Hoseok greeted Yoongi loud enough to be heard over the music. His mouth was spread wide in a shit eating grin, just past tipsy and knowing him and the glazed over look in his eyes, probably high. Next to where Yoongi stood in the corner, leaning against the wall, Jin sat in an old and weathered loveseat with his boyfriend in his lap. Jin had his arms wrapped loosely around him and if Yoongi remembered correctly the kid’s name was Jungkook. Yoongi’s seen more and more of the kid recently because of Jin to the point that they’ve developed an odd, sort of noncommittal friendship.
By the looks of it he seemed to already know Hoseok by the familiarity in which Jungkook greeted him.
“Bit of a bust, huh?” Hoseok smirked.
Yoongi grunted in agreement, the music was poor in taste and the beer was cheap, tasted twice as bad as it smelled. For the life of him Yoongi couldn’t find a reason to stay.
“You’d think a frat party would be better than this,” Jin commented with a small laugh.
Yoongi, although he hated most frats and the type of people with alpha male complexes that normally joined them, knew that frat parties tended to be the best ones to attend. Yoongi was used to an endless supply of alcohol and decent beer, music that could be felt in his bones, and a bedroom that reeked of weed in which people came and went. The mornings that followed were always accompanied by a pounding headache and endless cups of coffee. Sometimes he’d even wake up next to a naked body before he’d force them out so he could sleep soundly in his own bed, or he’d quietly get dressed and sneak out without so much as a word to them.
Tonight, however, was a complete bust.
As Hoseok and Jungkook got into a discussion over some new album drop of an artist Yoongi had no interest in, he pushed himself off the wall, “I’ll be back, I’m getting another beer.”
He made his way past the crowd of drunk students dancing sloppily in the middle of the living room towards the direction of the kitchen where Yoongi knew the cheap beer and shitty tequila was. If he had to endure some poor excuse for a frat party he at least wanted to be drunk. He’d prefer to be high but the blunts that had been passed around earlier were poorly rolled and the weed was not up to par with what Yoongi normally smoked.
Call him pretentious but Yoongi didn’t waste time or money on shitty weed.
The kitchen was crowded but less so than the living room where obnoxious music and loud talking could still be heard. The kitchen, much like the rest of the frat house, was trashed with red cups lying about, half empty beer cans forgotten on every surface, making them sticky and reek with the stench of alcohol. There was a rowdy game of beer pong going on at the dining room table that had been shoved against the far wall to make room for a keg. Yoongi’s eyes scanned over the counter as he debated if he wanted to take a chance on the tequila. After silently weighing his options Yoongi ultimately decided against it in favor of the cheap beer.
He elbowed his way past people over to the keg, seemingly forgotten about in exchange for the intense game going on, to fill his own solo cup. Yoongi decidedly ignored the drunken babble of those around him and idly wondered how long he wanted to stay.
“Hey, do you mind filling me up?” A voice thick with a Busan accent asked from next to Yoongi.
He nearly sputtered at the words before he realized that the stranger was talking about the keg, he hadn’t even noticed that someone had walked up to him until they spoke. When Yoongi turned to look at the person he completely forgot what they had said. The stranger gave him a quizzical look, his eyes rimmed in dark eyeshadow and liner, a loose fitting white tee hung off of him, exposed the tan of his skin and his collar bones. Yoongi thought he looked vaguely familiar--maybe they had passed one another on campus or had run into each other at another party, but a part of Yoongi wondered if that was the case then how come he never made a move on him. He certainly looked like Yoongi’s type, even if he looked younger due to the roundness of his cheeks.
Yoongi swallowed thickly. He wouldn’t mind spending a night alone with the stranger on top of him. Or underneath him. Yoongi wasn’t that picky.
“Are you going to keep staring or can I get some beer?” The stranger teased, a smirk played at his lips.
Yoongi hid his embarrassment by casting his gaze downwards as he filled the stranger’s cup.
“Thanks,” the stranger said before he knocked back a mouthful as Yoongi watched him from over the edge of his own cup. Even the way his adam's apple bobbed and a bit of beer ran down his chin was absurdly attractive to Yoongi.
The stranger grimaced and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, “Man, that tastes like piss.”
Yoongi cocked an eyebrow, “It’s a little concerning that you know what piss tastes like.”
The stranger threw his head back with a loud, melodic laugh that Yoongi decided on the spot that he wanted to hear more of.
“It’s an educated guess,” the stranger replied, still smiling. Yoongi noted that his eyes curved upwards and smiled with him too. How endearing. The smile was short lived when the stranger’s eyes fell on something over Yoongi’s shoulder that made his face fall.
“Can you do me a favor?” He asked suddenly.
Yoongi knew he should’ve said no, knew that normally would have, but “no” sounded an awful lot like “sure” when it fell from his lips as he watched the stranger run his hand through his black hair. The way he looked with his hair pushed back and a small smile forming on his plump lips caused by Yoongi’s consent made him look even more attractive.
Yoongi had a bad feeling.
It, however, was forgotten the moment there were soft lips pressed against his.
Maybe he should’ve pulled back or pushed the kid away but how inviting and persistent his lips were had Yoongi’s resolve crumbling in an instant and kissing back with as much fervor as he was being given.
Yoongi felt a small, warm hand wrap around the back of his neck and found that he moved without so much as a second thought, his arm wrapped around the stranger’s small waist and brought him closer. His lips tasted like cheap beer but Yoongi couldn’t be bothered to care with the way that the stranger nipped at Yoongi’s bottom lip and gently tugged on the hair at the nape of his neck. The party and the world around them melted away until the only thing Yoongi could focus on were the lips on his, the hand on the back of his neck and warmth pressed up against him.
The kid’s lips moved fluidly against Yoongi’s, encouraged Yoongi to be a little more daring, to grip tightly at his waist and kiss the stranger until his lungs screamed for air.
As suddenly as it had began, it ended. Yoongi chastised himself for chasing after the lips when the stranger chuckled. Yoongi opened his eyes to see a small flush on the other’s cheeks that somehow made him look cute, despite how hot Yoongi had found him just moments ago as the stranger took the lead in their kiss.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” he said as his hand fell away from Yoongi’s neck and he took a step back, the warmth that had been pressed against Yoongi suddenly gone. He would never admit to wanting to pull the stranger back in again.
“I saw someone that’s been pursuing me relentlessly and won’t take no for an answer,” he explained.
“So you thought if he saw you making out with me he’d finally take a hint?” Yoongi took a sip from his beer just to busy himself with something instead of reaching out and pulling the stranger into another searing kiss.
The stranger nodded, “Right.”
“Well, did it work?”
The stranger looked back over Yoongi’s shoulder and scanned the crowd around them that seemed to have ignored the two making out right next to the keg.
“It looks that way, yeah,” he smiled at Yoongi.
Before Yoongi could say anything else, maybe ask if he wanted to get out of there, an energetic ball of a drunken mess threw their arms around the guy. Immediately the stranger wrapped an arm around the newcomer’s waist to help them stand up straight.
“Man, this party sucks,” they said, words slightly slurred, completely ignoring Yoongi, “Let’s get out of here, Chims.”
Yoongi felt awkward as he watched the two, obviously familiar and comfortable enough with each other for easy, intimate affection. The stranger laughed and now Yoongi was certain that he wanted to hear more of it.
“Guess I’ll see you around,” he said flippantly, as if it were a half-hearted promise. Yoongi hoped that he would see the stranger again. Soon. As he watched the pair retreat to the nearest exit, stumbling and laughing, Yoongi realized he hadn’t even gotten the guy’s name but he did know that he wanted those lips pressed against his again.
As luck would have it, Yoongi didn’t see Jimin around at all. He wouldn’t admit to keeping an eye out for the strange kid he had met as he crossed campus or navigated his way through the halls to his next class. He was half tempted to ask Hoseok if he knew the kid, because Hoseok somehow knew everybody, but decided against it at the prospect of being on the receiving end of relentless teasing.
Three weeks after Yoongi had the pleasure of getting acquainted with the stranger, or rather his lips, Yoongi ran into him again at another party.
He’d just left Namjoon in the kitchen, flirting with an underclassman with a boxy smile and familiar face. With a beer can in one hand Yoongi made his way past loud conversations and a game of flip cup to the back door.
As soon as he stepped outside the first thing Yoongi noticed was the distinct smell of weed. It was significantly less crowded out on the grassy lawn, and as Yoongi’s eyes adjusted to the dim light they fell on Hoseok, sitting in an old and tattered plastic lawn chair. Yoongi noted there was someone next to Hoseok, slouched down in his own chair as the two of them shared a blunt, his back to Yoongi.
“Yoongi!” Hoseok called out as soon as he saw him.
As he strolled out across the lawn to the lawn Yoongi replied, “That’s hyung to you.”
Hoseok gave him a shrug, “Are you really going to be that particular about honorifics when I’m about to offer you a hit off this blunt?”
He offered it up to Yoongi as soon as he reached them.
“Nope,” Yoongi shook his head, took the blunt from Hoseok and took a slow, long drag. He held it in for a moment then exhaled, the smoke lifted up into the night air and slowly dissipated.
“Fuck, that’s good,” he handed the blunt back to Hoseok who gave him a cheeky grin.
“Right? It’s a little more expensive than what I’ve been buying but fuck, it’s worth it. Take a seat, smoke with us,” Hoseok motioned to one of the other empty lawn chairs that sat across from the two of them.
As Yoongi took a seat, adjusted himself until he was comfortable, Hoseok introduced him to the person sitting on his other side.
“This is Jimin-ah, he’s part of the dance troupe,” Hoseok took a hit off the blunt and passed it to the person he’d just introduced.
In the low light given by the moon and the lamp post next to the house, Yoongi could make out only a few features of the stranger’s face. The most prominent of all were his plump lips that instantly brought Yoongi back to three weeks ago, when they had been pressed against his.
“Hoseok said your name is Yoongi, right?”
Even though their conversation at the time had been brief, Yoongi knew there was no mistaking that voice, deep and heavy with an accent.
“Yeah,” Yoongi carefully watched the way Jimin’s lips pursed around the blunt just before he inhaled. He slowly exhaled the smoke with a pout that had Yoongi’s eyes glued to his lips.
“And Hoseok-ah may be lax with the honorifics but I’m your hyung,” Yoongi said.
Jimin snorted, “Whatever you say, Yoongi-hyung .”
As Hoseok made no attempt to hide his laughter at Jimin’s taunting and mockery, Yoongi ran his tongue over his teeth and sat back in his chair. Jimin offered the blunt to him with a smirk but when Yoongi went to take it from his noticeable small fingers, Jimin pulled his hand away.
Even in the dim moonlight Yoongi could see the mischievous glint in Jimin’s eyes.
Yoongi had a bad feeling.
“Want to shotgun?”
Jimin was certainly going to be the death of Yoongi.
But Yoongi had nothing to lose, especially when someone as attractive as Jimin was asking him to shotgun, and maybe he just wanted those lips closer to his so Yoongi kept his composure and gave him a nonchalant shrug in the hopes that he didn’t seem as eager as he felt.
Jimin brought the blunt back to his lips and inhaled.
Now, however, as Jimin sat forward to close the distance between them, Yoongi found his mouth dry and the only sound he could hear was the deafening sound of his heartbeat in his ears. He was so close that Yoongi could smell just the faintest hint of his cologne underneath the strong, overpowering smell of weed.
When Yoongi didn’t instantly part his lips Jimin gently gripped Yoongi’s chin between his thumb and index finger to coax his mouth open. All Yoongi could concentrate on as he inhaled while Jimin exhaled was the fact that Jimin’s lips were only a couple inches away from his. He was tempted to lean in, just the slightest bit, to close the distance and get those lips on his again. Even after the smoke had dissipated Jimin stayed where he was, but only for a moment, his eyes searching Yoongi’s face.
A low whistle from Hoseok broke the moment and then Jimin sat back in his chair with a lazy smirk.
“That was hot,” Hoseok said as he took the blunt from Jimin.
Jimin tossed his head back with a laugh and playfully shoved Hoseok’s shoulder. Yoongi had forgotten Hoseok was there, watched the two of them momentarily lost in their own world.
He carefully eyed Jimin, that strange anomaly of boy with a thick Busan accent who teased and flirted as if it were the most natural thing, but also broke out into high pitched whines and laughter and had a natural flush to his cheeks that made him look more boyish and cute. How strange Yoongi found him, but stranger was the fact that Yoongi wanted to know him better, be around him more.
Yoongi knew little about Jimin but there was a growing part of him that wanted to know more.
The next time around Yoongi was luckier. He happened to run into Jimin just four days after the last party, after the trio had sat in the backyard all night with a blunt shared between them until Jimin decided he was going to go get a drink and dance. Yoongi had watched him walk back into the house with bloodshot eyes that lingered for a moment too long.
Hoseok saw Jimin first as the two of them walked across campus from the library. He loudly called out Jimin’s name, waved his arm wildly even though he had already gotten Jimin’s attention.
Jimin parted from the group he was talking to with a sheepish smile and jogged over to Yoongi and Hoseok. Yoongi eyed him carefully, from the sleeve of his cardigan that were too long to the way his hair was pushed back and exposed his forehead. He was endearingly cute but insanely attractive at thee same time. It dumbfounded Yoongi as to how the boy could possibly pull off both looks at once.
“What’s up?” Jimin greeted them with a small jerk of his chin, “You guys wanna smoke?”
Hoseok groaned, “Fuck, I’ve got a shift at the radio station to go to. Maybe some other time?”
Jimin nodded in acknowledgement then directed his attention to Yoongi.
“What about you?”
Jimin chuckled a little and his smile showed the one of his fon teeth was slightly crooked, “Do you want to go smoke?”
Yoongi shrugged, “Sure.”
They parted ways with Hoseok and Yoongi followed Jimin back to his dorm. They were mostly quiet on their walk but the silence didn’t feel awkward or stuffy like Yoongi normally felt when he was left alone with someone he barely knew. On the contrary, Yoongi felt comfortable in the silence. He didn’t feel an insufferable need to fill it.
Behind them the sun dipped low in the sky, which started to cast the skin in soft hues of orange and pink. A flock of birds broke the silence when they flew overhead in the opposite direction. They passed by other students on the way back to their own dorms, or perhaps to the courtyard or the library. At this hour, late in the evening just before the sun was going to set, the campus buzzed with life.
Jimin lived in a dorm with three other roommates. There were two bedrooms with a shared bathroom on each end of the dorm, with a shared kitchen and living space. Yoongi knew other people that lived in the same building and every time he stepped foot into one of the dorm rooms he was secretly thankful that his only roommate was Namjoon.
When Jimin opened the door one of his roommates that Yoongi recognized as the boy from the first party eagerly greeted Jimin from where he sat at the bar top. As soon as his face broke out into a boxy grin Yoongi realized that he was the guy that Namjoon had chatted up just four days ago. Namjoon somehow managed to sweet talk his way into getting the guys number by the end of the night.
“Hey Tae,” Jimin said, “This is Yoongi-hyung, and this is my roommate Taehyung.”
Taehyung dramatically clutched his chest, right where his heart was.
“Roommate? I thought we were best friends, you’ve wounded me,” He exclaimed.
Jimin snorted and rolled his eyes before he turned back round to face Yoongi, “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
He disappeared around the corner into one of the few bedrooms which left Yoongi standing awkwardly by the front door with Taehyung who didn’t seem perturbed at all by the stranger standing in the middle of his dorm.
“You know, you look really familiar,” Taehyung said.
“You’ve probably seen me around campus or at some party,” Yoongi answered nonchalantly. He didn’t know if mentioning that Namjoon was one of his best friends would be weird or not so he opted to leave out that little detail. Taehyung regarded Yoongi carefully, something about the expression on his face made Yoongi think that Taehyung knew more about Yoongi’s reputation than he let on but his simple nod said that Yoongi’s answer would be enough for now.
Before anything else could be said Jimin returned from his bedroom wearing a hoodie with a faded logo across the front that showed that it was well worn and well loved.
“Come on,” Jimin said to Yoongi, “Let’s go.”
Taehyung wiggled his fingers in a parting wave to Yoongi and Jimin as they walked back out the front door and headed down towards the hallway. The two were quiet, the only sound between them was the sound of their feet hitting the hardwood and then the creak of a door opening once they reached the end of the hallway. It immediately opened into a stairwell, a sign on the cement wall had an arrow pointing up with the words “Roof Access” written underneath it.
Yoongi followed Jimin up the two flight of stairs until they reached the top landing. Jimin roughly pushed open the door and Yoongi tried his best to even his breathing from the small jog up the stairs. He may small but Yoongi hadn’t stepped foot inside a gym since high school so it was safe to say he was out of shape and the small exertion left him near breathless.
“Do you always come up here to smoke?” Yoongi asked once he was sure that his breathing was back to normal and that he didn’t sound like he just ran a marathon.
“Most of the time,” Jimin answered as he made his way over to a set of chairs near the far end of the rooftop. It looked liked someone had set up an area specifically for the purpose of hanging out. A couple of old lawn chairs sat in a semicircle facing the edge of the building and the city skyline. In front of the chairs was a beat up coffee table that had been painted an ugly shade of green at one point but now was chipped away. On top of it were two ash trays and an assortment of forgotten about beer cans and bottles.
It was all makeshift and old, none of the chairs matched and Yoongi was almost certain the table was older than he was, but it gave off a feeling of comfort and solace. A secret spot to hang out, smoke, and watch the sky change different colors along the horizon.
Jimin plopped down in one of the chairs and propped his feet up on the table. It wobbled on it’s rickety old legs under the weight but miraculously didn’t collapse.
“Whenever it gets too cold I’ll smoke out the window in my room but I prefer not to because it’s easier to get caught that way,” Jimin continued.
Yoongi sat down in the chair next to Jimin and watched as he pulled out a small tin and lighter from the front pocket of his hoodie. Inside the tin were joints that had already been rolled in advance. Jimin plucked one before he closed the tin again and shoved it back into his front pocket.
“Who all knows about this place?” Yoongi asked to try and keep the conversation going. He’d hate to admit that he wanted to hear more of Jimin’s voice and his thick accent.
“Not many people, my roommates and a few friends. I know a few other people in the dorm know about it but I never see them up here. Taehyung, the roommate you just met, bought the table at a flea market. Our other roommate said it was hideous but Taehyung insisted that it has character ,” Jimin laughed.
He flicked his thumb against the wheel of the lighter and brought the flame to life. Jimin lit the joint and inhaled deeply. Yoongi eyed him carefully, counted the seconds between his inhale and slow exhale. Something about the way Jimin’s lower lip jutted out as smoking billowed out from between his lips was captivating.
Without looking at him Jimin held out the joint to Yoongi who took it from him gently. Silence grew between them as the sunset across the sky and the joint slowly dwindled down but once again Yoongi found the silence comforting. There was no pressure or need to force conversation.
Every so often, when Yoongi would hand the joint back or when Jimin was too distracted to notice, he would steal a glance for a second or two. As the sun lowered behind the buildings the sky melted into vibrant shades of pink and orange. With the coming of night came the chill it always brought but Yoongi felt warm where he sat next to Jimin. In a few weeks he knew it’d be too cold to brace the night air like this, and who knew if he would even be hanging out with Jimin by that time, so Yoongi leaned back in his chair and soaked in the moment.
“What’re you majoring in by the way?” Jimin finally broke the silence between them.
“Music composition,” Yoongi answered simply, “What about you?”
Yoongi raised an eyebrow that made Jimin throw his head back with a laugh, his eyes turned up into the same shape of the crescent moon that hung above them. Once his laughter had died down he gave Yoongi a sly smile.
“I’ll give you a show sometime,” he said.
The words sent a small shiver down Yoongi’s spine that he hoped Jimin would blame on the chilly night air. The sky had turned into dark hues of purple and blue.
Jimin held out the joint in front of him and looked at it for a moment before he turned to Yoongi, “This is the last bit, wanna shotgun?”
And honestly how was Yoongi supposed to say no when Jimin had been so kind to offer in the first place?
Jimin sat up in his chair and leaned over the arm, closer to Yoongi. He brought the joint up to his lips and inhaled deeply. Yoongi met him halfway, lips parted the slightest bit. He had been half tempted to keep them shut until Jimin coaxed them open like last time, but his eagerness had gotten the best of him. His slow inhale while Jimin exhaled sent his head spinning. Jimin’s lips just barely brushed against his own and Yoongi wanted nothing more than to lean in and close the gap, to firmly press his lips against Jimin’s. He remembered how soft and how plump they were, he wanted to feel that again.
With a small laugh Jimin pulled away, “Sorry ‘bout that, guess I got too close.”
Yoongi wanted to say that Jimin could get as close as he wanted but swallowed the comment.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said instead, “I don’t mind.”
Jimin’s expression shifted into something curious and intrigued.
When Yoongi finally left to go back to his own dorm he shared with Namjoon, Jimin asked for his number. By the time Yoongi had walked through his door he already had two texts from Jimin waiting for him. Namjoon had asked why Yoongi was smiling to himself which promptly turned Yoongi’s small smile into a grimace and made Namjoon raise his hands up in mock surrender.
By the end of the week Yoongi knew more about Jimin than he ever imagined he would. For all the smirks, brief words and glances under half-hooded eyes that made Jimin come off as cool and reserved Yoongi found the truth to be exactly the opposite. Jimin loved to talk. Or rather, he liked the attention Yoongi gave him. Which, Yoongi didn’t mind giving him, especially when Jimin would invite him over to smoke. It’d start with them up on the roof of Jimin’s dorm, sat next to each other as they talked and watched the skyline. It always ended with the two of them shotgunning the last bit of the joint, their lips mere centimeters apart, so close to brushing against each other but they never quite did.
Somehow it had become a thing for them--shotgunning. It was maddeningly frustrating. Every time the want to lean in and close the gap between them grew but Jimin always pulled back with a knowing smirk before Yoongi could entertain the thought.
It was an odd sort of friendship but it was nothing short of intoxicating. As the warm autumn evenings slowly turned colder with the passing weeks, and Yoongi slowly grew closer to the anomaly formerly known as Jimin, he refused to admit he was hooked.
“So, people are starting to talk,” Hoseok said.
Yoongi looked up from his homework to where Hoseok sat across the table from him in the library. He furrowed his eyebrows in a silent question.
“About you and Jimin,” Hoseok clarified as he folded his arms and leaned on them on the table. Yoongi turned his attention back to his homework and quickly scribbled an answer to one of the questions. For a moment Yoongi wondered why he even bothered inviting Hoseok to the library with him if all he was going to do was talk and distract Yoongi from his work.
“What about us?” He asked without bothering to look back up at Hoseok.
“Just talk, you know how people are. Given your reputation--and his--I don’t know, I guess people are just assuming things about you two,” Hoseok answered without even trying to keep his voice down.
At that Yoongi looked back up, puzzled expression on his face. Hoseok had finally caught his attention.
“What do you mean?”
“About Jimin. His reputation?” Yoongi urged him. The girl at the table next to them sighed loudly, clearly exasperated at the conversation going on between Yoongi and Hoseok. They both completely ignored her.
Hoseok’s eyebrows shot up, “I’m surprised you don’t know.”
Yoongi sat back in his chair and rolled his eyes, “Fucking hell, Hoseok, can you get on with the point you were trying to make?”
“I’m just saying,” Hoseok went on, “That Jimin kinda has a reputation for sleeping around. People have seen you two hanging out recently and I guess it’s just interesting that the campus heartbreaker and playboy are...friends.”
“We are friends,” Yoongi said defensively.
“I’m not saying you aren’t,” Hoseok blurted, “But some people seem to think there’s more going on between you two.”
Yoongi quirked an eyebrow, “More?”
“Fucking, Yoongi. People think you two are fucking,” Hoseok deadpanned.
“I know what you meant.”
The two stared each other for a beat in which the girl sat at the next table over visibly sighed with relief.
“Well? Are you?”
The girl groaned and slammed her textbook shut before she promptly stalked off behind a row of bookshelves.
“What? No, we just hang out and smoke sometimes, that’s all,” Yoongi turned his attention back to his homework.
“Huh, that’s all?”
“So,” Hoseok drawled out the word, “You don’t want to totally jump his bones?”
Yoongi’s eyes shot up and bore holes into Hoseok with his glare who did nothing other than laugh.
“No need to get so defensive. I don’t blame you, Jimin is really attractive,” Hoseok teased and then burst into more laughter when Yoongi tossed an eraser at him.
Yoongi knew he had a reputation. Whether he liked it or not, he had one: heartbreaker. That’s what they called him. He hadn’t heard of Jimin before--even though he supposedly was known for being a playboy and sleeping around. It just went to show how much Yoong actually paid attention to what people said. He wouldn’t even know that people called him the campus heartbreaker if it weren’t for Hoseok and Jin telling him so.
It’s wasn’t his fault. Really, it’s wasn’t. He didn’t mean to create this image of himself. The thing was that Yoongi was afraid, and someone close to him might even say sensitive although he’d never admit to that. Anytime Yoongi got close to someone and started to develop real feelings for them he got struck with fear and ended things before they could really begin in order to protect himself from getting hurt.
Yoongi didn’t do feelings. It was better that way, easier and less of a mess, he claimed.
Thus, Yoongi had a string of failed relationships, many hookups that never lasted longer than a week, and the title of heartbreaker. It’d gotten to the point where he didn’t even try anymore, convinced himself that make out sessions and one night stands with people whose faces were easily forgotten and names that escaped him were enough for him.
He didn’t need more, he didn’t want more.
Correction: the only thing Yoongi wanted more of were instances of Jimin’s lips against his.
By now, over the few weeks that he and Jimin had started their odd little friendship, Yoongi grew to expect what always happened whenever the joint had dwindled down to a roach. The growing prospect of it was always enough to make Yoongi’s stomach churn, much to his chagrin.
“You’re studying musical composition, right?” Jimin asked and blew smoke out his window. It had grown too cold to go up to the roof, so with the early onset of nighttime Yoongi found himself sharing a joint with Jimin in his bedroom. It was different than he expected--tidier and clean. Yoongi had been expecting a whirlwind of a mess when Jimin first suggested they smoke in his room but had been surprised to find that Jimin kept his room neat.
His blankets were soft and pale yellow, tucked neatly underneath the mass of pillows at the head of the bed. A couple of succulents sat on Jimin’s desk, along with a couple stacks of CDs, textbooks and a laptop. An old and worn gym bag sat just outside the closet door, a pair of workout shoes next to it. The walls were mostly bare, save for a few pictures tacked up of Jimin’s family, people he knew from back home and an absurd amount of Taehyung. It felt homely.
“Do you play any instruments?” Jimin asked once he turned his head back around to face Yoongi. He was perched on the edge of his bed, right by the window.
“Yeah, I can play the piano,” Yoongi answered. He took the joint offered out to him and took a drag. He turned slightly from where he leaned against the window to blow the smoke out while Jimin spoke again.
“Shit, I wish I knew how to play an instrument.”
Yoongi shrugged, “I used to know how to play the ukulele but it’s been a few years since I last played.”
Jimin’s lips upturned into a smile, “Could I hear you play sometime?”
“Didn’t you promise me that you’d give me a show?” Yoongi quipped.
“I didn’t promise you anything,” Jimin rested his elbow on his knee and put his head in his hand, “But if you let me hear you play the piano sometime I promise it’ll be a good show.”
Yoongi eyed Jimin carefully. There was a smirk playing at his lips and a mischievous glint in his eye, similar to the one Yoongi had seen the first night he met Jimin. For a moment what Hoseok had said to him in the library made it's way to the forefront of Yoongi's mind. For a moment he wondered if Jimin had heard that people were tlking, or if he had heard the rumors himself. With a small shake of his head Yoongi pushed the thought back. Who cared what people thought or what they said? It never mattered to him before and it wasn't about to start now. What Jimin thought, however, was a whole other thing.
“I’ll hold you to that,” Yoongi said and held out the joint to Jimin. He took it from Yoongi without sparing a glance away from him, even when he brought it up to his lips to take the last drag. He motioned for Yoongi to lean down and as soon as he was within reach Jimin placed a gentle hand on the back of his neck and brought him down closer. Yoongi already knew what to do, had already parted his lips just enough.
Then there was the touch of their lips.
Yoongi didn’t know who did it--only that he wanted it again, wanted Jimin to kiss him like he had that night just over two months ago. He felt dizzy, not from the weed but rather from Jimin’s close proximity and the faintest touch of their lips. Jimin loosened the hold on the back of Yoongi’s neck so that they could part enough to look at one another properly. They had been dancing around each other for weeks now but Yoongi had chalked it up to his imagination, his own want manifesting itself to make him believe that Jimin could possibly want it too. He never let himself dwell on the thought for too long, believed it would only bring him disappointment in the long run. Now, though, with the way that Jimin looked up at him, a twinge of pink to his cheeks and eyes half-lidded, Yoongi wasn't so sure that it was all in his head anymore.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” Jimin murmured. Yoongi felt his breath against his lips.
He licked his lips and noted the way that Jimin’s eyes watched the action, “Don’t be.”
Jimin’s eyes shot back up to meet Yoongi’s gaze, his mouth twitched with the faintest hint of a smirk. Before he knew it, or could even tell who was leading who, Yoongi felt the firm press of Jimin’s lips against his. In stark contrast to the first time they kissed, it was lazier with less finesse but Yoongi melted into it. He ran a hand through Jimin’s hair and let it rest there, pull him closer despite how Yoongi didn’t want to seem needy.
Because he was.
He wanted more, he needed more.
Jimin placed his other hand gently on Yoongi’s waist, moved his lips so languidly and slow but sweet that it frustrated Yoongi how much he didn’t want to stop. His lips were softer than Yoongi remembered, and although their first kiss had been more daring and fervent, the slow sweetness of this one made Yoongi’s stomach drop. He finally got to feel Jimin’s addicting lips against his again.
But his lungs had started to scream for air and no matter how badly Yoongi wanted to keep kissing Jimin, he began to feel faint and had to pull away. He tried to even his breathing before he opened his eyes to see Jimin with flushed cheeks and a lazy grin on his face.
“Sorry,” Jimin murmured, voice low.
“Don’t be,” Yoongi said.
When Jimin pulled Yoongi even closer and leaned back in for another lazy kiss, Yoongi knew that he was without a doubt hooked.