Archive of Our Own

"-Oh it was no problem, ma'am!" Jimin chirped, beaming at the old lady who was bowing to him in gratitude across the road. "Just promise me you won't carry such heavy things by yourself, alright? We don't want you getting hurt!" 

He swung one foot over his bike, gripping one handle before turning back and waving at the woman. She waved back until he finally turned around, kicking his foot against the ground to start off, humming a happy tune as he pedaled through the streets of Seoul.  

The roads had relatively light traffic considering that it was almost the golden hour, hints of yellow and bright oranges reflecting off windows of the towering structures of steel and glass. Back in Busan, his schoolmates had often scoffed about it, had resentfully complained about the city being a concrete jungle, that it had lost all of the beauty that nature had to offer, the greens replaced by constructions and neon signs.  

Looking around, he rather had to disagree. He loved his hometown, loved the view of the hills and the salty breezes from the ocean, but there was a rather exciting glamor in the colorful clusterfest that was this city, an appeal that was almost urgent in its making in the placards and the advertisements that topped one another.  

Seoul just made him feel more alive, he supposed.  

He sighed in appreciation as he finally made it to the bridge, a gentle evening breeze blowing the fringe out of his eyes. The bridge was the best part of his ride back home from university, because no matter how much he loved the buildings and the busy streets, there was something calming about the large waterbody below, something that soothed the rare pangs of homesickness that announced their presence every now and then. Why, he would probably go so far as to call it his favorite place from the whole of Seoul, despite not having explored much; the landscape view, the steady flow of traffic, the breezy air, the man crouched on top of the railings–  

The man crouched on top of the railings?!  

He gasped, jolted out of the warm thoughts at the sight before him. About a couple hundred yards ahead, a small crowd had gathered at one side of the bridge, centered around the darkly dressed figure that was slowly standing upright from where he had climbed onto the railings. He was too far away for his face to be discerned, but he looked rather small, perhaps even shorter than him, and was that guy at the front of the crowd seriously videoing the entire thing???!  

The man took a small step forward, and Jimin did the only think he could think of.  

He screamed.  

"Don't do it!" His voice came out squeaky and high-pitched, panic making its way into his words as he pedaled faster. "Don't do it! Please don't do it!"  

To the average passer-by, this was a vision to behold; a small boy dressed in bright clothes, red in the face as he passed by in a whizz, screaming at the top of his voice. 

"There's so much more to stay alive for!!" Jimin continued to scream, doubling his efforts as the man took another step forward. He knew that his words were wasted; the wind drowning out his voice as it slammed against his face and rang in his ears, but he couldn't stop yelling, not when there was a life on the line dammit, and why wasn't anyone in the crowd helping him??? 

Only a couple of yards away now, he threw his bicycle onto one side of the road and ran like it was his own life on the line, on the verge of tears at the thought that he might be too late.  

"Stop! Stop, please, please, please!" He cried out, and he must be close enough now, for some of the people in the crowd turned around at the words. The man on the railings either didn't hear him or was ignoring him, as he continued to look down at the large river below.  

Soon enough, he was pushing through the crowds, shoving people away so that he could rush towards the center. As he broke through the last couple of spectators, he bent over in half as he tried to get air back into his burning lungs, his breaths coming out ragged, raspy.  

He stood back up and staggered towards the railings, grabbing onto one of the poles and leaning over as he tried to get the man to look at his face.  

"Please don't do this! Please, there has to be anotherohmygolly–" he broke off with a squeak, finally getting a good look at the Railing Man's face. He had been prepared for it to be someone around his age, but holy shit he wasn't expecting to be hit with five feet of beauty, and was that even his real skin??! And the way his eyes curved and then suddenly slanted to one side and oh my god Jimin now is really not the time for this– 

"Please!" he begged, afraid to get any closer in case he scared him. "Please, please just listen to me. I don't know what hurt you, I just know that it's hurt you to the point where you might think that – that there's no point in it anymore, that there's no point in living anymore, but you're wrong! You're w-wrong, and I.. I can show you! Please, just get off there first–" 

The expression on the man's face was becoming more sour with every passing second, but Jimin decided to ignore the slight twitch in his jaw as he continued to ramble out in a shrill voice. 

"There's just. There's so much you haven't even seen of the world! And I know it's shitty, that things are shitty for you right now but please, I can't let you do this! Just. Trust me! Please, please please, oh god you won't even look at me–"  

The guy with camera was laughing now, and Jimin's fists bunched up with the sudden urge to smash that fucking Panasonic into his face, but again, now was not the time for that, because the Railing Man wasn't listening to him, just blankly staring towards the setting sun and he himself was seconds away from breaking down in tears.  

"I've been there!" He burst out, and Railing Man's brows went up. Good, a reaction was good, right? 

"Yeah, I've been right where you are now, alright? I hit rock bottom too, and things were too much to handle and I thought there wasn't anything left for me but I– I didn't go through with it, because, god, I suddenly remembered the ddukbokkies that my grandmother always made when I was younger and I stopped, I stopped, and took a train home the same day and ate her ddukbokkie and the whole point of this is. It doesn't have to be something big!! It can– It can be anything! Anything that you can still c-cling on to!"  

He frustratedly wiped away the tears that were making their way down his face because this isn't about you, Jimin, you have to help this guy, get him off the goddamned railings, 

"Please, let me h-help you," he sobbed out, inching closer towards him. "You have to have your own ddukbokkie, I'll help you figure it out. I'll show you so many wonderful things, I'll help you so—"  

"–Ah fucking hell," a deep voice interrupted him, and he looked up to find the Railing Man glaring at the guy with the camera. "Will we be able to use any of that?"  

Wait, what? 

"Nope!" Camera guy jovially declared, and now Jimin really didn't understand. He appeared to catch the gobsmacked look on his face because camera guy grinned, closing the camcorder and stuffing it into his side bag as he explained. "We were shooting for a project. Fine Arts major, my name is Hoseok, that's my friend Yoongi who was helping me out." He stretched one hand out in a friendly offer, and Jimin spluttered as he looked at it, watching from the corner of his eye as Railing Man, no, Yoongi, hopped down from the edge of the bridge.  

"W-what–how–why didn't you tell me that!!" He cried out, hiding his face behind his hands as the sounds of laughter from the crowd around them reached his ears. God, God, he had cried in front of them, had looked like a complete fool, and ruined their video and god he was just so stupid.  

"Sorry, I tried but you were just so passionate in your speech that I couldn't find a moment to interrupt?" Camera guy Hoseok's words were laced with laughter, and Jimin could feel his face getting redder, if it was even possible. He shuffled from foot to foot, still hiding behind his hands and cursing them for being so small, and finally mumbled out a small "sorry, I'll leave now," and quickly walked away.  

Or at least, he tried to walk away, and he would have, if it weren't for the strong tug at the back of the collar of his jacket that kept him firmly in place.  

He looked back to find Yoongi with the Beautiful Eyes tiredly rubbing at said eyes with one hand, the other making grabs at his jacket.  

"You. Chipmunk." The deep voice completely contrasted against his looks, but it just fit, like ying and yang, like peanut butter and jelly, like Jimin and homosexuality, and Jimin should really not be thinking about that when he had just been likened to a puffy cheeked rodent.  

"Yes?" he squeaked out, wincing at the pitch of his voice that really wasn't helping him being exempt from the offensive statement.  

"Coffee."  

Did the guy only speak in singular words? 

The confusion must have shown on his face, because Yoongi with the Deep Voice let go of his jacket and started undoing the scarf wrapped around his own neck, proceeding to wrap it around Jimin's.  

He hadn't even realized that he had been shivering in the twilight air.  

"You said you'd show me wonderful things. I think coffee is wonderful. I assume that's your bike over there?" He pointed behind him, where the poor bike lay on its side at one side of the bridge, and Jimin slowly nodded.  

"Well? Come on, I know just the place."  

Did– Did he just get asked out by Yoongi the Deep Voiced Guy with the Beautiful Eyes and Clear Skin? 

*** 

Ten years later: 

The piano was a nice touch, though the thought that Yoongi could play it a thousand times better had crossed his mind a million times as he walked down the aisle not so long ago.  

In fact, it would be pretty nice if there were, say, a dozen more Yoongis, no, a hundred, no, thousands -  because Yoongi was just so imperfectly perfect, and he was pretty sure that every clone of Yoongi would love him just as much as the real one, and that was so much love, and Jimin didn't even mind being selfish when it came to being on the receiving end of the adoring look that Yoongi was currently sending in his way. 

I love you, he mouthed, and grinned at the flustered look on Yoongi's face. God, he was such a sucker for him.  

The grip on his fingers tightened as Yoongi laced their hands tighter together, and he felt a blush creeping up his neck. Gosh, he was such a sucker for Yoongi.  

The last words of the priest snapped him out of the lovesick daze, and he stared at the aged man as he spoke the last words of the vow in clear words;  

"-you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him for better or worse, protect him and keep him from harm–"  

Oh no– 

The entire hall burst into loud sniggers, and Jimin flushed red at the realization that not a soul within the chamber was a stranger to the story of how the happy couple had first met. 

"–be faithful only to him, for as long as you both shall live?"  

Yoongi raised one brow, one corner of his lips upturned in a small smile as he mouthed, well?  

"I will, I mean I will do, I mean, I do!" He stammered out, flushing red at the failed attempts as another round of laughter echoed through the hall.  

Yoongi was grinning as he declared his own vows, shoulders quaking in a silent laugh as the priest announced their marriage and he leaned down to mold their lips together. Jimin could feel the laughter in the kiss, and not one to back off, immediately slipped his hands into his coat, giggling with satisfaction as the laughter turned into an involuntary moan, and cheers and applause burst out behind them. 

They were Min Yoongi and Park Jimin, the most clichéd couple – their wedding took place in a chapel with close friends, and family from Yoongi's side - filled with white roses and peonies and laughter and love. They were boyfriends of nine years and eight months, lived together for seven of those years, and their first date took place in a coffee shop with americanos and double cappuccinos and an exchange of phone numbers.  

Yoongi often joked that their non-climatic relationship was to make up for their dramatic meeting, but they both knew the truth that lay behind the quips and jests made mostly at Jimin's expense.  

Love didn't always have to be something hard, of heartaches and heartbreaks and ugly misunderstandings. 

Sometimes, love could be the most natural thing in the world – just two people who respected and cared for each other.    

And so, they loved, and loved, and loved.