Notes: Okay, so this is canon compliant for the most part but seeing as I am not one-hundred-percent savvy about BTS's living situation I took a few liberties with the dorms. Forgive me for any minor slip ups that might be in there!
Also, I wrote this story with Jimin being trans in my mind, but I really didn't make it a central theme so if you're looking for a story that emphasizes that a little more, this may not be for you. Alright here goes~

Everyone had a crush on Jimin.

That's the way Taehyung saw it. How could they not? It was kind of a requirement once you got to know him. Jimin was a pure injection of everything people found alluring. Flirtation. Sexuality. Charm.

Taehyung leaned forward and stared at himself hard in the mirror.

It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for him. Working in the industry that they did, he figured they all spent more time scrutinizing themselves then they did being normal young adults. You know, eating junk food, watching movies, worrying about relationships, and doing all the things normal people did to have fun. At least he'd heard it went something like that.

He brushed a strand of hair out of his face and retained eye contact with himself.

People were always telling him he was beautiful—and not just beautiful, but the most beautiful. Part of him liked it, of course, but it also made him really uncomfortable, and not just because of the insecurity he could see in the others' eyes whenever this kind of thing was brought up.

It was an exhausting thing to live up to.

Some days he could see it, or at least he thought he could. Other days he wasn't so sure. Stare long enough in the mirror and he could start to doubt anything.

He pressed his lips together slightly, rubbing them against one another in thought.

Part of the problem was that he didn't get people the same way the others did. Sure, they were all extraverted enough to hold their own in this crazy industry, but the others just had a little something else. Something that made people laugh, that made people feel safe. Something that Taehyung couldn't quite grasp.

Something that, coincidentally, Park Jimin had metric fuckloads of.

Fuck.

He broke eye contact with himself and recoiled, pacing across the room and hurling himself on the bed.

Something was touching his face.

He groaned, burying his face in his pillow. A pair of fingers pried through his hair and found his cheek, pinching annoyingly, tugging on his earlobe. He let out an exasperated sigh and turned over in a huff. "What?"

It was too dark to tell who it was. "Taetae," the person whispered, as though sharing a secret.

"What?" Taehyung repeated, the annoyance in his voice evident in the way it swooped and lilted.

"Taetae." The person leaned over, whispering in his ear. "You need to hurry. Jungkook is showering."

Taehyung went to turn on the light but a hand caught his wrist.

"Nuh-uh. We can't risk anybody finding out we're awake."

"What the hell is going on?" Taehyung demanded. By this time he knew full-well who it was straddling him in the darkness, their breath brushing warmly against the side of his neck, and this only made him want to bury his face back into his pillow and hide there forever.

"We've got to go now," Jimin intoned, grabbing the front of Taehyung's shirt and giving it a little tug. And then: "What the hell—? Why are you still in your dance clothes?"

"I… I didn't feel like changing," Taehyung said flatly. His eyes were beginning to adjust and he could see the outline of Jimin's face in the darkness. It was at this point that a joke needed to be made to alleviate the awkwardness of the situation, but it was also at this point where his social graces usually fell short. Silence filled the room like a living entity.

"Oh," Jimin said eventually, laughing under his breath. "Not like it matters. You're still sexy even if you're all sweaty and gross."

"Jimin!" Taehyung exclaimed.

Now this, this was the point where not only Taehyung would balk, but each of the other five members too. Most of the other members were flirts, but nobody could stand up to Jimin. Nobody. Taehyung couldn't count the number of times he'd seen Hobi's eyes flicker to the ground in defeat, or Kookie's entire face light up like a fire after Jimin had delivered a particularly compelling remark.

Or glance. Or laugh. Or wink. Or butt grab.

The list went on.

Jimin rubbed the front of Taehyung's chest, tilting his head to the side. "Come on," he urged, glancing back over his shoulder. "We've got to hurry if we're gonna do this."

Taehyung sighed, a smile curving onto his lips despite having just reminded himself of how unspecific and meaningless Jimin's flirtations could be. "Fine."

Just more salt in an already festering wound.

The two of them unearthed the bag from under Taehyung's bed and crept down the hallway until they reached the dorm Jungkook shared with Namjoon. Thankfully the rapper was still up, working in the studio, so the room was empty. Jimin sprinted to Jungkook's dresser and began rifling through the drawers until he found the right one. He gestured madly to Taehyung to join him. "Hurry!"

They systematically stole every single pair of underwear that they could find, replacing it hurriedly with the pairs they had stolen from Hoseok's dresser the night before. Taehyung took great care to fold and arrange them so that they looked the exact same as Jungkook's had been before they were removed, crouching there until Jimin grabbed his arm impatiently and hauled him back out into the hallway.

"Hurry, hurry hurry!" Jimin hissed, his voice breaking with giggles. They bolted down the corridor and escaped into their dorm just as the bathroom door creaked open outside. They hurled themselves on to Jimin's bed, muffling gasps of glee as they heard Jungkook tromp down the hallway to his room.

Jimin was quaking with laughter. Taehyung could feel it shaking the bed. He reached over and covered his friend's mouth, holding a finger to his own lips, which were stretched into a huge grin. Jimin's lips were soft against the palm of his hand, so soft that he almost pulled his hand away, but before he could Jimin grabbed it and pressed it harder against his mouth, gasping headily against Taehyung's fingers.

"Oh my god," he moaned. "We were almost caught!"

Taehyung may not have known what normal people did to have fun, but he certainly knew what the Bangtang Boys did. Ridiculous, inane pranks like swapping everybody's underwear with everyone else's without them knowing. It had already been a couple days and he was pretty certain Jin was walking around in Namjoon's briefs by this point. They didn't know how long it would take until somebody noticed. This was why they'd left Suga until last. He would definitely know.

He suddenly realized that he was staring at Jimin somewhat expressionlessly.

As if on cue, Jimin's eyes narrowed and he drew his friend's hand a little out from his face. "Look, Taetae," he said, lifting Taehyung's hand until it covered his eyes instead. "It's Blood Sweat and Tears all over again." He bit his lip and reached down, running a hand over his inner thigh, dangerously close to… something else.

Taehyung's breath caught audibly in his throat. "Oh my god," he chided, pulling away and giving Jimin a little shove. "Stop."

"What?"

"You're ridiculous."

"You're ridiculous."

Jimin's hand slid down from where he had returned his friend's shove, drifting idly on the front of Taehyung's shirt. His small fingers hooked onto the folds, and Taehyung swore he saw his friend's confident expression falter just for a second.

My mind is playing tricks on me.

"So, you going to go to sleep, or what?" Jimin asked. His voice was suddenly strange.

Taehyung didn't know what to say. "Yeah, I guess."

"Alright."

After a moment, Taehyung got up, stripped off his dance clothes, pulled on a t-shirt, and returned to his own bed. He lay with his back to Jimin's half of the room, staring fixedly at the wall.

Jimin was crying in the bathroom.

Taehyung sat beside him, with his wrists crossed over one another and his head bowed slightly. Jimin's blond waves fell into his eyes, sticking in some places to his tear-streaked skin, and he pressed the back of a trembling hand to his mouth. The sound of extinguished sobs ricocheted off the tile like something falling over in a deserted parkade. Taehyung wanted nothing more than to reach over and brush those hairs away, to run a thumb slowly along the skin underneath Jimin's eyes until his skin was wet too, all the while clutching his best friend close to his own chest.

But, most of all, Taehyung wished that he could cry also.

Maybe he was too worried. He couldn't get over the fact that usually he was the one in Jimin's place, crying first, as silently as possible, with Jimin eventually joining him, shedding quiet tears of solidarity by his side. They never talked about it either, those times. Just cried together. This was the kind of friendship that they had, and Taehyung didn't want to let him down.

Jimin's inhalation was long and wracking. Taehyung inched a little closer until their shoulders were touching. Almost immediately, Jimin turned into him, hiding his face in Tae's shoulder and wrapping the arm that wasn't covering his face around Tae's waist.

Stifling a gasp, Taehyung tentatively reached up, cupped the back of Jimin's head with an outstretched hand, and fought hard not to feel guilty about the fact that he was happy to touch Jimin like this, even under such terrible circumstances.

Jimin's hair caught in the fluorescent light like albino moths flying under streetlamps. Taehyung held Jimin like this; silent, understanding, and warm, until his friend's body stopped shaking and his breath returned to normal.

Taehyung hoped Jimin would attribute his racing heartbeat to sympathy.

The next day Taehyung entered the dorm only to find it empty. He, Jungkook, Jin, and Jimin had been practising a vocal number earlier that day, and then they had split for individual rehearsals in the afternoon. He was partially glad to find the dorm empty. He wondered if perhaps the silence and solitude would help to transform his mind into a similar state. As it stood, it was dancing with images of the way Jimin's lips formed words as he stood in front of the mic, closing his eyes when he got into the song.

Stop it.

Taehyung marched into the kitchen and opened a cupboard. He fumbled listlessly with a pack of potato snacks. The others must have gone out somewhere on the way back. That, or they were still rehearsing. He wondered what Jimin was thinking about right now. It was only last night that Taehyung had awoken to the sound of his friend slipping out of their dorm to the washroom, his breath already shaking and unsteady, an augury of the tears to come.

Sometimes, when Jimin was really getting into a song, he would do this thing where he'd rock his hips in time with the beat. It was subtle, but so characteristic Tae would probably recognize it from a mile away. Forward and back, with a little scoop; both hands clutching the mic. Nobody Tae knew felt the music like that.

God damn it.

He ripped his phone out of his pocket and stared at the screen. Nothing. Well, nothing that mattered, anyway. He stuffed it back into his jacket and tore the snacks open so vigorously that a couple chips scattered across the floor. Cursing, he bent down and picked them up. That was when he heard it. He froze, fingers poised to toss the fallen chip into his mouth.

The shower was running.

Had it been going when he'd first arrived?

I guess I'm not alone after all, he thought, mouth curving downwards into a thoughtful pout. He stood slowly, bag of snacks in hand, and made his way slowly down the hallway. The shower was definitely going, but there was something else. Another sound.

God damn it, he thought in a panic, eyes widening. Is he crying again?

Taehyung honestly didn't know what he would do if he found Jimin crying by himself again. There was safety in the silence they reserved for these crying sessions, sure, but safety wasn't exactly what a person always needed when they were feeling like shit. Taehyung figured he really should ask Jimin what was wrong, but the problem was, Taehyung was absolutely terrible at knowing what to say. It was easier with fans, who didn't actually know the entirety of who he was. But Jimin did, and Jimin was his friend… his equal. They slept in the same room. Ate together every day. Jimin grasped the totality of Kim Taehyung's awkwardness. If Taehyung fucked it up, Jimin wouldn't just chalk it up to adorable weirdness—Taehyung was pretty sure about that.

He strode clandestinely past their bedroom, cocking his ear to the side. The washroom door was slightly ajar and a voice carried out into the hallway. They definitely sounded like they were crying, or… Taehyung stepped a little closer, holding the bag of chips like it was a grenade that could go off at any second. When he was close enough that he could feel the steam from the shower on his face, it was too late. He knew exactly who it was inside that shower and also exactly what they were doing and what they were doing was definitely not crying.

Jimin was moaning in a sort of breathy way.

It was almost like a pant, but more vocal… and more concentrated, as though he were trying not to call out more loudly. Taehyung stood frozen in place, the stupid bag of snacks still in one hand, a single chip in the other, and felt both his eyebrows rise until they disappeared beneath his bangs.

Was he going to pass out? Hyperventilate? Spontaneously combust?

Probably all of the above.

Yeah, it was definitely Jimin. Taehyung would recognize that timbre anywhere. It was like honey, but honey whose surface had caramelized into a shining, pliable layer. It was dangerously high, smooth but throaty, and wet as Taehyung imagined Jimin's entire body was at the moment, not to mention certain sections of his own boxers were rapidly becoming as he stood there listening to his best friend touching himself in the shower.

Part of him knew he should walk back the way he came. Part of him also knew that the others could come home at any second. Then what? Would Taehyung play dumb, pretending he hadn't heard a thing, and risk having somebody else discover Jimin in this… vulnerable… state? His chest immediately clenched at the thought. No. He didn't want anybody else hearing Jimin like this. Not today, and hopefully not ever…

There was suddenly a wet clapping noise.

Was that Jimin throwing his hand, his body against the shower wall? Jesus. Taehyung found himself leaning even closer in helpless fascination. He could definitely make out something rhythmic and vaguely obscene underneath the sound of the running water. Images bloomed in his mind and he swallowed thickly. Jimin, forearm pressed against the shower wall and forehead pressed against forearm, teeth bared and hand furiously working himself below, eyebrows arching up as he felt himself getting closer…

Would it be alright if Taehyung unzipped his pants right here in the hallway?

Fuck!

He shifted his weight from one foot to the next, trying to ignore just how wickedly aroused he was. The front of his sweat pants bloomed out under his t-shirt in the most visible boner he'd had for a while. Fuck, if the others came home just then, he'd have a lot more to worry about then justprotecting Jimin's privacy…

Jimin was speeding up.

Taehyung could hear his friend breathing, gasping, moaning unintelligibly. It was almost like the more rhythmic and steady his hand became, the more erratic were his vocalizations. Taehyung found himself setting the back of chips on the hardwood and reaching down into his boxers, wrapping his fingers around his burning cock and leaning back against the wall, so he could still hear Jimin going at it. The head of his dick was already soaked with precum, and he palmed himself, moaning deeply. Just then there was another slapping noise, and Jimin spoke audibly this time, loud enough to hear through the wall, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Taehyung swiftly gave his own cock a couple pumps; once, twice, and there he was cumming alongside his best friend, a hot and horny orgasm like when he was sixteen years old, right into his boxers.

The second it was over he heard a key turn in the door.

"God damn it," he mouthed, looking over his shoulder, at the chips on the floor, and then at the hand that was still stuffed down his pants. Panicking, he reached for the doorknob and slammed the washroom door shut before hurtling back into his dorm and tossing himself on his bed. Moments later voices echoed down the hallway.

The others were home.

"Tae?" he heard Jimin call out suspiciously.

The problem with living in dorms was that there was little or no privacy. That didn't mean that they didn't do their best to keep out of each other's ways in certain regards. He and Jimin were roomies, but in all the years that they'd slept in the same room, Taehyung didn't think he'd ever seen… or heard… any evidence of his friend's masturbation habits. Certainly he'd kept his own to himself, so the fact that his underwear were currently stickier than if somebody had stuffed them full of half-sucked lollipops was completely unacceptable.

Why on earth did he and Jimin have to share a hamper?

He managed to wipe his hand off on the inside of his pants and was sitting somewhat haphazardly on the side of his bed when Jimin pushed through the door, dressed in nothing but his briefs.

"Hey man," he said, tossing his dirty laundry into the hamper.

"Hey."

A crunching sound brought Taehyung's head up with a jerk. He was appalled to find Jimin sifting through the bag of chips he'd abandoned by the bathroom door.

"I like this flavour."

"Yeah."

"The cinnamon ones were weird."

Tae nodded mutely.

After a pause, Jimin asked, his tone casual, "Um, when did you get home?"

"Just now," Taehyung said quickly. "How come?"

"Oh. Just wondering." Jimin's expression was vaguely perplexed, but if he suspected anything, he kept it to himself. The sound of the bathroom door slamming shut continued to echo incriminatingly in Taehyung's ears.

"What's up?"

"Nothing," Taehyung said, with far too much decisiveness.

"Hmm?" Jimin glanced up from the bag and appraised his friend more closely. What he must have seen was beyond Tae's imagination just then, but Taehyung was sure of one thing. Taehyung was failing hard at keeping his face as blank as usual. After a moment, Jimin cracked a smile. "What are you doing?"

"What?" Taehyung looked down at himself in cold horror. He didn't think there was any visible cum soaking through his pants. "What, sitting?"

"You look… I dunno, weird," Jimin accused, crossing the room and scratching nonchalantly at his abdomen. Taehyung fought so hard not to let his gaze trail further down that his eyes began to water. It was impossible not to imagine what was under those briefs after what he'd just heard.

"I'm fine."

"Taetae," Jimin hummed, sitting down beside him on the bed and resting a hand on Taehyung's thigh. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Taehyung remarked with a single, bobbing nod, voice as bland as possible.

"Are you sure?" Jimin was still smirking, which made things a little better, but only by a hairline.

"Yeah!" Taehyung repeated, almost manically.

"But Tae…" Jimin trailed off, his hand sliding upwards ever so slightly. "I just wanted to ask about, you know."

Taehyung's heart was beating so hard he swore he could hear it through his chest.

Shit, shit, shit!

"Ask… about… what?"

Jimin sighed. "The other night." He paused. "When you know, I was blubbering."

Taehyung felt his body sag a little. "Oh. That."

"I just wanted to make sure you didn't feel weird about it."

"Jimin," Taehyung chided. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"Well, it's just…"

"I've cried in front of you hundreds of times!"

"Yeah, but…"

"Don't say it isn't the same, because well…" Taehyung paused in thought. "Well, I guess it isn't the same, really, but you know I don't… I don't care."

It was possibly the most lukewarm thing anybody could have said at that moment, especially given the way Taehyung actually felt inside, but it was the best he could do. He only prayed that Jimin would understand what he meant regardless, because it was ever so important that this person in front of him grasped at least a fragment of the things that Taehyung felt for him, doomed and ridiculous as they might have been.

Jimin's head lolled forward and he picked at a thread on Taehyung's duvet. After a contemplative pause, he glanced up through his bangs at Taehyung, a small smile tugging at his mouth.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Taehyung shouldn't have promised.

Because, really, things were not okay.

Every living moment was plagued with it; the sound of Jimin's voice breaking with heat, images of him bucking his muscular body against the shower door, tan and lean through the glass, speckled with beads of moisture.

Taehyung thought about it during practice. He thought about it during meals. He thought about it when he was supposed to be sleeping.

It was almost surreal to have Jimin around him the entire time that it was going on. It was like this part of his everyday life had suddenly become something else, a living fantasy, where Taehyung continually wondered if Jimin were real.

But when he really thought about it, had it really been as sudden as all that?

Just how long had this god-damned thing been seeding in his mind?

A week after the fact he'd beaten off to thoughts of Jimin enough that it felt almost sacrilegious to let Jimin touch him. He'd re-enacted the shower scene himself at least five times and it still hadn't gotten remotely old. Did his best friend have any idea the things he'd imagined those hands doing? He sat on a bench, zipping and unzipping his backpack repeatedly, watching as Jimin dangled off Jungkook, making some joke about giving Hobi a wedgie.

He would get over this. He would have to. He couldn't spend every rehearsal for the rest of his life half-baked on fantasies about fucking his best friend, who also happened to be his colleague and roommate. He couldn't. He was certain to lose his mind if he didn't figure something out.

"Taetae?" Jimin asked backstage, looking up into Taehyung's eyes.

Taehyung didn't respond.

"Is everything okay in there?"

The question was poised lightly, a joking smile smeared across Jimin's mouth, but Taehyung could tell his friend was actually a little worried. As Namjoon passed by he gave Jimin's shoulder a bump and met Taehyung's eye with a friendly nod. Taehyung nodded back.

And then he slid his gaze to the right and met Jimin's eye.

Both of them were slightly sweaty from their performance. Jimin's low-cut shirt dangled off him like moss from a hauntingly slender sapling in the forest. In that moment, Taehyung was suddenly compelled to tell him everything. Every single piece of it. He retained eye contact until Jimin's smile had faded to something else, something far more acute.

Taehyung reached out slowly and gripped Jimin's shoulder. The two of them kept looking at each other. And then, slowly, Taehyung drew a couple surreptitious circles in the top of Jimin's arm with his thumb. Jimin looked down at what Taehyung was doing to him, and Taehyung drew a couple more, extending his thumb further down to the top of Jimin's chest.

Jimin looked up quickly, meeting Taehyung's eyes again, and this time, there wasn't a single degree of humour in his expression.

Taehyung inhaled as if to speak, but then deflated at the last moment. "Yeah," he muttered, nodding a couple times. "Yeah, yeah, it's fine."

He dropped his hand and turned away, striding down the passage to the dressing rooms. He reached up and touched his lips, sensing the burn of a kiss that had only taken place in his own mind. He swore he could feel Jimin's eyes on his back.

Please stop, he willed his emotions. You're going to ruin this perfectly wonderful thing that we already have.

His jaw was so tense he thought he might shatter his teeth.

Can't this be enough?

Taehyung was crying in the washroom.

Jimin, as usual, was there beside him, holding his hand, wrapping his arm around his back. Taehyung cried into his own forearm, which was resting on his knees. He felt one of Jimin's tears hit the back of his hand.

Why, why did I have to do this to myself?

The silence used to be so comforting. Now it was incredibly lonely. Taehyung longed to tell Jimin everything, but the truth was, he didn't know how, and thinking about it only made him cry harder.

Not to mention the fact that Tae had fucked up the changes in their new choreography at least three times and his ankle was aching from where he'd landed strangely on it in the final run.

Jimin sighed huskily, and suddenly Tae couldn't take it anymore. He turned towards his friend and pressed his face into Jimin's shoulder. A single hand made its way to Jimin's chest, grabbing a handful of his friend's shirt, gripping tight as though maybe he could force things to make sense if only he squeezed hard enough. A moment later, he pushed away, covering his face, only to tumble back where he'd come from with a little moan, his head bobbing underneath Jimin's chin, both hands scrabbling against Jimin's body for some kind of relief.

"Tae," Jimin remarked in hushed surprise, breaking their rule of silence for the first time ever.

It was always a treat when they got a day off. What it meant was that they could stay up late the night before, perhaps have a couple drinks, and maybe play a game or two.

Unfortunately, Taehyung didn't feel like doing anything at all. Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jin had snuck some junk food in and were snacking covertly in the living room. Hoseok had taken Jungkook out drinking again, perhaps with Jimin, and Taehyung, well, Taehyung was lying in bed on his back with the covers up to his chin, staring raggedly at the ceiling.

He wondered vaguely if anybody had ever noticed that their underwear was missing.

Jin might've pressed him to join them, but thankfully Namjoon and Yoongi had the sense to know when somebody needed to be left alone. Or…

Did they?

Just then the door pushed open.

Oh.

Jimin closed it softly behind himself, turning the doorknob before he shut it so that it didn't clunk closed. Taehyung didn't know why he bothered, because it was clear that Taehyung wasn't asleep. The lamp was still on.

Jimin crossed the room without looking at Taehyung and sat on his bed.

After what felt like forever, Taehyung broke the silence.

"Weren't you going out with Hobi and Kook?"

Jimin shrugged. "Didn't feel like it."

"Oh."

More silence.

Taehyung sighed. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I know I haven't been much fun lately."

"Yeah, man. You totally bailed on every single one of our prank plans."

Taehyung tried for a snicker, but it came out more like a choked cough. "Yeah."

"Tae," Jimin said softly, simply. The word infused into the room like a chime.

They were both silent for a moment.

"You know," Taehyung whispered.

Jimin stared fixedly at the floor.

"What am I going to do?"

"About what?" Jimin asked almost pleadingly.

"You know."

Taehyung's eyes were fixed on the ceiling still, but he could feel the tears beginning to trail down the sides of his head. It was a miracle he was able to keep his face so neutral.

Jimin made a soft tsking sound. Then he rose to his feet. He crossed the room, and, after a moment of examining his friend's face, dropped down and wriggled under the covers. Taehyung was as rigid as a block of wood next to him.

"There's been so much crying these days," Jimin murmured.

"Sorry."

"Why do you keep apologizing?"

"I heard you Jiminnie," Taehyung gasped, a furrow knotting between his eyebrows.

"Heard me?"

"Yeah," Taehyung grunted, as though now, even at this point, he were trying to sweep the issue under the rug.

"Heard me crying?"

"No."

"Well, then—"

"In the shower. That day. And."

Jimin was still looking quite confused, but a hint of apprehensive understanding was beginning to make its way into his features.

"And?" he asked, his voice dangling on the precipice of embarrassment.

"Yeah," was all Taehyung could manage, muttered self-loathingly under his breath.

"Oh my god. So that's why you've been so wack for the past week and a half? Because you heard me, heard me jerking off in the shower?" Jimin made a valiant effort to get out the whole sentence smoothly and confidently, but his voice dipped in volume, trembling slightly, when he said the words jerking off. When Taehyung didn't respond, he reached over and gave him a little smack, grabbing his shoulder and shaking it. "Stop it! Good god. Fuck, this is embarrassing."

"You're embarrassed?"

"Why, like, why didn't you just shut the door?"

"Why did you leave it open?" Taehyung accused.

"I didn't think anybody would be home!"

Taehyung was lost for words. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times.

"Listen," Jimin said, crossing his arms and leaning back to stare at the ceiling too. "I'm… I'm really sorry. It won't, it won't happen again."

"Jimin—"

"I thought nobody would be here, I came home early just so that I could…"

Taehyung bit the inside of his cheek, suddenly overcome by images of Jimin so hot and bothered that he felt the need to rush straight home from practice to rub one off. The image was definitely not helping him to calm down.

"It's just so impossible to get a moment alone in these dorms—"

"Jimin!" Taehyung erupted suddenly. "Does it bother you so much that I listened?"

"Well, I don't know—" Jimin halted. "Wait, listened?"

"Um."

Jimin turned so that he was facing his friend once more and lifted himself up on his elbow, staring Taehyung straight in the face.

"Kim. Tae. Hyung. What did you just say?"

"Nothing," Taehyung mumbled.

"Taehyung."

Taehyung was silent.

"Tae, if you don't tell me right now, I swear—"

"I can't stop thinking about it."

That shut both of them up for a good long while.

And then the tears were back.

"Taehyung," Jimin said. "For god's sake, why are you crying?"

"Mmm," was all Taehyung was capable of saying.

Jimin huffed a concerned sigh, one of his hands spreading idly over Taehyung's chest, and then he fell silent, studying his friend. After a moment, he pursed his lips, which had become decidedly lopsided.

"Do you think it would cheer you up… to listen some more?"

Taehyung stopped crying almost immediately. "What?"

"To listen more," Jimin said again. This time, his voice had taken on that beautiful husky quality when he spoke in his lower register. "To me, um, doing things to myself."

As sexual and flirty as Jimin was, apparently saying things like this still made him stutter a little. Taehyung could barely withstand how adorable this was.

"Oh.. okay," he whispered, nodding as though Jimin had just suggested something as casual as cooking ramen for dinner or taking the long way home from the studio.

"Okay," Jimin repeated. After a moment, he shuffled onto his back and closed his eyes. He broke into a quick fit of nervous, breathy giggles, and then the silence was back. This time it was more charged than an electric storm.

"Well, here I… here I go."

Jimin reached down, his hands travelling under the covers until they found the space between his legs. His waistband snapped against his thigh as he fumbled his hand inside his briefs, and then, presumably, he was in position. Taehyung watched in transfixion as his friend's smile fell away, his eyes fluttered closed, and his mouth dropped open slightly, a sharp inhalation escaping from between his lips.

"Ah," he breathed, working himself a couple times slowly under the covers.

Taehyung's shame was falling away, being rapidly replaced with flashbulb notions of I can't believe this is fucking happening and look at his gorgeous mouth, I want to kiss it so bad and I don't know if I can survive how fucking hot this is I may just die right here and now.

"I need this so bad," Jimin confessed, his voice light and heady. "I've been hot all fucking day, just thinking about, mmmm," he trailed off, biting his lower lip.

Taehyung, at this point, was beginning to lose his mind.

"Thinking about what, Jiminnie?"

"Thinking about… ah, fuck it. Thinking, thinking about you." It almost seemed like a relief for Jimin to get this off his chest.

"Me?" Taehyung asked in disbelief.

Jimin nodded, his eyes half-lidded and fixed on his friend's. After a loaded pause, they slid down to Tae's mouth.

Listening had been one thing, but listening and watching? Taehyung realized he was rubbing himself through his pants, and, after another moan issued from between Jimin's lips, Taehyung couldn't take it anymore. He hurriedly slid down his PJ's and shoved his hand into his own boxers.

And then they were just a mess.

Jimin pushed himself up off the mattress, closing the gap between their faces and biting Tae's upper lip, groaning earnestly into his best friend's mouth. Taehyung kissed him back, so deeply that he was pushing Jimin back down onto the pillow, their mouths wide and tangled as the sheets were rapidly becoming, their elbows working vigorously to stay the heat that was threatening to explode between their legs.

"Fuck," Taehyung grunted against Jimin's mouth. He didn't think he could ever get enough.

"Tae," Jimin said, his voice clear as a bell. "Tae, I'm going to—"

"Me too," Taehyung breathed.

"Oh," Jimin intoned. "Ohhhh—"

Taehyung came long and hard, gasping into Jimin's collarbones, dragging his mouth along Jimin's skin as he rode out the final spasms of his orgasm. He could feel Jimin's hips bobbing against his leg in time with his own climax, and despite having just blown his load, Taehyung couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to have those thighs pumping their unbelievable power into him.

Moans turned into gasps, and gasps into sighs, and finally they were chuckling again, holding onto each other in mutual exhaustion.

"I'm so glad to hear you laugh again."

"You too," Taehyung admitted shyly.

"Hey," Jimin said, propping himself up to scrutinize Taehyung again. "Hey."

"What?"

"You're beautiful," Jimin observed.

"Shut up."

Jimin's smile blossomed into a full-on smirk.

"And ridiculous."

"So are you!" Taehyung exclaimed, his voice dipping with mock-argumentativeness. He had nothing cleverer to say.

Jimin reached down and snapped the waistband of Jimin's boxers, taking a moment to glance inside first. "Okay. So I think we just played our first prank on ourselves."

"Tomorrow is laundry day."

"I'm starting to think it's a good thing we never completed the underwear prank," Jimin continued on. "Yoongi would've probably actually killed us if we'd treated his boxers as rudely as this."

Taehyung burst out laughing.

FIN