Archive of Our Own

“Sunlight’s honey shining off your hair, and no sugar, I’m not ready to share.”

-

Min Yoongi first meets Park Jimin at a bar.

Bars aren’t usually Yoongi’s thing. He prefers staying home and maybe having a friend or two over, drinking selections from his special collection of American wines. He doesn’t like the loud drunken bustle of bars, and he doesn’t really like the dirty sort of dancing that happens on the slick-with-sweat dance floors, and he’s not saying that he doesn’t like people, but Yoongi’s just really not a people person.

And yeah, maybe Suga is a people person, but Suga’s a performer. And when Yoongi’s not Suga, he likes being by himself.

And he’s grateful that he’s found friends that seem to accept that about him, even if Namjoon personally likes chatting up cute people in bars and Hoseok is not-so-secretly big into the party scene himself. His gratefulness is the only reason why he puts up with their occasional attempts to drag him outside to socialize with the rest of the drunken college scene.

“Seriously, hyung, when’s the last time you met someone new?” Hoseok points out, his arms looped around Yoongi’s shoulders to keep him from retreating into his bedroom.

“I meet new people all the time,” Yoongi mutters back sourly, his cheek pressed against the doorjamb. He tries to remember the last time he met a new kid from one of his classes or at the studio, but he finds that he really can’t recall the last time he’s spoken to someone who isn’t Hoseok or Namjoon. The thought is a bit disconcerting, and Hoseok takes advantage of Yoongi’s confusion to haul him toward the front door.

“You just need to get some fresh air,” Hoseok says soothingly, licking his thumb and using it to smooth down one of Yoongi’s eyebrows. The older man glares at him and knocks his hand away.

“Come out with us tonight!” Hoseok continues, completely unaffected by Yoongi’s hostility, and Yoongi wonders if maybe the force behind his glares has weakened lately because Hoseok doesn’t seem to be getting the message to shut up.

But he’s not a heartless asshole, and there’s only so much pouting from Hoseok that a sane man can stand, so eventually he sighs and slips into his least-favorite pair of shoes—the last time he had gone out with Hoseok, he had come home with strawberry daiquiri-colored vomit all over his nicest pair of sneakers.

“Where are we going?” Yoongi asks tiredly, only managing to grab his keys before Hoseok’s pulling him outside and stuffing him in the backseat of Namjoon’s waiting car and huh, was Namjoon waiting outside the entire time? What a loser.

“We’re heading over to Honey,” Namjoon explains, both snapback and smirk firmly in place as he heads off in the direction of what Yoongi knows to be the seedier neighborhoods around campus. He’s heard of Honey before, a relatively new bar that Yoongi’s never bothered to check out because frankly, he’s seen it all before.

“Is that the place with the handsome employee you always talk about?” Yoongi drawls, leaning back against the leather seats. Namjoon’s parents had bought him a new car only last month, and its interior is so nice that Yoongi doesn’t mind not riding shotgun just this once.

“Shut up,” Namjoon mumbles, and he doesn’t take his eyes off the road but Yoongi can see the tips of his ears tinge pink, and he smiles to himself.

“Aw, does our Namjoonie have a crush?” Hoseok’s always relentless in his teasing, and that’s just one of the reasons Yoongi’s glad he never ‘crushes’ on people.

“Shut up!” Namjoon repeats, driving a little faster. Hoseok laughs before twisting around in his seat to face Yoongi, and the older can already tell something’s up by the way the junior’s eyes twinkle in mischief.

“By the way, I have someone who wants to meet you,” sing-songs the younger boy, and Yoongi immediately wants to crawl out the window and go home.

“No, no, no, Jung Hoseok,” Yoongi threatens, leaning forward until his nose nearly touches Hoseok’s, “you did not fucking set me up on a blind date. How could you do this?”

“Aw, hyung,” Hoseok whines, leaning back so Yoongi can’t grab him and wring his neck. “Jimin is really nice, I promise! You haven’t even met him yet!”

Yoongi seethes, “I don’t want to meet any of your desperate friends, Jung Hoseok. I don’t care if they’re goddamn supermodels, I don’t like being set up with complete strangers, and you know, I’m perfectly happy being alone-”

And okay, maybe that sounded better in his head and isn’t entirely true, but Yoongi really is happy with his life, and he doesn’t need anyone coming in and messing it up, thank you very much.

“He’s not desperate, hyung,” Hoseok sounds nearly exasperated, and Yoongi can’t tell if he feels more disbelief or fury at the moment, “I just thought he was your type, you know? He’s cute, he likes Suga’s music and hey, he’s even shorter than you!”

It’s only because Namjoon finally arrives at the bar that Hoseok gets to escape Yoongi’s wrath.

It takes them more than ten minutes just to get out of the parking lot, because Yoongi tries to climb through the driver’s seat window to take himself home, but he soon finds himself sandwiched between the two taller juniors as they march him indoors. And if Yoongi didn’t have a reputation to uphold, he totally would have thrown a temper tantrum.

“Scotch, on the rocks,’ he murmurs to the waiter running bottle service, deciding that if he’s to be forced to socialize, he’s sure as hell not going to be sober for it.

The waiter is a tall, well-proportioned guy, dressed all in black, and has a small, handsome face that lets Yoongi understand how Namjoon could let himself get so enamored with a total stranger. A badge pinned to his chest reads ‘Seokjin,’ and Yoongi dimly wonders if he’s seen him around before Hoseok is suddenly hurrying over, dragging a nervous-looking kid behind him.

“Hyung!” Hoseok’s voice is too loud and bright all at once, Yoongi thinks bitterly, downing the rest of his drink before turning to face the pair.

“This is Park Jimin,” Hoseok introduces his friend happily, pushing him forward. Yoongi takes a minute to look over the kid, and for a moment—just a moment—thinks he’s pretty cute as he turns and tries to take a step back again. He’s dressed in torn, tight jeans and an old sweatshirt, and it must be a little too hot for that in the bar because Yoongi can see the sheen of sweat on his temples (and he stops himself from thinking that it’s kind of attractive). The kid, Jimin, turns back to face Yoongi, and sticks his hand out. Yoongi thinks about ignoring it, and then catches Hoseok glaring at him so he reaches out and shakes it once.

“Jimin, this is Yoongi hyung,” Hoseok continues, his smile firmly back in place. “He’s a senior, and likes riding bikes and taking long walks on the beach. Enjoy him!” And with that, Hoseok shoves Jimin forward until he falls over Yoongi’s lap and takes off.

Yoongi stares down at Jimin who’s not moving, mouth open and cheeks slowly flushing pink as he lays bent over Yoongi’s lap, and then sighs and grabs his shoulder, hauling him up. Apparently, he’s going to have to do all the work tonight because Jimin clearly has no idea what he’s doing.

“I’m sorry about Hoseok,” Yoongi starts, gesturing for another drink. Jimin still looks mortified, and Yoongi wonders if he’s been permanently affected by Hoseok’s dumbness. He’s always thought it was contagious.

“It’s okay,” Jimin replies a few moments later, not taking his eyes off of Yoongi even as he sips on his second drink. “And just so you know, I didn’t try to set this up or anything, I swear. That was all Hoseok hyung’s idea, really.”

“Oh, I bet,” Yoongi snorts, sitting his glass down and leaning his elbow on the counter. “Hoseok thinks that I’ll die of loneliness or something unless I’m in a relationship.”

Jimin shifts a bit on his feet, and Yoongi kind of wishes the kid would just sit down already. A moment later, though, Jimin perks up, catching sight of the Wu Tang logo on Yoongi’s shirt. “Oh, that’s an America hiphop group, right? I’ve heard you rap before, Yoongi-ssi. You’re a music major at SeoulArts, right? I’m a dance major there.”

Yoongi flashes him a critical look before sighing, “Look, Jimin, small talk isn’t my thing. Honestly, blind dates aren’t my thing, and they don’t seem like they’re yours either. So, just to make Hoseok happy, let’s not and say we did.”

Jimin looks like he doesn’t understand, so Yoongi tries again.

“I’m just going to leave, okay?”

Jimin scratches at the back of his neck, and Yoongi tamps down on the thought that doe-eyed confusion is a good look on him.

“But, I thought we could at least get to know each other?”

Yoongi sighs again and stands up. “I’m sure you’re a great person, Jimin, but I just don’t work like this, okay?”

He sets a wad of cash down on the countertop to pay for his drinks, grabbing his jacket off the back of the barstool, before turning around and heading out. From the corner of his eye he can see the waiter approach Jimin, who’s still standing at the bar although he isn’t looking at Yoongi, and then Yoongi shakes his head before stepping outside and calling a cab to take him home.

-

Jimin’s so upset that he doesn’t even notice Seokjin eating the last of his snacks.

The senior had been nice enough to give Jimin a ride home after Yoongi had left him stranded at the bar, and then had invited himself into Jimin’s humble apartment, claiming that the younger boy had just gone through a tough experience and needed company.

“He just totally blew me off!” Jimin’s laying on the sofa, his head lolling backwards off the arm as he stares angrily at the ceiling. Seokjin’s sitting at the dining table, stuffing his mouth with biscuits, and he nods sympathetically every time Jimin complains, although he doesn’t say much himself.

“I mean, he could have at least stuck around for a conversation, right? What kind of decent human being just leaves?” Jimin lets out an angry groan and slams a pillow over his face, muffling his voice as he lets out a frustrated scream.

“Why does he have to be so cute?”

Seokjin laughs, actually laughs at Jimin’s anguish, and Jimin has to remove the pillow just so he can glare at him.

“You’ve got it bad, Jiminie,” Seokjin coos, setting down the packet of biscuits. “Just accept that maybe he’s not right for you.”

Jimin snorts, “Well obviously. I didn’t realize he’d be so rude in person. He just seems really charismatic on stage, you know?”

Of course he’s charismatic. Min Yoongi, better known as Suga to his many fans, is probably one of the most charismatic underground rappers in Seoul, and Jimin is maybe, possibly, just a little bit one of his biggest fans. (But after the way Yoongi treated him tonight, he’ll be lucky if Jimin ever comes to another show.)

And so when Hoseok from his modern dance class had casually mentioned that he was best friends with Yoongi, Jimin had maybe not-so-subtly asked if Hoseok would be able to get him backstage during one of Suga’s concerts. And then Hoseok, being Hoseok, had said that he could do him one better. And apparently that meant being set up on some sort of blind date.

“Charisma isn’t everything, Jimin,” Seokjin says, crumpling the packet of biscuits (aw, that means Jimin has to go buy more) and tossing it into the trashcan. “You need a guy that’ll romance you properly. Someone who’s not a complete asshole and ditches you at a bar. Maybe someone who even buys you small silly gifts and cooks for you when you’re tired, you know?”

Jimin lifts his head and smiles gratefully, rubbing at his eyes to try to force the bitterness out of his system. So maybe Min Yoongi was a jerk, but things would still work out for him.

“Why can’t I just date you, hyung?” Jimin asks, sliding off the couch and onto the ground. Seokjin smiles down at him and stands up, putting his coat on.

“Sorry Jimin-ah, you’re not my type.”

-

Yoongi wants to cry as he stares at his phone.

mummy’s planning a party again!! yoonyoon u should bring a date! <3 i’ll set u up with the nice boy from polo club if u don’t have your own ke ke ke~~~ ok, luv u darling!

Yoongi loves his mother, and he loves how sweet and well-meaning and accepting she is, but sometimes he can’t help but think that the lady is batshit crazy.

Planning a party means that she’s in the process of throwing her yearly banquet, which as Yoongi knows means sitting through hours of boring speeches and his mother’s attempts to set him up with the latest boy from their country club or polo association. And Yoongi is thankful for the fact that his family is well off, he really does, but sometimes he wishes his mother would associate with less stuffy people. And he knows for sure that “the nice boy from the polo club” will be yet another boring rich kid that doesn’t know the first thing about hiphop and only likes talking about his hair or something. Well, fuck that.

In times like these, Yoongi turns to Namjoon.

Luckily, the fact that the junior is always on his phone means it only takes one ring for him to pick up.

“So, I need to either find a way to leave the country, or I need to find myself a date for my mom’s big party.”

Namjoon laughs, and Yoongi wishes he could send angry looks through his phone, but he’ll settle for a few angry emojis sent later. Maybe at 3 in the morning when Namjoon is sleeping.

“Lemme guess, she’s trying to set you up again?”

Yoongi groans, tightening his grip on his phone to resist the urge to throw it against a wall. “Yeah, she and Hoseok seem to be in cahoots. Why can’t I just live my life in peace?”

Namjoon hums lowly, and Yoongi picks at a loose thread on the end of his shirt until Namjoon speaks again.

“Get a date, then. It can’t be so bad. You want me or Hoseok to fake for you?”

As grateful as Yoongi is that he has friends that are willing to be his fake dates, he knows the plan won’t work. His mother knows both Hoseok and Namjoon far too well to ever be fooled into thinking that Yoongi would date either of them. He would need another friend if he wanted to carry that out, but frankly, he doesn’t have many friends, and he certainly doesn’t know anyone he’s close enough with to ask to be his fake date for a night.

“No, that won’t make sense, my mom knows you guys already,” Yoongi mumbles tiredly, closing his eyes in resignation. “I suppose I’ll just have to go with that kid from the polo association. God, I hate my life.”

Namjoon hums once more before asking, “Why don’t you ask that Jimin kid? He seemed pretty interested in you, right?”

Yoongi blanches. He had practically forgotten about Jimin, caught up between his anger at his mother and at Hoseok, and even then he had never thought that he’d ever have to talk to Jimin again.

“Jimin? The blind date kid? Come on Namjoon, you know he wouldn’t say yes if I asked him. I don’t even think he likes me anymore.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” Namjoon reminds him, “and Hoseok told me that he’s a fan of yours. I think he’d be willing to give you another shot, if you were actually nice to him this time.”

Yoongi ponders it for a moment. A fan, huh? Jimins’s a big Suga fan, and Yoongi needs a date. For some reason, Yoongi has the crazy feeling that this may play into his hands perfectly.

He hangs up on Namjoon and ignores the angry text he receives a few seconds later because he’s already dialing Hoseok’s number.

“Hyung?”

“Hi there, Hoseokie. Hyung needs a favor. What’s Park Jimin’s phone number?”

-

Jimin’s in the middle of shopping for groceries with Taehyung when he gets Yoongi’s phone call.

“Organic carrots are too expensive,” Jimin mutters, taking the bag out of Taehyung’s hands and putting it back in its basket. “Just get normal ones instead.”

“What if they’re genetically modified?” Taehyung shoots back, chewing on the skin of his thumb as Jimin dumps a bag of normal carrots into their shopping cart.

“All food is genetically modified these days,” Jimin brushes off his roommate’s concerns and ignores his shell-shocked expression as he keeps shopping. Taehyung is really the naïve flower kind of kid, filled with only good intentions and eager theories, and Jimin briefly thinks it’s funny how just some basic news about GMOs is enough to turn Taehyung’s world on its head.

They need to buy more chicken stock, Jimin counts off in his head, and bananas, and if they have money left over, maybe another pack of biscuits. The chocolate ones even, if he worked an hour extra this week.

He’s startled out of his thoughts when his phone rings, and he squints down at the number he doesn’t recognize.

“Did Jungkookie get a new number?” Jimin wonders out loud, glancing over at Taehyung. There aren’t many others who would call him aside from his parents, and he’s usually good at avoiding spam calls.

When Taehyung shakes his head no, Jimin shrugs and accepts the call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Park Jimin right? This is Min Yoongi speaking.”

And at that, Jimin hangs up his phone.

He doesn’t mean to, he’s really not like that, but a call from Yoongi was the last things he had been expecting and frankly, Jimin wasn’t prepared. He stares at his phone in shock because Min Yoongi, because Suga, had actually bothered to find his number and call him and he has absolutely no idea what that entails.

“Who was that?” Taehyung asks curiously, leaning over Jimin’s shoulder to try to peek at the screen of his phone. Jimin turns to face his friend with wide eyes.

“It was Yoongi. Yoongi fucking called me!”

Taehyung doesn’t look happy. “Yoongi as in Suga Yoongi? Didn’t he ditch you at a bar?” His face sets obstinately and Jimin enjoys the warm feeling of having his best friend get upset on his behalf. “I don’t like him.”

“Maybe he called to apologize,” Jimin wonders quietly, and ignores the sound of Taehyung scoffing. He drags the cart to the side of the vegetable section so they aren’t blocking anyone’s way before redialing Yoongi’s number.

“Jimin?”

“Yoongi-ssi?” Jimin asks hesitantly, looking away from Taehyung who’s making slicing motions above his throat. “You called me?”

“Yeah, listen,” Yoongi’s voice sounds heavy, like maybe he just woke up from a nap or was tired after a long studio session, and Jimin smiles to himself as he considers all the possibilities. “I realize that I was maybe a little… harsh, back at the bar. I’m not good with first impressions, you know. I really didn’t mean to be rude to you.”

“Forgiven and forgotten,” Jimin replies maybe a little too enthusiastically, and he turns around so he doesn’t have to see the incredulous look on Taehyung’s face.

“So, now that that’s out of the way,” Yoongi sighs in relief, and Jimin thinks that his voice, which sounds amazing when he raps, must be magic because it sounds good all the time, “do you want to try again? I’m going to a banquet this weekend, and I’d like if you would be my plus one.”

Jimin’s on the verge of shouting yes when he stops and thinks about it.

Min Yoongi, the cold, standoffish person who had left him floundering at the bar, suddenly calls out of the blue and asks to take Jimin to a fancy party? Maybe Taehyung’s right and it is too good to be true. Jimin turns and catches the warning glint in Taehyung’s eyes before rubbing the back of his neck and going back to his phone.

“You don’t really mean any of this, do you?” Jimin says slowly.

“You just want me to be your date for the night, probably because it’s convenient. What do I look like to you, some sort of escort? I know that Hoseok hyung probably said that I like you but he’s wrong, you know. I’m not like that,” Jimin continues, his tone slowly becoming more and more hostile. He’s sort of a naïve person and he knows it, and he really doesn’t want to get taken advantage of again just because he’s naturally enthusiastic.

“Whoa, where did you get all of that?” Yoongi interrupts him. “Have you considered that maybe I’m serious about wanting to make it up to you?”

Jimin’s not convinced. But Yoongi does sound really honest, at least. And Jimin’s never been to a banquet before, and he’s not usually one to turn down free food.

“Okay, I’ll go with you,” Jimin finally answers, and he can practically hear Yoongi’s smug smile through the phone. “But you have to take me to your next concert, okay? Or I won’t go to the banquet with you.”

There’s a moment of silence on Yoongi’s end.

“Are you trying to blackmail me?”

Jimin bites at his lip. “Is it working?”

There are a few more moments of silence before Yoongi sighs heavily. “Fine, I’ll get you some VIP club passes and take you to the concert. Just text me your address and I’ll come pick you up for the banquet on Friday, okay?” And then Yoongi hangs up on him, but Jimin doesn’t really notice as he turns to Taehyung and pumps his fist in celebration.

“We’re gonna get VIP passes to the next underground concert!”

And for some reason, Taehyung doesn’t look nearly as happy as Jimin does.

“What, in exchange for you going on a date with him?”

“It’s not really a date,” Jimin waves him off, already excited at the prospect of an upcoming concert, “I think it’s more of a formal thing and he just needs a plus one. And maybe he picked me because he knows I’m cute.” He presses a finger to his cheek and grins cheesily at Taehyung, already planning his outfit in his head.

“Put that aegyo away,” Taehyung mumbles, swatting at Jimin’s hand. “You just pimped yourself out for concert passes.”

-

Yoongi’s been standing outside of Jimin’s apartment complex for twenty minutes. He’d arrived precisely at 5:30, right when he said he would, and he’s positive he’s at the right place because he triple checked Jimin’s address.

“This kid,” Yoongi mutters angrily to himself, digging through the pocket of his slacks to try to get his phone out and send a few bitter texts to the younger boy.

It’s five minutes longer until he sees Jimin come running out of one of the apartment doors and Yoongi leans against his car, crossing his arms.

“You’re late,” Yoongi admonishes, casting a critical look at Jimin’s scuffed leather shoes. He can feel the awkward atmosphere between them, thick like wood, and wonders if maybe his apology wasn’t enough to make up for the fact that he had treated Jimin badly the first time they had met.

“Fashionably, I hope,” Jimin tries to joke, and then stares down at the ground when he realizes that Yoongi’s not in a humorous mood. “I’m sorry, I had to pick up my suit from the cleaner’s because I don’t wear it much.”

And that’s when Yoongi takes a moment to actually look Jimin over and damn, does the kid clean up nicely. Jimin’s shoulders don’t really fill out the padded ones of his suit, but it cinches neatly at his narrow waist and his slacks fit just tight enough around his thighs and Yoongi thinks that Jimin should never wear a sweatshirt ever again when he looks so much better in well-fitted clothes like these. And if the sleeves of his suit are just a little too short, Yoongi can let it go just this once.

“Your tie is tied wrong,” Yoongi finally murmurs, leaning forward to slide Jimin’s tie out of the knot so he can redo it for him. “This banquet is important for me, you should look nice for it.”

Jimin’s lips are uncomfortably close to Yoongi’s ear as he leans over to loop the tie around Jimin’s neck, and he can feel Jimin’s warm breaths spread over his skin slowly. Yoongi finishes as quickly as possible and then leans back to admire his handiwork.

“Okay, all set. Get in, sweetcheeks.”

Jimin opens the passenger seat door, but shoots Yoongi a face. “Sweetcheeks?”

Yoongi shrugs, “Hey, you’re my date for the night, right? I can call you that. Or do you prefer honey?”

“How about you just call me Jimin,” the sophomore replies moodily, sitting down and shutting the door softly like he’s afraid of damaging the car—which, Yoongi will admit, is rather expensive. Once Yoongi starts driving—and it’s Yoongi who’s driving today instead of the family chauffeur, because Yoongi thinks that he and Jimin are already awkward enough without a third party—the atmosphere levels out a little bit, and Yoongi looks over to see that Jimin is looking out the window curiously.

“I’m a little nervous,” Jimin blurts out, and Yoongi smiles a bit when he sees Jimin’s neck flush in embarrassment. Cute.

“Why, because this is a big important banquet filled with big important people?”

At that, Jimin shoots Yoongi a dirty look.

“There’s really nothing to be nervous about,” Yoongi soothes, “since everyone is usually too wrapped up in themselves to notice anyone else. As long as you don’t do anything insane, which doesn’t really seem like you, then you’ll be fine.”

Jimin nods, but the way he’s toying with his sleeves tells Yoongi that he’s still nervous, so he continues talking.

“It’s not a bad kind of lifestyle, overall. It’s just stuffy, which is why I just need a chance away from it all sometimes. That’s why I got into the underground.”

At that, Jimin turns his head. “I’ve heard you before. You’re really good—really good. You’re my favorite rapper, actually.”

Yoongi smiles at the excitement he sees in Jimin’s gaze.

“Am I?” he asks coyly, deciding to savor the hero worship while he can. It’s not every day that he gets to talk to people other than Namjoon and Hoseok that actually like his music anyway.

“Yeah,” Jimin breathes, “your songs are amazing.”

Yoongi turns his eyes back to the road just in time to hit the brakes at a stop sign. “Well, luckily you’ll get to hear them up close and personal in a few days then.”

He doesn’t say anything more to Jimin until they reach the banquet hall, at which point Yoongi gestures for Jimin to get out so the valets can take care of their car. He ends up guiding Jimin inside because the younger honestly looks sort of lost among all the paper placeholders and placards littering the hall.

“I’ll introduce you to my mother, since this is sort of her party,” Yoongi says, hoping to diffuse Jimin’s nervousness, “and then we can think of ways to try to hide from all the boring people here.”

Jimin looks at Yoongi with a confused expression, as if he can’t recognize a joke when it comes out of Yoongi’s mouth, and so Yoongi just rolls his eyes and wraps his arm around Jimin’s waist and pulls him over to where he can see his mother standing in the center of the room.

“Oh, Yoonyoon, you made it!”

His mother is, as always, loud and ostentatious. Today’s no different as Yoongi takes in her crystal-bedecked evening gown, but his chest puffs out a little as he notices his mother looking over Jimin approvingly. Jimin, for his part, still looks a little lost, but he still has the sense to reach a hand out and introduce himself politely to Yoongi’s parents, and Yoongi wonders how the planets must have aligned for Yoongi to be here, watching his supposed-biggest-fan-and-date-but-not-really meet his mother. He feels a little like he’s in the Twilight Zone or something.

“I’m going to show Jimin to the gardens outside,” Yoongi interrupts loudly, not interested in hearing his mother question Jimin about his family and hobbies and whatnot. He ignores his mother’s exaggerated wink rather successfully, but ignores Jimin’s blushed cheeks less so.

He practically has to drag Jimin out the ornate back doors and into the neatly trimmed rows of hedges in the garden, and sits down on a sculpted metal bench before finally letting out the breath he’s been holding all evening.

“Sorry about my family,” Yoongi explains to Jimin, who’s looking directly at Yoongi for maybe the first time tonight. “My parents are kind of, uh, high society, you see. They throw parties like this every year and invite all these businessmen and government officials and other people that I couldn’t care less about, and every single time my mom tries to set me up with the most boring people and I really would rather be alone than be set up like that, but she just doesn’t get it, you know?”

And wow, he hadn’t meant for all of that to pour out of his mouth like that, but luckily Jimin doesn’t seem too phased.

“That does sound hard,” Jimin murmurs back, leaning his shoulder against Yoongi’s as he looks up at the sky.  Jimin takes in the stars, and Yoongi takes in the way Jimin’s eyes go soft with understanding, the way he tips his head back and breathes deeply when he thinks. Jimin opens his mouth, as if he’s about to say something more, but then Yoongi’s father calls them back inside and Yoongi never gets to find out what it is.

The rest of the banquet passes without much incident, and even though Yoongi’s mother looks a little appalled at the speed with which Jimin scarfs down his seven-course meal, the sophomore has enough charm to win her over anyway. Yoongi, for once, is able to leave the banquet early, claiming that he needs to get Jimin home in time for his curfew, which he knows really doesn’t exist. His mother nods sympathetically before leaning over to whisper something in Jimin’s ear that makes him flush red all the way from his hairline to where his skin disappears under the collar of his dress shirt, but Yoongi doesn’t have time to think about what might have caused such a reaction before Jimin’s looping his arm through Yoongi’s and dragging him out to the parking lot.

“What was that all about?” Yoongi asks curiously, digging through his packet for his spare keys since Jimin had totally bypassed the valets on his way out. He could always return for them tomorrow, Yoongi figured.

“Your mother is, uh,” Jimin coughs, “very interested in your bedroom life. She thinks I have something to do with it, I guess.”

And yeah, that’s enough to make Yoongi blush too.

“She’s so weird,” Yoongi mumbles awkwardly, unlocking the car and settling inside.

Jimin smiles tentatively, “I like her.”

For some reason, the words stir a pit of some sort of hot emotion in Yoongi’s stomach, and so he doesn’t say anything more to Jimin during the night other than a quiet goodbye when they arrive back at his apartment. If Yoongi feels bad about the lost and maybe slightly-hurt look on Jimin’s face, he doesn’t show it.

-

The club passes to the concert arrive in an unmarked manila envelope, haphazardly shoved underneath the front door to their apartment.

“Damn,” Taehyung remarks, pulling out four sleek passes from the envelope, “the underground doesn’t do things lightly, I guess.”

“I wanna see,” Jungkook says excitedly, a flurry of long limbs and baggy clothing as he practically climbs onto Taehyung’s back to grab at the passes. “Oh, they look like those black credit cards you always see on TV. You know, the ones that have no limit? I wonder if I could get away with buying food with these, the lady at the convenience shop is so blind that it might work.”

Jimin looks up from where he’s standing in the kitchen, trying to find the jar of red pepper paste in the pantry. He scowls at the youngest of them, but even Jungkook can tell that there isn’t any real venom behind it.

“Why do you need to hustle old ladies out of food when you already eat all of ours?” Jimin asks, wiping his hands on his jeans before walking over to peer at the passes.

“There are four? Cool, let’s invite Seokjin hyung too then,” Jimin suggests, flopping down onto the couch and stretching out his arms to relieve some of the knots in his neck.  Jungkook notices the action and moves over so he can rub at Jimin’s shoulders, earning himself a grateful smile from the older.

Taehyung nods, “Yeah, let’s take hyung with us, he likes clubs. If you mention that the passes are gifts from your new boyfriend, I bet Seokjin hyung will even bake cookies to thank him.”

At that, Jimin breaks away from Jungkook’s massage so he can smoosh his hands into Taehyung’s cheeks, trying to wipe the dirty grin off his face because no Taehyung, he and Yoongi were definitely not like that.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Jimin says heatedly, settling back down onto the couch. “We’re not even friends.”

“Maybe you’re friends with benefits,’ Jungkook chimes in cheerfully, and Jimin sends him a betrayed look that is promptly ignored. “After all, you guys just do favors for each other, right?”

Jimin flushes red, and he’s not really sure why. After all, Jungkook technically isn’t wrong. Their relationship—if you could even call their interactions that—centers around Jimin being Yoongi’s one-time date and Yoongi compensating him for it in the form of VIP passes. They really are just exchanging favors, but something about describing it like that leaves a cheap, metallic taste in Jimin’s mouth. And Jungkook was speaking as if he was trying to imply some sort of friendly (or maybe more than friendly) quality to their relationship that they just don’t have.

“You’re like a call boy,” Taehyung supplies unhelpfully, “and he’s like your sugar daddy. Your Suga daddy! Get it?”

And even though Taehyung’s been Jimin’s best and closest friend for the past five years, there’s still only a small thread of restraint that stops Jimin from ripping out all of Taehyung’s hair. But sadly he needs Taehyung to stick around, if for nothing else than to pay his half of the rent, so Jimin settles for simply seething at his roommate instead.

“He is not,” Jimin bursts out, stuffing the passes back into their envelope. Jungkook’s on the floor, laughing so hard that he’s practically crying, and Jimin aims a kick at his side to help make himself feel better.

“Besides,” Jimin continues, “this was a one-time thing, so don’t get ahead of yourselves. After the concert, I’ll never have to talk to him ever again.”

And Jimin doesn’t know what it means, but the words cause a lump to settle in his throat. Stupid Yoongi with his stupid nice face and stupid attractiveness.

-

The clubs are always packed when Suga and Rap Monster perform, and while Yoongi appreciates that his fans come out to support him, he’ll admit that at times they all seem to blur together into one large, dark mass when he gets up on stage.

So of course Park Jimin, being Park Jimin, has to stick out like a sore thumb.

He’s right up in the front, sandwiched between the much-taller forms of Seokjin the waiter and two other boys that Yoongi doesn’t recognize, and Jimin seems so little in comparison that it should be easy for the crowd to swallow him right up. And yet somehow, Yoongi can still see the burning imprint of Jimin’s too-excited face on the backs of his eyelids every time he shuts his eyes.

This sucks.

“Big crowd tonight,” Namjoon murmurs from his place at Yoongi’s side. His eyes are covered by sunglasses (and internally, Yoongi’s mocking him for being that guy who wears sunglasses in an already-darkened club) but Yoongi can tell by the angle of his head that he’s staring in Jimin’s direction.

Hoseok bounds over to them, his energy levels even higher than usual, and Yoongi reminds himself not to get annoyed with Hoseok tonight because he knows that the boy’s just acting extra rambunctious to hide his disappointment that J-Hope won’t be making an appearance tonight, since Hoseok’s voice is shot from a nasty cough.

“Full crowd!” Hoseok practically shouts it into Yoongi’s ear, his smile only widening in response to the resulting glare that Yoongi shoots him. “And look, Jiminie actually showed up!”

Yoongi can hear Namjoon snickering, but Hoseok gets to him first: “Look, Namjoon, he brought that hyung that you lust after.”

Yoongi ignores the pair’s ensuing argument and steps up to the side of the stage, turning his microphone over in his hands. He doesn’t usually get nervous when he raps—music is, after all, the only thing Yoongi is completely confident in—but for some reason, seeing Jimin out in the audience makes him feel like it’s his first time performing all over again. It’s because Jimin really loves Suga, Yoongi tries to explain to himself, and Yoongi’s not used to the idea that his fans really do like his music and aren’t just showing up for the thrill of a live show.

But there’s something about Park Jimin that throws Yoongi for a loop, and he doesn’t like it.

He doesn’t really have any more time to think about it though because Hoseok’s suddenly shoving him and Namjoon up onto the cramped little stage, and their playlist is suddenly blasting from the speakers, and before Yoongi knows it, he’s rapping.

Damn, does it feel good to get up on stage and blow out some eardrums again.

And if Yoongi leans over and rasps the words “my testosterone is rising” right in Jimin’s face, he’s only doing it out of spite.

-

Suga must be Yoongi’s secret twin or something, Jimin thinks, because there’s no way that the charismatic, intense rapper from an hour ago can be the same person as the grumpy college senior that’s currently sprawled out over one of the ratty sofas in the club’s back room.

Jimin’s not complaining, though,  because the way Yoongi pushes back his sweat-slick hair is still too attractive for Jimin to know how to deal with.

“So did you like the show?”

Jimin’s grateful that he can always count on Hoseok to diffuse any awkwardness in the air. Normally, that sort of thing is Seokjin’s job, but the eldest hyung had mysteriously disappeared nearly right after the show, leaving only Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung to go backstage to meet Hoseok and Yoongi.

“It was amazing,” Taehyung cuts in before Jimin can reply, waving his hands around excitedly. “It was like we were hearing pros from LA or something.”

The praise is enough to get Yoongi to finally smile, and Jimin nods his head in agreement.

“I’ve been to a lot of your performances,” Jimin says, turning to face Hoseok even as he directs the words to Yoongi in his head. “This was one of your best.”

From the corner of his eye, Jimin catches Yoongi’s smile widening, but he doesn’t turn to smile back because—what’s the point? They’re not friends, they’re not anything, and Jimin really doesn’t need to delude himself into thinking that they are.

They don’t stay for long, since Jungkook needs to head back to the dorms before they lock the doors at 2 am, so they chat for just a little longer before excusing themselves (and at this point, Seokjin miraculously turns up again).

Jimin’s the last out of the club since he takes a few minutes extra to try to find his jacket—hey, it’s not his fault that every guy in Seoul owns a generic black coat, and there’s no way he’ll revert to being a baby like Taehyung and write his name on the inside of all of his clothing. He’s busy checking all the labels of the jackets when a hand claps over his mouth, muffling his yell of surprise as he’s forced further into the coat check room.

“Relax, it’s just me.”

Yoongi’s voice sounds slightly hoarse, and Jimin figures it’s the natural result of rapping so loudly all night.

“You almost gave me a heart attack, hyung,” Jimin complains quietly, and huh, he’s not sure when he graduated from ‘Yoongi-ssi’ to ‘hyung.’

“Sorry, but listen,” Yoongi sounds impatient, his eyes darting to land everywhere but on Jimin. “I need you to do another favor for me.”

Jimin can hardly believe his ears. “What?”

Yoongi nods, and Jimin marvels at the sight of Yoongi looking so unsure for once. Normally, either as Suga the rapper or just as Min Yoongi the grouch, he’s so calm, confident, even cocky, and it intrigues Jimin to see the other boy act uncertain.

“I need to deliver a speech at my dad’s new restaurant opening,” Yoongi explains, looking down at the scuffed toes of his boots. “And, well, I need to run it by someone. And Hoseok and Namjoon, they’re great and all, but they don’t really understand what it is that my parents do, you know? And… you went to the banquet with me, so you know the boring types of people they hang around with-”

Jimin can see where this is going, and as endearing as it is to hear Yoongi rambling like this, he really doesn’t have much time to sit around and talk.

“Okay, fine, you want me to see if your speech will sound okay. I’ll help you practice. If,” Jimin adds hastily, not wanting to be taken advantage of, “you buy me jajangmyeon later. I think I’m craving it.”

Yoongi looks at him like he’s suddenly sprouted a new eye before rubbing at the bridge of his nose and nodding. “You want noodles? Fine, I’ll buy you noodles.”

Oh yes, free food.

“Thanks, hyung-nim,” Jimin chirps, sliding his arms into his coat before hurrying out of the coat room. “Text me when and where you want to meet up!”

Jimin’s gone too quickly to catch Yoongi staring at him.

-

Luckily, Jimin turns out to be a good speech coach.

Yoongi isn’t really afraid of public speaking, but he thinks he lacks the sort of exuberant (cute) stage presence that Jimin seems to possess naturally, and so even though it stings at his pride a little to ask someone two years younger for help, Yoongi ends up appreciating his advice.

He ends up convincing Jimin to attend the opening with him as well, even though the younger is reluctant at first.

“Come on, Jimin, it would look better if I showed up with a little arm candy.”

“Arm candy?”

So maybe Yoongi’s not the smoothest with words if he’s not rapping them, but somehow he still manages to get Jimin to agree to go with him. And it’s not like the banquet date or anything, Yoongi swears, because that was different and this is just Jimin showing up as a friend and moral support for Yoongi’s first ever big speech for his family. It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean anything.

Jimin demands two bowls of jajangmyeon in return for having to sit through more of Yoongi’s family business shit, and Yoongi agrees readily this time because it’s really not too expensive and the fact that Jimin thinks it’s some sort of big treat is a little sad, Yoongi thinks. He doesn’t know too much about the younger’s family situation, but from their limited time together at the banquet he’d picked up that Jimin’s family lives all the way back in Busan and he’s here paying his way through college on his own.

Honestly, Yoongi would buy him a lot more than just two bowls of jajangmyeon. And not just because he’s cute.

In the few weeks that lead up to the restaurant opening, Yoongi and Jimin manage to fall into some sort of friendly routine. They meet up every Tuesday and Thursday right after Jimin’s modern dance lessons, and normally spend the evening holed up in Jimin’s apartment. Sometimes Taehyung joins them, but mostly he’s content to stay away and let the two boys work on Yoongi’s speech together. Most of the time though, Yoongi and Jimin just talk about things like how their days were and what schoolwork they have to do and what crazy thing just happened in their families.

Yoongi learns that Jimin has a little brother he loves dearly, and used to be a big fan of baseball until he figured out he really loved to dance, and that he was always a little afraid that his father wouldn’t like that about him. He finds out that Jimin hates the dance diet at SeoulArts and is a pretty decent singer (he loves BigBang) and is much better friends with Hoseok than Yoongi had originally thought. Jimin tells him about his day, complains about his Music Theory I teacher, and Yoongi uses his two years of extra school experience to tell Jimin that the Music Theory II teacher is even worse.

They talk like friends, and eventually they get to the point where Jimin’s number is saved as “Armcandy” in Yoongi’s phone, and his display photo is one of Jimin’s left foot (because Jimin’s weird like that), and Yoongi receives exactly two waaaaah hyung~ texts per day.

The restaurant opening goes by smoothly, and Yoongi thinks it’s kind of cute the way Jimin gives him a standing ovation when everyone else just claps politely from their seats. They don’t actually eat at the restaurant, however, because as soon as he’s done speaking Yoongi takes Jimin out to get the first of his promised two servings of jajangmyeon,

He dutifully drops Jimin off at home at the end of the night, drives himself back to his own apartment, and then is all the way in bed before he finally thinks that holy shit, he might have just gone on a date with Park Jimin.

-

“So, are you guys fucking or what?”

The words make Jimin choke on his rice, and his wipes some pickled radish off of his face before turning to glare at Taehyung.

“Shut up, it’s not like that,” Jimin mutters bitterly. He imagines his bowl of rice as Taehyung’s face and stabs his chopsticks into it.

“He bought you dinner,” Taehyung points out, leaning back against the sofa and propping his feet over Jimin’s lap. Jimin hastily moves his rice before Taehyung dips his toes into it, then sets it back down and resumes eating.

“And you guys are already planning to go out to dinner again. And, you text him like, all the time. His name has a smiley face next to it in your phone. A smiley face!” Taehyung continues, chewing noisily on some taffy candy as he idly flips through the television channels. Jimin pauses mid-bite, little bits of rice falling from his chopsticks.

“Will you stop acting like we’re dating?” Jimin grumbles, leaning over to set his bowl of rice down on the ground. He’s suddenly not hungry anymore, he decides, and maybe if he gets the rice back into the fridge quickly it’ll still be good for him to eat in the morning.

“Yoongi hyung was just paying me back for helping him with his speech, that’s all.”

Taehyung coughs, loud and fake, and somewhere in the middle of it Jimin thinks he hears the words ‘sugar baby’ so he throws Taehyung’s legs off of his lap and doesn’t bother helping when the other tumbles onto the ground.

“But do you like him?” Taehyung finally asks, his voice a bit quieter than what Jimin’s used to, and Jimin looks down to see that his friend’s eyes are wide in sincerity. Jimin relents and helps Taehyung back onto the couch, and considers himself lucky that he has a friend that’s just genuinely trying to look out for him. Taehyung may say some dumb stuff, but Jimin knows that their friendship is one of his top priorities and the thought comforts him more than he can say.

“I don’t know,” Jimin says back, trying to be as honest as possible. He’s still not sure about their relationship himself, and it’s difficult for him to verbalize what he’s feeling. “At least I don’t think so? I don’t know if he really considers me his friend yet.”

And maybe that’s not true, because Jimin knows Yoongi would have long rejected his cutesy texts and attempts to be friendly if that were the case.

“I don’t want to like him. I know it wouldn’t work out,” Jimin settles on finally, shrugging.

Taehyung shuts up for once and scoots closer and lays his head atop of Jimin’s, his long arms encircling Jimin’s waist, and Jimin’s grateful for the comfort even if he doesn’t exactly know what it’s for.

“Hey, at least you’re going to get one more bowl of noodles out of this deal,” Taehyung says, and Jimin lets himself laugh at that.

“This time, bring some leftovers home for me.”

“I will.”

-

Somehow, their second dinner together feels even more like a date to Yoongi than the first one.

Jimin’s got his head down as he works on devouring the noodles as fast as possible, and Yoongi’s sat across from him thinking that this scene looks weirdly domestic and he’s not sure if he likes it or not.

“Slow down,” Yoongi finally says, reaching out to actually pull Jimin’s bowl away from him so he can’t choke to death on a too-large mouthful. “They’re not going to disappear if you eat a little slower.”

Jimin looks up and flashes him a sheepish look, and Yoongi doesn’t want to deal with this new blossoming warm feeling in his chest so he looks away as he pushes the bowl back in place.

“It’s just really good,” Jimin explains, eating a bit slower. It’s not much of an improvement, honestly, but Yoongi will take it. “I don’t eat out very often. Gotta save up!”

Yoongi pulls a face, “What kind of job do you work that doesn’t pay you enough to go eat jajangmyeon?” At the question, Jimin’s face turns a familiar shade of red, and Yoongi’s not trying to pay more attention to it than usual but it’s not working.

“I just figure that it’s better to save for a rainy day, you know?” Jimin explains, slurping down the last of the noodles between his words. “Besides, why spend all my money on jajangmyeon when I can save up and splurge on meat later?”

The raw enthusiasm on Jimin’s face makes Yoongi laugh. “So you’re okay with spending all of my money on it then?”

Jimin suddenly sets his chopsticks down, a stricken expression forming on his face, and it takes Yoongi less than a second to figure out that he’s said the wrong thing.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin mumbles, staring into the depths of his empty bowl. “I didn’t mean to bother you about this, really, I just thought it would be a fun-”

“Jimin.” Yoongi reaches out and presses his thumb against Jimin’s mouth to shut him up, and it’s only when Jimin’s ears turn a deep beet red that Yoongi realizes his gesture may have come off as a bit more than what he intended. He pulls his hand back quickly before he continues.

“It’s fine, really. I don’t want this to sound bad but, well, you’ve seen what my parents are like. I have enough money that I can afford to treat a friend to noodles every once in a while.”

And shit, Yoongi might have missed the fact that he had called Jimin his friend if it wasn’t for the way that Jimin smiles beatifically at him, all toothy and droopy-eyed, and Yoongi doesn’t know if he wants to look away or needs to keep staring.

They end up at Yoongi’s for the night somehow, because Jimin realizes that he’d left his keys in his jacket pocket at home and Taehyung’s spending the night at a friend’s, which means Jimin has no way of getting inside.

“It’s fine, just go in,” Yoongi mumbles, pushing a protesting Jimin into his own apartment building which, Yoongi notes in dismay, is much more large and well-kept than Jimin’s. Yoongi presses the button for the fifteenth floor and watches as Jimin’s mouth opens a little as he takes in the sleek, mirrored elevator and polished brass handrails.

Yoongi suddenly feels a little embarrassed about the fact that he lives more luxuriously than most other students, but hey, he earns his rent fairly through his rap gigs and doesn’t rely on his parents anymore really, and he figures that he’ll soothe his conscience by buying Jimin some more food later (and not just because he enjoys seeing how the younger boy’s face lights up).

“Wow, this place is nice,” Jimin remarks as Yoongi leads him inside his apartment, keeping his arms tight against his side as if he’s afraid of touching any of the furniture. Yoongi scoffs a little at the dumb gesture and shoves Jimin down to sit on the couch.

“You can crash here tonight,” Yoongi mumbles, and tries not to think about how they’ve gone from strangers to fake-dates to friends-sorta-having-sleepovers in the matter of a few weeks. Jimin toes his shoes off before pulling his legs up underneath him, smiling unassumingly up at Yoongi, and he suddenly gets the image of an eager little puppy trying to be polite.

“It’s pretty early to go to sleep,” Jimin mumbles hesitantly, scratching at the back of his head. Yoongi checks his watch to see that it’s only just passing 9 pm, and yeah, that’s early even by Yoongi’s standards, and God knows that Yoongi loves his sleep.

“I’ll put a movie on,” Yoongi decides quickly, not wanting to get into a useless back-and-forth of ‘what do you want to do?’ as he rushes over to the DVD stand and picks out a random movie.

It turns out that Jimin absolutely cannot watch horror movies, and halfway through The Shining Yoongi needs to pry Jimin off his shirt so he can get up and rip the disc out of the player, switching in a generic rom-com instead. Jimin’s much more comfortable with that, Yoongi discovers, but he also discovers that Jimin is absolutely incapable of keeping his hands to himself as he keeps inching towards Yoongi.

Yoongi’s not sure what to make of it. On one hand, he was pretty sure that Jimin had been this touchy with his roommate (Taetae?) when they had both come to the concert, so this may just be how Jimin is naturally. Jimin does seem like the cuddly type, after all. Not that Yoongi thinks about that or anything.

But at the same time, Yoongi can’t help but be painfully aware of the fact that the two characters on the screen are making out and Jimin’s laying down and his head is on Yoongi’s lap and oh fuck—Jimin’s asleep.

“Goddamn, couldn’t you have stayed awake a little longer,” Yoongi whispers, staring down at Jimin’s sleeping form. He doesn’t look much different in his sleep, Yoongi thinks, and he doesn’t understand how others can describe sleeping people as ‘angelic’ when Jimin’s face is slack and his mouth is slightly open and it’s definitely not the most attractive he’s ever looked. Angelic his ass.

But the longer Yoongi looks at Jimin the more he appreciates the little details to his face, like how his eyelashes are long and flutter against his high cheekbones, how his hair shines in the dim light of the television screen, how his lips are slightly parted and move with every breath he takes.

And okay, maybe Park Jimin is just a little angelic.

He’s a little stuck, Yoongi realizes belatedly. He can’t really move without dislodging Jimin, but the younger boy looks so tired sometimes (Yoongi knows it’s because he and Hoseok are working hard for the dance team, and Jimin’s mentioned a few times that he’s been trying to work out a solo) that Yoongi can’t bear to contribute to the bags under his eyes.

He sighs once, and then carefully rearranges himself until he can lean back comfortably against the back of the couch, Jimin still in his lap. He turns the television screen off, blinks twice in the darkness, and then shuts his eyes and tries to fall asleep.

He’ll have to explain this to Jimin in the morning.

-

“You fell asleep on him?”

Jimin swats at Seokjin’s shoulder half-heartedly before burying his face in his hands. “I’m so embarrassed.”

Seokjin, to his credit, doesn’t laugh, and simply slices his sandwich into two before sliding a half over to Jimin.

Jimin accepts the food gratefully and takes a big bite before screwing his eyes shut in shame again. Just the memory of waking up in Yoongi’s lap and looking up to see the older boy already long-awake, scrolling lazily through his phone, was enough to get Jimin to cringe. He’s still ashamed of the way he had stammered and stuttered, shoving his feet into his shoes hastily before practically fleeing from Yoongi’s apartment.

“How could I just fall asleep like that?” Jimin wonders out loud, taking another bite from the sandwich. He can barely make out Seokjin smiling knowingly at him from the corner of his eye.

“Yah, what kind of person are you?” Jimin asks accusingly, waving his tuna sandwich at Seokjin, who only looks more amused. “You’re not even upset that your dongsaeng is falling asleep in the laps of strange men? Shouldn’t you be looking out for me, hyung?”

Seokjin leans forward and very deliberately lays a hand on Jimin’s head, and Jimin can’t help but think that his smile looks a little predatory.

“You never told me you were on his lap, Jimin-ah.”

At that, Jimin hastily stands up and storms out of the student lounge, deciding that the library is a much better place to study anyway because there are less people and that means less noise. Most importantly, the library doesn’t have annoying hyungs that give him grief about Min Yoongi (even if they are nice and make extra sandwiches).

He manages to make his way into the library without incident, and even finds an empty table—which is a rarity with finals coming up—where he can open up his textbooks and try to force any thoughts of the previous night out of his head.

But apparently Jimin just has the worst luck because as soon as he’s got his Calculus homework open, he hears a terribly familiar voice say, “Oh, fuck, I almost forgot you go here too.”

Jimin almost gets whiplash from how fast he turns his head to look at Yoongi. He immediately regrets it because Yoongi looks good, dressed in tight white pants and a black button down, his faded pink hair falling into his eyes. Jimin thinks that maybe the bags under Yoongi’s eyes look a little darker than usual, and feels a brief twinge of guilt because it might be his fault for keeping him up late.

“Oh, hi.” Jimin has to clear his throat before speaking, and even then he sounds nervous.

“Mind if I sit here? There are no free tables,” Yoongi mutters, not meeting Jimin’s eyes. Clearly after the events of last night they’re still awkward with each other, so Jimin decides not to make things worse and shoves his stuff away from one half of the table. Yoongi smiles thinly and sits, taking out a familiar biology textbook.

“Is that for the ecology course?” Jimin asks curiously, leaning across the table. Yoongi looks up in surprise before nodding.

“Yeah, my dumb past self decided it would be a good idea to wait to take my science credits until senior year. Now I’m stuck writing an essay on plants.”

Jimin grins, “I took that course first semester. It’s really easy, you know.”

Yoongi shoots him a bitter look, but by this point Jimin knows enough about the senior to be able to tell that Yoongi is rarely ever actually upset, so Jimin tells himself not to feel bad. Yoongi goes back to his books, and Jimin tries to go back to math but he can’t keep himself from sneaking glances at the elder, trying to work up the courage to speak.

“What is it? I can feel you staring,” Yoongi asks tiredly, not looking up from his book. Jimin can practically feel his pulse stop.

“I, uh, just wanted to say thanks for not waking me up last night,” Jimin squeaks, and he immediately hates how dumb he sounds.

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Yoongi replies casually, flipping the pages of his book. He doesn’t say anything else, and Jimin recognizes it as a silent way of saying ‘now shut up and let me work’ so he does. It’s only when Yoongi slams his book closed and bangs his head on the desk when Jimin looks up again, his pencil still poised over sin²Θ.

“Writer’s block?” Jimin suggests, ignoring the bitter scowl that Yoongi turns his head and flashes him.

“I have no idea what this class is about,” Yoongi mumbles, shutting his eyes. He doesn’t say anything else for a while, and Jimin wonders if he’s maybe fallen asleep. If that is the case, then Jimin’s definitely a little interested because he’s never seen Yoongi sleep before (and he realizes that Yoongi can’t say the same about Jimin) so he capitalizes on the opportunity to watch how Yoongi’s face relaxes, how the usually-stern lines of his moth even out, how he twitches his nose.

It’s when Yoongi lets out a deep sigh that Jimin realizes he’s not sleeping.

“I can feel you staring again.”

Jimin feels the familiar creep of embarrassment before blurting out, “I can write your essay?”

Yoongi opens his eyes in surprise and Jimin shakes his head quickly before continuing.

“I mean, I won’t write it for you, because that’s cheating, and how would you learn otherwise? But I have my copy of the final essay saved on my laptop, and if you want, I could send it to you. Just as a reference or something,” Jimin finishes, half in disbelief at his own words. He tells himself that it’s okay because Yoongi clearly is having a hard time and there’s no way he’d ever ask for help himself, so it has to be Jimin that steps up this time.

“You’d do that?” Yoongi asks, sounding incredulous, and Jimin’s already tired of seeing the exhausted set to Yoongi’s face so he nods.

“Yeah, give me your email address,” he demands, sliding a piece of paper and his pen over to Yoongi, who scrawls sugasuga007 and returns it. Jimin smiles at the dumb username, but he’s sure that Yoongi will punch him is he mentions anything about it so he keeps quiet.

“Thanks, Jiminie,” Yoongi sighs in relief, stuffing his textbook back into his backpack. Jimin’s glad Yoongi’s looking down at the floor, because that way he misses seeing how Jimin’s eyes grow wide at the nickname.

“So,” Yoongi says, and Jimin quickly takes a deep breath to ground himself as Yoongi meets his eyes, “I’m guessing you want another bowl of jajangmyeon for this?”

Jimin stops to consider the implications of this. He hadn’t even mentioned it this time around, and yet Yoongi had still assumed that Jimin was doing this because he needed to mooch off of Yoongi’s money. No, he was doing this for another reason entirely.

“Do you think that I only help you because I want free food?” he says lowly, looking down at his hands. Jungkook and Taehyung had been right; apparently Jimin is nothing more than some sort of call boy to Yoongi. “I help you because I want to, hyung.”

Yoongi reaches out to nudge Jimin’s shoulder, and the younger is silenced by the disappointment he can see in Yoongi’s eyes.

“And I buy you food because I like doing it,” Yoongi explains, and as earnest as he looks Jimin can’t help but let the hot pit of guilt and shame in his stomach swallow him whole.

“I’m not a charity case,” Jimin mumbles, gathering his stuff quickly and shoving it haphazardly into his backpack. “Don’t buy me anything. I’ll send you the essay tonight.”

With that, he slings his bag over his shoulder and leaves.

-

Jimin is avoiding Yoongi.

Even though their paths don’t cross much, Yoongi knows it’s the case when he doesn’t see Jimin at Suga’s next concert. In fact, Seokjin is the only one to show up, and Yoongi’s probably not imagining the disappointed glares the elder keeps shooting him.

Yoongi doesn’t try to contact Jimin, because he doesn’t know the right thing to say yet. ‘Sorry I offered to practically pay you to be my friend’ doesn’t have the right ring to it, and Yoongi knows that Jimin’s the kind of person that wouldn’t accept such a half-assed apology anyway.

When he finally does see Jimin again, it’s completely on accident.

Yoongi’s sitting in a local diner he hasn’t tried yet, peering down at the small menu and trying to decide if he wants mild or spicy kimchi stew when he hears a familiar voice say, “Welcome to Park Park, can I offer you the daily special? Wait—oh, fuck.”

He raises his head quickly to see Jimin, holding a pencil and a pad of paper and wearing an apron of all things.

“You work here?” Yoongi blurts out, setting the menu down on the table. Jimin’s floundering for words, his mouth opening and closing several times, and Yoongi can’t help but find it fucking adorable.

“I… my uncle owns the place,” Jimin says slowly, “I work here during the school year.”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything about Jimin’s embarrassed flush or the fact that one of his shoes is untied because he can tell that Jimin clearly feels uncomfortable, so he clears his throat and directs his gaze back to the menu.

“Um, I’ll take one spicy kimchi stew, please,” Yoongi mumbles, and then glances around at the mostly-empty restaurant before adding, “and—one bowl of jajangmyeon?” Jimin nods before heading back to the kitchens, and Yoongi lays his head on the table.

Of course, Park Jimin could never just stay out of his life.

Jimin returns rather quickly, and Yoongi watches how the younger manages to balance two large bowls and numerous side dishes on a single arm as he lays the food down on the table. He’s about to turn and leave before Yoongi reaches out and snags a string on Jimin’s apron.

“Hey, that jajangmyeon is for you.”

Jimin turns, confused, and Yoongi coughs awkwardly before trying again. “I bought that second bowl for you. Not because you helped me with the essay, I promise. Just because I wanted to.”

“But-” Jimin starts, and Yoongi decides he’s had enough of Jimin’s annoying avoidance so he stands up, places his palms on Jimin’s shoulders, and forces him down into the booth across from Yoongi.

“Sit and eat,” Yoongi tells him, sitting back down and unwrapping his chopsticks.

“You know,” Jimin finally says, lifting the apron over his head and setting it down on the seat beside him, “jajangmyeon isn’t my favorite food or anything. I was just craving it that one time.”

Yoongi purses his lips. “Do you want my stew instead?”

“It’s okay,” Jimin laughs, taking out a fork to mix the noodles with. “I still like jajangmyeon a lot.”

It’s quiet after that as both boys focus on their food, and Yoongi’s relieved because it doesn’t seem like Jimin’s still mad at him. It looks like his ‘apology noodles’ worked, then.

“If you work at a restaurant,” Yoongi asks, looking up at Jimin who’s stopped mid-bite, a noodle dangling from his lips, “then why don’t you eat noodles more?”

Jimin hastily slurps up the hanging noodle and wipes at his chin. “Well, this is my uncle’s restaurant, you know? Good ingredients aren’t cheap, and I feel a little bad for just eating all of his food. He’s already nice enough to pay me for working here, even though he doesn’t have to since I’m family. I figure the least I can do to be polite is buy all of my meals from him, but I need to think about saving money too.”

Yoongi sits back and takes all of it in for a minute. He takes in the way Jimin relishes every bite of the noodles he’s probably had a thousand times already, takes in how he leaves all the side dishes to the side and eats more vegetables than usual to try to fit in with the stupid diet of the dance department, takes in the way Jimin’s eyes seem a little stressed lately and the way his hands shake a little as he holds his chopsticks, and some strange sort of fierce, protective warmth sweeps over Yoongi in waves.

Yoongi wants to offer some sort of help, but he knows that Jimin’s pride won’t allow him to accept handouts, and Yoongi’s never had something besides money to offer before and he just doesn’t know what to do.

“What time do you get off work?” Yoongi asks, figuring that at the very least, he can offer his company. “Do you wanna hang out?”

The smile Jimin gives him brings the warmth back into Yoongi’s cold stew.

-

On Saturday, Jimin wakes up in the middle of the night, suddenly struck by a revelation.

He flings himself out of bed (but not before tripping on his duvet) before blindly feeling his way to Taehyung’s room, opening the door cautiously.

“Taetae,” he tries quietly, wondering if Taehyung’s still awake. A loud snore greets him, and Jimin lets out an aggravated sigh. He heads into the dark bedroom and squeals a little when he steps in something wet and cold on the ground.

The sound’s enough to rouse Taehyung, who lazily reaches out and turns the lamp on. Jimin looks down, and it’s a testament to how long they’ve been best friends that he isn’t even phased to see his foot in a bowl of jello.

“What are you doing, Jiminie?” Taehyung mumbles, and Jimin shakes off his foot before clambering onto Taehyung’s bed. The taller boy merely grunts when Jimin knees his side and then moves over to make room, and Jimin tucks himself in underneath the covers, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I think I like Yoongi hyung,” he whispers, suddenly terrified that Taehyung will mock him.

“You’re such an idiot,” Taehyung mumbles, reaching out to turn the lights off again. He sniffles a little before burying his nose in Jimin’s hair, and Jimin quickly wonders if maybe he’s catching a cold. Taehyung’s always been the one solid presence in his life ever since he moved to Seoul for high school, and Jimin’s always appreciated his never-wavering loyalty.

“I knew that a long time ago,” Taehyung laughs lowly, settling back down into the numerous pillows he always keeps on his bed.

Jimin groans internally and debates asking Taehyung how exactly he knew that before Jimin himself did, but he never gets the chance because Taehyung’s already sleeping again.

-

When Hoseok suggests celebrating after their latest concert draws their biggest crowd yet, Yoongi expects something along the lines of video games and pizza.

Celebration, to Hoseok, apparently means going to a club afterhours and getting shitfaced.

Yoongi can’t complain too much, really. It is ice taking a break from the never-ending cycle of concerts and exams and family stress, and he’s glad to take a chance to just enjoy his final months at college. He can’t really enjoy too much, however, with Jimin dancing just a few meters away from him.

Somehow, the baby-faced sophomore had managed to wiggle his way through the lines outside and convince the bouncer at the door that he was old enough to enter. Yoongi’s not really sure how that had panned out, but he wishes the bouncer had actually checked Jimin’s ID, because then he would have just sent Jimin home and Yoongi wouldn’t have to deal with this.

This is Jimin dancing all-too-provocatively, sweat dripping down the side of his face, his head tilted back, his eyes half-lidded. Jimin’s clearly drunk, and Yoongi’s clearly not ready for this.

Hoseok, for some reason, had invited the entire dance team out, and while Yoongi normally isn’t to conscious about his dancing (especially when surrounded by drunk people), he’s a bit more reserved when the dance floor is flooded by a bunch of young, hot, talented dancers. And of course Jimin is one of them.

Yoongi’s not jealous when Hoseok starts dancing with Jimin, he’s not jealous, but he still doesn’t like seeing the way the junior’s arm curls around Jimin’s waist, the way Jimin smiles brightly at Hoseok when it should be directed at Yoongi instead. It doesn’t mean anything, Yoongi tells himself, it’s just because they’re good friends and they both like dancing and—

Yoongi catches a glimpse of tan skin when Jimin’s shirt rides up, and his mouth goes unpleasantly dry, and suddenly he can’t stand the thought of Jimin dancing with anyone other than him so he stands up, downs his final shot of vodka, and then heads out onto the dance floor.

He reaches out and tugs Jimin away from Hoseok (and man, the junior must be really wasted because he doesn’t even notice) and pulls the younger boy against his own body, his hands going to Jimin’s hips as he tries to sway. He’s not really good at the whole club dancing thing, but Yoongi doesn’t bother feeling embarrassed because he’s finally got Jimin in his arms and his heart is beating way too fast for him to get conscious over his clumsy feet.

“Hyung!” Jimin exclaims gleefully, and Yoongi can smell the scent of sweat and cheap alcohol, but somehow he doesn’t care.

Yoongi doesn’t bother saying anything, only holding Jimin closer to protect him from the incessant bumping of bodies around them. Jimin laughs breathlessly, looping his arms around Yoongi’s neck as he continues to dance, and Yoongi clumsily tries to follow along with the other’s smooth movements.

“Hyung,” Jimin says, leaning close so that Yoongi’s able to hear it over the din of the crowd. Yoongi nods expectantly, waiting for Jimin to finish his sentence, but he doesn’t and the next thing he knows, Jimin’s mouth is over his, and Yoongi doesn’t know if this is what Jimin intended or not, but Jimin’s body is warm and solid and insistent against his so Yoongi gives in and kisses him back.

Jimin leans back, his eyes dark, and drags Yoongi over to the exit. “Come on hyung, let’s get out of here.”

Yoongi can’t help but feel like he’s doing something wrong, but at this point he’d follow Jimin to the ends of the earth.

-

Jimin wakes up because he’s freezing.

Well, that’s not entirely true. He’s certainly colder than usual, and he dimly wonders if it’s because their landlord decided to blast the air conditioning for some reason. There’s a pleasant warmth pressed against his back, though, and Jimin figures that Taehyung must have snuck into his bed sometime late last night.

He’s glad to be lying on the familiar form of his bed, and he blindly sweeps an arm out until he can grab his glasses off the nightstand. He turns around to try to locate his blankets—maybe Taehyung stole them again in the middle of the night—and he’s greeted with Yoongi, sleeping contentedly on top of Jimin’s balled up sheets. And then Jimin realizes that they’re both decidedly unclothed.

It takes Jimin a minute to put the pieces together, a minute to connect the blinding headache behind his eyes to the pleasant ache of his muscles, a minute to take in Yoongi’s pale skin and messy hair and swollen mouth.

“Oh my god,” he whispers to himself, turning back around and burying his face into his pillow, which smells like sweat and sex.  He prays to whatever god that may be listening in the hopes that Yoongi would stay asleep. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.”

Apparently, he’d gone home with Yoongi—or rather, taken Yoongi home. And apparently they’d slept together. And apparently, Yoongi is a blanket thief.

“What the actual fuck.”

It’s Taehyung’s loud voice that startles Jimin out of his panic. He’s standing in the entrance to Jimin’s bedroom, a doe-eyed and red-cheeked Jungkook peering over his shoulder. The interruption is enough to wake Yoongi, who wipes his face before looking around sleepily. Jimin thinks the half-lidded state of his eyes is adorable, and then he wants to slap himself because now is not the time to be entertaining such thoughts when he just slept with Min Yoongi.

“Where am I?” Yoongi mumbles, lifting himself onto his elbows to look around before his eyes go comically wide, taking in his undressed state.

“Oh shit,” Yoongi mumbles, sliding off of the bed. He reaches down to grab a pair of boxers and put them on, and Jimin wants to speak up, because those are actually his boxers, but he’s frozen in his place.

Yoongi jams his legs (Jimin briefly thinks back to a vague memory from last night about those same legs, tense and incessant against his) into his jeans before pushing his way past Taehyung, who’s still frozen in the doorway to Jimin’s bedroom.

Jimin’s voice doesn’t seem to be working anymore, so he numbly wraps a sheet around his waist and follows after Yoongi, stumbling on shaky legs. Yoongi grabs his jacket from the where’s its laying on the couch and slings it over his bare torso, and Jimin just barely catches sight of a purple mark against Yoongi’s collarbone before Yoongi’s suddenly opening the front door and stepping out, and that’s when Jimin realizes it.

He’s losing Yoongi.

“Hyung,” he finally manages to cry out, and he’s glad when Yoongi stops in his tracks, turning back around slowly to look Jimin in the eye. Jimin wraps the blanket a little more snugly around himself, gripping it tightly to try to conceal the fact that his hands are shaking.

“Hyung, please,” Jimin begs, and he’s not sure what exactly he’s begging for, not sure what he’s feeling other than guilt and shame and sadness. He doesn’t want things to end like this, doesn’t want their entire relationship to end because of a single night.

Yoongi sucks in a deep breath, shakes his head, and leaves.

Jimin watches as the front door swings shut, and then sinks to his knees in the middle of the living room. He can dimly hear Taehyung approach him, but he doesn’t react because all he can think about is how his eyes are suddenly wet and Yoongi isn’t even here to make it better anymore.

-

Yoongi goes home, pukes in the toilet, and then falls asleep on the bathroom floor.

When he wakes up again, he’s even more confused than he was before. He’s not even sure how he had exactly gotten home, but he’s assuming he must have run because his legs are tired and he’s kind of sweaty. The chill of tiles against his torso reminds him that he’s not wearing a shirt, but he doesn’t have the motivation to get up and put one on. Unfortunately the world isn’t on his side anymore, and the loud ringing of his doorbell forces him onto his feet.

“I’m coming,” Yoongi calls out hoarsely, rubbing at his throat as it burns with tiredness and dehydration.

He opens the door and it’s greeted with a kick to the stomach.

“What the hell is going on?” he coughs, stumbling back a few feet. He looks up and sees Jimin’s tall freshman friend—Jungkook?—standing in his doorway, his small face contorted in anger.

“You piece of shit,” Jungkook bites out, striding into Yoongi’s apartment and slamming the door behind him. Yoongi wonders vaguely how Jungkook had known where he lives—had he followed him home?—and then pushes the thought to the side because he really has no idea what’s going on here.

“Yah, who do you think you’re calling a-”

“I’m calling you a piece of shit!” Jungkook exclaims loudly, pointing a finger in Yoongi’s face. “A dumb piece of shit too, because you are a complete idiot. I don’t know why Jimin wastes his time on you.”

Yoongi gulps. Jimin.

So Jimin is the reason why Jungkook looks so upset, standing in the middle of Yoongi’s apartment and breathing heavily. Yoongi doesn’t want to think about Jimin anymore, though, doesn’t want to think about how he had woken up and seen Jimin and remembered all the events of last night. He doesn’t want to think about how Jimin was drunk out of his mind, how he probably regrets sleeping with Yoongi, how Yoongi had gone into it with hopes and expectations only to break them himself by running away.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” Yoongi says slowly, shaking his head. Jungkook still looks furious, but at least he’s letting Yoongi talk now and that’s something.

“Last night was a mistake,” Yoongi explains, ignoring the angry look he receives. “And would you let me finish? Jimin wasn’t a mistake. Jimin will never be a mistake. But… we shouldn’t have gone about it like that.”

Jungkook’s eyes have a glint of understanding to them, so Yoongi continues.

“Jimin probably hates me right now. Fuck, even I hate me right now. But I’ll make things better, eventually.”

Jungkook does up the buttons of his pea coat, smoothing out the collar as he tries to find something to say. He looks far less angry now, and for that Yoongi is glad, but the younger boy’s silence is still disconcerting.

Jungkook opens the door again, his job presumably done, but before he leaves he turns and faces Yoongi one last time.

“I don’t think you can make things better.”

-

Jimin spends the next week of his life trying to not even think about Yoongi.

It doesn’t work though, because he sees Yoongi everywhere he does. Not literally, but the way Taehyung’s black coffee smells reminds him of Yoongi’s favorite drink, and the sound of rain beating against his window reminds him of Yoongi’s pleasant voice, and everything is just Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi.

One day he serves jajangmyeon to a young couple at the restaurant, and then has to lock himself in the freezer and try not to cry.

Seokjin hyung stops in his apartment every other day to drop off some food, because apparently he thinks that Jimin’s incapable of taking care of himself. The gesture, no matter how sweet, makes Jimin mad, because it’s not like Jimin’s a depressed ex-lover trying to get over a breakup or something. Yoongi and Jimin were nothing to begin with, and Jimin doesn’t even have the right to be upset that they’re still nothing now.

Except he is, he is upset and he’ll always be upset that he let Yoongi leave and he didn’t even try harder to stop him.

One night, he thinks he sees the familiar shape of Yoongi’s back standing around the entrance to Jimin’s apartment block. Jimin watches as Yoongi sits on the ground, his back against the building, and waits. Jimin shouldn’t leave him there, he knows it’s not the right thing to do, but the thought of seeing Yoongi again makes him feel simultaneously elated and sick, and so he does the only thing he can think of and goes to stay at Seokjin’s place for the night.

He can’t live like this, Jimin thinks as he lays on Seokjin’s couch, trying to force the image of Yoongi waiting for Jimin out of his head. But he has no other choice, and so he tries to make himself feel better by thinking that in a few months, Yoongi will have graduated anyway, and Jimin will never have to see him again.

The thought of it crushes him, but maybe it’s for the best.

-

“Hello?”

“Taehyung? Where’s Jimin? Can you give the phone to him?”

“Yoongi hyung? Fuck off.”

“Taehyung, please.”

“Just leave him alone.”

“Taehyung, I just want to talk to him…hello? Hello?”

-

Jimin wakes up to an empty apartment.

It’s a bit of an unusual occurrence, but he’s actually glad for it though, because ever since that night Taehyung had refused to leave him alone, sometimes even bringing in Jungkook and Seokjin (and once even Hoseok) to help keep Jimin company. And Jimin’s grateful that his friends care so much about him, he really is, but they’re more suffocating than anything.

He pours himself just a glass of milk for breakfast since they’ve run out of cereal, and debates going to the grocery store later to pick some up. Jimin’s just about to work on his Music Theory homework when someone knocks at the door.

Jimin sighs, knowing that his empty apartment had been too good to be true, and goes to open the door. It’s probably Jungkook, since Seokjin has a spare key.

It’s Yoongi.

Jimin’s mouth drops open in surprise, and he hurriedly swings the door shut, but Yoongi manages to jam a foot in the door frame and shove his way indoors. Jimin panics.

“Hyung, no, I don’t think-”

“Jimin,” Yoongi interrupts him, looking determined. Jimin’s so taken aback at the familiar sound of his voice, at finally seeing his sleepy eyes and his always-messy hair and his scuffed boots, that he steps back and just lets Yoongi talk.

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi says, and that’s when Jimin notices Yoongi’s holding a large, clear-wrapped bowl of jajangmyeon in his arms. Jimin thinks that he may cry, so he covers his face.

“I’m sorry I just left that one morning,” Yoongi continues, and Jimin hears the soft thunk of the bowl being placed on the ground. He hears Yoongi stepping closer, and then jolts when Yoongi’s arms suddenly reach around his waist.

“I’m sorry I made you cry.”

And that actually make Jimin cry, so he presses his face against Yoongi’s collarbone and tries to hide. The words apparently open some sort of floodgate, and Yoongi just keeps talking.

“I’m sorry I never told you what a good friend you are, or how good you are at dancing, or how cute you look when you smile. I’m sorry I don’t respond to your texts half the time. I’m sorry that I called you arm candy that one time, because you’re so much more than that to me. I’m sorry I assumed all you eat is jajangmyeon, and I’m sorry I never asked what your actual favorite food is so I could have brought that today instead.”

Jimin doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know what to say in return so he keeps quiet, leaning against the solid frame of Yoongi’s shoulder. Yoongi is warm and familiar and resilient and Jimin tries to commit the feeling of Yoongi’s arms around him to memory.

“I’m sorry I never told you that I like you, Jimin, and I’m sorry I’m the world’s biggest fucking idiot, and I’m sorry that I thought it would be a good idea to bring jajangmyeon over to your apartment even though it probably just reminds you about how fucking  dumb I am.”

Jimin bites his lip hard, not believing his own ears, and then is shaking his head frantically because Yoongi’s not an idiot, Yoongi’s perfect and it’s Jimin who should be apologizing for being so dumb and naïve and hopeful—

“Shut up,” Yoongi says roughly, and Jimin belatedly realizes that he had been babbling his frenzied thoughts out loud.

“I-” Jimin starts, still hiding his face in Yoongi’s black sweatshirt. “I like you too.”

“I know that already, actually. And I know that I can’t really make up for being such a dick, but would you give me one more chance?” Yoongi says, leaning back and tugging Jimin’s hands away from his face.

Jimin stares tentatively at Yoongi, and wonders if he’s maybe dreaming, because there’s no way that Min Yoongi is standing in the hallway of Jimin’s apartment, but the bowl of cold jajangmyeon sitting on the ground is proof. Yoongi looks uncertain, shifting on his feet and gnawing on his bottom lip, and Jimin’s suddenly reminded of the time after that one concert when Yoongi had similarly cornered him. Yoongi looks just as cute now as he did then, and Jimin curses the fact that he’s still thinking about how attractive Yoongi is even at a time like this.

“A chance?” Jimin whispers back, furrowing his brows.

Yoongi nods, and then tugs Jimin forward until he can press his lips to Jimin’s carefully. “I’m not going to be perfect at this. I might not even be good at this, but for you, I can try. Does that sound okay?”

For the first time in a long time, Jimin thinks about himself and Yoongi and smiles. “Okay.”