Chapter Text
“How much longer do you plan on lying here like this?” Taehyung groaned, prodding at Jimin’s pinky through a hole in his sock.
“It’s super depressing, plus you’re starting to smell. Like, really bad. I could tell you were still lying here all the way from Kookie’s bedroom,”
Jimin replied with a disgruntled groan, twitching his foot away. Taehyung hummed thoughtfully.
“Come to think of it, it’s kind of starting to have an impact on my sex life. Your depression is transferring to me! We haven’t had sex in nearly a-”
Jimin rose from his slumped position with a vengeful roar, pouncing on Taehyung and knocking him to the floor. Taehyung shrieked loudly, tackling Jimin back.
“The smell, it’s killing me!”
Jimin clobbered him over the head with a stuffed animal.
“Fine, I’ll have a shower, just as long as you promise to never speak to me about Jeongguk’s sex life ever again,” he grumbled.
“No promises,” Taehyung sang, ushering him out of the room.
Jimin stared into the cloudy mirror. He looked awful, face puffy and haggard, greasy hair sticking up in all directions. He tentatively sniffed his armpit and recoiled. Maybe Taehyung had a point after all.
Unrequited love certainly wasn’t a good look on him. Especially when Yoongi couldn’t even bring himself to be in the same room. He’d been avoiding Jimin even more than before, taking steps to actively leave the room, and sometimes even the house, when Jimin entered. A particularly memorable moment had seen Jimin literally running into Yoongi as he left the shower, and Yoongi turning straight back around, heading back into the bathroom, and locking the door behind him. It would’ve been comical if it wasn’t so upsetting. It had been over a month since he’d actually had a nice normal conversation with Yoongi, right before he overheard that stupid call with Taehyung. It had been even longer since they’d been close, lying on Yoongi’s bed listening to music or laughing together at the library, Yoongi always insisting that he had to pay for Jimin’s coffee. He could barely remember what it was actually like to spend time with him, and yet every time he caught a glimpse of Yoongi his heart still leapt and his stomach swirled with butterflies.
More important than his sudden-onset desire to do nothing other than sleep all day, was his newfound passion for obsessing over whatever Yoongi could’ve been about to say when he cut himself off.
Why was Jimin dating any different than Yoongi sleeping around? ‘Because you don’t lo-’ what?! It was driving him up the wall. Yoongi had been so intense, seemingly so desperate for Jimin to understand, and then he just…stopped. Jimin had replayed the conversation a thousand times, including a version when Yoongi had grabbed him by the waist and kissed him until he was dizzy. There had been another, nightmare version of the scenario where Jimin had confessed and Yoongi had laughed in his face. He didn’t like to dwell on that version.
The hot water was doing wonders to clear his mind. He shampooed three times until his hair felt squeaky clean between his fingers. He used the dregs of a body scrub that had been sitting there for months, rubbing it all over until his skin felt raw and tender, but most importantly new. He was halfway through squeezing the last drops of conditioner out of the bottle when a loud thud sounded from outside, startling him into dropping the bottle.
“Is everything ok?” he shouted. No reply. The thudding continued, now accompanied by shouting, and the sounds of something heavy and uncooperative being dragged along the floor.
“Just…let…go,” someone grunted, followed swiftly by an outraged bellow and something hitting the door of the bathroom.
“What the hell are you guys doing out there?” Jimin yelled over the din. He poked his head around the shower curtain just in time to see the lock turning. He screamed and made a grab at the lock, but it was too late. The door burst open, and a cacophony of shouting and swearing poured in. What the fuck were they playing at? As he looked on in horror, a blurry, but distinctly Yoongi-like figure hurtled through the open door, barely catching himself on the sink before he collided with it. The door slammed shut behind him. Jimin ducked back behind the shower curtain, turning the water off and pressing his forehead against the tiles, trying not to hyperventilate. Taehyung was a dead man. He could hear Yoongi throwing himself against the door, the grunts of effort echoing.
“Let me out, you fuckers!” Yoongi insisted, hand coming to hit the door rather lamely. His harsh breathing wasn’t letting up. After a few moments of silence from the other side, he whacked the door again. This time there was a response.
“You two aren’t going anywhere until you sort it out! All of us are sick of the both of you moping around,” Jin said sternly. Even fucking Jin was in on this?
Jimin let out an involuntary whine. This was a nightmare. Trapped in a room with Yoongi. Naked!
If he really took the time to think about it, the only person he had to blame was himself. He’d forced far too many romcoms on Taehyung and Jeongguk and now it was all coming back to haunt him. He’d always thought it was pretty sweet in films, whenever people were forced to confront their blindingly obvious feelings like two oblivious fools. In practice, he had the sense it was going to be quite different, an awkward discussion that would inevitably end with the two of them promising to be civil, perhaps even friendly in group settings. There was even the possibility of a well-meaning but desperately uncomfortable platonic hug.
Shuffling from outside the door.
“We’re leaving so you two can sort it out, but don’t even think about trying to escape. We’ve barricaded the door,”
Yoongi and Jimin groaned in sync. Jimin stabbed his toe into the damp floor. Thank god he’d already washed his conditioner out or he’d have to turn the shower back on and finish. The stairs creaked, indicating that they have well and truly been left alone. Jimin felt sick.
He couldn’t think of anything to say. Any time an idea popped up, he shot it down instantly. Too pathetic, too whiny, too pragmatic. Anyway, he thought bitterly, it was really Yoongi’s job to say something. He’d been the one cutting Jimin off, not the other way around. He watched the shower head steadily dropping, droplets splashing on his calves. He shivered, peeking through the gap in the shower curtain. His towel, his one chance at warmth, was all the way across the room. Yoongi was crumbled in a ball on the floor, back to the door with his head in his hands. He looked pretty much exactly how Jimin felt - completely distraught.
Jimin cleared his throat, making Yoongi jump.
“Can you pass me the towel?” he stuck a hand out.
Yoongi scrambled to his feet, grabbing the towel and handing it over, ever so carefully making sure their hands didn’t touch. It killed Jimin just a bit. He pulled the towel tight around himself, savouring what little warmth it could provide. Every sound was amplified, every movement resounding. He cringed at the sound off his wet feet as he stepped out of the shower. Yoongi was facing the door, hands balled into fists.
“Look, should we just get it over with?” Jimin began. Yoongi’s back went ramrod straight.
“I know I don’t want to be here, and you certainly don’t,”
Yoongi coughed into his fist, nodding. The silence continued.
“You go first,” Jimin ground out through clenched teeth, unable to stop the annoyance from seeping into his tone. Yoongi nodded.
“Right…” he trailed off. “There’s only a couple of months left, and we’re obviously not going to live together next year,”
Jimin scoffed. No shit.
“Let’s just be civil. No trying to annoy each other, no complaining. We’ll be fine. Just until the end of the year,” Yoongi finished. Just as Jimin thought. He sighed.
“Sounds good,”
“It’ll be fine,” Yoogni muttered under his breath.
Jimin could cry. This was the worst possible way for everything to end. No explanation, not even a friendship, just putting up with each other until Yoongi never had to see Jimin again. Yoongi banged on the door. “We’re done,” he shouted.
Steps flew up the stairs, the traitorous stomping of people that Jimin would never, ever, speak to again. At least not until they’d done a lot of grovelling.
“What’s going on in there?” Taehyung’s grinning voice floated through the crack in the door.
“We made up,” Jimin replied, trying to put some pep into his voice. “We’re friends again,”
“Park Jimin,”
Taehyung sounded distinctly less happy than he had a second ago. “Don’t make me say it. You know I will,”
Before Jimin could start protesting in a blind panic, Yoongi interjected.
“No, really, we’re friends,”
Jin cleared his throat. “Min Yoongi, you need to get it together, before I do it for you,”
Now it was Yoongi’s turn to panic.
“No, no, hyung, it’s all fine. Really. All good,” he protested, fake cheer straining through his words.
“We told you, neither of you are coming out until you sort it out. Really sort it out,”
Jimin sighed, hefting himself up on the storage cupboard. May as well get comfortable, because he would happily starve to death before he told Yoongi even a word of what he was feeling. The traitors once again traipsed off downstairs, leaving Jimin to stew in this horrible predicament they’d thrust upon him. Yoongi, however, didn’t seem to share his decision to just wait it out.
“Jin-hyung’s stubborn as fuck. If we don’t do it we’ll be in here for days,”
Jimin tightened his grip on the edge of the cupboard. This was it. His worst dreams coming true.
“You better get it over with then,” he bit out.
When Yoongi finally turned around Jimin could see just how awful he really looked. Purple, bruise-like bags under his eyes, skin even paler than usual. His heart ached. This was Yoongi’s fault, he reminded himself. Yoongi glanced at him briefly before looking away. He heaved a deep breath, pressing a hand to his chest.
“I’ll just say it, ok. Just say it,” he pressed his lips together tight, looking faintly nauseous. The dripping of the shower head continued steadily.
“I’ll just spit it out. You don’t have to say anything, but then it’ll be done and we can leave, alright,” Yoongi said, rocking back on the balls of his feet. He was taking deep, steadying breaths, eyes squeezed shut.
It must be something really awful. Maybe he thought Jimin was horrible, selfish and rude, and he couldn’t stand to be around him. The thought made Jimin want to curl up and cry. This was the end.
Yoongi looked like he was psyching himself up to jump off a cliff. Jimin half expected him to start counting down. Three, two, one…
“I love you,”
Jimin’s eyes nearly fell out of his head. He balked, gripping onto the lifeline that was the storage cupboard until he could feel the rough edges embedding in his fingertips. He blinked, mouth gaping. For the first time in a long time, his mind was completely blank. It didn’t make any sense. He’d never been so confused in his life.
“Huh?” he breathed eventually, unable to form any actual words.
“I mean, I’m in love with you,” Yoongi continued, looking so painfully uncomfortable Jimin was almost physically hurting just looking at him. What was going on? There was no way this was real.
Some kind of cruel joke? Maybe Namjoon and Jin were actually still upset with him about the Wonho thing, and this had all been some kind of long con to get back at him. Get Jimin to fall in love with him just so he could turn around and throw it in his face. Maybe he just felt like it, said it purely to see how Jimin would react.
Jimin took a shaky breath, tears beading at his waterline.
“Why are you doing this?”
His voice wobbled. He couldn’t believe that he’d ever been friends with Yoongi, been in love with Yoongi. This was the worst thing anyone had ever done to him. His first love, and now it was being destroyed right in front of his eyes. Yoongi had never done a single thing to indicate that he loved Jimin back, no matter how much Jimin wished it could be true. Every single glimmer of hope had been crushed by Yoongi running away from him, or sleeping with someone else, or just plain ignoring him.
“Jimin-ah, please, just let me explain,”
Jimin wiped his face roughly.
“Just stop it,” he choked out, scrunching his eyes tight. On top of everything else, it would just be embarrassing for the others to open the door and find Jimin sitting there sobbing. Yoongi stared at the floor, scuffing his foot along the tiles.
“I’m sorry, Jimin-ah. It doesn’t have to ruin anything, I promise. I can-” he paused to take a huge, gasping breath. “I can deal with it. At least for the next couple of months,”
Jimin’s head spun. He so desperately wanted to believe it, but there just wasn’t any way, unless Yoongi was somehow secretly the best actor in the world, and had managed to hide his feelings for Jimin for months and months. After all that he’d been through, spending night after night crying his eyes out about Yoongi, pathetically cherishing every tiny bit of attention, he was too frustrated to deal with this.
“This is so fucking stupid,” he spat.
Maybe if he could just get Yoongi to stop talking and leave him alone, this would all go away.
The bags under Yoongi’s eyes seemed to grow darker even as Jimin looked on. And yet, he persevered.
“I just had to tell you before the end of the year,”
Jimin threw his hands up. “This is such bullshit! You’re always avoiding me. You haven’t even spoken to me for weeks, and now you expect me to believe that you love me?”
Yoongi’s mouth pulled downwards.
“I know I’ve been unfair to you. I shouldn’t have ignored you but I just didn’t know what to do. I know you don’t feel the same way, but, fuck, it feels so good to finally say it. God knows Namjoon and Jin-hyung are sick to death of me talking about you,” he finished with a rueful smile.
“You’re lying. I don’t know why, but you are. You don’t even like me. You think I’m annoying, you think I’m messy, you hate that I never take the bins out on time-”
“Why would I lie about this?”
“I don’t know. I don’t have a clue. Some kind of weird vendetta? When did all of this even start then, if you’re so in love with me?”
“The coffee shop,”
Jimin just looked at him blankly. They’d been to so many coffee shops, so many times. There hadn’t been anything particularly special about any of them. Unless…
“Right at the start. When you wanted to make a truce. You made some stupid joke about it feeling like you were on the Apprentice. I couldn’t stop thinking about your laugh,”
Jimin stared at him suspiciously. He could feel himself swaying, being won over. What would be the harm just to play along, to pretend that he believed, just to get a few minutes of happiness, no matter how fleeting and false. It was a terrifying thought, Yoongi just turning around and leaving, but something in Yoongi’s eyes looked so genuine, so defeated.
“How do you even remember that? I haven’t thought about that in forever,”
“You’re all I think about,” Yoongi said quietly.
Jimin swallowed harshly. If this was all a joke, so be it. He pushed himself off the cupboard.
“Please tell me you’re not lying about this,”
“I would never,”
That was all it took for Jimin to move forward, curling his hands into Yoongi’s hoodie and pressing their lips together. Yoongi gasped, rough and broken, before taking Jimin’s face in his hands and kissing him deeply. To Jimin, it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. There was no finesse this time, none of the knee trembling neck kisses there had been last time, just desperation to be as close as humanly possible. Yoongi’s hands moved to his bare back, burning a trail down to his waist before pulling him in tightly, crushing him against Yoongi’s body.
It felt like floating. He could do this forever. It was everything he’d ever dreamt of, but even better.
They broke apart, panting, still holding each other close. Jimin rested his head on Yoongi’s shoulder, waiting with bated breath for Yoongi to say something.
After a moment of silence, Yoongi wheezed out a breathless laugh, squeezing Jimin even tighter.
“I’m so confused,” he murmured into Jimin’s ear.
Jimin shrugged.
“I love you,”
Yoongi pulled back to study his face. He was wearing the same look of incredulity that Jimin was sure he’d had on not ten minutes earlier.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Excuse me, you never said anything either,” Jimin retorted.
“I just…”
“I thought you didn’t like me back. I mean, any time I thought you might like me, you just left, or you’d have someone else over for the night. I spent so many fucking nights crying over you,”
Yoongi swallowed guiltily. He pressed a gentle kiss to Jimin’s neck.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
“I was so scared. I was trying to forget about you. You were freaked out, y’know, after the karaoke thing. You obviously realised I liked you,”
Jimin poked him in the chest.
“I wasn’t freaked out. I was totally ecstatic when I saw that video. I thought that you liked me, but then you had that girl over, and I realised that I was wrong,”
Yoongi groaned.
“Jihyo’s gonna have a field day with this. She told me I should’ve just gone for it. Fucks’ sake. I’m so stupid,”
Jimin pulled on the string of Yoongi’s hoodie, twirling it around his finger.
“We’re both stupid,”
Yoongi smiled, his gaze darting all over Jimin’s face. “You’re so beautiful. I love you,”
Jimin’s breath hitched. He felt like his heart was about to burst.
“I love you too,”
Their lips met again, steadier this time, more insistent, hands roaming freely. Jimin sighed. This is what it was supposed to feel like, how it was meant to be. He couldn’t get enough. It didn’t take long for Yoongi’s shirt to join Jimin’s pile of clothes on the floor.
They were so wrapped up in each other that they didn’t even notice the shuffling outside the door until Taehyung let out a screech of delight.
“That’s more like it,”
Jin nodded approvingly.
“Oh my God, go away,” Jimin whined.
“I want a mention at the wedding,” Hoseok shouted.
“Why the fuck would you get a mention,” Yoongi replied, tone scathing as he helped Jimin pull his hoodie on. “You didn’t help at all,”
Hoseok wagged his finger. “Uh, uh, uh. I knew this was gonna happen from the very beginning. That’s why I suggested you guys should live together. I even put it in my diary,”
A chorus of complaints and laughter broke out, Jimin holding Yoongi back as he stretched his hands towards Hoseok's neck. Hoseok just grinned.