The first thing Jimin sees when he wakes up is fog.
His bedroom window's blinds are open, which is confusing. Jimin always keeps them drawn, because sleep is important – especially during the day.
But this morning the blinds are open, and from Jimin's second floor apartment, he can see fog rolling through the neighborhood. It's hard to tell what time it is. Here in the Pacific Northwest, fog and rain and clouds conceal the sun, disguising the hour as something it's not.
Jimin rolls over, grabs his phone from under his pillow.
A slew of messages await.
JK 🤪 [6:17:03 AM]
hey don't freak out
namjoon hyung wanted me to go to the gym with him
that's why I'm not there
well...you're probably fine keke
but anyway yeah I'm at the gym
call me when you're up
and good morning :)
Jimin squints at the screen of his phone, rubbing his forehead, trying his best to scrape away the layers of sleep and hangover and whatever the fuck else is clogging up his brain like the consuming mist outside. It's nearly nine in the morning now, still too early for Jimin. Too early for anyone who spent the night at a party, honestly. But this is Jungkook. Of course he made an early Saturday morning gym run.
Jimin snorts.
Then, he jolts up in bed. Something clicks, fog clears, clarity blooms in Jimin's thoughts, his memories.
His memories of last night.
"What the fuck."
Jimin immediately calls Jungkook.
He answers on the first ring.
"Annyeong-"
"Jeon Jungkook."
"Park Jimin," Jungkook slings back. His tone is teasing, unlike Jimin's garbled panic. "How do you feel?"
Something in Jimin's chest softens.
"I feel fine," he says. And he does. Jimin rolls his neck, sitting cross-legged in the middle of his bed. For some reason, it feels ginormous this morning. That something in his chest melts completely when Jimin eyes the glass of water and Advil on his bedside table. "How about you? How was the gym?"
"Ah, I feel fantastic," Jungkook says. And he does. Sounds fantastic, that is. Jimin lifts a hand and touches his lips. Remembers the way Jungkook's breath, the way his moans felt on them. "Hyung and I went pretty hard today. Just got done, actually."
"Are you serious?! You texted me, like, two and a half hours ago!"
"Hah, yeah." A pause. It's a little lengthy. "What are you doing?"
Jimin grins to himself and fiddles with the corner of his sheet.
"Well, I just woke up. So."
"Woooooooooooooooow."
Jimin giggles.
"Yeah, yeah. I know, not everyone can be superhuman like Jeon Jungkookie."
The phone's speaker picks up Jungkook's shy little laugh. It's more of a huff. Endearing, cute.
"You wanna do something today?" he asks.
"Yeah, sure," Jimin says. The melted thing in his chest slides down to his stomach, morphs into butterflies. "Do you still wanna do yoga?"
"Hyung, I don't think my muscles can take any more abuse today."
"...no? Not at all? Not even...well."
Jimin can think of about twenty dozen ways he'd like to abuse Jungkook's muscles, but.
"Huh?"
"Nothing, nothing. Ignore me. You wanna just come back over? It looks gross outside, anyway. Let's stay in."
There's rustling on the line, then. Muffled voices, what sounds like a car door open and close.
"Uh, yeah. I'll be over in a few, I'll text you when I'm there. I have something we can do!" Jungkook says. There are more sounds in the background, now. They're louder, clicks and slides and clunks. Jimin's brow furrows. Jungkook literally has a key to Jimin's apartment, why would he need to tell Jimin when he's there? "Just – come down when I text you okay? Gotta go, see you soon."
The line goes dead.
And Jimin's left in Jungkook's tshirt and boxer briefs. Alone in bed, confused and still a little groggy.
"Whatttt the fuck"