Chapter Text
The first thing Jimin feels, the second he wakes up, is that his head is pounding. It hurts like hell and every small movement just makes it hurt more. No moving, then. He sighs quietly and slowly opens his eyes, surprised – and so glad – to find that the curtains of his windows are closed. At least no sunlight to make him blind. Jimin doesn’t remember closing them, but then again, he doesn’t remember doing anything after he stormed inside his house, crying so hard he couldn’t see properly as he ran up the stairs to his bedroom. Jimin recalls crying, crying, crying, crying—that would probably explain the headache. It’s not like he drank more than a beer last night.
Gathering all of his strength, he rolls off the side of the bed, sitting up in order to remove his shoes, then his jacket. Jimin curses himself for falling asleep in his party clothes and shoes—it’s not good for his blood circulation, Hoseok tells him that all the time. He runs a hand through his hair then down his face, trying to rub the sleep off and, in a way, soothe his headache. Of course it doesn’t work. It’s probably still early since he can’t hear a single sound around the house, and it’s Sunday, church day, so by now his mother would definitely be calling each one of them out as to not be late.
“Ma?” He calls out the best he can, clearing his throat when his voice comes out too weak. God, he needs some painkillers right now. Jimin finds it within himself to stand up on wobbly knees, carefully walking the small path to his bedroom door and pulling it open. Not a sound – it’s never this quiet around here. “Appa?” He calls again. “Jihyunnie?” Still nothing. Jimin sighs, making his way to the stairs, walking each step a beat too slow because his head just hurts too much. If he is being honest, it’s a good distraction as any for him to not think of the night before. There is still a hint of dried blood on his knuckles. If he tries hard enough, he can still hear Jeongguk yelling at him.
“They’ve left for church,” comes an all too familiar voice from the couch in Jimin’s living room. “Your mom said you could skip it today, Jihyun is covering for you at the shelter.”
“What are you doing here?”
Jeongguk stands up from the couch, reaching a hand out for Jimin. Even from his spot on the last step of the staircase, Jimin still scoots away. He doesn’t need this right now. Jeongguk’s face falls, a soft sigh leaving his chest. “Jiminie, I…”
“What are you doing here, Jeongguk-ah?” He repeats, voice gaining a bit of strength now. Jimin doesn’t raise his voice, ever, and it’s obvious by the way Jeongguk steps back that he notices how mad he really is. “Who let you in?”
“Your mom, she—she found me outside this morning and she asked me to come inside.” Jeongguk stutters a bit, biting down on his bottom lip when the intensity of Jimin’s gaze makes his words falter. “Jiminie, please…”
“What were you doing outside?”
“I came here last night, called you a thousand times but you never answered,” he runs his palms over the fabric of his jeans as if to calm himself down. Jimin’s seen that gesture enough times. “So I just stayed out there waiting for morning to come so I could see you when you went to church.” He grimaces a bit. “But your ma found me.”
Jimin sighs. Of course Jeongguk did that, he shouldn’t be surprised. His heart flutters a bit but there is a nagging voice in his head telling him to stand strong.
“Can we talk, hyung? Please?”
Maybe there is a universe in which Jimin says no. In which he tells Jeongguk to go home, decides to end things with him, never see him again. There is, probably, a different timeline in which Jimin and Jeongguk don’t belong together for eternity—but this isn’t it. There was never a different answer than, “Yes.”
“Yeah?” Jeongguk repeats, a relieved smile stretching across his lips. Jimin rolls his eyes and the action reminds him of how bad his head hurts, so he just waves a hand around as if telling Jeongguk to hurry.
“Upstairs in my bedroom, please. My head is killing me and this house is too bright,” he grumbles. “Since when is this house so bright?”
Jeongguk giggles, the sweet-sounding laugh that has made Jimin’s stomach turn for so long he can’t even remember a time in which things were different. “Bites me, hyung.”
Jimin chews the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning, trying to keep his stern expression going for as long as he can. “Well, I’m going back upstairs. You fetch me some water and painkillers from the kitchen cabinet, okay?”
Jeongguk nods quick, eagerly. Jimin turns on his feet to walk back to his bedroom as fast as his body will allow him, because he doesn’t want Jeongguk to see his control faltering. There will come a day in which Park Jimin isn’t completely whipped by Jeongguk’s ways, but today is not it, either. He curses at himself as he walks, shaking his head to try and clear his mind. When he walks into his dark bedroom, Jimin sighs in relief, crawling onto his bed and laying on his back as he waits for Jeongguk to come along.
A minute or so later, Jeongguk is handing him over a couple of pills along with a tall glass of water, both of which Jimin downs quickly, desperate for some relief. Once that’s out of the way, he pats on the spot next to him in bed, gesturing for Jeongguk to sit down.
“Alright, talk,” Jimin says, lying on his side and bringing his knees to his chest. “You shouldn’t have stayed outside all night, Jeongguk-ah. You could’ve caught a cold.”
Jeongguk shrugs. “I had to see you. Say how sorry I am.”
Their eyes meet for all of one second before Jimin looks away. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. For…for saying that thing. I didn’t mean it, Jiminie, I promise you that I don’t think that at all.”
Jimin sighs, picking on a nonexistent lint on his bed’s comforter. “I’m sorry for punching your friend.”
“He is not my friend,” Jeongguk says weakly.
Jimin perks up, eyebrows raising as he looks up to meet Jeongguk’s eyes. He seems genuinely sorry and Jimin knows he should be tougher than this, but he finds himself asking, “Why not? Is everything okay?”
“He is an idiot, is all. You shouldn’t concern yourself with—”
“Jeongguk-ah.”
The younger sighs, running a hand over his face. “After you ran away, I went inside to get my phone and jacket and stuff, and…and Yugyeom came to talk to me.”
Jimin doesn’t speak, just gestures for Jeongguk to keep going.
“He asked where were you and I said you left. For some reason, he—he thought I had sent you away?” Jeongguk shakes his head. “In a way I know I did, but not like that. Not because I didn’t want you there, not because I wanted you to leave by yourself.”
“Yeah, I know that,” Jimin says. “What else?”
“Then he tried to kiss me.”
Jimin sits up straight so fast his head is dizzy, but there is a strong hand on his shoulder, gently lying him back down on the mattress. “Let me the fucking go, I’m gonna—”
“No, no, wait. He didn’t, okay? He didn’t kiss me. I didn’t let him, hyung,” Jeongguk rubs Jimin’s shoulder gently. “I pushed him away and told him to stay away from me. And that…that I was glad that my boyfriend had punched him.”
Silence. Jimin relaxes a bit under the pressure on his shoulder, melting into the mattress again. Jeongguk moves closer, brings his hand up to cup Jimin’s cheek instead. Eyes to eyes, Jeongguk’s breath fanning over Jimin’s lips. “I’m sorry,” Jeongguk whispers. “I’m stupid. I am so, so stupid.”
“You are.”
“Yeah, I know,” he grins. “But I promise to never, ever yell at you like that again. And to try my damn hardest to not let anything like that happen, either.”
Jimin nods shyly, licking his bottom lip slowly. “You look like shit, did you know?” He touches the dark bags under Jeongguk’s eyes with his fingertips almost reverently. “I’m sorry you stayed outside all night.”
Jeongguk rolls his eyes fondly, leaning the short space in between them to press his lips to Jimin’s. It’s sweet and calm, just lazy kisses that make Jimin sigh deeply and Jeongguk melt as he adjusts to lay on top of him. He kicks off his shoes as quietly as he possibly can without breaking the kiss, lies on top of Jimin with as much grace as one could possibly muster. Jimin grins, nibbling on his bottom lip.
“What are you doing?”
“Kissing you,” Jeongguk says like it’s obvious, pecking his lips again. Jimin rolls his eyes before they flutter shut of their own accord, petite hands moving to clutch onto Jeongguk’s shoulders and gently push him away.
“I have a headache, Jeonggukie,” he says.
Jeongguk shrugs. “That’s okay. You know what’s really good for headaches?”
Jimin knows exactly what he’s going to say, but he decides to humor him either way. “What?”
“Orgasms.”
The bubbly, airy laughter that leaves Jimin’s chest is so unexpected that it makes him blush a pretty rosy color, hands covering his face as he shakes his head lightly. “Oh, god, go away.”
Jeongguk grins, scooting over down Jimin’s legs to undo his jeans. “Come on, hyung. Just a quick one to make you feel better.”
“I hate you,” Jimin says, but makes no move to stop him at all. He rises his hips off the bed when Jeongguk starts pulling his leather pants down and kicks them off to make the job faster—Jimin thinks he can hear Jeongguk snicker, but he doesn’t bother to look.
“You don’t,” is what Jeongguk says after a while, pressing kisses to the inside of Jimin’s thighs, leaving small bruises on his way up to his crotch.
“I don’t.”
Jimin sighs when he feels Jeongguk’s hands pulling his boxers down, cringes at how fast it was to get him hard, bites down on his lip when he feels the kisses on his inner thighs again. He looks down just in time to see Jeongguk licking across his palm and he cries when the younger’s hand closes around his cock, stroking him slow but firmly.
“I…fucking…hate…how good you are at th—this,” Jimin stutters, hips bucking into Jeongguk’s hand. There is a hint of breath fanning in between his legs and then he feels the wetness of Jeongguk’s tongue dancing across his balls, sucking and mouthing on them gently as his hand quickens the pace. “Oh, no, god, no, I don’t.”
Jeongguk chuckles and there are small vibrations being sent through Jimin’s body, lower stomach tensing up, eyes rolling back. He doesn’t there look down there, knows from previous experiences that the sight is almost guaranteed to make him come in the spot and he wants to milk this for all its worth.
Jeongguk pulls his mouth away but his hand is relentless, stroking Jimin’s cock with fast flicks of wrist, his thumb rubbing against the underside of the head because he knows that nothing gets Jimin off better than that stimulation. “Jiminie, look at me,” he pleads softly. Jimin shakes his head furiously, covering his face with both palms to hide himself. He is sobbing tiny soft moans of Jeongguk’s name now and Jeongguk doubts there was ever something prettier. “Please, hyung. Let me see you.”
Jimin hates how weak he is for Jeongguk—but then again, he really doesn’t. He removes his hands from his face, biting down on his lip hard as he chances a glance in between his legs. Jeongguk’s pupils are blown wide, tongue darting out to lick his own bottom lip every now and again as he watches his hand moving fast on his boyfriend’s erection.
“Jiminie, I’m really, really sorry,” he says. Later on, Jimin would recall that there was an actual pout on Jeongguk’s face when he said that. Right now, though, all he sees is white hot pleasure running through his veins and crashing all over his body, his cock spurting come all over Jeongguk’s fist.
“Oh my god,” he cries out loudly, back arching off the mattress and then collapsing back down as he tries to catch his breath. Jeongguk is still stroking him fast and Jimin’s thighs are threatening to close around his head due to the overstimulation but it’s perfect, absolutely perfect. It’s not until his hips are bucking involuntarily and he is sobbing for Jeongguk to stop that the younger does, letting go of his spent cock and bringing his fingers to his own mouth to lick them clean. Jimin sighs deeply. “Oh my god.”
“You’ve said that.”
“I hate you.”
“I really am sorry,” Jeongguk climbs up to Jimin’s lips, pressing a soft kiss against them. Jimin can taste himself and, if he minds, he doesn’t say a word. “Do you understand that?”
There is a small, tired nod from Jimin. He wraps his arms around Jeongguk’s shoulders and pulls him down into a tight hug. The younger sighs softly against Jimin’s chest, eyes fluttering closed.
“Let me just…” Jimin reaches down in between them for the front of Jeongguk’s pants.
“If you don’t let me sleep right now, I might die,” is what he gets in response. Jimin giggles, raising his hand in surrender.
“Alright,” he brushes his fingers through Jeongguk’s bangs, letting him get adjusted on his chest and seek his well-deserved sleep. “Sleep tight.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Jeonggukie.”
Jeongguk falls asleep on his chest and it’s to the sound of his soft snores, his breath fanning Jimin’s chin, his hair tickling his neck, that Jimin drifts off as well.
They’re definitely not dressed in the most comfortable pajamas, Jimin is a bit concerned about his family coming into his room to find him naked from the waist down like that, there is still a hint of dried blood on his knuckles, but it’s the happiest he’s ever going to be.
Because it’s Jeongguk and it’s their love, and nothing could ever come in between.