Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

September 1 st 2014

Taehyung is eighteen years, eight months and two days old.

“Taehyung-ssi, right?”

Taehyung whirls around, thoughts about getting a strawberry shake or a strawberry shake with whipped cream halted, to find Jimin standing in line behind him. His fingers go lax and the headphone he was holding drop, the chord dangling uselessly down his body. He’d been listening to one of the tracks Yoongi and Namjoon are currently working on together. They asked him to lay vocals on it and Taehyung was listening to it for the fourth time in a row when he felt the tap on his shoulder.

He looks at Jimin now and feels like he just hit a wall at full speed; dizzy, shocked and a little nauseous. He stares at him for so long that Jimin’s shy smile starts to dim. Taehyung knows he’s supposed to reply. Open his mouth and say words, act normal, pretend he’s not feeling like someone suddenly caught his heart on a hook and keeps tugging on it relentlessly.

Taehyung stares at Jimin and wracks his brain for words, any words, but the only ones he seems to remember right now are: SOULMATE and FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (exclamation points included).

He stares at Jimin while his eyes go dry and his heart hammers away. Is he sweating? Yup, that’s definitely sweat dripping down his back.

Fuck !

That’s his soulmate .

Jimin is standing right in front of him and Taehyung is gaping. Has been gaping for an uncomfortable amount of minutes, now.

Park Jimin is real. Taehyung didn’t used to know his name. Isn’t that just the weirdest and saddest thing? He didn’t know his fucking soulmate’s fucking last name.

Fuck.

Jimin isn’t smiling anymore. Taehyung can’t help but think that he’s still the most gorgeous person he ever laid eyes on.

His eyes are seeing Jimin. For real. For the second time ever.

Tug, tug, tug .

In his dreams, Jimin came to Taehyung like every other dream; tempered by an unconscious mind. Surreal and untouchable. Taehyung knows his face like one knows one’s mother tongue: without having to study it.; something that came with life, practice and familiarity. Something he doesn’t have to think twice about but still knows like he knows his own heartbeat.

Taehyung knows Jimin’s face like one knows their favorite childhood story: worn from love but ever changing; so old that every time one tells it again, the story feels like a fairy tale.

Jimin is Taehyung’s fairy tale, spoken in a language only he knows; only he uses.

A language no one, not even Jimin, has ever heard.

Watching Jimin now is like being thrust into that story, into a memory, and reliving it for the first time. Everything about it is so vibrant, so fresh and yet so dear and so familiar. New. Different. Taehyung doesn’t know if it’s better, not yet. He’s not really sure if he wants to know.

Tug, tug, tug .

Jimin’s face isn’t just Jimin’s face; it comes with an entire body. Obviously, Taehyung knew that; he knew Jimin’s wasn’t just a face bobbing away. He’s seen Jimin’s body before.

But somehow, right now, it feels like brand new information.

“It is… Taehyung, right?”

Hearing Jimin say his name feels a bit like what being tipsy feels like.

Tug, tug, tug.

When Taehyung tries to speak, some kind of ridiculous sound comes out. Jimin startles, beautiful brown eyes widening in surprise. He looks around quickly and Taehyung blushes.

He also wants to die.

“Yeah,” it comes out as a puff of air so he tries again. “Yes, that’s me. And you’re Jimin.” Because there’s no point in pretending he doesn’t remember. Not when he’s been gawking at him for so long now.

Not when his soul knows Jimin’s.

Jimin’s lips tug ever so slightly to the side, a sketch of a smile. Something sweet and endearing. His cheeks puff out a little.

Taehyung’s never seen him do that. He shivers.

“Yes. We keep missing each other, right?” Taehyung’s heart thuds against his ribcage. “Namjoon has been talking you up for over a year. He says you’re the best roommate he’s ever had,” Jimin smiles encouragingly at Taehyung, as if trying to ease him into engaging with him. “He says you’re very kind.”

Taehyung blushes, feeling his chest bloom with warmth.

‘ talking you up’ , more like trying to set them up (“ he’s really cute, Taehyung. I think you’d be well suited.” “Did I ever mention that Hoseok’s friend is a dancer. A dancer, Taehyung!” “He reads for fun. That’s really sexy, Taehyungie.” “He’s the kind of gentle you are. He reminds me of you, not in personality but rather in the way you love.”) and always missing out by almost nothing.

“It’s a shame we only talked briefly that night. That ice must have been hard to find,” Jimin continues, his nose scrunching up with a cute little laugh.

God.

Tug, tug, tug.

Taehyung feels like maybe there isn’t enough air in the entire universe.

“Yeah,” he eventually manages to let out. His tongue feels heavy. That evening, exactly two months ago, he disappeared in the bathroom for half an hour and then hid in Namjoon’s room (he had a spare key) until all the guests (Jimin) went home.

After he found Jimin’s letter last June, Taehyung was torn between looking for Jimin and letting fate do its thing. He almost called Minho dozens of times to ask if he remembered a Jimin but every time something (fear, paralyzing, terrible fear) made him stop. After that, he spent the next three weeks with his eyes peeled open, wandering around campus like they were seeing it for the first time all over again. He never caught sight of Jimin however. He ended up thinking that fate had indeed done its thing and made Jimin’s letter appear out of nowhere. That Jimin was never at SNU to begin with. That, maybe, there was another exhibit somewhere with another Moon Boy.

After all the Bond made him see Jimin in dreams, etched marks on people’s skin and made people hear thoughts that weren’t their own.

What else could it do? It’s not like anyone really knew the extent of it.

He convinced himself that fate was playing with again until he found Jimin in his room looking out of his window at the moon.

Like he came out straight of Taehyung’s dreams.

(Fate did play with him again that night but not the way he expected.)

And now, Jimin is right here.

Taehyung feels his finger twitch, itching to poke Jimin’s nose and see if he was real. He manages to collect himself enough to continue with this broken and awkward conversation.

“I heard you went on vacation the next morning.”

“Yes. I went back home and then we spent a couple of weeks in Europe. Paris and Rome, mostly,” Jimin explains, gently putting his hand on Taehyung’s forearm to lead him away from the queue.

Taehyung’s whole body lights up at the impression of touch.

“Paris,” he breathes.

Jimin’s grin blossoms on his face like a spring day. “It was so beautiful,” he sighs.

“Did you go to the Louvre?”

“Of course,” he scoffs good-naturedly. “Here,” he pulls out his phone from his pocket and scours through what Taehyung knows to be thousands of pictures on it to find the ones he took in the museum. He tilts the phone toward Taehyung and they shuffle closer together to look at the screen. Jimin shoots him a small smile, something fragile in its shyness and Taehyung wants to know him - the real him - so badly he aches with it.

Jimin swipes over the pictures while giving away small tidbits of information about each one. A picture catches Taehyung’s eyes in particular so when Jimin start to swipe past it, Taehyung unthinkingly puts his hand over Jimin’s wrist to stop the movement.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, face aflame.

“S’alright,” Jimin reassures him softly.

They look at each other for a fleeting moment and Jimin’s face, familiar and new, looks so kind, so open, that Taehyung somehow gets it. He understands the soulmate thing. He knows why souls recognize each other and why some people would wait a lifetime to find their match.

He looks back at the screen and smiles at the Jimin posing in front of the Venus of Milo. He’s tan, his skin glowing and there are clear freckles over the bridge of his nose. His dark brown hair looks lighter than it is now and it falls delicately over his forehead, like he, too, was a masterpiece over which someone poured hours and dedicated their entire soul to. He has a silly smile on his handsome face and he’s making a V sign with his ringed fingers. He’s wearing a simple white tee shirt, jean shorts (thighs!) and sunglasses. He looks so good, so full of life; like an ethereal being, walking amongst humanity as though he forgot he wasn’t supposed to be here at all.

Taehyung looks away from the picture and swallows.

“It looks nice,” he says lamely. “I’ve always wanted to go,” he adds after a moment. Jimin looks at him, gaze soft and face open, pink lips as inviting as sin.

Fuck.

“Are you into art?”

Taehyung nods. “Yeah, it’s my major. Well photography, mainly but I also take courses in Applied Arts.”

“Ah, well, I hope you get to go, Taehyung-ssi.”

The use of the formality is a startling reminder of what they are.

Strangers.

“Thank you, Jimin-ssi.”

Wordlessly, they get back in line, this time side by side. They remain silent as they shuffle forward every minute or so. Taehyung catches Jimin stealing glances at him and it makes excitement drum down his limbs.

“Do you have class?” Jimin eventually asks after they’ve placed their orders.

“Not for a couple of hours.”

Jimin nods and there’s a blush on his cheeks as he says, “Wanna hang out? I could show you more pictures of Paris.”

There are so many reasons why Taehyung should say no (self preservation, the fact that he doesn’t want to lie, the way he can’t make himself look away from the light pink of Jimin’s cheeks,…) but he finally relents and goes along with the tugging. Without his consent his mouth says:

“Yes. I’d love that.”

September 1 st 2015

Jimin is nineteen, ten months and nineteen days old.

It’s Jimin’s first real free weekend of the school year and he’s spending it moving and building furniture. His clothes are sticking to his skin with sweat, his arms are sore and he’s terribly hungry but somehow that seems insignificant when he can hear Taehyung grunting and then suddenly bursting out laughing. Jimin whirls around to find him clutching his side, flat on his ass with a cardboard box between his sprawled out legs.

Box of Namjoon’s books 6 – Taehyung 0.

Last spring, Namjoon sold a few songs to an idol company and a few weeks later, some of Taehyung’s photographs got noticed by an anonymous wealthy person and were sold for an outrageous amount of money. They both agreed to use the money to find a bigger and better apartment.

An apartment that isn’t far at all from Jimin’s own.

Now, Jimin looks down at him, fondness making his smile way too soft for his liking. He offers his hand and one of the planets Taehyung calls hands engulf Jimin’s own.

It’s not just that Taehyung’s hands are huge; it’s that they come with their own gravitational pull. Jimin doesn’t think Taehyung realizes it but to him, the other boy feels like the very center of a galaxy. One incandescent, infinite point that has lit up Jimin’s sky like no one else ever had before.

Jimin’s fingers brush Taehyung’s writs, making the various bracelets there fall further down his forearm. He feels Taehyung shiver and quickly pull his hand away. Jimin frowns; surprised and a little hurt. Immediately, Taehyung’s eyes grow big and he grabs Jimin’s hand again, pulling until it lies flat against his chest.

“Sorry,” he says as he keeps pulling on Jimin’s arm until Jimin crouches in front of him. “Sorry, I’m just… really sensitive there,” he explains with a blush.

Jimin feels his own face catch fire.

“Oh. I understand,” he offers a smile and ruffles Taehyung’s hair with his other hand just to watch him lean into the touch.

Taehyung is so good at receiving affection and Jimin is really happy about that because he’s really good at giving it.

He looks down at the wrist in question noticing not for the first time that Taehyung has applied a bandage there.

“Why do you always wear this?” he asks rubbing a thumb over the surface of it. Taehyung shivers once again and Jimin sends him a teasing smile that Taehyung doesn’t watch because he’s avoiding Jimin’s eyes.

“My watch’s wristband irritates my skin sometimes,” he says with a shrug.

Jimin frowns. “Why do you keep wearing it then?”

“It was my father’s. He gave it to me when I left home. I love it,” Taehyung explains. Jimin nods and, after thinking for a moment, he straightens up and goes looking for his backpack. There are boxes, half built furniture, and tools everywhere so it takes him a couple of minutes before he can locate it. He searches its content until he finds the small emergency kit he has in there. He goes back to Taehyung, sits by his side this time and rummages through the kit until he finds the soothing cream his mother made him pack.

“My mother swears by this,” he says, offering the tube to Taehyung.

He’d offer to apply the cream for Taehyung but he looks… closed off. Jimin has the distinct feeling that he’s being lied to, that there’s more to the bandage than Taehyung lets on.

Taehyung is entitled to his secrets and if this is something he wants to keep for a while longer, Jimin can wait. They’ve already shared so much together.

“Thank you,” Taehyung says, smile just sad enough to make Jimin put his arm around his friend and kiss the side of his head.

“Any time, Taetae.”

He means it. There isn’t much in this world Jimin wouldn’t do for him.

Taehyung came into his life very much like a whirlwind. From that first meeting in his room where he left such a lasting impression that Jimin thought about him all summer, to these days where a day spent without Taehyung feels like a lost day.

It’s funny how sometimes, you’re so used to the way things are in your life, to the people in orbit around you that it feels like nothing will ever change. That even the possibility of meeting new people and having them be a big part of your life doesn’t cross your mind. Jimin was happy with the way his first year of university turned out; he’d studied hard, got good grades and met a few good people. It was more than fine; he was quite happy and relieved. Then Taehyung happened and suddenly it felt almost wrong that he hadn’t been part of Jimin’s life all along.

And it’s not that Taehyung is the kind of person that makes a big deal out of themselves or seeks attention but he’s… big. Jimin has thought about it a lot (a lot, a lot) and that’s the only way to describe Taehyung. He takes up so much space, fills up the cracks in Jimin, paints the darkest corners of Jimin soft lavender and hangs stars over the ceiling of his heart. He’s made himself at home in Jimin’s little world, brightened it up, and all Jimin wants is more of him.

The funny thing is that for the first few weeks of their friendship, Jimin sincerely believed Taehyung was only indulging him. He was convinced Taehyung was only putting up with him because they had a few friends in common and he didn’t want dinner parties to be awkward for all of them.

He seemed to be avoiding Jimin at all costs. They only ever met by chance and Jimin was always the one offering to hang out, to study together, and to bring him tea after class. Taehyung seemed to have fun with Jimin and he always made sure to tell him so but he never initiated anything. Whenever Jimin stumbled upon him, he always looked on the verge of running away. At first, Jimin had assumed that Taehyung was shy and that social interactions made him uneasy but that thought was quickly dashed when he saw how Taehyung was during big gatherings. The term ‘life of the party’ was invented so that it could be used on Taehyung. He was an amazing host, seemed to know literally everyone on campus and its surroundings, and he looked very much at home surrounded by people, even people he barely knew.

So Jimin started wondering if maybe he was the problem; if maybe Taehyung didn’t really like him but couldn’t bring himself to turn Jimin down; that maybe he was too nice for his own good. The thought made something distasteful sit on the back of Jimin’s throat.

If Taehyung didn’t like him, he wasn’t going to be pitied.      

So, one day, in late October when Jimin literally bumped into Taehyung and made the other boy drop the portfolio he was holding, Jimin saw it as an opportunity to let him off the hook. He helped Taehyung gather and pick up the pictures that had slipped out of his portfolio and handed them over.

“These are beautiful, Taehyung,” Jimin said with a strained smile. Taehyung blushed and gave him a shy little smile before stashing the portfolio in his bag.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “Where are you rushing off to?”

“Hobi hyung forgot his keys again and he needs to get his gear before his next class,” Jimin explained with an eye roll.

“Yoongi hyung is always complaining about Hobi’s keys,” Taehyung commented with a grin. Jimin looked at that smile and felt roots start to grow inside of him. He felt warm; like Jimin was in a snowstorm and Taehyung was the fire he could see through the window of far off house.

He seemed so inviting but Jimin hated that he felt like he was intruding every time they hung out.

“Yoongi hyung should try being his roommate,” Jimin tried to joke but it came out rather flat.

“Uhm, do you want me to go with you?” Taehyung offered after a pause but he looked unsure, like he was already regretting saying the words.

Jimin’s lip tightened as he bristled. “Look, Taehyung, I appreciate it but you don’t have to do this.”

Taehyung frowned. “Do what?”

“Pretend you like me,” Jimin said in a rush, quietly. “It’s okay if you don’t.” Taehyung gaped at him. He had a large mouth. Very pink. Jimin shook his head. “Seriously, man, it’s fine.”

“You think I don’t like you?” Taehyung asked and he looked so surprised that Jimin swallowed back the ‘ I know you don’t’ that was about to cross his lips. He stared at Taehyung trying to understand him. He looked almost sad at the idea.

“Jimin, I’m sorry,” he said and looked like meant it too. Something cracked inside Jimin but he felt stupid for it. They barely knew each other.

He shook his head. “Don’t apologize. You don’t have to like me.”

Taehyung took a step forward and his hands almost reached out for Jimin before he thought better of it and let them drop to his side.

“Jimin, I don’t don’t like you.”

Jimin frowned. “You don’t don’t like me?”

Taehyung nods. “I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t. I just… I get overwhelmed sometimes. I think,” he took a deep breath and poked Jimin’s shoulder. “I think you’re rather great, actually.”

Warmth bubbled inside of Jimin. A slow simmer at first but when Taehyung’s lips stretched into a tentative grin, the bubbles grew, overflowing inside Jimin’s chest and making a mess of his insides. They stared at each other for a while longer and Jimin felt, absurdly, like he was about to embark on an adventure as he smiled back.

“Come on. You know Hoseok hates waiting,” Taehyung said tilting his head in invitation.

Jimin hesitated for another second, feeling that he was being humored still.

“You don’t have to,” Jimin tried but Taehyung shook his head.

“Nah, I have a couple of hours to kill. Plus, I think I owe you a few teas,” he said and grinned one of the most brilliant grins Jimin had ever seen. The force of it stilled Jimin in his movements. He blinked at the other boy and thought that, maybe, some people were meant to shine just a bit brighter than others.

Jimin followed him and felt very much like a moth.

When he thinks about those first few weeks and compares them to what they are now, Jimin feels almost silly. He’s never been safer than under Taehyung’s careful attentions.

Taehyung looks at him now, an unreadable smile on his lips and a happy twinkle in his eyes. They’re rather close, now that Jimin thinks about it, but it’s nothing new. Not for them.

He likes looking at the mole on Taehyung’s nose up close.

“There’s this new kid called Jungkook in our old building. He works at a pet store and he promised that he’d let us play with the puppies after closing time if I beat him at fifa.”

“Us?”

“Of course,” Taehyung says and leans over so that his nose brushes the tip of Jimin’s.

Jimin giggles and leans back to look seriously at him. “You can beat this punk?”

“Oh, Jiminie. Oh, sweet summer child. It’s like we’re already covered in dog hair.”

A few hours later, as Jimin watches Taehyung and Jungkook roll around with puppies, Jimin thinks it’s quite wonderful that some people get to shine just a bit brighter than others. It made life safer to navigate.

September 1 st 2016

Taehyung is twenty years, eight months and two days old.

“Tae, for the last time! We can’t have fucking monkeys at this party,” Jimin says getting to his feet. He sounds exasperated but, to Taehyung, his eyes seem to shine fondly.

Taehyung knows when to press his advantage. He pouts. “Why not?”

Jimin groans and flops back down on the couch, head resting against the cushions. His grey hair parted on each side of his forehead makes him look a lot more sophisticated than the sleep deprived med student he is. Taehyung’s eyes wander to Jimin’s plush mouth on their own accord. They stay there for a while, a very fraught while, before Taehyung collects himself.

“I’m not having this conversation again,” Jimin says, eyes glued to the ceiling.  A few balloons have floated up there and Jimin extends a hand to pull on the strings. Taehyung watches, entranced as always, as his fingers curl around the thread.

Jimin’s hands. Taehyung could fill up museums with just Jimin’s hands.

Jimin sounds pragmatic as he carries on and it’s annoying but comforting at the same time and just a little hot. “Besides the logistics of actually acquiring a …,” He turns questioning eyes to Taehyung.

“A marmoset. The smallest type of monkey,” Taehyung provides

“Yes, thank you. Besides the logistics of acquiring a marmoset , which I’m pretty would prove to be illegal,” he sends a pointed glare at Taehyung who rolls his eyes; “You know damn well that if we bring a monkey to Jungkook, he’s never letting go of it.”

”I really don’t see how that’s a problem,” Taehyung comments, crossing his arms.

Jimin gets back on his feet again just to cross his arms right back at him.

“No monkeys!” he insists with the tone a doctor would use on a patient with diabetes who’s been gorging on sweets.

“I know a guy,” Taehyung informs him knowing full well that he’s fighting a lost cause. (Not that he ever had any inkling that he would win. It’s just. Arguing with Jimin, the banter, the back and forth; it’s really easy. It’s comforting. It makes Taehyung feel… connected, ironically enough.) “It really wouldn’t be that difficult.”

“I’m going to say this even though you probably know this and you probably love it but: that sounds shady as fuck.”

“I think it sounds super cool. ‘ I know a monkey guy .’ Makes me sound, interesting. Eccentric.”

“Makes you sound like a furrie,” Jimin retorts.

Taehyung smirks, just to infuriate him further. “Like I said; interesting.”

Jimin growls. An actual, full fledged and served with a side of curled fists, growl. “Christ! No Monkeys!”

Taehyung has more than one card up his sleeve though. “How about clowns?”

Jimin stares at him for at least twenty seconds. That’s a long time to be stared at by Park Jimin. He sighs before holding up a finger.

“One: Jungkook is turning twenty, not five,” he starts.

“Debatable,” Taehyung interrupts and has the pleasure of watching Jimin’s lips twitch with amusement.

“Two,” he continues pointedly, “Hoseok is, uh… wary of clowns.”

“He’s scared as shit, you mean.”

“Exact. And three: need I remind you that the party is tonight? Less than um,” he looks at the watch on his wrist (a birthday gift from Taehyung) “less than seven hours away. We can’t hire some clown the day of the party.”

Taehyung shrugs and inspects his fingernails. He sniffs and looks at Jimin through his eyelashes. “I know a guy.”

Jimin groans. “I’m going to punch you.”

Taehyung almost grins but covers it up with a gasp.

“If I knew this is how I was going to be treated when I offered to help you organize this party, I would have never volunteered.”

“I literally had to beg you,” Jimin says, eyes hooded.

“I came here with my heart open, ready to work my perky butt off to organize little Kookie’s birthday party and instead of gratitude, I get all my hopes and dreams squashed to nothing.”

“Your monkey and clown dreams,” Jimin deadpans.

Taehyung purses his lips. “I don’t appreciate the judgmental tone, mister I want To Drink Soju In Every Country In The World!”

It’s Jimin’s turn to gasp, much more dramatically (definitely cuter) than Taehyung. He (rather forcefully) jabs a finger in Taehyung’s chest and the latter has to fight a smile again.

“I told you that in confidence,” Jimin says through clenched teeth. “Not for you to throw it in my face!”

Taehyung throws his hands up. “You wouldn’t even let me call my clown guy!”

“There is no clown guy!”

Taehyung’s mouth snaps closed with an audible clack.

“I know you, Taehyung! I know you’re just going to slap white paint on your face, pull out your party wig and your red nose and come out yelling the lyrics to Jungkook’s favorite song.” He started out sounding completely done with Taehyung but by the end of his sentence he’s giggling so hard, he’s having trouble speaking at all. Taehyung watches him; doubled over and clinging to Taehyung’s arm and he feels that now familiar tug. He’s pretty good at pretending he doesn’t, though, so he laughs along, delighting in the actual squeaks Jimin lets out.

Being with Jimin feels like his tummy is an oven that is always on; constantly baking more and more reasons to love him.

“I would sound amazing singing some Justin Bieber.” That only makes Jimin laugh harder. “I’m sure Kook would love it,” Taehyung finishes with a slight pout.

Jimin pouts back, looking up at him with stars dancing in his eyes.

They’re standing close, so close but Taehyung has learned to pretend he doesn’t love that too.

“Not as much as you would, I’m sure.”

Taehyung huffs. “This is a completely selfless act and I take offense to your tone, actually,” Jimin is still smiling at him indulgently. “An act of service to enlighten your boring party.”

Jimin’s smile slips off his face and he takes a step back.

Taehyung is relieved, he tells himself.

“Don’t come then if it’s so boring.”

“Maybe I won’t.”

“Fine! Don’t co- oh, wait,” he drops the act as swiftly as he picked it up. “No, you have to be there.”

“Can’t have fun without me, huh? I knew it.”

“Please,” Jimin rolls his eyes, “one drink and you’ll start waxing poetics about Namjoon or Hobi and then you’ll pass out.”

“Hey!”

Jimin completely disregards his indignation. It’s not his fault he’s alcohol intolerant. And for the record, Namjoon and Hoseok wax poetics about him, too!

Jimin’s next words bring Taehyung crashing back to the now. “Yoongi has been hounding my ass about meeting Hyungsik.”

Taehyung frowns. “Why would Yoongi hound your ass about meeting my boyfriend?”

Jimin fixes him with a stare. “Seriously?” he asks. Taehyung just waits for him to elaborate. Jimin rolls his eyes. “Gee, I wonder why your ex-boyfriend would feel weird about asking you to meet your new boyfriend,” Jimin brings his index finger to tap against his chin. “Boyfriend that you have kept a secret for the better part of the summer,” he adds quirking an eyebrow at Taehyung who suddenly find his toenails fascinating.

“Yoongi is not my ex-boyfriend,” he mumbles.

Jimin sighs and sits back on the couch, again , face slightly turned away from Taehyung. “You’ve slept with him exclusively for two months, went on dates, held hands . You told me you loved him. If that’s not the textbook definition of boyfriend, it needs to be updated,” he says with a dry chuckle.

Well. When he puts it like that.

“It’s in the past,” Taehyung says.

“Well, duh! Still, you can understand why that’s a … delicate subject to broach.”

“It hardly needs to be discussed at all.” Words are suddenly harder to get out, his throat dry and his heart beating too fast.

He hopes Jimin doesn’t notice.

“I don’t understand what’s the big deal,” he adds.

Jimin starts fidgeting with the art supplies on the coffee table. Next to them, there’s half finished sign they were working on before their lunch break, before this conversation, that reads HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY BUN.

It needs more stickers, Taehyung thinks distractedly.

“Yoongi was your last boyfriend and that was over two years ago. It is kind of a big deal.”

As usual when Hyungsik is brought up in Jimin’s presence, anxiety churns at Taehyung stomach and the more they talk about him, the harder it is for Taehyung to deal with it.

The thing is, he likes Hyungsik. He really does. He’s older, charming, fun, kind, handsome and he seems to be enamored with Taehyung.  Taehyung could maybe fall in love with him even. He has certainly fallen in like and lust with him. But Taehyung can’t hide the truth from himself; he knows that Hyungsik is a means to an end, a way to force himself to move on from the notion that Jimin could love him romantically. Once he and Hyungsik are settled in their house with their dog and his heart is safely guarded he can tell Jimin the truth about their unfulfilled bond, show Jimin his soulmark, explain what he’s been for Taehyung since he was six years old.

(Most days, it’s easy to ignore the nagging thought of the unfulfilled bond because being with Jimin comes with so much goodness, so much life, so much fun, so much ease… Taehyung can just be with Jimin and not think about what fate wants. It’s just his luck that those are the very reasons why he’s fallen in love with Jimin, which leads him to wonder how much stronger that feeling might grow with a fulfilled Bond, which leads to him feeling awful for thinking about it and he’s back to square one. It was a tiring cycle.)

Soulmates don’t have to to be romantic life partners. For a lot of people it means companionship, friendship or family. They still spend their lives together, still complete each other, even if they aren’t romantically involved. There are as many types of Bonds as there are shades of love.

Jimin doesn’t want a soulmate because he wants the choice to fall in love with whomever he wants. Taehyung can’t come clean about the soulbond if he can’t be the soulmate Jimin deserves.

Part of the problem is that Taehyung’s already spent two years as deeply in love as it’s possible to be while his heart still beats in his chest.  He didn’t mean for it to happen, but it has, and he has to fix it so he can stop lying to Jimin about the state of his heart.

And to do that, all Taehyung needs to do is convince his heart that being best friends forever is the best option for everyone involved, itself included.

As far as situations go, this is as sticky as it gets.

Hyunsik is someone who comes with no strings attached, someone who just wants him to be happy and be a part of that happiness. Taehyung has even told Hyungsik about the unfulfilled soulbond, that he was trying to get over someone, and that they’d have to go slow. Hyungsik agreed. He was getting over a rather complicated breakup too. Slow worked for him just fine.

And if Taehyung can fall in love with him maybe he’ll be able to move past his feelings for Jimin and finally come clean.

Still.

Sticky.

Sometimes Taehyung thinks things would have been a lot easier if he just let Jimin believe Taehyung hated him.

Taehyung hates liars, however.

“I know most people wouldn’t want to have past and present mingle, but this is Yoongi hyung,” Jimin pulls him out of his thoughts. “He’s softer than even you sometimes.”

That pulls a smile out of Taehyung, as frail as it may be. He takes a few steps forward and slumps down next to Jimin. They sit with their thighs pressed together and Taehyung knows that unfulfilled Bonds are nothing like the real thing; he’s read all the testimonies. But he also knows that something in him settled when he met Jimin. Something that’s been restless and hungry suddenly found peace.

He presses closer and Jimin wraps an arm around his shoulders before pulling the crown of Taehyung’s head to his lips.

There’s nothing quite like being loved by your soulmate, no matter what shade of love it is.Taehyung can’t help but think that statement is realer because Jimin is his soulmate. There’s something quite remarkable and wonderful about being loved by this boy.

Maybe because Jimin himself is remarkable and wonderful.

“Half of the campus is terrified of Yoongi-hyung,” Taehyung points out, head settled on Jimin’s chest. He sighs internally as he listens to Jimin’s voice vibrate against his hear, mingling with the sound of his heartbeat.

“They’re all fools,” Jimin drawls.

Taehyung is a fool, too, then because the idea of introducing Hyungsik to Yoongi is more than a little scary. Yoongi knows all of Taehyung secrets, all of their shades. Yoongi knows what Taehyung has yearned for, knows what he still yearns for.

Taehyung can’t help but think that Yoongi will see right through his efforts and make everything crumple down with just one glance.

He sighs deeply and Jimin pulls him closer.

“It’s going to be alright, Taetae. I promise.”

Taehyung wishes he could believe that.

“It would go a lot easier with a monkey,” he says just to hear Jimin laugh.

That’s enough for now.

September 1 st 2017

Jimin is twenty-one, ten months and nineteen days old.

“I just think it’s for the best,” Daniel says on the phone.

Jimin nods even though Daniel can’t see him. He doesn’t think he could speak right now even if he wanted to. “It hasn’t been working for a while now,” Daniel continues and he sounds so… weary. Worn out. Jimin feels a pulse of guilt so heavy travel through him; it makes him curl in on himself. “You chose… your friends over our first year anniversary.” He said friends but they both know who he really meant.

Jimin could try to defend himself (after all, it is Jungkook’s birthday, one of the few occasions where he and his best friends can still all see each other and he did invite Daniel to the party) but it would come out sounding hollow. Weak. There’s a small voice in the back of his head that whispers, ‘ You didn’t want to celebrate anyway. The party was just an excuse.’

The voice isn’t wrong. You don’t want to celebrate a relationship that you planned on ending soon.

It hasn’t been working out for a while now .

“I’m sorry,” he eventually says. It comes out wet and broken.

Daniel sighs. “Me too.”

And then he hangs up. He doesn’t even offer to stay friends like most people do when they break up with someone. He understands; he wouldn’t want to stay friends with Jimin either.

Jimin is left with the dial tone and guilt crushing his ribcage

He drops the phone on the carpeted floor and curls further into himself. He buries his nose in his knees and lets himself cry, sobs muffled and tears soaking up his jeans.

He’s hiding in Seokjin’s bedroom. Outside he can hear the loud noises of the party and the last thing he wants its to be here. Ironic since his presence is the reason why he’s crying right now. But he has to pull it together before people start looking for him. It’s been almost twenty minutes since he received the call. Twenty minutes that seemed to last about a century. It’s a peculiar kind of torture to get your heart ripped to shreds while intense relief courses through you. The thought sends a fresh wave of tears rolling down his cheeks.

He feels so guilty, God!

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. He never meant for any of this to happen. Jimin didn’t even want to be in a relationship to begin with. But then.

Then.

Then Taehyung happened and things sort of snow balled out of his control. Rather fast, too.

“Jiiiimiiiiiin,” Seokjin suddenly bangs on the door, startling him. He sounds properly sloshed. Jimin panics and quickly crawls to the nightstand to grab the box of tissue there. He whips out a couple and quickly wipes his face before swallowing hard. He sniffles, takes a deep breath and looks at the door; afraid it might fly open and catch him in the act of recovering from a small breakdown.

It doesn’t. Seokjin just keeps banging on the door irregularly and whining loudly.

“Coming,” Jimin finally calls, his bottom lip quivering. Frustrated with himself, he purses his lips and curses inwardly.

“Quickly! Caaaaaaaaake!” is all Seokjin says before Jimin hears him stomping down the hallway.

Jimin stays in the room for a bit longer, just long enough to regain his composure. On his way back to the party, he quickly ducks in the bathroom to drink a tall glass of water and splash some more on his face. He looks in the mirror at his red, hollow eyes and he knows he won’t be able to fool them. Especially not Taehyung.

Jimin could slip away quietly and send a text once he’s home apologizing and promising to make it up to Jungkook but he already disappointed someone tonight; he can’t find it in himself to do it again.

It hasn’t been working out for a while now.

The words just won’t stop echoing inside his skull and every time he hears them a fresh new wave of guilt swallows him whole.

He didn’t even try to fight for Daniel. Should he have? Would it have changed anything? Did Daniel want Jimin to fight for him?

Jimin takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and focuses on finding that quiet place inside of him. The place where nothing bad (not even his own foolishness) can touch him. A place where the moon and the stars shine like bright diamonds. A place that smells like ink and paper, and that is always warm. Tonight, it takes longer than usual to reach it and when he eventually does, the place seems dimmer, smaller.

Jimin sighs and opens his eyes to look at his reflection.

Yup, still a coward.

Nothing can be done about that tonight, though.

It takes every bit of his willpower to rejoin the party. Although, the word party might a bit strong. There’s music but no dancing. There’s alcohol but Seokjin was in charge of it so it’s a lot of whine and a variation of pink cocktails. Some beers too, of course but Jimin knows Seokjin’s cocktails are what the people really came for. There are more people than this apartment is used to hosting but not by much. Jungkook doesn’t know a lot of people and big crowds make Yoongi uncomfortable.

It’s a party but it’s not what most twenty year olds are used to. Maybe because half the people here aren’t in university anymore.

Jungkook’s birthday is more of an excuse to eat lots of food, drink a little and spoil him. Well, spoil him more than usual. That’s true for almost all their birthdays, except Taehyung and Seokjin’s (and to a certain degree, Hoseok’s as well) who have a lot of friends.

There’s a tradition in place and although they’ve only known Jungkook for two years, he’s already adhered to it. More often than not, Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon, Taehyung, Jungkook and Jimin stay up late (generally at Seokjin’s place because his parents are even more loaded than Jimin’s and his place is huge), long after everyone has gone home, talking and laughing until they pass out where they are. The next morning, Yoongi and Seokjin will prepare a gargantuan breakfast and they’ll all shuffle to the kitchen (usually wearing borrowed pajamas from Seokjin. Yoongi is always the only one who remembers to pack a pair for himself and Hoseok) with horrible headaches, bed hair and then proceed to feed each other until everyone is a little brighter.

The warmth of those twelve hours spent with his friends generally stays with Jimin for the rest of the week.

It’s during Jungkook’s last birthday party that Jimin met Daniel. He appeared in the middle of the night and only realized he was at the wrong party when Jungkook was blowing out his candles.

Jimin was charmed by his sharp eyes and bemused smile. When Jimin smiled at him, Daniel smirked, interested and inviting. He was just a year younger, from Busan too and he was hot in the way shameless people are hot. He was a delightful and effective distraction from Taehyung kissing Hyungsik.

He was just different enough from Taehyung and that in itself shouldn’t have been an incentive and it yet it was.

At the time, it was enough.

It wasn’t enough for long, however.

When he finally rejoins the party, Jimin can hear Yoongi, Taehyung and Hoseok screaming through the birthday song while Jungkook grins that beautiful shy smile of his.

Jimin slithers up to Namjoon and when the other boy smiles down at him, Jimin lays his head on his shoulder. He feels too raw for smiles right now.

“Everything alright, Jimin-ah?”

He swallows harshly, fighting the renewed urge to cry. He shakes his head but says, “Don’t worry, hyung.” It’s weak but Namjoon knows Jimin well so he doesn’t push. Instead, he wraps his arm around him. Namjoon is, in Jimin’s opinion, the best man on Earth. His affections are given awkwardly but with so much care and so much desire to help that they’re Jimin’s favorites. So right now, even though his heart weighs a ton, he snuggles up deeper into him and just watches Taehyung smear cake on Jungkook’s nose. It sends Seokjin on a screaming fit of laughter that abruptly stops when Jungkook smears some cake on his nose, too.

From then it dissolved into a cake fight that no one, not even Jimin, escapes.

Later, when everyone goes home and Jimin’s closest friends have all wiped their faces clean of cake, Jimin gets cold. Jungkook wants to watch a movie and even though they’re all more than a little tipsy and tired, they decide to humor him. Before it starts Jimin goes back to Seokjin’s bedroom to borrow a hoodie from his closet. When he turns on the light, he stops in his tracks as he finds Taehyung sprawled on the bed, face slack with sleep.

Jimin quickly switches the lights off again and walks closer to the bed. The heavy curtains are pulled so Jimin walks carefully until his toes hit the edge of the nightstand. He switches on the bedside lamp and a soft, warm glow covers Taehyung’s sleeping form.

Jimin’s heart seizes.

Some days, most days, Jimin thinks that if Taehyung had been just a little less beautiful, if he had been the normal human kind of beautiful, Jimin wouldn’t find himself making foolish decisions all the time.

Taehyung is the kind of beautiful that is hard to wrap your head around. Jimin has spent the last three years looking at his face pretty much every day, studying it, staring at it, marveling at it and he still gets lost in his beauty. Sometimes he’ll see Taehyung after a couple of days and his breath will catch in his throat, as if he’s seeing Taehyung for the first time. More than once, he’s found himself thinking that Taehyung studying art was a ironic joke neatly delivered from the Universe. Like a wink God would give before chuckling quietly to himself.

In a past life, Taehyung was probably adulated by thousands of people for his face alone.

Yes, things would be easier if Taehyung wasn’t art in motion.

But Jimin knows that it’s not the truth. Jimin knows Taehyung’s face has very little to do with why he’s where he is now. He knows that if he had to put pen to paper and make a list of all the things that made Kim Taehyung the perfect person to and for Park Jimin, Jimin would run out of ink and paper long before he ran out of things to list.

It’s kind of funny now that he thinks about it; how the process of falling in love with Taehyung was so subtle and so long but how from day one, he could have filled notebooks upon notebooks about everything he liked about Taehyung.

Jimin sighs, his heavy heart slumping tiredly inside his chest.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Not at all.

Ever since he was little, Jimin had a plan. A plan he’s spent his entire life curating and sticking to. Love, its entanglements and complications, were never part of it. Sometimes, in passing, he’d daydream about a home with a loving partner, a couple of children, and a cat but he knew that was just the part of him that longed for comfort and stability. He had no immediate need for it, no actual desire to be in a relationship. The occasional hook ups were enough to sustain him.

Then one night, trying to escape a stuffy party, he saw Taehyung and every moment since has been a bullet point in the list of the reasons why relationships were the best.

It took awhile for him to realize what the warmth blooming in his chest every time he saw Taehyung smile was. By the time he did, Taehyung was in a relationship so Jimin decided to fight fire with fire and try his hand at a relationship as well. See if maybe it wasn’t Taehyung he wanted, but the thought of him, the idea of building something important with someone. After all, it was watching Taehyung with Hyungsik that made him see what he was missing.

Obviously, the experiment was a failure and he ended up hurting someone he cared about in the process.

Jimin sighs again and sits on the bed gingerly, eyes on Taehyung’s squished cheek. He pokes at it and smiles sadly. Taehyung is such a deep sleeper; he has four alarms in his bedroom just to ensure that he can hear at least one of them. When Jimin spends the night there, Taehyung makes Jimin get up to switch them off and then he begs Jimin to come back to bed so they can cuddle.

“That’s the best way to wake up, Jimin-ah,” he’d say against Jimin’s neck.

Jimin doesn’t understand how it took him so long to realize he was in love when even these little moments always felt so big.

Taehyung stirs and Jimin’s finger ends up in one of his nostrils. He laughs and wipes the finger on Taehyung’s shirt.

“Stop poking me and come lie down,” he says without opening his eyes.

“Kookie put a movie on.”

“I am not in the mood for zombies and Hoseok’s subsequent shrieking,” Taehyung peels his eyes open. “Come cuddle and tell me why you’ve been looking like someone stole your beanie collection.”

Jimin hesitates, nibbling on his bottom lip. Telling Taehyung about the breakup will not only make it real, it feels a little disrespectful to his relationship with Daniel.

“Or you could just lay down here with me and not talk about anything at all,” Taehyung says reassuringly and Jimin realizes, not for the first time, that he’ll never love anyone like he loves Taehyung.

“Can I be the big spoon?” Jimin asks, voice scratchy.

Taehyung doesn’t say anything, just turns around, offering his back and plenty of space for Jimin.

Jimin fights a new onslaught of tears and slides up to him, wrapping his arm and leg around Taehyung. He hears him sigh contently so he buries his nose at the nape of Taehyung’s neck and closes his eyes.

Tomorrow, at breakfast he’ll tell everyone the news and then he’ll go back to focusing on his plan.

He’ll do better next time, he vows.

September 1 st 2018

Taehyung is twenty-two years, eight months and two days old.

It’s raining today.

It’s one of those summer showers that comes with a sigh a relief. Taehyung looks around himself and sees life. So much life. The colors seem more vivid today, the raindrops are warm and refreshing at the same time and he can hear people laughing as they hurry to find shelter.

Taehyung takes a deep breath, fills up his lungs with the potent smell of summer rain and refocuses on his mother’s voice.

“Her name’s Sana Rahimi,” she’s saying, her voice the kind of frail that comes with suppressed joy. “She’s from Syria.”

Taehyung chuckles softly while feeling oddly small. “That must have been a stilted phone call,” he jokes.

His mother huffs a laugh. “Actually, she speaks Korean fluently. She says she’s always wanted to learn it, that for some reason, she was always drawn to it,” she replies, awed. “Sana learned it as a teenager and then she realized she loved learning languages so much that she made it her life. She’s an interpreter for the U.N,” she sounds so proud that Taehyung’s heart seizes. “She speaks ten languages and she’s currently learning ancient greek. But she says she’s very happy that she has a chance to practice Korean more often now.”

“That good old soulmate incentive,” Taehyung says and hears his mother inhale suddenly at the S word.

“God!” she says, sounding… floored. Taehyung feels tears sting at his eyes.

“How’s Dad?” he can’t help but ask.

There’s a pause and then a sigh on the other end of the line.

“He’s adjusting… It’s a lot to take in.” Taehyung nods. Yeah, your spouse –slash- love of your life getting a phone call from their soulmate at fifty-six can be a lot to deal with. “He’s happy for me,” she adds, seemingly overwhelmed by her own words; as if realizing all over again how amazing her husband is.

“He loves you the most,” Taehyung whispers as a tear slips down his cheek and mingles with raindrops.

He can’t even wipe it away.

“Don’t worry, Honey Bear. Everything will be alright.” He knows that.

He knows that.

He’s just overwhelmed and exhausted all at once. He feels like he’s been carrying rocks on his heart for years. Every day, more rocks are added to the pile and he doesn’t understand how his heart hasn’t caved in yet.

There’s a whirlwind of emotions wreaking havoc in his chest and he doesn’t know which is the least selfish one. Probably the happiness warming him from the inside out. Maybe the relief, too. Although, who exactly he’s more relieved for remains to be determined. (He is relieved for his mother and her soulmate but he can’t deny the fact that he’s relieved for himself, too. There's renewed hope piercing through the clouds over his soul like the sun after a long storm.) The bitterness and resentment are too ugly, too harsh for him to even touch. They’re there though, clawing at his chest hungrily, demanding to be fed. The worry is only natural and expected, he rationalize. Change always comes with an assorted dose of fear.

He sighs and wishes, not for the first time, that the whole soulmate business could come with less expectation.

Harder to be disappointed that way.

He focuses on the happiness he feels and comes back to his mom. “I know, Mom.”

“Your father is my light. I’m happy and relieved that Sana got her mark, it’s true. There are so many question I finally get to answer now. But that won’t change my heart,” Taehyung can hear his mother’s smile through the phone so clearly, he can almost see it, too. “Your father is my heart.”

Taehyung smiles through another wave of tears.

He hears the door open a feet away from him. He looks up watching students leave the science building, searching through them to find an all too familiar face. He sees Jimin’s blond hair first, bobbing up and down as he waves his way through the small crowd. Then the person in front of him veers left.

Taehyung’s heart skips a beat. Or maybe two.

Taehyung sees so much life.

Tig, tug, tug.

When Jimin spots him, a smile breaks over his face like the sun over the horizon. Taehyung thinks that it’s unbelievable how many times someone can fall with someone else.

He feels another rock added to the pile so he focuses on Jimin’s smile to distract himself from the literal weight of his love. He watches him get closer, his eyes going to the black leather bag slung over his shoulder. It was a gift from Namjoon and Jimin loves it so much he never goes anywhere without it. It has long tassels across the pouch and its strap is so long that the bag knocks against Jimin's knees as he walks. Taehyung has spent many library rendezvous playing with the tassels while Jimin studied.

There are so many memories, real ones, attached to just the thought of Jimin. Taehyung wouldn’t know how untangle himself from him, even if he wanted to.

Jimin is finally close enough to get a good look at Taehyung’s face, at the tears on there and his probably red eyes. His expression darkens and he hurries over.

Silently, Taehyung extends the frappuccino he bought him. His best friend (Taehyung has stopped calling him the S word a long time ago) ignores the gesture and comes close enough that the tassels of his bag brush Taehyung’s bare knees.

Gently, frown maring his features, Jimin wipes Taehyung’s tears away.

Taehyung shudders and focuses on his mother again.

“You’re his heart, too, Mom.”

“I know. This is a good thing.”

“I’m really happy for you, Mom.”

“Thank you, Honey Bear. I couldn’t wait to share the news with you.”

At her words, happiness swiftly overpowers the rest of the conflicting emotions inside Taehyung.

“I’m glad you did. I have to go. Jimin just got here and it’s raining.”

There’s a slight pause from her end of the line; the same pause that always follows the mention of Jimin.

“How’s the best boy in the world?” she asks, chirpy and too loud. Jimin must hear her because he beams.

“I’m doing great, Mrs Kim. How’s the most charming woman on Earth?” he asks and Taehyung would object to that rather gross sentiment but Jimin got to his tiptoes in order to shout at the phone and then put his mouth close to the mouthpiece.

Close to Taehyung’s mouth. Jimin’s lips brush one of its corners.

Taehyung goes up in flames as the sound of his mother’s laughter rings down the line.

“I’m doing well, kid,” she says and Taehyung tilts the phone so that Jimin can speak directly into it.

“That’s the best news I’ve gotten today.”

“You’re shameless!”

“It’s called being charming. You should know, you invented it.”

“I’m going to smash my phone repeatedly on my face if this torture doesn’t stop,” Taehyung interjects and both his mother and Jimin burst out laughing.

“Okay, okay. Be good, do good. Be smart,” his mother reminds.

“Always,” they chorus. “Say hi to Sana for me,” Taehyung rushes to add.

“Thank you, sweetheart. I will. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

The line clicks shut and Taehyung stands under the rain with his unbonded soulmate so close to him, his cologne is mixing with Taehyung’s.

They’re standing close enough that Taehyung can see Jimin’s sun freckles even under the thin layer of foundation he put on this morning. He loves summer because of these freckles.

The smile has dropped from Jimin’s face now that he’s no longer talking with Taehyung’s mom. He looks at Taehyung worryingly before wiping his cheeks again. A useless move since they’re mostly wet from raindrops and it doesn’t look like the sky is about to let up. He’s so careful about it though and his hands are so soft that Taehyung can’t bring himself to ask him to stop. Instead, he leans into the touch, stepping even closer to him.

Jimin licks his lips and looks up into Taehyung’s eyes.

“What happened?”

Taehyung shakes his head and smiles down at him reassuringly. “Mom’s soulmate got her mark. She called her yesterday.”

Jimin’s eyes widen. “She… called?”

“Yeah, I know. So weird. She got her mark and then Mom’s name echoed in her head. Sana –her soulmate – did some research. It took her a couple of weeks to locate Mom but she did last night.”

Jimin stares at him long and hard and Taehyung makes himself remain stoic. Not hope. Hope for the magical click, hope for a new direction for this conversation, not the one he knows it will go. Hope for more.

Then Jimin blinks rapidly and clears his throat. “That’s amazing.”

“Yeah.”

Jimin frowns slightly. “Why were you crying?”

Well, Jimin, I was worried for my dad but that’s not the only reason why. You see, I have this incredible soulmate, a person who my stupid, useless heart decided to love every way it was possible to love someone. But even though we met four years ago, he still did get his own mark and he’s not in love with me either. So, while my mom completing her Bond after decades of waiting is amazing, I’m just scared because I don’t know if I can bear decades of waiting. At least Mom had the advantage of not having met her soulmate, of not befriending her. What if your mark never appears? What if I have to lie to you for the rest of our lives? What if I can’t stop being in love with you? I was in a relationship for two years and although I loved him a lot, he never came close to what you mean to me. I’m scared because loving you always came with this pain and I’m not sure how much longer I can keep up the charade. I’m scared because I’m not sure I’m strong enough to keep bearing the hurt.

I’m scared and I’m weak and I kind of hate the moon, now.

You used to be this inexhaustible source of hope for me but being near you is like a pipeline that’s been draining me.

I’m scared and I love you so much I can barely stand it. Can barely think beyond you.

Taehyung swallows and shrugs. “I was upset for my father,” is what he says.

Jimin nods. He knows about his parents’ situation. They’ve talked about it every time Jimin came with him to visit his family in Daegu.

“How is he?” Jimin asks, eyes lidded with concern. One of his hands is resting over Taehyung’s tummy, right where the little pouch is. His thumb is rubbing comforting circles over Taehyung’s navel. The feeling of the soft, silky material caressing his skin and the warmth of Jimin’s hand send a cascade of shivers down Taehyung’s spine.

Jimin is so good at comfort.

“He’s happy for her. But,” Taehyung doesn’t need to continue his sentence; Jimin can fill up the blanks on his own.

He scrunches his nose. “Yeah. The whole soulmate thing is so fucked up,” Jimin’s lips are pursed and every word passing them is like a rusted arrow to Taehyung’s heart.

He’s a fool for still letting these things hurt him,. He knew how this conversation would end even before it started. It’s not the first time Jimin makes his sentiment regarding their situation known.

The irony is that he would hate himself if he knew what he was doing.

“I don’t know. It’s just another challenge. My parents have faced harder things,” Taehyung says with a smile that must look as painful as it feels.

Jimin nods before offering a small smile in return. He leans sideways until he can latch his mouth on the straw of the frappuccino that Taehyung is still holding.

“Hm, this is delicious.”

Taehyung is glad for the reprieve.

“I’m not carrying it for you.”

Jimin pouts.

Taehyung hates him.

“Please?”

“Fuck off,” he says with a laugh and thrusts the cup to his chest.

Jimin curls his hand around Taehyung’s and leans down, keeping eye contact as he sucks on the straw.

“You really think this is going to work on me?”

Jimin swallows before smirking at him. “One day,” he sighs and curls his free fist in promise. “One day, I’ll catch you unaware.”

“Does your self esteem really rely on the number of boners you can inspire?”

“Not my self esteem, no. My happiness? To a certain degree, yes.”

“I’m not sure I want to keep being associated with you.”

“Too late,” Jimin says grabbing the frappucino and linking his other arm with Taehyung. “You’re stuck with me forever.”

“The horror,” Taehyung says quietly, smiling at him. Jimin smiles back and starts chattering about his day.

As they walk back to Jimin’s apartment, the rain finally let’s up and the sun peaks from under the clouds. Jimin looks so beautiful under it that Taehyung foolishly thinks he wouldn’t want it any other way.

September 1 st 2019

Jimin is twenty-three, ten months and nineteen days old.

Dear Jimin,

Hey big bro! How are you? I hope the residency is going well! Mum and Dad can’t shut about how proud they are of you. I’m proud of you, too.

Receiving this email might be strange but trust me; it feels even weirder writing it. I’ve thought about how to tell you this for the past month and the more I thought about it, the more impossible it seemed. I almost booked a train ticket to Seoul to tell you in person but I chickened out at the last minute. A phone call would have been… too cowardly. A letter too formal. A text too tacky. Can you imagine? Hey big bro, guess what? I finally got my Mark! Love you, bye.

Oh. Crap. There it is. I said it. So…. Yeah, I got my soulmark six weeks ago. Met my soulmate the next day. It was surreal because apparently they got theirs at exactly the same moment. Their name is Hanseul and they come from Gwangju. They’re pretty intense, but the kind of intense that reminds me of you. They’ve been very kind to me so far. I like them a lot. We started dating two weeks ago and so far it’s been…. Well, kinda boring to be honest. Anti-climatic, I guess but also amazing???? Really good. We just clicked so fast and it feels like I’ve known them all my life.

I guess that’s the whole point, huh?

I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to tell you. I begged Mom and Dad to keep quiet because I wanted to tell you myself. Well, I guess, I know why. You’ve always been…. pretty set against the idea. I get why, don’t get me wrong. I remember when we were kids; I never understood why you hated the idea so much. But growing up I started to see it your way, too. I guess a lot of people do. But I think the difference between the both of us is that I always hoped that fate was on my side. Not that it isn’t on yours. I see how happy you are in Seoul and I think maybe that’s fate’s work too. I’m happy for you.

Anyways, yeah, for a very long time, I agreed with you. Maybe that’s why I didn’t get my soulmark until now.

I really thought we’d be the first Park generation without a soulbond. Sorry to disappoint. But I hope you can be happy with and for me. I’ve attached a few pictures of Hanseul and me to this email. They’re really cute, aren’t they? I feel… safe with them.

Please be happy for me. For us.

I’ll visit soon, I promise.

Jihyun

P.S: Taehyung left his favorite sweater at our place this summer. I’ve mailed it last week; I hope it got there ok. Say hi to him for me. I miss him already.

September 1 st 2020

Taehyung is twenty-four years, eight months and two days old.

“This is the saddest birthday party ever,” Seokjin laments before blowing his nose loudly. Hoseok nods, motioning for him to pass more tissues. His own have soaked through a while ago.

“I don’t understand why you all insisted we do this on Kookie’s birthday,” Yoongi complains, his soft mouth turned down in a frown.

“I thought it would cancel out the other thing,” Namjoon groans.

“The other thing? You mean how Taehyung is totally ditching us to go live La Vie Boheme?” Jungkook asks.

“Hey!” Taehyung scowls. “I’m not ditching you! Who says I’m ditching you? Oh my god, do you plan on ditching me?”

“You’re the one leaving for an undetermined period of time to travel across the globe,” Seokjin throws his used tissue at Taehyung’s face.

“Fucking gross, hyung!”

“Yeah well you’re the gross one for leaving us all behind,” Seokjin shoots back before grabbing more tissues. Jungkook snatches the box from him and whips out a handful before smashing them to his face.

“Can you all not make this harder on me than it already is?” Taehyung asks with a pout.

“No,” comes the five voices reply.

Taehyung cuts his eyes to Jimin. He sitting on the floor, against Namjoon’s legs, arms crossed and hoodie pulled up.

The tear tracks on his cheeks are visible even in the poor lighting. He hasn’t said a word all night.

Taehyung’s heart is but a shadow of its former self.

“It’s for my job,” he reminds his friends, having a terrible time of it as well.

“Because Seoul doesn’t need photographers?” Hoseok asks with a huff.

Seoul does need photographers but Taehyung doesn’t want Seoul. He can’t be here anymore.

“I’ve always wanted to see the world.”

“You’re insinuating that the world has more to offer than we do and I don’t like it.” Seokjin says, his red nose making his attempt at humor even funnier.

“The world does, hyung,” Namjoon says.

Seokjin and Hoseok gasp.

“It kinda does,” Jungkook agrees.

“Yeah, we’re pretty boring.” Yoongi adds.

Jimin sniffles and pulls on the strings of his hoodie. He looks like the saddest egg ever.

“The world doesn’t hold a candle to you,” Taehyung says, his throat too tight. “But I really want to see it anyways.”

They look at him, eyes soft and sad. Taehyung wants to take them all with him.

“Tell me when you get to Italia. I’ll fly out and take you to my favorite restaurant,” Seokjin says, eyes glassy but lips stretched into a beautiful smile.

“I feel so poor, right now,” Jungkook frowns at Seokjin.

“I’ll take you with me, I promise,” Seokjin says throwing an arm around their maknae. Jungkook’s smile is a little sad but he snuggles closer to him.

“You’ll write?” Namjoon asks Taehyung. He looks so young tonight, vulnerable. Taehyung reaches out and pats him on the shoulder.

“All the time,” he promises

“Fuck letters!” Hoseok jumps in. “You better show me your face every day!”

“I’ll facetime you every night, Seoul time.”

“I guess you can go, then,” Hoseok sniffs.

“Can we please cut the cake now? I really can’t bear another minute of this,” Yoongi says and Jimin jumps to his feet, escaping to the kitchen. Jungkook follows soon after.

They watch them go before the hyungs turn their eyes to Taehyung.

Out of the four of them only Yoongi and Namjoon know that Jimin is Taehyung’s soulmate and that putting distance between them was on the pros rather the cons on the list reasons why he should accept the job. Yoongi knows because they bonded over it and Namjoon because he’s been Taehyung’s roommate for six years. The other two only know that Taehyung has been desperately in love with Jimin since he met him.

“I’m doing this for myself,” he says before any of them starts on him.

“I think this is a good thing, actually,” Namjoon says and Taehyung’s jaw drops.

“You do?”

Namjoon nods. The rest of them do too.

“You’ve been sad, Taehyungie,” Yoongi has a way of saying things, even sad and important things, that always made Taehyung hope that things will get better. Straightforward but calm and comforting. Talking with Yoongi always helped because Yoongi’s brand of realistic optimism always elevated Taehyung.There’s something so inspiring about the way Yoongi looks at life that Taehyung’s always felt safe with him. If Yoongi says things will be okay, then they will. Even if they’re not right now, they will get better. “You’ve been sad for a long time. Seoul isn’t where you’ll find happiness,” Yoongi says.

“Not now,” Namjoon finishes.

Taehyung feels tears sting at his eyes and no matter how much he tries to blink them away, he can’t. He tried so hard to be happy here. He wanted so badly for this to work.

Hoseok gets to his feet and comes to sit on the arm of the loveseat Taehyung is sitting on. He wraps both arms around Taehyung and rests his head against the crown of Taehyung’s.

“It’s okay, Tae. This is a good thing. Sometimes, you just need to let go.”

Taehyung dissolves. He chokes on a sob and clings to Hoseok’s forearm.

“I’m so scared,” he whispers. Namjoon, Seokjin and Yoongi follow Hoseok’s lead; Yoongi comes to stand in front of them both and holds Taehyung’s hands. Seokjin sits on the floor, just to the side and lays his head on Taehyung’s lap. Namjoon shuffles closer to on Taehyung and curls his hand around Taehyung’s nape.

“The world needs a bit more of you. We’re happy to share you with it for a while,” Seokjin says. He tilts his headsideways and kisses Taehyung’s knee through his slacks. It makes Taehyung smile a little.

“You don’t have to carry so much with you. Go relieve your burden,” Yoongi says squeezing Taehyung’s hand and patting the side of his face.

“It’s okay to be scared, Taehyung-ah but I know you and I know how good you are. You’ll do amazingly, I have no doubt,” Namjoon says, ruffling his hair.

Taehyung didn’t know how much he needed to hear these words, all of them, until he feels them soothing him.

“I’m going to miss your dumb faces so much,” he wails.

“We’ll miss yours, too,” Hoseok says and smooches the top of his head.

This isn’t healing. Not yet but this is the first step toward it. Trust his hyungs to always push him in the right direction.

Jimin and Jungkook come back with the cake a moment later.

They stay up late, eating too much and taking about half a billion pictures. When Taehyung has to go back to his and Namjoon’s apartment they all stand in the middle of Seokjin’s living room, looking at each other for a long moment. The air is heavy with the kind of sadness that only comes with goodbyes.

Saying goodbye to someone you love shouldn’t be a part of anyone’s life, Taehyung decides as he watches Jungkook’s lips tremble.

“Don’t be a stranger,” Yoongi says voice rough. Taehyung shakes his head rapidly, as if that’ll help keep the tears at bay.

“Be safe, please,” Namjoon says.

“I will,” Taehyung promises.

Taehyung feels Jimin interlock their fingers and that’s the last straw. His face crumples with the force of his tears and Hoseok is the first to swoop in and wrap his arms around him. The rest of them follow and they all cling to each other for a long while.

“Ohana means nobody gets left behind,” Taehyung promises and Jungkook sobs at his words.

“God, you’re the worst,” Yoongi says but he buries his face deeper in Taehyung’s neck.

“Okay, okay, let him go,” Jimin says. And those are the first word he’s said all night. “We need to go, it’s super later already and we have to be up in a few hours only.” He steps back and quickly wipes at the small part of his face still visible in the hoodie.

Taehyung gives each of his friends one last hug. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t need to. He’s left each of them a letter under their pillows today. Taehyung is willing to bet they did the same for him.

“Have a safe flight, hyung,” Jungkook says.

“Thanks,” Taehyung says standing at the door threshold. “I promise I’ll be back soon,” he says taking one last good look at them. His friends. His family. Namjoon, his sanity. Yoongi, his savior. Hoseok, his vitality. Seokjin, his spitrit. Jungkook, his motivation. Jimin, his heart. The seven of them are pieces of the same puzzle.

He knows that by leaving he’s going to make the puzzle look incomplete but theirs is a puzzle that is ever changing and accommodating. Each piece free to evolve and grow and change. They’re all made to fit around each other, no matter what comes at them. The picture is still the same though.

They’re still home.

He smiles at them and points a shaking finger their way. “If anyone touches my Gucci slippers, I will sue you all.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “I’ve been dying to burn those ugly things since you bought them.”

“I. Will. Sue. You. Min. Meow Moew.”

Yoongi closes the door on his and Jimin’s faces.

“Love you,” he shouts through the door smiling.

“Love you, too,” the other five chorus from the other side.

Taehyung sighs but he follows as Jimin leads him to his car. It’s a silent ride. Taehyung watches the dark and neon light streets of Seoul for the last time and feels an ache so sharp at the back of his throat, he’s no sure if he’ll be able to board his plane in the morning.

When they get to Taehyung’s place, Jimin hurries to the showers and Taehyung goes to his bedroom.

Most of it remained the same. You don’t have to take much when you’re about to embark on a year long journey across the globe. He took some clothes but not much. A few books Jimin got him for the journey. His gear, of course. The leather bound picture album. The picture of the seven of them they took in Busan two years ago during spring break.

Not much. Just enough of home to keep him going.

He sits on the bed and looks around the room until his eyes land on his packed stuff by his wardrobe. He feels a cruel kind of deja vu and he can’t help but laugh a little.

“What’s so funny?” Jimin suddenly asks. He’s at the door, hair wet and cheeks red from the shower. He’s wearing a simple white tee shirt and the grey sweater pants he’s kept at Taehyung’s place for the past five years.

Taehyung looks at him and can’t help but remember the hundreds of times he’s seen him just like that. He shakes his head and looks down at his bare feet.

“I was just thinking about the last time I packed my bags, destination unknown.”

“Yeah? How was it?”

Taehyung looks back up at Jimin’s blank face and his red eyes. He feels like, maybe, life sucks.

“It had its moments,” he says voice tight.

Jimin nods. “I know,” he says twisting his mouth to the side in that way he does when he’s trying not to cry. Taehyung cannot watch him cry again. He can’t or he’ll cancel everything.

Stay.

Hurt.

“I’m gonna shower,” he says grabbing his pajamas from the back of his desk chair. On his way out, Jimin straightens to let him pass but all it does is bring them closer. Taehyung stops in his tracks, looking down at him. Jimin looks so vulnerable and small in that moment that Taehyung drops his clothes to the floor and cups his face with one hand. Jimin doesn’t freeze; instead his whole frame seems to be shaking. Like he’s holding on too tight and any pressure will make him shatter. Taehyung hates himself a little.

“Please, Jiminie. Don’t be sad.”

Jimin scoffs.

“What?” Taehyung asks. “Why have you been so quiet all evening?”

“Don’t ask me that,” Jimin replies closing his eyes and finally leaning into Taehyung’s touch.

“Why not?”

“Taehyung, please. Don’t.”

“Tell me, Jimin.”

Jimin opens his eyes. They’re wet. Taehyung feels like his heart is a pin cushion being stabbed with knives. Jimin scowls at Taehyung openly. “You’re leaving tomorrow for a year. I have the right to be sad.”

Taehyung pulls him closer and kisses his forehead.

“It’s going to go by so fast. I’ll be back before you have time to miss me.”

Jimin’s answering chuckle is dry. “I miss you already,” he says, putting his hands on Taehyung’s hips.

“Is this why you haven’t said a word tonight?”

Jimin shakes his head.

“Then why?” Taehyung asks again. He doesn’t know why he’s pushing so much. Maybe because he’s leaving tomorrow with so much left unsaid between them. Maybe if they can share one more little secret he can feel a bit better about not sharing the bigger ones. Maybe the idea of leaving an angry and sad Jimin behind is too much for him. Or maybe there’s an ugly, small part of him that wants them to fight so that leaving tomorrow will be easier.

Like finally giving the finger to Fate.

“Stop pushing,” Jimin says as if privy to Taehyung’s thoughts. He takes a step back but Taehyung follows, pushing him against the door frame.

“No. Tell me.” Jimin glares at him, jaw working hard, as if fighting the words. Taehyung leans down a little and whispers. “What are you scared of?”

Jimin’s eyes darken and his mouth falls open a little. Taehyung wants so badly to kiss the space between his lips, to lick the bow of his mouth, that it feels like a physical need; something visceral and hot in his guts.

“Don’t make me talk,” Jimin says and somehow it almost sounds like a threat; like the words might hurt Taehyung. He says it while licking his lips as though he knows what he’s doing to Taehyung.

“Tell me,” he repeats and Jimin inhales sharply. Taehyung realizes he’s been staring at his lips for too long. He drags his eyes back to Jimin’s and what he sees there makes his stomach clench.

Desire.

Jimin purses his lips, his eyes flying over Taehyung’s face as if gauging him, like he’s seeing him for the first time. They linger for a bit too long on his lips and liquid warmth pools in Taehyung’s lower belly.

Jimin squares his shoulders, and Taehyung has the distinct feeling they’re both about to jump off a cliff.

“If I’d opened my mouth tonight, it would have been to beg you to stay,” Jimin says and it’s almost mean. Like he wants to hurt Taehyung with his words, to make him back off.

Jimin must not know that Taehyung’s been dying to hear these exact words for so long now; he thinks he must be dreaming them up now.

Jimin straightens up, bringing his chest flush to Taehyung’s, his mouth close enough that Taehyung can smell the mint of his own toothpaste on Jimin’s breath. There’s challenge, loud and clear, in his eyes now. “If I opened my mouth, it would have been to say that the thought of spending an entire year without you has been slowly killing me for the past two months.” He lets his hands wander up to Taehyung’s ribs over his shirt and stares at Taehyung’s mouth like a starving man. “All I’ve wanted to say for the past week, hell! All I’ve wanted to say for years now is that I love you,” he says breathing harshly. Taehyung’s heart drops to his shoes. “All I wanted to hear is you saying those words back. So no, I’m not not going to be sad. I’m going to be fucking miserable.”

“Jimin,” Taehyung whispers pushing until Jimin’s back touches the wood of the door frame again.

Jimin lets his head drop against it, too and looks up at Taehyung through his eyelashes, with fire in his eyes. “I told you not to ask me,” he says, licking his lips.

“I’m glad I did,” Taehyung says urgently, cupping his face with both hands and bringing him close again. “Say it again,” Taehyung pleads.

“I said it already,” Jimin says circling his arms around Taehyung’s neck. “Your turn.”

Taehyung inhales, frenzied word clogging up his mouth, his throat, his lungs, his heart. There’s so much he wants to say. A lifetime worth of words and love bottled up inside of him, the lid about to burst with an explosion.

In the end he says, “You think I didn’t want to hear those words from you?”

“All evidence pointed to no,” Jimin answers flatly.

Taehyung almost laughs. It’s funny, if he thinks about it. Everything about him screams his love for Jimin and yet Jimin never took notice. It’s been a relief for a long time but now, he realizes how wrong he has been.

“God, Jimin. You’re the worst detective ever,” he says and swoops down to bite a kiss out of him. It’s quick but deep and not very graceful. Jimin strains up to follow his mouth when Taehyung leans back and that makes it the most beautiful kiss in history.

Jimin’s nostrils flare with annoyance. He squeezes Taehyung’s neck; more in demand than in comfort and Taehyung resists the tug.

“Wait, I thought you wanted me to say it back.”

Jimin freezes, his mouth just a few inches away from Taehyung’s.

“I do,” it’s barely a whisper, more like a breath. Barely words, just need.

Taehyung’s entire body softens; he almost slumps against Jimin, the relief at finally being able to say the words too strong, too much.

“I love you back,” he says. A promise and vow all at once.

“God,” Jimin lips tremble as he lets the word out, wind up and a little sad, too. He drops his head to Taehyung’s collarbone and inhales deeply. “Do you know how much I love the way you smell?” he asks. Taehyung’s eyes widen at the sudden non-sequitur. “You smell like fruit and honey. Everything about you smells sweet and inviting and warm. Your room, your clothes, your hair. Me! I smell like fruit and honey all the time now because you’re always all over me. It’s been fucking torture going to bed every night, after taking off clothes that smell like you and after a long shower that smell like you too because you’re there so much of the time, only to come to bed and find your smell on my fucking pillows, on my sheets. Do you know how hard it is to be in love with someone that smells like fruit and honey?” Jimin asks his lips brushing Taehyung skin.

Taehyung swallows.

“I suppose it feels a bit like going through the pictures I took that day to decide which one I’m going to develop only to find you in almost all of them. It must be like ending up with files upon files on my laptop of pictures I can’t develop but I can never bring myself to delete either. It must feel like that,” Taehyung says tipping Jimin’s chin up to look into his lovely brown eyes. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul and ever since he met Jimin, actually met him, all Taehyung has ever seen in Jimin’s eyes is home. “Like having the imprints of you everywhere, carrying you with me every day. Maybe it feels like even if I tried to move on, tried to convince my heart it made a mistake, it would take me a couple of lifetimes to manage it.”

He whispers the last words against Jimin’s mouth and punctuates them with a deep kiss.

Jimin immediately opens up for him, pliant and needy and demanding. He’s sweet, achingly so and Taehyung’s chest floods with affection, a sudden rush so overpowering that Taehyung feels like he’s carrying an entire galaxy inside of him. Moons upon moons, stars upon stars, light-years upon light-years of just Jimin. Affection so deep and vast, he feels like even he couldn’t explore all of it.

He goes slow and it’s not something he really has to think about. Maybe because he’s thought about it so much in the past, daydreamed about kissing Jimin breathless, feeling his lips against his own, his tongue in his mouth. So, maybe it’s just natural that he takes his time to savor every little sound Jimin makes, the way his lips fit against Taehyung’s, to find the rhythm that would work best for them. Maybe he doesn’t really need to think about it all, seeing how Jimin arches up to him and sucks on his tongue.

Maybe Taehyung’s mouth was made to kiss Jimin’s.

When Jimin pulls back, it’s with a garbled sound, breath ripped out of him, mouth slick and so red, it looks like a beacon. Taehyung can’t help but swoop down and take another taste.

“So this is what it feels like to kiss you,” Jimin pants. He sounds like it hurts just a little; the kind of pinch one might feel when something is too much to bear.

Taehyung buries his nose in his hair and inhales the scent of his own shampoo there.

“What does it feel like?”

“Don’t expect me to use words now,” he says and starts pushing at Taehyung’s shoulders until the back of his legs hit the edge of the bed. “All I know is that if kissing you feels like this, then being fucked by you must be transcendental.”

He gives another push to get Taehyung to sit down but it’s not necessary. Taehyung’s knees all but buckle at his words. Jimin quickly climbs on his lap to straddle him. He wraps his arms around Taehyung’s shoulders and, like this, he’s just a little above Taehyung. Enough for him to have to bend down to kiss him.

The thrill of watching him do just that makes Taehyung fists Jimin’s shirt.

He loses himself to Jimin’s mouth. Opens up for his tongue and drinks up Jimin’s moans. The way Jimin takes as much as he gives is heady and intoxicating. Jimin pushes and pushes but it’s only because he knows Taehyung can follow, can give, can push back. It’s as hot as it is comforting to be known and loved by Jimin. To be challenged and followed at the same time. Taehyung feels drunk and empty all at once. He can’t think straight and yet he knows with irrefutable clarity that he wants more.

Like always with Jimin, he needs more.

He pulls back after some time, feeling hazy, to focus on Jimin. He looks dizzy himself, his hair messy from Taehyung’s fingers and his cheeks flushed. Taehyung has never wanted to eat anything as badly as he wants to eat Jimin right now.

He may be drooling a little.

“How is it fair that you’re the hottest person on earth?” He says and he reckons that now that the dam is open, there’s no way he’ll be able to keep these thoughts to himself. As far as Taehyung is concerned, Jimin gave him a free pass to say every illicit thought he’s ever had about him.

He’s got about a lifetime (maybe a few more) of those in store and he plans to catch up.

“Don’t ask me! I’ve been looking at you for years and you've yet to make sense to me,” he grouches, sounding so exasperated that Taehyung snorts. “For the past six years I’ve had to be best friends with what God probably thought was a good joke,” Jimin retorts and leans down for another kiss.

Taehyung pulls away after a moment. “Did you just call me a joke?”

“Easier than telling you that looking at your face is a constant agony. How do you have that face?” Taehyung giggles. Jimin scowls. “I’m serious! How is that a face?”

Taehyung lets his head thump against Jimin’s shoulder, his frame shaking with laughter.

“It’s just my face.”

“It’s not just a face. It’s… awful how pretty you are, Taehyung,” he says kissing the top of Taehyung’s ear.

This is not news to Taehyung. Jimin is the kind of person who has no qualms about telling his friends how attractive they are. Taehyung has heard Jimin complimenting him more time than he can count and it was always such a high but this. This is different. Jimin is on his lap, all over him after confessing his love for him and his mouth taste of Taehyung.

This is new territory.

Taehyung looks up at Jimin’s soft tone, feeling heat creep up his cheeks. He looks at Jimin’s eyes, sparkling and warm and… so good; he feels love in its purest form shoot through his chest. The thing about Jimin’s eyes is that Taehyung knows them. The very first dream he had about Jimin was about them. He grew up with Jimin’s eyes, they’ve been a sort of solace, a safe haven, a beacon of hope. And then he met Jimin and he realized that no matter how powerful Fate could be, it could never provide what reality did.

The first time Taehyung thought to himself ‘ oh shit, I’m in love with him ’ it was while watching Jimin’s eyes disappear into a smile and then open up again to grab Taehyung’s hand and whisper something ridiculous that only sent him into another fit of laughter. Taehyung watched his eyes sparkle with life and he knew he was doomed.

It’s not just that Jimin’s eyes are beautiful (which they are), it’s that they’ve always looked at Taehyung with tenderness. From the moment they saw each other for the first time; Jimin’s eyes have always accepted Taehyung. All of him.

Like they knew each other from before and Taehyung wasn’t new to Jimin.

But then again, that’s the whole point of soulmates.

Jimin cups his face, thumb rubbing tenderly over his cheek. “The prettiest,” he says, now staring at Taehyung’s mouth. “My pretty baby,” he whispers before bringing Taehyung’s mouth to his.

Taehyung wraps his arms around Jimin’s waist and, with a swift move, rolls them over until Jimin is under him with his legs still wrapped around Taehyung’s waist.

He blinks up at Taehyung, eyes round. “That’s a neat trick,” he breathes.

“You can stop calling me noodle, now,” Taehyung says before gently biting his earlobe.

“Never,” Jimin vows and rocks his hips up.

Taehyung freezes and feels stupid for it. It’s not like he couldn’t feel Jimin’s hard dick against his own before this moment. And it’s not like there was any doubt about where this was going. Jimin did explicitly say he wanted Taehyung to fuck him and, at this very moment in his life, Taehyung would rather die than not oblige.

But there’s a difference between wanting to fuck someone, and feeling the physical evidence that your soulmate is aroused and wants you to do something about it.

A big difference. About six inches big.

“I’m not a noodle,” he protests weakly. He sounds so nervous he wants to die a little.

Jimin’s eyes soften and he smiles up at him. That big, beautiful smile that makes his eyes disappear and infuses other people with unadulterated joy.

“No, babe. Not a noodle,” he says and punctuates his sentence with another roll of his hips. “Not a noodle at all,” he waggles his eyebrows and, God! Taehyung loves him so much.

He kisses him again, deep and slow, until his toes are curling and his belly is warm. Jimin kisses back, tender and attentive and so shamelessly needy that Taehyung’s dick all but begs for attention.

Taehyung pulls back, breathing erratically. “I… Condom! Yes, that’s what we need. A condom. Or maybe two? How are you feeling about that? I mean it’s super late and I know neither of us drank tonight but we did cry a fair amount and that counts, right? So maybe one is enough? We need lube, too, obviously. I mean my dick isn’t twelve inches long but it’s still a dick and your ass is just a small hole and arghmmppfff,” his rambling comes to an end when Jimin slaps a hand over his mouth.

“Tae, breathe!” He orders and Taehyung does, only now realizing his lungs were emptying fast. “Good. Now. Yes, we’re going to need one condom seeing as it’s almost 3 A.M and we have to be up and about in less than four hours. One time feels like the sensible thing,” Jimin says calmly. The mention of Taehyung’s departure makes his shoulders tense a little. Taehyung can feel his heartbeat picking up under his palm. He leans down and kisses him softly. “Thank you for that,” Jimin says when Taehyung pulls away. He leans up to give a soft kiss back. “Your condom and lube are where they always are, under your pillow,” he adds, brandishing the items.

“How do you -,” Taehyung starts but Jimin rolls his eyes.

“I know you,” Jimin says simply.

And it is simple. Jimin knows Taehyung. Taehyung knows Jimin. The good, the bad, the sweet, the hard, the ups, the downs and the diagonals. They know each other and love every layer of each other.

It’s simple and it makes Taehyung breathe a little easier.

“I love you,” he says because he said it only once tonight and that feels ridiculous when his heart has been chanting the words for what seems like forever.

“Hm. Prove it,” Jimin smirks and rolls his hips again.

“God, that’s absolutely awful!” Taehyung says with a sigh that sends Jimin into a fit of giggles. He uses the distraction to pull down Jimin’s joggers and boxers in one go. When he discards them, Jimin isn’t laughing anymore. “Take off you shirt,” Taehyung says with a calm he isn’t feeling. His limbs are tingling.

Jimin quirks an eyebrow and sits up. He makes a show of it, because of course he would. He keeps his eyes on Taehyung as he drags the material over his chest and head, and then rakes his fingers over his hair. His eyes are half lidded, his cheeks are red and his mouth is startlingly pink.

He looks like art. Well curated and preserved art. A masterpiece, really.

“Your turn,” he says and Taehyung is lot less dramatic about it, definitely more efficient. He has his shirt and shorts off in a matter of seconds.

Jimin stares at him for a long while before he huffs.

“You know, I have seen the imprint of your dick enough time to know that you go commando regularly, but this…. This is too much for me. I’d like you to leave, now,” Jimin says.

“I am naked,” Taehyung suppresses a grin.

“Well, maybe next time, wear boxers so that my ass doesn’t clench so hard watching you disrobe,” Jimin glares.

Taehyung tilts his head and crosses his arms.

“I have P.B.B.S, Jimin. Do you know what P.B.B.S is? Perpetual Blue Balls Syndrome. Do you know what caused it? Your insistence on wearing skinny jeans while also having that ass and those thighs.” Jimin sort of loses it and flings himself backwards, laughing with glee. It’s truly a remarkable sight to behold, a naked Park Jimin curled on his bed and laughing with abandon. Taehyung’s heart throbs painfully in his chest. He tries not to think about the fact that he’s leaving tomorrow, leaving him tomorrow, but it’s there. He can’t not think about it, not when this is all happening because he is leaving. He shakes his head and smiles at Jimin who looks at him with so much fondness, Taehyung can actually feel it inside his chest. “Do you know how long I’ve been suffering from P.B.B.S? Six whole years? They’re not blue anymore, Jimin, they’ve turned black.”

“You had a boyfriend for two years,” Jimin stops laughing long enough to remind him of that.

“That didn’t make me blind,” Taehyung retorts as he lays back over Jimin.

He’s naked. And so is Jimin.

It’s kind of overwhelming to see and then immediately feel someone naked. All your senses are suddenly in overdrive, being fed too many information. For example: Jimin’s skin is really soft. He takes good care of it, even when he’s too tired from his studies or residency; Jimin still takes the time to moisturize. But it’s a softness that covers unyielding muscles. His thighs, arms and abs are toned. Jimin is strength covered in softness.

Also, Jimin’s nipples are brown and when Taehyung trails fingers over one of them, it perks up. When Taehyung bends down to lick and bite it, Jimin arches up and hisses.

Jimin is sensitive, and that’s something Taehyung always kind of knew because Jimin is rather ticklish and he gets goosebumps sometimes when Taehyung touches him. However, this a new aspect. Something that sends thrills down Taehyung’s veins.

He finds himself smiling as he realizes there are more things to learn about Jimin and about his body. Since he was ten, he’s been collecting data about this boy so Taehyung really thought that he knew him upside down.

He knows that Jimin doesn’t know how to sit like a normal human being. He’s always either crouching on chairs or sitting with his crossed legs, or curled up into a small ball. Most of the time, he sits with one foot on the chair, his arm resting on his knee, the very picture of casual sexiness.

Taehyung knows that Jimin has a slight lisp and that he whines to get his way.

He knows that his voice gets a lot deeper when he’s speaking in a foreign language.

He knows that when Jimin gets really excited, he curls his hands into fists and waves them around.

He knows that Jimin hates mangoes, likes pineapple on pizza and pours ketchup over his fries.

Taehyung also knows that it takes a lot for Jimin to cry and generally when he does; it’s out of love for the people he holds dear.

He knows that Jimin loves praise but that he doesn’t deal well with receiving it. He also knows that Jimin deserves the praise because he works really, really, really hard.

Taehyung has learned that the reason why Jimin’s right eye is a bit swollen is because he fell on the toilet when he was young and got six stitches on his eyelid.

He thought he knew Jimin even before he met him but he didn’t. Not really. There’s a difference between seeing and living. There’s a difference between soul dreams and reality. He knows so much about him, now; about how he came to be this man right now, right in this moment, and here with Taehyung. He knows so much and he’ll keep learning.

Just as Jimin has learned him. All the ins and outs of Taehyung.

Almost all of them, in any case.

He lowers his head to kiss Jimin softly on the mouth. A sweet brush of lips. Just because he can.

“I read somewhere that astronauts can see up to sixteen sunrises during the course of a day,” he says looking intently at Jimin who looks back, patiently. “Can you imagine? Sixteen sunrises. And they say that you never get tired of its wonders. Every day, they’d wake up and time their days with the sunrises.”

Jimin nods silently, bringing a hand to push through Taehyung’s hair.

“I read that a few years back and it immediately made me think of you. The wonders of you,” Taehyung says with an impish smile while Jimin’s lips part and his eyes widen. “You’re my very own sunrise. Watching you shine has been so amazing, Jimin-ah.”

Jimin closes his eyes, one of hands curling around Taehyung’s nape and pulling him down for a long kiss; all warm lips and slow tongues. Something so soft and unhurried, it settles in Taehyung like a promise. Jimin kisses him with so much care, so much want; Taehyung melts onto him, overcome. Undone.

When they pull back, Jimin has tears shining in his eyes. “That is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said about me.”

“I should have said it sooner,” Taehyung says. There’s so much he hasn’t told Jimin, so much he longs to say. But now is not the time; not when he has a plane to catch in the morning.

“Shh, it’s okay. This is perfect,” Jimin says pulling him down for another kiss.

And then.

Then there’s cold lube on Taehyung’s fingers. There’s Jimin’s sharp intake as he feels Taehyung thumb over his entrance. There’s a tense moment as Taehyung takes that first leap, breaches past tense muscle. There’s a few reassuring words, dripping with devotion. Then, Taehyung takes his sweet time fingering him open. He spends too long on each finger, cataloguing every expression on Jimin’s face, capturing every noise he lets escape, triumphing every time he clenches around Taehyung’s fingers. It’s like listening to a symphony, first the sweetness of the piano, then the booming of the drums, the enchantment of the flutes and finally the grandness of the violins. A beautiful crescendo that leaves Taehyung breathless and wanting more.

He takes his time because it’s his first time with Jimin and it’ll be his last time for a while. If he doesn’t take his time now, when will he?

Jimin is a babbling mess by the time Taehyung is three fingers in. He’s sweaty, his hair sticking to his forehead and Taehyung learns that Jimin’s flush can travel down to his chest. He looks so beautiful, Taehyung aches with it.

“Tae. Taehyung, please. Please, Taetae. Love, I’m ready.”

Taehyung retracts his fingers and Jimin whines. “Shh, it’s okay. I got you, baby.” Jimin’s eyes darken further at the term of endearment and he looks like he doesn’t know what to do with it, what to do with Taehyung. Taehyung crawls back up his body and smiles down at him. “My baby,” he says and kisses him sweetly. Jimin moans into his mouth.

And then.

Then Taehyung wraps his fingers around himself, squeezing the base and grunting at the slight relief. Jimin’s eyes are fixed on him, going from Taehyung’s hand around his cock to Taehyung’s face.

“God, I really love this,” Jimin says lifting his hips up so that his hard dick brushes the back of Taehyung’s fingers. Taehyung locks eyes with him as an understanding passes between them. He grabs the bottle of lube and quickly drizzles some more of it on Jimin’s dick (he gasps) and wraps his long fingers around both of them. He pumps his fist up and down, slow, achingly slow and it’s nothing like the real thing, there’s not enough pressure, but it’s Jimin and it’s Taehyung and it feels so good; Taehyung can barely sees straight.

“Fuck, I knew those fingers were magic,” Jimin pants and rolls his hips, fucking into Taehyung’s fist at a slow pace too. His eyes are hooded, ensnaring Taehyung. He goes for another kiss, this one wet and filthy and daring. He sucks on Jimin’s tongue, playfully bites the tip and Jimin smiles into the kiss.

“I knew you’d taste sweet. Like an autumn fruit, a little sour but all the sweeter for it,” Taehyung replies before biting Jimin’s bottom lip. Jimin gasps again, opens his mouth for more but Taehyung just slot Jimin’s upper lip between his and sucks softly. “I could kiss you forever,” he says after pulling away, his lips still close to Jimin’s. Jimin licks at Taehyung’s parted lips but doesn’t push his tongue in. In retaliation, Taehyung pumps his hand a little faster, wraps his fingers just a little tighter around their cocks and it’s a lot. So much actually that he has to close his eyes, and drop his forehead on Jimin’s. Jimin wraps his arms around his shoulders and meets every pump from Taehyung’s hand with a roll of his hips. It’s hot and dizzying, Taehyung doesn’t want to stop. He wants to keep going just like this, so close, their chest molded against his other, their heartbeats conversing together, until they both reach climax.

“I hope you do,” Jimin whimpers and it’s just a few words but they’re a spark, setting fire to Taehyung’s entire being. He pulls away to look at him but Jimin is lost to the moment; his eyes are screwed shut and his mouth open.

Jimin just promised him forever.

Taehyung uncurls his fingers from around their cocks and pulls away slightly. He feels cold suddenly and he almost resume what he started. They were so close . His dick is so hard, it hurts and from the looks of it, Jimin isn’t doing much better. But Jimin just promised him forever and suddenly, not being inside of him feels like sin.

“You better think your next move through because I was really close,” Jimin threatens softly. His voice is a low rasp that sends shivers down Taehyung’s spine.

“My next move is my dick up your pretty rear end,” Taehyung quips and blows him a kiss.

“I always knew you were a fucking genius,” Jimin says, letting his legs drop from around Taehyung’s waist and spreading his thighs again. Taehyung guides the tip of his cock to Jimin’s hole and they both take a deep breath at the same time.

“Ready?” Taehyung asks.

“Fuck, yes!”

That’s more than he needs. Taehyung pushes in and he wants to be gentle, go slow but his excitement makes him a bit clumsy and his cock stutters in, a bit deeper than he intended. He immediately stops when he feels Jimin clench around him.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says leaning over to kiss Jimin’s cheek.

"You’re fine. It’s fine,” Jimin says following his mouth and stealing a warm peck. “You spent about a year prepping me,” he reminds him.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Taehyung insists.

“Love, you haven’t. Just please,” Jimin lets his head thump back against Taehyung’s pillow and takes a deep breath. “I feel so empty. Please, can you… can you fill me up?” he begs and he’s so pretty, so fucking attractive, Taehyung’s hip roll down on their own, pulling him further in. Jimin’s eyelashes flutter and he swallows. “You’re so big and beautiful and I need you so much. I’ve needed you for so long, Taetae.”

“Oh my god,” Taehyung breathes as he thrusts slowly further. “God, I want you so much. You’re so hot.”

Jimin shifts, lifting his hips in a sensually slow roll that brings Taehyung in further. He hasn’t bottomed out yet but that’s not something he expects. He’s not one to brag but Taehyung is big and he has yet to meet someone who could take all of him. It’s never been an issue and it’s not like Taehyung tops all the time. But right now, Jimin keeps rolling his hips, bringing Taehyung closer and Taehyung keeps getting deeper.

And then.

Then Taehyung hips meet Jimin’s and he moans loudly, his voice raw and his throat tight.

“God, you’re so big. Hnnnng, you feel so incredibly good,” Jimin leans up and kisses him deep, tongue curling and uncurling around Taehyung’s while his hips shifts to accommodate Taehyung inside of him.

Taehyung is inside of Jimin.

“I’ve never felt so full, Taehyungie,” Jimin pants but Taehyung can’t reply, can barely think at all. Jimin grinds up, jaw clenched and eyes rolled to the back of his head.

Taehyung finally understands why lust is considered a sin.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers almost to himself but it’s loud enough that Jimin settles back on the mattress, eyes back on Taehyung’s. “You’re. Jimin-ah, you’re everything,” he says as he pulls away. Jimin opens his mouth to reply but he only sobs when Taehyung pushes back in, firmly this time.

He changes the pace slightly. It’s still a languid affair, something silky and hot, sensuous and velvety. But Taehyung speeds up, thrust in a little harder every time, pushing in faster. He changes the angle a couple of times, Jimin shifting with him until they find the perfect rhythm, until Taehyung hits the perfect note with every thrust.

He’s sweating and Jimin’s thighs are trembling and their voices merge together in a singular harmony. The slap of skin against skin just drives Taehyung wild, making his hips work harder. And Taehyung discovers something new about Jimin again: he’s relentless.

He keeps goading Taehyung into letting loose, fucking him harder and deeper.

“God, Taehyung. Angel. Baby,” he whispers, his words like flower petals sticking to Taehyung’s sweaty skin. “I’ve never. This is. I just,” he stutters, picking up words and dropping them again, seemingly unable to focus on one thought. “You’re amazing. I’ve never felt like this.”

It’s the bond , Taehyung thinks but the bond hasn’t been fulfilled. Not yet. It might never be. But for the first time, Taehyung truly doesn’t care about that. He doesn’t need to think about Jimin, the soulmate. Not when Jimin the lover is robbing all the stars from the sky and burying them in Taehyung’s heart.

“Me neither,” He replies, biting at Jimin’s collarbone. “I want to stay right here, inside you, forever.”

“So stay,” Jimin begs, struggling for breath when Taehyung hits his prostate again. “God, stay. Please stay,” Jimin chants before pulling him down for another toe curling kiss, not leaving time for any argument.

Taehyung doesn’t want to argue.

He slows down the pace but only to bring the symphony to a banging end; his thrusts harder, each one like a gavel giving the last judgment on Taehyung’s fate.

He’s Jimin’s. Soulmark or not, Taehyung was always meant to wind up here.

Loving him.

When Jimin’s orgasm hits it takes them both by surprise. Jimin sobs once, eyes as wide as saucers, clutching Taehyung tight. So tight that he pulls him into his own orgasm too, a low whine escaping him.

“I was right,” Jimin says panting harshly, limbs sprawled across the bed. Taehyung, slumped over him grunts.

“About?”

“It was transcendental,” Jimin replies and Taehyung doesn’t need to look to know he’s smiling, all too pleased with himself. Taehyung bites the skin under his lips, which just happens to be a nipple. Jimin hisses.

“Asshole,” he complains but again, he sounds happy. Soft. Like music to Taehyung’s ears.

He smiles. “Shall I fetch another condom, then?”

Jimin’s peel of laughter rings through Taehyung’s very soul.

September 1 st 2020                 

Jimin is twenty-four, ten months and nineteen days old.

Jimin wakes up some time later feeling too warm.

He’s spent enough time in Taehyung’s bed to know the reason why. He shifts, turning until he’s facing Taehyung who is still sleeping soundly. He doesn’t need to be too gentle, he knows it would take a lot more to wake Taehyung up. He doesn’t need to but he still chooses to be, wanting to revel in the feeling of waking up in Taehyung’s arm.

He comes face to face with Taehyung’s slack mouth and his half lidded eyes. It’s one of the first things he noticed about Taehyung; his lazy eyelids that gave up halfway through closing over his big, beautiful brown eyes. Namjoon calls it creepy. Jimin’s always thought it was kind of cute.

Maybe because the memory of seeing it for the first time still simmers quietly inside of him. Jimin had been studying up a storm, closing himself up in his room and burying himself under a mountain of books, notes, flashcards and highlighter. He hadn’t showered in a few days and he barely remembered to eat. They’d been friends for a few months but they weren’t the kind of friends that spent the nights in each other’s beds yet. Jimin’s other friends knew better than to bother him while he studied. They worried about him but Jimin was adamant on not allowing distraction. The only person he saw was Hoseok and even then it was because Hoseok lived with him. He left food outside Jimin’s door and kept the noise to a minimum.

Taehyung understood the rules but he would be the first to break them.

He came every day after school or work and lay on Jimin’s bed to study. He’d keep quiet while he read his notes or sorted through his projects. He’d watch over Jimin who studied at his desk, made sure Jimin slept and ate. Sometimes he’d massage Jimin’s hands when he complained about what writing so much did to them.

Usually he’d go home when he made sure Jimin was sleeping but one night, after a long shift, he laid on Jimin’s bed, curled his noodley frame around one of his pillows and fell asleep instantly. And it was the most outrageous thing that so far, Taehyung hadn’t managed to distract Jimin from his studies but his sleeping form did the trick.

That’s when he noticed the eyelid thing.

That’s also when he first had to distract himself from thoughts of Taehyung’s mouth on his own.

They’ve come so far since then.

Jimin smiles to himself now and scoots closer to Taehyung. He smells like fruit, honey and Jimin. The thought is so exhilarating; Jimin’s heart squeezes inside his chest.

Jimin has often wondered what post-sex cuddles would feel like with him. Now he knows: it feels safe.

There isn’t a lot of light in the room yet but Jimin can still see the bruises on Taehyung’s neck, reddish little marks that bear Jimin’s seal. After they showered together and came back to bed, they made out. Like teenagers, hearts light and mouths teasing. The memory is like champagne bubbles inside his heart, making Jimin feel giddy and loose. He wants to add more marks, wake Taehyung up and use that second condom they talked about. There’s something incendiary about the thought of Taehyung going away and taking a memory of Jimin’s lips with him.

With Taehyung clinging to him like he is now, the feeling of him still scorching Jimin’s skin, it’s easy to ignore the pang at the thought of his departure.

Because despite his words a few hours ago, there’s no way he’s going to keep Taehyung here. It’s going to kill him but he’s not going to be the reason Taehyung’s career suffers.

He waited years to be with him, what’s a few more months? And it’s not like he can’t visit him wherever he goes. Jimin has the means and he thinks he wants to see the Venus of Milo with Taehyung or kiss him in front on a boat in Venice. He wants to go to little restaurants in Istanbul and take silly selfies on top of the Empire State Building.

Jimin smiles at the thought and that’s when his bladder decides to make a nuisance out of itself. He sighs and gingerly untangles himself from Taehyung who mumbles something incomprehensible before curling around Jimin’s abandoned pillow. The sight is so familiar, so dear, Jimin’s throat tightens. He finds it hard, suddenly, moving from the bed. His hand finds its way to Taehyung’s hair, brushing his bangs aside. He feels a lump at his throat at the sight of his big forehead.

He laid so many kisses there over the years. He’s going to have to wait a long time before he can do so again. He won’t get to watch Taehyung sleep, won’t get to see his stupidly long eyelashes flutter as he slowly wakes up. Jimin won’t get to delight in watching Taehyung’s lips stretch into a sleepy smile as he notices Jimin next to him.

Like he’s done every single time Jimin’s slept in his bed.

During the summer between Jimin’s second and third year, Taehyung and Namjoon got a bigger apartment and a more comfortable couch to go along with it. Jimin could have slept on it but Taehyung always pulled him to his room, to his bed, to him.

There are tears blurring his vision now so Jimin escapes the room before he he does something foolish. There are tears blurring his vision and Jimin is clumsy by nature so he doesn’t see one of Namjoon’s sneakers on the floor of the hallway. He trips over them and bangs his shoulder on the wooden cabinet standing close.

Yoongi is always harping about the damn thing, Jimin remembers as pain shoots down his arm.

Something rattles on top of it and before Jimin can prevent it, it falls on the floor. It’s a box and its content spill on the floor as it crashes open.

“Ugh,” Jimin complains as he switches on the light. He crouches down next to what appears to be sketches, pictures and notes. Jimin is really not one to pry so he has no intention of looking closely at them except one of the pictures catches his eyes.

It’s Moon Boy. The sculpture made of light that he saw at the exhibit six years ago. Jimin smiles thinking that whoever this box belongs to must have liked the art as much as he did but as he looks more closely at the picture, he notices that something is different about it. It might have been six years ago but Jimin spent weeks looking at it; he remembers it vividly.

On the picture, the sculpture is only partially finished. The desk is halfway done and the sleeping boy doesn’t have glasses on.

A shiver runs down Jimin’s spine.

He settles on the floor, legs crossed and with only a moment of guilty hesitation, he looks at another picture. And another. And another. They all catalogue the creative process of the art piece. Amongst them, there are sketches; sketches of a boy that look an awful lot like Jimin. A boy wearing clothes that Jimin used to wear as kid, a boy with the same smile, the same pout, and the same hands. There’s also a copy of the letter that V presented alongside the sculpture.

Jimin stops breathing.

He recognizes the handwriting. Taehyung left him enough notes, wrote him enough letters for Jimin to be as familiar with his handwriting as his own.

Taehyung is V.

Unbeknownst to him, tears roll down his cheeks as he hurriedly looks through more of the box’s content.

A sob escapes him when he finds a letter with his own handwriting. A letter he wrote six years ago and that he thought he’d lost forever. A letter that Taehyung somehow found and kept for years. His fingers keep picking up random items until he finds a picture if Taehyung. At first, he doesn’t understand why it’s here but when he looks closer he recognizes the Aquarium Kaiyukan. Then his eyes fall to the background and he gasps softly when he recognises himself. He drops the picture on the floor and tries to remember if he saw Taehyung that day. If he did, it didn’t register with him.

Jimin keeps looking through the box’s content until he finds a little notebook, buried under sketches of Jimin through the years. He opens it.

Things I Know About My Soulmate

The writing is child-like, Taehyung must have been around ten when he wrote it.

• He has brown eyes.
• He likes sour tasting things.
• One of his teeth is crooked.
• He smiles with his entire body

The list goes on and on, spanning years. Taehyung’s handwriting becoming surer and the information gathered less general, more intimate.

Jimin recoils and drops the notebook when he reaches the year 2014. He shuffles back hurriedly until his back hits the wall. His minds is running wildly, his heart hammering against his chest. He presses his fists to his teary eyes and tries to calm his breathing. But he can’t do anything, feels suddenly so powerless and so foolish.

Taehyung is his soulmate and he’s known that for literally decades. He never said anything to Jimin, never even alluded to even having a soulmate. Jimin’s never even seen a mark. Hell, they just had sex, and he-

The thought comes to a halt when Jimin remembers the band aids.

Taehyung has been wearing them since they met. He never told Jimin why and Jimin never pried. It never occurred to him that it could be hiding a soulmark. His own soulmark. Sometimes, he even buys Taehyung cute band aids and he’s seen Taehyung wear them around him.

Fuck. He feels so stupid.

He crawls back to the mess on the floor and looks at the pictures again until he finds what he’s looking for. Inside a file with the word MOON on it there are several black and white pictures of a wrist.

Taehyung’s wrist.

So Jimin’s soulmark is a moon. He always wondered about that.

He screws his eyes shut and pants quietly to swallow a sob.

Most of the pictures show a small crescent. Others show a full moon, sometimes completely black. Other times the moon is hiding under clouds. At the back of each picture there’s a date and time written carefully.

Jimin wonders what it means, wonders if these pictures were taken on particularly hard days for Taehyung. Or maybe for him. He looks through them until he finds one that dates back from april 2011. The moon is full and covered with clouds.

He feels something fracture inside of him.

“Jimin?” Taehyung says from behind him and Jimin whirls around, another sob escaping with his surprise. Taehyung is a few feet away, face scrunched up to fend off the harsh light of the hallway. He’s almost naked except for his boxers and his hair is a mess.

Jimin can’t look at him.

He averts his eyes and lets the file drop to the floor, not far from Taehyung’s naked feet. He hears Taehyung’s sudden sharp intake and sees his feet move but Jimin backs away.

“Don’t,” he says, cold eyes back on him.

“Jimin, please let me explain.”

“No.”

“Jim-,”

“NO!”

Jimin takes a deep breath and looks down at the scattered truth.

The truth Taehyung kept from him.

“You knew. You knew all along and you,” the words stumbles into a halt on his tongue, tasting sharply bitter. “You let me fall in love with you. You made me love you.”

“I didn’t make you do anything,” Taehyung’s broken voice counters. Jimin looks back at him, glare firmly in place now.

“You had six years. Six fucking years to come clean and you never did.”

Why? The word keeps echoing inside his mind. Why did Taehyung keep that to himself? Was Jimin lacking? Did Taehyung think he couldn’t be trusted with the knowledge? Was Jimin such a bad choice of soulmate that Taehyung couldn’t bring himself to deal with the truth?

Why, why, why?

“I knew you wouldn’t want to hear it,” Taehyung whispers, his voice wet and a pain in eyes that Jimin refuses to linger on. Taehyung doesn’t bother wiping his tears away when they fall.

“That wasn’t your choice to make!” Jimin yells.

“You never really left me any choice.”

“I don’t fucking care what you think you knew about me. You had no right to keep this from me.”

Taehyung opens his mouth and closes it again. He looks down at the file by his feet and his hand wraps over the bandaid.

Jimin’s anger boils into something mean and ugly.

“Find someone else to take you to the airport,” he says and scurries to the bedroom where he quickly dresses. Taehyung remains in the hallway with his secrets. Jimin can hear him sniffling quietly.

Jimin avoids his eyes as he passes him again on his way out.

“Jimin, please,” Taehyung tries again but it falls on deaf ears. Jimin doesn’t slam the door and he’s in his car before he can even register getting there. He drives fast, he knows he shouldn’t but it’s still really early, the ink of the sky distilled into soft grays and pinks and peaches.

The moon is full tonight. Jimin sobs all the way home.

When he gets to his flat he almost hurls himself out of his clothes and into the shower. He leans on the tiled wall as he lets scalding hot water cascade down his shoulders and back. He doesn’t wash, he doesn’t need to. He just stands under the spray and tries not to scream.

In the car he thought he’d cried all he could but even as the water turns cold, the tears won’t relent. His throat hurts from all the sobbing he’s done and he feels like a herd of elephants is sitting on his chest.

He can’t breathe properly because there’s only one thought in his mind right now:

I wanted it to be him.

He never really stopped to think about it, too busy being actually in love with Taehyung to pay much attention to the soulmate business anymore. He was so busy being in love with his soulmate that he never stopped to wonder if Taehyung could be it.

And tonight, he realizes with clarity that he’s been harboring the secret hope that Taehyung could be his soulmate.

Just as he finishes the thought, he feels a sharp pain at the top of his left thigh. He turns the water off and looks down at the skin there. It’s red. He frowns rubbing a hand over it and then another fresh wave of pain shoots through him. It’s a burning, intense kind of pain that is not contained to one part of him, rather he can feel it deeper than just on the surface. Like the core of him is on fire. He chokes, not understanding what’s happening. The patch of skin is turning redder and redder and the only thing Jimin can think to do is press his palm to it. He curles a little on himself, keeping his hand steady as the ache spreads through him. And then he feel the skin under his palm raise so he peak under it. When he sees lines starting to appear, Jimin understands.

The mark.

He crouches inside the bathtub, teeth clenched in agony as the soulmark finishes appearing on his skin. It seems to last an infinity, the burning pain only increasing with each new line. There are new tears in Jimin’s eyes but he can’t make himself close his eyes or even look away.

When the pain finally recedes, a whimper escapes Jimin’s lips.

A perfect tear falls on the tiger etched on his skin.