Work Text:
この広い僕ら空の下出逢って恋をしていつまでも.
Under this vast sky, we met and fell in love, forever.
- 愛唄 (Love Song) by GReeeeN / whiteeeen
Jimin loves his life.
For one, he’s got his dream job—teaching at a nursery school. Just thinking about it makes him smile. He’s always loved kids, no matter how unruly and messy they can be at times. They were just so small and sweet and innocent, Jimin likes to think that his job is a reprieve from the harsh reality of the world. Secondly, he’s not in any sort of financial stress or trouble. There’s always food on the table, warm clothes on his back, a sturdy roof above his head, and enough extra cash to treat himself sometimes.
Lastly, he has Min Yoongi—sweet, kind, perfect Min Yoongi, whom Jimin had the privilege to call his (if anybody else tried to call Min Yoongi theirs, Jimin would unleash hell, that’s for sure).
Jimin couldn’t—wouldn’t, more like—ask for a better boyfriend than Min Yoongi, because Yoongi was perfect. Of course, Jimin knew that perfection, or the idea of it, was a very abstract notion, close to unreachable and non-existent (Namjoon’s way of thinking was rubbing off on him, he can tell), but Jimin liked to take pride in the fact that he may very well be the first man ever to see a glimpse of it.
They met each other around five years ago. Jimin had been twenty-three, Yoongi twenty-five. Jimin was still a fresh graduate and a newbie at his job, then. Yoongi was a journalist—also starting his job at the same time—and they were both so very new and foreign to it, to the fact that they were working, that they were contributing adults to society. It was an understatement to say that they were so on edge. There was some kind of art program slash fundraising charity at Jimin’s school at the time, and Yoongi had been the unlucky (lucky, Yoongi would say now) fresh meat to have been tasked with covering the event for the local paper.
Jimin and the other teachers had been faring pretty well until one child (specifically, a child in Jimin’s class) tipped a tub of red paint all over her dress and screamed that she was “blooding to death, lord take me”. She had started crying, and then the smaller kids decided it was as good a time as any to start crying, too. The red paint fiasco had been quickly resolved, but later on, hours after the program had ended and the school had closed for the day, Jimin found himself crying inside his classroom, under his teacher’s desk, due to all the stress and first day jitters, and Yoongi had seen him (Jimin always asks him why he had been at the school then, but Yoongi never answers him, always grinning smugly at him in response). He had then crouched down beside him, pulled out his phone, and showed him a YouTube video of dogs and cats failing at everyday things. Jimin snorted through his tears, and when he looked up, Yoongi was smiling at him. From that moment on, Jimin knew he was a goner.
Some days, he thinks he doesn’t deserve any of it. It’s too good of a life, too perfect, and he loves it but sometimes he wonders what he did in his past lives to be lucky enough to have his kind of life. Most days, though, he’s just really thankful—thankful that he still had his job, thankful that he still had food on the table, thankful that he still had clothes on his back, thankful that he still had a roof over his head, and most of all, he was just really, really thankful that he still had Yoongi beside him, who’d always, always wrap him in an embrace every single night, whispering sweet nothings into his ear and kissing him sweetly until he fell asleep.
Jimin’s really thankful.
♥ “Baby, did you eat today?” ♥
It was Saturday, meaning Jimin had no classes.
He loved his kids, but five days straight of seeing them and trying to decipher their drawings (he’s not sure if there has ever been a purple sun in the whole entire history of the world, but one of the kids in his class insisted) sometimes took its toll on him. Weekends were precious to him, mainly because he got to rest on Saturday, and then he had Yoongi all day to himself on Sunday.
Jimin lounged back on the floor, propping his feet up on their couch—a ratty old loveseat that had seen better days (and cleaner, decent days, but Jimin would never tell any of their friends the things that had transpired on their couch, no). He grabbed the remote control off the table, turned the television on, and proceeded to watch some animated shows (he had some catching up to do with Voltron, what). A bowl of grapes sat precariously on his stomach, and soon enough, Jimin felt his eyes drooping.
He’s not sure how long he had been sleeping, but the soft click of their door roused him with a start. He blinked sleepily, frowning confusedly at the overturned bowl of grapes by his feet, and glaring at the television playing a re-run of The Kardashians.
“Jimin-ah? I’m home.”
Yoongi’s deep voice wafted into the room, and Jimin found himself smiling softly. He was still sprawled on the floor, right in front of the couch. The door was situated a few steps away from it, so Yoongi still couldn’t see him (but Yoongi knew he was there—Jimin always found the carpet more comfortable than the couch). Jimin grunted in response, raising his arms and feet to wave them at his boyfriend.
Soft footsteps padded against the floor, and Jimin kept still, waiting. Yoongi’s hands were the first thing he saw, reaching from behind the couch to place his bags and coat on it. His face followed soon after, peeking over the couch and raising an eyebrow at Jimin. A fond smile quirked his lips upwards, slowly and gently. Jimin smiled back, a goofy and dopy smile stretching his lips from ear to ear.
“Welcome home, hyung,” Jimin whispered sleepily, holding his hands up.
Yoongi rolled his eyes, but skirted around the couch, anyways. He knelt down, placing his hands beside Jimin’s head to support himself as he hovered above him. Yoongi smiled down at him, and Jimin grinned, lazily looping his arms around his boyfriend’s neck and gently pulling him down. “What did you do while I was gone?”
Jimin hummed, pulling Yoongi closer and pressing a slow, tender kiss against his lips. Yoongi sighed softly, long fingers finding its way into Jimin’s dark locks. Jimin’s hand moved down to rub Yoongi’s back gently, and the ministrations made Yoongi feel warm and light. “Hmm, I watched Voltron, but I fell asleep. You know, babe, it’s really nice—waking up to you coming home.”
Yoongi carefully adjusted their positions, slipping an arm under Jimin’s neck and rolling over to the side so that they were both on the floor, Jimin nuzzled into his side with his one leg slung over Yoongi’s hips. Jimin wriggled closer, huffing in irritation when he found the tiniest bit of space between them. Yoongi laughed, but indulged him, anyways, wrapping both arms around the younger man and pulling him flush against his body. Jimin hummed contentedly, face buried in the crook of Yoongi’s neck.
“I missed you, hyung.” Jimin’s voice was muffled, but Yoongi heard him, his voice slightly tickling Yoongi’s neck.
“Missed you, too, sunshine. You don’t know how gratifying it is to finally see someone so beautiful after a whole day of seeing nothing but old dudes.”
Jimin laughed, hugging Yoongi tighter and looking up at him. “You’re so cheesy. Speaking of work…baby, did you eat today?”
At this, Yoongi let out a small, “ah”. He tried not to look at Jimin, shrugging his shoulders noncommittally, but four years of being in a relationship had its advantages. Jimin knew Yoongi like the back of his hand already. He sat up, frowning at his boyfriend. Yoongi blinked innocently at him.
“Hyung.”
“What?”
“Min Yoongi. Did you eat today? Anything?”
Yoongi sat up, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. He reached out and laced his fingers with Jimin’s. “…is coffee counted under ‘anything’?”
Jimin groaned, hitting Yoongi’s shoulder hard enough that Yoongi actually winced, looking at Jimin with an expression like a kicked puppy. “Tsk. Stay right there! I’ll cook something. Ugh, I swear, without me you’d be dead, hyung.”
Jimin pushed himself up, still grumbling under his breath as he headed to their small kitchen to whip something up. Honestly, Yoongi had a habit of getting too absorbed in his work, he sometimes foregoes eating just so he can continue working. As Jimin pulled out a pan and turned the stove on, he heard Yoongi approach him. Arms soon wrapped around him from the back, Yoongi resting his chin on his shoulder and kissing his jaw softly. Jimin melted into his touch on reflex.
“…seriously, hyung. Don’t skip your meals. You’ll fall sick.” He glanced at Yoongi reproachfully, a pout on his lips. “I’ll worry.”
Yoongi laughed lightly, nodding his head and mumbling apologies against Jimin’s skin. He pulled Jimin closer against him but not too much so that he could still cook with ease. “Jimin?”
“Hm?”
“I love you.”
♥ “You’re the first person I told.” ♥
Yoongi was ecstatic, and it took him everything he had to not punch the air in victory as he drove home, but not yet, he didn’t even want to shout about it to the heavens. He needed to tell Jimin first.
As he pulled into the parking lot of their apartment building, he quickly parked their car with ease. He took his keycard out as he rode the elevator up, and even inside the elevator, he couldn’t keep his feet from tapping a quick rhythm.
He almost ran through the hallway, and fumbled with their keycard, but he doesn’t care. As soon as he stepped in, he closed the door behind him and kicked off his shoes. Jimin was standing in the middle of the living room, phone pressed against his ear. He had his professional smile on, and Yoongi could tell he was conversing with a parent of one of the kids at school.
Yoongi walked over to him, Jimin smiling at him distractedly and gesturing towards the kitchen (probably something about dinner already being ready). Yoongi doesn’t care. Instead, he closed the distance between them and engulfed Jimin in a hug, careful enough not to jostle the phone away from his ear. Jimin glanced at him questioningly, but let him nuzzle him, anyways.
The phone conversation went on for five more minutes, before Jimin finally put down his phone, chucked it towards the couch, and looped his arms around Yoongi’s neck. He smiled at him sweetly, and Yoongi felt his insides get even warmer.
“What’s got you so happy, babe?” Jimin’s fingers plucked lazily at Yoongi’s brown hair, and he giggled softly when Yoongi nuzzled his cheek.
“I have good news, sunshine.”
“Oh?”
Yoongi pulled away to look at Jimin. “I’m getting promoted. The company’s raising my salary, and they’re going to let me try and cover foreign affairs.”
Jimin’s eyes widened, and he lunged forward, jumping and tightening his arms around Yoongi. He pulled back to cup Yoongi’s face, peppering him with kisses on his cheeks, on his lips, and Yoongi could only laugh, hands on Jimin’s hips to keep him from tipping off balance. “Oh, I’m so proud of you, Yoongi-hyung! I have the coolest boyfriend in the world! Oh, baby, I’m really, really proud of you!”
“You’re the first person I told, by the way,” Yoongi added softly, gazing at Jimin with such fondness that Jimin calmed down a bit, a deep blush creeping into his cheeks.
Jimin leaned forward to kiss him, this time in a much sweeter and slower manner. “I’m honored.”
♥ “I’ve got to kiss you before you leave.” ♥
It was a school holiday, and Jimin had decided to sleep in. He could hear Yoongi flitting around the room preparing to leave for work. As much as he wanted to sit up and at least talk to his boyfriend, he was just so tired. It had been the school’s sports festival event the previous day, and although Jimin didn’t participate in any sports event, running after the kids was already one in and of itself.
Still, despite being tired, he managed to crack his eyes open, peeking over his blanket and spotting Yoongi fixing his necktie in front of the mirror in their bedroom. Yoongi noticed him in the reflection, and he quickly turned around with a sheepish apologetic grin at Jimin.
“Sorry, baby. Did I wake you?” Yoongi whispered, and Jimin just watched him sleepily, briefly admiring how Yoongi looked really good in a suit.
After a moment, Jimin mumbled sleepily. “Hm, no. S’kay, hyung. I just…could you c’mere for a ‘sec?”
Yoongi tugged on his necktie one last time before indulging Jimin, walking over and standing beside him. Jimin pushed one hand out of the blanket, gestured with his fingers for Yoongi to come closer. The older man leaned down, his eyebrows raised in question.
Jimin reached his hand out fully, letting his fingers wrap around the back of Yoongi’s neck. He pulled him down, and pressed their lips together. He felt Yoongi smile under the kiss, the older man placing a hand beside Jimin and reciprocating the kiss.
When Yoongi finally pulled away, Jimin smiled up at him sleepily, eyes already half-closed. “I’ve got to kiss you before you leave, or else you won’t have good luck. Take care, ‘kay?”
Yoongi reached down to ruffle Jimin’s hair, before gently tucking him into bed. He kissed him one last time, murmuring an “I love you”, before standing by the door and watching the younger man fall back to sleep, and finally leaving for work.
♥ “I noticed that you needed this, so I got it for you.” ♥
“Sorry, but I’m in a relationship. I’m flattered, though.”
The girl behind the counter visibly flushed red, apologizing profusely before haphazardly ripping off the cup sleeve off Yoongi’s cup (she had written a very original pick-up line next to her number, and Yoongi wanted to commend her on her creativity). She apologized again before running to the back of the coffee shop. Yoongi shrugged his shoulders, before taking his cup and sitting back at his table with Jimin.
Jimin was frowning, glaring at the general direction of the cash register. Oh, boy. Yoongi reached a hand out, placing his hand over Jimin’s small one and letting his thumb run soothing circles on his skin. “Hey, Jimin, you’ll give that girl a heart attack, relax. I’m still here.”
“They keep on hitting on you, hyung.” Jimin turned to him, then. He was pouting, and Yoongi had to stop himself from gushing over Jimin because one thing Jimin hated was when Yoongi didn’t take him seriously. “You’re mine, can’t they see that?”
Yoongi pretends that his heart didn’t flutter at Jimin’s words. He shrugged his shoulders instead, taking a sip from his cup. “Well, it’s not like I have a tag that says ‘property of Park Jimin’. Come on, sunshine, let it go. You’re the one I love, not them.”
Jimin huffed softly, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared glumly at the green tea Frappucino in front of him. He pushed it back a little, clearly not interested in something that the girl earlier had made. Yoongi found it too cute. Jimin was just too cute for his own good.
“Uhm.”
Jimin grinned at him excitedly, his legs dangling and swaying around as he sat on their dining table. Yoongi just kept on staring at the item in his hand.
“…am I supposed to wear this, Jimin?” He asked, just for clarification, and Jimin rolled his eyes.
He jumped off the desk and walked over to Yoongi, quickly tugging the hem of Yoongi’s sweatshirt and starting to pull it up, helping him take it off. If it was under any other circumstance, Yoongi would have pushed Jimin towards their bedroom in the blink of an eye, but alas, it wasn’t, and Yoongi was just really confused.
“Of course, you’re supposed to wear it, babe. It’s a sweater—and I have one, too, so we can match!” Jimin supplied happily, stopping in his Strip Yoongi Operation momentarily to beam brightly up at Yoongi.
Yoongi finds the gesture sweet, if anything, but…he glanced at the sweater clutched in his hand again, and—well, he wasn’t embarrassed about the sweater, but imagining the reactions of their friends (Hoseok and Seokjin, especially, those fuckers) was already making his cheeks flame up in embarrassment.
Jimin seemed to notice, and he stopped moving, his smile faltering slightly as his hands ceased moving, fingers pressing against Yoongi’s bare skin along his waist. “…you don’t like it, do you.”
It wasn’t even a question, and Yoongi already hated himself for viewing Jimin’s honest and sweet gestures as an embarrassment. He shook his head, feeling his heart clench at the pout that was on Jimin’s face, at the frown marring his beautiful face. “No, baby, look, I like it, okay? Just—okay, wait, let me wear it. Wait, please don’t cry—Jimin, baby, don’t cry. I love you, okay? Hyung likes it.”
All throughout his words, Yoongi had already pulled off his shirt, slipping awkwardly into his new sweater. He ran his hands all over it, trying to fix any creases before patting his own hair down to tame it. Jimin just watched him curiously, the frown on his face already gone. “Well?”
Jimin shrugged, before closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s middle, burying his face on his chest. He sighed deeply, and Yoongi hugged him back, pressing a kiss on the crown of Jimin’s head. In all honesty, the sweater felt nice, and well—the design was cute. Endearing, really.
Jimin wriggled a bit, pulling away to look at Yoongi, his hand falling on the breast-pocket of the sweater. His fingers ran along the message sewn onto the material, a blush adorning his cheeks. “I just…I noticed you needed this, so I got it for you.”
Yoongi just about melted right then and there, remembering how Jimin always got so annoyed when people kept on hitting on him.
Embroidered neatly on the breast pocket of Yoongi’s new sweater were the words, “Property of Park Jimin”. Jimin was just too cute, really. (On Jimin’s sweater, it was, “Property of Min Yoongi”).
♥ “We’re not going to bed ‘til we’ve made up.” ♥
They don’t really fight, but when they did, it was usually about something small, but still not enough to make either one of them explode. Sometimes, Jimin would forget to cap the toothpaste tube. Sometimes, Yoongi left too many cookie crumbs on the coffee table. Sometimes, one of them messed up the laundry and ruined a shirt or a pair of pants for good. This time, though, it was different.
“Jimin, listen to me, please.”
“Fuck off, hyung.”
The words stung, because Jimin rarely cursed, and when he did, it was either because 1) they were in bed and Yoongi was being extra rough, or 2) when he was super mad (the first and last time had been ages ago, when they were still dating and Yoongi’s ex-girlfriend had appeared out of thin air to try and woo Yoongi back). So when Jimin did curse, and it wasn’t because of reason number one, Yoongi was terrified.
Jimin walked on ahead of him, fingers curled into tight fists that Yoongi was afraid he’d make his palms bleed. They didn’t have their car that day, so they rode the bus back to their building. Plenty of times, Yoongi tried to hold Jimin’s hand, maybe to try and ease his anger, but Jimin actually slapped his hand away and moved two seats away from him, garnering them some unwanted attention. Yoongi sighed, leaning away and trying to keep his cool.
He had no right to get furious, to be honest. He was just trying to keep his cool so that he wouldn’t explode, because he was so mad at himself. Yoongi had a list, you see, of the things that he never wanted to do. On the top, written in imaginary bold marker and underlined thickly was, “Hurt Jimin/Make Jimin cry”, and if he was going to be honest, he thinks he’s fucked up royally this time enough to say that he just crossed off the number one item on that list.
The bus screeched to a halt, and Yoongi had to stumble out of the bus and sprint a bit to catch up with Jimin. Yoongi was a tiny bit relieved to see that Jimin wasn’t mad enough, or was human enough, to not leave him outside their building (Yoongi’s keycard was still missing). Jimin punched the elevator button angrily, stomping inside and jabbing his finger on the ninth floor. Yoongi stayed quiet, hands in his pockets. The doors dinged open, and Jimin stormed out, walking to their unit and unlocking the door. He slammed it open, the door loudly crashing against the wall. Yoongi winced.
“…Jimin, please.”
Jimin whirled around, his face alarmingly red and his eyebrows scrunched together. “Fucking stop, hyung. I don’t want to hear it.”
Yoongi sighed again, locking the door behind him. He leaned against it, pulling up his hand to rub it against his face.
“…I’m sorry, baby. I really am.”
Jimin sighed, tired and exasperated. He headed to their bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Yoongi heard the audible click of the lock, and his shoulders slumped. It’s been a while since he slept without Jimin in his arms.
Night fell too quickly, and Jimin still didn’t leave their room.
Yoongi had whipped up Jimin’s favorite kimchi jjigae in the hopes of appeasing his boyfriend, and had tried knocking on the door softly, asking him to come out and talk like adults, but instead of something flying at the door that Yoongi expected, silence answered him.
It wasn’t until it was eleven in the evening that Yoongi decided to try again. He really was sorry. He didn’t mean to do what he did.
“Jiminnie. Please talk to me.”
A sob. Yoongi’s heart clenched painfully. Jimin was crying—because of him.
He knocked again, feeling a lump forming in his throat. “Jimin-ah, hyung’s sorry. Can we talk?”
Yoongi pressed his forehead against the cool surface of the door, and his eyes widened when the door finally unlocked. He stared at it for a bit, before glancing at the doorknob. He swallowed thickly before turning it open, slowly and carefully.
Jimin looked so small, all curled up into himself in the corner of their room. Yoongi was stuck by the door, unsure if he should even approach Jimin. Jimin heaved another sob, arms wrapping around his knees and Yoongi decided to just go for it. Jimin might lash out, he might punch him (he really had a good arm), but Yoongi doesn’t care. He needs to hold Jimin.
He knelt down beside Jimin, and gently pulled him into his arms. He was met with little resistance, Jimin only trying to push him away weakly before melting into his touch. Yoongi pulled his face up, cupping his boyfriend’s cheeks tenderly, and feeling his own heart break at how broken Jimin looks—eyes puffy, lips chapped and swollen from too much biting, cheeks flushed and glistening with tears.
“Oh, fuck. I’m so sorry, Jimin. Sunshine, I’m sorry. Please stop crying. Please, I’m so sorry,” Yoongi whispered, pulling him in for a crushing hug and feeling Jimin’s small body shake with each sob.
“D-do you have any idea—” Jimin started, voice hoarse and broken. It only made Yoongi that much more guilty. “…I-I was so worried…y-you didn’t come home for a day, I c-couldn’t reach you on your phone, you weren’t at fucking w-work, a-and even Hoseok-hyung and Jungkook didn’t know w-where you were…!”
“I know, baby, I know. I’m sorry. I don’t have any explanations to give. I was stupid. I’m sorry.” Yoongi hugged him tighter, feeling Jimin’s trembling arms snaking around his middle. Jimin’s tears were running down his own skin now, his boyfriend’s face pressed against his neck.
Yoongi adjusted himself, sitting down and pulling Jimin between his legs. Jimin hugged him tighter, pressing his face harder against Yoongi, like he was afraid Yoongi would disappear. Jimin’s next words broke Yoongi, making him feel even shittier because right, how could he fucking forget?
“I-I…hyung, I thought you were dead. I-I thought that somewhere out there, you were lying cold and dead in a fucking ditch and I wouldn’t know, a-and I’d be alone again, and y-you’d be alone wherever dead people go, and…hyung, I thought you left me,” Jimin whispered, fingers digging into Yoongi’s back.
Jimin was having trouble breathing, his sobs racking his body and his emotions too much for him. Yoongi just held him, tight and firm and never letting go. Yoongi’s ass was hurting from the floor, honestly, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was Jimin—crying and broken and helpless because he thought he’d be alone again.
“…baby, I’m so sorry,” Yoongi whispered, pulling away to press his lips against the corner of Jimin’s eyes, his lips coming away wet and salty. He cupped Jimin’s face, using his thumbs to wipe away his tears. Jimin only sobbed harder.
Yoongi leaned forward, pressing kisses all over his face—on his eyelids, on his forehead, on the tip of his nose, on his lips, on his cheeks. With every kiss was a murmured apology, and with every murmured apology, Jimin started calming down. Yoongi gradually moved back, pulling Jimin with him, until they were leaning against the bed. Jimin was still hiccupping, but Yoongi was relieved to see that he didn’t look so broken anymore.
“…I was so worried, Yoongi-hyung,” Jimin whispered again, eyes downcast as Yoongi’s thumbs never stopped caressing his cheeks.
“I know, and I really am sorry…I promise never to go drinking with Jin-hyung ever again,” Yoongi said solemnly, and Jimin’s head snapped up at this.
“He’s your boss, Yoongi! You can’t do that. Besides…I-I didn’t get mad because you went drinking. It’s…you made me worry, and you promised you wouldn’t.” He looped his arms around Yoongi’s neck, pulling himself closer so that he was pressed up against Yoongi, his tearstained face squished against the crook of Yoongi’s neck.
Yoongi wrapped his arms around Jimin’s waist. “Hm, but really—you’re more important to me, Jimin, okay? I—I fucked up, I’m not going to sugarcoat shit. I fucked up. We were out drinking, and shit got too real, and at some point somebody threw my phone down a fucking drain, I don’t know, and we just…we fucking passed out. For a whole day—and I’m sorry. Jimin, I’m sorry. Forgive me, please?”
Jimin audibly pouted, huffing and pulling his legs up and wrapping them around Yoongi like a koala. Yoongi felt something lift off his chest, because Jimin was starting to forgive him. Jimin was always touchy and clingy after their arguments. “No.”
Yoongi just hugged him tighter, bracing himself against the bed and standing up with Jimin in his arms. “Please?”
“I’m still mad at you,” Jimin said softly, but the way he snuggled closer to Yoongi was saying otherwise.
“Baby, we’re not going to bed ‘til we’ve made up, you know.”
“I don’t care.”
Yoongi sat down on the edge of the bed, hands playing idly with the hem of Jimin’s shirt. He carefully slipped his fingers underneath it, tracing Jimin’s smooth skin. His boyfriend sighed softly. “…you know, Seokjin-hyung went streaking.”
Jimin stiffened, and he pulled away a fraction to look at Yoongi. “…he did?”
“Hm. I think Taehyung has video proof…speaking of Taehyung, he went skinny dipping. In a kiddy pool in some house we passed by.”
Something tugged on the corner of Jimin’s lips, and he looked away in an attempt to hide his smile. “…how drunk were you guys? I’m surprised nobody called the cops on you.”
“I’m surprised, too. All I remember vividly is someone trying to hit on me and I shoved my sweater against his face.” Yoongi smiled, pressing his forehead against Jimin’s. Jimin’s legs tightened around his hips.
“…the sweater I gave you? You wore it to your company thing?”
Yoongi smiled, gums and teeth showing and Jimin couldn’t help but smile with him. “Of course. Wouldn’t even dream of not showing my work colleagues how proud I am to be yours, sunshine.”
Jimin rolled his eyes, but he leaned forward anyways, capturing Yoongi’s smile in a kiss. It was messy, and awkward. It tasted salty due to Jimin’s tears, and they both kept on smiling so they really couldn’t get a proper kiss in, but it didn’t matter. It was perfect.
That night, Yoongi will hold Jimin in his arms, the younger man’s face pressed against his chest. Jimin will snuggle closer, and Yoongi will place a kiss on his forehead. When everything is quiet and still, Jimin’s soft whisper will break the silence, and Yoongi will hum in response, pulling Jimin closer even if it was already physically impossible.
“Yoongi-hyung?”
“Hm, sunshine?”
“I love you.”
