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It was soft. Softer than Jimin imagined it would be.
Yoongi’s hands are on his waist, and there’s this song playing in the background. Something about an elephant parade and two lovers laughing. Outside, the city is alive, the muffled sounds of people celebrating making its way into Yoongi’s apartment.
“You know, you’ve been quiet for a long time now.” Yoongi mumbles into the crook of Jimin’s neck. They’ve been standing like this for the last five minutes, with Yoongi’s hands caressing Jimin’s waist, holding him so gently as if he was afraid Jimin would somehow disappear if he was too rough.
“Ah, I guess I’ve just been thinking about things.” Jimin says.
“Things like what?”
Things that would break Min Yoongi’s heart, Jimin thinks, but he doesn’t say this.
Instead, Jimin guides Yoongi so that they’re swaying to the slow beat of the song, their bodies casting shadows in the dark of the apartment. He can feel Yoongi’s smile on his neck. “Things like us.”
“Are they good thoughts?”
“Some of them are.”
Yoongi snorts. “Well that’s no good. Give me an example.”
“Well, I’m mostly worried about the electricity bill since you insist on dancing every night with the radio on,” This earns him a chuckle from Yoongi. “And the fireworks tonight, I’m worried we're gonna miss them.”
“Is that all?” Yoongi pulls away to look at him, and his eyes are so open and accepting that Jimin simply nods and swallows down the confession bubbling away at his throat.
And so they dance again under the soft glow of the city lights, with the same song drifting in the background. Yoongi’s warm hands are still on his waist and this time they trace constellations on to his skin.
It’s so strange, how much could change in time. Jimin was so focused on dance—lived it, breathed it—that it never even crossed his mind that there was someone like Yoongi out there. But now, here they were, dancing no less, to the strangest song. Here they were, with Yoongi buried in the crook of his neck, looking more vulnerable with Jimin than he ever was with anyone else.
A crack in the air breaks him from his thoughts. There are cheers erupting from either sides of the room, and when Jimin finally turns to look out the window, there they are: cracks of reds and oranges bursting up unto the night sky, exploding in beautiful crescendos and eventually falling unto the city below. Jimin is so distracted by the fireworks that he almost forgets the most important part of the night: getting to kiss Min Yoongi into the New Year. But when Jimin turns to look at him, his heart stops.
There’s Yoongi, bathed in hundreds of sunsets, looking like a dream, looking like every wish Jimin had ever made. And he’s saying something but Jimin can’t quite hear what it is.
“Yoongi, I—” The words catch in his throat.
Yoongi turns away from the fireworks to look at him, eyebrows raised, eyes shining underneath the glow of the fireworks.
“Yoongi, I’m scared.”
Yoongi’s brow furrows, worry suddenly sprinkled all over his iridescent face. “Scared about what?”
The words come tumbling out of him then. “Us. Our future. Our life together.” Jimin sounds so desperate to his own ears but Yoongi is just too beautiful for him to be dishonest.
“I’m worried we won’t make it.”
Yoongi looks incredulous, the very idea is foreign to him. “What—of course we’ll make it, I don’t understand—”
“Because I don’t think I can survive that. I know I can’t survive that.” Jimin says, barreling over him. The words coming even faster now. “I can barely even remember what life was like without you, and I don’t want to imagine an after.”
“What are you talking about? We aren’t going to have an after—”
“You don’t know that!” Jimin accuses. Yoongi reaches over to him then and places a hand on his cheek, brushing away at phantom tears. Jimin can barely feel the brush of Yoongi’s fingertips on his skin.
“You don’t know that,” Jimin repeats, softer this time, already folding into Yoongi’s touch.
“Jimin,” Yoongi says, voice barely above a whisper. “Jimin, what’s wrong?”
Jimin melts at that. ‘Til now he wonders how Yoongi can have such an effect on him. All it takes is a whisper and Jimin is putty in Yoongi’s hands. All it takes is a whisper and suddenly Jimin is breaking open his own chest for him, spilling out every secret and every hurt for Yoongi to see.
“I heard back from the university. They’re offering me a full scholarship."
The song that was slowly wrapping itself around their bodies ends. A new song plays but the melody is all wrong.
“I’m sorry.” Jimin says at once. “That’s what’s wrong. I-I’m sorry.” Jimin repeats, but he doesn’t really know what he’s sorry for.
“That’s—that’s the one in Seoul, right?” Yoongi finally says, face unreadable above him. “It’s great. That’s great. Wow, I’m so happy for you.”
“It’s half a world away.”
“Yeah.” Yoongi winces. “Right. Half, half a world away. Yeah.”
Yoongi pulls away to sit at the sofa, eyes clouded over. Outside, the fireworks have stopped, leaving the room dull from its absence.
“I’m sorry,” Jimin says again, going over to interlace their fingers. Yoongi doesn’t pull away.
“Don’t be. I’m just—when did you know?”
“Last week.”
“Oh.” Yoongi’s face is stone cold. “When—”
“February.” Jimin says softly, already knowing what he was going to say. “I leave in February.”
The silence between them is palpable.
Yoongi rubs his hand down his face, “So we’ve got like, what? 3 weeks left together?”
Jimin couldn’t bring himself to reply, only half nods as he stares at their still intertwined hands.
“Fuck,” Yoongi says, “I just thought it wasn’t real, you know? When you told me back then. All this time I thought you’d go to college here. I thought--”
Yoongi stops abruptly, voice going unexpectedly soft. “I just thought we’d finally have a life together here. I thought we could finally be together, you know?”
"Yoongi, I'm not turning down that scholarship," Jimin says.
"And I'm not asking you to! I just." Yoongi lets go of Jimin to bury his face in his hands. "Seoul is so fucking far away. And the time zone's all fucked up. That's four fucking years. Four fucking years of being apart. Four years of missing you—"
"Exactly, we'll drift apart. We'll both be busy with school and. . . and eventually you'll forget me—"
"Forget you?" Yoongi's head whips up so fast that Jimin worries he may have snapped something. "No. That's not—I'm not—"
"It's different this time. It's like you said, the time zone's gonna be all fucked up." Jimin's voice is cracking at the edges. "We'll have different priorities, we'll have new people in our lives. I don't want to hold you back."
"Hold me back? From what?" Yoongi says, sounding almost angry that Jimin would even suggest such a thing. "Is that what you were afraid of? Yeah, the 'half a world away' thing's a lot to take in, but that doesn't suddenly mean we're going to have an after. It doesn't mean we're going to—to end."
If Jimin wasn't crying earlier he sure was now. "You know it won't work. So many things can happen. I just want to spare us the explosive break up when the long-distance fails. I just want to leave us the way we are now, I don't want to ruin us any further."
"Jimin, honey," Yoongi cups Jimin's face in his palms. Jimin can barely see Yoongi through his tears, but Yoongi feels so steadfast, so warm that he leans right into his touch without even realizing it. "We'll make this work. You’re the one thing I'm sure of in this life. We'll make this work."
"Yoongi, I'm just so scared." Jimin whispers.
"I know. I am, too." Yoongi whispers back, and Jimin only notices now that he's crying as well. "I am, too." He repeats, voice faltering slightly.
Jimin begins to speak but no words come out. They don't seem right. The words are lost outside on the busy New Year street, mixed in with the firework ash. So instead he folds himself into Yoongi's arms. It feels better this way—it feels soft. Jimin vaguely remembers what happens next. He isn't sure If it was Yoongi who pulls him up or if Jimin had found the words to tell Yoongi to come to bed but despite all the uncertainties in the world, he at least knows this: He'll always be safe here.