idk if you do this anymore but i really love your writing and after the last run ep i'm in need of a jikook hc where jk is jm's coach (an athlete and a coach being in love isn't really a new concept for someone who's watched yoi lmao).. if you write it thank you so much and if not it's totally okay 😊
here’s a short thing of jimin learning judo from jungkook!au !!
Jimin plops down on the mat, worn out and panting. “You’re a monster, you know that?”
“Flattery won’t get you anywhere,” Jungkook snorts, crouching until they’re eye-level. “What was that move you tried to do just now? I didn’t teach you that.”
Jimin pouts. “It was nothing. It didn’t work anyway, so - ”
“No. If it were anyone else, you’d have gotten them on their back at the very least.” Jungkook’s brow ticks in realization. “Hey. You’ve been going to Hoseok for pointers again, haven’t you?”
“No. Of course I - Jungkook, no.” But quickly, as usual, Jimin’s defenses crumble in the face of Jungkook’s intense, withering stare. “Okay - maybe I did, so what?”
“Why?” Am I not good enough for you? Jungkook doeesn’t say. Jimin hears it anyway and whines.
“It’s not like that, Kook, it’s just…”
“If you wanted him to be your coach, why’d you come to me?” Jungkook mutters, sitting back on his haunches and running a frustrated hand through his hair. Jimin can’t place the exact nature of the look on his face - whether it’s irritation or jealousy, or something in between.
After too long a silence, Jungkook gets to his feet, turning to stalk off and brood like he often does, when he gets too worked up and has to take a breather before he ends up taking it out on Jimin. Or when he has too much energy to spare and needs to burn some off, alone, where no one will break and bleed under his fists. Sometimes, Jungkook doesn’t like to talk about things, preferring to punch it out.
Jimin scrambles up and latches onto his hand before he can go, palms clammy and shaky from exertion.
“I wanted to impress you,” Jimin whispers.
Jungkook stops in his tracks. He faces Jimin, large eyes widened with shock. “You - what?”
“I wanted to impress you, so I asked Hoseok-hyung to show me a flashy move. He - ” Turning bright red, Jimin sputters, “Don’t laugh, you asshole!”
Choking back the cackles, Jungkook reels Jimin in closer, blocking Jimin’s feeble attempts at smacking some sense into him through his chest. “You wanted to impress me, huh.”
“Shut up. I - I’m never telling you anything ever again,” Jimin threatens, voice wobbly as Jungkook leans down into his space. His attempt at maintaining a fair distance between them has him arching backwards, cheeks aflame.
Jungkook’s smug grin kind of makes him wish he hadn’t fucked up the throw last minute. But it’d been nice to wipe that look off Jungkook’s face even for a second. “So, what was the move he taught you?”
“Hoseok-hyung called it a - a “dead tree drop”?”
“Hm.” Jungkook releases him abruptly. Jimin almost falls backwards and rights himself with a glare. “That’s one name for it. It’s also called the Kuchiki taoshi, or single leg takedown,” he tells him. “Show me again.”
“I - Huh?”
“Try the throw on me,” Jungkook reiterates impatiently.
“You’re just going to pin me down again if I try.”
Jungkook laughs, and the sound warms Jimin all the way to his belly. “Damn. Caught,” he snickers.
And for a moment, Jimin forgets how tired he is - how his whole body aches from head to toe. Jungkook can get so rough when they spar, Jimin often goes home with bruises on his shins and pink finger marks on his arms and back from where Jungkook had grabbed onto him. Even days later he can feel the ghost-like hold Jungkook has on him, both mentally and physically. His roommate has raised one too many eyebrows at them, wondering why Jimin keeps going back to judo when he’s not particularly invested in it in the first place. Jimin always shrugs, doesn’t have it in him to explain.
It’s not really judo that Jimin’s in love with after all, just Jeon Jungkook.
“No, but seriously, try it again. You just need to fix your posture a bit, but it was good. It was a good start, Jimin.”
As much as Jimin can’t stand Jungkook’s teasing, he can’t stand his praises even more. “It was - Thank you, but it wasn’t - I didn’t even get you,” Jimin says embarrassedly.
“Show me again,” Jungkook prompts, the look on his face softening.
Jimin edges closer, unsure. Jungkook doesn’t budge when Jimin hesitantly bends down to take hold of his thigh. He peers up at Jungkook’s expression and swallows tightly. “Do… Do you want me to try the throw?”
Jungkook stares down at him wordlessly for several long moments.
“What - ” Jimin barely has time to feel a sense of foreboding at the grin that stretches Jungkook’s lips before he brings his hand to Jimin’s hair, petting and ruffling his hair aggressively. Jimin straightens with an indignant squawk because - his hair - and makes a valiant effort to move the strands back to their rightful place. Then with heightened resolve, he throws himself at Jungkook in response, reaching up to enact his revenge.
Jungkook’s laughing, barely managing to keep his head out of Jimin’s reach.
“Hold still, you giant brat,” Jimin bites out.
“Is that any way to talk to your teacher,” Jungkook chortles, but his laughter breaks off when Jimin clambers onto his back, locking his legs around his middle and proceeds to make a mess out of his hair. “You’re gonna get it, Jimin,” he growls.
Jimin hates the way his stomach flips at the warning; the way it clenches when Jungkook manages to grab hold on him, sling him over his shoulder in one smooth motion before sending them both falling down onto the mat. At the last second, he switches their position, keeping Jimin’s body cushioned above him.
“I should make you run laps for this,” he murmurs, and his voice reverberates where their chests are pressed together. Jimin can’t tell if he’s serious, but he isn’t going to risk it.
“You started it,” Jimin says breathlessly. Jungkook looks like a dream come true, hair disheveled and a thin sheen of sweat on his skin, and all of it Jimin’s doing.
“No, you did. When you went to Jung Hoseok for help instead of me.”
“Can you let it go?” Jimin whines, though the happiness that colours his tone when Jungkook wraps his arms around him to keep him still is blatant for all ears. “I already told you why I did it.”
Jungkook, with his tongue pressed against his cheek in petulance and obviously not letting it go, mutters, “Yeah, whatever. Don’t do it again. I’m your coach. You can’t go fraternizing with the enemy.”
“Competition,” Jimin corrects. “Not enemy.”
It’s not, but Jimin knows when he’s fighting a losing battle. “Alright,” he acquiesces. “I won’t go to Hobi-hyung for help with judo.”
“’Hobi-hyung’?” Jungkook echoes. “When’d he become ‘Hobi-hyung’? His first name is Competition - ”
“Jungkook, oh my god.”
“You’re not gonna lose to him at the next tournament, you got that Jimin? He’s gonna eat your tiny little fists and - ”
“Jungkookie,” Jimin says with increasing exasperation.
“You’re gonna stand up there on the podium with that gold fucking medal around your neck, and he’s gonna bask in awe as you dead tree kick everyone’s ass after I help you make it perfect - ”
Jimin can’t help the giggles that bubble up, both at the serious set of Jungkook’s brows and the competitive fire burning in his eyes. “Alright. Whatever you say.” He sits up, and Jungkook follows suit. Jimin’s on his lap now, and he tries not to notice that fact. Tries.
“Your stance was a little too high just now. You need to lower yourself more, your center of gravity, and your grip wasn’t in the right place. You need to - ”
“Slow down, you’re rambling,” Jimin says with great fondness.
Jungkook pauses for a breath. “… And - ”
His eyes widen for the briefest moment, before they shut. Jimin doesn’t know where the sudden courage had come from, but this close to Jungkook’s face, Jimin felt brave. It doesn’t feel so out of reach when their bodies are flush together, and Jungkook’s hands are coming up to frame his cheeks, still warm from exertion. Their mouths coming together, again and again, Jungkook’s tongue sliding against his, feels just like another one of their sparring matches.
When they break apart, panting heavily, Jungkook’s got that boyish grin on his face - the one that gets Jimin’s insides all twisted into knots, every damn time without fail. “You need to work on your technique.”
“Fuck off,” Jimin complains. Then, softer, and so fucking in love with Jeon Jungkook: “You gonna show me how it’s done, golden boy?”
“It’ll be my pleasure.”