Archive of Our Own

Kim Taehyung isn’t really a rich guy, but his parents are.

There’s this vibe he exudes of money and success that makes people turn in his direction and whisper spicy gossip about him as he passes by. It’s something you’re born with, the asshole told Jimin the first time they met. Jimin laughed at his face, not only because he found the phrase a bit arrogant and ridiculous, but there’s something else about Kim Taehyung that you know the second you get to know him. He’s a good person. And Jimin never doubted that fact once since the moment they became friends.

At that time, Jimin was kind of an outsider. He only knew Hoseok because they shared almost every class in college. Hoseok’s a good guy too. A cool guy, something that Jimin didn’t consider himself to be. 

It was the third week in their first year when the cool and smiley boy noticed Jimin didn’t have a practice buddy, always curled up in the corner of the studio doing his warmups and plies all alone.

“Ah, I think I recognize that accent…” Hoseok had said as he was checking Jimin’s fifth position.

“I’m from Busan.” Jimin answered, hiding his thumb behind his index finger and lifting his chin higher.

Hoseok snapped his fingers. “Right! I have a friend from Busan too!” He said. “Now, to the sixth.”

And that’s how the following weekend Jimin was tucked by Jung Hoseok to some seedy bar near campus. It was pretty cold to be an autumn night and Jimin's jacket was useless at keeping him warm, but it made his shoulders look sharper, somehow taller. He was wearing his favorite skinny jeans too, even added a bit of shiny blush and mascara to his simple makeup routine. Jimin never considered himself cool, he didn’t want to stand out.

“It isn’t the nicest bar in town, ‘kay?” Hoseok snickered as they walked with his arm around Jimin’s shoulders. “But the barman is our friend too and he gives us free shots sometimes.”

To be honest, Jimin didn’t care at all where they were going. He was happy to go out with Hoseok and hopefully meet new friendly people. He didn’t want to go through another long phone call with his mother and assure her he was too busy with homework or practice to do something fun instead.

That first night at the bar Jimin met Jungkook, the other Busan boy and art student, Namjoon, the barman who gifted him a Cosmopolitan and philosophy student, and Seokjin, soon to be a chef and the guy Hoseok’s been pinning on since high school apparently. They all greeted him with a warm smile and asked him questions about classes and his life back on the beach. 

The next day, Jimin saw Jungkook at the cafeteria and they had lunch together. He learned that the boy and him used to go to the same internet café near the indie cinema.

The next week, when his mother called one Friday afternoon, Jimin smiled like an idiot as he told the woman he actually had made some new friends. And they liked him back, just the way he was.

It became like a routine. To meet at the bar at least twice a month (once when it was exam season), to drink and complain about classes and teachers. Seokjin invited them over to his apartment every other weekend to taste new recipes he was elaborating for when he’d open his own restaurant. Hoseok would always blush like a mad man when Jin directed a spoon to his mouth. 

As seasons changed, Jimin started to feel more and more comfortable with his new group of friends and thought less about being a plus one and actually becoming just one more of them.

He would venture to chat with Namjoon when life was getting just too much. He would play poker with Seokjin and tease him about his cooking skills. He would practice every day with Hoseok and go out to see an underground recital when they had time. And with Jungkook, everything felt right into place. They were like lost brothers, reattached to the hip. When they were not seeing each other in the dance studio or the art shed, they were always texting each other, talking about whatever topic they chose. Jimin was so happy with his new group of friends, he felt like the luckiest person in the world.

It was a hot summer night at the bar and the tables were all taken. The group was having a round of shots with the purpose of celebrating finals season being finally over. To think Jimin’s brother had told him he wouldn’t survive so long without their mother’s cooking, yet there he was. First year of college: done.

There were so many people inside, the windows were getting steamed from the inside and Jimin had to set the first couple of buttons of his shirt free. He was sweating and the concealer he had applied around the small pimple on his forehead had probably vanished by now, but he didn’t care at all. They were all laughing about something Hoseok said or maybe Jungkook and Jimin couldn’t stop giggling as Seokjin’s laugh was getting louder and funnier.

“We should get more drinks!” Jungkook spoke right in his ear. “Give them some alone time.”

Jimin nodded, trying to compose himself as they stood up from the table; Hoseok and Jin not even noticing they were leaving.

A hissed cursed slipped off Jungkook’s lips as they approached the bar, stuffed with too many people shouting their orders over the music. Namjoon was juggling behind the counter, shaking the mixer and sliding soju bottles and beer cans over the wooden surface like it was a hockey arena. His expression gave away the near breakdown he was about to have and Jimin felt bad for him. They waited some minutes, trying to catch Namjoon’s attention and failing successfully.

“Shit, I think I’ll go to the restroom.” Jungkook said, eyeing the dark hallway at the back.

“Go, I’ll get us something if I can!”

After his friend patted him on the arm, Jimin began to slip through the mass of people in a way to try to get to the front of the bar. He was a constant excuse me, sorry, even though no one seemed to listen to him over the noise.

“Trying to get something?”

Jimin jumped on his feet, eyes widening as they absorbed the image of a handsome guy wearing designer clothes in front of him. He recognized the collection because Jimin liked to search stuff on the internet he couldn’t buy. The man was taller than him, his blonde hair contrasting perfectly with his tanned skin.

“Excuse me?” Jimin answered, a bit confused as to why he was being approached in the first place.

Well, it’s a bar after all. But Jimin has never been the kind of person who is approached at bars by strangers. Or so he thought.

“Do you want a drink?” The blonde asked, a boxy smile showing his perfect white teeth.

“Uh… yeah?”

“Come with me.”

The guy wrapped his fingers around his wrist and guided Jimin to the front of the bar, some people standing out of the way to let the both of them pass. When the blonde man was able to rest his arm on the counter, Jimin was going to try to call Namjoon, but a shrill sound provoked his skin to shiver, despite the high temperature inside the place. Did this guy just fucking whistled?

The trick seemed to work though, because the two bartenders turned their ways to them, Namjoon looking like he just saw a damn ghost. His friend gestured to his co-worker that he’d be the one to attend them.

“Sorry for the delay, it’s chaotic tonight.”

“Please, it’s no trouble.” The stranger said before Jimin could reply to his friend.

Namjoon cleared his throat. “So, Jimin-ah, what can I get for you and…

“Kim Taehyung.” The blonde boy introduced himself with such confidence it made Jimin a bit curious and jealous.

Namjoon nodded his head, his jaw clenching and fists pressing on the counter.

Jimin leaned on the bar. “Just orange vodka for me. Oh, and soju for Kook.”

“I want vodka too.” Kim Taehyung said, planted voice and chin tilted up with something akin to arrogance. “So, your name is Jimin?” He asked, now looking down at him after Namjoon went to prepare the drinks.

“Ye-yes. Park Jimin.”

“Nice to meet you. I am-

“I know!” Jimin rushed over. “You… seem like an interesting person, Kim Taehyung.”

“It’s something you’re born with.” 

It made Jimin chuckle. Where did this guy come from? 

“You seem like an interesting person too, Park Jimin.” Taehyung added and his smile grew wider when Jimin pressed his lips into a thin line.

He learned quickly that Kim Taehyung was the kind of person to hold power over people. Not in an evil way, but in a trustful one. People tended to trust Taehyung and vice-versa. Maybe that was his weakest trait too.

☀️💦🌴

A thud sound on the door makes Jimin jump on his bed. The sheets get tangled on his legs and the lack of light disorients him even more, so he ends up falling to the floor. He groans loudly, his sore body catching up with the circumstances, as more knocks on his door come from the other side of the room.

“Jimin-ah! We’re gonna be late!”

“Coming!” His voice sounds muffled against the carpet, and he sighs before getting up.

Jungkook removes his heart-shaped glasses in a dramatic move before saying:

“You aren’t ready?!” His mouth hangs open and Jimin yawns.

“Uhm, no, I was getting ready.” He rubs his watery eyes.

“Jesus, at what time did you leave the studio?”

Jungkook invites himself in, going straight to lift the curtains up. Jimin squints his eyes at the sudden income of light. Then, he messily makes the bed and Jimin remembers he’s still leaning on the opened door.

“I needed to practice before our little vacation.” Jimin says, heading to the bathroom.

“No, you needed to pack and rest before our trip!”

“I slept at least five hours!”

“You’re a lost cause.”

Jimin snickers as he opens the tap to wash his teeth and face. Once his morning routine is done, he walks into the bedroom again, finding his friend rummaging through his closet.

“What are you doing?”

“How are you so calm? We have fifteen minutes until Jin arrives to pick us up. It’s a three hour drive, we have to get there before midday!” Jungkook seems a bit stressed about the situation, he’s such a punctual person.

They finish packing just in time Hoseok calls to tell him he’s putting his bags on Jin’s truck outside campus. Outside, the sun is shining bright like a typical summer morning and Jimin tries to remember if he threw the sunscreen bottle onto his bag. Taehyung waves from inside the truck when he spots them, Jungkook walking ahead as he continues to drag Jimin’s sleepy feet.

Seokjin gives them a commercial smile. “Good morning, dear friends! It’s going to be a beautiful summer day today, isn’t it?”

“Please tell me this hippie van has AC?” Jungkook asks as he passes their bags to Jin, to accommodate them in the trunk.

“You just answered yourself, Kook, it’s a hippie van.” Namjoon chuckles on the passenger seat and Jungkook whines like a child.

“Don’t insult my baby like that!” Jin scolds them before shutting down the trunk. “Alright, let’s go! We want to arrive just in time for lunch.”

The pair of friends get inside the back of the orange Volkswagen camper, where Taehyung and Hoseok are sitting. Jimin takes the window and immediately Jungkook hovers over him to open it. Seokjin starts the car and an old rock song blasts on the stereo. Everyone cheers as they begin their journey to the beach, excitement building up on Jimin’s stomach at the idea of spending a week on the beach with the company of his friends.

And a certain someone.

☀️💦🌴

The second time Jimin met Taehyung at the bar, it was a Sunday.

If someone had asked him in the past, going for a drink after getting ditched on a date was a bit cliché. Although, as he gulped his third Cosmopolitan, Jimin couldn’t care less. Namjoon wasn’t even on shift that day, having called in sick at the last minute, and Hoseok was busy doing late practice at a dance workshop. An activity Jimin could have been doing if he hadn’t agreed to go on a date that never actually happened.

It was a shit day.

“Slow down there, kid.” Eunhyun told him as he wiped a couple of wet glasses on the other side of the counter.

“Hyung, leave me alone.” The words sounded bubbly on Jimin’s tongue, which made him smile. Why was he talking so funny?

“You get really cozy when you’re drunk.”

“Yeah, I was supposed to get cozy with someone else today but-

Eunhyun slammed the cloth over his shoulder. “That’s it, you better get cozy with that cosmo because this house won’t sell you any other drink.”

Jimin peeked at the man from under his eyelashes, giving him a petty pout. “Admit it, you’re just scared of Namjoon-hyung.”

“You brat, watch your mouth.” The bartender pointed at him with his index finger and Jimin scoffed.

The next day, of course, Jimin would feel thankful at Eunhyun for his decent behavior, but at that moment he just wanted to drown his frustrations with more vodka and cranberry juice. Sue him.

As he stirred his drink with the black straw, he felt someone take the stool beside him and ask for two bottles of soju. With the end of the straw, he poked the half slice of lemon decorating the border of the glass. A few drops of juice dripped down onto the pinky liquid.

“Isn’t this Park Jimin?”

At the mention of his name, Jimin glanced to his side with both of his eyebrows arched up.

“Ki-Kim Taehyung.” Jimin mumbled the name, rather because of a mix between confusion and surprise.

Taehyung gave him a full smile. “Look at you, drinking alone in a bar on this beautiful warm Sunday night.”

“I, uhm…”

In a way to feed his embarrassment, Jimin went completely speechless as he took in Taehyung’s appearance. Washed tight jeans, white button up and a Gucci scarf tied around his neck. His skin looked more tanned than the last time, if that was at all possible, as if the young man went on a quick trip to French Polynesia and absorbed all the sun there.

“You look good.” Jimin thought he sounded lame.

“I always do.” Taehyung smirked and shifted to grab the soju bottles on the counter; Jimin didn’t even notice Eunhyun placed them there in the first place, too stunned by the boy’s presence.

“Do you want to come to our table?”

“Sorry?”

Taehyung just blinked, that smug smirk never leaving his flawless face.

“It’s never too good to be alone on a Sunday night, Park Jimin.”

“Oh, I don’t want to bother-

“Come with me.”

That’s how Jimin ended up following Taehyung, half emptied Cosmo in hand, to a table at the back where another man was sitting alone. With a book between his hands.

“I leave you for five minutes and you’re already reading.” Taehyung groans to the man, placing one soju bottle in front of him.

“Five minutes is a long time.” The dark-haired man answered without taking his eyes off the pages, his voice sounding deep and velvety.

When Taehyung sat on a chair, he looked up at Jimin, who was awkwardly standing in front of them. Meeting new people hasn’t always been his strength, feeling too conscious about his words and actions. All those months ago, Hoseok had been the one who approached him in the first place, then took him out to the bar and introduced him to his friends. It felt easier when he had someone else to encourage the hidden confidence in him. But being around someone like Kim Taehyung and this other man, who apparently hadn’t noticed his presence yet, Jimin definitely felt a bit intimidated. Even while being slightly drunk.

“Aren’t you going to sit?” Taehyung asked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

And of course, it was. Just take the damn seat, Jimin.

“Yeah…” He breathed out, sliding the chair between the two boys back, trying to act as casual as possible.

The chair squeaked a bit as he plumped down on it, the sound making the stranger lift his gaze from the book, and Jimin internally cursed from embarrassment. 

“This is Park Jimin.” Taehyung finally introduced him; a smirk clearly can be heard in his voice. Jimin couldn’t take his eyes off the stranger, and he chose to believe his cheeks were red because of the alcohol. And not because that might have been the most handsome stranger he’s ever met. Sharp eyes, glowy skin, button nose and lips that could belong to Cupid himself. “Darling, this is Min Yoongi.”

☀️💦🌴

The Kim’s beach house is huge.

Well, it’s a fucking mansion.

Jimin’s mouth hangs open when he steps out of the Volkswagen, his sight swallowing all the white walls and columns and marble steps. Not even when someone throws his bags to his arms, the shock fades away from his expression. They make their way inside the house, Taehyung giving an oral tour as if he were a curator in a museum. 

“To the left there's the dining room, drawing room and bathroom, to the right the kitchen, laundry room and another bathroom.” 

Jimin thinks he might need a map to be around.

After having some quick sandwiches and salad for lunch, they decide to go to the beach for the rest of the afternoon; they just need to follow the path that begins on the deck at the backyard. Once settled on a towel, Jimin takes off his shirt and proceeds to apply himself some sunscreen.

“Is Yoongi hyung still coming?”

At the mention of that name, Jimin gives a quick glance to Jungkook, who is already looking at him with mischief dancing in his eyes. He continues to rub the white cream on his left arm, the sound of Jin and Namjoon playing by the shore in the background.

“Yes,” Taehyung replies, sitting under a colorful parasol. “He had one last class today and had to finish some paperwork before finally coming.”

Hoseok sighs loudly. “Let’s hope he doesn’t have to travel too late, or someone should wait up for him, right Jimin?”

“Huh?” Jimin looks up at his friends and the three of them burst into laughter at his fake cluelessness. 

“Don’t forget to apply sunscreen on your face, hyung. It’s already red!” Jungkook jokes and Jimin wants to dig a hole in the sand and bury himself in it.

“Yeah, like his hair!” Taehyung adds, a billion won smile plastered on his face.

Instead, the redhead throws the bottle to Jungkook, who catches it without blinking.

“You all are so annoying!”

Having been born and raised in Busan, Jimin loves the beach. He loves sinking his feet on the sand, looking at the sea and feeling so at ease by just existing there. In the past, he used to go after school, on weekends, on his birthday. No matter which season. 

Every summer his parents would take him to the beach near their house and when his brother was born, Jimin was always so excited to play with the little boy, build sandcastles and eat popsicles that would melt within minutes under the sunrays. 

The beach holds nothing more than happy memories. 

So, as the afternoon goes by, Jimin swims in the sea and plays football with his friends. Later when the sun is setting and the sky turns beautiful shades of orange and pink, they all lay on the sand to eat some snacks and talk about lighting a bonfire one of these nights.

With his cheeks hurting slightly from smiling so much, Jimin thinks there isn’t a place he would want to be more.

☀️💦🌴

“The difference between a crush and actual love, is that you can’t hide crushing on someone because the body reacts before the mind. Call it attraction or sexual tension or whatever, but when you have a crush, you just don’t decide it, that’s why you can’t hide it.”

Jimin looked at Taehyung as his friend talked, who was watching the stars above them. Despite the music blasting in Seokjin’s living room and the loud voices, Jimin felt quiet. Like they were inside a bubble of silence and deep conversation.

“But when you’re in love, you accept it, even in the denial stage, so you become better at keeping it a secret.” Taehyung continues and a sad smile curves his glossy lips.

Jimin looked down at his beer cup. “I thought crushes were a type of love.”

“Maybe. But the way I see it, it’s more platonic or parasocial.”

The winter breeze blew past them, and the skin of his neck shivered. “What do you mean?”

“Like I can say I have a crush on Lee Dong-Wook or the guy from the Louis Vuitton store, but I’d never expect to actually be with those guys.”

“But I thought you hooked up with the guy from the Louis Vuitton store.”

“Not my best moment.” Taehyung rolled his eyes. “But that’s besides the point! Those are not crushes, they are fantasies.” Taehyung bumped his shoulder. “One of them, a nightmare.”

Jimin shook his head. “Are you implying we don’t decide who we fall in love with?”

“I’m saying it’s a two stage decision. You don’t fall in love with everyone you get a crush on.”

Jimin pursed his lower lip, humming. “You’re saying love is more mental than crushing on someone.”

“I’m saying some of us are very good liars.” Taehyung looked at him, head tilted and his smile spreading. “And most of us don’t even realize it.”

After Taehyung got inside the apartment again, Jimin turned around in time to watch him grab another drink from the coffee table and plop down on the sofa between Namjoon and… Yoongi’s eyes set on him through the glass door and Jimin had to suppress a gasp, even though no one could have heard him, trying to ignore the warm cloud making his chest feel all fuzzy and restless.

☀️💦🌴

Before dinner, Jimin goes to his room to take a shower. Because, of course, everyone has their own private bathroom. It’s a mansion, after all. He washes the salt and sand away from his skin and applies the strawberry shampoo he grabbed from his dorm. Since they don’t have any fancy plans for the night, Jimin changes into a pair of shorts and a baggy t-shirt, basically his pajamas. The weariness from the trip and lack of sleep is catching up on him, his eyelids already feeling heavier after the warm shower. He just wants to tuck himself in bed and finally sleep. He connects his phone to the charger and heads out of the room, dragging his feet.

Since he’s suddenly so tired, Jimin doesn’t notice someone else is walking towards him in the opposite direction. He straight collides into another body and staggers backwards a few steps.

“I'm sorry!” He mumbles, trying to orient himself.

“Are you alright?”

Oh, that’s the voice that would make Jimin’s knees buckle and fall ungracefully to the floor if he were a character in a soap opera. He’s not, of course. Instead, he freezes on his spot.

“Yoongi hyung,” Jimin says, taking in the elder’s appearance. He’s wearing black slacks and a white button up tucked in, black gym bag hanging from his left shoulder, and Jimin gulps at the image. “You’re here.”

“I am.”

Yoongi’s hair looks messy from wearing his helmet and Jimin suppresses the impulse to raise his hand and fix it.

“You look… formal.” Jimin can’t even make eye contact. “I mean, you look good and like out of a lawyer’s bachelor party.”

Someone please shut him up.

“I thought this was the standard teacher look.”

“Most of my teachers wear sweats or tutus so I wouldn’t know.”

With embarrassment burning his cheeks and an imaginary audience laughing at his lame behavior inside his mind, he almost doesn’t hear the moment Yoongi lets out a light chuckle.

“You look like a teddy bear.”

Continuing fiddling with his fingers, Jimin gathers enough courage to look up and finds Yoongi softly smiling at him. Dark eyes so peaceful that Jimin could drown in them.

“Well,” Yoongi clears his throat, the ghost of his smirk still present. “I’ll drop my bag and change out of my promiscuous clothes then.”

Those last words leave a frozen Jimin completely speechless in the middle of the hallway and he can’t do anything more but stare in a mix of awe and shock while Yoongi restarts his path back to his bedroom.

Which occasionally is the one in front of Jimin’s.

Oh, dear and damned Kim Taehyung.

The beach atmosphere somehow brings a new wave of nerves and awkwardness in Jimin. It’s pathetic, he knows. He’s trying to control it, he intends to. He didn’t put much thought about it the last couple of weeks as they were planning the trip, but right now he understands how doomed he is.

It’s like the beach house has set a special pair of magnets between him and Yoongi. Which is ridiculous, given the fact that the house is half the size of the Blue House. Nevertheless, everywhere Jimin goes now, there’s also Yoongi.

When he goes out of his room, Yoongi is in the corridor on his way down the stairs. When they walk to the beach, Yoongi somehow ends up walking beside him. When he goes to the laundry room, Yoongi is already there drying some towels. Even when he feels like getting a bit lost, he finds Yoongi sitting alone on the deck reading a book.

The worst part is that he acts like a complete idiot every time. His body tenses, he stumbles over his own feet, he stutters and ends up closing his mouth for his own sake and leaves the room in silence.

“Hyung,” Jungkook whispers in his ear as they sit around the table on the terrace. “You’re staring.”

“What? No. No, I’m not. What are you saying?”

Jimin straightens up on his seat and sips from his beer can, missing the way the younger rolls his eyes. Taehyung suggested they could have dinner up there since it was getting a bit chilly, and they would be more sheltered than on the deck. He and Namjoon just went inside to get blankets for everyone (and probably make out in the closet), meanwhile Jin and Yoongi are by the barbeque cooking the meat and vegetables.

“You’re getting red again.” Jungkook coos and Jimin caresses his cheeks with the cold can.

“It’s the weather.”

There’s a beat of silence before Jungkook and Hoseok drown out a laugh, coughing and clearing their throats to pretend they weren’t about to make fun of him.

“Jimin-ah, our young and sweet Jimin-ah…” Hoseok munches on a chip before adding: “Have you thought about… doing something about it?”

Jimin looks down to his lap. “There’s nothing to do about it.”

“It seems like there really is. Something that’s been going on for… how long now?”

“Six months?” Jungkook replies and Jimin hits him on the chest.

It's more than that but Jimin won't correct him.

“Why would you say that?”

Jungkook scoffs. “How can you lie to yourself like that, hyung?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jimin shakes his head, clearly lying to himself.

“Ugh, hyung, stop acting like this is some kind of historical forbidden love drama!”

“I’m not acting like anything!”

Hoseok drags his chair closer. “Jungkook’s right. This isn’t Romeo and Juliet, it’s you and-

“Hoseok.” Jimin blinks at him.

“Whatever,” Hoseok leans in, putting the beer on the table and taking both of his hands. Jimin arches an eyebrow at him. “You don’t have any plausible reason for you not to go at it. ”

“Yes, I do!”

Jungkook chuckles and the two boys turn to him with a questioning glance. “It looks like you’re getting married.”

Jimin rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “Just… I am me, and he is… him.”

“What are we learning pronouns now?”

“You can’t keep bottling up your own feelings!” Hoseok interrupts Jungkook.

“I’m not bottling anything up! And you're not the best example to talk about bottled feelings.” Jimin whispers with distress and Seokjin’s bright laugh is a reminder that they are not alone. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

So they don’t talk about it. Like every time someone brings the topic.

A few minutes later, Taehyung and Namjoon return with blankets just in time for Seokjin to announce that the food’s ready. They eat and joke around like usual, only that now Jimin doesn’t feel like participating in any conversation anymore. He reminds himself to smile and nod and eat and drink. Especially to drink. But his mind flies somewhere else. To a place where he isn’t afraid to look at the other side of the table and maybe change seats and share a blanket, just for the sake of keeping himself warm. At least, it would be half a lie. Because all he wishes is to be close to Yoongi.

Perhaps if Jimin weren’t so caught up in his own thoughts, he would notice that Yoongi is looking at him from across the table.

☀️💦🌴

The first time Jimin and Yoongi spent time together was about a year ago.

It’s been about eight months since their group of friends have been hanging out, and that night all of them went out to celebrate Taehyung and Namjoon finally getting together. They met at a fancy club in Gangnam, courtesy of Taehyung, sipped some champagne and danced to electronic music.

Jimin had always preferred a more underground atmosphere with a wider variety of music genres and a solid mass of sweaty bodies to move around, but no one could deny the alcohol was really good.

After the third round of shots, most of them left their booth to go to the dance floor, minus Seokjin and Yoongi. It was usual that when they went clubbing, the two eldest would stand aside talking or be near the bar for most of the night.

Since the couple was busy with each other and Jungkook had already found a partner to grind on, Jimin and Hoseok were having fun dancing together. Closing his eyes to feel the beat of the music thrum across his chest, Jimin felt the flickering colorful lights painting his skin and the hot air from the crowd engulf him whole. He swinged his hips in a way he couldn’t do in a ballet class and pushed his blond hair back. It was freeing.

He was opening his eyes, when a pair of arms wrapping around his torso made him panic for a second.

“What’s wrong?” He raised his voice close to Hoseok’s ear.

“I want to dance with him! But he doesn’t like dancing! Jimin-ah, what do I do?” Hoseok cried on his shoulder and Jimin patted his back.

“Just ask him, dumbass!”

“He will say no!”

“How do you know? Just grab his hand and drag him here!”

Many protests and several encouragements later, they both returned to the booth, where Hoseok drowned the leftovers of a drink and said, voice flat and decisive:

“Let’s go dance.”

He grabbed Jin’s hand and didn’t leave him no time to think about what was going on, the two of them were already getting lost somewhere on the dancefloor. Jimin plopped down in one of the chairs, he could use some rest after moving so much.

“Those two have no medicine.” He heard Yoongi speak closer than he remembered.

Jimin smirked. “Maybe they’ll learn from Namjoon-hyung and Tae.”

“Oh, I don’t think they need to learn anything they already know.”

At that moment, Jimin was able to spot his friends, Seokjin doing a robot dance and Hoseok hyping him up with the biggest smile on his face. Those two.

“Don’t want to dance anymore?”

Glancing to his side, he found Yoongi reclined in his chair, a silver chain peeking under the loose shirt, and his left arm resting on the back of Jimin’s own chair. His freshly dyed mint hair possessed a luminous effect under the club’s lights and Jimin liked the way it looked.

“I’m a bit tired.” He replied, keeping a straight posture. “Besides, I don't have a partner.”

“Do you always need a partner to dance?”

Jimin was thankful for the low lighting, or else everyone would have noticed the pink spreading on his neck and cheeks. “Sometimes.” His voice sounded small.

But the elder heard him just fine. “From what I’ve seen it seems that you don’t need somebody else.”

Ever since they’ve known each other, Jimin could count with the help of only one hand the number of times he’s talked with Min Yoongi. The first time was at the bar, when Taehyung introduced them, and Jimin kind of gagged the entire time he would speak. He’s always seen Yoongi as someone intimidating, but not in a grandiloquent way. He’s always been more of a quiet man, always with his nose drowned in a new book every week; someone who enjoyed feeding the pigeons on the faculty’s fountain and talking about random facts no one’s ever heard about. He was extremely kind and gentle and didn’t mind going to a club or a concert with his friends, even if he’d rather stay at home and cook some delicious meal. Yoongi was so much in the simplest ways. And that intimidated Jimin. The more their group merged together, the better he got to know him and more comfortable started feeling around him, but not enough to initiate a close relationship. 

“You’ve never seen me perform, though, Yoongi-ssi.” Jimin stuck his chin on his right shoulder, feeling shy.

“Hyung.” Yoongi said and it threw the blond boy a bit off. “You’re the only one who doesn’t call me hyung.”

Jimin felt called out. “Jin doesn’t call you hyung either.”

Yoongi didn’t laugh at his silly joke, only blinked in response. “Seokjin isn’t younger than me.”

“I- I didn’t know I could call you that.”

“You can.”

“Oh.”

Jimin turned his face to the dancefloor again, squeezing his sweaty hands between his thighs. Why was he feeling nervous all of a sudden?

The music changed into more upbeat, now pounding on Jimin’s skull like a constant hammering. He was going to get a headache at that point.

“Well, I didn’t know I was invited to your performances.” Yoongi continued the conversation, much to Jimin’s surprise.

“What?” Jimin asked, taken aback. He looked at Yoongi again, who was now twisting the metal bar on his ear.

“You said that I’ve never seen you perform, but not because I don’t want to.”

It’s the first time someone admitted something like that to him. Since his family still lived in Busan, his parents have never been able to travel because of work or Jihyun’s school to attend one of the presentations, and so far, only Jungkook, Namjoon and Seokjin were his and Hoseok’s loyal supporters.

Jimin felt a strange warmth grow on his chest, near his heart. And it was confusing because he’d never felt it there before.

“You can come to this year’s recital, hyung.”

Yoongi grinned, a glowy triumph flashing in his eyes like the moonlight reflecting on a night’s ocean. “I gladly accept the invitation, Minnie.”

That simple conversation was all it took that night to make Jimin start developing a hard crush on Yoongi.

Four months later, when an agitated Jimin spotted past the bright lights from the stage a smiling Yoongi clapping from his seat, he instantly knew.

☀️💦🌴

It's early Thursday morning when the storm breaks out.

Jimin wakes up at the sound of a thunder roaring in the sky and stumbles out of bed to close the opened window, the thin curtains blowing in the air, product of the strong wind. He exhales loudly, trying to calm his nerves down; he thought he was having a nightmare. The rain hits violently the glass, and a branching of lightning strikes far away on the ocean.

He goes to check the time on his phone and scoffs at seeing it’s barely past three in the morning. He always has a bad time reconciling sleep. So, without having a clue of what to do, he just sits on the bed and waits to feel the smallest drop of slumber.

Looking around, his thoughts redirect to his conversation with Hoseok and Jungkook earlier. What is he doing? He can’t be so obvious about his feelings towards Yoongi, he should be able to control his reactions by now. If he does that, then it will be easier to ignore them and pretend they don’t exist. And everything will be back to normal, back to how it used to be when they first met. Just two guys sharing a group of friends. Moreover, it’s clear Yoongi doesn’t even feel the same way either.

The torment weather carries over his heart with heavy opaque clouds reflecting avoided looks and distanced hands, raining thousands of unsaid words which fall and sink into a dessert of unrequited feelings. Jimin falls asleep a couple of hours later, eyebrows furrowed, and body curled like a snowball above the sheets.

The storm stops sometime in the afternoon, when it’s still pretty windy to go to the beach.

“Ah, I hope it doesn’t rain tomorrow for the party.” Taehyung pouts from where he’s cuddling with his boyfriend on one of the couches in the living room.

“I don’t think it will, this storm was quite unpredictable as well.” Namjoon says, playing with Tae’s hair.

“At least, we’ll be well rested for it.” Seokjin comments as he lays on the floor, head resting on Hoseok’s legs. “Unlike Jimin, you look like you're coming from the dead.”

Jimin catches the way Hoseok spats Jin’s forehead when he looks up. He’s been zoning out ever since the movie ended.

“Oh, I just didn’t sleep well last night.” He hugs his legs and rests his chin on his knees.

“You alright, hyung?” Jungkook leans over him, worried eyes scrutinizing him; a private conversation reflecting on them.

Jimin bumps him with his shoulder. “Yes, I’ll try to sleep earlier tonight.”

He looks around his friends to assure them he means it, getting a bit nervous from the sudden attention. He sees that Yoongi hasn’t looked up from the book he’s reading sitting on the armchair and ignores the lump on his stomach for the apparent coldness.

Later, when they are about to have dinner, they notice someone is missing on the table. Namjoon and Seokjin are the ones preparing some bulgogi and japchae tonight, and from the smell coming from the kitchen the verdict already is: delicious. As Jimin enters the dining room, he sees Hoseok and Jungkook setting the table and Taehyung is folding some napkins.

“What can I help with?” Jimin asks, feeling out of place for not doing anything like the rest.

Taehyung looks up, apparently trying to do some origami with a napkin. “Can you go get Yoongi-hyung?”

“What?”

Hoseok and Jungkook share a look as they place the chopsticks on top of the bowls.

Taehyung returns to his failed origami. “He’s still in his room and the food’s ready.”

It isn’t anything bad, he can do it. He wanted to be helpful in the first place. Definitely, he can do one simple task.

Without saying anything back, Jimin walks to the first floor, fiddling with his cardigan paws and biting his lower lip. He takes a long inhale in an attempt to collect himself, before finishing the rest of his walk to the elder’s room, practically doing the same way he does every night to go to his. He knocks the white door twice and waits, feeling the emptiness and silence of the hallway. There’s a dull sound inside before the doorknob twists, and a second later Yoongi’s figure is revealed on the threshold.

Jimin gulps as he focuses on Yoongi’s messy wet hair and not the tight white tee holding his torso. He looks fresh out of the shower.

“Uhm, di-dinner’s ready.” He announces, pinching the back of his hand.

Yoongi sniffs and wets his lips. “I’ll be right there.”

Jimin waits for Yoongi to go out of the room or maybe grab his glasses, but he doesn’t move. The man stays there, one hand still holding the door, revealing a bit of skin from his bicep and Jimin doesn’t know where to look.

“Oh, okay.” He breathes out and turns around to go back to the dining room.

Clearly Yoongi wants some privacy and Jimin is invading his space.

“Jimin-”

He stops his tracks in the middle of the hallway, heart beginning that useless race inside his ribcage, neck feeling hot.

“Yes?” He glances over his shoulder.

Yoongi is still gripping the door, his mouth a hard thin line. 

“Nothing.” He finally replies, the word sounding sour. “Let’s go.”

And Jimin wonders when he started to feel more disappointments than hopes around him. Maybe that’s the fastest way to kill love.

☀️💦🌴

In his defense, Jimin was really drunk.

The truth was that his friends have always known him for having a high tolerance when it came to alcohol, but whenever he drank more than three glasses of wine… Things could become dangerous.

It was one winter night, where Seokjin invited the group for dinner before everyone would part to their homes for the holidays. The streets were covered in snow and the chilly air penetrated their bones, so Jimin kept rubbing his hands to warm them up even inside the apartment.

After Taehyung arrived with two bags heavy with wine bottles, it didn’t take too long until everyone was cozy with their respective glasses and getting rid of layers of clothes in between conversations. Food was delicious as usual, not that anyone expected any less, and the wine tasted sweet with a tint of wooden dryness that scraped their tongues in an addictive way.

“Agh, this shit’s too good.” Jungkook commented for the hundredth time, swirling the scarlet liquid inside the glass and inspecting it with round eyes.

“You’re welcome.” Taehyung grinned from his spot on the couch beside Namjoon.

“Oh, here comes the rich boy agenda.” Seokjin joked, rolling his eyes to make his statement more dramatic.

“Rude! It’s not my fault I’m rich!”

“That’s what every privileged rich person says.” Jungkook retorted and everyone laughed again, talking on top of the other.

Jimin was kind of spacing out the argument a bit, fully concentrated on his glass of wine on the floor. He stared at the snow falling outside, covering the streets and parked cars in a soft white blanket. He didn’t even notice the person looking at him from across the living room.

“Jimin surely liked the wine.” Someone said and Jimin turned his head to the group of friends at hearing his name being mentioned.

“What?” His tongue felt heavy inside his mouth.

“Hyung! Slow down.” Jungkook poked his waist and Jimin tried to squirm away, the wine waving inside the glass. 

“Shu’ up! Can handle it.” His voice sounded bubbly and funny and Jimin giggled.

Namjoon suggested he should drink water and because Jungkook was being such a tease, Jimin got up on wobbly legs and made his way to the kitchen. Glass of wine still in hand, Jimin squinted his eyes at the cupboards, trying to remember which one contained the cups. He opened one only to find different species, which in his state, Jimin could only recognize pepper.

As he moved onto the next one, a hand came up to open the next cabinet. When Jimin turned his head and found Yoongi grabbing a cup, his chest felt warmer. Something he’d been trying to ignore for the past months.

“Hyung.”

“Here.” Yoongi poured water from the tap and handed it to the blond.

The water felt refreshing going down his throat and Jimin gasped, satisfied, after drinking till the last drop.

“How do you feel?”

“Now I can finish dis’” Jimin grinned, raising his half-drank glass of wine.

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “Maybe you should wait a little- or eat something more.”

“Nu-uh! I’m fine, hyung!” Jimin said more playful and giggled at Yoongi’s expression.

However, Jimin tried to take a step or simply he couldn’t support his own weight, because the next thing he knew was that he was losing balance and a strong grip held him by the waist. Jimin hiccupped and suddenly he saw an expanding burgundy stain on Yoongi’s shirt.

“Oh, shit- ‘M sorry…” Jimin mumbled, feeling totally embarrassed of having made a fool of himself.

He dropped the now empty glass on the counter and grabbed a rag to start cleaning the man’s shirt. “Sorry, hyung, lemme help you.”

“Jimin-ah, it’s alright.” Yoongi gently places his hands on the blond’s shoulders.

“Nuh! Wai- Oh, no!”

The rug and his fingers got stained with wine and that’s when he heard a huff coming out of Yoongi’s lips. The elder slid a hand around his waist and started guiding them to the living room, making sure he wouldn’t fall.

“I’ll grab a shirt.” Yoongi said to nowhere in particular, continuing walking towards what must be Seokjin’s room.

The living room went silent for a moment, but Jimin could only focus on how warm he felt pressed to Yoongi’s side. His mind was in the clouds.

“Sorry, hyung.” Jimin pouted, letting himself be handled by Yoongi. The man sat him by the edge of the bed and moved to open the closet. “Do you forgive me, hyung?”

“Of course I forgive you, Jimin-ah.” Yoongi replied but the pout didn’t leave Jimin’s lips. “You don’t need to apologize; it was an accident.”

“I ruined your shirt.”

“It’s just a shirt.”

Jimin was able to hear rummaging in the closet until he felt something light land on the bed behind him. By the time Jimin turned around, Yoongi had removed his dirty shirt, leaving on display his toned torso. Jimin hiccupped again, feeling his neck and cheeks burning hot.

“You okay?” Yoongi asked, unfolding the baggy t-shirt.

The alcohol felt heavy in his veins, making his thoughts hazy. Jimin stood up and Yoongi was on him immediately. If Jimin wasn’t so drunk, he would have questioned why the man showed such care towards him. He could have let him pass out on the couch besides Taehyung and Namjoon making out. But no. Yoongi brought him to the bedroom, away from the noise.

Yoongi brought him to the bedroom. Where they were alone.

The room was spinning, but all Jimin could concentrate on was the warmth emanating from Yoongi’s skin.

“Hey,” Yoongi whispered. Why was he whispering if there was no one else in the room? Jimin’s gaze dropped to his lips. “Just lay here for a while.”

“You’re beautiful.” Jimin blurted out, eyes falling to Yoongi’s chest.

Jimin could still taste the wine on his tongue. He lifted a hand to softly trade Yoongi’s silver chain. He didn’t even notice the way Yoongi tensed under his touch.

“Jimin-ah.” He sounded more grounded, but Jimin’s hand kept touching the thin chain until it reached the ring hanging from it.

“Why?” Jimin frowned.

“Why what?”

“Why Jimin-ah? I like it better when you call me…

Yoongi was gripping the t-shirt in his hands, while Jimin twisted the ring between his fingers tacky with wine.

“Minnie.”

“Yes, hyung?” Jimin looked up, tilting his head. His eyes were gleaming, a little unfocused, a little aroused.

“You- Yoongi gulped and finally wrapped his fingers around Jimin’s wrist to pull it away. “You’re drunk.”

Jimin snorted. “And?”

“We can’t do anything your dispersed mind is imagining.”

Jimin took a step closer, their hips touching. He felt as bold as he never did before. “And what am I imagining, hyung?”

“Why don’t you tell me tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes, tomorrow.”

Confused, Jimin stumbled back, landing again on the bed.

“You’re confusing, hyung.”

Yoongi seemed amused and he proceeded to put the t-shirt back on. “Am I?”

“I tell you you’re beautiful and you don’t say anything.” Jimin crossed his arms, defiant.

“You don’t think that, your four glasses of wine are speaking.”

“Now that’s a lie! I’ve always thought you were beautiful.”

The need for action was replaced by words. Jimin became such a talker when he got drunk.

“Yeah? Why didn’t you say it before?”

“Do you think I’m beautiful?”

Yoongi wasn’t expecting the question, so he went quiet. Jimin looked back at him, arching an eyebrow. Yoongi scoffed and moved to open the sheets.

“Come on, go to sleep.”

Jimin laughed at his order. He started cackling so loud, but the sound was interrupted by two arms lifting him, one under his knees and the other around his lower back.

“Yoongi!”

The elder ignored his protests and threw him back on the mattress. Drunk or not, Jimin found that hot.

“Sleep with me.” Jimin tried to negotiate, making himself comfortable on the bed.

“No.”

“Hyung! You’re so boring!”

“Now I’m boring?”

“I need to cuddle something.”

“Hug a pillow.”

“Hyung!” Jimin whined, kicking his feet like a kid. “Hyung, hyung, Yoongi hyung-

“Jesus, fine!” Yoongi exclaimed, climbing the bed and crawling past the blond to lay at a reasonable distance.

Jimin didn’t like that and he smiled, mischievously, squirming closer until he wrapped the man’s middle with an arm and propped a leg on top of his.

“Minnie, the monkey.”

“Shut up, hyung.”

Their friends’ voices could be heard from the living room.

“How does it feel to graduate, hyung?” Jimin suddenly asked.

“Terrible.” Yoongi’s lips brushed his blond hair.

Jimin giggled. “How can you say that hyung?” 

“It’s the truth. I’m done with college; I have no excuse now not to be a functioning adult.”

“You already are a functioning adult.”

“I don’t know.”

“You live alone.”

Yoongi hummed.

Jimin rubbed his face on Yoongi’s shoulder, getting more comfortable. “I get it.” He muttered. “Being an adult is scary. Sometimes I think I’m not a real person, yet.”

“Why do you think that?”

“I’m just- I can dance and that’s it. I don’t know how to cook or fold clothes. I have no idea how to do taxes. I’m gonna be a terrible adult.”

A pause.

“You’re an incredible dancer and person.”

Jimin was getting sleepier, he barely opened his mouth to talk.

“Hyung… kind.”

“You’re kind too.” Yoongi’s voice sounded farther away.

“I… Don- don’t stand out or anything.”

The next morning, Jimin woke up alone in the bed with a terrible headache. Seokjin was passed out on the couch and the sounds from the kitchen were product of Yoongi making breakfast. There already was a glass of water and aspirins on the table.

“Something to say?” Yoongi suddenly asked as they were eating and Jimin looked at him wide eyed.

He swallowed the rice and felt too seen under his gaze. “Thank you for breakfast.” Jimin mumbled and Yoongi didn’t say anything back.

Actually, he didn’t even look at him at all for the rest of the meal and Jimin worried if he did or said the wrong thing.

☀️💦🌴

It is a hot summer night.

The windows are open, the tables are full of cocktails and some pop song is blasting through the speakers. Life is good and fun.

And, of course, Jimin is a bit tipsy.

Perhaps Taehyung was right, and this party is what they needed. Jimin got up late and lazed around all day to gain energy for the night. He feels pretty dressed up and with makeup on. He is having fun.

Nothing could be better, Jimin thinks as he finishes his drink, his skin feeling hot and tickly because of the weather and alcohol. His fingers find the chain around his neck, his elbow resting on the back of the sofa so he’s able to face his friend, who hasn’t stopped talking since they sat down. Jimin really wants to pay Jungkook attention, but his gaze inevitably drifts to a spot behind his head, landing on a particular man staring back at him from the kitchen aisle.

Min Yoongi is wearing a black loose shirt, the first couple of buttons off revealing his silver chain hanging from his neck, which is tucked on a pair of tight black slacks. Their friends always wonder how he can wear full black clothes during summer, and a very sober Jimin would tease him about it right now.

However, while Jimin watches him from one of the sofas as Jungkook tells him a story from his last football match, using their empty beer bottles as players, he can’t help but think about one reality: Yoongi looks hot.

Really hot.

When doesn’t he?  

Without realizing, Jimin bites his lower lip as Yoongi takes a sip from his whiskey while he now gazes at Namjoon, who is also speaking besides the man. The fingers of Jimin’s toes curl inside his boots at the sight of Yoongi’s slim and veiny hand wrapping around the thick glass. Damn. 

Jimin is really tipsy, and Yoongi is really hot.

“Hyung, do you want something more to drink?”

Jimin looks at Jungkook with wide eyes, his cheeks coloring a soft shade of pink. “What?” 

Shit, he hopes his friend hasn’t noticed the staring contest.

“We got empty hands.” Jungkook points out, a smirk pulling the right corner of his lips. Always so charming. “Should I get us something else?”

“Oh.” Jimin takes a quick look at the room behind Jungkook’s head. He notices Yoongi is now giving him his back. Interesting. “Alright, let’s find Tae.”

They both get up from the sofa and walk over to the dining table, where Taehyung is chatting with Hoseok, who is being hugged from behind by Seokjin, who is sitting on the table. Whatever works for the couple to keep in contact with each other. Jimin thinks they are cute.

“What’s up?!” Hoseok asks them, a big smile on his tanned face. He always starts to speak in English when he’s drunk.

“Sorry, he’s been asking that question to every person that passes by.” Seokjin shakes his head and chuckles when Hoseok protests.

“We need more drinks!” Jimin pouts, exhibiting his empty bottle.

Taehyung rolls his eyes at Hoseok, before focusing on him. “What do you want, Chim?”

Jimin eyes the table stuffed with liquor and sees something’s missing. 

“Is there rum?” He asks innocently, already knowing the answer.

Taehyung hums. “No, I think there’s more in the kitchen.”

“I'll go get it.” Jungkook offers, leaving his own bottle on the table, ready to turn around and be helpful.

“Nu-uh! I'll go!” Jimin palms Jungkook's left shoulder and doesn’t waste another second to almost jump to the kitchen. He thinks he hears Hoseok and Seokjin laugh behind him but, at this point, he couldn’t care less to be honest.

The kitchen is a bit too crowded for Jimin's taste, there’s even some people standing in front of the open fridge to feel a bit of cold air. He spots the two men from earlier still talking by the aisle, so Jimin leans into it from the other side. The crop top he’s wearing lifts a little, the skin of his abdomen touching the cold ceramic and the sensation is quite gratifying.

“Namjoon hyung, do you know where the rum is?”

In the middle of a sentence, Namjoon closes his mouth to look at Jimin. “Rum?” He scratches his head, his eyebrows furrowing. “I'll check the cabinets.” 

His hyung is always so kind.

Namjoon turns around to check the lower cabinets while he carefully gets some people out of the way. As if he hadn’t noticed the other’s presence, Jimin shifts to look at Yoongi, who is already looking at him. The smile that was previously directed to his hyung now disappears. “Oh, hi Yoongi-ssi.”

Yoongi lets out an airy laugh. “So, we're way back to formalities now?”

Jimin rests his chin in one of his palms. “I don't understand what you mean, Yoongi-ssi.”

Yoongi rests both his forearms on the aisle. The loose shirt reveals more smooth skin of his chest and Jimin suppresses a gasp, forcing himself to keep his eyes on the elder’s. 

“Who would have said that it takes a few shots for Park Jimin to behave?” 

Even though they are a couple feet apart, a whole piece of furniture in the middle, Jimin can smell the characteristic mint and pine perfume. He gulps before speaking.

“Would you prefer it if I didn't behave?” Jimin drags the words, one of his eyebrows arching. It's a party, Jimin is allowed to flirt. “Yoongi-ssi.”

Jimin sees the way Yoongi's dark eyes lower to his cherry lips. Success.

“And what does it take for that?” Yoongi's voice sounds lower than before, more intimate, and the attractive sound has Jimin wetting his lips.

“Here! A bottle of rum!” Namjoon appears again, holding a tall brown bottle up in the air, and Jimin quickly composes himself to grab it.

“Thank you, Namjoon hyung!” His voice sounds pitchier. “See you, Yoongi-ssi.”

He isn’t far enough to not hear a confused Namjoon say: What did I miss?

Jimin smiles, going back to the cocktail table with a bottle of rum in one hand and a certain someone almost wrapped around the other.

It wouldn’t be a party if they didn’t play beer pong.

Jungkook suggests it, like the little competitive shit he is, and Taehyung rearranges the dining table. Seokjin goes to the kitchen to find the plastic balls and Jimin and Hoseok help to fill the cups with drinks and water. Even some people start to gather around the area to see the match.

“So, Hoseok and I will be a team.” Jimin announces, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

Jungkook pouts. “Why, Jiminie? We are always the power duo in beer pong!”

“But Hoba and Jin are both shit at playing, it wouldn’t be fair!”

While Hoseok nods, agreeing with him, Seokjin slams both of his hands at the other side of the table. “Yah, don’t hurt our pride like that, Jiminie!”

“Oh, baby, shut up! If we play together, I’m going to get shit faced.”

“Alright, all set!” Taehyung leans on the table and claps his hands in the middle of the two pairs. “Team KimJeon to my left and Team ParkJung to my right. Let’s play!”

“JeonKim sounds better.” Jungkook points out and Seokjin throws a ping pong ball at him.

The first ball is thrown by Hoseok, which bounces near a cup and ends up falling down the edge of the table. The audience hisses and Jungkook doesn’t try to hide the smug smirk on his face. Jimin grabs a ball and never stops looking at his best friend as he throws the ball and lands in the middle cup. Taehyung bursts out laughing and shouts:

“Point for Team ParkJung!”

The game goes on with Jimin and Jungkook scoring most points. To everyone’s surprise, Seokjin gets better at it at some point, even hitting the dangerous cup that contained a mix of soju, vodka and rum. It is disgusting and Jimin offers to drink it because Hoseok is already showing signs of being shit faced. Every time the other team’s ball lands on a cup of water, Jimin gives it to Hoseok so he can sober up a bit, or at least try. The crowd disperses with the passing of time, finding more interesting things to do. It’s a party after all.

“KimJeon team is only two cups away from victory, meanwhile ParkJung team is fou- Oh, hi there, stranger.” Taehyung interrupts his narration as he’s suddenly hugged from behind by Namjoon.

“Why are you still playing that?” The taller man asks, resting his chin on his boyfriend’s shoulder.

Jimin shakes his head, trying not to get distracted and lifts the ping pong ball in front of his nose. He’s more than tipsy by now, but he still can hold himself in two feet. He’s fine.

“Because it’s fun, Joon!” Taehyung answers.

“You say that because you’re not drinking.”

Jimin scrunches his nose in concentration. He can do this.

But then a deep voice says: “Look at Hoseok’s face.”

He misses.

The orange ball goes catapulted way behind the cups, disappearing in the middle space between Jungkook and Seokjin. He sighs, suddenly feeling warmer and his skin prickling by the feeling of being looked at. He should feel down or embarrassed because he’s fucking losing at beer pong, he should smack Jungkook’s stupid smirk out of his face.

He should feel or think about anything because it’s finally summer and he’s at a party, and not about the way Yoongi’s voice is making him lose his balance.

“Babe, yo-you okay?” Seokjin speaks up at the other side of the dining table.

At the lack of immediate response, Jimin turns to his side to find Hoseok leaning on the table, eyes struggling to keep open.

He huffs out a curse. The music feels too loud all of a sudden.

“Hoseok? Is something wrong?” He steps closer and cups his friend’s face to prevent it from falling. “Do you understand me? Are you alright?”

“I’ll get some water.” He hears Jungkook say, before he sprints off to the kitchen.

But Jimin can’t stop looking at his friend with worry, noticing the slight sweat on his forehead and the redness of his cheeks and ears. Hoseok lifts a hand and sloppily hits his own abdomen. A groan comes out of his mouth instead of words.

No one needs any other information.

“He wants to-

Yoongi starts saying, his voice sounding closer, but Jimin barely has time to register it as he takes one step back at the same time Hoseok is bending in half and pukes. Right on Jimin’s boots.

He really likes these boots.

Seokjin makes his way from the other side and caresses his partner’s back as the boy stabilizes himself. Some people groan as they see the mess on the floor and Jimin can swear he hears the single sound of a camera snapping a picture. When Jungkook comes back with two glasses full of water, he slowly leaves them on the table, avoiding to gaze at Hoseok’s insides splattered all over the floor and Jimin’s boots.

“Let’s take him to the bathroom, he clearly isn’t done.” Jimin mutters, stepping out of the vomit and crushing onto someone’s chest.

He almost forgets he’s been there all this time.

Watching Jimin getting puked on.

A pair of big hands secure on both of his arms, and Jimin really makes an effort to ignore the heat coming off the man’s body. 

“I’ll help you.” Yoongi tells him and his hands squeeze his biceps before going to assist Hoseok to stand up properly.

Jin steps back, eyeing them with worried eyes, but knowing he’s too drunk to carry his boyfriend upstairs. 

On the other hand, Jimin needs to get out of those vomited boots, so he positions himself on Hoseok's right side, putting an arm around his shoulders. Namjoon tells them the rest of them will stay there to clean, and that’s how Jimin and Yoongi carry a very drunk Hoseok upstairs.

“Let’s go to my room.” Jimin announces when they reach the first floor.

His room has a private bathroom and that way he can grab a pair of clean shoes. Yoongi nods, following Jimin’s lead. As if they wouldn’t know where it is, their rooms are in front of the other. Hoseok talks nonsense and giggles when he realizes he’s puked on Jimin’s boots.

“Next time I’ll puke on your bed.” Jimin mutters, trying to crack a joke.

Still, Hoseok laughs like a mad man.

The bedroom is a little messy, his suitcase opened up by the closet because he never bothered to unpack everything properly; clothes thrown out on the floor, some make up scattered on the desk. He untangles himself from his friend to unzip his boots and step out of them, before grabbing them and guiding Yoongi to the bathroom.

“Why’s my room gotten bigger?” Hoseok drags the words and Jimin rolls his eyes, hurrying to open the door and switch the light on.

Hoseok unceremoniously lands near the toilet and both of them grimace because that must have hurt. Jimin walks in to throw the boots in the tub and opens the shower, washing his hands on the way, traces of vomiting sliding down the pipe. It’s disgusting. He sits on his knees next to his very drunk friend. The music sounds far away from there, a muffled beating punching the floor under them.

“Hey, rub your tummy like this.” He says and combs Hoseok’s fringe to expose his forehead. “Did you hear me? Come on, Seokie, like this.”

Jimin’s hand grabs Hoseok’s and presses up the area right under his ribs. He massages the muscle a couple of times before Hoseok throws his head inside the toilet and pukes again. Jimin shushes him and notices the way Yoongi crouches down and rubs their friend’s back.

“It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” Jimin speaks softly.

“I feel like shit.” Hoseok says out of breath, a line of drool hanging from the corner of his mouth, and just as before, he leans in further to vomit some more. 

Guilt tugs at the pit of his stomach as Jimin watches a tear slide down his friend’s cheek after he spits on the toilet. He shouldn’t have let Hoseok play in the first place, knowing how poorly he can manage his drink. It was irresponsible of him. Now, he’s all messed up and it’s his fault.

“Are you done, Seok?” Yoongi asks him, and when Jimin raises his eyes, the man steals a look at him as if he knows what emotions are eating him alive right there.

Jimin plops down on the floor, folding his legs against his chest and letting his back hit the tub.

“Yeah, I’m…” Hoseok speaks and pauses for a moment to gulp loudly. “I’m done.”

When he notices the shower is running, he crawls with his hands and knees to the bathtub and throws his upper body under the artificial rain next to Jimin. He gathers some water with the palm of his hand and spits it after munching on it a couple times.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Jimin wonders, watching the way Hoseok breathes harshly under the water, his hair and Hawaiian shirt soaking fast.

Hoseok sighs. “Sorry about your boots.”

“Don’t worry, hyung.” Jimin bites the inside of his cheek. “We shouldn’t have played so far.”

After running a hand through his hair, Hoseok moves away from the bathtub and the three of them stand up, Jimin reaching his hand to close the shower. Yoongi throws a towel to Hoseok’s head and Jimin is quick to hold him by the waist when the man stumbles.

“The room’s sp-spinning.”

“Let’s get you to bed, alright?” Jimin tells him softly.

Once they are in the bedroom again, Yoongi helps Jimin to put Hoseok on the bed, not before making sure that’s what Jimin really wants.

“I don’t mind.” He mumbles as he goes to grab a dry shirt from his suitcase.

Once he changes his friend and throws the wet shirt on the floor, he covers a halfasleep Hoseok with a blanket. He doesn’t want him to feel cold while his hair is still wet.

They stay in front of the bed for some minutes, just to make sure Hoseok won’t puke again on the pillow.

“Should I make him some tea?” Jimin wonders out loud in a low tone.

“He looks very passed out to me.”

“Maybe I should stay with him, in case something happens.” Jimin says, ready to set himself on the bed too, but a hand on his wrist stops him.

“Jimin-ah, don’t blame yourself.”

Jimin’s able to feel the weight of Yoongi’s gaze on his nape, and gulps as he feels the way the elder’s thumb softly caresses the skin of his wrist.

“I should have noticed sooner.” Finally, Jimin answers.

“You were having fun. It’s not like it hasn’t happened before.” Yoongi tells him, and Jimin arches an eyebrow with the memories. “I’m sure Seokjin will want to stay with him.”

Jimin stares at the boy for a few seconds more, just to make sure he’s really fine, even though by the steady rising of his chest and slightly open mouth, he admits Hoseok must be glad in the land of dreams. Letting a long exhale through his nose, he walks around the bed to the closet, trying not to pay attention to how light his wrist feels without a certain touch of slim and warm fingers around it. He crouches down and blindly rummages through the few shoes he’s brought. It’s not like he has a collection of party shoes to choose from, the now ruined red boots were really his favorite at the moment. 

However, when his hand hits a stiff leather fabric, he freezes in his place.

“Do you need help with that?”

Jimin startles at hearing Yoongi behind him, and suddenly feels shy about grabbing that specific pair of shoes.

“Uhm, no.” He answers, and even though it sounds more like a question, he decides to send his awkwardness to the moon and grab the pair of high boots. He bought them to wear them, right?

When he stands up again, he hides them behind his back while Yoongi is looking at him. With his wavy black hair (product of the humid weather), his loose shirt revealing the beginning of a couple of sharp collarbones; with his perfectly shaped lips slightly parted and cat-like dark eyes he would easily get lost into. The light from the hallway filters from the crooked door and the pale skin of his profile tints a warm shade, making it look even smoother.

“What are you hiding?”

His Adam’s apple bobs when he speaks, and his deep voice almost makes Jimin’s knees buckle. He tries to gulp subtly.

“N-nothing.”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, the silence stretching around them like a tight string pulling between them; the sound of the party fading even more to a farther background. Then, he’s taking one step closer, and Jimin takes one back almost unconsciously.

“If you have nothing, show me your hands then.” Yoongi says casually, and Jimin feels hot all of a sudden.

“If you want me to show you my hands, you’re gonna have to make me.” 

The words are out of his mouth before he’s able to control them and he shuts his lips, warmth taking over his cheeks in embarrassment.

Damn it! Why did he say that?

The moment Jimin looks up to the man again, he is surprised to see a smirk growing on Yoongi’s lips. And when the elder takes two steps closer this time, Jimin finds himself caged between him and the closet door. Jimin can feel his heart beating wildly against his chest, he can hear the way his blood rushes faster inside his veins it almost makes him lightheaded.

Their gazes never break as Yoongi’s arms move forward to circle around his waist, hands slowly trading against his cropped t-shirt to his arms, reaching down to grab the pair of boots trapped behind the younger’s back. Something in his expression shifts, when Yoongi discovers the black leather high boots are now in his possession and Jimin obliges himself to breathe through his nose for fear of letting out any telltale sound.

Yoongi doesn’t utter either a word nor a sound, his expression soft in contrast with the intensity of his gaze, and only gets down on one knee placing the boots on the floor. Then, he offers a hand like he’s asking for permission and Jimin feels so heavy with his back pressed onto the closet door, the textured wood adapting to his skin, as if it could swallow him at any second.

Jimin begins raising one of his feet, still too stunned and confused by Yoongi’s actions, but everything changes the second the elder flicks his hand to lift Jimin’s leg. The man glances up at him, making sure if Jimin’s alright but the red head remains frozen, gripping his hands so hard behind his back that they hurt. He doesn’t know how he does it, but Jimin manages to give him a small nod, encouraging to keep going.

The elder’s big hand wraps around his calf, calloused fingers holding the smooth flesh, and inserts the high boot from his foot all the way up to his knee. The leather adjusts around his leg the more Yoongi slides the zipper up in such a slow and measured time, as if he’s determinedly calculating it. Jimin doesn’t realize he’s started to breathe through his mouth, because fuck his sanity right now, the beat of his heart pulsing in his throat.

Yoongi fulfills the same process with the other boot, lifting his right leg and holding it behind his knee, and Jimin has to bite his lower lip to not say something bold and stupid, like asking for him to keep touching above, maybe a bit under his skirt. The man’s dark gaze never meets his eyes, always focusing on his legs, eyebrows furrowing in slight concentration. Jimin even considers the possibility that he might be hallucinating or having a very lucid dream, but the moment Yoongi stands centimeters from him, heights more aligned now that he’s wearing heels again, reality strikes him like lightning.

They just look at each other, the shadows of the room covering their figures like a familiar blanket willing to keep the secret of their unspoken desire.

Why do I want to step forward? Why do I want to feel his hands again?

However, Jimin knows at that moment that it isn’t a matter of questions but denied answers.

And just like the electrifying tension builds around them, it is destroyed by the sound of a slammed door and the incomprehensible whines of a still drunk Kim Seokjin. Jimin hurries out of his room, desperately needing fresh air and, maybe, another drink to calm his nerves.

It's past two in the morning when Jimin and Jungkook are talking outside by the pool.

The temperature is still high, surely above twenty degrees. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to wear high leather boots after all, but after the moment he spent up there with Yoongi, he doesn’t mind at all. Or perhaps, just a little. Because despite being millimeters apart in Jimin’s room, Yoongi doesn’t go back to him. Quite the opposite, Yoongi seems to be going in the opposite direction to where he is. While Taehyung, Jungkook and him are dancing in the living room, being silly and swaying their hips together, Yoongi stands in the kitchen, arms folded over his chest as if he is already bored of the party. But more than once Jimin catches him looking his way, and Jimin swings his hips a little harder in hopes that Yoongi would drop his killjoy act and join him. The feeling of the elder’s fingers tracing imaginary lines on his skin makes him feel hotter, and Jimin allows himself to get lost in the music. 

Yoongi never joins him, of course. And later when Jimin goes to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, Yoongi watches him from a corner but then disappears. it’s starting to drive Jimin crazy.

Like right now, as they are sitting in one of the deckchairs, Namjoon and Yoongi are talking by the threshold, the pool in the middle with some people swimming on it.

“When’s the end of the season, Kook?” Asks Jimin, folding one leg on top of the other and leaning back a bit, his hand propped back against the thin pillow that covers the deckchair.

Jungkook purses his lips and takes one sip of his beer. “We have one match next week and if we win, we will pass to the finals.”

“Cool! Shouldn’t you slow down a bit with that?”

“Aish, hyung, I have time to recover.” Jungkook replies, laying down on the deckchair and resting his feet on the redhead’s lap.

“Yah, if you want to be professional, you need to gain discipline. You're an artist too, you should know it.”

“You used to drink during finals season too!”

“That was different!” Jimin gaps. “I’ve never taken a sip before a presentation.”

“Anyway,” Jungkook squints his eyes. “Smart choice of boots.”

Jimin bites his lower lip. “Are they too much?”

“Yoongi hyung can’t stop staring at you.”

“Jungkook!”

“What? It’s true!” Jungkook takes off his legs from Jimin’s lap and slides closer to his friend. “He always looks at you.”

Jimin avoids his gaze. “That’s not true.” 

“Stop acting so blind, Jiminie. Hyung always pays you attention.”

“Hardly to believe, we barely speak. Either I stutter like an awkward teenager, or he ignores my presence completely.”

“You’re both so stubborn.”

Feeling caged with the conversation, Jimin stands from the deckchair. 

“Where are you going?”

“I need some air.”

“We’re outside.”

“I need to be alone then.”

“Don’t torture yourself, hyung-

Jimin walks away before Jungkook can add anything else. Beer in hand.

It’s such a warm night, sweat is emanating from his neck and legs, and the bitter taste of beer jumps on his tongue. To his luck, Taehyung's beach house is huge and Jimin knows this part of the deck is a bit hidden from the rest, so he sits at the edge with his half-naked legs swinging in the air. It would have been a waste not to wear the plaid skirt his mom got him last week, as a present for passing another year.

Resting back on his elbows, Jimin stares at the night sky, admiring the beauty of the shining stars. He smiles to himself, feeling warm and fuzzy inside out.

When they began this trip, Jimin felt excited and hopeful about spending more time with his friends, but especially with Yoongi. Meanwhile he’s having a good time, his own feelings are getting confusing, and he doesn’t know what to do with them anymore. He could risk everything and confess to the elder, and perhaps lose a friendship and make their group of friends awkward- Jimin doesn’t want that. He is confused and afraid and wishes Yoongi would say something. Anything. But if he doesn’t feel the same way, not even in the slightest, what is there to say at all? 

Jimin gulps the rest of his beer and wishes he had another. All the mixing is starting to catch up on him, his limbs feeling numb. 

Perhaps it’s the alcohol making him nostalgic or the pretty night sky, but in a way of distraction, his mind wanders back in time to all the things he overcame this past year, like dealing with a small injury that kept him away from dance practice for weeks. He thinks about the support he received from his friends and family and all the effort he made, just to replace the pain and frustration with confidence and pride. Now look at him, soon to be a college senior and feeling so good and comfortable in his own skin.

Until it comes to-

“What are you smiling at?”

Jimin sits up, looking behind his shoulder, only to find Yoongi approaching him. New whiskey glass on hand.

“Just… thinking.” 

“Anything you want to share with the class?” Yoongi sits beside him, maybe a bit closer than what they’re usually used to. Jimin doesn’t complain.

“You’re lame, hyung.” He giggles.

Yoongi is always making teacher jokes that no one laughs at, and Jimin won’t admit it out loud that he finds them kinda hot. And cute.

It’s different from the moment they shared upstairs with Yoongi putting him in the high boots, silence and darkness bottling their intentions (or at least Jimin’s true ones). 

“Now I'm lame.”

“I'm just- I don’t know.” He shrugs, the small smile still on his face.

Yoongi looks at it and his lips curve slightly too. Jimin likes his smile so much, he wishes he could see it every day, maybe even be the reason behind it. Lord, he’s drunk. Yeah, it must be that.

“It’s okay not to know how we feel sometimes.” Yoongi nods and turns his head to look at the view.

The beach can be seen from there.

I do know. I like you and I don’t know what to do about it.  

They stay like that for a couple of minutes, admiring the scene ahead of them, the murmur of the music and people’s voices far behind them. It's nice.

“So, are you sober now?” Yoongi asks after a long and comfortable silence.

Jimin looks at his profile. He thinks it’s as pretty as the ocean at night. Probably more. “What do you mean?”

“No more formalities?” The man looks back at Jimin, arching one of his eyebrows.

Jimin huffs. “Have I looked sober at all tonight, Yoongi-ssi?”

Yoongi only takes a sip from his whiskey.

“And what about you? Aren’t you bored of drinking just that?”

“No.” Yoongi shrugs.

Jimin likes talking with Yoongi. He doesn’t know why they can’t have these moments more often, and not only in the middle of a party or club.

“Can I try?” Jimin suddenly asks.

Yoongi is surprised, but he still answers, “Be my guest.”

When Yoongi extends his arm to give him the glass, Jimin shakes his head. “You hold it.”

The Adam's apple bobs up and down inside his throat when Yoongi swallows hard before bringing the fancy crystal glass to Jimin's lips. He can’t back down now, so Jimin tries to look at Yoongi's dark eyes under his arched lashes during the whole process. And what should be a sexy moment, ends up being an embarrassing coughing attack.

“How can you drink that?!”

Yoongi laughs so loud, warmth creeps into Jimin's cheeks. Yoongi’s laugh is pretty too.

The only few drops are still burning his mouth, so Jimin lifts his hand to clean the liquor off of it. At that, Yoongi grows quiet.

“Hey.” He says and his voice sounds lower like before when they were in the kitchen. Like it’s only meant for Jimin to hear.

Jimin freezes to look at him with big eyes.

Yoongi leaves the whiskey glass on the deck and then his hand travels up to lift Jimin's chin in a slow and soft move. Jimin tries to find the man’s gaze but Yoongi is busy staring down his face. With the help of his thumb, Yoongi cleans Jimin’s lips in an even slower move. Jimin can’t breathe.

“I like this lipstick.” Yoongi compliments him and it’s like time has slowed down all of a sudden.

Jimin blushes. 

“Thank you.”

“I like the color. It suits you and your hair.”

Yoongi's talking about Jimin's red hair.

“It’s cherry.”

There's an implied question, a new and strong tension hanging in the air, and they’re both very aware of it. He can blame the heat, the alcohol or his high state of mind, but Jimin can’t lie to himself anymore. Not when the whole night he’s been exchanging secret looks with the older man; not when he’s been daydreaming about being close to him, about how it must feel to be touched by him. Yoongi's hand doesn’t leave Jimin's chin.

“How am I behaving now, Yoongi-ssi?” Jimin whispers and suddenly, Yoongi's lips are very close to his own. Jimin won’t back down and he hopes Yoongi won’t either.

The mint perfume is so strong and the whiskey aroma that comes out of Yoongi's mouth doesn’t bother him at all now. Jimin likes it. He craves it. It's intoxicating.

Jimin wants to taste the whiskey just as Yoongi desires to taste the cherry flavor.

Their noses are brushing the moment Yoongi whispers: “Minnie- “

“Cannon ball!”

The sound of a splash makes them separate instantly; the intimate atmosphere completely ruined by some jerk throwing themselves to the pool.

Jimin's heart is bumping on his chest and there’s a ticklish sensation where Yoongi's hand was on his body. Where Yoongi's breath hit his face. 

“What the fuck is your problem?!”

After hearing those words, Jimin and Yoongi share a strange look. Yoongi helps him stand up and they both walk out the hidden place; Yoongi’s hand never leaves Jimin's back, making him feel all fuzzy and warm both inside and outside.

Jimin spots a guy in the pool completely soaked and a pair of glasses floating on the water.

“Yah! We just wanted a bit of fun!” A blonde guy wearing only trunks says, standing on the deck. Jimin knows they are from Taehyung's faculty.

“Well throw yourself at the damn pool instead, asshole.” The guy in the pool says and he sounds pissed.

“What did you just call me?” Blonde guy crouches down at the edge of the pool.

There’s going to be a potential fight and no one’s doing anything. Shit, Taehyung must be still inside preparing cocktails.

“Hey.” Jimin walks over the pool, leaving the warmth of Yoongi's hand on his back behind. He extends his arm to help the guy come out. “Take my hand.”

The guy with the glasses takes a look at Jimin and, after hesitating for some seconds, he goes to the edge and takes Jimin's hand. Water pours out his clothes as he gets out of the pool and Jimin is about to tell him that he’ll bring a towel. But a clap behind them interrupts him.

“What do we have here? The princess saving the frog?”

What an asshole indeed. Jimin turns on his heels to face the jerk blonde guy. “You shouldn’t bother people just because you’re a loser who can’t have his own fun.”

“So would you have fun with me, princess?” Blonde guy wraps his arm around Jimin’s waist in a quick move, and Jimin doesn’t have time to react because someone else is already pushing the idiot away.

“Don’t fucking touch him!” Yoongi stands in front of Jimin, separating them.

“And who the fuck are you?”

“You’ll fucking regret it if you dare to touch him or anyone else in this house again.”

Yoongi never gets mad. Like ever. He's always been a very quiet and tranquil person. Always his face drowned reading a book, revising his student’s essays or offering to help with whatever needs to be done. Because, in reality, Yoongi is one of the kindest and most peaceful people in the world.

“Yoongi.” Jimin tries to get his attention by also touching his shoulder, and he is able to feel the tense muscles under his palm.

Yoongi ignores him and almost growls his next words in front of the guy’s face: “Get the fuck out.”

“Shut-

“Do what he says, Daehyun.” Namjoon walks out the French doors and stands with his arms crossed over his chest.

Relief washes over Jimin’s chest.

“Yah, Namjoon, you can’t just kick me out man.” Daehyun pleads and it looks a bit pathetic.

Not so tough now?, Jimin thinks.

“This is my boyfriend’s house and I'll kick out whoever I have to.”

The people who were drinking around the deck, now look at the scene in silence. Not even the funky music calms the tension.

Jimin lowers his hand to Yoongi's arm, and he notices the way his clenched jaw relaxes.

“Don’t make it difficult. Take your friends too.” Namjoon sentences, without giving the chance of second thoughts.

Daehyun huffs in disbelief and starts walking inside the house. Two guys follow him too and Namjoon disappears to make sure they all leave through the front door for good. People start gossiping about what just happened.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi turns around and cups Jimin’s face as he examines every part of it.

Jimin nods, feeling nervous, and not knowing where to look. “Yeah...”

The encounter made him sober up a bit and now he’s too aware of Yoongi's proximity. And it feels too much.

“Thank you, I… I'll go get him a towel.”

Jimin steps back, already feeling drunk again by Yoongi's heat and perfume. He tells the glasses guy to wait for him and quickly heads inside to the upstairs bathroom, knowing there won’t be anybody. He can tell some people are talking about what happened outside and he also hears Jungkook calling his name, but he decides to ignore him and run upstairs instead. 

Once he’s locked inside the bathroom, Jimin exhales a long sigh. He supports his weight on the sink, trying to process everything that occurred in the last fifteen minutes. He was sitting alone, then Yoongi came. And they talked, laughed and stayed quiet. And then talked for some more, Jimin choked on whiskey and Yoongi touched his lips and then… Almost kiss. Shit, Jimin almost kisses Yoongi. And Yoongi almost kisses him. It’s obvious they both wanted the same thing. Was it a casualty from their drinks? No, probably they would have already kissed if both of them were very drunk.

Shit, Jimin almost kisses Yoongi.

He opens the faucet to wet his hands and Jimin brings them to his heated neck, although it doesn’t seem enough. When he looks at the washcloth on the vanity, he remembers he has to give a towel to the glasses guy. At this point, the boy will dry out because of the summer weather.

Before heading out, Jimin takes a last look in the mirror and composes himself. He can do this. Yoongi wanted to kiss him too. He defended him from that Daehyun jerk. There are signs and, well, Jimin must be reading them right. Maybe Jungkook’s right and he can only hope now that Yoongi at least feels something for him too. Still, why does he feel hesitant?

As he makes his way back to the deck, Jimin can notice a change in the atmosphere. The music is playing a little lower than before and most people are just drinking or talking. Definitely the incident killed off a little the party vibes. Glasses guy is sitting in one of the lounge chairs and is chatting with some girl. He gives him the towel and glasses guy thanks him; he learns his name is Jewon.

“Hyung!”

Jungkook finds him when he’s entering the house again.

“I saw what happened, are you alright?” Jungkook puts an arm around his shoulders.

“Yes, I’m okay, Kook.” Jimin nods and looks around, trying to find Yoongi. He sees Namjoon and Taehyung stealing kisses from each other in a corner.

“What an asshole. Good thing Yoongi hyung was there to save the night.” Jungkook pinches his ribs.

“Have you seen Yoongi?” Jimin asks, ignoring Jungkook’s suggestive raise of eyebrows.

His expression drops. “No, he kind of disappeared.”

Jimin’s heart drops as he continues to look around for any sign of the elder, but it seems that maybe he has retired to his room. A mix of sadness and disappointment tugs at his stomach and when Jungkook and him make their way inside the house, Jimin accepts the beer he’s handed.

They sit on the couch and talk, with Jungkook doing most of the conversation. Jimin’s gaze wanders around the room, expecting to see Yoongi at any second. There’s a jazz song playing on the speakers now, and Jimin recognizes it from Taehyung’s playlist. He drinks another beer. He’s begun to feel sleepy already, his eyelids feeling heavier than before. Jungkook taps his fingers on the bottle to the beat of the music. Yoongi is nowhere to be seen. They almost kissed and Yoongi disappeared.  He squirms closer to his friend and closes his eyes at some point.

Being curled up next to Jungkook feels too comfortable and the party sounds become white noise as Jimin’s mind drifts off. He yawns with his mouth closed and focuses on the instrumental music, on the vibrations that emanate from Jungkook’s torso when he laughs. He focuses on how Yoongi hums, how he babbles some syllables; on the way his voice never falters, always so confident and clear. A teacher’s voice. He remembers how Yoongi pronounced his name on the deck. As if he wanted to tell him a secret. And plant it on Jimin’s lips. He focuses on everything and nothing at the same time, trying to avoid the emptiness that Yoongi’s absence leaves.

And just like that, Jimin falls asleep.

A loud and sharp sound wakes Jimin up.

As he rubs his eyes, he notices the room is still dark. What time is it? Jimin rolls on the bed and extends his arm to fish his phone on the bedside table. He palpates the wooden surface with his hand only to find nothing. Strange. He lifts his face from the pillow and looks to the table only to find it empty, except for the lamp.

Another thunder roars in the sky and at that moment Jimin realizes it’s pouring outside. He sits on the bed, stretching his arms and yawning loudly in the process. 

Wait. 

This isn’t his room. 

Jimin squints his eyes around, already feeling a pain strike on his temple. When his gaze lands on the other bedside table, his eyes widen so big and even his jaw drops open. A historical novel rests there, a thickness that reveals more than five hundred pages, patiently waiting to be opened and read. Shit. What the hell happened last night?

As panic builds in his guts, Jimin pulls the covers off him and a high pitched shout leaves his lips. These aren't his pajamas! This isn’t definitely his old college shirt nor the peach pants he usually wears to sleep. No. These pajamas are soft, ironed and elegant. He pulls the fabric to his nose, and it smells like a sweet citric. A beautiful black set of pajamas is what Jimin is carrying on his body right now. Oh Lord, are these… Yoongi’s? Jimin covers his mouth with his small hands as he gazes around. 

If this is his room, where’s Yoongi now?

Usually, Jimin isn’t a paranoid person, but he was a bit drunk last night. The last thing he remembers is that jazz music was playing, and he dozed off on the couch with Jungkook. How did he end up in Yoongi's room wearing Yoongi’s clothes?

Peeking through the door, Jimin notices that all the rooms in the hallway are still closed, including his own. He is debating whether or not he should enter, when his stomach growls, the hunger growing fast and making his insides twist. Maybe Jimin was so drunk, his friends dumped him in the first room they reached, forcing Yoongi, probably, to switch rooms with him. 

That doesn’t explain the fancy pajamas though.

The first floor is a mess. 

Bottles of every type of alcohol, beer and soda cans, plastic glasses, trampled chips sprawled all over the floor and furniture. If Jimin made such a mess in his house, his mother would disinherit him.

Scratching the back of his neck, he makes his way to the kitchen to gulp a glass of fresh and cold water. But his plan is interrupted by a presence in the living room. Jimin stops on his tracks to look at the person sleeping on the couch and his heart bumps against his ribs when he sees that the person is no one else but Yoongi.

The Yoongi who Jimin almost kissed last night. The one who is still wearing yesterday's clothes and is peacefully sleeping on the living room’s sofa and not on his bed, where he should be, because Jimin was the one who slept there, wearing his pajamas.

It’s as if Jimin is still dreaming. Is he still drunk? Is he hallucinating? 

There’s a numb sensation flooding his entire body. His own weight floating above the ground, although there’s something wrong with his heart. It feels heavy. And erratic.

Jimin always believed one could control their own dreams.

Guess he is wrong about this one.

Lunch time arrives and Jimin dares to go out of the bedroom when he hears voices downstairs. Hoseok’s laughter to be more specific. In the hallway, there are some doors still closed, so he guesses not everyone is up yet. Jimin really wants to shower, but the moment he smells something very similar to tteokbokki, his stomach growls and he goes down the stairs as slow as possible.

Of course, he steps on the first floor seconds later, and the first thing he notices is that it’s quite clean now. And the sofa is empty. Maybe he should lock himself up and starve for the rest of the day.

Keeping a slow pace, Jimin walks to the kitchen, feeling his nerves tickle his insides. Well, it’s not that he’s planning to run away, as if he didn’t have that same thought two seconds ago. He can’t do that. And a big part of him doesn’t want to, neither. 

Jimin sees the way Jungkook throws a cherry tomato to Hoseok’s mouth and fails. They are both sitting on the opposite ends of the aisle. Hoseok laughs and claps, before getting off from the stool to pick up the tomato from the floor.

“Jiminie!” Jungkook grins at him.

At the mention of his name, Yoongi turns around his head where he’s cooking on the counter.

“Hey.” Jimin sits on the stool next to Jungkook’s right and fiddles with his fingers on his lap, ignoring a certain someone’s pair of eyes.

“Yah, Jimin, you look really nice with those pajamas.” Hoseok says, sounding alarmingly genuine to Jimin’s embarrassment.

The redhead opens his mouth to answer but not a single syllable leaves his shocked body. He feels Jungkook shift beside him, turning on his side until his foot kicks his leg in a soft move, a silent way of asking if everything’s okay. Jimin just continues to play with his fingers, his hands hidden under the aisle, an awkward silence thickening in the room. 

“Food’s ready.”

The tension is broken by a deep voice and it’s Yoongi who places a pot of tteokbokki on the aisle, making their friends coo very amused by the delicious sight in front of them.

“Thanks for the food, hyung!” Jungkook says while he pours some food into his bowl with the ladle.

“Smells so good!” Hoseok rubs his hands with excitement as he waits his turn to serve himself a portion.

When a steamy bowl full of tteokbokki is set in front of him, Jimin snaps his head to the side, where Yoongi is taking the seat beside him. He wonders if the elder is acting so calm by nature or if he’s very good at hiding the same storm of nerves that is currently unleashing inside Jimin’s chest. 

The night before he was the one leaning on this very aisle with the mischievous purpose of teasing the man, who also happened to almost kiss a couple of hours later. While last night Jimin was feeling hot and playful, this morning it’s like a veil of shyness and cautiousness covers his bare skin, looking nothing like the black silk dressing his body.

Jimin feels like everybody can listen to the sound of his heart.

Thankfully, neither Hoseok nor Jungkook comment about Yoongi and Jimin’s weird interaction and begin to eat with enthusiasm while repeating over and over how delicious it tastes.

Jimin can feel a certain warmth burning his skin, and it isn’t coming from the pot of food. Lord, why can’t he compose himself? 

“Thank you.” He murmurs his gratitude as he watches the hand resting firmly on Yoongi’s leg, the same one that held the whiskey glass for him and then tilted his jaw to trade his lower lip with its thumb-

Stop it.

“Let’s eat.” 

Staring at his bowl of food with mortification, Jimin totally misses the way Yoongi looks at him with a soft fondness he’s only ever imagined in his dreams.

It’s a bit weird, the silence, a bit foreign. Jimin never hesitated in having a conversation with Yoongi in the past, always felt comfortable enough around him to entertain any kind of topic, such as one as plain as the weather or something more interesting and complicated like ancient dynasty politics or the draining consumer society they all live in. It’s always been easy between them, one comment turning into a whole conversation, both parts listening and intervening actively. But now it’s strange. It has been like that ever since Yoongi went to support him at his recital. Because now, Jimin gets nervous at the simple thought of asking Yoongi for a napkin or suddenly feels too aware of the way he’s sitting or holding his chopsticks. Jimin feels too aware of his own body when he’s close to Yoongi, and that’s something that didn’t happen before last night.

So, as the four of them sit around the aisle, bellies full of the warm food, Jimin lets his mind fly away from the room, worrying if his actions of last night were actually a mistake.

“If it keeps raining like this, we won’t be able to go to the beach.” Hoseok laments and Jimin unconsciously pouts at the idea.

“You can go.” Jungkook says, mouth full of his third portion of tteokbokki. “Just take an umbrella with you.”

“Where’s the fun of going to the beach if it’s raining?”

“Run with Jin hyung on the sand and kiss him like in a romantic movie.”

“Disgusting.” Hoseok sticks his tongue out and Jungkook giggles. “Ah, Jiminie, sorry we accidentally ended up in your room last night. Jin fell straight on the mattress knocked out and well, I can’t carry that giant like a sack of potatoes.”

The small conscious part in his mind warns him the way he’s being addressed at the moment and Jimin blinks at Hoseok, remembering what his friend just said seconds ago.

“It’s alright.” Jimin can feel Yoongi’s gaze on him and his shoulders tense. He can see those dark irises from the corner of his eye, and he doesn’t dare to meet them.

“Hyung fell asleep on the couch.” Jungkook laughs and Jimin already feels embarrassed by where the conversation is turning, cheeks already turning pink. “And then-

“When did everybody leave?” Instead, Jimin asks, voice higher than usual, shamelessly changing the conversation topic.

Jungkook purses his lips and hums, the metal ring reflecting the kitchen light. “Around four or five, right hyung?”

The pang in Jimin’s chest deflates a bit when no one questions his weird behavior, until he notices Jungkook is addressing-

“I think so.” Yoongi answers, the most casual tone one could ever use.

“It was after Yoongi hyung and I carried you to his bedroom.” Jungkook reveals, not letting the matter go.

Jimin feels mortified. One of the chopsticks falls inside the bowl and he’s pretty sure everyone can see the deep blush creeping on his neck and cheeks.

He’s being obvious in a level his sober self can’t take.

In the afternoon, the rain doesn’t cease so Seokjin, now awake and bored, suggests they should watch a movie.

After lunch, Jimin runs upstairs to take a shower and finally changes into his own clothes (leaving the captivating mint perfume behind), and later he pretends not to see Yoongi’s look when the older notices Jimin isn’t wearing the black pajamas anymore.

Now, they all sit in front of the TV distributed along the sofas, except for Tae and Namjoon who are still sleeping, hopefully, in their room. Jimin cuddles next to Jungkook after Jin said they’ll watch a horror movie. Yoongi decides to sit on the armchair opposite of him, and Jimin decides not to think too much about it. None of them had the courage to speak a word about last night so far, and Jimin is still too scared to initiate anything. The book that was on the night table now rests on his lap, and Jimin recognizes it because it was one of the first things he saw when he woke up. A pair of round glasses rest on the bridge of Yoongi’s nose and Jimin thinks they are too low and wants to get up and fix them. But he won’t.

“Hyung.” Jungkook whispers very softly. No one turns around to look at them.

“Yes?” Jimin whispers back.

“The movie started.”

Jimin was staring, right?

“I know.”

In the middle of the movie, Taehyung appears and plops down on the carpet, resting his head on Jimin’s thigh. He starts to ask questions about the plot and Jungkook and Jin answer him, seeming very immersed in the story. Hoseok snores softly on Jin’s shoulder.

As everyone is distracted by the movie and Tae’s comments, Jimin takes the opportunity to look up only to find Yoongi reading the novel. One of his legs is crossed on top of the other and he rests the book there, his big hands securing it in place. His black hair falls on his forehead, some strands forming natural curls because of the humid weather. The glasses still rest too low on his nose and his pink lips are shaped in a subtle pout. Jimin thinks Yoongi looks good while reading. All cozy and cute. In the past, he always had to hear the way Taehyung drooled about Namjoon looking hot while taking notes from his thick psychology textbook and Jimin would always nod, barely paying attention to his best friend. Now, Jimin might understand Taehyung.

When the movie ends, Jungkook suggests they should play another one and Jimin stands up to grab a snack or else he’ll fall asleep. To be honest, his hangover mood can’t deal with concentrating on something for too long. 

The rain ceased its fall a while ago, and from the kitchen window Jimin is able to see the wet sand being a darker shade and the sea waves breaking wilder on the shore. In the living room, Taehyung and Jungkook imitate the movie’s intro music.

Jimin leaves the snack bag on the counter and sneaks out from the back french doors. No one notices him. He follows the side path from the deck to the beach.

The air is colder than yesterday, and the gray clouds still cover the sky, which means it will probably rain again. The sand is cold too and more compact and Jimin loves the way it gets between his toe fingers.

The sea sounds must be one of Jimin’s favorites. It’s the sound of home, of comfort and safety. 

Growing up in Busan meant watching the sea regularly, every morning on his way to school and every afternoon on his way back home. It meant long days on the beach with his mother and brother during the weekends, building sandcastles and playing volleyball very badly. He’s been remembering those moments a lot lately, especially with summer peeking around the corner, thinking how long it’s been since the last time he visited his hometown.

There was a time when Jimin believed he would never find a home like the one in Busan, never would have to say goodbye to that sea that witnessed so many memories, that watched him grow up. A connection with the ocean is created with those born alongside it, his mother used to say, and Jimin learned that despite anywhere in the world he might go, the sea will always call his name and he will answer. The sea will always be his home.

So that’s how he’s finding himself breathing the salty air and contemplating the gray tide with a peaceful heart.

“What are you smiling at?”

Jimin jumps on his place as he turns to the side to find Yoongi standing a few meters from him, hands hidden in the front pockets of his pants. He’s not wearing his glasses anymore and the weak breeze ruffles his wavy hair falling on his forehead.

“Yoongi.” He breathes out.

The name comes out so easily from Jimin’s mouth.

“Park Jimin.”

“What are you doing here?”

Despite the chilly weather, the temperature of Jimin’s body begins to rise with the man’s proximity. He looks at the waves crashing in front of him, suddenly too nervous to maintain gazes.

“Just felt like catching some fresh air.” 

Beside him, Yoongi imitates him, the ghost of a smirk around his lips as he stares at the sea.

“Oh.”

It’s all Jimin can say, and he bites the inside of his cheek as he regrets the slight taint of disappointment that slipped out on his tone. Were you expecting something else? 

“Did you sleep well?”

“I’m sorry?” 

Jimin’s voice sounds pitchy and when he turns to look at Yoongi with wide eyes, the elder is already looking at him.

“Did you have a good sleep?” Yoongi repeats.

Jimin gulps. “Uh, yes, thank you.”

A big wave lands on the shore and the water flows until it barely touches their fingers. Although it’s freezing, neither of them flinches. They just keep looking at each other, and when the elder’s heavy dark gaze starts to feel like too much, Jimin drags his eyes to the horizon again.

“Since Hoseok and Jin were using your room” Yoongi begins and Jimin mentally prepares to talk about that. “I suggested we accommodated you in mine for you to be comfortable.”

“That’s…” Why does Jimin feel so flustered? “Very kind of you, hyung.”

“Jungkook helped you get into bed.” Yoongi quickly adds and Jimin knows what he’s referring to.

The wearing his pajamas situation.

“I understand.”

When is he going to say it?

Silence settles between them until the redhead breaks it, fidgety.

“Hyung.” Jimin murmurs, feeling his heart racing fast. “I…-

“How much of last night do you remember?”

The question catches Jimin off guard. “What do you mean?”

Yoongi’s expression turns bitter. “I understand.” He nods, and it seems like an answer is forming in his mind, a realization that Jimin has no idea what is about. No, Yoongi looks disappointed. 

Jimin panics. “What do you understand?”

“It’s just how things are always with you. I understand now.” Finally, Yoongi turns to glance at him and Jimin doesn’t like at all the coldness in his eyes.

What is happening?

“I- I don’t understand, hyung.”

“Why every time you talk to me are you drinking?”

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t word that well.” Yoongi smirks but it looks forced. “I was wondering, why every time you show interest in me you are trying to get drunk?”

Jimin freezes. He doesn’t know what to answer. He can’t answer.

“I- He stutters, words screaming to be set free, but not a single syllable comes out right.

The waves crush next to them. Loud.

“You’re the only person I can’t read properly. Either you barely talk with me, or don’t even look at me at all. But when we go out, you do all those things with a glass in your hand.”

“I don’t do that.” Jimin even blatantly tries to lie to himself.

“I like you, Park Jimin. In more ways that even myself is scared to venture. However, despite my feelings towards you, my heart feels more inclined to take a step back and continue to wait for a clear sign. If there’s an intention of a clear sign.”

Yoongi just said he liked him. Jimin can’t believe it. Yoongi likes him. He was going to kiss him because he likes him. But Jimin had too much alcohol in his system, so he refrained from the impulse.

His eyes turn glassy, but he blames it on the salty air.

“Hyung,-

“At first I thought you were playing, that you didn’t mean it.” Yoongi continues, and there’s desperation in his tone. “But it kept happening. We would go out and you would get drunk and say a lot of things you wouldn’t remember the next day. But I did. I do. And after months it began to hurt, but despite my sorrow, sometimes I decided to be selfish and let myself be pulled to you. And last night happened, so I need you to tell me, Jimin-ah, if your intentions have a clear meaning or are hidden behind a blurred judgment.”

“Do you like me?”

Yoongi looks at him in disbelief, that after everything he just said Jimin only picks that information, even though he hides it quickly. “Yes.” He doesn’t hesitate. “I like you, Park Jimin.”

His chest feels tight when he takes one step closer and the man doesn’t back down. Yoongi stays. No, Yoongi waits. It’s time to say it.

“I like you too.”

“What?”

He feels lighter now that he's said it. Speaking his next words turns easier.

“I’m sorry, I- I just didn’t know how to act with my feelings. I was afraid of not being reciprocated and that that would ruin our friendships. And the truth is you make me so fucking nervous all the time, as if my heart is ready to jump out of my chest to land right at the center of your palm. That scared me- scares me still. I’m sorry I acted foolishly, I wasn’t aware that I was also hurting you along the way.”

“You couldn’t have known.” Yoongi mutters.

They stare at each other’s eyes for a while, forgetting about the ocean breeze and the crushing of waves.

“Hyung.”

“Come here, Minnie.”

Jimin doesn’t waste another second, he hurries to hug Yoongi, who meets him halfway to wrap his arms around his waist. Jimin’s arms go around the man’s shoulders and he breathes in his cologne, comfort soothing his heart. Yoongi always feels warm. When they pull away, they still have their arms around each other. Jimin’s fingers trade between the dark locks of his nape. He’s been waiting too long to do that.

“What are we doing?”

Yoongi looks down to his lips. “What do you want us to do?”

He wants Jimin to decide, despite all the stupid things Jimin must have done and said. 

“As weird as it sounds, I think we should wait.”

Yoongi nods, agreeing with him. “Alright.”

“Not because I don’t want to- I feel like we are coming from a place of hurt and we should start from a safer ground, does that make sense?”

“Jimin-ah, do you want to go on a date with me?”

The smile that pulls from Jimin’s lips is so genuine. “Yes, hyung. I’d love to go on a date with you.”

Jimin doesn’t doubt it, not even for a split second. Yoongi grins, his gums peeking beneath his upper lip and Jimin has the strong urge to kiss him. But none of them move further than the brush of their noses. They are close as they were the night before at the deck, maybe even more. Because now all intentions are clear as water.

“Next Friday?”

That’s six days apart and Jimin unconsciously pouts at the count. Yoongi’s hand comes up to trace his lower lip with his thumb, hand cupping his jaw.

“You know I have to leave tomorrow, Minnie.”

Right, Yoongi begins working on the summer program. He has a class early on Monday morning. 

“I’ll wait.” Jimin says, lips brushing Yoongi’s thumb.

“Yeah?”

“Of course, hyung.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

When Yoongi leaves the next day, he kisses Jimin’s cheek once the rest are back inside the house. Jimin watches him ride away in his motorcycle, already feeling impatient for Friday to come.

Throughout the week, Jimin and Yoongi text a few times. Well, a lot of times. Jimin is the one to write first, wanting to let Yoongi know that he meant his words, that he is interested in what they can build together. Yoongi replies between classes and sends pictures of all the homework he has to correct already. 

It’s been a couple of days and Jimin already got so used to him. To the feeling of thinking about Yoongi and wanting to know how he is doing. On Wednesday, when Jimin receives a call that he got the job as an assistant dancer, Yoongi is the first one to find out.

As Jimin is hopping off the bus, he almost misses his stop distracted with texting, he gets an incoming call this time. He doesn’t think about it, immediately pressing the green button.

“Congratulations, Jimin-ah.”

Until that moment Jimin hadn’t realized how much he missed hearing Yoongi’s voice.

“Thanks, hyung.” The smile is obvious in his tone.

“We’ll make sure to celebrate that on Friday as well.”

Jimin wants to ask how they are going to celebrate, his heart clenching at the thought. “What else is there to celebrate, hyung?” He asks instead.

“Us.”

It makes him feel all fuzzy the way Yoongi speaks so surely about them.

“Can’t wait, hyung.” Jimin says softly, waving at the security officer to let him in.

“Wish I could talk more but I have to give a lecture in five minutes.”

“Oh, making your students wait just for me?”

“Minnie, I’d send this lecture to hell to see you if it didn’t compromise my position.”

Perhaps Jimin will never get used to Yoongi’s playful side.

The thing is, to play a game it needs two people.

“Maybe you don’t have to.” He says and quickly hangs up, leaving the man with intrigue.

At least, something is true. Jimin can’t wait until Friday to see Yoongi.

The History faculty isn’t so far away from the Performing Arts building. They are connected through the Literature faculty, so Jimin sneaks in to walk directly to the auditorium where lectures are given. Some students are camping outside as they eat a snack, but Jimin gently pulls the door to walk in.

The auditorium is dark, except from the light that comes from the projector. Yoongi is standing behind a pulpit, talking about emperors and tombs. His glasses rest low on the bridge of his nose, and he rarely looks up to see his audience, concentrated on his notes. Jimin quietly takes a seat near the middle, most of the students are sitting up front, busy taking notes. Some of them simply stare at their professor and Jimin can’t blame them. Yoongi looks so handsome with his white dress shirt and black slacks, something he wears almost every day, but the impact remains intact. Jimin feels a bit bad knowing he must feel so hot, and the half emptied water bottle standing in the pulpit’s corner is proof of that. 

Despite not fully understanding the topic, Jimin immediately gets wrapped around the lecture, Yoongi’s voice is slow and patient. He watches the pictures pass by the clicking of his control and Jimin is happy he made the decision to come.

Jimin folds his arms on the small desk, resting his chin on top of them. Yoongi continues talking and talking, and that’s how without realizing, Jimin’s eyelids begin to flutter.

A couple of taps on his head wake him up. Jimin feels disoriented, the room is silent and dark.

“And I thought my lectures were a little bit interesting.”

Jimin snaps his head at hearing his voice and that’s when he notices he’s still sitting in the auditorium. He fell asleep.

“Hyung.”

“Had a good nap?” Yoongi grins, coming to sit next to him.

The auditorium is empty now.

“I wanted to surprise you. Guess I didn’t do a good job.” Jimin mutters, flushing. 

Yoongi looks at him amused. “You did a good job. I saw you entering earlier. I was surprised.”

Jimin gasps. “How? I made sure not to be noisy!”

“For a person who said you don’t stand out, you are the only one I want to look at every time we’re in a place together.”

Jimin gets so flustered he has to cover his face with his palms. His cheeks are burning now. “Hyung!”

He knows Yoongi is fully smiling at him, endeared at his reaction. After Jimin calms down, the man tells him to wait as he gathers his stuff, and they go out of the auditorium together. Outside, Yoongi carries his bike, insisting that he will walk Jimin back to his dorm. Jimin doesn’t protest and wants to hold one of Yoongi’s hands, but he puts his hands in the pockets of his shorts. Maybe he should wait until their date, which is in two days only. As they say goodbye though, the sky a rich orange shade as sunset bleeds down the horizon, Jimin dares this time to give Yoongi a kiss on the cheek. 

When he blushes, Yoongi’s cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink.

☀️💦🌴

Hoseok and Jungkook come around on Friday to help Jimin get ready. They scream at him for not telling them as soon as it happened and Jimin buries his face on his pillow, groaning.

“It was time you both catched up.” Hoseok teases, laying on his roommate’s bed. Soobin is on a trip with his family, so he won’t mind.

“Hyung, don’t remind me. I still feel bad.”

“Why?” Jungkook wonders, spinning on his desk chair.

“I sort of still can’t believe Yoongi hyung likes me after all the stupid things I did.”

“It wasn’t stupid,” Hoseok interjects. “I mean, you didn’t know how to handle your crush, and thought you’d be braver with a few shots in, that’s normal.”

“It’s not. I mean, it isn’t exactly right.”

“Yoongi hyung never mentioned anything about it either. Perhaps if you had talked sooner, you’d have got wasted together and have wild drunk sex instead of-

“How romantic.” Jimin deadpans, hiding his blush at the idea of doing that with Yoongi.

Will it finally happen tonight?

Jimin needs a clear head, so he goes to shower before it gets too late. The boys help him choose an outfit, and Jimin settles for something rather casual but cute. He doesn't know where Yoongi is taking him, but knowing the elder it will probably be a restaurant, but nothing too fancy.

Hoseok and Jungkook leave before Yoongi arrives, shouting encouraging words to him. Jimin is thankful to have friends like them.

He is finishing putting on jewelry when his phone lights up with a text notification.

Yoongi hyung 18:58

I’m outside

Jimin dumbly smiles and he checks himself in the mirror one last time before grabbing his purse and walking out of his room.

His heart is already beating fast, however at the sight of Yoongi leaning on his motorbike outside looking extra handsome waiting for him, it almost makes it stop.

“Jimin-ah.”

Jimin finds the way Yoongi says his name quite addicting. 

“Hi, hyung.” Suddenly Jimin feels shy.

Yoongi must have noticed, because he softly chuckles.

“Ready to go, pretty?”

Jimin feels even warmer pressed to Yoongi’s back on the bike. Yoongi is the one to secure Jimin’s arms around his middle and when they reach the street, the elder accelerates pushing their bodies even closer. The speed obliges Jimin to close his eyes at some point, the adrenaline too dizzying to handle.

They stop in front of a Thai restaurant.

“Jimin, you can let go now.”

“Ah? Sorry.” The redhead clumsily detaches himself from the man and hops off the bike, and Yoongi has to help him stabilize.

“How do you use that every day?” He breathes out, watching Yoongi put the helmets under the seat.

“You’ll get used to it.” Yoongi smirks and guides Jimin inside the restaurant. "Do you trust hyung?"

"I do."

Dinner with Yoongi is nice. Too nice. It isn’t awkward like Jimin thought it would be. A part of him feels dumb for forbidding himself of getting to know the elder better. Yoongi asks him how the trip ended and Jimin tells him they were able to go to the beach on the last day. He then talks about his interview and the job he will do at the dance academy and Yoongi lifts his glass of white wine to make a toast. Jimin mimics him and they drink together. The food is also good and soon Jimin feels so full, that when Yoongi pays for the check - at his insistence- Jimin suggests they could go for a walk.

Yoongi takes them to the Han River and parks the bike so they can take a walk along the shore. It’s another hot summer night and Jimin’s hands are clammy. He wants to hold Yoongi’s hand but not when he is sweating so much. What if his makeup is ruined too?

His inner dilemma is interrupted by a brush on his hand, the skin of his arms tingling. Yoongi just keeps on walking, casually looking around, at the calm river water and the reflection of the moon above it.

Their hands brush one more time. And one of Yoongi’s fingers curls around his pinky. This time, when Jimin drifts his gaze to his right, Yoongi is already looking at him. Their steps cease and naturally turn to face each other.

“Hyung.”

“Jimin-ah.”

Ever since Jimin met Min Yoongi three years ago, he knew there was something special about him. From stolen glances to kind gestures, Yoongi always found a way to stand out in the simplest ways. It’s always been Yoongi, the kind History teacher that made bad jokes and liked to feed pigeons by the college’s fountain. Yoongi, who’s always been so caring and attentive. And Jimin enjoyed spending time around him.

Jimin takes one step forward and slowly reaches to intertwine their hands together. Yoongi’s hand is clammy too, but they don’t care. Jimin doesn’t care. He suddenly feels the need to be as close to him as possible.

“Yoongi.” He whispers his name and sees the way the elder’s eyes fall on his lips. Jimin is wearing the cherry lipsticks again.

“Yes, Jimin-ah?” Yoongi’s voice is low and so good to Jimin’s ears.

“Do you kiss on the first date?”

“Depends.”

“Would you kiss me now?”

“I always want to kiss you.”

Yoongi never fails to give an answer that makes his heart clench.

“What are you waiting for then?”

Yoongi closes their distance, their chest flushed together, and his other hand comes to cup his neck.

“Tell me what you want.”

Jimin doesn’t break eye contact when he answers, “I want you to kiss me, Yoongi.”

Unlike other times, Jimin is neither tipsy nor drunk. He is very aware of what they are about to do, about the step they are about to take.

Slowly, Yoongi leans in until their noses brush. Jimin’s eyes flutter closed, and he patiently waits until Yoongi sweetly presses their lips together. It’s soft and gentle, but Jimin still grips Yoongi’s hand and the hem of his shirt. After several seconds, Jimin pulls back to breathe, already feeling intoxicated by the touch. This second time, he is the one to capture Yoongi’s lips. Their mouths open wider and Jimin is able to taste the cherry of his lipstick.

“Minnie.” Yoongi groans against his mouth and Jimin kisses him again.

“Hyung.”

They pull apart, their breathings rushed, chests heaving. Jimin wants more. He doesn’t only want to kiss Yoongi; he wants to do everything with him. He wants to caress his black hair, to hear his bad teaching jokes. He wants to see him read a new book every week and surprise him at his lectures. He wants to hear his low voice when he explains some random fact and watch the way he gesticulates with his big hands.

“Are we going to your place or what?” Jimin dares to ask because from now on Yoongi makes him feel brave like never before.

Nervousness and embarrassment crawls to his cheeks in a soft shade of red and he knows Yoongi can feel his erratic heartbeat under his palm.

“Are you sure?” Yoongi breathes out, licking his lips.

“Never been more certain in my life.”

"We can-

"I don't want to wait anymore, hyung." Jimin admits. "Only if you don't want to either."

A smirk tugs at Yoongi’s lips and he gives the younger one last kiss before tugging at his hand, guiding them back to the motorcycle.

It’s raining the next morning.

Jimin blinks a few times, his sight trying to adjust to the daylight. The temperature in the room is colder than last night and Jimin blushes when he notices there’s remains of dry cum in his stomach. Memories from last night flash across his mind and when Jimin gently turns around to find a sleeping Yoongi right next to him, it does feel like a dream.

Jimin could wake up like this every day.

It feels like a dream when he pulls the sheet over Yoongi’s body. It feels like a dream when he lays down in front of him to observe his delicate features. When he notices his tousled hair and slightly parted lips. When he sees a fallen eyelash on his cheek and his immediate response is to take it away.

It feels like a dream the moment Jimin’s finger is barely brushing Yoongi’s cheekbone that he hears:

“Jimin-ah.”

Jimin freezes on the spot, the warmest and fastest blush coloring his cheeks.

Yoongi’s voice feels like a dream.

Jimin can’t speak a single word. He can’t move either, it’s like someone pressed a pause button on his mind and body.

“I’m hot.”

“Yes.”

Yoongi opens his eyes and Jimin realizes what he just said, so he quickly adds:

“I mean, what?”

And if all the beautiful dreams in the world were combined into one image, that would be Yoongi smiling, showing his small teeth and his sleepy eyes squinting into crescents.

“The sheet.”

Oh.

Jimin reaches to lower the sheet until it only covers their waists. 

“Jimin-ah.”

There’s the dream again.

Jimin shyly looks at Yoongi and, of course, the man’s already staring back at him. The ticklish sensation from last night comes back and maybe Jimin can’t exactly classify the feeling, perhaps it’s too soon, but what he can certainly feel is the way his heart beats inside of him, making him feel real.

Because all of this is real.

Jimin is real.

Yoongi is real.

Their feelings are real.

“Your hand.” Yoongi’s voice sounds low and soft and Jimin almost doesn’t catch it under the sound of rain hitting the window.

The reflection from the lighting filters inside the bedroom, a gray shine suspending above them, and the apartment’s walls vibrate with the growing force of the storm, and Jimin places his hand on Yoongi’s cheek. First, his fingertips catch the single eyelash, which he blows away, his lips barely shape into an O. But that doesn’t seem enough, there’s a pulse vibrating deep in Jimin’s veins, a magnetic sensation pulling him close to Yoongi. Jimin welcomes it, knowing it will be reciprocated.

Yoongi seems to sense it, because he slides his arm around his waist and pulls him closer.

Jimin pictures the kisses they shared just hours ago, the daring touches, the scratch of nails against skin, the filthy sounds coming out of their mouths. Jimin remembers it all. 

Without breaking their gaze, Jimin’s hand moves to cup the smooth skin.

This is real.

"You're beautiful." Yoongi murmurs, and it steals a lovesick smile from Jimin's lips.

Jimin’s thumb moves very slowly like a pendulum on the cheek and, while savoring that caress, Yoongi’s eyes begin to close again.

☀️💦🌴