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“Come on, you’re too slow, Yoongi!”
“I-I’m coming, I’m coming!”
Yoongi hates running. He hates how the cold wind cuts through his cheeks and how his heart starts pistonning inside his chest. He hates being out of breath and sweaty and he hates being called slow.
But if Jimin wants him to hurry up, he’ll run.
“There won’t be any seats left!” Jimin bemoans and, in a twist of a terrifying second, Yoongi watches him stop, turn around and reach down to take his hand, impatiently.
Yoongi almost trips on his own feet and his heart can’t be turning inside-out just from running a few feet and his hand opens up as Jimin’s fingers brush on his skin and—
Wraps around his wrist.
“Come on,” he calls softly now and gently drags Yoongi down the school hall in the direction of the library.
By the time they - fortunately - catch a table and open the books and exercises they have to go over, Yoongi still hasn’t gotten over it. There’s a scorching prickle around his wrist, a sahara blazing inside his mouth and a letdown so deep inside his chest, his heart must have somehow fallen all the way through his feet.
He feels stupid — he does every day, but this time it’s even worse — to think for even a second that Jimin would have held his hand.
“You’re alright?” Jimin whispers behind his pile of books, looking concerned and a little disheveled from the running. It makes Yoongi dream of reaching out and brushing his messy fringe away from his forehead.
Add that to the list of things that will never happen.
“I’m fine,” he murmurs back. “Just catching my breath.”
Yoongi knows he sounds pathetic, but he’d rather lie — or die — than let Jimin in on his secret.
There are some things we never tell, not even to our best friend. Especially if your best friend is part of the thing you’re not telling. Yoongi would run for the rest of his life and disappear forever if he had to tell Jimin about the huge crush he has on him.
“I’m sorry I dragged you,” Jimin whispers again, kindly this time. “I was scared of us not finding any seats, since everyone is cramming for the midterms.”
Yoongi presses his lips into the thinnest line. He was the one that said he really wanted to spend some time at the library today. He tries not to blush, but fails miserably when his cheeks heat up all the same.
“It’s fine.”
He curls his hand on his lap under the table and pushes down the ridiculous disappointed yearning he gags in every day since he realized he might be in love with Park Jimin.
This isn’t the first time he’d fallen for the trap of thinking he’d get to hold Jimin’s hand, even for the tiniest second. As much as Yoongi tells himself his crush is totally one-sided and buried so deep no one will ever know, every time the possibility of holding hands with Jimin presents itself, his brain just turns off.
Every damn time.
—
For someone so introverted, Yoongi surely finds himself in some serious social situations quite frequently.
Like that time he was pressed in a booth between Hoseok and Taehyung while Jimin and Jungkook got their orders at the counter of a fast food restaurant, or when they all get together after school to kill time and pretend they’re studying at Namjoon’s house.
Today he’s on the couch, pressed between Seokjin and Jimin while they both try to beat each other at some racing game on Seokjin’s playstation. 3? 4? Yoongi is bad at videogames.
It felt weird at first. Yoongi thought he was being dragged into these things because he looked lonely and had no friends beside Jimin. He’s gotten closer with everyone as time passed, however and, even if Jimin is the true best friend no matter what, Yoongi has an extra fond spot for everyone, especially Jungkook and Taehyung.
But Seokjin? Seokjin is evil.
“Yah! Park Jimin you’re pathetic, get out of my couch!” He says in peels of laughter after Jimin loses yet again.
“You’re cheating!”
“It’s a video game, I can’t cheat on this,” Seokjin is outraged, “Put respect on my skills, punk.”
“I give up. Jungkook, you wanna take over and humiliate someone?” Jimin offers the controller and Jungkook looks up from inhaling a bag of chips on the counter like a deer in headlights.
“Me?”
The next scene feels a bit surreal, even as Yoongi recalls it later on. The type of thing that only happens if you’re socially anxious, the type of thing that only haunts you forever if you’re desperately in need of burying your head in the sand and maybe staying there for a century minimum.
Yoongi can’t possibly know he’s looking up at Jimin so reverently as he stands up from the couch and gestures at Seokjin with his open palm. What he says comes slurred through the fog of Yoongi’s starstruckness, but it’s something along the lines of—
“Take your pick of victim. First we have our undefeated champion Kim Seokjin, the master of Mario Cart and booster collecting. He is also cheating.”
At that, Seokjin laughs and reaches out to hold and shake Jimin’s hand. Yoongi is observing intently. Jimin humorously takes his hand back and now makes the same gesture at him—
“And here we have Min Yoongi who’s never held a controller in his life, so please be gentle.”
Yoongi’s hand twitches visibly, almost out to hold those precious tiny fingers, but Jimin pulls his hand away before he has the chance to make the gesture and humiliate himself even further trying to grab air.
Yoongi curls his fingers back right away and crosses his arms in a desperate attempt to pretend nothing happened, even as mortification makes a silly smile curl on the corner of his mouth. Did anyone notice? He can’t bring himself to look.
“Let’s see if Jin is really cheating,” he hears Jungkook’s muffled voice under the sound of his breaking heart.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
—
Seokjin and Hoseok start dating right before winter break and no one is surprised with that outcome. They’re gross and all over each other and Yoongi has turned his eyes away a million times to not see Hoseok put kisses on the entirety of Seokjin’s face every chance he gets.
“Your hands are so cold,” Seokjin frowns, holding both of Hoseok’s hands as they stand outside, waiting for the other guys to come out and join them for some coffee and cake somewhere warm after class.
“I forgot my gloves,” Hoseok pouts and it makes Seokjin coo.
Yoongi has to admit, they’re pretty cute together. Who would have thought Seokjin could be so caring and loving. Maybe Hobi just brings out the best in him.
“I’ll warm them up,” Seokjin wraps both hands around his boyfriend’s fingers and brings each pair into his jacket pockets. It makes Hoseok blush.
It makes Yoongi blush and it makes something different altogether flourish like a fairytale rose inside his chest. In a perfect world, he and Jimin would be dating, too.
And they would walk around holding hands with their fingers intertwined and Jimin would warm his hands when it’s cold and Yoongi would never let them go.
With bitten lips and a hammering heart, he discreetly removes his gloves and gets rid of them, stuffing his hands back in his pockets. He knows he’s being ridiculous, but again, his brain isn’t working.
“Everything alright, Yoon-Yoon?” Hoseok asks gently, as if realizing he and Seokjin are kind of excluding him from their interactions.
“Hm? Ah, yeah. Just… it’s taking them a while to come out,” Yoongi shrinks. “It’s kind of cold.”
“Namjoon must have lost his brain somewhere between class and his locker.” Seokjin says unhelpfully.
Yoongi curls his cold hands inside his pockets when Jimin and Namjoon walk around the corner a few minutes later, chatting away as if they aren't late.
By then, his cheeks have started burning with the cold and maybe he shouldn't have removed the damn gloves.
“Sorry, I was asking some questions about the assignment,” Namjoon offers his explanation voluntarily.
“Nerd.” It's Seokjin that rolls his eyes and pulls Hoseok by the hand. “Yoongi is literally turning into a popsicle because of you.”
“I-I’m not,” Yoongi’s teeth chatter and he's not sure how he feels about the way Jimin instantly turns his head to him, worried.
“Are you sure? Jesus, your hands are freezing —” he gasps as he spots Yoongi's pale, reddened hand pushing one lock of hair behind his ear in embarrassment.
It's as if Jimin makes to take it into his own, but holds himself back from doing it before the gesture can take form.
Instead, he removes his own gloves and offers them to Yoongi.
“Here, put them on.”
Yoongi doesn't hear the way Seokjin and Hoseok snicker behind their hands, because his ears are ringing and his heart is thumping way too hard on them. But he hears when Jimin smiles and insists.
“Come oonn. Your hands are freezing.”
“Okay,” Yoongi gingerly takes the gloves and his voice is nothing but a murmur. “Thank you.”
He doesn’t mean to sound disappointed. He brought this one onto himself, literally.
In what reality would Jimin gallantly take his hands into his to warm them up, rubbing his thumb across the back of them and looking fondly into Yoongi’s eyes?
Not this one.
But maybe this counts, right? Indirectly holding Jimin’s hands by wearing the gloves he’d just taken off?
That’s what Yoongi keeps telling himself to keep his chin from wobbling the rest of that day.
—
“You two are smothering me,” Yoongi bemoans under Taehyung and Jungkook as they watch Namjoon and Jimin throw basketballs at the hoop of the gym. They had probably meant to just lean onto him from each side, but, overgrown puppies that they are, all they’ve managed to do is drown Yoongi under two layers of overexcited giggles.
“Yoongi is like a little throw pillow,” Taehyung sighs contently, snuggling closer to watch something Jungkook has playing on the screen of his phone.
“A decorative cushion,” Jungkook chimes in, just getting more and more comfortable.
“I’m done being your carpet,” Yoongi tries to get up, but his butt is flat on the ground. “Yah.”
It only makes the two menaces giggle at him.
“Don't be so grumpy, grandpa.”
Across the space between the wall and the hoop, Jimin catches his pleading eyes and immediately comes to his rescue, as if he knows what Yoongi means with a single look.
Considering they're best friends, that sounds accurate, right? Yoongi can't bring himself to be upset at Jimin for his own unfulfilled fantasies. Even heartbroken, he's clinged firmly to his best friend position.
He knows one day Jimin will like someone, ask them out and start dating, but Yoongi tries not to think too much about it.
As long as his secret stays secret, he can probably deal with the rest.
“Jesus, you're trying to flatten him or something?” Jimin comes up to them, hands on his waist and a raised eyebrow. “Have you two forgotten you grew, like, a foot in the last eight weeks?”
“There's no reason to come play the charming prince, Jimin,” Taehyung chuckles, but leans away from Yoongi. “He's all yours.”
Weirdly, Jimin gets all red in the face.
“Shut up.”
With that, Jungkook rolls away as well, giggling to himself.
“Come on Tae, let's make Hobi buy us some candy.”
“Idiots.” Jimin grumbles as he watches them go on their merry way, still blushing. Then he turns to Yoongi with a much kinder smile. “Need help getting up?”
“Uh, yes.” Yoongi can't help it. He dreamily watches the way Jimin extends both hands to him and his brain excitedly celebrates he'll finally know how they feel around his own.
But then Jimin bypasses his reaching hands and circles his fingers around his forearms, before gently yanking him up.
Yoongi loses his footing and falls against Jimin’s chest, all shades of feelings blaring inside his head.
“Be careful—” Jimin catches him by the waist, but quickly lets go, almost as if he's been burned. “I'm sorry.”
“It's fine,” Yoongi mewls, using all the strength he has to not curl his fingers on Jimin's jacket. He can't bring himself to look up, he'll probably look incredibly stupid.
Jimin smells so good, he felt so solid and warm and perfect. It makes Yoongi want to curl into a ball and be kicked into the sun.
One day someone will be in these arms. And it won't be Yoongi.
“It's getting kinda late. Come on, I'll walk you home,” Jimin reaches for Yoongi's backpack and gestures with his head to the exit of the gym.
This time Yoongi makes sure their hands are nowhere near each other as they walk side by side in the cold end of the season.
—
Maybe Yoongi is approaching this the wrong way. Maybe he needs some proactivity to make his dreams come true.
Sure, he might never get the courage to confess before he combusts into a black hole, but skinship with your friend is something completely trivial.
Jimin does it all the time with everyone. Yoongi has seen him spin Hoseok around, do arm wrestling with Jungkook, hug Seokjin and literally cuddle with Taehyung.
He's literally watching as Namjoon gently holds Jimin's hands and examines his new set of rings, softly and carefully.
Hoseok and Jungkook are loudly making snacks in the kitchen and Seokjin and Taehyung have gone out to buy some sodas.
Hoseok’s parents are still at work, but they don't mind their boy having some friends home after school.
Yoongi minds absolutely nothing that isn't Jimin's hands right now. He's watching with the corner of his eye as he pretends to be on his phone, Namjoon being all delicate and soft as if Jimin is a little prince with pretty hands - he is - who deserves to be admired and cherished.
God, he's so in love, it almost makes him gag.
At first, he doesn't have the courage to ask. It sounds too unnatural and Yoongi is already awkward as it is.
“You alright?” Jimin turns to him at some point, quietly, leaning in to bump shoulders in their little noisy circle of crinkling wrappers.
“Yeah.”
“You’ve been really quiet.”
Yoongi shrugs. “Do you think so?”
“More than usual.”
Yoongi turns his eyes to his knees, curled up between his arms. “I like your rings.”
Jimin blinks. “Oh,” he looks down at his own hands, the ones Namjoon had so lovingly inspected. “Thanks. I guess it’s my new favorite thing.”
Yoongi chews on his bottom lip for a second. “Can I see them?”
His heart is already beating on his ears by the time Jimin moves his hand up with a smile. “Of course.”
He presents it to Yoongi closed into a fist, knuckles up.
Yoongi wraps his arms around the underside of his thighs and curls his fingers until they hurt more than anything else hurting right now.
“They’re very pretty.” He tries to smile, but he’s barely looking at them. This is a new level of pathetic.
He doesn’t say another word for the rest of the night.
—
It is on a festive circle just a few weeks ahead, brimming with celebration as they all get together after graduating their third year of highschool that Yoongi realizes, terrifyingly, that his secret might not be that much of a secret.
They’re in a little circle around the center table in Jimin’s home this time, eating pizza straight from the box as everyone excitedly talks about their entrance exams and their promising futures.
Yoongi is over the moon, of course, to be starting a new part of his life. Maybe a little sad that he and his friends might go in different directions, but they’re all promising to keep in touch with the ones moving out to university. Yoongi, Jimin and Jungkook are staying in town, at least. It’d be hard to be left alone.
Jimin looks radiant sitting between him and Namjoon, with his hair recently dyed blond and a dreamy glint to his eyes that makes him look ethereal and soft and… and so far away.
“We have to make a promise to meet, all of us, at least once a year.” He says.
“Of course,” Namjoon agrees. “The most important friendships are the ones we make at the beginning of our lives.”
Seokjin rolls his eyes at that, but for once agrees, fondly. “You’re so gross. Alright.”
Hoseok is the one that puts his hands, palms up. “Let’s make a promise, then!” They reluctantly start joining hands, one by one. “Jungkook! Come on!” Hoseok bemoans as Jungkook is getting another soda from the fridge. “Stop eating for five minutes!”
“I want coke!”
Jimin is the one that stands up, hands a mere inch away from taking Yoongi’s fingers into his, gone in a flash. “We’ll go out to buy more soda, now come be sappy with us!” He grabs Jungkook and drags him back as everyone restlessly shifts around to make room for the two of them in their new spot, on the other side of Namjoon.
Away from Yoongi.
Yoongi isn’t proud to say he barely registers the words of their promise to meet again as he dazedly holds Namjoon’s and Taehyung’s hands instead and stares into the box of pizza the whole time.
He’s the problem. A voice in the back of his head tells him, almost sadistically, that Jimin has known this whole time that Yoongi has feelings for him and that’s why time after time, he’s pulled back from his advances.
Jimin is just too nice to reject him.
Yoongi looks around as they all let go, keenly aware that maybe everyone can tell he’s stupidly in love with Jimin.
“Bathroom,” he barely mumbles, before standing up and vanishing down the corridor. There’s waves of panic coursing through his body, mortification, embarrassment and the urge to disappear in a cloud of smoke all smothered together and stuck in his throat.
Yoongi just wanted to hold hands with Jimin. It’s such a stupid thing. It doesn’t need all these feelings of sorrow attached.
Maybe it’s the combination of all his failed attempts, he rationalizes as he quietly slides into the balcony without anyone noticing, making sure the curtains cover the glass door when he sits behind it, under the moon.
Maybe it’s the fact that there’s a possibility Jimin has consciously avoided it all this time, just with him. Because he knew Yoongi wasn’t innocent in his gestures like everyone else was.
Yeah, it might be that.
Jimin knows Yoongi has feelings for him and he doesn’t reciprocate.
And to make it worse, he’s been trying to be nice about it for god knows how long because Yoongi is pathetic and can’t take a hint on his own.
He doesn’t know how small he looks, curled up, bottom lip slightly jutting out as he stares at his hands, slowly intertwining his fingers back and forth, just crestfallen and possibly heartbroken.
That’s exactly how Jimin finds him, too.
“There you are!”
Yoongi almost jumps out of his skin, gasping out loud and flushing so hard, his eyes sting.
“J-Jimin—”
“I was looking for you,” Jimin steps onto the balcony, but his smile is already melting off his face. “Is everything okay?”
Yoongi hates that his voice is just a croak. “It’s fine.”
There’s a pause.
Jimin slides the glassdoor all the way shut and comes to sit beside him. His eyes are kind and open and sweet and Yoongi wants to curl into a marble and roll off the guard railings.
“Are you sure?”
Yoongi looks up ahead and nods, unconvincingly. Jimin sighs.
“I guess… there’s some things we don’t even tell our best friends. I’m… still your best friend, right?” The shift from calm to earnest makes Yoongi turn his head back to him. Jimin looks strangely vulnerable, almost too open.
“Y-Yeah. Of course. Always.” Yoongi’s voice is hoarse and his cheeks are burning. His chest hurts.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” Jimin mumbles now, smiling again. “But I don’t want you to be here all by yourself. Let’s go back inside.”
He offers his hand.
Yoongi stares.
It looks like a scene out of a movie. The wind, his blond hair, his twinkling eyes.
Yoongi feels cold shivers run through his body as soon as the words are out of his mouth, unfiltered, torn apart.
“Do you really want me to take that?”
Jimin frowns. “Take that?”
“Your hand,” Yoongi looks down. He can’t stop it. “Are you sure you want me to… hold your hand?”
Jimin seems confused. “Oh, uhm. I’m sorry. You don’t really like doing that, do you? I didn’t even think about it this time. I was just trying to help you up,” he pulls the hand back and scratches behind his head, a little disconcerted.
It’s Yoongi’s turn to frown. “What do you mean?”
That catches Jimin off guard. “Oh, nothing, I just, uhm.” He presses his lips into a thin line and blushes pink, looking away. “I-I always thought you didn’t really like, you know, contact? Of course Jungkook and Taehyung completely ignore that, but I didn’t want to, uh.” He pauses and frowns. “Wait, did you think I wouldn’t want to hold your hand?”
Yoongi shrinks. Twiddling his fingers, he turns back to looking at his feet. “You always… seemed to make sure you wouldn’t.” He half shrugs and there’s a knot in his throat again. “I just thought…” he can’t see the way Jimin’s eyes widen at that. “It’s fine if you don’t want to. I’m sorry that s-sometimes it seemed like I was trying to.”
There’s a beat of cold winded silence.
“You wanted to hold my hand?” Yoongi can’t find a description of the tone of Jimin’s voice. Confused? Distressed? Exasperated?
So he looks up.
He finds his face in a battle of emotions, which results in crestfalleness in the end.
“I like holding hands,” Yoongi murmurs at the floor between them. Then he frowns. “Why do you think I don’t?”
Jimin bites his lip. “W-Well every time I tried to b-before, you pulled away so fast. And I… uhm.” He’s blushing. “I didn’t want to ruin anything between us, s-so I made sure to not do that from then on.”
Yoongi flushes scarlet red. “Oh. I’m sorry. I was just… nervous when you did that.”
Another silent beat.
“I’m really sorry.” Jimin says earnestly. “I did it today, didn’t I? I didn’t mean to, I didn’t even—”
“It’s fine.” Yoongi’s heart turns inside out. He wants to cry.
“…I’ve always really wanted to hold your hand.” He now blushes a lovely shade of red. “But if… if you didn’t like it, e-even then, I—” It feels like he’s cutting himself off, but he continues— “I wanted to hold on to you, no matter what.” Jimin's too young to have such a grave look in his eyes.
Yoongi can’t explain what happens, as the words melt inside his ears and fill the cracks in his heart until it melds whole. It burns somewhere, warm and overwhelming and maybe that’s why the tears spring from his eyes and roll down his cheeks.
Jimin takes his hand, softly, gently and brings it to his lips, closing his eyes as he puts a kiss on the back of it. It feels like touching clouds, like running his hands through rose petals and velvet, like earnestly holding his heart out and having it so tenderly taken.
Their fingers intertwine, warm and soft, hold everlasting.
He feels crazy when Jimin looks up from kissing each knuckle with a scorching hot blush on his cheeks to stare at his lips.
“Don't let me go,” Yoongi remembers to breathe in the inch between their faces, as if time had eaten itself in the last few seconds and Jimin’s lips had suddenly ended up so close to his.
His hand is still warmly wrapped into Jimin's when they kiss, slowly, tentatively. Yoongi feels like a soft-boiled egg, so soft indeed, he might just melt out of his shell with a single crack. He's electrified from the spot where Jimin's lips touch his, down to the tips of his toes and, for a crazy moment, he holds back a sob when more tears spill out of his closed eyelids.
“Not even for a second,” Jimin murmurs between their mouths, solemn. With one last peck, he pulls back with shiny eyes. “I'm sorry.”
Yoongi shakes his head with a little teary smile. More tears slide down and he sniffles in the cold air as Jimin gently wipes them off. “You weren't trying to hurt me.”
Jimin deflates and takes his other hand. “It’s no excuse.”
Yoongi just… shrugs. He'd never hold it against Jimin. He bites his lip, loving how their fingers intertwine so easily, so perfectly.
“Want to come back inside with me?”
“Yeah.”
Yoongi floats back into the living room, hand held and face piping hot as Jimin gently pulls him back into the laughter and celebration of a new chapter of their lives.
Nobody says anything, not really, but he catches the little sneaked glances their friends steal at their joined hands and how everything suddenly feels happier and brighter as Jimin holds onto him for the rest of the night and much, much longer beyond that.