#dawnstruck drabbles: BTS
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Yoonmin Drabble #24
Warnings for Character Death
Accidentally written for @limitlessmonster
“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay,” Yoongi says insistently. He doesn’t know how he feels so calm. So focused. His entire world seems to be zeroed in on Jimin. But, perhaps, that is the kind of normalcy that tethers him to the moment. Jimin, his center, his core. His heart.
“It’s not okay, it’s not,” Jimin sobs. He has taken off his jacket and is pressing it to Yoongi’s side, feebly trying to staunch the bleeding. The jacket had been a Christmas present from Taehyung. Versace, Yoongi remembers, remembers thinking how well the azure went with Jimin’s complexion. Now, the blue has turned black with blood. Red is seeping through the spaces between Jimin’s fingers.
“We have to call an ambulance,” Jimin is saying. His words are slurred with tears and he twists his head, wipes his nose against his shoulder, a childish move, but strangely endearing.
Yoongi smiles.
“There’s not gonna be time,” he knows. He knew it the moment he was hit. He’s made his peace with it.
The pain is lesser now, the searing burn of it dulled to a blunt throbbing that’s turning his limbs numb. The edges of his vision are growing fuzzy. He can barely keep his head up. It’s not gonna be long now.
“This is a really shitty first date,” he jokes. Perhaps this is what they call gallows humor.
Jimin’s head jerks up, his eyes wide. They’re a smear of blood at the corner of his mouth, like lipstick or candied apple. Yoongi thinks about kissing him.
“Date?” Jimin whispers. It’s difficult to hear over the static in Yoongi’s ears.
“Hah.” A wet chuckle, a bitter taste in his mouth. Perhaps his stomach got torn open, too. “Should’ve made that clearer, huh? Should’ve asked you out properly. I’m such a fucking coward.”
Death at his fingertips, yet heartbreak is still his greatest fear. He hasn’t even been able to put his feelings into songs.
Jimin is hiccupping now, his breath uneven. His hands are still on Yoongi but the pressure has lessened; he must have accepted that he won’t make a difference.
“You’ll have to make it up to me,” he says, hair falling into his eyes. “During our second date, you’ll have to make it up to me.”
It’s a beautiful fantasy. Yoongi closes his eyes.
“I want to take you to an aquarium,” he says. He can see the brightly colored fish, the look of wonder on Jimin’s face, illuminated in ocean blue. “I know it’s cliché, but I’d really like to kiss you there.”
Jimin’s fingers tremble.
“Where?” he asks. “Which pool?”
“The jellyfish,” Yoongi tells him. “They look like they are floating. Weightless.”
He feels weightless, too, in a way, but heavy at the same time. He wants to put his hands on Jimin, hold on to him, but his arms are burdens at his side. His eyelids are like lead.
It’s a pity. He’d like to look at Jimin some more. Like for him to be the last thing that he sees.
“Jiminie,” he says. “Can you do me a favor?”
“Anything,” Jimin says, hastily. “Anything, I- hyung.”
“Can you smile for me?” Yoongi asks, though he knows it’s a selfish wish. “Your smile is so beautiful.”
A beat of silence. Yoongi almost thinks he’s asked too much. Then-
“Okay,” Jimin says, shuddering out a breath. “Okay.”
Yoongi forces his eyes open.
Jimin’s eyes are swollen wish salt and there are tear tracks on his cheeks, rivulets through his makeup. His hair is a mess, his previously carefully styled bangs windswept and tangled. The splatter of blood is still on his skin, unchanged.
But he is smiling, smiling like a crescent moon like a comet’s tail like a sunray splintered on water, iridescent and ephemeral.
Park Jimin is the most beautiful thing Yoongi has ever seen. Will ever see.
“Thanks,” he says. The back of his head is on the concrete now, and his mind seems to be pulled down by gravity and something more. “I was wrong.”
A sharp inhale. He hadn’t noticed but his eyes have fallen shut again. Jimin probably stopped smiling but that’s alright. He’ll do it again, someday.
“About what?” Jimin asks. His voice sounds flat now, like he has exhausted the well of his feelings. He’ll cry again, too, but Yoongi hopes it won’t be for too long.
“It’s a good date,” he slurs. His tongue feels unwieldy. His thoughts do, too. “Best ‘ve had.”
“Why?”
“’cause it was with you,” Yoongi mutters. To him, it’s obvious. He doesn’t know why Jimin would be asking.
“Mine, too,” Jimin tells him. He sounds choked up again. “I was waiting for you to ask me. I’m happy.”
“Yeah.” Yoongi nods his head. He thinks he does. Maybe he isn’t really moving anymore. “m’ too.”
And he is.
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When the Lights Are Low
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2JelqqY
by dawnstruck
Namjoon's life as definded by a series of accidents in the form of a bond, a baby, and an ever-growing love for his best friend.
[This is a collection of scenes and drabbles from Namjoon's perspective during and beyond the events of Never Be the Same, which must definitely be read first to ensure understanding. Suggestions and requests are welcome.]
Words: 2350, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English
Fandoms: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: M/M
Relationships: Kim Namjoon | RM/Min Yoongi | Suga
Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, alpha!namjoon, omega!yoongi, Intersex Omegas, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Pregnancy, Idol 'verse, Canon, Mating Bond, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Spin-Off, Namjoon POV
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2JelqqY
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BTS Drabble Masterpost
BTS Drabble Masterpost
Yoonmin
#1 Jimin taking care of sick Yoongi
#2 The moment Jimin realizes he is in love
#3 Angry kisses, jealousy, pet names
#4 Stolen kisses in secret
#5 Power bottom!Yoongi (NSFW)
#6 Yoonmin in Daegu, after Jikook in Tokyo
#7 First time + fingering (NSFW)
#8 Yoonmin getting caught
#9 Jealous Yoongi
#10 Coming out to their parents
#11 Yoongi taking care of drunk Jimin
#12 Inspired by Little Mix – Secret Love Song
#13 Insecure Jimin + soft Yoongi
#14 Future fic/kidfic
#15 CEO!Yoongi and dance teacher!Jimin
#16 Sleepy sex and snow (NSFW)
#17 revealing releationship after hiding it for years
#18 Inspired by Ed Sheeran - Friends
#19 breakup for the greater good + public apology
#20 post-breakup + serenading the other in public
#21 Outsider POV + domestic
#22 Wall sex/sex standing up (NSFW)
#23 Sparks fly at reunion after disbandment
#24 Character Death
Taekook
#1 Holding hands at the AMAs
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Yoonmin drabble #6
“People think you're dating,” Yoongi says before Jimin has even set his bags down.
“I- what?” he asks in confusion, straightening up again, glancing at Yoongi who is sitting on the couch in the living-room.
“People think you and Jungkookie are dating,” Yoongi explains, lowering his tablet. “Because of the video.”
Jimin cannot help but snort.
“People always think we're dating,” he points out. “I once helped Joon-hyung up when he slipped on the stage, and people thought that meant were are dating.”
“But this is different,” Yoongi insists and his pout is more adorable than he probably intends. “These people aren't ARMY.”
“What do you mean?” Jimin frowns. He's slipping his jacket off his shoulders and joining Yoongi on the couch, leaning into his side so he can look at whatever Yoongi's been viewing on his tablet.
“There.” Yoongi points to one of the comments underneath the G.C.F. in Tokyo video on Youtube. “People think it's one of those LGBT support trailers – or even your honeymoon! Here, there's another one.”
Jimin barely has time to skim the English words when Yoongi is already scrolling down. Unsurprisingly, the comments by unsuspecting viewers who didn't know anything about BTS and merely took the clip for a couple's travel log got the most upvotes, which only made fans lose their minds over them.
“Yoongi-yah,” Jimin sighs, nudging his cold tip of his nose against Yoongi's cheekbone. “Kookie just did a really good job with the video. It's so obvious how much effort he put into it and, to a lot of people, that's translates into something other than brotherly love.”
“I take sweet pictures of you, too,” Yoongi mutters. “I just don't share them with anyone.”
“And I like it that way,” Jimin tells him. There was already so much of their lives that was publicized. This, at least, he wanted to keep between them, precious and private.
For a few moments, they sit in silence. The tablet's screen dims and then blackens, taking with it the thousands of views and comments, the hours Jungkook spent on filming and editing everything.
Yoongi usually does not get this maudlin about the secrecy and the hiding. Usually, he agrees with Jimin and the rest of Bangtan that revealing their relationship was too much, too early, too risky. Before they even got together, they promised each other that the group would always come first, no matter how much it hurt at times.
But, every now and then, it hurt a lot.
“Hey,” Jimin says, quietly, his eyes searching the downward pinch of Yoongi's mouth and the slump of his shoulders, and there really only one solution. “How about we go honeymooning, too?”
It's not a honeymoon, of course. They don't get married and they don't fly off to an exciting place, they don't even leave for longer than just the weekend, but it's still the best idea they've had in a while.
It doesn't take long to pack their packs, only slightly longer to sit on the train that takes them to Daegu. They sit huddled together on the seats, hats drawn low into their face and keeping their voices down so no one recognizes them. They'd been lucky to get a few days off at all but, with their upcoming trip to the States, they all deserved a bit of a breather.
When Yoongi's brother comes to pick them up at the station, he hugs Yoongi and then he hugs Jimin, all smiles and easy welcome, and Jimin feels a little less bad about not having visited his own family more than a couple of weeks.
The car drive is quiet, all three of them content to let conversation rest, because they'd be rehashing all of it later over dinner anyway when Yoongi's parents were there as well. The two are still working at the restaurant, though, so Yoongi and Jimin go to set themselves up in Yoongi's room, small and cramped as it is.
“Looks like we'll have to share the bed,” Jimin sighs and then giggles when Yoongi tackles him onto the mattress.
The next two days pass in a blur of colors.
Yoongi has brought his camera along and he fiddles with it constantly, adjusting the settings to capture each moment perfectly. So he takes pictures of Jimin by the lake, his nose and cheeks reddened by the cold, golden leaves at his feet. Pictures of Jimin pressing his face into Holly's fur, dropping kisses on his forehead. Pictures of Jimin helping Yoongi' father in the kitchen and pictures of Jimin laughing with his mother. He takes pictures of Jimin in his town and in his house and with his family, as though he were trying to fill an entire photo album with snapshots of his fondest memories.
And later, when they lie in a bed that is too narrow, and Jimin is still bare and breathless and bordering on obscene, he takes pictures of that, too.
“You gonna put those on Insta?” Jimin asks teasingly. His eyes are narrow slits, like those of a cat who is lounging in the sun, but his teeth are sharp like a lion's.
“Nah,” Yoongi says, looking down at the display once more before setting the camera aside and placing a palm against the fast pulse in Jimin's neck. “People might think that we're dating.”
When they kiss, he is smiling.
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Yoonmin drabble #23
Idly, Yoongi wonders whether the others can tell.
It seems so obvious, from the way he watches Jimin across the rim of his wine glass. How Jimin laughs and throws his back and exposes the dip of his collarbones. How he cracks up at everyone's jokes but his eyes always linger on Yoongi, as though knowing exactly that Yoongi is looking back.
Yoongi catches how Taehyung has to hide a grin in the palm of his hand, how Namjoon raises his eyebrows and turns his face away, as though keeping himself from making a snarky comment. Hoseok's is the only one who doesn't bother to be subtle about it, his head zapping back and forth as he watches their interactions, the smile on his lips growing bigger and bigger.
So perhaps Yoongi doesn't need to wonder. Perhaps it is answer enough.
Had it always been like that? Had there always been a little something that got swept under the rug in favor of music and concerts and fanmeets and interviews? There's none of that now, no stress, no threat of scandals, just a few bottles of wine and soju shared between old friends, the Seoul night sky spread out above their heads as they sit on Seokjin's terrace and reminisce.
It's not the first time they met up since their disbandment. But there was always something else to keep them occupied: Seokjin's wedding, Hoseok's injury, Jungkook's mixtape and subsequent accusations of plagiarization.
Now, it's just them and the stars and some good food in their bellies because Seokjin still loved to splurge when it came to feeding them, and the night is still young but this feeling isn't.
Jungkook says something that turns into a huge yawn and Taehyung has bundled up in the blanket he stole from Seokjin's couch, getting a little too comfortable on the lounge chair and looking ready to drop off to sleep.
“Guess it's time to head out, huh?” Namjoon says, glancing toward Seokjin whose eyes are looking small.
“Oh!” Seokjin says, quickly perking up again. “You don't have to.”
“No no,” Hoseok agrees with Namjoon. “Let's clear the table and get going. It'll wake us up a little.”
It does. Between the seven of them, tidying up and taking care of the dirty dishes barely takes fifteen minutes. Taehyung folds his blanket, Namjoon searches for his phone, Hoseok disappears in the bathroom, and Yoongi plays with the keys in his pocket.
“You need a ride?” he asks lowly, watching as Jimin checks his reflection in front of the mirror.
Jimin just throws him a sideways look.
“You drank quite bit, hyung,” he warns.
“I'll walk you then.”
“My hotel is in the opposite direction.”
“It'll sober me up and then I can get my car on the way back.”
Jimin gives a slow smile, steps a little closer.
“Looking for excuses to spend time with me?” he teases. His voice is quiet as though he doesn't want the others to overhear.
Yoongi shrugs. “You barely get out of Busan these days. I thought we could catch up.”
“We just talked for hours.”
“That's different.” The urge to fidget is easy to resist; the alcohol is making him bold. “It's different when everyone is there.”
Jimin's smile only grows wider. “You want to be alone with me, hyung?”
“That a crime now?”
For a moment, Jimin looks at him with steady eyes. Then he turns away.
“Put on your shoes, hyung,” he says. “It's a fifteen minute walk.”
They say their goodbyes, hugging everyone, making promises to text, to call, to meet up soon. When they leave together, no one bothers to comment, though that probably changes the moment the door closes behind them.
They walk down the stairs and onto the street, bypassing Yoongi's car parked on the curb. At this time of night, the street lamps are more gold than yellow and Jimin glows with each step he takes through their halo, passing between light and shadow like a creature out of dreams.
Yoongi walks half a step behind him, keeps his chin close to his chest but his eyes on the curve of Jimin's ear. He can tell when Jimin begins to turn his head, but he does not bother to look away. Jimin's cheeks dimple when he catches his gaze, as though having found a final confirmation to an unasked question, and then he slows a little, allows Yoongi to catch up with him.
Their hands brush in a calculated move and when their fingers tangle together it is no surprise.
For a while, neither of them says anything, content in their silence and the warmth of their palms.
“Fifteen minutes is not really enough to have a meaningful conversation,” Jimin muses aloud.
“Hm,” Yoongi agrees with a grunt.
“I actually have a coffee machine in my room,” Jimin informs him blithely.
“Hmhm,” Yoongi says again, though the tips of his ears tingle with heat.
When Jimin glances over once more, his smile is downright wicked.
“Wanna come up for an Americano?”
Yoongi does.
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Yoonmin Drabble #13
“You're beautiful,” Yoongi says, pressing a kiss to the trembling line of Jimin's jaw. “And smart. And funny. And kind. And talented. And hard-working. And gentle.”
With each word, he tries to imprint the the truth onto Jimin's skin in the form of kisses, tries to make them sink deep into his bones until they become an irreversible part of his existence.
“You dance so gracefully, and sing so confidently, and you always intuitively know how to interpret my songs,” Yoongi praises, his fingers playing with the hair that curls over Jimin's cheekbones. “Your aegyo is the cutest but, whenever you want to be, you are the sexiest. Your voice is my absolute favorite.”
Jimin's sobs have subsided into something more like sighs but, in between, he'll take a huge shuddering breath and huff it out again, rib cage shaking around his heart where it rests in Yoongi's arms.
“Children love you and fans love you and the staff loves you,” Yoongi says because he has yet to hear of someone who had met Jimin in person without immediately being charmed. “Your parents and your brother love you, and the members love you, too. I love you.”
Jimin laughs, a little wetly, turns his face into Yoongi's shoulder, drying his tears against his shirt.
“I love you without abs and without make-up and without fancy clothes. I love you when you have morning breath and stubble and messy hair. I'll love you when you miss a step or can't hit a high note or sneeze all over yourself again.”
A groan, this time, at the unfortunate reminder, but Yoongi is not deterred so easily.
“I wish I could kiss you for hours. I want to hold you and hide you away and show you off to the world at the same time,” he continues with his paradoxical impossible love. “I want all happiness to be yours and the sun to only shine for you. Sometimes, I touch you with one hand and then the other gets jealous.”
There's a moment of silence; and Jimin may not be crying anymore, but he also isn't looking up, and Yoongi's chest clenches with worry.
“You trust me, right?” he asks, his mouth mumbling against Jimin's hair. “I mean, my opinions on music and my fashion sense, usually, and my overall judgment. You trust me?”
Jimin gives a tentative nod, fingers digging into the fabric of Yoongi's shirt.
“Then why can't you trust me on this?” Yoongi asks desperately because, when Jimin doubts himself he is also, in a way, doubting Yoongi's love, his eyes, his honesty.
And finally, finally Jimin looks up. His eyes are swollen and his cheek hot with salt, but his kiss still tastes sweet on Yoongi's lips.
“I'll get there,” Jimin promises and this, at least, is something Yoongi can put his own faith in.
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Drabble #8
Warning: this is somewhat angsty because it features blackmail and indirect mentions of homophobia, but there is a happy ending!
“What if we just pay the money?” Namjoon asks and Bang PD sends him a slightly disappointed look.
“It's a slippery slope from mere blackmail to outright extortion,” their producer points out. “If we give them what they want now, they'll just demand more and more. There'd be no end to it.”
Namjoon lowers his gaze but then quickly looks off to the side because there, on the tabletop, lies the incriminating evidence for all the world to see.
They'd been to Daegu, to visit Yoongi's family and, in the afternoon, they had gone to an art gallery. The pictures had been cut out of security footage and they were slightly blurred, but still recognizable. Not to mention that there was that tweet of a fan going around who had seen them in town that weekend, and the fact that they themselves had never even acknowledged the impromptu trip.
But for three days, the world had still been whole. Then, the plain unmarked manila folder reached the company, like a prop from some bad film noir, and all hell broke lose.
Whoever had sent the pictures must have been working for the art gallery, so they could sue for libel and and invasion of privacy and whatnot. But that would be little more than a form of revenge disguised as justice. What they needed now was a miracle.
Yoongi should probably be contributing to the conversation but, so far, only Bang PD, Namjoon and Seokjin had said much of anything. The other members are there are well, sitting around the coffee table, but they are all pale and silent. Jungkook is has his knees drawn up to his chest and is chewing on his fingernails. Even Hoseok can't seem to summon an encouraging smile to lighten the mood. Jimin sits sunken into Taehyung's side; his eyes are red but he's not actually crying, as though he knows how futile it would be.
Yoongi just feels numb.
“What if we set one of them up with a girl?” Seokjin asks. His long fingers are plucking a paper handkerchief into sad snowflakes that rain down between his feet. “If they look like they are dating someone else, it might take the attention away.”
“Or it will just highlight that we are trying to hide something.” Bang PD crosses his arms in front of his chest. “None of you have ever publicly dated anyone else before. If one of you suddenly does, and then it's followed up by those pictures, it'll all fall apart.”
He sighs, shakes his head, before glancing over Jimin and then Yoongi.
“I cannot help but think this is my fault,” he notes and the truth of it is right there in how dejected he sounds. “You know I cannot forbid you from being together, and I don't want to either. But I should have been stricter.”
In reality, however, things had already been strict enough. They'd curbed down on the skinship and the fan service; they rarely got grouped together for games and events, and they didn't share hotel rooms. Even their subunit remained as nothing but a vague promise, despite all the songs Yoongi had tailored to the image of Jimin's voice in his head.
Perhaps, they should have approached it differently from the getgo. Other groups' popularity relied heavily on fan service of all kinds, members constantly kissing and touching each other. Bangtan had tried it in the beginning and found it distracted from the music they wanted to produce. They had made it to the top, despite all the naysayers, and somewhere along the way Park Jimin had danced and stumbled his way into Min Yoongi's heart and grown roots.
And they'd been careful, so so careful, because they knew there were eyes and cameras everywhere. But that day, when they found themselves on the otherwise empty floor of a fancy gallery with gorgeous light installations and postmodern art, Jimin had posed next to an abstract painting, laughing and pulling faces, and Yoongi just couldn't resist but kiss and kiss and kiss him.
“I'm sorry,” Yoongi says now and then the words keep blubbering out of him. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have, I should've known, I-”
He buries his face in his palms and then there is a hand on his shoulder and he knows it must be Jin's, but he wishes that it were Jimin's instead. But Yoongi wanting to be close to him was what had led them to this very moment because someone had taken their gossamer love and spun the noose with which they were to hang themselves.
“Okay, this might seem like an even worse idea,” Namjoon says suddenly, making everyone look at him. “But what if we just don't?”
“Don't what?” Hoseok asks.
“Don't play into it,” Namjoon shrugs. “Or don't play by their rules. Maybe they made the first move, but we just have to take down their queen.”
Bang PD frowns. “What are you thinking?”
“It's 2018,” Namjoon says. He's wringing his hands now but he does not back down. “We won a ton of awards. We have millions of fans and a world tour ahead of us. And we have the support of our company,” he adds with a look at their mentor. “Don't we?”
“You do,” Bang BD says quietly. For a long moment, he looks contemplative.
“Most of your fans are under thirty,” he muses aloud. “And times are changing. In fact, I think, you are changing times. If anyone can pull it off, it's you.”
“What- what are you talking about?” Jungkook asks, and he sounds more bewildered than desolate, so that's an improvement.
“Someone can hold a gun to your head, but it won't do much if you already took their ammunition,” Bang PD says. “Whoever sent these pictures either wants money from us or from whatever media outlet they sell them to. Now, let's imagine that the news of Yoongi-yah and Jimin-ah dating were no longer news – that would probably lower the market value of those photos, hm?”
It takes a moment for realization to sink in but, when it does, Yoongi's mouth falls opens.
“You mean-?” he croaks, only for his voice to give out.
Bang PD nods. “Let's dry your tears and set up a camera, kids. We're breaking the internet, a number of taboos, and several hearts tonight, I think. There’s no harm in looking pretty doing it.”
“Hi!” Jimin says, waving at the camera. If you cared to look closely, his eye are still slightly reddened but his smile is sweet and his make up immaculate. “Surprise, everyone – Yoongi-hyung and I are doing a vlive together today.”
“Yo,” Yoongi says, lifting a hand in greeting. He's trying to look nonchalant but his heart is racing in his chest.
“People have been asking us about when the two of us will finally form a subunit,” Jimin continues. “And the truth is that we have already been working on it for a while now.”
“We just weren't sure whether the world was ready for it yet,” Yoongi adds.
“But we realized that, with some things in life, you can't always wait for the world to catch up with you,” Jimin explains and his hand reaches for Yoongi's. “Sometimes you have to carve your own path, or you'll just end up getting lost.”
“There are always going to be people who don't like what you do, people who try to hurt you and people who'll try to silence your voice.” Yoongi nods to himself, squeezing Jimin's fingers. “So you need to surround yourself with those who love you for who you are.”
“Right,” Jimin says, even though the word sounds slightly damp. Yoongi turns his head and, sure enough, Jimin's eye lashes are glistening with unshed tears but at least it’s for a different reason. Yoongi smiles.
“I love you, Park Jimin,” he says and this time, when he kisses him, he makes extra sure that the camera catches all of it.
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Yoonmin Drabble #12
Little Mix - Secret Love Song
When Yoongi is trying to write lyrics and running himself into walls with some lines, Jimin steals the sharpie from his fingers and draws stars on his bare skin instead, until Yoongi can write again.
On stage, Yoongi does not sing about love.
There sits a mole on Yoongi's chest that Jimin has painted a new constellation around, and it looks like a heart.
“What is this song about?” the radio MC wants to know, and Yoongi stares down the microphone on the table in front of him so it won't pull the truth from his tongue.
“A good friend,” he says, “And the sacrifices we make.”
“Can I borrow your shirt, hyung?” Jimin asks, already tugging it over his head and mussing up his hair.
“I haven't washed that yet,” Yoongi points out.
“I know,” Jimin says and presses its collar against his nose.
“You guys share clothes a lot, right?” an interviewer for a fashion magazine knows. “Do you have any preferences on what you pick?”
“Ah,” Yoongi scratches the back of his ear. “Jimin-ah and I have the same size, so.”
“It's convenient,” Jimin pipes up.
“Yeah,” Yoongi agrees. “Convenient.”
They order take-out and Jimin puts a candle on the small table between them. The others are having dinner together in the kitchen, as usual when they all have the evening off.
“We haven't had a date in ages,” Jimin had claimed when he dragged Yoongi off to his room.
We haven't had a date in ever, Yoongi thinks but, here, he at least gets to hold Jimin's hand.
“How would you set up the perfect date for you girlfriend?”
“A date is perfect as soon as it's with someone you love.”
“Oh no,” Jimin says, sounding appalled, and Yoongi pulls back, though his mouth still tingles.
“What?”
“I lost count,” Jimin replies miserably, giving a big sigh.
“Of what?”
“Of our kisses,” Jimin says as though it were obvious. “You distracted me.”
“Guess we'll have to start again then,” Yoongi teases, leaning back in.
“No, you don't understand,” Jimin claims, but he still accepts the new kiss that is being lavished onto his lips. “I've been counting since the very first.”
“Oh,” Yoongi says, drawing up short. “How many did you get?”
“Not enough,” Jimin knows and pulls him in.
Jimin laughs, his hands coming up to cup Yoongi's cheeks, but he stops himself at the last moment, turns away again.
Yoongi does not even glance at him, just keeps talking to the reporter, because the glare of the camera is always there.
“I'd love to have a garden,” Jimin says, scrolling through highly saturated pictures on Instagram. “Or at least a balcony. I want a nice bathtub and a big mirror for dance practice and a fancy coffee machine.”
“I'll get you a coffee machine for your birthday,” Yoongi promises, hooking his chin over Jimin's shoulder. On the screen, Jimin's secret account likes photos of dogs and sofas and fairy lights, and Yoongi's secret dreams like the idea of the two of them living together like that one day.
Where do you see yourself in five years, ten years, fifteen years, what are your plans for the future, where will you be?
“The details change but the essence stays the same,” Yoongi says, ponders it for a moment. “I think I'd like a small garden.”
Jimin dances and tosses his head back, Jimin showers and brushes the wet hair from his face, Jimin laughs and comes all over his belly. He is infuriatingly manifold in his beauty, like a kaleidoscope, new colors at each twist and turn.
“I wish I were a painter,” Yoongi murmurs against the perfection of Jimin's seashell ear, “I wish I were more of a poet.”
Yet the only word he can think of when trying to describe Jimin is an avaricious little Mine.
Jimin sways and dances on the screen, makes his spine bend and his eyes smolder, and Yoongi loses his breath to his own jealousy, because he hates that he has to share.
Sometimes, he misses Jimin's crooked tooth and his chubby cheeks and the ink of his black hair. But then Jimin smiles and it is as though nothing ever changed.
“What's your ideal type?” the hundredth host asks for the thousandth time.
“I think that, when you love someone,” Yoongi says, “Everything about them grows beautiful.”
“What are you doing?” Yoongi asks when Jimin is drawing crosses all over Yoongi's body, his neck, his collarbone, his thighs.
“Memorizing the spots where I would leave marks if I were allowed,” Jimin says, running a thumb over his handiwork.
For a moment, Yoongi just looks at him. Then he takes the pen, takes Jimin's hand and draws a crooked little circle around his fourth finger.
“What are you doing?” Jimin asks now, watching with a curious frown.
Yoongi smiles, though he knows it must look a little sad.
“Asking a question as if you could say yes,” he replies and kisses the ring he put on Jimin's hand.
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Yoonmin Drabble #19
Warnings for mentions of eating disorders!
Jimin smiles when Yoongi tells him. It's a terrible smile, stretched too wide and slanted like a flesh wound, so gory that Yoongi cannot look at it for long, cuts his gaze away to land on a piece of thread on his shirtsleeve where the stitches are coming undone. His fingers pick at it, nervously, but only make it worse.
“I'm sorry,” he says, finally, after all the stumbling repetitions of 'you have to understand' and 'this hurts me, too' and 'I love you, but'.
“It's okay, hyung,” Jimin says and the lack of Yoongi's name on his tongue shouldn't been as glaring as it is. “I know you only want what's best.”
There's something about that phrasing, something of the shy insecurity that often hides itself behind Jimin's clavicle, some of the self-deprecating jokes and days spent dieting himself into fainting spells and skinny wrists.
What is best, in this world?
It's a song polished to perfection between Yoongi's hungry teeth. It's the thrill of standing on a stage with dozens of lights above and thousands of people in front of him, swaying to his music as the tides follow the moon. It's Jimin reaching his hands skyward, the pulse in his blue-blooded veins turned against the sun like a prayer, laughing and laughing at something Hoseok just said and catching Yoongi's eye to multiply his joy.
But not all that is best for Yoongi is best for Bangtan.
The decision is quite like biting off a limb caught in a bear trap, without knowing whether it will ensure survival.
“Yeah,” he says, wiping off his clammy palms on his jeans. “I guess I... I'll leave you alone then.”
He stands up, does not allow himself to look back, and steps out of the room, quietly closing the door. His heart remains, crippled and small.
Yoongi bites his lips bloody and tears at his cuticles. Yoongi snaps at Jungkook when he tries to cheer him up, and flips off Namjoon who asks what the fuck his deal is lately. Yoongi burns an entire book of half-written songs.
When they eat dinner together, he keeps his eyes to himself.
“Where's Jiminie?” Seokjin asks when Taehyung slouches into a chair across the table.
“He said he's not hungry,” Taehyung says, already fidgeting with his chopsticks.
“He already said that yesterday,” Jin mutters under his breath but then, louder, he asks, “Did he have breakfast?”
Silence because no one knows the answer. Silence because that answers the real question.
“I don't know what brought this on,” Hoseok shakes his head, picks at his own food. “He seemed so happy this year.”
Yoongi ducks his head, hair falling into his eyes. In his mouth, the spices taste like dirt.
“Have you tried talking to him?” Namjoon asks, turned toward Jungkook and Taehyung but the two shrug.
“He just pulls the hyung card and laughs it off,” Jungkook says, squinting to the side. “He always comes home late from the studio, too, and then he just crashes.”
“He hasn't been drinking too much, has he?” Seokjin asks, and now everyone's eyes are on Yoongi.
“I dunno.” Yoongi hunches up his shoulders. “Not like I'm his keeper.”
“No, but at least he listens to you.” Namjoon says, rubbing his forehead. In moments like these, the leadership sits upon his shoulders like a heavy cross. “Whenever Jin-hyung or I reprimand him, he just smiles and agrees, and then keeps going like before.”
“I'll talk to him,” Yoongi relents because he knows that the others would only get suspicious if he tried to weasel his way out of this. And, Yoongi admits to himself, it's not like he no longer loves, worries, cares. “But I can't promise anything.”
“I'm fine,” Jimin says. In the yellow light the blue bruises under his eyes look sickly and green. The shadows sit in his gaunt cheeks like unpleasant memories.
“You're running yourself into the ground,” Yoongi says and scuffs his heel against the linoleum floor. Perhaps the hallway outside the dance studio isn't the best place to do this, but the dorm probably wouldn't be much better. Their love had always happened behind closed doors; here, there is room to run away.
“We're worried,” Yoongi tells him. “The group-”
“Right,” Jimin cuts him off with a sharp nod. “The group. The members. The fans. The company. The awards. The press. The music. The world. I get it.”
“That's not what I meant,” Yoongi says. His throat feels very tight and it's difficult to get the words out.
Jimin tugs the strap of his loose tank top back over his shoulder, almost violent in the way he does it. He must be cold out here; he had been dancing before Yoongi interrupted him.
“I have to go back to training now,” Jimin says. He turns so abruptly that his heels squeak on the floor. “We have a concert next week.”
Yoongi licks his lips.
“Can you at least try to be back home for dinner?” he asks tentatively. “Hyung is making chicken.”
“I'll try,” Jimin says, shouldering the door to the practice room open. “But I can't promise anything.”
When Jimin slips, it is almost expected. There are always little mishaps during concerts – people lose their shoes or drop their microphones or stumble into each other, and it's not even the first time that one of them blacked out for just a few seconds.
But Jimin slips and then Jimin wavers and then Jimin is crashing down, just barely caught by Taehyung who happens to be dancing next to him. They are all so tune with each other, that it halts the choreography at once, everyone swiveling around to see what has happened, even as it becomes glaringly obvious that Jimin has actually fainted.
There's an uproar from the sea of people, a collective gasp that rolls its way toward the stage, and then the music cuts off.
Namjoon gestures at a stagehand to turn off their mics as well and then he crouches down in front of Taehyung and Jimin who is slowly blinking himself back into consciousness.
“Jiminie, can you hear me?” Namjoon asks. Hoseok and Jungkook are already reassuring the fans with little platitudes, though they keep throwing worried looks over their shoulders.
Jimin, unfortunately, is having none of it.
“I'm fine,” he waves them away as though his eyes didn't look glazed. As though he hadn't used the exact same words a mere week ago to already brush Yoongi off. As though it weren't a lie.
“Do you need to get off-stage?” Namjoon asks seriously.
“No no,” Jimin shakes his head, minutely. Perhaps too much movement is making him dizzy.
“Drink something,” Seokjin urges, holding a plastic bottle to his lips and Jimin obeys, his Adam's apple bopping with each quick gulp.
Yoongi's hands ache with his inability to do anything, but his legs feel weak with the instinct to kneel, to press his forehead against the stage and beg for absolution.
It's not enough, he knows, and when Jimin happens to glance at him, glance over him and then away, he knows it even more.
“Can you stand?” Seokjin wants to know and, after another nod, he and Taehyung are leveling Jimin up, helping him back on his feet.
“Thank you,” Jimin says, getting himself back in order while Taehyung stands behind him, fixing the mic box where it has slipped from his belt.
“Fuck, Jimin,” Namjoon says. He keeps himself angled away from the crowd, but he sounds angry. “You can't starve your problems away.”
Jimin's gaze shutters and he pastes on a smile.
“I can try,” he says and then he is already pushing past them and waving to the audience to convince them of his well-being.
“Damn it,” Namjoon hisses and it's a sentiment that is echoed in all of their face, though with small variations. They'd all love to call off the concert, to at least send Jimin backstage for a number of songs, but they cannot exactly force him.
“Sorry for the scare, everyone!” Jimin calls out to the audience, once their mics are back on. “I got a little dizzy there – our dance routines are terrifying, aren't they?”
There are shouts of agreement from the crowd, some laughter, but also pleas for him to be careful, that he does not have to worry for them but the other way round.
Oh, Yoongi thinks with sudden clarity. Because if Jimin won't listen to reason, then maybe he will listen to love.
“Can I just say something?” he asks, lifting his hand as though he were some shitty little kid back in school. “There's- there's something I need Jiminie to know.”
Jimin, surprised, turns around to look at him. His stance is carefully guarded, obviously not knowing what to expect. The others are there, too, at the fringes of the moment, and the audience is right in front of them with bated breath. Yoongi swallows, fingers clenching around his microphone.
“I made a mistake,” he says and his throat aches all the way down into his chest. “When I- When I said what I said.”
When I told you our fame was more important than our happiness.
Jimin's eyes widen but his smile stays secure.
“Hyung, it's fine!” he says cheerily, “I'm fine.”
“You're not,” Yoongi shakes his head. “And when you're hurting yourself, you're hurting me, too.”
There's another round of whispers from the crowd, an aborted motion from Namjoon as he seems to clue in on where this is going, that it is too personal for what they should put on stage.
But this is the inverse of their break-up. This is Yoongi making things right.
“I'm sorry,” he says now, and he says it to the members and to the fans and to the staff and whoever he is disappointing tonight in one way or the other. But the real apology, the unspoken one, goes to someone else. “I'm in love with Jimin-ah and he is in love with me.”
Chaos. A mayhem of screams and gasps and Yoongi's heart sitting in his mouth, and then suddenly Jimin is in his arms, sobbing.
Across his shoulder, Yoongi can see the disbelieving faces of the others because they had no idea, they had no idea, Jimin and Yoongi had been kissing and making love and sneaking out to watch the stars for weeks, and no one even noticed, no one suspected, it was only when they started tearing themselves apart on their pain that things finally went wrong.
And Yoongi knows it is his fault, in a way, but in this very moment he cannot bring himself to care.
“Thank you,” Jimin cries against his chest. “Thank you.”
So strange, Yoongi thinks, that he is crying now when he had been smiling during their breakup.
He places his palm against the back of Jimin's neck and breathes.
“You're the best thing in my world, Park Jimin,” he say, pressing a kiss to his temple. “And don't ever let me tell you otherwise.”
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Yoonmin Drabble #17
“It was challenging,” Yoongi says, feeling Jimin nod beside him. “To be in love but not allowed to show it... that's really tough.”
In Korea, idols generally had to hide if they were dating. Gay men had to hide if they were dating. Gay idols... well. The maths was easily done.
“In the beginning, we hid it from everyone,” Jimin explains. “When we... when we first kissed, it felt like a spur of the moment thing. We were a little drunk and afterwards we just laughed it off. But. The truth was, the tension had been there for a while.”
“We sneaked around for a few weeks,” Yoongi remembers what had felt terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. “Nearly got caught. Decided to break it off.” He takes a deep breath, trying to school his features. He and Jimin had mutually agreed that it was for the best, but that still hadn't stopped Jimin from crying his eyes out and Yoongi from locking himself away in his studio for days on end.
“That's easier said than done when the other person is just constantly there,” he adds. And they perhaps managed to hide their broke hearts from the cameras, but that didn't mean their friends didn't notice that some rift had developed between them. “Eventually, we just – that sounds so stupid now but – we sat down with the other members and basically asked for their permission.”
The others had been varying degrees of surprised and accepting. Hoseok and Taehyung had been screaming and laughing mostly, until Namjoon had severely sobered the mood by congratulating them and following it up by pointing out how dangerous all of it was.
“We compromised on telling our producers and managers who were mostly very understanding,” Jimin says. “They warned us, of course, but they also knew that supporting us would be the best way to go.”
A forced break-up would have hurt the team dynamic. A hostile environment would had made them spiteful. Bighit did not want a scandal but they also did not want to lose the figureheads of their company. And, as the boys had made it very clear, if Jimin and Yoongi had to leave, they all would.
“We came up with a battle plan, really,” Yoongi purses his lips. “We were still allowed to interact, of course, but our screen time together was limited. Sometimes, we played up the fan service with other members, as a distraction.”
“But other than that, we were just like regular couples,” Jimin say reveals with a little laugh. “We went on dates, we held hands, we visited each others' families. Sometimes, we grew reckless and had to be reminded to be more careful.”
They were in a good place, of course, compared to some other people. People who had to fear for their lives just because of whom they loved. But the worry was still always there.
“We also had everyone else to consider,” Yoongi points out because someone idiots on the internet and in the news did not seem to understand that this was larger than just two young men who happened to enjoy kissing each other. “There were the other members, obviously, because we didn't want to endanger their careers. But also our managers and stylists and our company in general. A scandal could have made people lose their jobs, could have turned away trainees. We couldn't risk that.”
“On the other hand,” Jimin pipes up, “We also had it easier than other idols who are secretly dating. Because we were actually together all of the time. That can be a challenge all of its own, to date one of your closest friends who is also your roommate and your colleague. You have to find ways to take a break from each other and to even have something to talk about sometimes. But since we were so busy, just being alone together felt like a vacation each time.”
“You learn to count you blessings,” Yoongi agrees. There had been many moments throughout his life that he would not have made it through without Jimin's love, without the support of his friends and the encouragement of his family. Looking back at it made it all feel very far away, but his heart still ached as though it had happened yesterday.
The glare of the spotlight is still upon them now, as are the camera lenses and the curious eyes in the audience, the sharp little nods of the interviewer. Five years ago, he never would have dared to imagine a moment like this, openly admitting to his feelings, to their relationship. But, maybe, the world was a beautiful place after all.
“And that is why,” Jimin says, eagerly grasping Yoongi's hand in his and giving it a tight squeeze before lifting it up for everyone to see, “We would like to announce our engagement.”
The crowd erupts into euphoria and Yoongi can feel the weight lift off his chest.
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Yoonmin Drabble #18
Friends by Ed Sheeran
They put no new name to it.
Hyung, Jimin calls him because they are colleagues, they are group members, they are friends.
And Yoongi is starting to hate that word, hate the casual ease with which Jimin uses it. Because Jimin has so many friends, his friends in Busan, his friends from dance class, his friends among the trainees, his friends from GOT7. And the members will of course always be another kind of friends but Yoongi still cannot help but feel a little cheap, feel like one among many, with Jimin the ocean and Yoongi just a grain of sand on the beach.
But he doesn't object when Jimin drags his pillow over into the other hotel bed, doesn't complain when Jimin slips out of his clothes and doesn't bother to put on a night shirt.
Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. The maknae share beds all the time, cuddle up together as soon as the opportunity arises. No one even blinks anymore when Taehyung lays down next to Jungkook and falls asleep moments later. It's cute. It's cute.
Jimin, twisting on the sheets, his mouth tasting of red wine, is not cute. Jimin, pushing his hips up against Yoongi's and pulling at his hair to deepen their kiss, is nothing but confusing.
Friends don't do that, Yoongi knows, though he suspects that many boys might experiment like this. But an experiment has a strict structure: hypothesis, execution, observation, discussion, conclusion.
If Jimin wanted to find out whether he liked making out with guys, then he should have gathered enough data for an empirical study by now. He should know the answer. So why does he keep returning with more questions?
Today, his question comes in the form of spreading his legs and guiding Yoongi's hand down between them. The answer follows only minutes later in the form of Jimin coming all over himself. The answer is yes, yes, yes.
Friends, Yoongi reminds himself and bites his lips against the urge to chew kiss marks along Jimin's collarbones. Just friends.
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Yoonmin drabble #2
It's not a special moment or an exciting one or even the first of its kind. Yoongi sits down at the piano and Jimin pulls out his phone and opens his camera to film him because he likes this, likes sharing the little clips on Kakaotalk, likes going through his files months later and stumbling over them again, likes having the reminder that Yoongi chose to show him his newest compositions.
But, somehow, today is different. The lights are turned down a little low and the hour is a little late and the way Yoongi's finger traipse along the keys is a little mesmerizing. It's a lackadaisical melody, one that is at odds with Yoongi's calm expression, the jut of his lower lip and the droop of his eyelids. Yoongi plays the way a green tarn holds a plum blossom afloat – effortless and dancing and unseen surface tension.
“I've tried to write something for you,” he says, suddenly changing the key, his shoulders seeming to broaden as he leans forward more heavily, summoning a melody that is slower and almost regal.
Jimin swallows because there is a 'but' caught in that statement. 'But it's not worth the effort.' 'But I'll give it to Jungkook instead.' 'But I don't think you can handle it.' 'But I lost inspiration.'
“But I can't seem to pick just one,” Yoongi explains. “I have like seven songs half-written and then suddenly none of them seem to do you justice.”
Another switch, now high and lofty, almost like a choir of seraphim.
Jimin makes a small helpless noise, lowering his camera.
“You don't have to,” he says, feeling strangely shy all of a sudden. Yet Yoongi just drags his eyes away from the keys to glance over at him. A grin tugs at the corner of his mouth, as though amused by some private joke.
“I have to,” he says, leaving no room for argument, and turns away again, his fingers never faltering.
Jimin fumbles with his phone, aims it to keep filming properly, even as heat prickles in his cheeks.
He cannot seem to tear his gaze away from Yoongi's hands, steady and wiry and pale like milk. And he knows that the piano had been Yoongi's first love but, in this very moment, Jimin wonders whether perhaps he can be his last.
Send me a prompt and I’ll write a yoonmin drabble for you!
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Yoonmin Drabble #14
“Do you want to have an apple or banana for lunch?” Yoongi asks over his shoulder, as he is packing the lunchboxes.
Dae-Hyun pulls a face, his button nose scrunching up, as though neither option sounded all that appealing.
“You have to eat some fruit,” Yoongi reminds him. “Vitamins are important.”
“Apple,” Dae-Hyun decides with a big sigh before turning back to his breakfast, fumbling to get some food into his mouth. He had recently ditched the kiddie chopsticks for regular ones, not wanting to admit that his hands were still too small. “And no peel.”
“Peel stays on, that's where the good stuff is,” Yoongi notes with a small shake of his head before cutting the apple into bite-sized slices. Dae-Hyun was a picky eater, but they had to set some ground rules or else he'd eat nothing but cereal.
In that moment, Jimin comes dancing into the kitchen, literally dancing with Hei-Ran sitting on his hip and giggling in delight.
“Good morning,” Jimin chirps, swaying past Dae-Hyun and pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.
“' 'morning,” Dae-Hyun says around a mouthful of rice and then keeps chewing.
Jimin is freshly showered, his hair still damp, his face bare, but already dressed in a pattered silk shirt which is rarely a good idea when children are having breakfast around you, but Yoongi has long since given up on lecturing him on that.
“You you want an apple or a banana for lunch?” Yoongi asks again, this time glancing over at Jimin who is setting Hei-Ran down in her high-chair, disentangling her fingers from his collar.
“There's catering at the studio,” Jimin reminds him blithely but then he sees Yoongi's glowering look. “Uh. Why don't you just pack both?”
“Great idea,” Yoongi says and finishes wrapping up the last lunchbox.
In a bit, Jimin's manager would come and drive him to the first photoshoot of the day, dropping off Dae-Hyun at school, and then later there was the recording for Jimin's host show, so he'd probably barely get back in time for dinner. Yoongi, in the meanwhile, would take Hei-Ran to the doctor so she could get her shots, then they'd go to the park and enjoy the nice weather and maybe she'd get to pet a dog, and they'd go home so she could have a nap, and Yoongi would tidy around the house because their cleaning lady only came by one a week.
When Hei-Ran woke and was in a good mood, Yoongi would take her into his little studio and work on some tracks, making a big show of asking for her opinion and explaining everything to her, from the tiny buttons on the mixing board over his inspiration to how far he had gotten with the lyrics, even though she could barely understand any of it yet.
Then he'd go pick up Dae-Hyun from school and spent the rest of the afternoon helping him with his homework and playing with him and Hei-Ran, and then he'd cook dinner, and then Jimin walk through the door, and Yoongi would be in love.
The great thing about idol life was that it had been an incredibly good preparation for parenthood. Jimin and Yoongi knew how to take care of the other members of their family while still maintaining their own relationship. They could function on little sleep, always kept a positive attitude, and never swore in front of impressionable ears. Not to mention that Jimin sang the absolute best lullabies, putting the children to sleep and stars into Yoongi's eyes.
Their love had mellowed over the years, but in the best of ways. After the excitement of their early days and their defiance after the reveal of their relationship when they were told that a couple like them would forever be disgraced in the eyes of the public, they had managed to make it work.
Their company and the other members had played a big part in it, as did their music and their fans. No matter what allegations and insults had been flung their way, Park Jimin and Min Yoongi had endured. They were, after all, bulletproof.
And yet, the mere fact, that they had been allowed to adopt had been a nigh-on miracle, and even then the children were officially only Yoongi's, with Jimin being his live-in boyfriend.
But times changed, even in Korea, and bit by bit people grew more accepting, until queer people in the entertainment industry were no longer a taboo but merely a fact of life.
Yoongi, however, had chosen to step out of the spotlight and concentrate on his family, still writing and producing music, but only very rarely making himself available for any sort of publicity. A handful of times, he had starred as a guest in Jimin's show, but other than that he was merely his arm candy on the red carpet.
Now, he sets the lunchboxes aside and finally sits down as well, so he can eat breakfast. Jimin is making sure that Hei-Ran is keeping most of the food in her mouth and Dae-Hyun is playing with his Gameboy underneath the table, though Yoongi lets it go for the time being.
In that moment, his phone vibrates against his thigh and he pulls it out of his pocket, checking the screen and seeing a message from Namjoon.
Check the news, is all it reads and Yoongi frowns, pulling up a news app and taking a moment to scroll through it before the headline jumps straight at him.
Yoongi's mouth falls open, chopstick clicking against the rim of his bowl.
“Something the matter?” Jimin asks, with mild worry in his tone, and Yoongi looks at them from across the table, looks at Hei-Ran's plumb cheeks and Dae-Hyun's chestnut eyes and the laughter lines that have painted themselves across Jimin's face in their past years together.
“They legalized it,” Yoongi says, barely even hearing his own voice, and for a moment Jimin looks dumbstruck as well. Then he gives a big smile.
“Well then, Min Yoongi,” he says, as though there had never been any doubt that this moment would come. “Will you marry me?”
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Yoonmin Drabble #20
Other people would perhaps call it petty but Jimin himself likes to think of it as admirable. In any case, he had successfully managed to each and every aspect of Yoongi's career these past few months.
He had carefully selected which events he attended, had declined offers to certain shows, had refused to answer questions regarding his past as an idol, had simply switched the radio channel whenever the name Agust D fell, had blacklisted all his pseudonyms on all his electronics.
It had been both been harder and easier than when he had still been in the military. During his service, he had no cellphone and limited access to the internet, not to mention that Yoongi himself had been stationed at a barracks back in Daegu. But the guys in Jimin's unit had been curious when the first met him, not because he was a world famous kpop idol but because there was no one who could have missed the scandal.
No one had asked outright but Jimin had felt their looks and heard their whispers. Someone were disgusted, some were pitying, and he didn't know which he hated more. But he kept his head down, did his work, and eventually people got used to him.
For two years, Park Jimin was just one soldier among many. For two years, he did not sing.
Now he is back, still not quite used to the spotlight, but perhaps that is just because he is simply walking the red carpet alone these days.
It is also the first award show he is attending where he knows that Yoongi will be present, will be nominated, will perform.
Three years, Jimin reminds himself. Three years since the scandal, since the breakup, since the pain. Three years since everyone gave a sigh of relief when the seven of them collectively started their service and called it a hiatus instead of a disbandment. Three years since a very personal apocalypse.
By now, Jimin should be over it, but the memories sit deep in his bones and still won't let him sleep some nights. He turns over words he could have used, contemplates kisses he should have never given.
We have it all, he had whispered into Yoongi's ear one night, mere weeks before the fall, when the paupers had still thought themselves princes, before 'all' was taken from them in what felt like a blink, a flurry of shameful headlines and panicked press conferences.
Now, he finds himself sitting on a velvet seat close to the aisle in a big concert hall, surrounded by other artists who make pleasant small-talk instead of sending him sidelong looks. Three years and the scandal has died down, the world has moved on, and Korea has become more accepting. Three years and so much unfair timing.
Please, Taehyung had said on the phone before Jimin had even found the invitation among his manager's emails. Please, just this once. It's been so long, and Kookie is hosting. It would mean a lot to him to have you there.
So Jimin had agreed, reluctantly, had send his confirmation to the organizers, had declined a plus one, had picked an outfit and stitched a perfectly blasé expression onto his face before he climbed out of the car and faced the feral flashes of the cameras.
“Now,” Jungkook says on stage, while his co-host smiles sweetly. “I am very happy to announce our next performer. For over a decade, he has been a caring hyung, a wonderful mentor and a great inspiration to me.”
The crowd cheers and Jimin does not flinch.
“Tonight,” Jungkook continues, “He is nominated in the category Best Solo Rap or HipHop for his truly remarkable self-produced song Easier.”
Again, Jimin keeps himself still. He had known of the nomination, yes, but this is the first time he has heard of the song in particular. It's a simply title, deceptively plain, but with a whirlwind of implications underneath the word.
“Please welcome,” Jungkookie says, lifting his arms in a well-practiced gesture, “Min Yoongi!”
That- is new. Had it been a simple faux pas of Jungkook to announce Yoongi under his legal name instead of his stage persona? Or was that intentional? Had Yoongi perhaps even done away with Agust D altogether, to rid himself of echo of Suga that were still caught in that name?
Jimin has no time to contemplate it further. The lights dim, the crowd hushes, and then a small part of the stage is illuminated, a white halo atop a grand piano.
Yoongi, when he sits down on the small bench, does not look like a rapper or an idol or like someone Jimin remembers very well.
His slacks are black, his dress shirt white, and his hair is all natural. He looks like a concert pianist and it is so at odds with the man whose face twisted into an ugly visage when he told Jimin to leave, just leave then, tell them I forced you when I fucked you, tell them you never loved me at all!
No, Jimin chides himself, clenching his fists in his lap. He will not allow himself to sink back into the guilt and the doubt and the questions of blame. He will listen to this song, four minutes, five minutes, however long it takes, tag them on to the three years that have passed, and then he will continue to breathe.
Yoongi's hands touch the piano key the way they used to touch Jimin's body – knowingly, familiarly, lovingly – and he draws sounds from it just the same. Underneath Yoongi's affection, Jimin had sung. Now he watches and keeps his silence.
There is no track to accompany the melody Yoongi writes out with his fingers, no beat and no bass, just Yoongi leaning forward and pushing his lips against the mic in something akin to a kiss.
“I won't lie, I felt betrayed, I started cursing your name,” he begins to rap and the words zap through Jimin's mind like lightening, unexpected and unpleasant. It does not surprise him that Yoongi would have turned their ugly separation into an angry rap, but to think that he got a nomination and potentially even an award out of it is especially jarring.
“I even smoked cigarettes to burn out your taste, set my lungs on fire and laid my tongue to waste,” Yoongi continues and Jimin pulls a face, insulted. Yoongi had always abhorred smoking, and to fault Jimin for a new bad habit was just petty and childish.
“But my lips were promised kisses and I find that I miss it,” Yoongi says, softer and almost self-deprecating, “Though I guess I got myself to blame.”
Jimin stills.
Of course he would miss it, he tries to rationalize it. Their relationship had been good while it had lasted, there was no reason to demean it. But to say it so blatantly, so shamelessly...
“I don't remember all that happened, who said what and how and when,” Yoongi says and that's fair enough, the lines had blurred as they both hurled hurtful things at each other, as they couldn't breathe around their fear, and Jimin remembers those days as nothing but a long stretch of hurt.
“Though I do remember thinking, We could try this again,” Yoongi admits, only to lets his head hang a little. “But the door was locked by then, the thought came too late. So I tried to shrug it off and called it Mistakes and Fate. I went on with my life, I put my game face on, never daring to look just how far you had gone.”
Incheon, Jimin thinks. I was stationed in Incheon, and for two years your were just two hours away.
“I thought it would be easier to leave you behind,” Yoongi says and the piano is slower now, contemplative, less explosive anger and aching regret. “Easier to get your laughter out of my mind. Easier to write songs about things that aren't you. Easier to lie than forever be true.”
Truth, that had been it, the thing that broke their backs. They lived so many pretenses, had thought that they could juggle their existence as idols with their secret little affair behind the scenes.
Affair, Jimin recalls with a sour taste. That's what the papers had called it.
“I asked my father, Hey, dad, how did you know?” Yoongi raps, easily switching into his Satoori dialect, stronger than ever after two years away from Seoul. “How did you know that mom was it? How long did you date? He said, Son, you never know and you'll always be afraid. But some things that aren't easy are still worth the wait.”
Jimin swallows. He can tell that there are cameras on him now, filming his reactions, and in that moment he realizes that, while he has stoutly refused to listen to any of Yoongi's works, the entire country had been aware that this was a song written about them. And now they wanted to see what Jimin thought of it.
“So maybe I should have waited,” Yoongi acknowledges, “Maybe I would have won. Maybe I could have lingered even after you had run.”
I didn't run, Jimin thinks spitefully, despite the fact that he isn't even sure anymore. They had both messed up and sometimes there was no changing that.
“And I accept the blame, I do, I have it written on my skin,” Yoongi bursts out, his eyes shut in concentration, “Yet I want the world to know – we were always more than sin!”
Oh, Jimin says and suddenly there are tears caught in his lashes. How is it possible that, years and years later, Yoongi's music still managed to touch him so deeply, so suddenly?
“I thought it would be easier, but my music wants your voice,” Yoongi confesses. His upper-body is swaying back and forth with it, like a man in prayer. “I thought it would be easier, but this was never just my choice.”
It hadn't been our choice at all, Jimin knows. The choice had been taken from them the moment their relationship was dragged out for everyone to sneer and stare at.
“Maybe you'll never hear this song, maybe I cannot ask for more,” Yoongi finishes, the melody turning slower and slower underneath his fingertips, like the end of heavy rain. “But if you love me still, maybe we could try for an encore?”
No, Jimin thinks helplessly. No, this isn't fair. Yoongi couldn't just write one song and undo three years of stagnation. He couldn't take Jimin's pain and soothe it into oblivion.
The song is over and the lights turn low again. The audience bursts into cheers. Jimin keeps his hands carefully folded and does not acknowledge the cameras. Then Jungkook and his co-host are back on stage, commending Yoongi's performance before also announcing the next artist. Jimin gets up from his seat and squeezes back the other people to get into the aisle.
He'd catch a short break in the bathroom, he tells himself. Maybe see whether he could get someone to bring him something to drink, water or alcohol, he doesn't even know. Yet, somehow, he suddenly finds himself at the door that leads backstage for when artists need to get ready for their performance.
“There you are,” Hoseok hisses, stepping out of the shadow. “I was already thinking you wouldn't come.”
“I- what?” Jimin says, confused, especially as Hoseok just grabs him by the arm and leads him through the door, nodding at the security people.
“Do you know how much planning this took?” Hoseok shakes his head. “I never thought you of all people would be so stubborn or childish.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The song!” Hoseok exclaims with a wave of his hand. “You were supposed to hear it months ago. But then Taehyung finds out that you have literally purged Yoongi-hyung from your life, and when he heard he was ready to just give up. Seokjin had to move in with him, just to make sure he was eating properly. And then Namjoon set up this whole elaborate scheme of making listen to the song live so you can't just ignore it. This took months, I tell you, so you better be grateful.”
“I- I-,” Jimin stammers, with slowly inching panic making him realize where this is going.
“Hobi,” Yoongi says where is suddenly standing on the threshold of a small changing room. “Let go of him.”
He looks a little older and his makeup glistens a little from how the stage lights must have burned down on him. But he is still just as short as always and he is he is looking right at Jimin.
“Hyung,” Jimin says, strangled, the first word in too long.
“Jiminie,” Yoongi returns and it should be too much, too familiar, but it feels just right. Yoongi's fingers clench around the door handle and he licks his lips, before gesturing into the empty room behind him. “Would you like to sit down and talk a bit?”
Jimin shakes his head, opens his mouth before Yoongi's face can fall. But perhaps the decision had already been made before Yoongi wrote his song.
“I'm here for that encore.”
Here the song lyrics for easier reading, if anyone is interested:
Min Yoongi - Easier (ft. dawnstruck)
“I won't lie, I felt betrayed, I started cursing your name
I even smoked cigarettes to burn out your taste,
set my lungs on fire and laid my tongue to waste
but my lips were promised kisses and I find that I miss it
Though I guess I got myself to blame
I don't remember all that happened, who said what and how and when
But I do remember thinking, We could try this again
But the door was locked by then, the thought came too late
So I tried to shrug it off and called it Mistakes and Fate
I went on with my life, I put my game face on,
never daring to look just how far you had gone
I thought it would be easier to leave you behind
Easier to get your laughter out of my mind
Easier to write songs about things that aren't you
Easier to lie than forever be true
I asked my father, Hey, dad, how did you know?
How did you know that mom was it? How long did you date?
He said, Son, you never know and you'll always be afraid
But some things that aren't easy are still worth the wait
So maybe I should have waited, maybe I would have won
Maybe I could have lingered even after you had run
And I accept the blame, I do, I have it written on my skin
Yet I want the world to know – we were almost more than sin
I thought it would be easier, but my music wants your voice
I thought it would be easier, but this was never just my choice
Maybe you'll never hear this song, maybe I cannot ask for more
But if you love me still, maybe we could try for an encore?”
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I have some more ym prompts waiting in my ask box and I’ll try to get them out as soon as possible, but I’m pretty busy this week so I’ll have to put them on the backburner for now. Sorry about that!
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Yoonmin Prompts Opened
I’ve gained 50+ followers in the four days since my drabble run, so I’ve decided to do another one as a small thank you. :)
Rules are the same as last time:
send me a prompt/tag me in art/link me a song, and I’ll write a ym drabble
NSFW is welcome, though I may decline to do certain kinks
idol ‘verse is preferred, but that includes variations (age switch, rival groups, idol/fan etc.)
For now I’m just collecting prompts, but I’ll get around to writing and posting them later in the day.
If you want to read the drabbles I already wrote you can find them here or check out my AO3!
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