Archive of Our Own

July 2021, somewhere in South Korea

“Say it again,” Yoongi murmurs.

Jimin pauses, eyes wide and lips parted in surprise. And Yoongi shouldn’t be so endeared to the baffled expression on his face, but he is. He can’t help it.

Bickering with Jimin has always been funny; it’s a dynamic developed in all the years spent together; it’s their love language, even when they joke about each other. Sometimes Jimin wins, and sometimes Yoongi does. But the best times are when Yoongi manages to render Jimin speechless like he is right now.

And it all started with a stupid thing, really. He was just cooking dinner for everyone like he often does when they’re all together, and Jimin said that stupid joke. That silly, “ You’re basically our dad ,” and —

— and something twitched inside Yoongi’s chest. And pants.

Truthfully, he hasn’t gotten laid in a long time now, not that he feels the need specifically with how much they work and how little time he has to actively do something. And there is also that small detail that he doesn’t really have interest in occasional hookups — worldwide superstar persona aside, he doesn’t feel interested in strangers.

Never felt interested in strangers, hence the almost five-month sex hiatus.

So yeah, when Jimin said that particular sentence, looking straight into his eyes, Yoongi felt something. But also… maybe…

There was an edge in Jimin’s voice. Something that Yoongi caught with his ears and found confirmation when he looked up to find the younger, averting his gaze with a faint blush on his cheeks. And maybe it was just because he spent the afternoon outside that he got that healthy, rosy dusting on his skin.

But maybe—

Now, hours after dinner (and that infamous sentence too), in the dead ass of the night but still too awake to go to sleep because their inner clock is completely messed up by their regular schedule, Yoongi is in Jimin’s room, demanding from him to be called… that, again.

Once again, he can’t say he never felt something for Jimin. Before and after their debut, there was a time when he had an infatuation for the younger but never pursued anything. Yoongi kept it hidden.

But, again, their life isn’t so easy, it’s difficult to allow different kinds of feelings (or just breathe on them for a little while, find a small solace between their schedules and, well, being part of BTS), so there was nothing much more than fleeting touches or, later (much later), sudden outbursts of… something that it always ended in quick sex here and there.

No feelings.

Except that Yoongi has feelings.

Jimin, sitting on the edge of his bed, tries to be nonchalant about everything, his shoulder softly slumping down while he looks down at his phone, “Call you what?” a pause, then “Daddy?”

Now Yoongi sees the smirk; there is a faint dimple that pops out in a particular manner on his left cheek when he smiles like that. A little bit mischievous and a lot lovely.

Yoongi walks closer, his left knee plopping on the edge of the mattress while sliding the other leg between Jimin’s thighs. The softness of skin brushing together, now that they both have short pajamas for the night, makes Yoongi’s skin tingle with goosebumps.

“Yes,” he breathes, a shiver running down his spine when Jimin looks up at him again, the faint glow of the phone outlining his features. He looks… soft. Not just his cheeks, lips, hair… he looks all soft.

"Oh my God, you like it?” Jimin giggles jokingly. There is no mockery in his tone, though, and the blush on his cheeks has only gotten darker with the seconds passing by. “You like being called daddy…?” his voice hushes but remains a little bit teasing. He slightly squeezes his legs together, effectively trapping Yoongi there.

There is no other light in the room aside from what comes from the outside now: the golden glow of the outdoor lamps cascading between the curtains. Yoongi can see it well because he knows Jimin as much as Jimin knows him, and the way the younger licks the corner of his lips, slightly averting his gaze, speaks volumes.

Yoongi smiles, one hand sliding under Jimin’s chin, “Just as much as you like calling me that, baby—”

He pauses when he sees Jimin taking in a shaky breath, his eyes blinking quickly for a moment like he’s trying to focus, when his gaze trails up again. And. Oh.

Oh.

Jimin likes it too.

He likes it.

The eerie silence that dawns on them is interrupted only by the whirring of the AC in the upper corner of Jimin’s room. Yoongi looks at him for too long and then presses the thumb on his lower lip, softly pulling it down. Jimin lets him. Jimin always lets him, following the gentle touch and leaving a soft, wet, kiss on the pad of Yoongi’s finger.

And maybe Yoongi is a little more than gone for him, but he will focus on something else for now. “It’s late. Hyung will turn off the cameras, yes?” his voice raising a bit, schooled like every other time he has a camera planted on his face, like this very moment.

It’s what is needed for Jimin to regain some composure. He clears his voice and lets go of Yoongi’s legs, his own relaxing. “Yeah, um, sure. Thank you, I’m sleepy,” he yawns, faking it.

While Jimin stands up to ensure the microphones are shut off, Yoongi turns off the cameras and peeks from behind the curtains, ensuring the room will be for them only. Jimin turns on a night light, a silly little thing with the shape of a little duck, that changes colors every now and then, and puts on some lo-fi playlist on his phone.

When they’re on the bed again, sitting one in front of the other with crossed legs, Jimin leans a tad bit closer, taking both his hands and intertwining their fingers together, palms pressed. Yoongi likes when Jimin does it but says nothing, sensing a little bit of discomfort that he wants to chase away more than how much he’d like to fuck him right now.

“Is this okay?” Yoongi asks, “I’m curious, but… I don’t feel like doing something too, uh, hardcore. Just—” he pauses, searching for Jimin’s gaze. It’s incredible how different it is from when they do everything else. Yoongi can’t keep eye contact for too long unless it’s for this: to soothe Jimin.

“No, yeah, of course,” the younger one mumbles, brows furrowing. “Same for me, just— playing around? Hm… not hardcore, but—” he stops again.

Yoongi gives him time, thumbs gently brushing the soft skin of Jimin’s fingers. They stay silent for a little while longer, holding hands. “You… don’t find it weird, hyung?” Jimin asks, eyes trailing down, “It’s not that I have issues or whatever, it’s just— I meant it cutely, of course, but you—”

“Jimin-ah,” when Yoongi calls him, he does it softly, in a way he knows will calm the other instantly. And it works because Jimin seems to relax, even if his eyes are still cast down on the folds of the sheets. “I don’t find it strange. I’ve told you I’m interested. Also, nothing about you is weird, but even if ,” he hurries to say when he notices nervousness rising from Jimin, “Even if I found something you like a bit weird, I wouldn’t mind doing it if it makes you feel good.”

Jimin snorts out of embarrassment, it’s clear, but Yoongi pays no mind. “Remember it when I’ll ask you to…” he pauses, pursing his lips and looking at his side. His grip tightens on Yoongi’s hands, “… never mind.”

Yoongi can’t help the smile growing on his lips and the endearment filling all his chest and lungs, and his head. He withdraws one hand from Jimin’s and cups his cheek, his palm pressed flat on his warm skin, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want. But, I won’t feel weirded out, I promise.”

Jimin looks at him with a small frown plastered on his lips. He seems uncertain but leans into the touch, gently turning his head to plant a kiss on his palm. “Okay…” he murmurs.

“Jimin-ah,” Yoongi calls him softly. “Baby boy,” a little softer when the other keeps his eyes averted, without missing the way Jimin squirms, slightly shifting.

Yoongi likes being in charge, taking care of someone; he always did it, by the way, being the older second only to Seokjin. And he knows Jimin likes being taken care of. But this. Yoongi takes a deep, steadying breath and leans closer, his hand slowly shifting behind Jimin’s head, his fingers brushing his scalp. “Daddy would never be ashamed of his pearl.”

Yoongi does expect a lot, maybe a peal of nervous laughter, a snicker, even being laughed at for real… what he does not expect is the whimper that leaves Jimin’s mouth as the younger shifts into him, close, closer, forcing him to change position a bit when Jimin promptly sits astride his legs, both hands sliding up to grab the hem of his shirt. “Again,” Jimin whispers, lips close to Yoongis but not touching them yet, “S-say it again, please?”

“I would never be ashamed,” a short pause to study his reaction, and then, “Of my pearl.”

Jimin ushes a moan against his lips, kissing him softly without a single inch of hesitation in his body. Yoongi closes his eyes then, losing himself in the gentleness of his mouth, his fingers sliding around his neck, gripping a little bit desperate but also gently. Yoongi circles his waist with both arms, one hand trailing down his back. Until Jimin gets a hold of his hair and pulls carefully, “I love your hair,” a kiss, “So long,” another kiss, “soft— AH !”

Yoongi slides one hand under the hem of Jimin’s shorts, grabbing his asscheek with an open palm. It’s always nice the way Jimin’s body simply fits him .

Jimin fits.

He fits when they’re near, he fits behind him, when he’s taking Yoongi slow and deep or when he’s giving fast and frantic, and when Yoongi openly gropes him, squeezing parts of his body that nobody gets to touch, his thighs, his ass, his pecs. God.

“D—daddy,” Jimin whispers softly, borderline tense. Someone else would make Yoongi cringe. He was always curious and never got the chance to try, but he always got cringed every time he searched for some porn and closed all the tabs. Most of the time, the videos weren’t even worth jerking off. But Jimin…

“Yes, pretty?” he says, looking up at him. He finds Jimin averting his gaze, lips wet with spit and parted in soft pants. He bites down his lower lip, and Yoongi leans close again, kissing the corner of his mouth while kneading his fingers on Jimin’s plush ass. “Do you like to be called pretty names?”

Jimin nods, his fingers sinking between Yoongi’s hair, “You already know that…” he pouts. Even his whiny tone is hushed down to a whisper, shy at the edges and so endearing. Most people think Jimin couldn’t be so timid, they stop at the first idea they got of him.

“Then what is it?” Yoongi asks, trails kisses on his cheek, down to his jaw, and places an open-mouthed kiss on the side of his neck, where his skin is soft and smells like his rose-scented shower gel, and there is that tiny little mole. Jimin whimpers but keeps quiet, even if his hips start moving slowly and Yoongi feels his hard cock pressing on his legs.

“You won’t say it?” he asks, looking up at Jimin, who stills, eyes closed and brows furrowed, seeming to think about it. Then he shakes his head, and Yoongi smiles, nibbling the skin around his mole again, “I’ll just have to guess what my pretty boy wants, then.”

Jimin keeps quiet even when his body is crossed by another shudder, goosebumps all over his skin. He’s always quiet, sometimes too worried about being too loud or sounding too eager, or just talking too much. It took some time for Yoongi to understand how to work things out, but now he knows what Jimin needs, likes, and wants.

“Do you want to make daddy feel good?” he asks softly, his hands moving on the sides of his hips and accompanying his slow rolls, but also grounding Jimin to this moment: he already looks a bit… out of it. The younger one quickly nods, his hands gripping his shoulders. “Then I need you to lie down, pretty. I want to play for a while with you. Can you do that for me?”

Jimin seems to hesitate, but he focuses on what Yoongi says. He’s… a little bit more relaxed under his hands. Yoongi can feel it in the way his muscles go slightly slack. He stops rolling his hips for a moment before moving away slowly, nodding, “Yes, I can… daddy.”

“That’s a good boy. Clothes off, too, pearl, you must feel so hot….” Yoongi talks softly, managing —only God knows how— to ignore the tightness in his shorts. For lack of nicer ways to say it, he's rock hard. It just took some talking and kissing, and he’s already gone. But he focuses on Jimin, lying down on the bed after getting naked, legs spread, his cock hard, and wet at the tip with precum.

And God, how gorgeous he is. Always was. Now that they’re all going to the gym, and he’s focusing on making more upper muscles, his edges are even sharper and prettier, and perfectly outlined. Yoongi crouches down on him, between his legs, and kisses him, deep and slow.

Jimin instantly holds onto his neck, legs circling around him in an attempt to pull him close, closer. Still with all the clothes on, Yoongi presses himself down on Jimin, who stifles a pleasured groan in his mouth. So Yoongi does that again, and again, and again. Their cocks pressed together but separated from the fabric of Yoongi’s pajama shorts. There is something absolutely lovely in how Jimin tries to deepen the friction, rolling up his hips but still not finding what he wants and whimpering with frustration.

“Slow down,” he orders, gently, when he moves to pinch Jimin’s chin with his thumb and index fingers, looking down into his eyes. The faint glow of the night lamp casts a yellow light on his features, and Yoongi can see very well the disappointed frown on his eyebrows, but his eyes are hooded with hunger. “You’re not letting me take care of you. If you want to do it all alone, I’m of no use here. Maybe I should just go…?”

Jimin’s eyes grow wide, lips parting slightly. “No! No, it’s not— I’m not—! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he mumbles, hands coming up to cup his cheeks, and for a moment, Yoongi’s eyes flutter closed because Jimin’s hands are just so warm, and soft, and gentle on him, always gentle on him, and he thinks he may be fitting too. 

Maybe Yoongi could just fit . 

When he opens his eyes again, Jimin is peppering kisses on his lips, on the corner of his mouth, and then on his nose. “I’m sorry, I’ll be good— good for daddy,” he promises, voice tamed and sweet between each kiss.

It takes a lot more than expected for Yoongi not to simply melt under Jimin’s affection. He hums in a low voice, pretending to think about it for a moment and enjoying how Jimin relaxes even more under him but lets his fingers tangle between his hair again and smiles a little bit playfully, “I just want to make you feel good too...”

Yoongi huffs out a silent laugh, partly because Jimin is both adorable and still a brat at the same time. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he says softly, pressing another kiss on Jimin’s plush lips. “But let me enjoy this for a while first. It seems to need some attention,” he murmurs, one hand sliding between them until it reaches Jimin’s hard cock, and Yoongi just… squeezes lightly, not taking his eyes off Jimin when he sees him arching his back, hips twitching, a moan escaping his lips.

Jimin turns his head, hiding his face in the pillow to muffle the pleasured groans spilling from his lips, while Yoongi keeps moving his hand around his cock, slowly, his finger circling the head and pulling down and up, precome spilling from the tip. Yoongi kisses down on his throat, open-mouthed kisses that are more tongue and teeth than proper kisses. He doesn’t leave evident marks but nibbles just a little bit harder to leave faint traces of his mouth here and there.

He slips down, kissing Jimin’s skin everywhere. His collarbones, his chest, one kiss for each letter of his NEVERMIND tattoo, tongue licking down from there to his pretty belly button. Yoongi stops when his mouth is near the perfect V line of his hips and looks up. Jimin is watching him, expression blissed, eyes focused on his mouth. His lips are reddened by how much he bit down to conceal his voice.

There is something a bit more than just lust in his eyes, Yoongi thinks. Considers. Jimin shifts a bit just to lower a hand into Yoongi's hair, moving away the blonde locks of his fringe. It’s just a moment, a spark of something. Yoongi blinks slowly, leaning into his touch for a second. But then he averts his gaze and bobs down his head to take Jimin’s length inside his mouth.

And Jimin thaws.

Yoongi already knows what Jimin likes. Usually, it takes him a short time to make him cum in his mouth when they are in a hurry, and one of them feels particularly needy. Yoongi has to tilt his head in a certain manner, lick at a certain point between his balls, press his finger in a certain way, and Jimin would come. But now, he takes his time to do what he wants because that is supposed to be the mindset. Yoongi licks, and kisses, and sucks, fingers wet with spit and precome sliding between his asscheeks to find his rim and play around with the tips of his fingers, teasingly — it’s everything Jimin likes, but not quite how Jimin really needs it.

And after a while, thighs trembling and hands gripping at the bedsheets, Jimin looks down at him with a frown on his lips, gaze just a little bit unfocused, panting and sweaty, his cheeks flushed with the perfect shade of pink. “You’re so mean,” he whines, trying to move his hips in a way that would have the tip of his cock between Yoongi’s lips again.

But Yoongi keeps him still with both hands, one around his cock, and the other one on his belly, both arms under Jimin’s legs. “Oh, am I, now? Is my sweetheart not enjoying that daddy is giving him all his mouth?”

Jimin hesitates, the pout on his lips fading for a moment when a bit of confusion crosses his face. Yoongi looks attentively at him, trying to figure out what is going on in his mind without pausing the scene, but if it’s needed, he can stop. He’ll always do only what Jimin needs. He’s about to ask Jimin if he wants to call colors—

“I like it, but I want to make daddy feel good,” Jimin interrupts the train of Yoongi’s thoughts with his soft voice, just a little bit whiny on the edges. “I’m a go-good boy,” he murmurs, sniffling. His eyes are shiny with small unshed tears. There is not a single ounce of pain or distress across his features, so Yoongi calms down instantly.

“You deserve a reward,” Yoongi decides, sliding the index finger into Jimin’s ass, past the rim.

Jimin yelps softly, partly in surprise, but keeps his eyes on Yoongi’s, and smiles, the corners of his lips curling up softly, “Yeah? Because I’ve been good? Made daddy happy?”

Yoongi smiles again, “Very good,” he hums pressing his finger slowly inside Jimin. It’s a delicate movement, really. He gives Jimin time to adjust, breathe, and regain some focus when he moves to insert another finger. “Made daddy very happy,” he murmurs, a little bit more affected than how expected from everything. He looks away from Jimin before fuzzy thoughts can cloud his brain and takes his cock in his mouth again, all the way down.

He doesn’t like deepthroat, his mouth is small, and his jaw hurts, but for Jimin— he takes him all in his mouth, while his finger moves deep and slowly inside him, listens to Jimin moaning a succession of oh my gods and daddys , his hands both reaching down. One between Yoongi’s locks, and the other one… gripping hard around his wrist until he manages to slide and intertwine his fingers with Yoongi’s free hand.

Jimin comes loud when Yoongi finds his prostate and spills inside his mouth, on his tongue, curling to himself, body crossed all over with pleasure. Yoongi keeps his eyes on Jimin even when parting his lips, licking away the remnants of cum from his cock, and sliding his fingers outside him, one hand still laced with Jimin’s. He looks at him and thinks he’s so beautiful he could fall again if he ever stopped falling for him in all these years.

They don’t talk for at least ten minutes while Jimin regains a bit of himself back, and the grip of his hand around Yoongi’s becomes a little less strong. He smiles softly, looking up at him in the, now, blue hue of the light that changed again. “Hey,” he whispers.

“Hey,” Yoongi smiles.

Jimin pulls, beckoning Yoongi to lay over him again. He slides his arms around Yoongi’s shoulders and bumps their noses together, playfully and sweet. “Thank you,” he murmurs, kissing him deep and slowly, despite how Yoongi must taste right now.

And Yoongi melts again, kissing him back and circling his waist in a hug, bodies pressed together, warmth spreading all over. He didn’t get the chance to come, but he doesn’t even care when Jimin’s hums sound so satiated, his body feels so relaxed and pliant under his fingers, smelling like a whole garden of roses. Yoongi plants his face in the crook of Jimin’s neck and inhales, eyes closing, basking in his embrace.

It’s okay. Yoongi can wait; he always will.

But even if nothing more happens tonight, he’s still completely satisfied, a pleasant buzz spreading under his skin.

He almost drifts to sleep, still embracing Jimin, when he feels the younger lips brushing on his cheek, peppering feather-light kisses to his ear, and whispering with a soft voice, “ Daddy , I still want you to fill me up—”

The sentence ends there only because Yoongi opens his eyes and tilts his head, cupping Jimin’s face with both hands and kissing his mouth shut. Jimin giggles at first, even in the kiss, but when Yoongi slides his leg between his and rubs against his nakedness, the giggles turn into quiet, breathy moans.

“You’re such a good boy,” Yoongi tries. Jimin shudders in delight, nodding frantically a couple of times, lips parted around a silent yes. “All for me to take, and fuck,” he says then. Jimin whimpers some nonsense, hips rolling again against him, and Yoongi notices he’s hard again.

“Who do you belong to?” Yoongi murmurs, gaze shifting down to Jimin’s lips for a moment.

“Daddy,” Jimin pants, “only daddy.”

His hand slides down between them, Yoongi cups Jimin’s cock with all his palm and presses, “Whose this cock belong to?”

Jimin rolls back his head, going completely slack under Yoongi, while he palms at his cock. Yoongi can’t help but kiss the side of his neck again, letting his tongue slide, teeth barely brushing his soft skin. “D- duh -daddy,” Jimin blabbers, unfocused, “belongs to daddy-” 

“That’s right,” Yoongi mutters, lips pressed against Jimin’s nipple, “Mine,” he whispers before opening his mouth and giving it an open kiss, tongue flat against the spot. He jerks off Jimin at a slow pace, while pinching his nipple and then the other one with his lips, until Jimin is squirming, breathy moans, and cock twitching every time Yoongi’s tongue flicks the sensitive nipple. 

It’s only after a bit more teasing, and a lot of please , that Yoongi withdraws and leans over the nightstand, opening the first drawer to see the bottle of lube rolling to the side of the drawer. Orange flavor. Yoongi snorts, then smiles — doesn’t even know why he is smiling, maybe it’s just the idea of Jimin sneaking the lube in his baggage without them agreeing beforehand, or the fact that he chose something Yoongi would like for sure. He takes the lube while Jimin props up on his elbows and looks at him. Yoongi blinks, hoping the surprise won’t be too obvious when he sees his smile mirrored on Jimin’s lips.

It’s always when he smiles like that, all gentle and sweet, that Yoongi feels himself shifting a tad bit closer, revolving like a moon around the planet that Jimin is.

“Let me,” Jimin whispers, drawing Yoongi’s attention away from his thoughts. When did Jimin come this close? He takes the lube from his fingers and kisses his mouth with a peck. Knees on the mattress between Yoongi’s legs, Jimin undresses him. Takes off his shirt and pajama shorts, looking down to his crotch with a blush deepening. “I’m gonna take care of you,” he says, pushing him down into the bed with the palm of his hand pressed on his chest.

Yoongi huffs out a breath, looking at Jimin, who pauses for a moment to take in all his naked glory. Yoongi has built some muscles, too, and Jimin, being his touchy self, lets his fingers cross all the curves and bumps of his shoulders down to his collarbones and chest. He pinches one of his nipples, not too much, but with that gentle pull that always cuts off his breath.

Both his hands slide on Jimin’s sides when the younger sits astride his legs again, caps of the lube opening with a pop and slicking his hand with a sly smirk slowly blooming on his lips. Jimin likes it messy, Yoongi remembers. His breath slows down when Jimin lowers his hands on his cock, taking it between his fingers and slowly jerking him off.

Yoongi looks down at his cock flushed pink between Jimin’s smaller hands. He always loves how Jimin touches him, one hand at the base of his cock and the other one, palm flat, rubbing at the head. Sometimes it tingles, sometimes it’s a bit aching, but Jimin makes it hurt so good. He presses his lips together, inhaling from his nostrils when Jimin pulls a little more, his body twitching involuntarily.

God, Jimin would be just so perfect—

“—so big,” Jimin is saying. And Yoongi blushes in embarrassment because he, again, was lost in his head. Yoongi licks his lips and caresses Jimin’s waist, fingers slumping on the soft flesh of his sides nicely. He’s about to say something when Jimin talks again, his gaze focused down on Yoongi’s cock, “How will daddy fit?” he pouts.

Right. Yoongi snaps out of his feelings again . Daddy.

Yoongi inhales, hips rolling up and leaning into Jimin’s hands teasingly. “Daddy can play a little bit more with his pretty’s hole. Stretching him well, nice and wet— like daddy likes him.”

Jimin bites down on his lower lip, eyes slowly trailing up to look into Yoongi’s. And there he sees again that something that looks a lot like a much bigger feeling than just a fuck here and there between the schedules. But then Jimin smirks, sliding up, arching his hips and back in a way that only he could make look absolutely sinful, and simply sits on Yoongi’s cock. Takes him in.

Yoongi’s eyes roll on the back of his head because it’s all wet, and tight , and the squelching sound of the lube while Jimin sits down inch after inch taking all his cock inside himself, is one of the dirtiest sounds Yoongi has ever heard, except maybe for the moans escaping Jimin’s throat, perfectly synchronized with the groan that leaves Yoongi’s mouth in that exact moment.

Jimin trembles a bit over him, hands pressing down on his chest to hold himself, and Yoongi pants, keeping him still while he adjusts — he feels his cock completely enveloped, Jimin’s insides squeezing, tight, tight, tight. He could come just like this: sinking deep inside Jimin without moving.

For a brief second, he wonders if this is yet another kink he might add to the list of research before trailing his hands over Jimin’s thighs, massaging his muscles and helping him relax, and soothing his shuddering. “Pretty little thing,” Yoongi smiles, voice lowering when Jimin lets out a shaky breath, “taking my cock so well. It’s almost as if you were made for it, hm? No other use, just a nice cutie who likes to be fucked silly.”

Jimin nods dumbly, mouth hanging open, he closes his eyes and rolls his hips, encouraged by every word spilling from Yoongi’s mouth. He likes the praises, basks in them like a cat in the sun, and Yoongi won’t deny them, “Just like that, use that nice body… dance on daddy’s cock.”

Yoongi keeps almost still, but all his body is tense under Jimin’s, trying to focus all his attention on his reactions to avoid coming too soon. He wants to feel it, keep feeling Jimin moving around him, almost sucking his cock into his ass when he lifts up, only to slide over him again. And again, and again, and yet another time when he stills his movements for a second with a needy moan.

“What is it, pretty? Why so upset?” Yoongi asks when Jimin lowers down to hide his face in his neck, mumbling something about not finding it . Yoongi chuckles lightly, arms moving to circle his waist in a hug. He turns his face to plant a kiss on Jimin’s sweaty temple and then another one when he feels Jimin relaxing a bit again.

“You want to find that nice spot again?” Yoongi asks. Jimin nods. “But you can’t?” he asks again. And Jimin nods again, with an annoyed groan leaving his lips. “That’s because you’re a baby boy, and you need me to help you, yes?”

Jimin lifts his face to look up at him, the faint light of the lamp fading from blue to purple and casting a nice light on his features. He looks absolutely blissed out but blinks away a bit of confusion as long as a single tear that Yoongi promptly kisses away. “Yes, please.”

“Because you’ve been good and polite, I’ll help you,” Yoongi says, and kisses all over his face again, making Jimin giggle, that little, lovely giggle that ends with a barely perceptible squeak. “Off, off, lie down on your belly,” Yoongi says, slapping lightly Jimin’s ass a couple of times while he moves, doesn’t expect Jimin’s breath to get caught in his throat, and the way he leans into his hand but doesn’t tease him about it, while he lies down on the bed, legs spread at an impossible angle — he’s so flexible - –. 

Yoongi positions himself behind Jimin, both hands spreading his asscheeks, lowering down to give a long, slow, lap from his balls, up to his asshole. He feels Jimin tensing under him, but keeps him still with both hands, while he licks around the rim, before closing his lips around it and sucking gently. Jimin is a whimpering mess, muscles clenching around the emptiness he fills only with his tongue a couple of times, teasingly. 

It’s only when he hears the third desperate plea that he withdraws with a last open-mouthed kiss, and moves upwards, draping his arms around Jimin. One hand reaches his chest, pressing his fingers around one of his nipples, and plants the other one near his head, crouching down to kiss the warm skin of Jimin’s nape. “I’m here, pearl…” he murmurs softly, pushing himself inside Jimin again, slowly, fully. He stills for a moment, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead between Jimin’s shoulder blades, “God, you’re so perfect–”

“Just-–!” Jimin burst out, clenching around his cock, hands grabbing into the cushion under him until his knuckles become white for the force of the grip, “---just fuck me already, please God, I can’t— I-I need—” 

Yoongi laughs then starts moving again, lips closing around that pretty mole on Jimin’s neck and sucking, without biting down on the flesh even if the temptation is strong. He thrusts into Jimin at a fast pace, effectively pinning him down to the mattress with his body. The only sounds in the rooms are Jimin’s moans, a succession of breathy pleads, and right there that makes Yoongi’s cock twitch on more than one occasion. He never stops calling him pretty, filling that need for praise just as much as he’s filling him with his cock. From Yoongi’s lips, there is a freefall of kisses and love.

“Oh God, love y —love it, hyu— daddy, hah —” Jimin turns his head, peeking at Yoongi from the corner of his eye. He always wants to look him in the eye when he comes, and he doesn’t have to say anything for Yoongi to lean closer and move a little bit on the side to look back at him. Jimin then smiles, blissfully, and then opens his lips in a hushed moan, body trembling and eyes rolling back while he comes. 

Yoongi slows down, taking a breather and just admiring Jimin, one hand sliding up to cup his head, fingers sinking between his long, soft hair. The younger one leans into the touch with a sigh of satisfaction, but then blinks his eyes open to look at Yoongi again and, with a smile that looks a little bit more mischievous than how he expected, bends his knees upward to trap Yoongi and prevent him to move away, “--give it to me. Fill me up.”

“Fuck—” Yoongi sighs, arms secured around Jimin, and fucks a little bit harsher, a little bit harder and erratic, moans matching with Jimin’s soft ones… until he stills, coming deep inside him.

He doesn’t know how much time it needs for him to come down from it. Sex with Jimin is always nice and leaves a pleasant feeling all over him. But right now it’s different. Everything was a little bit more intense than usual, and when he slowly slips out from Jimin, wincing at the friction, and plops down near him, he feels a little more spent than usual. 

The light of the night lamp goes off, and for a moment everything is just darkness in the room. Yoongi closes his eyes for just a second – and then Jimin is leaning over him, kissing gently the tip of his nose, with a hand cupping his cheek, thumb brushing the soft skin under his eye. 

“Do you want to take a shower with me?” Jimin asks.

Yoongi feels lazy, blinks his eyes open for a moment, and then closes them again, nodding slowly. He doesn’t know why Jimin laughs, all soft and cute, but it’s a nice sound. “Come on,” he says, “I’ll help you.”

Now it’s Jimin who takes initiative, who helps him get up from the mess of sheets on the bed and takes him to the bathroom. Jimin turns the water to the right temperature, not too hot and not too cold. Perfectly warm. They walk in the shower with tangled hands. He takes his shower gel and spreads it onto Yoongi’s damp skin, lips sealing soft kisses on Yoongi’s mouth all the time; there is nothing sexual in that gesture, but it’s nice, it makes him feel all warm. He makes Yoongi turn around so he could wash his hair, planting soft kisses on his nape when rinsing away the foaming shampoo. Jimin hugs him, arms circling his waist from behind, and keeps them under the warm water until all the tiredness has left Yoongi’s body.

When they have finished, Jimin wraps Yoongi in the biggest towel and uses another one to rub his hair dry, before leaving the bathroom to retrieve some clean clothes for him. They have the ones of the official merchandise, big soft tee-shirts, and sweatpants that are perfect to bask in comfort. He handles Yoongi the clothes and excuses himself, leaving him alone to get dressed. 

Yoongi awaits for a moment, blinking when he notices the foggy mirror in front of him. His reflection looks a little bit upset, nose pink, and cheeks still a bit flushed from the warm temperature. He doesn’t know why the Yoongi in the mirror is crying, he wants to ask, but can’t. Doesn’t want to acknowledge the tears. 

He sniffles and turns away, wiping his face before getting dressed and leaving the bathroom.

Jimin’s room basks in the dull, greyish hue of the early morning, peeking from the curtains. Yoongi finds him lying on the bed, sheets changed with the dirty ones discharged in a corner of the room. His head is propped up with two cushions and he’s scrolling down his phone but looks up from it when he hears Yoongi.

And he smiles. Tiny and sleepy, and adorable.

And Yoongi— he can’t. 

He can’t pour all his feelings on him, because Jimin has never asked for them. They never agreed on something more than what they have, and besides, it’s time that Yoongi needs to learn how to love him without loving him. 

It’s just a different kind of feeling, a little bit quieter and a little less complicated, and, surely, a lot more accepted, both from Jimin and from the rest of the world.

“I’m going back to my room,” he murmurs, missing the way Jimin’s face falls, it’s still too dark. 

“Sure,” Jimin's voice is hushed. “Goodnight then?”

“Yeah, goodnight.” 

—

The weather is misty when Yoongi steps out of the small house to reach the one where he sleeps with Seokjin. The clock on the phone says it’s six in the morning, and he pads slowly, blinking away some tears escaping with a big yawn. He’s too tired to deal with complex feelings right now, the forest is too quiet and the air around him it’s too still, his thoughts too loud in his head, he doesn’t want to feel overwhelmed for too long. 

He pauses his step at the entrance of the building to get off his slippers, taking a long steadying breath before entering the sliding door. Yoongi halts when he sees Seokjin sprawled on the white sofa, still wrapped in the “good day” pajamas he himself designed, pinning something on the wall with an unfocused gaze. 

“Hyung, already up?” Yoongi asks, his voice lower than he expected.

Seokjin seems to startle lightly but then shakes his head, lips pursed in a pout, “Hobi came here to wake me up to go for a morning walk, but I’m too old for that.” He pauses and slowly turns his gaze towards Yoongi, studies him with a look, and then curls his plush lips in a knowing smirk, “Ayyyy, Yoongi-ah…” he teases. 

Obviously, it took him a look to understand everything.

Yoongi closes the door behind him, thinks about what to reply for a second, and then shakes his head, waddling to his room. 

“I didn’t say anything!” it’s the last thing Yoongi hears from Seokjin, before he closes his door and flops on his bed, the tiredness finally getting the better of him.

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120321, Los Angeles

The last day of concerts just ended, and Yoongi feels tired to the bone, but he also feels his need to perform in front of thousands of screaming Armys completely sated. He’s happy and feels warm and full when they reach the hotel after leaving the venue.

“Hyung!” Jimin calls him from the end of the corridor.

Yoongi stops in front of his room, door open, and looks at Jimin who’s hopping toward him with a pretty smile on his lips. Yoongi doesn’t know how Jimin manages to look so handsome even after four days of concerts and interviews, the shows, and the AMAs, but he does. Hair pulled back in a loose bun, wearing ripped jeans and the black, large tee he stole some nights ago from his suitcase. “Are you too tired?” 

“Why?” he asks , entering his room and leaving the door open for Jimin to follow him inside — he does —. “Do you want to eat something with hyung? I’ve got some ramyun, and we could order some steak,” he mumbles, stopping near the cabinets in the room to check all the instant food packed for them in case they have some late-night cravings.

Jimin stands behind him, sliding one arm on his shoulder to reach his chest and give him a soft rub while propping his chin on the other shoulder. “I could eat something,” he says nonchalantly, his voice soft. When Yoongi is about to reach for a couple of packs of instant noodles, he feels Jimin’s lips brushing on the side of his neck, a soft kiss that manages to ignite a spark inside Yoongi. He freezes on the spot, leaning a little bit back against Jimin’s chest.

It shouldn’t be so easy to fall into Jimin, but for Yoongi it is. Even after all the months of nothing, since that night in July. 

The spark slowly spreads like a whole fire, from where Jimin’s hand is pressed on his chest, filling him with something warm and dizzying. “Jimin-ah,” he breathes. Jimin hums lowly, lips parting to give a small kitten licks on his skin. 

Somebody knocks at the door of Yoongi’s room, making both of them startle in surprise. From the outside, one of their managers says something about meeting up with the others in twenty minutes to discuss some point in their schedules and they said they ordered food to eat and drink together with the staff.

Jimin lets his other arm slide around his waist, hiding his face in the crook of Yoongi’s nape and hides there an annoyed groan. “I hate it here,” he mumbles, his voice a little bit whiny. 

Yoongi chuckles softly, turning around between Jimin’s arms and cupping his face with both hands. He looks into his eyes for a moment, and the pout melts away from the younger’s lips. “It will be fun,” he presses a peck on the tip of his nose, “And we still need to shower. You stink.”

“That’s mean! You do too but I was ready to swallow you whole!” Jimin retorts. 

“I didn’t ask for it,” Yoongi says playfully.

Jimin pinches his sides with his fingers, but then leans closer to kiss the tip of his nose once, twice, “Let’s shower together, and after the dinner, maybe we can,” he leans in to whisper into his ear, “try that thing .”

Yoongi’s eyes grow wide. He doesn’t need to ask, he already knows. 

He remembers well the day Jimin shared with him that specific idea. The younger one had read about it somewhere and never said where specifically, but Twitter is a place full of wonders. It’s a specific kind of practice that never really piqued Yoongi’s interest, but after reading about it and talking about limits and boundaries with Jimin, Yoongi found the thought arousing. 

If he ever was opposed to trying something like that, which he never was, by the way, he would have never been opposed to trying it with Jimin. It’s a matter of trust, and trust is something that Yoongi gave to Jimin a long time ago.

He nods, not saying anything. It’s not needed. They part ways to take a shower and change clothes, and if Yoongi arrives a little bit late to the meeting with the others, it’s just because he needs some more time to get ready . 

But nobody else aside from Jimin needs to know that.

—

The dinner is not as long as Yoongi expected. 

After the short reunion, it’s mostly to organize everything for the month-long hiatus the agency gave them. Some of them will return to South Korea in some days, while others still have other things to do here in the US. Yoongi himself has some appointments, for business or otherwise. 

Most of the time, though, Yoongi spends the evening glancing at Jimin, or spacing out between the bites of bulgogi the staff managed to order. He sees Jimin drinking only a glass of soju, which is unusual for him. When people joke with him about it, he simply shrugs it off saying he’s too tired even to get drunk.

Yoongi excuses himself first, receiving some complaints about him being a grandpa, and maybe he really is, but his eyes keep closing. When walking near Jimin, Yoongi slips the copy of his room card into his pocket, waddles away to reach his room and finally, and finally , throws himself on the bed.

And waits.

He’s aware he’s drifting in and off to sleep when, the third time he actually awakes, it’s almost two in the morning and he’s still alone in his room. Jimin probably fell asleep in his room, he was tired too, all of them are. 

Tired, but happy.

So, why does Yoongi feel this sensation of emptiness in his chest all of a sudden? Why does he feel like he needs to cry, even if he’s too tired to do so? He closes his eyes shut to prevent any tears from rolling down, abandoning the phone on the bed and turning to his side, legs bent and hands between his knees. 

—

Yoongi wakes up again, hearing the distant sound of a door closing somewhere behind him. He tries to open his eyes to look around, but he’s too tired for that. He thinks he should look, but when the mattress bends under the weight of someone, and a faint whiff of shower gel that smells like roses reaches him, he decides against opening his eyes. One arm drapes around his middle and the person’s chest presses gently on his back. It’s warm.

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” Jimin murmurs into his ear. It’s Jimin. Yoongi’s body relaxes completely, he thinks he should reply something and opens his mouth to speak, but a kiss on his cheek distracts him. He smiles, he thinks, and hears Jimin chuckling softly. “You’re so cute, hyung… go back to sleep—” 

He is saying something else, but Yoongi can’t hear it well, all his body going limp as Jimin envelopes him in his hug. The emptiness ebbing at him still there, but a little bit satiated.

—

It happens again, waking up from the slumber but feeling too tired to do something. It happens for a couple more times and both times because Jimin moves behind him, but he keeps spooning Yoongi, legs tangled together with his and one arm keeping him close, his palm flat on his chest. 

Sometimes he nuzzles into Yoongi’s nape, between his hair and feels him sigh. He must be tired.

It’s warm. 

“You’re so cute,” Jimin murmurs.

It’s all warm.

“-so pretty, hyung.”

It feels good.

“Baby…”

He feels…

“-if only you could see yourself–”

He feels full.

A whimper leaves his mouth before he can control it, it’s muffled, and weak. His eyes flutter open, but it’s dark in the room, the only lights coming from the street lamps below, partly hidden by the curtains. 

Jimin stills, his face pressed between Yoongi’s shoulder blades, he can feel his lips brushing his skin, his breath a bit shaky, his body shuddering slightly. Yoongi wonders when Jimin managed to get him naked, before understanding that he is not, the younger must have just raised the shirt to feel him – he likes that –.
Jimin holds his body pinned prone down to the mattress, but his touch is gentle, there is a delicate hand between his hair, slowly massaging his scalp. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind Yoongi is well aware that he can move away if he wants, if it hurts, if it’s too much, if it makes him uncomfortable, if, if, if .

He is awake enough to think about what’s happening, what he actually agreed to do: Jimin’s cock is buried deep inside him, he feels it, it’s hard. He’s hard too, almost painfully so, but doesn’t complain about it or anything.

He has time to realize that he doesn’t want to stop because it doesn’t hurt, he’s not feeling uncomfortable, and he feels… good. Yoongi takes a deep breath and then relaxes again. 

He’s not really asleep when Jimin starts moving again, though, it’s slow, gentle, and he feels the younger one shifting a little bit to lay his body on him, lips brushing the side of his cheek with soft kisses. Jimin has one hand still between his hair and with the other one reaches Yoongi’s, taking it and intertwining their fingers together, comforting. 

Jimin is everywhere as he has always been, but this time is different. All his life with Jimin was punctuated by moments that fluctuated between having him physically close, inside him, or simply having him in his mind, in his heart. Now, Jimin is there in both ways. Somehow. He fills him both physically and mentally, and covers his skin with kisses and gentle touches, reassuring, chasing away that emptiness that was a gaping hole since forever with a pouring cascade of hushed praises. 

It’s beautiful and overwhelming at the same time, and the tears that hadn’t spilled before, find a way to escape even if his eyes are closed. Yoongi doesn’t even realize he asks Jimin to not to go away, nor now, nor never. He doesn’t want to feel so alone ever again, his brain tells him Jimin is the one that can fill that void. The only one.

“It’s okay,” Jimin murmurs, “I’ve got you.” Jimin hugs him, covers his skin with kisses, fucks him deep without a single hurry.

Yoongi doesn’t realize Jimin is also crying.

He doesn’t realize the love words Jimin says after, the only thing buzzing in his mind is euphoria.

—

Yoongi blinks his eyes when the room’s light is a little bit brighter. He rubs his eyes, his brain still slow and tired, and tries to put together the things that happened some hours ago. The short meeting, the dinner, and coming back to his room to sleep.

Jimin.

He’s not sure if Jimin was really there or he had a fever dream. He remembers returning to his room alone, and then just the warmth. There is a white noise in the back of his mind, and when it finally becomes clear, it sounds a lot like Jimin humming “Permission to Dance” under the shower. 

Yoongi smiles to himself, cuddling back in his blankets. 

—

It’s only later, after Jimin leaves his room after a dull, “See you”, that Yoongi feels an unexpected wave of melancholy washing all over him.

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030122, Seoul

Yoongi sighs, chin propped in his palm and gaze unfocused on the keyboard in front of him. He’s listening to the beat he just created and debating whether it’s worth working on it a little bit more, or throwing it in the trash — or forgetting about it for a couple of years and then using it for some AgustD tracks.

Even though his mood is a little bit gloomy these days, music is helping put his thoughts on pause for a while. 

Things have been hectic. The month of hiatus in January was refreshing, but all that happened during that period were enough to be draining for everyone, from contracting the stupid virus after two years to avoiding it to the urgent hospitalization Jimin had to face and his surgery. And then the concerts in Seoul, which had been amazing, a whirlwind of positive emotion that filled every one of them from head to toe, even if they couldn’t hear Armys' voices. 

Despite all the positive things, Yoongi has found himself in a slump, after Jimin had sent him voice audio and called himself off from what they had. What hurt most was hearing Jimin trying to hide the tears behind a calm voice, and when Yoongi called him was only to let him cry freely on the phone while telling him that it was okay, he understood, that he was still his hyung like he’ll always be.

Yoongi can understand it, he really can. Jimin has a lot on his shoulders already, he truly doesn’t need to hide a relationship he never wanted, in the beginning, it’s only fair that Yoongi accepts the new boundaries without being too needy. It’s difficult, but he can do that much.

After that, everything shifted into a strange coldness.

Both Yoongi and Jimin know how to act in front of the cameras, so nobody notices how they are talking but without saying anything. They don’t interact too much when the cameras are off and when it’s just them with the other members, they avoid each other. It’s okay, Yoongi can give this to Jimin; maybe he just needs to understand that Yoongi won’t try to impose himself anymore. 

However, a couple of days ago, after the vlive with Namjoon, the leader called them out. He was gentle and posed as always, but he still suggested that they need to sort their shit out because it’s been years .

And Yoongi didn’t really need to pause and think about it for a while, because he is always thinking about Jimin. It’s just something that stays in the backdrop of his mind every day, at every hour: a program running in background that manages to make him work.

Even today, Jimin was physically near and occupying half of his brain. They spent the day together and shot a couple of videos for tiktok and some others that will be posted on youtube in a couple of months. They are also getting ready for the dates in Las Vegas (and the Grammys), but there is still much to do and some things to decide before the announcement of Proof . And it’s already late, but there are still a few songs that need to be considered to see if they could be part of the anthology and on which of the three albums, Yoongi has an idea of which song would be fine.

He talked about it with Jungkook for the past hour, the maknae hanging around in his studio to write some lyrics for a new song, and then stopped to chat for a while. Jungkook had listened to Yoongi’s idea silently, gaze focused on the ground while softly biting his lower lip, and then shrugged. “You’ll have to ask Jimin-hyung,” he had said, and there was an edge of something in his voice that Yoongi couldn’t really pinpoint. An urge. For what he doesn’t know.

So here he is, after today’s schedule, taking a moment to himself to not think about anything and drowning in his music. He pauses the beat after having listened to it for fifteen minutes and takes his phone to write to Jimin a quick “ I have something to ask, come to my studio? Hyung will treat you. ”

Jimin does not reply for a whole twenty minutes. Yoongi wonders if he read the messages when his studio door opens and Jimin peeks inside, one bag full of food that smells a lot like fried chicken in his hand. “I bought food, hyung,” he smiles, visibly proud of himself, and walks into the studio, the door behind him closing with a soft click .

Yoongi smiles, can’t help to keep at bay the warmth that spreads in his chest whenever Jimin is there, doing the bare minimum. He puts on some lo-fi music from a casual playlist, volume soft. They unpack the food, spreading the containers of fried chicken, small portions of side dishes, sauces, and drinks on the low coffee table; Jimin slides to sit on the floor, legs crossed and chopsticks in hand, “What did you want to ask me?”

Yoongi sits down on the floor near him, not too close, and looks at the food for a moment before picking some kimchi radish , munching around a bite, “Let’s eat first, we didn’t have time today, and we still have some hours of work. I have to do a short vlive later.”

Jimin uhms around a bite of chicken, don’t oppose. It’s easy to fall back to being normal around each other, there is buzzing happiness under Jimin’s skin, it comes out when they talk about anything in particular, and when Jimin shows him some funny edit he saw on twitter about their concerts in Seoul. He looks a little bit happier today, and somehow Jimin’s happiness bounces on him too, chasing away the numbness giggle after giggle.

It’s so soothing. Everything regarding Jimin is.

As time passes, and they finish eating, Yoongi starts feeling that stupid guilt coming back to gnaw at his brain. What he feels for Jimin is blooming again, and there is no way he could let it reach the younger one again. He shouldn’t have asked Jimin to come here, it was a stupid idea.

When Yoongi looks up from his bottle of water, Jimin is looking at him with an expecting gaze. Yoongi realizes the younger one asked him something while he was lost in his dreadful guilt, and now he opens his mouth a couple of times, before sighing softly, “I’m sorry, come again?”

Jimin pouts, shoulders slightly slumping, “You seem a little bit distracted lately, is there something going on?”

Yes.

“No,” Yoongi shakes his head. “It has been a long day, I’m just… a little bit more stuck in my head than usual.”

Jimin seems not convinced, he looks away, busying himself with closing the cups with the remnants of food and putting away the used chopsticks and plates. “You’ve been stuck in your head for a while now, hyung,” he murmurs. “Is it because of what happened in Los Angeles?”

Yoongi freezes, his fingers clutching at the water bottle between his hands. He doesn’t want to look at Jimin, he doesn’t think the younger one deserves to be weighed down by his feelings. He opens his mouth to say something—

“Look, I’m sorry,” Jimin mumbles, his body shifting to sit more comfortably, his back leaning against the couch behind them. “I know it’s wrong, I really didn’t mean to say that while you were in that headspace, I should have handled it better, but…”

“Wait,” Yoongi mumbles quietly, pursing his lips in a frown, “what are you talking about?”

Jimin’s lips pop open, and he fidgets nervously with his sweater paws, until Yoongi leans in, one hand on the younger’s smaller ones. Jimin relaxes instantly, taking in a deep breath. “You know that last night when I… when we…” he pauses, glancing shily in his direction. There is a blush dusting his cheeks, and Yoongi understands. He nods, looking away, giving him time to gather his thoughts. “Well you were in a certain place, mentally, and I… I asked you if you wanted to stop. But you said green, and when I asked you if you were sure, you said something and it got in my head, I think.”

Yoongi remembers it. If he thinks deeply about it, he remembers all the times he awoke and Jimin asked him how he felt. He felt respected, and cherished, all the time, even in his vulnerability. But he can’t remember anything else, “Um… okay?”

Jimin’s eyes grow wide, he looks up from their hands holding together and searches his gaze. “I swear I didn’t mean to drop it on you in that way, I just felt overwhelmed and it slipped… I know you don’t want anything serious, that’s why I took a step back. But if what I said still makes you uncomfortable, please, hyung tell me how to fix it. Tell me how I can get us back to what we had before… before everything.”

Yoongi blinks, gaze focusing on Jimin’s features. He looks worried, sad even, there is a trace of tears in his eyes and when one of them slips past the rim of Jimin’s eyes, Yoongi catches it with his thumb. “Jimin-ah, I’m not sure I’m understanding what you are saying, but,” he pauses for a moment, palm pressing on his cheek in a comforting caress, “I thought you needed to take a breather from me, not because you thought I needed it…”

Jimin huffs out a small laugh, leaning into his touch. He tilts his head and presses a kiss into the palm of Yoongi’s hand. He feels a tingle in that spot. “No, I…” he takes a breath, closing his eyes for a moment before looking up at him again.

There is something in his gaze, an emotion that looks a lot like something Yoongi already knows, an emotion from which he fed in the past years without even really feeling satiated. But he doesn’t dare to hope, he’s not so brave. 

Yoongi keeps quiet, his hand moving only to brush some of Jimin’s locks between his ear, they grew so long…

 “I love you, hyung.”

Yoongi’s hand stills. He looks into Jimin’s eyes again. He already heard Jimin saying it in the past, but this time it sounds a little bit different than the others. This time sounds a little more personal and deep. It’s almost like…

“And I mean it. I truly love you, it took me a while to understand it but I do,” Jimin continues, gaze trailing down slowly, trying to hide his embarrassment. “There is no point in hiding it anymore, now, it has no use and it lead us to this point, and I…” he frowns, pressing his lips in a thin line. “You were crying and I thought I was hurting you but you said how much you loved me and asked me to stay, and I got emotional, and…” 

It’s all clear. The oppressing feeling he had felt on his chest slips away immediately, he doesn't need much to realize what Jimin is telling him. It is as clear as a mirror. Jimin cries a silent and quiet cry, his shoulders shaking with barely perceptible sobs and his head bowed. 

Yoongi feels another tear on his skin and that's when he leans forward. He slips his hand under Jimin's chin, gently tilts his head back, and presses a kiss on the tip of his nose, making him smile. 

"I love you too, Jimin-ah," he whispers, "Always had, always will. I'm sorry it took me so incredibly long to understand you. If you let me, I’d like to make it up to you, and explain why the only thing I want is to take you out on a date."

Jimin listens to him, then smiles so brightly that his eyes turn into crescents. “You can’t if I take you on a date first. Which will happen once we have cleared our schedules sometime next week.”

Yoongi snorts, “This is not a competition.”

“Oh but it is!” Jimin’s voice raises a bit, excited. But Yoongi doesn’t mind that, because there is something in his voice that deeply resonates within him: something that sparks happiness and floods all over. 

He doesn’t mind any of it.

—

“So are you guys sure? You don’t want to put another song?” the producer team manager asks, marking down something on his tablet. 

They’re all reunited in the meeting room, all Bangtan and the production team. Since the last song to put on the third album was a choice up to Yoongi, no one says anything. Yoongi and Jimin had talked with the members beforehand and they have all agreed to the choice made.

Yoongi looks at Jimin, who’s already looking back at him with a serene face. It’s been a couple of weeks, and everything feels right. The right place, the right mindset, the right person. 

He nods, jotting down a couple of notes on his yellow notepad. “I think it’s the right choice. We discussed it and we all agree.”

The producer looks up at him for a moment, a gentle smile on his lips. “You’ll have to record it again, won’t it be too much work for you?”

Yoongi shakes his head, eyes glancing down at the small doodle Jimin is drawing on the corner of the sheet. “I never said I didn’t have a copy to work on already, it just needs a couple of adjustments.”

Seokjin looks up from Jungkook’s phone, pausing their quiet chatting about something in tomorrow's schedule. A smirk playing on his lips, “Do not ever say that to Armys, they still remember when you said there wasn’t no AgustD two and then you dropped that banger two days after. They’ll ask for your head this time.”

There is a round of quiet laughs, Yoongi finds himself pouting a bit, trying to hide his embarrassment, “Ah hyung… it was a surprise.”

“Okay, it’s settled then. The seventh track for the album will be Tony Montana featuring Jimin. Moving on to the eight…”

The reunion continues for a while. Yoongi glances down when Jimin moves slightly, abandoning his drawing on the notebook to take some notes on his phone. 

On the sheet in front of him, there are two chibi versions of them performing on the stage, the word “irreplaceable” written all around.

He looks away, one hand moving under the table to find Jimin’s one already willing to take it. 

Truly irreplaceable.