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Every footstep that echoed through the room sounded too loud in the near silence.
Jimin was painfully aware of just how out of place he was here and the stares from some of the more openly snobbish people around him was not helping to ease his discomfort. When he had been told that they were going to go out today, he had assumed that they would be doing the same sort of things that they usually did: trips to the park, lunch at their favorite café on the edge of the town, or going to hang out with their friends. Not suspecting anything out of the norm, he had dressed just as he did nearly every day: a black snapback on top of his light brown hair, a white tank top that he specifically wore for the purpose of showing off his arms, and tight, black jeans that were ripped at the knees. If he had known that his boyfriend was going to drag him to an art museum, then he might have dressed a little…classier. In something like a turtleneck. He was sure Taehyung would have loaned him one if he had asked.
The middle-aged men and women around him didn’t hide their displeasure with the young male. Well, at least the ones that were apparently too busy wondering why on Earth this potentially dangerous boy was in an art museum to actually pay attention to the art.
Jimin shifted uncomfortably and cringed when the wooden floors squeaked beneath his sneakered feet. Several times he had considered asking to leave, but each time he worked himself up to it, he saw the look on Yoongi’s face and he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The older, blond male was closely observing a painting of lilies on a pond, the artist of which Jimin barely remembered from a class in high school. There was a slight smile on his lips and a look of wonder, of pure happiness, in his eyes. That was what stopped Jimin from voicing his concerns. How could he take this away from Yoongi?
Jimin, however, didn’t understand the appeal of looking at art. Sure, at first it was cool – there was no way that he would be able to paint anything like that – but after you had seen the first few pictures of mountains or fruits, you had seen them all. He had never really been into the arts to begin with. It was only after he had seen Yoongi on the set of one of his photography jobs that he had even understood the appeal of it. To Jimin, photographs had only been a way of remembering things, but when he watched Yoongi work, there was a spark in the older’s eyes that Jimin had never seen before. He could only describe it as passion, the sort of passion that differed from the times he and Yoongi spent locked up in their room. This was something pure and unadulterated.
Jimin wished that he could understand how Yoongi felt, but when he described it to him later, the whole idea was still beyond him.
“It…it is like pouring a part of your soul into what you are doing and showing a little bit of yourself, and your unique view, to the world,” Yoongi had said when he had tried to explain. “When I take photographs, I know that I am seeing something just a little bit differently than everyone around me and I want to capture both the object and what it means to me, what it makes me feel, so that I can share that with others. Where others might see a run-down playground, I see ghosts of a childhood long gone and a sense of nostalgia tinged with the pain of loss: loss of youthfulness, loss of childhood ignorance, loss of the freedoms of a younger age.”
Yoongi had been so passionate in his speech, but no matter how hard he tried to explain what he was feeling, Jimin just didn’t get it. He could understand losing yourself in something you love, he felt that way when he danced or sang, but this was different.
Jimin sighed when an older woman walked by and actually scoffed at him.
The sound made Yoongi turn around. He looked at his boyfriend first with confusion and then with a sad sort of understanding. “You really don’t want to be here, do you?” He didn’t sound mad, just a little sad and a little disappointed which made Jimin feel even worse.
“N-no,” he stuttered, shaking his head with wide eyes. “It’s not that. I am just….really out of my element here. You know that I don’t really get the whole art thing,” he looked down at his feet, “and I guess it shows.” He had whispered so quietly that Yoongi had to strain to hear him.
That was when the older got an idea. He pulled the museum map from the pocket of his suit jacket. His eyes trailed over the different rooms, all color-coded according to the era and region from which the art originated. When he found what he was looking for, he grinned widely, grabbed Jimin’s hand, and sped away, completely oblivious to the strange looks that the other patrons gave them.
He dragged a bewildered Jimin through several hallways and up a flight of stairs before he stopped in front of a wall of paintings with a large smile on his face. “Here,” he said, turning to look at Jimin who just stared back with wide eyes.
"What the hell was that about?” Jimin hissed quietly as he looked at the various people in the room who were already eyeing them suspiciously. He hadn’t even bothered to look at the art in front of him yet, embarrassment tinted his cheeks pink.
Yoongi rolled his eyes fondly and grabbed the younger’s shoulders to turn him, encouraging him to look at the art. “Look at these,” he coaxed.
Jimin wasn’t sure why Yoongi was bothering. They both knew that it was pointless. Why would these paintings be any different than any others? He glanced over them briefly and looked at Yoongi again. “They’re ballerinas.”
Yoongi was starting to lose his patience with his boyfriend at this point. “No, look at them. I mean really look at them.” He dragged Jimin closer to the paintings and held him there, one hand on his shoulder and the other pointing at the paintings. “Look at their faces, the expressions on them. Look at the way they are moving their bodies. Can you tell what they are doing?” He turned to Jimin expectantly.
“They’re-” he hesitated and looked at the paintings more carefully. “This one is stretching,” he said, motioning to the one directly in front of them, "and this one is dancing.” He motioned to the one on their left.
“Good. How do you know?”
“Well, the one here is using the bar for balance and stretching this leg,” he looked at the next painting and continued. “This one is mid-spin. She has her leg tucked in to help her gain speed and maintain balance. She’d probably kick it out afterward to redirect her momentum into a leap."
“What are they feeling?”
Jimin looked at Yoongi incredulously. The stern look on Yoongi’s face stopped him from complaining, though. He sighed and looked at the paintings again, moving a little closer to observe the features on their dainty faces. He started with the dancer who was stretching. “She looks…relaxed, peaceful, but also kind of determined?” He looked back at Yoongi who nodded enthusiastically. The encouragement lead him to move to the next painting. “This one looks sad. Maybe she’s dancing to forget something?” A sad sort of smile spread across his lips as he looked at the ballerina. His expression turned to surprise when he felt a hand slide around his waist. When he spun to face his boyfriend, Yoongi was grinning from ear to ear. “Did that sound weird?” He asked, his eyes falling to the floor. It wasn’t until he felt the second arm wrap around his waist that he looked up. A blush spread across his cheeks when he realized just how close the blond was to him, this kind of public affection unfamiliar to them.
“No, that was perfect. What made you think that?” The older asked gently.
With rose tinted cheeks, Jimin looked down. “It might seem a bit silly, but I know what she is going through…I guess?” When Yoongi hummed, he continued. “When I’m upset, sad, or angry, I dance. It helps me to clear my mind, like I can pour everything that I’m feeling into the dance and it’s like all of my problems dissolve, at least for a little while.” The arms around him tightened and he looked up into Yoongi’s soft expression.
“That is why I brought you to these paintings,” he said as he pulled away from Jimin to look at the art, though he kept their fingers interlaced.
“What?” Jimin asked, obviously taken aback.
“I know that it was hard for you to understand what I meant about art, but dancing is a sort of art. You can really see that in these paintings and the way the artist captured not only the actions of the dancers, but the feelings that he wanted us to get from them and from the painting as a whole. We could probably stand here all day and not see everything that the artist wanted us to see, but it is a start. I had hoped that you would be able to understand these paintings because you can understand the dancers.” Yoongi looked at him with a soft smile. “You know how important art is to me.”
Jimin nodded. He was well aware of Yoongi’s love of art. He saw it in the way Yoongi took pictures and even in the things that he blogged about. Never before had he thought of his dancing as art, though. Not like this at least. It always seemed as though the arts were related to concrete objects, but now that Yoongi said it, he could understand what he meant about feeling the emotions. That was why people considered ballet and theatre to be arts, because they told stories and made people feel things. They were combinations of the abstract and the concrete.
“I wanted to share this with you. I wanted to share the most important thing to me,” he motioned around them, “with the most important person to me," he finished as he cupped Jimin’s face with his free hand.
The younger blushed, but a shy smile spread across his lips. He saw Yoongi start to lean and met him halfway, their lips connecting softly, barely brushing against each other.
Yoongi was the first to break the kiss as he stared into his boyfriend’s eyes with so much love that Jimin was no longer aware of the people around him or their rude stares. In that moment, there was nothing but him and Yoongi.
A few hours later, Jimin and Yoongi found themselves sitting in the large park outside of the museum on a bench that was nestled in between two abstract sculptures. They weren’t there to observe the art this time. Rather, they were just enjoying the feeling of being together in a familiar embrace. The weather was nice, though the wind made it slightly nippy - not that either of them were going to complain. The cold gave them an excuse to sit closer together, bodies pressed against each other innocently.
“Thank you for bringing me here.” Jimin finally said, nuzzling his face into Yoongi’s chest. He could feel and hear the older’s chuckle.
“I thought you weren't having fun,” he mused, pressing his lips lightly to the younger’s head.
“I wasn’t at first,” Jimin confessed, his thumb tracing patterns on the back of Yoongi’s hand. “But when you explained the dancer paintings to me, I was happy. I may not like looking at art as much as you do, but I am glad that I can understand you better.”
“That’s good.” Yoongi hummed, placing another kiss on the brown hair below his chin. “I would want the person that I want to spend the rest of my life with to care about my passions, even if they didn’t get it completely, and I do want to spend the rest of my life with you,” he whispered as he squeezed the younger’s hand.
Jimin pulled away and sat up so that he could look at Yoongi with wide eyes. “Are you proposing to me?” He all but shrieked, causing Yoongi to chuckle again.
He smiled softly and took Jimin’s hand, his own thumb now trailing lightly over the fourth finger of his left hand. “Not right now, Love. If I proposed to you, it would be much more romantic and thought out than this.” He paused to looked around them, and when he looked back at the younger there was a slightly mischievous look on his face. “But why do you look so scared? Would you turn me down if I did propose? Would you not want to marry me?” There a slight pout sneaking on to his face as he spoke.
"N-no!” Jimin shrieked, shaking his head back and forth with such force that his hair whipped across his face.
“No you wouldn’t turn me down or no you wouldn’t want to marry me?” Yoongi smirked, his head cocked to the side.
“I-I,” Jimin was so flustered by the turn the conversation took that he couldn’t quite form coherent sentences.
The elder found this to be very adorable, found everything about Jimin to be adorable. He just laughed and placed a kiss lightly on Jimin’s forehead before pulling him close to his chest again. “I think it would fun being married to you,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend again. “I already get to wake up to the face of my beautiful boyfriend every day, but I think it would be much better if I could say good morning to my husband.” He could feel Jimin squirm under his arm, but he couldn’t tell if it was discomfort with the conversation or with the idea of being married. “I could introduce you to my clients as my husband…” he tested the waters. “I could take some of the photos at the wedding just so I could make sure to capture just how stunning you would look in a tux.”
“Hyung,” Jimin whined, but he snuggled closer to Yoongi.
“What is it, Love?” The older asked, fear settling low in his stomach. Before today, the thought of marriage had only briefly crossed Yoongi’s mind, but now that he was thinking about it, he couldn’t quite seem to get the idea out of his head.
“Would you really want to marry me?” The brunet asked, his voice quiet and soft.
“Yes,” Yoongi responded just as quietly, without missing a beat. He could feel the younger hum in contentment.
“That’s good.”
“It is?”
Jimin was unable to see Yoongi's expression from where was against the older’s chest, but he could hear his excitement in his voice and the quickening of his heart. “It is very good,” Jimin said with a smile. He wasn’t lying. Just imagining a married life with Yoongi made his heart soar.
“Hmm.” Yoongi hummed, planting another kiss on Jimin’s head. He looked up at the sky above them; it was just beginning to darken, the sunset fading into the night sky. So he made plans to come back here someday, to this bench in this park, but when he did return he would most likely have a small box tucked into his jacket pocket instead of the museum map.