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If You Were a Carpenter

Chapter Text

Jimin takes a deep breath and tries to get the car to start one last time, turning the key and listening to the engine rumble then cut out - refusing to catch.

He lets his head fall to the steering wheel in despair. He knows he's lucky the thing has lasted him this long -- he got it from his grandmother after all -- but god he can't deal with this right now. He has no money to fix it if it’s broken and he can’t be late to practice again.

He is trying to remember where the closest bus stop is from his current location when he’s startled by a knock on the car’s window. He looks to his left in confusion to find a man standing there. The stranger looks around Jimin’s own age, maybe a little older. He’s wearing a leather jacket and bulky grey scarf, a beanie pulled down over his hair. When they make eye contact, the guy gestures for Jimin to roll the window down. He obliges,

“Uh, can I help you?”

“Pop the hood.” The words are abrupt, low. Jimin blinks.


The guy rolls his eyes, gesturing impatiently toward the hood of the car,

“I'm a mechanic; open the hood and I'll see if I can get it running for you.”

“Oh! Um okay, I-thank you.” Jimin leans forward, fumbling until he gets a hand around the handle by his left foot and pulls. There's a dull thunk sound as the catch locking the hood in place releases and Jimin watches the guy round the front of the car and lift the hood with ease.

Jimin sits in the driver’s seat, fingers tapping on the steering wheel and top lip caught between his teeth, unsure what to do with himself. He can see a sliver of the stranger’s torso in the gap between the hood and the rest of the vehicle, the flash of a hand as the guy inspects the engine. He finds himself tracking the guy's movements until a text alert distracts him. It's Hoseok asking him where he's at and he winces thinking about how late he already is and is probably going to be.

He's trying to think of the best way to let his friend know he might be missing their second-to-last practice before the show when he's once again startled into looking up, this time by a knocking on the side of his car and a voice coming from the front telling him to try the engine.

Jimin turns the key and listens as the car sputters to life, relief unfurling in his chest with a sigh as he turns to beam in the strangers direction,

“Oh my god thank you so much, you just saved my life; holy shit.”

His profuse thanks are waved away, dismissed. The guy shrugs,

“Don’t worry about it.”

Jimin wants to insist on thanking him somehow, but the guy is already walking away.

Jimin is only twenty minutes late for practice.

When he sees the guy ahead of him in line at the cafe just off campus a few days later, he moves without thinking, reaching out a hand to tap him on the shoulder,

“‘Scuse me.”

The guy turns, eyebrow raised,

“Yeah? Do I know you?”

And Jimin can feel his face heating,

“No- I mean kind of? You helped me out the other day, with my car, and I didn't really get to thank you properly and I know you said it's not a big deal- you probably don't even remember me- but I- I mean I figured I could at least buy your coffee? Since I'm here and you're here and-”


Jimin blinks, cheeks still warm,


The guy shrugs,

“Yeah, okay. You can buy my coffee.”

“Cool. Nice. Okay.” Jimin nods to himself, coming to stand next to the guy in line. He turns his head, mouth open to introduce himself properly, to find that the guy is already looking at him, an amused smile playing on his lips.

He's really cute.

Jimin's ears burn. He clears his throat,

“I'm Jimin, by the way.”

The guy dips his head in acknowledgement,

“Min Yoongi.”

They take a step forward in line.

Jimin pays for Yoongi’s americano and his own tea and then stands awkwardly next to the man at the pickup counter, fidgeting with the bracelet on his left wrist. He chews on his bottom lip, looking at Yoongi out of the corner of his eye. The mechanic doesn’t seem bothered by the silence between them, standing casually with his back pressed to the wall while they wait for their drinks, scrolling through something on his phone.

Jimin can’t help but feel a little disappointed by the seeming lack of interest, stomach sinking. It’s not like he’d expected anything - he really had just wanted to say thank you, no ulterior motives - but he wasn’t blind. Yoongi was really cute and he certainly wouldn’t mind if his thank you ended in flirting.

He doesn’t realize his name has been called until a cup is being pressed into his hands. He finds himself blushing again when he meets Yoongi's gaze,

“Oh, thank you. Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”


There’s an awkward pause. Min Yoongi tilts his head in the direction of an empty booth,

“D’you wanna sit for a minute?”

“Yes! I mean- yeah. That would be nice.”

So they sit and it’s awkward at first, neither of them knowing what to say; Jimin is about to ask what it’s like to work as a mechanic -- if Yoongi likes it, when the man himself speaks up instead,

“So are you a student?”

“Yeah! This is my last year -- hopefully.” Jimin says with a laugh, “What about you? Are you studying or is helping stranded strangers with their cars your main gig?”

Jimin wants to punch himself for that, but Yoongi smiles a little,

“Like I said, I’m a mechanic. I’ve been working at a garage since I was sixteen, so.” He shrugs. “But my baby brother is a second year at the university -- he’s the only reason I’m in Seoul at all. Woulda stayed in Daegu otherwise.”

“Oh! My brother is a sophomore too, but he’s at university in Busan. What’s your brother’s name?”

“Ah, Jungkook. He’s a brat, but you gotta love him.”

“Hmm, sometimes I think it’s just a little brother’s job to be annoying.”

The mechanic huffs a laugh, “Yeah, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone was paying him, the little shit.”

Jimin’s heart skips a beat at the little peek of teeth Yoongi’s smile gives him, wondering what he has to do to get a full-blown grin out of the man. He doesn’t know if his heart would be able to take it.

They sit and talk for well over an hour until Yoongi has to go and Jimin is trying to work up the courage to ask for his number when the man pulls out his phone. He’s already standing to go, but pauses just outside the booth and ducks his head, shy almost,

“Ah, this was pretty nice, actually.” He clears his throat, “Talking to you, so if you want maybe we could excha-”

“Yes! Yeah. That’s- That’d be good. Cool.”

Yoongi is smirking at him, eyebrows raised, and Jimin flushes again -- it feels like he hasn’t stopped the entire time they’ve talked,

“Okay, cool. You can go ahead and put your number in then.” And Yoongi hands Jimin his phone.

Over the next few days, Jimin waits impatiently for the other man to text him, convincing himself by turns that he put his number in wrong or that something happened to Yoongi or maybe the man isn’t actually interested in him, thoughts going round and round in his head and distracting him from studying until he finally gets a “Hey, this is Min Yoongi; Just messaging so you have my # it was nice talking to you” and he practically squeals.

The girl beside him in the library shushes him.

He blushes but the smile doesn’t leave his face.

To: Min Yoongi

Hi! I had fun talking to you too :)

Chapter Text

Yoongi sighs and sets his phone down on the kitchen counter. He looks around at all the prepwork he’s already put in for dinner and rubs his palms over his face.

Jungkook had just called to say he couldn’t make it over for the third time in a row.

“Studying.” Yoongi mutters to himself, throwing garlic and onion into a pan with some butter.

He’s glad his little brother is working so hard in university, but it’d be nice if he could try to make time to spend together.

Yoongi only moved to Seoul because Jungkook asked, after all.

“I guess I’ll have just lunch for tomorrow.” He says to himself as he adds marinated chicken breasts to the pan. He takes a second to turn the music he’d paused to take Jungkook’s call back on and pours a glass of wine for himself, sipping at it while he surveys the apartment that feels too big now that Jungkook has moved out and into the dorms.

What does he need two bedrooms for?

He sighs again and then shakes himself, trying to get rid of the funk he’s fallen into, but it doesn’t help. He sets the wine down and tosses the asparagus with some oil and parmesan, puts it in the oven to roast while the chicken cooks. He looks around.

He doesn’t even like asparagus that much, but now he’s got enough for two people and lunch.

His phone vibrates against the counter and he casts a glance at it, perking up when he sees who it’s a text from. Car trouble coffee shop boy. Park Jimin.

Yoongi smiles a little to himself. It’s yet another selfie of the seeming hundred Jimin has sent to him since they started texting regularly a few weeks ago. He’s clearly in the school’s library, pulling a face as he looks into the camera, head laid down on his open text book.

Cute. Yoongi thinks.

To: Park Jimin

Isn’t it past your bedtime?

He smirks to himself as he hits send. He gets another selfie in return this time Jimin is pouting, indignant.

From: Park Jimin

Excuse you i’m a grown man I don’t have a bed time

From: Park Jimin

But forreal though if I could be in bed rn I would be i’ve been up since 5

From: Park Jimin

But I have a bio test tomorrow :(((( no sleep for me

To: Park Jimin

You better get some sleep otherwise all that studying will be useless

From: Park Jimin


Yoongi shakes his head, smiling. He goes to check on his chicken.

He spends the entire first half of his shift the next day debating whether or not to ask Jimin if he wants to join him on his lunch break. He goes back and forth, arguing with himself over it for hours with his head stuck in an engine before finally wiping his hands off on the grease rag in his back pocket and shooting off a text.

To: Park Jimin

wanna join me for lunch? Made too much food last night

He is gratified by the almost immediate and enthusiastic “Yes!” he gets in return and sends Jimin the garage’s address along with what time he plans on taking his lunch.

The guys spend the rest of the morning teasing him about the smile he can’t seem to get off his face.

It’s embarrassing to admit, but he’s nervous about meeting up with Jimin again. They haven’t seen each other in person since the coffee shop incident and this time it’s not Yoongi’s day off -- he’s on his lunch break, still in his uniform, and no matter how much he scrubs he’s never going to get all the grease out from under his nails before Jimin shows up.

He washes his hands five times before he gets the text telling him Jimin is pulling up and heart stutters in a way it hasn’t since he was fifteen. He shakes his head at himself in the bathroom mirror,

“You’re already fucked.” He says and then turns on his heel to go out and tell his boss he’ll be back in an hour.

Jimin is waiting for him outside, leaned up against his grandmother’s shitty sedan looking too cute for Yoongi’s health in a fluffy sweater and a pair of skin tight leggings paired with some sneakers. His blonde hair is being blown around by the breeze and he positively beams when he looks up from his phone to see Yoongi approaching.

The mechanic has to remind himself to breathe.

Jimin has sent him plenty of selfies since they traded numbers, but nothing compares to the real thing. He really is too beautiful for words, he thinks and he can feel his ears turning red at the thought.

Jimin steps forward when he gets close and pulls him into a hug that Yoongi is almost too surprised to return, but he gets with the program and wraps his arms around the boys back, careful to keep his dirty hands off the pristine sweater Jimin is wearing.

Jimin is still smiling when they pull back, cheeks a little pink. He tugs the sleeves of his sweater over his hands,

“So what are we eating?”

Chapter Text

Jimin's phone buzzes against the table and he moves to grab it so quickly he nearly knocks Taehyung’s drink over. He ignores the look Tae shoots him as he steadies his drink and swipes to open the message without even checking who it’s from.

He doesn't bother hiding his disappointment when it turns out that it's just Hoseok reminding him to bring snacks to practice later. He sighs dejectedly and locks his phone back after sending a thumbs up in reply, lip pushed out in an exaggerated pout as he drags a French fry through the ketchup on his plate.

Taehyung watches him, amusement lighting his features,

“You could just text him yourself, you know.”

Jimin meets his eyes, pout never leaving his face,

“I don't want to bother him. He's busy.” He glances at his dark phone screen, “He’ll answer eventually. He always does.”

“Oh so you did text him, he just hasn't answered you back.”

“Text who?” Jungkook asks as he plops down in the free chair beside Taehyung.

“No one!”

“A boy.”

Taehyung and Jimin chime at the same time. Jimin narrows his eyes in Taehyung’s direction,

“First of all, he’s not a boy, he’s a man. He has a real job and everything. Second of all,” he turns to Jungkook, “it’s nothing; he’s just a friend. We’re just friends.”

He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself.

“A friend you want to take for a ride.” Taehyung says under his breath.

Jimin sputters.

This time when he almost knocks Taehyung’s drink over, it’s not an accident.

The next day, Jimin texts Yoongi to ask if he would like some company for lunch again.

The ‘sure’ he gets in return shouldn’t make him feel as warm as it does.

He sits on a bench outside the garage and waits, watching the front of the shop for Yoongi to make his appearance.

After a couple minutes, Yoongi finally steps out of a side door, drying his hands on a towel before throwing it somewhere inside; Yoongi yells something, lifting a middle finger to someone still inside the shop before letting the door fall closed, a smile on his lips as he shakes his head, making his way toward Jimin.

He still has his uniform on, dark thermal sweater under a striped button up left to hang open, name patch sewed on over the left breast. He's wearing black dickies and steel-toed boots, a grease stained rag hanging from his back pocket that Jimin guesses he forgot about. There is a baseball cap turned backwards on his head.

Jimin is so stupidly attracted to him.

They smile at each other, Yoongi’s gummy grin taking Jimin’s breath away,

“Hey, sorry for making you wait.” he says as he approaches.

Jimin shakes his head, “Don’t worry about it; I haven’t been out here long.”

“Ah, that’s good.”

He stands a little awkwardly, something brittle between them,

“Are you gonna sit down?” Jimin asks, “Or did you want to go somewhere else to eat.”

“Huh? No, this is fine. Good. I have sandwiches today; hope you’re good with hot food.”

Jimin smiles, “I am excellent with hot food.”

They sit on the bench to eat their sandwiches, something with turkey and avocado and some Italian lunch meat Jimin tried and failed to pronounce.

It’s good. He’s noticed Yoongi is a good cook. This is the fifth time Jimin has joined him for lunch and it’s always something new, something kind of fancy.

At first, Jimin had thought the other was trying to impress him, but now he thinks Yoongi just likes cooking. He takes a big bite of his capo-whatever sandwich and smiles, close-mouthed, at Yoongi. He gets a peek of teeth back.

It’s nice. He likes spending time with Yoongi.

He brushes his breeze ruffled hair out of his face and takes a swig of water from one of the bottles he’d brought with him; he’s about to open his mouth to relay another story about the messes he and Taehyung get themselves into when or maybe ask Yoongi another question about himself, when the other beats him to it,

“Would you wanna go on a date with me?” he asks.

Jimin chokes on his water. Yoongi hands him a napkin, watches and waits quietly while Jimin pats himself down.


“A date. Would you wanna go on a date with me?” Yoongi looks him up and down, “it's fine if you say no I just thought-”

Jimin flings himself forward, latching on to Yoongi's wrist like he thinks he might get up and walk away,

“No! I mean yes! I do. Want to. I'd love to go on a date with you.” He’s blushing, he can feel it hot on his cheeks, in his ears, but he’s smiling too, unfurling wide.

Yoongi smiles back, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Definitely yeah.”

Yoongi is supposed to be picking Jimin up at his and Tae’s apartment.

Jimin is nervous, biting his lip and wringing his hands as he paces back and forth by the front door. Taehyung half watches him, half watches the drama on TV, amusement curling his lips -- he's given up on trying to get Jimin to calm down, to sit. They’d spent well over an hour in front of Jimin’s closet looking for the perfect outfit and Taehyung has had to talk him out of changing three times in the past fifteen minutes.

Jimin expects a text message to let him know that Yoongi's arrived but instead there's a knock on the door. His stomach flutters. He turns to Taehyung with a look of pure panic on his face, eyes wide; he looks ready to bolt.

“Oh no you don't; open the damn door Park Jimin.”


“No! I don’t even know what you’re so nervous about, honestly, haven’t the two of you gone on like a million lunch dates already?”

“It’s not the same!” Jimin hisses.

There’s another knock on the door. Taehyung widens his eyes at Jimin meaningfully. Jimin takes in a deep breath, nodding his head before turning around and facing the door. He braces himself and pulls it open.

Yoongi stands there with his hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket, the same one he wore when they first met, his hair is loose, dark locks falling over his forehead, black boots, black jeans, black turtleneck. Jimin's mouth falls open, behind him Taehyung lets out a low whistle.

Jimin shoots a glare at him over his shoulder before turning back to Yoongi with a shy smile,

“Sorry, ignore him. Hi.”


Chapter Text

Yoongi arrives to Jimin’s apartment fifteen minutes early and sits in his car outside the building with his head on the steering wheel, just breathing.

He hasn’t been on a date since he was fifteen years old and thought he was straight; don’t get him wrong, he’s no blushing virgin, but a date? A real date? That hasn’t happened in years and he’s nervous, palms sweating and worrying about his outfit -- when was the last time he cared about his outfit?

“You’re being stupid.” he says out loud to the car’s horn, “He likes you. It’s going to be fine.”

He takes in a few deep breaths and then checks the time. When he sees it’s five ‘til he thinks close enough and forces himself out of the car. He walks up the two flights of stairs with his hands in his pockets, keeps them there stuffed deep until he find Jimin’s door.

He hesitates only a second before knocking.

A pause. No answer.

He worries his lip between his thumb and forefinger then knocks again.

The door opens and there’s Jimin in all his glory, blonde hair swooped back and parted to show his forehead and oversized sweater covering his hands. He’s wearing tight jeans and a pair off boots, flannel tied around his waist in case he gets cold.

There’s a low whistle from behind Jimin and the boy blushes, cheeks taking on a dusting of pink.

“Sorry. Ignore him. Hi.”

“Hi.” Yoongi echoes, looking past Jimin to wave at the guy on the couch; Jimin’s roommate and best friend, Taehyung, he knows.

He gets a cheeky grin and a wave back,

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do Chim!” Taehyung calls.

“Shut up Tae!” Jimin yells over his shoulder, ushering Yoongi out of the doorway and into the hall as he does.

“You look nice.” Yoongi tells him as they make their way back downstairs. Jimin blushes again.

“Thank you. You look- you look really good too.”

Yoongi can feel his ears burning,

“Ah, thanks.”


There’s a semi-awkward silence between them as they make their way toward the car, but it’s not terrible. It’s normal, Yoongi thinks. They’ll get used to it and fall into easy conversation like always; he just has to give it some time.

Jimin turns pink again when Yoongi opens his door for him and Yoongi can’t help the smirk that tugs at his lips, enjoying how flustered the other seems. It gives him confidence, makes him feel more like he can do this.

When he had asked Jimin out before, it had been spur of the moment, a sudden rush of confidence that had the words coming out of his mouth that he hadn’t felt as soon as they were actually out there. He thinks he’s gaining it back now.

He climbs into the driver side and cranks the car, backing out of the parking space with an unnecessary hand on the back of Jimin’s headrest.

“So where are we going?” Jimin asks from where he’s gotten comfortable in the passenger’s seat.

“Well,” Yoongi says, scratches at the skin behind his ear, “I actually have a friend who works at a restaurant in town and I made us reservations there.”

He sends a quick glance Jimin’s way to see how that’s received and finds the boy smiling at him,

“You made reservations.” Jimin says.

“Um, yeah. It’s kind of on the fancier side and pretty popular so Jin said I should just to be safe.”

He sneaks another quick glance and Jimin is still smiling at him, face soft. He goes back to watching the road and feels more than sees Jimin lean over and briefly press his forehead to Yoongi’s shoulder.

“No one’s ever made reservations to take me out before. It’s nice. Thank you.”

Yoongi shrugs. He can feel his cheeks warming.

“It’s no big deal.” He says.

When they get to the restaurant, Yoongi holds the door open for Jimin if only to see him blush again and the other narrows his eyes like he knows what Yoongi’s thinking, like he’s not amused, but Yoongi can see the smile he’s suppressing.

Yoongi considers pulling out the chair for him too, but figures that would be a bit too much and lets Jimin get his own chair, sitting down across from the elder.

Jimin looks around, taking in the decor and looking over the menu,

“This is a nice place. You said your friend works here?”

“Yeah, Jin. He’s a chef, so we probably won’t see ‘im, but the food’s guaranteed to be good.”

Jimin nods, “How do you know each other?”

“Ah, our parents were actually friends when we were kids; he’s practically my cousin.”

“Oh! Me and Tae are like that; We grew up right next door to each other and have always been inseparable.”

Yoongi’s teeth peak out when he smiles,

“I know, you told me.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Jimin blushes; Yoongi shakes his head,

“I didn’t mean it that way; I think it’s cute how close you are, how much you talk about him. I’ve never really had a friend like that.”

“Oh.” Jimin is still blushing but his face has softened now, flush slowly dissipating, “But you had your brother, right? Jungkook?”

“Yeah, Kookie. To be honest we weren’t very close when we were young, but as we got older and things changed. . .” he trails off, “Things changed and we became really tight knit when I was about sixteen -- us against the world type of shit. I dunno what’s up with him lately. . .”

Jimin reaches out and squeezes Yoongi’s hand on top of the table and the elder jumps a little, but eventually turns his hand over to squeeze back,

“He’s probably just busy; I’m sure he doesn’t mean to ignore you.”

“Hmm, Anyway,” Yoongi shakes himself, “What’re you thinking of getting? I think the steak sounds good.”

“Mmm, yeah and some wine, maybe? Are you a wine drinker?”

“I am.”


Yoongi raises an eyebrow, “Yeah; what you think since I’m a mechanic I only drink beer?”

Jimin flushes prettily again and Yoongi’s smirk grows from a slight curl of his lip to something full blown,

“You did, didn’t you? Tsk tsk Park Jimin; It’s bad to stereotype people.”

By the end of the sentence Jimin is whining into his hands, blushing to his ears while Yoongi grins at him. Jimin peeks out and he’s him smiling and throws his napkin into the elder’s face,

“You’re such a dick.” He says into his palms, “I really didn’t mean it like that, okay? I just didn’t know if you liked wine.”

Yoongi reaches out to peel Jimin’s hands away from his face, a small smile still on his face,

“Hey, it’s okay; I know. C’mon outta there.”

Jimin pulls his hands away, but he pouts, lower lip jutted out exaggeratedly and blinking wide eyes in Yoongi’s direction that only make him smile wider. The waiter comes before either of them can say anything else and the rest of dinner is smooth sailing.

Yoongi pats himself on the back as they leave.

Chapter Text

Yoongi’s hand is warm on the small of Jimin’s back as they leave the restaurant and the younger leans back into the feeling. He’s smiling to himself, casting glances to the side to check and see if the small smile is still on Yoongi’s lips as well.

It always is.

Yoongi once again opens the car door for him and Jimin sighs but he can’t wipe the smile off his face, attempting to send the elder an exasperated look and failing. He slides into the passenger’s seat and buckles himself in.

“So where to next?” Jimin asks.

He’s expecting the classic dinner and a movie so he’s surprised when Yoongi just says,

“You’ll see.”

“You’re not gonna tell me?” Jimin pouts. Yoongi sends him a sidelong glance, smirking.

“Nope.” He pops the ‘p’.

Jimin crosses his arms over his chest, pretending to sulk for a bit, but Yoongi doesn’t fall for it, continuing to simply drive. Eventually the elder hands Jimin his phone,

“You can put some music on.” he says, “It’s gonna take a little while to get to our next stop.”

“Ugh, why won’t you just tell me where we’re going?”

Jimin spies the smile Yoongi is keeping pressed between his lips,

“It’s more fun this way.” he says and Jimin huffs.

He finds the auxiliary cable in the car’s glove box and taps the home button on Yoongi’s phone to light it up -- the lockscreen is a cat flicking the user off. Jimin snorts, waving Yoongi off when he flicks a look his way,

“What’s your password?” he asks.

“Zero Nine, Zero One -- Jungkook’s birthday.”

Jimin smiles a little at that as he types the numbers in and unlocks the phone, warmed, belatedly, by how much trust Yoongi just put in him by giving him the passcode.

He finds spotify easily, the music app front and center on the home screen which is a perfect match of the lockscreen he just left.

He clicks on the first playlist he sees and does his best to hide his surprise when it opens with r’n’b. It’s a good surprise, an artist Jimin doesn’t know, but matches his taste well.

He decides he likes this. He likes learning more about Yoongi, likes being with him. He smiles to himself, scrolling through what other music the elder has saved.

The further out they go the more curious Jimin gets, leaving behind the roads he recognizes as buildings get fewer and farther between,

“You’re not driving me out to the middle of nowhere to murder me are you?”

Yoongi snorts,

“No.” he blindly reaches over to give Jimin’s knee a reassuring squeeze, “Don’t worry we’re almost there”

Jimin is too busy focusing on the warmth of Yoongi’s palm bleeding through his jeans to respond with more than an “Mm.”

After a few more minutes of driving, Yoongi begins to slow, turning onto a gravel drive surrounded by trees on both sides. Jimin presses up against the window, eyes widened and trying to see in the dark, as though the trees could give him hints as to where they are.

They pull into a darkened parking lot, spaces denoted only by the cement stoppers at their far ends.

“Where the hell are we?” Jimin says as they pull in.

“C’mon, you’ll see.”

Jimin climbs out of the car a little warily, not exactly scared of the dark but not really comfortable with how little he can see. He’s glad when Yoongi rounds the car and takes his hand. He only gets more confused as Yoongi leads him up a set of stairs and onto a wide unlit platform.

They walk all the way to the railing where it looks out into a cavernous darkness, pitch black and endless,

“Oh my god you are gonna murder me.”

Yoongi laughs, shaking his head,

“Look up.” is all he says in response and Jimin sends him a look that he can’t see, but does as he says.

“Oh.” the word comes out a little breathless, a little awed.

Jimin is looking up into a sky so full of stars it looks like they may spill down to the earth any moment, it looks like home, like being back under the sky in Busan. He hasn’t seen anything like it since coming to Seoul.

He reaches out blindly until Yoongi takes his hand.

“It’s beautiful.” the words come out a whisper.

“You said you missed the stars.”

Jimin squeezes Yoongi’s hand, tears pricking his eyes,

“Where are we?” he asks.

“The observation deck of a rock quarry outside of Seoul.”

Jimin can feel Yoongi’s warmth coming closer, but doesn’t look away from the sky. He just welcomes the arms when Yoongi wraps them around his waist and rests his head on Jimin’s shoulder.

They stand there until the cold of the night creeps in through their clothes and into their skin, chilling them both to the bone. Jimin is shivering by the time Yoongi ushers him back into the car, but he’s smiling. Once he’s snuggly seated in the car with the heat on high, he turns to Yoongi and says,

“Thank you.”

The elder shrugs, but Jimin stops him, reaching out and wrapping Yoongi’s hand between his as well as he can,

“I mean it Yoongi, thank you. No one’s ever done anything like this for me before and I never would have thought to come here myself, so thank you. You just gave me back something I thought I would just have to live without, a trade-in for following my dreams.”

Jimin can tell the other is uncomfortable with the praise, squirming but he presses on,

“Did I ever tell you why I like the stars so much?”

Yoongi shakes his head.

“It’s something I used to do with my dad when I was little; we would go out at night, just the two of us, and I’d almost always be up on his shoulders and we’d make a wish together. We would make a wish and then he’d spend a little while pointing out what constellations could be seen and it’s my favourite memory of him and you just gave that back to me, so thank you.”

Yoongi’s hand is warm in his, squeezing back as well as he can,

“How did he die?” he asks and Jimin sucks in a sharp breath.

“How did you-” he shakes his head, “He got sick when I was in middle school; he passed right before I left for college. It was better. I think he was ready by the end for it to be over.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jimin twists and leans his forehead against Yoongi’s shoulder; he lets out a wet, shuddering breath. Yoongi brings his free hand up to cup the back of his skull, tangling his fingers in the hair at his nape. He presses a kiss to the crown of his head,

“I’m sorry.” he says again.

There’s a long pause where they sit like that, Jimin trying to get him emotions back under control, just breathing in the quiet, the purr of the engine the only sound until Yoongi breaks it,

“I lost both my parents” a pause, he licks his lips -- he can feel Jimin stiffen where he leans against Yoongi’s arm, “I lost them both in one go when I was sixteen so I- I understand what it’s like.”

Jimin sniffles and this time he’s not sure if he’s crying for himself or for Yoongi; he lets go of Yoongi’s hand and wraps his arm around his front, pressing his face against Yoongi’s arm. Yoongi murmurs against the top of his head,

“It’s okay Jimin; It’s okay.”

He pulls back after a while and wipes under his eyes,

“God, sorry. I’m sorry.” a watery laugh, “Some first date, huh?”

Yoongi shrugs,

“I think it went alright.” he says quietly.

They smile at each other, small things.

“Should probably get you home, huh?”

Jimin bites his lip, “Yeah, guess so.”

But neither of them move, not Jimin to buckle up, not Yoongi to crank the engine. They look at eachother in the dark, illuminated by the blue dashboard lights.

Jimin leans in first.

It’s a brief kiss, soft and chaste, both of their lips chapped from the cold wind; it doesn’t escalate, doesn’t warm them, but it’s sweet, shy, something to keep tucked in a corner of the heart and taken out to look at in the night.

Chapter Text

Yoongi is sitting at a red light on the drive home from dropping Jimin off when he thinks for a second he sees Jungkook passing by on the sidewalk. He wants to roll down the window and call out, offer him a ride home, but before he can be sure it’s his brother, the figure is already gone. He shakes his head at himself and drives on.

When he gets home he shoots Jungkook a text, just checking up on him.

A reply comes three days later, short and sweet, a simple “I’m okay.” that Yoongi is glad and saddened to see. He wishes Jungkook wasn’t always so short with him lately. Then Jimin sends him a picture of a dog he saw on his way to class that morning and he smiles.

Maybe things ain’t so bad.

“Hey Min, you comin’ out tonight?” Kihyun calls over the din of the garage.

Yoongi stands up from where he’s got his head stuck under a hood and wipes his hands off on the towel in his back pocket; he takes a moment to think, checking his phone and finding it empty of notifications -- no surprise Jungkook has once again ignored him, a little surprised Jimin hasn’t texted, but not overly concerned -- the kid is busy. He nods and calls a “Yeah! Sure.” back.

He likes going to the bar with Kihyun. They drink a couple beers and shoot the shit and it’s nice. It’s good to feel like he has a friend out here.

They spend about an hour in a corner booth, just talking and sharing a basket of fries before he here’s his name,


and there is Jimin in his college student getup -- cropped pullover and the tightest jeans Yoongi has ever seen, fishnets underneath them peeking out from the rips in the thighs and the knees; they’re pulled up over his belly button.

Yoongi wants to tangle his fingers in them.

He shifts in his seat, adjusting his jeans as he does so.

He can see Kihyun out of the corner of his eye taking his measure of Jimin, taking him in.

“Jimin, Hey.” He says and he sees recognition and surprise flicker over his friend’s features at the name.

“I’m with some friends from dance,” Jimin says, “but I saw you hiding in the corner over here and wanted to come say hi.”

He’s fidgeting with the sleeves of his pullover, nervous and uncertain. There’s a dusting of pink high on his cheeks. They haven’t seen each other in person since their date the week before and despite the regular contact via text it’s clear he’s not sure how to conduct himself.

Yoongi wants to grab his hand and stop him from picking at his nails, pluck the lip from between his teeth and kiss him again.

He wants to take him home and bundle him up and keep him safe — wants to keep him.

He smiles and says, “Hi.” with a little wave, teasing. He gestures toward his companion, “This is Kihyun. We work together.”

Jimin nods and says ‘Hello.’

“It’s nice to meet you.” he adds, a second late.

Kihyung raises his glass, “Nice to meet you too.” He shoots a sly glance in Yoongi’s direction, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Yoongi wants to smack him, but Jimin beams, eyes bright,


“Oh yeah, hasn’t stopped talking since your date last wee-”

This time Yoongi does hit him, a smack to the shoulder that stops him from talking, but does nothing to remove the smug grin from his face. Yoongi can feel his own ears warming.

The worst part is it’s not even true -- Yoongi plays things close to the vest and isn’t one to talk about himself, much less a crush or whatever it is he has with Jimin -- but he can’t say that now without hurting Jimin’s feelings so he swallows his embarrassment and settles for glaring at his friend.

The only positive is that it’s proved to make Jimin less nervous, his stance relaxing at the words; he seems more sure of himself and it warms Yoongi to see it.

Someone calls Jimin’s name from across the bar and he looks over his shoulder, frowning, before turning back around,

“I should probably head back over there before Hobi drinks himself to death.” he’s chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“I’ll see you later?” He asks.

Yoongi nods, smiling softly, “Yeah; I’ll text you.”

Jimin beams. He says goodbye to Kihyun and then turns to go.

Yoongi doesn’t even try to pretend he’s not watching him leave.

“So that’s your type, huh?” Kihyun says, “He’s pretty.”


They don’t stay much longer after that, settling their tab and shrugging into their coats, getting ready to go.

Yoongi says goodbye to Kihyun at the door and is almost bowled over by someone barrelling out after him. He catches the person before they can fall down with a steadying hand on their arm and waist and then a familiar voice pipes up from behind him,

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry I thought he was still with me, but he ran off and I- Yoongi!”

Yoongi turns himself and the one who ran into him around with an eyebrow raised high, corner of his mouth curling,

“This belong to you?” he asks.

Jimin blushes prettily and Yoongi’s heart stutters.

“Sorry, yeah that’s- That’s Hoseok. He’s, well” Jimin reaches out and gets Hoseok’s arm around his shoulders, taking his weight from Yoongi, “He’s a bit of a lightweight.”

Yoongi snorts, “A bit?”

“Hey! M’not- M’not a bit. I’m Hoseok” and oh. Right. There’s another person here. Yoongi scratches awkwardly at the skin behind his ear. He finally takes the new guy in: long face, shaggy hair. Handsome, but not really Yoongi’s type -- Kihyun was right; he likes them pretty.


“Sorry man; I’m Yoongi.”

“Yoongi?” He’s slurring so the name is drawn out in the middle, his brows furrowed in concentration. Hoseok squints, looking from Yoongi’s face to Jimin and back again. His features brighten like something has just dawned on him, “OH MY GOD! YOONGI! HOT MECHANIC GUY!”

He’s nodding his head and beaming at a scarlet Jimin like a child who knows he just answered a question correctly, waiting to be praised.

Yoongi can feel the smirk stretching his lips,

“Hot mechanic guy, huh?”

Jimin just whines and hides his eyes behind his free hand. Yoongi’s smirk grows into a gummy smile, creasing his eyes. He reaches out and peels Jimin’s fingers from his face.

“Hey, I’m flattered. Don’t worry about it.”

Jimin huffs but doesn’t complain when Yoongi doesn’t let go of his hand. The elder looks them over, Hoseok clinging limply to Jimin’s side.

“Do you guys need a ride?” He asks.

“Oh my god, yes that would be amazing. I do not want to take Hoseok on the bus like this.”

“Alright, follow me then. I’m parked not too far away.”

“Thank you.”

They get Hoseok loaded into the back seat and he immediately falls asleep, leaving Jimin to navigate the way to the elder’s apartment. He dutifully calls out directions to Yoongi, telling him when and where to turn, until they pull up in front of Hoseok’s apartment building.

Together, they get him out of the backseat and up the stairs, Jimin fumbling with Hoseok’s keyring until he finds the right one and gets them in. They slip him out of his shoes and into bed and then Yoongi waits by the front door while Jimin fusses: setting up a glass of water and some painkillers next to the bed.

He smiles as Jimin makes his way back to him,

“You’re a good friend.” he says. Jimin shrugs and blushes, brushing the compliment off.

Yoongi lets him.

The ride to Jimin’s apartment is quiet save for Jimin giving directions, the radio on low. When they pull up outside his building, he doesn’t move at first, drumming his fingers on his knees nervously.

“Thank you.” He finally says, “For the ride and helping with Hoseok.”

“It’s no problem.”

Jimin nods his head to himself, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He looks up abruptly, meeting Yoongi’s gaze,

“Can I- can we-” he takes in a deep breath, “Can I kiss you?”

Yoongi smiles at him, turning sideways in his seat and reaching out a hand to cup his cheek,

“C’mere,” he says, “of course you can.”

Jimin leans in eagerly, closing his eyes and finding Yoongi’s lips with his own. The angle is a little awkward, but he doesn’t care, molding their lips together and letting Yoongi’s hand on his chin guide him and control their pace.

After a while, Jimin curls his hand in the front of Yoongi’s shirt and pulls him a little closer, kisses him a little deeper, taking the elder’s bottom lip between his teeth and tugging. Yoongi groans in response and Jimin lets his lip go with an audible ‘pop,’ blinking heavy-lidded eyes in at Yoongi He licks his own lips and then dives back in, letting Yoongi slip his tongue into Jimin’s mouth and making him whimper with the touch of a cool hand on his bare skin, Yoongi’s palm moving from the younger’s face to his hip, sliding under the cropped sweatshirt he’s wearing.

He trails kisses from Jimin’s mouth to his chin, the underside of his jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses down the column of his neck to the hood of his sweater. He bites down on the skin just above the collarbone and Jimin moans then pulls away abruptly, embarrassed.

He shifts to try to hide the hard-on already obvious in his jeans, cheeks pink.

“I should go.” He says.

Yoongi looks at him knowingly and he blushes even harder, shrinking down in his seat. Yoongi runs a soothing hand through Jimin’s hair and leans in to give him one last peck on the lips.

“I’ll see you later.” He says.

Jimin nods his head and then scrambles out of the car. Yoongi waits for him to make it inside before pulling away from the curb.

At home, the first thing Yoongi does is kick out of his jeans, leaving them pooled in the living room. He palms himself through his boxers as he makes his way to his bedroom, thinking of Jimin hard in his fishnets from just a little kissing.

This kid is going to be the death of him.

He flops back onto his bed and shimmies out of his underwear, pulling his shirt off over his head. He fishes in the top drawer of his nightstand for his lube and drizzles a generous amount on his hand, fists his soft cock roughly and coaxes it to life with sure strokes and his free hand at his nipples, rolling the nubs between his fingers with his head pressed back against the pillows and groaning softly. He keeps his eyes closed.

He thinks about Jimin in that crop top and those fishnets, thinks of ripping them open and getting his mouth on him. He thinks about Jimin’s lips on his, imagines them soft and plush, straining around his cock, drool collecting at the corner of his lips while he chokes on it.

He comes all over his own stomach.

Clean up is as easy as jumping into the shower and he’s pleased when he comes out to find a text message from Jimin.

From: Park Jiminie:

Thanks for taking me home ! It was good to see you <3 sleep well, Yoongi