Chapter Text
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Parking was a nightmare. 77 degrees on a July night, Yoongi should’ve been more prepared for how passionate the patrons of the Ghost Light bar were for karaoke. He had found a nook a block and a half down the road, but couldn’t convince himself to get out of the car just yet.
Do this is for Yunjin. She’s rarely in town. She’ll be back on her national Broadway tour on Monday. She showed up for you. Show up for her.
It had been a strange day. After repeated cancellations, opening night of the Motown Opera’s production of Hadestown finally came. Getting to perform a dream role, achieving one of his biggest life goals, just months after hitting an all time low with his mental health, the excitement and mania of the day had started to weigh on the young man’s shoulders. Theatre politics and gossip had taken what little Yoongi hadn’t already given to the stage.
He looked in the rearview mirror and saw the remains of his Hades makeup. Yoongi had decided to keep it on as a badge of what he had accomplished today, just for himself. Smudged, but still noticeable, and if it happened to also help catch the eye of a beautiful tenor he knew would be there, then it was worth the minor discomfort.
Deep breath in. Hold it... Aaaaaannndd let it out.
He grabs his keys and wallet and heads toward the vibrating door to the Ghost Light bar.
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“I’m so funny in my body I can barely walk
and I’m so full of them funny feelings, that I could barely talk,
and here comes Jackie Onassis
Don’t need to ask it, have you ever seen a woman so fine?”
“YOONGI!” Taehyung yells over the tipsy girl crooning Sammy Rae into the mic on stage. He waves him over to the table they’ve claimed and hands him a pad of sticky notes and a pen. “Write down what song you’re gonna sing. We still need a Heather Chandler for ‘Candy Store’ if you’re down!”
“Ok tempting, but I’m a little tapped out,” Yoongi hopes he’s putting it gently. He tries to joke, “I’m gonna give it a minute, might do the usual: Monster Mash.”
“That’s insane,” Namjoon, sipping on a white claw to his left, asserts. “Fantastic choice.”
“Hey, dad!” Yoongi freezes recognizing the bright voice behind him.
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Five and a half years ago Yoongi took a ballet class at university. A semester that would’ve blended with the rest was made sharper than any other memory he would make by the presence of an angelic face, clever smile, and vivid, warm eyes. Park Jimin made one joke that first day of class and Yoongi was besotted. Weeks of hemming and hawing and keeping himself on the farthest side of the room from him, Yoongi daydreamed about a man who never even registered his existence- until finals. That same week the cast list for Wayne State University’s spring play, Death of a Salesman , was announced, with Yoongi cast as the titular salesman, Willy Loman, and Jimin cast as his son, Biff. While they grew to become good friends over the course of the show, from that moment on Yoongi had been worse than friend-zoned, he had been father-zoned.
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Yoongi turned around and smiled into eyes that could only ever regard him as his hyung and tried to quell how his breathing was quickening. “Jimin! Have you sang yet?”
“No, I’ve been waiting for the guest of honor to arrive, so now I can,” Jimin flirts, smile comfortable and kind. He still looks incredible. With the rush of opening night casting a haze during the actual performance, Yoongi hadn’t gotten a chance to fully regard Jimin outside of his Orpheus costume. Flared pink pants that hugged his hips and waist. A black button up that was two buttons too unbuttoned almost hanging off his shoulders, highlighting his delicate collarbone. Soft, ginger hair pushed back by his hands and sweat from the day. Yoongi was struggling. Excusing himself to the bathroom as quickly as possible, Yoongi willed the feather light butterflies in his stomach to die down.
Once in the stall he closes his eyes and undoes his pants to pee and self-regulate.
You can’t react like that every time Jimin flirts with you; that’s just his charm and engaging personality. Get a grip, asshole. Stop pining when you already have a date with another hot guy you want.
Yoongi zips up his pants and leans over to flush, not noticing how the motion causes the weed vape pen in his pants pocket to fall out and into the toilet bowl.
No way. FUCK-
It was a special treat he had gotten himself for his birthday: a high quality, organic (expensive) live rosin that would be gentle on his throat while still being strong enough to melt the excessive nerves of the week away. He stares at the toilet in disbelief.
Perfect. You’re fucking joking. That’s exactly what this needed- no.
He takes a deep breath.
No. We’re not doing that anymore. This is 27. This is still a good day. You know what, this is actually hilarious. At least it happened after the flush. At the VERY least this is a great story.
He stares a few moments longer, working up the courage to stick his hand into the bowl and fish the vape out. It would be tacky to clog the bathroom of one of your favorite bars. He decides he’s procrastinated enough, grabs a paper towel from the dispenser, rolls up his right sleeve, and sticks his hand in a toilet like a grown ass man, continuing to focus on the bright side.
You’ve turned this year around. Just prioritize finding the good, even in this. Keep yourself open to receiving and appreciating the unexpected.
Yoongi washes his hands thrice and already feels lighter.
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“NO FUCKING WAY,” Tae screams after Yoongi recounts what just happened.
“You definitely need a shot,” Namjoon offers through tears of laughter in his eyes.
Yoongi, Tae, Jimin, and Yunjin each take two tequila shots at the bar courtesy of Joon, responsibly nursing the same white claw.
“It feels so good to be back here again,” Yunjin looks around the Ghost Light, sighing wistfully.
“Sucks that living your dreams comes at the cost of missing home so damn much,” Jimin empathizes, remembering how he felt during his tour with a children’s theatre in Italy earlier that year. “Worth it, though.”
They nod and agree, getting the remaining juice out of their lime wedges.
They all return to the table where Jay Park waits for them after subjecting the room to an overwrought, unnecessary run filled rendition of Nina Simone’s “Feeling Good” that felt more masturbatory than for anyone else’s entertainment. He has a standing Jungkook trapped with a drunk rant about his last cabaret performance, and sweet, well-meaning Jungkook seems to not be looking around for release, so as they take their seats at the table they settle into their own pockets of conversation as well. Jimin is the last to walk over after all the seats have been claimed.
“Oh shoot, we ran out of chairs,” Jimin pouts.
Tequila burn and the sight of Jimin’s pink, pretty lips warms his stomach and emboldens Yoongi.
“You can sit in my lap if you want to, I definitely wouldn’t mind.”
Jimin looks at him, silent. His eyes narrow at Yoongi for a moment, but then a slow grin creeps onto his face.
“Well to see the stage better I’d have to straddle you,” Jimin counters, not one to be outwitted in a game of sexual suggestion. “I promised Jungkook I’d film his next song”
“That makes sense, can’t miss out on the view.”
“Then what about you?”
“I suspect I’ll still be glad about my view,” Yoongi can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth.
He feels lightheaded. Is this really happening? Jimin always flirts but Yoongi has never been this direct back at him, and… it’s really fun? Their banter is so free and exciting and he feels like he might black out under Jimin’s teasing gaze.
Jimin cocks his head slightly and his eyes flicker to Yoongi’s lap before accepting the offer by taking a seat, only sideways, deciding against straddling his colleague in public. Jimin makes up for it by maintaining eye contact as he does. Air charged and humid and thick, Yoongi instinctively goes to hold Jimin’s waist to balance him, gripping his taught form and accidentally becoming hyper aware of his every curve. Yoongi can feel his throat dry up instantly.
“You know, I’m still disappointed Jin rejected our stage kiss idea.” Jimin’s voice is wry but tender, betraying a hint of sincerity.
Yoongi’s definitely going to black out.
“Me too. I actually think it would really help the plot if the villain and main character kissed.”
“Exaaaactly, but he couldn’t see the potential! He was blinded by his own directorial vision.”
They smile at each other earnestly for a beat, until the first notes of the karaoke track for Amy Winehouse’s “Valerie” start playing, shaking them out of the trance momentarily.
Somehow Jay is at the mic again, presumably having heavily tipped the host, restless that he wasn’t swallowing up all the attention in the room for more than a minute.
Jimin looks back at Yoongi, eyes crinkling, and presses further.
“We could still rehearse it, just in case Jin changes his mind and comes to see our wisdom.”
Hoseok leans in out of nowhere from behind Yoongi, tactless and oblivious to the conversation he was interrupting, and begs, “I can’t do this again, please smoke this joint outside with me. I need an excuse so I don’t have to sit through him ruining my mother’s favorite song.”
Yoongi is unable to move, he can still feel his pants tightening from just eye contact and bold words he knew Jimin didn’t mean.
“Your mother’s favorite song is a gay anthem?” Jimin jokes, slightly irritable.
“She’s a layered woman. Yes or no?” Hobi holds the joint out between the three.
“I’m down,” Jimin answers as he stands up.
They both look at Yoongi expectantly.
He tries to think of an answer so the whole bar isn’t witness to the budding erection he’s getting for his friend. “I’m still grieving,” Yoongi gestures towards the bathroom, “doesn’t feel right to move on so soon.”
Jimin’s eyes falter for a second and what looks like a frown briefly flashes on his face. It looks as though he smiles harder to try to hide the slip.
“Fine, but that means you owe me a duet when I get back.”
Jimin and Hobi walk out the bar, leaving a stunned Yoongi staring at them as they leave.
It’s only then that he notices Taehyung and Namjoon have stopped talking and are fully staring at Yoongi, mouths slightly open.
“What the fuck was that?” Namjoon asks indelicately.
“What?”
“Felt like we were third wheeling a porn intro,” Tae says, brows furrowed and eyes incredulous.
“Jesus!” Yoongi deflects, embarrassed his arousal may have been obvious after all.
“No really, what the hell is going on between you two?” Tae clarifies gently.
“How much did you hear?” Yoongi tries to stay calm, maybe they were just trying to poke fun at him.
“Everything, all of it. We’re sitting right next to you. We can’t ignore you and Jay at the same time.” Namjoon says genuinely. He and Tae share a glance.
Yoongi sighs, tired of never having talked about his true feelings with anyone.
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After ordering a round of beer for the three of them and Yoongi downing half of his in procrastination, he now feels ready to share.
“I’ve had a crush on Jimin since 2018, since our Ballet 1 class at Wayne State, and then I got to fall even harder during Death of a Salesman, but he was dating Yeonjun then so I just tried to grin and bear it, but we’ve gotten a chance to hang out more lately because of the show and we’ve been flirting all day, but if it was gonna happen it would’ve happened by now, right? I think I might have ruined things when I slept with his ex, but everyone at Wayne has had sex with Soobin, so maybe he won’t hold that against just me? And even though they’re not best friends anymore and drifted apart after they stopped being roommates, I did ghost Beomgyu last year- I’m not proud of it, ok, and I shouldn’t even be freaking out about this right now! I’ve finally got a date with a hot guy that I’ve been crushing on since New Year’s- literally tomorrow night! And I really am excited for this date with Yi-Jeong. I don’t want to ruin what I could have with him by obsessing over Jimin just being outgoing and nice to me, but it’s literally Jimin, I can’t stop thinking about him- I haven’t been ABLE to stop thinking about him since 2018! Anyway, I can’t risk it when I don’t know if he just thinks of me as a friend or even still in like, just a ‘dad’ way.”
Having spilled all of his feelings in a single breath, Yoongi finds himself winded. His friends’ eyes are kind and attentive, but he still feels foolish and bashful.
“Maybe he sees you in a daddy way?” Tae drawls, more than a little tipsy and ever the optimist.
Yoongi laughs it off lightly, but the heat creeping in his face and pit of his stomach betray him. He has to admit to himself that he hadn’t actually considered if Jimin was ever flirting with him in earnest. Namjoon, markedly more sober, commiserates though.
“I get that. It sucks to be attracted to someone you work with, hard to parse what’s just shooting the shit to pass the time from actual romantic advances.” He takes a swig. “Wouldn’t wish this confusion on anyone.”
“Really? You don’t think it’s fun to work with someone you’re crushing on? You literally get paid to flirt with Jin ssi!” Tae spills, not realizing this was information that Joon had yet to share with anyone else. Namjoon looks ready to throttle him, not for telling Yoongi, but for saying it loud enough for Jay Park to overhear at the neighboring table. Fortunately, Jay had already trapped Seonghwa in the same conversation Jungkook was previously victim to, but Namjoon kicks Taehyung under the table anyway and pivots the conversation back to Yoongi, just in case.
“I’d play it safe. What if you end up ruining your friendship?”
“That’s so sad! You’re both young and hot, and there is clearly something going on! You have to at least try,” Tae urges, “and I hope you’re internalizing this too, Joon.”
They sit in the realization that their fear may be holding them back from truly living, but not for too long as Jimin and Hobi whirl back into the bar, urgent and suppressing snickers.
“The creepiest guy ever just tried to hit on Jimin outside!” Hobi howls as he sits down.
“What happened?” Tae asks.
“We were thinking about getting another drink, Jimin said he was thinking about ordering a rum and coke and this guy comes up to us out of nowhere and says ‘Coke or Cock?’”
“NO FUCKING WAY,” Tae shrieks.
“That’s disgusting,” Yoongi grimaces.
Namjoon cackles and adds, “You’re joking, that’s horrendous. It’s too stupid to even be seen as clever.”
“Did he think it would work?” Tae looks aghast and amused.
“I can’t imagine it ever has!” Hobi is clutching at his stomach sliding around in his chair, cracking up uncontrollably.
They laugh a while longer, the conversation moving to horrific pickup lines and bad puns. Yoongi stands up to gather the empty glasses to return to the bar, and asks,
“Wait, you haven’t ordered your rum and coke yet, right? I’ll grab it for you.”
Jimin looks at him and smiles, all teeth and joy and light, until his eyes focus behind Yoongi towards the bar, making him snort loud and quick.
“Actually the same creepy guy is at the bar, I should go with you to protect you.” Jimin offers, smile still wide and buoyant.
“Oh damn, I’ll miss my chance to get ‘Coke or Cock’-ed.”
“You don’t need him for that, I can do it for you.”
Yoongi is jello, unsteady and transparent, and he knows Jimin can see through, right to the core of him, and know just how badly he wants that.
“Is that a threat or a promise?” Yoongi attempts a laugh but it comes out worn and squeaky.
“A little of both.” Jimin’s eyes still warm but this time daring, and Yoongi hopes it’s not a bluff. They walk to the bar, both unsure of what to say next. Yoongi pays for Jimin’s drink, and Jimin brings up his duet proposition again.
“So, technically you do still owe me a song, remember?”
“Oh yeah, did you have any in mind?”
“Many, but I wanna know what you’re thinking.”
Yoongi’s thinking a lot of things, but none of them appropriate. He goes through his mental rolodex of horny musical theatre duets he wants to see Jimin in.
Dead Girl Walking? The Word of Your Body? Say No to This? No, Jesus, be more subtle.
Take a Chance on Me? You’re the Top? Blue? The Confrontation? Therapy?-
Or-
“Bad Idea? From Waitress?” Yoongi suggests, after finding the song that perfectly toes the line between fun and friendly but open to more if Jimin wanted.
Jimin stands up straight, eyes widening.
“Ok yes! I’m putting us on the list right now.” Jimin looks down at his watch and frowns. “Yeah I’m gonna beg him to move us up the line too, I have to leave soon. I’ve got work at 5 in the morning tomorrow.”
Before Yoongi has a chance to react, Jimin is already at the karaoke host’s table, handing him cash and batting his eyelashes, and of course it works, the host is smitten and blushing, and Yoongi and Jimin are slated to sing next.
Yoongi nervously looks to Tae and Joon for support, and Joon gives him an encouraging smile and two thumbs up while Tae slaps imaginary ass in front of him.
Jay has just finished his third song of the night, this time deciding to wow the crowd with his rendition of “Slipping Through My Fingers” by ABBA. He returns the mic to the stand and bows to the sound of four people clapping. Yoongi feels ready to throw up, this is literally what he does for a living, but it feels too real and sudden. He’s climbing the steps up to the small stage when Jimin leans over and mentions,
“Wait, I completely forgot to tell you I only know the lower part of the song.”
“Oh! Oh god, ok, um, I mean I know the Jenna part, but I’m a bass, it’s not going to sound good.”
“I’m so sorry! I learned the Dr. Pomatter part when I covered the song a few years ago, and just never learned the other one.” Jimin winces, looking so apologetic that Yoongi’s nerves, which had tripled upon hearing he would have to sing mezzo-soprano in a few seconds, almost melted completely.
“No, it’s ok! The song might sound a little crazy, but it’ll be fun.” Yoongi assures him as they both settle in front of their mic stands.
The modest karaoke bar spotlight, still sufficiently blinding, makes Yoongi’s skin tingle. This is what he was born to do. For three minutes he can quell his attraction to the most beautiful man he’s ever known, out of professionalism.
The song starts.
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“It’s a bad idea, me and you.” Yoongi sings and the rest of the performance is a blur. Giggles escaping both of them almost every other line, in reaction to the other’s stern, faux-serious acting.
Wait, we didn’t really get a chance to talk about this, how touchy and flirtatious am I allowed to be right now??
“Mind stop running, it’s time we just let this thing go,” they both sing while locking eyes for a moment. Jimin’s voice, liquid and sweet and lilting rhythmically, makes Yoongi feel lightheaded again.
He looks so pretty and confident, there’s no way he’s feeling what I’m feeling right now.
“Hold me close while I think this through.” They harmonize well, until Jimin grabs Yoongi’s waist and pulls him in, inches from his face. Yoongi’s heart plummets to the bottom of his stomach. This close to Jimin he can see the strange details of his face, the depth of his eyes, the crease of his smile, the lines that have formed from years of furrowing his brow in cute defiance. Breathtaking, all of it. Yoongi’s never felt so warm, like someone opened him up and poured fresh, homemade, stove-cooked maple syrup into him. Jimin sticks his tongue out and wags it at him. Yoongi guffaws, shocked and startled out of his trance.
“Yeah, it’s a very poor idea, me and you.” They continue, pushing each other away, masking their emotions through exaggerated theatrical physicality.
Yoongi can still feel the rush of his pulse, his heart pounding in his ear for the rest of the song. He refocuses his energy on the vocal precision the song demands, hoping the effort needed will distract him from how overwhelmed he is.
Placement- no, bad vowel. Ok, you’re right in the pocket, holy shit this song is so high.
“It’s a pretty good bad idea, me and you” They turn slowly and look at each other, holding out their last note in perfect harmony.
Their friends cheer, hooting and hollering, with other bar patrons clapping in encouragement. Yoongi and Jimin chuckle heartily and smile at each other as they step away from the microphones and off the stage. They make their way back to the table, unable to maintain eye contact or stop laughing, giggles rising involuntarily like carbonated bubbles.
“Oh shit, my b!” Jay springs out of his seat, trying to get clear of the drink he spilled.
“It’s all good, man. I’ll get some paper towels.” Namjoon gets up to help, surprisingly quickly. “Yoongi, where’s the bathroom here?”
Yoongi’s too high off of performance adrenaline and Jimin to process Namjoon’s question fast enough.
“Oh, just down the hall after this door, and then to the right.” Yoongi points to the door next to the stage.
“No, you have to show me,” Namjoon raises his eyebrows and widens his eyes, “I’ll get lost.” He says, but his tone suggests ‘I need to talk to you.’
“What? Oh! Ok, yeah.” Yoongi finally understands the subtext Namjoon almost made text just to get through to him. He steals a last look at Jimin and leads Namjoon through the bar to the bathroom.
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Yoongi opens the door of the small unisex restroom for both him and Joon, and reaches for the paper towel dispenser next to the sink.
“Oh my god!” Namjoon screams and grabs Yoongi’s arm stopping him.
“Oh? Don’t you need-” Yoongi gestures to the paper towel.
“Well yes, actually, the spill looked pretty big, but no! I brought you in here to gossip. Tae and I were filming the duet and our jaws were literally dropped throughout, at one point we turned and both said out loud, ‘are they gonna fuck right now?’”
Yoongi gets red instantly. He can feel his pulse pounding again and wonders if Jimin felt it too. He scoffs, trying to undermine Namjoon’s perception of the situation, but he’s interrupted by the door swinging open.
Standing in the entrance is Jimin, hip cocked, shirt sliding off his left shoulder, keys in his hands. He meets Yoongi’s gaze and smiles softly at him.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” Yoongi smiles back, mouth cotton dry and vision consumed by the sight of the cherubic man in front of him.
“I have to go.” Namjoon blurts, fearing he may see something in the cramped bar bathroom that he shouldn’t, and rushes out.
“Wait, you only took two sheets!” Yoongi calls after him holding more, but the door closes leaving him alone in the bathroom with Jimin.
They lock eyes and laugh again.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
Jimin’s smile is so bright, it knocks all the wind out of Yoongi, lungs empty and wanting only more of Jimin’s light.
“I have to leave now, so I wanted to say bye.” Jimin explains and moves closer to hug him. Yoongi accepts but takes a second longer to reciprocate.
Jimin is gentle and warm and citrusy sweet, and Yoongi feels guilty for how much he enjoys holding him. His hands feel the curve of Jimin’s spine as they pull away a little, but still in each other’s arms, just enough to see each other face to face. They both laugh gently again, nervous, tipsy, high, or all three.
This close, so soon after the first time tonight, Yoongi finds himself drowning again. He wants to spend the rest of his life studying Jimin’s face, the curve of his cheekbones, the soft slope of his nose, every pore, every eyelash, he wants to kiss, to treasure, each part. This close he can’t find the energy to keep himself from finally asking,
“Can I kiss you?” Yoongi’s embarrassed but hopeful. Maybe Taehyung and Namjoon were right.
Jimin’s eyes light up, smile widening as he nods yes, the pounding of Yoongi’s heart now deafening. He can’t convince himself he’s dreaming before Jimin leans in and Yoongi rushes to close the space between them.
Almost six years of build up and pining, the pessimist in Yoongi fears he’s imagined the chemistry he’s felt, but Jimin, still soft and gentle and tender, is firm and insistent, and Yoongi can feel how much Jimin has wanted to kiss him tonight too.
Their lips part but only to breathe before coming back for a second kiss, this time slower and more pliant. Yoongi moves a hand to Jimin’s hair to guide him into his mouth, and drags his waist in closer with the other. Jimin hums, and tears away to breathe again.
“Bye.” Jimin intones mischievously.
Yoongi is disoriented but manages to let go of him. He’s confused and free-falling, needing something to grip on to now that he’s tasted what he’s wanted for so long.
Jimin takes a step towards the door and starts to open it, before doubling back and colliding with Yoongi, throwing his arms around his neck and kissing him over and over, heated and deep.
Yoongi stumbles back, but manages to regain balance by using his hands to grip Jimin’s waist, anchoring himself in the ethereal, fleeting creature in his arms, and turning them both so Yoongi has his back to the cool, tile wall. They don’t break for air this time, kisses all hot and gasping and urgent, full of need. Throughout it all they still manage to burst into small fits of laughter interrupted by their own lips trying to find the other’s again.
Intoxicated by arousal, they forget to keep track of the time until an alarm rings from Jimin’s watch. They’re startled as Jimin steps back to turn it off. They regard one another, out of breath, mouths and hair mussed, lips swollen, eyes lidded.
“Sorry, I set an alarm for midnight to force myself to leave on time.” Jimin gives Yoongi a sad smile.
Yoongi can’t think of anything to say except giving him a dopey, love-struck, fond smile in return. Jimin pulls open the door and outside Namjoon is two steps away, mid-stride, reaching for the handle.
“I did actually need more paper towel, but you know what? It’s mostly water right, it’ll evaporate.” Namjoon sputters rapidly, backing away down the hallway.
Jimin looks back at Yoongi and they both cackle in surprise. As their laughter dies down, they meet each other’s gaze and once again the air feels heavy and hot and buzzing with electricity. Jimin moves back to Yoongi.
“I really do have to leave now.” Jimin breathes, quiet, not to break whatever this is.
Yoongi goes in to kiss him one more time, slow, light, treacle-sweet, and syrup-thick.
“Bye.” Yoongi says after pulling away, and Jimin’s eyes glitter in the dim light.
“Bye.” Jimin reaches for the door again, smiles one last time back at Yoongi, so bright it fills every corner of his ribcage with sunshine and want, and walks out.
The dulcet sound of the current performer wafts in through the door while it’s open. It sits with Yoongi, both giving each other company in the new day.
“Boy, you got me hooked onto something
Who could say that they saw us coming?
Tell me,
Do you feel the love?
Spend a summer or a lifetime with me,
Let me take you to the place of your dreams,
Tell me,
Do you feel the love?"
Yoongi is left in the bathroom in disbelief for the second time that night.
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