“Wait, so you didn’t say anything to him?” Taehyung asked, bewildered.

 

“I just passed him by. I wasn’t going to stop him; what if he was going somewhere important!” was Jimin’s reply.

 

Taehyung gave him a doubtful look. “At 1 AM? Chances are he was on his way to grab snacks. I know Jungkook inhales food like he’s eating for two, but I don’t consider late-night snacks that important.”

 

“Tae,” Jimin whined. He didn’t like it much when Taehyung probed into any matters involving their younger acquaintance. He was a good friend of Jimin’s brother, so they wound up crossing paths quite often. It didn’t help that they all attended the same school. Jungkook was nice and really handsome and stuff, but that was exactly the problem. Jimin couldn’t not be awkward around the guy, and it was utterly embarrassing. Taehyung had been picking up on these strange vibes recently, and just wouldn’t let it drop.

 

“I know he’s shy and all, but you really should say hi to him instead of just giving him starry eyes from a distance.” Taehyung might be a bit scatter-brained, but he picked up on a lot more than one might think. Unfortunately, he chose the most inconvenient things to actually pay attention to. 

 

“I do not!” Jimin retorted, stopping in the middle of the pathway. The two seniors blocked the narrow stone path that wound across the park behind their school, Jimin with his arms now folded over his chest. 

 

“Admit it, you think he’s cute.” Taehyung had that stupid lopsided grin on his face that made it impossible for Jimin to be mad at him. Damn his best friend.

 

“He’s… he’s okay,” Jimin replied in defeat before pouting.

 

“Mhm.” Taehyung wasn’t convinced. “Funny, I’m pretty sure he thinks you’re a lot more than okay, Jiminie.”

 

Jimin’s eyes went wide. “What?! Did he tell you that?” His look of surprise soured again when Taehyung started laughing.

 

“You got all excited, didn’t you?” Taehyung teased. “No, he didn’t tell me. But I know he does. He wouldn’t give you over-the-shoulder glances of pure longing in the cafeteria if he didn’t.” Taehyung thought it was kind of entertaining to watch the two dance around each other worse than two bears stuck in tutus. There was something there; he just knew it, and he wouldn’t leave Jimin alone about it until he at least tried properly interacting with the guy. 

 

Jimin shook his head. “He probably thinks I look weird.” He got off the path and plopped his bottom down into the grass. The teen slipped his backpack off his shoulders and set it beside him. “Probably sits there wondering why that short weird-looking guy sits at a table so close to him.” He slouched, picturing it now. Jimin recalled several times when Jungkook had come down from his brother’s room after an evening of gaming, and momentarily locked eyes with him through the doorway to Jimin’s room. Jimin always froze like some dumb deer in the headlights, and Jungkook was then on his merry way out of the house, not to be seen for another few nights, at least. If Jungkook didn’t think he was weird, then maybe Jungkook was just as weird as he was.

 

Taehyung dropped down across from him, folding his longer legs beneath him. “Do you know what you are, Park Jimin?” He reached forward to cup his friend’s face, squashing his cheeks upward. “Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless,” he told him, looking him straight in the eyes. “And. Cute. As. A. Button.” Each word was punctuated with a pinch to Jimin’s fleshy cheeks, which had the other trying to squirm away. 

 

“Can we stop talking about Jungkook and just eat lunch now? I’m hungry,” said Jimin, rubbing his tummy. He wasn’t actually that hungry, but was desperate to change the subject. 

 

Taehyung looked pensive for a moment. “You could probably take a bite out of Jungkook; that would probably satisfy your appeti– AGH!” He fell with a muted thud on the grass as a backpack full of textbooks was swung round his head. Jimin looked awfully pleased with himself when Taehyung rose, wincing as he rubbed the side of his head. “That’s not how you treat the person who brings you food, now is it?” the taller complained.

 

“I said to drop it. And if we don’t eat soon, the bell will ring and we’ll miss out on lunch entirely.” 

 

Jimin looked much more stern this time, and Taehyung knew when to yield… Until the next time.  Being friends for five years did that. Between caring for his pet ant and staying up late to watch meteor showers – and let’s not forget potential UFOs – he always made time to think about the next time he’d see Jimin, which usually ended up being the following day at school. He’d need to ponder how to get these two idiots along, because this K-Drama he was watching unfold was entirely too slow and had been dragging for way too long. Still, this was a K-Drama that was way more fun to watch than doing homework. “Alright, alright. Hope you don’t mind that I brought kimbap again.” With that, Taehyung opened his messenger bag and pulled out a plastic container, setting it on the grass between them. 

 

—————————

 

Classes had ended for the day, and while most made a beeline for the door that led out into bus zone, Jimin needed to run to the computer labs to print out a paper that was due today. The professor had been kind enough to understand that Jimin’s printer had broken, and had allowed him to hand the assignment in at the end of the day. He needed to get that top grade if he wanted to get into the school he wanted for post-secondary studies. 

 

The labs were usually pretty dead after hours on a Friday, everyone keen on distancing themselves from school and starting their much-needed weekend. Through the thin rectangular window in the door, he could see the lights were off. Perfect. It would be a quick in-and-out situation. 

 

Jimin didn’t bother flicking on the lights when he pushed through the door. His sights were set on the closest computer by the door, but he froze when he heard a lonely click echoing through the room. He locked eyes with a wide pair staring at him over the edge of a computer tower three rows down, and for a moment Jimin had forgotten how one was supposed to swallow. The silence was deafening, but rather than break it, Jimin scrambled to his computer and sat down, pretending he hadn’t seen the younger boy. His gaze didn’t waver from the bright screen shining in his face as he entered his username and password. The elder jolted when the loud Microsoft sound blasted across the room, someone having left the volume on its maximum setting. Jimin, feeling a bit warm in the face, quickly rolled the volume wheel in the opposite direction. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d have a thing or two to say about the old and outdated technology this school had, but right now it wasn’t helping his attempt to remain invisible. 

 

Jimin had inserted his USB and retrieved the essay in question, sending it to the printer in the corner of the room. He did not look at Jungkook when he crossed his row, intent on grabbing his paper and getting the heck out of here. The printer had other ideas, though. “No paper,” Jimin muttered under his breath. Upon whipping open the paper tray, he saw that it was indeed empty, and he looked around for any stray packs of paper lying around. The counters were clean, however, save for a few paperclips bent out of shape, and some molecule diagrams someone had forgotten. That meant he’d have to go into the overhead cupboards. 

 

The boy rose on his toes and stretched upward, causing his school uniform shirt to untuck itself from his pants. It was clear that his fingers couldn’t quite hook into the metal handle, so Jimin clambered up onto the countertop. When he straightened, he gasped in surprise at an arm reaching in front of him and opening the door opposite his head. He couldn’t stop himself as he looked over to find himself looking at Jungkook’s profile. He couldn’t be bothered right now to find it annoying that the boy was taller than him despite Jimin being two years older. 

 

Jungkook extracted a pack of paper from the shelf and shut the door again before turning to look at Jimin, handing him the item. Jimin absently took it, momentarily distracted by their proximity and the glint of the other’s gold earrings from what little light filtered in through the blinds. “Th-thank you,” Jimin managed after a second, and Jungkook nodded, taking this as his cue to back away and return to his computer. 

 

Jimin was positive he was looking a bit more flushed than he’d like to be as he descended off the counter. After ripping open the wrapping, he shoved the pile of paper inside the tray. In no time, he held all seven pages of his paper in his hands, but the printer kept printing. Four more pages came out, and frowning, Jimin pulled them out to see something about global warming. “Is this yours?” he asked, looking back at Jungkook while he dangled the pages. 

 

“Ah, yeah. Thanks,” was Jungkook’s quiet reply when Jimin came over and dropped the papers next to his station. Jungkook inhaled, looking up at the elder, and it looked for a second like he might say something else, but he thought twice about it and returned his focus to his computer screen.

 

Without another word, Jimin went and shut down his computer before leaving the room, feeling weird. He shook it off, making a beeline for his professor’s office down the hall.

 

—————————

 

It was late, and Jimin knew that, but he wanted to finish this stupid book report so he wouldn’t have to think about it tomorrow when he went downtown with Taehyung. He’d read the book, but  explaining the symbolism surrounding the colour blue in the story was a whole other challenge. He could just bull his way through this one, but he really wanted the good grade; this professor liked him a lot and Jimin didn’t want to let him down. 

 

Pushing his glasses up his nose, he curled up in his chair, looking a little extra lost in his oversized sweater. Jimin wasn’t blind by any means, but wore glasses during long work sessions to chase away potential headaches. Tapping his pen against his chin, he thought about how best to explain that the protagonist’s blue shoes were a symbol of his depression.

 

It was a little hard to think, though. This late at night, his parents were most definitely sleeping, but his brother and Jungkook, who were having a sleepover tonight, were not. Ever since Jungkook had gotten here, he could hear every stomp, every crash, and every yelp seeping down through the ceiling. Sometimes the noises were of questionable nature, and it was a wonder they hadn’t woken Mr. and Mrs. Park, but Jimin did his best to ignore them. His best didn’t consist of very much success, because he often found himself halting his work to just look up at the ceiling, and his mind would wander. It was weird to see (or hear, in this case) Jungkook with his brother like this when he was so quiet around Jimin at school. It was part of why Jimin thought Jungkook might not like him much; he was just so awkward around the elder. Then again, Jimin was awfully awkward around him too, but it seemed ridiculous to imagine that Jungkook might have the teensiest of crushes on him.

 

Jimin, although he always denied it to Taehyung and sometimes to himself, did have a crush on Jungkook. From seeing him come around the house all the time, he supposed it had just developed gradually. He was younger, and his face did this peculiar squishing thing when he grinned, which was ridiculously endearing to Jimin. He was tall and lean, though, and his hair just sort of did its own thing, as opposed to Jimin’s perfectly parted shiny black hair. It was just really inconvenient to notice these traits because of how things were between the two of them. Jimin would need to wait and hope the tiny spark fizzled out for good, and it was sure taking its time in doing so. Jimin had never had a boyfriend, always too busy with his studies and perfectly content with having a peaceful, drama-free life. This was what he attributed this unnecessary nervousness to. He’d crushed on guys before, but had always let them pass, and surely this one would not be any different.

 

This was a routinely cycle of reasoning and dismissal that Jimin went through whenever Jungkook popped to mind. It was a good thing Taehyung wasn’t a mind reader because he’d– 

 

Jimin abruptly looked to the side when the telltale stomps of feet in the stairs announced the descent of his brother and his friend. Jungkook’s laugh filtered into the room as he staggered into view, dressed in a loose white T-shirt and some Spongebob boxers. His hair fell in messy clumps across his face, which he flicked out of the way with a jerk of his head. Jimin looked on through his doorway as his brother came and gave Jungkook a playful shove before slipping past and into the kitchen. Jungkook, however, had calmed down and chose to linger. His head turned to single in on Jimin in his room, and the latter inhaled sharply, feeling his stomach tighten.

 

It was always like this; Jungkook peered at him curiously when Jimin’s brother wasn’t around, and Jimin could only stare back in silence. These moments only ever lasted a few seconds at most, but they had his stomach in knots without fail every time. He could easily keep his door shut to prevent this from happening, but Jimin never really got around to doing it. Self-consciously, he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. 

 

“Is everything all right up there? You guys are being loud.” Jimin didn’t immediately register that the words had come from his own mouth. Mortification took over him, because he’d spent one of the longest sentences he’d ever uttered to the boy sounding like an annoying, nagging parent. 

 

“Were we?” Jungkook frowned, bringing an arm back to scratch the back of his neck. “Sorry… Your brother just gets, uh, really competitive.”

 

Jimin bit his lip, debating if he should push to continue the exchange or let Jungkook find his brother in the kitchen. The latter was bound to come looking for him soon. 

 

“I see you’re doing work. We’ll, um, we’ll try being more quiet,” Jungkook offered, flashing Jimin a small semblance of a smile, and Jimin thought he might just melt into the depths of his big sweater. 

 

Jimin pulled off his glasses and set them down on his desk. “No, no, I…” What was he trying to say here? He was on his feet now, sweater dropping down to his mid-thigh over his jeans while his hands were lost somewhere in the sleeves. “It’s fine. I can work through it; I was finishing up for the night anyway,” which was a lie. “I’m just worried about you guys waking my parents, y’know?”

 

“Ah, right.” Jungkook cleared his throat, shooting a glance over his shoulder at the kitchen before turning back to Jimin. Was that a flush on the younger’s cheeks?

 

“You can go find my brother, you know. I won’t keep you.” He hated himself for saying it, but it felt like the right thing to say. He didn’t want to detain the boy against his will or anything.

 

“Your brother wanted something to drink. I’m… not thirsty,” he replied. “But yeah, I can go. You probably don’t want to be disturbed from your work; your brother says you work a lot and get good grades. I’ll stop bothering you.” With a nod, Jungkook made to turn around. 

 

“You aren’t,” Jimin stated quietly, and apparently Jungkook had heard, because he paused in his step. Jimin shuffled forward to lean on his doorframe, arms folded lazily over his front. He tried to ignore the erratic hammering of his heart in his chest. 

 

“Oh. Well uh…” Jungkook turned back around, seemingly at a loss. For a second, Jimin thought he maybe shouldn’t have said that, given the uncomfortable position he’d now put the younger in. Jungkook looked him up and down, trying to find his words before finally uttering, “Aren’t you hot?”

 

“What?” Jimin blinked blankly. 

 

“Y-your sweater,” he quickly recovered, motioning to Jimin’s frame. “It’s barely even fall yet.”

 

Jimin looked down at himself, trying to hide his flush of embarrassment from having initially interpreted that question quite wrongly. “I get cold easily,” Jimin explained. 

 

“I can’t relate,” Jungkook responded, smiling down at the floor. “Feels like I’m a walking furnace sometimes.”

 

Jimin felt a soft, nervous laugh escape his own body. “I can see that. If I was that warm all the time, I probably wouldn’t even wear clothes.” Jimin’s eyes widened at his own words, too late to take it back. Jungkook was looking at him funny, and crap, he’d made things more awkward, hadn’t he? Real smooth, Park Jimin. Before he could do more damage, the elder started retreating into his room in shame. “Well, good night,” he quickly mumbled.

 

Jungkook’s figure pressed forward, and a hand had grasped his sleeve, where his fingers just barely poked out. Jimin jolted in surprise, looking stricken up at the younger. “Jimin.” It was just his name, but coming from Jungkook’s lips in these circumstances, it had him fixed to his spot. 

 

Jimin looked at him expectantly, waiting, and as the silence stretched on between them, the nerve it had taken for Jungkook to rush forward seemed to be draining right out of him. Jimin was acutely aware of the other’s thumb inside his sleeve, lightly touching the top of his knuckles. 

 

“Jungkooooook, are you sure you don’t want anything to drink? Not even some banana milk?” Jimin’s brother’s voice shouted from the kitchen. 

 

Jimin turned his head. “Be quiet; you’ll wake up mom and dad” he feebly yelled back. He slowly brought his eyes back to Jungkook’s face. The younger hadn’t moved, but they both knew the other Park brother would be coming back to fetch him any second now. 

 

“I’ll see you at school,” were Jungkook’s final words as he released his grip on Jimin’s sleeve and took a step back. He gave the older a stiff bow of his head before turning to the newly appeared pyjama-clad boy. 

 

“Stop being so annoying,” Jimin’s brother shot towards the bedroom before taking a sip of his cola and dragging Jungkook back up the stairs. 

 

Jimin lingered in the doorway for a few seconds before finally closing the door. He leaned his forehead against his wooden door, taking a moment to steady himself. His mind was instantly beginning to put into question if he’d just imagined an entire exchange with his brother’s friend. But Jungkook had vaguely smelled of mint toothpaste, and his knuckle still tingled where they’d come into contact. He hadn’t imagined that. Whenever the two shared glances from a distance, Jimin always felt like he was suffocating, but this was on another level entirely. It was a wonder his legs hadn’t given out from the way his stomach had been tugging in every which direction. He didn’t know why people said it felt like you had butterflies, because Jimin was pretty damn sure he had something a lot bigger, heavier, and clumsier in his stomach than butterflies. 

 

The teen returned to his open book sitting on the desk, but knew he wouldn’t be able to focus properly for the rest of the night.

 

—————————

 

Jimin had zoned out while Taehyung was talking. Something about their Trig professor, who was an absolute prick, and while Jimin would usually join in on the ranting, he had other things on his mind. Two tables over, Jungkook sat with the younger Park sibling, chatting away over their trays of food. Jimin was making an effort not to look over too often and therefore tip Taehyung off that he wasn’t paying attention.

 

“And then the toad cut him open from throat to sternum.” 

 

Taehyung’s last sentence made its way through to Jimin, and he immediately straightened, confused. “Wait, what?”

 

His friend shook his head before sighing. “See? I knew you weren’t listening.” Taehyung drank from his fizzy drink, burping lightly and the liquid quite nearly going up his nose. He recovered quickly, leaning over and lowering his voice. “Seriously, just go over there and be like ‘hey, I think you’re super duper cute, and we both want to jump each other’s bones, so how about we stop torturing ourselves and go out?’”

 

“Tae,” Jimin hissed. “I do not–”

 

“No, you’re right,” Taehyung cut in. “Maybe it’s a bit soon for bone-jumping, even if there’s enough tension between you two for this whole cafeteria to start going at it.”

 

Jimin buried his face in his hands, groaning, and feeling his skin go red. With every passing day, and every passing second, he regretted telling his best friend about the sleepover incident more and more. This was his worst mistake, even worse than making that comment about going in front of Jungkook. 

 

“Oh, there he goes again. He’s looking over.”

 

Jimin didn’t need to look over to know that Taehyung was telling the truth. Jungkook did that every now and again when the younger Park was busy discussing something with the other people at the table. 

 

“C’mon, it’s not that hard. I’m not saying you need to go do it in front of the whole school, but…” Taehyung tried, trailing off with a lazy flourish of his hand.

 

“That’s easy for you to say,” said Jimin, letting his hands drop from his face. “You’re the one who once asked an 85 year old woman – a total stranger, might I add – what menopause felt like!”

 

Taehyung instantly got defensive. “But it was for educational purposes! We were covering the physical stages of women in health class, and I was genuinely curious!”

 

Jimin knew Taehyung never meant any harm, but jeez, he sure lacked any sort of shame or tact. It made him almost question their friendship at times, because he had a whole bank of wildly embarrassing and cringe-worthy memories that might not exist if Taehyung had kept his mouth shut or chosen less blunt wording. Taehyung’s happy demeanor and boxy smile usually got him out of any potential repercussions to these actions, but it was not always the case, unfortunately. 

 

Taehyung glanced over at the other table before falling into a pensive look. That either meant he was about to dish a theory over the next half hour, or it signalled something much worse.

 

Much worse.

 

His friend’s face lit up abruptly, like he’d just had an idea. “Jungkook!” Taehyung yelled over, waving his arm to catch the younger’s attention. “C’mere for a second!”

 

Jimin’s eyes were close to popping right out of his head, and the colour drained from his face. “Taehyung, what on earth are you doing!” he whisper-yelled, resisting the overpowering urge to smack his friend silly. 

 

It took a few seconds, but Jungkook came trudging over, looking as awkward as Jimin felt in that moment. “You can sit down for a second,” Taehyung said, patting the top of the table before motioning to the empty spot next to Jimin. So this was how Jimin died. Wow, what a way to go.

 

Jungkook shot Jimin a nervous glance before slowly sliding himself into the seat. “So, um, what is it?” he asked, fingers restless against the tabletop. 

 

“You play video games, right? Jimin told me you do. Do you want to come play some Super Smash Bros at my place tomorrow night with the two of us? Jimin’s pretty terrible at it, and I need some proper competition here.”

 

Jimin looked dead on the outside, but was positively screaming on the inside. Taehyung was really taking matters into his own hands, and he was torn between wanting to knock the guy out with his lunch tray and wanting to hug him until he couldn’t breathe. The former was currently dominating. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. I know we’re older and stuff, so you don’t have to c–” Jimin had begun to hurriedly interject with some weird accompanying hand gesture, but stopped when Jungkook’s hand had also come up, and they collided mid-air. It only took half a second for both to retract their hands like they’d been electrocuted. 

 

Jungkook cleared his throat. “Yeah, sure. That’d be fun.” He tried giving Taehyung a smile without looking too hopeful. “I hope you’re ready to lose, because I’m actually pretty good, if I do say so myself.” Jimin didn’t know if the cockiness was genuine or if it was cover-up for the discomfort, but the point was, Jungkook was going to be coming over to Taehyung’s place tomorrow, and Jimin was having a lot of feelings pertaining to that. Jungkook started to get up, gently using Jimin’s shoulder for support. The latter stiffened when he felt a stray finger brush the skin of his neck as Jungkook dragged his hand from him. And with that, he was gone.

 

Jimin’s hand came up to rub the side of his neck, and turned to shoot daggers at his friend. Taehyung, however, could only grin back at the other.

 

———————————

 

Jimin paced around Taehyung’s basement, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. He kept obsessively looking at the clock while Taehyung just sat on the couch, munching on a bag of shrimp crackers despite having eaten dinner not long ago, and laughing at Jimin.

 

“Relaaaax,” said Taehyung for the umpteenth time that evening. “I’ve got this under control. I knew what I was doing when I invited him over.” He just looked so nonchalant about all of it, and Jimin honestly couldn’t relate. 

 

“Do you now?” replied Jimin, voice going up an octave. “Last time I checked this was my problem, not yours,” he pouted.

 

Taehyung shook his head. “Trust me, you’ll thank me later,” he said with a wink, although it did nothing to comfort Jimin. “As much as watching you two is entertaining, this is just getting ridiculous. It’ll feel nice to get it all off your chest, just watch.”

 

“Get what off my chest? Tae, I’m not going to be confessing to him or anything; he’s just coming over to play some games.” And if that was the case, he really shouldn’t be this nervous, yet here he was, checking the clock and running his hand through his hair. 

 

“I never said anything about–” Taehyung was cut off by the sound of the doorbell ringing. “I’ll get it,” he announced before setting the bag of crackers on the couch and dashing up the stairs, leaving Jimin alone in the basement. 

 

He told himself to just look and act casual. They were going to play some Smash Bros, so he should be sitting on the couch. Jimin went ahead and did that, smoothing down the wrinkles in his pants. He didn’t have to wait long before Taehyung’s chatter drifted down the stairs, and he descended with Jungkook in tow. The latter wore a loose black shirt that gave Jimin a peek at his collarbone, and a pair of jeans that were a tad short, making way for his exposed ankles. His hair was as messy as ever, and Jimin wondered – not for the first time – what it would feel like to run his fingers through it. 

 

“Yeah, but I don’t mind what difficulty we… Hi, Jimin,” Jungkook trailed off his ongoing sentence, eyes finding the teen on the couch. 

 

“Hey Jungkook,” Jimin offered in return, sounding a bit more breathless than he’d like to. Both guys joined him on the couch, Taehyung taking the far side, and Jungkook plopping down in the middle. Next to Jimin. And he knew Taehyung had done it on purpose. 

 

Taehyung handed them their controllers and started the console. Things were bearable as they chose their players; Taehyung went for Yoshi, Jungkook chose Donkey Kong, and Jimin chose Link. They started to play, and Jimin thought that maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. He’d be so focused on playing that he likely wouldn’t even notice Jungkook much. 

 

The two other boys were getting really competitive, while Jimin was doing his best but ultimately lagging behind. He liked playing video games with Taehyung every now and then, though. It was a nice way to get his mind off of schoolwork. 

 

With a roaring cry, Taehyung shoved Jungkook to try distracting him, which sent the younger knocking into Jimin. Jimin, on instinct, instantly shoved the other back, used to Taehyung doing this to him all the time. But this was not Taehyung. 

 

“AGH, NO” Jungkook exclaimed when his Donkey Kong plummeted from the platform and into the abyss. And he gave Jimin a playful shove in revenge, then looking at the elder almost with hesitation hanging on his features. Jimin swallowed and turned his attention back to the game, noticing his own character had also fallen. 

 

A few matches in, Jungkook was taking the lead over Taehyung, and while Jimin didn’t have any wins under his belt, he had managed to outlast Taehyung thrice and Jungkook once, by some miracle. It was fast-paced, it was energetic, and Jimin was actually kind of having fun. Jungkook was too, if the way he’d laugh when Jimin accidentally sent Link barreling into another character was anything to go by. The shoving continued, and Jimin tried not to make too much of it and focused on the game, having to push Jungkook off of him a few times for the sake of Link’s survival. He was vaguely aware that this was the most intentional physical contact he and Jungkook had ever shared. 

 

Taehyung set his controller down on the coffee table with a huff, choosing not to prompt the next match to begin. “Man, you weren’t kidding when you said you were good,” he said, turning to Jungkook. The younger just gave him a bashful look, smiling into his lap. “Alright, so I’m going to go get snacks. Don’t you dare start again without me,” he warned, then getting up, and Jimin didn’t miss the wink his friend tossed his way behind Junkook’s back before he disappeared down the hallway, likely bound for the cold-storage.

 

Jimin and Jungkook awkwardly sat in silence on the couch, Jimin rubbing his hands on his pants to try and get them to stop being so damn sweaty. Jimin wants…wants to do something, to say something, but can’t bring himself to figure out what. It’s Jungkook that ends up breaking the silence. 

 

“You know, you aren’t actually that bad.”

 

“Um, thanks?” Jimin returns, unsure. 

 

Shifting, Jungkook turned to face him a bit more, lifting a leg up onto the couch. “I mean, Taehyung made it sound like you were terrible.”

 

“Terrible in comparison to you.” This elicited a soft laugh from Jungkook, and the 500 pound creature in Jimin’s stomach decided to take a few excited stomps. The younger propped the side of his head on his arm, which rested on the back of the couch. Somehow it brought his head a bit closer to Jimin, and things fell quiet between them again. Looking Jungkook straight in the eyes almost felt too difficult to maintain, but at the same time he couldn’t bring himself to look elsewhere. While Jimin’s eyes were narrow and had a downward tilt, Jungkook’s eyes were nice and big; easy to drown in. 

 

The two jolted when a low, hoarse noise burst into the room. Taehyung barrelled in with his saxophone, which his parents had gotten him for his 13th birthday before he’d decided maybe the saxophone wasn’t for him three weeks later. His cheeks were puffed up, and he was looking a little red. “Hold on, hold on. I’m a little rusty, but,” With that, he closed his lips around the instrument again, honking out notes into some sort of a melody. Although some notes were off and only half-sounding, Jimin thought he could pick up… Careless Whisper? Really Taehyung? Careless Freaking Whisper? 

 

Jimin didn’t dare look over at Jungkook, one because he was afraid of what he might find, and two because he was too busy staring dumbly at his saxophone-playing friend. When Taehyung was taking another pause in the song to take a deep breath, Jimin took the chance to speak. “Tae, what…?” he asked incredulously, motioning to the entirely of his friend’s form.

 

Taehyung lowered the sax, a light pout appearing on his face. “I’m trying to set the mood, guys. I’ve been planning this for a while, but in my head you two would already be trying to each other’s face off by now.” He looked a little disappointed at the lack of semblance between reality and his imagination. 

 

“And you would have watched like some ert? Is that it?” Jimin shot back, voice starting to raise in pitch. 

 

“Noooooo,” Taehyung moaned in response. “I would have left you two to it, and probably gone upstairs to watch a movie or something and make sure my parents didn’t come down.” Looking down at the sax, the boy frowned. “I guess I’ll go put this back now,” he mumbled before turning around and leaving the room. 

 

Jimin groaned and buried his face into the back of the couch, wishing the cushions would swallow him up. He could just picture Jungkook’s bewilderment, and surely Taehyung had properly scared him off now. That sentiment was only reinforced when he felt the weight lifting from the centre of the couch, and heard Jungkook’s voice saying he was going to the bathroom. Jimin didn’t move for a while, letting the dread take over him. 

 

It was the realization that he really ought to go apologize to the younger that willed him to lift his face from the couch and get to his feet. Standing in front of the bathroom door, he could hear the tap running as Jungkook probably washed his hands. The door opened shortly afterwards, and Jungkook jumped upon seeing him standing there. Before Jimin could start uttering his apology, an arm shot out and the elder was pulled into the bathroom before Jungkook shut the door behind him. 

 

“Sorry,” said Jungkook, a pink tinge to his cheeks. “I just wanted to make sure Taehyung wasn’t about to come around again with his saxophone. Your friend, he’s uh…”

 

“Pretty special, I know,” Jimin filled in, noting the other’s awkward stance. “Look, I’m really sorry about all of this. Tae means well, he just has weird ways of going about it. If I’d have known…” If he’d have known, he would have done his absolute best to prevent that little performance. In regular circumstances, one might be pissing themselves from how funny it was, but this was no ordinary circumstance. 

 

“So he was ‘setting the mood’, huh?” said Jungkook with an uneasy laugh. The boy looked off to the side into the mirror, biting his bottom lip. Jimin found himself momentarily distracted as he tried conjuring an answer to that rhetorical question.

 

“I’m not always entirely sure what goes on inside his head,” was his lame response. Jungkook ruffled up his hair and strode to the toilet, plopping down on top of the cover with a loud exhale. Jimin didn’t know quite what the other was feeling – or did he? – but he felt the need to comfort him in some way. Walking over, Jimin stood in front of him. “It’s okay. We can just…forget this ever happened, alright?”

 

Jungkook tilted his head back to look up at him. “I’m not sure that I can,” he replied, and Jimin’s heart sank. For the longest while, Jimin had no idea what to say to that. Leaving often felt like the best solution in these cases. The other seemed to sense his thoughts, and reached to gently grasp his hand. There was no protest from Jimin’s end, even if he thought his heart was about to burst out of his chest and take off on a sprint, so Jungkook slipped his fingers across the elder’s palm, slow, tentative, before curling them loosely around Jimin’s own four fingers. His touch was warm against his skin, and it almost tickled given the lack of pressure. “Tonight was nice. I mean, it’s always nice.”

 

Jimin had no definition for ‘it’ in this case, but his brain gladly went in at its discretion and filled blanks. And then things fell to their usual silence between them. Jungkook, however, piped up again, his gaze fixating on the top of Jimin’s head. “Your hair. It got all, um,” He made an erratic motion of his hand, and Jimin took it that he’d messed up his hair when burrowing into the couch’s padding. Jungkook was looking at him expectantly, hand still suspended in the air, so Jimin slowly bent down, lowering his head so Jungkook could reach. The younger eyed Jimin for confirmation before taking hold of an errant strand that had defied the flow of his smooth middle parting and directing it back into place. A hand smoothed over the side of his hair, and Jimin found his eyes closing as he leaned into the touch, despite the fact that Jungkook’s fingers were lightly shaking. 

 

When Jimin opened his eyes again, he could see the pores on Jungkook’s nose. Their faces were very close, and neither dared move – or breathe for that matter – and Jimin found himself transported back to all those times Jungkook would stare at him from the bottom of the stairs. He’d thought a lot about what he would do in this type of situation; he knew very much what he wanted to do, and it seemed his body was tired of holding out on him despite the restraints placed by his mind. Jimin let gravity take over and dropped his lips down onto the younger’s. It was just a bump of their mouths; quick, chaste, and maybe not even classified as a kiss depending who you asked. 

 

Jimin quickly pulled back, straightening and swallowing hard. Jungkook’s lips were slightly parted as he gazed up at him, clearly still mulling over what had just happened. Jimin could feel another apology bubbling on his lips, but then Jungkook’s hand was fisted into the fabric of his shirt and he was being pulled down. Their lips collided again, this time for longer. Jimin steadied himself on Jungkook’s shoulders to prevent himself from falling onto the boy, and his hand slipped up to cup the younger beneath the jaw. Both were clumsy in the endeavour, teeth and noses knocking when one tried to angle their head, and Jimin’s neck was craned in an uncomfortable way, but they refused to part from one another, Jungkook still firmly clutching onto Jimin’s shirt, and Jimin having threaded his fingers into the other’s untidy locks. Neither completely knew what they were doing, but both understood that it felt too sweet and too great of a relief to let go of just yet.

 

Needing to breathe, Jimin backed away from Jungkook, stiff in the spine but left with a wonderful tingling sensation across his lips. The silence that hung between them was slightly different from the ones that had come before it. It remained tense, but was filled with mutual understanding rather than strange uncertainty. Jimin smiled down at the ground, feeling a bit giddy all of a sudden. “We should get back before Tae starts looking for us,” said Jimin quietly.

 

“Right,” he heard Jungkook agree. The younger came to stand, so Jimin moved out of the way, and they shuffled over to the door, Jungkook’s frame bumping Jimin’s a few times. The former was the one to open the door… To a very guilty-looking Taehyung who suddenly found the clock on the hallway wall very interesting.

 

Jimin blinked, and Taehyung loudly cleared his throat, clearly catching on that the act wasn’t holding up. “Sorry, but Jin owes me twenty bucks. He said it wouldn’t work.” He couldn’t help the pleased little smile that appeared on his face then. “I’m starting a new match, if you guys still want to play. If you aren’t too busy doing other things, that is.” Taehyung caught Jimin’s gaze for a second before whirling around and hopping off down the hall. 

 

Jungkook’s hand discreetly circled Jimin’s wrist, giving it a light squeeze before he too set off towards the living room. Jimin watched him go, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. The creature in his stomach had shed a few couple hundred pounds, and the boy found himself feeling aflutter. Dizzy, almost. And filled with hope, regardless what may come later.