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Yoongi was colder than he should have been, by all rights, bundled up in Seokjins big oversized black sweater (the one he’d bought for all of ten dollars from a thrift store when they’d gone to L.A back in ’09). Then again, it was 2:37 AM, according to the (very sus) clock hanging by a literal thread on the stained walls of the dinghy ass diner he’d decided to drag his ass into for Lord knows what reason.

Actually. Incorrect.

Yoongi knew what reason.

Park Jimin. P A R K J I M I N.

Park Jimin with his tiny ass mothafuckin’ hands that should by no means be able to hold those huge coffee mugs. Park Jimin with his twinkling eyes that became crescent shaped when he smiled and absolutely disappeared when he laughed, and how he laughed!

The Universe seemed to have run out of bad things to put into a human being, resulting in the absolute adorable dumpling of a human being called Park Jimin, and so help him, Yoongi could write an entire mixtape on Jimin’s squeaky laughter alone.

“You’re doing it again” Enter Jung Hoseok- Only Person Yoongi Shall Tolerate( Without Really Strong Coffee Made by One Park Jimin) No. 1.

“Doing what?”

“Drooling over Pretty Boy over there. Grow some and talk to him instead of.. whatever you’re doing right now. It’s gross and you should be ashamed.” (Yoongi mentally made a note to change Hoseok’s title to Person Yoongi Will Not Tolerate Even With Jimin’s Coffee. Damn him and his smug sunshine ass.)

“No. And I’m astounded you’d even suggest. Do you even know me?” And the question was valid, if you’d asked Yoongi. At the age of 23, he’d asked out all of 3 people. Suran didn’t count. She was a she, and that had ended with both of them having their gay awakening mid-losing virginity. The second person had been Hoseok himself, and that had been more of Namjoon and his awkward attempt at teaching Yoongi to flirt with the cute boy who’d moved into their neighbourhood during second year of high school. (Hobi had surprisingly agreed to his bumbling attempts at asking him out on a date, but when they’d bro-zoned each other on their third date, they’d realised that this ain’t it) The last person Yoongi had asked out had been… Tae. And that’s an episode better left forgotten.

So here we are. Min Yoongi. Age 23. Profession: Music Producer earning Moderate to High Income with BigHit Ent. Easily eligible bachelor. Guys should be falling at his feet. Alas, only thing close to a male falling at his feet was Jeongguk when he wanted to sit in on a recording. How the mighty had fallen. (Here, Namjoon would quip that for the mighty to fall, there should have been a time when Yoongi was, in fact, Mighty. Which was laughable in itself, considering we’re talking about boys here)

“Ask.Him.Out.” He could see Hoseoks eyebrows scrunch. Uh oh, He was serious. Time to sco-oot!

“Would you look at the time Hobi?I forgot I had to meet PDogg and Bang PD-Nim hah hah hah I have to go now catch you later I’ll text you the time and details bye~”

Yoongi was nothing if not a pro at the Avoiding-Conversations-Business. Park Jimin and his pretty eyes could wait. Then again. Life had different plans for him, as it always does. Just as he gets up to leave from the corner booth of the diner, slapping an extra bill as tip ( Jimin’s smiles deserved the BEST TIPS OKAY?!), Min Yoongi somehow managed to run into the one episode of his life he does not ever talk about. Period. Sigh. He spilled his coffee on the dude’s expensive ass Gucci sweatshirt too. How does he know its Gucci? He was there when Tae bought it, that’s why. Fml. Really. Yoongi really shold have invested in better karma or chi or whatever feng shiu crap that Seokjin was sprouting last week at brunch instead of brushing him off in favour of cooing over how cute Holly ( his little baby pupper) had looked. This really was karma coming for him. He was sure of it. 100%. No take-backs sir-no-sir. Tw years and a gazillion awkward attempts at avoiding him (and nearly succeeding) later, here he was, Kim Taehyung, as motherfucking gorgeous as ever. 


And God Fucking Damnit. The Universe must really hate him. 

Because Park Jimin just crashed into Tae like he was his life support. ( Yoongi's emo brain, the one he fondly calls Kookie Brain helpfully says that it reminds him of how he used to hug Tae after a long day. Or vice versa. And damn. Home boy is fast going choo choo to emo land) 


"Tae...hyung" Damn damn damn. Even his name sounded weird in his mouth after not saying it out loud for two years. Yoongi apologised to every Feng Shui god he knew that he'd offended by not listening to Seokjins spiel. Fuck. He had blond hair. And holyfuckingshit. He has a lip ring now. 

nope. nopenopenopenope. 


Jung Hoseok however, redeemed himself aptly. 

"Hey Taehyung. Its been a while. Last I heard you were in Paris? With Bogum, right?" Bogum? Paris? What was he doing in Paris with Bogum? Why was Hobi standing there asking him awkward questions? WHY DID TAEHYUNG HAVE A LIP RING? Yoongi was going into shock he was positive. In between checking his pulse, and fumbling arounf in his pocket for his phone, Hoseok and Taehyung completed their mandatory small talk. All he heard was ".....BLONDE.....GOOD.....DANCER....." A good blonde dancer? Uh huh. Yoongi was going into shcok. One Hundred Percent sure. 

" Hobi. Im.Shock. Hospital. Go?" 

Turns out, his karma didn't hate him completely, because nobody except Hoseok heard any of his mumbling. Except maybe Jimin who'd been eyeing him weirdly since he'd spilled milkshake onto Tae's sweater and proceeded to stand there and blink owlishly at him for thirty seconds straight. 


Hobi managed to get Yoongi inside his car and trie calming him down. It wasn't the easiest task, especially when he'd just faced the biggest shock of his lifetime. 

"Shhh. Its okay hyung. The car is soundproof. You can shout all you want. Nobody can hear you. Go ahead. It'll help you."


Inside the diner, Jimin felt like he vaguely heard someone scream 'but he has a lipring' but surely he was imagining. I mean, why would anyone?