10.05 a.m.
Authour: lithiccrisps
Retrieved from: Ao3
Words: 854
Ship:Jimin×Taehyung
Summary:
Sunday mornings are Jimin's favourite. No alarm clocks, no rushing, more rest, more Taehyung.
The rain makes everything that much better.
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Jimin’s eyelids flutter open slowly. His skin is covered with goose bumps. Maybe it had something to do with how his covers had somehow detached from his body during the night.
On Sunday mornings, he prefers to wake up according to his body clock instead of the continuous beeping of his alarm clock placed on his bedside table. Speaking of alarm clocks, he looks to his left. 10:05 a.m. Still too early, he thinks as the low rumble of thunder fills the room. He sits up, stretches and walks over to his bedroom window, bare feet cold as he steps lightly on the wooden flooring. The sky is gloomy, how nice it is to have rain as a present on a Sunday morning. He opens up the windows, wanting to go back to bed with the wind brushing against his back and the sound of raindrops.
Jimin almost forgets that he shares his bed with another person. How wouldn’t he if he always sleeps with his knees brought up to his chest and the blanket brought up to his shoulders, hiding himself from the idea of ‘waking up’?
That’s where my covers went, Jimin thinks.
Jimin gets back into bed, facing Taehyung, a small smile creeping onto his face. As the breeze blows lightly, his eyelashes flutter like the wings of the butterflies in the dandelion meadow they went to last Sunday, talking over egg sandwiches and cold lemonade. Jimin had dreamt of the meadow, and he couldn’t stop himself from taking Taehyung there.
I really shouldn’t wake him, thinks Jimin.
But how can I stop myself from reaching out to touch him?
Failing to stop himself, his fingers tread lightly through lovers brown tousled hair. Dark brown, like the colour of his eyes, the colour water turns into as you drop a tea bag into it. Is that why Jimin loves drinking tea so much?
Taehyung shifts a little, and stifles a yawn.
“G’morning,” he groans softly, realizing that one of the reasons why he loves Sunday mornings is because he gets to wake up to the feeling of Jimin’s fingers treading through his hair, instead of the continuous beeping of the alarm clock they share.
Taehyung coughs. “Sorry,” he says, his voice a little rough.
Jimin sighs, kissing his forehead, “Be right back,” he smiles.
Taehyung mumbles something under his breath, something that sounds like where are you going?
Padding over to the kitchen, Jimin opens the shelf and takes out two mugs, then two tea bags, then a lemon. He smiles as he drops the tea bags into the hot water and doesn’t forget to add some lemon to the bright yellow mug. He then walks back to the bedroom to see Taehyung already sitting up, enjoying the breeze as it makes her hair move, like ocean waves in Busan.
“You made me tea,” Taehyung says with a soft smile.
Jimin hops into bed and gives Taehyung the bright yellow mug to drink from, while he sips on the bright green mug with the cat on it. “Hey, you’re drinking from my mug,” Taehyung pouts. Jimin smiles teasingly.
Just tasting your kisses, Jimin thinks as the image of Taehyung’s lips touching the mug in his hands pops into his mind.
As they sit on the bed, raindrops lightly falling outside their flat window, Jimin’s mind wanders. Looking at the raindrops, he thinks of his home in Busan, is it raining there too?
He can’t help but feel a little homesick, Seoul is a big city. Then, he glances over at Taehyung, hair still waving due to the breeze, mug in hand, adjusting his glasses. Jimin lean’s his head on Taehyung’s shoulder, feels like home, he thinks.
“You okay?” Taehyung asks.
“Just love you,” he then adds with a giggle, “but your breath kinda stinks.”
Taehyung eyes Jimin and all of a sudden his face is getting smothered by something white and soft. “You stink,” Taehyung grunts.
Jimin attacks back, locking Taehyung’s arms above his head and softly presses kisses to his eyelids. When Jimin’s fingers move to tickle Taehyung’s sides, Taehyung doubles over and cries out in agony, shaping Jimin’s eyes into small crescents.
The rain is falling a little harder now, making the air nice and cool. The panting slows down and Taehyung yawns again.
“Let’s go back to sleep,” he pleads.
They end up lying down within seconds, and Jimin realizes that they’re bodies were perfectly moulded for each other.
“Sleep well,” Jimin whispers, and Taehyung replies with a hum.
Three more shots of thunder and Jimin can tell Taehyung has already drifted off. His breathing has evened out and he can feel his shoulders slowly sagging up and down. He then let’s himself drift off too, his last thought being about how lucky it is to have Taehyung by his side, even if he steals the covers most of the time.
This time, he dreams of Taehyung on a rainy Sunday morning instead of flowery meadows, knowing that he’d rather stare at his eyelashes and think about the colour of his eyes than butterflies and dandelions.
