"And how was today for you, Yoongi?"  

"Fine I suppose, I had a little nap, I dreamt."  

"And what did you dream of?"  

"Running."  

"What were you running away from this time?"  

"No, I wasn't running away. I was running towards something."  

"Oh, well that's new isn't it. What exactly were you running towards?"  

"A smile."  

1. 

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"  

No, Yoongi doesn't know the man stood in front of him—he knows that for sure, yet he still asks. This male—this man...why couldn't Yoongi put his finger on it?  

He stood opposite Yoongi, hands braced by his side with military position. He was small, smaller than Yoongi but not by a significant amount. Plus, it suited this stranger much more than Yoongi would admit it suited him. He carried a little baby weight around his cheeks and especially his fingers, it was endearing to say the least. His black bangs swept across his forehead, natural strands with no product forcefully rubbed into his scalp. Yoongi likes that. He's too used to seeing people coat their hair in gel or suffocate it in hairspray until everyone around them (including Yoongi) was coughing their guts up. 

But whoever this man was, he just looked...natural.  

"No, you don't know me."  

His voice was just as light and fluffy as Yoongi imagined. If he closed his eyes, he could picture the strangers voice blooming like a flower in a green, open meadow. No one around, no other flowers to keep him company. It radiated on it's own, had the suns complete and utter attention and had the rainfall at it's demand. His voice was central to everything else around him, his voice was paramount. 

Maybe that's a little too much, but that's the price of being a writer.  

Okay, maybe a dead end writer but still a writer.  

"Then...how can I help you—" 

"Can I sit down?" The male was quick to intervene and Yoongi was left stunned. He even moved back a little just from the sureness the stranger seemed to exude. It was quiet for a minute, chatter from the rest of the café swallowing their atmosphere whole. Yoongi was contemplating, contemplating why on earth some random guy had just stood in front of his table and why had he asked so meekly if he could join him?  

Odd, but Yoongi still says, "yeah," in a hushed tone.  

The stranger wasted no time in joining, the chair giving a horrible screech across the tiles in the process, turning a few heads. Yoongi was still taken aback because was this really happening? He pulled his MacBook closer to him suspiciously, closing the lid whilst following the males movements.  

What exactly was he looking out for?  

"So...how can I help you—" 

"I'm Jimin," his hand reaches out, waiting—expecting Yoongi to accept the hilarious formality of a handshake.  

His eyes raked down to the chubby fingers waiting patiently, he noted how a few digets were covered in thick, silver rings. They really went well against his skin, so tanned and ran smooth with no scars or blemishes. It didn't take long for Yoongi to throw his own hand out, allowing himself to dominate the handshake with little effort.  

"Yoongi."  

Jimin smiles and the flower in that lonely meadow continues blooming, gorgeous rose petals creeping through as a new, fond color amongst the sea of green, green grass.  

"Jimin, can you er—can you atleast tell me why you're sat with me?"  

"Well, you looked lonely," Jimin pouts, "and I thought you were stressing over something. I hate seeing people stressed."  

"I—I looked stressed?" Yoongi asks.  

Jimin nods, big drawn out ones like a child agreeing to rules their mother has set. "Your eyebrows," his index finger raises up to the center of his own and Yoongi notes how Jimin purposely knits them together. "They were all stressed like this, that's the number one sign you need someone to talk to."  

Yet again, stunned. Yoongi was stunned.  

"Guess you're right," he laughs lightly to himself.  

Jimin hums, his legs swinging back and forth to the point his bottom raises off the chair slightly. "You were typing something, d'you mind if I ask what?" 

Funny. Now he chooses to show a bit of etticate.  

Yoongi twiddles his thumbs a little, fingers tapping over the top of his MacBook. "Er, yeah I'm a writer—kind of." 

"Really?" Jimin smiles eagerly, almost jumping off of his chair. "I love reading, have you written anything I would know?"  

. That one question Yoongi absolutely hates because no, he hasn't actually managed to finish any story he's started. He's a 25 year old male living in a loft apartment who spends pretty much every waking minute either lounged at the TV with a large, cheese pizza, or underneath the covers with his laptop on his knees.  

Just as Yoongi was ready to trip on his tongue and publicly humiliate himself— 

"I draw! But only in my spare time, I work at my dad's bookstore the majority of the time."  

Did—did Jimin just..save him?  

He continued rambling, rambling to the point it didn't even make sense. He was just saying words, but Yoongi was still giving him his full attention. It was as if he was compelled, he couldn't look away whilst the plump lips bobbed up and down, up and down, up and down.  

He doesn't even know Yoongi, why is he going out of his way like this?  

Turns out they were sat in that very café with each other for almost two hours.  

1.1 

"Er, look do you wanna go to this gallery with me tomorrow?"  

"Are you asking me on a date?" Jimin his head, leaving Yoongi spluttering over his coffee. 

"Nuh—no, I'm just...it's an art gallery I've been meaning to go to for a while so..." He mutters around his mug, eyes shifting terribly. 

"Oh," Jimin says, "then sure! I'd love to go with you."  

That was pretty much how they left everything yesterday, now Yoongi was stood outside the very same café, hands in his pockets and his heels rocking off the ground as he waited patiently for Jimin's arrival. 

This is stupid. I just met this guy, why the didn't I just ask Hoseok or something? Oh because Hoseok hates art galleries, right.  

"Yoongi~!"  

His head turned to the source of the melodic cry, and there was Jimin running towards him with a hand waving aggressively through the air. The people surrounding him were the ones walking casually whilst Jimin was wearing a stupid look of exhaustion, why on earth was he running?  

"Idiot," Yoongi bites.  

Jimin arrives infront of him, crouching down with hands on his knees to catch his breath. Yoongi watches the males small back arch up and down, up and down, up and down. It was theraputic really, helped calm down his own breathing—even if he wasn't one to admit it.  

His head shoots up, bangs flopping in a cartoon manner at the motion. "Sorry I'm late, Momo had to be let out this morning and I completely forgot!"  

"Momo?" Yoongi questions.  

"Oh yeah, Momo's my cat!"  

Huh, should have guessed. 

Jimin continued to speak fondly and proudly over his cat, and Yoongi paid attention to every little detail. Even the little brown patch she has on the back of her paw, the fact her fur is very, very delicate and Jimin has to buy special detergent for whenever he washes her bedding. He listens to everything, but he can't help noticing the way Jimin is dressed. 

On the top was an oversized black and white striped jumper, hanging terribly off of his arms to the point his hands became non-existent. The swoop of the jumper allowed his collarbones to be exposed, a few moles dotted around the prominent structure and a few disappearing underneath fabric. The bottom was a simple pair of black trousers, a little loose fitting and actually the perfect attire for being stood up in some gallery for a good few hours. His shoes were simple converse, black and white just like the jumper but they were incredibly battered. Jimin twiddled his toes together, his feet turned in bashfully and Yoongi realized Jimin had been doing this throughout his entire cat speech. 

Hm.  

They arrived from a short taxi ride, a taxi ride Yoongi couldn't help but catch the way Jimin pushes his hair off of his brow when he exhales loudly, how he taps his feet against the car mat whenever they were stuck at a red light, how his humming is so ing calming when in reality it should be annoying as helll. They were sat close, close in the sense you would be with a friend. Their shoulders almost touching. A few bumps on the way caused them to collide and Yoongi would be quick to look at Jimin's reaction, but Jimin was still humming happily and tapping his feet playfully.  

What the are you looking for?  

It turned out Jimin was the one who led them around the gallery, tugging shyly on the hem of Yoongi's shirt to signal moving to another piece.  

Soon Jimin was eagerly pulling Yoongi around the place, even going as far as to hooking his arm with Yoongi's. He jolted a little because Jimin was so, so warm. Is it even possible to have your whole body radiate with heat just from another person's touch? Yoongi thought about it a second or two before pushing it aside, because Jimin was tugging on his arm and bringing him back to planet Earth. 

"What d'you think of this one?" Yoongi asks, hands sliding in his pockets as he rocked on the balls of his feet.  

Jimin his head with a pout, his finger tapping consciously along his lips. It didn't take much until he said, "not much. It's just a bunch of blocks." 

Yoongi couldn't help but splutter chuckles, and Jimin creased at the way Yoongi's body practically fell from laughter. It was the first time he'd actually seen Yoongi laugh, really laugh. Even if he was trying to hold back a little, Jimin could tell it was genuine.   

"Really? I thought you liked to draw."  

"I do, I'm an art major." Jimin says flatly, rendering Yoongi's humor to die down effectively.  

"Yu—you're an art major?"  

Jimin nods.  

A ing art major? But then, doesn't that mean— 

"Jimin, how old are you?" 

"Hm? 19."  

1.2  

Nineteen, Jimin is nineteen.  

Nine-ing-teen you !  

"Yoongi?" Jimin calls in confusion, "you haven't said anything in a bit, it's kind of worrying me."  

", er. Sorry, my mind was running away." Obviously it was because he's ing nineteen! Yoongi's laugh was terribly forced, even if Jimin didn't know the man well—he can definitely tell a false laugh when he hears one. Yoongi began to walk along towards the rest of the displays, Jimin following behind him in a state of bewilderness because what the hell was happening?  

"Uh, Yoongi? Does my age bother you that much?" 

"No, no," Yoongi says hurriedly, turning around in one quick motion. "Why should it bother me? We're just at an art gallery together..."  

"Because this is a date?"  

Yoongi's spluttering comes back in full force and Jimin just watches, watches in silence as he lets Yoongi go through his wheezing and coughing.  

"Jimin, this isn't a date. For one you're nineteen and—"  

"You didn't know that before hand?"  

, he was good—and it didn't stop there.  

"And I told you I like to draw, you know I like art."  

Well that sure as hell was true and left Yoongi choking on his own spit.  

"Yoongi," he calls suddenly and the elder makes a groan in response, "is this a date?"  

, , , ! Just answer him, say it isn't a date. Say it's just two guys visiting an art gallery because that's exactly what it is. Don't just stand here, he's waiting for an answer you . Oh god, oh god, oh god.  

Eventually Yoongi clicked his tongue, throwing a hand on Jimin's head to guide him before grumbling, "let's get something to eat, I'm hungry."  

1.3  

Yoongi took Jimin to a grill, one he tends to visit often with someone like Namjoon or Hoseok. He never thought he'd be in here with a nineteen year old, (incredibly cute) boy. Jimin was more than open to the idea though, having never been to a grill himself.  

"So, Yoongi~" Jimin calls halfway through the meal, daytime now bleeding into night.  

Yoongi groans something similar to "yeah", whilst swirling his chopsticks hurriedly around the noodles. He paused suddenly, eyes wide as they panned up to be seated on Jimin, "hyung. Why aren't you calling me hyung?"  

"Oh, it slipped my mind." He shrugs. 

Yeah, sure it did.  

"Hyung," Jimin repeats whilst reaching for a piece of pork belly, saliva already collecting in the back of his throat. "How long have you been writing?"  

Yoongi slurps—loud. Noodles upon noodles entering and disappearing between the thin, pink lips. He munches a good few times, swallowing audibly and becomes sated with a content sigh. "Since I was in high school, I found a hobby and just kinda sticked with it. What about you with art?"  

"Since I was around nine, my father is an artist so I just kinda picked it up."  

Yoongi nods, already shuffling a new group of noodles between his chopsticks.  

"So, hyung. How old are you?"  

"25," he mutters with a full mouth.  

Jimin nods collectively, calmly. Tongs moving and shuffling raw pieces of beef. Yoongi watches with heavy eyes for Jimin's reaction—again. But there's nothing, nothing that signals holy  or the fact he feels uncomfortable. He's completely content.  

"Does that not bother you?" He finally asks.  

Jimin shakes his head, "this isn't a date. Why should it bother me, hyung?"  

Huh, smartass.  

Yoongi bites his tongue—hard, especially from the cocky little grin Jimin's wearing so proudly right now.  

"Don't get smart now, kid." He warns and Jimin giggles, the flowers are blooming again, the sun is shimmering light and gold down upon rose petals, the wind runs aside and whistles against blades of grass. Despite being caught in his own enigma of Jimin, he's entranced by the way Jimin practically crumbles. His body collapsing in on itself, hand raised but failing miserably to cover such a large grin.  

My god, Yoongi thought, you're ing beautiful.  

After the warmth that is Jimin's laughter dies down, the conversation continues.  

"Why should it bother me? I knew you were older from the start, you're basically a grandpa—"  

"I'm what?" He snaps, chopstick stabbing into the rice bowl.  

"You're a grandpa?" Jimin is unphased, "come on. You drag your feet everywhere, you grumble and mutter complaints under your breath. Grandpa!"  

Yoongi hushes him with a finger, "people are gonna hear you."  

Jimin smiles again, a little more shy than the others but still enough to tug at Yoongi's heart strings. "Whatever," he mutters and turns back to eating.  

Yoongi does the same.  

1.4 

After stuffing their faces they caught the taxi back, Yoongi giving the man Jimin's (recently told) address. Jimin was a little more attentive than at the start of the date day, nuzzling against Yoongi's shoulder with a prolonged groan. His cheek rubbing against the firm arm, body turned in and Yoongi could feel that heat again, that welcoming, sweet, heat.  

Jimin was tired, completely exhausted from bubbling laughter but mainly food. Yoongi was practically his human pillow. 

He was surprised from how easy it was to wrap an arm around Jimin's small frame, how comfortable it felt to sigh and shift into each other's bodies. It felt—it felt normal, it felt right.  

"Alright, we're here," the taxi driver calls, turning back to witnessed the two snuggled males. He chuckles, eyes shifting from Jimin and then to Yoongi. "Big night?"  

Yoongi hums, "something like that." He smirks to himself before attempting to shift Jimin, prodding at his cheek but nothing was given in response.  

.  

Yoongi groaned, looking up to the block of flats and then down to Jimin. He had no choice—he stepped  out first, swiftly hooking Jimin's arms around his shoulders, "keep the meter running," he says before literally carrying Jimin towards the flats. He tried several times to wake Jimin up a little, asking him for what damn number he should buzz. But Jimin just groaned, rubbing his cheek against the mans shoulder further. 

. 

Yoongi literally was contemplating on whether he should bring Jimin back to his or not, but that was a last resort. Besides, he was saved within seconds.  

"Er, can I help you?" A voice came from behind, Yoongi turned hurriedly to see a tall male. Definetly taller than Yoongi (annoyingly), his fringe was heavy against his face and locks incredibly dark. He was definitely a handsome man—a handsome student.  

"Er, well I kind of have this student here and—" 

"Jimin?" The man walks forward, eyes narrow upon said male. "Jimin is that you?" He reaches carefully to poke at his cheek, and the whine exuded definitely gave him the answer he needed. Now his eyes raked up to Yoongi, full of suspicion and concern.  

"No er, we're friends."  

Sort of.  

The man nods slowly, "d'you want me to take him? Don't worry, he's my best friend."  

Oh, right. 

Yoongi is quick in his movements, but still careful manouvering Jimin's body over onto the man's. They exchanged hushed goodbyes before Yoongi was on his way.  

Well, sort of.  

"Wait," he calls whilst running towards the two in a pant. The man stays silent, let's Yoongi's gasps fill the air. "Give him this," his hand reaches out with a piece of ripped white paper, and there lay his mobile number. "I was meant to give it him before so..."  

The man's face lightens up slightly as he accepts the paper with a smirk. "He's cute, isn't he?" He suddenly says, rendering Yoongi speechless. The man doesn't need anything else—the expression was confirmation enough. He smiles and says, "I'll make sure he gets it."  

1.5  

That night when Yoongi was in the comfort of his sofa and a glass of whiskey on the rocks, he received a phone call. He groaned at the vibrating object on the coffee table, reaching forward with little effort before realizing it read 'unknown number', for some reason that made him all the more eager to pick up.  

"Hello?" He sits up, blanket falling off of his shoulders and pooling around his waist.  

Er, yoongi? Hyung? 

. He knows that voice, and it sounds just as magical and delicate through the receiver. He swallows thickly, hands pulsating before he clears his throat and continues.  

"Yeah?"  

It's Jimin 

Of course it's Jimin, he already knew that. He just wanted to hear him say it.  

"Oh, hey," he mutters whilst looking down to his watch, "Jimin it's like 3am, why're you up?" 

I dunno, I couldn't sleep that well.  

Erm, actually I just wanted to thank you. 

"Thank me, for what?" 

For today, I had a really good time hyung.  

It was nice to meet you—to spend time with you. 

"Oh, yeah. I had a good time as well." Jimin hums and then it falls silent, the muttering of the TV being Yoongi's company and the crackle in the connection being Jimin's. It was as if they were both waiting for something, waiting for what? There were a few times when Yoongi could hear Jimin inhale, inhale deeply as if he was preparing to say something. But then it would die quickly on his tongue. 

Hyung I—  

"Jimin, do you wanna grab some coffee at the end of the week or something?"  

He said it. He actually said it.  

I—yes I would love to.  

"Good," Yoongi smiles to himself, "then I'll see you on Friday?"  

Y—yes.  

"Okay, now get some rest. Don't you have class tomorrow?"  

Mm, yeah I do.  

Okay, I'll see you later hyung! 

"See you later, kiddo."  

That was the end of it, the line went dead. Yoongi sunk down into his blanket, sighing from the burning warmth. It wasn't the most comfortable of heats anymore, it used to be one of Yoongi's favourites. But now it feels synthetic—temporary.  

Nothing like—nothing like Jimin.  

Okay, I'll see you later hyung! Rang throughout Yoongi's ears, it was merely impossible for him to focus on the film anymore. All he could hear was Jimin. 

"," he whispers, turning on to his back and throwing an arm over his forehead, "what the am I doing?"  

1.6 

Friday came along much faster than Yoongi expected, and right now he was sat in the coffee shop he texted Jimin about, tapping his fingers along the wooden table as he stared at the passerby's out of the window. He's only been here for about 5 minutes, but Yoongi's paranoia starts to kick in.  

Will he really show up? It's not as if he owes me anything. 

Yoongi pouts, looking down to examine his own outfit. It isn't anything special, an old worn out TAXI DRIVER black tee, some black jeans and a pair of maroon Chelsea boots. Maybe he should have dressed up a little more, but it was only two people getting coffee after all.  

"Oh god, I'm so sorry!" A voice rang and Yoongi's head wired up, there was Jimin who just so happened to bump into a waitress, resulting in coffee being splattered all over her tray. Jimin was apologizing profusely, even offering to pay for the coffee. The waitress simply dabbed her apron around the splotches of coffee that landed on her, telling the boy it's completely fine and accidents happen. 

Yoongi smirked, something was endearing about watching Jimin squirm over a little spilt coffee.  

Dummy.  

Jimin's eyes eventually clicked with Yoongi's, he jumped and scurried over to the table.  

"Sorry I'm late!" He gasps, "it's just—"  

"Momo?" Yoongi suggests calmly, allowing Jimin to breathe a sigh of relief whilst sliding in to the booth. Jimin was already initiating conversation, and that conversation was completely about Momo. Yoongi doesn’t mind, he loves animals anyway and he's willing to hear people's pet stories. It's a shame he can't keep any in the loft.

As interesting as the conversation was, Yoongi couldn't take his eyes off of Jimin's outfit—again.  

This time it was a pair of dark wash dungarees with a simple black and white striped tee underneath, Yoongi was starting to notice Jimin's fondness of monochromatic stripes. Really it shouldn't suit his personality, he's so vibrant, unpredictable and radiant—the complete opposite to the tops he throws on. But it works, he looks so ing soft, so innocent.  

Everything on Jimin works.  

One of the straps to the dungarees was sliding off of his shoulder, they were a little big for him. 

Jimin looked so good, whilst Yoongi looked like the dead end writer he is.   

"Hey," Jimin calls with a of the head, "you look really good." 

, what?  

Yoongi's eyes widen involuntarily, his blood runs cold, his chest wheezes. Something so simple, such a simple statement had him weak. What the ?  

"Thu—thanks," he stumbles, scratching the back of his head, "you er, you look nice too."  

Nice, you look ing adorable.  

"Really?" Jimin pouts, pulling on the straps a little. "I'm glad," he giggles, "thank you."  

The two ordered their drinks. Jimin getting a cappuccino and Yoongi taking his coffee black.  

"How can you drink it like that?" Jimin grimaces, "it tastes so bad to me."  

"When you become an old man it's kind of a given."  

They both smile to each other, taking silent sips of their hot drinks.  

"So like, are you gonna mention your age every time we see each other? Cause it's gonna get sooo boring," Jimin drones on, rolling his eyes for affect.  

Yoongi kicks Jimin's shin lightly under the table, laughter errupting from the younger in the process. "Shut up," he bites and Jimin grins.  

"So, hyung," Jimin places his mug down silently before resting his chin on the palms of his hands. He was looking directly in Yoongi's path, rendering Yoongi to burn his tongue a little. Funny, he hasn't done that in a while. The elder placed his own drink down too, humming at Jimin's call.  

"What is this?" Jimin asks.  

This time Yoongi remains calm, he taps his fingers against the wood just to tease Jimin a little further. He can't help but smirk at the soft whine bubbling from Jimin's lips, "hyung~" he whails softly. 

"This?" Yoongi repeats and Jimin nods. Yoongi tilts his head, bangs falling over his eyes and confident smirk still on show. All before he opens his mouth and says, "this is a date."