Archive of Our Own ^beta

Jimin hasn’t always been soft. It took a long time for him to believe that he could be soft and still masculine and strike a balance between who he is and who he has to present to the world.

Taehyung so appreciates when Jimin takes the time to be soft for him.

Airport days are some of the worst. Not only do they have to fly, which in and of itself is exhausting, despite doing nothing but sit. But then there are the cameras and the flashing lights and the screaming and the people pressing in and his mask stifling his breath and being polite to the paparazzi and trying not to trip and fall and keeping track of his luggage and following security and getting in the right car and and and—

The relief only comes when the last of the doors of the car click shut and the tinted windows mute the lights and Taehyung is left in soothing, relative quiet. True peace comes when the cars pull off and the hum of the engine and the whiz of passing traffic are the only thing he can hear over his headphones. Finally settled, Taehyung slips his phone from the pocket of his jacket and swipes it open. He ignores emails and red bubbles of notifications and heads straight to his texts.

Me [14:27]
ugh

Minnie [14:27]
???
u ok?

Me [14:28]
loooong day
I hate flying days...
No wait
I hate airport days
I have a /massive/ camera flash headache 🤕

Minnie [14:30]
Sorry taetae
Gonna nap until we get home?

He could. A nap sounds better than nice at the moment. The rolling of the car is soothing and the leather seats are plush and comfortable. But there’s a knot in between his shoulder blades that keeps him from relaxing enough to slump over in the seat into unconsciousness. Taehyung tries for a moment, but the window isn’t enough cushion for his head. He wishes he had a shoulder to rest on. Anyone’s, honestly, but right now Taehyung misses the inviting, soft skin of Jimin’s neck and the way he giggles when Taehyung nuzzles his nose into it while he gets comfortable.

Me [14:33]
I wish... Nobody in the car to sleep with

Minnie [14:33]
kekeke 😉
Just who are u sleeping with? Isn’t there a driver?

Taehyung rolls his eyes as far back into his head as he can. Normally Jimin and his witty banter are something he lives for. It’s a good way to get out of his head and snipe back and forth. They’re more quiet and subtle about it, but Taehyung and Jimin argue and pick and play-fight with each other just as much as Jin and Jungkook do. And usually, it does the trick when Taehyung needs to get out of his head a little bit. Today, though, it makes him bristle.

Minnie [14:37]
Tae?

Me [14:37]
mmm...

Minnie [14:37]
Sorry. Just not feeling it today?

Me [14:39]
Yeah. Just.

Minnie [14:39]
Tired

Me [14:40]
Yeah. And we’re busy aaaaall of next week and I think the week after? I just need a break for like. A day

Minnie [14:41]
Taehyungie...

Me [14:43]
I know I’m asking for a lot for that. Like I get it we’re idols. But we’re not machines
Maybe I don’t even want a whole day
Just a few hours

Minnie [14:45]
Well we don’t have anything happening tonight when we get back
Does that count?

Me [14:46]
I guess...
But then everyone will be around and Joonie-hyung won’t want to go to bed
I don’t even think I wanna go to bed
I just need it to be quiet. And dark
I’m tired of thinking

Minnie [14:49]
You’re feeling a little soft, huh?

On the nose. Jimin, even without seeing it in his face, can read through the lines of his text messages to see what he needs. It’s something that Taehyung will forever love and appreciate about his friend.

Friend.

It’s a loaded word. Of course they’re friends: when you’re stuck in a room with someone for years and spend almost every waking moment together, it’s hard to not be anything else. When you’re stuck in a room with someone for years and spend almost every waking moment together, it’s also hard to just be friends. Yoongi and Jungkook had come out first (they’d been dating for almost six months before they told anyone, which Namjoon promptly reamed them out for) as bisexual, and then Jimin as queer weeks later. Taehyung hadn’t exactly come out after that, not to the group, but he found himself in Jimin’s bed more often, whispering secrets and truths to each other night after night (the first time they kissed, Taehyung cried because Jimin had been so soft and so careful cradling his face in his hands, a romantic gesture he hadn’t experienced in years (read: ever)).

So yes, they’re friends. But also maybe a little more than that? Certainly not boyfriends, though. Right?

Me [14:52]
Yeah... think so
idk it’s whatever

The chat bubbles appear and disappear and appear and disappear several times and Taehyung stops looking at his phone to avoid becoming carsick as the wave of periods ebb and flow across the screen. He toys with the phone in his hand, spinning it between his thumb and forefinger, until it buzzes again. By the time it does, Taehyung recognizes the familiar scenery as they approach what each of the members has come to know as home.

Minnie [15:03]
Hoseokie says he’ll take Namjoon-hyung out for dinner or something
Wanna hang out in my room? I can make it dark and quiet?
Cuddles? Tea?

Taehyung smiles at his phone, hoping that Jimin can feel the ferocity of it telepathically.

Me [15:04]
ur my favorite Jiminie 😍😍
Yes cuddles, maybe tea? Dark and quiet is nice
But definitely cuddles
Please

Minnie [15:05]
Your wish is my command, Kim Taetae-ssi

Taehyung puts his phone away and tries to rest for the remainder of the car ride. He checks a couple of notifications and takes a few selfies to pick from later if he decides he wants to put one on Instagram. Content. Always content. The cars pull up in a uniform line and Taehyung hears the tires crunching gravel as they come to a stop. His phone buzzes. He almost doesn’t look, busy trying to wrangle his things so he can go inside and flop on his bed, at least for a few minutes.

He’s glad he does.

Minnie [15:32]
Do you need anything else Tae?

He only hesitates for one quick second before he taps a response and shoves his phone in his pocket before he can think twice about it.

Me [15:33]
Just u. You know?

His phone buzzes back, but he doesn’t have time to check it: the car door slides open and the world is in motion again. At least at home, the cameras can’t get to him.

When he finally does check his messages, forty minutes, a short shower, and a long unpacking later, the message that greets him squeezes his chest in the warm way he’s stopped trying to stifle and shove back down.

Minnie [15:34]
I know. I got you Taetae. Always have, always will💓

-

Jimin doesn’t text Taehyung until just after 6, at which point Taehyung is trying valiantly and failing to not bounce off the walls. Even exhausted, the pent up leftover energy from spending all day sitting and the anticipation of quiet alone time with Jimin has him vibrating. Even Namjoon tried to calm him with gentle words and distracting questions, but after seeing the vacant expression on his face, he left him to join Hoseok. He wished him well on his way out, patting his shoulder. Even though Namjoon hadn’t looked upset or anything but understanding, Taehyung texted him to apologize.

Minnie [18:07]
Taetae
I’m ready for you now
Sorry I took so long... I wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you 🤗

Taehyung ends up in front of Jimin’s door just before 6:30, dressed in his favorite baggy silk pajama bottoms and one of Yoongi’s shirts that he “borrowed” and “forgot” to give back. The matching pajama top to his set exists somewhere, but Taehyung couldn’t be bothered to go searching through his clothes—both clean and dirty—to find it.

He takes a deep breath at the door, ready to knock and announce himself, but his nose is greeted with the warm scent of vanilla and lilac seeping from under the door. Instead of knocking, Taehyung lets himself in and hums as the smell permeates through the air.

“It smells nice in here, Jiminie.”

“I used your favorite incense.” Jimin lays belly down on his bed, idly pushing around his phone with his fingers. Taehyung can’t see his face yet, but he can hear his smile; the soft little one that turns up his upper lip but leaves his lower lip pouting out.

“You’re sweet,” he says, closing the door and inching closer. He isn’t nervous— he’s never nervous around Jimin. This is just something that’s new to them, that they haven’t quite figured out how to navigate yet. But like they do in all things, Taehyung is sure that he and Jimin will make whatever this (relationship?) is work.

“I know,” Jimin says, his eyes crinkling as he smiles at Taehyung’s eye roll. “Come here.” He beckons Taehyung over with his finger and pats the open space next to him on the bed. Taehyung follows his voice and is up on the bed, pressed against Jimin’s side, in a second. He’s soft and clean and he isn’t wearing the cologne he likes, but Taehyung prefers Jimin’s natural scent anyway. It’s sweet, like him, and it fills him with the distinct sensation of being smothered in a warm hug. It’s why he digs his nose so deeply into the divot between Jimin’s neck and collarbone when they hug: he would inhale and devour the scent forever if he could.

Maybe Jimin will let him.

“I put a hot water bottle under the covers so it’ll be nice and warm for you. Want to snuggle up with me?” Taehyung just sighs and throws an arm and a leg over Jimin’s back and thighs and squeezes as best he can from their awkward angle before releasing him.

“I love you, Jiminie.” Taehyung’s brand of love has always been blatant, open, and obvious. He loves unconditionally, and when he feels it, he says it, no matter what. And it feels so right to whisper it into Jimin’s ear, to make sure that he feels it all the way to his toes. Jimin’s smile grows and he covers his mouth with his hand to hide how wide it is. Taehyung grabs his hand and pulls it away. “No hiding your cute smile, okay?”

“I love you, too, Tae,” Jimin says in response. He rolls to the side and lifts the blanket and sheets up, waiting for Taehyung to crawl in before following him down and dropping the bedding over them. True to his word, their makeshift cocoon is warm and cozy and dark.

“It’s perfect,” he murmurs, shifting to his side. He uses his bicep as a pillow and stares, watching Jimin do the same and get comfortable. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, silly. You would do the same for me. You have done the same for me.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung agrees, reaching out to stroke his hand down Jimin’s shoulder and arm. His shirt is thin cotton but Taehyung pushes it up anyway for unrestricted access to Jimin’s soft skin. He isn’t ticklish, but goosebumps rise on his forearm when Taehyung drags his nails down over the inside of his arm. “But I wanna thank you anyway. It’s important. So that you know I appreciate it.” Jimin’s smile is so soft and so loving that it makes Taehyung ache, and he lets Jimin take hold of his hand and thread his fingers through it.

“I know you do.” His voice is just as gentle as his smile and the slow, easy way that he blinks. Taehyung feels something inside of him start to release. It bleeds from him, the constant barrage of emotion and noise and lack of personal space and freedom and autonomy slipping away until all Taehyung can think about is Jimin’s small fingers trying to envelop his hand and how good he looks like this: content and free.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jimin asks after some indeterminate amount of time. Taehyung’s lost track of how many minutes (hours?) have passed with him lying there, alternating between watching Jimin breathe and closing his eyes and feeling Jimin’s hands trickling freely across his arms, waist, back, and chest. They’ve gotten gradually closer to each other, discontent with the space between them and how far they had to extend their arms and legs to be entangled in each other. Jimin’s calf is between Taehyung’s, and Taehyung’s arm is slung over Jimin’s hip, pulling him in at the small of his back. There’s no panic here, about being so close to each other. There are no cameras, no other people interpreting their physical contact to worry about. Taehyung shakes his head, then nods. Jimin’s little laugh tinkles between them like the softest of windchimes.

“Don’t laugh,” Taehyung says, pinching Jimin’s side, but he’s laughing too, just as soft, a perfect tenor harmony with the quiet soprano of Jimin’s giggles. “I don’t know,” he continues. “Don’t you ever just get tired sometimes?” Jimin knocks their foreheads together and nods. Taehyung loses count of the points of contact they have with each other. “Don’t you miss being home and all of the stuff that we’ll never get to do?” Jimin sighs, another tiny sound, and cups Taehyung’s face with his hand. He rubs his thumb across his cheek, then higher, right under his eye, and then back down. There’s no real rhyme or reason to the rhythm of the movement, but the constant motion is soothing like a baby being rocked in his mother’s arms.

“I do miss it, sometimes.” Jimin’s honesty is refreshing. They spend a lot of time talking about how wonderful everything is, so being able to relinquish that and get down to the brutal honesty is a welcome breath of fresh air. It’s not like they’re lying when they talk about the amazing opportunities they have or the amount of love they have for the stage and for ARMY. They just also have to be mindful of exactly how much of the struggle they do show. It’s hard, though, when all of their lives are on camera. They’re open almost to a fault, having cameras pointed in their faces at their most vulnerable moments, but there are some things that are supposed to just be for themselves.

This, talking about how much they miss what could have been and what almost was, is one of them. They don’t talk about it often; it’s heavy to carry around, but wrapped up in this bubble, in the cocoon of soft sheets and Jimin’s body heat, everything is light. They’re allowed to talk about it here.

“I miss it, but where would I be without everyone? Without you? I don’t think I can go back to living alone again, not after being so close to everyone for so long. I have family from my home. But you’re my family, too.” Jimin is quiet for a moment, then hums. Taehyung waits for him, letting the words settle around him. “I do miss it, though, the freedom. The...I don’t know.” He sighs. “The normalcy.” Taehyung nods in agreement. “What do you miss, Taehyungie?”

Taehyung closes his eyes and sighs. He misses a lot of things, a thousand little things like walking down the street alone and going to the grocery store and the movie theater like a regular person. But honestly? Taehyung shrugs. “I miss the stupid shit. Like when my mom would chide me about wearing my shoes in the house. I miss the little things like that, you know?” Jimin nods along, never stopping the slow stroke of his thumb across Taehyung’s cheekbone. “I miss waking up to the smell of her cooking.” His voice is softer when he speaks again, tighter. “I miss my grandma.” Jimin kindly ignores Taehyung’s single sniffle. They don’t talk about how much of a different kind of missing it is.

“Yeah,” he whispers. Jimin shifts his face up and kisses Taehyung on the nose. Taehyung feels the heat rise up his face and toward his ears. The warm feeling spreads, joined by the heat that’s ever-present in his chest. Even when the first tear slides down and over the bridge of his nose to the other side of his face, he smiles.

If there were anything that comes as close to home, it’s here: hiding under the covers as close to Jimin as he can manage.

“I miss not being stressed all day.” That gets a wry chuckle from Jimin, who pats Taehyung’s cheek and coos.

“You don’t have to be stressed now, though.” Taehyung exhales and rolls his shoulders back, trying to do as instructed and rid himself of his tension. Jimin’s fingers spider walk their way down between his shoulders and he grunts in pain when he presses into the tight muscle. “You are, though. You have to relax or you’ll crack right in two.” His fingers roll to his knuckles and he pushes a little harder. Taehyung groans again, still aching. The relief hums just below the surface, though, and on his next exhale, the pain starts to disperse. “How can I help you relax, Taehyungie?”

Jimin’s voice has the same inquisitive lilt as it did the first time he sat in Taehyung’s lap and whispered do you need a kiss, Taehyungie? He knows what comes next if he asks for it. He knows that all he has to do is say that he needs Jimin to kiss him until he forgets about his problems until Jimin’s mouth becomes all of the things that Taehyung misses so that he can’t miss anything anymore.

“Kiss me, Jiminie,” he whispers. Their lips are already almost touching, noses already brushing against each other. “Please.” Jimin pulls Taehyung closer to him. Their chests almost press together; they start breathing each other’s air. And then Jimin kisses the top of his nose again and wiggles.

“Come here, sit up.” Taehyung protests with a whine but follows Jimin quickly when he sits up. Taehyung shifts and Jimin straightens his legs so Taehyung can sit on his thighs. They struggle under the blanket for a moment before Jimin tugs it around Taehyung’s shoulders. “A cape for my little prince,” he says, and then takes Taehyung’s jaw in his hand and kisses him.

Every time Jimin’s lips touch his, Taehyung feels the explosion of stars colliding in the sky from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. His hand snakes around Jimin’s waist as he tries to prevent himself from turning into stardust and floating away in the feeling. Jimin’s grip on his jaw is strong but gentle, and he controls the angle of Taehyung’s mouth like a ventriloquist. It takes a moment for him to settle, but when he does, Taehyung presses in just a hair closer and opens his mouth, letting Jimin pull his mouth open wider with his thumb pressing down on his chin. Their lips close again, the smallest bit slicker, and they press together again. Taehyung makes a high, quiet noise in the back of his throat and Jimin uses his other hand to drag soothing nails up and down his side, sending little waves of shivers up his body.

Taehyung’s hands aren’t still, but they move slow like the branches of his favorite willow tree in the wind. They whisper across his back and up his shirt, resting intermittently on his lower back or either of his shoulders. The next time they part their lips, Jimin’s tongue flickers out to trace the hollow shape of his mouth before pressing his lips together again. Taehyung chases his mouth as best he can, but Jimin only readjusts his hand around Taehyung’s face and keeps him exactly where he wants him. The feeling of being kept, of being held and grounded and safe, is exactly what Taehyung missed. It’s all he ever misses, the sensation of being protected. There’s so much vulnerability in their lives, and the surety that he feels right now, with Jimin sucking on his tongue in the dark, is something he would do anything to keep.

He trails his fingers up and combs through the back of Jimin’s hair. Jimin smiles into the kiss and pulls back just enough to say, “Always you and my hair, Taehyungie.” He blushes and starts to drop his arms back down, but Jimin stops him with a rapid succession of kisses. “No. Play. It feels nice. I wasn’t making fun of you, I promise.” He’s talking with his mouth on Taehyung’s, kissing him quick every time his lips come together when he speaks. His voice is a low hum, a peaceful ohm that gives Taehyung permission to just let go. “I’d never make fun of you here, okay?” Taehyung nods as much as Jimin’s hand will allow. “Okay, good. I love you, Taetae.” A kiss. “I told you,” another kiss, “this is the space for you to relax.” Jimin tilts Taehyung’s head down and back and sucks on his lip. Then he licks up, so slow that Taehyung thinks he might burst, until he can tug, just a little, to the divot of his cupid’s bow. Jimin’s lips are plush and satiny, bigger and poutier than his and it envelops him completely. Before he can nip at Jimin’s lower lip in return, he speaks. “This is our space. For as long as you...for as long as we need it.” Taehyung’s heart starts doing the warm, squeezing thing again: It’s overwhelming and comforting at once. Jimin’s mouth is on him again, and Taehyung resumes his fingers’ journey through Jimin’s hair.

He loves to play in Jimin’s hair. He likes to pet it, to scratch through his scalp, braid it, tie little sprouts all across his head. It’s always so soft, and it flows through Taehyung’s fingers like the softest of silks. When he drags his hand up the back of Jimin’s neck and kisses him a little harder, Taehyung thinks that most of Jimin—the deepest part of him—is soft like silk. When Jimin gasps and brings Taehyung closer, he amends his thought. No, all of the silks and satins in the world can’t hold a candle to the softness that he is. It’s like being clothed in the essence of Jimin, like this.

Jimin bites his lower lip again and he moans.

And that’s when Jimin releases Taehyung’s jaw and slides his hand to the back of his neck. There’s almost a sense of urgency with the way that Jimin pulls them impossibly closer and tilts his head to the side to work his tongue around Taehyung’s mouth. They move a little faster, with more whines and gasps and groans, but it’s still languid and lazy and a little fuzzy around the edges. Taehyung’s fist bunches and releases Jimin’s t-shirt when their tongues meet again.

Taehyung pulls away just enough to take a deep breath. There’s a thin line of spit connecting their upper lips and they have just enough time to notice it before they’re back together, Jimin sighing into Taehyung’s mouth. Taehyung tastes the comfort of home in Jimin’s kiss, and he groans when he feels Jimin shift their hips closer. Taehyung rolls down a couple of times, rocking up into Jimin’s mouth and then down on his hips. The slow friction combined with the sounds of mouths parting and coming together and Jimin’s hot breath go to Taehyung’s head. He thinks about how nice this could be with him on his back, with Jimin shirtless straddling him and holding down his wrists to kiss him until he can’t think. The thought is...hot.

It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it before. He’s been crawling into Jimin’s bed for almost four months now; there’s no way not to think about Jimin on top of him, over him, under him, taking him apart in so many delicious ways. The next time Taehyung rolls his hips down, he starts to get hard. He’s not embarrassed. It’s happened a few times and they just ignore it until it goes away. But this time, Jimin keeps kissing him, holds him firmly by the hips and lets Taehyung rub himself to full hardness on his crotch. Jimin isn’t hard, but Taehyung can see the small flush of color coming up his shirt and spreading across his neck.

Jimin pulls back, mouth still open, taking deep, steady breaths. Taehyung knows they haven’t had this conversation (the one where he and Jimin confront his Big Gay Awakening) yet. He doesn’t even know if he’s gay. He just knows that he likes it when Jimin curls around him and pays him special attention; he loves the way that Jimin says his name just a little softer than he says everyone else’s; he languishes in the sound of Jimin’s laugh when he’s the one who does it. His peals of laughter, the tiny chuckles, the silent struggling to breathe. What he knows is that he’s never been so in love with someone that he wants to write ballads and opuses and compose sonnets every time he sees them.

But they haven’t had that conversation yet (this quiet time isn’t the place for it; this is a space reserved for nothing but softness and peace), and he’s not going to go into something deeper than this with Jimin before it; it wouldn’t be fair, so Taehyung peppers kisses along the lines of Jimin’s open mouth and Jimin laughs into him. The sound fills him with the warmth again, the beautiful, heart-stopping warmth, and they drag each other back down for another round of kisses and soft moans and gasps until Jimin starts to wriggle underneath him.

“What is it, Jiminie?” Taehyung mumbles, trying to kiss him again. It’s the first time he’s spoken since he asked Jimin to kiss him. His lips tingle like static when Jimin puts his finger over his mouth.

“I can’t feel my legs,” he admits, and they both burst into a tiny fit of giggles. The kissing and the shared oxygen have gone to their heads, and Taehyung forces his lower body into motion. In short order, Taehyung is back on his side waiting for Jimin to get comfortable. They settle easily into each other. Taehyung rests with his cheek on Jimin’s stomach. His shirt is pushed up, rumpled on top of Taehyung’s head. He’s got his leg thrown over Jimin’s hips, curled into him, and Jimin strokes his back in a soft ebb and flow motion. They’re suspended in a moment between waking and sleeping: Taehyung feels weightless and grounded and tired and exhilarated.

“I love you,” they say in tandem, and then chuckle.

There’s no real need for words after that. They breathe quietly, giving in to the pull of sleep. Taehyung’s mind replays moments of his kisses, of the feeling of Jimin’s hands on him, leaving his body bright and warm and so, so loved. He falls asleep to the thought of finally telling him, of saying yes, Minnie, I’m in love with you and Jimin jumping on him and kissing him senseless (in all of the times that he’s dreamed this, it’s the first time that he thinks he’s sure that Jimin will be in love with him back).

-

Taehyung isn’t quite conscious when the door clicks open. He has no idea what time it is or how long he’s been sleeping, but he knows that as soon as the rustling stops, he’ll be right back to it. His eyes open just enough to see Hoseok smiling down at the pair of them, curled around each other like puppies. Taehyung’s eyes fall closed again when he feels the blanket tugged up over him once more. Jimin mumbles something unintelligible and rolls over in his sleep. Taehyung follows him, wrapped around his back. Hoseok is a reminder that the real world looms off somewhere in the near future. Taehyung releases Jimin just long enough to tug the blankets back over their heads. Soon, they’ll get up and go back to their lives and it’ll feel good and nice and the right kind of exciting. It’ll be nice, when it has to happen. Because at the core of it, performing is something that he truly does love: it fuels him, it's a part of him.

He just needs a little bit more of this first.