this is something i wrote to wake my lazy muse up so keep your expectation low lol

If there is anything more aggravating than 3-hour lectures that starts at 2 pm on a Friday, it’s the lecturers that tend to drag their time with incessant chatters, completely oblivious to the lack of appreciation from the students.  

Yoongi taps the tips of his Jordan Air in a haywire series of beats, hitting the home button on his iPhone only to check the time, before groaning inwardly at the 5:17 displayed across the plain black background. The tapping of his shoes gets into a crescendo and earns him a quick, annoyed look from the boy next to him.

As if Min Yoongi could care less to what a kid that looks like 15 thinks of him, when this is his last semester at this college.

Funnily, it all dawns from the fact that this is his last semester.

Yoongi is not looking forward at the prospect of getting thrown out there trying to find someone to hire him, but who is he kidding? He is all and done with mundane routines of boring lectures and blasted group assignments, and therefore is very looking forward to graduating.

This local college that he has enrolled on a whim three years ago has a surprise for him, though; apparently it is compulsory to join a club for at least a semester throughout the whole academic course, a fact they have chosen to write in a fine print Yoongi has never bothered to read. So naturally, he only finds out about it when he is unable to register for graduation later at the end of the semester, and has to consult the admin office about it.

They manage to get him into a club, thankfully – though that little luck might slip from his grasp if this very professor doesn’t stop his reminiscing rambles soon.

As if on cue, the professor seems to finally realize the time and quickly calls it a day, and Yoongi is only polite enough to wait for the elderly man to put a step out from the small seminar room before sprinting off from his seat with his bags securely slung over his shoulders.

He might have kicked the seat of the boy next to him on his way out but well, something has to go right today.

Yoongi slips into the waiting rooms of the indoor stadium of the college just in time, tapping the coach’s shoulder to introduce himself before proceeding to assemble his camera in haste with experienced deft fingers. The game is starting in a little less than 20 minutes and Yoongi takes just enough shots of the players getting ready, flitting around trying to get the best angles as well as not to get into the way of the committee members that are scurrying around doing last minutes checks.

There is no way to tell how glad Yoongi is for the fact that it is the Photography Club that would take him in, despite his late applications and unconventional situation. There is also Cooking Club which always welcomes male members; but as much as he is desperate for a club, Yoongi cannot cook anything other than ramyeon to save his life.

Therefore, Photography Club it is – plus, if there is anything Yoongi could call a hobby alongside composing music and writing lyrics as his staple diet, it’s fiddling with his 3-year-old Nikon D800.

The game is a close match at 50 seconds away from half-time; 46 points for the home team and 50 points for the opposing. Yoongi has been staying on his feet for the past 20 minutes, catching bits of moments through his lens and capturing them still. This might be a club assignment, given to him because the rest of the club are covering some other, bigger event at the their partnering college, but when the buzzer beats signalling the half-time, Yoongi heaves a breath without realizing that he has been holding one this whole time.

He plops himself on the nearest bench, relieving his feet as he reviews the shots he has taken so far. The club will not be needing more than a dozen for the college archive but Yoongi wouldn’t mind adding some to his own collection as well so nothing is remotely wasted at all.

His thumb is hitting the next button in intervals of seconds, going through the photos for the last time before he should start taking photos of the players in recuperation, when something catches his attention. His other thumb searches for the previous button as he focuses to the series of the photos.

A sigh of disbelief ghosts his lips, and it doesn’t transcend to a proper scoff until he views the photos in small thumbnails and squints, only to see that almost half of the photos are of the same person.

He whistles lowly. Who the hell is this player No. 11?

His instinct is to find the boy among the players at the benches, and so he cranes his neck for a bit but really, Yoongi wouldn’t have to do much searching – because there he is, staring right at the cameraman, expression obscure due to the distance, but no less exquisite.

And it feels like the most natural thing when Yoongi raises his camera, the lenses posed to focus on the standing figure metres ahead, his finger pushing the snap button just in time for him to see a flash of a smile; merry and enticing.

The adrenaline rush he feels later on might not be because of the game.

###

“Any good shots of me?”

Yoongi nearly jumps off his seat, highly startled by the figure looming suddenly across his shoulder. By the amused look on the guy’s face, he must have cursed a few in his shock.

Sliding down the headphones that have cut him off from the outer world for the past hour, he glances warily at the guy that has pulled a chair next to him. “What do you want, Lee Hongbin?”

Lee Hongbin chuckles, his face scrunched up in a way one would find unattractive but Yoongi knows enough not to argue on that basis with 99% of the female population of the college.

“You covered the basketball game, right? Any good shots of me?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “I wasn’t there to take solo shots of anyone particular.”

Such response would usually deter people from enquiring further but alas, Yoongi has forgotten how persistent Lee Hongbin can be, having shared many core courses with him over the years. Before he knows it, the other has pulled his laptop closer to see better of the photos Yoongi has been having open to edit before he has to submit them to the club later this afternoon.

“Oh? Oh.”

There is something in Hongbin’s tone that gets Yoongi to alert. He looks up from his phone so fast that his neck hurts, and player no. 11 is there displayed on all 14 inch of his laptop, the grin seeming to mock the Yoongi’s panic.

“I didn’t know you got something going on with Jiminie?” Hongbin says teasingly.

“I didn’t even know his name,” Yoongi replies, defensive. He pulls the laptop back towards him and closes the tab with Jiminie’s picture. “So obviously I have nothing going on with him.”

Oh, but persistent, persistent Hongbin might have more sense than Yoongi has ever given him credits for.

“His name is Park Jimin, a first year, majoring in Dance, minoring in Vocals. Totally available for you, as far as I know.”

“Didn’t ask,” Yoongi mumbles, knowing full well that the red tips of his ears are betraying him.

Hongbin looks like he is about to laugh but decides against it. He gives Yoongi a pat on a shoulder instead.

“Why don’t you go see us playing sometimes? We usually hangs out at the court at the park near the station every Saturday morning.”

###

Yoongi really should not go. He practically has no reason to. Saturday mornings are pretty much non-existent to him as he usually sleeps through them, thinking of it as a reimbursement for all the sleep he has been missing through the weekdays.

Yet here he is, walking past the people heading for the station going for dates and outings, in his cargo shorts and red plaid shirt over plain white t-shirt, ears plugged with Kendrick Lamar’s latest release blaring. He doesn’t know what he expects to see, doesn’t even bring his camera along for an excuse – yet it feels right somehow.

There are six of them, playing 3-on-3, all unfamiliar faces to Yoongi except for Hongbin, of course, and Park Jimin, who he hasn’t seen since the basketball match.

Yoongi watches from the side lines for five minutes before Hongbin takes notice, and brings the attention of the players to him. He waves, pretty much awkwardly because he is never a big people person. The others smile and wave in acknowledgement but the only one who matters is Park Jimin, anyway so Yoongi’s eyes dart to him the last, slowly in excruciating anticipation.

As if déjà vu, Park Jimin is staring again, with the similar lack of expression on his young face, still holding so much exquisite that Yoongi wishes he has brought his camera along to capture the sight forever like he cannot have enough of it.      

The boy throws the ball in his hands towards Yoongi with some neat flick of wrists, just in time for him to catch it with both hands, startled.

There is the same flash of smile behind the flurry of the ball, so for the first time Yoongi doesn’t think twice as he bounces the ball.

“I’m Park Jimin.” 

“I know.”

Jimin raises an eyebrow in a way that makes Yoongi almost blush but he doesn’t bother to elaborate more. There is enough awkwardness in the air after Hongbin ushers all the other boys to go home after the mini game they are playing, leaving only the two of them at the public court.

“You’re good,” Jimin says to the tab on his canned drink. “Why are you not playing for the college?”

Yoongi tries not to stare too much at how the sun shines on Jimin’s brown hair and make it seems much lighter; a fact so trivial he doesn’t even know why he is mulling over it. “I got injured during high school so I cannot play for competitions anymore.

A mixture of alarm and concern clouds Jimin’s face as he looks up so Yoongi immediately adds to pacify him. “It’s nothing much. It’s just that I took a long time to recover and lost my stamina since.”

“That’s good, then,” the relief is apparent on the younger boy as he takes a sip of his drink. “I asked you to play out of a whim.”

“I wouldn’t play if I hadn’t want to.”

There is a long drag of silence then, except for the big gulp Yoongi takes of his drink, but surprisingly the awkwardness webs out, and soon it becomes comfortable enough for Yoongi to tilt his head slightly and basks on the pretty sight of Jimin’s side profile.  

“You’re good, too,” he says amicably, thinking back to the match he has seen last week. “I watched the match with South Daejeon last week.”

“You took photos, right? Are they for the college archive?”

Yoongi nods. “I’m with the Photography Club.”

“That time... during the half-time,” Jimin shuffles his feet slightly, eyes fixed to the tip of his shoes. “Did you take a photo of me?”

There is a part of Yoongi that wants to lie and say no, because this is getting a tad further than Yoongi has expected, because while Yoongi is sure now he has some interest on Jimin, he isn’t quite prepared to believe that Jimin might be equally interested in him.

Yet there is definitely another part of him that wants to say yes; the same part that screams to know Jimin better, because even if it has been quite some time since Yoongi last commits to someone, there’s some nagging feeling that it might work this time around, with Jimin.

“Yeah. It turns out well,” he takes a moment to inhale and exhale. “I can show you later if you want.”

“Later?” Jimin echoes.

“Later,” Yoongi confirms.

“Like a date?”

A moment of pause as Yoongi crushes a leaf with the tip of his favourite Jordans; as Jimin holds his breath without even knowing.

“Yes, like a date.”

And when Jimin says okay – when he laughs, out of merry, Yoongi hopes, until his eyes turn crescent and his mouth wide, and says okay – Yoongi lets his eyes stay and captures the beauty, albeit without his trusted lenses.

Epilogue

“Jimin-ah.”

Yoongi watches as Jimin looks up from the magazine he is flipping through; mundane happiness of typical Sunday morning.

“Love you.”

And his finger pushes the shutter down as Jimin’s face breaks down into the most exquisite sight he has ever seen since the last time he has done this – he could probably do a portfolio or two on Jimin’s smiles in the span of these three years.

He doesn’t think he will ever have enough.

yeah Jimin is no. 11 because he is the main character lolol and Lee Hongbin is a persistent lil (that admittedly looks good 99% of the time) and oh cookies for those who can guess who's the annoying kid at the beginning! thanks for reading~