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pull me closer in the backseat of your rover

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The thing with Taehyung--and there was always a thing with Taehyung, no matter what it was about--was that when there was a person he liked, he didn’t pull any punches.

He always went full out, trying to at least become friends. Talking to them fearlessly after class or whatever event he met them at, getting their number, and almost always ending up far enough in their good graces enough for them to invite him to hang out. Where things went from there varied, but at the beginning, the equation was always the same.

And so that was how Jimin found himself at this party--kind of too hot, too crowded, just a little bit too much, as these things tended to be--being thrown by a guy named Hoseok, who Jimin had seen around before in the dance department, and was apparently friends with Jin, who was the tall, gorgeous blond that Taehyung currently had A Thing for. Jin had invited Taehyung last time they had seen each other--Jimin knew this because Taehyung had gone over this conversation, as he had all other conversations between himself and Jin, with him approximately a thousand hundred million times--and told him to bring friends which was why Jeongguk and Jimin were brought along.

As he was wont to do during events like these, Jeongguk was long gone doing who knows what who knows where with who knows who, and Jimin knew from experience that he wouldn’t materialize again until he knew Jimin and Taehyung were leaving, suddenly appearing like the mothership had called him home.

Taehyung had zoomed off too, telling Jimin that Jin had been spotted, and Jimin knew that was about as good as a “so long, farewell” for the rest of the night. Jimin was sure that he wouldn’t see Taehyung until Jin went home, with or without Taehyung himself.

So Jimin was at this kind of too hot, too crowded, just a little too much party, but he really didn’t mind. There were worse places to be alone, and he could always dance. So dance he did, until he became sweaty and thirsty, and made his way over to the refreshment table, which was just an assortment of chip crumbs, half smashed cupcakes, and a bowl of ominous looking blue punch.

Jeongguk was the designated driver tonight, so why not live a little. Jimin took a sip of the ominous looking blue punch, knew immediately that it was dangerous, and took another sip.

“You looked good out there,” someone said, and Jimin looked up to see a boy about the same height looking at him. He was cute, with oversized glasses that looked like they were more for fashion than anything, and wearing all black. Jimin grinned. He could work with this.

“Thanks,” Jimin said, taking another drink of the punch, which hardly tasted like alcohol at all, the true sign of danger. He took a step towards to the boy as he did so, not as much to get out of the way of anyone else who would be content with crumbs as it was to get closer to him.

The boy smirked, like he knew this. Dangerous.

“Yoongi,” the boy said as he nodded, switching over from the stranger column to something slightly more friendly.

“Jimin.”

Yoongi smirked again, taking a swig of his beer. “I know,” he said. “I’ve seen you around.”

“How? I’ve never seen you.” Jimin kept smiling, letting himself get drawn in and flirt back.

“You’re in the dance department, like Hoseok, right? He’s my roommate. Free tickets to every single production the department ever puts on.”

“So, what do you think is better? How I dance on stage, or how I was moving out there?”

Yoongi shook his head before opening his mouth.

This was how Jimin found himself in the hallway of Yoongi and Hoseok’s apartment, Yoongi holding his wrist as the navigated through the party. His hand was warm, thumb on the soft part of Jimin’s wrist, right on his pulse.

Jimin couldn’t wait to get those hands on the rest of him.

Yoongi stopped at the last door on the right side, only to find it locked. He muttered a curse, before slapping the wood. “Hey assholes, that’s my room! You better be buying me a fucking new pair of sheets.” He turned to Jimin after pounding on the door one last time.

“Sorry,” he said, looking faintly embarrassed in the dim light that was coming from the living room.

Jimin shrugged. “Who cares?” He had made out with guys in way worse places than a hallway.

He stepped closer to Yoongi, making sure they were eye to eye, and took off his glasses before putting them in the back pocket of his jeans. He used that as an excuse to put his hands on Yoongi’s ass before leaning in and kissing him.

Yoongi stiffened in surprise before he finally, finally kissed back, opening his mouth and grabbing the back of Jimin’s neck, other hand on his hip. They kissed for what seemed like forever, but also no time at all, in the hallway. Yoongi leaned against the wall and his hand made its way into Jimin’s hair as Jimin stepped closer, bringing them chest to chest.

Yoongi’s lips were soft, and the kiss was just on the right side of slick. Yoongi definitely knew how to use his tongue, and Jimin felt himself moaning into the kiss, hoping to God that whoever was in Yoongi’s room would hurry up when he heard his name being called.

“Jimin,” Jeongguk said, in the sort of tone that let Jimin know the he’d said his name several times. “Come on, we’re leaving.”

“Already?” Jimin whined, forcing himself away from Yoongi. He didn’t want to leave yet, but he also wasn’t going to stay here without a ride. He’d just met Yoongi, and didn’t really know Hoseok, so it wasn’t like he could just crash on the couch or in Yoongi’s bed after.

“Yeah, apparently Jin left so it’s either leave or Taehyung gets trashed.” Jeongguk sounded a little annoyed about it, since he hated leaving parties early, but it couldn’t be helped.

“Raincheck,” Jimin told Yoongi.

“Got it,” Yoongi said, and Jimin smiled and waved before he left him standing there. Jimin could feel Yoongi watching as Jimin and Jeongguk walked to find Taehyung, and knew he’d see him again.

 

The next time Jimin saw Yoongi was two weeks later, after Taehyung announced, “We should have a party.”

Jeongguk and Jimin just stared at him. “Uh....” Jeongguk said. “Why would we want to do that? Do you know how much time cleaning up before and after a party takes? You two have a hard enough time doing the dishes...”

“You let a couple of plates sit in the sink for two weeks-”

“A month. A whole month.”

“-and no one ever lets you forget about it.”

“This is about Jin,” Jimin said, before Taehyung and Jeongguk could get to bickering about The Dirty Plate Situation. Again, “isn’t it?”

“Well, yeah. But you guys can invite whoever you want, and it will be fun. Pleaseeeeeeeee.”

Jimin and Jeongguk exchanged a look, before resigning themselves to this fate. “Sure,” Jimin sighed. “Why not.”

The party was packed, because of course it was. Taehyung probably knew the names of everyone on campus, and the name of their mom, and their little brother, and was friends with all of them too. That was just how he worked.

Their apartment was small, so there wasn’t much room to do anything. Jimin and Jeongguk had locked their rooms, so no one could get in there, which meant everyone was congregated in the kitchen slash living room area, sitting in groups and talking or playing party games.

But despite everything that was going on, Jimin managed to find Yoongi almost immediately. Yoongi wasn’t the kind of person that stood out, he wasn’t tall, or wearing bright clothes, and didn’t radiate some kind of glowing aura, but Jimin saw him not long after he walked in with Hoseok and Jin an hour into the party.

Jimin wasn’t sure what he wanted to do--did he go to cash his check immediately, or did that just make him look too thirsty? did he just pretend that he hadn’t seen Yoongi? did he go up to him later on in the night?--when Yoongi turned and caught him looking.

Yoongi was the one that started walking over to him, which was gratifying, and meant that the decision was out of Jimin’s hands. That was something that he could definitely live with.

“Hey,” Yoongi said, hands in his pockets. He was wearing leather tonight, and his glasses were gone, making him look cooler and somehow younger all at once. Jimin liked that, liked that somehow he could pull off both and still look like he had the first time Jimin had seen him: smooth and attractive and kissable.

“Hey,” Jimin said back, wondering where things were going to go from here. For some strange reason he felt on the edge of something with Yoongi, which was stupid. They had only met the once, and Jimin had no desire to go anywhere beyond the physical with him, or anyone else for that matter. Where things went from here didn’t matter, shouldn’t matter.

And yet. And yet, and yet, and yet, here they were. Yoongi turned that dangerous smirk on him again. “Raincheck?” he asked. “Does that still apply, or is it overdue?”

“You’re right on time, actually,” Jimin said, and grabbed Yoongi’s hand, lacing their fingers together to lead him to his bedroom.

When they made it inside of Jimin’s door, after a bit of fumbling as Jimin struggled to find the key, Jimin turned them around and pressed Yoongi against the door, sliding his hands around Yoongi’s waist to lock the door again.

Jimin could feel Yoongi’s warm breath, they were so close to each other. His eyes were crossing a little in the effort to look at Yoongi properly, so Jimin gave up and just leaned in to kiss him. Heat built between them immediately, just like it had the last time they had made out--there was no softness between them, and that was fine.

It was especially fine when Jimin slid his hand down Yoongi’s front, slowly just in case Yoongi wanted him to stop and pulled his hand away. But when no resistance came, Jimin slid his hand down the front Yoongi’s slightly too big jeans and palmed him through his underwear, causing Yoongi to groan into his mouth.

Jimin liked kissing Yoongi, liked how Yoongi met every kiss with the same intensity and enthusiasm that Jimin himself felt and showed. Jimin liked kissing Yoongi, but he knew there was something that he would like more, so he fell to his knees, and focused on getting the waistband of Yoongi’s down from around his hips. Thankfully, Yoongi was already hard just from some kissing and a hand down his pants, which made all of this easier.

Glancing up at Yoongi, who was watching this all happen with wide eyes and a surprised, opened mouth, Jimin felt like it was totally within his right to go to town on Yoongi’s dick immediately.

Yoongi’s dick wasn’t the biggest thing he’d ever had in his mouth, but it wasn’t the smallest either, and so he started having spit pile up in the corners almost immediately. But that was fine, too, since in Jimin’s experience slicker was typically better.

Jimin had heard Yoongi moan before, when they had kissed, when his hand had cupped around his dick not even ten minutes ago, so when Yoongi’s voice sounded muffled, and when Jimin looked up again he saw that Yoongi had a fist in his mouth, eyes shut tight. That wouldn’t do, not at all.

Jimin took his mouth off Yoongi’s dick, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. When Yoongi finally opened his eyes to see what was going on Jimin wrapped his fingers around his dick and started pumping slowly, so slowly, twisting his wrist for extra friction at the head. “Hey,” Jimin said. “Don’t do that. I want to hear you. Tell me how good I’m doing,” he added as an afterthought, wanting words and sounds both.

“What?” Yoongi said, voice flat.

“If you want me to keep sucking your dick,” Jimin told him sweetly, “then you should tell me that I’m doing well.”

“Um,” Yoongi said, looking a little flustered, but that might just have been because Jimin had started moving his hand faster. “You’re doing really well,” Yoongi said finally, sliding his fingers back into Jimin’s hair. “One of the best blowjobs I’ve ever gotten, seriously, ten out of ten, would put my dick in your mouth again.”

“We’ll work on it, but you should keep going” Jimin said, pleased, and put his mouth on Yoongi’s dick again. This time, Yoongi let himself make noise, and it was mostly just breathy moans but it still affected Jimin.

Jimin liked listening to the guys he had sex with, liked knowing that they were getting off, and that they thought that he was doing a good job. There were guys that didn’t really make any noise, even when they came, but something told Jimin that Yoongi wasn’t exactly like that.

He was right. There was a reason that Yoongi had put his fist in his mouth, because when Jimin wrapped his lips around his dick again, he let out this strangled moan, one that travelled all the way down to Jimin’s own dick.

He was half hard, he realized dimly, from barely any touching at all. Sucking Yoongi’s dick and hearing him moan was enough to make his pants tight. That should have been embarrassing, but it really wasn’t. He just unbuttoned his own pants and slid his hand into his underwear and stroked himself to hardness without pausing what he was doing to Yoongi with his tongue.

“I’m going to come,” Yoongi said eventually, and Jimin knew that before Yoongi told him. Yoongi had kept his hands a respectful distance from Jimin’s hair, staying by his sides or on Jimin’s shoulders, but when his dick started twitching and his thighs were trembling, he slid his fingers into it and grabbed on. Not in a way that hurt, just in a way that let Jimin know that he was there. Jimin liked how it felt.

So when Jimin knew Yoongi was coming he started pumping his own dick faster and relaxed his throat, so he could swallow.

Semen was always disgusting, salty and bitter and gross, but Jimin swallowed it anyway. And besides, it was worth it to see the way Yoongi’s eyes were shining looking down on him. Every guy just looked happier after they came from a blow job, and Jimin liked making people happy.

Jimin came not soon after, gasping as he did so, and managed to catch all of his come in his hand. He wasn’t sure what to do with it after that, all the napkins and paper towels in the kitchen for the party, so he just wiped it on his carpet.

Yoongi snorted, watching him do this, but whatever. It was his room, and he could clean it up later.

They resettled themselves in their pants, and Jimin pushed his (clean) hand through his hair. “Have a good rest of your night,” he told Yoongi, before walking out the door. For the first time all night, he felt like he could use a drink.

 

Things between Taehyung and Jin seemed to be going well, because Jimin got a text in his, Taehyung, and Jeongguk’s group chat that said, JIN INVITED ME TO GET COFFEE WITH HIM AND HIS FRIENDS. A follow up message popped up, that said will u please come with me?!?!?!?!?? with a sticker of a crying onion coming soon after.

Jeongguk had a late class tonight, and reminded them both of that, so Jimin knew that he was required by some kind of Bro Code, even though all he wanted to do was go back to the apartment and collapse in his bed.

Taehyung was definitely paying for his coffee.

Taehyung was already inside the coffee shop, sitting next to Jin and three other guys, when Jimin walked in. “Hey,” Taehyung said, and Jimin walked over.

Jin smiled at him. “Hey Jimin. This is Namjoon, since he’s the only one that you don’t know,” he said.

“Hey,” Namjoon said, moving some of the stack of paper he had in front of him over so there would be more room for Jimin.

“Hey,” Jimin said, and flashed him a smile, before turning to Taehyung. “I want a caramel macchiato,” he informed him.

Taehyung made a face. “I don’t have any more money,” he said, waving his small, and probably black, coffee in Jimin’s face.

“Well neither do I,” Jimin hissed at him.

Before Taehyung could open his mouth again, Yoongi spoke up. “I can cover you,” he said, shrugging.

“Oh, I mean, you don’t have to-” Jimin told him, but Yoongi was already standing.

“Do you really want to be the only guy in this coffee shop without a drink? Besides, I’m your hyung, I don’t mind treating you.” When Jimin still hesitated, Yoongi pushed on, “If you really want to, you can always pay me back.”

“Okay,” Jimin said, and walked over to the counter with Yoongi to order. “Thanks,” he said, while the barista started working on his drink. “I owe you one.”

“Come back next week, and you can buy my drink then.”

“Deal,” Jimin said, and smiled. Yoongi smiled back, and it was gummy, transforming his face into something strangely adorable. Jimin felt himself melt a little at the sight for seemingly no reason.

When Yoongi and Jimin got back to the table where the others were sitting, they were in the middle of a discussion about Mario Kart.

“Red shells are the devil’s work,” Hoseok was saying, “and Jin is the worst about using them on everyone he can. Honestly, there’s no mercy with him.”

Namjoon nodded solemnly beside him. “He’s absolute worst,” he agreed, and Jin cackled.

“What, am I supposed to be nice and let you win?” he asked. “What’s the fun in that? If I’m playing her, Princess Peach deserves first place.”

“Hey, my character is Luigi,” Taehyung said, even though that wasn’t true. At all. Jimin knew for a fact he that he always played Toad if he had the chance. “We should play together some time.”

“I’ll still cream you,” Jin told him. “But yeah, we should.” Jin smiled at him, and Jimin was again struck by why Taehyung seemed to be so attracted to this guy. He was gorgeous.

Suddenly Namjoon’s phone beeped, and he stood up suddenly. “I’ve got to go,” he announced, shoving his mess of notes and highlighters and pens into his backpack. “I’ve got a, uh, thing.”

Jin leaned towards Jimin and Taehyung and stage whispered, “He’s ditching us to go write poetry with a girl.”

“Hey, Namjoon,” Hoseok called. “Have you figured out how many words rhyme with ‘Taeyeon noona’ yet?”

“Fuck you,” Namjoon told him, as Jin, Yoongi, and Hoseok all started laughing. “I’m definitely leaving now, bye.”

“Actually, I’m kind of hungry,” Jin said once Namjoon was out the door. “Who wants to go see if one of the dining halls on campus has anything decent to eat?”

“I will,” Taehyung, predictably, said, already standing up. “The one by the dorm Jimin and I used to live at is all you can eat on Thursdays.”

“That sounds perfect.” Jin smiled at Taehyung again, this one just for him and not residual of the conversation, and Jimin could see Taehyung melting already. “Anyone else coming?”

Hoseok shrugged. “I’m in.”

Jin looked at Jimin and Yoongi. Yoongi shook his head. “I’m good,” he said, and then glanced at Jimin. It took a second for that look to click.

Oh.

“I’m not hungry either, I’ll pass,” Jimin told them.

Taehyung frowned, but Hoseok just made a disparaging noise in the back of his throat. “Just clean up after yourselves if you do anything in shared living spaces,” he said, to which Yoongi threw one of his damp napkins at him.

“Shut up,” he growled, but didn’t deny anything.

Jimin just laughed.

 

Not ones to pretend, Yoongi and Jimin made a beeline straight to Yoongi’s room once they got to his apartment.

They kissed for a few minutes, Yoongi’s mouth still dark and rich from the coffee that he had drank not even an hour before, when he pulled away.

Yoongi pushed him, gently, onto his bed. “I didn’t get to touch you at all, last time,” he grumbled into Jimin’s neck, where he was nipping with his teeth before he soothed the pain with his tongue. Jimin tilted his neck to give Yoongi better access, even while he laughed breathlessly.

“I know,” he said, and when Yoongi pulled away he was still laughing.

“Can I touch you now, then?” he asked. Jimin didn’t want this to get heavy, to get bogged down by whatever was in Yoongi’s expression, so he just nodded and wrapped his fingers around Yoongi’s hand and led his hand to the waistband of his pants.

“Touch me however you want,” Jimin whispered in Yoongi’s ear, hot and breathy as Yoongi got the memo.

With permission, all of Yoongi’s hesitance seemed to melt away. He kissed Jimin’s mouth once, twice, three times, before pushing him over so that Jimin’s back was pressed to his front. He didn’t try to take off Jimin’s shirt, but he did press his hand to Jimin’s stomach, making a surprised sound at what he found there.

“Yeah, I’m hot,” Jimin said sweetly, and Yoongi pressed his lips to Jimin’s throat before pressing his teeth down there lightly in retaliation.

“Shut up,” he mumbled, and Jimin could feel him moving to lick his palm before he wrapped a sure hand around Jimin’s dick. It was weirdly hot, and wet, and his hands lifted immediately, to chase the feeling of Yoongi’s hand.

“Calm down,” Yoongi told him, kissing Jimin’s neck. Jimin couldn’t withhold his gasps or moans with every stroke of Yoongi’s hand, but Yoongi didn’t seem to mind hearing them. He just moved faster every time a sound came out of Jimin’s mouth, so it really wasn’t a surprise that Jimin came faster than he wanted to.

It was embarrassingly fast, really, and Yoongi was smirking when Jimin came too and found him cleaning off his hand with baby wipes. “Here,” he said, throwing a baby wipe on Jimin’s stomach, where most of the mess was. But instead of leaving Jimin to his own devices, he was the one that ran the wipe over Jimin’s skin until he was all clean.

“Thanks, hyung,” Jimin said in surprise, and Yoongi just grunted, getting up to throw away everything in the garbage. Jimin grabbed his wrist before he could get too far.

“Wait, we’re not done are we?” Jimin looked down at Yoongi’s boxers, which were still on, but Yoongi’s dick was still obviously hard.

“If you want to be,” Yoongi said, shrugging like he didn’t care.

“I can’t let you buy me coffee and not get you off too,” Jimin said, frowning.

Yoongi just shook his head. “I didn’t do it because I wanted you to get me off too, what the fuck, you can’t pay me back for the coffee in sexual favors.”

“I already told you I’d get you coffee next week,” Jimin said. “I just want to give you an orgasm now.”

“Don’t you get embarrassed saying shit like that,” Yoongi asked, turning his face but not before Jimin could see a blush starting there.

“I like getting you off, Yoongi,” Jimin said, standing up now. He still had his fingers around Yoongi’s wrist and felt when his pulse jumped slightly. “Please let me.”

“Alright, alright, just let me throw this away,” Yoongi said, pushing Jimin back onto the mattress as he went into the bathroom to get rid of the trash from the first round. Jimin smiled at the ceiling as he waited for Yoongi to come back, knowing that he was gonna make it worth his while.

 

Weekly coffee became a ritual after that. With Jimin’s standing promise to Yoongi to pay him back, both Jimin and Taehyung had an excuse to keep coming back and hanging out with Jin’s friends. Not that Taehyung needed to rely on Jimin as an excuse, since he and Jin seemed to be doing just fine, but the safety net was always there.

Jimin expected Yoongi to be the kind of guy that got his coffee black--he just seemed like the type, honestly-but apparently Yoongi liked his coffee with enough flavoring, sugar, and cream to give a cow diabetes.

“You know, when I first met you, I never would’ve guessed you’d be the kind of guy that would have a coffee order that was taller than you are,” Jimin hummed into his drink, which was simple, on the menu, and so perfectly respectable, thank you very much.

“It’s taller than you too,” Yoongi told him.

“Haha,” Jimin said. “Seriously, though. You’ve got the most complicated drink order that I’ve ever seen.”

“I know what I like,” Yoongi said, and looked Jimin over, his eyes practically twinkling as he tried to bite down on his smile.

Jimin’s heart fluttered, despite himself. “Lucky for me, and your coffee potion, huh?”

“Lucky you,” Yoongi said, and took his drink from the counter so they could go join the others.

After they all got coffee--which was really an excuse for everyone to pretend to be doing homework, though most of the time Namjoon was the only one Jimin ever saw working on actual assignments--they would all disperse. Jin, and Taehyung, and Hoseok would go get dinner, with Jeongguk joining them after his class more often than not. Namjoon would go to his poetry writing sessions with the ever elusive Taeyeon noona.

And Yoongi and Jimin would go and hook up. It was a great system, if Jimin said so himself. He liked Jin’s friends, and felt like they became his own, eventually. And he liked having sex with Yoongi regularly.

Yoongi was good, at everything, and he actually listened to Jimin when Jimin told him what he liked or didn’t like, which wasn’t something Jimin could say about every hook up he’d ever had. Of course he didn’t want it to stop, or make any changes in his routine. Everything just felt like it was working out so well. It didn’t have anything to do with Yoongi specifically.

The routine was nice, and it happened just about every Thursday, until Yoongi told Jimin, once everyone had left, “I don’t know if I can hook up today, if you want to go get dinner with everyone else.”

Jimin just stared at him. “Is this...because you don’t want to hook up, or because you actually can’t. Because, you don’t have to lie. Just tell me and I’ll do whatever you want with me.”

“No,” Yoongi said, eyes wide. “I, uh, want to keep hooking up with you. I just really have to work on this midterm presentation that’s due on Monday. I’m not trying to blow you off.”

“Oh.” Jimin rubbed the edges of his backpack straps with his fingertips. He didn’t really want to be alone, and he didn’t really want to go to dinner with the others, either. “I can just...study with you, if you want? I have some homework to do too. And I promise I’ll be quiet, mostly.”

Yoongi visibly relaxed. He snorted, before saying, “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“Hey, I can be very quiet! I’m very studious. I’ll have you know I’ve had a 4.0 basically the entire time I’ve been in college. First semester your freshman year doesn’t count.”

“Smart too, huh? I knew I picked a winner,” Yoongi said. “Come on, let’s go.”

They studied for hours, Yoongi barely even looking up from his laptop, and afterwards Yoongi made them ramen. He’d never cooked for Jimin before, and even though it was just ramen, Jimin couldn’t help but feel somewhat impressed anyway. None of his hook ups had ever cooked for him before.

“Thanks,” Jimin said, when Yoongi handed him the bowl.

“It’s just ramen.” Yoongi shrugged.

“No really,” Jimin continued. “This was fun. Not as much fun as sex, but you know, it was nice.”

Yoongi smiled, something small and almost private. “Yeah,” he said. I thought so too.”

 

Yoongi was the one that brought up having penetrative sex. They had been walking to Yoongi and Hoseok’s apartment after getting coffee, where Yoongi had barely looked at Jimin the entire time. He’d thought that was weird, but his irritation was soothed when Yoongi began, “I don’t really know how to start this conversation, or even ask, but..I kind of. Uh. Want you to put your dick up my ass. If you’re into that.”

Jimin stopped walking to laugh, bending over at the waist. “What?” he said, when he felt like he could finally stand up. He had to wipe tears from his eyes before continuing on. “Sorry, sorry. Just, what? Could you repeat that for me? I’m not sure I heard you the first time.”

Yoongi scowled at him, but the fierceness was clashing with the way red was creeping onto his face. “You know what I said,” Yoongi almost growled at him.

Jimin laughed again, before finally collecting himself all the way. “I just wanted to see if you’d say it again, but fine,” he said. “Yeah, I’m totally into that, actually.”

“Okay. Then we need to stop by the convenience store,” Yoongi said. “I wasn’t sure if you’d say yes and I don’t really...have...anything.”

“That’s sweet,” Jimin said, and grabbed Yoongi’s hand to lead the way. Yoongi seemed so embarrassed and mortified that Jimin wasn’t sure if he’d keep walking without him. “Come on, let’s go.”

Once there, Jimin broke away. “I don’t think we really need ribbed condoms,” Jimin said, loudly. “Or flavored ones, for that matter. You’re full of enough flavor for me.” They were the only two people in the store, other than the cashier, but Yoongi still shot him a glare.

“If you don’t shut up I’ll leave and you won’t get any today.”

“Harsh. You drive a hard bargain, hyung.”

When Yoongi was pleased with what he found--a box of plain condoms and lube--he went to the cashier to pay and walked straight out.

“Hey,” Jimin said. “Wait for me! You can’t use those things without me.”

“You’re so embarrassing, Park Jimin.”

Jimin smiled. “I know,” he said. “Too bad you still want to have sex with me.”

“I do,” Yoongi sighed. “I really, really do.”

When they got to Yoongi’s room, after a bit more arguing, Yoongi sat down on the bed first, which was different. Usually he pushed Jimin down onto the bed, or Jimin was pushing him, but Jimin figured that since there were more logistics when it came to this sort of thing, it made sense.

Jimin took the bag from Yoongi’s hands and got the lube and three wrapped condoms--for the possibility of more than one round, of course, and for the possibility that one of them broke or Jimin tried to open one with his teeth and ripped a hole in one--and put them on Yoongi’s bedside table.

Once that was settled they just stared at each other, the air strangely tense and awkward, before Jimin said, “We should probably just get naked now.”

“You’re right,” Yoongi agreed, and took off his shirt. Jimin was struck again by how pretty Yoongi was. He was pale and thin, but there was strength in his torso, and in his arms. Jimin could spend all day looking at him, probably, but they rarely took off their clothes all the way. Most of the time they just took off their shirts, and maybe their pants if they were really feeling it. This was the first time they’d ever be completely naked and having sex.

Once they were undressed, and sitting on the edge of Yoongi’s bed again, Jimin decided to just go for it. Yoongi had been the one that had brought it up. Yoongi had been the one that said that he wanted Jimin’s dick in his ass.

And if he changed his mind, Yoongi would say that too, Jimin was sure of it. Jimin would do whatever Yoongi wanted, so there was no reason not to press Yoongi into the mattress and start kissing him.

Being naked was nice, because it meant that Jimin could feel Yoongi’s skin against his own. Yoongi’s chest pressed against his own, the way one of Yoongi’s thighs was between Jimin’s, how his dick started getting hard just from the friction of Jimin’s thigh rubbing up against it.

It didn’t take long for both of them to become fully hard and gasping, kissing and breathing each other’s air. Yoongi had one of his hands in Jimin’s hair, which was damp from sweat now. Jimin leaned down to kiss Yoongi one more time, and Yoongi’s fingers clenched by default, before pulling away to ask, “Are you sure about this?”

Yoongi nodded. “I’m sure,” he said out loud, when he realized that Jimin wasn’t going to take just a nod for an answer.

“Then you should turn over.”

Yoongi did so easily, his body still under Jimin’s hands. Jimin didn’t want to stop touching Yoongi, even for a second, even if it made things easier for them both. He liked the picture it made, his skin touching Yoongi’s, and he looked for just a bit longer before reaching over to grab the lube.

Yoongi made a choked sound when Jimin pressed a finger inside of him, gently, gently, until he bottomed out. “You okay over there?” Jimin asked, stilling his movements.

“I’m fine,” Yoongi said, head hanging in the space between where his forearms were holding him up. “Just keep moving.”

Jimin did as Yoongi asked, making sure to listen to every sound Yoongi made. When Yoongi was moaning in earnest, in a way that made Jimin’s heart beat faster, he added another finger and did his best to find Yoongi’s prostate.

When Yoongi let out a particularly long and drawn out moan, Jimin knew he’d found it. He made sure to try to find it again, the glide of his fingers inside of Yoongi getting easier with every movement, before he removed his fingers completely. He leaned over Yoongi again, supporting himself with one of his arms as he reached over for one of the condoms.

“You’re so pretty, Yoongi,” Jimin said, kissing the back of Yoongi’s neck.

“Shut up,” Yoongi managed to get out. “Hurry up.”

Jimin kissed the back of his neck again before leaning back again. “That’s not very nice,” he said, rolling the condom on.

Just because he could, just because so much of Yoongi’s skin was just there, and he wanted to, Jimin slid his hands down from Yoongi’s chest, all the way to his waist, just wanting to feel him. He left a sticky trail of lube in his wake, but Yoongi didn’t even complain about that.

“Jimin,” Yoongi said, breathless, his voice right on the edge of desperate. “Hurry up, please.”

“Alright,” Jimin said, leaning in to kiss the back of Yoongi’s neck before settling his hands on his hips. “Because you asked so nicely.”

Jimin pushed inside, and listened to Yoongi let out a hiss that sounded suspiciously like his name. He gave Yoongi a minute to adjust, moving only when Yoongi started moving his hips back towards Jimin, making him move even deeper.

Yoongi felt amazing, hot and wet, and Jimin gave into his instincts and did his best to get as deep inside Yoongi as possible. He didn’t manage to always hit the right spots inside Yoongi every time, since this was only the first time, but when he did Yoongi always let him know witth the sounds that he made.

The noises he was making must have become too much for him, because eventually Yoongi reached up and covered his own mouth. That wouldn’t do, not at all. Yoongi knew that, knew that Jimin liked hearing him, but sometimes he still got embarrassed anyway.

Jimin didn’t want him to feel like that, especially not when they were doing something like this, so he stopped moving and reached up to grab Yoongi’s hand and put it back on the mattress, tangling their fingers together so that he wouldn’t move again.

“Just let go,” Jimin whispered hotly in Yoongi’s ear, and he seemed to need that, because he came soon after, one hand on his own cock, the other still entangled with Jimin’s. Jimin pushed into him a few more times before he finally came too, spilling into the condom with a groan.

He collapsed onto Yoongi, who let him lay there without complaining, after he pulled out. Eventually, Yoongi pushed him off, complaining that it was too hot and Jimin was too heavy, but he just made it so they were on the bed facing each other instead.

“You should take a shower before you leave,” Yoongi told him, once he caught his breath.

“I know,” Jimin said, and then leaned in to kiss Yoongi just because he wanted to. Yoongi seemed surprised when Jimin pulled away, eyes wide. “Thanks for letting me use yours,” he said, before getting up.

When he got out of the bathroom, Yoongi had ramen waiting for him.

 

As finals approached, Yoongi and Jimin started just studying more. Jimin found that he had almost as good a time just studying with Yoongi in his bed, facing each other, Yoongi’s feet in his face, as he did having sex with him. He’d never hung out with any of his other fuck buddies like this, actually studying instead of just a pretense for more, but then again none of them had ever asked him to before.

They were sitting on Yoongi’s bed one day, at the point where they were doing homework, but not really doing homework, when Jimin pulled out his phone. “Selca?” he asked, already pulling up his camera.

Yoongi turned to him, pulling out an earphone. “What?”

“Let’s take a couple selca!”

“Now?”

Jimin huffed. “No, in twenty minutes. Yes, of course now.” Without waiting for Yoongi’s approval or excuses, he crawled over to Yoongi and put his phone above their heads and clicked the camera button three times.

Jimin looked good, of course, which was the whole point. Yoongi looked like a mix of surprised and disgruntled in the first picture, resigned in the second, and in the third he looked like he was attempting to smile. It was cute, but also-

“Yah, hyung, what is this? Your fake smiles look so ugly,” Jimin said. “What am I supposed to do with these, I can’t upload them anywhere.”

“What are you talking about?” Yoongi groused, moving his laptop to the ground so he could reach over and take Jimin’s phone from him. “I look fine.”

“You look like you’re in pain. Your real smile is cute, why can’t you look like that for a selca? You need to practice in a mirror or something.”

“You’re so annoying, my face looks good,” Yoongi told him, leaning over to grab his laptop again. But he wasn’t fast enough that Jimin couldn’t see the flush that made its way over his face. Jimin smiled, pleased with himself, and scoot over so that he was closer to Yoongi, no space between them now.

His thumb hovered over the photos, sliding through them again, feeling warmth creep up inside of him. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, deciding to ignore it in favor of opening instagram. But when he saw that picture of Yoongi again, smile awkward and obviously fake, and compared it to the memory of Yoongi’s real smile--gummy and wide, making him look younger and cuter than he had any right to be--and closed the app instead.

He’d rather keep these for himself, he decided.

 

When finals were done, Jimin went back home to Busan with Jeongguk, and Yoongi went to Daegu. They didn’t talk about staying in touch, which made sense since everyone had gotten spectacularly wasted the night after Taehyung--who had the last final--was finished and bought everyone a round of soju.

As much as Jimin loved his family, and loved being home, he still got bored, so eventually he’d tried sexting Yoongi, just to see what would happen.

To: [fire emoji] hyung
is that a daegu in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?

From: [fire emoji] hyung
what? that doesn’t even make sense

To: [fire emoji] hyung
i’m just trying to sext you. work with me here. think it’s sexy, appreciate my wit, picture me sucking your dick

From: [fire emoji] hyung
.....no. i don’t sext people ok i think it’s weird

Jimin had to read that last message three times, before clicking on Yoongi’s contact and calling him. “You don’t sext, at all?” Jimin demanded, before Yoongi could get a word in edgewise.

“Hello to you too,” Yoongi said, and Jimin could hear the amusement in his tone.

“Hyuuung,” Jimin whined, hoping his cuteness made its way through the phone. “What about phone sex?”

“No.”

“That’s so unfair. Are you trying to kill me?”

“Deal with it,” Yoongi said. “I’ll see you again in two weeks anyway. You’ll be fine with your hand until then, won't you?”

“I guess,” Jimin pouted, putting on a show, even though Yoongi couldn't see him.

“I’ll prove the real thing is better than cybersex the next time I see you,” Yoongi promised, laughing. Even though it was through the phone, Jimin could feel it as if Yoongi was right next to him, warming him up all over.

“I’ll be waiting,” Jimin said, meaning every word.

 

The first week of classes was rough, everyone getting used to their new schedules. Yoongi and Jimin text a couple of times during that time, but they didn’t get a chance to meet up--still at the campus coffee shop, still on Thursday, even though it was an hour later and Jeongguk could join them--until the following week.

Jimin didn’t remember whose turn it was to pay for coffee, since it had been a month, but when Jimin walked into the shop Yoongi had an extra paper cup beside his own, that he pushed to Jimin when he sat down in the empty seat next to him.

“We should leave,” Jimin told him, grabbing the drink--a caramel macchiato, Jimin knew without tasting it, just like Jimin knew that Yoongi was drinking a coffee with soy milk, two pumps of hazelnut, and one pump of chocolate just to be difficult--not bothering to even look at their other friends, who were already laughing at them.

“...you just got here.”

“And now I want to get out of here,” Jimin said, when Jin cut in.

“We were actually going to see a movie after this, if you can control yourselves” here Jeongguk let out a snicker, “for that long.”

“Fine,” Jimin said, slumping down in his seat. So much for his grand plan of getting fucked early and well in the semester.

“We’re your friends, Jiminie, spend some time with us,” Tae said, leaning over the table and poking Jimin’s cheek, and Jimin stuck his tongue out at him in response.

“Hoseok already has plans after the movie,” Yoongi said, as they were standing up to leave. There was a promise in his voice, and heat in his breath that made Jimin shiver, just a little. Had it really been that long, or was he just that affected by Yoongi? “So you can come by later, and I can make good on my promise, yeah?”

He walked away, smirking, looking so much like the first time that Jimin had ever seen him that it took a minute for him to regain his thoughts and continue to walk with everyone else.

 

The movie was predictable, and long. Jimin sat in between Jeongguk and Yoongi, and when he’d started bouncing his leg up and down Yoongi reached over and put his hand on Jimin’s leg. That was all. He didn’t make any other movements, no stroking his hand up Jimin’s thigh or sliding it up to his crotch.

Just a single, solid hand, but the promise of it made everything worse.

After the movie, Jimin agreed to go get dinner to everyone’s great (and loud) surprise. Yoongi raised his eyebrows at him, but Jimin shrugged. If Yoongi wanted to play this game, then Jimin would play.

Yoongi didn't sit next to him at dinner, sitting at the corner next to Hoseok instead. Jimin ate as slowly as he could and when Jin finally, finally dropped them off at Yoongi--Hoseok heading off with Namjoon instead of going with them--Jimin sighed in relief and pressed his forehead against Yoongi’s shoulder.

“You're so mean,” Jimin told him, and Yoongi huffed out a laugh.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he said, and once they stepped through the door Yoongi kissed him.

Every time before this, they had waited until they had at least gotten inside Yoongi’s room, and Yoongi had closed the door. But now Yoongi kissed him in the entryway of his apartment, pressing him gently against the door, his body coiled with as much anticipation as Jimin had been feeling all night.

Yoongi reached down and tugged at the hem of Jimin’s shirt, and Jimin lifted his arms to help Yoongi peel it off of him. Yoongi slid his hand from Jimin’s jaw all the way to the band of his jeans before leaning in to press hot kisses on Jimin’s throat.

After waiting all night, Jimin expected things to be hurried and fast, but every time Jimin tried to speed things up, Yoongi just slowed him down. He forced Jimin to keep his pace, every touch lingering and every kiss languid.

He was drawing things out, and even when Yoongi led him by the hand to his room, Jimin could feel that in his touch too.

Jimin didn’t understand where this was coming from. Maybe it was because they had essentially all night. Maybe it was because it had been so long since they’d seen each other. Maybe it had been the wait after all, being so close to Yoongi all night but feeling so far, because they had been in a crowd of people instead of a bubble of just the two of them. Whatever it was, though, Jimin could feel it permeating through the air, making the mood different from how it usually was when they fooled around.

“What do you want?” Yoongi asked, hovering over him on his forearms. They had just been kissing, Jimin giving into the pace that Yoongi wanted to set and feeling the tortorous heat settle into his bones. He wanted to get off, but at the same time, there was a part of him that didn’t. There was a part of him that wanted to stay in this moment forever, the waiting almost as pleasurable as everything else. He had never felt like that before, but didn’t want to examine it. Not here, not now, not in Yoongi’s bed with his hands on his skin. There would be time for that later.

Jimin almost didn’t want to answer, wanted to surge up and just kiss Yoongi some more, but instead he pushed at Yoongi gently until he sat up, letting Jimin sit up too. Jimin had thought about this during their break.

Reaching over to dig in Yoongi’s bedside table’s top drawer, where Yoongi always kept the condoms and lube, he reached for both and squeezed the lube on his own fingers. As much as he wanted Yoongi to touch him, that would have taken too long. Yoongi’s pace was nice, but this would go better if things were a little faster.

“Let me do this first,” Jimin told him, and without much more fanfare, started fingering himself. The stretch burned a little, the way it always did before it started feeling good, and Jimin closed his eyes against the sensation. When he opened them again, panting a little, Yoongi was looking up at him with wide eyes. There was something like wonder on his face, and part of Jimin wanted to laugh at that. It was just sex, after all, there were a million videos of some guy doing this on the internet. But another part, a bigger part, wanted to keep that look on Yoongi’s face just for himself, to have it be something special and his, but also theirs.

“Kiss me,” Jimin said, even with one hand up his ass, and Yoongi did.

Jimin moaned against himself once the angle was good, and he found his prostate, and everything after that was easy.

“Sit back,” Jimin said, pushing Yoongi until he was the one laying on the bed, and crawled over him to position himself before finally, finally, sinking down onto his dick. The stretch was so good, and Jimin choked on his own breath, mouth wide open as he finally situated himself fully. “God, you feel good.”

“You look good sitting on my dick,” Yoongi said, voice choked, and this time Jimin did laugh.

“I’m glad you think so,” he said, right before he started moving. The angle was weird at first, and it took some positioning to finally get it right, but when he did, he felt it, surges of pleasure every time he moved.

He placed his hands on Yoongi’s chest for better leverage, and also has a reason to touch him. Yoongi hadn’t taken his eyes off Jimin since he’d started moving, his eyes shifting from Jimin’s thighs, to his body, to Jimin’s face. He didn’t touch him, but he watched, and all of his attention was a heady and powerful thing that made its way to Jimin’s heart.

He didn’t need Yoongi to react out loud to him anymore. It was still nice, yes, and Jimin still liked to hear it, but now that Jimin knew Yoongi it was clear what he was thinking, what he could say without words. He felt overwhelmed, suddenly, but wasn’t sure why. He just wanted to keep feeling good, and so he just moved and didn’t think about it any further.

Eventually Jimin tired, legs burning, and when he began to slow down Yoongi sat up. They both groaned at the change in angle. Yoongi stopped the noise when he leaned in to kiss Jimin, finally reaching up and stroking Jimin’s back with his hand.

Embarrassingly, Jimin whimpered at the contact, and leaned into Yoongi. “Let me take care of you,” Yoongi whispered in his ear, and so Jimin let him pull out and press him into the mattress, moving a pillow underneath his hips for the full effect.

Jimin wasn’t expecting the force of Yoongi’s thrust, and he cried out when it came, fingernails digging into the skin of Yoongi’s shoulders. Yoongi swept his hair off his forehead, tenderly, before he thrusted again, making Jimin’s back arch off the bed.

When Yoongi wrapped his hand around Jimin’s dick, it was all over. He only had to stroke him once, twice, before Jimin came all over his hand and between their bodies. Yoongi kept moving into him, and immediately the feeling began to inch over from pleasure to pain it was so intense.

Yoongi came, and immediately hid his face in Jimin’s throat. Jimin was panting when Yoongi’s body settled into his, but he found that he didn’t really mind the weight of him, or the sweat, or any of the things that he normally felt were gross.

He liked the physical connection that they had, and relished in it, before Yoongi rolled off him to stare at the ceiling too.

“Wow,” Jimin said finally, when he had finally caught his breath.

Yoongi smiled, a real smile, and said “I promised you, didn’t I?”

“Fine, you win. That was better than sexting.”

Yoongi laughed.

 

Jimin didn’t really linger at Yoongi’s apartment long after, normally needing to get home. After they fooled around, or ate together, he generally left fairly quickly. But it was late now, and things still felt different. Jimin didn’t want to go, but he forced himself to sit up anyway.

“Um,” Jimin said, but before he could say more Yoongi reached out and wrapped his hand around Jimin’s wrist. His thumb landed exactly on Jimin’s pulse point, and Jimin could feel his heartbeat pulse on Yoongi’s finger.

“You could stay, if you wanted, I mean. It would just be more. Convenient, if you did. It’s really late, and I live closer to campus anyway.”

Yoongi wasn’t looking at him. Yoongi wasn’t looking at him, but Jimin was looking at him, and he could tell that this cost Yoongi something to ask him this.

“Okay,” Jimin whispered. He was tired. And Yoongi was right, he did live closer to campus, and it was late, and things would be easier if he stayed. He cleared his throat. “We have to change the sheets on your bed though, we wrecked these.”

All of the tension drained out of Yoongi, and he turned to look at Jimin. “Yeah? And whose fault is that?”

“Half mine, which is why I’ll help you change them, and let you take a shower with me after we do that too,” Jimin told him sweetly. Honestly, he gave Yoongi so much.

“Fine,” Yoongi huffed, and starting pulling the sheets off his bed. “But only because you always use up all our hot water.”

Jimin threw the top sheet at him, but didn’t argue. Yoongi was right. Jimin did always use up all the hot water.

It was easier to breath, now that they had cleared this up, but Jimin decided to not focus too hard on that either.

 

Waking up next to Yoongi was weird.

For the most part, it was normal. His alarm for his 9am class, NO HE CAN’T READ MY POKER FACE shattering the quiet of Yoongi’s room. Jimin scrambled to shut his alarm off as Yoongi grumbled beside him.

“What the fuck?” Yoongi asked, rubbing his eyes. The light from Jimin’s phone was dim, but Yoongi’s face was puffy and grumpy, and for some reason Jimin felt the weirdest urge to kiss him. He didn’t give in to the impulse.

“Sorry, I’ve got class,” Jimin said, jumping out of bed as gently as he could. Yoongi’s blinds were the kind that didn’t let even a hint of sunlight through them, so he was stumbling through the dark, pulling on clothes that felt vaguely like his own. “I’ll let myself out, You can go back to sleep.”

“Hmph. Okay,” Yoongi told him, rolling over and doing just that.

Jimin ended up having to rush to rush, since he’d bothered to get breakfast from a convenience store, which ate up more of his time than he expected. It wasn’t until he slid into his desk that he realized that his jeans had more rips than he remembered them having just yesterday, though they looked familiar. It wasn’t until halfway through the lecture that he realized that they were Yoongi’s.

Jimin sent a text to Yoongi as soon as he was out of class, figuring that it was 10am and he had to be properly awake by now.

To: [fire emoji] hyung
guess what color underwear i’m wearing

From: [fire emoji] hyung
purple

To: [fire emoji] hyung
no i’m still wearing the pair i had on last night haha

From: [fire emoji] hyung
what? gross

To: [fire emoji] hyung
but it turns out i accidentally picked up a pair of your pants instead of mine and i’m wearing them now. did you know that we’re the same size?

From: [fire emoji] hyung
figures. you can just bring them back whenever you have the time

From: [fire emoji] hyung
AFTER you wash them. i don't want dirty underwear jeans.

To: [fire emoji] hyung
of course hyung :p

Jimin washed Yoongi’s jeans, and gave them back to him the next day. Yoongi fucked him in thanks. It was a pretty good system, if Jimin said so himself, so if he started stealing Yoongi’s clothes more often, or leaving his own just to see Yoongi more often, no one could blame him.

 

There was a certain point in the semester where Jimin got sick. It happened every year, like clockwork, no matter how much NyQuil and Benadryl and orange juice Jimin shoved down his throat.

Thankfully, it always happened between midterms and finals, like his body knew that it couldn’t be any more inconvenient than that, but it was still annoying. Jimin hated being sick, and hated being cooped up in the apartment even more, but that couldn’t be helped. Even after a few years of this, he never learned moderation, and ran his body to the ground every time. For some reason, he just couldn’t seem to resist.

He fought the symptoms for a long time, ignoring them with cheap allergy meds, but it got to the point where his modern dance instructor sent him home because he looked like crap.

He felt like crap too, forced to sit on the couch, wrapped up in blankets, tissues littered around on the floor. Taehyung took one look at him when he got home that day and said, “Oh, it’s that time of year again, huh?”

“Shut up,” Jimin said, blowing his nose again. He felt like garbage, his nose stuffy and runny at once, headache and hot with fever but cold at the same time. “Can you get me some aspirin?”

“You’re so cute when you’re a whiny baby,” Taehyung said, and threw him the bottle from the kitchen. A bottle of water shortly followed. “Sorry,” Taehyung, the biggest germaphobe that Jimin knew, said. “I can’t risk getting any closer, especially when Jin and I might be touching mouths at any time.”

“You suck,” Jimin said, reclining back on the cushions to swallow the meds.

“At least it will only last two or three days,” Taehyung told him, remembering past cycles of this. “You can deal with it by yourself for that long. Any longer and I’ll take you to the doctor myself.”

“You still suck. Worst best friend ever,” Jimin said, and closed his eyes. Taehyung didn’t say anything else, and Jimin eventually dozed off, not even hearing whether or not Jeongguk came in too, knocked out cold.

The next day, Jimin somehow felt worse, but this was always the worst part anyway. He had to get worse before he got better. He saw that Jeongguk had stolen his phone and e-mailed his professors for him when he had gotten in last night, and that Taehyung had put more meds on the living room table, and went back to dozing.

He felt like garbage. And not even the cool, recycled kind. Not even the kind that was headed to the landfill. He felt like garbage that the garbage men forgot to pick up, and so the garbage truck ran it over and it was pancaked on the road for more cars to run over. The meds helped, but barely, and he prepared himself for suffering, only getting up to put on the drama that his mom had always played for him when he got sick as a kid.

He had just gotten to the part where the the heroine had to make a choice between her sweet best friend and the asshole with the heart of gold--even though he knew who she was going to choose, Jimin was always proud of her for going the right route. Asshole with a heart of gold was always the best way to go--when the door opened.

It was early for Taehyung, who was on campus until it was basically all closed, and for Jeongguk, who had classes late in the afternoon so that he didn’t have to wake up before 10am, and so he forced himself to sit up and make sure he wasn’t getting burgled or something equally awful. Though if this burglar wanted to steal something from three broke college students and their shithole apartment, Jimin was sick enough to just let it happen. There would be no point in resisting.

But it wasn’t a burglar. It was Yoongi, who had Taehyung’s keys--Jimin could tell from the giant Luffy keychain that Jeongguk had gotten him for his last birthday--and a bunch of bags from the supermarket in his hand.

“...what?” Jimin said finally, after staring at him for a little bit. There was a part of him that wasn’t sure that Yoongi wasn’t some kind of fever induced hallucination. Because, otherwise, why would he be here? But that Luffy keychain was kind of hard to hallucinate. And Jimin might have been sick, but he wasn’t the hallucination kind of sick. He thought.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood,” Yoongi said, not looking at him. He went to the kitchen and set his bags on the counter.

“With Tae’s keys?”

“It’s Thursday,” Yoongi said, still not looking at Jimin, even as he mumbled. “And you weren’t there when we all went to get coffee, and Taehyung said it was because you were sick, borderline dying, even, and I figured that since I was going to be in the area-”

“You live on the other side of town.”

I figured that since I was going to be in the area, I could make you heat up some soup for you since Taehyung also said that it it was likely that you haven’t eaten all day. So you’re going to shut up and eat this canned soup that I bought for you, got it?”

“Fine,” Jimin said, and sniffed. “Can you bring me some more medicine for me too? I’m almost out but Jeongguk will probably-”

“I got you some meds too,” Yoongi said, back to Jimin as he turned on the stove. Still, Jimin was pretty sure that his ears were rosy, though it was hard to tell with the beanie. “Figured I might as well. Being sick sucks.”

“I know,” Jimin whined. “I hate it.”

Yoongi came over to hand him a glass of ice water, and some of the pills that he had bought. As Jimin swallowed them, he put his hand on Jimin’s forehead to gauge his temperature. Yoongi’s hands always seemed to be warm, but today they seemed cold, and Jimin leaned into his touch without meaning to.

He felt so awful, but it was nice to have Yoongi here, taking care of him. One of the worst parts of being sick was how his roommates always avoided him like the plague because of it. Also because Jimin tended to get whiny when he was sick, and neither of them really wanted to take care of him. Not that he could blame them, really. He would have done the same.

“Your fever doesn’t seem to be too bad,” Yoongi said to him, “but you still look like shit.”

“You could at least lie,” Jimin mumbled, still leaning into Yoongi. “I’m sleeping with you regularly, you should be complimenting my face at all times.”

“You’re not coming near me naked while you have the cold slash flu from hell,” Yoongi told him. “I can say whatever I want.” A pause, and then, “Get off me, your soup is probably done heating up.”

Jimin made a noise of defeat, and flopped back onto the couch. He heard Yoongi puttering around in the kitchen, before coming back with a steaming bowl of soup, and a spoon. He also had an orange flavored sports drink under his arm, that he placed on the table after handing the bowl to Jimin.

Jimin put the soup in his lap, grateful that the blankets were so thick. He could still feel the heat of the bowl through them. Yoongi hovered awkwardly, looking unsure and out of place. “Well,” he said finally, “I should probably-”

“No, don’t leave,” Jimin told him. “You feel good. I want to sleep on you.”

“You’re going to get me sick,” Yoongi grumbled, but after a beat of hesitation he sat back down on the couch anyway. Jimin leaned into him happily, making sure not to jostle any of the soup. For someone so bony, Yoongi felt strangely comfortable. It was nice.

Which was why it was so hard to say, “Wait, could you get me some goldfish to put in my soup?” Jimin asked, knowing it was ridiculous but not caring. He was sick, he deserved to be a little ridiculous.

“The things I do for you, Park Jimin,” Yoongi sighed, and pushed him away to stand up and go looking in the cabinets for goldfish. As soon as he sat back down, Jimin scooted right back to him, his back to Yoongi’s chest. Yoongi’s arms wrapped around his waist, lightly, since they had nowhere else to put them. It felt so nice, even if Yoongi was too skinny to be properly cuddle-able. He really was going to get Yoongi sick, but Yoongi had offered, so he couldn’t totally be blamed. “Is there anything else you want from me, your highness?”

“Everything,” Jimin sighed, unpausing his drama. He leaned further into Yoongi, even though it already felt like they were impossibly close, and was lulled into peace by the rhythm of Yoongi’s breathing and the heat of the bowl in his hands. “I want everything from you.”

 

Jimin was better by the end of the weekend, which was a relief to Jeongguk and Taehyung since they no longer had to deal with Jimin whining or sitting in the living room suffering. He text Yoongi, just to confirm that he hadn’t gotten him sick when he had come over, but Yoongi was fine.

He was glad that he was better, if only because Jin had been invited to the biggest party on campus that weekend, and apparently had enough clout with whoever was throwing it to be able to ask everyone to go with him. Of course, this delighted Taehyung to no end.

“I have a really good feeling about tonight,” Taehyung said on Friday, when they were all getting ready. Jimin decided to wear the black leather pants he only pulled out for special occasions. He couldn’t wait to see Yoongi’s face when he saw them. “I think...I think something is finally going to happen between me and Jin. Do you think he likes me? Like, like likes me. I know he likes me as a friend.”

Taehyung looked nervous, which rarely happened. But then again, Taehyung had never been quite as brought into someone’s life, the way that he had with Jin. Usually Taehyung didn’t have his friends meet his crush’s friends, usually didn’t let things go on like this for months. But there was something different about Jin that made Taehyung a little more hesitant, but also a little bit more brave, like maybe Taehyung was showing Jin more than he was comfortable with. So Jimin got it, really.

Jimin thought about the special smile Jin had for Taehyung, and how he always seemed to ask Taehyung to do something first, before asking everyone else. And just how wonderful Taehyung was in general. Anyone would be lucky to have him.

“Yeah,” Jimin said. “I think you should make a move soon. Seriously...you two are good together. Just don’t be scared, Tae. You’ve never been scared before, so you shouldn’t be scared now.”

Taehyung smiled. “You’re right. You’re right,” he repeated, slapping his cheeks and looking into the mirror. “I’m Kim Taehyung, and anyone would be lucky to hold my hand and maybe touch my mouth with their mouth.”

Jimin laughed. “Exactly. You can’t let being afraid stop you from being happy,” he told Taehyung, before going back to putting on eyeliner. Taehyung noticeably perked up after that, so Jimin figured his job as The Best Friend To Ever Exist, Ever, was done, at least for tonight.

They got to the house earlier than the others, and were let in even though the host didn’t know them. Jeongguk immediately split, like usual, telling them he’d meet back up with them later. Jimin asked Taehyung if he wanted to dance, but Taehyung said no, that he was going to get a drink and wait for Jin and the others to come instead.

There were a lot of people at this party. Jin had said that there would be, but Jimin hadn’t realized how big the house--they had an actual house--would be, or the fact that half of campus would be shoved in there.

Almost as soon as he walked onto the dance floor, some guy came up and started to dance with him. It was fine, at first, but he seemed to take dancing as an invitation to start touching Jimin, which was unacceptable.

At first, Jimin just smiled at him, and tried to back away slowly. This happened sometimes, and most guys took the hint, but not this one. Even when Jimin grabbed the guy’s wrist and moved it back to his body, he wouldn’t stop coming onto him, which was frustrating to no end.

As a last resort, Jimin pretended to look into the crowd and said, “I think I just saw my boyfriend coming over.”

He hated guys like this, and hated worse how they wouldn't back off unless they knew he “belonged” to someone else, like they could only respect his boundaries if someone else was drawing them. Fucking dick.

“I didn't see you with anyone earlier,” the asshole said. “I think you're full of shit.”

Before he could say more, Jimin felt a arm slip around his shoulder and lips press gently against his cheek. “There you are. Babe,” Yoongi tacked on the last word at the end, sounding more awkward about it than fond. Jimin bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.

Asshole squinted, and looked between the two of them like he wasn't exactly sure what he was seeing. But whatever it was seemed to be enough, because he just grunted, “Whatever.” He left, and Jimin was more than happy to see him go.

Yoongi didn't remove his arm, even though the asshole was no longer in their line of sight. Jimin didn't make any move to try to get him to let go, instead making himself turn closer as he wrinkled his nose and said, “Babe? Really? Gross.”

Yoongi wrinkled his nose back. “I know. I wouldn't call anyone that I was dating that.”

“Then, what would you call me?” Jimin asked, feeling the way Yoongi stiffened a bit in surprise.

There was none of that in his voice, though, when he said, “Pumpkin pie? Sugarplum? Sweet cheeks? Honey lips?”

He stopped to laugh at the expression on Jimin’s face. “Yah, Park Jimin. I already call you by your name. Isn't that enough?”

“My name is way prettier than any of that, so I guess it is,” Jimin told him, before grabbing onto Yoongi’s jacket to pull him towards the coolers.

Yoongi didn't move his arm from Jimin’s shoulder for the rest of the night.

 

When Jimin got home the next morning--after spending a very successful night with Yoongi, if the burn in his thighs was any indication--Taehyung was sitting at the kitchen table, mouthing the words as he read the script in his hand.

When he heard Jimin come through the door he looked up and smiled. “I heard a rumor about you last night. Or well, not really a rumor because this is college and not high school, but still. Either way, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

“Tell you what?”

“That you and Yoongi were dating, duh. What else?”

“What are you talking about?” Jimin asked, a sinking feeling tugging his stomach down like an anchor. He wasn’t sure he liked the sound of this.

“Namjoon said that he heard that you called Yoongi your boyfriend. Jin’s really happy about it, actually. He said that Yoongi hyung has liked you for a really long time. But really, congrats! I’m really happy for you, Jiminie, it’s like you’re really growing up.” Taehyung wiped a fake tear from his face. “I’m so proud.”

“Yoongi and I are not dating,” Jimin said, with enough force that Taehyung stopped pretending to cry and stared at him. “That was just because some asshole wouldn’t leave me alone, tell Namjoon to shut the hell up.”

“Whoa,” Taehyung said, throwing up his hands in a gesture that said clearly don’t attack me. “Sorry. I didn’t think you’d get this mad, I mean you guys kind of are basically dating-”

“We’re really not,” Jimin said, wondering why his heart was starting to pound, why this felt like something akin to panic underneath his skin. “Just. We’re not. Sorry Tae, I’m gonna go lie down now. It’s been a long night.”

He left a bewildered Taehyung behind him, going straight to his room and shutting the door. He needed to calm down. He knew his reaction was irrational, but it was still legitimate, flooding his body like some kind of poisoned river.

Boyfriend. For some reason, the word made him almost scared.

Jimin wished that he had some kind of tragic backstory, some kind of excuse that he could blame all of his issues with having relationships on, but he really didn’t.

He just didn’t understand the appeal. Entangling your life with someone else’s just seemed so messy. He’d had enough ice cream and sad movie sessions with Taehyung after break ups to know exactly how messy they could be. The other person eventually overflowed into every aspect of your life, leaving no part of you untouched. Jimin wasn’t sure if he wanted that.

Some forms of dancing were about precision, about control, and that had always appealed to Jimin. Just sleeping with people was clear cut. Just staying friends with people was clear cut. There were certain boundaries that you didn’t push in those sorts of things, and if you did the relationship was over. Done.

But, Jimin realized, the thought dawning on him slowly, Yoongi didn’t fit into fuck buddy or just friend boundaries. He was always, always, more than that.

Suddenly, Jimin felt sick. The shaky kind, that was brought on by panic, or fear.

He didn’t want this anymore. He took his phone out of his pocket to distract himself from that feeling, when he saw that he had gotten a text from Yoongi. you forgot your ugly hoodie last time you were here it said, and Jimin just felt sicker, thinking about how he had left his hoodie there on purpose, just to see if Yoongi would wear it since they’d taken to wearing each other’s clothes whenever they had the chance. It was half pink with purple polka dots, and half purple with pink polka dots, straddling the border of ugly and cute. Jimin loved it, mostly ironically, but it was so far from Yoongi’s style that it might as well have been Mars.

keep it, he text back, and didn’t bother to check if Yoongi replied or not.

 

Avoiding Yoongi was strangely easy. Skipping going to get coffee was easy, not responding to any of his texts was easy, not hanging out with Yoongi on the weekends or asking for his clothes back was easy. What was hard was that for some reason, Jimin seemed to miss him.

Jimin missed Yoongi, and that was scary. So Jimin continued to avoid him, at least until that feeling shriveled up and died. Maybe it wasn’t right, maybe Jimin felt guilty when Yoongi had stopped texting him every other day or when Taehyung said that Yoongi had asked if he had gotten sick again, but whatever. He just had to wait for the feelings to go away before he could handle seeing Yoongi again.

But then Jimin fucked up, and stopped paying attention. Without thinking about it, his feet carred him to the coffee shop on campus after lunch, on a day that he knew Yoongi had free time and was most likely to go there.

That was another thing--when had he memorized Yoongi’s schedule? When had he learned all these little things about Yoongi that only someone close to him would know? He didn’t know these kinds of things about Namjoon or Hoseok, or anyone else that he had fucked, but here was Yoongi. Shattering that wall too, without either of them trying to tear it down.

And so, of course Yoongi was there getting something to drink, and of course he saw Jimin before Jimin saw him, and of course he walked over to him.

“Here, let me get you something,” Yoongi said, turning back to the counter even though there was a line. Jimin thought about simply turning around and leaving, but knew that he couldn’t do that.

Jimin took the coffee Yoongi ordered with a muttered “thanks” and not much else. He followed when Yoongi led them outside and sat down on the bench, which was so cold that it seeped through Jimin’s jeans.

“So where have you been,” Yoongi asked, voice casual. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I’ve been busy.” Jimin shrugged. Yoongi looked like he was going to say something else, but Jimin cut him off.

“Everyone thinks we’re dating.” Jimin hesitated, “But I know we aren’t. So I just wanted to make sure...did you think we were dating?”

Jimin watched as what seemed like a thousand emotions washed over Yoongi’s face, the first being surprise and the last hardening to something cold, closed off. Yoongi had never looked at him like that before, as if he was a river icing over in winter, and doing his best to keep everyone away. Jimin hadn’t realized how lucky he was, to only have Yoongi be so warm towards him, until he was faced with the opposite.

“Yeah. I did.” He took a deep breath. “What else was I supposed to think, Jimin? It’s not like we were just having sex. We hung out, we had fun together. You slept over in my bed, for fuck’s sake.”

“But we didn’t even talk about being boyfriends!” Jimin said, standing up.

“I didn’t think we needed to,” Yoongi said. “Sometimes you just fall into these things, and that’s what I was doing with you. I was falling.”

“That’s not how things work, that's not how I work,” Jimin said. “You shouldn’t have just...made assumptions like that. No one should have made assumptions like that, because it’s wrong. We were just fucking. I didn’t realized our friends becoming friends would make things messy like this. I think...I think we shouldn’t see each other anymore. At least, not how we have been.”

Yoongi just stared at him, the coldness not budging at all from his face. If anything it grew more intense, practically arctic. “Fine, if that’s what you want, Park Jimin.”

“It is,” Jimin breathed, not sure why his chest had started aching, or why this was so hard. He’d had fuck buddies before, and their relationships had dissolved or Jimin had called them off before. But Yoongi was different.

That was the problem. Yoongi was different, and Jimin was scared.

He left Yoongi sitting on that bench alone, and skipped his next class in favor of just going straight home.

 

When Taehyung got home that night, Jimin knew that he knew what happened. The way that Taehyung looked at him, a little hesitant and unsure, told him that. And if Taehyung knew, that meant that everyone else knew too. He couldn't imagine that they were very happy with him.

He expected Taehyung to be mad at him too, especially if he got Yoongi’s side of the story through Jin, but Taehyung sat next to Jimin on the couch like nothing's wrong.

“Hey,” Taehyung said finally, after they sat together in silence. “Want to watch Boys Over Flowers?”

This was a surprise. It was a Friday night--usually Taehyung had other plans. Especially when he was still going after Jin’s hand in dating.

Jimin turns to look at him. “You hate that drama,” he said, having heard Taehyung’s opinion on it--and his hatred of all love triangles--approximately a hundred million times, since Taehyung had watched it with his sister around that number of times.

“Yeah, but you don't,” Taehyung said, grinning at him.

Jimin, who was only known to watch a romantic drama when he was sick and upset, couldn't deny this. Especially not from Taehyung, who knew him so well, who knew from looking at his face that there was something wrong enough that he would even be tempted. “Okay,” Jimin agreed, and got up to find his laptop.

They got around halfway through before Taehyung passed out, mouth open wide, his head on Jimin’s shoulder.

Tonight had helped, Jimin thought, it really had. But for some reason, this just didn't seem to be enough to completely squash the feelings that had whirled up inside his chest.

 

Two days later, Jimin was at the kitchen table doing homework, trying not to think about the more comfortable places he could be doing homework like Yoongi’s bed, when Jeongguk walked through the front door and unceremoniously dumped a plastic bag on top of his open textbook.

Jimin looked inside the bag, eyes furrowed, and realized with a sinking feeling that it was his purple and pink polka dot hoodie. There was only one person who Jeongguk could’ve gotten this from.

“Thanks,” Jimin said, around the sudden lump in his throat. This was stupid, he shouldn’t be upset, he should be happy that he was getting his clothes back, but he wasn’t. The hoodie being returned to him by someone not Yoongi meant that Yoongi didn’t want to see him anymore. It was a pink and purple death knell. Things between them were really and truly over.

He should be happy about this, he reminded himself again, but it didn’t work.

“It’s not fair,” Jeongguk said suddenly, still hovering beside the table. Jimin hadn’t even realized that he was still in the room, but apparently he was. “What you’re doing to Yoongi-hyung, I mean.”

“That’s none of your business,” Jimin said stiffly, looking back down at his theory notes. He didn’t want to hear this, mostly because he knew Jeongguk was right, and he didn’t want to deal with that. He didn’t want to deal with other people being right in a situation where he was so wrong. “Besides, why do you even care? You barely know him.”

Jeongguk glared at him. “We’re friends. I met him in one of my classes last semester, and he bought me lamb skewers when we were paired together for a project. And even if I hadn’t, we’ve hung out enough now for me to know that he’s a good person, and he doesn’t deserve this.”

Yoongi was a good person. Jimin knew this, too. When Jimin didn’t say anything, Jeongguk continued. “Everyone knew you liked him. Everyone. You were basically dating the entire time anyway, but the moment someone puts a label on it you freak out and cut him off. He deserves at least an explanation from you.”

“I don’t think he wants an explanation from me,” Jimin said. He didn’t like showing this kind of weakness to anyone, especially not Jeongguk, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself, not when Jeongguk was standing there in front of him demanding answers. Not when he couldn’t seem to figure this out alone, in his own head. “He couldn’t even give me back my clothes himself.”

“Stop doing this to yourself, hyung,” Jeongguk said. “You always...you always have reasons not to let people in, you’ll come up with any excuse you can think of to do it. But you shouldn’t. Let yourself be happy. Yoongi hyung made you happy and I think if you really wanted to try, if you really meant it, he would talk to you again. He really, really liked you.”

People seemed to keep telling him that, but there was still a part of Jimin that just couldn’t believe it. He let out a soft, self deprecating laugh. “I guess” he said, looking at the polka dots, wondering if Yoongi had ever worn this after all, before he and Jimin had talked on that cold bench.

“I know he did,” Jeongguk said, deadly serious.

“I hope you’re right,” Jimin told him, and put his hoodie on.

 

It took a few days for Jimin to work up the courage. For all that he told Taehyung about not being afraid, no one could ever call him brave, especially not himself, so he gave himself that time to consider what exactly he wanted to say.

Honestly, though, there was only one thing he could say, only one thing he could ask. He wasn't scared of doing it, now, as much as he was afraid of what Yoongi was going to say.

As warm as Yoongi could be, Jimin knew first hand just how good Yoongi was at icing people out. He had seen it all over his face the last time that Yoongi looked at him. But Jimin could be brave. He would be brave.

Jimin knocked on the door to Yoongi’s apartment, his heart pounding in his chest. He could hear a muffled laugh track through the thick wood, but nothing else, and braced himself when the door swung open.

Hoseok, wearing nothing but pink boxers that had tiny shih tzus on them, stood and stared at him for a minute. Then he promptly and easily shut the door in Jimin’s face.

Jimin stared at it, brown and worn and seemingly impenetrable, and knocked again. This time, when Hoseok answered, he was wearing a shirt. He closed the door behind him.

“What do you want?” Hoseok asked. “I hope you’re not over here just for a quick fuck, because seriously, Jimin, don’t you think that’s a little-”

“I’m not,” Jimin said. “I’m not here for anything. The only thing I want is to talk to Yoongi.”

Hoseok crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t hurt him again,” Hoseok said, his eyes narrowed.

“I won’t.” If anything, he’ll hurt me, Jimin thought, but didn’t say. Hoseok looked at him for lone more long moment, before opening the door and letting him through.

Yoongi’s door was cracked open when Jimin walked in. He was wearing headphones, the big ones that meant that he was working on something, or trying his best to shut the rest of the world out.

Not wanting to scare him, Jimin tapped his shoulder gently, but Yoongi jumped anyway.

“Hoseok, what the-” Yoongi froze when he saw that it wasn’t Hoseok, but Jimin instead. “What do you want?” he asked stiffly, letting his headphones wrap around his neck. “Jimin, why are you here?”

His face was cold, but not as icy as Jimin remembered. He took comfort in that before taking a deep breath and moving forward.

“I’m here because I wanted to say that I was sorry. For hurting you, for telling you that we shouldn’t see each other. Because...I miss you, Yoongi. I miss you so much. I’m missing you right now, even though we’re in the same room, looking at each other, because that’s how much I like you. But I’m also here because,” Jimin took another deep breath. He was nervous, his hands shaking a little. Yoongi was watching him carefully, his eyes dark and intense. He was very still, and Jimin wasn’t sure what that meant, but he wanted to learn. There was still so much more that could be between them, “Min Yoongi, will you be my boyfriend? For real, this time.”

Yoongi’s mouth dropped open, for just a second, before he collected himself. “Are you serious?” he asked, voice thick. “Park Jimin, are you serious, because if you’re just messing with me-”

“No!” Jimin said, standing up. “No, I’m not. Yoongi, I want to get coffee with you, and sleep in your bed, and do my homework with you. But I want it to mean something, to both of us this time. I want it to be real. I want us to be real. And I want us to talk, and be honest about things. Please, Yoongi,” and here was the kicker. Jimin could feel himself getting emotional, knowing that he had to ask again. That he would ask as many times as Yoongi needed him to, “be my boyfriend.”

Yoongi was quiet for one more moment. Jimin could feel his heart pounding in his chest, dying to know what Yoongi was going to say, but at the same time never wanting to know.

“Okay,” Yoongi said, and smiled. “Okay, Park Jimin. I’ll be your fucking boyfriend.”

Jimin couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss him, just once, on the mouth. Yoongi kissed him back, sweetly, lacing their fingers together, and Jimin felt himself smile into it, into Yoongi, just one more time. “I’ll prove that the real thing is better,” he said, and kissed Yoongi again, just as a start.