If Jimin takes a moment to think about it, he doesn't really remember ever not being able to communicate with the dead.
'Earthbound spirits', that's what his mother had always called them. She'd been the same as him, trapped with the 'gift' to talk to those that should have already crossed over, a gift that'd rooted it's place within her soul and stayed there until the day she passed on herself.
Unlike his mother though, Jimin was never afraid. He'd had her to guide him, from the moment that he was old enough to realise that the countless imaginary friends that'd whispered in his ear and manifested at the end of his bed were not,in fact, imaginary. He'd learnt from an early age that the voices in his ears and the brief glimpses of vague, white casted faces in his dreams actually belonged to real people, people who had once lived and breathed alongside him, before him.
It was unsettling, of course, waking up from scream crowded nightmares to hear rough, whispered voices in his ear begging for help, or frightened, high pitched whines crying out for a way of release, a way of passing over so that they could finally rest.
At first they were all hard to decipher, leaving a phenomenal rattling in his ears and a distant throb in the back of his head that never seemed to pass. He'd fought to push them aside, screamed at them to slow down, to stop, and yet he found no reprieve, no way out of the 'gift' that he'd been so graciously bestowed.
And so, with his mothers help, he learnt to deal with them. He'd learnt to tune them out in public and keep his mind to himself, opting to let loose late at night under the guide of sleep, opening up the barriers he'd so carefully put up to allow the pent up voices through to ask for guidance. (Not that there was much that he could do much as a child.)
"They come to us for help." His mother had explained, eyes filled with a something solemn. "They need us to pass on their message, otherwise they can't move on like they're supposed to."
Jimin had wrinkled his nose, his six year old brain far too fresh to truly comprehend the complexities of it all. When he'd asked what she meant, she'd merely gazed out of the window, far beyond the expanse of night sky stretched before them.
"They have unfinished business, Jimin-ah, and I must finish it for them. You will too, when you're older."
Jimin still hadn't fully understood back then, but as he'd gotten older, her words had sank in. From as young as eight he was begging his mother to hunt down random apartment block numbers so that he could tell gruff, tattoed old men that their wives loved them one last time, or found himself stopping outside florists, purchasing single lily's and pressing them to the hands of the young woman on the bus that had just lost her brother, or the tired looking man with his head in his hands whom had just said goodbye to his mother for the last time.
One of his more memorable had been an occurance that'd taken place when he was twelve. He'd had a woman come to him in a dream, voice cracked and hair still plastered wet to her face.She'd drowned, a horrific car accident in the lake not far from his house. She had begged Jimin to extend a message to her husband, one last conversation before she was to pass over for good.
When he'd gotten to the little house the woman had once occupied with the former love of her life, he'd been surprised to find himself greeted with the stern, sharp features of a man in an expensive suit, gold watch dangling around his wrist. He'd barked at Jimin, asked what he wanted, and for once Jimin had found no guilt, nor awkwardness in parting his lips and relaying the message he'd been given.
"I have a message from your late wife, something that she wanted to tell you before she passed."
The man had drawn a sharp intake of breath, eyes growing round and chest tightening. The watch around his wrist rattled as he shifted. "Wha-"
"She told me to tell you that she knows." Jimin had stated, voice laced with grit. "And that you'll pay for your sins later on."
To say that the man had been angry, well, that was an understatement. Jimin had watched the colour drain from his face, watched his eyes cloud with rage and narrow in on him. He'd parted his lips, presumably to begin screaming torrents of abuse at the kid he supposed was some kind of prankster, but had been stopped by the hand that Jimin had held up, satisfaction bubbling up his gut as he delivered the final blow.
He'd levelled the man with a look of disgust, lips curling at his next words.
"She also told me to tell you that the watch that the woman you've been sleeping with bought you is fake. Good day, Bogum-ssi."
Before the guy had even had a chance to voice his shaken curses, Jimin was passing him a final nod before striding off down the street. The smirk that'd tugged at his lips was welcome as he listened to the distant, terror filled wails of the man. The woman had passed on peacefully that night, a whispered thanks in Jimins ear as he'd felt her presence dissipate into the air around him.
He'd never been a fan of his gift, but in that moment, he'd truly learnt to appreciate it.
And at the age of twenty-two, he'd find that it could be just as useful for the living, as it was for the dead.
"Honestly, I'm just saying that it's a fucking travesty that the checkpoint's so far away. How am I supposed to save my progress before I'm attacked by that venomous, eight legged freak of a-"
"-Maybe you wouldn't have to worry if you were actually capable of playing."
An over-exaggerated gasp fills the room, the sound of spider pincers emnating from the speakers long forgotten as uncontrolled bickering starts up, not unsual, but always unwelcomed.
Jimin groans from his spot at the dining table, ignoring the books unfolded beneath him as he looks up to glare daggers at his two friends. He's unconcerned to find Taehyung half on top of a cursing Jungkook, the elder boy pinning the younger beneath him as he whines and shoves at him, consoles abandoned on the floor. Jungkook snorts, jabbing the red head in the side and letting a laugh escape his lips as Taehyung cries out and dramatically rolls off of the sofa.
"Is there ever a time that you're both quiet around one another?" Jimin whines, causing the two men to jolt, as though they'd forgotten he was even there. It was a common occurance just lately with the two's growing, budding romance. Neither seem to have realised just yet, much to Jimin's annoyance, but he doesn't think it'll be long judging by the way that Jungkook's hands linger on Taehyung's waist as he tugs him up and onto the sofa. Taehyung's breathless, cheeks a deeper shade of red than they should be, and Jimin has to resist the urge to roll his eyes.
Unbelievable, the two of them.
"You love it when we're loud." Taehyung pouts, looking nowhere near apologetic.
Jimin stifles a sigh, it's true, he does love knowing that his friends are always near, loves knowing that he's not all alone with the voices in his head. If anything, he usually encourages Taehyung and Jungkook to be loud as possible as it helps to block them out when Jimin's too tired to keep a proper grip on the mental barrier. Maybe it's mean, to ignore, but he's long since learnt that having an open channel twenty-four seven is nothing but crippling to his own mind.
He rubs at his temples, squints through his lids at his friends."I do, but not when I'm running on two hours of sleep." He gripes. He'd had a long night last night, had spent the entirety of it twisting and turning, a heavy, uncomfortable feeling in his chest. It wasn't the voices that kept him awake, no, it was the settling of a kind of foreboding, something sharp and weighted digging it's filthy claws into his chest and holding on tight.
It was ominous, to say the least, and even now he finds he can't quite shake it.
"Chim, are you alright?" Taehyung's voice cuts through the haze of thoughts, and he nods, waving off his eldest friends concern.
"Fine, just tired is all."
Jungkook frowns, lips pressed together in a thin line. It's in moments like these that he's grateful for his friends and how much they care. With his mother-the last link of his family- gone, it's comforting to know that there are people that have his back.
Rumours about him had started up around their small town years ago, talk about him being just like his mother. A small, secluded town on the edge of a forest meant small, narrow minded people, and so he and his mother had found themselves mostly ignored, though the underlying fear of them was always present, something in which he didn't quite comprehend until he was old enough to realise why none of the other kids at school wanted to go near him, and why adults would avoid eye contact and shut themselves away inside whenever he walked past.
He'd taken it hard for a while, spent countless nights crying in his mothers lap over his gift ruining his life, but eventually he'd learnt to live with the unrestrained stares and whispers far too loud to be discreet.
By the age of ten he'd resigned himself to a life of loneliness, well, until Taehyung came along.
Kim Taehyung arrived in what Jimin would describe as a flurry of light, despite the cold December air. He'd been all bounding steps and boxy smiles that lit up young, open features. He'd beamed at the small classroom as he'd introduced himself, and perched at the desk next to Jimins, fingertips already tapping an upbeat rythm against the battered wood. Jimin had felt the stares of his classmates on his back, heard the budding whispers, and readied himself to be blatantly ignored by the new boy just as the others.
Because within a moment of laying eyes on Kim Taehyung, he knew just why he was here. Because that familiar boxy grin on his face was something Jimin definitely recognised on the features of the woman that'd appeared in his dream just a few nights before, face cast in white and expression solemn.
Her request had been an odd one. She'd begged Jimin to make sure that her nephew knew that she'd stored his birthday present in the basement of her house before she died. Jimin had been perplexed, but had promised to seek out the boy rather warily nonetheless, deciding that if it mattered to the woman, then it was indeed important.
Unbeknownst to Jimin, Taehyung had arrived in their town only last week, due to attend the funeral of his aunt, and remain within the small house with his father until further notice.
And so, as Taehyung had turned to him, that all too familiar smile kissing his features and amber eyes lit with something fierce, Jimin had felt his heart sink.
Because it was the first time he'd been smiled at like that in years, the first time that someone had taken a moment to actually extend something friendly toward him, and here he was, about to mess it up entirely because of a gift he never wanted.
He never feared his gift, no, but he certainly resented it.
"Do you ever actually last a full class in here?" The boy had asked, voice light."Her voice is so monotone that I doubt I'll be able to stay awake for long."
Jimin startled, panicked a little because noone ever spoke to him, and he'd rattled his brain in an attempt to find some decent form of reply when it just seemed to short circuit and -
He stuttered the words out before he'd had the chance to stop himself, almost reached out as though he could physically pull them back into his mouth because what the hell was that-why did you just-
Taehyung had turned, staring at him rather perplexed with his head cocked to the side like a lost puppy. "You...how did you know it was next week?"
The lump in Jimins throat grew, and he'd resisted the urge to slam his forehead against the desk. He ignored the whispers from his classmates growing in volume, and silently resigned himself to the fact that he'd never have another conversation with Kim Taehyung after this, and should just get it out of the way.
"Your um, your present." He'd mumbled, staring at the top of Taehyung's desk rather than his face. "She told me that she stored it in the basement, by the bikes."
"She wants to make sure you get it." Jimin whispered. There had been a dreaded moment of tension then, the eyes of their classmates almost too much for Jimin. He'd dragged his gaze back to his own desk, sank lower in his seat when Taehyung grew quiet and ignored the heavy, sinking feeling in his chest.
Taehyung didn't say anything to him for the rest of the day.
He was unsurprised of course, and had only spent twenty minutes in tears over it once he got home before helping the boy's aunt slip through to the afterlife with a small, reassuring smile. He felt lighter after, decided that even if Taehyung would hate him like the others now, at least he'd helped.
He'd expected to find the seat next to his empty when he walked into class the next day, though not for the first (nor last) time with Taehyung, he'd found himself completely wrong.
Because Kim Taehyung, fresh faced newbie, was reclined back in his chair with his desk dragged over until it was touching Jimin's, that beaming smile only growing wider. Upon catching Jimin's eye, his own had lit up and a small hand shot into the air as he'd waved him over.
"Jimin! Over here!"
Jimin had stood, feet rooted to the ground beneath him for a moment as he'd tried to decipher what the hell was going on. Why was Taehyung sitting closer? And why was he smiling?
The boy had waved again, calling his name with more impatience this time, and Jimin just about had half the sense to scuttle across the classroom, ignoring the wide eyed, slack jawed stares of his classmates.
The moment he'd sat down, (well, more like been dragged down) Taehyung had gotten into his personal space, eyes still shining.
"You're magic, Park Jiminie!"
Jimin had frozen, brows furrowing, because what.
"The present was just where you said, a brand new bike! I wonder when auntie got the time to buy it, she was rather ill for the last few months." He'd solemly cocked his head, studied Jimin carefully."You knew everything..."
Jimin had wilted a little, heart skittering at an unnatural pace as he parted then closed his lips. How was he supposed to react, and what was he supposed to say? He'd noticed the way Taehyung's brows had furrowed, the way his mouth had twisted into a small, knowing frown.
"I heard what the adults say about you, in town. And the other kids too...."
Jimin jolted at that, a pang of hurt blooming in his chest. Of course.
He readied himself to watch Taehyung sneer, or move away and ask the teacher to switch his seat, and instead found himself almost balking as Taehyung shifted even closer .
"You spoke to my aunt, right?"
Jimin inhaled sharply, palms sweating in his lap. When he gained the stregnth to reply, it was only to nod. He hung his head, wanted to avoid the disgusted look on Taehyung's face that he'd surely be greeted with.
Instead, a small, tanned hand swam into his line of vision and clasped itself with his own, trembling one. Jimin had gasped, head shooting up to level Taehyung with wide eyes. He'd parted his lips, a protest ready to spill from them when-
The boy's voice had been laced with the purest of sincerities, something in which Jimin was hardly used to, and he found himself simply gaping at the other, his eyes round and their fingers still laced together.
Taehyung had only grinned wider, a snicker tumbling from his lips as he leant forward to tap at Jimin's chin and close his mouth. The December sun cast a golden glow across his skin as he levelled Jimin with a soft look.
"You...you're not scared?" Jimin had eventually stuttered, voice small.
The other had rolled his eyes,squeezing Jimins hand a little tighter. His spoke firmly, with the most conviction that Jimin had ever heard from another child.
"You're not a monster, Jiminie."
Jimin had cried again that day, though out of a relief that he was far from used to.
From that day on, Taehyung had become his greatest, and most wonderful friend. He kept Jimin away from prying eyes and harsh whispers, kept him safe when verbal fights turned into physical, despite landing himself with countless detentions and bloody noses. Each and every time Jimin patched him up, begged him not to fight because of someone like him, and merely earnt himself an eye roll and that overly calm, signature smirk.
"You're worth it, Jiminie." Was always Taehyung's reply.
Jimin never needed anyone else other than Taehyung. Taehyung who was able to always beat him in their races through sunlit forest, who let Jimin wipe at his mouth when he ate too messily.
The boy who laid awake at night with him and grasped his hand in both of his when the pained cries of tortured, earthbound souls were too much for Jimin to bare.
Jimin was incredibly lucky, he knew that.
Jungkook didn't come along until they were in their teens, all doe eyes and polite smiles. He'd befriended Taehyung first, though had easily fallen into their little friendship group despite hearing the rumours about Jimin. The youngest seemed unbothered from the start, merely shrugging and casting a glare over his shoulders at the other kids who stared.
"You're kinda like a superhero, hyung." He'd quirked, brows lifting.
Jimin had clipped him around the back of the head, but spent the rest of the day grinning to himself because somehow, he'd been lucky enough to find someone just as special as Taehyung.
As he watches Jungkook slap Taehyung's flitting hand away from his messy hair now, not for the first time he thinks about how grateful he is.
"Maybe you should get an early night." The youngest murmurs, serious."You look a little...rough."
Jimin sends the other a slightly affronted look."Wow, thanks."
"You know what I mean-"
"Yeah, I know. I think I will." He sighs, flipping the books beneath him closed as he stands. He wavers a little, ignores the concerned gazes of his friends as he rights himself and rakes a hand through his knotted hair.
"Do you need anything?" Taehyung asks, shifting slightly. "You want me to lay with you-"
"I'll be fine." He cuts his friend off, smile quirking at his lips. "Really." He pauses, glances up at the other two men with a sincerity that he reserves only for them.
The two shake their heads, softest of smiles gracing their lips.
"Always." Taehyung murmurs."Now go get some sleep, Park Jimin. Before I storm in there and-"
He slams his bedroom door behind him with a laugh, Taehyung's indignant squawks finding him far down the hall.
The soul that seeks him that night, is perhaps the most frantic that Jimins ever encountered.
Jimin shifts in his sleep, pushes through the chaos and attempts to make sense of the rushed out, garbled words. They're laced with panicked dread, sending vibrations and jolts through his system that have him gasping for breath, his blood roaring in his ears. What-
Jimin reaches out for the voice, manages to get a grasp on it with a large amount of effort. The moment that he does, everything around him bursts into clarity, adrenaline spiking and his entire being bursting into flames.
"Please help me-please." The voice pleads, young and male from what Jimin can distinguish. It's thick with panic, wavers and reverberates almost painfully in his ears. He tries to ground himself, tries to blindly communicate and calm the spirit down.
"Who are you?" Jimin asks, calling out into the void."Who-"
"There's no time, I just need you to help him, before he-"
"Help who?" He asks, liquid fire spilling through his veins. He tries to get a handle on the situation, tries to get a glimpse of the spirit but the connections too flimsy, the other's panic making it too difficult to properly focus.He hasn't had a spirit this haywire in a long time, and it unsettles him.
The name richochets throughout Jimins mind, and he almost chokes at how suffocated he feels, how much emotion is attached to the word. He sucks in a breath,the dull ache in his head starting to thrum uncomfortably.
"Yoongi-" He starts, frowning."But-"
"You have to save him, now!"
"Save him?" What kind of request-
"He's in danger." The voice hisses, breaking and crackling. The connection wavers, and Jimin fights to keep hold." Please, they want to kill him and I need you to save-"
Something in Jimin jolts, and he calls out into the void. "Who are you? You need to tell me-"
"Just find Yoongi, please. "
Jimin curses, he's getting nowhere. He grits his teeth, ignores the ache in the back of his head."Where is he?" He tries, body pulled along with the connection.
"Mechanics-He's a mechanic." The voice cries."Just, please-"
"Tell me your name!" Jimin shouts, desperate. I have to know his-
It's practically screamed into his ear, breathless and laced with the same panic as earlier. There's a grit of frustration to it, annoyance that makes Jimins head throb all the more. Just who is he?
"Seungwoon." Jimin repeats, throat tight."You want me to-"
"You have to save him, before it's too late." Seungwoon pleads. Jimin hates that he can't see his face, the connection far too brittle for it. He pushes past the shaking of the foundation, just enough to hear the last words that spill from Seungwoon's mouth.
"Find him!" The spirit shatters, explodes through Jimins ears in a catastrophic implosion.
"Save Min Yoongi-"
He wakes with a dying gasp on his lips, sweat rolling down his neck and his blood roaring in his ears.
He's shaking, the chill of night grazing the damp of his skin and eliciting a full body shiver. He shudders, breath coming out in sharp, uneven gasps as he tries to right himself. He rakes his hair from his eyes, sits up to look around the room. Darkness floods in through the window, casting shadows across the room that do nothing to ease the insistant thrum of his heart.
He presses a shaking hand over his mouth to hold in a whimper, mind reeling as the sheer nauseating panic in the spirit's voice echoes in his head. He closes the link, unable to keep up with it's unwavering terror any longer.
He's never had someone request for him to save a person before. The thought unsettles him, the pressure from the night before blooming all over again in his chest as he tries to make sense of what just happened.
The same sense of foreboding returns, and he swallows hard past the lump in his throat as he stares into the void.
Just who is Min Yoongi?
And why does he need saving?
"I'm telling you Tae, it was probably the worst connection I've ever had." Jimin's voice comes out weak from where he leans over the counter, face down. "The sheer, unfiltered terror the guy was emitting was enough to almost lose the link each time I grasped it."
Taehyung places the bottle of rum he's examining down, palms on the countertop as he leans in. There's a dip between his brows, frown gracing his lips. "You've dealt with frightened spirits before though, right?"
Jimin nods, torn."I have, but nothing like this. I felt his fear like it was my own.It was like he was standing behind me and screaming in my ear."
"For you to save this Yoongi guy?" The bartender quirks. "That's a new one."
Jimin hums."I've never had a request like that, and I've got no idea how to fulfill it. I'm hardly a hero-"
"Jungkook was joking, Tae. I'm not some strong, athletic superhero that's sitting around waiting for endangered townsfolk to call my name so that I can swoop in and save them. I'm just... Jimin. I talk to spirits and give them closure."
Taehyung sighs. "It was only a matter of time though, wasn't it? Until the spirits wanted more." There's a fearful apprehension to the words that sets Jimin on edge, even more so than he was already.
"It's not fair, Jiminie."The other huffs."You always do your best to help them, run yourself into the ground for it, and now they're asking you to save peoples lives? That's a ridiculous amount of pressure. Not to mention downright dangerous-"
"I wouldn't even know where to find this Yoongi guy, anyway." Jimin huffs. Seungwoon said he was a mechanic... There's an uncomfortable pang in the side of his head, followed by an annoying buzz and he rolls his eyes, hisses at it mentally to simmer down.
Taehyung catches his withered expression and cocks a brow, to which Jimin sighs.
"It's the spirit, he's rather... insistant."
The other mans eyes widen."Even with the link closed? Fuck, he's powerful."
Jimin huffs."He's desperate. It makes him powerful." The way Jimins gift usually works is that once a voice from the pool jumps out at him, it's the only one he'll hear for a while until he's completed what they've asked of him and given them closure. Usually he'd find himself relaxing at that, grateful to only having one voice following him around, but Seungwoon was quickly proving to be an uncomfortable constant pressure that he couldn't shake.
"Even so." Taehyung grimaces."This doesn't sound so good, Jiminie. I have a bad feeling."
Jimin releases a drawn out breath, ignoring the buzzing in his ear. "Yeah, so do I. What can I do though? I have to help him cross over..."
"I don't know..." Taehyung casts him a long, concerned look."But I'm worried. This guy said that someones trying to kill his friend, right? You can't get involved in that-"
"Well until I can find the mysterious, Min Yoongi, there's nothing I can do about it anyway." He cuts Taehyung off, feeling jittery,uncomfortable. He fiddles with the glass of water in his hands, ignores the pointed looks he's getting from some of the other patrons.
This is ridiculous. Mother would go crazy.
He huffs. Still, she'd understand.
It's Taehyung's turn to let out a long, suffering sigh this time. He pushes off of the counter, barely concealed uneasiness written across his features as he speaks.
"The only Yoongi I've heard of lives out near the forest, a real tough guy going by the mutterings about the bar. I don't know his second name, but it could be the guy you're looking for."
Jimin sits up a little straighter, ignoring the rush in his head."Really? Do you know what he does?"
Taehyung frowns."From what I've heard he's some kind of car dealer? Mechanic? One of those get your hands dirty kinda jobs."
That has to be him. Jimin practically jumps off of his stool, the thing almost clattering to the floor.He catches it blindly, ignoring the slight yelp that slips out of Taehyung.
"W-wait, where are you going?" His friend stutters, eyes wide.
Jimin rakes his hair off of his face, shrugging his jacket on. "There's no time like the present, right?"
"I'll be fine, Tae." He cuts in, levelling his friend with a long, hard look. "I'll be careful."
The redhead studies him for a moment, expression torn, worried almost. "You better." He finally utters, the words holding a hint of warning.
Jimin cracks a smile, a genuine one, before he's calling a quick goodbye and scuttling out of the door.
Time to find the mysterious Min Yoongi.
The spirit, Seungwoon, continues to rattle in his skull as Jimin comes to a stop outside of a large, worn down building. The heavy feeling in his chest intensifies, and as he steps out of his car and clicks the door shut behind him, he just knows that he's at the right place. He leans back against his car, crosses his arms as he surveys the building.
The mechanics is indeed, on the edge of town. It borders the forest, which Jimin knows tapers off into field and dirt road. Their small town is in the middle of nowhere after all, surrounded by road and tree and practically cut off from the rest of the world.
The actual building is surrounded by tree's itself, vines overgrown as they creep up the sides of the brick and green encompassing almost the entirety of it as it sits nestled amongst the jungle of nature behind it.
The paint that Jimin can see, is chipped and peeling, exposing old brick beneath. The yellow sign reading MINS MECHANICS sits proudly above, some of it faded from the onslaught of bad weather that the towns inhabitants are more than accustomed to.
The place simply looks like a massive garage, the wide door of it shoved open, casting afternoon light into what looks like a warehouse of sorts. From where Jimins standing he can see the back of a car inside, obviously being worked on judging by the variety of tools strewn about the floor by its sides. Various noises reach Jimins ears even from here, and he cranes his neck a little, tilting his head as he searches for any other signs of life.
He hears a couple, the sound of low laughter joining scraping metal and a sharp series of banging. A rumble pulls his attention away, and upon glancing at the thicket of grey clouds overhead, he frowns.
A storm is coming.
The sky groans in response, and Jimin whips his head down just in time to catch a glimpse of someone in the garage, a shock of bleach blonde hair rifling about over a toolbox. The navy of his overalls stands out against pale, smooth skin, and Jimin promptly feels something in him shift and erupt into flames when the man stands, light from outside spilling across his features.
Even from here Jimin notes the delicate expanse of features, despite the half scowl set across his lips. His eyes are sharp, lips pouty as he tosses a wrench back into the toolbox and reaches up to shift the cap on his head. He calls something over his shoulder, voice low, gruff, and Jimin sucks in a sharp breath.
He swallows, drags his gaze away and carefully opens the link. "Is that him? Yoongi?" He asks, voice a whisper.
The voice in his head answers almost immediately, breathless and desperate.
"It's him. Please, you have to-"
"I can't do anything yet." Jimin silences the other, brows dipping. "I don't even know how I'm supposed to be helping-"
"Just stay by his side, keep him safe. Please."
"I can't tell you why or who." Seungwoon interrupts. "I just need you to do it."
Jimin grits his teeth."You do realise how dangerous this is for me, don't you? I'm not a fucking bodyguard-"
"I understand." The voice silences him. "But you're the only one that can help." He sounds younger like this, Jimins age almost.
Not for the first time he finds himself wondering what happened to Seungwoon. He'd never ask though, for fear of crossing a line.
He sags against the car, heart sinking a little. He's right about asking others. The police would laugh, turn me away and brand me insane.
"So I just...what, befriend him?" He asks, frowning.
There's a snort in his ear, something that catches Jimin off guard, though before he can ask he's interrupted.
"You can try. Yoongi's....not very trusting." There's a slight teasing lilt to his voice, and Jimin can't help but note so. Unusual...What kind of spirit is this?
He huffs, almost throwing his hands up. "Then how the hell am I supposed to-"
"I didn't say it would be easy." Comes Seungwoon's voice, strained. "Just...just keep an eye on him."
Jimin scoffs, contemplating running himself over with his own car. This is ridiculous.I'll look like a stalker.
"I can't believe this." He breathes, eyes on the clouds once more. "You're going to get me killed."
"Nah, I doubt Yoongi would-"
"I wasn't talking about him!" Jimin squawks, wide eyed."You're telling me that he's dangerous now too? Wow, thanks-"
"You'll be fine.." Seungwoon interrupts, and Jimin can almost picture a hand waving him off a little too nonchelantly. "Yoongi's not that bad."
Jimin merely rolls his eyes, pushing off of the car. It's going to rain soon, and he can't afford to get sick now. "You're unbelievable." He mutters. "And why can't I see you? usually by this point-"
"The connection's too weak.I can't get a good enough grasp on you." Seungwoon's voice comes. "You'll just have to deal with me rattling off in your ear."
Jimin frowns, but drops it nonetheless. It's happened before, where spirits have been too emotionally unstable to form a decent enough connection. Still, Jimin thinks, it's always unsettling not having a face to a voice.
Not for the first time he wonders how Seungwoon passed. He's used to spirits telling him,unless their forms provide a dead giveaway. A gunshot wound to the neck, or soaking hair plastered to ivory skin. Not seeing Seungwoon took that away, and it seems that the spirit has no plans on divulging. He supposes it's a little rude to ask how someone died, and honestly, he's not here to question that. He's here to help.
He ignores the awful thought in the back of his mind that the mans death wasn't an accident.
Shaking his head, he casts a look back towards the mechanics one last time, and promptly feels his heart drop into his stomach. The blonde's standing by the car he was working on, though he's not paying any attention to it like he was earlier, no.
He's staring, right at Jimin.
Jimin sucks in a stuttering breath and turns on his heel, almost smacking his forehead on the door in an attempt to get into his car. He hurriedly turns his key, ignores the sound of Seungwoon droning on about something in his head as he pushes down on the pedal and curses breathlessly.
He tries to push back the heat creeping up his cheeks as he speeds out of there, leaving Min Yoongi behind.
"So he's attractive, and?" Taehyung's voice holds a note of amusement as he sinks back onto the sofa inbetween Jimin and Jungkook. He almost sloshes his water all over Jimin, ignoring the petty look that his friend sends him as he gets more comfortable in the cushions.
"I don't know how to talk to normal people, let alone attractive people." Jimin huffs, arms crossed."And I never said he was! He's just....different." He hadn't needed to say Min Yoongi was attractive, not with the pink, tell tale flush that'd bloomed across his cheeks the second Taehyung had asked if he'd found the guy.
He doesn't know why he's sulking, really. Maybe it's the embarrassment from being caught staring, maybe it's the annoyance of Seungwoon pumelling at the connection every five minutes. He feels jittery, little pulses of electricity tickling at his fingertips.
"You talk to Jungkook and I every day though." Taehyung answers rather smoothly. Jimin sends him a swift glare.
"I just don't get how I'm supposed to do this." He pouts, ignores the hair that falls into his eyes. "I'm lost. How do I talk to him?"
"Well your job is to save his life, not seduce him." Jungkook quips. Both Jimin and Taehyung hit out at him, the youngest cursing in disbelief, and Jimin sinks back further against the cushions.
"I know that." He supplies, brows dipping."But how do I save his life if I can't go anywhere near him?"
Taehyung gnaws on his lip, eyes flashing. "Maybe this is a sign that you shouldn't get invol-"
"You know what's a sign?" Jimin asks, sitting up properly. "Seungwoon continuously yelling at me to go and camp outside the mechanics so I can protect the guy. He's obsessed, and it's driving me insane."
He's never met a spirit like Seungwoon before, someone who so easily flits between a blind panic and short, bursts of teasing whenever it suits him. He's constantly rattling off in the back of Jimins head, even when he's not listening, and it leaves him with whiplash.
Taehyung scowls, redirecting his gaze to Jimins forehead."This Seungwoon sound's like an arse." The vibrations in Jimins skull intensify for a moment, and he holds back a snort. Take that.
Jungkook curses rather colourfully."Shit Tae, the guy's dead."
"I don't like him." Taehyung crosses his arms, the pout intensifying. "He's asking you do something dangerous, and he's making you weak."
Jimin parts his lips to protest, only to be silenced by a hand in his face. "He's draining power from you Jiminie, I can see it." The concern that flits behind his gaze is real, and Jimin can't help but feel a little guilty.
After all, he is right. He's exhausted.
"I can't do much about it, Tae." He eventually says, sending his friend a soft look." The sooner that I sort this the sooner it ends, alright?"
"You should get to it then." The conviction in Jungkook's voice is enough to have both men turning, the tension in the room creeping up uncomfortably.
"The sooner it's over the better, right?" Jungkook asks, eyes boring into Jimin. Between them, Taehyung curses, the sound loud and strangled.
Jimin nods. The sooner the better.
Jungkook smiles then, soft and understanding."Then hurry up and save this guys life, hyung."
Jimin retires to bed earlier again that night, spends the majority of it tossing and turning, enduring another long, hushed conversation with Seungwoon, who seems to think that it's suddenly alright to point out that Jimin had very obviously flushed upon locking eyes with Yoongi earlier.
Jimin wonders, not for the first time, why he does this shit.
I don't have a choice.
The sky is marked with a murky grey as he rolls up outside the mechanics, the threat of thunder once again on the horizon. The garage door is open again, various sounds pouring out into the forest behind, and Jimin resists the urge to put the car back into drive and tear out of there.
"Come on, you can do this." He taps his fingers against the leather of the steering wheel, gaze flickering between the garage and the stretch of road in front of him.
Maybe Taehyung was right, maybe I shouldn't get involved.
But I have to.
He huffs, hot air pulsing against the windscreen, and presses his lips together to hold in a childish whine. Just get in there and do it. You haven't got unlimited time.
His gaze falls to the blinking engine light, and he cringes. He'd done it earlier this morning, tinkered with the engine randomly in an attempt to make it look like his car was broken. He'd shot an embarrassed glare over his shoulder when Jungkook had levelled him with a long smirk and a snort on his way to work, and had made a quick getaway before Taehyung had the chance to come out and rip into him.
He was aware it was a pretty stupid idea to damage his own car, but it was the only idea he had.
He releases the steering wheel from his nervous grip and rakes in a long breath. When he opens the link he's already expecting the long tirade of panic from the spirit, and so barely flinches as Seungwoon launches into long strings of barely understandable pleads and orders.
"You're probably one of the most unstable soul's I've ever met." Jimin gripes, shaking his head. "Simmer down will you? I'm going."
"Well make sure you don't fuck it up-"
"Are you really in a position to be rude? I'm the only one you've got-"
"Look, just get in there and do what I asked you.We haven't got the time for this."
Probably the rudest I've ever met too. Jimin takes a moment to breathe out, ignoring the urge to scream. He unclicks his seatbelt and opens his door without a word, annoyance driving him forward as he gets out.
"Don't bother me whilst I work." Is all he says, before he's closing the link and slamming the car door shut behind him. His head throbs a little, though it fades somewhere towards the back as he takes in a lungful of fresh air.
Without the pane of glass dividing him from the garage the noises are louder, and he finds sweat collecting along the skin of his palms as he grits his teeth and orders himself to move.
It'll be fine, just go.
He makes his way over with a final whine trapped in his throat, ignoring the distant rumble trapped within the clouds above as he sidesteps overgrown weed and dips in the earth. The closer he gets the more he makes sense of a couple voices from inside, and he clenches his fists harder, feels his nails dig into his palms in an attempt to ground himself and just move.
Surprisingly, it's not Min Yoongi that he first stumbles upon.
He's loitering by the open garage, nervousness clinging to his frame uncomfortably, when a head of chestnut brown ducks out from behind a large red truck, an impossibly huge smile stuck to it's owners face.
Jimin startles a little, because despite spending his life talking to the dead he's not exactly immune to floating heads, and watches as the man steps out, full body now (thankfully) in view as he approaches Jimin, all smiles and golden skin.
"Hey! You need some help?" The cheerful note of his voice is enough to have Jimin relaxing just slightly, the man raking a hand through his hair despite the dark grease attached to it. He looks over Jimins shoulder, gaze lighting up as he eyes his car.
A low whistle escapes heart shaped lips, and he drags his gaze back to Jimin."That a nineteen sixty-nine mustang? Nice."
Jimin scratches at the back of his neck, a little embarrassed. "Ah, it's inherited. It's seen better days but it was my mothers." She'd been gifted it after giving closure to an old couple after the husband had died from a heart attack, years ago. His windower had passed on his car to Jimins mother in an attempt of thanks. His mother always said she thought that she just couldn't bare to look at the thing anymore.
It's a faint blue, the paintwork faded and some of the metal chipped, but Jimin loves it nonetheless, and he cant stop the smile that creeps onto his lips as the guy hums and shoots another impressed grin towards the car.
"So what's the problem? You need something fixed?"
Jimin nods, finding his voice again."The engine seems a little damaged, so I thought I better had bring it in." The man's humming in assent, concern marring his features as he wipes his hands on his overalls.
"I'm busy with a jeep right now, but let me just grab Yoongi hyung. He'll take a look. I'm Hoseok by the way." He looks as though he wants to shake Jimins hand, but takes a look at the grease coating it and sends him an apologetic smile.
"Ah,I'm Jimin." Jimin wilts a little, almost tells him that he doesn't mind waiting but then he remembers that this is why he's here. For Yoongi.
He nods through a tight jaw, forcing a smile onto his face as Hoseok shoots him one last grin and saunters off. A moment later, Jimin hears him obnoxiously screaming Yoongi's name, and finds himself holding back a genuine laugh as he leans up against the brick wall behind him. He relaxes a little, shoulders not as stiff anymore as he tries to collect himself.
The garage looks better on the inside than he'd assumed, all warm lighting and wood pannelled walls. There are a few benches layered with tools, countless coffee cups strewn about and several polaroids littering the walls. If Jimin was brave, he'd take a step closer to look, but he's not, so he'll remain by the brick, letting the cold of it seep into his back through his thin shirt.
He probably should have dressed warmer.
He ignores the spike in his system as he registers footsteps coming closer, and stuffs his hands into his pockets to hide their slight shaking as two figures appear round the side of the truck, heading straight for him. He attempts to look something akin to nonchelant as Hoseok approaches, heart shaped smile still marring his features as he steps out of the way of the second guy, almost shoving him toward Jimin.
"This is Yoongi. He'll take a look and sort you out, alright? You were right to bring it in."
Jimin lets his gaze flit to the man standing beside him, feels something in him snap a little as he takes in the same bleach blonde hair and narrow, cat like eyes he'd seen a couple days ago. If he thought that Min Yoongi was attractive from a far, well, up close it's almost laughable how the sight of him has Jimin's heart skittering a little too dramatically against his ribcage.
So this is him. He thinks, chest uncharacteristically tight. The thought that the man standing before him is in danger, that he could be killed if Jimin doesn't intervene somehow, suddenly feels a little too real.
He gulps, ignores the weight in his chest.
Yoongi doesn't make a move to introduce himself, ink black eyes instead boring into him like they're trying to get to the root of some kind of problem. His sharp jaw is set in a hard line, lips pressed together as he tilts his head at Jimin, gaze travelling from his hair to his shoes.
Jimin tries to stamp down the heat blooming across his cheeks and his collarbones, and instead clears his throat, attempting to break Yoongi out of whatever trance he's in because he really doesn't think he can handle much more that narrow, unwavering gaze.
Also, it's kind of unsettling feeling like someone's in your head. (He'd know all about it after all.)
The blonde blinks, dragging his eyes from Jimin immediately. He looks past him to his car, something flickering across his expression, and Jimin looks down at his feet, the knot of his trainers suddenly more interesting.
What the hell is going on.
"Alright then..." Hoseok's drawl fills the garage, a hint of amusement lingering. When Jimin looks up, the guy's looking between him and Yoongi with a shit eating grin, eyes lit with something dangerous as he takes a step back and rakes a hand through his hair.
"Let me know how it goes." He practically sings, and has the audacity to shoot Jimin an actual wink as he turns and strides off down the garage. Jimin promptly snaps his slack jaw shut, cheeks burning and hands still clenched inside of his pockets. I can't believe-
"Drive it on in, I'll take a look." A sharp, gruff voice cuts through his internal montage, and Jimin stutters, finds himself nodding a little too fiercely as he scoots past Yoongi and heads for his car.
"What the hell are you doing, Park Jimin." He hisses to himself, movements sharp as he throws open his door and gets in. He resists the urge to slam his head against the steering wheel as he closes the door behind him, condemns the blush licking at his skin as he turns his keys and ignores the sharp gaze he feels rooted into the side of his face even from here.
"Just stay calm, idiot." He mutters."He's just a guy, even if he is fucking gorgeous." This is ridiculous, you shouldn't be thinking such things.
The buzzing in his head intensifies for a moment, and Jimin curses, shutting it out. He steers the car towards the garage, heart making a poor attempt at calming down as he drives past Yoongi and puts the car into park.
You're a grown adult, you can do this. Something that sounds suspiciously like a whine escapes his lips, and he clenches his jaw as he forces himself to get out, cold hair hitting the heated skin of his cheeks. He closes the door behind him, taking a step back as he watches Yoongi descend on the car like some kind of vulture. He pops the hood, starts muttering to himself as he pointedly ignores Jimin and disappears to tinker with the thing.
The hood obscures him from view mostly, so Jimin takes a moment to shake out his nerves and focus on what he's supposed to be doing, which is learning about Yoongi so that he can save his life. It's almost unbelievable, the situation he's found himself in, but Jimin knows better, knows that he's far from unused to such bizarre, unusual adventures. The pure terror that laces Seungwoon's voice each time Jimin opens the link is enough for him to take note of the mans pleas, and he knows he'd be a fool to ignore him.
No, Seungwoon is telling the truth, and as Jimin stands there, mulling over his pathetic excuse of a life, he can't help but wonder yet again, why the mysterious Min Yoongi's life is in such danger.
The thought of someone wanting to murder the man infront of him is somewhat jarring, despite Jimin knowing next to nothing about him other than his occupation. Because despite the apparent iciness to Min Yoongi's being, he seem's relatively quiet in his demeanour.
Maybe it's all an act.
An icy chill rolls up his spine and he shakes it off, pressing his lips together. Just focus on what your supposed to be doing.
"How did this happen?" A voice calls, and Jimin almost startles when Yoongi himself peers round the side of the hood. He's frowning, a dip between his brows and lips twisted uncomfortably as he studies Jimin. "Looks like someone's been fiddling with it."
Jimin swallows, ignores the fresh wave of heat as he attempts to stutter something comprehensible out. "Uh, well- I don't know. I just found it like that this mornin-"
"You got enemies, kid?"
Jimin jolts, lips curling down.Well that's...strange. "Kid? Um, I'm twenty two-"
"Well you look seventeen." The man quips rather easily. Jimin has a feeling that it's how he talks to everyone, harsh and upfront, but it doesn't sit well with him, offense bubbling up his throat.
"Hey!" He's affronted, jaw dropping as he glares at the blonde. Of course he's an idiot, I should have known.
"Just calling it how I see it." Yoongi shrugs, nonchelant enough. There's a smudge of grease on his cheek, and some strands of blonde fall into his eyes, though he makes no attempt to push them back. (Jimin pretends the sight doesn't do anything to him)
"Do you insult all of your customers?" He snaps instead, folding his arms across his chest. The cheek of it-
"Only the ones that are easy to rile up." Comes Yoongi's swift reply, amusement tinting the words as he looks up at Jimin from beneath a thicket of lashes.
Jimin's sure he's pouting by now, his face uncomfortably hot and cheeks surely littered with rose.He shakes his head, insides bristling.
"You're ridiculous." He huffs. "Atleast I don't move around like a crusty old man, whats up with your hunchback-"
"Hunchback?" The blondes eyes widen in offense, "Wha-"
"You heard me, pensioner."
The mechanic straightens up from where he's leaning and shoots Jimin a short, sharp glare. "I'm not an old ma-"
"Aren't you supposed to be fixing my car?"
There's this long, drawn out moment where he and Yoongi simply stare at one another, the tension in the garage stiff between them. Jimin's ready to head home and scream into his pillow about how unlucky he is to have been tasked to find this man of all people, but the incessant buzzing in his ear is enough to snap him out of it.
Yoongi's the first to look away, much to Jimins amusement, and he finds himself watching the other man as he tinkers a little more whilst muttering a string of words beneath his breath. He doesn't bother to try and make them out, sure it'd only rile him up more if he did.
"I can fix it but not immediately, you'll have to come back in a couple of days." The blonde eventually states, not bothering to look up from the car.
Jimin nods, humming in an attempt to control the waver in his voice. "Alright then, I suppose-"
He jerks his head up, Yoongi looking over his shoulder toward the owner of the voice that'd cut Jimin off. Jimin's surprised to find a tall, long limbed man standing over by the wall, hands shoved into the pockets of his overalls . He shoots Jimin a smile, a dimple sprouting on each cheek, and pushes himself off of the wall to join them.
"Joon-" Yoongi begins, tone rushed.
"You're Park Jimin, aren't you?"
Jimin freezes. He should have known someone would recognise him, it's a small town after all. If anything, he's surprised that Yoongi and Hoseok haven't let on yet. He ignores the swell of discomfort in his chest that he's far too used to, and flashes the tall man a faint smile.
"Ah, yeah. That's me."
"You know this kid?" Yoongi's looking between him and Namjoon with furrowed brows, and Jimin finds himself frowning. Does he not know who I am?
The guy, Joon, rolls his eyes. When he breathes a faint laugh, it's almost sweet. Jimin would call it so if he weren't afraid of the reception he was about to recieve. "You live under a rock, hyung. Jimin's famous in town."
Oh god. Jimin winces."I wouldn't say-"
"I've seen you around a few times, always wanted to talk-"
"Talk?" Jimin questions. Now that's not a request he's used to hearing.
"Well, yeah." The man nods."My mother talked about yours alot. She was real fond, said she had a gift, passed it onto her son."
"I see." Jimin murmurs, ducking his head a little in embarrassment. He can feel Yoongi's weighted stare on him, finds himself shying away from it.
"I always thought over how interesting it was, y'know? But you never stuck around anywhere in town for long so I couldn't strike up a conversation-"
"Well I try not to linger." Jimin remarks, a little more bitter than he means to sound."The others don't really like it." By others, he means the majority of the town.
The mans expression sobers a little at that."Ah, I've noticed. I'm sorry about that..."
Jimin shrugs."Comes with the rep I guess." He scratches at the back of his neck, suddenly feeling awkward. I should leave.
"Still, it's not right."
Jimin hums, shoots a glance at Yoongi and finds the mans eyes already on him, gaze questioning. He sighs, resigns himself to what he's about to do. He'll find out sooner or later anyway.
"You really don't recognise me?"
"Don't let the supposed fame get to your head, fuck." The man remarks, crossing his arms. He narrows his eyes at Jimin, assessing. "Who are you then? Some famous idol hiding out in a small town?"
Jimin tries not to blush at the thought of Yoongi thinking he's an idol, his insides practically melting.
Joon snorts from where he's standing, shaking his head. "Hyung, Jimin's our resident uh...well I don't know what you'd call it actually."
"Clairvoyant, I guess." Jimin murmurs, scratching at the back of his neck.
"Yeah, that." The man nods.
Yoongi huffs, rolling his eyes."What the fuc-"
"He talks to the dead, Yoongi."
Silence falls across the garage.
Jimin swallows, throat suddenly dry as he straightens up. When he shoots a look at Yoongi the other mans staring right at him, lips parted in what Jimin presumes is shock.
"To answer your earlier question." Jimin starts, voice soft. He doesn't bother to stop the sad smile that curves at his lips.
"Yes, I've got a hell of a lot of enemies."
"He's so rude. You wouldn't believe the things he said to me Tae, the way that he teased me-"
"Teased, huh? Kinky."
"Please don't." Jimin whines."Seriously, he made fun of my looks, said I looked seventeen-"
A snort bubbles past Taehyungs lips and Jimin swats at him, annoyance flaring. "Yah! Kim Taehyung."
"I'm sorry." His friend remarks, holding his hands up. He's pushed up against Jimin on the sofa, the two of them ignoring a late night movie playing in the background as they bicker. "It's just funny."
"No it isn't. Min Yoongi is a little shit, and now I'm supposed to save his life." Jimin grits, crossing his arms. "I can't believe this."
"What are you even supposed to save his life from?" Taehyung asks."An exploding car? A rolling tire?"
Jimin shrugs."Seungwoon won't tell me. Whatever it is, I'm not feeling quite so generous after being spoken to like a-"
"Relax, Jiminie." The redhead soothes, shooting out a hand to thread his fingers through Jimins hair. Jimin sags a little at the contact, some of his nerves smoothening out. "It sounds like he's just a little hard to talk to. Like you said, the quicker you get this done, the quicker you can ignore this guy forever. Well, unless you want to fuc-"
"Taehyung, I swear to god."
"Alright!" He snorts, pulling Jimin in closer. "I'll stop hinting that you're obviously insanely attracted to this Min Yoon-ow!" He rubs at his side, glaring at Jimins offending elbow.
"I am not attracted to Min Yoongi. I barely know the guy." You don't have to. A voice somewhere in the back of his head screams, and he promptly shuts it up. Now is really not the time.
Taehyung sighs, lolls his head back against the sofa cushions. "You're going to have to though, if you want to keep him safe."
Jimin winces. "Yeah." He rakes a hand through his hair, feeling restless all over again."It would help if I knew what from."
"Hell knows, from what I've heard he's a pretty secluded guy, has stuck to himself ever since he moved here last year. He already knew Kim Namjoon, so they've been shacked up since he got here."
Namjoon, must be 'Joon's' full name.
"Makes you wonder why he's escaped to a small town though, huh?"
Jimin casts his friend a long look, apprehension fizzling in his chest. "Yeah...it does."
"Usually people want to get out, y'know?" The redhead continues, gazing up at the ceiling."Which makes me wonder..."
"Tae..." Jimin murmurs, not liking where the conversations going. His friend pays no attention, sits up straighter to level Jimin with a long, dark look.
"Why do people run away to small towns, Jimin-ah?"
Jimin swallows, the sound audible within the small sanctity of their apartment. He sucks in a shaking breath, a chill rolling over his skin.
"To hide, Tae."
He drifts off to sleep that night only when the early hours of the morning arrive, a deep blue bleeding into ink black past the glass of his window. His heart beats with a newfound anxiety, and his dreams are plagued with sharp eyes and gruff, cutting remarks.
It's a misty evening, when he gets the call to come and collect his car. For some reason he's expecting the voice on the other end of the line to belong to Hoseok, or even perhaps Namjoon.
He's straightening up though, the second that a rough, gravelly voice bleeds out of his phone speaker.
"Uh, t-that's me." He stutters, almost tripping over his own feet.
"It's Yoongi, from the mechanics." The voice continues, the low drawl of it sending shockwaves up Jimins spine. "Your car's ready, kid. You can come and pick it up whenever you're free."
Jimin huffs into the mic, unable to stop his agitation from flaring up. He really is insufferable. "Kid, really?" He questions, voice tight."Even after-"
"Like I said, I call them how I see them." Yoongi answers, sounding nothing but relaxed. Jimin practically glares into the phone, ignoring the faint flush that's already starting to pinken the apples of his cheeks.
"Whatever." He gripes. "I'll be there soon, old man."
He hangs up before Yoongi can answer, a childish satisfaction bubbling in his chest.
"You're really going to screw this up."
Jimin scoffs, raking a hand through his hair in an attempt to smoothen out the wind tussled knots. "Excuse me, atleast I'm trying-"
"All you've done so far is insult him. You've gotta do better than tha-"
"What do you expect from me?" He questions, aware that he probably looks crazy as he scuttles past a couple of school kids loitering outside the corner shop. Nothing unusual there. He turns the corner, ignoring the faint whispers that follow. "The guy's impossible. Besides, he insulted me first."
Seungwoon's voice is worn in his ears, makes him wince a little from how used it sounds. "Look, he doesn't open up easily, but that doesn't mean you should give up."
"I'm not giving up." Jimin huffs. "Everyone that comes to me, I help them, alright? I'm going to help you."
"It's not me that I'm worried about." Seungwoon sighs, the sound of it empty.
Jimin hums."I know, but you do realise that I'm really no special ops agent? Nor am I a hero. If you don't give me a little more information then I've got no idea how I'm going to help your friend."
Jimin falters in his steps, frowning."Why not?"
"....Because I'm worried that If I do, you won't help anymore."
The line between Jimins brow deepens, and the weight in his chest only increases.Taehyung's warnings ring loud and clear in his ears, and he suddenly feels very, very vulnerable.
"Just who is Min Yoongi?" He murmurs, more so to himself than Seungwoon.
"You'll find out at some point."
"If I'm going to find out then what's the point in hiding it from me now?" He sulks.
There's silence for a long moment, though Jimin can still feel Seungwoon's presence, like the spirit's thinking over something, mulling the words over before speaking them.
"Because I'm hoping that you'll trust him enough by then." He finally says, voice laced with a certain conviction that has the ball in Jimin's chest tightening just slightly.
He closes the link after that, wanting a moment to himself. He really has no idea what he's getting himself into, but if the hard, weighted lump settling just below the base of his throat is anything to go by, then he has every right to worry.
The garage is surprisingly quiet when he arrives, the usual carcophany of metal and wood nowhere to be found, instead replaced by a lull of welcome silence. There's a faint, low murmur of music bleeding from speakers somewhere as he slips through the open door, some fast paced rap with a good beat to it. It surprisingly soothes Jimin, despite the tension in the air that he only associates with a certain blonde mechanic.
Even from the entrance he can see the tuft of hair bent over a pretty impressive Chevrolet, completely oblivious to Jimin's entrance.
"That a nineteen seventy-seven Chev Camero?" He breaks the silence in the only way he knows how, mildly surprised at how smooth he sounds. So far he was only used to bumbling over stuttered words around the mechanic.
Yoongi barely flinches at his words, the man straightening up and peering over his shoulder. Messy blonde locks fall into lidded, sable eyes and Jimin has to faintly remind himself to catch his breath. Really, he should be used to the intense, penetrative stare the elder seems to constantly wear like a shield. As he watches Yoongi turn and wipe his hands on his overalls, the veins in his arms twitching, he thinks that the idea of getting used to any part of the other man is downright laughable at this point.
"So you know how to spot a good car when you see it too, hm?"
Jimin snaps his gaze from Yoongi's grease grazed arms to his face, tilting his head. "Is it yours?" He questions, peering over the mans shoulder at the vehicle. It really is a beauty, all sleek angles and sharp edges. It's oil slick black coating expands the expanse of it, liquid pools of it that seem to lure the admirer in. Its adorned by a couple of faded, ochre stripes along the hood and back. Striking, really.
Jimin sucks in a breath, impressed.
Yoongi nods, though Jimin barely catches it. "Was a gift, came to me in pretty bad shape though. Fixed it up and got it running real good." The low drawl of his voice is magnetising, and when Jimin's gaze flits back to the blonde, he's a little surprised to find his eyes already scanning him from beneath that dense thicket of lashes.
"You did real well then." Jimin murmurs, only slightly embarrassed at the wavering timbre of his voice.
There's another one of those moments between them, silence tinted with the faintest voice of rap as it sputters out of the speakers and filters through the dust littered air. A slow warmth seems to buzz beneath Jimins skin, spills alongside the blood in his veins and ripples somewhere close to his heart.
It's Yoongi who breaks it, yanking his cap off of his head to run a large hand through knotted, blonde strands as he turns on his heel and skirts past the Camero. "Your car." He murmurs, gesturing for Jimin to follow. Jimin does without hesitation, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste to reach the elder in time. He ignores the smirk that tugs at Yoongi's features, instead focusing on not tripping over again as he scoots past several car parts and busted, strewn about toolboxes.
There's something niggling at him though, a somewhat dark thought that hasn't really left his mind ever since the last time he spoke to the mechanic. He toys with it in his head, decides that his curiosity wins out as he follows Yoongi towards what looks like a backroom. He notes absentmindedly that Yoongi seems to be the only one working today, and uses the knowledge that noone else is about to judge him to propel his courage forward, he parts his lips.
"So...you're not scared of me?" His words break through the lull of silence, almost offensive to it. For a moment he expects Yoongi to curse at him, or perhaps not even answer at all.
Instead, he scoffs.
"Why should I be? You're hardly the reincarnation of lucifer, are you?" His voice fills the space, booming almost.
Jimin frowns. Alright then... "But-"
The mechanic glances over his shoulder then, gaze unwavering as it lands right on Jimin. "Firstly, I don't know you, right? And secondly, people in small towns are notorious for talking shit. Even if I did believe that you could somehow chat with the dead, I wouldn't believe eighty percent of what circulates around here."
"You...you don't believe me?"
Normally he'd be extremely angry over the fact that someone thought of him as a liar, but right now he's a mix of a little annoyed and mildly amused. Of course he's a sceptic, I shouldn't have been surprised.
Yoongi stops in his tracks then, right in the middle of a narrow walkway littered with car tyres and broken parts. He turns to level Jimin with a long look, head cocked to the side and bottom lip dragged between his teeth. Jimin tries not to falter under the stare, hands curling into delicate fists by his sides as Yoongi does a full sweep of his face, eyes to nose to lips then back again. He doesn't miss the way he lingers on his lips, though chooses to ignore it, invested instead in whatever the mechanic's about to say.
"You're really telling me, that you can talk to dead people?" Yoongi questions, that low drawl almost sinister in the faded light of the garage.
"Ever since I could remember." Jimin answers, resolutely despite the burning beneath his skin. Sometimes he wonders if it's shame.
"And people just believe you?"
Jimin shoves his balled up fists into his pockets, hiding the slight shake. "It's kind of hard to combat a seven year old asking the old man down the street why his hands are covered in his wifes blood two hours before the police even found her body."
The mechanics eyes widen a little at that, lips parting just slightly. "You-"
"You don't have to believe me, Yoongi-ssi. I don't expect you to. If anything, it makes a nice change not being viewed as some kind of monster." He draws in a laboured breath, looking down at his feet. "I suppose I was just surprised that you didn't seem to treat me any differently at all.Not even in a way that suggested you thought me a freak for making something so strange up."
"I'm quiet." Is Yoongi's answer, quick and firm. Jimin glances up, a dip forming between his brows.
The blonde rolls his eyes, elaborating. "I like to keep to myself. What goes on in your life is none of my business, right?"
Jimin's, well....he's stunned.
He's used to recieving wide eyed, fearful glances and watching people stray as far as him from possible. He's used to people crossing to the other side of the road so that they won't have to cross paths with him, and furtive, sneering whispers behind his back whenever he walks into a store or round a street corner.
He's used to people interrogating him again and again, blind, numbing questions asked of him countlessly and insincerely.
What he's not used to, is Min Yoongi.
"You..what?" He starts, voice catching a little. Yoongi simply cocks a brow, as though waiting for him to settle down. There's a flicker of something in those pools of ink , amusement perhaps, but Jimins far too busy almost having a breakdown to really notice.
"I'm not one of those narrow minded townsfolk, kid. You don't have to worry about me trying to sacrifice you to save the soul of the town or some shit like that."
Something wells up in Jimin, leaves a lump in his throat and his eyes glazing over. He's suddenly transported back to that sunlit classroom twelve years ago, Taehyung's fingers linked with his and beam of a smile right on him.
"You're not a monster, Jiminie."
Sometimes he hates how easily he gets worked up. He blinks away the tears he knows are trying to well up, shaking his head rather incredulously at the man before him. The low light of where they stand casts shadows across Yoongi's face, making those obsidian irises seem all the more weightless.
Instead of bawling on the floor like he wants to, (he decides that he doesn't quite want to terrify Yoongi with that) he schools his wavering voice into something more nonchelant, screwing his face up into an expression of mock distaste.
The blonde smirks at that, catching Jimin slightly off guard. "Sorry, force of habit now."
Yoongi snorts, the sound somehow pleasant. "Don't worry, it's reserved just for you." The man remarks. Jimin's about to protest, cheeks full on flaming, when the man has the audacity to wink.
Yoongi turns on his heel and saunters off down the walk way, not even bothering to check he's being followed. The cheek of it. Jimin hesitates for a moment, feet seemingly stuck to the floor as he tries to wrap his mind around what the hell just happened.
He's suddenly extremely thankful that he didn't leave the link open. Something tells him that Seungwoon wouldn't keep his mouth shut over that.
"You coming?" Yoongi's call breaks through his internal dilemma, and he starts, eyes wide.
He coughs around a strained reply for all of a second, before he's picking his feet up and jogging off down the walkway towards the mechanic. He doesn't bother to look him in the eye as he takes him the rest of the way to his car, but he does have the decency to hide the flush on his cheeks when Yoongi downright snickers at his poor attempts of covering up the squeak in his voice.
That night when he opens up the link, he's none too surprised to hear the barely restrained amusement in Seungwoon's voice as he asks Jimin how it went.
"You know, you're awfully chipper for a dead guy." He retorts, humilation burning his cheeks.
"Being used to being dead kinda does that for you." Comes the swift reply.
Jimin hums, though stores the information away for later.
"I...You've actually gone mad."
Taehyung's voice is strained, when he joins Jimin in the carpark outside their apartment block. There's a thick hint of amusement there though, something in which Jimin is far more used to from his usual partner in crime.
"Tae, it's the only way-"
"I think you might be a little wrong there, Jiminie."
Jimin huffs, the force of his breath blowing his fringe from his eyes as he leans against the side of his car and peers up at his friend. He's sweating a little, the sun beating down uncomfortably against the back of his neck.
It's been a week and a half since he last saw Yoongi, and between Seungwoon's incessant orders and the confusing state of his own heart (and mind), he's at a loss of how to find his way back to the mechanics with a good enough excuse to actually be there and annoy the elder man.
Well, he was at a loss.
Now, as he stands by his car, small penknife dangling between his fingers, it's with a pleading, embarrassed look that he asks Taehyung to help him.
"Come on Tae, please. It's the only excuse I have for just hanging around the garage."
"I mean, you could just turn up. I don't think this Yoongi will mind that you have a huge, gaping cr-"
"Don't finish that sentence, you cretin." He jabs the knife in Taehyungs direction, pout working it's way onto his lips. "I'm not going to just turn up and hang around. If they don't already think I'm a freak they will then."
And for some reason, the idea of Yoongi thinking that...it makes him uncomfortable. In fact, it hurts. But I'll confront that later.
"And so you want me to help you slash your tire." Taehyung states, cocking a brow.
"It's only one!" Jimin whines, sinking against the warm metal. "It's the only option, really. Besides, it could happen. Everyone here hates me enough to do so."
His friend snorts, the sun casting his red hair into some kind of flame fueled halo. "Not without fearing that you'll put a curse on them, they don't."
Jimin sighs. "Semantics. Now help me slash my own tire. I hurt my wrist moving the sofa earlier after you kicked the t.v remote underneath it during one of your impromtu Zumba practices-"
A tanned hand whips out to grasp the handle of the knife before Jimin can even finish his sentence, Taehyung's expression amusingly dark as he clasps it in a tight hold and levels Jimin with an embarrassed look. He glances over his shoulder, brows knit together.
"Alright, just keep your bloody voice down you shifty fucker."
Jimin beams, stepping away from the car. "Thanks, pal."
His friend only grumbles, eyeing up the tire warily. "Jungkook is going to leave the both of us."
Jimin snorts, crossing his arms."Fat chance."
He watches as Taehyung bends and lifts the knife, gaze sharpening as he picks his spot. Jimin doesn't miss the excitement crossing his features, nor the little smirk that quips at his lips. He's always had a quirk for committing minor criminal offenses, Jimin ponders. He should probably confront that.
"Anytime now Tae."
"Park Jimin I swear t-"
"You're kidding me."
Jimin presses his lips together, gaze directed at the concrete at his feet as he shakes his head. Beside him, Taehyung's shoulders shake a little with barely contained laughter. Hoseok's leaning against the brick wall of the garage, watching them with wide, bright eyes that seem to just know.
Yoongi looks between them all, brow cocked as though he's trying to figure out if he's found himself wrapped up in some weird kind of prank, and Jimin suppresses the urge to elbow Taehyung in the ribs.
The link with Seungwoon fizzles somewhere in the back of his mind, and he wants to shout because it's not fair, I'm making myself look like an idiot.
"So someone just ...slashed it?" The mechanic questions, gaze dipping back to the damaged tire. He looks almost offended, and Jimin has to hold back a little quip because Min Yoongi is not cute, no way.
(Except he kind of is.)
"I can't believe it either, Yoongi-ssi." Taehyung intervenes, voice obnoxiously loud as he slings an arm around Jimins shoulders and pulls him in closer. Yoongi's eyes follow the movement, narrow and guarded, and Jimin has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from hissing at Taehyung to just shut up.
He really regrets letting his friend accompany him to the garage, flattening tire squealing across the floor the whole way to the outskirts of town.
"Like I said." Jimin mumbles, eyes rooted to the floor like it's all he's got on his side. "Lots of enemies."
Taehyung scoffs next to him, and Yoongi simply hums. Hoseok continues to smirk from where he's standing, and Jimin really wishes his powers included opening up vortexes that he could just fall through.
"Right, well park it inside and I'll take a look I guess." The blonde huffs, stepping back to jab a thumb over his shoulder.
"Oh, but hyung-" Hoseok starts, kicking off of the wall. "Aren't you modifying Choi Jooyoung's engine right now? I can take a loo-"
"No it's alright, it shouldn't take long anyway." Yoongi quickly presses, waving him off. Hoseok's features warp into an even bigger grin at that, if even possible, and Jimin looks between the two , confused.
"Oh, it's alright if you can't-Ow!" He yelps, rubbing at a spot in his ribs and shoots a glare up at Taehyung. The redhead's looking at him like he's a fool, brows raised as he jerks his head towards Yoongi.
Remember what you came here for, you idiot.
Jimin swallows, turns back to shoot Yoongi a small, nervous smile. "I mean, if it won't take too long..."
"It's fine." The blonde shrugs. He's already heading off in an unknown direction, calling over his shoulder as he goes. "Go ahead and park, kid."
Jimin glowers, shoots Taehyung another death glare as he snickers at the nickname.
"You go ahead, I'll chat with Hoseok-ssi about..um, wrenches for a bit." His friend sings, already shouldering past Jimin to go and collar an amused Hoseok for a while. The elder seems to fall into conversation with the man easily, and not for the first time Jimin's left in awe of his friends ability to charm everyone wherever he goes.
He's quick enough to go ahead and park his car inside, letting the cool air from the ac roll across his skin and make his hairs stand on end as he gets out and closes the door behind him. He leans up against it, arms crossed as he thinks over Yoongi's words.
"It's alright, shouldn't take long anyway." Sure, the statement seems blase anough, but was it really? Changing a tire might not be a full bodied car operation, but it still took up time, and if Yoongi already had a customer then why would he want to break away from that when Hoseok could've easily done it?
He sighs, pushing the thought aside. It shouldn't matter much anyway. He probably just want's to get rid of me as soon as possible.
A series of rattling and metal scratching against rubber drags him from the recesses of his mind, and he pushes off of the car as he spots Yoongi striding towards him, cap pushed backwards on his head as always and a huge, rubber tire in his grasp. He drops the thing to the floor like it weighs nothing (totally not hot, at all) , and shoots Jimin a short look before he's heading over to the side and dragging a huge toolbox from one of the shelves. Jimin tries not to pass out at the sight of lean, rippling muscles, and instead redirects his gaze to the open doorway, eyeing the forest outside on the other sight of the road.
Judging from the light snort that he hears somewhere behind him, he's not quite so sure that he succeeds.
"I heard people talking about you last night."
Jimin turns at that, glancing over his shoulder at the blonde. Yoongi's on the floor, currently applying wheel wedges under the car in order to lift it a little. His teeth are grit as he works,the tension in his arms unmistakable.
He cocks his head, brow dipping towards his hairline. "Oh?"
"They have a lot to say."
Jimin nods, moving to lean against the counter running alongside the room. "They always do."
"They..." Yoongi fiddles with the wheel cover, dislodging the thing and turning it over in his palms. "They say you're a bad omen."
The laugh that escapes Jimins lips at that is bitter. "It's nearly halloween, they always say that."
"What does that even mean?" The mechanic grimaces, movements rythmatic as he works.
"It means that I'm this towns version of a scary bedtime story." Jimin murmurs, voice light despite the connotations. "I'm what keeps children up at night."
Yoongi pauses at that, shooting a look over his shoulder. "Small towns...so dramatic."
Jimin snorts. He feels a little easier, noting that the tension set in Yoongi's shoulders isn't there anymore. Don't question it.
"Is that why you live on the outskirts? Wanna stay as far from us as possible?"
The other man shrugs, eyes back on the wheel. He loosens the nuts, movements quick as he reaches back and places the jack under the wheel to properly lift it. "Something like that."
"Well.." Jimin breathes, tilting his head back to stare up at the ceiling. Somewhere out back he can hear Hoseok and Taehyung, laughing over something stupid perhaps. Probably him.
"I suppose its better than sticking your nose into others business."
The answering grin that Yoongi shoots him over his shoulder is enough to have Jimin wanting to squeal a little.
"Says the guy that goes around talking to deceased peoples loved ones for a living."
Jimin squawks, indignant. "Hey! Not my fault."
A snort escapes the blondes lips. "I'm not judging."
"Does that mean you believe me then?" Jimin questions, ducking forward a little, hands entwined behind his back.
Yoongi shoots him a look."I don't know what I believe. Either way, I don't really care."
Jimin pauses at that. Refreshing, really. "Really?" He asks, voice wavering a little. The mechanic seems to sense this, as he turns, brows cocked and hair falling into his eyes.
"You're just Jimin." He mumbles, the conviction strong enough. "Isn't that enough?"
A certain warmth that he's becoming far too used to experiencing around Yoongi blooms beneath his skin again, and he presses his lips together, fighting (and failing) to hold back a smile.
"Ah..." He scratches at the back of his neck, fingertips tickling the hairs there."Well..thankyou."
Yoongi must read his sincerity, as the little smile he's currently sporting morphs into something softer, sweeter.
"Even if you are annoying."
Jimin pouts. "Way to ruin it." He crosses his arms, glaring down at the amused sparks that seem to dance behind onyx irises.
There's a lull in conversation eventually, Jimin quietly watching as Yoongi works. The elder's movements are deft, recited as though he's done it a thousand times before. He probably has.
"How long have you been a mechanic?" He asks without thinking. It takes a minute for the other man to respond, engrossed in his work.
"I've always tinkered with cars and bikes. Someone I looked up to owned a garage, let me work there every summer as a teen."
That prompts a short snort of laughter. "Of course not. He'd just pay me in food and cd's. Was worth it."
"I see." Jimin hums, thinking about how to ask his next question. He decides that there's not really an easy way around it, and instead just goes for it. "If small towns so dramatic then, what brings you here?"
He catches it then,the way that Yoongi's shoulders stiffen, the way the tension in the room grows stiff, weighted. It makes Jimin want to fidget, suddenly sure he's about to get cursed out or told to leave.
"Small towns are good for some things." Yoongi eventually states, voice low. Jimin's transported back to a series of nights ago, curled up on the sofa with Taehyung.
"Why do people run away to small towns, Jimin-ah?"
"You...you must be good friends with Namjoon-ssi then. And Hoseok-ssi."
The other man nods, a small smile curving at his lips at that."They helped me out, alot. Saved me even." He remarks, uncharacteristically soft. "I owe them alot."
Jimin hums, appreciative of someone that knows the value of friends. "I often think that about Tae and Kook. Even if they are impossible to deal with eighty percent of the time."
"I noticed." Yoongi states."The redhead seemed rather....uh-"
"Overbaring?" Jimin cuts in, lights up at the way Yoongi chuckles. "Yeah that's Tae. We've been best friends since I was ten. He's basically my brother at this point. After my mother died and his dad moved back to Seoul, we moved in together. I suppose I was lucky."
Yoongi sends him a long, assessing look for a moment, words seemingly on the tip of his tongue.
"If you're going to ask me if I spoke to my mother when she died, the answer's no." He says, leaning up against the side of his car as he looks down at Yoongi. He earns a slight glare for his cheek, though the elder doesn't tell him to move so he decides it can't be that serious.
"She didn't have any unfinished business, you see. I'm glad though, that I didn't have to hear her like that."
I sure do miss her though.
"Losing someone is hard." Yoongi rumbles, words almost stringing together. "I lost a good friend just over a year ago, still carrying that with me."
Jimin swallows. Seungwoon? A faint wave of guilt rolls through him, and he grimaces. What would Yoongi say if he knew that Jimin was talking to his deceased friend each night? If he knew that Seungwoon had asked Jimin to save his life?
He stamps the thoughts down, schools his voice. "I'm sorry to hear that."
The man below him simply shrugs, expression one of concentration as he works. "It's life, right? Doesn't mean it hurts any less, but it's life."
"Yeah, you're right about that." Jimins gift has made him desensitised to most of it he supposes. Perhaps it's a bad thing, perhaps not.
"Life has a way of screwing with you."
Jimin frowns at that. "You-you sound like you speak from experience."
The tense set of Yoongi's shoulders is back, enough to have Jimin feel like he's suffocating almost within the small room of the garage. He swallows, tries to think of another topic-
"I suppose I do." The blonde murmurs, gaze still on the wheel before him , unwavering, careful. When he redirects it to Jimin, there's something simmering beneath the surface, something weighted, dangerous.
"You're not the only one who see's ghosts, Jimin."
Jimin knows that Yoongi doesn't mean it literally, knows that he doesn't, in fact see ghosts like him, but something about it, the solemn way in which it's said....it has Jimin freezing in spot, throat going dry.
Yoongi exhales, the sound almost tortured as he levels Jimin with a low, testing look. "You can call me hyung."
Part of Jimin screams. The other part, it merely watches Yoongi like he's grown another head. "You..you mean it?"
The blonde nods, eyes glinting. "I'm growing tired of Yoongi-ssi. It makes me feel like an old man."
Jimin pouts, giddiness overriding the heavy weight that'd settled around them during their previous conversation. "Not fair. You already called me a kid once today."
Yoongi only smirks."You need to up your game the-shit." The sharp exhale of a curse makes Jimin flinch, and he frowns as he watches the blonde bring his hand to his mouth, movements jerky.
"What happen-oh." He winces, alarm colouring his voice at the sight of the semi-large cut spanning along the back of Yoongi's hand. "You cut yourself-"
"No it's not! It could get infected!" Jimin's brows dip in protest. He's dealt with enough minor scrapes and cuts in the past to know. As well as being able to talk to the dead, the world had thought it hilarious to bestow upon him the gift of clumsiness. He was far more used to patching himself up on a daily basis than most.
Yoongi parts his lips again to wave him off, swiping at the long strip of blood that rolls down his wrist and forearm, and Jimin scowls, dipping immediately to grab at the mans hand and tug it towards him before he even has a chance to think about what he's doing.
"Wait-" Yoongi begins, startled, only to have the younger shush him, a pout working away at his lips. He winces as he turns Yoongi's hand over in both of his own, concerned at the amount of blood against the stark white of his skin.
What an idiot.
"Wow, you really did a number on yourself here, huh?" He frowns, turning the pale hand every which way. The blood casts an awful shine against the sunlight that filters through the windows, and Jimin swallows back another wince as he shakes his head. "You need to fix this up right away, it's deeper than I expected! I can't believe..."
He finds himself trailing off as his gaze falls upon the blonde. Yoongi's looking up at him with wide, observing eyes. His lips are parted just slightly, as though he'd been about to say something but had stopped himself short, and he's seemingly frozen almost, the shock carved into his features unmistakable.
Jimin swallows, stomach fluttering, and promptly loosens his grasp on Yoongi's hand. He doesn't let go of it completely, finds that he's almost afraid to for a reason that he can't grasp. Yoongi's hand feels warm in his own, sends something electric-like tingling along the surface of his skin.
What are you doing? It's a miracle he hasn't punched you in the throat and yelled at you to clear off yet.
"Um.." He murmurs, the words coming out softer than he means them to. His mind seems to draw up on a blank , sensibility evading his clutches, and so he makes the mistake of simply letting his mouth wander.
"Do you have a first aid kit?" He almost whispers, as though speaking any louder will shatter the air around them. The sun feels uncomfortably warm on his cheek, (atleast he tries to convince himself that the sudden warmth is a product of the light that spills in through the glass) and the dust in the air tickles at his nose.
Yoongi continues to gape at him for a moment, before he jolts slightly, glances to his left at the shelves above the counters. "Top shelf, to your right." The words come out strained, and Jimin has to press his lips together to hold in something as he reluctantly releases Yoongi's hand and drags his feet over to the shelves. He scans them, ignoring the eyes burning into his back, and all but yanks the red box off of the shelf, eyeing the FIRST AID proudly planted across the surface in thick, white font.
What's going on with you? Why are your hands shaking?
He stifles a huff and moves to kneel infront of Yoongi, suddenly keen on avoiding all eye contact as he pops the box open and gently grasps Yoongi's hand in his own again. He sets about cleaning the wound, a rythm to his touch that shows how used to the situation he is. The whole time his mind seems to scream at him, panic settling in a little at his strange reaction to the man sitting infront of him. They're so close that Jimin can feel the warmth emnating from the elders body, and on more than one occassion he has to stop himself from leaning in closer.
"You didn't have to." A voice slowly interrupts his thoughts, and he looks up through the curtain of his fringe, brows furrowing.
"What do you mean?" You're injured, I couldn't just leave it.
The mechanic uses his free hand to scratch at the back of his neck, lashes fluttering as he studies Jimin. "It's just a cut. I could have done it."
"It's fine." Jimin shrugs."I'm an expert when it comes to this stuff."
The look on Yoongi's face changes then, contorts to something sadder, almost disappointed. "Used to injuries?" He asks, and Jimin knows what he's getting at. He's assuming that Jimin got bullied alot growing up, and whilst he's right, he's not entirely.
"The thing about people fearing you is that the bullying becomes emotional, rather than of physical." He murmurs, somehow keeping his voice soft. "Them being too afraid to come near me meant that they wouldn't dare entertain the thought of touching me either."
There's silence for a moment, and then, "I've found that the emotional hurt does the most damage."
Jimin stiffens. The anticeptic he's clutching almost slips from his grasp, and his other hand stills over Yoongi's hand. It's not something he talks about often, hasn't done so in a long time in fact. Taehyung and Jungkook are his only friends after all, and they already know about the sleepless nights and early hours of the morning spent curled into a ball on the bathroom floor, tear streaked cheeks and the hushed mantras of his deepest fears, spoken into the abyss with a frightening clarity.
I'm not worth anything, never have been.
I'm a freak. I'm sick.
What if noone ever see's me the way in which I want to be seen?
Not for the first time, he finds himself shaken by Min Yoongi. What is it ? Behind that nonchelant, distant facade , just who is he?
He clears his throat, aware that he's being watched, and puts the anticeptic back in the box by his side. "Yeah, me too."
He finishes patching Yoongi up with a plaster, wrapping the material around the cut and slowly letting go of his hand. He ignores the faint jolt at doing so, and eases back a bit, still sitting on his knees.
Yoongi drops his gaze long enough to examine Jimins handiwork, before he's slowly standing with a gruff exhale. Jimin half expects the man to walk off, or to tell him to leave for practically forcing him to let Jimin grab at his hand, but he's shocked to find a plaster-less hand suddenly nudged infront of his face, palm turned up.
Jimin squints, craning his neck to look up at the mechanic in a moment of confusion. Yoongi's already watching him of course, brows cocked and an expectant look etched into his features. For the first time Jimin takes note of the faint pink splotches colouring the apples of the mans cheeks, and can't help the small smile that curls at his lips as he slowly, places his hand in Yoongi's and lets the elder tug him up with an unsurprising amount of stregnth.
The warmth of Yoongi's hand lingers even after Jimin reluctantly lets go, the two of them standing in the middle of the garage, sun casting shadows across their features as they seemingly seize one another up. He can practically see Yoongi's gears turning, see him trying to make sense of the man standing before him, and Jimin's sure he appears no different.
Yoongi's a puzzle, Jimin thinks, a riddle that he can't quite get a grasp on.
As he takes in the way that Yoongi's skin bathes in the yellow light cast by the sun, he realises that he wants to understand, he really wants to.
And it's terrifying.
He's about to part his lips, make a stupid joke or something to ease the sudden tension that's closing itself thick around them, but he doesn't reach any further than the thought before the sound of footsteps and his name,called abnoxiously loud, startles the both of them.
He swallows past the ball in his throat and glances over his shoulder just as Taehyung comes bounding through the narrow walkway, only just dodging the broken parts and cables on the floor. He's still smiling annoyingly wide, the usual air of cheek floating about him, though when he spots Jimin and Yoongi, his steps seem to stutter a little, expression faltering just slightly before the smiles back, perhaps darker than before.
Jimin takes the chance to duck away from Yoongi, feeling all too much at once as he lifts a hand to the back of his head to lightly tug on the strands at the base of his neck in an attempt to ground himself. He shifts his eyes to the floor just as Hoseok comes barrelling through after Taehyung, chatter dying on his lips at the suddenly awkward atmosphere.
Thankfully he starts back up though, before Jimin has the chance to properly contemplate the idea of jumping through the open window and dashing for home to avoid a certain mechanics gaze. (And a certain best friends.)
"How's it going, hyung?" Hoseok plants a hand on each hip, studying Jimins car carefully. "Almost done?"
Jimin doesn't look up, though does note the strain in Yoongi's voice as he clears his throat, shuffles back towards the vehicle. "Yeah, just had a minor set back. Shouldn't take long."
Hoseok hums, clearly attempting to rid the room of tension. He leans up against the side of the counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "I was just talking with Taehyung here, turns out he's from Daegu too! Isn't that weird?"
Jimin's head snaps up at the same time as Yoongi's, confused. Yoongi's from Daegu?
"Is that so..." Yoongi drawls, gaze inquisitive. Jimin himself would laugh at the coincidence if it weren't for the suddenly stiff set of Yoongi's shoulders. He frowns, because despite having known Yoongi for all of well, not that long, it's pretty easy to tell when the man has his guard up. For all of his mystery, he doesn't seem all that good at hiding the sudden stress flickering across his features, nor the hard, sharpening glint behind dark eyes.
"It's a small world, huh?" Taehyung cuts, ever cheerful. "Don't look so afraid, Yoongi-ssi, I doubt we've ever met." He chuckles, the sound low, thick. "I think I would've remembered you." There's something...razor sharp, to Taehyung's voice that has Jimin sucking in an unsteady breath. He narrows his eyes. What is he doing?
Hoseok barks out a laugh, and Jimin wants to laugh to, really, but he cant with how tense Yoongi looks, as though the mere thought of Taehyung recognising him means the end of the world.
"I'll bet. Yoongi hyung's ever sunny disposition is a hard one to forget." Hoseok snorts, unknowingly breaking the pressure that'd started to build up under Taehyungs words. Jimin looks listlessly between them, silently thanks Hoseok for shattering the tightness that'd started to spin it's web around the room's occupants. Taehyung's grinning along with the elder, and Yoongi seems to have relaxed just a little, shoulders sinking as he turns to finish up Jimins car. There's still a stiff set to him, his expression far more guarded than it had been ten minutes ago, and Jimin has to physically force himself to drag his own gaze away, taking a moment to right himself as Taehyung and Hoseok's mindless chatter fills the silence of the room once more.
Just like that, the moment passes.
Yoongi finishes up the car soon enough, with the afternoon sun shifting the shadows through the windows and across the room in no time. The garage seems almost alive, the steady sound of Yoongi working and Hoseok and Taehyung larking about filling up it's crevices with a newfound life that Jimin's not used to feeling within the walls of the garage.
When Yoongi's finished he makes a hand signal to suggest that he's heading out front, and as if on instinct, Jimin follows him, ignoring the side eye he recieves from Taehyung in the process. He leaves the men discussing Namjoon and his ever absent fiance, a chef somewhere in the closest city, and fumbles after Yoongi without managing to trip over anything this time.
Yoongi doesn't flinch at the sound of his voice, he must've heard his footsteps. He doesn't bother to peer over his shoulder either, steps unfaltering. "I told you, hyung." He mutters, voice thick with a fatigue that hadn't been there before.
Jimin ignores the jolt in his chest at the elders words and instead hurries closer, until they're both out front by the main counter, Taehyung and Hoseok's voices nothing but background static.
Jimin hums, eyeing the cash register sitting at the counter as Yoongi turns his back on him, leafs through some paperwork. Ah, the reason I followed.
"Um, how much-" He breathes, reaching for his wallet, when a pale, strong hand closes around his wrist.
His gasp dies in his throat and he whips his head up, sparks dancing along the bare skin Yoongi grasps between his fingers. "Yoo-"
"Don't worry about it." Yoongi mumbles, words slurring into one another.
Jimin frowns. That can't be right. "But-"
Yoongi lets go of his wrist, takes a step back to continue going through the papers. "Really, there's no charge."
"You gave me a new tire though." Jimin states, staring stupidly at the back of the mans head. "You provided me a service-"
"Yah, Park Jimin. Do I have to keep repeating myself?" The mechanic crows, not bothering to look up from the counter. There's a slight red tinge to his ears, and the sight of it has something clicking in Jimin.
He's suddenly grinning, unable to stamp down the jittering in his chest as he leans against the counter next to Yoongi, eyeing the man with a cocked brow. "Wow, hyung. Is this payment for patching you up?"
Yoongi doesn't bother to reply.
Something inside eggs Jimin on, pleads with him to tease. "If I do it again will you give me another service for free? Or is this a one time deal-"
"I'm beginning to believe that you can talk to the dead." Yoongi grumbles, eyes narrowing in on him. "Because you're fucking terrible at talking to the living."
There's a beat of silence, and Yoongi's eyes widen for a fraction, as though the words had slipped out when he hadn't meant them to. For a short moment he looks like he's worrying that he's gone to far, until-
Jimin's laughter is almost frighteningly loud as it rings out across the garage. The younger has to lean against the counter for support, folded over the thing with his eyes scrunched shut and lips stretched so wide anyone else would worry they'd crack.
That warmth is back, unexplainable and just a little bit terrifying. He lets it roll over him in waves though, his cheeks aching as he pushes himself up and wipes at his eyes. He focuses in on Yoongi, who's watching him with wide eyes, and parts his lips through a mouthful of laughter.
"You're something else, hyung, huh?" He can't help it, lets his instincts take over for once as he shifts closer to Yoongi, a shit eating grin tugging at his lips.
Yoongi huffs, rooting his eyes back to the paper beneath him like it's the cause of all of his problems. "I was joki-"
"I know, hyung." Jimin murmurs, noting absentmindedly how pleased he sounds. "I'm glad."
The mechanic frowns. "You...you don't mind-"
"I prefer it." Jimin states, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms. "Everyone treads around me so carefully, y'know? Even Tae and Kook, sometimes. I've never had someone joke as...flippantly, as you before."
"Well.." Yoongi huffs, clearly embarrassed. "It's not my fault that you're so easy to wind up."
Jimin rolls his eyes. "Yeah yeah, hyung. Don't worry, I won't give away your secret." He nudges Yoongi's arm as he hears the faint sound of approaching footsteps. He grins, pushing away from the counter and levelling Yoongi a teasing look as he hooks his hands behind his back and rocks on the balls of his feet slightly. He's enamoured by the baffled look that Yoongi shoots him, features scrunching up, though he won't admit it.
"What secret?" The elder questions, line appearing between his brows.
Jimin's grin widens, lashes fluttering as he sidesteps Yoongi. "...You know." He nods.
Yoongi grunts. "I...I know?"
Before he can get another word out Taehyung's barelling round the corner, already hooking an arm around Jimin's neck and sing songing about how it's time to go home and cook for Jungkook. Jimin laughs, lets himself get dragged towards the hallway back towards his car.
"I'll see you around, hyung." He calls over his shoulder. Yoongi's slack jawed, looking absolutely bewildered as he watches Taehyung drag the younger off.
Jimin doesn't bother to hold back the laughter bubbling up his throat as he stumbles under Taehyung's grip.
"Wait-I know what? Yah!"
It's not until they're driving home after, that Taehyung voices his concerns.
"Did you see how he reacted when he found out that I was from Daegu?" The redhead questions, eyes boring into the side of Jimins face as he drives. "He practically froze." He tuts loudly, fiddles with the sleeves of his shirt. A nervous habit.
"It was strange." Jimin hums in assent, eyes on the road. "I thought he'd make a comment, say something y'know?" He's been thinking about it since they got in the car actually, his mind stuck on the stiff set of Yoongi's shoulders, the almost frightened look that'd melted into his features.
"I know you said he was...quiet, but that's something else, Jimin." His friend shakes his head. "Can't you talk to this spirit? Ask it who Yoongi is?"
Jimin sighs, the sound tired. "Already have. Seungwoon refuses to tell me." He hates how bad that sounds, hates the spike of concern that flits across Taehyung's usually delicate features.
"I really don't like this...I have a bad feeling."
"You've already said that Tae. I have one too, but what am I supposed to do?" He huffs, tries to keep the whine from his voice as they pull to a stop at the traffic lights. He watches the light dance from red to amber, fingers tapping absentmindedly on the wheel. Next to them a black, beaten up truck pulls up. The owner's blasting illegible rap, the sound disconcerting at this time of day. Something uncomfortable settles in Jimins gut at the sight of smoke curling around the cab of the truck, lit cigarrette attached to a tattoe'd arm sticking out of the drivers window. He frowns.
The link in his head intensifies, the pressure suddenly so much that he has to grit his teeth, dragging his gaze from the truck with a wince.
The lights flick to green and the truck speeds off without a second to waste, the screech of it's tires painful to the ear. Jimin shakes his head, tramples down the discomfort still buzzing beneath his skin as he turns.
He redirects his thoughts back to Yoongi, mulling over what he wants to say and how. He knows Taehyung won't be impressed, but he can't shake his own thoughts unless he voices them.
"I..." He shakes his head, grips the wheel tighter.
"It's weird but the bad feeling I have...it's not about Yoongi."
Taehyung pauses, shooting him a look from the passengers side. "What?"
"It's more about the situation. Seungwoon said he's in danger right? Someone's going to try to kill him." He tries, voice eerily calm. "Whoever it is, they're who I have a bad feeling about."
"What does that even mean?" Taehyung huffs. "Obviously you would, they're killers. Jimin, Yoongi's hiding something. You can't tell me you haven't noticed that."
"Of course I have! I just...I don't think he's as negative as you think, Tae." He doesn't know why he's so adamant to make Taehyung believe it, especially when he's got no proof. There's just something in him, something begging him to understand that not all is as it seems, and that first impressions aren't always right.
Something pleads with him to listen to Min Yoongi, and he doesn't know why, but he is.
"Oh god." The realisation is evident in the crack of Taehyung's voice.
Jimin sucks in a breath, knows what his friends about to say though still prays he wont-
"You like him. You actually like him."
"I can't believe this!"
"It's not like that!" Jimin practically shouts, head pounding a little. He hasn't opened his connection with Seungwoon all day, and it's starting to have it's effect. "I just think he's a nice guy! You haven't heard him-"
"Jimin. You need to stop for a second, take a look at what you're-"
"I don't like him like that!" He huffs, making a sharp turn. "You barely know him Tae, he's not a bad guy-"
"You barely know him either, Jimin!"
Jimin pauses, a little breathless. He's shaking slightly, something painful throbbing behind his ribcage. He schools his voice, trying to sound somewhat confident as he parts his lips.
"I know I sound crazy Tae, I'm well aware." He exhales, the sound laboured. "But I mean it.I really mean it. You're right, I barely know the guy, and it's foolish to act so irrationally over someone I know almost nothing about, but-"
He risks a glance to his friend, notes how tense Taehyung is, how he refuses to look Jimins way. "But I can feel something. I don't know, it's all messed up, but something in me just knows that I have to listen. Regardless of Seungwoon, I have to follow my own instincts, just like I always have." They haven't lead me astray yet.
Jimin swallows, the sound audible in the small space of the car. "I have a bad feeling too, Tae, and I know it sounds insane but it's more of a bad feeling of the consequences of not trusting Min Yoongi." As he utters the words, he thinks back to the way Yoongi had looked at him earlier as he'd patched him up, the pure shock that'd crossed his features at the prospect of Jimin wanting to help him. Something about that hurts.
Something about that sits too close to home, for Jimin.
He can feel Taehyung studying him, expression drawn, unreadable. "I'm just scared for you, Jimin. The both of you...the way that you were looking at eachother-"
"It was nothing, Tae." Jimin presses. Liar. "I just helped him patch up an injury. I just feel better around him, like I do with you and Kook." No, you feel different. You feel weightless. You're falling. Fast.
"If you say so." Taehyung murmurs, though doesn't sound all too convinced. "Just, just let me stick close, alright? Don't keep me in the dark on this, Jimin. I worry."
Jimin nods. "Like I said, the sooner I finish this, the better."
Taehyung nods. "I just hope you're right about him, the guy looked downright terrified at the prospect of me knowing who he was." He states, the worry in his voice tangible.
Something hard and gravelly settles in Jimins gut, and he finds himself agreeing.
"We all have secrets, Tae."
Some of them darker than others.
"I told you, I'm trying."
"By flirting? Hardly what I asked you to do."
Jimin groans into the fabric of his pillow, a poor attempt to hide his face as his skin erupts into flames that he's more so with than without lately.
"I'm not flirting." He counters, voice muffled. I'm not.
Seungwoon's laughter is almost shrill, an incredulous tone to his voice that suggests he doesn't believe Jimin at all. (Honestly, Jimin can't blame him.) "You know." The spirit attempts to mimic Jimins voice, unnaturally high, "What does that even mean? I asked you to keep an eye on him, not to try and seduce him."
"Well this is how I'm keeping an eye out, and I'm not trying to seduce him!" He shoots up, hair a mess and jumper slipping down one shoulder. "He's hardly the type to welcome new friends so easily, and you're not exactly making things any easier." If you just told me why-
A sigh fills the room. (well, his head) "Look, Jimin. Yoongi doesn't trust so easily,and it's really not something to blame him for. I'll admit, I'm surprised that he's tolerated you this long."
The pout that graces Jimins lips is honestly monumental. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well like you said, he doesn't welcome new friends so well. Yoongi's a guarded guy, always has been."
Jimin frowns at that. "What-"
"I told you, I can't say anything. Not yet."
"You do realise that by not telling me anything you're making my job about five times harder, right?" He huffs. "I don't know who I'm looking for, when they'll be coming, or how they're going to try and kill Yoongi hyung. It's almost an impossible request."
"I know..." Seungwoon's connection flickers for a moment, wavers in and out, and Jimin sighs. This connection is awful.
"All I can do is warn you when the time comes. Yoongi's past is his own, if anyone's going to tell you it should be him."
Jimin hums at that, because despite the trouble he's found himself in, he does agree. Something about the idea of Yoongi indulging Jimin in his past has his chest tightening a little, the man overcome with something he can't quite place.
Will we ever be at that level?
Not for the first time, he catches himself wishing he could know more about Min Yoongi.
I want to learn everything.
He flops back onto his bed, hair fanning out by his face. If he listens real closely to the silence of the apartment he can hear Taehyung snoring from his room, rhythmic sounds that fill up the darkness of the night.
"Don't worry." He murmurs eventually, voice soft. "I'll protect hyung."
There's a moment of silence, and then-
"So you're really calling him hyung now, huh?"
Jimin's whine is probably loud enough to wake Taehyung, and he rolls over to bury his face back into his pillow. "You're ridiculous. What kind of spirit are you?"
A light, almost fond laughter permeates in Jimins ears. "Can't help it, you're easy to rile up."
"So I've heard." Jimin grits, cheeks flaming.
"If it counts for anything, I think Yoongi's taken a liking to you too."
Jimin pauses, chewing on his lower lip mindlessly. "He...he does'nt-"
"Believe me, I've never seen Yoongi so....soft, around someone before. It's quite charming, really."
Jimin doesn't bother looking up from his hiding spot in his pillow, positive he's flushed crimson by now. The prospect of Yoongi acting unusually soft around him...well, it leaves him a little dizzy.
"You get along well."
There's a note of something, something gentle in Seungwoon's choice of words. Jimin hums, pushing away the previous mortification to school his voice into something less-whiney.
"Somehow...he reminds me of myself." He whispers into the dark, as though it's a confession. He supposes, that it is, in a way. He's never been able to say such words, never even entertained the possibility of the idea. He's always had Tae and Kook, of course, but still, there occassions where he truly felt the gap between them. Sometimes it was easy to be reminded that he was different.
But Yoongi? Yoongi didn't make him feel that way.
Something about Yoongi felt familiar, safe, and he almost hated how easily he'd fallen into the way in which they are with one another.
He thinks about the times he's caught Yoongi studying him, the times that obsidian eyes have spent endless seconds peering into his soul, assessing.
Then he thinks of the earth bending smiles the elder had come to train on him, the genuine, sun inducing beams that made Jimin falter in his steps.
"You know..." He starts, voice almost startlingly loud against the otherwise silence. He rolls over, stares up at his ceiling. "Whatever Yoongi's past is, whatever he's done...I won't let him die, alright?" He's almost surprised himself at how resolute he sounds.
Silence greets him, thick with something suffocating.
"Whatever Yoongi used to be...It doesn't matter." He states. As he closes his lids, lets his lashes flutter against the hot skin of his cheekbones, he makes a promise to himself, to Seungwoon. To Yoongi.
"I'll save him."
Over the next few weeks, Jimin continues to visit the old mechanics at the edge of town.
At first it's under the guise of a broken down car, showing up at all different times of the day with either smashed mirrors, windows with cracks in or an exhaust pipe stuffed with suspicious materials. He recieves looks of wonder off of Namjoon and Hoseok each time, as well as long, dubious glares from Yoongi, to which he merely fidgets and blames bad luck or bullies. On the few times that Taehyung accompanies him he has to stop himself from smothering his friend to death at the furtive glances and knowing snorts.
Honestly, at some point it just starts to become embarrassing. There's only so much that can be wrong with his car after all.
The day that Jimin shows up with snapped off windshield wipers and a sheepish smile, Yoongi snaps.
"Yah, what do you do each night you go home, plan a new way to break your own car?"
Jimin had flushed, stuttering something about Taehyung shoving him in the middle of an argument and him falling and-
Honestly, Yoongi had had enough. He'd turned his sharp, feline gaze right on Jimin, and crossed his arms. Jimin had expected a full on verbal beating at that point, had expected the man to finally click that he was insane and ignore him just like the rest.
What he hadn't expected, was Yoongi's light, mistified laugh.
Hoseok and Namjoon had looked up from their own work, having given up on pretending that they weren't gawking, all wide eyed and slack jawed as Yoongi had had to lean against the side of Jimins car to hold himself up. His laughter rang out across the garage, startlingly pleasant and even louder than the speakers that never seemed to stop blasting rap, and Jimin had simply gaped.
"You're one of a kind, aren't you Jimin-ah?"
If Jimin hadn't been confused before, he was then. He'd stuttered, wrang his hands together as an awful flush had lit his cheeks. When he'd raised his gaze to Yoongi's, he'd found the elders surprisingly fond, dark eyes trained right on him.
"I'll fix your car. Just stop fucking breaking it, will you? You can't want friends that desperately."
So as well as incredibly mysterious and wary, it also seemed that Yoongi was incredibly dense. Hoseok had muffled a laugh behind his hand, and Namjoon had outright shaken his head, shooting Yoongi an incredulous look before getting back to the engine he was tinkering with. His gaze had lingered on Jimin for a moment though, knowing and teasing in it's entirety.
Yoongi had fixed his car eventually,muttering under his breath about ungrateful kids as he did so. Jimin had simply let him, still in shock as he screamed at the connection in his head to ease up a little.
He'd returned home that night with Yoongi's orders to visit again, without a miraculous new injury to his car, and Seungwoon's laughter echoing in his ears.
And so after that he found himself just turning up, the rhythmic turning of his engine probably a give a way to the mechanics each day he pulled to a stop outside and slipped out, practically skipping through the ever open garage doors to hop up onto the permanently cluttered countertops and rattle off with Hoseok, or endure long, thought provoking conversations with Namjoon. Most of the time though, he'd simply watch Yoongi, head cocked to the side and almost lost within himself as he took in the way that the elder worked ever so carefully.
Yoongi would ignore him for the most of the day, seemingly a prisoner in his own work as he poured over one cars engine or tinkered with anothers fuel tank. He kept his head down always, unflinching even when Jimin was talking his ear off over nonsense, his soft voice filling the garage out with something other than the grate of metal and the heaviness of rap music.
He could tell that Yoongi was listening, despite being ignored. Sometimes he'd catch the mechanic screw up his features in reply to something Jimin said, or would hear a thinly veiled curse slip from his lips whenever he told Yoongi about common incidents like the cashier at the local store dropping Jimin's change onto the countertop so that he wouldn't have to make contact with his skin.
The best thing though? The best was when Yoongi would laugh. Sometimes Jimin would be telling a funny story or would recount his day, and a small, sputter of a laugh would slip from Yoongi's lips, unable to remain restrained. Yoongi's laughter lit something in Jimin, something that had a funny buzz pouring through Jimins bloodstream whenever it filled the cramped space of the garage. Yoongi would only grumble about Jimin distracting his work, turning back to the car he was working on with red ears and stuttered breathing.
As one week extends into two, Jimin starts to wonder when he began to feel so at home within the tight, dusty confines of the quiet little mechanics on the edge of town.
He's sitting on the hood of Yoongi's Camero, head tipped up toward the sun when the elder finds him.
"Do my eyes decieve me or is there an obnoxious brat currently laying all over my prized Camero?" The blonde cuts, shoving his arms into the pockets of his overalls. He makes no move to yank Jimin off though, something heated flickering behind dark irises as he makes his way over. His overalls are wrapped around his waist this time, torso bare except for a thin, white t-shirt covered in swipes of oil and god knows what else. Jimin decides not to oggle this time, not ready just yet to be caught so obviously checking out the way in which the muscles of Yoongi's torso shift beneath his shirt when he moves.
He's not a complete idiot.
"I'm bored hyung, entertain me." He whines, not even bothering for a proper greeting. Yoongi doesn't seem to mind though, never quite does. He's used to Jimin just showing up at this point, used to their usual rounds of half hearted bickering much to Namjoon and Hoseok's ever present amusement, and nights spent with Jimin practically looming over his shoulder as he watches him work.
"You do realise that I'm supposed to be working, right?" The blonde questions. "Don't you have a best friend to annoy?"
Jimin rolls his eyes."Taehyung's the one that annoy's me. Besides, you said I should visit!"
The elder laughs then, the sound musical. "I did say that. Well I'm almost finished up in there." He jabs a thumb over his shoulder, then seems to hesitate for a moment. He glances at Jimin, parts his lips like he wants to say something.
Jimin watches him deliberate for a moment, brows cocked, and is just about to part his own lips instead to break the silence when-
"Come grab dinner with me after."
Jimin's glad he's sitting down.
"Hyung's treat." Yoongi murmurs. He's looking at the ground, and if Jimin's correct then the tips of his ears are beet red.
He has to forcefully hold in a smirk as he replies. "Wow, that's brave of you."
Jimin laughs, the sound a little breathless. "Being seen with the towns freak hardly helps you out."
The mechanic rolls his eyes. "Jimin, I don't give a fuck."
"I know." Jimin nods, unable to hold back the smile this time. "I guess I'm still just...surprised."
Yoongi hums, unpocketing his hands and turning to head back into the garage. "Good, I'm full of 'em. Now stay on that car, I'll be back in ten minutes."
Jimin laughs, almost surprised himself at how loud it rings out across the space. "I'll just sit here and look pretty then!"
The elder snorts, shooting a long, unreadable look over his shoulder. "I don't doubt it."
Jimin's left gawking even long after he's disappeared through the doors of the garage.
Surprisingly, they take Yoongi's Camero out.
The elder insists on driving, and when Jimin teases that he just wants to show off, he doesn't even bother to deny it. Jimin knows that Yoongi thinks he looks good like this, long fingers wrapped round the leather steering wheel and sharp eyes narrowed on the road ahead. He lets Jimin fiddle with the radio, the younger choosing a station that spills out something soft and crooning, miles apart from the usual rap blasted through the speakers back at the garage.
"Namjoon hyung and Hoseok hyung weren't hungry?" He asks, leaning back against the headrest to study Yoongi.
The elder doesn't look away from the road, simply shrugging as if that's enough. "Nah, Joon's got a long drive back to the city to spend the weekend with Jin hyung and Hoseok's got a date planned with his girlfriend tonight. Good riddance, honestly. They haven't left me alone all day." He says after a moment.
Jimin snickers, shakes his head. "Count yourself lucky that you've got people that care so much about you hyung."
Yoongi hums, though even in the dark of the evening Jimin notes that his smile doesn't quiet reach his eyes. Weird.
"Did you text Taehyung? Let him know where you were headed? I don't want a search sqad sent out for you."
"Of course I did." Jimin snorts. "He's just protective of me. Besides, he wouldn't need a search squad. Just Taehyung is enough." It's not a lie, he's got tonnes of experience after all.
The blonde snorts."I'm sure he doesn't. I don't blame him though, for being protective."
Jimin cocks a brow."Really? He's always been like that, scared that others would hurt me."
Yoongi glances at him then, dark eyes finding his in the dim light of the car. "I won't."
"I know." He murmurs.
Yoongi drags his gaze back to the road, and Jimin releases a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. Sooner than he wishes, they're pulling up outside the local diner, the red, neon light almost blinding as it blinks back at them. Yoongi parks the Camero, all slick and smooth movements, and the both of them slip out of it, footsteps light on the dirt track as they rush out of the nights chill and duck inside of the building.
Artificial light greets them, and Jimin wonders how Yoongi has the cheek to still look good underneath it. He'd changed into a clean white shirt before they'd left, the collar of it so wide that it exposed far too much marble skin and collarbone. He'd left his ripped jeans on and traded his overalls for a leather jacket, shoving a dark beanie over the mop of hair before shooing Jimin into the Camero.
Now, even under fake, plastic lighting and neon fractures he still looks every bit as attractive as ever. Jimin swallows, promptly drags his gaze away and to his own jean clad legs and jumper encased torso. I need to start dressing better.
Yoong nudges him towards a slick booth at the back of the none too busy diner, the kind that elicits a strange squeaking noise when you slide along it's surface. He hopes that neon crimson will shield as much of his flush as possible, and rakes his hand through raven locks in an attempt to stifle the sudden bout of nerves that flare up beneath his skin.
There's a couple sitting just opposite them, young and uncaring in their reactions as they shoot Jimin shifty, uncomfortable glances, and for a moment Jimin's confused, a line forming between his brows until he realises that ah, of course they'd stare.
He shakes his head, ignores the pointed stares emnating from the staff by the registers, and instead turns his attention back to Yoongi. He doesn't bother to confront the thought in the back of his head that for one, simple moment he'd forgotten who he was. Not yet, anyway.
"What made you wanna come out with me, hyung?" He asks instead, voice lilting.
Yoongi looks up from his menu, glasses slipping down his nose a little and Jimin has to internally hold himself back from squealing because he had no idea the man wore them. He seems momentarily shocked, pink lips parting and closing a little, before shrugging.
"I'm hungry, you're obsessed with me so-"
"I am not!" Jimin squeals, bringing his hands to his cheeks as mortification wells up. Oh god, have I been that obvious?
The edges of Yoongi's lips curl up, that ever present smirk making a home across his features, and Jimin suppresses the urge to curse or whine over his impending demise like he wants to.
"It's alright Jiminie, everyone's a little obsessed with me anyway."
Jimin scoffs, leaning across the table."Says the guy who told me to come back."
The elder shrugs. "And?"
Jimin narrows his eyes. "The same man that whined to Hoseok all day when I didn't turn up that one time I had to go to the dentis-"
"Who told you that? Fucking Namjoon-"
Jimin's laughter is ridiculously loud within the small building, but for once he isn't shy of it, doesn't try to hide away and draw as little attention to himself as possible. Yoongi only grumbles, though the little smile that plays at his lips is enough of a giveaway.
Eventually they're interrupted by a short, stout woman, dark curly hair knotted into a bun and shoved up under a cap as she stands tiredly at the end of their table. She extends a low, bored glance at Yoongi, before her gaze flickers to Jimin.
Immediately, as though she's been electrocuted, she shifts back, eyes widening for a fraction before she's coughing into the curl of her fist and focusing all of her attention souly on Yoongi.
It's hardly unusual behaviour for Jimin, used to having Jungkook or Taehyung order for him in order to draw less attention and make things a little easier for everyone involved. Now though, with Yoongi sitting across from him, he can't help but feel a little humiliated as the woman practically jumps away from his side of the table and refuses to look in his direction.
"What can I get you sir?" She asks, as though Jimin isn't even there.Of course.
Yoongi hesitates across from him, a deep line forming between his brows, and Jimin sends him a short, pleading look. Just order, don't worry about it.
The blonde seems speechless for a moment, eyes widening a fraction before narrowing into sharp, deadly slits. He mutters something imperceptable beneath his breath before he's speaking up.
"We'll take two orders of pancakes. Two milkshakes too, chocolate." Jimin cocks his head, surprised at the choice, though definitely not against it. As he watches the woman jot down the order, hand shaking a little, Yoongi merely glares.
"Is that al-"
"Yeah." The mechanic cuts the woman off with a sharp tongue, barely sparing her a glance as she scuttles off down the broken tiles. There's a moment of silence between them, where Jimin notes the exact moment that Yoongi spots the couple still gawking at them and the staff behind the counter watching, hawk eyed. He shrinks into his seat a little, wonders if this is it, if Yoongi will book it now that he's seen how much of a freak Jimin is-
"Jimin-ah, look at me."
He shakes his head, keeps his gaze fixed on the shitty plastic table top in hopes that it'll hide his crumpling emotions-
He almost doesn't feel it at first, the tip of Yoongi's finger so gentle that it simply ghosts the skin under his chin, before applying only the slightest amount of pressure and tipping his head up so that he's forced to meet the elders eyes.
Surprisingly, (or not) they're warm.
"Are you embarrassed?" He asks then, voice almost a whisper. Jimin searches his irises, searches in an attempt to find something, rage, amusement, perhaps even pity (probably the worst), and what he finds instead leaves him a little lost. He can't pinpoint such an emotion, can't even begin to decipher the complexities of what's going on behind Yoongi's eyes.
"A little." He whispers tightly, unsure if he can manage a longer sentence. He presses his lips into a thin line, refuses to shift his gaze from Yoongis. The man slowly removes his fingers from under Jimin's chin, tips barely gracing the skin as he does.
Jimin sucks in breath, lashes fluttering, and fights the suddenly pressing urge to just burst into tears infront of the mechanic. He swallows, forces himself to shift his gaze to the window to his left, where the carpark burns red and the tree's tussle with one another under the wind. It's dark, so dark, and yet Jimin's surrounded by light.
"I should be used to it." He finally remarks, voice wavering almost painfully.
"You shouldn't have to be." Comes Yoongi's reply, swift and cutting. Jimin knows it, knows that it's true yet has never actually believed it.
Not until Yoongi said it.
How did I let one man get to me this much?
He releases a long, drawn out breath, and meets Yoongi's eyes, round and brimming with something soft, something fond.
"You believe me now?" He tries to joke, crossing his arms and leaning against the table top. He feels small, feels heavy. You believe that I'm not like the rest?
Yoongi rolls his eyes then, leans back against the plastic seat and rests his arm at the top, the picture of nonchelance. "I never disbelieved you." He remarks. "I just didn't think anything of it. You don't need to prove anything to me Jimin, whether or not it is true, I simply won't change my opinion on you for it."
"And when you do realise that I can talk to the dead?" Jimin questions, voice a whisper.
"When I do, I still won't give a fuck."
Yoongi clicks his tongue, shifts forward so that he's leaning across the table to study Jimin. "These people can stare all they want. They don't matter.You do."
As he watches Yoongi lean back into the chair again, limbs moving easily and that contagious smile lighting up his features, Jimin realises that he really is fucked.
"Whatever Yoongi used to be...It doesn't matter.." His promise to Seungwoon rings in his ears. "I'll save him."
He laughs into the skin of his palm, eyes scrunching up and chest tightening annoyingly because wow, I've never felt like this before. It's terrifying.
"Yah, what's so funny?" Yoongi gripes from across the table. His face scrunches up, offended, and Jimin only laughs harder, tears springing to his eyes.
"Nothing, hyung." He hums, unable to stop smiling. Really.
He watches Yoongi grumble to himself, that adorable pout clinging to his mouth as he sifts through something on his phone to show to Jimin, and finds himself wondering why he's not so scared of the stares anymore.
Even more so, he wonders once again why he continiously finds himself surprised upon catching people staring, as though he's forgotten why.
As he thinks about it, he realises with pink cheeks and an overwhelmingly fast heart rate, that it's because of Yoongi.
He makes me feel like it doesn't matter.
"Thanks for dropping me off, hyung. You should get home quickly, it's late." His voice is soft, over the crooning of the radio as they pull up outside Jimins apartment complex.
Yoongi merely hums, an air of contentment settling between the two of them as neither moves. They'd spent hours within the confines of the diner, voices way too loud and laughter far too obnoxious as they learnt about one another. Yoongi was guarded, but divulged much more than Jimin thought he would. He'd poured over his school years, over nights out with Namjoon and Hoseok and awkward breaking into abandoned cinema complexes and museums as a teen, eager for adventure in an otherwise boring life.
Like Jimin, he had neither of his parents left. He'd lost them both in an accident as a child, had spent years mourning them until he met Namjoon and learnt that he had to keep going.
Jimin had told Yoongi all about his gift, about the times it'd proven more harmful than useful, and the negative reactions. He'd also spilled on all the positives though, poured over countless cases of spirits that were able to pass on with genuine smiles, of the relief that crossed the faces of those he sought out despite their fear of him. He liked talking to Yoongi, liked how the elder listened despite his hesitation to believe.
He asked Jimin about growing up with his friends, asked him what he did for fun and made fun of him for not knowing how to swim yet, and for once, Jimin just let himself exist as a man, not a freak, nor a monster.
And now, sitting in Yoongi's car, the chill of the wind far from welcoming on the other side of the door, he almost laughs at how much he's dreading parting from the man sat next to him.
"Are you visiting the garage tomorrow?" Yoongi asks, cranking the volume of the stereo down a little. Jimin cocks a brow, leans against the door of the car so that he can look at Yoongi properly.
"I was planning to? I mean, if you don't wan-"
"No! Um, I mean, good." The blonde stutters, waving his hands a little. "Good."
Jimin wants to tease, really wants to, but he decides not to push his luck, and instead leans over to pull on the door handle. "I'll see you tomorrow, hyung." He grins, wincing a little when he pushes on the door and cold, frigid air rushes into the car.
He hums, looks over his shoulder as he swings his leg out. Yoongi's watching him carefully, shadows from the streetlamp playing over his features.
"Anyone would be lucky."
Jimin frowns. "What?" Lucky? Lucky for wh-
"To be close to you." The low timbre of Yoongi's voice feels more like a shout amongst the silence of nightfall, and Jimin pauses, eyes widening a fraction.
Yoongi's still looking at him, something shy about the small smile gracing his lips, and Jimin forces himself to snap out of his thoughts, to get his body moving. He hoists himself out of the Camero, and turns on his heel to flash Yoongi one last, soft smile.
It's not until he's safely inside his apartment that he lets himself lose his grasp on reality a little. He can hear Jungkook and Taehyung hollering at another one of their video games, can hear the smashing of thumbs against controllers and curses and whines, though he pays no attention.
He shucks his shoes off and slips into the livingroom mindlessly, completely ignoring the shouts when he steps infront of the t.v screen and flops himself face first down onto the sofa between his two friends.
There's some cursing for a minute, and then the room falls into silence as someone pauses the screen.
"Jimin-ah?" It's Taehyung, concern marring his voice as he nudges at Jimins shoulder.
Jimin only groans, chest welling up with something thick and hot. He feels lightheaded, and it's not because of his connection with Seungwoon, which is currently vibrating like mad somewhere in the back of his skull.
"Hyung, seriously. What's up?" Jungkook prompts.
Jimin huffs, face impossibly hot and chest downright imploding as he rolls over and stares up at the ceiling. "I messed up."
Taehyung frowns."How? Jimi-"
"I fell in love." He whispers, voice cracking. "I fell in love with Min Yoongi."
Things change a little after that.
He and Yoongi still bicker over mindless things of course, still call eachother out and resort to calling one another childish names. It's ingrained into them, it's all they seem to know how to do, the default to whatever it is that's welling up steadily between them and has been ever since they first met.
Only things are different. The air between them is softer, the space between them less. Yoongi still grumbles over Jimin bothering him whilst he's working, though now has a stool sitting ready beside wherever he's stationed. He still complains about Jimin using up all of the coffee for the machine, though ends up buying extra just for him. They'll still squabble over innocent things but instead of huffing they'll break into breathless laughter halfway through, unable to commit all the way.
More often than not Jimin finds himself seated on the hood of Yoongi's car with the mechanic himself, Yoongi having given up on tugging him off long ago.
"I can't believe hyung let's you sit on his car. He once threw a wrench at me for touching a headlight." Hoseok had whined one time, only to recieve a stiff glare from said mechanic and a flushed expression from Jimin. He hadn't prodded after that, though Jimin caught him more often than not watching, along with a wide eyed Namjoon when they were supposed to be working.
Yoongi would pretend not to notice, though Jimin more often than not caught the pinkening of the elders cheeks and the hisses for his friends to piss off behind his back.
Jimin likes spending time with Yoongi. Sometimes they'll go to the diner, or stay late at the garage after the others have gone, discussing life and dreams and nightmares, everything and anything that skirts past their mind long enough to broach a coversation about it. Sometimes Yoongi will get this far away look in his eyes, like he's contemplating something, wishing for something, and sometimes he'll look at Jimin in the same way, the kind of stare that roots Jimin to the ground, has something kicking in his stomach and his chest rattling pleasently.
Jimin's playing a dangerous game, and he knows it. Taehyung worries, Jungkook worries, and Seungwoon seems to worry even more if possible. The spirit reminds Jimin endlessly to keep an eye on Yoongi, not to get distracted and attached. Other times he'll tease Jimin just like the others, a low whistle in his ear whenever he says something a little too flirty to Yoongi, or a snicker when Yoongi gives him a compliment and he trips over his own feet.
Needless to say, the whole situation is confusing.
He's going crazy.
It's a sticky afternoon, the threat of rain on the horizon as dove grey clouds swell with it and cast the town in a miserable kind of film. It finds Jimin leaning up on Yoongi's work desk, palms pressed to the worn wood behind him as he watches Yoongi, hunched over the hood of his prized Camero, the man completely lost in his work.
-"Remodelling Jiminie, it's important."-
Namjoon and Hoseok are off for the day, and so he's alone with Yoongi and the distant rumble of thunder, nothing but the soft swell of the radio to keep him occupied. He hops up onto the desk eventually, legs swinging a little as he cranes his neck to take in the contents beside him. Yoongi's desk is pretty cluttered, consists of sheets and pencils and rubbers, hastily drawn sketches of engines and car parts that Jimin's never seen. There's a laptop shoved to one side, closed, and a couple empty mugs, coffee rings staining the wood beneath them.
Jimin rolls his eyes at the sight of it all, not really surprised, and scans the desk a little more.
He pauses when his eyes land on a polaroid tacked to the wall just above the desk. It's amongst several others, some of Yoongi and Namjoon and Hoseok, some of each of them alone, of Yoongi sitting atop the hood of his Camero and several scenic shots of the town. None of them are what capture his attention though, no.
It's the one closest to him, tacked just to the bottom beneath all of the others. Jimin leans forward, frown plastered to his lips as he runs his finger over the photo. It's of Yoongi, his arm wrapped around the shoulder of a slightly taller, older looking boy beside him. Yoongi looks a little younger here, perhaps by a few years, and he's grinning, raven hair falling into his eyes and basketball jersey swamping his frame.
It's the guy next to Yoongi that has Jimin sucking in a breath though.
Whilst he looks older than Yoongi, he's still barely in his twenties in said photo. His smile is smaller, though still genuine. Messily dyed red hair sits atop his head, and he's waving at the camera, narrow eyes scrunched up and shoulders relaxed.
And though Jimin doesn't recognise the guy, he can't help but feel like he knows him.
There's an awful pang in his chest, something sharp and heavy and painful. The buzzing in the back of his skull falters for a moment, and Jimin considers opening his connection to Seungwoon until the buzzing intensifies, as though warning him not to.
He sucks in a breath, feels an awful sense of foreboding settle in his gut. Who is this?
Why do I feel like I should now?
He frowns, stomach rolling a little as he turns, calls Yoongi's name.
"Hm?" Comes the elders reply.
"Who is this?" He asks, throat growing dry as Yoongi glances up. He frowns, shifting closer to the desk. Jimin watches as he takes in the polaroid that he's pointing to, watches as his easy expression morphs into one of sadness, then anger, then...nothing.
Yoongi's face grows impassive, and his voice is nothing but monotone when he parts his lips. "An old friend."
"He- he just seems-"
Jimin pauses.What's up with him? "Yoongi-"
When Yoongi turns to look at him, Jimin finds himself sucking in a sharp breath. The elder looks...scary. He grits his teeth, hands curled into fists by his sides as he seemingly warns Jimin not to go any further.
"It's best that you don't know certain things."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Jimin bites, upset. What's his problem? I'm not a kid-
"It means what you think it means. Stay away from that stuff." Yoongi states, dark eyes boring right into his. "Some things are best left untouched."
"I'm only asking-"
"And I'm not telling!"
Jimin curses, heaving himself off of the desk to level Yoongi with a glare. "I get it, you don't want to talk about it. You don't have to be such an arrogant arseho-"
"I don't want you involved in that part of my life!" The blonde retorts. "It's fucking dangerous Jimin."
"I'll decide what's dangerous for me thanks." Jimin snaps. "I don't understand why you're being like this. All I did was a-"
He's cut off, though not by Yoongi this time.
Somehow, over their shouting and the ever growing presence of rolling thunder overhead, they both manage to hear the knock on the garage door. Both he and Yoongi whirl round at the same time, surprised to find a guy standing by the doorway, leather jacket pulled tight around his torso.
Jimin frowns. It's unusual to get customers this late.
The man at the door is a little short, stocky and filled out with tattoos. Jimin can see hints of ink poking out from under his shirt, creeping up his neck and winding around his ears. The sides of his hair are shaved, a cigarette dangling loosely from his fingertips, and a sharp, predatorial gaze rooted right on Yoongi.
Jimin's not great with reading the living, but something tells him that the man at the door isn't here just for a friendly service.
"It took longer to find you than I thought it would, honestly." The man states. His voice is rough, but in all of the wrong ways. It catches in his throat, makes uncomfortable kick in Jimins chest. Beside him, Yoongi's frozen, eyes wide as he takes in the visitor.
"I'm glad that I finally did though, Suga."
Jimin cranes his neck to look at Yoongi, caught up in confusion. Something in the back of his head niggles at him, screams at him to get himself as far away from the man by the door as possible.
He sucks in a breath at the cold, downright steely look in Yoongi's eyes. His lips are twisted into a sneer, jaw clenched and hands curled into fists by his sides as he watches the man carefully, as though expecting him to do something at any moment.
What the hell is going on?
"Yoo-" He starts, only to have Yoongi's hand close around his wrist, tight. Jimin gasps, apprehension dancing along his skin as he looks up at Yoongi with wide eyes. Yoongi tugs him behind him in one swift movement, blocking off his vision of the man by the doorway.
"Jimin." He grits out, the serious echo of his voice causing Jimin to shiver. "Get in the car. Now."
Jimin blanks. "Wha-"
"Get in and lock the doors." He rifles in his back pocket, takes his key's out and thrusts them into Jimin's palm. "Don't unlock them unless it's for me."
What the hell is going on? Yoongi-
He moves on instinct when Yoongi shoves at him to go, and practically stumbles into the Camero. He slams the door behind him, pushing down on the lock. An awful feeling swells in his gut, something screaming at him to get out and stay with the mechanic. One quick glance from Yoongi tells him that it's a bad idea. A whine get's stuck in his throat as he watches Yoongi slowly approach the man through the rear view mirror.
Who is that man? How does he know Yoongi?
I should go back out, I need to help him-
The two men seem to talk amongst themselves for a moment, voices too low for Jimin to make anything out. The tension presses thick around the room though, and sweat collects along Jimins palms as he debates getting out.
His momentary panic causes his mind to frazzle a little, and in a second of desperation, he opens his link with Seungwoon.
"Is this it?" He pleads, voice catching. "Is this where I save Yoongi?"
Seungwoon's voice comes breathless, strained and just as desperate as Jimins. "Don't get out of the car, Jimin. Not now. "
"But he's in danger!" Jimin hisses, tears starting to prick at his eyes. He hates himself, hates how easily panicked he is. "I have to help-"
"He's safe right now. Yoongi's safe, Jimin. Just don't get out of the fucking car."
"Now is not the time. You'll know when."
"Seungwoon, please. I need to know. I need to know what's going on with Yoongi." I can't do this any longer. I'm scared.
There's a strained pause, and then- "I think you're about to find out."
The connection's severed within a second, and Jimin finds himself grasping at air as he heaves forward, a lump in his throat. I need-
There's suddenly someone knocking on the window of the drivers side door, causing Jimin to yelp, a scream stuck in his throat as he shoots back, falls against the locked door behind him. He chokes on a whimper as leans forward to unlock the door, eyes stuck on Yoongi and heart racing as he watches the elder climb in.
He closes the door behind him and gently pries the keys from Jimins grip.He doesn't bother to speak as he forces Jimin into his seatbelt, his touch impossibly soft compared to the hard, heavy set of his gaze when he starts the car and pulls out of the garage.
Jimin wants to speak, need's to say something but for the first time he's stuck. The questions he wants to ask remain stuck in his throat, along with the recesses of fear and apprehension. He merely keeps his mouth shut, his eyes fixed on the road ahead as Yoongi peels down dirt tracks and badly lit streets. The tree's remain a blur around them, and above the sky thunders, the threat of the storm catching up.
For one long moment it feels like they're outrunning the storm, outrunning the man back at the garage. Yoongi's fingers remain tight around the wheel, knuckles burning white, and his jaw remains set, as though he's holding himself back from screaming.
Jimin doesn't know what's worse, him losing it or Yoongi.
The elder doesn't slow down until they're deep into the outskirts, nothing but the vast canvas of sky and endless throng of tree's to keep them company. Jimin presses his lips into a thin line as Yoongi pulls to a stop, swallows past the lump in his throat again as silence rushes up to greet them, uncaring and unwelcome.
Do I say something? Do I wait for him to say something?
What do I do?
He's thankfully spared a couple of minutes later, when Yoongi speaks up.
"...Jimin, look at me."
There's a strain to his voice, something that he's obviously working to control as he tilts his head. Jimin releases a long breath, glances to his left to study the man beside him.
Yoongi's watching him carefully, as though he's worried Jimin will break or bolt from the car at any moment. Jimin almost wants to laugh at how scared he looks. He's chewing on his lower lip, biting the thing raw as he tries to give Jimin space.
"What haven't you told me, Yoongi?" He whispers, breaking the silence. It's stifling, suffocating. "Who was that?"
The blonde stares at him wide eyed for a moment, every one of his muscles taught and rigid. He looks like he's trying to compose himself, trying to think of the best way to explain whatever it is that he's about to.
Eventually he leans back against the headrest, eyes on the roof of the car as he exhales, long and slow. His hands shake as he removes them from the steering wheel, and he turns his head just slightly, levelling Jimin with a long, pained look.
"I...please don't think of me any differen't for this, Jimin." He starts. "Please."
Jimin shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket, curls them into fists. "I won't. I promise." And he means it, he really does.
"You have to know that my life wasn't great a few years back, wasn't anywhere close to what it is now." Yoongi presses. "I lived in a dangerous part of town and I got dragged into something I didn't want to be a part of , had no choice but to cooperate so that the ones I loved didn't get hurt."
The elder sags a little, hair falling into his eyes and voice a little wobbly. "Things weren't so simple."
Jimin swallows. Maybe he shouldn't pressure Yoongi, maybe he's not ready to share something so personal. "Yoongi-"
"I want to tell you Jimin." The man states, as though he can read his mind. He glances at Jimin, stare unwavering, strong. "I want you to know this about me."
Jimin remains silent, though forces out a nod.
"One of my best friends, he got forced into joining one of the most notorious gangs in Daegu, threatened over it really."
The breath that leaves Yoongi's lips is one of pure agony.
"I tried to warn him but he had no choice. He had to protect his family, so he did it. He was in a bad way though, turned up at school beaten to a pulp more often than not. He always waved me off, told me he had to protect his little sister, his mother." He sucks in a breath, looks up at the sky through the windshield. "I hated it, hated that gang and the way it treated it's members. I couldn't bare to let him do it alone.Not when he was dying before my eyes."
Jimin's breathing stutters, and he has an awful feeling of where this is going. Seungwoon.
"I joined to save his life." He whispers. "Ended up becoming one of their best runners, just to stop them from making him do the hard labour, the dirty shit. And it worked for a while, I did what I could to keep him safe and kept my nose outta the other shit."
He huffs, threads a hand into the fabric of his jeans. "I should've known it wouldn't stay that way for long."
When he cocks his head to regard Jimin, the pain behind those dark irises is enough to have Jimin's throat tightening. He can't bare it, to see Yoongi this way.
"We made a plan, to get him out." Yoongi breathes. "But as you can guess, it didn't work out."
Jimin swallows, pressing his lips together. Yoongi.
"I got away, took his mother and his sister south and hid them the best I could. He was supposed to meet us a day later." Yoongi's eyes glaze over, voice thick with something solemn.
"He never came."
There's silence for a moment, thick and stark within the car, and Jimin can't do anything but sit there, cloaked by the shadows and paralysed.
"I left after that. Travelled down to here once I heard the news. Not only was my best friend dead, but our old gang leader was out for blood for being crossed. It didn't take long to realise that he was after me, and so I called an old friend, asked a favour. Joon hasn't let me leave since."
Just how long has he been friends with Namjoon hyung for? For him to give such a favour...
"It was a matter of time before they found me." Yoongi breathes. "That man- that was Jungshik. One of the only other members I ever trusted. He came to warn me that Lazurus was coming. It's a code name. He's the leaders right hand, does most of the dirty work."
Jimin looks down, feeling a little sick. This is it. This is who I have to save Yoongi from.
"And what now?" He whispers, staring resolutely at the steering wheel instead of Yoongi. "What are you going to do?"
Yoongi's expression grows dark, lips curling into a tight frown. "I've got...a plan."
Does he? It can't be a good one if Seungwoon felt the need to contact me. "Yoong-"
"I promise, Jimin. I know what I'm doing." Yoongi breathes. "I've been prepared for this since before I left." He sounds worryingly confident.
Jimin decides to drop it for now. His mind's a mess, hands still shaking in his lap. He'll talk to Seungwoon when he gets home, ask the spirit what he should do. For now, he just lets Yoongi talk, sensing that the elder needs it.
"I didn't want to hide it from you Jimin, I just didn't want you to know that I was a fucking criminal, a mon-"
Yoongi's head shoots up, eyes landing on him. "Jim-"
"Don't say that about yourself." Jimin presses. He shakes his head, thoughts a scrambled mess. "You're none of them. None."
"You don't know about the things I've done, Jimin."
"And I don't care, either." Jimin snaps. He turns to regard Yoongi properly, back pressed up against the cold glass of the window. "Unless you've done something really fucking awful, then don't even bother."
Yoongi falters, unsure as he watches him. "I used to deal drugs Jimin. I used to plan drug raids and-"
"Did you purposely injure someone innocent? A citizen?"
"Then shutup." He gripes. He doesn't really know where he's going with this, but he can't stand to look at Yoongi when he's in so much pain. He can't bare the agony that Jimin might think differently of him, that he really is a criminal, a monster.
"I don't agree with what you did, but I understand the reasons in which you did it for." He breathes, voice firm. "You tried to save your friends life, and you can't be faulted for that, Yoongi."
"Im not a good person, Jimin-ah. I've been in fights, almost gotten arrested."
"Do you get into fights now?"
"You are not your past Yoongi."
The elder looks at him, narrow eyes now round and lips parted. He's still tense, blinking back tears that Jimin wouldn't blame him for shedding. "Jimin..."
"I mean it." Jimin whispers. "You're completely different. You're out of trouble and you're trying." He rakes a hand through his hair, voice strained when he parts his lips. "You're so good, Yoongi. So kind. I've never met anyone like you."
He means it, he really does. When he slips his hand across the console, gently presses it to Yoongi's, the older doesn't even bother to flinch.
"I'm sorry." He murmurs. "About your friend." I'm sorry, Seungwoon.
Yoongi closes his eyes, leans back against the headrest. Jimin doesn't miss the way in which the man threads their fingers tighter together, faint volts of electricity tingling beneath the skin of his palm.
"He was a good guy." He says. "A real good guy."
"He must've been, to risk everything like that for." He still is.
Yoongi nods."He was a real brother to me. I needed that. I didn't think I'd find it again until I came to work here with Joon and Seok."
"And me?" Jimin inquires, tilting his head.
The elder opens his eyes to glance at him at that, a strange expression crossing his features. He tilts his head, a faint smirk curling at his lips. "Something like that."
They sit in silence for the next few moments, simply watching one another. Jimin can't take his eyes off of Yoongi, can't help but drink in the sight of him, all long limbs and pale, smooth skin. Overhead thunder ripples, though neither of them make a move to leave. He doesn't shy away when Yoongi squeezes at his hand, thumbs soft circles over the skin of his wrist and blinks at him from under a thicket of lashes.
"Are we alright?" Yoongi whispers, the sound almost lost in the thunder.
Jimin squeezes his hand, almost laughs. "We were never not alright. I told you, I don't care."
Yoongi's silent for a moment, before a small , breathless laugh escapes his lips."We're a right pair, aren't we?"
The grin that tugs at Jimins lips is genuine, and he can't help but flash it, warmth spilling beneath his skin, numbing his bones. "I suppose we are."
They drive back into the centre of town in mostly silence, a certain comfort between them that neither acknowledges. Jimin has to restrain himself from glancing over at Yoongi every few minutes, his heart a little too unstable in his chest to handle it.
It's when they pull to a stop outside of his apartment complex, that Yoongi finally speaks.
"I'll let you get inside, I can practically feel Taehyungs eyes on the back of my neck from here." The elder huffs. "See you tomorrow?"
Jimin nods."You can't get rid of me that easily." Something jumps a little in his gut at the gummy smile Yoongi directs him, so honest and raw and honestly, Jimin can't be blamed for snapping, no.
He's not sure he's entirely in control of his body as he shifts across the centre console, his limbs acting of their own accord. A surge of courage rushes through him, and before he can stop himself he's pressing his lips gently to Yoongi's cheek, the skin heated and slightly pink beneath his mouth. He vaguely recognises the sound of Yoongi sucking in a sharp breath, body stilling at Jimins touch.
"You're not a monster, Yoongi." He whispers, breath ghosting over the shell of Yoongi's ear.
When he pulls back he doesn't even bother to glance at the elder before he's practically drop rolling out of the car, his heart a lump in his throat. Oh my god. Did I just-
"Bye hyung!" He calls, practically chokes over his shoulder, before he's rushing up stone steps and scanning his key fob along the apartment blocks sensor. He all but falls through the open door, tripping over his feet several times as he rushes up the steps toward his apartment. It's not until he reaches his door, hands shaking and blood roaring in his ears as he tries to jam his key in the lock, that he takes a second to breathe.
As he presses his cool, sweaty palms to his face, he groans.
He doesn't visit the mechanics the next day.
Honestly, it's his own fault. He can hardly be blamed, right? Not when Taehyung keeps looking at him, alternating between unconcealed laughter and pointed, obvious smirks. He'd practically howled at Jimin's embarrassment last night, ruffling his friends hair and patting at the pink flush to his cheeks as he recounted what'd happened.
"Ah, my Jiminie. So innocent." He'd cackled, laughter ringing off of the walls when Jimin had thrown the nearest cushion at him.
So it really can't be helped when he wakes up the next morning, cheeks still burning and sheets pulled up to cover the red of his face as he tried to will himself to get ready and head down to the garage.
Only, he couldnt. It was embarrassing. This wasn't supposed to happen.
What if Yoongi was disgusted by him? What if he turned Jimin away? Or teased him infront of Namjoon and Hoseok?
He groans into his pillow, kicking his legs a little, and not for the first time wonders why he's the way he is.
And so instead of making the trip to the edge of town like always, he spends the day holed up in his room, alternating between cringe attacks and fits of guilt for abandoning his hyung.
His humilation isnt his only reason for not heading down to the garage though. Around two pm, whilst Taehyung's at work and Jungkook's god knows where, he decides to brave the shitstorm and open the link between him and Seungwoon. It goes as well as expected, a tirade of panic and barely controlled rage filling up his head as soon as the link's unlocked. He flinches, grunting in pain for the spirit to calm down a little, rubbing on his temples until Seungwoon's voice becomes more of a slow, steady stream of worry instead of eardrum shattering, blind panic.
They discuss last nights events, Jimin drawing out whatever information he can from the spirit. He expresses his concerns, sits with his back against the headboard as he asks the other what to do.
"He said he has a plan, and I don't know about you but that hardly sounds good to me."
"Yoongi always has a plan." Seungwoon sighs. "That idiot is going to get himself into trouble if he doesn't-"
"So what do I do?" Jimin cuts, concern making him agitated. "He's not going to tell me so-"
"All you can do is stay close." The spirit answers. "Make sure he doesn't go anywhere alone, doesn't act suspicious."
Jimin groans, tired of it all."I'm going to look like a fucking stalker all over again. This is impossible."
"I'm sorry, Jimin. I can't do anything else to help."
He sighs, shoulders sagging. "I know, I'm sorry. I just - I don't know how to save him."
Seungwoon's voice comes back soft, barely audible amongst the wind rattling the windows. "You already are."
After a lull in conversation he sucks in a stilted breath, hates how his voice wavers. "I'm sorry, Seungwoon. For what happened to you."
Theres a pause and then-
"I don't regret it. Any of it. Thankyou, Jimin-ah."
He closes the link eventually, when Seungwoon flits from "Save Min Yoongi", to "So you kissed him, huh?" , shutting the spirit out before he has the chance to make a quick quip. His laughter bounces off of the walls as he disconnects, and Jimin suppresses the urge to bury his face in his hands.
Sort it out.
The next evening finds Jimin sitting on the hood of his own car, palms pressed against the sun warmed metal of it and gaze focused on the open door of the garage. It's lightly spitting rain, the thicket of clouds above the town casting it in it's usual miserable darkness. He knows that Yoongi knows he's here, must've heard his car approaching, though he hasn't come outside yet.
That and the low whistle that Hoseok extends his way when he heads out to leave for the evening is enough of an indication that Yoongi is a little pissed.
"And so the object of hyung's affections finally returns." The man grins, sauntering over. He's covered in a layer of grease, hair messy. "What's stopping you going in? The suffocating frustration emnating from each door and window of the place?"
Jimin rolls his eyes. "I was busy yesterday."
Hoseok snickers. "Tell Yoongi that. He spent the entire night glaring at the engine of the truck he's fixing, even snapped at Namjoon for accidentally pulling the stereo cord out of it's plug socket this morning. What did you do to him, little Jiminie?"
He winces, cups the hair at the back of his neck. "What makes you think I did something?"
The elder man's grin widens, if even possible, and he strokes at his chin mockingly, peering up at the sky. "I dont know, perhaps the fact that whenever I mentioned your name yesterday Yoongi blushed like a school kid? Or-"
"Ok, ok." Jimin gripes, shooting him a glare.
"That and hyung told me that you kissed him."
Jimin almost chokes. He stares at Hoseok with wide eyes, jaw dropping. "He-he what-"
"So innocent, Jiminie. It's adorable really." The other man croons. He's positively beaming."Yoongi didn't want to admit it but it seemed he couldn't help himself-"
"Oh my god."
"Don't worry, only Namjoon and I know. And Seokjin, and probably -"
"Ok, lets just stop." Jimin grunts, face hot. This is humiliating.
"Aw, relax Jiminie, it's fine." Hoseok chuckles. He glances over his shoulder at the open garage door, eyes dancing with mischief."He'll probably be out soon. He's been glancing up at the door ever since we heard your car pull up." When he looks down at his watch he huffs. "I'd love to stay and watch whatever drama is about to unfold, but I've really gotta go so-" He jabs a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of his own car. "See you tomorrow?"
"If Yoongi doesn't banish me, yeah." Jimin huffs.
The elder laughs, reaching out to ruffle Jimins hair as he goes. "Don't think too much. Just do what you wanna do, Jiminie."
Jimin watches him go, lips pressed into a slight pout. When he focuses his attention on the garage doorway it's still empty, though even from here he can hear the soft music bleeding through the speakers.It's not rap this time, hasn't really been ever since Jimin started showing up.
"Oh, and by the way?" Hoseok calls out, halfway into his car. "Namjoon's not here.Left early to drive up to the city. Have fun!"
The flush that pulses along the skin of Jimins neck is unreal. He shoots Hoseok a glare and the elders laugh echoes against the tree line.
What is it with everyone?
After Hoseok's gone he returns to peering up at the sky. His hair's slightly damp from the rain, and he knows it's stupid to sit out in it but he'd rather do that than risk his luck inside the garage. He wants to give Yoongi his own time to come out to him, if he wants that at all.
He just doesn't really understand why he's so upset.
Is it because I didn't come when I said I would? Surely he couldn't have missed me that much.
Then again, Yoongi does value his friends an awful lot.
Maybe he thought I was scared of him, after learning about his past.
He suddenly feels awful. God, I must look like the same people I've always hated.
The idea of Yoongi feeling like Jimin's scared of him is enough to have an awful lump lodging itself in his throat. Oh god, I really messed up.
He's so caught up in his guilt that he doesn't recognise the familiar footsteps of the mechanic until he drags his gaze from the clouds. His heart promptly falls into his gut at the sight of Yoongi, the man approaching almost slowly, carefully, and he sucks in a sharp breath.
Yoongi's eyes are narrowed right in on him, an intensity that he'll never be used to causing his muscles to seize up. His hands are curled into fists at his sides, jaw clenched and his lips set in a thin line. The sudden tension that wracks up around them is enough to steal his breath, and Jimin barely feels the sudden climb in rainfall as he stares back, motionless on the hood of his car.
Oh god, he looks angry. He looks so-
The blonde approaches, dangerously close and Jimin balls his fists, leans forward and attempts to say something, anything to save himself. "Yoongi-"
He's promptly winded as a pair of soft, warm lips capture his own in a searing kiss.
For a moment he's motionless, caught up in a whirlwind of confused alarm as Yoongi's hand wraps around his waist, pulling him in closer.His stomach flips and heat swirls somewhere beneath his ribcage, rendering him useless as his mind completely blanks. Yoongi's warm against him, and Its when he starts to pull away, warm breath fanning across Jimins lips that something in him snaps, imploding beneath his fingertips as he throws caution to the wind and threads his fingers in the soft material of Yoongi's shirt and tugs.
A surprised noise escapes the elders lips, and Jimin downright whines, connecting their lips before Yoongi has the chance to move away and spoil the moment that he's been thinking about for the past few weeks.
His lips are insistant, match up to the ferocity in Yoongi's as he tilts his head to the side and presses closer. Liquid fire pours beneath his skin, erupts along the surface and causes a shiver to ripple down his spine. Yoongi's hold on him tightens, nails digging into the skin of his back through the thin material of his jumper, and Jimin almost whines again because finally.
He sucks in a sharp breath when Yoongi licks along the seam of his lips, relinquishing all his power entirely as he gives the man what he wants, parting his lips and shuddering under the feeling of Yoongi licking into his mouth. He loses himself in it more than he'd like to admit, heat swirling in his gut as he presses his palms against the strong plains of Yoongi's chest.
The elder grunts when Jimin nips at his lower lip, a stuttered curse escaping spit slicked lips as he fists the material of Jimin's jumper and downright keens. Jimin's ready to fall to his knee's honestly, unable to get a proper grasp on reality as he lets Yoongi do what he wants.
Its not until they run out of breath and Yoongi reluctantly seperates that he vaguely realises that it's raining harder now, drops rolling down Yoongi's cheekbones, getting caught in his eyelashes as he stares down at Jimin.
He presses their foreheads together, both of them breathless and pink cheeked. His pupils are blown, irises barely visable as he thumbs at Jimins kiss swollen lip, almost mesmerised at the sight of the man beneath him.
Jimin swallows, head still spinning a little, and internally thanks the cooling effect that the rain has on his overheated skin as he stares up at Yoongi wordlessly.
"You..." Yoongi starts, voice unbearably low."You didn't come."
Jimins gut swims, and he'd almost hate how easily he flushes under Yoongi's words if the elder didn't reach out to stroke a thumb along the rosy skin.
"I was embarrassed." He whispers,painfully aware that he's shaking as he reaches up to cup the wrist of the hand that Yoongi's got pressed to his cheek. He holds it in place, leaning into the blondes touch subconsciously. "I- I thought that you might be....angry."
"Why?" Yoongi's brows furrow. Rain plasters his fringe to his forehead, trickles down the bridge of his nose.
"Because I kissed you."
Yoongi watches him for a moment, eyes searching his as though he's worried that Jimins answer isn't the real one. Jimin doesn't know what he finds, but judging by the way that his dark irises clear, it's nothing bad.
His shoulders sag a little, and he huffs, breath warming Jimin's damp skin. "You're an idiot."
Jimin stares up at him with wide eyes, jaw dropping a little. "Wha-"
"You really thought that I'd reject you?" Yoongi levels him with an unimpressed look, a line forming between his brows. "Are you insane?"
Jimin gapes. "I-"
"Well? Are you?" The elder presses. He steps back, crosses his arms to study Jimin like he's done something to personally offend him.
Jimin merely exhales, shock threading itself between the recesses of his mind. Insane? "You...the town thinks I'm crazy for being able to talk to the dead, and yet you think I'm insane because I thought you didn't like me back?"
Yoongi shrugs, making no move to step back into Jimins space like he wants him to. He does note the faint pinkening of his cheeks at Jimins words though.
"Amazing." Jimin murmurs, wide eyed. He shakes his head, unable to help the laughter that bubbles past his lips. He shakes rain from his hair, leans back against the car to level Yoongi with a long look. "Hyung...I'm sorry, alright? I was scared."
And he means it, he was. Because what are the chances on someone like Yoongi liking him? The town freak. He'd hid because he thought he wasn't worthy.
Yoongi does that thing where he assesses him, gaze penetrating as though Jimins open for him to read. He holds back a flush at the haze behind the blondes eyes, blinks away rain as he peers back at the man.
"You're even more dense than I am." Yoongi eventually sighs, shaking his head. "And that's saying something."
Jimin frowns."Hey! It's not my fault, you didn't exactly give anything away!"
"Wow, that's helpful-"
"Yah, you weren't exactly throwing yourself at me-"
"I have some pride!"
Jimin's stopped short by a warm, damp hand closing around his wrist and tugging. He yelps, slipping down the hood and into Yoongi's torso, footsteps stuttering as he tries to look up. "Yoongi-"
The elder says nothing, merely dragging him off wordlessly towards the garage and out of the rain. Jimin follows without further complaint, eyes on Yoongi's back as he lets the mechanic pull him inside and past a couple trucks and bikes. He's lead through the narrow hallway, down past the reception and through to the back room where he knows the others usually change and hang out when they're not busy.
"What are we-"
Yoongi releases his wrist to tug open a locker at the end of the room, movements deft and recited as he pulls out several folds of clothing. Wordlessly, he whirls round and presses a couple items into Jimin's damp chest.
Jimin cocks a brow. "Um-"
"You're soaking wet." Yoongi remarks, brows nitted. "You'll get sick and it's distracting."
Jimin glances down at his own chest, notes that the thin material of the white knit is practically see through at this point. He flushes a little at the way it clings to his chest, flushes even more when he glances up to catch Yoongi dragging his gaze away from his torso and pointedly focusing it on the floor.
He presses his hand to his lips just in time to hold in a snort, though judging by the withering look he recieves from Yoongi as he makes his way out of the room it doesn't really work.
"I'm going to change in the other room, just, get fucking changed." He pouts, before stalking out of the room like the devils tailing him.
Jimin watches him go, and as soon as the door clicks shut behind him he laughs. A faint crashing noise, followed by a hissed curse echoes somewhere outside the room, and he has to bury his face into the clean clothes in his hands to muffle another guffaw.
The clothes smell like Yoongi, freshly laundered and earthy, and he has to take a moment to reign himself in as he sets them down on the bench beside him. He looks up at the sky, as though for some kind of advice, and brings a hand to his lips, fingertips tingling.
I just made out with Yoongi.
He's really in trouble.
By the time he slips out into the main shop, Yoongi's seated atop the receptions counter, lazily swinging his legs. He's dressed in pretty much the same as Jimin, a cotton black shirt and grey sweats, though unlike Jimin he doesn't really swim in the shirt. Jimin realises somewhere in the back of his mind that Yoongi must be alot more broader than him, and finds himself trying not to think about it as he shuffles over towards the blonde.
What do I do now?
The heaters on, he faintly registers, a delicious warmth spilling over his skin.
"Hi." He murmurs, voice shy as his socked feet pad across the stone floor. Yoongi's gaze lingers a little on the skin of his collarbones, before he's parting his legs and gently tugging Jimin in between them, much like they'd been when Jimin was sitting on his car.
The air between them feels charged, alive with something electrifying, and Jimin has to stop himself from closing the distance too much when he places a hand on the counter either side of Yoongi's hips.
"Hi." Yoongi mumbles back. Dark eyes rove over Jimins face, lingering on his lips for a moment before he's tearing them away. "Your hairs wet."
Jimin stifles a laugh at the statement, nodding just slightly as he cranes his neck up to look at Yoongi. He raises his hand to wrap a piece of the elders damp, blonde hair around his finger, and smirks. "So's yours."
The mechanic swallows, adams apple bobbing, and gently threads his fingers in the wet hair at the base of Jimins head. He tilts Jimins face towards the light, something dangerous swirling behind his lidded eyes. "You're...you're really pretty, you know that right?"
Jimin melts a little at the touch, skin erupting into goosebumps. "I've been told."
Yoongi's eyes narrow at that and Jimin huffs a faint laugh. "They're scared of my mind, hyung, not my looks."
"Oh." Yoongi murmurs. He frowns, and Jimin presses his lips together. Adorable.
"You know, I really tried to push you away." The elder whispers. A confession. "I didn't want to get involved, not like this."
Jimin cocks his head to the side, lashes fluttering a little. "You did a poor job of it."
Yoongi rolls his eyes. "I just- you saw what happened the other night. I'm not good Jiminie, I'm not safe."
"That's funny, because I don't think I've ever felt as safe as I do around you."
"Jimin, I'm serious."
"I know." Jimin breathes. "And I know you're scared, but I can handle myself, Yoongi. I always have."
"You don't know what they're like." Yoongi states, tone cool.
Jimin presses closer, hands resting on Yoongi's thighs as he ignores the buzzing in the back of his skull. " I know that they're dangerous, and I know that your plan probably involves you skipping out of town so that you don't put anyone in danger."
"It won't work, hyung." He whispers.
"They'll only keep following you, until they get what they want." Jimin presses, voice wavering slightly. "You have to end it, now." He doesn't really know what he's getting at, but he knows that he's right, knows that Yoongi's old gang is never going to stop.
The hard set of Yoongi's jaw tells him that Yoongi knows he's right.
"I don't want you to get hurt." He grits out. "Not like Se- my friend. I can't bare it."
"I won't." Jimin states. A faint tinge of guilt flares in his chest. If Yoongi knew that a spirit had contacted him, knew that Jimin sought him out to save his life all along, how would he feel?
How would he react if I told him about Seungwoon?
He shifts then, wraps his arms around Yoongi's waist and buries his face into his chest. He feels warm, some of the tension seeping out of him at Yoongi's touch. The elder automatically wraps his arms around Jimin, holding him like he's terrified he'll slip through his grasp.
"How much time do we have?" Jimin whispers, as though scared to break the moment."Before they come?"
"I'm not sure, Jimin-ah." Yoongi replies, voice soft. "But I'll figure it out."
So will I. Jimin thinks.
Things don't start to fall apart until the day that he's followed.
He's hanging out at Taehyung's bar, lazily watching his friend work and brushing off each and every one of Taehyung's attempts to embarrass him over Yoongi. It's late, the sky steadily darkening outside and a faint chill picking up, seeping through the open gap of the door each time it's opened.
The bar isn't too busy tonight thankfully, and most ignore Jimin, save for a few, standard stares. The owner of the bar skirts past every now and then, an older, kind woman with round glasses perched on the edge of a crooked nose and thin lips that always stretch into a smile whenever she see's Jimin. As usual, she offers Jimin a job alongside Taehyung, expression morphing into one of disappointment when Jimin declines. She'd been an old friend of his mothers, and whilst he's grateful for her offer he also knows that none of the townsfolk would really appreciate him mixing their cocktails.
Besides, he's rather happy working part time at the florists down the street. It's quiet and easy and honestly, Jimin loves it.
"Are you heading to the garage tonight then?" Taehyung asks over his shoulder as he wipes down the counter littered with bottles of spirit. "Just so I know whether or not to put your share of dinner in the fridge."
Jimin nods, leaning against the tabletop. "I told Yoongi I'd go so..."
"Interesting." His friend remarks, a note of amusement lingering.
Jimin rolls his eyes. "Tae-"
"What? I'm just happy for you, that's all. Even if all you do is loom over Yoongi's shoulder and watch him change car oils and shit-"
"Yah! That's not all we do." Jimin flushes. "We watched a movie last night, and we went for a drive out to the forest-"
"Hot." His friend drawls.
"We've only been seeing eachother for a week you pervert." Jimin stutters, crossing his arms. "What do you expect?"
Taehyung snorts, holding his hands up. "Alright, alright. I gotta admit, I give Yoongi hyung credit for holding off."
Jimin scoffs. "You didn't like him just last week."
"I never disliked him." Taehyung pouts. "I was just wary. Am I not allowed to be protective of my best friend? Also, you can hardly fault me for having feelings of distaste towards the guy who my best bud has to endanger his life for."
"You're impossible." Jimin sighs. "But right."
Taehyung grins at that. "Always am."
"Don't let it get to your head."
He takes a moment to breathe, relaxing against the wood beneath him. He should leave to meet Yoongi soon. The link with Seungwoon is weaker today, leaving Jimin a little worried. He's thankful for a small break though, especially after the talking to he'd recieved from Seungwoon over his and Yoongi's latest encounters. He'd had to put up with a lecture on not getting distracted for atleast two hours, before putting up with even worse teasing for the next night. Honestly, he's never met a spirit so alive.
He hums somewhere in Taehyung's direction without looking up, hair falling into his eyes a little.
"Don't look yet, but there's a gnarly looking guy in the back corner, and he's been watching you since he stepped foot in here." Taehyung's voice is low, devoid of emotion as he continues to rythmatically scrub at a glass in his hand. Jimin stills , peers up at his friend to catch the serious look glazing his features.
He feels himself tense, brows shooting up at his friends realisation. "Watching me?" He supposes it's hardly unusual, in fact he's rather used to it in some ways, but so is Taehyung, which immediately sets off his alarms because Taehyung's worry must mean that there's something differen't about this guy, something more sinister about the way he's watching Jimin than the usual citizen.
An awful feeling swirls in his gut, and he sits up straighter, curls his hands into fists. "Tae, do you recognise him?"
His friend shakes his head, trying not to draw anymore attention. "No, never seen anyone like him round here."
"What's he wearing?"
The redhead shoots him a baffled look, before reciting off the mans attire in a deep, monotone voice. "All black, tattoo's covering his neck, the back of his ear. He looks ready to fucking pull a gun or something Jimin-"
"I'm getting out of here." He breathes, shifting slightly. "Don't look concerned, alright? I'm going to head to Yoongi's, stay with him."
His friend gawks. "Jimin, no. What if you get hurt? You can't just-"
"Tae, I have to." He cuts. "I'll be safe with Yoongi anyway."
"Atleast let me drive you there. If he follows you-"
Taehyung pauses, brows knitting together. "What do you mean?"
"This isn't about him stalking me, or hurting me, Tae."
The bartender hesitates, putting his glass down. "Then what is it? Because I'm worried Jimin."
Jimin sighs, stands and moves to slip into his jacket. He knows what's going on, knows that he isn't about to find himself chased off of the road, a gun pressed to his temple. This isn't an execution attempt.
He levels his friend with a long look, keeps his voice low.
"It's a warning."
The road behind him remains empty as he drives over to the garage, just like he knew it would. He just wanted me to see him, just wanted me to know that he's here.
The man's stare hadn't wavered even when Jimin had met it. He'd had to fight back the urge to bolt as he left, shooting Taehyung a swift, nonchalant goodbye over his shoulder before slipping through the door. They must've seen me hanging around Yoongi.
He was supposed to be spending time at Yoongi's apartment tonight, but the elder had warned about Namjoon lurking around, and so they'd opted for the empty space of the garage instead.
He parks his car behind the building, nerves building in his gut as he exits the car and clicks the door shut behind him. The nights chill bites at his exposed skin and he grits his teeth, heading over to the side door and knocking a few times as he ignores the bitter wash of wind.
Yoongi opens the door before Jimin even finishes knocking, eyes lighting up as soon as they land on him. He's yanking the younger over the threshold before Jimin even has a chance to catch his breath, and he can't help but laugh a little, insides tingling at how excited Yoongi is to see him.
It's warm inside of the garage, the building secluded in dim light as he follows the elder inside and shucks off his coat.
"You're cold." Yoongi murmurs, brows dipping in concern as he presses the back of his hand to Jimin's cheek. "You need to-"
"Hyung, something happened." He cuts Yoongi off early on, decides that he needs to tell him about the bar, that he doesn't want to hide anything. (Other than the spirit currently buzzing in the back of his skull)
As he recites what'd happened, he watches with a wince as Yoongi's calm expression morphs into one of worry and barely concealed ire. The blonde's hands clench into fists at his sides, eyes darkening until they're jet black against the cream of his skin.
"I'll fucking kill-"
"Yoongi, no." He steps forward, reaches out to cup the mans cheeks. "He wasn't going to hurt me. I think it was just a warning-"
"He still scared you." Yoongi grits. "And what next? He follows you? Hurts you?" The kills you? remains unspoken, but rings loud enough in the otherwise silence of the room.
"I can't believe I put you in danger." The elder breathes, eyes glazing over with something pained. Jimin's heart aches, and he shakes his head.
"You didn't. I'm ok Yoongi, I'm fine." He tilts the mans chin, makes sure that he's looking right at him. "I'm by your side."
"I'll keep you safe." Yoongi murmurs, threading their fingers together and squeezing. "I promise."
"I won't let anything happen to you, not like-" He cuts himself off, though Jimin knows who he's talking about. His friend.
His friend who Jimin's been talking to each night for the past few weeks.
Despite never seeing Seungwoon, and despite never hearing Yoongi say his name, he can't help but just know that the friend he talks about is the very same man. Yoongi had mentioned losing other friends too, but whenever Jimin catches sight of that polaroid tacked just above his desk, he can't help but feel a certain pull towards it, cant help but feel like he's missing something as his eyes fall to the taller boy standing next to Yoongi, expression relaxed and eyes bright.
The familiar feeling of guilt bubbles up Jimins throat, and he sucks in a breath.
I want to tell him. I need to.
"Yoongi.." He breathes, backs away to give the elder some space. "If I told you something unbelievable, would you still listen?"
The elder, caught up in his own concerns, frowns. "What?"
"I mean, I want to tell you something, and I don't really know how to do it but I can't keep it in anymore, can't keep hiding it and-"
"Jimin, what's going on?" The elder studies him, brows dipping in worry. He takes a step forward, and Jimin takes a step back until his back hits the wall.
"Spirits, they find me for closure, the majority of the time." He starts, voice soft. "They contact me because I'm the only one that can hear them, the only one that can help."
The mechanic cocks his head, clearly baffled. "Jimin-"
"Just listen, Yoongi." He pleads. He looks down at his feet, feels his heart turn over and skitter in his chest. I hate this.
"I always hated the reactions I got from people when I told them their loved one had sent me. I hated being the one they screamed at, hated the insults and the grief directed my way because how dare I? How dare I play around with something so sacred?" He swallows, curling his hands into tight balls, knuckles burning.
"And when I told you about me, when you saw how the town treated me, you made me not care about who I was. For the first time, you made me forget." He sucks in a breath, forcing himself to meet Yoongi's round, confused stare.
"But I owe you an apology, Yoongi. Because I haven't been completely honest." His voice breaks a little, and he wills himself to continue.
"What are you talking about?" The elder whispers, as though frightened to break the moment.
"I'm talking about Seungwoon."
The silence that envelopes the room is shattering, piercing in all of it's glory as it builds it's wall between the two of them. Something nasty sparks in the air, and Jimin can't bare to look, can't bare to see the shock and hurt marred into Yoongi's features.
"What?" Comes Yoongi's eventual reply, sharp and so full of pain that Jimin's knee's almost buckle.
Say it. Tear the walls down that you worked so carefully to build.
Ruin it all. It's what you do best.
"I can't always control who talks to me. Sometimes the voices just come." He breathes, voice cracking. "And I don't know what it was, but something told me to listen, and I'm so glad I did because-"
"Don't do this, Jimin."
The room shakes with the ferocity of Yoongi's growl, and Jimin steadies himself against the wall, holding back a sob. Tell him.
"He told me his friend was in danger." He squeezes the words out like they physically pain him. "Told me I had to help save him-"
"I couldn't ignore it."
"Stop it." Yoongi hisses, the venom in his voice heartbreaking.
"Yoongi I'm not lying-"
"How can you- Just fucking stop Jimin! Don't-"
"Don't you get it?" Jimin bursts, finally looking up. He blinks away the tears in his eyes, shouts over the blood roaring in his ears. "I'm a fucking freak, Yoongi! I'm not normal, not like you." He shakes his head, pushes off of the wall. "You told me not to worry, told me you didn't care and yet here I am, standing infront of you telling you that the whole reason we met is because your dead friend told me to find you and all you can do is look at me just like everyone else! "
His voice comes out hoarse, cracks over several syllables. He doesn't bother to wipe at the tears tracking down his cheeks, finds it easier when the image of Yoongi's twisted features is distorted.
"I can't listen to this." Yoongi grits, hands shaking by his sides.
Jimin pushes back a sob. Something heavy curls around his heart. It doesn't matter what he thinks. You've still got a job to do.
"You're scared of me, aren't you?" Are you scared that I'm crazy and lying? Or terrified that I'm telling the truth?
"I don't know what to think." Comes Yoongi's bitter reply.
His heart sinks.
Yoongi's head whips up, rage colouring his features but Jimin doesn't bother to wait around for some semblance of a reply.
"I don't care what you think." He grits, jabbing a finger at him. "I don't give a fuck how much you hate me, how terrified of me you are because I'm here for a fucking reason. Whether you believe me or not, Seungwoon sent me to help you, and I'm not about to deny him of that. You can despise me just like the rest of them, but I made a promise and I'm not about to break it."
He shoulders past Yoongi, heading for the door with a lump in his throat. He turns at the last moment, eyes boring into the elder.
"I thought you were different."
He doesn't start crying until he slams his car door shut behind him.
He feels empty.
"Why did you tell him?"
Jimin exhales slowly from where he's seated on his window sill, eyes on the street outside. Dim light from the streetlamp spills through the window, illuminating his room in a soft, yellow glow.
"Because I care about him." He murmurs, voice hoarse. He knows that there's more to it, both of them do, but he won't admit it, not now that he's ruined it all.
"Do you regret it?"
"No." I had to do it. I was in too deep.
He presses his lips together, uses the sleeve of his sleepshirt to scrub at his tear stained cheek. "Don't worry, I'm not going to let him die, if that's what you're thinking."
"I was never worried about that." Comes Seungwoon's immediate reply. Jimin's mildly surprised at how much conviction laces it. "There's a reason I came to you in the beginning."
Jimin huffs. "I was the closest one that could help."
He stills, folding his arms across his chest. "I'm-"
"You are, Jimin. You've been doing this so long, even when you could've stopped at anytime. I think you knew that too, knew that if you closed the link, stopped listening, we'd eventually go away. You knew you could have a normal life, and you chose the opposite. You're a good person."
Jimin sucks in a breath, chest swelling. He'd never admitted that to anyone, not even Taehyung.
"I never saw leaving you alone as an option."
"Which is why I know you won't give up on Yoongi."
He stifles a sob, pulling his knee's up to his chest. "He hates me." I've lost him.
"He doesn't. He's just confused."
"Give him time, Jimin. Yoongi's lost, and it's alot to deal with when you find out that your dead friend is contacting the guy you like."
"Liked." Jimin mutters. He sighs, cranes his neck to look out of the window. "It's fine in the end right? I'm used to people thinking the worst of me."
He closes the link before the spirit can get anything else out, ignores the tumultuous pounding of his heart as he flops into bed and stares up at the ceiling, restless.
I'm sorry, Yoongi.
A couple of days pass without word from the elder, and Jimin's disappointed, but not surprised. He doesn't tell Taehyung or Jungkook, waves their worried expressions off when they ask why he's holing himself up in his room and only leaving to eat, his eyes red rimmed and cheeks stained with tears.
He cant bring himself to really speak the words rolling round in his head. Yoongi thinks I'm a monster too.
He only leaves the house on the third day, forced to go to work. He works at the florist during the less busy hours, always in the back room arranging bouquets instead of out front where everyone can see him. His boss is kind,but even so, the last thing she'd want is to lose customers because she employed the town freak.
He's glad to do something rhythmic atleast, to pass the time. Taping up bouquets and writing out cards keeps his mind off of the hole in his heart.
It's on his fourth night apart from Yoongi though, that everything falls to shit.
He's working late, organising tomorrows displays and ignoring the incessant chatter of the other staff in front of house as he hums along to the stereo and tries to keep himself occupied, when his link with Seungwoon blasts in his eardrums, intensifying so much that it has Jimin's knee's buckling, the man crying out. He raises his hands to his ears, curses as he fumbles to open the link because what-
"The garage Jimin, hurry!"
Something screeches at Jimin to move, and without another moment of hesitation he's unlatching his apron and shooting for the back door. It's late, his shadow bouncing off of the brick walls of the alleyway behind the store as he sprints for his car. He hurriedly unlocks the thing, spilling into his seat and inserting his keys with a haste he's unused to. He's shaking, Seungwoon's voice still echoing in his ears and pleading for him to hurry up.
He speeds down the road in a panic, blood roaring in his ears. "What's going on!" He shouts, movements jerky as he pushes the speed limit. Is Yoongi ok?
"Just save him, Jimin! Shit-please!"
Jimin grits his teeth, a whimper spilling past his lips as he tears down the road. He makes a sharp left, heart racing. Yoongi, hold on.
It feels like centuries, but eventually he skids to a halt outside of the garage, heart freezing at the sight of the light on inside. The doors are closed.
He flies out of his car , leaving his door open as he sprints for the side door, praying it's unlocked.
"Come on-" He all but falls through, stumbling over his own feet in his haste to get inside. His blood runs cold at the sound of shouting, loud, agressive voices filling the garage.
When a pained grunt spills out of familiar lips, followed by the sound of bone meeting flesh, Jimin loses it.
He grabs an old, rusted pipe from one of the used parts boxes, ignoring the weight of the thing in his hand as he slips past the narrow hallway and down into the back of the shop. His pulse quickens, sweat collecting along the back of his neck as he rushes down the next hall, falling short when he peeks round the doorway and takes in the scene.
Yoongi's leaning against the wall, breathing ragged and chest heaving. He's sporting a bloody lip, and glaring at a man infront of him, all of the rage in the world settled across his features.
"Come on, Suga. Don't make this more difficult than it needs to be." The man croons. Despite his obvious advantage in height, Jimin can't help but think Yoongi still towers over the man just by presence.
"If you think I'm letting go that easily, you're just as much of a fool as I always thought you were." Yoongi's words are rife with venom, hissed out between clenched teeth.
Jimin sucks in a stuttering breath, a cluster of spark plugs shooting up in his stomach. His head roars, and he knows that he has to move, now.
"You can't keep running." The man sneers, wrist flicking and something sharp catching the light of the lamp overhead. Jimin gasps.
The blade isn't big, but it's enough. Enough to do irrepairable damage.
It's the sudden, aggressive rise of said blade that prompts Jimin to move.
There's a blur of movement, of colour and light and dark, followed by the sound of a split curse, the sound of metal making contact with skin, with bone. A surprised, agonised, scream of pain rips through the garage and a body hits the floor hard, and Jimin can't breath, won't breath as he stumbles over his own feet, the once cool metal pole in his grasp now warmed with the stregnth of his grip.
A stuttered curse spills past pink, bloody lips and Jimin refuses to meet their owners eyes, his own chest heaving as he whirls back, pole raised above his head and eyes burning daggers into the man lying crumpled on the floor, mottled features twisted into shocked pain.
"Get out." He hisses, the words barely legible but the tone far too telling. His eyes are liquid fire as he watches the man pull himself shakily to his feet, knee's buckling from where Jimin had knocked them out from under him. He can barely stand, the pain too much, though he manages to support himself against the wall by his side, eyes bugging out of his head and lips downturned into something nasty.
"Get the fuck outta here." The fire wells up his chest, threatens to burn him to a cinder from inside out. It hurts.
The man must realise that Jimin's well used to playing with fire, as something in his expression flickers, changes. His gaze falls over Jimins shoulder, right onto it's target, and the sneer makes it's way back across cracked lips.
"The countdown begins, Suga." He spits, voice acidic. Something ripples through Jimin, something dangerous, and he swallows, knuckles burning white around the pole.
With shaky, pained gasps the man bolts from the garage, heading straight for a familiar looking black truck. In second's he's peeling off down the dirt track, tires screeching and engine deafening, and Jimin feels faintly like he's about to throw up. The adrenaline shoots through him like a drug, digs it's claws into his chest and holds him in place, spine rigid and hands faintly shaking.
When he finally has the guts to turn, he's none to shocked to find Yoongi staring back at him with wide, round eyes.
He's paler than usual, hair falling into the dark circles under his eyes that could've only come with countless sleepless nights. He's still, chest heaving and the blood spilling from his lips still fresh, stark red against cream skin.
For a moment, neither of them move.
He wonders faintly if he should say something, or if he should just turn and book it out of the garage before Yoongi tells him to fuck off like he thinks he will. He realises that he doesn't quite have the stregnth to speak though, his throat raw and mind buzzing with an intensity he should really be used to by now.
The pole clatters to the ground with an awful sound, metal against concrete, and Jimin flinches just slightly, hand now grasping around air.
Jet, narrow eyes bore into his with little fear and alot of potency, and Jimin can't quite get enough of it. Yoongi watches him like he's drinking him in, commiting each individuality to memory and grasping on, and it's terrifying. The silence thickens around them, the tension an inpenetrable fortress, and Jimin just has to say something, has to.
"I promised." He whispers, the words coming out hoarse and cracked and so, so full of torment.
Yoongi simply looks back at him, muscles taut and a fresh bruise blooming at his left cheekbone. Outside, the wind howls through the cracks in the windows.
Jimin sags a little.
He has no time to really process the almost inhumane growl that rips it's way from Yoongi's mouth, and even less time to suck in a startled breath as he closes the space between them with dizzying speed and wraps a bruised knuckled hand around Jimins neck and tugs.
Their lips meet in a clash of skin and teeth, hot breath rolling over goosebump littered skin and fingers tangling in the first thing they can grasp. Jimin goes stumbling back with Yoongi's ferocity, finds himself pressed up against the counter, both of Yoongi's hands inflicting dents into the sides of his waist. His own hands fly into the elders hair, knotting into it and tugging as his surprise finds itself taken over by sheer, reflexive desire.
Yoongi's tongue swipes against his bottom lip, and as he licks into Jimins mouth, a thick, unfiltered curse spills from his lips. All Jimin can taste is fresh blood and Yoongi, a strained whine surging from his mouth as Yoongi slots a thigh between his legs and presses so close that their chests sit flush together. Like this, Jimin can make out the uneven pace of Yoongi's heart, matching his own.
An unrestrained shiver trickles up his spine when Yoongi grinds into him, fingertips slipping beneath Jimin's shirt and pressing into the skin of his hips. He cries out, dizzy and overwhelmed as his teeth sink into the skin of Yoongi's lower lip,his heart soaring at the full body shudder that tears through the elder.
The fingers digging into his waist tighten for a brief second, before Yoongi's pulling away from Jimins' mouth far enough to look at him. His pupils are liquid kohl at this point, blown and possessed by want, but the soft, concerned look that flickers behind them when he cups Jimins jaw is enough to have the younger releasing a long, drawn out breath.
The air in the room feels suffocating, Jimin thinks.
"I'm so sorry, Jimin." The elder breathes.He looks torn, broken almost, and Jimin really doesn't know what to think. "I just- I couldn't bare to hear his name. Couldn't listen to you-" He cuts himself off with a harsh exhale, adams apple bobbing. "It hurt.Too much."
Jimin fights past the heaving of his chest, voice weak when he parts his lips. "You hurt me."
Pain flashes behind the mans irises at that, and he presses their foreheads together, breathing ragged. "I'm sorry."He swallows, the sound painful, and strokes a thumb over Jimin's cheekbone. The blood around his mouth is smudged, some of it probably etched onto Jimins own skin. His stomach flips.
"I'm broken, Jimin."
Jimin peers up at him, lashes fluttering and skin sticky, hot. He won't seperate from Yoongi though, doesn't dare to. "That's ok."
The sob that Yoongi represses is shattering. Dark eyes glaze over, and his nose grazes Jimins. "I wont hurt you. Never again."
The stuttering of Jimins heart thankfully isn't audible in the silence of the room. Warmth threads itself into the fibers of his skin and he feels himself sag a little against Yoongis broad chest. Yoongi.
"I won't hide things either." He whispers. I should've been honest from the start.
Yoongi's grip tightens, eyes fluttering. "With me?" He whispers, a question, not a statement. His fingers thread with Jimin, eyes round, sad.
Will you stay with me?
"With you." Jimin presses back, gaze unwavering.
There's a short pause, before Yoongi's pressing a long, soft kiss to Jimins sweaty forehead. "Thankyou...for saving me."
"I told you that I would."
He doesn't know how it happens, but he finds himself in the back of Yoongi's Camero, knee's on either side of Yoongi's waist and blood roaring dangerously in his ears as Yoongi nips at a spot between his neck and collarbone.
The elders hands are round his waist, a delicious pressure clutching at his skin, and he's got his palms pressed against Yoongi's heart through the thin fabric of his shirt, short little gasps spilling past his lips when Yoongi nips too hard.
"Love your voice." Yoongi drawls, craning up to tug at Jimins bottom lip with his teeth, slip his tongue inside to graze the rooftop of his mouth. Jimin stutters something illegible out and smooths a palm over the bare skin of the others collarbones, flushed and hot to the touch.
When the elder moves his hands from Jimins waist to his backside, slipping inside of the pockets and grasping a handful, Jimin whimpers around his name, arches his back and presses further into his chest, further into Yoongi's hands. He burrows his face into the elders neck, nips at the sensitive skin whilst Yoongi palms at him, a noise of satisfaction rumbling low in his throat.
"What do you want, love?"
He doesn't know. He's burning up, and he just wants Yoongi to touch him, to press against him and-
"Touch me." He whines, the sound ripped from his throat when Yoongi grinds up slowly, muscles straining taut against Jimins weight.
"You want me to touch you, love? Want my hands all over you?" He grinds up again, voice ridiculously low and thick with arousal as Jimin keens, losing himself a little. As though on reflex he grinds down, sparks of pleasure going straight to his growing erection as he feels Yoongi harden beneath him. The elders breath hitches, and Jimin feels a flare of confidence lick at his sides as he does it again, watching Yoongi from under his lashes.
"Want you, Yoongi. Please." His voice catches and tugs at the hem of Yoongi's shirt, teeth sinking into his lower lip to hold in another whine when he grinds down in a hard, slow circle and feels electricity ripple up his spine.
He's got Yoongi's hands tearing at his shirt before his next breath, movements almost frantic as he unbuttons the thing and rips it from Jimin's shoulders. A low, pleased hum bubbles in his throat as he smooths a hand down Jimins taut chest, fingers lingering close to the waistband of his jeans. Jimin huffs, impatience curling in his chest as he leans backward to start tugging Yoongi's shirt up and over his head. The elder snickers a little breathlessly, clearly amused, and Jimin would smack him if he wasn't so ready to just throw himself at the elder.
Jimin leans forward, doesn't know what possesses him as he licks a fat stripe from Yoongi's chest to his collarbone. He suckles at the skin there, smirks at the breath that traps itself in Yoongi's throat.
Yoongi pulls him away from his chest, fingers in Jimins hair as he rakes his eyes across his heaving chest. He curses under his breath, wraps a hand around Jimins waist and surges forward to capture his lips.
"You're fucking gorgeous."
Jimin stifles a gasp when he's turned on his back, bare skin sticking to the leather seats. The air in the car is warm, the both of them in their own little world as Yoongi rocks back on his heels from between his legs, stares down at him like he can't wait to wreck him.
"You're sure?" The elder breathes, tongue swiping along his bottom lip. Jimin's heart flutters at the elders concern, feels fond warmth flare up in his chest.
"I'm sure." He whispers. When he reaches up, brushes his fingertips across the skin of Yoongi's cheek, he feels a smile tug at the corners of his mouth at the pink flush staining the elders cheeks.
"Have you ever-"
"No." He shakes his head, feels his cheeks pinken a little. "But I want to. With you."
A fond, soft look clouds in Yoongi's eyes. "I'll look after you."
Jimin doesn't doubt it.
I can't hold it in anymore.
When Yoongi's hands dance along the waistline of his jeans, he doesn't stop him from pulling them down.
He shifts his hips, legs falling open again when the materials shed from his body and he's left just in his too tight briefs, clinging to his thighs. Yoongi swallows at the sight, smoothing pale, strong hands up muscly thighs.
"You-fuck." He stutters.
When he peels off Jimin's briefs, leaving him exposed in the heat of the car, the air changes to something heavier, something tantalisingly tangible.
"Look at you." Yoongi chokes, smoothing a hand down Jimin's chest, down his abdomen. Jimin shivers at the touch, throbbing between his legs when Yoongi's fingertips graze the skin just shy of where he wants him most. Somewhere in the back of his mind he's shy.
And Yoongi does. He looks ready to lose his mind as he leans down to kiss at Jimin's neck, teeth grazing the tanned skin. Jimin relaxes at the touch, feels fire lick at his skin and then-
He chokes when Yoongi wraps a hand around his erection.
Yoongi strokes up, thumb swiping over the head and spreading the precome along his shaft. His movements are deft, recited as he nips at Jimins earlobe and murmurs soft praise against his skin.
He sets a pace, the slick sound of Jimins erection fucking into his fist almost brutal.
Don't stop, please don't stop.
"So good for me, hm?" Yoongi presses, hot breath fanning over Jimins face. "You're so pretty, so worked up just over hyungs hand."
Sweat collects across the plains of Jimins chest and he cries out, hips bucking and arousal burning him up. He needs Yoongi, needs him now or he's sure he's going to go crazy.
"Hyung-please." He pleads, unable to voice his request. Yoongi thumbs at his slit, smirk intensifying when Jimin arches his back, a loud cry filling the car.
"Tell hyung what you want-"
In a moment of desperation Jimin grabs the hand that's spread along his abdomen, holding him down. Yoongi's eyes widen in surprise as Jimin tugs his hand to his mouth and swirls his tongue around a finger. He slicks it up, past experiences having told him it felt better when he did it to himself that way. Plump lips stretch over the skin, and Yoongi watches through hooded lids.
He pulls Yoongi's finger out with a pop, and drags his hand down, down past his fisted erection and to the place he wants it most.
"Y-your fingers-please." He shudders, locking eyes with the man above him and spreading his legs more, practically presenting himself to the elder.
He's sure he'll be embarrassed at his lack of care later, but as he gazes up at Yoongi, lashes fluttering and stomach swirling, he can't summon any fucks to give.
Yoongi actually has the decency to look shocked for all of two seconds before he's cursing, voice cracking over the syllables and something almost feral dancing behind his eyes as he presses a spit slick finger against the ring of muscle.
Jimin whines when it slips past his entrance, eyes glazing over as he lets Yoongi slowly ease in, stroking at his walls. He sighs, wriggling down onto the finger and relishing a little in the surprised curses that spill past Yoongi's lips. From here he notes that the elders jeans are tenting, aches to reach forward and-
"Ah!" He jolts, pleasure rippling up his spine when Yoongi grazes a certain spot. His skin flushes, pink from his cheeks to his chest, and he curls a fist in Yoongi's hair, tugs the man down into a messy kiss.They continue like that for a bit, until Yoongi adds a second finger, tongue laving over Jimins chest as he crooks the fingers inside of him.
Jimin has to knock his hand away from his erection when he grazes his prostate too many times, closing his own fist around the base of his shaft in an attempt to hold back his orgasm. He almost breaks when Yoongi closes his mouth around a nipple and sucks, teeth grazing the hot skin. He pistons his fingers into Jimin, the pleasure so thick that the younger doesn't even notice when he adds a third.
"Oh god-Yoongi. Please, fuck please-" He grinds up, hips rolling against Yoongi's hand, feels some more of his self restraint snap.
He tugs at Yoongi's hair, whine almost animalistics Yoongi pops off with a final nip and sits back on his knee's gazing down at him with dark, lidded eyes. He looks pleased at the smattering of marks across Jimins neck and chest, gaze travelling to where Jimin has a hand wrapped around his cock, slick with precome and head pink.
"Gonna fuck you." He breathes, voice thick. "Fucking wreck you-"
He watches through heavy lids as Yoongi unbuckles his belt, tugs down his jeans. He doesn't even bother to pull them off all of the way, far too caught up in the way Jimin looks spread beneath him as he hikes down his boxers and lets his erection spring free. Jimin doesn't bother to hold in the next whine that rips itself from his throat.
He strokes himself a couple times, uses the wet from Jimins erection to make the slide easier. He studies Jimin carefully, cocks his head a little as he spreads his legs and pushes up against his cheeks. "Look so pretty laid out for me like this." He croones, sliding his palms up Jimins thighs.
"Hyung will look after you, hm?"
Jimin huffs a breath, wraps his legs around Yoongi's waist and nods like his life depends on it. "Yoongi-"
He cuts off into a long keen when the head of Yoongi's erection presses against him. The car practically buzzes, and Jimin feels his sanity slip when the head slips past his rim, Yoongi slowly inching inside with a staggered, strained exhale.
The heat that envelopes them both is almost unbearable. It's suffocating, sending neverending sparks of pleasure through his system and lighting him up from the inside out. He feels boneless, arms up by his head as Yoongi slowly bottoms out.
For a moment they boy stay that way, Yoongi letting him adjust. If Jimin listens, really listens, he can hear the wind tearing through the tree's outside, can feel the warm leather of the car seats beneath his bare, sweat slick skin.
But all prospects of focusing fly out of the window when Yoongi slowly pulls out, before thrusting back in, hard.
His entire body convulses, muscles spasming as Yoongi strokes a gentle hand down his waist. He gazes down at Jimin, eyes liquid fire as a strained grunt tumbles from his lips.
"So good, so fucking good Yoongi-" He chokes on a sob, shivers when Yoongi draws back and thrusts again, unfaltering in his movements. He slowly starts to pick up pace, ragged breaths and muffled curses spilling across Jimins skin.
Yoongi feels so good inside of him, so good around him, palms on either side of his head and overheated body draped across his, his muscles taut and sweat dampened hair falling into his eyes.
He feels safe.
He rolls his hips to meet Yoongi's and spreads himself even further, takes everything the elder has to give him as he ignites from the inside out. Cries tear up his throat and he chokes on his sobs, a steady heat swirling in his stomach as Yoongi nudges prostate.
"You're so hot, fuck." Yoongi whines, voice coming out strangled and slurred as he rolls his hips. Jimin flushes even more if possible, eyes clouding with tears as his nails find purchase in the elders skin, raking down his back without restraint. "The p-prettiest baby-"
"Mh, Fast-faster. Please." Jimin begs, the air in the car stuffy, hot. He reaches a hand out, braces himself against the window, the seat as Yoongi grunts and speeds up, hips snapping into him at a brutal pace. When he reaches down to thumb at Jimins erection, he knows he's not going to last much longer.
"Ah, Yoongi! I'm -I'm gon-"
Stay with me.
"Gonna come, love?" The blonde growls, hips unrelenting. "Gonna- fuck- spill all over yourself, huh?" Sweat runs down his chest, casts his pale skin in a startling glow as he leans forward, grabs Jimins hand and threads their fingers together. He presses their hands into the seat by Jimins head, slows down his thrusts as he gazes down at him with something that Jimin can only decipher as adoration.
His stomach flips, "Yoongi." He breathes, unrestrainable joy filling him up. Tears spring to his eyes and he rolls his hips up, lets Yoongi take care of him.
When he smiles up at the elder, Yoongi curses.
"Shit, g-gonna come-"
Jimin's smile widens, chest fluttering because he's so happy. Yoongi looks in awe of him, so incredibly soft and then he breaks into a smile of his own, a breathless laugh passing his lips and filling the car as he shifts, drives his hips in deeper, slow and heavy and perfect.
He really, really likes Yoongi.
Jimin seizes up, nerves on fire, and Yoongi uses a free hand to give his erection a couple more pumps before Jimin's choking on his name, body seizing and insides imploding as he releases. It's almost neverending, the wave that crashes over him, lighting him up.
Yoongi fucks him through it, unrestrained thrusts that make Jimin lose his breath, the first stirrings of overstimulation beginning to bloom until Jimin tightens, grabs Yoongi by the back of the neck and tugs, kiss swollen lips spilling whispers into his ear.
"Come for m-me, hyung."
Yoongi loses it.
With a resounding whine, he's spilling over the edge of release, his head dropping into the crook of Jimins neck as he works through it. Jimin tries to catch his breath, pleasure still finding him in sparks.
When Yoongi carefully collapses on him, it's with a stuttering exhale of Jimins name. They're both overheated and damp with sweat, the air in the car practically unbreathable at this point. Neither makes a move to shift though, Jimins free hand instead carding through Yoongi's hair, nails scratching softly at his scalp. Yoongi practically purrs against his neck, fingertips stroking soothing patterns along Jimins hip bone.
Their other hands remain entwined, pressed against the leather carseat.
"Are you..are you ok?" Yoongi eventually asks, fatigue evident in his voice.
Did I hurt you?
Jimin hums, weightless. "More than ok."
Yoongi sits up a little, blonde hair stuck to his forehead and a small, almost shy grin plastered to his face. He peers into Jimin's eyes, lashes fluttering.
Jimin flounders a little.
"You're so pretty, hyung." He whispers without really meaning to.
Yoongi guffaws, shocked. "No I'm not."
"I'm en ex fucking gang member, I can't be cute."
Jimin rolls his eyes. "No, you're Min Yoongi, and you're adorable."
Yoongi stares at him for a moment, something clouding his expression, and then he's shifting forward a little, pressing his lips against Jimins like they're made of glass.
Jimin watches him from under his lashes, lips curving up. He takes a moment to just drink Yoongi in, shadows cast across smooth skin and expression soft. He pushes some of the damp hair clinging to the elders forehead out of the way, heart skittering at the way Yoongi leans into his touch.
He's suddenly scared, he realises. Scared over how fiercely his heart beats, how loud his blood roars in his ears as he lays there in Yoongi's arms, still shaking from aftershocks.
The distress in his expression must show, because Yoongi's sitting up a bit more, a line appearing between his brows. "Jimin? Are you-"
"I need you to come somewhere with me." He blurts, voice firm.
Yoongi cocks his head. "What?"
"Just, please." He breathes. "I have something that I want to show you."
"Jimin, why are we standing here?"
Jimin sucks in a breath, tightening his hold on Yoongi's hand as he steadies himself. They're standing infront of Yoongi's desk, much to the mechanics surprise. It's littered with papers and drawings and cups as per usual, though that the creative mess isn't what Jimin's focusing on.
He ignores Yoongi's question, eyes scanning the wall above his desk. The moment that they close in on what he's looking for he shifts forward, feeling the heat of Yoongi's curious gaze on the back of his neck as his fingers close around what he wants. He tugs the thing from the wall gently , and turns to hold it up for Yoongi to see, shivering a little at the nights chill that seeps in through the cracks in the door.
There's a long, tense moment of silence as Yoongi's eyes stray to the little poloaroid nestled in Jimins palm. Jimin simply watches, as the mans eyes widen a fraction, a sharp, almost painful breath sucked in unsteadily through his lungs. The polaroid quivers a little in Jimins hold, and he suppresses the urge to pull Yoongi closer just yet, an uncomfortable lump making home in his throat.
Yoongi presses his lips together, his free hand balling into a fist. "Jimin..."
Jimin glances at the polaroid, a small stab of pain beneath his ribcage. The same picture of two smiling boys shines up at him like it had when he'd first been drawn to it. Jimin had wondered at the time, wondered why he felt like he knew the boy with an arm slung around Yoongi's neck.
He really should have realised.
"This.." He begins, a little strained. "This is Seungwoon, isn't it?"
Yoongi holds his breath, eyes slipping closed for a short moment. Jimin doesn't try to speak, doesn't try to press just yet. The back of his skull buzzes uncomfortably, yet he won't acknowledge it until he has to.
Eventually Yoongi nods and it's jerky, un-coordinated.
When Jimin remains silent, it's with a broken voice that he speaks. "How..." He trails off, but Jimin knows what he wants to ask. How do you know?
He presses his lips together. Honestly, the poor connection between him and Seungwoon meant that he'd never glimpsed the mans face, but he cant explain it, can't explain the feeling that'd come over him whenever he caught his gaze straying to the photo.
The buzzing intensifies, and he realises that perhaps there was more of a reason to the feeling than he'd thought. Perhaps, it wasn't down to his own intuition after all.
So when he parts his lips and says "He told me", he knows that it's true.
Yoongi sucks in a breath, the look of it painful, and Jimin wonders if he's going to get angry again, or burst into tears or-
"What else did he tell you?" The words are pressed into the silence, almost lost in the whistle of the wind beyond the groaning walls of the garage. Jimin tightens his hold on Yoongi's hand, focusing more on the way that the dim light casts gentle shadows across his face instead of the tortured look stretched far beyond the elders eyes.
"He..." He inhales, as though preparing himself. "He told me that you're not very trusting. He told me it would be difficult, and that you're guarded-that you don't make friends so easily."
Yoongi tenses a little, shoulders hiking up slightly as he starts to loosen his grip on Jimin's hand. His eyes find the concrete floor, as though he's unable to look at Jimin.
He glances up, hair falling into pretty, kohl irises. Something in Jimin shifts, flutters, and he's unable to hold himself back. "But he also told me to stay by your side. He told me to keep you safe, to trust you." And I do.
Yoongi's looking at him with wide, round eyes, as though in some state of awe, and Jimin presses on, the air around them charged with something delicate.
"He told me that it wouldn't be easy, but I needed to save Min Yoongi." He winces slightly at the break in his voice, feels his heart stutter a little unsteadily, his throat tighten just a bit more.
"And you agree'd? Just like that?" Yoongi asks, barely audible, as though he can't quite believe it.
Jimin nods. "I agree'd, and then I realised that I messed up."
The elder cocks his head, something dark flashing behind his irises. "Wha-"
"I should really apologise to Seungwoon, shouldn't I?" He asks, eyes glazing over a little. His vision's blurry, Yoongi's face swimming before the clouds of mist that fill his eyes. Don't cry.
"For what?" Yoongi asks, dipping closer. His breath fans across Jimins skin, makes the younger shiver.
"For falling in love with the man he begged me to save."
He almost flinches at the feeling of something cold and wet tracking down his cheek, feels his skull buzz a little as though in reply to what he's saying. He blinks past the tears, stares up at Yoongi with round, lidded eyes.
Yoongi's breath catches a little, and his hold on Jimin's hand tightens, warmth seeping into Jimin's skin. He presses closer, brings a shaking hand up to graze Jimins cheek.
"I don't think he'd mind." Yoongi whispers, his low drawl eliciting another shiver from Jimin's small, exhausted frame.
"Because the man he begged you to save fell just as hard."
Jimin stifles a sob, overwhelmed and sad and just relieved. He holds Yoongi's hand in place against his cheek, lets his eyes slip closed.
"I'll protect you Jimin." He murmurs, conviction strong.
Jimin presses out a wet laugh, twisting his head to press a kiss to the mans hand. "That's my job."
"Is he here right now?" He's talking about Seungwoon.
Jimin glances up from under his lashes, nods. "He's always here."
"And what is he saying now?"
Jimin rakes in a breath, takes a moment to slowly open the connection. He's flooded by emotion, chest imploding with it all, and staggers a little into Yoongi, lets the elder support him around the waist with steady, concerned hands.
Jimin laughs, the sound breathless and almost bittersweet. He tilts his head, gazes up at Yoongi as Seungwoon's words filter through his ears.
"He said..yellow?" Jimin frowns, peering up at the elder. "Yellow? What the he-" He stutters when Yoongi's expression turns to something fierce, jaw slackening. What the? Yello-
Yoongi's breathless laugh fills the garage, and Jimin remains just as perplexed, gripping onto Yoongi tight-
"It's really him." He whispers rather weakly. He sucks in a shaking breath, pulls Jimin in closer to him. "When we were younger, we used to sit up on the rooftop of my mums apartment block, talking about pointless, foolish things.This one time, hyung asked me something."
Jimin cocks his head. "Wha-"
"I asked him what colour he'd use to describe love." Seungwoon's reply comes, soft, lilted.
Yoongi sends him a questioning look and Jimin shifts back a little. "Your answer was yellow?"
The elder must make the connection, must know that Seungwoon told him what the question was. A small, genuine smile curls at his lips, and he nods once, voice strong as though it's enough of an explanation. "Yellow."
Jimin hums, heart skittering. "I see." Yellow...
Did he say anything else?" Yoongi asks, head cocking to the side. The excitement written across his features is clear, and it's adorable really.
Jimin listens for a moment, doesn't even bother to hide the snicker that bubbles up his throat. "He said...you're nowhere near as hard as you used to be. That you've found someone that finally made you soft."
Yoongi's jaw snaps at that, and he rears back, eyes narrowing. "He did not-"
"It's about time that you found anything else other than your car endearing." Jimin recites, cheeks pinkening a little. He ignores Yoongi's panicked protests, brows furrowing as he listens to the steam of Seungwoon's thoughts.
"Wow, he hasn't changed at all." Yoongi gripes. The hint of sadness that envelopes his voice has Jimin tensing a little, his own sorrow seeping through the cracks.
"Tell him that I'm keeping an eye on him." Seungwoon murmurs, voice small. "Tell him that I'm alright."
As Jimin recites the words, he presses his cheek to Yoongi's chest, feels the way the elders heart rattles beneath his ear. There's a moment of silence, where Yoongi seems to hold back a sob, and when he next speaks, there's a thickness to his voice that wasn't there before.
Jimin smiles, presses closer if even possible.
They stay there for a while longer, Yoongi's arms around his waist and Jimin's cheek pressed to his chest. Silence stretches out around them, though neither seem to mind.
It's minutes later when Seungwoon speaks again.
"Tell him to thank me later."
When Yoongi asks what for, Jimin barks a breathless, embarrassed laugh at Seungwoon's reply. He points to himself, voice shy.
The elder breathes out, tightens his hold and buries his face in Jimins hair.
-"Yoongi, what about the bad guys? What happens when they come?"
"....I'll let them."-
Jimin only has a few days with Yoongi before everything goes to shit.
Friday is a chaotic kind of night, the threat of a storm once again grazing the horizon line, and the smell of rain hanging damp in the air, ready to join the land of the living.
Jimin's as usual, perched on the counter top of the garage, still buzzing from a night of banter and laughter with his friends. Taehyung and Jungkook had taken to stopping by the garage the past few days, spending hours on end annoying Yoongi and asking Hoseok and Namjoon obnoxious questions. It'd become a sort of routine, the six of them hanging out within the small, cluttered walls around them. Sometimes Namjoon would call his boyfriend, Seokjin, and they'd all prattle on for what felt like years, Yoongi casting the over-zealous group withering looks every now and then as he nursed whatever engine sat beneath his fingertips.
If he wasn't too busy ogling Jimin.
The garage is empty now though, aside from him and Yoongi. The elder had chosen to stay behind, intent on fixing up the beaten up truck a local farmer had brought in just yesterday. He has his head bent over the thing, muttering to himself as Jimin observes from the countertip, his legs swinging in time with the soft music bleeding through the overhead speakers.
Every now and then he and Seungwoon will chatter to one another, and Yoongi will quirk a smile, listening in on Jimins replies and deducing those of his old friends. Sometimes Jimin will tell Yoongi what he's saying, though it usually ends in the both of them flushing embarrassed at Seungwoon's observations of the two.
He feels calm though, his heart producing a steady beat beneath his ribcage as he watches the way the veins on Yoongi's arms pop a little as he shifts. It's rather mesmerising, honestly. He won't complain that his boyfriends attention is focused on a ratty old car instead of him, not when the elder often turns, glances over his shoulder to flash Jimin a soft, fond smile.
He likes it, likes how they are right now.
He's in the middle of humming along to a rather sad, slow song when the sound of footsteps makes him freeze.
The garage door is as usual, open, night air seeping through and chilling his skin, so he registers the scuff of sole against gravel clearly enough, and finds himself frowning. Who would visit the garage so late at night? It's closed...
The footsteps grow louder, and before Jimin has the chance to get Yoongi's attention, the blonde's freezing, body growing taut as he stands up, eyes narrowing in on the darkness.
Jimin's brows dip, confused. "Yo-"
He's silenced by a hand, and he cocks his head, tilts it just in time to catch sight of a figure coming to a stop just on the boundry line of the door. Dim light falls across the mans hard features, deep, narrow eyes and thin lips turned into a sneer. It's not the ice behind his eyes though, nor the tilt of his lips that has Jimin's heart sinking rather dramatically in his chest.
No, it's the huge, gruesome scar traced from the man's left eye to his jawline.
Immediately the back of his skull buzzes, the intensity of it causing him to suck in a pained breath, his head almost splitting. He winces, drags his gaze towards Yoongi to ask what's going on only to freeze all over again at the sight of pure dread marring his lovers features.
What's going on-
The pain flares up again and his eyes land back on the newcomer, and what he see's makes his heart stop.
There, cradled in the mans right hand, is a small, sharp, switchblade.
And just like that, Jimin know's.
His throat constricts, and fears blood encrusted claws tear into his chest. Something in him flips, and he follows the movement of the blade with wide, terrified eyes as the man taps it to his lips.
"It's been a while, Suga." The man croons, and Jimin feels some of his composure slip.
Yoongi doesn't bother to reply, simply stands there, wrench still in his hand and gaze sharp as it bores into the man by the door. When he does eventually speak, it's to address Jimin.
"Get in the car, Jimin." He breathes, voice low. Jimin moves to shake his head because he's not leaving Yoongi, but before he has the chance to protest there's a pair of keys being chucked in his direction. He blindly catches them, hoists himself off of the countertop and ignores the painful jolt of his shoes slapping the concrete.
He looks between the man and Yoongi, feels his stomach flip. The man's still smiling, a leering, excited grin tuging at his lips. Jimin wavers. "Yoo-"
"Start the car." Yoongi grits, no room for protest left. He doesn't even look away from the other man, his knuckles burning white around the wrench still clasped between his fingers.
"It's best you keep the whore out of it." The man murmurs, a sickening fire flickering behind his gaze. "Don't worry, I'll look after him for you once I'm done here."
Yoongi's gaze darkens dramatically, fingers twitching around the wrench. "I'd hold my tongue, if I were you, Lazurus."
Jimin shivers, presses his lips together and heads for Yoongi's Camero which is still parked infront of the door. He has to step closer to the man by the door to open the thing, feels his skin crawl as his eyes trace the line of Jimins body without respect. He clenches his jaw, slowly slips inside the drivers side and clicks the door shut behind him as his mind screams at him to get back out, to stand between the man and his boyfriend.
Yoongi's words ring in his ear though, and he stays put.
He told me to start the car. He has a plan.
When the man starts to creep towards Yoongi, switchblade flickering at his side, Jimin begins to panic.
For a moment both men simply watch one another, gazes cutting and full of challenge. Jimin feels bile rise in his throat, sweat starting to collect across the surface of his skin. He sucks in a shaking breath, turns to watch through the window.
What do I do?
He can't hear what the man says next, but whatever it is seems to enrage Yoongi, if the way that his grip tightens around the wrench and his eyes cloud with bloodcurdling fire is anything to go by. Jimin tenses, a whimper slipping from his lips and into the stale air of the car.
I can't sit here.
He fumbles with the keys, suddenly remembering what Yoongi asked him to do. He starts the car quickly enough, the engine purring into life as he watches the men circle one another in the rear view mirror. He swallows, rests his palms against the door handle because there's no way he's leaving Yoongi out there alone. I have to help.
He opens the link to with Seungwoon, desperately reaching for answers. He's almost blown back with the onslaught of panic directed at him, and has to physically fight through it to make the spirit hear him.
"This is it, isn't it!" He shouts over the terror. "You told me that you'd warn me when the time came. It's now-"
"Jimin you have to go." Is the only respone he recieves, pained and breathless with panic. "Save Min Yoongi!"
He looks up just in time to see the man diving for Yoongi, and promptly feels the world shatter around him as Yoongi shunts to the left, pale fingers fisting the material of the mans leather jacket and tugging with a ferocity Jimin's never seen before. The tension slips and crashes and Jimin's heart plummets.
A scream rips itself from his throat as both men go crashing into the counter, mugs shattering on the floor and papers flying. Jimin scrabbles for the handle, cries out in frustration when he realises he'd locked the door as he hears a pained, choked grunt spill from Yoongi's lips when his back makes hard contact with the wall.
He dislodges the lock and all but falls out of the car when the man flicks his blade through the air. Yoongi curses, loud and breathless, and raises the wrench above his head, something animalistic about his movements as he swings the thing into the side of his opponants face. Metal makes contact with jaw and a sickening crack rings out,the man crumpling a little.
Yoongi seems to spot him in the small moment of clarity, eyes widening as fear, for the first time captures him. Jimin's name spills from his lips, cracking, and he reaches forward as though to grab him. "Jimin, no-"
He stumbles back as a fist connects with his jaw, choking on a gasp when he hits the counter behind him. He tries to knee the guy in the stomach, lips turned down as he grabs a handful of his opponents hair and yanks-
"Ji-Get in the car!" He slams the mans head into the wall beside him, raven locks coming off in his grasp. "Lock the doo-"
A split curse cuts through the air as he dodges the swing of the blade, and Jimin screams at himself to move.
He scans the floor around him, panic threatening to overspill. Lazurus curses, ravenous for revenge as he moves in on Yoongi, switchblade catching the light. Jimin's head swirls, and he grabs the first thing spots, a plank of splintered wood.
It'll have to do.
He whips round in time to catch Yoongi kicking the guy hard in the gut. When he falls forward, Yoongi grabs him by the back of the head and drives his knee up. A disgusting crunch makes Jimin flinch, and the man screams, scrabbling to slash at Yoongi.
Yoongi's trapped against the wall, eyes wide as he screams for Jimin to get back.
"I've waited too long for this." The man spits, blood curdling at his lips as it spills from his twisted nose. Yoongi curses, wrench on the floor instead of in his grasp. He fights, tries to get past, tries to reach out to Jimin and grasp-
The blade swings through the air, catching momentum and hurtling right for Yoongi's throat when-
The sound of wood making contact with bone is gut wrenching, though Jimin doesn't flinch as he swings, nor as he watches the man crumple to the hard concrete. A startled curse leaves his lips, the metal stool by the counter clattering to the floor as his hands blindly grasp for something to break his fall.
The moment he hits the floor, Yoongi's jumping over his body and grabbing Jimins wrist. The wooden plank clatters to the ground and before Jimin even has the chance to rake in a breath he's being dragged towards the camero.
"C'mon." Yoongi grits, all but shoving Jimin into the passenger seat. He slams the door, rounds the car to slip into the drivers side just as the man lying on the floor starts to push himself up.
Jimin whimpers, turning back to Yoongi. "Yoong-"
The blonde stomps on the gas pedal, and the camero shoots off and down the dirt road. Jimin grips onto the door, a lump in his throat and hands shaking. He shouts Yoongi's name over the roaring of blood in his ears, grips onto the car for dear life as Yoongi speeds down the track towards open field.
"Wha-where are we going? Yoongi!"
"I need to finish this." Yoongi seethes, knuckles bleeding white over the steering wheel. When Jimin looks hard enough he notices the small cut pressed to Yoongi's left cheekbone, the bruising already developing around his jawline. He feels sick.
"What do you mean? Talk to me!" He pleads, eyes wide. He turns when he spots headlights in the rear view mirror, feels bile rise up his throat when he realises who it is.
"He's behind us! Oh my god."
"Keep a level head, Jimin." Yoongi breathes, voice scarily calm as he twists down a smaller trail, tree's shielding them from moonlight and sky. "He's never going to stop, not until I'm dead."
Jimin chokes back a sob. He's never seen Yoongi like this, never seen the man so hellbent, so focused and ready. For what, Jimin's not sure. That awful sense of foreboding returns though, weighted atop his ribcage.
When the black van speeds up, knocks into the side of the camero, a startled curse rips itself from Jimins throat.
"I have to end it." The blonde repeats, chest heaving. He speeds up, tires skidding along dirt, and Jimin presses his lips together to hold in a scream, focusing instead on Yoongi's split knuckles wrapped around the steering wheel.
What do I do?
When Yoongi starts to slow, he panics. He twists, eyes practically bulging out of his head at the sight of the van.
"Why are we stopping? Why-"
"When I get out, lock the doors."
Jimin freezes, blood running cold. "What?"
"Lock the doors and keep the car running." The blonde grits out, eyes on the rear view mirror. He curses, the sound strained. "If something happens to me, then drive."
Jimins throat tightens, and he shakes his head, stomach rolling. "N-no. Yoongi-"
"Jimin you have to-"
"No!" He cries, turning to fist Yoongi's shirt as the elder slows to a stop. Behind them, the van screeches to an ear splitting hault. Jimin realises then, that Yoongi's plan hadn't been to run. He'd wanted to lure the man out to a more desolate area, where they wouldn't endanger anyone else.
Where they wouldn't be heard.
Jimin wants to scream.
"Yoongi I'm not fucking leaving you-"
"You have to." Yoongi puts a hand on the doors handle, eerily calm. "You have to get away."
"No I do-"
"Just do as I say, Jimin!" The man whirls then, and for the first time Jimin catches the agony marring Yoongi's features, the way his eyes rove over Jimin's face, as though committing it to memory like he thinks it's the last chance he'll have to do so.
No. This can't be real.
"I'm not letting you die, Min Yoongi." He breathes with weighted conviction. "You're a fool to think I would."
The sound of a car door opening, slamming shut, jars the both of them. Yoongi stares at him for a long, tense moment, and Jimin stares back, the air around them heavy.
"Wherever you go, I go." He states, unrelenting.
Something flickers behind Yoongi's eyes, and Jimin recognises defeat when he see's it. Without saying another word he surges forward and captures Yoongi's lips in a swift, hard kiss. The elder presses back just as hard, a low, strangled noise escaping his throat. The air feels charged, electricity thrumming beneath his skin as he relishes in the touch, as though he'll never feel anything else as sweet.
When Jimin pulls away it's with a resolution. "One for the road." He whispers, afraid to speak any louder.
Yoongi swallows, closes his eyes for a moment to take it all in. When he opens them again they're darker, harder, and Jimin knows it's time. He watches with baited breath as Yoongi opens his glove compartment, feeling around inside until his fingers close around cool metal.
When he pulls the gun out, Jimin tries not to cry.
He tucks the thing into the waitband of his jeans, glances up at Jimin from under his fringe. "Ready?"
A scream stuck in his throat, Jimin nods. Be brave.
Save Min Yoongi.
He doesn't open his link, can't handle distraction right now, but he knows Seungwoon's probably screaming. He sucks in a breath, follows Yoongi's lead and gets out of the car.
The weight of cold, frigid air seeps into his bones, and he holds back a shiver as he slams the car door shut behind him. The man, Lazurus, Yoongi had called him, stands infront of his own van, headlights blinding behind him.
Yoongi motions for Jimin to stay where he is, slowly starts to head towards the man with deliberate steps. The tension curdles around them, so stiff that Jimins breath remains caught in his throat. He watches as Yoongi cocks his head toward the other man, his gaze surely steely as he regards him.
"You simply can't let things be, can you, Lazurus?"
The man's lips quirk into a deadly smile. "You've evaded your punishment long enough, Suga."
"I took my punishment when you killed him." Jimin presses his lips together, knows he's talking about Seungwoon.
"You think that was enough?" The man sneers, the puckered skin of his scar catching in the glow of his headlights. He takes a step closer, cocks his head. "You really think you got what you deserved?"
Yoongi shrugs. "An eye for an eye."
A loud, humourless laugh echoes around them. Lazurus looks at him as though he's mad, eyes glinting. "Punishments stopped being so fair years ago, Suga."
Jimin's hand twitches by his side, his ribcage taking a beating from his heart. I have to do something.
"And you think that I'm going to go down so easily?" Yoongi counters, voice sharp. "You think I won't fight?"
Lazurus smirks, eyes alight with something that makes Jimin want to shiver. "Oh I'm counting on it. You always were a fighter."
When Lazurus pulls out his gun, Jimin feels the ground start to crumble beneath his feet.
He's running out of time.
He takes a step closer, neither man noticing. They're far too wrapped up in the blood lust of the battle to train any attention on him. Lazurus merely toys with his gun, lets it dance between his fingertips instead of pointing it at Yoongi just yet.
"You were boss's favourite, in the end." He croaks, gaze falling to study his gun. "That's why I'm here. Because the one he trusted most ran away. Destroyed him."
Yoongi stays silent.
"He made me swear to take your life, and I told him it would be my pleasure."
Yoongi slowly reaches into his waistband, fingers grazing metal before pulling the gun out from it's confines. "I despised that man."
Lazurus laughs. "I know."
Jimin can't listen to anymore, can't bare the tease of death as he watches the war unfold. Screams echo in his head, pained, tortured screams, and his vision blurs, skull erupting in pain as he watches Lazurus's fingers twitch over the gun.
"You're not going to tell me that I don't have to do this?" The man questions, voice rough.
Yoongi swallows. "I know there's no point."
Save Min Yoongi. His own voice calls this time, not Seungwoons. He sucks in a breath, feels his eyes start to burn. He knows now that it's a question of who can move faster, who can press the trigger and end a life without hesitation or fear of the consequences.
And as he watches Yoongi's free hand shake, he feels things start to crumble.
For a moment it's silent, nothing but the wind and the rustle of the tree's to provide background noise. He registers his own breathing, laboured, erratic, and vaguely wonders if his heart's about to burst through his chest.
I have to-
Everything that follows, happens so fast that it blurs around the edges.
"See you on the other side, traitor." Are Lazurus's last words, before he's cocking his gun, barrel pointed right at Yoongi's heart, and pressing down on the trigger.
Yoongi's name rips itself from Jimins lips, tearing into the silence of the night like a freight train running full speed. Jimin doesn't breathe, doesn't think beyond Save him. He merely lets his body take over in the split second that it takes for the bullet to rip through the air towards Yoongi's heart.
He makes contact with something hard and warm, it's weight shifting from under him, balance lost. Metal makes impact, tearing through layers of fabric and skin and dislodging a sharp, surprised breath from deep in his throat.
The world implodes around him, a second shot ringing off, finding it's target and eliciting a sharp cry from a murderous soul.
His eardrums rattle, assaulted by the rumble of the sky, along with the burning screams of a young man and frantic fingers pressed to blood seeping vortexes marring golden skin.
Jimin's on the floor, he registers. Cold, wet earth seeping into his skin through his clothes. He blinks, world spinning and chest heaving. A young man continues to scream above him, blonde hair plastered to damp skin, eyes wide and so painfully shocked and agonised that Jimin finds it hard to maintain contact without his own heart teetering off of the edge of stability.
Cold seeps into his bones and his shoulder feels heavy, like it's tethered to the dirt track beneath him. He's motionless, ears still ringing from gunshots. He coughs, something lodged in his throat, and tries to move, tries to do something -
"Don't move, Jimin- shit. Please, no-"
Yoongi's shouting something into his phone, voice frantic, drained, yet Jimin can't make out the words, the edges of his vision fuzzy, blurred. He squints, recognises the whimper that fills the air as his own. When he tilts his head, he vaguely registers a mass lying on the floor not yards from him, body encased by dark, murky waters.
He feels so, so heavy.
"Jimin stay awake." A breathless voice sounds by his ear, so, so frightened. "Please-"
Something in his head frays and there's another voice bouncing off of the walls of his mind, a voice that's not his own.
"Hold on Jimin, don't leave Yoongi."
He sucks in a shuddering breath, warmth blooming along his shoulder, his chest.
Dark, lost eyes search his own, a halo of blonde hair lit by moonlight.
"I love you. Jimin-"
Don't leave Yoongi.
Ever since Jimin can remember, he's been able to hear the dead.
And even whilst lying in Yoongi's arms, bleeding out on the cold, hard floor, he can't find it in himself to ever regret listening.
The little mechanics nestled amongst empty field and towering forest at the edge of town, is it's own little haven all year round. Yet when its lit by evening sun, hues of orange and gold extended across it's sharp edges and smooth planes, it's the perfect escape.
The steady rhythm of rap filters through overhead speakers and out of the ever open door, exhaled into warm air breathlessly.
A young man stops by the doorway, scrubbing the oil on his hands off on a dirty rag. Blonde hair tips into dark, lidded eyes and the man's lips quirk into a soft, contemplating smile as his gaze lands on an all too familiar sight.
He ignores the hoots that pour from his friends lips somewhere behind, cheeks eupting in a familiar warmth as he throws the rag over his shoulder and steps outside.Heat ebbs across his skin like a wave though he's not lured in by the sun, not when he's focusing on what's infront of him. It shines far more brighter.
"Are you ever not going to treat my car like a sofa?" He asks, so, so fond.
When he's close enough to count eyelashes and freckles, close enough to press between parted legs and slip his hands around strong, taut waist, his heart kicks up a fuss in his chest and a lopsided smile tugs at his lips.
The other boy tilts his head back to stare up at him, the definition of sunlight itself. He's shining, emblazoned by hope and dreams and adoration. He presses closer, lips ghosting Yoongi's ear to whisper:
"You've kept me waiting."
Yoongi laughs, pushing the boy back to cup his face in both hands, pads of his thumb pressed against soft, golden skin. "When did waiting ever stop you?"
Jimin smiles then, breaks out into that imploding grin of his that makes Yoongi teeter on the edge of believing that euphoria exists.
"You're right." He murmurs, lashes fluttering. The wind around them tears at their clothes, exposing some of the bandage stretched across Jimins shoulder. Yoongi thumbs gently over it, expression darkening for a moment. He thinks of cool, unrelenting metal in his grasp, the vibration that'd kicked through his arm as he pressed down on the trigger and ended the life-
He swallows, heart cracking a little at the slight wince that mars his loves features when he shifts to pull the sweater back over his shoulder.
If he hadn't-
A small, warm hand pushes his away, brings it back to cup his cheek.
"Are you going to kiss me or not, old man?"
Bright, clear eyes swim into vision and the darkness settling over Yoongi's mind clears all at once, making way for warmth and light and-
He bends, seals his lips to Jimins like a promise.
Their little haven bends time just for them.
"Is he ready?"
Jimins voice is soft, almost solemn when he turns to look at Yoongi. "I think so."
They're sitting outside, eyes on the star littered sky above them as they wait. It'd felt wrong to stay inside, cooped up beneath ceiling and roof and fear. Tonight is special.
Jimin shifts closer to Yoongi, lets the elders warmth keep him from shivering. The cold metal of the hood of the camero seeps through his jeans but he ignores it, focuses on Yoongi and the second presence inside of his head.
Yoongi has him wrapped in a heavy blanket, still fretting over his health despite how well he's healing. His shoulder twinges a little at the cold though, so he won't complain that he's being looked after too much.
Instead, he holds back the steadily building whimper at whats about to happen.
Seungwoon may be ready, but he's not.
"Is he saying anything?" Yoongi asks, voice a whisper.
Jimin listens, ignores the way he starts to tear up.
"He said, he won't be far." He whispers. Seungwoon's voice sounds distant to his ears even now.
Don't lose it Jimin, not yet.
Yoongi nods, grips Jimins hand tighter. "I don't doubt it."
"Is there anything that you want to say to him?" Jimin asks, flinches at the feeling of the connection already starting to shift.
Yoongi's breath hitches a little, eyes planted resolutely on the stars. "Just-I... I'm sorry that I couldn't save him."
Jimin's heart breaks a little more.
"Tell him that it was my time. It was decided." Seungwoon sounds a little sad, though strangely calm, mostly accepting. "Tell him that there was nothing he could have done."
Jimin does, watches the way Yoongi's eyes glaze over in reply.
"I'll miss you, Seungwoon-ah." The blonde breathes, wind carrying off his voice with it."Thankyou for looking after me."
There's a moment of silence, and Jimin focuses on Yoongi's breathing, on the warmth in his hand.
"I knew it." Seungwoon murmurs, voice dipping in and out, almost like a radio station falling into static.
Jimin hums. "Knew what?"
"I knew you were brave."
"I saw it in you from the start."
Jimin swallows past the lump in his throat, gazing up at the sky. "Thankyou for chosing me." He whispers. "Even if you're probably one of the most annoying spirits I've ever encountered."
Yoongi snorts from next to him despite only hearing half of the conversation, and Jimin grins.
"I have a lot more to thank you for. But I'll settle for merely thanking you for listening."
The air around them gets a little colder, and Jimin burrows further into the blanket, squeezes Yoongi's hand as he feels the connection slip a little more.
"Not long."He murmurs.
Yoongi stiffens, nods.
"I'll think about you both." Seungwoon whispers, and Jimin fights the tears back. He's never been so effected, never so heartbroken.
"And I'll keep listening." Jimin replies. "For you."
A light laugh bursts from the spirit, and Jimin's vaguely aware that he's crying. His skin feels chilled where the air catches damp tracks along his cheeks. "Are you ready?" He asks, they've got seconds at most.
"One more thing."
Jimin listens, feels his cheeks burst with warmth and his stomach flip as a loud, embarrassed laugh filters through his lips. Yoongi cocks his head, perplexed, and Jimin huffs a little.
"He said you can thank him now."
Yoongi's brows dip in further confusion for a moment, before he seems to understand.
Tell him he can thank me later, Jimin-ah.
He tightens his hold on Jimin, presses his lips to his forehead. "Thankyou for sending him to me." The words are directed to Seungwoon,and Jimin feels that familiar warmth bloom deep in his chest. He burrows into Yoongi more, lips brushing the elders neck.
"Thankyou for letting me save Min Yoongi."
There's a burst of warmth behind Jimins eyelids, a pressure in his skull that draws a whimper from his lips. His skin tingles, eyes slipping closed, and he holds on for as long as he can.
The connection wavers for a moment, increasing in stregnth for that last split second, before it dissipates in the air around them.
For the first time in a long while, Jimins mind feels empty.
When he realises, he starts to weep.
He and Yoongi sit wrapped up in one another for a long while, speaking in tears and muffled sobs, and somehow it's enough.
Tomorrow they'll wake up in one another, will do so the day after that, and the day after that. Yoongi is a constant, something Jimin's not yet used to. Not like this.
And Jimin will carry Seungwoon with him, just like all of the others.
Yoongi leans in to capture his lips, blonde locks tickling his skin, and Jimin realises that for someone that's living, he was far too wrapped up in the chaos of death.
The elder tilts his head, deepens the kiss and elicits liquid fire in his veins, and he thinks-