Chapter Text
The red light on the camera blinked on.
Jungkook leaned closer to the phone, eyes scanning the screen with practiced ease, his posture relaxed in a way only someone deeply familiar with lives could manage. He adjusted his sleeve, exposing a sliver of his wrist, then smiled.
“Did it start?” he asked casually.
Behind the camera, Jimin nodded, lips curling upward. “Yeah. You’re live.”
Jungkook hummed. “Hi, everyone.”
The comments flooded in instantly—hearts, names, inside jokes. Familiar. Comfortable. Safe.
Jimin hovered just out of frame, sitting cross-legged on the couch, arms wrapped around a pillow. He wore one of Jungkook’s hoodies again. Everyone always noticed that, even when he pretended they didn’t.
Jungkook’s eyes flicked toward him without thinking.
“You’re warm?” he asked.
Jimin blinked. “Hm?”
“You keep stealing my clothes because you’re cold,” Jungkook said, tone light but fond.
A few comments exploded immediately.
JIMIN??
IS JIMIN THERE??
JIKOOK LIVE??
Jimin laughed softly, already embarrassed. “You talk too much.”
Jungkook grinned. “You love it.”
From the kitchen, Namjoon sighed. “You’re both terrible at being subtle.”
Jin’s voice followed. “At this point, it’s not a secret. It’s just… unannounced.”
Yoongi snorted from somewhere unseen. “They’re married in everything but paperwork.”
Jimin buried his face in the pillow. “Hyung!”
Jungkook didn’t deny it.
That was the thing—he never did.
He tilted the camera slightly, enough that Jimin’s socked feet appeared at the edge of the frame.
“ARMY, I’m not alone today,” Jungkook said calmly. “We’re just… hanging out.”
Jimin shot him a look. A soft one. Nervous. Loving. Warning.
Jungkook met it and softened immediately.
Later, after the live ended and the dorm fell quiet, Jimin curled into Jungkook’s side on the couch, fingers fidgeting with the hem of the hoodie.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Jimin murmured.
Jungkook kissed his hair without thinking. “I wanted to.”
“You always want to,” Jimin replied gently. “But you know how they are.”
Jungkook’s jaw tightened.
They both knew who they were.
The comments. The edits. The comparisons. The cruel insistence that Jimin was an obstacle, a third wheel, a problem to be erased. Taekook shippers who crossed lines and called it love.
Jimin never fought back. He never corrected anyone. He absorbed it all quietly.
That was what hurt Jungkook the most.
“I saw what they said today,” Jungkook said softly.
Jimin stiffened. “Jungkook—”
“You don’t have to protect me from it,” Jungkook continued, voice low. “I’m already angry.”
Jimin looked down. “I don’t want you to fight fans.”
“I’m not fighting,” Jungkook said. “I’m claiming.”
Jimin’s eyes glistened. “Kook…”
Taehyung appeared in the doorway, holding a snack. “Hyung, you crying again?”
Jimin scoffed. “I am not.”
Taehyung rolled his eyes affectionately. “You two are so obvious it’s painful.”
Jungkook laughed. “You don’t mind?”
“Mind?” Taehyung snorted. “You’re my family. Both of you. Anyone who says otherwise is blind.”
Jimin exhaled shakily.
Later that night, when Jimin finally fell asleep—face pressed against Jungkook’s chest, breathing soft and even—Jungkook stared at the ceiling.
He thought about the meetings.
The negotiations.
The wait.
And how long Jimin had already waited.
He picked up his phone, thumb hovering over the Weverse app.
Soon, he promised silently.
I won’t let you be alone anymore.