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- Skinship.
Kim Seokjin was the first to figure it out.
Having roomed with the younger boy since years before their debut, Jin liked to believe that he had a general understanding of what made Yoongi, well, Yoongi. Most of it was easy to come by; he was a hard worker (and a little too hard on himself, Jin rather thought), he preferred to keep his words to a bare minimum, and despite the tough, unapproachable persona he often liked to carry with him, the boy was respectful, considerate, and most importantly, kind.
But if there was one thing about Yoongi that Jin had instantly realized just days into their introduction to each other, it was this;
Min Yoongi liked his personal space.
He didn't hide it--in fact, he had made it pretty obvious from the first day itself. While the three other boys had welcomed him with a combination of formal greetings and a series of westernized shenanigans that he had later been informed was a 'fist bump', Yoongi had bowed over in a stiff forty five degree, opting to greet him with one of the more traditional ways and a friendly smile. Jin hadn't minded, had actually sighed with relief when he had been informed that they were to be roommates; it had been a load off his mind that he was paired with the one closest to his age. And besides, he liked the boy--they were similar in some ways, one being that they preferred the quiet over everything else.
Over the years, the fact remained unchanged. There had come a point where Jin had wondered whether Yoongi had had a western upbringing, but it had only taken a little bit of sleuthing and detective work ("Yoongi-ah, did you have a western upbringing?" "No.") to find that his dislike of skinship, of physical affection, stemmed from himself rather than from an outside influence. Exceptions made their way every now and then, yes, but the general consensus (that they'd had to repeatedly drill into the mind of a rather persistent Taehyung) was already reached and established; Give Min Yoongi His Space.
And so, when Yoongi, when Min Don't Touch Me Unless I Allow It Yoongi, began taking the initiative to slip his hand into a certain Park Jimin's, not once, not twice, but in multiples of dozens, all it took was one glance at the long, slim fingers that intertwined and unconsciously played with the smaller fist in his clutch, and Jin had had to excuse himself from the table, retreat into his room and finally let out the cackles of laughter he had been holding in—because Yoongi, Yoongi, the same boy who had repeatedly declared that music would be his only lover, was in for a very rude awakening.
- The Constant Bickering
Ironically, it was Jungkook's admiration for both of his hyungs that led him to stumble upon the poorly kept secret.
He idolized the second oldest hyung, always had ever since the first time he had walked in on him and Namjoon-hyung, both of them delivering their lines in heavy accents to a strong beat that had danced through the air and bounced off the walls. It had been his first days as a trainee; he had been trying to find the dance studio and had instead walked into a recording room where the two boys had sat, papers flung in front of them as they passionately spat out a series of rhymes and word plays in thick satoori, and a slight foreign accent.
Needless to say, he had ended up late to the dance lesson, and had been promptly scolded and humbled by the instructor.
Through a series of unexpected events (and several outings that involved lamb chops and lettuce wraps), he had managed to become closer to his hyung than he could have ever imagined, until a point was reached where he could safely say that they were mutually fond of each other. Yoongi-hyung might not be the most vocal person, but he still tried to show his affection through fond compliments and the occasional dad joke, all the while treating him with the same level of respect that he gave to any other member, encouraging his ideas and inputs into their work.
Jimin-hyung, on the other hand, showed his affection through clinginess.
They had all eventually come to know that Jungkook bore some resemblance to his younger brother, that they even shared the same birth year and the same habits of being quite shy (he wasn't shy, he was just reserved, Jungkook thought, slightly offended), and it had been a revelation of sorts as to why the older boy took particular care towards annoying the maknae of the group.
He'd never admit to it, but he did love the affection; it had helped in multitudes back when he had been a small boy too afraid to speak to his hyungs beyond what was absolutely necessary. Jimin-hyung made him feel comfortable, almost like they were actual brothers, with constant attacks of teasings and praises that left him a little (a lot) more confident in himself and his abilities.
Perhaps it was because he paid that much of attention to how his hyungs treated him, that he was so easily able to see that the way they acted around each other ventured a little outside of a normal hyung-dongsaeng relationship.
The two were workaholics, spending entire nights working in the dance room and the adjacent studio that were connected just by a door, and Jungkook had witnessed one too many nights where the older boy had staggered out of the room, Peanut Butter Crunch flavored protein bars in hand, demanding that Jimin take a break and help him finish these snacks his mother had sent him all the way from Daegu, solely because they were about to expire the next month.
(Jungkook kept quiet about that one day when he'd seen his hyung walking into the dorm, multiple grocery bags in hand, that had spilled onto the floor to reveal dozens of Peanut Butter Crunch OhYeah! Bars that he had hurriedly stuffed back into the bags. He also kept quiet about the fact that Yoongi-hyung had casually asked him, a long time back, about which flavors Jimin-hyung enjoyed the most.)
The members all scolded each other when necessary, tried their best to stop anyone from getting overworked to the point of sickness, but there was something different about the way the two bickered, something that had struck familiar to a string of memories he couldn’t exactly recall.
It wasn't so much that they bickered, it was how protective the little squabbles were. Each argument felt like something he shouldn't be witnessing, almost as if he were intruding on a personal moment—and he knew he wasn't the only one who felt that way from how the other members put on a panicked smile and walked as far away from the scene as they could. For someone like Yoongi-hyung who avoided conflict like the plague, he dedicated a lot of time to scolding Jimin-hyung for not caring as much about himself as he should.
It varied from the self-initiated (and completely unnecessary) diets that Jimin-hyung tried to adopt, to the nights that he refused to come back to the dorms for the night because Jin-hyung, I swear I've nearly gotten the hang of the move, I promise I'll be back soon. They teased each other, yes, and they also joked around and acted playful (which in itself was a peculiar sight—Yoongi hyung? Playful? Jungkook couldn't even begin to understand how this had come about), but after a certain point, the arguments had bothered him to such an extent that he had ended up calling his mother, voice small as he confessed to his fears about a possibly permanent dispute between his two hyungs.
His mother had laughed when he explained the situation, had chuckled for long, full minutes until Jungkook had almost regretted calling her for help — and by the time she had finally calmed herself enough to speak to him, he was sporting a very offended scowl.
"Jungkook-ah, do you remember how your father used to argue with me all the time because I ate too much of sweet things?" She asked, laughter lacing her words.
Jungkook frowned. What did that have to do with anything?
"Eomma, your sugar levels were dangerously high, what did you expect? Speaking of which, how is it now? Are you alright? Are you eating well?"
His mother laughed again, and Jungkook had felt a little vexed. What was the joke here?
"Jungkook, honey, you never change," she had laughed, and Jungkook could perfectly picture her snorting at him as she said the words.
Ah, he missed her so much.
"I'm fine, stop worrying now, alright? I brought that up as an example. Your father and I always bickered over that, and over other things too because, well, we cared about each other. Quite a lot. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Jungkook had slowly shook his head in confusion. "Not—not really. You and appa fight all the time because you love—Oh!" He had clapped one hand to his mouth. Background noises filtered through the speaker as his mother started laughing again.
"Oh?" He had repeated, slightly shocked at the revelation. Jimin-hyung, and... Yoongi-hyung???
"Oh." His mother had agreed, and that had been the end of that part of the conversation.
Ever since then, he had kept a closer eye on the two members. He noted how it was mostly the older hyung who got his way in convincing the other; whether it was about urging him to have more confidence in himself, or ordering him to rest the day after he had gotten a small sprain in his ankle, or pressing him to eat midnight snacks with him on nights that Jimin-hyung had been suspiciously absent from the dinner table. He could see the younger hyung try to bicker back, pointing out all the nights the other boy spent caged up in his studio, avoiding meal times and interactions, but most of it was followed by a strange look in the older boy's eyes; a hesitant look that was quickly masked behind shrugs and excuses of You don't understand, Jiminie, I'm nearly done with the newest track.
Yoongi-hyung was completely soft for Jimin-hyung, and Jungkook couldn't decide between being in awe and being in shock.
**
It was an autumn evening when Jungkook had finally realized that the last people who understood their feelings were the two hyungs themselves. They were scheduled for a fansigning event; had gotten ready and gathered in the living room when Yoongi had caught sight of Jimin in ripped jeans and a loosely fitting shirt. It was obvious that the long sleeves would do little to keep away the cold, especially with the low cut of the neck, and Yoongi had let out a colorful string of curses that he hadn't even known were words, while the sound of Jin reprimanding him had filled the background.
Yoongi had marched into his room, and had come out a few minutes later with bundles of cloth stuffed underneath his arms. Jimin had looked slightly scared as Yoongi had continued to scold him for dressing so lightly (It's almost winter, Jiminie! Hyung keeps telling you to dress warmer but you just never listen) and began shoving the younger boy's arms into the sleeves (The fans can survive one day without seeing your goddamned collarbones, alright) and then proceeded to yank the thick sweater down his head (Are you at least wearing gloves? Jiminie what were you thinking?!).
When they finally managed to leave the dorm, Jimin was dressed in ripped jeans, a loosely fitting T-shirt now hidden by two sweaters, a coat, fluffy gloves, and a scarf that had been added at the last second that had, not five minutes ago, been wrapped around Yoongi's neck. Jimin had waddled away to the first van that arrived, his face a cross between slight alarm and a lot of confusion, and Jungkook had looked around, wondering if anyone else had caught on to the moment. None of the members seemed to have noticed, that was, until his eyes had landed on Jin-hyung, who was facing away from the other members, his face ridiculously red and lips tightly pursed.
As the first van left, leaving behind him, Jin and Taehyung for the next one, their eyes had finally met and Jin had burst out in high shrieks of laughter, clutching his stomach as he howled into his free hand. Jungkook had snorted, unable to stop the stretch of his lips, and soon enough the three of them were laughing, tears forming in their eyes as they stood in the driveway of the dorms, slightly shivering from the cold.
"Wait, why are we laughing, Kookie?" Taehyung had asked somewhere between his chuckles, which had sent the other two into another round of laughter—Taehyung, not one to be let down, had joined them in this as well, chuckling with a slightly confused face.
Alright, maybe Taehyung would take their place as the ones who will be the last to realize it.
God, he loved his hyungs, he really did, but with all due respect—they were so stupid.
- Pictures.
Namjoon found out by purely by coincidence.
All he had wanted was a specific picture from their trip to Sweden to send to one of his friends, which had led to a late night phone call to the older boy.
"Ah, Joon-ah, I'm sorry but I'm at the studio right now. I don't think I'll be home soon so.. But hey, I think I kept the camera in the bedside drawer, you could just take it, alright?"
He tapped the surface of his laptop restlessly, impatient for it to warm up so that he could hook up the USB. Yoongi may have given him permission to use his stuff, but even the Lord himself wouldn't be able to protect him from his wrath if he accidentally managed to damage it.
He closed the antivirus pop-up asking for an update (he had updated it just the last week! Did this count as being in a demanding relationship?) and plugged the canon to the old dell. Whines from the cooling fan (he should really get that checked out) were promptly ignored as he waited for the device to connect.
Finally, the notification popped up, and he grinned as he quickly opened the folder. He quickly scrolled through the pictures, searching for the ones they had taken in Sweden when it caught his eye, and then gradually, the scrolling slowed to a stop as he took in what was glaring back at him.
957 items.
The numbers blinked back at him, but they weren't what he was focused on. Not quite believing his eyes, he scrolled a little further down, and then a little further, finally coming to pause and letting out a strangled laugh because, God, his hyung was so gone.
He clicked on one picture.
**
Jimin was wearing a black shirt, hair tousled from the wind, face flushed a rosy hue from whatever he had been doing moments before the picture was snapped. It was a side profile, the sharp jawline standing out as he stared ahead, a small smile on his face that anyone who properly knew him knew that never left his lips. The camera only captured him, but from the peek of a pair of sneakers at the very bottom left of the picture, it was evident that someone stood in front of the boy.
Park Jimin was beautiful, it was only common knowledge. From the picture, it was evident that the man behind the camera believed so as well.
**
He lay collapsed on a sofa this time, legs spread out, elbows almost slipping off the large armrests on either side. A blue snapback pulled the hair off his forehead, exposing honey dew skin that glowed in the light streaming in from the windows to the right. His head was slightly tilted to one side as he dozed, face still covered by the polka dotted mask that he had declared cute in a small store in a little village named Flåm (and had found, gift wrapped of all things, under the pillow of the bed he had slept in that very night), but you didn't need x-ray vision to know that his lips would be slightly parted into a small pout, not quite snoring but letting out an almost silent hum that made its presence known on especially tired days.
You didn't need x-ray vision, but perhaps you needed to be Min Yoongi.
**
/Snap/
An unsuspecting Jimin, soft skin and unstyled hair that seemed to shine in the yellow light of the café anyway, staring intently at his phone across the table, a large ice cream sundae lying untouched in front of him.
/Snap/
A shaky focus, a shocked look on the younger boy's face that accompanied the large blob of vanilla ice cream that left a messy trail on his left cheek.
/Snap/
A look of outrage and a smile that promised of revenge, finger already dipped into the ruined sundae.
/Snap/
A blur of yellow, honey dew and black, and just a glint of the silver hoop that they each owned, bought from a couple's stall (because they had both liked it, and it had been 3000 won cheaper that way).
/Snap/
A close up, this time, taken from below, two faces squeezed together to fit into the picture, of Min Yoongi and Park Jimin and moustaches made of remnants of what must have been a delicious ice cream sundae.
**
A Ben & Jerry's icecream umbrella stand, a splash of baby blue and white in the warm orange background. Jimin - posing this time - sat on the small bench, one hand on his lap and the other rested on the small metallic table, fingers just barely not touching his lips as he looked away from the camera.
**
Another one, with the same setting, except this time of Jimin leaning forward, both elbows now resting on the table, face squished in between his fists. His eyes were closed, and you could almost count the number of lashes that cast shadows onto his skin. A sweater that had not previously been there was draped around his shoulders, and it did not take a genius to know where it had come from.
The smile on his lips was content, genuine and unbearably sweet—and it did not take a genius to know who what had caused it.
**
Jimin, crouching on the ground to shake the hand of a small toddler who had walked by.
**
Jimin, in the middle of a pirouette that had been more of a joke than anything else, but the image had caught the light of the sun behind him, turning him into a dark silhouette of elegance and grace that belonged to the stuff of royalty.
**
Jimin,
**
Jimin,
**
Jimin.
**
Namjoon paused, finally having the decency to feel a little ashamed for having snooped through the images. Although—Yoongi had given him the permission to go through them, in which case the only logical explanation was that.. Yoongi himself hadn't realized it?
He barked out a laugh, wearily rubbing at his forehead. He had known him the longest from all the members; Yoongi was generally very straightforward about his emotions, choosing the 'rip it off quick like a band-aid' approach when it came to sharing his opinions with others (which had caused quite a messy net of misunderstandings in the very beginning that had been an absolute headache to deal with), but to his knowledge, the older boy had never actually felt a romantic attraction towards anyone, choosing to talk to the members about their own experiences instead to get a feel of what to write as lyrics for their more love inclined songs.
Hell, it had been a joke of the group; they had graduated Yoongi from Motionless Min to Emotionless Min, laughing amongst themselves over how oblivious the older boy was to the not so subtle looks he sometimes received from members of girl groups in festivals and End of the Year events. Min Yoongi just didn't do feelings, they had declared.
Except, it would seem that he did.
Very badly, at that.
Shaking his head with misbelief, he closed the folder, mind still reeling from the surprise. He didn't know the exact extent to which Yoongi was ignoring his own feelings, but judging from how he apparently thought nothing of the fact that more than three quarters of the pictures from his trip through Europe was pictures of, or including Park Jimin—the boy was chin-deep in denial, and Namjoon was not going to try and drag him out; Yoongi had proven time and again that he could deal with his problems by himself.
He hoped it happened sooner than latter though, because judging by the pictures?
He wasn't the only one who had his eyes closed to what was right in front of him.
- Dry mouths
and improper thoughts.
Hobi had a little game that he liked to play, and he called it the Guess the Number of Times Min Yoongi Will Get Flustered in Today's Dance Practice Game.
Jin had been the first one to join — it had been somewhere during the preparations for their official debut, and it hadn't escaped Hobi's notice that there was a direct correlation between the number of times Jimin practiced the move where they had to flash their abs (or stomachs, in some of their cases), and the number of times Yoongi had:
a) Bitten his lips,
b) Swallowed, hard, as if something was lodged in his throat
(His feelings, if anything),c) Unconsciously left his mouth agape for an embarrassingly long time,
d) Flushed from his hairline right down to his toes.
The answers were always all of the above, but Jin must have signed a contract with a demon, what with all the times he had estimated the numbers to the perfect digit. He wondered what the two members would think if they knew that half the Super Mario merchandise stacked in the older man's room were not, in fact, gifts from generous fans, but lost bets paid in the form of the winner's preferred currency, and a very good example of exactly how much Yoongi needed to better mask his feelings.
Jungkook and Namjoon had eventually joined, both of whom had come with an additional package of a very oblivious Kim Taehyung who had whispered out a number when the others had done the same, and had been very confused the next day when he had been gifted one of Namjoon's beanies that he had been eyeing for a very long time. ("But are you sure, hyung?" "Yes, Tae, you earned it." "I did?")
The best part - Hoseok rather thought - was that Jimin, darling boy that he was, had no idea about the effect he had on his hyung. He was completely oblivious to how a fluid neck arc broke the calm, cold (and often exhausted) demeanor within seconds, was clueless to how a body roll and a hip thrust could put a blush to the older boy's cheeks that their stylists normally had to spend hours hoping to achieve.
Which, of course, led to the best incidents.
Like last summer, when they had still been practicing the choreography for their next music video, and Yoongi hadn't quite gotten the grasp of one of the steps.
It wasn't a particularly difficult one, but it was still tricky; a slight arm movement accompanied with a body roll to the side, the catch being that it required a single fluid motion.. and a certain level of grace that Yoongi had found very, very difficult to conjure up.
"Yah, J-hope, why do I look like I'm having a seizure when I do this?" he had whined in his direction, and Hobi had distractedly thrown him a glance, having been in the middle of helping Jin with his freestyle. Yoongi had his arms out, a frustrated look on his face as he redid the move he had been repeating for the last twenty minutes.
Hobi had visibly blanched.
He had made to move towards him when he had caught Jin attempt a dance step from the corner of his eye (Really, calling it a flail would have been generous), and had promptly changed his mind; this one needed all the help he could get right now.
Running one hand through his hair, he had quickly looked around the dance studio. Taehyung and Jungkook were huddled together in one corner of the room, both of them engrossed in whatever the younger boy's phone was showing them, and Namjoon was spread out flat on the floor, chest heaving as he took in deep breaths. And Jimin..
"Ah, Jimin!" he had called out, missing the horrified look that flashed across Yoongi's face. "Can you help Yoongi-hyung with that step we did earlier today? I've got my hands pretty full with Jin-hyung over here."
Jimin had instantly looked up, a bright smile on his face as he walked towards them. The white shirt he wore was almost translucent as it clung to his skin, his face still flushed pink from the day's practice—and none of this seemed to go unnoticed by Yoongi, who had looked back and forth from him to Hobi, a slightly panicked look in his eye.
"No!" His voice had cracked as he said it, and he had had to clear his throat before starting again. "I mean, no, it's--it's alright, Jiminie, I'll just.. figure it out by myself.."
"Are you saying I'm not good enough, Suga-hyung?" Jimin had pouted, and the tips of Yoongi's ears had slowly turned red. Hobi had almost whistled, watching the clumsy interaction unfold; he had never actually seen someone's ears go red, had only read of it in romance novels he had snuck out of his sister's room as a junior back in high school.
He supposed the story of Yoongi-hyung and Jimin would make an excellent(ly frustrating) love story, but he was personally more of the opinion that they deserved a place in an Encyclopedia instead, right under the section for Blindness.
"No, of course not! I just—I mean. Sure. You do it very.. Nice. Well, I meant well. Thank you, Jiminie." Hobi lightly snickered - watching his hyung flounder for words would never stop being funny.
A hand slapped his shoulder and he had turned back to find Jin staring at him, a wide grin on his face as he nodded his head towards his extended hand. "Pay up, bitch." He had hissed, and Hobi had whipped around, looking at Yoongi desperately try to keep a blank face while Jimin nudged his legs further apart with his knees, mentally recalling the number of incidents for the day.. Seven... nine... twelve.
Motherfucker.
And that was how Jin happily added a $59.99 Nintendo: Super Mario Bros Costume Bathrobe to his rapidly increasing collection.
***
With their comeback just around the corner, it was already mid-August when they were informed of the finalized concept for their album.
There had been a lot of ideas going around; their newest album was, of course, of a darker theme compared to what they had done before, and they had all been expecting something of a more mature setting—except, it would seem, that the finalized concept was a fine combination of aesthetics, masculinity and a(n entire bottle) dash of poorly concealed kinks.
Chokers were all the rage right now, their stylists had explained. That didn't, however, explain how each second of their choreography was specifically designed to look like sin, with a very clear objective of making jaws drop and hearts race.
And jaws were dropping; to be more specific - jaws that belonged to a certain boy named Min Yoongi.
They were sitting side by side, chatting as they went through their cool down routine ("Hyung, you know that barely touching your knees does not count as a toe-stretch, right?" "Shut up Seokseok, if I do two of those it adds up to a whole.") after a particularly grueling dance practice. Namjoon and Jin had already left, whining about being cursed with long limbs, lowering the number of people in the room to five.
"Yeah, they've called me in tomorrow to record the intro," Hobi groaned out, clenching his eyes shut as he rubbed his neck. "What about you, hyung?"
"There was something wrong with the string arrangement," Yoongi replied, a small frown on his face. "A corrupted file, I think? They're trying to see if they can—"
Hobi glanced to his left, wondering why the other had broken off.
Ah, he should have known.
Jimin stood on the opposite side of the room, his back turned to them as he practiced the dance steps for the chorus of their main track. His face was reflected in the mirror as he tilted his neck in a smooth arc, slowly gliding his hand across his face as he shifted into the next step in an effortless transition that left even Hobi impressed.
Yoongi visibly gulped.
Perhaps their comeback would end up being successful in more than one way, Hobi thought, grinning at how his hyung sat rigid, mouth slightly agape.
Ah, he couldn't wait to see how his hyung would react to the chokers.
5. A special spot in his heart.
Taehyung was... a little upset.
He continued to look at the picture currently opened on his phone, the beginnings of a pout forming on his face. Their group chat on KakaoTalk had been pretty active over Chuseok, each member flooding it with selcas and pictures of homemade feasts in an effort to outcompete each other.
But then Yoongi-hyung, Yoongi-hyung, who almost never talked on the group had sent Chuseok greetings as well, image attached and all.
It was a picture of a room, sunlight streaming in through thin curtains turning the air golden. The image had captured the details down to the sparkling dust motes, and Jimin sat on the carpeted floor, legs crossed and body enveloped in an overly large sweater that paled in stripes where sunlight fell on it. He was smiling at his lap, where a fluffy, chocolate colored mop of fur was seen; Holly, who had apparently fallen asleep in Jimin's arms.
In normal circumstances, he would have cooed over the picture and demanded his hyung to send more, but.. this time, Taehyung couldn't help but feel a little bad for himself. He lived in Daegu, and he would have liked to meet a puppy..
He crawled out of his bed, groggily rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he made towards the living room, the bed sheet trailing the floor behind him. Jimin sat on the couch, and immediately looked up from his phone as Taehyung approached him, face ready with a smile that faded away as the beginnings of concern made its appearance instead. Wordlessly, he opened his arms, and Taehyung crawled into the hug, tugging the bed sheet tighter around them, trapping them both on the sofa.
"Chim," he whispered after a while, and Jimin hummed in answer.
"Chimchim," he repeated in a sad voice, and this time Jimin replied with a "Yes, Taetae?"
"Chimchim, I don't think Yoongi-hyung likes me." He kept his voice low, slightly ashamed at his own admission.
Jimin slightly stiffened, and then slowly relaxed into Taehyung's hug as he cleared his throat. "Why would you think so, Taetae?" He asked gently, slowly moving apart so that he could look his best friend in the eye. Not that it helped, with how the boy was hiding behind his fringe.
"Yeah, why would you think so, Taetae?" A loud voice came from the back, followed by Jin leaning forwards and flicking the back of Taehyung's head. He casually strode up to one end of the couch, making himself comfortable on the edge as Jungkook followed him, a slightly hesitant look on his face. Taehyung shook his head at the questioning look on Jimin's face - he didn't really mind that they were here.
"Well," he started, smiling gratefully when Jimin squeezed his hand. "It just feels like he's close to everyone in the group except with me, right? You're his roommate, hyung," he nodded in Jin's direction, "and you're both ajusshis so that makes sense, and Hobi-hyung and Namjoon-hyung and him have their rapping and the underground background in common so that's fine too. And Kookie, you're the maknae," Jungkook opened his mouth to protest, but Taehyung ignored him as he continued. "So it makes sense that he spends time with you. So I always thought, if he treats me the same way he treats Chiminie, then that's fine, right?" He pouted then, lowering his hand from where he had been crossing off his fingers for each member.
"But he gives you special attention too Jiminie!" He whined, missing the amused look Jin threw at Jungkook. Jimin simply looked confused.
"He doesn't give me special attention!" He argued, both of them facing each other and hence missing the ugly snort that came from a side. "Does too!" Taehyung cried out, pointing his finger accusingly at the other boy. "Okay, wait, I made a list," he murmured distractedly, trying to fish out his phone through the blanket he had tightly wrapped around himself.
"Yes! So. Everyone keeps saying hyung doesn't like touching people, but he keeps holding your hand all the time!" He exclaimed, forgetting that he had ever been upset as he smugly grinned at his best friend in a way that said There! Take that, Chimchim!
His cheeks were faintly pink as Jimin scoffed in reply. "No? I mean, sometimes, sure. But I'm sure he does it with everyone else too!" The sound of a throat clearing came from the side, and they both looked back to find Jin observing the nails on one hand as he patted Jungkook's head with the other. "Uh, no, Jimin. Yoongi doesn't hold my hand."
"Or mine," Jungkook piped in, looking a little too eager.
"AHA! See?! Even they agree, Minnie!" Taehyung victoriously declared, and Jimin frowned, a skeptic look on his face. Taehyung crossed his arms as he tried to recall all the times his hyung had been extra touchy with his best friend.
"There was that time in August, right before he released his mixtape. He kept back hugging you throughout the day!"
Jimin blushed harder as he tried to rationalize it. "He was nervous! He was really worried about how his songs would do!"
"I helped with some of the songs, Jiminie, but he didn’t back hug me for the entire day. Or ever, really," Hobi's voice rang from the kitchen, and soon enough he made his appearance, a large bowl of potato chips in hand. He sat next to Jimin, settling into a more comfortable position as he munched on a chip, and then finally looked up. He was greeted with four faces looking in his direction, or rather a glare, in Jimin's case. "Chip?" He chirped through a full mouth, offering one to the smaller boy.
Jungkook sniggered.
"What about that time in Malaysia when he wouldn't stop trying to hold his hand during our trip to that zoo?" Jin happily offered, pretending to look slightly mollified when Jimin glared at him.
"Yeah! Even the cameras caught it! And Suga-hyung doesn't even do fan-service." Hobi added, a devilish grin on his face. Taehyung wasn't even speaking now, just watching his hyungs – and Jungkook – throwing in memory after memory. "And he keeps saying he wants to go to a deserted island with you, Jimin-hyung," Jungkook murmured, very obviously trying to keep in a smile.
"He didn't say that!" Jimin complained. "He said that if he was stuck on a deserted island, he'd want me to be the one with him. Which is different! It's just so that he can boss me around like he always does."
"That too!" Taehyung chimed in. "He always asks you to do things with him first! It's so obvious that he has a preference, he's even said that he wants to give you a song, Jimin."
Jimin looked a little thrown off, and was about to reply when Jungkook spoke up.
"Remember when Jimin-hyung fainted in that Osaka fanmeet and Suga-hyung secretly cried in the van?"
"He cried?" Jimin asked in a small voice, and the room fell quiet.
A few seconds passed, and Jin cleared his throat as he spoke. "Well, anyway, Taehyung, I doubt that Yoongi doesn't like you. He just.. treats Jiminie here a little different from how he treats the rest of us, that's all."
Taehyung turned around, letting the bedspread slip from his shoulders as he pouted at his hyung. "Really? Are you sure he doesn't hate me?"
"Who hates you?" A familiar deep voice came from the doorway, and all of them stiffened in place, eyes wide in terror. The sound of shoes being kicked off echoed all the way to the living room, and soon enough, a very grumpy Yoongi wrapped in an overly large coat walked into the living room, scowling as he fought with the scarf knotted around his neck. He strode over to the couch, squeezing himself between Hobi and Jimin as he nicked a noticeably long fry, casually putting one hand around Jimin's shoulder as he leant towards Taehyung.
"Yah, do you want hyung to beat them up for you?" He asked with a serious face, making a slight motion with his free hand (in what couldn't possibly be a mock punch, the boy's thumb was tucked right into the tight fist). Taehyung looked at his hyung, lost for words. Jin, savior that he was, filled the silence with a sweet "Yoongi-ah, remember that night when there was a cockroach on the ceiling and you called me five times even though I was on the bed next to you because 'it might have heard you and made a move'?"
Yoongi glared at the older boy before turning back to Taehyung. "Well?" He asked. Taehyung looked at his lap for a while, clearly struggling with something before he burst out. "Hyung, do you like me?"
Startled, Yoongi frowned at the boy who was clearly very upset.
"Of course I like you, dummy. Why would you think otherwise?" He asked, slightly curious on what brought this about. Taehyung was always a happy little thing; he didn't get upset without good reason.
"Really?" Taehyung probed, a hopeful look in his eyes. "Just as much as you like Namjoon-hyung and Jin-hyung and Hobi-hyung?"
"Just as much as I like Namjoon-hyung and Jin-hyung and Hobi-hyung." Yoongi firmly agreed.
"And just as much as you like Kookie?" Taehyung asked again, and Yoongi raised one brow.
"Just as much as I like Kookie, Taehyung." He confirmed.
"And just as much as you love Chimchim?" Taehyung pressed him on, and this time, Yoongi slightly shifted in place, looking slightly uncomfortable as he tugged at his coat.
"Just as much as I like Jiminie, Tae." He replied after a miniscule pause.
Taehyung stayed silent for a while, looking intensely at his hyung's face. And then—
"Okay!" He smiled brightly, jumping up from the couch as he stretched his arms and yawned. "I'm sleepy, the trip back here was exhausting. G'night everyone!" And just like that, Taehyung was gone, lightly skipping as he made his way back to his room.
It wasn't the first time for Taehyung's strange personality to render them speechless, but it was the first time it left two people sitting on the couch, ignoring eye contact as they awkwardly separated from each other, with faces that could put tomatoes to shame.
- And a support system.
Min Yoongi was, undeniably, on the verge of a panic attack.
The preordering for their album would begin in almost a week, which was due for release in exactly three weeks, and it was their first full album since Dark & Wild which had been two years ago and Yoongi's solo was yet to be completed so yes, he was panicking. He was panicking hard.
Almost everything that could go wrong had gone wrong for his track – first, the string arrangement had been completely lost; a series of corrupted files that no one they brought in had been able to retrieve. They'd had to work on it from scratch, and even with Miss Kay working on it, it had taken an entire two weeks to recreate it as close to the original; which had meant that his short film teaser had had to be released without any of his track. Which had been fine, if not a little disappointing; he had been excited to show the fans what he'd been working on.
And then, then, there had been a slight issue with plagiarism; the guitar riff at the end of the song had sounded a little similar to a song from a western country, and they'd had to rewrite the entire thing; which had meant that by the time Chuseok came around, the track had still been unfinished.
**
The company had insisted that all the members head back for the short holiday, and seeing as there would be no one but him in the studio, Yoongi had conceded and gone to his parent's home, uneasy feelings nagging him throughout the flight. He'd lazed around, coddling and pampering Holly to the point where his brother had had to literally drag him away from the puppy to come join everyone for dinner. Apart from that, he had generally spent most of the first day deep asleep, only waking up late into the night when his phone had beeped from a notification.
Yawning, he had gone downstairs for a much needed glass of water. Glass in hand, he had walked out the back, leaning on the doorframe as he looked up at the sky.
Sure, Daegu didn’t have as many skyscrapers as Seoul, or the same bustling crowds that moved with that constant state of urgency – but as far as night skies went, Yoongi thought, watching a handful of stars twinkle weakly in the light infused sky, there wasn't much of a difference between the two cities.
His phone beeped again and he had looked at it, raising the glass of water to his lips. A text notification greeted him on the plain black wallpaper.
He had grinned, sliding his thumb across the phone screen to unlock it. Jimin had been a little worried about him lately, hovering around him to check on how he was doing all the time, which had to be the only good outcome from the entire mess that had been the last month.
Beggars can't be choosers, after all. He knew how pointless his feelings were, but that wouldn't stop him from basking in as much attention from his Jiminie as he possibly could.
The long beeps of a call trying to connect filled his ear, until it was replaced with the familiar sweet voice.
"Hello?"
Logically, it should be impossible for someone to sound breathtaking over a phone call, but it was what it was – Yoongi sharply inhaled, trying to recover from what he rather thought getting hit by a dozen trucks would feel like.
"Why aren't you asleep?" He had spoken gently into his phone, pressing the cold glass in his hand to his warm cheeks. A strangle rumbling sound served as background music to Jimin's voice as he replied. "Could say the same to you, hyung."
"I spent the entire day sleeping. Any longer and I'd have needed a prince to wake me up," he had grinned when Jimin giggled in reply, proud that he'd been the one who had caused it. "Maybe you should have waited a little longer then," Jimin's voice was liquid happiness; Yoongi could try making sense of it for years, but he still wouldn’t be able to conjure up an explanation for why he sounded like chiming bells, like breezy walks down an empty road, like twinkling stars and glittering gems, like home.
They had been over an hour into their talk when Jimin mentioned that he had been home alone for the day.
"You're home alone? What about your parents? Your brother?" Yoongi had asked, instantly worried.
Jimin had let out a weak laugh as he replied. "Abeonim is away on an overseas conference, and Jihyun is at some camp in Kyoto. Eomeoni was supposed to be home for the holidays but.. She got called in for work around evening, a trip to Seoul of all things."
"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Yoongi groaned, crouching down to place the glass on the ground before he spilled any more of it. How was it that he hadn't managed to finish a simple glass of water in over an hour's time? "You.. You know that you could come over to my place any time, right?" He had asked hesitantly, frowning as he heard the sounds of a distant screeching, not unlike fingernails on gravel.
"Actually," Jimin's laugh had sounded different, almost sheepish. "I was hoping you would say that.."
Yoongi had knocked over the glass in his haste, the water spilling over the wooden floor and seeping out of the still opened door, soaking into the grass outside, staining it a darker green. He paid it no mind, repeating Jimin's words in his mind as he raced through the kitchen and then the living room, almost tripping on the rug as he reached out and yanked the front door open.
Cause I'm kind of outside your house right now..
Jimin stood near the road, rubbing his hands together as he kicked at a small rock on the ground. His air came in small puffs of mist that quickly diffused into the cold Autumn air, and a dark fringe peaked out of the beanie covering his head, the black strands contrasting beautifully with the pink hue on his cheeks, thrown into spotlight by the orange lamplights that illuminated the streets.
He looked up as Yoongi approached him, smiling so bright that Yoongi could have sworn, for a few seconds, that the sun had rose — but it was still dark as Yoongi dragged him back inside, carrying his bag in one hand as he scolded the younger boy for not wearing a warmer coat.
"And dammit Jiminie, couldn't you have waited till the sun rose? Cabs aren't really safe this time of the night, you know," he had ended with a small huff, too giddy to really put as much anger into his voice as he wanted to.
He was weak, after all, always, for Jimin. And perhaps especially so in that moment, for the innocent look in the younger boy's eyes as he blinked up at him, smiling sheepishly as he had replied;
I couldn't wait.
**
Chuseok had gone by in a blur, all too soon, and now here he was, sitting on a stool chair in a hushed live room, and maybe the background track was finally complete but they had a week to add the vocals and perfect everything, and what if something went wrong there? What if they lost everything again? He couldn't remember half of the lyrics he had spent days writing and perfecting, and the recording was going to start any moment now and they'd all know how nervous he was even though he was just being stupid and he couldn't—he couldn't—
The door to the control room opened, and he watched from the large window panel as Jimin walked in, a few others trailing in behind him. He latched onto the sight, drinking in the comfort that just seeing Jimin offered, almost wept with joy when he threw him a smile.
Jimin was with him. He was here. It was going to be fine.
He took one last look at the window, one corner of his mouth lifting in a smile when Jimin waved at him, sending him two thumbs ups and then a series of finger hearts. His lips moved in a silent good luck and Yoongi nodded, slowly gaining back the momentarily lost confidence.
He adjusted the headphones as the engineers outside signaled that the music would start in ten seconds.
This was a song that contained every ounce of his feelings, cut down and delicately shaped into an ode addressed to the love of his life.
Maybe, if he pulled this off, he'd be able to convince himself of that as well; that the lyrics that had poured out of his fingers, in a series of late nights over cups of caffeine, had been meant for music, and not for the boy with crescent eyed smiles and small fingers that perfectly fit in his, that currently stood outside, oblivious to his feelings.
He'd rather keep it that way than face the alternative, of course.
The gentle keys of the piano reverberated in his ears as he opened his mouth, the words freely falling out of his lips;
And Jimin, Jimin was.. a little in shock.
He hadn't slept at all the previous night, despite the long hours he had laid on his bed, eyes closed, praying for a much needed rush of sleep to quieten the thoughts that kept rushing through his head at the speed of light, which was definitely beyond the speed limit in Korea, which wouldn't do, because he was a good, law abiding citizen of the country.. who was, it would seem, horribly, deeply, wonderfully in love with his fellow bandmate.
No, that wasn't right, he had winced, tiredly pushing away the fringe from his forehead. In love were such strong words to use; he just happened to.. like his hyung.. differently.
Differently, that was right.
Differently, in a way that made him a little happier when the other boy was around, and a little sadder when he wasn't. Differently, such that their conversations via chats and series of text messages left him smiling long after the notifications stopped coming. Differently, meaning that he craved his attention, reveled in it even when it was delivered in the form of scoldings and reprimanding lectures, but even more so when it was gifted in wide grins and late night talks in the studio that stretched till the first blues of dawn.
Differently, so that his chest felt a little tighter on days that the older boy kept to himself, where Namjoon had quietly asked everyone to give him a little more space. Differently, where he had felt a light tug at his heart when he spotted him leaving the bathroom with red rimmed eyes and swollen cheeks, and felt a desperate need to comfort, but had known enough, had belived in him enough to stay away. Differently, that made him almost cry in relief in the mornings after, when he was thrown a grateful smile and a ruffle to his head that he pretended to hate but had leant towards anyway, just a little.
Differently, where he couldn't really explain the warm feeling in his bones when they were doing absolutely nothing, just strolling along a pathway or lying completely spent on the couch after an exhausting concert — where waiting for their turns to use the bathroom became a time slot for mutual teasing instead. Differently, because he loved all of his hyungs, was always beyond impressed at how Namjoon and Hoseok managed to spit out a series of words and string them together into a captivating rhythm, but neither of them made his mouth go dry the way Yoongi did, as he strutted around the stage, a slight swagger to his movements as his hands mimicked the urgency of the hypnotizing flow that left his lips, that pulled him in, easy, like a rat in the face of the Pied Piper.
Differently, because he never really stopped thinking about him, he couldn't - not even if he tried.
Differently, because he was in love with his hyung, and had never realized it.. until now.
**
His mind was in a daze as he sat down for breakfast, quietly accepting the bowl that Jin handed him. He didn’t even notice the brand of the cereal box he mindlessly grabbed (They'd had to buy five different types after Taehyung had learnt that there was more than one type of cereal, and had insisted that he wanted to try a little bit of everything at once), filling the bowl to the brim before he soaked it all in milk.
He looked around the table, to where Namjoon and Hobi were quietly looking at their phones, where Jungkook had his headphones on, humming to a familiar tune, and Taehyung sat, sleepily rubbing his eyes as he drank straight from the carton, shoving a handful of cereal into his mouth next.
"Is Yoongi-hyung still asleep?" He asked Jin, who was rummaging the cupboards, a slightly frustrated look on his face. "No he left early for his recording today. Have any of you seen my Froot Loops? I could have sworn we bought one before Chuseok.."
Taehyung guiltily kicked the discarded box further underneath the table, trying his best to swallow everything in his overstuffed mouth.
"Oh!" Jimin stood up in a flash, upsetting the bowl of cereal in front of him. Jungkook looked up, one brow raised as he unplugged one of the earbuds. "I should — I mean, we should go. And support him. He was pretty nervous about this, wasn't he?" He stumbled over the words, missing how Jin dramatically clutched his heart behind him. Jungkook, however, didn't; a slow smile spread on his face as he tugged at Taehyung's shirt.
"Tae, Jimin's right. We should go support our hyung, right?" He asked, a mischievous smile on his face. Taehyung blinked at him, once, twice, before his face broke out in a huge boxy grin. "Support hyung! Awesome! Let's go!"
As the three made their way to the recording studio, not very far from their dorms, Jimin had to admit to himself that maybe he was just a little disappointed, and that maybe, just maybe, he had been hoping he could go support his hyung by himself.
**
As they entered the control room of the studio, Jimin's eyes immediately sought out the older boy, finally latching onto him where he set in the live room, headphones on his ears, a slightly panicked look on his face.
He knew that Yoongi had been beyond worried about his solo track; a lot of things that had been out of their control had delayed it's recording by an entire month, which meant that he had been keeping a closer eye on the older boy for the past weeks, trying his best to cheer his hyung up. He liked to think he had succeeded somewhat; Yoongi had seemed a lot more content as he had napped on their train back to Seoul.
He smiled at him, noting the look of relief that immediately flashed across his hyung's face. Spurred on, he quickly waved to him, raising his fists to his face as he put up a thumbs up, and then squeezed his eyes shut as he put two finger hearts against his cheeks.
Wondering if it worked, he peeked out of one eye, and ah, there it was.
His hyung was very handsome - he had always thought so - but he also rather thought that he looked best like this; with a little smile on his face that was meant for him.
He mouthed a small good luck, and smiled brightly when Yoongi nodded back, looking a lot better than he had when Jimin had first come in the room. Slowly, he walked towards the mixing consoles that lined the window separating him from the live room, making himself comfortable on one chair as he took one of the headphones and placed it on his ear.
Yoongi's voice was soft – a gentle crooning in his ear as he spoke through the headpiece.
"The corner of my memory ;
A brown piano settled on one side.
In the corner of my childhood house,
A brown piano settled on one side."
**
He remembered the first time they met; Jimin had been fresh out of Busan when he had auditioned for BigHit – his baby fat still on his cheeks and the lilt of a Kyŏngsang dialect resting on his tongue when he was finally introduced to the members that he had been informed he was joining.
Most of them had been friendly, but he could also feel the slightly reserved atmosphere around them; after all, he was the last to join them, and his presence could mean that their debut would be even further pushed back, and he couldn't blame them for feeling slightly wronged.
They had talked a bit, swapped their interests and their numbers, and when he had informed them of his age, Taehyung had immediately clung to him, excitedly talking about how they were going to be the best of friends. Which he had appreciated, quite a lot (but maybe he would have appreciated it even more without the death grip that the boy had around his chest).
And then they had announced that they were about to go out for lunch, and Jimin, new as he was, had not known what to do. Was he invited along, or was it a preplanned thing that hadn't involved bringing the new kid along?
He had stood there, awkwardly scratching the back of his head when the boy who had remained mostly quiet throughout the interaction turned around, brows raised in an expectant look.
"Well? Aren't you joining us, Jimin?"
Jimin had beamed as he quickly ran forwards, coming to level with the older boy that patiently waited for him to catch up before they walked out of the building, together.
°
He also remembered the first time he had seen Yoongi smile;
They had moved into their new dorm by then, and Jimin hadn't seen much of the older boy who mostly kept to himself when they weren't eating or practicing. With no schedules for the day, they had all, except for Yoongi, who had been taking a shower, been lounging in the room that they all shared when Taehyung had declared that it was time for entertainment.
The TV hadn't been installed yet, which made everyone slightly confused. But Taehyung's idea of entertainment seemed to vary a lot from theirs, as he made everyone sit in a row on one side of the room, and then went on to ask each member to go stand in front, one by one, while covering their faces with their back turned to them, and then jump around with their best aegyo face.
("It's very important for an idol group like us! We must practice having to sacrifice our dignity in the name of our loving fans!" Taehyung had cried out, face significantly ecstatic for someone who was supposed to be despairing over lost dignity.)
Namjoon had immediately left the room, with excuses of a phone call to a phone that was very visibly not ringing.
The four of them had ended up playing along, Jin making a crying face that had sent all of them into fits of laughter, and then into hysterics as he shuddered with self-disgust as he walked back into his spot. Jimin was the fourth one to go up, and he had groaned and whined as Taehyung dragged him off the floor, pushing him towards the front of the room.
"Alright, fine! Fine!" he had half laughed out. "Just so you guys know, I'm very bad at this, okay?"
He still had his eyes closed as he jumped around to face the awaiting audience, lips pouted, and both index fingers poking puffed out cheeks.
Laughter ensued, much louder than before. Jimin peeked out of one eye, and was greeted with the image of a very shirtless Yoongi, towel draped around his shoulder as he stared at him, face completely blank, hair still dripping from the shower.
Jimin just stared back, too mortified to make a single move, hands still poking his own cheeks.
And then the strangest thing had happened; Yoongi's face had twitched a couple of times, and then broken out in a large gummy smile, eyes almost crinkling shut from the force of it. He leant forward, ruffling Jimin's hair before walking out of the room, chuckling to himself as he left.
"Cute."
Jimin heard the word, but remained frozen in place. He hadn't thought his hyung even knew how to smile...
..Or that he would look so pretty while doing so.
°
And the first time Yoongi had let him see him cry.
Jimin had been in the kitchen, about to start preparing ramyun so that it would be ready by the time everyone came back, when he had heard a strange moaning coming from one of the rooms.
Certain that that was not a happy moan (Which there were plenty of; seven boys living in a dorm generally led to a lot of awkward moments), he had hesitantly walked towards the room the sounds were coming from. He knocked first, waiting for a response of any kind, and when there wasn't any, he had put one hand over his eyes and opened the door, calling out, "Hey, I'm coming in okay? I have my eyes closed!"
When there was still no response, he had slowly let his hand drop – and gasped as he was greeted with the sight of Yoongi crumpled onto the floor next to his bed, his hand clutching his stomach as he curled up into a tighter ball.
"Suga-hyung!" He had called out, terrified out of his wits as he scrambled onto the ground, lifting his hyung's head onto his lap. "Suga-hyung, what's wrong? Where are you hurting? Hey, hey wake up!" He had gently slapped his hyung's face, hissing through his teeth as he felt the heat that pulsated through his skin, and then sighed in relief when he finally opened his eyes.
The relief was short-lived, however, as his hyung's face immediately crumpled, tears slipping out of the corners of his eyes as he tried to curl further towards the younger boy. Jimin shifted them so that Yoongi was sitting up, heavily leaning against him, one hand draped around him that gently pushed his head onto his shoulder, and immediately called one of their managers.
"Hyung, there's—there's something wrong Yoongi-hyung, he's really feverish and – and he's hurting a lot-"
He looked down at his chest, where the older boy was still silently crying, clutching at his stomach.
"I think it's his stomach, hyung, what—what should I do?!"
As they waited for the ambulance, he had slowly lifted Yoongi from the floor, cradling him to his chest as he carried him to the living room. Yoongi didn’t let go of his hand, squeezing it to the point where Jimin couldn't feel his own fingers, and Jimin had whispered sweet nothings into his ear, encouraged by the shaky but appreciative nod Yoongi gave in response;
"You're going to be alright, hyung. I'm right here, okay? I'm going to be right here, and
you're going to be fine.."
°
He remembered, all too clearly, their first real fight.
"Jiminie, it's three in the morning. Come on, let's go home."
"Just a few minutes, okay hyung? I've nearly gotten the hang of this move.."
"Jimin, you said that two hours ago."
"Well two hours ago I didn't know that I was going to be such a slow learner, so."
"Jimin, the concert is tomorrow night. You know what that means right? We're going to be busy all. Day."
"It also means this is the last chance I have to practice, okay?"
"Can you stop being so stubborn for once?"
"Can you stop being such a nagger for once?"
"I'll stop nagging when you start becoming a sensible human being Jiminie! Honestly, I don't see how what you're doing right now is any different from what you were doing four hours ago."
"Jiminie, do this. Jiminie, do that. Does anything else come out of your mouth?!"
"Well excuse me for trying to be a good hyu—"
"Stop it! Stop it, stop it, stop it!!"
"Jim—"
"And stop calling me that! I'm not some— I'm not some outlet where you can just boss me around and—and pretend to care about an actual human being to feel better about the fact that you're so emotionally crippled that you can't even find enough courage to release a goddamned mixtape!'
"..Excuse me?"
"Suga-hyung, wait, I didn't—"
"Hyung, I didn't meant it! Please, slow down—"
"Hyung, I'm sorry!"
Hyung, I'm sorry.
°
And how they had made up, slowly, gradually, until they were simply not angry anymore.
How their eyes had met across the stage as they lined up to say their goodbyes to the fans, hesitant and apologetic, disappointed and sad. A look that seemed to say, will we be okay? And broken gazes followed by downcast eyes that said not yet, not right now.
The web of guilt and remorse he had spun around himself as he sat in the van next to a maknae who was too absorbed in his phone to notice that anything was wrong, and how it was slowly cut away, string by string, as the younger boy stood up and Yoongi sat in his place, not looking, not speaking, not yet, but Jimin had heard the words all the same: Not yet, not right now.. but we will be.
The following day, when he had been running late and the van had been about to leave, and he had stumbled into the living room, one hand shoved awkwardly into a sleeve of his coat, and Yoongi had been there, waiting for him. How Yoongi had stepped forwards, gently pulled the remaining sleeve up his other arm, and straightened the coat around him before walking towards the door. And how Jimin had stood there, a little afraid that this was part of his imagination, until Yoongi had turned around and extended his hand.
How he had cried as he slipped his hand into an all too familiar one, and how they had walked to the van together, Yoongi shielding his face from everyone, from the entire world.
°
When it had been four hours until Yoongi's birthday, and he had already spent an entire week thinking of the perfect present and another week searching for it, but it hadn't seemed enough, nothing seemed enough, and he had ended up knocking on the older boy's room, only for the door to be opened by a sleepy Jin who had told him that Yoongi had already gone to the studio.
A sequence of hastily pressed numbers, and a series of long beeps as he impatiently waited.
Beep
Because something as simple as a present wasn't enough, would never be enough to show the overwhelming gratitude that he was currently feeling, that he always felt. Present continuous, past and future.
Beep
Because he might see him tomorrow, or later that night, but an instant had never felt as important, as urgent, as dire.
Beep
Because his hyung was so good, so kind, so wonderful; so many great things that a person like him could only ever dream of being, and yet so very blind to his own dazzling reflection.
It was alright though, because Jimin would be there to tell him.
Beep
Jimin would always be there to tell him, because he didn't know it yet, and he wouldn't know it for quite a while,
Beep
But he was in love with his hyung
Beep
And who could see beauty better than someone in love?
SUGA-HYUNG
00:02
"Hello?"
°
And just hours later, on a live broadcast, when a question was asked;
"You guys, it's my birthday, so can you say some comments?"
And it had been his turn, but words had refused to come to his mouth, thoughts squeezed dry by a conversation that had ended less than an hour ago, and he had simply bobbed his head, a shy smile on his face as he recalled the phone call,
"You know."
Because he would know.
And the swift reply, as the question went to the next person in line,
"I know."
Because he knew.
(Except they hadn't known; not all of it, not at all.)
°
And finally, he remembered the late nights that followed; where they had hogged the couch one night, slightly tipsy from the bottle of wine that had been a toast for their success, and talked until stars spotted the Seoul nightsky which they blindly looked at through a stargazing app that Jimin had recently downloaded onto his phone.
He remembered how Yoongi had scoffed and called it a waste of money when it had declared that the sun was right above them, and Jimin had smiled, reaching over to take his phone back as he sweetly murmured, hyung, the location is still off.
And he remembered the nonchalant rise of his shoulders as Yoongi shrugged the fact off, and proudly declared, chest puffed out, that Jiminie, you're the only star I'd ever want to search for, and you're right here.
And how he had missed the impact of the words as he crumpled underneath the weight of his insecurities, had slowly shook his head and mumbled out that no, he wasn't a star, but the empty vacuum that surrounded it; illuminated by the strength of the blinding light, momentarily shining in the universe, cloaked in the bright façade of lies.
And he remembered, far too clearly for a night filled to the brim with emotions and alcohol.
He remembered how Yoongi had cupped his cheeks, lifting his face until their eyes met.
He remembered how he had murmured, slowly, so that he would catch every word;
A cascade of sweetness, a shower of praise.
Soft, gentle words that, one by one, shot like an arrow into the little pocket of insecurities he normally kept tucked inside, hidden away.
Until little salt drops of happiness soaked into the older boy's chest, as he tightened his arms around him, not stopping the onslaught of compliments, determined not to stop, not until they were accepted.
Until he fell asleep on Yoongi's shoulder, fully convinced by the other that he wasn't a star, nor the empty vacuum that was space,
but the entirety of the universe itself.
**
Jimin clapped his mouth, body shuddering in a barely repressed bout of laughter as he recalled the memories not forgotten, but completely overlooked.
He didn't understand it; he didn't understand how he had been so blind to it all this time—but that wasn't mattered. The lost days, the what-ifs and could-haves, they weren't what mattered.
He looked up, catching Yoongi's eyes just as words laced with yearning and desperation flowed out of the headpiece and into his ears – and he could see it now, could see it in his face clear as day, like the most obvious answer to a question that needn't even be asked;
None of it mattered, because he was in love with Yoongi, and Yoongi was in love with him.
**
He had started out with the full intent of waiting patiently as they did the multiple recordings; since it had taken him this long to recognize his own feelings, he could afford to be a little lenient with time.
But what he hadn't realized was that while time had rushed by in a blur on the days that he had been obliviously in love (in love! He giddily repeated in his mind) with his hyung, it was decidedly less sympathetic towards him once the moment of realization was over.
Two hours warped itself to feel like an entire day, and he was on the verge of breaking the connecting glass when the producer and the accompanying engineers stood up and clapped, calling it a day as they wiggled a bunch of switches, tweaking a bunch of settings that he frankly had no clue nor any interest about, not right now when Yoongi was walking towards him the door that connected the two rooms.
"Hyung! That was so cool! The part where you just sang just like that, that was so cool hyung. Right Jungkook? Did you hear him?!" he was immediately bombarded by a very excited Taehyung, while Jimin simply sat on his chair, impassively staring at the boy he was in love with (in love!) look befuddled as he tried to back away from the sudden attack.
"Uh, thanks Taehyung. What are—what are you guys all doing here?" He asked, looking a little nervous as he glanced at Jimin.
"Oh, Jimin here thought we should come offer our support!" Jungkook replied, smiling a little too sweetly, Jimin thought as he narrowed his eyes.
Two could play at that game.
He jumped up from his seat, strolling over to stand next to the younger boy as he made a little show out of looking at his watch.
"Hey, aren't you and Taehyung scheduled for a haircut in half an hour?" He asked, throwing a sweet smile to the maknae.
"What? No, it was scheduled fo—"
Jimin stepped on his foot.
"AAAaahh, y-yes, haircut. Scheduled. Must leave. Taehyungie, let's go!"
A very confused and reluctant Taehyung was quickly dragged out, the two of them leaving the room with a fading trail of "W-what? We have an appointment? But I don't want to cut my hair, I like how it tickles my cheeks! Kookie I.."
Greetings and salutations were murmured between them and the staff who slowly packed up before leaving as well. The gentle click of the door as it shut behind them was deafening in the quiet room, and finally, finally, the two of them were alone.
Jimin kept his eyes on Yoongi, who was determinedly avoiding meeting his.
"We don’t have any other schedules lined up for today, do we?" He asked nonchalantly, leaning down to grab his bag from where it was thrown to one corner of the room.
Jimin didn't reply, silently willing him to look his way.
"Y-you didn't really have to come, you know? The others mentioned that they'll be practicing for tomorrow..."
"Suga-hyung," he interjected, and Yoongi stiffened.
"We should head back," Yoongi quickly countered, swinging his bag across his shoulder, still avidly avoiding eye contact.
Jimin slowly walked up to the older boy and caught his hand, bringing him closer until they were face to face. "Suga-hyung, look at me," he spoke quietly, giving it a light squeeze.
Yoongi continued to mindlessly finger the strap of his bag as he continued to ramble, "Sungdeuk hyung will be waiting for—"
"You like me."
His head shot up, a flash of panic crossing his face that was quickly masked behind a shaky grin.
"First Taehyung and now you? Is this a maknae line—"
"Hyung," he interrupted, slowly lacing their fingers together. "You like me." He had meant for the words to sound assured, confident, but they came out wonderstruck, in awe. He held his breath as he waited for a response.
But the hand he held was being wrenched away now, and Yoongi was backing away, a horrified look on his face. He was shaking his head, stammering out a weak "I–I don't–" and turning his back, and Jimin had been so sure, so certain that he saw it and he still was, but Yoongi was walking away now, walking away from him, and he couldn’t understand why. Didn't he love him back? Didn't he know—
Oh.
"I love you, hyung."
**
Yoongi had one hand curled around the handle of the door when he heard the softly whispered words.
"I love you, hyung."
His hand froze on the cold metal, brain shutting down as it tried to make sense of what it had just heard.
He had misheard him. He had hallucinated the words where there had been none. He was dreaming again, this was just another one of the hundreds of dreams that regularly haunted his days and nights, that left him aching when he opened his eyes and wishing he could live in his dreams.
This was a cruel joke, albeit uncharacteristic of the younger boy because he was always so kind, so kind that it broke him sometimes. A bet, a dare, another one of the bangtan prank bombs that would be uploaded to their website later tonight.
It was meant in a purely platonic manner; perhaps a little strangely worded but the meaning behind the words went no further than the admiration of a dear friend.
Yes, that made sense.
It doesn't mean anything, Yoongi, he thought to himself as he tightened his grip around the handle, determined to leave, to put as much distance between him and the boy as he could before drowning himself in cheap beers and bottles of soju until he couldn't feel the weight of the words like a vice grip around his throat.
"Say it again." He found himself saying instead.
"I love you, hyung."
This wasn't real. This couldn't be real.
He let his hand fall to one side, and slowly turned around.
It was ridiculous how beautiful Park Jimin could be while he was simply standing, doing nothing except breathing in and out, stealing all of the oxygen in the room without even lifting a hand, leaving Yoongi's lungs a respiratory disaster.
"Again," he croaked out.
"I'm in love with you, hyung."
And it was ridiculous how something as simple as a smile could make him feel so much; could so easily knock down every last line of defense and run straight into the heart of a part of himself that he hadn't even known existed before it was already conquered, secured and won.
"Again," he pleaded, because he had to make sure, had to know—
"I love you, hyung. I'm in love with you. I love you so–"
And it was ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous how soft Park Jimin's lips were against his, how perfectly they fit against his as he slotted them together, again, and again, and again, because this was Park Jimin, his Jiminie, and he loved him back.
"Again," he whispered against Jimin's lips, reluctant to part. Felt the smile pressed against his as hands danced up his back and cupped his cheeks.
"I love you."
Absurd, because the boy he had been desperately in love with for so many years was right here, in his arms, kissing him back with just as much desperation as he felt, and no number of dreams and guiltily thought out fantasies could have prepared him for how Jimin looked, hair mussed, cheeks flushed, his lips swollen red and glistening from kisses.
"Again."
"I love you." Yoongi swallowed the words, drinking them greedily as he tightened his hold on the younger boy, bringing him closer, closer, but still not close enough.
"Again, again," he rasped as he broke away, slightly high on the feeling, reveling in the little whine as Jimin chased after his lips.
"I love you, Suga-hyung. I love you, I love you, I love you."
A half dozen kisses, gently pressed along full cheeks, trailing higher, higher.
"My name, say my name, please– "
"I love you, Yoongi."
"God, I love you, Jiminie. I love you, I love you so, so much."
**
"They're WHAT?!"
Jungkook clutched his stomach, willing away the cramps as he struggled to stop laughing. Taehyung stood frozen at his side, eyes comically wide as the words finally sank in.
Ah, Jin-hyung was going to kill him for doing this without him.
"When did this happen??!" Taehyung shrieked, and Jungkook gasped for air as he lifted his head.
"Ah t-tae, what did you think was going on when Yoongi-hyung tried to freestyle and instead rapped out an entire song about how pretty Jimin-hyung was when all of you got hammered for New Years?"
"BUT CHIMCHIM IS VERY PRETTY! Even I memorized the song! Jim-jim-jiminie, your eyes, they're so bright, they're sort of killin' me–"
"Tae, please, not in public,"
"THE WAY YOU MOVE IS SO FINE, STOP, IT'S RUINING ME, IM DYIN'–"
"TAEHYUNG, PLEASE."