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Reach A Little Higher

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“We should be back around 10. You two will be ok ‘till then, right?” Namjoon had his head poking out of the doorway, getting ready to leave with the rest of the members for a variety show appearance. Yoongi and Jimin, the lucky bastards, on the other hand, didn’t need to go and could laze around all they wanted in the dorm for three hours.

Yoongi waved his hand dismissively from an awkward backwards angle with his face already smushed into the couch, intent on taking a quick, much-needed nap. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll be fine. Get going already.”

Jimin looked up from his phone, aiming his trademark megawatt smile towards their leader. “We’ll be alright, hyung. See you guys later!”

Namjoon hummed, nodding with a quick smile and murmured back a “seeya” and slipped out the door. Not even a minute had passed since he left, and already, there were soft, muffled snores coming from the red-haired boy with his face becoming one with the sofa cushion. Jimin let out a high-pitched peal of laughter seeing this, causing the older boy to resurface with a grunt.

“What’s so funny?” he muttered, squinting at the younger.

“Hyung,” Jimin whined, “how can you sleep already? It’s only 7!” And with that, he stood up and proceeded to try and drag the other up by the arm. “Come onnnn, I’m booored.” Yoongi groaned in return, and pulled Jimin down on the other half of the cushion. “I’m tired, let hyung sleep for a few minutes.”

The younger of the two huffed, crossing his arms. “Fine, but at least let me play some music while you’re sleeping so I don’t die of boredom.” With Yoongi’s drowsy reply of “go crazy”, the dancer excitedly ran over to their iPod dock and scrolled quickly through the different playlists. Although, in consideration of the sleeping bear a few feet away from him, he made sure to only have soft ballads play for a while, soothingly singing along.

After looping the same sad songs for a while, Jimin let out a tired huff and changed the playlist to a more danceable, upbeat one. Excitedly moving to the music, he tiptoed back over to the sleeping Suga.

Bent over the dozing figure, he probed at and prodded at his fellow member insistently. “Hyuuung,” Jimin whined. “It’s past dinnertime, I’m hungrrryyyy.” After a particularly strong jab to the side, Yoongi woke up with a grunt.

Sitting up and rubbing furiously at the part in which he had practically been assaulted, he grumbled, “The one time where I don’t have a schedule and have the opportunity to catch up on only two hours of sleep, you—” Yoongi stopped mid-sentence seeing Jimin’s dejected look.

A beat passed between them. Yoongi sighed, slowly bringing up a hand to smother his own face. “What did you want?”

“Hyung, I’m hungry. Make me something,” the younger replied, pulling out the sickeningly sweet, wide grin that made his eyes pretty much disappear, a face that the fans and Yoongi (although he’d never admit it out loud) could never resist, which was a fact that Jimin was actually well aware of.

The rapper frowned slightly. “I am not going near a stove without Jin’s supervision. Especially with you around.”

“Please, hyung,” Jimin implored. “We can make it together, ok? I feel like my stomach's going to cave in from the emptiness.”

The older rolls his eyes. “Alright, alright.” Yoongi stands, stretching his sore arms high over his head. “I think there’s a box of pasta in the cupboard, let’s have that.”

Jimin gave an excited squeal, that may or may not have enticed a small, fond smile out of Yoongi, and ran over to the kitchen. The elder of the two shook his head and chuckled, walking after him at a much slower pace.

“You said the pasta was in this cupboard above the sink, right?” Jimin asked, fingers already outstretched towards said cupboard. Yoongi nodded, going over to stand by the other.

But, there it was, where their little predicament started. Even on his tippy-toes and arm stretched out to grab at the cupboard’s handle, Jimin was still a couple inches short from being able to open it.

After a few seconds of trying to swipe at the handle, eyebrows furrowed and tongue slightly peeking out in determination, the younger huffed and let his already aching arm down. Why the heck do I have to be so short?

“Ah, I can’t reach it,” Jimin sighed. “Hyung, why don’t you try?”

Yoongi, who had been watching amusedly at the singer’s ordeal for quite some time, shrugged while smiling. “Move aside, shorty.”

Ignoring Jimin’s mumbled retort of “you’re only one inch taller than me”, Yoongi also reached up on his tip-toes towards the handle. And, lo and behold, he couldn’t reach it either.

Letting out an irritated grunt, the not-at-all-that-much-taller rapper fumbled for the stupid handle that was the only way into them getting their dinner. Honestly, he took far longer than Jimin at trying to open the goddamn cupboard (Who the hell built them up this high anyway?) and was already risking his manly pride in front of his little dongsaeng. Muttering darkly under his breath, he started even jumping a little, to no avail, in order to get the little door to swing open.

Jimin snickered at Yoongi’s struggling, earning a glare from the older, before gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “Alright, hyung, face it, we both can’t reach it.”

Yoongi sighed and lowered his arm. “Well, you’re hungry aren’t you? We don’t have much else to cook anyway.” He stepped back and let Jimin resume his place at the front of the sink. Thinking a little to himself, he was suddenly struck with a bit of an idea, causing a sly smile to spread across his face. He quietly shuffled over to the iPod dock just as Jimin had started reaching for the cupboard again.

Without looking back or noticing what Yoongi was up to, Jimin was saying, “Hey, hyung, just get me a chair and we’ll get it that way. Why didn’t we do that in the fir—”

The singer let out a small yelp of surprise at the feeling of warm, thin arms encircling his waist. He was suddenly hyper-aware of the soft breaths tickling his neck and the iPod softly playing a slow, romantic Latin beat in the background, one that he remembered Taehyung liking while it played at a department store they were recently in.


Yoongi’s arms retracted until his hands were firmly placed on either sides of Jimin’ waist, and he swiftly but gently lifted Jimin a few feet up in the air until he was face-to-face with the door of the cupboard. “Now, you can reach it,” the older said softly. Ignoring his steadily reddening face, Jimin quickly retrieved the box that was the cause of so much struggling, and waited until Yoongi lowered him just enough to be able to set the pasta down on the counter. And, without warning, Yoongi lifted him up in the air again, turned around with a flourish, and set him lightly back down on his feet again, a few feet away from the sink.

But, he still hadn’t let go of Jimin’s waist, and when the younger made to move away slightly, Yoongi still had one hand holding on tightly while to other grasped for Jimin’s left hand.
Cokcing his head slightly in the direction of the still playing iPod, Yoongi asked, grinning, “Yah, Jimin, you know how to waltz?”

Still feeling a little dazed, he gaped at his hyung incredulously, the younger shook his head and replied, “No, I don’t, hyung, but even if I did, this isn’t a song that you’d waltz to! I think this is more for tango dancing.”

Yoongi scoffed. “You don’t even know how to waltz and you think that you can tango to this?”

“Well, do you know how to waltz then, hyung?” Jimin countered.

The other shrugged. “I’ve seen it on TV all the time. They just step around, counting one, two, three a bunch of times, and the girl has one hand on the boy’s shoulder while the boy’s hand is on her waist. Their other pair of hands are interlocked and in the air. It’s simple.” With that being said, he placed Jimin’s hand carefully on his right shoulder while placing his own right hand on the younger’s waist.

Before he could twine the fingers of their other hands together, the younger whined, “Why do I have to play the girl’s role?”

“Because you’re one inch shorter.”

Wishing he could wipe the -eating grin off Yoongi’s face, Jimin rolled his eyes and relented, muttering under his breath. So, Yoongi proceeded to interlock their fingers and hold them up in the air, his ears slightly reddening at the action. Both of them subconsciously took a deep breath each and they were off, stepping around in their little dorm kitchen to the Latin music pouring from the iPod speakers.

There was continuous stepping on one another’s feet (most of them courtesy of a certain Min Yoongi, poor Jimin) and fast swerving around the furniture as Yoongi repeatedly counted “one two three” under his breath and much, much laughter.

As the music came to a dramatic end, Yoongi spun Jimin around once with a flourish, and they both stood face-to-face, breathing hard from laughing so much and “waltzing” so quickly around the small space.

Jimin glanced up to see Yoongi smiling tenderly at him and before he could even utter a sound, he felt surprisingly soft lips chastely covering his own. Blinking his eye closed, he delicately kissed back, feeling his hyung’s lips stretch into a slight smile against his own. After a few more seconds, Yoongi pulled back, and what slightly irked Jimin the most was that the other didn't look embarrassed or shy in the slightest while Jimin was positive his face looked like a tomato at the moment. In fact, Yoongi’s eyes were so incredibly soft and affectionate even, that Jimin only blushed harder.

The rapper chuckled at the younger’s reaction and gently brushed their noses together, once, twice. They remained like that for several seconds, softly smiling at one another, before Jimin’s stomach gave quite a loud growl, startling them both. Suga laughed, and at first, Jimin had slightly flushed, but after a bit, he laughed, albeit sheepishly, along.

“Ah, hyung, I’ll get started on the dinner then.”

Yoongi hummed in agreement, and went over to look through the iPod, but his mind kept replaying their little moment from before. he supposed that their feelings for each other were now out in the open…

“Hyung? The directions say we need about three quarts of water... Quarts? Do we even own measuring cups?”

Needless to say, that was how the rest of the members found them a few hours later, asleep and snuggled side by side on the couch, legs up on the coffee table and tangled with one another’s with Chinese takeout boxes resting besides them.