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“Alright, guys. How does a short break sound to you all?” Hoseok suggests once they finish up the current repetition of the choreography, breathing heavily.
The other six agree in no time—it’s been three hours of non-stop practicing already, and they’re all starting to grow a little tired.
Jimin drops down on the floor, where his bag is located, in no time, taking a couple deep breaths as he reaches for his water bottle. He absently notices Jungkook sitting down next to him, though the majority of his focus remains on whatever the others are doing.
Staff members, Hoseok still focusing while walking around, Namjoon on his phone, Taehyung next to him, Jin walking through the practice room, and Yoongi on the chair near the huge mirror—Jimin’s gaze remains on Yoongi for a little while, watching as he fidgets around with his phone.
The man is looking extra fine again today. Baggy cargo jeans, dark shirt, a loose jacket on top. Strands of his dark hair peek out of the cap he’s wearing. How could Jimin not feel the urge to look at him every given chance?
Eventually, he’s forced to look away when Yoongi suddenly raises his head and almost meets his gaze through the mirror.
“Oh, I can’t wait for our next concert,” Jimin tells Jungkook, simply to distract himself a little. “It’s exhausting and stressful—but it’s also so damn rewarding.”
Jimin feels nostalgia surge, just by thinking about it. After such a long break, it’s just so exciting to reunite with Armys, perform old songs, and feel the adrenaline of thousands of people cheering for them.
“Certainly. Though we have a lot of practicing to do before.” Jungkook straightens his spine and tilts his head to the side, cracking his muscles. “My bones are getting old, I can feel it.”
“Oh, come on! When I was your age, I was doing just fine!” Jimin retorts, nudging him with enough strength to almost push him over. “You’re not a grandpa—you’re still in your twenties!”
“Yeah-” Jungkook looks him up and down, lips curling into a little smile. “-unlike you, huh?”
“Fuck you, actually.”
As Jimin looks away to express his annoyance, his gaze unintentionally ends up on Yoongi again. He’s still on his phone, still in the same spot, but the way he raises his hands seems like he’s about to take a photo.
Jimin makes up his mind in the gist of a second. He neglects Jungkook, who’s still teasing him, and walks over to his Hyung, positioning himself right behind the chair. Confused, Yoongi lowers the phone and looks over his shoulder to meet his gaze.
“Now what are you up to?” Yoongi asks, tilting his head at him.
“I saw you—are you going to post that? I wanna be in the photo, too!” Jimin leans a little to the side, smiling and showing a piece-sign as Yoongi raises the phone again. Though sure Yoongi already took it, he still remains in the position, only opening his eyes to look at Yoongi through the mirror. “Armys are gonna love it—they love photos of us.” Jimin winks, and Yoongi raises a brow, phone still up.
“Are you Armys?” Yoongi teases, and just as Jimin is about to release a chuckle, he hears the sound of a photo being taken.
“Wait, pause!” Jimin straightens up, frantically shaking his head at Yoongi. “Now I must look so off guard!” Jimin approaches his Hyung from behind, so that he’s able to look over his shoulder and get an impression of the horrible photo he must’ve taken.
In fact, Jimin’s expression looks ridiculous. Eyes closed, neither a smile nor something serious. Just ridiculous. Yoongi, however—the little smirk catches Jimin’s attention so much, he totally forgets about himself.
“See? I look terrible!” Jimin drops his chin on Yoongi’s shoulder with a little pout, arm looping around him to get a hold of the phone. Their hands touch, slightly distracting Jimin from his main goal of getting a better view.
“I think you look awesome,” Yoongi replies, voice a sudden pitch lower. It makes Jimin smile.
“You know—usually, people take more than one photo, so they can choose the best later on.” Jimin’s gaze flicks to the mirror in front of them, to the reflection of their sudden proximity caused by himself. It’s in his favor that Yoongi is too focused on the screen of his phone to notice.
There’s not much Jimin can deny about the fact that he likes being close to Yoongi. He never could and he never will. Yoongi has that special spot in his heart, which is reserved for only him.
“It’s about capturing the moment, not an entire scene to choose the best,” Yoongi argues back, head suddenly rising to meet Jimin’s gaze through the mirror. “While not perfect, it captures your reaction to my words.”
“Huh. I guess you got a point.” In reality, all that reaches Jimin is blah blah. His looks, his pretty voice, the content of his words—Jimin can’t possibly focus on all of it, and he has priorities.
A moment of silence passes, only the voice of the others and their footsteps fill the room. Jimin drops his chin a little more on Yoongi’s shoulder, eyes momentarily closing as he leans in for his lips to brush Yoongi’s lobe. It’s only a subtle touch, but enough to raise Yoongi’s awareness. He tenses up a little, Jimin can feel it in his shoulder and on the hand that’s still between his own and the phone.
“You smell so good, Hyung,” Jimin murmurs, entirely drawn in by it. Yoongi's remarkable scent, together with the strong cologne flutters Jimin’s brain thoroughly. Out of reflex, he leans in and places a gentle peck on the exposed skin of his throat.
“Jimin, ah…” Yoongi tilts his head away before Jimin manages a second kiss, his shoulder tensing up more.
“I know, I know-” Jimin opens his eyes, searching for Yoongi’s face in the mirror. Clenched jaw, eyes squeezed shut. “Not in front of the others, let alone staff,” he repeats what Yoongi had to tell him more than once already.
Stupid rules for stupid situations.
“They’re all busy with themselves. Besides, I’m always like that with you,” Jimin continues to argue, gaze flicking to the other people in the practice room. In fact, none of them is even paying a bit of attention to them. Jungkook, Taehyung, and Namjoon are on their phones, and Hoseok and Jin are reading through the lyrics to their yet unreleased comeback. Staff is busy doing their work as well.
“Yeah, and that’s why Taehyung already knows about this.” Yoongi gives him a look, one that shows he’s still not over it. As if Jimin let that happen on purpose.
“Oh, Hyung.” Jimin buries his face in Yoongi’s shoulder, sighing into the thick fabric. “You’ll be the end of me one day—there’s nothing wrong with friends hooking up every now and again. They wouldn’t judge.”
Matter of fact, Jimin is convinced they wouldn’t even care in the first place. One, it’s not their business in any way. Two, it’s so damn obvious by now, it’d be surprising if they were shocked to find out.
“Lets not argue about this right now. We’ve more important things to focus on,” Yoongi decides, not leaving much space for other opinions. He slips his hand out of Jimin’s grip, only to tuck his phone back into his pocket.
“Okay, fine. Whatever you’re saying,” Jimin retorts, half-sarcastic, half-serious. In the end, Yoongi is right—they do have more important things to focus on right now.
With a little huff, Jimin straightens up and cracks his neck, trying for the tension in his body to ease a little. As much as he enjoys practicing, he can’t wait for this session to be over. Hoseok really is torturing them today.
“Alright, break’s over! We gonna do a few more rewinds,” Hoseok instructs, waving for all of them to group up again.
Jimin turns on his heels, but before he’s able to take just one step towards Hoseok, he’s grabbed by his wrist and yanked back. A moment later, he feels Yoongi’s chest press against his back, his breath tickling his lobe.
“Remember, Jiminie. I never said I’m not all here for it once the others are gone. Every now and again—it’s been quite a while since the last again,” Yoongi purrs into his ear, voice low, quiet enough for only him to hear it. Then, without waiting for a reply, Yoongi passes him and heads to the other five already waiting for them.
After a deep breath for his composure, Jimin follows along, only listening to Hoseok’s further instructions with one ear before moving on to his beginning position for the choreography.
Yeah, Jimin will remember that.
Three more, exhausting hours later, they eventually decide to call it a day. It was a good practice, which offered quite the progress and improvements. By the end of the day, they’re all satisfied with it, and that’s all that counts.
“Actually, Yoongi Hyung and I talked earlier,” Jimin announces while they’re all getting ready to head out. The one that gives him the most confused look is Yoongi himself. “Hyung told me he’s not quite confident with a step for the new choreography yet. We might actually stay a little longer, so I can help him out.” The nod Jimin gets in return for his glance of reassurance tells him Yoongi is okay with that.
“I mean, go ahead,” Namjoon replies with a shrug, bag already shouldered.
“Make sure not to overwhelm yourselves too much. We have enough time left,” Jin adds with a hint of worry, but Jimin just brushes it off with a deliberate hand gesture.
“We're good, promise. We’ll go all easy—it’s just about the order, the timing for each step.” Jimin drops his bag on the ground again, watching as the others except for Yoongi slowly aim for the door out. Staff has already left a few minutes ago, once their tasks were done.
Yoongi steps up to his side in the meantime, phone in one hand, a bottle of water in the other.
“Well, then. See you guys tomorrow, huh?” Jungkook, the last one to leave the room, says. He offers them a brief bow, then closes the door behind him, leaving the two all by themselves in the practice room.
The second the door shuts close, Jimin narrows his gaze to Yoongi, silently watching as he wraps up his things. One more sip of water, then he places both phone and bottle where they don’t get in the way. Without a care, he walks closer to the huge mirror, gaze narrowing to Jimin’s reflection just a few feet behind him.
“You’re unbelievable, Jiminie. I’m giving you such a great teaser for what we’re gonna do after practice, and you—you just make it even longer.” Yoongi huffs, head dropping, hands reaching for the band of his pants to fix their position.
“Well-“ Jimin uses the moment of distraction to move closer, leaving only one foot between them. “-the conditions were once the others are gone…I don’t see anyone around anymore.” He places his hands on Yoongi’s shoulders, which makes him snap his head up.
“Jimin-ah…someone could enter any moment,” Yoongi mumbles, voice low, but he deliberately leans into Jimin’s subtle touch anyway. He presses his back on Jimin’s chest, head falling back on his shoulder with a comfortable sigh.
“That never stopped us before, did it?” Jimin observes through the mirror, watching out for every reaction Yoongi has to his touch. His eyes closing when he puts more pressure on his shoulders, the lip-bite when he leans in to ghost his lips over his throat—oh, how much Jimin loves practice room hookups. They’re rare, but always so damn exciting.
As Jimin presses a proper kiss to his throat, he moves on with his hands, trailing them over Yoongi’s shoulders, arms, all the way down until he eventually reaches his waist. He grips his sides, deliberately pressing their hips together. Yoongi releases a heavy breath in response, his hands reaching for Jimin’s. He places them on top, their fingers intertwining.
“I’ll blame it on you, should anyone walk in.” Yoongi tilts his head to the side, offering Jimin more space to mess around with.
“Yeah, yeah—like always.” Jimin huffs, then places a second, more intense kiss on his throat. His hands move on, too, slipping out of Yoongi’s grip to trail underneath his jacket. Over his sides, soft belly, to the band of his pants.
Their hookups nowadays are rare; it used to be easier under their old circumstances. Sharing a dorm gave more than enough opportunities, whereas living apart with different schedules doesn’t leave much time anymore. Needless to say, it’s not entirely impossible.
“Is Hyung already getting excited?” Jimin teasingly tucks on the band of Yoongi’s pants, not yet slipping his hands past. While keeping one hand on the exact spot, he moves back up with the other, gaze at the mirror as he slowly takes the cap off Yoongi's head to reveal his undone hair.
Fairly long, dark hair. Shorter bangs in the front. Jimin loves the fact that Yoongi has been letting it grow out again after military service. It just suits him so much.
“You gotta put a little more effort into it, huh? You’re not even doing anything yet,” Yoongi replies, teasing, lips curled into a little smirk.
“Oh, yeah? You wanna rush it again?” Jimin turns him around with one smooth motion, their bodies fully pressing together in no time. “Always way too impatient, goddamn.” With one hand underneath Yoongi’s chin, he closes the distance between them, their lips meeting, hesitant at first but quickly growing in intensity.
Yoongi does what Jimin did just a moment ago—he takes the cap Jimin is still wearing and tosses it to the ground, his hands reaching for the blonde hair right after. He threads through it, the tips of his fingers gently scraping his scalp. A low hum leaves Yoongi as Jimin nudges his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, then he eagerly invites him in, a second, deeper hum following.
Jimin doesn’t bother wasting much time anymore. He slips one hand inside Yoongi’s pants and presses his palm on his crotch, ripping a suppressed groan from him. He repeats it with more pressure, again and again, until Yoongi is almost moaning into the kiss.
“Better?” Jimin buries his free hand in the strands on the back of Yoongi’s head, pulling a little, making him return his gaze.
“Yeah…S’ good.” Yoongi bites his lip, face scrunching up as Jimin presses down on his crotch again.
“Thought so.” Jimin slips his hand out of his pants, not to neglect but to move on. He takes a couple steps closer to the mirror, which forces Yoongi to follow along, then turns him around, so he can face himself. “Here, you can see for yourself-” Without a warning, Jimin slips two of his fingers past Yoongi’s lips, teeth scraping his knuckles as he pushes deeper. “-what you’re doing, simply because I tell you to.” Yoongi nods a little, brows pinching together, tongue pressing against the underside of Jimin's fingers.
A simple but effective way to get Yoongi worked up. He enjoys seeing it, Jimin figured that out the first time they misused the practice room.
Yoongi continues to eagerly suck, lick, and mess around with the fingers inside his mouth. His gaze never leaves the mirror—never stops observing his own doing. Jimin’s arm wraps around his waist, pulls him closer, and makes sure to steady him when he leans his torso forward for an even better view.
Jimin teasingly pushes his fingers a little deeper, enough to rip a suppressed choke from Yoongi. He repeats the motion, listens to his struggling noises, until tears spring into his eyes. It makes him smirk, a jolt of excitement piercing right through his abdomen.
Min Yoongi, world famous rapper. Or just his little toy when no one’s looking.
“Pretty, ain’t it?” Jimin teases, gaze glued to Yoongi’s reflection in the mirror. He can’t help but bite his lip when Yoongi nods in response. He eases the pressure of his fingers, keeping them inside his mouth but making him struggle less.
Yoongi squeezes his thighs together, his flat tongue pressing a little more against Jimin’s fingers. He pushes his hips back, deliberately working his ass against his crotch.
“Mhh, yeah—getting me all worked up.” Jimin dips his head, pushing a deep groan into the thick fabric of Yoongi’s jacket. Every motion of Yoongi makes him tense up more and more, and the need to finally fuck him wraps around every part of his brain.
When Jimin is certain it’s enough, he withdraws his fingers and lowers his hand to simply appreciate Yoongi for a moment. Flushed cheeks, glassy eyes, brows still pinched together, shaky breaths escaping his slightly parted lips, a few drops of saliva on them. Heaving body, thighs still squeezed together, hands gripping the arm around his waist—his Hyung is so damn pretty.
“Jimin-ah…” Yoongi manages in a whisper, head dipping slightly. With messy motions, he reaches for his pants and undoes the button, letting them slide down his legs. His boxers follow right away, and Jimin eagerly catches a glimpse of his already rock-hard cock. Yoongi puts a little more strength into his own legs again instead of entirely leaning against Jimin, though still obviously relying on the arm around his waist.
“Keep watching,” Jimin instructs as he presses the tip of his first finger against him. Yoongi whimpers in response, his shoulders rising visibly.
While slipping the entirety of his finger inside him, Jimin leans in to place more messy kisses across his throat, cheek, and lobe. He withdraws his finger, only to rock it back inside and rip a heavy groan from his Hyung, who’s painfully gripping his arm again.
“Fuck, Jimin-ah—” Yoongi groans, his torso leaning further away again. It forces Jimin to stop kissing his pale skin, but allows him to narrow his gaze back to the mirror.
Jimin can see Yoongi frequently switch his focus between them two, and the flush on his cheeks has gotten more visible. Sweat coats his forehead, the strands of his bangs are a little damp already.
By the time Yoongi has gotten used to one finger, Jimin gently adds a second. He works both inside, twisting and crooking slightly, making sure to properly relax him first. Yoongi continues to become more and more undone, his noises grow more infrequent, and his body keeps tensing up in anticipation.
Jimin eventually withdraws his fingers entirely, both because he’s sure it’s enough and because he himself can’t wait any longer. His cock is throbbing inside his pants, and his nerves are on full edge. Excitement pierces through his abdomen as he momentarily releases Yoongi’s waist to fasten and pull down his own sweatpants and boxers at once. He hurriedly spits into his own hand, groaning as he pumps a loose fist over himself to distribute it.
Jimin loops his arm around Yoongi’s waist again and pulls him closer, the head of his throbbing cock already pushing inside him. He rolls his head back, eyes only half-lidded. Through the mirror, he can see Yoongi clench his thighs again, and he can feel him shudder.
“Jimin-ah, fuck—no teasing,” Yoongi manages, voice hoarse, a whimper following.
Jimin huffs; before he can make up his mind and contemplate whether he wants to tease him a little or give it to him right away, it’s Yoongi who decides for him. He pushes his hips back without hesitation, moaning highly as the entirety of Jimin’s cock slips inside him.
“Please, Jiminie—let me have it,” Yoongi cries out, his hand reaching for Jimin’s. Their fingers intertwine, which is enough for Jimin’s brain to short-circuit.
Jimin rocks his hips back, only to thrust inside him. He repeats it, over and over again, picking up a gentle yet deliberate pace. Yoongi moans or whimpers together with each motion, the majority of his weight held up by Jimin rather than himself—he can be glad Jimin is strong enough for both of them.
“Like that? Hyung? Wanna have it like that?” Jimin eagerly looks over Yoongi’s shoulder to see their reflection. “Hey, don’t do that! I’m putting a lot of effort into offering you a pretty view,” Jimin mutters once he notices Yoongi has his eyes closed, punctuating it with a slight tug on his hair.
“Yeah, ngh- like that!” Yoongi opens his eyes, just like Jimin tells him to, and meets his gaze for a moment. Then, he moves on to look at himself, and Jimin does the same.
Scrunched up face, thighs clenched, entirely leaning into Jimin’s touch, body jostling together with each thrust—Jimin can’t help but smirk. He hooks his other arm around his torso as well to make him stand a little more upright, using the opportunity to bury his face in the crook of his neck. He nudges the spot he knows is the most sensitive with the tip of his tongue, inhales his sweet scent, and tightens his arms around his body.
Yoongi leans into his touch as much as possible, his moans growing just a little louder. His body shivers, back arching off Jimin’s chest.
“Mhh, Yoongi Hyung-” Jimin tilts his head a little, his lips brushing Yoongi’s lobe. He keeps his voice low and teasing. “-what’d you think Armys would say if they found out you rather take my cock all nice and well than practice for our comeback?” Jimin picks up his pace a little, eagerly fucking into him.
Yoongi chokes out a whine; if it wasn’t for Jimin, he’d definitely be unable to keep standing upright any longer. His head falls back on Jimin's shoulder, legs already trembling slightly.
“Ngh- bet a lot would love to find out…you know damn well we’re getting shipped.” Yoongi still tries hard to keep his eyes on them, though Jimin catches him squeezing them shut every now and again. It excites him, seeing Yoongi struggle this much.
“And they got a point with it, don’t they?” Jimin smirks as their eyes lock through the mirror; a jolt of heat rushes through his veins, a deep groan leaving his lips.
While one arm stays around Yoongi’s waist, he uses his other hand to slip underneath the jacket and shirt. He places it on Yoongi's bare belly, feeling every deep and heavy breath. Short, infrequent, shaky—anything but steady.
“Hyung’s all mine to mess around with,” Jimin purrs into Yoongi’s ear; in response, he receives a whimper that's a pitch higher than usual. Yoongi eagerly pushes against his thrusts, his head dipping forward.
Jimin trails his hand further up; he can feel Yoongi’s ribs ridge underneath his skin, they get more noticeable with each inhale. Eventually, he reaches further. The tips of his fingers map the outline of his chest, sides, hard nipples, all the way until he reaches his collarbones.
Jimin picks up his pace, once again, and Yoongi shudders. Jimin’s name leaves his lips in a moan. “Touch me there—again. Please…” To punctuate what exactly he means, Yoongi takes Jimin’s hand to guide it back to his chest.
With a huff, Jimin does exactly what he’s told to. Palm, the tips of his fingers, a gentle brush, putting more pressure on it—every touch turns Yoongi more and more into an undone mess. His moans become less powerful, the energy practically flows out of his body, and all that remains is the tension.
“Hyung’s getting exhausted, hm?” Jimin teases, gaze narrowed to their reflection again. Yoongi still jostles together with each rough jerk, and his head is dipped, but his eyes are still on them as well.
Although it has never been Jimin’s idea to fuck in front of a mirror, and he’s still only doing it because Yoongi likes it, he can’t deny that it’s fucking hot to see. Yoongi’s reactions, Yoongi watching himself, the image in general—Jimin loves it so damn much.
“Close, Jiminie—so damn close,” Yoongi whimpers. His body scrunches up, knees bending inwards, toward one another. “Just a little more, hngh-”
Jimin adjusts his rhythm the way he knows Yoongi likes it the most, focusing more on intensity rather than pace. He also slips his hand out of his clothes and loops around him to wrap a tight fist around his dick.
“Oh, Jiminie!” Yoongi chokes out a moan as Jimin picks up a pace matching his thrusts. “I can’t—” A heavy inhale interrupts him, then he silences thoroughly.
“I got you, Hyung,” Jimin mumbles, voice softer than before. “Relax, hm?” He keeps up his pace, gently fucking Yoongi through his high. In the mirror, Jimin can see him squeeze his eyes shut and clutch his jaw slightly.
A few, slow thrusts later, Yoongi exhales together with a whimper. The tension leaves his body as he cums into Jimin’s hand, his breath hitching.
Jimin stills his motions right away, giving him the time to properly calm down first. In the meantime, he trails messy kisses across Yoongi’s jaw and throat, his mind still running high on pleasure.
“Jiminie…let go of me,” Yoongi tells him after a minute, voice hoarse and exhausted.
While not fully knowing what he’s up to, Jimin still withdraws his arm from his waist. It’s not much of a surprise that Yoongi drops down on the floor, given the lack of energy—though a moment later, Jimin realizes it’s been deliberate rather than accidental.
Jimin keeps his head down, watching as Yoongi turns to him, switches to kneeling, and wraps an unsteady fist around his dick. A couple strokes, then his hand is replaced by his soft and wet lips. Yoongi takes his cock into his mouth with fair ease, jaw relaxed, head bobbing lazily.
It’s all happening way too fast for Jimin to form a proper thought about it. His head falls back with a moan, his hand gripping a few strands of Yoongi’s damp hair. He moves it along with each deliberate motion; soon, he finds himself eagerly chasing after his own high.
Yoongi’s mouth is hot and wet and it feels just so fucking good. The visual appeal—seeing their reflection and the actual Yoongi in the corner of his eye eventually pushes him over the edge, too.
Jimin unintentionally jerks deeper into his mouth, chasing after the warmth, the head of his cock slipping down his throat. Yoongi chokes out a moan, swallows down on him—and Jimin loses it. With a deep grunt, he cums inside Yoongi’s mouth. The tension finally dissolves, and he relaxes, too.
Yoongi pulls off a moment later, but he doesn’t yet bother to get up from the floor. Instead, he patiently waits until Jimin locks eyes with him, then swallows—heavy enough for Jimin to see it.
“Holy shit, Hyung-” Oh, how much Jimin loves seeing that. It’s just so damn awesome.
Yoongi huffs before letting himself fall on his back, arms and legs stretched out, eyes closed—he pretty much represents a sea star on the seabed.
“Fuck this. A hundred years of sleep wouldn’t make up for this day. Six hours practicing, and now this. Oh, I’m exhausted!” Yoongi whines, lower lip jutting into a pout.
“You’ll manage,” Jimin retorts, teasing. He can’t help but laugh over his Hyung’s ridiculous demeanour. “Perhaps, choosing not to continue with a blowjob after I already fucked all the energy out of you would’ve made it a little better,” he adds with a smirk.
Since there’s only one hand Jimin is currently able to use—the other is still a mess—it looks a little pathetic when he tries to pull up his pants again. Boxers, he manages first try. Pants, they take a couple of attempts because they’re too loose to just stay at his waist once he reaches for the drawstring. And tie it with only one hand? He's too cum-brained to even consider it.
“Exhausting, but mess-effeicient,” Yoongi argues, which makes Jimin snort out another laugh.
“Mess-efficient?”
“Yeah! Now, we don’t need to clean up anything. That means we can leave faster, and I can enjoy my comfortable bed earlier.” Yoongi opens his eyes, winking together with a lazy grin. It turns into a half-hearted laugh once he pays enough attention to Jimin to notice his futile attempts.
“Hey, don’t laugh at me! We certainly need to clean my hand,” Jimin mutters, brows pinching together into a frown—unmeant, but theatrical.
Yoongi still chuckles as he sits up, hands reaching for Jimin’s pants. Without a word, he helps him pull up and ties the drawstring for him. “Which certainly takes less than concerning ourselves with the floor, let alone our clothes.” After approving of his work, Yoongi rises to his feet and fully dresses himself as well.
At first, Yoongi seems like he’s planning on passing Jimin, but then he suddenly holds in his tracks, turns to him, and squints a little. Jimin, who has no clue what he’s thinking about it, tilts his head and returns the squint.
A moment of silence passes before Yoongi’s next move. He grips the neckline of Jimin’s sweater, yanks him closer, and claims his lips for a kiss. It’s soft and gentle, unlike the kisses they’ve shared earlier already.
Jimin can’t help but get a little lost in it. He closes his eyes and cups Yoongi’s cheek with his clean hand, his brain fizzling out.
“I really enjoyed it, Jiminie. Thanks,” Yoongi murmurs, voice soft.
It’s one of those moments again. Nothing more than a gentle kiss, a mutual sharing of affection—but it’s one of those moments Jimin won’t get out of his head for the next few days. He’ll keep thinking about it, fall asleep to these thoughts at night, and forever wonder what it is that captivates him so much.
They wrap things up quickly. Jimin cleans his hand with a tissue Yoongi hands him, then properly washes them in the restroom down the hallway. They take their stuff, briefly approve of the practice room, and head out of the building, to the parking lot on the west side.
“Don’t forget to post the photo, by the way,” Jimin reminds just before their ways are supposed to part, given they parked their cars on opposite sides.
“Right.” Yoongi holds in his tracks right away, taking his phone from his pocket. With a few clicks, he opens instagram and successfully posts the photo in his story—no text, no tagging. The typical Yoongi-posting-way.
Jimin looks over Yoongi’s shoulder, watching his phone as he refreshes the page and clicks on Namjoon’s recent story. The image makes both of them chuckle.
“Damn, I didn’t even notice he was also taking a photo,” Jimin comments on the story, which shows the exact moment the two took a photo together. Namjoon is in the middle of the room, capturing the huge mirror that shows all of them.
“Neither did I.” Yoongi shrugs before tucking the phone back into his pocket. “See you tomorrow, Jimin-ah. Huh?”
Jimin nods absently, his gaze flicking to Yoongi’s lips for a brief moment. Soft, gentle, perfect.
“Yeah, yeah—tomorrow,” Jimin manages by the time he returns to reality. He adds a quick nod and calls it a day.
Their ways part as each walks to their own car. Yoongi is casual and tired. Jimin is thoughtful and way slower than usual. He eventually reaches his car, gets in, and pulls off the parking lot a few minutes after Yoongi.
One of those moments again.