Decalcomania

The moment Jungkook realised he was in love had felt like a bomb going off.

Loud—deafeningly loud—the world shifting and tilting beneath his feet until he'd had to grab onto the nearest surface just to steady himself.

There had been no obvious catalyst, nothing Jimin had said or done to elicit the earth shattering realisation. In fact, he'd seen him do the same thing hundreds of times, thousands maybe.

Sitting on the barstool in the kitchen, bare faced and crumpled from sleep as he flicked through his phone. Doom scrolling with one hand while he slurped noodles into his mouth with the other.

But there had been a moment. A single instant when Jimin had bent his head to reveal a slope of vulnerable pale skin at the nape of his neck, the soft kiss of a beauty mole, that had caused something inexplicable to move through Jungkook.

Something final and life-changing.

The closest he could get to describing it was a fierce and crushing need to protect. As though should anything dare harm the person perched on that stool in plaid pyjama bottoms and a long sleeved t-shirt with the words 'Be a good human' on the back, then Jungkook would destroy that thing. Crush it to nonexistence. He loved the others deeply, far more than friends and closer even than brothers, but deep down he knew it was different with Jimin. That probably, in some way, it always had been.

In that moment, he saw it all so clearly, as though a haze had lifted from the world and it would never look the same again. It prickled over him, a hot peeling sensation that started at the top of his head and rippled down over his entire body. A loud powerful thing, but also soft and tender, so beautiful in fact that he'd felt the prick of tears at his eyes from the sensation of it.

If Jimin were to have lifted his head then, Jungkook was sure he'd have seen it in his eyes.

Then Taehyung strode in.

He stopped behind Jimin, crowding over him to look down at whatever had captured Jimin's quiet attention. Close, always so close. Envy thrummed inside him. He had experienced this brand of envy before; whenever Jimin chose Tae to flop himself next to on the couch, or share a room with on tour, or shower with after practice.

But this Jungkook had always attributed to his own singular neediness. His own resentment at being the baby. At being last. Tae and Jimin had always been this way; just as Seokjin and Yoongi would gravitate toward each other, and Hobi and Namjoon would do the same. It left little room for Jungkook.

But he watched them now with an enriched jealousy, more vivid, new. He loved Taehyung more than most people; he was hard not to love. Confident and gentle, with a calm manner that everyone adored, he was one of his best friends. He didn't like this unfamiliar sensation taking up space inside him now.

"Look at Hobi's face," Tae remarked with a deep chuckle. "He always looks so happy."

"Look at my face, I always look so miserable," Jimin said, laughing.

Tae made a soft noise of disagreement. "You don't look miserable. Jungkook-ah, come and see. Tell him he doesn't look miserable." Taehyung moved to pull out a barstool, sliding his tall body onto it gracefully.

"Jungkookie looks so cute, ahhhh look at him!" Jimin laughed brightly, looking up at him with a smile. The direct light of Jimin's attention on him then had startled him. His mind still reeling; strange and slow, his equilibrium not quite re-entered. He crossed the kitchen to peer across the counter at the screen. It's the interview they did for an online fashion magazine a week or so ago. His eyes glance over the screen landing on Jimin, as he now realises they always do when he's looking at new shots, or the new MV, or the latest episode of the show.