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Blue Neighbourhood

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June 8th, 2023, PRESENT


“Min, is it true you will be directing the movie Heaven?” 


Yoongi cocks his head to the side, eyes searching for the female voice that asked the question. “Well, yes, it's true,” he replies, still not sure which one of them had inquired about it. “My team and I are still getting in the loop about the project, but since it’s coming from Kim Namjoon, I’m not worried.”


“You accepted the request without knowing what is it about?” A man asked, almost as if judging him. 


“I did,” he says slowly, an eyebrow raised. “Kim Namjoon and I happen to be college friends, and I’m absolutely confident in his work ethic and brilliant mind. He briefed me about the movie and asked me if I wanted to film it. I said yes.”


“Kim Namjoon released a statement saying every single person involved in the project is a homosexual, but you have never explicitly came out as such, is this your way of doing so?” 


Yoongi’s clenches his jaw. Oh, how badly he hates heterosexual people.


He blinks slowly at the man who dared to ask such a question and offers him a cold smile. “I believe Namjoon’s exact words were that everyone involved with the project identifies themselves as part of the LGBTQ+ community,” he offers, voice low. “It is unsurprising, however, that you don’t respect his words enough to quote them as they were spoken. You should watch the movie when it comes out, it will teach you a lot.”


The director scatters the crowd of reporters for another moment before sighing. He looks to the side searching for Jooheon and a heartbeat later his best friend is stepping forward. “That’s all the questions Mr. Min will be taking today, thank you very much.”


Yoongi smiles stiffly at the people in front of him with their microphones, cameras and stupid notebooks and turns around, disappearing into the darker backstage. 


“I need a beer,” he says, which makes Jooheon laugh. “I’m serious. What’s wrong with people these days?” 


These days ?” Jooheon repeats in a mockery tone, hand going through his red hair. “People have always been shitty.” 


“Fair point.” Yoongi fishes his phone from the back pocket of his trousers and decides to send Namjoon a quick text to warn him of what happened before he sees it all over social media. 


The reply coming in two minutes later makes Yoongi smile.

Kim Namjoon sent you a message

lol people are gay steven 

but we’ll sit with the cast next week, hyung!!! 

thank you again and don’t worry about those people… 

You sent a message

Looking forward to it ;) 

“I’m sorry, did you say Park Jimin?” Yoongi asks slowly, trying to hide his surprise and failing miserably. 


Namjoon takes a sip of his iced tea and nods, smile on his face. “I was so glad when he contacted me and asked to be a part of it,” he says.


“But I thought everyone involved in the project was LGBTQ,” Yoongi counters and even as the words come out of his mouth he knows how utterly stupid he sounds. 


Because yes , everyone involved in the project is LGBTQ, so that means that yes , Park Jimin is part of this community. 


Which Yoongi’s brain is currently unable to process. 


“Why are you short-circuiting?” Namjoon asks with a light chuckle. “I mean, I also didn’t know he was gay and that’s how he identified himself to me, but I’m a little worried about the expression on your face.”


Yoongi doesn’t reply right way.


Here’s a little unknown fact: although up until now director Min Yoongi and actor Park Jimin have never crossed paths in the film industry, they are very much familiar with each other. Or at least they were. 


Being two years his senior, Yoongi was the first person to introduce Jimin to the 7th Art when they were two little boys full of dreams. They grew up next to each other sharing a passion for film, but with slightly different goals for the future. They used to hang out everyday; whether it’d be in Yoongi’s bedroom or Jimin’s backyard, always having lunch or dinner in each other’s homes, fighting over videogames and introducing to the other all of their favorite songs.


Jimin was also Yoongi’s first love and the first person he came out to. 


“I know him,” Yoongi mumbles, eyes on his coffee. “We grew up together.” 


“What the fuck,” Namjoon replies. “How didn’t I know this?” 


Yoongi swallows around a lump in his throat. “Because I don’t talk about him or that part of my life.” He glances up at his friend. “Jimin didn’t make me feel welcomed when I came out to him.” 




“He wasn’t explictly homophobic or anything,” Yoongi’s quick to clarify. “But he wasn’t welcoming. He became distant, even after he said everything was fine. I thought it was because I was gay that he was acting so weird and since I left for college about three months after my coming out to him, we just stopped talking altogether.” 


Namjoon hums, taking in his words. “Maybe he was just afraid of what having such a close gay friend meant to him. He probably wasn’t ready to come out.” 


Yoongi licks his lips and brings his coffee mug closer. “Yeah, I see that now, but I spent years thinking differently, so this is a bit weird to me.”


“I can only imagine.” Namjoon pats his knee and then takes another sip of his tea. “Maybe you should give him a call before we all sit to read the script? Since you have personal history.” 


“Yeah, maybe.” His reply comes off really unsure and if Namjoon notices, he doesn’t comment on it. Yoongi’s glad. Talking to Park Jimin again isn’t something he ever planned on doing, even if they are both part of the same industry and could eventually come to cross paths. He takes a deep breath. “Can you give me his number?”

He’s been staring at the saved contact for what feels like forever.


Namjoon gave him Park Jimin’s number soon after they wrapped up their coffee meeting and now Yoongi’s sitting at the backseat of a car going back to his apartment, with his phone in hand, staring at the number. 


Yoongi takes a deep breath, heart racing against his ribs, lump on his throat, and as the cold air comes down his throat, he dials it. Pressing the phone to his ear, Yoongi tries really hard to stay calm. It rings four times before the line is picked up.


“Park Jimin speaking,” he mumbles, a little breathless and Yoongi can’t help but wonder what is Jimin doing at 9am. “Who is this?”


He hates that he froze like a deer caught in the headlights because Yoongi has always proud himself on how quickly he reacts to things. “I, uh,” he starts, not wanting Jimin to hang up. “This is Min Yoongi.”


There’s a loud noise coming from the other end and then Jimin curses a muffled fuck before a little fumbling and a large exhale. “Yes, hi,” he says, as breathless as before, but maybe now a bit cautious too. “How are you?”


“I’m okay,” Yoongi replies slowly, frowning. The driver turns around a corner and stops abruptly because of traffic. Why is there traffic as this hour? , he thinks, but it doesn’t matter; Yoongi needs to focus. “I’m calling because we’ll be working together and I, uh, well, we didn’t exactly stop speaking on the best of terms.”


Jimin doesn’t respond right away and Yoongi tries to picture him, but he can’t. 


“I guess we have me to blame for that.” Jimin’s voice sounds so apologetic that it annoys Yoongi more than it relieves him to hear the admission of guilt. “Are you free? We could grab lunch and talk.”


Yoongi licks his lips, hand tightening around the phone. “Talk?” He repeats. “I don’t want to talk, Jimin, I just want to make sure we are good to work together. I’ll be directing you in a very personal feature film and we don’t need to be sidetracked by personal history.”


“Oh,” Jimin mutters. “In that case, yes, we are good, Yoongi-hyung.”


Don’t call me that is at the tip of his tongue, but he swallows back. “See you Monday, Jimin.”


He knows it’s rude to finish the call like that without even waiting for a reply, but this has already been harder than Yoongi had anticipated. His hands are shaking when he locks his phone, flashbacks from eight years before when he told Jimin he liked boys filling his mind.


You like boys, ” Jimin had repeated, cheeks turning pink. “ So you’re gay .”


I am ,” Yoongi confirmed, eyes on his friend, fishing his every reaction. 


Cool .” 


‘Cool’. That’s what Jimin said before changing the subject completely and becoming antsy for the rest of their dinner. ‘Cool’ was the only thing Jimin ever said about Yoongi’s sexuality, but he knew it wasn’t ‘cool’. It wasn’t ‘cool’ because after that Jimin began to avoid him at every cost, making up excuses as to why he couldn’t hang out, cancelling plans at the last minute, ignoring his texts. 


And now…


“Mr. Min, do you want me to park inside?” 


Yoongi blinks, the voice of his driver making him come back to reality. He checks outside only to confirm they are indeed already on his building’s street. “No, Seokmin-ssi, thank you.”


The driver nods and stops close enough to the sidewalk so Yoongi can get out. Still a little dizzy, the director grabs his backpack, puts his phone in his back pocket and leaves, Park Jimin the only thing in his mind for the rest of the day.


October 13th, 2005


“Yoongi-yah, why are you still here?” His mother rails, browns frowned. “You’re going to miss your bus!”


Yoongi takes a deep breath and rolls his eyes, putting his iPod inside the backpack and sliding off the chair. “I’m going,” he mumbles, eyeing his half-eaten breakfast with sulky eyes and walking out of the house. 


The boy braces himself for the cold air once his feet hit the pavement, still not used to walking to the bus stop alone, but very much glad his parents are giving him some sort of independence. He’s 12, after all, he should be allowed to do things alone. 


As he starts to make his walk down the street, Yoongi’s attention shifts to the house next to his, where a little boy sits on the stairs, pouting. He’s not wearing a coat, and Yoongi can’t help but wonder if he’s not cold. “You’re gonna freeze to death,” he exclaims loud enough for the boy to hear him. 


The boy lifts his head and glares at him. “Hopefully.”


Yoongi chuckles, surprised at the response. “Why do you wanna freeze to death?”


“You know what day it is?” The boy asks.


“Monday?” Yoongi suggests.


The boy sighs. “Yes, but it’s the 13th of October,” he exclaims, then pauses. “It’s my birthday.”


“Oh,” Yoongi replies, taking a few steps forward. “Happy birthday.”


“Thanks,” it’s what the boy replies, looking mildly annoyed. “My parents forgot,” he explains. “And have been fighting since 6am.” 


Yoongi pouts a bit. “I’m sorry about that. How old you are today?” 




“I’m 12, but will be turning 13 in a few months,” Yoongi tells him. “So I’m your hyung.” 


The boy scoffs. “I don’t even know your name, hyung .” 


“I’m Yoongi,” he says, smiling. “I live next door.” 


“I’m Jimin, I live here.” He points to the house behind him. “Nice to meet you.” 


“You too.” Yoongi looks around. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for school?” 


Jimin frowns as if he’s confused. “It’s my birthday,” he replies and Yoongi chuckles. “No one goes to school on their birthday.” 


“I guess that makes sense,” Yoongi agrees. “Well, it’s not my birthday, so I have to go. See you later.”


Jimin smiles sadly and waves goodbye to him as he starts walking again. 



“Thank you all for coming in today,” Namjoon says, a bright smile on his face as he observes the cast and crew. “I must confess that I'm a little nervous about finally showing everyone the script, and I honestly adore you all for agreeing to do this without even reading it.”


“We have faith in your talent, hyung,” Jungkook replies, making the entire room agree with hums and shouts of “yeah”. 


Namjoon bows slightly before taking his seat. “Alright, let’s read Heaven.”


Yoongi brings his script closer, a smile spreading across his face upon reading his own name below the “directed by” line. He’s sitting to Namjoon’s right, while Jimin’s sitting to Namjoon’s left. Yoongi wasn’t surprised when the man didn’t approach him at all when he arrived, even if he said hi to everyone else he knew. If he’s honest, he rather likes it. The more distance Yoongi puts between them, the better for his health. 


The script is amazing, but of course that’s expected coming from Namjoon. Yoongi’s not quite sure of how much of it was based on the man’s actual life experience, but it feels so fuzzy and warm inside him to read such a celebration of different people and a love letter to love itself.


“This is so you, man,” he says with a chuckle after the applause had subsided and everyone is making small talk. “Even if it has a happy ending.”


Namjoon’s mouth hangs open. “What’s that supposed to mean?”


“You’re not big on happy endings, buddy,” Yoongi replies with a shrug. Namjoon’s about to argue, but Yoongi’s quicker. “Name one of your stories that has a happy ending.”


Namjoon narrows his eyes and doesn’t say anything.


“Exactly.” Yoongi knows he’s not upset about it, so after blowing Namjoon a kiss, he stands up and walks towards Jung Hoseok. 


“Look who it is,” Hoseok says with a click of his tongue, champagne glass on his hand still completely full. Next to him, a very shy Jeon Jungkook tries not to make eye contact with Yoongi. “Director Min Yoongi, what an honour to have you on our set.” 


“Shut up,” Yoongi groans, a grin forming on his lips. “Will you drink that?” He points to the glass and Hoseok shakes his head, handing it over to him. “Thank you.” 


Yoongi downs the entire thing in one go and that makes Jungkook’s eyes go wide, but Hoseok simply raises an eyebrow. “Tough morning?” 


“You can say that,” Yoongi replies, his eyes going over the crowd and stopping as he finds Jimin talking with Kim Taehyung. He looks so pretty, much prettier than he was before. Hair blonde, lips plumper, jaw more aligned. “So glad to work with you again, though,” he comments, eyes going back to Hoseok. “Did it take a lot for Namjoon to convince you to go back on a set with him? 


Hoseok chuckles, but Jungkok frowns. “Why?” He asks. “Why would you need convincing, hyung?” 


“When we were in college Hoseok and Namjoon produced a short film together and all they did was fight,” Yoongi exclaims, noticing how hard the boy blushes once his eyes set on him. “They couldn’t agree on one single thing, it was madness, especially for me who shared an apartment with them.” 


Hoseok shrugs. “We fucked it out.” 


Jungkook chokes on nothing, blush turning even pinker and Yoongi chuckles. “You did. It was quite a shock to me, if I can be honest.” 


“You and hyung had sex?” Jungkook whispers, eyes blown wide, pink lips forming a small ‘O’ while his black long hair falls all around his face. 


“Don’t worry, Jungkook-ah,” Hoseok says sweetly, a hand coming to rest on the younger man’s shoulder. “That was a lifetime ago, he’s all yours now.” 


Yoongi looks between them. “I didn’t know Namjoon was dating,” he says, smiling. 


Jungkook’s blush turns impossibly pinker and he groans into his hands, shrugging Hoseok’s hand away, which only makes the producer giggle harder. “You’re an idiot, hyung, stop saying shit like that to everyone ,” he whines, then turns his eyes to Yoongi. “No offense, Yoongi-ssi.” 


“None taken,” Yoongi assures him, and he thinks he gets it. He searches for Namjoon and finds the man talking with the other lead in the movie, Kim Seokjin. “He’s cute, Jungkook, you should go for it.” 


“That’s what I keep telling him and–,” Hoseok agrees, but the daggers in Jungkook’s eyes make him stop whatever he was going to say next. 


“You’re playing Changkyun in the movie, right?” He asks Jungkook, who simply nods. “That’s a hard role, but I know you can handle it,” Yoongi assures him. “Loved Euphoria.”


Jungkook’s face lights up in a smile that makes him look a little like a bunny and Yoongi feels himself mirror the younger man’s smile. He just knows he will warm up to this kid easily. 


As the hours pass, the reading becomes a full on party, with Hoseok leaving with Taehyung and a guy named Minho to buy more alcohol and Namjoon ordering a shit load of food. Yoongi has never been on a set where everyone is drinking, eating and dancing on the first day of work. It’s fun, he thinks, to be partying months before the wrap. 


He makes his way through the crowd with a beer can in his hand, trying his hardest to get the names of everyone he will be working with. It’s a different environment than the other movies he had worked on; he feels welcomed and he knows everyone else feels the same. It’s a good thing what they’re doing. 


Yoongi’s laughing away with his newest friend, Park Jihyo, when Jimin glances over at him from the other side of the room and he freezes. He knows that if he wasn’t so aware of Jimin’s position to begin with he wouldn’t even have noticed the stare, but Yoongi tells himself he was just checking him to see they are keeping a safe distance. And they were, until Jimin decides to start walking over to where Yoongi stands.


The director tries not to show how he is affected by Jimin once he arrives there, kissing Jihyo’s face and asking if he can have a moment with Yoongi. She smiles sweetly and nods, saying goodbye to both of them with a half bow. 


“I know you don’t wanna talk to me,” Jimin begins once she’s far enough away, but Yoongi’s quick to interrupt.


“Then why are you here?”


Jimin blinks at him and Yoongi notices they are still the same height. This close, Jimin’s much more beautiful than he is on the screen or from the other side of the room. It’s almost unfair, he thinks, that Jimin looks so good even when he’s clearly drunk. 


“Holding a grudge against me is bad for both of us,” Jimin mutters, pout forming on his lips. “At least let me explain why I acted the way I did.”


“I think I can guess,” Yoongi replies, taking a large sip from his beer can. “Told you I was gay when you weren’t ready to face your own sexuality and that lead you to pushing your oldest friend away and making him assume for ten years that you hated him just because he liked men.”


Jimin opens his mouth several times to rebut, but he’s obviously at a loss for words. Blonde hair styled back, cheeks pink (from embarrassment or alcohol, Yoongi doesn’t know) and eyeshadow on, so different from the black haired, round face teen Yoongi used to know.


“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he finally says and Yoongi can feel his sincerity piercing through his skin and lodging itself into his heart. “I was terrified of the things I felt, the things I thought.” Jimin licks his lips, shakes his head. “My dad, I knew he would never accept me. So I shoved it so deep inside that I was sure it was never going to get out, and then you came out to me and I freaked.”


Yoongi nods, trying to understand what he’s feeling right now, alcohol buzzing in his veins. “I get it, Jimin, but what about after?” Jimin frowns as if he doesn’t understand the question, so Yoongi continues. “It looks like you’ve made peace with your sexuality. Why did you never contact me?”


“It’s complicated, hyung.”


Don’t call me that.


“That’s the worst response you could’ve given me, I hope you’re aware of that,” Yoongi spits louder than he intended and a few people around them turn to look. He sighs, drinking the rest of the beer and tossing it in the trash. “I meant it when I said I didn’t want to talk.” 


“But we’re going to work together for months,” Jimin argues, hard lines on his forehead indicating how stressed he feels. “You called me to ask me if we’re good, I said we were, but are we? You can’t even look at me.”


“I’m looking at you right now.” Yoongi’s eyes are settled on Jimin’s face, his breath coming out a little exasperated. He doesn’t feel good. 


Jimin shakes his head. “But you’re not really looking.”


The words hit him like a cold wind on a winter night. Yoongi blinks several times, eyes travelling through all of Jimin’s face before settling somewhere behind him. Suddenly Yoongi’s so small, back in his childhood bed, staring at the ceiling, Jimin’s face on his mind, guilt in his heart.


“What do you want from me?” He asks, but he’s not sure who he’s talking to, Jimin or himself. It comes out in a whispered whimper and even though he’s not looking directly at him, he can see Jimin shake. “Please, let’s just do the movie, we don’t have to resolve anything, we were perfectly okay all of these radio silent years.”


His eyes settle back on Jimin once he hears a “okay” coming out of his mouth. The actor runs a hand over his hair and chews on his bottom lip, facing the floor as he doesn’t know what else to do. Yoongi thinks this moment has extended itself for long enough. He puts a hand on Jimin’s shoulder and squeezes it, which takes the younger man by surprise. Jimin releases the bottom lip from his teeth hold and stares at his childhood friend, eyes blown wide even if a little hazy because of the effect of the alcohol.


Yoongi thinks of something smart to say, wondering if he could grab a page from Namjoon’s ethics book and give both of them advice so they can go through shooting months without any awkward or potentially heated encounters, but he’s at a loss of words. 


So he just presses his lips in a thin line and sighs, pulling his hand back and walking away. As he goes to grab another beer can, Yoongi doesn’t miss the way Jimin’s eyes follow his every movement. 

Shooting starts the week after that initial party and its first month goes by smoothly. Yoongi feels very good about all of it, and Jimin’s constant presence doesn’t even bother him that much. 


But because everyone’s doing the movie for free, their schedules aren’t completely tightened to the project, so Yoongi and the rest of the crew work with what they can get. Namjoon and Hoseok have done impressive work by organizing the shootings according to the actors availability, and every time a setback happens, Park Jihyo and Jung Wheein come to the rescue. Honestly, Yoongi doesn’t know where he’d be as a director without these four people.


And because it’s a contemplative story about love, loss and life, there’s not any action sequences that would require a big budget and a lot of energy, which makes the process much easier not only for Yoongi, but the entire cast and crew. They have settled for 58 days of shooting in total, with some gap days and some with almost no scenes to shoot at all. Yoongi had decided to dedicate himself completely to this, postponing his next film until the month of January — which his agent didn’t like so much, but didn’t argue against. 


“Jimin-ssi, can we try that again with you standing next to the bed?” Yoongi asks, eyes on the monitor. 


“Of course,” Jimin replies, going to position and closing his eyes so Nayeon can fix his makeup for the reshooting. 


That’s how their interactions go. Professional, to the point and quick. And that helps, truly, because this way Yoongi can look at him like an actor he’s working alongside of, not his childhood best friend. 


Sometimes, while in a scene, Jimin would burst into a fit of giggles, putting his hand on his mouth and throwing his body forward or sideways, and Yoongi would take a deep breath because the action reminds him of far away memories. But apart from that, it’s been alright. 


It’s a particularly cold night in June when he sits down next to Namjoon and they go through the footage they already have. It’s a lot, of course, so they drink several mugs of coffee and then get up to make some more. 


At first, Yoongi didn’t agree when Namjoon showed interest in editing the movie himself, but now as he watches his friend work and give input, Yoongi thinks it’s a good decision. It’s his story, after all. And someone else will come in later once all the shooting has been done. 


They’re watching Yoongi’s favorite scene to shoot thus far. Jimin character’s sitting on his bathroom floor after throwing up, tears clinging to his face, and Taehyung’s character’s kneeling next to him, listening carefully as he pours his heart out in the form of written poetry. 


I thought that openly displaying my sexuality would grant me freedom, but it hasn’t,” Jimin says on the screen. “ I’m trapped, Seok, and so, so lost.


Yoongi looks over at Namjoon and presses pause. “What?” Namjoon asks, frowning. 


“When I first read the screenplay, I was a bit confused as to why Jihyun feels the way he does,” Yoongi says, eyes on the frozen version of Jimin’s character Jihyun. “He leaves home because his family doesn’t accept his sexuality and then he encounters all of these people that do, and he’s finally able to be who he’s meant to be and do what he wants, but he still feels stuck.” 


Namjoon hums and takes another sip of coffee. “I wanted to talk about the whole finding yourself quest that we go through,” he explains. “Is Jihyun being who he’s meant to be, like you put it? And what is the definition of being free ?”


“I think it varies,” Yoongi replies carefully.  


“Exactly,” Namjoon agrees with a click of his tongue. “To some queer people, being free equals wearing high heels and lipstick. To others, it means kissing their partner and introducing them to their parents. Others find freedom in hanging a pride flag on their bedroom wall,” he muses. “We are all different.” 


They look at the freeze frame.


“Jihyun got out of a homophobic and toxic environment and now, like he said, he can display his sexuality,” Namjoon continues. “But that doesn’t feel like freedom to him. He’s questioning himself for what’s missing.” 


“We never find out what’s missing, though,” Yoongi comments. 


“I don’t think I need to tell you why that is,” Namjoon says, eyes flickering towards his friend for only a second.


“Jihyun doesn’t find out, so we don’t as well,” Yoongi explains. “But he’s okay with not knowing, he’s finally okay with being lost.”


“I’d say he’s okay with not being found ,” Namjoon counters, smiling. “I talked to a lot of people to make this screenplay, and there’s a bit of all of them in this movie.” 


He presses play. 


People look at me and say I’m free ,” Jimin’s character continues. “ They say I won, but did I, Seok? Did I win? ” He fumbles on the screen. “ I feel like I’m trying too hard.  


Aren’t all of us , Yoongi thinks, but doesn’t say it out loud. 


I like kissing boys and I enjoy not being judged for it, but I don’t feel whole ,” Jimin, or better, Jihyun says. “ Why don’t I feel whole? Why don’t I feel like myself?


“And who are you?” Seok asks. 


Jimin’s lip trembles and he turns his eyes down. “I don’t know. I thought I did, but I don’t .”


They continue to watch the footage until Namjoon finds a take he’s satisfied with and then calls it a night, but before he can leave, Yoongi speaks again. “I like the message of this, Namjoon-ah,” he comments. “It’s okay to not be yet found.” 


“Yes, but not only that,” Namjoon replies, shrugging. “We should be able to feel okay not knowing where we’re going and also remember not to live our queerness as a reflection of others.”


Yoongi hums softly, a lot of thoughts running through his mind. “This makes sense considering that in the end Jihyun has a whole speech about how sometimes we fail our own,” he says, thinking about the script. “And that we have to do better.”


Namjoon nods. “While I was researching for Heaven I realized a lot of queer people felt trapped, unheard, ignored. There’s so much prejudice inside the very same community that should protect and embrace diversity.” He bites his lower lip, eyes somewhere distant. “Just thought it was something worth talking about.”


Yoongi stays silent, thinking about when he first heard about the community, he had a hard time grasping some things, like gender non-confirming people. He remembers thinking “you’re gay or you’re straight” at first, and then learning about bisexuality, and then transgenderism. And from that moment on, new terms kept coming and Yoongi felt a bit lost. 


Now, reflecting about the past, he fears maybe he made someone feel excluded while going on his very ignorant rants. It’s an unsettling realization.


“You should change the name of the movie to Color Me Free,” Yoongi suggests after a few minutes of comfortable silence.


“Actually, that’s not a bad idea.” 


Yoongi whines. “It kinda is.” 


“No, it’s not.” Namjoon stands up, face lighting up. “Think about a white canvas waiting for you to throw paint on. If we all stood side by side with our own white canvas and the same colors to paint it with, it’s very unlikely it would have the same results,” he murmurs. “We all would color it differently. We are all colored differently.” 


“I hate that you can say something beautiful like this out of thin air, fuck you.” 


Namjoon smiles sweetly at him and he doesn’t have to say anything for Yoongi to know what he means; thank you, hyung.

June 26th, 2008


“Why can’t I come with you?” Jimin whines, pulling at Yoongi’s t-shirt. 


Yoongi holds his best friend’s wrists and looks him in the eye. “You’re too young.” 


Jimin gasps so loud that everyone inside the house probably heard it. “ I’m not, ” he groans. “I’m only 2 and a half years younger than you, that’s not much!” 


“That’s enough,” Yoongi says firmly, pulling the tiny hands out of his shirt. “You’re 12, I’m 15. I’m going to a teen’s party, you’re a child.” 


“You’re such an ass!” Jimin pushes him on the shoulder and promptly sits on Yoongi’s bed, arms crossed. “I’m not a child.” 


Yoongi takes a look at himself in the mirror, wondering if his blue shirt is appropriate for the party. “Yes, you are,” he replies, mostly to mess with him than anything else. 


“I want to go to a party with you, hyung,” Jimin pouts harder. 


“When you’re 15, I’ll take you.” 


“But then you’re going to be 17 and then 18, and you won’t care about me anymore.” 


Yoongi turns to look at him. “How dare you, Park Jimin?” He screeches, faking his offense. Jimin rolls his eyes, a small smile on his lips. “I will always care about you,” Yoongi assures him, serious this time. 


“Even after you graduate and need to go to college?” Jimin sounds doubtful. 


Yoongi reaches out and cups his cheek. “Always.” 


The younger boy leans into his touch and Yoongi’s heart does the thing it does when he’s with Jimin. 


“I believe you, hyung,” Jimin whispers, hand coming to rest on top of his. 


Yoongi smiles and pulls his hand away, looking at his own figure in the mirror again. “I need to decide which shirt to where,” he whines. “Jaegyu-hyung will be here any minute now.”


“Jaegyu?” Jimin exclaims, voice tone showing surprise. “Why are you hanging out with that f-?”


“Jimin,”  Yoongi exclaims before he can say it. A whole body shiver hits Yoongi at the idea of hearing that word, coldness running through his veins. He stares at his own reflection and suddenly it feels impossible to breathe. “That's not something you can say.” 


“I-,” Jimin mumbles, but the words die down on his throat. Yoongi turns to look at him, then, and Jimin’s blushing hard, hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. 


“Jimin-ah, you can’t say that word,” Yoongi brands, eyebrows furrowed. “You’re not that type of person.”


Jimin licks his lips, chubby cheeks getting even pinker. “What kind of person is that?”


“The kind of person who hurts other people’s feelings on purpose,” Yoongi mutters firmly, coming back near his best friend. He reaches out and touches Jimin’s chin, forcing the kid to look at him in the eye. It’s obvious Jimin doesn’t want to, pupils focusing on anything but Yoongi’s own, but he doesn’t pull his face away. “Promise me you won’t say that word ever again.”


The boy licks his lips and pouts, eyes watering. Yoongi knows how much Jimin hates being told off by him, but he won’t back away from this. He shouldn’t say that word, it’s a bad word. 


“Jimin,” Yoongi insists when his best friend doesn’t reply.


“Fine,” Jimin grumbles, finally pulling his chin out of Yoongi’s hold. “I won’t say it, I’m sorry, it’s just everyone in my class says it.”


Yoongi shakes his head. “And? Are you a fucking idiot or something?” He knows he shouldn’t talk to Jimin like this, especially in such a tone, but it hurts , the whole situation hurts and not knowing why makes Yoongi feel like he’s drowning. His words hit Jimin hard, the boy’s wide eyes focusing on Yoongi as soon as the swear leaves his lips. “Don’t do shit like this just because everyone else does it, Jimin, that’s not how life is supposed to go.”


Jimin just stares, the first tear falling down his cheek, but he doesn’t wipe it away. 


“Understand that words have meaning and using that one you used hurts people,” Yoongi breathes out, so harshly he starts to wonder if anyone else in the house can hear them. 


It takes Jimin a long pause, but he finally replies. “I’m sorry, hyung,” he whispers. “I won’t say that again.”


“Promise?” Yoongi asks, so extremely hopeful the boy means it.


Jimin nods. “Promise.” 



Namjoon ends up changing the movie name and adding an extra scene. 


Yoongi’s not even surprised when he’s told they’ll be shooting a scene between Seokjin and Jimin where Seokjin’s character takes Jimin’s character to splatter paint on white canvases. 


“You really liked this metaphor, didn’t you?” He asks Namjoon as they watch the crew set up the set. 


“Thought it was a nice non-explicit way of explaining my intentions,” Namjoon replies, adjusting his sunglasses. “Removed the previous dialogue they’d have about being different. This feels much more poetic.” 


Yoongi would be lying if he said he didn’t agree.


The crew is almost done with the scenario when Jimin comes in, flannel white shirt and red sneakers on, fully into character. He glances over at where Namjoon stands next to Yoongi and his lips form a thin line as he walks towards Seokjin.


Yoongi thinks he probably wanted to talk to Namjoon, but decided against it since he was there. He doesn’t know why that makes his heart tight in his chest, but it’s probably not a good sign. 


“Okay, everyone,” he shouts to the crew and cast a few minutes later, deciding that ignoring his own thoughts is probably the best course of action. “Our dear screenwriter decided to turn this into a festival of nuances, so let’s shoot this thing.” 


“You don’t have to be an asshole ,” Namjoon spits, and everyone on the set laughs, him and Yoongi included. “I just want everybody here to know that this scene only came to me because he suggested I changed the movie name.” 


“And it was a damn good suggestion,” Yoongi clicks his tongue and receives a few claps and shoutouts from the crew. Namjoon squints his eyes at him for the obvious change of heart of how he feels about the name, and Yoongi winks at his friend before turning to the crew.  “Okay, guys, everyone in position, please!” 


Jimin and Seokjin get their final makeup touches and then they start. It’s a messy scene, a lot of paint involved, so any error would cause them a lot of wasted time, but Yoongi’s dealing with professionals. Both actors are masters in what they do, and that transpires through the screen. 


Even though it might have sounded a little silly at first, the scene comes out powerful, breathtaking and very empowering. Yoongi can feel it all around the room and when he finally yells “cut!” everyone bursts into shouts and applause. 


Jimin and Seokjin have smiles on their faces and paint in their hair, so ridiculously beautiful, both of them. 


“This was amazing,” Yoongi tells the actors as they come closer to check the scene out in the monitor. “You guys are fucking incredible, it’s mindblowing.” 


“Thank you,” Seokjin replies.


“Thank you, hyung,” Jimin mumbles slowly, eyes on the monitor. 


It’s the first time he calls Yoongi that ever since their conversation on the first day on the set. Maybe Jimin doesn’t even realize he did it, but that’s all Yoongi can think about while going back to his trailer. 


It probably shouldn’t affect him this much to hear the honorific coming out of Jimin’s mouth, and deep down, Yoongi knows his belated resentment against Jimin is indeed very prejudicial. 


But that’s not a box he’s willing to tick just yet.


Instead, Yoongi decides to take a very well deserved nap, curling in on himself on the small sofa inside his trailer. It’s always been one of his most defining characteristics; Yoongi can pretty much fall asleep anywhere, at any time. What doesn’t happen often is dreaming. When he was a kid, Yoongi used to dream all the time, but ever since he went to college, the dreams have become scarcer and scarcer, with him sometimes going entire semesters without one. 


This time, curled up on himself inside his trailer, Yoongi dreams of Jimin. 


Not this Jimin, older, braver, prettier, freer. The Jimin he used to know. They were in Yoongi’s childhood bedroom, laying on the floor surrounded by books. And Yoongi knows within the dream that it’s not a real memory because they never read on his bedroom floor. Especially not the book Jimin has in his hands. 


“What are you reading?” Dream Yoongi asks. 


Dream Jimin beams at him with a bright smile. “Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe,” he informs. “It’s about two boys who meet during the summer and that changes their lives forever.”


“Changes their lives how?” Dream Yoongi wonders, even if real Yoongi already knows, because he read that book in college.


“They fall in love,” Jimin replies simply, eyes travelling briefly over Yoongi’s features before going back to his book. 


The dream dissipates like smoke in the air and Yoongi sees himself inside nothing. It’s dark, and cold, and he wants to cry. He knows he’s not awake, he knows it’s not real, and he really wants to wake up, but he can’t. The darkness is pulling him in. He tries to scream, but no sound comes out, he tries to run, but no muscle moves. It’s terrifying. He’s going to die there, isn’t he?


Fuck, no , Yoongi groans to himself. Wake up, wake up, wake up .


“Wake up!” Yoongi shouts, sitting up straight. He blinks at the white lights of his trailer and heavies out a breath. It was a nightmare. He doesn’t have does. 


Yoongi closes his eyes and rubs his fingers over his eyelids, mouth dry. With wobbly legs, the man stands up and goes to the mini-fridge, downing an entire bottle of water in short seconds. It was such a weird nightmare, Yoongi reasons. The book and then the darkness. 


He remembers when Namjoon gifted him that book, promising a very introspective read and metaphorical language. Yoongi was excited for it, up until the point he realized what Aristotle and Dante meant to each other. It hit too close to home, but he finished the story anyway. A happy ending, he thought at the time, so different from my life. 


Yoongi’s not sure if that remains true. Sure, his first love was a series of very painful events, but he had a couple successful relationships, people he really cared for and natured close to his heart to this day, even if not the same way he used to when they were together. 


With a deep sigh, Yoongi decides that’s enough thinking about the past for one day and grabs his phone before walking out of the trailer, blinking at the sunlight before making his way down the street. There’s a spot near the edge of a lake that covers the movie set that Yoongi really likes because it’s quiet and at times windy. He makes his way there, ready to spend a very pleasant and, like Namjoon so very much loves to say, introspective moment alone, but as he reaches the place, Yoongi comes to the daunting realization that he wasn’t the only one who had that idea.


And from all the people who could’ve thought the same, of course it had to be Jimin.


He’s smoking, is the first thing Yoongi notices. Still in costume, the actor has a half smoked cigarette between two of his fingers, one leg in front of the other as he stares out into the lake. Jimin doesn’t seem to see him approaching, or maybe he doesn’t care to look back and acknowledge anyone else’s presence, so Yoongi doesn’t say anything, steps coming to a halt a few feet away from the other man.


Jimin takes a drag, holding the smoke in for a few seconds before blowing it out. Yoongi wonders if he’s a smoker, or if this is just something he does sometimes to take the edge off. He remembers Jimin’s father was a smoker, and an alcoholic, too. What has come of him? Jimin said he knew his father would never accept him, so he probably hasn’t. Does Jimin still talk to his mom? Yoongi hopes so. He doesn’t know where he would be without his own mother. 


“Do you want one?” Jimin asks him, and Yoongi blinks, focusing on the man next to him, eyes fixed on Yoongi’s face. He got so lost in wondering about Jimin’s life that he failed to see the younger man had noticed he was there. 


“I don’t smoke,” Yoongi replies, and Jimin raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, I want one.”


He steps closer then, reaching out for the cigarette Jimin has just taken off a package. Yoongi puts it between his lips and accepts the lighter from Jimin’s hand. He doesn’t smoke too often, that’s true, but right now it doesn’t seem like such a bad idea. Yoongi gives the lighter back before taking a long drag, the feeling of smoke down his throat a little weird after so long. 


They stay in silence for a while, and it’s a bit strange, but Yoongi always thought comfortable silence was overrated. 


There’s history here. Unresolved history, nonetheless. Of course the silence is itchy. 


“You’re a great actor, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi mutters, and he doesn’t know who’s more surprised by the comment; Jimin or Yoongi himself. 


A heartbeat, a drag. “Thank you, hyung.” Jimin blows out the smoke and Yoongi brings the cigarette back to his lips, pulling in. “I do my best.” 


“You always have.” 


That makes Jimin cough and Yoongi surges forward, putting a hand on the younger man’s back, not sure if he should hit him there lightly or call for help. Jimin coughs a few times, free hand coming up to grip Yoongi’s wrist for support and then he’s fine. A little teary-eyed, but fine. 


Yoongi’s breath of relief is met with a chuckle and a head shake. “Always worry too much, hyung,” Jimin tells him. “But I must admit I’m surprised to see this care being directed at me.” 


“Do you by any chance think I want you dead just because I don’t wanna talk?” Yoongi asks, and it’s not mean, or harsh, or accusatory. It’s sarcastic. “Since when do you think so low of me, Park Jimin?” 


Jimin gives him a small smile and throws his cigarette on the floor, extinguishing the flame with his shoe. “Well, I’m glad we are talking at all.” 


Yoongi takes another drag, buying time. He’s thinking about the dream, and about the past, and about the present, and about all the things that were never said. It’s unnerving. 


“I don’t mean to come out as someone who holds a grudge,” he starts carefully, eyes trained to the lake, but very much aware of Jimin’s stare. “I don’t hold a grudge. That would make me a bitter man, and I am not one.” 


Yoongi blows out the smoke, watching as it flows through the cold air and disappears. 


“As incredible as it may seem, I’m not a mess, Jimin,” he continues, a small chuckle escaping through his lips. “I’ve had a couple good relationships, even moved in with one of my boyfriends. It didn’t work out because life’s like this, but I’m good at managing my own feelings.” 


He thinks back to when he sat down with his latest ex and they decided to put an end to them, just like that. Of course it hadn’t been just like that , things were stiff and cold between them for a while, but there was never a big fight or a lot of crying. Their relationship simply had ran its course, and Yoongi moved on. 


“I hate miscommunications and up until recently I didn't know it was that what destroyed the most important relationship I had when I was younger,” Yoongi mutters, not needing to look at Jimin to know he tensed up. “Ever since I found out you’re gay, I have tried to piece together your reasoning at the same time I try to ignore you completely. Does that make sense?” 


“It does,” Jimin replies, voice small. “That’s how I’ve felt about you this whole time. Thinking about it and trying to let go.” 


Yoongi takes one more drag, the longest one yet, and allows the smoke go down his throat and settle in his lungs before blowing it out with a deep exhale. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling right now. 


“I was talking to Namjoon the other day about that line in the movie where your character says we sometimes fail our own,” Yoongi mutters, voice trembling as he comes closer to making his point. “I fear that in the midst of my early ignorance I might have hurt someone’s feelings. We aren’t perfect, Jiminie-yah, and by we I mean all of us.” 


“People make mistakes,” Jimin agrees and he sounds so hopeful that Yoongi feels bad because he’s not about to give him what he wants, even if he doesn’t know what Jimin wants necessarily. 


“They do,” Yoongi whispers. “And we can apologize for our wrongdoings, but the people we hurt have no obligation to forgive us.”


He looks at Jimin then, watching as his childhood best friend’s face falls into understanding. “I guess,” he mutters. 


“I’m good at working things out,” Yoongi proceeds, eyes piercing through Jimin’s. “But when it comes to you, I don’t even know where to begin. I don’t know how I feel.” 


Yoongi drops his cigarette to the ground and steps on it, watching his own shoe for a while before moving his eyes back up at Jimin.


“It’s been ten years, Jimin, I’ve healed, it’s not like I’ve been moping around for a decade,” Yoongi sighs. “But just because I healed it doesn’t mean there isn’t a scar, and scars can easily be open wounds if we don’t take care of them.” 


“Are you saying you can’t forgive me?” Jimin asks. “Well, that is what you’re saying, but I uh, I guess I just thought maybe one day…” 


“One day,” Yoongi agrees, licking his lips. His tongue tastes of cigarette. “I told you I didn’t want to talk because I’m not ready to not be angry, and when we talk, I want to be ready.” 


Jimin nods slowly, eyes on his own hands. “I’ve spent countless nights up wishing I had been stronger. Wishing I had done us differently.” 


Yoongi’s breath hitches and he feels the emotion in his throat at the same time it reaches his eyes. Before Jimin notices, he wipes the tears away from his face and takes a deep breath. “Regrets are part of being human just as much as mistakes are.” 


“And love,” Jimin adds, looking up at him. “And forgiveness.” 


“You remember that day when we were biking on the park and you got mad at something I said?” Yoongi asks and Jimin nods, smiling through the sadness. “You drove to the other way and disappeared on me. I got so worried.” 


“I didn’t hear the end of it for a month,” Jimin recalls. “You were so angry at me for leaving you alone.” 


As soon as the worlds are out, Jimin realizes why Yoongi brought this story to the surface. You were angry at me for leaving you alone . The actor presses his lips in a thin line. 


“I’m only human, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi says with a small shrug. “I wish I could erase the last decade with a snap of my fingers, and then we could start again, but I can’t. I’m only human.” 


“I understand, hyung.” 


Yoongi sighs again. “But we can hang out, you know?” He turns his eyes to Jimin, who frowns. “We can talk, and go out with our friends if the opportunity surges, and when I’m ready to talk about us, we’ll talk, if you still want to.” 


“I’ll want to,” Jimin confirms, a little breathless. 


Jung Wheein screams somewhere in the distance that they’re about to resume the shooting. 


“Alright,” Yoongi smiles at him. Not brightly, not like he’s Yoongi’s best friend, but he hopes it’s a good smile. “Let’s go.” 


Jimin follows him back to the set, and they go in a slightly less uncomfortable silence than before. 


Maybe they are not so overrated after all. 


Ever since Yoongi said he didn’t want to talk about the past, Jimin has apparently decided to focus on the present, approaching him about scenes and discussing current subjects between takes. He never, ever mentions how they have known each other since they were basically infants or how they grew up together and were best friends until the very moment Yoongi packed his bags and moved to Seoul, and even if that feels like running away from the situation, that’s what Yoongi needs, at least for now.


The only time Jimin ends up mentioning the them-from-before is when they are casually discussing mandatory military service and when they went. Yoongi had gone after finishing college and Jimin as soon as he graduated school. Yoongi thinks that makes sense since there really was a gap year in the early stages of their separation when he had no idea where Jimin was and was too up his own butt to ask his family. 


“I hated every second of it,” Jimin says, eyes cast on the soda can in front of him. “It’s not a good place for people like us.”


And Taehyung, who’s just next to him at the table sighs heavily. “What is even a good place for people like us?”


Yoongi flicks his eyes down. He doesn’t have such a pessimistic view of the world. When they were younger Jimin used to say he was the hopeful type and Yoongi kind of agrees with him. He has always preferred to criticize and take something positive out of things rather than say it’s rotten and it can’t get better. That’s maybe why it wasn’t so heart-wrenching when he accepted he was gay. Yoongi always knew it wasn’t going to be easy and he wrote several very good think pieces in the form of essays in college about it, but he chose to be optimistic. 


This country is rotten ,” Namjoon had told him. “ How can we bloom what’s rotten?


Don’t use your pessimistic metaphors around me ,” Yoongi had replied with a roll of his eyes. “ Things aren’t black and white. They’re not even gray. You know what color they are .”


Namjoon had narrowed his eyes and scoffed. “ I can’t say pessimistic metaphors, but you can use cliché ones about the pride flag.


I can because I’m older than you. Now shut up and finish the screenplay ,” Yoongi had said. 


They had a pretty interesting dynamic back in the day, and now to think about that specific  conversation when they’re working on a movie called Color Me Free makes Yoongi chuckle, which draws the attention of both Taehyung and Jimin.


“What’s so funny?” Taehyung wonders, seemingly taken aback by Yoongi’s reaction, but the director has no idea what they were saying. 


“I drifted off,” Yoongi explains, a little embarrassed. “Was thinking about something, uh, from the past. I apologize.”


“You used to do that a lot when we were growing up,” Jimin mutters with a fond smile. It doesn’t last long, though, because his words catch up to him and suddenly there’s worry in his eyes. 


Taehyung looks between them. “You grew up together?”


Yoongi clears his throat and nods, Jimin’s mortified expression making him look younger than what he is. “Yeah, we’ve known each other since Jimin’s 10th birthday,” Yoongi explains, giving Taehyung a stern smile. 


“Oh,” the actor replies, scratching the back of his neck. “So you’re Jimin’s Yoongi-hyung. Shit, never would’ve reached that conclusion.”


Jimin’s Yoongi-hyung . Yoongi doesn’t know why finding out Jimin has talked about him to Taehyung surprises him so much, but it does. He has noticed how close the two actors are, but close enough for Taehyung to know about him ? Looks like it.


“Yeah,” Jimin mutters, looking at the younger man. “The Yoongi I told you about is this Yoongi, isn’t it crazy?”


“Yeah, it is,” Taehyung agrees, seemingly uncomfortable.


Yoongi doesn’t blame him. He feels a bit weird too. 


“I’m gonna go to my trailer,” he says, excusing himself. Both actors wave him goodbye and Yoongi barely breathes all the way out of the set. 


Despite that awkward moment, Yoongi’s interactions with Jimin don’t change in any way. They go back to never mentioning their past and so on the shootings go. Turns out that becoming reacquainted with Jimin is like riding a bicycle, and even if at first he was afraid of getting on the bike, one day not long after that conversation between cigarette drags, Yoongi realizes he’s already riding it.


He’s not one to go out much, but the cast and crew often hang out in bars on the outskirts of the film set or in the film set, so more than once Yoongi saw himself with a soda can in hand and a warm, nice conversation. And more than once, Jimin was there, too. He has become such an interesting person, Yoongi notices. Well, Jimin was always interesting , but before he didn’t carry around all this confidence and maturity and Yoongi guesses that’s normal human evolution. Jimin’s 27 now, a very known openly gay actor with a stellar career already and multiple brand contracts duo to his popularity and carisma - he has done a bit of digging after they started working together. 


Jimin has always been a genuine and talented boy, so in retrospect, it doesn’t surprise Yoongi at all to see the man he has grown up to be. All he can’t help but wish for is that he had been there to see it all happening with his own eyes. The fact he wasn’t and he still doesn’t understand why is the only thing keeping him from properly letting Jimin back on the bike with him.


So Yoongi decides that it’s time for them to talk about it again, really talk about it this time, even if he’s not really sure he’s ready to have this conversation. He has no idea how he will react to what Jimin has to say, even if he so dearly hopes he can get a hold of his emotions and act like an adult. Yes, Jimin had hurt him deeply, caused a wound that for a long time Yoongi didn’t know if he could close. But it’s closed. He’s healed. He can’t let the fear of it opening again stop him from getting the answers he deserves.


Or that’s what he tells himself before approaching Jimin and asking if he can come to his trailer after shooting is done for the day.


The actor blinks at him, obviously very surprised by the request, but nods. “Of course, hyung. Anything in particular you wanna talk about?”


Yoongi clears his throat. “I’m ready to talk about the reasons why.” And even if Jimin had told him before that he would definitely want to talk about it when Yoongi decided he was ready to listen, it’s very noticeable how the younger man’s taken aback by the words. “If you don’t want to-”


“No,” Jimin interrupts, eyes wide. “I want to. I do. I’ll come by after shooting.”


“Alright,” Yoongi agrees before walking away from him to check if everything’s ready for the next scene. 


Truth be told, Yoongi has a hard time focusing for the rest of the day’s shooting, but he’s a professional, so he manages.


Namjoon’s there today, even if he doesn’t have to be, and his eyes narrowing in Yoongi’s direction every now and then make the older man feel weird, wonder if he’s being too obvious. His friend doesn’t say anything, but Yoongi knows Namjoon’s full of questions.


When the shooting finally ends and the screenwriter puts on headphones to check the last few takes, Yoongi turns to Wheein to ask for a bottle of water. He doesn’t look in Namjoon’s way until his assistant brings back the water and he thanks her in a small voice, gulping half of it down in one go, eyes finally focusing on his friend. “If you’re not satisfied with it, we can ask the actors back.”


Namjoon licks his lips, eyes on the screen. “Are you satisfied with it?”


“If I wasn’t I wouldn’t have called it a day,” Yoongi replies softly, and that’s true. “I might not be in a good day, but I’m still a professional, Joon-ah.”


“I’m here if you want to talk,” Namjoon says in an equally soft voice, eyes finally darting away from the screen and landing on him. “You know.”


Yoongi nods. “I have someone else I need to talk to right now, but I’ll call if I need a shoulder to cry on.”


That surprises Namjoon and Yoongi knows why; he’s not the type to so bluntly talk about his feelings, let alone about the possibility of tears . And even if he did say it as a dry joke, he’s not sure it won’t happen after he talks to Jimin. 


Yoongi puts his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder and hopes his silence speaks enough. His friend doesn’t say anything else, just stares back and offers Yoongi a small smile. 


There’s almost no one around anymore when Yoongi walks back to his trailer, the sound of the little pavement rocks resonating in his ears with each step he takes. It’s still hot even if the night fast approaches, and Yoongi can hardly wait for summer to be over. He likes autumn better, always has. 


When he first noticed Jimin was getting different, it was the summer of 2010, right before the boy’s 15th birthday. Yoongi, 17 at the time, felt like a complete freak for how he couldn’t take his eyes away from his best friend every time Jimin so much as tried to dry the sweat out of his face. He didn’t know why that simple movement was so appealing to him, especially because he didn’t even think anything dirty. It wouldn’t be until later that year, right around Christmas time, when Jimin brought up the subject of kissing, that Yoongi would start to go through that phase, and how loving Jimin became wondering what it’d feel like to date Jimin, too.


He sees Jimin’s sitting on the stairs that lead up to his trailer from a distance, a cigarette between his fingers. He’s still wearing the clothes from the last take, blond hair tucked back, but instead of the brown boots, the actor has slippers on his feet. Jimin takes a drag of the poison and blows out the smoke in the exact moment he turns his face in Yoongi’s direction. “Hi,” he mutters, voice low. “Am I too early?”


Yoongi shakes his head, hands inside his pockets. “Not at all.” Jimin’s eyes remain on him as he continues to walk towards the trailer and it’s only when Yoongi stops right in front of him that Jimin stands up, throwing the cigarette on the floor and stepping aside so Yoongi can unlock the trailer. “You shouldn’t smoke too much.”


“I know,” Jimin replies. “It’s a bad habit.”


Once they’re inside and Yoongi has closed the door, he honestly don’t know where to start. Jimin seems to be as lost as he is because the actor just stands there in the middle of the very small corridor with his hands behind his back, eyes looking around the room as if to busy himself with something. 


“Do you want something to drink?” Yoongi asks. Guesses that’s a good enough first question. “I have water, tea and soda.”


Jimin smiles. “Wish you had something stronger.”


Yoongi shrugs in apology. He’s nervous, he knows. Heartbeat increased, hands sweaty, mind swirling. It’s normally an unsettling feeling, but oddly enough, he’s not scared right now. He wants this moment. He wants to understand. He wants to know. 


“I don’t want anything,” Jimin says before taking a seat on the small couch. He glances up at Yoongi and waits for something, maybe for him to sit, too? But ultimately clears his throat and begins. “Ever since I found out you’d be directing this I’ve been trying to come up with ways to explain my thought process and why I stayed silent for a decade.” 


He takes a deep breath and chews on his bottom lip, eyes now cast somewhere behind Yoongi. The older man feels dizzy already, and they haven’t even really began talking. He has thought about this moment so many times, has thought about all the ways he would scream at Jimin and blame him for everything that happened. He fantasized about telling the man everything his absence made him feel, about calling Jimin a homophobe right to his face. 


Yoongi thought about all of that and all of that dissipated the moment he found out Jimin was gay, too. Because with that knowledge all the pent up anger he had over his best friend rejecting his sexual identity was a lie. It wasn’t real. Jimin wasn’t disgusted by him. Maybe he was at some point due to his own internalized homophobia, but obviously not now. So why? Why did he never contact Yoongi? 


“That’s what you want to know, right?” Jimin continues, bottom lip swollen from all the biting and chewing. “I never reached out to you because I was ashamed of myself, hyung.”


Yoongi blinks at him. It’s such a normal and simple answer and something about it makes him a little surprised. “That’s it?” He sees himself asking.


Jimin chuckles dryly. “That’s not it , shame is a powerful force,” he whispers, eyes suddenly shining. Yoongi can feel his own throat closing up and he really wants to reach out to hug Jimin, but before he can move from his spot the younger man wipes the tears threatening to fall. Yoongi’s somehow thankful because it would probably be a stupid decision to wrap Jimin around his arms right now. “It was like a riptide broke when you came out to me. I felt forced to face all the things I had buried deep inside myself. You, or better yet, who you were to me, included.”


Yoongi frowns, finally sitting down on the single chair in the room, facing Jimin. “I’m not following. What do you mean who I was to you?”


Jimin takes a deep breath, and then, simply, like it’s nothing, like this doesn’t completely change everything, he mutters: “I was in love with you.” 


The words float around the air, touching Yoongi’s face like acid. He blinks; once, twice. “What?” The question comes out strangled and it makes Jimin flinch. 


“Yeah,” is the only reply Yoongi receives. 


Yoongi revisits his memories of growing up alongside Jimin, trying to find anything in his behaviour that would confirm what he’s saying. But there’s nothing. At least, nothing he can think off now as his world turns upside down and all he has ever known burns into dust.


“What the fuck,” he whispers, more to himself than to the other man. 


“I blamed you,” Jimin explains, seemingly unaware of the amount of overwhelming feelings coursing through Yoongi. “For making me like that, a homosexual .” He rolls his eyes. “I blamed you for so long that when I finally accepted that I was born like this and falling for you was not a sin, we were distant already, and I was left with embarrassment.” 


Yoongi’s hearing the words, but there’s a buzz inside his ears. Jimin was in love with him ? But he – 


He was the one who was in love. Even if Yoongi always knew there was something different about him, it was not until he fell for Jimin that he fully accepted what that meant, and what that made him. Jimin, whose laugh made his stomach flutter. Jimin, whose fingers Yoongi wanted to intertwine with his. Jimin, whose lips he wanted to taste. 


And even though he was afraid of that feeling at first, it lasted for so long that he learned to embrace it, and it became part of who he was.


“I pushed you away” Jimin whispers, eyes on his hands, “because I was afraid of what loving you meant for me.” 


He wants to say he understands, but he doesn’t. His mind can’t grasp the idea of Jimin loving him, too. 


Yoongi spent so many nights feeling guilty for having such thoughts about his best friend, for thinking about touching him like that. For touching himself thinking about touching Jimin like that. All while Jimin was repressing the same kind of feelings. “That’s insane.” 


“I know,” Jimin agrees. “I’m sorry, I know it’s weird to hear the person you grew up with was in love with you the whole time.” 


Yoongi bites down his bottom lip, anxiety rising up. “It’s not weird,” he assures Jimin. “Just unexpected.” 


The younger man nods. “Now you know the truth. I was just a coward.” 


“Not a coward,” Yoongi mutters, the need to comfort Jimin strong even if his mind is swirling. “It’s the world that is sick. And look at you now. Risking your very impressive career to star in a controversial film for free because that’s what you believe in.” 


Jimin smiles, shyly. “Gotta make up for the mistakes of the past somehow.” 


“You’re brave, Park Jimin,” Yoongi says firmly. “Thank you for being honest with me.” 


“Let’s always be honest with each other from now on,” Jimin asks and Yoongi nods, his truth hanging heavy on his tongue. “Thank you for listening.”


They fall into silence, and if it’s awkward Yoongi can’t tell because he can’t focus on the now. The now means nothing when the past has just changed its form completely. 


Jimin clears his throat. “I’m sorry I ran, I’m sorry my immaturity caught up to me,” he mutters, eyes on Yoongi’s. “When you called me that day I thought maybe the universe had other plans for us other than to be each other’s long lost best friend, and I confess that hope hasn’t subsided. I just… I hope we can be friends again.”


“I think we can,” Yoongi replies, surprising even himself. But. He does. He really does hope so.


Jimin nods firmly before standing up to leave. Yoongi has been comfortable with hugs for a while, sometimes even initiating the affection, and right now, there’s nothing he wants to do more than to wrap Jimin around himself and tell him everything’s going to be okay. Tell me him the past no longer matters and all they’ve felt is shifted, and transmuted, and different. But he can’t. He can’t because this is all too much too fast and he needs to think. 


So his childhood best friend just smiles sweetly at him and leaves after a small “see you later”. 


Yoongi’s partially relieved, of course. He feels it in his heart that they can begin again now, can try to rebuild their friendship. Maybe not from where it stopped, but from a completely new place — they’re adults, after all, living their truth and okay with who they are. It’s different from when they were kids.


But he can’t shake off Jimin’s confession. I was in love with you , he had said. It makes Yoongi’s heart hurt to know that his feelings were reciprocated. 


If only the world was a better place. Yoongi and Jimin could have grown up and been okay with falling in love, could have asked each other out under the school bleachers, perhaps kissed on the ferris wheel, and walk back to their street holding hands to let their folks know they were together. And maybe it would all have had come crashing down eventually, but maybe they would still be together now. 


Maybe, if the world was a better place, Yoongi and Jimin would go home together tonight. 


But the world isn’t and Yoongi doesn’t think he can ever forgive it for it.


December 22th, 2010


Yoongi shouldn’t entertain such thoughts. 


It’s Jimin , his Jimin. Yoongi met him when he was ten. He’s not ten anymore , his mind lets him know once again. His mind has been insufferable for the past few months.


“Hyung, are you okay?” Jimin asks, moving into his space, face next to his. “You’re so quiet today.” 


“I’m always quiet,” Yoongi mumbles, eyes on his phone. He can’t think about this. He won’t. “Should be used to it by now.” 


Jimin pouts. “But I wanna talk.” 


“Then talk.” 


“You’re not paying attention to me,” he complains. 


Yeah, because if I do I’ll combust .


Yoongi takes a deep breath and focuses his eyes on the boy. Jimin’s face started to change lately. Well, truth be told, Yoongi’s not sure what lately means here, because Jimin has always been his cute and small friend, and now he’s– 


He’s still cute and small, but there’s something different. Yoongi has been thinking a lot about him. It’s weird. He’s weird. 


“What?” He asks, trying to sound not-mean but uninterested at the same time. 


“Have you had your first kiss yet?” Jimin asks, so bluntly and openly that Yoongi chokes on nothing. “Jesus, hyung, calm down.”


Yoongi blushes furiously, so embarrassed for his reaction. Then he puts his phone down, looking away. “I have, yes. Why?” 


“There’s this girl in school that I heard wants to ask me out,” Jimin explains. “Thought you could give me some tips.” 


“On how to pick up girls?” Yoongi’s voice is restrained, heart pulling at the strings. 


“On how to kiss them.” Jimin sighs, and Yoongi finally looks at him again. “I’m 15, and it’s time for me to start to be sexually active.” 


Yoongi holds in a groan, lost on why this conversation makes him so uncomfortable. For a moment, he entertains the idea that it’s because Jimin’s his childhood friend and picturing him in such scenarios is disgusting, but Yoongi knows that’s bullshit. It’s bullshit because Jimin’s plump lips and right there and for a wild moment Yoongi entertains the idea of leaning in and kissing them.




He thinks about how to reply for a minute before opening his mouth. “There’s no initial age for that stuff, Jimin, and you shouldn’t force yourself to do something you don’t wanna do. I had my first kiss only in the beginning of the year.”


Jimin seems surprised at that answer, eyes open wide. “But you’re almost 18,” he says as if it’s absurd for Yoongi to have waited for so long to have his first kiss.


And maybe it is, but only Yoongi knows why. When he was younger he tried to shut it down and pretend it wasn’t happening, it wasn’t real, but when he finally admitted to himself he could only get off to the thought of boys, the first reaction was to find a girl and use her to make him normal. 


Of course it didn’t work. He kissed her and he fucked her and he didn’t like it. 


“Everything happens when it should happen,” Yoongi tells him, locking his thoughts and experiences away. Jimin doesn’t need to know about any of this. Differently from him, Jimin likes girls and his life will be easier because of it. “Do you want to kiss her?”


Jimin shrugs. “Of course I do, hyung, she’s a girl.”




“Then just…” Yoongi trails off, ignoring how this whole conversation hurts. “Use your tongue, but not too much. Be careful with your teeth and honestly Jimin, practice is learning.”


Jimin nods, blush on his chubby cheeks. “Alright.”


“And don’t grow up too fast,” Yoongi advises. “Trust me. It’s not worth it.”


“You talk like you’re an old man,” Jimin says with a chuckle. “Please, hyung, you’re just 17!”


Yoongi offers him a small smile. “And that’s exactly why I know you should take your time with things.”


Jimin hums, eyes on his. “Alright, hyung. I’ll do my best.”


“That’s all I can ask for.”



Things don’t necessarily get better right after that, but Yoongi doesn’t want Jimin to notice he’s spiraling out of control. 


The confession was too unexpected. Whatever Jimin had to say to explain why he never walked inside Yoongi’s life again, being ashamed for the love he felt for him was never something Yoongi considered to be a reason. 


For the entirety of the following week, all Yoongi can think about is 18-year-old Jimin in his old bedroom floor, crying his heart out for a love he believes is one-sided and also wrong. He can’t fathom the confusion and shame of having that truth being ripped out of you after repressing it for all of your life. 


Jimin apologized, explained his reasoning and asked if they could try. So, they’re trying. Yoongi’s trying, even if he constantly thinks about what could have been. It’s been ten days since their conversation and Yoongi fairly often finds himself laughing during takes because of something Jimin has said, or joining him to eat ramen after the shooting is over. 


Between sharing anecdotes about their careers and remembering with laughter some of the things they went through together as kids, Yoongi discovers forgiveness doesn’t take anything away from him. 


And they don’t talk about deep shit again, so that makes everything easier. The light, easy subjects feel right. 


“Jungkook-ssi,” Yoongi calls and the actor comes closer, fake piercing dangling from his nose. “Wanna try shooting the fight from your left instead, think you can throw punches with the same graciousness?” 


“Absolutely, sir,” Jungkook replies, winking. 


Yoongi smiles at him and turns to the crew, adjusting his headphones. “Everyone in position, please!” 


This is the only week Jungkook’s available to shoot, so they’re doing his scenes now. They’re part of the beginning of the movie, so it’s a bit weird to go back to that vibe after shooting Jihyun adjusting to his new life. 


“Action!” Yoongi shouts. 


“Here he comes,” Jungkook’s character, Changkyun, mutters. Jihyun flinches, continuing to walk with his head low. “I wonder what daddy will think when he finds out you blow dicks.” 


“Sounds like you want a taste,” Jihyun mutters.


“What the fuck did you say to me, you fairy?” Changkyun grunts. 


Everyone on set has their eyes glued on the scene unfolding; Changkyun going for the punch, Jihyun backing away, the fear, the confusion. It’s very intense and Yoongi would deem it the toughest scene of the whole screenplay. 


“Cut,” he shouts. 


Jungkook’s expression softens and he hugs Jimin, who chuckles on his embrace. “Buddy, I’m sorry!” 


“It’s okay, Googie,” Jimin’s muffled voice says.


“I think we got it this time,” Yoongi announces. “Let’s give a round of applause to Jeon Jungkook, a terrible person on screen, an amazing human out of it!” 


Everyone starts clapping and Jungkook blushes furiously. “Thanks, guys,” he says, arms still wrapped around Jimin’s smaller frame. “Great work, this movie is very necessary.” 


Jimin leans in and kisses his cheek. “Thank you for being a part of it.” 


It’s been dark for a while and now that this scene is over, all Yoongi wants to do is sleep. He’s on his way to his trailer to grab his phone, wallet and keys when Jungkook comes running. 


“Hyung!” The boy shouts and Yoongi would be lying if he said didn’t like to hear the honorific. “We’re going out for burgers and fries, wanna join?”


Yoongi pouts a bit at him. “I’m really tired.” 


Jungkook’s taller self pouts even more. “But hyung ,” he whines. “We haven’t talked in person in so long.” 


“I know,” Yoongi agrees, sighing. 


After someone – most likely Hoseok – gave Yoongi’s number to Jungkook, the actor has been texting him a lot, and although at first Yoongi was a bit on the fence about it, Jungkook’s really funny and he loves talking to the kid. 


But he’s a very busy actor, so they don’t get to go out much – or at all. 


“Okay,” Yoongi agrees and the way Jungkook’s face lights up makes him smile. “Who’s coming?” 


“Just me, you, Jimin-hyung and Namjoon-hyung,” Jungkook replies, blushing when Yoongi narrows his eyes. “What?” 


“Did Namjoon ask you out?” 


“What?” Jungkook exclaims. “No.” 


Yoongi raises an eyebrow. 


Jungkook lowers his eyes. “Maybe.” 


“He finally asked you out and you invite us to come along?” Yoongi exclaims, can hardly believe. Jungkook has been pining over Namjoon for, according to Hoseok, a year , and now that Namjoon has finally taken his head out of his ass, Jungkook- “Did you gay panic?”


“Yes,” he admits. “He just said it out of nowhere , and of course I didn’t get he was asking me out on a date , so I turned to Jimin and said ‘wanna join?’ and Jimin stood there completely baffled and I still didn’t get it.”


He says it all so fast that by the end of his rant Yoongi’s already laughing, hand on his belly. “You’re so stupid,” he says, body shaking with his amusement. “So you want me to come along to what? Make your date even more crowded?”


Jungkook scratches at the back of his neck, blush becoming more apparent. “It was Jimin-hyung’s suggestion, he said we could all go together, and then you two could just exclude us and then leave.”


“Sounds good,” Yoongi mutters, eyes narrowing again. “Jimin’s idea, uh? Where is he?”


“His trailer,” Jungkook replies. “To change.”


Yoongi nods. “Go wait with Namjoon-ah and we’ll join you in a bit.”


“Thank you, hyung,” he pouts and Yoongi shoves him away with his hand.


After stopping by his trailer, Yoongi walks the few steps that will lead him to Jimin’s and knocks three times. 


“Who is it?” Jimin asks. 




“It’s open.”


Yoongi steps inside and closes the door behind him, eyes going over the small space. Jimin’s trailer is much different from his, so vivid, full of pictures and glitter, even a pride flag. He briefly wonders if that feels like freedom to him, but shoves the thought to the back of his mind.


Jimin’s currently removing the traces of his makeup in front of the mirror, already changed into his normal clothes.


“If you wanted to ask me out, you could’ve just done that,” he says, and Jimin’s eyes snap wider than Yoongi has ever seen them, and that’s when he notices how his sentence sounded. “No, I mean like… Hang out together. If you wanted to do that, you could’ve just asked.”


“Oh,” Jimin says visibly relaxing, eyes focusing back on his reflection in the mirror. “Is this about me telling Googie to invite you to come with?”




Jimin sighs. “Well, even though I do want to hang out with you, hyung, at this particular moment I just want Namkook to get going because I’m quite tired of Jungkook whining about how much he admires Namjoon-hyung and how he wishes Namjoon-hyung would date him, and blah-blah-blah.” He rolls his eyes and Yoongi chuckles. “I thought you and I could team up and make it happen.”


“Namkook,” Yoongi snorts. 


“Do you ever check Twitter?” Jimin asks, a wicked smile on his face. “Ship names are fairly common and at times quite cute.”


Yoongi hums, feeling a bit embarrassed for assuming Jimin’s intentions. “Sorry?” He offers.


Jimin shakes his head. “No need to say sorry, hyung, I do understand how it looks,” he mumbles, applying lip-balm. “But we’re adults now, we can always be honest. Right?”


“Right,” Yoongi agrees, heart jumping as he remembers Jimin confessing to being in love with him when they were teenagers. He feels guilty for not telling Jimin that he was in love back, but Yoongi doesn’t see a positive outcome from this revelation, so he thinks to keep it to himself is the wisest of decisions. “Ready to go?”


“Yes,” Jimin says, smiling, eyes dropping to Yoongi’s lips and moving back up to his eyes so quickly that the older man’s pretty sure he imagined it. “Let’s make Namkook a reality.”

Yoongi grabs another fry and tosses it inside his mouth, chewing as he focuses on Namjoon’s tale about when he came out to his mom. 


They’re in a diner that Jimin found out of the blue and four people already asked for autographs, but other than that, it’s been peaceful.             


“She just stared at me and I knew she was thinking about all the girls she sadly heard me fuck over the years,” Namjoon says with a chuckle and the rest of the laugh. “And I was like mom, this is bisexuality, it just means that I fuck dudes too.”


“You did not ,” Jungkook screeches, face red from laughter. “I refuse to believe.”


“I did, I swear!” Namjoon argues, and Jungkook rests his forehead on Namjoon’s shoulder, laughing away. Yoongi watches as Namjoon slowly stops laughing, absurdly aware of Jungkook’s proximity. 


Jimin bites down his lower lip, eyes on them as well. He’s smiling so big and that’s probably the prettiest he has ever looked. “I think I’m going to go,” he announces, which makes Jungkook lift his head and stare at him with wide eyes. “Today was tiring.”


“Are you sure, hyung?” Jungkook questions and it sounds so truthful that for a second Yoongi fears he’s gay panicking again, but there’s a hint of a smirk on his face now that Namjoon can’t see it. 


“Yeah, I’m sure.”


Yoongi takes the last sip of his Coke and sighs. “I think I’ll go, too.”


“Can you take me home?” Jimin asks, then turns to the others. “Will you be okay coming back alone?”


“Of course,” Namjoon is the one who replies, dimpled smile on display. 


Yoongi can’t help but chuckle at how easily Namjoon accepts they’re leaving. He’s happy for his friend, he hopes he and Jungkook work out. “I’ll take you home, Jimin-ah.”


They say their goodbyes and off they go. Yoongi’s very tired, but at least there’s no shooting for the next couple days, so he will take the time to lay on his bed and do absolutely nothing. Jimin, on the other hand, says he has a commercial to film the day after tomorrow, so he really should get his rest.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     


Yoongi’s not used to driving at all, but at night is particularly uncommon for him, so he’s careful as the car slides through Seoul’s streets. Turns out Jimin lives very near him, in the same district, which is convenient for his fear of late night driving.


The silence isn’t uncomfortable, both too relaxed by the food and laughter from the dinner, but eventually Jimin breaks it.


“How’s your mom?” He asks, casually.


Yoongi hums, hands tightening on the steering wheel. “She’s fine,” he replies. “Dad died.”


Jimin’s head snaps in his direction. “I’m so sorry, hyung, I didn’t know.”


“It’s okay, it’s been, uh, six years.”


“I barely talk to my mom, so I guess it’s understandable why she didn’t tell me,” he mumbles and Yoongi wishes he could look directly at him right now, see his expression. “And I don’t talk to my dad at all.”


“I’m sorry, Jimin, that we both lost our fathers.” Yoongi takes his right hand off the wheel and places it over Jimin’s, holding slightly before pulling it back. 


“Me too, hyung, me too.”


They arrive at Jimin’s building not a long time after that, and Yoongi parks in the front so the younger man can get out. He gazes at him then, smiling a bit. “This was great, Jimin-ah, I’m glad we’re trying.”


Jimin lowers his head, sad smile peeking at his lips. “I hope I didn’t make things too awkward that day,” he mutters. “You’ve been looking at me weird.”


“I have?” Yoongi asks, suddenly nervous. He thought he was being discreet while dying inside.


“Yeah, before you didn’t look at me at all, now you look at me like… I don’t know,” he breathes out, seemingly searching for the right words. “Like you know I used to be in love with you, I guess.”


Yoongi licks his lips, hands sweaty. “That doesn’t bother me, Jimin.”


“Didn’t say it bothered you,” he trails off, head still low. “But it does make you feel something.”


It’s not a question, and that tells Yoongi that Jimin knows him still, even if it’s been a decade. Whenever Yoongi was cooking something up in his mind, he’d get all silent and wandery, always thinking about the best way to approach the situation. 


Except this time he hadn’t intended in approaching anything at all. 


He thought it was best if Jimin never knew he used to feel the same way. That he, too, was the other’s first love. Because, then, if Jimin knew, maybe he would think about the things Yoongi’s thinking about, and wonder what could have been, and hate the world for not giving them a chance of just being . And he doesn’t want that for Jimin. It hurts too much.


“What does it make you feel, hyung?” Jimin whispers, eyes finally on his, blush on his cheeks.


“I’m too sober for this conversation,” Yoongi snorts, pinching the bridge of his nose. He sighs heavily, licking his lips again before staring at the cars passing by them behind Jimin. 


“Wanna get wasted, then?” Is what Jimin asks. “I have plenty of buzz in my apartment.” The younger man takes a deep breath. “We promised honesty.”


A long moment passes while Yoongi stares at him and doesn’t say anything. Rationally, he knows coming up to drink and talk is a bad idea, but considering that Jimin’s looking at him with expectant eyes and Yoongi has never been one to say no to Jimin’s puppy face (even if it's a grown up version of it now), he can’t. 


All he can hope for is that Jimin can handle the truth better than he can.


“Alright,” he replies, and Jimin looks so absurdly surprised that if Yoongi was sure this was a bad idea before, now he’s absolutely convinced. “I take no responsibility for the things that come out of my mouth once I’m drunk.” 


“Should I be scared?” Jimin asks almost mockling, and Yoongi hold a maybe threatening to slip out of his tongue. “You can park inside, I have two spots.” 


While he parks and then inside the elevator, Yoongi feels anxiety rising. Not the bad, gut-punching, tears falling and hands shaking type. More the… Holy fucking shit, this is real type. 


Jimin’s apartment isn’t an apartment at all. It’s a penthouse, so huge that Yoongi thinks he would get lost inside. But it feels cozy, somehow, and vibrant, just like the trailer. There’s a painting of two women kissing in the living room, the pride flag on their clothes and coloring their faces. 


“Taehyung painted that,” Jimin says, noticing Yoongi’s interest. “He saw a picture of this couple at the São Paulo Pride and decided to draw them.” 


“It’s beautiful.” 


Jimin shrugs off his jacket and sighs, a hand running through his hair. “I’ll get out of these very uncomfortable jeans and then I can start getting you drunk.”


“Such a bad example, Park Jimin,” Yoongi replies with a click of his tongue, heartbeat increasing speed. 


“You have no idea,” Jimin replies ominously before disappearing inside the corridor. 


Yoongi looks around, taking in the very spacious living room sporting two small blue sofas and a center table, the fireplace with no wood inside and the colourful walls. Yoongi doesn’t see any house plants, or animal toys and concludes with a sad smile that either Jimin never granted his own wish to have a cat, or the pet had existed and was no longer around. 


He doesn’t have time enough to panic and activate flight mode. Jimin’s back very soon, grey sweatpants and a loose yellow tee shirt on. He smiles at him and goes straight to the bar. “What’s your poison?” 


“Whiskey, neat,” Yoongi says immediately and Jimin turns around, right eyebrow up. “I’m joking. Give me some white wine, please.”


Jimin nods, grabbing a bottle inside his mini-bar with two huge glasses and comes back to the living room. He sits on one of the two sofas, pops the bottle open and pours half glasses for them both. 


Yoongi takes one and downs the whole thing, making Jimin stare for a brief second before giggling. “Alright, mister.” 


“I have a high tolerance,” he explains. 


“Me too,” Jimin counters, drinking the wine in one go, eyes on Yoongi as he does so. “Ask me something,” he mutters.




Jimin nods, pouring more wine into his glass and then doing the same with Yoongi’s. “Yeah, anything you wanna know.” 


The possibilities are infinite, but Yoongi goes for what he’s most curious about, even if his throat closes up before he speaks. “How did you work through your internalized homophobia?” 


“Jumped right in,” Jimin mumbles, voice a little high. Then he smiles and Yoongi knows it’s an okay question. He puts his feet up on the couch and hugs his knees before speaking again. “It was a little over six months after you moved away for college. I was checking Facebook and saw you were in a serious relationship,” he shrugs. “I cried for hours.” 


Yoongi licks his lips, the processing of the words so slow that it feels like he’s drunk already. 


He remembers that moment of his life very clearly. He was so caught up on Jimin that he decided the best way to approach this was to get hammed in every party and fuck everyone who looked interested in him. Eventually, that led him to spending more than a few nights with Jooheon, and to say yes when the boy asked to be his boyfriend, even if he didn’t like him back. It was a shitty move on Yoongi’s part, he’s very much aware.


“So, in a way, we can say that you boning someone else was my gay awakening,” Jimin sneers, and it’s supposed to be a joke to lighten the mood, but his voice is dry. “That night was a nightmare for me. Had to face the reason why I was so heartbroken and the jealousy I felt wasn’t simply because you were my best friend. Then I blamed you for making me like that, but I told you this already.”


He takes a large sip of his glass and bites down his lower lip, silence hanging in the air between them. 


“Let’s keep drinking,” Yoongi says and feels Jimin’s eyes on him as he fills his glass to the brim. “Your turn.” 


“Have you ever slept with a woman?” 


“Yes, once.” Yoongi takes a large and delicious sip of the wine and hums. “It was alright, but it didn’t do much for me, to be honest.” 


Jimin nods, finishes his second glass. “I tried, but couldn’t get it up. It was terrible, and my last attempt at being normal ,” Jimin says, making quotation marks with his fingers while saying the last word before reaching forward to pour himself more wine. “That’s when I started to go into online communities to find some sort of support.” 


“You did that?” Yoongi asks, surprised.  


“I don’t know if you noticed, hyung, but being gay isn’t something common where we come from,” Jimin replies with a chuckle. 


“Or maybe it is and we just don’t know,” Yoongi counters. 


“Touché,” Jimin clicks his tongue and downs the entire glass. “I’ve never actively tried to get drunk so quickly.” 


“Me neither,” Yoongi slurs out before pouring himself his third, no, fourth , or is it really third? glass. “Have you ever been in love?” He asks and before Jimin can reply he adds. “Apart from me.” 


He didn’t think hearing the words coming out of his own mouth would have such an effect on him, but as soon as they’re out, Yoongi feels butterflies in his stomach. Jimin’s cheeks have been pink ever since the car, so Yoongi can’t tell if he’s flustered because of the question, the alcohol or just the whole situation. 


The actor licks his lips and takes a small sip of wine before he replies. “Maybe.” Jimin breathes out the word, a shrug of his shoulders, a distant look in his eyes. “There have been a couple people,” he continues. “I don’t know if it was love.”


“But me you know,” Yoongi mumbles, almost unconsciously. 


“Yeah, hyung, you I know.” Jimin’s voice comes out steady and his eyes stare into Yoongi’s for only a moment before they drop to his lips again — Yoongi absolutely didn’t imagine it —, but then his gaze shifts, and he takes a large gulp of wine, placing the glass on the center table, close to the half-empty bottle. “Does that bother you? I know you said it didn’t, but you were sober before.”


Yoongi finishes the glass and places it on the table as well. He’s not yet drunk, but not really sober, somewhere in between and hopes that’s good enough. “It really doesn’t bother me,” he assures him. “It makes me wonder.”


“Wonder what?”


“What could have been.”


Jimin’s expression goes from apprehensive to confused in a split second, deep frown between his eyes, lips pursed. And even though Yoongi thinks the younger man deserves a larger explanation of what he means by that, he’s not sure he can say it with all of the words. It’s not something he has ever voiced out loud. His love for Jimin was always something he kept a secret from everyone in his life; himself included, for a while.


The silence isn’t uncomfortable, but it is heavy, maybe even heavier than it was the day they had that conversation in the trailer.


“What could have been,” Jimin repeats, slowly, as if he’s chewing the meaning of the words to understand its taste. 


Yoongi nods, reaching out for his glass again and drinking the rest of the wine. “Between us.”


“Hyung,” Jimin says and it sounds like a plead. “Just say it.”


Just say it . That’s something Yoongi told himself countless times in the mirror of his small bedroom with Nas and TuPac posters all over the walls. Just tell Jimin how you feel, you idiot


“I was in love with you, too,” he whispers. Not to the mirror, but to Jimin himself, sitting in front of him, with his legs up on the sofa in his living room. 


Yoongi can’t bring himself to look up, though, so he just stares at his own empty glass and the words ring in his ears. Part of him hopes Jimin won’t make a big deal out of it, that he will giggle and say something along the lines of how stupid they are for not knowing about each other’s feelings. Part of him hopes Jimin won’t even acknowledge his words, moving on to another subject and making this officially something of the past. 


And another part of him, one that Yoongi refuses to think about too much, wants Jimin to say that it’s never too late, even if rationally, Yoongi knows it is. It is too late. 


“I don’t know what to say,” is what Jimin comes up with after Yoongi has melted in his spot on the couch. “I thought you were being weird because the idea of me feeling this way was odd to you, not because you,” he stops, takes a deep breath, “felt the same.”


“Well, I was very surprised when you said you liked me, so, let’s cheer to being stupid, I guess,” he replies, realizing he said himself what he hoped Jimin would. 


Jimin doesn’t chuckle, or make any noise for that matter, so Yoongi decides to finally look up. It almost knocks the breath out of his lungs to catch Jimin staring at him intently, as if he’s trying to recognize who he’s looking at. He has his arms wrapped around his legs, head tilted, eyes impenetrable. Yoongi feels absurdly naked right now.


“I don’t think we were stupid, hyung,” he mutters, shaking his head, eyes going from impassible to deeply sad. “But it is what it is.”


“Yeah,” Yoongi agrees. “It is what it is.”


It gets quiet after that. Jimin pours them both another full glass of wine and then the bottle is over. Yoongi takes his and drinks in silence, mind buzzing with alcohol and regret. He wishes to say something else, but doesn’t know what. What is there to say now? Everything is out in the open; Jimin knows he loved him. He said it is what it is. 


Up until now, Yoongi refused to entertain the idea of his feelings for Jimin not having disappeared completely, but as he chungs the rest of the wine down his throat, Yoongi comes to the frightening realization that this type of feeling doesn’t vanish. It stays with you. It’s part of you. Even if he’s not in love with him anymore like he was when they were teens, he will always love Jimin, and he hopes Jimin will always love him. 


“Have you?” Jimin asks, then. Yoongi’s caught by surprise, not expecting to hear anything else, really. “Been in love, apart from me,” he explains when it’s obvious Yoongi didn’t get it.


“Maybe.” Yoongi thinks about his last relationship. Was it love? Does love end or simply changes? “I’m not sure.”


Jimin chuckles at that, shaking his head. “God,” he breathes out. “Maybe we are idiots.”


“The world just sucks, Jimin-ah.” 


“I’ll drink to that.” Yoongi watches as the man downs the rest of his last glass and places it back on the table. He feels weightless. It’s probably the alcohol. Jimin looks at him. “You think we would have had a shot?”


“Us?” Yoongi asks. “As a couple, you mean?”


“Yeah, hyung.”


He doesn’t have to think for too long. “Yes, of course.” It hurts to say it. 


Jimin offers him a sad smile. “Me too.”


The silence this time feels heavier than anything Yoongi’s experienced before, but when he flicks his eyes at Jimin again after a few minutes, he realizes the man has dozed off. He looks so peaceful sleeping, so much like the boy Yoongi used to sleep next to so many years ago. 


Yoongi takes a deep breath, wipes the tears threatening to fall off his eyes and stands up, grabbing his phone and the car keys on the center table.


He decides to walk home, too many thoughts and alcohol swirling around his mind for him to be okay getting behind the wheel.


May 24th, 2017


Yoongi hates today. 


He hates looking at his mother and seeing her tear-stained face. 


“Hey,” his boyfriend mutters, caressing his cheek. Yoongi looks up at him. “Don’t you think you’ve smoked enough today?”


Yoongi scoffs, the cigarette trapped between his lips, waiting to be lit up. “Are you policing me?”


Kihyun shakes his head, a small sad smile on his lips. “No, Yoongi-yah, I just care for you.” The man tilts his head and lowers his hand. Yoongi immediately misses his touch. “If you want to smoke this one I won’t stop you, or judge you. But I really think you shouldn’t.”


“My father’s dead,” he says matter-of-factly, eyes suddenly stinging. “He’s dead and I’ll never get to make him proud.”


His boyfriend’s about to say something when a familiar voice pierces through Yoongi’s ears. He walks to the living room, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and watching as Park Eunseo hugs his mother. Yoongi feels an ache in his heart and even though he would deny it if asked, he knows has nothing to do with the loss of his dad. 


“Yoongi-yah,” Eunseo wails, turning to embrace him in a tight uncomfortable hug. “I’m so deeply sorry.”


As she hugs him, Yoongi catches Park Jihun walking inside and placing a hand on his mother’s shoulder. He looks at Yoongi, and then at Kihyun. “Yoongi-yah, my condolences,” he says firmly. “I’m Park Jihun,” he introduces himself to Kihyun, bowing a little.


“Yoo Kihyun,” Yoongi’s boyfriend introduces himself, equally bowing to the couple. 


Jihun frowns, but doesn’t say anything. Yoongi is all too familiar with that type of reaction, but today he’s not in the mood, so he just pulls Kihyun out of the room and back to the kitchen. His boyfriend goes easily and they stand there for a few minutes just listening to the elders conversation. Kihyun reaches out to the cigarette still in Yoongi’s hand and puts it back between the older boy’s lips. 


“Last one,” Kihyun tells him.


“Are you letting me smoke because of the homophobes?” Yoongi asks, fishing the lighter inside his pocket. 


Kihyun hums. “These are Jimin’s parents, correct?”


Yoongi gulps down hard before pulling in the smoke and nodding. “Yeah,” he croaks out. “Maybe that’s why he’s a homophobe, too.”


“He ain’t coming by?” Kihyun asks, voice small. 


“I don’t think Jimin would willingly walk inside any room I am in,” Yoongi replies bitterly. “Probably too afraid of catching the homosexuality virus.”


Kihyun just looks at him. Yoongi continues to smoke until he’s too sad to even pull it in, so he turns on the tap and kills the fire before throwing the cigarette in the trash. His boyfriend steps forward, wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s shoulders and giving him a peck on the lips. “I’m sorry your first experience with love was like that, Yoongi-yah.”


“It’s okay,” Yoongi says, even if he knows it’s not. “I’m over it.”




The rest of shooting goes smoothly, and his rebuilding relationship with Jimin doesn’t have any setbacks — or any further for that matter, but Yoongi tries not to think about it. In fact, he tries not to think about the events of that night at all, and Jimin only helps by not mentioning it whatsoever. 


They hang out with some people from the cast and crew after shooting or during the weekends, always engaging in easy conversation, comfortable in each other’s presence. Sometimes, during gatherings, one or the other end up mentioning that they grew up together, were friends until Yoongi moved away for college, but never include the silent years, or the reasons why they stopped talking. 


And that’s good. It’s good to focus on the now rather than what it was or what it could have been. 


Although… Sometimes, he thinks Jimin’s eyes linger on his face a little longer than necessary, or he feels his fingers tingling to hold the younger man’s hand. It’s not something Yoongi allows himself to think about, because he’s focusing on the now. They both are. 


They are friends again, and whatever it is Yoongi’s heart does when he’s talking to Jimin is probably just reminiscent from what he felt before. And even if sometimes during the past few weeks, it looked like Jimin wanted to say something to him, Yoongi thinks it’s better off this way. Life is what it is; Jimin said it himself. 


“And that’s a wrap on Color Me Free,” Yoongi exclaims, his words followed by applause, shouts and some music. 


“Is anyone gonna give a speech?” Jung Wheein asks, smiling bright. 


Several people scream “Namjoon!”, but the producer and writer just waves it off. “At the wrap party,” he says. “In my house tomorrow.” 


“But for now, let’s get buzzed!” Hoseok screams and everyone shouts again, music becoming louder. 


Yoongi chuckles, watching as the people he has worked with for the past few months start to dance and drink, much more friendly and excited than during the party on the first day. 


He feels at ease, too, so proud of their work and excited for what’s to come. His, Namjoon’s and Hoseok’s jobs are not done since the movie will go to post-production and that’s a whole other set of heavy work. 


But for now, he will celebrate. 


“Director,” Seokjin calls, a warm smile on his face. He approaches Yoongi, right hand wrapped around a beer bottle. “Thank you for being so open to our own ideas. It was an immense pleasure.” 


“Me too, Seokjin-hyung,” Yoongi replies, matching the other man’s smile. “Hopefully our paths will cross again in the future.” 


Seokjin winks and places a hand on his shoulder. “Certainly hope so.” 


They chat for a few more minutes and then Park Jihyo drags Seokjin for a group photo and Yoongi’s left alone with his sad and almost empty glass of wine. 


He starts to scatter the crowd looking for Namjoon or Hoseok, but then Jimin comes into focus, a smirk on his lips as he comes closer. “What?” Yoongi asks. 


“Seokjin-hyung has a crush on you,” Jimin hums, and his voice sounds so uninterested it comes off almost as intentional. He stands next to Yoongi, eyes on his co-star, now participating in a photo session with some of the crew. “He asked me if you were single the other day.” 


“Oh,” Yoongi replies, surprised. 


He can feel Jimin’s eyes on him as he glances over at where Seokjin is, trying to imagine himself in a romantic scenario with the man, but he can’t. Seokjin’s very attractive, Yoongi knows that, but–. Well, he just can’t. 


“You should ask him out,” Jimin suggests. 


Yoongi gapes at him, then, an eyebrow arched. “I should?” 


“Yeah,” Jimin says, nodding his head, Adam’s apple bobbing with how hard he swallows. “He’s a catch.” 


“Why don’t you ask him out?” Yoongi fires back without thinking much. “You’ve already kissed him a few times, you know you two have chemistry.” 


Jimin’s face is once again blank. Perks of being an actor, Yoongi guesses; you can choose when to show emotion. 


“Kissing on the job is different from kissing for real, hyung,” Jimin says like it’s the most obvious thing and Yoongi’s an idiot for not knowing that. “It doesn’t have that passion, the burning desire you feel running through you when you make out with someone you really want.” 


Yoongi drinks the rest of his wine, not quite sure how to reply to that. “So you’re saying you don’t want him?” He chooses to ask.


“That's what I’m saying, indeed,” Jimin pops every syllable out very slowly and Yoongi’s not sure if he’s annoyed or just drunk. “I want someone else.” 


Somewhere, in the back of Yoongi’s mind, a siren goes off, but he’s had a few drinks, so why not just ignore it? 


“You do?” 


Jimin hums, eyes on the other side of the room. “Will you ask him out?” 


“Not interested in him,” Yoongi replies, still trying to understand where Jimin’s going with this. He has a theory, of course, he’s not stupid, but Yoongi thinks it’s best for him to not go into that direction unless it’s confirmed. “Who do you want?” 


Jimin bites down on his bottom lip and turns his head to face Yoongi, blinking slowly. His face, still mostly emotionless, erupts into a small smile and he shrugs. 


Yoongi’s slightly annoyed; he doesn’t like games, never has, and if Jimin’s wants to play one, he will let it be clear he won’t be part of it, but before he can open his mouth, the actor speaks again. 


“I want you to be happy, hyung,” he says, reaching out to touch Yoongi’s arm. “Sorry if me suggesting you asked Seokjin-hyung out was weird.” 


“It’s fine,” Yoongi replies automatically, an unknown mix of feelings making him a little dizzy. 


“I think I’mma go home,” Jimin mumbles. “See you tomorrow at Namjoon’s?” 


Yoongi nods, lips pressed in a thin line. Jimin leans in and presses a kiss to his cheek, making Yoongi hold in a gasp of surprise. It’s quick, the boy doesn’t linger, but Yoongi thinks he can feel the spot where his lips touched tingling long after Jimin has said goodbye and left.

Yoongi barely sleeps that night, mind so full of Jimin that every time he closes his eyes, it is of him he dreamed of. It’s insufferable, really, like he’s back to being a teenager. 


Except, it’s nothing like it was ten years ago, and Yoongi knows it. 


They’re both openly gay, successful, apparently emotionally stable men, and they’ve already established they did have feelings for each other growing up. 


So, what now? 


Yoongi sighs heavily, staring down at his sandwich. He’s not supposed to be thinking about this. Just because it looked like Jimin was trying to get a reaction out of him the night before it doesn’t mean he actually was. 


Maybe Jimin really wanted to hook him up with Kim Seokjin. 


“He definitely did not want to hook you up with hyung,” Namjoon states half an hour later, sitting on Yoongi’s kitchen counter with a mug full of hot coffee in front of him. 


Yoongi’s not really one to share, but after the shitty night he had, not to count all the other nights where he tried to convince himself he wasn’t thinking about Jimin, maybe it is time. And who better than Namjoon to spill your feelings to? The man’s a walking advice machine.


“So you think he was flirting,” Yoongi mutters. 


Namjoon hums, takes a sip of his coffee. “I would say he was testing the waters,” he replies carefully. “Like he’s not sure this is the best course of action.” 


“It isn’t.” 


“Why’s that?” Namjoon has that inquizzing look in his eyes that has always annoyed the shit out of Yoongi, but not this time. “You think that he’s confused?” 


“I don’t know what to think,” he admits, voice small.


Namjoon circles his thumb on the edges of the mug, eyes trailed down. “Can I give you my advice?” He looks up just in time to catch Yoongi’s response nod and continues. “From what you told me, you and Jimin were in love with each other while growing up, and because the world sucks and homophobia is a real thing, you never got to confess or live out your feelings.” 


“That’s correct.” It still feels weird to hear it out loud; Jimin was in love with me, too


“Then, because of a series of misunderstandings and internalized homophobia, you both spent the last decade without speaking and loathing yourselves or the other,” Namjoon proceeds and Yoongi would be lying if he said hearing that doesn't sting. “And now, here you are, trying to rebuild your friendship.”


Yoongi brings his lips together and shrugs. “Now that you’ve made your recap, feel free to share your advice, because I sure as hell need it.”


“Well, basically, just talk to him,” Namjoon says and before Yoongi starts to complain, his friend gives him a pointed look, so Yoongi waits. Namjoon takes another sip of coffee. “You’re not sure if you feel something for him now, or if it’s just a ghost from the past,” he suggests, and when Yoongi doesn’t deny, Namjoon gives him a stern smile. “The only way you can find out is if you try, hyung.”


Yoongi runs a hand through his recently died bleach-blonde hair and sighs. When he thinks about Jimin, he can’t help but be flooded with memories of the past. Yes, he has entertained the idea of kissing 27-years-old Jimin, but whenever he allows his mind to go there — which, to be fair, isn’t often —, he can’t help but think about that night in his bedroom when Jimin asked him if he had ever been kissed and how much the desire to kiss him burned through his body. Just kids, both of them. Yoongi had felt so ashamed. 


Should he be ashamed now? Is this wrong? Are they wrong?


“I don’t want to ruin us again,” he explains, voice low. “We’ve had so much taken from us, Namjoon-ah, including each other. It sounds so stupid to fuck that up because we want something solely because we were robbed of having it before.”


“Are you positive that’s the sole reason?” Namjoon wonders, eyebrow raised. “I know it’s complicated, hyung, but you’re overthinking it.”


Yoongi snorts, “Look who’s talking.” Namjoon gives him an eye roll and a shy smile before taking the mug again between his hands. “I do want to know what it feels like to have him,” he admits, blushing. “I’ve wanted that almost my entire life. And that’s precisely why I don’t know if this feeling is real.”


They fall into silence and Yoongi’s mind goes back to a few weeks before when they were in the set for a late-night shooting. Jimin was getting his makeup done and Yoongi sat on a chair next to his, absently typing away on his phone. It took him a few minutes to notice Jimin was looking at him with a fond smile. “ I missed you ,” the actor said, almost shyly. “I’m glad we get to be friends again, hyung .”


And Yoongi couldn’t help but blush at the honesty and warmth of his words, entire body tingling. “I missed you too, Jiminie-ah ,” he replied, just as honest. “ I missed your friendship .”


That was after the confession, after they both already knew how they used to feel about each other. It was after Yoongi had walked home that night and cried while jerking off under the hot water of  his shower, trying not to think about how pathetic he was. It was after he had come to work and talked to Jimin about anything and everything, except them . After he had promised himself in the mirror he wouldn’t let old feelings come back.


And now, sitting around his kitchen counter with Namjoon silently finishing to drink his coffee, Yoongi doesn’t know what he’s supposed to feel, or to do. He hears his friend’s advice, and he knows deep down Namjoon is right, but he can’t make a decision. Every possible path sounds trippy and dangerous. He doesn’t want to step forward, or step back. Why can’t he just stand still?


Because that’s not how truly living works, Yoongi .


“What if I want both?” He whispers, more to himself than to Namjoon, but hoping his friend will give him a good answer anyway. “What we didn’t get to have and what we can become.”


Namjoon smiles without showing his teeth, his very characteristic dimples on display. “As long as you’re both able to separate the people you used to be from the people you are now, I think you’re good.”


“I’m terrified,” he breathes out, chuckling a bit. He looks at Namjoon. “Wouldn’t it be funny if we had this whole conversation and in fact Jimin isn’t into me at all ?”


“No, it would not be funny,” Namjoon replies with a click of his tongue. “But it sounds unrealistic, Jungkook told me he talks about you a lot.”


Yoongi blinks. “And you’re just mentioning this to me now?”


“I shouldn’t have mentioned it to you at all, but you’re dense as fuck, so.”


“You’re an asshole,” Yoongi spits, but there’s no real bite to his words. Silence again. “I don’t know what to do.”


Namjoon sighs. “Yes, you do. You’re just afraid of doing it.”


Yoongi can’t deny that, so he stays silent and sees all over Namjoon’s face how much he enjoys being right. “You really are an asshole.”


“I know.”

Yoongi had never been to Namjoon’s house before. Well, at least this house. It was ridiculously huge, much bigger than Jimin’s, and it was on the outskirts of the city. If he was honest, Yoongi didn’t think having a three-floor mansion matched much with Namjoon’s style, but after walking inside and seeing how much life he poured into every single room, he starts to change his mind. 


There isn’t many people around yet, Yoongi has always like to be early, so he grabs a bottle of beer and sits next to Hoseok, who’s very excitedly talking to Jungkook. The actor is wearing a leather jacket much similar to the one his character wears in the movie and Yoongi squints his eyes at it, which makes Jungkook blush and scratch the back of his neck. “What?”


“Nothing,” Yoongi snorts, taking a sip of his beer. His eyes travel through the room, humming to the soft bop of a Frank Ocean song he forgot the name of, playing somewhere in the distance. There’s a huge plant next to the fireplace and Yoongi wonders if Namjoon named it; he used to do that when they were in college. 


Little by little, the cast and crew start to arrive, and by 8pm Yoongi’s sure they are in every news article of the country, the party becoming larger and louder than he had thought it would be. 


Yoongi’s not a fan of crowds, so he secludes himself to be always close to Hoseok - normally he would have gone for Jungkook, but the boy couldn’t stay away from Namjoon and as the host, Namjoon was always moving around. 


“How you feeling?” Hoseok asks, no , shouts at him over the loud music. “You seem a little out of it.”


“Not a fan of parties,” Yoongi shouts back, shrugging. He scans the crowd once more, wondering if Jimin hasn’t arrived yet, or he just hasn’t seen him. 


Hoseok nods. “I love them,” he exclaims. “Wanna dance.”


“Please, go, I’m a big boy.”


Hoseok takes a look at him just to make sure he’s serious and then stands up with a smile, launching himself into the crowd like a pro. Yoongi watches his friend with a grin and then a chuckle once Kim Taehyung arrives behind Hoseok and places his hands on the other man’s hips, attracting the eyes of none other than Kim Seokjin, who was previously happily chatting with Jung Wheein and now has a pained frown between his eyes.


Oh , Yoongi thinks. That looks tricky .


He’s so focused on observing this new kdrama being formed in front of his eyes that he failed to notice when someone had approached him until the person sits by his side. Yoongi turns his head to the left and catches Jimin’s wide smile. He thinks his heart skips a beat, but maybe that’s just because the song is too loud. 


“Hi,” Jimin says, even if Yoongi can only make it out because of the way his lips move. Then he says something else, but Yoongi doesn’t understand. Jimin rolls his eyes. “Wanna get out of here? Too loud!” He shouts. “Let’s go.”


Yoongi nods, mouth suddenly dry. Jimin stands up immediately, hand coming down to wrap around Yoongi’s and pull him away from the living room. Yoongi follows, because that’s the only thing he wants to do, and then after a few moments walking through the people in a lot of different rooms, they’re outside. 


Not the outside in front of the mansion that Yoongi saw when he arrived, so he can only assume they are in the back. There’s no one there, and Yoongi’s not quite sure why, because this looks like the exact place in which Namjoon would want to throw a party. It’s a great garden with some modern art statues and a pool in the center, surrounded by a ceramic floor. There are a couple of benches and tables surrounded by ceramic chairs, not to mention the different and colourful flowers all around. 


“How did you know about this place?” Yoongi asks, a little breathless by the sight. There’s no light there except for the ones coming from inside the house and the moon above. 


“I’ve been here before,” Jimin explains with a shrug of his shoulders. 


He doesn’t let go of Yoongi’s hand until they are sitting on one of the benches, and even though he’s wearing skinny jeans, Yoongi still feels the cold of the ceramic on his thighs. “This is such a beautiful spot,” he mutters, the now distant sound of music making it very easy for him to talk low. “Maybe that’s why Namjoon didn’t want anyone here.”


“Like they would stain it?” Jimin asks, looking at him. 


“People stain everything.” Yoongi doesn’t know why he said that, he’s not exactly the one to have philosophical conversations about the universe, that’s more of Namjoon’s style. 


Jimin nods in agreement, elbow resting on the bench as he continues to look at Yoongi. “Are you drunk?”


“No,” Yoongi says with a chuckle. “Why? Am I being too emo?”


Jimin shakes his head no and offers him a smile. “When are you guys starting to edit the movie?”


“Next week,” Yoongi informs, heart beating fast against his ribs. He needs to calm down. “Are you starting another movie soon?”


“Not until the 18th,” Jimin licks his lips and runs a hand through his blonde hair. “Come on,” he calls as he stands up. 


“Where are we going?” Yoongi wonders, following Jimin with his eyes. “We just got here.”


Jimin doesn’t say anything, just gives Yoongi a pointed look and waits. Jimin looks ridiculously gorgeous tonight. He’s wearing tight black jeans with holes around the thighs and a vibrant orange silky shirt, with a black leather jacket on top. Yoongi had noticed before how much the younger man loves accessories, something he never wore when they were kids. 


“When did you start to wear so many rings?” Yoongi asks as he stands up. 


Jimin glances down at his hands full of silver rings and smiles. “Around the same time I started to wear makeup,” he mutters, eyes coming back to Yoongi’s. “When I stopped to care.”


He turns around and starts to walk again, knowing without having to look that Yoongi’s right behind him. Jimin stops briefly in front of a glass door to unlock it - when did he get the key, Yoongi wonders -, and then slides it open for them. It’s a somewhat small room adjacent to the mansion that Yoongi would have totally missed in the darkness if not for Jimin. 


After they are inside, Jimin closes the door again, but doesn’t lock it. “Violà,” he sings, an arm stretched and pointing at the pool. “Yes, there are two pools inside this ridiculously enormous house that Namjoon-hyung absolutely doesn’t need, but bought anyway.”


Yoongi chuckles, eyes on the still water in front of him. This pool is much smaller than the one outside, and the whole atmosphere of the place makes it cozy enough for Yoongi don’t need an explanation as to why would one build an inside-doors pool. But still, “That’s such a rich people move,” he snickers and Jimin laughs. “Maybe this is why he doesn’t want anyone back here.”


“Well, good for us,” Jimin smiles as he kicks off his shoes and sighs in relief. “God, those were killing me.”


“Are you diving your feet inside the water?”


Jimin hums in agreement as he takes off his black socks. Yoongi watches as the younger man sits on the edge and pulls his jeans up to his calves before diving his feet inside. “This is quite warm,” he announces, blizz on his face. “Join me, hyung.”


Yoongi hesitates for just a moment before he pulls his own shoes and socks off and sits next to the actor, repeating his movements. The water is indeed warm and Yoongi would feel calm about it if his mind wasn’t so full. His eyes go from his pale feet inside the water to the man beside him, eyes closed, small pleased smile on his face. It’s only then that Yoongi realizes Jimin never turned on the lights to the small pool room and all his sight comes from the moon outside. 


“Are you happy?” Jimin asks all of a sudden and Yoongi blinks, heart lipping. “I don’t mean right now, just… In general.”


“I don’t think happiness is a state of mind,” Yoongi replies, eyes darting away from Jimin’s face to observe their feet. Jimin’s skin is much darker than his pale one. “It took me a long time to understand that, though. I used to hate myself for not feeling happy, until I realized that I did feel happy, just not all the time.”


“But we have periods in our lives where everything just sucks,” Jimin counters. “Like when I accepted I was gay, it was a nightmare for a solid month or so, and then when I came out to my parents… That was hell.” He takes a deep breath and Yoongi wants to know, but he won’t push him for details. “I think I’m in a good period of my life right now, hyung.”


Yoongi smiles softly. “Me too, Jimin-ah,” he says honestly. Even though he has doubts and uncertainties, Yoongi can’t say that he’s unhappy. 


It’s silent for a moment, and then Jimin looks on him. “Do you have your phone on you?”


“Yes,” Yoongi replies slowly. “Why?”


“Wanna send Hoseok-hyung a text and I didn’t bring mine,” Jimin explains and puts his hand up, waiting for Yoongi to give him his phone. Yoongi does. “Thank you.”


“Why do you wanna send Hoseok a text?” He asks, can’t help his own curiosity.


Jimin licks his lips and stands up. “Ask him to come join us.”




Yoongi doesn’t know why it hurts, but it does. Well, who is he kidding? He knows why it hurts. He thought Jimin wanted to spend some time alone with him, maybe talk, or even—


You assumed things again , his mind tells him. 


But before he can sulk into the sadness, Yoongi feels himself being thrown inside the pool. It’s so fast that he doesn’t even have time to fight, becoming soaking wet within seconds. He blinks completely shocked and hears Jimin’s loud laughter before his eyes settle on the small figure by the pool’s edge. “The look on your face, hyung,” Jimin snorts, phone in hand. “Oh, God, don’t be mad, okay? I knew you would refuse getting inside so I had to do it.”


“You little shit,” Yoongi barks, splashing water on him. Jimin tries to move away to avoid getting wet, but it’s pointless. “I’ll come get you.”


“No need to!” Jimin shouts, shrugging off his jacket before putting Yoongi’s phone on one of the chairs and removing his own phone from inside his pants before jumping inside the pool. Yoongi’s still shocked about the whole thing, so he just covers his face and waits for Jimin to emerge before moving towards him. “This is fun.”


“You’re an asshole, Park Jimin.” Yoongi shoves him lightly on the shoulder, which only makes Jimin laugh again, and Yoongi sees himself smiling a bit. “I’m all wet, how am I going to go home now?”


Jimin snorts. “Please, stop whining,” he mumbles running a hand through his very wet blonde hair, thick lips shining. “You used to hate going inside the pool when we were kids.”


“I still do,” Yoongi grumbles, heart fluttering with the knowledge Jimin didn’t want to text Hoseok at all. They’re alone, inside a pool, and that’s what Jimin wants. Yoongi wonders what else does the man want. “Can I ask you something?”


“Of course, hyung,” Jimin has a wicked smile on his face and Yoongi should hate it, but he doesn’t. He wonders if Jimin knows what he wants and if that’s precisely why he brought him here. “Even sober I’m an open book.”


Yoongi chuckles, walking backwards until his back hits the edge of the pool. He could give up now, talk about the most random subjects until inevitably they’d have to go back inside, but he won’t do that. 


He won’t stand still anymore.


“Yesterday when you tried to push me to Seokjin-hyung and not so casually mentioned you wanted someone else,” he starts and Jimin reacts immediately, top lip getting trapped by his teeth, eyes expectant. “Were you trying to get a reaction out of me?”


For a moment there’s only silence, but then Jimin opens his mouth to pop out a small, “Yes.”


Yoongi doesn’t allow himself any time to process it. “Why?”


“I don’t know,” Jimin whispers, eyes on his. “Well, I’m not sure. I just… I’m confused, hyung.”


“I am too,” he confesses and almost scoffs at the surprised look on Jimin’s face. “Just don’t play games with me, I’m too old for that.”


Jimin nods and chews on his bottom lip. “I’ve been thinking about you more than I should.” The sentence hangs in the air and Yoongi searches for the right way to reply to it, but before he has the chance, Jimin continues. “And I’m confused as to why that is.”


“You don’t know if you’re thinking about me because of me or because of who I was to you before,” Yoongi suggests, and again, Jimin looks surprised. “That’s how I feel too.”


There’s another moment of silence where it seems Jimin’s weighing his words very carefully and where Yoongi just looks at him with what he hopes are soft encouraging eyes.


“I like you, hyung,” Jimin mutters, voice small and unsure; not of the feeling, but unsure if he should be saying it at all. “You were my best friend for almost ten years, and now we are becoming friends again, and I like you,” Jimin breathes out. “And that’s something normal, right? But then you’re talking and I feel this urge to kiss you all of a sudden, or I wonder if you’ve been seeing someone and it just hurts me right here to think you are,” he says, holding a hand over his own heart. 


Yoongi feels so overwhelmed with emotion hearing Jimin confess to feeling exactly the way he does. “And you don’t know if that’s because of the past or the present,” Yoongi finishes for him and the way Jimin’s breath hitches tells him everything he needs to know. “I had a long conversation about that with Namjoon this morning.”


“You did?”


He nods slowly, wanting to do nothing more than to reach out and hold Jimin in his arms. “I’ve wanted you for almost my entire life, Jimin,” he says and the honesty of the statement doesn’t scare Yoongi like he thought it would. “I want you now, too.” He watches as Jimin gulps down hard at his words. “But do I want you because I wanted you when I couldn’t have you, or because of you now? That’s the question I was asking myself.”


Jimin looks like he’s about to cry and Yoongi wouldn’t blame him if he did. “Did you reach any conclusions?” 


“I think it’s both,” Yoongi replies. “Namjoon told me to separate the people we used to be from the people we are now, but I don’t think that’s what we should do.” 


Jimin doesn’t say anything, eyes expectant, so Yoongi continues. 


“I don’t want to like you despite the past, Jimin, but I do want to like you because of the present,” he says. “Does that make sense?”


“It does,” Jimin agrees, and he seems relieved.


Yoongi thought it would be difficult to come up with a solution, or to understand what he feels, but it’s not. It’s simple, as simple as leaning forward and kissing him would be.


Jimin’s eyes lower to Yoongi’s lips for a brief second before they dart away. “You’re addicted to coffee,” he mumbles. 


“What?” Yoongi asks, absurdly confused by the sudden change in subject.


“You drink several cups of coffee daily,” Jimin sighs, eyes moving back to his face. “You hated coffee when we were younger.”


Yoongi smiles softly. “College changes a man.”


Jimin runs his tongue over his lips and takes a step forward, the water waving around him. “You like hugs now, you don’t shy away when people wrap their arms around you. I remember you groaned and whined whenever I hugged you before.”


“I grew up,” Yoongi replies, starting to understand where Jimin’s going with this. “You’re bold, doesn’t take shit from anyone, stands up for yourself.”


“I grew up, too.” Jimin continues to move closer and Yoongi can feel his heart racing against his ribs again. “I saw on your Instagram that you have a dog,” Jimin marvels, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “At first whenever you mentioned a Holly I thought it was your boyfriend.”


Yoongi chuckles. “You know I’ve always wanted a dog. You always wanted a cat.”


“I’ll get one eventually,” Jimin promises, stopping right in front of him, close enough so Yoongi could count the drops of water on his lashes if he wanted to. “You still pursue your lips when you’re talking, though, that has always been one of the cutest things about you.”


“You still throw yourself on people when you laugh,” Yoonti remarks and Jimin giggles. “19-year-old me thought that was always going to be the closest I’d get to touching you for real.”


Jimin hums and reaches out, hands brushing over Yoongi’s wet cheek, sending a shiver down the older man’s spine. “30-year-old you is about to have a blast, then.”


Yoongi holds his breath and tries to calm himself down. “Are you going to kiss me, Jimin-ah?” He asks, feeling stupid as soon as the question is out. 


“Yeah, hyung, I am,” is what Jimin replies in a whisper. 


The thing about wanting something so much for so long, is that you end up picturing all the ways it could happen in your mind. Still, when Jimin closes the distance between them and presses his lips softly against his, it’s nothing like Yoongi thought it would be.


It’s shy and tentative, Jimin doesn’t open his mouth and neither does Yoongi. They just breathe each other in, slowly flushing their bodies together. Yoongi’s eyes flutter open because he can hardly believe this is actually happening, and he stares at Jimin’s peaceful expression as his lips melt into Yoongi’s. It’s so soft, Yoongi thinks, and there’s nothing he would like more than to stay right here forever, with his hands coming to hold Jimin by the waist, feeling the younger man’s arms wrapping around his neck. 


They break apart, Yoongi’s not sure who pulled back first, and Jimin’s eyes open slowly, focusing his gaze on Yoongi before dropping it to his mouth. His lips are parted and he looks dizzy, and even though Yoongi can’t see himself, he knows he looks just the same — maybe even more affected. 


Jimin takes a deep breath and leans in again, but it’s nothing like the first time. He doesn’t go slowly, or delicately, and Yoongi hears a whimper breaking out of him as Jimin leaks inside his mouth, hungry. His grip on the younger man’s waist tightens and he kisses back with just as much fervor. Jimin’s tongue melts with his and all of a sudden Yoongi feels himself burn. 


Yoongi has had his fair share of kisses during his life, but up until that moment, he had never kissed Park Jimin, and that makes all the difference. 


Jimin’s hands travel through his hair, pulling his head impossibly closer, and Yoongi takes that moment to suck Jimin’s bottom lip between his, causing the exact reaction he was hoping for; Jimin shamelessly moaning against his mouth. He feels so powerful, more exhilarated than he has ever felt before, hands travelling down just enough so he can pull them under Jimin’s shirt. Yoongi wonders for a brief moment if he even can do that, but then Jimin shivers and sighs as he trails his fingers on his back, only kissing him harder. 


He pulls away to breath and Jimin doesn’t waste any time, leaving open mouthed kisses along Yoongi’s jaw and neck, scraping his teeth over the older man’s pulse point. Yoongi’s very sensitive to touch, and of course Jimin catches up on that very soon, the smile against Yoongi’s skin after he has whimpered again making it clear. Yoongi doesn’t mind being vulnerable or responsive. He wants Jimin to know the effect he has over him. Fuck, he wants Jimin to be just as effected, too.


Yoongi pulls one of his hands out of under Jimin’s shirt and brings it to the man’s nape, pulling softly at his hair so Jimin lifts his head. Jimin comes easily, crashing his mouth against Yoongi’s without any finesse. It hurts at first, Jimin’s teeth clashing against his, but after they laugh a bit, Yoongi’s hand moves to the small of Jimin’s back and presses them even closer together, making the younger man finally, finally , wrap his legs around Yoongi’s waist. 


Yoongi turns them around, pressing Jimin’s back to the pool’s edge and busing himself with sucking on the man’s tongue. Jimin moans softly, fingernails digging on Yoongi’s shoulders through his shirt. It doesn’t hurt, but Yoongi thinks that’s only because of the layer of clothing. Again, he doesn’t mind. He likes it, even. They can talk about it later. 


Later . Because they are going to try. The thought of tasting Jimin again some time in the future even though he’s still tasting him now makes a small groan escape through Yoongi’s lips, which leads Jimin to sucking on his tongue, and then Yoongi’s positive this is how he dies. 


Jimin breaks the kiss this time, bearing his neck. Yoongi kisses the exposed skin and Jimin shakes around him, as sensitive as he is, apparently.  He continues his ministrations on Jimin’s neck, leaving open mouthed kisses and the promise of a purple bruising in the morning — which makes Jimin moan so loudly that Yoongi knows without even looking that he has definitely popped a visible boner. 


He feels so hot, so overwhelmed, so dizzy. He could kiss Park Jimin forever. He wants to.


“I like this so much, hyung,” Jimin whispers against his mouth, fingers caressing Yoongi’s scalp. “I love kissing you.”


“Then kiss me again,” is what Yoongi replies. 


Jimin smiles and pecks his lips once, then twice, then three times. “Is that enough?”


“Not even close,” Yoongi breathes out before capturing Jimin’s lips again, and by the time someone finally comes looking for them and they separate like teenagers caught doing something they shouldn’t, Yoongi has lost count of how many kisses they shared.


“The only question I have is,” Namjoon murmurs, eyes going from Yoongi to Jimin, “why the fuck are you dripping on my wooden floor?”


Jimin giggles loudly and shrugs, shaking a little from the cold. “We found a pool.”


“You found a pool,” Jungkook repeats, hands inside his jacket’s pockets. 


Namjoon chuckles and shakes his head. “I’ll grab towers and you can find something else to wear in my closet, I guess.”


Yoongi still feels drunk on everything Jimin, so he just lets himself be pulled upstairs, stupid smile on his lips. Namjoon throws two white towels at them and opens his closet, saying they can choose whatever, and before he leaves he gives Yoongi a pointed, knowing look. 


There’s a bit of an awkward instant when Jimin obviously doesn’t know if he should get undressed in front of Yoongi, and blushes violently before stuttering he’s going to grab a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and change in the bathroom. Yoongi just nods and smiles, so fond. He walks to the closet after Jimin has already picked something to wear and grabs black sweatpants and a Supreme sweater that Namjoon has probably owned ever since college. 


Since he is left alone, Yoongi gets naked there, and dries his body enough so he can put on the clothes, a little uncomfortable because of the lack of underwear, but he’s really not about to borrow a pair of Namjoon’s without even asking if he could. He glares at the wet puddle on the floor and is contemplating what to do with his clothes when the bathroom door opens and Jimin emerges, blonde hair wet, large t-shirt on. “You look tiny,” Yoongi comments.


“So do you,” Jimin counters, eyeing him up and down. “So cute.”


“I’m not cute,” Yoongi pouts and Jimin smiles widely, walking towards him. Yoongi feels butterflies flying freely in his stomach when the man reaches out and holds his face. It’s so stupid, he thinks, 30-years-old and getting nervous because a pretty boy’s about to kiss him. 


Jimin pecks his lips once and Yoongi guesses that’s all he intended on doing at first, but then Jimin’s pressing his body to Yoongi’s again. It’s so different from the pool; even if the water was warm, there’s nothing as warm as the way Jimin’s skin burns when Yoongi reaches under his shirt and presses his fingers against the soft curve of his waist, eliciting goosebumps through his whole body. 


The younger man’s the one who deepens the kiss first, licking at the roof of Yoongi’s mouth and breathing out softly, fingers strandling on Yoongi’s hair locks. They kiss hard and sloppy, and soon enough Yoongi feels his lips and the corners of his mouth getting wet with saliva, but it simply doesn’t matter. Good kisses are supposed to make a mess out of you. He pulls Jimin’s bottom lip between his teeth and opens his eyes to watch the way the man frowns and whimpers so sweetly, instinctively pressing his crotch against Yoongi’s.


They’re not wearing underwear, so it’s hard to miss the bulge growing in both of their pants. Yoongi knows, in the back of his mind, that this is too fast. Even if they are adults, even if they are very well resolved and know - almost - exactly what they want, they should talk about a number of things before jumping into bed together, including what they like in bed. But the back of his mind is a distant place right now, especially because Jimin’s rubbing himself against him so needly.


Yoongi breaks the kiss, breathing roughly through his mouth as Jimin pushes him against the wall of Namjoon’s closet. He couldn’t say no even if he wanted to, and he absolutely does not. Jimin sucks on his neck, hips still grinding against his and Yoongi closes his eyes, lets himself feel. He slides his hands from Jimin’s waist to the curve of the man’s ass, and Jimin gasps against his skin. “I don’t know what’s coming over me,” Jimin whispers, desperate. “I want you so much, hyung.”


“I want you, too,” Yoongi rasps, voice so sultry that he almost doesn’t recognize it. He lowers his hands a little bit more, grabbing Jimin’s asscheeks and pressing their crotches harder against one another, savoring in the way Jimin moans so unashamed close to his ear. 


A corner of Yoongi’s mind briefly indulges how utterly ridiculous they must look to any outside viewers, humping so desperately against each other like teenagers having their first sexual experience, but again, he decides he doesn’t care. 


He feels like a teenager figuring out desire for the first time, and that’s probably because during his entire life, Yoongi has never quite wanted anyone as much as he wants Jimin. He feels arousal coiling on his stomach, entire body shaking with the overwhelming feeling of lust. “Anyone could come in,” Yoongi beams as Jimin’s trailing kisses down his neck, and it comes out more as an observation than a warning. 


“Does that turn you on, hyung?” Jimin wonders, hips moving steady, the hard grind of their cocks sending little jolts of pleasure through Yoongi’s system.


“I don’t know, but it sounds like it turns you on, Jimin-ah,” he breathes out in a chuckle, hands still grabbing Jimin’s ass. “But, uh, we can’t cum on Namjoon’s clothes, I don’t think.”


Jimin giggles, hips finally faltering and ultimately stopping. He rests his forehead on Yoongi’s shoulder and lets himself laugh it out. Yoongi’s smiling, and his jaw is hurting, but that’s probably because of all the kissing. “We should calm down, then,” Jimin sighs, lifting his head to show Yoongi the most beautiful shade of pink in which his cheeks are colored. “Before we make a mess out of ourselves.”


“More than we already have, you mean.”


“I guess,” Jimin mutters, separating himself from Yoongi and looking down. “Sweatpants are dry, thank God.”


Yoongi glances down, too, mouth watering at the sight of Jimin’s hard dick curved against his thigh. “Let’s sit one meter apart and calm down before going downstairs,” he suggests, sliding to the floor.


“A meter apart?” Jimin repeats, amused. He flops down on the floor in front of Yoongi and crosses his very toned legs. “Scared I’m going to jump you, Yoongi-hyung?”


“Something like that,” Yoongi replies, entire body still tingling. 

For both of their sanities, Yoongi decides not to take Jimin home that night. 


They would most definitely end up in Jimin’s bed and Yoongi doesn’t want to move too fast. Jimin pouts a bit, arms wrapped around Yoongi’s waist as he kisses his neck softly, asking him if he’s sure he doesn’t want to take him home, and Yoongi almost gives in, but he cares too much about them, so he just asks Jimin to go on a date with him instead. 


Jimin says yes, and after a few more stolen kisses in Namjoon’s kitchen (they really were doing a making out tour across their friend’s mansion), he lets himself be taken home by Taehyung.


Yoongi stays for a while longer, drinking beer and talking absently with Jungkook about the movie. He feels giddy and serene at the same time, mind on the sweet bright smiles Jimin threw at him several times during the course of the night.  


When it’s time to go, Yoongi calls himself a car and waits by the sidewalk, stupid smile on his face. He doesn’t even notice when Namjoon approaches him. “I guess things went well,” his friend says. 


“Very well,” Yoongi agrees, chuckling. “It’s weird to think that three months ago Jimin was a bittersweet memory to me, and now...” he trails off, not quite sure which words to use. 


“And now.” Namjoon repeats, but the way he says it makes it final. There’s no comma, it’s a period, or better yet, a semicolon. And now; so many possibilities.


Yoongi bites down his lower lip, remembering how an hour ago he was kissing Park Jimin. “I feel so young,” he tells Namjoon. “I mean, I know I’m not ancient or anything, but I feel this vibration all through my body. It’s been a long time since I last felt this way.”


“It’s called being in love, hyung,” Namjoon smiles. “I feel this way, too.”


The mention of the L-word doesn’t faze Yoongi, or makes him nervous. He doesn’t know if he is in love with Jimin again, but he doesn’t mind not knowing. They can figure it all out together.


“Yeah?” Yoongi looks behind him, where Jungkook’s laughing with Hoseok. “You do?”


Namjoon nods. “I do.” 


“Who would’ve thought,” Yoongi beams, “that doing this movie would change our lives so much.”


“I thought it,” Namjoon counters and Yoongi rolls his eyes, mumbling a of course you did , to which Namjoon chuckles. “But not like this, hyung. I didn’t think it would change our lives like this.”


They don’t say anything else after that, comfortable in silence until Yoongi’s car arrives.

If he’s honest, Yoongi doesn’t remember the last time he went on a date. 


Ever since his career picked up, he hasn’t tried or looked for a relationship, having a few one night stands or five one night stands, but nothing too serious, so it takes him a while to come up with something interesting for them to do. 


Bowling ?” Jimin sneers through the phone. “ Are you sure that’s a good idea? We’re quite competitive people .”


“So?” Yoongi asks, smile on his face even if he’s stuck in traffic. “It’ll remind us of the good times when we bickered endlessly while playing War.”


If I remember correctly, playing War together led us to not speaking for an entire week ,” Jimin snorts. “ Also, aren’t we supposed to be finding new ways of connection?


“That doesn’t mean we should forget our history, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi counters. “Especially when our history includes me kicking your ass in every game.”


I beg your pardon ,” Jimin gasps in English, and Yoongi can’t hold in his laughter. “ We both suck at playing games and you know it .” 


Yoongi hums. “Well, I guess we’ll suck at playing games together this Friday night,” he announces and when Jimin doesn’t protest again, Yoongi’s smile widens. “I’ll pick you up at 7.” 


No, I’ll pick you up at 7. ” Jimin’s tone is firm, so Yoongi says okay . “ Give me your address. ” 

“Can you shut the fuck up?” Jimin whines, hands covering his face. 


Yoongi slaps his own thigh, body fully convulsing with the force of his laughter as Jimin’s ball rolls out without hitting any pins. “You suck at this.” 


“Fuck you,” Jimin whines, a pout forming on his lips as he flops back down next to Yoongi. “This is the worst first date ever.” 


“Spoke like a true sore loser,” Yoongi beams with a click of his tongue before standing up. “I have a surprise for you, though.”


Jimin’s eyes sparkle with interest. “You do?” After Yoongi nods, he smiles. “Depending on what is it, you might end up moving up a few spots in my first dates scale.” 


“I’m already first,” Yoongi says firmly before turning around to make his play. 


Jimin denies it, but the sound of his giggle tells Yoongi it’s complete bullshit. 


After a few more rounds and terrible performances from both of them, Yoongi admits defeat and Jimin sports a smug expression all the way back to his car. And Yoongi would normally find it annoying, but ever since Namjoon’s wrap party the week before, he realized that everything Jimin does is endearing to him. And also, he’s about to swipe that smugness right out of him. 


“What’s my surprise?”


Yoongi licks his lips, leaning against the passenger seat’s door. “Can I drive?”


“Are we going to get my surprise?” Jimin asks, but is already handing Yoongi the key - that is not really a key , but old habits die hard. Cars are so modern these days. 


“You can say that,” is what Yoongi replies, so deeply delighted. 


The way Jimin huffs in excitement makes a large smile spread across Yoongi’s face. He walks around the vehicle to the driver’s seat and waits until Jimin has bucked up to start the car. The younger man reaches out to turn on the radio and a K-Pop song blasts through the speakers, Jimin humming along contently. 


Yoongi wants to look at him, watch the way Jimin sings happily, but he has to pay attention to the road. He remembers so many years ago when he used to insist the only decent songs in the world were rap songs, and Jimin was so adamant in proving him wrong that every time he came to hang out at Yoongi’s, he would bring a new song. At first, Yoongi whined and told him to quit it with the “shitty music”, but after a while, he ended up really liking it. 


“I see you still like this type of music,” he mumbles teasingly. 


“Fancy you,” Jimin sings louder and Yoongi chuckles. 


He let’s Jimin’s beautiful voice and the singers on the radio be the only sounds inside the car, then, feeling the more excited now that they are so close to the actual date. Yoongi steals a glance at the younger man, lips turning up in a smile that probably looked a lot like a smirk. He really outdid himself with this one, and he’s not one to brag - much - about himself. 


Once they are a block away, Yoongi turns the volume of the radio down and half expects Jimin to complain because he was so into the song, but the man just looks at him. “You remember when we were younger and we used to go to the amusement park a lot?” Yoongi asks. “You loved to go up in the ferris wheel.”


“Of course I remember,” Jimin says, dragging out the words. “Why?”


Yoongi hums, doesn’t reply. He feels his heart beating so roughly against his ribs, can’t wait to see the look on Jimin’s face. The younger man crosses his arms, eyes squinting as he stares at Yoongi, but Yoongi doesn’t crack his expression. Instead, he parks the car on a very good spot in the corner of the place they are going to, strategically out of Jimin’s view.


But again, Jimin knows Seoul pretty well, so if he clicks two and two together, he could probably guess where they are going. Which is what he does only a few seconds later.


“Hyung, we can’t go to Lotte World,” Jimin blurts, watching with wide eyes as Yoongi opens the door to get out of the vehicle, looking over at the car who just parked behind them and sighs, nodding at Jimin’s bodyguard. “There’s too many people there,” Jimin continues, but opens his own door. 


Yoongi waits until the man is out of the car to arc an eyebrow, “Is there?”


Jimin frowns. “Yes,” he says, but it sounds more like a question than anything else. “No?” He tries and Yoongi giggles, rounding the car to join Jimin on the sidewalk. “What did you do?”


“You know,” he starts, putting his hands inside the pockets of his black jeans and starting to walk forward, Jimin next to him. “I may not be an Idol or anything, but I have somewhat of an influence.”


“Yoongi,” Jimin mutters slowly, a surprised grin spreading through his face. “Stop teasing me!”


They turn around the sidewalk and Lotte World comes to view. “You can’t enjoy amusement parks with the same intensity anymore because you’re too famous for that,” Yoongi explains, eyes on Jimin as the younger man stares at the park in front of them, completely void of anyone. “So I called in a favor and closed the best one in the city just for tonight, just for you.”


Jimin’s mouth is hanging open, hands clasped together, eyes not moving away from the park. He looks particularly good today, Yoongi thinks, with his very tight high-waisted jeans and a vibrant blue long-sleeve crop-top that’s almost sinful, eyelids painted in a delicate shade of brown. 


“You closed Lotte World for me,” Jimin babbles, eyes finally turning to look at him. “ The Lotte World.”


Yoongi nods, “Thought it wouldn’t be the worst thing capitalism has ever done.”


Jimin laughs, shaking his head. “I can’t fucking believe this, and you made me go bowling!”


“It was a distraction,” Yoongi argues. “But now we are here. Wanna go inside?”


“Fuck yes,” Jimin breathes out, hand reaching out to intertwine his fingers with Yoongi’s to pull him forward.


It’s the first time they’ve held hands since Jimin broke his ankle and Yoongi tried to console him when they were in the hospital. Jimin was 12 at the time, and so deeply upset he wouldn’t be able to participate in the dance festival of their school. Yoongi held his hand until he stopped crying and fell asleep. 


Yoongi would’ve held his hand the entire night if his parents hadn’t forced him to go home.


“This is insane,” Jimin exclaims as he waddles around the almost empty park, only a few workers who probably would rather be doing anything else there. The younger man looks so overwhelmed by the whole thing Yoongi feels extremely giddy. “I don’t even know where to go first.”


“Let’s go on the rollercoaster,” Yoongi suggests. “You used to be so scared of them.”


Jimin snorts. “I was not, you’re the one who was always scared of a little adventure,” he rebukes. “Or do you think I have forgotten about the day my parents invited you to come skydiving with us and you almost cried?”


Yoongi blushes a little and huffs. “The rollercoaster is over there, Dora.” 


The smile Jimin gives him paired up with the roll of his eyes makes Yoongi’s heart flutter again. 


When they make their way to the rollercoaster a young man approaches to help them buckle up and soon enough Jimin’s screaming and laughing at the same time, hands in the air as the machine spins them around. 


And even though Yoongi really is scared of rollercoasters, with Jimin by his side it doesn’t feel scary at all.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Jimin questions, head tilted to the side, pretty lips out of sight due to the cotton candy he holds in front of his face. 


Yoongi hums and chews the bite of his sandwich faster so he can reply. “Like what?”


“I don’t know,” Jimin says with a chuckle and a shrug of his shoulders. “Like you’re trying to see something.”


“That’s a movie like line,” Yoongi teases, wiggling his eyebrows. He clears his throat. “And that was the moment the characters realized without saying anything that this was what home felt like,” he mutters in a narrator kind of voice.


Jimin throws his head back, laughing out loud. His cheeks are flustered and there’s sweat on his face. They’ve been playing around Lotte World for hours and just now sat down to eat, both too tired and hungry to keep going. 


“You’re so stupid, hyung.” The younger man takes out another piece of the cotton candy and puts it on his mouth. “But you kinda were looking at me like that, though…”


Yoongi nods, heart beating steadily against his chest. “You always felt like home to me, Jimin.” Jimin gulps down, biting his lower lip when his cheeks turn even pinker. He’s adorable. Yoongi likes him a lot. “Even if this wasn’t a romantic thing,” he continues. “You’d still feel like home.”


“Even after all this time?” 




Jimin’s face breaks into a wide grin. “That one is actually a movie line.”


“I know,” Yoongi says, smiling back. “We watched it together.”


Growing up, one of the things both of them had in common was their love for Harry Potter. Yoongi will never forget Jimin sobbing next to him at the movie theatre after Dobby died. He was already whipped, head over heels, willing to die for Jimin, and all he wanted was to reach out and hug him.  And maybe that would’ve been fine because friends hug to comfort each other, but Yoongi was very paranoid about letting his feelings show, so he avoided touching Jimin at all costs.


Yoongi’s hand slides across the table and intertwines Jimin’s smaller fingers with his. “But really, Jimin-ah, it feels really good to be here with you right now.”


“It feels really good to be here with you right now too, hyung,” Jimin whispers, crescent eyes smiling. “Thank you for closing Lotte World for me.”


“No need to thank me, angel,” Yoongi replies, only half a second later realizing he said a pet name. Jimin blushes even harder. Yoongi smiles. “But you’re gonna plan our second date so you better outdo me.”


Jimin chuckles, pulling his hand back to grab another piece of cotton candy and Yoongi’s hand already feels wrong without the warmth of Jimin’s palm against his. “I’m gonna fly us out to New York and close Hollywood Boulevard for you.”


“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Park.”


“Good thing I’m not promising, just saying.”


Yoongi smiles for the millionth time that night. He feels so good, this feels so right. Jimin’s so beautiful. Yoongi likes him a lot. “You’re starting your next movie in a couple weeks, right?”


“Yeah! Just a few days after my birthday.” Jimin takes another piece of the candy into his mouth. “I’m throwing a party, by the way, and you are invited.”


“I am?” Yoongi repeats, not really surprised. “I’ll be there.”


Jimin hums. “You better. It’s been ten years since the last time I blew out a candle with you in the room.”


For some reason, that doesn’t sting. Yoongi expected it to since everything related to the years lost and deafening silence makes him wince. Yet this time, it doesn’t. Instead, it makes him sigh and cup Jimin’s face, wishing it was easy to kiss him right now, but since there’s a whole table between them, it isn’t. Jimin thinks differently, though, because a few seconds later he’s standing up and leaning in to give Yoongi’s lips a peck. 


Yoongi gives him a small smile, blush spreading fast, thumb still caressing Jimin’s cheek. “Is this gonna be easy?” He asks. Not because he’s afraid it won’t, but because he’s hoping it will. 


“Things were always easy between us, hyung,” Jimin reminds him. “Before the storm, before the calls that never came and the words that were never spoken. Things were easy.”


Jimin takes the last piece of candy and puts it in his mouth, eyes watching Yoongi. He’s not smiling, but he doesn’t have to be. Yoongi can see it in his eyes and in the way his body is relaxed, head leaning against his hand. He can feel it in the silence, and in the noise, and in the way Jimin intertwines their fingers when they walk out of the park. 

Because of the post production of Color Me Free, Yoongi doesn’t get to see Jimin again until his birthday party, which feels like being tortured. 


It was merely ten days, but they felt like years; not that he doesn’t understand that feeling also. But now, as he looks at himself in the mirror and styles his black hair in a way that shows his very rarely seen forehead, Yoongi remembers that old saying distance makes the heart grow fonder


And it’s not like they didn’t say goodbye properly. 


After they left Lotte World, Jimin drove Yoongi home and Yoongi would swear to anyone they were just talking one minute, but the next they were making out. And it was as fervent as the times before, in Namjoon’s home, even if a little more constricted since they were indeed inside a car, but still. It was good. He got hard. Jimin gasped into his mouth. He thought about asking the man to come out and uh, maybe doing something? They are adults, after all. But before he could Jimin moved away and took several deep breaths before saying, “ I have a shooting tomorrow morning ,” with a heavy pout displayed on his kiss-swollen lips. 


It’s okay ,” Yoongi had replied. “ We have time .”


They had texted a lot in those ten days, too, so it’s not like they weren’t talking. Just not seeing, or touching, or kissing. But that changes tonight; and that’s not presumptions of Yoongi, because Jimin said so himself.

Park Jimin sent you a text message

Miss your face AND your lips :<


You sent a text message



Park Jimin sent you a text message

18-year-old me is shaking

Gonna kiss you tonight ;)

So, he’s going to kiss Yoongi tonight. 


When he walks inside Jimin’s penthouse, Yoongi’s not really sure what to expect since the last time he attended one of his birthday parties, Jimin was still an unknown teenager. On the way here, he thought either Jimin has grown up to be someone who loves to throw extravagant parties, or someone who just invites the closest friends to have dinner. 


It’s somewhere in between.


Although there is loud music, a dance floor, shining lights and a cocktail bar, there isn’t many people there. As soon as he enters, Jung Hoseok embraces him and kisses his cheek before taking a step back with a large smile on his face. “Hyung! You arrived!”


“How are you already drunk?” Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head. 


Hoseok pouts. “I’ve been here for a couple hours, ok? I was helping Jiminie with his outfit, but decided to start drinking anyway.”


Yoongi hums, looking around the room in search of his-. Well, he doesn’t know what to call Jimin. Friend? Potential romantic partner? 




“Hyung!” Jimin exclaims, almost running in his direction. Yoongi’s lips stretch in a wide smile as he opens his arms to embrace the other man. Jimin hugs him tightly and Yoongi feels himself drowning on him. “I missed you.”


“Missed you too, sunshine,” Yoongi replies against his ear. 


Jimin pulls back and kisses him full on the mouth, causing a lot of whistling and shouts. Yoongi would be embarrassed in any other occasion, but right now it’s simply not important. All that matters is Jimin, and Jimin’s soft lips against his. 


It’s not an obscene kiss or anything, it doesn’t even have tongue, so when Jimin pulls back and looks into his eyes, it takes Yoongi everything in him not to crash their lips together again and kiss Jimin as deeply as he physically can. “Later,” Jimin whispers just to him, as if he knows exactly what’s in Yoongi’s mind. Maybe he can see the fire in his eyes. 


They decided not to hide what was going on between them from close friends, so Jimin just intertwines his fingers with Yoongi’s and pulls him to the middle of his living room. Namjoon’s there, and so is Jungkook, wrapped around his boyfriend. In a different corner Yoongi spots Shinee’s Taemin talking lowly with Taehyung. He didn’t know the idol was friends with Jimin. 


“Hyung, have you met Taemin-hyung?” Jimin asks, drawing the attention of the two men, who just smile at him. “We’ve been friends forever, we often dance together.”


“I haven’t had the pleasure, but I love your music,” Yoongi tells him, bowing. 


Taemin bows back. “Thank you so much.” The idol runs a hand through his hair. “I loved your move The Quest, looking forward to seeing what you guys did in Color Me Free. Such an important work.”


Yoongi feels his heart swell with pride. The Quest is his favorite child and knowing Jimin’s close friend, also a musician Yoongi has immense respect for, loved it, too, makes him very happy. 


Soon, he sees himself discussing movie storylines and the advance of K-Pop within the western market. Yoongi drinks a bit, talks a lot, holds Jimin’s hand a few times and even steals a peck or two as the night carries on.


He’s having so much fun he doesn’t even realize that almost everyone has left when Taemin gives him a sweet smile and mutters, “I should get going, but it was so lovely meeting you, Yoongi-yah.”


Yoongi looks around, sees there’s only Taehyung with a sleepy Hoseok in his lap and Seokjin talking with Jimin in the other sofa. 


“Time really flies, yeah?” Yoongi tells Taemin, who only chuckles. “It was great meeting you too, Taemin-ah, I hope you’ll consider my offer of trying out acting.”


“Maybe,” Taemin mutters. “Minho-hyung has been trying to convince me for years.”


“I’ve been trying too!” Jimin exclaims, making the two turn to look at him, who’s now standing alone since Seokjin decided to help Taehyung lift Hoseok up. “Hyung’s just too stubborn.”


“Look who’s talking,” Taemin mumbles, standing up and giving Jimin a hug. 


Yoongi says his goodbyes to everyone, feeling alcohol buzzing in his system. The waiter who helped serving tonight starts to take things to the kitchen when Jimin closes the door after waving bye to Taehyung, Seokjin, Taemin and a very sleepy Hoseok. 


Jimin turns to him, makeup a little borrowed on his face, but beautiful nonetheless. “Alone at last,” he mutters, wiggling his eyebrows in a way that makes laughter break out of Yoongi. “Not that they were bothering, but…” 


“I know,” Yoongi agrees, walking forward until his body’s close enough to Jimin’s. He rests his hands on the man’s tiny waist and pecks his lips. “Did you enjoy your party?” 


“I did,” Jimin tells him, leaning in to suck on Yoongi’s bottom lip, causing the man to gasp. “Let’s go to my bedroom, hyung,” he suggests. 


Yoongi stares at him, taking Jimin in. He turned 28 today. They have officially known each other for 18 years now. He saw Jimin go from chubby child, to packed teenager, to healthy beautiful adult. He has known him as his best friend, as his first love, as a bitter painful memory. And now? Jimin wants go take Yoongi to his bedroom. 


“Why do you look like I asked you a very complicated math question?” Jimin giggles, arms around Yoongi’s neck.


Yoongi hums, caressing his cheek. Jimin blinks, leaning in to the touch. “I was just thinking about us,” he replies. “Everything we’ve been.”


“To each other?” Jimin asks in a whisper and when Yoongi nods, he smiles softly. “I’m glad you’re not my past anymore, hyung. You’re my present.” Jimin turns his head to give Yoongi’s palm a kiss before leaning in and brushing his lips on Yoongi’s. “And my future, if so you want to be.”


I want to is on the tip of his tongue, but before he can answer, Jimin licks inside his mouth, kissing him deeply. Yoongi thinks he does it because he said it without thinking too much, maybe got scared Yoongi would say that’s moving too fast, that they shouldn’t think about the future now. And being the romantic he has always been, Jimin probably thinks there’s no better way to stop someone from talking than to rudely interrupt them with a searing kiss. Yoongi could stop him, tell him it’s okay, that they can talk about the future without being scared of breaking whatever bubble they placed themselves in, but he doesn’t. He lets himself be kissed, then lets himself be walked to a bedroom, then lets himself be undressed. 


Because he wants to, he has always wanted to. And now that he thinks about it, maybe he has never stopped hoping. 


Jimin’s hands travel down Yoongi’s sides and the older man’s breath hitches, goosebumps all over his body. It’s been a while since the last time Yoongi was touched like this, and especially long since someone looked at him like this.  Jimin’s mouth is parted, shining a bit with saliva from all of the kissing, eyes going down to where his hands touch, so entranced by whatever he’s seeing.


Yoongi wants to look down too, watch Jimin’s hands as they make their way along his very pale skin, but he can’t take his eyes away from Jimin’s face. When they were younger, Yoongi used to think Jimin was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen, and now, with a bit older version of his childhood friend kneeling shirtless between his legs, Yoongi doesn’t think it anymore; he knows.


“You’re so sensitive,” Jimin whispers when he reaches the waistband of Yoongi’s underwear and another wave of goosebumps go through his body. “I like it.”


“I used to hate it,” Yoongi confesses, eyes moving away from Jimin’s face and focusing on the ceiling. “There’s a whole process of normalization and acceptation that most queer people go through, in a lot of different ways, and mine was coming to terms with the fact that I’m extremely sensitive in sexual situations.”


Jimin hums, hands moving further down and caressing Yoongi’s inner thighs, which only make the older man gasp. “My process was long and had a lot of bumps,” Jimin shares. “One of them was bottoming.”


“You thought it made you less?”


“I don’t think the word less ever came to me specifically,” Jimin murmurs as he lowers himself and Yoongi holds his breath, watching as the man’s face disappears between his thighs. Jimin kisses him there and Yoongi licks his lips, expecting. “I just thought that it would hurt and I wouldn’t enjoy. And this is stupid, but I thought bottoming meant I had automatically to be submissive in bed, which was a turn off.”


Yoongi rests his weight on his elbows so he can look at him. “You’re into BDSM?”


Jimin raises his face a bit. “I’ve considered getting familiar with it, but not really, I just used the term submissive because it’s easier for explanation,” he says, smiling. “I just like to be in control, that’s all.”


“Always?” Yoongi wonders, curiosity pulsing in his veins.


“Not always,” Jimin says before lowering his head again. “But mostly.”


At that the younger man gives the head of Yoongi’s cock an open mouthed kiss, and even if it was over his boxes, Yoongi feels the pleasure coursing through him. He groans, throwing his head back and resting it again against the pillow. Jimin’s hands pinch the sensitive skin at Yoongi’s inner thighs and the older man squirms a bit.


“We haven’t talked about it,” Yoongi breathes out, the feeling of Jimin mouthing as his hard length over the briefs clouding his most rational thoughts. “Do you want to top?”


“I want everything,” Jimin replies, hands hooking on the waistband of Yoongi’s underwear and yanking it down to the middle of his thighs. Yoongi hisses when his erection is freed and hits his belly, hot and heavy. “I definitely want that inside me,” Jimin hums and Yoongi thinks he feels himself blush, but hard to tell. Maybe he’s just feeling hot. “Want to fuck you,” he admits in a low voice.


Yoongi breathes heavily at the words. “Then, please fuck me.”


Not much is said after that, apart from the pleads people blur out when they are too aroused to care much about the things they say or the noises that come out of their mouths. 


Yoongi doesn’t remember the last time he felt like this, or if he has ever. Jimin’s so patient opening him up, fishing his every reaction, asking if it’s good, if he wants more, slower, faster, deeper. He chuckles when Yoongi whines, and it’s not supposed to be mean or mockery; it’s like he can’t believe this is happening and he’s really with this person, three knuckles deep, hard cock restrained inside his briefs. 


And to be fair, part of Yoongi can’t believe it either. 


The hoping, and the longing, and the lust. He locked those inside of his heart and mind a long time ago, promised himself he would throw away the key. But then Jimin was just there again, and it felt like the fucking door was never even locked in the first place. 


And now, as he watches his childhood best friend roll the condom down his cock, arousal pulsing on his body so fiercely that he feels like he will explode at any minute, Yoongi can’t even think about what could have been. It doesn’t matter anymore. The idea of a future that never happened, mixed with the anger of a past he so deeply hates simply doesn’t matter anymore. 


It doesn’t matter because when Jimin pushes inside of him, a broken moan rips out of the younger man’s throat and Yoongi watches it as much as he feels it the way pleasure courses through Jimin once he bottoms out. 


It doesn’t matter because he has his legs around Jimin’s waist and the younger man goes slowly, letting Yoongi feel every drag of his cock, hands going up and down his sides, lips attached to his neck. 


It doesn’t matter because Yoongi moans, and Jimin does, too. Both overwhelmed by each other, and their push and pull, perfectly imperfect movements. Trained to go together, to mold together, to be together. 


It doesn’t matter because Yoongi’s not ashamed of asking for Jimin to go deeper, faster, he’s not afraid of being vulnerable, of whimpering and asking for more, of dragging his nails alongside Jimin’s sweaty back, of shuddering when the man moans against his ear. 


It doesn’t matter because when Jimin’s cock accidentally slips out, they laugh and say they would be terrible porn stars, having to eventually change positions because Yoongi isn’t cut out for the atlethics sex often requires. 


It doesn’t matter because once he’s belly down on the mattress, cock trapped between the sheets and his own body, Jimin fucking him from behind, chest flushed against his back, Yoongi sees stars. The kind of stars that make you speechless, that you know no photograph could make it justice, the kind you can’t explain to others, the kind you have to experience the sight for yourself, or you won’t get it. You won’t understand how beautiful they are. 


When Yoongi comes, it’s with a strangled moan that doesn’t sound sexy at all and would make him cringe if he could relive this moment later in a film. But Jimin. Oh, Jimin. “Don’t stop,” Yoongi begs him, and yes, it’s begging because he doesn’t know what he would do if Jimin stopped now, so he says it again. “Please, don’t stop.”


Jimin doesn’t, he keeps fucking into him, moaning beautifully, and nothing else matters to Yoongi - not the oversensitivity, not the mess his come has made of Jimin’s sheets, not the way his limbs ache. Nothing matters except the way Jimin chases his own release, dragging his cock in and out of him, the noises of lube, skin and pleasure filling the entire room. 


“Hyung,” he whines against his ear, hips faltering. 


“Baby,” Yoongi replies, hand caressing Jimin’s cheek as the man spills inside the condom, gasping. 


The blue neighbourhood they grew up in doesn't matter anymore. It doesn't control them anymore. It doesn't have power over them anymore.


That place is not home any longer. They are.

March 18th, 2025, PRESENT


“Does it look good here?” Yoongi asks, tilting his head to the side. 


Jimin hums, eyes narrowing. “I don’t know, hyung, it’s your award.”


“No, it’s ours,” Yoongi rebuts, kissing his boyfriend’s shoulder before wrapping his arms around him. Jimin rests his head against Yoongi’s. “And it’s our house, too.”


“We should put it in the bathroom,” Jimin suggests, making Yoongi gasp. “I’m serious! That’s where everyone should leave their Oscars.”


Yoongi chuckles. Maybe he’s right. 


Namjoon had said he would leave his at his mother’s home, while Hoseok said he would place his right next to the Melon he got for producing for TWICE last year. And those are great placements for such an Award, but Yoongi feels like putting it next to his television is so blasé. 


Jimin’s bathroom idea is good. 


“People can come visit us and have their Oscar moment,” his boyfriend suggests. “I want to thank the Academy and all that shit, I heard that’s what Kate Winslet did with hers.”


Yoongi had thanked the Academy briefly in his acceptance speech, but Namjoon was the one who spoke the most since he’s fluent in English, and they didn’t really expect to win so Yoongi didn’t have a great speech prepared. It hadn’t been a long time since a Korean movie had one Best Foreign Film with Parasite taking not only this award, but also Best Screenplay, Best Director and Best Picture home in 2020, so it caught them all by surprise to hear Color Me Free be announced the winner. 


It’s been only a month since then and Yoongi’s professional life has taken off in ways he never thought possible. 


 “Are we really gonna put the Oscar in the bathroom?” He mumbles and laughs when Jimin does. 


“We absolutely are,” Jimin says firmly, turning around in his arms and pecking his lips. “Who would’ve thought all those years ago when we met that we would end up being roomies with an Academy Award in our bathroom .”


Yoongi raises an eyebrow, hands sliding inside Jimin’s shirt, holding his waist. “Roomies?” 


“Yes, buddy. What else do you think we are?” Jimin tilts his head, feigning confusion. “Lovers?”


“Could’ve fooled me with all that I love you, let’s move in together and adopt a cat shit.”


Jimin giggles, kissing him full on the lips. “I love you,” he whispers, smile bright. 


“I know,” Yoongi replies, shit-eating grin on his lips.  


His boyfriend narrows his eyes. “Next time you reply to my I love you with I know I’m going to move out.”


“And leave me alone with the bathroom Oscar?” Yoongi asks, gasping in fake shock. 


Jimin rolls his eyes, smile still on display, and detaches himself from Yoongi, causing the older man to grumble a complaint. “You’re so needy,” Jimin clicks his tongue, moving to grab the Award and walking towards the downstairs bathroom.


“Hey,” Yoongi calls out and his boyfriend turns around, Academy Award in hand, black hair styled back, the most beautiful person Yoongi has ever laid eyes on. His heart still beats faster whenever Jimin looks at him. “I love you, Jimin. I always have, I always will.”


Jimin smile gets wider, eyes turning into crescent moons before he mutters, as sweetly as humanly possible, “I know.”