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millcdaze · 7 years ago

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☂ rest stop: off we go | jihope | g | 1,563w crossposted on ao3 @ flowerstems for the jihope bingo square: road trip

☀

“Feet off the dash.”

Hoseok’s eyes are still on the road and Jimin’s sure he was extra quiet when he put his feet up. This is the third time Hoseok scolded him within five seconds of him putting his feet up and it is simply unacceptable.

“Focus on the road.”

“I am.” Hoseok tips his head, lips pursed, and gestures to where Jimin’s feet rest comfortably on the dashboard. “Feet.”

Jimin thinks about eating a lime and pinches his face in distaste at Hoseok, shaking his head the way a child would when they don’t get their way, and Hoseok makes a face right back at him, nose scrunched and teeth bared. His eyes are still on the road.

“You have motion sensors?”

“Off.”

They both huff, barely out of time with each other, and Jimin quietly slides his feet off the dashboard. Again.

“I want to stretch my legs.” Jimin crosses his arms and pushes his lips out to accentuate his sulking. He’s sure Hoseok can see it because Hoseok can somehow see everything he does—that and Hoseok is smiling. It looks wholly fond, but the corner of his mouth twists in mischief. Jimin would reach over and rub it off, vengeance, but earlier Jimin accidentally poked Hoseok in the neck and Hoseok almost swerved off the road. So.

“You can stretch your legs without putting them up.”

“Putting them up is fun though,” Jimin whines, stretches his legs in his leg space, and wiggles his legs. Sure, he has enough space to stretch comfortably with his seat pushed as far back as possible, but it’s more fun when his feet are up and he can peek at the sky between his toes. Maybe press his bare feet to the windscreen and leave those smudges Hoseok hates so much. “Why can’t I put them up?”

“I told you,” Hoseok turns his head just enough to look Jimin in the eyes when he glances over, and he snorts when he sees Jimin’s pout, clenching his teeth so he doesn’t laugh. He takes ‘eyes always on the road’ very seriously, especially when it’s just the two of them in the car. This giant metal death-trap. “It’s distracting when you put your cute little feet up-”

“How dare you,” Jimin interrupts, hand on his chest and mouth as wide open as his eyes. “That is not what you said last time.”

“You have no proof.”

It’s true, Jimin has no proof, but that has nothing to do with this. “We both know what you said last time.”

“Your toes are ugly?”

Jimin stage-gasps again and Hoseok’s knuckles whiten as he squeezes the life out of the steering wheel. “You keep insulting me and I’m going to walk home.”

“Honey, please, the closest rest stop was an hour ago.”

“Stop the car.” Jimin sticks his feet into his shoes and stabs his fingers down the backs to slide them on properly.

“Oh, sweetie.” Hoseok fakes a sigh as he checks the mirrors.

The road is unnaturally clear: everyone sped past them while a rush of adrenaline had Jimin halfway out the window and Hoseok stretched across the front seat with Jimin’s hand in a vice grip, yelling about being careful and daring him to yell a secret to the coastline in the same breath. When Jimin slides back into his seat, flashing a smile with his hair a windswept mess, Hoseok squeezes his hand and reminds himself to focus on the road.

It’s difficult to resist the urge to speed down a smooth strip of road, harder yet to look away when Jimin is glowing beside him with his gorgeous smile and his crooked tooth and his hand tight around Hoseok’s, but Hoseok finds the threats of a tyre blowing out or a freak crosswind tossing them aside encouragement enough to look away. Just for now.

“We’ll never get to where we’re going if you keep making me pull over.”

“Aw, please?” By the time Jimin twists at the waist and bats his eyes, Hoseok is slowing to a stop off the road and laughing when Jimin affectionately headbutts him.

“I already know what you’re planning.”

“Yet the radio still isn’t loud enough.”

“Oh, my apologies.” Hoseok kills the engine but leaves the radio running, turning it up until the latest pop earworm is blasting loud enough to drown their laughter and have them both stumbling out of the car with their ears covered.

Hoseok rounds the car and throws himself onto Jimin, hooking an arm around Jimin’s waist and spinning him into a quick dip then pulling him back onto his feet before they both fall over. This is the second time they’ve pulled over to dance under the guise of stretching their legs. It’s fun to sit in a car, hold hands, grumble about shit traffic and shittier drivers, sure, but it’s even more fun to step on each other’s toes, spinning and swinging each other until they’re dizzy and unable to recognise the songs blasting through the rented speakers.

They stop dancing when their legs ache and the sun is a little lower in the sky. The summer sun is a mystery, hanging in the middle of the sky like it’s midday until late evening then plummeting past the horizon within a matter of minutes. Life is kind of like that, dragging along with the illusion of constancy and making change seem sudden, change that had been set in motion long before it mattered. It’s hot so everything seems significant. Jimin stretches the dance ache out of his legs, lying across the backseat, and Hoseok turns down the radio while drinking half of Jimin’s bottled water in the passenger seat.

“Whose water is that?”

“Guess.”

“Share,” Jimin hisses, or he tries to hiss but ends up laughing through his teeth, sitting up and grabbing the water when Hoseok hands it over. “I bet you weren’t even this thirsty.”

“Bet you’re not even thirsty right now.” Hoseok throws an arm over the seat and pushes his cheek against the headrest while Jimin drains the rest of the water. Jimin cocks a brow, shaking the empty bottle, and Hoseok grins. “Looks fake.”

“Whatever,” Jimin drawls, but he leans over to push his nose against Hoseok’s and kisses him when he puckers his lips. “You trying to bribe me?”

“No, I’m trying to kiss you. Lean forward again. I don’t want my head to get stuck.”

“Then why don’t you lean over between the seats?”

“Because we’re both already here. Just one more-”

His sigh ends in a laugh and Jimin leaves the empty bottle in the backseat, getting out of the car and rounding it so he can slide into the driver’s seat where he’s met with Hoseok’s grin.

“So you’re driving now?”

“Yeah, you swerve too much.”

“Rude, Park.” With a huff, Hoseok pulls the door closed, but then he’s leaning into Jimin’s space, holding himself up with an arm propped on the driver’s seat. “You here to drive or to criticise me?”

“I’m here to drive, criticise, and kiss you.” When they’re this close, it’s hard to look away from Hoseok’s mouth, the cute little mole on his lip, the way his mouth curves when he smiles. “Duh.”

Jimin crushes the space between their mouths and Hoseok fingers are cool where they brush along his jaw. It’s so nice, kissing Hoseok in a rented car with a tinge of salt in the summer hot air, even when Hoseok pulls away to kiss Jimin’s cheek with an obnoxious smooching sound. “Get to driving, Romeo.”

“Yeah, yeah.” If Jimin prides himself on how smoothly he starts the car and pulls back onto the road, smooth compared to the haphazard way Hoseok had done it when they were trying to merge onto a restless highway, Jimin lets it be known with a proud shake of his head. One Hoseok either misses or pretends he doesn’t see—his grumble tells Jimin it’s the latter.

It may be out of revenge or idleness, but ten minutes into the drive Hoseok turns up the radio and puts his feet up on the dashboard. He toed off his sneakers so, sure, it’s okay, but Jimin knows how to hold a grudge with the best of them.

“Honey,” Jimin coos, overtaking a van that has been driving like a lullaby for too long, “feet off.”

“Oh?” The smug grin is almost audible. Out of the corner of his eye, Jimin can see Hoseok sink farther into the seat and press his toes against the windscreen. Disrespectful. “But you kept putting yours up.”

By the time Jimin clicks his tongue as loud enough to be heard over the radio Hoseok is already laughing. No matter. “And you kept telling me to take them off.”

“Are they blocking you?” Hoseok shakes his feet like windscreen wipers and Jimin groans. Just because they’re not blocking him doesn’t mean they’re not a distraction. Besides, he won’t stand for such blatant disrespect.

“No. It’s just that your cute little feet are distracting.”

With a loud scoff, Hoseok pulls his feet off the dashboard and sits up perfectly straight, hand planted on his chest. “Park Jimin. Focus on the road.”

“Behave and I will.” Jimin drums his fingers against the steering wheel, grinning proudly when Hoseok falls back against his seat, arms folded like a petulant child.

“Fine.”

#jihope #networkjihope #hopemin #minhope #jihope bingo #bts fic #roadtrips are so hard to write dfjkhsdjflk #i did my best #vanilla.txt

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millcdaze · 7 years ago

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☂ distant love | jihope | g | 2,316w crossposted on ao3 @ flowerstems jihope bingo square: song inspired

❁

The night is yawning and Hoseok can see its belly full of stars through their window when Jimin shakes him until he rolls over. Hoseok doesn’t pretend to rub the sleep from his eyes, and he doesn’t fake a yawn as he sits up and holds his arms open.

“Jiminnie.” Hoseok’s eyes burn as he looks Jimin over. Which is worse: being unable to sleep or being pulled from sleep by terror? Jimin’s eyes are wild, his white jersey hangs off him and turns him into a ghost, and he’s shaking. It’s easy to see. Jimin is trying to make himself small, tuck himself behind his pillow, but Hoseok’s eyes adjusted to the dark hours ago and Jimin hasn’t been awake long enough to hide everything. “What’s wrong?”

Jimin drops himself onto the bed and drops his pillow to slide his arms around Hoseok’s waist, pushing his cold nose against Hoseok’s neck as he sighs out a yawn. “Nightmare.”

It’s always tough, guessing whether it’s okay to ask. Should he? Shouldn’t he? Knowing should be intrinsic, right? Some modern misconception of love, as though a glance tells all in any situation. Sometimes Jimin glances at him and Hoseok can’t guess what the hell Jimin is thinking. Those moments are terrifying; Jimin could be thinking anything. Hoseok combs his fingers through Jimin’s hair and listens to Jimin’s breathing even out.

“Same one?”

Jimin’s hum tickles Hoseok’s neck so Hoseok bites his lips together to force back a laugh. Knowing that it’s the same nightmare doesn’t mean anything because Jimin never told Hoseok what the nightmare is. It could be a different nightmare each night and Hoseok wouldn’t know; how could he? He only knows what Jimin tells him. He’s not psychic, but he trusts Jimin.

If only he could help him.

“You can talk to me, okay?” The typical reassurance, one that may benefit Hoseok more than Jimin these days. Still, Hoseok doesn’t know what else he can offer. He runs his hands along Jimin’s arms, up and down, easing the tension out of them and coaxing Jimin to relax.

“I know.” Jimin rubs his face into Hoseok’s shoulder and the action seems childlike. Comfort-seeking. “Thanks.”

Hoseok kisses the top of Jimin’s head. “How do you feel?”

Jimin sighs and it sounds miserable. “Like I’ll be awake for a long time.”

“All right.” Hoseok pats Jimin’s shoulders, smiling when he looks up. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“Are you sure?” If Jimin is trying to hide his excitement he’s doing a terrible job of it. His face spreads with a smile and he’s already on his feet, bouncing a little despite the extra-sleepy look in his eyes. Hoseok’s chest always swells in that painfully sweet way when he sees that smile push its way onto Jimin’s face. Jimin is someone who deserves to bounce on the balls of his feet in excitement and smile at every given moment. Just simple and constant happiness. Nothing else. Is that too much to ask?

“The town is ours.” Hoseok gets to his feet and stretches out the stiffness from failing to trick his body to sleep. “It’ll be fun.”

Right now, they have four sets of clothes. Sleep clothes, home clothes, hang-out clothes, and decent clothes. Decent clothes are the ones without holes, the ones that their mothers would approve of them going out in if they still had a say in how either of them dressed. Naturally, they change out of their sleep clothes and into their hang-out clothes, the slacks paired with a shirt and a jacket to fight off the morning chill. Sometimes Hoseok considers ditching the jacket, but sometimes Jimin feels extra chilly so Hoseok pulls it on even though he feels overheated in his own skin.

Jimin leaves his key on the dresser between their beds so Hoseok locks the door behind them.

There are a few cars parked on either side of the road and Jimin kicks pebbles and crumpled plastic aside as they traipse down the sidewalk. Hoseok steps around a crack in the cement and says, “Let’s rearrange our room again.”

There’s a half-wall made of cement, separating drain from road, and Jimin climbs onto it while Hoseok steps onto the grass. He plucks a little yellow flower and some blades of grass sprouting from beneath the wall and looks up to find Jimin balancing on the wall and looking down at him with a bright smile that pinches his eyes into crescent moons and lets all his teeth gleam in the morning light.

Jimin laughs, says, “But we did that yesterday?” and Hoseok gives him the little flower. Jimin takes it, sniffs it then stoops down to carefully tuck it behind Hoseok’s ear. He springs back to his feet, wobbling long enough for Hoseok to get ready to catch him, then manages to regain his balance. Hoseok wants to tell him to get down, be more careful, but he’s got that damn sweet smile on his face again and Hoseok can’t bring himself to do anything but be ready for anything.

“Yeah, but I like it better when our beds are shoved together.” Hoseok takes two steps and waits, Jimin takes two steps and waits, and they keep doing that until they’re walking alongside each other.

Jimin is holding his arms out the way children do when they pretend to be aeroplanes, and he twists a few times and smacks the top of Hoseok’s head with his open palm. Hoseok scrunches his face and hisses at him, hand flying up to feel for the flower tucked behind his ear. Somehow it remains in place. “Then why’d you split them in the first place?”

The half-wall comes to an end and Hoseok holds his hand out for Jimin to grab and use as leverage to jump down. When Hoseok says, “I thought you’d sleep better without someone lying awake beside you,” Jimin looks up at him, hand still in his, then slides his fingers between Hoseok’s. Jimin’s fingers are cold and clammy but his palm is warm, and in that moment it’s all very confusing, so Hoseok starts swinging their arms and Jimin helps swing them higher.

“That’s not true,” Jimin says just when Hoseok’s mind starts to wander. Hoseok looks at him and Jimin stares him down as though Hoseok had issued some challenge and Jimin had already met it.

It’s confusing, especially since they’re holding hands somewhere that isn’t on their bedroom floor, but Hoseok may just understand what that look means. “I know that now.”

He may be misinterpreting it, too, but that’s all right.

They jump off the grass and onto the sidewalk, stumbling and jostling each other because they didn’t think to let go of each other’s hands. It hurts a little but they laugh it off until it’s numb and they’re walking down the next block. Jimin squeezes Hoseok’s hand and uses his grip to pull him closer until their shoulders bump so Hoseok steps ahead and pulls Jimin into a twirl. The movement is too jerky for Jimin’s sleepy limbs to follow so he ends up stepping on Hoseok’s toes, which hurts a whole damn lot even through his sneakers, but it was his idea so he hisses out a laugh when Jimin jumps off his feet with an apology. Still, Hoseok is not one to be deterred. It’s easier to dance when there’s a beat to follow, but they have the whole strip of sidewalk to themselves. There’s no way he’s giving up this opportunity to lay dance claim to the sidewalk with Jimin.

This time Hoseok steps close, grabs Jimin’s other hand with the bravery dancing always gives him, and Jimin’s eyes widen then curve with his smile. It’s as though Hoseok whispered some secret to him just like that and now Jimin is spinning them both around the corner, stepping onto the road and twirling when Hoseok lifts their hands over their heads.

Maybe this can’t be called dancing, this sleepy waltz-tango hybrid they’re both capable of moving to better, but they’re both tired in two different ways and no one is around to judge them so what does it matter? When they get to the end of the block they’re exhausted, leaning against each other and laughing so hard their cheeks hurt and their lungs ache with the lack of air.

They’re in the town’s playground; it’s dewy with the morning air and minimised by their height, but they can fit on the swings. The chains squeak when Hoseok tugs at it but Jimin daringly steps onto one and uses his momentum to twist the swing with him on it. It squeaks so loudly that Hoseok bites his mouth closed so he doesn’t shriek loud enough to wake the neighbourhood, and Jimin looks at him over his shoulder, teeth shining in the sunlight. “C’mon, gimme a little push!”

What else can he do? Hoseok pushes him, little nudges easing into full-fledged pushes, and Jimin’s hair is whipping around his head, a faded pink halo. It’s better like this, Hoseok still has the flower tucked behind his ear after all. They wouldn’t want it to blow away. Jimin snorts and doesn’t even pretend to believe the excuse.

There’s a lot to talk about, but there’s nothing they want to talk about right now. The sun rises, warming the air, and its viscous light drips over everything and lines it all silver. It could mean things will get better, but right now all it means is that they should head back before the town comes back to life. Isn’t it weird? That there’s a town that dies at night? Unheard of, right? No one ever talks about these towns anyway.

Jimin’s eyes get that faraway look when he jumps off the swing, so Hoseok gives him his jacket and lets Jimin lean on him all the way back to the apartment.

Hoseok locks the door behind them while Jimin shrugs out of their jackets and piles them on his bed, sitting on them with a yawn. The best pillows are the ones that aren’t pillows. Maybe he should get irritated, but years together have pushed him far past that to the point where he just pinches Jimin’s nose and is satisfied by the whine it pulls from him.

Their room only ever looks spacious when Hoseok is standing in the middle of it, too much space on all sides of him. Too much space between himself and Jimin who’s sitting on the bed pushed against the opposite wall and swinging his leg as he holds his palm out to Hoseok. Way too much space. Hoseok holds the flower by its stem and slides it from behind his ear, handing it off to Jimin who has pulled his journal from the top drawer of the dresser. He opens the book, flips carefully through pages of dried, pressed flowers, and finds a page near the middle of the journal with a space that will hold this new little flower snugly.

Next, he pulls out Hoseok’s old dictionary, fits a folded piece of paper on one of the ruined pages in the middle of the dictionary, and beams when Hoseok scoffs. It’s his old dictionary because Jimin kept using it until it didn’t belong to Hoseok anymore. Hoseok misses it, but he got a new dictionary last week to fill the hole made by its absence. The new dictionary doesn’t quite fit the specific dictionary-shaped hole in his heart: it’s too big so its corners stretch the hole open, but Jimin is happy he can use it to dry his flowers for his journal so Hoseok learnt to live with it. He can still read the entries at the beginning and end of the book anyway.

Jimin twirls the flower between his fingers by its stem and Hoseok blurts, “I think it’s actually a weed.”

“Yeah?” Jimin blinks up at him owlishly.

“Yeah, my sis said my mum said so. She knows all about plants.”

“It’s a pretty weed. I’m keeping it,” Jimin says as he positions the flower between two pieces of paper then closes them into the dictionary. He drops the dictionary on the dresser then rests Hoseok’s new dictionary on it, and Hoseok hisses a warning at him, don’t get any ideas. Jimin chortles, flipping through his journal, and Hoseok drops onto the bed beside him.

“Gonna take a nap?” Jimin has a habit of flipping through his journal when he’s sleepy.

“Yeah.” Jimin runs his fingers ever so carefully over the dried petals of a cherry blossom. “Lie with me?”

“Sure,” Hoseok rests his head on Jimin’s shoulder, patting his knee as Jimin presses his cheek into the crown of Hoseok’s head and slowly turns the page. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Thanks.” Jimin flips through the journal twice, getting clumsier the sleepier he gets, and he’s been snoring softly for maybe two minutes by the time the book finally slips from his hands. Hoseok catches it, luckily, and stretches awkwardly to rest it atop the dresser without shaking Jimin too much. He pulls his arm from between them and cradles Jimin’s head as he eases him back onto the bed. Both their feet are still planted on the floor and they’ll probably be numb by the time Jimin wakes up, but Jimin’s finally asleep. He’d rather not wake him up. Hoseok twists onto his side and props himself up with his arm, reaching over to play with Jimin’s bangs and brush them out of his face when Jimin whines.

It’s seven in the morning and the sunlight can’t stretch far enough through their window to reach Jimin’s bed. Maybe Hoseok should drag his bed over this time. After Jimin wakes up. For now, Hoseok stretches onto his side and lies beside Jimin because that’s what he said he’d do. It’s his top priority.

#jihope bingo #jihope #networkjihope #hopemin #minhope #bts fic #i like how this came out!!#vanilla.txt #lucky 07/07

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