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Jimin startles awake, chest burning and airway tight, a small hand clasped into his damp sleep shirt. He coughs roughly, blinking away the sleep in his eyes and desperately trying to gulp down air. His throat hurts, every dry cough feels like a stab to his esophagus and his inhales are distressed, lungs screaming for one clear breath as the panic sets into his system. It’s radioactive and yellow, anxiety tightening in his chest, squeezing his heart and lungs and he reaches blindly out to the side of his bed.
Another wave of panic beats down on him as his fingers only fall on the flat surface of his bedside table, the cool temperature of the sanded wood barely doing anything to calm his nerves. The coughs get more severe as he pulls in less and less air, tears flood his eyes and he grits his teeth, uses all of his strength to push his weak body up on shaky arms in order to reach further.
Relief floods his system as his hand reaches the smooth material of his oxygen mask. Jimin braces himself for a moment before shoving himself upwards abruptly, sliding himself to the edge of his bed, sheets wrinkling up around his small frame. He slides his mask on with ease, blindly reaching for the machine before flipping the switch. The device lights up, and Jimin times his breathing with the methodical beeping noise as cool air is forced into his tight lungs. His body sinks, tail and ears no longer standing upright in alarm, and the tension in his shoulders dissipates as his chest opens back up.
As his body calms down, he finally takes in his surroundings. It’s dark in his bedroom, he glances at the clock and it’s about 6am. Jimin yawns audibly into his mask, eyes sticky with sleep and a pointed ear twitching above his head from fatigue. He doesn’t have to wake up until 9, and outside of his window the sky turns cerulean as it prepares for the sun to break through and paint the world orange and pink.
Jimin sighs, slipping off the mask carefully before placing it back on the hook of the machine. He presses the power button, shoulders drooping slightly at the click.
He’s a cat hybrid, a dilute calico, which are extremely rare. Hybrid pregnancies are known to be difficult, even more so than a human pregnancy, and birth is an even more problematic process. Luckily for Jimin, his mother survived her pregnancy, and gave birth with few complications, but the issues Jimin suffered from afterwards were persistent. He was diagnosed with chronic pneumothorax, caused by a small hole in his lung. It’s gotten better as he’s gotten older, but that’s only because he knows how to handle his attacks.
The hardest days are when he needs the machine. He feels humiliated, helpless, his body unable to even breathe on his own. Jimin hates that feeling, dreads it.
He pushes himself up onto his tired legs, stretching his arms and spine before bringing his soft tail up to swipe at his puffy eyes, rubbing away the edges of exhaustion. Taking careful steps, he makes his way across from his bed to the sliding door of his tiny balcony.
The autumn air hits his skin sharply, the morning temperature drop causing him to shiver slightly. He leans against the railing, bringing a hand up to trail fingers through soft silver and blonde hair and scratch tiredly at his feline ears.
His fingers grasp the box of cigarettes he keeps out there, slipping a stick out before lighting it and taking a drag, thick, bitter smoke filling his lungs. If Yoongi was here he’d kill him, scold him until his ears ring. But he can’t help it, needs to feel numb for a moment.
The sun hasn’t started to peek through the blue, not yet there to grace the sky with sweet tangerine, bright gold and soft peach and airbrush the city in life. It’s quiet on his street this early, and the still air is slightly comforting in his lungs.
Jimin has reached the end of the cigarette, and his ears twitch in rhythm with his fingers as he itches to smoke another, hesitating to go back inside to face his empty bedroom. His apartment is home, it’s comfortable, but oddly, it haunts him with it’s emptiness, the air stiff and quiet.
Jimin is 27, has finished college and has a stable job, and yet, his life feels empty. He watches his friends and old classmates post on social media about travelling and marriage and even having kids. But for Jimin, it’s like he’s on a treadmill, running and running but never moving as he watches the rest of the world go forward.
When the sun is high in the sky he’ll go out and put on a grin and lie to the sun that he’s happy as it shines down on him. He’ll party and drink and laugh to try to ignore the hurt, and then after the sun says goodbye and the darkness seeps in he’ll clutch at the empty space in his bed and pretend he doesn’t wish he had someone to lie with.
He feels pathetic when he wallows in these feelings so early, and he lights another cigarette, his brain riddled with negativity while the sky is asleep and exhaustion is still settling in his limbs. 27 years have passed and he’s still not used to being alone.
°.✩┈┈∘*┈୨୧┈*∘┈┈✩.°
When Jimin had entered high school, he didn’t expect anything interesting. He was a new kid, having moved from Busan all the way to Seoul to be closer to his new doctor, and so he assumed no one would attempt to talk to him, his accent was thick, and he was shy and reserved. There was also the fact he was also a cat hybrid, with shiny silver hair that had tufts of golden blonde interlaced in it, pointed ears atop his head, and soft tail he always kept tucked near his torso.
His school was about 45% hybrid, so no one batted an eye or ostracized him as he introduced himself, and for that aspect, he was glad. He assumed he would blend in with the crowd, fully prepared to fade into the background until graduation.
But then he met a boy named Kim Taehyung.
Kim Taehyung sat in front of him, and in just about every aspect, he was Jimin’s polar opposite. Although they were the same height and age, Taehyung was a human, while Jimin was not.
And Taehyung was the most beautiful human Jimin had ever seen. He had dark eyes with long lashes and hair that curled delicately around his ears and forehead, a smile that mirrored the sun, and a laugh that Jimin would remember forever. They grew close almost instantly, inseparable from the start, and he was the only person in high school Jimin could call a friend.
He would greet Jimin in the morning, a soft “Good morning Jimin-ah.” while his eyes were still tired and his voice was slightly quiet with exhaustion. He walked Jimin to the nurses office before gym class, relaying funny stories to pull laughs out of his system because he knew Jimin hated having to sit out. And when Jimin had attacks during class, as other students muttered biting complaints under their breath, Taehyung was always the first person to jump up, slip his arm under his and take him to the infirmary.
He was beautiful.
Sometimes he even sat in the classroom with Jimin for lunch, he would disappear with the other students as the bell rang, but minutes later he would return, a gentle smile on his face and Jimin’s favorite drink from the vending machine in his hand. They would talk about anything and everything, conversation with Taehyung was easy and light on Jimin’s heart, he never pried too much or asked questions that made Jimin uncomfortable.
Taehyung was beautiful in so many ways, he knew Jimin better than he knew himself and they were closer than close. Inseparable, Taehyung could recognize Jimin by the sound of his breathing, and Jimin could memorize all of Taehyung’s favorite things better than he’s memorized anything he learned in school. (And Jimin was top of his class)
It was always them, like they had known each other for centuries, and though many questioned their closeness, no one else’s opinion mattered, because it was Them. Him and Taehyung, Taehyung and him.
And then something happened.
In the fall of his 17th birthday, Jimin was hospitalized. His lung collapsed badly, and his doctor’s kept him there for weeks. It seemed to be endless, one week there would be improvements, and the next week it would deteriorate, and Jimin almost went mad.
Everyday was the same, at the same time he would wake up, nurses would visit him at the same time and ask him the same questions, his parents would visit at the same time and say the same things, and often Jimin genuinely wondered if he was caught in a time loop. The hospital was lonely, white walls and shiny floors, the stark, uncomfortable smell of medicine and strong cleaner, and the often unbearable silence.
On his actual birthday, after the nurses had given him cake and done their routine check ups, he was left alone. It was late, quiet, and the only friend Jimin had was the full moon outside his window. He watched the sky often, making a game out of trying to guess which phase the moon would be every night, sounds boring, but at least it helped keep him sane.
Then the door clicked. In walked Taehyung, quiet and careful, a smile spreading on his features as their eyes met, and Jimin almost felt like his lung expanded there and then.
In his hands was a bag of manga he had brought, and a small container of shortcake. They sat on Jimin’s bed together, cross legged with their sides pressed together as they faced the window. Taehyung spoke quietly, letting Jimin rest on his shoulder as he relayed stories from class, from outside of school, that he found online, just anything to put a smile on Jimin’s face.
At one point it got quiet, nothing to fill the silence but the methodical beep of Jimin’s heart monitor. Taehyung’s atmosphere is soft, comforting to Jimin’s nerves.
“Jimin-ah,” His voice soft and quiet, whispering to Jimin’s heart. He feels Taehyung rest his head on his own, soft black hair meshing with Jimin’s bright silver locks, and it’s devastatingly intimate. There’s a pause after his words, like he can’t figure out what to say next.
“I like you.”
And Jimin,
Jimin couldn’t accept. How could he? Sat in the hospital for what felt like the millionth time in his life, with no idea if he would eventually go home like normal or if his health would finally deteriorate and take him. How could he put that burden onto Taehyung while they were so young? He couldn’t imagine it, being a teenager and watching your partner go in and out of the hospital, constantly being worried. Taehyung didn’t deserve that.
Taehyung deserves someone better than Jimin, a human, someone who was bright and outgoing, strong and healthy, who spoke loudly and with confidence and smiled often.
But Jimin liked him so much, and yet. He gave no response. Taehyung was nice about it, because he’s Taehyung and he’s lovely. He smiled brightly and laughed and told Jimin it was okay. And yet, inside his chest his heart screamed at him, cried out as it cracked slightly, regret already childing his brain. And for the next year, they were still friends, and Jimin swallowed down his true feelings.
He and Taehyung became just slightly distant after graduating. Taehyung almost immediately left to study abroad, and after graduating he stayed in europe. But they text often, fleeting conversations to keep the line from going dead.
He’s heard all of Taehyung’s stories, and yet it doesn’t feel the same. Jimin hasn’t seen him in real life in so long, watches him grow up and live without him through a screen. He sees Taehyung go out with other people, make other friends, seemingly have the time of his life all so far away.
Jimin tells himself he doesn’t feel anything anymore, how pathetic would that be right? Clinging onto a you had almost a decade ago. And that’s what Jimin wants himself to believe, that he’s over Taehyung, that his heart doesn’t beat for him, that he doesn’t want to hold his hand for hours and listen to his voice while he falls asleep every night.
°.✩┈┈∘*┈୨୧┈*∘┈┈✩.°
When Jimin opened the invitation to his high school reunion, he told himself he was only going for nostalgia’s sake.
But now, as he’s sat at a cramped table of loud faces he can’t remember, with food that isn’t spicy enough, in a restaurant that’s too warm in a part of town he’d never thought he would return to, he questions himself. He’s antsy, nursing the same glass of beer for the past hour and half, tapping sharp nails on the table in anticipation. His left ear twitches methodically, anxiety poking at the back of his neck as he throws glances at the entrance repeatedly.
He’s sat in between three other people, a male panther hybrid and a human to his right and a nice bunny hybrid to his left. They aren’t bothering him in particular, but it’s the people who are sitting across from him that are irking at his nerves. Those who were loud in school are louder as adults he assumes, especially when there’s alcohol involved.
Jimin’s heart is pounding, and the noise from his rowdy drunk classmates is beating like a drum inside his ears, and then everything goes quiet as he hears the familiar bell of the entrance ring. He takes a deep breath, a feeble attempt to ground himself, and if he pretends hard enough maybe his body will be convinced it works.
And there he is.
In steps Kim Taehyung, a foot taller and somehow eons more beautiful than he looks online. He shines bright as the sun, and when their eyes meet he smiles gently, a small, barely noticeable thing and Jimin yet feels like his heart has stopped, and suddenly he’s 17 in that classroom again, the sun reflecting on his skin, surrounded by the sweet smell of cherry blossoms as Taehyung sat in front of him and doodled little faces onto his homework while he blushed at their proximity, a teenager with a heart wrenching crush on someone who’s miles apart from him in every way.
He tells himself it’s nothing, that he’s just excited to see an old friend, but then Taehyung settles himself in between two people directly across from Jimin and his worst fears have been confirmed.
Taehyung waves at him, utters a warm ‘Hi Jimin-ah’ with the softest smile Jimin has ever had the grace of seeing and he discovers achingly, brutally, that his name still sounds sweet coming from Taehyung’s lips. He can only nod in response, giving him a shy smile in return as his words don’t agree with him, mind going blank.
Taehyung gets comfortable immediately, laughing and chatting with old classmates, sipping soda from a glass that looks almost artistic in his long pretty fingers and Jimin can only watch wordlessly, heart lodged in his throat.
And then something glints in the corner of his eye. Small and gold, wrapped delicately around his third finger and shines bright enough to rival Taehyung’s soft tanned skin and— Oh.
It looks like a wedding band.
Jimin swallows dryly, hands trembling around his drink as he tears his eyes away from the man in shame. He’s been sitting here ogling at him for the past 40 minutes since he arrived. Of course Taehyung is married. They’re 27, and Jimin has been watching all of his friends get married, so of course he’s taken. He flattens his ears down to his head, exhaling shakily as he chides himself for believing he even had a ghost of a chance after nearly 10 whole years. How dare he? After he rejected Taehyung’s feelings, of course he would move on.
It’s almost as if Jimin can Hear his heart shatter. Thin, sharp like glass, the shards stabbing into his throat and lungs, and he can feel the blood spilling around his chest. His breath quickens, he thinks he can hear someone ask ‘what’s wrong?’ but it sounds so far away, an echo in the back of his ears and suddenly this restaurant is Too cramped and Too bright and Jimin just needs to Get Out.
He shoves himself up abruptly, legs shaking slightly as he grabs his bag. “I need a smoke.” He mutters to no one in particular. He knows his voice shakes, and he prays to a god he doesn’t believe in that the words came out clearly.
He can feel Taehyung’s eyes watching him move to put on his coat and shoes, but he ignores it, he can’t face him. What’s left of his heart won’t be able to handle the tender concern he knows is laced onto his features.
The chilly air frees his lungs, tightness dissipating and he gulps it down in rough inhales as he walks, rounding the corner to plaster himself against the side of the restaurant, hiding in the darkness of the alley between it and the building next door. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes, vision blurry with humiliation and he grits his teeth as he wills them away.
How could he cry? He has no right, there’s no reason for Taehyung to have waited for him, and he barely makes an effort to keep their friendship alive. He’s the one clinging to the past, and the thought only brings more tears to his eyes. He tugs out a cigarette angrily, pressing his lighter so hard it almost snaps.
Jimin crumbles against the brick wall as he smokes, body sliding down to sit on the concrete below him. It's cold, rough and uncomfortable, but he can’t bring himself to care.
He laughs airily into the darkness at how pathetic his situation is. He lost his chance with his first love and now he’s married, and he was childish enough to actually hope they could’ve been more 10 years later. And now he’s sitting outside in the dirt, and his jacket is probably getting dirty and wet, he’s not wearing clothes thick enough for how cold it is tonight, and he’s bitten at his bottom lip so hard the breeze stings at it.
He sighs, the urge to smoke has left him, and all he can do is watch emotionless as it burns out between his fingers, crispy orange fire melting it into feathery ash before it disappears.
“You know, of all the things I figured you’d be doing after ten years, smoking cigarettes was not one of them.”
Jimin startles, silver ears twitching to the direction of the voice.
Taehyung stands above him, body leaned against the wall next to him, a slight smirk on his soft lips.
Moonlight shines down on his tanned skin, illuminating his long lashes, highlighting the soft tip of his nose and somehow he glows even in the darkness, twinkling stars reflecting in his deep eyes, and Jimin thinks he’s an angel.
Jimin can only gawk at him, cigarette slipping through his fingers to die in the dirt below him as he filters his brain to push a response through his parted lips.
A chuckle exits Taehyung’s lips before he crouches down next to him, and he’s so close and Jimin can see how his soft hair curls so prettily against his eyebrow, how his lashes seem longer up close, the familiar freckles dotted on his nose and lip and his mouth looks so soft, shiny with balm and god Jimin wants to kiss him so badly.
The image of the ring on his finger flashes in Jimin’s mind and he stumbles onto his back to put distance between them, squeezing his eyes shut and wincing as his elbow lands straight onto his tail.
He clears his throat as he sits up slightly, balancing on his hands. “W-what are you doing out here?” He stutters, only able to glance up at Taehyung’s face for seconds at a time, too terrified to meet his eyes. He feels completely sober, he barely drank any of his beer but any trace there might’ve been in his system has definitely been evaporated out of his veins.
Taehyung looks at him with genuine confusion, his smile slipping from his features as he tilts his head, dark hair shifting with the movement.
“I’m checking on you. You were so quiet in there, didn’t even answer when I said hi.” He states plainly, frowning as if it was obvious.
“I was quiet in high school.” Jimin scoffs, defensive and guarded as he stares at Taehyung’s shoes, his ear twitching above his head.
“You weren’t quiet with me.” He shrugs.
Jimin hums in response, unable to answer, and instead he straightens up, brushing his coat off and bringing his eyes anywhere else besides the man next to him. He hears Taehyung shift to stand up as well, dirt crunching under shoes.
It’s silent for a moment after that, and Jimin tries his hardest not to shrink under Taehyung’s gaze, busying himself with pressing a pointed nail into his lighter, clicking it methodically but not actually trying to light it.
Jimin bites at his already stinging lip. He feels petty, he could at least Try to pretend everything is normal, but he’s pretended to be normal for 27 years, had to try even harder for 13 as he swallowed down his feelings, so maybe he’ll let himself feel hurt. After all, Taehyung has a wife to get back to, he and Jimin will probably never cross paths again after tonight, and Taehyung will disappear, dissolve between his fingers as quickly as his burnt out cigarette.
He feels Taehyung bump his right shoulder with his own.
“Okay that’s it, what’s wrong?”
Jimin inhales sharply, gritting his teeth as he points his eyes as far left as he can. “Nothing’s wrong Taehyung.” He gives him the saddest excuse for a thumbs up he’s ever seen before he continues. “I’m all good.”
He hears Taehyung push himself off the wall, coming to stand right in front of him.
“I’m being serious Jimin-ah.” He shifts closer and Jimin shrinks against the wall slightly. His tone is firm, but somehow still gentle, and Jimin wants nothing more than to go home, bury himself under his blankets and cry until he can forget how soft and deep his voice is.
Jimin swallows dryly, a lump in his throat. He tries to laugh, but there’s no trace of happiness in his system, so it’s dry and empty, a whisper in between their bodies.
“So am I.” His voice is flat and emotionless, and he’s sure it does nothing to help his case.
Taehyung sighs audibly, disappointment clear in his tone. It’s silent, the air around them is still, and then Jimin feels a hand brushing against his, soft fingertips tickling the sensitive skin of his knuckles and his hand twitches at the contact. It’s gentle, coaxes his shoulders to lose tension just slightly.
“Can you at least look at me?”
Jimin brings his eyes up from the ground to Taehyung’s face, and he’s so close again, their height difference stands out so much more and he has to look up to meet his eyes. They’re so dark, almost black in the night, and the warmth swirling in them makes Jimin’s tail tighten into a coil behind his back, a shake setting into his jaw as he tries to resist the tears that threaten to well up in his eyes.
Taehyung’s eyes soften in an instant, and Jimin’s heart shatters even further.
“There you are.”
It’s silent again and Jimin’s eyes are glassy, shaking slightly as he looks up at Taehyung through wispy lashes, struggling to keep eye contact as he tries to think of anything to say that won’t coax the tears out of his system.
The silence drags on, and then Taehyung is closer, their chests almost touching just slightly, and Jimin clenches his fist into his coat to resist the urge to shudder.
“Come home and have a drink with me.”
Jimin flinches. “WHAT?” His eyes are wide as saucers as he exclaims, and suddenly the air is punched out of his lungs and he chokes immediately, doubling over and coughing loudly.
He hears Taehyung gasp, a large palm immediately materializes on the back of his neck, rubbing softly and patting in between his shoulder blades until he straightens up again.
“Why,” Jimin starts as he clears his throat, “Why would you ask me that?”
Taehyung lifts a perfectly arched brow. “Because I want you to come home with me? It’s kind of far, but I brought my car if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Jimin shakes head, silver and blonde locks swishing with the movement. “I meant like,” He swallows roughly, praying to god that Taehyung isn’t one of those people.
“Just. What about your wife?”
It’s Taehyung’s turn to gawk at Jimin, speechless as he blinks at him firmly, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“Taehyung?”
Jimin is met with more silence, the taller one staring at him as if his brain has gone blank. Suddenly, as if Jimin’s words have finally registered, he shakes his head in disbelief.
“My WHAT?”
Jimin is caught off guard, mind short circuiting.
“Your- I mean.” Jimin exhales. “You have a wedding ring, so I just assumed...” He gestures down to Taehyung’s left hand, unable to look at the gold item and instead stares at his own shoes, a small pout adorning his features.
Taehyung snorts above him, and Jimin sees his shoulders shake as he starts chuckling like he’s just heard the funniest joke on the planet.
“Jimin-ah,” He utters in between giggles. “I’m not married. I’ve been single for years.”
“You,” Jimin’s heart stutters, body frozen and pointed ears twitching as he processes what he’s hearing. Embarrassment floods his system, coloring his skin pink under the moonlight.
“But. The ring?”
“You’re wearing rings too, Park Jimin, are all of them engagement rings?” Taehyung’s voice is teasing, and Jimin blushes even further.
“N-no…”
Taehyung hums, and it’s silent for a moment. And then he taps the tip of his shoe against Jimin’s, gaining his attention.
“So is it a no for the drink? You didn’t seem comfortable in the restaurant and honestly I want to catch up with you more, somewhere quiet.” Taehyung smiles at him, small and shy, the faintest blush on the high of his cheeks, and Jimin pushes the fluttering of his heart down, refusing to get his hopes up.
He says yes before he’s even sure he really wants to, body responding to Taehyung before his anxiety can consider all the possible consequences. The smile Taehyung gives him at his acceptance wipes his mind of any negative thoughts, soft lips stretching into that familiar boxy heart that always made affection bloom inside him, wind its way through his ribs to settle in the center of his chest.
Next thing he knows he’s in the passenger seat of Taehyung’s warm car, a playlist of popular songs from their youth flowing out of the speaker. He and Taehyung talk and laugh as they reminisce, sharing old memories they have associated with every song, and it’s the first time in years that Jimin has found conversation so easy.
It’s at this point that he remembers Why his crush hasn’t gone away. It’s moments like these, as Taehyung sings along to a song Jimin can remember sharing headphones to listen to in between classes, his voice is just as pretty as back then, and he realizes that no one has ever made him feel like this. The smile he wears is bigger than any other smile he’s ever had, his chest hurts in the way it does when he laughs too much, and when he rolls down the window to scream out lyrics at a red light the autumn air is sweet like sugar on his tongue, and Taehyung’s deep laugh is a beautiful melody that fills his ears.
They arrive at Taehyung's apartment building after 15 minutes, it’s late at night and the street is asleep, the only sound to hear is the soft rustling of nature as a midnight breeze passes through leaves. They whisper and giggle as they make their way to the elevator, voices quiet, uttering words only the full moon and sparkling stars will hear.
Taehyung’s apartment is spacious, a mostly open floor plan with giant ceiling to floor windows on one wall, and it’s littered with his personality. There’s a record player next to the tv, a stack of vinyls on the bookshelf, accents of brown and green, paintings placed carefully in specific spots on the wall and it all feels so inexplicably Taehyung that Jimin wants to spend an eternity here seeking out the little details you don’t notice at first glance.
They end up settling in Taehyung’s bedroom, setting up a flat table and leaning up against his mattress frame to face the doors of his balcony. The atmosphere is far too romantic for Jimin’s weak heart, the lights are off, they’re sitting with their shoulders and knees brushing together just slightly and the curtains are thrown open to airbrush the room in hazy fluorescent moonlight.
Taehyung pours them both a glass of wine, and conversation from there is easygoing and light. It’s as if they had never separated, sharing words as easily as clear water flows through a clean river.
An hour passes and the night gets richer, and Taehyung is beautiful under the moon, the light reflecting off of his pupils and coloring his soft skin silvery blue, and at some point Jimin gets lost, staring openly at him with stars in his eyes as he goes on about a story from when he went abroad in France.
Eventually Taehyung goes silent, and then it’s just them, gazes soft, staring like they can find answers to their deepest thoughts in the other person's eyes.
“Taehyung-ah.”
He hums in response and Jimin feels bold suddenly, a slight buzz making his tongue loose, he knows it’s probably a terrible idea but he can’t bring himself to not do it.
“Can I ask you something?”
Taehyung smiles at him, eyes warm. “Anything.”
He hesitates just slightly, breath shaking, and he wants to tell him.
“I—,” But his nerves get the best of him, so he dials back. “Can I sleep over?”
Taehyung's smile deepens. He agrees with a grin, and that’s what they do, as if they’re still high schoolers, they have a sleepover. Taehyung could have work tomorrow for all he knows, but when he picks out pajamas for Jimin to borrow and folds out his couch for him to sleep on, Jimin can’t think of anything else.
He can’t think of anything else besides Taehyung’s laugh, his eyes and the way his cheeks bunch up when he smiles, his long legs and broad shoulders, pretty gentle hands and the way his shirt is too big on Jimin’s body. Jimin feels a little high on Taehyung like this, completely surrounded by his essence and draped under his soft clothes.
They decide to watch a movie before sleeping, the both of them sat in the living room on the fold out bed, draped in cozy pajamas and covers and snacking on whatever they could find in Taehyung’s cabinets.
Exhaustion clings to his system, bundled up under Taehyung’s warm spare duvet, surrounded by Taehyung’s scent of clean cotton and warm peach, and the warmth of his body next to him begins to lull Jimin to sleep. Taehyung seems to notice, reaching up a hesitant hand to brush through silver locks. Jimin swallows a purr, and lets Taehyung's hand guide him, gently pressing his head down to his thigh as he runs soft fingers along his hair.
Taehyung watches Jimin doze off, fuzzy around the edges, cheeks soft and relaxed as he nuzzles his face against his fingers, seeking warmth in his sleep. His ears twitch methodically, tail curled around his torso and Taehyung’s heart clenches at the sight.
He’s so cute.
°.✩┈┈∘*┈୨୧┈*∘┈┈✩.°
Jimin wakes up the next morning wrapped up in soft blankets and comforting silence. He reaches around blindly, pulling his glasses out of his bag and slipping them on. He blinks slowly, body registering the sound of soft jazz and the scent of something sweet wafting through the air. He pushes himself up on the couch, blanket slipping down to pool around his hips as he stretches out his tail and arms, shaking sleep from his system. His nose twitches as he recognizes the smell of blueberry, turning his gaze towards the open kitchen.
Taehyung is there, standing behind his island as he spreads cream cheese on a warm blueberry bagel. He doesn’t notice Jimin’s staring, completely immersed as he sways along to the beat of the music. He’s gorgeous, petal lips pouted and his curled hair slightly damp from a shower, dark sweatpants hanging low on his slender hips, and his skin glows under the gold sun flowing through the windows.
Jimin almost shivers, affection flooding his veins, and he thinks briefly that nothing could be more beautiful than the sight before him. He looks like an angel, and Jimin wants nothing more than to go to him. He wants to wrap himself up in his warm arms, press his ear against his chest and listen to the song behind his ribs. What would his heart say? Would it sing the same way Jimin’s does right now? A part of him hopes so.
As if he can hear the man’s thoughts, Taehyung looks up, a smile spreading onto his features as his eyes reach Jimin. His hair and ears are lightly fluffed from sleep and his cheeks are puffy, peach pink as he blinks wordlessly.
“Good morning Jimin-ah, I made breakfast.” He says, soft and gentle, his smile widening just slightly.
“Oh. Um, good morning.” Jimin flushes slightly, a shy smile tugging his mouth upward. He slides off of the couch, looking anywhere but at Taehyung as he takes quiet steps towards the kitchen. He can’t meet Taehyung’s gaze, and fears his shoulders may tremble just from the feeling of his eyes.
He slips into one of the stools at the island, feeling small and slightly awkward. It’s not because of Taehyung per se, but what do you do in that situation? He saw his first love for the first time in years and ended up sleeping over his house, wearing his clothes and now he feels thoroughly softened and warmed, and then he remembers that Taehyung is just being friendly, and his brain fumbles at any attempt at starting a conversation.
They eat breakfast quietly, accompanied only by the sound of soft music and Jimin prays Taehyung can’t hear his heart pounding inside of his chest.
At some point, Taehyung pauses his eating, eyes resting upon Jimin’s face slightly in awe and something else he can’t name. Jimin resists the urge to shrink under his gaze.
He swallows nervously. “Is there something on my face?”
Taehyung flushes, unaware that he was staring, but he recovers quickly, shaking his head as he smiles.
“You have glasses.”
“Is that bad?”
“Nope,” He replies matter of factly, taking the last bite of his bagel. “They’re cute.” He reaches forward, using his pointer finger to push Jimin’s glasses up his face, tapping at the tip of his nose as he pulls away. The tip of his finger is soft, the touch fleeting and barely there.
Jimin is wordless.
“You’re blushing,” Taehyung giggles, light and twinkly before he stands, taking their plates and cutlery away to the sink.
And it’s not like this is out of the ordinary for him and Taehyung. Taehyung has always been teasing, saying things that put a flutter in Jimin’s heartbeat, compliments that are a bit too soft for his weak heart and mind. And yet it feels so different up close after so long, like it hits him 10 times harder, and he realizes just how much he missed Taehyung.
“Taehyung-ah.” He croaks. He’s suddenly shy, his emotion bleeds through, the walls around him are cracking just slightly.
“Hm?” Taehyung glances up at the sound of his voice, fluffed hair curling around his forehead, soft-looking and just as lovely as ever. And for some reason Jimin gets choked up, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He tries to speak, little squeaks that get caught in the back of his throat as embarrassment colors his face rose.
Worry flashes on Taehyung’s face, pretty brows furrowing together and his lips pursing just slightly. He makes his way back to where Jimin is sitting in record speed, and when his thumb brushes under Jimin’s eye a few stray tears slip out.
“What’s wrong, Jimin-ah?”
Taehyung asks so quietly he thinks he imagines it, a breath against the silence around them.
Jimin’s speechless, mouth opening and closing a couple of times, and the longer he’s silent, the deeper the frown between Taehyung’s eyebrows gets. He doesn’t want to worry him, wants to rip off the bandaid, but now, faced with a soft-looking, worried Taehyung, all courage leaves his system. He turns away from his hand, staring down at his lap. Jimin swallows down his anxiety, gritting his teeth before he takes a sharp inhale. He holds for a second, and then speaks.
“I love you.”
He’s met with silence, expected, but there’s no going back now.
“You don’t have to say anything, I know it’s a lot. You confessed to me all those years ago, but I rejected you.” More tears flood his eyes, his heart lodged in his throat, and his breath shakes when he continues.
“I-I know it was wrong of me, but I was so scared Taehyung-ah, you mean so much to me, and I was sick so often, I just— I didn’t want to put that on your shoulders.”
“Jimin-ah,”
And his heart breaks more just at the sound of his voice, guilt flooding his system and his ears flatten down to his head.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything, I should— I should leave, oh my god.” Jimin stands up abruptly, frantic as he steps away from the kitchen.
“Jimin.” Taehyung moves quickly, his voice firm and slightly louder, and his hands grasp at his shoulders. His grip is tight, grounding and Jimin swallows dryly.
He hears Taehyung sigh, and his grip loosens slightly, but he doesn’t let him go. “Can you look at me?”
Jimin squeezes his eyes shut, swallowing a sob. He opens his eyes and everything is bleary, and when he looks up at Taehyung his body trembles. His chest hurts, lungs burning as he hiccups.
“Breathe, Jimin-ah. It’s okay.”
He takes slow inhales, timing his breathing with Taehyung’s until the burn in his chest lessens. Taehyung is silent in front of him, a faint smile on his face and his hands still resting on Jimin’s forearms. Jimin can’t read the emotion in his eyes, but the hands on his shoulders are comforting, thumbs stroking at his skin to help him relax.
Taehyung watches his face closely, examining his features carefully and if Jimin wasn’t so thoroughly humiliated he would blush. The world seems to have stopped, the room hauntingly still, quiet aside for the sound of their harmonized breathing, and nothing moves aside from the occasional twitch of Jimin’s ear.
“Did you know some of your lashes are blonde?” Taehyung exhales, breaking the silence. His eyes are filled with twinkling wonder, his voice soft and so quiet, like he doesn’t want anyone else to hear his discovery.
Jimin’s breath catches, and he almost chokes.
“I—, what?”
He receives a giggle in response, and Taehyung steps closer. “I love you too, Park Jimin.”
Emotion swirls in his stomach, a rainbow of billowy colors. “How?” He exhales sharply.
Taehyung only shrugs in response, light and carefree. “I guess I just never stopped.”
“But I—” And Taehyung shushes him, bringing his hands up to pull at his soft cheeks. Jimin squeaks slightly, caught off guard. “Stop thinking so hard.” He utters, and he releases his face after a moment, when his cheeks are tinged red and heated.
Taehyung puts a finger under his chin then, and tilts his head up. There's a sparkle in his eyes and Jimin loses his next breath. Taehyung presses their mouths together and there's something utterly disarming about this kiss. It’s gentle, soft skin on skin and it tastes sweet. Jimin is frozen in place when he pulls back, his brain snapshotting. He thinks his heart might’ve stopped.
Jimin blinks wordlessly, cogs turning in his brain as everything settles. Is this even possible? Can love last that long, even after it’s been turned away? Is it truly a fire that only dims but never goes out?
And then suddenly he laughs out loud, face breaking out into a smile so hard he can’t see. He hears Taehyung laugh with him, bright and easy and the situation is so insane he wonders briefly if he’s dreaming. They quiet after a moment, foreheads touching and they both share loving glances.
“What now?” Jimin asks, breathless, and the smile he wears is so big he’s scared it might break.
Taehyung considers his answer, glancing up at the ceiling before he gives him a gentle smile in response. There’s the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips. “You kiss me back?”
Jimin laughs again, shoulders shaking. His tail wraps around Taehyung’s torso, bringing him even closer. He steps on his tiptoes, nuzzling their noses together affectionately.
“Sounds good to me.”