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gimmethatagustd · 12 days

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love song (1) | kth + pjm

After a surprise collaboration that shocked their fans, broke records, and earned them a Grammy, salacious rapper V and sweetheart idol Jimin are the duo the music industry didn't know it needed but now can't live without. Fans just have one burning question: Are V and Jimin dating?

○ Pairing: Rapper!Taehyung x Idol!Jimin

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: A/B/O, idols/musicians (not canon/BTS), friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, smut, fluff, light angst

○ Word Count: 7,253

○ Warnings: Suggestive language

○ Notes: This fic was written for the Omega Jimin Fest on AO3. It's inspired by Jungkook's Seven era and the way my soul left my body when I found out he was going to collab with Latto.

○ Post Date: April 29, 2024

○ Masterlist | AO3 Crosspost

○ What was Jai listening to? The series playlist

Series Masterlist

When Seokjin asked Jimin who he wanted to have featured on “Love Song,” he gave his answer before Seokjin could even finish speaking. It was two years ago today that Jimin texted Taehyung, having received his phone number from a friend of a friend. As careful as celebrities are about keeping their contact information away from the public, it often isn’t difficult to poke around for information if you know the right circles. It’s funny how Taehyung’s contact was once saved as “V” in Jimin’s phone rather than “Baby Bear” with an array of emojis.

V was an unexpected choice as a featured artist, which is precisely why he was perfect. Korea’s greatest bad boy, V isn’t known for pushing the boundaries of acceptable behavior in a conservative society — he outright crosses them. Seokjin had been wary of agreeing to Jimin contacting Taehyung about the song only a few months after Taehyung was cleared of a rumored drug scandal ending in a short but well-publicized investigation that found Taehyung innocent of the crime. Whereas most idols’ careers would be sorely impacted by such an experience, Taehyung’s alleged bad behavior only added to his allure.

Was it a risk for Jimin to fraternize with someone like V?

Yes.

Was it worth it?

Two years of friendship and a Grammy later, Jimin knows he wouldn’t change a thing.

Jimin wonders if Taehyung remembers that it’s the second anniversary of their meeting. He shifts slightly and tilts his head to watch Taehyung from where he’s snuggled in his lap, his cheek squished against Taehyung’s upper thigh and the rest of his body curled on the couch under a heap of blankets.

Taehyung is still dressed in the outfit he wore for the final concert of fellow rapper Bibi’s first world tour: a black silk shirt with the buttons undone low enough to show off the multiple thin gold chains that rest against his chest, black skinny jeans with the knees ripped out, and black leather boots. His wavy bangs are pushed away from his forehead, exposing his strong brows and expressive eyes decorated with just a touch of makeup to accentuate his dark irises.

He’d insisted that Jimin not lie in his lap since he’s sweaty from the performance, but Jimin doesn’t mind; he can’t find any problem with Taehyung smelling more like Taehyung. Sweat and adrenaline from the performance heighten Taehyung’s strong alpha scent, an earthy, spicy combination of driftwood and bourbon that makes Jimin’s nose tingle when he breathes in deeply.

They aren’t at Jimin’s apartment because of their friendship anniversary; they’re here because Jimin is recovering from a particularly draining heat, and Seokjin has a bone to pick with Taehyung. Their argument overstimulates Jimin, who is still sensitive and achy.

Likely noticing Jimin’s subtle movements, Taehyung resumes massaging Jimin’s head with his long fingers, weaving through his hair to deeply massage his scalp. Jimin can’t help but lightly purr, the sound quiet enough that only Taehyung can hear it. Jimin knows Taehyung does because the corner of his mouth twitches with the hint of a suppressed smile, and his dark eyes briefly flit down to look at Jimin before darting up again when Seokjin calls his name.

“Taehyung-ah, are you even listening to me?”

Jimin snuggles against Taehyung’s thighs and tries to ignore Seokjin’s yapping. The two men have been going at it for at least twenty minutes, though Jimin has been dozing intermittently. There’s nothing better for Jimin than to come down from a miserable, week-long heat spent alone by snuggling into his best friend’s warmth.

“Yes, hyung, I’m listening. You said I should be more responsible with Jimin’s image.” Taehyung’s literal response is harmless, but the singsongy, immature way he repeats Seokjin’s scolding sets the man off.

“As Jimin’s manager—”

“Hyung, it was a joke.”

“It is my job to protect him. You saying, in an international interview, that your joint album is going to be more explicit than ‘Love Song’—”

“Isn’t inaccurate.”

“—is unnecessary,” Seokjin clips as he crosses his arms against his chest. “People make assumptions, Taehyung, and it’s my job to control the narrative. You weren’t even supposed to say anything about the album at all. Now we have to move up the promotion schedule, which means we’re in a time crunch, and, well, look at him!”

Jimin drags his eyes from Taehyung’s smirk to Seokjin’s scowl and tries not to laugh at how ridiculous they are. They’re talking about him like he isn’t even there.

“I’m fine,” Jimin murmurs as he pushes back against Taehyung’s hand, which has fallen still, trying to coax him into playing with his hair again. “I’m just dehydrated. You don’t need to worry about me, hyung; it’s just the final symptoms of my heat wearing off. I promise I’m okay.”

No one in the music industry can say that their manager is more committed to them than Seokjin is to Jimin. They’ve been together since Jimin’s group, dreamscape, went on an indefinite hiatus three years ago. Jimin’s debut as a solo artist would have never gone as smoothly as it did without Seokjin’s support.

Of course, such care from a manager means that Jimin is fussed over constantly. Once Taehyung was added to the mix, Jimin found himself being pulled in either direction by two men who care for him dearly but don’t always think with their whole brains.

It’s cute rather than harmful, especially when Taehyung fusses. When Taehyung looks at Jimin with kind eyes brimming with affection, Jimin has to beat down the fluttering that kicks up in his chest without fail. It’s just the hormones from his heat, Jimin’s omega being needy, and Taehyung’s alpha being the closest one around. As a beta, Seokjin’s fussing does nothing but warm Jimin’s heart; as an alpha, Taehyung’s fussing makes Jimin feel things he chooses not to think about. It’s just hormones.

With a sigh, Seokjin slumps in the armchair across from the couch in Jimin’s living room. He reaches for his glass of red wine, which sits on the coffee table. Tucking his long hair behind his ear when he tilts his head back, Seokjin finishes the rest of his drink in one swallow.

“Tomorrow is Sunday.” Seokjin avoids Taehyung, choosing to look at Jimin, who barely has his eyes cracked open.

“Mhmm.”

“On Monday, the three of us and Yoongi are meeting with the director to finalize the details for the ‘Hurt So Good’ music video. Taehyung,” Seokjin points his empty wine glass at him, “If Yoongi doesn’t show up on time, I swear to god I will shit a brick.”

“What about the BuzzFeed Thirst Tweets episode?” Jimin asks as he slowly rises from Taehyung’s lap to sit beside him. “That’s on Wednesday, right?”

Irritation muddles Taehyung’s scent into something biting and charred.

“I don’t know why I’m in trouble over what I said when that BuzzFeed episode is gonna be a million times worse than anything I’ve ever done,” Taehyung is whining, but he’s got a smug twinkle in his eyes when he glances at Jimin, as though checking to see if he’s paying attention.

Of course, Jimin is. When Taehyung’s in the room, it’s impossible for Jimin not to give him his undivided attention.

Seokjin eventually leaves, but not without lecturing Taehyung. He puts his shoes on and insists that Taehyung ensure Jimin is well-rested for the remainder of the weekend. It’s out of love; all three of them know this. That doesn’t make it any less amusing to Jimin and irritating to Taehyung.

Taehyung takes good care of Jimin, bad boy reputation or not.

“How was your heat?” Taehyung asks quietly after bidding Seokjin goodbye.

“Awful,” Jimin admits with a sniffle. “I wish I could take suppressants so I’d never have one ever again.”

Heats spent alone without a partner are usually miserable. Unfortunately for Jimin, he doesn’t have a partner, and he has always suffered side effects from being on suppressants. He is particularly plagued by terrible migraines and increased blood pressure, both ailments that negatively impact his career. Since his heats take up so much time, he has to plan his job around them, which is why Seokjin is so bent out of shape over Taehyung prematurely leaking their album news while Jimin is still recovering from the week.

“I’m sorry. I wish you didn’t have to deal with heats either,” Taehyung says with a pout, “Not getting to hang out with you for a week fucking sucks. Though I’m glad you called me this time.”

“We are never talking about that.”

“I think we should.”

Jimin glares at Taehyung’s boxy grin and the evil glint in his eyes.

During most heats, Jimin hides his phone from himself so he doesn’t do anything stupid while his brain is foggy and sex-crazed. Seokjin or Hoseok, Jimin’s former bandmate, check on him at least once a day to bring him food and ensure he isn’t wasting away, so it really isn’t a concern to not have access to his phone.

This time, though, Jimin couldn’t bear to part with his connection to the outside world — his connection to Taehyung — even though he knew he should.

“Taehyung-ah, I miss you sooo much,” Taehyung’s naturally deep voice takes on a higher pitch meant to imitate Jimin.

“Stop it! Stop it right now!”

“I wish you were here, Taehyungie!”

“Shut up!” Jimin nearly shrieks with what little energy he has while Taehyung cackles as he gathers the blankets from the couch to carry them down the hall to Jimin’s bedroom.

Jimin doesn’t know why he reached out to Taehyung during his heat. In the two years they’ve known each other, Jimin has never done something like that – in his entire life, he has never reached out to someone during his heat. He doesn’t even want to think about what that means.

“Don’t worry, Jiminie,” Taehyung bumps his shoulder with Jimin’s as he passes him in the hall, “I wish I could make you feel better.”

Jimin doesn’t know if Taehyung understands how his words sound to an omega fresh off his heat. They sit heavy on Jimin’s chest, quickening his heartbeat and making him pause for a moment, fingertips pressed to the wall to steady himself when he has to take a deep breath. As an alpha, there are many ways Taehyung could make Jimin feel better during his heat.

Not that that even matters. Jimin and Taehyung are friends, and friends don’t help each other through their heats. Everyone knows that. Jimin must have called Taehyung because he genuinely missed him and knew Taehyung could comfort him; that's all.

Shoving his muddled thoughts into the back of his mind, Jimin follows Taehyung to his bedroom and takes the lead once they’ve dealt with the blankets.

It would be embarrassing for Jimin to have an alpha who isn’t his mate in his bedroom at the end of his heat, but, as in many cases, Taehyung is the exception. He follows closely behind Jimin, stepping over dirty clothes and granola bar wrappers strewn about the floor, only stopping when he reaches Jimin’s bed. Jimin thinks Taehyung looks sweet with his hands clasped behind his back as he rocks on the balls of his feet, respectfully waiting to be let into the messy nest Jimin has created in his bed out of blankets, pillows, and clothes.

“You can sit with me,” Jimin offers with a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes because he’s sleepy and a little sad, though he doesn’t know why.

“I’m gross.”

“Shower first, then sit with me.

Jimin sorts through the items arranged in a misshaped circle in his bed, eventually untangling a pair of loose cotton pajama pants and a baggy t-shirt from the pile. He has to resist the urge to lift the clothes to his face and bury his nose in them until he breathes their scent so deeply that it alters his DNA.

“Here.” Jimin tosses the clothing to Taehyung, who catches the bundle with one hand.

“Jimin-ah! I’ve been looking for these!” Taehyung complains as he slips out of the bedroom to retrieve a towel from the linen closet in the hall.

Probably half a dozen more stolen t-shirts are wrapped up in Jimin’s little nest, all of them Taehyung’s. Nothing calms Jimin’s omega quite like Taehyung’s scent. It’s not weird because it makes sense. They’re best friends. If someone’s best friend doesn’t comfort them, are they really best friends?

The bathroom is an ensuite, so Jimin can see Taehyung through the door from where he sits on his bed. He fondly watches Taehyung wiggle his butt as he skips through playlists until he finds the right one to sing along to in the shower, and Jimin decides that it wouldn’t make sense if Taehyung didn’t bring him such comfort.

The rap playlist Taehyung picks isn’t a surprise, but his silk shirt balled up and thrown in Jimin’s face is.

“Tae!”

“You were gonna ask for it anyway,” Taehyung smirks as he reaches behind his neck to unclasp his chains. “And don’t act like you weren’t ‘cause you definitely were.”

Refusing to respond to such an annoying allegation, Jimin rolls his eyes and waves Taehyung away. It isn’t until Taehyung closes the bathroom door that Jimin allows himself to slowly exhale.

Perhaps Jimin has used Taehyung’s clothing to help him through his heat in more ways than just basking in his comforting scent. But that is because of hormones and biology, and nothing more.

When Taehyung returns from the shower, he smells like vanilla. Call Jimin conceited, but he only buys vanilla-scented hygiene products to match his own vanilla scent. His excuse is that he’d prefer not to muddle his own scent with whatever scented soaps he uses, though he could solve that problem by buying unscented items like most people do. That doesn’t seem fun, though, and Jimin would prefer to enjoy life rather than sterilize it.

Lately, sleepovers with Taehyung have become a common occurrence. Preferring to shower before bed, Taehyung often walks out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, smelling like vanilla. Perhaps Jimin buys vanilla body wash, shampoo, and conditioner because he likes his scent on Taehyung.

Perhaps.

It’s a comfort thing, Jimin thinks as Taehyung crawls into his nest of blankets, sheets, and clothes. It’s a comfort thing and nothing more.

Despite typically staying up much later, the aftereffects of his heat make Jimin sleepy. He lies back on his many pillows. Like always, Taehyung follows his lead, tied together by their red string of fate — if Jimin believed in such things.

“All these clothes and stuff are clean, right?”

“I wouldn’t invite you in here if they weren’t, you sicko,” Jimin snaps with a smack to Taehyung’s arm, but all Taehyung does is grin like the little shit he is.

“Just making sure.”

It’s embarrassing, but not as much as it should be. Most alphas can’t handle heat talk; they act like it’s gross or oversexualize it—there’s rarely an in-between. Taehyung is different, though. Heats and ruts are normal, just like every other bodily function and hormonal instinct. Taehyung treats them as such.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Jimin asks as he lifts his arm to let Taehyung snuggle against him to rest his cheek on his chest despite Taehyung’s damp hair wetting his shirt. “Does Bibi have another concert?”

“I’m hanging out with you. Did you already forget Seokjin hyung’s lecture?”

“Just because he said that doesn’t mean you have to listen to him…” Jimin points out with a shrug.

Taehyung is quiet. He drapes one arm over Jimin’s torso so he can reach the hem of his t-shirt. He plays with the inner seam for a while, picking at the stitches and making his fingertips brush against Jimin’s skin. The light touches make Jimin shiver, his body already hypersensitive from the hormonal overload he suffered through for the past week. He wishes his body wouldn’t react so strongly to something so innocent.

“You know I love kickin’ it with you, Chim.”

Taehyung’s voice is too soft, too low. He twists the hem of Jimin’s shirt around his long fingers and doesn’t say more.

“Okay…” Jimin nods even though Taehyung isn’t looking at him.

He can feel himself grow warm from Taehyung’s body heat and each brush of their skin, no matter how short or light. Hormones ruin everything. Jimin hates being ruled by them, even if only for a week every few months.

“Not gonna say it back?”

Whatever unusual softness that had overcome Taehyung is gone in an instant, a cheeky tone replacing what had been too gentle for Jimin’s sanity. Taehyung rolls over so he’s no longer lying on Jimin, allowing the poor omega to finally breathe.

“Go to bed,” Jimin is desperate to pull himself out of the heated bubble Taehyung has somehow created around them. He kicks away his blankets and turns on his side, giving Taehyung his back. “It’s late.”

“It’s not even midnight.”

“I’m tired.”

With a snort, Taehyung ruffles Jimin’s hair. He’s probably trying to be annoying, but it feels like a caress rather than a mussing to Jimin. Long fingers slip through his dyed strands, flopping them from side to side. It feels nice, even if Taehyung is being silly.

Jimin keeps his eyes closed, even when the bed creaks. He feels the mattress dip behind him and Taehyung’s warm breath fan across the curve of his ear.

“Night, Sleeping Beauty,” Taehyung murmurs so deeply that it rouses an ache in Jimin’s stomach. “Set an alarm, okay? We’re getting breakfast in the morning. Don’t make me have to wake you up with true love’s kiss.”

“You don’t brush your teeth first thing in the morning,” Jimin mumbles back and tries to swallow the anxiety-induced bile creeping up his throat. “Don’t put your lips anywhere near me.”

Taehyung pauses for a moment, just long enough for Jimin to hear and feel air rush from his nostrils. It’s the quiet laugh Taehyung is known for, one that’s almost mocking and makes Jimin feel both adored and humiliated when directed at him.

“Sweet dreams, Chim.”

The bed dips and creaks, and the blankets rustle. Jimin holds his breath until Taehyung is settled, then exhales quietly through his nose until he can tell Taehyung has fallen asleep.

Most nights, when Taehyung sleeps over, Jimin lies awake with a restless mind and an even more restless body. It has been two years now, but Jimin still can't meditate away the heart palpitations Taehyung gives him. Some nights, he wonders if his heart would still race if he and Taehyung were both omegas. On other nights, like tonight, he turns to face Taehyung, and wonders when his innocent thoughts about his best friend turned into a burning desire to know if his lips feel as soft as they look.

Hormones, Jimin’s mind whispers. His heart reminds him that Taehyung sleeps over more often than Jimin’s heats come.

Every night Taehyung stays over, including tonight, Jimin waits for sleep to sweep such thoughts into the ocean of his mind, losing them beneath the waves until they inevitably resurface with each new tsunami of emotions.

The cafe Taehyung and Jimin visit in Seorae Village is one of Taehyung’s favorites. It’s a little cafe squeezed between two larger establishments, an art gallery on one side and an ornamental furniture store on the other. Taehyung spends so much time in the French neighborhood that Jimin is surprised he isn’t fluent yet, though he doesn’t miss the opportunity to impress Jimin with his casual French speaking skills as he requests a table for two at the cafe’s outdoor patio.

“It’s so nice out,” Taehyung says, turning his face to the sky like a sunflower seeking the sun, "We should take advantage of the weather. You need a little sun, Chim, after being inside for a week.”

It’s embarrassing to allude to his heat out in the open, even if no one knows what they’re discussing. Jimin quickly looks at the waitress, who guides them out the side door leading to the patio. She doesn’t pay him any mind, likely because she’s staring at Taehyung in awe. Whether she’s admiring his good looks or she’s starstruck, Jimin can’t tell. It irritates him regardless.

The cafe’s patio borders the sidewalk in front of the cafe, separated by a short, decorative iron fence. The location is perfect for people-watching but too public for Jimin’s liking.

“Can we get a table in the corner there?” Jimin gestures to an empty table further away from the sidewalk’s edge.

Most of the patio tables are occupied; being away from the most populated side of the patio would make Jimin feel better. It isn’t that he never goes out in public, and he doesn’t worry much about going out without someone on his staff, but it still feels strange. All it takes is one cocky sasaeng to ruin what could be a relaxing opportunity to spend time with his best friend.

The waitress finally addresses Jimin when she squints at him. Her irritation is uncalled for, and Jimin is taken aback by how openly snappy she is with him.

“I’m sorry, but those tables—”

“We need to sit over there,” Taehyung interrupts the waitress in a steady and unforgiving tone.

Taehyung isn’t mean when he stands between the waitress and Jimin, but his scent spikes enough to make Jimin’s skin tingle when he inhales. If there’s one thing Taehyung is known for beyond his artistry, it’s his expressiveness. Such a quality has gotten him into more trouble than Jimin even knows.

Jimin can’t tell what the waitress is. She’s likely a beta or wearing scent blockers. Despite being petite, she holds her ground against Taehyung, even as she wordlessly beckons them toward the table Jimin wants. Outside appearances are never as reliable as scent when determining sub-genders, so Jimin tries not to make assumptions. Although he isn’t ashamed of his own status as an omega, he isn’t fond of people making assumptions about him just because he’s somewhat short. Hardly short! Very average, actually. It isn’t Jimin’s fault that he is surrounded by tall people.

“You’re being a bully today,” Jimin remarks once they’re seated. He lifts his eyes from the cardstock menu in his hands to see Taehyung grinning across the table.

“I’m an angel.”

“Hmm…”

Taehyung folds his forearms on the table and cocks his head to the side. His sunglasses are pushed on top of his head, forcing his bangs away from his face and making them stick out like a mane. He’s cute like this, all angular and bright, honey-tan skin glowing in the mid-morning sun. Meanwhile, Jimin is sure he looks like a pathetically pale dumpling. Not that it matters. Friends shouldn’t care about how each other looks.

Looking back down at the menu, Jimin picks at the corner edge and lets his eyes glaze over the nonsensical French. Despite being well-traveled and adventure-loving, he doesn’t know what most of these items are. Europe wasn’t usually on dreamscape’s tour schedules, and Jimin still hasn’t done his own world tour yet.

Jimin is just about to ask Taehyung to put him out of his misery and order something for him when Taehyung’s sudden question interrupts his thoughts.

“Are you mad at me?” Taehyung asks, a half-smirk punctuating the question. If Jimin is mad at him, he doesn’t seem exceptionally apologetic.

“No…” Jimin straightens in his chair and clasps his hands between his thighs to hold them in place. If he keeps fidgeting, he might go crazy. “Why? What did you do?”

With a shake of his head, Taehyung laughs, something airy and pretty that makes Jimin feel like he could do well to lighten up a bit, too.

“What haven’t I done?”

“Taehyung.”

“Alright,” Taehyung takes a sip of water and waves away the waitress when she approaches the table. “I thought you would’ve been upset that I spoiled our album.”

“I wasn’t mad…”

Scent spiking with something sweet, like bourbon and honey, Taehyung leans back in his chair and crosses his arms behind his head.

“I knew it. You’re pissed.”

Jimin rolls his eyes. Taehyung is so dramatic, a true celebrity, and a typical alpha. He weasels his way into things, and suddenly, everything is about him. The worst part is that Jimin always falls for it, forever a supporting actor to Taehyung’s main character.

The interview wasn’t as bad as Seokjin makes it out to be. Jimin remembers cuddling in his bed halfway through his heat with his phone rotated and propped against one of his many pillows. He could have watched Taehyung’s interview on the TV, but his body had ached too much to sit up straight. Watching the interview helped his mood a little. It was something to pass the time while Jimin struggled to fall asleep, and he’d been genuinely curious about what had made Seokjin so pissy.

Sitting through interviews is difficult for Taehyung. Whereas Jimin thrives under the spotlight, immediately unfurling the social butterfly often cocooned inside him when he isn’t making public appearances, Taehyung struggles to keep his interest. If the questions are boring, he’s likely to skirt over them or provide answers Yoongi will scold him for later.

Taehyung’s fans enjoy the interviews, even when he gives them very little to work with. Jimin supposes fans’ opinions are all that really matter.

The interview took a hard left turn when the interviewer suddenly asked, “So, V, we heard a rumor that you’re working on a joint album with Jimin. Is that true?”

A small smirk lifted one corner of Taehyung’s mouth, and he exhaled with a quiet, short laugh just barely caught by the mic clipped to the lapel of his black leather jacket before he simply stated, “It is.”

By that reaction, Jimin knew that the rest of the interview would go downhill. Their entertainment companies had meticulously planned their album announcement and preview as part of their pre-order campaign. Taehyung effectively fucked up months of planning in a matter of two words.

“I was annoyed but unsurprised,” Jimin stares hard at Taehyung’s cocky expression. “Seokjin hyung said he nearly threw his phone at the TV when he got the call from our producers saying that you were yapping away.”

“The interview questions were leading.”

“You’ve done a million interviews, Tae. You know how to handle tricky questions when they try to back you into a corner,” Jimin rebukes.

Taehyung just shrugs.

“I’m not an idol, Chim. I don’t have extensive PR training like you.” The wide-eyed, puppy look Taehyung pulls is a mousetrap Jimin willingly flings himself into without considering why.

“What? You are an idol, Taehyung!” Jimin whispers harshly, now leaning forward with his fingers curled around the edge of the table. They shouldn’t be talking about this publicly; the other cafe patrons could easily record them and do damage much worse than Taehyung’s loose lips in interviews.

“I am not. I’m a rapper.”

“So would you say that Hobi hyung isn’t a rapper because he’s an idol?” Jimin challenges.

“All squares are rectangles, but not all rectangles are squares.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?”

Shrugging, Taehyung’s eyes sparkle and remain on Jimin even when the waitress returns to their table. He gives her their food orders, mercifully choosing something for both of them and never once looks away from Jimin’s face.

“Why were you unsurprised? About me spoiling the album?” Taehyung changes the topic once the waitress leaves, and Jimin lets him because he lets Taehyung get away with everything.

“Have you met yourself?” Jimin snorts.

“I’m sorry.” The apology is cheeky and ingenuine but still as charming as anything that comes from Taehyung’s mouth.

“I’m sure you are,” Jimin grumbles between taking sips of water to give himself something to do.

Unease has crept into his bones, eating through his marrow like termites in wood, ever since he called Taehyung during his heat. It was out of character for Jimin and laced with connotations he still doesn’t want to consider. Yet here he is, staring at Taehyung with sleepy eyes and a wandering mind, just to watch how his pretty lips shape his name. It seems that even if he’s unwilling to consider what his strange behaviors mean, they aren’t going to disappear.

“Jimin-ah.”

Blinking, Jimin sets down his glass of water and runs the long sleeve of his sweatshirt over his mouth. “Y-Yeah? What did you say?”

“I asked if you’re excited,” Taehyung pouts from being ignored, “We’ve been working on this album for ages.”

Jimin’s excitement is unfathomable. Joint albums are uncommon, especially between a K-pop idol and a Korean rapper. It took them a year to complete the album — faster than Jimin had expected. It helped that they surprisingly work well together. Where Jimin is an executor, Taehyung is an innovator. Taehyung’s creative energy is boundless, but he needs Jimin to reel him in when he takes off too high in the clouds. Jimin can work a to-do list like no tomorrow, but Taehyung makes sure he sleeps at normal hours and eats regularly. Where one of them lacks, the other nurtures. Jimin doesn’t mind. He quite enjoys grabbing Taehyung by the coattails to yank him back in the right direction, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy being doted on — but only sometimes, of course.

It’s the hormones, probably.

After collaborating on “Love Song,” Jimin and Taehyung played around with the idea of working together on an even bigger project. For Jimin, he’d felt something electric, sparking every frayed nerve in his body, galvanizing him in a way nothing has for a very long time. Not only was working with Taehyung exciting, but Jimin was finally stepping out of the strict rules he’d had to follow under dreamscape — rules that prevented him from showcasing the mature side of himself that his producers deemed inappropriate for Jimin’s fanbase — as if his fanbase isn’t full of adults at this point in his career.

“Are you excited?” Jimin asks with a cheeky smile to match Taehyung’s. They both giggle, and nothing more needs to be said. They’re asking each other stupid questions; of course, they’re excited.

“What is it like working with Jimin? The two of you have had such great success together in the past, obviously, ‘Love Song’ winning a Grammy for Best Pop Duo last year,” the interviewer had asked in what Seokjin now calls “Spoiler Gate.”

“Jimin is fucking amazing,” Taehyung had responded.

The grin he flashed at the camera was boxy and lopsided, so different from the cocky expression he often puts on during interviews. Millions of people had already watched the interview by the time Jimin did. Jimin still feels like Taehyung's smile had been for him.

“Honestly, he’s the reason this album will come out on time. I’m good at ideas, but I can’t commit to anything. I’ll rewrite the lyrics and rearrange song orders. It took me weeks to get my verse for ‘Love Song’ to him because I kept doing it over. Eventually, Jimin was like, ‘If you don’t send me what you have, I’m going to ask Bibi to do it instead.’”

“He threatened you!”

“He fucking did,” Taehyung had laughed, soft and low.

“Bibi on the track would have been a much different song, wouldn’t it have?”

“Ah, Hyungseo is cool. She’s way more knowledgeable about pop music than me, so the vibe of the song would have shifted.”

“Fans, particularly Jimin's fans, were pretty shocked by the explicit version of ‘Love Song.’”

The cocky look returned when Taehyung confirmed, “Our album is going to be worse.”

On Monday, Seokjin insists on taking one of the chauffeured company cars to meet with the music video director, citing the benefits of traveling inconspicuously. Jimin knows Seokjin just doesn’t feel like driving. Either way, Jimin doesn’t mind. The travel time is minimal, and Jimin’s private Twitter account provides him with enough entertainment for the ride. One tweet in particular catches his eye, mainly because Hoseok brings it to his attention through an abrupt text message:

Hobi hyung 🌞 Jim Jam! How was your brunch date yesterday?? Jimin ??? My what Hobi hyung 🌞 [screenshot]

“JIMIN spotted with V leaving a cafe in Seorae Village,” the tweet reads. It boasts a candid and surprisingly high-quality paparazzi photo of Jimin and Taehyung at the little French cafe they went to for breakfast the day before.

In the photo, Taehyung stands beside Jimin, who sits at one of the cafe’s outdoor patio tables. From the angle, it looks like Taehyung is leaning into Jimin’s face with one hand pressed against the table and the other curled around Jimin’s shoulder. Jimin cringes at how terrible he looks. Still drowsy, he hadn’t bothered to dress fashionably and instead pulled on a lazy outfit of an oversized sweatshirt and baggy jeans despite the warm spring weather. Complete with a beanie that hid his cotton candy blue hair and face mask, he thought he’d looked inconspicuous.

Regardless of Jimin’s outfit, it’s obvious that Taehyung was the reason anyone spotted them. He didn’t bother hiding his appearance at all. His striking visuals are enough to make anyone stop to watch him walk down the street, and his short-sleeve t-shirt exposed the recognizable tattoos that decorate both his arms and creep across his collarbones.

The Twitter account is verified, but Jimin can tell it’s a fan account rather than a news outlet or saesang-run paparazzi account. This account is dedicated to providing updates on the dreamscape members. Despite how annoying it is to live in constant surveillance, it warms Jimin’s heart to see dreamscape fans, dreamers, still showing their love for the group. Their love is emphasized by the tweet’s many replies. Curious, Jimin scrolls through the commentary. He expects to find sweet messages from dreamers wishing him a healthy day or asking questions about his album with Taehyung. Instead, what he finds makes his chest feel tight.

“VMIN CRUMBS I AM LIVING,” one Twitter account shouts at Jimin with more exclamation marks than he can count. Another account below asks, “is this them soft launching their relationship?? taehyung i need answers.”

Lightly holding the base of his throat, Jimin takes a deep breath and quickly scans the other comments, finding much of the same. Both his and Taehyung’s fans keep referencing a term Jimin isn’t sure he’s heard before.

“Hyung, what’s a soft launch?”

Seokjin looks up from his phone to frown at Jimin. Admittedly, it’s a weird question, especially to ask without providing context. Jimin isn’t interested in providing context, though. He even twists slightly in his seat to limit the likelihood that Seokjin might see the tweet opened on his phone from where he sits in the backseat with Jimin.

“A soft launch is when a company releases its product to a limited audience rather than the greater public. Remember when dreamscape released the mobile game to select Dreamers before it was made available to everyone? I believe it’s to minimize damage if things go wrong in the early stages,” Seokjin resumes, idly scrolling through his phone, “Hoseok would know more about that stuff. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, nothing,” Jimin says with a bright, close-mouthed smile that puffs his cheeks.

Seokjin puts down his phone again and eyes him suspiciously. “Park Jimin, why do I have a bad feeling about you right now?”

This is what Jimin gets for spending little time on social media. He doesn’t even know why he felt compelled to look at Twitter today. The Buzzfeed episode recording may have something to do with this spontaneous decision, though perusing social media has always been Taehyung’s pastime. Jimin prefers to watch Netflix or play mobile games. Unfortunately, he forgot his headphones and doesn't want to bother Seokjin, who is already cranky from the anticipation of dealing with Yoongi and Taehyung simultaneously.

Clearly, everything has backfired.

“I saw something about soft launching a relationship, but I just didn't really know what that meant.”

It isn’t a lie, though Jimin isn’t above lying about most things. Being an idol provides few opportunities to enjoy a normal life if a few lies aren’t told when needed.

“Ugh, the youth,” Seokjin grumbles with a wave of his phone at Jimin. “It’s a cesspool, the internet. They’re co-opting words and turning them into phrases that don’t make sense! How do you soft launch a relationship? You’re either dating, or you’re not. Humans aren’t products to be tentatively unveiled.”

“Dating?” Heat creeps up Jimin’s neck and spreads across his cheeks. He slides his hand from the base of his throat to press against his sternum. Neither hold is comforting enough to self-soothe.

Why would their fans think Jimin and Taehyung are dating? All they did was go out to eat, something they’ve done publicly a handful of times before. From the tone of the Twitter accounts, it seems to Jimin that fans have had suspicions about his relationship with Taehyung for quite some time.

Jimin That’s really weird… Hobi hyung 🌞 Is it? 🤗🤩 You didn’t answer my question!! 🤔

Frowning, Jimin slips his phone into his pocket and turns toward the side of the car to look out the window, where no alarming conspiracies about himself lie, waiting to assault his mind.

Considering how many dating scandals Taehyung has had, perhaps their fans’ speculations aren’t wholly unwarranted.

Still, Jimin finds it all very strange. He can’t shake the thoughts muddling his brain, even when their car arrives at the corporate office of Kim Namjoon, one of the finest film directors in the Korean music industry. Jimin trails behind Seokjin, thankful he is willing to take over as they navigate the building’s lobby and shuffle into an elevator with Namjoon, who comes down to greet them personally.

“Jimin, it’s nice to see you again. How long has it been? Since dreamscape’s last comeback, I believe?” Namjoon’s handshake is warm like his eyes and fresh peony scent, and Jimin realizes he needs to stop floating along with his head in the clouds and get his Chelsea boots flat on the ground.

“I think so,” Jimin hopes his smile is just as warm as the fellow omega’s. He doesn’t mean to be aloof, but he hasn’t slept well the past few days. Like most things, it’s Taehyung’s fault.

“Are Taehyung and Yoongi here already?” Seokjin asks, and he doesn’t hide his disdain when Namjoon confirms that the other two men arrived a few minutes before Jimin and Seokjin did.

Although Jimin’s livelihood relies on Seokjin and Yoongi getting along, it’s a bit amusing to watch them snap at each other like an old married couple. With his odd mood, Jimin supposes a bit of entertainment could do him some good.

“I appreciate you coming down to my office. I know we covered a lot of ground with outlining and sketches over our video calls, but I think a final rundown before production is necessary to do in person,” Namjoon explains while he holds open the door to a small conference room on the twentieth floor for Jimin and Seokjin.

Namjoon is right; Jimin wouldn’t feel comfortable recording the music video without discussing it in person. Call him an old-school luddite, but Jimin isn’t particularly fond of technology, anyway.

Taehyung and Yoongi sit inside the conference room on one side of a long, rectangular table. It seems they’ve been deep in conversation, though Yoongi immediately stops talking once Seokjin enters the room. If Jimin thought Seokjin’s earlier look of irritation was over the top, the deep frown on Yoongi’s expression is laughable.

Rather than be polite, Yoongi and Seokjin give each other curt nods and don’t bother with proper greetings. Taehyung watches Jimin with bright eyes and a boxy grin, so Jimin pays little attention to whatever their snotty hyungs are doing.

“Hi, Tae,” Jimin greets, fingers twisting the sleeve of Seokjin’s buttoned dress shirt to pull him toward the opposite side of the table.

“Hi, Chim,” Taehyung beams as Jimin slips into the chair across the table from him. “You look well-rested.”

It’s hardly a compliment, more so an acknowledgment that Jimin is staying healthy, but he feels his face heat up with a blush anyway. Silly, Jimin ducks his head and mumbles, “I may have slept in too late this morning,” to which Taehyung laughs.

Jimin wonders what his fans see in Taehyung. The Taehyung that the public receives is so different than the Taehyung that Jimin spends time with. He wonders if his fans would still assume he and Taehyung are dating if they knew what they were like in private.

“So, we can approach this in a couple different ways.”

Namjoon gestures to the front of the room, where a large, flat-screen TV is mounted to the wall. His tablet’s screen is shown on the TV, and he clicks through various sketches and notes that Jimin recognizes as storyboard drafts.

“It’s my professional opinion,” Namjoon continues once he’s found the image he was looking for, “That we keep the choreography.”

“What?” Yoongi rests his forearms on the conference table and leans forward, his thin gold chain sliding across the surface like coins against metal. “I thought we established that Taehyung won’t be doing any dancing.”

Seokjin lets out a long sigh and rolls his head and eyes toward Namjoon to avoid looking at the other side of the table. In their last meeting, Yoongi made it clear that Taehyung would not do choreography in his music videos — or ever, if Yoongi had any say. Which, as Taehyung’s manager, he does, whether Seokjin likes it or not. The argument was that Taehyung has a particular image to maintain as a rapper, especially as an alpha rapper. Rappers don’t dance. Alpha rappers definitely don’t dance.

Jimin isn’t offended by Yoongi’s prejudiced mindset about sub-gender roles and art choices. He just thinks Yoongi is dumb, especially when his thick, oppressive alpha scent clouds the room from his frustration. Sometimes, Yoongi behaves like a stereotypical alpha, inconsiderate about keeping himself in check. Jimin is positive that he could never have a manager who wasn’t an omega or beta.

“Yes, but the song lends itself to choreo, particularly since we can’t shoot anything overtly about the subject of the song,” Namjoon finishes with a shrug.

“Because Jimin is so innocent,” Yoongi accuses.

“Excuse me,” Seokjin jabs his index finger at Yoongi, “The hip-hop scene may be full of grotesque misogyny, but I will not have Jimin in a music video with half-naked women engaging in various kinks just because Taehyung’s verse references fucking someone tied to a goddamn bedpost.”

Smug, Taehyung presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek and smirks as he gently rocks side to side in his swivel office chair. When he notices Jimin looking at him, he winks.

Jimin isn’t one to become overwhelmed, but he desperately wants to change the topic.

“If Taehyung doesn’t want to do choreo, that’s fine. Like Namjoon hyung said, there are plenty of creative routes we can take with this,” Jimin insists with an awkward laugh. He runs his fingers through his cotton candy blue hair and avoids Taehyung’s gaze.

“Actually, I’d be down.”

“You what?” Yoongi twists in his chair to stare at Taehyung, whose smug attitude hasn’t slackened.

“It’s just dancing. It can’t be that hard, right?”

Taehyung is sorely mistaken.

Series Masterlist

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.

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