5

September comes around, marking the start of the second leg of their tour.

In the blink of an eye, Jimin’s packed up everything he owns into a little suitcase and off they go, flying in and out of new cities so often that the idea of dating and Kibum becomes a long faded memory.

Jimin loves being on tour.

There’s nothing like the rush he gets from being on stage, from performing for their fans. It always surprises him each year, as the concert venues grow bigger, lit from top to bottom with the dreamy glow of Army Bombs.

The best thing about being on tour, of course, is getting to spend time with Jungkook.

Jimin loves falling asleep on Jungkook’a big broad shoulders as they get shuttled from place to place, loves goofing off backstage with him as they run through rehearsals, loves that they get to end every single concert together, shoulders brushing as they watch fireworks rain down all around them.

Between their schedules, Jungkook orders his dinner to Jimin’s room and they sit on the bed watching movies and laughing until its way too late, and the next day sees Sejin hyung banging anxiously at their doors, dragging them off to hair and makeup.

It’s here, when they’re standing onstage, Jungkook’s skin lit up by the warm purple glow of Army bombs, Jimin’s hand secure in his, that Jimin thinks he doesn’t need anything else.

“Taehyung’s going live.”

Jungkook glances up from the computer, from where he’s starting a new GCF project. “On V-App?”

“Yeah,” Jimin says, logging into his private account and sending Taehyung a shower of hearts. “He wants me to come over.”

Jungkook frowns. “It’s one thirty, hyung. You should probably get to bed.”

“Aw c’mon Kookie,” Jimin wheedles, “I’m not sleepy. And since when do we ever sleep this early anyway? We should crash his room. Don’t you wanna see what Taehyungie’s up to?”

“I don’t have to,” Jungkook says, wryly, “it’ll be all over the Internet tomorrow.”

Jimin sprawls out on Jungkook’s bed, giggling as he watches Taehyung putter absentmindedly around his hotel room, his cheeks bulging with food.

“But it looks fun,” Jimin says and sends Taehyung another shower of smileys. “I wanna go.”

Jungkook peeks at Jimin’s screen over his shoulder, then easily tugs it out of Jimin’s grasp.

“Ya,” Jimin frowns, making a halfhearted attempt to get it back, “I was watching that.”

Jungkook hums, typing something into the phone before he tosses it back at Jimin. It sails through the air and thumps softly against his thigh.

“It’s late,” Jungkook says, “go take a shower, we should go to bed.”

“But—“

Jimin glances down at his phone when it vibrates. Taehyung’s sent back a sad smiley, and then a photo of an eggplant and water droplets. Jimin frowns down at the response until he scrolls up to see the message Jungkook had sent him a minute earlier.

Jimin’s busy. -JK

Not that kind of busy, dork, Jimin sends back, though his cheeks are flushing pink.

He steals a glance at Jungkook who’s still engrossed in his laptop, only looking down at his phone when it vibrates again.

Sure. Taehyung has sent back, with a smirky face and two rows of googly eyeballs.

Jimin rolls his eyes, but he can’t help the way his cheeks heat at the ridiculous insinuation.

They are busy — Jungkook with rushing his latest GCF edit, and Jimin just… lying on Jungkook’s bed watching him… not in a creepy way!

Jungkook leans back in his chair, stretching his arms overhead as he yawns and Jimin has to force himself to look away as Jungkook’s shirt rides up, revealing a line of tanned skin.

Pull yourself together Park Jimin, Jimin thinks, squeezing his eyes shut, it’s just Jungkook. The kid you practically raised the past five years on your back! He’s just like…

Your little brother, Jimin means to say, except there’s nothing ‘just’ about Jungkook at all. Jungkook is lovely, wonderful, extraordinary.

Jimin’s throat goes dry when he remembers the way Jungkook had looked at the ice rink, his eyes curving mischievously over his black face mask, the way their hands had brushed… the way…

“Hyung?”

Jimin freezes when he feels the bed dip behind him, when he smells the familiar scent of Jungkook’s cologne enveloping him like a warm blanket.

But Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice Jimin’s hesitance. He curls up against Jimin, burrowing his face in the back of Jimin’s t-shirt and laying there like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

And it is, because they’ve spent countless hours like this, huddled in Jimin’s bed, sharing a blanket, giggling under the covers as they watch reruns of Prince of Tennis while everyone else is asleep.

Jimin swallows, acutely aware of the way Jungkook’s breath is tickling his neck, how his hand drapes casually over Jimin’s hip, like it’s always belonged there, how the nearness of him is making Jimin’s heart beat frantically out of his chest.

Jimin sits up quickly, feigning a yawn. “I should probably go to bed.”

“Hey,” Jungkook says, and tugging Jimin back by his hoodie, “where are you going?”

“Jungkook-ah,” Jimin whines, “I’m tired, and sweaty and I need a shower.”

He twists around shooting his best puppy dog face at Jungkook, but Jungkook is unmoved.

“There’s a shower right there,” Jungkook says, nodding over to his own bathroom. When Jimin doesn’t budge, he sighs and gets up, steering Jimin over by his shoulders.

“But,” Jimin protests, when they come to a standstill in front of Jungkook’s bathroom, “I don’t have any of my stuff.”

Jungkook stops long enough to flip a couple of switches on before he steers Jimin inside. The bathroom floods with light and now he’s standing here Jimin can see the generously appointed bathroom counter.

Jungkook’s own toiletries are already laid out neatly, but it’s not just that, because laying next to Jungkook’s razor is Jimin’s favorite moisturizer, and the lavender soap he likes using, and that’s Jimin’s toothbrush sitting in a glass cup right next to Jungkook’s, like it always belonged there.

“Jungkook—“

“No excuses,” Jungkook says, wrinkling his nose adorably, “you don’t know how many clothes I had to unpack to get to these. You’re so messy hyung.”

“You want me to stay over?” Jimin asks finally, in a small voice.

Jungkook stares at him like it’s a foregone conclusion.

“Of course,” Jungkook says and there’s a teasing note in his voice, but there’s no mistaking the way his eyes soften when he looks at Jimin, “you’ve always hated sleeping alone.”

So the weeks pass and regardless which city they end up in for the day, Jimin and Jungkook keep riding together, keep sharing their rehearsals, keep coming home together.

It gets to the point that Sejin stops booking a room for Jimin altogether, and if Jungkook’s suite ends up being a little bigger than everyone else’s, well no one says anything.

They’re in Taipei, on the last stop of their Wings tour before their one week vacation. It’s been a whirlwind couple of months and Jimin’s enjoyed every moment of it, but he’s also excited at the prospect of going home, and he can tell Jungkook’s starting to get homesick too.

“What’re you doing for your birthday?” Jungkook asks.

They’re sprawled out on the sofa post-concert. As usual, Jimin’s migrated to Jungkook's side of the couch, pillowing his head in Jungkook’s thigh. They’re supposed to be watching a movie, but Jimin’s not paying attention anymore, what with the way Jungkook keeps raking his hands absentmindedly through Jimin’s hair.

It’s nice.

“Hmm?”

“We have a couple days off at the end of the month,” Jungkook is saying, “are you going home?”

Jimin shrugs, toying with the ragged edge of Jungkook’s pajamas. “I don’t know, I haven’t thought about it.”

Jungkook sits up, raising his eyebrow. “You have four days off and you don’t have any plans?”

Jimin’s shoulders slump.

“I um I ended things with Kibum,” he mumbles, cheeks flushing pink.

Jimin doesn’t want to look up to see the pity in Jungkook’s eyes, that Jimin’s failed to keep another one of his relationships going. That’s how it always ends up in the end, but Jimin always thinks the next one will end up different.

Still, it didn’t seem right to string Kibum on, not when Jimin’s spending so much of his time thinking about someone else.

Jimin forces a smile.

“It’ll be good for me,” he says, injecting as much cheer as he can into his voice, “I can get some rest at least, and catch up on some anime before the tour begins. And you know how Namjoon hyung’s always going on about how I have to love myself first or I’ll never find anyone, so…”

He trails off, swallowing past the painful lump in his throat.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything so Jimin hurriedly turns his head back to the movie where Seungho is lifting his lady love up, spinning her around in his arms as she beams down at him, her eyes full of love.

“It’s okay to be on your own, hyung,” Jungkook says softly.

Jimin sniffles.

He knows, technically he knows. But he’s so lonely sometimes, aching as he lies in bed and stares at the ceiling, wondering if he’ll ever meet the person who can look at him and see him for who he is; can see all the imperfect, broken parts of Park Jimin and love him anyway.

“Don’t you think it’s funny?” Jimin mumbles, “that we’re so popular, and we’re on Billboard Magazine and selling out all these stadiums but once people know us, actually get to know the real us they never…”

He trails off because saying it aloud would hurt too much. Even thinking it has Jimin blinking back tears.

“You’ll find the ones who’ll stay,” Jungkook says, voice full of quiet confidence, “it just takes time.”

“I will?” Jimin asks, hating the uncertainty in his voice.

“Hyung,” Jungkook says, his big hands gentle as they brush away the tears on Jimin’s cheek, “if there’s anyone in the world that could make someone want to stay, it’s you.”

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