Jimin wakes to a dry mouth, a sour stomach, and a bone-deep ache sending jolts of pain throughout his entire body but especially concentrated in his head. His limbs are heavy, the base of his skull throbs, and his eyes won’t even open, which is probably best considering the sunlight splashing across his face is threatening to burn his eyeballs to ash straight through his eyelids. He groans and rolls to his left, away from the window andwait… isn’t the window supposed to be on the other side of the bed?

A noise from behind him causes Jimin’s eyelids to fly open, an action he immediately regrets when the light stabs at his eyes, but one that is completely necessary as he needs to know who is in bed with him. Now that he sees the room he’s positive he’s not in his dorm. The walls are a pretty, leafy green instead of dull grey, and there is a small collection of artsy photographs hanging there in lieu of Jimin’s tacky band posters. He gingerly turns his head to the side to find himself nose to nose with a snoring Kim Namjoon.

“Oh, god,” he moans, and is just about to continue with, “what happened?” when he’s interrupted by a low, gravelly voice.

“I told you last night, just Namjoon is fine.”

“Oh, god,” he whines again, his face flushing a bright pink as he searches his mind for any memory of the previous evening.

 

The room was spinning slightly and it was too warm, and there was so much noise it was drowning out Jimin’s thoughts so that he couldn’t remember where he was. He knew he’d been drinking, remembered the first few shots, but beyond that everything was a little blurry. There were bodies moving all around him, hands grabbing at him, making him feel uncomfortable. He tried to focus enough to get off the dance floor, making his way toward the bar or maybe the exit, he wasn’t sure which.

Outside would be better, he decided. He needed to be away from all the people, the music, the heat… to feel the cool night air on his skin. He stumbled to the door and out onto the sidewalk, heaving deep lungfuls of air in an attempt to make up for the lack of oxygen he’d experienced in the club.

“Hey, you okay?” Jimin jumped at the sudden voice behind him and turned to find his classmate, Namjoon. “Do you need a ride home or something?”

“I’m fine,” he slurred, waving a hand in Namjoon’s general direction as he wobbled toward a bench a few feet away from the club entrance.

“I’m sober and I have a car,” Namjoon continued, catching Jimin by his elbow when he tripped over his own feet. “Just give me directions and I’ll take you home.”

“Oh, no. You just wanna know where I live. I took a cab here, I’ll take a cab home,” Jimin insisted, though at that point he was laying down on the bench and about to lose consciousness.

 

Jimin leaps out of the bed. His body protests the movement, his stomach lurching and muscles and joints screaming in pain, but he doesn’t care. He needs to escape, now.

He silently rejoices when he finds himself still wearing boxers, his clothes folded neatly on a nearby chair, and he throws them on as quickly as he can despite the fact that they smell like alcohol and cigarettes and shame.

“Hey,” Namjoon groans, his voice thick and raspy in his not-quite-awake state, “you don’t have to rush off.”

“Oh, but I do. I really, really do,” Jimin insists as he decides socks are unnecessary and pockets them while sliding his bare feet into his shoes. He pauses with his hand on the doorknob and speaks without turning around. “I’m sorry, Namjoon, but this was a mistake.”

Before Namjoon can argue with him Jimin slips through the door and disappears down the hall, escaping to the stairwell just as Namjoon reaches his doorway. Namjoon doesn’t even get the chance to explain to Jimin what had (or more accurately hadn’t) happened.

 

Namjoon is just a nice guy who always tries to do the right thing, which is why when he’d seen Jimin outside the club and recognized him from his World Lit. class, he had felt the proper action to take would be to get Jimin home safely. He hadn’t counted on Jimin being too drunk (and stubborn) to give him directions to his dorm, and with no way of finding it on his own he had made the executive decision to take him back to his own dorm.

All had gone well (at least as well as can be expected when attempting to take care of a barely legal kid who is completely plastered) until they had reached the top of the stairs and Jimin had regained some semblance of consciousness and insisted on ‘helping’ Namjoon. Helping, as it turns out, is not very helpful. It had taken Namjoon a full ten minutes to maneuver them down to the end of the hallway, and by the time he had fished his keys out of his pocket to open the door, Jimin had been mumbling utter nonsense while hanging off of one of Namjoon’s elbows.

Namjoon had left Jimin slumped on his bed while he had changed into comfortable pajama bottoms in the bathroom. Upon returning he had found Jimin struggling to remove his jeans, his shirt already ed to reveal smooth almond skin and toned abs. Namjoon had found it a bit difficult to control his hands, shaking fingers wanting to roam over Jimin’s body, but he had forced himself to remain calm and simply take the discarded garments from Jimin, folding them and placing them on the chair beside the door.

After wearing himself out fighting with his jeans, Jimin had flopped onto Namjoon’s bed sideways with his feet still on the floor and arms reaching out in opposite directions from the head of the bed to the foot. Namjoon had had to wrestle him under the covers before he could lay down himself, falling quickly into a deep, exhausted sleep.

Okay, so Namjoon is a bit of a dork, and maybe his choice of words when Jimin had woken him with a loud moan of, “Oh, god,” was not exactly the best decision he’d ever made. In his defense, he had still been half asleep and a little flustered as he had forgotten all about the other person sharing the bed with him until that person had spoken. Nope, not the best decision. Especially since watching Jimin getting dressed, despite the obvious pained expression tainting his beautiful face, had had a hypnotizing effect on Namjoon, leaving him unable to speak or move until Jimin had been mostly covered and already heading out the door, and especially since nothing had happened.

 

Monday morning arrives along with a brilliant sunrise and the harsh blaring of Jimin’s alarm clock. Even after having spent nearly all of his weekend in bed recovering, he still feels miserable. The nausea and headache may have faded, but the humiliation of waking up in Namjoon’s bed in such a state will likely haunt him for the rest of his life.

What Jimin needs is a long shower to wash away the filth of the past three days, but there isn’t time. Instead he quickly shampoos his hair and scrubs harder than usual with his body wash before hurrying to get dressed to make it to class on time.

Only he’s not on time, and the teacher is already ten minutes into his lecture when Jimin sneaks in the back of the lecture hall. His eyes roam the room in search of an empty seat, and he finds that the only easily accessible spot is right next to the one person he had been hoping to avoid. He can either crawl over eight other students on the row to his right or... He groans inwardly as he steps down three stairs and takes the empty aisle seat next to Namjoon.

Jimin tries to keep his focus on the lecture, pulling out some paper to take notes, but he can sense Namjoon beside him. Jimin can tell he’s not paying attention to the professor, and when he glances at the ridiculously tall young man out of the corner of his eye, he finds him staring… at Jimin.

“Can I help you?” he hisses. They are only halfway through class, but Jimin is seriously debating just bolting. He can borrow Taehyung’s notes. They have the same professor but at a different time.

“Sorry,” Namjoon whispers and looks down at his desk. He appears to be ashamed, and Jimin thinks it serves him right. Why should I be the only one feeling this way?

With Namjoon finally behaving Jimin manages to concentrate on the lecture, but that doesn’t stop him from racing out the door as soon as the professor dismisses them. He doesn’t even bother to put his things away, barely taking the time to snag his backpack from the floor while carrying his books in his arms. Thankfully Jimin doesn’t have another class with Namjoon until Wednesday and it’s not like they’re part of the same circle of friends. With any luck they won’t run into each other again outside of class.

 

Jimin meets Taehyung at their favorite campus coffee shop after class. It’s their Monday morning tradition, a post-weekend debriefing over lattes.

“... and then Jeongguk just walked right in on Yoongi and Hoseok in a very compromising position, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah Tae, I know what you mean,” Jimin mumbled into the steaming mug between his hands.

“Hey, what’s wrong with you? You’ve been all mopey ever since we got here.”

“It was…” Jimin lets out a long sigh, “I had a rough weekend.”

“Let me guess, you drank too much Friday night and spent the rest of the weekend in bed recovering from your hangover?” Taehyung smirks, sure he’s guessed correctly.

“Yeah, but,” Jimin still hasn’t looked up from his latte, and Taehyung has honestly never seen him so distraught, “well, it’s really more than just the hangover.” He doesn’t seem to want to elaborate, so Taehyung hums a vague response, knowing if he waits him out, Jimin will spill his guts. He sips his coffee and taps his fingers against the cup.

“You remember the guy from my World Lit. class?” There it is.

“Ah, tall, blonde, and awkward?”

“Dimples,” Jimin groans. “You forgot the dimples.”

“Yeah, what about Mr. Dimples?” Taehyung can’t hide the smile in his voice, and Jimin is visibly irritated by it.

“Why are you so cheerful?” Jimin sneers at him. Taehyung opens his mouth to apologize, but Jimin makes a pitiful whining noise and thumps his head against the table, barely missing his mug. “I think I slept with him,” he whispers, so quietly Taehyung almost misses it.

“What do you mean you think you slept with him?” Taehyung knows Jimin well, knows that when he drinks he’s flirty and touchy, that when he dances his hips are like sin in motion, and that when someone tries to take things too far Jimin shuts them down, immediately. No matter how many shots Jimin had, there’s no way he’d go home with someone, not even someone he potentially had feelings for.

“We--I woke up in his dorm...” Taehyung listens intently as Jimin explains all that he remembers. “What am I gonna do, Taetae?” Jimin asks when he’s finally poured out every piece of information he can possibly remember.

“Well, you could talk to him,” Taehyung suggests, and oh no, it’s The Look, the look that means Jimin is about to throw something at him, and the only thing in his hands is an actual coffee mug, no paper cups here, and even worse, it’s full. Taehyung flinches and ducks his head only to feel a barrage of small papery somethings rain down on him. Sugar packets, he notices, realizing he’s gotten off easy this time.

“He was staring at me in class today, Tae, practically leering. You have to protect me.”

“What do you expect me to do?”

“Just… do that thing you do, you know, with your eyes. He won’t come near me if you do that.”

Sighing loudly and rolling his eyes so hard he’s sure he’s pulled a muscle, Taehyung nods at his best friend. “Fine, but you’ll have to talk to him eventually.”

Jimin just grins back at Taehyung. “Not if you do your job.”

 

Namjoon’s heart had leapt when Jimin had chosen to sit beside him. Sure, there hadn’t been many other available seats, but at least Jimin didn’t seem to be avoiding him. That made things a lot less awkward. The thought had relaxed him, but only until he’d gotten caught ogling the poor boy like a total freak. Why am I so weird?

Clearly Jimin had been embarrassed. The way he had almost forgotten his backpack in his haste to escape had made it obvious, and Namjoon knows it’s his fault. The only solution he sees is to confront Jimin, which turns out to be more difficult than anticipated because that odd boy with the hair that makes his head look like it’s on fire is always hovering around Jimin and warning him whenever Namjoon comes near.

So Namjoon suffers through two miserable weeks of classes, work, and lonely nights attempting to do homework in his dorm. He hardly sleeps and is often too distracted to remember to eat. World Lit. is the highlight of his schedule, a full 60 minutes to study Jimin.

He watches as Jimin takes notes and listens intently to the lectures. Sometimes his brow furrows in concentration, and when he’s particularly troubled by the material he’ll that full bottom lip in between his teeth, leaving it swollen and red, slick with saliva and bringing thoughts and images to Namjoon’s mind that are embarrassingly unpure.

His habit doesn’t go unnoticed. Jimin may not catch on right away, but eventually he seems to get the creepy feeling that someone’s watching him and Namjoon only has a split second to avert his eyes to avoid being spotted.

Even Namjoon finds his fascination with Jimin unsettling. He’s never dealt with feelings like this before. Sure, he had always found Jimin attractive, but now Jimin occupies his every waking thought and most of his dreams as well. Namjoon decides he’ll have to find a way to talk to Jimin, with or without the odd boy around (though preferably without).

 

“There he is again,” Jimin complains, burying his head in his arms where they’re folded on the picnic table outside the cafeteria. Taehyung looks up from his textbook to find Mr. Dimples lingering just inside the building, periodically glancing at their table and occasionally approaching the door as if he plans to join them only to back away again.

Taehyung’s lips twitch into a tiny smile that disappears as quickly as it had appeared.

“Do something, Tae! He’s gonna come out here!” Jimin squeaks, and Taehyung does that thing with his eyes (though to be honest, Taehyung isn’t sure what that thing with his eyes is so he just kind of glares through his blazing orange fringe), and Mr. Dimples drops his gaze to the floor before turning tail. Ah, he’s just a puppy.

 

Namjoon waits another week before he finally works up the courage to follow Jimin after class. He’s hoping to catch him alone, but the boy with the fiery hair is already waiting outside the classroom for Jimin. They walk together to a coffee shop, Namjoon trailing behind and thinking he’s doing a pretty decent job of staying hidden until suddenly he bumps right into fiery hair boy’s chest.

“Why are you following us?” he asks.

Jimin’s friend is scary, his voice deep and powerful. Namjoon knows better than to lie because this guy would see right through it. He was already nervous to begin with, but now his heart is racing and he’s sweating even though it’s autumn and chilly out and he forgot his jacket in his dorm this morning. He presses on though, because he knows the only way to get to Jimin is through this kid, and Namjoon really wants to get to Jimin. “I just want to talk to Jimin, please.”

“Taetae, come on.” Jimin pulls at the boy’s elbow, but the boy just shakes him off.

“No, Jimin. He’s practically stalking you.” The boy turns back to Namjoon and pokes him in the shoulder as he continues, “Dude, what is your deal?”

“Taehyung!” Jimin snaps. “Let’s go !”

“You go on, Minnie. I’ll catch up when I’m finished here.” Jimin throws his hands in the air and stomps into the coffee shop. Taehyung watches him go before facing Namjoon again. “Did you take advantage of my friend? Because if you did then you’re a ing jerk! Jimin is kind and wonderful, and you just drag him home with you like some caveman while he’s too drunk to even know what’s going on? What kind of person does a thing like that?”

“No! That’s not how it happened at all,” Namjoon sputters indignantly. “Yes, he was drunk, and yes, I took him home with me, but only because he wouldn’t tell me how to get to his dorm. He was about to lay down and pass out on a bench outside a club. I was trying to keep him safe.”

Taehyung opens his mouth to continue his tirade against Namjoon but clicks his jaw shut when Namjoon’s words sink in.

“But did you-”

“No! Nothing like that. I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to explain it to him, but he makes me all…” Namjoon makes a high pitched whining noise and flaps his hands around awkwardly, either demonstrating how Jimin makes him feel or searching for the right words to explain, he isn’t sure, but Taehyung seems to understand because he hums thoughtfully.

“I’ll talk to Jimin,” Taehyung agrees, but he’s turning to leave and still gesturing for Namjoon to go away and Namjoon… he just can’t let him walk away without some kind of assurance. His hand shoots out to grab for Taehyung and when his fingers wrap around the boy’s delicate wrist Namjoon immediately knows he’s made a terrible mistake. Taehyung turns on him once again, and the fire from his hair must have spread to his eyes because they’re blazing with anger.

“Get your hands off of me,” he growls threateningly, and it’s low and quiet and somehow that’s even more terrifying than if he’d screamed it. Namjoon retracts his hand like it’s been burned, and he drops his eyes to the ground as he mumbles an apology. Taehyung softens at this, and in much more calm but no less exasperated tone he murmurs, “What did you need?”

“I just wanted to… I mean it’s not… Well, it is, but…” Namjoon repeatedly tries and fails to form a complete sentence until finally Taehyung cuts in.

“I won’t do you any favors unless you explain your behavior a little better, if that’s what you’re trying to ask.”

“No, of course not. I wouldn’t expect you to.” Namjoon runs his fingers through his own hair as he tries to get a grip on this whole speaking thing. “The thing is, I like him. I have for awhile, I think. At first it was just a physical attraction, but even before that night when I brought him home with me I was starting to feel that it was more.”

“But you’re not even friends. Up until three weeks ago Jimin hardly even mentioned you.” That’s kind of a lie, but Namjoon doesn’t have to know.

“I know I’m weird, okay? But I’m nice, I promise, and I would never have done anything to hurt Jimin. I’m not suggesting you just take my word for it, but I’m not sure how I’m supposed to prove it to you either.” Namjoon lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Namjoon, is it?” Taehyung questions, and Namjoon nods. “I don’t trust you. I can’t, and not just because we don’t know each other, but because that kid in there is my best friend and my trust is in him.” Namjoon opens his mouth to argue but is silenced with a wave of Taehyung’s hand. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t believe you’re telling me the truth. I’ve seen what Jimin is like when he drinks, and I know how much he remembers the next day. Even based on his recollection of that night I kind of had a feeling nothing physical happened between you two, but it’s not my place to tell him. It’s yours.”

“How can I tell him if he sics his guard dog on me every time I come close to him?”

Taehyung seems slightly offended at being referred to as a dog, but considers the statement for a second before answering. “I said I’ll talk to him, and I will. Meanwhile, you need to learn how to be less… stalkerish. It’s creepy, man.” Namjoon has to agree. He nods his head enthusiastically, promising to try. “He’ll come to you when he’s ready to know the truth, sound good?”

“How can you be sure?” Namjoon winces as he hears how ungrateful the question sounds, but it feels like he’s handing his heart over to Taehyung, not knowing if he’ll get it back..

“I’ll take care of it,” Taehyung says, rolling his eyes. “I’m very persuasive, and if Jimin refuses to listen, I’ll think of something else.” He shrugs and turns to walk away, and this time Namjoon lets him. He doesn’t know why, but he kind of trusts the kid.

 

“What did he say?” Jimin immediately jumps on Taehyung as soon as he reaches the table. He’s already ordered for them both, and Taehyung takes a sip of his coffee before answering.

“He says he wants to talk to you.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet he does,” Jimin scoffs. “He just wants-”

“Jimin!” Taehyung barks, and ok, maybe he is a bit like a dog, but it gets Jimin’s attention, cutting him off mid-sentence. Jimin gapes at him, slack jawed, wide-eyed, and startled. “I don’t think that’s what he wants at all, and I think it’s unfair of you not to hear what he has to say.”

Jimin blinks, continues to stare. He’s drowning in disbelief. “So you’re siding with him?” he asks, and seriously, if Taehyung rolls his eyes any harder they’re going to fall out of his head and roll right across the table.

“It’s not about sides. You’re my best friend; if I’m taking anyone’s side it’ll be yours. All I’m saying is that he doesn’t seem so bad, and I know you’re interested in him, or at least you were before. Things don’t have to be weird between you, and all it will take to clear the air is one short conversation.”

Tears well in Jimin’s eyes. He focuses on his fingers, picking at his cuticles as he listens to Taehyung’s surprisingly helpful counsel. He wants to continue stubbornly ignoring and avoiding Namjoon, but he knows Taehyung’s advice is solid.

“What if I’m right though? What if it turns out he only wants to… ya know?”

Taehyung laughs a little at this, his face radiating sunshine as his lips spread into a boxy grin and his nose and eyes scrunch up a bit.

“Then I’ll buy a carton of ice cream and share it with you, and I won’t ever speak of Mr. Dimples again,” he promises, and Jimin smiles back.

 

Jimin doesn’t actively seek out Namjoon, but two days later when class ends Jimin finds himself taking a little extra time to pack up his things. He glances up from his backpack and sees Namjoon still slumped in his seat a few rows back. It takes him a moment to figure out what’s missing, but when it hits him he suddenly feels sick with sadness: Namjoon’s dimples aren’t showing.

It’s so strange to see Namjoon without a smile on his face, even if it’s just the sheepish grin he throws Jimin’s way when he’s been caught staring yet again. Jimin unconsciously takes a detour into the row of desks between them. He doesn’t realize what he’s doing until he’s kneeling in the chair in front of Namjoon. He leans against the backrest, chin in his palm, and waits for Namjoon to notice him.

Except Namjoon is too lost in his own thoughts to pay attention, so finally Jimin clears his throat. Namjoon’s eyes jerk up from where he’d been gazing blankly at his desk, and they widen significantly when Jimin’s face comes into focus.

“Sorry, was I being weird again? I’m really trying not to. I’m sorry.” The words tumble out in a jumbled mess of syllables, but Jimin blushes as he catches their meaning.

“Taehyung said you wanted to talk to me,” Jimin states flatly once he’s successfully suppressed a grin. (What? Namjoon is kinda cute when he’s flustered.) He figures he might as well get this conversation over with. “What did you want to say?” Namjoon sits there gawking at him like he just grew a second head until finally Jimin becomes uncomfortable and decides to leave, mumbling, “Maybe I’ll just… try again later.”

“Don’t go.” Jimin turns back. He might have misheard, Namjoon said it so quietly, but then he continues, "Look, I really like you."

"Yeah, you just like the way I ." Jimin spits at him, surprising even himself with the amount of venom infused into the words.

"Would you stop that?” Namjoon begs, irritation and disbelief bleeding into his voice. “Is that really what you think of me? That I'd take advantage of you like that?"

"Look at the evidence Namjoon: I wake up in your bed nearly with no memory of how I got there and you expect me to believe nothing happened? I know we-"

"But we didn't!” Namjoon yells before taking a moment to calm himself enough to speak at a reasonable volume. “We didn't do anything. Absolutely nothing happened, Jimin. But all those things you're imagining in your head, the things you think we've done... Damn I wish we would."

There’s a moment where they’re both silent, Namjoon’s chest heaving as he tries to hold back the sob that’s threatening to burst out of his throat, and Jimin’s eyes flickering from Namjoon’s closed eyes to his clenched fists and then coming to rest on his lips.

“So, you like me?” he breathes, suddenly realizing that he’d really like Namjoon to kiss him, to press those soft looking lips against his own… or against his cheek or his neck… anywhere really.

“Yeah,” Namjoon’s tone is resigned, like he’s decided Jimin will never accept him and he’ll just have to deal with it. Jimin can’t explain why, but he feels compelled to climb over the row of desks separating them, and he does so, albeit a little clumsily.

“But you don’t even know me,” he mutters softly, “not really.” There must be some kind of gravitational pull between them, because as Namjoon looks up at him, Jimin notices he’s also shifting closer, standing from his desk and shuffling toward Jimin.

“We can change that,” and oh, dear , there are only a few inches between them, and also, when did it get so hot in here?  “If you want to, that is.”

Jimin looks up at Namjoon through his lashes. His shallow breaths puff against Namjoon’s neck from this close and Namjoon seems to lean down just the tiniest bit. This is it. Namjoon is going to kiss me. But he doesn’t quite close the distance, and it suddenly dawns on Jimin that Namjoon is waiting, giving him a chance to back out.

He doesn’t back out. He shifts his weight forward, placing his palm gently against Namjoon’s shoulder to steady himself as he lifts up onto the balls of his feet. Their lips brush against each other and Jimin shivers. His hand slides from Namjoon’s shoulder to the back of his neck and pulls him down forcefully until their bodies are completely pressed together.

“Is this what you wished we’d do?” he asks, and joins their lips. It’s soft and slow, and Namjoon nods and sighs when they part and Jimin thinks it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard.

“So what do we do now?” Namjoon asks, still trying to catch his breath.

Jimin giggles and shyly rests his forehead against Namjoon’s shoulder.

“Now,” Jimin’s fingers find Namjoon’s and he laces them together as he looks up into Namjoon's soulful eyes, “you buy me coffee.”