Kim Taehyung told himself he’d get at least three things knocked off of his daily checklist by the end of the night. He, for once, had most of the day to consider his project - ateam essay (what the is that? As if it wasn’t hard enough to write one individually), gather a scientific article, read it and summarize it, but of course, he’d found a way to distract himself. He’d even gone so far as to relocate to his senior’s house for a study session (which he must have ditched for awhile because he’s been ‘gone to the bathroom’ for far too long now…Although this is his apartment and how he feels okay leaving Taehyung alone in it after that one cooking incident is beyond him), which was the first step to actually getting things done because god knew how much of his attention his younger siblings loved to steal from him. Clearly, he wasn’t better off on his own because here he was, effectively not working on his assignment due very soon, among others he chose to not prioritise, in favour of doodling away around his notes. Later, he would have to explain to Min Yoongi it was simply to embellish them so he could stand looking at them any longer, and Yoongi would not be impressed.

“Okay,” he said to himself, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth, hoping that if he looked concentrated, then maybe he’d feel it and start getting to work. He pushed his glasses back to their proper place on his face and switched from the Youtube tab to the article he was supposed to be reading about video-game-induced violence. He didn’t realize he was just staring at the title of the page of the article until his phone dinged, and he muttered a faint, “Thank god,” quickly lunged for his phone, a little too glad for the distraction.

 

JM: I HAVE A CONFESSION

JM: PLS I NEED TO TELL YOU

JM: I NEEd tO TEEL YOU

JM: IT’S WEIGHING ON ME KIM TAEHYUnG PLS I NEED TO GET THIS OFF OG MY CHEST

JM: YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE I CAN TRUST

JM: I CAN’T TELL THIS TO MY OTHER FRIENDS

 

Taehyung rolled his eyes as the messages kept rolling in, a very amused expression on his features. Leave it to Park Jimin to be a lot more dramatic than necessary. But he was flattered, almost, maybe a little smug, that he was comfortable enough only with him to reveal whatever was disturbing him.

 

TH: lol what’s up????

JM: WHERE RU i GOTta TelL U In PERSON

JM: I NEED TO SCREEEEEAM

TH: yoongi hyung’s! come hither~~~

JM:..

JM: is he home?

TH: LOL nope, youre safe

JM: B THErE IN 5

 

Five minutes of course ended being more than that. And of course it was when Taehyung was in the zone that Jimin finally made his appearance.

“Kim Taehyung!”

He groaned, setting his laptop down to stand and open the door for his distressed friend, who waltzed in like he owned the place. Which he didn’t.

“What if hyung had come back by now?” he commented, following Jimin to the living room, where he’d already draped himself over the back of the couch in a dramatic show of despair. Taehyung knew very well how not fond of his friends Yoongi was, especially Jimin. (Something about Taehyung ranting about them when he felt rightly vindicated...He didn’t do it to be mean. He was just emotional and turned to his hyung for support, which was more often than not a bad idea. Yoongi always called him out on his own bull, when he was being too sensitive, but was also always surprisingly understanding and protective of him. He must be fond and that made Taehyung feel good.) The latter only had a sneaking suspicious that he wasn’t very liked, what with the disinterested looks directed his way and the sneers he caught sight of every once in awhile. Most days, he ignored it for Taehyung’s sake; other days he was pretty intimidated by the older man and avoided him if he could (which wasn’t very hard, thank the lord).

Jimin scoffed, lifted his head to look at him, eyes narrowed like he didn’t quite trust him. “You would have warned me to abort mission.”

Taehyung laughed and returned to his spot, picking up his laptop and placing it in his lap again. “What was so urgent to tell me you actually risked bumping into Yoongi hyung?”

“Kim Taehyung, am I weird?” Taehyung blinked at him only as a response. Jimin looked at his own palms like it was the first time he was seeing them at all. “I think - I think…”

“Spit it out, Jimin,” he said with a laugh.

He looked at him, his features painted with despair. “I think I have a boy-crush .” Taehyung looked up at Jimin again, and Jimin caught his gaze too. “Like, Taehyung,” he began to explain, his lips nervously, but his friend had the sneaking suspicion it was more because of who he was thinking about rather than the unreadable expression Taehyung was giving him, “he’s gorgeous. Not even that pretty - like, he’s average? But I’m so attracted ?” Taehyung raised his eyebrows; he didn’t know how Jimin sounded both sure and unsure at the same time. The stressed man lifted himself off of the couch slightly. “Like, he’s so cute, I might cry. He has such big hands, Taehyung,” he continued, standing now to his full height (which wasn’t much to begin with and Taehyung mentally reminded himself not to laugh at his own thought), “and he talked to me in class today, Taehyung, and he’s so much taller than me, and why are you laughing at me ?”

Taehyung couldn’t help the chuckles that escaped him, though he had tried hard to restrain himself. “I’m not really laughing at you,” he said, smirking now. “Jiminnie has a type.”

“Shut up,” he said with no bite, buried his face in his hands. “This has only ever happened to me once before,” he admitted. “I just want to smoosh him and kiss him and hold his big, giant hands, you know?”

His friend shrugged. “Does he have a nice voice?”

“ Yes, he does,” he answered. “But god, Taehyung. Today, we picked teams and I wanted to partner with him but by the end of class he was on the other side of the classroom and I was just so sad. I don’t even know his name, Taehyung. How can he make me feel this way?” He pulled at his hair, his frustration evident. Taehyung laughed softly, but it sounded kind of hollow to him.

“Why don’t you get to know him?” Taehyung asked, setting his laptop aside again because he couldn’t focus, not with Jimin ranting. He unfurled his legs from under him and stretched all of his limbs.

Jimin looked at him with a horrified expression. “ I’m scared. ”

“You’re infatuated.” He laughed.

“Don’t laugh at my misery. I don’t know what to do. What do I do?”

“Here’s an idea,” Taehyung began to suggest, ignoring his friend’s stupid pout, “super fanfic style. Why don’t you leave a note with your name and number on it. It worked for BTS’ V...sort of.” He recalled V having given his poorly redacted confession letter to the wrong person. happened after that. Not really sure what - he was still waiting for the next update.

“Yes, you are the epitome of brilliance,” Jimin threw at him sarcastically, although amused, shaking his head at Taehyung. He shot him back a mischievous grin and Jimin gasped, liked he’d just remembered something. “Crap, I forgot to feed Hoseok’s cat!” He ran back to the entrance and shuffled on his shoes. Taehyung watched him from his spot on the floor. “Thanks for listening, Taehyung!”

“No problem,” he replied softly, not sure if Jimin heard him before the door slammed behind him.

 

Taehyung gave his stomach reassuring and wondered what was wrong with it.

 

JM: the cat is alive!!

 

He had tried to get back to work after Jimin left, but it was now 5PM, and he had re-read the same paragraph ten times before he decided to give up. He really couldn’t focus. It was his stomach’s fault. There was something wrong with it, he was sure, as if there was a significantly large Veiltail residing inside of him - and he imagined it to be dark and beautiful and majestic in its annoying movements - and it was constantly brushing the insides of his stomach. It made him feel queasy, uncomfortable, like every time it touched his walls, it was only teasing him. Then it would curtain its flowery fin over his organ and Taehyung would feel worse; a constant pain. His phone vibrated next to him.

Yoongi returned from his trip. Turned out he had gone to the convenience store to grab a couple of energy drinks to sustain them through the night, and had been caught up in an extremely long pep-talk (“Because god knows I need the motivation, Taehyung.”) with his super sweet boyfriend Kim Seokjin, who, from even five hours away, was alwayslooking out for Yoongi. (“Bae is such a bae.”) Taehyung was happy for him but the feeling in his stomach made him frown . His phone vibrated next to him.

 

JM: ihmygod I thought about him again

JM: Tae what does this MEAN?!

 

Taehyung sat up from his lazy position on the couch and took to the floor again, picking up his laptop with newfound determination.

 

TH: idk

TH: what does it mean, jimin

 

He found a pretty interesting article (his judgement based only on the title) that he thought could be quite useful to him.

 

JM: IDK

JM: NOTHING

JM: OK IT MEans nothing

 

But he could never get past the abstract, the research purposes of the paper lost to him because he was so distracted.

It had bothered him, what Jimin had strolled in to tell him. Had rubbed him the wrong way. Sudden, unexpected, wrong , almost. And his phone kept vibrating.

 

JM: I only love one boy ok and that’s you so this means nothing

 

He clucked his tongue in mild irritation. If Taehyung was honest with himself, he knew quite well why it was bothering him. But he didn’t want it to bother him. It didn’t matter and it shouldn’t matter. It was so typical of him to let words crawl under his skin, to let feelings he shouldn’t be feeling manifest because he was too sensitive. Too emotional for his own good. He let it bother him so much, once, that he couldn’t sleep, his education affected negatively as a result.

“ No, ” Taehyung muttered to himself, straightened his posture so he would stop slouching. If Yoongi heard him, he didn’t say anything, just continued typing his own essay. Taehyung could not afford to slip up now, or slip into an emotionally-stumped state. He had a hell of a week waiting for him, and any and all kinds of unnecessary feelings were absolutely not welcome.

So he would get back to work, and he would accomplish at least this , be able to cross out ‘read article’ before 2AM; he had had all day. He turned over his cellphone and muted it, so he wouldn’t see his screen light up or feel it freaking buzz like a mad man.

His concentration lasted all of seven minutes before he lost it again.

It crept up on him, the hollow feeling that followed Jimin’s words as they rang in his head. It made his chest hurt, and he was under the impression that he was being submerged and resurfaced - suffocated - given a short reprieve before the process would start again.

Taehyung checked his phone, knew he would have notifications from Jimin. He did, and he had to force himself to open them if only to get rid of the ping. If Jimin noticed that Taehyung’s responses were less enthusiastic, or fewer and farther in between, he didn’t say anything. He never did, and Taehyung knew he didn’t. It was in his area as an applied linguist to notice these things, point them out and figure out why language was being used this way. Taehyung could almost always perceive how Jimin was feeling based on his responses. He himself was always purposeful in his messages, obviously trying to convey his change in attitude, but Jimin didn’t catch on. He never did. And that really shouldn’t upset Taehyung as much as it did.

He locked his screen without answering his friend. For the next few minutes, he wouldn’t anyway. Jimin would chalk it down to him being busy, which wasn’t untrue. But Taehyung knew how childish of him it was to ignore Jimin’s texts, and knew how much it wouldn’t change how he was feeling. He couldn’t help it. If it helped him, though, to put a little distance between them so he could get back to work, substract one distraction, he supposed it was all right.

But not because he had unresolved feelings that needed to be put to rest.

 

Taehyung couldn't decide if he had been in love with Jimin. The latter asked him once, after he’d confessed to having a crush, but he didn’t know whether he was joking or not. So he brushed it off.

It was random when he’d learned that he had feelings for him at all. Had taken him by surprise that their friendship, at the stage it was, bloomed for him the way it did.

He remembered those feelings well, something of a reminiscent memory. They had consumed him like a fire and left him in ashes.

At first, it was surprising to Jimin. And then it was exciting. New, because he didn’t know if he could feel the same way about another boy and couldn’t understand why anyone would like him. Taehyung was content enough to help him find out, maybe, or to remain his friend with no losses.

At first, it was a surprise to Taehyung. And then it was scary. Because how could he like his best friend? It wasn’t at all the fact that his crush happened to be a boy, but that it had to be Jimin , the person who had pulled and pushed him, destroyed him with his scars and left him feeling emptier than any person ever had? The person who was so important, he’d willingly sacrifice his own happiness for his? The person who could make him happy just by sending him a ‘hello♡’ text? Who would laugh and Taehyung could say it was his favourite sound (as cheesy as that was)?

And then they kissed and it wasn’t everything they imagined it to be. There were no sparks flying or flowers falling or stars shining. It was awkward and unpracticed, and Taehyung hadn’t felt good about it at all, had been embarrassed that this was all it had amounted to, as if everything had relied on the kiss.

Taehyung, in hindsight, had liked it, liked the idea of kissing Jimin even if it hadn’t been perfect, and Jimin had said that was all that mattered - that he had liked it.

He supposed he must have been in some kind of love with him, if any of his too strong feelings were of any indication. But he would never tell him that.

Jimin would never be in some sort of love with him.

Taehyung just wanted to be okay with that.