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theharrowing · 2 years

Text

With You Always

When Taehyung dies tragically and winds up stuck on earth, he decides to watch over Jimin—his best friend, and the person he loves more than anyone in the world. Concern for his grieving best friend turns to jealousy as Jimin begins to move on and meet new people, and Taehyung's once passive presence becomes more and more dangerous.

💔 Taehyung x Jimin

💔 word count: 13k 💔 dead dove, major character death (ghost taehyung), noncon, hurt/comfort, horror, slash, explicit smut, nsfw, 18+ 💔 warnings: 🕊 dead dove, grief & mourning, masturbation, recreational drug use, jealousy, voyeurism, mutual masturbation, jimin in a crop top with pink hair, ouija board use, haunting, poltergeist, fear, taking advantage of a drunk person, ghost sex, non-consensual somnophelia, oral sex, mental breakdown

💔 written for the Ardour: Dead Dove Fest!

💔 thanks to @neoneunnajimin for beta reading! moodboard created by the mods at the Ardour: Dead Dove Fest (text added by me with permission.) 💔 posted oct. 2022

💔 notes: i cannot stress how dark this story is. please read the warnings and don’t interact with this story if you are sensitive to any of those topics!!! i do not condone the actions in this fic; it is a work of horror fiction.

나는 날 잃은 걸까 아니 널 얻은 걸까

Taehyung's death affected everyone pretty hard, but no one more than Jimin.

Since they were kids, Taehyung and Jimin were inseparable. They did everything together, often hand-in-hand, taking on the world with wide, curious eyes and open hearts.

As teenagers, they were even closer, dealing with the awkwardness of puberty together and making various life pacts, including a pact to wait until college for their first kiss, a pact to wait until college to have sex, and a pact to go to the same college and live together.

For as long as he could remember, Taehyung harbored feelings for Jimin, and he thought from a somewhat young age that Jimin felt the same. But aside from Jimin coming up with those kiss and virginity pacts and other small but possibly innocuous tells, the topic never came up between them.

Taehyung always had the inkling that Jimin wanted them to put those events off to share them with each other, and he hoped it would be something they could explore—if they really were, in fact, on the same page—in college, as planned, when the two of them were away from home and didn't have to worry too much about the pressures of being caught by their parents.

But then Taehyung died a month after high school graduation, and so did his chance to tell Jimin of his true feelings.

The accident was pretty bad.

It was a gorgeous summer day. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Taehyung drummed his fingers against his steering wheel to the beat of an old jazz tune as another car somehow wound up skidding sideways into his lane, flipping him several times off the road and into a deep ditch. There were no survivors at the scene, and by the time emergency personnel arrived, both mangled cars had caught fire.

Even from the moment of impact, Taehyung didn't remember the accident. One minute he was alive, driving in the countryside on his way back to the city and the next, he was floating above the scene, watching as police attempted to barricade the area and keep others away from the wreckage.

It was surreal, and Taehyung spent a considerable amount of time thinking he was dreaming and that at any moment, he might wake up. But then, as time went on and his body was taken away before the site of the accident was gradually getting cleaned, Taehyung realized it wasn't a dream.

At first, Taehyung couldn't figure out why he stayed on earth rather than continue on to some kind of afterlife. Sure, he didn't spend his life necessarily believing in any specific type of afterlife, but he always assumed there would be something. Or even nothing.

But that—floating with an aimless feeling while wearing the same beige oversized button-up short-sleeve tucked loosely into the front of wide-leg brown slacks—that just felt strange. Taehyung ran a hand through his long, wavy dark brown hair and felt as the strands pushed back from his forehead and fell into place. He couldn't quite figure out the extent to which he existed and didn't, feeling both weightless and solid, responsive to his own physical touch.

Taehyung wondered if his new existence really was like the movies, where ghosts would hang back on earth to try to solve any unfinished business they had, but ultimately that notion seemed pretty stupid to Taehyung. Life, and by extension, afterlife wasn't some drama. And anyway, how would he be able to finish anything? The only thing he left unresolved was his feelings for Jimin, and it didn't seem as if Taehyung could be seen by humans as they drove straight through him on that dark country road.

But that didn't stop Taehyung from trying. Slowly, he made his way into the city the way he would have gone if he had driven. He walked down busy streets and through residential neighborhoods, allowing the night to fall around him. And when he made it to Jimin's apartment as the sun began to break over the horizon, Taehyung went straight through a familiar building, through a familiar front door and found himself standing in a familiar living room.

Taehyung hadn't been in a rush that night because he wasn't sure Jimin would be home. Perhaps, he thought, Jimin would have been at a hospital or a police station desperately searching for answers about his dead best friend the night before. Perhaps Jimin would have been asleep as Taehyung arrived, exhausted from the anguish of losing a best friend. But a sniffle coming from Jimin's bedroom confirmed that he was home and that he was not asleep.

"Jimin?" Taehyung called out, but his voice was wispy in the air, hanging around him in a manner that didn't seem to echo out to reach the ears of the living.

Taehyung approached Jimin's room to find him curled on his bed, crying. He was still wearing a black long-sleeve henley shirt tucked into blue jeans that Taehyung assumed he had worn the day before. Clutched in Jimin's arms was a stuffed bear that Taehyung had kept since he was a child. A stuffed bear that Jimin could only have gotten if he had visited Taehyung's family after the accident or if someone had brought it to him.

The sight of Jimin's body wrapped tightly around the stuffed bear sent a chill through Taehyung, and all he could do was stand and watch as his best friend—as the boy who he loved more than anyone in the world—cried and cried and cried.

"Jimin," Taehyung tried once more, but the sound didn't reach him.

Taehyung suspected it might be useless to attempt to touch Jimin, so he stood still. No other humans were alerted to his presence as he walked that night, so he assumed Jimin also wouldn’t be. Finally, when Jimin had cried himself to sleep, Taehyung curled up atop Jimin's bed and watched him through the morning.

Over the course of the few days following his death, Taehyung discovered that he could somewhat interact with objects in the living world, using his energy to move a curtain or a door just a bit, as if there was a strong breeze. He had considered trying to get Jimin's attention, but with how distraught his best friend was, he felt it was better off to not do anything to shake his fragile mental state.

Jimin wasn't getting out of bed much. He wasn't feeding himself more than once a day, and he didn't shower until the morning of the funeral. And although attending his own funeral felt surreal, Taehyung stayed by Jimin's side.

On the bus to the train to the bus to the hospital, Taehyung followed along, eyes on Jimin, who wore a black suit and tie with a white undershirt and had his short dark hair brushed but unstyled. Taehyung told Jimin over and over that he was there and that Jimin was not alone, that Jimin would never be alone again, but Jimin fell to his knees in front of photos surrounded by flowers and candles, appearing as if he felt more alone than ever, and he cried until his eyes were dry. Taehyung couldn't have said with any certainty who else attended his funeral because he never took his eyes off his beautiful, heartbroken friend.

"I'm here, Jiminah," Taehyung muttered softly. "I won't ever leave you."

Sometimes Jimin would wake up in the middle of the night screaming and sobbing. He would grab onto the stuffed bear that belonged to Taehyung and hold it close, begging for answers, begging to know why Taehyung was gone. Taehyung would sit beside Jimin and reach a hand out, almost touching but always pulling back at the last second, never risking knowing whether or not they could touch—never wanting to face the ache that would accompany fingers passing through fingers like a whisper in the wind.

It hurt Taehyung to see his best friend so upset. And as weeks went by where Jimin didn't seem to improve, Taehyung began to worry about his physical health. Someone needed to be helping him, but Jimin didn't reach out to anyone, and he continued to mourn heavily.

When school started a few months following the accident, Jimin decided that he needed to push forward and attempt to have a normal life. It filled Taehyung with affection and pride, knowing Jimin was getting out of bed and trying to grieve in a more healthy manner.

"You should be here with me, Tae," Jimin would say to himself in the mirror as he fixed his hair—which was becoming overgrown—and stared into his sunken eyes. "You should be starting college with me too."

"I'm here, Jiminah," Taehyung would always whisper back. "Even if you can't see me...even if you can't feel me...I'll never leave you."

It wasn't easy at first. Jimin would have outbursts in public, moments where the distractions of school and socializing would lull, and Jimin's mind would seem to allow itself to wander back to Taehyung. In these moments, Taehyung always wished he could hold Jimin and tell him it would be okay. Taehyung knew that, ultimately, Jimin would be fine and that he just needed time to heal, and with each new day he hoped that the healing would come soon.

"I'm feeling a little better today, Taehyungah," Jimin says into the mirror with a smile. It isn't a smile that reaches his eyes, but it is inching closer these days. Jimin speaks aloud to Taehyung often on the off chance he is listening, reasoning that Taehyung always spoke to his angel, so maybe now Taehyung has taken up ranks as Jimin's angel.

And, of course, Taehyung is listening; Taehyung hasn't left Jimin's side. Everywhere Jimin goes, Taehyung follows. To school, to the market, he's always there.

"It's been about six months since that day, and I'm...I'm still in shock, and I don't know how to go on without my best friend, but I'm doing my best, and I think you'd really be proud of me."

"I'm so proud of you, Jiminah," Taehyung responds with a kind smile, standing behind Jimin and watching him through the mirror.

Jimin's gaze turns down, and he fidgets with his fingers, rubbing them together anxiously. "I miss you so much," he whispers.

"I miss you too."

It's not entirely true that Taehyung stays by Jimin's side everywhere. Over the last six months, Taehyung has done his best to give Jimin privacy when he's in the bathroom, when he's changing, and more recently, when he jerks off.

The first time, it takes Taehyung by surprise, and he nearly falls out of the bed. Jimin runs his hands over his chest, stopping to dance his fingers over his nipples through his thin nightshirt. He lets out a soft exhale, and Taehyung lets out a loud gasp and stares wide-eyed at his best friend before he realizes he should very much not be watching this.

One of Jimin's hands trails down with his fingers dancing over his crotch, and Taehyung's vision falls to discover a sizable tent in his pants, pushing another gasp from him as he backs out of the bed quickly, arm catching on the bedside lamp and knocking into it. Jimin's hands halt, and he looks up, eyes landing directly where Taehyung stands. But, of course, Jimin can't see anyone there.

"Fuck," Taehyung spits under his breath. He's been so careful not to alert Jimin to his presence, worried he might get scared, and now here he is, carelessly bumping into shit.

But it doesn't deter Jimin, whose eyes move to the window that is opened a sliver and seems to write it off as wind being the culprit. Jimin's fingers continue to tease himself over his clothes, and Taehyung spins on his heels and leaves the room, running partially through the wall when he can't reach the doorway fast enough.

If Taehyung could sweat, it would have coated his neck and forehead in a thin sheen, giving a chill to his once warm form. He breathes deeply and runs his hands over his face and down his neck, and walks over to the small brown sofa, sitting with such a force he nearly sinks through it. As Jimin's gasps turned to whimpers, Taehyung curls up on the cushions and puts his hands over his ears.

The longer Taehyung continues to exist in this form, the more he's able to interact with things, honing the energy he exerts to control various objects. Before, it was enough to rest atop Jimin's bed rather than sink into it, but now he can switch off the bedside lamp and pull Jimin’s blanket over him when he stumbles into bed from a night out with his new friends and falls against his mattress in a slump. Still, he’s careful to never try and touch Jimin.

Taehyung's...body...? Or whatever his form is...is also beginning to respond. As soon as Jimin's fingers begin to explore his body, Taehyung feels a shift in his energy and a tingle in his cock. He fights the urge to touch himself from the sofa whenever he takes refuge, locking his hands tightly over his ears. He will not jerk off to his best friend jerking off, even if he’s in love with that best friend. That crosses a line...right?

Taehyung does not like Jimin's new friends. They're all older than him, they drink way too much, and one boy in particular—the one with a crooked smile and sharp feline eyes—he likes to get a little too close to Jimin, especially with alcohol in their systems.

Taehyung also does not like how Jimin has changed his appearance to hang out with these new friends. Although the tight tee shirts, even tighter skinny jeans and black leather boots flatter his figure, Taehyung thinks he just looks like he's trying too hard to fit in. His hair is short again and parted neatly over his forehead, and he's begun wearing rings and earrings. The Jimin who Taehyung knew never cared so much about fitting in or looking this good, and he certainly never wore all black, from head to toe.

It's a Thursday night—a school night—and Jimin is at some shitty nightclub with four guys, all older than him by two or three years, and he's throwing back shots. The sadness in his eye that Taehyung had gotten so used to—that he wished for months and months would fade—has all but been replaced with mirth, albeit glazed over and somewhat absent.

Jimin had fussed extra hard with his hair before meeting them here, and he immediately gravitates to the one who touches him so much while Taehyung stands with his arms crossed over his chest and glares. Sure, this Min Yoongi boy is pretty, but what does he have that's so god damn special?

Taehyung watches as the night progresses, and Yoongi's hand caresses the small of Jimin's back. He watches as Jimin leans in a little too close to talk to Yoongi over the loud music, and he watches as they sneak away from the group and out into the alley for a smoke.

Jimin doesn't smoke, but of course, he accepts the joint because Yoongi offers it to him. Handsome, charming fucking Yoongi with his combat boots and his bleach blond hair. Yoongi, with his dangling silver earrings and his black eyeliner, who leans in close—too close—as he lights the joint that sits between Jimin's perfect lips. Too close as his mouth tugs into a smirk while Jimin coughs through his first inhale of smoke.

If Taehyung had a heart, it would surely be pounding. He grips onto his hair and tugs at the strand as he watches Yoongi gently touch Jimin's cheek and mumble, "Inhale slowly and hold the smoke in."

If Taehyung had a stomach, bile would surely rise into his throat as Yoongi leans in, one knee dipping between Jimin's legs as he mutters, "Now blow," and connects their lips, taking the smoke from Jimin's mouth into his.

Taehyung watches in horror as Jimin giggles and he grabs onto Yoongi's red flannel shirt gently with his fingers to pull him closer, slotting their lips together for a real kiss. Jimin's first real kiss. Taehyung turns away and shakes his head, trying to focus on anything but Jimin's lips and his sounds and his body, pressed against some boy in a fucking alleyway of all places.

And, for the first time in six months, Taehyung leaves Jimin's side.

It takes five and a half months for Jimin and Yoongi to get into a relationship and ultimately break up, and in those five and a half months, Taehyung is in pure agony. He can’t help his outbursts of anger and jealousy as he leaves the room to give the two of them space. Eventually, his outbursts lead to him leaving the building, sometimes going as far as to walk his anger off by leaving the city altogether.

Jimin waits a whopping two weeks after the joint in the alleyway incident to lose his virginity, and Taehyung can’t stop thinking about how it should have been him. The first kiss, the first time making love, the first time falling in love, all of that should have been him.

And now, five and a half months after that stupid first kiss Jimin cries into his old teddy bear and wishes Yoongi would stay. Taehyung hates the bleach blond even more because Taehyung knows that if he had been all of Jimin's firsts, he wouldn't be in this position. If Taehyung had been all of Jimin's firsts, he would also be his last.

Wanting to be close to Jimin and comfort him, Taehyung sits down where he always does, on the side of the bed Jimin never sleeps, and this time, the mattress dips. Jimin's eyes flutter open, and he stares at the bed beside him, eyebrows knit as if he noticed, but then he sighs and closes his eyes again, shaking his head.

"Jimin," Taehyung tries again, for the first time in almost a year, but his voice doesn't carry, and Jimin still doesn't hear him.

There are times when Jimin still talks aloud as if he knows Taehyung is with him, telling him things. He'll stand in the mirror, coifing his hair and tell Taehyung that he got an A in his anatomy and physiology course despite how difficult it was, and that he's proud of himself for already feeling better about the breakup.

Taehyung wonders if, should he make his presence known to Jimin, it would actually be something Jimin would invite, or if he would be too afraid and stop talking to him. So Taehyung does his best to keep still and quiet, and he whispers softly to Jimin that he's proud of him and that he loves him so much.

Sometimes Taehyung wonders if he could reach out to touch Jimin, whether he actually would? He's never tried to touch another human, but what if he tries to hone the energy and touch him, the same way he puts his energy into gently inching Jimin's glass away from the edge of the table when he's not looking because Taehyung worries it'll knock it over. What if he tries to find new ways to comfort his friend?

During the summer, Jimin works at a nearby cafe. He seems to really enjoy the job and gets along nicely with his coworkers, and Taehyung finds himself standing back a little further, watching Jimin from afar as he interacts with strangers while never hovering too close.

Taehyung loves watching the way Jimin's smile reaches his eyes, genuine and sweet, as he talks to others. And although Taehyung knows it will eat at him, he hopes that Jimin really does find someone nice and sweet to love. Someone who always makes Jimin smile like that—the way Taehyung would make him smile if he could.

As customers filter through day after day, some becoming regulars who chat with Jimin a little more and get to know him a little better, Taehyung watches soft blush paint Jimin's pretty round cheeks, and he wonders if any of those people might become regular facets in Jimin's life.

But none of them ever do, and for the time being, Taehyung decides he doesn't mind keeping Jimin all to himself for a little while longer.

On the first anniversary of Taehyung's death, Taehyung's family throws a gathering for friends and family to come say some words and have a meal together. Taehyung—admittedly—hasn't visited his family much since his death. And although he'll accompany Jimin to their house if he decides to go, he feels weird about it.

Over the course of the year, Jimin has really bounced back from his grief and has seemed less and less affected by Taehyung's death. But today, he can hardly get out of bed. When Jimin finally does roll off of his mattress, he sits in the shower and cries.

Taehyung enters the bathroom slowly, finding Jimin curled in a ball with his forehead against his knees. He squats beside the edge of the tub and bites his lip, wanting to console his best friend. Taehyung hates seeing him like this, even if there is a small part of him that feels grateful to not be forgotten.

For the first time in a year, Taehyung reaches out to touch Jimin. And for the first time in a year, he makes direct contact with him.

Taehyung's fingertips brush over Jimin's shoulder, and Jimin jumps, gasping as his eyes fly open and he stares straight through Taehyung. There's even a moment—a split, fleeting moment—where Taehyung thinks Jimin might actually see him. But Jimin looks around the room, searching high and low for any source of the caress while Taehyung sits, hand retracted but still suspended as he watches Jimin with wide eyes.

When Jimin starts his second semester of college, Taehyung begins to hang back and stay at Jimin's apartment some days. He's not a huge fan of the courses Jimin studies, and he would rather stay in his bed, surrounded by his sweet floral and citrus scent, with a lingering hint of musk.

There's a part of Taehyung that worries that Jimin will meet someone in college to bring home, and Taehyung will have a repeat of dealing with his relationship he had with Yoongi, with months and months of them fucking and giggling while Taehyung has to leave and fight to get that image out of his mind.

But it's not as if Taehyung can stop Jimin from doing whatever he wants to, so he hangs back and gives Jimin his space. Despite everything, Jimin is the one person in the world who Taehyung loves more than anything, and he wants him to be happy.

Some nights when Jimin sleeps, Taehyung reaches out and moves the hair away from Jimin's forehead. Sometimes Taehyung traces the edges of his fingers down the soft slope of Jimin's cheek, reveling in how soft and warm Jimin is.

"I love you, Jiminah," Taehyung mutters softly. "I'll always love you so much. Please never forget me."

Taehyung stops giving Jimin privacy every time he showers. He can't help but gaze longingly at the silhouette of Jimin's taut body through the faintly transparent shower curtains.

Jimin cares for his appearance more than ever, taking dance classes and watching what he eats, and Taehyung can't help but stare at the round slope of his ass that curves deliciously into lean yet muscular thighs. The visual has Taehyung's cock desperate for attention.

Taehyung can't exactly cum; as a ghost, he has no need for body fluids. He couldn't explain why his cock gets hard, nor why, if he strokes it just as he would as a human, he feels sensation and satisfaction, ultimately reaching a crescendo that feels as close to an orgasm as he can remember. As far as he can tell, it feels the same as before; he just doesn't ejaculate.

It's in the doorway of Jimin's bathroom, one hand gripping onto the wooden frame as Taehyung fists his cock, stroking fast and squeezing tight as he reaches his high and his legs tremble beneath him.

Before him, the silhouette of Jimin shows one foot lifted on the edge of the tub, and he's fingering his ass while jerking off. With his head tipped back, the column of Jimin's neck can be made out, and as he gasps and whines, bringing himself close to orgasm, Taehyung can't hold his in any longer.

How Taehyung would love to be the one to make Jimin cum. Slowly unravel him with his fingers while sucking Jimin's cock into his throat. He bets Jimin's cum is just as sweet as the sounds that fall from his lips.

Taehyung hasn't had an outburst in nearly a year. Ever since Yoongi broke it off with Jimin, he hasn't had a reason to storm through the walls and walk off his jealous anger. Taehyung prides himself on being a good friend and staying close. He tells himself it's what Jimin would want.

And with his newfound love of watching Jimin while he showers and enjoying their little mutual masturbating sessions, Taehyung feels even closer to his best friend than ever before.

Just as Taehyung has settled comfortably in the routine of Jimin going to school and coming right back home to study and be alone over several months, Jimin decides to switch things up, throwing Taehyung's entire strange existence off balance.

Since the breakup, he hasn't been spending time with anyone in that old friend group, to Taehyung's great relief, and although he sees Jimin acting friendly with others at school on the days when he does follow him to class, he's noticed—with great contentment—that Jimin doesn't seem eager to make too many friends.

Jimin, ever the perfectionist, has always been one to pour himself into his studies. Perhaps that's why he and Taehyung always remained such a tight unit with little outside interference; they never really had room for another person.

But tonight, Jimin doesn't come home. And Taehyung begins to worry.

It's not as if Taehyung can go off looking for him. If Jimin isn't on campus, he could be infinite other places, as far as Taehyung is concerned. Even if Jimin is on campus, it's not as if he'd be so easily located.

Taehyung paces the apartment and tries to calm himself down. He tells himself that Jimin is safe, that Jimin is unharmed, that Jimin will return, and he takes his place on the couch to wait. He just has to wait a little while longer, he tells himself, and Jimin will return.

And eventually, Jimin does return. Several hours after he usually comes home, Jimin walks through his door smiling into his phone, so distracted by whatever is on the screen that he takes longer than usual to toe out of his shoes at the entrance. So distracted that he pads over to the couch without looking up and lets his shins hitting the edge of it be his cue to twist and flop his body down.

Taehyung sits beside Jimin in disbelief and looks over his shoulder to find out what he's smiling so much at, and he can't help but feel a tinge of discomfort where his guts would be as someone named Jeongguk confirms he's open to hanging out at 8PM tomorrow night.

Taehyung hasn't had an outburst in nearly a year and a half, and tonight, he's reluctant to follow Jimin to his date. He doesn't want this Jeongguk character flaunted in his face, especially if this guy is anything like the last one. Taehyung questions the nature of this hangout in hopes of justifying Jimin's actions and wonders if maybe it's not a date at all, but Jimin is going out to meet a whole group of friends.

As he follows Jimin down the street, hanging back by about half of a block, he watches as he enters a bar. Taehyung hovers against a street light, clinging to it like a buoy at sea, trying to decide whether it would hurt more to find out or to turn back and wonder.

When the anxiety of curiosity becomes too much, Taehyung pushes himself through the pole he had clung to and makes his way to the bar. Slowly, nervously, he shuffles along the sidewalk while people walk straight through him as if he isn't there at all.

Of course, Taehyung doesn't need oxygen, but he inhales deeply, holds it, and turns to the window. It's hard to see much, but Jimin's perfectly coifed dark hair that curls lightly at the ends can be seen from where he stands, and among him is a table of what appear to be others his age. Taehyung walks straight through the window and makes his way to where Jimin is sitting, and there, amongst four men who Taehyung has never seen before, Jimin laughs and smiles and makes small talk.

And although he's happy for Jimin, Taehyung can't help but feel jealous that his best friend is so good at getting close to others. Especially the boy with wavy dark hair hanging over one eye, looking at Jimin as if he's just hung the moon in the sky.

Taehyung decides he doesn't want to stay and watch Jimin for the night. And on his way out, he uses one finger to knock over the beer belonging to the boy who looks at Jimin so fondly, causing it to smash loudly against the wooden floor.

Jimin starts going to nightclubs again. At least this group of friends has the decency to wait to go out on the weekend, but Taehyung can't help but worry about Jimin getting drunk in the tight, pretty outfits he wears. He can't help but wonder if his friends would be the type to keep Jimin safe. He worries one of those friends may even prey on Jimin's beauty in an inebriated state.

Tonight Jimin wears a bright pink crop top, a gold chain around his waist, and tight black jeans. Jimin holds dangling gold earrings up to his ears to decide on a pair to wear as Taehyung leans against the dresser with his arms crossed over his chest. He chews on the inside of his mouth while Jimin chooses a pair with pretty gold stars and smiles at himself in the mirror.

Taehyung has never seen Jimin in a crop top. The sight is more than pleasant—firm abdominals with a hint of definition peeking between his clothing, highlighted by shimmery jewelry. Under other circumstances, Taehyung would love to see Jimin dressed this way, but not like this when Jimin plans to flaunt himself before others. Not while Taehyung is dead.

Jimin applies a dusting of pink eyeshadow to his lids and accentuates his eyelashes with some mascara, and Taehyung gawks at his friend. He can't believe how different Jimin has become since before the accident. He wonders if this Jimin even remembers him at all.

Jimin's second semester comes to an end, and rather than work at the cafe again, he begins instructing children at a local dance studio. Jimin seems to really love his job, and Taehyung enjoys tagging along and watching Jimin interact with the students. There's a glimmer in Jimin's eye that brightens the whole room. Taehyung wishes he could bottle it.

He loves watching Jimin dance. Loves watching as his lithe, toned body stretches and twists gracefully, deliberately. Taut muscle, traces of supple skin and feline-like moves—Taehyung is certain that there is nobody in this world more captivating.

Taehyung also loves that, while moving his body to music and feeling it flow through him, Jimin truly seems happy. There's a lightness to him that's not always present otherwise.

On the second anniversary of Taehyung's death, Jimin gets up and goes to work as usual. He has less of a pep in his step, but he doesn't cry the moment he wakes up like he did a year ago.

Taehyung is happy that Jimin seems to be grieving in healthier ways, but there's a part of him that can't help but feel bitter. It's not that he wants his best friend to be in shambles, but would it hurt him to seem a little more remorseful?

Maybe he has to keep a brave face in front of his students, Taehyung reasons. Maybe inside, Jimin is fighting a battle that he doesn't want anyone to see.

But as Jimin dances—precise movements with his lips curved into a sweet, tender expression—Taehyung can't help but think his best friend really has moved on entirely. Jimin smiles at the students, and the students smile back, and suddenly, the brightness feels blinding. Taehyung doesn't stick around for the end of the class.

On the night of the second anniversary of Taehyung's death, Jimin comes barging through the apartment door, clearly drunk, with a box in his hands. Behind him, Jeongguk comes stumbling in, and Taehyung huffs and rolls his eyes as he leans against the door frame of Jimin's bedroom.

This guy again, Taehyung thinks. Just great.

Jimin sets the box—an unassuming tan rectangle the size and shape of something you'd keep a board game in—on the table in front of his couch and motions for Jeongguk to have a seat while he pads over to the kitchen. Taehyung can't help but keep his eyes on his best friend—graceful despite the slight wobble in his step, with his loose black tee tucked into tight blue jeans. He can't help but wonder how Jimin went from teaching his students to bringing home the doe-eyed boy, drunk, in just a matter of hours.

"Want something to drink?" Jimin asks, looking over his shoulder from his open refrigerator. His voice startles Taehyung, who glances between the two of them. "I have water, soju..." Jimin giggles, a sweet, delicate sound that makes Taehyung ache, and he continues, "...that's about it."

"Uh, s-sure," Jeongguk responds in a voice that's much meeker than Taehyung expected.

"I gave you two choices, Ggukie," Jimin smirks as he raises an eyebrow.

Jeongguk blushes—fucking blushes—and he says, "I m-meant both are fine," and Taehyung thanks the universe he can't vomit because this—the nickname, the shy stuttering, the tension hanging in the air—all of this is absolutely fucking disgusting.

With another devastating giggle, Jimin fills a glass of water, grabs a bottle of soju and two small cups, and brings everything to the couch. Jeongguk scoots close to one side, giving Jimin space beside him, and Jimin sets the items on the table and plops himself down. Taehyung moves across the living room and stands leaning against the front door, curious suddenly about the dynamic between these two.

While Jimin sits with straight, confident posture, Jeongguk—the taller, broader, more muscular of the two—slouches a bit and appears uncertain. Jimin cracks open the bottle of soju and pours two cups, then hands one to his guest, who smiles shyly when their fingers happen to brush, and Taehyung rolls his eyes.

The two of them drink quietly, and Jimin pulls his knees onto the couch so his body can twist and face Jeongguk. Taehyung considers releasing his energy and floating backward through the apartment door to get the fuck out of there when Jeongguk speaks up.

"Wanna tell me what's on your mind now?" Jeongguk asks, and all the mirth drains from Jimin's eyes.

Jimin clears his throat and glances around the room, eyes landing on the rectangular box on his table. "Today is the two-year anniversary of..." Jimin begins, but his lips falter. He reaches for the glass of water, leans forward as he takes a sip, then he sets the glass down and relaxes, turning back to Jeongguk.

"My best friend died," Jimin mutters. "T-two years ago."

Jeongguk's mouth falls open, his eyes well with tears, and there's a twitch in his hand as if he wants to reach out to comfort Jimin, but he keeps it to himself. "Oh, Jiminie, I'm—"

"It's fine," Jimin says as he shakes his head. "I mean...it's not, but...it is. I still miss him every day, and sometimes I feel like a large part of my heart is just...gone. But sometimes, it also feels like he's still here. I don't know, can't explain it."

Jimin's hands shake over his knees, and this time Jeongguk does reach out, lifting his hands and hovering them over Jimin's, but keeping distance as if searching for a sign. Jimin nods softly, and Jeongguk drops his hands, engulfing Jimin's completely.

"What was he like?" Jeongguk asks, holding a concerned gaze on Jimin's face.

If Taehyung had a heart, it would surely be pounding. Jimin seems to be looking down at their hands, and a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "He was...amazing," Jimin mutters with an audible shake in his voice, and Taehyung lets in a soft gasp, suddenly feeling remorseful for being silent for the last two years—suddenly feeling guilty for thinking Jimin had forgotten about him.

"He was the only person who ever really saw me," Jimin continues. "I always envisioned him by my side, forever. We knew each other for so long that I could never picture a life without him. He was my rock...my safe place...my best friend in the whole world. And then, one day, he was just...gone."

Jimin's voice breaks on the last word, and he lifts a hand to wipe tears from his cheeks. Jeongguk shifts forward as if to comfort Jimin even more, but Jimin shakes his head and the soft smile returns. Slowly, Taehyung moves from the door, feeling a flurry of emotion for Jimin, and he sits with his legs crossed in front of the table, across from them.

"I'm okay," Jimin mutters. "It was easily the worst thing that has ever happened to me, and some days it feels hard to get out of bed, but I do my best. I know he would want me to do my best."

"Always," Taehyung responds quietly, wishing he could reach over the table and touch Jimin. "I always want you to do your best."

Silence falls between them, and for the first time, Taehyung really takes in Jeongguk. Wavy dark brown hair falls just past his cheekbones, tucked behind an ear on one side. He has rounded features that make him appear soft and gentle, with a sharp cupid's peak and nicely squared jaw. And although he wears a baggy tee shirt over black joggers, and his frame swims in his clothing, Taehyung can tell by his forearms and by the way the fabric hangs over Jeongguk's shoulders that he must work out.

There's a kindness in Jeongguk's gaze that makes Taehyung wonder if perhaps he was too quick to judge the guy's intentions, and he eases up a bit, relaxing where he sits. But the Jeongguk speaks again, and everything in the room shifts.

"Do you think he would have liked me?"

Jimin's eyes find Jeongguk's, and his lips curl into a smirk. He reaches up and gently pushes the other side of Jeongguk's hair behind his ear.

"Of course, he would, Ggukie. Who wouldn't like you?"

There's a tone in Jimin's voice, playful and deep—a tone that speaks volumes where his words say so little. The sound of it makes Taehyung tense up once more, and he balls his fists in his lap.

Taehyung does not like Jeongguk.

Once again, Jeongguk blushes, but the shyness is outshined by something else—something more akin to hunger. He licks his bottom lip and smiles back at Jimin, but then his gaze moves to the box on the table, and his energy seems to shift back to something more neutral.

"Is that why you wanted the ouija board?" Jeongguk asks.

Taehyung's mouth falls open, and he stares at the plain, unassuming package before him, unsure how to feel. While he's flattered that Jimin has decided to make some, albeit childish, attempt to contact him, he can't help but feel scorn that it's taken so long. He also can't help but feel bitter that Jeongguk got invited.

Jimin plays with his bottom lip between his teeth and flashes a playful puppy dog smile that Taehyung hasn't seen in years. "Will you try it with me?"

Instinctively, Taehyung scoots away from the table. He doesn't want to play ouija with Jimin and his fucking friend. He doesn't want anything to do with this flirtatious little exchange of theirs.

Jeongguk leans forward and fills his and Jimin's cups of soju, then sets the empty bottle down and hands Jimin his cup. Jimin smiles sweetly as he accepts, and they tap the cups together before shooting the liquid down. When Jeongguk turns his head to take his shot, he looks directly at Taehyung, and Taehyung can't help but feel frozen in his seat. There's a warmth in Jeongguk's eye that wasn't there moments ago, and Taehyung doesn't fucking like it.

Jimin sets his empty cup on the table and gets up to walk into the kitchen, and Jeongguk leans forward, sets his cup down, and reaches for the box. As Jeongguk lifts the lid, Jimin opens his fridge, and while Jeongguk takes out the ouija board and sets everything up in swift, delicate movements, Jimin returns with another bottle of soju.

“Have you done this before?” Jimin asks as he cracks open the bottle. He turns his head to face Jeongguk, who tugs his lower lip between his teeth.

“No,” Jeongguk responds with a lilt of playfulness in his tone. “This is my first time. You?”

Jimin seems to study Jeongguk for a brief moment, then turns back to the task of filling their small cups. He hums and says, “Guess we’ll discover how it works together.”

The groan that leaves Taehyung’s chest is one of deep annoyance, and he sits back with his palms against the wooden floor, readying himself to disappear through it at a moment’s notice. Jimin pushes a soju cup over the Jeongguk, and they both sit up straight with their butts at the edge of the couch.

The board looks like a standard dime store ouija board, with a fake wood design in the background and black ink print. The word Yes is in the top left corner and No is in the top right, the alphabet takes up most of the board, with Goodbye on the bottom. Only, this is a bootleg version that Jimin bought from a novelty shop that has everything printed in Korean.

“I think we’re supposed to put this,” Jimin begins, lifting the cream-colored planchette and setting it in the top center of the board, “here, and then we lightly place our fingers on this, and the spirit moves it around with us.”

Jimin places two fingers on the edge of the planchette, near the bulbous top end, and Jeongguk scoots in close and places two fingers near the center of it. They both stare at their hands as if deciding what to do next.

“How do we know the other person isn’t moving it, though?” Jeongguk asks.

Jimin turns to look at Jeongguk and, judging by his expression, seems surprised to find them sitting so close to one another. Taehyung watches as Jimin’s eyes scan Jeongguk’s face at the new distance before he blushes and looks away.

“Are you accusing me of being a cheater, Jeon Jeongguk?” Jimin asks playfully.

Jeongguk hums and smirks. “I don’t know, Park Jimin; are you?”

Jimin turns back to face Jeongguk, and the look on his face practically makes Taehyung spiral. Although this is a look he has grown accustomed to seeing on Jimin’s face, it’s one he only witnesses in times of passion, moments before Jimin jerks off, when he is teasing his skin and warming himself up.

If they fucking kiss on Taehyung’s deathiversary while in the throes of attempting to contact him using a cheaply made board game, Taehyung will surely evaporate into thin air.

But they don’t kiss. Jimin blinks out of the stare and scoffs, then rolls his eyes. With a tsk, he says, “I’m wounded, Ggukie. I thought you knew me better than that.”

Taehyung watches Jeongguk’s lips flounder around like a fucking fish before he closes them tight and doesn’t respond, and Taehyung sighs with relief. Whatever the fuck those pretty lips would have said next would have surely been infuriating.

“So, I guess we just…talk?” Jimin says, looking between their hands on the planchette and Jeongguk’s face.

Jeongguk shrugs. “Maybe let’s move this thing around a bit? To like…I don’t know, warm the board up?”

Jimin chuckles and nods his head, and they begin to move the planchette around the board in circles and waves, in a euphony of plastic scraping against lacquered cardboard. There’s a look of delight and curiosity in Jimin’s eye, and Taehyung can’t help but stare. He almost wants to interact with them to make Jimin happy. Almost.

“Okay,” Jimin says. He closes his eyes and clears his throat. “Dear ouija board, my name is Park Jimin and I am trying to find my best friend Kim Taehyung.” Beside him, Jeongguk’s face breaks out into an affectionate smile.

Taehyung sits still, unmoved. After two years of wanting nothing more than to be present in Jimin’s life, all of this feels so strange and insincere. He almost thinks hiring some shitty psychic in a back alley shop would have been less insulting.

When Taehyung doesn’t respond, Jimin sighs and opens his eyes. He looks out into the living room, toward the far window at Taehyung’s left, allowing himself to get lost in thought before he finally speaks.

“Taehyung,” Jimin mutters softly. “I don’t know if you can hear this, but…I’m sorry I haven’t tried to do this sooner, I just…I guess I don’t even know if things like this work. And I got scared. I thought about opening myself up to something like this and getting no response and the idea of it broke my heart. But I think it’s better to at least try, so here I am…trying. Anyway, If you’re out there, I hope you let me know, sometime.”

If Taehyung had a heart, Jimin’s little speech would have surely tugged at it. He sits on the floor staring at his best friend, watching as all of the playfulness slowly sinks away and is replaced by an earnest sadness. He wants to reach out and touch Jimin—wants to move the planchette to tell Jimin he’s there, that he’s always been there—but he doesn’t move.

“I had a dream the other night that you were lying beside me in bed,” Jimin continues. “We weren’t doing anything remarkable, you were just there. You still had the same shaggy long hair that you had when I last saw you, and you brushed your thumb over my cheek the same way you would whenever I was being a crybaby. Even though I wasn’t crying. Maybe you could sense my sadness.” Jimin smiles to himself and looks down at his fingers.

“For the rest of the day I felt this lightness, like I was sure you were there. It carried me through the day and made me feel stronger. Just knowing you might still be here makes me feel like I can conquer anything.”

One single teardrop falls from Jimin’s eye, and Taehyung sits forward, shifting his legs around until he’s on his knees. He looks at Jimin, studies him from below, and then reaches out with one hand, thumb gravitating to the apple of Jimin’s cheek before he stops himself.

Jeongguk’s weight shifts and Taehyung sees his hand snake around Jimin’s waist, gently pulling him into a half hug. Jimin sniffles and smiles, wiping his tears with his free hand.

“Maybe this was a mistake,” Jimin mutters.

“It’s okay,” Jeongguk responds softly, tightening his grip on Jimin’s side. “At least we tried.”

Jimin nods his head shallowly and removes his fingers from the planchette. As his hand grabs onto his small cup of soju, the hand between his and Jeongguk’s bodies moves to rest on Jeongguk’s knee. Jeongguk’s gaze falls first to Jimin’s hand, then, with a smile, he grabs his cup. Tears continue to fall slowly over Jimin’s cheeks despite his smile, and Jeongguk moves his arm from around Jimin’s waist to reach up and wipe away Jimin’s tears with the pad of his thumb.

All at once, Taehyung stands, towering over them. His mind races with ways to separate them and get Jeongguk the fuck out of this apartment, but he settles on using a single finger to push the cup of soju out of Jeongguk’s weak grasp, dropping it to the table.

The boys startle, and Jeongguk jumps a few inches away from Jimin, then looks around the apartment with wide eyes. Jeongguk looks nervous while Jimin looks amused.

“This wasn’t free, you brat!” Jimin squawks while pointing to the ouija board, but Jeongguk shakes his head.

“I didn’t do that, I swear!”

An amused smile tugs at Jimin’s lips. “Uh-huh, sure!”

“I swear!” Jeongguk responds, looking as if he had actually seen the ghost that made him drop his cup.

“Fine, I’ll humor you,” Jimin says with a chuckle. "Taehyung, darling, was that you?

Taehyung isn't sure why he's so infuriated with Jimin's new, playful tone. Maybe it's the addition of Jeongguk there. Maybe it's the fact that suddenly, all of this seems like nothing more than a fucking joke or some weird rouse to get Jeongguk alone in Jimin's flat.

Nobody's fingers remain on the planchette, and Taehyung reaches down and pushes it over the word No. Both Jeongguk and Jimin gasp and jump back against the couch, and Taehyung swipes the whole board away, sending it crashing to the floor with a wet streak of soju following in its wake. Taehyung leans forward with his palms on the table, eye level with Jimin as he watches them.

Jeongguk looks terrified, and he scoots away from Jimin to the side of the couch where he had been sitting before, almost cowering away. Jimin, on the other hand, has his eyes fixed on the table before him, staring at the mess of soju left behind. In his fingers, his cup still dangles, and Jimin pulls himself out of his reverie enough to shoot the soju back.

"I, uh...I think I should go," Jeongguk says. Jimin doesn't argue.

The shift in the energy is palpable, and it makes Taehyung uneasy, but he doesn't move. He watches as the wheels seem to turn in Jimin's mind and notices anger in his gaze. Taehyung wonders if Jimin knows it was him who made that mess, after all.

Without another word, Jeongguk gets up, moves across the room and slides his feet back into his sneakers. He doesn't look back as he leaves the apartment, and Jimin doesn't lift his eyes to watch him leave.

Taehyung reaches out and, with the pad of his thumb, rubs over the swell of Jimin's cheek, making himself known to him for the first time since his death. He isn't sure what he expects would happen, but he imagines something along the lines of Jimin gasping and realizing his best friend is really there, crying tears of joy that they're finally reunited.

What Taehyung doesn't expect is for Jimin's eyes to snap right to Taehyung's as if he can see him before saying, "Don't fucking touch me. Whoever you are, you're not welcome in this apartment."

Taehyung hoped the ouija board incident would be the last he would see of Jeongguk, but instead, Jimin just goes to spend time with him outside of his apartment. It started with small coffee dates between classes and grabbing a beer at night with their group of friends and progressed to them doing those things but as just the two of them.

Tonight, Jimin stands before his mirror, putting on makeup and gazing at his figure, while Taehyung leans against the dresser as always, with his arms crossed over his chest.

Jimin had gone out earlier to get his hair lightened and colored cotton candy pink, unlocking a level of devastating beauty that Taehyung didn't know was possible. From Jimin's ears dangle silver hoops, and he applies a light dusting of pink eyeshadow around his eyes and a matching pink, shimmery gloss to his plush, perfect lips.

The outfit Jimin wears is surprisingly understated. A plain white tee is half-tucked into tight blue jeans with holes at the knees. His many silver rings and bracelets draw attention to his dainty hands and wrists, and Taehyung imagines he'll pair his favorite slim black boots with the black leather belt around his waist. Tangerine and lilac hang in the air as Jimin twirls around a cloud of perfume and smiles at his own reflection.

There's a swish to Jimin's hips as he leaves his apartment in the very boots Taehyung knew he would slip his feet into, and Taehyung can't help but satiate his curiosity as he follows close behind, eager to know just where the hell Jimin is going on a Saturday night, all done up and smelling like a cheap whore.

Taehyung is surprised to discover Jimin's destination is some house party full of drunk college students listening to overproduced pop music and drinking out of red plastic cups. It doesn't take an idiot to see that this whole scene is below Jimin, and he scoffs as he takes in the chaos of the party, wondering what kind of person would be responsible for bringing a beauty like Jimin here, of all places.

Of course, it's Jeon fucking Jeongguk who greets Jimin in the kitchen with a tight hug. He hands Jimin a cup of something and roves his eyes over Jimin's body before reaching up to gently touch his pink hair. Jimin bites his lower lip, clearly pleased with the attention.

"Wow, Jiminah," Jeongguk mutters, "you look...so pretty."

A blush plays over Jimin's cheeks that matches the tones in his hair, and he checks Jeongguk out in return, smirking as he takes in Jeongguk's muscular frame in a black tee shirt that actually fits him for once and skinny dark blue jeans that accentuate his long legs and slim waist.

"Likewise, Ggukie," Jimin responds as he lifts his drink to his lips, holding tense eye contact with Jeongguk.

Taehyung considers knocking yet another drink from Jeongguk's hand just to break the tension and maybe put a little more fear into the guy, but they're interrupted by some friends and, for the time being, go back to acting shy and platonic with one another.

Taehyung's next outburst comes not with a bang but with the whisper of sweet words and the light blush on Jimin's cheeks when his lips brush against Jeongguk's neck, just below his ear.

The party has since died down, and Jeongguk is leaning against the kitchen counter, which is covered haphazardly in bottles of alcohol and mixers and abandoned plastic cups. Jimin suggests they get out of there, go somewhere just the two of them, and as his lips meet Jeongguk’s skin, Jeongguk’s breath hitches, and he lifts his hands to gently take Jimin by the waist.

“Want to come back to mine?” Jeongguk suggests, tilting his face to look down at Jimin.

Jimin stands on his toes and slowly, delicately rubs the tips of their noses together. With a nod, he says, “Let’s go.”

Taehyung doesn’t stick around to see the rest. He doesn’t follow them to Jeongguk’s place, and he doesn’t return to Jimin’s apartment. Instead, he walks through the front door, out into the cool autumn night, in no particular direction.

When Taehyung’s anger reaches its breaking point, he steps into the road and materializes into something an oncoming driver must be able to see, causing them to veer quickly and crash into a pole.

Taehyung doesn’t keep track of how long he wanders before he returns to Jimin’s apartment. Days, perhaps? Maybe a week. He roams the city, taking pleasure in fucking with unsuspecting strangers and searching for other ghosts to spend his time with.

Although some of the paths he crosses prove interesting, he misses Jimin. Nobody else feels like home quite like his best friend.

It’s late when Taehyung materializes through Jimin’s front door, sometime after bar time but well before dawn. Jimin lays spread out across his bed wearing a white tee shirt and tight black briefs. Smudges of black mascara are visible beneath Jimin’s eyes, and his breath smells like stale liquor.

Taehyung sits on the bed beside Jimin with enough force to make the mattress dip, and when Jimin grumbles and shifts slightly in the direction of the movement, Taehyung tenses. With the pad of his thumb, Taehyung gently brushes over the curve of Jimin’s cheek. A soft smile tugs at the edges of Jimin’s lips, and Taehyung leans down and softly presses a kiss to that smile, breathing in Jimin’s scent—floral, fruity and musky with a hint of vodka.

Jimin groans and smiles wider. The light kiss seems to have brought him back to consciousness, and he slowly blinks his eyes open. Then, as Jimin looks around the room, he realizes that—as far as he can tell—he’s all alone.

Taehyung can’t quite pinpoint the look in Jimin’s eyes, but there’s sadness swirling in the depths along with confusion. Jimin swallows hard and adjusts on his bed, pulling his blanket out from beneath him and covering himself with it, all the way to his mouth.

Jimin injures himself one winter morning on the way to school. It's not too serious, just a light sprain to one of his ankles, but his doctor prescribes him a rather strong pain medication.

Taehyung enjoys the few cozy days that he gets to spend with a weak, drowsy Jimin, but as soon as he feels more mobile, he begins to spend less and less time at home again, and Taehyung goes back to feeling bitter about the absence of his friend.

Taehyung begins spending more time away from Jimin’s apartment than he spends in it. No longer does he sit and wait for Jimin to come home. No longer does he watch as his pretty best friend gets ready to go to shitty house parties and loud nightclubs with his pretty little boy toy.

Instead, Taehyung continues to stroll aimlessly through the city, pulling pranks on humans and finding other spirits to distract him. The longer Taehyung spends away from Jimin, the more bitter he becomes. At times he’s certain he hates Jimin, and he curses the universe for ruining their perfect friendship and everything they worked for over the years.

Flashes of Yoongi and Jeongguk touching and kissing Jimin creep through his mind, and Taehyung feels furious over the fact that it should have been him. He should be the one touching and kissing and fucking Jimin, not those idiots. He is the one who stuck by Jimin’s side for all of those years. He is the one who deserves to be with Jimin.

When Taehyung does return to Jimin’s apartment, it’s to watch him sleep and to move things around, to give him a little scare. It starts small, switching the shampoo, conditioner and body wash bottles to different spots. But then he starts to pull bigger, more obvious pranks like moving Jimin’s dishes into his dry storage cabinet and placing his bedside lamp on the other side of the room.

Taehyung gets a rise out of watching Jimin wake up and gasp at the sight of his things moved around. It shouldn't amuse him so much to watch his best friend approach his own kitchen with a fearful look in his eye, but it does. As Jimin's hands shake and he looks around his apartment for any signs of someone breaking in, Taehyung shouldn't feel so amused, but he can't help it.

And anyway, Jimin looks so pretty when he pouts.

This time, Taehyung doesn't have an outburst and leave. This time, when Jeongguk slithers over Jimin's half-naked body, slurring drunk compliments at the pretty boy below him, Taehyung has an outburst and makes him leave.

Taehyung storms through the wall and swats a glass of water that sits on the bedside table, sending it flying across the room and smashing into the far wall. Both Jimin and Jeongguk squeal like scared little pigs, and Jeongguk sits up on his knees before scurrying backward away from the table where the glass was until he's tripping over himself to get out of the bed.

Jimin pleads with Jeongguk not to go, but he's clearly too drunk and too sleepy to chase after him. As Jeongguk runs out of Jimin's bedroom and leaves with his boots in his hands, Jimin pulls his covers over his head and curls into the fetal position, letting his drunkenness and anxiety pull him quickly to sleep.

Taehyung waits for Jimin to roll onto his back and start snoring lightly—something he does when he’s drunk and sleeping nice and heavy—and then he approaches the bed. Gently, Taehyung rubs his thumb over Jimin’s cheek, and when he doesn’t get a response, he grabs onto Jimin’s blanket and tugs it down.

The tee Jimin wears is bunched up around his waist, and Taehyung reaches out to push the fabric further and expose his nipples. Gently, Taehyung brushes his thumb over the dusky skin, watching with delight as it reacts and stiffens.

A soft huff of air leaves Jimin’s lips, and Taehyung leans further and flicks his dry tongue out to tease the nipple. Jimin’s soft, pebbled skin sparks something in Taehyung, and he laps at it once more, drawing a deeper moan from Jimin’s lips.

Jimin’s hand motions to push his shirt down, and Taehyung catches it, holding it still as he continues to tease his best friend. Although the touch seems to be causing Jimin to stir, it’s not waking him up, and Taehyung sits up and directs his attention lower.

Beneath Jimin’s tight shorts is a soft bulge that Taehyung very delicately traces his fingers over. Jimin’s thighs twitch, and Taehyung nibbles on his bottom lip as his fingers dance across the ridge of Jimin’s cock head and down his shaft, to his balls.

With a groan, Jimin reaches down and squeezes his own cock. A glance at his face shows Jimin to still be at least partially asleep, and Taehyung places his hand over Jimin’s and uses it to rub himself until he’s hard.

If Taehyung had saliva, his mouth would surely be watering. Jimin’s hand falls away as a deeper state of sleep claims him once more, and Taehyung replaces it with his own hand, using the tips of his fingers to trace the curves of Jimin's now fully erect cock.

“Fuck,” Taehyung mutters as his gentle touches turn firm. He envelopes Jimin’s shaft in his hand and slowly strokes up his length and down again, watching Jimin’s face for any trace of waking.

Jimin’s mouth opens slightly, and he mutters barely audible gibberish. Taehyung’s finger rubs over a wet spot in Jimin’s briefs and presses against it, feeling more precum soak through the thin fabric. Although Taehyung has no sense of taste, he feels the need to lick it.

Gently, Taehyung removes his hand from Jimin's erection and grabs onto the hem of his briefs. He tugs on the fabric slowly, watching for any signs of alertness. Then, as the tip of Jimin’s cock comes into view, he swipes his dry tongue over his lips.

Taehyung leans down and gently rubs his lips over the soft skin below the head of Jimin’s cock, then sticks his tongue out to taste him. He laps up to the tip and collects the dribble precum, imagining what it might taste like, and he can’t help the pleased groan that escapes him.

Jimin’s hips twitch, and he makes a sound as his hand returns to his cock. Taehyung moves his face just in time and watches in wonderment as Jimin grabs himself and strokes up his shaft as he stirs in his sleep once more.

“Need to make sure you get drunker next time,” Taehyung mutters as he sits up and grabs onto his own erection.

As Taehyung’s eyes rove over Jimin’s body, up to his lips, and back down to the leaking cock in his fist, he jerks himself off. “This will do for now.”

Taehyung doesn’t see a trace of Jeongguk for a while. He thinks that perhaps he’s finally scared the boy away from Jimin’s apartment for good. In fact, he's surprised he hasn't scared Jimin away. As far as he can tell, Jimin hasn't considered moving out. Perhaps he's come to peace with the idea that some bitter ghost who hates his male friend lives amongst him.

It helps that Taehyung has stopped haunting him. It's been too long since they've shared a masturbation session, and Taehyung longs to see Jimin at his most relaxed and vulnerable.

As the semester comes to a head and Jimin buries himself in studying for exams and working part-time at the dance studio, Taehyung begins to come around to the apartment more often again.

It’s not quite like it was before, but Taehyung enjoys sitting in his best friend’s company. But where there once was longing and admiration when Taehyung would watch Jimin go through the daily motions of his life, now Taehyung just feels lust. Lust and impatience.

Taehyung waits for the moment when Jimin sighs and sets his books aside, roving his hands over his body in search of some stress relief. Luckily, with Jimin becoming increasingly swamped with schoolwork, he spends enough time at home that he has to release his pent up energy on his own, and his sessions become more creative than simply jerking off.

Taehyung can’t help but gasp at the sight of Jimin working a lubed-up glass dildo into his ass, and that day he reaches his dry but intense orgasm in record time.

Jimin stumbles into his apartment shitfaced. To celebrate the end of the semester, he went out to the nightclub, probably with Jeongguk. Taehyung almost didn’t stay at the apartment, assuming that Jimin would want to go back to the doe-eyed boy’s place to get railed after so many weeks of fucking himself with toys, so he’s surprised when Jimin makes an abrupt, clumsy entrance.

Taehyung can't help but wonder how Jimin managed to get home in his current state, but he thanks his lucky stars that he made it in one piece and that he came in alone. He just needs to get Jimin naked, ideally before he passes out.

Jimin stumbles into the kitchen and grabs a clean glass from the drying rack beside the sink. In his drunken stupor, Jimin knocks his knee into the cabinet while stepping to the sink for water and leans into the counter as he winces and groans.

Taehyung stands with his arms crossed over his chest and smiles to himself as Jimin reaches above the sink and grabs a pill packet down. Of course he's too intoxicated to notice Taehyung put the stronger painkillers leftover from Jimin's sprain in the place where his over the counter pain medicines are kept.

Jimin rips the wrong package open, swallows the wrong pill down with a gulp of tap water, then he makes his way to his room, eyes drooping low as he fumbles over to his bedside table and sets down his glass with a loud thunk. Then he strips down to his briefs and tee and goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Taehyung moves the glass of water close to the edge of the table, and as soon as Jimin returns, his hip bumps into it. Delight spreads across Taehyung's face as Jimin ends up spilling water all over his hip and thigh, narrowly stopping the glass from falling to the floor.

"God, it's just too fucking easy," Taehyung mutters with a grin as Jimin strips out of his briefs.

Jimin stands, swaying as if he's out at sea, and for a moment, it looks like he's considering grabbing a dry garment. But, ultimately, he topples onto his bed in only a shirt, with his face down on a pillow. He's asleep in a matter of minutes.

"Shouldn't mix those painkillers with alcohol," Taehyung mutters teasingly as he changes his ghostly form from one that's dressed to one that's nude. "They'll make you really drowsy."

Taehyung gets onto the bed and straddles Jimin's ass, feeling the soft, supple skin between his thighs. With one hand, Taehyung roughly grabs Jimin by his pretty pink hair and tugs his head up. Jimin mutters softly but is out like a light and already drooling, and Taehyung scoffs, dropping his cheek against the pillow as he mutters, "Way too fucking easy."

Jimin lightly snores as Taehyung reaches for the bottle of lube on the bedside table, and he smiles to himself when he squirts some between Jimin's cheeks, and the sensation doesn't make him stir. With two fingers, Taehyung rubs between Jimin's cheeks until the pad of his middle finger dances over Jimin's puckered rim.

A deep, needy groan leaves Taehyung's chest, and he places his free hand on Jimin's ass and spreads him wide to get a better look at him. "So pretty," Taehyung moans as he rubs his finger over Jimin's hole, then pushes it inside.

Jimin is soft, wet and warm, and Taehyung forces his entire finger in, stretching his walls unceremoniously around him. Despite being unprepped, Jimin's ass seems to swallow him eagerly.

"Fuck," Taehyung mutters, feeling his cock ache for attention.

It takes no time at all for Taehyung to stretch Jimin around two and then three of his fingers. He explores Jimin's ass and revels in the soft twitches and noises that he makes. Although it's not the same as getting to watch pleasure tug at Jimin's face, this is the only way Taehyung can have him, and he has come to terms with this being good enough.

Slowly, Taehyung pulls his fingers from Jimin's ass and rubs them over his rim, up and down between his cheeks, making a nice big fucking mess. Then he pops the lube bottle open, squirts more liquid straight into Jimin's hole, and tosses the bottle onto the bed.

Taehyung gathers some of the lube from between Jimin's cheeks and slathers his cock, groaning from the slick sensation. Then he shimmies down between Jimin's legs, spreads his soft yet muscular thighs and lines his cock up with Jimin's perfectly messy hole.

If Taehyung had a heart, it would surely be pounding. Unlike Jimin, he has managed to uphold his half of their virginity pact, and now he's getting his reward. After all these years, he's finally getting what he thinks he deserves.

Taehyung's fingers couldn't have prepared Jimin's tight little ass for his girth. What a shame, Taehyung thinks as he slowly sinks his tip in, stretching Jimin further around him. He thinks Jimin would have loved Taehyung's cock.

As Taehyung is swallowed by the warmth of Jimin's perfect body, he imagines Jimin on his back, pretty pink lips parted as he whines and gasps from pleasure. As he disappears into Jimin's ass, Taehyung imagines sitting against the headboard while Jimin moans and whimpers, riding him while his own leaking cock slaps against his tummy. Taehyung thinks Jimin would look absolutely heavenly on top of him.

The squeeze of Jimin's ass is thrilling, a sensation that would surely knock the air from Taehyung's chest or make him dizzy if it could. Taehyung imagines Jimin crosseyed and begging for a chance to catch his breath before begging to be fucked.

As Taehyung lifts his hips and presses his cock back into his sleeping best friend, he imagines Jimin might mewl and whimper, digging his tiny fingernails into the soft flesh of Taehyung's hips. If only Taehyung had soft flesh.

"So good, Jiminah," Taehyung whines as he thrusts in a languid, deep pace. "You feel so fucking good."

Soft sounds leave Jimin's mouth, and he twitches from time to time, but his body makes no strong movements, nor does he show any signs of waking. Taehyung picks up his pace, watching with delight as Jimin's perky round ass cheeks ripple from each thrust.

Taehyung's pleasure builds and builds, and there's a part of him that wishes he could fill Jimin's ass with cum. He wishes he could see his release drip from Jimin's perfectly puffy hole, making an even bigger mess of himself. The thought of it sends Taehyung plummeting, and he squeezes Jimin's waist with both hands as he plunges his cock in deeper, trembling through the intense bliss.

"Fuck, baby, that's it," Taehyung whines as he sees stars and his pleasure crescendos. Perhaps this is the heaven Taehyung desired upon death. Perhaps this is the bliss he thought he would find in the afterlife.

Taehyung pulls out and falls back against his knees, and he watches Jimin's tight pucker slowly close around nothing, glistening from the lube that still coats it. It's risky, but Taehyung stands up off the bed and rolls Jimin onto his back.

Jimin grumbles as his limbs move like those of a ragdoll against the mattress, and Taehyung rubs his hands over Jimin's thighs, hips and tummy. It's risky, but Taehyung squirts lube onto Jimin's cock, slathers it up and shoves it down his throat.

Taehyung slurps and sucks at his best friend's cock while sweet moans and whimpers leave his lips. It's risky, but Taehyung reaches between Jimin's legs and sticks two fingers into him, slowly fucking them in and out of his used hole while he slurps his cock down, eager to make him cum.

Jimin moans loudly, and Taehyung's gaze flies to his face. Although Jimin appears to still be asleep, his brows are knit, and his pretty lips are parted, letting soft sounds slip between them. Taehyung continues to suck until Jimin's hips shake and tremble, then he pulls out and jerks Jimin off with his hand.

It only takes a few pumps for Jimin to orgasm. Thick, white ropes of cum shoot from his cock, landing on his hips and tummy, and suddenly he seems somewhat alert as he whimpers and moans. At least, alert enough. Taehyung removes his fingers from Jimin's ass but continues to squeeze at his head until he's milked Jimin's pretty rosy-tipped cock of every drop.

Jimin shivers and turns onto his side, reaching for his comforter, which is below him. When no warmth can be found, he grabs the side of the blanket and folds it over himself like a taco, all while staying more or less asleep.

The sight of Jimin's cum spraying all over himself made Taehyung hard again, and as Jimin struggles to find comfort, Taehyung stands against the wall and jerks himself off.

It's been a while since Taehyung's watched Jimin wake up in tears, and he hates to admit how proud he feels to be affecting his best friend, just like old times. The reason may be different, but the anguish as Jimin curls into a ball in the shower looks the same.

Try as he might, Jimin has no memory of last night. He calls Jeongguk crying, begging for an explanation as to how he got home, but Jeongguk insists Jimin took a cab and that, after that, he has no idea.

But something has to have happened because Jimin woke up in just a shirt, covered in cum with a sore ass sticky with lube.

Taehyung doesn't have another outburst again. His haunting and drunk fucking escalates to the point of Jimin attempting to move out of that apartment and, in the process, alienating himself from his friends. The psychological horror of whatever is happening to him is so great that he begins therapy and medications.

Jimin questions whether any of it is real or if he's experiencing hallucinations, and never seems to think it could be Taehyung haunting him and fucking with him. Taehyung finds it all incredibly amusing.

On the third anniversary of Taehyung's death, Jimin wakes up in a cold sweat moaning as he cums on his tummy. Taehyung has figured out how to rile him up and get him off all without waking him up—all without needing to get him drunk.

When Jimin finally rolls out of bed, he finds all of the furniture in his apartment is in the wrong place. He screams bloody murder and runs back to bed, pulling his cover over his head and muttering frantically to himself. Taehyung runs his hands up and down Jimin’s thighs gently over the blanket and smiles to himself as Jimin squeals and pulls away.

As a gift to mark the occasion, Taehyung takes out the old ouija board that Jimin had packed away a year earlier. The board is warped from soju and doesn't sit flat, but that's not important. All he needs is for the planchette to rest nicely over the word Yes. He wonders if Jimin will understand what he's saying yes to—that he's finally answering Jimin’s question of whether or not it was him.

Taehyung cannot wait to see Jimin's reaction.

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