Chapter Text
Jimin wakes up to warmth surrounding him and stickiness between his thighs.
(This is the beginning of his downfall).
This event is not an uncommon one for him, but the sight of two people in bed with him- is.
Two dark-haired men lie on either side of him, peacefully sleeping. Jimin recognizes their scents before he recognizes their profiles.
He can’t believe he did this to himself.
The events from the night before are hazy, but he recalls a little too much alcohol and Taehyung’s hand on his thighs, his back. It’s normal touching for him, but drunk Jimin had a tough time remembering that, catered with not remembering Taehyung’s longtime serious lover: Jungkook, who sat a few inches away.
He’s in their apartment, in their bed, in the life they share together and-
-Jimin is an intruder, in love with one and overwhelmingly jealous of the other.
Pull yourself together. The chances of seeing the men again are near to none so get the fuck out of there.
He thought extracting himself from their life would be final, the move to New York a pretty big decision. But four years later, Jimin just had to go to that bar, on that night, right where Taehyung and Jungkook were celebrating their engagement .
And fuck, engagement. He’d thought he’d gotten over Taehyung, the jealousy, the want.
Searching for his clothes in the very, very expensive apartment Taehyung shares with his boyfrie- fiance, makes it very clear that he is not.
There’s a groan from the bed and some rustling and Jimin decides that fuck it, he doesn’t need a shirt or his other shoe, and he sprints the fuck out of there.
The sex was fantastic, from what he remembers of it. Jimin got to live out his lifelong dream of making love with Taehyung, except it was more like fucking, and there was a plus one.
Jimin took both of them. And that’s- interesting. He’s always thought Jungkook was hot, but the envy towards him always made Jimin ignore that fact. Clearly, drunk Jimin has no qualms with Jungkook.
He wonders what his purpose was there if it was an engagement celebration threesome. If that’s a thing. Jimin assumes so, considering half the bar was eyeing Jungkook and Taehyung, down for whatever. Jimin doesn’t know if it was the eyes on them that made him slide a little closer to Taehyung, that made him make a little more eye contact with Jungkook while swapping stories.
Because Jungkook and Taehyung are beautiful. They’re the poster child for Korea's couple. And somehow, over the last four years, they’ve become even more gorgeous, hot, stunning, and more. It’s completely unfair.
Taehyung’s hair is longer, darker, his skin as tan as ever. (The moles on his face still so cute, Jimin can’t stand it). It seemed that being around Jungkook has increased his fashion sense, Jimin spotting the numerous Gucci labels on his clothes before, you know, he tore them off of Taehyung’s lithe frame. And despite his unapproachable outward appearance, he still lights up the room with his smiles.
Jungkook is still attractive, more muscular now and less shy. The baby-faced boy he remembered is now a baby-faced man, capable of getting married. (Capable of taking care of Taehyung).
They suit each other, those Alphas.
Then there’s Jimin- short, stubby fingers, chubby cheeks, can’t fucking hold down a relationship for the sake of his life, completely, irrevocably: omega.
He introduced them, too. It’s the biggest regret of his life. To think, Jimin had been considering dating Jungkook, if only to get over Taehyung. And then Jungkook fell head over heels for Taehyung’s boxy smile, just like Jimin did. Taehyung wasn’t far behind, nights and nights of him cooing to Jimin about Jungkook’s anything and everything.
Then they got together, and that- that was the end of Jimin in both their lives.
He’s tired of hobbling down the sidewalk, dying to call Yoongi, and most importantly , catch a ride in his car. He reaches into his pocket, digging for his phone.
It’s not there. Fuck.
“Fuck.”
The events of the day certainly sum up the failure that is his life.
Park Jimin: lonely, one shoe, no shirt, no phone, lost in the middle of New York, had the fuck of his life with the love of his life and his accompanying fiancé.
It couldn’t get any better than this.
“Park Jimin!”
He takes that back.
It's Taehyung, running towards him in all his long-legged, tan skin, beaming smile, glory.
And then there’s Jungkook, trailing behind him, hands stuffed in his pockets, not a care in the world.
“Fuck,” he says again.
He’d run but it would end up as more of a frantic hobble, and then it would be obvious Jimin is trying to flee the scene. Taehyung’s not far from him, waving his hand as if Jimin hasn’t noticed him.
“He’s engaged, Park Jimin. He’s engaged to the fiancé who you fucked. You all fucked,” he mutters to himself.
(He’s fucked).
Taehyung catches up to him, not even breathing heavily. God, he’s even handsome at five in the morning chasing down a hookup.
“You forgot your stuff,” Taehyung says, gesturing to the plastic bag clutched in his hand, presumably full of a shirt, a shoe, and a phone.
Jimin takes it with a grimace. “Thanks.” He slides the smelly shirt over his head without closely examining the state of it, and stuffs his foot in the other shoe.
Taehyung beams. “No problem, you must still be pretty drunk to forget all that.”
Jungkook’s watching Jimin from a few inches behind Taehyung, eyes boring into him. Jimin’s always felt wary around Jungkook. He looks at Jimin like he knows all his thoughts and desires. One desire in particular.
Jimin forces out a laugh as he speaks, “Yeah must be.”
“Did you have fun last night?” Taehyung asks, getting straight to the point. He’s always been blunt that way, but Jimin’s not used to it after four years of no contact.
Jimin just nods, grasping for something to say. Taehyung’s presence has always made him comfortable, years of sleeping the same bed, growing up together. But he never ventured the line into more than friends. He doesn’t know how to act.
Jungkook steps forward, saving him from further embarrassment.
“We had fun too,” he says, looking straight at Jimin. Jimin looks away.
“Yeah! We did!” Taehyung nods enthusiastically, curling an arm around Jungkook’s waist. “I’m so glad we ran into you, Jiminie. It’s been so long!”
Jiminie. His heart aches. No one but Taehyung has ever called him that.
“It has been,” Jimin agrees, anything to get out of the situation. “Sorry I haven’t kept in contact.”
He doesn’t try to explain, nor does he owe them an explanation. It’s his life. He can do what he wants with whom he wants.
“That’s okay,” Taehyung responds, voice soft as he continues, “You’re here now.”
Jimin’s throat constricts. He’s never been worthy of Kim Taehyung's presence, his friendship. After sleeping with him and his fiancé, he feels even less worthy. He feels dirty.
“I put my number in your phone,” Taehyung continues, despite silence from Jimin. “I’ll call you so we can catch up some more.”
“How did you know my password?” Jimin asks, puzzled.
Taehyung gives a small smile. “You’re the same as ever, Jiminie.”
He guesses he is the same as ever, if one smile from Taehyung is enough to send his heart soaring.
“Yeah,” Jimin says back. “Yeah, I am.”
“Well. Do you need a ride or anything?” Jungkook chimes in.
Jimin looks up. On one hand, yes, he does indeed need a ride, on the other hand , Jungkook looks like he’d rather be anywhere else but here.
“I’m good, thanks for the offer,” Jimin says, starting to back away. “I’ll see you guys around. And-”
He swallows around the lump in his throat.
“-congrats on the engagement. I always knew you two would last.”
And that’s it. Jimin waves, turns around, and doesn’t bother looking at their expressions. He fast walks out of sight and around the corner. No one bothers to call out to him.
It’s a good start to Jimin’s week. He really , really wouldn’t have it any other way.