Archive of Our Own ^beta

Taehyung is having an excellent day. The sun’s in the sky, he saw a cool bird outside his window when he woke up that morning, and his coffee maker is newly fixed thanks to the very pretty man who is currently making him breakfast. It’s only ten in the morning and technically he only woke up an hour ago, but Taehyung has a good feeling about the day, as a whole.

“How do you like your eggs cooked?” The very pretty man asks him. His name is Seokjin but Taehyung enjoys privately referring to him by his full title. Seokjin, the Very Pretty Man.

“With the yolks runny, or else it’s pointless,” Taehyung answers decisively, sipping his coffee and staring unabashedly at the line of Seokjin’s back in front of the stove.

Seokjin turns to smile then, and Taehyung swears his eyes are always sparkling like some kind of animated prince. “Good answer.”

Taehyung smiles back, wide and probably a little dopey, as Seokjin walks away from the burner to stand in front of Taehyung, and leans down to kiss him. The whole thing with Seokjin is new, new enough that Taehyung mostly just smiles through the kiss and Seokjin’s little giggle afterwards makes him feel tingly. Taehyung forgot how fun it is to like someone.

Seokjin returns to his eggs and Taehyung returns to staring, and he feels like he could have kept going for possibly forever if the front door opening hadn’t startled him.

“Jiminnie!” Taehyung calls happily, giving a little wave from his place at the tiny kitchen table.

Jimin takes out one earbud, breathing hard from the stairs and, judging from his little spandex shorts and sweat-damp shirt, his morning run. “Morning,” he says back through his labored breath. “You’re up early.”

“Well, you know,” Taehyung says, gesturing vaguely with his hands. Then Seokjin turns around and Jimin seems to notice him for the first time, and Taehyung thinks maybe Jimin’s smile falters a little.

“Oh. Hi. Sorry, I’m a mess,” Jimin aims at Seokjin, his grin turning apologetic. It’s amazing how Jimin can smile a hundred different ways, Taehyung thinks. He personally only owns about three faces, and none of them are very nuanced. Jimin claims this is because he is a more emotionally complex human being than Taehyung, which may be true, honestly.

“Oh, no, you’re fine,” Seokjin replies to Jimin kindly, waving him off with a hand. “Do you want eggs? I’m making eggs.”

Jimin laughs, but it’s insincere, Taehyung can tell. They haven’t spent the last five years living out of each other’s pockets for Taehyung to not be able to detect Jimin’s fake laugh. “That’s okay, thanks. Enjoy your breakfast.” At that, he walks off toward his bedroom, running a hand through his sweaty hair.

Taehyung frowns. “He’s being weird.”

“He seems very nice to me,” Seokjin replies with a little smile, bringing over two plates of sunny-side up eggs and toast (Taehyung didn’t even know they had bread.) “Jimin, right?”

“Yeah. Jimin,” Taehyung says through his first bite of breakfast.

“I think you’ve told me before but I forgot,” Seokjin starts, grinning sheepishly. “What does he do?”

“He’s a dancer,” Taehyung puts emphasis on the word and wiggles his fingers, because it’s fun for him. “Mostly he does backup parts for like shows and stuff, musicals, that kind of thing. He’s auditioning for a ballet company next month, though.”

“Wow,” Seokjin mutters, looking impressed. Taehyung nods proudly. He enjoys bragging about Jimin’s interesting life and accomplishments, like he’s pretending he has literally anything at all to do with them.

“Tae,” Jimin calls from a crack in his bedroom door. “Give me my sweatshirt back.”

Taehyung pauses for a second, considering. “Which one?”

Jimin opens the door fully to glare at him, now dressed only in his little spandex shorts, looking sweaty. “How many do you have?”

“Definitely less than five,” Taehyung responds. Jimin groans. “I’ll find them after breakfast!”

Jimin sighs, glancing between Taehyung and Seokjin. “No, no, it’s fine. Spend your time with...it’s fine. Give them to me later, though.”

Taehyung salutes, turning back to his eggs.

“And wash them first!”

“How dirty do you think I am?” Taehyung asks back, offended, but Jimin’s door is already shut again. “So insulting.”

Seokjin looks on at the scene, amused, but with a question on his face that he never voices.

Taehyung lets out a loud exhale when he gets home from work on Monday. It’s been a day. His stupid med student sister is always making fun of him when he complains about his long days as a kindergarten teacher, but it’s been a day. Four kids had meltdowns, there was an incident with some glitter, a boy tried to run away during recess...it’s been a day.

He slumps across the room and onto the couch, where Jimin is sprawled lazily. The nice thing about Jimin’s weird work schedule is the times when he’s home after Taehyung leaves school, and today’s one of them.

“Hey,” Jimin says easily, a little laugh bubbling into his words, as Taehyung groans and stretches out to lay mostly on top of Jimin. One of his hands goes to card through Taehyung’s hair like it’s automatic, and Taehyung lets out a pleased little sigh. “Long day?”

Taehyung just nods, rolling over so that his face is buried in Jimin’s stomach. He hadn’t really given Jimin a once-over before promptly using him as furniture, but he notices now that he’s in one of his billowy wide-necked shirts that he wears to practice, coupled with a pair of plain black leggings.

“Cute outfit,” Taehyung mutters, muffled against fabric. Jimin gives another little laugh.

“I was too tired from practice to change.” He wiggles his toes against Taehyung’s shin.

Taehyung hums. “That explains why you’re smelly.”

“I’m not smelly,” Jimin retorts. Taehyung snickers.

“I forgot, you’re not a human boy, just a very athletic little tulip,” he mutters, patting Jimin’s side while he talks.

Jimin snorts, but doesn’t disagree. Taehyung grins into Jimin’s shirt.

“What are you up to tonight? I was thinking about ordering dinner and watching, like, several movies all in a row in this exact spot,” Jimin proposes, his hand coming back to run through Taehyung’s hair.

“Oh,” Taehyung mutters, before picking himself up on his elbows to look up at Jimin. “Sorry, um. I have a date.”

Jimin pauses, his face falling from the smile it was in. “Oh. Yeah. No worries.” He averts his eyes though, a sure sign that there are, in fact, worries.

“Chimchim,” Taehyung says quietly, looking up at him. “What’s up?”

Jimin just rolls his eyes. “Nothing’s up, Tae.”

Taehyung pinches his stomach a little with a whine. “It is. You’ve got your little grumpy face on now, like a pout but sadder.”

Jimin rolls his eyes again, like Taehyung is physically sucking the life force out of his body, before crossing his arms in front of him. He’s looking down at the ground sadly when he says, “I just miss you a little.”

“Why, because of Seokjin-hyung? We’ve only been dating for a couple months, Jiminnie,” Taehyung reminds him, but he’s already crawling upwards to bury his face in Jimin’s neck, being careful not to knee him anywhere unfortunate. Jimin just sighs.

“I just feel like I never see you anymore,” he mumbles, one of his hands coming to rest on Taehyung’s back. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Taehyung says softly, nosing at Jimin’s exposed collarbone. “You’re allowed to miss me. I’m a delight, really.” Jimin tries to cover it up, but that made him laugh. Taehyung feels triumphant.

“You should do stuff with me and Jin-hyung,” Taehyung suggests.

Jimin shakes his head. “No, that’s...that’s not fair to him. He doesn’t need me hanging around messing up plans with his boyfriend.”

“If he wants to stay my boyfriend, he should learn that all plans become better with you in them,” Taehyung tells him, sort of like it’s a joke but not really joking all that much. “This is stupid. This is why we do everything together, so our feelings don’t get hurt when one of us watches a movie without the other one.”

“Your boyfriend shouldn’t have to share you, Taehyung,” Jimin says with a snort. “That’s not how that works. I just need to get over myself.”

“Why not, though? Sharing me isn’t bad. Sharing is a good thing, really.” Taehyung sits up so he can look at Jimin properly now, even though currently Jimin’s just giving him an incredulous kind of glare.

“Tae.” It’s the voice Jimin uses when Taehyung eats like six things of fruit snacks all in one go, or suggests they take a road trip at eleven PM on a Tuesday because he’s on summer vacation.

“It’s weird doing stuff without you,” Taehyung says, a little more quietly.

Jimin blinks. “Do you mean like, going to the movies, or…” He trails off, seemingly unsure of how to complete that thought.

“I don’t know!” Taehyung huffs back at him. “I miss you too, though. That’s all I’m saying.”

In truth, it’s been a really long time since they’ve had to deal with this. Neither of them has dated anyone in...well, a really long time. Jimin saw some girl very briefly about a year ago and Taehyung remembers how he felt about it, all weird and left out. He’s having fun with Seokjin, but sometimes when they go to a restaurant he knows Jimin likes, there’s a familiar twinge of...something. He’s not sure what, but something.

Jimin’s still just looking at him, and Taehyung isn’t sure what that look’s about.

“I have a couple hours free right now, do you want to watch a movie?” Taehyung asks, wanting to get rid of Jimin’s weird face. It works, after a second, and Jimin relaxes back into the couch, pulling Taehyung by the neck to lay on top of him again before grabbing the remote to the TV and scrolling through movie options absentmindedly. That’s better.

There’s nothing like a weird unsettled heart-to-heart with your best friend to put things in perspective for you. Before six days ago, Taehyung hadn’t really noticed how much he talked about Jimin when he was with Seokjin, or the way Seokjin raised his eyebrows every single time. And he definitely hadn’t noticed before if Jimin looked so weird and blushy the morning after every time Seokjin spent the night before — had he always done that, or was that new?

He’s sitting at a cafe with Seokjin, smiling at each other and holding hands on the table, when their drinks are set down and Taehyung makes a small impressed noise at the latte art.

“This is cute, I’m going to take a picture for Jiminnie,” Taehyung says, pulling away from Seokjin’s hand to grab his phone.

Seokjin’s eyebrows furrow for a second, but he doesn’t say anything, just grabs his drink and holds it in his hands. He has nice hands, Taehyung thinks, but he might actually have nice everything.

“What?” Taehyung asks him curiously, locking his phone screen after he takes the picture.

Seokjin’s eyebrows furrow again, like he’s not sure what to say. “You and...you and Jimin.”

“Me and Jimin,” Taehyung repeats. He starts peeling the little wrapper off of his blueberry muffin carefully.

“Sorry, this feels…” Seokjin trails off with a laugh that sounds almost nervous. “I feel stupid. Just. Did you two used to date or something?”

“Oh,” Taehyung says, offering a little laugh. “That. No, we never...no.”

“That?” Seokjin asks in confusion, repeating Taehyung’s tone back to him.

“People ask us a lot,” Taehyung shrugs.

Seokjin pauses. “Okay. Good to know I’m not alone in that interpretation.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what it is, people have been asking us since college,” Taehyung says without thinking too much about it, waving his hand in a People, am I right? kind of gesture.

Seokjin laughs a little, but he still has a questioning look on his face. “You two are...close.”

Taehyung takes a bite of his muffin and thinks. “Well, yeah. He’s my best friend. I can’t remember the last time I went like two days without talking to him.”

“Right.” Seokjin nods. He’s smiling now, most of his worry erased from his face. He reaches over and takes a piece of Taehyung’s muffin, ignoring his little sad whine in response.

They’re both quiet for a moment, chewing and taking sips of their drinks. Taehyung reaches out to hold Seokjin’s hand again and Seokjin grins. “I feel kind of bad about Jimin, actually.”

“What do you feel bad about?” Seokjin asks, interested. He’s playing with Taehyung’s fingers a little, which strikes him as cute.

“It’s just that I haven’t had a lot of time to spend with him lately. We usually do everything together, but I’ve been...busy,” Taehyung says sheepishly.

“Ah,” Seokjin says with a nod. “I know what you mean. I remember feeling left out when Namjoon and Hoseokie started dating and Namjoon took my spot on the couch.”

Taehyung’s met Hoseok a handful times, Seokjin’s sometimes-roommate who splits his time between his apartment with Seokjin and Namjoon’s place; Seokjin told Taehyung he likes to feel like he still has his “own space” even though eighty percent of his stuff lives at Namjoon’s and he just gets annoyed at everything being gone when he’s home. He met Hoseok before Seokjin, now that he thinks of it, a warm presence who’s hovered somewhere around Namjoon for the past year or so.

“Yeah,” Taehyung nods back to Seokjin. “It’s weird. Neither of us have dated in a while, we got so used to it being just us.”

There’s another question on Seokjin’s face that he doesn’t ask, instead lacing his fingers with Taehyung’s properly. “We should do things with him, then. Since he’s your best friend.”

“Really?” Taehyung asks, pleased. They’ve only been dating for two and a half months, nothing particularly serious yet, but Seokjin is so good sometimes that it makes Taehyung feel a little jittery.

“Yeah. I like you, after all.” Seokjin is giving him a crooked little grin.

“Ooh, you like me? So embarrassing, hyung,” Taehyung teases, wiggling his shoulders in Seokjin’s direction.

Seokjin snorts, rolling his eyes. “Maybe not, if you keep acting like a brat.”

Taehyung just snickers before taking another sip of his latte.

It’s movie night, and Taehyung is absurdly comfortable. Seokjin’s arm is around his shoulders, Taehyung’s head leaning against Seokjin’s chest, and his legs are in Jimin’s lap. As far as he’s concerned, all is right with the world. They’re watching an action movie, one Seokjin let slip that he’d never seen, and after Taehyung’s scandalized gasp, Jimin just sighed and went to find the DVD.

The last couple weeks have had a lot of Jimin. Well, a lot of Jimin-plus-Seokjin. It’s been nice, having more time with Jimin and watching Seokjin get along with him. Seokjin started as just a handsome guy Namjoon worked with, around enough times that Taehyung finally introduced himself, but it’s getting easier and easier to see him as part of Taehyung’s life. It’s weird.

Now isn’t the time to think about that, though. Now is the time to concentrate on the male lead of this movie introspecting about the female side character he loves, apparently, before blowing up a building. Taehyung nudges Jimin with his foot right before it explodes and they lock eyes before making explosion sound effects, Jimin giggling afterward. Taehyung turns to look at Seokjin to catch his reaction to the scene, but he’s looking down at his phone instead.

“Hyung!” Taehyung whines. “You’re missing the best part.”

“You’ve said that every five minutes, Taehyung,” Seokjin says with a smirk, but he locks his phone and puts it in his pocket. “Sorry,” he says quieter, leaning down and kissing Taehyung’s cheek. Taehyung feels a little appeased so he turns back around to face the television, glancing at Jimin for a second, and feeling confused at the look on Jimin’s face. It’s a little sullen and a little sad, and Taehyung doesn’t understand it.

The movie keeps going until it’s done, and when pressed for a reaction, Seokjin offers, “I really liked...the lighting.” So maybe no more movie nights for Seokjin, then.

Jimin stayed a little pouty for the whole rest of the movie, and Taehyung’s acutely aware of how stiff he looked. It takes all of his self-control to wait until Seokjin has said his goodbyes, kissed Taehyung softly by the door, to turn to Jimin with furrowed brows.

Jimin was already looking in his direction, apparently, but he turns with a blush when Taehyung looks at him, walking over to their kitchen and stretching up on tip toes to pull a glass out of the cabinet.

Taehyung just stays by the front door, looking at him. “Jiminnie.”

“What?” Jimin calls back, apparently very interested in the tap as water flows from it into his glass.

Taehyung sighs, stepping over into the kitchen and pulling himself up to sit on the counter next to Jimin, who walks over to the kitchen table as soon as Taehyung sits. “Jiminnie!”

“What?” Jimin repeats, eyebrows raised up at Taehyung. He gets like this sometimes, stubborn and hard to move.

Taehyung pulls his legs up to sit cross-legged, facing Jimin from across the kitchen. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Jimin replies with a roll of his eyes. But he still looks a little dejected underneath his annoyance, and he isn’t fooling Taehyung for a second.

“Something’s wrong.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

“Is too,” Taehyung insists, flopping down from his spot on the counter and crossing the room to sling his arms around Jimin’s shoulders, leaning down on his back. “Don’t lie.”

Jimin sighs at that, but just reaches up to hold one of Taehyung’s hands loosely. “It’s just weird being around a couple.”

“But we’re spending more time together lately!” Taehyung offers, tucking his chin against Jimin’s shoulder. It’s an awkward position, all slumped over a seated Jimin, but whatever.

Jimin sighs again. “I know we are, and I’m glad. It’s just weird.”

“Weird how?” Taehyung asks curiously. He removes himself from Jimin’s back and sits down at the chair adjacent to him.

Jimin’s looking down at the table in front of them, drumming his fingers against it quietly. “Weird like I feel very...single.”

Taehyung blinks. Oh. He hadn’t been expecting that. Jimin looks up at him in the silence, embarrassed, opening his mouth to say something else before closing it and shaking his head.

“Are you…” Taehyung tries cautiously, quietly. “Jealous?”

“No,” Jimin replies vehemently, a little too quickly. “I am not.”

Taehyung smirks, small at the corner of his lips. “I think you are. I think you’re jealous.”

Jimin stands up, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I am not jealous!”

Taehyung follows him, trailing after him when Jimin starts walking away. “Poor Jiminnie just wants his own handsome boyfriend,” Taehyung coos sympathetically, amused at the chase that Jimin is giving.

Jimin turns, then, rolling his eyes. “Of course I want a boyfriend as handsome as yours.”

They look at each other, both apparently a little surprised at Jimin’s words, and then Jimin’s going red, his blush visible on every part of his face, ears, and neck. “Not like — I mean —” he stutters, but Taehyung interrupts him.

“Are you jealous...like that?” He asks, curious.

“No, Tae,” Jimin responds emphatically, maybe a little frenzied, like he’s trying to put out a fire. His face is still burning red.

Taehyung considers for a moment. “Do you...have a crush on Jin-hyung?”

Jimin seems unable to respond to that, mouth opening and closing again, looking mortified. Tahyung blinks a few times. “Oh. Wow.”

Jimin crumples a little, face in his hands as he says, “God, I’m sorry. It’s not serious, it wasn’t on purpose, I swear I’ll just try to forget it —”

“I...it’s okay,” Taehyung interrupts, stepping forward and putting a hand on Jimin’s shoulder. Jimin doesn’t take his hands away from his face but he doesn’t tense up, so that’s something.

“It’s not okay, I’m the worst friend. This is like rule number one of being a friend.” Jimin sounds embarrassed and upset and it makes Taehyung frown.

“No, really, it’s...it’s okay. Really,” Taehyung assures him quietly. He’s not sure what it means exactly, but it’s how he feels — not betrayed, not angry, not upset. Just calm, curious.

Jimin pauses, taking his hands away from his red face and looking up at Taehyung, confused. “What do you mean?”

Taehyung doesn’t really know how to explain himself, but he tries anyway. If anyone could get it, it’s Jimin. “I just, um. I’m okay with that?”

“Why are you okay with that?” Jimin asks, incredulous. “He’s your boyfriend, Taehyung.”

“Yeah, I know,” Taehyung says with a small grin. “It’s just. The idea of you liking him doesn’t bother me.”

Jimin still looks baffled, a little angry around the edges, like Taehyung is pulling his leg. “Wouldn’t it bother you if he found out? I don’t want to ruin your relationship, Tae.” His tone is serious, trying to make Taehyung see the error in his reasoning, apparently.

“Well,” Taehyung reasons. “Maybe it wouldn’t ruin it.”

“What?”

“Maybe it would just be different.”

Jimin is giving him a particularly strong look now, the kind Taehyung is used to seeing after pitching his most hare-brained schemes. “What exactly are you trying to suggest here?”

Taehyung pauses, trying to figure it out himself first. The closest he can get to the idea blooming in his brain is to say quietly, “Remember that thing I said about sharing?”

“This isn’t your kindergarten class, Tae. People don’t just share boyfriends.” Jimin says it evenly, trying to talk some sense into Taehyung, but it never works, and it’s not going to start now.

“I’m sure some people do,” Taehyung argues.

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Yeah, like, in porn.” That makes Taehyung raise his eyebrows and Jimin go a little pink in response.

“Well,” Taehyung manages. “That’s...neither here nor there.” Is it? Is it here or there? Taehyung is going to say no, for right now. His brain is putting together some images that he doesn’t need at this particular moment in time.

Jimin groans. “This is so weird, Tae. Why are you so weird?”

“But it doesn’t have to be weird, does it?” Taehyung asks calmly.

“Yes, it has to be weird!” Jimin whisper-shouts back at him.

Taehyung considers with a hum. He leans back against the wall he’s been standing near for this conversation. “Everyone always says the stuff we do is weird, but. I like our weird stuff.”

“Including both of us...dating the same boy? Hypothetically?” Jimin asks, eyebrows raised alarmingly high. There’s still pink in his cheeks, embarrassed from the conversation, and he looks cute. Jimin is so cute.

“Well, I don’t know,” Taehyung answers him with a shrug. “It sounds kind of nice. I like dating people.”

Then it’s Jimin’s turn to pause, furrowing his eyebrows at Taehyung. “Are we also...dating each other in this scenario?”

“I…” Taehyung starts, clearing his throat. “I mean, I just assumed. Or, I mean, just. If we’re both there around him all the time, wouldn’t it kind of be like dating each other, too?”

Jimin pauses again before groaning. “Tae, this is so weird.”

Taehyung nods, putting his hands up in front of him in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. Just...something to think about, I guess.”

Jimin sighs and shakes his head, his arms crossed on his chest before he walks in the other direction. “I’m going to bed, Taehyung. Goodnight.”

The kitchen is quiet, just the sound of the refrigerator running, and Taehyung’s left alone with white noise to consider the proposition he just kind of accidentally laid out. He feels okay about it, he decides.

(It’s only later, their apartment quiet and dark, when Taehyung remembers Jimin’s comment about sex, and well. That one’s harder to deal with.)

It’s a weird few days in the Taehyung and Jimin residence. Jimin seems a little avoidant, out of the house a lot, but it might just be his schedule. Taehyung’s trying not to overthink it, even when Jimin makes pancakes without him one morning, which he admits hurts.

There’s also the slightly disconcerting and much more lewd fact that four out of the last five times he masturbated, he did it thinking about Jin fucking Jimin. (Jimin’s just so flexible — why hasn’t Taehyung thought about this before?) It’s fine, though. He’s definitely masturbated to weirder things.

It’s a Sunday, and Taehyung is sitting on the couch eating toast lazily, scattering crumbs. Jimin would scold him, if Jimin was being normal. He wonders if he can summon him like this, the sound of breadcrumbs hitting fabric. He chews another bite.

Jimin’s bedroom door opens, and Taehyung looks gratefully at the toast. “Good morning, Jiminnie,” Taehyung calls sweetly, flopping upside down over the arm of the couch to smile at him.

Jimin looks him up and down (or down and up, from this angle) and frowns. “Taehyung, you’re going to get crumbs everywhere.”

“Too late, I already did. They’re everywhere,” Taehyung supplies gleefully, rubbing his butt into the couch to further integrate the breadcrumbs with the fabric.

“So annoying,” Jimin mutters, but he turns quick enough that Taehyung knows he’s covering a smile.

“I’m having lunch with Jungkookie later, are you coming?” Taehyung asks, flipping himself right side-up to sit normally on the couch, turning his attention back to the cartoon that’s playing on the television, like an adult.

A pause from Jimin, then, “I don’t think so.”

“Boo, boring Minnie. Why not?” Taehyung asks. He’s not terribly surprised, but still.

“I’ve had a long week,” Jimin offers, which is a little lame, but Taehyung will accept it. He walks into the living room, stretching his arms up above his head and closing his eyes; he makes a satisfied little groaning noise and there’s a strip of skin at his tummy that shows when his shirt rides up. Cute. Jiminnie is cute. This is something Taehyung knows for a very certain fact, and can prove extensively, citing all the cute shit Jimin has done during the past five years they have cohabitated.

When Jimin’s done stretching, he sits down on the couch, though Taehyung feels very aware of the three feet of space currently between them that isn’t usually between them. Usually, Jimin flops loosely into his lap and lets Taehyung play with his hair, smooth his fingertips across Jimin’s scalp and massage his temples sometimes if he looks stressed.

Jimin must be able to feel him staring, because when Taehyung glances up to his eyes, Jimin’s looking at him. Taehyung turns away, chewing another bite of his toast.

He’s resolved to not bring it up, the weirdness, the thing. The accidently-maybe-proposing-a-threesome thing. Is it called a threesome when you date them, though? Taehyung doesn’t know, but he’s not bringing it up. From his personal experience, bringing stuff up to Jimin just makes him all flustered and annoyed and pouty; it’s better to let him get there on his own time.

In the meantime, though, Taehyung is stuck with lasting mental pictures of how much bigger Seokjin is than Jimin, and how that would play out. Jimin always dates tall guys, now that Taehyung thinks of it — it’s been a while, but Jimin’s dating history is lanky.

You’re the same height as Seokjin, his brain supplies unhelpfully. Maybe a little bit shorter, and not quite as filled out, which makes it easy for Seokjin to playfully push him back against a wall, a doorframe, his bed. Taehyung thinks about that and about how much Jimin works out, wonders which of them could get the upper hand over each other. They could certainly both get the upper hand over Taehyung, and that’s...something, isn’t it.

“Tae,” Jimin interrupts his thought process, sounding mildly concerned. “Why are you staring at your toast?”

Taehyung shakes himself out of his own head, looking up a little wide-eyed at Jimin, and swallows. “Uh.”

Jimin fixes him with a probing kind of look, and Taehyung bites his lip. “No reason.”

“You’re weird,” Jimin tells him easily.

“That’s why you like me,” Taehyung replies with a little smile, finally taking another bite of his toast.

“Mm,” Jimin hums, but he doesn’t disagree. When Taehyung finishes his toast, Jimin stretches his socked feet into Taehyung’s lap, and all Taehyung can do is grin at the mismatched socks before pressing down on the tops of Jimin’s feet lightly, one of his weird ballet stretches that Taehyung is more than familiar with.

Jimin hums again, content, and Taehyung keeps grinning.

Jungkook stares at Taehyung across the table, cheeks stuffed with food like a hamster, only half-listening to Taehyung’s story about a run-in with one of his students’ mothers at the grocery store.

Taehyung returns the favor, sitting through another story about how Jungkook had to stay late at the office all week, and only calls him a boring salary-worker once (his legal allowance per conversation.)

“So a thing happened,” Taehyung offers during a lull, mouth half-full of chicken. Jungkook raises an eyebrow, gesturing vaguely for him to go on. Taehyung pauses, uncertain of how to phrase it, so he waits until he swallows his chicken. “You know Seokjin, right?”

“We’ve met, yeah,” Jungkook says, eyebrows raised with a little smile. “You drag him around everywhere.”

“Shut up,” Taehyung scoffs, rolling his eyes. “That’s not the point. Also, that’s not true. We’ve only been dating for a couple months, and we’re two separate —”

“Stop, jesus,” Jungkook laughs. “Just keep telling your story.”

“Anyway. So. Jiminnie, uh...has a crush on him?” Taehyung says it like a question with an exaggerated shrug, and Jungkook stops chewing.

“O...kay,” Jungkook says with a breath, looking a little startled. “Wow. That’s…”

“No, it’s...okay, hear me out,” Taehyung starts. Jungkook narrows his eyes automatically, probably a learned response from hearing Taehyung say those exact words too many times before.

Taehyung sighs. “It’s weird, Jungkookie,” he mumbles, stirring his soda with his straw.

Jungkook looks at him for a minute before asking in a hushed voice, “Did you...did you three…?”

Taehyung barks out a surprised laugh and Jungkook blushes, looking down at his food. He looks so young still, so shy and embarrassed sometimes, it’s cute.

“No, we didn’t. It isn’t like that,” Taehyung says with a shake of his head.

Jungkook looks at him again, the pink fading from his cheeks. He tilts his head. “Isn’t it, though?”

How does this kid always know when Taehyung’s lying? It gets annoying after a while. Taehyung rolls his eyes, avoiding Jungkook’s gaze. “Okay, it’s a little like that. But nothing’s been...acted upon.”

“But you want to.”

Taehyung shifts in his seat. “Well.”

“Where’s Jimin on all of this?” Jungkook asks, resting his chin in his hand and leaning on the table. He pretends to be annoyed or bored with Taehyung’s antics sometimes, but he’s nosy at heart (and on his face, ha — he makes a note to remember that joke for Seokjin-hyung) and looks interested, if a little concerned.

“Jimin-hyung,” Taehyung corrects him pointedly, “is...weird.”

“Shocking,” Jungkook replies drily.

“You’re so annoying,” Taehyung whines at him.

“No, I mean, who wouldn’t be immediately on board if their roommate-slash-best-friend offered up a threesome with his boyfriend, right?” Jungkook asks, voice still dry with sarcasm.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Yoongi-hyung,” Taehyung tells him with narrowed eyes. “And don’t call it a threesome.”

“Well what is it, then?” Jungkook asks.

“Well, that’s part of it I guess, but like also, the...other stuff?” Taehyung ventures.

“What other stuff?” Jungkook asks, shaking his head in confusion.

“Like. The boyfriend stuff, I guess?” He feels a little embarrassed now, his own cheeks going pink.

Jungkook is quiet, and Taehyung looks back up at him to find his eyebrows furrowed. “The boyfriend stuff. With you and Jimin.”

“And Seokjin,” Taehyung amends quietly. “That part’s important.”

“But...you and Jimin?” Jungkook asks again.

“Well,” Taehyung says, moving his chopsticks around on the empty plate in front of him. “Yeah. I guess.”

Quiet again. Taehyung looks away for a moment but when the silence stretches on he pouts, furrowing his eyebrows. “What? What is it?”

Jungkook has a funny look on his face, part concern part surprise, and he seems to be at a bit of a loss. “Well, it’s just...we all kind of never thought this would happen?”

That leaves Taehyung at a loss. “Who’s we?”

“You know. Everybody. Me, Yoongi, Namjoon, your sister —”

“My sister? What does she have to do with anything?” Taehyung asks with a scoff.

Jungkook just looks at him. “Well, she’s spent a considerable amount of time in the same room as you and Jimin.”

Taehyung furrows his eyebrows again, confused, until Jungkook sighs, shaking his head. “Forget it. Listen, let’s recap. You like Seokjin.”

“Yes,” Taehyung agrees with a nod.

“And Jimin likes Seokjin.”

“Also yes.”

“Does Seokjin like Jimin?” Jungkook asks.

That one’s trickier. Taehyung thinks. “Sometimes he stares at him when he walks around in his little running shorts.”

“So does everyone with eyes, that doesn’t count,” Jungkook waves him off.

Taehyung will give him that. “I don’t know, then. I mean, why wouldn’t he? Jiminnie’s the best.”

Another look from Jungkook. “Right. So, last piece of the puzzle here. Do you like Jimin?”

And again, Taehyung thinks. Thinks about Jimin in his little running shorts, in his loose t-shirts he wears to dance practice, in Taehyung’s borrowed sweatshirts. Thinks about how small his hands are in Taehyung’s, an old observation that he never gets tired of. Thinks about Jimin’s cute laugh. “I don’t know. I’ve never really given it that much thought before this.”

“God, really?” Jungkook asks him, seeming frustrated. “Tae, you practically live inside his ass. Every time you look at him your whole face melts. It’s disgusting. I’ve been watching it for years.”

“I do not live inside his ass,” Taehyung defends himself, voice slightly too loud for the restaurant. He lowers himself down to a hushed whisper after an older couple looks at them, repeating firmly, “I do not live inside his ass. And my face does not melt.”

“Every time Jimin breathes you cheer like he just got an Olympic medal,” Jungkook counters.

“Well excuse me for being supportive, Jungkookie,” Taehyung offers, feeling heated. Jungkook looks unimpressed. Admittedly, it’s not his best work.

“All I’m saying is...give it some thought. If you’ve really never thought about it, then you should really...you should really think about it.”

Taehyung sighs, takes a sip of his soda that’s mostly just melted ice now. “Kookie, do you think this is a bad idea?”

Jungkook seems to consider. “If it were anyone else, I might say yeah.”

“But?” Taehyung asks.

“But it’s you and Jimin, and you guys make everything that seems like a bad idea work, so. No.” Jungkook says with a shrug.

That warms a little part of Taehyung’s heart somewhere, in a weird way. It’s a nice thing to think about them.

“Thanks,” Taehyung says with a grin.

Jungkook just shrugs and rolls his eyes. “Yeah. Whatever.”

“Kook-ah, you need to be more open with your emotions,” Taehyung chides him, reaching across the table to pinch at Jungkook’s cheek.

“Leave me alone,” Jungkook whines, squirming away from Taehyung’s reach.

“Are you this rude to Yoongi-hyung?” Taehyung asks in a teasing voice, wiggling his eyebrows.

Jungkook goes pink, still scooting just out of Taehyung’s grasp. “Stop asking me about Yoongi-hyung.”

“So you’ll call him hyung!” Taehyung cries, offended, and the older couple looks over at them again. Taehyung shrugs and gives them a wide grin before standing up to throw himself on Jungkook’s side of the booth and hug him a little.

“I hate you so much,” Jungkook hisses at him, sounding a little labored, and Taehyung’s only response is to lean over and kiss his cheek, laughing easily at how embarrassed he looks.

Taehyung has trouble getting things out of his mind when he’s with Seokjin. They’ve had a few dates over the last week, and during all of them Taehyung has felt...distracted. When Seokjin wraps himself heavily over Taehyung’s back, hands carding through his hair, Taehyung thinks about how Jimin would like dating Seokjin — he’s so tactile, so touchy.

Aren’t you? His brain asks him, which is beside the point, frankly.

They go out to dinner on Friday night, Taehyung armed with new stories about his kindergarteners, Seokjin armed with new stories about Namjoon breaking the coffee maker at their shared office.

“I think he tried to make ramen in it?” Seokjin asks, sounding both confused and impressed

“Yeah, that sounds right,” Taehyung agrees with a nod. The restaurant they’re in is fancier than Taehyung feels he should be allowed in, all hushed and dimly lit. Seokjin’s in a nice button-up shirt that he looks intimidatingly handsome in, and Taehyung’s floral-patterned shirt with the missing button feels goofy in comparison. It’s fine, though. Taehyung doesn’t mind feeling goofy in comparison to Seokjin, especially since it usually doesn’t last long — Seokjin is a pretty goofy person, overall.

The thing about Seokjin, Taehyung thinks, looking over at the way his handsome little half-smile is ruined when he shoves like six bites of noodles in his mouth at once, is that he’s very good. He’s weird and funny and whiny and sarcastic and cute and good, and Taehyung feels all wobbly and fuzzy looking at him sometimes. At some point during their fancy date, Seokjin laughs hard enough that water comes out of his nose and Taehyung is left wheezing as Seokjin tries to cover this fact up in the fancy, hushed, dimly-lit restaurant.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Seokjin murmurs nervously as a bunch of wealthier and more put-together people glare at them, and he all but pulls Taehyung out of the restaurant after they pay their bill. Seokjin’s laugh sounds like when it’s not raining quite hard enough for your windshield wipers to be going as fast as they are, and it’s infectious. Sometimes he laughs with his whole body, falling over loosely, and it reminds Taehyung a little of Jimin.

They hold hands on their walk back to Taehyung’s apartment (“I think Namjoon-ah is over right now, and he and Hoseok are chaotic,” Seokjin explained with an eye-roll) and it’s warm even in the November chill of the night. Also, Seokjin looks really good in a pea coat, which helps.

“Is Jimin home?” Seokjin asks him quietly, breath warm on Taehyung’s ear as Taehyung tries to find his key. Seokjin is draped over Taehyung’s shoulders, chin leaning on him lightly, and Taehyung feels the familiar warm giddiness he’s come to associate with Seokjin in the past couple months.

“Not sure,” Taehyung replies with a hum. “Don’t really care, though.”

“You’re a bad roommate,” Seokjin says, giggling, but one of his hands moves to rest on Taehyung’s hip under his jacket, fingers splayed, warm.

They don’t make it to Taehyung’s bedroom before Seokjin turns him around and kisses him like he means it, suspended in each others’ space in the hallway. Jimin is home, Taehyung saw the blue light of the television coming from under his bedroom door, but whatever, it happens sometimes. Taehyung smiles against Seokjin’s mouth and laughs, a little breathy, before pulling back and grabbing Seokjin by the wrist to drag him into the bedroom.

“You’re cute,” Seokjin tells him with a little smile when Taehyung’s fingers stumble over the button of Seokjin’s shirt.

Taehyung forgets sometimes that Seokjin is a few years older than him until Seokjin looks at him like this, all confidence, a little bit of a joke in his voice. It makes Taehyung feel twenty years old, that good kind of nervousness fizzing just under his skin. Seokjin has the ability to inspire a little awe when he’s like this, striking in the low light with sure hands.

“Thanks,” Taehyung responds breathlessly as Seokjin kisses his neck, feeling a little belated, but he supposes it still counts. There goes Seokjin’s shirt, Taehyung’s fingers finally wising up. Taehyung wonders to himself if Seokjin thinks Jimin is cute. He does, right? It’s probably impossible not to think Jimin is cute. How has Jimin even been single for so long? He’s cute, and he’s objectively hot, you don’t even have to see him in his tightest jeans (which are most of his jeans) to know that he’s objectively hot, and as Taehyung’s dreams keep reminding him, so flexible.

Taehyung isn’t flexible at all, possesses exactly zero of Jimin’s muscles, but Seokjin doesn’t seem to mind as he pulls Taehyung down into bed, both of them somehow stripped down to their boxers. When did that happen?

“What do you want?” Seokjin asks him, voice low in Taehyung’s ear as he leans down, straddled over Taehyung’s body on the bed.

Taehyung, overwhelmed with his options and the way Seokjin’s hand is running down his chest, just manages, “Surprise me.”

Jin laughs, squeaky and weird, and his cool and confident image is broken but Taehyung is unbelievably endeared, surging up to drag him down into a kiss.

In the morning, Taehyung is laying in bed, naked and sated. It’s kind of late, but Taehyung doesn’t have anywhere to be, and Seokjin’s in their shower after sleepily asking Taehyung if he could borrow a towel nearly an hour earlier. Seokjin takes long showers, Taehyung’s learned.

It’s early for a Saturday and Taehyung feels heavy, still half-asleep somehow, and when he hears the soft knock on his door he thinks maybe he imagined it. It’s so quiet, barely there. But then it comes again, three short raps, louder this time.

“Yeah?” He calls, pulling his comforter higher on his body. “What’s up?”

At that, the door opens, and Jimin sticks his head inside. He looks worse for wear, bags under his eyes, and when he takes in Taehyung lying (mostly covered but still definitely naked) on the bed, he looks embarrassed, despite the fact that they’ve seen each other naked definitely more than once, probably more than five times.

“Oh. Sorry.”

Taehyung just shrugs, looking Jimin over. “You look terrible.”

“You flatter me,” Jimin deadpans. “I...couldn’t sleep last night.”

It’s silent for a moment, and Taehyung connects the dots, looking from his own bed to their shared wall. “Oh. Oops. Sorry, Jiminnie.”

Jimin looks like he’s going to say something, but then he closes his mouth, looking conflicted. “I...thought about it.”

“What?” Taehyung asks. It’s too early for vague sentences.

“The thing. With...Seokjin. I thought about it.” Jimin looks mortified to explain, face going red.

“Oh.” Taehyung pauses, taking it in. “Oh. Well. And?”

“And, I’m...open to it,” Jimin manages, looking down at the floor.

“You’re open to it,” Taehyung repeats, just to make sure.

“Yes,” Jimin mutters.

“To dating me and Seokjin.”

Jimin is pink again. “Yes.”

Taehyung smiles easily. “Oh. Cool.”

Jimin sighs, narrowing his eyes over at Taehyung. “Yeah. Cool.”

They look at each other for a minute. Taehyung would get up to hug Jimin, if he was...clothed. It feels appropriate, a hug.

“So what now?” Jimin asks, kicking his foot against the floor.

“I don’t know,” Taehyung says back, blinking. “I’m not exactly an expert.” He hadn’t really thought ahead this far, is the thing.

They think for a moment. “I guess we test the waters,” Jimin determines quietly, looking purposeful.

“What does that mean?” Taehyung asks, head tilted to the side.

Before Jimin can answer, the bathroom door creaks open down the hall, and Taehyung and Jimin both turn their attention to the bedroom door when Seokjin steps in, a towel wrapped around his waist, looking startled to find Jimin.

When Seokjin recovers, he laughs, sounding a little embarrassed. “Sorry, Jimin-ssi. I didn’t realize there was anyone else in here.”

“You don’t have to call me that, hyung,” Jimin tells him sweetly, his smile a little smirky and a lot perfect. “We’re pretty well acquainted by now, aren’t we?” At that, Jimin trails his eyes up and down Seokjin’s still-dripping form, making both Seokjin and Taehyung’s lips part a little in surprise.

Seokjin laughs again, a little nervous. “Right. Sure.” He ducks over to Taehyung’s dresser to find some clothes to borrow (his fancy dinner clothes from last night won’t do, apparently) and Taehyung mouths a quick Holy shit at Jimin, who raises his hands in a shrug and mouths back, like he’s panicked, I don’t know!

Taehyung only has time to give him a thumbs-up before Seokjin turns toward Jimin again, looking between the clothes he’s going to change into and the people in the room.

Jimin must realize, so he clears his throat, steps back toward the door. “Are you staying for…” He checks his watch with a grin. “Lunch, I guess, hyung?”

“Maybe,” Seokjin says, sounding like he’s considering it.

“You should,” Jimin tells him with a sweet little smile, and Seokjin smiles back, even if he still does look a little confused as Jimin steps out of the room with a wave.

Taehyung blinks. Seokjin clears his throat. They both stare at the door that Jimin just exited.

Later in the kitchen, after Seokjin decides to stay for lunch, dressed in Taehyung’s weird, baggy clothes, Taehyung whispers to Jimin, “You’re a weapon.”

“What? I’m going to practice after this,” Jimin says back in explanation of his outfit, and maybe Taehyung will give him the leggings, but he still finds the loose tank top (that dips down to his ribs at the side) a little over the top.

Taehyung has seen this before, Jimin’s mating dance. A few times in college with mutual friends Jimin wanted to hook up with, a few times since then. That doesn’t make it any less shameless and bold, but it means it’s familiar when Taehyung walks away and Jimin stretches up on tiptoes to the top of the cabinets before looking over his shoulder toward Seokjin.

“Hyung? Can you help me grab something?” He asks with doe eyes, and like an automatic response, Seokjin walks over to grab the jar from the top shelf.

Jimin doesn’t back away, instead just letting Seokjin cage him against the countertop. Seokjin looks overwhelmed when he realizes, looking down at Jimin so close with the jar in his hand. “Thanks, hyung,” Jimin says quietly, biting his lip before walking away. Seokjin just nods, swallowing visibly.

Unbelievable. When Jimin pulls his shirt up to open the jar with the cloth, showing the definition on his stomach and flexing his arms in the process, Taehyung has to actually hold himself back from snorting.

“A weapon,” Taehyung whispers again, and Jimin has the gall to smirk back at him before he leaves the room.

Seokjin stares after him, looking a little shaken. “What did he need a jar for?”

Taehyung just sighs. “Jiminnie’s an enigma.”

“I like his leggings,” Seokjin mutters absently.

“Don’t we all,” Taehyung offers, wistful. “Don’t we all.”

“Test the waters,” is evidently Jimin-speak for “flirt aggressively,” and really, Taehyung should have known. Jimin is kind of an all-or-nothing guy, always determined when he gets set on something. A hard worker.

In this particular context, being a hard worker translates to Jimin inserting himself efficiently into all of Seokjin and Taehyung’s plans, enabled by Taehyung setting up a lot of plans where they stay in the apartment.

“We’ve only been dating for three months and we’re homebodies,” Seokjin jokes one night, holding a bag of microwave popcorn. He looks soft tonight, which is an added benefit of quiet nights in, wearing ripped up jeans, a big sweater, and his glasses instead of contacts.

“I don’t mind, do you?” Taehyung asks with a smile, resting a hand on Seokjin’s waist.

Seokjin just shakes his head no in response, leans in to press a light kiss on Taehyung’s lips. “No. It’s a cheaper date,” he says, then laughs, his big exaggerated fake one.

Taehyung rolls his eyes, but he keeps his smile. Jimin walks through to grab a beer, and takes the popcorn from Seokjin’s hands with a smirk. “Can we share?”

Taehyung nearly chokes on a laugh, but Seokjin just smiles. “Yeah. We can share.”

“Careful what you promise him, he’ll eat it all,” Taehyung warns, reaching out his arm to pinch Jimin’s side.

Jimin pouts, brow furrowed, and it makes Taehyung giggle before he reaches out and squishes Jimin’s cheeks together. “Cute. Jiminnie is cute, right hyung?”

They both turn to Seokjin, who looks vaguely startled to have their attention. He raises an eyebrow. “Seems like there’s no right answer to that question,” he says, but he’s grinning.

“No, the right answer is that he’s cute. I mean, obviously I am too, that’s not cancelled out or anything,” Taehyung replies with his own smile. He still has a hand on one of Jimin’s cheeks (he kind of forgot to take it off.)

Seokjin laughs. “Okay. Jiminnie is cute.” It’s the first time Seokjin’s called Jimin that, and Taehyung doesn’t have time to feel pleased about it before Seokjin steps out of the room and toward the couch.

When they settle in for the movie (Seokjin’s pick tonight, all deep and meaningful and shit), they end up arranged with Seokjin in the middle, Taehyung sitting with his cold feet tucked under Seokjin’s thighs and Jimin finding reasons to scoot closer during the movie.

It’s two weeks of little things like that, little things like Jimin walking around the apartment in some mild state of undress and apologizing but not moving to go put something on. Little smirks and glances, Jimin’s specialty, that seem to leave Seokjin a little off-balance.

Sometimes Taehyung will tease Seokjin, because it’s something he just likes to do, and Jimin will smirk and say, “Aish, you’re so mean to him.”

“He must like insolent kids,” Taehyung will smirk back at him, standing inches away from Seokjin but looking at Jimin instead.

And Jimin will walk up and pinch at Taehyung’s cheek, or poke the freckle on his nose, and say, “Well, you are the most insolent kid.”

It’s two weeks of little things and two weeks of subtle but noticeable reaction from Seokjin that the two of them track a little obsessively. But sometimes, it’s the unplanned stuff that gets him most, like when one of Jimin’s t-shirts ends up in Taehyung’s drawers by mistake and he pulls it over his head only to find that it hugs at him tighter than anything he buys for himself.

“How are his clothes so much smaller than mine?” Taehyung grouses, pulling at the fabric on his stomach with a frown.

“Well, from what I’ve seen,” Seokjin replies slowly, lying in the mess of sheets on Taehyung’s bed, “Jimin tends to have a better idea of what his actual size is.”

“I know my size. I just add two,” Taehyung defends. “For coziness.”

“Right. Well Jimin subtracts one,” Seokjin jokes.

“Which do you prefer?” Taehyung asks, modeling the shirt in the most exaggerated way he can think of, which involves a lot of spins and muscle flexing. He doesn’t really have anything to flex, since his body type can best be described as “soft noodle,” but it’s the principle of the thing.

It makes Seokjin laugh and pull him by the wrist over to the bed. “I like anything you wear.”

“Anything? I thought you told me that I was too old to wear shirts that I cut my own neckline into,” Taehyung says with a snort.

“That was only because you told me I was too old to wear ripped jeans,” Seokjin counters, dropping Taehyung’s wrist to flick his leg.

Taehyung winces but he’s laughing. “Hyung, you are too old for that.”

“Brat!” Seokjin laughs back, pulling himself up to drag Taehyung onto the bed.

Taehyung catches him staring at the shirt, eyes going up and down Taehyung’s torso, and he smirks. “You just saw me naked, is this really more interesting?”

“Well, a little. The novelty of it, you know. Maybe you should borrow more shirts from Jimin,” Seokjin says with a grin.

“They do look good on him,” Taehyung concedes.

Seokjin nods absentmindedly, and like he doesn’t quite realize what he’s agreeing with, says, “Yeah, they do.” Taehyung counts it as a win.

The thing is, the little things are good and all, but Taehyung’s getting impatient waiting for a shoe to drop. He’s had a lot of time to sit on this now, this...thing with the three of them, the idea of it, and he’s not good with waiting. For one, his alone time is starting to feel depressing — he hasn’t fantasized so much about one thing over and over again since high school. But for two, Taehyung is a human being with eyes, and Jimin’s efforts have been affecting him too. When Jimin winks and lets his touch linger on Seokjin’s arm, or shoulder, or waist, Taehyung has to sit in the audience of it and clench his jaw. And when Jimin catches his eye as he walks away, he smirks a little, all cocky, and it’s...driving Taehyung a little crazy, all in all.

“It’s weird,” Taehyung says to Jungkook at some point, on the phone with him as he walks through the grocery store. “I never really thought about Jimin as attractive before.”

“Hyung,” Jungkook replies in a long-suffering voice, “last year at his birthday party you yelled at everyone in that club that Park Jimin was the sexiest man you had ever known.”

“Well, yeah,” Taehyung says. “That’s true. I wasn’t talking about like, to me specifically, though. And I was trying to get him laid.”

Jungkook sighs. “Well, of course. How’d that work out?”

“He ended up coming back home with me and we ordered pizza and ate it on the roof. It was cool,” Taehyung smiles at the memory. It was cool, even if it was kind of cold and Jimin kept complaining about how uncomfortable his clubbing outfit was while they ate. They looked at the stars together. It was nice.

“Weird. You’d think that after someone loudly stated how attractive the person they came to a party with is, people would just start flocking.” Jungkook sounds all bored and sarcastic again, and it’s rude.

“Didn’t you do that once to Yoongi?” Taehyung asks, trying to piece together some slightly hazy memories from Namjoon’s birthday party last year. Jungkook was very drunk, and told a group of three strangers (some guys Namjoon knew?) that Min Yoongi was “very cute tonight.”

“Yes. Exactly. Because I wanted to —” Jungkook cuts off, apparently realizing the hole he’s digging for himself.

“Wanted to what?” Taehyung asks with a smile.

“I...had a crush on him. That’s why I called him cute. That’s why you compliment people.” Jungkook’s grumbling in a low voice, apparently annoyed at having been bested.

Taehyung’s having fun again. “Hm, had? Past tense? Because Joonie-hyung told me that you were over there last week when he went to drop something off at Yoongi’s. At eight in the morning.”

Jungkook splutters. “I was in the area!”

“In the area of Yoongi-hyung’s ass?” Taehyung asks innocently.

“Fuck you, Tae,” Jungkook spits. Taehyung can hear him sulking.

“Secrets don’t make friends, Kookie,” Taehyung sing-songs, adding cereal to his grocery basket.

“I’m an adult!” Jungkook says back, but it’s in a whine that doesn’t help his case. “Just because I’m not you, and I don’t inform my friends of every time I breathe —”

“If I didn’t tell you I was breathing, how would you know I was alive? I’m just trying to keep everyone from worrying.”

“Get off the phone with me and go try to fuck Jimin already, god,” Jungkook says, and Taehyung can hear the eye-roll. “And could you do me a favor and tell me less about this process? Because it is exhausting trying to make you realize that you have wanted to fuck him, or date him, or daydream about his eyes or whatever weird mating ritual you want to do, for years! Years of my life, Taehyung, have been spent attempting to point out how much you love Park Jimin’s stupid ass.”

“Well if we’re just talking about his ass, I don’t have any arguments. But that’s a pretty shared experience for most people who are both attracted to men and have seen Jimin’s ass,” Taehyung says.

Jungkook lets out a little scream. “Taehyung. Have I ever once complimented your ass? The ass of my platonic best friend?”

“Well no, but you’re not very emotionally forthcoming, Jungkookie. For example, I didn’t even know I was your best friend. I’m honored.” Taehyung is deflecting; he knows it, Jungkook knows it, and the lady eyeing him from the next aisle over might even know it. It’s fine.

“You’re so annoying,” Jungkook sighs. “You’re so annoying, and I am never going to tell you anything about me and Yoongi-hyung.”

“Aha! So there’s something to tell!” Taehyung cries triumphantly.

Jungkook groans. He’s so dramatic sometimes. “Look. Let’s make a deal.”

“I love to make a deal,” Taehyung replies.

“If you successfully get Park Jimin’s dick in your mouth, I’ll fill you in on my romantic life, okay?” Jungkook offers. It’s crude, but it’s very big of him, considering he has been guarding the secrets of his sex life for about a year, claiming that Taehyung “pries too much.”

Taehyung considers. It hadn’t explicitly been in the plans to have Jimin’s dick in his mouth, but it’s plan-adjacent for sure. Doable. Probably easy to work into his schedule. “Okay. You’re on.”

“Great,” Jungkook mutters. “Fucking fantastic.”

“Wait. Romantic life? Does that mean Yoongi-hyung’s been taking you like, on dates and stuff? Does he pay for you? Has he bought you flowers?”

Taehyung isn’t sure which question made Jungkook hang up, only that the line is dead when he stops talking.

The shoe drops a week before Christmas. Taehyung stays at school late on Friday, getting things together for the last week before the break, and it’s nearly six by the time he gets home. His phone died at one, and he forgot his charger, so he’s felt appropriately cut off from the world for hours now. It’s only after he gets his key in the door of the apartment and hears Seokjin’s squeaky laugh from inside that he remembers, shit, he was supposed to meet Seokjin at five.

He swings the door open with an apology already in his mouth, kicking his shoes off as he repeats, “Sorry sorry sorry, oh god,” but when he looks up, he feels less guilty for accidentally ditching Seokjin.

In front of him, Seokjin and Jimin are sitting close together on the couch, each with a glass of wine in their hands. Seokjin looks like he went home and changed half-heartedly after work, switching out slacks for jeans but still in an untucked oxford shirt with his hair styled back. Jimin looks how he always looks, a pair of tight jeans and a sweatshirt of Taehyung’s that he’s been looking for. His hair is always doing this thing where it looks like it’s on the verge of flopping onto his forehead, but from the sheer muscle memory of Jimin pushing it back every five minutes, it stays looking softly tousled and handsome.

“There you are,” Seokjin says with a smile that makes Taehyung feel warm.

“There he is,” Jimin follows up with. He’s smiling too, and they look nice together like this, looking at him a little teasing and a little soft. It’s nice to come home to, he thinks.

Taehyung swallows, trying to limit his smile back. “Sorry. I was planning lessons, I totally forgot we were supposed to meet, hyung.”

Seokjin shrugs. “It’s okay. Jiminnie kept me company.”

“He’s a good person to keep you company,” Taehyung agrees happily. He walks over and leans down to Seokjin, kissing his cheek lightly.

Taehyung doesn’t know what it is. He really, really doesn’t have an explanation for what makes him move over and, without thinking, kiss Jimin’s cheek too.

It’s instantaneous, the chill that freezes the room. Taehyung is still, eyes widening as he realizes, and he can feel how stiff Jimin is too. Taehyung can’t really see Seokjin from this position, but when he pulls back from Jimin’s face, he has his eyebrows raised.

“So,” Seokjin starts, taking a sip of his wine and looking relatively calm. “Are we going to cut the shit now, or?”

Taehyung wasn’t expecting that one, and from the confusion on Jimin’s face, he guesses neither of them were. “What?”

“Neither of you are any good at being subtle,” Seokjin tells them simply.

“Subtle about what?” Jimin asks in a small voice. He’s a terrible actor, Taehyung thinks, with the way he’s biting his lip nervously.

Seokjin looks between them, then apparently decides to take pity on their startled little faces and explain. “Jimin, you’ve been flirting with me for weeks. Taehyungie, every time he does it you get this thrilled little look on your face. I’ve just been trying to understand what you’re hoping to accomplish here.”

Oh, Taehyung thinks. “Oh,” Taehyung says out loud.

“For a while, I thought maybe you were realizing you have feelings for Jimin — which, by the way, Taehyung, I think you have feelings for Jimin. But that doesn’t really explain why it’s centered on me. So would someone care to explain?” Seokjin sits back, and it’s amazing how intimidating he can look even with the corner of his lips upturned like he’s amused. Taehyung isn’t sure if it’s genuine or not. He’s never really seen Seokjin angry, maybe this is what it looks like.

“It’s not that,” Taehyung starts with. Jimin and Seokjin both look at him. “I mean...it’s not...that’s not why.”

“So you don’t have feelings for Jimin.” It’s not even phrased as a question, just a statement that Seokjin utters in a way that says you can’t possibly be disagreeing with me on this.

“Well,” Taehyung mutters, mouth hanging open for lack of knowing what to say. “I don’t know. That’s not important.”

“It feels kind of important to me,” Seokjin tells him. Maybe he is angry — there’s a coldness around his words that’s making Taehyung start to sweat. This is stressful.

“We had a plan,” is all Taehyung can think to say. This does not impress Seokjin.

“Tae, shut up,” Jimin urges him with a glare. “You’re terrible at this.”

“Well, you haven’t exactly been jumping in to help, I’m just —”

“You haven’t even given me a chance, you just keep saying stupid shit —”

“Stop,” Seokjin tells them both. They both go quiet. “Jimin, you go.”

“I…” Now that Jimin’s been given an opening, he looks at more of a loss. At least he makes it look nice, biting his lip nervously and looking down at his clasped hands with pink in his cheeks. He’s shy, Taehyung realizes. Jimin, for all his confidence and showmanship, is so easily embarrassed.

“Hyung, you’re very attractive,” Taehyung decides to jump in with. He’s winging it. It feels right.

Seokjin just looks at him. “Yeah. I know.”

“And so modest,” Taehyung teases, but it’s not the time, and Jimin and Seokjin both glare at him. “Sorry. Uh. Just. I’m not the only person in the world who thinks so, you know?”

“Yeah. I know that too. People offer me free food sometimes. It’s great.”

Taehyung sighs. “Or this apartment. I’m not the only person in this apartment who thinks you’re attractive, hyung.”

Seokjin doesn’t seem to have a reply ready for that. Jimin’s cheeks go from pink to red, his ears stained with it too. Taehyung lets the silence sit in the room, lets Seokjin process this. “A plan,” Seokjin repeats quietly. “You had a plan. A plan for what?”

“Well, we thought maybe a neat solution might be…” Taehyung trails off, not sure how to complete that eloquently, but Seokjin seems to realize.

“Were you trying to...the three of us?” Seokjin asks in a quiet voice.

“Well,” Taehyung says sheepishly. Jimin’s apparently gathered the strength to look up at them now, and he keeps biting his lip, and Taehyung wishes it wasn’t attractive.

“Oh,” Seokjin murmurs.

There’s another moment of silence, kind of heavy, before Taehyung asks, “Is that a good oh or a bad oh?”

Seokjin ignores him, instead turning to Jimin. “Jiminnie,” he says in a soft voice, and Jimin’s head goes back down again. Seokjin reaches out to tip his chin up, and that’s a nice image, isn’t it. “Jiminnie, you like me?”

Jimin runs a hand through his hair (again.) “Yeah. I like you.”

Seokjin exhales. “This is a lot to take in, you know.”

“Why, because Jimin’s so hot?” Taehyung asks. It’s an earnest question, and he doesn’t appreciate when Jimin glares and jabs at his side in response.

Seokjin just snorts. “A little bit because of that, yeah.” That shuts Jimin up again.

“So?” Taehyung asks nervously. The suspense is killing him. He’s too impatient for this.

Seokjin looks between them. “Well, it sounds...good…” He offers, which makes Taehyung smile brightly.

“That’s what I said!” Taehyung exclaims.

Jimin is fixing them both with a look. “Really? That’s all the deliberation you need? You and Taehyung are great together, you’re both weird as hell.”

“Jimin, you’ve been flirting with my boyfriend for weeks,” Taehyung reminds him.

“But I had to do some thinking and some research first!” Jimin says defensively, crossing his arms in front of him.

Taehyung pauses. “You did research?”

Jimin blushes again. “Unlike you, some of us don’t just follow all of our dumb ideas without any analysis.”

“Hey,” Seokjin and Taehyung both say at the same time.

“This one wasn’t that dumb,” Jimin grumbles appeasingly.

“Better,” Taehyung tells him.

It’s quiet again. Taehyung stands in front of the two of them shifting his weight between feet. “Well, hyung?”

“Taehyungie, sit down, you’re so impatient,” Seokjin complains. Taehyung does as he’s told, but he’s still staring between the two of them anxiously.

“He’s the worst,” Jimin agrees. Taehyung glares at him.

Seokjin lets him sweat for another moment before he says, a little softer, “It does sound nice.”

Taehyung can’t stop the small smile he gets at that. “Yeah. It does.”

“How exactly would we...I mean, how does this work. Jiminnie, divulge your research,” Seokjin tells him. He sounds more relaxed now, the edge in his voice gone.

Jimin still looks kind of embarrassed but he nods. “It’s, um, a thing. There’s a word for it I don’t remember. It works however we want, I think.”

“And how do we want it to work?” Seokjin asks Jimin, a lilt in his voice. Taehyung recognizes this Seokjin, a little teasing and a little dangerous. He looks amused with himself, head tilted back attractively, and he leans a little into Jimin’s space to ask.

Jimin’s eyes widen a little, lips parting just slightly, and when he looks at them like that, the full reality of the situation suddenly hits Taehyung like a pile of bricks. “Shit,” he mutters by accident, and the moment breaks, both of them turning to look at him and Seokjin giggling.

“This is kind of fun,” Seokjin decides with a pleased smile.

Taehyung should have figured he’d like the attention of two people even better than one. It seems obvious now.

“So did the plan work, then?” Taehyung asks, pleased. Jimin rolls his eyes and Seokjin snorts.

“If your plan was to confuse the hell out of me, then yes,” Seokjin tells him lightly.

“Well, a little. Like, sexually, you know?” Taehyung offers. “I was hoping the resolution would be a little more...smooth.”

“What, you were hoping that one day it would become too much for me and I would storm into the room demanding I bed you both at once? This isn’t some weird romance novel, Tae,” Seokjin jokes, looking amused. “Most of the time in real life people need to talk about things together.”

There’s a pause where Taehyung decides to be an adult and not voice that talking about things is boring, and Jimin seems to share his sentiment. Seokjin makes a little sighing-type noise and then says, “Have you two ever...done that? Talked about things together?”

“What do we have to talk about?” Jimin asks, looking curious.

They don’t usually need to talk about things. Taehyung remembers meeting Jimin when he was nineteen and being blown away that someone so totally on his wavelength (or at least, firmly next door to his wavelength) even existed, someone who usually knew what he was thinking, who just kind of...got him. Taehyung thinks he can say the same for himself, too, that he knows Jimin well enough that he rarely has to explain himself for Taehyung to know what’s up.

“Ah,” Seokjin says, but that’s all he says before he shrugs to himself.

There’s kind of an unspoken What now? between them as they sit on the couch, looking at each other with a weird thrum of nervousness.

“So!” Seokjin says, clapping his hands lightly. “Let’s go do something.”

“Go do what, hyung?” Jimin asks him.

“I don’t know. Something. If I’m dating you then we’re going on a date,” Seokjin decides, standing up decisively.

“You’re so hardworking, Seokjinnie-hyung,” Taehyung tells him with a grin, letting Seokjin pull him up from the couch by the wrist. Taehyung does the same for Jimin, letting his hand linger on Jimin’s because it’s easier than pulling away.

“You wanna do barbecue?” Seokjin asks, already putting his shoes on.

“That depends on whether or not you’re going to pay,” Jimin tells him with a little smirk.

Seokjin smiles back, and they both look at each other for a second, a lingering glance that makes Taehyung feel a little dumbstruck. “I’ll pay for you. It’s our first date, isn’t it?”

They stay grinning at each other, flirting without saying anything, before Seokjin turns to Taehyung. “You’re on your own though.”

“What?” Taehyung whines at the injustice as Jimin cackles.

“You’re old news, and I’m not made of money,” Seokjin teases him before he leans in to kiss his cheek. Jimin’s looking at them, and Taehyung wonders if he feels the same dim fire at the sight that Taehyung felt a moment ago.

The walk to the barbecue place close to their apartment is pretty quiet; Jimin forgets his gloves, and Taehyung and Seokjin take turns holding his hands and putting them in their coat pockets. “It’s weird if you each hold one, I feel like your kid or something,” Jimin complains, so he continues to be inefficiently warmed until they get inside to the warmth of the restaurant.

It feels like any other night from the past few weeks, with Jimin pressed between them and Seokjin making stupid jokes and smiling his most annoying smile as Jimin and Taehyung groan. And just like all the nights from the past few weeks, it feels nice. Seokjin cooks the meat, Jimin complains about his knee that keeps acting up at practice, and they all keep getting squished closer together in the booth. It’s comfortable and warm and easy, but there’s a tension around them that makes itself more visible when Seokjin leans over to wipe something from the corner of Jimin’s lip, or when Taehyung realizes that he and Seokjin each have a hand on one of Jimin’s knees.

None of them have anything to drink but it kind of feels like that, the way he keeps getting warmer all night until they leave the restaurant. It’s the same giddy kind of head rush Taehyung gets from exactly one drink, which is usually when he cuts himself off, because it’s the most fun place to be when you’re drinking.

They joke and laugh on their walk home, noses and ears cold in the wind, and when they walk inside, Jimin starts whining again about his cold fingers.

“Jiminnie, put your gloves inside your coat pockets,” Taehyung tells him, gesturing to where they’re hanging individually on the coat rack like weird outstretched hands. “That’s what I tell my kindergarteners. Do you need to pin them to your jacket too?”

“So mean,” Jimin accuses, sticking out his tongue, but he takes the gloves and puts them in his pockets anyway with a bit of a pout.

He’s still rubbing his fingers together, red from the cold, and after Seokjin hangs his jacket up he turns to Jimin with his hands outstretched. “Here,” he says quietly, and wraps Jimin’s hands in his own. Jimin looks a little surprised and a little pink, and Taehyung smiles.

“Your hands are small,” Seokjin notices, voice soft.

“It’s cute,” Taehyung says, feeling warm again. He’s said it before, more times than he remembers, but it’s still true.

Jimin seems embarrassed, like he’s going to pull away, but he doesn’t seem to be able to after looking at Seokjin. “It is cute,” Seokjin echoes, smiling at Jimin with that same look from earlier, the one that gets Taehyung a little riled up just from association at this point, like a very oddly trained dog.

It’s electric, the air between Seokjin and Jimin as they stand in the doorway with their shoes still on, Jimin’s hands held together in Seokjin’s.

“Stop drooling, Taehyung-ah, I’m going to kiss him,” Seokjin says it while still looking at Jimin, voice soft enough that Taehyung thinks he imagined it for a second, but the blush on Jimin’s face says it was real.

“Thank god,” Jimin mutters, and he doesn’t give Seokjin a chance to make good on his word before he leans up and kisses Seokjin first, a rush of a kiss that Jimin doesn’t let either of them pull back from quickly.

Taehyung lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, like a balloon letting out air. It’s fitting, since he feels like he’s deflating just looking at the two of them, their kiss a little hurried and messy and a lot pretty — Jimin’s hands come up to Seokjin’s hair and then one of Seokjin’s is at Jimin’s hip, and Taehyung feels dizzy.

“Wow,” he mumbles, dazed, and it makes them both start laughing, pulling back from each other. “Sorry,” Taehyung apologizes sheepishly, but he’s not feeling that apologetic.

“Keep it together, Tae,” Jimin tells him with a little smirk, but he steps back to take his shoes off, apparently having shaken off the fog that he got pulled into with Seokjin.

“You’re a good kisser,” Seokjin tells Jimin with a smile as he does the same, all of them finally leaving the cramped entryway of the apartment.

“Oh?” Jimin asks, and it’s so coy. How does Park Jimin go around being so damn coy? Taehyung can’t do coy, even a little bit, but it looks so good on Jimin.

“Are you really?” Taehyung asks curiously.

“You’ve never kissed before?” Seokjin asks, looking between them.

Jimin raises an eyebrow. “It hasn’t really come up, no.”

“Why would we have?” Taehyung asks.

Seokjin just shrugs. “You know, it happens sometimes. I’ve kissed Hoseok before.” They both stare at him and he crosses his arms defensively. “It happens! You get drunk, you kiss whoever’s nearest, you know.”

“I’ve kissed Jungkook like that, but not Jimin,” Taehyung offers.

“You’ve kissed Jungkook?” Jimin asks in surprise.

Taehyung sighs, feeling embarrassed. “He was really drunk, I was really drunk, it was New Year’s, he threw up afterward —”

Jimin’s laughter cuts him off, and Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Wow, complimentary.”

“It was a long time ago,” Taehyung defends himself. “I haven’t made anyone vomit since.”

“I wouldn’t blame yourself too much, Jungkookie can’t handle liquor for shit,” Jimin says with a grin. “I mean, better than you, but.”

“Hey,” Taehyung says with a pout.

Seokjin’s standing there watching them, Taehyung can feel it, and it makes him both self-conscious and overly aware of himself in a good way. Like he’s putting on a show and he wants to make it good.

“Come on, I want to see if you live up to your reviews,” Taehyung tells Jimin, stepping toward him experimentally.

Jimin looks a little surprised, underneath his cool and confident facade. They hadn’t really talked about this much, the exact details of how this arrangement would play out, but Taehyung feels good about it, feels like he’s hedging a safe bet.

“Yeah?” Jimin asks. There’s an edge of flirtation to it, but it’s a real question too, a check-in to see if this is okay as he meets Taehyung halfway.

“Yeah,” Taehyung breathes back, looking down at Jimin’s lips. It’s starting to feel very real, being this close to him, their bodies almost pressed together with the kind of intentions he’s never consciously had before.

There’s a moment of hesitation, like both of them are figuring out how this is going to work, before Taehyung bites the bullet and leans down slowly, bringing one of his hands to tip Jimin’s jaw up and press their lips together.

It’s nothing like how Seokjin and Jimin’s kiss looked. It’s slow and a little apprehensive, more gentle than Taehyung really intended to be. But it’s...nice. Really nice. Jimin deepens it easily, his hands on Taehyung’s hips, and that feels good. Jimin feels good, kisses good, is so solid and warm right flush against him. Taehyung thinks he might be leaning up on his tippy-toes and god, that’s fucking cute. Jimin is so cute, and this is so nice — Taehyung feels like he’s unraveling.

His breathing gets heavier when Jimin parts his lips, pulls him in tighter, drags him down deeper, and at some point some several moments later, Taehyung has to pull back just to stay sane. They both stay pressed together, looking at each other and panting just a little, before Taehyung mumbles, “Oh.”

Jimin nods, apparently agreeing with the sentiment as they look each other over. There’s a word for when you love someone and want to spend all your time with them and also love kissing them, Taehyung knows. He thinks about Jungkook, Seokjin, all the other people they’ve known who asked them if they were dating or hooking up, and can’t remember why he was ever shocked about it. Why hadn’t they been? Why hadn’t they been kissing like this the whole time, if it was going to be that good?

“That was…” Taehyung starts, and his voice cracks on it, making Jimin laugh.

“Yeah,” Jimin agrees breathlessly. “Yeah, that was.”

“So,” Seokjin interjects, and they both jump. He hadn’t forgotten Seokjin was there, he’d been very aware of his gaze, but his brain is really working at half-speed at the moment. “I feel like more talking should happen.”

He says that, but when Taehyung looks over at him, he looks a little overwhelmed himself. “No, it’s okay,” Taehyung says.

“Yeah, I think there are more pressing matters,” Jimin says quietly, with something closer to a real smile than a smirk.

“Really? No big emotional epiphanies to mull over there?” Seokjin asks, voice returning to its normal teasing tone. “Because I gotta say, that looked like an emotional epiphany kiss.”

“It was good,” Jimin says, looking up at Taehyung happily. “It was really good.”

“Luckily, you’re allowed to do it many more times,” Taehyung tells him helpfully. “Whenever you want, as of just now, when I decided to give you permission for that.”

“Ooh, permission. Sexy,” Jimin says in a mocking voice, but in that way he has where he still sounds kind. They smile at each other, and it’s mostly the same as it’s always been, but Taehyung can feel a shift. He’s never had a kiss that cracked the ground under his feet and set his world spinning like that one did, and he trusts that Jimin feels the same way. He always trusts Jimin with things like that, and it’s never let him down before.

Seokjin just sighs. “Kids these days.” He has the expression of a man who is trying to herd cats, but it seems like he might finally be letting go of it with a roll of his eyes.

Jimin’s hands are still on Taehyung’s hips, thumbs pressed firm into the skin beneath his t-shirt, and he pulls Taehyung forward a little. “Come on, my room’s cleaner.”

“That’s romantic,” Seokjin says with a snort, but he follows along without any other complaint. He reaches out to rest a hand on the small of Taehyung’s back, and one of Jimin’s is still on his hip, and they meet somewhere in the middle in a way that’s a little overwhelming. There are a lot of hands. This isn’t something Taehyung has considered before, but there are a lot of hands, between the three of them, and Seokjin and Jimin are both touchy to begin with. He swallows heavily as Jimin walks into his bedroom, turns his dimmest lamp on, and looks back at them with a smile.

“Okay, this is a lot cleaner than Taehyung’s room,” Seokjin notes, looking around. Taehyung rolls his eyes, but it’s true, Jimin has always been neater than him. It’s more put-together, too, like one singular person decorated it instead of Taehyung’s collection of mismatched flea market finds. Another possibly important detail is that Jimin’s bed is noticeably bigger than Taehyung’s, which seems helpful in the current context.

There’s a moment of awkwardness while they all look at each other, like they’re considering how to fit three puzzle pieces together. Taehyung supposes this is a hazard of sex with multiple partners, the configuration of it all. Seokjin looks like he’s trying to figure out a riddle, glancing between them and Jimin’s bed, and it only takes another moment for Taehyung to get impatient. So his solution, as it is to more problems than just this one, is to tug at the bottom hem of his shirt and shove it over his head before walking over to Seokjin and kissing him.

Seokjin gasps a little against him in surprise, which is stupid because he should be used to this. Maybe it’s the added layer of Jimin watching from three feet away, the way his eyes looked wide as Taehyung stepped forward. But this is familiar, and they fall into a rhythm, Seokjin’s hands on his sides and his body pressed flush against him, his lips soft.

There’s rustling around from outside of their kiss, the sound of a drawer being fumbled through. “Sorry, is this presumptuous?” Jimin asks, and Taehyung pulls away to see him holding a bottle of lube and condoms.

“God, I hope not,” Taehyung breathes.

Seokjin just grins. “Very prepared.”

“Well, I’d rather get it out now than, you know, in the moment. Kind of ruins the mood,” Jimin says, scrunching his nose.

“Cute,” Seokjin laughs. As much as Taehyung loves to watch them look at each other like this, he’d like it more if anyone else was as undressed as him.

“Come on, I’m all alone,” Taehyung complains in Jimin’s direction, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Jimin rolls his eyes. “You’re such a baby.” Still, though, he pulls his shirt over his head, hanging it neatly off of the back of his desk chair. Taehyung doesn’t care for that — in his opinion, clothing removal should be as messy as possible.

He walks over and throws Jimin’s shirt on the floor. “You’re ruining it, that’s not fun.”

“You’re ruining my shirt, Tae,” Jimin says with a pout.

“I’ll ruin your face,” Taehyung counters, before he makes a face and thinks better of it. “No, sorry, that’s not sexy, ignore that.”

“This is horrible. Is he always like this?” Jimin asks Seokjin, looking displeased.

Seokjin hums like he’s considering. “Kind of.”

“Why are you still wearing a shirt?” Taehyung asks Seokjin instead of responding to that.

“I don’t know, no one has asked me not to,” Seokjin shrugs, but his fingers go up to start unbuttoning at the mention of it.

Taehyung walks over to help, but he gets distracted with smoothing his hands over Seokjin’s shoulders instead. “Hyung, you should assume that I always want you to take your shirt off.”

Seokjin smiles at that, his big goofy one that he does when he’s really pleased about something. “Noted.” He’s down to the t-shirt he had on under his button-up now, and Taehyung slips a hand underneath it, thumb stroking over the soft skin of Seokjin’s stomach when Seokjin leans in to kiss him. They break for Seokjin to finally pull his shirt off, but it doesn’t slow them down much.

Taehyung is already having trouble juggling everything going on, and they’re all still half-dressed; Seokjin is kissing him like he fucking means it, and before Taehyung knows it there’s another hand on his hip, smaller and a little more careful.

“My turn,” Jimin says quietly, a laugh in his voice, before hip-checking Taehyung out of the way and taking his place in front of Seokjin, who looks unbothered by this. Taehyung finds he doesn’t care much either when he takes in the sight of the two of them pressed together skin to skin, Jimin arched up to meet Seokjin’s lips.

Taehyung goes around to Seokjin’s back, squeezing his arms between Seokjin and Jimin to wrap them around Seokjin’s middle. The view from here is good too, because he can just barely make out Jimin’s concentrated face, eyes closed while they kiss. Taehyung presses a kiss to the nape of Seokjin’s neck just because he can, splays his fingers out on Seokjin’s stomach. When he moves slow and light, he can feel muscles shuddering under his fingertips, which he always likes.

He’s pleased when he feels Jimin’s hands brush against his, going for the fly of Seokjin’s jeans from the feel of it, and he smiles against Seokjin’s skin. Taehyung pulls his hands back to grip at Seokjin’s sides, giving Jimin room to do whatever he wants, and he kissing lightly along the line of Seokjin’s shoulders. The sound of a zipper, Seokjin gasping, then Jimin laughing a little.

“Is he wearing pink underwear?” Taehyung asks quietly, hooking his chin on Seokjin’s shoulder to smile at Jimin.

Seokjin makes a little offended noise at the question, but Jimin just says, “Yeah.” He’s grinning loose and slow, and god, that’s sexy. Jimin pushing his hair back and running his tongue over his lower lip, pink and swollen from kissing, is sexy.

“I’ve been dreaming about this,” Taehyung blurts out. His brain-to-mouth filter is impaired, losing strength by the minute as he looks at Jimin looking at them.

Seokjin huffs a little laugh, bringing a hand up to meet Taehyung’s on his side, and Jimin raises his eyebrows. “Interesting,” Seokjin says, turning his head to the side to meet his eye. “Tell me about it.”

He turns, and then Taehyung is met with the sight of all of him, hair mussed and lips shiny and pink, pants half-unzipped with his favorite pair of pink briefs visible underneath. His gaze is heavy, and Taehyung swallows. What does he have to lose, really, he figures. If you can’t vocalize your sex fantasies in front of the objects of said fantasies, who can you tell about them?

“You and Jimin,” Taehyung manages as Seokjin’s hands move to Taehyung’s stomach, the waist of his jeans, back and down to his ass. “You fucking Jimin, I mean.”

Jimin makes a sort of choked noise behind Seokjin, mutters, “Jesus, Tae.”

“Oh,” Taehyung says quietly, tilting his head to catch Jimin’s eye. He looks pink. “If you don’t want to, I mean, it’s not like —”

“No, I didn’t…” Jimin cuts him off quickly. “I didn’t say that. You just...get right to the point.”

Taehyung shrugs before looking back at Seokjin, whose reaction to Taehyung’s suggestion is...visible. His mouth is parted a little in surprise, pupils blown wide in the low light. “Yeah,” he mumbles, taking his hands off of Taehyung’s ass to come undo his jeans, push them down hastily. “Okay. Yeah.”

Taehyung wiggles out of his jeans the best he can, which is a little uncoordinated and ridiculous, but gets the job done. It’s maybe slightly embarrassing that he’s already half-hard, but there’s a lot currently happening to him. “Get on the bed,” Seokjin tells him in a voice that would be sweet if he wasn’t looking at Taehyung like that, and Taehyung nods, no reason not to follow directions.

By the time he looks back, Seokjin and Jimin are pressed together again, Seokjin walking Jimin backwards until his legs hit the bed and he nearly falls back. They pull away from each other and Jimin smiles as he lies down next to Taehyung, the denim of his jeans brushing against Taehyung’s bare leg.

“Hi,” Taehyung says to him in an almost-whisper.

Jimin laughs softly. “Hi.”

Seokjin sits down on Jimin’s other side, and Taehyung feels a little bad for stealing Jimin’s attention, but he can’t help himself from rolling over onto his side so he can lean down and kiss Jimin through a smile. It’s electric, the feeling of him underneath Taehyung, this weird mesh of familiar (the smell of Jimin’s clothes, the sound of his laugh) and brand fucking new (feeling the tautness of his stomach with careful fingertips, the hitch in his breath), and Taehyung could do this forever, he thinks. Jimin’s got his tongue in Taehyung’s mouth and a hand just above his ass, and it’s so surreal and so good, his head is spinning.

He pulls away panting, resting his head on Jimin’s collarbone and trying to catch his breath. “I wanna do something.”

“Do it, then,” Jimin tells him, and Taehyung smiles into Jimin’s chest. He wonders if there’s anything he could say that Jimin wouldn’t trust.

He picks his head up to look at Seokjin, whose eyes are hooded, looking down at them. Taehyung shoots him a smile before scooting off the bed and sinking down to his knees on the floor in front of them.

“Shit,” Jimin mutters, propping himself up to look at Taehyung, who’s still smiling a little.

He starts at Seokjin, leaning down to kiss his stomach as he pulls at his jeans. Seokjin lifts his hips easily so that Taehyung can pull them down properly, and then Taehyung kisses his newly-exposed thighs. Another familiar rhythm, on his knees in front of Seokjin. He bites at the inside of Seokjin’s thigh like he likes, hand cupping at his crotch, before Taehyung pulls down his pink briefs easily.

Seokjin’s mostly hard when Taehyung leans in and directs the head of his dick onto the flat of his tongue, earning a hiss of breath from Seokjin. He doesn’t go too much farther, only using a spit-slicked hand to stroke him and his tongue in short licks until he’s hard, as his other hand finds its way to Jimin’s thigh.

They’re good thighs — this is another objective fact about Park Jimin. Muscular. Jimin makes a little noise at the contact, and here’s something else Taehyung knows about him: he’s loud. They’ve spent five years with adjacent bedrooms, and this is just something he’s learned over that time. Taehyung has a couple pairs of earplugs that he usually tries to find, but sometimes he’s too lazy, and he has to lay in bed trying not to figure out if Jimin is alone or not. At the moment, Jimin’s volume level is less annoying and more exciting, sending a small little thrill through him.

He moves his hand up more, fingers running slow against the inseam of Jimin’s jeans, other hand trying to keep a steady rhythm on Seokjin. This is more hand-eye coordination he’s used in months, he thinks. Eventually he makes it up to where he can feel Jimin hard and bulging in his jeans, and his attempt at unzipping them one-handed is clumsy until Seokjin helps him.

Taehyung looks up with a smile at Seokjin, licks a stripe underneath the head of his dick that makes Seokjin exhale heavily. “Tease,” Seokjin accuses in a low voice.

Taehyung doesn’t disagree, presses an open-mouthed kiss to the side of his dick instead. But then he pulls his mouth away, and shifts so that he’s more in front of Jimin. One glance up tells him that Jimin’s in a bad way from almost nothing at all, bottom lip between his teeth and breathing a little heavy. Taehyung squeezes at Jimin’s dick through his jeans and underwear, and Jimin bucks forward a little.

“Jiminnie,” Taehyung starts, taking his hand off Seokjin (at which Seokjin makes a disappointed kind of noise) so that he can work at pulling off Jimin’s jeans. “Who’s the last person you were with?”

“Is that relevant?” Jimin asks, sounding annoyed, but picking his hips up to help Taehyung’s effort. He recognizes Jimin’s underwear, because they tend to do a lot of shared laundry; they’re the soft black boxer-briefs that Taehyung always thinks seem comfortable when he folds them.

“Just wondering,” Taehyung says with a little shrug. “Was it that girl from your studio? Momo?”

“Yeah,” Jimin manages as Taehyung finishes peeling Jimin’s jeans off of his legs. So damn tight, jesus.

“Then it’s been a while, huh?” Taehyung asks with a smirk. Jimin scoffs and hits him on the head.

“Ow. Rude.”

“You’re rude, Taehyung,” Jimin grumbles.

Taehyung looks up at him to pout. “I was just trying to figure out why you’re so eager.”

Jimin hits him again. He’s blushing again, Taehyung notes. This is what they do. When Taehyung is nervous, he keeps talking, and when Jimin is nervous, he gets sarcastic and argumentative. They look at each other for a moment, a heavy pause, before Taehyung asks, “This okay?” His fingers are at the waistband of Jimin’s underwear, hesitating.

“If it wasn’t, I would have told you a while ago,” Jimin says, rolling his eyes. Taehyung rolls his right back before leaning down to bite a kiss onto Jimin’s taut stomach, which makes Jimin gasp out a little noise.

Taehyung finally gets to it and starts to push down the band of Jimin’s underwear, heart beating nervously. This is new, overwhelmingly new, and it’s a lot.

Jimin shaves, which doesn’t strike him as very surprising; he does enjoy neatness, after all. When Jimin’s dick bounces up against his stomach, underwear finally pulled down enough to free it, Taehyung just stares for a minute. It probably embarrasses Jimin (a lot of things embarrass Jimin), but he can’t help it. He’s not as big as Taehyung or Seokjin, but then, the rest of him isn’t either. It fits. It’s cute, he thinks. He rarely describes penises as cute, but Jimin’s is cute.

Taehyung gets his head back in the game, finishing pulling Jimin’s underwear off and bringing one of his hands up to the inside of Seokjin’s thigh as he licks his lips and leans in to take Jimin in his mouth. Jimin makes a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan, and Taehyung sees his head tip back as Taehyung finds his bearings. His other hand searches kind of blindly for Seokjin’s dick, and Seokjin takes pity on him and leads him over. Then it’s just a matter of finding a rhythm with his hands and his mouth, which is harder than it sounds. Taehyung’s not the most coordinated person in his right mind, and he feels like a good sixty percent of the blood that’s usually in his brain has left for bigger (ha) and better things.

Jimin is panting and groaning above him, and god, it’s so much. One of Seokjin’s hands is in Taehyung’s hair, and the other is somewhere on Jimin as he leans over to kiss at Jimin’s neck. His knees are starting to get sore from the position, and he pulls off to shift himself a little, looking up at the two of them eagerly.

Jimin’s looking right back at him and he looks like a mess, two hickeys courtesy of Seokjin already blooming close to his collarbones, lip red from biting it. Seokjin pulls back to look down at Taehyung, and he’s smiling.

“You always look so good,” he says quietly, reaching down to push Taehyung’s hair out of his face, and Taehyung feels warm at the compliment.

“You too, hyung,” he says with a smirk. His hand is still wrapped around Seokjin’s dick, and he twists it for good measure.

“Pull his hair, he likes it,” Seokjin tells Jimin in a voice loud enough for Taehyung to hear, and Jimin nods, one of his hands coming up to grasp at the strands close to Taehyung’s scalp and lead him back down.

He gets Jimin back in his mouth, eager, and he groans a little when Jimin tugs at his hair experimentally. “Oh,” Taehyung hears Jimin say. “He does like it, doesn’t he.”

Taehyung stays focused on Jimin for another few moments, going as deep as he can (which is actually pretty deep — Jimin is more manageable than Seokjin) and swallowing, sucking around him and making him moan low and pretty. He can taste precome and figures he should stop before things get out of hand, so he pulls off with a silly-sounding pop.

Jimin’s gaze is stifling as he takes his hand out of Taehyung’s hair, runs it down his face until his thumb brushes across Taehyung’s bottom lip. Taehyung doesn’t know what else to do besides open his mouth and nip at the pad of Jimin’s thumb lightly, which makes Jimin laugh a little.

“Go on,” Jimin tells him, pulling his hand away. “Hyung’s turn.”

“Yes, thanks,” Seokjin laughs, leaning back on his hands and looking down at Taehyung expectantly. “Watching the two of you is too much, did you know?”

“Too much what?” Jimin asks curiously. He sounds remarkably cool-headed for someone as achingly hard as Taehyung knows very well he is.

Taehyung moves to kiss at the inside of Seokjin’s thighs again, but he’s listening to their conversation. “The way you look at each other,” Seokjin says, sighing happily at Taehyung’s mouth moving feather-light against his skin. “It’s really...something.”

“Oh,” Jimin mutters, but he doesn’t say anything else. They slip back into quiet as Taehyung takes Seokjin in his mouth properly. His jaw is starting to hurt and his knees are aching but Seokjin deserves this for a few minutes at least, Taehyung sucking around the head of his dick, hand moving quick over his shaft. Seokjin usually gets breathy when Taehyung goes down on him, gasping and exhaling loud enough for Taehyung to hear, but tonight it’s muffled by Jimin kissing him.

Jimin groans low, and Taehyung pulls off of Seokjin to find that Seokjin has his hand around Jimin’s dick, pumping lazily while they kiss.

“Hey,” Taehyung complains, coming out like a whine. “No one’s touched me at all.” He’s still in his underwear, uncomfortably hard against the fabric, and he squirms.

“Get off the floor, then, Tae,” Jimin tells him, grabbing one of his hands to pull him up onto the bed with them. He falls forward in a mess of limbs, half on top of both of them, and Seokjin groans under his weight.

He rolls off of them with a muttered apology, flipping onto his back further up the bed, and then there are hands on him, Seokjin pulling his briefs down and Jimin running a hand down his side. Seokjin leans down to kiss him, a hand gripping his jaw firmly, and he’s aware of Jimin’s hands wandering down more, wedging between Seokjin and Taehyung to stroke slowly at Taehyung’s dick. And god, it’s so overwhelming having two people all over him like this, so heady to feel like the center of attention. Still, he remembers what he told Seokjin earlier (probably only about fifteen minutes ago, but it feels like a hell of a lot longer), remembers Seokjin agreeing with wide eyes to fuck Jimin, and he wants to make that happen.

He pulls away from Seokjin and looks toward Jimin, enjoying the concentrated look on his face for a second. “Hey,” he says, and Jimin’s hand stops.

“Yeah?” Jimin asks curiously. Seokjin is still leaning above him, arms caged around Taehyung’s shoulders, looking on with interest.

“Get on your back,” Taehyung tells him, and Jimin utters a nearly-inaudible little oh. “You want me or Seokjinnie-hyung to prep you?”

Jimin seems to consider. “I feel like it should be you, since hyung’s going to…” He trails off, cheeks pink, and this strikes Taehyung as an odd time to be embarrassed about things, since his hand is still on Taehyung’s dick.

Taehyung just nods. “Okay,” he agrees easily with a smile. “Hyung, get up.”

Seokjin follows directions, scooting over to grab the lube and hand it to Taehyung. Jimin’s bed is not quite built for three adult men, and it’s a bit of a squeeze when they’re all next to each other. When Jimin flips onto his back, Taehyung moves so he’s lying between Jimin’s legs, looking up at him with a reassuring grin.

“Hi,” Taehyung says again, and Jimin laughs, stomach muscles moving with it.

“Yeah, hi. Get on with it,” Jimin tells him with a smile, looking less nervous.

“Gotcha,” Taehyung replies. He rubs the lube on his fingers until it’s more skin-temperature, nudging Jimin’s legs further apart. The noise he makes when Taehyung gets his first finger in goes straight to Taehyung’s dick, and Seokjin’s too from the look on his face.

Prepping Jimin goes kind of slow — it’s obviously been a while for him, and Taehyung wants him to feel good. As a result there’s a lot of time spent with Jimin whining and clutching at his sheets, grinding down on Taehyung’s fingers a little desperately, Seokjin pressing soothing kisses everywhere he can, Taehyung running a comforting hand along the inside of Jimin’s thigh. It feels like eons before Jimin mutters, “I think I’m good,” and it takes a second for Taehyung to hear him.

Taehyung kisses Jimin’s hipbone lightly, just because he can, before he pulls out slowly, wiping his hand on Jimin’s sheets.

“Gross, Tae,” Jimin complains weakly. Taehyung just shrugs.

“How do you want to…” Seokjin trails off, voice low, glancing between them.

“Can I ride you?” Jimin asks, and Seokjin’s eyes widen.

He nods, biting his lip and pushing his hair back. “Yes. You definitely can.” He lies down on his back, looking like he can’t believe his luck, and Taehyung has trouble not laughing.

Jimin smiles, pretty and blinding even when he’s a little sweaty and messy before rolling over and positioning himself so he’s straddling Seokjin’s lap. They joke in hushed voices as Seokjin rolls a condom on, and Taehyung feels weighed down heavy watching Jimin slick Seokjin up.

Seokjin looks over to him with a smirk. “As good as your dreams?”

“Better,” Taehyung manages, mouth dry, and Seokjin and Jimin both laugh before turning back to each other.

“You good?” Seokjin asks as he tries to line himself up with Jimin, looking up at him from where he’s lying on the bed.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Jimin whispers back, and then he’s sinking down onto Seokjin, legs spread impossibly wide on either side of Seokjin’s hips. He lets out a shaky groan as he lowers himself further, breathing heavy when he pauses.

“Fuck,” Jimin mutters, nearly a growl. Seokjin seems to be rendered speechless, eyes screwed closed and mouth open.

They stay still for a moment, Jimin adjusting, before he pushes himself up and sinks back down again, hair falling in his face. Taehyung is burning up at the sight, at the noises Jimin keeps making, at the hand Seokjin has gripping Jimin’s ass. It’s all too much, and his eyes slip closed for a second when he goes to touch himself at the image in front of him.

“You gotta watch, Tae,” Jimin tells him after a moan, and Taehyung’s eyes snap open to find Jimin smirking down at him.

Taehyung nods, hand still moving on himself. Seokjin is having a tough time from the looks of it, trying to push the pace faster, but Jimin’s in control in this position. Jimin looks good like this, like it comes natural to him to rock himself down in slow circles on Seokjin’s dick. He’s all confident smirks, like he gets when he’s flirting, like he gets onstage. He’s putting on a show, Taehyung realizes, and it’s for him.

“You’re so good, Jiminnie,” Taehyung says, because it’s true and because he wants to see how Jimin reacts.

It’s what he expects: Jimin groans at the words, rocking himself down harder and looking pleased. Taehyung’s seen how Jimin reacts to compliments after his performances, all bashful smiles as he ducks into Taehyung’s neck. Figures that it transfers over a little, that those lines are blurred for him.

“So pretty,” Seokjin mutters, catching on fast. Jimin smiles, goes a little quicker, pace getting a little reckless. Seokjin reaches out for Taehyung’s hand, and he grabs it, running his thumb along Seokjin’s knuckles. Seokjin likes holding hands during sex, likes that intimacy, and Taehyung likes giving it to him.

“Need more, but I can’t…” Jimin pants, apparently unable to get the words out, pausing to look down at Seokjin with frustration on his face. “From up here, I can’t…”

“Get up,” Seokjin tells him, voice low and comforting. “On your back.”

Taehyung makes room on the bed, lets go of Seokjin’s hand for him to reposition himself over Jimin. Seokjin pulls Jimin down the bed by the legs, and Taehyung expects Jimin to wrap his legs around Seokjin’s back, but instead they go up over his shoulders. Unreal.

“Jesus,” Taehyung mutters. It feels slightly pathetic jerking off to the sight of them, but not really in a bad way. They look so good, and when Seokjin leans down to line himself up with Jimin again, he bends Jimin nearly in half, which is apparently fine with Jimin. Seokjin’s pace is fast and hard now, his own whines mixing with Jimin’s moans, and both of them look like they’re losing it a little bit.

Taehyung doesn’t know who he expects to come first, but it ends up being Seokjin, crying out hoarsely as his thrusts get erratic and he stills, breathing heavy. Taehyung’s own hand is moving slow and slick on his dick, keeping the tightness in his belly just barely at bay. He’s drawing it out for himself, but seeing Seokjin’s orgasm doesn’t help. He moves over to run a hand through Seokjin’s hair, Jimin kissing his cheek as he breathes through the last of his orgasm. They handle him gently for a moment, the room gone quiet except for the sound of their breathing, and the air around them is delicate for a moment as Seokjin comes down.

“Wow,” Seokjin mutters, finally pulling out and rolling over. “Wow.”

Jimin laughs a little, but he sounds gone. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Seokjin assures him, leaning over to kiss Jimin deep, lingering there for a moment before he pulls back. “You still need to come, though. Tae, too.”

Seokjin’s never called him Tae before, and Taehyung likes the sound of it. Jimin looks over at him, eyes going down to his hand on his dick before going back up to his face.

“I could...we could?” Jimin suggests, sounding spent.

“Yes,” Taehyung agrees instantly. He’s been thinking about it since Jimin climbed up on Seokjin, what it would feel like to have that gaze fixed on him, Jimin inside of him.

He rolls onto his back in a second, and Seokjin laughs, sounding sated and sleepy from the other side of the bed. “Who’s eager now?” Seokjin asks teasingly.

“Me,” Taehyung says without an ounce of shame. “Come on.”

“He shouldn’t need that much prep,” Seokjin tells Jimin, passing over the lube. “I just fucked him last night.”

“I know,” Jimin says wryly. “We share a wall.”

Seokjin looks vaguely embarrassed at that, but Taehyung doesn’t care much. “Oops,” is all the remorse he can muster, more focused on the way Jimin’s slicking two fingers up. He starts out with two, the slide easy, and Taehyung arches up at the feeling. Jimin’s fingers are short, but it doesn’t matter, it really doesn’t matter. He can only handle a few minutes of it before he’s squirming underneath Jimin, mumbling, “C’mon, c’mon, let’s go.”

“You’re so needy,” Jimin smirks at him.

“He’s desperate,” Seokjin comments in a voice that sounds annoyingly pleased.

Taehyung arches up again when Jimin brushes against his prostate. “Maybe a little,” he pants.

“He gets impatient,” Seokjin says in that same voice, a little smug. “It’s fun to make him wait.”

“Stop talking about me and fuck me already,” Taehyung whines, trying to push himself down further on Jimin’s fingers, but then they’re gone. Taehyung whimpers at the loss.

“Taetae,” Jimin says in a voice that’s lower than usual. “Calm down. I got you.”

And if there’s anything Taehyung believes, it’s that Jimin’s got him. He relaxes a little and Jimin leans down low over him, parting his legs more and moving to kiss him. He pulls away to grab a condom and slick himself up, but then he’s back in front of Taehyung, inches away from his face, and they kiss like there’s no hurry. They’re kissing when Jimin presses against his entrance, sliding in slow. Taehyung bites Jimin’s lip by accident but Jimin just gives a pleased little gasp in response.

Taehyung doesn’t know what magic power Jimin has, but suddenly his urgency is gone, replaced with his brain melting slowly at Jimin’s slow strokes and kisses.

“Damn,” Seokjin mutters from off to the side, and Taehyung’s surprised he hears it through the blood rushing in his ears.

Jimin is fucking good at this, which just figures, and Taehyung is rapidly losing composure. “Faster,” he groans, trying to pull Jimin in by his back, and Jimin smirks but gives in to the demand, hips snapping quicker in a way that’s rude, frankly. Jimin’s all muscle from this angle, so many parts of him flexed, and Taehyung can’t stop staring at him.

“You’re hot,” Taehyung tells him deliriously between groans.

Jimin laughs easily, bringing a hand up to brush Taehyung’s hair back and kiss him again. “You too, babe.”

Jimin usually only calls him babe when he’s drunk, and hearing it now makes something in his stomach swoop. “Come on,” Taeyung urges Jimin, reaching down to pull his ass forward. Seokjin leans over, reaching between them to stroke at Taehyung quick, the way he knows Taehyung likes.

“Getting close,” Jimin says through gritted teeth, leaning down to bury his face in Taehyung’s neck.

Taehyung nods, brings a hand up to the back of Jimin’s head to run through his hair. “Me too.”

Seokjin’s hand picks up speed, and Taehyung clenches as he lets out a low moan. It sets Jimin off moaning too, and they go on like that for another minute until finally, Taehyung’s orgasm hits him hard, making his muscles go tense and his toes curl.

“Fuck,” he cries, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He feels come hit his stomach, probably Jimin’s stomach, and he feels Jimin pick up his pace as Taehyung tenses around him. It’s a matter of seconds before Jimin is following him, both of them panting and groaning through the aftershocks of their orgasms, Jimin laying heavy on top of Taehyung.

“God, that was intense,” Seokjin tells them. He looks tired but pleased, a few hickeys visible on his neck (Jimin) and thighs (Taehyung), and he leans down to kiss Taehyung’s forehead and Jimin’s cheek. “I guess it’s my job to get everyone cleaned up, hm?” He slides off the bed and out of the room, leaving Jimin panting into the crook of Taehyung’s neck, still inside him.

“Intense,” Jimin echoes weakly. “Sums it up nicely.”

Taehyung lets out a low giggle. “You’re so good, Jiminnie-yah,” he says in a sweet voice, bringing a hand to stroke Jimin’s hair, down the back of his neck.

“How long could we have been doing this?” Jimin asks him as he finally pulls out, tying off the condom and tossing it in the trash.

“I don’t know. I think we started at the right time, though,” Taehyung tells him easily, because it’s that simple for him. He doesn’t know if kissing Jimin would have had the same electrifying effect without Seokjin’s eyes, Seokjin’s presence, Seokjin hovering close to them.

“Yeah,” Jimin says with a content little smile. “Love you, Tae.”

“Love you too, Minnie,” Taehyung says, pulling Jimin back down for a kiss. It’s not a romantic I love you, not an “I’m in love with you,” it’s just...them.

Seokjin comes back with a damp towel that he uses to wipe down their stomachs, using the clean side to run across their faces. They’re all boneless and spent, and Seokjin can’t gather the energy to do anything with the towel besides throw it across the room, to Jimin’s disgust.

“We’ll deal with it tomorrow,” Seokjin says with a yawn, crawling under Jimin’s covers.

“Mhm,” Taehyung agrees, unbothered, as he follows suit. “I want to be the middle spoon.”

Jimin and Seokjin humor him, wrapped around both his sides, and it’s nice. Warm, comfortable, safe. They’re his boyfriends, he realizes suddenly, and that feels a little giddy and fun, like he’s younger than he really is. He falls asleep like that, pressed between the two of them, smiling to himself at the novelty of it and the way their hands meet somewhere near Taehyung’s stomach.

In the morning, Taehyung wakes up feeling vaguely sore and with Seokjin curled up to his chest, breathing slow and steady. He smiles to himself at the feeling of it, and he’s content to drift back to sleep until he remembers that Seokjin wasn’t the only one in the bed when they fell asleep. The full events of the evening come rushing back to him, and then Taehyung is overly aware of the empty side of the bed on his left.

He spends a moment deliberating between staying comfortable and warm with a sleepy Seokjin or going out to find Jimin, and eventually decides the search mission is more important. Jimin might be freaking out, is the thing. Sometimes he does that, regrets things and runs away from them; Taehyung is really hoping this isn’t one of them. He rolls out of bed carefully, trying not to disturb Seokjin, but he’s a heavy sleeper, and he isn’t bothered.

Taehyung has the sense to find a pair of underwear (one of Jimin’s, since he can’t find his own) and a sweatshirt (one of his own that Jimin stole) before he pads out of the bedroom in search of one Park Jimin. His search doesn’t extend too far, because after he checks the bathroom, he realizes he’s standing in the kitchen looking in the fridge.

“Morning,” Taehyung calls, voice crackly and rough from sleep. Jimin jumps and turns around with a hand to his chest, startled. His hair’s a mess, he’s wearing his glasses instead of contacts, and he’s in Seokjin’s t-shirt from the night before over a pair of sweatpants, but besides his scare, he looks normal.

“Morning,” Jimin repeats, a smile playing at his lips. Taehyung relaxes a little at that, and Jimin must see it on his face. “What is it?”

“Nothing, just. You were gone this morning. I was a little concerned,” Taehyung tells him. He crosses the kitchen and sits down at the table, looking over at where Jimin is pulling ingredients out of the fridge.

“Oh,” Jimin says, catching his drift. “No, I’m fine. I’m making pancakes.”

“Yes!” Taehyung exclaims happily. “I love Saturdays.”

“How are you?” Jimin asks him with a little more weight than he would if they were under...normal circumstances. Circumstances where they hadn’t just slept together, maybe.

“I’m good,” Taehyung says honestly, smiling at Jimin.

“Yeah,” Jimin laughs.

Taehyung stands up and walks over, grabbing pancake mix down from a shelf and setting it on the counter before he turns to Jimin fully. “It should feel more weird than it does, right?” He asks, looking down at Jimin’s sex-and-sleep-mussed hair and his puffy morning face.

“Probably, yeah,” Jimin answers, still smiling a little.

“Jungkookie says that we make everything that sounds like a bad idea work,” Taehyung tells him, and that makes Jimin smile bigger.

“Maybe he has a point.”

Jimin’s looking up at him kind of shy, and Taehyung’s brain keeps repeating cute cute cute like a mantra, so he leans down and kisses Jimin softly. It’s the first time it’s happened without Seokjin’s presence, and Taehyung’s pleased to learn that it still feels great. Jimin is so soft and sweet, Taehyung thinks, standing on his tiptoes in his sweatpants.

“Can I help with the pancakes?” Taehyung asks when they split apart, still enjoying the rush he got from the kiss. It’s only been a few months with Seokjin but Taehyung’s already forgotten how fun it is to kiss someone new, liking someone new, and it’s amplified by the fact that it’s Jimin.

“You can cut up strawberries,” Jimin tells him decisively, patting his butt after he salutes in acknowledgment.

It’s quiet, just the sound of Jimin humming some pop song and the rhythmic thunk, thunk of Taehyung cutting strawberries. “Seokjinnie’s going to wake up alone,” Jimin notes at some point, and Taehyung hums in agreement.

“But he’ll wake up to pancakes, so,” Taehyung shrugs. “Two cute boys making him pancakes, at that.”

“One cute boy making him pancakes, one cutting strawberries,” Jimin corrects, smirking.

“You’re so petty,” Taehyung complains with a pout.

They’re bickering back and forth when Seokjin emerges, looking rumpled and sleepy in just his pink underwear from the night before. “You left me.”

Taehyung and Jimin stop, looking over at him, before Taehyung says, “We’re making pancakes.”

“It’s early and I’m cold,” Seokjin complains, shuffling over to attach himself to Taehyung’s back. “Why aren’t we in bed?”

“Because pancakes?” Taehyung tries again.

“Go back to bed, hyung, we’ll bring you breakfast,” Jimin says sweetly, coming over to run a hand down Seokjin’s back.

“I don’t want to go to bed alone,” Seokjin argues, scrunching his nose. “Come with me.”

“I would, but I don’t trust Taehyung with the pancakes,” Jimin mutters close to Seokjin’s ear, and Taehyung pouts, making Jimin laugh.

Seokjin nods. “You’re right. I’m going back to bed.”

He shuffles back out of the kitchen and off to cocoon himself in Jimin’s bed, and Taehyung and Jimin stare after him for a minute.

“He’s cute,” Jimin decides fondly, going back to stirring his batter.

“In the morning especially,” Taehyung agrees.

There’s a moment of quiet, and then Jimin says, “I’m glad you talked me into this, Taehyung.”

“See? Everything I try to talk you into is good. You just need to open your heart to it,” Taehyung says seriously, turning to catch Jimin’s eye as he says it.

Jimin rolls his eyes. “No, you’re irresponsible and a moron, and sixty percent of your ideas would get someone hurt. This one was good, though.”

Taehyung will take it. It’s rare Jimin calls even one of his ideas good. “I’m out of strawberries to cut,” he informs Jimin, setting his knife down.

“Then go comfort Seokjin, he seems to be having a rough time,” Jimin says with a crooked smile.

Taehyung laughs quietly, going over and draping himself over Jimin’s back and nuzzling into the dip of his shoulder. “He’s a baby in the morning, all he wants to do is stay in bed and whine.”

“More reason to comfort him,” Jimin says, but he tilts his head so Taehyung has better access to kiss his neck.

Taehyung presses a few kisses along the side of his throat and Jimin sighs happily. “You’re right, he needs me.”

“Mhm,” Jimin agrees, but he turns his body to face Taehyung and leans up to kiss him, his arms slung around the back of Taehyung’s neck and pulling him down. Seokjin was right, the night before: Jimin is a good kisser. It’s hard to pull away from the insistent press of Jimin’s lips, but he does, and they smile at each other for a moment.

“Your pancake is burning,” Taehyung says quietly, and Jimin drops out of the nice moment in an instant, face falling as he mutters, “Shit!”

Taehyung laughs as he pads out of the kitchen, leaving Jimin to salvage the pancake, and walks down the hallway to Jimin’s room.

“Hi, hyung,” Taehyung sing-songs when he walks in, clambering up onto the bed and into Seokjin’s space.

Seokjin makes a vague noise of agreement, wrapping his arms around Taehyung and pulling him in close. “Your feet are cold.”

“Sorry,” Taehyung says, but he rubs them more purposefully against Seokjin’s shins.

“Yah,” Seokjin complains, and Taehyung giggles and leans down to kiss whatever’s nearest, which happens to be Seokjin’s chest. “I don’t know how you two are so energetic. I’m exhausted.”

“Because you’re old, hyung,” Taehyung says simply.

“Yah!” Seokjin punches him weakly on the arm, but he’s laughing.

“So sad, you need a whole day to recuperate from sex —”

“I do not,” Seokjin argues, pushing him over in the bed and straddling him. “You want me to prove it, you brat?”

“Maybe, yeah,” Taehyung says through a laugh. “What if you fall asleep on me, though?”

“You’re the worst,” Seokjin accuses, but he still kisses Taehyung, warm and slow, just like he always does in the morning. Sometimes it escalates, sometimes they really do go for a round of sleepy morning sex, but it’s not going to happen this morning, because Jimin laughs from the doorway.

“That was quick,” he says, and Seokjin rolls off of Taehyung to sit up and smile at Jimin. He’s carrying two plates with pancakes, strawberries and whipped cream, because he’s a real-life angel.

“I love you,” Taehyung says with a groan, scooting across the bed to grab one of the plates.

Jimin laughs, easily flattered, mutters, “That’s what they all say.” He’s so cute in his glasses and pajamas, carrying breakfast, that Taehyung can’t blame himself for going for a quick kiss.

“You’re going to drop those, Tae,” Seokjin says, moving to take them out of Taehyung’s hand. “You can’t multitask like that.”

Taehyung can’t fight with him on that one, and he backs up from a pink-cheeked Jimin with a smile. “Come on, sit down, let’s eat.”

“We’re only eating on my bed because I need to change the sheets anyway,” Jimin tells him with a pointed look, like he’s making clear that Taehyung should not make a habit out of this.

“Right, of course,” Taehyung agrees with a nod. Jimin has just made it Taehyung’s life mission to eat on this bed as often as possible.

“I like your glasses,” Seokjin tells Jimin with a smile, reaching to brush the hair off his forehead. “They’re cute.”

Jimin looks a little embarrassed, glancing down at his plate. “Oh, thanks. I don’t really like wearing them.”

“You should,” Seokjin says simply, going back to eating his pancake and looking pleased at how bashful Jimin looks.

Later, Seokjin kisses a smudge of whipped cream off of Jimin’s lip and Taehyung learns that his mouth tastes like strawberries and Jimin’s glasses get placed carefully on the nightstand. But for right now, they all smile at each other over pancakes, more comfortable than maybe they should be for something so new.

Taehyung has been patient. It’s been nearly a week, a week, since Taehyung made good on their deal, and besides texting Jungkook a quick “mission accomplished,” (to which Jungkook replied with a question mark, and then 10 minutes later a disgusted emoji) he hasn’t brought it up since.

Tonight, as the seven of them lounge around Namjoon’s apartment in various states of intoxication (most of them erring more toward “mild,” because they’re adults and too tired to get drunk, but someone misjudged how much alcohol to put in Namjoon’s drink and he’s a little ahead of them), Taehyung is very aware of Jungkook’s end of the deal. He’s aware because Jungkook keeps hovering close to Yoongi, the two of them smiling at each other more than Yoongi usually smiles at anyone. Taehyung narrows his eyes suspiciously.

It’s Christmas, and Taehyung would kind of like to be on a date with his newly acquired boyfriends, but Namjoon got on everyone’s ass about how they never see each other anymore and the holidays were about togetherness — his usually well-meaning nonsense that everyone had a hard time saying no to. Hoseok has been at a few group gatherings before, but he’s here in full force now, chatting with Jimin across the room. Namjoon is a little too drunk and keeps putting his arm around Jungkook’s shoulder, probably trying to impart wisdom, and Jungkook looks like he’s absorbing it very seriously. Seokjin looks more skeptical, snorting at Namjoon every few minutes.

“So,” Yoongi says conversationally, sipping at his beer. “I hear things have escalated.”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow. “In what way?”

Yoongi gestures vaguely over where Jimin and Hoseok are talking. Maybe Yoongi has had too much to drink, too. “Ah. Yeah.”

Taehyung braces himself for whatever too-honest-but-probably-true Yoongi has up his sleeve. Instead, all he gets is Yoongi humming like he’s thinking, and then, “Interesting.”

Taehyung blinks. “That’s it?”

“Well,” Yoongi says slowly, like he’s trying to come up with an argument too. “Yeah. That’s it.”

“No...judgmental comment?” Taehyung asks. “No words of advice?”

“I don’t know. Nothing you do surprises me anymore, and you always land on your feet, like a really stupid cat.” Yoongi finishes his beer at that, scoots closer and wraps an arm around Taehyung in a half-hug.

“Oh,” Taehyung says quietly. “Thanks, hyung. I think.”

“No, it was an insult, but you’re welcome,” Yoongi tells him with a nod of his head. “You told your sister yet?”

“Why is everyone so concerned with my sister lately?” Taehyung demands, furrowing his eyebrows. Yoongi at least has an excuse, since he knows Taehyung’s sister fairly well. He used to babysit her, in that weird in-between part of Taehyung’s life when he was too old to need a babysitter but too young to babysit his own sister.

“She used to have a crush on Jimin,” Yoongi tells him with a smirk, looking pleased to divulge the information. “She was always mad that you weren’t dating him but you obviously wanted to. Tortured her for like two years with it.”

“What?” Taehyung asks, letting out a surprised laugh. “Shit, that’s good. Serves her right.”

“For what?” Yoongi asks with a snort.

Taehyung thinks. “I don’t know. Something. All her doctor gloating.” He’s quiet for a minute before all of Yoongi’s words make it to his brain. “I didn’t want to date him, either.”

Yoongi lets that sit for a moment before he asks, “Really?” It’s not mocking or sarcastic, just a question, which Taehyung kind of appreciates.

“Yeah. I don’t know.” He shrugs, because he doesn’t know. Everyone seems to want to hear that he’s been pining away for years, but he just can’t say he has.

Yoongi shrugs back at him. “Weird. You’d think two people as head-over-ass obsessed with each other as you and Jimin would at least have the decency to realize their feelings.”

Taehyung huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “We were just us. If people thought it was...I don’t know, whatever they thought, then that’s what they thought. We were fine, though.”

“And now?” Yoongi asks curiously.

“We’re still fine. I don’t know.” Taehyung shakes his head again. He can’t explain it right.

Yoongi pauses, then looks at him, his face open and honest. “That’s nice. That you two never have to question anything.” He looks down at the ground for a second, and Taehyung feels a little sad for him, or something. Not pity, because he’s Min Yoongi, and his life is five hundred times more put together than even one hour of Taehyung’s existence, but. A little sadness.

“What do you have to question, hyung?” Taehyung asks him quietly. They’re weirdly secluded at the moment, everyone else occupied, and maybe Taehyung doesn’t need to pester Jungkook for information after all. Maybe he just needs to listen to Yoongi talk.

“No, nothing.” Yoongi shakes his head. “I’m being dramatic. I’ve never had that, that’s all. I question everything, all the time,” Yoongi says with a little laugh.

Taehyung considers. He decides to take a chance, put his neck out there a little. “Jungkook’s liked you for a really long time, hyung.”

Yoongi turns to him sharply, eyebrows raised. “Okay,” he gets out, like he’s unsure if he wants to react or not.

“Is it?” Taehyung asks with a smirk.

Yoongi looks like he’s trying to scowl, but he’s blushing a little, and the result is funny. “I...shut up, Taehyung-ah.”

They’re both quiet for a minute, Yoongi tipping his beer back even though there’s nothing left in it, like he needs to occupy himself with something. He’s shifting his weight between his feet, and he only does that when he’s nervous or guilty.

“Hyung, spit it out,” Taehyung tells him with a grin, as kind as he can make it.

Yoongi sighs out a breath. Sometimes he gets like this when he keeps things from Taehyung; he’s a private person, but they’ve known each other since Taehyung’s first day at their shared elementary school in Daegu, and Taehyung knows almost everything about him. In Taehyung’s first year at university, Yoongi got like this before he told Taehyung he was dating boys, almost the exact same kind of nervous energy.

“We’ve been seeing each other,” Yoongi finally says, the expression on his face like someone just vomited on his shoes.

“Seeing each other,” Taehyung repeats. “Like...sex?”

Yoongi goes more pink, hiding his face in his hands. “No, like...dating.”

“Dating?” Taehyung asks loudly, causing Yoongi to shush him in a panic, but Taehyung is surprised he didn’t literally scream it in the first place.

All Yoongi says is a strangled, “Yes.” Yoongi’s in physical pain from this, Taehyung knows, but he’s losing it.

“For how long?” Taehyung asks, fascinated.

Yoongi sighs. He won’t meet Taehyung’s eyes. “A couple months.”

“Months? Months!” Taehyung nearly shrieks. “For months and neither of you told anyone, this is —”

“Stop, stop,” Yoongi groans. “I’m sorry, alright? We were just trying to feel it out, I guess. Neither of us are any good at this shit, and we didn’t want any more...pressure, or something.”

“What exactly aren’t you good at?” Taehyung asks. He’s still not over his shock, but he doesn’t want to scare Yoongi off, since he only gets talking like this once every few months.

“I don’t know...feeling things?” Yoongi ventures with a somewhat disgusted look on his face.

“Aw, hyung,” Taehyung mumbles, leaning in close to squish his cheek against Yoongi’s head. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“Fine, bad at being transparent about the things I feel,” Yoongi grumbles. “So we’ve been dating and we didn’t tell anyone but now it’s been too long, and we don’t know how to tell everyone.”

“Jungkook was going to tell me anyway, we made a bet,” Taehyung informs him.

Yoongi looks at him. “I do not want to know the particulars of that bet.”

“Jungkook told me that if I got Jimin’s dick —”

“I do not want to know the particulars, Taehyung,” Yoongi repeats forcefully.

“Look, do you want me to solve this problem for you?” Taehyung asks.

“No, Taehyung, do not —”

“I’m taking this as approval.”

“Do not fucking take it as approval, I swear to god —”

“Hey!” Taehyung calls across the room. Everyone turns to look at him questioningly as Yoongi attempts to tackle him, but it’s a really weak attempt and he mostly just ends up climbing Taehyung a little. “Announcement!”

“Kim Taehyung, I will kill you, this is the opposite —” Yoongi is hissing into his ear, heavy as he clings to Taehyung’s arm. Across the room, Jungkook seems to have realized what’s happening, because his eyes go comically wide.

“Yoongi-hyung and Jungkookie are dating,” Taehyung tells the room at large. Yoongi whines, but goes silent, sliding back down to the floor.

“Are you dating them too?” Namjoon asks, eyebrow raised, and Seokjin hits him on the head.

“No, I’m maxed out at two,” Taehyung answers.

“Okay,” Namjoon says.

The room at large just kind of shrugs and gives Jungkook and Yoongi a thumbs-up, and the two of them appear to be coming down from their panic. “See? Everything’s fine,” Taehyung tells Yoongi, patting his back. “You think too much, hyung.”

“You don’t think nearly enough,” Yoongi grumbles with a pout before walking off to Jungkook, who puts an arm around his waist and seems to be happy to do so. It’s admittedly pretty cute.

Celebrating his good work, Taehyung takes a seat on the couch with his mostly-full drink. It’s barely even alcoholic, mostly just juice, which Taehyung appreciates and thanks Seokjin for, since he’s the one who made it.

“Hey,” Seokjin says before flopping down next to him on the couch.

“Hey yourself,” Taehyung says back with a smile. Seokjin looks nice tonight, wearing a big cozy-looking sweater, but Taehyung can’t think of a single time he hasn’t looked nice.

“Merry Christmas,” Seokjin mutters in a little sing-song, leaning his head on Taehyung’s shoulder.

“Mhm,” Taehyung agrees, hand finding Seokjin’s thigh and patting it. “Merry Christmas.” Jimin’s still across the room, talking to Namjoon now, and Taehyung watches him laugh at something Namjoon says. He must be able to feel Taehyung’s gaze on him (and maybe Seokjin’s, too), because Jimin turns and catches his eye. He makes a scrunchy little face, sticking his tongue out to tease Taehyung, and it’s cute. Taehyung smiles at him, and Jimin smiles back.

It’s a good night. Namjoon gets too drunk and almost cries about friendship and Hoseok can’t stop laughing long enough to comfort him, which makes Namjoon actually cry.

(“Oh, babe, no,” Hoseok whines, still trying to hold back laughter. “I’m sorry. I love you. Don’t cry. Your speech was good. Keep talking.”

“This is a real glimpse into your future,” Yoongi tells him over the brim of his drink, unconcerned with Namjoon’s emotional state. “Can you imagine the wedding?”

Hoseok blushes and doesn’t acknowledge him.)

Jungkook and Yoongi actually kiss once before everyone leaves, small and quick, but Taehyung catches it and gapes at them.

“Tae, stop. Let them be,” Jimin tells him, nudging him with a hip. “They’re cute.”

They are kind of cute, Taehyung has to agree; Jungkook’s so much taller and broader and Yoongi looks at him so soft. Still, it’s weird, and worth staring at. “Months. They didn’t tell us for months.”

Jimin just rolls his eyes, laughing at him.

Everyone hugs goodbye before they leave, all a little more affectionate from the alcohol than they would be normally, but not by much. Taehyung feels warm from Namjoon’s stupid speech and from how much he cares for his stupid friends, and he hugs them all tight enough that they complain.

“That was nice,” Seokjin says when they leave, sitting in the passenger seat of the car that Taehyung has been elected to drive, since he only had half a drink all night. “You guys are nice.”

“We’re a good bunch, yeah,” Jimin agrees happily from the backseat.

It’s a short drive to Seokjin and Hoseok’s apartment (nicer, bigger, and more stocked with food than Taehyung and Jimin’s), but during the ride Jimin and Seokjin bicker over what radio station to put on, Seokjin throwing a little fit and claiming he should pick because it’s his car and he’s the oldest.

It’s nice background noise, if Taehyung’s honest, and when Seokjin catches him smiling he asks, “What?”

Taehyung shrugs. “Nothing. I just like you.” He glances in the rear-view mirror for a second to include Jimin in that statement, too.

Seokjin snorts, but he looks fond.

“Like him for something better than this, it’s not cute,” Jimin complains.

“I’m always cute,” Seokjin argues.

“You’re weak, Taehyung,” Jimin says when he sees that Taehyung is smiling again. “You’re a sap.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Taehyung shrugs.

Jimin makes a face. “Well it’s not fun if you agree. Now I just feel bad.”

“He’s sweet,” Seokjin says, grinning over at Taehyung.

“Yeah,” Jimin agrees with a sigh. “He is.”

It’s Christmas and Seokjin’s apartment is decorated with lots of string lights, and kissing Seokjin and Jimin feels warm and good, and Taehyung is happy. He’s happy when the two of them smile against his skin and when Seokjin laughs in the middle of sex and makes them all stop for a minute, because his laugh makes everyone else laugh. He’s happy to make hot chocolate late at night, digging marshmallows out of the back of a cabinet somewhere, waiting in the dark for milk to warm up with Jimin, who humored him when he followed him into the kitchen with their hands clasped together.

When Taehyung wakes up the next day, it’s not Christmas anymore, but Jimin’s leg is on top of him and Seokjin’s drooling on his chest and it’s messy and weird and maybe a little gross and Taehyung is so, so happy.