Archive of Our Own ^beta

Yoongi watched from afar as Jimin laughed, his entire body shaking with the effort and falling forward as his small, delicate looking hands came up to cover his open mouth. Yoongi couldn’t quite hear Jimin’s giggles, but he knew from experience that they sounded like little tinkling bells, a beautiful sound floating in the chilly winter wind.

Yoongi looked on as Jimin began speaking again, plush lips moving rapidly as his hands moved wildly in quirky gestures. Yoongi felt a small smile spread on his face.

With transfixed eyes, Yoongi saw another, much taller boy lean in closely to Jimin, whispering something into the smaller boy’s ear that caused another giggle to escape Jimin’s delicate lips.

Jimin was beautiful. It was undeniable, with his chiseled jawline and delicate features and warm eyes. Yoongi had found himself breathless before the younger on many occasions because of the lovely curves of Jimin’s eyes as he smiled, the little scrunch his nose would make when he was concentrating or deep in thought, or the adorable pout the younger’s lips would form whenever he was trying to win someone over.

Jimin was caring. He always greeted people he passed by on campus and was always willing to listen to other people’s problems, if only to help carry some of their burdens. Yoongi remembered all the times Jimin had did something unexpectedly kind for him or spoke to him in the one of the gentlest and most tender voices Yoongi had ever heard.

Jimin was charismatic. He had more friends than some of the most extroverted people on campus, not because he partied a lot or went out of his way to greet new people, but because Jimin had a certain aura, a certain magnetic pull about him that made everyone either know him or want to know him.

Jimin was perfect, Yoongi thought as he watched light streams of snowflakes powder the younger’s hair. He was perfect in every way, Yoongi thought as smiled softly to himself.

He saw Jimin wrap an arm around the much taller boy beside him, leaning in enthusiastically to whisper something into the other boy’s ear. And just like that, his trance was broken, and Yoongi sighed deeply.

Jimin may have been perfect, and Yoongi was most definitely completely and utterly infatuated with the kid, and perhaps in another world, they could have made a really cute couple together, if only it weren’t for one simple fact…

Jimin was very in love with Yoongi’s younger brother, Taehyung.

❄

Now granted, it made sense that Jimin would be in love with Taehyung. They were, after all, best friends of almost ten years, and they shared a bond Yoongi couldn’t quite compare to any other pair of friends he had ever seen.

Jimin had the widest and most beautiful smile on his face as he reached over and fed a spoonful of meat to Taehyung, and Yoongi tried to ignore the little jealous pang in his chest.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much to see Jimin being so openly affectionate with Taehyung if Yoongi hadn’t been nursing the largest crush in history on the pink-haired boy for the past two years of his miserable life.

Why Yoongi had to fall for his little brother’s best friend, of all people on this godforsaken planet, was beyond him. Perhaps the universe was trying to make beautiful, fluffy boys with too pretty smiles just to make it hard for Yoongi to breathe. Or this was just the universe’s personal way of saying fuck you and your inability to pine after people in your own fucking league to Yoongi.

Jimin swatted playfully at Taehyung’s arm from across the table, and Yoongi felt his heart clench in the most bitter way possible. Yep, it was definitely the second option. The universe was trying to make Yoongi suffer for falling for the one person he could never have.

“Yoongi,” a voice hissed from beside him, “Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi.”

“Hm?” Yoongi replied absentmindedly, his eyes still completely focused on Jimin.

“You’re staring. And you’re not listening to me,” Hoseok sulked. “You know I need attention.”

“Sorry, what?” Yoongi watched as Jimin got a grain of rice stuck right above his lip, the action so adorable and endearing that his heart might have just exploded. Might.

“Pay attention to me!” Hoseok hissed again, elbowing Yoongi harshly in the side. “Stop being so creepy; you’ll scare him off,” Hoseok added in a whisper.

“...right,” Yoongi forcibly tore his eyes away from Jimin. “Were you saying something?”

“Did you not listen to my whole spiel earlier about Christmas coming up and we lonely ass high school students needing to find a new, innovative way to celebrate?”

“Don’t people like...spend Christmas with their families? What do you mean we need to find new ways to celebrate?” Yoongi furrowed his brows.

“Exactly, so we’re celebrating before Christmas break, get it?” Hoseok said emphatically.  

“Um...is that supposed to make sense?” Yoongi sighed dramatically. “Do you even remotely try to make sense anymore?”

“Nope!” Hoseok clasped his hands together enthusiastically. “But anyways, I saw this thing online and we should totally do it!”

“We…?”

“The seven of us. At this lunch table.” Hoseok gestured awkwardly at their surroundings. “Our friend group? Duh.”

“...right.”

“Wait, I need everyone’s attention for this,” Hoseok muttered. “Everyone shut the fuck up and listen to me for a second.”

The rest of the table went quiet, albeit with a couple eye rolls and head shakes.

“I wanna do Secret Santa this year, guys!” Hoseok announced.

“Um...what?” Namjoon asked after a brief silence. “Secret Santa? Like buying gifts for people and having to guess who bought what and shit?”

“Yep, and I think we should do it.” A couple protests resounded, and Hoseok pouted slightly. “Come on, guys, we never celebrate Christmas together as a group! Can we just try it?”

“Hm...okay,” Jungkook said in a soft voice. Hoseok beamed at the younger boy.

“Yeah, we can do it,” Jimin cut in, and Yoongi tried not to get distracted by the pretty pink of the younger’s lips.

Unsurprisingly, Taehyung agreed with Jimin and before long, they were all writing their names down on to slips of paper. Hoseok tossed them all into a plastic cup and held it out to Seokjin, who made a big deal out of mixing the names around before dramatically drawing one out.

Namjoon and Jungkook drew names next before the cup was unceremoniously shoved into Yoongi’s hands. He reached in and grabbed the first slip of paper his hands touched.

Once everyone had a slip of paper in their hands, Yoongi opened his slightly, eyes peering down at the two neat characters written down on it.

He tried not to choke on his own breath.

Jimin.

Of fucking course.

❄

“What the fuck do I get him?” Yoongi seethes to Hoseok. “Of all fucking people, the universe decides to give me the one person I have no idea what to buy for!”

Hoseok had gotten Jungkook, and they had decided to brainstorm gift ideas together and maybe even go shopping together afterwards.

“I dunno...a gift maybe?” Hoseok mumbled without looking up from his phone, his body draped over the couch like a strangely humanoid blanket.

“I don’t need this sass in my life,” Yoongi muttered darkly, mostly to himself.

“Well, don’t ask me the same question twenty million goddamn times then,” Hoseok retorted.

“You’re supposed to be helpful.”

“I did try to help. Multiple times.”

“Suggesting I buy love, happiness, and rainbows isn’t being helpful.”

“Helpful is a subjective word, okay?”

“It’s really not.”

“It is now.”

“Why am I even friends with you?” Yoongi sighed dramatically, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“I dunno. No one else applied for the position?”

“Not helping,” Yoongi closed his eyes. “What does he like again?”

“Snow, dancing, sweaters, rings, and presumably dick, since he used to be obsessed with that one sinking death ship painter dude—”

“Leonardo DiCaprio?”

“—and because according to you, he’s unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Taehyung,” Hoseok finished.

“...did you actually just quote Twilight to me?”

“Robert Pattinson was hot, okay?! Forgive me if I still remember a couple lines from that mess of a franchise...hmmm I kinda miss being a Twihard.”

“Can I disown you?”

“If you want to go shopping for gifts for Jimin alone, then sure. Try me,” Hoseok challenged, an amused gleam in his eyes.

Fuck. “Fine,” Yoongi grumbled. “Just help me. Please.”

“I mean...all you have to do is find a gift that is both cute and meaningful but also romantic enough to make Park Jimin fall completely and utterly in love with you so…” Hoseok touched his chin thoughtfully. “We can make it work.”

❄

A few days after, Yoongi was wandering the kitchen. It was already past eleven, and the whole house was pretty much silent, save for the occasional burst of giggles from behind Taehyung’s bedroom door.

He cracked open the door to the refrigerator, his eyes squinting as they scanned over its contents. Yoongi wrinkled his nose at the lack of high quality food and decided to turn to the pantry, where there was a considerable amount of junk food readily available.

Ever the health conscious guru, Yoongi grabbed the first bag of potato chips he spotted and headed back up the stairs. He yawned as he pulled the bag open and used his shoulder to push the door to his bedroom open.

Only, when he whirled around again, he realized it wasn’t his bedroom.

A wave of nausea overcame Yoongi as the sight of Jimin and Taehyung cuddling and giggling together greeted him. Their legs were intertwined from their positions on top of Taehyung’s bed, and their eyes were engrossed by some disgustingly cute anime as bright grins plastered themselves on their faces.

Yoongi sort of hated himself for the way his lungs stuttered and his chest ached while he watched Jimin’s gaze land on him. Jimin nudged Taehyung awkwardly and cleared his throat.

“Uh, Yoongi hyung?” Taehyung cocked his head to the side in confusion. “What are you doing here? Do you need something?”

Yoongi’s eyes scanned over Jimin’s impassive but confused expression before he bit his lip and swallowed harshly. What did he expect to see in Jimin’s gaze? Admiration? Adoration? Those things were reserved for Taehyung, weren’t they?

“So-sorry,” Yoongi stuttered. “I just—I wasn’t paying attention and accidentally came into the wrong room.”

“Oh, okay,” Taehyung replied with a blindingly happy smile. “Want to join us?”

“N-nah, I’m good,” Yoongi said shakily. “I’ll just—um. Sorry. Have a nice night together”

And with that, Yoongi took off running, not stopping until he reached the solitude of his bedroom. He breathed in deeply, his mind already replaying what had just happened over and over, causing him to internally cringe a little more each time.

“‘Have a nice night together?’” Yoongi repeated out loud. “What the fuck were you thinking? If Jimin didn’t think you were a creep, now he definitely does, you fucking jealous degenerate.”

The image of Jimin’s doting smile directed at Taehyung was probably burned across the back of Yoongi’s eyelids. It shouldn’t have hurt so much after all this time, but this stupid fucking crush of over six fucking months just wouldn’t fucking go the fuck away.

“Fuck,” Yoongi breathed out softly, his heart pounding in his chest. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

And he screamed that exact same word into his pillow.

❄

“Dude, I think I’ve figured out what you should get Jimin,” Hoseok said.

Yoongi’s eyes shot open, hands moving quickly to pull out his earbuds. “What?!” he choked out while sitting up quickly.

“I said, I think I’ve figured out—"

“No, I heard you the first time, I just mean, why the fuck didn’t you say something earlier?”

Hoseok pouted slightly. “Can you at least let me finish? God, I’m trying to help your sorry, whipped ass.”

Yoongi flushed. “I am not whipped—"

“Don’t fucking lie, hyung,” Hoseok glared. Yoongi shrunk back.

“Anyways,” Hoseok began in a cheery voice. “I’ve noticed that Jimin really loves flowery shit. So yeah, get him some flowery shit.”

“And where am I supposed to get that? Can’t exactly show up to a farm and be like ‘hey, can I have some of your finest smelling manure? Make it flowery—‘”

“You ruin everything, what the fuck—"

“And anyways,” Yoongi continued. “I don’t even know what his favorite flower is so that is a no.”

“Bitch, just guess,” Hoseok waved his arms around frustratedly. “I don’t know! I don’t think he’ll be so picky and be like ‘oh no, this is primrose and my pretentious ass nose will only accept the faint, effervescent scent of tulips—‘”

“Definitely not tulips. I’m sure Jimin has way more taste than that.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes. “Well, if you’re suddenly a master of flower scents, just go for it. All I was trying to say is notice his love of flower crowns and obnoxiously nice smelling colognes—"

“Yeah well, it’s been noted. Thanks.”

“I legit can’t tell if I just wasted five minutes of my life trying to help you find a gift for Jimin or if you’re actually taking this to heart.”

“I’m serious,” Yoongi replied, yawning and stretching slightly as he pulled himself off of his bed. He grabbed his wallet and his keys quickly before turning back around to address Hoseok. “I’ll be back in like, twenty or thirty minutes. You can hang around here by yourself or come with, whatever.”

“Wait, you’re going now?”

“Yeah, might as well get something now before I agonize some more and chicken out or some shit,” Yoongi said dryly. “See you in a bit, then.”

“Bitch, I’m coming with you! What if you accidentally purchase tulip scented shit?”

“I wouldn’t dare. You think so low of me?”

“…sometimes.”

❄

The upscale store was bustling with people, the holiday season in full swing as shoppers rushed around trying to find the perfect, slightly discounted items to gift to friends and family.

“—Yoongi, seriously, shut the fuck up, you’re scaring the customers—"

“Look at this, Hoseok. Just look. A reflection of the disgusting consumerist values we have come to hold so near and dear to our corrupt hearts. I bet most of these people aren’t even buying gifts; they’re just buying some expensive ass shit for themselves! This is the dark side of capitalism Marx warned us about! It’s just so incredibly wasteful, materialistic, and excessive, you know? God, I just—"

“Literally, stop trying to ruin the Christmas season, you wannabe vertically challenged Grinch.”

“I’m just saying—"

“Yeah, yeah, keep complaining about how capitalism and materialism have ruined modern day society,” Hoseok muttered darkly. “As if you aren’t shopping for expensive ass shit in the same exact fucking store as everyone else.”

Hoseok was probably right, Yoongi thought. But just because he too was participating in such a horrifying display of first world consumerism didn’t make it any more right in his mind. He turned to repeat those sentiments to Hoseok, who groaned in annoyance and waved him off.

“Now, quit doing that weird nervous babbling thing and let’s go find a gift,” he sighed. “You know if you were buying this for anyone except Jimin you wouldn’t be here, anxiously ranting away like a wannabe millennial socialist hippie.”

Yoongi bowed his head, cheeks already warming uncomfortably. He wasn’t normally so rude and impassioned about the reckless spending of money in the 21^st century, but something about looking at flower scented shampoos, perfumes, and body washes for Jimin stirred a nervous, fluttery feeling in Yoongi’s stomach.

Hoseok skipped around the aisles, finding random bottles and packages labelled as flower scented. Rose, lily, daisy, jasmine, lavender…none of them would do. They were, as Yoongi had so eloquently put it to Hoseok, way too fucking basic.

Freesias and gardenias seemed like viable options, but nothing really resonated with Yoongi. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking for, but Yoongi knew that Jimin deserved to have something as special as he was.

Over fifteen minutes had passed and Yoongi could have sworn they had passed by the same couple of aisles two or three times already. Even Hoseok was starting to seem annoyed by his indecisiveness.

And then Yoongi found it.

It was a small thing, all wrapped up nicely in a wicker basket with a satin bow tied at the top. Inside there were lilac scented oils, shampoos, body washes, perfumes, soaps, and even candles. A small, fake flower crown was tucked neatly inside as well. The description said the scent was “heady and sweet with a bit of spice and intensity” and Yoongi knew it was absolutely perfect.

He grabbed a basket quickly and rushed over to the checkout counter, Hoseok close on his heels. To his luck, there were only a few customers in line and he soon found himself face to face with a sweet looking cashier.

Yoongi scrambled to pull out some cash and felt his eyes widen at the price of the little basket. He waved his worries off and decided it wasn’t really that exorbitant, and that it was for Jimin, and Jimin’s happiness was something money could never buy anyways.

“Gift receipt, sir?” the cashier asked in a friendly tone.

Yoongi’s brain short circuited and it felt like his stomach had flipped over. “Uh, uh…no thanks?”

Hoseok nudged him questioningly as the cashier smiled and handed him the basket and his change.

“Don’t you think you should get a gift receipt? You know…just in case?” Hoseok inquired hesitantly. “I mean, you never know…”

“Nah, I’m sure it’s alright,” Yoongi replied softly. “And besides, it’s too late to go back in there now. If he hates it…well, I’ll just figure something out then.”

Hoseok nodded, still looking a little unsure. “Yeah, okay, whatever you think is best, I guess…”

Yoongi silently prayed that Jimin wouldn’t hate his gift.

❄

Jimin was over again. Maybe Yoongi was being paranoid, but it seemed like Jimin had been coming over more and more often, to the point where he came home to the sight of Jimin and Taehyung hanging out together almost every other day.

Yoongi pretended that fact didn’t bother him. He also pretended that it didn’t bother him that Jimin had stopped talking to him as much since he was always busy with Tae.

Yep. No simmering jealousy underneath his skin for sure…

Yoongi finished another round of League of Legends before deciding to venture into the kitchen. It was a little past three AM, but he didn’t let that stop him from rifling through the pantry to find the most sugar-packed food item he could.

He wrinkled his nose at the Twinkies and Oreos the pantry was stuffed with. Sure, they were sugary, but they weren’t the right kind of sugary.

Yoongi finally settled on some chocolate chip cookies. He munched on one and he was sure that the crumbs were ending up all over the floor, and that his mom would probably skin him alive in the morning for it.

He hummed to himself and opened the fridge to pour himself a glass of milk because Yoongi wasn’t a fucking unintellectual savage who ate his cookies without a glass of milk.

The kitchen was silent and dark as he threw his head back to take a swig of the milk, with more bravado than necessary.

Yoongi nearly simultaneously choked and spat out the milk as one of the kitchen lights was suddenly flicked on.

“O-oh,” a light, squeaky voice breathed. “S-sorry. I didn’t know anyone was down here.”

Yoongi swallowed the remnants of the milk down hastily, immediately regretting it and feeling a burn in his nose and lungs as the milk was forced down. “Don’t-um, don’t apologize. It’s fine.”

Jimin nodded his head a little, a small awkward half-smile spreading across his face. Yoongi felt an embarrassed blush work its way up to his face and hoped Jimin didn’t notice.

“How are you, um, hyung?” Jimin asked quietly.

Yoongi ignored the question. “So, uh, were you looking for something? Snacks are in the pantry and drinks are in the fridge.”

“Yeah, I was just trying to get some soda for Tae and I. We were going to start another anime marathon,” Jimin replied sheepishly, one hand rubbing shyly at his nape as his cheeks flushed.

“Sure…” Yoongi said, trailing off a little because of how distracted he was by Jimin’s adorable blush and smiling lips. He caught himself staring and turned himself around forcefully to gesture at the fridge. “Um, what kind of soda?”

“Just a couple Cokes.”

Yoongi opened the fridge and pulled out two cans of Coca Cola. He slid them across the counter towards Jimin, who was already reaching towards them.

Their hands brushed.

Yoongi swore he felt a spark pass between them, making his entire arm feel all tingly and his body unable to move. He felt like he couldn’t even breath as Jimin froze up too, their hands still touching slightly.

His hand was still wrapped around the two cold cans of Coke as his gaze lowered from Jimin’s eyes to where their hands were connected.

Jimin’s hand was so delicate, so much smaller than his. Jimin’s pinky was pressed against Yoongi’s ring finger, and he couldn’t help but notice how little effort it would take for him to just lace their fingers together.

Jimin coughed, his gaze turned downwards, and the spell was broken.

He lightly tugged the cans out of Yoong’s loose grip, a pink tinged flush high on his rounded cheeks. Yoongi felt himself blush too, his hand outstretched and curled as if it was still holding a can in it.

Jimin let out a nervous giggle, and Yoongi’s heart skipped a beat. The younger’s eyes were curved up in a sweet smile, his nose scrunched up cutely in a way that was so impossibly endearing to Yoongi he swore his throat was closing and his lungs were burning right.

“Oh my god,” Jimin said breathily, still giggling slightly. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what that was, haha. Sorry, oh my god.” He covered his face with his hands nervously.

If Yoongi had less self-control, he probably would have screamed right then and there, at 3AM in his kitchen with cookie crumbs still stuck to his lips.

Fortunately, Yoongi managed to pull himself together enough to say, “Don’t worry about it. Happens all the time.”

What. The. Fuck.

YOONGI. WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST—

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure it does,” Jimin answered. “I’m sure there are people just lining up to awkwardly brush up against your hands.” The blush on Jimin’s cheeks seemed to deepen, and Yoongi’s heart squeezed a little.

“I didn’t mean—" Yoongi paused and took a deep breath, his tongue licking a couple stray crumbs off of his lips as he hastily tried to think of a good response. “I mean, uh, please don’t be embarrassed. If anything, I should be apologizing for freezing up and not pulling away and making things really awkward and—" Yoongi bit the inside of his cheek, trying to cut his nervous rambling off. “So um yeah, I’m sorry.”

“…it’s no big deal, right?” Jimin said quietly, his eyes unable to meet Yoongi’s.

“Yeah,” Yoongi replied softly. “No biggie.”

Jimin nodded and picked the cans up. “So, uh, thanks for the soda. I’ll see you around, hyung.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi found himself saying dumbfoundedly. “See you around, Jimin.”

Yoongi stood in the kitchen for another five minutes, his brain still trying to process what had just happened. Sighing, he inhaled another three cookies (he was a bit of a stress eater, okay?) before washing them all down with another cold glass of milk.

He roughly wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand and headed back upstairs, where he laid in bed for an absurdly long amount of time fantasizing about what it would be like to hold Jimin’s hands.

They had been soft, and warm, really warm.

Some small part of Yoongi just knew they would fit perfectly inside his own hands.

❄

The next time Yoongi saw Jimin was the following evening.

Yoongi had spent the afternoon holed up in his room, listening to music and trying to work.

It probably would’ve been easier if thoughts about Jimin and his encounter with Jimin hadn’t been on his mind the whole time. Had Jimin always giggled like that with him? Had Jimin always blushed so prettily around him? Had Jimin always had such a bright and affectionate gleam to his eyes when he looked at Yoongi?

Was Yoongi somehow special to Jimin? Yoongi didn’t remember seeing Jimin acting so nervously and bashfully around the others, save for maybe Taehyung.

Yoongi had felt pretty buoyant and elated at the thought.

He had just started convincing himself that he had spent far too much time over-analyzing Taehyung and Jimin’s relationship, and perhaps it was rash of him to jump to the conclusion that Jimin loved Taehyung in a way that went beyond platonic. Perhaps his jealous mind had tricked him into thinking Jimin was in love with anyone who showered in attention. Perhaps his judgement was slightly impaired and clouded by his irrationally boundless feelings for the boy.

It certainly was possible, given just how much fucking time Yoongi had spent agonizing over every single little detail about Jimin.

(Hoseok, for one, would not stop reminding him about that one time he hadn’t slept in a couple of days and went on an adrenaline-fueled rant about why Park Jimin should never, ever, ever, ever be allowed to wear any form of oversized sweaters or shirts and how fucking attacked Yoongi was by Jimin’s goddamn sweater paws. Fuck Yoongi’s weakness for adorable things and his inability to keep his feelings for Jimin to himself.)

Yoongi had a vivid and rather terrifying flashback of Jimin wearing a bright yellow sweater two weeks ago. He hadn’t been able to fucking breathe for a full fifteen minutes, lungs struggling to function as his heart and mind went crazy. And as if that hadn’t been enough, Jimin had the audacity to turn and smile at him, and fuck, Yoongi was going to die an early death and it would all be because Jimin couldn’t just fucking stop being so fucking perfect and beautiful and angelic and—

“Hyung!” Yoongi heard Taehyung’s voice call out from downstairs.

Sighing, Yoongi pulled out his earbuds and shouted back, “What?!”

“Where are the gumdrops?” Taehyung yelled. “I couldn’t find them in the pantry!”

“Did you check behind the old Halloween candy?” Yoongi answered, already getting up and walking towards the stairs.

“I did! Help me find them, hyung! I need my gumdrops!!” Taehyung whined, tacking on a little “please~” at the end for further persuasion.

Yoongi grumbled slightly as he burst into the kitchen. He riffled through the pantry for a few moments before he found Taehyung’s precious gumdrops.

When he turned around, Taehyung was nowhere to be found.

“Tae?!” Yoongi called out. “I found your gumdrops! Where are you?”

“In the living room, hyung!” Taehyung shouted. Yoongi shook his head and crossed the kitchen to get to the living room.

“I left to go set up the movie with Jimin,” Taehyung said apologetically as Yoongi passed him the gumdrops. Jimin was squatting down by the DVD player, brows furrowed in concentration as he tried to figure out how to connect it to the TV.

Yoongi was by his side in a flash, gently pulling the DVD player out of Jimin’s hands and pressing a couple buttons on the remote to display the movie on the TV. He could have been imagining it, but Yoongi swore he saw Jimin’s face flush red before the younger retreated to the sofa, where Taehyung was already huddled under a boatload of blankets.

Yoongi tried not to think about how smooth the planes of Jimin’s neck and collarbones had looked up close as he pressed play on the movie. He lightly tossed the remote to Taehyung before turning around to leave, only to be greeted by a sight that left his heart clenching uncomfortably in his chest.

Jimin and Taehyung were cuddling again, something that was not unusual for the affectionate best friends, but Yoongi’s eyes lingered on the way Jimin’s arms were wrapped around Taehyung’s shoulders and the look in Jimin’s eyes as Taehyung whispered something to him.

It was that same look Yoongi had seen a few days ago. That same affectionate twinkle and playful gleam.

Yoongi felt his stomach drop.

Perhaps Yoongi wasn’t really all that special in Jimin’s eyes.

❄

The day of the gift exchange, Yoongi arrived at school early to drop his gift off in Jimin’s locker. They had all agreed to anonymously leave the gifts in everyone’s lockers before bringing them all to the lunch table to guess who had gifted each present.

With slightly shaking hands, Yoongi slid the small basket, carefully covered and bundled up by some tissue paper and a festive-looking bag, into Jimin’s locker, a small envelope containing a handwritten card slipped in between the soaps and candles.

He was still trembling by the time he started his first period class, a bubbling nervousness working its way up his esophagus and throughout his veins. Yoongi really, really wanted Jimin to like his gift.

By the time lunch rolled around, Yoongi was officially a Mess of Nerves™.

All seven of them took their usual spots at the lunch table, placing their respective gifts on top of the long table.

As the oldest, Seokjin opened his gift first. He had received a vintage Mario figurine and some random hipster coffee shop gift cards. Namjoon had been blushing so hard Yoongi was afraid the younger’s head would explode, but Seokjin feigned obliviousness, making an casual comment about Jungkook’s strange tastes in coffee shops before finally guessing Namjoon.

Mercifully, Namjoon hadn’t exploded as he shyly nodded at Seokjin. (Perhaps Namjoon’s heart had, but Yoongi couldn’t see it, thank god. Lord knew those two were obsessed with each other…if only they would pull their heads out of their asses and get together.)

Yoongi went next, nimbly pulling off the wrapping paper on his present. It was a white box make of a sturdy cardboard-like paper material. He hesitantly lifted the top off of the box and peered at what was inside.

The first thing Yoongi noticed was how soft the fabric felt against his fingertips. He ran his hands along the folded fabric inside the box and it took all of his self-control to keep from cooing at how heavenly the cloth felt against his callused fingertips.

The second thing he noticed was that his present was pink. A faded pastel pink, but still pink nonetheless.

He pulled the whole thing out and let the cloth fall. It’s a sweatshirt with a simple design and two small white hearts adorning the sleeves.

“Fuck, is this some kind of joke?” Yoongi muttered. “I can’t wear this.”

The table had gone silent while Yoongi was opening his gift, but after his offended remark, everyone burst into laughter, much to Yoongi’s chagrin.

Yoongi rolled his eyes and nonchalantly ripped open the small envelope left underneath the sweatshirt. It’s addressed to “Yoongi hyung,” so he can automatically rule out Seokjin as the one who bought this for him. (Which was kind of weird, considering Seokjin seemed to have a fascination with the color pink, and if it weren’t for the “hyung,” Yoongi would have definitely guessed the elder first.)

The handwriting on the card was neat and cutesy, the characters curling into adorable and childish-looking swirls. Yoongi cleared his throat and began reading.

“To Yoongi-hyung,

I saw this sweater the other day and it immediately reminded me of you because it was cute, soft, and bold. Kekeke I really hope you like it. I’d like to see you in pink some time.

Merry Christmas,

Your secret Santa”

The words left a weird taste in Yoongi’s mouth. Cute? Soft? Those weren’t traits he would normally use to describe himself.

“This has to be a joke,” Yoongi said aloud. “What the hell…”

“Come on, Yoongi,” Seokjin cut in. “You have to guess now…Who do you think is your secret Santa?”

“Um…Hoseok? I don’t know. Someone who was trying to mess with me.”

Hoseok held his hands up. “Wasn’t me. As if I would ever refer to you as ‘cute.’ You’re more like ‘annoying but somewhat tolerable.’”

Yoongi glared at Hoseok. “See if I ever help you with chemistry homework after this.”

Hoseok eyes widened and he hastily moved to apologize. “No, please, hyung…for the sake of our friendship and my GPA, please don’t do this!”

Yoongi was about to quip back that Hoseok’s GPA was already beyond help when a small voice spoke up. “Hyung…it was me. I’m your secret Santa.”

Jimin looked so small in that moment, staring down at his hands embarrassedly and hanging his head slightly. Yoongi wondered if he’d been too careless with his words earlier about his opinions about the sweatshirt. He hoped he didn’t hurt Jimin’s feelings.

“Ah…thank you, Jiminie. It was a nice gift,” Yoongi replied awkwardly, feeling his breath catch in his throat and Jimin seemed to sink deeper into his seat.

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you hated pink so much…I should’ve gotten you something else, like new headphones or something,” Jimin said quietly.

“Oh no, Jimin…I really appreciate it,” Yoongi responded quickly, a light note of desperation seeping into his voice. “Please don’t feel bad; I shouldn’t have said that earlier.”

“But you’re not going to wear it, are you, hyung?” Jimin sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Yoongi struggled to answer. “I…I—"

“You don’t have to lie, hyung. There’s a gift receipt inside the envelope too so you can return it some time. You can go buy yourself something else with the money,” Jimin cut him off, seeming to deflate further as his tone got softer and softer. Fuck.

It was so quiet at the table, Yoongi swore he could’ve heard a pin drop. Everyone’s eyes were wide and observing the conversation with bated breath, and Yoongi couldn’t think of any appropriate response other than, “Uh, yeah. Maybe. But thank you anyways, Jimin.”

Everyone seemed to have taken a collective deep breath as Hoseok began opening his gift. Yoongi’s mind continued to race, trying to think of ways he could fix this or make it up to Jimin. Fuck, he had really hurt the younger’s feelings, hadn’t he? Just staring at Jimin shrinking into himself earlier made Yoongi want to bang his head repeatedly on a wall. How could he be so careless? Yoongi cursed his thoughtlessness and loose tongue as he sat on the uncomfortable cafeteria bench, keenly aware of the hard plastic digging into the back of his thighs and the tension permeating his limbs.

Yoongi zoned out and didn’t pay attention as Hoseok and Namjoon opened their respective gifts. He was only brought back to Earth when Hoseok elbowed his side, hissing that Jimin was about to open his present. Yoongi vaguely hoped that Jimin at least liked his gift and could maybe start to forgive him for being so rude earlier.

Jimin still looked a little troubled as he faked a smile and quickly yanked out the tissue paper in the small bag. Yoongi held his breath as the younger pulled out the small wicker basket.

He released a small exhale as Jimin began to giggle uncontrollably. At first, Yoongi thought it was out of happiness, but as Jimin continued to laugh Yoongi slowly found himself becoming more and more confused.

Jimin wiped his eyes a little, body still shaking a little as he said, “Oh my god, who did this? What kind of sick joke—" Jimin stopped to laugh some more. “Jesus Christ, this is so fucking funny. Why, just why?”

Yoongi glanced at Hoseok in panic. The younger just shrugged, eyebrows slightly furrowed as Jimin started opening his card. Jimin’s sweet voice began reading out Yoongi’s note.

“Jiminie~

I heard you like flowers a lot, so I got you this little gift basket. Hope you like it and have a very merry Christmas.

Your secret Santa”

Yoongi bit his bottom lip worriedly as Jimin stared around the table, lips pursed in thought.

“Hm…it has to be either Seokjin hyung or Jungkook,” Jimin mumbled. “Only you two would pull this kind of shit on me.”

Yoongi’s felt his heartbeat start to pick up speed as he nudged Hoseok, who stared back at him with just as much bewilderment and worry in his eyes. What was the fuck was happening? Did Jimin have something against the gift Yoongi didn’t know about? What if—

“Okay, you two,” Jimin announced. “Go ahead and tell me. Which one of you did it?”

Silence.

Hoseok elbowed Yoongi, who cleared his throat and said shakily, “It was me, Jimin. I bought that gift for you.”

Jimin’s eyes widened in shock. “You…You got it? Oh my god, I’m so sorry I didn’t think—Holy shit, I’m so sorry you must’ve been so confused and upset—"

“Jiminie,” Hoseok interrupted. “What exactly was wrong with the gift? Why did you take it as a joke? Why do Seokjin hyung and Jungkook know about it?”

“Uh…uh,” Jimin stuttered. “Nothing! There’s absolutely nothing wrong with this gift, haha. I—I really love it, Yoongi hyung! Thank you!”

“Jimin, I love you, but seriously, you can’t lie to save your life,” Taehyung muttered from beside the stuttering boy.

Yoongi swallowed harshly. “Uh, it’s okay, you don’t have to say anything, just…Don’t worry about it. You don’t have to tell me what’s—"

Yoongi paused as he watched Jimin riffle around the envelope and the small bag. After a few moments, Yoongi realized in horror that Jimin was looking for the gift receipt. The gift receipt Yoongi had so conveniently declined in the store…

“I didn’t think to get a gift receipt, Jimin,” Yoongi said, feeling hot shame creeping up his nape. “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you some time.”

“Oh, hyung, it’s really okay I just—"

“Jimin has had bad experiences with that brand,” Taehyung mercifully cut in. “He had an allergic reaction to one of their body washes once, and their perfumes make him sneeze uncontrollably. He couldn’t even step two feet into the store without dying because the smell of perfume was too strong while he was trying to return the items he had ordered online. Poor Jiminie had to ask me to return everything in his steed.” Taehyung giggled a little, smiling at the memory.

Yoongi’s heart sank at Taehyung’s words. He should’ve checked with the others about what to get Jimin. He should’ve fucking gotten a gift receipt. How was it possible for one person to fuck up secret Santa this badly?

Seeing Yoongi’s darkening expression, Seokjin patted him on the back comfortingly. “It’s okay, Yoongi-ah. You couldn’t have known.” Right, because he and Jimin weren’t nearly as close as everyone else (a fact that bothered Yoongi more than he would like to admit).

“Yeah,” Jimin agreed. “You didn’t know. It’s fine. Please don’t feel bad.”

Yoongi looked up and saw Jimin’s sincere eyes filled with pleading and sympathy. He nodded jerkily before saying again, “I’ll make it up to you. I promise, Jiminie.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that—"

“Yes, yes I do. You’ll get a real gift in a little bit. Just wait.”

“Thank you, hyung,” Jimin said brightly. “You’re too kind to me.”

Well, it sure didn’t feel that way to Yoongi. He had simultaneously insulted Jimin’s gift while also completely fucking up his own gift for Jimin. Could this situation get any messier?

(Hint: It did.)

❄

“Hoseok, what the fuck should I do?” Yoongi whisper shouted into his phone, hoping that Jimin and Taehyung wouldn’t overhear him through the walls. “I said I would make it up to him but I have no fucking idea how to do that!”

“I talked to Jungkook. He said you should buy a gift card or something. I don’t know, man, it’s really your call.”

Yoongi sighed deeply as he sank deeper into his sheets, the soft fabric of the pink sweater he was wearing caressing his skin in a way that felt absolutely heavenly.

Sure, Yoongi had said that he would never wear it, but did he ever say he wouldn’t wear it in the safety of his bedroom away from any prying or judging eyes? Hell no. This sweater was fucking great.

“Whatever. I’ll figure something out,” Yoongi said, his eyes squeezed shut in thought. “Talk to you later, Hobi. Thanks for your help.”

Hoseok hummed and Yoongi heard a faint click to signal that the other had hung up. He groaned to himself and inhaled deeply before Yoongi’s stomach chose that precise moment to rumble extremely loudly and obnoxiously. Perfect.

He pouted as he pulled the sweater off, throwing on a ratty grey hoodie as he headed downstairs. Yoongi passed by the sight of Taehyung and Jimin giggling while playing Mario Kart together in the living room, causing him to pout even further as he trudged into the kitchen.

Perhaps it would be less pathetic to have someone walk in on you moping over your little brother’s best friend if Yoongi hadn’t been stuffing Twix bar after Twix bar into his face, crumbs scattered all over his face and cheeks filled to the brim like some kind of demented chipmunk.

“Hyung? Are you…are you okay?” Jimin asked quietly, eyebrows furrowing in concern. “That’s…that’s a lot of Twix bar wrappers there…”

Yoongi let out a small, panicked noise, thankfully muffled slightly by his ninth or tenth Twix bar. He swallowed as quickly as he could, letting out a choked, “I’m fine.”

“Oh...okay. You just seemed a little…crazy there,” Jimin said awkwardly.

“Oh yeah, you know me…crazy guy…that’s me…”

Fuck, Yoongi, just SHUT THE FUCK—

Jimin started giggling uncontrollably. “Sure. You crazy guy…part time Twix bar demolisher, full time crazy…” Jimin choked out breathlessly as he kept laughing.

Yoongi started laughing too. “Yep, that’s me.” He wiped the remaining crumbs off his face and slowly put the bag of Twix bars away. When he turned around, Jimin was still there, staring at him with enough intensity to make Yoongi’s face heat slightly.

“Um, did you need something, Jiminie?” Yoongi said, hating the way his voice wavered slightly in nervousness.

“Yeah, I just came to get a glass of water,” Jimin answered, seeming to snap out of whatever trance he was in as he tore his eyes away from Yoongi’s.

Yoongi watched from the corner of his eyes as Jimin’s small hands reached for one of the wide glasses in the cabinet above the dishwasher, subtly admiring the way Jimin’s shirt rode up slightly as he pushed himself onto his tiptoes to grab the glass. His tan skin looked incredibly smooth, and soft; Yoongi was absolutely transfixed.

Fuck, I gotta leave before I say or do something fucking idiotic again, Yoongi thought as he swallowed against his suddenly dry throat. This can’t be good for my health.

Alarm bells began ringing in his head as Yoongi’s eyes trailed dangerously southwards, towards the prominent curve of Jimin’s ass and toned thighs beneath his tight jeans. Fuck, fuck, fuck, snap the fuck out of it—

“Hyung, are you alright?”

Yoongi realized he had just fallen to the ground. Not even in a graceful manner; he had just simply plopped his ass onto the ground with his legs sprawled haphazardly across the kitchen tiles. What the fuck, had he just blacked out or—

“Did you faint or something?”

“Um, no…just slipped. You know, these kitchen tiles, they can be pretty, uh—" Yoongi cleared his throat and tried to ignore the distress building in his throat. “Slippy—uh I mean, slippery.”

Jimin furrowed his eyebrows but didn’t press him further. “Well, okay then. Be careful next time, hyung. I wouldn’t want to see you get hurt.” And with that, Jimin grabbed his glass of water and mercifully left the kitchen, giving a halfhearted wave to Yoongi as he left. Yoongi had tried to smile at Jimin too but it probably just looked like he was in grievous pain (which honestly wasn’t too far from the truth).

Yoongi had literally just fainted because of Jimin’s ass. What the actual fuck.

“Pull yourself together, Yoongi. Get your shit together, fuck,” he muttered to himself. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He shut his eyes tightly and tried his best not to have a mental breakdown on the kitchen floor as his masochistic mind kept replaying images of Jimin and his perfect ass…um, perfect ass self (totally what he’d meant) and he felt all the blood rush out of his head and go south.

Holy fucking shit was the last thing Yoongi thought before pulling himself up and running upstairs to the safety of his room to take care of a certain problem Park Jimin had just caused in his lower regions.

Holy fucking shit indeed.

❄

Yoongi had set a reminder in his phone to go back to the fancy store to attempt to get Jimin a proper gift receipt that weekend. And so that is how he found himself, on a glorious Saturday morning, wheezing and suffocating on expensive perfume in the most pretentious store in town.

As an extra apology, Yoongi had already swung by Jimin’s favorite café to buy a gift card. He hoped that if he wasn’t able to get a receipt, Jimin would be satisfied with having fifty extra dollars to spend on mediocre coffee and slightly overcooked pastries (just because it was Jimin’s favorite didn’t mean Yoongi agreed…).

Hoseok had told him that fifty dollars was excessive and quote, “almost sugar daddy level,” but Yoongi had waved him off, insisting that he really needed to win Jimin over for giving him such a random and admittedly, dislikable gift (although he secretly loved the thought of splurging and spoiling the younger male…maybe Hoseok was just a little bit right about that sugar daddy streak).

Coughing and ignoring the feeling of his eyes watering painfully, Yoongi made his way over to the customer service counter, only to be greeted by a familiar head of pink hair.

“J-Jimin? What are you doing here?”

The younger boy spun around on his heels. “Oh my god. Hyung. I—uh. I was just…”

It was then that Yoongi looked down and saw the pitiful wicker basket he had gifted Jimin one week prior. Why was he holding that…?

One of the customer service attendants returned and Jimin awkwardly turned around again without finishing his sentence.

“Sir, sorry for the wait,” an employee spoke, “I just checked with my manager and we can’t quite return items that have been opened if there’s no receipt included.”

Yoongi felt his stomach drop. Was Jimin…seriously trying to return his gift without even giving Yoongi the chance to resolve the issue by himself? Did he hate the gift that much? Did he hate Yoongi that much?

“H-hyung. This isn’t what it looks like,” Jimin stuttered, seeing Yoongi’s shell shocked expression.

“Oh no, it’s, uh, it’s totally fine, Jiminie. No worries. Um.” Yoongi bit his trembling bottom lip and stepped up to the counter. “Here’s my credit card,” he said to the attendant, passing the strip of plastic to her nonchalantly. “The basket was purchased on this card so you should be able to find it and refund it.”

The sound of buttons being pressed and cards being swiped ensued and Yoongi stared at the ground as Jimin desperately tried to make eye contact with him.

“H-hyung. Please don’t be mad. I just wanted to, you know…do it by myself? I don’t know,” Jimin hung his head slightly and Yoongi was overcome by an urge to comfort him, to tell him it was alright and that it didn’t matter to him, but the words just wouldn’t come.

Yoongi kind of hated the fact he felt just a little bit hurt by Jimin’s actions. He swallowed harshly and nodded without looking at the boy beside him. Jimin looked rather embarrassed and a little ashamed, and Yoongi felt his stomach and heart drop just a little more at seeing the younger’s expression (he looked just like a kicked puppy, and God knew Yoongi was a sucker for cute, pouting things).

The employee managed to retrieve his purchasing history and refund the item. After Yoongi signed the return receipt, Jimin passed the basket back to the attendant, still looking abashed and guilt ridden. Yoongi shoved the credit card deep into his jacket’s pocket and gently grabbed Jimin’s delicate wrist, leading the younger boy away from the counter to a more private area where they could talk.

“I’m-I’m sorry again, hyung. It was really rude of me and—"

“Hey, don’t worry about it, Jiminie,” Yoongi cut him off. He forced himself to look up and form a close lipped smile at Jimin. “I’m not mad, although I wish you had come to me first instead of us, you know…meeting like this at the store.”

“I’m sorry—"

“Anyways, I wanted to apologize for um, picking such a bad gift and not really consulting with Taehyung or the others. I guess I really don’t know you that well and I just picked the first thing that reminded me of you. It was wrong. I’m sorry,” Yoongi looked away upon seeing Jimin’s face wash over with an emotion that looked strangely similar to guilt. Hot shame crept up his nape and he fiercely fought back the slight lump forming in his throat.

“Hyung, it’s really okay. I’m happy you thought of me—"

“It’s not an excuse.” Yoongi silently willed for his voice not to crack or waver. “So I picked this other thing up for you instead. I...” He fished the gift card out of his pocket. “I asked Tae what your favorite restaurant or café was and so I just…”

He unceremoniously shoved the gift card into Jimin’s hands, absolutely disgusted with the way his own hands began to tremble after his fingers brushed against Jimin’s smaller ones. “I hope this makes up for some of this. So…yeah. Take this as your real Christmas gift.”

Yoongi couldn’t be blamed for the way he’d fled the scene right after that, although he did feel rather bad about the way Jimin had called after him as he’d speed walked as quickly as his skinny chicken legs could carry him away from the store.

And Yoongi most definitely couldn’t be blamed for the way his eyes seemed to fill with hot tears at the knowledge that yeah, Jimin had really, really hated the gift and that worst of all, Jimin hadn’t trusted him enough to just tell him how much he’d hated it straight up, choosing instead to go behind his back to try to return it only a week after the gift exchange.

It really wasn’t that big of a deal, Yoongi tried to rationalize with himself, it was just a bad gift, a small mistake, it would make sense that Jimin wanted to return it on his own.

But deep down, Yoongi knew that he felt betrayed by the fact Jimin hated what Yoongi had picked out for him and that Jimin had absolutely no desire to even talk to Yoongi about an issue of his.

It really shouldn’t hurt, Yoongi thought. It really shouldn’t hurt to know that Jimin doesn’t care about you or your feelings the way he cares about the others. It really shouldn’t hurt.

Or at least, it shouldn’t hurt this much.

❄

Yoongi was lying in bed, earbuds shoved in and deep in thought. His fingers idly curled into the soft fabric of the pink sweater he was wearing, and he hummed softly to himself in contentment as he felt the gentle cotton caress the callused pads of his fingertips.

It’s been a couple days since that awkward incident in the store, and it was safe to say that Yoongi was doing his best to avoid all contact with Jimin, lest he embarrass himself again. Jimin had tried to approach him a couple times, but Yoongi had simply brushed him off and gone back to actively avoiding the younger.

It was kind of cowardly, but Yoongi couldn’t care less as he burrowed into the soft sweater a little more, shifting onto his side and shutting his eyes closed tightly.

 “Are you seriously going to lie in bed all day in that fucking sweater while being fake emo?” Hoseok suddenly burst out, interrupting Yoongi’s stream of thoughts (most of which centered around a certain Park Jimin and his gorgeous ass…face).

“So what if I am?” Yoongi snapped back. “I don’t need this judgement and sass in my life, Hoseok.”

“Well, besides the fact that it’s really fucking boring to sit here and play Candy Crush while you lie on your bed and fantasize about Jimin’s ass—yes, I read your frantic 3AM texts from that night…I mean, really hyung? Fainting? —you really, really need to get over whatever this is,” Hoseok waved his arms around wildly. “Because I have never met someone so incredibly dense and emotionally constipated. It was kind of entertaining at first, but now I’m just…worried.”

“I can’t tell if you’re trying to be an actual good friend or trying to fit in as many roasts as I’ll let you get away with in one sitting.”

“Hey, you’re the one who literally collapsed because you were high on Twix bars and Jimin’s ass, so—"

“Can we just never, ever talk about that like, ever again?”

“—I think it’s pretty fair.” Hoseok leaned back in his chair. “This whole sweater thing is both really hilarious but also concerning. Like, I get it, Jimin gave it to you, it’s oh so precious, all that lovesick bullshit, but seriously dude? A fucking pink sweater? You gonna wear that indoors for the rest of your life until Jimin figures out or acknowledges your feelings for him? Newsflash, I think you have to actually talk to Jimin for longer than ten minutes for him to—"

Yoongi groaned loudly. “I really don’t need this in my life.”

Hoseok pursed his lips, seemingly in thought. “I think this leaves us—no, you, this is your shit to deal with, not mine—with two viable options. Either you grow a pair and talk to Jimin about it, or the sweater has got to go.”

“What does this have anything to do with the sweater?”

“You can’t pine for the rest of your life, Yoongi hyung,” Hoseok said, and Yoongi hated that he heard a tinge of pity in the younger’s voice. “I think that unless you’re actually going to try to work things out with Jimin or confess somehow, you need to start letting go of some of your obsessive tendencies and just like, try to move on? I’m pretty sure cuddling a pink sweater every day isn’t healthy behavior, you know.”

“The disrespect—"

“But just, I want the best for you, hyung. I want you to be happy and shit and I don’t think this sweater is really helping you with that. Like, it’s just a reminder of all that shit that happened last weekend. You should just get rid of it since you’re not planning on talking to Jimin about what happened.”

Some part of Yoongi knew that Hoseok was right. Fuck, why was he always right?

“Fine. I’ll return it,” Yoongi finally conceded.

“Let’s go, then,” Hoseok challenged, quirking one eyebrow at Yoongi. “Forgive me if I don’t quite believe that you’re going to follow through with this. You’ve been more attached to that sweater than that Kumamon plushie I bought you for your birthday, which is just…disturbing, since I caught you caressing it during history—"

“It was one time!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let’s just fucking go,” Hoseok sighed. “What’s the name of the store that the sweater’s from again?”

❄

Yoongi had reluctantly returned the sweater, a very pushy and forceful Hoseok by his side the whole time. He still hadn’t done anything with the refund money, but he honestly didn’t care that much. He doubted that anything could fill the void created by the absence of the pink sweater. (Okay, so maybe that was a bit melodramatic…but Yoongi had a penchant for theatrics when it came to anything associated with Jimin.)

As always on late Friday nights after a long session of mastering the art of “doing nothing while chilling in one’s bedroom,” Yoongi found himself in the kitchen, hunting for some quality junk food with a glass of water in hand (hey, at least the choice of drinking water was semi-healthy).

He hummed to himself as he fished out a bag of Reese’s cups. They weren’t exactly Twix bars, but they would do, he supposed.

Yoongi tried to pull open the bag while walking out of the kitchen. Perhaps life, or fate or just humanity in general, really, really hated him, because of fucking course, he just had to stub his fucking toe on the side of the doorframe on the way out.

He let out a loud hiss. “Fucking degenerate,” he cursed to no one in particular, except maybe to the guardian angel he so desperately needed in his life. Honestly, where was the sign-up sheet for that shit?

He moaned, partially in pain and in annoyance at the fact that he was fairly certain no fucking guardian angel would be stupid enough to take him as their charge. One hand braced his body against the doorframe while the other held the bag of Reese’s, fingers clenched so tightly around the plastic that his knuckles were turning white.

“Hyung? Are you—are you okay?”

No, I’m never okay my life is literally just one existential crisis after the other and every day just becomes more painful—

“Whoa. That’s a lot, hyung.”

“Fuck,” Yoongi breathed after visibly wincing. “Where’s my fucking filter?”

“Um,” Jimin said before licking his lips. Yoongi wanted to scream, because how the fuck could someone’s lips be so fucking plush and perfect?

“Who?” Jimin asked. “Whose lips are plush and perfect?”

“Fuuuuuuuuck,” Yoongi all but screeched. “Fuck me, fuck this, fuck my life, fuck my toes, fuck my weakness for candy, fuck my thirst, fuck my life, fuck my life, fuck—"

Jimin placed his hands on Yoongi’s shoulders, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Hey, calm down. Are you alright there?”

“I-I,” Yoongi choked out. “I—Nothing! ‘M good!”

Jimin gave him a questioning look before his face smoothed back into his normal expression of friendly indifference. “Well, uh, okay. Do you have a second to talk? I have a couple things I wanna say to you, hyung.”

Bitch, I got all the time in the goddamn world, it’s 2AM on a weekend and I have a glorious bag of Reese’s in my hands just waiting to be consumed and demolished by me, time can only be considered relative in such heavenly circumstances such as these, my friend—

“Yeah. I have some time,” Yoongi finally replied after a long pause. Maybe his toe injury somehow fucked up his brain too…wouldn’t be the first time.

“Okay, so basically, I wanted to say sorry. Properly, this time,” Jimin began. “I should have asked you before going to the store to return the gift.”

“Huh?” Yoongi, ever a supreme intellectual being, answered. “You still remember that?”

“I mean, it was a week ago?” Jimin questioned, a confused look on his face. “Don’t you remember it too?”

“…right,” Yoongi mumbled sheepishly, one hand rubbing his nape nervously. “Um, don’t worry about it. No, uh—no hard feelings, okay?”

“But it was still wrong of me to go behind your back like that, hyung,” Jimin insisted. “I could tell I hurt your feelings, and I’m sorry, hyung. The last thing I would ever want to do is hurt you.”

Well, it’s a little late for that, isn’t it?

“What?!” Jimin exclaimed. “What did you just say?”

“S-shit.” Yoongi really wanted to viciously slap himself across the face. “Nothing. Forget it.”

“Can you stop doing that?” Jimin sighed, a tinge of annoyance in his voice. “Stop being all detached and uncaring and just tell me your honest feelings. Is it really that hard?”

“Uncaring? Since when have I been uncaring?” Yoongi yelped. “You literally just said you didn’t want to hurt me and then you turn around and call me uncaring? What the fuck?”

Jimin ran his hands through his hair in frustration, an action that Yoongi found way more attractive than he should have. “Fuck, hyung. I don’t know. I was just trying to apologize or something, but clearly you have some kind of grudge against me or something since you keep avoiding me and lying to me.”

“I don’t have a fucking grudge against you!” Yoongi snapped, feeling suddenly defensive. “I’m not that petty. I’m not like you.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Jimin barked, face starting to turn red. “I’m petty?”

“Well, you’re clearly not mature since you couldn’t even wait longer than a week for me to get you a gift receipt or a replacement gift,” Yoongi said, not quite sure why all these malicious words kept falling out of his mouth.

“You did the same thing! You returned the sweater last week, didn’t you?” Jimin raised his voice, small hands curled into fists at his sides.

“Well yeah, because that sweater was fucking hideous!”

There was a long, tense silence in the kitchen. It took a moment for Yoongi to realize that Jimin hadn’t known about him returning the sweater; he’d just guessed and Yoongi confirmed it without a thought.

Jimin cleared his throat, looking down as if trying to hide the gleam of hurt in his eyes. “I guess I finally got you to be honest with me for once. Great to know just how much you hated my gift to you. If I would’ve known…God, I don’t know what I was even thinking when I bought that.” He shook his head in disbelief.

“Jimin…I—"

“Save it, hyung. I’m sorry you hated your gift. I never should have tried to find something special for you in the first place; I clearly don’t know you the way I thought I did if this is how you really feel about me.”

Jimin turned on his heels and left the kitchen, leaving Yoongi floundering for words and still processing what had just happened.

His mouth felt like it was full of sand as he swallowed slowly. Fuck, how was he going to fix this?

❄

Jimin had stopped coming over to the Min household. Yoongi tried to act like that fact didn’t bother him, that the fact Taehyung was more often than not at Jimin’s place didn’t bother him, and that the fact he and Jimin hadn’t had a proper conversation in over a week didn’t bother him at all.

Spoiler alert: it really fucking bothered him.

Yoongi really wanted to apologize and at least try to work things out with Jimin. He still wasn’t sure what had compelled him to yell and curse at the younger like that; he normally didn’t lash out like that. He supposed something about Jimin just drove him insane enough to lose control over his mouth and his emotions.

Yoongi had seriously considered texting Jimin a long ass apology message, but upon realizing how creepy it would be to randomly text the younger with no further context, he had decided against it. It’s not like they ever texted unless it was something like “Hey, Taehyung isn’t answering his phone. Can you tell him to check his texts?” or “Is it cool if I come over later? Tae said to check with you first” or “Please remind Taehyung to check his phone and just answer me, goddammit.”

So yeah, basically the world revolved around Taehyung, apparently. (Not that Yoongi was bitter or anything…)

Their last text conversation had been about whether they needed to restock the junk food in the pantry (at that point, Jimin was over enough that everything in the Min household might as well have been his) and if it was his or Yoongi’s turn to run out and buy more junk food.

It had been Jimin’s turn, but when the younger had mentioned that he had been feeling tired and stressed after a long week at school, Yoongi hadn’t hesitated to offer to do it instead.

Yoongi had tried to think about what would have happened if he had texted Jimin. What would he have said? “I’m sorry I was such an ass it’s just that I’m really in love with you and jealous of my little brother for being so close to you?”

Yeah, it was definitely a no-go.

Yoongi buried his head in his pillow and screamed like a majestic dying seal. Very attractive.

It was a couple of days after Christmas, and like usual, Yoongi and Taehyung’s parents were away on some business trips (to be honest, they were gone more often than not, which made Yoongi seriously wonder if they had planned for him and Taehyung to raise themselves from the start or something) and so Seokjin, being the intellectual he was, decided the seven of them should throw a small late Christmas “party.”

It wasn’t the first time they had all hung out at the Min’s place, but it was the first time Yoongi had to worry about there being an awkward situation between him and Jimin.

Yoongi’s phone pinged from his nightstand.

Gin

Don’t forget to get the food ready. I’ll be over in twenty to start setting up.

Yoongi texted Seokjin back a simple “k” before tossing his phone carelessly onto his bed.

He pulled himself up and went down into the kitchen. Taehyung wasn’t in the house, so Yoongi assumed he was probably with Jimin. He tried to ignore the way his insides seemed to twist at the thought of Taehyung and Jimin cuddling while having another anime marathon.

Yoongi shook his head, trying to push such jealousy-fueled thoughts to the back of his mind as he started pouring chips, popcorn, and other extremely unhealthy snacks into large bowls covered in Christmas designs (Seokjin’s idea, of course).

He poured the store-bought eggnog into a festive-looking pitcher and started setting the bowls out in the living room and throughout the kitchen. The doorbell rang as he was arranging a bunch of colorful candy canes on a table.

Seokjin was way too energetic for half past seven in the evening as he began scrambling around, hanging up wreaths and of all things, mistletoe (Yoongi was 99% sure it was intended for Namjoon) all around the house. Yoongi bit back a comment about how the light pollution generated by the strings of Christmas lights Seokjin had brought was enough to give a Greenpeace activist an aneurysm.

When Seokjin was finally finished, Yoongi called Hoseok to make sure that he was on his way over. Afterwards, Yoongi dialed Taehyung’s number, already kind of dreading their conversation.

“Hello?” Taehyung mumbled into the receiver, obviously preoccupied by something (Yoongi knew it definitely had to be an anime). “Who this be?”

“Hey, Tae?” Yoongi replied, coughing slightly to clear his throat. “Where are you? Are you on your way back for our Christmas Eve gathering thing?”

“Oh, hyung. It’s you.” Yoongi tried not to scoff as he heard some shuffling from Taehyung’s end. “I’m at Jimin’s right now, but we’re heading over now. Be there in like…ten.”

“Ah, okay,” Yoongi sighed. “Be safe. See you guys soon.”

He heard a muffled shout of “pause it Chim we can just come back at like 3AM to finish it” and “holy fuck where did my socks go” and “Chiiiiiiim I found the Twizzlers now we ballin’.”

“Hyung? You still there?” Taehyung said breathlessly into the receiver.

“Yeah, I’m still here. Unfortunately,” Yoongi answered warily.

“Yeah, sorry fam, I forgot to press hang up so I guess I just—"

There were a few steady beeps as Taehyung hung up. Yoongi shook his head, simultaneously annoyed, amused, and endeared by his younger brother’s antics.

Everyone started piling into the house less than ten minutes later, with Hoseok and Jungkook stopping in first, Namjoon not far behind them, and Taehyung and Jimin arriving last around eight thirty.

Hoseok had screamed “Let’s get this fucking party started guuuuuuuuuys!” before pouncing on the food and getting a game of Mario Kart started on the TV.

Yoongi sat on the far end of one of the couches, taking slow sips from his eggnog. It felt strangely warming, leaving a slight tingling sensation behind as it raced down his throat. He hummed, feeling his body warm up with sugar and cream. There was a slight bitter aftertaste, but it didn’t feel unenjoyable to him.

Seokjin, Hoseok, Namjoon, and Jungkook were locked into an intense Mario Kart race, with Jungkook leading in first as usual and Seokjin and Hoseok screaming randomly in attempts to distract him. Namjoon was eerily calm, staring deeply into the screen as he slowly passed all the other competitors, quickly moving up to fourth.

Yoongi glanced around the room and caught sight of Taehyung and Jimin huddled together on the other couch, whispering to each other and giggling. He felt nausea building up inside of him as he tore his eyes away quickly. He took a large swig of eggnog before coughing loudly. He wondered why it burned so much going down, but he just shrugged it off and took another smaller sip instead.

He heard a sudden cacophony of screeching and his eyes darted to the TV screen, where somehow Namjoon had managed to pull ahead of Jungkook just as they reached the final stretch. Yoongi watched as Jungkook leaned forward in concentration, looking more focused than he had ever looked during finals week, pressing his lips together and furrowing his eyebrows as he tried to regain his lead.

Yoongi saw Namjoon start to smirk in victory as the finish line came into sight. Seokjin and Hoseok had already stopped paying attention to their own karts, intent on seeing Jungkook lose in Mario Kart for like…the first time ever.

Jungkook swerved at the last second and crossed the finish line.

“Fuck!” Namjoon cursed. “I almost had it!”

Jungkook gave him a lazy grin. “Better luck next time, my friend.”

“That’s ‘hyung’ to you, kid!”

A sudden loud giggle drew Yoongi’s attention away from Namjoon and Jungkook’s squabbling. Jimin was giggling, his entire body shaking and almost falling off the couch. His arms were wrapped around Taehyung and in horror, Yoongi realized their legs were intertwined. Were they…?

Yoongi swallowed and stared into his pitiful half-empty cup of eggnog, wondering if it was possible to drown oneself inside red solo cup.

He heard another eruption of giggles before he decided that he’d had enough.

Yoongi downed the rest of the eggnog, wincing as it burned his throat on the way down again, before pulling himself up. He refilled his cup before padding up the stairs, escaping to the silence of his bedroom. He figured no one would notice his absence anyways.

He opened his laptop and started watching cat vines to distract himself. So far it was working pretty well. There was a warm and fuzzy feeling bubbling up inside of him, making him feel sluggish yet incredibly excited at the same time.

He polished off another cup of eggnog halfway through his third cat vine compilation. Yoongi quietly went downstairs to pour a couple of cups of eggnog before going back to watch about five more compilations.

When Seokjin found him, he was giggling his ass off and cooing at the screen like a deranged old cat lady. It was nearly midnight.

“Yoongi? What the fuck are you doing in your room?” Seokjin questioned. “Are those…cat vines? Are you okay?”

“I’m great!” Yoongi shouted. “Purrrr-fect. Get it? Because, y’know, cats n’ all.” His words slurred together slightly and he wasn’t quite sure why. All he knew was that he felt hyper and he really, really loved cats. He should get one. Taehyung was cool and all, but sometimes Yoongi needed a good cat in his life. Not that Taehyung was a pet or anything. Although, come to think of it…they did share some striking similarities…like uh, being kind of cute sometimes, doing stupid but endearing shit, and uh, always stealing affection from people…

Yoongi wrinkled his nose in distaste. “No, I don’t like that. Taehyung isn’t a cat. Cats don’t make me wannuh punch walls and scream about how much I fucking love Park Jimin. No, no, Jimin is the cat-like one, he’s uh…fluffy. Cute. Fluffy…”

Seokjin blinked at him. “What the fuck.”

“Oh, hyung!” Yoongi yelled. Had Seokjin been there this entire time? Yoongi didn’t quite remember. “You’re here? Wassup my homie? My dude, my fam, my broski—"

“Please never say ‘broski’ ever again,” Seokjin muttered, pinching his nose bridge and sighing.

“It’s a fine word! I’m sure Oxford would appreciate it; it conveys so many, uh…meanings! That’s the word!” Yoongi smiled widely. “Wait, what were you talking about again?” He giggled to himself as Seokjin gripped his arms, hauling his body up.

“I don’t know what’s up with you, but everyone else is downstairs so why don’t you get your ass down there too?”

“Okay!” Yoongi said, voice just a little too loud. “Let’s go go, power rangers!”

“Bitch, I should get paid for babysitting these fools,” Seokjin muttered darkly.

“What was that, hyung?”

“Nothing. Just get your ass downstairs; we’re waiting on you.”

Yoongi laughed and slammed his laptop shut. He tried to pick up his empty red solo cups but his vision was kind of fuzzy and blurry so he missed them four times. On the fifth try, his hand finally connected with the plastic siding of a cup and he grabbed it, letting out a loud cry of victory as he stumbled his way to the staircase.

He fell on his ass like three times on the way down, but soon enough, he was back to being seated on the couch and watching everyone fool around and yell “Merry Christmas” as the clock struck midnight. There was a movie playing on the TV, but it was too blurry for Yoongi to pay attention to it.

“Is there a reason the TV looks kind of curved to me?” Yoongi wondered aloud. Hoseok’s face suddenly came into focus, but Yoongi burst into laughter because out of nowhere, there were two, no three, Hoseoks coming into focus. He giggled and wondered how it was possible for Hoseok to clone himself so fast.

“Hyung?” Hoseok asked, waving a hand in front of Yoongi’s face. It seemed to move in slow motion, causing Yoongi to giggle a little more. “Did you drink the eggnog?”

“Oh, yeah broski! Bomb ass stuff, y’naw,” Yoongi said appreciatively. “I love me some good ass eggnog, fam.”

“How many cups did you have?”

“Like…maybe four or so.”

“Holy fuck, hyung. You’ve got to be so hammered right now,” Hoseok gasped.

“Hammered? What—"

“Hyung!” Taehyung called suddenly. “Where have you been? I feel like I haven’t seen you all night.”

“I was in my room watching cat vine compilations,” Yoongi answered proudly. He didn’t understand why everyone looked disturbed by his reply.

“He drank the eggnog,” Hoseok explained. “A lot of the eggnog.”

“Oh, Yoongi…” Seokjin mumbled, reaching forward as if to embrace Yoongi.

Yoongi brushed him off. “No! I no want affection!” He giggled suddenly as if remembering something. “No wait! I mean, I want affection but not from y’all weirdos, hehe.”

“Let him sober up by himself,” Namjoon said. “It’ll wear off eventually.”

“What’ll wear off?” Yoongi asked. “I’m confuzzled!”

“Holy fuck, of course he’s a giggly, cutesy drunk,” Hoseok muttered. “What the actual fuck.”

“Drunk? W’ya mean?”

“Hyung, just like, stay here and chill for a bit,” Hoseok instructed. “And make sure to drink some water. I’ll get you a blanket so you can rest on the couch. The rest of us are heading into the basement to play ping pong and stuff so like…just hang tight, okay?”

“Okie dokie, broski!”

“Jesus, what the fuck does ‘broski’ mean?” Hoseok mumbled as he left.

Yoongi immediately got up from the couch, grabbing onto the table as he nearly lost his balance. Hm, he thought he was a little more coordinated usually…

He stumbled his way around until he finally made it to the kitchen. There was a figure beneath the doorway and Yoongi excitedly shuffled his way over.

“Jiminie!” he shouted. “I’m so happy to see you!!”

Jimin gave him a weird look. “Hyung, are you okay?”

“I’m great!” Yoongi giggled. “No, I’m lying. I’ve been a teensy bit sad lately because you, you—OMG, Jiminie, did you know you’re so pretty?!” He bopped Jimin’s nose. “Ooh, squishy!”

Jimin stepped back a little. “Uh, what were you saying earlier, hyung? About feeling sad?”

“Oh yeah!” he grinned. “I’ve been sad since you started avoiding me. I miss seeing you around here, Jiminie. I was so mad at myself for being mean to you, bu-bu-but I just…I couldn’t help it okay?! I was just really upset about the whole gift thing because I wanted you to have the most specialest gift and then you didn’t like it! I kept the sweater and wore it indoors alllllll the time, but Hobi made me return it so that we were even. What a meanie. It was really soft,” Yoongi scrunched his nose in thought. “Like you! Very soft and cute!”

“Did you drink the eggnog, hyung?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that? Who doesn’t drink eggnog on Christmas?” Yoongi waved his hands around to emphasize his point.

“I think you should sit down…”

“Ooh look!” Yoongi pointed above them, at a small bushel of green leaves and tiny red berries. “What’s that? Mistletoe! What does that mean, Jiminie? Do you have to ki-kiss me now?”

Jimin’s face immediately turned blood red as he sputtered. “I-I don’t think that’s a good idea, hyung.”

“Whyyyyyyy?” Yoongi whined. “Do you not like me? Is that it, Jiminie? You don’t like hyung?”

“No, no, no! That’s not it at all! It’s just—"

“But you returned my gift and then you started avoiding me and now you won’t kiss me!” Yoongi huffed childishly, crossing his arms over his chest. “You don’t like me. Yoongi understands.”

“Did something prompt you to start talking in third person or…?”

“Yoongi doesn’t need to give explanations!” he shouted adamantly. “Yoongi doesn’t have to do anything!”

“Hyung, can you please just let me help you find a place to rest or—"

“No! Yoongi doesn’t want to rest!”

Jimin sighed, lips pursed in thought. He bit and released his bottom lip as he eyebrows furrowed. Yoongi was entranced by the plump flesh of Jimin’s lips. He really wanted to kiss them. He really really really—

Yoongi leaned forward and pressed his lips onto Jimin’s. They were just as soft and plump as he had imagined countless times. Jimin’s body tensed and went rigid, and Yoongi’s lips trembled a bit as he pressed them a bit harder against the younger boy’s.

After a few seconds, Yoongi pulled back and released a couple giggles.

Then he blacked out.

❄

Yoongi woke up the next day with a pounding headache. He groaned and tried to roll over, only to realize he was draped over the couch with a blanket thrown carelessly over his body.

He sighed and tried to ignore the pulsating pain emanating from his head as he trudged his way into the kitchen, desperately trying to locate some water and aspirin.

He swallowed back the pills and drank a glass of water slowly. His mind seemed to clear up as the drugs took their effect, and foggy memories from the night before slowly came to him.

Yoongi had been sitting on the couch, sipping on some eggnog, when…

Holy fuck.

No way.

Oh fuck no.

“Hyung? You’re awake?” Hoseok greeted him groggily as he stumbled around the kitchen. “Feeling okay? Did you take some painkiller?”

“What the fuck happened yesterday?!” Yoongi practically screeched at him. “I don’t—"

“You drank the eggnog,” Hoseok answered.

“What the fuck does the eggnog have to do with anything?”

“This dumbass poured tequila into the eggnog, that’s what,” Seokjin explained tiredly while pointing at Hoseok as he entered the kitchen before quickly reaching around Yoongi to get to the leftover cookies from the previous night.

“Well, I didn’t expect him to drink like, a gazillion cups of it, did I?” Hoseok retorted defensively.

“Guys,” Yoongi said in a panicked tone. “Where is everyone else? Is Jimin still here? Holy fuck, what am I—"

“Namjoon and Jungkook went home like an hour ago. I think Taehyung and Jimin left to go hang at Jimin’s place or something. It’s just us two now to keep you company through what must be a hell of a hangover,” Seokjin replied, cookie crumbs sticking to his lips as he munched loudly.

“No, no, you don’t understand,” Yoongi almost yelled, a note of desperation entering his voice. “I fucked up. I really, really fucked up. Oh my god.”

“Whatever happened when you were drunk off your ass last night, I’m sure it couldn’t have been that bad—"

“I kissed Jimin. Under the mistletoe.”

“Yas, hyung, get that ass!!!” Hoseok flailed around in celebration. “I’m proud of you for confronting your feelings. You’ve come so far, I’m so proud—"

“He didn’t react. He didn’t even agree to the kiss. I just went for it and—Holy fuck, I’m a monster, aren’t I?” Yoongi buried his face in his hands. “Oh my god, what do I do?”

There was a brief silence. “Well…shit, man,” Seokjin said helpfully. “Good luck with that.”

Hoseok was making a face that Yoongi couldn’t tell if he was in pain or trying really hard not to laugh. Knowing Hoseok, it was probably a mixture of both. “I’ve never met someone so bad with their feels, hyung.”

“My feels?”

“Your feels. Your feels for Jimin’s sweater paws, his smile, his voice, his cheeks, his thighs, even his goddamn ass—"

“Shut the fuck up, Hoseok, I swear to fucking god—"

“You’re a fucking mess,” Hoseok concluded. “But I really do appreciate the free entertainment.”

“You brat, I swear I’m gonna—"

“It’s too early in the morning for you to already be murderous,” Hoseok cut Yoongi off. “Plus, if I were you, I’d be doing everything to try to figure this whole Jimin situation out instead of panicking in the kitchen and most likely, stress eating a boatload of Twix bars.”

Yoongi hated that Hoseok was kind of right, something that was happening way too often lately.

He rubbed his hand over his face. “So what exactly am I supposed to do? He probably hates me or something. God, I think I just managed to simultaneously fuck everything over and fuck myself over by finding out exactly how good it feels to kiss those plush—"

“Ew, we don’t need the details, Yoongi,” Seokjin wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Just find a way to talk to him. You seem upset and shit, so maybe go for an apology to ease your conscience. It’s Jimin though, so I doubt he’s really mad at you, considering how drunk and out of it you were last night anyways.”

“That doesn’t make it right,” Yoongi replied. “You don’t just like, kiss someone out of the blue. I’m like, 98 percent sure that falls outside the bounds of acceptable conduct.”

“Hyung, chill. Please,” Hoseok sighed. “It’s not that big of a deal, honestly. I might’ve locked lips with a person or two while tipsy.”

“Okay, first of all, ew. And second of all, you aren’t exactly the best example to follow, Hoseok,” Yoongi retorted. “Anyways, see you all later. I gotta—I really gotta figure out how to fix this.” Yoongi waved as he made his way over to the stairs. “Thanks for the advice, hyung!”

“What about me?!” Hoseok protested in an offended tone.

“I only thank people who are helpful!” Yoongi shouted back, chuckling to himself at the indignant squawk Hoseok let out in response.

The first thing Yoongi did once he was back in the safety of his bedroom was check his cellphone. No notifications. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

The second thing he did was charge his laptop, which was dead after the hours of cat vine compilations he had watched the previous night.

The third thing he did was grab the nearest pillow to scream into it.

“Yoongi-yah!” Seokjin called. “Are you okay? We heard that!”

Yoongi ignored him and proceeded to scream a second time.

“Dude, that was loud as fuck, is there a murderer in your bedroom or something? Are you being violently stabbed?! Do I need to fight a bitch?!” Hoseok yelled.

Yoongi wanted to scream a third time but decided against it. Screaming into pillows could only get you so far, unfortunately.

He considered writing a text message to Jimin. What he liked about that option was that he could carefully choose and edit what he wanted to say and that he didn’t have to see Jimin’s face or hear his voice while doing it (because lord knew how easily affected by Jimin Yoongi was). The bad part was that it would probably seem cold, impersonal, or worse, insincere.

He thought about asking Jimin to come over so he could apologize in person. At least that way Jimin could see that he was genuine about apologizing and that he felt really, really bad about what happened. The only problem was that Yoongi was a fucking mess, and his messiness was amplified in Jimin’s presence. Seeing Jimin’s face would probably make him feel more ashamed and flustered and his words would get all jumbled up like they always seemed to around Jimin.

And so that left only one option left.

Yoongi wrote out the main points he wanted to say in his apology on a piece of notebook paper.

1. I’m sorry for kissing you without your permission.
2. I understand if you’re really upset with me and shit.
3. Please don’t hate me.
4. I don’t think I would be able to handle it if you did.
5. I hope this doesn’t make things weird between us.
6. Who am I kidding it got weird the second I decided to fall in love with you and your fucking perfect self and perfect ass and perfect fucking smile
7. I’m just really sorry, Jiminie. And I really love you. Fuck.

Yoongi felt like a fucking mess as he steeled his nerves and unlocked his phone. He pressed on Jimin’s contact and listened as it rung once, twice, three times before he heard a click.

“Hello? Yoongi hyung?”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Yoongi really had not prepared himself to hear Jimin’s perfect and angelic voice so soon. Holy fuck.

“Hello? Are you there? Did you butt dial me or something?” Jimin said, voice slightly tinny from Yoongi’s cellphone’s speaker. “Guess I’ll just hang—"

“No!” Yoongi almost shouted at his phone. “I’m here, I’m here, just—Um, sorry.”

What a mess.

“Oh. Is there a reason you called me? Tae is with me; we were gonna hang out all day today. Did you need him back home or something…?”

“No, I just, uh,” Yoongi cleared his throat. “I just wanted to apologize to you, Jimin. For what happened um, last night.”

“…oh. Okay.”

“It was completely inappropriate of me to…kiss you like that, especially without asking you first or getting your consent and I’m really sorry.”

“Oh no, it’s totally fine, hyung. I knew you were a little tipsy anyways so—"

“It’s not an excuse,” Yoongi interrupted. “I shouldn’t have come onto you like that and I’m just so sorry, Jimin.”

There was silence from the other end of the phone. Yoongi panicked.

“And I mean, I know it was really awkward and shit because I know you’re really into Taehyung, not me anyways hahaha. And like, why would an angel like you wanna kiss me? I don’t know what I was thinking, lol—" Did he really just say “lol” over the phone? Yes, yes he did. “—so um. I’m just really really sorry and stuff and—" He glanced down at his notes. “—please don’t hate me even though I totally wouldn’t blame you if you did because like, I kind of hate myself too right now hahaha.” Yoongi paused for a couple of beats, feeling the tips of his ears warm.

“Whoa. That’s a lot to process—Did you just say I’m into Taehyung? What the—"

“Yeah so, I just wanted you to know that. That I’m sorry. Um,” Yoongi tried to take a deep breath and failed. “Yeah.” He heard Jimin take a breath as if he wanted to say something. More anxiety filled Yoongi’s veins. “Okay bye.”

He hung up before he could hear anymore of Jimin’s response. Yoongi buried his face in his hands. Did he really just do that?

He was a fucking failure of a human. What the fuck.

When he screamed into his pillow this time, Seokjin and Hoseok immediately came rushing up to check on him, because they couldn’t really tell if the sound was closer to a scream or a sob.

Although the hot tears of shame that trickled out of Yoongi’s eyes seemed to tell all.

❄

In the hours following the embarrassing phone call, Yoongi stayed in his room, only leaving to feed himself or use the bathroom. Hoseok and Seokjin had left after eating lunch with him, constantly giving him sympathetic looks. Yoongi felt relieved once they were gone, however; he didn’t need or want their pity right now.

And so Yoongi found himself agonizing, once again, over his complete and utter infatuation with Park Jimin and what a fool he’d made himself look it in the younger boy’s presense over and over and over again. Fuck, wasn’t he supposed to be the cool hyung?

Yoongi heard a knock at his bedroom door. “Hyung? Can I come in?”

He sighed to himself. “Yeah, sure, Tae.”

Taehyung entered the room and immediately threw himself onto the bed. Yoongi grunted from his position a few centimeters away.

“So, hyung, you want to tell me why you’ve been moping for like, the past day and a half?”

Had that much time passed already?

“Honestly, not really,” Yoongi muttered.

“Let me take a guess then,” Taehyung said, propping himself up on one elbow and peering over at Yoongi with a gleam of mischief in his eyes. “You’re moping because you kissed Jimin?”

Yoongi sucked in a deep breath and tried to play it off. Jimin had told Taehyung about that? Fuck, what must Taehyung think about him—

“Or are you moping because you’re in love with Jimin?”

Yoongi choked, quite literally. After a long coughing fit, he turned on his side to face Taehyung, who looked like he was trying very valiantly to not laugh directly at his elder brother’s face.

“You know, you weren’t exactly subtle about it.”

“Bu-but—"

“Oh come on, it was literally so fucking obvious. Don’t insult my intelligence,” Taehyung said in a casual tone while picking at his nails. “I think everyone and their mother knew about your feelings, hyung.”

“Fuck, how much do you know—"

“I know enough,” Taehyung replied, a small smirk forming on his smug face. Yoongi shrunk into himself and really hoped he wasn’t turning as red as a tomato. (But knowing his luck, he probably already looked like a firetruck by this point.)

“Also, a phone call? Really, hyung? Of all ways to talk to Jimin, you choose to call him?” Yoongi could distinctly feel blood rushing to the tips of his ears. “And you hung up. You were on speaker, by the way; I heard the whole fucking thing. You’re a fucking mess, hyung.” Taehyung let out a hearty chuckle.

“…brat. Is that any way to talk to your hyung?” Yoongi retorted after taking a couple of seconds to gather his wits. Who knew getting lectured on your love life by your younger brother could be so completely and utterly humiliating?

“Also that whole bullshit about Jimin being in love with me. What the fuck, hyung? Are you really that fucking dense?”

Yoongi sputtered. “What do you mean? Aren’t you two, like—"

“Oh god no. We’re platonic soulmates. Jesus Christ, ew.” Taehyung wrinkled his nose in disgust to emphasize his point. “Besides, you already know I’ve been thirsting over Jungkook for half a year now.” Yoongi looked away, ashamed at his lack of perceptiveness. “Oh my god, noooo—you totally didn’t, did you, hyung? I don’t know if I should call you self-absorbed or frighteningly oblivious; honestly, it’s kind of a talent that you haven’t noticed the way I look at Kookie, or how I always talk about him, or how we made out at the party a couple days ago—"

“I don’t need the details!” Yoongi yelped, covering his ears. “Nasty.”

Taehyung grinned. “But anyways, the point is you’re stupid and you really need to fix whatever this is between you and Jimin.”

“Fix what?” Yoongi groaned. “There’s literally nothing between Jimin and me. That’s exactly the problem!”

“Um, wow. You are seriously way more dense than I thought. Do I need to spell out every little thing to you?”

Yoongi hid his face in his hands. “Gah, I swear to god, you just came here to embarrass me and damage my already low sense of dignity.”

“It’s kind of funny to hear the guy who says ‘lol’ in real life talk about having a sense of dignity, but you know…I digress,” Taehyung muttered. “Man, I don’t know whether to be horrified or impressed right now.”

Yoongi tried to shove Taehyung off the bed. “This isn’t helping!”

Taehyung swatted back at Yoongi. “Fine, fine! Stop, hyung! Jimin really likes you too, okay! You guys have been dancing around each other for so fucking long and pining like there’s no tomorrow. It’s kind of adorable and sad at the same time.”

“Wait, what?!” Yoongi felt his body freeze up. “Jimin…likes…me? How? What? When? Why? I don’t understand?”

“What exactly don’t you understand?” Taehyung sighed.

“I mean, if he liked me, don’t you think he would’ve like, kissed me back or something? Or call me after my weird ass apology to tell me he wasn’t into you and that he enjoyed the kiss or whatever? It just doesn’t add up, Tae.” Yoongi pressed his lips together for a moment. “You know you don’t need to make up lies to make me feel better. It’s okay, Tae; hyung can handle a little bit of rejection and sadness.”

“GOD Y’ALL ARE SO FUCKING STUPID—" Taehyung seethed briefly before collecting himself. “Jimin is clueless too. He told me he wasn’t gonna call you back because ‘oh my god, Tae Tae, he really regrets the kiss and so he probably doesn’t really like me? I don’t know, maybe he was just super drunk and wanted affection? It probably could’ve been anyone, oh my god, ahhhh.’” Taehyung waved his hands around and imitated Jimin’s high pitched voice using a falsetto.

“But, I still don’t get why—"

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST AND ALL THINGS HOLY LIKE JUNGKOOK’S THIGHS, GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER, HYUNG,” Taehyung yelled exasperatedly. “What I said was, Jimin really thinks you regret what happened and that you don’t like him.”

“But I literally told him—"

“He’s just as oblivious as you, hyung. You literally have to tell him in the most explicit way possible, like sneak into his house and lay on his bed naked with a fucking rose in your mouth or something!”

“Jesus, you are disgusting—"

“I don’t care how you do it, just fucking confess to him and put us all out of our misery! You guys are so clueless; I suppose you’re perfect for each other.”

“I just, I don’t know, Taehyung—"

“Then figure it out, hyung,” Taehyung sighed. “And do it soon. Geez, you guys are a mess.”

Yoongi made a vaguely offended noise as Taehyung hopped off the bed and exited the room.

Great, Yoongi thought as soon as he was back to being alone in his room, now I have to figure out a way to get this shit worked out with Jimin.

Fuuuuuuuuuck.

❄

On New Year’s Eve, everyone found their way back into the Min household. Yoongi hovered in the corner of the living room, like usual, except this time his red solo cup was completely filled with water, not spiked eggnog, thank fuck.

It had taken all of Yoongi’s self-control to not obsessively stare at Jimin and his fucking beautiful face. Jimin was wearing an oversized sweater and ripped jeans again, and boy, was Yoongi feeling really fucking attacked.

He’d almost choked on his water when Jimin bent over to pick up something from the floor, especially since Jimin had done it literally right in front of Yoongi’s face. He could have sworn he saw the younger smirk and wink at him before turning away to talk to Taehyung, but he could have just been imagining things. (He seemed to be doing a lot of imagining lately, especially when it had something to do with Park Jimin.)

When everyone had given up on playing Mario Kart and random outdated board games, they all gathered around the TV to watch some New Year’s countdown show. Seokjin and Namjoon had fallen asleep fifteen minutes in, and they were draped over each other on one of the couches, unconsciously cuddling like the gross ass people they were. (Although, Yoongi had to admit, he wouldn’t be opposed to cuddling as long as it involved a certain someone…)

Taehyung and Jungkook were sitting beside Yoongi, chattering away and thankfully, not making out (at least not yet…Yoongi would definitely make sure to avoid them later). Hoseok was uncomfortably curled up beside Seokjin and Namjoon, looking both impressed and vaguely nauseated with the way the two had managed to fall asleep positioned so closely together. (Honestly, Yoongi couldn’t tell where one person ended and the other started…gross.)

Yoongi glanced down, and this was where things got tricky. Jimin had opted to sit on the floor, presumably in front of Taehyung, but since Yoongi’s younger brother was a fucking giant with long ass legs, Jimin was positioned just slightly to the right of Taehyung…and just to the left of Yoongi.

He tried to act unaffected as Jimin leaned back and slightly rested his head on the side of Yoongi’s thigh. He’d definitely forgotten to breathe and gulped a couple of times as Jimin shifted his head around to get comfortable, but Yoongi had managed to stay somewhat composed.

Jimin hummed to himself, seemingly completely immersed in the television program. After a couple of moments, he shifted again, moving to the right slightly. He yawned kittenishly, stretching his arms and neck before leaning back again…

And resting his head directly in the space between Yoongi’s slightly parted legs. Fuck.

Yoongi tried to distract himself from the fact that Jimin’s head was literally right in between his thighs by thinking about things that disgusted him, like the image of Taehyung and Jungkook making out and the one time Hoseok laughed so hard he snorted and milk came out of his nose in weirdly foamy bubbles.

But despite those extremely vomit-inducing thoughts, Yoongi still…popped a fucking boner in the middle of the living room, like the stellar human being he was.

Goddamn it, he thought while cursing under his breath. Fucking hell.

He adjusted himself slightly so the bulge in his pants wasn’t so obvious. He coughed slightly before lightly tapping the top of Jimin’s head.

The younger boy immediately turned around. “Hyung?” he said breathily. (Yoongi kind of wished that breathy voice wasn’t doing things for him, but alas, he was a weak ass human when it came to Jimin apparently.)

This wasn’t at all how Yoongi pictured his first conversation with Jimin of the night to go, but he swallowed back the simmering shame and replied, “Yeah, um. Could you like, lean forward a bit? I need to get up to use the restroom. Be back in a minute.”

Jimin gave him a smile (fuck fuck fuck why did he smile so prettily? It wasn’t fucking fair) and immediately scooted away from the sofa. He sent Yoongi a cute little wave as the elder resisted the urge to run from the scene and forced himself to walk, at a normal, leisurely pace, to the bathroom.

He breathed out a sigh of relief as soon as the door was closed and locked behind him, leaning against it as he pulled himself out of his pants. He closed his eyes and let out a hiss as he wrapped a hand around the shaft.

Yoongi’s mind tortured him with images of Jimin’s small, soft hands and his pink, plump lips and of course, his perfect round ass as his hand pumped faster and faster.

Perhaps if Yoongi had an ounce of shame left at this point, he would’ve been embarrassed at how quickly he came (three minutes? Really?) but the only thing he really felt at the moment was relief and satisfaction.

He let himself have a few moments to calm down his breathing before reaching for the tissues to clean his mess up. He washed his hands afterwards, eyes boring into his reflection in the mirror. His cheeks were flushed pink and lips swollen from where he had bitten them while trying to keep quiet.

Yoongi splashed cold water on his face and prayed that he looked somewhat presentable as he finally opened the door to the bathroom and made his way back to the living room. He kept as blank and straight a face as possible, doing everything to make it seem like he hadn’t been doing anything while he was in the bathroom for an excessively long amount of time.

No one seemed to take notice as he took his place on the couch again. Taehyung and Jungkook were nowhere to be found (and who knew whatever the fuck they were out doing together anyways) and Jimin had taken a seat on the far end of the couch. Hoseok had fallen asleep on the same couch as Namjoon and Seokjin. Yoongi could hear light snores coming from Namjoon as the three of them slept peacefully.

Jimin smiled as Yoongi sat down. The elder tried to look natural and give his usual close-lipped smile back. He took a long sip of his water as did his best to keep his eyes focused on the television screen and not how fucking delicious Jimin’s thighs looked in those fucking jeans, all toned and bulging as the younger shifted and spread them while trying to get comfortable.

Yoongi swallowed harshly and tried humming a song to himself to distract himself from having more inappropriate thoughts about the beautiful boy sitting next to him.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he barely felt a soft and warm weight press against his side. Yoongi looked to his left and saw that Jimin had moved away from his position on the far end of the couch, opting instead to sidle his way up against Yoongi, the side of his body pressing against the elder as Jimin leaned against Yoongi’s shoulder.

Jimin hummed, and Yoongi tried not to choke. “Hyung…you’re warm,” Jimin whispered hotly into his ear. Yoongi felt his pulse start to race. “It’s almost midnight now; are you excited for the new year?”

“Y-yeah, Jiminie. It’ll be…fun,” Yoongi sputtered.

Jimin hummed contently again, shifting to press closer to Yoongi so the elder could feel the vibrations of his voice and the younger’s warm breath on his neck.

It took a moment for Yoongi to really take note of the strange flush to Jimin’s cheeks, the glassiness in his eyes, and the strong bitter scent lingering in his breaths. When Jimin took another sip from the red solo cup in his hand, it finally clicked for Yoongi.

“Um, Jiminie? Are you drinking?” Yoongi questioned, already feeling a frown appear on his face.

Jimin hummed in reply. “Maybe a little. Not, hehe, that much though.” The slur to his words was definitely much more pronounced to Yoongi this time. “Just some soju I found lying a-around.”

“You know that’s not good for you, right?”

“Says the one who drank a shit ton of spiked eggnog a couple of days ago.”

“I didn’t know it was spiked, okay? No one bothered to tell me or even—"

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever,” Jimin giggled. “Don’t think that I forgot what happened afterwards, though.”

Yoongi felt his cheeks burn as he quickly looked away from Jimin’s smirking face. “Please don’t remind me about that right now.”

“F-fine,” Jimin hiccupped slightly. “Even though you’re really fun to tease, hyung.” The younger winked at him and Yoongi felt the breath whoosh out of his lungs.

The TV program started counting the seconds to midnight.

“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one—"

Yoongi turned to say “Happy New Year’s” to Jimin, only to have himself silenced as the younger surged forward to press his lips firmly against Yoongi’s.

The elder let out a strangled gasp against Jimin’s plush lips. Yoongi’s entire body froze up as Jimin somehow moved closer and closer, lips applying more pressure against the elder’s, his warm tongue tracing the seam between Yoongi’s lips and teeth slightly nibbling at the elder’s bottom lip.

Yoongi’s head was spinning and his lungs were screaming for air as Jimin pulled back.

Yoongi blinked a few times, and the world finally came back into focus. Jimin’s cheeks were flushed a deep red, his lips swollen and slick, and his eyes—

It took a few seconds for Yoongi to realize that Jimin was really fucking pissed.

“Really, hyung? So you kiss me first and then when I do it, you don’t reciprocate? What the fuck?” The tips of Jimin’s ears were turning red, and Yoongi could picture cartoonish steam coming out of them as Jimin’s eyes narrowed at him. “What kind of fucking game is this to you?”

“I—I, what—" Yoongi couldn’t bring himself to form a coherent sentence as Jimin’s eyes suddenly filled with tears.

“Oh my god!” Jimin wailed, frustrated tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes. “Fuck you, asshole. I’ve only been in fucking love with you forever and you had to go give me false hope by being so nice to me and kissing me and calling me an angel over the phone!! Fuck you, hyung!”

Jimin stood up from the couch quickly, angrily scrubbing at the tears on his face with the sleeve of his sweater. “God, fuck you for being so fucking perfect and loveable and for playing with my feelings! FUCK YOU!”

And with that, he stormed off, still muttering curses under his breath.

Yoongi sat on the couch for an excessively long amount of time, fingers faintly pressing against his lips in memory of the kiss he and Jimin had just shared and mind struggling to process everything that had just happened in the previous five minutes.

It finally hit Yoongi that Jimin just said that he was in love with him, that they had just shared the most mind blowing kiss Yoongi had ever experiences, and that he was fucking crying. He was crying and Yoongi wasn’t there by his side to wipe the fucking tears away and cuddle him like the adorable baby boy he was.

“Jesus fuck, Yoongi,” he muttered to himself, quickly standing up from the couch. “Get your shit together.”

He immediately began running around, trying to find Jimin. The thought of Jimin crying to himself made Yoongi’s heart clench and arms tremble.

He searched the kitchens, opening up the pantry and all the cabinets and even the fucking refrigerator to see if Jimin was lurking anywhere.

He ran around the basement, panting like a rabid dog while calling out Jimin’s name. He checked inside the washing and drying machines while he was at it.

Then he rushed upstairs, checking the guest bedroom first. He pulled out all the drawers and opened the closet and dropped to the ground to search under the bed.

Yoongi slammed open Taehyung’s bedroom door, only to be unpleasantly greeted by the slight of Taehyung and Jungkook sucking each other’s faces off enthusiastically, probably initiating some kind of demonic ritual to combine two souls into one body or some shit. They didn’t even look up as Yoongi made a loud gagging sound and shut the door quickly.

He dashed around the house one more time, still finding no signs of Jimin, before giving up and trudging his way back to his bedroom, head hung low as he pushed open the door. He collapsed on the bed, only to notice a mysterious lump under the blankets next to him.

Yoongi pulled the blankets away and was greeted by a sniffling Jimin nuzzling his nose deeply into his sheets, murmuring softly to himself about how nice it smelled as if in a trance.

Yoongi cleared his throat and Jimin looked up, a petrified look suddenly appearing in his eyes.

“J-Jimin?” Yoongi choked out, hating the way his voice cracked on the delicate syllables. “H-hey. Please don’t cry. Hyung is here.”

Jimin burst into tears again and buried his face in Yoongi’s chest. His small fingers fisted in the material of Yoongi’s thin shirt as he muttered “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you so so much” over and over again.

Yoongi patted his head and whispered soothing words to calm Jimin down slightly. After a few minutes, Jimin’s tears stopped and the only sound in the room was the younger’s heavy breathing and the sound of Yoongi’s steady heartbeat.

Jimin pressed his face deeper into Yoongi’s shirt and released a stream of giggles. “Hyung, hyung, hyung! Diminie wants cuddles!”

Yoongi felt himself grinning at Jimin’s cute drunk antics and wrapped his arms around the boy’s smaller form. “It’s okay, Jiminie. Hyung is here for you.”

“Diminie really really really likes hyung, okay,” Jimin said in a breathless voice. “Hyung likes Diminie too, right?”

“Hyung really really really likes Diminie,” Yoongi answered with a fond smile on his face. “Okay? So don’t cry anymore. Hyung really likes you.”

“Yay,” Jimin giggled harder. “Diminie is so, so—" He hiccupped before shakily inhaling again. “Diminie is so happy right now, hyung.”

Yoongi laughed. “Just how much soju did you drink, Jiminie?”

“Not…that…much,” Jimin huffed out between waves of hiccups. He pulled back to look up and pout at Yoongi. “Diminie wants kisses!” He demanded loudly, a slight whine in his voice.

“Ah, I’m—oomph.” Jimin pressed his lips against Yoongi’s without warning. It took Yoongi a moment to react and pull back. “Jiminie, settle down please. I just—Let’s wait until you’re sober, okay? I don’t—It doesn’t really feel right and I don’t wanna like, take advantage of you while you’re so tipsy.”

Jimin looked like he was ready to throw a tantrum. “But Diminie wants kisses now!” He whined, squirming in Yoongi’s arms.

“Well, Diminie has to wait,” Yoongi chided. “Be a good boy for hyung, okay? We can talk until you’re sober enough to like…consent, alright? I just don’t want to be an asshole and have you do things you’ll regret in the morning?”

“Con-consent? Whadafook? It’s jus’ kisses, hyungie!”

“Doesn’t matter; you still gotta be sober.”

“Stop bein’ so…gwentle…gentwle…gentlemanly! I don’t like it!”

Yoongi started laughing so hard he almost cried. “Oh my god, stop being so fucking adorable! Jeez, just wait an hour or so. Like I said, we can just talk for a bit and cuddle until you’re sober, okay?”

“Fine,” Jimin huffed, a pronounced pout still on his lips. “Meanie.”

“Jiminie, I promise you will get your kisses; just please, be patient.”

“O-okay, I’ll be…good. For hyung.”

Yoongi suppressed a squeal and patted Jimin’s soft hair gently. “Thank you, Jiminie.”

It was quiet for a few seconds before Jimin spoke up again. “So…hyung likes Diminie, huh?”

“Yep. I’ve liked you for like…over a year now?” Yoongi felt a blush rise to his face and looked down at the floor as if to hide it. “Yeah…”

“Oooh, me too!”

“What?!”

“Diminie’s liked you for a very long time too!!” Jimin replied enthusiastically. “Diminie has liked hyung since like, for, for…forever.”

“Jesus, why does he have to be so fucking cute all the time?” Yoongi asked out loud, mostly to himself as Jimin giggled and nuzzled his nose in the smooth slopes of the elder’s neck.

They stayed wrapped up together for about another forty-five minutes, with Jimin randomly blurting out his thoughts (he really had no filter at all when tipsy) and Yoongi chuckling and pulling the younger closer to him.

It was nearly 2AM when Jimin yawned and settled his head right below Yoongi’s chin. “H-hyung, I think…I’m kind of tired,” Jimin said, voice slurred from sleepiness instead of alcohol this time. “But I’m, uh, kind of sobered up now so can I at least cash in a couple of those kisses before I pass out?”

Yoongi hated how flustered he became immediately. “Uh, yeah…sure. Just, uh—"

Jimin shut him up by tilting his head slightly and connecting their lips, unconsciously pushing Yoongi against the bed as he leaned over him. The younger’s tongue slotted between Yoongi’s lips, and the elder parted them quickly, his body completely pliant underneath Jimin’s.

Jimin explored Yoongi’s mouth for a few more minutes before pulling back, giggling at Yoongi’s dazed and breathless expression before collapsing on top of him.

Yoongi found himself slowly smiling too as he shifted Jimin’s body to rest next to his, pulling the covers up to the younger’s chin before closing his eyes as well, allowing himself to drift off into a warm, peaceful sleep with a beautiful boy by his side.

❄

When Yoongi woke up, he felt strangely warm. He tried to shift around and roll over, but there was a steady weight pressing down on his chest and his limbs.

He cracked an eye open to the sight of a sleeping Jimin wrapped around his body, arms and legs curled around Yoongi like a small koala. His head rested on Yoongi’s chest, the ends of his soft hair tickling the point of the elder’s chin.

Yoongi just sighed happily and slowly freed one arm from under Jimin’s grasp to firmly circle it around the younger boy’s waist, pulling his smaller body closer and cocking his head to the side to watch the beautiful boy sleep. Jimin’s deep breaths were exhaled in gently puffs, his eyelashes fluttering as he murmured softly in his sleep.

It was quiet in the room for a few more moments before slowly Jimin stirred, yawning cutely before rolling off of Yoongi to stretch his arms. Yoongi tried not to let his gaze linger on how Jimin’s shirt rode up as he stretched, showing a thin strip of a very toned, tanned abdomen. It was too goddamn early to be this thirsty.

Jimin blinked sleepily up at Yoongi before croaking out a little “Good morning, hyung.”

Yoongi smiled. “Good morning to you too, Jiminie.”

Jimin hummed and pressed himself right up against Yoongi, nuzzling his nose into the fabric of the shirt covering elder’s chest and inhaling deeply.

“Jimin, what are you doing?” Yoongi chuckled airily as Jimin buried his nose further into the fabric.

“Hm, smells good, hyung.” Jimin yawned with his face still pressed against Yoongi’s chest. “Can you get me some water? Or some aspirin? Or maybe even like, both of them?”

“Man, the first thing in the morning and you already have a list of demands for me,” Yoongi joked playfully. “You must have a killer hangover, though so just give me a second.”

He tried to get up, but Jimin had wrapped his arms around the elder’s torso again. Yoongi pushed at the younger boy’s arms. “I can’t get up unless you let go of me, you know.”

Jimin glanced up and pouted. “But I don’t wanna let go! You’re warm and you smell good, okay?”

“Good to know that I’m eerily similar to a scented candle, but anyways, you really need to drink some water, Jiminie,” Yoongi chided gently, trying valiantly and almost shaking with effort to not to laugh at Jimin’s adorable antics.

“But you can’t cuddle with a scented candle, and I love cuddles.”

“You need water first, Jimin. Then cuddles.”

“…fine. But hurry up.”

“You’re so damn demanding and needy in the mornings, geez,” Yoongi chuckled as Jimin finally released him.

Jimin’s round cheeks immediately turned a faint shade of pink. “S-shut up! It’s not a crime to like cuddles in the morning.”

“I never said that, baby.”

Jimin threw a pillow at his head. “Fuck you! I’m gonna have a heart attack because of you and the way your voice says ‘baby’ to me in the sexiest way fucking possible—"

“Sexy, huh?” Yoongi raised his eyebrows suggestively.

“Just get out!” Jimin yelled while covering his face with his hands. “Gahhhhh!”

Yoongi laughed heartily as he walked out of the room, returning quickly with some painkiller and a glass of water for Jimin. It seemed like everyone had already left from the previous night, and Yoongi checked the clock on his way back to see that it was just after eleven.

Jimin thanked him profusely as he accepted the aspirin and the water. Yoongi watched as the younger boy gulp the water down zealously before he decided to go try to freshen up in the bathroom.

Yoongi splashed cold water all over his face, letting it sting for moment before whispering to the mirror, “This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill. Park Jimin slept in your bed—with you in it—last night. He cuddled you and kissed you and oh my god I really can’t do this oh my god oh my god what do I fucking do?”

He stared deeply into his reflection, eyes narrowed as if he was really expecting an answer, before he snapped out of it and opted to just brush his teeth.

As he was rinsing his mouth out, Yoongi heard a knock at the door. “Hyung? Can I come in?” Jimin asked.

Yoongi opened the door to a sheepish-looking Jimin who was staring shyly at his feet. “Hey, do you um, do you happen to have a spare toothbrush?”

Yoongi wordlessly handed Jimin one of the spare, unused traveling toothbrushes he kept in the cabinet above the sink.

“Oh, uh, thank you…hyung,” Jimin stuttered, his face blushing harder as he reached for the toothpaste. “I just that that, uh—"

“That it wouldn’t be favorable to make out with morning breath?”

“Y-yeah,” Jimin said in a choked voice. “That.”

Yoongi giggled soundlessly at the younger boy’s flustered expression as he exited the bathroom. He laid down on his bed, staring into the ceiling and wondering, man what the fuck was going on?

A weight collapsed onto the bed beside him. “Hyung!” Jimin called cheerfully.

“Jiminie.”

“…can we cuddle?”

Yoongi felt himself smile at the shy way Jimin had asked such an innocent question. “Is that even a question? Of course.”

Jimin beamed and curled into Yoongi’s side immediately. Yoongi ran his fingers gently through Jimin’s soft, fine hair, occasionally tousling the locks affectionately.

“Hyung?” Jimin called again after a few moments. “Can I kiss you?”

Yoongi leaned down and captured the younger boy’s lips with his own. It wasn’t long before the kiss turned passionate, hot tongues intermingling and exploring. Several minutes went by, with the only sounds in the room being their heavy breathing and of lips pressing together.

When they broke away from his other, Yoongi blinked rapidly as his racing heart beat gradually slowed down and his breathing returned to normal.

Jimin looked just as affected. “W-wow.”

Yoongi touched his swollen lips with the pads of his fingertips. “Hm…could get used to this.”

Jimin giggled and shoved at him playfully. “S-stop!”

Yoongi just smiled back in a daze. He absentmindedly brushed Jimin’s bangs off of his forehead with a hand before gently caressing the boy’s cheek.

“So, um…you like me?” Yoongi whispered dumbly.

“Are you seriously asking me that right now?”

“Well, I mean, we kind of talked about it last night but I just wanna, you know…confirm it a little…I honestly still can’t believe I haven’t woken up from some very sick and vivid dream yet.”

Jimin’s cheeks warmed underneath Yoongi’s touch and he scrunched his nose slightly. “Yes, you idiot. I like you. A lot.”

“Good.” Yoongi dropped his hand from Jimin’s cheek and stared off at the wall, a giddy expression starting to form on his face.

“…you know, usually in these situations, you’re supposed to say it back…”

“Oh yeah,” Yoongi cleared his throat. “I, Min Yoongi, like you, Park Jimin, as well. Satisfied?”

“I kind of hate you right now.”

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time you beg me to cuddle you.”

“Hyung, you’re not being fair!” Jimin pouted. “Jeez, all I wanted was just a little validation and then you just go off and—"

Yoongi cupped Jimin’s face with his hands dramatically. “Please don’t be upset, Jiminie. Hyung is sorry.”

Jimin kept his eyes narrowed. “Whatever. Anyways, I guess we should talk.”

Yoongi hummed. “About what?”

“Like…everything. The gifts thing, the first kiss, the like, weird ass phone call…all of it. I have questions.”

“Ask away then.”

“Be honest, okay? How upset were you by me trying to return your gift a couple weeks ago?”

“Hm, I wasn’t really upset. Just kind of…hurt. I don’t know. I just really wanted you to like it, I guess.” Yoongi paused to think for a moment. “Yeah, I was just mostly hurt by the fact you went to the store before coming to me first. Like you didn’t like me or trust me enough to talk to me before trying to return the damn thing.”

“That’s fair,” Jimin replied. “For the record, I felt really bad about it so I didn’t really want to, uh, talk to you. It was kind of really stupid, looking back on it.” He pursed his lips in thought. “Second question: did you really, really hate the sweater? You returned it, right? I heard Hoseok talking about it before we, you know, had that little spat, and I was kind of…annoyed by it?”

“I didn’t like, hate hate it,” Yoongi started, before quickly correcting himself. “Wait, no, that doesn’t make any fucking sense. I mean…it was like a fake hate? Because I don’t wear the color pink? I honestly probably would have secretly kept it if Hoseok hadn’t been all like ‘bitch if you ain’t balls enough to talk to Jimin about your feels, just go return it and move on and stop pining so much because it’s painful to watch’ to me.”

Jimin choked on a laugh. “What? Hoseok said that?”

“I paraphrased, but basically, yes.”

“Well, how would you paraphrase your overall thoughts on the sweater then?”

“Something along the lines of…’wow I can’t ever wear this outside but it’s adorable like the person who bought it for me so ya boy is gonna wear this all the time whenever he’s alone.’” Yoongi deadpanned. “Plus, the fabric was kind of soft,” he added as an afterthought.

Jimin covered his mouth as he howled with laughter. “Why the fuck are you being so extra right now? Are you okay, hyung?”

“Nah, I’m never okay when you’re around. It’s like a perpetual state of terror and extreme happiness.”

Jimin blinked. “I’m not sure how to interpret that…”

Yoongi shrugged, still feeling giddiness racing through his veins.

“So like, about the phone call…what did you mean when you said I was like, really into Taehyung?”

“Just like…the way you two acted, how you looked at each other…I don’t know, I just kind of assumed—"

“Well, you assumed wrong.”

“Thank you for stating the obvious. I just mean, like…you two are literally almost always together? You were hanging with him here like every other day or so? It was kind of like you lived here, to be honest…”

“You wanna know why I was over so much?” Jimin asked with an amused smile on his face. “I kind of came over a lot to ask Taehyung for advice. About you.”

“O-oh…” Yoongi said slowly.

“…yeah. It’s kind of funny how things work out, huh?”

“’Funny’ is one way to put it…” Yoongi muttered. “Do you have any idea how much I suffered?”

“…but it was worth it in the end, right?” Jimin retorted teasingly, looking up at him with doe-eyes.

“Hm, I don’t know, why don’t you kiss me so I can be the judge of that?”

Perhaps Yoongi shouldn’t have been so forward, because Jimin took that statement as his cue to pounce on the elder and kiss him breathless. It was messy and a little awkward from the way their bodies were positioned, but Yoongi wouldn’t’ve had it any other way.

He was panting by the time Jimin pulled away. “J-jesus, Jimin. Warn a guy.”

Jimin grinned mischievously at him. “You’re just going to have to get used to it, hyung.”

And so they spent New Year’s together, curtains thrown open so they could watch the beautiful white snow fall outside while they sat together in a dream-like state, cuddling and making out occasionally.

(It was the perfect way to kick off the new year, in Yoongi’s opinion, especially with Jimin insisting on parading around the house in Yoongi’s clothes and making them hot chocolate with mountains of whipped cream and marshmallows piled on top.

“I swear to god, Jimin, if I get early onset diabetes from this—"

“Oh my god, stop being so fucking dramatic. As if you could ever get mad at me.”

It seemed like Jimin had already figured out just how weak and whipped Yoongi was for him, and the elder knew he was already wrapped around Jimin’s finger.

“Can you cuddle me now? I feel lonely~”

Yoongi complied almost immediately, wrapping his arms around Jimin from behind. “Jeez, you’re such a demanding brat, you know.”

“And you know you love it.”

“Yeah, I know.”)