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Yoongi is 100% sure that he hates the beach.
And no, it’s not because of that one time his cousin thought it would be a good idea to take him to a nudist beach when he was eleven (what they were thinking to this day, Yoongi still has no fucking clue).
Okay, so maybe it is, but Yoongi’s white-as-snow skin is sensitive as fuck and he doesn’t really fancy looking like a sun dried tomato (Yoongi’s read over twenty-three articles about what the sun can do to one’s skin – a.k.a. cause premature wrinkling – and nope, Yoongi’s not taking any chances). But somehow, Yoongi’s good-for-nothing roommate Hoseok has managed to drag him out of his bedroom, despite Yoongi continuously informing Hoseok that no, going to the beach in the middle of winter is not a good idea, no matter how dire the situation (“Hyung, trust me, thirty minutes at the beach isn’t going to ruin your beautiful mayonnaise skin, okay?”).
All Yoongi had wanted to do was lie in bed and somehow wrap his head around the fact that he has to work with the biggest idiot known to mankind (honestly, Yoongi congratulates himself every day for not fly-kicking Namjoon in the face every time he spouts some philosophical bullshit Yoongi has no time for) and pet their shared cat, Baguette (“Hyung, hyung, what about ‘Baguette’? Can you imagine?! Oui, oui, baguette!”). Yoongi had all but lain down for two seconds before Hoseok came bursting into his bedroom, their enormously overweight cat clutched tightly in his arms.
“Good afternoon, sunshine!” Hoseok had brightly exclaimed, petting their purring feline.
Yoongi hadn’t even bothered to reply, instead opting to ignore Hoseok by shoving his earphones in his ears. Hoseok, unperturbed by Yoongi’s rudeness had all but yanked off his headphones, casting them aside carelessly, plopping himself down onto Yoongi’s bed, dumping an overindulgent cat on his stomach.
“Get your lazy ass up, Yoongi. We’re overdue for our fortnightly ‘family bonding session’. Baguette’s been restless waiting for his daddy to come home. Haven’t you Baggy? Haven’t you? Yes you have! Yes you have!”
Yoongi wasn’t sure whether to be more disturbed at the word ‘daddy’ coming out of Hoseok’s mouth, or the vomit-inducing gushy voice that Hoseok reserves especially for their cat (and a mortified Yoongi at times).
Hoseok had started their fortnightly ‘family bonding sessions’ three years ago, when he bought Baguette. Yoongi had come home, only to be bowled over by an overexcited Hoseok with an extremely bored-looking and sleepy kitten cradled in his arms. Hoseok, determined to make Yoongi like what was essentially Yoongi in animal form, had insisted on creating a ‘family bonding session’ (“hyung, we’re like a family now! Look at us, two proud daddies with their new baby!”) in order for Yoongi to get to know their cat.
And that’s how Yoongi finds himself shivering at the beach (Yoongi is still unable to wrap his head around the fact that Hoseok chose to go to the fucking beach in the middle winter) two hours later for their ‘family bonding session’, with Hoseok and Baguette nowhere to be seen. He knows that he’s a sight to behold; a shivering mess with his eyebrows furrowed so angrily together he’s convinced that he’s 60% on the way to becoming the tinier, angrier version of Anthony Davis.
“Let’s go to the beach Yoongi,” he mutters to himself angrily, kicking over some pebbles, whilst attempting a poor mimic of Hoseok’s excited voice. “It’s going to be fun, Yoongi. But the moment we get here I’m going to fucking ditch you and run off with Baguette and leave you stranded on the beach without a fucking phone, Yoongi. Did I mention it was going to be fun, Yoongi?”
Yoongi’s aware that he’s being petty (Hoseok is the famous for being the only person in the entire world capable of pushing all of Yoongi’s buttons and bringing out the worst in him). It’s not his fault that Baguette had run off the moment she’d set her slightly overweight paws on the sand (Yoongi wonders how a cat that weighs roughly the size of a small child can run so fucking fast), and Hoseok had sprinted after Baguette, his arms flailing wildly (“Baguette, you beautiful, adorable piece of shit! Come back to your daddy right now!”), leaving Yoongi standing alone awkwardly with a cat leash clutched in his hand. Yoongi also supposes it’s not exactly Hoseok’s fault that Yoongi refuses to do anything that involves sweating and moving his body around too much (with the exception of sex, of course. Yoongi’s about 79% sure that he’s a nympho).
So instead, Yoongi takes to grumbling and muttering to himself while he wanders around the beach miserably. After a while, Yoongi wonders to himself if he’s destined to live on this beach for the rest of his life, like some Lord of the Flies shit where he’ll go crazy and start gnawing on his own arm. He just wants to fucking find his useless roommate and their even more useless pet and get the fuck home so he can continue to live his life in perpetual grumpiness. (Hoseok once told him that Yoongi’s constantly grouchy state reminded him of old men who sat on their front lawn wearing ratty singlets, shaking their fists at children who ran across their lawn; too bitter and filled with regret to do anything but yell at small children. Yoongi ignored Hoseok for two weeks.)
Yoongi’s 91% sure that he’s been lost for a solid three hours now (it’s actually been seventeen minutes), and he’s starting to get plain annoyed now. He mutters profanities to himself, cursing Hoseok to hell and back, as he wanders along the beach. The brutal weather has turned the water into a dark, choppy mess, and even from where Yoongi is standing, the waves look menacing. The waves crash angrily against each other, and Yoongi shivers, drawing his parka around him closer. He’s contemplating going back to the car and waiting by the car until Hoseok decides to grace him with his presence, when something stops him in his tracks.
No, not something.
Someone.
Yoongi squints against the harshness of the wind that whips around him, cocking his ear to the side as he listens carefully. If he listens carefully, he can just make out the words of someone singing the stupidest song he’s ever fucking heard in his entire life.
“I don’t know if you can see, I kinda really need to pee. I don’t know if it’s been told, buried in the sand is getting old. I don’t know if it’s been said, Jeon Jeongguk is fucking dead.”
What the fuck?
The unknown person repeats the stupidest rhyme (song?) that has ever graced Yoongi’s ear over and over again, and Yoongi wishes that he had enough energy to sprint into the ocean and drown himself to save him from listening to any more of this stupid song. Feeling like this day couldn’t get any weirder, he follows the voice (he has half a mind to chew out whoever’s singing. If making bad rhymes was a crime, this idiot would be in jail with a fucking life sentence).
The voice takes him around a huge fucking rock planted smack bang in the middle of the beach (honestly, what the fuck?). Yoongi peers around the rock, and there, lo and fucking behold, is the strangest sight Yoongi’s ever seen.
A boy, maybe a few years younger than Yoongi is buried neck down in the sand, and Yoongi honestly can’t remember a time he’s ever been so done with the human race in his entire fucking life (this is coming from someone who lives their life in a constant state of ‘done’). Yoongi makes to leave, his lip curled up in a sneer, when the boy turns his head slightly and Yoongi can see the boy’s features clearly.
Holy fucking shit on a stick.
The boy has dark brown hair parted down the middle that flops into his eyes and Yoongi has to physically restrain himself from running over and brushing the boy’s hair out of his eyes (‘cause let’s face it – that’s creepy as fuck and Yoongi doesn’t give a shit about cute boys with floppy hair in their eyes). Luckily for Yoongi (or unluckily, Yoongi’s not really sure at this stage) the wind blows just at the right moment and the boy flicks his hair out of his eyes in slow motion, revealing the prettiest rainbow shaped eyes that Yoongi has ever seen in his entire 23 years of existence.
At this stage, Yoongi sort of realises that he’s gonna need more than a fucking glass of water to satiate the thirst he feels for this beautiful stranger.
Is he having an existential crisis? Yoongi thinks that he’s having an existential crisis, cause it sure as fucking hell feels like one (or what he assumes feels like one).
On one hand, Yoongi’s still annoyed at Hoseok for running off to god knows where and leaving him to fend for himself, but on the other hand, he’s having some fucking meltdown about a boy, like he’s some hormonal, fourteen year old teenage girl attending her first girl/boy party. So yeah, Yoongi’s about 97% sure he’s having an existential crisis.
And besides, Min Yoongi hates cute.
And the stranger in the sand?
The fucking epitome of cute.
Yoongi thinks that he’s going to have to wring out his fucking –
“Hello!” A voice startles Yoongi out of his mental rant, and he jumps about seven feet in the air and at this stage he’s pretty sure he’s nearly 100% Anthony Davis. It’s the cute boy that Yoongi’s been having a mental breakdown about (his voice is way too happy for someone who’s buried neck down in the fucking sand in the middle of winter). He’s looking in his direction and oh my god his smile could probably cure cancer and fucking bring world peace. Yep, Yoongi’s definitely not hyperventilating. Because Min Yoongi does not give a fuck. And he most definitely does not give a fuck about cute boys with smiley eyes.
“What?” Yoongi’s voice comes out a lot harsher than expected, and with a lot of effort, Yoongi manages to tame his grumpy expression into something that he hopes can be identified as ‘mildly interested, but not that interested because Yoongi doesn’t give a flying fuck’.
“Well, I’d hate to bother you, but since you’re not doing anything except spying on me, I was wondering if you could help me out here? I think the tide is coming in, and I’m not too keen on dying today,” The boy says cheerfully, despite the fact that he’s on the fucking verge of drowning.
Yoongi flushes, absolutely mortified that he’s caught out. “Yah, you punk, I wasn’t spying on you.”
“Why were you lurking behind that rock?”
“I—I uh, I wasn’t– I don’t – why are you buried in the sand neck down in the middle of winter anyways, huh?” Yoongi doesn’t think he’s been so flustered in his entire life. In a stroke of random boldness he strides up to the cute boy, whose eyes are twinkling mischievously.
“I lost a bet with my friend so I let him bury me neck down but he’s gone missing, I don’t know where Jeongguk went.” The cute boy pouts, and Yoongi can feel his heart dropping to somewhere around his stomach, and his knees feel wobbly. Yoongi blames it on the sudden blast of wind, because there’s no fucking way that he’s getting all wobbly-kneed for some fucking stranger, right?
The cute boy falters as Yoongi crouches down near the boy, his smiley eyes widening. His mouth opens with a tiny pop, before he promptly shuts his mouth shut, his lips stretching out into the most heart-wrenching smile Yoongi’s ever seen.
“What?” Yoongi’s voice is a little less harsh, a bit more insecure. Does he have something on his face? Does he smell like cat-piss? He knew that suspicious puddle he sat in on the way to the beach wasn’t water like Hoseok insisted it was.
“I…Nothing,” The cute boys breathes. He seems a little dazed, before he shakes his head slightly. “So, will you help me out? I’m smiling, but I’m actually genuinely terrified for my life right now.”
“…No.”
The cute boy’s smile falters slightly. “…Please?”
Yoongi rolls his eyes so hard he’s roughly 74% sure that he can see his own brain matter, and starts scooping at the sand around the cute boy’s neck. The boy lets out a whoop of excitement.
“Thanks! I’m Park Jimin, by the way. What’s your name?”
“Call me Yoongi.”
“That’s cool. Can I call you hyung? You’re probably older than me, right? Or do you want me to call you Yoongi? You know, before you came, I thought I was going to die. That’s why I was singing. Did you hear me singing? I thought that singing would take my mind off the fact that I was on the verge of dying, but then you came, sort of like my guardian angel, you know?”
If Yoongi’s completely honest, he feels a little attacked. Jimin talks rapidly, barely taking breaths between his questions, and he flings them so quickly at Yoongi he can barely keep up with them, let alone answer them.
“Call me hyung,” Yoongi grumbles, focusing on his furious digging to stop him from kissing the living daylights out of Park Jimin, a.k.a. the most annoying thing (and possibly the cutest) to ever present themselves to Yoongi.
“You know, hyung, I’ve noticed that you don’t talk a lot,” Jimin says. Yoongi’s dug enough for Jimin to wriggle his arms out of the sand, and Jimin starts to help him dig.
“I think you speak enough for the both of us,” Yoongi replies dryly, arching an eyebrow.
Jimin flushes delicately and smiles unabashedly, and Yoongi bites down on his lip to stop himself from squealing like a girl meeting her bias at a fanmeeting. He frowns. Since when did he, the almighty, emotionless Yoongi ever have the fucking urge to squeal like a fucking fangirl? The beach is doing weird shit to him, he thinks and Yoongi comes to the decision that once he helps Jimin and finds Hoseok and Baguette, he’ll bury himself in his bed and never leave (after he kills Hoseok).
“Hyung?”
Yoongi snaps out of his mental rant for the second time. He glances at Jimin, who’s looking back at him expectantly. He also belatedly realises that he’s dug Jimin out.
“Yeah?”
“You’ve been digging at same spot for the past five minutes, even though you dug me out about three minutes ago.”
Yoongi clears his throat. “Ah. Right.”
Jimin walks over to where his parka and the rest of his winter clothes are, shrugging them on, and Yoongi trails behind him, resisting the urge to cover Jimin’s tiny (actually, Jimin’s the same height as Yoongi and possibly much more muscular, but Yoongi would rather eat Baguette’s shit than admit that) body with his own as the younger boy shivers when the cold wind nips at his skin (and no, he is most certainly not enjoying the view that is Jimin’s tiny, perky butt, because Yoongi possesses something called dignity). Jimin skips back, smiling at Yoongi, who blinks, because if Yoongi is completely honest with himself, that smile alone would probably be enough to sustain Yoongi for the rest of his life.
“Hyung, do you want to grab a coffee with me?” Jimin blurts out. Yoongi raises an eyebrow and Jimin hurries to explain himself, blushing furiously.
“I-I mean, it’s just that you basically saved my life, it’s the least I can do,” Jimin says shyly, looking away and scuffing his shoe in the sand.
Yoongi blushes for real now, and his worst fears of becoming a tomato at the beach are slowly becoming reality. Yoongi realises that the two of them have been standing there, blushing like idiots, so he raises his eyes to meet Jimin’s. As he looks at the shy, hopeful boy before him, his beautiful, sparkly eyes looking at Yoongi with so much life and vitality, he finds it physically impossible to turn him down.
“Sure.”
And in that moment as Yoongi is well and truly blinded by the sheer brilliance that is Jimin’s smile, Yoongi supposes that the beach isn’t all that bad after all.
(Yoongi decides later, after Jimin plants a tiny kiss on his cheek that he only hates the beach 23% of the time)
-
(“Baguette! Baggy! Where are you, you beautiful piece of shit? Come back to daddy!”
“Uh…is this your cat? She’s been following me around for the past twenty minutes.”
“Baguette, you naughty kitty, why were you following this muscly boy around everywhere? Hmm? I think she’s trying to mate with you! Isn’t that adorable?! Who knew she was into muscles? I always thought she’d go for pretty boys.”
“Uh – ”
“What name do I bestow upon my saviour?”
“…Jeon Jeongguk.”
“Huh. Your name sounds familiar. I’m Jung Hoseok! Wanna go grab ice-cream? I’ll pay, as a thank you gift!”
“Isn’t it a bit too cold for ice-cream? Also I buried my friend neck-down in the sand, and I think he’ll drown if I don’t help him, so I have to go find him.”
“What kind of friend just leaves them – oh shit! Yoongi! Baguette, let’s go find daddy!”)