Dating was annoying. It stressed you out and you rarely ever had a good time. You couldn’t remember the last time you went out for dinner and enjoyed it. The concept of going to the movies without the displeasure of peeling some sleazy guy’s arm off of your shoulder was a distant memory. You absolutely hated going on dates. Your parents, however, didn’t seem to care, considering how frequently they set you up on blind dates with their coworkers’ children.

“You’re 20 and you’ve never had a relationship,” your mother lamented one day as you ate dinner at the table for once. You’re soon reminded of the reason why you scurry off into your room with food every night. It’s times like these that you regret not choosing to move out despite living nearby your university. “I’m just worried that you’ll won’t find ‘the one’ on time. You’re not going to be young and pretty forever.”

“Your mother and I only want you to be happy,” your father adds, a little less dramatically as he pops a piece of steak in his mouth.

“Happy and in a relationship I never asked for?” you raise a brow, desperately wanting to roll your eyes. You didn’t need a relationship at the moment. You were perfectly content with your life, in fact. You were an independent young woman working towards a university degree and maintained a pretty decent social life on the side. “I’m going to go study,” you sigh, placing your plate in the sink before speeding out of the kitchen.

“We planned a dinner tomorrow with Mr. Kim’s son for you by the way,” you mother shouts as you run up the stairs. You catapult yourself onto the bed and scream into your pillow. Was being “young and pretty” supposed to be this infuriating?

--

“I don’t know why you hate going on these dates so much,” your best friend Jimin commented as he rested his head on some library books, ready to knock out for a couple of hours. Then there was you, nose deep in a textbook, messy bun threatening to come loose. “It’s basically a free night out.”

“Tell me,” you whip your head up to shoot him a glare, strands of hair falling to your face, “how would you like it if you had to constantly doll up to meet random boys on a weekly basis? Do you know how much time I waste? A lot, Jimin. A whole ing lot.”

Jimin laughs at you, sounding like the tinkering of wind chimes. “Then don’t doll up. Show up in some sweatpants and seduce the guy like that. I bet you he’ll be the one wanting to abandon ship.”

“Right. Because my mom would let me leave the house looking like complete trash,” you retort, swiftly shooting down his idea.

“She let you leave the house this morning, didn’t she?”

“Goodbye Jimin,” you deadpan, packing away your pencil case and notebooks.

Jimin laughs even harder, pulling you back to your seat. You irritably slam your belongings back on the table and huff, crossing your arms like a child. “Okay I’m sorry, don’t be mad,” he apologizes, poking your cheek. “What else is terrible about going on dates?”

You slap his hand away from your face and frown. “Everything,” you groan. “If I leave the guys too early, my mom gets all upset at me and starts a melodrama in our living room. Don’t get me started on if I try to stand the guy up. My mom was in hysterics. My brother stayed over at his friend’s because of how crazy she got.”

“Why don’t you leave and hang out somewhere else for however long?” he proposes, running a hand through his fluffy black hair.

“In a skirt and wedges at night without a car? No thanks,” you mumble, resting your chin on the table with arms outstretched, your oversized hoodie seeming like it was swallowing you whole. Jimin giggles at you, petting your head in sympathy.

“Ah, I’ve got it!” Jimin retracts his hand from you, snapping his fingers.

“What?” you prompt, sitting up straight.

“Why don’t I just bail you out of your dates?” he suggests with a grin. “Like every time you need me to rescue you, you send me a text and I’ll be there.”

“…Seriously?”

“You heard me,” he reassures you, even holding up his pinky to link with yours. “I promise. I will do everything in my power to help you get out of your dates.”

“Alright I guess we have a deal then,” you laugh, latching onto his pinky with yours. You weren’t sure if things would go well, but you trusted him, you knew that much at least.

“Just call me your bailout.”

He was your best friend after all.

--

“And then I said to the guy, keep your money I want change,” your date Seokjin laughs obnoxiously, his snorts heard throughout the entire restaurant. You force yourself to laugh out of sheer politeness. Or rather, you laugh because it’s the only thing you’ve been able to do for the past hour or so. Every time you tried to contribute to the conversation, he would cut you off to tell another cringe inducing joke.

Seokjin wasn’t funny in the slightest. A sad clown might be funnier than him. He was so unfunny that it physically hurt to be there any longer. You pull out your phone to text Jimin a quick “please help” along with the address of the place you’re at. Within seconds, you’re shoving it back into your purse and fake yet another giggle for the man.

After the ten longest minutes of your life, your phone rang, catching the attention of the both of you. The terrible jokes finally came to a halt. “Hello?”

“First of all, gasp and say ‘oh no’ in your most distraught voice,” Jimin instructs you over the phone.

“Oh no!” you cry with furrowed brows, covering your mouth with your hand. You could hear Jimin’s soft chuckling from the other end.

“Okay great, now tell whatever loser you’re sitting with that your friend fell down the stairs and you need to leave,” he continues.

You cover the bottom half of your phone and shake your head in remorse (but not really). “I’m so sorry. My best friend got into an accident and fell down the stairs,” you sputter, picking up your bag. “He really needs me right now. I’m sorry but I have to go.”

“Oh I see, do you—”

“Immediately, you have to go immediately!” Jimin stresses.

“I-immediately,” you stammer, calling over a waiter to your table.

“I’m waiting outside at the front.”

“I’m sorry, it was a pleasure to meet you,” you apologize one last time before dashing out of the restaurant. You hear your Seokjin shout your name from the distance, but it becomes a muffled noise as soon as you’re out the door. You beam at the sight of your best friend and hurriedly jump into the front seat.

“I’m blessed to have a friend like you,” you gush, fastening your seatbelt as Jimin drives out of the plaza. You giggle at the sight of him in a loose t-shirt and messy hair, appreciating that probably he woke up from his nap to come and get you.

“Most people are,” he muses as you punch him in the shoulder.

“I lied, you’re a kind of a loser,” you quip.

Jimin simply chuckles at your insult, pausing at the stoplight. “Well do you want to go anywhere with this loser right now?” he asks with one hand on the wheel. A trait he picked up over the years to be like the cool kids, you remember him telling you.

You hum in thought as you place a finger on your chin. “Let’s go to the new cat café by your house!”

--

You aren’t sure when your dates with random coworkers’ sons turned into nights out with Jimin, but you didn’t mind much. Especially when he was ten times more fun then whoever your parents set you up with. At one point, he just started to follow you to all your rendezvous, knowing you would call him within the first hour anyway.

“I’m sorry you have to keep doing this,” you sigh one evening as you two loitered at an ice cream parlour. You felt slightly guilty that he had to waste so much time on you, not to mention gas money. It had been nearly two months since you accepted his proposal and you were beginning to feel apologetic towards your best friend. This was the seventh date he had to drag you out of. “If it’s too troublesome, you don’t have to bail me out anymore. I’ll it up.”

Jimin leans back in his seat and gasps exaggeratedly, clasping a hand over his heart. “That’s so thoughtful of you,” he fakes a sob.

“Shut up,” you scrunch up your face, taking a spoonful of his ice cream.

“If it was too troublesome I wouldn’t have offered in the first place,” Jimin disputes, flashing one of his trademark smiles. “And besides, a promise is a promise. I’d do anything for you.”

“Shut up,” you grumble again, taking his entire cup this time. You hope downing the ice cream would make the blush on your face go away.

--

“Sorry, I have to go to the washroom,” you smile sheepishly at your date Namjoon, excusing yourself from dinner. You strut away from your mother’s latest catch and slip into a small hallway near your table, texting Jimin when you’re out of his sight. Your best friend nods in your direction and sprints from his seat in the corner towards your table, taking over your chair.

“I’m sorry, who are—”

“Dude, you’re making a mistake right now,” Jimin whispers harshly, whipping his head in every direction, pretending to fear your return.

“I don’t understand,” Namjoon crinkles his forehead in puzzlement as he watches as Jimin fidget in his chair.

“Shush!” Jimin hushes your date, slapping a hand over his mouth. “Listen. Dude. Guy. Bro to bro. Are you trying to get laid tonight?”

Your ears perk up at the question and a part of you swears to kill Jimin after you two are done here. When notice your date slowly nodding his head, you try to hold back the urge to vomit.

“Don’t do it. If you cherish your manhood, you’ll leave. Like right now,” Jimin explains to him in a tone so serious, you can’t help but to stifle a laugh, earning strange looks from surrounding waiters. “She’s wild, that’s all I’m going to say.”

“Are you talking about the right person?”

Jimin cups his hand over the boy’s lips again, widening his eyes a considerable amount. “Bro. When I hooked up with her…” he trails off, trying to find the right words. “Let’s just say… her kinks aren’t fulfilled until you end up in the ER.”

Namjoon’s face is beyond horrified when Jimin finishes talking, as he stares down at his pants. Your best friend snaps his head in your direction and shoots a brief wink at you, before rushing out of the restaurant, leaving your date in nothing short of confusion.

“Sorry I took so long,” you smile sweetly at your date, sitting back down. It doesn’t take long until he asks—no, nearly begs, the waiter for a check. You assume that he never wants to contact you again based on how he offered to call a cab for you, despite having a perfectly functioning car that he drove you in.

“You’re so extra,” you roll your eyes, changing out of your dress in the backseat of Jimin’s car and into a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt he had lying in the back. These rescue missions had become so much like routine for the two of you, you took it upon yourself to turn a fraction of his car into your closet.

“I like to get creative sometimes,” he laughs, eyes shut tight until you tell him it’s okay to see again.

You hop over the handbrake to sit in the passenger seat and grin, slipping off your heels for a pair of converse you also kept in the back. “Well, I’m pretty sure he never wants to see me again,” you snicker, changing the radio station to something more upbeat. “Thanks, Jiminnie.”

“Other acceptable nicknames include Genius Jimin, O Great One and Our Lord and Saviour Jimin Christ,” he beams as he snaps on your seatbelt for you, drowning you in the scent of his cologne in the process. You forget all about insulting Jimin because of how intimate he is right now. He gives off the fragrance of lemon and musk and it occurs to you that you’re paying a little too much attention to how your best friend smells. “Where do you want to go tonight?” he asks with a smirk. It was almost like he knew what he was doing to you.

“How about we split for a pizza?” you mutter into the window with your face turned away, ears tinging red.

“Sorry?” Jimin replies. You could feel him bring himself closer to hear better.

“I said pizza!” you unintentionally shout into his ear, mostly due to embarrassment. Jimin jerks back to his seat, slightly surprised by your outburst.

“Alright,” he laughs awkwardly, backing out of the parking spot. You suddenly have a slight urge to cry. “Pizza it is.”

You had an even bigger urge to punch yourself in the throat.

--

 

It bothers you for days thinking about how flustered Jimin has been making you feel the past while. In fact, it’s borderline infuriating how fast your heart beats when he does normal Jimin things. You never had an issue with sharing platonic hugs with the boy until now. You definitely never reddened at his head pats before either. It was driving you crazy. He was your best friend and that’s all he would ever be.

That’s what you told yourself especially when you had a date with a cuter than usual boy named Hoseok.

“Do you want popcorn or nachos?” your date asked you with a smile.

“Nachos would be nice,” you replied absentmindedly as Hoseok pulled his wallet out of his pocket.

“Oh no, it’s okay I’ll pay for it,” you shook your head frantically, digging into your purse.

By the time you got your wallet out, he had already paid. Hoseok was pleasant in every way possible and you were grateful for that. It was the first time you didn’t call Jimin within the first thirty minutes. He was a breath of fresh air in your horror-story of a love life. Even so, Jimin followed behind, waiting for that special text.

The three of you walked into the theatre, proceeding up all the steps to the very top row. You weren’t certain, but you thought you saw your date extend his hand out behind him for you to clutch for a second.

“After you,” Hoseok grins, gesturing you to sit first. You could faintly hear the sound of Jimin mockingly gag at him, but Hoseok didn’t know that. You shyly complied, taking a hold of the nachos to let him get comfortable. From the corner of your eye, you could see your best friend at the end seat of your row, just a few metres away.

You and Hoseok fall into a hushed conversation throughout the entire movie. You cracked light hearted jokes with one another and posed short comments about the poor acting. You were so comfortable that you didn’t even notice the boy’s arm sneak around you, gently prompting you to lean your head against his shoulder. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were having a decent time. A great time, if you could say so yourself. But no matter how many times he whispered in your ear or caught your gaze, you couldn’t bring yourself to swoon over him.

When the movie ends, the two of you separate shortly until Hoseok’s hand finds yours and intertwines your fingers with his own. Right ahead, you see Jimin trudging down the stairs rather swiftly and you feel guilty for not at least sending a speedy text to let him know he was free to leave.

“I had a great time tonight,” Hoseok confesses, letting go of your hand as you reach the front of the movie theatre.

“Me too,” you agree distractedly, more interested in your best friend’s whereabouts. You searched around the room, hoping that he stayed long enough for you to at least express your remorse. He couldn’t have left that quickly.

“Are you okay?” Hoseok asks you with concern written all over his face.

You nod your head and let out an uneasy laugh. “Yeah I’m fine, I just…” you respond, regrettably locking eyes with him. You’re sure that you look like a deer in headlights when you do.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he replies softly, boldly placing his hands at the curve of your hips. You’re sent into a state of panic when he stares down at you, leaning in. His heart shaped lips were coming closer than what you were prepared for.

You aren’t sure what compelled you to turn away from Hoseok’s oncoming lips, but you did and you’re left in the awkward aftermath of facing a boy you accidentally rejected. “I’m sorry,” you blurt out.

Hoseok only laughs in response and waves off your constant apologies. “No, I’m sorry,” he says, insisting he’s okay. “I should’ve asked if you wanted to kiss me. I still really enjoyed tonight. Do you want a ride home?”

By the ticket booth, you instantly notice Jimin sitting alone, browsing through his phone and aggressively stuffing his mouth with popcorn. “No I have a ride,” you answer slowly, ready to walk towards your tiny ball of irritation. “It was a pleasure to meet you,” you smile, giving Hoseok a short hug to bid him goodbye.

You jog over to Jimin and stand over him, mildly anxious to speak to him. “Hey,” you mumble, fiddling with the hem of your skirt.

“Hey,” Jimin replies, not bothering to look up. It makes you uncomfortable how still it is between the two of you. It was a rare occurrence. You couldn’t remember the last time you had an awkward silence with him. “How was your date?”

It feels like a jab in the stomach when he asks you and you feel worse than you did before after you mutter, “it was fun.”

“Why didn’t you go home with him?” Jimin suddenly questions, catching you off guard. You don’t reply, unsure of the answer yourself. You suppose that your shock is as clear as day because he doesn’t press the matter any further. “Never mind, let’s go,” he concedes, smacking his lips together. You simply follow him to his car, a million thoughts occupying your mind.

“Are you mad at me?” you ask calmly, not wanting to upset him.

No is all he says before he starts the car to take you home. You’re grateful that he turns on some music to fill the silence. The ride back home is tense and you can almost hear Jimin’s breathing through the sound of whatever song was playing. The two of you pull up at your house, sitting in the quiet once again.

You look over at your best friend and purse your lips, seeing that he still avoided eye contact with you. “Are you sure you’re not mad at me?”

“Yes!” Jimin raises his voice, making you wince slightly. Yet another phenomenon, you note. You don’t make any move to exit the vehicle, unwilling to leave like this. Jimin lets out a heavy sigh and buries his face in his hand, resting his arm against the window. “I’m really sorry. I don’t have any right to be so upset with you… I just. I don’t know, it’s stupid.”

You stare at your best friend in complete bewilderment. “No it’s not stupid,” you comfort him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Jimin pushes himself to look at you for the first time that night and distress is evident in his expression; as well as what looked like small pout. You felt terrible for wanting to pinch his cheeks at that moment.

“I liked you first, okay?” Jimin huffs as he ruffles his hair, turning away from you once again. “But then whatever his face came along and stole your heart making dumb googly eyes at you when I should’ve been with you. That’s why I’m upset.”

Your jaw drops and your heart feels like it’s going a million beats per second. His words finally register in your mind and you can’t hide the fact that you’re smiling the widest you have in ages. “Jimin,” you call his name, grinning when you realize he’s trying to block you out because of pure humiliation.

“Jimin,” you say a little louder this time.

“Jimin!”

“What?” he turns around, completely red in the face and a little out of breath. You could practically hear the sound of his pulse.

Mustering every ounce of courage there was in you, your hands cupped his cheeks instantly, drawing him into you as you smashed your lips against his. You could feel him grin into the kiss, in addition to the hand he slipped around your head to pull you in more. Your lips melded against each other’s and it was nothing like you had experienced before. As you parted from him, you felt warm all over.

“While we’re on the subject, I think I liked you first.”