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There are very few things in the world that truly grate on Yoongi’s nerves.
- When the sunlight creeps in his bedroom window, on the days when he was up far too late the night before; albeit the countless number of times he's shut the blinds (he's positive he did), some always manages to sneak through, successfully waking him hours before his mind was ready.
- When his roommate (and best friend) Hoseok always steals the last banana milk, even if Yoongi writes his name all over the damn bottle. (It's not that big, there's not that much space to scribble on, you'd think he'd get the point after four years?)
- And finally, when his favorite study room is taken in the library, the one by the far back window where it's warm, and honestly, the best place for Yoongi to sleep in between classes.
And as his luck would have it, one of the three things happened to him today. Needless to say, he was in a shitty mood.
“What's got your panties in a bunch?” the few remaining sips were slurped through the straw between Hoseok’s lips after he spoke, the sound irritating, like nails on a chalkboard. It was the last damn banana milk.
Hoseok was very aware of the state his friend was in, the sneer upon his face one that he'd seen a thousand times; he bit back a smirk as he continued to sip on his drink. When he first became roommates with Yoongi back in their freshman year, he'd been intimidated by the fury that would permeate from the small boy. But over time, he'd realized he meant no harm, and found infinite fun in taking the last banana milk simply because it drove Yoongi crazy.
“Nothing,” Yoongi grumbled, throwing in a glare for good measure, before shoving his bag over his shoulder and slamming his beanie upon his head; he was going to be late for class if he didn't hurry the hell up.
“Have a nice day, sweetie!” Yoongi mumbled a few choice words under his breath as he saw Hoseok wave and smile enthusiastically in the corner of his eye, slamming the door in his face as he headed outside. The bitter winter air invaded his skin, the bite of the icy wind causing him to inhale a sharp intake of breath into his lungs.
He was on his way to his first nine am lecture of the semester, which was his least favorite of all of his classes. It was a easily a blow off lesson, one of those stupid gen eds he kept putting off every year when he was making his schedule; if it wasn't for the fact that he wouldn't graduate without this credit, he'd skip it in a heartbeat.
Yoongi is in is final year of university, a senior with a bright future in the field of nursing, already in line for a scholarship for grad school following his time here. Despite his appearance and rather off putting nature, taking care of others was one thing Yoongi could say was a true pleasure in his life. He had watched too many friends, too many family members treated unfairly and cared for in all the wrong ways by supposed “professionals” that it urged him to take matters into his own hands.
Social Science is not the ideal way to spend his mornings, he'd much rather be passed out face down upon his bed, surrounded by a mountain of pillows and tangled in warm, soft sheets. The only solace he had was the quaint coffee shop down the street on the corner of campus, where he can invariably count on the barista to make him the perfect Americano.
The bell dings as he enters the store, the comforting familiar smells wafting through his nose as he headed towards the front counter. With a single nod from the barista and a confirmation by Yoongi of a 5,000 Won note, within minutes his fingers were holding his beloved coffee, and he was out the door. Upon the first sip he thought of the countless nights spent at that very shop, exhausting their hours of free wifi on final papers and research, the managers pitying him and leaving the lights on long after closing.
As he walked across campus, the ice clanked against the plastic of his cup, the condensation seeping into the fabric of his glove. It seemed ironic that he ordered a cold drink when it was ten below outside, but Yoongi knew a long time ago he was a bit of a masochist, and he quite liked it that way.
Besides, perhaps the cold would help wake him up further instead of just the caffeine itself.
He arrived with five minutes to spare, slouching in a seat near the back, pulling his beanie further upon his head and crossing his arms in an irritated manner. The class hadn't even started and he was already annoyed; it didn't help that some stupid freshman sat in front of him and was blocking any solid view he had. But, he supposed, that was a blessing after all; he could then sink into his chair, and take a much wanted nap.
Any hope of such things were depleted when he felt a light tap upon his shoulder, and an even softer voice ask him, “This is the correct room for Social Science with Professor Kim, right?”
Yoongi merely grumbled, a brief shake of his head being all he offered, as he heard a mumble of thanks from the boy next to him. He heard the door to the classroom close and the clearing of a throat from the front of the room, signaling the start of the lecture; it was only then that Yoongi knew it was safe to close his eyes.
He could sense the lights were soon turned off, roll call successfully completed, as the professor began to show a presentation. Everything went into one ear and out the other, the voice becoming a muffled buzzing in his eardrums. He was seconds away from a true, deep sleep when he once again felt a light tap upon his shoulder.
Yoongi’s eyes remained closed, hoping his quite obvious state would give the boy a hint to leave him alone, but he was mistaken, as he repeated his annoying tapping until Yoongi slowly lifted his eyelids, turning just enough to face the culprit, about to tell him to fuck off and leave him be.
But the words were caught in his throat the moment his gaze locked on the boy beside him.
Goddamn it, he's cute.
More than cute, actually. His button nose and plump pink lips were perfectly enticing, but his gentle brown eyes had Yoongi melting in his seat.
Goddamn it.
“Sorry,” even his voice was sweet like honey, “Do you have a pen I could borrow?” the words drawled from his tongue in a tired Busan dialect, his nose scrunching as a faint blush formed upon his cheeks.
“It's the first day and I'm already a mess,” he chuckled.
Yoongi stayed still, his hands that were buried in the crooks of his arms formed into tight fists as he debated his next move. A pen, a simple request, and he certainly had a fair share; but in all honesty, he sort of just wanted to continue to stare at him for a few seconds longer as he spoke.
What was he, twelve?
Nodding his head, he uncrossed his arms, reaching into the depths of his backpack on the floor and grabbing the first pen he could get his hands on. He silently reached out and presented it to him, the boy taking it with a thankful smile.
“You're a lifesaver,” he said. Yoongi could feel the warmth radiating from his skin when their fingers brushed. “I'm Jimin,” he flashed Yoongi another grin, and Yoongi could feel how hard his heart was pounding against his chest.
Jimin.
“Yoongi,” his tone was rough, but Jimin continued to smile, eventually facing the front of the room once more.
Would he really have a reason to show up for this class now, after all?
Goddamn it all to hell.
Jimin considered himself to be a studious individual, one to keep up with his assignments in a timely fashion (well, for the most part), one to take pride in his schoolwork and put everything he had into making it as impeccable as possible, without any help from anyone but himself, if he could help it. He admitted long ago that he had without a doubt, undeniable perfectionist tendencies (Taehyung would be the first to confirm it), and that is usually what ended up being what tainted his relationships with people whenever group projects were assigned, wanting to have the control.
Being a social science major with a focus on psychology, it was just expected that you were on your own, that much of the work that is done in the core classes is best tackled solo. It wasn't that he had trouble working with others persay, it was simply the fact that he tended to do better alone, and he didn't mind it that way, he actually preferred it.
So when the professor assigned the project for the semester that was worth eighty percent of their final grades (Jimin just about had a heart attack), he was already meticulously planning every detail down to his conclusion paragraph inside his head, his sole theory he was focusing on already brewing inside his mind, was brought to a screeching halt the moment the word partners was uttered from the front of the room.
“Partners?”
He whispered to himself, already dreading having to make the arrangements and configure and coordinate opposing schedules, already dreading the idea of having to rely on someone who more than likely would have him do all of the work and get hardly any credit for it. He couldn't stand group projects, and this was no different.
Until he heard something he was least expecting.
“Your groups will not be randomly chosen, nor have they been pre-planned. This will be a simple arrangement of meeting your fellow neighbors; the person to your left, go ahead and introduce yourself, for you have now met your partner for the rest of the semester,”
Jimin remained quiet, not moving for a minute as he closed his eyes, sighing at what was about to come; he shifted his head to the right, making sure no one was there before turning his head to the left, as instructed, only to realize that of course it would be the one person whom he spoke to mere moments ago. The one person who he had asked to borrow a pen, the one person who caused a silly fervor inside his chest from a single, accidental touch.
He craned his neck forward a tad, trying to see around the desk to make sure nobody else was beside the older boy, inherently glad that it appeared to be them and them alone in this row of seats; his lips cracked a warm smile, holding his hand out to properly introduce himself at a normal voice level versus the quiet whisper from before.
“Hello partner, I'm Jimin,”
The boy whom he learned prior was named Yoongi slowly sat up in his chair, tugging back the sleeve of his sweatshirt, Jimin taking note of the tiny, bony wrist attached to long, delicate fingers. He had stormy silver hair that fell over his eyelashes, pushed down further by the gray fabric of his beanie, but Jimin could still spy the alluring brown eyes, his gaze warm despite his aloof character.
“Hello partner, I'm Yoongi,”
His lips curved upwards into a crooked grin after he spoke, a rugged, raspy tone, placing his hand within Jimin’s small grip, the younger boy admiring the heat that was produced when their palms connected.
There was something to be found here, something about Yoongi that made him curious to find out more about the boy in front of him, but he just couldn't put his finger on it.
But one thing’s for sure, he was definitely looking forward to working with him, which surprised even himself.
They exchanged emails, phone numbers, anything that might be needed, in order to stay in contact and keep organized throughout the project; Jimin would be lying if he'd said he didn't thank whatever deity there was that he was able to get his number on such effortless terms, because he wouldn't have had the courage to ask for it at any other time - at least not for a long while, if at all.
Jimin was the type of person who longed from afar, observed the characteristics of an individual, getting to know them through their actions and unspoken words, always the one to wait to be approached, too scared to take a chance for himself; too scared to have a real shot at happiness, for the chaste fact that he has a deplorable fear of rejection.
Needless to say he hasn't been in very many relationships, if you could even call them that. He dated a boy once for a few months during his freshman year of high school, and the entire thing was based on the mere need to have physical intimacy; nothing more, nothing less, at least for his partner. For Jimin, of course he wanted more, but he was too shy, too afraid of saying the wrong thing that he ended up looking like the bad guy in the end for terminating the relationship far too soon. But he will say, despite it all, he was able to experience many firsts, and for that he was thankful, even if it was just a little.
With a clap of hands, before they knew it, the professor dismissed the students, Yoongi giving Jimin a small wave as he got up from his desk, and left the classroom, Jimin staring as he walked away.
This was definitely going to mess with Jimin’s head, and he was terrified.
“You know, your face will get stuck like that if you keep pouting,” with a roll of his eyes, Yoongi ignored Hoseok as they waited in line for lunch. He reached into his pocket for some spare change, giving the cashier the exact amount for his meal as he made way to their favorite booth; he knew Hoseok would follow eventually.
This local diner was a tradition of sorts for them, somehow always ending up here after a late night of partying, being too lazy to cook a proper meal, having been going here since day one of their university career. The owner knew their names and orders by heart, usually already having everything ready at the table for them before they even arrive, unless it was a busy time, such as now.
Yoongi didn't even know why he was upset; he had gotten over the last banana milk hours ago, but he couldn't seem to get the irritated look off of his face.
Nor could he get Jimin off of his mind.
Hoseok joined him soon after, taking a bite of a fry as he observed his friend; he was used to seeing him in this type of mood, it wasn't uncommon, but there were many tiny differentiations that would give Hoseok a hint of what could be racing through his mind. For example, if he would purse his lips up - almost in a snarl - and his nose would scrunch, he was normally mad at him for something small and easily forgettable. If Yoongi was staring off into space absentmindedly, gently playing with his fingers, it usually had to do with school or an upcoming final, the gears turning wildly inside his head.
Whereas if Yoongi’s features took on a miffed expression, his eyebrows furrowed, eyes focused solely on whatever was in front of him and his jaw clenched tight, it had to do with relationships.
Hoseok had only seen Yoongi together with one person throughout their entire friendship, a sophomore at the time named Jihoon, the relationship lasting for two whole years before dissipating into thin air with no trace to speak of. Yoongi was an absolute mess for months, becoming more reserved than what was typical for him (which was fairly consistent), hardly leaving his room unless he entirely needed to. He had missed practically a complete semester of classes, the university threatening to dismiss him as a student if he didn't get his act together.
Yoongi wasn't someone who made friends easily as is, and the few he had he successfully pushed away despite all their efforts to try and help him get back on his feet; but they couldn't take it anymore, they couldn't take his never-ending aura of gloom and pessimism, saying their piece and leaving him like all the others. Hoseok, of course, was different, Hoseok was the only individual to stick around; and for that, Yoongi will be forever thankful.
Without Hoseok, Yoongi is fairly certain he wouldn't be around anymore.
But Hoseok hasn't seen Yoongi behave in such a manner in a long time; so naturally, he was beyond curious as to who could affect his friend so deeply when it was only the first day of the semester.
“Who is it?”
Yoongi jumped, startled by the noise of Hoseok’s voice, completely lost inside his head.
“I have no idea what you're talking about,” he mumbled a reply, before taking a bite of his sandwich.
Hoseok had no problem forming a smirk with ease, flashing one confidently in Yoongi’s direction.
“Yes you do, stop lying to yourself,” he spoke with a sing-song tone, knowing he was successful when Yoongi bit his lip; because nobody knew him better.
Hoseok would argue he knew Yoongi better than Yoongi knew himself.
Yoongi remained silent, the sound of faint conversations and the hustle of the lunch time rush took over the air between them. Hoseok let him be, he didn't push, he kept himself composed and let his friend speak in his own time. He knew this wasn't easy.
With a shallow breath, he spoke.
“I finally found a motivation to show up to class, I guess,”
And that was all Hoseok was going to get.
For now.
“How can you still be sleeping, you idiot?” Jimin came home to the familiar sight of his roommate and best friend, Taehyung, passed out upon the couch in the same position he'd left him this morning when he'd went to class. Taehyung had his own schedule starting later on in the afternoon, meaning the boy would be up for hours on end binging television shows and endless snacking until the late hours of the morning.
It was currently past noon, and Taehyung’s class started at one; Jimin laughed as he heard his friend snore, taking a pillow that had fallen upon the ground (more than likely from all of Tae’s tossing and turning), smacking him over the head with it until the boy woke up, which was almost instantaneous.
“What the hell was that for?!” Taehyung’s voice was scratchy as it came from his throat, rubbing his eyes and squinting as they tried to adjust to the sunlight pouring in from the windows in the living room.
“Are you going to go to class today?” Now that he was sure Taehyung was up, he chucked the pillow toward him and it landed on his stomach, dropping his backpack that had been in his opposite hand upon the floor near his feet.
“Shit, is it already that time?”
Jimin shuffled to the kitchen, placing two pieces of bread in the toaster and grabbing the butter from the fridge. He leaned against the counter, arms across his chest as he waited for them, Taehyung slowly rising from his lounging position. He heard his bones crack as he stretched, jumping slightly when the appliance popped the food out a few minutes later, grabbing a knife and scraping the butter upon the surface while they were still hot.
He took a bite of one, and walked over to the couch once more, shoving the second piece in Taehyung’s mouth, knowing the boy hadn't eaten anything since the night before, and wouldn't have enough time before class. His friend took it with a thankful nod, chewing quickly as he got up from the couch.
Taehyung was an English major, and while he appears to be a completely disorganized and neglectful student, he is actually one of the hardest working people Jimin has ever known. He met Taehyung at the beginning of freshman year, both of them living in the same hall, spending countless nights cramming for finals with take out and boba, sharing music recs and a fond guilty pleasure for rom-com dramas.
Taehyung was someone he could trust wholeheartedly, he was someone he knew he could turn to if he ever had any problems he couldn't solve on his own (which most of the time Taehyung can already sense when something is wrong and is two steps ahead of him), and is someone he can sincerely call his best friend, or better yet, a brother; and he is positive Taehyung would say the same, without a doubt.
“How'd your first one go?” Taehyung asked, while looking around the room for his missing sock, which had somehow come off in his sleep.
“It was alright, we were given our group projects for the semester, worth eighty percent of our final grade,” he spoke with a bite to his tone, not happy about the weight of the assignment. He nibbled on his bread while Taehyung was crawling on the floor, looking under the table, until suddenly he shot up, scaring the daylights out of Jimin.
“Group projects? Already?” Jimin nodded, still unsure why he's making such a fuss, before realizing Taehyung knew him better than anyone, and was asking way more than what was spoken.
“I'll be okay, Tae,” Jimin tried to convince him, but Taehyung gave him a look of disbelief, causing Jimin to roll his eyes, “I really will, I promise,”
Taehyung was still unsure, but he didn't have time to press him about it. He knew how Jimin felt about working with other people.
“I think I've actually got a great partner this time around,”
The tone of his voice, the gentle expression upon his face as his lips lifted into a soft smile, Taehyung saw a look upon his friend’s face that hadn't been there before in the two years he's known him; this is something new, this is something he hasn't experienced, but Taehyung was familiar with the warm gaze in his eyes as one that could only amount to one thing.
“You met someone, didn't you?” Taehyung teased him, taking large strides to meet Jimin in the kitchen, rushing over as a large smirk appeared on his face, nudging him with his elbow until Jimin finally shoved him to stop.
“It's my partner for class, that's all, don't get it twisted,”
“Whatever you say, Jiminnie, whatever you say,” Taehyung leaned forward to take a bite of the remaining piece of toast Jimin had in his hand, his own long since finished, “Thanks for breakfast, I'll see you later!”
And with a bright smile, Taehyung ran out the door, backpack slung over his shoulder.
Jimin shook his head, but chuckled nonetheless.
“He's just my partner,”
Yoongi always reserved the same study room in library, every Thursday afternoon between his morning and midday classes; it was his favorite spot, the one by the far back window where it's warm, and honestly, the best place for Yoongi to sleep in between lessons. On the rare occasion he would have leftover homework from the night before, he would cram before his next lecture, but mostly he enjoyed the simple solace he had of being alone.
And as his luck would have it today, to his dismay, the room had been filled.
“Son of a bitch,” Yoongi trudged over to the area regardless, curious to see who had taken his slot on the list (also to give them a piece of his mind), only to be pleasantly surprised that it was none other than Jimin.
How could he go in there now, and curse him out? He couldn’t.
Yoongi observed him through the glass window next to the door, seeing the way the sun shined brightly behind him (and wishing he could feel its warmth, wanting desperately to take a nap), the table in front of him scattered with large textbooks and several notebooks, Jimin glancing every now and then at his laptop beside him. He took a sip of his iced coffee, and gazed upwards, sensing someone’s eyes upon him and noticed Yoongi standing there looking like a deer caught in headlights, pivoting his feet trying to decide if he wanted to bolt out of there in that instant; but ultimately, with a friendly wave from Jimin, he sighed as he opened the door and went inside.
“Hyung, I’m glad I caught you,” he motioned for him to sit down, talking wildly with his hands as his fingers sifted through the various papers lying across the wood, Yoongi glancing at the small, rushed handwriting that took over each page of notes. “I wanted to go over an outline I had in mind for our project, I was thinking of tackling the idea of anthropology, simply toying with the notion of finding out as humans how we’ve evolved our idea of social norms and viewing the world around us -- are you even listening?”
Jimin teased Yoongi with a smile, keen to notice the blank expression upon Yoongi’s face, but in all fairness, Yoongi didn’t hear a word.
He was too busy watching the way the words formed against his lips, the way his tongue slid over the skin every so often, entranced by the soft tone of his voice.
And if he was being honest with himself, he hadn’t a clue of what Jimin was speaking of.
“What’s your major?” he heard Jimin ask, leaning his elbow upon the table, nestling his chin in his palm.
Yoongi began to fiddle with the pen in his hands, twisting the utensil between his fingers, “I’m pre-med, studying nursing, specifically,” He shot a glare at Jimin as the younger boy scoffed, hiding a chuckle behind his hand.
“I’m sorry you just...you don’t seem like the type,” Yoongi tilted his head at that statement.
“And what type do I seem like to you?” Jimin’s eyes grew wider at the question, thrown off guard by the seemingly irked emphasis Yoongi placed upon his words.
“Uh, uhm,” He stuttered, unable to think of what to say next, intimidated by the glower Yoongi was throwing at him, until it was mere seconds before the scowl became a smile, Jimin jumping as he felt Yoongi’s foot lightly tap his calf.
“I’m only messing with you,” he fidgeted with the few strands of hair that had fallen over his eyes, “I get that quite often,”
Jimin let free the air that had been trapped inside his lungs, a relieved sigh as Yoongi scooted his chair a hair closer to where Jimin was seated, causing the same breath to be caught right back as soon as it was released.
“Now, explain to me what you were going on about, so I can understand it,” Yoongi flashed a grin in his direction, surprising even himself with how confident he was becoming around the boy, considering most of the time he was an internal mess whenever he laid eyes on him.
Jimin returned the smile, his gaze lighting up as he went to talking about the project once more, the excitement in his voice unable to deny, Yoongi learning soon after that this was exactly the major he was studying (although Jimin made sure to tell him that he wants to focus on psychology above all else), and suddenly everything made much more sense.
In the coming months their impromptu meetings became weekly occurrences, Yoongi now writing two names instead of one for his favorite study room, each and every time a tiny smile forming on his lips when he scribbled Park Jimin upon the paper. Jimin had come to learn that Yoongi didn’t survive until he had his morning Americano, the younger more than glad to grab him one while in turn grabbing one for himself, figuring out that he too, came to love the stark, black coffee just as much as his heart was beginning to grow fond of the mysterious, sometimes austere character of the boy beside him as the days passed by.
There were more and more instances of brushed hands and hidden smiles, shared pounding heartbeats and witty banter, neither of them aware of just how deep their affection had become, and would only find out in the coming evening when Hoseok invited (more like dragged) Yoongi to a party, Taehyung doing the same for Jimin, knowing he wouldn’t have the courage to show up alone if he had known Yoongi was going to be there.
Let’s be honest, these two would probably spend forever pining over each other unless their friends got involved. It was obvious that Hoseok was going to figure out what was happening with Yoongi eventually, even if Yoongi didn’t tell him himself, Yoongi learning to accept the fact that no matter how hard he tried to keep things private, Hoseok always finds a way.
Yoongi felt his phone vibrate in his pocket as he walked towards campus, unlocking the screen to see a text from Hoseok.
hoseok [8:02am]: Hear me out, I have a proposition for you.
yoongi [8:03am]: Good morning to you, too. Way to sound ominous, there.
hoseok [8:03am]: Oh shut up. I just know that the moment I say it, you’re going to say no, so I wanted to warn you beforehand.
yoongi [8:04am]: Well then why bother asking if I’ll just say no? Spit it out, Hobi
hoseok [8:05am]: Taehyung invited us to his frat tonight, there’s going to be a HUGE party - like we’re talking party of the century - and we’ve gotta go.
Yoongi’s hand stilled when he read over the words on the screen, biting his lip.
yoongi [8:07am]: You’re right, I’m saying no.
hoseok [8:08am]: But you didn’t even hear my proposition! ;-; Think about it - Taehyung is Jimin’s best friend, meaning he’d have to show up, meaning you have to go no matter what.
yoongi [8:08am]: You’re basing this on the fact that they’re friends? Not a real strong argument, genius.
hoseok [8:08am]: How about - we haven’t gotten drunk in a while and it’s past overdue?
Damn it, he’s right. Yoongi typed a response and hit send before his mind could fully process it.
yoongi [8:10am]: Fine, I’m in.
What did he just get himself into?
Yoongi couldn't believe he was actually doing this.
He could feel his insides combusting already and he hasn't even had a sip of alcohol in his system. Hoseok had started early, pounding shots as he got ready, music blasting throughout their apartment, constantly tempting Yoongi with a beer before finally he decided fuck it, and took one huge gulp and sighed as it slid down his throat.
He'd thank Hoseok later.
His friend cheered with a loud scream, ruffling Yoongi’s hair before quickly dashing back down the hallway towards his bedroom to finish getting dressed.
He didn't know the last time he had been to a frat party, let alone a house party of any kind. When he was a freshman and trickling into the beginnings of his sophomore year, him and Hoseok were well known within that crowd, never missing a Thirsty Thursday or an insane weekend of getting absolutely wrecked; it's just what you did. They were the masters at beer pong, nobody could beat them - they were practically undefeatable - until a boy with mesmerizing brown eyes and impeccably styled blonde hair decided to try Yoongi on for size, successfully beating them by one point.
And it was from then on, that he began forming a relationship with Jihoon, including all of the standard late night phone calls and coffee dates, the two of them inseparable - or so it seemed - until Jihoon suddenly left Yoongi in the dark, ghosting him with no trace to speak of. The rest of the story is only followed by a twisted, heartbreaking whirlwind that is forever engrained in Yoongi’s mind.
You never forget your first.
Which is the precise reason Yoongi doesn't step within ten feet of any parties of any kind.
But he supposed, maybe this would be different. Perhaps, he hoped on a whim that Hoseok was right, he might even see Jimin there.
Another sip of beer down his throat, another minute down waiting for Hoseok to get ready; it was a funny turn of events, he mused, considering Yoongi used to be the one who cared more about his appearance between the two of them, Hoseok normally lingering back because of his friend. But since it was Hoseok’s idea to drag him along in the first place, Yoongi supposed he had people he was trying to impress.
By the time Yoongi saw the bottom of the bottle, Hoseok emerged from the hallway, arms spread wide as he displayed himself, Yoongi nodding with a crooked smile as a silent expression of approval of his outfit choice. Yoongi placed the empty glass upon the kitchen table, grabbing his beanie from on top of the couch where he left it last, shoving it on his head as Hoseok threw on his leather jacket.
“Are you ready for this?” Hoseok grinned, throwing his arm around Yoongi’s shoulders as they walked down the street to catch a lift.
“As ready as I'll ever be,” Yoongi shivered, seeing his cold breath form into small clouds as they stepped underneath the street lamp, Hoseok squeezing him in closer for reassurance.
“Dude, you're going to have a great time, I know it,” he shot him a wink, Yoongi shaking his head but unable to fight the smile developing upon his lips. Hoseok was always able to get him in a good mood.
Yoongi dug into his coat pocket for his phone, paying attention to how far away their driver was, hoping like hell he'd get here soon because it was freezing outside. He'd spent most of his day inside, burying himself in work for the project, downing several cups of coffee as he nibbled on some stale potato chips, not eating much at all; which he would probably regret later, the first beer already starting to go to his head.
Once the driver arrived and started taking them to the frat house, Yoongi’s nerves were beginning to grow increasingly more apparent, his foot tapping like crazy, his knee bouncing along with it. He stayed quiet the whole ride there, glancing out the window at the mundane scenery of the campus, hoping to take his mind off of how nervous he truly was; he needed another drink, and he needed one fast.
Luckily the house wasn't too far from their apartment, only about a ten minute drive; the moment they stepped out of the car, Yoongi could hear the bass from the music blasting from inside, people crowded all along the front porch and the lawn, a few individuals already passed out upon the grass. If it was already this chaotic outside, he had a bad feeling it would be even worse when they went in. Yoongi’s anxiety was off the charts, Hoseok sensing his friend's momentary discomfort, patting his back as a means of comfort.
“It'll be fun,”
He spoke quietly, a surprising change in attitude from moments ago; Hoseok wasn't trying to force Yoongi into an uncomfortable situation, he was simply hoping the shift in schedule would be good for him. He knew deep down Yoongi missed the thrill of it all, he just needed a little push.
“Yeah, it'll be fun,”
They walked straight up towards the front door, wondering if they even needed to knock, let alone if anyone would hear it; but before either of them made a move, the door swung open, a wide, smiling Taehyung greeting them.
“Guuuuys! I knew you'd make it! Come on, bring it in!” Taehyung tackled them in a group hug, hints of whiskey wafting from his breath, clueing them in that the party has long since begun.
Hoseok laughed, patting the boy on the back, Yoongi chuckling and doing the same, “Nice to see you, man,”
“Come in, come in!” Taehyung pulled away, his back meeting the surface of the door rather harshly as he stumbled, his arm outstretched to gesture for them to make their way inside.
The house was packed with people, most surrounding themselves by the single designated drink table, littered with full and close to empty bottles of hard liquor, discarded plastic cups and shot glasses, which had also scattered themselves upon the floor. Couples were up against walls, chairs and couches, friends conversing, individuals dancing in the middle of the living room to the booming music through the speakers.
Yoongi took everything in, the familiar sights and sounds causing old, buried feelings to creep up inside his chest, a familiar warmth he hadn't experienced in a long time. He hadn’t realized just how much he longed for the very atmosphere that allowed him to set himself free. And often times, alcohol didn't have to be involved, it was just a nice bonus on top of it all, aiding in calming his nerves down.
He was suddenly startled from his thoughts as he felt a hand on his shoulder, turning to face the person in question.
“I'm going to get a drink, do you want anything?” Hoseok smiled, seeing his friend’s demeanor already changing, Yoongi nodding in agreement as Hoseok left to fetch them a couple of beers, trying his best to push through the crowd.
Yoongi saw a few recognizable faces as he looked around, one being that of Kim Namjoon, a Philosophy major whom he'd had in a couple of his gen eds throughout the years. A great guy, smart as all hell, and not afraid to buckle down and put everything he’s got into his passion. It was admirable, and Yoongi gave him credit for that. They caught each other’s gaze, a mutual nod of acknowledgment exchanged, before Namjoon continued his conversation with his partner, Seokjin. He met Seokjin once, an all around bubbly individual (he gave Hoseok a run for his money, sometimes) and was honestly a bit surprised he ended up with someone like Namjoon; but once he observed them, saw how they hardly ever needed to try, they just knew, he couldn't find anyone more right for each other than those two.
He watched them with a small grin, making a mental note to catch up with them soon. He noticed Hoseok fighting his way back to him, emitting a dramatic sigh as if that was one of the most difficult tasks of his life, handing Yoongi a bottle of beer; unfortunately it felt lukewarm in his palm, Yoongi’s face scrunching into a grimace as he glanced at Hoseok, silently asking for an explanation.
“Not my fault,” he shrugged, taking a sip regardless. “The only ones left were sitting on the kitchen counter, the coolers and the fridge were cleared out,”
Yoongi continued to squirm as he drank, ultimately deciding it was better than nothing at all. Perhaps if they'd gotten here earlier, the selection would be vast, but they both knew the party truly started no later than three hours after it had begun. Besides, Hoseok was already sporting a hefty buzz of his own, Yoongi not far behind, his pride secretly hurt at the fact that his tolerance has gotten so low.
But he had to admit, he was beginning to enjoy himself, and Hoseok couldn't be happier for him.
“What do you say, for old times sake?” Hoseok’s arm wrapped itself around Yoongi’s shoulders for the second time that night, following his friend’s vision to the beer pong table in the middle of the dining room, chuckling to himself as a few freshmen who were currently playing were making complete fools of themselves.
Yoongi couldn't hide his smirk, “You know I can't turn down a chance to whip some freshmen ass,”
“That's the spirit! Let's go show ‘em how it's done,” Hoseok’s voice lowered an octave as he spoke, determination in his eyes as he clinked the top of his bottle against Yoongi’s in a cheers before downing the whole thing and yelling to the entire room to follow them to the beer pong table, because “Shit is about to go down!”
Now this, was something Yoongi had definitely missed. Even when they had been absolutely plastered, they somehow still always overtook the competition, as if the alcohol only enhanced their abilities to play, instead of the opposite effect.
Once they approached the table, the freshmen surrounding it admitted defeat, not even coherent enough to finish what they had started, making it fairly easy for Hoseok and Yoongi to replace them.
“Rack ‘em up,” Yoongi grumbled, motioning for Hoseok to fix the remaining cups on the opposite side of the table back to their original formation, in order to begin the game properly. He gestured to the freshmen lingering around that anyone was welcome to a friendly competition if they wanted to take on and challenge the True champions on campus.
Many of them appeared confused, not having seen the both of them before; but seasoned players amongst the sophomores and higher level classes knew exactly who they were, and were scared shitless.
“I'll play!” a joyful tone rang through Yoongi’s ears, immediately recognizing the playfulness of Taehyung as he rushed forward through the group that had formed. He was still stumbling just as he had earlier, a drink in his hand, but once he finished it in one go, he tossed the cup aside onto the floor, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist. Suddenly his demeanor completely changed, both hands gripping upon the edges of the table, determination rivaling that of Hoseok’s own dead set in his eyes as he stared Yoongi and Hoseok down.
“Let's do this,”
Hoseok rejoined Yoongi on the left side of the table, both boys exchanging a handshake to psych each other up, their hands clapping as they connected.
“You're going to need a partner, Tae,” Hoseok instructed, noticing the lack of presence of another person by his side. Taehyung merely smirked, waving his hand before he opened his mouth to speak.
“Jungkookie, get over here!” the aforementioned boy was next to him in an instant, having been standing near the front of the crowd. He was eager to join, practically leaping towards Taehyung the moment his name was called. Yoongi and Hoseok had seen the young freshman here and there around campus but they didn't know much about him; other than the fact that him and Taehyung were practically attached at the hip, always the ones found wherever trouble followed.
What they had no idea of, was the massive competitive streak the young boy had, which is exactly what Taehyung was banking on.
Beers in hand, each team filled every cup of the arranged triangle with just enough to be considered halfway full (some a tad less; they didn't want to become drunk before it barely started), Taehyung and Hoseok with a ping pong ball in each hand. They both tossed to determine which team would go first, making sure to keep eye contact the entire time, unable to see where their ball was thrown until they heard the swishing sound of the liquid as it hit the surface. Hoseok was one step quicker and landed in a cup first, Yoongi screaming a cheer as he patted Hoseok’s back; they would now be the team to start the game.
What felt like hours was truly only a mere fifteen minutes, shouts and screams from both teams echoing throughout the room whenever a new round began, the cheers of the crowd beside them only fueling their adrenaline. It was neck and neck, Yoongi and Hoseok taking turns with drinking each cup Taehyung and Jungkook earned, the same to be said for the opposing side. Yoongi hadn't felt this type of electric energy flow throughout his veins for a long time, feeling absolutely alive as him and Hoseok played easily the best game they'd ever had.
Unexpected to them, was the drive Jungkook had to win - he had asked Taehyung more than once if Please, hyung, let me take this shot for you, his limbs giddy and his fingers twitching, confident in his skills to make each and every throw count, despite the rules of needing to alternate between players. He was high on adrenaline, the alcohol only enhancing his experience, while Taehyung became increasingly more loose with his movements, his aim dissipating more often than not; but it was clear long into the game that Taehyung was only in it for the fun and the thrill, while Jungkook took this entirely too seriously.
Then again, so did Yoongi.
Each side only had two cups remaining, Hoseok taking aim for his next throw, crooking his elbow and tossing it with ease, the ping pong ball swirling inside before plopping down into the liquor. Jungkook made a grunt of disappointment as he tried to remove the ball before it completely stilled, but he was unsuccessful, just not quick enough. Hoseok screeched as he formed his fingers into fists, spreading his arms out wide as his head fell back while he screamed in victory, the people along with him. Yoongi slammed his hand with Hoseok’s in a hard high five, now only one cup remaining for their team.
It was now Jungkook’s turn, his tongue peeking out from his lips as he concentrated, having to blink a few times in order for his eyes to focus; the numerous cups of beer were finally catching up with him. He tightened his grip upon the ball between his fingertips, lightly throwing it across the table, his eyelids fluttering shut and a sigh of relief leaving his chest as it bounced lightly off the surface and sunk into a cup. The cheers all around him brought him back to the present, Taehyung leaping onto him in a bear hug and nuzzling into his hair, causing the young boy to smile, a faint pink dusting his cheeks.
Yoongi shook his arms, his legs, his entire body to completely prepare himself for what was about to happen. There was only one cup left, and if he didn't make it, Jungkook and Taehyung had a very high chance of winning this entire thing on their next turn. Hoseok came up behind him and began massaging his shoulders haphazardly, Yoongi craning his neck side to side until it cracked. He released the air from his lungs, trying to relax, Hoseok placing the ball into his palm. He could hear the shouts from all around but he ignored them, biting his lower lip as he got into position, moving his hand back and forth before finally tossing the ball and--
He missed.
He fucking missed.
He swirled around on the tips of his toes as he screamed out in anger, hearing the sympathetic cries from the crowd, kicking his foot at the ground; Jungkook and Taehyung on the other hand, were smiling brilliantly, knowing they now had the chance to take it all.
But not a moment later after their short lived victory, Jungkook began to sweat; wiping his brow with the back of his hand, he remembered now that it was Taehyung’s turn to throw, and not his - and this was it, this was everything - if he missed, they would lose - because he knew that Hoseok wouldn't do the same when they had the opportunity the next time around.
He had to stop his partner from drinking the remaining cup, Taehyung having reached out simply because it was in front of him, Jungkook pulling him back from the table with his fingers locked on his shoulders. Taehyung was simply giggling the entire time, a frown forming when Jungkook repositioned him.
“But I just want--”
“Hyung, it’s your turn, you've gotta make this shot,”
Taehyung abruptly turned serious, imitating Yoongi with shaking out his limbs, shrugging his shoulders, his gaze now completely focused; it was a total one-eighty from how he was behaving mere moments before, taking everyone by surprise. He held out his hand, Jungkook understanding the hint and placing the ball within his hand, Taehyung running his fingers over his lips as he appeared to be poised in thought. He positioned himself in several different areas, attempting to determine the best angle to shoot from, finally deciding on dead center. He bent his elbow, and while biting the inside of his cheek, he made his toss, the world seemingly in slow motion as he watched it move.
He was only a hair off, just skimming the rim before the ball bounced outside and onto the table instead, before finally falling upon the floor.
He too, had missed.
And now, it was all up to Hoseok; if he made this one final shot, that was it, and they would win.
Even the music that once was blasting through the speakers had been respectfully turned down, a dull bass the only sound to be heard, as the entire room was immersed in this intense game of beer pong. Why it became so, Yoongi wasn't sure, but he'd be damned if he wasn't all in.
Despite the pressure of the situation, Hoseok was surprisingly calm, only releasing a quiet sigh as he lined himself up for his throw, Yoongi gnawing on his bottom lip at this point, more nervous for his friend than Hoseok was for himself. It didn't take long, he chucked the ball with ease, causing it to land smack dab in the cup without even touching the rim.
Yoongi had never screamed so loud in his life, pouncing on Hoseok as they grabbed onto each other so tight, they couldn't breathe, the people surrounding them joining them in their victory yell; Jungkook fell to his knees, his head in his hands as he had a hard time admitting defeat, Taehyung ruffling his hair and offering him the last cup upon the table for a drink to ease the loss, Jungkook taking it gladly and downing it in one go.
Hoseok and Yoongi made their way to their friends, holding out their hands for a handshake with an intention of good faith for a great game played. In the end, it was all in good fun, but Yoongi would be lying if he didn't say he felt absolutely ecstatic.
And to add on top of that, Yoongi’s heart nearly stopped when he left the dining room, the crowd dispensing and came face to face with none other than Park Jimin, smiling wide with his arms crossed over his chest.
Yoongi remained still, rooted to the floor, unable to move. He could discern that Hoseok was beside him not too long after, saying something that Yoongi had no clue of, until he felt a pat on the shoulder and suddenly his presence was gone. He could see Jimin walking towards him (unless he was now extremely drunk and simply imagining it), but his senses were filled with the scent of pine and a spiced musk, one he could only associate with Jimin, and it was happening, it was really happening; Jimin was a only few feet away, leaning in close enough where Yoongi could almost taste him as his breath basked over his skin.
“That was a hell of a game, hyung,”
Yoongi cleared his throat, his hand rising to scratch the back of his neck.
“It was nothing,” he mumbled, “When did you get here?”
Jimin smiled, approaching Yoongi’s personal space, “I’ve been here the whole time, I was standing right over there, watching you play,” he pointed to a spot in the corner, one of which he most definitely would've missed unless he had been purposely searching for it.
“And I'm Tae’s best friend, why wouldn't I be here?” he teased, knowing the information was obvious, and the realization that washed over Yoongi’s features caused him to chuckle.
Of course he'd be here. Hoseok had told him that very same thing. Man, the alcohol must really be hitting him, now.
He couldn’t think of anything to say, he could only provide Jimin with a measly grin; despite having worked with the boy for months now, for once in his life when he needed his voice the most, he was absolutely silent. Why out of all times, does his brain decide to short circuit now?
Until suddenly, Yoongi’s blood ran cold.
“Oh, fuck,”
Jimin tilted his head, confused by Yoongi’s stark exclamation, following his line of sight to someone at the far end of the room; he was tall in stature, and honestly, fairly attractive. But Jimin could tell that whomever this person was to Yoongi, it wasn't a good thing. He saw the way Yoongi’s fingers began to twitch, his teeth digging into his bottom lip as it appeared he was debating internally on what to do. He was quick with his movements, glancing rapidly between Jimin and the man in the middle of the living room; without a word, Yoongi leaned forward, his hands grasping onto the fabric of Jimin’s sweater, pulling him in for an unexpected kiss.
Jimin stood still from the mere shock, but in seconds he was melting beneath Yoongi’s touch, the taste of his skin transferring upon his tongue, every sense filled with nothing but Min Yoongi. He had a fearless moment of courage as he took hold of the older boy’s waist, drawing him in towards himself as he drowned out the world around him.
He could taste the liquor upon his tongue, the warmth radiating from his form, and for a moment Jimin worried this was all a stupid, drunken mistake.
But as soon as it started, it ended too quickly.
Yoongi abruptly pulled away, eyes becoming wide as he stared into the warm, blissful gaze of the boy in front of him. What had he done?
“I--”
He couldn't speak.
Jimin let him take his time, remaining silent as he observed the thousands of emotions that crossed over his features.
“My ex was just--”
Yoongi’s eyes moved to glance around Jimin, to the very spot where he had followed Yoongi’s line of vision before.
Ah, so it was an ex. Yoongi was only using him.
“Don't worry, I get it,” Jimin gently pulled himself away, one arm crossing over his chest as he held tight to the other, suddenly feeling the room become ten times smaller.
Yoongi was rejecting him.
“No, no, please, don't misunderstand,” Yoongi stepped forward, while Jimin was hesitant, but all the same he allowed Yoongi to place a gentle grip upon his arms.
“I panicked, plain and simple,” Yoongi began, “It was the last thing I expected, seeing him again brought back so many unwanted emotions and I just…” with a sigh, his words faded, his head hanging low.
“You wanted to make him jealous,” Jimin’s tone was short and curt, but he remained in place, hearing him out. He knew Yoongi well enough by now that he's not that type of person; or at least, that's what he hoped for.
“Exactly,” he breathed, one hand rising to cup Jimin’s cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing the skin beneath. The soft touch causes Jimin’s heart to leap right back up, beating wildly inside his chest. “This isn't how I wanted it to happen,”
Jimin’s nose twitches, his eyes squinting as he looks at Yoongi in confusion, before he's met with the blissful feeling once again of Yoongi’s lips upon his own as the older boy kisses him soft, and sweet.
“I had hoped I'd ask you out for dinner or something first,” he pulled away with a chuckle, “But I've been too chicken shit to do so,”
And there it was, the smile that never failed to fill Yoongi’s chest with an infinite amount of butterflies, the laughter that washed over him like a warm summer breeze, coming from the boy who he's starting to love.
Wait, love? Isn’t that a bit extreme?
“Let's get out of here,” with a grin, Jimin nodded his head towards the door; if Yoongi had been even remotely drunk, he was certainly sobering up now.
Unbeknownst to them, Taehyung and Hoseok shared a knowing look, high-fiving each other as they took a celebratory shot, exclaiming “Finally!” as they smiled, watching their friends depart.
Jimin ended up dragging Yoongi from the house, walking out into the cold winter night with a smile that rivaled that of the sun. His hand felt warm, his hand felt safe.
Once they were a decent distance away, Jimin stopped, facing the road as Yoongi stood quietly beside him, watching him as he ordered a ride home. The glow from the screen illuminated his features, Yoongi becoming lost in his beauty that never failed to mesmerize him. His strong jaw that trailed to the gorgeous curve of his lips, (ones he was itching to kiss again), his smooth skin that he longed to properly feel with every inch of his fingertips.
Jimin felt the intensity of Yoongi’s stare, glancing at the older boy from the corner of his eye, teasing him with a smirk to signal that he'd been caught.
“Something you'd like to say?”
Yoongi cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“No, nothing,” he shifted his feet. “How long until it gets here?”
Jimin took a look at his phone again, opening the app, “About two minutes away,”
“Oh, okay,”
And once again, they were surrounded by silence, the faint sounds of the party long since behind them.
“You know I like you, right?” the sudden confession took Yoongi off guard, Jimin pivoting on his foot to completely face him. “I mean, I had figured I was making it fairly obvious, which is quite new to me,” he mumbled the last words more to himself, but Yoongi still caught wind of them.
Yoongi hadn't expected to be told outright, but of course he had his suspicions, more so far fetched hopes than anything else. This certainly made his next words a bit easier to roll off his tongue, but not like this. He wanted to do it properly.
“We’ve got time,” was all he said, the minutes passing as their tepid breaths mingled together in the crisp, winter air, Jimin pocketing his phone and naturally intertwining his fingers with Yoongi’s, aiding in producing a welcomed warmth.
Before long the car had arrived, pulling up to the curb with the two boys entering the back seat, hands remaining interlaced. Jimin began to lightly smooth the pad of his thumb across the back of Yoongi’s skin, inducing him to glance in his direction, a genuine smile upon his lips. It was a comfortable quietness that encompassed the tiny space between them, a mutual, gratifying acceptance that the feelings exchanged were entirely reciprocal.
Jimin muttered a thanks when they had finally gotten to the apartment, opening the door and holding out his hand for Yoongi to take, the older gladly accepting the offer. They walked steadily towards the complex, Jimin using the fingers of his free one to meddle with his keys, Yoongi noticing the slight tremble of his grip. Once inside they were shrouded in darkness, and yet Jimin knew exactly where he was going without the need for any light. Yoongi heard the keys clanking in a dish nearby, the rustle of fabric as Jimin removed his coat, lying it somewhere upon where Yoongi assumed was a couch.
He stayed put, growing uncomfortable with the situation, until he felt a gentle touch guide him forward, pulling him continuously until they stopped. His vision was starting to grow accustomed to the obscurity, blinking repeatedly while his eyes focused on what he could see. Yoongi detected Jimin’s silhouette, illuminated by a small window behind his form, the moonlight showering him in a glow. He noticed to his right there was a table and a couple of chairs, and to the left a refrigerator and scattered cabinets, the obvious choice being that they were standing in the kitchen.
But for what reason, Yoongi was clueless.
“Sorry,” with a gentle squeeze to his arms, Yoongi waited for Jimin to continue. “I’m just nervous, I suppose,” a soft sigh.
Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle, “And you don’t think I am? I can bet you I’ll be the first to crack under the pressure,”
There it was again, that joyful laugh that Yoongi couldn’t get enough of.
“I highly doubt that,” after he took a few breaths, Jimin stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s hips, just staring at him in the limited amount of light they had. It was peaceful, it was calm; and yet Yoongi was wanting nothing more than to kiss the daylights out of him.
And so, that’s exactly what he did.
He started off slow, pressing his lips against Jimin’s leisurely, timidly, feeling the way Jimin moved beneath him, feeling the way Jimin fell perfectly in time with this makeshift rhythm being created. He noted to memory the faint whine that grew from his throat when he lightly pushed his tongue against his skin, allowing Yoongi to kiss him even deeper. Jimin’s fingers rose to grip onto Yoongi’s silver strands, his nails scratching against his scalp just hard enough to be slightly painful, but it was entirely welcome.
Jimin started to walk forward, remaining attached to Yoongi’s lips as the older boy’s back met the wall, causing them to stumble from the mild force. Whilst Yoongi had been nursing a meager woozy headache from being intoxicated, it was nothing when compared to completely immersing himself within every inch of Park Jimin. He felt the electricity vibrate through every extremity, everything felt beyond incredible.
Everything felt right.
And it hasn’t felt that way in a very long time.
Yoongi was shocked at first when he felt Jimin’s hand slither down his neck and onto his chest, moving further until it reached his hips, detaching himself as he took a heavy intake of air into his lungs, Jimin’s pupils blown wide as he started at Yoongi, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. Jimin gently squeezed, palming his hand over his crotch, and Yoongi’s breath hitched sharply.
“Shit,” Yoongi stuttered, the room around him becoming smaller and smaller as Jimin continued his ministrations, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip.
Yeah, it had definitely been a while.
Jimin began to peck delicate kisses upon his neck, nibbling on the skin with his teeth, having it be Yoongi’s turn to run his fingers through Jimin’s hair, holding onto the ebony strands with a tight grip.
Breathless, Yoongi was barely able to mutter, “So this is happening, right here? In the kitchen?”
Jimin chuckled, the warmth of his breath ghosting upon Yoongi’s flesh, producing a chill down his spine, “Sure, if that's what you want,”
Another rough squeeze to his groin, Yoongi was surprised his knees didn't buckle then and there.
“I'd take you anywhere, anytime,”
“Is that so?”
Jimin moved his lips up to his jawline, his tongue sliding across the defined bone before teasing his earlobe, his teeth gently gnawing. Yoongi was at a loss for words, but he didn’t want it to happen like this.
He needed to be the one in control.
“Bedroom, now,”
He felt Jimin smirk upon his skin, kissing him once more before quickly dragging him through the darkened hallway, Yoongi using this as an advantage to take Jimin off guard, releasing his hand from his grip and pushing Jimin against the wall, the few photographs that were hung shaking from the force. Yoongi took both of his wrists and threw them over his head, Jimin’s breath caught in his chest as Yoongi reciprocated the same treatment he had received moments ago, biting at the flesh of his neck.
“Didn’t you just say you wanted to go to my bedroom?” Jimin spoke, an airy chuckle hanging in the air as he held back a moan when Yoongi reached a particularly sensitive spot behind his ear.
“Couldn’t help myself,” Yoongi growled against him, sliding his hands down Jimin’s chest before resting them upon his hips, messing with the belt buckle in a hurry, before slithering his hand beneath the fabric of Jimin’s underwear, and grabbing onto his cock, beginning slow, torturous movements while rubbing the pad of his thumb over the head, feeling the warmth as Jimin already was starting to leak.
“Fuck,” this was what Yoongi had been waiting for, this was everything he had been fantasizing about for weeks, and this only prompted him further for wanting to know exactly how it felt to be buried inside of him, to bring him to absolute euphoria, and know that each and every moan, every cry that would fall from his lips would be because of him alone.
Jimin became like puddy beneath him, Yoongi using his free hand to cup his jaw, smashing his lips upon his again, already missing the way his tongue tasted, their breaths becoming heavy and quickened as Yoongi continued to stroke him, making sure to squeeze when he reached the top.
“Hyung, please, I can’t--” another smooth flick of Yoongi’s wrist, and Jimin lost his train of thought.
“Please what?” the teasing tone with which he spoke grated on Jimin’s nerves, but the way he was making him feel was absolutely incredible - but if he didn’t slow down, he was going to come then and there.
“I can’t last if you keep doing that, I want--”
Yoongi proceeded to taunt Jimin by teasing the head of his cock again, snickering when Jimin’s breath hitched, his hand rising to grip tightly onto Yoongi’s arm for support because he could feel his legs becoming weak.
“I want to do this right,”
Those simple words caused Yoongi to halt his movements, brushing his fingers over the warmth that had formed upon the apples of Jimin’s cheeks, the younger boy fluttering his eyelashes open and their eyes to meet; Yoongi placed a gentle kiss upon his lips, removing his hand and releasing his hold upon Jimin, (finally allowing the younger boy to breathe properly) and lead him to the bedroom as he originally intended.
They were still shrouded with the blackness of the night, the windows providing the only source of light, but neither of them seemed to mind. Yoongi tossed his beanie upon the floor, carefully removing his clothing one by one while Jimin did the same - his damn nerves were getting the better of him once they calmed down - Yoongi’s lungs tightening at the sight of the pale, soft skin when Jimin took off his shirt.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” Yoongi muttered against his lips, capturing Jimin’s gasp in an embrace while they fell onto the mattress, completely encompassing themselves, losing themselves in one another as they were absorbed in delirious passion, Yoongi hearing the most precious sounds he has ever come to know from the lips of a boy he has become entirely enamored with.
This was easily one the best nights of his life, and he can only hope Jimin believed the same.
There are very few things in the world that truly grate on Yoongi’s nerves.
- When the sunlight creeps in his bedroom window, on the days when he was up far too late the night before; albeit the countless number of times he's shut the blinds (he's positive he did), some always manages to sneak through, successfully waking him hours before his mind was ready.
- When his roommate (and best friend) Hoseok always steals the last banana milk, even if Yoongi writes his name all over the damn bottle. (It's not that big, there's not that much space to scribble on, you'd think he'd get the point after four years?)
- And finally, when his favorite study room is taken in the library, the one by the far back window where it's warm, and honestly, the best place for Yoongi to sleep in between classes.
And as his luck would have it, one of the three things happened to him today. Needless to say, he was in a fairly optimistic mood.
Scratch that, he felt fucking fantastic.
The shining rays of the sun had indeed peeked through the blinds that morning, albeit not in his own bedroom, but they had successfully woke him hours before his mind was ready. But this time around, it was a welcome surprise, a beautiful change of pace.
Jimin’s skin glowed beneath the light, his lips still slightly swollen and a delicate shade of pink, Yoongi smirking as he took note of the slowly forming bruises of flush violet upon the young boy’s neck. He dared himself to lightly caress his fingertip upon his bare arm, a small spark upon his touch, causing Yoongi to hold his breath as he watched Jimin with a careful eye.
Jimin merely stirred, curling his body closer to Yoongi’s warmth, and the older boy released a relieved sigh as his fingertip continued to trace the curves of his muscles. Unbeknownst to him, Jimin was in fact awake; but he chose to pretend, reveling in the delicate touch.
Yoongi softly gasped upon seeing Jimin’s tired eyes awaken, his eyelids gradually dragging themselves open as if it were the most difficult task in the world. But the moment he was met with the sight of Yoongi hovering over him, he couldn't help the brilliant smile that took over his features, his hand rising to cup his cheek. A faint blush appeared upon Yoongi’s skin; he'd never get used to the intimacy, there was always going to be this small part of him that shied away from that concept.
But with Jimin, slowly but surely, his wall was breaking down again; and he'd never been more gracious to the boy than with anyone else in his entire life. Except Hoseok, of course.
Without a word, Yoongi returned the gesture, leaning down to capture Jimin’s lips in a wonderful, soft kiss, one that he could feel throughout every limb.
He certainly wouldn’t say he’s in love with Jimin, but it’s definitely something like it.
Yoongi supposed he could eliminate the first idea off of his list of things that really grated on his nerves; because with Jimin around, he quite liked the prospect of the sun peeking from behind the blinds, and showering them in a bask of warmth as they woke up in each other's arms.
Yeah, he could get used to this.