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Jimin struggles to pull his last suitcase out of the trunk of the cab, almost buckling under the weight of it as he slips in a puddle.
The rain has plastered his blonde hair to his head, his white t-shirt sticking to him like a second skin, and he curses loudly as another loud crack of thunder breaks the silence.
The cab driver taps the steering wheel impatiently and Jimin doesn't hide his contempt as he reaches into the back pocket of his jeans for his wallet.
"Thanks for the help," he growls, throwing the money through the open window. "I added a tip, try buying yourself some manners."
The driver fists the notes in his hand as he gives the young man a mock salute before gunning the engine, back wheel stalling in a large puddle and spraying dirty water and bits of mud over Jimin as he speeds off.
"Oh, come on," Jimin exclaims, turning his face up to the sky and closing his eyes.
Could this day get any worse?
This was definitely not the start to college he'd expected.
The outside of the campus is deserted, people who'd actually arrived on time now bunkered down in their cosy dorms, nice and warm and dry.
Hoisting his heavy backpack onto one shoulder, he tucks his now soaked pillow beneath one arm and grabs the handles of all three of his suitcases. making the slow, painful process up the stairs, one single step at a time.
He can't stop the scream that escapes his mouth when another loud crack of thunder pierces the air, slipping on the stairs and dropping the handles on his suitcases, watching in horror as they tumble back down to the road.
"Need a hand?" a deep voice asks, and Jimin glances up in surprise as a tall, dark haired man reaches a hand down to help him up.
"Thanks," Jimin mumbles, brushing his wet hair back with one hand as he reaches out with the other, grabbing the man's hand as he's helped to his feet, brushing the excess water from his jeans before turning to his rescuer.
"I'm Taehyung," the tall man grins, his smile blindingly bright despite the rain pouring in his eyes.
"Jimin," he answers, turning toward his suitcases with a groan.
"Oh," Taehyung springs into action, bounding down the stairs with no thought for his own safety. "Here," he grabs one of the suitcases. "Let me help you. What dorm are you in?"
"26A," Jimin answers, and if it were even possible, Taehyung's smile grew even wider.
"No shit?" he laughs. "That's my best friend's dorm, I guess you're his new roommate. Funny, I thought he had a private room, this year. He's nice, but a little quiet. Don't let his bad boy attitude fool you, he's just a big teddy bear at heart. Oh, but don't tell him I told you that. Gosh, he'd kill me if he knew I'd said that..."
Jimin tunes Taehyung's voice out as they climb the stairs and enter a quiet hall, their footsteps echoing along the polished wood floors as Taehyung leads him to an elevator.
"So, what's your major?" he asks as the elevator slides up silently.
"Contemporary dance," Jimin answers, his teeth starting to chatter from the frigid air conditioning combined with his soaked clothes.
"Nice," Taehyung hums with a little nod. "Mine's design."
"Like architecture?" Jimin wrinkles his nose in confusion, flushing when the taller man chuckles lowly. "More like fashion," he answers as the elevator door slides open and he leads Jimin down a corridor of closed doors. "Ah," he stops outside one in particular, a small plaque attached to the wood that reads 26. "Here we go," he continues, knocking on the door without giving Jimin a chance to object.
Not that he would, to be honest. The only thing he wants to do is dump his suitcases in his new room and take a long, hot shower.
Maybe a nap.
The door swings open and Jimin jumps a little as broad shoulders fill the doorway. "Yeah?" the man mumbles, his voice muffled by the food in his mouth.
"Seokjinie," Taehyung beams, pushing his way into the dorm. "Are we just in time for dinner?"
"Hey," the man objects, but Taehyung already has a chicken drumstick in his mouth. "No one invited you, this is a private party, not a frat party for you and your friends," Jimin glowers under the man's ferocious gaze.
"Oh," Taehyung slaps the side of his own head, as though he's only just remembered why he's there. "I almost forgot. Seokjin, this is Jimin. He's the newbie in room A."
"Really?" Seokjin's eyebrows almost disappear into his bangs. "He's not gonna be happy. He applied for a private room this year."
Taehyung shrugs, and Seokjin turns back to the smaller boy with a sympathetic smile. "Sorry, Jiminie," he throws his arm around the boy's shoulder, grimacing at his wet clothes. "Hey, you're all wet!"
"Way to go, Captain Obvious," another voice calls out and Jimin spins around, his eyes wide.
"Namjoon?"
"Hey, Jimin," his old friend grins. "It's been a while."
His breath hitches when the small blond throws himself into his arms, burying his face in his neck. "It's been too long," Jimin mumbles, face buried in his Namjoon's shirt.
"You look good," Namjoon chuckles, patting his shoulder affectionately as Jimin pulls away, face flushed in embarrassment.
"Sorry," he mumbles, but Namjoon chuckles again.
"Don't be sorry," he grins, dimples flashing against his tanned skin. "I missed you too, kiddo."
"I'm not a kid," Jimin frowns, but can't stop the grin that threatens to escape at Namjoon's wink.
"I'm sorry, do you two want a room?"
Jimin flushes again as he turns back to Seokjin, standing by Taehyung who's standing by the table, a marinated chicken leg halfway to his mouth, lips parted in shock.
"Babe," Namjoon laughs. "Jimin is a... special friend...from high school. Yoongi's special friend, to be exact."
"Oh . . . OH!" Seokjin's eyes widen as he seems to look at Jimin with a new light. "Well, why didn't you say so? Here, are you hungry? You must be starving. Taehyung, put that down and help me fill a plate for Jiminie."
"Actually," Jimin speaks up, making them stop their movements and turn back to him. "I kind of just want to see my new room, maybe have a hot shower," he looks at his wet clothes pointedly, and Seokjin's reaction is immediate.
"Oh," he gasps. "You poor thing, of course. Here, Taehyung, Namjoon, help carry his things into his room. I'll put some hot towels in the bathroom for him. Here, Jimin, you come with me and I'll show you where the bathroom is. You can get warm and changed before dinner."
Jimin follows Seokjin down a long hall and into a large bathroom with a door on either wall. "It's a two way bathroom," Seokjin explains as he takes a towel out of a warmer and hands it to the shivering boy. "Just make sure both sides are locked. We don't want any nasty surprises, right?" he laughs at his own joke. "Anyway, I'll leave you to it, take your time and come on out to the dining room when you're ready."
Jimin breathes a sigh of relief when Seokjin shuts the door behind him, rushing to lock it before quickly stripping out of his wet clothes, dropping them into an empty hamper by the sink.
Stepping into the cubicle, he allows the warm spray of water to seep into his bones, closing his eyes with a soft groan as he washes his hair with a bottle of coconut scented shampoo.
By the time he's done he's barely able to keep his eyes open, struggling to dry his skin before realising with horror he's forgotten to bring a change of clothes to the bathroom.
He eyes his pile of wet clothing in the basket, an almost imperceptible shudder running through him at the idea of putting them back on.
Creeping over to the door, he cracks it open just enough to stick his head around the corner, peering up the deserted hall.
He can hear Seokjin's loud laughter coming from the living room and he licks his lips, tightening the towel around his waist as he pulls open the door fully, stepping out into the hall.
Jimin takes a deep breath as he braces himself, bolting down the hall and back to his room.
The second his door closes he heaves a sigh of relief, leaning his bare back against the cool wood.
"What the fuck?" he hears the low growl before he sees him.
Jimin's eyes snap open, his gaze flying toward the bed to find dark eyes glaring at him.
Eyes that soften almost immediately in surprise as the small man sits up on the edge of the mattress, dragging a tattooed hand through his tousled, silver hair. "Jimin?"
"Yoongi," Jimin exhales heavily, staring at his ex-boyfriend.
***
"No kidding?" Seokjin raises his eyebrows over his mug of coffee. "So, you had no idea you'd be rooming with your ex?"
"Of course not," Jimin snorts, tiny fingers cradling his own mug as he stares down at the murky contents. "I wouldn't be here if I knew."
"He never mentioned you," Seokjin hums, and somehow, that makes Jimin feel even worse.
It'd taken about thirty seconds of awkward silence before Jimin had realised he was standing in front of his first love - practically naked - and a further thirty seconds for Yoongi to stammer out some excuse about watering his fish and bolt from the dorm, leaving Jimin to explain the awkward situation to the others.
Never in a million years did Jimin think he'd see Yoongi again, not after the way the older man had ghosted him after graduation.
"I'll never leave you," he'd promised as he left for college and Jimin, with two years to go until he graduated, had believed Yoongi's words.
Only to be left broken hearted, when Yoongi stopped returning his calls.
"What are you going to do?" Namjoon asks, rubbing Jimin's back in reassuring circles.
"I don't know," Jimin admits, shaking his head. "I guess I can go to admin, have my room changed."
"I hate to agree with you," Namjoon pouts adorably. "I just got you back and you're already leaving again."
"I know," Jimin gives him a soft smile. "But I promise to keep in touch. I'll still be here, just not... here," he emphasises his words as he indicates around the dorm with a wave of his hand.
"I can walk you down there," Taehyung offers. "I have to go that way to my boyfriend's dorm anyway."
"That'd be great," Jimin smiles gratefully. "Thank you, Tae."
***
"I'm sorry, Mr Park, but there's simply nothing we can do. There are no other rooms available."
Jimin groans in frustration, resting his head on his arms as he leans against the tall counter. "Well," he props his chin up with one hand, eyes hopeful. "Can I at least get another bed?" he asks.
"Fill out this form," the receptionist answers shortly, grabbing an A4 sheet of printed paper and handing it to him. "It can take up to a week to be approved, and a further 28 days for your request to be fulfilled."
Jimin stares at her in horror. "A month?" he gasps. "What am I meant to do for a whole month?"
"I'm sorry," the receptionist repeats, and Jimin doesn't think she looks apologetic at all. "Maybe you could get an air mattress?" She suggests with a shrug, Jimin forced away from the counter as a large group of students approach, their voices drowning out his complaints as he's forced backwards.
Jimin drags a hand through his damp hair, allowing his eyes to close just for a moment as he takes a deep breath and forces his mind to slow down.
It's just a month, he tells himself, firmly. You're stronger now, than you ever were in high school. You can do this.
***
"A whole month?" Yoongi practically screeches as Jimin relays the bad news to the rest of the dorm. "What am I supposed to do for a whole month?"
"You could try growing up?" Seokjin snaps, turning back to Jimin who's sitting on the couch, nervously twisting his fingers together in his lap.
Yoongi's mouth snaps shut and his eyes narrow. "I'm going to bed," he announces to no one in particular, and no one stops him as he storms into his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.
Jimin flinches at the sound, but visibly relaxes as soon as the door closes, his shoulders slumping as he buries his face in his hands.
"Hey," Seokjin's hand rubs his back gently. "It's alright, I promise it's not so bad."
"Oh yeah?" Jimin laughs humourlessly as he lifts his head. "I have to share a bed with my ex-boyfriend for the next month. He already hated me before this, he must despise me now."
"Don't think like that," Namjoon frowns, sitting on his other side. "No matter what happens, you've always got us."
"Thanks," Jimin manages a small smile as his old friend cards gentle fingers through his blonde hair.
"Would you be more comfortable on the couch?" Seokjin asks. "We have plenty of spare pillows and blankets."
"No," Jimin shakes his head, perhaps a little too quickly. "No, that's okay," he continues. "I have to get used to it sometime, right?"
***
The door creaks a little when Jimin finally pushes it open. The rest of the dorm is in darkness, Namjoon and Seokjin having gone to bed hours ago, leaving Jimin to watch Netflix on the couch until he could barely keep his eyes open any longer.
Yoongi's frame is outlined as a lump in the centre of the bed, hidden beneath the blankets with only tufts of silver hair peeking out of the top of the covers, illuminated by the full moon shining through the open window as it comes out from behind a cloud.
Jimin sighs softly as he strips down to his boxer shorts and t-shirt, approaching the side of the bed with cautious steps. "Hey," he whispers, stretching out one hand to gently poke the lump with the tip of his index finger. "Hey, Yoongi."
The older man grumbles in his sleep, but shifts slightly to the other side of the bed, as though subconsciously making room for Jimin, who carefully lifts one edge of the blanket and slides in, facing Yoongi's back as he rests his head on the edge of his ex-boyfriend's pillow, his own still drenched from the storm.
Rain falls gently against the window, creating a quiet ambience that lulls Jimin's eyes closed, his lids heavy as he makes himself a little more comfortable on his side of the mattress.
His eyes snap open when Yoongi groans in his sleep, shuffling around until he's facing Jimin, threading their legs together and throwing one arm around the younger man's waist, his breath coming in soft puffs against Jimin's neck.
Jimin is frozen, his eyes wide as he lays perfectly still, unsure of what to do.
Eventually, he gently lifts Yoongi's arm from around his waist, freezing again when Yoongi shifts once more, cuddling closer to him, lips burning Jimin's shoulder through his clothes.
Giving up, Jimin forces himself to relax into the gentle embrace, the sound of the rain lulling him to sleep.
***
"What the fuck are you doing?"
Jimin screams as he's dumped unceremoniously onto the floor, rudely awoken.
Scrambling to his knees, he peers over the edge of the mattress to find Yoongi staring at him, eyes wide, blankets clutched to his chin as though they're some kind of lifeline.
"What the hell?" he asks, voice raspy with sleep. "What's your problem?"
"You," Yoongi snaps, eyes flashing. "You are my problem, Jimin."
"Me?" the younger man asks incredulously, dragging his hand through his hair and wincing when it tangles in a few knots. "What did I do?"
"You were... you were hugging me," Yoongi spits out, his face twisted in revulsion. "Ugh, you're so annoying."
"News flash, Min," Jimin struggles to his feet, face hot with shame. "First, I was asleep. That means I was unaware of anything I was doing. Second, I wouldn't hug you if you were the last man on earth."
"Fine," Yoongi shouts, crossing his arms over his chest. "Get out, then."
"Fine," Jimin yells back, storming out of the room, slamming the door closed behind him.
"Morning," Seokjin chuckles, sitting at the table with a slice of toast and a cup of coffee, textbooks and open notebooks all around him.
"Morning," Jimin sighs, grabbing himself a coffee before taking a seat at the table with the older man. "I'm sorry," he says. "That you had to hear all that," he clarifies, when Jin glances at him in confusion.
"It's fine," Seokjin answers, just as the bedroom door opens and Yoongi walks out. "You," he glares at the silver haired man. "Sit. Now."
Yoongi spares Jimin a hostile look before getting his own coffee and taking a seat on the other side of the table, crossing his arms over his chest. "What?" he asks, voice cold.
"You two need to work your shit out," Seokjin orders. "We all have to live here, and frankly I don't particularly fancy walking on eggshells in my own home. Yoongi, apologise."
"Me?" Yoongi sits up a little straighter, finger at his own chest. "Why should I be the one to apologise? It's not my fault he wanted to get all clingy and shit."
"You hugged me first," Jimin pointed out. "I was just too nice to wake you up and embarrass you."
"Oh," Yoongi scoffs, looking away. "How noble of you, Jimin, always thinking of others."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Jimin demands, but Seokjin holds up his hands.
"Enough," he orders, glancing up as Namjoon steps out of his bedroom, his chest bare, grey sweatpants slung low on his lean hips. Namjoon says nothing, only raises his eyebrows before heading to the kitchen.
"You two need to sort this shit, and quickly," Seokjin continues, glaring at both Yoongi and Jimin, the latter of which at least has the decency to look ashamed.
***
"So," Jimin sits on the edge of the bed, twisting his fingers nervously in his lap as Yoongi drums his own fingers against his desk, neither of them looking at each other.
"So," Jimin tries again, earning himself a loud sigh from the older man, followed by a harsh glare. "What?" Yoongi demands,
"Hey," Jimin feels his pulse racing, anger welling up inside him once more. "You don't get to be angry at me, not after what you did."
"After what I -?" Yoongi sputters, a deep set frown between his brows. "Jimin, what the hell are you talking about?"
"You left me," Jimin shouts, horrified to feel hot tears sliding down his cheeks. "You promised me you'd never leave me, and then you did."
"Jimin," Yoongi frowns. "I never left you."
"Yes," Jimin sobs, burying his face in his hands. "You did. You stopped calling me, you stopped replying to my messages. You completely ghosted me without any warning."
"I lost my phone," Yoongi shouts. "I had your number saved in my phone, and I lost it. Besides, you never came to find me, I thought you didn't care."
"Of course I cared," Jimin cries, still covering his face as his small body is wracked with sobs. "Why didn't you ask Namjoon for my number?"
"He went overseas for a year," Yoongi answers, his voice soft. "We lost contact, just like I lost contact with you. Meeting him again was pure coincidence, just like us being roommates."
"I-I thought you hated me," Jimin sobs.
"Jiminie, no," Yoongi shuffles closer, rolling the chair at his desk to sit in front of Jimin, surprisingly gentle hands pulling Jimin's hands away from his face. "I don't hate you," he whispers, his own eyes glossy with unshed tears. "I could never hate you."
"R-really?" Jimin whispers hopefully, and Yoongi smiles, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind Jimin's ear. "Really," he promises, chuckling when Jimin holds out one tiny pinkie finger with a fierce determination. "Friends?" he asks, eyes shining.
"Friends," Yoongi agrees, stretching out his own pinkie finger, intertwining them together.
***
The next few months pass by in a blur as they settle into their classes. Yoongi and Jimin fall into an amicable friendship, but beneath the surface there's something simmering, something both of them are unwilling to discuss, for fear of ruining the tenuous hold on their friendship.
The time rolls by and, before they know it, Seokjin and Namjoon are welcoming their friends for their annual Christmas Eve party.
"Hoseok," Yoongi calls, hurrying to his best friends side.
Jimin watches from the kitchen, eyes narrowing as he watching Yoongi link his arm with the taller man with the wide, heart shaped smile. They look natural together, like it's easy, and Jimin's hit by a wave of jealousy, as he's finally forced to confront himself, and what he's been fighting against for so long.
He wants Yoongi back.
As though reading his thoughts Yoongi's eyes meet his across the room, his gaze intense as he stares at the small blonde even as Hoseok is speaking to him.
"Jiminie!"
He's roused out of his thoughts by Taehyung's voice, forced to drag his eyes away from Yoongi and Hoseok as he turns to his friend, clinging to his own boyfriend's arm.
"Hey Tae, Jungkookie," he forces a smile. "How are you doing?"
"I'm great," Taehyung slurs, just a little, and Jimin raises an eyebrow as he glances at Jungkook. "Is he drunk?"
"Maybe a little," Jungkook giggles, struggling to hold his boyfriend upright as Taehyung drapes himself over Jungkook's shoulders.
"Are you drunk?" Jimin laughs, and Jungkook flushes.
"Yeah," he admits sheepishly. "We just came to say goodbye, I'm gonna get him home."
"Okay," Jimin agrees. "Want me to call you an Uber?"
"Yeah," Jungkook nods. "We'll wait outside, get some fresh air."
"Sure," Jimin says, already booking a car through the app on his phone.
By the time he pockets his phone and looks up Jungkook and Taehyung are gone, but Yoongi is standing in front of, Hoseok nowhere to be seen.
"Jesus," Jimin holds a hand over his chest with a breathless laugh. "You scared the hell out of me."
"Can we talk?" Yoongi asks, no trace of humour in his voice. "In private?"
***
"What's going on?" Jimin asks, his voice quiet, heart hammering in his chest.
They're alone on the rooftop, the city lights twinkling below them, and Yoongi's quiet.
Too quiet.
"You're scaring me," Jimin admits, wrapping his arms around himself.
"Do you remember when we first met?" Yoongi asks quietly. "You were so quiet and shy, and some kids in your class bullied you for it."
"Until you threatened to hurt them," Jimin giggles at the memory. "You were my hero."
He startles when Yoongi suddenly turns to him, his expression fierce as he takes one of Jimin's hands, his own fingers linking with the younger's. "I miss you," he says, and Jimin swears his heart stops beating, just for a moment.
"Y-Yoongi?" he whispers, as the older man takes a small box out of his back pocket.
"It's not what you think," Yoongi smiles gently, placing the box in Jimin's hand, his smile widening when Jimin makes a small sound in the back of his throat when they're forced to let each other's hand go. "Open it," Yoongi encourages, the tips of his ears bright pink.
Jimin does as he's told, his eyes widening as he lifts out the delicate silver chain, peering at the tiny infinity pendant.
"That necklace symbolises how much I loved you," Yoongi whispers. "How much I still love you."
Jimin's eyes fly up to catch Yoongi's, his lips parting soundlessly in shock. "Yoongi," his throat is tight, his heart racing as Yoongi carefully takes the necklace from his hands, stepping behind him to secure it around his throat, fingers lingering a little longer than necessary against his bare skin.
Jimin turns in his arms, his eyes glistening, even in the dark. "Yoongi," he repeats, his voice soft as his small hand catches Yoongi's cheek, cupping it tenderly before leaning in, his lips parting ever so slightly as he presses a soft kiss to his (ex?) boyfriend's lips.
Yoongi exhales shakily, pressing closer to deepen the kiss, his hand sliding into Jimin's hair to hold him in place as he licks into his mouth, his lips trembling with barely repressed emotion.
But eventually they have to part for air, Jimin's smile wide and contagious as the bells ring out across the small city, signalling midnight, and the start of Christmas Day.
"Merry Christmas, Yoongi," he whispers.
"Merry Christmas, Jimin," Yoongi answers, pressing their lips together once more.