[bts: v/jimin] tonight, we'll defy the stars (hello my old heart) (3/3)
part one | part two | part three
Guess what?” Taehyung asks the moment Jimin arrives back in their apartment. Jungkook smiles hesitantly at him from the couch with a video game console in his hand and Jimin tosses his bag onto the kitchen table a bit too harshly.
“What?” He asks as he goes takes one last sip from his drink and offers the rest to Taehyung. Taehyung snatches it greedily with his free hand and rests his head against Jungkook as he sucks from the straw noisily.
“Guess,” Taehyung smiles at him and kicks Jimin’s butt so he stumbles onto the floor. His eyes are full of mirth as he continues to finish the fizzy drink and Jimin looks at him with an affronted expression.
“I signed up for the dance class,” Jungkook interrupts them and Taehyung punches the side of his stomach lightly. Jimin forgets that Jungkook is spends almost every other day at their apartment, ever since the Second Date as Taehyung likes to label it.
Taehyung beams at him as he hugs Jungkook even tighter. “Isn’t that great news?” He beams at Jimin as Jungkook makes a disgruntled sort of sound and shimmies his way out of Taehyung’s grasp. He looks exasperated and Jimin beratedly thinks that he wouldn’t worm out of Taehyung’s grasp. “Hoseok-hyung is going to be Jungkookie’s teacher and you two can get even closer.”
“Yeah,” Jimin manages to answer evenly. His fists are trembling by his side and he desperately prays that Taehyung won’t see his knuckles turn white. (When he unfurls his hands later they’re marred by crescent-shaped marks). “Maybe now Jungkook can call me hyung.”
Taehyung and Jimin are both sitting on his mattress and Taehyung’s head is resting against his shoulder and his arms are encircling his waist. Jimin’s heart is a soft pitter patter and he slowly brings his arm to wrap around Taehyung’s stomach and rests his chin on top of his head. (He’s eighteen years, two hundred sixty-seven, ten hours, fourteen minutes, and eight seconds old).
“Sometimes I wonder if soulmates are really meant to be,” Taehyung murmurs into Jimin’s shoulder and he nearly doesn’t catch it.
“I don’t know either,” Jimin mumbles as he averts his eyes to the coffee stain on Taehyung’s sweatpants. “Maybe sometimes your destined soulmate and your actual one don’t always match up, like Yoongi and Namjoon and Hoseok.”
“I used to think I would be happy if I just found my soulmate,” Taehyung remarks absently as his eyes follow patterns on the ceiling that Jimin can only hope to see. “What do you think about love, Jiminie?” Taehyung asks as he tilts his head up to look into his eyes.
He’s taken aback by the question, “What?” He asks and inside he berates himself for being so slow. “I,” He begins hesitantly, “I think loving someone and being in love are two different things.” He looks to Taehyung’s eyes for confirmation to continue and from this proximity he can see the specks of black. “I think being in love is when the smallest thing a person does makes you enraptured, but you’re also aware of all their flaws. It’s when the way they drool all over your shirt is cute and how you can’t breathe that split second when they wake up next to you. But you hate the way they never listen to you and insist on drinking the cup of hot chocolate right after its been made.”
Taehyung exhales and his mouth is pressed into a thin line. “I used to think I knew what love was. I was so sure of it too but,” He looks up and when Jimin meets Taehyung’s eyes they’re wet and glistening. “Do you think all soulmates fall in love? Or is it just something for fairytales,” Taehyung mumbles into the side of Jimin’s chest.
“Yeah,” Jimin’s throat is parched. “I wish I knew too,” He tightens his arms around Taehyung and some unseen pressure is digging into his sternum. He chooses not to comment on the wet spots forming on the side of his shirt.
They’re both lying in the dance studio (eighteen years, two hundred seventy-eight, fifteen hours, thirty-three minutes, and nine seconds) and Jimin bites back a giggle as Taehyung attempts to shove another marshmallow into his mouth. His eyes are wide and his cheeks are bloated and the other marshmallows threaten to spill out of his mouth. The “twelve chubby bunnies” are muffled by the sheer amount of spun sugar in his mouth.
Reaching for the bag, half empty by this point, Jimin picks another marshmallow and forces it into his mouth. He gags for a moment, but regains control and manages to mumble “twelve chubby bunnies” without throwing up.
“You two are disgusting,” Yoongi’s voice filters through as he opens the door and Namjoon is right behind him. He wrinkles his nose and steps into the room.
“Is this the life of a college student?” Namjoon asks as he grabs one of the marshmallows and stuffs it into his face. Taehyung says something but it’s obscured by the marshmallows. “I’ll take that as an invitation to play.” Namjoon takes another marshmallow and puts it into his cheeks. He looks like a bloated chipmunk and Jimin and Taehyung look at each other and burst out in laughter.
“Urgh,” Yoongi scowls as he sits down next to them, “Not you too Namjoon.” Namjoon only shrugs his shoulder as he reaches for his third marshmallow. “I’m telling Hoseok about this, just so you know.”
Namjoon spits out the marshmallows onto the dance floor in shock and Jimin attempts to imitate Yoongi’s expression behindn his back. Taehyung somehow snickers with twelve jumbo marshmallows in his mouth. “You’re too cruel,” Namjoon whines petulantly and he sends Jimin and Taehyung a glare. It only ends up making him looking ridiculous the spit continues to dribble down his chin.
“This is disgusting,” Yoongi shoves Namjoon away as he gestures vaguely to the mess on the floor as well as the almost empty marshmallow bag. “Make sure you clean up this mess and maybe your life while you’re at it.” Yoongi reprimands the three of them. Namjoon lets out a high-pitched noise and attempts to widen his eyes and pout. “Hoseok also told me to give you these.”
“What?” Jimin asks around the marshmallows as he picks up the papers which Yoongi had hesitantly put down next to him.
“He said you’d know,” Yoongi shrugs as he sits up and begins to walk over to the door. “Have fun cleaning up,” He waves absently and Namjoon scrambles up after him. “Don’t worry too much, Jiminie.” Yoongi shouts once the door slams shut.
Taehyung begins to swallow and his face is red for a total of five minutes before it turns back. “You aren’t going to leave me, are you?” Taehyung maneuvers around the puddle of Namjoon’s spit and jumbo jet marshmallows so he’s facing Jimin’s face as he sits in his lap.
Jimin begins to rapidly chew and swallow and he nearly gags by the time he’s finished. “What do you mean? I’m never leaving you.” He fiddles with the collar of Taehyung’s shirt. His heart is speeding up and maybe it’s just the sugar catching up with him.
“Then why do you have forms for a trip?” Taehyung raises an eyebrow as he reaches for the top paper and shakes it in front of his face. “I need you, you aren’t allowed to leave me.” He crosses his arms and looks away from Jimin. “You’re the most important to me, Park Jimin.”
His heart stammers and skips several beat before it manages to quell the surge of affection. “I only have you,” Jimin sets aside the rest of the paper as he takes Taehyung’s hands in his. “I’m not going to leave you,” He promises.
“Can you buy me McDonalds?” Jungkook asks from the side as he watches Jimin packing his bag. Jimin stops with his extra pair of pants in his hand and looks incredulously at him. Jungkook shrugs sheepishly, “I’m hungry.”
“Can’t you wait until we get back home?” Jimin eyes Jungkook as he stuffs his pants into the bag and zips it up. He slings it over his shoulder and walks out the door, holding it open for Jungkook.
Jungkook jogs over and whines in a voice mimicking Taehyung, “Please, Jiminie will you buy McDonalds for me?” He pouts for extra measure and rubs circles into his stomach. Jimin thinks darkly that Taehyung taught Jungkook these tricks in hopes that they’d work on him, and it’s only because Jungkook looks so ridiculous (and maybe just a little bit cute with his extra baby fat still stuck on his cheeks, but Jimin would never admit that Jungkook reminded him of his little brother) that he relents.
“Jiminie-hyung,” He admonishes Jungkook as he continues to walk ahead, pretending to ignore him.
Letting out an exasperated sigh Jungkook concedes, “Hyung, will you please buy me McDonalds?” There’s a smile on his face as he hugs Jimin, quick and he’s nearly startled out of step, before jumping down the street. “Thanks Jimin, I wanted to get Taehyung that new Iron Man toy with the Kid’s Meal.”
“That’s my job,” Jimin frowns as he increases his pace to catch up with Jungkook, “And it’s hyung for you.”
Jimin flops onto the mattress and buries his face into the pillow as he groans. Taehyung looks up briefly from his computer before pushing up his classes up his nose and Jimin thinks he looks ridiculous because Taehyung doesn’t even need glasses. Jimin grabs his phone and texts Hoseok, lamenting about his problems in life. He hears Taehyung’s computer snap shut as there’s a sudden dip in the mattress. Taehyung pushes his side and wraps his arm around Jimin.
His glasses are being pressed uncomfortably into his side and Jimin swings his arm around, the one Taehyung isn’t using as a pillow, to text back furiously at Namjoon who’s texting for Hoseok at the moment. His arm begins to feel sore and the position if ridiculous but Jimin continues anyway.
“Hey do you think I’m cute?” Taehyung inquires as he tugs at Jimin’s shirt. Jimin’s heart lurches in his chest (eighteen years, three hundred and two days, twenty hours, sixteen minutes, and fifty-seven seconds). He chooses to hum absently instead as he texts Hoseok in all caps lock. Taehyung yanks the collar of his shirt this time so Jimin is forced to look down at him, “Jiminie is mine, right?”
“What?” Jimin sputters as he nearly drops his phone. Taehyung’s grip on the collar of his shirt is unrelenting and Jimin feels the blood rushing to his cheeks. Taehyung’s gaze stare into his eyes and Jimin wonders why his heart still refuses to cooperate with him. “Of course I’m yours,” he murmurs as he ducks his head into the pillow, embarrassed.
“Then you should answer me,” Taehyung responds as he plucks Jimin’s phone and tosses it into the general vicinity of the bed. Jimin lets out an indignant squawk. “So do you think I’m cute?” He asks again as he pulls Jimin’s waist closer to his.
“No, I think you look stupid,” Jimin squirms as he cover his face with his hands and attempts to get out of Taehyung’s iron grip. “Don’t you have a lab report that’s due soon?” He asks when Taehyung’s disapproving gaze still hasn’t shifted.
“I wanted to cuddle with you,” Taehyung informs Jimin as he moves his arms so they’re wrapped around his shoulders. “It’s a lot more fun than working on my report. Besides, we never have quality cuddling time anymore.” Jimin bites his tongue before asking if the reason behind that is because Taehyung spends all his time cuddling with Jungkook, despite the fact that his smiles don’t fully reach his eyes when he’s with him now.
Taehyung puts his head against Jimin’s head and Jimin tries to breathe evenly so his heart isn’t racing. He’s not very successful in his endeavor. Taehyung moves his arm that’s draped over Jimin’s waist and tugs at his wrist. Jimin shifts his position so their hands are intertwined in a comfortable position.
“I’m the best cuddler, right?” He asks as he rests his chin on top of Taehyung’s head. It’s soft and tickles at his nose and he breathes in deeply.
“Yeah, the best.” Taehyung replies into Jimin’s shirt. Jimin looks at their interlaced hands and wonders they’re hands actually fit together perfectly or if he’s just imagining it.
Hoseok is stroking his hair as Jimin lies in his lap and he’s busy pulling at the stray threads on the couch in the office. “I’m so dumb,” He laments as Hoseok continues to run his hand through his hair.
“Yeah, I agree,” Yoongi agrees distractedly as he figures out the the beat for his new track. Namjoon is busily scrawling lyrics besides him and the two are deeply immersed in their work.
Jimin looks up to Hoseok who looks faintly amused at the situation. “I’m not dumb,” he whines and he feels faintly embarrassed when it comes out eerily similar to Taehyung. Spending almost his entire life as Taehyung’s probably wasn’t the best decision of his life. “My life sucks,” He exhales dejectedly into Hoseok’s thigh.
“Yeah, it does.” Yoongi responds as he plays the a short section of the track. Hoseok makes a disagreeing noise in the back of his throat and Namjoon slides over and takes the mouse from Yoongi.
“You worry too much, Jiminie,” Hoseok sighs absently as as he begins to play the strap of Jimin’s tanktop. “It’ll all work out in the end.” Jiminie makes a noncommittal grunt as he considers how stupid he and he mostly blames his heart for stumbling so easily. “Are you ever going to accept that dance offer, it’s a great opportunity you know?”
“I don’t know,” Jimin turns onto his side so he can see Yoongi and Namjoon both hunched over the desk. Maybe this is why Yoongi is so short, Jimin muses as Yoongi slouches further into the desk. “I promised Taehyung I wouldn’t leave him,” he drawls as he traces the wood patterns on the floor.
“I think you should do it,” Namjoon butts in as he looks up from his work. His face is stretched thin and taught and his eyes are threatening to close even though it’s only three in the afternoon. Dark rings circle his eyes and guilt twinges in Jimin’s chest. “I wish I could do something like that.”
“You see?” Hoseok beams at Jimin. “You’ll get to travel the world and dance at the same time.” Jimin blinks blankly at him and Hoseok continues, “And you get a discount because I teach some of the university’s students.”
Namjoon rubs his eyes and Jimin wonders how he can possibly go to one of the top universities in Seoul yet compose music with Yoongi and Hoseok for the underground scene. “Take it, Jimin, you never know what kind of people you can meet too. Seokjin won’t mind either.”
A flash of anger rises in Jimin’s chest and Hoseok is giving Namjoon the ‘you better shut up before I toss you outside into the dumpster’ look. He takes another look at the worry blatantly scrawled across Namjoon’s face and the way Yoongi pretends to be absorbed in his music but has stopped tapping on the table. “I don’t want to go, hyung.” He finally responds, “I don’t think I can go, not now.”
There’s resignation in Hoseok’s eyes. Namjoon spins back around in his chair and Yoongi continues to tap along to the beat, pretending as if nothing has happened. Hoseok sighs inaudibly as he resumes stroking Jimin’s hair, “Just tell me if you ever change your mind, okay?”
Jungkook and Taehyung are locked in an embrace on Jungkook’s doorstep like in some cliche movie. Taehyung leans in to say something, he can’t hear it even when he strains, and Jungkook begins to giggle. Jimin turns around, embarrassed, and he puts his hands underneath his armpits as he pretends that he ever saw their faces basked in the warm light of the lamp street. He kicks at the gravel on the pavement and pretends not to feel his heart withering away as the seconds extend into minutes.
The door closes and Jimin takes that as his cue to turn around. Taehyung stands there, with a smile on his face, and Jimin’s breath lodges in his throat. He offers his hand hesitantly to Taehyung as they walk down the street, and Jimin nearly doesn’t notice Jungkook pulling aside his curtains, waving from his room. He feels a small sense of victory when Taehyung grabs his hand and they continue down the street, but it fades quickly.
The light still hasn’t faded from the sky, and on the horizon. Jimin can see where the orange turns into faded green-yellow and mixes with cerulean, and lastly into a mixture of navy indigo and darkness. Their hands are swinging in tandem with Jimin’s heartbeat (nineteen years, twenty-six days, eleven hours, forty-nine minutes, and thirty-two seconds, thirty-three seconds, thirty four).
Taehyung looks up at Jimin and his shoulder feels cold from the lack of Taehyung. They’re still walking and Jimin’s hands are becoming grossly sweaty despite the weather and he resists the urge to wipe his palms against his pants. “Do you mind if Jungkook moves in with us?”
“What?” Jimin’s mind screeches to a halt along with his feet. His hand is still in Taehyung’s grasp and Taehyung is looking at him with his head tilted inquisitively. He blinks and in that split second (nineteen years, twenty six days,eleven hours, fifty-three minutes, six seconds) his heart shatters on the very pavement below them.
“Jungkook’s going to college next year, you know?” Taehyung rattles off as he pulls Jimin down the road once more. Jimin’s blood has turned tepid and his hands have turned and ice cold in contrast to what they were a few minutes ago. “And he’s planning to go to a college near us. Only if it’s okay with you.”
“That’s cool,” Jimin replies indifferently. He thinks Taehyung ought to be more careful with fragile things, maybe he should have known better considering how many mugs he unwittingly dropped. It was stupid of him to hand over something so fragile and so eagerly, when he should have kept his heart carefully guarded and wrapped in several layers of bubble wrap.
“Do you think it’s too early in our relationship for this? I thought it might help us.” Taehyung queries as he sneaks Jimin a doleful glance. “He doesn’t have to move in, not if it’s okay with you,” Taehyung adds after a moment of hesitation. Jimin feels himself being torn in two.
“No, it’s fine,” He insists as he thinks back to all the nights where Taehyung attempted to persuade Jimin that yes, it would be warmer if they slept together. He thinks back to early mornings, where he woke up groggily to discover that his entire shirt was soaked in Taehyung’s drool and the nights where his breathing was the only tie to reality. “I’m happy that Jungkook’s going to move in. Maybe I can finally get him to call me hyung.”
The happiness exploding on Taehyung’s face is nearly unbearable for Jimin. And somehow his chest still manages to squeeze and clench painfully. This time he’s almost certain it’s Taehyung’s hand doing the squeezing. “Thank you, Jiminie,” Taehyung releases his hand to engulf him in a hug. Jimin squirms for the first few seconds before finally going slack. He tentatively wraps his arms around Taehyung’s waist and Jimin’s nose is awkwardly stuck to the side of Taehyung’s armpit.
“It’s not a problem,” Jimin lies as his voice wavers. He hopes that Taehyung doesn’t feel the drops setting into his shirt and he turns his head so he can see the transformation of the red sun-streaked sky into darkness. The first thing he does when he gets back home (Taehyung is in the shower and he’s nineteen years, twenty six days, twelve hours, one minute, and forty-nine seconds) he picks up his phone and calls Hoseok.
Nineteen years, eighty-one days, five hours, twenty-six seconds Jimin slumps in the seat of the plane as he lays his head against the window pane. He rubs his temples and his phone vibrates against his thigh. Jimin takes a deep breath and thinks back to the tense car ride, where Seokjin had driven him with his jaw clenched and Hyosang had periodically looked back every minute. In the car Jimin gazed listlessly out of the window, watching the trees blend into splotches of green, with Hoseok’s hand on top of his.
Jimin picks it up and when the caller ID reads “Namjoon.” He presses decline and mutes his phone when his notification center is flooded with texts from Yoongi and Hoseok. Putting his headphones on, Jimin switches his phone to airplane mode and leans against the side of the plane. The closest he gets to sleep is when the plane finally lands, only to be jerked awake .
He’s sitting on his hotel bed, his roommate has left with the other university students, and his phone buzzes on the nightstand. Jimin is tempted to ignore it but then it buzzes again, and all the messages from the day previous are flooding in.
taehyung (9:32): jiminie where are you?
taehyung (9:50): jimin
taehyung (9:51): jimin
taehyung (9:51): jimin
taehyung (9:51): jimin
taehyung (9:51): jimin
taehyung (9:52): jimin
taehyung (9:52): jimin
taehyung (9:53): jimin
taehyung (9:54): jimin
hoseok (9:55): are you alright
hoseok (9:56): if you want to come back just message me
yoongi (10:09): you could at least message us to tell us that you made it
yoongi (10:14): okay then don’t
hoseok (10:21): please tell me if you’re alright
seokjin (10:47): wtf park jimin namjoon told me what happened i can’t believe you
seokjin (10:49): you have to face your problems not run away from them
seokjin (11:03): just please be okay
taehyung (1:32): jimin
taehyung (3:16): i miss you
Jimin drops his phone on the bed, his hands shaking and squeezes his eyes shut. His knees feel wobbly and he can no longer make an excuse for them. Taking a breath, Jimin shuts off his phone and places it next to the lamp. He turns off the light with a click and the room is so dark Jimin can hardly see anything except for the city lights. He settles into the bed and it’s too big and too wide and too cold, even though the blankets are thick. If Jimin wraps all the blankets around him and squints at the blinking light from the smoke detector he can pretend he’s back home, with Taehyung by his side.
Somewhere on North America, between Los Angelos and New York or maybe it’s even Chicago, Jimin doesn’t know anymore, every day becomes a routine. He wakes up to look at the ceiling, a different one every week. Sometimes it’s a plain gray one, other times its a speckled white one and Jimin gets lost in counting the bumps. He lies in bed, phone buzzing with messages on the nightstand that he can’t be bothered to check, his roommate who has his nose buried into the pillow.
The sunlight filters through the curtains and Jimin knows that should be his cue to get up, yet there’s something binding him to the bed. Each breath he takes is tiresome and he feels bone weary, at only nineteen years, ninety-three days, eighteen hours, twenty-six minutes, and forty-two seconds. He pulls the covers over his head, so he’s encompassed in the dark again and where his heart should be beating is only a hollow emptiness instead.
It’s only when his roommate is finally awake and stumbles noisily out of bed Jimin kicks off his blankets. The pressure on his chest is akin to the kind on takeoff, and Jimin struggles just to sit up. He puts on his clothes mechanically and when he eats he only does it out of necessity. It’s tasteless and bland and the loud laughter and roar has dulled filtered into white static in his mind. Jimin looks out past the lobby into the window. The motley of cars, the hotel walls, and the people all around him blend into the white emptiness of his mind.
Every time he dances, it becomes more and more difficult to summon emotion. He goes through his everyday motions and whenever he looks into the mirror all he can see are gaunt cheekbones and dark circles underneath his eyes. He feels weary and Jimin kicks in the mirror. He pulls his snapback over his eyes, the one that Taehyung bought him and it seems like even if he’s halfway across the world there’s no stop to the constant reminder.
The frustration bubbles up inside him and Jimin slides down to the floor. He looks up at the lights (they aren’t even that bright but why do they hurt so much?) and he feels absolutely disgusted with himself. He buries his face in his hands and he can feel warm tears dropping from his eyes. Jimin rubs his eyes and gets back up to go to his room, the emptiness in his heart growing more pronounced by the second.
“You alright?” his roommate asks him when Jimin is gazing blankly at the the phone. He’s startled out of his trance to look up at the unfamiliar face and Jimin realizes he still doesn’t know his name.
“Yeah,” Jimin replies as he stares at phone still, fingers frozen over his texts. It had been an accident when he clicked on it, he likes to think that at least, and Jimin would do anything to wipe it from his mind. “Don’t worry about me, I’m okay.”
“Soulmate?” His roommate inquires as his hand lingers on the doorknob.
“Something like that,” Jimin says and his roommate is fidgeting nervously and he can tell that he’s itching to leave. “Have fun,” He tells him and emphasizes the last word, in a flash his roommate is out the door. Jimin sighs as and his finger is still hovered over the texts and he thinks back to the initial flood of texts he first received when he left, the ones from Taehyung, confused, the ones from Hoseok and Seokjin, worried and concerned, and the ones from Namjoon and Yoongi, innate and trivial messages about their upcoming mixtape yet caring all the same.
jungkook (1:02): hyung you have to come back, he needs you
When Jimin arrives in Korea he takes the taxi to his former apartment, it was never really his to begin with anyway. He stands outside on the front steps and there’s a barrier preventing him from going inside. He takes a step forward and he can just imagine Taehyung sitting inside with Jungkook, giggling and eyes crinkling. Jimin’s walls start to crumble and before he can take another step he runs the opposite directions as fast as he can.
Taking the train, Jimin arrives on Seokjin’s front step an hour later. He shifts from foot to foot as he adjusts his shoulder strap and rings the doorbell. He hears it echo inside the apartment and Jimin stumbles backwards because the door opens so quickly. Seokjin is there with an apron on, an old worn out pink one that Yoongi gave him as a joke, with arms crossed and an extremely sour expression.
“Can I-” Jimin begins to ask as he voice suddenly trembles and he breaks off. He’s never felt so lost and hopeless without a place to go. Hyosang has his hands on Seokjin’s waist as he peers curiously from his side and stares at him, unblinking. They look picturesque together, with the simple domesticity and love in their postures, and it was everything he believed he would have when his counter stopped. Jimin’s resolve dissolves and tears begins to prickle at the edges of his eyes. He wipes them away furiously and sniffs before looking back up at Seokjin once more.
Seokjin lets out a big sigh and opens his arms and brings Jimin into an embrace. Hyosang quietly pads back into their apartment as Jimin chokes back a sob as his heart remembers that it was actually shattered into millions of tiny pieces. Seokjin runs his fingers through Jimin’s hair and rubs circles in his back and squeezes him tightly. “Hey, hey,” He whispers into Jimin’s ear as he nuzzles into his neck.
“I don’t think I’m okay,” Jimin admits as he bites his lip as he wipes his eyes. He draws in a quick breath and the oxygen stings his lungs. He buries his head into Seokjin shoulder, who only sighs in response. At nineteen years, one hundred and five days, twenty-three hours, and eleven seconds Jimin feels utterly hopeless.
Jimin lies face down into Seokjin and Hyosang’s sofa (nineteen years, one hundred nine days, eleven hours, twenty minutes, fifty-four seconds) feeling utterly stupid and lost as Seokjin strokes his hand rhythmically down his back. He shivers as he clutches the pillow and he can hear Hyosang padding quietly into the room and setting a mug down onto the table.
The sofa dips when Hyosang sits next to Jimin and he can hear him quietly murmuring something to Seokjin. He pauses momentarily and shifts Jimin off his lap. Jimin whines as he rolls over to look at the two of them, Hyosang’s hand in its familiar place on Seokjin’s hip and Seokjin’s on Hyosang’s back.
“Sorry,” Seokjin comes over to stroke Jimin’s hair out of his face and bends over. “We have to leave for Hyosang’s gig tonight.”
“Do you have to?” Jimin asks and he knows he’s being selfish but with Seokjin and Hyosang around he no longer needs to listen to himself and the swirling torment of his own thoughts. “Can’t you stay a bit longer?”
Hyosang hesitates as he steps forward, a frown marring his face and Jimin remembers their hushed whispers when he had lain on Seokjin’s lap earlier in the night, pretending to be asleep as he listened to them to escape his own thoughts. “It should be fine, I’ll just tell Namjoon to cover for me.” He says as he reaches for his phone on the table.
“No, it’s alright,” Jimin blurts out before Hyosang’s fingers can even begin to unlock his phone. He peers up and gives Jimin a disbelieving look and Seokjin is opening his mouth to say something, but Jimin cuts him off, “I think I want to spend the night alone today anyway.” It’s a shame he’s not as good as lying to himself as to other people.
“Just give us a call if you need us,” Seokjin frowns as he puts on his coat, hand automatically reaching from Hyosang’s. Jimin’s heart does a little ping and he draws the pillow closer to his chest. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Jimin responds evenly, he thinks he’s gotten too good at this, as his heart begins to hammer and the old ache in his left wrist is coming back. “Have fun you guys.” Seokjin comes over to bring Jimin up for a hug before he walks out the door with Hyosang, leaving Jimin all alone in quiet emptiness.
The first thing Jimin does is turn on the television to full volume, some news channel playing in the background, and he begins to check all his messages meticulously. He scrolls through Hoseok’s recent ones, eyes skimming over the texts and he listens to his voicemail as well. Jimin plays the new song Namjoon and Yoongi had just finished composing, and he thinks that the lyrics are utterly ironic.
He finally brings himself to check Taehyung’s messages when he’s done listening to the new track seventeen times as well as playing the angry voicemails Yoongi had left (“Park fucking Jimin I know where you are why don’t you fucking answer us?”). He only gets through the first five messages before the doorbell rings.
Scampering to the front door, Jimin hopes that Hyosang and Seokjin came home early. He unlocks the door and a breeze flows through. His heart plummets when he sees Taehyung, who also looks taken aback, standing outside.
Jimin and Taehyung sit on the opposite sides of the coffee table and Taehyung is playing with the tablecloth as Jimin looks at the water stains peaking out from underneath the tablecloth. He fiddles with the hem of his shirt and he can feel his armpits turning sweaty as his heart begins to race.
“I missed you,” Taehyung murmurs quietly and Jimin sneaks a look at him. There are dark circles underneath his eyes that he doesn’t remember when he left Korea. “I missed you a lot, Jimin.”
He doesn’t say anything as his eyes run over his counter once more. “Did Seokjin tell you I was here?” He asks and his voice cracks at the very end. Jimin’s face feels hot and he feels light and dizzy and the thoughts which plagued him previously have left.
“No,” Taehyung leans forward as if to reach for him, before moving backwards once more. “He told me to come here because he wanted to give me some food for next week.”
“Not you and Jungkook?” Jimin’s mouth spits out the words with more malice than he thought he ever had. Jimin cringes as Taehyung becomes slinks down. Jimin feels himself becoming smaller and smaller and he wishes nothing more than down as to shrink into a tiny speck of dust.
“We broke up,” Taehyung mutters as his finger draws patterns into the carpet besides his sock. Jimin’s heart clammers up and maybe before when that traitorous small part of him might have felt happy he can barely process the fact and lets out a small “oh” instead. “It was a few weeks ago.”
Jimin is at a loss for words as his mind still attempts to catch up with the works “broke up.” “Oh,” he repeats once more as his heart pumps blood at a furious pace. He tilts his head to the side as the world around him unfocuses and his head feels extremely light.
“I thought you hated me,” Taehyung’s voice says distantly in the back of Jimin’s mind. He processes the words a minute later, as he continues to go on, “You didn’t respond to any of my messages and I thought I did something.”
“Sorry,” Jimin croaks as his throat turns parched and dry. (Nineteen years, one hundred and nine days, thirteen hours, twenty-six minutes, and forty-seven seconds). “I,” he struggles for the words as his heart refuses to calm down. “I just needed some time alone, I needed to get away.”
Taehyung’s face is crestfallen as he hears the words and Jimin feels guilty for inflicting this pain on him. He looks haggard and even though Seokjin and Hyosang didn’t tell him anything about Taehyung, Jimin doesn’t need to hear it to know that it was caused because of him. “I didn’t realize how important you were to me until you left,” Taehyung is looking at the ground this time, his voice faint in addition to the blood rushing in Jimin’s ears. “I didn’t realize how much I love you until you left too.”
“But what about Jungkook?” Jimin asks hollowly as he hears his own question echoing in his ears. His brain can’t form a single comprehensive thought, not since Taehyung stepped into Seokjin’s apartment a little over twenty minutes ago. “I thought you loved him.”
“I do love him,” Taehyung says and this time he’s not looking down at the floor, he’s staring straight into Jimin’s eyes, “but not the same way I love you.”
He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing up, and it’s hard to force the nothingness to go past his throat. “And what way is that?” And his mind is still a million miles away and his head is spinning, spinning, and spinning. (Nineteen years, one hundred nine days, thirteen hours, thirty-eight minutes, and fifty-six seconds). Jimin wipes his palms on his sweats and clenches his fist.
Taehyung gets up and begins to shuffle across the floor, so the two of them are face to face and their knees are touching. He can see the tremor as Taehyung puts his hands around his face and he can feel his breath as well. Jimin stares at him with open eyes before Taehyung leans in.
He feels dizzy (dizzy, dizzy, dizzy) and he can hardly remember to breathe when Taehyung presses his lips to his (one, two, three, fifty-eight seconds and counting) and they’re both staring straight at one another. Taehyung pulls back and he sits on his feet and Jimin’s heart is pounding harder than it ever has before.
“You, Taehyung, I,” Jimin shakes his head as he presses his palm against his temple. His head is throbbing and the thoughts have all flown back into this mind, scattered and confused and his chest is rising and falling too quickly. His eyes sting when he blinks. “You can’t just do something like that.”
Jimin’s lips feel numb from where Taehyung’s was resting not even a minute ago and he looks at Taehyung who’s back to drilling holes into the floor. “I’m sorry Jimin-ah,” Taehyung professes to the ugly carpet. “I love Jungkook, I love him a lot and he’s my soulmate but I didn’t realize I didn’t love him the same way I loved you until you left. I love you, Jimin.
“You can’t just pick someone me as your backup when it doesn’t work out,” Jimin laughs and it hurts his ears as his heart races at speeds he never knew were possible. “I’m not here as a second choice.”
“Jimin, I’m sorry,” Taehyung’s back goes rigid as he apologizes. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize this until it was too late, I’m sorry that I didn’t know that you were hurting all this time and I was the cause of it. I’m sorry Jimin, I’m sorry.” There’s an edge to desperation to his voice and Jimin wishes Namjoon were here, because his heart says one thing but his brain says another.
“I don’t know,” Jimin says and his heart is beating too loudly for him to think properly. “I don’t know, what if you decide that you love Jungkook again?” Jimin presses forward and he can hardly keep his eyes open, his vision is blurring too fast. “What am I supposed to do if I get hurt again?”
Taehyung leans over to interlace their hands and Jimin still can’t get used to the circles underneath his eyes. “Just because the stars said that we weren’t meant to be together doesn’t mean we can’t.” Taehyung places his other hand around Jimin’s, so Jimin’s sweaty palm is encompassed in both of his. “Can we at least try, please?”
“I don’t think I can handle a second time,” Jimin whispers as he moves so his head is leaning against Taehyung’s shoulder, a familiar position. His heart is beating faintly and by this point Taehyung can surely hear it in the otherwise silent apartment. “I’m sorry,” he whispers as the tears begin to flow and he buries his head into Taehyung’s shoulder.
“How many times have I told you, you have nothing to be sorry for Jiminie.” Taehyung’s grip on his hand tightens and he wraps his other arm around Jimin so he’s whispering into his hair. Jimin lets out a sob into Taehyung’s chest and he can feel wet drops falling onto his face that aren’t from him. “It won’t happen a second time, I promise.”
“You promise you won’t forget me this time?” Jimin asks as his heart thrums and he looks up at Taehyung nervously. His face feels disgusting like he hasn’t showered in days and his eyes are red and puffy but so are Taehyung’s. “Promise me?”
Taehyung cradles the back of his head and Jimin can feel his heart beating wildly against his. “I promise.” He says and the tears are still flowing out of their eyes. “I’ll never forget you, not ever.” And Jimin thinks that maybe, just maybe he can.
The two of them stay like that (nineteen years, one hundred and nine days, fourteen hours, six minutes, and twenty-four seconds) wrapped up in each other’s embrace. Taehyung squeezes his hand and Jimin’s heart squeezes back in response.
end.
1. jimin and taehyung do end up happily ever after
2. rapper line are in a polyamory idk if that was clear
3. this was never meant to be this long