Archive of Our Own

Sapporo, November 2023

Reaching across the aisle, Jimin taps Jungkook’s knee. “Jungkook-ah. Kook-ah. Hey, you awake?”

Even though he still looks asleep, Jungkook lets out a little groan of acknowledgment and shifts his body towards the sound of Jimin’s voice,  

“Look outside,” Jimin says, unable to contain his excitement. “Everything’s white.”

Jungkook cracks open his eyes and, yawning, rests his forehead on the small, oval window. “It’s snowing,” he murmurs after a moment, grinning at Jimin just as the plane banks to the right, preparing to land in Sapporo. 

The flight between Tokyo and Sapporo is short, but Jungkook had nodded off as soon as they’d found their seats. He’s exhausted from yet another jam-packed schedule in Tokyo, and there are a few more things to do before wrapping up his promotions for Golden. To top it off, Jungkook has personally planned a couple more projects before enlistment, not even counting this one.

Everyone thinks he’s crazy — crazy for even attempting to put out a full album in such a short amount of time, and to plan so many promotions to go along with it. Even Jimin sometimes questions the sanity behind Jungkook’s decisions, but he also understands that the drive to do more, do better, is part of what makes Jungkook Jungkook.  

There had been a long stretch during the past two years where, in Jungkook’s eyes, he hadn’t done much of anything. By his own admission he’d been drifting, a little lost, a little lonely — and now he’s eager to make up for lost time by cramming everything he’d wanted to do, all of it, before December 12th.

It’s a date that’s fast approaching. Too fast.

For both of them, it’s been a hard couple years. Successful? Yes. Exciting, fulfilling? Yes and yes. Had it checked off one of Jimin’s lifelong goals, to release his own music, his first solo album? Hell yes it had — that and more. Number one on the Hot 100? Jimin had never dreamed that big, could never have imagined he could get there alone, and with such a personal song.

It was fitting that Jungkook had been just as successful this year — he’d also had a number one single, released his first solo album with impressive collabs and features, had high budget music videos, a streamed showcase, and even a televised concert on Good Morning America in Central Park (ill-timed rain notwithstanding.)

It has been an amazing and overwhelming and fulfilling year, in all the best ways, but it hadn’t left a lot of time for them.  

While Jimin had been working, Jungkook was free, and when Jimin was finally free, Jungkook had been working. Worse, their sleep schedules had been flipped as well. Daytime promotions and meetings meant Jimin was up early, often around the same time Jungkook was falling asleep. They both had traveled a lot, for weeks at a time. 

Even when they had managed to squeeze in time for each other, one or both of them were so exhausted that their evenings consisted of dinner, maybe watching a movie and snuggling, and passing out before it was over. Not very romantic.

Solo careers meant solo success, but also a lot of solo nights… and solo burnout.

Watching Jungkook nod off again, Jimin is reminded of another time, long ago, where the burnout had gotten so bad that the only solution had been to get away from it all.

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Tokyo, October 2017

Jungkook hasn’t put his camera down once since they’d arrived.

“What are you even filming?” Jimin teases, even though he knows it’s a brand new camera and this is just how Jungkook is — when he gets excited about something new, he dives in head first and doesn’t come up for air until he’s had his fill. “We’re in the back of a taxi, Jungkook-ah. What’s so exciting about that?”

“The rain,” Jungkook says, then swings the camera Jimin’s way. “You.”

“I look terrible,” Jimin complains, pulling his hat lower, but he’s not actually annoyed.It’s sweet how much Jungkook films him, and he’s only gotten more fixated since buying this new camera. He’d even been filming on the plane.

“Never,” Jungkook murmurs, cocking his head with a half grin. “Hyung. Hey hyung.” He nudges Jimin with his foot until he looks at the camera again.

“Yeah?” 

Jungkook’s eyes are wide, sparkling in the dappled light from passing cars and streetlights. “Are you as excited right now as I am?”

Jimin wishes he could pull him in for a kiss, but settles for hooking his ankle over Jungkook’s foot instead and scooting closer, close enough that their hands can brush up against each other. They might be hidden in the back seat of a dark car, but they can’t risk the taxi driver seeing anything suspicious, even though he doesn’t seem to know who they are. They’d been recognized by fans at both airports already, and they know it’ll happen again — Tokyo is a big city with lots of ARMY — but this trip is worth any sacrifice or inconvenience it costs them. This trip is everything to Jimin.

The stress of the Wings Tour, and the new success BTS are having in the overseas market this year, has taken its toll on all of the members. Their schedules have been relentless. They’d been working themselves to the bone chasing success — but at what cost?

It was through a combination of exhaustion and pressure and insecurity that Jimin and Jungkook increasingly sought each other out — not just for companionship or to blow off steam, but for support. Comfort. Relief. Jungkook had been the one safe port in the storm Jimin’s life had become. They’d always been close, always been there for each other, but this was something new.

The tighter they clung to each other, the more the feelings they’d been stoking for years had burned, brighter than ever before. Seemingly overnight, he and Jungkook were no longer thinking of themselves as just friends, even though there hadn’t been some sort of official proclamation or anything. Being together felt better than simply right, or good, or even happy — it felt meant to be. Before they’d even told the members, everyone seemed to know, like somehow they’d always known it would end up this way.

Jimin wonders if he would have made it through this past year if he hadn’t had Jungkook beside him — just like he’s sitting beside him now, speeding down a rainy street, their pinkies hooked together as some old cabbie listens to Japanese talk radio.

Finally, they were here, in Tokyo, embarking on their first trip together. 

It hadn’t exactly been a surprise to Jimin — they’d had to clear their plans with Big Hit, which took a little negotiating. But once they had the okay, Jungkook had insisted on managing all the details himself. He’d booked the plane tickets, made reservations at the hotel, even pre-purchased passes for Disneyland. 

Disneyland— now that part had been a surprise.

“Excited? Why would I be excited?” Jimin quips, trying and failing to maintain a serious face. Somehow the fact that Jungkook is filming him makes Jimin want to act even sillier. Jungkook immediately sees through Jimin’s charade and starts to giggle, and soon they’re both giggling, earning a few glances in the rearview mirror from the cabbie. 

“It’s no biggie. I go to Disneyland all the time,” Jimin deadpans, tears in the corners of his eyes because he’s been smiling so hard. “I have a yearly pass. I’m on the VIP list.”

“Is that so?” Jungkook says, rifling through his camera bag until he finds the tickets he’d bought online. He starts rolling down the window, spatters of rain flecking Jimin’s skin, and lifts his hand to the wind.  “So I suppose I can just throw these out—”

Jimin tackles him and rips the tickets from his hand. “Don’t even joke about that, you brat.” When he realizes the position they’re in — Jimin laying flat on top of Jungkook with his hands pinned over his head — Jimin clears his throat and straightens up, glancing at the cabbie again. He appears oblivious to their shenanigans, resigned to the fact that he has to deal with two annoying Korean boys for the next thirty minutes.

Jungkook tries to snatch them back, cackling. “What? I bought those tickets, I can do what I want—”

Shoving them down the front of his pants, Jimin grins slyly. “Come and get them.”

Jungkook audibly gulps and makes brief eye contact with the cabbie, who says something to them in Japanese. If Jimin had paid attention, and if he cared, he could probably have figured out what the man had said, but all he cares about is how flustered and pink Jungkook has gone.

No slouch when it comes to matching Jimin’s chaotic energy, Jungkook recovers his composure quickly and smirks, a devilish glint in his eye.  “Just wait until we get to the hotel.”

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“I can’t believe this is our last trip.”

“Nope,” Jungkook says, shaking his head. “It’s definitely not our last trip together.”

Traveling with Jungkook is something Jimin wants to do far into the future, even if he’d acted shocked when Jungkook had said on camera he wanted to keep the show going until they’re fifty. Fifty years old doesn’t seem like a stretch to Jimin. They both see themselves together for at least that long — longer. Forever.

Yet it still makes Jimin’s heart flutter a little when he hears Jungkook talk about plans for the future, like traveling, so nonchalantly, and with so much certainty. There’s something special about the two of them traveling together, as the past few months have confirmed. “I hope not,” he says, dreaming up all the places he’d like to visit with Jungkook.

Jungkook, concentrating as he drives through the thick snow, appears disinterested as he replies, “Don’t forget our trip to Yeoncheon. Technically, that will be our last trip.”

“Aish.” Jimin pretends to whack him on the shoulder. “Brat.”

“Don’t hit the driver, Jimin-ssi. It’s very dangerous, and not very nice.”

Jimin harrumphs and crosses his arms. “I regret enlisting with you,” he says, tongue firmly in cheek. “Jin hyung is right, we’re going to fight every day. We’ll probably hate each other by the time we are discharged.” Jimin bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing.

Jungkook’s smile is blinding, his nose crinkled in glee. “Now you’re a liar too. An abuser and a liar and a whiner,” he teases. “What have I gotten myself into?”

“And you’re Mr. Perfect, right?” Jimin retorts with a playful scoff. He loves doing this with Jungkook, riffing off each other, teasing and goading and laughing. It’s their favorite form of flirting. “You’re clearly the better person in this relationship. Our perfect Jungkook-ssi, our precious golden maknae who can do no wrong.”

Jungkook is laughing now. “Hmmm. You’re right, I am the most giving and loving one in this relationship. If you notice, I’m the one driving—”

“I offered!”

“And I’m your personal chef these days—”

“You’re the better cook!” 

“Jimin-ah, anybody can make tteokbokki,” Jungkook asserts. “Mine isn’t anything special.”

Jimin crosses his arms, pouting. “Yours is better.”

“You could make tteokbokki if you tried,” Jungkook says. “You only say you can’t do it, but I don’t actually think you mean it. I just think you like it when I cook for you.” He glances at Jimin, a knowing smile growing on his face.

“And so what if I do? Isn’t that what you want? For me to enjoy your cooking?” Jimin grins, not at all embarrassed that he enjoys being spoiled. “But in my defense, you never let me help. How will I ever improve if you don’t show me how?”

“The same way I did.”

Jimin wracks his brain. He actually has no idea how it happened. One day, seemingly out of nowhere, Jungkook could cook — and not just cook tteokbokki or ramen, but actual meals, dishes that take hours to make. Jimin takes his best guess. “Your eomma?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and chuckles. “My mom can’t cook. You know that.”

“Jungkook-ah! That’s not a nice thing to say about your eomma. I love your eomma.”

“Okay, fine. But she definitely didn’t share any cooking techniques with me.”

“Then where?”

Jungkook grins. “Where I learn everything, hyung. YouTube.”

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

So far, Sapporo has lived up to all of Jimin’s expectations.

It’s a big city, but quaint and picturesque in a way Seoul is not, with a cozy feel despite the cold wind off the sea nipping at his nose. Jimin’s not sure if his heart feels warm because of the snow, or the company he’s with, or if it’s because of Jungkook’s enthusiasm about everything little thing they see. Even hot coffee has him waxing poetic about how romantic Sapporo is.

Jimin can’t count the number of times Jungkook has already said, “Ahhh I love it here,” or “I’m having so much fun,” or “We should come back here again someday.”

The production crew has set them up for an easy, stress free vacation, just like they had in the other spots they’d visited for Are You Sure?! Whatever Jimin and Jungkook had said they wanted, the crew had made it happen, even if it meant renting out a whole ski resort just so the two of them can snowboard.

That’s tomorrow, though. Today they’re on a train — and not one of the dark, underground variety like in Seoul or New York. This one is above ground and has a view, first of the snow-covered streets and houses on the outskirts of the city, gradually shifting to a view of the winter sea. It’s beautiful. The waves are rolling into shore, shrouded slate grey by the sideways-blowing snow, their frothy peaks the same color as the clouds.

Jimin watches quietly, snapping a few pictures while Jungkook comments on the beauty, but as picturesque as it is, Jimin’s mind begins to wander in a different direction.

Jimin tries to remember his geography from high school, and if he’s correct, across the sea from Sapporo is approximately where the border of North Korea and Russia falls. That’s north of Yeoncheon, where they’ll be stationed, but it’s still much further north than Jimin is used to.

Putting off their enlistment to pursue solo work had been worth it, but December is a bad time of year to enlist, maybe the worst. The Fifth Division is near the DMZ between South and North Korea and, according to Seokjin, the winter there is bitterly cold with lots of snow. In only a few weeks, he and Jungkook will be thrown right into it — two boys from Busan, where it rarely snows, training out in the elements.

Jimin has always loved the snow and winter, but will that change once he’s knee deep in it for months and months?

Jungkook lays his head on Jimin’s shoulder and sighs. “What are you thinking about?” he murmurs, curling his hand around Jimin’s where it rests in his lap. Their backs are to the cameras and the rest of the train car, so there’s little risk — but it’s never no risk. Their lives, their love, has a constant overlay of risk.

“Mmm. Just how pretty it is.”

Jungkook squeezes his hand. “Not as pretty as you.”

Jimin snorts, slapping his hand away. “Will you stop that? I’m being serious.” 

“I can’t say my boyfriend is pretty?” he whispers, chuckling. When Jimin narrows his eyes threateningly, Jungkook relents — partially. “Okay, I’ll stop, but only if you tell me what you’re really thinking about.”

“Just, you know. The future. What it’ll be like when we’re there.”

There’s a long stretch of silence where they both stare out the window. The sea seems less peaceful now — the waves crash on the shore, the water churns white foam, and it’s altogether different from the placid, warm sea in Busan. Scarier, like you could easily get caught in an undertow and crash on the rocks.

Jungkook hums. “I know. I think about it too.”

“At least we’ll be together.” Jimin leans his weight against Jungkook, reminding himself not to dwell on the unknown, but to relish these last few weeks before enlistment. He doesn’t have to say anything to Jungkook — the unspoken meaning behind his words have been on both of their minds. They’ll be together, but forced to hide so much of who they are. 

Jungkook squeezes his hand, a reminder of how much stronger they become when they stay by each other’s sides. They’ve been through a lot, and the challenges never stop, but their love stands firm in the face of adversity. 

“We’ll get through it, Jimin-ah. We always do.” 

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

For a moment, Jimin doesn’t remember where he is. He can hear the faint clamor of street traffic below and shifts in bed, putting the pillow over his head, seeking a few more minutes of sleep.

A warm body sidles up behind him and Jimin hums contentedly, wriggling into the curve of Jungkook’s body as strong arms slide around his chest. Jungkook takes Jimin’s pillow and throws it someplace, leaving trails of kisses across Jimin’s nape and shoulder. “Feels good,” Jimin mumbles. He can feel his body relaxing back into slumber, safe and warm in Jungkook’s arms.

“Jimin-ah, love,” Jungkook whispers, squeezing Jimin a little tighter. “Time to get up.”

Jimin lets out a disgruntled noise. “Wanna sleep some more,” he mumbles, burying his face in the bedding. “M’tired.”

“I guess that’s what we get for staying up so late,” Jungkook muses. “But we have a lot planned for today, and you’re missing it.”

That wakes Jimin up. Now he remembers. They’re in Tokyo.

Jimin sits and shakes his head, trying to clear the cobwebs. “What time is it?” he asks, rubbing his eyes vigorously. The room is dark — only a sliver of light sneaks in through the crack of the curtains.

“Almost noon.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?”

“You looked so peaceful,” Jungkook mumbles, flipping onto his back, head in Jimin’s lap. “And we haven’t been able to sleep late in forever. You needed your rest.”

“What time did you get up?” Jimin asks, absently playing with Jungkook’s hair as he tries to get his bearings. He tries to remember the plans they have for the day, but his mind is still fogged by sleep.

“When my alarm went off. At nine.”

“What? You’ve been awake all this time?”

“Mmm.” 

Jimin's stomach rumbles, and he looks around for signs of food. “Did you eat anything?”

“Just the snacks we bought last night.”

“You could’ve ordered room service.” Jimin tries not to sound too pouty about the fact that there isn’t anything to eat in the room, but damn, now that he’s more awake, he realizes how hungry he actually is. “We could order some now.” 

“There’s no room service here.”

“What?” Jimin asks, and Jungkook only shrugs. “What kind of third-rate hotel did you bring me to, Jungkookie?” He’s joking, of course. They’ve stayed in plenty of hotels without room service, especially in the early years of their career, but it’s a bit of a shock for Jimin to realize that he’s somehow begun to take things like room service for granted.

“The kind of hotel I can afford,” Jungkook replies, a little sheepishly. “When we’re millionaires, I’ll take you to the nicest hotel in Tokyo, and you can order all the room service you want.” 

Jimin snorts. “Like we’ll ever be millionaires. We only really started making money last year.” He straddles Jungkook’s lap, pulling him into a gentle kiss. “And I was kidding about the hotel, I hope you know that. It’s nice.”

“But the room is small,” Jungkook replies, “smaller than it looked on the website.”

“That’s Tokyo for you. Who cares?” Jimin says, stretching as he heads to the bathroom. “The important thing is that we’re here together. I’d stay in a capsule hotel if it meant I could be here with you.”

“It would be like the bunkbeds in our old dorm,” Jungkook giggled. “But I don’t know if I would exactly consider sleeping in side-by-side pods being together.”

“We definitely wouldn’t have been able to do what we did last night,” Jimin responds cheekily, diving across the bed to grab another kiss. His shower can wait another minute. “There definitely wouldn’t have been enough space in one pod.”

“Our neighbors probably wouldn’t appreciate the noise either. I guess you can hear everything in those places.”

Jimin furrows his brow. “How do you know? You’ve never stayed in one.”

“My dad did— he said he could hear some guy snoring from all the way down the hall.” Jungkook presses small kisses to Jimin’s sternum, just soft and familiar, with no intention behind it. Just because he can. Just because they’re here. “Hardly got any sleep.”

Jimin chuckles. “Nevermind, forget what I said. I never want to stay in one of those, even if it is with you.”

“Why not? Because of the snoring? I snore,” Jungkook replies indignantly.

Jimin pats him on the cheek fondly, then kisses him. “No, not that, baby. I’m used to your snoring. I’m just not willing to give up the chance to fuck you every night.”

A smile slowly spreads across Jungkook’s face. “Good. I’m not willing to give that up either.”

“Good. Now let’s get ready and go eat.” 

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“Jungkook-ah, g-get your b-butt over here.” Jimin can barely get the words out, his teeth are chattering so much. 

“Is it really that cold?” Jungkook asks, widening his eyes, his face a mask of mild curiosity. Jimin isn’t fooled by his innocent act. 

“D-don’t leave me here by myself,” Jimin whines. “Come save me. Your body heat will warm me up.” It’s a bad lie — he just wants to give Jungkook a taste of his own medicine. Jungkook is the one who had come up with the cold bath punishment, and the three minutes Jimin had agreed to stay in the icy water is much too long for him to survive.

“You really think that my body heat will help you?” Jungkook says with an indulgent chuckle. “I’ll get just as cold as you, and then we’ll be two popsicles instead of one.”

“Chick-ken.”

“What did you call me?”

“Chicken. B-baby chicken.” Holy shit, Jimin thinks his nuts are about to fall off. “You’re j-just afraid to get c-cold.”

“No I’m not.”

Oh, it’s so easy to push Jungkook’s buttons.

“W-won’t even come in.”

“I’m comfortable here. I’m warm.”

The time must almost be up, but now Jimin wants to win.

“S-some b-big tough guy you are. C-can’t even handle a little c-c-cold.” The shivers turn to shudders, Jimin’s whole body vibrating from the frigid touch of the ice water. “W-whatcha gonna d-do in-n the m-m-milit-tary?”

“If you hate it so much, come back in here,” Jungkook says, and the offer is tempting, so so tempting. “You’ll be warm in no time.”

“N-nope. I’m staying h-h-here until you g-get in. Up— up t-to your neck.”

A crease of concern forms between Jungkook’s brows. “Don’t stay in there any longer. Jimin-ah, you’re freezing. Come warm up with me.”

“Hurry up-p-p and get in th-then,” Jimin slurs. He can barely feel his lips anymore, but his competitive side has taken over his common sense, or maybe he’s delirious from the cold. He’s not sure anymore. “M’not get-t-ting out until y-you d-do.”

Jungkook doesn’t argue, he doesn’t say a thing. He stands up, whipping his wet hair out of his face and climbs from the hot spring over to the cold tub. He dips a toe in and gasps, recoiling as if burned.

“What the fuck.”

“See? I t-t-told you.” Jimin's teeth chatter, but he manages a stiff smile. The look on Jungkook’s astonished face is worth it. “Get in, Ju-Jung-k-kook-ah.”

Jungkook stares at Jimin, then at his own feet, his toes at the edge of the pool. “You should get out, Jimin-ah.”

Jimin shakes his head. “N-Not until you-you get in.”

“Your lips are blue, hyung.”

“M-m-make it q-q-quick then.”

Jungkook takes one large step in, and, holding his breath, dunks himself over his head, in one swift motion. He comes up roaring. “Fuck! Ahhh fuck me!” He clings to the edge of the pool as if might be pulled under. “Is that fucking good enough for you? Ah shit, holy crap, I can’t breathe.”

Jimin wraps himself around Jungkook, sitting in his lap as they shiver together. “I d-don’t min-n-d-d being a po-po-popsicle if it’s with y-you.”

Jungkook chuckles indulgently, hugging Jimin to him even though there’s no warmth left in either of their bodies. Jungkook trembles violently against him, and Jimin is struck dumb with instant regret and guilt. “What f-flavor are we?” Jungkook asks, his icy lips kissing Jimin’s shoulder.

“H-huh? Wha?” Jimin can’t even enunciate anymore.

“What fl-flavor pop-psicle?”

Jimin laughs. Here they are, moments from certain death, and Jungkook is still cracking jokes. “Maybe b-bah-n-nah-na?” 

Jungkook is shaking his head before Jimin even finishes. “P-peach,” he says, squeezing Jimin’s frozen ass with both hands. “Now l-let’s get the f-f-f-fuck out of this fucking t-tub.”

The camera crew are allowed in to film for a bit. It’s not like anything went on they haven’t seen before, but having three people or more watching every waking move he and Jungkook make gets very old. In the midst of all this recording, they still need time to just be them, and everyone understands that.

They capture a few more scenes for the show, but even in the hot spring the heat doesn’t penetrate Jimin’s bones. He’s chilled to his core.

“You’re still cold?” Jungkook asks, running his hands up and down Jimin’s chilly thighs when Jimin snuggles up to him in the water. “Maybe we should try the sauna.”

The sauna. Jimin had completely forgotten about it.

Thankfully, the staff hadn’t— they’d turned it on earlier, and it’s already heated up and ready to go. 

“It’s a Finnish sauna,” Jungkook states, clearly trying to impress Jimin. 

He’s a little impressed.“Oh? How do you know?”

“I read the room information online, and did a little research,” Jungkook says with a nonchalant shrug. “A Finnish sauna is less humid than a regular one.”

“Huh.” Jimin knows next to nothing about saunas — all he knows is that they’re hot and make him sweat, which is exactly what he needs right now. 

“In Finland, people go into them naked.”

“Like they usually do at an onsen.” Jimin isn’t sure if he’s glad they went in with pants on or not. Experiencing the hot spring with Jungkook while naked would make for quite the memory.

Jungkook is thinking along those same lines. “Imagine if we’d gone into this onsen naked. What would ARMY think of that?” he chuckles. The staff, their cameras still trained on him and Jungkook, laugh too.

“I’d never know, because I would be an iceberg right now,” Jimin deadpans. “Just the thought of going in that cold water naked—”

Jungkook rubs his hands over Jimin’s arms, trying to warm his skin with friction. “I gotta say, I don’t think the pants we’re wearing helped keep us warm at all.”

Jimin hums thoughtfully, tapping his chin. “So what you’re saying is that we should take them off when we get in the sauna, so they won’t give us a chill,” he says, snapping the waistband of Jungkook’s swim trunks.

“What are you getting at Jimin-ssi?” Jungkook asks, a sly grin turning up the corner of his mouth.

Jimin lips brush the shell of Jungkook’s ear as he whispers, “The sauna isn’t the only way for us to warm up right now.”

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Snowboarding had turned into skiing which, by the end of the day. had turned into very sore joints. Jimin suddenly feels old — even though he’s only on the cusp of thirty, his body has been through the wringer over the years, and he has plenty of niggling injuries that all seem to hurt right now. 

Sitting first at dinner, and then in the car, has stiffened his entire body. They both sound like old men, moaning and groaning as they make the short walk from the car into the accommodations.

While Jungkook had effortlessly taken to snowboarding and skiing like the all-around prodigy he is, Jimin had spent more time on his back in the snow than sliding down the slopes. He’s proud that he had eventually gotten the hang of both, but it hadn’t come without a painful cost.

Dinner had been another gigantic meal, probably the biggest they’d yet eaten, with giant platters of meat and a stream of special dishes from the doting chef. Jimin doesn’t think he’s ever eaten as much as he has on this trip, but all of the food is just too delicious to resist. The staff had really found the most amazing places for them to eat. Soon enough they’ll have to live on military rations, so Jimin figures he might as well live it up now. Besides, they’re trying to bulk up before they enlist, and they need calories to do that. Or so Jimin tells himself.

Jungkook must be thinking about food too, because when walks through the bedroom door he says, “You know, I’ve been thinking about applying to be a cook when we enlist.”

“A cook?” Jimin asks. That’s not really the kind of job he’d envisioned Jungkook would want to do, but now that he thinks about it, it makes sense.

“Yeah, I like cooking, so I figured maybe it’ll be fun.”

Jimin frowns. “I’m not sure if anything there is going to be fun.”

“Don’t be so pessimistic,” Jungkook chides, coming up behind Jimin and wrapping his arms around his waist. “We’ll be together, and we’ll make friends.” He swings Jimin back and forth a little, hooking his chin over his shoulder and smushing their cheeks together as he talks. “Think of all the boring and hard shit we’ve already had to deal with in our jobs— we always managed to make it fun, right?” Jimin giggles as Jungkook begins to tickle him. “Right?”

“Ugh, don’t, I’m still so full.” Jimin pries Jungkook’s hands off his waist, kissing them before escaping his clutches. “We should hurry up and get in the hot tub, then wash up and eat.”

Jungkook starts laughing as he digs around in his suitcase. “Ugh, stop touching me,” he says, mimicking Jimin in a high pitched whine. “I’m so full, let’s go eat.” 

“I just—” Jimin scowls and whips Jungkook with his t-shirt. “I’m not hungry now—” He huffs in exasperation. “I thought you were cooking for us later, you brat.”

Jungkook overpowers him and takes the t-shirt from Jimin’s hand, kissing his pouty lips. “I am.” He sweeps Jimin’s hair off his face and kisses him again. 

“What is it called again?”

Jungkook, ever patient, says, “ Motsunabe,” for the umpteenth time. Jimin just can’t seem to keep that word in his head. “You’ll love it.”

“You’re cooking it— of course I’ll love it. Everything you make is delicious.”

“So hopefully you’ll like the food I make in the military, too.”

Jimin tries to hide his grin. “Please don’t tell me that’s why you want to be a cook.” 

“Actually, it’s not— but I’ll still be thinking about you while I make the food you’ll end up eating. I’m going to imagine that I’m cooking for just the two of us so it’ll be extra delicious.”

Jimin’s heart does a little flip. Jungkook is so sweet, already worrying about how well Jimin will eat once they enlist. Their relationship has spanned seven years, but Jungkook is still the same thoughtful, protective man Jimin fell in love with all those years ago, and he still possesses the magic that makes Jimin melt. 

“So you’re coming in the scuzzi with me?” Jimin asks, touching his toes as he stretches his sore back. Every joint and muscle in his body aches, and soaking in hot, soothing water is just what he needs.

“Ja- cuzzi?” 

Shit. Not again. Jimin had made the same mistake before— Jungkook is never going to let him live it down.

“Scuzzi, jacuzzi, whatever. Are you coming?”

“What exactly is it you want me to do?” Jungkook replies, face a mask of confusion. “I’m not understanding you.”

Jimin rips off his shoe, holding it up threateningly. “Don’t make me throw my slippers at you again.”

Jungkook holds his arms up to protect himself, giggling. “Yah, okay! Of course, of course I’ll go in with you. Aish. So dramatic.”

Actually getting into the jacuzzi for the first time was a whole thing. The shock of going from frigid winter air into scalding hot water had almost given Jimin a heartattack and burned his feet clear off, but eventually he acclimated to the temperature — after Jungkook turned the temperature down, that is.

They filmed that first dip in the water a while ago, had eaten the dinner Jungkook prepared afterward, and enjoyed some celebratory end-of-filming drinks with the crew — but the best part of the night had been watching the first episode of their show. Jimin is surprised at how entertaining it is, even if in that first episode he’s the butt of many of the jokes. It’s just the way it happened — Jimin’s illness had been unintentionally funny, and a bit pathetic, so naturally it’s perfect for the kind of show they’re filming.

In Jimin’s eyes, Are You Sure?! is the perfect combination of working, traveling, and just hanging out with Jungkook. As they’d been filming, they hadn’t been sure if the footage they’d shot would turn out to be anything worth watching, but it had definitely been fun for them as they were doing it, and that’s all that really mattered to Jimin. It was a good excuse to spend some extended time with the love of his life and make some memories before enlistment.

They’d already showered, changed into their pajamas and said goodnight to the crew for the night when Jungkook suggests another soak in the jacuzzi. “We can turn out the outdoor lights and look at the moon,” he proposes. “It’ll be romantic.” Jimin could never say no to that.

It begins to snow again as they sit side-by-side looking out at the black night, the bottle of whiskey and two half-full glasses nearby. In the distance, lights from down in the valley dot the peaceful scene, and white flurries float down from the sky, melting as they near the warm air coming off the balcony. “It’s the perfect last night, don’t you think?” Jungkook asks, sliding his hand up Jimin’s thigh. 

“The perfect ending to a perfect trip.” Jimin says, even though their original plan had been a bit of a flop. The moon isn’t visible on this side of the house, and the roof over the balcony hides the stars as well, but Jungkook’s eyes still shine in the dark as he shifts around, kneeling on the bottom of the tub as he faces Jimin eye-to-eye. “Well, almost perfect,” he says, taking Jimin’s hand in his, lifting the knuckles to his lips.

Jimin, thighs spread to accommodate Jungkook’s body, grins. “Almost perfect,” he agrees, leaning in for a lingering kiss. It turns heated quickly, their eagerness to leave no missed opportunities in these last few weeks burning between them, ravenous, insatiable. 

When Jungkook slides into Jimin’s lap, he places Jimin’s hands on his own ass cheeks, encouraging Jimin to fondle them, and Jimin eagerly complies, kneading them roughly. When Jimin slips under his swim trunks to graze his hole with the pad of his thumb, Jungkook’s mouth falls open and he groans, throaty and low. “Need you, Jimin-ah,” he murmurs, mouthing the sharp line of Jimin’s jaw while pressing back against his thumb, which is now making slow circles around his rim. “Wanna remember this night.”

“You and your memories,” Jimin says fondly, tilting Jungkook’s chin up and slotting their lips together. Jungkook cups his face to deepen the kiss, and Jimin swallows down his needy little moans greedily. “You want to remember every single thing about being here,” he whispers against Jungkook’s lips. “You’re so sentimental.”

“Need to remember,” Jungkook responds quietly, “for when times get hard. You know.” His eyes shine, suddenly rimmed with unshed tears. He quickly ducks his head, nuzzling into the crook of Jimin’s neck, breath shaky where it fans Jimin’s skin.

Up until now, Jimin hadn’t really been sure about how Jungkook was truly feeling about the upcoming new chapter in their relationship. Even before they’d applied for enlistment, Jungkook had been the picture of calm and optimistic about how they’d handle all the changes, but Jimin had worried that it was only a brave front. 

Over the past few years, Jungkook has learned to take things at face value and live in the moment — mostly. Overthinker Jungkook still lives in the shadows. Jimin doesn’t see that side of him very often these days, but with the stress of being torn away from everything familiar, Jimin knew his anxiety could definitely resurface. It seems he’d been right — there is more going on under the surface of Jungkook’s outward self-assurance.

“Shhh, baby,” Jimin whispers, running his fingers through Jungkook’s damp hair. “I’ve got you. And you have me— for always, yeah? I love you. Remember that, when we can’t be with each other like this.” 

Jungkook captures Jimin’s lips as he wiggles closer, arms entwined around Jimin’s neck. “I love you too,” he murmurs, “and there's no way I could ever forget that you love me. You are the best thing that ever happened to me.” He very purposefully grinds down on Jimin’s cock. “But I need to remember how this feels, too.”

Jimin chuckles. “So, in a few months, you won’t remember what my cock feels like anymore if I don’t fuck you right now? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

Jungkook hums, rotating his hips in circles, Jimin’s cock beginning to harden already. “This will be a brand new memory to revisit,” he says, a lopsided grin growing on his face. “After all, you’ve never fucked me in a scuzzi before.”

“You little shit.” Jimin splashes water at Jungkook, but kisses him while it’s still dripping down his face, trickling wetly over their attached lips. “You’re lucky I love you so much.”

Jungkook huffs. “Hah. I love you more.”

“Debatable.”

“Why aren’t you doing something to prove it then?” Jungkook asks, cocky, one eyebrow quirked. “I even came prepared.”

“Of course you did,” Jimin says, laughing as Jungkook reaches over the side of the jacuzzi, unrolling his towel. Their bottle of waterproof lube clatters onto the wooden steps. “Right here?” Jimin asks, taking a long look at their surroundings. It’s dark, the shadows deep under the covered balcony. There are no houses directly in front of them, and there’s only one window down the street that could even have a partial view. But cars could still drive by, and what if—  

“Jimin-ah, we’ve fucked in much more dangerous places than this,” Jungkook remarks, drifting backwards through the water, hovering just out of Jimin’s reach — but not for long. 

“Oh, I’m going to fuck you,” Jimin says, inching forward, eyes boring into Jungkook, predatory. He grips Jungkook’s chin firmly, forcing eye contact. “I’m going to fuck you until you cry, JK-yah.”  

Jungkook lets out a sound somewhere between a gasp and a moan, clutching Jimin’s arms to keep himself afloat. “Yes,” he chokes. “I want that.”

“I’m just worried you’ll wake up the whole street,” Jimin says with a deadly chuckle. “It’s fucking silent out here, and you’re always so damn loud when you bottom.”

“I can be quiet.” There’s a little whine in Jungkook’s voice, his lower lip pushed out in a pout, and fuck if Jimin doesn’t want to ruin him. He wants to wake up the whole street with Jungkook’s cries of pleasure. “Please, Jimin-ah.”

Jimin hums thoughtfully. He doesn’t doubt that Jungkook is willing to try, but experience has taught Jimin better. “Use the towel, baby,” he says, tossing it in Jungkook’s direction. “At least you can muffle yourself a little.” Jimin climbs into his lap, running his hands over Jungkook’s muscular chest, flicking at his nipples and earning a cut-off gasp. “Although I am going to miss hearing your beautiful voice.”

“Wait.” Jungkook suddenly straightens up, eyes alight. “I have an idea. Turn on the jets,” he says, pointing towards the control panel next to Jimin. “That should cover up some of the noise.”

Jimin pecks his lips. “Brilliant.”

The jets spring to life, sending bubbles rumbling from the jacuzzi floor, a sound like white rapids on a river. It’s perfect. Not only will the sound conceal suspicious noises, but there is so much turmoil on the surface of the water that anything below it can’t be clearly seen. 

“You ready?” Sliding his hand further down, Jimin cups Jungkook through his swim trunks. His cock is hard already, the wet fabric doing nothing to hide his arousal. “Nevermind,” he says with a chuckle, gripping him firmly. Jungkook moans, his hips involuntarily bucking up. “Always so eager for me.”

“Can you blame me?”
Jimin slides off Jungkook’s lap, giving his ass a little tap in the direction he wants Jungkook to turn. “Arms on the side, baby.” Slipping his own swimming trunks off, Jimin throws them on the wood floor with a wet thwack. “That thick ass of yours toward me.”

Obediently, Jungkook rests his head on his arms, knees on the built in bench, and grins back at Jimin. He wiggles his still-clothed ass enticingly. “Come and get it.”

“Demanding,” Jimin teases, giving him a little slap on one cheek. He tugs Jungkook’s trunks off in one motion and yanks his hips up until the tight pucker of Jungkook’s hole is right at the surface of the water. Jungkook lets out a small moan, then buries his face in the towel, remembering himself. “That— that’s so— it feels so weird.”

“Good weird or bad weird?” Jimin asks, running his hands up the backs of Jungkook’s thighs as he mouths across his ass. The muscle is firm, but Jungkook’s skin is soft as silk, perfect for marking up.

“G-good,” Jungkook chokes out, pressing back against Jimin’s thumbs that are massaging the edges of his pink rim, spreading his cheeks apart. He hisses as Jimin nips at a spot on the undercurve, sucking hard at it, long enough to leave a mark Jimin can admire for a few days.

“Can you arch a little more for me?” Jimin asks as he kisses his way up Jungkook’s spine. He reaches past him for the bottle of lube and slicks his fingers up. “Gonna eat you out, and I don’t particularly want to drown.”

“Oh my god.”

Between Jungkook’ legs, his thick cock waves around from the turbulence of the jets. Jimin wraps his hand around it, giving him a few lazy pumps and rolling his balls in his hand before focusing on Jungkook’s ass again. Goosebumps have risen on Jungkook’s skin. “You cold?” Jimin asks, fingers trailing feather-light over Jungkook’s skin. 

Jungkook shakes his head, a little shudder going through him when Jimin blows hot breath over his hole. “Fuck. Just really horny. ‘M thinking about your hot tongue on me.”

“This tongue?” Jimin licks a fat stripe from Jungkook’s perineum to his rim, circling around it, pressing just the tip to the pucker, teasing. Jungkook buries his head in his arms again, the towel gripped tightly, a choked out moan escaping his throat.  

“Fuck, yes,” Jungkook groans, pushing back, seeking more. “C’mon,” he whines when there’s nothing there. “Don’t tease.”

Jimin giggles, gently dragging his nails down Jungkook’s back and giving each cheek a quick little swat. “Whatever you want, baby.” Jungkook rests his face on the towel and reaches back, spreading his cheeks, eyes hooded, desperation written all over his face. “Fuck, Kook-ah, you’re so fucking hot like this.” Lips to skin, Jimin sucks hard again, leaving another purpling bruise on the other cheek. “And you’re all mine.”

“Always.”

Those are the last words they speak to each other. Jimin thrusts his tongue in, and it seems the breath leaves Jungkook’s lungs all at once. He lets out a muffled gasp, his hands that are still holding himself open slipping a little. He scrabbles to keep his grip, but Jimin takes one hand in his own, lacing their fingers as he whispers, “I’ve got you, it’s okay,” right against Jungkook’s hole, eliciting a throaty groan.

Lapping and thrusting his tongue into Jungkook, Jimin’s chin is slick in no time, a combination of saliva and lube and jacuzzi water making everything sloppy and wet. He loves it though — loves feeling Jungkook quiver when he easily slides in a finger alongside his tongue, when he trades his tongue for more fingers. He loves the wet squelch as Jungkook fucks himself back on Jimin’s fingers, loves how desperate Jungkook gets, loves all the melodic sounds he can’t hold back, loves making him feel good. 

Loves him.

“‘M ready,” Jungkook pants, looking back over his shoulder at Jimin. His face is flushed, sweat dripping from his nose, skin glowing in the dim light, highlighting every curve, every ripple of muscle. 

Jimin surges forward to capture Jungkook’s lips in a passionate kiss, surprised when he feels his lower lip quiver. “You okay?” Jimin whispers, his hands never leaving Jungkook’s body, gliding over the dip of his waist, down his abs, cupping his balls before taking Jungkook’s cock in hand. It’s been a while since Jungkook has bottomed, so Jimin checks in. “Too much?” 

Jungkook shakes his head. “N-need you.” There’s a quaver in his voice but Jimin lets it go. Years of trust between them means Jimin can believe Jungkook’s words and actions, and he also understands the emotional turmoil they’re both facing as these last fleeting days pass by. “Need to feel you. Need you inside me, deep, so deep.”

“I’ll make you feel good, baby,” Jimin murmurs, his own thoughts a tangle of desire, of wistfulness, of love. 

Jimin generously lubes his cock before pressing his cockhead to Jungkook’s hole, taking a moment to lock eyes with Jungkook. “I love you,” he whispers, a moan ripping from him as he sinks into Jungkook’s tight heat, velvet walls sucking him in, until he’s fully seated, cock throbbing. Jungkook whimpers, then bites the towel as Jimin begins to slowly move in and out, his steady motion punctuated by a few harder thrusts, relishing the pretty gasps that slip out of Jungkook when he does.

“Jimin-ah, Jimin, fuck,” Jungkook pants, slipping into a lyrical ah-ah-ah when Jimin starts pounding harder, harshly gripping Jungkook’s hips, The movement sloshes the water over the side of the jacuzzi, rocking Jungkook forward with each thrust, his hands braced wide on the edge, back rippling with the exertion it takes to keep himself from slipping. “More,” he rasps breathlessly, and Jimin is more than happy to give him everything he has in him.

Jimin puts one foot on the bench to get better leverage, setting a punishing pace. He grabs Jungkook’s shoulders, pulling them back, forcing him to arch even more. Jungkook’s moans are louder now and slip out more freely, but Jimin doesn’t care about how much noise they’re making anymore. His thrusts are almost frenzied as he pounds into Jungkook, as he chases the heat building low in his belly, his mind a haze of lust.

He hooks his arms under Jungkook’s shoulders, pulling him onto his knees, his back to Jimin’s chest, the perfect angle to make Jungkook scream, and he does — he cries out Jimin’s name as Jimin hits his prostate head-on. Reaching back to sink his fingers into Jimin’s hair, Jungkook tugs harshly, and the combination of pain and pleasure makes Jimin keen. Holding Jungkook as close as possible, one arm around his abdomen, the other his chest, Jimin’s fingers find Jungkook’s stiff nipple, tweaking and pulling at it.  

“Feel so good around me, Kook-ah, always so good for me,” Jimin gasps breathlessly into Jungkook’s ear, sucking his lobe into his mouth and tugging at the hoop with his teeth. He’s not sure Jungkook can hear him over his continuous wailing, head thrown back on Jimin’s shoulder, chest heaving and gaping mouth open to the sky. 

“So— ah- ah, fuck— full,” Jungkook pants, voice strangled. He clenches around Jimin, fingernails dug deeply into Jimin’s skin, and turns his head to attach their lips. “Love you,” he gasps brokenly into Jimin’s mouth, unable to maintain the kiss as Jimin plunges deeply, again and again. “Jimin-ah, fuck— want you, always,” he whispers, breath hot on Jimin’s skin. “Stay next to me forever.” 

Jimin’s orgasm hits him all at once, a train roaring in his ears and jolts of electricity zapping through him, every nerve singing, every thought JungkookJungkookJungkook. He takes Jungkook’s cock in his hand, still hard and throbbing with need, and strokes him as he rides out his climax, but it’s not quite enough to take Jungkook over the edge.

Jungkook’s knees wobble as he clutches blindly at Jimin, dropping his head as he molds himself to Jimin’s form, his cock leaking all over Jimin’s hand. “Close,” he whimpers, trying to fuck up into the tight ring of Jimin’s hand. “So close, keep going, fuck— no, no wait, Jimin-ah, don’t stop.”  

“Baby, here,” Jimin says, turning Jungkook around as his spent cock slips from Jungkook’s hole. “Sit.” He sits Jungkook gently on the edge of the tub, then sinks to his knees. Licking his lips, Jimin takes Jungkook into his mouth in one smooth motion, his nose buried in the soft hair at the base, sinking down until he feels Jungkook’s cock hit the back of his throat. He rams three fingers into Jungkook’s stretched hole, groaning as Jungkook’s entire body shudders from the sudden intrusion.

Jungkook explodes in his mouth, wailing as he pumps Jimin full of his hot cum. Jimin swallows down as much as he can, gripping tightly to Jungkook’s thighs through every tremor, bobbing his head through the last of the aftershocks, milking him greedily. Still trembling, Jungkook threads his fingers through Jimin’s hair and pulls him into a kiss — a languid, messy, lewd kiss, thick with passion but with an undercurrent of strong emotion. Jungkook knocks their foreheads together, and only then does Jimin see the tears that streak his face.

“I love you, Jungkook-ah. Nothing is going to change that.”

“Love you so much, Jimin-ah. I’m never going to let you go.”

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“Hyung, here, let me help.” Jungkook tucks a few wayward strands of Jimin’s blonde hair under his mask, making sure none is sticking out. “We don’t want anyone to recognize us.”

Jimin laughs. “No one will see our faces at all, Jungkookie. We’ll be wearing masks. You think they’ll recognize me by a lock of blonde hair?”

“I don’t want to take any chances.” Jungkook puts his mask on — the eye holes in it are smaller than Jimin’s mask and oddly shaped — and adjusts it until he can see through them. “I just want tonight to be perfect for you.”

“Aish, quiet,” Jimin murmurs, glad the mask hides the way he blushes. “I’m not the only person here, Jungkook-ah. Don’t you want to have fun too?”

“You’re the one who’s wanted to go to Shibuya for Halloween since even before we met,” Jungkook says, squeezing his large hands into black gloves that are identical to Jimin’s and a bit too small. “I don’t want it ruined.” 

“You’re sweet," Jimin says, lifting on his toes to kiss Jungkook, but giggling when he realizes that the masks make it impossible. “But I think the rain has already ruined it.” He glances toward the window where wet streaks blur the view of the city lights.

“Only if you let it.” Jungkook lifts the bottom hem of Jimin’s robe.

“What are you—”

Jungkook peeks at his feet. “Are you wearing comfortable shoes? Are they waterproof? I don’t want your feet to get sore like yesterday.”

“I’m fine. Worried you’ll have to walk slowly for me?” Jimin asks, lifting his foot so Jungkook can more closely examine his well-worn boots.

“I don’t mind walking slow if it means your feet won’t hurt.”

“You’re sweet.” Jimin sidles up to Jungkook and wraps his arms around his waist. “Worried you’ll have to massage my feet again?”

Jungkook lets out a low chuckle, his voice slipping lower into satoori as he says, “If I remember correctly, that wasn’t the only thing I massaged. I’d happily repeat last night if you’d like, whether your feet hurt or not.”

Jimin just hums in reply, because it’s sort of a given. Tokyo is about traveling together, but also about them freely exploring that side of their relationship.

They take a few goofy photos and videos before they leave the hotel — Jungkook is upset he can’t bring his camera along, but with the rain and the crowds it’s just too risky. Besides, if anyone got ahold of that memory card…

“We can use our phones if we have to,” Jimin reminds him, hugging Jungkook from behind as he stands in front of the mirror, donning a hat and practicing his best poses. “Do you think we need two umbrellas?”

Jungkook covers Jimin’s hands with his own. “Nope. The one we have is pretty big— we can share.”

The rain doesn’t seem to stop anyone from showing up in the vibrant Shibuya district for the famous Halloween street celebration. The streets are packed shoulder-to-shoulder with people dressed in every type of costume imaginable, from simple to extravagant. The rain is still steady and everyone is carrying huge black umbrellas, which makes walking around in the thick crowds a little treacherous. 

Sharing an umbrella means Jimin has a reason to cling to Jungkook, which puts him at ease — it would be easy to accidentally get separated in this crowd. But after a while they give up on the umbrella anyway — it’s just too difficult to maneuver, and they have hats on anyway. Jungkook carries the abandoned umbrella in one hand, while he intertwines the other with Jimin’s. 

Leaning close to his ear, Jimin thinks he hears Jungkook say, “So you don’t get lost.” His voice is muffled by the mask and hard to pick up through all the noise of celebration around them, but with a squeeze of Jimin’s hand he makes his intent clear. It makes Jimin giggle — it’s such a Jungkook thing to tease him this way, pretending that he’s only holding Jimin’s hand so he doesn’t get lost and not because it’s something they normally never get to do.

Anonymity is their friend. Jimin feels free for the first time in forever — even while they’re amongst all of these people, they are completely unidentifiable. No one can even tell it’s two men holding hands. Jimin feels like a normal person in love, with no reason to feel afraid about what other people might think to see them like this. It makes him feel truly alive, electrified by just this simple physical link in a public place.

Carefully weaving through the crowd, Jungkook cuts a path for Jimin to follow close behind, their hands never separating. They marvel at the intricate costumes as they walk, and when asked, happily stop to take pictures with people who are unsuspecting of their real identities, giggling through each interaction, giddy to be getting away with it. 

Jungkook ridiculously lowers his voice when he speaks to them, and tries to change his dialect and intonation for each group of people, as least as much as his sketchy Japanese will allow. They get a few weird looks but most people are sweet and thankful, the vibe on the street one of joyful harmony.

When someone in a large costume almost knocks Jimin over, Jungkook pulls him out of the way and blocks him from the crowds with his entire body, caging him against a wall. “Are you okay?” he asks, rubbing his hand up and down Jimin’s arm, glancing behind him at the crush of people passing by. “You could’ve been hurt.” Even through the eye holes in Jungkook’s mask Jimin can see the genuine concern in his eyes, and it makes his heart flip.

“Yeah, of course I am,” Jimin says casually, trying to hide how touched he is by such a simple gesture, “but actually, I need to eat something.” With a bit of difficulty, Jimin hitches up his robe and fishes his phone out of his pocket, sliding off his glove. He checks the map again. “We’re not too far from the restaurant. Are you hungry?”

“Always hungry,” Jungkook quips, leaning close to his ear before finishing his thought, “for you.” He curls his hands around Jimin’s waist, but backs up quickly when a police officer passes close by. “Shit.”

Jimin giggles. “It’s okay— they can’t even tell I’m a guy, baby.”

“Oh. Right.” Jungkook chuckles. “So that means I can—” He creeps closer, sliding his hands up Jimin’s robe and wrapping his arms around his waist, humming happily — but his hands start gradually sliding lower. Jimin knows exactly where this is going, and at any other time he would welcome it, but there are approximately a hundred thousand people in Shibuya tonight. 

Shoving him away, Jimin kicks playfully at his shin. “Jungkook-ssi, cool it— save that for when we get back to the hotel, hmmm?”

Jungkook pouts cutely, but looks around at the throngs of people passing by and nods. “Yeah, okay.”

Jimin giggles and grabs his hand, setting off in the direction of the restaurant. Jungkook stumbles along, laughing. “Let’s go eat some noodles, baby.” 

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

A little tipsy, a lot wet, and tired from spending two whole days walking what feels like the entire length of Tokyo, they decide to take a taxi back to the hotel. Jungkook’s flirting hadn’t let up the entire time they’d been at the restaurant — he takes great pride in how easily Jimin blushes when he makes a double entendre in public, and when he’s in a mood, he never misses an opportunity. 

But his persistence had worked, like it usually did. By the time they’d scarfed down their dinner and finished off a few beers, Jimin’s embarrassment had evaporated and he’d flirted right back — carefully. Masks set aside while they’d eaten, they’d managed to attract a little attention, making it imperative to be discreet. With difficulty, Jimin had managed to hold back any forms of physical affection, substituting intense eye contact and the little inside jokes to get his point across. 

Their costumes, soaking wet and crumpled on the floor of the back seat of the taxi, accidentally get left behind in their haste to get back to their hotel room.

Once they’re through the door, Jungkook pins Jimin to the wall, thigh between Jimin’s legs. “Is this private enough for you?” he murmurs right into his ear, lips ghosting along the shell. “Is this what you were waiting for?” His eyes smolder with desire, body pressed up against Jimin, nuzzling down Jimin’s neck as he waits for a response.

Jimin can't help it — he still gets tongue tied when Jungkook acts so shamelessly, even though it’s been months since they became official, and almost as long since they’d begun fucking. This inability to find his voice is new to Jimin, and only reserved for Jungkook — no one else has this kind of effect on him. He shivers, a combination of chills from being out in the cold rain and the effect of Jungkook’s hot breath on his skin.

“Mmmm, are you cold? I know just the thing to warm you up.”

Jimin bites his lip, giggling nervously, but his body responds involuntarily as he melts in Jungkook’s arms. Jimin winds his hands in Jungkook’s hair, pulling him even closer, rutting against the thigh parting his legs. “I bet you do.”

Jungkook leans in, and Jimin closes his eyes in anticipation of Jungkook’s lips on his own — but instead, they make contact with the tip of his nose. “A hot shower.”

“A shower?” That wasn’t at all what Jimin had expected him to say. It throws his completely off balance. 

Jungkook cracks a lopsided grin. “You sound disappointed.”

“N-no,” Jimin responds. “A hot shower sounds good, I guess.” There’s nothing Jimin loves more than a hot shower when he’s cold, and Jungkook knows it, but fuck. Jimin feels like he was just rejected by his own boyfriend.

“Don’t want you to get sick,” Jungkook says sweetly, cupping Jimin’s face and dropping a single kiss to his lips. “We have all those schedules when we get home.”

Jimin’s mind is spinning from the drastic change in his mood, but Jungkook is still smiling, and Jimin can’t tell if he’s actually being serious or not. 

“You’re bringing up our schedules? Jungkook-ah, I thought we agreed not to talk about work while we’re here.”

Jungkook lifts Jimin’s knuckles to his lips, kissing each in turn. “I can’t be concerned about my boyfriend’s health?”

Yes, it’s a sweet sentiment, but Jimin is getting a little annoyed now. “I thought you were more concerned with getting into my pants tonight, but I guess I was wrong.” He kicks off his wet shoes, a little too forcefully, and they just miss Jungkook — they smack into the wall instead, leaving a grimy smudge on the wallpaper. He glances down at Jungkook’s boots — they’re soaking wet too, and leaving dirty footprints on the carpet. It gives Jimin a thought. “Unless— you know, you’re drenched and probably cold, too. Wanna join me?” He looks up at Jungkook through his lashes and gives him his flirtiest smile.

“Nah, I’m fine. I’ll just hang out on the bed while you shower, check out the pictures I took earlier. Maybe I’ll catch up on some emails.” 

Emails? Jimin thinks, steaming, Since when does Jungkook worry about his fucking emails?

Jungkook pats Jimin on the ass, pushing him toward the bathroom — it has a glass wall facing the rest of the room, and the shower stall is glass walled as well, maybe to make the tiny hotel room seem bigger than it is. 

There isn’t room in the hotel room for much more than a bed and bathroom, but that doesn’t bother Jimin. They’ve come to Tokyo to explore, to experience what it’s like to be young and free and out in the city on their own — the only prerequisite he cares about in a hotel is a double bed and some privacy.

Being together without worrying about how much noise they’re making, or what the other members think, is on the list of top priorities for while they’re here. They’d gotten good at finding creative ways around those problems — including that one time, before their families had known about their relationship, they’d squeezed into Jimin’s childhood bed. 

It had been dangerous and cramped and just a little weird — but more than that, it had been thrilling. Jimin had felt like a teenager who’d snuck his boyfriend in through an open window, and since then they’d been known to hook up in other clandestine places. The risk of being caught is a bit of an aphrodisiac for Jimin — not the risk of being caught by the media or the public, just the idea that someone might walk in on them when Jungkook is balls deep. Someone who will keep their secret safe, someone who already knows — but someone who would probably rather not see them actually in the act itself.

Now that same boyfriend is lounging on a sea of white fluffy pillows, ankles crossed, grinning down at his camera like Jimin’s not even there.

Jimin scowls and trudges to the bathroom, unceremoniously stripping off his damp clothing and chucking them on the floor before stepping into the shower. The hot water cascades over his head and down his body — it feels heavenly and warms him instantly, both the grime of the city streets and his foul mood washing away with the soap suds, disappearing down the floor drain. 

The shower had been a good idea after all. It reminds Jimin that Jungkook knows him better than Jimin sometimes knows himself. Grateful for his insight and insistence, Jimin blinks the water out of his eyes and peers through the glass in Jungkook’s direction. What he sees makes him step out of the shower spray entirely and wipe his eyes more thoroughly. 

Somehow in the short time Jimin had been shampooing his hair, Jungkook has lost his clothing. He’s laying on the bed in only his black boxer briefs, camera set aside, eyes laser focused on Jimin. When he notices Jimin watching him, he arches a single eyebrow, and without breaking eye contact, he very intentionally and purposefully palms his noticeable bulge.

Oh. So that’s how it is.

Jimin turns his back again, pretending he is unaware of the way Jungkook’s eyes follow his every move. Slowly he soaps up his body, hands moving sensually over every inch of his skin, following every curve, arching into his own touch. He turns to peek over his shoulder — Jungkook has his hand in his briefs now and is teasing his nipple with a thumb, lower lip tucked between his teeth.

Jimin holds back a moan, his cock stirring in interest by the mere act of being observed in such a clandestine way. His urge to perform takes over — if Jungkook wants to watch, Jimin can certainly put on a show.

Pretending not to notice Jungkook’s quickening hand movements and hooded eyes, Jimin puts one foot up on the shower bench and caresses his ass cheeks. It could be interpreted as a purely innocent movement — maybe he’s only doing a thorough job of cleaning himself, except Jimin knows exactly what effect it will have on Jungkook. 

Bingo. He’s got Jungkook’s full attention now. Even though Jimin can’t hear him above the rush of the water, he can imagine the sound that rips from Jungkook’s throat, his mouth agape as Jimin pushes his fingers into his own mouth, rolling his tongue around them, slicking them up with his saliva. 

Jungkook hastily pushes his briefs down and kicks them off, hand wrapped around his hard cock instantly. Jimin turns just slightly, giving Jungkook a perfect view as he pulls one cheek to the side and slides a delicate finger across his hole, letting it linger there before pushing in up to the knuckle. 

Jimin gives up on subtlety, and his leisurely pace — he locks eyes with Jungkook as he arches his back, plunging another finger in, harshly opening himself up as water runs into his open mouth and trickles down his chin.  His skin, flushed red by the heat of the shower, matches the heat beginning to grow in his belly as he watches Jungkook thrust up into his hand, panting hard, gaze searing.

When the pad of Jimin’s finger grazes his prostate, his knees buckle and he has to lean against the wall to stay upright — this time he can hear Jungkook over the thrum of the water. He looks positively sinful, a sheen of sweat highlighting every sculpted muscle, expression equal parts desire and desperation.

This charade has gone on long enough. 

Turning off the water, Jimin forgoes a towel or bathrobe — he slips back into the bedroom completely naked and soaking wet, crawling onto the bed and up Jungkook’s body, straddling him, his cock hard where it sits in the cleft of Jimin’s ass. Jungkook’s hands immediately grip his hips, pads of his fingers digging into his flesh. Cool water runs rivulets down Jimin’s body, dripping everywhere, making everything slippery, making Jimin shiver.

“Jimin-ah,” Jungkook gasps, “you make me fucking crazy.”

Jimin rolls his hips a little, feeling Jungkook’s cock jump under him. “Was this your plan?” Jimin purrs, wet fingers toying at Jungkook’s stiff nipples. “Is this what you were hoping would happen?”

“Y-yes,” Jungkook stutters.

“Spying on me? Hmmm?” Jimin asks, gently scraping his blunt nails down Jungkook’s chest. “Is that why you booked this room— one with a glass bathroom?”

“N-nooo.” Jungkook groans, hands sliding back to Jimin’s ass, kneading it, using his firm grip to push Jimin’s hips down hard, grinding him against his cock. “Just— just a happy accident.”

Jimin almost giggles, then remembers himself. “S’okay, baby. I liked you watching me.”

“I liked watching you,” Jungkook murmurs, bucking up when Jimin latches his lips onto his nipple, tugging at it with his teeth. “You’re so fucking hot, hyung.”

Jimin notices the camera laying off to the side. “Jungkook-ah, did you film me?” he asks, smirking.

“No!” Jungkook gasps, eyes going wide. “I would never—”

Putting a finger to Jungkook’ lips to silence him, Jimin purrs, “Well, since you're so in love with that camera of yours, maybe you should.”

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Morning rolls around, the sky sunny and clear for the first time since they'd stepped onto Japanese soil. There’s no reason to get out of bed so early, but Jimin can’t sleep. He’d gotten a text from his dad overnight, telling him that Jimin’s younger cousin will be enlisting next month. It’s been on Jimin’s mind ever since.

What will enlistment even look like for Bangtan? It seems unlikely they’ll all go together, not with the large age gap between Seokjin and Jungkook. But does that mean the group will be on hiatus that whole time? Or will they continue performing and releasing music, just without whatever member is currently serving? 

There have been K-pop groups who have done it both ways — but maybe he’s getting ahead of himself. Maybe Bangtan won’t even make it that far. Seokjin still has a few years to go before he needs to enlist — it’s very possible they’ll disband before that. The stress of the past few years has been hard on all of them. After struggling for so long in an attempt to succeed, it had never occurred to them that their success would bring a whole new kind of stress, one they weren’t prepared to handle.

And the other question, perhaps weighing more heavily on Jimin’s mind — what will it mean for Jungkook and him?

Jungkook won’t be required to enlist until six months after Jimin’s return — will their relationship survive two periods of separation lasting eighteen months each? They’re not used to spending even a day apart. Many couples break up before enlistment, because the reality of expecting a lover to wait that long on a promise of a future together is too much.

Perhaps it’s too much for Jimin to expect, too.

Jungkook rolls over and, finding Jimin’s spot empty, sits up and looks around.

“Jimin-ah? Why are you sitting over there?”

Jimin hums. He’s not sure his ruminations are even worth mentioning. The future is coming. There’s nothing anyone can do to stop it, and there’s no way to predict what it will be or how he’ll handle it until it gets here. “Thinking.”

Jungkook grabs his hand and pulls him back to bed. Jimin tumbles on top of him, grateful for the kisses Jungkook peppers over his face, grateful for the distraction and the reminder that there are positive things in his life he should be focusing on instead.

“What about?”

Jimin gazes at Jungkook. His face is curious, but not worried. Again, Jimin wonders if it’s fair to dump all of his disjointed thoughts on Jungkook, but out of all the promises they’d already made to each other, the most important one is honesty.

“Have you put any real thought about how far we’ll get? Realistically, I mean. Not in some ideal world.”

“Bangtan? Yeah, I think all of us have, especially after the year we’ve—”

Jimin shakes his head. “No. Not Bangtan. Us,” he clarifies quietly. “Me and you.”

“Me and you?” Jungkook sits upright, eyes wide. He looks shocked. “Why, are you—? What?”

Jimin rushes to reassure him. “No, baby. No. It’s not like that.” He kisses Jungkook, cradling his head in his hands as if he is something precious, and he is. The most precious, perfect thing in Jimin’s life, and the last thing he’d ever want is for Jungkook to question his love and commitment. “I mean, we’ve talked about the future as if it’s this straight line, as if it’s easy.”

Jungkook tilts his head, his brow furrowing. “I never thought it would be easy.”

“Have you thought about our military service?”

“Uh, no,” Jungkook says with a wry chuckle. “I try not to think about that at all. That’s a long way away, and I’m too busy to worry about that kind of thing.”

“Well, I worry about it— I am worrying about it,” Jimin says softly, a twinge of apprehension twisting his stomach.

“You are?” Jungkook sweeps the hair away from Jimin’s eyes and searches his face. “What are you worried about?”

Jimin chews his lip. “Will we make it through? Being separated like that?” he asks sincerely, but his eyes flicker away from Jungkook, ashamed he’s even having these thoughts. “It’s been years since we’ve spent any time away from each other, and if I go first, it feels like too much for me to ask of you—”

“What? To wait?” Jungkook replies, incredulous. “Too much to ask me to wait for you?”

“I don’t know if it’s fair.”

“Jimin-ah, I love you to death, but you’re being ridiculous,” Jungkook says, cupping his cheek tenderly. “Let me put it to you this way. Would I be asking too much of you to wait for me until I’m discharged?”

Jimin’s response is immediate. “No, of course not.” He says it without thinking. Of course he would wait. 

“Then don’t assume you know how I feel about waiting for you.”

“I—” Jimin stops, shame flooding him. “Fuck. I’m sorry.” He covers his face with his hands. “I just got all up in my own head and my cousin is enlisting in a few weeks and this morning I couldn’t stop thinking about it, because the thought of being away from you for even a day makes me feel like my chest is being crushed, and I—”

“Jimin-ah, love, slow down,” Jungkook says, kissing Jimin’s lips to shut him up. He takes Jimin’s hands in his, thumbs stroking his knuckles soothingly. “I have an easy solution.” 

“Easy?” Jimin rips his hands away. Nothing about this is easy. Why would Jungkook even think that there’s some easy answer to something as threatening to their relationship as forced conscription? A forced separation, for months on end? Why is he smiling?   

“We enlist together.”

“But—” Jimin must have heard him wrong. “Together? You have two more years than me before you’d have to go— why would you want to go early and cut out the best years of your career?” he asks, his mind refusing to even contemplate it. In Jimin’s eyes, this is an even bigger sacrifice than making Jungkook wait for him. “You’d be sacrificing way too much, Jungkook-ah. I can’t let you do that. Why? Why would you even consider it?” 

“Why? Because I love you, and I don’t want to be separated from you either,” Jungkook says simply, not disturbed by Jimin’s outburst in the slightest. “I’ll lose eighteen months of my career either way, but at least this way I won’t lose you too.”

“We could really do that?”

Jungkook nods, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “There’s this guy my brother knows who did the buddy system with his friend, and the two of them were stationed together and got to sleep next to each other and everything. We could do that. No— I want to do that. I want to stay right next to you, always.”

Without fail, Jimin seems to fall in love with Jungkook a little more every single day. There's always a moment where he swoons a little, where his heart flutters, where he wants to get down on his knees in gratitude that the universe shifted to link them together. This moment trumps all the ones that came before. In this moment, he knows he’s the luckiest man on earth. 

“Really?”

“I promise,” Jungkook says, placing a tender kiss on Jimin’s lips. “When it’s time to go, I’ll enlist with you. No matter what.”

“What if we don’t last that long?” Jimin whispers, because while he’s being honest, he might as well let every little insecurity show. He knows it’s stupid, and he already knows what Jungkook’s answer will be, but it needs to come out. Jimin needs to say it out loud to put it to rest.

“We will. I can promise that, too.”

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Jimin can’t shake the melancholy that fell over him overnight. The day emerged gray and gloomy, and it matches his mood precisely.

Padding quietly out of the bedroom so as not to wake Jungkook, Jimin puts on layer after layer before braving the cold of the outdoor balcony. He has a lot on his mind, and he needs a little peace and quiet to try to get out of his head. A cold nose and frozen fingers are worth some clarity.

Their flight back to Seoul isn’t until later today, but their trip might as well be over. There are only a few things to wrap up here in Sapporo and then it’ll be time to say goodbye — to Japan, to the crew who have become friends, to the last getaway he and Jungkook will have before harsh reality comes crashing down. 

Jimin isn’t ready to let it go — any of it.

He sits on the steps to the hot tub, taking in the beauty of the view in daylight. Snow still covers the peaks of the nearby houses, and dripping icicles hang over the side of the villa — it’s warm enough now that the snow has begun to melt. They’re leaving at the perfect time.

In the distance is a full view of Mount Yotei, the one Jungkook kept calling Maruyama as they’d driven to the ski resort the day before, its snow-covered crater at the top obscured by the low clouds. It’s beautiful, and distantly Jimin wonders if snow will still hold such beauty in his eyes after he spends eighteen months stationed at the northern border.

The heat from the hot tub behind him seeps through the back of Jimin’s coat — that and the fact that he's protected from the wind on this side of the house leaves him warmer than he’d thought he’d be. 

His phone buzzes in his hand — it’s one of his managers, already wanting to discuss his schedule for tomorrow. Jimin doesn’t want to think about tomorrow. He doesn’t want to count the days he has left, doesn’t want to think about packing and shaving his head and being away from all his family and friends, doesn’t want to give up his freedom.

Jimin’s brain is already swirling with everything the hyungs have told them about their own experiences, and what they’ve seen and heard from other soldiers, but none of it seems real. He can’t picture either himself or Jungkook in those situations. Military enlistment is his duty and he’s not afraid to serve, just like every other able-bodied man in South Korea does, but the unknown is making him feel prickly.

Jungkook will be there, Jimin reminds himself, clinging to that thought. Jungkook could have chosen to wait to enlist, gone on tour like Yoongi had — but in the end, despite the endless opportunities thrown his way, all the incentives to wait longer, Jungkook had kept his promise. He’d enlisted with Jimin when the time had come, without an ounce of hesitation.

It shouldn’t have surprised Jimin, but it had. Still does, a little. Over the years, they’ve gone through every twist and turn imaginable, and they’ve always made it through — but this will require another level of commitment, one that, honestly, Jimin still isn’t sure is fair to ask of Jungkook. It’s the same concern he’d had when Jungkook had first made the promise. 

But once again, true to his word, Jungkook insists this is what he wants. He steadfastly maintains that he’d rather be with Jimin than out on tour by himself, or an even worse consequence, prolonging the time they’ll be separated. 

They haven’t had to hide their relationship from those close to them for a long time, though — and now they’ll be living and sleeping shoulder-to-shoulder with younger men who must absolutely never discover the truth. It’s one thing to hide what they mean to each other for an interview, or for a day or two, or even a week or two while they’re being filmed. It’s another thing to live side-by-side with others for more than a year, without being able to share even a simple, secret kiss, for fear of being jailed, or beaten, or both.

The happy memories they’d made in Sapporo, and the intimate moments they’d shared, including in the jacuzzi Jimin is sitting right next to, would need to hold them over. There would be days off, and probably some fun along the way, but the freedom he and Jungkook have felt on each of their trips over the past few months won’t come again for a long time.

All of a sudden it seems ludicrous to be sitting out here in the cold by himself, ruminating over the loss of his freedom — Jimin could be inside, snuggled up with his boyfriend, cherishing every last moment they have together.

Jimin passes through the house, telling the crew he’s going to wake Jungkook up as he kicks off his shoes and slides across the smooth wood floors in his socks. He can’t descend the steps fast enough. All he wants is to spend as long as he can wrapped in Jungkook’s embrace, letting the whole world slip away — every fear about the future, every unknown, every single doubt that Jimin has. None of it matters when Jungkook is next to him.

Stripping off most of his clothing, Jimin slides under the sheets in just his underwear and sticks his frozen feet against Jungkook’s bare legs.

Jungkook jerks awake beside him, yelping. “What the— Jiminie, fuck.” He hisses and rolls away, sticking his feet off the side of the bed to try to keep Jimin’s feet off of him. 

Jimin giggles, and putting his feet on Jungkook’s lower back, wraps his cold hands around Jungkook’s neck. “But I'm cold.”

“Yah! You are!” Jungkook shrieks, arching away from him before counterattacking, wrapping his limbs around Jimin from the back, trapping his arms and legs. “Gotcha.”

Jimin sighs, content for the moment. “We only have a few minutes to cuddle,” he says regretfully. There’s nothing he’d like more than to stay here indefinitely and steal one more fuck before they leave, but their schedules won’t wait for anyone. Fuck, Jungkook has to leave for America tomorrow.

Jungkook groans. “Let me guess, interview first?”

“Yeah, before we leave the house.”

Jungkook presses warm lips to the nape of Jimin’s neck, right on his crescent moon, his favorite spot. “Where were you?” he asks, rubbing Jimin’s arms vigorously. “Why are you so cold?”

“Out on the balcony,” Jimin murmurs, his eyes closing against his will. Jungkook is so warm, and Jimin is so tired. “Looking at the view.”

“Sure.” Jungkook’s voice drips in sarcasm.

“What do you mean, sure?” Jimin asks, tweaking his nipple. Jungkook yipes and wiggles away, sitting up on the side of the bed. “I can’t enjoy the scenery?”

Jungkook ruffles his hair, but it does no good. All the strands return right back to their bowl-cut position, and Jimin stifles a giggle. God knows what the stylists will say when they get home.

“Maybe you can,” Jungkook says with a shrug, “but the only thing I will ever be able to remember about that balcony is what we did last night.” He smirks at Jimin, but shifts uncomfortably where he sits. Jimin can imagine how sore his ass must be this morning.

“Last night? Oh, you mean when we played rock, paper, scissors to see who had to lay down in the snow?” Jimin asks, scooting up behind Jungkook and coyly laying his head on his shoulder.

“Yep. That,” Jungkook deadpans, dropping a kiss on Jimin’s nose before standing and stretching. The purple bruises on his ass had bloomed beautifully, and Jimin’s only thought is Mine. He’s all mine . Jungkook snaps his fingers in front of Jimin’s face. “Are you done staring at my ass?”

Jimin takes a swipe, trying to grab Jungkook and pull him back to bed, but misses. “No. Not really.”

Jungkook grins. “I’m gonna shower. Wanna join me?”

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The crew is all set up for the wrap-up interview, the very last one, by the time they walk up the stairs from their room. The entire house has been packed up, and the only pieces left to get loaded into the van are Jimin and Jungkook’s suitcases.

“Over here, guys.” 

The cameras are set up in front of one of the couches in the living room. Jimin looks around the open upstairs area of the house — they’d made so many happy memories here, even though they’d only stayed a single night.

There are no questions for this interview, just a few conversation ideas from the producers that he and Jungkook can choose to expand upon, or not. Everything about this show had been left up to their discretion.

“Explain your feelings about traveling and recording the show.” 

“Talk about the favorite things you’ve done.” 

“Go into your thought process regarding deciding where to travel, and why.” 

“Will you do another season of Are You Sure?!”

Briefly reading over the production prompts, in the end the two of them just sort of ramble about their feelings with no particular direction. After seeing the edit of the first episode, they trust the producers will be able to make some sense of it — and besides, it’s better if they just be themselves. That’s what the whole show is about.

“Somehow, we subconsciously said we wanted to come to Sapporo,” Jungkook says, and it’s true. When deciding on a winter destination, it was the first place that came to both their minds, probably because of the memories they’d made back in 2016. They’d traveled with Bangtan to Sapporo during promotions for the Japanese version of I Need U, holding a fanmeet and getting to spend a little downtime enjoying the city. 

It had been during a time when Jungkook first began to return Jimin’s rather persistent interest, and the tension between them had been electric, even then — but it would take them another year to finally get their act together. To Jimin, that era always feels like the beginning of them.   

Jimin vaguely mentions the good memories they’d made here before, and how he’d wanted to view the beautiful scenery again.

But what Jungkook says next is a surprise.

“And we went to Tokyo for our first trip,” he says, turning to look straight at Jimin and running his hand across the back of his shoulders. “That’s why I wanted to come back.” He says the last sentence in the softest voice, the one Jimin only hears when Jungkook is at his most honest, his most vulnerable. A voice reserved for Jimin and Jimin alone.

Jimin’s breath hitches and his eyes well with tears. “Why didn’t you tell me that?” he asks, wiping his eyes as he glances at the staff. “Edit this part out please,” he says with a weak chuckle. “The crying, I mean.”

“Of course.”

“I thought you knew,” Jungkook says quietly. “I thought—”

It finally clicks. “Because of the promise we made back then?” Jimin asks, but he already knows it’s true. Jungkook might not always be good at talking about his feelings, but his actions always have true intent behind them — of course he had a hidden, deeper meaning for this last trip. A return to Japan.

“It feels full circle, doesn’t it?” he asks softly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on Jimin’s back. “Coming back here, just before we go?”

A tear slips down Jimin’s cheek and he nods. “Maybe this is the first place we should visit when we’re discharged, too. Start the circle over again.” 

And maybe that’s the secret to how he’ll get through this whole enlistment situation. A brief pause, a change of direction, a detour on the road to their forever — but only a moment in the big scheme of things.

“We could go to Okinawa next time,” Jungkook suggests. “It’s more tropical than Jeju. We could hang out on the beach, drink fruity cocktails.”

“You and your fruity drinks,” Jimin laughs, sniffling.

“Should we learn to scuba dive?” Jungkook adds. “I hear the reefs there are beautiful.”

“Okay, I guess,” Jimin says with a shrug. “It would be something to look forward to.”

“Jimin-ah, we have a whole life to look forward to.”

Years. They have years and years to go. Eighteen months is nothing. “Together?” Jimin asks, another question he already knows the answer to, but he can never hear it enough.

“Together. I’ll be right there, next to you.”