The first week in Seoul was just as horrible as Yoongi figured it would be.

His new school was exceptionally bigger than his old one back in Daegu, which only had about 900 students, whereas this school held almost 3000, and walking through the halls was an absolute nightmare. There were too many people, and too much body heat circulated through the confined areas and it made Yoongi feel claustrophobic. It definitely didn't help that he was short, and was shoved into the nearest wall whenever somebody thought he was moving too slow. Unfortunately for him, this was often.

It was currently lunch time, and Yoongi was sat at an empty table in the far corner by the windows, nibbling on his food. He hasn't had much of an appetite since the move, and spent more time watching his classmates around him than he did eating. They talked to each other about nothing, yet laughed and smiled like it was the funniest thing they've heard all week, and it was strange to him how everybody seemed so at ease with the person next to them, like socializing was second nature, but no matter how often he watched he could never quite understand how it worked. How did the conversation flow so naturally? How do you talk to people without being constantly worried about what to say next? Seeing people interact like that, so seamlessly, Yoongi felt a pang of jealousy. He's only ever been able to do that with one person, and that person was all the way in Daegu.

He hasn't tried to talk to anybody directly yet, but from how he's been treated so far he wasn't sure if he wanted to. Whenever he would try to talk in class or make a joke, it was met with awkward chuckles or worse, wasn't acknowledged at all. It reminded him too much of when he was younger, before he met Jimin, when he was nothing more than that weird, quiet kid. 

He pushed his food around his tray with his chopsticks for a few more moments before he decided he was done and got up to throw his food away, and exited the cafeteria. Being around people enjoying each other's company while simultaneously not giving a damn about his was too much to handle right now. He knew he was lonely. He didn't need it shoved in his face.

Outside the cafeteria the ceiling was too high, and the walls were too far apart, and the hallways seemed to go in forever. Everything was so much bigger here. From the buildings to the houses, from the schools to the parks, and so forth.

(As if Yoongi didn't feel small enough already.)

He walked along the waxed tile floor for what seemed like hours (even though he knew in reality it was only a few minutes) until he came across an empty classroom and decided to camp out in it until his next period class.

He plopped himself down in the desk most hidden from the door, and dropped his head on it as he sighed heavily to himself. He was trying so hard not to hate this. Like, really hard not to hate this but the more he thought about it the more he felt a simmering rage in the pit of his stomach. He was angry at his dad for moving him all across God's green earth in the middle of his sophomore year when everybody his age already has their friends and weren't looking for anymore, he was angry at himself for being socially awkward, and he was angry at the kids here who paid him no mind, even in the off change that he did open his mouth.

And above all else, he really ing missed Park Jimin.

It's officially been eight days since he's last seen the boy in person. Sure they've been texting, and they facetimed a couple times but it wasn't anywhere near the same as physically being there. The brightness of his smile and the twinkling lilt of his laughter that sounded like wind chimes weren't things that could be captured through a screen. Being able to touch him, hold him when he was needy, feel him in his arms...he was already yearning for it again, and it's only been eight days. Eight damn days, and he felt like he was dying.

He took out his phone, and scrolled through Jimin's and his messages, until he reached the one he was looking for: the one with the video from his competition attached to it, and clicked play. The first time he saw it, Yoongi was knocked breathless. He knew Jimin was good, but this...this was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. The way Jimin moved so languidly to the music, how his moves managed to be sharp and powerful yet fluid and smooth at the same time was unbelievable. Yoongi didn't know much about dance, but he knew Jimin was exceptional for his age, if the selca of him with his first place medal that he sent right after was anything to go by.

He watched Jimin move through the music with a sad smile on his face. His heart swelled with the pride of seeing his best friend and the boy he loved fully sheathed in the thing he cared about most. He knew how much Jimin loved dance, and the younger even once told him that he thinks he wants to be a professional dancer one day, and seeing this, Yoongi knew he was well on his way. It's just a shame he wasn't there to see it in person. He's sure it was even better.

The sound of the bell ringing through the classroom cut off Jimin's music, and Yoongi groaned.

"God damn it," he said to no one.

Picking his backpack off the floor, he sauntered out of the empty classroom and and into the hallway that was already too crowded. At least he only had two more classes left.

-

The sound of chopsticks clanging against plates was the only thing that could be heard at the dinner table, and Yoongi didn't know if he appreciated it or hated it. It was nice that there was peace and quiet after the week he's had, but the air was thicker than honey, and he was pretty sure that it was due to the fact that they were all adjusting to everything but still. Awkward. 

It was never this tense at Jimin's house.

"Yoongiyah, pass me the kimbap please?" his mom asked.

Yoongi reached for the pot of kimbap when his dad spoke up.

"You don't have to say please, he's the child. He should do what you say regardless."

Well.

"I just want to make sure he understands basic manners, even when he's the elder," his mom replies coolly.

His dad scoffs a little and turns to him. "So, Yoongi. How's school going?"

Yoongi decides that he appreciated the silence more. He passes the pot to his mom as he answers.

"Um, it's going okay." A lie. "I really like my classes." Another lie.

His dad smiles beatifically. "That's good to here. Have you made any new friends your age yet?" He puts a weird emphasis on 'your age.' 

Yoongi gulps. His eyes wander all around the room, until they land on his mom. She's giving him an odd look, but he's not quite sure what it means. "Um, not yet. But there are some pretty cool people in my history class that I can see myself becoming very close with." He lies again. History is his least favorite subject out of all of them, and the people in the class are even worse.

Apparently his dad can't seem to tell when he's lying though, because he's wearing a smug look that screams 'I told you so.'

"I knew you'd like it here," he says. His tone of voice is just as patronizing as his expression. But he can't say anything about it because he's the child, and that's not his place.

They finish dinner quickly after that, even though Yoongi didn't feel like eating much anymore, and he retreats to his new room to start his homework for the weekend. Because it's the middle of the school year the work load has picked up to full force and despite him being new and his classes being a little different than his old ones he was expected to keep up with everything, so he still had to do well.

Or at the least, do his very best.

He's working on algebra problems when he hears a soft knock on the door.

"Yoongiyah, can I come in?"

His pencil pauses in the middle of writing a 4. "Uh..sure?"

His mom opens the door carefully, and tiptoes in like she's sneaking in and quietly closes it behind her and leans against the door. Yoongi raises an eyebrow at her, but she only slightly smiles and shrugs back. "Doing homework?" she asks innocently.

"Yeah...?" his voice inflects.

She nods, more to herself than to him, and looks around the room, notably avoiding Yoongi's eyes, which could only mean she wants to ask him something. He knows, because he does the same thing, but he doesn't say so. Instead, he waits, because he knows they also both hate being rushed.

After about 40 seconds of just her standing there, she turns to him and asks, "How's school, Yoongiyah?"

He knit his eyebrows together. "It's going good I guess. I said so at dinner."

"How's school?" she asks again, more stern, and at this point Yoongi's thoroughly confused and has no idea where this is going. 

"I told you, it's fine-"

"The truth, Yoongiyah," she cuts him off a little harshly, and Yoongi sinks down into his desk chair.

So that's where this is going.

He shifts his eyes away for a brief second to stare at the math on his desk, suddenly unable to look at her. When he does finally look back she's staring at him with softer eyes and eyebrows raised, waiting. He thinks back to the week he's had; to the lunches he's eaten alone, to the amount of times he's been shoved against lockers and walls already, to the times he's try to say something only to be ignored, and runs a hand over his face, suddenly feeling all of the weight of his stress on his chest.

"I hate it," he says honestly, and his voice cracks a little. "I hate the school. It's too big and it makes me feel like a dwarf. I hate the kids, everybody's already written me off again and I don't have any friends in my history class, I made that up. I hate this city, everything moves too fast and I feel like I have no time to myself to just slow down and take a breath and everybody's always rushing and pushing me but I have no one to talk to or hug me to make it better because the only person I ever felt comfortable enough to share my feelings with is all the way in ing Daegu!"

He doesn't realize tears have fallen until his mom is by his side and wiping them with her sleeve. She doesn't reprimand him for cursing. Instead, she gathers him in her arms and holds him close to her chest, rubbing small, tight circles into his back. The scent of her perfume is something floral and calming, like jasmine, or maybe lavender. Whatever it is, it's regulating Yoongi's breathing.

When he's calmed down enough, she leads them to Yoongi's bed so they're more comfortable. He's not in her arms anymore, but she keeps a protective arm around his shoulders.

"I really miss Jimin," he says, voice barely above a whisper.

"He's your best friend, I know how much you miss him."

"No, I-" Yoongi shakes his head frantically. "It's more than that."

His mom stops talking, and her eyes shift to the side for a second before gazing at him expectantly. Yoongi's palms start to itch, and he can feel his body gradually getting warmer from how fast his heart is pumping blood through his veins. He's thought about this moment so many times, how to time it, how to say it, if he would ever end up telling his parents in the first place. The fear is shaking his insides, but he's already said this much, and he's already miserable, so what does he have to lose? Might as well put the final nail in his coffin.

"It's more than that. I..." he gulps, but the dryness of his throat makes it painful, and looks away before he shuts his eyes tight. He doesn't want to see the look on her face when he breaks her heart. He can't see it.

"I miss him, but not just because he's my best friend. I-" He takes a deep breath. "I love him, mom."

Silence.

The only thing that could be heard for the next minute was Yoongi's breathing, and bile is rising up in his throat. His heart feels like it's trying to escape from his body and his vision is blurring with the threat of fresh, hot tears. He involuntarily flinches -expecting a hit - when he feels her arm slowly drop from his shoulder, and his stomach drops into his feet. She hates him now. Of course she does, why wouldn't she? She's probably looking at him like he's filthy, with so much disgust and shame, and that knowledge has him teetering on the edge of falling apart.

She still hasn't said anything yet. His nails bunch up the bed sheets as he braces himself for screaming, or something, but it doesn't come. His mind is about ten seconds from collapsing in on itself when she finally speaks again, so quiet he almost misses it.

"I know."

Yoongi whips his head around and stares at her wide eyed, and is shocked to find that she's not looking at him in disgust, or shame, but with understanding, and empathy.

With love.

"You know?" he squeaks.

She chuckles a little. "I've known since you were twelve, Yoongiyah. You're not the most subtle person."

"I'm not? Does dad know, too? Please don't tell him, mom. Please, please-"

"Hey hey hey, relax Yoongiyah." she gently cups his face. Her hands are soft and smooth, like silk. "I'm not going to tell your father anything. Your secret is safe with me."

Yoongi continues to breath heavily, but relief is slowly dousing the fire in his limbs. He's still warm, but it's less like he's being burned, and more like the comforting glow of the sun is wrapped around him like a blanket. Dropping his head into her shoulder, he tentatively encircles his arms around her, and holds her close. "Thanks, mom."

"Of course, sweety," she says as she returns the hug. "But, about the friend thing..."

Yoongi groans, already starting to bounce back to his usual demeanor. "I told you, the other kids don't like me. And I don't like them either."

"I know that's what you say," she said, exasperated, "but realistically speaking that can't be true for the entire school population. I'm sure there's somebody in the school that would like you. And what's not to like? You're a great kid, Yoongiyah," she reasons.

He huffs. 

"At least try, for me?" 

He huffs again. He can't say no when she pulls out the 'for me?' card.

"I...guess I can."

She smiles victoriously. "Thank you, Yoongiyah. Now go to sleep, it's late," she finishes with a small peck to his forehead, and tiptoes out of his room.

That night, Yoongi dreams about Jimin dancing in grass fields with flowers in his hair.

-

That following Monday morning Yoongi walks into school equipped with his biggest smile, his best charms, his only outfit with no neutral colors, and an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous, because he was actually pretty ing terrified, but he promised his mom he'd try again, and he'd be damned if he breaks any promises he makes to her. He practically owes her the rest of his life for promising to keep his uality a secret. Really, this is the least he could do.

He doesn't speak up much in class, deciding that while they're all trying to get an education is not the appropriate time or place to put his friend application out there, so he settles on the lunch period. It's social, and relaxed, and way easier for a turtle like himself to navigate. 

He stands with his tray of food, carefully looking out over the expanse of the cafeteria starting in the upper right corner and slowly making his way into the middle, where he comes across two boys talking and laughing over the noise of everybody else. One had really small eyes and slightly bucked teeth, and the other was sporting a Supreme beanie. They look nice, and chill and they were enjoying themselves so Yoongi shrugs and walks their way, thinking that they were probably harmless.

How wrong he was.

"Hey, mind if I sit here?" he asks in the most casual, confident voice he can muster when he's finally next to them.

"And all I'm saying is, if he didn't want me to floor it, he should have specifically said so. What does he expect putting me behind the wheel of a machine with 4 horse power?"

"Your poor dad though, you probably ruined the tires of his precious new baby."

It takes Yoongi a couple seconds to realize that they were continuing their conversation as if he hadn't said anything, and to say he was a little deflated was an understatement. But he was determined, so filling his lungs with air, and reasoning with himself that they probably just hadn't heard him he tries again, this time louder. "Can I sit here?"

The one with the small eyes flicks his gaze to him for a millisecond before looking at the one in the Supreme beanie. "Hanbin, do you hear something?"

The one in the Supreme beanie - Hanbin, apparently - tilted his head as if to try to hear better. "Hmm...nope, can't say I do, Bobby. But I do hear this annoying buzzing sound."

"Yeah...like, like a bee that you just wanna swat."

All of Yoongi's confidence was gone at this point. He could feel his face heating up but he couldn't tell if it was from anger or embarrassment, though it was probably a mix of both.

"Oh no, I think we really hurt his feelings," Bobby said, taking note of his red face, then chuckled a second later. Yoongi sunk further in on himself when Hanbin joined in, and then soon there was a low rumble of laughter from surrounding tables as they watched the scene unfold.

Yoongi was humiliated. He was completely and utterly humiliated and he wanted nothing more in this moment than to dump his tray of food on both boys, tell them to go themselves and walk right out of this damned school but that would probably land him in detention, or get him suspended, and he would rather not face the wrath of his father if he found out he got in trouble and lied so he bit his tongue, walked to the edge of the cafeteria and unceremoniously dumped the contents on it into the trash before walking out. 

He dipped into the same classroom he did on Friday, sat in the same desk, and put his head down, running his hands roughly through his hair and wondering what was wrong with him and why he was so disconnected. He's spent so many years watching other people to see how they do it, but whenever he tries to emulate it he falls flat or his words get jumbled, and they come out all wrong. He's tried so hard to be approachable, the kind of person who could just walk up to people and start talking to them like they've been friends for years. The kind of person who can talk to someone a total of twice and start referring to them as their best friend.

Like Jimin had with him all those years ago.

Yoongi smiles sadly at the thought of him. Jimin never brought up his occasional social ineptness. Jimin never made him feel weird for being a little different. Jimin always understood that just because he liked to be alone doesn't mean he doesn't get lonely. Jimin -

"Hey dude, you in here?" a voice cuts through Yoongi's thoughts, and he pops his head up just as another boy walks into the classroom. His black hair was styled up out of his face, and slightly spiked, enunciating his long face and nose, high cheekbones and heart shaped mouth. It was an odd combination of features, but they worked on him.

"Dude - Oh! There you are," the boy breaths out a sigh of relief and walks over to him with an easy smile. Yoongi recoils a little out of instinct. 

"Are you okay?" he asks as he seats himself on the desk in front of Yoongi, who's sort of stunned silent. He wasn't exactly expecting anybody to follow him.

"Don't worry about Hanbin and Bobby. They're kind of pricks to anyone who isn't each other," the other boy says when Yoongi doesn't answer. He still doesn't answer, and only stares at the boy in front of him, unsure what to make of him.

"I'm gonna guess you're not much of a talker, huh?"

Yoongi simply shrugs. 

"Can I get your name at least?"

He hesitates before answering. "Min Yoongi."

"Jung Hoseok," the other boy answers, and offers his hand. Yoongi takes it with the intention on shaking it, but Hoseok pulls him to his feet, and starts leading him to the door. 

"Wait, where are we going?"

"Back to the cafeteria. But you're gonna sit with me and my friends this time," he says, and starts pulling Yoongi by the hand back the cafeteria before he could object. 

Yoongi hangs his head when they breach the doors, still a little embarrassed and not wanting to look anybody in the face.

"Hold your head up," Hoseok voices.

"What?"

"You don't wanna let those s know they can treat you like trash. So hold your head up."

Yoongi doesn't know why he obeyed Hoseok so easily, but he did. He's only known the boy for literally no more than 5 minutes, but he has an aura about him that's exciting yet easygoing, and it does wonders for putting Yoongi's formerly anxious mind at ease. He walked with his head held high, and when he walked by Bobby and Hanbin's table, held it even that much higher, because why the not.

He finally drops his head a little when they reach a table with two other boys. One had the sides of his head shaved, and the hair that remained was dyed platinum blond. He smiled at Yoongi, and his dimples showed. The other was incredibly handsome, with nice plump lips that reminded Yoongi of Jimin's, and a head of fluffy brown hair. 

"Yoongi-ssi, this is Kim Namjoon," Hoseok pointed to the blond, "and this is Kim Seokjin hyung," he pointed to the brunette. "Guys, this Min Yoongi."

 Yoongi responds with a timid wave and a meek "hey."

The brunette - Seokjin - smiles at him warmly. "You should sit. We don't bite, I promise," he adds with a giggle.

"Well, I don't," Namjoon mutters under his breath. There's a thump from under the table and Namjoon winces, and then turns to Seokjin looking like a kicked puppy. Yoongi barely surpresses a laugh.

"Ignore this doofus," he says gesturing to Namjoon, "and you'll be just fine."

"Wow, we just met him and you're already turning him against me."

"You brought it on yourself, Joonie."

"You wound me."

"You still love me."

Namjoon sighs, but doesn't object.

"Don't mind them, they're like married or something," Hoseok states as he pulls Yoongi down onto the bench next to him. "So, Yoongi-ssi, tell me about yourself."

Yoongi's eyes immediately go to the floor as he scratches the back of his neck. Everything was happening so fast. He felt a lot like a deer in headlights. "Oh um, well I...uh," he tried to speak, but couldn't think of anything to say. Mainly, he couldn't think of anything interesting  to say, because as far as he was concerned, he wasn't interesting. He didn't have many hobbies due to his father telling him that they were a waste and only distracted him from his studies. He liked to write occasionally, but people don't really care about that.

"Hey," Hoseok's voice had him looking up again. "If you don't want to say anything yet, that's fine. I've been told I can talk enough for three people anyways," he adds with an easy laugh. It's an infectious sound, that has Yoongi laughing too.

"Yeah, we're just happy to see you not eating by yourself anymore," Seokjin voices.

"What they said," Namjoon says. Hoseok snorts a little, and Seokjin rolls his eyes. 

The rest of the lunch period continues like that, with easy conversation and the occasional question thrown Yoongi's way. They don't pressure him, or make him feel weird for occasionally stuttering over his answers and they always gave him their full attention when he's speaking. He didn't feel completely comfortable yet, but he definitely felt more at ease.

When they invite him to eat lunch with them again tomorrow, he didn't hesitate to say yes.

-

Yoongi ends up eating lunch with them for the rest of the month, and over that month he opens up little by little. By the 28th of January they knew he was from Daegu, that he was an only child and a sophomore. 

("So that makes you Namjoon and I's hyung then? Can we call you that?" Hoseok had asked.

"I don't see why not," Yoongi asnwered.)

They also knew about how he liked to write, and Yoongi even decided to be a little bold and show them a few of his poems that they were, to Yoongi's surprise, really impressed by. He hasn't even showed Jimin any of his poems yet (though he rationalized that by thinking it would be a bad idea to show your poems to the subject of said poems). 

"These are amazing, hyung," Hoseok said in awe. "Like, seriously amazing. I honestly would've never guessed from how quiet you are."

He didn't say it with malice, so Yoongi wasn't offended by it. He simply shrugged and said, "Words come easier to me when I write them down. I don't really know how to explain it, it's just, something about being alone with my own thoughts that makes it so much simpler because there's no pressure to say the right thing."

Hoseok stared at him with barely concealed amazement before he smiled. "Well whatever the reason, you have a real gift." 

Yoongi walked with his head a little bit higher that day.

He also found out some stuff about them too, like how Hoseok was a dancer like Jimin - albeit a hip hop dancer and not a modern dancer, but still a dancer - and was the only freshman in the group. Namjoon, even though younger than Hoseok, was a sophomore like himself because apparently he was a genius with an IQ of 148 and skipped a grade. Seokjin was the oldest, a junior, and had an affinity for all things food. All of his lunches were made by him, and Yoongi found himself looking forward to the days he was willing to share a little (even though he shared with Namjoon all the time, which Yoongi found just a bit unfair).

The topic of his uality hasn't come up yet.

Hoseok, Namjoon and Seokjin seemed like nice enough people, and they clearly weren't judgmental if they kept him around for this long, but it was still information he wasn't willing to readily disclose. 

It wasn't until February 14th - Valentines Day - that he realized he was being an idiot.

The hallways had been decorated with pink, red and purple hearts. It took a lot of willpower on Yoongi's part not to gag. It's not that he didn't like or appreciate romance - he was actually a big softie when it came to it - he just preferred his romance to take place in private. He didn't see the point in public grand gestures when small intimate moments were so much more satisfying. 

He walked into cafeteria that day to only see Hoseok at the lunch table.

"Where are Namjoon and Seokjin hyung?" he asked as he sat down.

"They're gonna be a little late, they're probably at one or the others lockers exchanging gifts."

"Gifts for what?"

Hoseok looked at him quizically, and then chuckled. "You're funny, hyung." Hoseok went back to eating, leaving Yoongi confused.

It wasn't until Namjoon and Seokjin walked into the cafeteria about five minutes later, hands linked and giving each other heart eyes did Yoongi understand.

That still didn't stop him from asking "You guys are together?" like a when they sat down.

"You mean you couldn't tell," Seokjin asked with a disbelieving raised eyebrow.

"Wait, you really didn't know?" Hoseok asked next.

"Um..." Yoongi thought back to their interactions and he could easily tell that they were close, that much was obvious to anyone with working eyes, he just didn't realize that they were this close. As he thinks about it more though, he figures it was always there, and his own emotional constipation just made him that ing dense. 

"Wait, that's not a problem with you is it?" Namjoon asks, his tone bordering on threatening.

"No no no!," Yoongi quickly answered as he shook his head and put his hands up in innocence. "It's not a problem at all. Um..." all the blood in his body rushed to his face. God, this was embarrassing. "I uh...me too? Actually..." he drifted off. Seokjin, Namjoon and Hoseok all stared at him, processing his words. Hoseok was the first one to break the silence. Of course he was.

"Huh, I must be like, a gay magnet or something," he laughed. "Hey, is anyone else in this school a homoual?" Seokjin and Namjoon laughed with him, and Yoongi realized belatedly that he was trying to ease his nerves with jokes. He didn't laugh, because he didn't want to look like even more of an idiot by laughing too late, but a smile did break out on his face.

"Are you gay too?" Yoongi asked out of pure curiosity.

"Me? Nah, I'm actually embarrassingly whipped," he retorted. Someone that sounded like Seokjin muttered an "ew." "I don't have a problem with gay people though. I mean that's obvious, since I'm friends with you three."

Yoongi blinked a couple times. "We're friends?" he asked, his voice small but hopeful. 

Hoseok smiles close lipped and puts his around him, pulling him into his side. "Of course we're friends."

-

"And you said he was a dancer like me?" The Jimin on the screen of his laptop asked into his headphones. His hair was ruffled and messy, and his cheeks took up most of the screen, but Yoongi could tell he was wearing a white tank top.

"Yeah. Hip hop though, not modern," Yoongi answers. Jimin smiles, the one that Yoongi loves the most; the one that reaches his eyes. 

"I'm not gonna lie, I was a little worried about you. I know how you are with new people," Jimin's voice takes on a  quieter, gentler register, "but I'm glad you found a group who were willing to look past all that and see the Yoongi hyung I know."

Yoongi's heart picks up, and he's completely unable to keep the grin off his face. "Me too," he says softly. They sit in silence for a while, basking in the ability to see each and talk to each other even if it was through a computer screen, before Yoongi speaks up again, "How are Taehyung and Jungkookie?"

"We're great!" a voice shouts in Yoongi's headphones, and Jimin jumps as Taehyung and Jungkook's face invade Yoongi's screen.

"I thought you two were asleep," Jimin whines. Yoongi laughs at him.

"Nope, we were eavesdropping the whole time," Jungkook explains. "Hi hyung!"

Yoongi snorts. "Hey brat," he said in the most affectionate way possible, "You staying out of trouble? Listening to Jimin and Tae?"

He says yes at the same time Jimin and Taehyung say no. Yoongi shakes his head fondly.

"Yeah, well you better start. They're good people. They can teach you a lot."

"Yeah yeah yeah," Jungkook answers with a dramatic head roll and floats off the screen. Yoongi laughs

"Are you two taking care of each other like I told you to?" he addresses Jimin and Taehyung.

Jimin goes to answer but Taehyung beats him to it. "All have you know, I take my role as vice president of the Protect Jimin Squad very seriously."

"I'm guessing I'm the president, then?"

"No, Jungkookie is."

"Hey! You're lucky I'm all the way in Seoul, Kim Taehyung."

"Oh please, you'd never hurt your precious little dongsaeng," he says, putting his hands under his chin and batting his eyelashes.

Yoongi huffs, because he's right. He never would. 

"Just go to sleep already," he says meekly.

"Love you too, hyung," Taehyung giggles, and filters out of the screen, leaving just Yoongi and Jimin again. "You should probably get to sleep too. It's late," Yoongi said.

"Yeah...I should..." Jimin said back, but still hesitates to end the Skype call. Yoongi doesn't want to end it either. 

He's staring at Jimin stare at the his matress, bite his lips and twiddle his tiny thumbs when he looks up again.

"Hey hyung?" he asks, voice small.

"Yes, Jiminie?" he answers, voice just as small.

Jimin his lips. "I love you."

Yoongi's heart stops, and then starts beating a mile a minute. 

Of course, Yoongi knew in his head that Jimin didn't mean it in the way he wanted him to mean it. He was his best friend, of course he loved him. 

But that doesn't mean he can't pretend. 

"I love you too," he says back, his thumping heart making him sound winded. And he does. He loves Jimin so much. Jimin's smile is small and doesn't reach his eyes this time, but it's just as endearing. It's the last thing he sees before Jimin ends the Skype call.

Yoongi lays his head down and snuggles into his pillows, thinking that the next two years might not be so bad after all.