𝗪𝗲 𝗗𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗧𝗮𝗹𝗸 𝗔𝗻𝘆𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲┃𝗣. 𝗝𝗺✘𝗝.𝗝𝗸

The Unbelievable Reality

Jimin feels his shoulders sag as he opens the door to their shared flat.

The knot of his tie is digging painfully into his throat, and his briefcase is heavier than usual because there's a bunch of papers he still has to go through before he goes back to work tomorrow morning.

When he steps inside, the living room is as silent and dark as he had expected it to be.

Jimin takes off his shoes, his coat, and puts down his briefcase onto the kitchen counter before undoing a few buttons on his shirt so that he can breathe a bit better. The TV is still off - they haven't been watching much of it as of late, and Jimin wonders if he should try to catch up on all the shows they used to watch together.

Mostly cooking shows, because Jungkook had made it his mission a year ago to cook at least three meals a week for Jimin. In all honesty, the first few tries weren't a complete success - Jimin still remembers coming home on a Tuesday night to a kitchen full of smoke and the smell of burnt vegetables.

But every time, he'd still eat what Jungkook had cooked for him and thank him with a soft kiss on the tip of his nose, preening at the way Jungkook would blush and try to hide his smile.

Reality TV, too - because no matter what everyone says, there's nothing better to help you unwind and forget about meaningless work problems.

And to think that that's exactly what has come between them - a work problem. Jimin could almost laugh at the irony of it all.

He spares the fridge a single look before coming to the conclusion that he's too tired to cook anyway. He'll just have a bigger breakfast tomorrow morning and it'd be fine.

He starts to take off his shirt and heads for the couch, where he'd taken to sleeping for the past few weeks, only to realize that it's already occupied.

Jungkook is fast asleep under a hoodie he's using as a blanket, his curled-up figure too big to be entirely covered. Jimin doesn't even remember whose hoodie this is - it looks like one of Jungkook's, but he himself has worn it so many times in the past that it might as well just be his.

Whether it's because he's exhausted from his day at work or because in this very instant he wants nothing more than to press a kiss to his boyfriend's forehead and cuddle up to him, Jimin doesn't know, but he feels his eyes start to prickle with tears.

They used to never sleep apart, at least not if they could help it. Even when they'd get into stupid fights over whose turn it was to do the dishes or who forgot to pay the electricity bill, they'd still lay in the same bed, because Jimin's mother always used to tell him that you should never go to sleep angry.

In the morning, their legs would be all tangled, their faces so close that they shared the same breath, and just like that, everything would be alright again.

But this time, it's just not that easy.

Jimin brushes Jungkook's bangs off his forehead, careful not to wake him. The room is too dark to be certain, but it looks like there are dried tear tracks on his cheeks. He allows himself no longer than a minute, looking at Jungkook's innocent, sleeping face - still so, so young despite everything they've gone through - and then gets up, grateful to be able to sleep in an actual bed for the first time since what feels like forever.