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There was a dark haired male lying on an empty skate ramp, not moving.
Jimin wondered for a second if he had just stumbled upon a dead body and was contemplating running. He was on the verge of panicking when he noticed the slight rise and fall of the stranger’s chest. Good, Jimin breathed out, he was still alive and seemingly completely unaware of Jimin’s presence.
It was dark outside, a steady breeze kept blowing Jimin’s fringe in his eyes and he shivered, pulling the sleeves of his bomber jacket further down his small hands as he carefully walked a little closer to the ramp.
Jimin liked to believe that he was a good person. He had been taught by his mother that when someone was in need, you should always help them.
So when Jimin was younger he volunteered at the animal shelter, as well as walking his aunt’s dog while she was at work. He visited his grandmother every month, made the trip despite it being two hours on the train, all because he didn’t want her to be lonely. He donated money to charities, had fed the fat neighborhood cat at least three times last month and had bought 5 tubs of chocolate ice cream for Hoseok when his girlfriend broke up with him.
Yeah, Jimin was a pretty damn good person.
And as any pretty damn good person would do when they saw someone obviously hurt, he crouched down to check on the half conscious man.
He noticed two things.
One: the man in front of him was beautiful. A pale complexion, heart shaped face half hidden behind a black face mask and a black beanie slipped over even darker strands of hair. (Jimin was positively staring, captivated.)
Two: his t-shirt and jacket were covered in little drops of dark red blood.
Jimin was a little naïve. He liked to believe that essentially, humans were good. So when he saw someone with blood on them, he called them an ambulance or got them a band aid. At the very least provided them with some sort of basic aid and maybe a backrub for comfort. Not for a second would he assume that the blood on them might not even be theirs.
So Jimin lowered himself onto the ramp, now fully sitting down next to the stranger, left hand resting on the cold surface.
‘Hey,’ he didn’t dare to actually touch the guy, but did consider slightly nudging him just to see more movement than the slow heaving of his chest. It was making him nervous. ‘Are you okay?’
No reaction.
‘Are you hurt?’ Jimin wanted to slap himself because duh, stupid question seeing the guy was barely conscious and covered in fucking blood.
Jimin sighed, nervously clasped his hands together. ‘Hey, is there anything I can do? Can you hear me? Do I need to call you an ambulance?’
Jimin was already reaching for his phone when suddenly slender fingers wrapped around his wrist tightly, two brown eyes staring up at him in panic.
‘Don’t.’
‘Okay, okay,’ Jimin breathed out in surprise, pulled his hand away from his coat pocket and shrugged his arm out of the stranger’s hold. ‘Was just trying to help. Are you okay?’
‘Fucking perfect,’ was the response he got.
Jimin gasped in disbelief, not picking up on the obvious sarcasm in the guy’s voice, ‘but there’s blood on you?’
The man lifted his head a little, gave his chest a quick look-over, ‘oh, there is?’
‘Yeah it’s right,’ Jimin reached his hand out to point at the drops but was met with a glare, the ‘there,’ dying on his tongue.
‘God, of course I know there’s blood on me,’ the guy’s voice was cold and hoarse and definitely contained a hint of anger.
Jimin wondered why this guy had to be so rude. He was just trying to help, trying to be a nice decent human being in this messed up society. This guy laying on a graffiti covered ramp late at night should be thankful. ‘Okay, so you’re gonna be fine?’
The man shrugged, pulled his mask down to his chin, eyes briefly meeting Jimin’s, ‘why wouldn’t I be.’
Did this guy want the damn list? Because Jimin could think of at least ten things as to why this guy most definitely wouldn’t be fine.
Jimin shook his head, standing up, ‘well in that case take care, then, I guess.’ He looked over the man once more, seeing the other avoid his gaze.
‘Kid, could you stop checking me out and go to bed or something.’
Jimin frowned, stumbled over his words a little. ‘No, you just looked,’ Jimin tucked his hands deeper into his pockets, ‘strangely familiar.’ He wanted to add more to his explanation but decided that it’d be better if he went home. The guy didn’t want his help, and that was perfectly fine with Jimin. It only stung him just a little that his kindness had been rejected.
‘Just one last thing,’ Jimin took a few steps back, ‘what’s your name?’
This actually earned him a sarcastic snort, ‘you want to know my name? Why?’
‘Just curious,’ Jimin forced a smile on his face, tried to look as friendly as possible. Especially now that the mask was out of the way Jimin slowly realized that he had seen him before. He just couldn’t quite place him.
‘Will you stop bothering me if I tell you?’
‘Yeah,’ Jimin nodded, ‘sure.’
‘It’s Yoongi, now kindly leave me the fuck alone, thank you.’
But you see, now Jimin couldn’t possibly leave him alone.
Jimin was next to him again within seconds, jumping on top of Yoongi’s thighs and sat down, hands coming up to cup either side of Yoongi’s face. ‘Yoongi? I knew it was you!’
Yoongi just frowned in return, lifted his leg to try and get this kid off of him because what the fuck?
‘It’s me! Jimin! Park Jimin?’
No sign of recognition was detectable on the older boy’s face as the younger smiled at him with even more worry present in his eyes than before.
‘Yoongi, don’t you remember? You lived down the street, we walked to school together for years!’ Jimin’s smile dropped when Yoongi still remained completely emotionless. His voice turned into a disappointed whisper, ‘you -you don’t remember? We were like, best friends?’
Jimin sat back a little, ‘I -I lived on number 20 and you on 40.’
Suddenly Yoongi shot up, groaning with the weight of Jimin still on his legs, and for the first time Jimin noticed there were little drops of blood around his right eyebrow as well.
‘Jiminie?’
Jimin nodded, almost wrapping Yoongi up in a hug but he couldn’t quite remember if Yoongi had been much of a hugger. Had the boy been one for skin ship? Jimin vaguely recalled this one time it had been storming heavily on the way back home from school, and they had ran with their fingers laced together. But they were practically strangers now and everything was a bit of a blur. Jimin was too overwhelmed with the shock of seeing Yoongi to think straight.
‘Yeah, it’s me,’ Jimin felt a strange sort of relieve wash over him. ‘And I’m taking you home with me right now to get you cleaned up, okay? Did you fall?’ His voice suddenly got a lot softer.
Yoongi had no choice but to stumble up with the force the younger was pulling on his arm, ‘no, no I didn’t.’
‘Then what did you do you clumsy idiot,’ Jimin chuckled.
Yoongi groaned, nervously looking around, relieved to find they were the only ones there.
‘And no complaining because we’re long lost friends, and as your long lost friend it’s my duty to patch you up a little,’ Jimin smiled again, pulling Yoongi into the darkness with him. Yoongi sighed, knowing that he had no choice but to follow the younger who exclaimed that he, ‘lived really near!’
Jiminie.
Yoongi didn’t think he’d ever see that bright smile or those kind eyes again. How long had it been since he had told his mother at the dinner table that he was in love with Jimin? How long had it been since his mother had then proceeded to tell 15 year old him that he was never seeing the boy again? That there was no way he was going to bring shame on the family like that? He just had to find himself a nice girl soon, he was already 15 years old, going to the school for the big kids, and his mother hadn’t raised ‘a little fag.’ So Jimin had been quietly cut out of his life. Even back then, Yoongi knew he and Jimin had shared something special. Maybe that was why his parents were so big on tearing them apart. Jimin was bad for him, they said. Why? Because Jimin had given Yoongi butterflies.
Maybe that was when Yoongi had started to become seriously messed up.
He honestly really hated the way Jimin cutely fumbled with his keys before unlocking the door and leading Yoongi to the bathroom. He didn’t deserve this treatment at all. Not after what he had done.
Park Jimin was someone he had pushed away to the far corners of his mind. And maybe that was why he didn’t recognize him at first, because he didn’t want this to be reality. But it was. Jimin gently dapping the blood on his brow away with a damp washcloth was the reality he found himself in.
‘Such a small world, isn’t it?’ Jimin sighed. He pushed Yoongi’s thigh, which was resting on the sink, out of the way to turn the tap on and wash the cloth out. ‘You’re lucky I found you.’
Yoongi tapped his fingers on the surface of Jimin’s sink, dragging his index finger across the white porcelain. It took him longer than normal to form a response. ‘Yes, how have you been?’
‘Good! Busy with college and finding jobs for when I graduate. Working hard to make something of my life.’
It was almost as if Jimin knew and wanted to rub it in Yoongi’s face that he never had accomplished anything. ‘That’s good,’ Yoongi nodded, ‘I’m sure you’ll go places.’
‘I hope so,’ Jimin weakly smiled, looked down at Yoongi’s slightly bloody t-shirt, already reaching for the material, ‘you want to borrow clean clothes? Are there wounds underneath?’
‘No, it’s nothing, just a small accident,’ Yoongi quickly moved his hands in front of his chest. ‘And I should get going actually, you probably have more important things to do,’ Yoongi placed his hands on either side of him to push himself up but was held in place by a firm hand around his upper arm.
‘No, silly, I haven’t seen you in years! Let’s catch up a little,’ again that blinding smile and for some reason Yoongi went limp against Jimin’s touch.
Jimin was too good of a person, still too naïve and gullible, still too soft and still a weak spot for Yoongi.
‘I’m getting you a hoodie you can borrow, and you can go to the living room. Second door to your right, and I’ll better find you on the couch when I come back,’ Jimin looked up, shyly meeting his eyes, ‘I’m really glad to see you again, Yoongi.’
Jimin walked to the door, resting his hand on handle, ‘you just disappeared one day.’
Yoongi somehow felt more guilty over that than over what he had just done.
He slowly shuffled towards the living room, which was small but cozy. He sank down onto the couch and promptly felt like dropping his head in his hands and crying. But he had to keep his act together. He straightened his back and took a deep breath right before Jimin walked in.
‘Thanks,’ he murmured as Jimin threw the hoodie in his direction. The younger left the room for a minute so Yoongi could change, coming back to sit on the chair opposite him, resting his legs on the small coffee table.
The inevitable question soon rolled of Jimin’s lips, ‘so what were you doing on that ramp?’
Yoongi nervously rubbed at his elbow, ‘had to run, tripped, decided the ramp was kind of comfy and passed out.’
Jimin snorted, ‘that sounds absolutely ridiculous but okay. Why did you have to run, though? Was that why you were hurt?’ the younger tilted his head, ‘and were so rude to me?’
‘God, Jimin, still as nosey,’ Yoongi reached out to nudge the younger’s feet. Unfortunately for Yoongi, Jimin still hadn’t lost his piercing stare and it made him want to open up, but wasn’t sure if he should.
Jimin leaned forward to place his hand reassuringly on Yoongi’s knee. Yoongi flinched a little at the sudden contact. ‘You know you can tell me, right? I’m still the same Jimin, and you’re still the same Yoongi.’
Except Yoongi wasn’t.
‘Shall I get us some tea? Water? I have soju but I don’t take my alcohol that well, but if you want some?’ Jimin offered, changing the subject in attempt to lighten the mood. He didn’t want to make Yoongi too uncomfortable, didn’t want to scare him away. Over the years, he had slowly lost hope of ever seeing Yoongi again. Of course he had imagined what it would be like to meet him again, but these circumstances had never been a part of his fantasies. Nevertheless, the sight of Yoongi sitting on his couch, seemingly well and alive, made his heart jump a little. He noticed all of Yoongi’s nervous habits had already appeared in the few minutes he had been with Jimin. Murmuring, scratching his elbow, tapping his fingers. Sure, seeing Yoongi made Jimin feel giddy and nervous as well, but something about Yoongi seemed a little off. But Jimin wasn’t one to judge, especially not when it came to Yoongi, so he tried his best to make the other boy feel at ease.
‘Water is good,’ Yoongi told him before Jimin disappeared into the kitchen.
Yoongi allowed himself to smile a little, ‘I don’t take my alcohol that well,’ -Jimin had always been a lightweight.
They had been 15.
It was a couple of weeks before Yoongi told his parents about his feelings for the younger. They were at Jimin’s house and his parents were out of town. It was the first time drinking for Jimin.
Jimin’s father’s liquor was way too strong and bitter, and neither of them really liked it. But within an hour it had them feeling all giggly and dizzy.
Jimin had tried to kiss him that night.
Yoongi had never kissed anyone before, and he was scared. What if he wasn’t good at it? He was older, he was supposed to know how kissing worked, to take the lead. But he couldn’t and suddenly having Jimin so close made him so nervous he had turned away. He had grabbed the half empty bottle out of Jimin’s hands, stuttered as he told the younger he had had enough to drink.
Yoongi figured it had just been the alcohol, but a little part of him liked to believe Jimin had tried because he had felt the same. He hadn’t brought it up when they woke up the next morning, both with a headache, a respectable distance between Yoongi’s air mattress and Jimin’s bed. He recalled wondering whether Jimin would even remember his attempt at all as he had stared at the ceiling of the younger’s bedroom.
Jimin handed him his water, flopping down next to him on the couch. He pulled his socked feet up, looking even smaller and quite frankly Yoongi found it adorable.
Yoongi’s hands still shook a little as he lifted the glass to his lips.
They talked some more, Jimin politely informing about his parents, interests, brought up some distant memories. Giggled when he started talking about their attempts at blanket forts and tree climbing. Hands coming up to cover his mouth as he recalled that one time in detention when they had tried to escape through the window (and had only gotten more detention after that.) It wasn’t until the subject landed on Yoongi’s career choice that he really didn’t know what to say anymore.
‘It’s a bit of a mess right now,’ Yoongi admitted, sinking further into the couch. It was nearing 1in the morning, water long finished and glass empty on the coffee table.
‘That’s okay,’ Jimin turned to Yoongi, crossing his legs, knees poking Yoongi’s thighs, ‘you know I won’t judge you.’
Yoongi shook his head, ‘you will.’
Jimin wanted to reassure Yoongi that, no, he wouldn’t, but Yoongi cut him off.
‘I should go.’
Waves of panic were resurfacing, and Yoongi didn’t want to risk drowning in them with Jimin near. He needed to leave. Jimin had no place in his life, not anymore, couldn’t have one now that everything was so incredibly fucked up. ‘It was really nice seeing you,’ Yoongi sadly smiled, and he meant it. Seeing Jimin again was like a breath of air after being suffocated. But he couldn’t stay.
‘You’re not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong,’ the younger pushed. ‘I know you, Yoongi. You know I do, don’t think I didn’t notice, it might have been years but I know you. Why was there blood on you? Because if you didn’t fall, and you had to run -did you fight? Did someone hurt you?’ Jimin reached out for Yoongi again, the caring tone in his voice making it hard for Yoongi not to break down and just tell Jimin everything.
Yoongi pushed past Jimin, using more force than he had intended to, visibly surprising Jimin. ‘No, that’s not it. And you don’t know me, not anymore, we haven’t seen each other in years. I’m not that 15 year old kid anymore, and neither are you. I really should go.’
Yoongi swallowed hard as he took a few more steps back and away from Jimin. He was such a fucking disappointment. Felt like one too. Hated himself for the lack of emotion in his voice.
He noticed his feet were still sore from running as he took a few steps towards the door. Because he ran, had ran away from the scene like a fucking coward. Eventually tripped over that stupid ramp when he wasn’t looking and decided to just stay there on the cold surface. Not having the energy to move anymore. Both physically and mentally drained, and then Park Jimin had appeared like a goddamn angel.
‘I’m just trying to help you,’ Jimin sighed, running a hand trough his hair.
Yoongi avoided Jimin’s eyes. ‘You want this back?’ he asked, motioning towards the hoodie he was currently drowning in.
‘No, keep it.’
Jimin didn’t know why he wanted Yoongi to have a piece of him. But he liked the thought of Yoongi having it. Maybe he just wanted Yoongi to have something to remind him of how much he had meant to Jimin growing up. Much more than Yoongi probably realized. Jimin successfully managed to place a hand on Yoongi’s arm as they stood in the middle of the hallway. He didn’t say anything, just looked at the person in front of him. It was still his Yoongi, right?
Jimin dropped his gaze, not sure of the answer anymore. Something was wrong.
Yoongi slowly moved a clammy hand over the soft material of the hoodie. It smelled so much like Jimin. The fact that he still recognized the younger’s scent after so many years made his head spin. He couldn’t keep it in anymore.
‘I,’ Yoongi spoke up, ‘I hurt someone.’
He looked down, ‘I hurt someone really badly because I was assigned to do so.’
Jimin’s grip on Yoongi’s arm tightened.
‘The blood isn’t mine. It was of someone who in the eyes of others deserved to bleed. And he actually deserved to, he did horrible things, things you don’t even want to imagine. And they told me I had to get the job done.’
‘Yoongi,’ Jimin whispered, bringing a hand up to Yoongi’s cheek.
Still his Yoongi, he repeated it in his head like a mantra, this was his Yoongi. He didn’t have to be scared. It was his Yoongi. He didn’t allow himself to hesitate, afraid he would actually get anxious.
He slowly started caressing Yoongi’s cheek as he saw tears forming in the boy’s eyes. ‘Let’s sit down okay?’ Jimin mumbled as he led Yoongi back to the couch. Crouching down in front of him as Yoongi lowered himself on the couch again. Jimin carefully grabbed the older boy’s shaking hands.
‘I, I hurt people before. But I never killed anyone. Tonight was my first time.’
Suddenly Yoongi was crying, ‘I’m a monster, Jimin.’
Jimin didn’t know what to do or say as Yoongi repeated his words. ‘I didn’t want to do it, but if I didn’t they’d-’ the last bit of the sentence was replaced by a sob.
Jimin remained silent, nails digging into the skin of Yoongi’s hand.
Yoongi took a deep, shuddery breath, furiously shaking his head. ‘It wasn’t that he didn’t deserve it because he did, it’s just the fact that I did it. You want to know how much they paid me for dragging a blade across his neck?’
‘No, no, I really don’t want to know,’ Jimin scrambled back a little but still didn’t let go of Yoongi’s trembling hands.
‘Let me just tell you that it wasn’t even close to being enough,’ again another chocked sob escaped Yoongi’s lips. He looked up in surprise when Jimin actually laced their fingers together. ‘You -you’re not scared of me?’
The look in Jimin’s eyes was without a doubt one of disappointment, but there was no fear detectable in his stare. ‘You’re not a killer, Yoongi. I refuse to believe you are. You’re not a killer, you have to get out.’
Yoongi cried, silently, as if he was afraid anyone would hear. Jimin felt the strange urge to join him.
Yoongi wasn’t that good of an actor. He was broken, horrified with himself. Somewhere along the timeline of Yoongi’s life, somewhere after Jimin had been erased from it, something had gone terribly wrong.
Jimin so desperately wanted to help Yoongi, wanted him to be alright. Wanted to wrap him up in his arms the way he had done one autumn night when it had been storming outside and Yoongi was afraid of the thunder. But he didn’t, couldn’t.
‘Why,’ Yoongi leaned forward, their foreheads almost touching. He needed to look Jimin in the eyes when the other answered his question, ‘why do you still care so much?’
‘Because it’s you, Yoongi.’
And just for a second Yoongi forgot how incredibly fucked up his life had become and allowed himself to believe that things would actually be okay.
That Jimin was going to magically making everything alright.
That maybe if Jimin would just hold him for a while, all his worries would go away.
But both of them knew it was only wishful thinking, the small pile of Yoongi’s clothing with fresh drops of blood on it next to the couch painfully reminding them.
And that the Yoongi and Jimin from all those years ago were gone.
Replaced by the most beautiful boy Yoongi had ever seen and the most fucked up version of himself Yoongi had ever been.
And you didn’t hug or kiss after so much lost time. You didn’t even cuddle or hold each other in the most innocent way.
Hell, Jimin shouldn’t even have wanted to be near him after Yoongi had confessed he had just killed someone. But yet here he was.
And the way Yoongi’s fingers fit between Jimin’s reminded him that maybe, not everything was completely lost.