“Buuuut I am not druuuuuuuunkkkkkk” Jimin ends convincingly with a hiccup.

“Yah, you can’t even walk properly without leaning on me!”

“Yoongi, I think you should bring him back to your place tonight.” Jin swiftly moves over just in time to stop his dongsaeng, who will not stop saying “awww yeaaahhh ziiiiimin” and making weird hand gestures, from crashing into the street lamp nearby. “Jimin would definitely need someone to wake him up tomorrow.”

“Here, get in this cab!” Namjoon manages to flag down a taxi while the rest are still truggling to help Jimin move forwards without knocking down something.

Yoongi dumps the half-conscious kid into the backseat before getting in right next to him.

“See you all tomorrow!” He waves out of the window as the vehicle purrs back to life, and Jimin quickly follows him, half-consciously flapping his small hand without even opening his tired eyes. The taxi slowly takes off.


Minutes later, Yoongi suddenly finds a pair of arms locked around his own, the sleepy dongsaeng snuggling up to his side, head nestled on the bewildered hyung’s shoulder.

“Thank you hyungggg…” Jimin murmurs tipsily “for the bachelor party...” and gives in to sleepiness before Yoongi can mutter a reply.

Yoongi feels Jimin’s blushing cheeks through the thin layer of his shirt, and his skin starts to burn at the familiar warmth. The younger’s breath that brushes softly against his shoulder becomes slower, but his grip around Yoongi’s arm does not loosen one bit.

It feels as if it was just yesterday, when Jimin was still dozing on the bus to school and Yoongi had to shift himself, carefully, because leather chair could be so noisy and he wouldn’t want to wake the tired kid up, so that the younger could comfortably put his head on the elder’s bony shoulder.

Yoongi nuzzles his chin in Jimin’s messy hair and breathes in the familiar comfort. The kid. He chuckles at his own ridiculousness. ‘The kid is getting married.’

***

His phone buzzes. “Sister-in-law”? Yoongi snickers to the screen. It must be Jimin’s doing – that awful nickname - after Yoongi kept on refusing to save her number.

Sister-in-law: “Are you bringing Jimin back to your place tonight?”

Yoongi: “Yes, I am. He’d had a lot to drink."

Sister-in-law: “Thank you so much, oppa!!! I hope he doesn’t bother you >__<”

Yoongi: “He is sleeping soundly now.”

Sister-in-law: “Oh, is he? thank you again Yoongi oppa… Rest well. I will see you both tomorrow!”

Yoongi slips his phone back into his pocket and lets out a sigh, maybe, of relief. Weeks ago he was still wishing it was not Bora whom Jimin was marrying. But tonight, when he can count on his fingers the few days left before he see her gracefully walk down the aisle, in a gorgeous wedding dress, towards the teary-eyed Jimin, when there is nothing to else he can do but to genuinely hope that their happy ending dream will come true, the old pain feels… numbed. The regret that has been tormenting his pour soul, feeding on his sleepless nights has probably decided that all is too little too late and lifted its claws off his chest.

Relief, because Yoongi finally gets back the calmness of his lonely hours, and breathing finally gets easier.

Next to him, Jimin quietly moves closer, as if he could somehow sense his hyung’s pain in his sleep, and was trying to repair the unfixable.

***

6 years ago, Jimin breathed Seoul’s air for the first time, just like hundreds others of his hopeful peers, all fresh-eyed and too eager to find their calling within the capital’s busy streets, a dream too big to be contained in his worn-out backpack. Namjoon pitied the naive kid with the conspicuous satori and took him in. Months later, he moved out of the shared apartment and it had only been Yoongi and Jimin since.

The Busan kid brought to the their tiny shelter the warmth Yoongi did not know he needed. For the first time since he bid farewell to his family and chased after his dream, Yoongi got to wake up to the smell of burnt toast and coffee’s aroma, and to find dishes of home-cooked food waiting for him on the dinner table when he returned late at night. The chirpy voice and caring words carved their joyful presence in the empty air of the apartment, and unknowingly they started to fill the void within Yoongi as well.

Yet the only way of saying thanks he knew was to let his little housemate be the first one to hear his new tracks from times to times.

In the past 6 years, among the many nights when Yoongi was too drunk to keep his usual guard up, he told the innocent boy stories too long, too sad, too confusing about the things that haunt him in his sleep and keep him up at night, stories he rarely told because who would listen, would appreciate yet another autobiography about ghostly remorse and broken dreams. Yet, those brown eyes met his with utter sincerity as he poured his heart out, reflecting the pain that had always been made dormant.

When Yoongi finished and the silence afterwards was getting too long, Jimin would blink back the tears at the corner of his eyes, and declared, with cracked voice but absolute certainty, that things will be better, hyung.

At that moment, Yoongi, as confused as he was by the boy’s unexplained confidence, started to believe that they would.

There were also the chilly February days when their landlady invited them over for dinner, because she was a child away from home too and no one should spend Chuseok alone. Yoongi remembered getting caught in Jimin’s hassle when the younger decided to make kimchi to thanks Mrs Lee for her kindness. That’s not how my mother does it in Busan. The younger would say, lavishing on the rare chance of bossing his hyung around. Yoongi would either argue back, or sneak out to take a nap before Jimin dragged him back to the kitchen. Somehow, it was worthwhile when the kid flashed his silliest, brightest smile of pride at the finished product, and when Mrs Lee squeezed both of them within her strong arms.

However, at night, when the apartment was back to its usual stillness, Jimin would hang up the call from his worried parents and get under the blanket with stifled sobs. Yoongi would turn his back against the boy and keep quiet, giving him his personal space. Yoongi couldn’t sleep though. Instead, he secretly listened to every little whimper, wondering if Jimin was actually crying for the both of them.

Hours later, the elder felt the soft damp cheeks pressed against his cold spine, and awkward hands tugged at the hem of his shirt.

“You smell like home, hyung.” Jimin answered an inaudible question.

“I am from Daegu, you idiot.” Yoongi sighed.

***

Yoongi met Bora long before Jimin did.

She was also a frequent customer at Yoongi's favourite Saturday-morning cafe, always occupying the same seat next to the window, ordering the same regular-sized caramel macchiato, and doodling in the same leather-covered sketchbook.

It wasn't her pale skin that caught Yoongi's eyes, or the hint of solemnity in her warm brown eyes that resembles his. It was that strange thing she never failed to do whenever the waiter brought something over, a smile.

It could have been just a polite nod, but the girl did not hesitate to give the biggest "thank you" grin, with happiness so genuine it turned her eyes into cute half-moons, and affection so heart-felt it made her own cheeks flush.

The way she thanked and greeted the staffs with their first names, the way she pushed back the chair when she left, and the subtle nod and embarrassed smile she gave Yoongi when their eyes met, the friendliness and thoughtfulness he noticed in her always brought to Yoongi's mind a certain person.

That certain person insisted on following Yoongi to the cafe one day, after another successful attempt at invading his hyung's personal moments.

The second Jimin saw Bora brushing off that strayed strand of hair and blowing softly on her drink, Yoongi knew the boy had lost it. The spark in his eyes was so strong, so undeniable that Yoongi felt his heart shattering at the bottom of his stomach. It took Jimin just a few too many distracted glances towards the window for Yoongi to sigh in frustration.

"Just talk to her already!"

The five words that later on brought him years of regret.
 

When Bora came, Jimin became to her the support Yoongi had always tried to be for him. It was such a long and painful process when Yoongi slowly realized his dongsaeng no longer needed him as much. Jimin was still too clingy to his hyung for his own good, but he started to laugh and smile and worry for a different reason and Yoongi wasn’t sure why he felt abandoned, but he did.

Yoongi cares about his dongsaeng too much to let a girl get between them. He quietly keeps his distance instead, seeking comfort in the fact that there are still things that only “Yoongi hyung” can do, and questions that only “Yoongi hyung” can answer, although Jimin has seemed to find his ‘home’ elsewhere.

The three years that Jimin and Bora dated were the three years Yoongi tried to not look at her, to get busy with his work every time she came over or invited him to join them for dinner, to not remember her radiant smile, her lingering fragrance even after she left or anything that tell him what a perfect girl she is, or how perfect she is for Jimin.

Don’t they usually say “out of sight, out of mind”?

But Yoongi could not avoid Jimin’s questioning look forever, or worse, to ignore that pained expression on his face as the younger began to feel guilty for whatever obscure reasons behind the awkwardness between the two people he loves most.

“Hyung~ Bora said she really liked the track you uploaded yesterday!”

“…”

“She said she’s been listening to it non-stop since last night!”

“Oh”

“She said she wanted to come to your showcase this Saturday too.”

“Tell her she doesn’t have to.”

“Hyung!”

Yoongi turned around, expecting the same old question.

“Do you… dislike Bora?” Jimin asked, reluctantly with that subtle wince, as if he was awaiting a hit.

“Look! I already told you I don’t dislike her. She can come if she appreciates the music, but don’t make me get close to her! YOU are her boyfriend, not ME!”

“… It just… it would mean a lot to me if you guys actually get along, you know… and Bora is really trying, hyung… if you could tell me what I should do…”

“Park Jimin! Stop-making-it-your-job to change me. I just want to keep my distance, okay?”

Yoongi shut the door on that topic, and on the unexplained anger and sadness building inside.

Crushed paper filled with unarticulated emotions, nights when sleep evaded him, stormy thoughts that even lighted sticks and soju could not calm. Yoongi can not even talk to Namjoon. No, the possibility of Jimin’s knowing it was simply too terrifying for him to even try alleviating his pain by confiding in someone else. No, he simply could not risk that.

"Hyung" Jimin held his breath for a split second "I think I am gonna ask her."

Yoongi froze. He expected this. He knew it was coming. Yet he was too overwhelmed to articulate a coherent reply.

“Ask… meaning… you…”

“I want to marry Bora, hyung.”

He blanked.

“BUT, only if I get your blessing. You are very important to me so it would mean everything if you could approve Bora and consent to our relationship.”

Jimin looked almost desperate for a favourable reply from his dearest hyung. Who is Yoongi to decide whom Jimin can be with? Why is he asking him in the first place? Yoongi knew there was only one answer.

But, his tongue froze in his mouth and he found himself struggling to say what he knew he had to say.

The bright smile and eager look gradually slipped away from Jimin’s face as time passed, and Yoongi swallowed hard.

“Why are you asking me, idiot? Are you scared because you are getting married before your hyung? Of course, I am happy for you!”

Jimin threw his arms around Yoongi. And Yoongi felt the hard jewelry box in Jimin’s pocket as it pressed against his ribs.

***

He was unhappy then but he is not now, when the two boys lie on the same mattress just like months ago. Jimin is still sound asleep, flushed cheeks rising softly with every breath and tiny fingers curling up next to his pillow. Yoongi shifts, carefully, because worn out sheets can be so noisy and he doesn't want to wake the tired kid up, and slowly slips his fingers through the gaps between Jimin’s own.

Tomorrow, the kid may see the empty wardrobe and the packed luggage, and he may ask Yoongi about what he should have told his dongsaeng long time ago, that he simply can’t watch the person he loves marrying someone else – a girl that is more perfect for him than Yoongi in every way possible, that he wishes them well but he needs to go.

But that’s for tomorrow.

Tonight, there shall be no clouded thoughts tonight, and Yoongi slowly slips into the restful sleep his mind has been aching for.