Jimin laid in his bed, hands placed on his lower abdomen. The cramps hadn't subsided, but from his frequent trips to the bathroom, he had noticed the flow of blood seemed to be decreasing. The pad was soaking up the evidence, serving as a bandaid over his wounded pride. He was afraid to remove it completely, but the feeling of it molding to his skin was a constant reminder of its presence, of his devastating new reality.

Curling into the fetal position, Jimin mimicked his positioning in the womb. He supposed this moment was destined for him since conception. His parents had been trying for a baby for years before becoming pregnant with him, and Jimin wonders how many eggs were wasted before him and after him. How many could have been born in his place…without this gene? He wishes one of them had beat him to the womb…had been fertilized in his place. They would have been better than he was: straight, gene-less, untainted…the perfection his parents deserved.He had to admit to himself that few people every reached perfection…but could he at least have been average?

Jimin had felt different for as long as he could remember. He could never quite place the source of this difference, but he had accepted it as being a hallmark of his character. He had absorbed the traumas of his childhood, the strange looks from his teachers when he played house during recess. He was always fighting with his female classmates to be the mother and hold the baby doll. His arguments were fruitless, as he was placement in the father role was inevitable, only getting to hold the baby after he had come home from work and his wife was cooking dinner.

Even his motivation to pursue dance had stemmed from a Nutcracker Ballet his mom had taken him to watch. He was entranced by Clara holding the Nutcracker with so much care, as she twirled and leaped around the stage…graceful and delicate. Jimin sat in the car on their way home, detailing to his mother every scene of the performance, as if she hadn’t just watched it herself. He asked if he could dance like that…if he could perform in a show like that. She signed him up for dance classes the following week, after ignoring his dad’s hesitations. She must have assumed he wanted to be the Nutcracker, masculine, strong, and daring…when he really wanted to be Clara.

And perhaps the reason he had developed an obsession with his father’s work was because it resonated with him…it was him. He wasn’t pregnant of course, but he knew he had to be careful not to be.

All of this was before Jungkook, before he discovered his uality. He had to remind himself that they were different…this gene, his uality, Jungkook…each independent from the other.

Jungkook didn’t have to be connected to pain…he wasn’t responsible for any of this. So when he slowly cracked open Jimin’s bedroom door, after spending an hour cleaning up whatever was left of their party, he couldn’t deny him entrance.

“Can I come in?” Jungkook asked tentatively peaking his head through the doorway.

Jimin nodded, smirking at his forced politeness. “Have you ever asked permission to do anything in this house?”

Jungkook bounded in, relieved by Jimin’s cheeky retort. “Good point”. He took his usual place on the left side of the bed, Jimin having to alter his position to turn and face him. He had a carton of chocolate brownie ice cream, a can of Ginger Ale, and what looked to be one spoon in hand. “So my thoughts for our evening are: we watch a couple movies, you drink some Ginger Ale, I eat some ice cream, and we talk about never inviting my mom and her potato salad to another event, ever again.”

“It wasn’t the potato salad”. Jimin laughed while shaking his head into his pillow.

“Trust me…you aren’t its first victim”. Jungkook pulled Jimin’s laptop into his lap and entered the password with ease. He started loading Netflix in his browser and then reconnected with Jimin’s eyes before answering the question of on the screen: ’Who is watching?’. “Shall we?”

Jimin sat up in the bed, ignoring any of his body’s protests, as he reached into Jungkook’s lap to select his name from the list of options on the screen. “What do you want to watch?”

. . .

They had selected the first movie in Jimin’s recommended, neither of them really caring about the content. They just wanted to be together, without the pressure of speaking or accepting that this was their last night together for a while. They hadn’t talked about it, but they both knew things would inevitably change between them when they began separate majors separate schools, separate lives. Jimin was choosing to avoid thinking about the impending changes. He would be forced to accept them soon enough and going through his usual worse case scenario planning would do him no good. He just wanted his last night to be like all the other nights he had spent with Jungkook: filled with laughter, comfortability, and a security that he didn’t even feel with his own parents.

After the movie started, Jungkook had turned the lights off, passed Jimin the Ginger Ale, and was now halfway through the carton of ice cream. Jimin looked on in curiosity, never having seen Jungkook eat with that level of speed or intensity. Even with minimal lighting he could see stains forming in the cracks around Jungkook’s mouth from the melted chocolate.

Jimin’s stomach growled and he realized that he hadn’t eaten anything since lunch. The Ginger Ale was nice, but he imagined it would be more useful to someone that actually had food poisoning and wasn’t using it as a cover for their menstrual cramps. “Do you want to share any of that ice cream?”

Jungkook looked down at what he had been consuming mindlessly. “Oh! I thought your stomach was hurting? I’m not sure how good dairy would be as a recovery food”.

“I’m feeling a bit better and actually craving chocolate”. Jimin’s eyes fixated on the chocolate lining Jungkook’s mouth. He imagined the chocolate would taste even sweeter if he could it off.

“That must be a good sign! I only brought one spoon though.” Jungkook looked down at the spoon that he had been utilizing as a shovel to keep his mouth distracted…occupied. I’ll just go downstairs and get you another”.

“That’s okay, I can go down”. Jungkook looked at him hesitantly. “I am capable of going downstairs, Kook”.

“I know! But why don’t you just use mine. I’m done eating anyway”. Jungkook put the spoon in the carton and offered it to Jimin.

“Just a second ago you would have eaten anything that fell into that carton. I’m surprised you’re even willing to spare any of it”.

“That’s exactly why you need to take it.” Jungkook laughed putting the carton in Jimin’s lap and ending their exchange.

They returned their focus to the movie, but Jimin had missed so much it was hard for him to catch up. He ate a couple scoops of ice cream and then his eye lids started to feel heavy. He slumped down onto his pillow, but assured Jungkook that he was still paying attention.

. . .

An hour later, Jimin woke up with his cramps increasing in intensity. He couldn’t help the discomfort from showing on his face.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” Jungkook was still watching the movie, but had changed into his pajamas, gotten under the covers, and apparently noticed when Jimin had stirred.

“Do you think you could find my mom’s hot water bottle? It might be in my parent’s bathroom or maybe in one of the storage closets?”

“Sure I can just ask her wh-”

“Don’t do that! I don’t want her to worry about me”. It was true…Jimin didn’t want her to worry, but he also thought if anyone were to catch on…it would be his mother. She was observant, perceptive, a skilled detective…and he wanted to minimize the amount of evidence that she would be able to collect.

“I’m gonna be honest…I’m not even sure what a hot water bottle looks like”.

“Kind of like an alien egg sack.”

“A what?”

“Never mind. I don’t think it will make a huge difference anyway.” Jimin was basing his knowledge off of what little he knew about female periods, but there was no assurance that his would follow the same patterns. He was still very much a male and he didn’t even know for certain where the blood or cramps were coming from. Maybe there was an alien egg sack inside of him.

“Well, what did you want it for?” Jungkook closed the laptop, eliminating most of the light that remained in the room. The street lamps outside his windows were enough to illuminate the space just enough so they could still make out each other’s faces.

“I’ve heard they help relieve cramps…I think it has something to do with heat?” Jimin turned himself to face away from Jungkook. He didn’t want to field any follow up questions and he was starting to drift back to sleep. “Like putting a heating pad on your sore muscles after a workout”.

Jungkook was silent for a moment. “Maybe I can help?” Jungkook moved the laptop to the end table by the bed and turned to press his torso into Jimin’s back.

Suddenly, Jimin was wide awake.