ONESHOTS

jelly legs ☆ pjm

The words 'subtle' and 'Park Jimin' do not belong in a sentence together, unless it's to declare just how overwhelmingly unsubtle he is.

It's funny, because he thinks the looks that he casts your way are 'okay'.

He thinks that no one will know.

He thinks that Yoongi hasn't noticed the way he laughs a little bit harder than anyone else when you make a joke, and that Namjoon hasn't noticed his lingering gaze whenever you leave a room.

Y'see, Jimin thinks he's subtle.

But Jimin also thinks that it's okay to dip sweet pickles into sriracha, and anyone with a right mind (and working tastebuds) knows that it is absolutely not okay.

"What?" He grins when he catches the way your mouth is resting ajar, brows contorted in horror. He's doing it again; combining the foods of heathens. You swear the thought alone makes you wanna throw up your whole entire digestive system. "Shit's delicious."

The way he smiles, all smug and proud, it's like you've caught him seconds away from winning a chess match (which you both know he never would, because the entire thing confuses the fuck out of him, no matter how many times you've tried to explain that the Queen is the most powerful piece on the board).

Lights reflect in his eyes, blues and pinks of the jellyfish documentary the pair of you are watching illuminating them. He's looking at you all pretty and goofy; ethereal in the way that his eyes embody your favourite animal. He's heaven-sent, you're sure.

"Lord helps whoever ends up blowing you," you scoff, face feigning disgust.

You're not that good at subtle, either.

"That's not how it works," he counters, to which you raise a brow and question how he'd know. He pauses; looks at the pickle he's holding in front of his mouth - that he was just seconds away from biting into - and puts it right back down. "I just do. It's a guy thing."

"Such a child," you say with a roll of your eyes and head for the kitchen, where the rest of the boys are hanging.

You ignore Jimin as he calls for you to come back, knowing that he'll be pouting like a little puppy until you return. The documentary you're watching is still rolling, and you're only going to get a drink, but it's much more fun to let him think that you've ditched him for the others.

He gets a little jealous - always comes to find you within a minute or two - and it lets you play into the fantasy that maybe it's because he's a little bit scared to lose you.

Funny little thing, fantasies are. Curious how they're all yours, dreamt up in your head and locked away behind several hundred doors never to be discovered by anyone else - and yet Jimin has a borderline identical fantasy running through his; the one where you're with the boys and all you can think about is coming back to him.

It's fitting that you see him on your way back, you heading to the snug where the television is, him to the kitchen, both in search of one another.

"You're missing the best part," he tells you, all matter-of-a-fact, and as if he's doing you a favour - not himself.

"Did you press pause?" You quiz.

He shrugs. The answer is no, because he was too consumed with thoughts of you.

"Might have to rewind," he admits.

And then you shrug. "It's cool. We've got all the time in the world."

It's said so casually that you think you've actually gotten away with it; that for once you were subtle about your intentions and where you see Jimin fitting into your life.

To him, perhaps you were subtle. Perhaps he'll toss and turn all night thinking about it, and what those words could have meant.

But to the boys who overheard you from the kitchen - and who also proceeded to exchange bemused glances, raised brows and lopsided smiles - you couldn't have been less subtle if you tried.

"When do you think they'll realise?" Jungkook asks, only after he's convinced neither of you will hear. He doesn't want to burst your bubble.

"Sooner rather than later, I beg," Yoongi groans, chucking the leftover ice out from his americano into the sink.

If he has to watch any more awkward flirting, he thinks he'll have to write Jimin a few lines about jellyfish for the next album, maybe make up some pun about jelly legs, and be done with it. If the kid can't declare his feelings, then Yoongi will have no other option but to give him a gentle nudge. Or throw him off the cliff entirely. One of the two.

"Manifest it, Minstradamus," Namjoon ribs. The boys laugh, and it dissolves into mindless chatter about the upcoming tour schedule.

It's a conversation that will reoccur for months, and they all know it.

Come the next album cycle, though, Yoongi will be surprised when Jimin presents an idea for a melody. Tells Yoongi that it would sound best in the second half of the album, snug between the love songs Yoongi has penned for his own fruitless endeavours.

He'll be even more surprised when he looks through Jimin's notes, dappled in delicate drawings of jellyfish and a few rhymes that he didn't think were good enough to make it into a song. Yoongi will disagree, and stare at them for so long that Jimin begins to feel un easy with the weight of his unspoken confession.

"I think I love her," Jimin will say, pacing the studio, raking his stress filled fingers through his hair. "Like really fucking love her, Yoongs."

And all Yoongi will do is smile, and recline back into his chair. "What Yoongi wants..."