January came and went with no big upsets, save that Jin-hyung doubled his course load to include dance and comparative religion studies as well as reading, writing and mathematics. He accompanied him everywhere, now that they had worked out how to shield things, and had little compunction about sending him out on trips to buy groceries or other necessities, or even make runs to some of the older folk in the vicinity that couldn’t come to the complex during the winter snows. He grew to love Seoul as a glittering, snowy wonderland, until the noise no longer scared him and he could reliably travel via bus and train, if not comfortably so.

 

Shortly before January’s end, he finally got his first kiss, and predictably from Taehyung, if only because Taehyung had made fun of his questions about the Valentine’s Day decorations in all the shops. It had been fine, nice even, but then he only had drama standards to go by. The world didn’t stop and spin, they didn’t fall over hilariously on each other’s mouths, and they hadn’t done it anywhere near a scenic cliff during sunset. It had just been… nice. Tae had had one of his fox-cackles when he finally confessed that he didn’t know what the big deal was.

 

After that had come a few more, but it felt more like an advanced form of skin-ship than anything else. Somehow, without explanation, with just a gut feeling, he knew that Tae had someone waiting for him. Whether it was him he really didn’t know, though the possibility warmed him a little.

 

Two days later, at the massive end-of-year celebrations at the court, Jimin finally discovered one of his passions – dancing. He was fascinated by it all, both the sacred forms and the old Joseon court dances still practiced, as well as the more contemporary forms, even if contemporary in the court meant they were still cheerfully doing the minuet. His bones knew what to do, and he happily squired around old and young alike. One memorable dance he danced with Soomi between himself and Tae as they spun around the family apartments.

 

That night, half-drunk and half-sentimental, the two of them pinky-swore in the dim silence of Tae’s bed. They would always support each other, whether as friends or… or, well, he didn’t know, but no one commented on it the next day. Namjoon raised his eyebrows though, and Jin smiled like the mom he was when they broke the news. Taehyung's mother just looked at them with ancient eyes, a spark of something sad in the silver, before she gravely praised her son for his taste in friends.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Come on, Jiminie, if you keep on studying like this your brain’s going to hulk out and your body will rot,” Taehyung  whined. “You’ve got all those pretty clothes in your closet and you don’t even wear them. It’s Valentine’s Day!”

 

Jimin gritted his teeth not to give in to Taehyung’s pleading. He was so tired of not knowing things, from how to work on his laptop on to how cars worked in this world. The last time he had tried to make a fire inside the oven Jin-hyung had promptly kicked him out of the kitchen and made him promise never to touch another utensil. “Tae, I can’t.”

 

It was weak and they both knew it. Taehyung’s eyes narrowed and he pounced on the opportunity like the predator he was, leaning forward onto the low table. “Please?” he pouted. “It’s almost time for Seollal, and then I’m going to be away, and we won’t have any time to hang out. My grandmother’s place is the opposite of fun. There isn’t even cell reception there.”

 

“You should go, Jiminie,” Jin got in from the side, where he was doing the books at the dining room table. “You did like the dancing, right? And as mischievous as Tae-tae is, I don’t think he’d lose you on purpose.”

 

“…and this way it’ll leave some time for Namjoon-hyung to come and visit here,” Taehyung continued on wickedly. “Do you really want to third-wheel that?”

 

“What are you even saying, you unruly child?” Jin squawked. “Have some respect for your elders!”

 

Taehyung grinned wide and happily. “But you’re not older than I am, hyung.”

 

Jimin, seeing Jin’s cheeks flush pink, hopped straight to stop Taehyung’s teasing from inciting any more of Jin’s temper. “I would love to go out,” he rushed, despite having little idea of what it entailed. “Tae-tae, would you like to pick my clothes? I don’t know what to wear, sorry.”

 

He hadn’t even finished when Taehyung squealed and made for his room, leaving Jin to shake his head and grin. “Enjoy yourself, Jiminie,” he murmured, softer. “Take my card with you, and your cell, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Jimin breathed out, rising anxiety foiled. “Thank you, Jin-hyung.”

 

By the time he got to his room, Taehyung had already yanked open his closet and pulled out most of his clothes. He leant against the lintel to watch his friend sort and discard. “You know, I still have no idea what this going-out thing is about. Where are we going?”

 

“Depends on who you go with,” Taehyung muttered as he held up a striped black shirt, frowning at it. “Either it’s to have fun, or it’s to engage in a socially awkward mating dance interspersed by alcohol and hot dancing. There’s a club I know in Itaewon.”

 

Jimin blinked, mind grinding to a halt. “That sounds… thrilling,” he managed weakly before his eyes rounded. “Tae, no. Not those!”

 

The pants in question had been bought at Jin’s insistence, black and shiny, that hugged every curve of his legs and his backside. Oh, they were comfortable, but he had the sneaky suspicion they weren’t quite ahjumma-approved.

 

“You’re wearing these,” Taehyung said forcefully, reaching behind him to snatch a sports jacket out of the closet. “And I’ll wear leather, and we’ll go and set the world on fire.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Jimin slouched against the bar of the club and sighed, going down the list of deities that he knew to thank them for surviving the night so far. Jin had luckily vetoed most of the makeup Taehyung wanted to put on him, and offered a few hints, but none of them covered being danced off his feet by an overactive gumiho in search of a fun time. It had also not covered grinding, which was apparently a legitimate dance move, nor the way his head hurt furiously at the constant sound of the music.

 

He grimaced at the taste of whiskey in his mouth, but finished the drink. He felt weird, not sick, but his heart was trembling with some strange emotion and he didn’t know what to make of the glances people were throwing his way. There were supernaturals throughout the crowd – the club was owned by one – so the world looked rather like a vivid hallucination at the moment. Groaning, he let his head hang tiredly, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to try and calm down.

 

Somewhere in that long moment the music changed, became something with a driving beat, and a warm body pushed into the slim space between himself and the wall, jostling him back. Jimin opened his eyes and frowned slightly, starting to move apart to get his personal space back.

 

“Don’t,” the slim figure said. His voice was deep, almost like Taehyung’s, but if he had an inch over Jimin it was a lot, and he was dressed in black from head to toe, with a hoodie covering his head and face. The only hint of colour was a yellow post-it he was nervously crumpling, tossing it aside without second thought. “Please. Just a moment. I need a break.” His accent was thick as gravel, but somehow easing as well, like a slow rough purr.

 

Jimin’s heart melted a little, understanding the need for a break only too well, and the stranger’s voice reminded him of Muji’s drowsy purr. “Okay,” he muttered, and scooted back to where he was before. The man smelled faintly of something sweet, as if he put on cologne or smoked a flavoured something.

 

The seconds marched on slowly as the two of them stood there, backs to the storm of bodies on the dancefloor, and finally the man next to him exhaled. “Thanks, sunshine.” The words had barely left his mouth when he turned to leave, disappearing into the crowd as easily as he had emerged from it.

 

Confused at the endearment, Jimin caught only a glimpse of a mouth set with pain beneath the hoodie as he watched the stranger disappear. “You’re welcome?” he whispered, shaking his head in confusion. He wasn't quite sure what made him pick up the post-it and tuck it into his cellphone case. Drawing in a deep breath of courage, he followed to go and look for Taehyung, ready to do battle for his right to go home. There was a thunderstorm coming, and he didn't fancy being trapped in a downpour so close to Seollal.

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1. So the first thing to note for those not in the know is that the Korean New Year is not actually on 1 January. That means that characters haven’t “aged up” yet, and are still their old ages, at least according to the Korean way of doing things (as I understand it). That only happens at Seollal, which is the start of the lunar calendar, and occurred on 16 February in 2018.
2. February 2018 was a month that had no full moon, thus the moniker of ‘Black Moon’, thus the chapter title.
3. Jimin’s pants for Valentine’s Day is inspired by that infamous Not Today performance. I’m also devoutly thankful I can blame going through countless BTS leather pants pictures on research. Thank you, stylist unnies!
4. Taehyung wears leather like he's used to it.
5. My favourite upbeat BTS song is Fire, which is what played whilst I typed the club scene.
6. That thundering you hear in the distance is the sound of the last of the maknae line hauling his muscled hiney closer.