Chapter Text
The fluorescent lights of the hallway are blinding, making Jimin squint as he quickly approached the end of the hall. He’s late. Only by five minutes, but it’s too late considering it’s the first day. He had been arguing with his mom before she finally guilted him into getting in the car with her. When they arrived at the community center she had practically shoved him out of the car, blowing him a kiss and yelling, “Make friends!”
So now he’s here, rushing to get to the stupid group therapy for troubled teens or something. He thinks it’s ridiculous. He doesn’t have any kind of serious problem, and he’s perfectly able to control all his behaviors. The thought that his parents have basically forced him to do this have put him in a pretty bad mood to say the least. Part of him is also a little nervous, just because he’s hardly sure he’s even on the right floor of the building, and walking into a wrong room is really not what he needs right now.
He’s about to turn around and just forget the whole thing when the room matching with the quickly drawn number on his hand approaches. The door is ajar, not quite closed all the way, but mostly shut. Jimin takes a deep breath as he slowly opens it, peeking his head through and glancing around the small room. It’s bright, the afternoon sun shining in through the windows, however despite the brightness, room feels cold.
There’s only one smiling face, belonging to a youthful looking woman in large glasses, with shoulder-length fluffy, brown hair. She seems to be speaking quite enthusiastically to a group of teenagers who appear less than amused, before directing her attention to Jimin standing in the doorway. Her eyes widen upon seeing the new face and Jimin definitely isn’t prepared for her cheery voice.
“Oh my goodness! Someone new! Please take a seat—” she looks around the chairs set in a circle, her brows crinkling a bit, “—oh there’s a seat right over there.” She doesn’t have to be so straightforward, considering there can’t be more than fifteen kids, and there’s only one open seat. He walks over to the far end of the circle, trying to keep his head down and not direct any more unwanted attention towards him. When he finally makes his way over he breathes for what feels like the first time since he got in the car.
Jimin can’t seem to get very comfortable in the chair despite the cushiony seat. He keeps shifting around, vaguely listening to what the woman is saying. He has a headache so he closes his eyes and droops his head down.
“Alright everybody,” the counselor’s joyous voice chimes, “now we’re just going to go around and do a really quick introduction. It’s just going to be your name, age, and something that you enjoy.” She smiles, her large-brimmed glasses taking up most of her petite face, “I’ll start. My name is Chunhei, I’m 29 years old, and I love cooking. Okay so let’s start from my left and just go around the circle.”
The next person, a boy, starts talking, thought Jimin isn’t really paying any attention to what he’s saying. Despite his apprehension about having to introduce himself, he figures he has about ten people before his turn which gives him some time to think about something. He’s having trouble concentrating on anything though because he’s actually shivering, this room is criminally cold. Suddenly the girl on his right is speaking, and he finally looks over at her. She has long brown hair, kind of matted and tangled. She has dark circles under her eyes and Jimin wonders when the last time she has a good night’s sleep.
She fiddles with her fingers as she speaks softly, “I’m Hyunjae, I’m 16, and I guess I like reading.” She never looks up as she speaks, just staring downward where hew twiddling hands have moved to grasp strands of her hair, twirling it in between her fingers.
Jimin gulps because he’s next and all the eyes in the room have moved to him. He clears his throat as quietly as he can, trying to ease the anxiety that he feels. “Hi,” he starts, “I’m Jimin, I’m 16, and I like dancing.” He hadn’t thought to say dancing, but it was the most natural thing to come out of his mouth.
He hasn’t danced in over a year.
But his stressful moment is over and it’s onto the next person, another boy sitting next to him. The boy has black hair, long enough to fall over his eyes. His skin is pale and he’s very thin. Jimin is surprised when the boy first speaks, the voice coming out not matching his appearance at all. His voice is deep and almost raspy, and he speaks slowly like he has all the time in the world.
“I’m Yoongi,” the boy starts in his low voice, “I’m 17, and I like making music.” Then it’s right off to the next person.
Even though the last few people are introducing themselves, Jimin can’t help but be captivated by the boy next to him—Yoongi. Jimin is oddly intrigued by the slim boy, though he really can’t tell why.
Suddenly Yoongi moves his head in Jimin’s direction, looking straight at him. Jimin’s eyes widen and he flushes slightly embarrassed at having been caught staring. Despite the hair in his eyes, Jimin can still see that they look tired, but have a pretty shape to them, almost cat-like. Jimin quickly moves his stare away and picks a nice point on the ground to look at. He crosses his arms across his chest and rocks back and forth a little—he’s still freezing.
Chunhei’s lively voice cuts the silence after the last person’s introduction. “Great, thank you everyone! Now we’re going to do another little activity, but don’t worry this will just be with the person next to you. I’m just going to give you five minutes to discuss with that person why you find so much enjoyment in the topic you just named. There’s no pressure to share anything you don’t want to, just say what you’re comfortable with.”
She looks down at her phone, checking the starting time, “aaand break!” Chunhei smiles as everyone awkwardly finds their partner, the room gradually growing in volume, but not by much.
Jimin looks to his left to realize that Yoongi is staring at him, and he deducts that they must be partners. Jimin swallows, “Hi.” He starts, breaking the silence between them.
“Hey,” Yoongi replies.
There’s another silence and Jimin just can’t stand to sit around with a stranger looking at him for the five minutes with his intense eyes, so he tries to make the best of the situation. “You mentioned that you liked making music?” He states is as a question, trying to remember exactly what the other said.
Yoongi nods, brushing his hair out of his eyes just slightly, but enough that Jimin can get a better look at his entire face. He has a nice face, almost pretty. He has delicate features, small nose, nice lips. He’s pretty handsome and Jimin can feel his face getting slightly hotter.
“Yeah,” he speaks again in that unexpected voice, “I like music production and stuff.”
Jimin turns his body left to face the other more, his arms still crossing his chest, “That’s actually really cool. Do you play any instruments or sing or anything?” Jimin hopes he doesn’t sound too invasive, but he’s genuinely curious. Not too many 17-year-olds are interested in music production.
Yoongi shrugs, “I play piano and mix beats. That’s about it though.” The way he casually brushes off such interesting talents kind of makes Jimin mad. What’s this guy’s problem? He could be really talented and he doesn’t even care. Then again, he kind of looks a little lazy and his stuff might not be as good as it sounds. Jimin immediately feels bad for judging him on being lazy. They’re at a therapy group for goodness sake, he might have the ambition but not the motivation, he could be more occupied with other issues. Jimin replies as nicely as he can.
“I think that’s really cool actually.” Jimin says, trying to give the other a small smile. Yoongi’s expression remains the same, but if anything he looks like he’s thinking.
“And you dance?” Yoongi asks.
Jimin’s smile falls and he scratches his arm. “Actually, I’m not sure why I said that. I don’t really dance anymore.”
There’s a pause before, “But it still makes you happy?” Yoongi asks. And Jimin’s surprised that the conversation didn’t come to a complete standstill after Jimin’s lame reply.
“Yeah dancing always made me happy. I mean it still does, but I watch it more than participate.” Jimin bends over, trembling slightly at how utterly cold he is. Does no one else feel it? He really regrets not bringing a jacket, but in the hurried rush out of the house, he didn’t even think of it. Jimin blows on his hands, trying to do what he can to warm them up.
“Are you cold?” The voice comes from his left and Jimin recognizes it as Yoongi’s voice.
Jimin nods, “God it’s freezing in here.”
Before Jimin realizes what’s happening Yoongi unzips his plain black jacket and begins shrugging it off.
“No wait, no, I don’t need—”
“Nah it’s fine, I’m warm, just don’t steal it.” Yoongi smiles a bit as he thrusts the article of clothing into Jimin’s lap. “I like that jacket.”
Jimin nods, and usually he really isn’t one to wear stranger’s clothes, but right now he’s kind of desperate.
“Thank you, Yoongi.” Jimin says softly as he pulls the jacket on. It’s a little big on him, but it’s really comfy and he definitely feels warmer. The jacket doesn’t smell amazing—kind of like deodorant masking the smell of smoke and sweat, though Jimin appreciates the gesture, and figures the warmth beats the smell.
“Yeah you need it more than I do. You’re skin and bone.” Yoongi says bluntly.
Jimin stops zipping up the jacket mid-way. His breath hitching in his throat. Jimin is so aware of his throbbing headache, unable to do anything to stop it as it progressively gets worse. Lately it seems like he just wakes up with a headache, it just feels like the same one that never goes away. That mixed in with his faintness and fatigue...it’s just become part of daily life. Jimin can sense his eyes burning, and he blinks rapidly to try and hold everything in.
“Fuck.” Jimin vaguely hears Yoongi say from next to him, “listen I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“Time’s up!” Chunhei announces, causing everyone in the room to halt their conversations.
Jimin knows why he’s here, no matter how much he wants to deny it. He’s still shivering despite the added warmth of the jacket, not quite being able to heat him up. Jimin can feel Yoongi’s eyes still on him even though he’s staring down at the ground.
Jimin is unable to pay much attention to the rest of the time that passes. Near the end Chunhei suggests that everyone get out and go somewhere, and it’s decided that next week, instead of meeting at the community center, they meet at the mall. It’s easy enough that no one has to put much effort into it, they really just have to walk around. Jimin doesn’t think much about it, he likes a few stores at the mall, though clothes shopping has never been something he was much of a fan of. He sighs thinking about the thought of having to try on clothes in front of the mirrors and begins to feel nausea build up in his stomach.
Suddenly it’s six o’clock and everyone is getting up and leaving. Jimin hadn’t even paid attention to the last thirty minutes, completely occupied with his own thoughts. The blond boy wonders what brought the other teenagers to this group, but figures it’s none of his business. It’s not their business either.
Jimin is getting up silently and about to head out when he hears a deep voice, “You can keep it if you want.”
He turns around, eyebrow raised to pinpoint the voice. Yoongi is still sitting in his chair, arms folded across his chest. He’s wearing a long sleeve gray shirt, so even without the jacket, his arms aren’t bare. Jimin realizes now that he’s still wearing the elder’s jacket and he hadn’t even noticed. The realization brings a slight blush to his cheeks. He was really just going to walk right out wearing a stranger’s clothes.
“Oh, sorry about that,” he begins to unzip the jacket, “here, I forgot.”
“I said you could keep it. I have other jackets.” Yoongi replies. The answer confuses Jimin because surely he isn’t being serious, but then Yoongi gets up from his chair and begins walking toward the door. He passes Jimin in the process who realizes that they’re practically the same height, although Yoongi just feels slightly bigger and broader.
Yoongi turns around, leaning casually against the doorframe, the other teenagers having cleared out already, leaving Chunhei as the only other person in the room with them. The group leader is staring at her phone, her expression is blank as she texts someone quickly. Maybe she doesn’t want to be here anymore than the kids do. The thought makes Jimin sigh.
“You can help me pick a new one out at the mall next week.” Yoongi says.
Jimin doesn’t know how to reply, so he just nods slightly and watches Yoongi walk out of the room, leaving Jimin standing in the stranger’s jacket. He zips up the clothing once more, stuffs his hands in the pockets, and leaves.
Well this is going to be interesting.