2

The next week Taehyung gets it into his head that Jimin needs to go out.

"How will you meet your soulmate, if you're sitting at home on the couch, eating ice-cream?" Taehyung demands, stealing the tub of Strawberry Cheesecake off of Jimin's lap.

"Tae," Jimin says, wrestling it back, "that's exactly what you did."

It doesn't matter that it's the truth. That Taehyung had wooed one worldwide handsome Kim Seokjin with tubs and tubs of ice-cream, in every flavor. That said seduction had successfully occurred on this very couch.

That Yoongi had screeched when he found out and demanded Taehyung pay for extensive dry cleaning, and subsequently banned Taejin collectively from the living room.

None of that matters in Taehyung's short lived memory because now that Taehyung is deliriously happy, he can’t stand the idea of Jimin being all alone.

Ergo, they have to go out.

“It’ll be fun, Jiminnie,” Taehyung wheedles, pushing Jimin past a stony faced Jungkook to get to the door. “There’ll be loads of hot guys there.”

“That’s what you said the last time,” Jimin sighs, “and look what happened.”

Still Jimin obediently goes, because Taehyung is insistent and excited, a combination that no one can resist.

“Tae,” Jimin says, when Taehyung disappears out the front door, talking a mile a minute to their driver, “hold on!”

A shadow looms over Jimin where he’s stooped on the ground, dragging on a pair of black leather boots and he glances up, ready to berate Taehyung, when.

“Jungkook?”

Jungkook’s standing in front of their walk-in closet, his arms crossed over his chest. He takes Jimin in slowly, his eyes trailing up Jimin’s tight black jeans, to the soft Valentino shirt he has on, stopping finally on Jimin’s face.

“Are you sure you want to go?” He asks, digging his hands into his pocket.

He looks lost, and forlorn, two expressions Jimin’s not used to seeing on Jungkook’s usually animated face.

“What’s going on with you, hmm?” Jimin teases, already reaching for Jungkook as he stands. He wraps his arms around Jungkook, pulling him in close so he can tuck his chin over Jungkook’s shoulder, “you usually can’t wait to get us out of the house.”

Jungkook sighs, his big shoulders relaxing into Jimin’s touch, but his hands stay firmly in his pockets, a tell tale sign that something’s up.

“What’s wrong, Jungkookie?” Jimin says softly, squeezing him around the middle.

Jungkook’s shoulders shift against Jimin’s cheek in a shrug.

“Do you want us to stay with you?”

Jungkook frowns, his eyes flicking to the open collar of Jimin’s silky shirt and the way it keeps slipping down lower as he moves, revealing the shadow of two perfect collarbones.

“No,” he says.

Jimin cups his cheek, turning his face this way and that, and Jungkook stares back, big doe eyes serious as he looks at him.

“I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong,” Jimin says, softly.

Jimin would keep holding him, would hug Jungkook forever if that’s what it would take to get that sad, lost look off his face. But Taehyung's voice begins echoing down the corridor and Jungkook hasn't asked him to stay.

“I’m going to go,” Jimin says pulling away, reluctantly, “I have to go, the driver’s already waiting.”

Jimin’s about to step through the door when he turns around to see Jungkook, still standing in the hallway exactly where Jimin left him, watching him go. And all of a sudden Jimin doesn’t really want to go to Gangnam anymore, not with Jungkook at home, wearing his comfy sweats, looking like a lost puppy.

“Hyung,” Jungkook says, biting his lip. He steps forward, and this close Jimin can smell the scent of their laundry detergent, the heady smell of lavender mixed in with the warm smell of Jungkook’s skin as he closes the distance between them.

His thumb grazes the curve of Jimin’s jawline, callused fingers gentle against Jimin’s skin before they dip lower, bolder in their exploration. Jimin sucks in a breath at how warm his hands are, when they slip lower, caressing the curve of his collarbones.

“Jungkook--" Jimin begins, and then stops because he forgets what he was going to say.

Jungkook nimbly buttons Jimin’s shirt to the collar, smoothing it down once before he steps away, but even then Jimin can’t help but feel the ghost of his touch burning straight through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Go on then,” Jungkook says, stepping back to let Jimin through. “Have fun.”

“I thought you were going out,” Jungkook says a week later when he stumbles into the kitchen to find Jimin there, pouting at his phone.

“I am,” Jimin says, frowning at his inbox which reads ‘no new messages’, “or that was the plan, but clearly that’s not going to happen because this asshole doesn’t know how to reply a text message.”

It turned out that Taehyung’s party idea hadn’t been a total bust.

It was a fun party and there were plenty of hot guys as promised.

Jimin had met Kibum who was standing by the watercooler, his biceps jumping as he leaned over to take a long drink from the fountain.

“Hey,” Kibum had said, swiping his hand across his mouth. “I’m Kibum.”

That’s how it begins, like every one of Jimin’s flings, giddy and exciting and filled with promise until—

Until Kibum had kissed him on the cheek and sent him home, promising to ‘hang out’ some other time, and then… never called.

So it’s Taehyung’s big stupid fault that Jimin’s dressed up in a silky button down that complements his skin and jeans so tight they could be painted on.

Both are supremely uncomfortable and Jimin can barely breathe, but he looks amazing.

Not that it matters, since it’s already seven o’clock and he still hasn’t heard a peep.

“Hey,” Jungkook says, laying his hand over Jimin’s wrist, waiting until Jimin looks away from his phone screen to speak. “Let’s go out for dinner, just the two of us.”

“Really?” Jimin says, blinking owlishly, “why?”

Jungkook’s mouth curves.

It’s cute, it’s a little sexy.

“Why not?”

It's a good question...Jimin doesn’t really have a response to that one.

“Don’t you want to?” Jungkook says, cocking his hip as he gestures at Jimin with his half eaten protein bar, “this Kibum guy is clearly a flake.”

“You’re one to talk Mister I-Don’t-Answer-My-Texts-Because-I-Don’t-Have-To."

“It’s only Namjoon hyung’s texts I don’t answer,” Jungkook mumbles, “and it’s because it’s usually about us taking on more work.”

Jimin laughs, tweaking Jungkook's nose. "True, but not nice."

Jungkook ducks his head, his shoulder brushing warmly against Jimin's arm. “I always answer your texts, though.”

“I know,” Jimin says, ruffling his hair, “you’d come running if I asked.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Jungkook says, but he’s grinning.

"So, you want to go out?"

Jungkook shrugs, "yeah."

"You? Jeon Jungkook," Jimin says, carefully enunciating each word, like he's speaking a foreign language and Jungkook won't understand if he doesn't, "want to go out."

Jungkook nods.

"You," Jimin says, even slower this time, "want to go out for dinner?"

Another nod.

"With me?"

Jungkook rolls his eyes, "yes hyung. Why are you acting like that's so hard to believe?"

“C’mere for a minute,” Jimin says, tugging Jungkook by his sleeve. Jungkook stills obediently, allowing Jimin to slide close and touch the back of his hand to Jungkook’s forehead.

“What are we doing?” Jungkook says, his voice hushed like he doesn’t want to interrupt. He stays perfectly still as Jimin inspects him, staring at Jimin with big trusting eyes and it’s so cute that Jimin wants to pull him close and bury his face into Jungkook’s jacket.

“You feel warm,” Jimin says, tugging Jungkook’s hoodie over his hair and pulling the hoodie strings tight. “Are you sure you’re not sick?”

“I'm sure,” Jungkook says, scrunching his nose, “why?”

"I don't know! It’s just so unlike you to want to leave the house. Voluntarily.”

“I like spending time with you," Jungkook says simply, "and you're already dressed up too, so.”

“Really?” Jimin brightens up immediately at the prospect of going out, “really? You’ll come? Should I make a reservation somewhere?”

“Nah,” Jungkook says, and he leans away from Jimin, scrolling through his phone. “I’ve already got somewhere in mind. Just give me twenty minutes to shower and get dressed.”

He looks Jimin over and smiles, a mischievous quirk of the mouth that almost takes Jimin’s breath away. “And hyung? Wear something you can dance in.”

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