Jimin wonders if there is a way out; he wonders if he has taken a different turn earlier – few years ago– things would end differently, or would actually end at all, and he will not be in this mess of a maze without an exit in sight.

Perhaps, perhaps if he has been more careful, wiser and just better in general, he would not be swept into this relationship that is called a relationship just for the lack of a better word.

Years ago he has convinced himself that it doesn’t matter; as long as they are in love with each other, nothing else should be taken into account – that it’s best that everything else and everyone else to be out of their concern. Years after, right now, as he watches the chest before him rising and falling in rough rhythm, he still has doubts.

Perhaps, perhaps things have changed now. Maybe Jimin is a lot better now, the beagle boy image back from his Bangtan days have slipped away as his ballads hit the chart as high as he hits the notes – and the songs, the only things that ever matter, are heard by a lot more people now.

Jimin has done everything he could. He believes he has; whether it was back then when he frolicked around with Taehyung and babied Jeongguk and charmed thousands of girls in their early teens, or now when Taehyung does four dramas in a year, and Jeongguk tours Europe during summer and their fans have grown all grown up as they all are. All of these, and Jimin’s infatuation is still as strong as ever – he is still as in disposal now when they share a king sized bed as he was back when they shared a room with five other members.

Perhaps, perhaps Jimin has proven himself enough. He should be – because he’s tired as hell now and he doesn’t know how much longer he will able to hold on by himself.

“Jeongguk knows.”

Jimin sees Yoongi’s eyelids snap open, followed by a sharp intake of breath. The look of alarm replaces the sleepiness that has claimed him a moment previously and Jimin wishes he could take the words back because he has made yet another mistake, and things haven’t changed at all, and he is still not there at where Yoongi wants him – wherever that is.

“That you write me songs,” he says, words falling slow and heavy, pressured out by Yoongi’s intense gaze. “That you write all my songs. He says it’s obvious and he doesn’t mind the slightest.”

Because Jeongguk could not miss it even if he wants to – because the likes of Jeongguk would know that no one can write songs that perfectly suit Jimin other than Yoongi, even if the latter does not stamp the lyrics with SUGA for obvious reasons. Jeongguk was chuckling when he told Jimin – he found it funny they try to hide it – and Jimin feels the silly, even if it isn’t his idea at all of hiding.

Because it is all Yoongi, nothing else but Yoongi.

Like it has always been.

The revelation is not what Yoongi has expected it to be but he leaves anyway, leaving Jimin to spread his arm on the crumpled sheet, grasping emptily at the space. He beats himself to sleep, listing the reasons why he should have just kept the fact to himself until his eyelids flutter closed. He dreams of the first day he had come to the dorm, a young boy at 17 hailed all the way from Busan and how a hyung who speaks in fading Daegu dialects bullied him into washing dishes but ruffled his hair when he’s done.

When morning drags him back to the reality, the crumpled sheet is still as empty but there is a CD on the night post that was not there last night.

It is not as much as an apology, but Jimin knows Yoongi enough to accept it.

He loves him enough, and so.

Namjoon is now Runch Randa again and Jimin misses him sometimes when he finds it hard to understand what the PD wants from him. Jimin also misses Hoseok when his dressing room gets too quiet to his likings but he isn’t sure if Hoseok remembers him among the dances he has to choreograph for Big Hit’s latest boy group. He is sure Hoseok is having the time of his life, anyway, dance being his forte and all, and he’s sure Seokjin is as well – having just getting married last year. It was then when all seven of them were in the same room for the first time after they call Bangtan a quit two years ago, and it has been the last time since then. 

When Yoongi is not working on songs for Jimin to sing, he is compiling tracks for his mixtapes. When he’s not doing any of those, he does a night radio show for a living. Jimin tunes in most of the time, and he closes his eyes as he listens to the voice that holds the command of his entire being. Sometimes Yoongi plays their old songs, and while the pride is apparent in his voice when he introduces the songs and reminisces about their days as a group, Jimin wonders if Yoongi holds the same pride on him.

Perhaps, perhaps, someday Jimin will be good enough. Good enough for Yoongi to acknowledge, good enough for Yoongi to call Jimin his.

Jimin doesn’t want to tell the whole world, no. It is still a great taboo in South Korea, even if it is not uncommon in their industry but it is still forbidden. Fans fantasise on them being together, but the fact won’t be welcomed for sure. Jimin understands that, but if he can’t shout his love to the world to hear, then, he would want to whisper it to those who mean the world to him. Friends, family – those who love him without conditions unattached – and the four other members Yoongi and he had shared everything with.

They probably have known, but Jimin wants to say it anyway. He just wants to say it loud. He only wants to say it to a soul, to spell it out – because it would feel more real that way, because it would finally feel real.

Perhaps, perhaps, someday. For sure. 

Author's note:

ugh this might have a better ending (probably in Yoongi's perspective) but i might need some prods from you guys /winks/ so tell me what you think! ^^ you have to go through like, 4k of words before Yoongi's perspective lol I am NOT sorry xD