If I had a penny.

 

Jimin often pondered these phrases, thinking back to what sparked it. It was a simple joke, a phrase overused for when someone was spacing out. Yoongi had jokingly said it when Jimin had an unusual frown on his face as he stared at the black phone. The mere phrase shocked Jimin out of his numb state, but he quickly responded with a fake smile, something Yoongi could see through clearly. Yoongi didn’t want to push the younger boy in front of the others, knowing he’d only scare him further into his shell.

“How many pennies do you have?” Jimin jokes, his voice dry and somewhat bitter, another unusual thing for the orange haired boy.

Yoongi ponders Jimin’s words, looking around at the distracted members before turning back to Jimin with a serious expression, “More than enough if you tell me what’s wrong later.”

 

If I had a penny for how many friends have left me, I'd have at least a quarter.

 

It was only the first year of High School, but Jimin has lost too many friends to care anymore. He didn’t try to interact with meaningless conversations about school work and teachers when he could simply work alone. Friends have come and gone, not really caring about the small chubby kid that sat alone and spoke with an annoyingly high voice. Jimin has learned to stop caring about meaningless ties, knowing that most of them would break soon. There was friends that only got close to him to get something out of it, be it connections with underground dancing or simply an essay. The only person that didn’t seem to give up was a boy of similar height and part of the student council. Min Yoongi was surely a pushy person, and far more intimidating than what Jimin has heard. He really wanted Jimin to join the music club for some unknown reason, not giving the younger boy space until he complied.

All thoughts of losing friends and not caring to keep ties went out the window when Jimin found out Yoongi’s true intentions. At first he wanted to strangle the elder, but soon he grew to appreciate the actions taken. Jimin had to enjoy it anyway, since he was stuck in some new hip hop group. He wouldn’t admit this to the others, but he looked forward to this club after school, even if he kept his walls up. Jimin did loose the small friends he had gained that year, having them either judge him for joining a music club around Hip Hop or the fact that he was hanging out with a disliked member of the student council. Jimin didn’t really care though, happy with his new and possibly more stable group of friends.

 

If I had a penny for the amount of friends I have, I wouldn't even make a dime.

 

It was a small group of friends, not too large but enough to make them feel like a family. They started to form the second year of High School, all because of Min Yoongi’s scouting abilities. He found common ground with their deep love for music, and of course that they ended up in the same company when auditioning. Once news got out in school that Jimin was training to get into some secretive group, the school was buzzing. So many guys and girls would approach him, asking how he was or simply kissing up to him by saying how good he looked- even though it was just a school uniform. Though his rumors did bring people who only wanted him for money, that wasn’t the worst.

The worst had to be the people who wanted the small boy to feel like dirt underneath their shoes. Every time Jimin showed his face around them, they’d say small phrases like, “With someone that looks like that I’d hardly believe they’d make it far.” Which is usually followed by laughter and the quiet sound of Jimin’s heart breaking into small, sinking pieces, “He doesn’t even sing that well.” And when the harsh comments were said about Jimin, the people who would comment about how well he looked or asked how he was doing simply looked the other way.

There was only one day that he was stood up for, and that was the day that Yoongi found out. Jimin didn’t feel that it was necessary to tell the others, simple comments that seemed stupid to mention. Firstly, Jimin came to the conclusion that not telling Yoongi was a smart choice, since he found out the small marshmallow looking boy turned into the actual being of satan. Secondly, it was a small comment, not the first or the last time Jimin heard it, but still left an impression, “The group would probably do better without you dragging them down.” It was grumbled by a fairly tall and envious jock, his words intending to hurt the younger boy.

Jimin simply sighed, getting ready to go his own way when he feels his blood run cold as a low tone is heard, “Who says that he’s dragging us down?” Yoongi’s voice was hard to describe, a growl that undertoned his words and a new sense of intimidation and venom laced into them. There’s almost an aura of darkness surrounding the newly red haired boy as he approaches the jock, now a nervous and somewhat panicky look on the taller’s face. Before he was even allowed to defend himself, Yoongi pulls the younger boy into his side, “No one is dragging anyone down in this group. If anything, your jealous can’t simply comprehend that this boy is better than you’ll ever be.” he then drags Jimin away from the stunned male, making a beeline towards the club room and slamming the door shut behind him, “How long?”

“H-hyung- I… It’s not impor-”

“I said how long!” Yoongi repeats, cutting off Jimin completely. Jimin feels his heart jump to his throat, never having Yoongi’s intimidating side used against him. Even without the tone in Yoongi’s voice, Jimin stammers to speak when hearing the pure worry and annoyance in his voice, “Everything is important, Jimin. Every side comment, every insult that they say. You can’t just keep this to yourself.”

“It’s okay, Hyung, really... It’s not the first time I’ve heard this.”

There’s a pause in Yoongi’s voice, before a defeated sigh slips from his lips as he faces the ground, “That doesn’t make it okay.”

 

If I had a penny every time someone commented on my weight, I'd have enough to change it.

 

“You’re so chubby.”

“Look at all that stomach pudge”

“Wow, I see why your friends pity you…”

“Have you ever thought of working out?”

“The reason why you’re single is because of your… Extra fat.”

“Our little mochi.”

The words echoed in Jimin’s head as he pushes away the small amount of food on his tray. Some of the words were his own, others were comments that either intentionally were meant to hurt or simple off hand comments that meant no harm. Unknown to all that spoke of Jimin’s weight, each comment was taken to heart. Once taken to heart, Jimin takes it to action. It started firstly with skipping meals, dancing and working out instead of eating. He’d come home to his mom, trying to brush off her worried look as he skips dinner for the fifth night in a row. Jimin eventually started going to the other member’s houses, saying that he ate at home already and told his mom he ate with his friends. Everything was going smoothly, until one day with dance practice, where the lack of energy took it’s toll.

It was new choreography, Hoseok and Jungkook already getting the hang of it, Taehyung slowly catching on. Seokjin and Namjoon struggle a bit, both near the back and stumbling over a few steps. Out of everyone, Yoongi seemed to be the middleman, learning the steps slowly but not failing at them. Jimin, usually one of the persons that picks up quickly, was now stumbling over his own feet, Hoseok jokingly calling him out, “Chimchim! I think you’re spending too much time with Leadermon. His clumsiness is rubbing off on you!” the elder giggles, laughing joyfully as he slides through the steps with a fluid motion. The rehearsal continues, but now Jimin feels the eyes burning into the back of his head. He doesn’t have to turn to know that Yoongi is staring at him, the one observant member that doesn’t let small things like these slide. As the song repeats for what feels like the hundredth time, Jimin feels a slight dizziness in his head, ignoring it as he pushes through the chorus. Once he gets to the front middle, he throws his arm forward and mouths the line, freezing when he sees his reflection start to blur and drop towards the ground.

Jimin wakes up in a bed, eyes looking around the room as he tries to piece together what happened. He knew he passed out, but for how long? Who picked him up? How much rehearsal is he missing? A slight thump is felt at the side of his head, making him wince and rub the recently hit spot. “Ow!”

“That’s what you get punk.” Yoongi grumbles, before holding the younger’s chin with his hand, “God… When’s the last time you ate? You’re all skin and bone. You barely weigh anything… Jesus Jimin don’t do this to yourself.” there’s a scolding tone in his voice, but it’s softened by the worry that is shown on the older member’s face as he continues to examine the younger’s body. Jimin feels his heart speed up, a new insecure feeling bubbling in his stomach as he feels every inch of skin showing burn up, “I don’t see why you do this Jiminie… You’re already beautiful.” Yoongi’s voice comes out in a whisper, but it sends Jimin’s heart racing.

“Then you need to get your eyes checked… Look at all this… this fat.” Jimin mutters out sadly, pinching and poking at the skin on his stomach and arms, “How can this be beautiful…” he asks, not really expecting an answer, but knowing Yoongi would give one anyway.

“Aish, this punk. Listen here, Park Jimin, you are pretty ing beautiful. I don’t care who got those disgusting thoughts into your mind, but you are not ugly. You’re not fat, you’re not a waste of space. You are above average in looks, whether it be you’re adorable face that just screams innocence when you’re zoned out, or how damned seductive you look when you’re confident in your dancing. You’re a ing human being like everyone else. Even if there seems to be the personality of a puppy inside of you.” Yoongi grumbles the last sentence under his breath, not really caring if Jimin heard him or not.

“Thank you… Yoongi hyung.” Jimin whispers out, a small smile forming on his lips.

 

If I had a penny for every time I felt uncomfortable in my own body, I'd have millions, enough to make mountains.

 

Jimin repeats the same steps over and over, a grimace on his face as he feels his stomach seem to jiggle around. He looks down towards his flawed body, pulling at the thick skin that destroys his mood. Without even noticing it, Yoongi walks up from behind him and rests his chin on Jimin’s shoulder, “Jiminie~ Stop that.” He has a cheerful, almost teasing tone in his voice, but it’s clear that there is a command in his words. With a defeated sigh, Jimin lets his hands fall to the side, not before giving his fat one last tug as he calculates all the flaws on him. Yoongi gives Jimin a gummy grin as he pecks the younger’s cheek, “Remember, I act like this so you feel better. Don’t let my aegyo go to waste.”

It’s been like that for a while now, everytime Jimin feels sad or self destructive, Yoongi’s the one to calm him down, usually with some cute action or hugging it out of him. Jimin’s grown used to the constant affection, but refuses to speak his heart. Every time Yoongi hugs him and mutters simple phrases to cheer him up, Jimin can’t help but want more. He knew that he could have a chance with Yoongi, but he was always putting himself into denial and doubting himself. Yoongi wouldn’t like someone as chubby as him. Yoongi wouldn’t like someone who’s so flawed. Yoongi deserves better than him, “Stop it hyung…” He mumbles out, the clear exhaustion in his voice only making the older want to hold onto him tighter.

“You know what Jiminie. No, I will not stop. You have been practicing this dance for the past hour now, and you could now probably do it backwards and in your sleep if I don’t stop you now. You need a break, come back to my place, it’s a Saturday. Saturdays are meant to be filled with hours of relaxing and cuddling.” Yoongi flashes his gummy smile as his hands snake around Jimin’s waist. Jimin’s about to reject the offer, but freezes when they lock eyes in the mirror. He feels his heartbeat increase rapidly, a slight blush appearing on his sun kissed cheeks, “See, what’s the harm in it?” he asks, before pecking Jimin’s cheek once more as he pulls the younger out to his bicycle.

Almost as if time just glitched it’s way through Jimin’s memory, Jimin finds himself sitting on Yoongi’s couch, curled up against the blonde as some drama plays in the background. Jimin felt… comfortable for once. He felt at peace, in the arms of the rapper who is a big blunt marshmallow. Jimin finds himself laughing at the cheesy dialogue, yawning when the exhaustion truly sinks in. Before he completely submerges into his dream world, he feels a pair of lips lightly press onto his forehead and a low goodnight spoken barely above a whisper.

 

If I had a penny every time I heard a negative comment about me, I'd have enough to pay them to stop.

 

“I don’t even see why Jimin is in the group, they’d be way better without him.”

“He’s seventh place in looks for a reason.”

“Jimin’s voice is so high and shrill, how do the others put up with it?”

“I can’t wait until he comes over, he’ll meet my gun!”

The emotionally destructive comments weren’t new to Jimin, but the amount they came in were something completely different. When Jimin was younger, he could handle a couple of side comments aimed at him, but now the 1’s and 0’s that hide the perpetrators’ faces show no sugar coating. They’re blunt, they’re harsh, and they leave nothing to be defended. The others don’t know that Jimin spends his free time reading these, but the more Jimin reads the more he agrees. He scrolls through the twitter feed, only seeing the hateful comments aimed towards himself. There were even a few death threats scattered in there, scaring Jimin but not enough for him to take action. Even when he live streams, all he gets is people asking for the other members. What Jimin finds the worst out of all of this is the fact that he can’t bring it up without feeling guilty. Based off of polls, he is the third most liked on some websites, which means his Hyungs might deal with much more than he receives. Jimin wishes he could be strong like his hyungs, Hoseok continues to smile, Namjoon overcame his depression, Jin continued to eat, and Yoongi made a mixtape that got thousand of positive reviews.

“What are you reading?” The same voice he always hears comes from over his shoulder, Jimin’s reactions not fast enough to turn off the phone. There’s a disappointed sigh, Yoongi taking the phone and scrolling through the comments, “So many Antis… They just need to get a life and stop abusing someone they don’t know.”

“Hyung it’s not that-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. Off all the members, I know these comments hurt you a lot.”

“They don’t hurt just me. I know Hoseok hyung struggles a lot, he just is better at keeping his mood up…”

“There’s a difference.”

“Huh?”

Yoongi sighs, typing on Jimin’s phone before handing it back to him. Instead of all the hate comments, it’s fans’ tweets about how much they love the group and how everyone in the group matters, “Hoseok doesn’t forget about this side of fame.”

Jimin stares at the screen blankly, knowing the fans are doing their best to support them, but still not recovering from his mood, “I know they say this. But it feels like it’s just lies. The antis speak the truth-”

“They speak opinions.” Yoongi cuts him off, his expression serious and pouring out sincerity, “Opinions are worse than the truth. The truth is facts, that can be changed with evidence and new findings, opinions are personal. Opinions can only be changed with persuasion and logic.” He sighs, rubbing his forehead, “If you’re stubborn enough, the negative opinions will stick with you much longer than the positive ones. This is what separates you from Hoseok. Hoseok lets go of the negative comments, he still remembers them but he counters all the negativity with the positive comments. You just look at the negative ones and mentally destroy yourself!” Yoongi was visibly frustrated, the disappointment in his eyes was just the worry he held for the younger.

“I know hyung…”

“Do you also know that I ban you from using your phone without my permission?”

“What-”

“Hyung’s rules.” Yoongi plucks the phone from out of Jimin’s hands, “You’re not to be left alone with your phone the moment we all have to sleep. If you want to use it past you’re new curfew, you must give a solid reason as to why.” Jimin was speechless, the loss of his phone barely affecting him, but it’s the fact that Yoongi has already thought up a schedule. He only nods, barely missing the mumble under his hyung’s breath, “At least I didn’t have to use aegyo this time.”

 

If I had a penny every time I was feeling sad or numb, for no reason other than hating myself, I couldn't even count the piles.

 

It was simple, Jimin can hide away in his room and avoid everyone or go and rehearse the choreography alone until he can’t feel his feet. He choose the ladder, like always. If he doesn’t want to talk to anyone and work away the layers of fat, he could dance. It also helps improve his skills, which weren’t much to amount for in his own views.

It had to be around 1am, Jimin sweating as he goes over the step once more, his frustration bringing tears to his eyes. He wants to scream, cry, go home, but he won’t. He doesn’t want to be more of a let down than before. There are blisters forming on his feet, even one of his toes is bleeding, but he’s not going to stop until he’s perfect. He’s dancing with all his strength, anything he could muster when his limbs burn and beg for him to stop. He faintly hears the door open and close, assuming he’s hearing things since no one would be awake at this hour and come to dance. He had made sure of that. Or at least, he thought he had.

“Jimin.” He turns around, heart jumping into his throat as he trips, the surprise sending him to the ground. He doesn’t make a sound, other than his pants. He stares up at Yoongi with wide eyes. Yoongi has his same cat like stare on his face, a small frown tugging on his lips as he scans over the younger boy’s condition, “You’re crying.” he mumbles. The newly mint haired boy crouches down, taking his hand and lightly wiping away the wet streaks on Jimin’s cheeks.

“...Was I?” Jimin whispers out, only now feeling the puffiness in his eyes and the slight stinging, “I didn’t know…” He hears a light sigh from above, watching as Yoongi sits on the floor in front of him.

“It happened again… Didn’t it.” It wasn’t a question, Yoongi being able to read Jimin perfectly.

Instead of verbally responding, Jimin just nods his head lightly. The older member doesn’t hesitate to make his way towards Jimin, ignoring the thin layer of sweat that covers his body. Yoongi’s hugs always smelled nice to Jimin. There wasn’t ever a specific smell he could put his finger on, but it smelled like Yoongi. Jimin felt more tears pool up, the pain in his feet finally sinking into his mind. Jimin didn’t mean to bottle these emotions up, the wall of numbness just suppressing himself from expressing anything other than a neutral mood. The comfort from the hug and the pure emotions just overwhelming Jimin’s mind sends him past the edge. He starts sobbing, the frustration that’s built up over the week, for himself or others, the pain he’s felt, physically and mentally, the exhaustion that forced him to sleep with dark thoughts, the warmth he feels from the other members, Yoongi in specific, the selfish thoughts that plague his mind whenever the older member gets too close to him. Jimin sobs out for all the emotions he’s bottled up.

 

If I had a penny for every time I had cried myself to sleep, I'd be able to buy a new pillow every night.

 

Jimin tried to stay as quiet as he could, even though Yoongi was a deep sleeper. Jimin couldn’t help but let the salty tears drop as he turns off his phone, finding many comments about fans who love him, but even more of those who dislike him, even hate him. Jimin doesn’t know what he’s done wrong, he’s tried to change everything they hated. He’s gotten abs, he’s lost some of his cheek weight, he’s stopped talking as much, he’s danced until there were blisters on his feet, he’s smiled as he sang to the fans. He’s done better than his best, yet there are still those who dislike him. Even in the fandom, a joke that spits truth, he’s ranked 7th in looks. Jimin can’t help but let every joke that he’s heard just cling to his mind, the stubborn thought that each one holds a small amount of truth. His pillow is wet, his thoughts not only about hating himself, but now a feeling of loneliness. He hasn’t seen his family that much, missing out on his brother growing up, missing out on the average life of his parents. He’s surrounded by six people, his new family, but it doesn’t stop him from missing his actual family. He’s surrounded by thousands of fans, but no matter how loud the fan chants are, his room is still filled with a void of loneliness. His tears were silent, his body only shaking slightly as he holds back as many sounds as he can.

The sound of a bed creaking makes him freeze, his hand coming up to cover his mouth as he hopes it’s from another room. There are light footsteps, someone walking somewhere but Jimin doesn’t know who. The feeling of the side of his bed sinking down gives him his answer, an answer he wanted the least. The feeling of Yoongi’s hand through his hair, the sound of his hyung sighing, Jimin knew that his silence wasn’t that quiet. He moves to look up, but Yoongi keeps his head down.

“Jiminie,” the hand in his hair rubs small circles, lulling Jimin to sleep, “Don’t cry, Jiminie. You’re not alone here. You are a beautiful person. We care for you.” Yoongi doesn’t stop whispering supportive and comforting phrases, the circles being traced makes it hard for Jimin to stay awake. Yoongi doesn’t stop, continuing his praises and positive words. Jimin wants to cry again, to say that he doesn’t deserve it, but his mouth refuses to open, his vocal chords not agreeing with his mind. The only thing he can manage to do is let a small, breathy hum out. Yoongi doesn’t stop again, and Jimin can practically feel the tired smile his hyung is wearing, “Just sleep Jiminie. Hyung will be here for you.” With that, Jimin finally allows his eyes to shut, the warmth from Yoongi’s hands sending him quickly into his dreams.

When Jimin awoke the next morning, there is a light weight on his head, and a heavier one on his back. Yoongi really did stay.

 

If I had a penny for every time I doubted myself or someone else, my room would be filled.

 

It was the stage before “Perfect Man”, and Jimin couldn’t calm down. Repeating the same steps over and over, even though they were practically burned into his muscle memory. He wasn’t sure if he’d do well, not even feeling the slightest bit assure when Hoseok told him repeatedly that he’s going to be great. His worrying was clearly affecting the other members, the doubt also giving Jimin a feeling of guilt. He wants to stop worrying, but no matter how many times they go up on stage, he can’t stop imagining himself falling or missing a line. He’s already fallen a few times on live performances, those failures adding up to the doubt that prevents him from resting. Taehyung almost considered sitting down with Jimin in his lap so Jimin could sit down and calm down, but Yoongi just shook his head. Jimin continued to pace back and forth, going over the same set of moves he believes he’s having difficulty with. Eventually, Yoongi is pushed forward to stop him, Jimin still going over the steps as he wraps his arm around the younger’s shoulders.

    “Jimin, everything will be fine. If I can dance this, than it certain you can.” Yoongi knew the words he said wasn’t going to get to the younger boy, but it was worth a shot to distract him until the performance, “All you need to do is act confident, you’ve told this to Namjoon countless times. Even if you do mess up, don’t show it.” Jimin slowly nods along to his hyung’s words, remembering that these are all things he’s told others, “Besides, the moment fans see you, they’ll love you. You could probably just stand there and they’d scream until their voices gave out.” Jimin slowed to a stop, smiling and blushing in embarrassment.

“Stop it hyung…” the younger boy turned his head towards the ground, Yoongi knowing fully well that he’s won.

“If the fans don’t support you, know that I think you look hot in this outfit.” Yoongi then backs off, remaining with his normal poker face as he sits down. Jimin was stunned, a slight adrenaline rush taking over as his heartbeat skips a few beats. With a newfound confidence, Jimin runs through the dance once more in his mind before getting ready to go on stage.

 

If I had a penny for every time I've faked a smile, I'd have enough to build a city.

    The same smile on his face as fans pass by with their own ecstatic joy written clearly on their faces. Jimin feels happy for making others happier, but there’s still that nagging voice about those who dislike him hiding in the back. Fan by fan pass by, all of them having fairly similar reactions, either mumbling a quiet or shy hello and I love you or doing the same but with pride and excitement. There were the few odd ones out that would cry or faint, but the ones that stuck to Jimin the most were the ones who skipped him. They probably didn’t realize how much it would affect the short pink haired boy. Maybe they just didn’t notice, but every time the paper flies through his spot, Jimin feels the familiarity of the twitter comments coming back to him. He masks his uncomfortable prickling in his stomach as he smiles towards the next fan, drawing some attention from his little zone out expression. Smile, nod, thank you, sign, handshake, repeat. It was a simple process, almost becoming robotic until one fan slips a small envelope into his space. Full of curiosity, Jimin moves to open it, but is stopped quickly.

“Open it when you get back to the dorms. It shouldn’t be read here.” The male fan gushes out, Jimin quickly noticing that the fan sticks out slightly. In a sea of girls there is at least a handful of guys, and that makes Jimin feel even more excited about getting something.

“Thank you.” He grins, a somewhat more genuine smile on his face as he moves it into his pocket.

Once the fan signing is done and they head back to the dorms, Jimin is completely exhausted. He makes a beeline towards his room, slipping a hand into his pocket to take out his phone. He feels a slip of paper in front of the black screen, and quickly remembers who gave this to him. Trying to keep the same tired but loopy smile towards the members, he heads to his room a little fast, mumbling a sluggish good night. Once he enters his shared room, he immediately flops onto his bed, tearing open the envelope with his ravishing curiosity eating away at him. He freezes when he reads the words on the page, already feeling tears prick the corners of his eyes.

“Dear Jimin,

I wish you’d stay happy! You should be eating more and don’t let the hate get to you! You look like a stick and we want you to stay healthy! Both males and females alike wish you’d just be happy. We know you’re tired, but you don’t have to force a smile on your face when it gets to be too much. Don’t worry about the antis! We’ll protect you! We all love you, and want you to know that no matter what we support you!

Fighting!

~A.R.M.Ys”

    Jimin couldn’t help but feel touched, happy for once that someone cared, and to know that if not one, but a small group of the ARMY’s cared for him. He lightly traces the ten, maybe twenty signatures on the card, his smile only growing when he sees the small hearts that followed. Jimin carefully folded the letter, placing it back inside the envelope and slipping it into his drawer, a new smile on his face. Emotions mix together, something that is similar to a bittersweet feeling, the feeling of being loved by hundreds but feeling completely and utterly alone. There was relief and pure joy for the idea of fans protecting and caring for him after the countless death threats he’s received. Yoongi soon enters the room, looking over towards Jimin with a small smile.

The older boy just pats Jimin’s head, making his way to his bed, “Someone’s happy.” He mumbles, his voice low and mind seemingly on the brink of sleep. Jimin just nods, smiling to himself as he stares at his hands.

Soon it turns bittersweet, Jimin happy about the letter but feeling the need to meantion what went wrong, “Did you know that 12 people skipped over me today.”

A sigh from Yoongi can be heard, a weight soon felt on Jimin’s back, “I told you to stop counting those.” The older wraps his arms around Jimin, pulling him from off the chair and too his bed, “No bad thoughts. You were just smiling happily and sadness isn’t allowed.”

“But-”

“No, I banned it.”

“Yoongi-”

“If you say one more thing I will have to make you shut up.” With the threat, Jimin goes silent, a smile tugging at his lips as he feels Yoongi make himself comfortable. His own heart skips a few beats, and Jimin’s scared that Yoongi could hear it. He wasn’t ready to face his own feelings, let alone have the other find out.

Right as he almost allowed himself to fall asleep, Yoongi whispers something barely heard over his heart, “Keep smiling like before. I like that.”

 

If I had a penny for every time I've fallen in love-

 

This was something Jimin never expected. He awoke to Yoongi’s arm around his waist, the older clinging tightly to his back as soft snores slip from his mouth. The warm feeling in Jimin’s stomach has reached a point where he’s sure the blanket around the pair would catch on fire. Jimin was well aware of his growing feelings for the other, having to suppress them for three years too long. Sleeping likes this had become a usual thing, a way for Yoongi to make sure Jimin was okay. Jimin would always push the growing feelings away with excuses like ‘He’s just being nice’ or ‘This is what friends do’, but tonight he’s run out of excuses. He knew this could butcher the entire relationship with him and the band, but he’s realized that he has actually fallen for the black haired boy from Daegu. The stirring of the older from behind him makes him tense immediately, ruining his chance of pretending he’s asleep.

“Mh? Jimin why are you awake?” Yoongi’s low and rough voice sent chills down Jimin’s spine. He stopped breathing, an automatic reaction as Yoongi lifts his head and places his chin on the crook of Jimin’s neck, “You better not be crying again.” Jimin just shakes his head, staying quiet as he tries to control his heartbeat. It only gets worse as Yoongi places his hand on his chest, “Your heart… did you have a nightmare?” The concern from Yoongi’s voice made Jimin want to cry out of embarrassment. He didn’t want to lie, but his shame for his feelings was stronger than he thought.

Jimin felt pathetic. All he could do is open and close his mouth, no sounds leaving his lips. He felt the bed shift slightly, Yoongi propping himself on one arm as he pulls Jimin around. Jimin, now face to face (or face to neck) with Yoongi, felt his red cheeks easily spotted. He couldn’t look the older in the eye, looking at the walls or even the mattress below the pair.

“Are you sick? You feel warm. Do you need me to get you some water? Should I call Jin and ask him to get us some medicine?” The fact that Yoongi was worrying himself over Jimin made Jimin want to just disappear. With the humiliation he felt about lying, or his feelings, Jimin could only manage to speak out a single word.

“Hyung…” It must have sounded really pathetic, because Yoongi shut up immediately. There were tears b in the younger’s eyes, the pressure of what he wants to say battling with his self-deprecating thoughts about what harm he’ll cause the group. “Hyung… Hyung…” Jimin breaks down, the tears falling as he just repeats the same word over and over again. Yoongi looks shocked for the first time, not quite sure how to deal with this sudden break down.

“Hey… Jimin… Shhh… It’ll be okay…” Yoongi’s words were meant to comfort Jimin, but if the older really knew what he was thinking, he’d probably turn away in disgust.

“No it won’t.” Jimin’s voice was harsh, a whisper that seemed to scratch at his throat, “It’s so bad. It’s horrible. I shouldn’t- it’s bad.” His tears were forming a small wet spot on Yoongi’s shirt, the older paying no mind to it.

“Jimin, it’s not that bad-”

“I think I like you… Hyung…” Jimin finally confesses, his sobs only becoming more violent as he prepares himself for any harm coming his way, “I think I really, really like you.”

Jimin’s fear skyrockets as Yoongi doesn’t respond, his arms only tightening on the younger. His sobs rack his body, shaking as he imagines everything that could happen. Yoongi could lash out, shouting verbal assaults and even hitting him. Yoongi could go quiet, leave the bed and brush him off with a cold shoulder. He could tell the group, the management, their boss. He could be disgusted and leave the group. He could do so many things, but Jimin didn’t expect this.

Lips.

Yoongi’s lips.

It was a kiss.

Jimin’s eyes flew open, the blurry figure of Yoongi right in front of him. Jimin could count the eyelashes on the other, notice the soft hair that sticks up at different places, see the practically porcelain skin with barely any flaws. He feels as if his heart stopped beating, his chest in a physical pain as his mind struggles to understand the feelings inside of him. Is it relief, confusion, excitement, nerves, fear, love? Jimin didn’t know, but when Yoongi slowly pulls away, he finds himself continuing to stare at the older. He wasn’t even breathing, fearing that the slightest movement would shatter this moment. Yoongi’s hand is resting on Jimin’s face, Jimin unaware of when it got there. Small circles were being traced on his cheeks, a laugh full of mirth coming from Yoongi.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear those words.” His voice is breathy, whispy and indescribably full of joy, “The only thing I didn’t like was that you were crying. You’re emotions shouldn’t be something you’re ashamed of. Their yours and beautiful, a part of you that should be treasured.” Jimin finally let go of the breath he’s been holding it, the relief that Yoongi has given him brought the tears back. “Don’t tell me you’re going to cry again.” There’s a teasing smile on his face, a light kiss on Jimin’s nose.

“I-I’m sorry- it’s just- you don’t know how happy I’m- I-” Jimin fumbles over his own words, his cheeks flushing into a prominent pink color. Yoongi has his own small blush appearing, his ears more red than his cheeks. Yoongi leans in for a third time, giving Jimin a light kiss as the butterfly’s consume the younger’s stomach. Jimin’s lips break out into a smile in the small kiss, a giggle leaving his lips. Yoongi pulls away, looking down at him with pure admiration.

“I really, really like you too, Park Jimin.”

(...)

“What are you thinking of?”

“You’re going to need a lot of pennies” Jimin smiles, curling into the comforting warmth. He had a new answer to the question he’s constantly asked himself. If he was okay. If he had too many pennies. If he’d have enough. If he was worth loving, or being loved. If he would find the one. If he was happy. Jimin now has those answers, and he can say for sure, in the embrace of his hyung, that he is happy. He knew how many pennies could’ve collected over the years, but only one penny mattered to him.

 

-I'd have one