He was a bad boy, not yet fully grown up but already taking advantage of the years he was offered by heaven. Jimin wasn’t even close to sane, when he grabs one of the liquor bottles and gulps half of it before showering with the left of it. His clothes would be soaked but he would continue to bounce in the middle of the crowd, only a pair of eyes would follow the glimpse of craziness that could end his life any moment. Jimin would go far enough to mix two drinks together, at the end of the bar a pair of lips would frown in hopelessness. “Are you trying to kill yourself?” Jimin would be on top of a table, and the other minute he would be smirking so lavishly when a guy approaches. In between the crowd Yoongi would watch him dancing with different guys every night they throw a party, or visit a club for fun.

At parties, Jimin would be safe, because Yoongi’s eyes would be his guards. His hands were the weapons to protect him unless he gets himself into room with a guy or two. Yoongi has no right to do anything. He would stand up just inches away from the door, making sure the boy would be left with pleasure only till he leaves the room safely. At parties, Jimin wouldn’t care about being carried home when sleep knocks him over; because Yoongi’s shoulders were his pillows to his way home. If Jimin would drunk-walk his way to his house Yoongi would walk behind, making sure the boy arrives to the front door unharmed. He would stop when Jimin does, sometimes, the boy would turn aside to throw up, or rest his legs from his drunken walk. Some nights the boy would sense someone behind, he would stop to look around for a shadow after Yoongi hides.

He was always the quiet one, at the group of his friends that still invites him to their noisy parties. Yoongi would be happy, by just seeing a smile on Jimin’s face. He decided to be a guard, that will keep him unharmed at night if he can’t be with him between the crowd. Yoongi decided that instead of holding his hand when he’s sober, he would hold him tight when he’s drunk. Only the moonlight and the flickering lights of streets would light their road in the middle of the night that would smell like nothing but whisky and hangover the next day.

Yoongi would return home feeling his heart clenching on itself, every image of Jimin repeating in his mind, from the start of the night; till the sunrise that will reach its limit along Yoongi’s fists around the sheets. Yoongi would remember how Jimin danced like crazy with a bottle of liquor, how he let himself be touched by many hands of strangers; and how he stripped down to sell his heavenly skin for free. Yoongi would worship his skin, if Jimin was his, Yoongi would protect him against the moon and its light, against the coldness of waters that he would wash him with; like the goddess he is. Yoongi would kiss his hand like a queen, and protect him like his own precious diamond. Yoongi would forget about the stars in the sky, because once he has Jimin he would have the brightest star out there.

“Yoongi?” The boy snapped his head up, from the papers he was highlighting few words on, before his heart skips a great beat at the sight. “Do you usually come here?” Yoongi swallowed a lump in his throat. “I have my coffee here when i don’t have any morning classes.” It was Jimin, he smirked like it was one of the hottest things ever. And Yoongi can relate; when it comes to Jimin and how he works those hips of his it would be a scenery of ography. The way the boy controls those slim yet sinfully-talented hips was amazing, the way he bites those plump lips and him after taking a long shot of some strong liquor, it always makes Yoongi feel so uneasy; on the lowest part of his waist. “You look so different with those specs.” He reached over, Jimin’s hands took the specs with the thick black frames from his face, gently caressing it without being oblivious to Yoongi’s intense stares to his face.

“I never noticed you wearing those.” Because you can’t see me, Yoongi thought, I love to hide myself like a kid afraid of the monsters under his bed, and my feelings were the blanket. “You look handsome with them on, anyway.” Yoongi never loved these glasses, but once Jimin placed them back on his face he starts to tend to keep them safe. Yoongi left the cafe only to see him smoking, like the bad boy that he loves to be. Yoongi thought his lips would be a good replace with those ugly cigarettes that he loves he pull them on even at noisy clubs.

He found himself in one once again, when Taehyung decided to bring them over at the closest club to their college in the middle of exams. Yoongi would find a bottle of jack on the counter, and a dancing Jimin inches afar. He pretended he was watching the people dancing, when he noticed Jimin’s stares turn right to him only for Jimin to come closer and pull his cold hand to the dance floor that was about to break. “Why are you sitting alone over there?” It was more like a shout, the club was noisy; they could barely hear each other. “I was getting some shots.” Jimin’s eyes never left his lips, before finally landing on his eyes. Jimin was serious about this enough to wrap his arms around his neck, and beg him to dance through his way. Yoongi didn’t really refuse, his hips started moving and his body moving along with the music. He got enough shots to make his heart pound through excitement. The music was very loud, and Jimin was so close it made him sick with nervousness. “You’re so good at this.” The crowd was crazy, they all danced non-stop and he was just a one bad dancer.

He had no confidence, but seeing Jimin encouraging him through smirks; shouted praises and slight touches to his hips made him jump with enthusiasm. He was dancing with Jimin after all, he might be dancing for the last time; or it might be a start of something even crazier.

His blood was rushing up through his veins, and his muscles got sweaty within ten minutes. Jimin would turn around to dance against him, grinding slowly like a professional when the beat drops. The pants were so tight, and his hips were perfectly created; Yoongi thought god must love him that’s why he created him like a goddess. After half an hour of dancing, his legs felt jelly. Yoongi felt his head light and dizzy and fingers shaking with instability of mind. Jimin noticed and pulled him out with a smile Yoongi never saw. Yoongi’s chest raised and fell, while his vision barely showing anything. Jimin kept pulling him somewhere he couldn’t see, laid him on an comfortable mattress in an almost quiet place. “Are you okay?” He heard his voice, soft and calming like a morning breeze in a spring day. “I’m fine.” Yoongi took a deep breath, he brought his hands to rub his eyes and his face. “Probably a sudden rise for your blood pressure, you never did this?” A hum that he released as a response, before he feels weight on top of him. Jimin took his shirt off. His shoes and stayed in his loose pants that he almost took off. He took Yoongi’s specs, placing them aside as his thumbs just softly caresses Yoongi’s red lips. He wasn’t shy, Jimin was never shy enough to presses his lips against them, slow and gentle he was attempting to kiss him.

Lips that tasted way more than Yoongi imagined. They tasted like liquor, sugar in fresh peaches that Yoongi never had. His lips felt weak, they started to shake before Jimin pulls away to reassure him with his eyes that resembled the stars in the night sky. “I know everything you’ve done to me,” His finger was small, like his built, it went from Yoongi’s lips to his adam’s apple “Escorting me home, carrying me on your shoulder, making sure i arrive home safe.” from his neck to his collarbone that he made , to his chest before taking his shirt off. “What do you mean?” Playing dumb might not be the best thing Yoongi tried to do, Jimin chuckled before he places his legs on both of Yoongi’s sides. “I pretended to be drunk on some nights, to see who is the person that brings me home every time.” Jimin murmured, bringing both of Yoongi’s hands to his thighs. “I pretended to be in one of the rooms with some men, to see who would stand out and make sure i won’t get forced into doing it.” He put his hands over them, slowly bringing them up and down. “It was all you, Yoongi, nobody but you.. and i will forever be grateful for you; that’s why i’m offering myself to be yours tonight.”

It sounded like a miracle, something that would only happen in myth stories that he used to read every weekend. But when he realized that Jimin thought he craved him like an animal, Yoongi pushed his hands away, against the cheap sheets of the bed that was placed just for ual desires of the club visitors. “I didn’t do all of that for you to offer me your body as a thank you gift, it was never for your body.” Yoongi swore he saw Jimin chasing him out of the room, calling his name with a begging “Wait!” that he ignored. He took the nearest taxi instead of walking home, the club wasn’t that far after all. He just didn’t want to hear Jimin’s voice behind him at all.

He couldn’t really sleep, that night, gulped plenty of coffee mugs empty. His eyes didn’t shed a tear, but his mind couldn’t come to rest either. To realize that he was only thought of as a hungry animal, chasing after his prey till the prey itself decided to offer their whole, Yoongi was the most insomniac that night. Jimin didn’t come knocking against his door, and worse; he forgot his glasses. Well he can survive on lenses until he would be able to buy new ones. Monday, most of his friends would skip classes since they would suffer from a hangover. But he decided to attend; with his sleep deprived state he could only write few notes and write a response of a messy X letter to the thoughts in his mind. He stayed in the library, it’s the only place Jimin doesn’t visit. Until it got to Nine o’clock, he left the college to go back home. The day has been noisy, in his mind, thoughts were battling against each other with a repeating scale of Jimin’s name. He found him sitting on the floor, in front of the door to his apartment. The shorter stood up quickly upon seeing him, his lips slowly forming a smile that Yoongi frowned at. “What do you want?” He took out his keys, ready to open the door before Jimin murmurs. “You forgot them.” He has Yoongi’s glasses in his hand, and Yoongi hated seeing them the most. He pushed them inside of his pocket before opening the door, “Wait, please.” Jimin was desperate, from the hold he gave to Yoongi’s shirt and the boy didn’t move. His back still has Jimin facing it, and his palms itched with pain that would shoot him with the sharpest arrow that it has.

Everytime Yoongi remembers that he was offered a body, a night to fulfill the needs that he was mistaken for; his fists clench. His toes would press against each other like the awkward boy that he was born to be. He doesn’t want Jimin to hate him, nor mistaken him for something that he never meant to be. He just wants to lock himself inside of his apartment and counts the days of his depression.

“I might have put it in the wrong words, but..” His arms, were tiny, tight they held Yoongi and prevent him from leaving one more step. “It was never about my body.” Jimin forgot to mention that Yoongi looked ten times more handsome without glasses, he thought now he can kiss him as much as he wants; rather than having to take them off everytime. Jimin noticed how tired Yoongi looks, how sleep deprived he really is and thought it’s a good night for their first cuddle.