Chapter Text
Growing up has always been an intriguing concept to Jeon Jeongguk. The idea that, one day, he might no longer be under his father’s orders, his mother’s needs, his brother’s teasing was…thrilling. Not that he doesn’t appreciate being a child, by any means, but sometimes he just wants more than what this life can get him.
He knows the concept of responsibilities and letting go of one thing in favor of another like no one else, and he knows how fragile moments are, how easily they can disappear in front of his eyes. One of the perks of moving around the country so often is that Jeongguk meets a lot of different people, different places, different cultures – the biggest downside is that he knows they won’t stay with him for long.
Jeongguk grows up with two things in mind: first, one day he is going to become an adult – he isn’t sure how soon, how abruptly this is going to be brought up onto him, but he is more than prepared – and second, you can’t get attached to people if you don’t want to get hurt.
And then he meets Park Jimin.
Park Jimin, with his shiny black hair, chubby cheeks and eyes that turn into little crescents whenever he smiles – and, boy, does he smile often.
Jeongguk spots the boy eyeing him from afar during his first day of school in Busan, yet another new city, and for a moment there he is concerned. He has been bullied before, he is an easy target after all, but it had really seemed that people around this school liked him so far.
One girl even cornered him as soon as he arrived, nudging his ribs and saying: “Your haircut is nice. Looks like Bieber. Do you know Bieber? Can you sing like Bieber?”. As it turns out, Jeongguk can sing like Bieber, and the girl was squealing and calling her friends over by the time he was finished.
“Hi,” a small voice startles Jeongguk, who jumps off his seat, immediately taking a step back. The boy isn’t big – he is about Jeongguk’s size, actually – and maybe Jeongguk can take him down if it comes down to it, but he has never been much of a fighter. “Hello?” The boy repeats, tilting his head to the side and squinting his eyes at Jeongguk like he is crazy. “You can speak, can’t you?”
“Yes,” Jeongguk stammers half a second too late.
The other kid smiles again, so wide and so… beautiful, that Jeongguk has to look away.
“My name is Park Jimin,” he goes on easily, as if Jeongguk hasn’t been acting extremely weird since the moment he arrived. “I heard your name is Jeon Jeongguk?”
It comes off as a question, but the way Jimin nods his head slowly made Jeongguk know he isn’t fishing for an actual answer. The younger remains silent, gripping gently onto the edge of his seat, carefully eyeing around the common area of the school. It’s break and people are everywhere – if Park Jimin does attack him, he can probably tackle him and say it was self-defense. People are watching them; they can confirm it.
“Aish, are you even listening to me?” Jimin sighs a bit too dramatically, getting Jeongguk’s attention back to himself. He looks cute like that – cheeks puffed, nose scrunched up, shaking his head in disapproval. “I asked if you can really sing.”
“I…” Jeongguk clears his throat, looking down at his lap. He presses his thumbs harder against the wooden edge of his seat, chewing down on his bottom lip. Jimin is still standing before him, waiting for a response. “I… I guess?”
He raises his gaze once again and finds Jimin to be smiling. “Great. Can you sing for me, while I dance?”
Thinking back to it years later, Jeongguk won’t be sure what part of that very sentence made him melt. If it was the honest, bright smile on Jimin’s face, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, his airy voice, or just the plain fact he wanted Jeongguk to sing while he danced, but the fact is, after that, Jeongguk couldn’t help the smile off his face.
“Yes, of course. My place after school?”
.
Park Jimin is many things that Jeongguk isn’t. He is calm like the waves crashing the shore every Sunday morning, friendly and open to the point of everyone knowing who he is, witty and snarky with his comebacks and, above all, he is so sure of who he is that it actually put Jeongguk off the first few days of their friendship.
There is this air of confidence around the boy, like he has his entire life figured out and the world to back it up. How could that be, when he is only two years older than Jeongguk, who is as lost as they come?
Junghyun loves Jimin right off the bat. They are closer in age, just a few months separating them, but Junghyun is attending a more high-profile school than his and Jimin’s, so they couldn’t be colleagues.
Still, it doesn’t stop his hyung from pouncing at Jimin for attention whenever he comes around.
His mother, too, adores Jimin. Jeongguk isn’t even sure how or when that happened, but in between all the times Jimin comes over – to do homework together, watch TV, play video games or just dance around Jeongguk’s room while he sings – the woman becomes so infatuated with the boy that she sighs and complains whenever Jimin can’t come around.
As expected, however, the confidence and brightness that everyone finds mesmerizing in Jimin just doesn’t cut it for Jeongguk’s father.
“Jeongguk,” he calls out one night, after Jimin has left to go home and help his mother make dinner. A whole year has passed since their arrival in Busan, but the man is still always too busy, never home.
Jeongguk is actually surprised to see him there before the later hours of the night, when he stumbles home exhausted and full of complaints. Right now, there is a stern look on his father’s face as he beckons Jeongguk over, and the boy’s shoulders hunch within himself, making him smaller. Always smaller in front of the man. “I don’t want that boy hanging around our house anymore.”
There is a small noise coming from the kitchen, and the soft humming of his mother’s singing come to a stop. Jeongguk’s eyes are wide as he looks up at his father, pleading.
“But, appa, he is my—Jimin is my best friend.”
“Not anymore,” the man says sternly, crossing his knees and spreading that day’s newspaper on his lap, running his eyes over the yellow pages. “I don’t need my son hanging around a boy like that.”
Jeongguk doesn’t know what “a boy like that” means, but he knows – he knows – nothing about Jimin could be bad enough to put an end to their friendship. A boy like that has to mean a boy so beautiful, a boy so bright, a boy so good that makes Jeongguk’s knees buck and his heart turn into a racing mess whenever he stands too close.
A boy like that, like Jimin, is all the good things Jeongguk could name in the world – he can’t bear the thought of losing a boy like that.
“Just give me a few days, Jeonggukkie,” his mother run her fingers through Jeongguk’s hair, his head on her lap as he sobs. It is later that night, after his father has gone to bed, and she is whispering promises into the dark of the night at him. “I am going to make this right. He can’t keep you from seeing Jimin—baby, don’t cry.”
Jeongguk cries himself to sleep.
The next morning, Jeongguk wakes up earlier than anyone in the house, packs a change of clothes and a few snacks, and climbs on his bicycle, riding to the Park’s house.
He is not losing a boy like that.
.
There is a new boy in their school. Like Jeongguk, he is also from another city, having moved to Busan because of his father’s work as well. He is tall, taller than Jeongguk – who is now a good inch taller than Jimin – and he is loud. He smiles and it’s wide, boxy, inviting. His name is Taehyung and he is in Jimin’s class, two whole years older than Jeongguk, but doesn’t treat him like a child at all.
Jeongguk likes him, of course. He is fun and he is friendly, and Taehyung makes Jimin laugh a lot, so there’s that.
Jeongguk loves to hear Jimin laugh.
“Are you coming over today?” Jeongguk asks Jimin as they’re walking out of the school’s area, already climbing on his bicycle and making room for Jimin at the back. It’s now been a few months since the incident with his father and, like his mother promised, she managed to make him change his mind.
There was a lot of yelling involved. A lot of crying.
Jeongguk swore he had heard her say “I am going to leave and take them with me”.
Jimin scrunches up his nose in that adorable, sweet way that he always does, and shakes his head. “Not today, Gukkie. I promised Taetae I was going to help him with his homework. You know, he is new and it’s the middle of the semester…”
Jeongguk swallows thickly the lump in his throat. Right. Taetae.
“Yeah, um.” He tightens the helmet on top of his head, nodding once to Jimin. “Alright, hyung. See you tomorrow?”
Jimin’s smile is so bright that it comes close to blinding. “Of course, Gukkie.” He says, waving at him with his smaller hands. As Jeongguk rides off, he hears Taehyung’s awfully deep, loud voice calling Jimin’s name and then the soft thud of – maybe – Taehyung jumping on Jimin. He does that a lot.
Jimin giggles, loud and bright and clear, and Jeongguk’s stomach turns.
Jeongguk loves to hear Jimin’s laugh, but he hates that it’s not him making him do that.
.
“I have a question,” Jimin says one afternoon, a few weeks later.
They’re both laying on Jeongguk’s bed on their stomachs, feet propped up towards the air, a mess of notebooks and textbooks in front of them. They both have tests coming up and decided to study together that day – Jeongguk was relieved that Jimin wasn’t ditching him for Taehyung that day. He’s been doing that a lot, lately.
“Hyung, I really don’t get Math, you know that.” Jeongguk whines a bit, turning on his side to eye the textbook in front of Jimin. The numbers always make him dizzy in the head.
“Aish, don’t be silly, it’s not about that.” Jimin giggled softly, rolling his eyes. Jeongguk couldn’t stop the fond smile from spreading across his lips. “It’s about…um. Have you ever liked someone, Jeonggukkie?”
Jeongguk’s face turns into a deep shade of red right away, looking away from Jimin and towards his own textbook. “I don’t know,” he admits with a shrug. “I…I guess? How do you even know that?”
Jimin sighs next to him, abandoning any pretense of actually studying to roll onto his back and stare up at the ceiling.
“You just do. You like that person and you like whatever they do. They make you happy and light and—and you feel like you can take on the world if they’re next to you.”
Jeongguk remains silent, staring holes into his textbook. He doesn’t dare looking at Jimin now, doesn’t dare letting their eyes meet and maybe see something he doesn’t want to see there.
“Do you…do you like someone, hyung?” It’s a small, whispered question, like he’s hoping Jimin won’t hear.
He does. There is a small, choked breath coming from Jimin’s side and then he is giggling. Giggling, giggling, giggling – airy, bubbly, the kind of giggles you’d expect to hear from a toddler, not a fifteen-year-old.
Jeongguk turns to watch him, always hypnotized, always allured by his charm. He feels his own lips twitching into a giggle, but he has no idea what’s so funny. After what seems like forever, Jimin’s giggles come to a halt, and he turns on his side to eye Jeongguk.
“Oh, Jeonggukkie, I like someone so much,” he giggles again, though it’s weaker this time. “And—I think they like me too.”
There is a pang of something evil in Jeongguk’s chest and his stomach turns, vision going blurry for a split of second. It hurts. It hurts a lot. Why does it hurt? Should it hurt?
“That’s—that’s nice, Jimin-ah.” He squeaks out, turning away to stare at his textbook again.
“There is only a small issue, you see,” Jimin is speaking again, and Jeongguk can see from the corner of his eyes that Jimin’s are casted downward. He is playing with the blue duvet of Jeongguk’s bed, a matching color to his walls, pulling at the loose strings. “I don’t think he knows that he likes me.”
Jeongguk’s breath gets caught in his throat. I don’t think he knows that he likes me. He, a boy. Jimin likes a boy who doesn’t know he likes him back.
Jeongguk isn’t dumb, he isn’t living in denial. He knows that boys their age would spend a lot more time talking about girls than they do – they never do – and he also knows that his heart has never once raced in his chest at the concept of kissing, touching a girl.
He has never lost his breath over a girl’s smile.
Still, it had never been said. It had never been out in the open, put out in conversation. Jeongguk didn’t know if Jimin felt the same way about girls. Jeongguk didn’t know that Jimin likes boys.
“Is…” Jimin clears his throat. “Is that okay, Gukkie? That I like a boy?”
Jeongguk is still staring forward into his textbook, the words all but a blur in his vision. He doesn’t care about the test, he doesn’t care about the book, he doesn’t care about school.
God, what if it’s Taehyung? He thinks bitterly, biting down on his tongue.
“Is it Taehyung?” He snaps, finally turning to Jimin. The elder looks a bit taken back by the tone in Jeongguk’s voice, but he shakes his head. “It’s not Taehyung?”
Again, Jimin shakes his head. “Why would you assume it’s Taehyung?”
Jeongguk snorts, a bark of sarcastic laughter filling his chest. He sits up in the bed, his back to Jimin, and then rolls off of it. “You’re always with Taehyung. It’s always Taehyung. ‘He is so funny, he is so silly, he did the craziest thing the other day’,” Jeongguk steps away from the bed, arms crossed over his chest. “Of course I would assume it’s Taehyung.”
Jimin sits up in the bed, crawling to the edge of it, getting closer to Jeongguk’s standing position. “It’s hyung to you. He is older than you.”
Jeongguk’s eyes narrow. “Aish! You can’t be serious!”
If the way Jimin’s eyes crinkle a bit at the corners and he giggles is anything to go by, he isn’t serious. Still, Jeongguk just rolls his eyes.
“Gukkie. Look at me.” He pleads, voice taking that softer, smaller tone that Jimin got whenever he wants Jeongguk to do something for him. The younger, as expected, just follows his hyung’s request, eyes meeting Jimin’s easily. “It’s not Taehyung.” He crawls closer towards Jeongguk. With the way they’re standing, Jimin kneeling on the bed and Jeongguk standing in front of it, they’re almost the same height, eyes meeting easily.
“It’s…not?” He repeats, breath hitching in his throat. Jeongguk can see his face becoming warmer with his blush and, God, he hates how easy it is for Jimin to affect him. “Who is it?”
The question is barely above a whisper, but Jimin hears him loud and clear. The elder reaches for the collar of Jeongguk’s button-down, a part of their uniform that he actually likes, and traces the rough fabric with his fingertips. Jeongguk’s heart is racing in his chest, and he wonders if Jimin can hear it. If his heart is racing, too.
“It’s you.”
Jeongguk’s mouth opens and closes several times, no sound coming out. He eyes Jimin’s face, the lazy, calm smile on his hyung’s lips, and the way he moves closer, resting his other hand against Jeongguk’s chest.
“Your heart is beating so fast,” he whispers softly. “Do you like me, Jeonggukkie?”
I think they like me, too. He doesn’t know that he likes me.
“I—hyung,” Jeongguk stammers a response out. “I do.”
Jimin’s smile is still calm, a touch wider this time. Both of his hands move to the back of Jeongguk’s neck, his small, chubby fingers tracing lazy patterns against the tense muscles there.
“I know you do, Gukkie,” is what he says after a while. “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”
Jeongguk’s heart races faster. He swallows thickly, hands shaking as he moves them to Jimin’s hips, pressing him closer. The elder’s smile turns into a knowing grin. “Oh—Okay.”
Jimin’s lips are on his in a matter of seconds. They’re plush but firm, calm but intense. He gives and gives, and Jeongguk takes whatever he can get, squeezing him closer, pressing their heaving chests together. Jimin’s lips part, there is a tiny poke of tongue against Jeongguk’s bottom one, and when they finally taste each other, Jimin sighs long and hard, hands tightening against Jeongguk’s neck.
They kiss like they can’t stop. Until their clumsy movements turn into more skillful swipes of tongue, sucks and bites of lip. They kiss until Jeongguk is sure that his lungs are about to burst, and when they do pull away, they take harsh inhales of breath before kissing again. And again, and again, and again.
There is a small voice in the back of Jeongguk’s mind yelling at him to stop. There is a bigger one that tells him that nothing’s ever felt more right. No one is luckier than Jeongguk, with a boy like that.