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will you stay the night?

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“Watch where you’re going!”

Jimin turns around and barely dodges the forceful shove that a large business man aims at him, looking furious without any provocation.

“Sorry!” Jimin blurts out, keeping his bag firmly to his chest as he tries to dodge all the people shoving their way into the subway. It’s hard, he’s too short to see over the the masses pushing their way into the subway cart as he tries to make his way out.

He barely makes it out before the doors shut behind him and he stumbles onto the platform. God, maybe he should have just stayed on the farm. At least there he knows what he’s doing. At least there he knows how everything works.

He has no idea what he’s doing.

Grabbing the wrinkled piece of paper out of his pocket, he straightens it out. He’s close to the address written, he has to be. He was careful reading the strange map when buying his ticket. THe stop name was the street the paper says. Now all that’s left is finding the right building.

Exiting the underground station, he walks up to find the hustle and bustle of the city. Cars rush past him as people walk through the streets, not bothering to acknowledge him let alone ask if he needs help. He’s bombarded with different sights, huge buildings everywhere and a strange smell that he can’t really identify. It’s all foreign to him.

Everything’s not okay. His gut screams at him to go back home, run back to what’s familiar, to go back to what’s warm and comfortable.

Just because he didn’t fit in, just because he’s different than everyone in their small town, doesn’t mean it's not more welcoming that this— this terrifyingly loud city filled with so much movement. No one seems to bother with him, leaving him alone to decipher what to do. He feels tiny and insignificant in the face of everything that surrounds him, so large and imposing.

It took him so much courage to make the decision; he was so scared to leave, but he managed it. He worked himself to the bone to save up money to move out, all of his own money to keep his parents from bearing his burden.

He even called ahead and made arrangements so that he has somewhere to stay. He has a roof over his head, that he provided for himself, but he doesn’t even know where it is. It’s no good to him if he can’t find it in the first place.

“Cheong-gu” he mouths to himself, “2F.” It can’t be far from where he’s standing. It can’t be.

Gathering as much courage as he can muster, he grabs his stuff and starts to walk. He holds the paper in his hand tightly, dodging the daily workers on their commute as he tries his hardest to find the building, to find his new home.

He’s always been too quiet to have friends, too reserved and shy to connect with kids his own age. He knows he’s awkward, he knows that the people around him tried, but they just didn’t understand him. Heck, he doesn’t understand himself either half of the time.

“2F, 2F, 2F,” he chants under his breath as he looks around and sure enough, after a couple of minutes of walking, he finds the building he’s looking for.

It looks… It looks like it’s falling apart.

Sure, he knew that for the price he’s going to pay it wouldn’t be much, but he didn’t think that the building would look so run down. The bricks are in varying states, crumbling away and showing the world how little attention it gets. It’s beautiful in a way, how it’s history can be seen so easily, but it’s a little sad too. He understands the building well, standing as tall as it can while bearing the scars of time. He understands it a little too well.

Plastering a hopeful smile on his face, he walks in. Head held as high as he can, he walks up to the front desk, “Hi! I’m Park Jimin. I’m moving in from out of town? I was told to come to the front desk to pay for the first month and get my keys?”

The old man behind the register looks at him with a scowl on his face, staring Jimin down until he starts to feel like he’s wilting. Maybe he’s not in the right place after all. Maybe he’s being weird and too friendly, not at all how city people act.

The man gets up and goes through a bunch of files, grumbling to himself and Jimin just clutches his bag protectively. He’s never been alone before. He’s never had to deal with adults who have such apathy for the world. A pang of sadness goes through him, knowing that he won’t feel the protective embrace of his mother anytime soon. They won’t magically show up and fix everything for him, even if they could.

“Number 1113,” the man says, slamming down a pair of keys onto the ledge as soon as Jimin hands over the wad of cash. It’s all that he has on him, all but a few bills that should allow him to eat.

He needs a job.

“Thank you!” Jimin replies, trying to be optimistic. It’ll all work out. He’s not a bad person, he works really hard, and there must be people looking for workers around. He’s just going to have to look and prove his ability. He’s worked hard all his life, he’s sure there’s something around that he can do well.

He takes the stairs up, five flights leaving him breathless as he gets to his floor. At least he knows he won’t be getting fat, that’s for sure.

Keys gripped tightly in his right hand, he looks through the numbers on the doors, each one getting closer and closer until he finds his.

“Home, sweet home,” he mutters to himself before taking a deep breath and putting the key in the lock. It takes a little bit of jiggling it around, but it opens up.

The apartment is small, a tiny living room that connects with the kitchen and dining room. There are two doors on the left side and he figures that they’re the bathroom and bedrooms but he’s a little scared to see what they look like. What he can see, the open area that welcomes him is— dirty.

The couch doesn’t seem to have any questionable stains, but the state of the small dining table makes him scared to eat there. He can see some creepy crawlers scurrying across the floor and he swallows down the scared yelp.

He can do this. It just needs to be cleaned up a bit.

Taking a deep breath, he exhales slowly and steps in. The door creaks a little as it closes, but it reminds Jimin that this is his. He paid for this space all on his own. This is one hundred percent his, a product of what he’s worked so hard for. It’s the beginning of something new.

Tension leaves his shoulders as he drops his bag off on the counter. It just needs a little bit of work and it will be good as new. He’s going to make it work, just like he always does. He’s a fighter, but more so, he’s a survivor. He’s not going to give up so easily.

Looking around, he finds a large storage space. He goes through the cabinets in the spare hope that there are some sort of cleaning products around, and he’s surprised to find a fully stocked cleaning cabinet.

“Oh good,” he chimes, grabbing the supplies and setting them out. He’s no stranger to cleaning a house. With his parents leaving for long stretches of time, working on other people's farms and helping with the village farming, Jimin knows how to clean. He knows how to take care of himself. He knows his parents love him, but they were never really there for him. They taught him how to be independent, and even though it sucked at times, now he’s grateful.

He can do this. He can live in the city, all alone.

He’s going to prove all those people back home wrong.

He’s meticulous with his cleaning, sweeping out all the dust that’s accumulated over the disuse of the apartment. He can’t tell what’s a stain or what isn’t, but he scrubs at the floor all the same, cleaning it until it shines again. He disinfects the couch, brushing off as much of the gross layer of dust and god knows what else.

He works up a sweat, cleaning and scrubbing as much as he can until he steps back and feels the overwhelming sense of satisfaction curl in his gut. It looks like a place he can call home now. It’s small and dingy, but it’s clean and it’s his.

Grinning, he grabs his bag and makes his way into his bedroom. It’s not as dirty as the rest of the apartment was, but he still throws the sheets into the laundry machine he finds in the bathroom. Working up a sweat, he’s thorough with his efforts, getting into every nook and cranny of the bathroom and bedroom to make himself feel more welcome, more at home.

It’s familiar to him, working through the day and into the afternoon. He’s always done this, cleaned the house before going out and tending to the animals. Now he’s just done after cleaning the house.

His mom would be proud, he thinks absentmindedly as he looks around the bathroom. The overpowering scent of cleaning product threatens to make him feel lightheaded, but his efforts are worth it all. Each tile positively gleams when he’s done with them.

Wiping off the sweat on his brow, he looks around at his handy work. With a little bit of decoration it’ll look like a home. Like his home.

“Okay— food,” he looks around and goes to his fridge. He’s a bit disappointed to find it empty, but he couldn’t have expected the apartment to come with food. That’s just asking too much.

Leaving his bag in his room, he makes sure he has his wallet and keys before he walks out. He locks his door for the first time, grinning from ear to ear at just the knowledge that it’s the first time of many more. He walks down the stairs, too happy to be bothered with the amount of stairs and walks away from where he had come from. There has to be a corner store somewhere.

He roams aimlessly, looking around hopefully as he tries to find a store. He finds many restaurants and little shops, but it takes him well over twenty minutes of walking around before he finds something remotely like a corner store.

It’s huge.

He’s never seen a corner store with aisles, let alone multiple aisles filled with so many various products. He tries to keep his expression under control as much as he can, but with each new product he comes across, his eyes widen further and mouth drops.

There are over five kinds of ramen.

Staring at them all, his basket at his feet, he has no idea what to buy. He knows that he doesn’t have the money to be cooking, not just yet, but the ramen varies in price and amount so much he can’t help but debate them all carefully. He’s going to be living off them for the foreseeable future, he needs to be careful about his choices. He can’t spend all of his savings too early on.

He stands there, in front of all the ramen types until he grabs two of the most promising ones. They have big words printed on them that Jimin doesn’t really understand too well but they look good in the pictures.

He feels a presence to his right the longer he stands there. He pulls himself together, subconsciously making himself small and hoping to god that the guy doesn’t start something. He can feel it in his gut, the man is not good knews.

Feeling a bit more frantic, he glances over the two packets of ramen. They really all look the same and probably won’t taste amazing but they’ll both do their job.

A glare, intense and hot, bores itself into Jimin’s head. It’s not the first time someone has stared him down like this. It’s actually quite often. He’s the son of the two parents that are never home. He’s been stared ever since he can remember, his small town not understanding why, no matter how many girls throw themselves at him, he’s never going to like them back.

“Need help reading the label?” Jimin can taste the condescending tone thrown at him, the man’s face barely hiding a sneer, face scrunching up into an ugly expression. He doesn’t know what he did to make this man so angry. Jimin hasn’t done anything. The man doesn’t even know Jimin, and he’s staring him down as if he’s the bane of his existence.

“N-no,” Jimin whispers, throwing both ramen into his basket before running away. He hates the fact that he can’t say anything else, stand up for himself, but he knows it wouldn’t end well. It’s better if he just runs to the safety of his bed and hides. Nothing can hurt him in the safety of his home.

He ignores the loud “Pansy” thrown in his direction and focuses on his necessities. He throws in whatever he can into his basket and runs off to the cashier. The man, another elder, just stares him down and rings him up without a word. Jimin’s eyes widen as he realizes the price of his purchases, how expensive everything is and barely manages to pay in full.

The cashier ignores him aside from the amused huff before handing him his change and Jimin is scurrying out of the store. A dark feeling curls in his gut, a mix of fear and disappointment that reminds him that he can go home. He can quit and run back home.

Squeezing his eyes shut and forcing himself to breathe, he walks back to his apartment, eyes firmly planted onto the ground. He just wants to lay down and do nothing for the rest of the day. Tomorrow will be a better day, he reminds himself.

It has to be.

He makes his way all the way up the fights of stairs, panting a little by the time he makes it to his floor, and in the struggle to grab his keys he runs into someone.

“Fucking watch it,” the person snarls as Jimin tumbles to the ground in a heap. His bags of food fall around him and he does his best to pick them up and keep his eyes on the floor.

“S-sorry,” he whispers grabbing all of his things and ignoring the familiar prickling at the back of his eyes and tightening of his throat.

The man doesn’t do anything to help, just stands there and watches him for a moment, making Jimin feel small. He does his best to ignore the angry man, ignore the way his eyes well up as he scurries over to his door, shrinking into himself and desperate to hide. His hands shake as he tries to get the key in the lock and as he doesn’t spare the man a second look. As soon as the door gives in, he rushes inside and slams it shut.

He spends the rest of his day in bed, curled up in his sheets that smell like home and wishing that time could pause so that he can get his bearings. Everything moves so quickly in the city, from the people to the cars, and Jimin feels like he’s playing catch up from the moment he arrived. He left the village to see the world, to have a better life— a happier life, but he had no idea what he was getting himself into.

He’s always known he didn’t fit in with the other village boys. In school, they all talked about girls, how pretty they were and how soft they looked, but he never saw what it was they were talking about. He much prefered the strong jawlines and musky scent that they carried.

He asked his mother about it once, approaching her when he was barely fourteen years old; confused and feeling alone by how little he understood, how secluded he felt. Jimin asked her if it was weird, why he’s so different from them, but she just tightened her lips and told him he’d grow out of it.

He didn’t.

They never talked about it again.

 

 

That morning, he wakes up bright and early. Eager to start the day, he puts on his nicest clothes and goes out in search of a job. It’s hard, walking in and asking if they’re taking applications, but he manages it. He submits more applications than he can count but no matter what he does, none seem too interested in him.

He spends the whole day out, looking and asking around, but it’s not until he passes by a small restaurant across the street from his apartment that it starts to feel right. He walks inside the small establishment quietly, spying the “Help Wanted” sign off to the right and smiling. There’s a large and quite intimidating woman standing behind the register but he’s determined to make it work.

“G-good afternoon,” he greets as he walks up to her, “I saw your help wanted sign and I was wondering if the position is still open?”

She eyes him critically, not saying a word as her eyes rake over his body. He fights down the urge to fidget, determined to prove to her that he’s got what it takes to work at the restaurant. It looks small, giving off the family owned vibe and it really doesn’t seem to be too stressful. He needs a job more than anything.

“Have you ever been a waiter before?” She asks after a moment.

Jimin bites his bottom lip, eyes falling to the ground before breathing and looking back up at her, “I-I don’t have any experience with a j-job before—” he breathes and recites the same speech he’s done all day, “B-but i’ve worked in stables! I can stand on my feet for a really long time and I’m a quick learner! And I—” The woman stares him down critically as he speaks, making him fidget as he speaks.

The lady cuts him off by shoving a menu in his face, “If you don’t memorize the menu in a week, you won’t last as a waiter. The hours vary per week but I’ll give you your schedule a week in advance. Come in tomorrow and we’ll see how you do.”

He grins so hard he can barely see anything as he trips over his words to thank her. He bows and holds the menu tightly to his chest.

“You won’t regret it.” He promises one last time, clutching onto the menu before he runs off.

He studies the menu carefully as he eats, repeating the words in between bites and learning all of the ingredients. He’s familiar with most of the dishes, but the words are different. He recognizes the dish itself through his dialect, but the word is a little different from what is written.

He learns all thirty dishes, learns their ingredients, and what makes them different from one another. He stays up late until all he can think about is food and falls asleep muttering the different names.

When he shows up for his very first shift, he’s shown around the restaurant. It’s just as small on the inside as it looks to the customers. There are two cooks in the back, friendly enough but too busy to make small talk. According to the owner, the woman he spoke with the day before, there are only four waiters on staff, and the days are split among the two.

“It’s going to be a full time job, are you sure you can handle it, kid?”

Jimin nods his head furiously and does his best to learn all the information she gives him. He’s going to be both a waiter and a bus boy, cleaning up after the customers in between taking their orders. Thankfully, they have a part-time workers that wash the dishes in the back, so he won’t be taking care of that.

They spend the day working through the menu, shadowing a waiter and pretending to take their order and having his notes looked over. During his lunch, he’s fed by the cooks, kind smiles on their faces as he takes the offered plate and scurries over to a hidden employee section of the restaurant.

It’s hard, a lot of information thrown at him at once, but it’s not impossible. He takes his hour off to regain his strength and calm his brain before he’s back on the clock.

“Table three has a regular,” and she points him in the right direction before he’s thrown to the wolves. He stutters through his first few words but with the encouraging smile of the customer, he relaxes and manages to answer all of the questions the man has.

He gets the hang of it all, balancing the trays on his hands as he weaves his way through the tables and to his customers. It takes him a little while to remember exactly what everyone ordered, but it all works out well. By the end of his shift, not only is he exhausted, but he’s sent home with a smile on his face and a “good job, kid” to keep him going.

He walks back to his apartment, barely making his way up all the stairs. He’s so exhausted, so tired that at first he thinks he’s hallucinating the figure fidgeting in front of his door. Blinking and rubbing his eyes, he realizes he’s not.

The man can’t be much older than Jimin is, but the pinched look on his face draws out how intimidating he looks. A nagging feeling in his gut makes Jimin think that the man looks familiar, but he knows he’s never met someone like this before.

The bleached hair on his head falls into his face a little, fluffy but giving him an edge that clearly puts him as a rebel. That, along with the pierced eyebrow, lip, and nose tells Jimin that he’s definitely not the sort that he’s ever met before. More like the type that Jimin tends to stay away from. But what really surprises Jimin, is the awkward air that seems to follow him. He waits for a moment, hoping the man steps away from Jimin’s door. He doesn’t want to talk to him.

Sighing in resignation, Jimin clears his throat and takes a step forward, “Um, can I help you?”

The guy visibly startles and takes a step back, looking at Jimin with wide eyes. The surprise lasts for a split second before he’s straightening out and brushing himself off.

“Yeah uh, you’re the new kid, right?” His voice is low, raspy and slurring together. If his eyes weren’t so sharp and movements so controlled, Jimin would think he might be drunk, but they’re not. He looks distinctly in control.

“Y-yes?”

The guy clears his throat once more before running his hand through his hair, “Look, I just wanted to apologize,” he blurts out after a moment, “You looked really upset the other day and I shouldn’t have snapped at you the way I did.”

Jimin can hardly make out the words, his lazy drawl grumbling along as he refuses to make eye contact and looking painfully awkward as the moments pass.

He had almost forgotten

“Oh,” he breathes, eyes widening and staring at the man questioningly, “It’s okay?”

If anything, instead of making the man feel better he looks more agitated, glaring down at the ground with a pinched look on his face, “I was a dick, okay? I was having a shitty day then you practically rammed right into me and I reacted. I’m sorry. You ran away before I could help, I swear, I’m not a shitty person usually.”

Jimin laughs awkwardly and runs a hand through his hair. It is okay though, he had overreacted by crying. He had a bad day too.

“It’s okay,” he assures the man, “It was my first day here and everything was just too much. I overreacted, I— Can we start over?”

He smiles and wipes his hand off on his jeans before sticking his hand out politely, “I’m Park Jimin. 1113.”

The man looks stunned, but a hint of a smile graces his lips before he takes Jimin’s offered smile and speaks, “Min Yoongi. 1112.”

They look at each other for an awkward moment, not saying anything but Jimin takes the time to look at Yoongi carefully. Closer, he can see the light dusting of freckles on his face, the streaks of a light golden color in his dark eyes. Belatedly, Jimin realizes the man is pretty.

Sure, he has his right eyebrow pierced, but it doesn’t take away from his face. Paired with the stud in his nose and hoop around his bottom lip, it heightens his features, makes him look more cat like. His features are sharp, eyes small and dark, but his gentle smile says something else. The awkward tension that seems to follow Yoongi makes Jimin feel better, more comfortable around the elder and maybe a bit hopeful that he can make a friend.

Fidgeting around, he feels the outline of his key in his pocket, “D-Do you wanna come in?” He offers, taking the key out of his pocket and gesturing to his door.

With a jerky nod to his head, Yoongi agrees awkwardly and Jimin is shuffling over to open the door. He opens the door with minimal effort and gestures Yoongi to enter shyly.

“I-It’s not much,” he mumbles, tossing his keys onto the counter and straightening up whatever he can reach, “I haven’t really gotten the time to fix it up yet but—”

“Jimin,” Yoongi interrupts, “It’s fine. Looks better than my place, don’t worry about it.”

He chuckles awkwardly and turns to look at Yoongi shyly. Going through what his mother taught him about being a good host, he offers Yoongi some water, which he accepts with a small smile, and they both sit on the couch. The silence is thick, a bit awkward in Jimin’s opinion, but he’s trying really hard to hide his excitement.

He’s making a friend.

Yoongi, as grumpy and edgy as he may look, is in his apartment, sitting on his couch, and offering a strange truce. Yoongi may be his first friend in the city, but more than that, he may be Jimin’s chance at truly starting new.

“So, uh, you’re from out of town?” Yoongi breaks the silence.

Jimin smiles and nods, putting his glass down and turning to look at Yoongi, “Yeah! I’m from a small town a couple of hours out. My first time doing the adulting thing on my own.”

The conversation is a bit stilted at moments, falling into awkward silences in between, but they manage to eventually move past the stilted words. Jimin laughs at Yoongi’s complaints about their neighbors, stories about the situations that Yoongi wishes he could ignore, and Jimin in turn, tells him all about the animals he took care of, the moody cow that never seemed to want to move to the pig that always wanted to bite his ankles.

They talk and talk and before he knows it, the stars are out in the night sky and he’s yawning so hard his eyes water.

“I’ll get out of your hair, I don’t think your eyes will open back up if they close one last time,” Yoongi teases as he stands.

Jimin pouts as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes, but he stands nonetheless, “Ah, not all of us are seasoned adults.” His voice is whinier than he was aiming for, but the small smile on Yoongi’s face makes it worth it.

“Yah, listen to your elders and just go to sleep,” Yoongi ruffles Jimin’s hair before walking over to the door, “Oh, before I forget. Give me your number, I don’t want you getting lost or something.”

Jimin blinks for a moment, trying to figure out what Yoongi’s talking about until he sees the small device that the elder fishes out of his pocket.

“Oh uh, I don’t— I don’t have a phone?”

Yoongi blanches, “What do you mean, you don’t have a phone? Not even a landline?”

Jimin blushes and looks down at the floor, shaking his head shyly. He never needed a cellphone and he hasn’t been in the city long enough to know how to get a landline. He’s still learning how everything works.

“Yah, what am I going to do with you?” Yoongi complains teasingly, patting his head and waiting until Jimin lifts his head before smiling, “I’ll take you shopping as soon as you get your first paycheck then. You won’t survive the city without a cellphone.”

He leaves with a smile and Jimin closes the door with a furious blush on his face, trying to calm his racing heart. He can feel the twisting in his gut, his fluttering heart saying something that Jimin doesn’t want to acknowledge.

Yes, Yoongi’s nice, and has a breathtaking smile, and is soft under the hard shell he puts up, but he’s so painfully out of Jimin’s league. He’s probably not into boys, either. Even if he is, there’s no one that looks like that would ever want someone as plain as Jimin.

But it’s okay.

He’s just excited he made a friend.

 

 

They greet each other whenever they have the chance. Jimin usually runs into him after a shift, later on at night unless he has a closing shift. He doesn't know what Yoongi does for a living, but he’s always leaving the house as Jimin’s making his way home.

It’s nice though, seeing the small smile and shy wave in his direction before they part ways. Every time Jimin sees Yoongi his tummy does this thing that he really can’t describe and he blushes a lot but thankfully Yoongi doesn’t mention it. He grows comfortable in his routine.

It’s not until he gets his first paycheck that they hang out again.

His boss, Kyung-min, surprises him on his shorter day shifts with a paycheck, “Here you go kid, don’t spend it all in one place.”

He grins, bright and his eyes disappear with the force of his smile but he doesn’t care. He’s worked hard for weeks and for the first time ever, he’s handed a paycheck. It’s a lot. It’s more money than he’s ever seen in one place but he knows it’s probably not too much with how much things cost.

Too excited to question himself, he runs home and straight to Yoongi’s door. Just as he’s about to lift his hand to knock he hesitates. Was Yoongi serious about taking him shopping? Maybe it was just something he said to make Jimin feel better. He doesn’t even know if Yoongi’s home, let alone free to go out with him.

But Yoongi doesn’t seem like the kind of person to make empty promises. They smile at each other. They’re kind of friends.

It doesn’t hurt to try.

Brushing away any doubts, Jimin raises his fist and knocks lightly. Nerves eat at his gut and he shyly shifts from foot to foot as he waits for some sort of response. Yoongi could be busy, or sleeping, or literally anything else and Jimin could just be bothering him.

It feels like hours, he stands in front of the door and a part of him knows that it’s not nearly as long as it feels but with each passing moment he feels more and more hesitant. Chewing on his bottom lip, he stares at the door and when he doesn’t hear anything, no grumbling no noise at all, he starts debating on leaving.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

Taking a deep breath, he shakes his head and turns to walk away just as the door flies open to show a sleepy Yoongi. Startled, Jimin yelps and takes a step back before smiling. Yoongi’s pale blond hair sticks out every which way and his eyes are puffy and— Oh, he’s the cutest person Jimin has ever seen.

“H-hi. I got my first paycheck, Yoongi-ssi!” He bites his bottom lip both nervous and excited, holding up the check and looking at Yoongi expectantly.

The sleepy pout on Yoongi’s face morphs into a pretty smile, soft around the edges and Jimin has to remind himself to breathe.

“Did you want to go shopping?” Yoongi’s voice is much lower than usual, rough with disuse but Jimin can’t help but think it’s perfect. It fits Yoongi perfectly. Rough but soothing all the same.

Jimin bounces on his heels a little, too excited to contain it properly but he tries to keep his voice from betraying him, “Yeah! I mean, yes. If um, if you still want to? I-I don’t know if you’re busy or something? I don’t want to interrupt you or anything.”

Yoongi waves him off and shuffles into the darkness of his apartment. He leaves the door open and Jimin considers standing where he is before deciding that’s weird. Clearly, Yoongi left the door open so he could come in.

Swallowing, Jimin straightens and takes a step inside.

The layout is identical to Jimin’s but it looks so different. There’s all kinds of stuff taped up on the walls, posters of bands to album covers. A soft carpet circles around the couch and Jimin wants to run his hands over it, wants to know if it’s as soft as it feels. It’s just as small as Jimin’s, but this feels like a home, lived in and personalized perfectly for Yoongi.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” he calls out and Jimin makes a sound in acknowledgment before looking around. The kitchen is surprisingly sparse, only a toaster and a fancy looking coffee machine on the counter. The stove itself looks surprisingly clean but something tells Jimin that Yoongi doesn’t cook all too often.

Yoongi pulls him out of his musings and they share a smile, “Are you sure? I don’t want to—”

“Nah, it’s okay Jimin. We need to get you looking like us city folk,” Yoongi’s tone is light and teasing, nudging Jimin out of his apartment and into the hallway.

The trip isn’t long and Yoongi drags them into the first clothing shop Jimin sees. It’s all huge, hundreds of clothing items and Jimin has no idea where to start. Nothing here looks like anything he owns, and he pouts. It’s not that he doesn’t like them, they all look incredibly cool and fashionable, but Jimin has no idea if he can pull them off. He’s never been the stylish one.

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” He asks, looking down at his outfit. Sure, the jeans he’s wearing are a little worn, but they’re good quality. They’ve lasted him years and the shirt, well— that could an improvement actually.

Yoongi stares at him, looking Jimin up and down before raising an eyebrow and offering him a plain black shirt, “Just go try it on.”

Yoongi stares at him critically through each clothing choice, making sure he’s getting stuff that Jimin likes but also looks good in. He’s not going to lie, having so much of Yoongi’s attention makes him feel giddy, happy that Yoongi seems satisfied by how Jimin looks but it also makes him nervous.

He wants to please Yoongi.

Most of his paycheck ends up being spent on a phone, the cheapest they can get their hands on and a small prepaid card that he plans on reloading as soon as he can. Jimin carries around his two bags, one from the clothing store and one from the phone store, much too happy and practically skipping ahead to wherever Yoongi plans on going next.

“You hungry at all?”

Before Jimin can answer, his stomach growls loudly and Jimin chuckles bashfully, rubbing his stomach and mentally scolding his body. That’s so embarrassing.

“Come on, we’ll grab some take-out and eat at my place,” and before Jimin can question him, Yoongi walks off.

Yoongi ends up paying for dinner, claiming it to be Jimin’s reward and he’s too happy, too busy preening to complain. They shuffle in together and Yoongi hooks up his laptop to his computer so they can watch something while they eat.

“Ah, thank you hyung!” He beams before shoving food in his mouth and nearly choking as he realized he just called Yoongi ‘hyung’ without permission. Eyes wide, he looks over to Yoongi but he’s just smiling into his food so Jimin figures he’s not upset.

They watch the movie as they eat, talking in between bites and laughing at whatever is happening on the screen. Jimin finds out that Yoongi makes music for a living, making his hours sportatic and his sleeping schedule all kinds of shitty.

It makes sense, but as soon as Jimin asks to hear something of his own, Yoongi looks away shyly and segways into another topic. Jimin can’t help but feel endeared by how shy Yoongi is about his music. Although Jimin doesn’t know much about music, anything really, he has no doubt in his mind that Yoongi would make amazing stuff.

One movie turns into two and after some hot tea in his belly, Jimin feels warm and comfortable on the couch. His eyes droop in the middle of the movie and he starts losing track of what’s happening.

When he opens his eyes, he’s faced with the bright rays of sunshine on his face. Disoriented, he looks around as he tries to figure out where he is. It takes him a moment or two for his brain to kick into gear, but as he takes in his surroundings, he remembers he was with Yoongi the night before.

Face burning in embarrassment, he sits up and looks for Yoongi himself, but the door to the bedroom is closed and he’s covered in a blanket. It calms him a little. Yoongi must know that he stayed over and made sure he wouldn't get cold.

A new warmth unfurls in his chest, completely unrelated to the blanket surrounding him. Yoongi cared enough to make sure he doesn’t get cold. Yoongi sacrificed a pillow for Jimin.

Smiling, he leans back and nuzzles into the comfort of the pillow beneath his head, enjoying the welcoming smell that must be all Yoongi.

He wakes up a second time to the sound of Yoongi shuffling around in the kitchen, looking back at him sheepishly.

“Sorry,” he smiles, scratching the back of his head, “You hungry? I was going to make breakfast.”

 

 

Their meetings don’t stop. With his new phone, Jimin has a direct line of contact to Yoongi, sending him photos of things he finds funny and texting him when he’s bored.

They hang out almost every weekend, relaxing on the couch and watching a movie together before going their separate ways. Jimin gets comfortable, going to Yoongi whenever he’s struggling with something but also whenever he’s feeling lonely. Yoongi never fails to open his door, welcoming Jimin in with a gentle smile.

Even on the days that he’s clearly exhausted, he’ll let Jimin in and they’ll lie on the couch watching something as Yoongi dozes next to him.

It’s enough.

 

 

“Such pretty waiters here, I should come more often,” is the first thing Jimin hears as he walks up to the table with an older man sitting alone.

Jimin feels his shoulders tense but he keeps a tight smile on his face, doing his best to be polite to the customer and keep them satisfied, “Good afternoon. I’m Jimin and I’ll be taking your order tonight. Would you like to start off with some drinks?”

The man looks Jimin up and down meaningfully before smirking, “I’d love a nice long drink of whatever it is you want me to, Jimin.” Jimin fights the full body shudder that threatens to overwhelm him. He wants to scrub off the man’s gaze, go shower and wash off how dirty it makes him feel.

“W-water it is,” he stutters before nodding and rushing off, hiding behind the door of the kitchen. He wants to hand the table over, get rid of the customer, but he knows that he can’t. He’s the last waiter left this late, closing with Kyung-min and she’s busy in the back. He can’t go bother her.

He busies himself with wiping down the area around him and helping close as much as he can before he forces himself to get the cup of water and bring it out to him.

“Ah, and here I thought you’d bring me something a little more,” he leers over at Jimin’s ass, “personal.” he says as soon as Jimin walks up to his table.

Jimin swallows down the bile rising in his throat and sets the drink onto his table, “Are you ready to order some food?”

“I know what I’d like to eat isn’t on the menu, but I’ll have this for now,” he bites his bottom lip in what Jimin assumes is supposed to be an enticing expression before pointing down to the menu.

Jimin jerks his head into a nod and jots it down before walking away. He hands the cooks’ the order before checking up with Kyung-min and making sure that everything is going smoothly. He does as he’s told, wiping down the tables and cleaning up around the single customer left in the restaurant.

“You’re really pretty you know?” He hears from behind him and he makes sure to keep his eyes on the table and ignore the man.

He’s persistent, but thankfully he stays in his seat but getting progressively louder, “Aw, come on sweetness, don’t be like that. You should be thanking me for the compliments.”

Jimin straightens and turns to look at the customer, judging his intentions. If he just acknowledges the words— not compliments if you ask him— then maybe he’ll stop. Maybe he’ll be satisfied and let Jimin do his job right.

“Thank you, now excuse me, I have to get back to my job.” Jimin bites out, trying his best to sound neutral at least but he scurries off as soon as he can, ignoring the sleazy words thrown at his back.

He gets as much done as possible before he has to take the man’s food out, the last thing the cooks prepared and they’re more than ready to shut the kitchen down.

“Thanks,” he says as he puts the food on the tray and walks out.

“I didn’t realize you’re not from around here,” the customer mumbles as he walks up to the table, “It’s exotic, but you’d be prettier without the dialect. Makes you sound stupid. You should work hard to talk with the city accent.”

Jimin ignores the tightness in his throat and sets the food down gently, careful not to make a mess, “Here you go. Please let me know if there are any problems with your meal.”

It’s not until the man smacks his ass that Jimin breaks composure, shocked and horrified with the man’s actions, “How about you show me how pretty that ass is outside? Hm? I’ll make it worth your time.”

“I-I” he tries to say something but nothing comes out. Scared and uncomfortable, he runs away, ignoring the laughter from behind him and going straight to Kyung-min.

“I-I have a c-customer and—” he tries to speak as quickly as he can, but the words don’t seem to be coming out right, “H-he’s being really i-inappropriate and he—” he shudders as he remembers the way the man’s hand felt on his body, absolutely disgusting, “t-touched me, a-and I can’t—”

She straightens and looks behind him, a hard look forming on her face as she steps out from the employee area and walks straight to the table. He doesn’t follow, he can’t be around the man— not again, but he sees the angry look from the customer. Jimin hears his angry words, insulting her, insulting him, but he breathes a little better once the man is outside and Kyung-min locks the door.

“Sorry Jiminie, they get like that sometimes.”

Jimin forces a smile as he nods before getting back to work, throwing the leftover food away before wiping it all down and closing everything down. He wants to go home. He wants to go home and take a hot shower. He wants to scrub off the dirty feeling that courses through him, making him feel cheap and used.

No one has ever said something like that before, payed attention to him in that kind of way. No one has ever said nice things about him, and made him feel so wrong.

It feels wrong.

He works quickly and Kyung-min takes it easy on him, sending Jimin home early and telling him to take it easy. It’s already closer to midnight than eleven anyway, so there wasn’t much time left on the clock. He can’t wait to go home. He just needs a shower and his warm bed.

As he’s locking up the doors behind him, he hears footsteps to his right. A figure walking towards his direction, grumbling something loudly. The man is too far to see who it is, streetlights not clear enough, but as he gets closer, Jimin can make the outline of the figure— the customer that was harassing him earlier.

Fear shoots through him as he sees the figure approaching him. He doesn’t look happy. Doesn’t sound happy, and Jimin has no idea what the man is capable of.

Scared, Jimin barely manages to pocket his keys before turning and walking of to his house as quickly as he can without running on the off chance he’s making it all up. Maybe it’s not even the man, but a stranger just walking down the street. Maybe the man isn’t actually after Jimin, just walking towards the restaurant.

These thoughts are all shut down as he hears the “Jimin,” called after him, the gruff voice sounding much less sober and a lot more angry than it had previously.

Thankfully, Jimin sees his building quickly and while he can hear the man behind him still, he books it up the stairs as quickly as he can. No matter how many times he’s had to go up the five flights of stairs, it never feels easier. It exhausts him and makes him regret every life choice. But not tonight. His thighs ache and lungs burn but Jimin pushes himself, forcing himself to keep going until he reaches his floor.

It’s hard, he’s tired and his legs feel like they’re ready to give out but he makes it to his floor and makes his way down the hallway. He’s almost clear, almost in his home before someone emerges out of nowhere. He gets a pang of deja vu, seeing Yoongi open his door and walk out almost in slow motion as his brain works in overtime. It’s not enough time to react. Jimin barely has time to look at Yoongi’s surprised face before he’s running right into him.

“What the—” Yoongi remarks, hands steadying Jimin before he notices who it is and laughs, “Still running into people, I see?”

But Jimin doesn’t get a chance to reply before he hears the customer call another teasing “Jimin,” that sends chills down his spine, gut curling as he grips Yoongi’s jacket tightly in his fist and turns to look at the stairwell.

Not a moment later, the figure that was following makes it’s way through the staircase and into the hallway, zeroing in on Jimin.

It’s as if a switch is flipped, Yoongi’s open expression shutting instantly as he takes a step forward, standing between Jimin and the customer.

“Ran to your boyfriend, slut?” The man sneers and Yoongi’s posture seems to change from straight to defensive almost instantly. Taking the offered protection, Jimin holds on to the back of Yoongi’s jacket and watches from over his shoulder, doing his best to stop the way his body trembles.

Excuse you?” Yoongi’s words are flat, but Jimin can practically taste the venom in his voice.

The customer straightens and puffs out his chest, “Come on, you’re a pretty thing. Let a real man show you how good a cock can feel.”

“You don’t get to speak to him like that,” Yoongi bites back, taking a step forward. He looks and feels ready to fight this man, even though he looks two times as heavy as Yoongi and easily a head taller.

The man snorts looking at Yoongi briefly, “Who’s going to stop me? Your skinny ass?”

Fear strikes Jimin— fear for Yoongi’s well being. There’s no doubt in his mind that Yoongi would be willing to fight this man. But Jimin doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want Yoongi to get hurt because of Jimin. This is all his fault. He should have stayed at the restaurant later. He should have waited, maybe then Yoongi could have avoided Jimin’s personal drama.

“Y-yoongi, come on, please I—” he whispers, but the trembling in his body keeps him from saying what he wants. He doesn’t want anyone to get hurt.

Yoongi’s hand reaches back to his and they tangle for a moment, squeezing Jimin’s in his own reassuringly, “Listen, old man. Why don’t you just go home and leave us alone, hm? Go find someone who’s actually willing to touch you.”

“Why you little snotty—”

Yoongi interrupts his words easily, voice firm as he takes his cellphone out of his pocket, “If you don’t leave, I’ll have to get the police involved.”

The man seems to be contemplating Yoongi’s words, staring him down. A moment passes before Yoongi looks down and starts dialling, holding the phone up to his ear.

The customer stares and stares but eventually he throws a, “Filthy whore, not worth it anyway. Bet anyone could stick it in your stretched ass” over his shoulders before walking out of the hallway and down the stairs.

Jimin’s trembling turns into him shaking uncontrollably, trying to swallow down the sobs that threaten to make it out of his throat.

“Hey, hey, shh, it’s okay,” Yoongi turns around and wraps his arms around Jimin, making soothing noises as he rubs his back slowly. Jimin clutches onto him tightly, feeling as if Yoongi’s the only person keeping him tied down. Reminding him that the man’s words aren’t real. They aren’t true.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, face pressed against Yoongi’s shoulder, “I’m so sorry, hyung. You shouldn’t have had to deal with that I—” he does his best to keep his voice even but he knows he’s failing. He squeezes his eyes shut and does his best not to cry. That horrible man is not worth Jimin’s tears, even if they are of frustration.

“Hey, no,” Yoongi quickly whispers back, running his hands through Jimin’s black hair, “Don’t say sorry. That wasn’t your fault. That asshole had no right to say those things to you. I’m glad I was here. I’m sorry you had to deal with him.” Jimin nods and does his best to take steadying breaths.

They stand there, Yoongi making cooing noises as he strokes Jimin’s hair while Jimin tries to gather himself enough to take a step back. It takes him a moment or two, enjoying the warmth and comfort Yoongi provides before he finally feels comfortable taking a step back and away from Yoongi.

“T-thank you,” he whispers and Yoongi waves him off with a smile.

“It’s nothing,” he assures, “Did you want to come in? I can offer you a nice warm shower and a movie after?”

A pang of fondness, of pure affection curls in his gut as Yoongi speaks How can someone like Yoongi exist? What has Jimin done to be so lucky?

He nods his head gratefully before they’re making their way back inside Yoongi’s apartment. It looks just as Jimin remembers it last, varying in the levels of mess based on the day of the week, but it’s as familiar to Jimin as his own. He feels at home here, with Yoongi, even after the monumentally horrible day he’s had.

“You can leave your clothes on the toilet and I can leave you a clean pair? If you don’t mind?”

Jimin smiles gratefully and restrains the need to hug him. He’s unable to voice how he feels, how thankful he is, so he just does as he’s told.

The hot water feels amazing on his skin, refreshing and he allows himself a moment or two to just stand under the relaxing spray and let his mind forget. He hums happily as he smells Yoongi’s products, greedily taking in their familiar scent and enjoying the way it permeates his skin.

He scrubs off the day, scrubs off the feeling of the horrible words and the presence of the man, replacing it with the warmth of the water and the lovely smell of Yoongi.

He doesn’t hear Yoongi entering the bathroom at all, but as he pulls the thick curtain away, he sees a fresh pair of sweatpants and a shirt that Jimin’s seen Yoongi wear way too many times to count. It makes the affection in his chest grow, threatening to overwhelm him but he swallows it down.

Yoongi is so caring— takes such good care of Jimin that it almost hurts his heart with how much he feels.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he slips into the offered clothes and emerges from the bathroom. He sees Yoongi fidgeting in the kitchen before he walks over to Jimin and offers up a cup of tea.

“Chamomile,” he whispers as he hands it over and Jimin smiles.

He blows on the tea before taking a careful sip and humming happily, “My favorite. Thanks, hyung.”

Yoongi chuckles awkwardly before rubbing the nape of his neck and looking away. Jimin spies the slight blush tinting his cheeks but decides not to mention it. He’s done so much for Jimin, there’s no need for him to call Yoongi out for anything, even if it is utterly endearing.

“So, uh,” Yoongi looks down before smiling up at Jimin hesitantly, “Movie?”

They settle onto the couch easily, familiar with their dynamics after several months of hanging out and watching movies, but this time it’s a little different. They sit closer together. Jimin can feel Yoongi pressed along his side and his long, skinny fingers carding through his wet hair.

It’s comfortable. Honestly, it’s more than comfortable but Jimin can’t think of a word that could possibly describe what he’s feeling.

It’s not his fault he starts leaning into the touch, resting his head on Yoongi’s shoulder. It’s not his fault his eyes start to droop, feeling safe and protected in Yoongi’s home.

 

 

He wakes up with his face nuzzled into Yoongi’s shoulder and his arms around Jimin’s waist. He blinks the sleep out of his eyes and it takes him a moment before he realizes his situation.

Jimin startles back, falling onto the floor in a heap and waking Yoongi. The elder groans and moves around before cracking an eye open and looking down at Jimin weirdly.

“What are you doing on the floor?”

Jimin runs a hand through his hair and chuckles awkwardly, “Ah, sorry, hyung. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you like that.”

Yoongi as he stretches, looking all to similar to a cat as he groans happily before scratching his tummy and smiling, “Don’t sweat it Jiminie. It wouldn't be the first time I wake up with another man.”

Jimin’s brain stutters as he processes the words, but he forces himself to chuckle as he stands up.

What does that even mean?

Maybe he’s been wrong to assume that Yoongi isn’t into boys. Not that it matters because that doesn’t mean that he’d be into Jimin, but it still makes Jimin rearrange the way he sees Yoongi.

A traitorous glint of hope glows in his chest, no matter how hard he tries to snuff it out.

 

 

After that night, it's as if a barrier is lifted. They start touching more, gentle caresses that remind Jimin that Yoongi is there, is with him and enjoying his presence. Jimin never fails to go pliant whenever Yoongi graces him with attention, leaning into the touch. He’s greedy, he'll admit, willing to do almost anything to have Yoongi praise him with pretty words and soft touches.

Along the same time, Yoongi starts showing up at the restaurant. At first Jimin thinks that it's random, that Yoongi just happens to like the food, but when Kyung-Min starts teasing him about his friend only showing up when he closes, Jimin starts to question it. Jimin thinks he's sneaky, asking in roundabout ways what Yoongi’s up to, but Yoongi just smiles and pats his head giving non-answers.

No matter how many times Jimin tries to assure Yoongi that he's fine, the walk is less than five minutes and he's an adult who can take care of himself, Yoongi just sighs and holds Jimin chin carefully.

“I was hungry, Jiminie. I'm just lucky that you happen to be there too,” and Jimin knows Yoongi is full of it, he knows that Yoongi is going out of his way, but he can't stuff out the affection blooming in his chest. Even if he wishes Yoongi wouldn't worry, he's pleased that he does.

Jimin doesn't know when it happens, or how it happened, but what felt like a gentle attraction, what felt like childish affection, has grown into a full body ache. He's never felt like this before.  He's had crushes, he knows what it's like to want to feel a pair of lips on his own, a hand on his own, but what Yoongi makes him feel— it's something completely different. He craves Yoongi's attention, his time and treasures each moment they spend together.

 

 

It's a night like many others, Jimin resting on the couch with Yoongi after a long shift, happily relaxing as Yoongi cards his fingers through his hair and they watch something on the television. He loves this, loves how relaxed they both are, how comfortable they are in their silence.

His sighs happily as Yoongi's nails scratch deliciously against his scalp and goosebumps erupt all over his skin. He feels Yoongi’s pleased chuckle under his head and he lets his head press further into the touch.

His head goes fuzzy, hazy with comfort and a gentle sleepiness that makes his limbs heavy.

He doesn't know what happens, but the next thing he knows, there's a sharp yank at the strands in Yoongi's hold and a noise he's never made escapes his mouth.

Hot embarrassment courses through him as he freezes, muscles tightening with tension and he's horrified to feel himself twitching in his pants. Something like this has never happened to him, he's never felt the zing of heat shoot down his spine and even though it feels good, much too good, he can't believe what just happened with Yoongi.

Yoongi freezes behind him and dread courses through Jimin's body. He can't believe that just happened. He's singlehandedly just ruined the easy comfort they've worked so hard to create. He's made it awkward and he hates it. He hates that he's so weird, that he can't be normal.

“S-sorry hyung, I just remembered I have t-this thing, I'll just— yeah,” stutters out, standing as he jerks towards the door without looking at Yoongi's face and practically runs out the door. He hides in his house, running straight to his bed and screaming in frustration into his pillow.

He feels hot and hard between his legs, a foreign feeling and he aches to explore but he can't. He won't do that to Yoongi. He's already made things bad enough, making strange noises and feeling something inappropriate for his friend. He shouldn't have done that. He should have been in better control of of his body.

Jimin wants to hide in his bed and never come out.

He just made everything so awkward and his only friend, his best friend, is going to think he's weird.

He is weird though. He doesn't understand why getting his hair pulled would make him feel the way it did. The heat that shot down his spine and curled in his gut is unlike anything he's ever felt before.

Embarrassed and sad, Jimin falls asleep in his bed, doing his best to try to forget his horrible mistake. Maybe he can make it better in the morning.

 

—  

 

It's not better in the morning.

He wakes up later than he should and as he's closing his front door, he bumps straight into Yoongi.

The awkward tension is palpable between them, silence so thick it could be cut with a butter knife but Jimin has no idea what to do.

“S-sorry, hyung—” he speaks just as Yoongi does and he doesn't catch what the other says, much too preoccupied with trying to express how sorry he feels. He wants to fix it, fix their friendship, but he has no idea how.

They both stop half way through their sentence and encourage the other to go first.

“You go first, Jimin.”

Jimin looks down at the ground and swallows, twisting his hands around and biting at his bottom lip with nerves, “I'm sorry I made everything awkward. I completely understand if you need s-space or something. I'm really, really sorry.”

Yoongi stays quiet and with each second that passes, the guilt churns more and more in Jimin's gut.

“It's okay,” Yoongi says after a moment, “I thought I made things awkward.”

Jimin looks up, brows scrunched with surprise as he looks at Yoongi curiously, “But I made the weird noise?”

“Yeah, but I liked it?” He counters, looking at Jimin before his eyes dart out as he nervously plays with his lip ring. Jimin's eyes widen as he watches Yoongi, looking nervous and surprised with himself, but Jimin just replays his words in his head, over and over in the hopes that he can make out what he could possibly mean.

“You— What do you mean?” He blurts out, too confused to understand what's happening. He wants to make whatever happened better but his head hurts as he tries to comprehend the meaning behind Yoongi's words.

Just as Yoongi is about to open his mouth, Jimin's phone rings and reminds him with a jolt that he's supposed to be at work.

“Oh no— sorry, hyung but can we continue this conversation later? I have work in,” he looks down at his phone and bites his lip, “less than five minutes. I really need to go. I'm so sorry, hyung!” He worries his lip between his teeth and his words are barely above a whisper but he can't linger. Throwing a wave over his shoulder, Jimin books it down the stairs and across the street to the restaurant.

He can't focus his entire shift, brain stuttering over orders and procedures as he tries to do everything right. He can't stop thinking about Yoongi's words.

But I liked it.

Hot embarrassment courses through him as he thinks about it. He doesn't understand.

Kyung-min keeps him in task and it feels like his longest shift to date. He wants it to be over, but at the same time he doesn't want to talk with Yoongi. The uncertainty of their future makes Jimin uneasy.

All too soon, Kyung-min is sending him to the back and he's clocking out. He trudges his way up the stairs, slow and steady but before he knows it, he's on his floor, facing his hallway and looking straight at Yoongi. Taking a deep breath, Jimin squares his shoulders and does his best to appear half as nervous as he feels.

They smile at each other but neither say anything.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry I made this awkward. I’m sorry that I made the weird noise. I’m sorry that I like you. I promise I won’t make things weird. Please don’t be mad at me,” the words flow out faster than Jimin can follow and he prays that Yoongi understands, that he doesn't ask Jimin to repeat himself because he doesn't think he could say it again.

It's silent all over again but Jimin's face burns, from his ears to his neck with embarrassment, unable to look up and face Yoongi.

“What? Jimin, you—” Yoongi says after a moment but Jimin can't bring himself to look at Yoongi so he can tell what the elder is feeling, “I’m definitely not mad at you? I like you too?”

Jimin freezes and he looks up at Yoongi hesitantly, unable to believe his words, “W-what? Hyung, I like like you. The way a boy a-should like a girl? I-I know it's a weird and—”

Yoongi's hand cups Jimin's cheek softly and his thumb stops Jimin's lips from moving, “I like you, Jimin. The way a boy can like another boy. It's not weird.” His words are quiet but there's a firm reassurance behind them that calms Jimin, just a little.

They're shy and Jimin's brain feel like it's working in overtime trying to process it all. Yoongi softly offers to watch a movie, something familiar and easy, while Jimin takes time to think.

They're stilted for a while, Jimin too far in his head to acknowledge whatever is playing on the screen. It takes him several replays of their conversation to relax just a little, starting to believe that Yoongi isn't mad at him or weirded out by what happened.

“Wait, you like me? Like, like, like me?” He blurts out, sitting up and looking straight at Yoongi.

The elder just laughs, eyes crinkling in amusement and he pinches Jimin's cheek out of nowhere, “How could I not? You're too cute.”

Jimin blushes, but he needs to confirm it, needs to confirm that he understands, “Even though I'm a boy?”

“Even though you're a boy.” Yoongi confirms gently before leaning in and softly whispering, “You're much prettier than any girl I've ever seen.”

Jimin blushes all over again, but this time it's not from embarrassment, but rather from pleasure. Happy and a bit shy, he hides his face in his hands and tries his best to stop grinning.

It doesn't work.

 

 

A week later, they find themselves cuddled on the couch. With Jimin's head on Yoongi's shoulder and legs thrown over his lap, Jimin decides he's happy with the way their relationship has developed.

Although not much has changed, they cuddle a lot more, touching comfortably and Jimin lets himself enjoy the attention. He lets himself enjoy the emotion that builds in his chest, making him feel warm all over.

“Hyung?” He whispers, tracing shapes on Yoongi's shirt as he tries to form his thoughts. He's been thinking about it for a while, about what it's like to kiss someone on the lips, but he's been too shy.

Yoongi turns his head into Jimin and presses a kiss to his hair before making a noise of acknowledgement.

“W-what is it like to k-kiss someone?” His voice is soft, so very soft and shy but he's proud that they came out.

Yoongi makes a strange noise, like he's choking or something, but he doesn't stop carding his fingers through Jimin's hair. The soft caresses calm Jimin's nerves and he forces himself to relax on his lap.

“It um,” Yoongi starts after a moment, “it really depends on the person and the relationship they have. I've kissed more people than I care to say but it's not always been nice.”

Jimin nods but stays quiet, continuing to trace shapes into his chest. Insecurity gnaws at his chest, fighting the easy comfort he had before. Of course Yoongi's kissed a lot of people. That makes sense. Jimin's not blind, the man is beautiful, piercings and all, people would be dumb not to want to kiss him. He’s nothing like Jimin.

Jimin is so inexperienced he's never kissed someone that aren't his parents, and even then, it wasn't often.

He lets himself lean deeper into Yoongi and forces himself to breathe. It's okay though. Yoongi said it himself, he likes Jimin in a non-platonic way.

“C-can you— Would you like to—” Jimin takes a deep breath, chewing on his bottom lip and doing his best to ask for what he wants, “t-to kiss me?” His face burns hot, shy and embarrassed as his voice wavers through his words. He's never done that before and he wants to know what it would be like. Wants to know what it would be like to kiss Yoongi, to have Yoongi's lips over his own.

The hand that was resting over Jimin's legs comes up to caress his cheek, softly coaxing Jimin to look Yoongi in the face, “Of course, baby. I'd love to kiss you.”

Jimin's heart clenches and he feels his limbs tingle as he hears the word— baby.

His eyes meet Yoongi's and there's an emotion there, a gentle edge in the typically fierce eyes. Yoongi glances down to Jimin's lips and the distance between them slowly diminishes. Jimin's breath catches in his throat, anticipation thrumming deep in his core.

Eyes slip shut as their noses touch. A small smile blooms on his face as Yoongi nuzzles into his cheek, pressing a small kiss there before he drags his lips down. Jimin feels so ready, body nearly humming with how much he wants.

He feels the soft puffs of Yoongi's breath on his face and then— they're kissing.

The kiss is so soft, a barely there meeting of their lips that makes Jimin hum happily. Yoongi's lips are soft, much softer than he'd thought. The metal hoop along his bottom lip feels strange, but it's not unwelcome. It reminds him who he's kissing.

He's kissing Min Yoongi.

Jimin's hands fist Yoongi's shirt as he leans in closer, new to the feeling and loving every moment. He doesn't know how long they sit there, lips pressed together, but eventually Yoongi pulls back just enough to separate their lips.

“Breathe, Jimin,” he whispers and Jimin's eyes flutter a little as he releases the air in his lungs. Before Jimin has the chance to do anything else, Yoongi is angling his face up just a little and their lips meet once more.

This kiss is a little different, more firm but just as gentle. Yoongi is giving Jimin time to become familiar with his lips, familiar with the way they press together. This is all foreign to Jimin, new but incredibly exciting.

Then, Yoongi's lips part, just a little, enveloping Jimin's bottom lip between both of his own.

Jimin's lips part in surprise, but Yoongi caresses his thumb over Jimin's cheek. The motion relaxes him, easing whatever tension rests in his shoulders and he melts into Yoongi.

Yoongi moves his lips, slowly and gently but Jimin catches on quickly enough, joining in the rhythm that Yoongi sets. Never in his wildest dreams, would he have imagined kissing would feel like this; that it would take his breath away.

Just as he's growing accustomed to the slow movements of their lips, he feels a light touch of tongue. His lips tingle pleasantly, leaning into the touch and one of Jimin's small hands travel up Yoongi's chest to lightly touch his neck. Unsure of what else to do, Jimin parts his lips a little more, giving Yoongi more room.

Their lips part once more and Yoongi presses their foreheads together, “Is that okay?”

Jimin's eyes flutter open and their eyes meet. The fond look on Yoongi's face makes Jimin's heart beat faster, throat clenching. He doesn't know what to say, mind blank so he just leans forward, searching for more.

Yoongi huffs a small laugh before their lips meet again, comfortably falling into the familiar rhythm. The hand in Jimin's hair loops around Jimin's waist and brings him closer while the one on his cheeks remains there, caressing him slowly and coaxing a soft sigh past his lips. Jimin's hand trails up Yoongi's neck and brushes through his short hair, loving the way the undercut feels under his fingertips.

Yoongi licks into Jimin's mouth slowly, tentatively even, as if he thinks he's going to scare Jimin off. It's the opposite.

Jimin pulls Yoongi in closer and hums lowly as their tongues touch. It's weird if he thinks about it, but rather than thinking, he lets himself feel. He lets himself get lost in Yoongi, the gentle way they kiss that warms him head to toe.

Yoongi’s lips are addicting and Jimin lets himself fall into the offered warmth.

As they part, Jimin's giddy with the way Yoongi's breath comes a bit quicker, “Does it always feel like that?”

Yoongi chuckles lightly before pressing a short kiss to his nose, “No.”

Jimin can't control the smile that blooms on his face, much too happy. With his heart beating quickly in his chest, Jimin leans forward and steals another kiss.

He'd love to get used to this.

 

—  

 

They share many kisses after that, Jimin growing more and more comfortable. At first Yoongi waits for Jimin to ask, hesitant but after a while, he steals as many kisses as he can. It makes the affection in Jimin's chest grow with each satisfied smile.

Jimin asks for as many kisses as he can, but eventually he too steals kisses. He loves the way Yoongi's eyes widen at first but he never fails to relax, melting into their shared kisses.

It's thrilling to know that he has that power over Yoongi. As experienced as he is, Jimin is the one that makes Yoongi smile like that. Jimin is the one that leaves Yoongi breathless.

It’s a beautiful routine.

“Hurry up, hyung! The food is going to get cold!” It was Jimin’s turn to buy dinner and it’s his favorite. He’s not going to let it get cold. He’s going to eat with or without Yoongi.

He hears grumbling from the kitchen, and a moment later, a grumpy Yoongi is walking out with a mug of what Jimin assumes to be coffee. If there was one thing Jimin has learned about Yoongi, is that he’s always drinking coffee. No matter what time of day.

Jimin giggles as Yoongi settles and he pouts at Jimin, brow scrunching adorably. His piercings ruin the cute, innocent look, but Jimin’s much too fond of it to mention that. He waits until Yoongi takes a bite, eagerly watching until Yoongi makes a happy noise and Jimin digs right in.

The food is great, hitting Jimin’s craving perfectly and it’s honestly gone before he can even realize it. A content groan rumbles out of his chest and he leans back into the couch, feeling ready to explode with how much food he inhaled.

Half way through their movie, Jimin doesn’t know who leans in first, but they’re kissing. It’s nice, comfortable even though his neck is at an awkward angle. It’s a bit of a struggle, keeping the contact while he feels his neck cramp up. He fidgets around a little, not enough to dislodge them but also not enough to change the angle.

Shifting around, he throws a leg over Yoongi’s legs and settles in his lap comfortably but before he can lean down to resume their kiss, Yoongi leans away for a moment.

“Woah,” Yoongi breathes before resting his forehead on Jimin’s.

Jimin sits back up and tilts his head to the side, looking at Yoongi confused, “I just— s-sorry? Um, the angle was making my neck hurt a little? So I just wanted to rearrange?”

Yoongi’s eyes widen for a split second before he laughs softly and rests his head on Jimin’s shoulder. He’s more confused than ever but he smiles along with Yoongi anyway, his gummy smile impossible not to reciprocate.

Yoongi lifts his head after a moment, shaking his head before leaning up and pulling Jimin into a soft kiss. They’re brief chaste kisses that leave Jimin leaning in for more, following after Yoongi’s lips.

Jimin would be content to kiss Yoongi for the rest of the day if he could, easy and happy in his hold. Yoongi’s warm palms rest lightly around Jimin’s hips and his own hands tangle in Yoongi’s soft blond locks. Running his fingers through his hair as they kiss, Jimin enjoys the warmth building in his tummy, making him feel tingly all over.

These kisses are a bit different than those they’ve had before. It makes Jimin feel like squirming, like getting closer to Yoongi and being enveloped by his hands.

Heart pounding, Jimin pulls Yoongi closer, kissing him a little harder and faster. It feels amazing, their hot mouths working alongside each other, licking and teasing breathy noises past their lips. A mixture of excitement, happiness, and nerves brew in his gut, sending a jolt through his body and straight between his legs.

It’s so close to being too much.

Skin feeling suddenly too hot, too tight, Jimin pulls away from the kiss and hides his face in Yoongi’s neck. He’s never felt anything like this; no one has ever stirred such a blend of feelings in him before. Jimin takes deep breaths, trying to calm his twisting tummy and forces down the urge to pay attention to the hardness brewing in his pants. He can’t embarrass himself again.

Curling his arm around Yoongi’s neck, Jimin clings to Yoongi as he tries to calm down. Yoongi, the amazing person he is, caresses Jimin’s back as he makes soothing noises at the back of his throat.

“Are you okay, baby?” Yoongi whispers into Jimin’s hair. He can’t take his head out of Yoongi’s neck, not with the way the pet name makes him feel tingly all over, stirring the storm brewing under his skin.

“Jimin?” he calls again, this time a little louder with a twinge of worry.

Taking a final steadying breath, he sits up, still in Yoongi’s lap and awkwardly looks at his hands as they fall onto his lap, hiding his slight problem, “S-sorry, I just— I’m just, uh—” but no matter how he tries he can’t get the words out, too shy.

Jimin can’t believe this is happening, embarrassed beyond words.

It takes Yoongi a second, staring at Jimin in silence before his hands caress his back again and he makes a soft noise.

“Do you want me to take care of you?” Yoongi suggests softly, tone light and letting Jimin know that the ball is in his court— he gets to make that choice.

Jimin wishes the answer would be easy. He wants to feel good and has absolutely no doubt that Yoongi would make him feel amazing, but he feels shy about it. Unsure of what else to do, he hides his brightly blushing face back in Yoongi’s neck. But this time, he scoots closer, pressing himself tightly to Yoongi’s front.

An involuntary shiver wracks through him as he feels a slight friction over his crotch and he bites down on his bottom lip to keep a whine down. He wants so much, he wants Yoongi to show him everything there is to know about this kind of stuff.

Yoongi’s hands rub at his back a little before they settle at Jimin’s hips, a gentle barely there pressure, “I’m just going to rock us together slowly. Let me know if you want to stop?”

But he doesn’t do anything, not even when Jimin nods his head.

“Baby? I need you to use your words,” Yoongi coaxes gently.

Jimin sighs before uttering a quick, “Okay.”

His words must be enough. It’s slow at first, but Yoongi starts to rock them together, guiding Jimin’s hips along with his own. Pure heat pools in his lap, making him twitch in his pants and harden further.

Jimin does his best to follow the rhythm, rolling his hips in time with Yoongi’s and with each movement, he feels hotter. The friction feels amazing, just what he needs to turn him into putty in Yoongi’s lap. Jimin’s arms tighten around Yoongi’s neck, threading through the hair at his nape, and he can’t help but just pant wetly.

Squeezing his eyes shut, soft noises leave his lips, noises he’s never heard before but he can’t keep them in.

“That’s it,” Yoongi whispers, kissing whatever skin he can reach, “You’re doing really well. Does that feel good? Do you feel how good you make me feel?”

Yoongi’s compliments, his pretty words make the knot coiling in his gut tighten. He can feel Yoongi’s hardness against him, pressing into his butt and it’s a heady feeling, knowing that Jimin made him feel that good. It feels good though, having the pressure on his butt as his front rubs onto Yoongi’s tummy. Even if it is a bit dry, It makes Jimin feel really good.

Yoongi says a lot of things, some coherent some just noises, but with each pretty word Jimin feels frantic and needy for more. It all feels so good, hot and tingly all over.

He doesn’t realize what’s coming until his hips start to move harder, faster without his permission and Yoongi just lets him, “There you go. Just like that. Come for me, pretty baby.”

His world whites out, hips stuttering as he loses control of what’s happening. He pants a short, high pitched, staccato chant of ‘Oh,’s as he lets wave after wave of pleasure course through him, clutching onto Yoongi desperately as he fights to cling onto reality.

“That’s it, that’s my good boy,” Yoongi rasps, voice low as his grip tightens on Jimin’s hips as they slow, working him through his orgasm. He trembles slightly on Yoongi’s lap, doing his best to follow until it’s too much, too sensitive.

Jimin takes a moment to gather himself, get his heart back to a normal pace as he comes down from the incredible high.

He wants Yoongi to feel that good too, wants Yoongi to come too.

Not really sure of what to do, he lets instinct lead him, pressing soft kisses to Yoongi’s neck. Yoongi tightens his hold on Jimin’s hip but doesn’t say anything, opting to lean his head to the side and allowing Jimin more room.

Jimin explores the pale skin with his mouth, licking and sucking his way all over the offered skin, making sure to pay extra attention to the spots that draw delicious groans out of Yoongi’s lips. He keeps a slow tempo, rocking his hips the same way he did before, pressing down into Yoongi’s hardness as he goes.

Yoongi seems to be enjoying it, based of the sounds he makes, until Jimin softly says, “I want hyung to feel good too. What can I do to make you feel good?”

“Oh fuck—” is all that comes out of Yoongi’s lips, cut off with a loud groan as he presses them together tightly. Hips jerking up into Jimin a couple of times, drawing out soft whines from Jimin’s lips and Yoongi goes limp a few moments after, panting into Jimin’s neck.

Jimin runs his hands through Yoongi’s neck, dropping kisses to the side of his head and whatever skin he can reach, all too happy with the developments. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget what it feels like, to have Yoongi hold him so tightly and so needy to get his pleasure. Jimin wants to be responsible for Yoongi’s pleasure, wants to make him happy, please him, and make him feel good.

They sit there, basking in their happiness, holding each other. Jimin can’t wipe the happy, and slightly satisfied, smile off his face. He doesn’t want to move, he wants to stay in Yoongi’s embrace as long as he can. Yoongi nuzzles into Jimin’s neck, dropping butterfly kisses onto the skin.

It’s not until Yoongi shifts below him, face scrunching up as he goes, that they move.

“Jimin, we need to shower,” he urges, nudging Jimin’s face with his nose, causing a happy giggle to erupt from his lips.

Jimin pouts even though he knows Yoongi’s right. He can already feel the come drying in his pants, making him feel very uncomfortable. But he doesn’t want to break the bubble they have around them.

A moment or two later, after a lot of poking and prodding, Jimin ends up standing.

“Do you want me to help you or…?” Yoongi offers, pointing down at Jimin’s pants so that he knows what Yoongi’s talking about.

A hot blush explodes on Jimin’s face and he shakes his head. He’s not ready for that, to have someone see him completely naked. He probably shouldn’t be shy, not with what they just did, but well, he is.

Jimin just smiles and waves Yoongi off, insisting on an individual shower.

That night, Jimin lets himself be led into Yoongi’s bedroom, and for the first time, Jimin has the intention of falling asleep in Yoongi’s apartment.

 

 

Things progress slowly. Yoongi remains careful with Jimin making sure that he’s okay all the time and making the butterflies in Jimin’s tummy flutter with each gentle question.

The chaste kisses they shared get a little less chaste and a lot more exploring. Jimin learns how to kiss Yoongi the way he likes it, with a little teeth and soothing tongue. He has as much of a habit of playing with his lips piercing as Yoongi does, always playing with it before diving into the kiss itself.

Yoongi in turn, plays with Jimin’s hair, caressing and scratching deliciously, turning Jimin into a tingly mess. He loves it all; loves the attention Yoongi gives him, the caresses and praises that never fail to make him blush. Yoongi has a way of making him feel like he’s on fire, like he’s going to combust from the inside out.

It all seems to culminate in a morning, several weeks after their stint on the couch.

Jimin wakes up in Yoongi’s bed, hard. Not that it doesn’t happen, obviously it has, but it’s never happened with someone else in the bed.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tries to calm his breathing, doing his best not to make a big deal out of it. He’s fine, it’s natural. It’ll go away. The longer he lays on his bed, he feels more in control, less hot and tingly. He plans on staying as still as possible, bidding his time until he feels comfortable enough to go to the bathroom, while at the same time doing his best not to wake Yoongi up.

Just as he thinks it’s all going well, Yoongi turns in his sleep, throwing an arm over Jimin’s side and pressing them flush together, back to front.

Jimin forces himself to breathe past the realization that Yoongi’s hard too.

He feels himself twitch in his undies, a wetness pooling at his tip and the shy embarrassment returns full force, making his face burn. Yoongi’s cock fits right up against Jimin’s thighs, hot and hard, making Jimin want to twitch his hips back and feel more.

Jimin doesn’t know what to do. It feels nice, it feels really good actually, but oh god, he’s never done this before. This is a little like— like sex.

Jimin does his best not to freak out, silently talking himself through what’s happening until Yoongi disrupts his thoughts with a soft, breathy moan. With his lips against Jimin’s neck, Jimin can feel the small puffs of air coming out of Yoongi’s neck, making his golden skin erupt in goosebumps and make his neck feel hypersensitive.

Yoongi’s hips don’t stay still after that moan, twitching up a little in his sleep and heat shoots through Jimin, curling his toes and he has to bite his bottom lip to stop the whine from leaving his lips. Oh god, he wants Yoongi to do that again.

“Y-Yoongi,” he calls out softly, unable to handle the silence anymore. Naturally, Yoongi doesn’t wake up, instead, his arm tightens around Jimin’s waist and he nuzzles into Jimin’s neck.

JImin would feel a lot more fond if he wasn’t so hard and needy.

“Yoongi,” he tries again, a little louder this time, but still nothing.

Sighing, Jimin shakes his head and reaches back to touch Yoongi’s side while calling out his name a third time. It works. He hears a sleepy and disoriented groan from behind him for a moment before Yoongi curls deeper into Jimin before he freezes.

Yoongi pulls back immediately, a stream of apologies leaving his lips as he tries to put space between them but Jimin doesn’t let him. He keeps a firm grip on Yoongi’s wrist, he pulls the elder closer.

“Do it again...you— it—” but he doesn't know how to say it, how to ask for what he wants. So instead, he really gently moves his hips back into Yoongi, hoping he understands what Jimin is trying to ask for.

A low groan rasps out of Yoongi’s lips and he tangles their fingers together, squeezing their hands. “I need you to use your words, baby,” he breathes, forehead pressed against Jimin’s shoulder.

Face burning, Jimin squeezes his eyes shut, “J-just like this,” he breathes, twitching his hips back just a little again, “Please, hyung.”

He feels Yoongi nod behind him before he’s pulled further back into Yoongi, enveloped by his warmth, his scent. Yoongi grabs Jimin’s hip and slowly moves them together.

Oh,” he whines, mouth dropping open in surprise by how good it feels, to have Yoongi rub up against him, slowly. Jimin never thought that people would like this, that he’d like having someone grinding against him through such thin layers of clothes, but it sends sparks through his whole body.

It’s good, it’s really really good and Jimin covers his mouth to keep the noises in. Small, breathy whines leave his lips involuntarily and Yoongi seems to thrive off them, moaning into Jimin’s neck with every short thrust of their hips.

Jimin’s eyes shoot open when Yoongi stops, afraid he’s going to stop, but he doesn’t have time to ask.

“Can I take your undies off?” Yoongi asks, rubbing the material at Jimin’s hips, “I don’t want you to chafe.”

Jimin was doing a good job of ignoring the way that the material was rubbing against him uncomfortably, but with Yoongi’s words, he’s reminded. He wants to take them off, not just to make it more comfortable, but so that he can feel Yoongi’s hot skin on his own. He wants Yoongi to touch his skin.

Jerking a small nod, Yoongi drops a small kiss to Jimin’s shoulder before divesting them both of their underwear. Jimin’s blush comes back full force, shy to be naked from the bottom half, but it helps that Yoongi is behind him, spooning him and making it impossible for him to see Jimin’s face.

“Shit, your thighs baby, so soft.” Yoongi moans, pressing them together again. Jimin can feel Yoongi, hot behind him and it feels incredibly good. The soft material of their shirts rub over his back as they rearrange.

“Lift your thigh, Jiminie, just a little bit,” Yoongi instructs. Hesitantly, Jimin does just as Yoongi thrusts his hips into the small space Jimin’s created and draws a loud groan from them both. Jimin relaxes his leg, trapping Yoongi between his legs, streaking his thighs with Yoongi’s precome, and making the slide so much better.

Yoongi’s dick fits perfectly between Jimin’s thighs, rubbing up against his balls and cock with each rock of their hips, “Is that good, baby?”, teasing at his entrance just a little and Jimin’s brain blanks out for a moment, pleasure overriding any other thought.

“Hm? Do you like that baby?” Yoongi whispers again.

Jimin nods his head and swallows before opening his mouth, “Y-yes, it feels, ah, really good. So good—” his voice breaks into a whine as Yoongi’s hips snap forward and holds Jimin tightly to him.

Yoongi stops abruptly and this time Jimin does whine in complaint, loud and needy, but Yoongi calms him down with a soft shushing noise. He reaches back and Jimin hears some rustling before Yoongi returns. Just as Jimin is about to ask what Yoongi did, he feels a wet hand between his thighs, caressing the skin.

“It’ll make sure I don’t hurt you,” he explains. His touch lingers, rubbing Jimin’s skin and making him fidget, wanting more.

When he slips back in, the glide is so much better, slick and hot, Jimin rolls his hips back and nearly sobs with how good it feels.

“Just like that baby,” Yoongi groans, moving to the pace Jimin’s hips set, “So beautiful— fuck, you’re so good for me, baby boy.”

Jimin keens, head pressing back into Yoongi and lacing their fingers together. Yoongi’s arms wrap around Jimin’s middle, holding them together and making the power behind their grinding so much stronger.

Hyung,” he whines as his hardness twitches while Yoongi’s dick rubs against Jimin’s balls and sparks rush through him, pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

Yoongi’s grip tightens and his hips stutter, “The things I wanna do to you Jimin— shit. Damn your thighs .. oh god baby, they’re so amazing. I’ll fuck them so good you’ll remember it all day tomorrow. You’ll feel me at work, oh—

Jimin wants. He wants to feel Yoongi between his thighs. He wants to remember this for the rest of the day, and even though he’s convinced he’s never going to forget such an amazing moment, he wants proof on his skin, wants to wear it proudly for all to see.

“I-I want it hyung. I, oh, I want to feel it. Please make me feel it,” he babbles, craning his neck back and offer it up, “Please.”

Yoongi bites into Jimin’s neck, fucking into Jimin’s thighs relentlessly. It makes Jimin’s brain feel foggy, clouded with arousal. The room is silent aside from the wet sounds of Yoongi’s hips smacking against Jimin’s thighs, his ass, as Yoongi works them both until they’re aching, hard and leaking all over getting Jimin all messy. Jimin loves it, loves how he can feel Yoongi’s desperation and need, but also the intimacy of their moment.

He feels connected to Yoongi in a way that he hasn’t before. Laying there, letting Yoongi use him and give them both pleasure, it’s a heady feeling. Yoongi fucks Jimin’s thighs until they’re both coming just from that, panting and making the room smell like sex.

Jimin’s covered in come, his own and Yoongi’s and he positively preens with how good it feels, how satisfaction courses through his being with each wave of pleasure. Yoongi pants into his neck, kissing it sporadically before stilling, caressing his messy tummy and making happy noises.

“How was that?” Yoongi asks after a moment, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

Jimin smiles and cuddles back into Yoongi, “Really good, thank you, hyung.”

 

 

They cuddle the rest of the day, filled with soft kisses and gentle nuzzling.

“I really like you, hyung,” Jimin whispers softly, keeping his head in Yoongi’s neck shyly, blushing at his admission.

Yoongi kisses Jimin’s hair and pulls him in tighter, “I really like you too, Jiminie. I really really really like you.”

 

 

He starts thinking about it, about going all the way with Yoongi. He knows he wants to, he does, but he has no idea how to voice his thoughts, too shy and embarrassed even though he’s almost positive Yoongi wants to too.

It brews in his mind for so long, that Jimin ends up blurting it out in the middle of nowhere, surprising Yoongi so much he drops the plate in his hand and it shatters all over the floor.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” Jimin rushes forward, grabbing the dustpan and helping Yoongi clean it up.

Jimin worried for a minute, how frozen Yoongi seems to be, staring at nothing before he shakes himself out of it and looks over at Jimin, “Wait, Seriously?”

Jimin laughs before looking up at Yoongi, “Yeah?” but then he blushes before standing and kissing Yoongi’s cheek, “I want to— you know, go all the way. With you.”

The bewildered smile on Yoongi’s face makes Jimin smile, happy that Yoongi looks surprised but also happy. The gummy smile that blooms on his face tells Jimin all he needs to know. Too excited to wait, he grabs Yoongi’s hand and leads him to the bedroom.

Slowly, he runs his hands over Yoongi’s body, pressing chaste kisses to his face and his neck as he goes. It takes Yoongi a moment, but eventually he joins in and they slowly undress each other.

Jimin blushes, bright and hard but Yoongi does his best to calm his nerves, “You’re beautiful baby. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he reassures as he presses kisses to Jimin’s chest, his shoulders, his tummy and further down as he takes unbuttons Jimin’s pants.

Yoongi falls to his knees, keeping his eyes on Jimin’s as he strokes his thighs.

“Let me know if at any point, you want to stop. Okay, baby?”

Jimin nods his head and whispers a soft ‘okay’ before Yoongi is taking Jimin in his mouth. It feels like Yoongi is sucking the air out of his lungs through his cock. Warm, wet heat engulfs him and an embarrassing keen slips through his lips as his fingers lace into Yoongi’s hair. The metal of Yoongi’s lip ring feels different, colder, but he can barely focus on that with the way Yoongi’s tongue works his cock, lickign and sucking it expertly.

He hardens in Yoongi’s mouth, faster than ever and Jimin can’t help the way his hips twitch up into the warmth, wanting more of that delicious feeling.

Yoongi pulls off and Jimin’s about to apologize but he’s too mesmerized with how amazing Yoongi looks to speak. Lips spit slick and eyes blown out, he looks like sin embodied. Jimin feels beyond lucky to have this boy.

“You can fuck my mouth, if you want,” Yoongi rasps, licking his lips and looking at Jimin.

He hears the words, but Jimin can’t make sense of them, at least not before Yoongi smirks and licks a fat line up his aching cock, “Wha—” Jimin tries to speak but his words cut off into a loud groan as Yoongi sucks him back in and blows his mind away.

Remembering Yoongi’s rough words, Jimin’s hands clench in Yoongi’s hair for a moment before relaxing and slowly, ever so lightly, rocks into Yoongi’s welcoming mouth. It takes him a minute to get comfortable, to be sure that Yoongi’s okay but with each thrust he gets more comfortable, more confident that Yoongi’s enjoying this as much as Jimin is.

Yoongi’s mouth relaxes around him, sucking him down until Jimin’s touching the back of his throat. A loud whine rips itself out of Jimin’s throat as Yoongi does something with his tongue that pushes him over.

He barely manages to tug at Yoongi’s hair, hopefully communicating that he’s about to come. Yoongi doesn’t pull off, in fact, he squeezes Jimin’s cheeks together and rubbing the pad of his finger over Jimin’s entrance and he comes.

Yoongi,” Jimin cries out, curling forward and holding Yoongi’s hair impossibly tight as the elder continues to suck him down, working him through his orgasm, humming as he does so.

Yoongi swallows down everything until Jimin is oversensitive and whining. He pops off and licks his lips before standing and looking at Jimin with a lewd smile. Overwhelmed with how happy, how good he feels, Jimin pulls Yoongi into a kiss, deep and yearning.

He can taste a tang on Yoongi’s lips that wasn't there before, and Jimin assumes that’s him. Oh god, he can taste himself on Yoongi’s lips, all over his mouth. The knowledge makes Jimin itch to know what Yoongi tastes like. It’s not the best flavor in the world, but Jimin doesn’t mind it. Something in his gut tells him Yoongi would be better.

They kiss for a while, enjoying the slick dance their lips fall into, teasing with tongue and a hint of teeth before Yoongi’s rubbing Jimin’s sides and turning them.

Yoongi rearranges them on the bed, pulling Jimin onto his lap and kissing him deeply. Keeping one hand around his neck, Jimin leans in, giving his all into the single kiss, hoping more than anything that Yoongi understands what he means, all that he’s trying to say through the kiss.

Jimin loses himself in the kiss, running his hands all over Yoongi’s body while he feels Yoongi do the same. Warm hands rub over Jimin’s thighs, squeezing a little before caressing his cheeks. Jimin squirms a little, liking the way Yoongi’s hands feel but remembering the way Yoongi’s finger felt touching him in his most intimate spot— he wants more.

“Is it okay if I touch you here?” Yoongi breathes in between kisses, a finger tracing in between Jimin’s cheeks feather light.

Jimin pulls away from the kiss for a moment before nodding his head, “Yeah.”

Yoongi pulls out a bottle from somewhere and coats his fingers with it before returning to Jimin’s entrance.

It’s a slow process, the way Yoongi fingers Jimin open. Jimin keeps his face buried in Yoongi’s neck, breathing through the strange sensation and forcing himself to relax. He feels vulnerable, open and exposed but with Yoongi there, with Yoongi telling him how pretty he looks, how excited he is to be inside Jimin, he feels better.

There’s no one else he’d rather do something like this with.

Three fingers deep, Yoongi caresses his walls and Jimin arches up, keening loudly and fucking himself down on Yoongi’s long fingers, “Oh, hyung, right there. Oh my— that’s so— keep going, please hyung.”

Yoongi’s arms tighten around him and he takes a shuddering breath before caressing the spot, over and over until Jimin’s practically shaking in his lap, “Such a good boy for me, you take me so well. Are you ready?”

Jimin wants it, he wants more, wants to feel Yoongi deep in his being. He wants to lose himself in the feeling, the deep desire and pleasure that Yoongi always gives him.

“Yes, please,” he whispers, clutching Yoongi tightly and sighing as Yoongi’s fingers leave him empty. He hates it, hates the way it feels but he doesn’t have to wait before he feels Yoongi’s wet cock press up against his entrance.

“Go ahead baby, take it at whatever pace you want.”

Jimin raises up a little, to look Yoongi in the face. They share a look, warm and intimate before Jimn drops a wet kiss on his puffy lips before he takes a deep breath and sinks down.

It’s different, thicker and makes him feel so much more full, but it doesn’t hurt. He was ready for it to hurt, for it to not feel so good before it feels better, but honestly, all he feels is a slight hint of discomfort. There’s pressure, he feels full, but it’s amazing. Knowing that it’s Yoongi, that he’s taking Yoongi in slowly and Yoongi is letting him, makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside.

They both sigh as Jimin sinks down all the way, pressing his ass against Yoongi’s thighs. Jimin rests his forehead against Yoongi’s for a moment, just enough to gather enough strength to move.

“Oh fuck,” Yoongi groans as Jimin sits up and sinks back down, taking Yoongi in deeper. It feels unlike anything before, pleasure and pain mix together as he finds a rhythm, slow and steady as he lets himself go.

It doesn’t take long for his thighs to start shaking and Jimin whines a little, wiggling around in the hopes of easing the burn.

“Here, let me,” and Yoongi surges up, tipping them over onto Jimin’s back and throwing his legs over Yoongi’s shoulders.

Yoongi gives him a hot look, intense and Jimin practically melts as Yoongi starts thrusting, hard and fast into his welcoming body.

“Oh my— please, more that’s— so good,” Jimin squeezes his eyes shut and fists the sheets under his palms, taking everything Yoongi’s giving him, letting himself ride each wave of pleasure as Yoongi plows into his body.

The loud sound of their smacking skin rings loudly in the small room, but Jimin can’t be bothered to care. It feels too good to be embarrassed, too far gone to think about who could hear him.

“Fuck, so good, god Jimin you’re perfect,” Yoongi groans, rhythm faltering as he falls forward onto his forearms. Jimin wraps his legs around Yoongi’s hips and threads his fingers through his hair.

“I— Fuck, it’s never felt this good,” Yoongi babbles, pressing kisses into Jimin’s neck, “It’s never going to be as good as you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Jimin’s heart clenches painfully, feeling too much affection in his core, tummy twisting and churning as Yoongi buries himself in Jimin. Not being able to say anything, Jimin pulls Yoongi into a kiss, deep and messy but it works. It gives his mouth the outlet it needs.

Yoongi’s pace falters, hips stuttering as he groans something into Jimin’s mouth before taking a hold of Jimin’s aching cock and stroking. He doesn't know when he got hard again, he doesn’t know if it was when Yoongi fingered him open or if it happened somewhere in between the act itself, but all he does know is that he’s close. He’s close to coming, all over again.

With each stroke timed perfectly with Yoongi’s thrusts, Jimin doesn’t know if he wants to rock back or forward, overwhelmed and loving each moment. The familiar heat coils in his gut, tightening similarly to the way his heart does, both so full and so ready to explode he almost doesn’t realize what he’s feeling.

He feels loved.

His body goes taut, Yoongi’s hard thrusts pushing him over the edge and ushering in wave after wave of intense heat. He vaguely hears his voice screaming something, probably Yoongi’s name as he lets go, riding his feelings the high that Yoongi gives him each, and every time.

He barely manages to hear the way Yoongi chants his name, “Jimin” over and over again like a prayer before he’s being filled with a warm sensation and Yoongi is crying out a guttural sound.

They can’t do anything but pant, Jimin loving the way Yoongi’s body is like putty above his own, pressing him down and grounding him in what they did. It might be cheesy, he might be naive, but Jimin can’t bring himself to use another phrase besides “made love”.

They made love.

Jimin,” Yoongi whispers, pressing kiss after kiss all over his collarbone before making his way up and kissing his soft lips.

It’s quiet for a while. Jimin feels like he’s glowing, he wants to shout it out to the world, but he’s content to lay with Yoongi. He’s happy to keep holding each other as the night sky twinkles out. They’re in their own world, Jimin doesn’t need anything else, in that moment, besides the happiness that Yoongi makes him feel.

“What happens next?” Jimin asks, running his hand over Yoongi’s sides.

Yoongi sighs happily before nuzzling Jimin’s shoulder and propping himself up, “Well, normally I’d clean you up but, can I— ” Yoongi looks around and Jimin can see the blush on his face, “How do I say this without sounding weird? Um, Can I stay? In you, I mean?”

Jimin looks at Yoongi confused, not quite sure what he’s referring to, “I don’t understand.”

Yoongi sighs before rearranging them onto their sides, “I like how you feel around me and uh, I really don’t want to pull out…”

He looks at Jimin meaningfully and for a moment Jimin still doesn’t understand before an idea pops up. He means literally inside. He doesn’t want to leave Jimin empty.

Oh, he’s so gone for this boy.

Giggling, Jimin leans forward and kisses Yoongi, chaste and gentle, “Yeah, okay. I like the way you feel in me anyway.”

Yoongi chuckles before getting comfortable, pulling Jimin in and wrapping his arms around him, “I’m glad you like it, baby.”

 

 

Jimin finally has the courage to confess, running up behind Yoongi and whispering it in his ear before running off and hiding.

Yoongi finds him not much later.

“I love you too.”

 

 

“Jimin, you should just move in with me. There’s no point for you to be paying for a space you’re barely in.”

“But hyung, is there even enough room?”

There isn’t enough room, but he moves in anyway.

It’s a little cramped, but it feels like home. He moved to the city, hoping to start a new life, to finally feel like he belongs, and he found it. He found it all in Yoongi.

 

 

“Mom, I know I haven’t called since I left but I just wanted to let you know I’m doing well. I’m doing really well actually,” he takes a really long moment, looking at Yoongi sleeping at his side and smiles, “I have a boyfriend now and I really love him. I wish you would meet him, but I know you won’t. I just wanted you to know that I’m really happy here, so don’t worry.”

He shuts his phone off as soon as he’s done leaving his parents a message, getting comfortable in bed.

He didn’t see the bright smile on Yoongi’s face or the twinkle in his eyes.

 

 

“Yoongi, you have to throw the couch away. We’re not moving into a new apartment with it.”

Yoongi looks between the couch and Jimin, looking ridiculously torn, “But Jimin—”

Jimin sighs, exasperated, “Yoongi. It’s old and ratty. We can get a new one.”

Yoongi looks at it forlorn, caressing it gently, “It saw all of our important milestones. We’ve done everything on this couch. I feel bad leaving it behind. He’s the third person in this relationship.”

“It’s okay, we’ll get a new couch. Make new memories.”

“Yeah?”

“I promise, Yoongi.”


They do.

 

— End.