Jimin thinks for a moment that he’s being delusional.  Yoongi doesn’t leave his house, so why on earth would he happen to be here?  Recognition is a gigantic feat for Jimin, and he’s never had to test himself on Yoongi before.

He throws out Yoongi’s name, just to see if he is right.  The person that accompanied Yoongi into the café nudges him forward, and it brings Yoongi that much closer.  He has seen those clothes before, and he doesn’t even need Yoongi to speak in order for him to know.  In fact, the silence only serves to confirm Jimin’s suspicions.

“I see you, Min Yoongi.” Jimin calls out confidently.  He belatedly wonders if it’s the best idea to attract the attention of someone who hates his guts.  It has the potential to go very, very wrong.

Yoongi, however, slowly pulls out the chair across from Jimin’s and takes a seat.  His wordlessness isn’t unusual, but there’s something different about this silence.  Jimin works up the courage to say something else.

“I’m—“ Both he and Yoongi say at the same time, clipping their words short upon the realization that the other is talking.

“You first.” Yoongi offers, beating Jimin to the punch.

Jimin touches the rim of his cup, biting his lip.  He’ll own up to his mistakes and carelessness.  “I’m sorry,” Jimin begins. “I shouldn’t have gone into your studio, and I definitely shouldn’t have read anything.”

It marks the beginning of Jimin’s attempt at closure.  He doesn’t want to leave without Yoongi knowing that he really is sorry.  He violated Yoongi’s trust, and it wound up hurting them both.  Jimin knows that his feelings aren’t as important as attempting to part with Yoongi on mediocre (at best) terms.

Jimin searches Yoongi’s posture, his body language, for any sort of hint as to how his response to Jimin’s belated apology will be.  The tension in Yoongi’s shoulders can be attributed to restraint of contempt or an attempt to keep his nerves rigid.  How much easier Jimin’s life would be if he could see Yoongi’s face.

Just before the moment becomes an eternity of silence, Yoongi sighs, causing the tension in his limbs diffuse ever so slightly.  With the click of his tongue, Yoongi responds concisely, “I accept your apology.”

He doesn’t say anything else.  Jimin doesn’t know whether or not to be happy or disappointed.  The fact that Yoongi accepted his apology means something, whether or not it’s something to be celebrated will require further elaboration.  He almost wants to ask for forgiveness, rather than just an acceptance of his apology.  That’s greedy though.  He knows that he wants forgiveness because he wants Yoongi to assign a positive meaning to their kiss.  His hopes for a relationship demand that Yoongi to give him a paved path and clear directions, whether it’s toward his heart or away from it.  His heart yearns for clarity, in closure or in romance.

Jimin combs his fingers through his hair, waiting for Yoongi to say something, anything.  He had wanted to say something before forcing Jimin to go first.  The apology must have had some impact on whatever he had in mind; it must have required that Yoongi recalibrate his thoughts.  To what end Yoongi must do this, Jimin has no idea.

Jimin looks around the café as a brief distraction, preventing himself from making mountains out of molehills that hadn’t even been made yet.  His brain finally comes around to remembering that he came here to meet with Seokjin.  What a serendipitous turn of events, he thinks.  He hopes, however vainly, that Seokjin won’t interrupt them when he gets to the café.

Yoongi clears his throat, shifting in his seat as he begins to wring his hands.  Yoongi goes through one too many sentence starters, revealing the uneven thought process behind his words.  “I—um, no—we, ah—let, oh—what do I even say?”  He wonders out loud, rubbing his forehead with the tips of his fingers.

“Say what you need to say,” Jimin suggests, even though the back of his mind silently begs for Yoongi to sugar coat everything.  Yoongi’s propensity for bluntness can make his words into tiny bitter pills that Jimin is forced to swallow like a child with their medication.

Yoongi stalls for a moment, choking on his words until one flies loose from his esophagus, “I’m sorry.”

Yoongi again chooses not to elaborate.  The tension almost kills Jimin, crushing his chest.  His mind scrambles for the unoffered explanation as to why Yoongi finds it necessary to apologize.  It comes to the swift conclusion that he’s apologizing for kissing Jimin.  It kills Jimin a smidge because kissing him is the last thing he wants Yoongi to regret.  It might’ve been better if Jimin had just stayed in his delusional little housekeeper land where he obsessed over details that might indicate a mutual attraction.  If they hadn’t kissed, maybe Jimin would still work for Yoongi and see him every single week.

Jimin internally reprimands himself for thinking like that, dwelling as it were.

“I’msorryforyellingatyou.” Yoongi gushes too quickly for Jimin to properly understand the meaning.

“What was that?” Jimin asks, betraying the fact that he had been in a world of his own for a moment or two rather than at the table.

“I’m…” Yoongi swallows thickly, “sorry for yelling at you in the studio that day.”

What?  Jimin had expected something else.  Yoongi’s response to his apology about the notebook incident is an apology about the very same event.

“I don’t understand.” Jimin puts it simply.

Yoongi begins picking at the edge of the table, making a point of not looking at Jimin.  With his hand supporting his neck, Yoongi looks down and speaks quietly, “I didn’t mean to yell at you and overreact and fire you.  I was having a bad day.”

As soon as the words bounce around in his skull, they mean nothing to Jimin.  Well, not nothing. All that he can discern is that Yoongi is not apologizing for kissing him or making him fall in love and dream about becoming boyfriends.

“You had a bad day.”  Jimin echoes back with a flat his voice that makes him seem bitter.

Yoongi sullenly replies, “Yeah.”

“You’re apologizing for…firing me?” Jimin squeaks in confusion, processing his feelings slowly.  He hasn’t even begun to analyze the implications of Yoongi’s apology in terms of their working relationship or potentially their romantic relationship.

Yoongi nods, puffing out his cheeks.  The air of defeat surrounding Yoongi is an odd contrast to the way that Jimin’s heart is suddenly soaring.  Yoongi could probably say that he tolerates Jimin, and he would sob happily.

Jimin still finds it necessary to further clarify because he doesn’t want his heart to burst for no reason.  “Just to double-check, you are not apologizing for making out with me that one time?”

“What?!” Yoongi’s voice shoots up several octaves.  Apparently, he hadn’t been expecting that this would be a conversation topic.  “Do you... do you want me to apologize for that?”

Jimin panics.  The answer is no, but he doesn’t want his feelings to get in the way of something if Yoongi genuinely regrets it.  “Do you want to apologize for that?”

Yoongi forces exhales in annoyance, “Any apology regarding that would be insincere if it were coming from me.”  Yoongi scratches behind his ear, nervously trying to bide the time until Jimin responds.

Jimin processes it and then reprocesses it.  Any apology would be insincere.  Insincere.  Insincere.  If Jimin is doing the math correctly, and he believes he is, then Yoongi might like him.  He regrets firing Jimin, and he is not sorry for smashing their lips together.  One plus one equals two, but are the values actually one and one?

“Are you implying what I think you’re implying?” Jimin asks.

“What do you think I’m implying?”

Jimin scoffs, leaning forward and putting his elbow on the table, “I don’t have time for mind games.  I’m making a lot of inferences here, and I don’t care for uncertainty.  Do you like me?  And yes, I mean like in the romantic sense as a substitute word for love because it’s kind of early to be throwing that word around. “  (Jimin is impressed at how tough and in control he seems.)

“Yes, I’m implying what you think I’m implying.” Yoongi responds quickly.

“You currently like me?  At this very moment.” Jimin needs to be entirely sure.  His brain is urging for confirmation, even if his heart is already having a party all on its own.

“Yes.” Yoongi says in a voice hovering above a whisper.

“Excuse me.” Jimin pushes away from the table and makes a beeline for the bathroom.

He immediately locks the door behind him and proceeds to jump while making little high-pitched noises of delight.  He stomps his feet while fanning himself vigorously with his fingers spread as far as they could go.  He wants to shout from rooftops and maybe break out into song for no apparent reason.  His heart has popped and all of the pent up feelings being dammed up in his soul flood his chest and limbs and appendages. 

Once he has calmed down, he pinches himself on the arm to make sure he isn’t dreaming.  The brief stinging confirms that he’s awake and Yoongi is likes him.  Unrequited love? Not anymore.  He giggles so much that he has to cover his mouth to quiet down.

The giggles might recede, but the smile is going to stay on his face forever.  He takes deep breaths to dampen his delight; he tries to school his face back into a neutral expression, but his lips twitch back into a smile.  All that he can hope as he leaves the bathroom is that his smile seems normal and not overly excited.

Yoongi is still sitting at the table, but his back is to Jimin.  Based on the way his posture has fallen apart, Yoongi seems rather dejected.  Jimin only now realizes that he should have said something in response to Yoongi’s soft declaration.

Jimin quickly settles himself back into his seat as Yoongi looks back up.  Placing his clasped hands on the table, Jimin brings himself back to his baseline level of calmness.  He can heart his heart pounding in his ears.  “I reciprocate the sentiment.”

The sentence sounds so much different from the one he has planned in his head.  A simple “I like you too” would have sufficed, but no, his endorphin flooded brain spits out the most mechanical way of telling Yoongi that his like (Jimin likes to think love) is requited.  He winces at his phrasing because it’s so clunky and he might have blown it.

“I know.” Yoongi murmurs.

“What?”

Yoongi awkwardly clears his throat, “Before—with the whole kissing thing, I got the idea that you liked…me.  Whether or not you still like me is unclear because I kind of mauled you in my recording studio.”

“Yoongi, I still lo—like you.” Jimin blurts, correcting himself before he declares love.  They aren’t even dating.

“Really?” Yoongi perks up visibly.

Jimin is dumbfounded by Yoongi’s shock.  “Why is that so surprising?”

“It’s ju—I—do you want to out on a date?” Yoongi asks, pausing to his lips before specifying, “A date with me. Obviously.”

“Yes.” Jimin responds immediately.  “Yeah.  A date. With you.  I would like that.  You can’t rescind the offer.  It’s out there in the world.  You’re taking me out.”

“Great.” Yoongi says breathlessly.

Jimin remembers once again that he’s here to meet Seokjin.  After checking his watch, he frowns.

“What’s wrong?” Yoongi asks with worry lacing his voice.

“Seokjin was supposed to be here like half an hour ago.” Jimin explains, “I need to claim my final paycheck and sign some legal stuff.  Where is he?”

“Jimin, I’m 210% sure that Seokjin lied to you.  At least about the legal stuff.” Yoongi tentatively grabs one of Jimin’s hands in reassurance.  “He’s a meddler.  So I’ll have to thank him later on for meddling in this particular instance.”

Jimin pauses, chewing on the idea that Seokjin acted as fate’s hand in this particular instance.  He smiles softly, “I’ll have to thank him too.”  

(Yes, he is internally screaming inside because Yoongi is holding his hand.)

___

Seokjin leans back in his chair, peering over the top edge of the complementary newspaper to look at Yoongi and Jimin.  Jimin and Yoongi.  He grins to himself while bringing his travel cup to his lips in order to take another swig of his hot chocolate.

He chortles as he watches his scheme succeed.  He finds himself wanting to tell Namjoon.  Perhaps bragging about his successful meddling won’t portray him in the best light, but lately, the urge to talk about his day with Namjoon consumes him.

Seokjin sighs.  He made his bed, and now he has to lie in it.  Seokjin leaves the coffee shop and heads toward the record store.  How exactly does he broach the subject of Seokjin and Namjoon, Namjoon and Seokjin?  What is he supposed to say? “Remember how I flat out rejected you a few weeks ago? I have changed my mind, well, not really changed per se; I’ve come to realize I’m willing to start a relationship even with my emotional baggage.  Are you willing to carry some of it?  If we end poorly, it might mess me up for good.”

Seokjin stops in front of Namjoon’s store.  He looks in through the glass storefront where he can see Namjoon mopping.  It’s oddly reminiscent of the first time that Seokjin met him, back when his heart was tangled in barbed wire.  If they’ve come full circle, then maybe Seokjin can try to begin anew.  He promises that he’ll understand if Namjoon turns him down.

He beats his fist against his heart to encourage himself before walking in.

Namjoon reacts instinctively to the sound of the bell ringing.  It elicits an automatic, “Welcome.”  The words slip past Namjoon’s lips before he looks up to see Seokjin.  Seokjin’s heartbeat stutters at the sound of his voice, much in the same way that it does when a dimpled smile works its way on Namjoon’s face.

When they make eye contact, he can feel the dislike aimed at him.  It creates an uninvited tension in the air as Namjoon straightens up, hugging the handle of his mop to his body as if the wooden stick will protect him from whatever words Seokjin has for him.

Seokjin’s plan of declaring his feelings in a dramatic fashion fly out of the window as soon as his lips part.  Instead of the whole “let’s carry my baggage together” spiel that he had, Seokjin starts with, “It worked.”

Namjoon responds with a defeated, “What worked?”  He’s tired of hating Seokjin!  That’s progress in Seokjin’s mind.  He just has to pull Namjoon back into the amicable feelings that had once flitted through his veins.

“Min and the housekeeper.  They are practically official.”  Seokjin brags in delight.  Seokjin isn’t exactly humble, and his instincts always betray him when he tries to look good in front of the men he likes.

“So you meddled and got the result that you wanted?” Namjoon replies.

Seokjin nods, and finally finds the courage to talk about what is on his mind, “How am I supposed to meddle when it comes to you?”

Namjoon sets the mop back into his bucket, “What?”  Confusion contorts Namjoon’s face.

Seokjin blows all of the air out of his lungs before continuing, “I mean, how am I supposed to figure out a way to fix our damaged relationship?  I can’t figure out how to meddle my way back into being friends with you.”

“I don’t want to be your friend.” Namjoon restates for the umpteenth time.

Honesty forces Seokjin to shout in frustration, “Well I don’t want to be yours either!”

“Then why do you want to meddle your way back into my life?” Namjoon responds in an equally annoyed tone.

“You’re not going to let me in if I don’t!  I have to be your friend before I can declare any other intentions!”

Namjoon’s voice leeches itself of anger and becomes startlingly soft, “What other intentions?”

“What other intentions?” Seokjin scoffs.  He’s not angry with Namjoon or anything; he just finds it unbelievable that the man who wanted nothing less than a significant other couldn’t pick up on what he was saying. 

“I have always liked you.  I don’t flirt with just anyone.”  Seokjin begins, “Yes, when we first kissed, I thought that I was stuck on someone.  But, you know how it goes, I stopped thinking about him and how he hurt me, and I started thinking about you.  I don’t even know how to begin addressing my trust issues and my baggage, and I thought it would be overwhelming.  You can’t just drop all of that on someone you’ve been crushing on without forewarning and expect him to handle it well.”

Seokjin ends his rant panting.  He forgot to take breaths between sentences.

“You like me?” Namjoon asks, ignoring the whole explanation.

“At this point, ‘like’ is an understatement of my current affections.” Seokjin replies firmly.  (He’s trying to be honest, as honest as Yoongi would be in this situation.)

Namjoon rounds the bins of records between them, “Then you love me?”

As Namjoon stops a foot away from Seokjin, his heart speeds up.  It’s been a while since Namjoon initiated this kind of proximity, maybe the first time since the deterioration of their friendship.  Seokjin swallows his nerves, “That would be an accurate representation of my feelings toward you.”

“Are you going to ask me?” Namjoon whispers, “How I feel about you?”

“I’m afraid that the answer will be something that I’d rather not hear.” He confesses quietly.

“Then I won’t tell you.” Namjoon murmurs before leaning forward and brushing his lips against Seokjin’s.  The briefest moment of their lips pressed together prompts Seokjin to take a step to close the distance between them.  Seokjin’s eyes flutter to a close as Namjoon’s hand comes up to cup his cheek gently.  The kiss is soft and intimate and slow and agonizingly beautiful, but it ends too soon.

“I lied.” Namjoon breathes, “I’m going to tell you how I feel. Right now, and probably quite often in the future.  Kim Seokjin, I’m in love with you.”

a/n: please forgive me and my late night writing/editing.
i'm glad decided to write namjin.... (so maybe 1~2 chapters + an epilogue to go... stay prepared).
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(i'll edit later?)