YOONGI

“Taehyung, if you don’t get off that table, I’m going to drag you off by your ear.” Jin threatened as Taehyung knocked a shot glass over, soju spilling across the wooden table as his bare feet danced around the empty plates of food of what was once raw meat ready to be cooked.

Hobi eventually jumped up and joined him, breaking into a song while clashing the barbeque tongs in rhythm. Namjoon and Jungkook were arm in arm sitting on one side of the table, loudly chattering and laughing over an incident that must have occurred in one of their classes. Jin was busy scolding Taehyung and Hobi to calm down and prevent himself from secondhand embarrassment.

Yoongi sat beside Jimin who had a wide grin on his face. He wasn’t as entirely drunk as the rest of the boys, but having quite a few shots left his cheeks flushed and happily swaying back and forth. Yoongi only had two shots despite being able to handle alcohol quite well in order to keep his mind in place and remember the promise he made to Jimin about his curfew.

“So I heard the new hair was all Jimin’s idea. It’s better than the poop color it used to be.” Namjoon, whose cheeks were very flushed, suddenly blurted, his hair stuck up in the air from his hand constantly running through it. Something told Yoongi that he didn’t have just one bottle of soju.

“Yeah, it didn’t turn out as bad as I thought it would. I might keep it for a while, maybe I’ll change it before Jimin gets his sight back so he doesn’t get to make fun of it.”

He felt Jimin slap across his arm with a pouty expression that made him look like a kid. “You wouldn’t do that! Keep the color…I need to see it. Pretty please?” Jimin begged before going for another shot. He quietly hissed at the burn of the alcohol and set the glass back on the table.

“What happened to your eye though? Did you get into a fight?” Jin asked, eyeballing a polka dot band aid that covered a small cut over Yoongi’s eyebrow.

“I had a small incident, nothing major.”

“He defended me when we went out a few days ago. Fought with some big, angry man because I accidentally ran into their table. Yoongi is such a great person, but that idiot got hurt because of me.” Jimin ruffled Yoongi’s mint colored hair with a grin.

“Min Yoongi!” Taehyung crouched over in front of Yoongi on the table, shouting his name in a singsong voice, interrupting the conversation. He was clearly wasted. “Yoongi! Thank you for the all the drinks, you’re the actual best friend ever.” He squeezed Yoongi’s cheeks with his palms. “Look how cute you are.” Taehyung muttered while Yoongi pulled his face away, almost knocking him out of balance.

“I never said I was paying for the drinks, who on earth came up with that?” The entire group pointed their fingers at Taehyung and Jimin who only responded with innocent grins.

“And Jimin!” Taehyung boasted, holding up an empty bottle of soju in the air. “Congratulations to Jimin for his eye transplant in the future. You’ll be able to see this handsome face again!” Pointing to himself, the rest of the group groaned in disagreement but continued congratulating Jimin with loud cheers.

Yoongi understood why Jimin was so happy all the time, with all the unending support of his friends. But what he couldn’t understand though is why Jimin let himself suffer one day of the week for two years without anyone by his side. Why he would go through this alone.

“To Jimin!” Everyone rose their glasses, clinking them all together with a shout. They chugged down the clear liquid and slammed their shot glasses back down. Yoongi smiled at the sight around him, at how happy everyone was. Jimin beside him leaned against his shoulder; the grin never left his face since they entered the restaurant.

“Thank you, Yoongi.” He said quietly enough that only Yoongi heard it while everyone else was busy bickering with each other. “I really did need this after all, a guys night out.”

“It’s great timing too, a celebration to top it off. Eventually you’ll be able to see this idiot standing on the table.”

Jimin replied with a giggle as Yoongi ran a hand through his pumpkin hair before catching a glimpse of the time on his own watch. It was already 11:35. “Jimin.” He called out quietly, but he actually didn't want to say anything. Jimin was so distracted, he was too happy for Yoongi to ruin it. But if Jimin were to find out it was Saturday while he was outside of his safe zone, it could be a whole other sort of disaster to deal with.

“What's wrong?”

“It’s almost midnight.” He said with a tinge of regret as Jimin’s eyes widened, being pulled back into the harsh reality again.

“I should go.” Jimin suddenly started to gather his things. “I’ll call you guys okay? I need to get some sleep.” Everyone knew why he had to leave, but they ended the night on a lighter note.

“Sleep well Jiminie!” Taehyung wrapped his arms tightly around Jimin’s neck until he nearly choked. Everyone else proceeded with their farewells as Yoongi pulled some money out of his wallet, passing a few bills toward Jin while the rest of them screamed in delight. He waved goodbye to them and followed Jimin out of the restaurant. “Why are you following me?” Jimin came to a sudden halt.

“I’m not letting you go back alone.”

Jimin was far too tipsy to try to argue with Yoongi as he wobbled across the sidewalk. It just now occurred to Yoongi how disorienting it could be trying to walk somewhere drunk, let alone lacking eyesight.

“Here, get on my back.” Yoongi leaned down in front of Jimin, waiting for him to hop on.

“Why? I can get back just fine.” But drinking sure didn’t stop him from being stubborn. With a groan, Yoongi took his white cane and forced him on his back. He was so much lighter than he expected, his small frame fit perfectly against him.

The chilly air blew gently as Yoongi carried him toward the apartment. His arms wrapped around Yoongi’s neck and he could smell the alcohol that seeped out of Jimin’s skin. As they walked back, Jimin happily hummed a song to himself.

When they reached the apartment, he set Jimin down on his own bed, watching him wriggle into the comforter. A hand reached out and grabbed his sleeve. “Yoongi…Min Yoongi.” He called out in a low voice.

“What?”

Jimin pulled hard enough that Yoongi fell onto the bed, accidently rolling on top of tipsy kid. “Stay with me tonight. Please.” His voice cracked. He knew Jimin was going to break anytime now.

He looked down at Jimin between his arms, glancing into his colorless eyes, imagining what they would have looked like, or will look like with color in them again. His cheeks were flushed with a bright shade of red and his eyes were half lidded from a mixture of exhaustion and the effects of alcohol. His pumpkin hair was a ruffled mess, blame Taehyung for constantly playing with it and he had forgotten to take off his coat. Something about seeing him like this made Yoongi’s cheeks burn and a bundle of nerves knot up deep in the pit of his stomach.

But amongst all that, he could see the fear growing across his face. It wasn’t obvious, but Yoongi knew it was there.

Jimin’s hands moved up Yoongi’s arms until they came in contact with his flushed, hot cheeks, gently identifying his facial structure, knowing that Jimin was painting an image of his face in his mind. “Please, stay?” He begged again.

Right there, at the very moment as Yoongi’s heart pounded painfully against his chest, he realized that he would do just about anything for this boy. Anything to make him happy, anything to see a smile on his face every day.

He couldn’t tell if he should be happy or angry that a person like Park Jimin walked into his life and caused him to go through all sorts of unexplainable emotions and confusing feelings since day one. That his heart throbbed every time he saw him. That his warm smile gave him this weird mushy feeling inside of him. That he may have utterly and completely fallen for the pumpkin haired boy.

Yoongi couldn’t tell if it was the few shots of alcohol that’s making him overthink it at the moment or if it was the intense feeling that hung between the two every time they were together now.

But one thing he was certain of was that he was never going to tell Park Jimin.

It was one less thing to burden him with.

He leaned over, lying down on the bed beside Jimin. “Of course I’ll stay.” He ran his hand carefully through the soft, pumpkin hair as Jimin scooted himself closer. Tightly, he wrapped his arms around Yoongi’s waist, nuzzling his nose into his neck. As if right on cue with the clock, he could hear him sniffle quietly, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

But what he didn’t expect was that within the next five minutes, he heard heavy breathing from him. Not the panicked, hyperventilating kind.

He was sound asleep, his chest rising up and down slowly. His fingers didn’t tremble; he wasn’t curled up in a ball, muttering about how painful it was. No, Jimin just slept peacefully, wrapped up under Yoongi’s arms.  

And he couldn’t help but grin widely. This was probably the most peaceful sleep Jimin had ever gotten on a Saturday in the past 2 years.

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But it didn’t last long.

Jimin shot up from the bed early that morning, close to 4 or 5 am fully awake, fully sober. He screamed incoherent words that woke up Yoongi with alert.

Groggily, he reached out for Jimin’s figure in the darkness, pulling him back down beside him. The boy shivered in his arms, his skin growing cold and clammy.

“Hey, remember how you asked me if I had any secrets?” Yoongi asked, searching for a way to put his mind off of the accident. Jimin didn’t reply, but Yoongi knew he was listening, so he continued. “You were right, everyone does have a secret. Including me.”

The room was silent and still, they were safe in their dark space.

“I have self esteem issues.” He suddenly began. “I can’t look into a mirror without feeling disgusted, or sick to my stomach. That’s why I tried dyeing my hair, or piercing my ears. I even got a tattoo a few years back, I tried to change the little things that might make it easier, but it hasn’t really done much for me.”

“But…” Jimin interrupted, “You’re perfect as you are.”

“That’s very touching, but how would you even know?”

“I don’t need to be blind to know, Yoongi.” Jimin sighed. “I’m sorry for all the times I’ve ever said something bad about your appearance.”

“Jimin, you don’t need to apologize.” Yoongi’s fingers gently combed through Jimin’s soft locks. “You didn’t know.”

“But I must have hurt you. You should have told me before.” Jimin’s cloudy eyes seemed like they were searching for Yoongi’s in his own darkness.

“But now you know.”

This was the most Jimin had ever spoken on a Saturday. Yoongi couldn’t abandon this opportunity to try and get him to move around, or to continue to talk about things that didn’t relate to the accident. He pushed away his own thoughts and sat up on the bed.

“Hey, how are you feeling right now?”

“I’m…I’m okay. I’m still scared, but I'm okay.”

It was the dead of the night; there were no sounds of traffic or the usual chirping of the birds greeting the coming of dawn. Even the wind had grown still, as if it knew it would send a shiver down Jimin’s spine if he had heard it whistle.

“Yoongi I think…I think I want a cup of tea.”

“I’ll go heat up the water.”

“No.” Jimin cut him off, his eyes staring blankly in the direction of Yoongi’s dark ones. “I meant, I’ll come with you.”

“What?” 

“Yoongi, I want to try it.”