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“It’s just a fundraiser,” Namjoon whispers harshly, bending forward so he can execute the line in the appropriate area, “there’s nothing to worry about, hyung.”
Yoongi, on the other hand, was in the process of either strangling the taller because how dare he make Yoongi’s short height so goddamn apparent (even if not on purpose but standing next to a bean stalk for a person really makes his short legs stand out) and how dare he force Yoongi into standing in line for a fucking kissing booth. Granted, he knew that it was for Hoseok’s dance team and they were just in need of some money for the upcoming Spring showcase, but he didn’t think it was a valid reason. To be standing here. In line. For a kissing booth.
“Don’t talk to me, you imbecile,” Yoongi replies back, glancing upwards to stare at Namjoon’s baby pink ball cap so he could avoid the younger’s eyes, “I can’t even believe I’m doing this right now.”
“You’ve been saying that for the past twenty minutes we’ve been in line,” the other asserts, staring at the coins inside his palm before recounting them like he’s somehow dropped a coin in the many times he’s been repeating the act, “Like, hyung. If you didn’t actually want to be in this line, you could’ve gotten out a while ago.”
“Well at least I’m not making it painstakingly obvious I’m standing in this line because I’m digging one of the dudes hosting it,” Yoongi mumbles, shooting a look at Namjoon who flushes a deep shade of pink, “you’re such a teenager.”
“But you do dig one of the dudes hosting it.”
“But I’m not making it painstakingly obvious. I was forced into this line.”
Namjoon smirks as he glances at Yoongi, mischief in his eyes as he says, “Sorry hyung. But you’re guilty by association.”
Yoongi hates college for these reasons: one being that he had accustomed himself with someone like Namjoon, who would suggest living life out of a cheesy romcom to be fitting; and two, not being able to get out of line because his pining for Park Jimin is so damn apparent. Because believe it or not, his feet was still planted on the cement beneath his shoes, standing in line for something that would only make him regret his decisions later on. It only takes a frown to pull against his lips for Namjoon to break into loud laughter, shutting Yoongi up before he could even think about responding.
“Don’t look so troubled,” the younger bargains, stepping forward as the line starts to move, “you’re doing a good deed by helping Hoseok out with his fundraiser. There’s a silver lining in every situation, hyung. Gotta take it for what it is.”
Yoongi scoffs, adjusting his turtle neck because it feels like his throat is being suffocated in the breadths of cotton, “That’s not how you use that idiom, Joon ah. My silver lining doesn’t exist in a situation like this, especially if you’re the one who’s compelling it.”
The line moves again and Yoongi can spot Hoseok’s thousand watt smile from the booth, all pearly white teeth shining brightly as he decides to wave at him and Namjoon. A few eyes glance towards their direction and Yoongi darts his gaze to the side in an effort to mask out the obvious heat that starts to flare up against his cheeks. Namjoon though, extends his overly long arm above the heads of the crowd, propelling it back and forth as a greeting. This in turn causes all eyes working at the booth to look over, Jimin looks over and Yoongi catches the smirk against the younger’s lips just in time. To make matters worse, the new hairstyle of pastel pink that Jimin was sporting looked so fucking good and only ignites a slow thrashing inside Yoongi’s chest.
He groans, “Goddamn it Namjoon.”
“What? They were going to find out eventually.”
“Eventually could’ve been a lot later if it weren’t for—”
“I can’t believe you’re in line,” they both hear and Yoongi closes his mouth in response before he turns and sees Jeongguk standing next to them, a teasing smile against his lips.
“Blame that pole over there,” Yoongi says as he tries to grab a chip from Jeongguk’s fingers, fighting with him when Jeongguk just pulls his hands back, “gimme one, brat.”
Jeongguk makes a noise with his tongue, trapping air between his teeth as he tilts his head to the side, “But hyung,” and Yoongi is already hating the fact that the younger had picked up Yoongi’s own habit of hissing while he talks, “this is garlic and parsley chips.”
“I know and they’re delicious.”
Jeongguk grows smug, pushing his hand forward so Yoongi could put his hands inside the bag, “Alright,” he says matter of factly, “if you wanna kiss Jimin while your breath smells like that—be my guest.”
Yoongi halts his movements, looking up at Jeongguk with irritation flooding into his eyes. He can sense Namjoon trying to hold in his laughter and almost kicks himself in the shin when he realizes they’ve made him second guess himself. He doesn’t respond, but he does end up pushing his hand further into the bag before his fingers brush against the chips, staring Jeongguk dead on as he—
“Here,” before he takes a handful of the snacks into his palms, “to get you to shut up,” and he closes his entire fist around the pieces with a force that makes them crumble all the way back down into the bag when he turns his hand over, smirking when Jeongguk pouts.
“Now go back to Taehyung, before he realizes how incompetent his boyfriend is,” Yoongi says, pulling his hand away.
Jeongguk feigns innocence, mumbling my chips before walking back to the booth where Taehyung was counting the collected gains from the fundraiser and leaving Yoongi with the residue of garlic and parsley against his fingers. He decides to wipes it on Namjoon’s arm, pulling a wide smile on his lips when the younger complains soon after. But his brief victory lands short when the line starts to move faster, not giving him enough time to even process the damn situation and before he knows it, Hoseok’s blaring laughter rings loudly.
“What just happened?” he hears Namjoon ask when they were in front of the line.
“A lot of people were here to just give donations,” Hoseok answers while tapping his fingers against the table, “but I know you two are here for promised kisses.”
Yoongi stiffens up and glances towards Jimin’s direction, “He is. I’m here to just give you donations.”
Hoseok shakes his head with mirth dancing on his mouth, “Not so fast hyung,” and he pushes Yoongi’s shoulder to the right where Jimin stands awkwardly, almost like he was waiting for Yoongi to approach. Or, like he was expecting him to.
Yoongi’s about to walk away from this whole predicament but Namjoon presses a hand on his shoulder, “Just go,” the taller says, “it looks like he’s waiting for you.”
The mental wirings inside Yoongi’s brain begins to fry, especially now that he was taking those reluctant steps towards Jimin but an undeniable force begs him to continue. He really is just going to drop the donation into the jar for Taehyung to add into inventory, skipping out entirely of kissing Jimin. He’s set on that, he’s not going—
“Hey,” Jimin’s soft voice enters his hearing, a small smile on his lips when Yoongi takes the last step in front of him, “nice to see you, hyung.”
Yoongi breathes out a, “You too,” ignoring the way his heart hammers inside his chest and fists change from his jean pockets to his sweating palms, “a dollar right?”
“Right,” Taehyung answers instead, holding up the jar underneath Yoongi’s hand as Yoongi drops the money inside it, “thank you.”
“Uh,” Yoongi says, side eyeing Jeongguk behind Taehyung when the youngest starts cackling, “I was just going to leave the donation and be on my way. I have some things to get to,” he explains, moving his eyes off Jeongguk to Jimin, who looked so soft and pretty just standing there with that delicate smile against his lips.
Jimin doesn’t say anything but Yoongi thinks there’s a look of disappointment aligning his features. He wants to reach out and say it doesn’t look right on him, tell him to pull a different facial expression that suited his beautiful face more than this one. But he stops himself, wanting no more embarrassment in light of already being teased by his friends and convinces himself that maybe Jimin’s face fell for a different reason. A reason that didn’t stem from Yoongi because after all, crushes can make you imagine things that weren’t actually there and he fucking hates it.
“Thank you for at least stopping by,” Jimin finally says, voice gentle, “your donation is much appreciated. But please also stop by for the showcase.”
Yoongi nods his head, allowing himself to bask in the very reason why he had liked Jimin the first place. There was something so evidently soft about the younger that had Yoongi glued in his spot, his toes digging into the soles of his sneakers while his mind was protesting against his actions, or lack thereof. He knocks himself out of the delirium eventually, flushing when he realizes a big smile was on Jimin’s lips now that reality had dawned on him. This only caused Yoongi to just want to get the fuck out of here and call it a day, so he mutters a rushed apology before turning around. He’s mentally cursing at himself, closing his eyes in shame because he was able to embarrass himself without Namjoon even being present.
But a hand flies out and grabs his wrist, causing him to open his eyes right when he hears an affectionate, “Wait. Yoongi hyung,” before he’s spun back around with Jimin’s face coming into view with a deep flush of dusted pink against the younger’s cheeks, “you forgot something.”
Yoongi doesn’t have time to process what happens next because Jimin’s face is inching closer to his, so close that he could taste the sweet whiff of lollipops and mint. His heart pounds, his eyes close on instinct, limbs already falling prisoner inside Jimin’s grasp and it’s hilarious how easy it is for Jimin to wrap Yoongi around his pinky. Time starts to slow down just a fraction because Yoongi thinks this all has to be some fucked up illusion.
But it wipes away and reality comes to life when their lips meet, the plush of Jimin’s lips connect so perfectly over his own that he wishes this won’t cease. If Jimin’s appearance had given way to what his lips felt like, it was much greater. It suffocated him, turned him into a mush of begging limbs and sparked on a longing for more because this didn’t feed his appetite; not when Jimin’s shocked moan fell into Yoongi’s mouth in a way that sounded so content.
Like they were both waiting for this to happen and it was downright blissful.
Jimin pulls back first, a soft noise resonating as he does, “Wow,” he breathes when Yoongi opens his eyes, the blush on his cheeks that much richer and Yoongi’s dreaming, he has to be.
So, he goes in for one more just to let it settle into his bones.
And this time Jimin opens his mouth and Yoongi settles his hand against the side of Jimin’s cheek, feeling a rush of warmth underneath his palms. Jimin’s tongue felt like the most expensive silk, tasted like the sweetest fruit, and Yoongi devours it entirely until they were both gasping for air. He pulls them apart, resting his forehead against Jimin’s as he searches the younger’s eyes like he’s asking for permission.
Jimin closes the space between their mouths again, leaving a chaste kiss as an acceptance. And Yoongi is fucking soaring.
He hears a whistle from Hoseok and a loud applause from Jeongguk, Taehyung on the other hand, “Alright, I’ve seen enough. It’s like you two are going to suck each other’s faces off into oblivion if I don’t stop you.”
“Don’t ruin their fun,” Hoseok chastises, “hyung finally did it.”
Taehyung shakes his head, “I admit that it was cute. But goddamn that moan that Jimin slipped out had me thinking I walked into something I wasn’t supposed to see.”
Yoongi lets go of Jimin’s face as the younger side eyes Taehyung, “Like you’re the most innocent little dime piece, Tae,” Jimin retorts back, “how many times have I walk into you and Jeongguk fucking because you both are horn dogs with no intentions of hiding it either. You’re no angel.”
“Watch that pretty little mouth of yours,” Taehyung quips, “also Yoongi hyung. That was three kisses, you owe me two dollars.”
Yoongi is about to pull out his wallet to see if he had spare bills and he’s about to throw a complaint, but it’s Jimin who answers,
“No,” and he puts a hand over Yoongi’s, “those were priceless.”
Yoongi thanks Jeongguk later on, sending him a: sorry for your chips.
❖
Here’s another reason why Yoongi hated college: for it’s crowds at events and the idea being jam packed into a room like a can of sardines. He also didn’t appreciate the fact that nobody had told him that this showcase was somehow formal attire and he had showed up in distressed jeans, an oversized cardigan, and a white deep cut v neck. He was holding onto a bouquet of sunflowers and baby’s breath when he saw Namjoon walking in with Seokjin, both wearing slacks and dress shirts.
“What’re you wearing?” Seokjin asks, bewildered at the state of Yoongi’s clothes.
“No one told me,” Yoongi says monotonously, already trialed enough for him to give up trying, “thank you for telling me, Joon ah.”
“I thought you knew that all showcases is formal attire.”
Yoongi obviously didn’t but it’s partly his fault because he never really attended them in the first place, or any event for that matter. He ignores trying to argue with his friends and walks behind them quietly to the entrance, where a line was already formed outside and he exhales through his nose when he realizes he probably won’t get a good seat for him to see the performance. But he knew that Jimin would appreciate his presence more than anything, so the complaints don’t fall from his tongue.
It took a good ten minutes for them to get inside (and Yoongi was sick of everyone glancing at him because of his damn clothes) but once they were all situated, Yoongi found that the seats were surprisingly comfortable and the view of the stage from where they were sitting wasn’t too bad, considering the large amount of people that had showed up.
“How many minutes before it starts?” he asks Namjoon, already restless for the show to begin to see his friends perform.
“I think in a couple minutes,” the other replies, looking at his watch and showing Yoongi, “it starts at seven.”
And just like an answer to their questions, the lights in the theatre start to dim and Hoseok walks onstage to where the crowd greets him in a roar, to which he bows deeply with a large smile against his face in appreciation.
“Thank you, thank you,” he laughs, microphone against his lips as he speaks, “this is our second year having a Spring showcase and I’m so thankful that people actually like what we do. Our performance highlights what we’ve been working on for the past three months, giving you a show that displays the different styles of dance we have here at Uni,” he explains, heart shaped lips never ceasing to smile and Yoongi thinks it almost brighter than the stage lights, “we have some contemporary pieces performed by a second year named Park Jimin,” the crowd cheers and a few girls scream the younger’s name over the applause. Yoongi tries to hide his smile, “and some,” Hoseok pops his arms, demonstrating a small dance, “hip hop,” he laughs when the crowd goes wild again, “and last but not least, a group number pertaining to all the above. There are pamphlets underneath your seats if you need ‘em, but for the time being—please enjoy the show.”
The lights dim completely as Hoseok walks off the stage and Yoongi’s heart suddenly pounds. It could be the adrenaline of pride for his friends that rushes through his body but it could also be the fact that he was suddenly so nervous for them too. After all, he did care about them, regardless of what people thought.
But the worries efface from his thoughts like they weren’t even there in the first place when the show begins and he’s enamored to the edge of his seat. It starts with Jimin, beautiful, beautiful Jimin—who’s dressed in a long white dress shirt with black pants stretched taut over thick thighs. It makes Yoongi wonder how he’s even convinced such a perfect person to be his, let alone have him stay with him even after the kissing booth situation.
Jimin dances like it’s built into his blood, delicate movements snapping into it’s respective places in tune of the piano piece in the background. The voice singing on the track is none other than Jeongguk’s, making a soothing combination of Jimin’s choreography and Jeongguk’s voice melt together into something much greater than Yoongi had even pictured.
The applause is loud and deafening; and Yoongi can see Jimin’s chest heaving with excitement as the number ends, a small smile decorates against his lips as he walks off the stage. And the performance goes on, with Yoongi’s heart pounding into his ears with the faint image of Jimin’s body fluidly moving to every performance burned into his mind.
“Your flowers are wilted,” Seokjin states, laughing when Yoongi stares down at the petals and sees them tilting down towards the floor. “Think you might’ve held onto them a little too tightly during the performance.”
In an effort to stay civil, Yoongi ignores the older and his antics, pushing himself off the seat when the room brightens up completely and people start to get up from out of their seats. The dancers were already coming out from backstage, ready to greet the crowd for a successful ending to the showcase and Yoongi suddenly panics because he can spot Jimin in the midst of it all, searching for him in the slew of faces.
“Calm down,” Namjoon chuckles, “we’ll get there, don’t worry. He knows we came, hyung. We told him we wouldn’t miss it.”
Yoongi breathes, feeling childish in the way he had reacted but Namjoon consoles him, “You like him a lot,” the younger smiles, “it’s only natural to wanna show them you care, especially when it comes to someone special like him.”
“Thanks,” Yoongi gives, clutching onto the bouquet of flowers harder than he had during the show.
When they finally make it to Jimin, the others are right behind him. Yoongi can see sweat dancing along the faces of Hoseok, Jimin and Jeongguk, all who wore proud (smug, if you’re Jeongguk) expressions on their faces. Taehyung is hugging Jimin, who’s giggling away to whatever it was that the other was saying and Yoongi couldn’t deny the force that pulls him in whenever he hears that comforting sound.
Yoongi pushes himself forward and Taehyung gets the memo, leaving Jimin’s side in order to praise Jeongguk, smiling on his way before allowing Yoongi to take his spot.
“You made it,” Jimin smiles brightly, eyes perched like half moons over his flushed cheeks, “I’m glad, hyung!”
Yoongi extends an arm, the one holding the flowers and mumbles, “Sorry. They’re a little wilted,” and Jimin laughs, grabbing the bouquet into his fingers before taking a step closer, “and sorry for not dressing up. I didn’t realize this was an event that required formal attire.”
Jimin shakes his head, the smile on his lips billowing a complete warmth over Yoongi, “Don’t worry about it, hyung,” he breathes, wrapping his arms over Yoongi’s neck before inching his mouth closer to Yoongi’s, “I think you look hot as fuck.”
The words get fanned over Yoongi’s lips and then swallowed when Jimin presses their mouths together, kissing Yoongi with a passion that only gets better every single time they kiss. Yoongi’s heart still pounds with the same rhythm they did the first time at the kissing booth. But he could feel the way Jimin’s heart does too, coinciding with Yoongi’s drum while Jimin’s dances along.
Celebrations end with Taehyung getting a little too drunk over barbecue and Jeongguk is forced to take him home. Hoseok says he’s meeting up with Jiwoo for some family bonding and Namjoon takes Seokjin’s hand into his before leaving the restaurant after paying the tab. It leaves Yoongi and Jimin outside the restaurant alone, the younger still clutching onto the flowers in his hands before he takes Yoongi’s into his own.
“You did really well tonight, all of you did,” Yoongi says, intwining their fingers together, “I’m proud of you.”
Jimin hums, guiding them through the sidewalks towards the subway, “I want another gift,” he says matter of factly, moving himself so he was standing in front of Yoongi, “for the purpose of just getting you to myself.”
“Hm? What is it?” Yoongi asks, staring at Jimin’s lips as he talks, admiring the pink flush of skin and when Jimin doesn’t reply, he looks up.
Jimin smirks, “Well,” he blushes, giggling as he explains, “I have the apartment to myself now that Taehyung is at Jeongguk’s,” and Yoongi reels in his spot, “so come over.”
Yoongi is reluctant at first but Jimin is swinging their arms before he says, “Please.”
And once again Yoongi falls prisoner. Because whatever Jimin wants, Yoongi will always, always, deliver.
They don’t stop kissing once they reach the apartment but it’s not like Yoongi wants to let go when Jimin is moaning and clutching onto Yoongi’s clothes in earnest, being greedy with Yoongi’s lips because as Jimin had put it, it’s about fucking time, hyung. Yoongi’s panting with curse words falling softly from his lips, barely having enough time to get his shoes off when Jimin is pulling him towards the bedroom, setting the bouquet of flowers down against the kitchen counter along the way.
“Sweetheart, wait,” Yoongi exhales harshly, resting his mouth over Jimin’s so he has time to breathe but never really leaving too much space between them in case he wants to dive back in again, “what’re you in a rush for?”
“I get to kiss you all I want now,” Jimin answers, shocking Yoongi when he flips them around so that the older’s back was rested against the bedroom door, “but it seems like never enough,” and to make his statement true, he presses his lips against Yoongi’s once again, moaning loud in his throat when Yoongi clutches against his hips.
“Do you really want to do this?” Yoongi asks, always so cautious.
“Yes,” Jimin answers back, biting against Yoongi’s lips as soon as he opens the door.
If Yoongi had thought kissing Jimin constricted his breathing, fucking Jimin was the icing off the cake. Jimin is so goddamn beautiful in every way, his breaths, moans, whines, his begging for more and keep going riled Yoongi up to the very core. Like everything they had done was never enough, there’s always more skin, more lips, more tongue and more room for Yoongi to explore. And Jimin allowed him to, if anything, wanted him to.
“Hyung,” the younger whines, gripping against the bedsheets when Yoongi thrusts harder, “I wanna cum, please, I wanna cum.”
When the words fall, Yoongi hitches Jimin’s legs up over his shoulders, groaning when Jimin keens so loud over the sound of their hips smacking. They fall into this momentum, with Yoongi’s chest constricting with how beautiful Jimin is to Jimin needy for everything that Yoongi had encompassed.
“Let go Jimin, hyung’s got you,” Yoongi whispers, planting a kiss against Jimin’s forehead before the other cries out, nails digging harshly against Yoongi’s spine. It doesn’t take long for Yoongi to follow right after, with Jimin raising himself up so that he could kiss Yoongi on the lips, before slamming his hips back down for Yoongi to reach bliss.
“I’m glad you pulled me back to kiss you,” Yoongi laughs, running his hand up and down Jimin’s arm as they lay in bed tired, “I was so ready to drop kick Namjoon that day.”
“Can I tell you something?” Jimin asks softly.
“Yeah, of course.”
“I told them to bring you there,” Jimin answers, giggling when Yoongi freezes, “I was digging you so fucking bad but you’re oblivious to everything so I asked Namjoon for help.”
Yoongi scoffs, “When we first met I didn’t even talk to you, how could you dig that? I acted like a cheeseball.”
Jimin laughs again as he pushes himself up, the sound ringing pleasantly against Yoongi’s hearing. The smaller adjusts himself on top of his chest, causing Yoongi to smile when Jimin plants a soft kiss against his cheek.
“I guess I’m into cheeseballs,” Jimin confesses before kissing Yoongi once again.
This time on the lips, where Yoongi only comes back for more.
