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The sun is 150 million kilometres away from the earth, and every morning a little, wide-eyed boy would greet the sun, 'good morning.' At 5, he was given permission to go play outside for the first time, that was also the day he first held a basketball. He loved it, and so every day, since then he'd show the sun what he could do. It watched consistently as he spent almost the whole day basking in its light, and through the years, he'd grown thankful of God for giving him the sun.
Every night, before going to sleep, when the sun would set, he'd wish it farewell. He'd spend all night thinking about how long it'll be 'til he could next see it again. So much so, that he had become best friends with dawn, and they'd talked about how beautiful the sun was when it woke. That's another thing he, Yoongi, loved about the sun -- the colours it made. From orange, to pink, to bright yellow, to grey, he loved it all, because, he too, would feel one of those, or sometimes all at once. It understood him.
The sun is 150 million kilometres away from the earth, but it did not stop Yoongi. Years later, Yoongi still loved the sun so much, he wanted to know what it would be like to touch it. He'd start simple and stand on the roof, despite his mother's incessant begging for him to get off of it. He'd stretch as far as he can and hope the sun would magically come closer to him. It did not work.
He once saw this documentary on TV, about some guy named Armstrong who made it to the moon. Yoongi thought that maybe this Armstrong guy loved the moon so much, the scientists wanted to make it happen for him. And so that afternoon he had written a letter to NASA to take him to the sun. When they didn't reply, he'd taken matters into his own hands and out of the stolen cardboard boxes that mapped out the streets in the morning, he attempted to build his own rocket. It did not work.
One night, he'd remembered a story his mother once told him. A story about a boy named Peter, and he could fly. The next morning the sun watched as the boy put his best blankets together and tried to make wings. Like the first time, he went to the roof, and tried to fly. It did not work, and he broke his arm.
But he'd continue to smile at the sun, do his usual 'good morning's and 'good night's. When he'd be left with nothing but the absence of the sun, he'd wish on the "mini suns" that fill the sky to bring him to it. Along with his farewell, he'd promise to visit soon.
The sun is 150 million kilometres away from the earth. Yoongi loved the sun, but he was not the same wide-eyed little boy anymore. He'd just had a fight with his parents about the "waste of time" that was his underground rapping. That was the first time he'd cried to the sun and despite willing itself to become stronger, it could not dry the tears that stained Yoongi's cheeks.
Winter was Yoongi's least favourite season of the year, he'd dread it every time it came around. Of course, the sun is ever-present, but he said his nightly farewells much earlier, but he supposed he still had the mini suns to relay what ever he had to say. The winter of 2011 was an incredibly bad one for Yoongi, it seemed like everything was going wrong. He had never wanted to fall off the face of the earth so badly before, and he would see more of the grey than the vibrant yellow. Nevertheless, he promised he would visit it one day, so he pulled himself together.
When autumn came around, a new semester at school had started, and he met some kid on the basketball courts. His name was Park Jimin and he'd discovered that he was pretty shit at basketball, but he was also pretty good company.
Whenever Yoongi would see him at school he'd wave as if he was trying to steal the wind from the atmosphere. He'd never seen anyone so…happy…all the time.
Jimin, as Yoongi would learn, had the squeakiest laugh he's ever heard in his life. But he also discovered that he was as passionate about his dancing as he is about the underrated art that is music production and rapping. They had once spoken for hours about their respective passions, and he had thought that maybe this Park Jimin wasn't all just smiles.
Late night walks from school to their homes would become a frequent thing, right after that one time Yoongi ran into Jimin coming from the school's dance studio. "What are you doing here, Jimin?," he'd asked, and Jimin's eyes had casted down as he replied in an almost whisper. "I can't really practice at home, so, so I come here…" he seemed almost ashamed, but then his gaze fell on the black duffel bag Yoongi was holding and he raised his eyebrow in question. Yoongi had merely nodded in response, confirming the answer that had already been lingering in Jimin's head.
As the days progressed, Yoongi spent less time with the sun, and Jimin took over the hours of the day. The far too cheerful boy became a constant, and he didn't know why, but never once did he push him away. It had always been just him and his thoughts and the omnipresent warmth from that bright shining ball in the sky, but then there was Jimin.
There had come a point where Yoongi thinks Jimin might just be his best friend. He had gotten out of the hell hole that is high school, thanks to him, and he had spoken animatedly to him about his plans for the future. Now, Yoongi had never done that with anyone. But maybe it was because Jimin never seemed to shut up, that he wanted to tell him everything. Or maybe it was because he listened in the times it mattered. Or maybe it was because Jimin sucked so badly at basketball and let him win all the time. Or maybe it was because no matter how many times Yoongi would tease him, he'd just laugh. Nevertheless, Jimin had been by his side since, and he didn't really know what possessed him to, but he remembered that one night he told him his fears.
He had also, kind of accidentally told Jimin of his love for the sun. As soon as he had said it he regretted it, because most people in the past had just laughed and called him ridiculous. But Jimin, he had paused for only a second and a smile had made its way to his face. "I'll help you build a rocket, hyung. You'll get to touch it soon," Yoongi had only stared in shock, and it was Jimin this time who thought he was ridiculous for not thinking it was possible.
Yoongi had felt as warm as a summer afternoon. It was raining that day.
The sun, was 10 metres away from the earth. Its rays were stronger than usual as Yoongi waited near the pier. It was lining up for ice cream, fidgeting around, smiling at everyone who passed it. It was that same vibrant yellow he remembered basking in when he was a little kid. That day was a particularly good one.
It made its way closer to him, two ice cream cones in hand, when one of the scoops lolled to the side and fell to the ground. It tried to sport a juggling act to save it, but it did not work. It was still smiling, however, softly laughing, in fact, It held out the intact ice cream cone towards him, "Here, hyung."
The sun was 1 metre away from the earth, and maybe it was possible for Yoongi to touch it after all.
It was the spring after next when Yoongi had realised he might have been a little bit in love with the sun. But this time, it wasn't the sun he'd needed to fly and break his arm for, it was the one that had been laughing for the past five minutes as he told him about the time he stole all his neighbours' cardboard boxes. It was Park Jimin.
Sometimes he would catch him staring for far too long than a friendly glance, sometimes he'd feel the lingering touches when they hug, and it feels like he's being burnt at a thousand degrees. But he's never loved the sun more. And so on one brave day, Yoongi went up to the roof and asked the sun to be his. And finally what he had wished for came true.
The distance between him and the sun became non-existent that night. Yoongi loved the sun so much, he wanted to touch it, and finally he did. The first time he touched the sun, it felt like it was like it touched him instead. It had started with Yoongi fidgeting with the hair at the bottom of Jimin's neck, and somehow his hands managed to trail its way down his back and under his shirt, memorising the curves and the feel of Jimin's skin under his touch. Their kisses grew hungrier, but fuller, and Jimin had him pinned down with their hands locked and intertwined just above Yoongi's head.
Rugged breathing and soft whispers mingled in the heavy air. Occassionally, Jimin's fits of giggles would bounce off the walls of the room every time he'd hear Yoongi beg, simply because his hyung was "cute when he's struggling." At that point Yoongi saw all the fucking tones of red and orange, the warm laughter mixing with Jimin's touches fuelled a fire within him. He felt every inch of his skin burn like never before, as Jimin traced over his body with his lips. His hands were clasped around Yoongi's hips and the heat only intensified as each second passed. It was red, all he saw was red, the trail Jimin left was searing and Yoongi had never felt more alive.
The sun was a heartbeat away. He and Jimin, among other things, had fallen asleep talking about everything and anything. He woke up and got scorched, thoughts of the previous night burning in his mind, but he held him just a little bit tighter, ending up in a tangle of limbs and perfection. He had never seen him so ethereal, it was that colour he and dawn had spoke about in the past, a mixture of grey and light yellow that signify the start of a relatively good day.
But then, he saw the sun cry for the first time, and he concluded that it was his least favourite shade of light. Jimin showed up at his front door one night, a mess of tears. He had explained that his parents wanted to ban him from pursuing his dream of becoming a dancer, and Yoongi had been fuming. He promised he would do something about it in the morning, but for now he simply held Jimin in his arms, and this time, he burnt a little less.
:･ﾟ✧
Yoongi had woken up late, missing his talk with dawn, missing his daily 'good morning.' Instead, Jimin was outside waiting for him, sounds of chaos prompted him to quickly get out of bed. But he was greeted with the sight of Jimin surrounded by at least 20 boxes all stacked up and painted silver. He scanned the pile from top to bottom and discovered that it was shaped like a rocket.
Jimin turned around, and almost knocked down the entire left side of the rocket when he saw Yoongi. "Jimin, what the hell is all this?," concern rang in his tone, and Jimin had simply laughed in response.
"This," he gestures towards the makeshift rocket as he walks over towards Yoongi, "is a rocket ship. And I'm taking you to the sun, as promised." He had said as a matter-of-factly, and he took Yoongi's hand in his, leading them inide the maze of creatively placed boxes.
"I can't promise we won't get scorched when we get there so I need you to ask you one last thing," Yoongi waited expectantly as Jimin took a deep breath. "Marry me?"
Yoongi had just stared at him, and Jimin was just smiling back at him. When Yoongi's answer still had not filled the small space they were standing in, Jimin's face had fallen and he started rambling. "Okay, okay the rocket was too much but I just figured you know the only way to get the-" Yoongi finally closed the space in between them with his lips, and that was when he knew, the sun loved him just as much too.
The sun was an "I do" away.
On the April of a wonderful, wonderful year, the sun was his, forever. And Yoongi thanked every mini sun, and every God for finally giving it to him, as he remembered how hard it was to get there.
There once was a boy who loved the sun so much, he was able to visit it, and hold it, and love it as much as he could. He stayed with the sun for 52 years. In theory, the sun is supposed to live for 2.8 billion years, but his was not given the gift of a billion years.
He's standing in front of his old house, he's not sure how he got there or why he's there. But Yoongi takes it in for just a moment, nostalgia kicking in. His eyes land on the roof, and he remembers his broken arm, and the many attempts he took trying to do the impossible. But the rays of this particular summer day are beating down on him, and he feels the familiar warmth as well as the burn marks of his skin. He squints, looking up at that vibrant ball of yellow, and he almost misses the feeling of tears rolling down his cheeks as he whispers, "Thank you for taking me to the sun, Park Jimin."