Min Yoongi

Slytherin (Year 7)

Min Yoongi is not very happy with his life. His friends are spending more time focused on school, dating and their actual lives, and Yoongi thinks that it’s stupid. As a seventh-year, he’s just glad that he passed all of his OWLS and NEWTS. The only problems in his stress-free six month plan for the remaining semester? His failing grade in Herbology.

“Mr. Min, please understand,” Professor McGonogall pleaded, groaning. Her head was cradled in her hands, Yoongi’s school record splayed out on her desk in front of her. “You need more credits in order to graduate. You can’t retake Herbology, because all the classes are full.”

“I believe I have a solution,” Professor Zabini, the new head professor of Slytherin, said from his spot next to Yoongi. They were in a meeting to discuss Yoongi’s eminent failure. “Madam Hooch mentioned that with the large amount of first-years, she wants help with the Flying 101 lessons. Yoongi here is a great Chaser and handles a broom well, if he’s motivated.”

Yoongi just shrugged. His apparent skill hadn’t been enough to get Slytherin to the House Cup, even with his best friend Namjoon. Gryffindor, with the extremely competitive (only in Quidditch) Seokjin and their new newbie seeker Jungkook had slaughtered his team, ending his dreams of winning the Cup.

“If he teaches one of the classes, that’ll be enough to get the necessary credits, right?” Professor Zabini asked, leaning back and crossing his arms.

McGonagall sighed and readjusted her stiff hair, “I suppose. However, Mr. Min, my trust levels with you aren’t very high, and you will not be teaching this class alone. Madam Hooch already had a different teacher in mind, but she is a generous woman and will allow you two to co-teach.” She dipped her quill in ink and scrawled something on Yoongi’s papers, “That is all. You are dismissed. Your class schedule will be delivered to you tomorrow at breakfast with the morning post.” Professor Zabini got up and dragged Yoongi out with him.

“You’re lucky,” Zabini said, smirking slightly, “She’s gotten nicer, hope you know that.”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard,” Yoongi replied. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Get to class, idiot,” Zabini slapped the back of Yoongi’s head and left him standing in the hall like an idiot.

“DUCK!” A loud scream shook Yoongi out of his musing.  “HEADS UP!” Yoongi looked up to see a blur of black robes, a Hufflepuff scarf and puffy brown hair on a broom zooming down the hall towards him. Before the boy on the broom could crash into him, he managed to duck as the other guy braked.

“What the ing hell are you doing?” Yoongi spluttered out once he’d gotten back up. The broom guy had gotten of his broom and was dusting himself off.

He was about an inch or two shorter than Yoongi, with sparkling brown eyes, a cheerful expression and brown hair. The guy rearranged his Hufflepuff scarf as he smiled sheepishly at Yoongi, making his eyes form crescent moons.

“Sorry about that!” The guy said cheerfully, “If you weren’t hurt, then I’ll be on my way!” He got back onto his broom and sped off, leaving Yoongi to stare open-mouthed at him, completely baffled.

~~--~~--

Park Jimin

Hufflepuff (Year 5)

Park Jimin stared at the class of first years nervously. His co-teacher for the Flying 101 Lessons hadn’t showed up yet, and while he knew what he was supposed to be explaining, he didn’t feel as excited as he had that morning.

“U-uhm, good morning,” Jimin said, taking a deep breath. Focus, Chim Chim. You got this. “My name is Park Jimin, and I’ll be one of your teachers for this semester. Now, obviously, you’ll be learning how to fly a broom.” He scanned the group of students. “How many of you have either seen someone fly or been on a broom?” About 3/4ths of the group raised their hand, “Ok, that’s good. We’re going to go over to the storage room, and everyone will get a school-issued broom.”

Once that was done, Jimin opened his mouth to start explaining how to lift the broom.

“Sorry I’m late,” A low drawl said from behind him, right into Jimin’s ear. Jimin swore he jumped about fifteen feet into the air, startled. “I slept too long.” Jimin whirled around to face a familiar face.

“You!”

“You!”

Jimin blanched at the other guy’s face. It was the guy he’d almost run over with his broom in the hall the time Taehyung made him race around the castle. “O-oh! I’m so, so sorry about what happened! I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’m so incredibly sorry!” He exclaimed, bowing the full 90 degrees, “Please forgive me!”

“Chill,” The guy said, his rough voice sending shivers down Jimin’s spine. He turned his attention to the class, “The name’s Min Yoongi. Anyone calls me that and they won’t be speaking again. People just call me Suga.” I want a cool nickname, not some lameass name like Chim Chim, Jimin thought to himself.

“A-alright,” Jimin stuttered slightly, but composed himself, “I was explaining how to pick up your broomstick.”

It turned out that Min Yoongi made Jimin very nervous. After the first lesson, Jimin formally introduced himself and apologized again for the incident. Suga just smirked and told him to call him hyung.

Once Jimin learned who Yoongi was, he saw him everywhere. In the Great Hall for meals, in the halls in between classes, even at a Gryffindor party. Yoongi was sitting with Hoseok, Namjoon (a really nice 7^th year who helped Jimin with his Potions homework) and Seokjin, who didn’t seem like the type of person to hang out with Yoongi.

“Yah, Jimin!” Hoseok, or J-Hope as he was insisting, “Come over here!” Jimin was at the party with his best friends Taehyung and Jungkook. The three made their way over to J-Hope’s table, were the four sat. Yoongi lazed in his chair, slouched, clad in a plain black t-shirt, ripped jeans and a Slytherin beanie. “I was just telling them about how good of a dancer you are!” Jimin blushed and grinned widely at the compliment.

“Nah, Jungkook’s the dancer,” Jimin shook his head, “I’m just his backup.” He laughed, ruffling his hair up. His eyes drifted over to Yoongi, and gulped. Yoongi was looking directly at him, smirking slightly.

“Show us your moves,” Namjoon encouraged, “We’re not judgmental people. Or, mostly. Suga? More so.”

Jungkook and Jimin traded a grin (Jimin’s about 100 watts brighter than Jungkook’s, but that was to be expected). When the next song played, the two made their way to the small dance floor. It was one of Namjoon and J-Hope’s tracks, along with some guy that Jimin forgot, called Cypher II. He really liked the song, and the two had danced to it before.

With the opening notes, the two started moving in sync, not leaving their motions until the song ended.

Min Yoongi

Yoongi was impressed. J-Hope was a good dancer, but this little 5^th year didn’t seem like a particularly dancy person. In the month that Yoongi and Jimin had taught their class together, Yoongi learned that Jimin was clumsy, always smiling and way too optimistic for Yoongi’s taste. What he didn’t expect was for the admittedly muscular guy to be out on the dance floor, ing his hips, biting his lips and lifting his shirt, letting the girls (and guys) glimpse his rock hard abs.

Quite possibly the hottest most interesting part of Jimin’s dance was him dancing to Yoongi’s rap. The moves were sharp precise, exactly like Yoongi wanted his voice to sound. Jimin, the awkward Hufflepuff who almost killed him, was being seductive in a way that shouldn’t have been possible for a guy like him.

When the song ended, Jimin and his chipmunk friend came back over to Yoongi’s table. The two were out of breath, sweat pouring down their faces, making Yoongi’s eyes and mind go certain places.

When Yoongi finally went to sleep that night, his dreams filled with abs and plump lips between pearly white teeth.

“Morning freshies, anyone hungover?” Yoongi said as soon as the first years got to the Quidditch pitch with their brooms. He was in an unreasonably good mood that day and took it out on the first years and anyone who crossed his path. “Oh, who am I kidding? You all are ing lame, you’d never party. ing noobs.”

Jimin was sitting in the middle of the pitch on the grass, snapback pulled over his newly dyed black hair. Once Yoongi gave the brats their assignment for the day, he looked at the younger for a moment.

All that entered his mind was images of the ing brat dancing. Yoongi swore under his breath and joined Jimin on the grass. Jimin looked up, squinting even more than usual to see Yoongi, the sunlight glaring into his eyes.

Jimin gave a shriek of pain, the sunlight burning his eyes, and doubled over into the grass.

“HYUNG! MY EYES! THEY HURT!” He wailed, rolling around on the grass. Yoongi had gotten used to this kind of stupid behavior, partially from spending so much unwilling time with Jimin and partially from being friends with J-Hope the Idiot.

“Jimin, shut up,” Yoongi said, lying down on the grass stomach-down, the grass tickling his nose as he laid his chin on the ground. Jimin followed suit, placing his head less than a foot away from Yoongi’s. He’d never admit it, but the close proximity made Yoongi’s heart speed up slightly, a fact that both excited and scared him.

Jimin laid there, smiling widely with his eyes closed (they might have been open, who knows?). Yoongi watched in amusement as the younger soaked up the sun, the occasional padded Bludger hitting him in the extremely y and toned . The first years seemed to be obsessed with Jimin’s , especially the particularly sassy Byun Baekhyun.

As Jimin napped, Yoongi’s eyes strayed to the Bludger’s object of affection. Jimin did have a nice , a nice entire body, in fact. Yoongi’s mind wandered south, and he mused what Jimin would be like in bed, lying underneath him—

“HYUNG!” Jimin shouted, startling him out of his fantasy thoughts. “The first years left; I’m gonna go change into my robes.” He got up, leaving Yoongi sprawled on the grass. Yoongi just nodded in agreement and laid there for a little while longer.

Finally, he collected the willpower to get up and change as well. As he was making his way to the boys locker room, he heard two people talking—Jimin and his chipmunk friend, Jungkook.

“Kookie-ah, I don’t think I can put up with this!’ Yoongi heard Jimin whine. “He’s too much!”

“Dude, you need a boyfriend.”

“No, I need Yoongi-hyung to be my boyfriend,” Jimin sighed dramatically, and Yoongi froze. Once he’d gotten over the initial shock, a smirk spread slowly over his face. This was golden.

“How long have you been crushing on him, anyway?” Jungkook asked, “And would you hurry up? I wanna go see Taehyung.”

“Go find your ing boyfriend,” Jimin laughed good naturedly, “Don’t worry, I probably won’t die.” Yoongi waited he heard the door close, letting him know that Jungkook had left the locker room.

“So, you’ve got a crush on me?”

Park Jimin

There are a lot of things that Jimin doesn’t like about himself. One of those things is his inability to shut the up, especially when it comes to cool, calm and collected people like Yoongi. There’s something in Jimin’s genes that makes him confident, and so far it’s gotten him three broken bones and a smashed wand.

So of course, the ever stupid Jimin responds to Yoongi’s (totally mortifying, did he overhear the entire conversation about Yoongi’s hella attractive body and y accent?) question with a “Yeah, but I know I’m not the only one here with feelings.”,

Yoongi responds with another smirk and takes three steps closer, which of course, Jimin counters by striding across the room.

“I’ve seen you staring at my , hyung.”

“And I’ve seen you bite your lips at mine, babe.”

“Well then, why are we just standing here?”

“I dunno, good question,” With a smirk and a hard yank to Jimin’s Hufflepuff tie, Yoongi pressed his lips to the other’s. Jimin smiled into the kiss, and through Yoongi’s fluttering lashes he could see Jimin’s eyes smiling wider than he’d ever seen them before.

When the two finally parted for air, they just stared at the other, not sure of what to say. Without even realizing it, Jimin’s tongue darted out to wet his lower lip, and he brought between his lips. Yoongi gulped hardly.

“ it,” He growled and smashed his lips against the other’s again.