Work Text:
It’s that time of the year again. And, no, Yoongi is not talking about Christmas or Valentine’s or, hell, even Black Friday Sale. He is talking about his birthday.
He doesn’t particularly dislike his birthday or attending another person’s party. It is more like—he is not interested in celebrating the day he was born. He simply believes that there are far more important days to celebrate life than this one singular day that is just a regular day for everyone else, except apparently the person who was born that day. Perhaps the only good thing he gets out of his birthdays are the gatherings. Being surrounded by the people he cares about the most.
But if he was given the choice to pick between celebrating and just going through his day like usual, he would say he has no choice. Because he has friends that love to make each and every person in the friend group feel special on their birthday, even if Yoongi always insists that he can live without a celebration.
His phone buzzes in his pocket just as he exits the elevator and into the basement, his blazer draped over the same arm he holds his car keys and a folder of documents. The device is left ignored for a moment to give himself some time to settle in his car. Engine on, soft music playing in low volume. And once he finally turns on the screen, an involuntary sigh makes its way out of his nose in fond exasperation.
—
It’s The Seven Again
Seokjin: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MIN YOONGI
It’s not until Wednesday.
Namjoon: Happy brithday hyung!
Again. Not until Wednesday.
Seokjin: We must implement our mandatory birthday bash.
Hoseok: I saw birthday and i panicked LOLOL i thought i missed another birthday again
Not. Until. Wednesday. :)
Taehyung: HAPPYEBIRTHAy HYUNG!!!!!!
Jungkook: happy birthday grandpa
Sigh.
Seokjin: My kitten is getting old :(((((((((
Not your kitten. Not old.
Namjoon: So the party? I’ll just say it now but I won’t be available on Wednesday. I have an important meeting to attend. I’m sorry hyung :(
Seokjin: And that is why THE PARTY WILL BE ON SATURDAY so that everybody’s present
Taehyung: i’m in~
Jungkook: are we sure it’s everybody
Namjoon: Saturday sounds good!
Hoseok: I’m in! But I’ll be busy until 5pm ueueueue
Seokjin: Shut up Jeon Jungkook.
Seokjin: Yoongi’s place. 6pm. @everyone must attend!
Not even a heads up???
Hello???
Brats.
—
He huffs out a laugh at their antics, shaking his head with a small smile on his face. But as he reads their recent chats again, he cannot help but notice one name missing from the conversation. Jimin.
Friend groups as big as theirs can become a little complicated in terms of individual relationships and dynamics. Other people may find it odd because how could some people be in the same friend group, but are awkward around each other when alone? Yet Yoongi thinks it is normal. Some people just don’t end up clicking the same way they do with the others in the group, and that is okay. As long as he and that friend do not have any animosities going on, then the group will be fine.
That person to him is Jimin. They both met the same day he was introduced to Jungkook, both of them being best friends already. But he just never really clicked with Jimin the same, easy and quick way he did with Jungkook. And it’s not like it goes the same for their last addition to the group, Taehyung, because they both instantly hit it off the first time they sat alone in one of the campus canteen’s benches waiting for the others to arrive. So there really isn’t much excuse and reason for his and Jimin’s distance—they just don’t click.
His lack of connection with Jimin was proven one time when they all hung out at Namjoon’s home. The others were busy helping around the kitchen, some just annoying their host’s mother, and because there were too many hands helping already, Yoongi and Jimin had stayed behind in the living room. It was… to put it bluntly, awkward as fuck. They exchanged a few quick words of ‘how are you’s before they resigned to drowning their thumbs on scrolling mindlessly through their little iphone 5’s—the trendy phone at that time.
Nonetheless, even if they are not as close as they are with the others in the group, it does not make Yoongi care any less for the boy. He did not spend nine years with the complete circle to just not understand their unique, individual characters. There have been plenty of cases that taking care of Jimin was due, more often than not during exam seasons, so the hyungs would take turns taking care of their dongsaengs. And while Yoongi didn’t actively participate with Jimin—like visiting his dorm or following him around campus to make sure he’s okay—he never failed to have medicines, masks, coffee, takeout, and homemade food delivered to him. As well as checking in on him from time to time whenever they pass by, or message in the group chat.
His care is not one-sided as well, as it is returned with equal subtleness. Yoongi cannot exactly pinpoint those moments, but he notices it happening quite frequently on his birthdays. Because for the nine years he spent being Jimin’s quiet friend, he came to learn that Park Jimin loves birthdays. There has never been a single birthday where the younger is not present. For nine years without fail, Park Jimin would attend every single one of their birthday parties with a personalized gift at a ready. And for Yoongi, always beyond his expectations, those gifts always suited him.
The first time he celebrated his birthday with the presence of their new dongsaengs, he had not anticipated receiving gifts, most especially from Jimin. But no. The boy walked into McDonald’s holding a neatly wrapped box that contained an expensive set of oil paints that Yoongi had eyed on every time he passed by the art store. And ever since then, the boy would continue surpassing expectations every year.
Yoongi returns the same level of gift-giving of course.
It’s not the closest friendship for two people in the same circle, and although they don’t click, they still have a perfectly healthy dynamic and relationship that is unique to them. Just like how they have one with the others.
But his point is—that’s why he is surprised to see the lack of a Jimin in the group chat. He thought the other would jump in on the joke and greet him early as well, but there’s nothing. Not even a read receipt. It’s odd, especially when it’s already past everyone’s working hours. However, he lets it go in the end and finally drives home. They both have no drama going on, so the younger is probably just busy. At least, that’s what Yoongi hopes it is.
Days pass in a blink of an eye, and before Yoongi knows it, it’s already Wednesday. His birthday. He woke up that morning with his notifications an endless scroll in his lockscreen, but he didn’t check them yet in favor of getting ready for work, and only individually replied to the greetings at lunch. Aside from the numerous ‘happy birthday’s, the only other intriguing part of his day was when his coworkers threw him a little party in the pantry. They set up a little decor around the room, sang him the birthday song, and bought a cake good for everyone in their department with some tubs of ice cream. Other than that, he was drowned in work.
Yoongi clocks out by 5 PM, like usual, but instead of directly driving home, he stops by a family-run restaurant near his building to buy takeout lamb skewers, fried chicken, and seaweed soup. Which took quite some time to cook. He could have made these himself, but he feels like lazing his night away. It’s his birthday after all—most people would do the same.
Once inside his home, he sets up the dining table, takes a long shower, set up some soft music in the background, then settles himself down to finally eat his well-deserved dinner. However, before he dives in he snaps a quick photo first, writing a quick caption in his family GC as a little update, but just as he hits the ‘send’ button, the sound of his doorbell ringing interrupts his moment and the music.
Yoongi glances at the wall clock. It’s 7 PM. Was I supposed to be expecting anyone? He thinks as he gets up and makes his way to the front door. And when he checks the intercom monitor, his eyebrows instantly rise up to his hairline at the same time his heart beats in heavy stutters at what he sees.
There behind the door stands Park Jimin, wearing his work suit with his jacket over his arm, one hand holding a box of what looks like to be a cake, and a neatly wrapped present on the other. He notices the gentle way Jimin’s chest rises and falls in short intervals, his slicked back hair slightly undone as if swept back by the air, and most of all, the apparent circles around his eyes.
Jimin… he’s really here.
He gets snapped out of his daze when there’s a knocking sound this time, and his chest squeezes at the apprehensive look on his face. So Yoongi finally opens the door.
The change in Jimin’s demeanor is instant. From looking anxiously exhausted to excited and joyful. And Yoongi can’t help but feel like he’s only seeing a mask. Had he not seen the other on the screen just now, he would not have known—and that thought somehow drops his heart to his stomach.
"Happy birthday, Hyung!" Jimin greets with a blinding smile on his face, one that’s quickly replaced with a pout as quickly as it came. "I'm so sorry I'm late. There were plenty of tasks that I had to complete, and it held me up, and it was due today so I had to do overtime. But, still, I managed to stop by and get us something. Have you all eaten?" The younger spoke in a rush uncertainty lacing his voice.
So it turns out that he did see the messages. Yet—"Jimin-ah... Thank you. Did you not see the GC?" Yoongi asks worriedly. He is sure that Seokjin made it clear the party was on Saturday.
Immediately, Jimin’s face and shoulders drop. "Wha-what? Why? What happened?"
"We moved the party to Saturday. Everyone's busy with work—we chatted the other night. You didn't see it?"
Jimin’s eyes widened as he gasps. "No! I was very exhausted. Everyday's exhausting actually—"
"You should've just went home then, it's very late," Yoongi lightly chides, but quickly regrets it upon realizing he sounds ungrateful. With wide, regretful eyes, he hastily adds, "Not that I'm not grateful you're here! I just think you should've put yourself first." Because for the years he’s come to learn the way Jimin is, he knows the extent of selflessness the boy has—and it’s far beyond one’s imagination. It’s to a point that, even if he has no place to say it, Yoongi wishes Jimin would just be a little selfish for once.
"I wouldn't miss your birthday, hyung—yours and the guys, I mean," says the younger softly, the corners of his smile lifting up just a bit in a reassuring smile.
"Well, since you're here already, come on in." Yoongi steps aside.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Jimin finally steps inside, and he carefully toes off his shoes.
"What do you have there?" Yoongi asks as he motions to take the things occupying the younger’s hand.
"I brought you a cake from the Crystal Snow bakery. It's orange and chocolate flavored."
"That's..." He blinks. How does Jimin know that? Both his favorite bakery and flavor? However, despite his curiosity, Yoongi lets it go and gives him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Jimin." And his gratitude makes the boy beam.
"You're welcome, hyung!" Then, he points at the other box in Yoongi’s hand, the gift. "I-I also got you a present!"
Of course. Yoongi wonders what it is this time. He still remembers all of the gifts Jimin has given him so far—in chronological order. They are just that memorable and twice as important. The oil paints, a portrait he commissioned from his friend, a pair of shoes, brand new headphones, an expensive fountain pen, tickets to an art exhibition he missed to purchase, blue label whiskey, and a chic black leather jacket that he uses every time he goes out regardless of the weather.
They are all great gifts that he still treasures today, and he's excited what the next big thing he will add to that collection is.
"Thank you.” He tilts his head to the side, gesturing vaguely to somewhere in the unit. “Let me take these to the kitchen. Leave your things in the living room and come after me. Let’s eat dinner together.”
Jimin's eyes widened. “O-oh, you haven't eaten yet?”
“No, I just set up the table, I bought takeout—and don’t worry!” Yoongi quickly adds once he sees Jimin shot to protest. “I bought extra… supposedly for leftovers tomorrow, but I don't mind. Let's finish everything.”
There is still a little hesitation, but in the end, the younger concedes and nods his head. “Okay, hyung.”
As Yoongi sets up the dining, his mind becomes occupied with the thoughts of how this night is going to play. If it would be awkward the entire time, if they simply eat in silence then eat the cake before Jimin leaves, or if this would open a new stage in their friendship. That maybe this would be an opportunity for them to bond and become the friends he once hoped they’d become.
And as he puts down a second set of plate and utensils with a slight tremble, he would only notice then that he is nervous. Very much so. Because despite having accepted the civility of their relationship, he’s always hoped every time they meet that something would change between them—for the better. That opportunity is just lying in front of his eyes, and now it’s up to him if he would take it or leave it, and continue on living their separate lives, still awkward and distant a decade later in their friendship.
You can do this, Yoongi. Baby steps. You two have all night—or not because it’s a weekday. You only have three hours max.
With a final exhale, he forces his nerves to settle, and then clears his throat just in time for Jimin to enter.
“This looks good.” The boy grins, sitting down when Yoongi gestures to the seat across from his.
“I took a photo so I plated everything nicely,” he easily confesses, smiling sheepishly.
“Sorry for interrupting your photo shoot session.”
“It's no problem, I was just about to send the photo to my family.” He remembers just as he says that, and he quietly excuses the usage of his phone to do just what he said, to which Jimin quickly says a small assurance that it’s fine.
“Well then, thank you, hyung,” says Jimin as soon as Yoongi puts down his phone.
“You're welcome, Jimin-ah.”
They begin eating, the only sounds in the apartment being the clinks of utensils against porcelain plates and quiet chewing. The silence is loud in the sense that neither of them speak except the chatter of their utensils. Yoongi becomes conscious of the way he chews because of this. Is he too loud? Is his spoon is hitting the plate too loud? Or—heck, is he even chewing his food right?
He is never like this around the others, even when Jimin is there. Perhaps it has to do with them not being close that he feels this way—though he tries to convince himself it is the case because how else could he explain this?
Yoongi tentatively peeks up at the other from under his lashes, his hand pausing mid-scoop of his soup. Jimin looks… well, Jimin. He has eaten with him for nine years, and he’s never seen the younger’s eating habits change. Still quiet chews, quiet slurps, perfect posture, elbows off the table, head never ducking to meet the food as he feeds himself. Park Jimin is elegant as ever. The only difference he sees now is the lack of conversation.
Jimin loves talking while he eats.
“So, um…” Yoongi straightens his back, his posture almost immediately faltering once they lock eyes. Somehow, like this, Jimin looks more intimidating than Seokjin when he’s giving a ‘hyung’ talk. But this is now or never—he must take this chance to properly connect with the younger. So he decides to settle on a basic question: “How was your day?”
Thankfully, there is no judgment in Jimin’s eyes as he chuckles softly—no, awkwardly. “I should be asking you that, given that you're the birthday boy.” He smiles, and Yoongi shakes his head dismissively with a huff.
“I’d rather talk about your day, really. Mine was mundane, just work.”
“Mine, too.”
“You said your days are always exhausting… Why?” Yoongi leans back in his seat, giving the other his full attention. And then his eyes catch it, the way Jimin’s fingers fiddle with his chopsticks, the way they turn white as he squeezes them a little too hard. He recognizes nervousness on the younger when he sees it.
“I really don't know…” Jimin trails off. “My work is always loaded. Every time I think I’m done with something, another task suddenly comes in and I don't get to breathe.”
The boy’s tone is light and shrugging, as if it was nothing, but Yoongi still frowns in genuine concern. “That's very taxing. Do you at least actually rest on breaks?”
“I can't. Deadlines and such.”
“Don’t you have a team?”
“There's only five of us, and the amount of load requires ten. We’re practically understaffed. It doesn't help that three or sometimes even four would take random absences and leaves in the middle of the week.”
“So you're basically working by yourself at those times.”
“Yes.”
An involuntary sigh falls off his lips. Jimin is way too nice for the corporate world. He does not think the boy is a pushover—he’s quite confident that the latter can put up a good fight in setting boundaries. But what he doesn’t appreciate is the way that people take advantage of his friend’s work ethics and the genuine care he puts in. Yoongi’s witnessed this way too many times in the past, but he never had the heart to feel like it was his place to raise the concern. And, sometimes, he feels helpless and useless that he cannot. But at least Jimin has the others to voice it out and tell him when it becomes too far.
Not knowing what else to say, Yoongi decides to settle with gratitude. “Thank you for coming here despite your exhaustion, Jimin. I really do appreciate it. You work ten times more than other people do, you’re amazing, and you deserve, well, everything good the universe has to offer.”
Jimin’s eyebrow shoot up at his words, and it’s clear he had not expected that to come from Yoongi. “I try…” He mutters. “I’m glad I came today, though. It's a great way to unwind—being with friends.”
Yoongi sighs again, in relief this time. “Right—I can agree with that. Even if it's hard to believe, I’m actually always appreciative to have you guys around even if I’m dead on my feet and look like I want one month of isolation.”
His little confession makes the boy’s eyes round in surprise, probably having not expected that again. However, instead of bringing it up, he says, “It does look like that!” He now looks excited, more engaged in the conversation. This is what Yoongi was looking for—this is what Jimin enjoys.
“Yeah, well, I always tolerate all of you guys’ presence,” he jokes and Jimin laughs, joining in on the joke, saying, “I don't know about them, but I do, too.”
Their little progress blooms something warm in Yoongi’s chest—something hopeful, something… new.
He takes his glass of water and puts it up the center. “Cheers.”
“Cheers!” And then their glasses clink.
The atmosphere has significantly changed from it, and Yoongi now braves to open a new topic as he leans forward slightly then says in a low voice, “I don’t know if this is weird to bring up, but I dunno why we never hang out like this.”Not cautious or accusing, just honest.
“Hm?” Jimin tilts his head to the side, then appears to think deeply for a moment.
“Like, you know, just you and me.” Yoongi leans back into his seat, now speaking in normal volume. “I noticed that we're never really… alone together. We’re always around each other if the others are.” That one time at Namjoon’s home did not count since it was primarily a group hang out.
“You're right.” Jimin nods in agreement. “I don't know as well—though I must confess that I always thought you were too cool to approach, so.”
If he were drinking or eating right now, he would have embarrassed himself by spitting out the contents, because—“Me? Cool? Please.” He scoffs.
This time, it’s Jimin who now braves to lift up the conversation. “Seriously! I’m not joking!” He exclaims with a grin, the same way he does when he defends his claim that Jungkook would teasingly debunk or dismiss.
“Right—” Yoongi scoffs with a smile, still not believing him. He always thought he was the quiet guy in college who tried to act cool just because he’s a senior in college, and he had a friend group that consisted of popular sophomores who seemed unreachable. So, really, focus on the word tried. Because he is now 33 years old who now knows that how he acted was quite immature for someone in their mid-twenties.
“Ever since we were introduced back in college, I always wondered how I ended up in a friend group filled with cool guys. I felt so out of place.” Jimin chuckles at his own statement, and Yoongi could only stare at him dumbly with a gaping mouth. It’s just so hard to believe!
“Seokjin was a loser, and so was Namjoon and Hobi.” He pauses, then adds in a deadpan, “So was I.” And it has Jimin laughing again.
The four of them were indeed quite losers if he now looks back on it, especially with how today’s generation considers someone cool. And applying those—they were simply not. Well, even during their time, they weren’t cool. Seokjin wore preppy clothes and told dad-jokes every chance he got, Namjoon was the Disney definition of a nerd, Hoseok—well Hobi was admittedly cool because of his hip-hop dance classes so he’s excempted, and Yoongi is the wannabe bad boy who’s all cold and nonchalant wearing dark clothes, but is actually an architecture nerd who loves girl group music.
So, really, there is nothing cool about the three of them—again, Hobi is an exception.
“I swear, you were cool!” Jimin straightens up and leans closer, now clearly invested and excited with the way his eyes light up. “Maybe it has to do with the fact that you guys were our seniors and we were just sophomores?”
“Maybe.” Yoongi grins. They were definitely immature back then if both of their definitions of cool are those.
“But you guys are still very much cool in my eyes, hyung.” Jimin looks down at the table and smiles a little wider, but his cheeks tint a pretty rose color as he whispers, “Especially you.”
It’s only right if Yoongi chokes right now. But he clears his throat instead, then looks down at the table as well to admit something similar—rather shyly, actually. “I must also confess, then, that I also wondered how someone like you could end up in our nerdy friend group.”
Jimin gasps. “What?! Me? Like how?”
“Like, you know, someone who’s actually popular. You were very known in college because of your extra curricular. You were very active, so everyone knew you.” And he is being honest—because it is true! Jimin’s always been labeled as the popular kid in college, and that says a lot considering the size of their campus. Everywhere the boy went, a student or two, hell—even a whole friend group, would come up to Jimin, and they would all talk like they were best friends. It was amusing to witness every single time.
“I suppose that’s true.” The younger giggles, and Yoongi cannot stop the way his heart stutters at the sound. He’s actually making progress here—Jimin is having fun even if it’s just the two of them. That is all he could ever ask for.
“And us? Your so-called seniors? We were just surviving college together. Except for Joon, he’s an ace. But generally speaking, the four of us were very inactive with extra curricular activities.”
“I think you guys were still somewhat known, though!”
“What do you mean?”
“I always hear people whispering among their friends describing you or the others.” Jimin’s grin turns teasing then, and he lowers his voice as if gossiping. And it’s very adorable. “A lot of people had crushes on you guys because, I must admit, all of you are good looking. Your faces definitely caught some attentions. I think only a few actually knew your names.”
Oh! That was unexpected.
“Really?” Yoongi’s eyes are probably on the verge of falling out of his eye sockets. If it was Seokjin, that would’ve been understandable—but him included? There’s just no way! “Damn, didn't know,” he settles to say, not really sure how he should respond to that.
And it’s not like it is something he regrets not knowing about because even during college, he was never too interested in finding a partner, even if he’s had a few over the years. Never long lasting, never his constant, never felt right. His last ex was two years ago, and they only lasted a year. So, really, whether he knew some people were interested in him back then or not, it would have not made a difference today.
“So, yeah, that's why my thoughts were still very much valid.”
“I guess.” Yoongi smiles. “Mine, too. You were indeed popular.”
“I can't believe it's these thoughts that held us back from actually getting to know each other. It’s been nine years!”
They both share a laugh, and Yoongi couldn’t stop himself from saying, “I like to think I know you, though.”
At that, Jimin’s interest is once again caught. “Really?”
Their meals at this point are now forgotten.
“Yeah.” He shrugs. “You prefer red wine over champagne. You prefer cocktails over beers. Your nose is very sensitive to scents, but you like citrus-y scents. You don't like the mango fruit, but you like mango flavored drinks and candies. You prefer white chocolate over milk chocolate. You rub just below your nose when you're feeling awkward… you cry when you’re angry.”
Yoongi could go on, but he fears it would take them until tomorrow. He just thinks there’s so much to learn about Jimin, to try and gauge out of him. Nine years of quiet friendship has led Yoongi to learn Jimin in various ways, like listening closely to the stories and tidbits he shares with the others, reading the texts and between the lines on his diary esque Instagram posts, observing his actions and habits around the others, hearing stories from others’ times spent with him—being present around him.
And maybe it’s a bit too much, maybe it’s not the length someone feels the need to go through for a friend. Because it indeed isn’t. Because it’s been a year since he found out that his interest towards Jimin is not as simple as wanting to be a close friend. That he’s grown fond of Jimin in a way that his heart beats in a pattern only for him.
“You know a lot…” There is amazement in the younger’s voice and face.
“I notice some things. They’ve become a pattern, that’s why.” Yoongi looks away with another shrug, and resists his legs from bouncing under the table. “Include the childhood stories you talk about during group hangouts. Those were cu—fun, especially that time you went to the police to return a coin you saw on the street when you were four.”
“What?! I shared that?!”
He grins and meets Jimin’s eyes. “You did! When we were eating dinner after Seokjin-hyung’s graduation.”
“You remembered that…”
“Of course, it was very… funny.” Very adorable, he meant to say, but he thinks they’re not at that level yet—or he’s just not ready to say it out loud yet.
“Well, I think I know a little about you, too!”
Yoongi’s eyebrow raises at that, then he shifts to a more comfortable position in his seat as he crosses his arms. “Yeah? Why don't you try?” He challenges.
“My pleasure.” Jimin bows dramatically in his place. “Your face doesn't show it, but you actually enjoy cute things! I’ve noticed the little trinkets you buy when we all go out, and they're always the cutest characters ever. You also love vibrant colors, but your personal taste when incorporating it to your daily life are cream colors and dark shades. You get random bursts of energy, especially with Hobi-hyung—you can get really playful and run around with him, sometimes Jungkook.”
“That’s a very weird one, but true. I dunno why it happens.” He scrunches his nose, earning himself another laugh from the younger.
“It just does. And it’s very funny every single time.” Then Jimin pauses to think, even putting on a cute show of puckering his lips and rubbing his chin. When he finally has another example, he says, “You don’t really share a lot of your personal life.”
That has Yoongi’s eyebrows furrowing. He’s quite positive that he does talk a decent amount bout his personal life. In fact, he is very open with everyone about his whereabouts—at least he thinks he is. Until Jimin said that. “I don’t?”
“Like, you talk about your recent and current problems, what you're up to lately and whatever, but you never mentioned little stories.”
Yoongi pouts. “I don’t think I’m following.”
“You talk about your family—our parents know each of the guys, yeah, but I never heard you talk about the little things you did in your childhood. Friends, little interests, life-changing moments, core memories—the intimate things.”
“I don’t?”
“The other guys and I share those with each other all the time, but I never hear you talk about those. I think the only ones you’ve ever shared is how you got into architecture, how you found out you were gay… That’s all I can think of now.” Then Jimin’s eyes widened. “But maybe that’s just me, maybe I missed those stories!”
Yoongi shakes his head. “No… you’re right. I don’t think I’ve ever.”
He’s maybe talked about those with Seokjin and Namjoon as they are the only people in the group that he’s been friends with since middle school, then maybe a little with Hoseok when they met during freshman year at college. However, he never thought that anyone else would be interested to hear his life story—most of all Jimin. His quiet friend. “Maybe because I met all of you during college. I’m not the same person as I was before college, I completely changed, and so maybe it felt irrelevant to share those stories.”
Jimin doesn’t press for more and just nods his head in understanding. “I see…”
Yet Yoongi cannot accept that. He reminds himself that this is his only shot at making a deep connection with Jimin that is not just based on surface-level, distant friendship. This is his opportunity to build something with the younger, and he cannot end the progress just there. Not that he expects for something warmer, softer, romantic to bloom between them. He’s just hoping to be close with him the way they both are with the others now that his chance is laid out right in front of him.
“But it’s still a part of me,” he says with a little more determination than he intended to let on. “What do you want to know?”
It has Jimin blinking once, then twice. “Huh?” And he sounds both shocked and confused.
“I’ll tell you anything.”
Jimin gasps with widened eyes. “Hyung, I didn't say that to make you talk—”
“No, I insist. I mean, it's just the past, isn't it? I want you to know me, Jimin-ah.” He truly means it, and he hopes Jimin will not see that special warmth in his eyes, behind his voice, behind his words.
“Wha… okay, I—uhm.” The younger shrugs, still a little lost with the suddenness. “Well, what are you comfortable with sharing?”
“Anything, really.”
“Just tell me the first memory that comes to your mind then. I don’t really know what I want to know.”
Yoongi grins. “Okay, let’s see…” He hums as he wracks his brain for any memories of his childhood, but there is simply too much, most of which sound uninteresting, and he wants to keep Jimin engaged. His brain scans quick, like there’s a little Yoongi in his brain flipping through a million folders per second in his little memory archive. There is some pressure, but he’s determined. And when he finally thinks of one, he perks up in his seat and grins a little sheepishly.
“I really love music, even as a kid, and I would sing gibberish in front of my mom while she was recording, telling her that it’s a song I wrote.”
Jimin snorts, and he must have not meant to do it for the way he hurriedly covers his mouth. “Really?”
Yoongi doesn’t mind though, so he just smiles and nods. “Yeah, I was, like, five. My vocabulary was very limited, so I would just blurt gibberish, really.”
“Oh my god! Does auntie still have the recording?”
The moment Jimin drops that question, Yoongi’s eyes immediately grow huge again, vividly remembering watching the video not too long ago after he curiously stalked his mother’s facebook albums. “Oh, shit—yeah, she does! She posted it on facebook!”
“Hyung!” Jimin gasps, then he gets up, rounding the table to plop on the seat beside Yoongi. “I have to see it!”
“Shit, this is so embarrassing, but yeah, sure.” He takes out his phone and quickly goes hunting. “You guys don't have facebook so I was cool with it. Now I’m fearing the possibility of you making an account just so you could stalk through mom’s posts.”
“Hyung, you're literally giving me the idea right now.”
Yoongi pauses to look up. “Damn it,” he mutters in playful sorrow, earning himself another giggle from Jimin.
It takes a little time for them to find the video as it’s been uploaded way too long ago—since facebook existed, really, and his mother is a facebook manic even today. But still, they eventually find the video when Yoongi belatedly remembers having bookmarked it.
Once he clicks play, regret immediately washes over him.
The background noise comes first, echoing in the entire dining area, then comes his mother’s voice. Her words are unintelligible as she speaks from a distance, then becomes clear when the camera steadies with a little four-year-old Yoongi now sitting obediently in the frame.
Everything about it is ridiculous, from his mother’s persuasive and encouraging words to have him sing again aparrently, his little excited face as he begins singing, and the gibberish lyrics paired with off-tune vocals. And Jimin is just laughing—has been giggling since the moment it began, but he doesn't comment until Yoongi reacted.
“Aughhh!” Yoongi groans in pain, squeezing his eyes shut and using his free hand to cover his face. He’s trying to impress someone and the first thing he does is show them his humiliation ritual.
“Hyung! Oh my god, that’s so cute!” Jimin squeals, pinching his fingers above the screen as if to squeeze toddler-Yoongi's face. “Turn the volume up!”
“No! God, Jimin—stop!” He gasps when the younger reaches forward to increase the volume.
The quick closure of proximity has him inhaling Jimin’s perfume, and he almost chokes on air. It's a seeet citrusy fragrance that reminds him of oranges. Yoongi loves oranges and smelling them on Jimin is making his head spin. Since when did he use that scent?
“Wahhh! You’re so adorable, hyung!” The squeal cuts him out of his thoughts. When he looks at the other, Jimin is cooing and making silly faces at the phone as if toddler-Yoongi could see him. It’s a very adorable sight.
“Jimin!” His head throws back as he laughs, loud and carefree.
“Send me the link!”
“I will if we end this video now.” His voice dangerously tips to the whining side, and he has to quickly collect his bearings to control himself.
“Deal, deal.” Jimin giggles and leans back into his seat. He doesn't go back to his previous chair. “Wow, hyung, that was gold.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Very cute. Loved it so much. Maybe you could've been a musician! In another life?” He snickers.
“Whatever.” Yoongi rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling —quite painfully so, the stretch not stopping. “I should've just told you about, I dunno, my tenth birthday party.”
Jimin perks up again, and he leans his chin on his palm as he looks at him intently with undivided attention, with pure interest. Yoongi’s erratic heartbeats are the only thing he can hear right now.
“Why? What did you guys do?” The younger asks.
“It was one of the best parties a little boy could ever have for their birthday.” He grins proudly. It was one of the most memorable days if his childhood that he often looks back to. “My parents invited a kumamon mascot, and my cake was kumamon, the souvenirs, decor, everything was kumamon.”
Jimin’s hand comes up to his mouth as he giggles softly. Yoongi has now lost count of the times he successfully made the other laugh.
“That’s very cute, hyung.”
“I was jumping around, taking pictures with kumamon every chance I got, and hugged him as much as I could.”
“For how your personality is today, I find it fascinating to imagine you, as a kid, being very hyper and loud.”
Yoongi shrugs. “I guess it took years of hyperactivity to make me the calm person I am today.”
Everyone he knows today may not find it easy to believe, but he never rested as a kid. He was always everywhere socializing with anyone—he made lots of acquaintances, friends, connections, played a lot, joined clubs, extra classes. Kid-Yoongi was everywhere. And he thinks it's because of that, that he is now who he is today. Someone quieter, someone reserved.
It all began during his sophomore year in college—he started wanting to be laid back, take lots of time resting as his classes began to wear him out. Then senior year, when the three dongsaengs came along. He wanted to be a good hyung who can be the anchor to the young ones, someone who can guide them when they feel like everything's falling apart in their studies. Because the four of them did not have that, and he wanted to be that to someone.
He sometimes think he never managed to be the help he always thought he was being, but seeing the three of them succeed and move forward in their careers, having survived the hells of college, is enough to diminish those thoughts.
“Were you hyper as a teen as well?” Jimin asks.
“Worse.” Yoongi snorts. “I became more expressive.”
It pulls a smile from Jimin. “What’d you do?”
“I was very talkative, had a lot of friends and acquaintances. I was very goody-two-shoes as well. Everybody didn't have anything bad to say about me—unless they just hated me, which I minded a lot and had an identity crisis over.”
The boy pouts. “I bet you were really sweet though.”
“How people perceived me back then was up to them.” Maybe he was to some, maybe he wasn’t to others. But those don't matter anymore—he’s grown out of it, and no one’s opinion of him matters anymore. Except Jimin’s it seems.
“Are you still friends with a lot of them?”
“Not so much, but we do greet each other when we pass by on the street or at the mall.”
“That’s good, hyung.”
Yoongi clears his throat and doesn't give space for the conversation to lull. He’s been wanting this for some time now—he can be as greedy as he wants. He wants to hear Jimin’s voice all for himself as much as he can. Just for tonight.
“How about you?” Yoongi asks. “I bet you were the same, just sweeter, kinder.”
Jimin chuckles and doesn't deny it. “I was, but also very strict.”
“Why?”
“I was the president during my junior and senior years. I was strict when it came to discipline and all that.”
“That’s actually cool.” Yoongi can imagine it clearly—adorable teenager Jimin who is very sweet and friendly, but is a leader who strives for greatness in their school government. He wouldn't be surprised if the boy influenced the system for a better change.
“Really?” Jimin asks with a hesitant smile, voice small and uncertain.
“Yeah, you're the president for two years, everyone genuinely liked you if you stayed in that position until you graduated. Very impressive.” Yoongi does his best to lay out his genuineness, so he leans in and says with a serious smile, “Believe me when I say you're a very cool person, Jimin-ah.”
The reaction is priceless. Jimin’s face turns a cute tomato color, and he is quick to puts his hands up his face as he bursts into giggles. “Ah, hyung…” He puts his hands and makes eye contact with Yoongi for a split second before they fall somewhere else. “You’re very cool yourself.”
His giggles, his smiles, his words, his glowing aura—it all squeezes Yoongi’s heart even tighter, makes his fingers twitch where they rest on his lap, to squeeze those adorable cheeks, to cup his face and coo, to brush back those healthy locks of hair, to press on his button nose, to caress his cheeks as he tells him he likes seeing him smile more. And he just barely holds back.
“Thank you,” he settles to say while his hands squeeze into tight fists. The only thing he cannot hold back is the smile on his face that aches his cheeks.
“Tell me more, hyung!”
“About what?”
“You.”
Yoongi lets out a slow breath in an attempt to calm his heart. “Sure.” He’d lose his voice telling his stories, just to see that smile on Jimin’s face.
Time passes unknowingly as they share their memories to their hearts’ content. None of them check the time, they don't bother thinking about it, even as they move to clean up the dining table and move to the living room, bringing with them the cake and the gift—as well as a bottle of wine. They only pause their conversation when the candles are now prettily lit on top of the cake and the flash of Jimin’s camera on Yoongi their only other source of light.
He had told the younger that taking a video was unnecessary, but when Jimin persisted, Yoongi easily let it go. The boy always filmed everyone on their birthdays—he is no exception.
The cake is in the middle of the coffee table while they both sit cross-legged across from each other. It's beautiful, the design Jimin chose, and it fits Yoongi’s style so well. It’s simple. It’s orange sponge cake. It’s chocolate frosting. It’s his—theirs.
Jimin sings the birthday song to him as he records, and Yoongi does the clapping for him. It should be awkward—the feeling is slightly there—but the thought and enthusiasm Jimin has put into this, their little celebration, overpowers everything else. Because this, his birthday spent with the person he came to fall for, the least he expected to spend his birthday alone with, is perfect.
Everything about this birthday is perfect, and he can confidently say that it surpasses all the other birthdays he had. Even his kumamon one.
“Happy birthday, hyung!” Jimin finishes the song with a bright smile on his face that rivals the camera flash. “Blow the candles!”
“Fine,” he sighs in faux annoyance, but it's fruitless by how hard he’s smiling.
After blowing the candles, Jimin turns off the recording and gets up to light up the room again. When he comes back to sit, he now settles beside Yoongi—so close that their knees touch.
“You can now open your gift as well!”
The box from earlier is then placed to his lap, and Jimin does tiny little claps as he waits for him to unwrap it.
“You didn't have to, Jimin-ah.” Yoongi softly caresses the corners, then down the smooth expanse of the top. It’s pristinely wrapped in a metallic blue paper, not a single mistaken crease, not a wrinkle, not a jagged fold. And he appreciates it, the care that has been put into the gift, even down to the wrapper.
He does not take too much time appreciating the outer, not wanting to give Jimin the wrong idea. So he carefully finds each tape and peels them off cleanly. After he takes out the box, he neatly folds the paper and sets it aside. Then finally, he opens the lid.
“Holy shit, a mini scale model of my apartment?” Yoongi wants to cry.
The little creation looks exactly like his apartment down to the littlest details. The warm grey walls, the cream colored furniture, the shelves lined with his favorite records, his home office that’s an organized mess of materials and prints, his bedroom and its minimalist decor of his achievements and memorabilia.
Amazement is an understatement of how he feels, because Park Jimin has replicated his unit perfectly. Because Jimin has only visited his home once, and he managed to do this.
This present surpasses all the others Jimin's given him over the years.
“I started the project since last year because I’m really shit when it comes to crafting.” Jimin chuckles and scoots closer to look down at the model still sitting inside the box. “I hope it looks good enough, Architect Min. You know, I was really praying you wouldn't someday have one.”
“I don’t have one, yeah. Probably the only architect who doesn’t—” Yoongi chuckles to himself, holding back his tears just in time, but his vision still remains blurry. When he looks up, the boy has a gentle look on his face, understanding, and he thankfully doesn't address it. “Jimin-ah, this is very beautiful. Thank you so much.” A simple ‘thank you’ doesn't even feel enough. But it will have to do for now.
“You're welcome, hyung.”
Once his vision has cleared, Yoongi begins to carefully take the model out of the box. He sets it down on the coffee table, then they both lean in to inspect it.
Yoongi loves it. So much. His heart has probably grown in size with how much it is pounding so heavily in his chest. He’s absolutely in love with it.
“You really got every single detail down.”
“I asked for Namjoon-hyung’s help. He took some pics.”
Pics? It all clicks then. A vivid memory of Namjoon visiting him some months ago plays in his mind. The two of them were simply catching up on their lives over some beer when, suddenly, his best friend pulled out his phone and started taking pictures and videos around the unit. As if he was giving a house tour.
“That was for you?!” Yoongi backs away as he laughs. “He said he wanted to sell my unit.”
“Silly hyungs!”
Their conversation does not falter after the cakes and presents segment was over. Yoongi actually thought that Jimin would leave first thing after ‘completing’ the party program that is ‘dinner-cake-gift’ but he was surprised when the younger did not make any move to leave. In fact, Jimin makes himself at home in the living room—top buttons of his shirt undone, pillow over his lap, the sofa-designated blanket thrown over his shoulders, and a hand holding a wine glass that never seems to be empty.
With their second bottle of wine, the two have completely lost track of time. Just like earlier, they do not bother to check their phones, just simply enjoying being in the moment. It’s a very irresponsible thing for them to do considering it's a weekday and they're both very busy people. But none of that matters to them. To Yoongi, at least. However, because he is a good hyung, he tried to subtly bring it up in the conversation, and when Jimin simply shrugs with a toothy smile, he decided they deserve this little break.
The topics flow easily between, even more so that their tongues have become loose with the alcohol. Jimin is probably tipsy, his cheeks flushed and his movements like dancing seaweeds. Yet the boy still manages to keep up with the conversation normally, so Yoongi does not pry. He will only say something once a drunken act or sound is out.
They talk about a lot of things. Fond memories from their childhood, relatable experiences at their schools, gossip from work, and they even end up sharing the time darkness plagued them when they were younger.
“I always excelled growing up, and it made me both prideful and insecure. And I always thought that the only way to make it up to everyone who has to put up with my pride, and to myself for always feeling like shit, was to give my heart out to everyone.” Yoongi would learn about Jimin.
Or…
“My guilty pleasure as a kid was girl group music —the ones that made me embrace my feminine side. I never told this to anyone, but I would… I’d often draw myself in this gender-neutral fashion and style. It helped me cope before I came out to my parents.”
Intimate, honest, raw.
All topics are jumbled up, they do not form a cohesive order of themes. But they don't stop talking until they end up venturing into relationships—familial, friendly, and romantic.
Jimin shares his experiences with his exes as well, the good and the bad, the funny and the ugly. He shares how all of those started and ended, the lessons he's learned from those relationships.
“My first heartbreak was when they cheated on me. I dunno, looking back on it now, I think what was truly broken was my ego,” the younger would share. “I was always told for years that anyone would be lucky to have me. I guess that just made me feel dumb—they clearly didn’t feel lucky to have me if they had to seek for someone else.”
And the peaceful way he tells these stories only makes Yoongi admire him more, because it is clear that Jimin has forgiven those people and himself, and grown out of those mistakes and weighing feelings. He is open and honest, so Yoongi, too, does the same.
Through this, the whole night, the seamless conversations, Yoongi finally knows what it feels like to learn Jimin from the source himself. Not from observation, not from outside experience, not from group hangouts, but from this—a meaningful, intimate time spent together. Just the two of them. Just Yoongi and Jimin, an unlikely pair.
At some point, their conversation does end up lulling, and they both sit there in silence as they take quiet sips on what's little left of their wine. The time is probably too late on a Wednesday night for two corporate slaves to stay up. Yoongi is just about to say it, suggest Jimin should rest, had accepted that his time being greedy has come to its inevitable end, when the younger suddenly speaks up.
“You know… I had a little crush on you.”
Yoongi freezes.
He thinks he is hearing things, but when he looks at Jimin, there's no glint in his eyes that suggests he was joking. Instead, the other is looking at him intently, as if gauging his reaction.
Yoongi gulps. “No way,” he croaks out.
“Yes way.” Jimin himself sounds breathless. “It’s one of the reasons why I felt shy around you. It just disappeared over time, though. I dunno, maybe because our friend group got settled?”
That would make sense… But he cannot help but wonder—had they liked each other at the right time, at the same time, what could have been of them?
“But… But if I reciprocated—back then—would you have given it a try?”
The answer is instant, the answer is, “Surely, definitely.” And yet, Yoongi hears the ‘but’ before it comes. “But we wouldn't have ended up, uh, well.”
Something cracks inside of him, but he maintains his composure and expression neutral to ask, “Why do you think so?”
“I am very different from who and what I was. Even you. I was too immature, you were very ahead of me. We had way too different outlooks on life.”
Oh.
It’s not exactly painful, but the truth of it—the reality—feels like a slap on the face. But at the same time, it opens a door for hope. Albeit ajar, it is still open. Because if that was one of the reasons that held Jimin back, then it wouldn't be the same anymore today. And Yoongi would like to hold on to the thought that where they are now are closer than where they were in their early twenties. That they are closer to aligning than the both think.
“That’s a very mature take,” Yoongi says with an understanding nod.
“See? I’m mature now.”
And that triggers it.
“So you’d give us a chance now?”
There is no going back. Yoongi has dropped the question.
“What?”
“I mean, hypothetically—” He cuts himself off. “Realistically, would you?” He corrects himself.
They are mature now. They are too old for indirect confessions, for hypothetical scenarios that either lead to the inevitable or create complicated love drama. This is them talking as adults, and it’s now or never.
He watches Jimin as he waits for an answer—observes the way his face and eyes go through a series of complex emotions. Yoongi may not know what is on the younger’s mind, but he can see the question in his expression—the surprise, the intrigue, the interest, the fear. They all jumble together in what ends up being wonder. As if Jimin has come up with a possibility in his head, but hasn't come to terms with it.
“That… Depends.”
His breath hitches and his heart pounds. “Depends on what?” It's becoming hard to breathe.
“If, one, we're not doing it just out of alcohol-influenced impulse. If, two, we’re not just trying it out because we’re the only people in the friend group who aren't actually close.” Jimin looks away frowning. “It’d ruin things if it didn't work out.”
Yoongi cannot feel his hands, his lips, too, go numb. But he manages to say, “What if… I never looked at it that way?” They lock eyes, then the confession comes easily. “What if I always thought about that with you for a long time now?”
“Hyung,” Jimin gasps out. He hurriedly straightens in his seat, and Yoongi likes to think the former is going through the same nervousness he's feeling. “I’m not actually drunk.”
“I know.” Yoongi nods. “Me, too.”
A second of silence—of giving space for the words to settle, for the meaning to settle. Then Jimin scoots a little closer, his eyes holding spark of careful excitement. “You wanna try? You really want that?”
“I do.” It comes out immediately—without a second of hesitation. As if Yoongi was always meant to say that answer, here in his place—in front of Jimin. “Not because you're the only person I haven't been close with, not because I haven't been dating for a while, but because I’ve been thinking of you constantly, for years.”
The smile that blooms on Jimin’s face is beautiful, soft. And Yoongi likes to think it is only reserved for him—for them.
“Thinking of me how?” Jimin giddily whispers.
“Noticing you,” murmurs Yoongi. His eyes dart down to Jimin’s lips. Just a second, just a glance, then looks him straight in the eyes. “The different ways you smile, the different ways you tease with each friend, how you like your meals, drinks, the ways you dress depending on your mood. And for years, I’ve always wondered what it'd feel like to know the littlest intimacies of you.
What’s the first thing you do when you wake up? What’s your skincare and haircare routine? Do you sing and ramble when you shower? Do you make your bed a certain way? How do you organize your socks? I want to get to know you like that, and it recently made me realize that's not how you normally think of your friends. Doesn't help when they're, wow, gorgeous every time. Not a single second do you look unattractive in my eyes.”
And Jimin says the most unexpected. “You’re very talkative when you’re drunk.”
It pulls an unattractive snort out of Yoongi, a sound not so ideal for such a precious moment, just like the sily response. “I’m not drunk.”
Jimin releases a breath and shakes his head with a smile. “I know, I just had to say something.”
“Maybe start with what I just confessed?” Yoongi teases. It feels good to be able to.
“I will admit that, despite what I said about losing my crush, I still think of you often.” Jimin reaches out and rests his hand atop Yoongi’s that is resting on his knee. “My eyes always search for you whenever we all hang out. I always find myself seeking your validation and attention in small ways. I always make myself look good when I know you're around. But they all happen so naturally that it just… felt like a part of me.”
The confession has Yoongi sighing in relief, easing the numbness away, lifting the weight off his chest, and welcoming a familiar flutter of what others call butterflies. How dorky it is to call it that, but he cannot help but agree with the cliché saying when it feels exactly that. When he remembers the times he does those exact things Jimin mentioned.
“Same—I do those, too.” The lingering gazes, the seeking, the awareness, how naturally it all comes to him.
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
He turns his hand over and clasps their sweaty palms together. It’s a little sticky, a little too warm, but it’s perfect. Their hands fit perfectly.
They both stare where their joined hands sit for a while, basking in the moment—the revelations, the confessions, the feelings, the bond, the connection. Yoongi, and he is certain Jimin as well, had not expected for their dinner to turn out this way. What was supposed to be a quick, quiet, awkward meal with a friend who wasn’t aware that the party was set at a different date, ended up with a soft confession that opened not just a door for their friendship to grow, but for something gentler and warmer that’s reserved for them.
“Should we?” And it comes off timid from Jimin, somewhat scared—most likely for the endless possibilities of how things would go between them, the good and the bad. But that is why they have each other. To hold on, to anchor, to cherish, to stay. They are a team.
That is, if Jimin would allow them.
“Not ‘should,’ just… ‘let’s,’” Yoongi mutters lowly, assuring.
“Let’s try?”
“Let’s.” And they both share a smile.
“This is… weird—good weird! Just—it’s like nothing changed.” Jimin giggles shyly, his head ducked down, but his hold on Yoongi’s hand remains firm, as if he doesn’t plan to let go any time soon.
“It doesn't have to quickly change everything, but let’s discuss the important stuff,” Yoongi says softly.
“Oh, sure, I’d really appreciate that. It’s been a while since I dated and I suddenly feel like a noob.”
“Don’t worry, me, too.” They both let out a chuckle, quiet and shy. “Uh—boundaries? Anything you're not comfy to do with me? Or anything you’re okay with us doing?” Yoongi asks.
They discuss it all with open minds and rapt attention. No PDA, at least for now when things are fresh. Give space when one requests it out of necessity to seek for solitary peace, again, for now. Then they would move to their wants—hand holding, innocent kisses, nicknames, occasional updates. Baby step after baby step.
Although they have all the time in the world to discuss these, the two of them do not stop. Not out of rush, but out of eagerness and excitement for what’s about to come next.
The discussion eventually leads to its end, and Yoongi, heart beating in intense satisfaction, asks just in case, “Um, anything else?”
Jimin perks up as if just remembering. “I would like it if we texted using our local numbers.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Jimin grins. “It feels more intimate to me. But if you’re not comfortable with it, it’s alright.”
“No, that'd be great, actually. Finally get my number to use that isn't for making accounts or for business.”
“Same. You’d be the only one with a profile picture and cute name and everything.” Jimin’s shoulders adorably rise up as his face flushes that pretty pink again. And Yoongi cannot help himself from pinching the younger’s cheek.
“You’ll put a cute name for me? Like what?” He asks teasingly, his voice surprisingly lifted in a pitchy coo. The realization of his embarrassment is quick, but he doesn't get the chance to drown in it when Jimin, too, does the same.
“I’ll change it to ‘cat hyung’ with a heart.”
His heart just skipped a beat. How could a man be this adorable?
“That’s adorable. I’ll change yours to, hm, ‘lovely dongsaeng’ with the heart eyes emoji.”
“Heart eyes emoji?”
“Yes, yes. I hate that emoji, but that’s exactly how I look whenever I see you.”
Jimin gasps. “You’re so cheesy! Oh my god!” He lightly slaps Yoongi’s arm, and they both giggle cheekily. “I like this side of you.”
“And I like your laugh.” Yoongi wiggles his eyebrows, sending the younger into an intense giggling fit.
“Stop it, hyung. You don't need to woo me so aggressively!”
It’s incredible how easy it is to be comfortable around Jimin, and though he feels regretful for not having this kind of normalcy with him before, Yoongi is still very much grateful that they both have it now. Even if it only took nine years to happen. The dating part is a huge bonus. But Yoongi likes to think of it as a package—this was meant to happen—so dating is not a bonus, it’s just what is supposed to be.
He simply responds with a hum, not really planning to listen to that. Yoongi would do anything Jimin wants him to do, as long as it does not have to resort to letting go of his favorite things. And his new favorite thing is to flirt with Jimin openly.
Yoongi takes the younger’s phone sitting on the table and waves it. “Let’s take a picture. For our contact photos.”
“Hmm, sure.” There’s a teasing lilt to Jimin’s tone, but he doesn't press further and just takes the phone.
They end up taking way too many photos then. Lots of selfies in different poses—peace sign, kissy and silly expressions, and Yoongi even ends up nosing Jimin’s temple affectionately. All of their selfies have their faces almost glued together—too close to be friends squished in the frame, too intimate, too together. And anyone who would see it will know.
But not yet.
The two don't plan on showing this to the world yet. Just someday—that’s a promise. The world had nine years to witness them with others, with being individuals. Now, it’s their turn to have this for themselves for as long as they want. A decade sounds good just to beat the nine-year record, but can Yoongi really resist Jimin? It’ll be something they have to find out together.
“You’re welcome to stay the night,” Yoongi says as casually as he could.
Both the kitchen and the living room are all spotless now, and only then did Yoongi finally check the time. It’s well past midnight, quarter to 1 AM. He’s certain Jimin brought his car, but it's too late—or early?—and he had quite a number of drinks.
“But I don’t have a change of…”
“You can borrow mine if you're okay with it.” He shrugs. “It's very late, and you also drank earlier.
Yoongi is just about to say more to try and persuade Jimin into staying the night when the younger says, “Fine.” Looking done and supposedly annoyed, but the smile he tries to fight off gives him away.
What follows is a domestic individual routine that feels like it's always been the way it is in Yoongi’s cosy home. They brush their teeth side-by-side, one arranges the bed while the other does his business in the bathroom, and one plugs im the chargers while the other gets ready to settle in bed.
“Would you be more comfortable sleeping here alone? I’m okay with sleeping on the couch,” Yoongi says from the door.
Jimin, who is now ready for slumber under the covers, quickly sits up. “What?! Hyung, don’t be silly, sleep beside me! You own this bed, and really, I don't… I don’t mind… sleeping… beside you.” His voice trailing off as if realizing something embarrassing has Yoongi chuckling.
Park Jimin, 30, still the cutest bean ever. And now they’re dating.
He’s slept beside his previous partners before, even some of his friends, but this one with Jimin feels different. In the way that when he gets under the covers on the right side, the solid presence beside him doesn't feel like a big change in his routine, but simply an addition to make it feel cozier and warmer. In the way that he can sleep peacefully, knowing to give Jimin his whole trust in his deep slumbering state.
It doesn't take long for the calm to finally settle. Darkness embraces them as Yoongi turns off the lamp beside him, and then their breathing slows into gentle waves as their eyes close to finally rest.
“Thank you for tonight, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi whispers.
The sheets rustle and the bed dips as Jimin shifts in his place, but Yoongi does not open his eyes to check.
“I wouldn't miss your birthday, hyung.”
A smile makes its way on Yoongi’s face. “I know, you never missed one.”
“You never missed one of mine, too.”
And just before sleep takes over, Yoongi thinks to himself a quiet promise. That for Jimin's birthday, he will spoil him greatly. But before that—become his boyfriend first.