let's keep going for a long time (i mean forever)
Authour: barkingspiders
Retrieved from: Ao3
Words: 1304
Ship: Jimin Taehyung
Summary:
Jimin thinks about his man a lot when he wakes up on a hot ass day to find Taehyung glued to his leg full of morning grumps and fond memories.
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Jimin wakes with a start to a sweat-stained back and sticky sheets clinging to his skin. The first thought that registered was that he felt like he was on Thailand tour again, the air literally drinkable with its moisture.
He internally curses at forgetting to turn down the thermostat the night before, but even if he did, the air would’ve remained as hazy with humidity. The ceiling fan overhead whirred with meek efforts to cool them down, and Jimin flicks a concerned glance at Taehyung sleeping next to him. Taehyung’s forehead shone with a slick sheen of sweat. His arms held an iron grip around Jimin’s thigh and Taehyung had used his famed abs as a pillow last night. The comforter Jimin purposely tucked low on his stomach to give the boy breathing room still cocooned Taehyung so only a dark brow and tuffs of bedhead could be seen. The position didn’t appear in the least comfortable but Taehyung had insisted in his sleep talks that it was fine, that it was Jimin’s fault after all for not letting his tummy develope some cute squish.
This reminiscing takes him back to highschool with Taehyung, the first discoveries of insecurities and cracks and nicks to his self-esteem. Jimin had firmly believed he was overweight, and although Seokjin had ultimately lifted his overly strict diet, he will never forget Taehyung splitting his lunch portions in half when Jimin refused to buy his own.
“Eat some, for me please,” Taehyung had joined him on his previously empty, lone wolf lunch table. “You need to eat, Jiminie. You have dance class after this, you need your energy.”
So he let himself be fed, relishing in Taehyung’s right hand rubbing comforting circles on his inner wrist while his left hand shoved sticky rice into his pouting mouth. Although Jimin had chewed with mechanical reluctance back then, the way Taehyung took a tissue and wiped his upper lip in an unlikely soft doting manner made him hope that up till today he was able to return the favor tenfold.
And he might have, if Jimin wasn’t too humble to give credit when credit was due. It was a fair trade, Taehyung defending him from uptight bullies and Jimin helping him with dance in trainee days. Somewhere along the first anniversary of Bangtan did Jimin get KOed with the epiphany that perhaps he liked Taehyung more than a friend, all his 4D quirkiness and deep tenor voice. His worst fears were confirmed when Jimin had reached a healthy weight and Taehyung had embraced his torso in a completely smitten way and murmured words into his sweater,
“I’m so proud of you.” The trickle of emotion and avoidance of eye contact strikes a chord in him.
Not long after, Taehyung is pulling his hands away from his belly when Jimin is harshly scrutinizing himself in the mirror. “I’m so short,” he’d admitted.
“But the perfect size for me.” In more ways than one, they later found.
