Thread by @Aamyungv

Metanoia; a #yoonminau

He tastes of cheap beer and cigarettes. His hands are rough where they touch him, holds him. They are big, covers his throat where he holds him. Those lips are chapped, nothing on them to soften them up.

The kiss is just like that. Rough. Like those lips.

That voice is gruff against his ear. The words spilling out of them, captured between those lips and his ears.

Jimin feels the man moving in him, fast and faster. Quick. This has to be quick. He keeps his eyes closed, no matter what, he doesn't want to see. Doesn't want to look.

“You are so pretty.”

Jimin's nails dig on that back, grasping onto the cheap material of the shirt.

“I will rip you in half if you ever say that again,” he curses, so near his release yet so far.

The laugh is just ghosting over his ear, lips pressing on his throat, “do it.”

The orgasm hits them together. Jimin curls away as soon as he can catch his breath. He sits up, looking around for his clothes. They are on the floor. He curses, snatching them up. He hurries to pull the jeans up, hopping around on one leg to fit into it. Then he wears the shirt.

He pulls out his wallet and counts the notes, “here.”

Yoongi is in his jeans, lazily lighting a cigarette. He looks over his shoulder at the notes and turns to reach for them. Jimin drops them on his hand, watches how one floats to the mattress. Where they were a minute ago.

“If you tell anyone-” Jimin pauses when Yoongi gives a low laugh.

“Why would I tell anyone and lose my income?” Yoongi shakes his head, “doesn't make sense. Does it?”

Jimin lets out a deep breath, nodding. He turns to leave. The basement is suffocating if he is being honest.

“Wait,” Yoongi grabs his elbow, “my landlord is doing his laundry. Let him go or you will be caught.”

Jimin grimaces, looking at the stairs and back at Yoongi, “how long does that take?”

Yoongi looks at the clock, “he will be leaving the machine to it soon. Just wait.”

He feels sore. His legs still trembling. Jimin leans against the wall, listening to the old man whistling to himself. He wants to just go home and lie down. Sleep the night away.

Some day he will stop. Some day he will just stop coming here. Someday he will forget this basement.

“God, why don't you move from here!” Jimin curses, “this place is suffocating!”

Yoongi shrugs, still not wearing anything except for his jeans, the button still undone. Jimin hates him.

“I only got one client, and he doesn't pay well,” Yoongi says, the cigarette burning.

“I might branch out,” Yoongi muses, “soon.”

Jimin ignores the words. He looks up at the stairs. The door is closed. But, he can hear the old man moving around. He leans back against the wall.

“Do something,” he hisses at Yoongi, “I am tired as fuck! I need to go home.”

“I can help you pass the time,” Yoongi says, the cigarette pressed between his lips.

Jimin arches his brows in confusion. Watches Yoongi pluck the cigarette off and step closer. He feels the elder just against him, pressing him up against the wall.

“What are you doing?” Jimin wonders, hands coming up to press against Yoongi's chest, to keep some distance, “Yoongi-”

Yoongi cups the side of his face, leaning in to capture Jimin's lips in a kiss. Jimin hisses, eyes squeezing shut. His fingers grasp Yoongi's shirt.

Jimin promises to himself that he will never come back here again. His arms slowly make their way to loop around Yoongi's neck, the kiss deepening between them. Yoongi hums when Jimin tugs onto his hair, fingers grasping onto those long locks. Jimin feels Yoongi's hands on him.

“You were so generous,” Yoongi whispers against Jimin's lips, tugging onto his jeans with daft fingers, “let me give you your money's worth.”

Jimin arches his back, too sensitive. He kisses Yoongi again, biting his lower lip.

“Stop talking,” he hisses, “get to work, then.”

--- Commissioned ---

The commissioner said, 'I want it to hurt.' lol

Tags -
- kind of enemies with benefits
- hurt/comfort
- closeted characters
- morally ambiguous characters
- angst
- I will add TWs if needed down the story x

💙💙💙

It's a party.

Jimin is a little tipsy, his body swaying with the music. He feels hands all over him. Bodies pressing up against him. He moves, arm wrapping around a girl he can't really remember the name of.

The music is loud, the beat catchy. Jimin hums, pleased.

He looks over at the guy who is playing the music. The hired DJ of the party. He bobs his head, loving the mix of songs. Jimin takes another sip of the drink in his hand. Moving across the dance floor to the DJ.

He hoists himself up on the stand, “you are awesome!”

The guy startles, looking over at him with those feline-like eyes.

“Thanks.”

Jimin nods, chugging his drink, “can you play something Indie?”

The guy eyes him, “I am not taking requests right now.”

Jimin frowns, lips jutting out, “one song! Dude, come on! I will pay!”

He pulls out his wallet and grabs some notes. Jimin dumps it on the mixer. The notes scattering as soon as they drop. Some bills floating down on the floor.

The guy looks at those bills and back at Jimin. His jaw tight.

“I don't need your money, I am getting paid,” he says.

Jimin frowns, “jeez! Do you need more money? Only one song, uhh...” he tries to remember if he knows the guy's name, “what's your name again?”

“Yoongi,” the guy says, reaching out to grab Jimin's elbow, “shit!”

Jimin bops his head, “play my song? Here, take all the money.”

He holds the wallet over Yoongi's head. The bills cascading down on him. Jimin laughs, finding Yoongi's wide eyes and reddening face entertaining.

“Fuck!” Yoongi curses, grabbing Jimin around the waist when he slumps, “why are these brats drinking more than they can handle?”

“Hoba,” Yoongi calls over Hoseok who is giving Namjoon a lap dance, “take over for me.”

Namjoon looks mortified where he is sitting. He gives Yoongi a silent thanks when Hoseok jumps on the stand to take Yoongi's place.

Yoongi drags Jimin down, “hey, wake up.”

Jimin curls in on him, “the song... indie...”

“Kill me,” Yoongi groans, looking around, “where is his other half?”

Namjoon shrugs, “that brat left a few minutes ago with a girl.”

Yoongi knows Jimin. Who doesn't? He is one of the richest students in their college.

Rich, popular, friendly but also egoistic, snobby. Yoongi doesn't like the lot.

He is not fond of riches. Not the brats who didn't move a muscle to earn the luxury they so shamelessly flaunt.

Yoongi slaps Jimin's cheeks lightly, “wake up, hey, do you hear me?”

“Just set him down on those chairs,” Namjoon says, getting up, “we are almost done here. Let's go.”

“Is that Jimin?”

Yoongi turns to see a girl eyeing them, he nods, “yeah. Can you call his friend? He passed out.”

The girl reaches, “I will handle it. Thanks.”

Yoongi hesitates. The girl's smile is a little weird. Something gleam in those eyes that Yoongi doesn't personally like.

“No, thanks,” Yoongi pulls Jimin closer to himself, “I will drop him off at his house.”

“Nonsense,” the girl waves, “I can handle it, seriously-”

Yoongi ignores her then. He drags Jimin out of the party. Hoseok and Namjoon come up behind him, ready to leave.

“So, what are you doing with this guy?” Hoseok wonders, “he is dead to the world, bro.”

Yoongi shrugs, “let's drop him off at his house.”

Namjoon hesitates.

“I don't trust these people,” Namjoon eyes Jimin, “what if his parents think we did something spooky with him? Let's not take the risk.”

“Where do we leave him, then?” Yoongi wonders, “he is so out of it.”

Hoseok bites his lip, “we can leave him at the party...?”

Yoongi looks at the boy in his arm. Jimin is unconscious. His lips jutting out in a pout. A side of his face pressed against Yoongi's shoulder. Yoongi thinks of leaving him there. In the party. For someone to pick up. But...

“I hate these brats!” Yoongi curses.

He drags Jimin to his bike.

“Exactly how is he going to sit on that?” Hoseok wonders.

Yoongi hoists Jimin up on the bike, he gets up on it too. Jimin is sitting in front of him, facing him. He squirms in his dizzy state, head lolling before it rests on Yoongi's chest.

Yoongi chucks one helmet on Jimin's head. Wears his. Hoseok and Namjoon get on their bikes.

“If we get caught in the street, you will pay for the fine,” Namjoon mutters.

Hoseok nods in support. Yoongi ignores them, starting the bike and leaving the premise.

“Where are you taking him?” Hoseok shouts over the wind.

Yoongi shrugs, “home.”

====

Jimin wakes up feeling the lump under his back. The room is too humid. He winces, cursing in his mind. He is pretty sure the servants turned off the AC by mistake again. He will roast them...

He blinks his eyes open. Trying to make sense of the place he finds himself in.

It's a room. There is a door, the wood of the door decaying around the lower surface. The room is too small. There are no windows. Jimin has two floor to ceiling glass windows that look over Seoul.

He squirms on the mattress and winces. The mattress is too thin and too rough. Unlike his bed, that feels like a cloud. Also, the mattress is on the floor.

Jimin's eyes skim over the room, noticing so many posters of rock-bands and rappers and cars. He winces. He hates those.

Jimin sits up on the mattress. Trying to remember what happened last night. He remembers going to talk to the DJ.

Then...what happened? Where is he?

Jimin looks around. The ceiling is too low. The room has a three bean bags, a desk, a rack full of books, a wardrobe...

Nothing else.

Jimin swallows. The fear of the unknown crippling up his spine. He is in someone's basement.

The thought makes him frantically look at himself. He is wearing his clothes. He is unharmed. But… who got him here? What-

He hears a door open somewhere and springs up.

Jimin winces because his head is throbbing. The drinks still making his senses dull. He looks around frantically and sees a basketball. He picks it up without thinking and turns towards the sound of the footsteps.

As soon as he sees someone, he throws the ball.

The ball, to his dismay, hits a wall. It's far away from its target.

The target watches the ball hit the wall and bounce on the floor before rolling away.

Those eyes shift to him then. Lips quirking up with mirth.

“Woah, that was terrible.”

Jimin knows that.

Jimin looks around frantically, picking up a book next.

“Come near me, and I will-”

The guy arches a brow, “what? Stomp me to death with a book? Do I look like a fly to you?”

Jimin grips the book to himself, “Who are you and why did you kidnap me?!”

The guy stares, “what?”

“Who are you and why did you kidnap me?!” Jimin demands, “listen, let me go, otherwise-”

“Calm down, okay?” the guy curses, “I didn't kidnap you. You were too drunk last night. I got you here because I didn't know where else to take you.”

“You live here?” Jimin makes a face.

“Yes,” the guy nods, “I do.”

Jimin lets out a deep breath, nodding to himself, “okay. Thanks,” he looks around with disbelief clear on his face, “uhh... I will go now.”

The guy hums, “the staircase will lead you to the door.”

Jimin takes a step, “thanks…?”

“Yoongi.”

Jimin gives a curt nod, “Yoongi. Thanks.”

He looks at the mattress and picks up his phone and wallet before he runs towards the stairs.

Jimin walks out onto a laundry room. There is another door that opens to a pavement. He walks out and closes the door, before he books a cab.

☁️☁️☁️☁️

Jimin sees Yoongi again in another party. He notices the man is the DJ again. When their eyes meet, Jimin looks away, focusing on the girl on his lap. She is saying something.

His gaze flicker over to the guy again when an indie song starts to play. Much to his chagrin.

He looks at the guy directly, then, Yoongi holds up his hand. Waves once. Then he goes back to his work.

“You know the DJ?” the girl on his lap wonders, long lashes fluttering when Jimin looks at her, “are you guys friends?”

Jimin shakes his head, “no. We are not.”

There is a certain sense of fear that Jimin can't let go of. Yoongi knows a part of him he has never shown someone. He never drank to a point where he passed out before. Jimin hopes he didn't say anything or do anything weird. He hopes Yoongi didn't keep a record or something.

He observes the guy from his perch on the couch. The party is at its peak. Taehyung is by his side, enthusiastically discussing something with the others. Jimin sips his beer and notices how cheap Yoongi looks.

His clothes, his accessories, it all screams inexpensive.

Jimin hides a snort when he realizes the T-shirt is actually torn in places that the guy is wearing. Not fashion. But, Yoongi is trying to pass it as if it is.

He also takes notice of the guy's friends. They are almost the same crowd. Three socially backwards, emo boys.

Jimin's doubt starts to cement the more he looks at Yoongi.

What if he kept something? Recorded Jimin? Maybe someday he might want something against it. He sucks his lower lip into his mouth, frowning.

He apparently talks in his sleep, Taehyung says. What if he said something?

Yoongi gets off the stage, leaving Namjoon on the duty. Jimin watches the man pull out a box of cigarette and walk outside.

Jimin gets up, ignores the protests of the girl, and follows the guy.

The party is at a friend's farmhouse. Jimin walks out in the garden after Yoongi.

Yoongi is sitting on the swing in the garden and smoking. Jimin walks up to him. Yoongi looks up, a little confused.

Without a word, Yoongi holds out his cigarette. Jimin makes a face. He pulls out his Dunhill, lighting it.

Yoongi's lips twitch, “right. Forgot you are rich.”

Jimin lets out two rings, leaning against the arch of the swing.

“That night,” he goes to the point, “when you took me home, did I say something or do something?”

Yoongi hums, “you kept asking me to play something indie.”

Jimin winces in embarrassment, “anything else?”

Yoongi shakes his head, “no. Nothing else.”

Jimin observes Yoongi's face. Yoongi looks up at him. Jimin leans in, his hands in his pockets.

“Are you sure?”

Yoongi doesn't flinch like Jimin expected him to. Doesn't look nervous like everyone gets around Jimin.

“Why?” Yoongi asks instead, “is there something you are hiding that you fear you might have shared?”

Jimin isn't hiding anything. But, the audacity of this guy speaking back to him like this doesn't sit well with him. He holds back from commenting on that, though.

“When I ask something,” Jimin takes the cigarette between his fingers, cups the side of Yoongi's face, “just answer,” his thumb caresses Yoongi's cheekbone, “for your own good, don't talk back.”

Yoongi's brows shoot up, lips twitching, “are you forgetting your manners now?”

Yoongi's cigarette burns between his lips, he talks with it staying right there.

“I am your hyung,” Yoongi murmurs, “senior.”

Jimin's lips twitch, “ranks,” he makes a face, “I only see rank in the sense of money, Yoongi ssi. In that sense, I will call you Yoongi.”

“Because,” Jimin lets his eyes wander over the guy's frame with distaste clear on his face, “well, look at you.”

Yoongi doesn't look like he is offended. Instead, he looks entertained.

“Look at me?” He chuckles, “you are indeed looking, Jiminie. What? Found something you like?”

For a second, Jimin is puzzled. He stares at Yoongi.

'Is this guy flirting with me?' Jimin wonders.

The sheer audacity again making his blood boil with rage and confusion.

“My taste in a person is classy, Yoongi ssi,” Jimin chuckles, “rich. Sophisticated. You don't fit.”

Yoongi leans back on the swing, arms on his both sides. A lazy smile on his lips.

“I wonder how sophisticated it was for you to pass out at a party like that, drunk off your ass,” he muses, “I wonder if rich brats like you know what classy even means.”

Jimin glares.

“Class is knowing your limit,” Yoongi speaks, voice clear and fearless, “sophistication is being a responsible adult and not a mess others need to clean for you.”

He gets up, stands eye to eye with Jimin.

“If you are here for a purpose, just say it, yeah? Stop acting tough.”

Jimin watches him, “you took me to your place,” he narrows his eyes, “let me crash there. Your dingy mattress can hold only one person, so only I slept there. When you probably took the floor. Why would you do all that for nothing? What do you want?”

Yoongi shrugs, “nothing.”

Jimin frowns, “nothing?” he tilts his head, “how can you not want anything? You did so much. I don't like owing anything to anyone, Min Yoongi.”

Yoongi's lips twitch, “well, you are in debt to me then. For now. I don't need anything.”

“No,” Jimin pulls out his wallet.

“The Royals, our country's topmost hotel's room charge,” Jimin pulls out the bills, “and, service charge. Total,” he holds out a pile of cash for Yoongi to take, “everything you did. Paid.”

Yoongi looks at the bills and back at Jimin, “so, my service was top-notch, then?”

“What?! No-” Jimin stops when Yoongi lets out a laugh.

“Keep it,” Yoongi takes a step back, “I don't need it. The compliment itself was enough.”

“I didn't compliment you!” Jimin watches the man, astonished!

YOongi starts to leave, “oh, but you said my service was top-notch!”

Yoongi leaves. Jimin stands there, staring after the guy, who doesn't look back at him again.

He looks down at the bills in his hand and back at the door that Yoongi opened and left through.

When was the last time someone refused his offer of money like this? Never.

☁️

Jimin can't help but take notice of Yoongi since then. He can't help but be aware of the guy's presence.

Since he came to this college, he never knew Yoongi existed. Now, he sees the elder everywhere.

Apparently, Yoongi works at their cafeteria. Jimin never noticed.

Now he does. One, because, Yoongi is right there and Jimin cannot just not see him.

Two, because, every time Yoongi makes his coffee, he draws a stick figure. Adds two dollar signs for the figure's eyes and one on its tongue.

Every. Damn. Time.

“Listen to me very carefully,” Jimin one day walks up to the counter, grabs Yoongi by his apron, tugs him forward and over the counter, “next time you do this, I am pouring the coffee down your head!”

Yoongi offers him a gummy smile, “and, pay for the damage next?”

Jimin glares at the man in his hold, “yeah, I might. What about it?”

Yoongi frees his apron, offers Jimin another smile, “instead of paying for the damage, how about you don't create the blunder?”

Jimin grits his teeth, “I swear, Yoongi, next time you do this, I will kill you!”

Jimin notices the next time, the stick figure is replaced for a chick. A baby chick with a knife and a dollar bill. Jimin fumes, the more he looks at it, the more he feels his face heat up.

“Is that a drawing of a chick?” Taehyung peeks over his shoulder, “why is it so angry?”

“Awww, is the chick pouting?” one of their friends coos over Jimin's shoulder.

Jimin watches the barista who is busy making someone else's coffee now. He marches to the counter. He ignores the protests and gets behind it and grabs Yoongi by his shirt to make him face Jimin.

“I told you not to do this!” Jimin hisses, crumbling the cup in his clutch and throwing it at Yoongi's face, “didn't I?!”

Yoongi lets it drop on the floor, looks at it and back at Jimin, “it was a greeting,” he pouts, “what? You don't like my service?”

Jimin fumes.

“Okay, okay,” Taehyung comes up behind him, grabbing him by the shoulders, “come on, mimi. Let's go!”

Jimin points a finger at Yoongi, “know your damn place! Okay?!”

Yoongi holds his hands up, his expression still a mix of mirth and glee, “sorry, sir. I will.”

But, Yoongi doesn't stop.

Every day, he would draw something weird on Jimin's cup. If the line is too long, he is too busy, he would draw a smiley face. Something. He never hands Jimin his order over with just his name.

Jimin gives up. How long can he fight over this anyway?

“Just go to a different café,” Taehyung says one day, tired of Jimin's complaints, “why do you go there?”

“That's our department's café!” Jimin glares, “the next one is in the science department, and the coffee there is trash!”

Taehyung sighs, “then, stop whining!”

One day he walks inside the café and Yoongi is not behind the counter. Jimin looks at the new face and frowns. He orders, tapping his fingers on the counter.

“Here you go, sir,” the new employee smiles at him, “have a good day.”

Jimin nods, leaving the café in silence.

The next day is the same. Yoongi is not there. Jimin takes his coffee and leaves.

The next day, he gives in.

“Where did the guy go who used to make coffee before?” he asks.

“Yoongi hyung?” the guy at the register asks, “he left the job. He is working at the RJ of our uni now.”

Jimin makes a face. Wonders who even listens to radio nowadays? He takes his coffee and leaves the café.

===

Taehyung loves radio. Jimin finds himself listening to the university's channel when Taehyung tunes it and leaves it in the student's common room.

“Hello, this is RJ Suga,” the voice is low, deep, “welcome to...”

Jimin looks at the phone, his eyes stuck there. He can pick up on Yoongi's voice. Yoongi is talking about the unfair treatment of the general students and the scholarship students of their college. Jimin listens.

“I love how thoroughly he talks,” Taehyung gushes, heart eyes at his phone, “he is the first jockey whose discussion I listen to.”

Jimin taps his pen on the blank page of his notebook, “he is literally saying, fuck the rich, regular students of this uni. Basically, us.”

“Well,” Taehyung shrugs, “this is a private college for rich kids. The rich students do act unfair towards the scholarship ones.”

Jimin rolls his eyes, looking away, “whatever, change the channel.”

“No way,” Taehyung snatches his phone from Jimin's reach, “let me listen!”

That's how he finds himself listening to the guy's show with Taehyung. Almost every morning.

The next time they meet, it's another party. Taehyung's birthday. Jimin didn't expect to see Yoongi and his friends there, but they are attending.

Yoongi is the DJ. Again.

“Why did you hire him?” Jimin asks, “there are so many others-”

“He is great,” Taehyung moves with the beat, a shit-eating grin on his face, “no?”

The music is good. Jimin can't lie. But, he can't stand the guy. He gives in when Taehyung tugs him on the dance floor.

Jimin leaves the dance floor after a few minutes. Taehyung is surrounded by others. Everyone wanting to be close to him. Jimin takes a bottle of beer and leaves the room.

He finds himself on the terrace, sipping his beer in peace. The music and voices almost a whisper to him.

“Occupied,” Jimin says, when the door of the terrace opens.

He hears the low chuckle, “the entire terrace is occupied?”

Jimin curses, closing his eyes for a moment before he turns his head to glare at the intruder.

“Are you stalking me?” he wonders.

Yoongi makes a face.

“You are not that interesting,” Yoongi comes to lean against the railing, sipping his beer.

Jimin doesn't say anything. He closes his eyes to feel the cold breeze of December on his face. The terrace is cold, too cold. Maybe they should get inside. But, he likes it here.

“Words of the streets is it was you who were searching for me,” Yoongi says, “you know?”

Jimin's eyes snap open, he grips the railing, “no! No! Why would I search for you? Are you out of your mind?”

Yoongi snorts, “well, I have my people. I was informed that-”

“Shut up!” Jimin hisses, “shut up, okay?!”

Yoongi's lips twitch, eyes glued on Jimin's face, “so... you didn't?” he makes a thoughtful face, “but, my spies never lie!”

Jimin faces him fully, “I asked once!” he holds up his hand when Yoongi's smile stretches on his lips...

“I asked because, I wanted to make sure you were never coming back!” Jimin crosses his arms over his chest, juts out his chin, “so, I can get my coffee in peace!”

Yoongi pushes off of the railing and comes to stand right in front of Jimin. Their boots touching between them.

Yoongi leans in, his arms going to hold onto the railing on both sides of Jimin's hips. Jimin presses up against the railing. His eyes on Yoongi.

“Is that so?” Yoongi wonders, his voice deep, eyes focused on Jimin, “then,” he whispers, “why didn't you go back there since?”

Jimin's heart pounds in his chest. He had never needed to make excuses. He had never felt caught off-guard like this before.

The more close Yoongi gets, the more jumbled his thoughts are. Yoongi is right in front of him and Jimin just can't form a word. His mind a mess.

Jimin is not used to feeling like this. This. Yoongi's hands slowly come to rest on his waist, easily holding him in place. Jimin feels the warmth spread through his veins. His own hands fly to rest on Yoongi's chest, trying to keep as much distance between them as possible.

“Why didn't you, Jiminie?” Yoongi wonders, voice rough, urgent.

Jimin feels heady. That rough voice in his ears rings. He closes his eyes for a second, turning his face away. He doesn't understand what is happening. He should snap. Shove Yoongi away. Punch him. He should...

“Tell me,” Yoongi whispers in Jimin's ear, nosing his cheekbone, “why didn't you?”

Jimin feels his throat running dry. No words come to his mind. Why didn't he? The coffee wasn't good anymore. He can say that. That's what it felt like.

Yoongi's lips ghost over his cheek, “hmm?”

Yoongi's breath is warm. Jimin notices the snowflakes floating in the air around them.

Snowfall.

They should really get inside.

Jimin dares himself to look at those eyes, “I...” Yoongi is so close.

Jimin doesn't get the flutter in his guts. The thrum of something in his ears.

There's a snowflake that catches on Yoongi's eyelashes. Jimin can't help but notice how it starts to melt there. He watches a droplet slowly roll down the expanse of Yoongi's cheek, till the curve of those lips.

Jimin swallows.

Yoongi's hands squeeze his hips, “stop me.”

Jimin blinks, those words registering in his brain. He looks at Yoongi. A little dazed, a little confused.

“Stop me, Jiminie,” Yoongi murmurs, throat bobbing.

Jimin frowns.

Yoongi leans in further, their foreheads joined. Yoongi's nose nudges his. Jimin chokes on a breath.

His grip on Yoongi's jacket tightens. He is not thinking, he is surely not thinking.

Because, his face tilts up, lips parting around silent acceptance.

Yoongi captures his lips gently. In a soft, cautious kiss.

Jimin's eyes close with a snap. His lips quivering.

Jimin shudders when Yoongi deepens the kiss. His arms wrapping around Jimin's waist. Jimin squeezes his eyes shut.

Yoongi tastes of beer and cigarette. It makes Jimin dizzy. His mind races. Heart pounding.

He bites back a sound when Yoongi presses him up against the railing.

Jimin pulls away when he can't anymore. His lungs burning. He heaves for air. Eyes on the man in front of him.

Yoongi's lips are bitten raw. Moist from their kiss. He doesn't look as affected as Jimin feels.

Jimin's entire world tilts and goes off of its axis at that moment.

He kissed Yoongi.

Yoongi kissed him.

He kissed a guy.

Jimin reels back. The cold suddenly engulfing him. He kissed a guy. He willingly kissed a guy.

Jimin wipes his lips with the back of his hand and swiftly turns on his heels.

“Leave,” he orders, voice stern, “now!”

“What?” Yoongi asks, still a little dazed from the kiss, “what do you mean-”

“I said, leave,” Jimin tries not to rise his voice, his eyes focused on the city ahead of them, “now.”

“Jimin-” Yoongi reaches to take a hold of Jimin's elbow.

Jimin flinches, jerking himself free.

“Don't touch me!” Jimin scrambles, pulling away, “don't touch me, okay?” he shudders, “whatever,” he waves his hands frantically, “whatever happened, it was,” his eyes find Yoongi's face, “a mistake! A slip of the moment! Forget it! You better forget it!”

“Jimin,” Yoongi curses.

“Don't tell anyone,” Jimin shudders, the new fear engulfing him now, “you better not tell anyone!”

The fear is blinding. That Yoongi will tell someone. That, he will talk about this. Whatever they did.

“Promise me!” Jimin lurches forward to grab Yoongi by his collars, “yeah?!”

“I am not...” Jimin shakes his head, the fear in him so powerful, he feels like he might collapse, “I am not into guys! Okay? Just...” he reaches behind himself to pull out his wallet, “here-”

“Keep your damn money to yourself!” Yoongi hisses, “you-”

“No!” Jimin glares at him.

“Here!” Jimin shoves the entire wallet into Yoongi's pocket, “keep it all. Just don't tell anyone. Just don't! Forget this! Forget this, you hear me?!”

Yoongi curses, grabbing his biceps, “calm down, Jimin! First, take a breath!”

Jimin shoves Yoongi away, “get away!”

Jimin almost stumbles, turning on his heels. He runs for the door. Leaving as fast as he can.

Jimin doesn't remember how he took those stairs. He doesn't remember how he got to his car and drove back home.

All he remembers is that kiss. That kiss that changes everything.

☁️

Jimin quickly finds out, going from one girl to another doesn't erase that kiss. He quickly realizes, no matter how many girls he takes to bed, how many girls he kisses, that one kiss lingers in his mind.

He doesn't understand how. It didn't even last that long.

Every time he is with someone, Yoongi's face flashes across his mind. Every time he kisses someone, the taste of cigarette and beer invade his senses. Nothing really takes the edge off. He is pissed.

At himself mostly. For letting it happen. For not stopping Yoongi sooner.

Jimin stays awake all night, thinking about that one stupid kiss. He keeps replaying that kiss in his mind. It doesn't make sense.

He wonders how much of it happened and how much of it is just him adding to it. He simply can't forget. It haunts him. In his every waking hour.

- I will see you all soon x

- If you want to support me, here's my kofi : ko-fi.com/aamyungv