Chapter Text
The first time Jimin encountered a Gryffindor that he actually spoke to, he was only a second year, and the much older boy thought it would be funny to ask him which one of his family members had been complicit to genocide.
That was why it didn’t at all surprise him when he got catcalled while walking past the last pack of rambunctious students in the great hall after a big quidditch game.
There was a whole pack of them—all Gryffindors, of course—who had been singing and yelling since entering post-game spirits, seeming to gravitate around this one guy with long-ish, curly, black hair, who had the whitest teeth Jimin had ever seen.
Jimin had been sitting unassumingly on the edge of one of the long tables, finishing up his Charms homework with his favourite quill. He liked the bright lights in the Great Hall, lending to a better reading environment than the dim, green-hued shades of the Slytherin common room. They were soothing, but not particularly conducive to reading. He hadn’t even noticed that everyone from the other houses had left, and it was just him and this residual group of spiked red and gold testosterone left.
With this in mind, Jimin tried to get up as inconspicuously as possible, pushing his books into his rucksack and tidying his spot. It didn’t take long for him to catch the attention of the Gryffindor boys, however, try as much as he did to not do so.
He could feel the eyes glued to the back of his head and his shoulders, a small but significant quietening of their goings on as he stepped by them, making haste for the door.
No such luck, it seemed.
“Want a ride on the champion’s broomstick, baby?” A Gryffindor boy with light brown hair said to him exactly as he passed, slapping the chest of the black haired guy that everyone had been crowding around just minutes earlier.
“He wouldn’t, surely,” another Gryffindor boy laughed, looking Jimin up and down. Jimin could feel his skin crawl already. “I wouldn’t let one of them anywhere near my cock. He’d touch it and suddenly I’m speaking Parseltongue.”
The small group of them laughed amongst themselves, leaving Jimin to stand painfully awkward by himself, unsure if walking away or staying out would cause him the most trouble.
He settled rather quickly for walking away, his palms clamming up and his eyes feeling tender as he played back the vulgar words of his peers. It was the most vulgar he’d gotten from Gryffindors so far, but he supposed a few drops of liquid courage in the form of alcohol would do much to loosen the tongue.
“Hey, wait up!” he heard called after him as he stalked down the halls towards the dungeons. He looked behind himself briefly. The black haired ‘champion’ was following him, his face looking tense but also vaguely pink. “Pretty boy!”
Jimin slowed to a halt before reaching the stairs that would take him below ground, turning back around slowly and with much hesitancy. He wasn’t sure why exactly he was giving this guy the time of day, let alone his energy for a conversation.
“What do you want?” Jimin murmured, his eyes trained down on the ground as he found himself unable to look the guy in the eyes. All he’d wanted was a quiet evening of studying. Leave it to a Gryffindor to find some way to ruin his day.
“I’m sorry about them,” the guy said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. He looked embarrassed, but also carried himself like he knew he was hot shit, which voided any sympathy Jimin had for him in a few seconds flat. “They’ve had a little too much butterbeer and really need their attitudes checked. I suspect they’ve also been hit in the head pretty hard to get so brazen. Definitely not okay to bother you like that.”
“You can skip the virtue signaling and go back to your friends, you know. I’m not a charity case,” Jimin said, his thighs feeling tense and his neck clammy as his heart raced in his defensive state. He wondered if this boy could see him sweating despite attempting to maintain a tough exterior.
“Skip the what?” The Gryffindor asked, looking genuinely confused, and Jimin had to bite back a smart retort. It was really fitting that a Gryffindor wouldn’t understand big words. If they spent as much time studying as they did running around with broomsticks, maybe Jimin wouldn’t have to be having this awkward conversation in the first place.
“Never mind,” he finished, loosening his shoulders and turning back on heel, his feet itching to print away.
“Wait—” The Gryffindor seemed to try again, but Jimin was already shuffling out of earshot, shoes clacking down the cobbled hall as his books were drawn so close to his chest the spines almost cut into his ribs.
*
It didn’t get any better when the next day—in potions class, of all things—Jimin spotted a familiar mop of black hair walking towards him halfway through their lecture.
They’d been learning about brewing a Draught of Peace, a continuation of potions and ingredients they’d been managing for months. Jimin had been halfway to thinking about getting the syrup of hellebore from the far corner cupboard, when he realized he was supposed to be partnered up, and someone had come and stood in front of him.
“Hey! You’re the pretty Slytherin from yesterday,” the boy said with a big grin, and Jimin had to squeeze back the urge to roll his eyes.
Instead, he could feel his face heat up, clutching his quill tighter in his fingers. Truth was, he was scared of another asshole bothering him in class. He tended to stick to people in his own house. Not for any insidious reasons, but largely people in other houses made him feel inferior, or looked at him like he was dirty somehow.
He spared a glance at Junho, sitting two desks behind him, who gave him a sympathetic grimace upon seeing his partner.
“I’m Jungkook, by the way. Gryffindor quidditch team captain.”
Jimin finally worked up the courage to whip his head back around, staring up at Jungkook through his fringe and lashes, like he was afraid of seeing him full-on.
Oh...so this was the muggle-born wizard everyone had been talking about since last year. Despite being muggle-born, he was quite accomplished both sport wise and spell wise, from what Jimin had heard. Maybe he wasn’t the worst potions partner, after all. Though something about Jungkook’s ability to make good of himself despite all odds made Jimin’s perfectionist upbringing feel all the more wasted.
“Right,” Jimin said quietly, staring at his notebook. “I’m Jimin. Just Jimin.”
He could feel the grin and the beaming energy from above him almost exalt.
“Alright, Just Jimin. It’s a pleasure being your potions partner this fine morning.”
Jimin assumed that if Jungkook had to say anything to him that day, of course it would be something exaggerated that he couldn’t tell whether was a derision or a genuine comment.
Jimin tried to keep to himself, for the most part, the duration of the time they brewed. Problem was, the lack of communication made it feel like they were making two separate potions. And Jungkook seemed to be dying to start a conversation.
He thought about giving in and telling Jungkook what they had to do, until he felt a warm hand on his shoulder.
“Alright, I’ll get the powdered moonstone. I move around for a living, after all,” Jungkook joked, before winking down at him the second Jimin looked up. “Don’t want you running around when you could be sitting there looking pretty while reading.”
“Do you have an off switch?” Jimin asked, gobsmacked as he squinted up at Jungkook. His broad shoulder muscles flexed under Jimin’s gaze, as if he could tell Jimin was looking.
“Only if you’ll press it for me,” Jungkook grinned, looking at Jimin through his curls.
Jimin didn’t mean to get clammed up from speaking to this guy. He really didn’t. But under that intense gaze, sitting next to him and faintly smelling the scent of his musky cologne and some residual sweat, Jimin could feel himself get lightheaded. And not only that, but Jimin felt like he only just blinked, and Jungkook was there with every ingredient they needed.
“I’ll stop bothering you if you want me to,” Jungkook said, and he sounded sincere and a little deflated, like he’d been thinking about saying that all the way to the cupboard and back. Jimin glanced left to look at his face. It was relaxed, but strained, as if a little hesitant. “But I’m kind of hoping you don’t want me to. Even though I’m just a big Gryffindor dummy who can’t mix an elixir.”
“You’re not bothering me that bad,” Jimin claimed, and knew as soon as he let that slip out of his mouth and he saw Jungkook grinning out of the corner of his eyes just that little bit that that was the tiny crack of a chance he wanted. “Just a little.”
“Wait til you see me tripping over polyjuice potion to walk you to your next class,” Jungkook continued smoothly, and Jimin could tell one of his brows were raised out of the corner of his eye.
He had to bite back a smile, absolutely hating himself. For all their obnoxious bravado, at least this Gryffindor was some modicum of fun. And had yet to look at him like he would unleash a crate of snakes and imminent death at any given moment.
*
It would be an understatement to say that everyone stared at them as Jungkook dropped him off at the Astronomy tower, large and hovering and clingy as he waited for Jimin to walk inside. He could feel a few jealous stares of the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff girls that usually sat next to him, so sure they were smitten with the Gryffindor team captain like everyone else was. Though, strangely, he could also see a few stares from a few of his peers in Slytherin; the boys specifically, as if Jungkook’s hovering near him was offensive in and of itself.
Jimin spent the rest of classes in a mild daze, black curls and the faint scent of cloves seeming to follow him wherever he went, like an intangible parting gift.
The daze and scent dwindled, however, and by the end of the day, Jimin was left in the crevices of sweaty bodies marching in clusters towards their common rooms.
The shadows of all the bodies followed behind him as he stepped, though a blockade of what seemed like two sturdy chests stopped in front of him, causing him to stutter back in his steps. He hadn’t even walked far from his last class.
“Slimy whore,” he heard muttered under someone’s breath, his gaze rising up to meet the piercing eyes of two Gryffindor boys, staring directly at him.
In his shock, he felt himself stumble two steps backwards, his feet feeling unsteady and his hands weak. They pushed past him with much finality, almost scoffing as they went.
Jimin felt his throat closing and opening, his head disoriented with a dizzy feeling he hadn’t felt in a while. He blinked back a blazing hot onset of wetness, his chest tight with the defiance of his years of resistance to Gryffindor sleaze, suddenly so full frontal to him.
They’d caused a bit of a scene. Jimin could only stand there in a moment of utter disorientation as he saw some of the clusters of people from different houses staring at him.
Then, it seemed, he couldn’t run fast enough.
*
It didn’t take Jimin long to reach the common room. By the time he’d slipped in, cloak billowing behind him, at least a few people were there to see him shuffle inside.
Last but not least, of course, was Hoseok.
“They’re not nice, you know. Gryffindors.”
It was just about the first thing that was said to him as soon as he returned, his hand clutching the flower that Jungkook had somehow managed to pass him as he was leaving Ancient Runes to stimulate himself to comfort. Now that Jimin thought about it, had that been the cue for the nasty Gryffindor comments? He couldn’t really be sure. But in his head, he felt like they didn’t even need an occasion to bother him.
Hoseok placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and Jimin finally snapped out of his whirlwind of thoughts. Head Boy and Slytherin extraordinaire, Hoseok seemed to carry a certain distaste for Gryffindors more than most in their house. While Jimin couldn’t blame him, it often felt like it came from a fiercely over-protective place when it came to him, specifically. He would always be grateful for Hoseok’s lended ears whenever he needed a shoulder to cry on. He had been there for him since he was a first year, doting on Jimin as he navigated life in a new school.
Hoseok sighed, frown deepening and tucking some stray hair behind Jimin’s ear. Jimin knew how frazzled he looked, and wouldn’t disregard it. Hoseok could probably already figure out what was going on.
“Best not to mix with their kind. Gives them an excuse to hide behind that glorious reputation of theirs in a fit of selfish stints.”
Jimin looked away, eyes hard and mouth pressed tight. Hoseok had already given him this lecture before. Maybe it was Jimin’s fault for somehow ending up disregarding it. Hoseok sighed again. Jimin heard the familiar creak of the giant squid floating somewhere near their windows in the background.
“I’m worried about you, is all. It’s my job as a Slytherin prefect to ensure the happiness and welfare of everyone in our house.”
Jimin’s jaw clenched as he remembered how he’d felt only moments ago in the corridor. It was a different kind of unease to never know if people looked at him in fear, disgust, or contempt.
“Does it ever get easier?” he pressed out, his mind doing massive somersaults as he squeezed his flower, letting it fall to the floor when he considered the rogue possibility that Jungkook could have told the two Gryffindor boys to torment him. Was that too paranoid? Jimin felt like it was, but the tight feeling in his chest didn’t seem to be able to rule anything out.
Another squeeze on his shoulder, and a gentle nudge. Hoseok seemed to usher him back up to his room.
“You should rest for a bit. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”
*
Coming face-to-face with Jungkook the next day was weird, to say the least. At no fault of Jungkook’s, technically, Jimin was clammy and on edge the entirety of potions class, too out of it to even do his part in the ingredient preparation. Jungkook was standing in front of him, already working on cutting up the lionfish spines.
“Jimin?” He heard above him, and he flinched automatically. Jungkook was looking down at him with his big, expressive eyes, his hair swept out of them for the first time in a while. He looked exceedingly concerned. “Are you okay?”
“Sorry, I don’t…” Jimin trailed off. He wasn’t sure what to even say. You make me uncomfortable? I’m borderline scared of you, and my trust issues have only multiplied since yesterday? I discarded the flower you gave me, and it makes me feel both nauseous and sad? “I’m not feeling great.”
“Oh,” Jungkook just said, the corners of his mouth tipping down ever so slightly.
Jimin felt bad that he was expecting more teasing, more bravado or pressing in a way that would hurt. He almost tensed his stomach to prepare for it.
But it didn’t come. Instead, the quidditch captain looked serious, shoving some of the ingredients from Jimin’s ‘side’ of the desk to his.
“Don’t worry; I’ll finish the brewing,” he said, casting Jimin a small smile. It was so warm and gentle Jimin almost felt his face heat up. But then the guilt set in, for sitting there and thinking Jungkook could be mean to him, still. Could turn around and laugh in his face even though he had always regarded him kindly. “I can make a scene if you want to run back to your common room?”
“No, I—”
“Professor!” Jungkook exclaimed, his demeanor changing instantly as he straightened up. “I spilled some of the angel’s trumpet—Jimin’s skin is turning red!”
Their old, rather short potions master looked about ready to scream, and waved his arms around as he yelled for them to get to the infirmary.
Jimin felt himself being pulled up and out of his chair, Jungkook sprinting towards the door as if it was a matter of life or death. The good thing about being pulled out of class, he supposed, was that the knot in his stomach didn’t stand a chance when he was being forced to run like his life depended on it.
“Jung—” he tried to start, but Jungkook kept them running, not stopping until their cloaks swished around the corner of the staircase, the both of them stumbling into a hallway just above ground floor.
“Better you feeling not great out here than in there,” Jungkook offered, sitting Jimin down on the marble bench by the window to the outside grounds.
“That was very reckless and irresponsible of you,” Jimin said, but even he could hear how half-hearted he sounded, and quietened even more as the Gryffindor sat down next to him, hovering quite close.
“But seriously, can I help?” Jungkook tried again. He was leaning his arm and elbow against the wall, and he looked terribly handsome in that position. Jimin wondered if he was fucked up enough for the slight fear he had morphing with Jungkook’s confidence, which made him feel a little weak-kneed where he sat. He was lucky he wasn’t standing. “You seemed okay yesterday.”
Jimin chewed on his bottom lip, half expecting the two Gryffindor’s he’d had the displeasure of running into sprouting from behind the corner. Jungkook seemed to notice him glancing around, because he waved a hand in front of Jimin’s face.
“Jimin?”
Jimin blinked, staring back down at his lap. He supposed Jungkook wouldn’t be so persistent with him if he didn’t actually care. Unless he was really, really fucked up. But he just felt like the steady timbre of Jungkook’s voice was too soothing to be anything but genuine.
“I was cornered by some guys yesterday and...they said some mean things to me.”
“Guys? Mean things?” Jungkook repeated, as if to show he was listening, while also trying to pry further to understand why Jimin was acting so skittish. His eyes were sharper now, his hands gripping a little near the bench.
“To do with my being a Slytherin, and, um, likely also being around you.”
“What?” Jungkook just gaped, like he had no idea what he was talking about, and he didn’t understand how them being around each other was controversial. “Who? Who said something?”
“Gryffindors,” Jimin clarified, eyeing the house crest on Jungkook’s cape without meaning to.
Jungkook’s brows knotted, his big, expressive eyes pinching.
“What did they say?”
“I don’t want to tell you,” Jimin mumbled, trying to put as much finality into it as he could. But Jungkook seemed to have gotten fired up, his stance growing more closed.
“Who was it? What did they look like?” Jungkook pressed, and Jimin almost had to snort, finding it funny but also slightly endearing that the Gryffindor hard-headedness was coming out in this situation.
“It doesn’t matter,” Jimin tried to placate, feeling more and more embarrassed the more he thought about it.
Jungkook seemed like he wanted to push further, but then reconsidered after looking at Jimin’s face.
“It matters to me,” Jungkook said rather quietly. He shifted a little where he sat. “Whatever they did clearly hurt you, and that’s unacceptable. If they’re on the quidditch team, I’ll have them out. If not, I’ll get a prefect on it.”
“Just leave it,” Jimin murmured, flattening out the crease in his robes. “It’s happened before, and it’ll probably keep happening. It just doesn’t feel good walking around here and being looked at like I’m a walking eyesore.”
“Why would anyone think that?” Jungkook sounded almost affronted, and while Jimin appreciated his solidarity, he felt like Jungkook couldn’t possibly not know about the discrimination that Slytherins faced.
Jimin just stared at his hands. He didn’t often necessarily wish he was in another house. But in that moment, maybe he did. Maybe he would be easier to be around.
“Do you still have my daisy?”
Jimin looked up, shaking himself from his thoughts again.
“What?”
“The daisy I gave you,” Jungkook clarified, and Jimin could almost feel his hand near his head as he leaned closer. He felt his heart patter a little faster in his chest. “It was supposed to be charmed to hover and twirl in the air, but I guess I did it wrong…”
Jimin stared at the quidditch captain, feeling worse now than ever for dropping the flower in his fit of insecurity yesterday.
“Sorry, I-I think I misplaced it,” Jimin said hurriedly, but he felt his body turn to face Jungkook’s as he spoke.
Jungkook just shrugged, offering him another good-natured grin, as if he had a million of those in reserve for any moment.
“No matter. I’ll get you a new one. Two, even.”
Jungkook had gotten up already, extending a hand out for Jimin to take, as if beckoning him somewhere. There had been a lot of spontaneous hand holding between them the past few days, and Jimin felt like he was the only one who found it bizarre.
“Come on!” Jungkook urged, wiggling his hand in a demanding manner. “We’ve already skipped class, haven’t we? What’s another ten minutes?”
Jimin felt like, for that one moment, he was able to almost entirely drown out the little part inside of him that was hesitant; that was still scared.
He took Jungkook’s hand, and before he knew it, they were off.
*
It wasn’t that far to the outskirts of the quidditch grounds, but it was far enough. Jungkook had walked him there while telling him all about the games he played, before asking Jimin if he was good at flying himself. Jimin had blushed and said he had only flown at school, and so he was well behind most. Jungkook promised to take him flying one day. Jungkook promised they would do quite a list of things, actually.
Once they finally found the little patch of daisies that Jungkook seemed to help himself from, he watched the Gryffindor pick a pair of them, before casting a hovering charm. They flew up in a small twirl, winding around each other. Jimin was unable to hold back a smile, especially because this was what Jungkook had been so insistent on him seeing. To be fair, it was pretty. And quite a clever use of magic. Jimin wouldn’t complain, though he still had the shivers from leaving a class on false pretenses like that. Maybe it was for the better that some of the Gryffindor recklessness rubbed off on him. He hadn’t had this much fun in a while, and it was almost making him forget about the other day.
“Are people really talking about me being around you?” Jungkook asked while he, too, stared at the flowers, seeming kind of happy about what he’d just said.
Jimin nodded, his cheeks burning so badly he didn’t whatsoever want to know what he looked like in that moment. He could, nonetheless, feel Jungkook’s victorious grin widening near him.
“Well, all the better for me,” Jungkook continued. “The more they talk, the less chance some smarmy loser has to steal you from right under my nose.”
“Steal me?” Jimin snorted, touching the green stem tips of the dancing daisies as they swirled. “Am I yours?”
“Not yet,” Jungkook said, and he had the decency to blush a little himself, despite his triumphant grin. “But I have time and hope.”
The two of them stayed there way beyond Charms and even Ancient Runes that day. Jimin realized more and more why people were so drawn to Jungkook. Sure, lots of boys and girls kept an eye on Jimin, too, but Jungkook was just so overwhelmingly genuine that it was difficult not to smile around him.
*
The chink in Jimin’s confidence felt like only a fluke beyond that day, mostly thanks to Jungkook taking reassuring him very seriously. Jimin had returned to the Slytherin common room with the daisies hovering around him, giddy and flustered in the most muted way he could be, so as not to come off as suspicious. Much to Hoseok’s dismay, who Jimin almost felt like could smell the Gryffindor wafting off of him.
Jungkook had told Jimin before they parted ways that he was interested in the giant squid that always greeted them at their common room windows, and Jimin, who had an interest in magical creatures and horticulture, happily loaned a book from the library to read up on to tell Jungkook some more facts about the creatures they got to see on a daily basis.
“Don’t stay up too late,” Hoseok said, coming closer to him as he aimed for the spiral staircase that led up to bed. The caring sigh was there, the one he usually sent Jimin for extra support. He seemed to have backed down from his nagging momentarily as he placed a warm cup of tea on the table Jimin was reading on by the fireplace. He offered a gentle smile, and when Jimin drank a sip of the hot liquid, he couldn’t help but smile back.
*
Despite waking up with a massive headache, likely from staying up all night and reading, Jimin was happy to get used to Jungkook waiting for him outside his common room to walk him to class.
He felt like some of the things that had annoyed him about Jungkook before weren’t so bad anymore now that he had his guard down. Though he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to the stares they got when walking as a pair.
“I think they’re all jealous of me because you’re so pretty,” Jungkook offered him, likely aware of how Jimin felt about being stared at.
He threw a relaxed arm around Jimin’s shoulders, keeping their pace as he carried both of their books to their next class, of which they had a surprisingly large amount of together. Jungkook was wearing his red and gold quidditch jumper, and Jimin could feel the swell of his pecs against his back, along with the wool scratching his neck.
“I think my life would be easier if it didn’t always look like you were parading me around,” Jimin groaned, seeing a particularly angry-looking girl from the Gryffindor quidditch team measure him up as they walked past.
“I said I had time to make you mine, not that I would falter for someone else to step in,” Jungkook chuckled, squeezing Jimin at the shoulder pointedly.
Jimin bit back a small grin, secretly liking how tiny he felt in Jungkook’s warm hold. He wasn’t stupid either: it didn’t take a genius to figure out that it was likely Jungkook walked him around so much because nobody in their right mind would have the nerve to bother Jimin when he was around.
*
Watching Jungkook walk around with his broomstick the few times he wasn’t posturing with Jimin in tow was an experience in and of itself, too. Though Jungkook had invited him to see him play several times. Jimin was vaguely worried that he might find Jungkook playing the game too overwhelming and end up looking an embarrassing shade of red again. Or, more likely, that Jungkook would do something cheesy and stupid to embarrass him with some sort of claim in front of the entire school.
That didn’t stop him from fawning around Jungkook after his matches, however, which was exactly how he found himself running up to Jungkook and beaming at him after a particularly long match, which Jimin had spent revising in the library.
“Let’s sneak into my common room,” Jimin said happily, something he’d been mulling over for a while after Jungkook had expressed interest in the squid.
Jungkook didn’t say much as Jimin led him down the corridors to the dungeons. They’d been wandering the halls aimlessly for way too long on the regular, and Jimin wanted to show Jungkook something cool, for once. Show him that he could be fun, too. That he did, in fact, have some pride as a Slytherin.
“Slytherin is playing Ravenclaw now, so nobody will be in. Gryffindor isn’t the only house really into flying around in the air with balls.”
“That’s what you think I do?” Jungkook said with a smirk, stopping them in the corridor and leaning his arm over Jimin’s head on one of the walls, preposterously. Jimin could smell the vague remnants of sweat from his game. He hated himself for not hating that smell. “I use my big bat to beat, baby. It’s all about getting into that hole.”
Jimin rolled his eyes, pushing at Jungkook’s elbow so he sagged against the wall.
“God, you’re so tactless. Why do all the girls like you again?” Jimin mumbled, before dragging Jungkook to the entrance.
“Do they?” Jungkook asked, clearly knowing they did. Jimin hated that he liked the playful edge to his voice when he got like that, too. “Even the Slytherin girls? Just a little bit?”
Jimin gave him a pointed look as he said the common room password, letting them both slip inside.
“Not after I tell them about how much of a conceited git you are.”
“It’s so cute that you’re jealous,” Jungkook cooed, and Jimin could hear the playful tone in his voice—could feel it over his body, even—but it didn’t quite make it to Jungkook’s eyes. Jimin could swear his eyes were edged with a tender sheen, softer than anything he had ever seen in a Gryffindor’s eyes before.
As they walked inside, Jungkook crowded him against another wall, slightly less playful this time. The green hue of the floating lights illuminated his handsome face. Jimin wanted him to step just a little bit closer. Just close enough to feel his breath tickle over his face.
“What are you thinking about?” Jungkook asked lowly, halfway between a whisper and murmur. Jimin hadn’t noticed just how deep his voice was until just then, when it vibrated in his chest from sheer proximity.
Suddenly Jungkook’s face was closer than he remembered it. He swallowed thickly, staring at Jungkook’s neck to avoid his imploring eyes. Jimin wasn’t exactly shy, but anyone doing what Jungkook was doing would give anyone a difficult time.
“Hm?” Jungkook implored, clearly toying with him as he cocked his head to the side, leaning in even closer. Jimin felt completely caged in, his breath thinning as he was reminded of his abysmal height. “Look at me.”
Jimin fluttered his eyes up, met with the deep, dark orbs above him. He felt almost dizzy from it, his eyelids blinking slowly as Jungkook’s eyes moved down to his lips. He could feel Jungkook breathe on him, slow and steady. Controlled. Like he knew exactly what he was doing, and he was hoping Jimin wanted the same.
“I’m thinking about you kissing me,” Jimin said quietly, coming out slightly whispered from his throat wrestling with his hammering heart and his nerves in a horrible triage.
Jungkook smiled, pulled up slightly more on one side of his face. Jimin felt like there was a streak of excitement there, like Jungkook had gotten exactly what he wanted.
“Am I good at it?” Jungkook prodded, purposefully breathing out hard against Jimin’s pressed-shut lips, chest rumbling with the heavy salaciousness of his own words.
Jimin’s eyes were almost crossed as they focused on Jungkook’s lips, hovering over him just so, out of reach. He nodded, squeezing his eyes shut and breathing rapidly in anticipation.
But nothing came.
He opened his eyes, not feeling Jungkook breathing on him anymore. Instead, Jungkook stood a few feet away, clearly ready to explore around himself..
“Alright, let’s see this common room of yours, then,” he said, big grin on his stupid face.
Jimin stood still, almost hanging in the air where Jungkook had left him.
“Aw,” Jungkook pouted as he pretended to only just now notice. “That disappointed, huh?” He said with mock sympathy. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he continued, moving over to caress Jimin’s chin lightly. “I’ll kiss you all you want—everywhere you want—once we get away from these dungeons and head somewhere nicer. You didn’t expect me to initiate our first kiss in this dingy place, did you?”
“You’re horrible,” Jimin quipped, shoving at Jungkook’s chest. “I oughtn’t to show you anywhere.”
“I’m kidding,” Jungkook rumbled with a laugh, rubbing at some of the hair by Jimin’s ear. “I love the decor. Reminds me of you.”
“Green and dark?” Jimin questioned, jutting his bottom lip out miserably.
Jungkook chuckled, pulling Jimin further in, as if wanting to show him how excited he was to be there.
“Elegant and unique,” he corrected.
Jimin spent a little while showing Jungkook the faint silhouette of the giant squid, floating gently in the distance of the lake. Then he showed him some of their bookcases, the self-igniting fireplace, and their collection of rare potions ingredients. Jungkook seemed quite impressed, happy to trail around after Jimin as he explained their surroundings.
He couldn’t help but wish that Jungkook was more anxious to touch him, however. Somehow he felt like he’d gotten the short end of the stick when he still felt like Jungkook’s breath over his mouth from earlier was still burning him, while Jungkook seemed to be walking around just as leisurely as ever.
“I’ll show you my room,” Jimin mumbled, heading in the direction of the spiral staircase leading up to where he slept.
His stomach twisted in anticipation. Though there was nothing inherently salacious about showing someone your sleeping quarters, he felt like bringing Jungkook up into his space was oddly intimate, particularly since all he could think about was the feeling of his breath on his lip and the low timbre of his voice quaking his chest.
“That one’s mine,” he said off-handedly when Jungkook stepped up the last step, gesturing towards his bed.
“Cute,” Jungkook commented, and Jimin couldn’t be sure if he was referencing his crocheted throw pillow, his childhood stuffed animal, or both.
Jimin backed himself awkwardly against his desk, half sitting on it as he clasped his hands together in front of himself. He knew they didn’t have long until the quidditch game ended, technically, and that Jungkook being in their common room was a horrendous rule breach; especially if Hoseok found out.
But he was getting dizzy with the need of having Jungkook’s attention to himself. And almost whiny in the way Jungkook wasn’t giving him what he thought he so evidently wanted.
And so when Jungkook seemed to head back to the stairs and asked, “Do you want to grab some food?” Jimin couldn’t help but whine in frustration.
Jungkook paused, turning straight to face him with a devious grin on his face. Jimin clenched his thighs, gripping the wood of the desk behind him. Jungkook took a few steps forward, his smile playful but warm.
“Hm? Did you want something? You’re gonna have to speak up.”
“You’re cruel,” Jimin cast at him, staring at Jungkook’s feet in contempt. “You’re horrible.”
“Tell me what you want,” Jungkook said then, and he already sounded so much closer. It didn’t take long before Jimin felt Jungkook leaning over him on the desk, his face only millimeters from his.
“You know what I want,” Jimin whined, reaching up to grip at Jungkook’s jumper pleadingly.
“Ask nicely,” Jungkook whispered at the side of his face, into his ear.
Jimin almost keened, his eyes hazy as he stared up at Jungkook’s lips.
“Kiss me,” he begged, his voice small as he almost felt insecure in asking. A little embarrassed. “Please,” he added for good measure.
Luckily, Jungkook didn’t seem set on torturing him for much longer. He felt enveloped by maroon and gold as Jungkook finally leaned forward, gripping Jimin’s chin and slotting their mouths together in a firm and warm kiss. Jimin breathed into it, loving the feeling of Jungkook pressing into him. When he pulled back, Jimin already missed that warmth.
“Do you want me to make a mess of you?” Jungkook murmured hotly into his ear, his hands resting confident and easy at Jimin’s hips. “Will you let me have a little touch?”
Jimin nodded eagerly into his neck, holding onto his broad shoulders for support. He wanted nothing more than to melt into Jungkook in that moment. Just for a little bit. Just a little taste.
“J-Jungkook,” he whimpered when he felt those fingers stroke his hips, before one hand reached around his front to undo his zipper.
He grabbed around Jungkook’s shoulders as hard as he could, bucking his hips forward at the same time. His cheek pressed up against the itchy fabric of Jungkook’s jumper, and he felt his eyes roll when Jungkook finally touched him fully.
“Have you done this before, sweetheart?” Jungkook asked, the way he was moving his fingers clearly showcasing that he had. Jimin bit back an unsavoury, sad little bout of jealousy. Of course the captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team had fucked people before. Gryffindors in general didn’t seem afraid to take what they wanted.
“N-Not all the way, just...just fooled around.”
It was Jungkook’s turn to stiffen up now, and not in a good way. Jimin covered his mouth to hide the way he blushed to himself, knowing Gryffindors were also rather passionate and chivalrous, two traits which must have come to a sordid contention within him in that moment. Regardless, Jungkook mellowed, seeming to cover his brief streak of jealousy with his confidence.
“Anyone notable?” He asked, and Jimin almost laughed at his poorly veiled attempt at prying.
“Hufflepuffs have big hands,” Jimin murmured, moaning into the back of his hand when Jungkook squeezed his little cock again, his entire hand engulfing it as he fondled.
“Do they?” Jungkook said absentmindedly, breathing hard against Jimin’s neck as he leaned in to nose at his skin.
“And my third Slytherin roommate. He wouldn’t stop staring at me when I changed my robes. Kept offering to help me.”
Jungkook pressed him harder against the desk, trapping Jimin there with sheer strength alone. Jimin’s thighs tingled as he felt his feet being close to dangling above the ground.
“Did you let him help you?” Jungkook asked, and Jimin didn’t like how calm he sounded. His rougher, more pointed actions didn’t match up with his placating, innocent-seeming words.
“He was very persuasive,” Jimin explained, well aware that his words were riling Jungkook up in more ways than one. He wondered how wise it was to press the buttons of a lion. Jungkook wanted to know exactly what he’d done; likely so that he could do it too, but better. Erase the trace of anyone else; the amalgamation of his pride and rebelliousness. If that wasn’t laughably Gryffindor of him, Jimin didn’t know what was.
Jungkook had clearly had enough of his light-hearted toeing around, and pulled back from his neck to look him hard in the eyes. Jimin swallowed, feeling his cock twitch and leak in his pants.
“He fondled my body as he undressed me. Then we kissed on my bed,” Jimin clarified. Jungkook seemed mollified with that, until he stared down at Jimin’s body. “I was too scared to let him fuck me, so I got down on my knees for him by his bed instead and sucked him off.”
“How long were you roommates?”
“Three months,” Jimin said. “He got a bit intense, so I complained to a prefect and switched rooms.”
“And the Hufflepuff?”
“One of the only guys outside of my house who has ever been nice to me,” Jimin reminisced fondly, thinking back to the warm eyes and bright face. “We have a reputation as Slytherins, but he didn’t care. He took me to Hogsmeade, the lake, and even the Hufflepuff common room. It was nice.”
Jungkook’s face went from obstinate to almost hurt.
“Anyways,” Jimin continued quickly, having toyed with Jungkook for way too long. “All that stopped after I let him finger me on the train home at the end of that year. Apparently bedding a Slytherin is a kinky pastime for most houses, the conquest of one being the most coveted prize, since we’re so notoriously ‘picky’ and ‘difficult’.”
As soon as he said that, Jungkook’s demeanor changed, his eyes looking down at the Slytherin crest on Jimin’s pullover.
“That’s fucked up,” Jungkook murmured. He wasn’t so playful anymore. He sounded and looked a little out of it; a little crestfallen.
“Sure,” Jimin agreed, masking how horrendous and used he had felt after the whole ordeal, and how it had been one of the many things that had led him to be cautious and wary around other houses. They were always called cold and self-serving, but never had anyone else bothered to be introspective about what made them that way. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—“
“I would never do that to you,” Jungkook growled, and Jimin shivered at the assertiveness in his voice, feeling Jungkook gather him up in a tight embrace. He leaned into the feeling, enjoying being held by him way more than he would like to admit. “I don’t think anything of you; I hope you know that,” Jungkook continued, leaned back to look Jimin in the eyes. The excessive eye contact and intensity of Jungkook’s actions and emotions were certainty a whiplash from what he was used to, albeit not an unwelcome one. “I think you’re beautiful and smart and kind and resilient. And that you’re just Jimin. And I really, really like Jimin.”
Jimin felt it difficult to swallow, his cheeks heating up a horrendous amount, his entire face burning. Jungkook didn’t budge, looking him in the eyes with all the sincerity of someone who had the confidence of all the world. Jimin finally met his gaze, his heart fluttering in his chest. Jungkook was direct, and expected the same back. Maybe Jimin could get used to that.
“I really like you too,” he murmured, several decibels quieter than Jungkook, his heart more shivering and fragile as he carried it carefully in his hands, where Jungkook sported his proudly on his sleeves.
“Aw, that’s quite sappy for someone who just failed to get laid,” they heard in the room then, and both of them whipped around to come face to face with two Slytherin boys, looking like cats that just got their cream. Jimin could see Jungkook quickly move to stand in front of him, covering his lower half the best he could. “You make it all the way into our guarded common room and couldn’t even seal the deal?”
“Fuck off,” Jungkook just said, face and eyes hard as his soft demeanor from just moments before dissipated. Brave and chivalrous, indeed. “At least I’m not a spying pervert.”
“Ouch,” one of the two boys said, mocking hurt. He grinned at the other one, the two of them clearly not looking like they were about to leave them alone.
Jimin placed a careful hand on Jungkook’s back, signaling for him to calm down. If there was anything both Slytherins and Gryffindors were prone to, it was being wound up. Unfortunately, the movement caught their attention, and suddenly he wasn’t so sure this could be resolved peacefully anymore.
“Can’t believe our Jimin’s skipping the big game to give himself up on a silver platter to some Gryffindor mutt. How indecent.”
Jungkook bristled even more. Though Jimin assumed it was at being called a mutt, Jungkook instantly shot that down.
“He’s not yours,” he bit out, his shoulders squaring up a little bit.
“Down, boy,” they laughed, clearly elated at him biting bait so they could goad him further. Jimin had never been this annoyed at someone in his own house before. Usually they were less loud, less invasive, and not prone to antagonizing their own.
“You’re pathetic,” Jimin couldn’t help but say, unable to watch then mock Jungkook for a second longer. It sort of just slipped out.
As soon as it did, the two boys looked curiously up at him, sufficiently entertained. As if they found him funny.
“Don’t waste your breath on some Gryffindor meathead,” the guy on the right insisted. “Besides, he’s not allowed in here. We can report him to the head of house, you know. Wonder what would happen to his position on the quidditch team then.”
Of course they knew. Jungkook was the best beater Hogwarts had ever seen. He made the Gryffindor team a menace against anyone they played, and structured each hit of the bludgers to significantly disadvantage the opposing teams. Not to mention that, as captain, he’d planned plays and strategies outstripping the notorious tactics of even the Caerphilly Catapults. He was notorious.
“How about this,” the tallest guy said, a menacing smirk lined up his left cheek as he broke off Jimin’s line of thought. Jimin had a sinking feeling in his stomach, which only got worse when the guy finally looked past Jungkook and over to him. He could see Jungkook tensing his muscles already. “We won’t report you if you get Jimin to show off his pretty privates for us.” His eyes raked down Jimin’s robes, settling near his waist. The air was heavy with the threat, hanging between them. “Just the littlest peek.”
Nobody moved or said anything, but Jimin could hear Jungkook’s angry panting get louder. It had to be a power play on their part, only meant to humiliate someone from a house that they clearly saw as beneath them. Jimin refused to believe they actually cared about seeing him naked.
“Just ignore them, Jungkook,” he mumbled quickly, not showing any expression on his face that might give the guys what they wanted. His fear; Jungkook’s humiliation. “They won’t actually talk to our head of house, because they shouldn’t be here during the game, either.”
He sent them a pointed glare from where he sat, but still kept his body firmly hidden behind Jungkook’s larger one.
“Come on, just one look at your little cock,” the guy said with a sneer. “You were already halfway there—”
Jungkook was moving before Jimin could even think to try and reach out to hold him back, whipping his wand out and pointing the black, thin end of it right at the guy’s throat, effectively silencing him.
“Jungkook, wait!”
“Ooh, scary,” the guy pressed out, despite breathing hard down his lip as he stared at Jungkook’s threatening wand. “You gonna go rabid on me, dog?”
“Jungkook, they’re not worth it,” Jimin piped up, anxiety building in his stomach. It was clear that they wanted him to give them a reaction, Gryffindors being known to have a rather short fuse. “Let’s just leave.”
Jungkook, however, tightened his grip on his wand, pushing it harder into the guy’s throat.
“Hear that, Jungkook?” The guys said through a small choke, grin still obscene on his face. “Gryffindor’s whore said you shouldn’t—“
Jimin knew what was coming next, because they had so clearly orchestrated it. Jungkook barely stepped back and swung his wand back and over his shoulder, his eyes alight with menace.
“Expulso!”
There was a loud explosion of air and wind manifesting right in front of the Slytherin student, sending him careening backwards across the floor of the room with parchments and books sailing off the tables alongside him. Jungkook stood there, panting, his wand still pointed threateningly at the guy.
Seeming to come out of his latent shock, the second of the duo got his ass into gear, pulling his own wand out and whipping it around.
“Locomotor Mortis!” He exclaimed, his face far from confident now, if not slightly fearful. Whatever their intention, Jimin was certain it hadn’t entailed getting a mouthful of well-crafted spells from Gryffindor’s star beater.
Jungkook’s legs snapped together as the spell hit, effectively binding them. He stumbled, falling to his knees and groaning, but not before steadying his wand and pointing it down.
“Finite Incantatem.” Jungkook chanted, and then his legs were free again, moving to get him back up and ready for more.
Jimin quickened to then, reaching into his own robes to look for his wand. If he couldn’t stop Jungkook, the least he could do was help him as he fought two on one.
“Everte statum!” Yelled the boy who had been exploded back earlier from the ground, hitting Jungkook square in the stomach and throwing him backwards.
“Molliare!” Jimin was quick to yell, cushioning Jungkook as he flew backwards towards the wall.
Jungkook gathered himself surprisingly quickly, and Jimin wondered if it had anything to do with being hit by bludgers for years on end in that dangerous sport of his.
“Epoximise!” Jungkook yelled, and the Slytherin boy already on the floor snapped back down, appearing to be glued to it. He struggled for a bit, but not enough to get out. Jimin supposed he couldn’t swing his arm around to cast Finite Incantatem on himself to undo it.
Second Slytherin guy was angry now, and came forward with spittle flying from his mouth as he spoke.
“Bombarda!” He yelled, clearly aiming for Jimin, as if he’d only just figured out that that was what would make Jungkook the most irate.
“Protego,” Jungkook spat halfway through the other’s spell, eviscerating the explosion before it even got to start. When the boy moved to cast it a second time, Jungkook stepped in front of Jimin fully, straightening himself up to full height. “Protego,” he grit out again.
The next one, however, Jungkook couldn’t block.
“Diffindo!”
Jimin’s robes tore straight across the chest, splitting down and revealing his skin underneath. Jimin felt the slight sting before the cold air hit him, and the Slytherin student seemed just about as shocked that it had worked as he did that he had cast it.
“Fumos,” Jimin heard in Jungkook’s familiar voice, though darker than he’d ever heard it before. And soon the entire room was filled with smoke thick enough to engulf them all.
An arm reached out to wrap around him, and he shrieked, before he smelled Jungkook’s familiar scent, and allowed himself to be half carried off of the desk, lead across the room and down the stairs, before they found themselves in the dark corridors of the dungeon.
Jungkook was holding onto him so hard it almost hurt, and the smoke from inside seemed to follow them out in a trail.