on the borderline — 05 | pjm. (m)
Park Jimin has been your buoy, your anchor and the ship of sanity that guides you to shore amid storms of self-doubt, nearly all your life; as have you been his. That is not to say nothing has ever brewed beneath the surface of platonic friendship, or that the two of you have never been victims to mistiming. Regardless, you would never risk the friendship you have with him now for anything. Even if you have to hurt him – or even yourself – in the process.
pairing: jimin x reader
rating: m (18+)
genre: angst | drama | friends to lovers!au
word count: 7.6 k
— warnings: swearing + repeated mention & description of sex (some gets detailed and explicit, hence the rating!) + mention of a past toxic relationship + perhaps a present toxic relationship? + the worst kind of emotional constipation + misunderstandings + lies and pretense +one-sided feelings + reader is a bigger mess + jimin is a mess too :/
— note: HAPPY NEW YEAR 2025, PEOPLE! <3 it was excruciating getting back into this one but it was also kinda therapeutic bec real life has been whooping my ass :( i have begun writing the sixth part too bec i truly forreal wish to complete this series without taking another year helP!
ps. the rating, genre and warnings mentioned above pertain to this chapter, only.
main masterlist | taglist | feedback?
↪ series masterlist | ◃ prev ⁘ next ▹
𝐕 ⇢ 𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓 ♪ between heaven and disaster
07:03 AM | Text Message from Grumpkin 🎃💖 hey sorry i missed all your calls and texts :( i figured u would ask abt seokjin and the date and i kinda didn’t wanna talk abt it not necessarily in a bad way just a “let me figure it out first” way which still doesn’t excuse ghosting u so i AM rly sorry :( how was your flight? and the dinner meeting?
07:16 AM ↳ SHE LIVES!!!!!! ↳ Good morning Grumpkincess <3 ↳ All that you said about your date has just made 1000x curious now yk ↳ Oh, and I had a horrible flight ↳ My partner drooled on my $70 shirt 😭 ↳ Barely had time to change it before our meeting at 4 UGH
Text Message from Grumpkin 🎃💖 good morning WHAT now ? that better not be a new pet name park jimin
↳ Yes it is, Grumpkincess ↳ A grumpy pumpkin princess ↳ Adorable right?
Text Message from Grumpkin 🎃💖 ykw your cringe ass deserved getting your shirt ruined karma 🖕
↳ Ihy 🖕 ↳ Ok enough of this can we pls talk???
Text Message from Grumpkin 🎃💖 ??? are we not talking?
Jimin rears back from his phone almost violently. Did you, of all people, really just imply that texting is equivalent to talking? He is pretty sure that of the entire time that the two of you have lived in separate towns, you have spent more than half of it on video calls with each other.
That is talking for the two of you.
Or at least it used to be, before he got onto this flight which has apparently landed him in some parallel universe.
He immediately sits up in bed and calls you.
And you immediately disconnect the call.
What?
His jaw is still dropped when his phone vibrates in his palm again, indicating an incoming voice call from you. Scowling, Jimin nearly whines a what the fuck into the phone.
“I look like dogshit, dude, please,” you groan from your end.
“Seriously? You’re telling me you won’t show me your face because you look bad?” Rolling his eyes, Jimin reclines on his bed, a little assured at hearing your voice but also a little confused by your words. “Dude. I’ve seen you with puke all over your clothes, I’ve seen you with cum on your face, I’ve seen you with a black eye, I’ve seen you with—”
“Okay, I get it!” you interrupt with another groan. “I feel like dogshit, then. Is that better?”
Now he is concerned. “No. Obviously. How can that be better? Babe, what’s going on? You’re being…”
“Weird? Bitchy? Whiny? Annoying?”
“No, just…” He bites his bottom lip. “A little unlike yourself.”
“Wow, that's worse.” You give a small sigh. “I’ll be fine, I just need to recalibrate my head. Don't worry.”
How can he not worry when you sound this tired and timid? Jimin almost wants to ask if Seokjin has something to do with it. But then his brain starts to conjure up images featuring exactly how that man could have tired you out and that leaves a bad taste in his mouth, followed by a series of negative emotions that make his heart race and his head hurt.
He went through this same series of emotions last evening, too, when you didn’t respond to his messages. He doesn’t want to give himself enough time to analyze any part of it, though, because he isn’t ready to face what he might uncover.
“How can I help?” he ends up asking, because putting his mind to literally anything else would be better than self-introspection right now.
You don’t respond immediately and everything is so quiet that Jimin can hear your breathing on the other side. Then you hum. “Honestly? Just give me a little time, Min. I’ll be fine.”
“Time? As in…time away from this conversation?”
“Yes, dork. Some time by myself, with my thoughts.” You chuckle as you say the words but Jimin doesn’t find them funny.
He swallows the tight discomfort in the back of his throat and scoffs in response, though. “Well, okay then. Your funeral. And here I was thinking I will tell you about this weirdly snobbish butler-assistant guy the clients brought with them to the meeting last night.”
“Wait, butler-assistant?” You exclaim with a curious scoff, and Jimin smiles at the spark of the familiar humour that tinges your voice. “What the fuck is that?”
“Escapes me! They had this Alfred lookalike guy driving their limo, who joined in when they sat at the table with us, and—get this—dude kept interrupting me to tell his boss the time every fifteen minutes! What fucking clownery!” Jimin pauses to inhale, slightly disappointed when he hears you give a distant chuckle. You’re not invested. Your head’s somewhere else. He doesn’t want to share his story anymore. “I might sock him in the face if pulls that shit again, today.”
You give a hum in response, which sounds decidedly half-hearted. “I’m sure your intimidating scowls would’ve scared him away already, Min. He probably won’t join your meeting today.”
Jimin’s mouth slowly parts at the unfamiliarity of your remark. You never miss any opportunity to roast him about being a pacifist. How did you allow his claim of throwing a punch to go by so easily?
And intimidating scowls? What happened to calling them ‘little bitch stare-downs’?
First you refuse to show him your face, sticking to this annoying voice call that’s overheating his phone because he doesn't have his airpods with him right now, and then you’re talking in a language that is so unlike you.
The discomfort in the back of his throat swells into a strange feeling that reaches the pit of his stomach.
“Yeah, I hope so… Sure.” His words come out low, hoarse and confused. So he clears his throat and puts a grin on his face. “Anyways! You sound like you need a fat nap to function like yourself again – I'll allow you to have that.”
“Mm-hm, I agree.” It could be his imagination, but you sound almost relieved. “I’ll call you soon, okay? Say hi to Tara for me.”
Jimin grunts and disconnects the call, immediately tossing his phone away as if it has personally offended him. Well maybe not the device, but the caller certainly has.
Just then, the door to the suite’s balcony opens and shuts, footsteps making their way to the other twin bed opposite the one he's lying on. He's almost counting down the seconds before a comment is made, and he doesn't have to wait long, when:
“Trouble in paradise?” comes Min Yoongi's taunting lilt.
Exhaling in ire, Jimin rolls his eyes. “For the last time: there’s no paradise to trouble, Yoongi.”
“You know what I mean, dude. You look worried. And frustrated. It's got to be about…her.”
Jimin winces at the emphasis on the pronoun. “She's not Voldemort, dude, you can say her name. What the fuck?”
“Ah, is that so? Then how about… the love of your life?”
“Yoongi! Stop with that already, man. It's not like that between us, we’re just friends who lean on each other for support,” Jimin speaks on autopilot, having perfected the words he has been repeating ever since his colleagues got to know about your existence in his life. “It’s a strange dynamic but it works out well for—”
“Oh, shut up, King of Delusions. About time you stop fooling yourself and me with that bullcrap.” Now it's Yoongi's turn to scoff at Jimin. “Your feelings for her are becoming more and more obvious with time. And if I can see them with such clarity, I bet that you can as well. Which only means that you’re knowingly turning a blind eye. And it is pissing me off.”
So, yeah, this isn't the first time Jimin's hearing this lecture from his friend.
It’s always the same story whenever any mention of you happens in Min Yoongi’s vicinity. Jimin should, ideally, be immune to the non-stop badgering, but the older guy somehow always manages to bring in fresh points to the table, so Jimin is forced to react with even louder groans, each time.
“When the hell are you going to admit you’re in love with her?”
“I’m literally not,” Jimin’s complaint comes out as a whine, and he mentally counts down the seconds till Yoongi will bring up the fact that he was stopped from pursuing you by Jimin. He wonders if the actual reason why Yoongi does this is because the guy still has a crush on you and feels resentful towards Jimin for not letting him ask you out. “Please stop.”
“You’re not in love? Sure, buddy. You forbade me from pursuing her like some alpha male protective of his mate… doesn't get more soulmate-y than that!” Yoongi rolls his eyes with a grimace. “When the fuck are you going to face yourself?”
“This again? Seriously? I've told you countless times that I did that because she was uncomfortable with your affections,” he reminds Yoongi for what feels like the hundredth time. “I was being a good friend.”
“Right, and she still doesn't know anything about it, does she? She still thinks I stopped pursuing her because I lost interest. Why haven't you told her you had a talk with me?”
Jimin closes his eyes and drags both his palms down his face because Yoongi is absolutely correct. “I… Because it doesn't concern her.”
Yoongi is silent for a while. When Jimin peeks past his fingers to see if the guy may have fallen asleep, he finds Yoongi gaping at him. “Are you even listening to yourself? You stopped me from pursuing her because she's uncomfortable, but telling her about it doesn't concern her? Make it make sense, Park!” He scoffs. “Does she even know we're friends? Does she know you're on this trip with me?”
Jimin remains silent, slowly turning his head to the other direction. “Not really. Told her I'm accompanied by Tara,” he mumbles, only for Yoongi to give a dramatic gasp.
“What? She doesn't know we're friends? Why the fuck would you lie to her about me? Are you ashamed of me, you asshole? And Tara, of all people? What the fuck is wrong with your head?”
Jimin almost laughs at Yoongi’s horrified expressions, but then stops himself because he half suspects the guy might toss him off the balcony if irritated enough, and they’re on the twentieth floor. “It's just… It never came up, I guess? I… don't really talk to her about work much…” His excuse is so weak it makes him physically cringe.
“You were literally just crying to her about our client's butler…”
“Okay, okay, fine!” Jimin sits up, sliding back to rest his head against the headboard, and looks up at the ceiling. “I don't know why I couldn't tell her. But it's not because I'm in love with her, okay? That doesn't even make sense because I still tease her about you for fun. And I also didn't stop you from pursuing her because I wanna be with her, or anything. I don't have those kinds of feelings for her. Promise.”
“Okay. What kind of feelings do you have for her then?”
Jimin opens his mouth to reiterate that you're just friends, briefly shutting his eyes in exasperation—and then freezes.
An entire cinematic reel of images sets in motion behind his closed eyelids, all featuring your eyes, your skin, your warmth — and his intimacy with them. The darkened haze of your gaze when he pulled away from kissing you. The softness of the skin of your shoulder when he dug his teeth into it; the taste of your skin. Of you. He can nearly smell the scent of your hair in his lungs and can hear the short, hitched breaths you puffed out next to his ears.
His heart rate kicks up and sweat dots his forehead within the seconds it takes for him to open his eyes again.
It is as if he got dunked into scalding hot water, stifling him and overwhelming all his senses all at once. He feels warm all over. His chest feels heavier than before.
Shit.
This isn't the kind of behavior someone’s ‘just friend’ would exhibit. These aren’t the kind of thoughts he has ever had about you, before.
Shit.
“Well?” Yoongi is looking at him expectantly with zero judgement in his gaze. “What kind of feelings, Jimin?”
He and Yoongi share a sort of bond where they serve as each other’s sounding boards about decisions that they take at work, with their team. That is not to say that they aren’t good friends and only talk about work. But it’s just that these conversations have never really included much honesty from Jimin’s end whenever the topic hovered over you.
Jimin can feel that he is about to change that now, though.
He breathes in and honestly confesses to Yoongi what he hasn't even said to himself out loud, yet: “They’re… confusing.”
Yoongi nearly jumps off his bed and lands on one corner of Jimin's, eyebrows raised and mouth agape. “Confusing? Not strictly platonic the way they used to be? Dude…” He shakes his head in awe. “This is new. What's changed?”
Jimin fiddles with his thumbs, lips pursed together as he finds himself caught in a very uncharacteristic fit of nervousness. “So there's this… this thing that happened before I left for this trip… And it changed some things, I guess?”
Yoongi blinks at him, expressions dropped to a deadpan. “You slept with her, didn't you?”
“Wha—how the hell—”
“I’m older than you, I've seen more in this world than you have, so hush with the theatrics. Tell me what happened after that.”
Well. Where does he begin? “She… went on a date with a guy, so—”
“A date? Right after the day you had sex with her?”
Jimin clicks his tongue and shoves Yoongi's shoulder. “Yes and it's not a big deal, okay? We decided that we are going to move ahead and remain the kind of best friends we've always been. And she'd made plans for that date before we slept together, so it's all completely fine.”
Yoongi is squinting at him by the time Jimin stops speaking. “Hm. Is it, really? All completely fine?”
“Yes, it is! I just said it was!”
“O—kay? So what's the problem, then? You decided you both would move ahead and you did – what's the catch? You don't like that she's being normal?”
“No, that's not it. She… wasn't exactly normal, either. She sounded…” Jimin gulps the nerves that block his throat as the prospect of losing your friendship swims up in his vision. “She sounded off. Different. Distant.”
“Oh, boy… Are you scared that she hit it off really well with her date and moved away from you?”
Jimin rolls his eyes. “That's impossible.”
Yoongi gives a smirk which unnerves Jimin in all the bad ways. “Is it? Because if it isn't the possibility of her growing distant from you and closer to someone else that's been troubling you, your issues are way deeper and definitely scarier. Good luck, pal.”
Throughout the entire day full of meetings that Jimin goes through, Yoongi's words keep circling in his head. Did it really bother him that you went on a date? He swore up and down that you guys will remain normal and that night will remain just a memory. So obviously it was correct of you to go on that date you’d planned in advance!
Why the hell is he acting up when you're doing exactly what you both planned you'd do?
Jimin chooses to have lunch by himself, in one corner of the cafeteria, leaving Yoongi to mingle with the clients, and mulls over his situation and state of mind.
Maybe he is bothered by your date. And maybe he is so bothered because it was too soon.
Because he can't get the images of that night out of his head the way he thought he'd easily be able to.
When he tried to nap on the flight, he saw you riding his dick. When he got into the shower, he saw your teary face after he'd eaten you out good. He had to touch himself to take the edge off, praying that Yoongi wouldn't hear him, and that literally helped with nothing.
Does he actually… want you?
The last time this happened was around six years ago.
Jimin sips at his almond milk as memories of a time he’d thought was distant and forgotten cascade through his brain.
The two of you were juniors in college. He'd recently gotten out of this toxic relationship that had sucked all the joy out of his life and was spending his days sleeping in and skipping classes, and his nights drinking with friends. It was 2 am when he saw an Instagram post of you posing sweetly for the camera and all he could think of was how badly he missed you. How he hated the fact that you went to different colleges because he wanted to see you so bad.
He'd left a series of drunk texts in your DMs, of all places, telling you that you were the best girl he'd ever met and that you were perfect in every way and how happy you would make someone by being theirs. You'd replied the next morning, thanking him for being a sweetheart and then told him that you’d found the lucky one – because axolotl had finally asked you out on a date.
Jimin would never admit it to anyone, but he’d been really upset and extremely jealous of that stupid asshole. It had gotten to the point where he over-inserted himself into your relationship to let fucking axolotl know that he’d come first in your life. That is not to say that the dude wasn’t toxic enough by himself. But when Jimin saw the way his actions were causing you hurt too, he decided to retreat.
That was when he swore he would step back and be the best bff to you at every step in life.
And he’s been on that road pretty religiously!
All the flirting he gets up to with you is totally harmless and only for fun because he enjoys making you blush. Which is probably why he tried to categorize that night under this ‘harmless fun’, too. But it’s clearly not working.
He’s restless. He needs to return home and see you in person.
He needs to ensure that he can still be your friend despite all these thoughts plaguing his brain.
What the hell is going to do if he doesn’t arrive upon the desired answer, however? He hasn’t the slightest clue.
Jimin spends the rest of the day waiting for your call – which never comes.
He texts you when he’s done packing his bags after his last meeting, but you don't respond.
The heavy feeling in his stomach grows heavier and heavier – until it becomes so suffocating that he has to come out to the balcony and breathe in some fresh air.
Except – smoke fills his lungs upon the first inhale, and he wrinkles his nose at Yoongi’s cigarette.
“What? Can't a guy enjoy a smoke in peace? We have to be at the airport in an hour.”
“Oh, no, don’t mind me. Please relish every bit of your death stick, by all means.”
Yoongi snorts at his words, and snuffs the remainder of the cigarette out with a roll of his eyes. “Your panties are in a twist again. What's happened now?”
“I'm fine.”
“Sure. And everything's okay between you and she who shall not be named?”
For a moment, Jimin nibbles on his bottom lip, watching the way the remnant smoke swirls away from the balcony and disappears into the late afternoon sky. Then he sighs. “I don’t know. She hasn’t responded to any of my texts and she didn’t call me. She’d said she would. I feel too fucking tense, it’s like my neurons are collapsing in on themselves.”
“Oh, man… If only you were a smoker, I would have procured you some of the best weed in the market. Would have taken the edge off with a handful of puffs.”
Jimin scowls at the guy. “Thank you for your consideration. Think I’ll just hit myself over the head with a saucepan and call it a day.”
“Stop stressing out so much, you moron. We’ll be back there in four hours. Take a cab straight to her place and talk everything out. Distance is a bitch that creates miscommunication. It’s just a matter of hours.”
Jimin nods to himself.
Just a matter of hours.
Just a matter of hours.
He can’t do it.
Jimin parted ways with Yoongi the moment he grabbed his luggage at the airport, and made a beeline for the cab he booked to take him to your place. He booked the ride in advance, even before he shot you a text informing his arrival back in town.
But just as his butt touches the leather seats – he realises that he can’t ambush you at your place.
So he regretfully gives the driver his own address and agrees to pay the extra amount that this re-routing would cost.
He shuts his eyes and lets out a deep, guttural exhale of frustration. Just a few hours ago, he couldn't wait to get to you fast enough.
And now, when he is at such a short distance away from actually being able to approach you and have a face to face conversation, his nerves have shackled him down and he cannot get himself to do it.
Some part of him believes that he needs to have a proper talk with himself about what the hell has happened with the dynamics the two of you share before he can prepare himself to have one with you. But some part of him believes that to be just a cop out. Which isn’t a complete lie, because at the end of the day, he is deathly afraid of losing you.
He needs to destress his mind.
But you’re the person he turns to when he needs to destress his mind.
Maybe… he can call you? That won’t be as risky and potentially devastating as paying you a visit, right?
Right. It can’t be. And he’s gotta talk to you because he misses you like crazy.
When his cab finally slows down before his apartment, his anxiety has reached a high that is making his forehead sweat despite the car's AC. Hopping out of the vehicle, he pays the driver and quickly gets into his apartment.
“It’s all gonna be fine, Park,” he mumbles to himself in a lame attempt at a pep talk while he changes out of his clothes and hops into the bathroom for a quick but hot shower. “She's your best friend in the world. You won't lose her. To anything.” He thickly swallows. “Or anyone.”
Donning some sweatpants and a t-shirt, he walks into his living room with his hair still wet and opens up a window to let some fresh air in. The sun has just sunk beneath the horizon, leaving behind some remnant daylight and a beautiful orange hue. Inhaling the crisp evening October air, he pulls his phone out of his pocket.
07:42 PM | Text Message from Grumpkin 🎃💖 woohooo! welcome back to the town, dork <3
He smiles at the text and calls your number.
You pick up the call within seconds of its ringing, filling his phone screen with your entire form that is seated in your bedroom’s bay window.
Jimin’s words sort of get stuck in his throat at the sight of your gorgeous self dressed down in grey lounge pants and a pastel yellow hoodie.
Wait, gorgeous? You look exactly the way you have always looked.
And… you have always looked gorgeous, haven’t you?
Jimin can feel his palms beginning to sweat. No, Yoongi was wrong. He wasn’t ready to face you. He isn’t ready to confront all that has changed in his perception of you, when you are exactly the same person that you have always been.
Your hair is wet, as if you just exited the shower too. And the way your hoodie drowns your entire body seems like the most adorable thing in the world to him. Your cheeks have a darker tint to them, too – caused by warm water, excitement about talking to him, or something else entirely? He hasn’t a clue. It just makes you look prettier and his heart beat louder.
Jimin is suddenly overcome with the urge to run all the way to your place and envelop you in a hug.
And you both never hug—both certifiably allergic to physical affection.
Fuck, he wishes he was there so that he could cup your pretty face in his palms and cover your kissable lips with his own. His fingers twitch with the urge.
Fuck.
Fuck.
“Welcome back, dork!” you announce, spreading your lips in a joyous grin. “Are you sleeping with your eyes open wide?”
Broken out of his crisis-inducing trance, Jimin forces a chuckle out of his throat, “I—I was gonna sing-song ‘honey, I'm home’ to you, but you picked up the call t—too fast.”
Fuck, did he just fucking stutter? You don’t seem to have noticed, thankfully, because you simply laugh some more. Your eyes are big and bright and brimming with affection, even if you've pursed your lips in a faux display of anger.
He feels like he missed looking into their depths. Has it really been just two days since he last saw you?
Wait, not even fully that – he left your place yesterday morning.
And now he’s on a freaking video call with you, clutching onto his phone like it’s his lifeline, nearly panting for your attention and affection as if he’s been starved for it.
Shit, shit, shit, he is supremely screwed.
“Honey’s glad you’re home, too, I guess?”
Your response is ten-on-ten on-brand with the sort of banter the two of you engage in. It makes him believe that everything is actually good. That it’s all gonna be alright.
Jimin smiles and hopes to God he doesn’t look as stupidly lovesick as he feels in the moment. A lost puppy finally returning home to its owner.
Cursing under his breath at his train of thoughts, he reclines sideways on one of his sofa chairs and fluffs his wet hair away from his forehead.
“So, how was your trip? How’s Tara?”
“Trip was good. Productive. We sealed the deal – despite the stupid Alfred-ass guy. And Tara’s fine, too.” He tries his best to disguise his wince as a smile. “Rushed home the moment we touched down.”
“Oh, her husband must’ve picked her up, right? Forgot she's married.” You nod to yourself, scratching your head and furrowing your brows in thought. “How was your flight?”
“It was fine. Had to sit next to a guy who fell asleep the moment we took off, and constantly kept leaning his head on my shoulder. It’s just a three hour flight! He couldn’t stay up that long?” he grumbles, rolling his eyes because the guy he’s talking about is actually Min freaking Yoongi. “I think I have a cramp in my right side because of him.”
You chuckle at that, popping some salted almonds into your mouth. “So what’s the plan for the week? You got office tomorrow?”
“Yep! Although we both are allowed to go in a bit late.”
“That’s considerate of your company.”
There’s a dull pause in the conversation which Jimin uses to wordlessly admire your face on his phone screen, again. He remembers the way other guys used to compliment your eyes, or the length of your nose, the plumpness of your lips, and how he used to just roll his eyes at their words because he didn’t see what they saw.
Well, now he does. He sees all of that and so much more. He sees it and he craves it.
If not kiss you then at least see you. Be in your proximity. Admire your smile without a camera distorting it into pixels.
He wishes to visit you. He feels ready enough. Composed enough. He will keep himself safely off of risky topics.
Like, come on. He is twenty-seven. Mature enough to handle himself enough to not make a fool of himself or accidentally ruin a friendship that he holds dearer than his life. Of course he is.
“So, what about you? Any plans for the night? Should I come crash?”
It’s out before he can overthink—or even fully think—of a proper, saner, more sophisticated way to pose the question.
And given the way your eyes widen slightly, regret singes his tongue that articulated the words. “Uh…”
Catching himself in time, Jimin sits up and makes a show of narrowing his eyes at the screen. “What? What is it? What are you hiding, little wench?”
A laughter bubbles out of you, but he can sense your awkwardness through the expressions you wear. It guts him. Swallowing thickly, he raises his eyebrows and beckons you to speak.
Finally, you exhale and purse your lips. “Well, um. I, uh, kinda have Seokjin coming over later?”
The way Jimin’s jaw drops to the floor hasn’t a smidgeon of acting to it. “Say what?”
You wince, biting down on your bottom lip. “Yeah…”
“I… Didn’t you say you didn’t wanna talk about the date?” His voice comes out hollow and plain, absolutely unlike what it usually is.
“I did, yeah, but I also said I needed to figure it out. And we’re, um, just figuring things out. I’ll tell you when—”
You cut off with a jump as your doorbell goes off in the background.
Seokjin is there. Seokjin is at your place. To be with you. To hold you, kiss you, touch you — and probably more.
Jimin feels the floor disappear from beneath his feet. His stomach is lurching and he is free falling.
“I'll, uh, I'll be right there!” you call in the general direction of the door, casting a hesitant glance towards your phone.
Jimin's free-fall increases in velocity.
“Is that… him?” he asks in a scratchy whisper, face nothing short of horror-struck.
And when you give an almost shy nod, Jimin's brain short-circuits and he can't see a thing.
“Well, okay then! Have a great time! See ya later!”
He disconnects the call and allows his phone to drop down into the carpet beneath the chair he’s seated on.
Despite trying his hardest, Jimin can’t stop his mind from making up images of you and Seokjin entwined in bed, with you making all the sounds that Jimin elicited out of you not forty-eight hours ago.
Fuck.
He feels shaken up.
Getting up, he walks into his kitchen and grabs a bottle of water.
“It’s fine,” he tells himself. “It’s just weird because it’s too soon. Otherwise it’s good. It’ll be great. She needs this. I told her to go for it.”
He clears his throat and sips some more water.
“They’re just sleeping together, anyway. She isn’t going to fall in love with him overnight. And if she does, she’ll tell me… And I’ll support her because she’s my be–best friend in the world.”
Even as the words leave him, they scorch his insides on their way out. His brain feels fuzzy with all the misplaced anger, regret and loss he feels.
It’s half past two in the morning and Jimin is scrolling brainrot content on social media to put his mind off of the activities you might be getting up to. If you'd be in your bedroom or if you'd be in the living room, in front of the TV.
If Seokjin would be eating you out in the same spot where Jimin—
Okay, here's a video of fifteen rubber duckies! They're being squashed at the same time! They're making such a horrendous but hilarious sound!
Needless to say – he isn’t doing a great job keeping himself distracted.
Groaning at himself, he refreshes his feed and gets ready to scroll again. And then he comes to a halt.
A post from you has popped up.
It's a selfie featuring you and Kim Seokjin, seated in your car, heads tipped together in the middle of the seats, grins on your faces and cones of vanilla ice-cream in your hands. A passably normal and arguably cute picture.
Until Jimin’s eyes travel to the content below the picture.
He sits up in his bed upon spying the ‘💝’ emoji you’ve captioned the post with.
A heart emoji? You abhor those! Last time you willingly put one on your social media was way back when you were still with axolotl!
Oh…
Oh no…
Does this mean that you and Seokjin…?
And when the fuck were you planning to tell him?
Jimin needs to talk to you. Soon.
Foregoing any texts announcing his arrival, Jimin decides to steer his car towards your place, right after work on Monday. He gets off an hour later than you, so there’s no chance he won’t catch you.
But as he locks the vehicle and makes his way up your apartment, it hits him that there is a very real possibility that he might find Seokjin in there with you. And Jimin is completely unprepared to confront the man without having a conversation with you first.
So he presses the bell with his fingers crossed – and gives a sigh of relief when you open the door by yourself.
You’ve changed out of your work clothes and are dressed up in the same set of hoodie and lounge pants he saw you in during the video call, yesterday. And his urge to capture you in a hug and then smother you in kisses is back.
Stifling it all, however, Jimin focuses on the social media post he saw and allows the feeling of irritation and betrayal he felt upon spotting the heart emoji to wash over him, again.
Then he grins at you. “Surprise?”
Your gaping mouth closes on a chuckle and, rolling your eyes, you let him in. “Unannounced but not unpleasant, hey.”
Jimin resolutely looks away from the couch in your living room, unwilling to let his resolve to confront you weaken by any means, and heads straight to your kitchen table to occupy one of the bar stools.
“So. How’s work?” He asks, leaning over the counter a little, and squints at your form as you busy yourself pouring a glass of orange juice for him.
“Uh, what? Work’s work. Did you come here to ask me that?” Your head tilts to the side in a question and Jimin exhales in defeat.
“No. Obviously. I'm here to ask you about Seokjin.” You tense at that and Jimin gives a scoff. “Okay, don't you dare try to whip up a story! You didn't tell me on Saturday – fine. You barely told me anything yesterday, harsh but acceptable. But now I'm here and now I wanna know what's going on. And if you dare try to look for a way out this time, I will drive a knife through your gut.”
He didn't mean to go that dark, but your behaviour has gotten on his nerves so awfully, that he couldn't help it.
“Wha–Jimin! I told you I'm still figuring it out…” You avoid his eyes as you speak, playing with the drawstrings on your hoodie. “I'll tell you first thing when I have clarity.”
“Well, I think you do have clarity but you’re just refusing to share it with me. And you need to hurry the fuck up with that because I'm losing patience here.”
Your forehead furrows. “Hey… You can't rush me to make up my mind about someone! It's bad enough that you pushed me to go on a date with him.”
“But I'm literally not rushing you? I saw that social media post you made, and you captioned it with a…heart emoji. You never make public gestures of affection with someone so quickly, so I just wondered if you had developed actual feelings for the guy, beyond the admiration you claimed to have for him. I was concerned about you. What choices you'd made.” He looks away from your face and down at his manicured nails. “As your best friend.”
Your sharp inhale draws his attention back to your face, and he is met with a somewhat cautious expression. “Oh? So you're being a concerned friend? That's – that's the only reason why you'd like to know about me and Seokjin?”
Jimin's breath gets caught in his throat. What did you just ask him? What did you imply?
He frantically searches your face to look for cues that would guide him towards the right way to respond to your question, but all he can find is impatience and thinly veiled disappointment.
The amount of confusion he feels makes his head spin.
He can either be honest – or he can play this safe. And given the amount of risks he has taken with you recently, he would very much rather stay in the comfort zone for once, even if it means that he has to lie.
“Sure. I mean…what other reason could there be? Right?”
Your shoulders slump in defeat and your eyes lose a bit of their sparkle. Before Jimin can even begin to analyse what the hell any of it could be about, you're straightening up again with a determined set to your shoulders.
“Yeah. That's right. No other reason. None at all. You're a concerned friend, that's good. That's great.” You lick your lips and then walk around the counter to sit on the other stool, next to him. Your eyes are hesitant when they meet his own. “Because Jimin, I've been wanting to tell you something. I've thought about this throughout the weekend, and… I really, truly regret that night. What we did was stupid, careless and extremely catastrophic. We shouldn't have slept together.”
Jimin feels a part of his soul crumble and wither at those words.
His brain slows down, gaze grows heavy, and his lungs have to put in extra effort to keep his breathing steady.
Stupid, careless and extremely catastrophic.
His fingers tremble when he tries to reach for the glass of juice, so he pulls them towards his palm and forms a fist to hide them from you.
“You… why?” He hates himself for sounding as small and lost as he does. Clicking his tongue, he runs both his palms down his face and looks up to meet your saddened eyes again. “I mean it's great that you moved on the way we'd planned, but you don't have to regret the night we shared. It's okay. You can have it both ways.”
You shake your head, eyes even more sadder than before. “But I don't want to. We are supposed to be friends forever, Jimin. You and I… We can’t - I… I can’t lose you. To anything. So I can't do what you’re doing. Cherish that night's memory and behave normally. I need to forget and I need you to know that I wish it never happened. And that I'm… I'm sorry that I’m not strong enough.”
Jimin tries to swallow past his dry throat, only to cough when he can't.
It kinda sounds like you're afraid you might want him still, so you are nipping the possibility in the bud by denying that the two of you ever crossed the line. It kinda sounds like you can’t move ahead because of that night, so you wish to act as if it didn’t happen.
But you are lighter on words and heavier on nibbling your lip, so maybe you've somehow figured out how precious that memory is to Jimin and you’re just trying to spare his feelings, which – ouch.
He knew he was becoming pathetic but he didn't realise it was this pathetic.
Scoffing, Jimin gets up and shakes his head. “Don't worry, I wasn't getting any ideas about us doing a repeat of what happened, if that's what you were concerned about. I only want the two of us to resume being the best of buds and share everything the way we used to.”
“No, Jimin, that's not—I mean, you wanted me to give Seokjin a real shot and I did. And so I don’t want there to be anything that holds me back from being honest about it.”
The set of words hurt him more than they should, but he moves past them to address his main concern that you still seem to have missed. “Hey, listen to me. I didn't come here to hound you about Seokjin because I have a problem with what's going on. I came here because I have a problem with you not telling me what's going on. I have a problem with you believing you need to keep it from me for some stupid, untrue reason that you might’ve made up in your head.”
You don't say anything for a while, don't even look up to meet his gaze. Your lower lip stays between your teeth and your eyes don't look away from the kitchen counter where both your hands rest next to the untouched glass of orange juice.
And then you suddenly look up and into his eyes, determination all over your face. “You need to get a girlfriend.”
Uh.
What?
Gaping at the offputting, crooked smile that overtakes your face, Jimin slowly shakes his head as he wonders if he might've heard you wrong.
“Yeah,” you continue, nodding to yourself, “I feel guilty, Min. I’ve broken our no-dating pact, so it's only fair if you get to leave, too.”
Woah. Two dates with a guy and you've already declared your pact broken? And yet you wouldn't say a word about Seokjin beyond the fact that you’re pursuing it because Jimin asked you to.
He is quite literally too stunned to speak.
You laugh a little, looking almost nervous. “What? Don't tell me you fell in love with me or something, Min. That night was purely physical, right? We're mature enough to remember that.”
The words hit him in a bad way, because you very clearly said them in a way that was meant to hurt him. Of course it was purely physical! But nothing between the two of you can ever be without at least some semblance of emotion because you both go way back! Even the playful insults you toss at each other and the jokes you share carry affection, intimacy and meaning.
He doesn't have the slightest clue what you've been trying to do all this time, but if you truly want to rile him up and upset him tonight, he's going to forfeit and give you the satisfaction of having succeeded. He hasn't got enough mental strength to decipher the meaning of everything you're doing and then try to diffuse the grenade you've built.
So Jimin steps away from the counter and gives a loud scoff. “Don't be ridiculous. Of course not, there's no way in hell. How could I ever be in love with someone like you? Look at your emotional range and look at mine. I know, better than anyone else in the world, that you’re incapable of love. I know not to love a rock. I'm not stupid.”
Your face falls and eyes turn glossy, but Jimin can bet you aren't hurting like he is. You can't. That's one of your superpowers – compartmentalising so well, you sometimes don't even see the hurt that devastates others.
“R–right. Didn't have to insult me, but you're right.”
“Why?” Jimin scoffs. “Isn't that what our relationship is about? Being friends? Laughing together? Insulting each other?”
You frown at him. “Why're you talking like that? Why are you getting angry at me?”
Jimin blinks at your words, watching the way your eyes look truly clueless, and sheer sadness envelopes him.
Because it hits him now. Maybe you didn’t say those words to hurt him. Maybe he underestimated your inability to feel. Maybe you really don't get why it was special. Because you really didn't feel why it could be special.
Maybe nothing between the two of you has ever carried any emotion to it, for you.
You have no idea about the emotional turmoil he's been in the past two days when he couldn't get you out of your mind, because you were on a completely different page. This is why it was easy for you to go on that date and then call that guy home the next day.
The night you shared with Jimin doesn't matter to you. Jimin doesn't matter to you.
Not the way he thought. Not the way you do to him.
And his evolving feelings for you, whatever they end up becoming, would only serve to be an inconvenience in your life that you would just ask him to sort out instead of helping him wade through them because…
This is who you are.
This is who you've always been.
This is the girl he met in eighth standard, had a crush on, became lifelong friends with, had sex with, and developed more than platonic feelings for.
This is you.
He doesn’t know how to deal with this realization. He can’t deal with this sitting in your kitchen. And he can’t deal with this without a drink.
So he collects his coat and walks out of your house, ignoring your calls of his name and choosing his own sanity over you for once
© jimilter | 2025
