"Yoongi? You still sentient there?" Hoseok teases, waving a hand in front of his friend's face and quirking an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah," Yoongi replies, taking a bite of pasta and waiting for his friend to continue his story.

But he doesn't; the younger boy just picks up another bite of his food, shaking his head. "You know, you've been really distant lately. It's kinda like I'm hanging out with a robot. Are you sure you're alright?" he tries before popping the bite in his mouth.

"Yes, I'm fine," Yoongi repeats, starting to become aware of himself. He sits up straighter in his seat, and conjures up a curious expression to replace the dull one on his face.

It doesn't fool Hoseok, though, and he hesitates briefly. There's been too many exchanges between them like this, and he wants to put an end to them. But after a few moments, he decides it's better to let it go for now, (they are in public, after all) and just begins to tell his story again.

Yoongi studies his eyelashes fluttering with blinks as he speaks, his mind absent in contrast to the facial expressions he's feigning, and it takes him a minute to fully realize that he's completely tuned out of what his friend is actually saying again. He quickly shakes away his thoughts so he can focus.

"...and he told me to leave. Like, really? You don't even feel a bit of gratitude when I clean up your messes and deal with you having loud, like, seven in the morning with your y girlfriend? Anyways...yeah. Lucky for me, I live with you now instead," Hoseok finishes, flashing him a smile, and Yoongi just returns it as best he can.

"Yeah, I'm glad. He sounds like a ," he remarks quietly, scooting forwards in the red booth.

The fact constantly lingers in his mind that they're back at that same Italian restaurant, and he's not told Hoseok the real reason why.

But he thinks that that might be a good thing; Hoseok seems worried about him. In fact, he's seemed worried ever since he moved in.

After all, him and Yoongi have been friends for such a long time, so he knows well that Yoongi has never been one to stay upset about things.

There is clearly something very special about Jimin to him.

"So, have you written any music lately?" Hoseok asks him, his own tone surprising him as he glances out a window at the sunset behind the towering silhouettes of buildings.

A moment of awkwardness follows. That's not how he intended to ask that question, but regardless, there's something more lying underneath the simple words.

I've seen you give up on things when you were really sad before. Like basketball, back when we were little and your parents split up. But not this. Don't give up on this.

Yoongi swallows thickly, shaking his head and pretending not to notice. "Not lately. I don't know what to write about," he tells him nonchalantly, shrugging.

"Oh, that's dumb. There's lots of stuff to write about," Hoseok persists brightly. "Like, I don't know, social problems you care about. Your friends," he suggests, giving a playful eyebrow wiggle at the end. Yoongi chuckles, taking another sip of his drink.

"Or maybe..." the younger begins to add, voice turning kind of solemn. "Maybe there's something in here that's trapped, and needs a place to go," he says, reaching forward to brush his fingers briefly against Yoongi's chest, where his heart beats beneath.

They make eye contact, Hoseok's look knowing and sympathetic. But Yoongi doesn't need to write about Jimin. He doesn't care. He doesn't care at all.

"You're cheesy," he remarks back calmly, and funnily enough it seems like the most him thing that he's said since Hoseok moved in with him.

The younger boy chuckles. "Yeah, I may be. But you gotta admit I have a point," he replies.

Yoongi is about to tell him he's wrong, that he really doesn't care, but apparently the universe decides it should be a and show him how much of a lie that is before he can even tell it.

Because as fate would have it, a blonde young man with apple cheeks and plush lips is led past their table at that very moment by a brunette girl that almost comedically towers over him.

They actually look at each other, for the first time in two months, and it stirs something in Yoongi that's unfamiliar. It hurts.

Jimin's stare is unreadable other than the surprised widening of his eyes because how funny; we would both be here, wouldn't we?

All Yoongi really knows is that longing tugs on his heartstrings, but a small happiness is still there because Jimin looks much better. A healthier weight, his dark circles long gone.

He's happy, and still, though it makes him feel selfish, Yoongi feels his throat tighten because he knows he could never give that to him. In fact, he'd caused just the opposite.

Hoseok bites his bottom lip hard as Jimin passes, staring intently at the tabletop as if to wish Yoongi's ex-lover away.

Yoongi just takes a long sip of his drink, lingering on the end of the plastic straw and scratching the condensation on the glass with his index finger. He tries his very best to seem unbothered, but a gloom rains over the scene, one that he'd hoped had finally begun to subside.

It takes a good while for things to even somewhat return to normal, and even then, everything feels disrupted and rushed. Yoongi wants to get out of there.

*****

They walk together through the apartment door with an uneasy feeling in their lungs, one that feels unsettlingly like water. Yoongi scratches at his ribcage, grumbling something incoherent about how cold in is in here and toying with the thermostat.

"Did you want to talk to him?" Hoseok murmurs carefully once they've taken their shoes off and come into the living room together.

Yoongi shrugs indifferently. "I don't know."

"He's gained weight," the younger comments.

Yoongi hums in acknowledgement, nodding. "I'm glad."

"Me too."

There is a part of Yoongi that just wants to hide again, and he thinks that part of him is most likely what begins to carry his feet towards his bedroom.

But that's when he hears a soft, "Wait."

He turns around to face Hoseok, who's looking at him with an expression that's barely readable in the dim light. For a second, he seems a little unsure of himself, but in the end he finds it in him to say, "Stay. We can do what we always used to. When we were kids, you know?"

Yoongi's face gradually sinks into confusion, and he doesn't move from his spot. "We did a lot of things," he points out bluntly.

Hoseok takes a second to process the response, and when he does, a goofy smile curls his lips, and he subtly rolls his eyes. "C'mere. I have movies we can watch together."

"Does that mean there's ice cream too?" Yoongi asks, raising one eyebrow and disregarding the name-calling. It had always been their tradition when they were at Hoseok's place, much to Yoongi's parents' dismay. They barely even kept sugar in the house before their divorce. They didn't like Yoongi to have it.

"Yep. Picked up some vanilla yesterday," Hoseok tells him, grinning.

"I'm in," Yoongi affirms at that, walking (confidently now) to the couch and flopping back onto the black cushions with satisfaction bubbling in a small, pleased smirk.

Hoseok stares at him, tapping his foot on the ground as if he's waiting for something.

But Yoongi just returns the same stare cluelessly. "What?" he deadpans after a while, furrowing his eyebrows and pressing his lips together as if he's trying to win a glaring contest between him and his best friend.

"A 'thank you' would be nice, dear," Hoseok sighs, turning around and making his way into the kitchen.

"Well, nachos gracias, or whatever."

A grin creeps onto his face as he hears his friend laugh loudly from the other room. "Didn't you take, like, three years of Spanish in high school?" Hoseok calls amusedly.

"Yep."

The younger boy chuckles again. "That's the Yoongi I know," he returns.

It's a shame that Hoseok is not in the room to see, because he would have noticed the way Yoongi's eyes glow brighter than they have in a while. It feels good, and it's the first moment that the older boy realizes how genuinely glad he is that Hoseok is there for him.

It's not long before the cheerful boy comes back in again, and when he does, he's holding two plastic bowls filled with vanilla ice cream, decorated in rainbow sprinkles.

"You sure know how to please a man," Yoongi remarks in approval, reaching his pale hands out to grab one of the bowls.

Hoseok snorts, setting his ice cream down on the coffee table before trotting over to the tv to pop in a movie. "Usually, that comment's not made about ice cream," he jokes.

Yoongi clicks his tongue in response, shaking his head though the younger has his back to him. "Your dirty mind appalls me. I am a child of god," he deadpans.

"Whatever you say," his friend chuckles in reply as he pads back over to the couch, picking up a remote and pressing a red button at the top so the screen blinks on.

And although February has long passed, the menu screen for Groundhog Day is waiting for them when Hoseok sits himself back down. Yoongi grins mid-bite of his ice cream.

"You know me so well," he mumbles with his mouth still very full.

Hoseok cringes at the gross sounds it makes. "You're disgusting," he bemoans, pushing lightly at a chuckling Yoongi's shoulder, "But yes, I do." He then presses play, and the movie begins.

As the introduction rolls through, he leans over, snuggling comfortably into Yoongi's side and resting his head on his shoulder. Yoongi relaxes into the warmth, and just like they always did when they watched movies together all that time ago, they become a big tangled up mess.

When the movie does come to an end, Hoseok squeals in excitement as always; he just loves the ending. Yoongi smiles at him.

"I love that movie. When was the first time we watched it?" Hoseok asks him happily, still full of energy.

But although Yoongi seems pleasant, he doesn't seem quite as enthusiastic. He just shrugs, stretching out his limbs and yawning widely. He then mumbles something about being tired as he gives Hoseok a last side hug, who returns it tightly.

He rises up off of the couch and onto his feet, starting to lug himself to his bedroom, the sounds of Hoseok cleaning things up echoing behind him.

When he does come into his room, he all but throws himself on the bed, without changing out of his clothes or even getting underneath the covers. He quickly starts to drift off, feeling oddly comfortable in his skinny jeans and button up shirt, when something stops him.

There's something he wanted to do. That he still wants to do.

With a bite of his lip and droopy eyes, he pulls his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and opening his message app as he squints from the sudden bright light.

yoongi: sleep well

And then, pretty much the very moment he slides his phone back onto his nightstand and rolls back over into bed, he sinks into sleep, curling up to warm himself in the chilly room.

He is already dreaming away peacefully when his screen lights up, glowing onto the ceiling with a notification.

jimin: you too :)

*****

What he's not expecting as he drowsily changes clothes the next morning (with a long rub of his eyes and a yawn loud enough to make Hoseok ask if he's alright as he passes by his bedroom) is an additional text from Jimin. In fact, he's not even sure whether or not he expected a reply in the first place.

So when he gets it, regardless of its simplicity, he stares at his screen with scrutiny, eyebrows knitted together, trying to make sure he hasn't read it incorrectly, or isn't just imagining it altogether.

jimin: hey, do you want to get coffee with me after I leave work today? at the little Starbucks like two blocks away from your place

He tilts his head to the side like a confused puppy as he considers every aspect of the message, trying his best to ignore the use of your place. Now that he thinks about it, Jimin had told him a couple months ago that he'd like them to be friends despite everything. It is kind of an odd suggestion though: to go get late afternoon coffee, although they haven't even spoken in so long.

For a second he just supposes Jimin is just being quirky and cute like usual, but then it becomes a little more odd when he remembers how late the younger boy usually returned from work when they'd been dating.

yoongi: when will you be off?
jimin: I'll be done by like 4 today, so I was thinking around 4:30
yoongi: oh ok

He thinks about it for a while. Would it really be a good idea for him? To get involved in his life again? He knows that's where this is going; he isn't a fool.

He bites his lip, his thumbs hovering over his screen.

yoongi: oh I just remembered, I have somethi
yoongi: oh I just remembered, I h|
yoongi: oh I just remembe|
yoongi: oh I jus|
yoongi: o|

yoongi: I'm busy later, but maybe some other time
yoongi: I'm busy later, but maybe some o|
yoongi: I'm busy later, b|
yoongi: I'm bu|
yoongi: I'|

yoongi: yeah sure, I'll see you then

*****

He sits, studying the different strangers that walk in and out the door, some of them by themselves, some with others. He's alone, and has been for a little while now. But that's okay; he'd showed up a little bit early. He doesn't expect Jimin to do the same.

He drums his fingers on the table out of habit, glancing around him. He shouldn't have come so early, actually, but he hadn't been really paying attention to what he was doing, so it's his fault.

After a while, though, he does begin to wonder. It's getting close to being five, and there's still no sign of Jimin.

He takes a deep breath, adjusting the fit of his loose pullover slightly and fixing his bangs. It occurs to him how pitiful he must look to the other people inside, especially the ones who've been here as long as he has; it must be so obvious that he's waiting for someone.

Someone that's never going to come.

He shakes his head free of the thought. Why would Jimin stand him up? He wouldn't want to hurt Yoongi. Of course not. Jimin doesn't want to hurt anyone. He had jumped through hoops and then some to avoid doing so in the last month of their relationship.

Yoongi watches people's hair blow in the chilly breeze through the glass, stuffing their hands in their pockets due to the shockingly cold weather that day considering it's the end of April. It does amuse him for a little while, honestly, but it's not too long before he finds himself hopelessly glancing at the time on his phone screen again.

It is now ten minutes past five, and he's contemplating whether or not to just leave when his phone vibrates with a notification, jerking him out of his gloomy trance. He clicks on the banner.

jimin: I'm so sorry - something came up and I'm going to have to work late tonight. But maybe on another day?

Yoongi presses his lips into a thin line.

I should've known.

He awkwardly stands up, giving a side glance to the counter, and then deciding against ordering anything despite how tired he feels. He's already made himself look like a tragedy to the bright-eyed and even brighter haired barista who had clearly been watching him, and he's ready to go home.

yoongi: yeah that's okay :)

He leaves, head bowed down.

*****

"Dammit," he grumbles, rolling over on the carpet with his phone gripped horizontally in both hands.

Tiny Wings really pisses him off sometimes.

He adjusts the position of his legs so they're comfortable, and that's about when he realizes how stiff they are. He does suppose he's been laying there for a while now.

That's the moment that the door squeaks open, and he turns his head as Hoseok steps in, slipping his black jacket off of his shoulders and hanging it up.

"Hey, loser," Yoongi greets calmly, eyes flitting back to his screen.

"How's it going, hoe?" Hoseok sighs as he walks over to the lazy little heap lying (for whatever reason) on the floor that is Min Yoongi.

"Fine. You alright?" Yoongi questions, feeling his friend curl up next to him. He pauses his game, turning his head to look him in the face again, which is illuminated by the soft glow of the screen. He looks sad, in a way that Yoongi can't quite put his finger on.

"Yeah. Just tired," Hoseok admits, scooting his body a little closer to Yoongi's.

"Do you need a cuddle?" the older asks, and he's kind of teasing, but his tone sounds so serious that Hoseok can't help but laugh.

"You've gotten so embarrassing. But yes," he tells him, and he edges into his side, Yoongi accepting him into his warmth as he begins to play the game on his phone again.

"So you don't have something you wanna talk about?" he asks, blowing gently at the top of Hoseok's head a few inches away and rustling a few strands of soft hair.

"Nah. Just haven't been sleeping too well, I guess," he explains.

"As long as that's all it is."

He then continues to play in silence, tapping away as he normally does, and after a few games without another word from Hoseok, he realizes that his friend has fallen asleep next to him, breathing steadily and soft against his chest. "Goodnight, goofball," he whispers, brushing strands of hair out of his face.

Just then, as he's about to direct his attention back to his game, his phone vibrates, and he looks over to see a banner popping up at the top of his screen.

He taps it hesitantly after seeing who the sender is.

jimin: okay, tomorrow. Tomorrow I can get off early, I promise this time :')

His heart flutters.

yoongi: oh okay sure. what time?
jimin: does 5 work for you?
yoongi: yup
jimin: awesome c: same place okay?
yoongi: gotcha

*****

Unsurprisingly, he has a mental breakdown of sorts when he starts getting ready to see Jimin that next day.

His brain feels like it's a whoopee cushion that's slowly being sat on, and while he's in the shower he's honestly wondering if it would be better to just fling himself out of his apartment window right now. He can't stop thinking about what he should wear and what he should do and whether he can get himself to look even just the tiniest bit better than a stoned orangutan.

Plus, if he's being real, he can't say he hasn't thought about the possibility of Jimin standing him up (so to speak) for the second time.

And that's not even to mention just what the hell he's going to say to him if he does show up.

I mean, I can't exactly tell the truth if he asks me how my day's been. 'Oh, just lovely; I've only wanted to bash my head against a brick wall twice since this morning. Thanks for asking.'

Or even worse, what if Jimin asks him how he's been doing lately? Yoongi shudders.

He grabs the knob to turn the heat up even more, so much that he thinks the water is about two degrees shy of being the temperature of earth's inner core, and he notices that his skin is starting to look red and blotchy.

At this point it's pretty clear that he's going to have a chapped when he gets out and dries off, but what's done is done, so he might as well enjoy the feeling of the heat soothing him into numbness.

If only Jimin still loved me. Then maybe he'd agree to rub Vaseline all over my body. He snorts. That's definitely a mental image, but he's not going to lie and say he wouldn't enjoy it.

Alright, Yoongi, you dumb . Time to stop thinking about the fact that the most loving little in existence couldn't hold feelings for you before you make yourself depressed again.

When he's out of the shower, he quickly throws together an outfit, hoping that it'll look nice enough to give off the illusion that he has his life together, but not before rubbing lotion all over his body like a madman, which stings like because of how dry his skin is.

He can't believe what a mess he's become. He almost feels like it's five years ago, and he's getting ready for their very first date.

He buttons up a pair of tight denim jeans, watching a little gloomily as his fingers close them up in the mirror.

He really wishes he could go back to that time.

Maybe then, he could tell himself never to fall in love with Jimin.

*****

"Hey."

He hears the all too familiar voice in front of him, and he raises his head from its weary position in his arms.

Apple cheeks, plush lips, and bright eyes stare him in the face, and it's like seeing the first glimpses of green after a long winter.

And despite everything this human being has made him feel, a big smile splits his face.

He has always been such a fool for Jimin. Such a fool.

"Hey," he replies warmly, crooked grin so characteristic that it makes Jimin lose his breath a little in a rush of familiarity. He sits himself down in the chair across from Yoongi pointedly.

"So, how've you been lately?" he asks rather awkwardly, pressing his lips into a thin line.

Dammit. There it is. It's the question. The dreaded question.

You might as well get your chapped the hell out of here before you embarrass yourself, Yoongi.

"Everything's alright," he lies, though it's hard for him to say, nodding surely and making sure he continues to smile.

Something occurs to him then: their roles have switched. Jimin had pretended to be happy for Yoongi, and now, the older boy is doing the same thing for him.

But Yoongi has pretended so much in his life. This is nothing new to him. It , a lot, but it's not unfamiliar by any means.

Jimin visibly relaxes at his reassurance, not picking up on the fact that Yoongi only seems sincere because he's just happy to see him again. "Oh, good. I've been worried about you," he confesses, nervously brushing his bangs to the side with one of his small hands.

"Well, I'm fine," Yoongi puts in slowly. Jimin nods, a brief cloud of guilt sweeping over his face before it dissipates, and then the subject is left alone.

"So, how's work been? Still got that Oompa Loompa girl on your ?"

Jimin giggles loudly at that, covering his mouth for a few moments. "Well, I haven't heard that one before," he bubbles. "It's pretty accurate though, not gonna lie. I'm gonna tell Tae about it tomorrow. But yeah, she's been pretty tough on me. Nothing I can't handle, though."

"She's an angry little thing. Even shorter than you. I didn't know that could even happen," Yoongi teases nonchalantly.

"You're like, a half-centimeter taller than me," Jimin deadpans back, arching an eyebrow.

"How's the weather been down there recently?"

"Seriously. Maybe it's even less than a half-centimeter now. I could still sorta be growing, you never know."

"Sorry, what? I can't hear you over the sound of me being taller than you."

"And what exactly does that sound like?"

"Victory."

Jimin breaks, laughing at Yoongi's antics, as he always has, and just like that, it's like old times.

In some ways, at least.

They talk on easily, comfortably, and so compatibly, and still, they're distant in a way that Yoongi can't completely understand. It's a way that they never have been before.

They talk without awkward silences, they laugh together, and yet there's this gap between them. Yoongi just pretends like he doesn't notice, like things have always been like this. Jimin doesn't seem to pick up on it at all.

They end up staying longer than they'd intended; they don't even order their coffee until five-thirty or so, and it's almost six-thirty by the time they walk out the doors together.

"Hoseok is cooking tonight, so I gotta head home, but maybe we can go and get dinner sometime soon," Yoongi suggests to Jimin, who agrees enthusiastically.

And then, they part, but this time, it isn't on an unpleasant or gloomy note. At least, as far as Jimin can tell.

Yoongi shoves his hands into his jean pockets as he walks, thoughts a bittersweet blur. Things feel almost dreamy for him, a refuge from the reality of Jimin's feelings, and yet not quite so. He's somewhere in between a dream and reality, a place where his mind has no real substance. He is numb and overwhelmed with feeling at the same time.

He trudges through the door to his apartment, going to the thermostat to turn the temperature up a bit because lord does his best friend like it cold in here.

"I'm home!" he alerts said best friend, who Yoongi can hear bustling around in the kitchen from where he is. His voice sounds a little more exhausted than he'd expected it to, and his face scrunches up as he hears it leave his lips. He thinks he'll probably go to bed early tonight. Or at least, he'll try.

"Oh, bummer!" Hoseok calls back sarcastically, and Yoongi just fondly shakes his head before slipping out of his shoes and making his way to the only room in the apartment with the lights on.

He hops up into one of the chairs at the bar upon entering, leaning forward onto the counter and resting his chin into his palms. His eyes are full to the brim with a lost daydream as they settle on the small clock hanging on the far side of the room, and Hoseok turns, eyeing him curiously.

"What's all this about?" he questions with a slight frown, gesturing to Yoongi with the wooden spoon he has gripped in one of his bony hands.

Yoongi looks silently at him for a while with an indifferent expression, and eventually he just shrugs. Hoseok shrugs back, twirling around again to the stove using the slip of his socks on the smooth wooden floor.

But just when the younger boy thinks he isn't going to get a response out loud, Yoongi speaks up from behind him.

"I went to see Jimin."

Hoseok pauses, his movements stopping. "You did?" he asks after a moment.

"Yeah."

Hoseok nods, trying not to think of it as too big of a deal. "How is he doing?" he questions casually.

"He's doing well," Yoongi tells him calmly, studying the bright strands of his wavy locks. They look messy, like he'd slept restlessly again.

"And um...how are you doing?" Hoseok adds hesitantly at the reply.

"I'm fine. He wants to be friends, and that's fine with me," he assures his roommate coolly. "We were kind of friends before we got together anyway."

Hoseok takes a quick glance back at Yoongi's unbothered face, just hoping that he's telling the truth. "I mean, if you're sure."

"I'm not a weak person, Hoseok. I can deal with it."

"I didn't say you were weak," he protests, shaking his head to himself. "I'm just making sure you're okay. That's my job, you know."

"It doesn't have to be," Yoongi mutters, and things fall silent.

*****

Jimin squirms anxiously in the booth, running his fingers over the leather to try and comfort himself. He seems to be trying to even out his breathing, and Yoongi reaches over to lace their fingers together under the table so no one else can see. "It'll be okay," he whispers, leaning over so the other can hear him even in his low tone.

Jimin takes a deep breath. "I know. I'm just nervous," he murmurs back.

"That's alright. I've got you," Yoongi assures him, squeezing his hand, which Jimin returns gratefully.

"Hey, boys!" a cheery voice greets from close by, and their hands untangle quickly as they both look up to see Jimin's parents being led to the table by a short young woman with her hair tied up in a bun.

"Hi Mom. Hi Dad," Jimin returns, and his father smiles calmly at him. The two seat themselves in the booth on the other side of the table, and Jimin is thankful for the fact that they both seem to be in a good mood.

"So, how are you both?" Mrs. Park asks amicably, shedding her coat and folding it up so she can set it next to her in the booth.

"Good," Jimin replies, playing with the sleeves of his shirt under the table.

"Good. How's work been? You said you really liked your boss before, right?" she brings up warmly.

"Yeah, I did," Jimin recalls, nodding. "Yeah, he's really nice. I like his sense of humor."

"That's right, you told us about him. He seems like a nice guy," Mr. Park remarks, finishing up a text to someone or other before sliding his phone into his pocket. Yoongi knows that he can get pretty enveloped in his work sometimes, but at times like these, he usually shuts those things away and enjoys the time. It's kind of nice comparing to how his own father used to get when he was a kid.

"So, Yoongi, how've you been?" Mrs. Park asks sweetly, turning to face him. "It's been a while."

He smiles back at her. "Not bad," he replies.

"Still writing music?" she asks hopefully. Yoongi also knows Mrs. Park is the type to be very open-minded about music, so she'd really taken a liking to his compositions when he'd played a few for her. He was a little surprised when she complimented him so highly, but it had been a pleasant surprise.

He nods in confirmation. "I've had a lot of ideas in the past couple of months, actually," he tells her.

It's true. And yes, a couple of them are about Jimin. He knows that well. But it's obvious that it's not the best time for him to say that, because he can just feel Jimin's anxiety skyrocketing next to him. Literally. Jimin's thigh is pressed up against his, and by now he's picked up on the younger boy bouncing his leg up and down faster and faster.

He knows that the table hides everything underneath their chests, so carefully, so it's not noticeable to anyone else, he reaches over and places his hand on top of Jimin's again.

The younger takes a subtle deep breath through his nose as Mrs. Park starts to speak again. "That's good. I'd like to hear them at some point," she bubbles truthfully, and he nods happily at her again.

For a while, things carry on the way they would any other time they would get together like this. They order their drinks, they discuss little things like the fact that Mrs. Park has been trying for the past two months or so to start teaching Mr. Park how to cook a few things, to expand his horizons a bit, as she puts it.

They order food, discuss the crazy weather, ("It was just snowing earlier this week, and now it's in the sixties? These are the things that make me want to move sometimes.") and in some way or another the conversation eventually ends up at pets, which is beyond all of them, but none of them can really say they mind.

"Oh, I don't know. I was five and scared of absolutely everything. Can you really blame me, though? Have you ever had a chihuahua lunge at you?" Mrs. Park questions after they've been served their meals. "I can't think of anything more terrifying. They're evil little things. I am one-hundred percent certain they've got the devil in them."

"I have had a chihuahua attack me though," Jimin points out. "Remember Tae's dog?" he asks, toying with the food on his plate.

Mr. Park chuckles. "Okay, I may not have the best memory, but I do remember that dog," he puts in, clicking his tongue at the memory. "She was a mess."

"Oh my gosh, that's right! She was vicious. I swear she tried to rip your jugular out every time you went into that boy's house," Mrs. Park recalls, shaking her head. "I never knew why they kept that thing."

"Me neither," Jimin laughs lightheartedly. "We were thinking about getting a dog for a while, but we never ended up doing it," he comments.

Mr. Park pauses before he takes a sip of his drink, his look turning curious. "We?" he asks as he sets the glass back down.

"Yeah," Jimin replies in confusion as he gestures to himself and then Yoongi, totally forgetting that his parents hadn't been made aware they live together. Yoongi, however, has not forgotten this, and his heartbeat stutters, because the topic's come up.

He pokes Jimin in the stomach under the table, and the younger boy yelps out an almost silent, "Ow," before glancing over at the perpetrator. And as soon as he sees Yoongi's pointed look, he realizes his mistake.

"Are you two roommates?" Mrs. Park asks curiously, and they both turn to look across the table again, their faces those of two people who'd just been caught red-handed.

On the other hand, Jimin's parents both look surprised, whether it's about them living together, or the fact that they hadn't said anything about it until now.

Yoongi clears his mind of doubt as best he can. This is what they came here to do. No turning back now.

"Well, there was actually something we wanted to tell you," Jimin starts, glancing at Yoongi for the okay.

He looks so nervous. It kind of makes Yoongi feel bad, even though this is what they both want. Isn't it?

Yoongi nods at him in assent.

"Oh, yeah?" Mr. Park asks, totally oblivious to the whole thing. "What's that?"

Jimin is bouncing his leg faster than ever now, and he opens his mouth, his bottom lip trembling a little as he tries to summon the courage to tell his parents what they've been hiding from them all this time. He doesn't really know why it's so hard for him to say, but the words get caught in his throat, just like he'd been afraid they would.

"Is everything alright, sweetie?" his mother asks in concern, realizing just how scared he is to speak.

"Yeah, everything's okay," Jimin replies after a few seconds, nodding his head. His ears are turning a deep red, and as Yoongi watches him, he's starting to think the younger boy might just change the subject, or say something in place of the whole truth.

But suddenly, he opens his mouth again, and he inhales deeply before speaking up with determination.

"Me and Yoongi are together," he tells them.

Yoongi swallows thickly.

There it is. It's out. They're at the point of no return.

"Like, together as a couple?" Mrs. Park asks. Neither of them can read her expression, nor can they read Mr. Park's. The tone is precarious: one that could either be just what they'd hoped for or just what they'd been afraid of.

Jimin gulps, but after a long pause, he gives a brave nod of confirmation. "I really, really like him, so I hope you'll accept us." Yoongi's chest feels so tight; everything is finally out in the open. No more secrets. Nothing to hide.

Suddenly, though, to his complete shock, a huge, giddy grin spreads across Mrs. Park's face, and she glances over at Mr. Park, who's trying not to make eye contact with her.

"What did I tell you?" she remarks to him, holding up a hand in front of her. "C'mon, dear. You gotta give that one to me," she insists smugly, and Mr. Park reluctantly high fives her, rolling his eyes as Yoongi and Jimin watch in awe.

"Mom, what..." Jimin mumbles, totally taken aback. Yoongi just sits silently, staring with his eyes widened in confusion.

"Forgive me, boys. I had a hunch. It was just mother's intuition, really," Mrs. Park giggles. "You two have always been so cute together. I couldn't help but think there was something more there."

Jimin and Yoongi both try to gather their scattered thoughts. "So, you're not mad?" the younger asks.

"Mad? No, we're not mad," Mr. Park replies calmly. "Nothing could ever change how much we love you, Jimin. I just didn't think you two were romantic," he explains, shrugging. "I guess your mother is pretty good at picking up on that stuff."

"You know it, baby," Mrs. Park puts in triumphantly, doing a victory fist-pump to try and make her husband laugh, which actually works.

Jimin doesn't seem to know at all what to say,
looking between both of his parents in surprise and relief.

Mrs. Park turns a little more serious then. "Don't look so shocked, Jiminie. You'll always be our son. No matter what," she assures him, her voice becoming kind and gentle. "I don't know about your father, but I'm glad it's Yoongi. I know he'll take care of my baby boy," she says honestly, winking at Yoongi.

Mr. Park nods in agreement. "You're a good guy, Yoongi. We trust you."

Yoongi's cheeks feel like they could burn off. Does he really deserve this kind of trust? He hopes so. "Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Park," he replies, sounding a little awkward and quiet but still polite as Jimin wraps an arm around his small frame happily. "I'll look after him."

"You're such a sweetheart," Mrs. Park coos, placing a hand over her heart. "I'm getting emotional, dear. Look at our babies together," she gushes to her husband as Jimin beams back at her.

But the smaller boy in his hold is still is too timid to smile, and Mr. Park seems to notice. "Honey, I think you're scaring Yoongi," he teases her, taking another sip of his drink.

Yoongi chuckles quietly, shaking his head. "Nah, it's okay," he assures Jimin's father, and Jimin leans over to peck his boyfriend affectionately on the cheek.

Yoongi's cheeks feel so hot, but for the first time in a long while, his chest is filled with a warmth that feels like it won't ever fade away.

*****

Oddly enough, he's just dropped by the coffee shop they'd met up at before to get a quick drink when he receives the next text. It's quite the coincidence, but he thinks a lot of things in his life have been happening this way lately.

jimin: hi :)

Frankly, he doesn't know why these messages are still catching him off guard the way they do, but every time he gets one, he has a physical reaction. This time, for example, his fingers tighten around his cup so much that the barista (the same pink-haired one that had seen him sit alone for an hour without ordering anything, bless his heart) asks him if he's okay, to which he just nods awkwardly.

It is what is is, though. And at this point, he's already gotten himself involved with Jimin again. There's no going back now, so he might as well answer him.

yoongi: heyy
jimin: want to get dinner together tonight?

Does he? Well, then again, it was him that had suggested it before.

Remember, Yoongi, there's no going back. You put yourself in this situation, so just go if it'll make him happy.

yoongi: yeah sure. You can pick the place
jimin: as ever c; I was thinking about checking out that new sushi place, do you know which one I mean?
yoongi: oh yeah I think so. The one by that big line of trees with all the fairy lights?
jimin: that's the one. Meet me at 6? :)
yoongi: mhm see you then

*****

"You know, I forgot you call them fairy lights," Jimin remarks in amusement, dipping a small piece of one of the rolls in soy sauce and raising it to his grinning mouth. "You're still such a little kid on the inside."

Yoongi just frowns disapprovingly, taking a particularly large piece for himself. "So are you. You're way worse than me. Besides, like, most of Europe calls them fairy lights. It's not like I'm alone or anything," he defends himself, crunching down on his food defiantly after shoving it in his mouth.

"Okay, well, how about the time when you tried to use dish soap to clean out that cut on your finger. The one you got when you broke the wine glass," Jimin brings up, crossing his arms and smirking confidently from across the table.

"Well, I was dead tired 'cause you'd kept me up all that last night to watch shooting stars," Yoongi reminds him challengingly. "Besides, I'm not the one who squeals like a five year old girl every time I see a bee."

"I'm allergic!"

"So?"

Jimin pouts, face scrunched up in thought. "Well, you didn't even know where the vacuum was for the first seven months of us living together," he retorts, and a smug expression blooms on his face as he observes Yoongi's concentrated stare. Try as he might to think of a good deflection, the older of them finally has to accept that he's been beaten.

"Alright, you got me. I can't believe you'd remember something that specific just to attack me, though," he points out in sarcastic offense, taking a bite of another roll that he's absentmindedly covered with a ridiculous amount of wasabi.

Jimin gasps shortly as he pops it in his mouth, and breaks into an almost embarrassingly loud laugh as Yoongi coughs, screwing his eyes shut and desperately leaning forward to take a long sip of his lemonade. His eyes water, and he glares at a blurry, grinning Jimin.

"Why do you enjoy my suffering?" he wheezes after gulping down the lemonade.

Jimin thoughtfully tilts his head in response. "You're the type to have a lot of pride sometimes, Yoon," he explains teasingly, voice as cheery and cute as ever.

Yoongi tenses up a little at the the familiar affectionate nickname, even as he's still coughing from the lingering wasabi burn in his throat.

"Ah, I can feel it in my nose," he groans, trying to distract himself from what Jimin just called him. He leans forward to take another drink from the black plastic straw.

"Are you alright?" Jimin questions, and he still sounds kind of amused, but sympathetic at the same time.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Yoongi sighs at himself, not wanting to make eye contact with Jimin because his expression probably makes him look like he's carsick. That, he thinks, is what brings him to observe the inside of the restaurant instead.

The lighting is dim, but not so dim that it hinders the view of the modernistic design throughout the place; a chandelier of glass orbs hangs from the ceiling, and an oddly shaped mirror covers much of the silver wall furthest from the two of them. Yoongi decides he likes it.

"How is Hoseok, by the way? Haven't seen him in a while," Jimin asks, noticing the pause and changing the subject.

Yoongi snaps his eyes back to look him in the face again, and he clears his throat loudly, trying to eliminate the almost tense feeling that's clouded up.

"He's, uh...he's doing well," he tells Jimin, in a tone of voice that suggests he doesn't actually think so. "Well, I don't know. He does seem really worried about me. I can't figure out why," he lies.

Jimin doesn't seem concerned, though. "He just cares a lot. I wouldn't think much of it, honestly. He's always been like this. Remember that time you broke your wrist and he about cried on the phone when you told him?"

Yoongi chuckles fondly at the memory, one that had happened a few years ago but is still clear as day in his mind. "I guess you're right. He's a softie," he adds fondly.

Jimin smiles. "He is. But so are you. I know you'll never admit it, but you are."

Yoongi frowns in denial. "Oh, please."

"No, really. You've always babied me, even if you say some stuff that's kinda mean sometimes."

Yoongi swallows another bite of food with a challenging stare. "I most definitely have not."

"Have too."

"You better stop that, Park Jimin," he growls playfully, not being able to keep the little grin off his face.

"Or what? You'll tickle me to death?" Jimin teases, a spark in his eye that quickly fades as he realizes that was not what he should have said.

Yoongi smirks.

Oh no.

That's not what Jimin should have said.

"Don't give me ideas, smart one," Yoongi warns mischievously as he sinks down in his seat slightly under the table, a grabby hand sneaking over to Jimin's sensitive side and pinching suddenly. Jimin opens his mouth in a silent squeal, moving away quickly and involuntarily giggling like a giddy schoolgirl as Yoongi pops back up in his seat as if nothing happened.

"You've been warned," he jokes in a hiss, and Jimin rolls his eyes, feigning melodrama.

"Remind me why I talk to you?" he jabs.

And Yoongi speaks before thinking. Yoongi doesn't realize what he's saying until it's already too late.

"Because you love me."

He takes a pause as it washes over him.

Unsurprisingly, he's more than ready to throw himself off the nearest cliff when exactly what he's just said occurs to him, and he bites his lip, but then it also occurs to him that Jimin doesn't seem to have noticed.

The younger boy just laughs again quietly as if it were anyone else saying that to him, and then the air fills with a silence in which Jimin smiles, and Yoongi tries to breathe.

Because although he'll never admit it out loud, it's suffocating - the way they're recreating this spark between them, the relationship budding again after the frost has melted away. It spins Yoongi's mind in dizzying spirals that he hides behind neutral expressions.

From that moment, the clock seems to simply sweep the time away. Jimin, once again, never picks up on the underlying gloom surrounding Yoongi like a raincloud, following him everywhere he walks.

Frankly, Yoongi doesn't know if he feels relieved or bitter, because it's like he really is a complete stranger. Like Jimin never even knew him. Like everything is starting over, and he's the only one that remembers what happened.

It's fine, though. That's completely okay, because he doesn't care.

He really doesn't.

Before he knows it, the two of them are walking out through the glass doors side by side. "So, where's your place?" Yoongi asks nonchalantly as they take their leave, glancing over at Jimin.

"Down that way," he tells him, pointing to a road that leads straight out behind a row of petite trees, all alight with little bulbs strung with care through their branches. Yoongi nods in acknowledgement, glancing over in the direction of his own home.

But something in him refuses to bid Jimin goodbye. His mouth stays shut, and for whatever reason, he finds himself going over to sit himself on one of the benches placed under the branches of the glowing trees.

Jimin follows him on instinct, and suddenly Yoongi can feel his warm body against the curve of his left hip. "Lazy bones," he teases, brushing his blonde bangs to the side and pulling his jacket a little tighter around him as the breeze blows by.

"Maybe I just want to appreciate my surroundings," Yoongi objects, gesturing at the peaceful sight that holds both of them in its midst.

"I think you just want to sit down," Jimin chuckles, crossing his legs casually. "But I agree. It's so pretty here," he adds gently.

In reality, though, the scenery isn't what catches Yoongi's attention, and he knows it. Though he tries to keep his eyes off, he gives in after not too long, stealing a loving look at Jimin's content face.

His cheekbones and eyes glow with the lights above them, and the urge to slide his hands along Jimin's jawline, lean in, press his lips to his, is kind of overwhelming. And it , to say the least.

He clears his throat, leaning back into the bench with a small creak, and he shuts his eyes.

Would it be out of line to lay a hand on top of his? He doesn't really know where his boundaries are so early on in the rekindling of their relationship, and he definitely isn't going to take any chances, but it's tempting as anything.

Jimin's lips part widely in a sleepy yawn, his arms wrapped around himself comfortably to fight the cold, and Yoongi casually smacks his lips, eyes hooded. Relaxed and restless - it would take a very intuitive person to really know which is which from just their appearances.

This is all stupid. So, so stupid.

Jimin is happy with what they have together now, so Yoongi is too. He is.

He tells himself that repeatedly, and yet, after a while, having Jimin sitting there but being barred from him starts to become a little too much for him. Yoongi thinks that it would probably be better if he just left.

And so he lifts himself off of the bench with a small grunt, and simply mutters, "I gotta get home," before walking off in the designated direction, leaving Jimin staring silently behind him.

---

Well then

Idk what to say lol...I hope you guys are having a good day :)

See you soon! c: