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Taehyung curls his legs up on the sofa, hugging them close to his chest. An indefinable ache lingers in his centre. He tries to watch the variety show that’s playing on his TV, but his racing mind has other plans. Instead, his thoughts veer sharply back to the same place they’ve been veering to for as long as he can remember, no matter how many times he tries to re-route.
Jimin.
Always Jimin.
The image of reporters practically climbing over each other to catch a glimpse, their words cruel and jeering, floods into his mind. Jimin’s name lying bitter in their mouths when they didn’t have the goddamn right for it to be there in the first place.
Of course Taehyung had gone out first, had protected Jimin. How many times, over twelve summers and cold winters, had Jimin been the one to protect him?
It wasn’t always so overt, the way they looked after each other. But in this instance, Taehyung knew that the steely, sorrowful look in his eyes hadn’t gone unnoticed. Nor had his unflinching resolve to bear the brunt of the attention. He could only hope that those leeches would take at least some of the bait…
Later, he’d been unpacking his suitcase, sorting his unwashed clothes into lights and darks in preparation to do his laundry. The message that had pinged on to his phone had been deceptively simple. And yet, the resonance had struck deep, scratching at the surface of feelings probably best left buried. Feelings he was afraid to acknowledge, even to himself.
Penicillin-ssi (15.07):
Home safe. Thank you for looking out for me.
“Always,” Taehyung had murmured, as instinctive as breathing.
He’d stared at his phone for seconds, or minutes, he wasn’t entirely sure. Trying to think of something appropriate to reply.
Something that wasn’t too much.
In the end, he hadn’t replied at all. The phone had slipped from his fingers and become submerged in the soft blankets on his bed.
Jimin would understand. Jimin always understood.
*****
It is later, much later, when the sound of the combination lock on his front door jolts Taehyung awake. He hadn’t even realised he had fallen asleep curled up on his couch. The variety show is long over, reruns of a Joseon-era drama having taken its place. Taehyung’s living room is dark, aside from the eerie blue glow of the TV screen. For a moment, his senses flare into high alert, his SDT experience igniting his bloodstream and inciting him to act. But then, the door opens, and familiar soft footsteps come padding into the room.
“Taehyung-ah?”
Of course it’s Jimin. There are a handful of people who know the combination to get into his apartment, but only one who uses it with any regularity. For a moment, Taehyung can’t help but wonder if Jimin knows that Taehyung’s heart waits only for him. As soon as the thought is formed, it is discarded, flung on the pile of things he cannot allow himself to want too much.
Taehyung stretches his limbs and stifles a yawn as Jimin carefully sits down beside him.
“Baby bear, did I wake you?” Jimin’s voice is gentle, wrapped in the same cotton-wool softness he so often uses with Taehyung.
“Yeah,” Taehyung admits. “But I shouldn’t have been sleeping anyway…” He trails off, eyes adjusting to the darkness and meeting Jimin’s.
Taehyung almost asks Jimin why he’s here. But he doesn’t think he wants to know the answer, so he doesn’t ask. Instead, he hands him his phone and says, “Wanna order some food?”
Jimin hums in agreement. Wordlessly, he takes the phone from Taehyung’s hands and begins ordering their favourites.
Taehyung sits back and watches him.
The silence is comfortable, but there is a turbulence resting just below the surface that neither man has any wish to disturb. Food arrives, and is eaten. Jimin takes the empty dishes and places them outside the door. When he returns, Taehyung pats the space next to him in an invitation.
Silence stretches between them yet again. That in itself is nothing new. Rather, it is the quality of this particular silence that has Taehyung’s mind whirring. There is a brittleness to it that profoundly disturbs Taehyung’s equilibrium. And still, he says nothing, his warm, almond-shaped gaze resting gently just off to the side of Jimin’s shoulder.
Jimin’s breathing grows louder in the quiet room, his shoulders rising and falling with each shuddering inhale and exhale.
Taehyung’s gaze sharpens, focuses, yet remains soft. Always soft, with Jimin.
“Taehyung-ah-”
Jimin’s voice, while soft-grained, carries a plaintive quality that bursts into the room in a blaze of technicolour. Taehyung’s gaze is immediately trained on Jimin’s face. A dull thud, like a mossy rock falling in a forest, echoes deep within him when he registers the agitation in his best friend’s eyes.
“Jimin-ah,” he replies, soft. Always soft, with Jimin.
“I guess I owe you an explanation…”
Taehyung’s eyebrows shoot up. His heart thuds in his chest, frantic. When he speaks, his voice comes out louder than he intended.
“Jimin-ah, what on earth makes you think that you owe me anything more than who you are, and what you’ve always been to me?” he blurted out. Eyes wild, the whiteness of the sclera dominates his glare.
Jimin’s breath catches. He bites his lip, and Taehyung knows he is trying to hold back the hot rush of unexpected tears.
A voice deep inside Taehyung chides him. You should always be soft with Jimin.
The analogue grandfather clock Taehyung has ticks loudly in the corner of the room, and Jimin blinks. More than once, Taehyung wonders if Jimin is about to say something. But the words don’t come. Taehyung’s heart beats louder. The slight mismatch between the ticking of the clock and his heart rate bothers him more than it should.
Just when Taehyung has given up hoping that Jimin will speak, a long, breathy sigh floats into the space between them.
“It’s just that,” Jimin begins, the edges of his voice raw. “Why now, when…” He trails off. His eyes flick to Taehyung’s for the briefest of moments, then they are gone, looking somewhere over Taehyung’s left shoulder.
“When what, Jimin-ah?” Taehyung interjects. Soft, always soft with Jimin.
“Ugh,” Jimin exclaims, dropping his face into his hands. “I can’t even bring myself to say it.”
Taehyung’s stomach gives a lurch. What, exactly, can Jimin not bring himself to say? Is the situation really so bad that he can’t even tell Taehyung about it? After twelve summers and cold winters, given everything they’ve shared?
Jimin forcibly wrenches his gaze back to Taehyung’s face. The moment it settles, his eyes turn gentler. “Taehyung-ah… I…” He falters, playing with his fingers as they rest in his lap.
“I’m listening, Jimin,” Taehyung intones, deep and steady.
The agony in Jimin’s eyes strikes a body blow to Taehyung and he fights the urge to scoop Jimin into his arms and protect him from whatever, or whoever, has him feeling this way. But Jimin’s jaw has a determined set to it, and so he sits back.
“Why now,” Jimin says, quietly but clearly, looking down at his hands, “when… it seemed like you were finally beginning to understand how I felt about you.” He looks up sharply, meeting Taehyung’s astonished gaze. “How I feel about you, Taehyung. I finally had the courage to allow you to understand, and now…” Jimin trails off in an anguished wail.
Taehyung’s skin burns unexpectedly hot. Recent moments spent with Jimin flash through his mind in vivid detail.
Hoseok-hyung’s concert, where they had danced and sung their hearts out, side by side.
The live with Namjoon and Jungkook, when Jimin had stolen his clothes and worn them for everyone to see.
And last, but most importantly, that day on the beach when they waded into the waves hand in hand, facing the ocean together.
Taehyung had told himself again and again not to get too carried away. That what he wanted could never be, and that he was foolish to pin any hope on it.
Until now.
Dizzy with emotion, Taehyung grabs the back of the couch to steady himself. “You had the courage to allow me to understand,” he repeats flatly. “What if I didn’t understand, until now?”
“Then I’d suggest you hurry and catch up,” Jimin replies, an uncertain smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
The fire burning under Taehyung’s skin distils itself directly into his gaze.
Jimin falters. “Uh. I know that I haven’t always made the best choices in the past. But I’ll try to do better. I will do better, for you-”
Taehyung is suddenly right in Jimin’s space, his humid breath tickling Jimin’s mouth with every exhale.
“Like I said, Jimin-ah. You owe me nothing other than who you are, and what you’ve always been to me,” he murmurs, reaching into Jimin’s lap to grab his fidgeting hands. “Nothing at all.”
“But what if I want to give you more than that?” Jimin breathes, his cheeks turning a pale cherry-pink.
“Then I will gladly receive it,” Taehyung declares. Giving Jimin’s hands a squeeze, he pulls back just enough for his eyes to roam over Jimin’s entire face. “Only what you want to give, though,” Taehyung warns, eyes dark and serious for a moment. “I would never betray your trust like- Ugh, let’s not talk about it,” he cuts himself off.
“Enough about that, it’s in the past,” Jimin agrees. His eyes overflowing with sticky-sweet adoration, Jimin reaches up to cup the back of Taehyung’s neck with one hand, feeling him melt into the touch. The shattered moment repairs itself as their eyes hold a deep conversation that has no need for words.
Unti Jimin is ready to speak again.
“And what will happen, Kim Taehyung, if I want to give you my everything? What will you do then?” Jimin whispers, gently tugging Taehyung’s head forward until their foreheads rest against one another.
Taehyung lets out a tiny, almost inaudible sigh. “Then I’ll give you my everything, too,” he says simply, as though it’s the only possible answer he can give.
“Kiss me already,” Jimin breathes, throwing his arms around Taehyung in a gesture of surrender.
So, Taehyung does.
Brushing his lips over Jimin’s, Taehyung hums and smiles as he both hears and feels Jimin’s breath hitch. He has dreamed of this moment for so long that nothing in the world could make him rush it. With aching gentleness, he slots their lips together, moving slowly to savour the sensation of their mouths meeting for the first time. When he feels Jimin shudder in his arms, Taehyung pulls back a few millimetres. Just enough that their lips almost touch as they breathe the same air. Jimin whimpers and pulls the back of Taehyung’s neck forward so they are kissing once more. Eager and curious, his tongue traces the outline of Taehyung’s lips, slipping down to the seam between them and gently prodding its way inside. Taehyung opens easily for Jimin, wrapping his arms around him even more tightly as the sweetness of Jimin’s unique taste subsumes him.
When at last they need to come up for air, Jimin pulls away, leaving a small string of saliva connecting his lips to Taehyung’s.
“Have I made myself clear, now?” he asks cheekily, a sparkle in his deep brown eyes that has been missing for the last few days.
“I don’t know,” Taehyung teases. “Maybe you should kiss me again.”
So, Jimin does, diving in to bite Taehyung’s bottom lip and slipping his tongue inside as Taehyung yelps in surprise. Giggling into the kiss, Taehyung manoeuvres Jimin so that he is sitting on his lap, one leg resting either side of Taehyung’s knees. He cannot prevent his hands from wandering, from exploring the elegant curve of Jimin’s ribcage and his waist so small that Taehyung could practically encompass it with his hands.
Minutes bleed into hours. Lips become swollen, breathing becomes more laboured. Hearts become even more hopelessly intertwined. When, eventually, Jimin’s head begins to droop on to Taehyung’s shoulder, he knows it is time for this day to end.
“Taehyung-ah,” Jimin murmurs, his eyes falling closed. “ ‘M tired.”
A pang of sorrow for what Jimin has been forced to endure racks through Taehyung’s body and he accidentally squeezes Jimin a little too tightly.
“Eek!” Jimin squawks, nevertheless still snuggling further into Taehyung’s hold.
“Come on, little bird,” Taehyung coos, “let’s get you to bed.”
“Put those big muscles to use and carry me,” Jimin teases, sticking out his lower lip defiantly.
Taehyung obeys, scooping up a giggling Jimin and carrying him to his bedroom. When Jimin’s back hits the mattress, Taehyung crawls over him and cages him between his arms.
“It’s funny, Taehyung-ah,” Jimin muses, chewing on his lower lip. “But it took me all this time to realise that I had these feelings for you, when in reality I knew from the day you posted those photos with ‘Let’s keep going for a long time, I only have you’,” he admitted.
Taehyung looks at him, astonished. “It’s been growing in you since then?”
Jimin laughs. “And has it not been growing in you, since then? Mister 4 O’clock and Sweet Night?”
Taehyung blushes all the way to his chest, his golden skin flushing an angry-looking red. “Shut up,” he pouts, pushing Jimin lightly on the shoulder.
“Make me,” Jimin teases, wriggling his body from side to side.
So Taehyung does, leaning in to kiss him more fiercely than he has done so far. This kiss escalates until Jimin’s knee is between Taehyung’s thighs, Taehyung’s hands are splayed on Jimin’s lower back and they are both panting and gasping for air.
“I’m in love with you, Kim Taehyung,” Jimin says with a quiet intensity that strikes Taehyung directly to the heart.
“I’m in love with you, Park Jimin,” he returns, each word vibrating with love and life. Because he can’t help it, Taehyung leans down to kiss Jimin’s sore, puffy lips once again. This kiss is deep and hungry, passionate, but also soft.
Because Taehyung knows he should always be soft with Jimin.
END.