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When Yoongi wakes up, he knows immediately he’s in Jimin’s bed. The light is too strong, the way it is in Jimin and Hoseok’s room in the morning, and the bed smells like Jimin. He doesn’t remember falling asleep there, but in the past several years of his life, he’s mastered the ability to fall asleep in all sorts of strange places. He and Jimin usually use Yoongi’s room if they want to sleep together, but this is far from the weirdest place he’s woken up. (Last month he woke up in the makeup chair, as the poor makeup artist was trying to fix his lip gloss. He’d slept entirely through the foundation.)
He’s a little more surprised when he realizes he can’t feel Jimin anywhere - surely the point of sleeping in Jimin’s bed would be to sleep with Jimin, and it seems unlikely Jimin would be awake earlier than him. But Jimin is definitely not in bed with him.
He’s debating whether he should get out of bed and go look for Jimin in case he got up to be sick or something when he’s tackled-cuddled from behind.
“Good morning~~ Jimin!!” Hoseok coos in his ear.
“‘M not Jimin,” Yoongi grumbles, but something about his voice feels weird in his throat. There’s a brief struggle while Hoseok tries to tug the blanket down and Yoongi tries to pull it up over his head so it will be dark again and he can hide from the morning people. In the end, Hoseok wins, probably because of his advantage of being actually awake.
Yoongi opens his eyes blearily, since it seems there’s no getting away from the light and Hoseok’s determined efforts. Hoseok is frowning down at him, which is a very strange expression on Hoseok. It’s even worse than he looks when someone’s screwed up their choreography or tried to show him a bug.
“Wassa matter,” he mumbles. His voice still sounds weird. Is this the beginning of a cold? He hopes not, he was supposed to be in the studio this week and he doesn’t want to have to push it off for another week. “Tell hyung.”
“You’re … Yoongi?” Hoseok says, like he’s not sure. A cold shiver runs down Yoongi’s spine as he rapidly wakes up. Now he’s worried about Jimin and Hoseok both.
“Don’t be rude,” he says automatically. “Who else would I be?”
Wordlessly, Hoseok grabs his hand and holds it up in front of his face, flipping it over so he can see the 13 tattooed on the underside of his wrist. Jimin’s wrist.
Well, fuck.
***
Hoseok throws a pair of pants from the floor at Yoongi - Jimin’s, he recognizes them - and together they go down the hall to Yoongi’s room. There’s a lump under the covers with Yoongi’s black hair sticking out. Yoongi has a sudden horrible thought. What if this isn’t Jimin, but someone else? One bodyswap is bad enough. He hasn’t had enough coffee to deal with a whole chain of them. He hasn’t had any coffee at all.
“Jimin-ah, wake up,” Hoseok says, shaking whoever it might be.
“Don’t wanna,” Jimin mumbles, and Yoongi feels the relief rush through him. That’s Jimin, all right, the tone and cadence perfectly familiar even when overlaid into Yoongi’s morning rasp.
“You gotta, it’s an emergency,” Hoseok tells him. Yoongi isn’t quite so sure about that. They’ve found Jimin, after all. It seems unlikely the problem is going to get worse if they go back to sleep until a more normal hour. Yoongi could cuddle his boyfriend and get at least 45 minutes more sleep until they have to be up, but Hoseok is wound too tightly for that.
Yoongi can see Jimin forcefully drag himself out of sleep, clearly alarmed by the steel in Hoseok’s voice. He pushes himself up and stares at Hoseok, rubbing his eyes the way he does when he’s still mostly asleep. “What’s wrong?”
Yoongi waves awkwardly from the doorway. Jimin just stares at him for a moment, then Yoongi sees the minute it hits him. He reaches one hand up to his face, touching the line of his jaw, the piercings in his ear, the way his hair lies, before holding both hands out in front of him. Definitely not Jimin’s hands.
“Yoongi-hyung?” Jimin asks cautiously. “Is that you?”
“Yeah, I’m here,” Yoongi says.
“Is it just us?” Jimin asks.
“I’m still me,” Hoseok says. “We haven’t checked with any of the others yet.”
Jimin divides them up to go check on the others, and wake them up if necessary. He wants a team meeting before they have to go to work, so they can work out a plan for how to handle this. Yoongi supposes that makes sense, even if he’d rather nap. Jimin and Hoseok head down the hall to the other bedrooms, and Yoongi heads for the common areas.
Yoongi finds Namjoon in the kitchen, staring at their coffee maker like it contains the secrets of the universe, and if he can solve them, he’ll get caffeine. It would be more concerning if Namjoon didn’t look like this every morning. Yoongi leans over him to press the sequence of buttons to start it brewing.
“Namjoon-ah, we need to have a team meeting before schedules today.”
“What’s wrong, Jimin-ah?”
“I’m not Jimin, I’m Yoongi.”
Namjoon frowns. “Is this a prank? Is that what this is about?”
Yoongi checks that they’re alone in the kitchen, then leans in close. “When you were seventeen you came out to me by telling me about the anime dudes you were into.”
“That’s not - Yoongi said he’d never tell anyone about that!” Namjoon yelps
“And I didn’t,” Yoongi says steadily.
“Okay. Okay, hyung. Uh. If you’re hyung, where’s Jimin? Is he okay?”
“We checked that first, he’s fine, he’s in my body. He and Hoseok are getting everyone else rounded up for a meeting.”
Namjoon visibly tries to wake himself up enough to step into the role of Bangtan’s leader enough to run a team meeting. It’s cute. Yoongi is grateful, not for the first time, that he’s not their leader. Especially not when it comes to things like this. What are you even supposed to do for something like this?
Seokjin is the first to show up, as an actual morning person. He takes his coffee and goes to sit on the couch with a muttered “morning Joon-ah, morning Jimin.” Yoongi doesn’t bother to correct him yet - he only wants to go through this once. Taehyung is next, substantially less awake. Yoongi hands him hot water for tea, then follows him to the couch.
Jungkook is last, stumbling down the hall followed by Jimin and Hoseok. Yoongi would bet they practically had to drag him out of bed to get him to wake up.
Jungkook wedges himself on the couch between Yoongi and Taehyung, carefully balancing his coffee. He elbows Yoongi as he does. “Sorry, Yoongi-hyung,” he mumbles.
Seokjin laughs. “Kook-ah! That’s Jiminie!”
Jungkook wrinkles his nose. “Oh, sorry hyung, I don’t know why I thought you were Yoongi.”
“Actually, that’s what we wanted to talk to you about,” Jimin says. “I’m Jimin. That’s Yoongi.”
Yoongi isn’t really sure what he expected to happen, but a silence falls over the group. Then Taehyung speaks up.
“Oh, like what happened to Wooshik and Seojoon last year.”
“This is a thing that happens?” Seokjin asks suspiciously.
Taehyung shrugs. “I mean, I guess? We didn’t really bother to try to understand it or anything.”
Seokjin is not convinced. “Namjoon-ah, tell me you don’t believe this.”
Namjoon promptly turns beet red. “He - that one, I mean, knew secrets I had only told Yoongi-hyung,” he says, pointing to where Yoongi is sitting in Jimin’s body.
Yoongi tries not to roll his eyes. “Here, hyung, I know a secret for you too.”
“Ooh, I want a secret!” Taehyung says.
Jimin looks at Yoongi. “Hyung, you do a secret for Jin-hyung, I’ll do one for Taehyung.”
Seokjin’s secret is easy, and after whispering it to him, Yoongi sits back on the couch, satisfied.
“Stop that!” Seokjin hisses. “It’s weird seeing your smug expression on Jimin’s face, his smug expression is totally different.” Yoongi doesn’t bother to change his expression.
At the other end of the couch, Taehyung and Jimin are whispering back and forth. Namjoon claps his hands twice. “Okay! Taehyung, are you good?”
“Oh, I was good already. I just wanted to know what secret Jiminie would pick out for me.”
“It was a good one,” Jimin says. Oh, that’s Jimin’s smug expression on Yoongi’s face. Seokjin was right, it is super weird to see. So far he hasn’t been bothered by seeing himself in the third person - how could he be, he’s an idol - but it’s worse when Jimin makes expressions he doesn’t.
“Yeah, it was -” Taehyung starts.
“No!” Seokjin yells, as loudly as he can (years of vocal training have nothing on his natural gift, Yoongi thinks). “No, thank you! No one wants to know what secrets you two have.”
“Right,” Namjoon says. “Jungkook-ah, what about you?”
“No, I knew it was Yoongi-hyung,” Jungkook says, simply. It’s true though, he did know.
“Okay, so we’re all believers now,” Seokjin says. “What next?”
“Taehyung-ah, you said this happened to your friends, right? How did they fix it?” Hoseok asks.
Taehyung thinks about it. “They didn’t tell me. But I guess it went back to normal in a few days? Because that was the weekend we all got together, and I would have noticed if they were still mixed up.”
“Cool,” Jimin says, “so I’ve got a few days to be Yoongi-hyung.”
Yoongi groans. “Please don’t do rude things with my body while you’re borrowing it. Or do your naked thing with Taehyung.”
“Hyung! I would never look at your naked body without your permission, no matter who’s in it,” Taehyung says. “But once you’re back, feel free to show it to me any time. I’d be happy to appreciate it for you.”
“That’s my boyfriend,” Jimin says warningly.
“In a suitably non-sexual way, of course!”
Namjoon gamely tries to get them back on track, like this is just one of the many burdens of leadership. “What do the two of you want to do about staff? Are we telling them?”
“Can we just not?” Yoongi asks hopefully. “They’re going to get all worried.” Jimin nods along.
“Three days,” Hoseok says. “After three days, I am going to be worried, and then you have to tell staff.”
Namjoon is flipping through their schedule on his phone making thoughtful noises. “Nothing in the next three days should be a problem to fake. Nothing public, no dance rehearsal. As long as you think you can do a photoshoot.”
“Deal,” Yoongi says.
All their phones buzz in unison, which means there’s a message in the group chat with the managers. twenty minute warning, it says, and the group meeting breaks up as everyone scrambles to get ready to go.
Yoongi heads towards his room automatically, and gets halfway down the hall before realizing that no, he needs to be dressed like Jimin today. He passes Jimin in the hall, who’s got a rueful expression at making the same mistake. “Dress normal!” Yoongi yells. “Pretend to be me!”
“How could I dress fancy, your closet only has black hoodies,” Jimin grumbles. “Honestly you should thank me for dressing you interesting for once.”
In Jimin’s closet, Yoongi grabs the jeans that Jimin’s been wearing all the time lately and a long sleeved shirt more or less at random. They’ve got a photoshoot this morning, so they’ll be changing as soon as they get to work anyway. He tries to picture what Jimin does on casual mornings like this, and settles for a single pair of simple hoops and leaves the rest of his jewelry behind.
For all his threats, Jimin has dressed Yoongi’s body in a pair of joggers and a plain oversized tshirt. “I couldn’t make anything interesting happen in your closet, hyung,” he complains. Yoongi parts his shoulder in consolation for the suffering he’s experiencing.
***
There’s a schedule posted on the wall of the green room at the photoshoot. Jimin’s name is up third, and Yoongi is sixth, so Yoongi goes to change into the wardrobe the stylists have brought for Jimin almost as soon as they arrive. Once changed, it’s into the makeup chair to be draped and have his hair and face done.
Yoongi is grateful they’re at the point in their careers where they’re never expected to have to deal with any of their own hair and makeup before a shoot. He’s not sure he could manage to achieve the carefully managed fake-casual look of Jimin’s hair that he likes these days, not without Jimin right there to tell him what products to use and how to apply them. In the makeup chair, though, it’s the same as it is when he’s Yoongi. He sits, and opens or closes his eyes and mouth when requested, until he’s done. He looks at Jimin’s face in the mirror, but it’s not like he has any feedback beyond recognizing that it’s Jimin’s face made up for photos.
The concept for the shoot is an easy one, relaxed and a little silly. There are balloons and cartoony plastic flowers for him to pose with, and he thinks of Jimin and grabs a handful of the flowers. Yoongi is tense as they start - the photographer keeps telling him to take deep breaths and shake it out - and he has to check the monitors a couple of times to see what the photographer is seeing. The photographer isn’t wrong. He asks for a bottle of water and takes a brief break, trying to picture what Jimin would do in this concept.
Jimin always seems to be able to find an unselfconscious silliness for concepts like these, turning off the self criticism that comes up so often when he’s working and tapping into his normal easy charm. Yoongi isn’t sure he’s quite able to get there, but he thinks about what Jimin would do and tries his best. It must be working, because the photographer switches to just giving him occasional direction on his angles.
He’s finally dismissed, and he heads back to the green room to wait. They’re doing group photos at the end, so he can’t leave just yet. He grabs his phone and curls up in a corner of the couch. It’s weird, mostly because of how much farther he can curl than usual. Yoongi’s flexible enough, but not like this.
When Jimin is up, he grabs Yoongi’s hand. “Come give me advice, hyung.”
Yoongi looks up to see if any of the staff hanging around heard that, but none of them are paying attention. It’s probably not the weirdest thing they’ve ever heard from the group anyway. He lets Jimin drag him up - still not in character as Yoongi, but no one cares - and follows him out to the set. It’s not that common for Yoongi - well, Jimin - to loiter around a set when he’s not actively working, since the novelty of the bright lights has worn off for all of them, but no one’s going to stop him, either.
It should probably be weird watching Jimin pose for the camera in his body, but it doesn’t. Yoongi’s spent years of his life looking at pictures of himself or checking tape in rehearsal or reviewing film from a take of a commercial - and that only counts the things he does for work, not the weirdness of seeing himself on advertisements sometimes. Having Jimin bring the one doing the posing is nothing compared to that.
Except, wait. Yoongi suddenly finds himself with notes. The photographer’s frowning at his camera, so Yoongi figures he’s not going to mind too much if Yoongi interrupts.
“Sorry, sorry, just a minute,” he says, stepping onto set so he can grab Jimin. The photographer steps away, for the kind of privacy you get used to pretending is real when you’re an idol.
“Hyung?” Jimin asks, confused.
Yoongi drags him over to the monitors. “Look at that,” he hisses, trying to keep it so the photographer can’t hear. “Stop doing your sex kitten thing! It looks weird on me.”
Jimin giggles, which comes out as Yoongi’s cackle. “I think you’re a very sexy kitty, hyung.”
“You’re freaking the photographer out. Stop that. Be better at being me.”
“Maybe you should turn over a new leaf,” Jimin yells over his shoulder as he makes his way back to the set. Yoongi will not. He likes all his leaves as-is.
Thankfully, Jimin seems to have gotten the point from his review of the first round of photos, because he settles into the casual look that fits the concept. Yoongi watches him just to be sure, but he doesn’t need to intervene again.
Once Jimin is done, Namjoon is up, so Yoongi goes and gets his phone from the manager who’s been holding on to it so it doesn’t get lost in the chaos of their dressing room. He gets Jimin’s phone, of course, just like he’s been handed Jimin’s phone all day. It’s not a problem, since he just wanted to jot down some notes and he can send himself an email just fine from Jimin’s phone. It does mean, though, he has to cope with the way Jimin’s keyboard is customized with a truly astounding number of emojis. He takes an annoyed selfie and leaves it for Jimin to find later.
There’s a short break as the set gets reset, and then there’s a round of group photos to finish off the morning. The photographer must think they’re losing it, Yoongi thinks, with the sheer number of times he gives them direction and the wrong member responds. It certainly doesn’t help the way Hoseok giggles guiltily after each error, even when he’s not the one making them. The great thing about working with their own staff, though, is that the photographer just waits patiently for them to get it together again.
***
After they’re finally done, they head back to the green room, where there’s a stack of boxed lunches waiting for them. Namjoon politely but firmly manages to get staff to leave them alone long enough to eat, so Yoongi and Jimin can stop pretending for a bit. As soon as the room is clear, Jimin swaps their lunches back, so he has the lunch with his name on it rather than Yoongi’s.
Yoongi opens up his lunch. It’s familiar looking, one of the places staff orders from often, and even before lifting his chopsticks he knows what it’s going to taste like. Except, the problem is, it doesn’t, because exactly nothing about today has gone like it’s supposed to.
Across the table, Jimin is making a face at his lunch too, and holding up a bite for Namjoon, who’s sitting next to him. Namjoon eats it, and shrugs. “Tastes fine to me.”
In the spirit of science, Yoongi offers a bite for Jungkook. Jungkook eats it with the frowny face he makes whenever he’s thinking hard about food. “Seems normal here too,” Jungkook says.
Yoongi tries again, just in case. It’s the same as the first bite - nothing obviously wrong with it, but a little off in some indescribable way. He takes a bite of Jimin’s lunch, just in case it’s Jimin’s body preferring the other meal, but that still tastes weird. He shrugs. It’s not like his lunch is really bad, and he needs to eat. Just one more weird thing about today, he supposes. Across the table, Jimin is making the same calculation. Honestly, weird lunch isn’t even that weird compared to everything else.
Namjoon is staring at them with obvious fascination. Finally, he can’t keep it in anymore. “It’s too bad you both like spicy food,” he blurts out.
“Explain, Joon-ah,” Yoongi says. Namjoon is always like this, two steps ahead of them and not realizing no one else has caught up yet. Yoongi’s so fond of him.
“Well, it’s one of the great unanswered questions of our understanding of consciousness, right? If you learn everything there is to know about a sensation, is that the same as experiencing it? And do we all experience sensations the same way?”
“So since I don’t like my lunch, even though I usually do, we can assume it’s something about Jimin’s taste buds that I’m not used to.”
“You’d certainly think you’d have enough familiarity with his tongue,” Seokjin mutters.
Namjoon ignores him. “Right! So there’s something about the experience that is part from the body and part from the mind.”
“If I ever bodyswap I’ll let you watch as I eat spicy food,” Taehyung volunteers. “For science.”
“Thanks, Taehyung-ah,” Namjoon says earnestly. “I just think it’d be really fascinating to learn more about.”
“Unless you swap with me!” Hoseok says, giggling. “Then we’d still learn nothing.”
Namjoon looks weirdly heartbroken by the idea that he still might not learn anything about the nature of consciousness. Yoongi just keeps eating his lunch.
***
There’s gym time on the schedule after lunch, for those of them that do that, and Jimin makes an increasingly desperate series of gestures at Namjoon until he sighs and once again convinces staff - the trainer this time - that they’ll be fine on their own.
“Now he thinks we’re going to be doing something weird in here,” Namjoon complains, as he and Jungkook take turns spotting each other at the bench press. “It would have been fine, you guys know each other’s routines. Ooh, looking good, Kook-ah, way to work those pecs.”
“It would not have been fine, hyung doesn’t know how I like to stretch.”
“We all know how you like to stretch,” Jungkook complains, and Yoongi kind of has to agree. It’s not like Jimin is shy about his flexibility, or has any qualms about stretching in the middle of the living room floor.
Jimin ignores them. “Hyung, come show me the shoulder exercises you do.”
Yoongi demonstrates, skeptical. “Don’t you do these too?”
“Yeah, but, you know,” Jimin says. Yoongi stares blankly at him. “Hyung, you have to tell me what to watch out for. With your shoulder.”
“Oh, Jimin-ah, you don’t have to - it’s fine these days, hyung promises.”
“Tell me anyway.”
Yoongi points out the places his shoulder used to hurt and what Jimin needs to watch out for, and where it aches sometimes that isn’t a problem. Jimin takes the whole thing in with deeply focused intensity, like he’s learning a dance solo. “But really, it’s fine,” Yoongi concludes.
“I’m not going to break your body for you, hyung.”
Their workout ends up being weird and disjointed - while Yoongi knows generally what Jimin likes to do in the gym, he doesn’t know how much weight or how many reps, and Jimin has the same problem, so they’re constantly having to stop to check in with each other about the details. It would probably be annoying for Namjoon and Jungkook, if not for their own weird focus they get. Yoongi’s stopped asking questions, really.
Jimin insists that Yoongi finish the workout with a long stretching routine. In contrast to the rest of the workout, he doesn’t ask for Yoongi’s advice on what kind of stretching Yoongi’s body needs.
“If we’re stuck like this for three days, I’m going to fix your hamstrings, hyung,” Jimin says. “I promise, it’ll be so much better once you lose that tightness.”
Yoongi kind of feels like he should protest that his hamstrings are just fine the way they are, but Jimin is the expert here. Also, Yoongi is too busy being freaked out at being able to wrap his hands around his feet when he tries to touch his toes. Jimin’s toes. Whatever.
***
After they shower, Yoongi grabs Jimin’s arm and says, in his best imitation of Jimin’s beseeching tone, “hyung, didn’t you say you were going to help me with my song?”
Jimin rolls his eyes at him, but leads the way to Yoongi’s studio anyway. “You realize they all think we’re running off to fuck, right?” he asks while waiting for Yoongi to enter the code.
“Ick,” Yoongi says primly. “In the studio?” Jimin just laughs at him with the knowing air of someone who’s gotten up to plenty of fooling around in Yoongi’s studio. It’s not like Yoongi is really that opposed, but he has stuff to work on and it’s fun to wind up Jimin sometimes.
“Okay, hyung,” Jimin says once they’re inside. “Why did you drag me off here?”
“I’ve got work to do!” Yoongi says. “I had this idea, and I need to get it written down.”
“You nerd,” Jimin says fondly, like he’s never stayed late in the dance studios past midnight because he was caught up in what he was working on. “But, just to be clear, we are going to fuck at some point, right? Because I really want to try your dick out.” He gestures with Yoongi’s hips, in a way that Yoongi is pretty sure he couldn’t move no matter how many dance lessons he gets. It’s a compelling argument.
“Yeah,” he says, throat gone dry all of a sudden. Jimin can hear it and he’s smirking down at him. “But once we start I won’t want to stop and I really need to finish this first.”
“Have fun.” He kisses Yoongi on the cheek and then settles in on the couch with his phone. He’s not posing, except how Park Jimin is always posing a little bit. Yoongi turns his chair back to his computer and tried to not think about it.
It takes Yoongi three tries to type in the password on his computer because he keeps hitting the wrong keys, or two keys at once - his brain still has the muscle memory, or whatever, but in Jimin’s hands it’s not quite the same on the keyboard. Luckily, there isn’t much typing in what he needs to do, so it’s fine if he has to type extra slowly to get it right.
He works for a while, adding and rearranging until the beat sounds more like the idea in his head. It’s something, he thinks - not sure exactly what yet, but it has the potential to be something. It needs a melody, though, so he turns to the piano keyboard to his left so he can rough something in. He’ll touch it up later, maybe experiment with recording a real piano on this part, but his keyboard will do for now.
Except, as it turns out there’s a problem here. “Your hands are too small,” he hisses at Jimin as he tries to reach for a chord with a full octave and fails.
“That’s not what you said yesterday,” Jimin says. “In fact you were very complimentary about my hands.” He tries to pull off an offended look, but it lasts for about three seconds before he’s laughing again.
Yoongi glares at Jimin’s hands for a moment, although he does have to admit that Jimin is correct and he had gotten off yesterday babbling about how good Jimin’s hands were as Jimin fingered him. It’s fine, though. He can make this work if he has to. He can always redo it when he’s back in his own body.
He lays down a guide track for the vocals, just to see what the song is like with a rough vocal line, even without lyrics. It’s fascinating when he plays it back. It sounds like him, but also like Jimin. It’s the color of Jimin’s voice, but in shapes that Jimin never uses. He wonders if he could reproduce it later, maybe with some blend of the two of them.
“Hey, can you help me out?” he asks, getting an idea.
“Hyung, I’m working on lyrics,” Jimin says innocently, but when Yoongi turns around he sees Jimin isn’t even bothering to pretend to work on his own stuff. Yoongi may be the most easily fascinated of all of them by the way he can manipulate sounds, but they’re all musicians for a reason.
He plays back his recording for Jimin, through the speakers and not his headphones this time. Jimin makes a strange face as he listens.
“That’s so weird,” he says. “It’s me, but not me.”
“You wanna try?” Yoongi asks, although he doesn’t need to ask from the way Jimin is already pulling up the spare chair to the desk.
They trade parts back and forth, both sung and rapped, with only a brief break for dinner. (Still weird, Yoongi thinks, but easier now that he knew it was going to be weird and didn’t order one of his usuals.) Yoongi makes sure to carefully save every take - he doesn’t know yet what he’s going to do with them, but since he doesn’t know how many evenings they’ll have before they switch back, he doesn’t want to waste anything.
***
They could stay in the studio for a long time, but the nice thing about dating someone in your band is that it tends to get you out of the studio so you can go home and fuck when the tension in the studio gets to be too much. (They fool around in the studio too - you can’t blame Yoongi, Jimin is very hot and sometimes he can’t wait - but it’s better when there’s a bed.)
Hoseok finds it a relief that they both keep more regular schedules now. Seokjin does too, but Yoongi tries not to laugh whenever he sees Seokjin carefully erasing from his mind the reason that Yoongi is home at a decent hour.
Namely, getting naked with Park Jimin. Who, right now, is naked in Yoongi’s body in Yoongi’s bed. He’s touching his - Yoongi’s - cock lightly, experimenting with the different feel.
“Oh, hyung, it feels so good when I rub right here,” Jimin says. He’s got his legs spread wide so he can show off just how he’s touching himself.
“You knew that already,” Yoongi complains as he takes off his earrings. “You know everything I like.”
“Damn right I do,” Jimin says. “Hyung, are you going to give me a show?” he asks as Yoongi pulls off his shirt.
“Absolutely not,” Yoongi says. He knows when there’s a competition he can’t win. “If you want to see yourself perform a striptease, you can do it yourself when you get your body back.” But if Yoongi bends over and arches his back more than necessary to take his jeans off, well, Jimin doesn’t say anything about it.
“Maybe I will,” Jimin says, which somehow sounds like a threat. “I’ll take video and send it to you,” and that’s definitely a threat. Yoongi resolves to be very careful opening his messages in public for a while.
Jimin tugs him down into the bed once he’s naked. He uses a little more force than he needs, since he’s used to Yoongi being broader than him, and Yoongi just barely misses landing with an elbow in Jimin’s belly. Jimin just laughs. “Hyung, you’re so much stronger than me.”
Yoongi kisses him. “You wanna try all that strength out, then?”
“Can I fuck you, hyung? It’ll be so good, you have to try it.”
“You fuck me all the time, I know it’s good.”
“Yeah, but not like this,” Jimin says, and Yoongi has to admit he has a point. For all that they’ve done everything, they’ve never done this before.
Jimin barely bothers fingering Yoongi, which Yoongi thinks about complaining about until he realizes that Jimin knows better what his body needs. He pushes Yoongi’s legs open and up, and that’s still a surprise, how far Jimin’s body bends.
“Trust me, hyung, this is the best angle,” Jimin says.
Yoongi has had plenty of sex, with Jimin and with other people - topping, bottoming, whatever. He figures he has a pretty good idea of the range of sensations you can get from mostly-vanilla sex. So he’s not expecting it to feel that different in Jimin’s body than in his own.
It is different. He gasps as Jimin pushes in. Something about the stretch and the feeling is sharper in Jimin’s body. Yoongi closes his eyes to let himself get used to it as Jimin keeps working his way deeper.
“Good, right?” Jimin says when Yoongi opens his eyes again. He looks deeply smug about it.
“Stop looking like that,” Yoongi grumbles. “You’re not personally responsible for the nerve endings in your ass, you have nothing to be proud about here.”
Jimin ignores him, just as Yoongi expected, and starts to move. He gradually loses the smug expression as he gets more into it, and the way Yoongi’s hands on hips urge him on. Unfortunately, that means it’s replaced with what can only be described as a sex face. Normally, Yoongi likes Jimin’s sex faces, but this is too weird. He hasn’t been bothered by anything else about seeing Jimin in his body, since he’s so used to seeing his body in recordings and hearing his voice on tape, but he’s never had to see his sex face from the outside before.
Jimin doesn’t seem to be bothered in the same way. He runs a thumb over Yoongi’s cheek and over his lips as he makes Yoongi gasp with a particularly well aimed thrust.
“Are you getting off on watching yourself?” Yoongi demands. He means to sound derisive but his voice goes all breathy in the middle, which undermines the cut of it.
“I’m hot,” Jimin says, like it should be obvious.
“Oh my god,” Yoongi says. “I’m going to install mirrors on the ceiling or something, what the fuck.”
“If you’re planning home renovations I’m not working hard enough,” Jimin says, and promptly starts to work harder. Yoongi tries to keep up his patter, but he can’t do it when every other sound that comes out of his mouth is a moan.
Jimin barely has to wrap his hand around Yoongi’s cock and he’s coming. Usually Jimin pulls out after that, but this time he keeps going, fucking into Yoongi in a way that sends shivery sensations up and down Yoongi’s spine, but not in a bad way. It’s pleasantly overwhelming, and Yoongi runs one hand down Jimin’s side in encouragement. Jimin’s hips stutter in a way that feels very familiar to Yoongi from the other side, and Jimin collapses over Yoongi as he comes with a moan into Yoongi’s neck.
When he’s caught his breath, Jimin pulls out and flops down onto the bed next to Yoongi, almost on top of him. Yoongi rolls onto his side so he can lean down to kiss Jimin gently. Jimin hums contentedly up into his mouth as Yoongi runs his fingers through his hair.
“That was nice,” Jimin says. “We should keep experimenting sometime.”
“Sure,” Yoongi says. “Go to sleep, I can tell you’re halfway there already.” He knows that feeling well, how his body decides that an orgasm is the last push he needs to fall asleep, and it looks like Jimin is getting tugged down in the same way.
Jimin kisses him once more, then tucks himself under Yoongi’s chin. It’s such a characteristic Jimin gesture that Yoongi has to laugh into the top of Jimin’s head, seeing it from his body.
Jimin falls asleep almost immediately, and Yoongi lets himself drift for a while, warm and cozy and very well fucked. It’s weird, this bodyswap thing, but it hasn’t changed anything that’s really important.
***
Yoongi wakes up slowly. Jimin’s hair is tickling his nose, and as much as he doesn’t want to move, he has to rearrange them a little so he doesn’t start sneezing.
“Don’t get up,” Jimin mumbles.
“I’m not, lazy bones,” Yoongi mumbles back. It’s easy. This is a familiar routine whenever they get a morning without schedules. Jimin’s shape pressed into Yoongi’s side is comfortable in its familiarity.
Yoongi is half way back asleep when it hits him - this feels familiar. Not like it had yesterday, when everything had felt slightly off all day. He opens his eyes. Yes, that’s Jimin, and those are his own hands when he holds them up.
“Jimin!” he says, louder. “It’s over. We’re back.”
Jimin reaches up to his own face without opening his eyes to check the shape of his jaw and mouth. Yoongi can see the moment he realizes it, when he relaxes back into bed in relief.
“Should we go check on the others? To make sure no one else swapped?” Jimin asks.
Yoongi thinks about it for a minute. “Nah,” he says. “They can deal with it.”