When Yoongi met Jimin for the first time, he was flying.

It was a late autumn day, the kind where the wind was just cold enough to bite through your jacket, and the sun was shining too brightly in the sky for the little warmth it provided. Yellow, orange and red speckled across the sky and dead leaves covered the grass on the playground and the spot where a single swing resided under the big tree where Yoongi was currently playing by himself, just like he did every recess. 

He kicked his little legs as hard as he could, forcing himself to go higher, faster. Maybe today I'll go so high I'll flip all the way around! he thought excitedly.

This was how he met Jimin; kicking as hard as he could, trying to beat his own personal record because as far as he was concerned he was the undefeated High Swing Champion, when he was at the highest peak and he heard a small voice shout at him from the ground, "Can I try?"

His attention was diverted for split second. It was a only a split second, but it was a split second too long. He looked down, and a wave of vertigo rose up from his stomach and made him dizzy. The chains slipped out of his hands, and he was flying.

Thankfully, he didn't hit the ground that hard. Actually, he didn't even really fall, because he managed to get a grip on the seat before that could happen but it left his feet dangling until they hit the mulch and the impact forced him to let go of the swing and he fell backwards, also hitting his head on the ground with a thunk.

"Oh no, are you okay?!" the voice was a little closer. Yoongi slowly opened his eyes. The shining sun aggravated the dull throbbing pain in the back of his head, and he could feel his eyes watering in pain but he blinked rapidly, forcing his tears down. Crying was for babies, and 8 year old's weren't babies.

He blinked a couple more times, the black spots in his vision slowly started to clear up until he could see the boy kneeling over him. He was small and chubby, with lips that looked like fluffy pillows and even chubbier cheeks, and dark brown hair that matched his eyes. 

"Are you okay?" he asked again. His voice was really high, almost as high as a girl's.

Yoongi grumbled, and pushed him away. "You made me fall," he said harshly.

The other boy hung his head briefly, and when he looked back up, he looked him in the eyes. "I'm really sorry," he said back, and he anyone would be able to tell that he genuinely was, but Yoongi, wanting to stay angry, stayed sat with his arms crossed, thinking to himself that this is exactly why he didn't like playing with other kids.

"Please don't hate me. I really am sorry," he tried again.  Yoongi stayed still.

"Do you want me to kiss it and make it better?"

Yoongi snapped his head in his direction, and blinked at him. "Why would you do that?"

"Because kisses make everything better! That's what my mom says, and she's always right." The boy smiled. 

Yoongi wanted to stay mad. He wanted to grumble and stomp his feet at the boy who in his eyes was responsible for him falling and hurting himself, but when he was looking him like that, his smile making his chubby cheeks look even chubbier and causing his eyes to disappear into tiny little slits, it was just about the most adorable thing Yoongi had ever seen in his 8 years of life, and he couldn't stay mad at him. He just couldn't.

"I-I guess you can."

The other boy beamed, and leaned over until his face was just a mere inches from Yoongi's. Yoongi closed his eyes and felt a soft, tender press of lips against the center of his forehead.

If he was blushing, it was purely because of the cold, and absolutely nothing else.

"See, all better now!"

No amount of fighting could've stopped the grin that broke out on Yoongi's face.

"My name's Jimin, what's yours?" the other boy - Jimin - asked.

"Yoongi," he replied. "My name's Yoongi."

-

They were near inseparable after that day. Jimin played with Yoongi on the swing every Tuesday and Thursday when the kindergarteners had recess with the second graders, and despite his initial hesitance to play with other kids, Yoongi couldn't find himself minding that much.

He taught Jimin how to swing on those days, and laughed at how frustrated he got whenever he couldn't get the momentum or height he wanted because his legs were so short. It was funny watching him struggle until he would pout cutely, until one day he saw Jimin hang his head followed by a sniffle, and he rushed over to his side.

"Are you okay, Jiminie?" he asked, putting his hands on the other boys chin and tilting his head up. 

"I just-" Jimin sniffles again and rubs his eyes, but it doesn't stop the tears from falling on his puffy cheeks, "I just wanna go as high as you, hyung. But I can't." 

Yoongi's at a loss. There are kids that he would talk to (or at least try to) but he's never had an actual friend before, and he doesn't have any younger siblings either. Anytime he would cry at home his dad only ever told him to stop crying so much, because men were strong and men didn't cry, but for some reason he doesn't think doing that would go over very well with Jimin.

He settles on hugging him. That's comforting right? He's seen friends hug on cartoons all the time.

With Jimin still on the swing, Yoongi wraps his arms around Jimin's shoulders and Jimin wraps his arms around Yoongi's tummy, burying his face in the crook of his neck. It feels nice. Jimin's soft and squishy, in contrast to Yoongi who is built like those bugs that look like sticks, and he probably doesn't feel that nice to hug but Jimin's squeezing the life out of him anyway. 

They hug until the end of recess.

The next time they have recess together, Jimin walks up to Yoongi bouncing on his toes.

"I know how I can go as high as you, hyung!"

"How?" he asks, chuckling fondly at the younger boys energy.

"You can push me! Will you push me, hyung? Please please plleeeeaaaaasssee?"

Yoongi wasn't sure how he did it, but somehow Jimin was able to turn Yoongi into a marshmallow. No one's been able to do that before. No one's ever given him a chance to be soft. Everybody thought that because he didn't talk much that he was uncaring, or unkind, but not Jimin. Jimin didn't do that, and Yoongi's tummy was overflowing with butterflies. "Yeah yeah twerp, I'll push you."

Yoongi helps Jimin on the swing (his legs are too short for him to get up himself) and pushes.

That day Yoongi decides the sound of Jimin's laughter as he pushes him higher and higher is one of his favorites.

-

It's at a parent teacher conference when Yoongi meets Jimin's parents for the first time. Yoongi's walking through the hallways with his mom, coming out from speaking with Yoongi's teacher. He stayed in the corner for most of it, but he still heard some of their conversation. Basically, he's a good kid but his teacher wishes he would participate more. Nothing he hasn't heard himself already.

They turn the corner and walk past a classroom with the door open, and Yoongi hears a very loud, very distinct "Hyung!" about a few feet behind him, followed by a pair of arms wrapping tightly around his middle.

"Hi hyung!" Jimin says excitedly.

Yoongi's about to follow with a greeting of his own when a man and a woman run out of the classroom and into the hallway.

"Jimin-ah! How many times have we told you to stop running off like that?" the man asked him sternly.

"Sorry," Jimin replied, although to Yoongi he didn't look sorry at all, "but dad look, it's Yoongi hyung!"

Jimin's dad looked down at him curiously, and then the light bulb goes off and he smiles knowingly. "Oh, so you're the famous Yoongi Jimin hasn't stopped talking about?"

"I guess so," he says lamely, looking down at the floor to hide his slight blush.

"Yoongiyah, you never told us you made a friend," his mom, whose been watching this unfold, says as she ruffles his hair. Yoongi goes to reply, but Jimin beats him to it. 

"Yoongi hyung's my best friend! We play on the swings at recess all the time, and he even taught me how to swing! But sometimes I get sad because I'm not as good as hyung, but then he pushes me so I can go just as high as he does." Yoongi's face had gone completely red when Jimin said "best friend."

"Does he?" his mom asks, and Yoongi's a little bit offended at how shocked she sounds. 

"Yeah," the younger boy giggles, eyes disappearing. And then his face lights up. "Oh, mama, daddy, can Yoongi stay over this weekend?"

Jimin's parents share matching looks of surprise and turn to each other, and then shrug. "Of course, as long as Yoongi's mom says it's okay."

"I don't see a problem," Yoongi's mom says with a warm grin, and then places a gentle hand on Yoongi's head. "Would you like that Yoongiyah?" 

Yoongi turns to Jimin, who's looking at him with his hands clasped together and puppy dog eyes, silently begging him to please say yes, please please.

"Yeah," he answers. "I'd like that."

 -

That's how Yoongi found himself at Jimin's house that Friday night with a bag packed with a change of clothes, his pajamas and a toothbrush hanging off his shoulder, waving his mom goodbye as she drives off into the cold December night.

The Park's house is warm and homey. It was on the smaller side, and the walls are painted a soft cream color. There are candles burning that smell like a fire place, heady and smokey, mixing with the smell of whatever was cooking in the kitchen. Yoongi felt fuzzy inside. It wasn't a feeling he usually associated with home, but he liked it.

"Yoongi hyung!" Jimin shouted from the top of the stairs, running down as fast as he can and tackling Yoongi to the ground with a loud thud.

"I'm so glad you're here!" 

"Yeah me too, now get off me, you're heavy."

Jimin rolled off to the side.

"We're gonna have so much fun, hyung! We can make a fort out of all my pillows, and we can stay up and watch movies, and-" 

"Jimin-ah? Jimin what was that - oh."

"Hey, dad," Jimin said from the floor. Yoongi smiled sheepishly. "Yoongi hyung's here."

"I can see that," his dad chuckled softly. "Now if you're done practicing your wrestling moves on him, why don't you show him around while I finish up dinner."

Jimin extended his hand out to Yoongi and helped him up, leading him up through the living room and the kitchen, and then upstairs to the bathroom's, and Yoongi was surprised how many pictures there were. There were a variety of pictures from when Mr. and Mrs. Park's wedding, from when Jimin was a baby up until now, of family vacations they took, and of Jimin's birthday parties. They were on tables, and hanging on the walls in the living room, up and down the staircase and through the hallways.

Yoongi didn't have any pictures hanging up in his house.

Dinner was even stranger for him. Back at his house they usually ate in silence, or his dad would talk to his mom about his work, but here it wasn't like that. They laughed and made jokes with each other, and most notably, made an effort to include Yoongi in the conversation, which was strange to him because his father always told to him 'stay in his place,' whatever that meant.

It was different. But it was nice. It was really nice.

"Jimin-ah, Yoongi, clear the table and then you can head upstairs okay?" said Mrs. Park as she rose from the table.

"Okay mama," Jimin answered, and started clearing the table, Yoongi following his lead.

Once they were done, Yoongi followed an eager Jimin upstairs to his room.

"This is when the fun really starts," Jimin whisper-shouted to Yoongi as they walked into his bedroom, and immediately started stripping his bed.

"Wait, what are you doing?! Don't we need to sleep there?" 

"We're making a fort, silly. Like I said earlier?"

Yoongi blinked. "A fort?"

"Yeah, you know how to make one right?"

Yoongi shook his head.

"So you've never made a fort before?"

He shook his head again.

"Well...I guess I'll just have to teach you then! Since you taught me how to swing, it's only fair," Jimin smiled, not big enough to make his eyes disappear but still enough to make Yoongi's tummy flip.

"Here, hold this end," Jimin handed Yoongi a corner of one of his spiderman bed sheet as he took the other corner and tied it to his bed post.

"Now put your piece on my desk and use my books to keep it there."

Yoongi did as he was told, and continued to until the room was draped in fabric, and then watched Jimin as he covered the floor in pillows, and patted the spot next to him.

"Come 'ere."

Yoongi climbed on his hands and knees and settled next to Jimin, who turned to face him.

"So this is your first time in a fort, too?" he asked.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"You haven't even been in one with your other friends?"

"I don't have any other friends."

Jimin's eyes widened. "Really?"

Overcome with a sinking feeling, Yoongi looked down. "Yeah..." he said slowly.

Jimin looked at him peculiarly, knitting his eyebrows together, and Yoongi, in his insecurities, was growing increasingly ashamed. It's not that he didn't like the other kids. It's that the other kids didn't like him. He's tried to talk to them, he has, but he was always brushed off and ignored, so he eventually stopped trying. And now his heart was pumping and his eyes were welling up because what if Jimin does the same thing? What if he's realizing he doesn't want to be friends with him anymore? He doesn't know if he could handle that.

"So," Jimin finally says, and Yoongi shuts his eyes tight, mentally preparing himself for the worst, "I won't have to share you then?"

Yoongi looks at Jimin. Jimin's smiling, but something in Yoongi's expression must have worried him because it immediately faltered.

"Why are you crying?"

Yoongi brings his hands to his cheeks, and feels a wetness. He is crying, but he's crying because he's relieved. He's so relieved..

"I'm just really happy you're my best friend," he whispered.

In the darkness, Jimin whispered back, "I'm really happy you're my best friend too."

-

"Jiminie, can you please practice somewhere else?"

"But the living room is the only place with enough space."

"We're supposed to be doing homework."

Jimin pouted. "But hyung, I have to have this routine perfected for next weekend's competition." 

"And I need at least a B on this upcoming test so I don't have to repeat this course next semester, and you're distracting me."

Jimin huffed. "Fine, I'll go practice in my room. I should be done in about 15 minutes."

Yoongi breathed out a sigh of of relief when Jimin grabbed his shirt and finally left the room, and ran a hand over his face. Part of him felt bad for kicking Jimin out of his own living space, but it was necessary for his grade, and more importantly, his sanity. Poor Jimin though, who probably thought he was kicking him out because the music was too loud.

Despite them growing older, discovering things about themselves and all the fun things that came with adolescence, the two remained incredibly close over the last 7 years. They still had their fights, of course. Like when Yoongi moved up to the middle school while Jimin was still stuck in 4th grade and they could no longer see each other in school everyday. It wasn't too bad on Yoongi. He missed him, obviously, but he could handle it, and he'd still see him after school sometimes so to him it didn't matter but Jimin was different. Jimin was the kind of person that needed attention and affection at almost all hours of the day.

He still vividly remembers the day Jimin broke down in tears and screamed at him, claiming Yoongi was drifting away from him and didn't like his as much anymore. Yoongi had tried to console him for 2 hours until he calmed down. He apologized profusely, but Yoongi wasn't mad at Jimin (couldn't get mad at Jimin) for yelling at him, he was more hurt that he could possibly think Yoongi would ever do that. That was when he learned just how sensitive and insecure Jimin really was.

That was the same year Jimin met Taehyung and Jungkook, something Yoongi would always be grateful for. They showered him with the attention that Yoongi wanted to give him but couldn't, and thankfully after they crossed that bridge they avoided doing the same thing when Yoongi moved up to the high school school last year. Taehyung and Jungkook became good friends to Yoongi as well. Even if all three of them together were a pain in the .

And Yoongi, well, Yoongi had realized some things about himself too. 

He wasn't...he didn't know if he was gay, per se, but he knew that he liked boys.

And he definitely knew that he liked Jimin.

And him practicing with his shirt off in the same general vicinity as Yoongi, with the soft beginnings of muscles replacing his former chubbiness thanks to all his dance classes was not good for his health. Not. At. All. 

Jimin returned 15 minutes later as promised, just as Yoongi was finishing up the last of his assignments, thank God.

"I'm done, tyrant."

"Well excuse the out of me for caring about my educa-" Yoongi looked up and immediately forgot what he was saying.

"What?" Jimin asked.

"Why are you still shirtless?" Yoongi counters, a little breathless. Only a little. His eyes linger there for a little longer than they should have, tracing the barely there definitive lines of pectorals and abs and Yoongi stop it he just turned 14.

Jimin looks down and shrugs. "I'm all hot and sweaty now," he says and plops down right next to Yoongi nonchalantly.

"You wanna watch tv?" he asks in his innocence, completely unaware of Yoongi having an internal meltdown right next to him. 

"Uh," Yoongi checks the clock. It's 5:47, about half an hour before his father told him to be home for dinner and Yoongi thinks he might have just found an out. "Actually, I should probably get going. My dad has some big announcement and he wants me home soon."

Jimin's face falls. "Oh..."

"Yeah...I'm really sorry but I'll text you tonight okay?"

Jimin's still pouting but he allows himself to smile a little and answer with an okay of his own.

Yoongi ruffles Jimin's hair, and for a split second contemplates leaning down to kiss his head but decides against it, and grabs his bag and heads toward the door.

"Wait!" Jimin shouts as Yoongi is about to walk out. "You're still coming to my competition next weekend right?" he asks with big eyes and a jutted lip, and Yoongi feels his heart clench as he sees the boy he first met on the playground 7 years ago. The boy with big eyes and chubby cheeks and fluffy hair as he stared at him like a kicked puppy and begged for Yoongi to forgive him. It was that same look for approval, for want, for love, that he was seeing currently, and Yoongi felt a nagging need to take his face between his hands and kiss the life out of him, but he couldn't. 

Maybe someday he'd get the courage to tell him. But today wasn't the right day. Right now wasn't the right time, so instead he placed his hand on the side of the younger boys neck and said, "Of course, Jiminie. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

-

Yoongi didn't ever think his entire life could come crashing around him in mere seconds. He never thought everything he ever had could be ripped out from under him and make him feel like he was free falling through time and space but that's exactly what was happening. He stared at his parents in front of him. His father was rooted, and stern, his shoulders set, his back straight. Confident. His mother was much more timid, and was looking everywhere but at Yoongi and also looking like she wanted to say something, but couldn't.

"We're moving to Seoul?" Yoongi asked again, because he honestly couldn't believe it. It didn't sound right to his ears. It didn't sound real.

"For the second and last time Yoongi, yes. My company has finally taken off and we can afford to relocate to more promising venues to gain more business. It's everything I've ever worked for, and you should be proud and grateful."

"But..." Yoongi didn't know what to think. He had everything here. He grew up here. This house was the only home he's ever known. He could go through town and name every location where he's scraped his hands and knees, he could show you the graffiti on the local playground that's been there since he was 10. This was where his life was. This was home, he couldn't just pack up and leave it.

"No buts," his father scolded him. "We leave in the middle of next week."

Next week. Next week he would be in Seoul. He would leave familiarity and be into a world of uncertainty. He would leave all of his friends, behind. Taehyung, Jungkook, Jimin-

Jimin. Jimin's competition was next weekend.

"Wait," Yoongi said, suddenly extremely desperate because his mind was in so much shock he had completely forgot about Jimin. "Can it wait? Jimin's competition is next weekend, and I promised him I'd be there. Ineed to be there."

His father looked at him, expression locked in stoicism. "Ah, yes, Jimin. Maybe this will give you the opportunity to make friends your own age."

That felt like a punch in the stomach. 

"I've already contacted your school, so they've been made aware of the move, and will transfer your records to your new school in Seoul. Everything's already set in stone. And we're done discussing this."

Yoongi father left the living room, leaving only his mother and him in silence with only the ticking of the clock hanging on the wall to break it. He wanted to argue, he wanted to argue so badly and scream and kick about how much this wasn't fair, but he knew his father would only say that that was life, and the quicker he got used to it the better. He was his father, and what he said was final. So he sat there, wrapped in his own arms and willed himself not to cry.

He didn't even realize his mother had gotten off the couch until she wrapped her arms around him, too.

"Oh Yoongiyah," she said into his hair. "It'll be okay, I promise it'll be okay."

"I don't see how," he said, and he really didn't. How could things possibly be okay when he was leaving behind the person he cared about more than anything? Jimin, his Jiminie...

"I know it seems like that now, but you never know what'll happen. This move might be good for you." she said with a soothing tone and rubbed his back in small tight circles, something she used to do when he was little, and Yoongi could breath a little easier. It wasn't okay, but it was still nice. "But if you're feeling down, we still have some of your favorite ice cream left."

Yoongi smiled against her shoulder. "Race you to the kitchen?"

"You're on."

His mom won, but he preferred the taste of peanut butter chocolate chip over the taste of victory.

-

He spent the next few days avoiding Jimin. He knew it was dumb, and that it was only a matter of time before Jimin came busting through with a battering ram and demanded to know why, but he was stuck thinking of how to he should word everything in a way that wouldn't completely break Jimin's heart (and by default, his own). Everything he came up with just sounded so...not compassionate at all. He knew he needed to break it to him gently, but Yoongi was never good at gentle, and everything he thought of in his head just sounded like the words of a robot. Or corny as hell.

He was just lucky Jimin was still in middle school, and wouldn't have to worry about bumping into him here.

A buzz went off in his pocket as he was walking down the school hallways to the nearest bathroom. He already knew without having to check who it was, but he still fished it through his jean pockets unlocked his phone so he could break his heart a little more as he read another worried message from-

Taehyung?

Yoongi scrunched his nose and opened the message.

Taetae [12:38pm]

whats going on between you and jimin. did something bad happen? he's really worried

Another buzz.

Taetae [12:39pm]

its not fair to keep him in the dark you know. he has a right to know what he did

Yoongi sighed and ran a hand over his face. He knew that. Of course he knew that. He didn't want to hurt Jimin, but he knew that telling him he was moving all away across the country and would more than likely never see him again would hurt him 10 times more. 

But Taehyung was right. He had to talk to him, soon. 

Me [12:41pm]

jimin didn't do anything...can you tell him to talk to me after school? it's important

Yoongi spent the rest of the day trying to think of ways to break the news to him, and got a lot of flack for being distracted and not paying attention in his classes but he honestly couldn't give a . He kicked his shoes off angrily as he entered his house, briefly thanking the universe that his dad was still at work so he wouldn't get yelled at, and marched upstairs to his room and threw his door open, tossing his bag somewhere near his desk before sliding down the wall with his head in his hands.

"Hi hyung."

Yoongi jumped, and opened his eyes, greeted by the image of Jimin sat perched on his bed.

"Jesus, Jiminie you scared the crap out of me," he said, clutching his heart. "What are you doing here?"

"Tae said you wanted to talk to me after school."

"But how did you get in here?"

"Your mom let me in."

"Oh," Yoongi answered, but didn't say anything else. The silence stretched on awkwardly while Jimin held his gaze, waiting for Yoongi to say something as Yoongi sat there, chewing his bottom lip until it was raw and cracked and he could taste iron. The air was thick with tension and words left unsaid but neither wanted to budge. Neither wanted to break it, until Yoongi could see Jimin buzzing underneath of his skin and he could tell his resolve was about to crack.

"What's going on, hyung?" 

Oh no. He sounded so sad.

But Yoongi doesn't know how to answer.

"Because you left, and you said you'd text me that night but you didn't and you haven't been answering my calls or my texts and you haven't been over my house at all."

Yoongi could hear Jimin's voice thicken. He could hear where it starts to crack with the threat of tears and Yoongi's heart cracks along with them. He looked down, too ashamed to look him in the eye.

"Does it have to do with whatever your dad wanted to tell you? Was it bad? Did somebody die? Whatever it is, you can tell me. I'm your best friend."

Yoongi's eyes are watering, and he doesn't have the strength to try to stop it. He doesn't want to have this conversation. He doesn't want to make Jimin sad. He doesn't want to move. He doesn't want to break his promise. He doesn't want to live with the ache of loving someone who doesn't love him back, not in the way he wants them to. He doesn't want any of this. But then Jimin asks a question that has Yoongi's entire world shifting and breaking. Falling apart and then falling together again.

"What are all these boxes for?"

And just like that, the dam breaks. 

His sobs sound pathetic to his own ears but he can't make himself stop. The harder he tries the harder they push against his tear ducts, pouring out onto his face with the ferocity of a roaring river. Jimin is by his side in an instant, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him tightly into his chest, and Yoongi clings to his shirt. He vaguely hears him trying to calm him down with shh's and comforting words but it's faint, like Yoongi's underwater. 

One of Jimins hands comes to his face to wipe his tears, and then wraps around his chin to lift his head to meet his eyes. Jimin was crying too, even though he didn't know what was happening, he still cried. Cried with him.

Yoongi took deep breaths, only exhaling when it felt like his lungs were about to burst, and grabbed Jimin's hand and led them both back to his bed when he was finally calm enough. He stared at the ceiling, getting his words together. Jimin sat patiently next to him, waiting for Yoongi to speak and not rushing him this time. 

This was it, the moment he'd spent all day dreading and trying to prepare for it but he still felt so vulnerable and . All of his attempts to word and reword it sounded so wrong in his head. And now he was out of time.

Still looking at the ceiling, he took a deep breath, and opened his mouth. "We're moving."

There was a pause. He could see Jimin's eyebrows furrow out of the corner of his eyes, staring at him like a math puzzle he couldn't quite solve. "That's all? Hyung, that's not the end of the world. We can still hang out and -"

"No, Jiminie, no," Yoongi shakes his head and looks at Jimin sadly. "We're moving to Seoul."

Jimin visibly freezes. "Seoul?" he asks. Yoongi hates how small his voice sounds.

"Yeah."

"As in, on the other side of the country Seoul?"

"Yeah."

Jimin blinked slowly, then cast his gaze to the floor. "Oh."

Another pause. "When do you leave?" His voice shakes.

"Thursday."

The look on Jimin face as he snapped his head up broke Yoongi's heart for the thousandth time that day.

"But...but my competition-"

"I know."

"You said you'd be there."

"I know, I-" Yoongi's hands tangle roughly in his hair, "-, I'm so sorry Jiminie. I really, really wish I could be there but...but I can't." A stray tear slipped out of Yoongi's eyes. "I feel awful about it."

"You were supposed to help me through my first year of high school."

"I know."

"We were supposed to get an apartment together after I graduated."

"I know."

It was like Jimin's heart was beating in Yoongi's chest as well. He could feel every break, every tear like it was his own, and the pain was almost unbearable. Jimin bit his lips, and shifted his gaze to everywhere but Yoongi's face, like he wanted to say something else but didn't know if he should. Eventually he just threw his arms around him, and buried his face in the crook of his neck and shoulder, breathing in heavily. Yoongi wrapped his arms around him and pulled them back so they were laying down, Jimin situated halfway on top of him, and tightened his grip. He could feel Jimin shaking, and he could feel the wetness on his neck. Yoongi his hair softly.

"This isn't the end," he whispered into his hair. "As soon as I graduate, I'm coming back here. I'm coming back for you."

Jimin didn't respond verbally, but Yoongi felt his grip tighten, and that was enough for him.

Jimin would always be enough for him.