Chapter Text
It was on a Sunday morning that Jimin met the love of his life.
He was standing behind the counter of the little café he had started working at this summer, absentmindedly polishing one of the new glasses that shimmered in a subtle pink and scanning the few customers that occupied the dark wooden tables. It was unusually quiet since many of Seoul’s students had already gone home for the winter break, the café filled with the calming hum of hushed conversations and the subtle clinking of dishes.
Contrary to the forecast the weather was nice, the sun bright despite the cold winter air, the giant windows illuminating the café in a soft, golden light. From his place behind the counter, Jimin could observe the busy street out front, filled with passing cars and people huddling close to escape the chill. The last lonely leaves tumbled gracefully to the ground in the soft breeze, ships sailing through the air. They served as a reminder that autumn was long gone. Already, Jimin had started wearing the fuzzy hat his mother had sent him when hearing about Seoul’s exceptionally cold winters, and he made a mental note to unpack his winter jacket as well.
The café itself, however, was warm and cosy, a nice contrast to the way his hands never really seemed to warm up anymore. It smelled of freshly brewed coffee and sweet cakes, of wood and home. It was peaceful in a way that Jimin had been craving lately. The last few months had been brutally busy, leaving him swamped in between the final exams of the semester and his two part-time jobs, struggling desperately to keep up with both classes and rent. To say he had been relieved after handing in the last of his assignments was an understatement. It was as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders and he could finally, finally, breathe again. After all this, the café had become a refuge to him, a corner of the world where nothing bad, nothing unexpected ever happened. Jimin had no idea how wrong he was.
At exactly sixteen minutes past twelve, the door to the café burst open and a boy stumbled into the room, apologizing profusely, and rushing to close it behind him as quickly as possible. It was not just any boy, though. It was, in fact, the most beautiful boy Jimin had ever seen, and he had seen plenty of them. Perfect actors, with faces too symmetrical to be natural. The delicate boy with the dark curls in his performance class, who made a habit of pushing up his glasses with a pen and cutely scrunching his nose at particularly hard questions. His childhood friend with hooded dark eyes, who had been named the most attractive student at their university two years in a row. Hell, he even worked for Seokjin, who claimed the title “most handsome man on earth” for himself.
So yes, Jimin had seen attractive men before, had even developed a crush or two. He was used to fading into the background, to pining pathetically from a distance, all the while knowing they were so far out of his league, he shouldn’t even think about liking them. He thought he had made his peace with it. But this boy, this boy, still managed to take his breath away, punched it out of him with every step he took towards the counter and swallowed it whole. And Jimin was helpless in the face of it, body and mind frozen still, a deer caught in the headlights.
The boy seemed at least a few years older than him, his dark brown hair shimmering golden in the warm light of the café. He was wearing a blue scarf and a matching hat against the cold, his brightly coloured jacket complimenting his lean figure and at the same time contrasting his skin in a way that caused it to glow faintly. Jimin could make out the name of expensive brands and swallowed thickly. Those jeans were probably worth a whole month of his salary. However, the boy didn’t seem like one of those arrogant, entitled rich kids that snickered disdainfully whenever Jimin walked past. Instead, this boy looked like someone who would share his breakfast with a dog he found on the street, like someone that would carry an older ladies’ bag, like someone who would stop mid-sentence to avoid cursing in front of a child. This boy looked like someone so inherently good, that Jimin immediately wanted to be more like him.
The boy was only a few steps away from the counter when Jimin noticed something else. He moved with an ease and gracefulness that Jimin had only ever seen in dancers before, his movements fluid and elegant. At the sight of his hips swinging effortlessly, Jimin felt his hands start to sweat and he had to wipe them hurriedly on his apron.
“Hi”, the boy finally said, rubbing his hands together adorably to chase away the cold. Jimin wanted to shriek, wanted to dance behind the counter. Even his voice sounded perfect; low and soothing it travelled right into Jimin’s chest. “Can I get a…”, the boy quickly scanned the menu that hung behind the counter. Jimin swallowed heavily. “Can I get a medium-sized cappuccino, please?”
And then he smiled. Holy fuck, he smiled.
Had Jimin thought him beautiful before, he was left speechless at the sight of it. His smile stretched impossibly wide across his lips, deep dimples appearing in the corners of his mouth. His eyes crinkled cutely at the edges, almost disappearing under the force of it. It was blindingly bright, and gorgeous, and Jimin wanted to melt into the ground to never reappear. He was convinced that even on a freezing winter day such as this, the boy’s smile had the power to warm the coldest hearts and melt snow in but a second. His own cheeks certainly felt treacherously hot.
“Y…yeah”, he answered, mentally hitting himself for stuttering. The last thing he wanted was to make a fool of himself. “Anything else you want?”
“Nah, that’s it”, the boy said with his dimples still on full display. Did he ever stop smiling? “To go, please.”
“Of course. Can I…. can I get your name”, Jimin asked, his heart beating so painfully fast in his chest, that he feared it would burst through his ribs.
“Sure”, the boy answered amicably his fingers drumming a distant beat on the countertop. “It’s Hoseok.”
“Hoseok”, Jimin repeated weakly, his fingers shaking treacherously as he scribbled the name on the coffee cup.
Hoseok, it seemed, was the embodiment of the sun and Jimin, clumsy Jimin who had always resembled an awkward autumn breeze that left the world in shivers, was well and truly fucked.
~~~
Amazingly, Hoseok continued to come. At first, he only visited briefly, leaving just as fast as he entered the café and taking his order, always a medium-sized cappuccino, with him. He never turned up at the same time of day, leaving Jimin to wait anxiously until the other finally shuffled inside, his hands hidden deep in his pockets and his nose cutely red from the cold. It was torturous, as Jimin could not stop himself from sending constant longing glances in the direction of the door, only to be disappointed time and time again. Every stranger seemed to look like the Hoseok, every passer-by seemed to wear his clothes and there was no way Jimin could control his heart.
It had been years since he had felt that strongly about someone, hell, it was the first time he felt that strongly about someone period, even though he had not exchanged more than a few awkwardly rushed words with Hoseok. What can I get you today? It is very cold, isn’t it? He mulled over each conversation, analysed every smile and crinkle in the older boy's eyes.
Hoseok had taken over his mind by storm and there was no space left in it to think about anything else. Was it love at first sight, he asked himself cautiously while drying used cups, while wiping the tables, while cleaning the windows. Are we meant to be, he wondered while washing his hands, while walking home in the dark of the night, while lying down to sleep. He had been alone for a long time. Maybe fate had decided to change that.
Two weeks later, Hoseok called Jimin by his name by then, the older boy started to bring his laptop and instead of taking his coffee with him, spend hours upon hours hunched over papers full of indecipherable scribbles and the glaringly bright screen of his device. He always occupied the same table, huddled in a corner of the room close to the bright windows.
Jimin could not help but sneak glances at his messy bangs and the concentrated frown on his forehead. It had gotten far enough for his co-worker to reprimand him when he continued pouring milk into an overflowing cup just because the light caught Hoseok’s flawless face in a particularly pretty way. Jimin had turned an embarrassingly bright shade of red then but did not learn his lesson. Hoseok was truly beautiful, in every sense of the word, and Jimin particularly enjoyed watching him work. Even though he still had no idea what it was that he did, he appreciated the sense of purpose that surrounded Hoseok when he concentrated on something so fully. Gone were his dimples, his carefree manner, replaced by tightly controlled energy and pinched lips. Hoseok looked older this way, more powerful. Jimin envied him, sometimes.
On a Thursday, Hoseok had been sipping on his coffee for about an hour by then and Jimin was trying to work up the courage to offer him a new one, a blond boy entered the café. His hair was obviously bleached, surrounding his face like a halo. He was short, his body swallowed completely by a giant black hoody. Jimin could make out the name of a band written across the chest. When the boy turned his head to survey the room, his long, silver earrings jingled.
“Hey, how can I…”, Jimin started, ready to take the boy’s order.
“Hoseok-ah”, the boy shouted instead, causing quite a few heads to turn. When the boy in question did not answer, he walked over to the other’s table. Jimin observed the boy’s hand on Hoseok’s shoulder, how his crush’s eyes widened with pleasant surprise. Something angry and hot started to churn in his gut, and he had no problem recognising it as jealousy. His fists clenched at his sides. “Hoseok-ah”, the boy continued, his hand still resting on the other’s shoulder. Jimin wanted to shove him. “We were supposed to meet the others half an hour ago. Did you forget?”
“Half an hour ago”, Hoseok stammered and quickly grabbed for his phone to check the time. His face paled. “Shit…, shit, I didn’t realize it was three already. Can we still make it?”
“Of course”, the boy chuckled lightly, clapping Hoseok on the back. “They wouldn’t start without us now, would they?”
Hoseok breathed a sigh of relief and hazardly gathered his things, shooting Jimin a strangely apologetic smile as the two left the café in a hurry. Jimin could hear the strange boy scolding: “You shouldn’t overwork yourself, Hoseok-ah. You know how much we worry about you.”
He found himself staring after them for a long time, his heart constricting painfully in his chest, his mind circling around only one thought. Hoseok had a boyfriend.
~~~
“Jimin-ah.”
Jimin was washing the dishes, the hot water burning his skin a welcome distraction. For weeks now, he had watched helplessly as the blond boy came to pick up Hoseok with hands in his pockets and a casual swing in his steps. For weeks he had witnessed Hoseok’s face lighting up, knowing he was not the one causing it. His mood was consequently poor. He tried telling himself that he was glad Hoseok had someone who took care of him, someone who liked him enough to watch his health. He repeated the words over and over, but to no avail. Without wanting to, his eyebrows furrowed whenever Hoseok’s boyfriend entered the café, and his lips pitched in disdain.
One time, he had clenched his fists so hard, that a glass had shattered in his grasp. He had ignored the concerned looks of his co-workers in favour of nervously checking whether his clumsiness had been noticed, but by that time Hoseok had been long gone. The stinging of the little cuts on his fingers was nothing compared to the sharp pain in his chest.
Even worse, the heavy feeling of hopelessness and hurt also followed him home. Jimin lay awake at night, tossing and turning without sleeping more than one pitiful hour at a time. When he washed his face with ice-cold water in the morning, the dark circles underneath his eyes contrasted grotesquely with the paleness of his skin in the stark bathroom light. He noticed how his clothes suddenly hung loosely around his frame, his weight always the first thing to suffer under his restless mind. His thoughts felt muddled, his movements slow as if he was wading through an ocean no one but him could see.
The children at the dance studio had noticed, asking him innocently if he felt ill. One of the little girls had even brought him a piece of chocolate and Jimin had to swallow tears at the sight of her tiny hands clutching the colourful wrapping with so much hope in her eyes. As if chocolate was enough to patch up his battered heart. Jimin was sure that Jin had also sensed his worsening condition. Against all expectations, the sometimes aloof and ridiculous owner of the café was quite perceptive when it came to matters of health and heart. Jimin was glad his hyung seemed too polite to address the problem. Or so he had thought.
“Jimin-ah”, a voice said too close to his ear. Jimin flinched so hard he almost dropped the cup he had been cleaning.
“Hyung”, he admonished, trying to calm his erratic breathing. He turned to see the owner of the café standing next to him, hands on his hips, a look of gentle chiding on his face. The ridiculously pink apron clashed horribly with the yellow sweater he was wearing.
Jin was older than Jimin, having studied drama at university only to open his own coffee shop in Seoul. He said he liked the people, the city and most of all being his own boss. I’ve been following the plans other people have for my future long enough. Not to mention that Jin’s boyfriend of seven years, a music producer called Namjoon, was the most enthusiastic coffee addict Jimin had ever met. Jin looked young despite his age, was easy to be around despite being Jimin’s hyung and was always up for fun. Not a day passed without him cracking embarrassing jokes or pulling hilarious expressions at employees and customers alike. Jimin secretly suspected most of their regulars only came for the handsome owner to brighten their day.
Namjoon, however, was the exact opposite. Where Jin was all childish joy and goofy expressions, Namjoon was serious and deliberate, always moving with thought. Where Jin was loud, Namjoon was quiet, a knowing smile on his lips while watching his partner dance around the café. Where Jin was brash, Namjoon was thoughtful, every word carefully calculated. They fit together like puzzle pieces, destined to be like one of those couples in the movies Jimin liked to watch. He envied them their happiness, their careless ease around each other crafted by years of hardship and familiarity. Their soft teasing and surety of their place in life. Where he himself was lost and adrift, Namjoon and Jin stood firmly rooted, unshakable like trees. Jimin owed them much, especially Jin, for taking him in when he desperately needed the money. For lifting his mood with silly jokes and wise words.
Now, however, Jin looked almost stern and Jimin could feel dread tingling in his stomach.
“Jimin-ah”, Jin repeated and leaned slightly forward. He reminded Jimin of his grandmother’s exasperated reaction whenever his dad spilt food at the table. He was not going to tell Jin that. At least not now. “You seem distracted lately, huh. I’ve seen you spacing out and you look tired. Anything you want to tell me?”
“No, hyung. I’m sorry I’ve been slacking off.” Jimin hung his head in shame. He hated not rising up to others’ expectations, hated the feeling of being small and inadequate, something that was not worth other people’s time. He also truly liked Jin and enjoyed his work at the café. The thought that he had not been doing a great job filled him with dread.
“Jimin-ah, we’ve known each other long enough for you to know that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m worried about you. Are you stressed? Do you want me to cut your shifts?”
“No”, Jimin almost shouted, raising panicked eyes to stare at his hyung’s face. He found only gentle concern there. “No”, he repeated more calmly. “I’m not stressed at all. Exams are over, hyung, you know that. I was actually looking forward to taking up more shifts if you’d let me.”
“What else could it be, though”, Jin asked, crossing his arms and tilting his head in thought. His dark brown eyes fixed inquisitively on Jimin’s smaller form, and the younger could have sworn they stared into his very soul. He was suddenly very aware of the way Jin towered over him, of how he had to raise his head slightly to look at the taller man. “I can tell something’s been bothering you. Won’t you tell hyung what’s wrong, Jimin-ah?”
Jimin shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, wringing his hands with nervousness. Could he really? He had known Jin for a while now and was sure his hyung wouldn’t judge him. However, Jin was also his boss and Jimin didn’t want to give him any more reason to find him lacking. After all, it was just a stupid crush, right? Definitely not pleasant when unrequited, but also only temporary.
“I don’t…, I’m not sure…”, he started anxiously, his gaze flickering through the room to land on anything but the older. Instead, he focused on the dark shelves that bend dangerously under the ingredients Jin used for baking, under dishes and coffee. There were pictures on the wall, of company dinners and Jin’s travels, of his and Namjoon’s dogs. He even scanned over the recipe for a new cake that was scrawled across their blackboard.
“Jimin-ah”, Jin said calmly, using one hand to tilt Jimin’s face up while the other rested affectionately on his shoulder. His gaze was open and earnest, and Jimin decided then and there to send all politeness to hell. “You know you can tell hyung anything, right?”
“There…, there’s someone I like, hyung”, Jimin said and could see the exact moment his words registered in Jin’s mind. The older started to grin immediately, his hands clapping together in excitement. It was moments like these that Jimin struggled to comprehend his hyung had turned thirty earlier this year.
“Oh, Jimin-ah, that’s wonderful”, he exclaimed, and his smile could have lit up a Christmas tree.
“Tell me all about them”, he demanded and pulled out a chair, the wood scraping angrily against the floor.
“It’s this guy, hyung. He’s been coming to the café regularly and he has the cutest smile in the world”, he began, and Jin nodded along eagerly. “He comes here to work but I haven’t really spoken to him much. He has dimples, though, hyung.”
“Aww”, Jin cooed, and his eyes shone with childish joy. “He sounds like a good one. You know how much I love Joonie’s dimples.”
“I know, hyung. I can’t stop myself thinking about him, and he’s here a lot so I’m having trouble focusing on work but…”
“But”, Jin prompted.
“But he has a boyfriend”, Jimin whispered, his excitement vanishing like a candle being blown out.
“Oh, Jimin-ah”, Jin sighed and Jimin could see pity on his face. His heart clenched in his chest and he could feel traitorous tears gather in his eyes. “Are you sure he does?”
“I mean, there’s this guy that picks him up every day”, Jimin said, lowering his eyes to the table. “They seem pretty close.”
“Why don’t you ask him”, Jin proposed gently. Jimin flinched.
“Ask him on a date”, he exclaimed incredulously. Had Jin not heard him say Hoseok had a boyfriend?
“Why not”, Jin asked and took Jimin’s smaller hands in his. Jin’s hands were broad and engulfed them completely and Jimin felt weirdly protected, shielded from the world and its hurt. “If I’ve learned one thing in this life, it’s that communication is key. Humans can’t possibly understand each other without talking. We’re too complicated for that. So ask him about it. Maybe he doesn’t have a boyfriend. Maybe he does. He’ll take it as a compliment either way.” He paused for a moment as if to gather his thoughts and then continued with a smirk: “You’re too cute for anyone not to like you, Jimin-ah. Have a little faith in yourself.”
When Jimin blushed, Jin only winked at him.
~~~
The next day, Jimin was practically buzzing with nervous energy. The conversation with Jin had left him thinking, lying awake all night while imagining one hypothetical situation after the other. What if Hoseok’s boyfriend was the jealous type and got violent? What if Hoseok was straight and disgusted by Jimin’s feelings? What if he made a fool of himself and ended up being laughed at? What if the older stopped coming to the café altogether and Jimin never got to see him again? What if, what if, what if.
After three hours of tossing and turning sleeplessly between his sheets, unable to calm his racing heart, Jimin decided to go for it. He had never risked anything before, at least not in the romantic sense. He had never been the one to ask other people out, had never gone on a date with anyone he hadn’t known for at least three months in advance. But now, now he wanted to break all these ridiculous rules. He suspected that the high fences he had built around his heart, which were designed to keep him safe, only succeeded in shutting out the world - and by extent, Hoseok.
“You should tell your boyfriend to get one”, Jimin said with a calmness in his voice he did not feel when he saw Hoseok eying the latte menu behind the counter instead of ordering his usual cappuccino. Underneath the pleasant smile he had plastered on, his heart was doing somersaults in his chest. “A caramel latte”, he clarified after seeing Hoseok’s confused frown. “I’m sure he’d like it. They’re to die for.”
Like your smile, he thought, and immediately wanted to smack himself across the head. Patience, Jimin, he silently whispered to the sound of blood rushing through his ears.
“Boyfriend”, Hoseok repeated with such a bewildered look on his face, that Jimin felt a surge of relief so powerful rise in his stomach, that it almost knocked him off his feet.
“The cute blond that comes to get you every day”, he insisted. “Small, always wears a hoody?”
“Cute blond? What are you…”, suddenly Hoseok looked almost affronted, his eyes wide like saucers, mouth pulled into a comical o-shape. “Yoongi? You… you mean Yoongi”, his voice was shrill now, a little panicked. “He’s, no, why would you even… I mean… he’s Yoongi”. Hoseok huffed an embarrassed laugh and Jimin had never felt happier. His life was amazing, he was a god. He was sure that if he bought a ticket right now, he would even win the lottery.
After a deep breath, Hoseok said with a self-deprecating smile: “Yoongi is my flatmate. We’ve been living together since high school. And I’m not sure he would like the lattes. He only drinks coffee as dark as his clothes.” Hoseok winked, winked, at Jimin, and continued: “I don’t… There is no boyfriend.”
“Good”, Jimin said with a confidence that must have come from the three cups of americano he had downed this morning to calm his fragile heart. And Hoseok. Hoseok blushed.
At the same time, something equally as miraculous happened. As Jin emerged from the door leading to the kitchen as well as the storage rooms of the café, looking ridiculous as ever in the fluffiest neon green sweater Jimin had ever seen and wearing a red bow in his hair, it is Christmas season after all, Jimin-ah, all the while balancing a concerning number of plates and cups, he shouted: “Hoseok-ah!”
Jimin’s eyes widened at the sound of his crush’s name falling from his boss’s lips. His head started spinning with how fast he whipped around to gauge Hoseok’s reaction. The earth was tilting beneath his feet and he had to grab the edge of the counter for balance. “You know each other?”
“Of course we do”, Jin laughed and rounded the counter to wrap his right arm around Hoseok’s shoulder and pull him into a side hug, a loose and comfortable thing that spoke of familiarity and friendship. “Hoseok is one of Joonie’s best friends, and one of my favourite dongseangs! I’ve probably known him for longer than you’ve been out your pampers.”
A trademark wink, and Jimin blushed furiously.
“Hyung, don’t tease him”, Hoseok chided with an exasperated smile while sneaking his own arm around Jin’s surprisingly slim waist. “Some days, you really are a menace to society.”
“You’ve got it all wrong, Hob-ah”, Jin retorted smoothly and grinned, exposing lines of perfectly straight teeth. “I am a gift to the world.” Despite the bravado his hyung displayed, Jimin could spot his ears turning bright red underneath his dark hair.
“Sure you are”, Hoseok laughed quietly, fondly. There was something suspiciously similar to butterflies fluttering weakly in Jimin’s stomach at the sound of it. This really was turning into a teenager's crush.
“What are you doing here, though, Hoseok-ah? I was under the impression you think, and I quote, coffee is the most disgusting thing on this planet and whoever drinks it is part of a conspiracy against me?”
Jimin couldn’t help but snort at that and watched with glee as Hoseok blushed adorably and ran his hand through his hair in embarrassment. Through his very fluffy, gorgeous hair. The movement caused a single strand to fall into his eyes and Jimin had to physically restrain himself from reaching over the counter and brushing it back.
“I guess you’ve got to thank Yoongi-hyung for that. I swear, that guy has caffeine flowing through his veins and he doesn’t accept any other drinks in the house. I even had to give up on my matcha smoothies.”
“About time”, Jin chuckled and patted Hoseok’s shoulder. “I’ve been pestering you for years to quit that stuff. It’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever had the misfortune to taste.” He said it with an expression of such suffering on his face, that Jimin couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
“By the way”, Jin said to Hoseok, pointing at Jimin who was currently clutching at his stomach, doubled over with laughter, “have you had the pleasure of meeting my incredibly cute but rude barista yet? Say hi to Jimin-ah.”
Jimin gave an awkward wave, still struggling to catch his breath, as Hoseok fixed his chocolaty brown eyes on him.
“I already know Jimin, hyung. I’ve been coming to your café quite a lot these days.”
“Have you now”, Jin inquired and fixed them both with a suspicious yet knowing look. “I see. Hob-ah, we really have to work on your manners. Here you’ve been, in my café, drinking my coffee, without even once thinking of saying hi. Really, I thought I’d done a better job raising you.”
“You didn’t raise me, hyung, you…”
“Clearly”, Jin courtly dismissed Hoseok’s explanation. “Now, Jimin-ah, I’ve been meaning to ask you. We’re having a get-together at Namjoon’s next Saturday. It’s going to be me, Namjoon, of course, Hoseok here and his flatmate Yoongi. Bring friends if you want. And wear something nice. We’re having dinner. Proper dinner, which will involve wine and civilized conversations. And”, here he fixed his stare on Hoseok, “no hangovers.”
With that, the older boy disappeared back into the storage room without sparing them another look. Jimin huffed out a breath of air that might’ve been a chuckle, might’ve been a sigh. “I guess I’ll see you on Saturday then. Same as always?”
“Yeah.” When Hoseok left the café two hours later, Jimin’s eyes followed him, mind buzzing with the anticipation of finally meeting the other outside of work, of maybe even having a proper conversation with him. He would have to ask Taehyung to pick his outfit. Hell, he would have to ask his best friend to accompany him. And Jungkook. Jungkook had to come, too. He only turned his head away when he noticed Jin watching him curiously.
“Oh”, the older mumbled softly, and Jimin could see the slow realization in his eyes. His gaze flickered between Hoseok’s disappearing form and Jimin. “Oh.”
Jimin couldn’t decipher the look in his hyung’s eyes. He thought it might have been pity.