After eating and chatting for a bit, Yoongi’s group of friends decide to return to the dance hall to unwind. The mood is getting hyped up; everyone is screaming, jumping around and having the time of their lives. Jimin, however, still has a persistent frown on his face.

                  “Let’s not get too turnt, children,” Yoongi jokes, subconsciously reaching for the latter male’s hand as they walk. “Or else you’ll get cramps.”

                  Jimin fakes a yawn and swings his hand over his mouth. Thankfully, Yoongi gets distracted by someone calling him a mom and doesn’t notice. He vaguely wonders how long he’ll be able to keep up the act; there’s nothing more he’d want than to hold Yoongi’s hand right now.

                  “Alright, it’s time for me to get my moves on and possibly attract a date,” Dasom says, eyeing the dance floor. “We’ll leave you lovebirds alone, hm?”

                  “Wait—” he starts, indicating that he did not want to be alone with Yoongi. But she already slips away with the rest of their crew, merging into the masses.

                  “Don’t forget to vote for the prom king and queen!” Dasom yells as her small stature disappears. “HINT, VOTE FOR ME!”

                  He sighs and glances warily at Yoongi, who’s dazing at all the lights and action. The older boy reaches for his wrist and says, “oh, I like this song.”

                  Jimin stuffs both of his hands into his pockets. “You like songs?”

                  “Yeah, I’m not an old fart. I’m hip,” he replies, throwing an arm over Jimin’s shoulders. Panicking, Jimin squirms out of his grasp and puts a foot of air in between them. Yoongi finally notices what’s going on and stares at him in concern. “What’s wrong?”

                  “N-Nothing,” he lies. “It’s just hot in here.”

                  “No, it’s not.” Yoongi grabs both of his wrists and pulls him closer. “Are you okay?”

                  “Y-Yoongi,” he gasps, trying to shy away. The hold on his arms won’t release him, and it’s starting to hurt. “I’m fine, just— let go, I don’t want people to see…”

                  The guy furrows his eyebrows, his shoulders stiffening into a daunting stance. “See what, us?” He sounds offended, and if Jimin had to be honest, he had every right to be. “Jimin-ah… Who the hell cares? If people want to look at us, let them—!”

                  “I care!” he cries, glancing at either side of him. “I-I just don’t want them to talk about you… l-like you’re something else. Like you’re not a human being.”

                  Yoongi just glares at him until the music fades away. An MC walks onto the stage behind them and students start swarming around, probably because they’re going to announce who was voted prom royalty. Jimin’s not completely sure since he’s rendered stiff by how angry Yoongi looks.

                  Then the elder leans in, diving towards his two lips. He stops when Jimin quickly turns away, as if it was a natural reflex to reject him of affection; his eyes are shut so tightly, as if he was about to get stabbed. “… Jimin,” he lets out a low growl and lets him go. “Don’t look like you’re so ashamed to be seen with me.”

                  “… That’s—!” Jimin looks frantic. “That’s not—!”

                  “Stay there.” Yoongi says coldly, turning to disappear into the forming crowd.

                  Jimin stands alone at the back, breaking out in cold sweat. He’s pretty sure his heart has already dropped to his stomach. He doesn’t know what to do, and he’s never been more afraid of anxiety itself. A multitude of words repeat themselves in his brain, most of them being derogatory terms he’s heard over the course of the night. The other words are along the lines of ‘escape’ and ‘run’.

                  A soft murmur sweeps the crowd and when Jimin looks up, he realizes that Yoongi’s climbed up onto the stage and has since hijacked the mic. The MC stands behind him, bewildered and confused.

                  He clears his throat and speaks. “First of all, before you announce this year’s lovely king and queen—spoiler alert, this is just another popularity contest—I have something to say.”

                  “Get off the stage, !” somebody shouts. There are uncomfortable stares heading in that direction, but no one completely opposes to it either. No one wants to take sides.

                  “See, that’s what I mean.” Yoongi points at the person. “I’m ing sick of your homophobic slander, and that goes for all of you. I know what you asshats have been saying about me, and frankly I don’t give a . So what if I’m gay? That just means I’m capable of loving, unlike the lot of you.”

                  His confrontation is stirring up conversation in the crowd. Some people are filming with their phones.

                  “But when it comes down to the person I love,” he continues, casually pacing across the stage. “Yes, I call him a person because surprisingly, gays are people too—when the person I love is scared to be seen with me, then that’s it. That’s the end of the ing line.”

                  Jimin stares with wide eyes as Yoongi finds him in the crowd, singling him out in a sea of passive bystanders. He starts to shake as more people turn to look at him. He wants to shrink away, disappear for a decade or so.

                  “I’m Min Yoongi, vice-president of the Photography club and head photographer of the Yearbook committee,” he says after a pause. He glances around the crowd before staring at Jimin again. “I’m part of this year’s graduating class with honors in the arts; a reward I received only because of my exhibition on ‘beautiful things’, which happened to feature my beautiful boyfriend, Park Jimin.”

                  A whole wave of emotions crashes down on him. Suddenly, everyone else phases out of Jimin’s mind and they become the only two people in the room; the only two people that matter. It was just them, who can’t pull away from the other’s gaze, who can’t take their eyes off one another.

                  Yoongi’s voice echoes from the mic to the speakers, and there’s no mistaking what sound rattles the very core of Jimin’s spine. “… You are a damn cute motherer, Jimin-ah, and I don’t think I’ve ever been happy until the moment I was yours. I’ve said it already, but … I love you, and I really hope there’s nothing holding you from loving me back.” He shifts when it looks like the staff are going to come and book him for interrupting prom activities. “Anyway,” he says quickly, shuffling away. “I’d drop this mic but I’m a sensible person who doesn’t damage someone else’s equipment. Later ers, the is out.”

                  Jimin watches him hop off the stage and make a beeline towards the exit without even looking back. He’s a bit too shocked to see straight, his legs threatening to collapse from under him and his eyes flooding with tears. The amount of glancing has exponentially increased, but he decides to ignore it all and runs after Yoongi. As he passes through the doorways, they announce the prom king and Jimin isn’t completely sure if he heard the name ‘Kim Seokjin’ in his emotional fervor.

                  He finds Yoongi in the parking lot, leaning against his car. By now, it’s dusk and there’s hardly another soul to be seen amongst the grid of vehicles. He approaches meekly and tugs on the older boy’s sleeve, still trying to find his words. He still can’t believe that just happened. No amount of dedication would ever propel Jimin to pull off such a stunt, and Yoongi loving him enough to announce it is something he can hardly grasp. “… When—When did you start liking me?”

                  “I’m not sure,” Yoongi replies honestly. His answer is a little too quick for his taste, so he tries again. “I recognized you when we first met, when you bumped into me in September. I remembered you… as the kid whose life I unknowingly destroyed. I broke you with my own two hands. And—And I couldn’t bear the guilt that came with getting to know you.”

                  “You still blame yourself for that?” Jimin crumples a fist. “It wasn’t your fault…”

                  “But it was, wasn’t it?” He sounds bitter than ever, so he turns away and faces the night sky for all it has to offer. “You almost killed yourself because of me. I broke you, Jimin. I felt so damn guilty… So when we met again, I did everything I could to make it up to you, even if you didn’t realize it yourself.”

                  All those times Yoongi’s put up with him, those times he ever bothered to give him the time of day. Those times he’s given him advice and told him to keep his chin up. He’s talking about those moments they shared, when Yoongi was busy fixing something Jimin never knew was broken.

                  “I guess,” the older male continues, “while I was giving you your confidence back, somewhere along the way, I… I gave you my heart, too.”

                  “Yoongi…” Jimin pulls on his sleeve again, forcing him to turn around. He can see the slightest sheen to Yoongi’s brown eyes and it makes him swallow hard to keep composure. “… I-I think it’d do us some good if you remember that you fixed me, too.”

                  He suddenly laughs, probably because of his forthcoming tears. “Yeah, I guess. No harm in destroying pretty things to make them beautiful, right?” He leans in and presses his lips against the fringe of Jimin’s hair, a gesture he only wishes everyone could see right now. “Hey.”

                  Jimin looks up. “Yeah?”

                  “I have a question.”

                  “Mm.”

                  He holds out his hand and bows slightly, the bright grin returning to his face. “Would you care for a dance?”

                  “We—We’re in the parking lot, Yoongi…”

                  “Listen.” The music starts pumping out of the hall again, a soft melody that’s reminiscent of a romantic ballad, probably for the prom queen and king to dance to. The sound is muffled to the point they can hear each other breathing, and there’s the constant noise from street traffic around the block. But it doesn’t matter.

                  Jimin grabs his hand anyway, throwing himself into Yoongi’s chest. Together, they begin to move systematically across the same patches of concrete, waltzing without a care in the world.

--

                  Yoongi parts, reaching into his pocket. “, I almost forgot… Give me your hand?”

                  Jimin blinks, tentatively lifting it up for him. He can still feel Yoongi’s heartbeat on his chest, a feeling that leaves faint imprints on his skin. He becomes a little more dazed when a silver band slides its way down his index finger, until he’s void of breath.

                  “It’s my mom’s ring,” Yoongi starts, making an effort not to smile like an idiot. “I’ve been talking about you a lot with my parents, so they just kind of assumed you were really important to me. To be fair, they’re not wrong.” He lets out a shy laugh. “So they shipped it to me from somewhere in Europe. It’s been with my mom for years, and… it’s yours.”

                  Jimin stares at the ring, at its simple, glistening sterling wrapped around his thin finger; it doesn’t even fit. Regardless, he knows no words can possibly describe what form of joy is erupting in his chest. He blinks back tears and gripes the sleeve of the boy he loves.

                  “There’s uh, an engraving on the inside. It says ‘Ruth 1:16 – 17’, which references a quote from the bible… , how does it go again?” Yoongi frowns, tapping his foot impatiently as he tries to remember. “Hold on, give me a second… . Uh, ‘where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried.” He pauses. “… ‘May the Lord deal with me, be it every so severely, if even death separates you and me.’ Yeah, that’s it.”

                  Jimin sniffles. Being a frail and shy person, he regrets not getting up on stage with Yoongi. He regrets not being able to announce his growing affection for the whole damn world to hear. He regrets not standing by him, choosing to chicken out like he always does.

                  Yoongi was able to express his love in so many ways. Even though some of his approaches were more… brusque than others, the fact that the older boy has the confidence to tell anyone that he is dating Park Jimin is beyond comprehension. He’ll never match up to that amount of love, and the only thing he can possibly do is try.

                  Little by little, step by step, even if it takes forever and a half, Jimin will do anything to let Yoongi know he adores him just as much.

                  Even if that means stopping him mid-sentence, yanking his collar, and letting their lips touch under the serene moonlight. 

I'm sobbing even though I wrote this
It doesn't say anwhere that Yoongi is a Christian, but it's been rumored that he went to an all-boys Catholic school, so ... that's probably the closest we'll ever get : - ) 
some thoughts: I never went to prom myself (I ended up having a girls night out at bowling) so it was... difficult to write about, pmsl. But I don't think ?? I missed out on much, tbh. 
The guy I liked ended up getting dumped by his date, so there's that : - )))