Archive of Our Own

Yoongi keeps his gaze ahead as he walks fast. Sweat is collecting over his forehead and armpits, the collar of his white button up itching around his neck, but he is too out of it to care about his messy appearance. Yoongi needs to go.

He needs to run, probably. But this is the fastest his uncoordinated feet are allowed to carry him through the empty streets of a late night in Seoul. He is moving. That is enough.

He is going away.

A loud horn makes him halt, freeze on his spot as a cold shiver runs down his spine. The world stops for a solid second and Yoongi finally breathes. The light is red and a car almost runs over him. Yoongi is now standing at the edge of a corner, but the adrenaline still pumps in his veins.

The damn shirt itches everywhere.

Yoongi angrily loses his tie a bit and scratches the skin of his neck. He takes a deep breath and huffs when the light changes. He begins walking again, this time slower. The world is moving again, although at a normal speed. His vision isn’t blacking out anymore. He barely knows where he is, but Yoongi continues walking. He walks until he loses track of time. 

Until the night is so dark, a dimly lit bar around the corner seems like the only safe place in Seoul. Quietly, Yoongi enters with slow heavy steps, the warm atmosphere engulfing him immediately. Sweat is clinging on his back and suddenly he is dying of thirst.

The bar is almost empty, but Yoongi barely spots a stool by the counter and goes to sit down. The wood is old, scratched. Some initials, a smiley face, a heart. Yoongi loses the tie with one harsh tug. The bartender asks what he wants.

Fucking disappear , his mind supplies.

“Scotch. Double.”

When he gets the drink, Yoongi stares at it. He can almost see his reflection quivering over the copper liquid. His lip twitches before wrapping his fingers around the glass. Bitterness travels down his throat but Yoongi ignores it and finishes his drink with a second gulp. An old song is playing somewhere but Yoongi can only hear the ghost of a piano and the general murmur of people reverberating across a church.

Yoongi lifts a finger and he gets another drink. He glances at his hands on the counter and gulps hard when his eyes bore the golden band around his finger. His vision waters but Yoongi forbids himself to cry here. He twists the ring with his fingers. He pushes the impulse to rip it off and throw it away.

This time, when he raises his filled glass so ready to drink his demons away, he feels a small tap on his right shoulder. The image of his best friend asking him if he’s alright before Yoongi runs away pours in front of his pupils for a second.

There’s only a few people drinking at the bar. Two by the window, one alone in a corner almost falling asleep. A woman scrolling through her phone at the end of the counter, but Yoongi can’t read her appearance because another face blocks the way.

“Yoongi?”

Yoongi blinks and puts down the drink. A young man is leaning against the bar, a dirty cloth draped over his shoulder. The waiter of the place. But there’s something about that tone of blond hair and round cheeks, which rings a bell in Yoongi’s foggy mind.

“Min Yoongi, is it really you?” The boy asks again, slightly leaning back.

“I…” Yoongi licks scotch from his lips and the boy smiles. That’s when Yoongi recognizes him, spiteful alcohol mixing with childhood memories on his tongue. “Ji-Jimin?”

The name sounds weird coming from Yoongi’s lips but the smile tugging the corners of Jimin’s lips is genuine. He seems surprised to be recognized and also glad.

“This is… Wow,” Jimin passes a hand over his mouth to hide his grin. “How long has it been? Ten years?”

Even more.

Yoongi’s mind is spiraling. He mumbles something incoherent and Jimin does something unexpected. He giggles. Yoongi shuts his mouth, looking at him.

Jimin doesn’t look very different from when they were teenagers. He’s just a bit taller, his hair is blond and smooth, and his features seem sharper, but they hold a roundness that adds to his charm.

Yoongi’s just had a peculiar day and he can’t match the friendliness Jimin is offering right now. 

“You look…” Jimin starts, trailing his eyes over Yoongi. Then, he arches an eyebrow. “Like you’ve been somewhere.”

Yoongi turns to lower the glass and hide his frowned eyebrows. “Something like that.”

Jimin keeps quiet at that. Maybe it’s been a decade but he hasn’t forgotten how to read Yoongi.

“You look like,” Yoongi clears his throat and shoots him a glance. “You work here.”

“Something like that,” Jimin answers, smirking.

He grabs the dirty cloth over his shoulder and playfully hits Yoongi’s arm when he walks behind him to surround the counter. He makes a sign to the other bartender and the guy exits through the kitchen door.

Jimin leans against the bar, holding himself over his arms. “So, what have you been doing all this time, Min Yoongi?”

Yoongi leaves the sound of bells picking at the back of his brain to listen to Jimin’s voice. To answer that question, Yoongi needs to remember. And tonight, Yoongi wants to forget. He finishes his drink in one go and then shakes the glass in the air. Bitterness burning down his throat.

His voice comes out gruff. “You’ll have to give me more of this, Park Jimin.”

Jimin’s smile is short-lived, and he softly shakes his head. He grabs the bottle of scotch. When Yoongi extends his arm to receive more alcohol, he notices the way Jimin’s eyes slip down to the golden ring in Yoongi’s left hand.

Yoongi drinks and talks. So much, that by the end of his story, he’s gotten rid of his jacket, opened the first few buttons of his white shirt and is unable to remember the smell of the flowers he picked for the aisle. He doesn’t remember the color of the napkins, the flavor of the cake, the pictures he chose for the video nor the centerpieces. The people at the bar leave one by one but Yoongi remains. Drinking and mumbling the past ten years of his life and Jimin lending an ear to listen.

“Man… I’ll have a shot for that,” Jimin says at the end. He’s always been the kind of person who knows what to say at the right time. 

And Yoongi does the unexpected. He laughs.

“What about you?” Yoongi can’t help but ask, tongue feeling heavy inside his mouth.

Jimin drowns a soju shot as if it were water. He leans closer to Yoongi, eyes roaming over his face. “You know, the usual. Inheriting daddy’s company, earning millions, fucking around…” They laugh together, but Jimin’s giggle is empty. Yoongi is too tipsy to notice. Jimin’s expression becomes somber, but he tries to mask it. “No… It’s more dropping out of college, mom getting sick and being chased by debts.”

Yoongi gets serious as well. “Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry, Jimin.”

Jimin shrugs. “Life happens to everybody.”

The words resound on Yoongi’s withered heart. There’s a moment of silence until Yoongi lifts his half-drunk glass. “I’ll drink to that.”

Jimin clinks his glass for a quick toast but doesn’t manage to drink because the other waiter calls him. Yoongi observes them over the rim of his glass as he drowns the last drops of his scotch. The guy says something to Jimin’s ear and Jimin steals a quick glance at Yoongi. Jimin turns to his coworker again and rolls his eyes at them.

When Jimin returns, Yoongi pretends to be distracted.

“I’m afraid we have to close.”

Yoongi nods, feeling a little embarrassed. “Uh, of course.”

The room spins a little when Yoongi stands up. He grips the counter, the golden band shining on his finger. Yoongi blinks and grabs his jacket and tie. He can already feel the glimpses of a headache coming to haunt him in the morning. Damn, he will need an aspirin. Or two.

There’s a detail that doesn’t go unnoticed in his messy mind. Yoongi fishes for some bills in the inside pocket of his jacket and mutters a curse when he realizes he doesn’t have enough.

A whistle comes from the bar and Yoongi ignores the heat spreading on his cheeks.

“It’s on the house.”

Yoongi looks up to find Jimin wiping the bar. For a second, they are fifteen again. Orange hair, old school shirt that he hasn’t changed since middle school, a ridiculous plastic ring hanging from a thin silver chain around his neck.

Yoongi shakes his head, mouth moving before words can rise from his sloppy tongue. “No-no…”

“I invite,” Jimin says in a light tone, and nods goodbye to a customer.

Yoongi knows what that means. That Jimin is willing to give in money from his paycheck just to save Yoongi the embarrassment. Yoong would never allow that, not when they were twelve and Jimin tried to buy a snack from the school’s vending machine and his coins were barely enough, and not now.

In a last attempt, Yoongi slides the bills across the counter. “Take them.”

Jimin exhales and stops wiping to rest his hands on the wooden table. “You’ll need a couple for the cab.”

Yoongi curses internally. “I’ll walk,” he mutters because he might be slightly drunk and heartbroken but that only makes him more stubborn.

Jimin knows and he smiles. “You can come back tomorrow.”

Yoongi’s eyes drift down to the money beneath his fingers. He bites his lower lip and, in the end, grabs some wons for the taxi.

“Do you want me to call you one?” Asks Jimin, saving the money on the register.

He left his phone back in the church.

Biting back any more embarrassment, Yoongi simply nods and watches Jimin fish his phone from the back pocket of his jeans.

“Thank you.”

That night, Yoongi doesn’t return home. He goes to Namjoon’s apartment instead.

His friend opens the door seconds later despite being past midnight. Unlike Yoongi, who is still wearing his wedding suit, Namjoon has showered and is wearing inside clothes. He blinks behind his glasses and just steps away to let Yoongi in.

“I was going to call the police in the morning.”

“You’ve always been a bit dramatic, Joon,” Yoongi’s chuckle is short and bitter. Alcohol hasn’t left his system yet, so he stumbles a little when he kicks his shoes off by the entrance.

Namjoon watches him. He knows Yoongi went to drink. He can surely smell the whisky.

“How-”

“We don’t need to do that,” Yoongi cuts him, walking inside the apartment. He lingers in the middle of the living room, not quite knowing what to do.

Namjoon sighs and goes to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. He’s a good friend. He won’t pressure Yoongi.

“I’ve got your bag,” he says instead and hands the cold glass to Yoongi. Yoongi looks down at it. “Your phone too. It’s been ringing.”

But Yoongi doesn’t respond. He can’t. He doesn’t know what to say. He thinks maybe there isn’t anything else to explain, if what happened isn’t clear enough. He knows his father will want to talk to him about it, perhaps scold him for running away instead of facing the consequences. But Yoongi can deal with all of that tomorrow. He can deal with reality in the morning. For now, he wants to stay in the bubbly sensation of decent whiskey and an old voice returning to his mind.

“You should get some sleep, man,” Namjoon pats his arm.

When Yoongi doesn’t even lift his head, Namjoon calls him, trying not to sound too alarmed. Yoongi snaps his eyes to him, but he can’t hold his gaze for too long. Everything that Yoongi sees is his friend dressed as his best man, waiting next to him at the altar, and his stomach twists.

Except now they are in an apartment, Namjoon wearing pajamas and Yoongi drunk and single.

“Thanks, man,” Yoongi drawls and only nods when Namjoon tells him goodnight.

Once alone, Yoongi chugs down the water with desperation, a thread of liquid falling down his chin. He hisses and takes a deep breath. His heart is beating fast. Good. It’s a sign he is alive.

The next day, Yoongi wakes up on the couch. His lower back hurts and there’s drool pooling at the corner of his mouth. For a second, he thinks he’s in a fancy hotel room, but reality slaps him on the face when he opens his eyes and his gaze lands on a bonsai carefully placed at the center of the coffee table. It hurts. As much as Yoongi wants to ignore it. But his heart isn’t the only thing aching at the moment. Because as soon as he props up on his arm, a pounding headache hits the back of his head and Yoongi moans in pain.

“Good morning-”

“Yah!” Yoongi jumps on his skin, sitting on the couch, while Namjoon bends to place a coffee mug on the table. “Are you a fucking ghost, Joon?”

“I called you,” Namjoon explains. “You need to bring your mind back, Yoongi.”

“Fuck you.”

Namjoon knows Yoongi is grumpy in the mornings. Especially this morning. He doesn’t fight him about it, simply ruffles his hair and walks back to the kitchen where he’s making breakfast.

“Drink that and go take a shower. You stink.”

Yoongi spends the day with Namjoon. His best friend’s comfort is what Yoongi needs right now. Namjoon doesn’t ask unnecessary questions and he appreciates silence. Yoongi doesn’t want to do anything. He sits on the couch and glances at the TV but actually doesn’t pay attention. He doesn’t even know what’s showing. He’s just there. Like a bonsai. Only Yoongi feels nothing in particular. He is numb.

At sunset, Yoongi grabs his bag and returns home. Namjoon reassures him he can stay for as long as he wants, but Yoongi knows what he has to do. There’s no point in delaying things, not when he’ll have to face his father tomorrow at the company. Or maybe Yoongi is allowed to take the day off after his marriage went down the pipe.

The apartment is silent when he kicks the door open. It’s not unusual but it’s a different kind of silence. One that Yoongi didn’t invite, however, barged into his life instead. He leaves the bag on the couch and finally decides to take a look at his phone. Dozens of missed calls and texts. There’s one message that feels like a punch to his stomach.

Jieun 22:45

We need to talk .

He wants to laugh. Of course, Yoongi didn’t see it because he was- Yoongi still has something to do today. He decides he can’t deal with calls and texts now either and also snatches his wallet from the bag and his car keys, before leaving the damn silence behind. He completely ignores the fluffy slippers mocking him next to his own.

The bar is a bit more crowded than yesterday, which means it’s noisier. It should be because it’s dinner time, way earlier than when Yoongi showed up confused and heartbroken last night. Yoongi sees Jimin even before crossing the door. He’s taking the order to some ladies sitting by the window and when he hears the bell tingling, he smiles at seeing Yoongi awkwardly standing. He finishes writing down something and redirects his steps to Yoongi.

“You’re back,” he says, but he seems surprised.

Yoongi tilts his head. “Should I not?”

“I thought you wouldn’t remember,” Jimin is honest.

“Well, I said I would,” Yoongi shrugs, digging his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie.

Jimin purses his lower lip, confidently inspecting his appearance. Yoongi’s wearing a much different outfit from yesterday: dark sweatpants, a hoodie and trainers. Yoongi only wears these at home.

“Welcome again, Min Yoongi.”

Yoongi watches Jimin walk behind the bar to enter the kitchen for a moment. He must be delivering the order. Taking a quick glance around, Yoongi decides to sit in one of the couple free stools by the bar. He doesn’t know entirely what he’s doing here, but when Jimin comes out through the doors again wearing a grin on his face only directed to him, Yoongi doesn’t take out his wallet just yet. He sits there, hearing people talk and the soft hip-hop music playing somewhere, and intertwines his hands on the counter.

“So, what can I get you tonight?”

“Uh…” Yoongi hums until he huffs.

“Same as yesterday?” Jimin tilts his head, studying him.

“No, I- I’m driving.”

“Oh,” Jimin thinks for a moment. “What about something to eat, then?”

Yoongi hesitates again. He’s already sweating but he doesn’t feel like taking off his hoodie. Yoongi is tired. He ignores the ring still on his finger.

Sensing some discomfort, Jimin leans against the counter to speak more privately. “I guess it’s still awkward.”

“No! I mean- It’s just-” Yoongi is an idiot. He shuts his eyes for a second and looks down defeated. “I’m sorry. I have a lot in my mind,” he laments quietly.

Jimin gives him a sympathetic smile. He doesn’t look down to Yoongi’s hands either. “Noodles?”

Yoongi glances up at him. Jimin understands. “Sounds perfect.”

🏹

On Monday, Yoongi enters the office with heavy but decisive steps. He can feel everyone’s eyes on him as he goes to his office, but Yoongi ignores them. He can feel the calm before the storm. But Yoongi acts as if it’s any normal day. He hangs his jacket and switches on his laptop. He’s got some blueprints to check before the deadline and he could have some coffee-

The door bursts open and his father starts screaming right away.

“Where the hell have you been, Yoongi?” He demands with a loud tone and Yoongi only reclines in his chair. “You need to fix this mess right now! You hear me? We worked so hard to make this marriage happen, and everything gets ruined in a second! You have to do something!”

Yoongi stops listening to his father’s scolding and notices people spying on them through the glass walls. Yoongi remains impassive in his chair.

“Are you listening to me?” His father raises his voice and Yoongi clenches his jaw. He doesn't like that tone.

“I’ll talk to her,” he mutters, voice flat.

“Now!” His father shouts. Yoongi resembles a lot to his father, especially when they wear similar clothes; although he would discuss he looks more like his mother. But now, as the old man is losing his temper over his failed marriage, Yoongi thinks they are far from similar. “You should be at her fucking doorstep, on your knees and begging!”

Yoongi thinks he’s got enough. He stands up, pushing the chair back, and leveling his father’s gaze.

“This is a delicate situation, and I’ll handle it as I see fit.”

His father stares at him for a moment, the silence tightening the tension between them. 

“You’ll go today,” the man lowers his tone, trying to sound threatening. Yoongi doesn’t give him any reaction. “I’ll let Mr. Lee know.”

Yoongi isn’t an asshole. He was going to talk with Jieun today- or tomorrow- but having his father give him orders as if he were a stupid kid, brings a bitter taste to Yoongi’s mouth. He knows what he has to do, he doesn’t need anyone else to use him as a puppet.

“I’ve got work to do, Mr. Min,” his voice comes out icy and Yoongi sits down again. “Please close the door on your way out.”

After hissing a curse, his father leaves the office and doesn’t talk to him for the rest of the day. Fine by Yoongi.

When it’s time to clock out, Yoongi grabs his briefcase and heads to the elevator. He knows his father is watching him from the main office, but Yoongi doesn’t look back. He makes all the way to his car, and lets out a long exhale once in the driver’s seat. He loosens his tie and opens the first couple of buttons of his white shirt. He fishes his phone from his jacket and opens Jieun’s chat. There’re many messages and calls and Yoongi hasn’t replied to any of them. In the end, he twists the keys and begins driving to the Lee’s house.

Yoongi considers leaving. He considers turning back and disappearing from her life. It would be the easiest move.

Perhaps also the most cowardly decision Yoongi can make.

Yoongi rings the bell and the guard lets him in. He doesn’t even greet Yoongi.

After he parks in front of the mansion, Yoongi gets the sudden feeling of throwing up. The shirt itches his neck again and his hair is making his neck sweat. He probably needs a haircut, but his mother really likes how his long hair looks.

His mother hasn’t tried to contact him since the wedding.

Yoongi gulps thickly and gets out of the car.

Mrs. Lee opens the door and Yoongi can’t hold eye contact for long. She doesn’t say much. At least, she lets Yoongi in. Yoongi’s ears are ringing but he catches when the woman says Jieun is expecting him in her room. Yoongi feels sick as he walks up the stairs.

The door is opened ajar. Still, Yoongi knocks.

“Come in,” Jieun says.

Jieun’s house has always been so quiet. Yoongi can hear his own heartbeat and it starts racing at speedlight when he finds Jieun sitting in her bed, still wearing her pajamas. Yoongi gave her those pajamas for Christmas; dark blue pants and button up.

Yoongi lingers on the threshold for a long moment. Jieun sighs, a sound Yoongi has heard quite often in the last couple of months.

“You can come in, Yoongi,” she says, looking elsewhere.

Opening his mouth to answer, Yoongi decides against it to avoid saying something stupid. He walks into the room and dares to sit by the edge of the bed. The last time they were here, it was for their engagement party. They were drunk and tried to have sex, but Yoongi ended up falling asleep still with his slacks on.

The atmosphere is very much different now.

“I don’t blame you for not calling all weekend,” Jieun says. “I knew you wouldn’t.”

“Sorry…” Yoongi apologizes, nevertheless.

“I’m sorry too-”

“No,” Yoongi interrupts her, frowning. “You… You don’t have to do that.”

“We took it too far.”

Yoongi glances at her, his heart shrinking. “What are you talking about?” His voice sounds weak.

Jieun keeps quiet for a moment. “None of us wanted this, Yoongi. Perhaps it would have been fine the first months and then we would have grown bitter and unhappy.”

“I love you,” Yoongi blurts out.

“I know you do. In your own way,” Jieun sounds so pulled together. As if doing this lifted a weight off her shoulders. She sounds relieved while Yoongi’s heart feels heavy. “I love you too, Yoongi. But not in the way to vow a life of fiction. We both knew it. Maybe now you don’t want to see it, but one day you will.”

Yoongi leans towards her, desperation burning in his eyes. “Jieun, don’t- Please, let’s just-”

“I know how much you want a family, Yoongi. And you wouldn’t find that with me.”

Yoongi’s body goes taut after hearing those words. His shoulders slump and he slowly leans back, defeat clutching at his feet. Jieun’s eyes fill with tears. Yoongi doesn’t have the heart to comfort her. It’s a right he’s lost, alongside his most desired dream.

It’s over.

In the quietness of his apartment, Yoongi realizes. Jieun’s finger was empty.

The next day, Yoongi doesn’t wear the ring anymore. 

His father refuses to talk to him for a whole month.

Yoongi goes back to his previous life. A life of quietness. He wakes up alone, goes to the gym three times a week, arrives at work before anyone else and leaves the building after everyone is gone. He doesn’t hear about Jieun anymore. Even though sometimes he sits in bed alone at night, holding the phone with her contact filling the screen. Yoongi doesn’t text. Yoongi doesn’t call.

At thirty-five, Yoongi is single again.

Days pass and his routine never changes.

Until one night, when Namjoon drags him out of the office for drinks. Yoongi doesn’t talk about what happened. It’s been six weeks, Yoongi should work on moving on. At least, he thinks he’s trying. There’s a family of four on the other side. As Namjoon rambles about work, Yoongi mindlessly watches the mother filling the kids’ plates as they play with their chopsticks. Yoongi loses his appetite.

After Namjoon takes his cab, Yoongi walks around for a bit. It’s an unusual warm spring night and tomorrow is Saturday, so Yoongi can stay awake for a little longer. Until he recognizes the convenience store from the corner. Yoongi walked past it six weeks ago.

He turns left and continues his path to the bar.

There’s music playing at the bar.

As usual, Yoongi heads to the bar where some people are sitting drinking. He glances around but doesn’t find Jimin anywhere. The other waiter walks up to him.

“What’s up?” It seems they recognize him.

“Uh, is Jimin on shift tonight?” Yoongi mumbles.

The guy smirks and scratches their nape, flexing their tattoo covered bicep. “You’re the old friend.”

“Pardon?”

“The fake husband. Jimin has been talking about you nonstop.”

At that moment, Jimin himself walks out of the kitchen holding a plate of fried chicken. When he spots his coworker and Yoongi talking, Jimin intercepts them.

“Jeongguk!” He shrieks. “Shut up and take this.” Jimin shoves the plate against the guy’s chest and he lets out an airy giggle.

The guy, Jeongguk, grins and winks at Yoongi before taking the order to a table. Jimin passes a hand through his hair, pushing his blond locks backwards before they fall over his forehead once again.

“Hey,” he sounds a little breathless.

Yoongi watches him. “Hi.”

“Don’t listen to Jeongguk. They’re a pain in the ass.”

“Do you talk about me?” Yoongi blurts out and immediately regrets it, shaking his head, as Jimin mirrors him. “I mean-”

“No, I mean- It was just this one time, or two times, but-” Jimin shuts his mouth, forcing himself to stop his rambling. It’s the first time Yoongi sees him nervous. “Just ignore him,” the boy ends up murmuring.

Yoongi nods.

After a moment, Jimin straightens, confidence blooming again from within. “You came back.”

Yoongi nods again and Jimin giggles. A guy a stool away from Yoongi asks for a beer and Jimin pulls a commercial smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He glances at Yoongi, his expression shifting into a softer one, silently asking.

“No, thank you.”

Yoongi asks for a soda in the end, out of courtesy. He tries talking with Jimin, although he understands he’s working. Yoongi doesn’t know why he came here in the first place. Maybe because being here and talking with Jimin doesn’t remind him of what happened.

“I don’t remember that happening,” Yoongi asserts. “I remember you throwing up in my mom’s daisies after one shot,” he lifts up one finger to emphasize the number and Jimin’s laugh is vibrant, almost filling the entire place. His cheeks round up and his eyes squint into crescents, just like when they were kids.

“Well, I’ve gotten better over the years.”

Yoongi smiles. “So, two shots now?”

“Hyung, don’t-” Jimin cuts himself, realizing his own words. “Sorry, I didn’t ask if I could call you that.”

“It’s okay,” Yoongi doesn’t doubt it and Jimin relaxes. Someone calls for a waiter but Jimin doesn’t move. They stare at each other. “You can call me hyung, Jimin-ah. Just like old times.”

The kitchen closes at eleven p.m. The last customer leaves after midnight. Yoongi sees everything happen from his stool, until Jimin lets him know they are closing and bites his lip. Yoongi gets on his feet and grabs his jacket.

“Do you need a ride?”

Yoongi doesn’t know what possesses him to ask that. He hears a cough behind him and when he glances over his shoulder, he finds Jeongguk wiping the tables. Jimin stares at him dumbfounded.

“Would you wait for me?”

“Yeah, well,” Yoongi clears his throat. “You didn’t let me pay for the soda and I’m here delaying you both.”

“Oh,” Jimin mutters, blinking. “It’s fine, hyung-”

“I can finish.”

Jeongguk looks at them from the back, swinging the dirty cloth over his shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, hyung. You can go.”

Yoongi looks back at Jimin- who’s still staring at his coworker- waiting for a response before he starts feeling like an idiot. He’s just being kind to an old friend.

In the end, Jimin’s eyes meet Yoongi’s gaze, and he nods. His cheeks are slightly pink but maybe they were always like that and Yoongi’s just noticing now. “Thank you, hyung.”

Yoongi says goodbye to Jeongguk and waits outside as Jimin goes for his stuff. The blonde leaves the bar wearing a hoodie and his jeans, and a gym bag hanging from his shoulder.

“I’m ready.”

Yoongi tilts his head towards the right. “Car’s this way.”

They walk together at the same pace, leaving a small distance between them. Yoongi puts his jacket over his shoulders and digs his hands in the pocket of his slacks.

“You always do the night shifts?” Asks Yoongi to break the silence.

Jimin snaps his gaze at him. “Yes! Except if someone needs to switch and I’m available,” he explains. “But the nights are alright. Jeongguk and I are friends, so we get along. I get to do stuff in the mornings or visit mom before work. Plus, people tip better at night.”

Yoongi doesn’t ask about that.

“Have you ever thought of going back to college?”

“I could never afford it,” Jimin chuckles lightly. “I am content by taking classes three times a week and have a showcase twice a year. Just because I haven’t graduated, it doesn’t mean I can’t dance.”

Yoongi hums, thinking. Teenage Jimin used to be fierce and determined. His dream was to become the best dancer and travel the world. But sometimes life doesn’t happen as one pictures it. Yoongi knows about that, the wound still fresh.

The truth is, Jimin hasn’t changed a lot. He’s still confident and outgoing, and Yoongi doesn’t doubt he must be a great dancer. That’s always been the biggest difference between them. Jimin’s always been the chill and charming type, while Yoongi is more reserved and uptight.

After they drifted apart, it was hard for Yoongi to make new friends. Until he met Namjoon and Yoongi glued to him. Namjoon is more like Yoongi and knows to give him space. When they were kids, Yoongi and Jimin would always spend time together.

Once they arrive at the car, they get inside and Jimin tells Yoongi his address. It’s an area farther away from downtown with many houses and stairs, but Yoongi knows where it is. The drive isn’t silent either.

“So, did you crash another wedding or you dress like that to work?”

Yoongi shoots Jimin a glance.

“Sorry, that was a bad joke.”

Despite everything, Yoongi chuckles. Only when Jimin confirms Yoongi isn’t upset or offended, he softly smiles too.

“No, I-” Yoongi stops at a red light, smirking. “I go to work dressed like this. I’m an architect.”

“Are you building something?”

“If by building you mean drawing blueprints and checking permissions, then, yeah.”

Jimin hums, looking ahead, a green hue illuminates his face as they drive past the intersection. “You always liked to draw.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi mutters. “You always liked to dance.”

“Yeah,” Jimin smiles. “Good we are both doing what we like then.”

Yoongi clenches his jaw, munching on words he can’t say.

Fifteen minutes later, Yoongi parks in a familiar high street. The streetlight is tilting, and it flickers over their faces as they have to say goodbye.

“Thanks for the drive, hyung.”

Yoongi nods. “Of course.”

Jimin’s smile is small. “I’m sorry if I said something…”

“No, Jimin,” Yoongi shakes his head. There’s light and darkness in their eyes. “It’s fine.”

“Are you alright, Yoongi?”

Yoongi hasn’t heard that question in a long time. He wishes he knew the answer. Yoongi sees warmth and darkness. Jimin hasn’t changed much. His hair is just a little longer than when they were young, and his features while they remain soft, they hold a sharpness of their own. Jimin doesn’t know how to hide his emotions.

“I think I am,” Yoongi admits in the end, and gulps.

Jimin nods and doesn’t press more.

Instead, he looks around for a moment before asking, voice pitchy, “Can I have your number?”

Yoongi blinks. “Uh, sure.”

He hands his phone to the younger and notices Jimin staring at the screen.

“No picture?” He points out then, before pressing buttons and numbers. The blue light from the screen illuminates his face for a minute. “Done. I texted myself so I can save your number.”

“Sure.”

“See you around, hyung,” Jimin beams.

Yoongi nods once again. After Jimin leaves, he looks down at his phone.

To Jimin 🌻

it’s nice to see you again, hyung :)

The next week, his mother invites him for tea. Yoongi leaves the office early to go to his house. The weather is nice so they sit in the garden, the table served with a set and pastries.

“Jieun is in London,” his mother is a frank woman. She’s kind and sweet, but also knows Yoongi can deal with the truth. “Doing a marketing course.”

“She’s smart.”

“That she is,” his mother looks at him as she takes a sip. “You’ve always talked about her like that.”

Yoongi frowns. “Like what?”

“Jieun is smart. Jieun is kind. Jieun is pretty, but not beautiful,” she accentuates.

“I’ve never-”

“You never talked about what you actually liked from her. Why you liked being together.”

Yoongi keeps quiet at that. He’d protest that he's barely heard his mother talk about his father like that as well, but Yoongi knows better than to contradict her. Maybe he just wanted to prove he can actually have a happy, decent, life with someone else, unlike his parents that seem to tolerate themselves. Happiness seems like a big word now.

He wonders if Jieun spoke about him any differently. He will never know.

“Your father isn’t upset at you,” she continues. “He’s just a stubborn old man. The deal was made anyway. I had a long conversation with Mrs. Lee.”

Yoongi nods and takes a sip from his tea. His mother talks about her meetings with her friends and the vacation she’s planning for the summer. Sometimes, Yoongi spaces out, watching the gardener shaping the bushes.

“Hey, mom,” Yoongi stops her rambling. “Do you remember Jimin?”

Her mother lowers her teacup on the tiny plate. “Jimin?”

“Yes, Park Jimin. A friend from childhood.”

“Ah, yes,” her reaction is measured. She blinks up at her son, but the young man seems lost in thought. “Why?”

Yoongi shrugs. “Just ran into him recently.”

Jimin laughs hard, throwing his head back and clapping, while Yoongi tries to hide his grin behind the rim of his glass. Yoongi takes a long gulp, the bitterness dragging down his throat as he sees Jimin wiping a stray tear from his eye. They are sitting in one of the tables by the window, the bar pretty much empty on a Tuesday night.

“That’s a good memory,” Jimin sighs.

“Yeah,” Yoongi drags, his tongue heavy. “Now it feels weird that we didn’t keep in touch during college.”

Yoongi doesn’t remember the moment they just didn’t call each other anymore.

Jimin shrugs. “Life,” he settles for saying. “And your parents never liked me much.”

Yoongi snorts. “Don’t worry, I’m sure my parents don’t like me much either.”

Yoongi drinks again and Jimin watches him.

After a moment, he asks, “Because of what happened?”

“Who knows. Maybe it’s always been a bit like that and I’m just noticing.”

Yoongi knows his answer must be depressing and he doesn’t like the way the atmosphere changes after it.

“That’s not true,” Jimin murmurs, trying to save the moment. He clears his throat and steals Yoongi’s glass to take a short sip from the whiskey. Jimin grimaces and it makes Yoongi chuckle.

“What are you doing?”

“We should do fun things again like when we were younger! Let’s do them!”

Yoongi looks at Jimin, clueless. 

“We both could use a distraction right now,” Jimin explains, lips barely curving. Yoongi doesn’t ask further. He pays attention. “Let’s do something different every week! Have a picnic, go to the cinema, to the amusement park. We used to do all of those things back then!”

“Are you drunk?”

“No! You are, though,” Jimin tilts his head.

“Do you want to trick me?” Yoongi drawls, reclining on his chair. He must be crazy for thinking it doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.

“Maybe,” Jimin squints his eyes, following the joke. He knows how to charm people, and it’s working a bit on Yoongi.

Yoongi looks at him for a moment, searching for confirmation. He knows his face must give him away. It’s just spending time with a friend. Yoongi hasn’t had fun in a long while, except for his dinners with Namjoon.

After clicking his tongue, Yoongi grabs his glass and finishes the whiskey in one swift motion.

“You’ve got my number.”

Jimin raises his hands, triumphally. “Yes!”

The next week, they meet for lunch. Jimin said to start with something chill, and Yoongi has an hour to eat. So, on Wednesday, they meet in a street food area. Yoongi is wearing his usual work clothes, while Jimin is wearing long shorts, a t-shirt with a cute graphic and a cardigan. He’s already there when Yoongi arrives. They order different things so they can share as they sit on a bench. Jimin tells him that he took his mother out for tea on Sunday. He explains that she’s doing alright, still taking medication, but she’s grown a bit scared to go out by herself so Jimin’s always taking her somewhere, even doing grocery shopping together. Yoongi tells him about the work he’s doing, and the hour goes by pretty quickly.

That night, Jimin texts Yoongi telling him he had a nice time. Yoongi smiles before replying.

They begin texting occasionally. Yoongi isn’t the best texter and Jimin must sense it. He barely texts with Namjoon, except for weekly check-ups or random articles Namjoon finds. He basically didn’t text Jieun, only to remind each other the time and place of their next meeting if necessary. But Jimin is a natural talker, so he’s a natural texter. Yoongi doesn’t mind. 

They keep their promise and plan something different every week. A movie- Jimin doesn’t like horror movies so they go watch some romantic thing and Yoongi falls asleep in the middle of it. Jimin throws some popcorn to his face, trying not to laugh. They go bowling- the loser has to buy pizza and when Yoongi wins he feels guilty about their bet, so he buys them drinks. The following week to do a picnic at the park. Yoongi prepares sandwiches and Jimin brings some fruit. 

“Do you remember when we used to do this after summer classes?” Jimin asks.

Yoongi frowns. “I don’t remember the last time I did something like this.”

Jimin throws a grape at him. “You’re no fun, hyung.”

“Huh? I’m no fun?” Yoongi mocks him. “Do you want hyung to leave then?”

“No!” Jimin whines, although he’s smiling. He embraces Yoongi’s arm and looks up with puppy eyes. “Please, you are super fun, hyung. I like hanging out with you.”

Yoongi drifts his gaze elsewhere, feeling the weight of Jimin’s body against him. It shouldn’t affect him. It doesn’t. It’s just Jimin, his friend.

“You’re silly,”Yoongi mumbles in the end and Jimin giggles before sitting properly again.

Thoughts about rings and white veils begin to fade away from Yoongi’s mind, carried by a spring breeze that brings the smell of homemade noodles and vanilla shampoo.

One Sunday, they go out for dinner and get tipsy. Yoongi notices the way Jimin’s cheeks turn pink as alcohol begins settling in his system. They walk around, under the neon lights, and Yoongi feels light as a feather. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt like this.

“You should do a drawing of me,” Jimin’s voice is different when he’s drunk. More velvety and gentler to Yoongi’s ears.

“Do you want me to make you a portrait?”

They are wandering side by side but Jimin’s walking is a little wobbly and sometimes their arms brush.

“Yes! I’m the perfect model!”

Yoongi laughs. “Alright, I can try.”

“Good! We can do it on the next date.”

There’s a short silence where the word hangs above their hazy heads. Yoongi glances at Jimin, eyebrows shooting up but a smile unconsciously tugging at his lips.

“I mean- Next hang out!” Jimin quickly corrects, almost tripping with his own feet.

Yoongi swings an arm around Jimin’s waist to help him. There’s a neon sign on the shop’s window and Jimin’s face is suddenly purple. His eyes are round and his lips are slightly parted with the vestiges of a pout.

“You okay?” Yoongi barely registers his own voice, too busy admiring Jimin’s face. The shape of his caramel eyes, the roundness of his cheeks, the plush of his lips. His features are defined but carry a softness that makes Yoongi’s heart beats loud for the split of a second. Yoongi looks at Jimin as if the world has stopped and they are frozen in time.

Do you accept me as your husband, hyung? The echo of a child’s voice blows across Yoongi’s mind.

However, a slight squish on his bicep keeps the clock ticking and Yoongi blinks.

“Hyung,” Jimin murmurs, a hush of breath escaping between his lips.

Yoongi sees a crookedness in one of Jimin’s front teeth. 

Dragging their feet, they start walking again and, for some reason, Yoongi keeps his hand on Jimin’s lower back. Yoongi feels so warm, but maybe it’s just the alcohol and a spring night’s dream.

“I do. Do you accept me as your husband, Jiminie?”

“Of course, hyung!”

They share a short hug as they giggle together.

“We are gonna live together forever!” Jimin exclaims, clapping happily.

Yoongi smiles, fixing the flowers over Jimin’s head. “We’re family now.”

🏹

The soft scratch of a pencil is the only thing that can be heard between them. Apart from the distant murmur of kids playing or the occasional jingle of bicycles’ bells. Yoongi and Jimin have plopped down on a blanket by the river, the morning sun of a spring day gently warming their bodies. Yoongi is sitting with one leg propped up to hold his sketchbook against his thigh while he fills the paper with grey granite, printing on the page the sight of Jimin laying down, resting the back of his head on his hands as his arms are folded on both sides of his head. He’s sunbathing, as he protested in the first place, and Yoongi even draws the inch of skin that can be seen from underneath his pulled up shirt.

“You know I’m better at drawing buildings,” Yoongi speaks after a while.

Jimin snorts, keeping his eyes closed. “Perfect. You can practice.”

Yoongi scoffs, but it is a friendly sound. After landing his position in his father’s company, Yoongi just forgot about his interest in drawing. He became too busy with blueprints and reading documents or guiding teams, that he’d always find an excuse to not grab a pencil.

“When I was a kid I would dance in the living room all the time. I would move the coffee table and stay in front of the TV with the music channel on and just dance for hours,” Jimin says. “I used to believe one day I would be the one behind the screen.”

Yoongi strokes a line. “You still can.”

“Not with thirty-three years old,” Jimin giggles as if Yoongi said something silly. “It’s alright, hyung. I’ve already accepted my faith.”

“You sound as if you’re settling.”

“In a way I am,” Jimin answers. “But who can judge me? Sometimes life doesn’t happen the way we want to. We can dream, we can chase it, but sometimes we just must take a different way. As long as I don’t regret where I am.”

“Do you regret it?”

“I once did,” Jimin admits. “But regret doesn’t bring anything good.”

Yoongi looks up at Jimin, still laying under the sun. His hand stops the motion, thinking about his words.

“I’ve always wanted a family,” Yoongi admits in a murmur.

Jimin opens his eyes and lays on his side to focus on Yoongi. “It’s not too late for that.”

“Not with thirty-five?”

“It isn’t,” Jimin presses, and he sounds confident.

Turning to glance at the kids playing in the distance, Yoongi lets out a long exhale. “I thought I would graduate, get a good job, meet someone and-” Yoongi cuts himself to gulp the lump on his throat. He senses movement next to him and he turns back to find Jimin sitting next to him, legs pressed against his chest. “I thought I had my own plan and then…”

“You still have time, hyung,” Jimin says, lost in thought. “And nowadays there are many ways in which you can form a family. You just need to be certain.”

Yoongi looks forward to the river and the buildings reflecting on the surface; something comforting about its raw beauty. Yoongi thought he was certain.

“You never know when life will come knocking at your door. There’s the family we have and the one we choose.”

Yoongi wants to argue he hasn’t chosen many people for his life. In fact, he thinks the only one considered “chosen” because they met in college is Namjoon.

Well, and also Jimin. Especially Jimin. Because apart from him, Yoongi had no one. When they were kids, they would have fun together and then Yoongi would go back home, embracing walls of loneliness and silence. Perhaps Yoongi’s just craving what he never had. A plan that was already made up for him before he was even born.

“What happens when the one we choose doesn’t choose us?”

Jimin thinks for a moment. “Maybe it means they weren’t for us,” he pauses and utters his next words. “Or maybe they can’t see it just yet.”

Yoongi’s chuckle is dry. “The only thing I’m certain of is that I don’t want to spend my whole life waiting.”

That is true. Yoongi doesn’t want to come to an empty home for the rest of his life.

Seoul looks different underwater. It doesn’t look like a city, just a bunch of lonely buildings. Like the one where Yoongi lives.

“I’d get tired too,” Jimin murmurs quietly, Yoongi almost misses the sound of his voice. “Hyung, do you regret what happened?”

Yoongi’s eyes drag from Seoul to his hands over the page. For a second, he pictures an old plastic ring with a fake blue stone wrapped around his finger. Yoongi blinks and it’s gone.

For some reason, he can’t meet Jimin’s eyes when he answers.

A moment later, Jimin gently bumps his shoulder. “How’s my masterpiece going?” His tone goes back to a confident one.

With shyness, Yoongi shows his sketchbook. He hasn’t drawn a human in so long, so he doesn’t feel confident about it. But maybe Yoongi doesn’t feel confident about most things because he’s scared things will turn out wrong.

Maybe choosing someone means choosing safety.

“Damn, you should stick to buildings.”

Yoongi laughs loudly. He knows Jimin is teasing. Lately, Jimin always finds a way to make Yoongi laugh. Yoongi wants to laugh. He likes the feeling. It’s weirdly soothing.

“Come on, start again for me. I want to take a piece of Seoul with me tonight,” Jimin says, gesturing to the sight in front of them.

Yoongi doesn’t know if there’s a difference between the city’s reflection on the water and his drawing, but when Jimin brings the piece to his chest as he smiles at Yoongi, he thinks there must be something there.

In the end, Jimin takes both drawings home.

Yoongi takes his sketchbook to work. In fact, he brings it everywhere in his briefcase. Whenever he’s got free time, he practices. In fact, when Namjoon comes over for dinner during the week, he notices the book on the kitchen aisle and quietly begins taking a look.

“Yah, yah- What are you doing?” Yoongi snatches the sketchbook from Namjoon’s hands. 

“Haven’t seen you with one of those in a long while,” he encounters. “Just got curious.”

Yoongi begins walking to his room. “Take your curiosity to check my scalps.”

They share some beer as they eat. They talk about the usual things like work and family. Yoongi doesn’t have much to say about the last part. His father only talks to him about blueprints and contracts, but Yoongi doesn’t care much.

“Maybe I should find a position somewhere else,” he sighs as he plops back on his chair.

Namjoon tilts his head. “Well-”

“What?”

“No, nothing- Just-” Namjoon grimaces and Yoongi’s eyes widen. “Your thesis was about a sports center for children in need. And now you are building-”

“Fucking condos.”

“Yeah.”

They both sip from their cans.

“You could do so much, Yoongi. And you already have a name that can help you with that.”

“You sound like Jimin,” Yoongi mutters.

Namjoon shrugs. “You should be thankful you have smart… friends.” There’s a little hesitation over the last word and Yoongi’s eyebrows pinch together for a second.

Yoongi knows he wants to do something else than fancy buildings for rich people. Saying it in his head sounds horrific. Maybe that’s a start.

“So, when can I meet Jimin?”

“What?” Yoongi snaps out of his train of thought.

“You’re always talking about him,” Namjoon grins and Yoongi rolls his eyes.

But on Saturday, Yoongi takes Namjoon to the bar for drinks. Jimin is working and, as usual, he eyes at the door to see who’s entering. And when he sees Yoongi accompanied by another man, his smile is polite. A bit smaller and tighter. Jimin doesn’t hug him when they greet each other, and Yoongi’s eyebrows furrow for a second. He doesn’t comment on it, and just sits with Namjoon by the bar. They talk for a few minutes until Jimin says he must check something in the kitchen.

“He’s pretty,” Namjoon says once they are alone and Yoongi looks at him scandalous.

Jimin only walks out to attend some tables and when Yoongi glances around his shoulder he notices him already looking at him, but Jimin busies himself by doodling something on his little notepad.

Some time during the night, Yoongi goes to the bathroom. After washing his hands, he finds Jimin leaning against the end of the corridor as if he were waiting for him. The hallway is dark and their faces are softly illuminated by the bar’s dim lights.

“Hey,” Yoongi says, but Jimin keeps watching ahead. Yoongi diverts his eyes and discovers Namjoon talking with Jeongguk by the bar. They seem pretty engrossed in their conversation.

“Fuck,” Yoongi mumbles. “Joon likes him.”

Jimin arches an eyebrow, suddenly interested. “How do you know?”

“He hasn’t taken off his glasses. He’s trying to seduce him.”

“Shut up,” Jimin huffs, but he double-checks. “Well, Jeongguk likes everyone so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Should I worry?”

Finally, Jimin looks at him and something flickers over his expression when he realizes Yoongi already had his eyes on him.

He knows Yoongi’s question has a double meaning. Jimin tilts his head. A green hue from the exit sign reaches his honey skin. “No. You shouldn’t.”

By the end of the night, after the bar closes, Namjoon says he’ll go for a drink with Jeongguk. They wave each other goodbye and Jeongguk winks at them after patting Jimin’s back.

Yoongi offers to drive Jimin home. They are quieter than usual but the silence isn’t uncomfortable. Jimin looks tired tonight after a full week of work. He keeps his jean jacket folded over his lap and looks outside the window.

“I may have told my mom about you,” Jimin mumbles as they exit the avenue.

“Oh?” Yoongi shoots him a look, keeping both hands on the wheel.

“She said she wants to see you again.”

“Oh,”

“Hyung,” Jimin finally giggles, but it’s short-lived. He scratches his head. “What do you say?”

Yoongi replays the sound in his mind. He doesn’t have much to say. “I would love to.”

Jimin looks at him as he rests his head against the window, unable to hide his soft smile. This one is curvy and hopeful. “Saturday at 6pm? I’ll change my shift at the bar.”

“I’ll be there.”

During the week, Yoongi finds old blueprints for a community center. They include a gym, a tennis court and small theater. He makes notes and puts everything in a folder to show his father. Yoongi feels nervous as he presents the idea to a small group but when his father greenlights the development, he immediately pulls out his phone to tell Jimin.

“That’s wonderful, hyung! I knew you could do it!”

“I don’t know, I was ready for rejection-”

“Oh, hush! Your ideas are amazing and I know many people will be very happy about finding out,” Jimin speaks fast like when he’s excited.

Yoongi smiles, looking down at the papers on his desk. “I really want to do this. I haven’t been excited about a project for a while,” he admits.

“Even better, hyung. You’ll put all your dedication and it will come out incredible.”

Yoongi hears some noise at the end of the line and realizes it’s past lunch time.

“Uh, sorry. I didn’t even think if you were busy. I just wanted to say that.”

“It’s okay! I’m just doing grocery shopping with mom. We are buying ingredients for this Saturday.”

Yoongi shifts in his chair, s itting straighter. “Oh,” he bites his lip.

Jimin giggles. “Mom wants to cook many things. I told her you would oppose and would be alright with something simple but she’s excited.”

“I’ll bring something too.”

“Hyung! You are the guest!” Jimin protests but his voice sounds high pitched and bubbly.

Yoongi bounces his leg. “I don’t want to cause much trouble.”

“You aren’t, hyung. We’ll gladly make dinner.”

Yoongi’s throat suddenly itches and he gulps hard. “I’m still going to bring something,” he murmurs in the end.

“I know you will, hyung.” Jimin knows what Yoongi will do. “Sorry, I should go before mom buys the entire market,” he sounds a little regretful.

“No,” Yoongi shuts his eyes. “I mean, yes! Of course. I should get back to work too.”

“See you on Saturday, Yoongi hyung!”

The call ends after that and Yoongi can only think about recognizing Jimin’s smile through his voice.

On Saturday afternoon, Yoongi goes to shower and spends an embarrassing time getting ready. He shaves and washes his hair, and then stands in front of his closet for several minutes before he grabs something. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly doubting every decision he’s making. It must be the nerves, but why is Yoongi even nervous in the first place?

After many attempts, he changes into some slacks, more casual ones, and a polo shirt. He pats some cologne on his neck and wrists and then grabs the plate from the fridge before putting on his shoes. The night is warm and Yoongi can spot petals falling down from the trees and pooling by the sides of the street. He stops at the bakery to pick up his order and then drives to Jimin’s house. Yoongi’s been here a few times now, but he’s never actually paid attention to the neighborhood again. It’s been years but somehow he recognizes the way. The abandoned tattoo parlor and the old DVD shop. He can see pictures of their younger selves, strolling around the streets with their backpacks, packs of candies replaced by coins and stolen cigarettes as teenagehood bloomed like the cherry blossoms in spring.

Before everything withered and Yoongi welcomed a different spring.

After parking the car, Yoongi glances at the house.

It’s small and the yellow paint has seen better days. And when Yoongi is able to spot Jimin setting the table through the window, a smile tugs gently the corners of Yoongi’s lips.

He doesn’t even have to ring the bell because Jimin swings the door open before Yoongi can lift a finger. He looks nice. His blond hair is fluffy, a bit curly on the ends, and he’s wearing a flowy sweater and jeans.

Jimin beams. “Hyung, you’re here.”

Yoongi blinks. “I am.”

“You brought so many things!” Jimin whines, extending his arms to offer help.

Yoongi watches him before handing the bakery box which is the lightest. 

“Make yourself at home, hyung.”

Jimin lets him in and runs to the kitchen to leave the box as he calls for his mother. Yoongi lingers in the living room while holding a bowl of tonkatsu in his hands.

A moment later, Jimin and his mother appear. The woman smiles brightly and greets him with a hug as she tells Yoongi how handsome and mature he looks. The greeting is warm and welcoming and Yoongi isn’t nervous anymore.

Yoongi is an architect but he knows homes aren’t just about how they are made but more about the feeling of belonging someone experiences while staying.

Jimin’s mother is kind and quickly drags Yoongi to the kitchen to show him everything she’s prepared. Her figure is slim and her short hair hangs above her shoulders. Jimin resembles her a lot.

“Ah, Jimin-ah, look what Yoongi made!” She exclaims, opening the container.

The kitchen is small, blue ceramics on the walls and colorful magnets filling the fridge, so Yoongi doesn’t know exactly where to stand, and when Jimin approaches the counter, their sides touch. Yoongi remembers doing homework by the table in the corner.

“Woah, did you make tonkatsu, hyung?” Jimin eyes the dish and bends a bit to smell it too.

“Uh, yes,” Yoongi replies.

“You see, you can be in your thirties and know how to cook, Jimin.”

Jimin’s face turns red, just like the color of his sweater. “Eomma!”

Dinner is delicious and Yoongi feels so comfortable, he doesn’t even know why he was nervous in the first place. It’s true, Jimin’s mother prepared many dishes and even though Yoongi is full, he eats a bit extra just to keep her smile for a little longer. Jimin sits next to him and at some point during the night, they both are sitting cross-legged and their knees touch. Jimin’s laugh is loud when they remember something from their childhood and the pink on his cheeks never fades.

After dessert, Yoongi offers to do the dishes. Mother and son try to persuade him against it. In the end, Jimin’s mother tells Jimin to wash so Yoongi can dry, and she excuses herself to the bathroom. Although after they take everything to the kitchen, Yoongi steals the sponge from Jimin’s small hand and begins washing.

Jimin gasps and does a little jump to sit on the counter. “You’re lucky I’m so full and tired.”

“Yeah? What are you going to do?”

Jimin pouts, cheeks blushed. “I’ll fight you.”

Yoongi laughs at that, feeling Jimin’s eyes on him. Yoongi focuses on the bowls and glasses. His chest constricts at finding the situation awfully domestic. He hates himself for thinking he’s never got to live something like this with Jieun. But Yoongi’s mind doesn’t need to be unrealistic now.

Once they finish, they talk for a while in the living room, although Jimin’s mother grows sleepy after taking her medication.

Yoongi gets on his feet from the couch to bid her goodbye. Again, she hugs him.

“It’s so good to see you well, Yoongi-yah. Thank you for coming back,” she says against his neck before leaning back. “Ah, Jiminie, I left some pictures in your room in case you want to see them.”

Yoongi has to swallow the lump on his throat as they watch her walk away. He can’t imagine what it must have been like for Jimin to take care of her in much darker days. An old trace of pain can be read in Jimin’s eyes when Yoongi turns to him, but it quickly hides behind a small but honest smile. Jimin must be so used to everything, and yet he’s still cheerful and going on with his life.

“You know, Jimin, if you ever need anything…” Yoongi mumbles, shyly meeting Jimin’s gaze. He doesn’t mean to pry but he knows Jimin understands what he means.

“Thank you, hyung,” Jimin murmurs as well, although there’s no need since they are sitting right next to each other. The warm light from the lamp paints his features, his eyes big and round. Yoongi gulps.

They stare at each other for a moment, until Jimin blinks and Yoongi remembers where they are.

“So, do you wanna see my room?” He asks, as if Yoongi’s chest wasn’t heavy in front of him.

Yoongi wants to say he’s glad he’s back too. Instead, he nods and murmurs a yes. Jimin guides them to his bedroom, even though Yoongi still remembers where it’s located. The door at the end of a short corridor. It used to be covered with signs and stickers only a teenager would glue to their door, but now it’s a square piece of naked wood.

Jimin quietly opens the door, letting themselves inside. Yoongi immediately glances around, feeling a wave of nostalgia washes over him. The furniture it’s pretty much the same; the bed in the corner, a bedside table and a wardrobe by the opposite wall.

“You used to have-”

“Yeah, I sold it,” Jimin explains, reading Yoongi’s mind.

The desk in front of the bed, where Jimin would do his homework. Yoongi doesn’t ask more, knowing what Jimin means. He needed the money.

The room is small and cosy, with a fresh coat of paint that must have some years already. As Yoongi keeps on inspecting the place, Jimin shuffles through some boxes on the floor. Yoongi particularly stares at some polaroids stuck to the wall. There are some of Jimin with his mom, with Jeongguk and some other friends. Yoongi huffs softly when he notices a picture of Jimin and another guy, but they got their face covered by doodles and devil horns.

“Here,” Jimin says.

Yoongi turns and finds him holding a photobook with his hands. They sit on the bed to look at old photographs. From Jimin’s childhood to his teenage years. Jimin wearing a chick costume for a school’s play or Jimin on vacation at the beach. It’s endearing. Yoongi chuckles when he starts appearing in some of the pictures. It revives memories in his heart he didn’t know they were still stored inside of him.

“Oh, remember when you broke your arm that summer…” Yoongi murmurs, observing a picture of him and Jimin sitting by a pool while Jimin is wearing a cast around his right arm.

“Yeah,” Jimin giggles. “I actually had a good time that summer.”

Yoongi is too busy looking at the album to notice Jimin glancing at him. But Yoongi’s always looking somewhere else when Jimin is seeing him. They are sitting next to each other on the bed, their arms and legs touching, but Yoongi doesn’t mind. It has become natural the feeling of Jimin’s presence beside him.

“Really?” Yoongi gets distracted by another photograph of them on a school’s field trip.

Jimin’s voice drops to a whisper. “Yeah, because-”

Jimin cuts himself when Yoongi flips the page and their eyes immediately fall on a very particular photograph. It’s them when they were kids. Jimin was wearing one of his mother’s nightgowns and had a flower crown over his head, while Yoongi was wearing one of his dad’s jackets that was too big for an eight year old. The memory flashes through Yoongi’s mind- the spring sun filtering through the window, the silly music playing, Jimin drawing a moustache over Yoongi’s mouth.

The fake husband. Jimin has been talking about you nonstop.

Yoongi wanted to convince himself he didn’t remember, that it didn’t mean anything. Because, truly, what meaning can a foolish thing they did more than twenty years ago can have? They couldn’t have known.

The house has grown quiet and Yoongi discovers Jimin staring at the picture, lost in thought.

“You alright?” Yoongi murmurs, confused by Jimin’s reaction.

After a moment of stillness, Jimin blinks and meets Yoongi’s gaze. He nods and tries to smile but it comes off as a tight line. Maybe Jimin doesn’t like remembering the past as much after all. 

Still-

“Do you remember?” Even Jimin’s voice sounds different- dull and solemn.

“Uhm,” Yoongi hums and glances at the picture again, as if it could give him an answer. He doesn’t understand how the mood suddenly shifted.

“It’s-” He gulps, shaking his head. “It was just another one of our games.”

For the first time since they reunited, Jimin is silent. His expression contorts- a half smile turns into a grimace. A siren goes off in Yoongi’s brain. What is happening? But Jimin doesn’t talk nor he smiles or giggles- Instead, he takes the album from Yoongi’s hands and closes it abruptly, the thud sound ringing in Yoongi's ears. Yoongi remains frozen in place, clueless as to what to do. He’s never seen Jimin like this.

“Jimin? What’s wrong?”

But Jimin doesn’t even look at him. He’s avoiding Yoongi on purpose and it’s clear when Jimin stands to drop the album back on the box. And when Yoongi tries to come close, Jimin backs off as if Yoongi was fire and he didn’t want to get burned.

“I don’t- I should-” Jimin stutters, leaving Yoongi even more confused. “It’s getting late, maybe you-”

“Did I do something wrong? Have I upset you?” Yoongi questions, his mind trying to come up with a hundred different explanations at the same time.

Against all odds, Jimin huffs a laugh and Yoongi’s eyes widen. It’s an ironic sound. So Yoongi has done something wrong and now Jimin is upset because of him. 

“Jimin-ah-”

“Don’t,” Jimin doesn’t let him finish before he’s storming off the bedroom to the living room.

Yoongi quickly follows after him and he’s startled to see that Jimin has gone out through the front door. Outside the air is warm but Jimin’s eyes are cold when they set on Yoongi after the man calls for him.

“This was a bad idea. You shouldn’t have come.”

“What are you saying? Why was it a bad idea?”

“I thought it wouldn’t happen again but-” Jimin’s voice quivers and Yoongi steps forward.

“Jimin, what are you talking about?”

“Jesus, you are so blind, Yoongi. Even now you can’t see how much I like you, hyung,” Jimin admits fast, spitting the words at Yoongi’s face. The light from the porch casts a pale halo over his eyes, the rest of his figure is covered by Yoongi’s shadow standing in the middle. “I liked you so much when we were kids. I kept that plastic ring all these years with the crazy hope that you would come back one day and take me to a nice place where everything is good. When we went our ways, it broke my heart, but I convinced myself it was just a silly crush. And the night I saw you, I- I just couldn’t believe how easily it would have been to find you. But you found me. And I couldn’t let you go a second time, I couldn’t. So I told you the idea of revisiting our teenage years and having fun, meanwhile on the inside my heart just grew wider with all the love I want to give you but you aren’t seeing.”

The words resound on Yoongi’s mind like an echo, thoughts spiralling almost making him dizzy. His surroundings blur and melt on the sides and Yoongi can only focus in Jimin’s eyes begging him for an answer.

Yoongi is standing between Jimin and a home, and he should feel the need to run away but his feet are stuck to the ground.

But Yoongi takes too long, his silence only grows bigger, threatening to swallow him whole, as if his own heart hadn’t begun the process of devouring his needs a long time ago- so long that Yoongi almost can’t tell the difference of what he wants and what he should do.

“I understand,” Jimin says bitterly after a long moment of despair.

Now he doesn't only sound icy as a winter song, but something much haunting to Yoongi’s ears. Jimin sounds disappointed.

“Wait, Jimin-”

But Jimin looks down at his feet as he walks past him to enter his home, not even brushing Yoongi’s shoulder- and yet it feels like they are season’s apart. The home where Yoongi felt so welcomed, now it’s expelling him.

“Just leave, hyung,” Jimin sounds defeated.

But Yoongi doesn’t move. Only when he hears the knock of the door closing, does he walk away.

Yoongi doesn’t sleep that night. He lays awake in his bed, thinking about everything that happened. How can Jimin like him? Yoongi and him have always been so different. Yes they were friends- they are friends. They have fun together and Yoongi feels comfortable and at ease with Jimin. But their lives have been so different and Yoongi just-

Would he get what he wants with Jimin? No, it sounds so wrong to think about it.

Yoongi’s plan doesn’t sound right anymore. He thought he knew what he wanted but when he was just about to get it- it vanished. What does Yoongi want?

As if it couldn’t get worse, Namjoon texts on Sunday about his date with Jeongguk. He doesn’t seem suspicious about anything that happened, probably Jimin hasn’t told his friend yet. Or maybe he did and now they both hate him. And if Namjoon really likes Jeongguk, he will hate him too. Yoongi is being childish. 

There’s an empty cup of ramen on the bedside table as Yoongi continues to nest on his bed, reading his friend’s messages. A tug on his stomach tells Yoongi he’s feeling jealous and he doesn’t even know why. He shouldn’t feel jealous about Namjoon going on dates. He should feel happy for his friend. But Yoongi feels miserable.

Yoongi and Jimin wouldn’t even make a good match. Maybe that’s why they are good as friends. They know their differences and spend the right amount of time together. 

Why does Jimin like him anyway? Yoongi is usually quiet, reserved and socially awkward. He doesn’t like hanging out with too many people; he’s picky with people. He doesn’t like when the TV is too loud and probably drinks more beers during the week than he should.

What does Yoongi want?

Something that he knows for sure is that he doesn’t want Jimin to feel bad. Not only Jimin doesn’t deserve it but he’s got enough on his plate to worry about Yoongi’s indecisive heart.

At night, Yoongi sends a text. He already knows Jimin won’t reply.

Yoongi doesn’t hear anything from Jimin for the rest of the week.

On Friday night, Yoongi goes to the bar.

It’s crowded and Yoongi’s gaze scans through the customers in search of Jimin. When Jeongguk is the one exiting the kitchen, Yoongi approaches the counter. Jeongguk notices him before Yoongi gets too close and he doesn’t seem surprised to see him.

“Hi,” Yoongi starts, already feeling dumb. “Is Jimin here?”

A guy asks for a drink and Jeongguk silently asks for a second to pour vodka and juice on a glass. Then, he moves in front of Yoongi, resting his palms over the counter, his fully tattooed arm exposed tonight.

“Jimin’s not here,” they say and Yoongi clenches his jaw. “He doesn’t want to see you.”

As if , Yoongi thinks. He hasn’t been answering any texts or calls.

Yoongi nods. “Could you tell him I stopped by?”

Jeongguk watches him for a moment, pursing his lower lip. They are not mad at Yoongi, in fact, it seems that Jeongguk pities him right now.

“I will, Yoongi.”

Someone else asks for another drink and Jeongguk subtly rolls their eyes.

“Sorry, I-” Yoongi mumbles, withdrawing his steps. 

Jeongguk has work to do and Yoongi’s only interrupting. Before pulling the door open again, though, Yoongi bites his lower lip and walks back to the bar. He needs Jimin to listen to him somehow. Jeongguk now seems surprised and he shoots his eyebrows up in question as he prepares another drink.

“Just-” Yoongi forces himself to stop mumbling. “Could you tell him that I did remember? And I do remember now, and that it’s not a game anymore.”

Jeongguk blinks, confused, but in the end they nod. “Of course.”

“Oh, and I’m glad you and Joon are doing well.”

“Thank you, Yoongi. I’ll pass the message.”

As the days pass, Yoongi is more aware how boring his time becomes without Jimin. His life is like before, waking up alone, going to work, spending his evening alone in his apartment and pitying life to then go to sleep. After the second week, Yoongi feels powerless. He doesn’t have any plans nor has someone to talk to. Yes, he could meet Namjoon but Yoongi doesn’t feel like it now.

Because Yoongi wants to see Jimin. He wants to talk to Jimin and make silly plans with Jimin. Yoongi wants to tell him about his day, about how the new project at work is going. He wants Jimin to complain about drunk customers or tell him about the latest gossip he saw online. Yoongi wants to see him smile and hear him laugh. He wants Jimin to make him laugh.

Yoongi misses Jimin. He misses his voice, his eyes. The way his cheeks round up when he’s happy or the way his golden hair curls at the ends when the weather is too humid. He misses the way Jimin grows sleepy after having a good meal or the way he tends to lean towards Yoongi when they walk together.

He’s never even got to see Jimin dancing again.

Yoongi misses Jimin and he can’t see him, but Yoongi can draw him.

Yoongi stays up late drawing and checking his phone to see if Jimin has replied. Yoongi falls asleep with his sketchbook against his chest.

So this is what happened when Yoongi got into college. He just stopped replying. Focused too much on exams and getting wasted with Namjoon on weekends to even think about Jimin. Yoongi feels ashamed.

In the third week, something unexpected happens.

Yoongi has finished a meeting when he sees his father talking with someone near the elevators. As he walks to his office, he tries spying on who the person might be and his steps falter when he discovers Jieun smiling at his father. 

As if she could sense him, Jieun’s eyes set past the old man, falling on Yoongi. His father glances over his shoulder and calls him.

“Come here, Yoongi!”

Shit. The least Yoongi needs right now is an encounter with his annoying father and ex girlfriend- fiancé. They don’t need much introduction, apart from his father telling him how Jieun is fresh back from London. Yoongi nods.

“I wanted to ask if you were free for lunch, Yoongi.”

Well that’s unexpected. Before he can utter a sound, his father pats Yoongi’s shoulder.

“Of course he is! In fact, let me call a driver so they’ll take you to a nice place I know. You don’t have to worry about the time, I’ll cover you, son.”

Jieun is smart. She knew Yoongi wouldn’t say no if she asked in front of Mr. Min.

On the way to the restaurant, Yoongi doesn’t hide his discomfort. He knows crossing paths with Jieun might be inevitable at some point in the future. Their families have signed a millionaire contract to build a series of hotels around the country. Yoongi isn’t so naive to believe he would never see Jieun again, although maybe it’s the most convenient thing for the both of them.

Yoongi checks his phone, but still no notification comes in.

They are taken to a restaurant near the river. Yoongi’s been here a few times, so he recognizes the host at the front door. They are numbered the times Yoongi and Jieun went out for a fancy meal, and now Yoongi feels fidgety. The light is too bright and the tinkling of the cutlery picks at Yoongi’s brain. 

Once seated in front of the other, Yoongi realizes how much he hasn’t been thinking about the wedding the moment he locks eyes with Jieun. She looks different but the same. There’s a different air surrounding her, probably a happiness she never felt when she was with Yoongi.

“Thank you for meeting me, Yoongi,” she greets him like that and raises a hand to have two servers pouring water onto their glasses.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything.

“I’ve seen you in better days,” she comments, getting caught up in Yoongi’s absent state.

Yoongi blinks and takes a sip from his water, pulling himself together. The faster he gets done with this, the better. “How have you been?”

Jieun likes the question. She talks about her time in London and how she plans on opening her own beauty company- Yoongi has a hard time listening. Jieun always complained about that. They argued about it a few times. Yoongi sees her mouth move as she speaks, but Yoongi’s ears only hear a subtle buzzing as if time slowed down. He notices the people eating at the restaurant, couples, families, friends- all different people. He and Jieun are none of that.

“Yoongi.”

Yoongi snaps his gaze at her, but surprisingly she doesn’t look mad. Before, he would expect a scolding about how he barely pays attention to her, but now Yoongi just-

“I’ll be honest with you,” Jieun continues and a crease forms between Yoongi’s brows. “I never got to thank you.”

Yoongi softly shakes his head. “Thank me?”

“If you’d never run off from the church, I don’t know where we’d be today.”

The restaurant’s bustle returns to Yoongi’s ears. He feels his own weight on the chair.

“What?” Yoongi blinks.

Jieun half smiles. “Oh, Yoongi, don’t play dumb now.”

“What do you mean?”

Jieun exhales a soft sharp breath through her mouth. She never lets too much emotion pour out of herself. She is a lovely woman, but Jieun has always been colder and more calculated than him.

The ghost of Jimin’s laugh hovers over Yoongi’s mind.

“Yoongi, you were the one who left me at the altar. Did you forget already?” Her right eyebrow arches slightly and that’s how Yoongi knows she’s a bit irritated.

“No,” Yoongi finally recovers his consciousness. “I haven’t forgotten. I know what I did, but I’m sorry for leaving you all alone in front of so many people.”

Jieun keeps quiet for a moment, not expecting an apology.

“I’m sorry if I caused you any pain by my decision.”

“I was a bit hurt the first few days. But I understood your decision. I apologize if my early words were harsh.”

“No, it’s-”

“I still mean what I said. We should have stopped everything before or at least have had a serious conversation about it,” she concludes.

But if they had done that, Yoongi would have never-

Jimin.

The realization feels like a kick in the stomach. Yoongi left at the altar because he didn’t want a marriage with Jieun. He was too ashamed and embarrassed to admit it before, but now he knows. Yoongi knows what he wants. It’s always been there, life knocking at his door. Yoongi just had to listen.

Spring is about to end and Yoongi doesn’t want to spend it without Jimin.

“Maybe we should order before starting this conversation-”

“Actually,” Yoongi drags his chair backwards. “I have to leave.”

Jieun frowns in confusion. Yoongi is leaving her again. But can he truly leave if they’ve never belonged to each other in the first place? Yoongi isn’t leaving because of her, he must so he can go find someone else. The person Yoongi can be himself with. The person Yoongi made a promise to all those years ago.

Yoongi must return to Jimin.

“I need to find someone. I- I’m so sorry, Jieun. I should’ve been more honest, but now- I need to go.” Yoongi says, and it’s probably a vague and poor excuse, although it’s everything Yoongi needs to know to start running.

Yoongi moves as fast as he can. His legs begin aching after a few blocks but Yoongi keeps on running. Sweat collects at the back of his head and his skin turns hot under his suit the more he runs. He only allows himself to breathe when he must stop at a red light and then picks up his pace again. The world spins the same but Seoul shakes as Yoongi makes his way to the corner where he began to remember again.

It takes him a while to recognize the street but Yoongi finally arrives. His feet slow down on the block before, in a way to catch his breath miraculously. Yoongi is sweaty and his cheeks must be red as he enters the bar.

Just as he suspected, Jimin is taking the order of a couple of ladies. Once he hears the bells tingling, he glances at the entrance and his eyes widen when he recognizes Yoongi.

“Jimin,” Yoongi cuts himself to take a deep breath. Jesus, it’s so hot. Before continuing, Yoongi takes off his jacket and loses his tie. Everyone looks at him as if he was a madman. “Please, just- Just listen,”

Jimin doesn’t move. He simply wears a startled face and nods after a moment to indicate to Yoongi that he is, in fact, listening.

Yoongi cleans the sweat over his upper lip with the back of his hand. His heart is pounding in his chest and not only because of the lack of air.

“I’m an idiot,” he admits. Someone snorts in the bar. Yoongi just looks at Jimin, at his pretty caramel eyes. “I never know what I want, I was going to marry someone I don’t love and I only have one friend. And it’s probably my fault we lost contact in the first place but I don’t want that to happen again. I don’t want to let you go, Park Jimin. And I don’t want to leave either.”

Jimin looks at him for a long moment before stepping forward. “You only have one friend?”

A smile threatens to break out over Yoongi’s lips, endeared by Jimin. He takes a couple steps until they are in front of the other. Jimin’s eyes hold a glimmer of hope, though he seems hesitant.

“I don’t want you to be just my friend, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi hopes his words are clear.

Jimin softly sucks on a breath, looking between Yoongi’s eyes. “Hyung…”

Yoongi opens his mouth to say the words. He’s nervous but he knows Jimin wants to hear them. “I like you, Jimin-ah.”

Jimin puts his hands on Yoongi’s shoulders, still holding his notepad and pen. “Do you mean that, hyung?”

“I do.”

Jimin’s smile is the brightest Yoongi’s ever seen. It happens so quickly, people in the bar start clapping at them and saying encouraging words, while Jimin leans in to leave a kiss on Yoongi’s cheek.

“My shift ends in two hours, hyung,” Jimin says, his tone so gentle and sweet. Yoongi wants to melt on it.

“I’ll wait.”

“Really? What about work?”

“I don’t care,” Yoongi blurts out.

Jimin giggles, shaking his head. His hands fall down from Yoongi’s body as he begins to pull away, but an impulse takes over Yoongi. Jimin just kissed his cheek and yet Yoongi might want more.

“Jimin-ah,” Yoongi murmurs, wrapping a hand over Jimin’s wrist. “Can I-”

Jimin nods before Yoongi can finish the question. Stepping closer until the tip of their shoes touch, Yoongi carefully places his hands on Jimin’s waist, while Jimin surrounds Yoongi’s neck with his arms.

“Do you want this?” Yoongi whispers, breath fanning over Jimin’s lips.

Jimin’s lashes flutter, making their noses brush. “I do, hyung.”

Leaning at the same time, their lips meet in a perfect kiss. It’s patient and charged with emotion. Jimin’s lips are soft and they taste like cherry chapstick. Yoongi finds it cute. Everything about Jimin is cute. Yoongi melts into the touch, relaxing against Jimin’s body and making himself comfortable as if he were at home. Kissing Jimin feels like coming back home. The kiss doesn’t last long, only enough to make Yoongi’s heart beat fast again, but it’s worth it. They are both blushing when they pull apart and smile like idiots in love.

Jimin invites him lunch and Yoongi sits on his usual stool by the bar. Only this time, when Jimin places a bowl of warm noodles in front of him, he leans over the counter to steal a kiss from Yoongi’s lips.

“I have to collect my tip,” Jimin says cheekily.

Yoongi chuckles. “Tips are collected after the meal.”

Jimin smiles, cheeks rounding up and eyes turning into crescents. Yoongi’s heart is so bloomed.

“Is that an invitation, hyung?” He asks, leaning over the counter.

Pink spreads on Yoongi’s cheeks. “You are always invited, Jimin-ah.”

Maybe feelings are like seasons, they always return. Sometimes in different shapes or colors, but Yoongi realizes that day that he might always have felt the same way about Jimin, the same way he expects spring to return every year.

🏹🏹🏹

“Hyung, are you ready?” Jimin calls him from downstairs.

Yoongi hisses a curse, throwing the fabric over his neck and grabbing his jacket from the hanger to walk out of the dresser. In the hallway, he stops on his tracks for a short moment to watch inside the room, content by the shade of blue he chose and the plushies Jimin bought last week. The room Yoongi designed years ago and expected to be empty for a long time, now it’s complete. 

Yoongi puts his jacket on as he goes down the stairs, finding Jimin putting his shoes on by the entrance.

“There you are,” Jimin smiles, glancing up to smile at him. “I was going to come find you.”

Yoongi’s mind is all over the place right now to put on an expression. But Jimin knows Yoongi too well, so once he’s ready, Jimin walks in front of him and silently begins working on the knot of his tie. Jimin knows Yoongi sometimes needs silence to order his thoughts.

“You weren’t so nervous when I walked down the aisle,” Jimin gently teases, just to lighten up the mood.

Yoongi sighs, placing his hands on his husband’s waist. Yoongi always finds a way to touch Jimin, to feel him close. “Because I knew you’d say yes.”

Jimin giggles, always bright, and Yoongi watches his face, endeared. “Someone’s confident.”

“I believe that title belongs to you.”

Jimin adjusts the tie around Yoongi’s neck and leaves his hands on his chest. They stare at each other for a moment, connected by their loving gazes. It’s been years now and Yoongi has grown less shy, of course, about the way Jimin looks at him- Yoongi loves the way Jimin looks at him.

“It’s going to be fine, hyung,” Jimin says softly.

Yoongi nods, excitement and fear twisting in his stomach. They’ve been preparing for months and today is finally the day.

“Everything’s ready?” Instead, Yoongi asks, squeezing Jimin’s waist.

“Yes!” Jimin beams, lighting up Yoongi’s whole life. “We cleaned the entire house and prepared the meals. Mom said she wanted to come today, but I told her to wait a couple days, you know?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi clicks his tongue. He hates denying Jimin’s mother something. “Maybe we can see tomorrow.”

Yoongi’s mother called as well but she is more cautious about the matter. She’s trying to keep her distance while also calling Yoongi late asking many questions- had done so while Yoongi and Jimin were making out on the couch the other night. Jimin had been back from the dance academy after teaching classes all day, his hair was fluffy, his cheeks pink and skin slightly glowy from sweat, and Yoongi couldn’t resist him.

Ever since Yoongi left the family’s company and married his beautiful husband, Yoongi’s parents haven’t been the most welcoming and Yoongi is old enough to choose his own battles. It’s their miss.

Jimin pecks his lips. “I love you.”

Yoongi chuckles before leaning in for a longer kiss. This will be the last time they leave the house as a pair, because their home will soon welcome them as a family of three.

“Let’s go pick up our child,” Jimin says, confident as ever, and when he wraps his hand around the doorknob, Yoongi smiles at the sight of his ring contrasting over his honey skin.

As they venture outside and the spring breeze gently blows between the bloomed trees, Yoongi’s never been so eager to come back home.