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“I loved you head over handles
like my first bicycle accident —
before the mouthful of gravel and blood,
I swore we were flying.”
― Sierra Demulder
Jimin’s friends said that it would never last. He’d been anxious waiting to hear what they’d have to say, after only dating Kim Namjoon for a month he’d already taken the plunge and invited him along to bowling night. The opinion had been unanimous.
He’s a really nice guy, but he’s not really your type is he?
It really made him question who he was and his life choices up until that point. If the nicest, the sweetest guy he’s ever met, who he was sure his friends could only approve of was considered a bad fit for Jimin then who would ever be right? They said he didn’t have the chemistry with him that he’d had with his other boyfriends. That, wasn’t Jimin likely to get bored?
But when he thinks of who they’re comparing Namjoon to, he can’t help but be angry with it. Just because he’d been a gentleman, because they hadn’t been in one another’s pockets the whole evening and he’d managed an intellectual conversation. It wasn’t boring. Boring had been all the arguing he’d done with his previous partners. If that was chemistry he didn’t want it. There was a reason they were in the past.
He’d been so unhappy with them. The original blaze of lust had always worn off eventually and left him burnt out, tired and emotionally a mess. Emotionally Jimin always felt like he gave too much and ended up with nothing in return. He was still getting used to being single when Namjoon had fallen into his life. Literally fallen, his big feet and limbs stumbling over Jimin’s bag as he’d lazily sunbathed in the park on a summer’s evening. Namjoon’s iced coffee comically in slow motion had flown through the air, but luckily dropped only spraying out all over the pavement behind him.
The string of sweet apologies and triple checking that he hadn’t spilt anything on Jimin had been so endearing that he couldn’t help but sneakily suggest that Namjoon could make it all up to him by getting another coffee with him. Maybe a tiny bit of coffee had gone on his shirt after all (he didn’t have to know he’d hastily flicked it there himself). He found out the man was a giver in conversation, easily answering anything Jimin threw at him. He discovered he was a music geek, he liked wood carving but he wasn’t very good at it, he’d love a cat but his apartment won’t allow for it and he falls over himself all of the time.
“My friends said I should come with a warning label.”
“Really? What would it warn me of?”
He had leant in, fluttering his eyelashes. A move he’s seen work a million times on countless different men. It was a little shameless, but if Jimin had his own warning label it would probably let people know about it. Shameless flirt.
“That you might end up in hospital, one of my friends broke his leg when we went camping once, which wasn’t strictly my fault but I had left the water running so the ground was slippery...”
His story had continued completely oblivious to the smouldering looks. He’d asked what music Jimin liked (anything he could dance to), if he had pets too (none, but he misses Jojo, his childhood golden retriever) and what the most embarrassing thing Jimin had ever done was (he kept it PG for now and went for the time he fell off his chair in the middle of an exam and needed to get checked out by the nurse). Jimin thought he must have met men like Namjoon before, but it was only now that he could see clearly the appeal. Even if he had to pointedly give him his phone number once their coffees had gone before Namjoon had understood what Jimin had meant by seeing one another soon.
There had been a blush sweep over the older’s cheeks as he happily accepted it.
Jimin discovered in the following weeks of dates that were more than just dancing and drinking at clubs where the music was so loud you couldn’t hear yourself think, that everything he’d been told was true. Through dinner dates Namjoon spoke so passionately about music that he one time accidently knocked a glass of wine all over their food, rendering the pasta almost inedible. He’d bought them ice cream from a stall next door to make up for it. He’d show photos on his phone of failed carving experiments that made Jimin giggle and all Namjoon would do was blush and rub the back of his neck at the teasing before grinning back.
His dimples.
Jimin found he could look at Namjoon’s dimples all day like a lovesick teenager. They were three months into dating and the guy his friends said was going to be too boring for Jimin was being described in great detail to them daily, with special attention given to how handsome he was when he smiled. They now knew the exact placement and how deep his dimples were for each different type of smile. How much Jimin wanted to kiss him whenever he did. How they’d spent all night talking and cuddling on Jimin’s couch and how safe he felt in Namjoon’s arms. They heard about how Namjoon kept waking Jimin up in the middle of the night with horrendous snores that could wake the dead, only Jimin still talked about it like it was funny.
It had been clear to those who knew him well that in a short space of time, it had happened again.
“Wow, you really love him.”
“... I guess....I do don’t I?”
It wasn’t love as Jimin had known it. He hadn’t seen it coming like he usually did. The last guy he fell in love with, it had consumed him to the point of driving him crazy. He’d never felt so overwhelmingly happy, but poisoned at the same time. He’d checked his phone every second of every day, he’d stalked his social media, he spent every night at his and every night he couldn’t in tears because he wanted to be there.
There wasn’t a single part of Jimin that felt poisoned this time. If this was being bored then Jimin wanted to be bored a hell of a lot more.
Kim Namjoon made him happy. Namjoon spoke about the stars he’d been observing the night before with such fondness and gentleness that Jimin wanted nothing more than to become the stars himself. He wanted to be the butterfly Namjoon had taken a photo of just because it looked pretty on a clematis he’d been walking past. He wanted to be the flowering clematis that Namjoon had plucked a flower from and taken home because he wanted to see if he could grow it from the cut for himself and keep such a beautiful colour everywhere.
He trusted Namjoon to look after him with exactly the same love and attention he gave everything else in his life. He’d often turn to face Jimin in bed, wide palms running along bare skin as if he hadn’t become closely acquainted with it half an hour before. His voice low, his eyes creased with affection.
“Tell me what you’re thinking about.”
“That you’re beautiful.”
Namjoon made Jimin honest. The notion of love was turned on it’s head. Love was when you met someone who makes you want to be a better version of yourself for yourself. Where Jimin had enjoyed being chased by his exes, had actively played games with them and flirted with others, he only wanted to bring Namjoon some of the love he bought him back. Taking him sweet treats on days when work had been hard on him and he’d not got round to replying to his messages, rather than getting angry that he hadn’t. He tried to cook dinner for him, which although had been close to a disaster, bland and overbaked, they’d both eaten it smiling at one another as they agreed to never do something this nice for one another ever again. They put together a list of amazing take outs instead, a different one for every mood.
He ran Namjoon baths and sent him covers of himself singing love songs just for him to listen to. Namjoon had set up a playlist just of Jimin singing. Jimin’s heart had never been so contented.
6 months later Jimin had his first trip to ER, thus proving that Namjoon’s list of qualities he’d bared on their first meeting was entirely trustworthy.
Thanks to Namjoon being unable to drive, Jimin had rediscovered the joy of cycling. He hadn’t ridden a bike since his days at school and hadn’t thought of trying again. It reminded him of too many years trying to be cool and fit in that he’d rather forget. Then there was the lycra shorts, which had been an issue. Only Namjoon had a way with Jimin. He only had to describe something he’d done, put it in such a way that Jimin felt like he’d been missing out. It had also helped when he stopped by on a ride once showcasing said lycra shorts and the view Jimin would be getting if he accompanied him.
Cycling was amazing, not only for the view of Namjoon’s thighs. The man knew trails through woodland that Jimin never knew existed, had never had an adventure in before. He giggled like a kid alongside him as they zoomed down hillsides, their feet off the pedals letting themselves accelerate with the wind whipping their clothes up to fly behind them like capes. They made it a competition to see who could make it to the mailbox first. It wasn’t entirely Namjoon’s fault that Jimin had taken his hands off the handlebars in a moment of glee and had gone hurtling into the ground with a mouthful of mud and shins full of gravel.
But he’d still apologised to him like he had the first time they’d met, arms wrapped around him as he’d called his friend to come pick them up. He’d been so careful pressing his shirt to Jimin’s knees to stop them bleeding. And as they sat waiting for the doctor to come and administer the few stitches Jimin needed, he’d kissed the grazed knuckles like Jimin might break. Jimin leant into the touch feeling sorry for himself.
“It isn’t your fault I was an idiot...”
“You’re not an idiot. We both got carried away. Next time, we’ll stick to something safer. Maybe the path around the lake? I was thinking of taking you there at night some time, there’s a super moon next month and the reflection across the water will be-“
“I love you.”
“-so worth it... I’m sorry, did- did you just?”
“I love you. I’ve known for ages and I don’t know why now but...”
“Jimin. Look at me. It’s obvious isn’t it?”
Maybe it had been the adrenaline of the day, the rush of the bikes down the hill, the stomach clenching sensation of hurtling over the handlebars. Maybe it was the smell of antiseptic making him woozy or the warmth of Namjoon’s words and touch that had done it, the words breaking free. It had been so obvious. By the time the doctor came in to patch up Jimin’s knee, he found two grown men crying and hugging one another like they’d been involved in more than a simple cycling accident.
“I’m okay, it’s okay, we’re just...happy to be alive!”
“And loved!”
If they’d seemed over dramatic then what did they care. They were in love, and for the first time in Jimin’s life, love didn’t feel like panic. Love felt like getting your wounds kissed better. Love felt like flying.
Jimin had to be a little smug when he’d told his friends. Especially with his next piece of news. He was going to be moving in with Mr “you will get bored of him within a couple of months.” He was smug and he felt righteously so. Nine months of dating and they were still in honeymoon mode. They still made eyes at one another over take out curry and took showers that lasted double the amount of time they needed to. He wasn’t beyond letting his friends know about it, even if they weren’t beyond letting him know what they thought either.
“Jimin, you’re nicer these days.”
“You’re cancelled from my housewarming party.”
“Hmn. No, he’s still in there somewhere.”
It was to be the biggest hurdle they’d have to overcome as a couple to date. Getting together had been easy, feeling like the most natural thing in the world to both of them. It might have taken them six months to confess their love, but it hadn’t been a surprise either, there hadn’t been butterflies and a sense of dread that one might not feel the same way. The only reason it took that long was because Namjoon was cautious and Jimin had worried that he’d been moving too quickly, for both of them. But once they’d said it, it was like the dam had burst and Jimin now ended every conversation with the affirmation. Namjoon always smiled with his deep dimples and kissed the words into Jimin’s skin until he couldn’t forget it.
It was a similar feeling to moving in together. They had both been thinking of it, but there was caution and a worry of moving too fast, too soon.
Neither of their apartments were really big enough for two so it meant them both moving. It meant something very grown up, selecting an area of the city they wanted to settle in, not just finding a place that was cheap enough and had decent security for a single person. But the excitement had flooded through Jimin as soon as they’d agreed to it and he’d started to talk paint colours and Namjoon had started avoiding the topic. Which in turn made Jimin panic. Had he been too much? Had he missed something out, had he not consulted Namjoon enough?
Had Namjoon after nine months been the one to become bored with Jimin?
It had felt right but, Namjoon didn’t come back ‘home’ to Jimin and tell him about the millions of fantastical things that had occurred in his every day life like he always had done. He poked at his food and smiled lopsidedly so he only had one dimple. It felt sadder and more heart wrenching than none at all, to only see the one.
The decision to move in together had been joint but rather than pulling them together it had started to pull them apart.
Perhaps in a previous life, not so long ago, with a previous partner, Park Jimin would have sulked for weeks and avoided the topic entirely until Namjoon had come to him. He would have looked in the mirror and decided that if this was how it was to end, he couldn’t face being the one to do it and it had probably been his fault in the first place. Only this had been Namjoon and this was Park Jimin in his current life.
It had surprised both Jimin and his friends when he waited through only a week of single dimpled smiles and lost conversation before sitting Namjoon down and asking him to explain what was going on in his head. And it was clear to Jimin that the reason he could do it was because of his steady influence for the last nine months wearing off on him.
He liked to think that he’d learnt how to be a good partner to Namjoon, not just the other way around. He’d learnt the signs of him overthinking. He knew now that when Namjoon had fallen over him in the park so many months before that he’d had a lot on his mind that day and hadn’t been paying attention. He knew the first glass of wine that had soaked through his carbonara had been the result of Namjoon’s mind thinking more about saying the right thing to impress Jimin and less about what his limbs were doing. He knew that the one sided dimple was a sad one that only appeared when something was bittersweet, like when a friends wedding came up that he couldn’t attend but had been achingly happy for them both finding true love.
He’d discovered another different side to the man he loved that night.
He learnt that Kim Namjoon’s parents didn’t particularly accept Park Jimin. That they thought he was a nice man, but they’d hoped for someone else for their son. A woman perhaps. He learnt that even in the most gentle, peaceful souls there’s regrets and anger that can’t always be kissed away. Anger that flared up because he wanted to protect Jimin, because he wanted his family to understand that love wasn’t something that they had a right to decide.
Love wasn’t always the sweetest feeling in the world. Jimin had felt his own lopsided smile of bittersweet love as he listened to the frustrations, to the want to move in but the regret that it might push his family away. And he learnt from himself there that sometimes, love had to come second when there were other important things to consider. And it surprised them both that this advice came from Jimin himself.
Seeing Namjoon determined to move in despite the anguish it was causing him, it had been clear. He’d heard him talk about his family with such warmth before, about how he used to climb through rock pools searching for crabs with his Mama, how Papa Kim would make Namjoon summer reading challenges and give him fake awards to make him feel proud of himself. He’d seen the photos lovingly placed into albums and labelled up. They weren’t bad people. They perhaps needed more than nine months to accept Jimin into Namjoon’s life, and if they took longer than that, then decisions could be made.
“I’m not going anywhere. We don’t need to, Joon, nothing has to change right now.”
“But we were so excited and we shouldn’t have to wait. It was going to be ours, not some crappy apartment without any space–“
“It’s still going to be ours. The whole future is going to be ours if we want it. I’m still excited because waiting doesn’t mean waiting forever does it? It’s more like...a promise, between you and me.”
“Then I promise too. Once they’ve met you, they’ll know what I feel. I promise you.”
When they finally stepped inside their new apartment five months later, Jimin knew they’d done the right thing. Love had been giving Namjoon’s family the patience and time they needed. It hadn’t been without it’s storms, with past aches flaring up for both, insecurities testing the trust they’d built up. But it had been the right thing to do. It hadn’t been love at first sight for the Kim family, but it had grown and finally bloomed into support for their precious son and the person who made him happy.
It meant having both their families round for a celebratory dinner a week later ordered from their favourite restaurant, not just one set. It meant them all discussing the paint swatches he’d daubed on the walls and admiring how the couple had found somewhere with green space peaking over the horizon. Five months more of saving affording them something even better than they’d imagined when they first planned it out.
They planned out their weekends together, with camping trips together whenever they could. Jimin’s friends said he had already hit old married couple stage with just over a year together. Neither Jimin or Namjoon were exactly hardy campers when they went and they had to survive on burnt toast and instant ramen but when they squashed together in sleeping bags to keep warm and woke up to sunrises they’ve never seen before it was worth it. Worth having puffy cheeks from the processed food and the condensation dripping down their necks off the tent when they crawled out of bed. They cycled too, across the green space over the horizon. They avoided more trips to the hospital as much as they could, but always took a first aid kit with them as they never completely avoided more potholes in the road or moments of lunacy letting go and acting like they were five again.
Namjoon’s wood carvings sat on shelves next to Jimin’s growing pottery collection. He wasn’t good at it, he’d say, it’s just a class he decided to take after they’d gone to an exhibition together. And Namjoon will always look at him fondly as he points out that their ‘art’ in that case is well matched, that his own wasn’t good either. A shelf full of ugly sculptures, put together with love.
It’s an unusually warm autumn evening, the windows thrown open letting a breeze run into the apartment when Jimin suggests getting a cat. They’d picked the apartment out partly because it allowed pets, but they’d been so busy settling in that they hadn’t had time to think of what was missing. Namjoon hadn’t waited to even agree.
“Can we have one of those climbing trees in here?”
“...Is that’s a yes?”
“It’s a yes, and she’s allowed to sleep wherever she wants, I hate it when people get pets and it’s like they’re not even part of the family.”
Of all of the reasons to love Kim Namjoon, the fact that his heart is so huge gets to Jimin every time. They plan in a visit to a rescue shelter in a couple of weeks time and spend evenings showing one another photos from the website, talking about which cats would like who the most like it isn’t a foregone conclusion. Jimin already knows he’s going to be the second favourite human in the household. Namjoon is too much of a sweetie and a soft touch, where Jimin believes in a few house rules.
Only, it’s one week later when Jimin walks through the front door to be greeted with a wall of noise and the door to the living room unusually pulled shut. Loud barks echo off the walls with Namjoon’s voice joining in to hush at them to be quiet. Ironically, Jimin thinks Namjoon’s voice might be the louder of the two.
“Joon....?”
“Heeeeeeey....” His hands were behind his back as emerged, the door pushed closed so swiftly behind him that nothing has a chance to poke through and Jimin has no chance to peer in either. It’s as if the surprise is hidden in his hands the way he stands so sheepishly. “So a crazy thing happened!”
“Is there a dog in my living room Joon?”
“Yeah so-“
“Whose dog is it sweetheart?”
“....Ours? If we want her to be. See the thing is, I was passing by the shelter and I thought I’d check in just to make sure that they’re definitely open on Saturday-“
The explanation was taking too long and was completely unnecessary. They’d already checked, six times over to make sure the shelter was going to be open. And by this point Jimin’s heart had already been melting, he was itching to look behind the door to see who was there frantically scratching to get through to meet him too.
“What kind of dog?”
“-And they are which is great, but they were just coming in from their walk and I saw her. This is just a home visit so nothing’s official and, I know we said a cat but you always said how much you liked retrievers-“
“Kim Namjoon, shut up and let me past, I wanna meet the baby!”
“Oh. Of course! Now she’s kinda lively-“
It was enough talking, and within moments of pushing himself past Namjoon he’d been tackled to the ground. She was the most beautiful long haired golden retriever, tail thumping against the wall in happiness as she licked over Jimin’s chin, bounded over to Namjoon to try and knock him over too, before bouncing back to knock Jimin to the ground again.
Jimin who couldn’t stop laughing. Who thought his heart might give in out of happiness watching as his boyfriend attempted to wrangle the dog to his side with promises of treats and love and happiness forever and ever. His boyfriend who looked, for all of his procrastinating at the door, like he was so proud of himself. The worlds most handsome dimpled smile on his face and it was all for Jimin.
“You said you had a retriever when you were little and well – her name is Shine, like the sunshine. She used to belong to this family and their daughter named her, but she’s just too much for little kids and...isn’t she beautiful? I couldn’t leave.”
“You sap. You’re such a sap Kim Namjoon-“ He’d already pulled his arms around the dog, fluffing around her ears calming her down to sit on the floor with him. It felt like she was the size of Jimin. Her eyes were all for him too. “He’s such a sap, Shine, you tell him a sob story and he’ll fall for it every time. You’re gonna love him.”
And she would. Jimin would spend time watching them both as Shine knocked over their tent for the third time since putting it up wondering if Namjoon had simply seen himself in the dog. Both of them were big and clumsy, with their hearts on their sleeves, revelling in life’s simple pleasures.
They curl up together at night, the new addition to their household quickly given permission to sleep on the bed where she took up ninety percent of the space. Jimin sometimes sleeps so horrendously bad that he has to leave to sleep on the couch where he doesn’t have wet noses in his shoulder and loud snores in his ear. It was the funny thing about perfection. It always came at a cost.
But if asked, it was a cost Jimin would pay time and time again.
To some people it had only been a year and a half since Kim Namjoon fell into Jimin’s life. Only. A small amount of time for two people to grow so attached. The people who once said they’d never last now lovingly referred to them as the sort of couple who felt like they’d been together for years. They weren’t quite couple goals yet, but there’s chance. The best part of both of these opinions was, to Jimin, that they hinted at the future. There was still so much more to come, for the three of them, for their families.
And he couldn’t hide his excitement for years more of being boring together.