Archive of Our Own ^beta

“So, what did you bring for me today?” Jimin heard as soon as he approached his usual table in the lunchroom. Raising his eyes from the floor, he was immediately met by the common sight of an amused-looking teenager staring at him.

Min Yoongi.

Comfortable black clothes that matched his raven hair, a couple chains around his long, elegant neck, and worn out sneakers that’d had one too many encounters with wet asphalt during impromptu games of basketball after a thunderstorm. Cool and unapproachable to some, the kindest, most outgoing of people to his friends, Yoongi was one of those people that immediately stood out amidst the crowd. And it wasn’t any particular act that earned him his popularity: he just had a natural charisma to him that drew people in.

Of course, he hadn’t always been this cool, a fact that Jimin knew and concealed all too well. For a time, Yoongi had only been known as the kid that liked frogs and played the piano like a proper virtuoso. Now? He was captain of the basketball team, member of the student council, and resident hug-giver to anyone who needed him.

He was just so cool, a fact that often translated into everyone’s surprise as soon as they discovered that Yoongi liked to spend time with him.

It wasn’t like Jimin was unpopular, to be fair. He was in the school’s dance team, he partook in martial arts competitions, and every teacher loved him. Not only that, but he liked to think that he was very friendly and approachable, and more than once he’d sat down with sad classmates and people he didn’t even know, trying his best to offer advice and comfort in any way he could find.

What everyone knew him for, however, was the fact that he made homemade pastries and baked goods. Muffins, cupcakes, cookies, brownies and everything in between. He wasn’t necessarily that good, his cookies often looked a bit messy and unfinished —rustic, he’d describe them as— and his icing skills could definitely use some work, but people seemed to like the desserts that he made and thus, he continued making and selling them. It was fun, too! And relaxing. And it made him really happy to see people munching on something he’d baked with such big smiles on their faces.

Jimin was the cute ‘muffin boy’, and Yoongi was the cool captain of the basketball team. And for some reason, they always sat together at lunch.

Some students liked to theorise about their relationship. Maybe they’d clashed in the past and had managed to find truce after a series of cunning encounters. Maybe they’d shared an uncomfortable school project and had found some common interests. Maybe they had just gotten trapped by the rain one evening and had talked as the rain fell onto the floor outside. There were many stories and sometimes the pair would share a long, hearty laugh at some of the ridiculous scenarios people would come up with.

Really, it was all very simple: Yoongi’s family lived in the house next to his, and they’d been born seven months apart.

“What makes you think that I brought you anything?” Jimin answered as he sat next to his best friend, dropping his bag on the empty seat next to him and immediately placing his chin atop his open palm, elbow bent and resting on the table for support. If he focused enough, he could hear how the people surrounding them whispered, a quiet yet familiar exchange as they noted how close the captain and muffin boy were. It’d been unnerving at first, but by now he was used to it. Watching as his friend’s cheeky smile grew, Jimin pouted a little in a small, playful complaint. “You can’t just assume that I’m going to bring something for you everyday, silly,” he said confidently, noticing how Yoongi’s smirk slowly turned from amused to knowing.

“Did you?” Was all his friend said, eyebrows disappearing under his soft fringe as mischief filled his dark eyes.

Holding his gaze for a long, quiet moment, Jimin eventually gave up and admitted the truth. “Yeah…” He sighed, dropping the confident facade as he turned to search in his bag for the big container he’d use to store and protect his pastries. Opening the almost empty box, he quickly retrieved a triangle-shaped pastry and swiftly placed it on the lid of Yoongi’s bento box. “It’s just a blueberry scone, nothing special,” he said as he did it, the yummy golden treat shining as light reached the glaze.

Staring at the treat for just a moment, Yoongi was quick to grab the sweet bread and took a nice, hefty bite out of it, the smallest bit of the glaze sticking to his pink, naturally pouty li— No! Jimin had promised to himself that he wouldn’t think about Yoongi’s lips anymore. Sure, it was a relatively natural act, given how nice and pretty they were, but it wasn’t right! Yoongi was his best friend, they’d grown up together as such, and the fact that lately Jimin wanted something more was wrong.

It was just a brief infatuation, it’d fade away in a few weeks and everything would go back to normal. To pursue any of his desires and weird ideas would only be harmful to their relationship in the future.

It was hard not to think about Yoongi in such a way, though. He was really pretty, with his fair skin and kitten-ish eyes, soft features and graceful hands. And he was funny, kind and always interesting to talk to. Not to mention how creative he was, and supportive and overall nice. And yes, his lips were really pretty, like cherry blossoms covered in powdered sugar, just waiting for someone to lean in and clean them off the soft powder with a little ki—

No. Too far. Jimin could feel his cheeks reddening as he realised what he was thinking about, and he blushed even more when he remembered that there was a small audience observing their every move in hopes of understanding the nature of their relationship. They were best friends, just that. He tried to convince himself of that over and over again as he fought back the mischievous thoughts that seeped through the cracks in the mental barrier he’d created. He needed to hold on just a little longer and in a couple days, his desire to ask Yoongi out for Valentine’s day would dim and extinguish.

Fighting back against the heat in his round cheeks, Jimin was in the middle of mentally recalling the day Yoongi had jumped into a disgusting puddle of water in the search of frogs when his friend’s voice awoke him again. Looking up from the table, not knowing when his eyes had fallen to the plastic surface, Jimin’s… thoughts of doubtful nature vanished as soon as Yoongi’s lips finished forming his phrase. “You’re right, it’s nothing special,” the dark-haired devil spoke, voice nonchalant and determined as if he truly believed what he was saying. And of course Jimin knew better, he knew his friend was messing with him, but what better chance to get rid of his annoying thoughts than the opportunity to playfully punch Yoongi in the arm? So, he did, the weak hit bringing a big smile to the basketball player. “Just kidding,” Yoongi chuckled, reaching to grab Jimin’s small fist before he could fully retract it, and holding it still in his warm hand. “It tastes great, Jimin,” he said.

Whining, Jimin buried his face in his other arm and allowed for his best friend to play with his fingers. “I hate you so much, Min Yoongi,” he said, voice muffled by his fluffy sweater that acted as the perfect cover-up for his impossibly red cheeks.

“You love me,” came Yoongi’s immediate response, letting go of Jimin’s hand and instead wrapping him into a half hug. It was a warm embrace, one that didn’t particularly aid with Jimin’s conflicting thoughts and emotions and yet, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love it. Groaning as he allowed his friend to bury him into a deeper hug —the sensation akin to what Jimin felt like under his weighted blanket—, he heard the other speak again. “So, are you free later today?”

“Any special plans?” Jimin asked, the muffled nature of his voice now attributed to another factor: Yoongi’s chest.

“I just want to hang out with you, silly,” his friend answered, clearly enjoying how ashamed Jimin had grown and yet, there was a soft nature to the way he spoke, as opposed to the usual teasing tone. It was a very faint difference, one most people would miss, but Yoongi knew Jimin would catch on to it, and would understand that he was doing it to ensure that he was doing okay. It was nice, to have someone who cared this deeply about him without having to do or change anything. It was also worrisome, for these kind gestures had always been a part of Yoongi’s behaviour towards him, but now they meant even more to him. Blocking off that trail of thought, Jimin made sure to pay attention to what the other was saying. “You’ve been busy between school, baking and helping your dad in the restaurant. You deserve a little fun.”

Pushing himself away from Yoongi’s chest, the shorter one tried his best to ignore his own red cheeks as he teased his friend. “Aww, you miss me.”

Yoongi huffed, then smiled knowingly. “I didn’t say that. I just think you’ve been pushing yourself a lot these days.”

“You miss me.”

“Stop,” Yoongi ordered. “You’re lucky you’re cute. Otherwise, I wouldn’t hang out with you anymore,” he said, ending the hug at last and shooting a small look at some nosy classmates across the dining hall. Watching the quiet exchange, Jimin tried his very best to control his unleashed heartbeat before anyone could hear it, then turned his attention to the small amount of food that remained in Yoongi’s bento. It was clear that the basketball prodigy was done eating, his chopsticks set to the side and his toothbrush set waiting atop the table to be used, which meant that the remaining bits of Yoongi’s lunch were for Jimin. Between running around the hallways selling his pastries and his bad habit of eating sweets during class, Jimin’s diet had definitely taken a toll and Yoongi was trying to help him eat a little healthier these days. Yet another reminder of how kind his friend was…

“You think I’m cute, Yoongi?” He simply asked, as laid-back as he could so that it’d come across as teasing as opposed to genuine curiosity. Because even if Jimin was trying to get rid of his unwanted romantic feelings for his best friend, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was a chance Yoongi felt in a similar way to himself.

It appeared he wouldn’t get an answer this time, however, for Yoongi seemingly had enough of the playful teasing and decided to face the other side of the table. “Fine, I won’t speak anymore,” he said, unable to hide his pink cheeks from Jimin despite how hard he tried. As always, his voice was soft and indicated that it was all playful banter, a gesture the prone-to-overthink Jimin would appreciate a lot. Reaching for the last part of his blueberry scone, Yoongi pretended to not care as he spoke again. “You better bring more of these later, okay?”

Jimin chuckled, pulling the last scone out of his backpack and handing it to his friend. “Okay, Yoongi,” he replied, busying himself with the remnants of Yoongi’s lunch and thanking himself for making an extra-batch the previous night.

Racing home hadn’t really been a part of their plans, but now that they were doing it Jimin had to recognise that it was incredibly fun. The feeling of the wind in his hair, the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins as his legs moved, the exciting feeling of having Yoongi behind him… It was all really pleasant.

It had all started the day before: they had been playing Mario Kart in peace, calmly eating strawberries and grapes as they talked about their extracurricular activities, when Jungkook entered the room for a short while. Because he was so amazing, Yoongi had stopped the game to pay attention to his younger brother, who was quick to point out that their overall scores were the same. And of course, one thing led to another, and soon their calm evening playing videogames became more of a competition and soon they’d been playfully yelling at each other, the fact that their scores were still even infuriating to no end. Soon, the time for Jimin to leave had arrived and they were still matched, so the only logical answer was to settle the discourse the next day.

So here they were, avoiding people as they moved through the sidewalk, maniacally laughing at each other and innocent insults being shouted from time to time. Really, the only time they’d stop was when the traffic lights were red, the opportunity to breathe and talk a welcome occurrence.

And now they were in their own street, their houses visible from uphill where they stood and victory set in both their minds. Soon, either of them would earn their victory and with that, they’d obtain the right to demand something of the other: something fun, something harmless, something neither of them would do otherwise. It was a dangerous game, for sure, one that could easily end in an embarrassing down the road, but they were both a little competitive and they were very much invested in the idea of ordering the other around. Of course, the punishment they chose had to be something nice, something that’d make them both smile down the line.

In Jimin’s case, he was determined to ask for Yoongi to bake with him. He’d already brought it up to his beloved friend more than once, but every time he mentioned it the basketball captain would come up with some excuse about why he couldn’t go, which made it clear that he was avoiding it. Why? Jimin had no idea, but he intended on figuring out why.

As for Yoongi, he’d mentioned that he wanted to do something fun with Jimin sometime after his next basketball game, but he refused to say anything else and it was really unnerving, so the younger one was determined to win and avoid the scary situation. For all he knew, Yoongi would demand to know about his crush and that was something he wasn’t ready to talk about, now that his answer had shifted from the answer he’d been providing for years to something more… personal. Nope, he couldn’t let Yoongi win, it was all too dangerous and besides, he was more than excited about the prospect of having his best friend covering himself in flour and making cookies as ugly as Jimin’s.

Spotting his house in the distance, he decided to push himself a little further now that he was on the last stretch, his muscles immediately complaining about the extra amount of effort he was adding to each of his movements and he knew he’d regret it later, but there were important things at stake here. He was sixteen years old and he danced every day, it made no sense that his body was this stiff in the middle of the afternoon.

Taking a deep breath as he reached the third house away from his, Jimin allowed himself to drown in the marvellous feelings that victory brought to him. It was right there, within his reach, so close he could almost savour the sweet smell that permanently emanated from his kitchen by now. Soon, he’d be able to stop putting a strain to his muscles. Soon, he’d be able to throw himself to the closest patch of grass to rest. Soon, he could eat one of the donut holes he hadn’t sold at school.

Soon, he’d be able to tell Yoongi about his wish.

Just as he reached the house right next to his, however, his hopes and dreams were broken. Shattered. Torn into a million pieces as Yoongi passed right by him, wild charcoal hair bouncing with each of his steps as the distance between him and Jimin grew to that of one meter, then another, and then it was over.

And it shouldn’t had affected him, it’d always been a possibility that Yoongi would win: he was in the basketball team, he was fast, and he’d constantly pull surprises like this out of thin air. However, the fact that he’d been that close to victory only to have it stolen right in front of him was hard. Like a rock being thrown at his marshmallow heart, the tear in the squishy surface representing the fact that now he wasn’t able to teach Yoongi how to make ugly cookies, or an uneven cake or a rustic cupcake. It was a strong blow, like being punched right in the tummy and having air escape his lungs altogether, and maybe it was the adrenaline or the fact that he was hypersensitive these days, but for some reason Jimin found himself tearing up as his steps slowed down, stopping right in front of his friend as the knot in his throat tightened to the point that it was unbearable.

“Yoongi! That’s not fair, you were stalling on purpose!” He found himself speaking, voice strained as he gasped for air, the crazed race they’d just had having as much impact on him as the fact that he was distressed for no good reason. It was just a silly bet, why was he so upset? Yoongi would never tell him to do something embarrassing or scary, there was no reason for him to fear his friend this much.

Crouching on the floor as he desperately tried to stabilize his breathing, Yoongi was smiling from ear to ear as the euphoria of winning washed over him, the fact that Jimin was genuinely sad flying right over his head. The younger couldn’t blame him, however: it was impossible to catch onto any tones when they were both breathless. “I was saving my energy for the last stretch, yeah,” Yoongi admitted, pushing hair away from his forehead in a motion that didn’t really help Jimin with his internal dilemma: he looked so good, and he was so hurt by that fact he couldn’t even enjoy the sight. Tearing his eyes away from the bush in front of him, Yoongi finally looked at the hunched figure that was his best friend and continued talking. “I almost didn’t catch up though. You are really fa—” He said, interrupting himself as a frown settled between his eyebrows. As if he’d noticed that Jimin was in distress. How could he tell? The shorter one was just trying to slow his breathing down. “Jimin?”

Wiping some sweat away from his face —getting rid of a couple rogue tears in the process—, Jimin thought about hiding the truth for a second, then determined that if Yoongi was able to see that he was upset, he’d be able to tell that he was lying as well. Trying his best not to sound too sad, for he knew he was sad over something very silly, he took a deep breath and looked at his friend straight in the eyes. “I wanted to win,” he said with a pout, voice wavering a little both from the race, and from the intense emotions he was feeling.

Why was he so sad? He was just going to ask Yoongi to bake with him, he could do that any other day, in the first place.

Covering his eyes with his hands in a weak attempt at concealing his tears, Jimin wasn’t necessarily surprised when he heard Yoongi standing up, surrounding him with his arms a moment later and they were both sweaty, but neither of them cared too much about it at the moment. “I know,” came his friend’s gentle voice, his embrace warmer than usual and yet, it was all Jimin really needed at the moment. “Don’t pout, little one. You were really close.”

“But now I won’t get to ask you to do what I wanted,” Jimin replied, the sinking weight in his heart slowly lifting away as Yoongi’s fingers threaded through his hair in a soothing motion. Yoongi was always the first to complain about cleanliness and touching anything or anyone after basketball practice, so the fact that he was ignoring his own little rules in favour of consoling Jimin really warmed the younger’s heart.

“You’re right,” Yoongi chuckled. “But I promise you’ll like what I have in mind,” the cheery basketball captain said, slowly pulling away from Jimin so that he could drag them both towards the younger’s house.

“You don’t know that.”

Halting his movements altogether, Yoongi pushed him away so that he had no choice but to look at his pretty face. “Jimin, I’m your best friend. I know these things,” Yoongi stated. “Do you trust me?” A nod. “Then erase that little frown of yours. It makes you look like an old man,” he joked, and Jimin obeyed, if only to roll his eyes at his friend. He was still a little shaky and his heart was still a little heavier than usual, but the fact that his friend was so concerned about him was soothing. Giving the other a small smile, Jimin waited for Yoongi to say anything as he was afraid hearing his own wobbly voice would throw him back into the feelings of despair. Seeing the small grin, Yoongi nodded to himself and swung an arm around Jimin’s small shoulders, slowly pulling them both towards the front door. A second later, he added an off-handed comment. “Tell you what, after we do what I have in mind, you can tell me what you wanted and we’ll do it. Okay?”

Opening his eyes widely, Jimin stared at his best friend in disbelief. Could this really be happening? “Really?” He asked, afraid that it’d all be some perverse joke but knowing from the get-go that Yoongi wasn’t like that. He was sweet, caring, and knew when to joke and when to take things seriously. And this was the time for the latter.

“Of course, silly,” Yoongi promised. “Now let’s go inside and get some water and some of those donut holes you made,” he said, crooked smile on his lips as he did so.

Ignoring the little flip of his heart, Jimin nodded. “Thank you, Yoongi.”

“Do you really need to prepare so many things in advance?” Yoongi’s voice broke the silence.

They didn’t normally spend this much time together, but for some reason they couldn’t let go of each other and neither of them was opposed about the idea of hanging out a bit more often. So, after doing most of their homework, they’d ended up hanging out in the living room, with Yoongi watching YouTube videos whilst Jimin readied up everything to be able to bake some cookies the next day. Every Thursday, he’d make chocolate chip cookies and he was getting really good at those, everyone seemed to enjoy them and he was more than happy with how nice they tasted.

Even in their dough form, which was what they were eating at the moment.

Laying down on Jimin’s bed after taking a shower each, they’d been getting in the mood for sleeping when Yoongi broke their comfortable silence, his words laced with curiosity and affection and it was interesting to see him so invested into something he still seemed to avoid like the plague: actually baking.

Without raising from the bed, Jimin combed through his own damp hair as he answered. “If I want to sleep, yeah. I could always wake up at four and do the same, but I think we both know which is the better option,” he finished, a small glance at Yoongi solidifying what he meant and it was funny to see the other’s expression of terror as he imagined what it’d be like to wake up so early. Jimin wasn’t a morning person in the slightest, but Yoongi was way worse in that aspect: waking him up was a nightmare, one that Jimin would have to affront later when they woke up the next morning.

“Can’t you make this during the weekend?” Yoongi asked after a moment.

Jimin shook his head decisively. “Fresh dough is always better, Yoongi,” he said. “I can make some in advance, but I have to use it within the next three days and I don’t really see the point,” he explained. Sure, it was nice to stop worrying about his baking concoctions for a couple days, the only concern being shoving them in the oven, but there was something incredibly soothing about preparing dough before bed and he wasn’t going to break his routine any time soon. Besides, it wasn’t his job to make baked goods; it was just a pastime that happened to earn him some extra money. If he skipped a day, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

Taking one of the frozen dough balls Jimin had brought over for snacks, Yoongi sighed and stared at the ceiling dreamily. “This whole baking thing looks complicated. Good thing I don’t have to do it,” he said, then munched on the dough.

Squinting at him in a quiet complaint, Jimin sighed and decided to let the comment slide. It was a little frustrating how against baking Yoongi seemed to be, but at the end of the day it was one of the younger’s many hobbies and there were plenty of things his friend liked to do that he didn’t, so it was only fair that Yoongi got to skip on baking. He still really wanted to drag the older into it, but he’d have to wait. “Yeah. You get to laze around and play videogames all night, whereas I have to stay up and prepare cookie dough for the next day,” Jimin playfully complained, a small punch landing right on Yoongi’s chest.

“Hey, you chose that fate, I chose mine,” the other just chirped as he ate the cookie dough. Then, he feigned an offended look and glared at Jimin. “I don’t play videogames though.”

“What do you do, then?” Came his short response, sitting up on his bed as he spoke so that he could look at Yoongi’s face when he answered.

“Guitar. It’s very fun, you should try it someday,” Yoongi replied, a cute air-guitar gesture complementing his words and Jimin hadn’t seen the older playing, but he knew how good Yoongi was at the piano so it’d only make sense that he was good with the guitar as well.

Reaching forward to play with Yoongi’s hair for a moment, Jimin readied himself to put on the best puppy-eyes he could muster. “Would you ever play for me?” He asked, voice soft as he did it because whilst his friend showed a confident side of himself to the world, he could be very shy and it was hard to get him to show off his talents at times. Like basketball! It had taken Jimin over a year to get his friend to show him some moves when Yoongi had just gotten started. He was quite the perfectionist, after all.

Thankfully, his puppy-eyes weren’t needed this time around, for Yoongi didn’t need to think too long about it before answering. “Someday. Next time you stay over for the night,” he promised, and Jimin took that to heart. “Tonight, we just chill and read a little,” Yoongi added and it sounded nice, when they were kids the older would read books for Jimin until he fell asleep.

But right now he was more in the mood for something else. “Boring. Let’s do something fun.”

“Like what?”

Smiling deviously, Jimin stood up and quickly pushed the small floor mattress Yoongi would later sleep in away, then moved towards his small collection of CDs and vinyls and started searching for something. He knew the perfect song to get Yoongi in the mood, and he was determined to make his best friend dance a little with him; a partial punishment for winning the previous day, of course. Finding the song he was looking for, he raised the vinyl over his head as he faced his best friend, and smiled as widely as he could. “Let’s dance!” He announced.

Yoongi’s reaction was nothing short of amazing, as any time Jimin brought up ‘dancing’ in the past. First, he stared in absolute silence at Jimin’s face as if he was reading hieroglyphs, slowly trying to process what he was looking at as his mind caught up. Then, his eyes started opening up more and more in silence, their usual almond-shape slowly turning into that of plates, the smallest hint of fear in the bottom of his dark irises. At last, annoyance washed over the boy’s features as he desperately started looking for ways out of such a situation.

It was an incredibly amusing sequence of expressions that Jimin would never get tired of. Especially since he knew he’d manage to convince his friend in the end.

“What?” Yoongi said, quickly rising from the bed and almost making the cookie dough fall down in the process. Saving the snack and placing it on the desk, Yoongi started to shake his hands frantically and it took everything out of Jimin to withhold his laughter. “No, no, no. You promised you wouldn’t pull this one again,” the dark-haired teen was saying, taking a few steps closer towards Jimin as if he were approaching a dangerous criminal.

Holding back a giggle, Jimin tilted his head to the side and whined. “But why? It’s fun, it’ll tire you up, and you’ll get to sleep better!” He announced, pulling out the disk from it’s slip and reaching blindly for his record player.

Stepping closer, Yoongi glared at him as he reached his side, a tentative hand trying to get a hold of the shorter’s hand. “Jimin, you know I’m terrible at dancing. I look like a marionette in a storm when I dance,” he said, finally grasping Jimin’s smaller hand but it was too late now, the vinyl was on the record player. All he had to do now was press play and Yoongi would have no way to escape. That said, the younger one really wanted his friend to willingly accept and thus, he looked at his friend with the cutest, most innocent eyes he could muster. Yoongi’s frown deepened, eyes squinted in fake annoyance as he desperately scrambled for any set of words that would dissuade the younger from his little game. “Your puppy eyes won’t work, Jimin. Don’t even try it.”

“But if we dance, it’ll make me really happy. Don’t you want me to be happy?” Jimin shot back, holding the tone arm and putting it onto position, eyes falling to the floor as he tried to stop thinking about the fact that Yoongi was practically surrounding him with his arms and he loved spending time with his best friend, but recently his heart was a mess and this wasn’t helping in the slightest.

Yoongi shook his head, trying to appear tough when it was clear he was near the point of giving up. “Nope, you’re a bad boy,” he said, and Jimin had a sudden idea. “You don’t deserve to—” He started, immediately interrupted by the hug the shorter one buriend him in. “Jimin, stop!” He exclaimed, and the baker couldn’t see, but he knew his best friend was smiling and trying to fight back the laughter. “Ugh, why are you so cute?” Yoongi uttered, returning the hug at last and with that, his resolve vanished into thin air. Jimin had won! “Be honest, was this what you were going to order me to do?”

“Nope. I swear it’s something else.”

Holding him tight for just one moment, Yoongi gave up altogether. “I hate it when you’re honest,” he sighed, pulling away from the hug to stare at the younger. “Fine, one song. Just one!” He clarified when Jimin started bouncing up and down. “Then we sleep.”

“Thank you! You’re the best of all the best friends in the world!” Jimin said, leaning in to hug Yoongi one last time before turning his attention to his record player one more time, making sure that everything was alright before hitting the play button.

Soon, the joyful sound of a lovely violin filled the room and it was just loud enough for the two of them to dance around without having to worry about waking up Seokjin, who was sleeping right next door and would have a thing or two to say about the pair being noisy in the middle of the night. Granted, Jimin’s brother was one for the dramatics, but the fact remained that the older man needed to sleep.

Holding Yoongi’s hands with his own, Jimin was quick to drag his best friend to the center of the room and started bouncing around with no particular rhythm in mind. He just wanted to dance with Yoongi! It was always fun to see the older’s stiff movements as they slowly loosened up, the creeping smile on his lips betraying the pretended annoyance he displayed, and his soft black hair becoming a soft cloud of fuzz and excitement as he moved his head from side to side. It was cute, to witness Yoongi’s angry facade melting like chocolate only to expose his marshmallow cheeks and toothy grin and it was precisely what Jimin needed right now: to have fun with his friend like he always did, without having to worry about the next morning, Valentine’s day, and his impending doom whenever Yoongi decided to enforce his newly found power.

Watching as Yoongi moved on his own at last —he did look like a marionette in the wind, now that he thought about it—, Jimin allowed himself to feel the music and started spinning around on his own, occasionally facing his friend and allowing for the older to grab his hand at some point. Soon, they were waltzing to a song that was most definitely not a waltz, and tears pricked at the corners of their eyes due to how hard they were laughing, their movements in perfect unison despite how nonsensical they were being and no matter how much Yoongi hated to dance, he still accepted to boogie down on his own as Jimin watched him in cheerful awe.

By the time the song reached it’s bridge, they were both already a little out of breath and they somehow ended up in each other’s arms, their warm bodies pressed against each other and Yoongi’s smiling face resting atop Jimin’s hair. No doubt, the smell of chocolate-chip cookies mixed with the lingering scent of their respective body washes and it was a delicious mixture, one that would engrave itself in Jimin’s memory forever to the point that he doubted he’d ever be able to think of anything other than this moment each time he baked such cookies.

It was a bittersweet feeling, knowing that he’d forever associate such a smell and the song with the time he’d accidentally crushed on his best friend.

Regardless, they were both very happy as they jumped around during the last chorus, and even more so as they hugged a little once the tune was done. Fast breathing slowly returning to a normal rhythm, Jimin really didn’t want to pull away from Yoongi anytime soon. So, he didn’t. Clinging to the other’s shirt in hopes of keeping the contact a little bit longer, he wasn’t that surprised when Yoongi started talking, his voice merely a whisper as he leaned closer to his ear in a very intimate motion. “Jimin, I have a question,” he started, only earning a little hum as an answer. “Remember that kid, Byeongkwan?” He said. And Jimin froze. They hadn’t talked about him in a long time; they hadn’t seen Byeongkwan in a long time. Why was Yoongi bringing it up? He hummed again, a little nervous as he did it because he had no idea where this was going. He didn’t have to wait too long, however, for Yoongi asked one last thing that clarified everything else. “You liked him, didn’t you?”

Staring into his friend’s eyes as he answered, Jimin thanked their little dancing session for giving him enough energy to not break into a nervous puddle. “A little, yes,” he said. It was really awkward to talk about the fact that he liked boys with Yoongi —anyone, for that matter—, but it had already been a few months since he’d opened up about such a fact and it was slowly getting easier. Why Yoongi wanted to know, however, remained a mystery.

“Okay,” Yoongi nodded, a half smile on his lips and something that looked like hope in his eyes. What was this about? Jimin couldn’t understand. Tilting his head to the side, Yoongi pinched the younger’s cheek in a tender motion, then leaned in and planted a soft kiss on his forehead. “Jimin? There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he said. Then, mischief replaced whatever had been in his eyes and pointed at the record player playfully. “Come on, put that silly song on again. I’m up for round two,” he said.

And Jimin had no idea what any of this was about, but he decided that it didn’t really matter all that much and so, he opted to enjoy the rest of the night as if everything was normal and okay. “No way. No, you’re going to dance to Foreigner now,” he announced, and immediately moved to his record collection to pull some of the noisiest music he owned. Hopefully, they wouldn’t wake Seokjin up with their noise.

Behind him, Yoongi groaned and laughed. “What have I gotten myself into?” His friend lamented, clearly not minding the dance-part anymore and only pretending to keep the energy flowing.

Jimin laughed.

Sitting in the lunchroom after selling all his products for the day, Jimin stared curiously as his best friend sprinted against time in a desperate effort to finish a piece of homework that was due in… 15 minutes, on the dot. It was Yoongi’s worst habit, to be fair: he’d usually leave his homework until the last minute and then he’d get very stressed over the limited amount of time he had left to finish everything. And sure, his projects would always end up being among the best of his entire classroom, but the stress he subjected himself to tended to be unnecessary and frankly, it was somewhat unnerving to see how frantic and nervous he’d get as the minutes trickled down.

“I told you to do your homework yesterday,” Jimin pointed out as he shoved one of his little brownies in his mouth. He rarely made more than one type of pastries each day, but he’d really been craving brownies for a week and he figured today was a good day for it. Enjoying the chewy texture as the chocolate dissolved in his mouth, Jimin looked at the way Yoongi’s fingers looked around his pencil. His hold was sturdy, yes, but also delicate and graceful. Like when the older was focusing! He’d often touch his own lips in a very soft motion, the long digits barely gracing the plump surface of his pink li— No, not again. He wasn’t supposed to think about Yoongi’s lips!

Scowling at Yoongi’s hands now, he was about to point out a small orthography mistake —anything to clear his mind— when the older spoke. “Yeah, I thought this was going to be easier,” his friend said, voice a little strained as his stress levels reached a new high. It was borderline painful to watch as Yoongi struggled this much, but Jimin knew himself enough to understand that even if he left and did something else, his mind would still be fixed on the fact that Yoongi was struggling. As such, he preferred to stay around and try to at least offer some comfort to his friend, if anything by sitting in silence by his side. Soon, Yoongi spoke again, voice hopeless as he tried to convince Jimin of letting him copy his homework again. “Are you sure you can’t—”

“Nope.”

“But—”

“No.”

“Jimin,” his friend whined. It was somewhat amusing, but the younger couldn’t bring himself to smile when there was such genuine concern in the other’s voice.

Raising his eyes to hold his friend’s, Jimin raised a little eyebrow as he answered. “Yoongi,” he said, voice a little strained as he himself didn’t feel too happy about having to decline Yoongi’s plea. He wanted to help his best friend, but he couldn’t let him copy everything he’d written because it’d be more than obvious that such a thing had happened. It wasn’t like it was a secret that they were friends, even the teachers were aware, so it’d only take the teacher a couple minutes to catch onto the fact that Yoongi had cheated and that could only be bad for the two of them.

And Yoongi knew this, based on his expression and the amused tone he used when he spoke again. “Why are you being a meanie?” He said, eyes returning to the piece of paper in which he was quickly scribbling down definitions about the cell structure and it’s inner workings.

Rolling his eyes even if the other couldn’t see, Jimin shook his head and rested his head against Yoongi’s shoulder, a quiet caress that would hopefully soothe the other so that he could finish what he was doing without breaking down. “Come on, you can do it,” he said, soft and tender and apparently that was either weird, or too much, for their little fanclub started whispering like crazy behind them.

Right, their every move was being observed.

Trying to pull away so that he wouldn’t fuel whatever nonsensical rumours they were sharing, Jimin’s movements were quickly halted by the strong grip Yoongi placed on his shoulder, his best friend pulling him closer so that he continued resting his head on the older’s shoulder. “Stay,” he said, eyes never leaving his notebook and yet, it was clear that he was fully aware of what was happening. Not only was Yoongi good at multitasking —unlike Jimin, who could only focus on one thing at a time—, but he had shared complaints about the nosy students in the past. This time wasn’t unlike the others. “Don’t you think it’s annoying? How everyone stares at us every time we sit here?” His friend casually pointed out as he made a sloppy drawing of the cell.

Stiff, Jimin sighed and tried his best to make a joke. “They’re looking at you, Mr. Basketball Team Captain,” he complained.

“No, they’re looking at you, Mr. Baker Boy,” Yoongi was quick to retort.

Jimin chuckled at those words, forcing his way out of Yoongi’s iron grip so that he could look at his best friend’s face. “Why would they look at me?” He asked defiantly, voice a little more amused than the last time he had spoken. Yoongi was nearly done with his homework, he was just missing a part about the nucleus and he’d be free of his self-imposed purgatory; they could joke a little.

Sparing him the smallest of glances, Yoongi smirked as he reached for some colourful markers and started colouring the yanky little cell he’d created. “Why would they look at me?” He shot back.

“You’re popular and cool,” Jimin huffed. “Everyone looks up to you.”

Yoongi didn’t even blink as he answered. “And you’re beautiful and an angel. Anyone would want to stare at you,” he said nonchalantly. Casual. As if he hadn’t said anything weird. As if he hadn’t said something that seemingly punched air out of Jimin’s lungs and made his heart skip a few beats. What the heck? Sure, Yoongi would often make comments like that about Jimin, but they were never this blunt and straightforward. Never this sincere and off-handed. It was weird, and it definitely made something akin to butterflies fly around in his tummy and that couldn’t be healthy, for that felt very weird.

And he didn’t know how to react.

On one hand, it was incredibly heartwarming to see how much his friend cared about him; how highly he thought of Jimin. On the other hand, it was becoming increasingly hard to keep whatever weird feelings were blossoming on his chest at bay. Yoongi was his best friend, it made sense that he’d say something like that in order to boost Jimin’s confidence. Then why did it feel so different? So special and precious?

Like fireworks and petals, or the smell of caramel and the warm feeling of a soft blanket, Yoongi’s words had casually made their way to Jimin’s very confused heart and scrambled everything he knew to be certain and there was no doubt anymore: he was crushing on his best friend. Hard. In fact, crushing felt like the wrong word to use. He didn’t have a crush on Min Yoongi, for a crush was something that often faded away with time; very sparingly would a crush transcend time in a meaningful way, and they tended to morph into vague appreciation. No, what he had was not a crush.

He’d fallen in love with his best friend.

To be fair, he had no idea when that had happened. It wasn’t a sudden change, that much he knew, but no matter how many times he’d tried in the last couple months, he couldn’t find the source of the change in the way he felt about Yoongi. He really couldn’t remember how his feelings for his friend were just the previous month, let alone the previous year. All he knew was that at some point, the admiration and brotherly love he’d felt for his dearest Yoongi had shifted into something deeper, something sparkly and cozy and terrifying. And he wasn’t scared about what he felt, really. It felt somewhat natural and like it was always meant to be.

No, what he was scared of was that Yoongi didn’t feel the same. That his friend was happy with being his best friend and nothing more than that, that he would be sad or upset about the change in Jimin’s heart whenever the younger thought about him. That he’d push him back if he ever found out about his feelings. That he’d go out and fall in love with someone else, with someone that wasn’t Jimin. It was all really scary, and he refused to let such fears take over, but it wasn’t as easy as shoving stuff under his bed when his bedroom was messy. He’d need to think about it for a long time before he could accept that there wasn’t much of a chance that Yoongi felt in any way similar to him, and the fact that Valentine’s day was so close and everywhere he went there were hearts and loving couples wasn’t helping. He needed to wait. Just 4 more days and he’d be okay.

“Don’t say those things,” he eventually said, voice tiny and a little frail as he did it, yet realising that it’d be worse if he didn’t say anything. No, he couldn’t leave his friend hanging, for Yoongi would realise something was up and he didn’t want to share his sadness just yet.

And of course, Yoongi wasn’t done messing with his heart, for he immediately doubled down on what he’d said. “Why? It’s the truth,” he said. Plain and simple, yet again. Jimin felt the butterflies speeding up in his tummy, and he was more than happy when his friend switched the topic altogether. “Now be nice and give me one of your little brownies. I need the fuel to get this done in time,” the older finished.

“You have ten minutes,” Jimin pointed out as he handed his friend one of the brownies he’d saved for the two of them, distractedly taking some of the kimbap Yoongi had gotten for him. And yet, his mind was still wallowing in the funny sensations that filled his entire body, from head to toe, the mixture of really positive feelings and doubt making it hard to focus on anything else. “Did you mean that?” He found himself asking after around a minute of silence, cheeks flaring up as soon as he realised what he’d said because whilst that was a constant thought in his head, he hadn’t meant to voice it out to the person who made him feel like that.

Before he could backtrack, Yoongi dropped his pen on the surface of his notebook and turned to face the smaller one. “Jimin, I’d never lie to you: you’re one of the most beautiful people in the entire world. Inside and out. I would know, I’ve known you for the last sixteen years,” he stated. His name was unwavering, and it was as firm as it’d been when he’d spoken before. Tilting his head slightly, the older raised an eyebrow and tried his best to lighten the mood. “Are you calling me a liar?” He asked, and Jimin was quick to shake his head vehemently. Nodding to himself and cupping Jimin’s cheek for just a moment, the older returned to what he was doing as he spoke. “Good. Another brownie, please,” he requested.

Reaching in stunned silence for the baked treat, Jimin distractedly moved the small chocolate square and fed it to Yoongi on instinct, only realising how weird that was until it was done. Feeling his cheeks warming up like crazy —and hearing a myriad of shocked gasps and whispers from their admirers—, Jimin quickly scrambled for an apology. “O-Oh! Sorry Yoongi, I didn’t— I wasn’t—”

“Jimin?” Yoongi’s voice cut him off. His cheeks were a little pink, but other than that he seemed totally unaffected. Locking eyes with the bundle of nerves that the younger had become, Yoongi smiled and spoke sweetly. “Another one, please?” He said. There was no reproach in his words. As if he didn’t care.

(As if he’d liked it.)

“People are watching,” the baker was quick to point out.

Yoongi made a face. “They always are,” he complained, the grimace immediately being replaced with a soft smile. A smile full of love. “Jimin? Please?” He asked again, and the younger blindly reached for a brownie, then fed it to his best friend. Yoongi’s eyes didn’t leave his as he bit into the soft chocolate, then ate it like a seal. Smiling sweetly, the older winked at him and returned to his homework. He had two minutes to finish. “Thank you,” he sang, then added an off-handed compliment. “See? You’re an angel,” Yoongi said.

Jimin was shocked.

He was confused. Absolutely, and thoroughly confused. On one hand, the realisation that he really loved Yoongi —in a romantic, more than friends way— was euphoric. He loved his best friend! That was great and it really made their connection feel more special than it already was. The imaginary concept of going out on cute little dates, holding hands and kissing was really nice, and a small part of himself thought that it was possible, that one day he’d confess to Yoongi and his best friend would accept his words and reciprocate his feelings. It was a wonderful dream, one that wasn’t necessarily impossible given how sweet and caring Yoongi had always been. Not to mention his recent behaviour, which loosely hinted at the fact that the older boy felt somewhat similar to Jimin.

However, on the other hand, he could be imagining things. Maybe the sweet words and caresses were just friendly, maybe his brain was tarnishing their meaning in order to fit a narrative he liked better. It was a dangerous slope, and he hadn’t had time to fully process everything in a way that allowed him to look at things objectively. Perhaps a little introspection would find the fault in the things he thought he was seeing, perhaps he would be able to understand that he was imagining the longing looks and the new tone to Yoongi’s words.

He didn’t know. He didn’t think he’d know any time soon. It was a weird set of feelings and he was divided between being optimistic or remaining skeptical.

And he thought he was doing good in hiding it. He thought Yoongi hadn’t noticed his sour mood or the way he would stare in silence as he tried to discern the limits between their familiar friendship and the new, sparkly, cotton candy flavoured romance he thought was blossoming between them. He thought his always adorable, somewhat oblivious best friend hadn’t noticed anything weird about his behaviour.

Which is why, when they were playing videogames under a comfortable mountain of blankets, pillows and plushies, Jimin was more than surprised to hear Yoongi’s voice acquired a blue hue, one of concern and adoration that was almost completely foreign to their relationship. Because yest, they always shared the good and the bad, but there had always been a lot more good than sadness and it was rare that his beloved Yoongi would bring up any emotional turmoils that were tormenting Jimin. Especially since the older usually operated under the philosophy that people should only open up when they were ready.

It started with his name. “Jimin?” And then it morphed into the dreaded question that he had no particular answer to. “Are you okay?”

Looking at his dearest friend and object of his affection, Jimin tried his best to appear calm. Collected. As if he was quietly sailing through a peaceful lake as opposed to the mini-tsunami of emotions that threatened to drown him almost every day now. “Hm? Yeah, perfectly okay,” he said, eyes leaving Yoongi after a second only to realise that his friend had paused the game they were playing, the excuse he was going to use to avoid looking at Yoongi now vanishing like a ghost. “Why?”

Scoffing, Yoongi raised a hand and delicately grabbed Jimin’s small chin, the motion as soft as a butterfly even as his friend forced him to turn and face him altogether. “You’re spacing out a lot, silly,” his friend said, the gentle smile on his lips making a quiet promise: everything was okay. “Is something bothering you?”

“Not really,” Jimin answered, closing his eyes so that he wouldn’t have to look at the person who’d unleashed such a confusing set of hormones in his brain. “I was just thinking about something,” he trailed off, words leaving his mouth unfiltered and it was a somewhat dangerous idea, to let himself speak without really thinking about it thoroughly. Thankfully, his unleashed mind managed to land in a safe place, a comfort memory that smelled of gummy bears and lazy summer days. “Remember the time I broke your PS2?”

Without looking, he could tell Yoongi was smiling as he spoke, hand fully encompassing Jimin’s cheek and it was a normal gesture between then, yet the implication behind it was somewhat different. New. “How could I forget?”

Realising that this was where his brain wanted to go now, Jimin decided to go on with the story. “Up until that point I had never broken any of your toys and I managed to break the most delicate one,” he said with a chuckle. “I was terrified. I was afraid you were going to be mad at me and yell.”

“I’d never yell at you, Jimin,” Yoongi interceded, the important observation somehow helping extinguish some of the flames in Jimin’s heart.

“I know, but I was scared,” he said. He’d only been five when that’d happened. In retrospect, it would’ve been weirder if he hadn’t been scared. “And then you found me. Trying to fix the damn thing on my own with my little baby hands.”

“You were hiding in my closet, I remember,” Yoongi provided, the ironic nature of such a statement unable to escape Jimin’s grasp. He wasn’t necessarily hiding now, but his negative emotions were partially due to lingering fears from the time he used to hide from himself. Maybe the fact that he’d remembered such a particular event wasn’t that weird; maybe his subconscious had managed to find a loosely related memory to his current struggle in hopes of making Jimin himself realise that everything’d be fine, the same way it’d been fine back then. However, in the grand scheme of things, it felt like a coincidence made more sense than such a theory.

Nodding in order to acknowledge Yoongi’s comment, he continued. “When you opened the door I got really scared. I started crying and I couldn’t even look at your face,” Jimin recalled, chocolate heart melting a little as he remembered the next part. And he didn’t really want to open his eyes, but his body moved on it’s own and soon, he was facing his best friend once again. He really hadn’t changed that much from when they were kids, to be entirely honest. “And then you crouched in front of me and pulled me into a hug. And you said we’d fix the console together and we ended up breaking it even more,” he finished with a giggle.

Yoongi laughed too. “Dad was so mad.”

“You wouldn’t let me take the blame,” Jimin added immediately afterwards, the small memory from their childhood slowly vanishing as it reached its conclusion. It had been a really funny day, one that he’d often remember and smile at and it wasn’t necessarily because of the failed reparation they’d done. No, it had more to do with what had happened afterwards, a detail Yoongi might have forgotten, but it would forever be engraved in Jimin’s brain.

One of his most treasured memories…

“Is this really what you’re thinking about?” Yoongi asked, one hand still cupping Jimin’s cheek whereas the other one had found a nice cozy home in the bird’s nest that was his fluffy hair. It was nice to have someone who held him with such care, like he was a precious jewel or something really beautiful and worthy of admiration, so he melted into the hold and allowed himself to relax a little. He didn’t have anything figured out yet, but he knew one thing for certain: Yoongi loved and cared for him, and it was okay for him to accept his friend’s kindness and gestures of affection.

“I think about this every time we play videogames, dummy,” he said. “About what you said back then: ‘No matter what happens, you’re my best friend, Jimin. I’ll always take care of you’,” Jimin recalled, the wonderful memory of his Yoongi promising that he’d look after him being something that warmed his tummy in the cold night where he’d feel more alone than ever.

Yoongi nodded at his words, and smiled. “I remember. And that still stands,” he said. Immediately afterwards, however, he pointed something out that Jimin wasn’t necessarily ready to hear. “You’re worried about something. About whether or not you should tell me about it. And you’re afraid I’m going to yell at you if you say it,” he finished and that was a big part of his fears, yes.

However, the fact that Yoongi had noticed was a little weird and, more importantly, worrisome. If he’d noticed such a thing, what else had Yoongi realised? He needed to thread carefully around the topic; not because he didn’t trust Yoongi and what he’d do, but because Jimin didn’t feel emotionally ready for such a conversation. “Who are you and what have you done to Min Yoongi?” He joked, desperately trying to keep his cool in such a surprising situation. “The Yoongi I know is terrible at reading people.”

Yoongi just rolled his eyes. “You’re not ‘people’. You’re Jimin,” he stated. “My Jimin,” he declared. Somehow, Jimin really liked the way that sounded. Come to think of it, Yoongi had a really nice voice: a little husky, very soft, moderately deep without reaching the levels Taehyung’s voice reached. The nice voice snapped him out of his thoughts yet again. “I’d be the worst best friend in the world if I couldn’t see that something’s troubling you, wouldn’t I?” Yoongi asked with a raised eyebrow, the fact that he was trying to keep things lighthearted also evident in the way he spoke. After a moment in which Jimin didn’t answer, he added a small question. “So, what is it? I’m not going to yell.”

Determined to figure himself out, at least a little bit, Jimin shook his head and pulled away from Yoongi the smallest bit, eyes falling on his lap where his fingers fiddled with each other in nervous distress. “I can’t tell you, Yoongi,” he stated. Then, he clarified what he meant.“Not because I don’t want to. It’s because I am scared. And this is the type of thing you only talk about when you’re not scared or nervous. Otherwise, people get hurt,” Jimin finished and it wasn’t the best explanation, but it was good enough and that was the best he could do at the moment.

Quietly staring at him, Yoongi nodded. “You’re not ready to talk about it,” he confirmed. “Do you think you’ll be ready someday?”

“I hope so,” he said. He really did.

Yoongi gave him a big smile. “Okay, Jimin. I’ll be here when you’re ready, okay?” He said. “Until then, remember I’ll take care of you. Forever,” he finished, and the younger liked that it sounded like a promise.

With their eyes falling back on the screen, where Crash Bandicoot waited for them in suspended silence, Jimin noticed that his friend was about to hit ‘play’ when he got one last idea. And there was nothing weird with his request; on the contrary, they’d cuddle constantly and the fact that he craved physical contact would never be a surprise to Yoongi. However, the nature of their conversation still lingered in the room and thus, what was usually an innocent request was now charged with a different meaning. A more intimate one. Scared, Jimin gave in to his craving and spoke up.

“Can I have a hug?” He requested, voice coy and less confident than usual.

“Always,” hitting play, Yoongi moved so that Jimin could sit between his folded legs and soon, they were in a very comfortable embrace. Once they were both settled in their newfound positions, the older pointed vaguely at the small treats Jimin had brought over, some leftover cookies from last week that hadn’t hardened yet —thankfully— and were waiting to be devoured. There were only two left. “What did you say these were called, by the way?”

“Palmier.”

“It looks like a heart, don’t you think?” Yoongi observed. And yeah, they did. “How appropriate…” The older trailed off and that was just weird. Why had Yoongi said that? Jimin tried to squirm around, face his friend and question him about what he meant. But he couldn’t, Yoongi’s hold was tight around his waist and it was clear he didn’t want to talk about it. So, as Jimin gave up. “Nothing. Let’s just play,” Yoongi said, skilled fingers already bouncing around in the controller.

And Jimin’s brain was definitely playing tricks on him, because now he was certain that such a comment had to come from someone who felt the same way as he did.

Yoongi’s basketball game was somewhat uneventful. To be fair, Jimin hadn’t even remembered the older had a game until Yoongi knocked on his door and asked if he wanted to walk with him to the court. It was more of a small event than an actual tournament match, but it was engaging regardless.

Sure enough, Jimin had never known much about basketball —he was more of a soccer guy—, but through the years he’d picked up on some terminology and he knew enough about strategy to know when a team was good, and when it sucked. Granted, every team sucked when Yoongi was around, for that guy was a literal prodigy and his teammates were all really good themselves. Still, the fact that the other team was relatively good didn’t go unnoticed to Jimin and he even pushed himself to stand up and cheer for his team of preference, his voice often overpowering that of everyone else to the point that he even had to move to an empty set of bleachers.

But his focus was not on the game. It was not on the ball, or in the intricate positions each member of either team would take. No, his focus was entirely on Yoongi.

On the way he ran with ease, the way he’d move out of everyone’s reach before he took a shot, the way he’d seamlessly stole the ball from anyone who dared come close to him… It was funny to see how different Yoongi was when he played, in comparison with his relatively chill nature. From a silly jokester to a focussed professional, it was as enchanting as it was endearing to see how deeply his friend would devote himself to his passions and the things he loved.

And as Jimin watched Yoongi fly around the court in perfect harmony of his teammates, Jimin couldn’t avoid thinking about Yoongi as… as a partner. Not his partner, just in general. Yoongi had never really been in a relationship with anyone, so there wasn’t a lot of factual information to analyze, but if he was this devoted to a mere sport, there was no doubt in Jimin’s heart that his beloved best friend would be as invested and committed to any relationship he entered. Heck, even without being romantically involved, Yoongi already went above and beyond in the way he treated him. No doubt, he’d be the best boyfriend in the entire world and whoever his friend picked as a romantic interest would be the luckiest person in the world.

Of course, it wasn’t just Jimin who’d noticed such a fact. No. There were a lot of people who were interested in the always fascinating, very cool Min Yoongi, and the fact that there was an entire bleacher dedicated to all the boys and girls that admired him was enough evidence of the fact. And Jimin didn’t blame them: apparently he himself had fallen in love with Yoongi, so it was only natural that many others would find him attractive and lovely. If he wanted it, his friend would have absolutely no problems finding someone he liked, someone he wanted to maybe go on a date with and enjoy Valentine’s day with. There were all kinds of options, he just had to pick someone and go on about his day.

Despite having these thoughts, however, when the game was over and everyone was retreating to greet their friends and family members, the last thing he expected was for Yoongi to walk over to him. To snatch his bag of pretzels and take a big bite out of the sweet and salty treat, then look at him in the eyes with a contagious grin. “Hey Jimin? I figured out what I want you to do,” the older said, their unresolved promise finally reappearing in the younger’s mind again. Nodding to let his friend know that he remembered, Jimin watched as his beloved Yoongi wiped some sweat out of his forehead, then continued speaking. “I have to go to the doctor tomorrow, so how about we hang out on Monday?”

“Do you have any special plans?”

Yoongi immediately nodded. “Yup. I want you to teach me how to bake,” he said. Oh. Did he— Was he doing this because he knew Jimin had wanted that? A quick look at Yoongi’s sparkly eyes gave him the answer. No. Yoongi had planned this from the beginning, from the very moment Jungkook had suggested their race. “I’ve been putting it off because I’ve been studying a little so that I don’t embarrass myself, but I really want you to teach me how to bake something,” his best friend continued, and Jimin struggled to contain the tears that were threatening to leave his eyes. Was this the reason Yoongi kept putting it off?

“Really?” He asked, astonished, and Yoongi’s nod did nothing to dissuade his doubts. “But— But it’s Valentine’s day!” He exclaimed, eyes trailing to the very attentive bleacher full of Yoongi’s little fans. “Wouldn’t you like to go out with someone else?”

Yoongi’s face suddenly appeared in his field of vision to the point that it was all the shorter one could see. “Jimin. I’d take you over literally anyone else, silly,” he said. When the younger didn’t accept immediately, he sighed and smiled coyly. “Fine, let’s make this official then: Park Jimin, would you be my Valentine and go out on a baking date with me?” He said, and somewhere in his head Jimin could hear his heart stopping for a good three seconds. “We’d be hanging out at your house, but I promise it’s an actual date. We can eat sweets, watch a musical… I’ll even bring my guitar so I can play for you. How does that sound?” Yoongi continued.

Shocked, Jimin somehow managed to accept. “I— Okay, Yoongi,” he said, doubt very clear in his voice as he did it.

Yoongi didn’t miss the chance to tease him about it. “Don’t tell me you had plans with someone else,” he playfully stated, a dramatic gasp preceding his words and the light-hearted nature of the joke helped snap him out of his weird trance.

“No!” He immediately refuted, his loud voice catching the attention of anyone who was nearby. He spoke again, this time softer. “I… I wouldn’t spend that day with anyone else.”

“Then it’s a date!” Yoongi said with a wide, truly joyful smile. Taking Jimin’s pretzels with a wink, the always cool and popular Min Yoongi, his best friend, reached for Jimin’s hand and planted the most delicate, most intimate little peck on his knuckles. Withdrawing after a moment that was only long so that everyone else could see, Yoongi waved at him and started walking away. “I’ll see you at your house at three! Oh, and remember to dress nice and everything. It’s a date, after all,” he said. Reaching the entrance to the showers, Yoongi yelled one last thing. “See you, little one!”

And Jimin was left alone then, a single thought filling his mind like a very annoying alarm clock.

What was he going to wear?

The next day, Jimin spent the entire evening trying to pick out his outfit. ‘It’s just Yoongi’, he’d tell himself one moment, then he’d instantly remember what his friend had said about dressing nicely and he’d crumble down onto the floor. He’d literally called everyone he knew: Seokjin and his boyfriend Hoseok, his cousin Namjoon, his best online friend Taehyung and even the bratty Jungkook —whom he’d had to literally bribe with muffins so that he wouldn’t speak to his brother—. He’d asked everyone for advice, and even then he wasn’t happy about his final choice.

Comfy, black ripped jeans, with nothing special about them; a comfortable tank-top that fully covered his binder; a big, fluffy, off-the-shoulder pink sweater that made him feel like a teddy bear; and his trusty old converse high, the likes of which were a thousand times in better shape than Yoongi’s pair. It was a simple outfit, not too different from what he’d normally wear, which was where his jewelry came into play: bracelets, earrings, a couple necklaces and his favourite, cutest velvet choker. It was a straightforward, yet nice outfit. One that would hopefully match Yoongi’s own in terms of simplicity and huggability.

Or at least he hoped so, because he’d just returned all his clothes to their rightful place in his closet.

Jimin whined.

Three seconds. That was all the time that it took for Jimin to reach the front door as soon as he heard the soft knocking on the wooden surface. Really, he was impressed with himself and his speed and he knew it was all because he was nervous, but the fact that he was excited almost managed to bury the twisting sensation in his belly.

Opening the door widely, the first thing Jimin saw was the small, yet adorable bundle of red and white roses that Yoongi was carrying. Yoongi, who was on his phone in what appeared to be a funny interpretation of him being a delivery guy, a guitar case casually hanging in his back. “Flower delivery for a… What’s his name?” He said, eyeing his turned-off phone to add to his act. Jimin was already giggling. “Park Jimin! Where can I find this lovely little man?” The older finished, a gorgeous smile on his lips as his character started to crack.

Laughing, Jimin moved the flowers to the side a little so that he could give his friend a tight hug. “Yoongi! What are you doing?” He exclaimed amidst his giggles, enjoying the feeling of Yoongi’s comfortable black sweater as it enveloped him, a part of it brushing against his exposed shoulders. Yoongi looked good, his all-black outfit differing from his usual clothes by the fact that he was wearing a black dress shirt under the sweater. It was still rather casual, however, so Jimin managed to stop worrying over his clothes at last.

“Delivering flowers, of course,” came Yoongi’s answer as he pulled away from Jimin so that he could look at him properly. Blushing under his friend’s gaze, Jimin started swaying from side to side as he waited for the other to speak again. “Didn’t we say this was a date? There’s always flowers,” Yoongi pointed out after a moment. Then, polite as always, he gestured to the living room. “Can I come in?”

Jimin nodded, and stepped to the side. “Of course, silly,” he said, watching as the focus of his conflicting emotions left his guitar behind, then moved towards the kitchen, instinctively searching for a vase to place the flowers in. “What do you want to do first?”

Leaving the roses at last, Yoongi shot him an amused look. “Compliment you,” he stated matter-of-factly. “You look great, Jimin!”

The younger started laughing again. “Stop it!” He said, a tiny hand managing to land a soft blow to Yoongi’s shoulder. The older was quick to wrap him into a hug. “You look really good yourself, Yoongi,” he said from where he rested against the other’s wide chest, enjoying the smell of pines and freshly cut grass that emanated from the soft sweater; as soon as their ‘date’ was over, Jimin was going to steal that squishy wonder of a garment.

“Thank you, Jimin,” Yoongi said with a smile, moving them from side to side as if they were slow-dancing and the mere idea made Jimin blush. Damn it! Now he wanted to slow dance with Yoongi. Maybe if everything worked out fine, they could go to prom together. He could only dream. “So, I was thinking we could bake something first, then we could watch something fun and eat. What do you say?” The taller one said.

Without moving, Jimin nodded. “Sure. Sounds great,” he accepted. “Did you want to bake anything special?”

Yoongi immediately shook his head. “You’re the teacher. You choose,” he replied. “I know I said I’d been studying, but it was mostly some measurements; the whole cups, teaspoons and everything really confused me,” Yoongi continued, the idea of the older struggling to understand what a cup and a mug was being exceedingly amusing to Jimin. “I also made a few sugar cookies, but they ended up extra crispy. So I’m basically running blind here,” his friend finished.

Taking in the information, Jimin finally left the embrace —not that he wanted to—, and looked at the other in his eyes. He’d parted his hair, and he looked very handsome. “Okay. I was thinking we could make walnut kisses, then. They’re really sweet cookies, and they’re soft and easy to make,” he said, carefully containing the urge to drool at how good Yoongi looked.

If his friend noticed how much he was struggling, he didn’t say anything. “And they have walnuts,” Yoongi finished, a smile on his lips as he acknowledged that Jimin had picked that recipe because of how much Yoongi enjoyed dried fruits and nuts. “Okay, let’s do it, then!” Yoongi exclaimed enthusiastically.

And so, they got to work.

And to be fair, it wasn’t particularly hard to teach Yoongi how to make the cookies. The recipe he had picked was easy, after all, so after a few unfortunate mishaps in which Yoongi’s shirt ended up covered in flour they managed to pick a rhythm. Soon, they had the perfect dough ready for their sweet cookies and after forming a gazillion little balls, they placed them all in a few baking sheets that thankfully fit all inside Jimin’s oven at once.

It was then when Jimin realised that his feelings weren’t necessarily one-sided.

After cleaning himself up, Yoongi had fetched his guitar, mindlessly playing tune after tune and Jimin wasn’t oblivious enough that he’d ignore the fact that each of the songs were love songs. From the lyrics alone, the younger was slowly coming to the realisation that Yoongi was most definitely serenading him and if he wasn’t sure before, the way his friend looked at him was enough confirmation.

Debating with himself about how he should bring it up to the older, Jimin had finally gathered enough courage to ask about the songs when the timer ran out, and he had to rush to pull the cookies out of the oven. What unfortunate timing.

“Is it done?” Yoongi asked as he placed down his guitar, climbing down from the counter and promptly reaching Jimin’s side to help him place the trays atop the stove. Soon, they had transferred every little ball into a cooling tray and all that was left was for the cookies to harden and lose their warmth.

“Yup,” he answered as he threw his mits across the room. Watching as Yoongi tried to touch one of the cookies, Jimin grabbed his friend’s hand and instead started playing with the long digits. “Let them cool a little, they’re too warm to eat right now,” he said as he noticed Yoongi’s confused eyes, faintly falling into the realisation that he was pressed against the counter in an almost romantic way. Oh no, there went his imagination again… He quickly tried to focus on something else. “What do you think? Your first baking experience that doesn’t involve burning sugar cookies,” he said, unable to look anywhere but at Yoongi’s smiling face.

His friend immediately pretended to be offended. “Hey, I made a decent cake too!” He said. “This is much more successful though, I bet it’s even tastier,” Yoongi quickly added, reaching for one of the cookies —despite what Jimin had just said— and juggling it between his hands so that it wouldn’t burn him. Once he was safe from the imminent heat, he bit on the cookie as he grabbed Jimin’s hand again. Raising his eyebrows in pleasant surprise, he started talking again. “So, tell me. How would you say this date is going?”

Damn it! The topic Jimin had been trying to avoid! Short-circuiting for just a moment, the shorter quickly searching for an answer, anything in his brain to reply before settling for the blandest, most boring answer he could muster. “Uh, I don’t really have anything to compare it to, so I don’t know,” he said, inwardly cringing because if this really was a date, that wasn’t a particularly encouraging response.

Thankfully, Yoongi didn’t seem to mind. “If you can’t compare it to anything, then it means it’s the best date you’ve ever had, right?” He said, his ability to turn anything into something positive a trait the younger would always envy. When Jimin nodded shyly, Yoongi clapped for himself. “Good! I hope I can make the next one even better,” he said.

What? “Next one?”

Yoongi nodded happily. “The next one, yes,” he confirmed. “I might be getting ahead of myself here, but I’d really like to try this again. How about you?”

“Of course I’d like to,” Jimin answered immediately. “It’s just— Yoongi, am I misreading this?” He said. He needed to know if this was what it looked like: a romantic date. He needed to know if Yoongi was for real, if he was trying to woo Jimin into becoming something like— like boyfriends. If he truly loved him in a way that transcended the realms of friendship. He needed to know what Yoongi wanted of him, and if they were both on the same page about the whole thing.

And had it not been for his serious expression and tone, Jimin would’ve thought his friend was messing with him when he replied. “Depends on what you think it’s happening,” he said, the answer cryptic in a way that made it clear that it was up to the younger to clear everything up.

So, he did. “You asked me on a date because you wanted to, right?” He started, and received a short nod for an answer. “Because it’s Valentine’s day and you wanted to hang out with me,” he continued. Another nod. “Because you— Because you like me?” He finished. Smiling, Yoongi nodded one last time. There it was, his confirmation. One part of his brain lit up like Christmas lights, whereas the other still needed some confirmation. “But how? Why? We’ve been friends forever,” he pointed out, feeling his heartbeat in his ears as happiness started breaking the barrier of doubt and insecurity that had built up in the last couple months. All he needed was a little push, and Yoongi didn’t doubt in giving it to him.

“And I’ve liked you forever,” he said. As always, his answer was plain, blunt and to the point. Jimin felt like crying as soon as he heard those five words. “But you didn’t seem interested in me until around this time last year, and then I didn’t know how to deal with it. I bet you’ve been struggling with the revelation too,” Yoongi continued, once more showing why he was Jimin’s best friend: he knew him too well. “I saw you struggle and I figured a nice way to deal with it would be confirming that I feel the same way. Is it helping?” He trailed off.

Instead of answering, Jimin opted to ask some very important questions. “Does this mean we can go on dates?”

“Sure.”

“And hold hands?”

“Yup.”

“A-And kiss?” Jimin finished off, his excitement growing with each answer Yoongi gave him.

The next reply wasn’t any different. “We can kiss all you want, Jimin,” Yoongi finished with a tender smile. Then, he tilted his head to the side with a big smile and chuckled. “I’m guessing this is your way of saying you like this,” he said, and Jimin practically jumped on top of him in his joy.

“Of course I do!” He exclaimed, allowing for Yoongi to spin him around in the happiest hug of their lives. “You have no idea how happy I am!” He said.

Slowing down and putting him down at last, Yoongi leaned in and whispered something into his ear. “I’m happy too, Jimin,” he promised, then let out a shaky breath —from the physical exertion of spinning him around, no doubt— and made a simple, yet very important question. “Hey, Jimin? Is it okay if I kiss you?” He said.

And instead of answering, the shorter boy just moved and pulled the other into a kiss.

It was long and sweet and miserably inexperienced. To Jimin’s knowledge, this was both of their first kisses and it showed, for neither of them knew what to do at first. Sure, they both knew their lips needed to meet and then move around a little, but how much should they move? Was it okay that their noses brushed against each other awkwardly? Should he stick out his tongue? Was it Yoongi’s hair poking his eyelids or was it his own? So many questions, the type that no one could really teach people about since it depended solely on experience and this was their absolute first.

No doubt, it was far from a perfect first kiss for each other, but as they moved around to the best of their abilities, Jimin reached the conclusion that there was no perfect first kiss for anyone. Whas was perfect, to begin with? An experienced smooch? Or whatever funny dance they had going on? For what is worth, he knew he was really enjoying it. The closeness to one another, the way Yoongi’s hands held him with such force and delicacy at once —the same odd mixture he used to hold his pencils—, the way Yoongi’s messy hair felt between his fingers and the overwhelming warmth that still irradiated from the now empty oven.

And the smell! The mixture of Yoongi’s cologne and that of the kitchen was a wonderful thing. One part fresh and musky, the other warm and homey: the perfect blend between the different smells that reached Jimin’s little nose, the tip of which kept brushing against Yoongi’s round and soft cheek.

Speaking of smell, perhaps the most fascinating thing about their kiss was the taste. It was hard to place it, as there was something familiar and something unfamiliar to it and Jimin’s brain was split between understanding them both. The unfamiliar taste —which he got from Yoongi’s lips and the inside of his mouth the brief three seconds that he dared venture inside— was most definitely what Yoongi himself tasted like. It was odd, but pleasant in a way and he really liked it. The familiar taste, however, was a mixture of sugar, vanilla and… and walnuts.

Jimin was tasting the cookies they’d baked together in Yoongi’s lips.

And there was nothing funny about that. Not inherently at least. But perhaps his earlier worries and the euphoria of learning his friend also loved him had combined into an interesting bomb in the search of catharsis, and the realisation that he was taste-testing his cookies —called walnut kisses, no less— in the middle on a kiss was all it took for the bomb to explode into a cloud of confetti and flower petals.

Soon, the urge to laugh out loud overtook him completely and he really didn’t want to break the kiss, but the joy he was feeling was too much to ignore and even if it had only been around ten seconds since they started kissing, Jimin felt like he needed to let it all out. And he did, smiling into the kiss before pulling away, loud, blissful laughter leaving his lips and tears clinging to his eyelashes as he threw himself onto Yoongi. Sure enough, for a good half minute he couldn’t see anything, say anything, and all he could really do was paw at Yoongi’s sweater in a quiet ‘I’m okay’ message, the fact that Yoongi was also laughing with him unable to go unnoticed to his happy little heart.

Desperately clinging to his dearest Yoongi, it took him a few more seconds to be able to open his eyes. And when he did, he was greeted by the sight of the beautiful Min Yoongi. Who was sweet and kind and who had for some reason fallen in love with him.

“Why are you laughing?” Yoongi asked slowly, squinting his eyes as a funny smile took over his lips. As if he expected Jimin to be messing with him, the quiet promise of a prank palpable in the air. For good or for bad, however, that was not what was happening here. When Jimin failed to answer —too busy giggling and holding his tummy for dear life—, the older added a semi-worried question. “Did I mess up?”

Quickly shaking his head, Jimin hiccuped as he wrapped his arms around Yoongi’s neck. “Nope,” he said, nose pressed against the other’s as to reinforce his message. Once he had mostly controlled his bubbling laughter, he finally answered the questions. “You just taste like walnuts and sugar,” he said, a giggle shaking his body as he did it.

Understanding what was happening, Yoongi rolled his eyes and smiled. “And you taste like strawberry,” he immediately pointed out. Soon, however, his gentle smile turned into that of pure evil. He let go of Jimin. “Which tells me you have strawberries you’ve been hiding from me, which means you have exactly ten seconds to hide before I tickle you to death,” he announced. What? He wasn’t actually going to— “One,” his… boyfriend? His whatever started counting. Oh no, he was actually for real.

“Yoongi, no!” Jimin said, unwilling to believe that his gentle, cute best friend and now partner would fulfil such a terrible promise.

The older’s grin widened as he spoke again. “Two,” he said, the menacing sound of his soft voice sending shivers down Jimin’s back. Was there a way to stop this? He had no idea, too frozen in fear to even more away from the other. And that’s where he had the brilliant idea! If he couldn’t move away from Yoongi to save himself, he’d move closer to stop his mean, mean boyfriend from fulfilling his threat. “Thre—” The taller started, word cut off by the sweet peck Jimin planted on his lips. Did he have to ask for permission every time he kissed Yoongi? He doubted it, they were a couple now and couples didn’t ask for permission every time. Feeling as Yoongi melted into the kiss, the younger was more than satisfied when he felt the other sigh and pull away, his expression indicating nothing but playful defeat. “Fine, you win,” Yoongi said, tone betraying his words as it was clear he was enjoying everything as much as Jimin. With a head gesture, Yoongi pointed towards the TV. “Let’s go watch something, okay Jimin?”

“Okay, Yoongi!” Jimin exclaimed in response.

Everything was okay now, and life had never been as sweet.

THE END.