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Yoongi always walks him home from practice.
Jimin remembers the first time, vividly – it being one of the most awkward, embarrassing encounters of his life.
He’d been trying to learn a new routine for two hours straight, sweat pouring off him, hair having withered down to lie flat across his forehead where his sweat was being coloured by it (in hindsight, it was a bad choice to dye it red – it did kind of look like blood).
He just barely heard the door to his practice room swing open over the speakers, revealing a very, very concerned looking Min Yoongi, who, at the time, Jimin’d only talked to a little bit while waiting in line at the university’s nearest café or that one time they completely rammed into each other and their books got mixed up for an entire day.
“Jimin, are you bleeding?”
He had no idea where he came from. The room had huge-ass windows which was something Jimin kept asking to be fixed – some curtains or something so shit like this wouldn’t happen – so it was a wonder how he didn’t see Min Yoongi outside his studio, gawking at him like an animal at the zoo.
Jimin didn’t even have time to reply before Yoongi was up in his face, examining the dyed-sweat on his forehead and he was so, so ungraciously mortified.
“No... no-“ Jimin leaned his head back away from the impending touch of his intruder, running through all the possible ways he could explain this situation without embarrassing the hell out of both of them.
No, you’re just touching my really sweaty forehead and showing an alarming amount of concern over nothing.
He didn’t really want to have to say that.
It didn’t help that just as Yoongi’s hand was grazing his chin to get a better look at him the song he was supposed to be learning right at that minute was still playing and it just so happened to be Skin by Rihanna and this was far too awkward on so many levels and Jimin kind of wished he was bleeding so he could pass out already.
Why did Hoseok make him do a sexy song he’d never regretted something so desperately in his life.
“I hit my head off the…” Quick glance around the room. “door frame earlier – wow I didn’t realise I was bleeding!” The strain in his voice made himself cringe, but he tried very hard not to let it show.
“The door frame? But… how did you reach it?”
The audacity.
“I was dancing…” Jimin was pretty sure the sweat/blood was multiplying on his head at this point because he’s bad at telling lies even when he has time to think but oh god. “In heels.”
Oh god.
Yoongi looked about as flustered as Jimin felt.
“I didn’t know you could do that.”
“Hoseok taught me.” That wasn’t even a lie, at least.
“That’s impressive.” Yoongi’s voice was gentle and sincere and for a second Jimin forgot what he was so worked up about. But then he said “We should really get this cleaned up, though,” and went to dab at it with his sleeve, to which Jimin lurched back as if he’d attempted to dodge a bullet resulting in Yoongi blinking at him quizzically, hand raised in the air with a self-made sweater paw.
“I’ll clean it up myself, your shirt looks too nice for that.” Jimin had already started backing away when Yoongi reached out and grabbed his wrist to which he (and momentarily his heart) stopped for.
“I’m gonna wait until you’re done, okay? I’ll walk you home.”
“You don’t have to do-“
“I do. Honestly, you sound a little out of it and if I heard tomorrow that Park Jimin had passed out in the middle of the street with a concussion late last night I’d feel shitty.” Yoongi gave a bashful little smile “Plus, it’s raining and I have an umbrella.”
He let go of his wrist, eyes scanning Jimin’s head for any more ‘wounds’ before his eyes slipped down to meet the other’s. They held a stare until Yoongi looked away with a strange urgency.
“If you need any help I’ll be here.”
Jimin nodded, feeling sort of shaken for some convoluted reason his brain couldn’t really decipher at that particular moment. He wondered if maybe he had hit his head on something.
Yoongi, true to his word, was standing near the entrance with an umbrella once Jimin had wiped off all the dyed sweat from his forehead (he even went the extra mile and asked Jungkook for one of his cute plasters with chibi iron man on them and stuck it where the cut could’ve been).
Jimin tapped on Yoongi’s shoulder, whose face lit up visibly as soon as he saw the plaster.
“How cute.” He mumbled, just loud enough for Jimin to hear him but not loud enough to be certain that was what he said.
Jimin disregarded it completely because what does he even say to that if that was what he said and watched as Yoongi stepped outside and put up his umbrella as quickly as possible so he didn’t get drenched.
He held his arm out expectantly and Jimin faltered, staring blankly at him, before Yoongi directed at the puddle stretching across the length of the steps.
“I don’t want you to slip or anything…”
It was around then Jimin sort of started feeling bad for making Yoongi think he needed to take care of him.
But he grabbed onto Yoongi’s arm anyway, which was surprisingly strong for someone so skinny, and hopped over the last step.
Yoongi was warm beside him under the umbrella, and Jimin almost forgot to let go of his arm.
Almost, almost considered telling him that he’d better hold onto it just in case he got dizzy.
They started walking towards campus, the gentle sound of rain crashing around them. Yoongi breathing softly. Their footsteps echoing on the pavement.
Jimin took a glance at Yoongi who was staring straight ahead until he sensed Jimin looking at him.
“What?” He smiled with a refreshing warmth and partial adoration to it, which was vaguely surprising to Jimin because one: he was pretty much a stranger to him, and two: Yoongi had a reputation of being a scary, grouchy 3rd year.
Which clearly wasn’t true, considering he was so concerned for Jimin and he was walking him to his dorm – insistently.
Jimin realised he didn’t even tell Hoseok or Jungkook he was leaving.
And he didn’t turn his music off.
… and he forgot his bag.
God damn it, Min Yoongi.
Then, he had another revelation after this just to top it all off.
“Wait, how do you know where I live?”
Yoongi’s face almost instantaneously turned a light shade of red and he adverted his eyes to looking ahead of him again. For a moment, Jimin thought he wasn’t even going to answer him.
“Hoseok.”
“Hobi? You know him?”
Yoongi nodded, slightly solemnly which made Jimin laugh a little, and he let out a breath before he continued, “I went round to his room to give him back a book and you were there.”
“I was?”
“Yeah.” His shoulders stiffened enough for Jimin to notice, as if kind of nervous. “And I asked him about you, and he made some comment about you living two doors down but never being out of his place.”
“You asked about me?” Jimin echoed, catching on that the last three things he said had all been obvious questions – but Yoongi seemed so worked up Jimin was pretty sure he didn’t even notice.
He briefly looked at Jimin, but away again when their eyes met.
“Why?”
Yoongi made a strange face, one that looked 50% sad, and 50% annoyed – though Jimin had a feeling Yoongi was neither of those things.
“I thought you were cute.” He muttered.
Jimin found out quick enough that confessions do not come easy for Min Yoongi – not back then at least.
Yoongi started coming to his practice room more often, each excuse more ridiculous than the last.
“Oh I was looking for Hoseok” and “Just making sure your cut was okay” and “Well it’s cold and I was passing by so…” and, “I thought I saw somebody I knew but I was wrong.”
Until eventually Jimin just told him to stop making excuses and tell him he came here to walk home with him.
Yoongi didn’t make another excuse after that.
Today, it’s raining.
Yoongi brought his umbrella. The clear one with the black polka dots that he knows Jimin likes. Jimin’s hair is glued to his forehead, but there’s no dye discolouring anything this time – just faded brown hair with a wet fringe.
“Don’t wear yourself out, Min…” Yoongi says in reply to Jimin contemplating going through his routine one more time.
Jimin looks at Yoongi and the corners of his mouth uptilt. For no particular reason, really. Just Yoongi.
“Alright, let’s go.”
Yoongi’s warmth is the same as it always is when they’re under the umbrella together.
Jimin secretly likes when it rains. Unfortunately, Seoul has had a dry spell lately.
The rain patters around them, footsteps echoing, cars dwindling past every so often with baffled drivers, staring at them for a multitude of reasons.
Jimin’s in a tank top and shorts, they’re walking in torrential rain, is that two guys?
After a lull in their conversation, Jimin sneaks a look at Yoongi, whose eyes meet with his immediately.
Neither of them look away.
“Jimin.” Yoongi says simply, with enough emphasis that he knows to stop walking, blinking at him intently.
Confessions didn’t come easy to Yoongi. They still don’t, Jimin finds out.
So Yoongi doesn’t say anything.
He places a hand on the side of Jimin’s face, thumb grazing his cheek ever so slightly.
Jimin’s heart is beating a mile a minute, almost in time with the rain thundering down outside of their little space.
Yoongi presses soft lips to his, ever so lightly that after he pulls away Jimin wouldn’t be sure if they really touched at all.
If not for the juvenile tingle they leave behind.
“I still think you’re cute.”
It’s not the most romantic confession. It’s not even anything set in stone. Not an ‘I love you’ or even and ‘I like you’ but in some ways Jimin thinks it’s better.
It’s their own, stupid confession.
Jimin loses his words briefly before he mentally pulls himself together.
“I wasn’t actually bleeding that one time.”
Yoongi chuckles quietly, and everything sounds so delicate and intimate right now that Jimin feels a little bit light headed.
“I know. I just wanted to walk you home.”
And that was not something Jimin was expecting.
He smacks his arm playfully (but also semi-seriously) and says “Yah, you let me embarrass myself for nothing?”
Yoongi takes Jimin’s face in both hands this time, discarding the umbrella on the ground.
The green in Yoongi’s hair starts running down his face with the rain.
And he kisses him again.