Work Text:
On the day Min Yoongi takes Park Jimin on their very first date
ever
—the first of many, Jimin hopes—the air is abuzz with the crisp, coolness of a brand new fall. The bright greens and yellows of summer have softened into warm ambers, blurring the sharp, vivid edges of afternoons by the pool and cross-country road trips into the coziness of evenings by the fireside and knitted turtleneck sweaters.
But for Jimin, whose worldview has shifted drastically in the last week or so, everything about the day is colored in deep reds and heart-fluttering pinks. He’ll remember his first date with Min Yoongi as one tinged in shades of rose, carmine, coral and surrounded by the warm embrace of nostalgia.
⊱ ꕥ ⊰
“Me or you?”
Yoongi’s voice is deep and rough but impossibly sweet as he addresses Jimin, gently tugging on their intertwined fingers to bring him closer to his side. He pulls his hand away, only to wind it around Jimin’s waist instead, in the intimate and familiar way of lovers (lovers!), like he can’t stand even an inch of space between them. It causes a wisp of heavy but comfortable heat to seep through Jimin’s denim jacket from where he touches him, swathing itself over his skin like a blanket and curling up to wrap around his heart.
Jimin’s cheeks flare, of course they do, and he offers Yoongi a coy smile. “You.”
Yoongi grins, all gummy and brilliant and handsome, and tweaks him under the chin with his free hand before turning to look out at all the sights and sounds surrounding them. His profile, at once strong and soft, stands out in sharp relief against a backdrop of vibrant colors, his dark hair framed by the halo of lights on the giant ferris wheel at the far end of the fairgrounds. It’s all Jimin can do not to turn into a puddle of goo right then and there. He’s particularly fond of Yoongi’s smile and the way it opens up his whole expression like the worn spine of an oft-read book. After years of pining over that smile, it’s now his to gaze upon freely and Jimin thinks that that is absolutely wondrous.
“Okay, me, then.” Yoongi turns back to him and leans in, nuzzling his nose against Jimin’s cheek before releasing him to turn toward the giant wall of balloons before them. He exchanges cash for darts with the tall, dimpled, purple-haired vendor then squares his shoulders and takes aim.
They’d been at the fair for just a few minutes before Yoongi had spotted the lonely-looking booth and dragged Jimin over to try their luck at the balloon darts. Jimin doesn’t mind. He does have one goal for the evening, but they’ll have plenty of time to get around to that later.
From his comfy position on Cloud 9 looking around at the current state of affairs, Jimin meets the vendor’s eye and smiles politely. The man’s gaze is genial but all-knowing—he seems to see straight through Jimin’s efforts to look nonchalant. It makes Jimin wonder whether his infatuation is really so apparent, whether it’s written all over his face like a tattoo, whether Yoongi, too, can see just how
much
Jimin feels for him.
With the ferris wheel looming over them in the background, Jimin shifts his focus back onto his date, watching diligently as Yoongi lines himself up to pop some balloons.
“Good luck,” Jimin murmurs, grasping at the hem of Yoongi’s jacket and trying to ignore the heat in his cheeks.
Pop!
Pop!
Pop!
⊱ ꕥ ⊰
“Can we go on the ferris wheel, hyung?”
Hand-in-hand with Yoongi and a giant baby chick plushie hugged tightly to his chest, Jimin waddles along between the game booths as Yoongi leads him to their next destination.
“Don’t you want some food first, Jimin-ah?” Yoongi glances back at him, brow quirked up. “Churros? Hot chocolate?”
And, as if on cue, Jimin’s traitorous stomach lets out an almighty rumble. He pouts down at it, giving in to the hunger pangs and allowing Yoongi to pull him over to the food stalls.
The night is clear and cool for the city’s fall festival. An ever-present chill in the air has everyone bundled up in jackets and scarves and sticking close to each other to conserve body heat. It’s really just an excuse to flirt, but Jimin takes the bait, shuffling closer to Yoongi as they stand in line for food. He’s rewarded for his efforts when Yoongi winds an arm around his waist once again. The flat of his palm slips beneath Jimin’s denim jacket, settles against the thin fabric of his t-shirt like it was always meant to be there. A pleasant dollop of warmth drops into Jimin’s belly.
“Hyung texted you yet?” Yoongi asks as he idly runs his hand up and down Jimin’s side.
Jimin rolls his eyes. “Don’t know. I haven’t checked my phone.”
Yoongi’s answering smirk is dangerous and turns that dollop of warmth into a spark of electricity—one that flickers and teases, lighting all of Jimin’s nerve-endings on fire.
“Good,” Yoongi says, low and dark. “Don’t.”
“He’s going to have your ass on a platter,” Jimin tells him, not for the first time. “And then where will I be, hyung?”
Yoongi’s smirk loses its bite and turns into something a little more fond and mischievous. “Aw, is my baby worried about me?”
And maybe
that’s
the thing that finally makes Jimin’s brain short circuit. He’s not the type to get flustered easily—he’s usually the one
doing
the flustering, after all—but Yoongi has a unique way of catching him completely off-guard.
He sputters, “Y-Your—You—”
Yoongi huffs out a laugh, reaching up to squeeze Jimin’s cheeks with his free hand. It’s not the first time he’s said it—
my baby
—but Jimin’s no less frazzled for hearing it again.
“God, you’re so fucking cute. What the hell was I thinking all these years?” Yoongi sighs and shakes his head, as though he’s immensely disappointed in himself. “Blind as a fucking bat.”
Jimin’s cheeks blossom with heat under Yoongi’s gaze and Yoongi’s touch. He squirms away after only a moment, when the attention gets to be too much.
“Hyung,” he whines, hiding his face against Yoongi’s shoulder. “Stop teasing.”
Yoongi’s free hand finds a place against the nape of Jimin’s neck. The way his fingers thread through the short hair there causes a shiver to race up Jimin’s spine. Yoongi—a certified, professional Jimin Whisperer
TM
—knows precisely which buttons to press to get a rise out of him.
“Alright, alright,” he says close to Jimin’s ear. His breath is warm, his lips soft. “Doesn’t change the fact that you’re cute, though.”
⊱ ꕥ ⊰
Somehow, after they’re done eating, Yoongi manages to talk Jimin out of going on the ferris wheel in favor of visiting the haunted house, instead.
Jimin blames the churros for distracting him.
They’ve created a nice little food baby in his belly so when Yoongi argues, “The ferris wheel might make us nauseous, don’t you think?” it all seems pretty logical to Jimin.
In any case, the haunted house is just another excuse to stick close to each other and hold hands, so Jimin can’t really complain. Even if he has to hold Yoongi back when he tries to fight a couple of the fake zombies. And
even
if he has to pretend Yoongi
isn’t
the one screaming the whole way through.
⊱ ꕥ ⊰
They manage to survive the haunted house—just barely; Jimin has to beg the employees not to kick them out when Yoongi tries to throw hands—and then find themselves outside amidst the crowd once more.
“Ferris wheel?” Jimin tries, giving Yoongi a sidelong glance.
His date is still frowning from the haunted house experience, which makes Jimin pout.
“Hyung?”
It’s grown a little cooler since they went into the spook house, and even though the crowds have thickened, Jimin begins to shiver. It’s not ideal, especially when he’s trying to make a pitch for the enormous open air ferris wheel, but it gives him a reason to huddle in against Yoongi, whose expression remains somewhat dark.
“Yoongi hyung?”
Jimin’s voice suddenly right beside him seems to startle Yoongi back to life. He automatically settles an arm over Jimin’s shoulder as his cheeks bloom an endearing dusty rose.
“Sorry, baby. What were you saying?” he asks.
“It’s okay,” Jimin assures him, reaching up to thread his fingers through Yoongi’s. “Ferris wheel next?”
And this time, Jimin spies a glint of something suspicious in Yoongi’s eyes as he replies, “Might be a little cold for that right now, don’t you think?”
Well. It’s not an entirely unexpected response, but the
way
Yoongi says it, with a slight waver in his voice and like he’s hedging on purpose, makes Jimin tilt his head.
“Not if we cuddle,” he points out, relishing in the way heat blooms across Yoongi’s smooth, pale cheeks at these words. He untangles their fingers to reach across Yoongi’s front and pulls him into a side hug. “Don’t you wanna cuddle with me, hyung?”
Jimin knows he holds at least
some
power over Yoongi. He flutters his eyelashes, pushes his plush lips out into a pout, and it’s only a moment before Yoongi sighs and buries his fingers back into the hair at Jimin’s nape in a placating gesture.
“Of course I do, Min,” Yoongi says. He glances over Jimin’s head—probably at the looming ferris wheel in the distance—before a crease appears between his eyebrows. His eyes have drops of remorse in them as he continues, “I really am just kinda cold. Maybe we can try a bit later if the wind calms down?”
It’s disappointment, sharp and biting, that slithers its way into Jimin’s chest now. He tries his best not to let it show, but Yoongi, as the Jimin Whisperer
TM
, doesn’t miss a beat.
“Okay,” he says.
“Jimin-ah—”
Jimin doesn’t like the way a pout—as cute as it is—scrunches up Yoongi’s expression. The last thing he wants is to make this date a bad experience for either of them. He’s already made plans for their next outing, so he needs Yoongi to actually
want
to go out with him again.
“Oh! Bumper cars! Let’s go, let’s go!” he says, tugging at Yoongi’s hand to pull him in the direction of the bumper cars. “You better be ready to get your ass handed to you, hyung. I’m not gonna take it easy on you just ’cause you’re cute.”
⊱ ꕥ ⊰
They ride the carousel after the bumper cars—Yoongi even finds a spot on a pretty pink unicorn for their new baby chick plushie child—but Jimin’s heart just isn’t in it.
It’s apparent by now that Yoongi’s hiding something as he seems to freeze up each time Jimin mentions getting on the ferris wheel.
And Jimin’s torn.
Because he has a plan.
But that plan doesn’t involve making Yoongi miserable.
⊱ ꕥ ⊰
Jimin adds to their little adoptive family by winning a goldfish at the ring toss. It’s a tiny thing, but pretty, with a wispy tail that looks like a cancan skirt and translucent, shimmery fins that seem to sparkle under the bright lights of the carnival.
As he peers at his new child swimming around in its little fish bowl, Jimin does some thinking.
And then he does a little more.
He doesn’t find any answers, but as his gaze lands on Yoongi from over the glass bowl, the highs of his cheeks tinged pink like rose petals, his forehead cutely creased in concentration as he aims a water gun at a duck-shaped target, Jimin thinks maybe he doesn’t mind so much.
⊱ ꕥ ⊰
But then, the night ends without Jimin’s plan ever coming to fruition and he starts to mind a little bit.
In somewhat of a daze, he allows Yoongi to lead him back towards the entrance of the carnival. Their chickie child swings between them while Yoongi has their goldfish child carefully clutched to his chest. They’re both quieter than they’ve been all night.
Jimin takes one long, forlorn look back at the giant ferris wheel across the fairgrounds—at its bright lights and multicolored cars, at the way it seems to watch over the rest of the attractions like a guardian angel—and his heart sinks.
They walk out of the carnival, still silent, but Jimin’s mind has gone into hyperdrive as he tries to figure out how things turned out like this.
Then—
The chaos running amok inside his brain stutters to a grinding halt and a singular, horrible thought takes center stage.
Maybe Yoongi knew what Jimin was planning the whole time. Maybe this is his way of rejecting him. After all, everyone knows why couples ride the ferris wheel at a carnival.
Fuck.
The awful thought causes a fault line to manifest in Jimin’s heart, cracks it right down the middle and fills the space with dread that oozes out into Jimin’s chest like black tar.
“Baby, what are you thinking about?” Yoongi asks softly.
His voice startles Jimin so terribly that he loses his grip on the baby chick plush and its right wing lands in the dewy grass of the carnival’s makeshift parking lot.
Yoongi stops and turns to look at what’s happened. He quickly readjusts his own hold on the plushie, pulling it out of the wet grass and hugging it to his chest right next to the fish bowl. It would be cute if Jimin wasn’t so filled up with bad feelings right now.
“Poor thing,” Yoongi mutters.
He fidgets with the plush for a moment, making sure its wing is free of mud and dirt, before lifting his gaze up to meet Jimin’s. The rampage of black tar overflowing out of Jimin’s heart falters under Yoongi’s attention.
Looking at him now, away from the lights of the carnival, and with fragmented blue moonlight creating spiderwebs of shadows over his beautiful, pale face, Jimin second-guesses himself once more. Yoongi’s expression is as open and honest and soft around the edges with affection as it always is when he looks at Jimin. Maybe Jimin got it all wrong.
A sudden, tiny bloom of warmth sprouts in his belly, counteracting the cold, black dread that has begun to seep into his bones.
“Min? Are you okay?” Yoongi asks.
Instead of answering his question, Jimin poses one of his own. “Why… Why didn’t you take me on the ferris wheel, hyung?”
Yoongi’s eyes widen minutely and the grip he has on their prizes seems to tighten. “I—”
“If you didn’t want to kiss me, you could have just said so,” Jimin continues, dragging a restless hand through his hair. He pulls his jacket tighter around him, curves his shoulders inward to make himself smaller as he says, “I know it’s our first date and all, but we’ve kind of been dancing around this for a while, haven’t we? I—I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal.”
“W-What?”
Jimin bites down on his bottom lip and his gaze falls to the dark, wet grass at Yoongi’s feet. “I just wanted kisses, but I think I made you uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”
Silence bears down on them for a moment that seems to stretch on forever.
Then, he hears a sigh, and Yoongi’s suddenly moving past him towards the car parked closest to them in the empty lot. In his haze, Jimin hadn’t even realized they’d stopped right next to Yoongi’s car. Yoongi opens the back door and carefully places the goldfish bowl and chickie plush on the back seat before turning to look at Jimin once more. His expression reflects exasperation, of all things.
“Who says I don’t want to kiss you?” he asks, shutting the door and stepping back through the grass toward Jimin. He stops less than a foot away. “What in the world gave you that idea?”
Jimin sinks his teeth back into his bottom lip as the words catch in his throat. It sounds almost silly now, the idea of ferris wheel kisses.
Yoongi reaches up to tuck a stray lock of dark hair behind Jimin’s ear and the small blossom of warmth that has taken root in Jimin’s tummy grows slightly bigger. Relief overtakes him and the dread all but evaporates.
“The reason why I didn’t want to ride the ferris wheel, Jimin-ah, is not because I don’t want to kiss you,” Yoongi murmurs, leaning a bit closer, til Jimin can feel his breath against his cheek. “It’s because I’m afraid of heights.”
Wait what?
Jimin’s gaze flies up to meet Yoongi’s and he finds his hyung grinning sheepishly at him.
“A-Afraid of heights? Really?”
Yoongi nods, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck with his free hand. “Seokjin hyung teases me about it all the time. I can’t even climb ladders,” he admits.
Jimin gapes at him, a little dumbfounded and a little in awe, as warmth bursts across Yoongi’s cheeks, coloring his pale face in shades of muted pink that blend with the blueness of the moonlight shining down on them.
“Wow,” Jimin breathes.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t take you on the ferris wheel, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi goes on. The fingers that are still buried in Jimin’s hair pull back and flutter over the fullest part of his cheek instead, leaving more blooms of warmth in their wake. Yoongi studies his expression carefully as he says, “So, don’t think it’s because I don’t want to kiss you. I’ve wanted to kiss you for months.”
Jimin sucks in a deep breath, leaning into Yoongi’s fleeting touch, causing the flat of his palm to rest against Jimin’s jawline.
“You can still make up for it now, hyung,” he murmurs.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
The distant sounds of carnival games and screaming children melt away and for that moment, it’s just Jimin and Yoongi. It’s just Yoongi’s arm around Jimin’s waist. Just Yoongi’s chest pressed against Jimin’s chest. It’s just the way Jimin melts into Yoongi’s arms. Just the way they fall into each other like this was always meant to happen. And then—
Yoongi kisses him.
An explosion of rose-colored heat blooms outward from where their lips are connected, unfurling like the petals of a flower in the prime of spring. Yoongi is soft and intense and gentle and firm all at once and Jimin thinks he might just burst into flames if this goes on too long.
At some point they shift backward, stumbling until Jimin’s back meets the cool metal of Yoongi’s car. The intensity ramps up tenfold as Yoongi’s hands find Jimin’s hips, as his tongue finds Jimin’s tongue.
They kiss and kiss until their lips are bruised and their hearts are hammering.
And finally, it dawns on Jimin—he didn’t need to be on a ferris wheel to get a perfect kiss with Yoongi.
⊱ ꕥ ⊰
Jimin pulls back, only far enough that his lips still flutter over Yoongi’s as he speaks.
“I thought you were rejecting me,” he says.
“Because I didn’t want to go on the ferris wheel?” Yoongi asks. He tilts forward to press their lips together a little more firmly, before dragging his mouth across Jimin’s jaw and down over his throat.
“Yeah.”
“You know your hyung would have my ass if I dumped you, right?” Yoongi says, nipping at a spot just below Jimin’s chin.
“Jinnie hyung is going to have your ass regardless.” Jimin bites down on his bottom lip to stifle a moan. The car is cool against his back, but even that does little to keep the fire of Yoongi’s touch from blazing across his skin. He reaches up to thread his fingers through Yoongi’s dark hair, but can’t decide if he wants to push him closer or pull him away. “So, that’s a pretty flimsy reason.”
Yoongi huffs out a laugh against Jimin’s throat. “What do I need to do to convince you that this is not a rejection?”
Jimin hums, as if in thought, before pulling Yoongi’s face back up to his. “More kisses might help.”
Yoongi leans in, happy to oblige, just as Jimin’s pocket begins to vibrate. He freezes.
“It’s like he
knew
we were talking about him,” Jimin groans, pulling his phone out to check the caller ID. Of course it’s Seokjin.
“Do you have to answer?” Yoongi asks.
“I mean, yeah. Probably. At some point.”
They both know Seokjin will just keep calling if they don’t indulge him.
“Can I have a few more kisses first?” Yoongi asks.
Jimin raises a brow. “Okay…”
Yoongi pecks him on the lips.
“To help me remember why,” he explains, kissing Jimin again, “why I’m letting him chew me out,” again, “when he inevitably asks to talk to me,” another kiss, “and you can’t refuse.”
Jimin smacks him on the shoulder.
“Thanks for having faith in me not to sacrifice you to my hyung,” he gripes, rolling his eyes.
Yoongi kisses him again, deeper this time, and it leaves Jimin momentarily breathless. He blinks, trying to clear the haze out of his mind.
“Baby, let’s not pretend that, given the choice between me and Seokjin hyung, you’d ever pick me.”
Jimin pouts. “I might.”
“Yeah?” Yoongi raises a brow.
“No probably not,” Jimin admits.
Yoongi nods, resigned. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. C’mere.”
Jimin allows himself to be pulled in by his belt loops, winding his arms around Yoongi’s neck as Yoongi settles his palms against Jimin’s hips.
They lean in, just sharing space for a moment, before closing the distance and finding each other’s lips once more.
This time their kiss is punctuated by a real explosion of colors as the sky fills up with fireworks from the carnival. Jimin pulls back long enough to see pinwheels and stars burst open in the night sky, framing the giant ferris wheel in the distance with a crown of fiery reds and pinks and oranges.
It’s a celebration to mark the end of summer, but as Jimin finds Yoongi’s lips again, he knows he’ll remember this night for different reasons altogether.
fin