, so Jimin has the house to himself practically all the time so Jungkook doesn’t have to worry about sneaking in through windows or creeping out early in the morning. Jimin also has to cook for himself and Jungkook despises his family dinners with a passion, so he’d rather eat with the school honour student instead. Jungkook has sports practice after school and Jimin goes to the studio, and then they just meet up at Jimin’s place afterwards – it became a daily routine.

Jungkook loves it.

Sometimes, they don’t even fuck and Jimin still lets him stay over the night, has never even once asked Jungkook to leave. Jungkook finds himself opening up – just a little – to Jimin, maybe he feels like he owes him, or maybe because Jimin is kind and understanding.

He likes listening to Jimin talk about his aspirations, notes the way his eyes light up and his hands move with his words. He’s brimming with hopes and dreams and Jungkook occasionally feels a pang of bitterness because Jimin’s never been let down before, never felt like someone he loved had betrayed him. That’s why Jimin could never understand someone like Jungkook, he could only sympathise, but he’d never really know.

Of course, Jungkook is aware of Jimin’s feelings for him. It’s obvious. Jimin’s too sweet to him, touches a little too genuine, and his eyes are sincere – eyes that could never lie.

At first, Jungkook doesn’t know what to make of them. But we’re only fuckbuddies, what could he possibly see in me? He wants to reject it, but Jimin never confesses, never crosses the boundaries, and over time the feeling of aversion becomes something… affectionate. He likes Jimin because he is useful, because he doesn’t ask Jungkook questions that make him uncomfortable, doesn’t expect things from him, and doesn’t disapprove of his bad attitude. But then again, he also likes Jimin because he is kind, because he didn’t turn away in disgust when Jungkook admitted he was on a scholarship, because he never makes Jungkook feel like he’s nothing – and when that’s what Jungkook thinks of himself that was some sort of feat.

Liking Jimin is safe. Jungkook wouldn’t get hurt.

But they weren’t good enough reasons to be with someone. Not the right reasons.

Everything about Jimin is what Jungkook is lacking in his own life – it would be an unhealthy dependency. I’d ruin Jimin if I let him love me.

It doesn’t mean Jungkook doesn’t get a little moody when he glimpses Jimin at school, beaming at someone else the way he smiles at Jungkook. It doesn’t mean he sometimes wants to wind an arm around Jimin’s waist and pull him close. It doesn’t mean he isn’t left feeling cold when Jimin freaks out when his parents come home early.

Jimin stands in the doorway, nervous smile on his pretty lips, pink from being pressed against Jungkook’s. The t-shirt is way too big on his small frame but Jungkook likes it, wants to scoop him up in his arms, hear his giggle echo across the room. That stupid, ridiculous, annoying, addicting, perfect giggle of his. From behind Jimin, his mother has crept out into the hall and is watching with curious eyes. Jungkook doesn’t know why he does it, but he does. He kisses Jimin like he hates parting from him, like he’s going to miss him, like he doesn’t mind Jimin’s awkward quirkiness, like he doesn’t get annoyed when Jimin tells him to stop smoking, like he’s the best part of Jungkook’s life. He kisses Jimin because it’s all true.

It’s the first time Jungkook’s done anything so spontaneous without the intention of getting Jimin into bed with him.

Jimin is flustered and blushing when he leaves, but he’s happy. And that’s another reason why they can’t be together, Jimin is not really happy with him. He’s trying to please Jungkook the whole time, uncaring of his own happiness. Jungkook has nothing to offer in return, an immature, childish part of him doesn’t want to, an even more imprudent part of him thinks Jimin has everything he could possibly want – why did Jungkook have to give him something? He just wants to receive Jimin’s affections and all the benefits that come with him. What sort of relationship would that be?

Jimin’s mother catches his eye and gives him a small smile. She must think they were actually a couple.

But Jungkook can’t. He can’t be with Jimin, at least not right now. Not when he’s so fucked up. He doesn’t want to be with Jimin, he likes the idea of being with him.

So he dials it all back – sex is just sex, no dinners, no staying over. No mapping out Jimin’s body with his lips, no trailing his fingers across his skin, no stopping to appreciate what he momentarily has. It’s fast, rough, detached fucking in the studio, the way it was always supposed to be.

He’s not heartbroken when Jimin ends everything between them. He doesn’t feel like he’s lost something he never knew he had, because Jungkook knew; he’s glad Jimin finally says ‘it’s over’ because Jungkook couldn’t do it himself – he’s selfish, after all. Rather, it all feels more like a punch in the gut, and he almost wants to laugh in relief because he deserves it.

“I’m in love with you, Jungkook, and that’s why I can’t keep doing this,” Jimin whispers, voice all breathy and thick and cracking on each syllable. His teeth gnaw at his bottom lip and his eyes are darting everywhere except on the person in front of him. “Do you… feel anything for me?”

Jungkook’s mouth is dry. Jimin is hopeful, but he doesn’t need it. He doesn’t need hope when Jungkook doesn’t even know if he has the determination in him to fix himself up.

“Anything?” Jimin presses and tears are forming in his eyes and in his shaking voice he sounds furious with Jungkook’s silence.

Jungkook can’t answer. He doesn’t want to lie, but he won’t admit the truth. Not like this.

Jimin barely holds back a sob when he walks away. Jungkook’s always regretted the fact he glanced over his shoulder to watch him go.

And that question remains between them, unaffected by time, still as fresh as the tears Jimin cried in front of him for the first time.

Do you feel anything for me?

Jimin gets accepted into Seoul University, of course he does. He moves without a word. Jungkook sort of wishes he’d texted to wish him luck. Jimin’s departure leaves a simmering, hot feeling in his stomach. A familiar feeling. It reminds him of Jungkook before his brother moved away, before he entered high school. Something like determination, or will, or a reminder to keep going.

He takes his earrings out, starts going back home.

He sits with Yugyeom and his rowdy but dedicated friends, properly attends class, takes time to study.

His parents think his phase is finally over, but Jungkook’s only doing it for Jimin. Maybe Jimin’s passion for dancing inspired him, or maybe he realised his life wasn’t all that bad, but definitely so he could see Jimin again and give him a proper answer, so Jimin could rely on him this time, and Jungkook didn’t need Jimin’s presence to feel content with himself.

Law is not really what he expected himself to go into, but it sort of creeps up on him overtime. He likes the thought of helping other people, and especially if he can lend a hand to struggling families and go up against big companies that exploited their employees. Maybe a part of him also wants to become something he can really say with pride, he feels like he has something to prove even though Jimin never expected anything like that from him – not out of scepticism, out of acceptance. Jimin accepted Jungkook – reckless, misguided, lazy – but Jungkook couldn’t let Jimin accept him like that.

He moves into his apartment with his older brother and he’s ecstatic to be with Junghyun again.

“Ah, the prodigal second son,” Junghyun grins as he ruffles Jungkook’s once again black hair. “I always knew you were destined for greater things than getting high and drunk.”

“I never did drugs,” Jungkook rolls his eyes as he drags his suitcase to the spare bedroom. In the hall he comes face to face with a girl in a plaid shirt and jeans. “Uh…”

“Oh babe, this is my baby brother,” Junghyun laughs.

Junghyun’s girlfriend excitedly introduces herself – she’s outgoing but not overly so, non-stop beaming and remarking on their resemblance and differences.

She reminds Jungkook of Jimin.

But everything reminds Jungkook of Jimin.

He’s finally in Seoul, but it's not like Jungkook can immediately find Jimin and spill out belated words.

They don’t go to the same university and Jungkook doesn’t share any mutual friends. He can find him on social media, he still has his old mobile number, but he doesn’t know how to suddenly strike up a conversation. His first year of law is undeniably difficult and busy – he hasn’t got time to pine over an old lover anyway – but in his second year their passes cross. He goes to a party at someone’s house, dragged from his studies by a guy two years older named Taehyung who apparently knew everyone who was anyone, and saw Jimin for the first time in over a year.

Jimin is sitting on a chair, surrounded by a bunch of friends, Jungkook assumes, and he can tell from the way he sways and his slow reactions that he’s tipsy. He’s never seen Jimin drunk before.

“You know Park Jimin?” Taehyung asks, holding a drink in one hand, phone in the other.

“Sort of,” Jungkook mutters, never mind the way his stomach clenches. “We went to the same school.”

“Ah,” Taehyung replies.

“Do you know him?”

“Eh, not really. Heard of him from a friend of mine who also came from Daegu, but otherwise no.”

Jungkook tries hard not to be so aware of Jimin’s presence but it’s hard when his blood is thrumming in his veins to show his face and tell Jimin how much he’s changed. I finished school early. I’m a law student. I’m in Seoul for you. He’s got his answer ready too.

He’s not quite sure when he realised he was in love with Park Jimin – sometime after he graduated and left perhaps, or maybe it crept up on him over time. Or maybe that day Jimin insisted they stay up and watch the sunrise together. Jimin fell asleep too quickly and Jungkook was exhausted but for some reason he stayed up until the sun began to rise and pastel colours streaked across the sky – twenty-four hours with no sleep – and when he tried to wake Jimin up he glanced at it for maybe three seconds, murmured “pretty” before falling back asleep. Jungkook should have been pissed, should have complained the second Jimin woke up, but he didn’t care. He would have done it again.

Jungkook knows Jimin could never understand him. But maybe the fact that he tried, the fact that he wanted to, was enough. Before Jungkook wanted to take advantage of all the good things in Jimin’s life, but now he just desperately wanted to be one of them.

But when Jimin spots him and his eyes go wide and cheeks flush and he looks incredibly confused, Jungkook thinks it’ll be pointless telling him everything now. Jimin stumbles over to him and Jungkook can’t pull away when he’s suddenly all over him, breath reeking of alcohol but touches scorching.

“Kookie… is that you?” he slurs and then giggles.

“Hyung,” Jungkook mumbles in response.

“What are you doing here?” Jimin laughs as he shifts all his weight onto Jungkook who hastily holds him up. “You’re so hot – and even taller, and so muscly… Kookie, why didn’t you love me? What didn’t you like about me? Am I too shy? Too short? Too whiny? I can change all that – maybe not height because I’ve stopped growing but –”

“Jimin hyung,” Jungkook sighs and cuts him off to make him stop talking. “Where do you live?”

Jimin goes red but drunkenly says his address and Jungkook has to search it up but he manages to get Jimin home. He only wants to help Jimin take off his shoes and make sure he finds his way to the bed, but he didn’t anticipate being shoved onto the mattress, head hitting the pillows.

“What are you doing?” he gasps, cheeks tinting.

Jimin hovers over him, giggling. “It’s been so long, Jungkook-ah. Can we, please? Please, please, please, please?”

Jungkook gulps as Jimin grinds down on him, hips moving sinfully. “Hyung, we shouldn’t…”

“But I’ve missed you so much,” Jimin pleads and his clumsy fingers are already trying to unbutton his shirt. “Please, just one more time? I’m the only one getting hurt anyway –”

“Hyung – stop – wait,” Jungkook tries to take Jimin’s wrists but he wriggles away with a pout.

“Don’t call me hyung. You never called me hyung before.”

Jungkook exhales deeply. “Jimin, you’re drunk.”

“So?”

Jungkook tries to find that cocky arrogance he had a year ago. “Come on, I’m not that low.”

Jimin juts his bottom lip out and circles his hips and presses his ass against Jungkook’s slowly forming bulge. “Don’t you want me anymore? Not even like this?”

Goddamn it. Jungkook pulls himself up with his abdominal muscles and encircles an arm around Jimin’s waist. He’s put on a bit of weight and Jungkook likes it, he’d always thought Jimin fussed about his body too much in school. “I’ll always want you,” Jungkook murmurs into his neck and can’t help himself when his teeth drag across the unblemished skin, feeling Jimin arch under his palms. Jimin’s always been so sensitive.

I shouldn’t, we shouldn’t he thinks as he unzips Jimin’s jeans and tugs it down, just enough for his cock to spring out, red with arousal and curving up to his stomach. Jungkook swallows and wraps his fingers around it, muscles remembering the way Jimin liked it.

Jimin clutches onto his biceps and smashes their lips together, all tongue and teeth. Then he pulls away to whine and moan, eyes fluttering close and body pliant in Jungkook’s hands. When Jimin gives himself up, he gives himself up completely. His head drops forward onto Jungkook’s shoulder and his nails leave temporary crescent shaped imprints in Jungkook’s skin. “Ah – J-Jungkook, feels… s-so good...”

Jungkook is the one trying to stay within the boundaries and yet he finds himself roaming up Jimin’s stomach, feeling the muscles of a dancer’s body, fingers brushing against a nipple which has Jimin mewling into his ear. Jimin’s not a screamer, not usually, but the sounds he makes a sinful. They’re genuine, none are ever exaggerated or overdone. Jimin is always honest, and always has been with Jungkook.

Jimin is moving in time with his hand, thrusting into his touch, body starting to tremble and jerk, desperate for Jungkook.

“I-I – Oh – I’m so c-close,” he moans and Jungkook can’t hold back his own because Jimin’s been grinding across his crotch and the friction is driving him insane.

“You can come whenever you want, sweetheart,” Jungkook groans, palm slicked with Jimin’s pre-cum, the lovers term falling unintentionally from his lips. He doesn’t mean to have said it, but Jimin suddenly shudders and then his body goes rigid for a split second before he’s coming undone, ropes of white shooting into Jungkook’s hands, splattering across his t-shirt and jeans. It’s dirty and quick and not unlike their first few times. And last few times.

“Mm, you’re so good to me like this,” Jimin mumbles as his lips find Jungkook’s neck and begin sucking a bruise there.

Jungkook can’t pull him away – he likes when Jimin marks him, something he doesn’t do often. He tugs Jimin’s cock again and he whines, still sensitive.

“You didn’t… come…” Jimin whispers and maybe the orgasm made him a little sober because he doesn’t sound as confident anymore.

“I’m okay, I’ll – Jimin –”

Jimin pushes Jungkook back and for the second time that day he falls back on the bed, surprised by his boldness. It doesn’t take long to figure out what Jimin plans to do when he clumsily pulls down Jungkook’s pants and licked his lips.

Jungkook never planned for their reunion after a year to be like this. He wanted Jimin to see him all grown-up and mature, no longer the sour teenager he had been before. But Jimin hasn’t even asked him why he’s in Seoul. It’s not how Jungkook expected it to be at all.

But then Jimin’s mouth is on him and he can’t really think about such things when he needs to grip onto the bed sheets and his toes are curling in pleasure.

He leaves the morning after because he’s lost the courage to face Jimin. And he doesn’t want it to be like this. He still has things to prove, but to himself or to Jimin, he’s not quite sure.

Either way, Jungkook will do it one day.

Just not today.

 ---

“Don’t say that. Don’t act like you were being a hero and trying to save me, Jungkook, like you did me a mercy. You left me broken.”

“I know.” Jungkook’s aware of what he did, what he let happen, but he doesn’t know how to explain his reasons to Jimin. “I just couldn’t let myself have you.”

Jimin shakes his head and glances away, and the light from inside the building highlights the anger and hurt in his expression. Jungkook grips onto the small box in his palm harder.

Namjoon, a few years older and somewhat like a mentor for Jungkook, was part of a small but growing firm and hired Jungkook fresh out of university, saying he saw potential. Jungkook was going to confess to Jimin earlier this year after he won his first case. He felt like he was enough now, that he had left his past juvenile, thoughtless, selfish side completely behind. He was ready to go chasing after Park Jimin, the beautiful contemporary dancer from Busan. Jungkook went to all his performances whenever he had the money and he felt pride swell in his chest when he saw him. He had no reason to feel that way because Jimin got to that stage himself, with definitely no thanks to Jungkook, but he was so happy for Jimin he couldn’t help himself. Jimin didn’t just dance, he soared and rose and crumbled with the music. The movements were entirely his, heart on his sleeve, unguarded.

The day before he had decided to go approach Jimin after their night together two years ago was the day Yugyeom introduced Jungkook to his new friends. One was called Jaebum and he was tall with dark hair and friendly, warm eyes. Jungkook didn’t mind him – there was something kind and assuring about him. But his interest is piqued when Bambam and Yugyeom team up and begin teasing Jaebum about the horrors of married life.

“You’re married?” Jungkook gawked. He didn’t expect that.

“Nah, engaged,” Jaebum laughed as he slung an arm around Jinyoung who rested into the crook of his neck.

“Oh, you two are together?” Jungkook pointed a finger between them and he really wasn’t that surprised because they seemed extremely close and affectionate.

Jinyoung threw his head back and laughed, cringing. “No, no, like I’d date this idiot.”

Jaebum shoved his shoulder and then tapped on his phone screen, pulling up a picture. “Trust me, my baby is way better looking.”

Jungkook swore he almost ripped the phone away when he saw the face of the boy he had been pining over for the last few years smiling into the camera, hand entwined with Jaebum’s. He looked happy – happier than he ever looked with Jungkook.

He’s getting married.

Honestly, Jungkook was coping without Jimin – he loved his friendship with Yugyeom and Taehyung, greatly admired and respected Namjoon, was fulfilled helping his clients, actually smiled to strangers on the train, could manage an apology without feeling like he was being wronged.

But he missed Jimin.

Jungkook didn’t want him just to benefit himself, he simply wanted to make Jimin happy because he loved him. It wasn’t out of guilt, or obligation. He just wanted to – and he wondered if this was how much Jimin had loved Jungkook back then – so much he didn’t desire anything in return. Loving Jimin felt like a privilege.

“Oh” is all Jungkook could muster. He glanced at Yugyeom who was sipping from a juice box. He never knew about their relationship.

“I introduced them.” Yugyeom said proudly. “We met through dance and he was always top of our school – oh, wait, you went to the same school – you remember him, Jeon?”

Jungkook nodded as nonchalantly as possible. “Yeah.”

“He’s perfect.” Jaebum sighed and looked like a man in love.

Jimin deserved someone who would offer him the world, and then some. He couldn’t go barging into Jimin’s life again and mess it all up when everything was falling into place. Not again. He broke Jimin once, he’d never do it a second time.

“What are you doing here?” Jimin says again, quieter. He doesn’t seem to really want an answer because he’s staring into his palms, perhaps on his left fourth finger, still bare. "Are you here to gloat? T-to show me how great you turned out? To see how shit my life is?"

Jungkook shakes his head quickly. "No. I would never do that."

I wanted you to be happy. I really did.

Jimin clenches his jaw and looks away.

Jungkook chews on his lips. It’s funny how behind a desk or arguing a case he feels in control and powerful, so grown up and accomplished, but with Jimin he feels like that freshman again. Weak, and deep down, scared.

“Whose plus one were you, by the way?” Jimin adds quietly.

Jimin is different from how Jungkook remembers. He’s a little more defensive, and his words are harsher and bite back. Jungkook knows that tone, knows that transition. Yet, it’s still there – Jimin’s radiating positivity, blind optimism, childish naivety – its aged, changed, but it’s still there. So wholly Jimin.

“Yugyeom.” Jungkook replies.

“Ah,” Jimin says flatly. “I always wondered if you two knew each other, both having been in the same grade and all…” he looks out into the crashing waves, guided by the crescent moon.

“Hmm.”

It’s not quite the whole truth. Yes, he came with Yugyeom, but he’s not quite his plus one.

Jungkook had no intention of approaching Jimin before he married. He tried to push it to the furthest corner of his mind, and pretend it didn’t bother him. That was hard when he found out Namjoon was friends with Jimin, and Yugyeom was close with Jaebum, and people he worked with knew the Parks. How did I surround myself with Jimin’s friends?

Fate, he would have thought before.

Punishment, now.

He had been reading over client files in his office when the firm secretary said someone was there for Jungkook. He told her to let whoever it was through.

The woman who walked in was the last person he ever expected to see.

“Jeon Jungkook,” she gave a polite smile and bowed, “do you recognise me? It has been a few years.”

Jungkook’s hands had become clammy. Yes, he remembered her. He remembered her curious stare from when he peeked over Jimin’s shoulder, lips tingling with the urge to kiss him. “Yes, Mrs Park.”

She beamed. It was actually kind. It was just like Jimin’s. “May I sit?”

“O-Of course, how can I help you?” Jungkook stammered and brushed the files to the side, knee shaking with nerves under the desk. Did something happen to Jimin? Was she here to ruin his career?

“I don’t know if you know, but my son is getting married,” she began slowly. Jungkook didn’t need the reminder.

“I am aware, yes.”

“He won’t go through with it,” she sighed, eyes downcast. “Or if he does, he won’t be happy.”

What? What happened? Jaebum loves him, doesn’t he?

Jungkook swallowed. “I don’t understand…”

“He needs closure, Jungkook,” she said firmly, but her eyes were pleading. “He’s still holding on to this – to you – a ‘what if.’ You’re his first love, that’s always going to mean something to him. He can’t get over you when he still feels like there’s a chance.”

Jungkook looked down.

Do you feel anything for me?

“I admire you, Jungkook, I really do. I kept tabs on you and I liked how you became quite a nice young man,” she smiled and Jungkook felt some weird fuzzy feeling at her praise, “and I think you understand why I’m asking you to do this. You don’t have to love him, but I think you owe it to him.”

She doesn’t realise what she’s asking of me. “What if…” he licked his lips and almost wanted to shrink away from her gaze. He’d have hated been talked to like this by someone so wealthy a few years ago, but all he saw now was a mother caring for her son, and a part of him wanted to impress her, have her like him. Because, what if… “What if the answer I give to Jimin is not what you want to hear?”

She stood up, leaving a silver envelope on his desk. An invitation. Jungkook can tell. “I just want you to tell him the truth. I can only accept that.”

She bowed once more before she headed for the door. Then she turned around and it was like she knew of the two silver bands in Jungkook’s desk drawer, that he bought after saving up from his part-time job and then with the boost from his first pay check as a lawyer.

“And I would accept you.”

Jungkook eyes Jimin as he shivers, wrapping his arms around himself, pulling his knees just a little closer. He isn’t wearing his jacket and the thin dress shirt was doing little to shield him from the chill.

Jungkook can tell Jimin’s exhausted, the stress of the day crashing onto him. His fingers slide across the velvet box. He doesn’t know why he bought the rings when he didn’t even know if Jimin would still take him back. He just had an urge one day. So he bought it.

When he arrived at the venue today he couldn't believe he was actually here. He promised himself he'd be patient and respectful - if Jimin and Jaebum married he'd back off and leave, no matter what Jimin's mother said. He couldn't do it to Jimin again. But if... if they didn't... Jungkook would allow himself to try, allow himself to hope. He became antsy when the starting time of the ceremony was pushed back over and over, until finally Jimin emerged with a carefully poised expression and apologised that the wedding was cancelled. Jungkook hadn't seen Jimin in over two years and gosh, he was stunning. He felt beyond jealous for Jaebum, than furious when he realised he had left Jimin to deal with the chaos himself. Jungkook can’t believe Jaebum walked away from Jimin – beautiful, selfless, perfect Jimin. He hates Jaebum not because he got to be with Jimin, because he gave him up.

“I’m sorry for all the shit I put you through,” Jungkook starts slowly.

Jimin lifts his chin, mouth parted in surprise, taken aback by his words.

“I was… I don’t know, trying to figure myself out. I didn’t have space for you.”

“Jungkook,” Jimin whispers and runs his hands through his hair, looking elsewhere. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Can’t we just… forget about it?”

No, I can’t.

“Do you remember when you asked if I felt anything for you?”

Jimin flinches and glares at him, but his eyes can’t lie. Jimin remembers, and he’s still waiting for his answer. “Seriously, I – ”

“I did.”

There’s a pregnant pause and then Jimin is scrambling to his feet, eyes wide and face reddening – with anger or embarrassment – Jungkook doesn’t know. “What the fuck? What are you doing? I don’t want to hear this anymore!”

Jungkook stands up as well so Jimin can’t run away. Not this time. He steps closer to him and he can see the fear in Jimin’s eyes. It’s the second time he’s had this power over Jimin, the opportunity to break him apart, or put him together. It’s a strange sort of thrill, realising just how much someone loves you – with their entire being. “I liked you.”

Jimin takes a sharp intake of breath but steadies himself. “Well, of course you did! I was your convenient fuck. I let you stay over my place! I let you –” 

Jungkook moves to block Jimin’s path to the balcony door. “I… I liked you for more than that, Jimin.” He bites his lip, action betraying his nerves, but his gaze doesn’t waver for a second.

“Jungkook – look – it doesn’t matter anymore! Why are you bring this up again? Why are you dragging me through this, wasn’t once enough? If you liked me why didn’t you just say so? Why are you telling me now? It’s my fucking wedding day!” he screams and it’s the first time Jimin’s ever raised his voice at him. He sounds hysterical, but Jungkook is glad to be on the receiving end of his anger.

Jungkook feels his heart hammer in his chest, pulse quickening. He told himself it was to see Jimin be happy, marry someone he loves and who loves his back, but deep inside that selfish teenage boy is still there. He knows why he’s here.

“Because I came to ask you not to marry him.”

Jungkook is suddenly aware of the sound of the waves behind them and maybe a car engine starting in the distance and Jimin’s breath coming out quick and heavy. An ache spreads across his chest, but he can’t keep it in anymore. Vulnerable and honest, Jimin can break him easily too.

“Because I love you, Park Jimin,” Jungkook says gently and it’s the first time he’s said the words out loud and something pools in his stomach, but a weight is lifted off his shoulders, “I’ve been loving you for a while now.”

Jimin steps back and a hand raises to brush under his eyes, fingertips coming back wet. “What are you… what are you doing…” His voice is gradually getting softer and softer.

“That’s why I’m here,” Jungkook continues, biting his lips and nails digging into his palms, “at your wedding.”

"Are you joking? I swear I'll -"

Jungkook breathes out too quickly. "I'm not joking."

Jimin stutters before he can get out a coherent sentence. “Why didn’t you tell me… that time we met at the party… why didn’t you just tell me then?” Jimin’s still in disbelief. "Why did you just leave?"

Jungkook's always had regrets with the way he slipped out in the morning, leaving nothing but a small kiss on Jimin's temple. “I hadn’t proved anything, yet. I wasn’t anything.”

Jimin lets out a shaky laugh but it’s unconvincing. “You didn’t have to be anything for me.”

“I wanted to. I wanted to be able to spoil you, and take care of you, and make you proud, and let you depend on me, and be happy. I wouldn’t have been able to do any of that. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything for you. You’d have resented me in the end.” Jungkook admits and finally reaches out to brush a stray tear from Jimin’s cheek with his thumb, letting his palm rest there. He’s beautiful.

“You don’t know that.” Jimin whispers and Jungkook’s chest hurts because Jimin was constantly there to try cheer him up, never liked to hear him talk down about himself. He doesn’t understand how he still manages to see the good in everyone.

Jungkook closes the gap between them until their faces are inches from each other. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long for the answer.”

Jimin tilts his face away from Jungkook’s touch, leaving the palm cold. “You should have told me sooner.”

Jungkook’s stomach flips. Am I too late? Did I leave it too long? He feels a surge of panic and then his body is moving too fast for his mind to catch up, for logic and common sense to interfere. He acts on impulse like he did that day Jimin walked him to the door, dressed in Jungkook's t-shirt, mother standing quietly in the hall. Jungkook slots his lips on Jimin's, hands entwining together. Jungkook’s eyes flutter close at the contact and his heart swells, the worry melting away. The hours of studying and staying attentive in lectures, the aimless wondering around Seoul, his rocky but improving relationship with his family, his forgotten lighter under a pile of paperwork, the uncertain purpose of the rings in his pocket – they all had meaning now.

“I… I can’t say it back,” Jimin whispers against his lips and his voice is raw and raspy with emotion and he pauses to wrap his arms around Jungkook, press his face into Jungkook’s neck. “I can’t say it right now – I’m sorry.”

Jungkook knows Jimin’s going to struggle to say it again, not after what happened last time. But that’s okay. “I’ll say it enough for the both of us.”

Jimin laughs, sweet and airy and gorgeous.

Jungkook slips his hand into his pocket to brush across the surface of the box, fresh nerves rising. He’s not going to ask Jimin anytime soon, probably not even next year or the year after that.

But one day he will.

Chapter Text

Park Jimin, you’re not the person I first thought you were.

“So let me get this straight,” Seokjin cleared his throat as he lowered the cooled mug of coffee onto the table, tired eyes more obvious under the harsh, yellow lights of the small café. The five of them – him, Jimin, Jungkook, Yoongi and Yugyeom - looked terribly out of place in expensive suits and styled hair amongst a very casually dressed crowd. The wedding drama was sorted – at least, for the day – and now they all wanted answers. “You two have pretty much been in love with each other since high school but neither of you could admit it.”

Jungkook bit his lip. “Jimin actually…”

“It was a difficult time for us.” Jimin murmured and squeezed Jungkook’s hand, not wanting him to shoulder the blame by himself. It wasn’t Jungkook’s fault – there was never one person to blame when it came to affairs like this. Feelings were a fickle thing.

“Wait, is he the bad boy you fell in love with – the one who treated you like trash?” Yoongi cut in, eyes narrowing in on Jungkook threateningly. Seokjin’s eyes widened.

Jungkook flinched from beside him and Jimin felt panic rise in his chest. “I never said he treated me like trash.”

“It was heavily implied.”

Jimin clutched Jungkook’s hand, hoping he wasn’t taking offense, hoping he understood why Jimin would have said words like that. As if reading his mind, Jungkook ran his thumb across the back of his hand in comfort.

Yugyeom took a sip of his drink before speaking slowly. “So… you never really loved Jaebum-hyung?”

Jimin’s eyes snapped up. God, Yugyeom sounded so torn between his friendship with Jaebum and Jungkook. He looked lost and seemed slightly insulted on his hyung’s behalf, but he was also undeniably close with Jungkook – his best friend.

“I did love him, I swear,” Jimin said sincerely, but Yugyeom was frowning, trying to decide who to believe. “I know I shouldn’t have agreed to marry him, I should have told you all about my emotional baggage.”

“Okay…” Yugyeom ran a hand through his hair and hastily glanced at Jungkook before turning back to Jimin. “Look, what Jaebum-hyung did to you was cowardly and awful, I’m not defending that. But, all this time you two have had this – this thing and… Jungkook, you should have said something. You know you can trust me.”

Jungkook looked down. “I’m sorry.”

Yugyeom sighed heavily.

“So, what’s happening now?” Yoongi asked as his sharp eyes darted from Jungkook to Jimin, as if sizing up their relationship and trying to weigh up the seriousness of their feelings. “Are you two together now?”

“Hyung, of course not.” Jimin sputtered as Jungkook turned to look at him, eyes imploring. Jimin’s voice softened, “I still have to work things out with Jaebum. I probably need some time to myself to – to think it all through as well…”

“It’s alright,” Jungkook assured him gently and Jimin’s chest flooded with warmth. “Take as long as you need.” He then added quieter, “and if you change your mind about us, that’s okay too.”

Jimin melted at his words, but his emotions had been all over the place today, he couldn’t make promises he wasn’t sure he could keep. “Thank you.”

The two of them left shortly after, and Seokjin finally allowed himself to exhale deeply. “I know this is shitty timing but they’re kind of adorable. Pathetic, but adorable.”

Yugyeom chuckled, tone a bit strained but perhaps with less tension than before. Still, he was tired and slightly reeling from the news. “Yeah. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jungkook so taken with someone.”

Yoongi made a sound of frustration and disbelief. “But since high school, really?”

The other two sipped on their coffee in silent agreement.

You met me at my worst, and without a second thought accepted the most damaged parts of me, somehow loved the parts of me I hated the most. I wouldn’t ask anyone to do such a thing for me, but I never had to ask you.

Jungkook felt on edge, evident by the way he kept biting on his fingernails, tapping the counter top, glancing hastily to the closed door.

Jimin had been speaking on the phone with Jaebum for over an hour now and it was starting to make Jungkook worried. With nerves racing through his body, he reached for the glass of wine he’d generously poured for himself and sipped it to try distract his mind.

It would be fine, surely.

Jimin and Jaebum were working things out. It was good, really. Now, Jimin could start to move on and forgive himself for why the relationship didn’t work, and then maybe Jungkook could finally become something more. Though they’d been meeting up regularly, it was on friendly terms – Jimin didn’t want to pursue anything further until he had properly ended things with Jaebum and Jungkook had to respect that.

A few minutes later, Jimin emerged from the room with slightly red eyes but a content smile playing on his lips. Jungkook lowered the glass and gazed at him, unsure of what to say.

Jimin chuckled, eyes warm. “It’s all worked out.”

“That’s good.” Jungkook said lamely as Jimin walked to him, putting his phone down to cuddle into Jungkook’s side, eyes falling closed. “Are you alright?”

“I will be.” Jimin murmured as he rested his temple against Jungkook’s collarbone, head tucked under his chin. “It’s a bit bittersweet, because I did love him. But, I guess I hadn’t been in love, or in love enough. I mean, I think someone can love a person an awful lot but that doesn’t mean they’re the one? Am I making sense?”

“I don’t know.” Jungkook laughed and Jimin shook his head and hit him lightly on the thigh. He really didn’t know, though, because he had only ever loved one person and he was fairly sure he was the one. “But you’re happy, right? This is what you want? Not being with Jaebum, I mean.”

Jimin nodded. “We weren’t right for each other.” He took Jungkook’s larger hand in his, interlocking their fingers. “I’m happy. We both are.”

They sat silently together, sipping wine with the television playing quietly in the background before Jimin took a deep breath and asked. “Did you really do that all for me? Graduate high school early, go to law school, change your mindset and all?”

Jungkook laughed at the abruptness of the question, wondering how long Jimin had been thinking about it. “I think… I think I did it mainly for myself, but it was only because of you that I could.”

Jungkook groaned into the pillow as morning sunshine shone into the room through curtains that had not been properly closed. His palm slid over smooth skin and he buried his nose into a tuft of hair, familiar and nice. A few seconds later the events of the previous night came crashing back – he and Jimin, after a few weeks of regular dates – ended up falling into bed together, hands frantically pulling off clothes and lips searching for every inch of missed skin.

Jimin was still out like a light.

Jungkook smiled, forgetting about the annoying sunlight as the gravity of the situation weighed down on him. They’d slept together so many times before and yet, there had been something new and exciting about this time. Because this time, Jimin was really his. Jungkook didn’t have to be afraid of keeping his emotions at bay, restraining the affection in his voice. He could bare his whole soul to him and Jimin would welcome him with open arms. 

Jungkook could hold his hands and kiss him without the excuse of getting him into bed. He could hold him for no other reason than simply wanting to. Hopefully, this time round Jimin could talk to him more too, not be so afraid to say what he wanted to, not be so wary of Jungkook’s habit of lashing out and pushing him away with cold words and icy glares.

Jimin sighed into his neck as his own eyes fluttered open, sleepy and disorientated, but so cute and beautiful and –

“Curtains.”

Jungkook frowned. “Huh?”

“Can you close the curtains?” Jimin moaned as he pulled the blanket over his head.

Jungkook was so in love.

You make me see life as something beautiful, something precious, but it would never be enough without you in it.

Jungkook sighed as he slid into the cab passenger seat, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose with a shake of his head at the recollection of the day. He was glad it was over, mostly. The work part was. Tonight, his family were in town and they wanted to see Jimin, gathering at Junghyun’s new house with his wife. Junghyun’s wife was pregnant, so he supposed it was kind of a celebratory thing, but they’d all have rather done the congratulating from afar.

Jungkook had been trying to avoid it for a while, but Junghyun got roped into it and well, if they were both going to suffer, might as well together. He knew his brother would have his back, and Jimin would be by his side. Despite having been together for three years, Jimin’s only met his parents a handful of times – at a Christmas lunch, Junghyun’s wedding, that sort of obligatory way. Jungkook was fairly sure his parents all thought Jimin would pass, eventually disappear like Jungkook’s one night stands and small relationships he’s had during university, but now they must have realised it was different. What Jimin and Jungkook had was different.  

It was difficult when Jungkook told his parents he was gay – the revelation made in his first year of university. His mother and step-father didn’t like to talk about it much, but they didn’t reject it. It did annoy Jungkook however how they acted like they were doing him a favour, a service by accepting him. His father, on the other hand, had reacted quite strongly, quite negatively, and it was his step-mother (whom Jungkook did not often get along with) who, rather blatantly, told his father to get over it. Jungkook had been surprised by her support, and though they still weren’t very close (or got along any better, really), her influence helped his father come to terms.

By the time Jungkook got to his apartment and collapsed on the couch, he was exhausted. He really didn’t feel like putting up with his family drama today. He was also slightly worried about Jimin and how he would react seeing how uncomfortable and tense his family dinners could be – especially because both sides of the family, step-siblings and their significant others included, were coming and being confined to one space for a few hours – fuck. Someone was going to end up in tears or an argument would break out and Jungkook really didn’t want to be involved, or drag Jimin through their mess. Jungkook sighed as he shrugged out of his jacket.

He forced himself to shower and change, hastily fixing his hair just as Jimin arrived at his apartment.

“Hey, you.” Jungkook smiled and leaned in for a kiss, Jimin smelling like vanilla. His lips were soft and warm and Jungkook tried not to let his mind wander to all the things he could do to Jimin instead of going to suffer through a dinner.

“Hey, yourself.” Jimin slipped his hand into his. “You seem tired. Long day?”

Jungkook just groaned in confirmation. “I had this couple who wanted to hire me, some business thing. It didn’t sit well with me, something was off about it so I said no and they kept trying to bribe me with more money, and thought they were more important because they were rich. I hate people like them.” He paused suddenly and his eyes darted to Jimin who was blinking up at him, looking sympathetic for his tough day. “I mean… you know how I meant that, right?”

Jimin smiled understandingly. “I hate people like them too.”

Jungkook sighed with relief. He tried his hardest to stop categorizing people, especially when he recalled how much it hurt Jimin all those years ago, but there were still times he slipped up. Whenever he did, he wanted to clear the air immediately then let them both wallow silently about it.

“Ready to go?” Jimin asked as he fixed Jungkook’s shirt.

“Ugh.” Jungkook grunted and followed him out of the apartment, locking the door behind him.

Jimin was jittery all the way to the car, chewing constantly on his lip as he began driving.

“Has your car finished getting serviced yet?” Jimin asked, a distraction.

“Mm. I’ll pick it up tomorrow.”

“Did you miss your baby?” Jimin teased and Jungkook chuckled as he grabbed Jimin’s free hand, kissing the knuckles before shooting him a wink.

“Missed both my babies.”

Jimin flushed as he pulled his hand away and rolled his eyes. “You saw me yesterday.”

“I was talking about your car.”

“Of course you were.” Jimin said flatly but he was holding back a grin which he knew would only feed Jungkook’s smug smirk.

By the time they arrived, too quickly for Jungkook’s liking, Jimin was mussing his hair in that adorable, sexy way he did when he was nervous, and opened the backseat door to grab small, fancy bags with shiny, curled ribbons. Jungkook’s stare zeroed in on them and he knew what they were before Jimin could even explain.

“Sweetheart…” he began exasperatedly.

Jimin shot him a look. “Don’t be mad!”

“You don’t need to get my parents stuff. How many did you even – did you get one for everyone in my entire family?”

“Just the adults, one for each couple…” Jimin said defensively. “I haven’t seen them in like, a year. I can’t show up empty handed.”

“They showed up empty-handed, I guarantee it.” Jungkook replied as he took one of the nicely packaged bags, annoyance growing. He wasn’t angry, just frustrated that Jimin thought he had to prove himself.

Jimin ran a hand up Jungkook’s chest, pressing close and blinking up at him meekly. “They’re just chocolates. It’s not a big deal.”

Jungkook scoffed. “Yeah, the fancy, handmade ones that cost about five times that from a grocery store.”

Jimin deflated in Jungkook’s arms. “I can’t help it. Your family hate me.”

At his voice, Jungkook tossed the bag back into the backseat and held his boyfriend properly, leaning back on the sleek, shiny Mercedes and bringing Jimin forward with him. He craned his neck to look properly at Jimin, brushing his ash brown hair out of his eyes. “They don’t matter.”

“Jungkook.” Jimin glanced away with a sadness in his eyes, looking back a few seconds later with a newfound resolution. “You love your family – wait, hear me out – they frustrate you and I know you still feel like an outsider because of all the step-relatives but they love you too. You’re family. And I don’t want you to feel more like an outsider because you’re with me.”

Jungkook felt his heart twist painfully. “That’s not how it is at all.”

“It is to me.” Jimin insisted and his hands ran along Jungkook’s body to soothe the both of them. “You don’t know how happy I am when you and my father laugh and joke around, or you help my mother out, or you and Jihyun play those video games together.”

Jungkook gazed at Jimin for a few long seconds, trying to find the words to say next. It was highlighted in moments like these just how different they both were, something that drove wedges between them from the very beginning. Still, when they had began dating, they promised each other to always talk and confide.

“Okay, I get where you’re coming from,” Jungkook started as he linked his fingers at the small of Jimin’s back, “but I already know that kind of happiness whenever you and Junghyun-hyung laugh and joke around. He’s the only one whose approval I’d like, and you’ve got it.”

Jimin gave a soft chuckle into Jungkook’s collarbone. “You shouldn’t write off your parents so quickly. They really do care for you.”

“I know they do.” Jungkook said and he did. He loved his parents despite feeling like he lost them a bit after they divorced and they got wrapped up in finding new partners and having a new family. It all felt fake and forced. They weren’t the parents he had when he was a child, and when the relationship dynamics changed it startled him. He wouldn’t say they were negligent by any means, they supported him as best they could. If anything, it could have been Jungkook’s lack of eagerness to accept change, but it was hard in his final years at home. He felt like he couldn’t be himself anymore. When he was around them again he felt pressured to slip back into those teenage years of rebellion, a side he did not want to revisit, a time when he was still shutting Jimin out. “But you don’t owe them anything. They don’t hate you, they’re just still trying to get used to you, and the idea of us.”

“Alright.” Jimin sighed and placed a few bags back into the car. “Just one for each parent.”

“Okay.” Jungkook resigned, knowing it was the best he was going to get. He pecked Jimin’s lips quickly, sending him a wink. “Let’s eat the rest in bed later tonight.”

I would say I want to be with you forever, but forever doesn’t sound like enough. We could have all the time in the world and I’d still want one more second with you.

Jungkook heaved a loud sigh as his character was taken down by his online opponent. Huffing, he gripped his controller tighter and resumed his game with an even greater fire to win, dark eyes completely set on the plasma screen. He leaned forward, chest practically covering Jimin’s back. His boyfriend was sitting comfortably between his legs, reading some inspirational biography. He had a lingering suspicion Jimin had said something earlier but he had been too focused on the game.

“Ah, fuck – go around back – oh, my god I have to do everything myself!” Jungkook spoke into the headset microphone, eyes narrowed and voice deep and cutting. He missed the way Jimin glanced up at him.

“Jungkook?”

Ignoring him, Jungkook quickly pressed on a few more buttons before the round was finished and grinned smugly when he saw he was indeed the top of the leaderboard. “Yes! Damn, that was hard.”

“Jungkook.”

Jungkook didn’t mean to ignore him a second time but his teammates started congratulating him, and well, he was going to accept the praises.

Jimin groaned and got up, and that was when Jungkook’s attention moved to him. “Where are you going?”

Jimin made a dramatic gesture of waving his hands around. “Really? I called your name like five times.”

“Oh.” Jungkook muted his microphone and sat up straighter, hand on the back of Jimin’s knee to prevent him from walking off. “What’s wrong?”

Jimin let out a puff of air. He didn’t seem mad, even somewhat amused. “You’re so loud.” He then pretended to hold a headset microphone to his mouth and did a rather inaccurate – if Jungkook must add – portrayal of him. “Go around back – why do you all suck? Shit, what the fuck?”

Jungkook felt the laugh bubbling up his throat and struggled to keep a straight face. “That was poor.”

Jimin lightly kicked Jungkook’s thigh before stalking off, book in hand and a shake of his head.

“Sweets, I didn’t mean it, come back!” Jungkook whined.

Jungkook narrowed his eyebrows as the store assistant shot Jimin a hundred-watt smile, eyes practically shining as Jimin looked up at him curiously.

“So you’d recommend this stereo?” Jimin bit his lip as he stared at the price tag, utterly oblivious to the way the shop staff – Seonwoo – was flirting with him.

Jungkook gritted his teeth as he stood a bit behind Jimin. He had been busy looking at earphones and such that he didn’t realise the events unfolding near him until now. He hated how Jimin didn’t seem to realise his own charms. Jungkook was reminded of all the times he had discreetly gazed at Jimin in the school halls, jealousy running hot whenever someone would cuddle into Jimin’s side, whisper into his ear, put a hand on his back. In reality, Jungkook knows it was probably all friendly and he personally over-exaggerated it, but still. A few times at school he would purposely walk past and let his fingertips graze across Jimin’s waist. Jimin probably didn’t notice, or thought it was an accident at best.

“This is probably one of the best ones we have right now, and I’ll even give you a discount.” Seonwoo grinned a little too friendly and Jimin stared up at him in surprise, eyes wide. “If you have any trouble setting it up I’m happy to personally come over and help.”

Maybe Jimin finally got the hint because his cheeks darkened, but from the way he shuffled on his feet Jungkook could tell he was uncomfortable.

Jungkook clenched his jaw and strode up to them, Seonwoo’s gaze briefly flittering to him. Perhaps he didn’t realise Jimin was taken, but he was about to. Sure, Jungkook wasn’t the rude, strong-headed person he was in high school, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t sometimes pretend to be.

“Sweetheart, have you found one you like?” he asked, tone dripping with honey and hands settling themselves on Jimin’s waist, lips brushing against his temple.

Jimin looked relieved at Jungkook’s presence. “I think I might get this one. It’s a good size for the studio and it has a lot of handy functions.”

Jungkook looked at the chosen stereo before reaching into Jimin’s back pocket – feeling the store assistant’s eyes on him – and pulling out his wallet. “Want me to handle it?”

Jimin smiled. “Thanks.” He turned to Seonwoo and thanked him also before walking off and disappearing in another aisle.

The purchase went smoothly, despite the way Jungkook’s dark eyes bore holes into Seonwoo and his voice was clipped, causing the other to fumble and stutter a few too many times.

“Thank you, Jungkookie.” Jimin smiled as soon as they exited the store, taking back his wallet. “It felt like he was flirting with me and I still don’t know how to react to that kind of stuff.”

“He was absolutely flirting with you.” Jungkook wrapped an arm around Jimin’s shoulders, “and you should just tell them to fuck off.”

Jimin giggled, eyes dancing. “I guess you never really flirted with me back then, if anything, I did to you. You were really mean – apparently that’s the way to my heart.”

“Aish, don’t bring that up.” Jungkook whined, and stopped Jimin in the middle of the carpark so he could rub his cheek. “I flirt with you all the time now.”

Jimin kissed him quickly on the lips, Jungkook’s pout disappearing. “I’m joking. You know I’m just joking, right?”

“I just don’t like thinking about the times when I hurt you.”

“Kookie, if all you did was hurt me I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you. I think you did a lot more for me without even realising it. You don’t have to be sorry anymore.” Jimin whispered and Jungkook cupped the back of Jimin’s head.

“I didn’t do anything for you…” he mumbled guiltily, wondering why they were having this emotional talk in the middle of the carpark. High school Jungkook was selfish and greedy. The only time he ever thought about Jimin was when he broke his heart, and the only reason it wasn’t the most selfish act was because he had also broken his own.

“You made me realise that life wasn’t so black and white, that there weren’t just ‘good’ and ‘bad’ people, and that sometimes you feel things you can’t understand. You were sort of like an enigma.” Jimin said as they began walking again to Jungkook’s car.

Jungkook gave a dry laugh. “So, basically I had problems.”

“And I was your solution.” Jimin sang cheerfully, eyes crinkling at the corners.

Jungkook scrunched his nose up at the cheesiness of the comment and how Jimin was doubling over laughing at his own answer, but he supposed it wasn’t quite untrue.

Forgive me for my bluntness and nonchalance, the moments when I speak too quickly, and when I don’t say enough. Forgive me when I pull away and close myself off – it’s not that I’m scared to let you in, I’m scared of what you’ll see.

But remember that no matter what, no matter how cold or angry I seem, I love you and I’m sorry if I don’t show it enough.

Jungkook closed his eyes and massaged his forehead, headache gradually becoming harder to ignore, and frustration and fatigue under his eyes. He sent off another long email before opening up some files a colleague sent to him for review. Halfway through the document, he heard the door open and footsteps hesitantly walk in. Jungkook hated the awkwardness yet he kept his eyes trained on the screen, feigning indifference when really his attention was completely on the other person in the room.

“I brought you coffee.” Jimin whispered and placed a mug on the desk. He stood beside him for a few seconds, perhaps waiting for Jungkook to say something.

He wanted to say thank you, and say sorry – god, he hated when they fought – but his mouth wouldn’t move.

He felt Jimin place a hand on his shoulder gently. “I’m sorry I got so upset with you. I just feel like you still don’t tell me things, and I tell you everything. But I know it’s hard for you to talk about things, and you’re doing your best. I’m sorry I made you feel like that wasn’t enough.”

Jungkook felt a lump form in the back of his throat at Jimin’s sad, apologetic voice. It’s not his fault, why is he apologizing? He shouldn’t let Jimin take the blame.

“It’s almost twelve, you should get some sleep.” Jimin added and then left the room, not knowing Jungkook was screaming in his mind for him to stay.

A few agonizing minutes ticked by before Jungkook couldn’t stand it any longer. He got up hastily and made his way to their bedroom, finding Jimin under the blankets. He slipped into bed beside him and pulled his boyfriend to him.

“I’m so sorry. You had every right to be upset.” Jungkook murmured as Jimin hugged him close, face pressed into his neck, legs tangling together. He isn’t one to apologize profusely, but when he says it he always, always means it.

I promise I will be there for you in your lowest seconds and darkest hours. There’s nothing you could do that would make me leave. For every moment of weakness I’ve seen, you’ve held me through far worse. You can rely on me this time, I hope I’ve proved that to you by now.

“I did something awful.” Jimin said glumly as he sat at the dining table, Yoongi and Seokjin on either side, Jungkook and Taehyung across.

“It’s probably not that bad…” Seokjin began but trailed off seeing Jimin’s eyes redden. “Please don’t cry. If you cry, I’ll cry.”

Jimin made a sound of despair and Jungkook wished he had seated himself next to Jimin so he could place an arm around him, instead Seokjin did that for him.

“I got kicked out of the dance production, the one I’ve been practicing months for?” Jimin began and Jungkook blanched.

“What?” The four of them gasped, Yoongi looking positively menacing, Taehyung and Seokjin shocked.

“But why? You’re perfect for the role!” Jungkook blurted before he could stop himself. Jimin bit his lip and his cheeks flushed, and he managed a small, grateful smile.

“The dance coordinator doesn’t like me. She was always making jabs at my dancing, my facial expressions, and even unnecessary stuff like my clothes, or my attitude, or my appearance. Today she just said she found a replacement.” Jimin choked up and buried his face in his palms. Jungkook felt his heart break before the anger came full force.

“That bitch, I’m going to end her.” Taehyung snapped, voice venomous, saying the words Jungkook had in mind.

“I’m right behind you -” Yoongi started before being cut off.

“Wait. Wait. But why do you think you did something awful to her?” Seokjin interrupted and glanced at Jimin who was staring at the table, one hand pulled off his face and tangled with Jungkook’s across the table.

“Because…” Jimin took a deep breath, “she kept going on about how my dancing is flawed and finally I snapped and said ‘no wonder your husband can’t stand you.’ I caught them arguing once, you see. And it was no secret they were having problems.” Jimin gulped and let his forehead drop onto the table. “I’m so terrible. She just got all quiet and walked off and I feel like actual garbage.”

The others were silent, trying to muster the best reaction, and then Yoongi snorted with a roll of his eyes. “But she deserved it.”

“But you don’t understand! I shouldn’t have dragged her personal life into this, that’s so low. I apologized over and over later but she told me she was going to ruin my career. She has influence, she could make sure I never get hired for anything!” Jimin sucked in a deep, shaky breath and glanced at Jungkook with what looked like shame and failure.

Jungkook clenched his jaw – someone like Jimin should never feel that way, for something he worked so hard for. Jimin had been telling him what was going on for weeks now, but whenever Jungkook offered to step in Jimin shot him down and said he just liked someone to rant to, and that there was little that could be done. It was a cruel industry, but Jungkook felt awful seeing how much Jimin was struggling to impress someone who probably had their mind set on him from the start. Deciding on his next course of action, Jungkook stood up slowly, pulling out his phone.

“I’ll be back in a second.” He smiled as reassuringly as possible at a teary Jimin before going upstairs and onto the balcony, searching his phone contacts.

After a few rings the call was answered and a chirpy, refreshing voice greeted him. “Hey Jungkook! It’s been ages! How have you been?”

“Hey, hyung, I’m okay, you?”

“Great! I ran into Yugyeom and Bambam the other day, we should all catch up again sometime.”

Jungkook grinned. “Yeah, we should. Um… so I’m really sorry hyung, but I need a favour.”

“Well, I do owe you after you represented my cousin for free.”

Jungkook chuckled lightly. “How is he, by the way?”

“He’s a lot better now, thanks to you. We’re all so thankful for what you did.”

“It’s absolutely fine, I’m glad he’s better.”

“Me too! So what’s the favour?”

A couple days later, Jimin was contacted by Jung Hoseok, one of Korea’s most acclaimed dancers and choreographers to perform with him in an upscale production. Jimin was over the moon, squealing with excitement and particularly affectionate during the days leading up to it.

“Hoseokie-hyung told me what you did.” Jimin said after they returned from the performance, some makeup smudged under his eye, not quite washed off. Jungkook was sitting on the couch and Jimin wrapped his arms around his shoulders, smiling into his neck. “You shouldn’t have.”

“You should depend on me a little more.” Jungkook mumbled, turning his head to see Jimin and garnering his mood. He didn’t look mad, a little sheepish if anything. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

I promise that if we every turn our backs on each other, walk away, call it quits, I’ll run after you. Every time. Because I know what it’s like to lose you –

And I never want to feel that way again.

Jungkook woke up crying. He didn’t realise he was crying until he felt damp cheeks, wiping the tears with the back of his hand. He sniffled, head still spinning with flashes of empty wardrobes and a lack of sneakers and no strawberry, vanilla candles in their bathroom –

Jungkook sat up on the couch, hair a mess. There was a half empty bag of chips on the coffee table and his laptop still open… ah. Jimin was in Japan for a performance, they skyped last night.

He sat back on the cushions, trying to will away the remainder of his dream. He didn’t know how he managed so many years without Jimin when now he couldn’t last four days without wanting to complain and pout about the distance between them. Stomach growling for food, he got up and walked to the kitchen, glancing at the calendar and noting that Mr and Mrs Park would be coming over shortly. He ran a hand through his hair and hoped he had enough time to look presentable.

“So um… thanks for coming over.” Jungkook began nervously, fiddling with a loose thread of his jeans. He was usually so comfortable with JImin’s parents but this time it was different. “Do you want more tea? I think I have some cake in the fridge, oh, maybe some chocolates too –”

“I’m alright.” Mr Park laughed and his wife nodded, her eyes shining with something Jungkook was too anxious to identify.

“O-Okay.” Jungkook wiped his hands on his thigh, licking his dry lips. “So… you know that Jimin and I – he’s in Japan, by the way… you guys knew that already, of course, um, so –”

“You want to marry my son.”

Jungkook’s rambling came to an immediate stop. Did he really just say that? “How did you know?”

Mr Park chuckled. “We’ve had this conversation before.”

Ah, right. Jungkook flushed and ducked his head, embarrassment burning in his cheeks, wondering if Jaebum had been more suave and graceful when asking. Jungkook had practiced it many times but it all fell to pieces the second they arrived.

“Jungkook, we would be truly disappointed if you didn’t ask Jimin to marry you.” Mrs Park laughed and Jungkook’s gaze snapped up. “I think the fact that you can barely ask us shows how much you love him.”

“O-Oh, I do, love him a lot.”

“Last time I went on a big speech about looking after him and all.” Mr Park chuckled, giving Jungkook a pat on the shoulder. “But I don’t think it’s necessary this time.”

Jungkook imagined this moment many times, that he would grin brightly and thank them repeatedly but instead his chest was so tight with happiness and gratitude he could only clasp his hands together and say ‘thank you’ quietly, struggling to stop his emotions from breaking the surface.

“May I see the rings?” Mrs Park asked after they had all gotten themselves under control, excitement replacing the nerves that were once present.

“Yes, of course.” Jungkook replied as he pulled out the box from his pocket. It had been waiting a long time for this moment, and now honestly Jungkook was worried Jimin wouldn’t like it. It wasn’t the most expensive ring, and all in all it was quite simple, but Jungkook had fallen in love with it because it reminded him so much of Jimin.

“Oh! I remember this set when it came out, an exclusive one. It was quite a few years ago…” Mrs Park trailed off as Jungkook glanced at her, face hot from being found out. But she only leaned back into her husband’s embrace, smile saying more than words ever could.

“He’ll say yes, Jungkook.” She whispered to him as they left.

And he did.

I want to spend the rest of my life with you.

It’s always been you.

And it always will be.

Jungkook gazed down at his husband – the school’s perfect honour student, an optimistic, cheerful angel – his lips were red and kissed and he was glowing with happiness as their wedding guests clapped and cooed and took photos.

Now that Jungkook thought back, he didn’t think there was ever a time where it could have not been Jimin.

Somewhere in the beginning, maybe the first night he slept over at Jimin’s, or even before that in the studio, or maybe even just seeing him in the school halls or hearing his laugh… There had been a moment, not like love at first sight, more like realisation, or recognition. Sort of like somewhere deep inside his mind, long before he became conscious of it, before his heart even had time to catch up - oh, it’s you. It’s going to be you.