Jimin wasn’t a prude, he just liked saving his firsts for everything for someone special.
While Taehyung and Jeongguk found their first kisses and first relationships with each other underneath a mock mistletoe during theatre, Jimin was still nineteen years old and hasn’t even had the confidence to hold someone’s hand. It’s not that he didn’t like the idea, no, but he hasn’t quite found someone who would be able to comfortably put their hand in his own (and that was saying something, considering the boy had small palms and chubby fingers) and even though Taehyung would make fun of him, saying something along the lines of ‘you’re going to be the forty year old virgin in our class’ and Jeongguk would agree with loud laughter, Jimin was happy for the choices he’s made to keep someone special for him.
He only wanted the best and that wasn’t so hard to ask for.
That is, until Min Yoongi walked into his life.
Min Yoongi was a walking ticking time bomb, exuding nothing short of a hard-ass in the form of kitten-like eyes and small stature (he was only two centimeters taller but still looked down at Jimin with darkened eyes and a smirk that made the younger want to punch clean off his face) with a temper that flared spontaneously, giving whiplash to all the ones who were unfortunate enough to stand in his way.
They were polar opposites. While Jimin had crescent-shaped eyes that would disappear when he smiled, Yoongi had eyes that looked like the deep trenches of the ocean waters and Jimin hasn’t ever seen him smile, just smirk, and that was enough to steer Jimin away.
Yoongi had a liking for music—producing, rapping, Maschine filled projects—that only gave Jimin a headache when he asked ‘what are all the buttons for?’ and a laziness that was present almost ninety-five percent of the time, but nobody could disprove that Yoongi wasn’t a hard-worker. Out of everyone in their circle, Yoongi was the one who stayed up most nights to finish deadlines and meet requirements. Even when everyone was practically begging the older to come out and play, he would just shake his head and say that he had other important things to take care of and he wasn’t going to spend his wasted money on the likes of his friends.
(“It’s just a project, hyung.”
“Without hard work, it means nothing.”)
Jimin on the other hand loved dancing and all forms of it (okay, so maybe not tap dancing because Jimin was considerably clumsy and every time he had tried to get the right footing, he would stumble on the heels of his shoes) but his love for urban hip hop, ballet, contemporary and sometimes even the broadway recitals that their university’s theatre would hold, Jimin was all game for.
(“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Hyung, you don’t understand the beauties and complexities of ballet. And, it’s just like you said, without hard work, it means nothing.”
“Shut up, brat. You sound like a pretentious asshole.”)
So, when their relationship blossomed, it was like a Spring flower opening it’s petals in the middle of winter and it was a shock that no one had expected. Jimin didn’t expect it either, he will be honest, because if anything he didn’t think his special someone would be a lazy, rude, un-romantic loser with a terrible sense of humor, but Jimin didn’t deny the fact that even though all those insults fit the description quite well, Yoongi was hard-working, loving, caring and sometimes even animated (if you caught it in the right moments) which made Jimin fall in love with all his flaws and his perfect unperfected intentions.
Yoongi was special to Jimin. Just like Jimin was special to Yoongi.
First Time Holding Hands
Jimin should’ve known that he didn’t expect nothing less from Yoongi, if anything, he should’ve been more careful.
They were both sitting in Yoongi’s recording studio on the second floor of the Music Building. It was finals week and Yoongi was trying his hardest to get his tracks out on time. Namjoon had been slacking off, saying he had stomachaches from all the dishes that Seokjin made him—Yoongi knew it was only an excuse to spend more time with Seokjin, but he let his music partner indulge anyway—so it left the older to sit in the recording studio for five hours longer, mixing down tracks until he finally found the right one.
Jimin was there to keep his hyung company, since he had finished all his studying and had his last exam just two hours before. It was boring and he was getting impatient. Yoongi had promised him that they would get dinner after he was done, but it’s been quite a long time since that promise has been made and the younger was contemplating just leaving and getting dinner himself.
“Hyung, I’m really bored.” Jimin whines from behind Yoongi, trying to examine all the different boxes and colors on the screen, but in the end giving up because it all looked the same. “Are you almost done?”
Yoongi, already used to Jimin’s impatience, nods his head, “Just give me ten more minutes, I’m waiting for it to finish exporting.”
“You said that ten minutes ago.”
“Jimin,” Yoongi sighs with a slouch in his shoulders, “it’s a big project, I promise we’ll get food after.”
Jimin decides to not bother any longer, settling himself back on the couch and throwing his legs over the tops of the cushions. He stares at the ceiling for what seemed longer than the duration of time Yoongi had mentioned, but he keeps silent anyway.
He looks around the room, glancing at every corner that he had already been accustomed to, but finds himself interested in the small piano on the other side of the studio. He takes a long look at Yoongi, noting that the other won’t be too bothered in him playing around, so he gets up from the couch, feet softly trudging towards the piano and sits on the bench. He looks back at his hyung, waiting for him to deject Jimin’s intentions but when nothing comes out of his lips, Jimin turns back around and presses a black key.
Silence ensues after. Well, besides Yoongi’s breathing and fingers clicking on the mouse, but Yoongi doesn’t say anything at the noise.
Jimin presses two keys this time, more brave, and then sticks his foot on the pedal below, dragging out the sound just a little longer than the first time. Once again, Jimin was expecting Yoongi to say something, something like ‘shut the fuck up and be quiet’ or ‘will you quit?!’ but none of the words leaves the older’s lips, so Jimin comfortably settles on the bench, fixing his posture so it was straighter, fingers hitched up and gentle. Like Beethoven, yeah, I’m Beethoven.
He presses a key here, a key there, but then a sudden urge sparks in his skin and he needed it be fulfilled.
After just the small touches on the piano, Jimin thinks maybe he could get away with trying a small melody, so Jimin—all but softly—bangs his whole entire hand amongst the piano keys, resonating a loud cacophony of fucked up harmonies and discordance, making Yoongi snap his head up in shock at the sound. Jimin jumps up in his bones, scaring himself as well and turns around with widened eyes.
“What the fuck are you doing? You nearly made me shit myself!” The older yells, flashing a glare at the younger.
“I-I’m sorry,” Jimin sheepishly mutters out, almost letting out a snicker when Yoongi puts a hand over his chest to slow down the rate of his heartbeat, “I don’t know how to play.”
“Fucking obviously.” Yoongi spits back, turning himself back around to face the computer. The glare from the screen illuminated off on Yoongi’s face, the scowl still present but looked more intimidating now that it was highlighted with the hues.
Jimin decides the piano wasn’t the best bet and laying on the couch was.
He was about to get up and walk over, but then Yoongi stands up with the scowl wiped off his face (although, still a little irritated) and makes his way over to Jimin, who was expecting to be yelled at or nagged, but the older just sits on the bench next to Jimin and presses his fingers against the keys.
And, what happens next is probably one of the most beautiful sights Jimin has ever seen on Yoongi.
Yoongi plays, but he doesn’t just play, the older is making sounds, amazing, pretty and wonderful sounds and Jimin couldn’t help but stare with a gaping mouth and surprised eyes.
It’s a melody that starts off soft, the sound comparable to the singing of mermaids, fairies flying amongst a cloud of rainbows and glitter, hell, maybe it’s even like a soundtrack to a fairytale, and it sweeps Jimin into a trance of amazement and awe. Then the sound gets deeper, darker, and floods in with sadness that Jimin couldn’t quite put his finger on, but the powerful waves of the deep chords strike something inside of him and he finds himself frowning, upset, and wonders if this is Yoongi playing his emotions. If this is the older making the soundtrack to his life and not necessarily just playing something off the top of his head.
Jimin watches the swift movements of fingers grazing along white and black, dragging his gaze from the bottom of the piano where a foot shifts up and down, off and on, and then settles his wonder on the older’s features. The music is shown on Yoongi’s face, expression dark and melancholic, a beautiful mix of delicate but strong, soft and hard, and everything that Jimin thinks encompasses Yoongi.
And, then the sound stops, and Jimin is a stuttering mess, but he holds it in when the older stares.
“I’ll teach you a part. Give me your hand.”
And, then Jimin finds himself stuttering again, but this time stammering, wobbling over the breadth of Yoongi’s fingers prickling—just barely, over his own fingers and he draws back his hand at the touch. It feels like electricity flowing through his veins, sparking just that much more when the older takes Jimin’s hand in his and wraps the long, steady and firm fingers over the younger’s small, short and chubby ones.
“I said come here, Jimin.”
He’s trying, he’s trying, but the feel of how comfortable and right Yoongi’s hand feels wrapped up in his, has his mind reeling because this doesn’t feel like anything tamed, it feels like astonishment, it feels good and so Jimin finally closes his eyes, letting the touch course through him and allows himself to get pulled gently, closer, to Yoongi’s body.
Yoongi does teach Jimin how to play, but Jimin stumbles on himself when the older wraps an arm around Jimin’s waist, causing him to knock his head back and hit Yoongi in the high peaks of his cheek.
(Yoongi complains all the way to dinner, saying how incompetent and rude Jimin was. But silently, he felt the same electricity, he was just better at hiding it than Jimin was.)
After the whole incident of hand grazing and Jimin being a mess, Yoongi finally decides to ask the younger out on a date. They’ve shared the same feelings towards each other for months now—Hoseok swears that it’s been longer than that, but the both of them don’t admit to it—and Jimin agrees with a flash of a shy smile.
“Where are we going, hyung?”
“To do stuff.”
“You’ll see, now stop asking questions.”
Jimin didn’t quite expect his first date to start out like this, with Yoongi still seemingly in a bad mood, which was normal, but he at least expected the older to act different. It was their first date, Jimin’s first date, and he imagined it to start off a little happier. But, he figures he doesn’t mind Yoongi’s grumpiness, he was used to it anyway.
Jimin has heard of the Sky Rose Garden before, from Taehyung who’s always been begging Jeongguk to take him since he found out, but Jimin never expected to come here with Yoongi. In fact, he was expecting maybe just a relaxed date to a movie (which they did do, but a surprise lingered after), a walk to a corner restaurant to get cheap food or drinks at a convenience store before heading to the park —but he definitely didn’t expect the beautiful skylit garden that rose from the eighth floor of Daehan Cinema.
“Why are we going to the eighth floor, hyung?”
“You ask too many questions, you know that Jimin? Just trust me.”
And, when the elevator doors opened and revealed the array of different colored roses, Seoul City landscape over the ledge of the roof and a intimate looking patio off to the side, Jimin was more than impressed.
He was touched.
Yoongi shoves his hands in the pocket of his jeans, cheeks flushed in embarrassment because this has got to be the corniest fucking thing he’s ever done, especially for Jimin but the other looked like he didn’t care and if anything, looked like he was enjoying his time. So, Yoongi closes his eyes, pushes the shame into the back of his mind and grabs Jimin’s hand in his own before they walk across the expanse of the garden.
(Jimin doesn’t jump away from the touch this time, in fact he’s the one that wraps his fingers, intwining their grasp just that much closer.)
“These roses are beautiful hyung!”
Just like you, Yoongi thinks.
“They’re smell so good! And, look there’s more on the other side!”
I’m glad you’re happy, Jimin.
“Look at Namsan tower! It’s so pretty from here!”
I want to kiss you.
Their date ends well, sitting just a few moments longer in the patio with gazes out at Seoul’s busy streets and the towering edifice that is Namsan, but they soon leave after eight thirty, the rooftop closing it’s attraction with Jimin complaining that it was so short with Yoongi retorting with ‘you’re really hard to please, you know that brat?’ But, nonetheless, Jimin was happy.
Jimin decides that even though this first date didn’t go as he had first expected, spontaneity was the better of the bet. And, he wouldn’t change back time if he were given the option.
Not with Yoongi smiling as wide and as big as he was at the end of the night. But, Jimin also thinks that the best part of the date was that and not the rose garden, scenery and lights, it was the mere joy of seeing Yoongi’s gummy smile and the beauty of it lingers in his head even after they left.
(It’s also because Taehyung found out and threw a tantrum with Jeongguk flashing a glare at Jimin.
“They went before us, Jeongguk!”
Jimin definitely won this round.)
It happened on the way back from the Sky Rose Garden, when Jimin was least expecting it.
Yoongi is standing on the porch of Jimin’s small home (one he shared with Taehyung), hands shoved into his jean pockets—a habit he did when he was nervous—and Jimin standing by the doorway looking as beautiful as ever.
“Hyung, what're you thinking?”
I’m thinking about how to kiss you.
“I’m thinking about how you’re a nuisance and you’re a pain in the ass to take care of.” Comes out instead.
Jimin gives a huff of breath, irritated at the insult but he doesn’t let it bother him. Today was a good day, a great day if he wants to be more honest, and he still had the familiar flutter of butterflies in his stomach with a mood filled with content. He’s at bliss.
“Okay, I’m going to head in now. I’m tired, hyung.” Jimin says softly, turning his back around to unlock his front door. He doesn’t expect much of anything else, already thinking that was the end of his surprises but Yoongi was always great at being unpredictable, it seems.
When Jimin turns around wondering why the older had called his name, Yoongi is suddenly a mere few inches away from his face, hot breath dancing along the crevices of his lips and Jimin gasps at the close proximity.
It’s too close, close enough for Jimin to taste the mild scent of cinnamon and hot heat on his tongue, and close enough for him to hear the other’s breathing. It’s calm, the nervous pitch hidden because Jimin was too focused on Yoongi’s eyes. Eyes that were ready to unravel him, holding his gaze with firm attention and Jimin thinks that nothing else matters in this moment.
Not the sound of passing cars, the sound of the wiring in his head creaking to a sudden stop, the sound of his heart racing in his ears, no, the only sound that mattered was Yoongi.
“Hyung, what’re you going to do—”
And, he’s cut off with sparklers, igniting loudly in the night. It’s the sound that two mouths meet, softly and it resembled much of an angel’s kiss, make, and Jimin was soaring high in the clouds at the deafening moment.
Yoongi presses his lips against Jimin’s own, stealing the breath out of the younger’s throat, caving in at the touch of fire and this feels so fucking right and holds his hand steady on the fragile hips that collide with his own.
Jimin, on the other hand, feels voltages of blinding white. It shocks his system so he doesn’t breathe, not for moments that felt like eternity and when he does finally catch his breath, he’s leaning on the frame of the door with his head cocked to the side so he could taste more, more of the dynamite erupting on his lips and he gasps when Yoongi’s tongue flickers at his bottom lip.
He’s never kissed anyone before, but Yoongi leads the way into something spectacular and Jimin feels like this isn’t his first. It feels like it’s habitual, normal, something that he’s—they’ve—done before countless of times. It doesn’t feel foreign, and Jimin happily opens his mouth so that the other can access more of what he can give, if anything, he needs it.
It’s perfect, clumsy, but perfect.
Jimin can feel the fire that burns so hotly in his chest and the touch of Yoongi’s mouth on his, all the more. They kiss longer than they should, considering swollen lips and flushed cheeks, but when it does end Jimin is gasping, begging, needing, wanting more but Yoongi ends it all with a chaste kiss on the younger’s cheek and a small smile adorning his lips.
“Was that okay?” The older asks, soft pants leaving his mouth and it lands on Jimin’s nose, causing him to laugh softly at the touch.
“That was more than okay, Yoongi. That was perfect.”
(Their second date was bungee jumping and quite frankly, Jimin has never felt the need to punch Yoongi in the face more than this. He decides he hates Yoongi, that Yoongi was the devil’s reincarnate himself and he was a terrible person that only did terrible things.
But, the previous thought ends with their second kiss.
And, Jimin is back at deciding that Yoongi was a gift from heaven.
Yoongi was, once again, perfect.)
First Fights With First Tears
Jimin is turning twenty. Legal age and that meant legal enough to drink.
Yoongi doesn’t like the idea in the least, considering that the younger didn’t have the common sense when he was sober, and Yoongi doesn’t like the idea of how Jimin would be like when he was ‘fucked up out of his mind’ as said by Taehyung and Hoseok and also didn’t want to see how it would turn out. But, he allows himself to remain calm even when they entered the club of bustling sweaty bodies and a loud Jimin, cheering endlessly about how he’s excited to have his first shot of soju, or a cocktail, or maybe even a glass of rum.
“You’re not drinking rum. You won’t even like the taste, Jimin.”
“Don’t be a debby downer, hyung.”
The response that Yoongi gives is seething, keeping his lips in a thin line and his jaw clenching in irritation when the sudden downpour of flashing lights, loud music with a terrible DJ flood through his ears, but Jimin, Hoseok, Taehyung, and Namjoon look as though they were more than impressed. They were indulging in the sway of drunken bodies with drunk conversations and Yoongi finds himself seated at the bar with all of them screaming about how it was Jimin’s—Yoongi’s fucking boyfriend, by the way—birthday.
The bartender cheers, turning heads with the shout of ‘legal and ready to fucking party!’ which in return, makes a flood of strangers huddle over the counter with the idea of buying shots for the birthday boy. Yoongi almost loses his mind when Jimin knocks his first shot of soju (at least it wasn’t rum) and downs another shot of tequila with the same speed.
“How does that feel, birthday boy!” Hoseok yells, clapping a hand down over Jimin’s back and laughing when the boy winces from the slight burn of alcohol.
“It’s disgusting, but I want more.”
Yoongi holds his hand out on top of Jimin’s, cutting off the younger’s movement to reach for another glass of soju, and shakes his head. “Not right now, you’re going to throw up at the rate you’re going.”
Don’t be a debby downer, hyung.
Jimin ignoring the warning, proceeds to take the shots. Yoongi’s irritation spikes, and only more so when Hoseok pulls Jimin onto the dance floor, brushing off Yoongi with a big smile and a ‘just let him have fun, he only turns twenty once.’
Yoongi lets off, letting Hoseok and Taehyung grab onto Jimin’s hands to pull him in the center of the floor. He decides to just sit at the bar with Namjoon—who was taking shots and texting Seokjin at the same time—while Yoongi doesn’t touch any sort of drink, not even water, because he was focused on Jimin’s wellbeing. Like a mom protecting his son, Namjoon said, but Yoongi replies with a boyfriend projecting his boyfriend, you fucker.
“Why are you so tense?” Namjoon asks, leaning his mouth closer to Yoongi’s ear so he could be heard. “Loosen up and take a shot with me, you’ll feel better about this whole thing if you do.”
“No thanks, but I’d like to be sober enough to take care of Jimin if he gets out of hand.”
Namjoon scoffs, slipping his phone into his pocket before shaking his head, “Alright, whatever you say man.”
All the repeated choruses of how it was Jimin’s birthday, let Jimin have fun, let Jimin do this without you complaining, and the like was mildly starting to anger Yoongi, but his anger immediately turns into violent infuriation when he sees his friends on the dance floor—sees Jimin—with a stranger pressed against the line of his ass and hands that are running dangerously close to his hips and only traveling lower.
“Get your fucking hands off him.” Yoongi spits, holding onto the stranger’s hand so that he would stop all movements of touching Jimin further. “He’s drunk for crying out loud.”
Namjoon follows close behind, eyes darting from Hoseok to Taehyung at the scene, “Hyung, it’s okay. Jimin is just having fun.” he says, voice inching closer to being drenched in nervous tones when Yoongi shakes his head, ripping the stranger’s hands off of Jimin’s body.
Jimin way too drunk out of his mind, places a shaky hand on Yoongi’s shoulder, pushing him away gently from the oncoming argument before saying, “Yoongi stop.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Yoongi shouts back, throwing Jimin’s hand off his shoulders before pressing a finger to the younger’s chest. “You’re too fucked up to even realize what you could’ve gotten into. You don’t even know this guy!”
“What the fuck are you doing?” The stranger asks, calling for Yoongi’s attention before pushing on his shoulder. “Listen to your friends, who the fuck are you?”
“I’m his fucking boyfriend.”
“Seems like he’s not interested in you anymore, kid. Let off and let him do whatever he wants.”
Yoongi doesn’t see anything but red at this, turning his attention to the stranger with eyes that darken over a pool of anger and fierce annoyance.
“Don’t put your hands on me, you fucking prick.” Yoongi lashes out, pushing the other with a harsh shove. “You don’t fucking touch me or him.”
Hoseok jumps out at this, holding onto Yoongi’s waist to pull him away from the fight, Taehyung is holding onto Jimin (who was screaming at Yoongi to stop) and Namjoon stepped outside to call Seokjin about how they might’ve needed a rider earlier than expected.
“Your boyfriend doesn’t want you. He was having fun with me before you turned up and ruined the fun.”
Yoongi breaks from Hoseok’s grip, shooting a powerful punch at the stranger’s jaw. Who the hell was this guy and who gave him the right to say what Jimin wanted and didn’t want? Jimin was drunk. Pain flares from his knuckles down his wrist, but all he sees is the blurring vision of his boyfriend and friends grappling wildly at him in an effort for him to stop. He doesn’t, instead he lands another punch and finds himself cursing loudly at everyone who dared tried to break up the fight.
Heads start turning, yelling, screaming at the commotion and before Yoongi knows it, he’s being manhandled out of the club by a security guard and threats of him potentially getting arrested and charged with battery if he doesn’t leave in an instant. Yoongi retorts with more screaming but Namjoon tries his hardest to console the security guard in not calling the police, to which he agreed as long as they didn’t try to come back inside.
In the end, they all get escorted out of the club and Yoongi is too angry to understand Jimin’s upset complaints about how Yoongi ruined his night and his birthday.
“What?” Yoongi asks in disbelief once they were all outside, “I did this for you. And now you’re going to tell me that I fucked up? I was trying to fucking protect you.”
“That’s the thing, Yoongi. I don’t need to be protected! It was a bad idea to bring you here. I should’ve known you were going to mess this all up.” Jimin slurs out, throwing his hands in the air. “You only think for yourself and not anyone else!”
Yoongi’s heart breaks. And, he suddenly feels like he was somehow rejected of being a good boyfriend. It’s obvious isn’t it? Jimin had stated it himself. His mouth twitches in frown, but he shakes off the feeling with a small snort.
“He doesn’t mean that Yoongi.” Namjoon quips in, softly, worried and puts a hand on the older’s shoulders. “He doesn’t mean that, he’s drunk.”
“You know,” Yoongi starts, laughing incredulously, “I only agreed to this because you guys wanted to take him out to a club and were pestering me about ruining the fun.” he continues, motioning behind him at the entrance where the security guard was still keeping close watch, “But, now I’m being told that I’m the bad guy, this is unbelievable.”
“Because you are the bad guy in this case.” Jimin mutters out, eyes glittering with liquid courage that turns into mild shock when Taehyung puts a hand over his mouth to stop more words to come out of his mouth. Especially words he probably won’t even mean at the end of the night.
“Fine. Do whatever the fuck you want.” Yoongi replies with haste and starts walking towards the other. He puts his hands out to grab onto Jimin’s face and he smiles with anger before he says, “How about this, huh? Let’s break up. Let’s break up so I don’t ruin more of your fun from now on, okay?”
I don’t mean it, I’m angry.
But, Yoongi laughs even louder when he hears the words.
“Okay. I don’t need you anyway. I don’t need someone as selfish as you.”
Seokjin arrives at the wrong time.
Yoongi is a mess walking home and his phone gets abandoned in his pocket with the flood of messages from Hoseok and Taehyung asking where he was and Namjoon calling as well.
He turns it off. And, after the tears start to fall from his cheeks when he realizes what just happened.
Let’s break up so I don’t ruin more of your fun from now on, okay?
Okay. I don’t need you anyway. I don’t need someone as selfish as you.
Yoongi guesses it’s true, and closes his eyes right when he feels his world starting to fall apart.
First Time Breaking Up
It’s been days and Jimin has never felt worse about anything in his life more than this. He’s tired, upset, and all he wanted to do more than anything was to hear Yoongi’s voice so they could talk about what happened. So, they could fix things because Jimin knew this couldn’t have been how his first relationship ended. It’s not over. It can’t be.
But on the other side of his phone, Yoongi’s replies are invisible, unheard, the typing bubbles not even showing up on Jimin’s screen and he’s at a loss for what to do because just say something, please, let’s fix this hyung, I don’t want it to be over. I was drunk.
yoongi, please call me 5:45PM
yoongi, it’s me jimin. do you still have my number? 6:18PM
please talk to me. 7:52PM
i need you. 9:05PM
“Has he replied?” Taehyung asks, throwing a pitiful look at Jimin from the kitchen table.
Jimin shakes his head, not in the mood for anyone imposing on his attempt to fix his seemingly fucked up relationship, moves from the living room couch and into his bedroom where he plops on the covers with a heavy sigh. He stares up at the ceiling wondering what he should do, if there was anything that he could do to somehow fix the mess of the situation he was in.
But Yoongi’s silence is loud.
And, Jimin falls asleep to the memories of what they had and what they could’ve been.
“Have you replied?” Namjoon asks, walking into the studio with a bag of Chinese take out in his hands and a look of regret hanging heavy on his lips.
“No.” Yoongi replies simply, adjusting all the boxes on his screen (something that he has doing for the past half hour when Namjoon went to go pick up food) and stares blankly when it all looks the same. He could only see Jimin’s face on the screen, whether he liked or not, and the thought of making a bad decision pressing against his eyelids.
“Why don’t you talk to him?”
“He admitted that I was a terrible boyfriend. I don’t want to burden him more with that.”
“He didn’t mean it for christ’s sake, hyung.” Namjoon sighs, irritated, before setting the food on the table, “He was drunk! And, you were the one that brought up the idea that night.”
Yoongi was the type to be quick for judgement, quick to make decisions that didn’t make any sense and apparently, he was real good at fucking things up as well. Which only made him feel more inclined to think that he wasn’t the right choice for Jimin. The right person for Jimin, because Jimin deserved the world.
“How do I know he’s not going to regret the shit he’s saying right now? I was his first boyfriend, so maybe he just holds that in his heart but when someone else comes around who’s better than me he’ll kick me to the curb again.”
Namjoon shakes his head, sitting down on the chair next to Yoongi with his plate of chow mien and orange chicken in his palms, “You know, hyung,” he says, “you may be great at making beautiful tracks and producing,” he takes a bite of his food, “but you’re terrible at making any decisions that could benefit you and your love life. And you think too much. I believe that whole shit about ‘things happening for a reason’ to be completely stupid and in order for things to happen you have to make them happen. Good or bad, it’s your choice to fix and it’s your choice to let it just sit and spoil. So man up and do something about it.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“That you’re a coward. And you should face your problems. Go talk to Jimin, or let him talk to you. Because all I see between you two is a beautiful relationship, and you’d be stupid to let it rot, and I know you’d regret it if you did.”
Yoongi takes a bite of his cold food, the words from Namjoon plaguing his thoughts even after the other had left an hour later. Maybe he’s right.
First Time Seeing Each Other Again
“Yoongi.” Jimin says with surprise, opening the door wider now that he sees the older standing behind the frame.
He had heard someone knocking softly earlier and wasn’t about to open it, but the knocks kept persisting and he was getting a little irritated now that the person didn’t get the obvious idea. Jimin didn’t want to be bothered, how hard is that to understand and grasp?
“Hi.” Yoongi gives a soft smile, and there it is again, the shove of his hands in his jean pockets with shoulders slouched in a way that made him look so small underneath the awnings. But, still so beautiful.
Yoongi settles on the couch, awkwardly positioning himself so that his elbows were on his knees with Jimin sitting on the other side. He rests his index finger on his lips, thinking about all the things he could say so he doesn’t fuck things up and maybe even considering just leaving before he could, but then Jimin speaks.
“I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”
“Yeah.” Is all that comes out.
“Hyung, I didn’t mean it when I said you’re selfish, if anything, I understand why you did the things you did and I was just acting out because I was the one being selfish. Not you.”
There’s silence, and Jimin is worried because no, don’t do this, don’t put your walls up and let me in. He rests a hand on Yoongi’s knee, the touch burning underneath his palm as soon as it’s there, and Jimin knows Yoongi could feel it too, especially because of the way he jerked it up when Jimin did it.
“Talk to me, please.”
Yoongi wasn’t great at doing conversations that were personal, he expressed himself better with lyrics. It’s easy to write it out in privacy of the studio—pen and paper the only company—and the task even more so when he’s able to bring his thoughts to life into the microphone. But, talking to Jimin outwardly about things he couldn’t even express to himself was a task that he found himself stumbling over. And, Jimin made it even more hard with his eyes peering at Yoongi with that fucking gaze, and Yoongi couldn’t find the right words.
First, there’s the part about him being jealous and the reason why he lashed out as much as he did that night was because of it. His jealousy was dangerous, his need to protect the same, and when he saw someone just even touch Jimin, he had lost all sense of himself including his thinking and before he knew it, he was throwing fists before his mind could register what was going on. And, Yoongi doesn’t like trying to understand other people’s intentions or feelings when he was in such a state, because in his mind the only thing that’s right is protecting what is his and sure, Jimin isn’t property, that much he knows as well, but the thought about someone else touching Jimin, while the younger wasn’t in is right mind had set Yoongi off and left a foul taste in his mouth.
Second, it’s the fact that Yoongi thinks he’s not good enough—never good enough—and knowing that he had disappointed Jimin with his actions only proved his insecurities. Jimin needed someone who was able to think before doing, which was an asset Yoongi didn’t harbor, and as much as he wants to, he couldn’t. He acted solely on what he felt and not on logic.
Third, and the most important, especially in this case, was the fact that Yoongi was afraid of losing Jimin.
Amazing, beautiful, wonderful and a little dense at times, but perfect Jimin, and he was able to lose him in just a blink of an eye (by his own actions of course, he didn’t blame the other for that) and the feeling of Jimin slipping in his fingertips was akin to something like losing a part of himself. It happened so quick and it hurt so bad, and if he could he could change it.
“I’m sorry.” Yoongi finally says, eyes softly shutting at his thoughts so that they would quiet down and he was finally able to speak. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
And, the thing that was the most beautiful about their relationship (just like Namjoon said) was that the pair didn’t need words to express their forgiveness and their desires for one another. It wasn’t about trying to disprove one another’s understandings or disagreements, or trying to find the right words or kissing ass. It was about reading each other’s movements, the slight glance at each other’s lips and cheeks, the impending clash of hunger for mouths and the want to hold, to feel the comfortability of each other’s presence.
They share their third, and most important kiss (three’s a good luck charm) through shared unwavering forgiveness and on Jimin’s couch. The passion is still the same, the insatiable hunger for the exchange of infatuation stronger, and their rebuilt relationship now perched on the highest mountain of trust.
Jimin finally takes a breath this time, Yoongi holds his.
(Taehyung and Jeongguk walk in on them kissing, to which Taehyung makes a loud squeal of happiness that exerted from the back of his throat and Jimin flushing a bright red in response.
Yoongi smiles and Jeongguk laughs.
“Guess they made up.” Jeongguk finally says after gaining his composure.)
First Time Together Again
Yoongi spends the night.
Jimin clutches onto Yoongi’s hand around his waist while the other’s chin is propped on the tops of his head. He holds the hand there, never letting go afraid of waking up and finding out that it was all a dream.
He wakes up with Yoongi staring at him, a small smile on his lips with sleepy, small eyes gleaming and Jimin only laughs softly when he’s shocked out of his slumber.
“You’re so creepy, hyung.”
the First Time
Jimin isn’t mentally prepared, nope, he thinks that he’ll never be because this was harder than anything he’s ever had to face in his life (Taehyung wasn’t making it any easier, considering he just keeps throwing different boxes of condoms into the shopping basket with little to no explanation as to why) and Jimin wants to ask why there’s so many variations of colors, textures, scents (what the fuck) and well, the sizes he knew, so he didn’t question that part. The whole idea of asking made him flush anyway, and he’d rather avoid the jokes that would surely leave Taehyung’s lips.
“So you’re saying you’re just going to pull out the condoms from your back pocket? He doesn’t even know?”
Jimin cowers low in his seat at the kitchen table, putting a hand over his face when Taehyung poses the question.
“God, you make it sound so bad.”
“I mean, yeah, sure good for you, but are you even sure Yoongi would agree to this?” Taehyung peers, looking at all the boxes on the table and slightly regretting buying so much (he didn’t pay a dime, but he felt bad for throwing so much in the shopping cart; maybe they only needed the lube and one box). He looks back at Jimin and laughs softly when the other is still, quite hilariously, blushing in his seat. “You go hard, don’t you?”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” He laughs, grabbing his phone off the island before putting his hand down on Jimin’s shoulders, “I’ll leave for Jeongguk’s now. Remember to go slow, okay? I’m sure Yoongi knows what he’s doing, but if he doesn’t listen to you, break up with him and kick him in the nuts.”
Jimin, who was perplexed at Taehyung’s advice, just sighs heavily, nodding his head so he could finally be left alone to pick up his thoughts from off the floor. Taehyung gives a loud laugh this time, apologizing once again and walks out the door when the condolences are left off his lips.
Jimin should’ve known not to ask Taehyung for advice.
Yoongi was by far, the most surprised he’s ever been (he’s also a mess, but he won’t admit that to Jimin) and a little shocked to say the least.
They’ve had heated make out sessions before, barely getting to the point where it feels like too much and Yoongi has to stop himself quickly because Jimin has never had sex before. And, it’s not like Yoongi minds, no, that’s not the problem. The problem is he hopes that Jimin is sure about wanting to have sex with him.
“You’ve had sex before, right?” Jimin questions, from beside him on the bed, curiosity leaking from the undertones. They had just kissed and his lips were still swollen red from the action, Yoongi lingers his eyes there before looking back at the younger. “I mean, you just kind of look like the type that has done these kinds of things before.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I’m just saying you’re hot, hyung.”
Oh, well that’s nice, “Er, yeah, I’ve had sex before.” Yoongi finally says after a moment of silence, turning his head so that it was facing the ceiling and not Jimin’s face before throwing an arm over his eyes in embarrassment. “A lot, actually.” he mumbles the last part.
“So then what’s stoping you from having sex with me?”
“Jimin, it’s not that easy, baby,” Yoongi replies, a hot flush dancing on his cheeks, “this is your first time, I want you to be sure you know what you’re getting yourself into.” he sighs, throwing the arm off his face and turning just slightly so he could catch Jimin’s curious glance, “It’s going to hurt, and this is your virginity we’re talking about. Are you sure you want to do this?”
Jimin huffs a breath, mildly offended and turns his whole entire body around so his back was facing the other, “If you don't want to have sex with me, you should’ve just said it.”
“That’s not what I’m implying,” Yoongi exasperates a little too sternly, he’s not mad, if anything he’s more nervous, but it doesn’t stop the irritation from dripping on his tone. “I’m sorry, okay. I don’t want you to regret this decision if we do, er, well, this. It’s a final thing, you know? Baby, I only want the best for you, but if you’re sure, then, yes, of course, I’m willing to give it a try.”
Jimin perks up at this, smiling like a fool when he hears the real reason for Yoongi’s standoff attitude towards the whole thing. He turns back around and drags his gaze up slowly until it reaches Yoongi’s eyes.
It starts off with languid kissing, Yoongi barely brushing his lips over Jimin’s own, caressing with soft touches and then it explodes into a fiery battle of heat. It’s a kiss that has them both fighting for dominance over each other’s mouths, tongue dancing and exploring until Jimin was a whimpering mess on the bed.
They’ve kissed plenty of times now, some wet, sloppy, soft and careful, and sometimes even to the point where Jimin feels lightheaded, but this time it’s overpowering. The clash of their lips barely gives them the time to breathe, one pulling and the other pushing, it’s an exchange that has Jimin curling his toes and he breaks the kiss with a deep breath, mind fogging over with the taste of Yoongi’s mouth lingering so distinctively on his tongue.
“Yoongi, fuck.” Jimin breathes, clutching onto the older’s shirt as he shivers from the pleasure that trails down his spine.
Yoongi has to hold his breath, the curse that falls from Jimin’s lips looks and feels so unfitting but so hot and Yoongi finds himself a little taken aback at the change of pace. He shifts off the bed so that his hands were placed on the pillows beside Jimin’s head before they’re back at kissing again. This time with more fervor, and his hands trail down the expanse of Jimin’s shirt, pushing it up just slightly so that his fingers could graze amongst the tanned flesh.
“Shit, Jimin.” He mouths, the warm skin underneath his palm and the crevices of abs take him by surprise. “You’re gorgeous.”
Jimin faintly laughs, shimmying his hips in a playful manner and flashes a wide grin, “I can say the same for you.”
“I’m going to try something, okay? Tell me if it you don’t like anything.”
Jimin believes there’s nothing he won’t like, but he decides to not protest against Yoongi’s words and nods his head before he replies with a small voice.
Yoongi takes his lips off of Jimin’s, the other whines softly, the loss of heat and touch makes him feel cold and empty but quiets down when the older leaves another chaste kiss before swooping his head lower to Jimin’s stomach. He hesitates there, blowing hot breath over the flesh, and then kisses it slowly until Jimin’s eyes widen just barely enough and then a soft pant leaves his lips. With permission, Yoongi continues to leave trails of kisses all along the expanse, biting tenderly until he makes his way up to the younger’s sternum where he plants a firm one before turning his direction back down and onto the waistband of Jimin’s jeans.
He gives a long, loving look at the other, waiting for him to reject the motion, but when nothing comes out of his mouth, Yoongi kisses. He leaves lazy ones, aggressive ones, soft ones and then he drags a tongue out to lick at the skin right above the hem, shocking Jimin so much that the younger’s head knocks back and crushes the pillow beneath it.
“You okay?” Yoongi smiles out on the skin, pushing his lips deeper, sucking a bruising red on the olive skin, a faint hickey already gleaming underneath the lights of the bedroom.
“Y-yeah.” Jimin stutters out, “Yeah, this is good.”
Jimin’s skin felt it was burning, every touch that Yoongi left on his skin made his body thrum in the aftereffects and he had to stop himself from breathing hard whenever it felt like explosions of dangerous heat. He pushes his head back up, doing the same with his chin towards his chest to try and look at Yoongi’s face. The sight beneath him knocks the breath right out of his throat and makes him moan loudly at how good Yoongi looks with dilated pupils and messy hair. He moans again when Yoongi does something with his mouth that he couldn’t even explain, but the heat in his stomach was flaring up and he finds himself pulling at Yoongi’s hair, fingers begging.
“Fuck, okay, yeah.” Yoongi mutters out, gasping just slightly at the end of his words. The vibrations from Jimin’s voice and fingers pulling against his strands made surges of desire prickle on his skin, “I could get used to this,” He laughs, “Don’t be afraid to be loud, I want to hear you.”
And, Jimin is; right when the obscurities of their pants get pulled off from each other’s limbs and they lay half naked and stark in just their boxers. Jimin was never shy about his body, in fact, he was proud of it, but it only made his pride soar when Yoongi groans loudly at the sight of him. Fingers trailing at the deep cut v-line on the lower half his stomach, tickling just above his navel and back down where the pondering fingers grip his hips, it’s everything that Jimin wanted to expect from their first time, and Yoongi made it that much more beautiful.
“I’m glad I’m doing this with you.” Jimin huffs, flexing his stomach just slightly in tune with Yoongi’s fingers.
Yoongi’s back on top again, but this time there’s a different kind of ferocity in his movements that Jimin liked, craved, but it’s still gentle, and Yoongi never once did things that made Jimin uncomfortable, it was the always careful, loving, and felt, god, it felt amazing and he smiles softly at his boyfriend. The love and desire heavy in his eyes when he speaks.
“Hyung, I trust you.” Jimin says softly, noticing the edge in Yoongi’s eyes once they stopped kissing again before he rests a hand on the older’s cheek. “I trust you.”
Yoongi closes his eyes, the flattery in Jimin’s words pulling out all the his insecurities from his body and he nods his head, nervous limbs disappearing just as soon as it came. He presses a kiss on Jimin’s palm and then grips harder at Jimin’s hips, confidence bubbling up now that he had the permission to do what he’s been wanting to do for a long while now.
“I need you to tell me if anything makes you uncomfortable. You need to be vocal, okay? I’m not going to—oh, fuck.”
So, yes, Jimin was definitely inexperienced but he was also getting tired of hearing the same damn things (he’s said it so many times before, reassurances never reaching Yoongi’s ears), so in order to cut off the familiarity, he pushes his hips up against Yoongi’s experimentally and what happens after has him groaning low in his chest when a feeling of pure bliss erupts behind his eyelids and he’s taken aback at how good Yoongi feels on him, how right he feels against him.
Their clothed lengths brush just slightly, but the feeling ignites something so foreign in the pit of Jimin’s stomach that it makes him coil himself underneath Yoongi’s frame. He does it again, but this time his buck is a little more stronger, gasping when the feeling only becomes more powerful and he clutches against the bedsheets to hold himself steady.
“I thought you said you haven’t done anything before.” Yoongi airily laughs, putting his forehead on Jimin’s chest to slow down his racing heartbeat. “You little shit.”
“Hyung, ah, I’ve seen porn before.” Jimin cheekily replies, wincing at the pleasure of their hips pressing down. “I haven’t been living under a rock.”
Yoongi laughs again, picking his head up to look at Jimin’s face as they keep grinding. He pushes his hips down, pressure heavy, and slowly drags his cock back up on the length of Jimin’s hardening one. He groans under his breath when Jimin’s moan follows the movement, long and slow, and hitching at the end when their heads brush.
“I want more,” Jimin responds after finally catching his breath, “please.”
Yoongi pushes himself up, ready to give Jimin whatever he wants, and then kisses Jimin’s navel before using his fingers to slide down the younger’s boxers. Jimin gasps at the cold air touching him, sighing loudly when he sees Yoongi pull off his own. Jimin looks down and gives a low groan at how hard and heavy Yoongi was for him, he made him this way, and the thought makes Jimin feel proud. He’s more relaxed now that they were both in a similar state, a milestone in their relationship now reached but his thoughts are cut off abruptly when Yoongi wraps his fingers around the his cock firmly making him jut his hips up on instinct at the newfound sensation.
“Ohmygod,” Jimin breathes out, eyelids fluttering closed at the sensation of being gripped with Yoongi’s experienced hands and jumps up when the older starts to pump slowly, “fuck, fuck.”
Yoongi starts off slow, his heart racing at how much Jimin looked so beautiful unraveling beneath his fingertips, he’s trying to keep himself calm but in reality, it took all his will to stay confident. He wants everything to be perfect, just right, hoping that this isn’t going to be a big fuck up in their relationship, but when he flicks his wrist just slightly and Jimin’s hip jumps up again at the motion, he figures there’s nothing wrong with what they’re doing. If anything, Jimin said it himself that he was ready.
The older moves his hands with a quicker pace, thumbing over Jimin’s cock that was already leaking, pre-cum dancing down the underside of muscle and slicking up Yoongi’s movements so that the slip was easier. Yoongi tries to keep his mouth closed, the insatiable hunger flaring up on his tongue and all he wants was to taste his boyfriend, want to make him feel even better than he was feeling now. He finally lets himself go when the soft mewls become a mantra of the same record, digging into Yoongi’s brain like a melody he’s never heard before but wanted his best to write a song over.
Yoongi releases his grip, Jimin’s whines don’t go unheard, but Yoongi is persistent at holding down the other’s hips and when he finally blows a hot breath over the younger’s cock, the movement stills. He looks up, holding his stare on Jimin’s when he opens his mouth and digs his tongue in the slit.
Jimin is loud, which Yoongi is thankful for, and the tight grip in his hair only motivates him to keep going. He tongues all along the muscle, sucking softly at the tip before swallowing the entire length into his mouth and constricting his throat when it hits the back of his tongue.
Yoongi sucks in deeper, holding the base of Jimin’s cock in his palm.
Jimin’s head gets knocked back at the rush of pleasure that tickles his spine, a pool of heat coiling quickly inside the pit of his stomach. They just started, but at the rate Yoongi is going with his mouth and doing the things that he’s doing with it, Jimin’s not sure he could last longer than a few more seconds.
“Yoongi, stop stop, I’m going to cum.” Jimin pleads, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, “I d-don’t want to cum yet.”
“Why? Let go, babe.” Yoongi mouths over the tip of Jimin’s length, flattening his tongue when the other keens loudly and buckles his knees. He pushes Jimin out of his mouth, cock just barely off his lips before he thrusts it back in and moans and Yoongi knew that had to have felt good, because Jimin’s thrashing with his knees shaking.
Yoongi slides his mouth off, a small pop! resonating from the action. Jimin finally takes a deep breath, relieved that the sudden urges to cum down Yoongi’s throat have now left his body. Yoongi kisses him on the forehead, and Jimin finally says it.
Jimin watches as Yoongi digs through the top drawer of the nightstand. The older stares at all the boxes of condoms and shifts his gaze back at the younger with questioning eyes.
“Taehyung.” Jimin replies and gives a small laugh when the older nods his head, already knowing what kind of situation they must’ve went through.
Yoongi makes it back on the bed with a bottle of lube and a single gold wrapped condom in his hands, he licks his lips, positioning himself so that he was in-between Jimin’s thighs. He puts a hand on the middle of Jimin’s stomach, a motion that was akin to ‘are you ready’ and ‘are you sure’ and he’s glad that Jimin understood, a small nod resonating the answer.
The lube was cold as soon as it was squeezed out of the bottle, dripping all over Yoongi’s fingers and he flinches when the liquid drips off his hand and onto the bedsheets. He sighs, knowing he had squeezed out too much which makes Jimin laugh with a shake of his head at Yoongi’s mistake; the second-hand embarrassment was strong with this one.
“Shut up, I feel like this is my first time too.” The older flushes, wiping at the stained bedsheets with his knee. “God, I feel like this is the first time I’ve ever seen anyone naked.”
“You’re so cute, hyung.”
Yoongi flashes a glare, it’s not serious, and then he shifts his knees, trying to get more comfortable but he’ll be honest, he was still nervous. Jimin looks up at him with a small smile, eyes saying it was okay, everything is going to be fine—just go.
Jimin takes a deep breath when Yoongi slides in a lubed finger just barely to the first knuckle, but it soon turns into a sharp intake at the feel of pain being pulled into his lower half of his body. Yoongi coos, kissing away the tears that start to prickle at the corners of the younger’s eyes, but he feels bad as well because the last thing he wanted was for Jimin to be in pain.
“Relax, baby, it’ll feel better if you relaxed.”
Jimin tries his hardest, and for a few minutes he’s struggling. Eyes shut tight and bottom lip worrying into his teeth, but when the stretch becomes a little easier he finds the discomfort slowly fading, but Yoongi was persistent at making sure to stretch him out.
The second finger comes with a flare of sharper pain, it’s searing, making Jimin wince and take in a breath that shocked Yoongi even more so. The older was about to take out the digits, way too overwhelmed at Jimin’s state, but Jimin shakes his head with a hurry.
“No, just give me time.”
Yoongi waits, holding his position as still as he could and when Jimin nods his head, he moves them slightly, a little deeper and back out. The movements are maddeningly slow, they don’t speak, Yoongi listening to the hitch of breaths that escaped from Jimin and when the younger calmed down considerably, Yoongi pushes his fingers back out, sliding them back in with a little more force and Jimin shuts his eyes.
“Are you okay?” The older asks, unsure of what he should do, “We can stop if you—”
“N-no, I’m fine.”
Yoongi nods, leaving a long kiss on Jimin’s lips before he scissors his fingers back in and out, the stretch getting a little more easier now that Jimin had relaxed his muscles more.
“W-why did you stop? Yoongi, I said I was—”
“Baby, calm down, I’m just getting more lube.”
Yoongi laughs at Jimin’s worry before he squeezes more lube out on his fingers (this time the right amount, he made sure to keep a watchful eye) and massages it thoroughly over the digits so it’s warmed up. He puts them right back on Jimin’s entrance, a shaky exhale leaving his lips when he’s about to add a third finger inside.
“Final finger, okay, sweetheart. Remember to relax and if it gets too much for you, we can stop and try again another time.” He says, pressing two fingertips inside with caution, noticing that Jimin wasn’t wincing that much but when he wiggles in a third, Jimin’s thighs twitch and a small cry leaves his lips from the pain of the stretch.
Yoongi places his free hand down on Jimin’s skin, massaging circles on the younger’s hips to try and help him relax, but he doesn’t move without the permission, holding his hand steady until Jimin was more comfortable.
“O-kay,” Jimin breaths out, “t-try moving, hyung.”
Yoongi does, inching in slowly, stopping when Jimin’s pain flares up again and then proceeding when the younger tells him too. He moves his fingers in deeper, the stretch getting easier, experimentally scissoring just enough so that it doesn’t hurt more than it should and then —
“Oh, fuck, Y-Yoongi—Yoongi what was that?”
Yoongi’s heart almost stops because of how much Jimin tensed up, worry lacing his mind, but the moan that comes off of Jimin’s lips have him reeling back and he curls his finger just slightly, hitting the same spot before it dawns on him. Jimin almost shouts this time but the sound is blocked by his own fist pressing against his lips, in an effort to hold down his cries.
“No, let me hear you.” Yoongi says, using his free hand to pry off Jimin’s before intwining their fingers together. “Let me hear you, so I know if it’s good or not.”
Yoongi presses his fingers in deeper, angling it so it’s hitting the right bundle of nerves and Jimin’s moans get louder, heavy, sexy, and then Yoongi pushes his fingers out and then slides them back in with ease.
“Ohmygod, Yoongi, ohmygod.” Jimin whines out, bucking his hips down on the fingers on instinct. This is so good, he thinks to himself, shutting his eyes as the overwhelming feeling of pleasure floods in through his stomach, making him harden all over again.
Yoongi’s mouth waters, he continues to fuck Jimin open, and relishes in how the sweat dances off the younger’s temples, the beauty of Jimin’s cries mixed in with the expressions of pleasure and arousal. Yoongi holds his breath, thrusting his fingers in one last time before Jimin arches off the bed and cries out for more.
“Yoongi—I’m ready, fuck, plea-se.”
“Okay, okay, I’m going.” Yoongi breathes out, ripping open the condom wrapper before sliding it on his cock with expert movements, swiftly positioning himself so that he was back at Jimin’s entrance.
He slides the fingers in again, making sure the stretch was still there, and then massages lube all over his length, the feel of touching himself making his gasp. When he was ready, he presses the head of his cock inside Jimin’s entrance (Jimin takes a sharp intake, ‘give me a second, hyung’) and slides in a little deeper when Jimin tells him to.
They wait it out, Yoongi barely rocking his hips out and in, and then pace steadies.
“Shit, Jimin—you feel so good.”
Jimin whimpers, in pleasure and not pain, and before he knows it he’s arching his back off the bed when the familiar rush of arousal spreads him even, causing fireworks to dance behind his eyelids and his toes to curl. He gives a high moan, when Yoongi slides in just the right way, Jimin’s walls tightening ever so slightly and Yoongi feels so full, so fucking full and it takes Jimin all his might to not scream.
Yoongi doesn’t think he’s going to last much longer than this, the hot heat that wraps around him beginning to be too much, and then Jimin gasps and presses his nails on Yoongi’s skin, leaving marks of red.
“Fuck,” Jimin gasps out again, “fuckfuck, Yoongi, fuck.”
Yoongi’s stamina flares at the words, pushing himself in deeper and he shifts trying to find a different position, he thinks he’s got it because suddenly Jimin is flexing, muscles tight —
“Right there! Hyung, please, right there—” Jimin moans, widening his eyes just enough for Yoongi to see the wetness of them and then he leans his head up, begging with his eyes for a kiss.
Yoongi complies, kissing him slowly but the passion is warm, the movements of his hips never stopping—Jimin sighs, Yoongi eats it up.
Jimin somehow finds a newfound confidence, matching the grinding of his hips as soon as Yoongi thrusts in, their fucking in tune with one another’s movements. Yoongi breaks the kiss, swiping a finger over Jimin’s lips before holding Jimin’s cock in his hands, wetting his fingers from the pre-cum that trickles out of the head.
He puts on a show, taking the wet finger into his own lips making Jimin groan from how fucking hot that was.
“If you’re going to cum, baby, do it,” Yoongi says after popping his finger out of his mouth, the bitter aftertaste searing on his tongue and he licks his lips, dryly adding, “let me see you, fuck, I want to see you. I want to hear you.”
He fucks in Jimin this time with more speed, both boys moaning loudly when Yoongi kept hitting Jimin’s prostate over and over and over again until Jimin reaches down and grabs himself in his hands, pumping with a speed that has Yoongi’s eyes following the movements with hunger. Yoongi can feel himself coming undone as well, his orgasm just on the brink of exploding because the hot heat of each other’s bodies was almost suffocating but it felt right, it felt so normal and he thrusts in harder.
“Hyung, I’m almost there,” Jimin cries out, his downstrokes becoming more fierce now that they were fucking at a quick pace, “fuck, fuck me harder.”
Yoongi gulps, hooking his arms underneath Jimin’s knees before moving them up to the younger’s chest, he angles himself down, close enough to bite a hickey on Jimin’s neck, “God, you’re so tight,” he struggles to push out, groaning so low, guttural, when Jimin suddenly screams. “Jimin—Jimin that was so hot, do it again.”
Jimin does, but this time his orgasm overtakes his body, making him arch higher and his head throws back against the pillows, “Yoongi.” He keens out after catching his breath from the scream, “Yoongi,” he repeats when the tight heat begins to be too much for the older, and Yoongi soon follows after him, orgasm hitting him hard. He bottoms out, gripping onto Jimin’s hips tightly enough to bruise as he groans through it.
Yoongi rocks lazily, riding out both their highs with deep breaths. He slides himself out of Jimin while the younger gives a small gasp from the feeling of being so empty. He pulls off the condom before tying it up and throwing it in the trash and lays on top of Jimin with sweat dancing all along the lines of their bodies.
“Fuck.” He says with a laugh, voice deep and tired, “fuck, wow.”
“I know.” Jimin mutters out rawly, vocal chords exhausted from being overused.
They lay there for moments that felt long, but nonetheless, comfortable for silence. Jimin has found a way to wrap himself all over Yoongi’s body, limbs a maze connected with another, and they’re too tired to get up and clean themselves, but Yoongi finally persists they do after almost falling asleep in the sticky aftermath of their bodies.
“Jimin, come on, let’s go shower.”
“No. Too. Tired.”
“You’re going to regret it if you fall asleep in it, believe me. Let’s go.”
Jimin finally gets up, sighing loudly when the exhaustion hits him like a dump truck, and lazily drags himself behind Yoongi. But, when the hot water hits him, he realizes he’s in comfort, content, he’s more than happy. And, the best part of it was—Yoongi didn’t have to say it for Jimin to know.
He knew that Yoongi felt the same.
(Jimin had trouble walking the next day, if anything, it was more than trouble, it was terrible.
Taehyung makes fun of him.
But, Yoongi, well, Yoongi was perfect, cancelling all his plans that he had for the day and staying behind with Jimin so he could take care of him.
They try for another round a few hours later, but stop when Jimin feels too sore.
That doesn’t stop Yoongi from giving Jimin another blow job—a blow job that he swallows clean down his throat, making Jimin scream at the top of lungs at how hot it was.
“I knew you were going to be a screamer.” Taehyung states when Yoongi leaves.)
First Time Saying I Love You
It happens on a Thursday night, a night where all of them are piled into Seokjin’s apartment (might as well be Namjoon’s also, since the taller was always found lingering here) for dinner.
“What’s on the list, hyung?” Jeongguk asks, the boy always the one to grab firsts—and seconds—shoving his nose over the boiling pot of spices and meat.
“It’s bulgogi stew.”
“Fuck, my stomach is already growling.”
Jimin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon and Taehyung are sitting in the living room, video game blaring loudly on the speakers and the shouts of ‘you’re going down, min!’ to which a reply ‘like to see you try, you fucking idiot’ it’s a game between Hoseok and Yoongi, Jimin—who was on Hoseok’s team—presses himself close to Yoongi’s body in an attempt to distract. But, it doesn’t stray Yoongi away from his concentrated battle, eyes only keeping watch on the TV screen and not on Jimin’s fingers that were currently curled over his knee caps.
“Hyung,” Jimin whispers close to Yoongi’s ear, voice tantalizing and hot, “if you lose for me I’ll give you something in return.”
“Keep on dreaming, kid,” Yoongi laughs loudly, tongue sticking out as he shoots a rain of fire in Hoseok’s direction, “fuck yes! One more round and I’ll definitely kick your whiny little ass Hoseok!”
Jimin, seemingly dejected, huffs loudly, shifting himself away from Yoongi before Taehyung claps a hand on his back.
“Great try. But, hyung is a monster when it comes to playing video games.”
Jimin, who’s not one to give up easily, his competitive streak as dangerous as Jeongguk, brushes off Taehyung’s hand from his back and gives a large smile.
Well, it might not be the greatest way to say it now, Jimin thinks, but he’s been wanting to say it for a long time. The three little words are practically almost falling out of his lips as soon as the thought crosses his mind.
He waits for the right moment, where it’s the heat of Yoongi and Hoseok’s battle in the game, and then he reclines back onto Yoongi’s shoulders, lips pressing a wet breath over the expanse of the older’s earlobes. And, here goes nothing.
“I love you.”
Yoongi drops his controller.
The previous attention on the game now disappearing at the words that fall from Jimin’s lips. He turns his head around, eyes wide in shock and surprise, before he stares at Jimin.
“What did you say?” He asks, this time more alert and focused, the screams of Hoseok winning left dead to ears.
Jimin smiles, truth settling in his eyes and he nods his head, reassuring Yoongi that what he had previously stated was real.
“I said I love you.”
(Yoongi kisses Jimin right then and there—with the screams and yells of everyone else around them loud and annoying in such a moment—and fights his way into Jimin’s mouth with his own response trailing off his tongue.
“I love you too.”
“Guys, come and get your food or else Jeongguk will eat it all.” Seokjin sighs, shooting a glare at the youngest member of their friends.
“I’m not sure if I even want to eat anymore,” Namjoon replies with disgust, “not with Yoongi and Jimin sucking each other’s faces off.”)
For Time and All of Eternity, Forever We’ll Be
Jimin stares at the ring on his finger with a small smile dancing on his lips. The simple band of silver a remembrance of all that has happened and all that will be.
The fights, tears, sex (which was getting downright dangerous) and love a beautiful symphony of memories that Jimin continues to cherish; and will cherish all the more with the future that lies ahead of them. He stands in the room, curtains white and blowing a wave of Spring air across the expanse of the floors, with the upmost wonder expressed on his face. He’s in awe, the moment that he’s been waiting for three years is finally here, and it has never felt more magnificent.
“You look like hot stuff.” Taehyung walks in, a loud entrance with an even louder trail of the rest of their friends behind him, cat-calling and shouting at Jimin’s form. “Mister GQ, you sexy little shit.”
“I still don't know how you were able to convince Yoongi into coloring his hair that pastel green,” Namjoon adds, holding a bouquet of baby’s breath in his hands before giving it to Jimin, “and you even have bright ass orange hair.”
“I don’t know how he’s able to convince Yoongi of anything. That hyung is as stubborn as a fucking bull.” Hoseok laughs, giving Jimin a long hug and wiping at his eyes in mock tears.
“Thanks for being here guys, I really appreciate it.”
“We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Jimin walks down the aisle in a white tuxedo, hair falling so beautifully well on the high peaks of his face, bangs split to compliment his tanned skin. Yoongi stares from across the altar wearing the same suit, holding his breath at the sight of his boyfriend, who looks, well, ethereal compared to everything else around him.
He also thinks that Taehyung did a great job at planning the whole event, white carpet, white chairs with a throw of silver and some gold. Spring flowers that bloom it’s petals so openly in the midst of the air, and what a pretty day, the clouds passing by in fluffs of white with the peaks of the sun’s rays just delicately brushing over his skin.
Everything is right, everything’s perfect and Yoongi couldn’t be happier, because all he wants now is to finally say the words and be gifted of Jimin’s presence for the rest of his life and all things after that.
“Hi.” Jimin whispers softly, a small smile on his lips when he finally reaches where Yoongi stood.
“Hi.” Yoongi responds, crossing his hands over the front of him in a respectful manner, holding himself steady when all he wanted more than anything was to kiss Jimin silly.
Their friends cheer, their families start to cry, and Jimin has to fight the urge to do the same. Yoongi sighs, looking up at the sky when the slight pricks start behind his eyes and forces his own tears down his throat, hoping that he wouldn’t be a mess in front of Jimin—not that the younger would mind.
Namjoon starts, clearing his throat with a soft cough, before he looks at his best friends with a small smile, “We are gathered here today…”
And all the words cloud over in a blur in both Yoongi and Jimin’s ears, they stare at each other, eyes never leaving with small smiles that turn wet with the tears that are finally able to be let go.
Yoongi bites his lip, the tears that flood through his vision blinding him of Jimin’s face for moments that felt too long, and he hurriedly wipes at his cheeks so that the face doesn’t disappear.
And All of Eternity
Jimin nods his head, understanding Yoongi’s emotions even though they aren’t expressed. His lip quivers, the tears following as soon as Yoongi’s had appeared, decorating a trail that he doesn’t dare wipe away because this moment was too beautiful to witness.
Yoongi never sheds tears like this, and the way the older tries to hold them back was a sight that Jimin couldn’t get used to. The older man looks like he’s about to break, hanging so loosely on a thread that’s thin and Jimin wants nothing more than to hold Yoongi close in his arms, to tell him all the same.
Yoongi chokes back a sob, cradling his own emotions deep inside his chest and steadies his hands on his knees so he doesn’t fall over from the impending cries.
He mouths at Jimin, you’re so fucking beautiful, and Jimin says it back, you too.
“You may now kiss the groom.”
Yoongi has never waited so long for words, and when the sentence leaves Namjoon’s lips, he all but softly grabs a hold of Jimin’s waist, pulling him so closely to his chest, afraid that the younger would disappear between his fingertips.
“I’m here.” Jimin says, softly so nobody else could hear but Yoongi. “I’m here, Yoongi.”
Yoongi cracks a sob free, pressing his lips down harshly on Jimin’s.
And the world stops, the moment imprinted behind their eyes and on their lives forever.
(“Got all that shit on video.” Taehyung quips, snapping his fingers.)