I.

 

stand tall, breathe, hold your head up high, repress, repress - don't think, don't act recklessly, don't speak unless you are spoken to. this is what yoongi remembered being taught, the words always stuck in his brain until he couldn't stand but to take them all in, immerse them within his soul, his character. couldn't help but to live by the mantra, day by day.

(this, yoongi found later on, ended in comfort. what could possibly be wanted by anything else?)

 

II.

 

jimin remembered, as a child, that he was told that he could be whatever he wanted to be in this lifetime. as he grew, as he learned his abc's, as he learned how to tie his own shoes that had the buzz lightyear label laced through them, tattooed on the seams, the one's that jimin absolutely loved, as he finally learned how to read without his mom's voice following his pronuctiations of the bigger sounding words -

he was always told that whatever he wanted to be, he could simply be.

his eyes sparkled, mouth curled into an undefinable grin as hope filled his little body, his five year old imagination running limitless with the thought that anything, anything was possible.

(this, jimin found later on, ended with a crush of reality falling down onto his shoulders, begging him for a retry from what he thought to be true).

 

III.

 

truth be told, yoongi didn't quite believe them at first. he practiced the speech, thought with a quick judgement and a shallow mind that it wouldn't matter anyway; didn't matter as long as he was a good person, didn't matter as long as he kept his desires to himself, didn't matter as long as he didn't bring the attention among himself, didn't matter as long as he just didn't look at him, or at him, or at him.

he soon learned that it didn't work out that way.

it didn't work by repressing, it didn't work by being ignorant to what he was feeling, who he was. and god, yoongi would've given anything to just be himself. he might've been one of the more careless people during school, someone who just didn't try too hard, but he did have feelings too, as unbelievable to some people as that might've been.

(yoongi was six when he had his first actual crush.)

his name was seojun.  he was shorter than yoongi, nice, funny, cheerful, and always talked to yoongi in the mornings before play time started.

as far as yoongi's six year old self was concerned, he had found 'the one'.

seojun seemed to like yoongi back, which is as simple as it seemed to had to be, and when he snuck behind the slide one day during recess to peck yoongi once on the lips, the heat of the summer weather getting in the way of the actual feeling of the near-nonexistant pressure that he'd just unknowingly added on to yoongi's lips and life in the near future, yoongi couldn't say that he was surprised. 

something felt odd about the kiss, but yoongi just put that off as being unused to it, wasn't aware that something different might've come out of it, could've came out of it.

his friend, his hyung, his hoseok then came along seemingly out of no where, holding his hand out for yoongi to take, and that's all that it came down to in order to distract him from the onslaught of whatever it just was that would've caused the six year old a lot of brain power to actually think about, if he sat there long enough.

(when yoongi went home and told his family about the boy with dark brown hair who owned a  cool new book that yoongi had been wanting to get his hands on lately to practice his reading, about how the other was cool and that he liked talking to him, all that yoongi got in response was a stare from both of his parents, an odd request to go up to his room despite not being quite done with his dinner yet, and an hour of listening to his parents argue with each other from where yoongi was sitting - hiding - at the top of the stairs).

(yoongi wasn't very lucky, it turned out).
                                                                 

IV.

 

jimin tried his best to believe, for as long as he could, that everything was whimsical, that everything was made up of fairydust, that there was a land beyond a land beyond a land, and so forth.

tried to believe that there was something out there that was waiting for him, something out there that he had yet to meet to make him feel like he's lived his life to the fullest. that something (or maybe someone, as far as he knew), needed him, who he didn't know yet but would give his whole being to once he did.

he wanted - no, needed - to know that there was a reason to this, to being on this planet, to being where he was. and for getting out of where he was. he just needed to know.

curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.

(jimin was seven when he had his first actual crush).

there was a lot of running, and a few playings of tag across the room when their teacher gave them a few minutes to just goof off and do whatever they wanted to (which didn't happen often, if jimin remembered correctly - mrs. jung was not on his list of top five favorite teachers, he could tell you that much).

his name was joowon, and jimin looked up to him as if he put the stars in the sky, as if he made the planets align.

(when jimin went home and told his family about the boy with the stark black hair and the muddy brown eyes that twinkled, the boy who stood three inches taller than jimin himself, who wore laced converse sneakers that jimin thought were so cool - his parents sent a look at each other over the dinner table, a smile perking up on both of their faces.)

(jimin didn't know it quite yet, but he was lucky).
                                                                                 

V.

 

yoongi was twelve when the feeling of terror shot through his body for the first time, a panicked frenzy of thoughts racing throughout this mind, his breathing became shallow, his heart beat picking up like he had just ran a mile a minute -

yoongi was twelve when he first started experiencing panic attacks.

he swore that he could've changed it, didn't know what brought it upon him in the first place; that whatever the cause was could've gone away, areva durche, good bye, good ridance.

he hadn't wanted to feel that way.

he had only done what they had told him to do.

(in hind sight, that might've been one of the things that caused the panic attacks in the first place. yoongi was never one to jump to conclusions).
                                                                    

VI.

 

jimin was twelve when he had first met the boy down the street.

the other was lanky, his t-shirt pouring over his small frame, his dark hair disshevled at an unhealthy rate, as if he didn't sleep too often (or slept too much) - whichever way, the boy was pale, his eyes seemingly an endless shade of brown, and jimin swore that if he looked too long, for too often, that he'd get lost in them for centuries to come.

jimin learned that the other boy's name was yoongi, after jimin had gotten the nerve up to introduce himself to the older on that same fateful night.
he learned that yoongi had stars illuminated in his mind - even as unfrequently as they were allowed to shine, they were still there - quick to the touch, ready to burst, ready to carry him from one place to another whenever possible.

he learned that yoongi had recently moved to busan from daegu, and that he was two years older than jimin himself.

he learned that yoongi had an older brother that he rarely got along with, and that his parents were seldom around anymore.

he learned that yoongi was a self-entitled (in a good way, sometimes), and that he didn't take from anyone.

he learned that yoongi had a best friend named hoseok that he would do absolutely anything for, and had close friends named namjoon and seokjin that he hadn't gotten to see since he had moved.

he was ungrudgingly his irrevocable self, and jimin admired and respected that.

yoongi's favorite color was white, and he had a gummy smile that jimin absolutely adored.

(jimin soon found, after they had talked for hours underneath the stars, sitting out on the grass in back of jimin's house, that yoongi was his favorite person to have around.)
                                                                   

VII.
 
yoongi once told jimin that he was afraid of heights.

"that's completely usual, a lot of people are afraid of heights," jimin had responded, had kept his hand clasped in between yoongi's as they layed around in yoongi's room on an uneventful saturday afternoon for the both of them.

they had been watching a movie, one of jimin's favorites (to yoongi's vague chagrin), and they were talking about anything and everything that seemed to come to mind.

(yoongi was seventeen, jimin fifteen, and they had been best friends for years).

yoongi then, tentatively, went on to tell jimin that he was afraid of falling, and being, in love.

that caused jimin to pause.

not wanting to push, and knowing that yoongi would tell him when he was ready, jimin waited.

"i had my first crush when i was in kindergarten," yoongi continued, rubbing his thumb over jimin's knuckles, not looking at the younger.

"i used to talk to him everyday, gave him my favorite coloring books, shared my snacks with him, so that he would like me," a soft chuckle followed the statement, and yoongi had looked worriedly and wordlessly up at jimin, gauging his reaction.

the topic of uality had never came up between the two before then, and with the way that other people had responded when yoongi had brought it up to them, he didn't want to chance it.

not with jimin.

he needed to keep jimin around.

and jimin didn't stomp on yoongi's heart, hadn't yet cracked the shell that he worked so hard to keep there. all that the younger did was hold onto yoongi's hand tighter, brought the taller boy closer to his body, as if to say 'it's okay'.

yoongi wasn't panicking. he wasn't short of breath, he wasn't shaking so badly that he couldn't feel his body, hear this thoughts - he felt warm, and safe, and cared for.

"i once thought that if you were nice to someone, and they were nice to you, and you liked them and they liked you back, then that was all that mattered. that that was the key to being with someone, to being together."

and jimin had looked at yoongi like he was obviously correct, that that was how it worked, that that was all that mattered.

"hyung, isn't that how it works?" jimin had finally asked, voice soft and hopeful, and although yoongi already knew that that question was coming, expected it, he still wasn't sure how to respond.

"i once thought that if you were nice to someone, and they were nice to you, and you liked them and they liked you back, then that was all that mattered," yoongi had then repeated, still looking into jimin's eyes, still tracing the back of his hand with his.

"i soon found out that that isn't how that worked. i soon found out then when you like someone and you kiss them behind a slide during recess, even when other's aren't around and it was their request for the kiss in the first place, that when other's find out about it you'll be ridiculed and you'll have panic attacks that you just can't seem to get rid of, stop having. i soon found out that you'll have to move cities in order to feel safe again. i soon found out that your loved ones do not have to love you 'no matter what', or 'unconditionally', and that your parents do not have to accept you for who you are."

(yoongi was seventeen, jimin fifteen, and both of them were slightly broken by the past yet had  been in love with their best friend for years.)
                                                                  

VIII.

 

jimin never did come out to yoongi in the way of words.

instead the dam came out in a hush of touches, a crash of lips upon lips, a promise of 'it'll be okay's', and a request of 'trust me, please', a feeling of diffident love shared between the two of them, laced up within each other on a winter day when nothing seemed relevant other than themselves.

jimin had never tried to repeat any kind of mantra to yoongi, had never tried to keep him from being himself, had never tried to hold him back from anything that he had wanted to do, to be, to achieve.

(yoongi gave permission for jimin to love him, so jimin did.)

IX.

 

yoongi had always been there for jimin, had always nurtured jimin's heart and soul despite yoongi always having a hard time doing so for himself.

he had never told him that anything was possible, but had told jimin that as long as he went after anything that he wanted, needed, needed like the night sky needed the stars, to the best of his abilities, that the likelihood of achieving the thing was much more likely than simply just lusting after it.

and jimin had wanted yoongi, and yoongi had wanted jimin.

yoongi had taken ahold of jimin, cradled his heart in his hands, brushed jimin's rose colored lips against his own once more -

(jimin gave permission for yoongi to love him, so yoongi did.)

X.

 

jimin was nice to yoongi, and yoongi was nice to jimin.

jimin liked yoongi, and yoongi liked jimin.

and although yoongi still struggled within himself, within his feelings that he had for a boy, within what words his parents used to hurtle at him for simply being who he was, within his less frequent occuring panic attacks, he still loved jimin with all of his heart and soul.

and although jimin still struggled with reality, with being restricted into societal standards, he had found his reason for being on this earth, had found someone that had needed him and that he had needed just as much back. he had found his someone, and he still loved yoongi with all of his heart and soul.

jimin was nice to yoongi, and yoongi was nice to jimin.

jimin liked yoongi, and yoongi liked jimin.

and for once, that was all that mattered.