Though he tries his best to keep to himself, Jimin feels like a tourist sitting in the middle of Yoongi’s homely apartment. They called up for a study date because Jimin’s classmates in math actually made the effort to tell him that they were coming over on the weekend, so he made an even greater effort to study beforehand because he knows he won’t get done with them around.

                 Jimin felt a little odd studying by himself and decided he needed a partner; except Taehyung is a lone wolf when it comes to cramming, Hoseok doesn’t even want to mention school, and Namjoon has drastically different classes (‘what the is C++ Programming?’). He told Yoongi of his dilemma, but he hadn’t expected the guy to invite him over, much less expected himself to say yes.

                 So now he’s sitting, both legs folded under himself, upon an old cushion that Yoongi’s grandmother allegedly crocheted in the year 1979.

                 He scrutinizes every nook and cranny of the place while the older boy was off in the kitchen getting drinks. A quick scan tells him the whole apartment is incredibly unorganized. Little bits and pieces of candy wrappers can be found in the weirdest places. Clothes are thrown carelessly across the sofa and shelves, and books lay in piles next to the table which has been obviously shoved towards a dusty window. If Yoongi hadn’t cleared a path for him to walk on earlier, Jimin wouldn’t have known the floor was dark hardwood.

                 He concludes that although a little tidying could be in order, Yoongi’s home is reflective of his personality and there isn’t anything really wrong about that.

                 “Sorry about the mess.” The guy returns with a pair of sodas. “I don’t really know how to clean… or want to.”

                 Jimin laughs, accepting a glass with both hands. “Thank you. And um, well, I-I’m sorry for intruding. D-Do your parents know I’m here?”

                 “Eh, doesn’t matter. I don’t even know where the hell they are.”

                 He stares.

                 Yoongi notices and coughs, embarrassed. “My parents won the lottery last year. They invested and now they’re backpacking across Europe. The last postcard they sent me was from Italy, but I’m not sure where they are now. Probably Finland?”

                 “O-Oh, that must be nice.” Jimin pauses. “Aren’t you lonely?”

                 “Me? Nah, I’m okay.” He takes a sip. “I gotta finish out high school here and maybe I’ll join them for the ride after graduation. They’re kind of wild souls though, I probably won’t catch up.”

                 Jimin smiles fondly before shooting his eyes down at the table. “R-Right, graduation. You’re busy with your own studying too, right?”

                 Yoongi sits down next to him. “My exams are kind of important, yeah, but it’s fine. You can quiz me and I’ll help you out with whatever you need.”

                 “O-Okay.”

                 They both pull out their books and settle down. “What’s your average looking at?” Yoongi asks while flipping through his copy of Shakespeare’s Hamlet. It’s a hardcover, Jimin notes, which is nearly impossible to get within the school. They’re practically part of the class black market, along with metal rulers and functional calculators.

                 Jimin scribbles a couple answers into his notes. “Um… I haven’t received my final assessments back yet,” he replies. “But eighty-nine, I guess?”

                 Yoongi slams his book shut. “Get out.”

                 “Huh?”

                 “THAT’S BASICALLY A NINETY,” he cries. “YOU’RE SITTING AT A ING A-PLUS-PLUS AND YOU’RE HERE STUDYING WITH SOMEONE WHO CAN BARELY GET AN EIGHTY. YOU DON’T EVEN NEED TO STUDY!”

                  Jimin frowns. “I need to maintain it…”

                  “I don’t know how you do it.” Yoongi bemoans, his face diving into his binder. “All I took were art courses, but I’m doing so badly in English that college might not even be an option. Ah, me.”

                  “It’ll be okay,” he says, immediately erasing the fact that he just said ‘ me’ from his mind. “It’s mostly subjective, so if you cater to what your teacher prefers, you’ll leave with a passing mark.”

                  The guy looks at him with a face of mortification. “Is that how you do it? You’re a -up?”

                  He frowns again. “No, I just happen to color the right bubbles in multiple choice.”

                  Yoongi snorts, and then bursts out laughing. As he collapses into himself to muffle the giggles, Jimin blushes profusely and uses the split-second interval to excuse his red cheeks (‘I must have a small fever’). It’s a low, breathless kind of laughter, the kind that takes him by storm.

                  “… S-Stop laughing,” he stammers after a full minute.

                  “S-Sorry, sorry…” The senior stifles a few chuckles. “Okay. I’m good—nope!” He laughs again. “… Okay, for real this time. Whew.”

                  “Good?”

                  “Yeah, I’m fine. I just didn’t imagine you could be so damn sarcastic.” He coughs to avoid laughing like a preteen girl again. “That was ing wild.”

                  Jimin fidgets with his pencil.

                  “Anything I can help you with?” Yoongi reads the cover of his textbook, ‘Functions and Applications’. “I can kind of do math, but I dropped the class after the teach called my dye-job tacky.”

                  “I-It’s okay. Well, actually…” he hesitates. “I might need help with something else?”

                  “Shoot.”

                  He looks down at his notes. “I-I, um… I was dating a girl until recently. Y-You know Chanmi, right? We weren’t anything official, but I like her.”

                  “I’m warning you now,” Yoongi interrupts. “I’m pretty at love advice.”

                  “It’s okay. B-But um, she called it off last month… like she doesn’t want to date anymore. I haven’t said anything, but I don’t want to lose her as a friend. I-I’m just… confused as to why she called it off.”

                  “What did she say?”

                  Jimin furrows his brows and tilts his head. “She said it was because I think about someone else. I guess she implied that I liked someone that wasn’t her? But who…?”

                  Yoongi stares. “What the ? I don’t know, aren’t you supposed to know who you like?”

                  “But I don’t know!” he exclaims, rubbing his face. “I-I’m so confused.”

                  “If you’re thinking of another girl, then that’s it, man.” Yoongi lazily gulps down the rest of his drink. “You like her as a friend. So call it off, give it a rest, and then go after the other girl. There’s no point in hanging around if you’re not into it. It just hurts both of you.”

                  “… I like her as a friend.” Jimin breathes. “I-I guess you’re right. For the longest time, I… I told myself that I liked her, romantically. I guess I was just trying to lie to myself.”

                  “Well, there you go... I’d hate to be that other girl though.” Yoongi snorts. “To think I’d break up another relationship without knowing. Who are you looking at though? A lady in your math class?”

                  “It’s probably you.”

                  Yoongi starts choking. “… Wh-What?!”

                  Jimin’s eyes widen as if he’s suddenly received new information. “I-I THINK YOU’RE THE OTHER GIRL! IT MAKES SENSE!”

                  “WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ‘YOU THINK’?!” He slams a fist down. “DO YOU LIKE ME OR NOT?!”

                  “PROBABLY?”

                  “THAT’S NOT A COHERENT ANSWER, YOU IDIOT!”

                  They don’t speak. Jimin is staring holes into the floor; he can feel Yoongi’s eyes on him and doesn’t move a muscle. His heart is hammering in his ears. He feels absolutely faint. Then Yoongi stands up and leaves without a word, letting him take the chance to break down.

                  He flies into a panic because he doesn’t entirely know where the confession came from. Was Chanmi talking about Yoongi? Does he actually like him in that way? It’s a given that he’s helped him out so many times, and he’s not that bad-looking of a guy either. It’s not like he can take it back now.

                  He picks up his phone and starts typing up a message of distress intended for Taehyung, something along the lines of ‘I accidentally poured my feelings out to a guy I’ve known for only four months’. He spends a moment trying to find the right emoji to express his feelings.

                  Yoongi comes back after a couple minutes, right before Jimin can request assistance or troops. He shrinks into himself when the older reclaims his spot at the table, like nothing happened. “Have you cleared your thoughts?” he asks suddenly.

                  “… Y-Yes.”

                  “And what’s your consensus?”

                  “… I-I like you… I guess.”

                  “I can’t hear you.”

                  “I-I like you.”

                  “Louder.”

                  “… I like you!”

                  “Okay, now spell it out.”

                  “… I-l-i-k-e-y-o-u…”

                  “Sing it.”

                  “H-Hyung…!”

                  Yoongi laughs, and it’s the greatest thing he’s ever seen. “Okay. Okay. Look up.”

                  Jimin slowly raises his head. Hanging above him, tied to a string and attached to a stick, is a small piece of mistletoe. The first thing he says is, “why do you have that…?”

                  The other boy looks unconcerned. “We had Secret Santa exchange within the Yearbook team. I got this.”

                  Then he says, “it’s almost February.”

                  Yoongi leans in. His face—lips—is a breath away, and yet he remains completely expressionless. He whispers softly, like all he’s ever wanted was this moment, right here, right now.

                  “… Can I still kiss you?”

                  Jimin squeaks a softer ‘yes’ and it’s not long before their lips meet, a sweet touch that has them both reeling with bliss. He won’t remember what Yoongi’s lips feel like after this, but something tells him he’ll be able to touch them again.

                  Yoongi backs away much too soon and it’s hard not to laugh at his scarlet cheeks. Then again, his own face is probably on fire as well. “Well, that’s one problem solved,” he says, tossing the mistletoe to god knows where. “I actually need help with something too.”

                  “Y-Yeah?” Jimin tries to look at him, but he can’t. His hands are suddenly more interesting.

                  “I, uh… This is kind of a stretch, but my art class is doing an exhibit in town, and I need just one more submission. The theme is ‘beautiful things’, and most people do inanimate stuff like lamps or stupid like that, but I really wanted to take pictures of you.” He hides his face in his hands. “It might be too soon, but I just… wanted to know if you were interested.”

                  “… I-I’ll do it.”

                  “Really?!” They suddenly make eye contact and both of them shoot towards the wall. “That was a damn quick answer. Are you sure?”

                  “Y-Yeah,” Jimin stammers. “I-It’s kind of my New Year’s resolution.”

                  They quiz each other over the next couple hours, though Jimin tends to zone out in favor of watching the tips of Yoongi’s ears turn pink whenever he catches him staring. It doesn’t help when Yoongi squeezes his hand under the table when he gets questions right, either. At the end of the day, Jimin doesn’t really remember any of his own material, but he doesn’t mind.

                  It’s not like he needed to study anyway.

it was kind of obvious this was going to happen (yoonmin tag coughs) but please censor spoilers!