Archive of Our Own

    Sometimes, Park Jimin regrets wearing tight pants.

    Not that he doesn’t like them, or finds them uncomfortable. But sometimes, when it’s late at night and he is so deep in thoughts when leaving the studio he doesn’t watch where he’s going so he gets lost in a dodgy neighbourhood and his phone is dead because he forgot to charge it the night before - which is an oddly specific situation, but with his luck, Jimin wouldn’t rule out the chances of it happening more than once - Jimin regrets wearing tight pants. He might regret having bright, bubblegum-pink hair, too.

    During the last thirty minutes or so, Jimin has been catcalled at least five times, propositioned and-slash-or insulted twice, and some asshole in a shitty car had the nerve to ask him how much he charged for blowjobs.

    So yeah, Jimin regrets not wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. He’s not scared by the dickheads roaming this part of the city, no, he’s very capable of defending himself - but right now, he’s pissed. Hell, he’s fucking fuming, so when a low, raspy voice greets him with a soft “hey”, Jimin loses it.

    “If you dare ask me how much I charge for fucking blowjobs, I swear to God I’m gonna sucker-punch your face,” he snaps, his voice a hair away from turning into a growl.

    He expects the man to react either with an insult or a surrendering mumble, but what he gets is an incredulous, spluttered “ what?! ”, so Jimin quirks a brow and glances at the silhouette coming out of the next street. What he sees makes him want to facepalm (or rather, disappear into the ground).

    Facing him, a stunned expression on his face, stands Min Yoongi. Min Yoongi, the guy with the most surreal bad reputation of all the university. Violence, foul mouth, drug dealing and worse - Jimin can’t recall everything he’s heard about him. He’s fairly sure most of those are bullshit; Yoongi is in his history of art class, and Jimin has never seen him look anything but sleepy. Sure, grumpy sometimes, but who isn’t at 8am lectures? Then again, if he spends his nights in this kind of place, maybe not everything about the rumours is false.

    “Park Jimin, right?” Yoongi says in a wary voice. “I’m Min Yoongi, we have some classes together? You seemed lost. Was gonna ask if you needed help.”

    “Yeah, I know who you are,” Jimin sighs. “And yes, I am lost, and tired of being mistaken for a hooker.”

    That stretches a lopsided smile on Yoongi’s face.

    “Gathered as much,” he grins. “I was on my way to the dorms anyway, wanna walk with me?”

    Jimin’s brow rises at the offer, but then he collects himself and shrugs, half a smile on his face.

    “Sure. Thanks.”

    They walk in silence for a while. Jimin usually doesn’t mind silence, but right now, he needs to vent, nevermind who’s with him. Nevermind that it’s Min fucking Yoongi walking alongside him, piercings, leather jacket and all. After a few minutes, he snaps.

    “Do I look like a hooker?”

    Yoongi shoots him a surprised glance.

    “Uh,” he exhales. “I’m not sure you’re even nearly slutty enough. Not for this area, at least. Maybe you could pass as one in an upscale neighbourhood?”

    “Are you saying I look like an expensive hooker?” Jimin grumbles, but the smile on Yoongi’s face tells him he’s joking, so he relaxes and chuckles weakly. “What a night,” he sighs, rubbing his face.

    Yoongi eyes him carefully.

    “What were you doing here anyway?”

    “Was going home from the studio,” he shrugs. “I guess I took a wrong turn somewhere, I still don’t remember the path and I was kinda lost in thought.”

    Jimin just gets a hum in response, and silence falls again until Yoongi’s tentative voice breaks it again.

    “Did someone actually ask for prices?”

    “Yeah. Can you believe it? The nerve of the guy. I’m somewhat used to catcalls, but I’d never been mistaken for an actual prostitute.”

    “That’s tough,” Yoongi grumbles. “Most people here are shit.”

    “You seem decent enough, walking me home and everything like a gentleman,” Jimin can’t help but tease.

    They’re right under a streetlamp in this instant, so Jimin has all the light he needs to see the blush covering Yoongi’s cheeks. Okay, that is unexpected. Min Yoongi doesn’t blush . He’s supposed to be a badass cunt, but right now he looks… Jimin purses his lips when the only word that comes to his mind is “cute”. Min Yoongi’s not supposed to be cute.

    “Yeah, well,” Yoongi mumbles. “It’s not like I chose to live here because I love crackheads.”

    “You live here?!”

    “Can’t afford a room on campus, so I stay here with my mom and kid brother. I’m not spending time in a shithole for the fun of it,” Yoongi shrugs.

    Jimin lets out a low whistle between his teeth.

    “Must be hard. Plus you have to walk all the way there and back everyday.”

    Yoongi seems embarrassed, head tucked between his shoulders.

    “Sometimes I crash on my friend’s floor in the dorms, but it’s not much better. Anyway. Could you… I mean…”

    “Not tell everyone you can’t afford a room? I might be a hooker but I’m not an asshole,” Jimin jokes, before he goes serious again. “Especially to someone who’s helping me.”

    Yoongi chuckles.

    “Thanks.”

    Another silent moment passes. Yoongi seems to enjoy the quiet, but Jimin fidgets with his sleeves. He admits it plainly - he’s curious. It’s the first time he actually talks to Yoongi and he is nothing like Jimin expected.

    “Why are you going back to the dorms so late, if you don’t mind me asking?” he eventually asks. “I mean, considering you don’t live there.”

    “I’m gonna sleep in my friend Namjoon’s room. I’ve got a presentation early tomorrow and I don’t wanna be late.”

    “Oh, I see. What kind of presentation? You’re in music production, right?”

    A small smile breaks on Yoongi’s face as he nods.

    “I am. I have to submit my latest composition and talk about it. It’s an important project, so early in the semester, so I’d rather not fuck up.”

    “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Jimin says encouragingly, earning a little laugh from Yoongi.

    “How can you be so sure? You haven’t heard it. Could be shit, for all you know.”

    Jimin giggles.

    “You said you didn’t want to fuck up, so I doubt you’d submit shit. But if you want me to have a more objective opinion, you’ll have to let me listen to it,” he smiles, repressing the urge to wink.

    They’re near the campus now, and Jimin can make out the silhouettes of the dorms in the dim street light. For some absurd reason, leaving Yoongi in the middle of their conversation disappoints him.

    “I…” Yoongi hesitates, seemingly speechless.

    “I didn’t mean to bother you,” Jimin rushes in an apologetic tone. “But the offer still stands. If you ever need a stranger’s reassurance, for what it’s worth,” he smiles.

    “You’re not a stranger, Park Jimin,” Yoongi grumbles, before he pulls out his phone and taps at its screen. “Here. Do you have headphones or do you want mine?”

    Rather flustered that Yoongi would accept so easily, Jimin fishes his own headphones from his pocket, and grins brightly as Yoongi plugs them into his phone and launches the song. For the next three minutes or so, Jimin stands there, eyes closed and mouth slightly ajar, completely stunned.

    The music is not quite what he expected - he would have bet on trashy rap or maybe metal or something equally violent, but this is neither. Sure, he can hear the influences from some of those genres, with a low, heavy beat and an altogether rough feel, but it goes deeper, subtler than that. There is no voice over the instruments, and if at first he has a hard time discerning a melody, it comes gradually, the different sounds mixing into something almost… haunting. It’s dark, complex, vibrant, and Jimin feels a bit breathless when it ends and his eyes shoot open to send a wild look at Yoongi.

    “That…” he tries, before clearing his voice. “That is your cue to stop calling your work shit,” he manages, a smile forming on his lips.

    Yoongi fumbles awkwardly with his phone, apparently not quite believing the praise.

    “R-Really?”

    “Dude, that was great. I mean that,” Jimin insists.

    Yoongi slowly grins, his eyes closing in the process. He looks so happy Jimin actually giggles. Who knew Min Yoongi could smile like that?

    “Not everyone is sensitive to this genre, I wasn’t expecting you to be so excited,” Yoongi says softly. “Thanks, Jimin.”

    “My contemporary dance teacher sometimes uses this kind of music for our routines. He has this album by… Heck, what’s the name again? Suga, or something.”

    Yoongi’s face does something extremely funny then, like he’s trying to frown, gape and choke on his own breath all at the same time. The choking part actually happens and he coughs into his fist a few times, trying to regain his composure, while Jimin watches him, puzzled.

    “Did I say something weird?”

    “Do you… by chance, is the studio you’re mentioning… Ugh. You’re taking dance lessons with Jung Hoseok, aren’t you?”

    Jimin’s brows disappear into his hair.

    “Yep. How do you know?”

    “Can’t believe he would use that mixtape for his classes, dammit, I told him to keep it to himself,” Yoongi mutters.

    Jimin’s about to ask for clarification when Yoongi’s phone starts ringing in his hands. He scrambles to answer with a rough “hello?”, groans, then tells whoever is on the line that he’s almost there. He hangs up dryly and rakes a hand through his dark hair, then shrugs.

    “I gotta go, Namjoon wants to go to sleep and…” he starts, but Jimin cuts him off with a smile.

    “It’s alright. I know where to go from here. Good night, Yoongi, and good luck for your presentation! You’re gonna rock it,” he offers with his thumbs up, before he waves and scurries off to his own dorm.

    When he’s finally in bed, Jimin softly chuckles to himself. He certainly never expected to have such an interesting time with Min Yoongi.

oOo

    Yoongi drags his feet on the floor, emitting squeaking noises each time his soles rub on the tiles. He doesn’t quite notice how people part before him like the sea before Moses, too used to being avoided to pay it any attention - and right now, too grumpy to even think about it.

    He hates talking in front of the class. He hates it with all his core, because he yearns for interesting, constructive criticism, but the dumbasses in his class are too fucking afraid of him to say anything negative about his work, which in turn prompts the professor to point at his mistakes and make them seem worse than they should appear. It wasn’t so bad, he still knows he’ll get a decent grade, but the whole thing is disappointing. He usually doesn’t mind when people leave him alone, hell, he prefers it that way, but sometimes it gets annoying.

    So here he is, dragging his feet on the floor to his next class, when a shoulder softly bumps into his. He lifts up his glare, ready to send whoever dared touch him to go fuck themselves, but the words die in his throat when he takes in the bright smile and fluffy pink hair.

    “Hi, Yoongi!” Jimin greets him happily. “I brought you coffee, thought you could use it,” he adds, holding out a steaming paper cup.

    Yoongi’s brain struggles to understand what the hell is happening, his hand grabbing the cup automatically, before he eyes the beverage with a suspicious face. Jimin laughs - is it legal to laugh like that before noon, seriously? Yoongi still feels like it’s barely dawn - and nods eagerly towards the cup.

    “Just black coffee, because I didn’t know how you liked it, but I have sugar and creamer if you want some,” he offers.

    “Why?” Yoongi manages to croak, still not believing Park Jimin , of all people, would hand him coffee in the middle of a crowded corridor.

    Park Jimin, the sweetest, cutest guy on campus, one of the most popular dance majors, handing him coffee. Yoongi already feels the curious glances on them, but Jimin seems oblivious, his grin still in place as he shrugs.

    “As thanks for yesterday? I’d still be roaming the streets without you,” he explains. “Come on, it’s not poisoned, it’s just coffee. I’m starting to feel awkward.”

    Finally, Yoongi brings the cup to his lips and takes a sip, can’t resist closing his eyes in relief. He hasn’t had time for coffee before leaving Namjoon’s room and running straight to his presentation, so this first cup feels like a piece of heaven.

    “Thank you, Jimin, I really needed that,” he finally breathes, offering him a teeny, tiny smile.

    “You’re welcome,” Jimin waves him off while sipping at his own drink. “How’d your presentation go?”

    “Fine, I guess?” Yoongi shrugs, not sure whether Jimin actually cares.

    He’s not used to small talk, especially not here on campus. No one ever talks to him, except Namjoon when he manages to get some free time, which is bordering on never these days. He sort of hopes Jimin will stop, because the people surrounding them are staring more and more openly and he really doesn’t want that. Fate must be on his side for now, because the teacher arrives and ushers them into the room. Jimin grins at him one last time before scurrying off to his seat next to his friend, who’s talking to him with wild hand gestures. Probably asking what the hell Jimin was thinking, offering coffee to Min fucking Yoongi.

    Well, Min fucking Yoongi shuffles to his own seat at the back of the classroom, takes out his notebook and keeps sipping at his drink. Jimin did seem sincere when thanking him for the night before. Yoongi just hopes he won’t get shit because he dared talk to him, but he probably won’t do it again, so it doesn’t matter much. Yoongi helped him once, Jimin thanked Yoongi, and that’s that. There’s no reason why Jimin would keep talking to him, and it’s perfectly fine.

    The thing is, Jimin keeps talking to him. And bringing him coffee. Every tuesday and friday morning, before their common class begins, Jimin will come greet him with his sunny grin and a cup of black coffee, ask about his work or whatever and tell him about his own, apparently not minding that Yoongi can barely make two-word sentences without stuttering.

    It should anger him, Yoongi thinks dimly while Jimin’s smile slowly destroys his barely-awake brain. Anyone daring to approach him at ass o’clock in the morning and making small talk would be sent back to oblivion with the sheer force of Yoongi’s scowl, but Jimin… Jimin seems immune to any kind of scowl Yoongi sends his way. Not that Yoongi tries very hard. He’s not sure what he’s done to deserve Jimin’s company. Half of him wants to run and hide, while the other half purrs in the sunlight that is Jimin’s presence. A few neurons at the back of his head wonder whether the whole thing is somehow a bad prank and will end up with Jimin laughing at him. Seems unlikely, since no one ever dared to make fun of Yoongi, but Jimin is reckless enough to talk to him, so…

    Yoongi pushes the thought away, focusing on his meal while Namjoon chomps on his food, nose buried into his book, but Jimin comes back running to the front of his mind when the guy actually walks through the cafeteria.

    “Joon, do you know who Park Jimin is?” Yoongi absent-mindedly asks as he watches Jimin laugh at something his friends must have said.

He earns half a groan around a mouthful of rice, then Namjoon slowly raises his face out of the tiny print he’s reading, adjusts his glasses and stares at Yoongi.

    “Hmm?”

    “Did you hear me?” Yoongi insists, not quite sure he wants to ask again. He doesn’t know what pushed him to talk.

    “Yeah, just… gimme a sec, this damn business jurisdiction stuff is giving me one hell of a headache,” Namjoon grumbles, rubbing his temples. “Course I know who Park Jimin is, although I’ve never talked to the guy. Isn’t he that dance dude Hobi won’t shut up about?”

    Yoongi quirks a brow. He doesn’t recall Hoseok ever mentioning him, but he hasn’t actually seen Hoseok since the beginning of the year.

    “Possibly,” he mutters. “What do you know about him?”

    Namjoon seems to think for a bit, before he frowns at Yoongi.

    “Same as everyone, I guess. Nice guy, popular, friends with half the university? And according to Hobi, one of the best students he’s ever had? Why are you so interested in him?”

    “I’m not interested . I… He’s in my history of art class. He’s been bringing me coffee twice a week for maybe a month and I have no idea what to make of it. I mean, he’s got actual friends and all, why would he do that?”

    Yoongi is genuinely puzzled, but Namjoon bursts out laughing, dropping his chopsticks in the process.

    “Oh my God,” he wheezes. “Park Jimin has been bringing coffee to you ? Does he want to die or something?”

    “Shut it, Joon. You know I’m not-”

    “Yeah, yeah,” the law student waves him off. “But he doesn’t. Wow, gotta admit, he has some guts.”

    Yoongi curses under his breath.

    “You’re not helpful,” he grumbles, his cold tone helping Namjoon to sober up.

    “Well, I only see two options,” he offers when his breath is back under control. “Either this guy is oblivious to any kind of rumours and has decided to make friends with you on a whim, which seems a tiny bit unlikely, or he has a thing for bad boys and got himself a crush on you.”

    Yoongi lets his head fall and bangs his forehead on the table.

    “Lord help me, I can’t let Park Jimin have a crush on me ,” he moans. “I can barely keep my eyes open when he smiles, I think he’s radioactive or something. And he’s gonna get so much shit if he keeps this up, I’ve already heard people from our common lectures talk. I want my solitude back.”

    Namjoon pats his back with an amused sigh.

    “Alright, drama queen, I gotta run. Try not to get blinded next time you see him.”

    Yoongi shoos his friend away without lifting his head. Damn. He’s perfectly aware of his own shitty reputation and he’s one hundred percent sure Jimin knows about it, too. Next time Jimin brings him coffee, Yoongi swears he’ll tell him to stop. Jimin has friends , and good grades, and plenty of people love him. He shouldn’t throw that away. Yoongi doesn’t need the company, and he doesn’t want Jimin to be disliked because he hangs out with him. 

    Yoongi doesn’t even have to wait for their next common lecture to get a chance to drive Jimin away from him. He’s leaving the university after his last class of the day, hands shoved deep in his pockets and hoping he can make it home without being disturbed, when the sound of someone running comes behind him, calling him with a voice he begins to know all too well.

    “Wait, Yoongi!”

    Yoongi sighs, hesitates, then stops and turns around. He’s a few streets away from the campus already, the chances of getting caught talking to Jimin are weak, so he lets the dancer catch up and gives him an interrogative look when he reaches him.

    “Hah, damn, you’re quick,” Jimin pants. “Been running after you for a while, but I guess you couldn’t hear me.”

    “Why would you run after me? Did I drop something?” Yoongi asks.

    His puzzled look elicits a breathless giggle from Jimin as they start walking again.

    “No, silly! Just wanted to chat, y’know? I’m going to the dance studio and it seems we’re headed in the same direction, so…”

    “But why would you want to chat with me?” Yoongi insists, almost bewildered by Jimin’s enthusiasm.

    Said enthusiasm seems to cool down a bit, and Jimin shrugs.

    “Cause I enjoy it?”

    Yoongi just stares. At this point, he’s half-convinced Jimin comes from outer space, like that guy he always hangs out with, Kim something. The dance student frowns, apparently put off by Yoongi’s silence.

    “Am I annoying you?” he quietly asks.

    He seems so disappointed, with his little pout and sad eyes, Yoongi can’t bring himself to take the easy way out and say yes.

    “No, you’re not,” he mumbles. “It’s just… Why do you bother? I’m not that interesting.”

    “But you are,” Jimin counters, his smile back in full force. “You were so nice the other day, walking me home and letting me listen to your awesome music and all, I thought I’d like to become your friend? I mean, maybe I’m not the kind of person you want as a friend, but…”

    Yoongi swallows hard. Is Jimin really allowed to be so damn cute and bouncy?

    “You’re…” he tries. “It’s not that I don’t want to be friends with you, Jimin, but… I don’t think you should. I’m no good, while you’re a good student and- and I don’t want you to have problems because you talk to me,” he explains lamely, unable to explicitly state that their respective reputations are pretty much polar opposites.

    “Awww,” Jimin cooes, eyes twinkling. “Are you worried that people might reject me because I hang out with you?”

    “Yes?”

    “You’re cute ,” Jimin grins, effectively stopping Yoongi’s breath.

    Park Jimin has just called him cute. The universe must be broken. Yoongi ducks his chin, feeling heat creep up his cheeks.

    “I’m a grumpy piece of shit, is what I am,” he grumbles, trying to hide the embarrassment.

    Jimin giggles again, his hand covering his mouth.

    “No you’re not,” he chirps. “In fact, I have a theory that you’re actually a cat.”

    “A cat?”

    “Yeah! Like you’re independent and almost always alone ‘cause you can take care of yourself, and you don’t seem to like people too much, but some days when I give you coffee, you have this kind of sleepy smile, it looks like you’re gonna start purring.”

    Yoongi gapes at him, and suddenly Jimin blushes, hiding his face behind his palms.

    “Oh shit, what am I saying? Sorry, I didn’t mean- I-” he stammers, and Yoongi laughs .

    This is too surreal.

    “Your theory kinda works, I suppose,” he grins.

    Jimin stops hiding, his cheeks still flushed, and mirrors his smile.

    “Sorry,” he repeats. “Sometimes my mouth ignores my brain and just blurts random stuff out.”

    “Funny random stuff,” Yoongi corrects.

    Jimin playfully shoves his shoulder, not looking at him, but then grabs his arm and sends him a soft smile and gaze that make Yoongi’s mind stutter to a halt.

    “Y’know, I really don’t give a shit what people say about me. Or about you, for that matter. I never thought half of it was true, and I’m more and more convinced none of it is. So don’t worry, yeah? Just- tell me if I ever bother you. I know I’m a bit overbearing at times, so…”

    “You don’t bother me,” Yoongi manages to breathe. “I’m just… bad with people. I don’t want to scare you away or hurt you or anything, but I might.”

    Jimin shrugs.

    “I’m tougher than I look,” he says calmly.

    He stops walking, and Yoongi notices they’ve reached Hoseok’s studio. For a second, he considers coming in to greet his friend, but he has loads of homework to do and Hobi is the worst chatterbox in existence, so he ditches the idea as soon as it appears.

    “Well… I guess I’ll see you tomorrow in class?” he hesitates, not quite daring to look Jimin in the eye.

    “Yeah,” the dancer smiles. “Bye, Yoongi, t’was nice talking to you.”

oOo

    Jimin cannot suppress his grin as he enters the changing room of the studio. He’s feeling giddy from his conversation with Yoongi, having finally mustered the courage to actually talk to him rather than just making idle chit-chat before their lectures. Jimin isn’t exactly shy, but he knows he has a tendency to put his foot in his mouth and he had a feeling Yoongi was someone he should be careful with. Not because the music student might have lashed out at him, but rather to not scare him off. Which is funny, since Yoongi, too, was afraid of scaring Jimin off.  What a pair of idiots, Jimin thinks fondly. He’s so, so curious about Yoongi. How can this cutie have such a shitty reputation? Has anyone ever tried talking to him? Yoongi has been nothing but gentle and caring and sweet, ever since Jimin properly met him. So, how?

    He’s the first student to enter the practice room, and Hoseok greets him with a happy wave from the corner where he’s seated with his laptop.

    “Jiminie! You look happy,” he exclaims, a wide smile on his face.

    Jimin bites his lower lip, suppressing a giggle.

    “I’ve had the best day, and it’s not even finished,” he answers, sitting cross-legged in front of his teacher, starting to slowly warm up his neck and shoulder by rolling them. “I’ve made a new friend and he’s the cutest .”

    Hoseok chuckles, his eyes twinkling.

    “Ooh, someone has a crush,” he teases. “Tell me everything, we’ve got some time before the others get here!”

    Jimin laughs at Hobi’s eagerness. They met at the end of the previous school year, when Hoseok came to the last showcase of the dance students to recruit some of them for his little studio. He was impressed by Jimin’s performance and offered him a spot, which Jimin happily accepted. Jung Hoseok had been one of his street-dance idols for quite some time already, and during the few months he spent learning from him, they developed a strong friendship.

    “It’s not a crush,” he mock-pouts, “...yet. Actually, you might know him? His name is Min Yoongi.”

    At that, Hoseok’s eyes grow impossibly wide and he crumbles into a fit of laughter.

    “Oh my God, Jiminie,” he pants, desperately trying to sober up. “Did you just say Min Yoongi is the ‘cutest’?”

    “What’s so funny? D’you know him or what?” Jimin grumbles, a bit surprised by Hobi’s outburst.

    “Oh, my, I wasn’t ready for that,” the dance teacher says, clutching at his heart, an awed expression on his face. “Yeah, I’ve known Yoongi for a long time, I’m a childhood friend of one of his friends, long story short, we met several years ago. So you find him cute?”

    Jimin smiles, relieved that Hoseok didn’t spout nonsense about Yoongi being dangerous or something equally preposterous.

    “He’s downright adorable,”Jimin admits. “I mean, I don’t know him all that well yet, but he walked me home after I got lost the other day, and I was so stunned because all I knew was that bullshit reputation he has, but he was all nice and quiet and a bit funny! And then I’ve been trying to approach him, we have classes together so I brought him coffee a few times, and tonight he walked with me here and he was all worried that I might get in trouble because I talked to him, heck, it was too sweet,” he says without breathing, earning a new laugh from Hoseok.

    “Ah, well, the way to Yoongi’s heart is through coffee indeed, you’ve had a good hunch there. Iced americanos, if you want to go straight to the point,” he chuckles. “But to be honest, I’m happy you feel this way about him. He acts all casual when people talk shit about him, but I know he’s lonely, what with me here and Namjoon drowning in his PhD work.”

    Jimin shrugs.

    “I guessed so. He seems to be really shy, more than anything else. Since you’ve known him so long, do you know why he has such a bad reputation?”

    Hobi purses his lips, leaning back on his hands, and cocks his head to the side.

    “Rumours are always wilder than the truth,” he muses thoughtfully. “He is shy, you’re right about that, so he keeps mostly to himself, but he’s quick to snap when he’s not at ease with people. I suppose that, with the fact that he comes from a ratty place, and his overall style… I mean, he does look the part, and you haven’t even seen him two years ago with his bleached hair.”

    “People are cunts,” Jimin grumbles, trying not to imagine Yoongi with bleached hair instead of black.

    “Yup. I’m glad he has you, Jiminie. Take care of him, yeah? And bring him here some day, I haven’t seen him in ages.”

    After talking to Hoseok, Jimin is all the more determined to get to know Yoongi better. He finds it so unfair that the music student would be rejected like that by everyone based on lies. When he greeted Yoongi with another cup of coffee this morning, he had the cutest grin on his face, and Jimin blessed Taehyung for always being late to class and leaving him time with Yoongi.

    He has no such luck at noon, when he spots Yoongi eating by himself and considers joining him, because Taehyung waves at him to come sit with Jungkook and himself.

    “Chimchim!” he calls, and Jimin can only join his friends.

    He drops his bag on the table to rummage for his lunchbox, and collapses on his chair with a sigh. Dance practice the night before was exhausting.

    “Hi guys,” he groans when his thighs protest at the effort.

    “Can I ask you something, Chim?” Jungkook mumbles, his mouth full.

    Jimin rolls his eyes.

    “If you don’t spit your food onto my plate, yeah, what’s up?”

    “Taetae said you’ve been talking to Min Yoongi a lot these days. Is everything alright?”

    The dance student just stares, perplexed by the question.

    “What do you mean?” he hesitates, and Taehyung crosses his arms.

    “You can tell us, you know? If you’re in trouble,” he offers. “Do you owe him or something? What business do you have with him?”

    Annoyance quickly rises inside Jimin’s chest. He’d let it slide, were it coming from anyone else, but Tae and Kookie?

    “Of course everything’s alright. I talk to him ‘cause I want to. He’s my friend,” he snaps defensively, and both his friends gape at him in shock.

    “Min Yoongi is your friend ?” Jungkook deadpans. “Come on, Jimin, you’re not serious. That guy’s trash.”

    “How do you know that? You’re not the one talking to him,” Jimin grumbles.

    “He looks like he just escaped from prison,” Jungkook insists.

    “Yeah, and Tae looks like he just escaped Fashion Week at the madhouse, but-”

    “But ‘Fashion Week at the madhouse’ is a pretty accurate description of my personality, too” Taehyung laughs airily, “so what’s your point? Actually, I might use that title for my next design project, thanks, Chimchim!”

    Jimin groans and slouches in his chair.

    “My point is, appearances and reputations don’t mean shit. Yoongi’s nice, trust me.”

    “Okay, okay,” Kookie relents, hands up in a surrendering pose. “You’ll have to introduce us, then.”

    “I like that attitude better,” Jimin grins. “But you’ll have to wait. He’s pretty shy, I’m not sure he’s ready for you two.”

    He chuckles at his friends’ half-pleading, half-offended expression.

    “What do you mean, ready for us? We’re the friendliest people on this planet.”
    “Yeah, and you’re also the weirdest. And you were badmouthing him two minutes ago, so you’ll have to be patient .”

    Taehyung and Jungkook pout for a while, but then the conversation rolls to other subjects and Jimin distractedly thinks that introducing his friends to Yoongi would be nice. Sure, they’re loud and silly, but they’re kind-hearted and they trust Jimin, so he knows they’ve already shrugged off their doubts about Yoongi. And Hoseok did say Yoongi could use some company. Jimin smiles, letting himself zone out of the discussion. He’ll have to get closer to Yoongi first, and then, he’ll make sure his reputation changes.

    So Jimin keeps the habit of bringing coffee to Yoongi every time they have common lectures, makes small talk, tries to understand his schedule so they can walk together to the dance studio. He notices a few more things about Yoongi that he was oblivious to before, too excited about making a new friend to actually pay attention.

    He notices Yoongi is always grumpier when they’re in public - on campus, specifically - but relaxes whenever they’re on their own. When they simply walk side by side and people around them are just strangers, Yoongi changes slightly. He smiles more often, a real smile rather than the tense smirk he tends to have at the university. It’s not that hard to understand. Jimin’s heart clenches a bit at the thought that Yoongi would try so hard to not be himself whenever he’s surrounded by potentially hostile people.

    He also notices that students look at him more. Whenever Jimin talks to Yoongi, he feels gazes on him, and those same gazes seem to follow him even when he’s on his own or with his friends. Slowly, he realises what Yoongi meant when he worried that their budding friendship might be trouble for Jimin. It’s not proper trouble yet, but some of the people he used to talk to sometimes can’t meet his eyes, or they look at him with a concerned expression, or even avoid him. It’s subtle, really, he would never have paid attention to it, had he not had this conversation with Yoongi. Jimin isn’t worried, exactly, but he does feel rather annoyed. They’re not in primary school anymore, dammit, but this kind of behavior seems so childish. Come on, who truly does believe those ludicrous rumours about Yoongi having had problems with the police? The more Jimin frequents Yoongi, the more he listens to the gossip and the more it sounds astoundingly dumb. People need to chill the fuck out and let others live.

    So Jimin ignores them, and continues to act as though everything is perfectly normal. He won’t let assholes get to him, and he won’t let them stop him from befriending Yoongi. It’s almost a challenge, now. Look at me being happy as fuck when I’m with him , he thinks. And he is - he is happy when he’s with Yoongi. Heck, he’s happy when he sees Yoongi’s not alone in the cafeteria, sitting with a guy Jimin can only assume is Namjoon. How can people not see Yoongi’s not a bad guy? How can they not look beyond the ripped jeans and heavy boots and piercings? They must be blind.

oOo

    Yoongi drops in the seat next to Namjoon’s with an exhausted groan. This morning was shit. His mother got sick over the week-end and was too tired to get up, so Yoongi had to take care of his little brother, which resulted in him missing the first lecture of the morning. Which wouldn’t be a big deal, honestly, Yoongi has skipped classes before and doesn’t feel too guilty about it - even though he tries to be as good a student as he can - but today’s first class was history of arts, which means he didn’t get to see Jimin’s bright smile and drink the coffee he must have brought and listen to his animated chit-chat. And it sucks.

    Only this morning has Yoongi realises how used to Jimin he has grown. How warm it makes him feel to have the dance student around and caring. He shouldn’t, really, still trying to convince himself Jimin is someday going to grow bored with him and just drop him, but it’s been two months now and Jimin is still there, every single time. And Yoongi has to admit it: he likes it. It’s so relaxing to be with Jimin, to be able to be a bit of himself without fear of being judged, to have someone take him just as he is and not try to make him change. Yoongi has that with Namjoon, and with Hoseok, but both guys are terribly busy.

    “You look like shit, man,” comes Namjoon’s voice near him.

    Yoongi opens his eyes wearily, and parts his lips to let out a sigh.

    “Thanks, Joon, you’re always so kind,” he deadpans, before telling his friend about what happened - leaving out the part where he missed Jimin. That, Namjoon doesn’t have to know.

    Yoongi slowly starts to eat, distractedly worrying about what he’s going to say to the professor about his absence, when a backpack falls on their table and draws his attention. He raises a glare, ready to suggest to the idiot they go do anatomically complicated things, and sees Namjoon do the same out of the corner of his eye.

    “Go fu…” he trails off, eyes widening.

    Jimin is standing there, and he’s not smiling at all. What.

    “Sorry, didn’t mean to drop it so heavily,” the dance student flails while gripping his bag. “You weren’t there this morning, Yoongi!”

    He sounds so concerned it’s bordering on motherly, and Yoongi frowns.

    “Are you here to lecture me because I skipped?” he manages dryly when he’s done gaping, and Jimin suddenly blushes.

    “What? No! No, of course not,” he exclaims. “I was just worried, is all! Are you alright?”

    Yoongi feels something warm spread in his chest, and he tries to ignore Namjoon’s smirk.

    “I’m good, Jimin, you don’t have to worry so much. I had to bring my kid brother to school and I was so late when I got here that I didn’t bother to join the class.”

    “Oh. Oh,” Jimin says, a small smile finally tugging at his lips.

    He rakes a hand through his pink hair, messing it up in an endearing way, and Yoongi can’t help but think it looks soft. He kinda wants to stroke it. It’s a weird thought, and he pushes it away before it can grow too much.

    “Sorry I jumped on you like that,” Jimin adds, before turning his head to Yoongi’s friend. “Sorry I interrupted your lunch, too. You must be Kim Namjoon?”

    The law student nods with a smile.

    “Aw, did Yoongi mention me? I’m flattered,” he drawls, visibly amused.

    “Shut it,” Yoongi grumbles, but he can’t keep his serious face with how cute Jimin looks, ruffled hair and all.

    “Nice to meet you, Jimin,” Namjoon continues like he wasn’t interrupted. “Wanna join us for lunch? We’ve barely started.”

    Jimin looks like he’s facing a terrible dilemma, and a few seconds later, he grimaces, sending a pang of disappointment to Yoongi’s gut. He’s going to refuse. It shouldn’t feel that bad, but missing two opportunities to talk to Jimin seems unfair.

    “Ah, I would’ve loved to, but I gotta dash. But first-” Jimin rummages through his bag and fishes out a few sheets of paper, “here, Yoongi. I took notes for you so you wouldn’t have trouble catching up on the course. My handwriting is a bit messy, but it should be readable.”

    Yoongi takes them, still gaping, while Jimin closes up his bag and flings it onto his shoulder.

    “I’m sorry, I really have to run. I’ll eat with you next time, promise!”

    And with that he’s off, leaving a dumbstruck Yoongi and a chuckling Namjoon behind.

    “Well, that was interesting,” the law student comments when Jimin’s pink hair disappears into the crowd.

    Yoongi hardly hears him, too busy smiling stupidly at the notes Jimin gave him. His handwriting is indeed a bit messy, as Yoongi quickly scans through them, but what has his heart beating faster is the line scrawled at the back of the last sheet. A series of digits, followed by “ text me if you have questions. If you don’t, text me anyway? :) ”.

    “Oh, he’s smooth,” Namjoon says, peering over Yoongi’s shoulder.

    The music student jumps and slams the sheets onto the table, hiding Jimin’s number.

    “Shut up, Joon.”

    “Just sayin’,” his friend shrugs with a smirk.

    Yoongi groans, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. Dammit, Jimin’s just being friendly, there’s no need to get overexcited. Friends exchange numbers, it’s just normal. But still. He’s got Jimin’s number. It’s… something new, having someone giving contact info to him - and acting like they want to be contacted.

    “Are you gonna text him, then?” Namjoon asks.

    “Why wouldn’t I?” Yoongi breathes. “Damn, Joonie, I’ve gotten myself a friend. Do you think it’s real? I’m kinda scared.”

    Namjoon does that thing with his face when he tries to pretend to be unfazed but is in truth really endeared by Yoongi.

    “It’s only gonna be real if you make it real,” he offers sagely. “Go for it, dude. He could be good for you.”

    Yoongi waits until the evening, when he’s back at home and alone in his tiny room, to take out Jimin’s note and save his number. He smiles at the various colors the dancer used to highlight specific parts of the lesson, and finds himself full of courage now that he realised how caring Jimin seems.

    He types out a few words on his phone and sends them, not quite hoping for an immediate response. His phone chimes but a few minutes later, and he scrambles to pick it up, looking at Jimin’s reply with a bitten back chuckle. Without even noticing it, he starts chatting with Jimin, smiling to himself.

    To: Jimin

    Hi, it’s Yoongi. I didn’t have time to thank you for the notes earlier, so, thanks.

    From: Jimin

    Hey *w* I was starting to think you didn’t see my number! Were you able to read everything? I’ve been told I write like I have no dominant hand...

    To: Jimin

    It’s not that bad

    I mean, that turquoise pen you used hurts my eyes, but otherwise it’s fine

    From: Jimin

    How ungrateful ! è_é

I’m wounded, this turquoise pen is my most prized possession ;-;

    (Kidding ^_^)

    To: Jimin

    I’m terribly sorry I insulted your pen. How can I make it up to you (and it)?

    From: Jimin

    Oooh, so many things I wanna ask >w<

    Let’s say you have to let me listen to you next song?

    To: Jimin

    I would have done that even if I didn’t owe you, so deal

    What else would you have wanted to ask, though? I’m curious now

    It’s so much easier to communicate like that, Yoongi thinks while he waits for Jimin to answer. No one around to gauge his face, to eavesdrop, to judge him. He has noticed the shocked looks Jimin gets when he’s near him. When he smiles at him. It’s infuriating, to see people act like that when all Jimin has done is be friendly with someone else.

    It’s even easier than being alone with Jimin. Sure, Yoongi has started to feel more and more at ease with him, not trying so hard to control himself, but he’s always scared of slipping and saying something wrong. Texts allow him time to think about his words without stammering, and it still feels like Jimin is right next to him. He can picture his bright grin, his fluffy hair, and almost hear his giggles.

    Yoongi’s heart stutters when he finally reads Jimin’s new message. New messages .

    From: Jimin

    Oh boy, so many things

    Come with me to the studio and say hi to Hoseok, he misses you (but that’s me you owe, not him, so…)

    Study with me for the HoA exam

    Tell me how you work on your compositions

    Have coffee with me - in an actual coffee shop, not in five minutes before class?

    Did… Did Jimin just ask him out for coffee? Yoongi shakes his head, tries to stop the wild thoughts that cross his mind. Friends go for coffee. It’s not a date, dammit. Nevermind that all the other suggestions imply being alone with Jimin (except the one with Hobi, but then again, it’s not about him right now). The music student forces his breath to remain slow and deep. He rubs his face, sighs, and reads Jimin’s texts again. Why does he feel so shaken by the idea of a date with Jimin? Okay, that’s a stupid question. Jimin is kind, funny, interesting and drop dead gorgeous. Yoongi’s not blind, for fuck’s sake.

    Not blind, but oh-so socially inadequate. Jimin offered friendship, and all Yoongi managed to do was start wanting more. Or is he just over-analysing things? Shit. Sometimes this feels like it’s not worth the trouble. It’s easier to be alone. It’s easier with Namjoon, whom he’s known ever since before people started thinking of Yoongi as evil. It’s easier with Hobi, who’s the fucking embodiment of love. Jimin… Jimin is not that easy. Jimin is so bright, so popular, so freaking high above Yoongi he’s not even sure how he hasn’t burned yet, from the proximity of such sunlight.

    And now he’s getting sappy and poetic. And he’s taking way too long to answer Jimin’s text. So long that Jimin has sent new ones.

    From: Jimin

    Hey

    You alive?

    Those were just suggestions

    I’m sorry

    Told you I was overbearing sometimes

    Yoongi breathes through his nose, closes his eyes for a second and types an answer.

    To: Jimin

    Calm down

    I just-

    Shit. Please don’t laugh.

    The last time I went out for coffee with someone was three fucking years ago

    And it was with my cousin, back in Daegu

    It sounds so fucking pathetic. Min Yoongi, so damn unloved and feared no one dared or wanted to go out with him in three years. Why the hell did he tell Jimin that? But the dancer’s answer once again surprises him.

    From: Jimin

    This is unacceptable

    Tomorrow is saturday

    We’re going out, that’s no longer a suggestion

    To: Jimin

    What the hell

    From: Jimin

    I know a nice place halfway between the campus and Hoseok’s studio

    I usually go there after my week-end practice, and there aren’t too many students, so don’t worry about that

    Meet me at the studio around 1pm so we’ll walk there together? They sell sandwiches, too, and the owner makes the best. fucking. cupcakes. in town. *ç*

    Yoongi swallows hard.

    To: Jimin

    I’ll be there

oOo

    When Jimin gets out of the changing room, he’s almost flying off the ground with excitation. He’s seen Yoongi through the window, leaning against the wall with his headphones on his ears and a blank expression on his face. Jimin hopes he’ll manage to make that expression change into that sweet grin he likes so much.

    “Enjoy your date,” Hoseok teases as he watches Jimin hurriedly lace up his boots.

    “It’s not a date ,” he mumbles. “Not exactly. We’re going as friends. Well. Not that we’ve specified that. But I don’t wanna rush him. So it’s not a date.”

    Hobi laughs.

    “In that case, am I allowed to pop outside to say hi? I didn’t want to crash your moment, but since you’re going ‘as friends’...” he makes air quotes, a smirk still stretching his lips.

    Jimin just shakes his head and skips to the door, opening it wide and leaping outside. A startled Yoongi is watching him with wide eyes and a small smile, pushing himself upright.

    “You’re way too energetic,” he greets him with a little wave of his fingers.

    “I’m on fire,” Jimin giggles. “Hi, Yoongi.”

    “Hey,” Yoongi answers softly.

    He looks a bit nervous, and Jimin takes a few seconds to watch him, grin growing on his lips. Yoongi has clearly made an effort on his appearance; his light-wash jeans are not ripped at the knees, his black hoodie has no bleach stains, and his hair is actually combed. Jimin’s glad he made an effort too, and suddenly, it kinda looks like a date. Until Hoseok slips through the door too and jumps on Yoongi to hug him tight.

    “What-”

    “Yoongiiiii,” the dance teacher shouts. “I’m so happy to see you! How have you been?”

    Hoseok lets go, his hands still on Yoongi’s shoulders. The music student seems a bit bewildered, but a happy grin soon appears.

    “Hey, Hobi. Long time no see,” he mutters. “I’m good. You?”

    “I’m great, oh man, I don’t have time to catch up right now, but promise you’ll come see me soon? And bring Namjoon, dammit, he’s going into full-on hermit mode these days. Jimin, you’re welcome to join us, yeah? Oh, I’m so hyped now. I’ll call you!”

    Without giving Yoongi enough time to answer - or even process his whole sentences - Hoseok disappears back into his building with his thumbs up. Jimin can’t help but chuckle.

    “Tell me again how I’m too energetic.”

    “I have never said such a thing,” Yoongi innocently says. “Okay, where to, then?”

    “Right ahead, sir!”

    Jimin grabs Yoongi’s arm and drags him a few streets from the dance studio, to a small café half crushed between two tall buildings. The exterior doesn’t tell much, but as soon as they enter, Jimin can see Yoongi’s eyes widening. This place is no mere Starbucks. It looks a little old-fashioned, with warm wooden tables scattered across the room and worn out leather chairs. The counter has a polished copper decoration along the border, until the wooden structure meets a glass display full of pastries.

    There are few customers at this time of day, as Jimin knew. He chose this place not only because he likes it, but because he thought Yoongi would feel more at ease away from the campus and the people who hate him. An old man with a newspaper, a mother with a toddler, a small group of teenage girls whisper-giggling: harmless.

    “Ta-dah”, Jimin exclaims in a low voice, guiding Yoongi to the counter.

    “This… this is nice,” the music student comments distractedly.

    Jimin smiles and leans against the wood. A tall man in an apron comes out of the backroom, and the dancer waves at him happily.

    “Hello, Seokjin!”

    “Jimin,” the owner greets. “The usual?”

    “Mmh, yes, please. Yoongi, what do you want? I’m buying,” he says, turning to Yoongi.

    What Jimin had not planned was Seokjin's sharp intake of breath and heavy stare on Yoongi.

    “Oooooh, Jimin, is it him ?” he asks excitedly, and Jimin suddenly wants to disappear into the ground.

    He feels a bright blush cover his cheeks and he lets out a nervous giggle, glancing at Yoongi’s surprised face.

    “Don’t embarrass me, Jin,” Jimin mutters. “Yeah, it’s him. Yoongi, this is Seokjin, the owner. Seokjin, this is my friend Yoongi.”

    Jin shakes Yoongi’s hand over the counter, his smile impossibly wide.

    “Jimin can’t shut up about you. Welcome to my café. What can I serve you?”

    Yoongi eyes Jimin carefully, seeming stunned into silence until he clears his throat and speaks, voice unsure.

    “It’s… It’s nice to meet you. I, uh… I’ll have an iced americano, if you make those? And Jimin’s told me you have the best cupcakes in town, so I guess I have to try that.”

    Jin seems to glow at the praise and nods enthusiastically.

    “One iced americano, on it. As for the cupcakes, I made strawberry-chocolate, peanuts and banana, and blueberry with vanilla frosting.”

    “I’ll have a peanut and banana one,” Yoongi answers, and Jimin squeezes his arm approvingly.

    “You’re right, those are the best,” he says as he hands Jin the money.

    “Go have a seat, I’ll be right there,” Jin gestures them over, and Jimin smiles at him before pulling Yoongi to his favorite table, the one in the corner, where he sits back to a wall. Yoongi sits with his back to the other wall, not quite facing him but not quite next to him either. Jimin likes this spot, because he likes watching people and being next to a wall feels somehow comforting. Safe. He hopes Yoongi feels that way, too.

    “I’m sorry about Jin,” Jimin whispers. “He’s a little obnoxious sometimes, but he’s nice.”

    “Did you really tell him about me?” Yoongi asks, a bit too warily for Jimin’s taste.

    “Yeah… You might have noticed I’m a damn chatterbox. Can’t help it, when I’m excited about something, I have to share it, and Jin happens to be a good listener.”

    Yoongi seems to relax a bit, but his face is still puzzled.

    “Do you mean… you’re excited about… me?”

    He says it like it’s the weirdest idea he could ever think of, and Jimin’s heart breaks a little. Is Yoongi so used to his reputation and loneliness he has actually started questioning his own worth?

    “Of course I am,” Jimin smiles. “Who wouldn’t be excited about having a new friend?”

    “You have plenty of friends,” Yoongi counters. “What’s one more?”

    Oh boy. This is even worse than Jimin had imagined. He shakes his head in disbelief.

    “It doesn’t work like that. And I don’t have that many, you know? I mean, I get along with people, but it doesn’t mean I’m close to them. Honestly, besides Taehyung and Jungkook, there’s no one I’m really intimate with. The next ones I can think of are Hoseok, maybe Jin, and you.”

    “You’re kidding,” Yoongi breathes. “We barely know each other.”

    “That’s why I’m excited,” Jimin chuckles. “We barely know each other, and yet I feel close to you. Is it weird? Am I being overbearing again?” he adds, suddenly worried, but Yoongi softly shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips.

    “It’s not weird. I’m excited, too. I’m just… not used to it.”

    Jimin lets out a relieved sigh.

    “I’m glad you’re excited too. Ah, here they come, the best cupcakes in town!”

    And indeed, Jin reaches them with a tray and smiles as he places their orders on the table.

    “One iced coffee, one hot chocolate with whipped cream, and two peanuts and banana cupcakes. Enjoy!” he sing-songs before going back to his counter.

    “Cheers,” Jimin says, raising his mug a little and taking a sip, licking the cream off of his upper lip without noticing Yoongi’s eyes following the movement.

    For a while, they drink and eat in silence. Jimin’s effort during practice finally settles in and tiredness seeps through his muscles, but the sugar intake helps - and he wouldn’t let anything get in the way of his time with Yoongi.

    “Namjoon would love these,” the music student mutters after he swallows his first bite of cupcake. “It’s so good, and I don’t even have a sweet tooth!”

    “Right?” Jimin laughs.

    Yoongi chuckles, too, but then his face goes sort of serious and his grin fades into a soft smile.

    “Thanks for inviting me here, Jimin.”

    “Don’t mention it. I’m happy you came.”

    They have a great time in Jin’s café. Jimin smoothly orients the conversation to music, and soon, Yoongi loosens up and tells him about his new composition project. They share headphones to listen to his tracks, even the works in progress, and Yoongi actually seems to enjoy Jimin’s insight on those. In turn, he asks about Jimin’s dancing, and Jimin is too happy to answer, telling him about the day he met Hoseok at a university showcase.

    They talk and talk, joke together, and don’t even notice when Jin sweeps in to bring them extra cupcakes. Jimin falls just a little bit harder, melting each time he manages to make Yoonmin laugh his low, raspy laugh and smile until his gums show and his eyes close. It’s so good to see him like this, carefree, his sulky persona from university long forgotten.

    They stay until it’s dark outside and Jin has to tell them, in a sad voice, that it’s time for him to close the shop. They thank him profusely and start walking aimlessly through mostly empty streets, until they reach a point Jimin remembers. They’re halfway between the campus and Yoongi’s neighbourhood. They stop, and Yoongi fidgets with the hem of his sleeves, looking at the pavement.

    “I had a nice time with you,” he whispers, glancing at Jimin through his lashes.

    “Me too. We have to do that again, yeah?”

    “Yeah. See you next week, then?”

    Jimin nods. He sort of wants to kiss Yoongi, but he doesn’t want to risk putting an awkward end to this perfect afternoon - heck, he doesn’t even know if Yoongi might be interested in boys - so he settles for a hug. He squeezes Yoongi against him for a few seconds, breathing in his scent - leather, coffee, something akin to mint - and steps back, a wide grin on his face.

    “See you next week, Yoongi.”

oOo

    Everything seems to go swimmingly well for some time. Winter slowly settles in, covering the city with a shiny, frosty look. Yoongi starts to think maybe this school year might not be as bad as the previous ones. He even manages to meet one of Jimin’s friends, Taehyung, and the guy just acts natural - as natural as an octopus from outer space can behave, at least.

    It’s one of those mornings Yoongi doesn’t even mind getting out of bed because he knows it means seeing Jimin and idly chatting with him around coffee before their lecture. They’re in the middle of their conversation when Taehyung appears out of nowhere, engulfing Jimin in a tight hug from behind; the dancer yelps, almost dropping his cup, but his friend seems unable to give a single shit.

    “Chimchim!” he chirps happily. “You need to congratulate me, right now!”

    “For almost burning me with boiling hot coffee, or for interrupting my conversation?” Jimin deadpans, rolling his eyes.

    Taehyung disentangles himself from Jimin and huffs, pushing his hair back from his bandana-clad forehead. Once more, Yoongi wonders how this guy manages to pull this style off.

    “No, for being on time, silly,” Taehyung pouts. “First time this year. I deserve praise.”

    Jimin chuckles, and shoots Yoongi an amused glance.

    “Took long enough, but congrats, Taetae.”

    “Thank you,” the student slightly bows. “Now I demand that you introduce me to your friend, Chimchim, you’ve been keeping him all to yourself for way too long.”

    Yoongi raises a brow in surprise. It’s not that he didn’t expect Jimin to introduce him to his friends some day, and Taehyung seems weird enough that he wouldn’t mind meeting Yoongi , but still, he wasn’t ready to hear him demand to be introduced. It’s like Jimin evolves in a completely different universe than Yoongi, where people are open-minded and a tad strange.

    Jimin shakes his head and pats Taehyung’s shoulder.

    “Okay, okay. Y’know you could have met him earlier if you had been on time those last months, yeah?” he teases. “Taetae, this is Yoongi, he’s in music prod and he composes awesome stuff. Yoongi, this is Taehyung, graphic design major and my friend for… phew, stopped counting, it’s been so long!”

    Yoongi tentatively shakes Taehyung’s hand, the guy sending him a blinding, rectangular grin, like he’s just been handed the moon.

    “Jimin has been talking my ears off about you,” he declares. “It’s nice to finally meet you, the reason for my deafness.”

    “Seems lots of people have lost ears because of Jimin’s talking, but hey, that’s how we like him,” Yoongi offers, earning a playful slap on the arm from the dancer.

    “Hey!” he protests with a giggle. “You didn’t complain too much till now!”

    “Wasn’t talking about myself, but Hobi and Jin. It’s half my fault, since you talk about me,” Yoongi smiles, trying to keep his cool. “Nice to meet you, Taehyung. I do know a bit of sign language, should you need me to use it.”

    Taehyung bursts out laughing, and Yoongi sighs in relief. He hoped Jimin’s friend would have a sense of humour, and he clearly does.

    “Oh, shit,” he wheezes. “Chimchim, he’s perfect, please keep him.”

    Jimin grins brightly and briefly squeezes Yoongi’s free hand in his.

    “Was planning to, Taetae.”

    And just like that, Yoongi finds himself becoming Taehyung’s friend. He looks at Jimin, still feeling the warmth of his hand on his skin, and wonders what he did to deserve such happiness.

    Except not everything goes swimmingly well. It’s a freezing cold day, and Yoongi just left Jimin at Hoseok’s studio. It’s already dark outside, even though it’s barely 6pm, and he walks briskly in an attempt to warm himself up. He has to go grocery shopping before going home, and that’s when it happens.

    He’s at the register, dreaming about a searing hot shower, when a commotion outside the shop pulls him out of his scalding water reverie. Hoping to avoid trouble, he shoves his stuff inside his backpack and pulls his hood up before he exits the store, but stops dead in his tracks when he sees that what’s happening is not just two crackheads arguing over a few coins. It’s a fucking armed thief against a kid.

    The kid has guts, Yoongi has to admit, fists raised and head ducked into his shoulders, but the robber has him cornered against a wall and Yoongi can see blood on his temple. Anger flares up inside him. What kind of asshole would attack a child, dammit-

    “Gimme your wallet, brat,” the dickhead orders in a slurry voice.

    Drunk , Yoongi thinks dimly, before stepping between the two.

    “Leave him alone,” he firmly states, grabbing the hand holding a small knife.

    The man is stronger than Yoongi - it’s not that difficult, considering Yoongi’s size and love for exercise - but he’s clearly not sober, so the student manages to dodge the first two blows, landing one of his own against the thief’s ribs. But drunk as he is, the guy is angry, and he manages to slip away from Yoongi’s grasp. His blade swings, reaching Yoongi’s forearm, and his free hand hits Yoongi square in the jaw.

    “Fuck,” he breathes, avoiding the next attack, tasting blood on his lips already.

    He knows he won’t get help in this place, unless the shopkeeper decides to call the police. Fucking jungle. He jumps away from the thief again and kicks his hand, sighing in relief when he drops the knife. It’s fists against fists now, and he’s alone, because the kid has taken the smart way out and disappeared. It’s both good - because now the child is safe, or safer at least - and bad - because if the police arrives, Yoongi won’t have anyone to back him up for fighting in the street.

    Sirens indeed start blaring the moment the robber hits Yoongi’s cheekbone. For a second, they look at each other, eyes wide, then they both start running in opposite directions. 

    Yoongi somehow manages to escape the police. As soon as he’s two streets away, he stops running and wipes the blood from his mouth. He thanks the god of leather jackets for having protected his arm, even though the wide slash in the material pisses him off. Still, it’s better to have to sew his clothes back up than his skin. When he gets home, he drops his bag in the kitchen and runs to lock himself up in the bathroom to clean his wound, wincing as cold water touches his cut lip.

    “Fuck,” he whispers.

    It doesn’t show much yet, but he knows his cheekbone will soon be a pretty mix of purples and blues. Shit. He’d avoided fights for half a year now. He fears the reactions he might get at the university. Imagines the newly fueled rumours. The disappointment in Jimin’s eyes. Somehow the latter hurts more.

    When he reaches the classroom the next day, scarf covering his face all the way to his nose and beanie pushing his hair on his cheeks and forehead, he vaguely hopes no one will notice. He knows it’s pointless, really, but when Jimin appears in front of him he can’t help but duck his head even more.

    “Heyo!” his friend sing-songs, holding out the usual steaming cup.

    “Hi,” Yoongi whispers, barely audible, not making a movement to take the drink.

    Jimin steps closer to him, and Yoongi can see through his lashes that his face is scrunched up in a worried expression.

    “Are you alright, Yoongi?” he softly asks.

    No escape from there. Yoongi feels his eyes sting, but he swallows hard and straightens up.

    “Could feel better,” he croaks, finally reaching for his coffee.

    Jimin’s eyes widen at the sight.

    “What the hell happened to you?!” he exclaims, a bit too loudly, making Yoongi wince.

    Before he can tell Jimin to shut up, the dancer’s hand rises and suddenly, Jimin’s fingers are lightly cupping his chin. They’re so close, Yoongi can feel his breath on his face, the sweet smell of cocoa enveloping him. Jimin’s thumb lightly strokes his lower lip. Yoongi barely dares to breathe. He knows all eyes are on them. Panic slowly churns in his gut when Jimin murmurs.

    “Does it hurt?”

    “Like a bitch,” Yoongi mutters, trying to control his voice. “Jimin, everyone’s looking at us, please-”

    The dancer flinches and steps back, his face apologetic. The professor chooses this exact moment to arrive, whistling a tune that is way too jolly for this fucking morning, and Jimin all but leaps on him. Yoongi stares in wonder as the dancer’s features turn in a subtle mix of concern and charm.

    “Professor, I’m sorry, but Min Yoongi and I are going to have to miss your class, he clearly needs to go to the infirmary and seeing his state, I cannot decently let him go on his own. I hope it’s not too much trouble,” he half-begs, a small pout on his lips.

    “Oh, uh,” the teacher mumbles, scratching his balding head and glancing at Yoongi, who does his best to look miserable (not too hard). “Of course, mister Park. Make sure you come to my office later today so I can hand you today’s course.”

    “Oh, I wouldn’t want to trouble you, you must have loads of work with the upcoming exams,” Jimin flatters him shamelessly. “Just hand everything to Kim Taehyung, we’ll collect it from him.”

    “Alright. Go now, mister Min seems on the verge of collapsing,” the professor says, visibly charmed by Jimin’s little act. “Take care, both of you.”

    And just like that, Jimin grabs Yoongi’s arm and delicately tugs him away from the classroom. The music student follows, still dumbstruck, and only reacts when they leave the building and Jimin drags him towards the dorms.

    “We’re going the wrong way, Jimin,” he tries, but the dancer just shakes his head.

    “Oh come on, that was just bullshit for the prof. I bet you don’t wanna answer any questions the nurse might ask you, and I have everything I need to tend to you in my room. Plus you look like you could use a nap.”

    It seems to be no use to argue, so Yoongi shrugs and lets Jimin guide him to his room. He’s right, anyway, Yoongi didn’t want to go to the nurse’s office. He feels a bit dazed by Jimin’s efficiency, his brain slowed by the lack of sleep and the pain, and so Yoongi doesn’t react when his friend takes back his cup and places it on his desk with his own before stripping Yoongi of his jacket and scarf.

    “Sit,” the dancer orders him gently, ushering him to his bed. “I’ll be right back.”

    Yoongi obeys, sitting at the foot of the mattress, leaning back against the wall. Jimin comes back a minute later, holding cotton and disinfectant. He drops next to him on the bed, kneeling by his side and delicately grabbing his face to turn it toward him.

    “What happened to you? I noticed your jacket’s sleeve is torn, too,” Jimin whispers, much more kindly than before.

    Yoongi tries to shrug, but the comforting feeling of Jimin’s hand on his chin and the light sting of alcohol on his split lip prevent him from acting casual. He feels like shit, and the genuine worry in Jimin’s eyes makes him want to cry.

    “Some dickhead attacked a kid with a knife. I was right there, couldn’t let it slide,” he explains, voice hoarse. “I gave as much as I got, but he still managed to escape.”

    Jimin’s fingers lightly fly to Yoongi’s purple cheekbone, stroking him with the faintest of contacts.

    “You could have been hurt so badly,” he whispers, and for a second Yoongi thinks Jimin is going to lecture him, but he continues. “All so you could protect a child. I’m kinda proud of you.”

    Jimin speaks so softly Yoongi’s heart breaks, and he feels tears spill out of his eyes and down his cheeks. The dancer gapes for a second, before rushing to hug him tight.

    “Oh no, please don’t cry, oh god, Yoongi, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

    Yoongi can’t help but grip Jimin’s sweater, burying his face into the crook of his neck, desperately trying to stop sobbing. Jimin’s hands slowly stroke his back, and his voice softly whispers comforting nonsense into his ear until Yoongi just can’t hold it anymore and drifts asleep, too tired to fight and stay awake.

oOo

    Jimin is quietly humming to himself when Yoongi starts to stir. He doesn’t stop the low melody coming out of his closed lips, doesn’t stop his hand slowly moving through Yoongi’s hair, just waiting for his friend to wake up completely. Jimin’s sitting on his bed, back against the wall, and Yoongi is laying on the mattress, curled up in a tight ball with his head on Jimin’s lap. When he fell asleep in his arms, the dancer delicately lowered him in a more comfortable position, and couldn’t resist the urge to stroke his soft, dark hair.

    Jimin’s head has rolled back against the wall, his eyes closed, but he feels Yoongi move a bit, hears his breath quicken, until the music student’s raspy voice slurs through the silence.

    “Where…”

    “I’m here, Yoongi,” Jimin whispers, his fingers softly massaging his scalp.

    Yoongi almost purrs, leaning into the touch. Jimin chuckles quietly.

    “Told you you were a cat,” he teases quietly, earning a soft groan.

    Yoongi slowly rolls on his back, blinking at the light, his eyes focusing on Jimin’s face.

    “What… what time is it?”

    “A bit before ten,” Jimin answers after a glance at his alarm clock. “History of arts class isn’t even finished, you didn’t sleep that long.”

    Yoongi offers him a sleepy smile, stretching his back. Jimin feels his shoulders roll against his thigh and he has to bite his lips, inappropriate thoughts coursing through his mind. He wishes he could see Yoongi wake up more often. Preferably after having shared a bed without so much clothing in the way. Dammit , Jimin thinks. I’m in love . He smiles back at Yoongi, never stopping the slow motion of his hand in Yoongi’s hair.

    “Haven’t slept so well in a while,” Yoongi breathes.

    “Are you feeling better?”

    “Mmh. Don’t wanna move. You’re comfy.”

    Jimin chuckles. He can’t help but bend forward and kiss Yoongi’s forehead through his messy hair.

    “I have a free period right now, so you could fall back asleep without bothering me,” he offers, earning a small laugh.

    Yoongi rubs his face and slowly sits up, leaning against Jimin’s shoulder once he’s settled next to him with his back to the wall.

    “But I have another class,” he grumbles. “I should go.”

    Jimin lays his cheek atop Yoongi’s head and sighs. His free hand distractedly sneaks between them to grab Yoongi’s, tangling their fingers. The music student doesn’t seem to mind, his palm pressing against Jimin’s.

    “Oh well, it was worth a try. Wanna have lunch with me? I’d feel bad leaving you on your own in your state.”

    “I think Namjoon’s free today.”

    “Oh.”

    “You could still join us.”

    “I’d like to,” Jimin admits.

    “Then please do. I’d like it too. I met Taehyung, it’s only fair that you meet Namjoon.”

    Jimin bites back a laugh. This awfully sounds like introducing one’s boyfriend to friends, and he’s not about to complain. Meeting Namjoon feels like being officially labeled as Yoongi’s friend.

    “Great,” he finally answers.

    The whole process of getting up and putting his shoes and jacket back on seems excruciating for Yoongi, and Jimin can only watch, a bit disappointed to see him leave. Even though he knows he’ll see him again in just two hours, those quiet moments with him were so good he doesn’t want them to end. A small part of his brain wondered if he overstepped, by touching Yoongi’s hair and basically cuddling him, but Jimin tries to shut it up.

    Yoongi finally seems ready to go, even if his eyes are still half-closed and puffy from his crying. The bruise on his cheek is stark against his pale skin, the cut on his lip has stopped bleeding but is still red and a little swollen. All in all, the music student looks like shit, and Jimin still finds him as beautiful as ever.

    They stand there for a while, facing each other in silence while trying to figure out what to say, until Yoongi stuns Jimin when he steps forward and embraces him, squeezing tight and burrowing his face into Jimin’s neck.

    “Thank you,” he whispers, and the dancer melts against him, looping his arms around Yoongi’s waist.

    “Anytime.”

    Yoongi slowly steps back, offers him his gummy grin even though it must be painful, then waves lazily and leaves, glancing back at Jimin until the door closes.

    Jimin bites his lips to prevent a mad smile from stretching them. He bounces on the spot a few times and wraps his arms around himself, screwing his eyes shut. He could swear Yoongi kissed his neck before leaving.

    He all but skips to lunch, too impatient to walk properly. He meets Taehyung and Jungkook on the way and declines their offer to go eat together.

    “But Chimchim, why?” Taehyung pouts.

    “I promised Yoongi I’d have lunch with him and Namjoon. Besides, playing third wheel is only fun for so long, you two need time without me,” Jimin teases as Jungkook not-so-subtly nibbles Taehyung’s earlobe. “Honestly, I’m not sure how I managed to bear it for so long.”

    “That’s because you love us, Chimchim,” Jungkook innocently answers. “But you’re being unfair to this Namjoon guy. He’s gonna be the third wheel in your stead!”

    Jimin feels his cheeks burn.

    “Yoongi’s not my boyfriend.”

    “Yet,” Taehyung smirks.

    Jimin winks at him.

    “Hopefully.”

    His friends decide to go have sandwiches in a nearby café, so Jimin just resumes his walking to the cafeteria. As he’s about to pull the front door open, a girl he’s never seen before stops him.

    “Park Jimin? May I have a word with you?” she asks.

    Jimin quirks a brow.

    “Sure. What can I do for you?”

    “Oh, nothing, I just… Just wanted to warn you. You might not be aware, but this Min Yoongi is kinda… well, let’s just say you shouldn’t approach him.”

    Jimin stares, hesitating between laughing out loud and downright facepalming. The girl takes his silence as questioning, because she continues, her voice more confident.

    “He’s really violent. I know you’re friendly to everyone, but you should be more careful. Please avoid him. There are good reasons no one goes near him.”

    Good reasons, like people being stupid assholes , you mean? Jimin wants to ask, but he manages a curt nod.

    “Please mind your own business,” he sweetly says, and the girl shakes her head.

    “I’m sorry you take it that way. Don’t go thinking you’re his friend. He’s only gonna take advantage of you, like he does with that poor law student.”

    “Namjoon?” Jimin can’t help but exclaim, incredulous.

    “Whatever his name is. Min Yoongi’s probably just keeping him close so he has a cheap lawyer on hand when he next gets in trouble.”

    Jimin forces his breathing to stay steady, and smiles icily at the girl. He’s not gonna hit her - hit anyone - but holy mother of crap, he wants to. He wants to wipe that condescendingly worried expression off of her delicate features. He wants her to feel  what Yoongi felt when he was hiding away into his scarf, trying to mask his wounds and pain. Lonely and scared .

    “Thanks for the warning,” he says instead, his tone colder than the north pole. “Please never talk to me again.”

    He doesn’t let the girl answer and slips through the door, stomping towards the corner where he knows he’ll find Yoongi and Namjoon.

    There they are indeed, quietly bickering over something on Namjoon’s phone.

    “Hey,” he greets them, dropping into the seat facing them.

    “Hi, Jimin,” Namjoon greets. “Yoongi told me what happened this morning.”

    Yoongi silently waves to Jimin, then frowns a bit at what must still be an angry expression on Jimin’s face.

    “Is something wrong?” he asks, and Jimin sighs, offering him a reassuring smile.

    “Ran into some dumbass trying to tell me not to go near you. Like you’d hurt me,” he groans. “Even managed to insult Namjoon on their way.”

    Namjoon chuckles.

    “Welcome into my world. I keep getting told Yoongi’s using me.”

    “That’s exactly what she said.”

    The law student laughs again, but Jimin sees Yoongi tense and duck his bruised face.

    “I told you it would happen,” he grumbles.

    Jimin shrugs.

    “I really don’t care. For myself, I mean. It infuriates me that they would go all the way to try and prevent you from having friends just because of rumours. Is common sense so rare, dammit? In any case, I’m not gonna let you down just because some assholes want to dissuade me from getting close to you. They don’t mean shit. I know what you’re worth.”

    When he stops ranting to take his lunchbox out of his bag, he sees Yoongi sending him a look he can only describe as adoring , and Namjoon smiling proudly.

    “Park Jimin, you really are something else,” the law student declares, raising his water bottle like a toast.

    Jimin chuckles.

    “What?”

    “It’s only the second time we meet, but both times you impressed me,” Namjoon explains. “Just like Yoongi, you have quite a reputation, although yours is pretty harmless. Though the whole ‘popular boy’ gave me the impression you were a bit… vain? Not completely trustworthy. I’m happy to be proven wrong.”

    The dancer feels his cheeks try to match his hair, and he can’t help but grin wildly, his eyes closing.

    “This is probably the best compliment I was ever given,” he admits. “Thank you, Namjoon, it means a lot.”

    “Can we please get over the sappy stuff, guys,” Yoongi begs, making the other two laugh.

    Jimin digs into his food, lightly kicking Yoongi’s foot under the table and winking at him. When Yoongi lifts his eyes from his plate, he shoots a little grin at him, and Jimin thinks his heart might actually melt.

    Jimin goes about the next days in a weirdly wavering mood. Whenever he sees Yoongi, he’s on cloud nine. The music student seems to have definitely relaxed with him, and Jimin can’t help but wonder whether Namjoon calling him trustworthy had an impact, but in any case, he’s impossibly glad. Taehyung has started to go say hi to Yoongi before the history of arts class, even when he’s late, dropping by the back row to exchange a few words with him before going to sit next to Jimin. It seems like Yoongi might make more friends in the near future, when Jimin manages to find some time to introduce him to Jungkook.

    But some other times, Jimin feels angrier than ever. He’s an overall positive person, and whenever something annoys him, he always tries to not give a damn before getting properly angry, but those days, he can’t bring himself to not care. The girl warning him about Yoongi was just the first of a seemingly never-ending series of assholes. Almost everyday, at least one person comes up to him and asks about Yoongi. “Is he taking advantage of you?”; “You should go to the police if he bothers you”; ”I heard he’s already killed someone. Stay away from him”; ”Be careful, Park Jimin. Go out with me instead?” and other variations of the same thing. Jimin wonders whether people sometimes mind their own fucking businesses. A part of him wants to shout and yell how kind and nice and great Yoongi is, but he knows it would be pointless and only serve to make it worse. Another part of him wants to keep it quiet. Keep Yoongi to himself. Their loss. He’s mine now. Jimin knows he cannot exactly claim property of Yoongi, but he still feels stupidly possessive.

    All in all, he tries to shrug it off, and he tries not to show how annoyed he is. The last thing he wants is Yoongi to know how much bullshit he gets from being near him. It’s heartbreaking, really, to see how right Yoongi was from the beginning. How cruel people are. So he keeps it bottled up inside, and enjoys his time with his friend, falling more and more in love along the way.

oOo

    It’s on a bright Sunday afternoon that Yoongi drags Namjoon along with him to Jin’s café. It’s still freezing cold outside, but the sun is out and the sky is a pale, crystal-clear blue like they haven’t seen one for weeks. Yoongi feels fairly excited ; they’ve finally managed to find a time and day when everyone was available. When he gets in front of the little shop, Jimin’s already there, chatting with Taehyung and another boy Yoongi supposes is Jungkook, Tae’s boyfriend. He’s never properly met him, and he had no idea they were gonna be there, but he’s too happy to see all his friends at once to care. They’re Jimin’s friends, after all, and he trusts the dancer to not bring dickheads.

    There’s a moment of messy hesitation when everyone starts introducing each other, and Jimin giggles at the cacophony of names, looping one arm around Yoongi’s waist.

    “Sorry I didn’t tell you Tae and Kookie were coming, they kinda… decided to come without telling me either. Jungkook wanted to meet you, and Hobi said he wanted to meet him since he’s a dancer too. Anyway! Here they are, I guess,” he explains in a rush, but Yoongi’s more focused on Jimin’s body against his own than on his words.

    “It’s alright,” he mumbles, resisting the urge to lean into Jimin and to kiss his cheek. There are too many people around for him to dare act so familiar, so he just stands there scrambling for his brain and tries to introduce Namjoon to the others.

    Hoseok arrives a few minutes later, prompting another bout of “everyone says their names at the same time so no one can hear shit”, making the dance teacher gape and laugh. They finally get inside the café and Jimin takes everyone’s orders while the others go sit, in order not to crowd the counter. The coffee shop is almost empty save for them and the usual grandpa with his newspaper sitting near the window. Yoongi watches Jimin as he chats with Seokjin, forgetting that his friends and Jimin’s are there and can perfectly well see him shamelessly ogle the pink-haired dancer.

    Thankfully, Hoseok immediately starts talking to Jungkook about dance, and Namjoon and Tae seem to hit it off equally easily, Taehyung asking stuff about intellectual property. Jimin comes back with the promise that Jin’s taking care of everything and sits down next to Yoongi, squeezing his knee with a grin as he slouches into his chair.

    “Looks like you’re having fun already,” he comments with a chuckle, and Hobi nods excitedly.

    “I saw the midterm showcase of the first-year dance majors,” he says. “I’m trying to recruit Jungkook for the studio.”

    Yoongi glances at Jungkook’s face. His nose is scrunched up like a little bunny’s, and his smile is so damn cute he can’t suppress a chuckle.

    “I think you’ve convinced him already, Hobi,” he interjects.

    “Of course I did. I’m a great negotiator. You’re next, Yoongi.”

    The music student frowns, suddenly puzzled.

    “What? You’re not gonna make me dance, you know that, right?”

    Hoseok crumbles into laughter.

    “Of course not! But I want you to let me use D-2 for the studio’s end-of-year gig. The extracts you sent me the other day are great.”

    Jimin perks up at that and smiles brightly at Yoongi.

    “Oooh, I’d love that! Please say yes, Yoongi. I’d love to dance to your music and D-2 would be ideal.”

    Yoongi looks between the two, torn between being flattered and embarrassed. In all the months he spent letting Jimin listen to his music, he never actually came around to telling him- but Hoseok apparently is oblivious to this tiny little hitch.

    “What do you mean, Jimin, you’ve been dancing to Yoongi’s tracks for months now,” he says, one of his brows raised.

    “Huh?”

    Yoongi feels his cheeks heat. He clears his throat, glares daggers at Hobi, and shrugs in a failed attempt at nonchalance.

    “Suga,” he explains. “That’s me. I mean, that’s the name I use for my compositions when it’s not schoolwork.”

    Jimin looks dumbstruck, then his blush starts to match Yoongi’s. He hides his face in his hands and lets out a high-pitched giggle.

    “You’re serious?” he asks from behind his palms. “Shit, oh my god! Why didn’t you tell me earlier? All this time I’ve been telling you you should borrow Hoseok’s CD for inspiration and- even the first night when we met I told you about it- ooh, wait, that ’s how you knew I danced with Hobi! Everything’s coming together!”

    Yoongi tugs at Jimin’s wrists, wanting to see his face.

    “Sorry, I just… I didn’t have time to tell you the first time, and then it felt kind of awkward to say it was me, what with all the praise you showered onto my music.”

    “At least you’re sure I was sincere,” Jimin chuckles. “Now you have no choice but say yes to Hobi. I wanna knowingly dance to your new album.”

    Yoongi rolls his eyes, but can’t suppress a smile.

    “It’s not like he ever needed me to allow that to him. That first CD you’ve heard, I had asked him to keep to himself.”

    “But it was too good,” Hoseok protests, but he’s interrupted by Jin coming to deliver their orders.

    The conversation stutters to a halt as the barista puts the mugs and cupcakes on the table, smiling at them and wishing them to enjoy their treats. Everyone thanks him and he waves his now-empty tray dismissively, leaving them to go back to his counter, offering a fresh cup of tea to newspaper-grandpa.

    For a while, the six friends just eat and sip at their drinks in relative silence, occasionally commenting on the taste, until the discussion slowly picks up on different topics. Yoongi is content to just watch and listen, hardly believing he’s out with not one, not two, but five whole people who apparently don’t mind his presence and even appreciate it. He feels Jimin right next to him, the dancer’s hand sometimes coming to rest near his on the table or distractedly stroke his arm or squeeze his shoulder when he laughs. Tae and Hoseok are being obnoxiously loud and silly, Jungkook can’t stop laughing at them, and Namjoon seems entranced by his cake. It’s perfect, really. Yoongi sends a glance to Jimin, and finds the dancer already looking at him.

    “I don’t think I can express how grateful I am to you,” he breathes, barely staying in solid form as Jimin offers him his melting grin.

    “I didn’t do anything, Yoongi.”

    “I wouldn’t be there if it weren’t for you. We’d be in a crappy bar with Hobi and Joon and I’d be drinking the loneliness away. This… I didn’t think I’d experience this.”

    Jimin’s smile falters a bit, then comes back in a softer way. His fingers come up to stroke Yoongi’s temple, fleetingly.

    “You deserve it. You know that, right? I’m happy to be here with you.”

    Yoongi’s heart is slowly melting away. Jimin’s almost too good to be real, but he is, he is , and Yoongi can’t believe his luck. He’s about to reply, probably something cheesy and emotional that would make Jimin blush, when Namjoon’s voice cuts through the joyful mess that is their table.

    “Jimin,” he rasps. “Those cupcakes. He made them?” he asks, head tilted towards the counter, eyes focused on his last piece of pastry.

    Jimin quirks a brow, visibly struggling to switch from his conversation with Yoongi to Namjoon’s question.

    “Jin? Yeah, he bakes everything himself.”

    Namjoon munches on his last bite, swallows and licks his fingers before standing up.

    “I’m sorry, guys, duty calls.”

    The five of them look at him in confusion as the law student straightens his jacket and marches to the counter, where he leans against the wood and whispers something to Jin. It’s too low for them to hear, but whatever Namjoon said has Seokjin’s eyes widening and cheeks blushing a nice shade of pink.

    “Really?” Yoongi snorts.

    “Is Seokjin gay?” Taehyung asks in a very interested tone.

    “Nevermind that. Namjoon’s too good with words, Jin’s screwed,” Hoseok chuckles.

    They all laugh, then gape as Jin leans against his side of the counter too, a mischievous expression on his face.

    “Oh, this was unexpected,” Hobi comments, eliciting a giggle from Jimin.

    “Seems like we have an answer to Tae’s question, though,” he muses.

    They all watch the two men shamelessly flirt for a bit, before going back to their own conversation when it starts to be a bit too embarrassing to look at. Namjoon comes back a while later, a satisfied smirk on his face as he sits down on his chair. He waves off the curious gazes and questions.

    “A gentleman never tells,” he declares.

    “That’s as good as openly saying you’ve got a date,” Hoseok teases. “And on behalf of everyone here, we don’t want details. I’ve seen you flirt before and it is a painful reminder of my own inability to speak without making a fool of myself, I don’t think we need the humiliation.”

    He says all that with a bright, wide smile, and sends everyone back to their laughter while Namjoon just rolls his eyes. Yoongi wipes a few tears from his eyes. Jimin is clutching his arm, struggling to breathe. It’s a long time before they manage to stay serious enough to actually talk.

    This day seems to mark the start of a new era. Yoongi notices he barely is alone anymore. Jimin’s with him almost every time he can, still treating him to coffee before their lectures - Yoongi has tried to make him stop, arguing that Jimin’s spending way too much money on that, but the dancer just shrugged and continued. Taehyung and Jungkook join him and Jimin for lunch sometimes, even though they’re often busier kissing than actually eating. Namjoon has more and more work, but he makes sure to have lunch with Yoongi at least twice a week. Hoseok makes sure to pop out to say hi when he knows Yoongi has walked to the studio with Jimin, and Yoongi officially allowed him to use his music for his show.

    All in all, everything is pretty much ideal. Or it would be, if Jimin didn’t sometimes have this angry aura about him. Yoongi knows it’s because people keep pestering him about being friends with a criminal - ever since he showed up with a bruised cheek and a split lip, new rumours have appeared, wilder than ever. He hates it, but every time he tries to mention it, Jimin’s anger fades and he bats Yoongi’s concern off, saying that he doesn’t give a shit. And Yoongi believes him, too happy to bask in Jimin’s affection to worry about people whose existence he never even considered before. Part of him knows it might mean trouble for later, part of him feels a little guilty that Jimin has to go through this on his behalf. Most of him shrugs it off when Jimin smiles.

oOo

    Jimin’s rushing back home from the studio. Spring is settling in and it has been raining most of the time, but today it’s a fucking downpour hitting the city. He was soaked through barely two streets from Hoseok’s even with his umbrella, and now he just gave up the useless thing, folding it and tucking it into his bag to just run. He can’t get wetter anyway.

    He reaches the campus as the rain seems to fall even harder, and he wonders whether he might drown from the sheer ambient humidity when a silhouette a few feet from him appears in the semi-darkness, easily recognisable despite the water blurring everything.

    “Yoongi?” Jimin exclaims, louder than usual to cover the sound of the rain hitting the ground. “What are you doing here?”

    Yoongi jogs up to him. He’s just as soaked as Jimin and wears a furious scowl.

    “I was supposed to sleep in Namjoon’s room tonight, but the dick forgot and went on a date with Jin and he’s not coming back. So now I have to walk all the way back home under this fucking mess and I can’t feel my damn toes and I’ll have to get up extra early to go to this fucking meeting with-”

    Jimin holds out his hand to stop the rambling, not too keen on staying under the flood.

    “You can sleep in my room,” he offers.

    “What?”

    Jimin rolls his eyes and simply grabs Yoongi’s wrist, dragging him along to his dorm. As soon as they enter the hall, Jimin shudders and sighs in relief.

    “I feel like I’ve jumped into a bathtub,” he grumbles as his clothes drip on the tiled floor.

    A decently-sized puddle has already formed around his feet and Yoongi’s, and Jimin chuckles when his friend tries to keep his dark hair out of his eyes.

    “Tell me about it. Can I stay with you until it calms down a bit? I really don’t feel like walking home right now,” Yoongi grumbles.

    “I told you you could sleep here,” Jimin repeats. “I’m not gonna send you back under this hell when I have enough space for you. Come on.”

    They slowly climb the stairs, laughing at the mess they’re making, and finally manage to reach Jimin’s room. They stay near the door to avoid transforming it into a swimming pool.

    “Okay, stay here, I’m gonna get us towels,” Jimin chuckles.

    He takes his shoes and socks off, hangs his jacket on the hook nailed to the door and tip-toes to his bathroom. He strips to his underwear, leaving his soaked clothes in the sink, and wraps himself in his bathrobe. He then grabs a large towel and goes back to Yoongi, who soon matches his attire.

    “You’re turning blue,” Jimin deadpans, trying not to stare too much at Yoongi’s pale, smooth skin. “Go take a warm shower, I’ll make some tea.”

    Yoongi nods with a grateful expression.

    “Sorry about the mess,” he grumbles as he makes his way to the bathroom.

    Jimin shrugs, smiles, and puts the kettle on. He’s cold, too, but Yoongi was positively shaking. Jimin had the advantage of being warm and sweaty when he got out of the studio, fighting off the cold a bit longer than Yoongi could, apparently.

    He busies himself making tea and looking through his small cupboard to find something to eat, settling for instant noodles and promising himself to go shopping soon. He tries not to imagine Yoongi in his shower. The last months have seen them grow even closer, but Jimin still hasn’t dared to make a move. He knows he wants to, he knows all their friends know, and he’s pretty sure he’s obvious enough that Yoongi knows, too. But he still didn’t try to kiss him, even when they spent hours studying together and were huddled up over one book, even when Yoongi just took naps with his head on Jimin’s lap as the dancer kept reading, even when their hands sometimes found each other as they quietly enjoyed coffee together at Jin’s place. But now he has a very real, very naked Yoongi in his bathroom and he’s going to stay there the whole night, and there is no way in hell Jimin’s gonna let him sleep on the floor. Or sleep on the floor himself.

    Then Yoongi gets out of the bathroom and looks sheepishly at Jimin, his towel wrapped around his waist. The dancer tries desperately not to look at the few droplets rolling down on his lean torso.

    “Forgot to take the clothes in my bag,” Yoongi says with a grimace. “They’re probably wet anyway, but...”

    “I’ll lend you some,” Jimin offers, but he doesn’t move, too mesmerised.

    The music students quirks a brow at him, clearly waiting and maybe a tiny bit smug. They stay there for probably a minute, until Yoongi clears his throat, making Jimin jump.

    “As much as I like the face you make when you look at me, I’d rather not spend the whole night in a towel.”

    “I’m not forcing you to keep it on,” Jimin teases before he can stop himself.

    Yoongi blushes, but still chuckles.

    “Fair enough,” he admits. “I had it coming.”

    Jimin laughs, shakes his head and retreats to his closet. He fishes out clean underwear, his softest sweatpants and a t-shirt, then offers the pile to Yoongi.

    “Here you go. Tea’s waiting. Do you want to eat? I only have noodles, but…”

    “I’ve eaten at home,” Yoongi answers from the bathroom, through the door he’s left ajar. “Do you always buy t-shirts you can fit twice in?”

    He comes out of the bathroom and indeed, the shirt is hanging down to half his thighs and the neckline is wide enough to reveal his collarbones. Jimin chuckles.

    “They’re comfy to sleep in,” he explains. “I’ll go shower real quick, make yourself comfortable.”

    When he’s finally dry and dressed in his pyjamas, Jimin takes a few minutes to wring the water out of his and Yoongi’s clothes, then hangs them neatly by his little kitchen’s window. They probably won’t be dry in the morning, but Yoongi is close enough to him in size and probably will be able to borrow dry ones from him.

    They sit side by side on the bed with their tea, Jimin munching on his noodles in silence. He’s feeling a tiny bit tense, or is it anticipation? He’s not sure, but he’s almost certain Yoongi feels it too. Jimin’s breath feels shallower than usual, and he tries to hide his restlessness by jumping off the bed when he’s finished eating. He washes his bowl, distractedly hears Yoongi arriving behind him with their empty mugs.

    “Do you have a spare blanket?” the music student asks as he puts the cup into the sink.

    “What for?”

    “For me. Or a sweater.”

    Jimin glances at him and rolls his eyes.

    “Like I’d let you sleep on the floor. Don’t be stupid.”

    “I’m not gonna steal your bed, Jimin.”

    “Now you’re being deliberately thick. Unless it makes you uncomfortable, we can share my bed. Being short and thin comes in handy for once.”

    Yoongi’s blush is back, but he slowly nods.

    “I don’t mind. I just didn’t want to assume you’d let me sleep next to you.”

    Jimin just smiles, and they go back to their usual, quiet conversations as they brush their teeth and prepare for bed. It’s not that late, but Jimin doesn’t feel like suggesting watching a movie or another activity that might divert Yoongi’s attention. If he’s being honest, he just wants to settle under the comforter and cuddle. Apparently, Yoongi has the same idea, because he’s sprawled on the bed when Jimin comes out of the bathroom.

    “Okay, if you’re gonna be a giant starfish, maybe I’ll ditch you to the floor,” he chuckles.

    Yoongi opens one eye and smiles innocently.

    “But it’s so comfy… can’t move,” he drawls teasingly.

    Jimin quirks a brow, eyes him carefully, weighing the possible outcomes of his idea. Then he shrugs, deliberately slow, and walks to the bed.

    “Guess I don’t have a choice,” he deadpans.

    Without leaving Yoongi time to react, Jimin climbs on the mattress, straddles Yoongi’s thighs and simply lays atop him, tangling their legs and burying his face into Yoongi’s neck. He feels his friend tense for a few seconds, then arms wrap around his waist.

    “You’re heavy.”

    “I’m all muscle.”

    “Can’t breathe.”

    “Drama queen.”

    “Gonna die.”

    Jimin giggles into Yoongi’s neck, then props himself up on his elbows, framing Yoongi’s face. The music student’s arms still hold his waist. Their gazes lock, laughter dying on their lips as they realise how close they are. Jimin can’t stop himself from looking down at Yoongi’s mouth, slightly parted as if breathless. When he looks up to his eyes again, swallowing hard, they seem a bit darker. Jimin’s lungs seem to freeze for a second, along with his heart, and he can’t help it anymore. He leans down, sealing his lips to Yoongi’s, sighing into the warm contact.

    Yoongi’s arms tighten around his waist. His lips are so soft, perfectly fitting against his own. Jimin dares glance at Yoongi’s eyes, and they’re shut, lids trembling like he’s scared to look, so Jimin closes his too and focuses on Yoongi’s mouth. They slowly move together, soft and chaste, but Jimin wants more. He parts his lips, feels Yoongi’s mirror the movement. His fingers tangle into Yoongi’s hair, slightly tugging at the dark strands, his whole body humming. Yoongi’s tongue tentatively reaches his, and Jimin’s brain decides it’s time to surrender.

    When they part a moment later, all but breathless, Yoongi’s hands have sneaked under Jimin’s shirt. They stroke his back, gripping his shoulder blades, his palms exploring Jimin’s skin.

    They stare at each other silently, their lips still a hair width away, until Yoongi slowly smiles. Once again, Jimin thinks he looks like a cat. Half-sleepy, half-smug, half-goddamn cute. Yeah, Yoongi needs at least three halves to describe him. There’s no way a single man can be all that, he has to be more.

    “Am I still heavy?” Jimin whispers, earning a low chuckle.

    “Don’t you dare move.”

    “Wasn’t planning to. Although we could slip under the covers.”

    “Mmh.”

    “I’ll be right back.”

    Yoongi rolls his eyes, but releases Jimin and gets up just enough to tug the blanket from underneath him. Jimin leaps to the lightswitch and back to the bed, falling into Yoongi’s arms as soon as night fills the room. The rain is still pouring outside, hitting the window with a low, steady drumming sound.

    Jimin pulls the covers onto them, snuggling against Yoongi’s chest, kissing his collarbone on the way.

    “I’ve wanted to do that forever,” he sighs against his skin.

    “I suspected as much,” Yoongi teases, squeezing Jimin against him. “Hoped you would.”

    Jimin smiles, brings up a hand to push Yoongi’s hair away from his face, and leans in to press a new kiss on the corner of his mouth.

    “In case it needs saying… I really like you, Yoongi.”

    “I’m not sure why you do, but I’m not complaining. I like you, too.”

    Jimin feels like his heart is trying to leap out of his chest as they cuddle into a tangle of limbs. He doesn’t know how he managed to get himself in this incredibly perfect situation, and distractedly thanks whatever god might be watching over him.

    “I’ve got plenty of excellent reasons to like you,” he chuckles, “but I’m pretty sure you can wait to hear them later.”

    “Deal. Wasn’t planning on letting you talk right now.”

    Jimin suppresses his laugh and lets Yoongi take his lips again, melting at the contact until he entirely forgets to think.

oOo

    Yoongi wakes up in a jolt, eyes struggling to focus in the dark. He scrambles for his phone, cuts off the alarm and takes a few seconds to understand where he is. His sleep-addled brain finally takes in the sleepy form snuggled into his side, and a slow, incredulous smile dawns on Yoongi’s lips.

    Jimin. Jimin is there, holding his waist, face pressed into his shoulder. Jimin, whom he’s kissed into oblivion the night before. Yoongi reluctantly disentangles himself from his arms, earning a groan.

    “Don’t go,” Jimin’s slurry voice muffles into his shirt.

    “I have to. I’ve got an appointment,” Yoongi whispers, laying a kiss on Jimin’s temple. “But I’ll see you later, yeah?”

    He manages to get out of bed, leaps to his still-soggy bag and sighs. Shit. He hasn’t got time for that. His school stuff is mercifully dry, protected by the spare clothes he had prepared. Said spare clothes are disgustingly damp, though, and his clothes from the day before are, too, hanging in Jimin’s kitchen.

    Yoongi is in the middle of not knowing what to do when the bedsheets rustle behind him, and he turns to see Jimin slowly sit up while rubbing his face. He’s so adorable Yoongi thinks he’s gonna melt, but he still needs decent clothes. He needs to be presentable to meet his professor.

    “Jimin, can I borrow some clothes?” he asks, voice tense, and Jimin nods sleepily at him. “Mine are still wet.”

    “Sure. Take whatever you want,” he mumbles, slowly standing up and shuffling closer to wrap his arms around his waist. “Can we have lunch together, please?”

    Yoongi turns around and drapes his arms on Jimin’s shoulders.

    “Of course, Jiminie. Since when do you need to ask?”

    Jimin smiles and kisses his neck before letting go, his eyes still half-closed.

    “Dunno. Wanted to make sure you still wanted me around.”

    “Of course I do.”

    Jimin grins at him, then disappears in his bathroom while Yoongi takes a look at his closet. Why are all his damn trousers so tight, he wonders, thanking the Lord Jimin’s thighs are bigger than his. He finds a pair of black not-too-skinny jeans that fit him relatively well and a simple white and grey striped sweatshirt. It feels a bit weird to not have holes on his knees and to not be completely dressed in black, but at the same time, he probably wouldn’t have found anything as good for his appointment in his own wardrobe.

    He’s lacing up his boots - miraculously pretty dry - when Jimin appears again, dressed as well and two mugs in hand.

    “I made coffee,” he announces quietly, handing one of the steaming cups to Yoongi.

    “Have I ever told you you’re too good to be true, Park Jimin?”

    The dancer lets out a tired giggle.

    “No,” he breathes, and Yoongi leans forward to kiss his cheek.

    “You are.”

    He finishes putting his shoes on, shrugs his leather jacket on and burns his tongue with his drink. It doesn’t dampen his mood; he’s flying too high.

    “It’s funny seeing you wearing my clothes,” Jimin chuckles, sipping at his own mug. “You look good.”

    “Are you complimenting me, or your own sense of fashion?” Yoongi asks teasingly, handing him the empty mug back.

    “Both,” Jimin laughs. “Do you have to leave now?”

    “Yeah. Can’t afford to be late, I have to discuss my career plan with my production teach’. He might be able to introduce me to some people in the industry, I have to make a good impression.”

    Jimin places both cups on his bedside table and wraps his arms around Yoongi’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss. His hands crawl into Yoongi’s hair, ruffling it and combing it back in a soothing movement. When they part, Jimin steps back a bit and smiles almost shyly.

    “You’re gonna do great,” he whispers.

    Yoongi’s heart is beating wildly. He grins, messes Jimin’s hair and picks his bag up.

    “See you, Jiminie.”

    His appointment goes perfectly according to plan. His professor even tells him he’s proud of him and his hard work.

    Lunch goes even better, when Jimin greets him with the most beautiful smile as he joins him, Namjoon, Taehyung and Jungkook at their now-usual table. Yoongi doesn’t dare kiss him, out in the open, but he squeezes his hand under the table.

    The afternoon flies by, and he meets Jimin again before leaving the campus. They start walking side by side, as usual when Jimin has to go to Hoseok’s studio. Yoongi wants to hold his hand, he wants to kiss him, but he still doesn’t dare. Despite the displays of affection they had for each other in Jimin’s room, he’s not sure Jimin wants anyone to know about them. He’s not even sure what they are; they didn’t talk about it. Yoongi wants to ask if they’re boyfriends. He’d love to be, but now that a day has passed, he’s not sure anymore. Sure, Jimin kissed him goodbye this morning, and he didn’t avoid Yoongi the rest of the day, but he didn’t kiss him at lunch, nor now, either.

    As Yoongi slowly falls into a spiral of uncertainty, a snarky voice pulls him out of his thoughts and shatters the remnants of this morning’s happiness.

    “Hey Park, if you’re gonna be a bad boy’s slut, at least choose one who can afford you!”

    Yoongi’s eyes shoot up to the guy who just talked. It’s a student from his department, he thinks, but he has no idea what his name is; he’s surrounded by a few others. The remark cuts through his brain, reminding him of his first meeting with Jimin in a disgustingly twisted way. But before he can fully react, Jimin steps toward the guy and drawls a reply.

    “Are you calling me a prostitute?” he smoothly asks, a delicate smile on his perfect features.

    “Are you trying to convince me you’d sleep with Min for free?” the other counters with a smug smirk.

    Yoongi steps up to Jimin, ready to snarl, but the dancer beats him to it again. With one fluid motion, his right fist flies to the dickhead’s jaw, quickly followed by a kick to his sternum that sends him tumbling down on the ground. Jimin sashays toward him, his perfect smile still in place like he didn’t just punch a man, and towers over the whimpering asshole.

    “See, you had the opportunity to back down from the first insult, but you were stupid enough to miss it and insult us a second time instead. I wonder what kind of stale mush fills your head,” he says in a sad tone, as if he were telling a terminally ill man about his imminent death. “Well, at least I hope you learnt not to wake the wrong dog,” he adds in a much more amused tone, a smirk stretching his lips.

    Yoongi just stares, trying to not look too dumbfounded by Jimin’s behaviour. He knew the dancer was capable of fending for himself, but seeing it with his own eyes is pretty impressive - and more than a bit hot, too. Then Jimin just turns his back to the cunt and marches to Yoongi, grabs his hand and leans in to kiss him full on the lips, obviously making a show of it as he slides his tongue into Yoongi’s mouth and audibly sighs. Yoongi can’t help but join the act, his knees feeling a little weak as he grips Jimin’s nape and dives his fingers into his pink hair.

    Yoongi hears gasps around them, but he’s too focused on Jimin’s mouth to care. When the dancer steps back a tiny bit, Yoongi sees him wink at him and bite his lower lip in glee.

    “Couldn’t help it, sorry,” he whispers.

    “You’re a minx.”

    “You like it.”

    Yoongi grins.

    “Lord help me, I do.”

    Jimin giggles, and without letting go of Yoongi’s hand, resumes his walking. Yoongi follows, ignoring the buzzing of the students watching them, gripping Jimin’s knuckles tightly.

    Only when they have left the campus does Yoongi allow himself to relax. He waits a few more streets to speak again, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

    “I… I suppose we’re officially together, then?”

    Jimin squeezes his hand, looks at him with so much affection in his dark eyes Yoongi forgets to breathe.

    “I kinda forgot that part, yeah” he chuckles. “Min Yoongi, will you be my boyfriend?”

    “Ah, we cannot disappoint the fans now, can we?” Yoongi teases, before cupping Jimin’s cheek in his palm and pulling him in for a sweet kiss. “Yeah, Park Jimin, I’d love to be your boyfriend.”