Archive of Our Own

“Jungkook?” Jimin asks. His voice is soft and sweet, and it works lightly to lull Jungkook out of the peaceful sanctity of his dreams. He was just about to slip away, his eyes burning with fatigue.

“Yeah, Minnie?” He responds. The tiles of the area by the swimming pool are hard against his back but his head is cushioned on Jimin’s soft thigh, the other boy’s fingers running through his hair in soothing touches.

“Where do we go, from here?” He asks.

Jungkook opens his eyes.

He looks up at Jimin, at the reflections the underlit water projects on his face. His black hair that’s always neat no matter how much Jungkook roughs it up, his soft features that always remain gentle even in distress. The way Jimin looks at him, like he’s his entire world.

This time of night, he shouldn’t glow so brightly.

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asks. He lets his eyes drift to the rest of the indoor pool area they’re in, the moonlight streaming in through the skylight above, the daunting silence that surrounds them. He can see hints of the peaks of the mountains surrounding their school, dark and ominous in the night sky.

It feels like no one exists but them.

“I feel like we’ve been so wrapped up in our world.” Jimin begins, and Jungkook hangs off his every word. “That we’ve failed to realize that there’s so much beyond. That there’s more than just you and me, and the life we’ve led over the past 13 years, and I don’t think I can survive the bubble bursting.”

Jungkook stares.

“So tell me, Jungkook,” Jimin says. “Where do we go from here?”

-

The first time Jungkook sees him, he’s 5.

The train station is bustling, full of parents bidding goodbye to their children. Jungkook’s hand is tight in his mother’s, and he’s already overwhelmed. There are so many people with their luggage trolleys pushed along by uniformed porters, a young boy calling out the day’s news in a bid to sell newspapers.

Jungkook’s boarding school is in the mountains, and there’s only a single train that travels up its staggering height. He wanted nothing more than to go to a day school but his father told him that he had to go to this one, and that he would be the 4th generation of their family to study there. An institution that churns out fine young men.

Still, he waits for his turn to enter the train. He’s wearing his blazer with a patch sewn into the breast pocket, the embroidery on it reading out his name, age and class for easy identification by the faculty once he arrives.

“Mama, I don’t want to go,” Jungkook tells his mother, cheeks ruddy red and eyes brimming with tears. His small hand is tight within her grasp. It’s his turn to get on the train.

She looks at him softly, and runs a gentle hand through his hair.

“My darling.” She says. “You have to. Don’t you want to grow up to be a brilliant young man like your father?”

Jungkook nods fervently. He wants to be smart and warm like his older brother and father. He wants to be just like them.

“You’ll be happy there. We’ll still see each other during your holidays, hmm?”

That’s somehow all Jungkook’s 5-year-old brain needs to hear. He steps shakily onto the train car with the help of the conductor and lets his mother kiss his cheek.

“I’ll miss you, my love. Promise you’ll write to me.”

Jungkook nods, round-cheeked and full of resolve. The conductor leads him to his seat in an empty compartment, and Jungkook waves at his mother through the window. 

She waves back, and just as the train is about to leave, the door to his compartment opens.

It’s a small boy and he’s crying so hard he seems to shake with it. His pudgy fingers are balled into little fists and he’s bundled up in a thick coat, scarf and hat, his chubby cheeks almost bulging, dusted pink.

The conductor looks at him kindly, giving him consolatory pats on the back.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He says. “It’ll be fine. Say goodbye to your brothers.”

Jungkook watches as the boy runs toward the window, small palms pressed flat against the glass. He looks too, observing the boys and men of varying ages waving at the other boy from the train platform. They all seem much older and distinguished, and look at the small boy like he’s the apple of their eye. Some of them are big and strong like Jungkook’s brother, wearing expensive suits and fedoras, a smoking pipe or two in their grasp. The rest are clad in the typical boyish suspenders and loose trousers.

When the train starts to pull out of the station, the boy seems to cry even harder, snot dripping down his nose, face contorting into another overwrought sob. Jungkook waves at his mother, watching as the other boy’s brothers wave fervently at the youngest too.

“What’s your name?” Jungkook asks him once they’re out of the station and now well on their way, the train’s steam engine steadily taking them through the vivid countryside.

The other boy looks at him, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pocket handkerchief. He wipes his nose with it, sniffling.

“Jimin.” He manages to get out in between his dwindling sobs and Jungkook thinks he looks very funny, all heavily bundled up in his coat and scarf. It isn’t even winter yet. His lips are plump and wet, eyes wide with long eyelashes, tears suspended from them. He looks like a doll.

“Whas’ yours?” Jimin asks back, taking the liberty to sit down next to him and meld himself to his side. Jungkook looks down at his pudgy hand on the leather of the seat.

“Jungkook.” He responds, frowning at the physical contact. There’s not a single inch of space between them. “Can you move a little?”

Jimin doesn’t seem to want to.

“Why?” He asks, his lower lip jutting out.

“Because I need space, silly. You’re squishing me.” Jungkook reveals, gesturing to how he’s being pushed against the window. Deep down, he doesn’t think he minds.

“You’re mean. My brothers always let me sit close.”

“I’m not your brother. I don’t even know you.” Jungkook huffs.

Jimin doesn’t respond, instead getting up and waddling over to his little knapsack. He opens it, pulling out a thick bar of chocolate. He points it in Jungkook’s direction.

“I’ll share if you let me sit with you.”

For Jungkook’s little easily-swayed-by-sweets brain, it’s a golden deal.

Twenty minutes later, they’re both sound asleep, Jimin dozing on his shoulder. Their sticky chocolate fingers are intertwined together, something that came innately to them, and there’s even some smeared across their lips in their desperation to devour the sweet unsupervised. Jimin is still bundled into his side, his little feet clad in white bow socks, too short to reach the wooden floor of the train compartment.

They’re two stars who have just left their loving families, but have found their destinies crossed in more ways than one.

-

Jimin is a part of every waking moment of Jungkook’s life.

He often wakes up with the other boy snug in his arms, Jimin having trouble sleeping alone and taking full liberty of crawling into Jungkook’s bed. It’s okay because he always shares the sweets and toys his family sends him with him. 

Jungkook is in love with their school.

It’s a sprawling structure in the mountains, all tall towers and high gates, something like a castle. The corridors are old stone and stained windows, all the rooms lit by warm chandeliers and accented by earthy-toned carpets. 

It’s very strict, however. They have a uniform that comprises neat shirts, ties, and trousers, even for the younger children. Jimin always complains that the collar of the shirt is tight on his throat but the warden always ensures he’s wearing his uniform properly. They have strict bedtime and mealtimes, lights off at 9 pm.

Jungkook is making new friends. He’s become chummy with the children in the other classes too. Their spring semester just ended, and most of the drawings hung up on the board in the school reception are Jungkook’s. He’s proud, and tries to wallow down the irritation he feels when he sees Jimin’s signature scribbled at the bottom along with his even though he did nothing to create it. 

Jimin wants to be a part of everything he does.

He’s terribly attached, always wanting to be near him. He’d cried till the matron assigned them to the same dormitory room, and cried even more so that they could be desk-mates during their classes in the day. He pushes past people to sit near Jungkook during mealtimes, and steals Jungkook’s blanket when he comes to sleep in his bed.

Jimin misses home a lot. Jungkook is the youngest child too, but he doesn’t think he’s ever seen a child as spoiled as Jimin is. It’s clear that he’s the baby of the family and is accustomed to receiving all the attention and love in the world. He receives letters and gifts from his brothers and parents every single week and talks their ears off when they’re allowed to use the telephone on the weekends.

He’s now projecting that onto Jungkook.

He looks at Jimin right now, as they sleep in the middle of the night. Jimin always sneaks into his bed once he thinks he’s asleep because he doesn’t want Jungkook to be awake to scold him. 

Jimin’s wearing the pyjamas given to them by the school, sleep shirt riding up his soft stomach, mouth open and drooling slightly as he’s lost in his dreams. He’d mumbled something about a rocking horse a few seconds ago.

Jungkook squints at him.

They’re six years old, having just completed their spring term. Jungkook can’t wait to grow up and become like his Hyung, tall and handsome and capable.

Jimin doesn’t seem to want to grow up at all. 

He’s not interested in the toy trains and model cars the other boys flash around in the common rooms, still besotted with his stuffed rabbits and dolls that are meant for girls. Jimin’s family doesn’t seem to mind, constantly sending him whatever he fancies despite typical gender norms pertaining to what children should play with.

Jungkook hears Jimin talk to them some nights when he doesn’t let him in bed with him. He always tells them how mean Jungkook is, how funny he looks with his silly frown.

He looks at Jimin as the pale moonlight bathes his baby face, long lashes fluttering occasionally as he’s lost in his dreams. He’d told Jungkook that he saw a pegasus flying outside their dormitory window last night, even swore on it, angry tears prickling at his big eyes when Jungkook refused to believe him.

Jimin mumbles something in his sleep and rolls over, burying his face into Jungkook’s chest, wrapping his arms around him and cuddling close. His soft hair tickles his chin, his skin still a little sticky from the lavender lotion he’d excitedly applied just before bedtime, a gift from his eldest brother.

Jungkook sighs, throwing the blanket over them and trying to sleep, wondering if he could tune into Jimin’s dreams and see the pegasus too.

-

The first time it happens, Jungkook and Jimin are 9.

Jimin’s hogging their attached bath. He’s been in there for so long now that Jungkook wants to fume. It’s almost bedtime and he can’t sleep till he brushes his teeth!

“Jimin.” He groans, knocking on the wood, not too loud lest they wake the warden and get themselves an earful. The last time they woke him up, it was because Jungkook told Jimin a joke and the other laughed so loud he almost woke up the entire school.

“Wait!” Jimin insists through the door. “It’s a surprise.”

“What is?” Jungkook whines. “Jimin, I need to sleep-”

He has early morning practice tomorrow. Turns out one of their seniors is friends with his older brother and he’s willing to take the time out to show him the ropes of lacrosse. He’s very excited and wants to wake up at his best.

The door swings open, and Jungkook’s mouth drops to the ground.

Jimin stands there, hands on his waist and lipstick applied messily across his lips. It’s smearing out of his lip line and is ruby red, some kohl and glitter accentuating his eyes. There’s a tiara on his head and he’s wearing a pearl necklace. A quick look into the bathroom has Jungkook spot the cosmetics resting carefully on the window sill of their shared bathroom.

“Ta-da!” Jimin says, small hands coming up to cup his face. “What do you think?”

Jungkook can’t bring himself to form any words, surprise overtaking him entirely.

“We aren’t a-allowed makeup.” He manages to get out.

The truth is, Jimin looks nice. It suits him despite how haphazardly it’s been applied.

“My mother gave it to me for Christmas,” Jimin answers proudly. “I’ve always wanted my own set so she bought this for me. I have to be very careful so that no one takes it.”

“I-”

“You’re just jealous, Jungkook.” Jimin huffs, obviously disappointed with the lack of response. “I won’t share with you.” He adds haughtily, walking to the sleeping area and plopping down onto his bed.

Jungkook doesn’t know how to tell Jimin that he doesn’t want to wear makeup.

Still, the thought of Jimin going to sleep upset with him doesn’t bode well for his heart. He sighs, postponing the urgent need to brush his teeth.

He walks up to Jimin who is pouting on his bed.

“You look real nice, Jimin.” He relents, already expecting the way Jimin’s face lights up almost immediately. He’s so easy to please.

“Thank you.” Jimin beams, taking Jungkook’s hand in his. “Because you’re saying nice things, I’ll invite you.”

“Invite me where?” Jungkook frowns. Jimin stands up and leads him to the window, pointing at the trees outside.

On one of the branches is a family of owls, all perched carefully. Their heads twitch as they normally do, feathers fluffing and the occasional hoot or two leaving their beaks.

“They’re having a party,” Jimin says quietly as if revealing a precious secret. “I asked if I could join and they said yes.”

Jungkook stares at him. Jimin’s always been awfully imaginative, excelling in his story writing classes and art lessons. 

Despite how colourful his mind seems to be, Jimin doesn’t seem very hassled about making friends or trying to become popular. 

He’s happy as he is and openly talks about how Jungkook is his best friend in the whole wide world. He writes to his family about Jungkook too.

Still, Jungkook goes along with it. He attends the party with Jimin, and they eat lots of his sugar-cheese crackers and candy that he’d procured for the event. They then run around and play tag, Jungkook chasing Jimin around the room till the other boy crashes from the sugar rush and passes out on his bed, tiara lopsided on his hair.

As Jungkook wipes off his makeup for him and takes off his necklace and tiara, he thinks about how it’s totally understandable why his family is so smitten with him. Jimin is adorable, and as much as he’s never admitted it, he’s never been immune to his charms.

The other day, Jungkook scored the highest in class and Jimin stood up and clapped for him. He did it unhesitatingly, so eager and excited to show his support and love. He always shares all his gifts and sweets with him.

As Jungkook crawls into Jimin’s bed once he’s finally brushed his teeth and cleared up the mess of candy wrappers and biscuit crumbs on the floor, he thinks about how happy he is to be Jimin’s best friend.

-

As the years go by, Jimin continues to experiment with makeup in the safety of their room. He gets better at it each time, practice making perfect. 

Jungkook never bats an eye, simply watching as Jimin perfects a cat eye in their mirror or dabbles into mascara. Jimin even tried to go to class one morning all done up but he’d stopped him. People already talk enough about Jimin being a silly recluse who doubles up as his best friend, and he doesn’t want to hear more conversations.

The previous week, one of Jimin’s brothers visited him. He’d taken the train up and it was a surprise, one arranged with Jungkook’s help through careful letters sent back and forth over the past month. It had been tough enough hiding them from Jimin, but the look on his face when they were reunited was enough to justify all the effort.

Jungkook watched as Jimin jumped into his brother’s arms, so happy he was almost vibrating. The expensive-looking brother that Jungkook only previously identified through excellent and fancy handwriting over handmade paper, all in the flesh. He stood tall in a nice tailored suit, arms full of gifts for his youngest brother, looking every bit like what Jungkook wants to become when he grows up.

He’s the one that’s always busy according to Jimin. He’s never home when he visits during the holidays, always away on work. Now, he’s made time to come see him.

Jimin’s brother had bought Jungkook a few gifts too. A nice expensive model car and a fancy crosse because Jimin keeps telling him how good he is at the sport. Jimin’s family must be influential because the warden greets his brother with a wide smile, allowing him into their room where Jimin excitedly shows him his makeup and the owls outside their window.

There’s nothing but fondness in his eyes as he looks at him. 

Jungkook realizes for the first time why Jimin is the way he is. He’s loved unconditionally by his family and has found safety in Jungkook too. He would never judge Jimin for not liking the things typical boys do, and he’s endlessly glad that the safe space extends to his family too, who seem to see their youngest as the sun they orbit around.

Right when Jimin’s brother is about to leave, after they ate and he tucked Jimin into bed, he speaks to Jungkook.

“Thank you for looking after our Jimin, Jungkook.” He says, just as he ruffles his hair. “You’re his entire world. You’ll grow up to be a fine young man.”

His chest swells with pride at his words.

Jungkook bids him goodbye, watching as he disappears into the car called to drive him to the station. 

Jimin lives in a bubble where all that matters is him, his makeup, his toys, his family and his Jungkook.

Jungkook won’t ever let it burst.

-

When they’re 13, Jungkook loses his first game. The scores were neck-and-neck with the other school’s, but his aim was off and he missed the goal. The sinking in his stomach almost hurt, the frustration sinking deep down into his bones.

Jungkook’s teammates weren’t mad. He received lots of friendly pats on the back, everyone telling him that it’s fine and that they’ll do better next time. Even Jimin runs onto the pitch, hugging him tightly, wiping away the frustrated tears that roll down his cheeks.

“It’s fine, Jungkook. You did so well. You’ll win next time, I know you will.”

Still, Jungkook feels hollow. It’s a crushing mix of embarrassment and disappointment.

He floats through the rest of his day and his afternoon classes, letting Jimin pull him into bed once the lights go out at 9 pm.

Turns out, his day isn’t over.

“Jungkook.” He hears his name whispered into his ear.

“Mmh?” He grunts out, mind hazy from sleep. His hand curls around Jimin’s waist instinctively, and he already knows that the other boy is smiling. The bed is so soft and warm. He just wants to go back to sleep, thinks he was having a nice dream too.

“Wake up,” Jimin says into his ear. “Let’s have a midnight feast.”

“A what?” Jungkook asks, confused and drowsy. He forces himself to open his eyes, coming face to face with Jimin who looks wide awake. His heart thunders the way it’s recently started to at their proximity but he keeps it to himself.

“A midnight feast,” Jimin repeats. “Let’s go somewhere and eat lots of snacks. I made sandwiches and saved some swiss rolls from today’s tea. The chocolate ones, your favourite.”

Jungkook’s tummy rumbles. He didn’t eat much for dinner. 

He lets Jimin pull him out of bed and comb his hair, even letting him arrange the woolly sweater he’d knitted over his frame. He manages to wake fully during the dressing process and puts on his slippers.

They open their door carefully and sneak through the hallways, their hands intertwined tightly and footsteps feather-light. All the food and the rolled-up blanket Jimin’s packed are in his backpack, and Jungkook wonders how long the other boy has been planning this.

Jimin takes him to the indoor pool that’s out of bounds until they turn 15. Jungkook’s a little worried because he knows the other boy can’t swim, but relaxes when Jimin arranges the blanket over the floor several feet away from the edge of the pool.

“We’re having a picnic by the lake,” Jimin says, taking out all of the food and placing it over the fleece. “You always said you wanted to go. I can’t take you to an actual lake but I thought this might work to help cheer you up.”

Jungkook stares at him, throat heavy.

Jimin giggles. “Come sit.” He says, patting the space on the blanket next to him.

Jungkook nods, settling down. They eat their jam sandwiches quietly barring Jimin’s sweet absent-minded humming, their thighs pressed together.

“Are you feeling better now?” The other boy asks softly in the middle of their meal.

“I don’t know. I think so.” Jungkook says. This little adventure, a break in monotony has helped ease some of the weight boring down on his chest. But he still feels bad.

He isn’t prepared for the way Jimin surges forward and plants a soft kiss on his lips, pulling back just as quickly, a giddy smile on his face.

“How about now?”

Jungkook’s face flames.

“J-Jimin!” He almost screams, slapping a hand over his mouth. “You can’t do that!”

“Why not?” Jimin frowns.

“You’re only supposed to do things like that with someone you like. Not me!” Jungkook rushes out, his heart beating loudly in his ears. He’s pretty sure his face is as red as a beet.

“But I like you.” Jimin pouts. “I like you more than anyone. You’re my favourite person in the entire world.”

Jungkook stares.

“You like me too, right?” Jimin asks.

“No,” Jungkook responds, immediately regretting it when he sees Jimin’s face fall. “I d-don’t like you like that. We’re friends. Friends don’t kiss each other.”

Jimin is silent for a few seconds, his plump bottom lip that Jungkook has been trying not to stare at caught between his teeth.

“Okay.” He eventually nods. “I’m sorry.”

Jimin is a little quiet for the rest of the night. 

Jungkook tries to change the topic, talk about other things he knows the other boy is passionate about, but it doesn’t work. Jimin interrupts him mid-sentence and says he’s tired. They fold up the blanket silently and walk back to their room, Jimin going to sleep without another word.

He doesn’t crawl into Jungkook’s bed, and all that’s visible of him for the remainder of the night is a tuft of his black hair that peeks out of his blanket.

Jungkook tells himself that doesn’t hear any light sniffling from across the room.

Years later, Jungkook will think back to this night and wonder what would’ve been if he’d reacted differently, given in to the warmth that blooms in his heart whenever he does so much as look at Jimin. Whether it would’ve changed the course of their future.

The next morning, Jimin is back to normal, like nothing happened at all.

-

“How’s school, son?” Jungkook’s father asks at the head of the dinner table. He’d just arrived home, today being the first day of their winter break. 

“Fine, dad,” Jungkook responds as he digs into the large meal his mother prepared. “I’m studying well and spending all my free time at lacrosse practice.”

“And your friends? I’m sure you’re socializing.” His brother asks, aware of the large set of friends Jungkook has cultivated over the past years. He’s friends with almost everyone, from the people in the science club to his lacrosse team to even some of the seniors.

“I’ve made lots of new friends this year. We’re planning on proposing a trip to a nearby farm during our summer term. I’m even thinking of running for student council.”

Jungkook works hard to be the ideal son.

“How’s that Park boy doing?” His father asks.

Jimin is away on a family vacation. Jungkook doesn’t have many details, just that he and his family have tickets for a ship that’s taking them somewhere wonderful. Jimin promised to write.

“He’s doing fine.” Jungkook answers.

“You would do well to be in his good books, son.” His father says. “The Park family is powerful. That boy could turn into a golden ticket for your future.”

“They’re best friends, sweetheart.” His mother informs.

“Good.” His father agrees.

The rest of the dinner is warm with the comfort you only find with family. 

It’s been a day since he’s seen Jimin, and his heart aches with the knowledge that the other boy is on a ship heading somewhere he isn’t.

-

Things start to change once they turn 15.

Jimin is suddenly quite popular.

Over the past few years, Jungkook has changed. He’s grown much taller, his shoulders are broader and his voice has dropped substantially. He’s had to change uniform sizes continually for around 3 months now.

Jimin, however, has experienced a different type of change. It’s more subtle, not as jarring.

His voice has dropped too but it isn’t very deep. It’s not high-pitched and childish either as it used to be, rather smooth and pleasant, like silk. He’s remained petite, all slim ankles and wrists, narrow shoulders. There’s barely any facial and body hair and he spends more time playing with the shaving cream than actually doing any grooming. He’s lost almost all the baby fat he had, no more tummy pudge and chubby hands. He still has his soft cheeks, and he’s grown tall enough for you to know that he isn’t a child anymore.

Most importantly, he seems to have bypassed the embarrassing stage of pimples and dull skin. His skin glows as if permanently bathed by sunlight, hair shiny and silky. He’s extremely captivating, the type where you can’t take your eyes off him, almost like a doll. There’s an allure of grace to everything he does.

He’s beautiful, always has been, and Jungkook is no longer the only one who has noticed. The difference that took place in him over the summer seems to have turned the tide greatly in his favour.

There are boys. Everywhere.

Seniors, juniors, people in their grade. All rushing to do favours for him, carry his bags to and from class, open doors for him, save him seats and the desserts that always run out during Friday dinners. 

Jimin is pretty, and his charms have now rendered everyone susceptible.

On Valentine’s Day, Jungkook woke up to a train of boys outside their room door. All of them with arms full of chocolates and roses and teddy bears, all for Jimin who was busy staining his lips with a raspberry tint before class.

Jimin is too sweet to say no. He spends all his days busy, accepting invitations for evening strolls on the campus grounds, visiting the stargazing tower with someone else for a night visit. Plus, he seems overjoyed to be making so many friends. He helps tutor many juniors and spends so much time with people who aren’t him.

It’s bitter for Jungkook. 

He can’t help but feel like he isn’t Jimin’s world anymore. 

People have realized that Jimin lives to talk, and to give, and to love, and everyone wants to be under his umbrella. 

“Finally back, huh?” Jungkook asks Jimin once he enters their room at 9:30 pm, skipping in.

Jimin nods, cheeks pink.

“I had to help Junhui with some of his algebra homework.” He answers. “Poor thing, he couldn’t understand any of it-”

“Junhui is at the top of his class. He’s lying to spend more time with you.” Jungkook says brusquely, getting back to his own homework. He bores holes into the book on his desk, having, in reality, finished all of his work and studies hours ago. It was an excuse he’d carefully devised to justify waiting for Jimin to return.

“You’re too hard on him,” Jimin responds softly, plopping down on his bed and slipping off his shoes. The only light in the room is from Jungkook’s desk, and the sombre glow accentuates Jimin’s beauty in a way that shouldn’t be possible.

When did he start feeling this way around Jimin? 

He always has, in some way, but it’s glaringly overt now in a way he can’t avoid.

Jungkook averts his eyes as Jimin pulls off his sweater, wanting to keep himself from staring at his bare skin. He wants to slap himself for the way his cheeks burn, jaw clenched.

Jimin disappears into the bathroom, and the heady scent of vanilla wafts out from under the door and into their room a few minutes later. He’s obviously relaxing after a long day with a bubble bath. Jimin only uses the finest products and doesn’t compromise at all when taking care of himself. 

Jungkook sighs in his study chair, posture slumping.

What if he needed help with his homework? Jimin wouldn’t even know, what with him running off and helping every other heart-eyed boy who looks at him.

Jimin never wanted to grow up. Why has he now, and why has the change proved to be dangerous for Jungkook’s heart and mind?

Jungkook jumps when the bathroom door opens, clouds of sweet steam dissipating into the air of their room. He must’ve lost track of time in between his thoughts about losing grasp of Jimin’s attention.

Jimin is already dressed in his nightclothes, the soft cotton hanging loose off his lithe frame. He crawls into bed and goes to sleep after mumbling a soft good night, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts.

Jungkook turns off his lamp almost viciously, putting his books back on the shelf and settling into bed.

He stares at Jimin who is fast asleep across the room, done with his rather eventful day. 

It’s not that Jimin doesn’t have time for him. Not at all. Jimin still prioritizes him and sits next to him during meals and classes. He still checks up on Jungkook often and shows up to all his games to cheer him on. They still spend time together in their room, sharing sweets that Jimin never grew out of and imported board games.

It’s just that Jungkook is having a hard time sharing him, and their bond that he felt was exclusive only to them.

It hurts that Jimin doesn’t feel the hollow as much as he does.

-

Jungkook, after years, finally succeeds in getting their class a field trip to the nearby blueberry farm on the other side of the mountain. All of the irrigation is from the nearby crystal water lake and all the berries grow organically without any additives.

He argued that the trip would be brilliant to raise awareness about grassroot communities and boost healthy eating. Not at all because blueberries are Jimin’s new fancy, the other boy always enjoying them whenever he can.

Still, they go. 

Jimin receives lots of requests to sit with others during the bus journey but chooses Jungkook. He slides into the window seat he saved for him, already lifting the seat divider and curling into his side.

Jungkook looks at all the other boys on the bus, taking in their congealed disappointment.

He does a poor job of hiding his smirk when he sees a dismayed Junhui who’d evidently procured lots of snacks and confectionery for the two of them to enjoy during the journey.

Jimin gets motion sickness very easily, so Jungkook urges him to sleep. In all the years they’ve returned to school together after their holidays, Jimin has always slept to wallow down the nausea crawling at him during the winding train tracks up the mountains. 

Jimin sleeps with his head resting on Jungkook’s shoulder and he takes the liberty to intertwine their fingers, not willing to figure out why his heart beats so much faster at the sight of Jimin’s hand in his. It’s a sight he’s seen for over a decade yet it still blindsides him, making him feel like he’s in a sunny spot in a vivid sunflower field.

Jungkook, when no one is looking, presses his nose to Jimin’s hair. It’s so soft and smells like strawberries. Even the palm of his hand is soft, lathered in some hand-creme. He looks at the pout of his pink lips into a little beak as he sleeps, jutting out slightly. Jimin is so soft, and he’s safe and kind and happy.

He’s Jungkook’s best friend. Not anyone else’s.

Jungkook doesn’t move even the slightest bit so that Jimin doesn’t wake up. He bends his free arm in an awkward angle to keep the other boy’s head from lolling when they take sharp turns, wanting to keep him on his shoulder and avoid his head knocking into the window. He even holds his hand over Jimin’s eyes so that the honeyed sun doesn’t wake him up.

When the view turns stunning, that’s when he decides to rouse him from his little nap.

“Jimin,” Jungkook calls softly, lips pressed to his hair. His name shouldn’t taste so sweet on his tongue.

“Mmmh,” Jimin says in his sleep, seemingly not done just yet with his nap.

“Don’t you want to see something so beautiful it’s almost a painting?”

“Am I going to open my eyes and see your face?” Jimin teases, still seeming drowsy, eyes still closed.

“You see it every day. C’mon, I don’t know when we’ll come here again.”

Jimin’s eyes flutter open, and there’s a soft gasp that leaves his lips. Their bus is currently on a winding road that leads down to a green valley, full of blueberry plantations and the crystal lake that only adds to the beauty. 

“Wow,” Jimin says out loud, fingers gripping Jungkook’s hand tighter.

His chest shouldn’t swell so much with pride at making Jimin happy.

The rest of the journey moves quickly, and they arrive sooner than Jungkook would’ve liked them to. Jimin is wide awake now and wastes no time sliding past him and skipping out of the bus, eager to see the beauty outside in its entirety.

Jungkook follows behind, his breath catching when Jimin turns around to look at him, the breeze flowing through his hair, skin glowing and eyes bright. He smiles, and it does something to Jungkook’s heart.

He’s so beautiful that he takes Jungkook’s breath away, wears his heart down to something feeble.

It’s broken soon enough.

Junhui appears by Jimin’s side, asking if they can explore together. Jimin readily agrees, flashing him a blinding smile, looping their arms together and leading him through the green path leading up to the farm.

Jungkook’s jaw is clenched for the entire trip.

This was supposed to be for them. Not for Jimin and some other boy. He was supposed to be by Jimin’s side as they toured the estate and listened to the guide. It was supposed to be them picking blueberries together, sharing a woven basket. He’s the one to whom Jimin should teasingly feed a freshly-picked blueberry, be privy to his gentle demeanour and kind smiles, airy laughs and ability to lighten up even the darkest corners of the world.

“Hey, you okay?” One of Jungkook’s other friends asks, nudging him with a friendly elbow. 

“Yeah,” Jungkook responds, irritation bubbling up in his gut as Junhui’s friend approaches Jimin too, telling him a joke and snaking an arm around his shoulder to stabilize him as he stumbles a little during a particularly enjoyable laugh.

Jungkook is slowly realizing that he isn’t anything special in Jimin’s life.

He always thought that he would have to protect Jimin because he’s different. That people would be mean to him because he strays from the typical norms, both physically as well as in his stature and the way he carries himself. That people would ridicule him for straying away from sports and for loving animals and stuffed toys, a few of which still remain his bed for him to cuddle while he sleeps. That he’d be thought of as heinous for his love of makeup and dressing in clothes that stray toward femininity. 

That Jungkook would be the only one to be his safety bubble.

He’s never been more wrong.

Everyone loves Jimin. They love him for how smart, fun and gentle he is. They think he’s beautiful and everyone seems to naturally gravitate toward him. No one holds it against him or thinks less of his value, no matter how different he is.

Jungkook feels like he’s been phased out.

He won’t label it as jealousy, because that would imply feelings he isn’t ready to process at this moment.

Jimin excuses himself from the group to go refill his water bottle. Junhui immediately says that he needs to fill his too, and they skip off somewhere away from the crowd.

Jungkook keeps track of how long they’re gone. Even when they’re given fresh blueberry juice and tarts for tea time, he’s thinking of what they’re doing and why they haven’t returned.

When it crosses the 10-minute mark, Jungkook gets up to investigate.

There’s a sense of dread in his chest. He’s afraid of what he’ll see. 

Jungkook walks around the farmhouse, under the rapidly darkening sky that’s a sombre shade of indigo. He follows what he remembers to be the directions to the taps, jaw clenched and hands balled into fists.

The first thing he hears is conversation.

“We should head back,” Jimin says, and Jungkook can hear the ever-present smile on his face in his words.

There’s silence for a few seconds.

“But I want to chat some more-” Junhui says.

“We’ve been chatting for the entire day now, silly. As pretty as the taps are, I’d like to head back to everyone else. We can keep talking as we walk.”

Jungkook peeks around the corner. Junhui looks like he’s gearing himself up to say something.

“Jimin.”

“Hmm?”

“I want to be alone with you.”

Jungkook can see from Jimin’s face that the puzzle pieces haven’t fallen into place just yet.

“We can hang out back at school!” He says cheerfully.

“No, I-I-”

Jimin waits patiently for him to dole out his sentence, head tilted curiously. 

“I like you,” Junhui says, surging forward and placing a chaste kiss onto Jimin’s lips.

Jungkook’s feet move before his mind does. 

He stalks toward them and shoves Junhui a few feet back.

“What are you doing?” He spits, grabbing his collar. “You think you can touch him?”

Junhui looks deathly afraid. Jungkook is much stronger than he used to be, and a lot of people are intimidated by him. He’s earned himself the position of captain of the lacrosse team, and he dedicates an hour to exercise every day after class.

“Jungkook, stop it!” Jimin glares, trying to pull them apart. He pries Jungkook’s fingers off Junhui’s collar one by one, moving him back a few steps with gentle hands on his shoulders.

Jungkook doesn’t respond, glaring daggers into Junhui’s frame. He’s never been the violent or aggressive type and the change was almost involuntary. He couldn’t control it, the anger rising through him at the sight of them kissing, even if it was just a simple peck.

“Go back. I’ll come soon.” Jimin tells him. “Give us some privacy to talk.”

“I’m not leaving without you. You either come back with me right now or I’m waiting here till you do.” Jungkook says stiffly.

Jimin stares at him, eventually sighing. He turns to look at Junhui.

“Junhui….I’m sorry.” He starts and he sounds genuinely apologetic. The other boy’s face falls immediately. Jungkook barely bites back a smirk.

“You’re a very close friend of mine, and I always enjoy your company.” Jimin continues, wringing his fingers together. “I’d like to stay that way. Friends don’t kiss each other, right?”

Friends don’t kiss each other

The sentence rings in Jungkook’s mind over and over.

Junhui sighs, posture slumping.

“No, Jimin. I guess not. I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

“It’s fine, Junhui. I’m sorry too. Can we still hang out?”

“No,” Jungkook says immediately. Jimin elbows him in the ribs.

“Of course we can.” Junhui nods and he looks embarrassed, sheepish.

The walk back to the rest of the class is awkward and stilted. Jungkook has an arm around Jimin’s shoulders, telling Junhui to speed up and go ahead without them.

“You were so rude to him.” Jimin scolds lightly.

“I had to be,” Jungkook frowns. “He actually thought he could-”

“What if I liked it, huh?” Jimin asks. “What if I did?”

Jungkook pauses, looking at him.

“I-”

“Don’t act like it matters to you.” Jimin says quietly before shrugging Jungkook’s arm off and walking ahead.

Jimin doesn’t sit next to him on the bus ride home.

-

“Oh look, Seonjung’s gonna confess.” Jungkook hears one of his teammates say, and he looks up from where he’s sitting on the pitch.

It’s fall and the browning leaves of the trees surrounding their campus cascade down onto the lawns and campus grounds. There’s a cold draft of wind in the air, and Jungkook has spotted the mountains peaking white for a while now. The grey sky makes the structure of the large school appear even larger, almost like something mystical, old stone dotted with the odd warm window and look-see into the students’ lives.

Jungkook’s eyes fall to where Jimin is seated under a tall willow tree across the field, leaning against the heavy bark, a book in his grasp.

It shouldn’t be possible, but Jimin is growing more beautiful each day. The approaching cold has his cheeks and tip of his button nose always flushed a pretty pink, along with the ends of his fingers, knuckles, knees and elbows. Not that Jungkook is looking to notice. His lips are pink too, and his soft features are contorted into thought, probably in the midst of the imaginary world conjured up while reading his novel.

Jungkook watches as Seonjung approaches Jimin, sheepish and arms held behind his back. Yet another hopeless fool.

Many people have professed their love to Jimin already, only to be kindly turned down. 

Jungkook doesn’t know why they bother to keep trying. Jimin doesn’t seem to be interested in anyone like that, and they’re all just wasting their time.

Still, there’s an edge of fear that blankets Jungkook. What if this time, Jimin returns the feelings? What if this is the one that Jimin likes back?

Jungkook watches, eyes hard and breath bated, his grip tight on the wooden handle of his crosse.

Seonjung approaches Jimin and politely announces his presence, stiffening once Jimin looks up at him with a gentle smile on his face, inquiring. Even Jungkook’s heart skips a beat.

He watches as Jimin’s features melt into something apologetic as Seonjung speaks to him, and he stands up once he’s done talking. He takes Seonjung’s hands in his and talks to him gently.

Jungkook releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding when Seonjung’s posture slumps, face desolate. Still, Jimin gives him a warm hug, probably thanking him for his kind words and trying to make him feel better about the inevitable rejection.

They part after that, and Seonjung gives Jimin a shaky nod and a limp wave before he walks away.

Another day that Jimin is still his.

-

“Am I still your best friend?” Jungkook asks one day.

The question is random and seems out of place considering they’re both deep into their books for their upcoming exams. Jimin sets his pen down and looks up at him.

“Of course you are.” He responds. “Why do you ask?”

“You’re always short with me. And I know I’ve been overbearing these past few weeks-”

“Jungkook. We’ve been best friends since we were 5. A few silly arguments won’t change that. I’ve just been a little distant because I thought that that’s what you wanted.”

“Why would I want that?” Jungkook balks, turning around in his chair to face him. It’s awfully silent this time of night - no raucous laughter of the boys next door or hushed conversations in the corridor. It’s just them, in their room tucked into the corner of the long stone dormitory hallway, before their windows that look out into snowy mountain ranges, a word isolated.

“You never liked me being too close, remember? Ever since we were young.” Jimin elaborates, voice stable. “You would always scold me when I’d sneak into your bed so I stopped that.”

“But-but-”

“We’re friends, right? We do what friends do. We still spend time together. What is it that you feel is missing?”

Jungkook is speechless. He doesn’t know what to say.

“Well?” Jimin asks. Even though they’re having a conversation that’s serious, Jimin’s tone is still gentle and stable, like they’re simply chatting. Jungkook stares at him, at his fluffy hair that’s slightly mussed from the way he’s been running his hands through it unconsciously while studying. His sleep shirt is pulled low to expose his collarbones and his face is bare, features soft and delicate, not as perfect as they are when he has makeup on. But Jimin is always perfect.

Jungkook loses track of time and Jimin loses patience.

The other boy sighs, pressing his books shut and turning off his desk lamp. He settles into bed without another word, throwing his blanket over himself and retiring for the night.

Jungkook has had enough. 

He shuts his books too, turning off all the lights and walking over to the other boy’s bed. He slides in under the soft sheets, pressing up behind Jimin and wrapping his arms around his waist. The smaller boy stiffens.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

“This is what’s missing,” Jungkook answers, pressing his nose to Jimin’s hair and breathing in his natural scent. It’s so comforting, their little bubble.

“We aren’t kids anymore. Do you really want to share a bed with me?” Jimin asks quietly, yet his hand comes down to rest over Jungkook’s where they’re clasped over his tummy.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Jungkook responds. “Plus, it’s cold. We could use the extra warmth.”

His heart is soaring, being so close. Being able to indulge himself this way.

Nobody else can experience this, have Jimin like this.

It’s all his.

Jimin doesn’t respond although he settles back against his chest, and the way Jungkook brushes his lips along the line of his neck is almost involuntary.

Neither of them comments on it, and Jungkook doesn’t remember when he falls asleep, just that he’s never felt so relaxed.

-

Jimin wants to be an engineer. 

When they’re sixteen bordering on seventeen, their classes are divided, and Jimin opts to join the science faculty. That means that he’ll be leaving Jungkook behind who has opted to go into business to help his father and brother.

Jungkook hasn’t ever walked into class and not seen Jimin seated next to the chair that’s his, books and stationery already out. He’s never seen it, and never thought he would have to.

Times are changing, and they’re growing. 

Jungkook finds himself yearning to go back in time. To return to when it would just be him and Jimin falling asleep and waking up together, going to the same arts & crafts lessons, lunchtimes and playtimes in the afternoon.

Not this. 

Jungkook foolishly confides in his friend Taesuk about his conflicting feelings regarding change. He ends up receiving the cold, hard-hitting truth.

“It’s just going to keep changing now. We’re graduating in two years, and we’ll all probably be in different cities in the real world. It’s not going to be like it is now; waking up and spending every waking moment together.” The other boy says, relaying their reality.

Jungkook can’t stand hearing it. It hurts.

Even back in the mainland, Jimin and him stay miles apart. Jungkook’s family lives in a decent-sized home in the main city. Jimin’s family stays in a palatial estate up in the hills, where only the richest families do. It would be a 2-hour drive.

It was always okay because they’d be together in school. Always. School doesn’t change.

Except it is, and their time is running short.

In a few years, this world won’t exist any longer. It’ll just be fond memories, nothing tangible for Jungkook to see, feel, hear and touch.

Jungkook holds Jimin a little tighter that night, keeping his eyes wide open and memorizing everything he can see and feel. The view from the dorm window, the mountains, the warm old bed, the sight of their desks and cosy room bathed by moonlight. The bathroom door they both fight to get to first in hopes of taking a shower, its counters and cabinets chock full of Jimin’s products neatly arranged.

Most importantly, the boy in his arms. Sweet Jimin, who is always happy with what he has. He’s kind, funny and smart. Jungkook presses his nose to his neck, breathing in the scent of his lotion, letting his arms span tightly around his narrow waist. The feeling of their legs tangled together under the blanket, the sight of Jimin’s soft face blanked out from sleep, the way his lips swell in the early mornings.

Jungkook doesn’t know if he has the strength to let go.

-

There’s a new transfer student.

His name is Kim Namjoon, and everybody likes him. Not because he’s loud and sporty, but because he’s just very nice. He’s large and kind with a warm smile, all tan skin and broad shoulders. Like a gentle giant. He moved schools because his mother got a new job, and comes from a working-class family on a scholarship.

Jimin and him meet in a peculiar way.

They’re eating lunch in the dining hall and Namjoon is walking past them on his way to his own table. He trips over seemingly nothing, as he seems to do often, and ends up toppling the bowl of soup on his tray all over Jimin’s clothes. He falls too, his cutlery and beverage clattering to the ground along with his sturdy frame.

The first thing Jimin does is help him up, call for the janitor and some tissues to help clean the mess on the floor and their clothes. Namjoon apologizes profusely but Jimin laughs it off with a kind smile, not the least bit miffed. 

Jungkook watches as they interact. 

The way they seem to get along almost instantly, simply clicking together. Namjoon seems surprised that Jimin isn’t mad, but that’s probably because this is his first time meeting him.

Turns out Namjoon has opted for science subjects too.

Turns out he needs some help working through the syllabus he’s missed so far.

Turns out Jimin just happens to have a clear schedule, all crescent-eyed smiles and bunched-up cheeks as he readily agrees to help Namjoon through his studies.

Turns out Jimin doesn’t even realize that he’s walking away with Namjoon back to class once he’s changed, leaving Jungkook alone at the lunch table.

-

The changes are slow yet loud.

Suddenly, Namjoon is all Jimin can talk about. They’ve become dear friends over the past few months.

Namjoon is so kind

Namjoon is so smart

Namjoon is so funny and gentle

“You won’t believe what Namjoon did yesterday-”

“Let me guess.” Jungkook, now 17, interrupts Jimin. “You were hanging out and he did something so precious and adorable that you combusted into a squirmy pile of giggles.”

“Close, but not quite there.” Jimin smiles. “He asked me to spend summer break with him.”

Jungkook falls silent.

“What?”

Namjoon is poor. He doesn’t have a palatial vacation home or the money for a trip abroad. It doesn’t make sense.

“Yes! He has some extended family in the next province. They’re farmers. I’ve always wanted to visit the country and when he heard, he invited me!” Jimin explains excitedly, cheeks bunching up in a wide grin.

“Jimin.” Jungkook starts. “It’s not going to be just cute cottages and chubby cows and baby chicks. It’s going to be scorching, and you might even have to share a bed. Farms are messy too.”

“What do you think I’m made of, glass?” Jimin snorts.

Jungkook wants to say yes. He wants to say yes so badly but he knows it’ll upset him. Jimin hasn’t worked a day in his life and has never known anything less than the finest luxury. He’s scared of bugs and squirms away from messes, never taking a bath with water that isn’t the perfect temperature for his skin as recommended by his family dermatologist. Everyone treats him like the sun they revolve around, and Jimin is so out of touch with reality that he doesn’t know anything about the concept of financial troubles or there not being enough food on the table.

Jungkook doesn’t respond.

Luckily, Jimin’s family immediately turns down his request to join Namjoon during the holidays. They don’t give in even when Jimin pouts and whines into the phone. Instead, they propose a trip to their beach home.

Jimin’s family is protective and strict, but they’re also kind. They can’t bear to see their youngest unhappy.

They arrive at a good bargain. Jimin stays with his family, but he’s allowed to bring Namjoon too if he wants.

Jungkook can’t let that happen. He immediately writes a letter to his own family, letting them know that he too will be spending the summer break with the Park family by the coast. His mother is heartbroken but his father approves readily.

He can’t let Namjoon and Jimin be alone together for 5 weeks. He’s already stealing Jimin from him, and what if he becomes his new best friend?

He’s also a little hurt because they’ve never spent a holiday together before. Why didn’t he think of it earlier?

Jungkook can’t fall behind. He can’t help but feel like this is a competition and that Namjoon is out to get him, even though the other boy has been nothing short of kind and warm to him.

Still, Jimin is overjoyed to hear that Jungkook is joining even though he’d invited himself. He hugs him tightly, pressing a wet kiss to his cheek, squirming with excitement in the safety of his arms.

-

Jungkook has never met Jimin’s father before. 

He’s caught glimpses of his brothers, occasionally his mother, whenever they arrive to pick Jimin up from the train station. Jimin gets most of his features from his mother.

Jimin’s father is tall, warm and kind. It’s clear that he loves his family a lot, standing all important and domineering at the entrance of the Park holiday home. He’s wearing a suit and his hair is greying, a long smoking pipe in his hands. Almost all of Jimin’s family smokes. Jimin has said that he doesn’t ever want to.

In the late 1920s, Jimin’s father started his very own steel plant after years of slaving as a miner. 17 years later, he’s one of the most influential people in the country. He grew to be immensely successful and now has plants and factories all over. His employees are known to be happy and well looked after, and he’s one of the few who believes in sustainability. He’s charitable too, and Jungkook understands why Jimin is so giving.

Of his 7 children, it’s clear that Jimin is his favourite.

He greets both Namjoon and Jungkook with firm handshakes, giving his son a warm hug and a kiss on his forehead. The rest of his family seems overjoyed as well.

The house is massive. It’s a huge beach-front villa, 3 stories over a wide estate with their own private coastline. The interior is all bright crystal chandeliers, painted tiles and spiralling marble staircases, the rooms large and spacious with views of the sparkling water. It feels like reality is altered here.

They’re immediately given a delicious meal to eat, and Jungkook falls asleep later into the night. Maybe he sneaks into Jimin’s bed, not realizing in its entirety how the tables have turned.

-

The holiday is nice.

They spend most of their days on the beach, playing in the water and running across the fine sand. Namjoon knows how to drive so they go down to the nearby town sometimes, visiting the shops and pigging out on street food they never have to pay for. The amount of luxury is beyond comprehension for Jungkook.

Evenings, it’s usually game night with the family. Jimin’s father owns rare game sets for chess, checkers, backgammon, ludo, poker and so many more. He teaches Jungkook and Namjoon how to play every night after dinner, and denies their requests each time for a sip of whiskey because they’re underage.

Jungkook realizes, slowly and all at once, that it’s very difficult to hate Namjoon.

He’s extremely friendly, albeit clumsy. He’s gentle too. They’d done some painting the other day and Namjoon had created some cute animals on a farm, all soft colours and delicate lining. Jimin swooned, not paying Jungkook’s own sun-bathed horizon a single wink of attention.

He also knows that Namjoon’s feelings toward Jimin go beyond friendship. He sees it in the way he looks at him, how his body posture is always inclined toward Jimin, arms always coming up to stabilize him whenever he runs across shaky sand. How he always burns red when Jimin teasingly feeds him a bite of his food, a smile on his face and a sparkle in his eye whenever he looks at him. 

One time, he wakes up in the middle of the night.

The space next to him on the bed is empty, Jimin’s side neatly made and the pillow fluffed up. It’s cold, which means he’s been gone for a while. He hasn’t complained about Jungkook being clingy and insisting on sharing a bed so far.

Jungkook stands up on legs that feel like lead, aching and heavy after their long day of fun and frolic. They’d taken the boat out today and gone swimming. At least, Jungkook and Namjoon did. Jimin chose to sunbathe without a shirt on the deck, and Jungkook tried his hardest not to stare.

He walks out of Jimin’s room, feet pattering across the marble floors. Namjoon’s room is empty too. Are they hanging out without him?

Jungkook walks down the stairs, hair messy and eyes still almost closed with sleep. His footsteps echo down the hallways as he makes his way to the beach-facing entrance.

And that’s where Jimin and Namjoon are.

They’re playing in the water under the moonlight. Jimin seems beside himself with happiness, splashing water over Namjoon’s shirt that’s almost sheer at his point with how much he’s drenched, the other boy half-heartedly splashing him too. The ocean glitters, reflecting the stars and moon.

Jungkook watches, a hollow sinking in his chest.

Why didn’t they invite him? Why didn’t Jimin wake him up and ask him to join too?

They play some more until Namjoon seems to spot something in the sand. He reaches down to grab it, revealing a crab that the mere sight of elicits a sharp shriek from Jimin. Namjoon chases him around with it and Jimin eventually stops being scared. They squat on the beach together, touching its shell and chatting. Jungkook can’t hear their conversation. 

These parties, midnight outings, it was their thing.

Why is he doing it with Namjoon now?

Jungkook feels tears prickle in his eyes. He’s never been a crier, but it hurts so much.

“You don’t have to worry.” Jungkook hears.

He whips his head to the left, coming face to face with Jungmin, one of Jimin’s older brothers. He’s looking at him almost knowingly, standing tall and handsome leaning against the French windows that lead out to the porch.

“What?” Jungkook asks.

“I’ve noticed you staring at them for the entire vacation. You think he’s replaced you, don’t you?”

Jungkook stays silent, jaw clenched. He’s embarrassed.

“You’re all he can see,” Jungmin says. “All he’s ever seen is you, ever since he was five.”

He doesn’t bother to hide his surprise. The sounds of the waves crashing against the shore are loud, cool ocean breeze whipping at his ears.

“What do you mean?”

“Every time he calls home, it’s always Jungkook this and Jungkook that. How handsome you are, how talented, how you scored so well-”

“Jungmin-”

“He loves you, so much,” Jungmin says. “You’re his entire world. And right now, he’s trying to safeguard his heart.”

Jungkook frowns.

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“Jimin didn’t tell me but something happened, didn’t it? Maybe a few years ago, when you were 13 or 14?” Jungmin asks. “Jimin used to tell me all about you but he just stopped talking about you as much. He’d get upset whenever I asked about you and would hurry to end the call.”

Jungkook didn’t know that. He feels rooted in place.

“He would keep telling me about this ‘friend’ of his who had feelings for his best friend. I had told him that he should tell his friend to do something special for them, tell them he loved them.”

The picnic by the pool. Jimin kissed him.

“I saw through what he was saying immediately. I knew he was talking about you.” Jungmin smiles albeit a little sadly. “It didn’t go well, did it? I always felt bad afterwards for pushing him to do it.”

“I-” Jungkook starts, feeling as if there’s a blade lodged in his heart.

“I don’t understand, though. You clearly feel the same way.”

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. Does he feel the same way?

Suddenly, it makes sense.

How his vision has always been drawn to Jimin, how he’s always felt a blooming warmth in his heart and safety he’s never found elsewhere but in him. How he’s addicted to him, addicted to keeping him close. How he’s been caught in his orbit ever since he was a child, back when they just happened to be in the same train compartment, starting their new lives together. How he always looks for Jimin in the crowd once he scores a goal, or aces a test, or has news that’s as little as a stubbed toe. How the fluttering in his heart has increased as the years go by, a telltale sign of love and arising feelings that go beyond friendship.

He’s always been drawn to him, one way or another. Jimin is his world.

They’ve grown up together, laughed and cried together.

Jimin is his person.

“Be gentle with our Jimin, Jungkook. You’re not the only one who loves him.” Jungmin says. “He’s our entire world just as he is yours. If you keep watching from the sidelines and don’t be honest with yourself, you’ll lose to someone who will. Namjoon is a wonderful boy.”

Jungkook’s throat is heavy and he can feel his heartbeat in his ears. There’s a squeezing in his chest, like he’s losing grasp of all strings of coherent thought beyond Jimin. 

He can’t lose. He knew it before, and it’s more apparent now.

Jimin is his, has always been, just as he’s always been Jimin’s.

He’ll work hard to change it.

-

On their way back to school, Namjoon sits with them in their usual compartment. Jimin sits on his side of it and dozes off somewhere in the middle of the ride, fast asleep on Namjoon’s sturdy shoulder.

Jungkook doesn’t miss the pink tinge to Namjoon’s cheeks as he looks out of the window, hands resting politely in his lap. He gazes at the passing vivid scenery, farmland and cottages ebbing off into steeper turns and roundabouts as they travel higher.

Their eyes eventually meet, and Namjoon smiles at him. It’s pure and friendly, just a polite grin, totally in the dark of what the entire interaction invokes in Jungkook’s mind.

Why does it feel like he’s already lost?

-

Come September 1st, Jungkook isn’t expecting the surprise birthday party Jimin throws for him in their room.

He’d been grumbling the whole day, in a bad mood thinking that Jimin had forgotten, the other boy barely batting an eye at him during their breakfast and lunch. Jimin would always wake him up at midnight with a cupcake and a candle, and he didn’t do it this year.

Instead, Jimin went all out for that evening.

He decorated their room with posters and some balloons that Jungkook has no idea how he got a hold of. Jimin’s study table is cleared and full of sliced tea cakes, sandwiches and glasses of juice. They’ve all been arranged carefully like Jimin took his time with it.

When Jungkook walks in, he’s immediately surprised.

Deep down, he should’ve known that Jimin would never forget his birthday.

In their small room are Jimin, Namjoon, and some of Jungkook’s classmates and his lacrosse team. They’re all looking at him expectantly, wide smiles on their faces, all wearing party hats he only knows they are because of Jimin’s insistence.

The truth is, Jungkook has never liked surprises. He hates being caught off-guard.

But the look on Jimin’s face, dressed up in his finest outside clothes with a party hat atop his pretty head, a wide excited smile on his face as he shouts Surprise!, is enough for Jungkook’s entire world to stop turning.

He smiles instead, falling into the tight hug Jimin gives him. Namjoon follows next, Jungkook pulled into his warm chest. Jimin proudly tells Jungkook about how he and Namjoon snuck into the kitchens to get the plates and cutlery, laughing about how the other boy had almost dropped everything and gotten them caught.

While Jungkook feels a pang of hurt that that memory couldn’t have been theirs, he can’t help but be touched that Namjoon put in so much of effort into his birthday. He even made him a gift, a little mini crosse furnished from smooth wood. He’s been taking carpentry as an extra-curricular.

The birthday party turns out to be more fun than he’d expected. Jimin’s planned several games that Jungkook knows the others wouldn’t have gone through with if they weren’t so smitten.

“Let’s go around the circle and say what we love about Jungkook each!!!” Jimin says excitedly, clearly high on all the sugar from the juice and cake.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, squirming uncomfortably in his chair at all the sentimental words his friends dole out for Jimin’s sake. About how he’s a wonderful teammate and classmate. Some relay stories about how Jungkook covered for them during games, helps them out with homework, helps talk to them through their problems.

It’s quite different, hearing these things about himself. Jungkook didn’t know that the others felt so nicely about him and that his actions that he didn’t bat an eye while doing have been appreciated.

He feels warm, and he’s happy.

Namjoon talks about how Jimin and him welcomed him and made him feel at home when he’d joined, and that he’ll always be grateful. 

Jungkook flashes him a genuine smile for the first time.

After that, Jimin claps his hands. 

“Great! Onto the next game-”

“You didn’t go, Jimin,” Taesuk says. “You didn’t say why you love Jungkook.”

Jimin seems to redden almost instantly. If Jungkook didn’t know him so well, he would’ve missed the flicker of panic that crosses his expression. His hands are still pressed together, ready to announce the next game, caught mid-sentence.

“Come on, Jimin.” Someone else says.

Jimin seems held in place, mouth opening and closing.

“I love Jungkook b-because-” He starts, and why is he so nervous?

Jungkook’s heart hammers in his chest. He’s trying to play it cool, posture relaxed even though every inch of him is inclined to what Jimin’s answer will be. Whatever it is, it’ll be playing in his head for days.

“I love him b-because he’s my safety dock.” Jimin answers. “Sometimes I feel like a boat that’ll drift away on stormy seas but he’s always there to keep me tethered and safe. I never have to worry as long as he’s around. He’s also the rainbow-scaled fish in the water that keeps me company and shows me that there’s magic in the world, and takes me out for a ride no matter what time of day, always there to brighten my life. He’s my sky, and my ocean, and the friendly fish within, my entire world. I love him because he’s everything to me. He’s always there for me despite how I always overstep my boundaries and always ask for more.”

Jungkook is speechless. Everyone else seems to be too, staring at Jimin as if in shock.

Even a few years ago, he would’ve laughed hearing this. He would’ve written it off as typical Jimin behaviour, clingy and desperate to be close.

Right now, his heart is singing. He thought that Jimin didn’t feel that way about him anymore. Jungkook knows when Jimin is lying, and he wasn’t this time.

Before he can open his mouth to say something, or even comprehend his words, Jimin speaks.

“Let’s move on to the next game. Here are some papers, I want you to write down a number…”

Jungkook can’t bring himself to listen. Jimin’s words ring in his ears like sirens, and he can’t move past that point. He lets Jimin pout and whine at him whenever he tanks every single game, never paying attention.

Jungkook is in love.

Perhaps he’s always been.

The rest of the birthday party is a haze and everyone drops off for the night one by one once the clock strikes twelve, signalling the dawn of a new day.

Then, it’s just him, Jimin and Namjoon.

“Did you have fun, Jungkook?” Jimin asks as they clear up. “I hope you liked the party. I’ve been planning it for weeks, even asked all your teammates to shift practice so they could stay late.”

Ah. So that’s why tomorrow’s practice has been cancelled. Jungkook did think it odd. It’s also funny that Seungchan, their team coach who’s always hard-headed about practice and them arriving late simply gave into Jimin’s request.

“I loved it, Jimin.” Jungkook answers. “It meant the world to me.”

Jimin smiles at that, a full one, wide and all-encompassing of his happiness. Namjoon is silent, clearing up crumbs and stacking the plates.

“Jimin.” He eventually says, standing up. “Will we be ready to leave soon? I’m tired.”

Jungkook frowns immediately.

“Leave where?”

“Ah,” Jimin says sheepishly. “Your second birthday gift. I thought you’d like to have the room to yourself for one night. I’m always crowding your space and I know that you’ve always wanted your own room.”

What?

“So I thought I’d give that to you for your birthday.”

Jungkook used to say it when they were younger. That he had his own room at home and never had to share, and it’s annoying that he has to share one now. He didn’t think Jimin remembered.

“No-”

“It’s fine, Jungkook. I’ll stay with Namjoon tonight.” Jimin says before stepping forward, bringing his hands up to whisper into his ear. “Your first birthday gift is under your bed. I’m too shy to see your reaction.” He says, giggling as he whispers.

He pulls away sooner than Jungkook can process, and then he’s walking out of the room with Namjoon, not before turning around and mouthing Happy Birthday before he presses the door shut behind him. Jungkook barely registered Namjoon’s goodbye either. His throat is heavy.

Jungkook’s fingers ache, wishing he could turn back time. Deep down he knows it’s not his fault, that he was a silly child that would speak without empathy or thought. But it hurts. 

Has Jimin thought of his presence in his life as a nuisance?

Jungkook walks on numb legs toward his bed, crouching down and pulling out the carefully wrapped gift box from under. He’d thought he’d seen the purple slivers of wrapping paper in the bin earlier, dismissing it once Jimin said he’d needed it for some leisurely arts and crafts.

It’s a small box, and Jungkook unwraps it with the utmost care. It’s almost too quiet now, and Jungkook looks up momentarily to see the owls perched on the tree outside their window.

Today, Jungkook’s attending the secret party alone. No Jimin in his silly makeup, tiara and pearls. No one to tuck into bed. Just him.

Inside the box is a snowglobe.

Jungkook looks at the two figures within, and his eyes widen.

It’s him and Jimin, seated on the beach. It’s been done impeccably, their faces moulded perfectly from clay, their bodies clad in the clothes Jungkook remembers them wearing. There’d been a day during the summer holidays that they’d called for a photographer. He’d brought the large contraption of a camera onto the beach and clicked several pictures of them. Jimin had pulled a camera-shy Jungkook to sit down with him for one photograph, Jimin half-leaning on his chest and tucked into his neck, the salty waves tickling their feet.

He must’ve had this made from the photograph. In the snowglobe, it’s just the two of them. He looks at the sand, dotted with shells and the water that’s been carved out of blue and white stone. It’s been made with the utmost detail, down to their fingers that are intertwined in the sand. 

Jungkook shakes it and rather than snow, it’s luminescent little stars that rain down. When held at a certain angle, they reflect the colours of the rainbow.

On the front of the snowglobe is a message engraved.

To my rainbow-scaled fish that shines like a million stars, Happy Birthday!

That night, Jungkook falls asleep with dried tear tracks on his cheeks, the snowglobe pressed tightly to his chest as if it were part of his soul.

-

Jungkook starts doing everything for Jimin. Even the little things.

He gets him the books he needs from the library. He places his medal from a game win around Jimin’s neck, the last before their exams. He saves Jimin the best seat in the common room by the window, his favourite reading spot. He writes him notes before class, and massages his shoulders after. He even lets Jimin apply some salmon pink nail polish on his toes, ignoring the fun his teammates poke at him.

Jimin seems surprised yet overjoyed at his efforts.

Still, Jungkook realizes very soon that everything he’s doing is nothing compared to Namjoon. The other boy is doing everything and more. He’s always around Jimin, always there for him whenever Jungkook isn't, which is, unfortunately, most of the time due to their different classes and his heavy practice hours.

Namjoon lets Jimin put makeup on him, something which Jungkook never allowed. 

He works hard to change it one evening.

“You can do it if you want,” Jungkook tells Jimin one night as the other boy gets ready for bed. Jimin turns to look at him from where he stands in the bathroom, feet bare against the cobalt blue tiles, fingers working hard to gently pat yet another obscenely expensive cream into his porcelain skin.

“Do what?” Jimin responds softly.

“Put makeup on me.”

Jimin’s mouth drops open, expression still blank yet Jungkook sees the sparkle in his eye. 

“Really? No way.”

“Yeah. I’ll let you.”

“Promise this isn’t a mean joke.”

“When have I ever lied to you?” Jungkook quips, setting down his pen. Jimin seems so happy, and Jungkook wonders why he didn’t just say yes earlier. He didn’t know that this was so important to him, that this could warrant so much happiness.

Jimin’s face breaks out into a wide smile and then he’s nitpicking from his wide collection of makeup, picking lip tints and eye glimmers, rouge and kohl. He emerges from the bathroom with arms full of the products, most of them foreign-name brands that Jungkook would never be able to recall. His parents travelled overseas a few months ago on a second honeymoon, and he knows they picked up most of the products from there.

He sets them down onto Jungkook’s desk and tries to pull his chair so that it faces him. Jungkook stands so that it’s easier.

He sits facing Jimin, hands on the armrests, the corner of his mouth curving upward as Jimin still seems to be in disbelief.

“I can’t believe I’m getting to do this,” Jimin reveals, cheeks pink and eyes sparkling.

“Go crazy.” Jungkook smiles.

Jimin gets to work after that. First, he rubs some face lotion into Jungkook’s skin which is more soothing than he’d thought it would be - Jimin’s soft fingers gliding across his cheekbones, so gentle. The scent of it is delicate and floral, of jasmines. 

“You have perfect skin,” Jimin says in the middle.

“Lucky me.”

“Be humble.” Jimin snorts, and Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut at the soothing touches. 

Jimin eventually starts applying something on the lids of his eyes and he feels the fleeting touch of a brush. He resists the urge to rub where it tickles. Then there’s the thin wet line of eyeliner, stopping just shy of the edges of his eyes.

“Don’t make me look like a Victorian high countess.”

“You already look like a fair maiden.” Jimin laughs. “So pretty.”

Jungkook’s cheeks go pink at that. He watches as Jimin pops open the tin of mascara, picking up the brush and dragging it along the cake to collect the makeup. He applies it carefully over his eyelashes, tongue peeking out from his lips. Then comes the rouge, dusted lightly over his high cheekbones.

Jimin seems to struggle when it’s time for the lipstick. He pouts, arms crossing in thought.

“I need to get closer or the angle won’t be right-”

Jungkook reaches for his narrow waist with firm hands, pulling him to sit on his lap. They’re facing each other, barely a few breaths apart. 

“Is this fine?” Jungkook asks, his own heart hammering in his chest. Jimin seems shocked beyond words, his bare face splotchy pink, ebbing to a ruddy red on his cheeks. His eyes are wide but he eventually nods shakily.

“Y-Yes.”

“Continue, then,” Jungkook tells him.

It’s tense after that, both of them eerily silent. Jungkook’s hands are still on his waist and Jimin hasn’t told him off for it so he keeps them there. He smooths his thumb over the silky material of the sleepshirt, feeling the way his fingers dip into the soft skin.

“What colour is it?” Jungkook asks because it’s too silent, and that means sitting alone with his thoughts of how lovely it would be to have Jimin all to himself like this every night. He’s usually always with Namjoon nowadays.

“A light baby pink,” Jimin answers just as he’s done applying the lipstick. “For my pretty princess.”

“Shut up. You’re the princess if there was one.”

“I wish I was a princess,” Jimin responds jokingly, but Jungkook knows that the words ring true. He’s known Jimin for years and knows when there’s truth to his words, especially when they’re carefully packaged as silly statements that hold no weight.

His mouth runs miles ahead of his brain.

“You’re my princess,” Jungkook responds. “You’ve always held that value to me.”

Jimin seems to be at a loss for words. 

Jungkook stares at him, taking in how beautiful he is. How beautiful he’s always been. How he holds so much of Jungkook’s soul, sitting here in his arms. How he’s the most important person to him, always has been.

“You’re my favourite person in the entire world, Jimin,” Jungkook says before he leans up and captures Jimin’s lips with his.

Jimin goes still, and his lips are so soft, exactly like what Jungkook imagined they would be. 

He leads the kiss, pulling Jimin closer, getting more confident at not being pushed away. It feels like time has stopped for him, vivid bursts of colours in the backs of his eyes. His heart soars right to the star-studded sky, right under the moon that’s watched them ever since the start, its gravity bringing them together.

Jungkook only pulls away when he feels tears against his skin. His own lipstick is messy across Jimin’s lips, and he’s already sniffling as he cries.

“Jimin? What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks immediately, frowning, reaching a hand up to wipe away his tears.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Jimin asks, just as a fresh set of tears roll down his cheeks. “I was just, I had only just-”

“Jimin-”

“Friends don’t kiss each other, remember? You don’t like me like that.”

Jungkook’s heart breaks.

“I do, Jimin, I do-” He reassures and Jimin pulls his hands away from his face.

“Is this funny for you?” Jimin asks, eyes wide and wet. He gets off Jungkook’s lap shakily, quickly walking over to his bed and pulling on a sweater. “Funny how it’s the biggest joke played on me for over a decade.”

“Jimin, let’s talk. I need to clear things up. I’m sorry. You’ve got it all wrong-” Jungkook says urgently, standing up and walking toward Jimin. The other boy holds his hand up, stopping him in his tracks.

“Jimin,” Jungkook repeats with disbelief. “I like you, I really do-”

“Stop it,” Jimin says rather sharply, looking at him with hard eyes. “Just stop it. It’s just another phase of yours before you push me away again. Don’t play with me.” He adds before shucking on his slippers, walking to the door.

Jungkook stares, tears prickling at his own eyes.

“I’m going to go,” Jimin says slowly, one hand on the doorknob. “And you’re not going to follow me. You’re going to wipe off your makeup and go to sleep, and we’ll pretend this didn’t happen tomorrow.”

Jungkook feels his heart shatter into a million pieces.

“Why won’t you believe me?” Jungkook asks, heart sinking.

Jimin’s eyes soften at that, just a touch.

“Because I’ve believed and dreamed it so many times before, and I’ve always been disappointed. I can’t let that happen to me again, not once more.” Jimin says. “My heart has bled because of you too many times before and I don’t know if I’d be able to stitch myself up if it happens yet another time.”

Jungkook goes silent. He didn’t know how deep his actions travelled. He didn’t know that his careless words as a child would have amounted to this. He didn’t know.

“Go to sleep, Jungkook. Don’t follow me. I know you will.” Jimin says again, resigned and tired before he walks out the door, shutting the door gently behind him.

Jungkook doesn’t know how long passes, just staring at the dark wood.

-

Jimin is always quiet. He’s in their room on a need-basis: to shower, to sleep, to study. He’s out of their room for everything else, and Jungkook suspects that he spends the remainder of his time with Namjoon.

“Where are you going?” Jungkook asks as Jimin is on his way out of their room, just having taken a bath.

“I’m going to the stargazing tower. I have some homework to complete before nighttime.” He answers quietly before leaving. Jungkook watches as he goes, jaw clenched and the pen between his fingers on the verge of snapping in half.

He tries hard to study for the next few minutes but finds his mind to be dark and murky.

Jungkook stands up, shucks on his slippers and leaves their room. He walks down the stone corridors, up the stairs and to the third door on the right. He raps his knuckles on the hardwood.

Namjoon answers the door, seeming surprised upon recognizing him. Jungkook has never visited him before.

“Jungkook.” He greets. “Hello! Would you like to come in-”

“Cut the shit,” Jungkook says. “He’s been staying with you, hasn’t he?”

Namjoon frowns.

“Yes, he has.” He answers. “But don’t be mad at him. He hasn’t told me but he’s upset about something-”

“Tell him to come back.” Jungkook cuts. “Please.”

Namjoon’s features turn apologetic and Jungkook wallows down the pulse of irritation he feels.

“I’ll try, but I don’t know,” Namjoon says. “He asked to stay with me from classes until bedtime.”

“And that made you the happiest person in the world, didn’t it?” Jungkook sneers. “I know you like him as more than a friend.”

Namjoon seems to be caught off-guard for a second, his face searing with heat.

“There’s something you need to know,” Jungkook says with little amiability, getting closer. “Nobody can come between Jimin and I. You’re our friend, but you won’t come close to being a part of us. What we have is untouchable and has lasted over a decade.”

“Then why doesn’t he want to talk to you?” Namjoon asks, jaw clenched. It seems that his patience is wearing thin, too.

“That’s none of your business,” Jungkook says. “Just don’t overstep and think you’re entitled to him, or that you can occupy my place. You can’t and I suggest you remove yourself from your delusions as quickly as possible.”

“I really thought we were friends.” Namjoon laughs bitterly and it’s almost sad. “You’ve hated me all this time, haven’t you? All while I thought you and Jimin were the greatest friends I could’ve ever had. You despise me.”

Jungkook is silent, eyes hard. It’s not true, but the competition is blinding him.

“I’m not going to do anything Jimin doesn’t want me to do. If he doesn’t like me the way I like him, that’s fine. But you need to back off. He clearly wants space from you and you need to respect that. Maybe what you have isn’t so untouchable given he finds more solace in me than he does in you.”

“I-”

“And maybe if you really belonged to one another, you would’ve been together by now.” Namjoon says, voice hard. “I’ll see you later, and I’m not going to say a word if Jimin comes to me. I’ll respect his decision. I suggest you do the same. Perhaps that’s why you’re in the position you are right now.”

Namjoon shuts the door in his face.

Jungkook’s feet carry him to the stargazing tower. He rounds up the spiralling staircase, demeanour charged and posture ramrod straight. It’s just blooming dusk, the entire stairway painted a myriad of colours through the sunlight that streams in through the stained windows.

Surely enough, he finds Jimin curled up with his homework under the glass dome, lost in thought. He’s taken his shoes off, pink-socked feet tucked underneath him.

Of course Jimin would tell him the truth regarding his whereabouts, even if he’s upset with him.

Jungkook’s footsteps echo in the domed structure as he walks in, drawing Jimin’s attention. His features immediately pinch, shoulders stiffening.

“I’m doing my homework,” Jimin announces.

“So?” Jungkook asks. “I came to look at the stars.” He says unconvincingly, walking over to the large telescope and looking into the glass.

Jimin is silent although Jungkook hears the sounds of his writing resume, fine strokes of the nib of his pen against paper resounding through the air.

Jungkook continues to look through the glass, squinting.

“You won’t be able to see anything while the sun’s still out,” Jimin says and Jungkook can hear the barely repressed smile in his voice. “Silly Jungkook. You’re such a fool for pretending and thinking I wouldn’t realize.”

“You make me a fool,” Jungkook says sheepishly, stepping away from the telescope and walking toward the other boy.

Jimin’s features quickly school themselves back to stone, as if suddenly remembering that they’re not on talking terms.

Jungkook stops right before him.

“You’re the one who’s pretending you’re still mad at me.” He dares.

“I am,” Jimin says, eyes trained on the book. “Your idiocy just gave me a brief respite.”

“Did it?”

“Jungkook.” Jimin sighs, shutting the book and looking up at him. “This isn’t a joke. Don’t treat it as such.”

“I’m not,” Jungkook says, taking the liberty to sit down next to him. Jimin is so beautiful that it puts his heart through a wringer; the golden sun painted across his features, highlighting the hazel drops in his irises and his generous eyelashes. 

“I’m sorry.” Jungkook offers.

Jimin laughs, although it’s bitter.

“But not for kissing you.” He elaborates. “I’m sorry for everything I did to make you feel like I didn’t mean it. Because I did, more than words can say.”

“Jungkook-” Jimin starts, features pinched.

“Let me finish, please,” Jungkook asks. “Friends don’t kiss each other. But you’ve always been more than that to me.”

Jimin’s frown eases out.

“I hadn’t realized it earlier. You’ve always been my best friend, and my stupid brain wasn’t prepared for anything more. I always think back to it, wishing I could return to that day and slap myself across the face for hurting you that way, hurting myself too.”

“But why now?” Jimin asks. “Why have you suddenly realized it? I kissed you five years ago. That’s a long time.”

“Because now there’s a threat,” Jungkook says. “I hate change. You know that. It was fine because you never returned the feelings of others. It was always fine. But then, Namjoon came and you suddenly forgot about me.”

“Are you mistaking jealousy for love?” Jimin frowns.

“No!” Jungkook says. “It just made me realize that the thought of losing you was something I couldn’t bear. I’ve always loved you, Jimin. It just took me the longest time to realize it because I’m a fool. It took imagining you with someone else for me to realize that I want everything with you. I promise you.”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m so sorry, Jimin. Please give me a chance. Don’t avoid me. I can’t bear it.”

Jimin seems to be on the fence.

“You know,” He eventually begins. “There were so many times I thought you felt the same way, all these years. One time when I caught you staring at my lips, or brushing my hair with your fingers when you thought I was still asleep in the early mornings. Or when you had pushed Junhui away when he kissed me, or whenever you’d block me from the view of the others during our showers after PE. There were so many times that I’d thought, dreamt and hoped, tirelessly and without rest that one day, you’d just drop it all and admit that you love me. I eventually just stopped hoping. Because one day you’d make me dream, and the next you’d crush my heart between your fingers. You’d push me away, or call me clingy, and talk about how you would rather be alone.”

“Jimin.”

“I can’t forget it so easily. What if tomorrow you decide that you’re sick of me?” Jimin asks.

The mere thought of it is ridiculous to Jungkook.

“I asked for time. And I meant it. Just give me some time to process my thoughts, please.”

“I-”

“I’ll come to you if that’s what I want. Right now, I need to think. And study. You’re not letting me do my homework.” Jimin says firmly although still gentle.

Jungkook smiles even though it’s a little sad. Jimin is still kind, even now.

“Okay.” He relents after a few seconds, standing up onto his feet. “At least stay in our room. I won’t try to kiss you, I promise. I’ll respect your space.”

“You better not,” Jimin says, already getting back to his homework. 

-

Jimin’s father falls very ill.

It happens a mere week before their exams, and Jimin is distraught. Something about a heart issue and the letter the other boy receives reveals that he’s been rushed to the hospital. 

Jimin is in tears, inconsolable. It’s like he floats through the days, and Jungkook hears him cry and pray in the bathroom.

Namjoon helps him study and shares notes gathered during last-minute revisions. Jungkook can’t help there either as he has different subjects and even puts aside his differences with Namjoon to create a schedule such that Jimin is never left alone.

On the evening of the 24th of November 1945, the day before their exams are scheduled to begin, there’s a sudden gust of strong wind through their window and into their room.

It’s odd considering the time of day and the fact that the air has been rather still thus far, indicating an impending storm. The draft of charged air flutters around Jimin, as if wrapping around him, an embrace. It flows through his hair, almost caressing, and tickles his fingers and rosy cheeks. Jimin smiles widely through it for the first time in days, something that seemed to surprise even him. The diminishing sun seems to glow brighter for those few seconds before it collapses into the cool air. The both of them are puzzled but don’t think much of it, just a strange occurrence although Jimin is silent for a while after.

That same night, Jungkook remembers that he hasn’t submitted his forms for his exams. Today’s the last day, and he might not be eligible for his hall ticket if he puts it off any longer. He leaves Jimin in the room and skips downstairs, heading to the admin office to add his paper to the pile.

He spots somebody familiar just as he arrives at the ground floor. He squints, walking into the large area and recognizing him upon first glance.

Jungkook finds Jimin’s oldest brother Seungho waiting in the school reception. It’s raining cats and dogs outside, and Jungkook didn’t know that he was coming. It’s quite a shock.

There’s a sense of dread in his stomach, fueled by the tiredness in Seungho’s face, the dull eyes.

Still, the older man musters a smile for him, no matter how small.

“Hello, Jungkook. I hope you’re doing well. Could you please fetch Jimin for me? I’m here to take him home.”

Jungkook’s throat is heavy yet he nods, running out of the reception and through the school halls till he reaches their room.

Jimin’s in there, studying fervently, pen flying across the paper as he details chemical equations. The light from his desk lamp reveals the mess of papers over the wood, a symbol of Jimin’s stress for the exams.

Jungkook wishes he didn’t have to disturb the peace.

“Jimin.” He calls, voice weak.

Jimin doesn’t look up, just hums. He’s concentrating very hard.

“What is it?”

“Seungho’s here.”

Jimin’s head whips up. 

“Why? Why is he here?” He asks. His eyes immediately start to grow wet, lips trembling.

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. It’s glaringly obvious what the news is, but he doesn’t want to say it. It doesn’t feel right for him to be the one to break it to him.

“I d-don’t know.” He answers. “He’s here to take you home.”

Jimin starts to cry. Jungkook has never seen him cry this way before. 

He helps Jimin pack up some of his things, his textbooks and some clothes and escorts him downstairs. The entire time, Jimin seems distraught, beside himself with preemptive grief. It seems like he’s experiencing difficulty inhaling oxygen, breaths gasping, footsteps shaky down the long corridors and stairwells.

When Seungho sees him, he starts to cry too. They hug each other for what seems like a lifetime and Jimin seems to finally break down when he’s finally in his arms. His back heaves with his sobs and it looks and sounds like he’s dying. Jungkook can’t help the tears that sting at his own eyes, slipping involuntarily down his cheeks.

They leave quickly after that, even the Headmaster present, seemingly aware and highly sympathetic of the situation. Jimin doesn’t look back, eyes vacant and wet, his brother’s arm firm around his shoulders. They step out into the rain, into their expensive car and set off into the stormy night. The last he sees of Jimin is the mop of his hair as he enters the vehicle.

Jimin’s father was a wonderful man.

Jungkook had only met him once, but he’ll always remember him as the most honourable person he’d ever come across. Kind, warm, loving and friendly. He was Jimin’s protector, always doting and a safety blanket. Jungkook can’t imagine the grief, and he simply prays for his soul and for Jimin’s strength.

-

Jungkook’s exams go well. So do Namjoon’s, whose final score is at the top of the list once their results are out and posted on the notice board.

Jimin opted to give his exams at home. Jungkook knew that the school offered him the option to attempt them later next year, but Jimin refused. They mailed the question papers to him and received them fully answered. Jimin’s grades have dropped, but only a little. He’s still in the top 10% of their grade, and Jungkook admires his strength.

There’s a hollow without Jimin, prevalent in every facet of Jungkook’s being. It’s been over a month since Jimin left, and Jungkook sleeps and wakes alone. He has the room to himself and misses him almost painfully when his eyes unwillingly drift to his things.

Jungkook spends most of his time outside the room. He practices in the field, does his homework in the library, spends his free time in the courtyard and the common room. He’s sent Jimin countless letters although there hasn’t been a single response. Jungkook’s family attended the funeral and his mother told him over the phone that Jimin seemed like a ghost.

Jungkook will wait forever.

One night, Jungkook is shaken awake by a firm yet gentle hand on his shoulder. He opens his eyes groggily, realizing how cold it is. He realizes immediately that he’d fallen asleep in the field, right under the willow tree where Jimin would usually sit and read. His spine feels sore, and his legs feel heavy like lead.

His vision focuses, eyes widening slightly through fatigue as he recognizes the person before him. 

It’s Namjoon.

The other boy is holding a lamp, bundled in a coat and scarf, peering at Jungkook’s face.

“You’ll fall ill.” He says gruffly, helping him up and giving him a spare jacket he’d obviously brought downstairs with him. Jungkook feels drained, tired, and he lets Namjoon lead him back into the warmth and safety of the school.

“Why are you helping me?” Jungkook asks, voice rough as they walk through the halls. His fingers are numb, blue at the tips. He must’ve missed dinner too with how empty he feels.

“Because I still care about you even if you don't care about me. I saw you through the window in my room.” Namjoon answers, leading him to the pantry. He starts heating up some milk and collects a hot cocoa sachet from the cupboard.

“I care about you,” Jungkook admits meekly.

“Sure.” Namjoon laughs. There’s silence for the next few minutes and Jungkook watches as he pours the hot cocoa once it’s finally ready into a mug before handing it to him. His fingers curl instinctively around it, chasing the warmth.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says once he takes a sip. Namjoon raises an eyebrow, leaning against the counters of the pantry. It’s started snowing outside.

“Is that so?”

“I didn’t mean it, back then. What I said.” Jungkook admits. He’s been feeling horrible about it for a while now. “I was just blinded by jealousy. I couldn’t stand that Jimin was choosing you over me. You’ve always been a great friend to me too.”

“You’re just saying this because I pulled you out of the clawed clutches of frostbite and pneumonia.” Namjoon smiles. “But I’ll take it.”

Jungkook grins.

“You’ve got a cocoa moustache,” Namjoon tells him, handing him a tissue. Jungkook laughs in response, and the rest of the evening goes that way. He’s invited to hang out in Namjoon’s room, and he discovers that they have a lot more in common than he thought they did. Namjoon is warm, kind and easy to talk to in a way that’s almost envious. They’ve never spent time alone together before.

Deep down, Jungkook is ashamed of his immaturity. He’s also heartbroken because he realizes that he doesn’t stand a chance against Namjoon. It would be perfectly admissible and plausible if Jimin chose him. There’s not a single fault to him. Despite how Jungkook has treated him, always kept him at an arm’s length and with some sense of malice, Namjoon is yet to be anything but kind to him.

Still, a part of him feels settled.

-

Jimin returns to school a month into their final semester.

Jungkook wakes up at dawn one morning to see Jimin asleep in his bed across the room. 

At first, he thinks he’s dreaming. He then spots Jimin’s suitcases by the foot of the bed and how gaunt his face is, clutching the stuffed rabbit against his chest for dear life. He’s had it ever since he was a child, and would keep boasting to Jungkook about how his father would buy him stuffed toys of whatever animal he likes. 

He must have arrived in the middle of the night.

Jimin looks different. He’s lost a lot of weight, such that it makes his eyes and lips seem bigger. He’s completely bare-faced and his hair is freshly cut, just above his eyebrows. There aren’t any earrings or rosy cheeks, just pale skin and chapped lips.

Still, he’s beautiful.

Jungkook, without a second thought, climbs out of his own bed and slides into Jimin’s, pulling him against his chest. He hugs him tightly, arms spanning his narrow waist, their bodies pressed flush together. Jungkook kisses his hair the moment he feels tears fall onto his collarbones and a pair of arms coming around him to hug him back. 

Jungkook’s soul feels complete, and he makes a promise in his sleep-added brain to always be there for Jimin. He can’t help but feel like his feet have finally touched ground after months of floating through his days. Jimin seems different, but he smells the same. He’s still the same soul.

He’s still Jungkook’s best friend, and his first love.

-

Jimin is a shell of what he used to be. 

He’s still sweet, and everyone still runs after him, but he’s lost the giddy excitement and contagious energy he used to hone. It’s a heavy task to coax a smile out of him, but it gets easier every day.

Jungkook tells Jimin that he loves him each and every morning when they wake, and every night when they sleep.

Jimin doesn’t ask for affection, but Jungkook gives it freely. He hugs him when he feels like it, runs his hands through his hair, gives him massages and talks freely too. He’s tired of holding back, and it’s quite liberating in a sense.

“What are you doing?” Jimin says one day as Jungkook lays down on top of him after practice, freshly showered. The smile is audible in his voice.

They have only 3 months left of school.

After that, they’ll part ways. Jungkook has applied to all the same universities Jimin has. It’s a secret he’s keeping from him, and he hopes he has the grades to make it. Jimin is a model student with strong extracurriculars. Jungkook is hoping for the best.

He doesn’t want to think about it and get carried away, inevitably wasting away the days they do have left. He wants to live them to the fullest.

Is it possible for 13 years to fly by like a few seconds?

“I’m relaxing after practice,” Jungkook answers, settling over Jimin’s lithe frame. He buries his nose into the soft cotton of his sleepshirt, eyes fluttering shut when he feels Jimin’s fingers stroking through his hair.

“Go relax in your own bed.”

“This is my bed. This is my room, and you’re my best friend, so this is my bed.”

Jimin laughs at that, and Jungkook closes his eyes at the sweet melody of it.

“I’m sorry for not responding to your letters,” Jimin says a few minutes later. It’s silent except for Jimin’s words, the only other sound being the ticking of the wall clock above their beds. If they open the windows, there’d be some soft breeze too, perhaps the chirping of some birds. In the city, you don’t ever hear sounds like this.

“It’s fine.” Jungkook dismisses, starting to feel sleepy. He doesn’t want Jimin to bring up something that’ll upset him because if Jimin is upset, Jungkook is upset too.

“I just couldn’t write….at all.” Jimin admits quietly. “All of the letter-writing I used to do would be to write to my father every week.”

Jungkook can feel Jimin’s chest tremble underneath him.

“And it feels wrong to just carry on like it doesn’t matter.”

“I’m sorry, Minnie,” Jungkook says, meaning it with every fibre of his being. “I really am.”

“I still read all of them. Cherished them. They’re all kept in a lovely velvet box in the third drawer of my dresser.” Jimin says.

“The third drawer? Wow, I’m so lucky,” Jungkook say teasingly although he’s touched. As long as Jimin drew comfort from his letters, that’s all that matters.

“Will you wait for me?” Jimin asks then.

Jungkook sits up on his elbows to look at him, a frown pulling at his eyebrows. Jimin’s staring at him with an unreadable expression, like stone. His skin looks as if it’s made of porcelain, the finest china.

They’d been apart for almost 5 months. Exam season, their summer holidays and then the first month and a half of the first semester. 5 months of zero contact from Jimin. And still, he’d never once questioned his willingness to wait. Every waking moment was consumed by thought for Jimin’s wellbeing.

“I’ll come back to what I used to be. But I’ll need time.” Jimin adds quietly. “Will you have that patience with me?”

“You’re acting as if I don’t love you right now,” Jungkook says. “I don’t think it’s possible for me to ever stop.”

Jimin is silent.

“I’ll wait forever,” Jungkook answers unhesitatingly. Jimin doesn’t respond, but Jungkook can feel his heartbeat start to slow from where he lies underneath him.

-

The first time Jimin laughs, it’s because of Namjoon.

The three of them sign up for a pottery workshop, one that spans over the weekend. The instructor is an elderly man who’s arrived from the village at the base of the mountains. Jungkook would rather spend his Sunday sleeping in until mid-afternoon but if Jimin wants to make clay pots at 7 am, he’s the best early bird there is.

Not too many people attend barring the three of them. The instructor seemed a little disappointed by the turnout but Jimin worked hard to display enough enthusiasm to make up for the small number. It worked, and the old man seemed happier as the seconds passed, eager to answer Jimin’s little questions and doubts.

Namjoon is abysmal at it.

He always sends the pottery wheel running too fast, spinning so quickly you can barely tell it’s moving, his thumbs digging too far in and bending all of his pots out of shape. Jungkook is decent at it. He’s happy with his new mug and flat plate.

Jimin, as usual, displays artisan-level perfectionism. He makes a small teacup set, one for each of his brothers and his parents. He takes extra care for his father’s, claiming that he’d keep it next to where his portrait is framed in their family home. The instructor is thrilled at his talent, inviting Jimin to come down to his shop and take extended lessons once the school year ends.

Jimin readily agrees, suggesting that they all go down later once they have some free time. Perhaps Jungkook can organize a final field trip, he says, get the entire class together for some lovely bonding.

As Jungkook watches Jimin work so hard to make the sweet elderly man happy and feel better about his lessons and craft, he finds himself falling deeper, if it were possible.

It’s broken when Namjoon accidentally sends a wet lump of clay flying through the air, the bulk of it landing on Jimin’s crisp white blouse. Some of the cool olive-toned clay splatters over Jimin’s neck and the side of his face too.

Everyone’s silent for a second.

But then, Jimin starts to laugh amidst Namjoon’s fervent apologies. He laughs, pure and wide, and Jungkook stares, breathing in the sight of him. How safe Jimin is, easygoing and warm. How long it’s been since he’s seen him this way.

Jimin scoops up some clay with his index finger and smears it gently over Jungkook’s cheek, leaning forward to dab some over the tip of Namjoon’s nose too.

“Now we’re even,” He giggles.

“Even for what? I didn’t even do anything,” Jungkook grumbles although the residual warmth of Jimin’s fingers over his cheek still simmers. 

It’s when they’re back in their room that the heat rises up a notch.

Jimin takes his shirt off the moment they’re back, tossing the soiled fabric into the washing basket. He patters quietly into the bathroom, drenching a washcloth and bringing it up to wipe over his collarbones in gentle strokes, catching the dried streaks of clay.

Jungkook watches from where he’s seated on his bed. It’s around midday, the golden sun streaming in through the windows of their room. It highlights a part of Jimin’s frame, the sunlight cascading over his slight shoulders and protruding collarbones.

“Stop staring and come help me,” Jimin calls, teasing. “I don’t know if I’ve gotten everything.”

It takes some time to put his feet into his action but Jungkook stands up and makes his way over to the bathroom. 

There’s no need to remove his own shirt considering it isn’t stained, but a part of him wants Jimin to see his bare torso. He’s a lot different than he was six months ago and he wants Jimin to notice how hard he’s worked to build his body.

He tells himself that he needs to change away, unbuttoning the garment and tossing it into the basket as well. 

Jungkook takes the washcloth from Jimin with gentle hands, turning him back around with a gentle hand on his waist.

Sudden tension rises sharply in the room as he leans in close to drag the washcloth over the back of Jimin’s neck, and he can see the goosebumps erupting across his skin. There’s a bit of cracked clay, so Jungkook wets the cloth once more, wringing it and paying close attention to the way Jimin shivers as the cool fabric trails across his skin. His thumb brushes in soft circles over the dip of Jimin's waist, forging a searing hot trail.

“You’re quiet,” Jungkook points out. 

He looks up to see Jimin staring at him through the mirror, eyes unexplainably dazed, a blush dusting prettily over his high cheekbones. There’s barely a few inches of space between them, Jungkook’s cool breath fanning out over his neck.

The tension that’s arisen grows burning hot, prickling at Jungkook’s skin and churning thick in his blood. 

Jungkook presses his fingers deeper where they rest on the bare skin of Jimin’s waist, registering the way his breath hitches. He dips his head down to brush his lips fleetingly over the line of Jimin’s neck, looming tall where he stands behind him.

“What’s wrong, Jimin?” He asks, voice low, looking up to see Jimin’s eyes pressed shut, breath coming out in whispered shudders. Jimin silently brings his hand up, intertwining his fingers with Jungkook’s where they lie on the slight dip of his waist.

It’s wordless after that.

Jungkook spins him around, resting both his arms on the sink behind Jimin to cage him in, pulling him into a bruising kiss. There’s a sense of victory rising through him as Jimin brings his arms up to wrap them around his neck, fingers tangling through his hair as he pulls him closer.

Jungkook feels dizzy. He devours Jimin’s mouth, unable to believe his reality, that he finally has Jimin this way. He pulls at his plump bottom lip with his teeth, one of his hands moving upward to grip at his jaw, thumb gliding gently over his cheekbone.

“You’ve decided?” Jungkook asks before he licks into Jimin’s mouth, addicted to the taste of him, of the feeling of Jimin’s soft lips against his. The other boy seems unable to get enough either, clutching tightly at his broad shoulders, fingers trailing down to curl over his bicep. His fingers don’t even enclose half of his upper arm. 

“You want me this way?” Jungkook asks once more, voice rough with lust yet there’s an edge of anxiety somewhere deep within, that he’s ruined everything yet again.

Jimin’s pupils are dilated. His face is pink, the shade of it uneven as it unravels itself along its skin. Jungkook wishes he could map the patterns of colour with his tongue. He grips tightly at Jimin’s hips, fingers digging into the hollow of the bone.

“Yes,” Jimin answers.

“You’re precious to me,” Jungkook confesses. “I’m willing to wait till you’re ready for any big jumps, emotional or physical.”

“This is just an action point, isn’t it?” Jimin murmurs softly, and Jungkook watches mesmerized as his irises catch drops of honeyed sunlight. “I made my emotional jump when I was 5.”

“What’s changed now?”

“I finally believe that you feel the same way,” Jimin reveals. “I’m allowing myself to trust that my heart is safe within your grasp.”

“It is. I promise.” Jungkook says almost urgently, eyes fluttering shut when Jimin leans up to kiss him softly once more.

“Then make me yours.”

Jungkook lifts Jimin up with firm hands on the backs of his thighs, the other boy squeaking in surprise, immediately wrapping his legs around Jungkook’s waist, heat searing through his skin. 

Jimin laughs, the sound of it like wind chimes, as Jungkook kisses down his neck, blowing the odd raspberry or two into his skin as they walk. 

“Which one?” He asks Jimin, gesturing to both their beds that sit on opposite sides of their room.

“Does it matter?”

“Yours, then.” Jungkook decides, gently setting Jimin down onto the soft mattress. He crawls over him, kissing him deeply, the passion behind it making his head spin. “It smells like you.”

“I smell like me.” Jimin pouts.

“Are you jealous of your bed?” Jungkook teases, pulling away from the kiss. Their noses brush and for a second, Jungkook’s breath is caught in his chest. He looks at the sight below him: Jimin bare, skin flushed with happiness, soft hair fanned out over the pillow. How he seems happy beyond words, the sun catching their presence and bathing them with what seems like a blessing. How Jimin looks at him, eyes deep and honeyed, sparkling with anticipation and excitement.

For a second, Jungkook allows his mind to travel. He kisses down Jimin’s neck, imagining that they’re married and finally grown up, in a lovely home in the suburbs. Jimin is an engineer and Jungkook looks after his family business and they’re happy together, leading a simple life in their home, besotted with their love. That their days aren’t numbered, that they’re endlessly content, and that they have a tangible future that extends beyond the coming month.

No sordid halt. No buffer, and the inevitable distance and drifting apart.

None of that, because they belong to one another, always have.

Jungkook hopes that every burning kiss he leaves over Jimin’s petal-soft skin conveys his feelings in their entirety. He kisses down his chest, laving his tongue over his nipples, forging a trail down his soft stomach that’s grown more toned now that Jimin’s been attending athletics in the early mornings to strengthen up.

Jimin runs his fingers through his hair, bringing one of Jungkook’s hands up to kiss his knuckles, keeping his lips pressed there even after, eyes glimmering with happiness and a sense of finality.

Jungkook pulls his hand back and settles them on the waistline of Jimin’s trousers.

“Why’d you stop working?” Jimin giggles, noting the way Jungkook’s brain seems to fizzle out for a second.

“Do I…?” Jungkook asks. “What are we going to do?”

“My shy baby,” Jimin smiles. “You can take my trousers off. We’ll see how it goes after that.”

Jungkook grumbles lightly. 

“ ‘m not shy,” He says.

Still, he carefully undoes the buttons at the top and pulls Jimin’s pants off slowly, leaving him in just his underwear. Jungkook would’ve been more winded if he hadn’t started seeing female underwear in the washing basket years ago. Jimin’s always liked feminine things, and calls typical male underwear ugly and drab. 

Jimin is hard, and Jungkook’s mind reels with the knowledge that it’s because of him. He looks at the pale skin of Jimin’s legs, smooth and unblemished. His inner thighs seem to be the most sensitive, Jimin shivering lightly as Jungkook kisses the baby-soft skin.

“You’re beautiful,” Jungkook murmurs in between nips of teeth and dips of his tongue, tugging Jimin’s legs wider apart. He looks at the drooling bulge in the pearly fabric, the way Jimin brings his hands up to cover his face the longer Jungkook stares.

“You’re the shy one now,” Jungkook says with a smirk, hooking his thumbs into the delicate fabric of Jimin’s underwear and sliding it down his thighs. Jimin’s cock springs free, and the first thing Jungkook thinks is that it’s so pretty. It’s pink, flushed at the tip, curving up against his belly. A quick look up has him see that Jimin’s face is red, buried into his small hands.

“Don’t hide,” Jungkook chides, curling a loose fist around Jimin’s length and relishing the way he jerks into the touch, evidently sensitive.

“ ‘s embarrassing,” Jimin mumbles into his hands.

“No, it isn’t. If we’re going to be together, we’ll be seeing each other like this all the time. Are you going to act like a coy lamb later too?”

“Then you get naked too.” Jimin quips, pouting, pulling his hands away from his face and staring pointedly at Jungkook.

“No problem,” Jungkook says with a lazy smile. He’s confident about his body, and Jimin should be too.

He steps off the bed, making quick work of his button and zipper, yanking both his pants and underwear off in one harsh and over-excited tug. His cock bobs once it’s out of the confines of his clothing, standing stiff and proud in the room, seeming to have caught every iota of Jimin’s attention. The other boy’s eyes widen, cheeks flushed pink.

“You’re gonna poke someone’s eye out with that thing,” He says. “Why are you so big and I’m not?” He pouts after.

“You’re not small, and it doesn’t matter either way,” Jungkook frowns, sitting back onto the bed and curling a loose fist over Jimin’s pink cock, jerking him slightly and making him hiss. “Jimin has a perfect cock. So pretty.”

Jimin groans in embarrassment, blindly reaching for a pillow and whacking him in the face with it.

Still, Jungkook notices the increasing flush on his skin, mind spinning with realization.

The corners of his mouth curve upward in a way that’s almost menacing.

“Pretty Jimin likes being told he’s pretty. Pretty, pretty, pretty,” Jungkook teases, noticing that Jimin’s cock throbs in his hand at the praise. He swipes his thumb over the slit, partly in disbelief that he’s finally being intimate with Jimin this way, the other side of him greedily drinking in the way Jimin seems to react so beautifully to every single one of his actions.

Jungkook dips down to blow a cool bout of air over the wet and excited tip of Jimin’s cock, the head a deeper shade of pink. He notices Jimin’s thighs trembling in anticipation, breath peaking already even though he hasn’t done anything yet.

Jungkook’s about to close his lips over the length-

There’s some fervent knocking on the door. It’s urged, heavy collisions of someone’s hand against the wood.

Jimin snaps out of it, sitting up shakily.

“Who’s there?” He calls, voice weak. Jungkook rests a hand on his bare thigh.

“Jimin-” The person outside the door says. It’s Iseul, one of their classmates. “Namjoon fell down the stairs, it’s pretty bad, he’s unconscious and they’ve called for an ambulance-”

Jungkook sees in Jimin’s eyes how his world shatters in less than a second. His own heart drops to the ground too.

The mood shift is jarring, but there are more important things at stake.

Jimin gently pushes Jungkook away and starts pulling his clothes on, the tears already streaming down his cheeks in thick rivulets. They drip down his chin, eyes wide. Jungkook dresses too, pace fast and urged.

They leave the room, Iseul leading them downstairs. Jimin starts to sob when he sees the landing of the stairs, some of the stone steps coated in blood where Namjoon hit his head. It’s clear that he was on his way to their room from upstairs. 

“He slipped over some candle oil someone spilt over the stairs, apparently.  The warden found him-” Iseul informs them.

Jimin is shaking. It’s exactly how he was when he’d gotten news of his father, and Jungkook knows what’s running through his mind.

“He’ll be fine,” Jungkook tells him, his throat heavy. “I promise.”

Jimin doesn’t respond, still shaking like a leaf, face ashen and eyes dull. They enter the reception where Namjoon lies unconscious on a stretcher, his head bandaged although the white material is already blotched crimson in several places due to the blood flow.

The Headmaster and the paramedic seem to be having a heated argument.

“We’ll have to take him to Winterbury Memorial Hospital, it’s the closest-”

“No, take him to a public institution. The family can’t afford it-” The Headmaster counters.

“Are you really wasting time on this?” Jimin spits, rendering everyone silent. “Take him to the best hospital that’s nearby. I’ll be paying the bill.”

“Jimin-”

“Go!” Jimin shouts, tears streaming down his face. “Mail me the final bill. I’ll take care of it. No compromise for his treatment at all, you hear me?” 

It happens quickly after that. They load the stretcher onto the ambulance and it rolls off into the glaring afternoon sun. Jimin extends his fingers to touch Namjoon’s before he enters the vehicle.

Jungkook’s arm is firm around his shoulders, holding him up once the life seems to slip out of him as soon as the ambulance departs. 

“He’ll be fine, Jimin…” Jungkook tells him, praying that he’s right.

“It can’t happen again, Jungkook,” Jimin says. “I can’t lose him too.”

“You won’t, I promise.”

The warden walks over to them, a slight grimace on his features. They’ve known him ever since they were kids, when he would always scold the two of them for making too much noise after bedtime. 

He’s holding something in his hands.

“Jimin,” The warden says once he comes to a stop before them. “I found this by Namjoon when I discovered him. I apologize but I read it in case it held anything important, you should probably have it-”

Jimin takes the letter from him with shaky hands. Jungkook peers into the words along with him.

Dear Jimin,

I know you love letters. I’m sorry for not writing to you when you were away. I lacked the postal stamps required to send anything to your address. I don’t need anything to send a letter your way from the floor above, do I? I hope you’ll forgive me regardless.

I’m not sure what the purpose of this letter is, and why I’ve decided to write this now, but the events of today afternoon solidified my resolve. You have brought colour into my life in more ways than I can describe. I’m sorry for spilling the clay over your clothes but at least it made you smile, right? I’d do it a million times over just to hear you laugh that way again.

I’m sure you must know by now that I’m hopelessly in love with you. It genuinely scares me sometimes; the way I feel about you, like I’d do anything just to see you happy. That’s because you’ve made me endlessly happy too simply by just being my friend. My mother was worried for me, afraid that I’d be treated poorly because I don’t fit in with the rest of the children. I didn’t have the misfortune of feeling lonely for even a single day, because you walked into my life. You did a number on my heart, I must tell you, and you still do every minute of every day.

You make my head spin, and it’s difficult for me to write down the way I feel about you because no words, phrases, poetry or prose can do it justice. I want you to be happy, and if possible, we could be happy together. Could what we have breach the boundaries of friendship?

I know that you probably don’t feel the same way. But that’s fine. You have your own first love, just as you are mine. I can’t say that my feelings will ever ebb off but no matter the result, you’ll always have a companion in me. I hope to do silly things like pottery and stealing food out of the kitchens with you as long as I can. Being your friend is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You are a sacred part of my life, a sunny spot, and I wanted to let you know how you’ve tilted my simple word off its axis in the best way possible.

That’s enough bravery for today. I’ll drop this off by your door and hope that it brightens your day even the slightest bit.

All my love,

Namjoon

Jimin’s face is pale like a ghost’s. He grips the letter, the simple paper that’s been torn out of their school notebook. His tears smudge the ink, still fresh from how recently it’d been written.

Jungkook closes his eyes, praying that Namjoon will be fine.

-

Namjoon survives. Most of the cause for worry had been due to loss of blood, but they’d managed to snag a donor just in time. The hospital says that he’ll need bed rest for a week or so to check for any odd behaviour or head trauma.

Nothing happens between Jimin and Jungkook during that time. No kisses and no hugs outside falling asleep together. Jungkook won’t push. He himself feels like he’s being held down by a deadweight, worried for his friend’s safety.

Still, he can’t help but ask as they wait by the gates for Namjoon to return.

“Is it over?” Jungkook asks.

Jimin looks at him.

“What is?”

“You and me. Are we over?”

“Why would we be?” Jimin frowns. He looks alarmingly beautiful tonight if not tired, the lack of makeup making his features appear softer. He’s wearing a sweater over his uniform and it makes him appear soft, his hair floppy and silky, freshly washed.

“I don’t know,” Jungkook says, biting his lip. “Do you return his feelings? I-”

Jimin sighs.

“We’ll discuss this later. Namjoon is returning soon. That’s more important.”

They wait for the next few minutes in stilted, awkward silence. Jungkook doesn’t push, relaxing a bit before Jimin takes his hand and squeezes it in his before letting go.

Namjoon’s car finally approaches and Jimin runs to open the door for him. The other boy is smiling sheepishly and Jungkook resists the urge to grimace at the harsh zig-zag of the stitches that span across the side of his head. Still, he’s handsome.

“Hey, guys.” He smiles.

Jimin hugs him tightly, burying his nose into his chest.

“You look properly when you’re going down the stairs next time, you hear me?” He says, voice thick with tears.

“Yes, Jimin,” Namjoon says, going a little red and returning the embrace. “I’m fine now, though.”

“Just a surface wound?” Jungkook asks, curious himself.

“Not really. My hands shake sometimes and I felt a little wonky for the first few days. The doctor said it would stop after a while as there are no signs of neural damage.”

“That’s because of your thick head. You dummy,” Jimin tells him, face still buried into his shirt. Namjoon laughs, deep dimples on display.

“He calls you a dummy but he couldn’t breathe in between tears once he’d heard,” Jungkook reveals, shrinking a little at the glare Jimin sends his way.

“Really?” Namjoon asks with wide eyes, looking down at Jimin. The other boy just sniffles, huffing before hugging him tighter.

They’d make a nice couple

The thought flows through Jungkook’s mind unwarranted, and he feels the bite of a knife in his heart as soon as it registers. Distantly, he believes it, and what he feels rather than anger is heartbreak.

Namjoon is good looking and kind, eloquent with words and honest about his feelings. He’s handsome with warm eyes, not needing to be exceedingly fit to stand out. Jungkook works out every day to match up to him, thinking that Jimin would like strength, but maybe what he does like is a teddy bear. Namjoon doesn’t lash out when he’s angry and upset, rather confronting situations with a cool head. He’s not like Jungkook, who becomes jealous and hot-headed as easily as a flipped switch.

The thoughts revolving around fighting a losing battle slink their way back into his mind and he’s frustrated.

Jimin loves me

Jimin loves me

Jimin’s always loved me

I’m too late

“Jungkook?” 

Jimin’s voice cuts through the fog in his head. When he looks up, they’re not hugging anymore, rather looking at him with expressions of concern. Jimin’s pretty head is tilted to the side, inquiring.

Jungkook bites back the tears prickling at his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Jimin asks, eyes soft with worry. He steps forward and takes Jungkook’s face in his hands.

“Tell me,”

“I’m just happy that Namjoon is back,” Jungkook says, because he is.  

“Thank you, Jungkook.” Namjoon grins. “Should we head in? It’s almost time for snacks in the dining hall.”

Jimin doesn’t respond, still frowning at Jungkook, obviously concerned.

“Sure,” Jungkook smiles.

Jimin lets him intertwine their fingers and tug him into the school. They go straight to the dining hall, and Namjoon is bombarded with concerned classmates, even some faculty. He brushes off all their concerns about his well being, even letting a few of them prod at his scar, only stopping once the warden starts to yell that it could be dangerous.

Jungkook shouldn’t act like a baby. Namjoon had an injury that was almost fatal, and it makes sense that Jimin would pay him lots of attention and would want to catch up after a week apart. Jungkook would expect the same. He might’ve done even more if Jimin was the one who had been hurt.

Still, there’s the sinking feeling of insecurity creating a gnawing hollow in his chest.

And maybe if you really belonged to one another, you would’ve been together by now.

Maybe Namjoon is right.

-

Jimin invites Namjoon to sleep over in their room that same night. He readily agrees.

Jungkook agrees too.

It goes well for the most part. They play some board games, talk about everything and nothing. But they don’t talk about the elephant in the room; Namjoon’s letter.

Namjoon instead talks about the hospital, the nice doctors and the kind old man he shared the ward with. He made friends with some of the nurses and even the surgeon who operated on him.

It isn’t surprising in the least.

When they grow tired and it’s past midnight, Jungkook finds his worries sated, at least a little bit.

Jimin turns off the lamp and offers Namjoon his bed, crawling into Jungkook’s wordlessly. He was speechless for a few seconds, looking down at Jimin as he cuddled into his chest. He’s so happy that he can’t find words, speechless. He wraps his arms around Jimin, burying his nose into his hair, their legs tangled. 

“I love you most,” Jimin whispers into his ear and Jungkook’s arms curl around him tighter. “I can feel you worrying.”

The entire situation, the way they’re laying down, Jimin’s lips on his ear, Jungkook’s fingers on his waist - it’s so intimate. He feels his heart settle and he simply hums because he can’t find the words to express how relieved he is. He buries his nose into his neck, pulling him so close that there isn’t an inch of space between them.

Jungkook feels Jimin press a soft kiss to the space below his ear and he melts into a puddle of goo.

He falls asleep easily.

Jungkook wakes up to an empty bed.

Immediately, there’s a sense of dread. A quick look has him spot that Jimin’s bed is empty too, Namjoon missing as well.

He steps up onto his feet, noting how quiet it is barring the owls that hoot happily outside the window. There’s some light breeze, and Jungkook squints at the wall clock to note that they’re in the early hours of the morning.

He pulls on his slippers and walks out of the room, hair messy and pointing in all directions, still drowsy. His feet carry him to the common room and he immediately makes out two familiar silhouettes, brought to life by the fireplace that’s been lit.

Jungkook hears Jimin and Namjoon chat. They aren’t talking about anything particularly dire, just silly topics like this week’s coming menu for meals and what stationery they’ll need for their final exams.

It goes on for a few minutes, and Jungkook wonders why they feel the need to hang out without him.

“We should head back,” Jimin suddenly says, voice barely rising above the crackling of the fireplace. “Jungkook might wake up and it won’t be nice if he’s alone.”

“Can’t we stay a little longer?” Namjoon asks.

“We’ve chatted for so long now,” Jimin says easily.

“Does it pain you so much? To be alone with me?” Namjoon asks, and Jungkook’s nerves surge.

There’s a few seconds of thick silence.

“Of course not,” Jimin responds. 

Jungkook peeks around the corner, seeing the way Jimin seems swallowed by the large armchair he’s curled up in, a blanket over his lithe frame, feet tucked underneath him.

“Even back when we’d travelled to your beach home for the summer,” Namjoon says. “I’d woken you up to see the crabs and go for a midnight walk on the shore.”

“Namjoon-”

“And all you could talk about was how Jungkook would’ve loved to see everything. All you wanted to do was go back to him.”

Jungkook didn’t know that. He just thought that they were happy on their own and that Namjoon was slowly taking roots in Jimin’s life and occupying his place. 

“All I wanted was to be alone with you so that he wouldn’t be there to steal your vision, even if for only a moment. But even when he isn’t around, his ghost still follows you. It’s like it physically pains you to be apart from him, to have sacred experiences that he isn’t involved in.”

“I-”

“I know you got my letter, Jimin,” Namjoon reveals, and Jimin’s attempts to circumvent the conversation collapse into smoke. “Be honest with me. Am I being hopeless in my dreams? Is my bravery rooted in foolishness and deluded thought?”

“No,” Jimin says immediately. “You mean the world to me, as does Jungkook-”

“We are not the same in your eyes.” Namjoon cuts. 

“No one can ever be what he is,” Jimin responds firmly. “He’s been a part of me for longer than I can remember. I cannot give you what you want of me because that part of my soul has always belonged to him.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen.

“I love you, Namjoon,” Jimin says shakily. “I really do. But I can’t love you, or anyone, the way I love him. I’ve never been able to, and I don’t think I ever will. If there was ever a time I wasn’t in love with him, I don’t remember it now. Even as a child, he was my, my-.”

“Your rainbow-scaled fish.”

“Y-Yes.”

“He’s hurt you before, though,” Namjoon says.

“He has,” Jimin responds. “But love takes time, and sometimes it’s a rough process. He hasn’t hurt me in forever, and there’s a part of me that’ll still yearn for him even if I bleed out.”

Jungkook won’t ever hide his feelings anymore. 

“You’re willing to take that risk?” Namjoon asks. “This world ends in less than a month. After that, you’ll be miles apart.”

“We’re caught in each other’s orbit,” Jimin reveals. “We can’t ever drift too far from each other.”

“You’re confident.,”

“It’s hard not to be. I’ve never known a different reality.”

“Your future could change.”

“Still. Even then.”

They’re both silent for a few seconds, and Jimin is the one who breaks it.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon,” Jimin says softly. “No matter how many times I’ve had this conversation with others, it still cuts just as badly. But now it’s worse because you’re so dear to me and I can’t stand hurting you.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Namjoon responds. “I did say in my letter that I had expected this and that I am fully content in simply being your friend. I meant it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I am,” Namjoon says. “I’m not going to be upset with you for not returning my feelings. That’s unfair.”

“Thank you,” Jimin responds meekly. “Still, I'm sorry for hurting your feelings. You’re too good to me. I don’t deserve you.”

“On the contrary, actually.” Namjoon smiles. “Do you really think I didn’t realize that the mysterious donor for my hospital bills was you?”

Jimin smiles sheepishly.

“Jimin. That’s not fair.”

“Of course it is.”

“I’ll be paying you back-”

“We’ll decide that later,” Jimin announces and Jungkook jumps when hears him stand up, the chair dragging behind him slightly. “Let’s head back to sleep.”

Namjoon surges forward and pulls Jimin into a warm hug, arms wrapped tightly around him. Jimin freezes before he returns the embrace, small hands spanning the other boy’s broad back.

“Thank you,” Namjoon tells him. “For everything.”

Jimin doesn’t respond, rather hugging him tighter and swaying with him.

Jungkook realizes distantly that his heart has stopped bleeding, as if the blade were removed. He turns around and starts to walk back to their room, wanting to let Namjoon and Jimin have this moment. 

Everything feels like a dream as he travels back. His feet pad across the soft carpet of the corridor that’s illuminated only by the pale moonlight. Jungkook feels like he’s in bliss; partly because he’s still sleepy and also because his head is in the clouds, in positive heaven after hearing Jimin’s words.

They’re meant to be together, and Jimin believes it too. He always has, just like Jungkook.

Jimin believes in them.

Jungkook will too.

Once he’s in bed, he closes his eyes, a serene smile pulling lazily at his mouth. He’s already asleep by the time Jimin returns, not awake for the soft kiss the other boy places on his lips once he’s in bed too, the two of them under the safety of their blanket.

-

Jungkook organizes a date for the two of them.

It’s symbolic, in some sense. Another picnic by the lake. The last time was 5 years ago.

This time, Jungkook’s put in more effort. For starters, he has a candle for romantic lighting. He even asked one of the cooks in the kitchen to save some roast veggies, meat and bread for him to take later. There’s some sweet apple juice and some biscuits too. He even brought a book on astronomy and constellations he saw in the library so that they could stargaze together. 

Jungkook goes to set up everything while Jimin’s on the phone in the reception with his family. They’re planning how they’re going to pack up his stuff and if he’s being honest, Jungkook doesn’t want to hear it. He doesn’t want to think about their room being empty, and their beds being bare, the shelves in the bathroom void of their products and toothbrushes.

When he’s done, he waits by the stairs till he sees Jimin hang up the phone. The other boy turns around, eyes widening a little when he sees him.

Jungkook feels himself fall in love all over again.

“I thought you were upstairs.” Jimin smiles, eyebrows furrowing with surprise.

“Are you hungry?” He asks.

“I’m always hungry,” Jimin responds, fingers curling instinctively around Jungkook’s when he takes his hand. “Are we sneaking into the kitchens?”

“No,” Jungkook says, leading Jimin down the dark corridors.

“Are we going to eat in the field?” Jimin asks once more, and Jungkook shushes him, bringing his hand up to kiss his knuckles.

“Just come.”

“Okay,” Jimin responds almost giddily, small hand tight in his, almost sweaty with excitement. It’s so easy to please Jimin, and Jungkook wishes he could turn back time to do stuff like this for him all the time.

There’s something electric simmering in his veins - like he’ll remember this night, this silly Tuesday in 1945 for the rest of his life.  

Jimin realizes as soon as they take a left turn toward the pool. He bombards Jungkook with more questions which he doesn’t entertain.

Jungkook asks Jimin to wait by the entrance as he scurries in and quickly lights the candle with the matchbox he brought with him, frantically making sure everything is in order.

“Okay, you can come now,” Jungkook calls, his heart in his throat with nerves. His eyes are as wide as a doe’s as he waits, although he softens when Jimin peeks his head in first.

The happiness is immediate.

“A date!” He cheers, so happy he seems to overflow with it. He runs toward Jungkook and wraps him in a tight hug, pressing several kisses to his cheeks and one particularly hard one on his lips.

“Happy?”

“Of course I am!” Jimin says once he pulls back, eyes sparkling. “You stole my idea though.,”

“No, I didn’t,” Jungkook pouts. “I have a candle for ambience. You could never dream of such innovation.”

Jimin huffs, and Jungkook pulls him to sit down. It’s easy after that, and they begin to eat and talk about their day. Jimin talks about how he’s going to start packing tomorrow, the little things first.

Jungkook just nods. He lets his mind drift, all he can think about being how gorgeous Jimin is. He eventually lies down on Jimin’s lap, eyes pressed shut, ears open to the serene melody of his voice. It’s so calming.

“Jungkook?” Jimin asks. His voice is soft and sweet, and it works lightly to lull Jungkook out of the peaceful sanctity of his dreams. He was just about to slip away, his eyes burning with fatigue.

“Yeah, Minnie?” He responds. The tiles of the area by the swimming pool are hard against his back but his head is cushioned on Jimin’s soft thigh, the other boy’s fingers running through his hair in soothing touches.

“Where do we go, from here?” He asks.

Jungkook opens his eyes.

He looks up at Jimin, at the reflections the underlit water projects on his face. His black hair that’s always neat no matter how much Jungkook roughs it up, his soft features that always remain gentle even in distress. The way Jimin looks at him, like he’s his entire world.

This time of night, he shouldn’t glow so brightly.

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asks. He lets his eyes drift to the rest of the indoor pool area they’re in, the moonlight streaming in through the skylight above, the daunting silence that surrounds them. He can see hints of the peaks of the mountains surrounding their school, dark and ominous in the night sky.

It feels like no one exists but them.

“I feel like we’ve been so wrapped up in our world.” Jimin begins, and Jungkook hangs off his every word. “That we’ve failed to realize that there’s so much beyond. That there’s more than just you and me, and the life we’ve led over the past 13 years, and I don’t think I can survive the bubble bursting.”

Jungkook stares.

“So tell me, Jungkook,” Jimin says. “Where do we go from here?”

“I’ll follow you wherever you go,” Jungkook answers unhesitatingly, blinking up at him.

“You know,” Jimin says softly, his hand moving down to cup the side of his face. “Back when I kissed you and it didn’t go well, I never imagined that we’d be here today. That you would say these things to me, love me as you do.”

Jungkook stares.

“I’ll fix it now,” He eventually says, sitting up on his elbows and kissing Jimin deeply. The other boy gasps into his mouth, the hand that was cupping his cheek now holding him close, tender.

The way Jungkook kisses him reflects the maelstrom of feelings running deep in his veins - they’re running out of time and he wants to make the most of the little they have left. He lets his body flow on instinct, rolling them over such that Jimin’s on his back on the fleece blanket, Jungkook crawling over him.

“Really?” Jimin smiles against his lips, fingers wound tight in his hair. “Here?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook responds in between nipping at his lips, wanting to deepen the kiss. “Friends kiss each other wherever and whenever they please.”

Jimin laughs and Jungkook finds himself grinning too, unable to believe his reality. His head is spinning and reality feels altered, like no one exists on this planet but them, and that there isn’t a world beyond the glass dome of the indoor pool.

They’re in the centre of the galaxy.

Jungkook stares at Jimin, at the moonlight painting his features. The other boy is still smiling, eyes curved into crescents with giddiness but there’s a sparkle somewhere deep within that tells Jungkook that he understands their gravity too.

“I love you more than anything else I’ve ever known,” Jungkook tells him. “I loved you before I knew what love was.”

Jimin’s smile starts to fade, and Jungkook sees his eyes start to grow wet, reflecting the constellations above them.

“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says softly. “Do you feel it too?”

“Of course I do.” Jimin whispers. “I always have.”

Jungkook leans down to capture his lips with his again and this time, it’s electric. He feels more energized and charged the longer they trade sticky kisses, sitting back up to yank his shirt off his head and fling it somewhere onto the cool tiles by the pool. His hair is ruffled and messy, eyes blown wide. Jimin’s lips are swollen and wet.

Jimin unbuttons his shirt too, delicate fingers popping the buttons and slipping the loose fabric off his slim shoulders. He’s a lot more gentle in the way he discards his clothing, and Jungkook wastes no time in diving down and kissing a hot trail down his neck.

He can feel goosebumps erupt across Jimin’s skin the further he goes, nipping at the delicate skin of his swan-like neck, leaving blooms of pretty pink he hopes never disappears. He takes the liberty of sliding his other hand into Jimin’s pants, palming at the soft fabric of his underwear and drinking in his choked little gasp. He’s already hard, leaking in his panties.

“Jimin, my pretty princess.”

Jimin’s breath hitches.

Jungkook’s already done away with his pants and underwear by the time he kisses down Jimin’s soft tummy, sucking in a few hickeys into the thin layer of fat over it. He knows Jimin likes hickeys - has seen him pressing down on them during the day subconsciously, always shivering a little after.

Jimin won’t admit it, but Jungkook will take pleasure in it regardless.

His fingers easily grasp around Jimin’s cock, fingers curling over the flushed length. Jimin’s leaking so much, a thick string of precum pearling from the head and dripping down over his own thigh.

He jerks it lightly, moving his hand in firm strokes, making sure to dig his thumb into the wet slit because he likes the way Jimin’s thighs shake. He leans in to bite, feeling the way it quivers against his teeth.

“Baby-” Jimin breathes out, already seeming overwhelmed. His head is turned to the side, hair fanned over the blanket, back arching as Jungkook closes his lips around the tip of his cock.

“O-Oh-”

Jungkook sinks down the length, letting his large hands drift up to close around Jimin’s ribcage, feeling his heart pound deep within his precious bones. He hollows his cheeks, swiping his tongue over the frenulum, bobbing his head up and down.

Jimin seems unable to form words, just gasping repeatedly, hips rolling upward into Jungkook’s mouth.

Jungkook realized very early on that he’s addicted to pleasuring Jimin. Most of the time, his own release takes a backseat, and he thinks he can spend hours like this; just watching Jimin fall apart, knowing that it’s because of him. They haven’t ventured very far into the throes of sexual intimacy, but the few times they’ve toed the line have always rung loud and clear in Jungkook’s mind.

He swirls his tongue around the sensitive head of Jimin’s cock, eyes trained on his to capture every single reaction. Jimin’s soft thighs bracket his face, the pale skin cool from the Winter night and he smells so clean and beautiful and everything Jungkook has loved for as long as he can remember.

Jimin’s small fingers travel to Jungkook’s hair once he starts to near his peak, tugging weakly at the dark, unruly strands.

“O-Off-” He orders, breathless and raspy.

Jungkook pulls off with a pop, almost irritated at the interruption. He peers up at Jimin curiously.

“What is it?” He asks, immediately noting the way Jimin’s cheeks flush a darker shade.

“I want to do s-something different,” Jimin says. “Don’ wanna cum yet.”

“Like what?” Jungkook asks, crawling back over him and dropping a kiss over his lips.

Jimin’s hand shyly dips down to touch fleetingly over the tent in Jungkook’s pants, dipping down the waistband to hold loosely over the thick girth.

“I w-want you to fuck me.”

Jungkook’s eyes immediately widen, at the same time as his cock hardens even further. He’s never heard Jimin curse, and there’s something incredibly arousing about it.

“How?”

“I t-tried the other day in the bath, with my fingers, and it felt good-” Jimin reveals, almost tomato red, eyes glassy and lips swollen.

Jungkook remembers that day. When he’d walked into the bathroom without knocking, zero regard for privacy when it’s just them, noticing the way Jimin jerked in the tub. His cheeks were ruddy red, and his legs spread and his arms yanked away from between, splashing the soapy water.

Now he knows what he was up to.

“Yeah?” He responds, smile turning a little dangerous. “Wanna show me?”

Jimin seems almost scandalized, eyes widening.

“N-No!” He protests, voice suddenly taking a higher pitch. “It’s embarrassing!”

“Your cock was in my mouth less than five minutes ago.”

“Still…” Jimin whines.

“I want to see,” Jungkook says. “Show me.”

It takes some coaxing but Jimin eventually gives in, leaning back against the blanket and spreading his legs. Jungkook watches with dark eyes as he brings up a finger to his mouth, sucking on it to coat the digit with saliva. He imagines his lips wrapped around his cock, and just the thought of it is enough for his cock to twitch.

Once his finger is wet enough, Jimin parts his thighs wider. His finger travels down to prod at his tight pink hole that Jungkook finds he can’t take his eyes off. Jimin’s eyes flutter shut as he circles the wet finger around the rim, breathing starting to become laboured.

He pushes in the finger slowly, gasping out loud.

Jungkook thinks his cock is about to burst. It feels like he’s dreaming; the sight before him so arousing it shouldn’t be possible. It feels like something out of an erotic magazine, except he’s seeing it first-hand.

“It feels good?” Jungkook asks.

Jimin just nods shakily, thrusting his short finger in and out of himself. 

“Feels s-so good-”

Jungkook’s moving before he realizes it. He prods at Jimin’s mouth with two fingers, caressing the plump flesh of his lips.

“Suck.”

His cock is almost painfully hard, an angry shade of red as he watches Jimin obey almost immediately. The other boy listens without a single word, sucking obscenely at his fingers with little grace, his own finger still lodged in his tight heat.

Jungkook feels a little mean and pushes his fingers in further, watching the way Jimin gags on the long digits, lips stretched wide and pink over them.

When he pulls them out they’re almost soaked, saliva dripping down them in viscous strings. Jungkook wastes no time in pulling Jimin’s finger out of himself and pressing his own to the fluttering rim.

“Two?” He asks.

“Y-Yeah.”

Jungkook pushes in, a lick of heat in his gut at how tight he is. Jimin’s eyes are blown wide too and all Jungkook can imagine is how amazing he would feel around his cock. He watches carefully for any discomfort in his features before he starts to fuck his fingers in, addicted to the way Jimin’s hole just gives around his fingers, as if begging for more.

Jimin’s chest rises and falls with deep breaths, seeming beside himself with pleasure.

“It’s different when you do it.” He says, cheekbones dusted prettily with pink. 

“That’s because I don’t have baby fingers like you,” Jungkook teases, increasing the pace. The meat of his palm collides with Jimin’s cheeks each time he thrusts in, reducing him to a whimpering mess. 

“S-Shut up-” Jimin breathes out but it’s weak, his eyebrows furrowing and mouth dropping open and Jungkook takes it a notch higher, his fingers slamming into his tight heat.

Jungkook pulls out and spits into his hand, inserting three fingers this time. He stretches them, just focusing on going deeper, watching the way Jimin’s ass cheeks are now splotchy pink due to the constant impact from his hand. He drives his hand upwards, noticing the way Jimin’s hips jump, back arching.

“A-Again-” Jimin commands like an entitled brat. Jungkook obeys.

He repeats the action, noticing when his fingers come into contact with the bundle of nerves that seem to drive Jimin crazy. He presses down onto it, drinking in the way Jimin’s eyes roll into the back of his head, thighs quivering almost involuntarily.

Jungkook’s cock is painfully hard, straining against the front of his unbuttoned pants. He thrusts his fingers into Jimin at a deadly pace, slamming them into his prostate and giving him little respite to catch his breath. Jimin seems overwhelmed, writhing over the blanket, just taking what he’s given. 

Jungkook pulls out when he notices his breath start to peak, pitching high, inhales sharper. 

Jimin whines from the loss, already looking spent, pink cock drooling precum over his own tummy. Jungkook can’t tear his eyes away from his gaping hole, fluttering as if unhappy to be empty.

“Put it in,” Jimin says weakly, reaching blindly for Jungkook’s clothed cock. “Please...just-”

“Can’t be empty for a second, huh?” Jungkook chuckles, swiftly discarding his pants and underwear. His cock is stiff and proud and somehow, it looks so big compared to Jimin. He wraps a hand around it, hissing at the contact that almost feels like heaven after all the neglect so far.

“You might break,” Jungkook tells him.

“Sounds brilliant,” Jimin insists, obviously impatient. “Fuck me.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Jungkook chuckles, spitting down onto his hand and lubing up his cock as much as he can. He presses the head to Jimin’s rim, his heart thundering in his chest with anticipation, and pushes in.

The first thing he thinks about is that the pressure is unimaginable, and then it hits him all at once; that this is his first time, and Jimin’s, and that they’re doing it together. 

He moves slowly, wanting to savour the moment  Jimin exhales shakily as Jungkook rolls his hips into him smoothly, wrapping his thighs around his slim waist. Jungkook leans down so that he blankets his frame, pulling him into a deep kiss to help Jimin ease into it.

Jungkook feels like every inch of him is on fire, his mind caught in a tight battle between losing control and prolonging the magic; his hips itch to just start fucking him into him with abandon, let the passion rise to the surface and overtake his inhibitions.

When Jimin starts to pathetically attempt to meet his thrusts, that’s when the last string of control snaps, leaving Jungkook untethered and free to fall victim to his deeper instincts.

He slams his hips into him, years of athleticism and rigorous training finally paying off. He’d always worked so hard just to impress Jimin and it’s paying off now. He watches the way Jimin squeaks as soon as his pace turns animalistic, manicured nails clawing ribbons of red down his back. He’s getting jostled up the blanket with every hard thrust, the soft fleece bunching up under his back.

“J-Jungkook-” He gasps out, and Jungkook savours the sound of his name on his tongue, how overwhelmed Jimin seems to be already. His thighs burn with the effort but he doesn’t slow down his pace for a single breath; driving into him so fast that Jimin can’t hold onto a single coherent thought, just lie there all pretty and take it.

“Feels better than it did in the bath, right?” Jungkook breathes hotly in his ear, grabbing Jimin’s waist and yanking him onto his cock with every thrust. The other boy’s head lolls, face pink and sweaty. Jungkook brings a hand up to tweak harshly at his rosy nipple, smiling dangerously. 

Distantly, he thinks he’s gone feral.

Jimin whines, his small hand attempting pitifully to pry Jungkook’s off his sensitive nipple. Jungkook grabs both of his wrists in one hand and pins them over his head, rendering him immobile. Jimin’s eyes glass over further, all that’s able to leave his mouth being staccato moans that he can’t seem to suppress.

“I’m going to touch you if I want to,” Jungkook tells him, going back to teasing his sore nipples, rolling it in between the rough pads of his fingers. Jimin’s wrists go limp in his grip, letting Jungkook have his way with him, jerking with every hard thrust into his ruined hole.

“Nnh-”

The sound of their hips colliding echoes loudly in the wide chamber of the indoor pool and Jimin’s eyes are wet, reflecting a million different stars and dreams. Jungkook fucks directly into his prostate, angling his hips just right, hanging off every single one of Jimin’s reactions.

He looks down at how Jimin’s rim is stretched wide around his cock, pink and irritated, the friction on just the right side of dry. Jungkook’s sure Jimin has lots of essential oils they can put to good use.

Right now, he wants Jimin to feel every inch of him.

Jungkook leans down to bite the shell of Jimin’s ear, relishing the other boy’s stuttered breathing against his neck. He jerks weakly every time Jungkook slams into his prostate, slight gurgles all that leaves his mouth after they reach a certain point. Jungkook’s proud of his stamina, unrelenting and determined. His abdominal muscles are tensed with effort, sweat dripping down the side of his forehead, thighs flexing with his rapid thrusts.

Jimin cums first. It catches the both of them off guard, his cum splattering across his own face and chest with the way he’s fucked roughly through it. Jungkook doesn’t let up for a second, even increasing the pace, greedily drinking in the way he drives Jimin into oversensitivity.

Soon, he’s writhing over the blanket, breath high and peaking, cock soft and sharply sensitive. He jerks every time Jungkook touches the ruddy head of it, digging his finger into the slit.

“You’ve never felt this good, huh?” Jungkook responds, never having seen Jimin in such bliss before, unable to gather his bearings. “Happiest when you’re stuffed full of cock.”

He can feel his own climax approaching, the tightly wound coil in his gut close to snapping. His eyes are blazing, lips melded to Jimin’s even when the other boy starts to drool, body twitching under him. He feels electric.

“I think I’ve fucked your brains out,” Jungkook laughs, breathy and rough. “I’ll make sure you’re full all the time~”

Jimin cums once more, whining weakly into his mouth, every sharp breath and trembled exhale swallowed by Jungkook.

“You’re mine, mine mine mine-” Jungkook repeats against his lips. His orgasm blindsides him, heavy cock releasing thick ribbons of cum into Jimin’s raw hole. He continues to fuck him, riding out his orgasm with gritted teeth.

He slumps over Jimin’s small frame and the both of them pant for a while, Jungkook presses soft kisses to his neck and runs his hands soothingly up and down his side. One of Jimin’s thighs is trembling, quivering lightly.

“I thought I was in heaven for the longest while,” Jimin eventually says, a worn-out smile on his face. “I love you. Thank you for doing this for me; the date, everything.”

Jungkook gives him a goofy smile, toothy and wide, nuzzling his nose into the soft skin of his neck and breathing in his natural scent.

“I’d do anything for you.”

“Fuck me every day,” Jimin responds immediately. “Before class, after class, before we sleep, when we wake up, in the bath-”

“Sure, you little brat. I’ll fuck you all you want,” Jungkook grins, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. 

It’s giddy and they take their time to dress, cleaning up together and skipping off to their room. Jimin has a slight limp, mind a little spacey but he’s glowing. They take a bath as soon as they return to their room and there’s something sad clawing at Jungkook’s heart when he sees his cum drip down Jimin’s thighs and down the drain.

Still, he feels unbelievably happy once he’s dressed in a set of fresh, new pyjamas, tucked into Jimin’s bed with his nose buried into his neck. They feel closer now than they did before if it was possible, and Jungkook watches him till he falls asleep, maybe for a little while after too until he loses himself to the soothing sounds of Jimin’s breathing.

Just before he falls into his subconscious, Jungkook thinks he catches sight of the Pegasus Jimin claimed to have seen all those years ago fly by their window, soaring through the night sky like a thread of starlight.

-

Jungkook barely registers when their last week of school begins.

Their exams breezed by and everyone was super excited, thrilled to be done with all of the studying, talking about universities and dreams and dazzling futures.

All Jungkook could think about was that everything is going to change. He’s going to be yanked out of everything he knows.

His father told him that this school produces fine young men of high calibre and merit.

Is he one of them?

Jimin definitely is. So is Namjoon. So are all of his rough teammates and the other rowdy students that they share their dorm with. Everyone has grown.

“What are you thinking about?” Jimin asks him in between sticky kisses, his bare torso pressed against his in the early morning. It started off slow, just Jungkook waking up to find himself drawn to Jimin who’d somehow woken up at the same time too, trading lazy kisses that seem to calm the heavy beating of his heart.

Jungkook looks up at him from where he lies on the bed, breathing in the sight of him. He’s so beautiful that he steals the breath out of his lungs, and Jungkook’s heart squeezes in his chest almost painfully. The gravity of Jimin’s presence always blindsides him.

“We won’t disappear, right?” He asks.

Jimin has secured admission to a top engineering school in the capital. They’d had a little party too in their room, just close friends. Namjoon too, the same campus and the same faculty. This time, Jungkook was the one who fumbled and bumbled to steal food from the kitchens so they could celebrate.

He has gotten admission to good universities too, but he’s been waitlisted for Jimin’s.

The final results should arrive any day now.

“What?” Jimin asks, brows furrowing and mouth curving upward as it does when he’s particularly enamoured by Jungkook.

Jungkook opens his mouth to repeat himself but finds the words caught in his throat. He doesn’t want to ruin this, the sanctity and bubble they’re in. He wants to make the most of this final week.

“I love you more than words can describe,” Jungkook says instead, smoothing his hands down Jimin’s slim waist. They’ve fallen into sexual intimacy rather quickly, and it’s always been natural, like strokes of paint against glass and the melting of butter. They flow together.

It’s always wordless with them.

Jimin’s face softens, teasing mood evaporating into the hazy air. He leans down and kisses Jungkook once more, straddling his lap. 

Jungkook melts into the kiss, wondering if they’ll have the time to have one final party with the owls before this world collapses into the recesses of his mind, only but a memory.

-

Due to the rainstorm that’s been happening over the past few days, nobody has been coming up to the mountain to deliver mail. That means that Jungkook’s results are stuck in a storage room down in the main city, holding the key to his future.

Jungkook, in a haze of panic and pressure to answer, revealed to Jimin that he’s decided to take a break before starting university. That has somehow led to Jimin looking for homes and apartments near his campus for the both of them to live in.

He’ll be in big trouble if he doesn’t get in. Jimin is already so excited, and there’s no way his family will ever tolerate him taking a gap year. He has good grades, but whether they’re good enough for the most prestigious university in the country is up for debate.

Jimin doesn’t even know that he applied. 

And if there’s one thing Jimin hates, it’s secrets. 

Jungkook asks Namjoon what to do one evening. There’s barely 4 days of school left, and if Jungkook doesn’t get in and Jimin discovers that he lied to protect a sacred dream, they’ll have to part ways upset. He doesn’t want that at all, can’t think of anything worse.

“So you aren’t taking a gap year?” Namjoon asks him, quirking an eyebrow. They’re in the library, the other boy wanting to make the most of the resources before school ends.

“N-No,” Jungkook responds. “At least, I don’t think so. It sounded alright in my head. If I don’t get in with you guys, I’ll take a break for a year and apply then. But then when I tried to reveal that plan to my father I could already feel him slitting my throat.”

“But what do you want?”

“I want to be with Jimin,” He answers, so easy that it shouldn’t be possible.

“Even if it means standing up to your family?”

“Yeah.” Jungkook answers without a moment’s hesitation. “I would. It just feels like there wouldn’t be any point if he wasn’t with me, you know? We’d be on the opposite ends of the country.”

Namjoon smiles.

“I just need to be brave enough,” Jungkook says meekly.

“You’ve been more than brave,” Namjoon says. “Coming to my room and telling me to back off. Remember that?”

“Shut up.” Jungkook pouts, pushing lightly at his shoulder. “I was going through a...a phase.”

“You figured it out then, didn’t you? You’ll figure it out now too. But I suggest you be honest.”

Jungkook knows he should be honest. Just when he thought he’d found true happiness, something swoops in to take it all away.

Everything feels fleeting, and Jungkook hopes that what he feels is enough to stand the test of time.

-

The day the mail comes, Jungkook is late. There’d been a slight water shortage and Jimin insisted on bathing first as soon as the pipes were up and running again, making Jungkook miss the mailman.

He’d already left by the time he heard and scurried down to the reception, scouring hastily through the pile of mail. There are none addressed to him, and his stomach sinks to the ground as if packed full of rocks.

Why?

What if he was forgotten? What if the mail was lost, and he was accepted, and now there’s no way for him to accept the offer? What if they thought his application was so ridiculous that they didn’t bother to send a follow-up?

Jungkook can’t stop the frustrated and heartbroken tears rolling down his cheeks. All he’s ever wanted was Jimin, and he’s lost that too. 13 years weren’t enough. He wants it to continue because they’re meant to be together.

They are, right?

Jungkook trudges his way to the telephone with dead eyes, dialling his father’s office number. He picks up after a few rings that feel like a million lifetimes.

“Hello?”

“Father, it’s me.”

“Jungkook! How are you, son?”

“I...need to tell you something.”

A few seconds of silence.

“Is everything alright? Are you hurt?”

“No, everything’s fine-” Jungkook grimaces, the words caught in his throat. “I j-just wanted to talk to you about something.”

“What is it?”

“I-I-” He starts, forcing himself through it. “I was thinking of taking a gap year, and using that time to study and enter a better college.”

The response is instantaneous.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll sit at home for an entire year? Doing nothing?”

“I’ll stay with Jimin in the capital. He’s going to the National University-”

“The colleges you’ve been accepted to are perfectly fine. They’re all high ranking. Don’t be hasty, son. I know that you want to be close to your friends but I won’t let you compromise on your future.”

“Jimin is my future.”

“Jungkook-”

“I l-love him. We’re together, in a relationship. I want to marry him someday.” He reveals, nervous beyond comparison.

There’s a long pause after that, and Jungkook’s heart is in his throat.

“Is that so?” His father eventually says, his voice having softened. “You’ve been caught in love’s trap, have you?”

“Yes.”

“Jungkook...are you sure about this?” His father asks.

“It’s the only thing I’m sure about,” Jungkook says into the receiver, his back ramrod straight. 

Jungkook’s father sighs into the phone.

“I’m happy that you’re in love. Believe me, I am.” He says. “But is it worth sacrificing a year of your life? Jimin comes from power, and I don’t want you to fall behind him. The two of you are equal. Would it be right in your eyes, living off him for a year?”

“I’ll work,” Jungkook says immediately, chest puffing up. “I’ll find jobs in between studying. I’ll be the one to look after us, not Jimin. He won’t have to lift a single finger.”

His father chuckles.

“You’re exactly like me.”

Jungkook laughs too, although it’s a little sad.

“If this is what feels right to you, as much as it saddens me,” Jungkook’s father starts. “I won’t stop you.”

A wave of relief washes over him.

“Thank you, father.”

“Call home more often. Your mother misses you too.”

“I will.”

“Bye, son. Go to class.”

“Goodbye,” Jungkook says blankly, putting the phone back in the receiver. His hands are shaking, and he’s so, so relieved. It went so much better than he thought it would.

Jungkook breezes through the rest of his classes that aren’t really classes; just bonding with the teachers they’ve known for years before the senior batch departs for good. They play games and chat rather than study, and the entire school day feels like reality is altered.

He takes the liberty to join his friends for one of the last lacrosse games they might have the time to play before they leave, running across the pitch, every bit of him inclined to the muscle memory he’s developed over the years. He hopes he’ll always be able to play, oxygen flowing freely through his lungs as he runs across the pitch, sweat cooling on his skin. He thinks about the years he’s spent here, growing into his body, the number of times he’s tripped and fallen and speeded across the vivid green grass.

Inside, he’s happy too. There’s a part of him that’s settled, his future falling into place.

Jimin always tells him that everything happens for the best. There are no accidents, and maybe Jungkook was always destined to not receive a certain envelope one early winter morning.

He doesn’t see Jimin in the dining hall during tea. Still, he’s ravenous as he always is after practice and downs lots of biscuits, sandwiches and hot tea. It feels like he has good news to tell Jimin but in reality, he doesn’t. This is what he told Jimin right at the start, and it’s come true now.

Play it cool, he tells himself when he’s on his way upstairs.

Jungkook walks toward their door, and he can hear Jimin humming through the wood. He opens it without further ado, walking straight in and flashing Jimin a very natural smile.

“Hey, Minnie.” He smiles.

Jimin’s laying in bed, wearing just a shirt and Jungkook’s mouth goes partly dry. The diminishing sun almost forms a halo over his head, bare thighs spread over the mattress. He’s reading some fashion magazine, setting it down once he enters.

“Hello,” He responds, eyes widening a little, his irises sparkling.

Jungkook gulps.

“Why didn’t you come down for tea?” He asks, pulling off his sweaty clothes and discarding them over the floor.

His back is to Jimin, and he hears him step out of bed and onto his feet, approaching him.

Jimin wraps his arms around him from behind, pressing his pretty face into his sweaty shoulder blade. Heat rises to his cheeks, heart swelling, warm and cloying.

“I don’t know,” He says and he sounds excited. “Why didn’t you tell me you applied to my university?”

Jungkook freezes. The surprise prickles at him sharply and he almost feels like he’s been slapped across the face. 

“What?” He asks, sure he’d heard Jimin wrong.

Jimin turns him around, pressing in close. He rests his chin on Jungkook’s chest, looking up at him like he’s his entire world.

“Baby, ‘m sweaty-” Jungkook protests, gently gripping Jimin’s slender shoulders and trying to pull him off. 

“I said,” Jimin starts. “Why didn’t you tell me you applied to my university?”

Jungkook’s heart hammers in his chest, ringing loudly in his ears. 

“Do I need to repeat myself again?” Jimin asks.

“N-No.”

“Then answer me.”

Jimin’s face is blank but his eyes indicate that he’s happy, not cold and sharp as they become when he’s angry. It helps calm him down a little.

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to raise hopes for both you and me. I wasn’t sure if it would work out.” He answers honestly.

“Well lucky I found out anyway, isn’t it?”

“Namjoon.” Jungkook curses. “That snitch.”

“Namjoon?” Jimin frowns, as if perplexed. “You told him and not me? What-”

Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to be confused.

“Namjoon didn’t tell you? Then how’d you know?”

“I got your letter, silly. I collected my own mail this morning and spotted yours in the pile. Mr Oh told me to collect it for you as you’ve apparently been hounding him for it the entire week.”

Jungkook’s mind goes blank.

“That’s why I didn’t come down for tea. I was waiting for you so we could have this very necessary conversation.” Jimin frowns.

“Where’s the letter?” Jungkook asks fervently, urged, eyes crazed. “Where is it?” He asks once more, resting his hands on Jimin’s hips and gently moving him to the side, scanning the room for it.

Jimin walks over to his desk and picks up an envelope.

“I was waiting for you to open it.”  He says softly, handing it to him. 

“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook asks him, eyes wide. “For hiding it?”

“That’s not important right now,” Jimin says, wrapping his arms around his waist once more, hooking his head over his shoulder. “Let’s see. Aren’t you desperate to know? I know I am.”

He is. He’s also terrified, stomach knotting uncontrollably with anxiety.

“Open it, my love.” Jimin prods.

Jungkook’s fingers are shaky but they seem to work, using the fancy letter opener Jimin hands him to undo the adhesive seal. Jimin takes the envelope from him once the letter is out, pressing a soft kiss to his neck for pre-emptive comfort.

He unfolds the paper, eyes wide and lungs squeezing, scanning over the contents of the email.

“Oh.”

Jimin practically screams with happiness, spinning him around and hugging him so tight that breathing becomes a task. Jungkook rests an arm around his lower back instinctively but lets himself dwell on what the letter says. It hits him all at once albeit delayed.

He’s been accepted.

He’s going to the best university in their country, one that he thought was out of reach. He’s going to be studying what he wants on a stunning campus. He’s going to fulfil his dream.

He’s going to be with Jimin.

Jungkook lets the letter drop to the floor, returning Jimin’s embrace with both arms. He buries his face into his neck, uncaring of the tears streaming down his face, so happy it threatens to overcome him entirely and leave him bare.

“Are you happy?” Jimin asks him. “I’m the happiest person in the world. This is a dream come true.”

Jungkook can’t find words, just holding him tight, so relieved. Jimin takes his face in his hands and wipes away his tears, eyes softening as he looks at him.

“My baby,” He says, leaning in to kiss him.

Jungkook lets himself fall into it, into the golden dusk and the two of them tucked away into their little corner of the world.

Everything is golden.

-

Leaving school is one of the hardest things Jungkook has ever done. 

He never thought himself to be a sentimental person, but it took all of him to be able to say goodbye. To say goodbye to his home for 13 years, the birthing ground for his brightest dreams and warmest memories.

Seeing their empty room, void of their belongings was one of the most difficult experiences he’d had to go through.  To know that he'd never take another bath there, or fall alseep in the familiar bed, no longer spend nights studying or Sunday mornings cuddled up. 

They take their time to say goodbye, Jimin and him, walking around the sprawling stone structure. Over the fields, the courtyard, to the library, stargazing tower, the reception, dining hall, down the long stone corridors and stairs they’ve traversed through more times than he can count, and the indoor pool. He kisses Jimin under the large willow tree he always used to read under, remembering the countless times he’d wished to before they were together. They said goodbye to the owls perched on the tree outside their room.

They’ll return in Spring for their graduation ceremony, but still.

When he turns around and looks back at the school once he’s at the gates, he sees a million memories all at once, every single moment precious in his eyes.

On the train journey back to the mainland, all of their luggage tucked in the overhead storeage, Jungkook finds his mind drifting.

Namjoon is asleep in the seat opposite theirs, a book between his fingers that's on the verge of slipping to the floor.

He looks down at where his and Jimin’s hands are intertwined tightly on the seat, the both of them tucked into the corner, pressed flush together. Jimin’s fast asleep too, head resting on his shoulder. 

Jungkook looks at the chocolate bar on the seat next to him, kept for Jimin to eat once he wakes up from his nap.

He thinks back to how 13 years ago, they’d done this for the first time. It’s almost eerie - how everything is exactly the same. The first time they met as children, the beginning of the most meaningful relationship in Jungkook’s life. How Jimin already saw him as precious back then too, their destinies intertwined in more ways than one.

Jungkook smiles, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Jimin’s lips.

He wonders what the future holds for them.

- end -

Beautiful art for this story created by my darling Esha (unnie_sha)!