Jimin might only be sixteen years old, but he's pretty sure he’s in love. It’s the afternoon of day two of county field day, and Jimin has spent the majority of the past day and a half completely entranced by a boy from a rival school who has yet to participate in any events. He’s definitely built like a runner, long, lean muscles clearly visible in his running shorts and school t-shirt with cut off sleeves, so Jimin assumes he’s probably one of the mid-distance runners like himself.

Jimin has watched the boy rub sunscreen on his shoulders and lounge in the sun between goofing off with other kids from his school. There was a shoving match the day before that caused Jimin to momentarily panic because a big, tall, clumsy kid pushed the boy so hard he landed on the pavement and scuffed his elbow, but thankfully the boy got up and brushed it off like it was nothing, his heart shaped smile revealing too much metal inside his mouth as he smacked the tall kid in the shoulder in retaliation.

“Jimin!” Taehyung’s voice snaps him back to reality. “They just called the 1600. It’s your event.”

“Right. Okay.” Jimin makes his way down to the track, pushing through the crowd of taller kids, and he definitely does not make a point of passing near the boy and his friends. Not at all.

“Hobi, isn’t that your event?” he hears as he doesn’t walk by the boy. It’s the tall, clumsy kid who says it in a voice unfairly deep for someone his age, and his hands are busy pulling the boy’s hair into a messy ponytail on top of his head.

“What? 1600?” He looks at his other friend who shrugs at him like he hadn’t been paying attention to the announcements, and he probably hadn't. Jimin has watched the boy's friend napping off and on for nearly two days now, stretched out in the grass like a lazy cat.

“Hey! Hey kid! What event did they just call?”

Jimin has to spin in a circle to be sure the boy isn’t talking to someone else. “Uhm… 1600 meter?” he finally answers. Jimin doesn’t know why he sounds so uncertain; it's his event as well.

“, that’s me,” the boy says, swatting at his friend’s hands. “Joon, stop it! Let go of my hair. I gotta go. Yoongi, keep an eye on Joon. Don't let him kill himself while I'm gone.” The tall kid pouts as he lets go of the boy’s hair, and the rubber band he’d been using to hold the ponytail stretches out along the lock of hair and leaves it sticking straight up on top of the boy’s head. Jimin giggles.

“Hey, are you running the 1600 meter too? We can walk over to the track together.” It’s hot outside, but Jimin feels like it’s gotten even hotter in the space between himself and the boy. His face feels especially warm. He knows it’s probably as pink as Taehyung’s hoodie that he refuses to remove despite complaining that he’s sweating like crazy.

Without waiting for an answer, the boy grabs Jimin’s hand and starts pulling him toward the center of the track where the field day officials are gathering all of the boys to divide them into heats for the race.

“I’m Hobi,” the boy says. “What’s your name?”

“Jimin.” His voice is so small, Jimin wonders if Hobi can even hear him over all the other kids talking and laughing around them.

“What grade are you? I’m a junior.”

“Sophomore.”

“Cool. Guess we won’t be racing each other. I’ll cheer for you if you cheer for me.” Jimin blushes again and nods.

They’re split up as soon as they reach the other boys racing in their event, but Hobi catches Jimin’s eye from several groups away and winks at him, giving him a thumbs up for good luck. Jimin waves back and watches as Hobi’s group is herded toward the track. They all take their places, including a boy from Jimin’s school, and before the whistle is blown, Jimin yells, “Go Hobi!” as loud as he can before he loses his nerve. He sinks back into the crowd behind the other sophomores he’ll be racing against in a few minutes, but he doesn't miss Hobi’s bright, metallic smile when he hears Jimin’s voice. It makes Jimin's heart feel like it's melting into a puddle in his chest.

Hobi wins his race, and Jimin sends him silent encouragement the whole way until he crosses the finish line just half a step ahead of the boy from Jimin’s school.

Then it's Jimin's turn. He crouches into starting position and waits for the whistle, but as soon as the official signals the start of the race, a loud scream of, “Go Jiminie go!” startles him and he trips over his first few steps. He catches his balance quickly, pumping his short legs as hard as he can to catch up with the rest of the runners. Somewhere around 800 meters he hears Taehyung yelling for him, telling him to go faster, faster, faster, and when he's nearly at the finish line, Hobi's voice is louder than anyone in the whole stadium, still cheering him on even though Jimin already knows he's going to finish fourth place.

“You didn't have to do that,” he tells Hobi as he walks Jimin back to the bleachers where Taehyung is waiting to console him.

“Do what?”

“Cheer for a loser like me.” Jimin is practically a professional at the whole self pity thing.

“Hey,” Hobi grabs Jimin's shoulder and turns him to see his face, “it's not your fault you didn't win. Everyone trips sometimes. Hell, my best friend trips when he's standing still, but the important thing is you didn't let it hold you back. You tried your hardest anyway, and you would've won if not for my big mouth.”

Jimin wants to kiss Hobi to thank him for his kind words. Instead, he rubs the back of his neck shyly, and they part with the promise to see each other next year.

 

“Tae, have I put on weight?” Jimin is standing in front of the full length mirror on the back of Taehyung's bedroom door that Jimin knows for a fact Taehyung only uses when he lip syncs to G-Dragon in his boxers after his shower.

Taehyung looks at him very seriously, face completely straight as he says, “Uh, yeah. About ten pounds of muscle in the last few months. Look at your guns, Minnie. Who are you working so hard to impress anyway?”

It's spring again. Field day is in two weeks, and Jimin is officially nervous. He hasn't seen Hobi in a whole year, not since they waved goodbye from their bus windows after the last field day.

“No one,” Jimin mumbles, knowing Taehyung will only ridicule him for his little crush on a boy he saw for two days a year ago.

“Is it Jisoo?” Taehyung's whole face lights up. “I was wondering why she kept sitting with us at lunch. I think she likes you.”

“Yeah,” he lies, anything to distract Taehyung from the truth. “She's pretty, huh?”

“Gorgeous, wow. You're so lucky, Minnie. The only girl who ever flirts with me is your mom.”

“My mom does not flirt with you!”

“She does so!” Taehyung argues. “She's always offering me dinner and asking if I'm staying the night. What else would you call it?”

Jimin splutters for a moment, unsure how to counter that. “She's just… being a mom, Taetae. Your mom does the same with me.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess you're really lucky then. Two girls flirting with you.”

Jimin is pretty sure Taehyung isn’t even interested in girls. He’s been eyeing the new freshman who rides their bus fairly obviously all year. In fact, probably the only people who don’t know Taehyung has a crush on Jungkook are Jungkook and Taehyung themselves. Jimin decides to drop the conversation, rolling his eyes at his idiotic best friend.

Two weeks later, Jimin finds himself standing in the middle of a parking lot full of buses, craning his neck to read the school names on the sides in hopes of finding Hobi’s.

“I told you Jisoo isn’t coming.” Jimin knows Jisoo isn’t coming. Taehyung has been talking about Jisoo not coming for the entire half hour bus ride to the stadium. Jimin couldn’t possibly care less that Jisoo isn’t coming. “She didn’t qualify for her event. You’re on your own, buddy.”

“What? You’re not going to keep me company? I’m heartbroken.” Taehyung makes a face like he can’t tell if Jimin is serious about being heartbroken. Sometimes Taehyung has trouble understanding sarcasm. “I’m kidding, Tae. Go be with Jungkook.” Taehyung’s hug squeezes all the air out of Jimin’s lungs, and then Taehyung is skipping away to find Jungkook.

With a sigh, Jimin shoulders his backpack and starts making his way to his school’s section of the bleachers. He’s still searching for Hobi when someone crashes into him from behind.

“Sorry, my fault, so sorry,” the person says, and Jimin recognises that deep, throaty voice. It’s been a year since he’s heard it, but it’s kind of unmistakable.

“Aren’t you Hobi’s friend? Joon, right? Is Hobi here?”

Joon dips his chin forward as he looks down at Jimin. His sunglasses slide down the bridge of his nose and all the way off his face, and Jimin giggles as he bends to pick them up.

“Sorry, who are you?” Joon asks.

“Oh, no one.” Jimin should have known Hobi’s friends wouldn’t remember him. He’s pretty sure Hobi won’t even remember him, but he had still let himself hope that-

“Jimin?”

His breath gets caught in his throat when he looks over Joon’s shoulder and there’s Hobi. His voice is deeper, he’s taller and looks thinner than Jimin remembers, and his hair has been dyed an interesting combination of pink and grey, but he’s wearing another school t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and possibly the same running shorts as they look considerably shorter on him.

“You dyed your hair,” Jimin says stupidly. Hobi scrubs at the back of his head, ruffling his hair nervously. “I like it,” Jimin reassures him. “It makes you look softer,” soft like Jimin’s favorite fuzzy sweater that he likes to wear when he’s had a bad day and needs comfort, but Jimin isn’t going to share that bit of information.

“Thanks.” Hobi’s face colors to match his hair, and it really shouldn’t be so cute. Hobi shouldn’t be so cute. Jimin is in real trouble. “So, uh, me and Joon were gonna go find a sunny spot and set up camp. You wanna join us?”

Jimin nods because he doesn’t trust himself not to ask why if he opens his mouth. Hobi smiles, and that’s when Jimin notices his teeth. They’re straight and round and bright, bright white with no evidence of the braces he’d sported last year. For half a second, Jimin is a bit jealous of Hobi’s perfect smile, but then his mind wanders to how different it would feel to kiss him now. All year Jimin’s been imagining kissing a mouthful of metal. He’ll have to adjust all of his fantasies to compensate for the change.

Without saying a word, Joon starts walking away, and Hobi motions for Jimin to follow them over to the grassy field beside the bleachers. Hobi and his friends have come prepared with blankets and snacks and multiple bottles of sunblock. The third guy from last year joins them as well, flopping down in the center of the blanket with a groan and covering his face with a wide brimmed sun hat. It earns him a dirty look from Hobi who had just finished painstakingly smoothing out every wrinkle in the blanket.

“So I guess you remember Joon from last year. This is Yoongi. He probably won’t talk to you, but don’t take it personally.” Yoongi lifts the hat and squints at Jimin for a moment, then drops it back over his eyes, and Jimin figures that’s probably where he’ll stay until it’s his turn to compete. “Yoongi does cross country so he doesn’t actually have to do anything. Joon’s event is long jump. He only qualifies every year because he’s the tallest in our grade.”

“Hey,” Joon protests, “I’m good at long jump.”

“Sure, as long as you can stay on your feet,” Yoongi says. His voice sounds as lazy as he looks. There’s a slight lisp, and his syllables are slurred a bit. It’s like his tongue doesn’t want to move too much, and he starts his sentence with only half a breath in his lungs so he’s nearly croaking the last couple of words as he runs out of air.

Joon squawks, offended, and Yoongi chuckles. Jimin already likes Hobi’s friends.

It doesn’t take long for him to change his mind about Yoongi, though, and it’s not even Yoongi’s fault. A few hours into the day, Joon is called to the field for his event, and Jimin digs in his backpack for his lunch. When he turns around to offer Hobi and Yoongi some of his food, Hobi is laying across Yoongi on the blanket. It wouldn’t bother Jimin - he’s used to Taehyung doing the same to him when they’re hanging out after school - except that Hobi’s lips are attached to Yoongi’s neck, leaving a dark red patch on Yoongi’s pale skin that’s still wet with spit when Hobi pulls away.

Jimin snaps back around to watch Joon, trying to forget what he saw, but it’s difficult when Yoongi is making humming sounds that are dangerously close to moans. Jimin is eternally grateful when Joon loses his event early, stumbling over his own feet and falling face first in the sand. He returns to them still spitting sand and dusting off his clothes.

“Ahem,” Joon clears his throat loudly. “Did you two forget we have company? Rude.” Jimin silently agrees but keeps his eyes on the grass between his feet.

Yoongi grunts something that might be an apology, Jimin has been tuning out his voice as much as possible so he doesn’t really hear it, and excuses himself to go find the restroom. Joon decides to follow Yoongi. Then it’s just Jimin and Hobi, his crush… his taken crush.

“So you and Yoongi are, um… together?”

“Oh, well, not really.” Okay, maybe not taken? “We just kinda make out sometimes. It’s not like a relationship or anything. More like friends with very limited benefits. Joon is part of it too, but he and Yoongi have slightly less limited benefits.”

Jimin isn’t sure how to respond or if he’s supposed to so he just says, “Oh.” He feels like such a child next to Hobi and his friends. Even though the age difference isn’t that much, he’s inexperienced, and it makes him self conscious. He would roll up in the blanket and not come out the rest of the day if he thought it would help, but it’s hot out and Hobi probably wouldn’t allow him to steal their blanket like that anyway.

“Hey,” Hobi says as he scoots to the edge of the blanket to sit beside Jimin. His tone is soothing in spite of the scratchiness of his voice. “It’s not… don’t think too much about it, okay? It’s… we’re just really close. It’s all just very natural for us, but I get that not everyone is comfortable with it. If me being gay bothers you, I get it.”

“What? No, I don’t care about that. I mean, me too?” Jimin looks up at Hobi through his fringe for a moment before returning his gaze to the grass. “So no, it’s not a problem.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing,” Jimin says dismissively, but Hobi won’t accept it.

“Come on. Something made you uncomfortable. What is it?” Jimin hugs his knees and rests his cheek on them, staring at Hobi with innocent, wide eyes but refusing to speak. “Oh my gosh, are you jealous?” Hoseok laughs when the tips of Jimin's ears turn red and he hides his face in his arms. “Sorry, it's just, I didn't figure you'd go for the grumpy type like Yoongi.”

Jimin chokes on a gasp. He coughs and sputters, and Hobi smacks his back a little too hard. “Uh, no,” he says when he catches his breath. “I’m not into grumpy types.”

“Oh.” There’s a look that crosses Hobi’s face as it transforms from confused to understanding. It only lasts a split second, but Jimin thinks it’s cute. Too cute, still just too damn cute. “Oh, so… me?” Jimin whines and hides his face again. “Really? Me?”

“You have no idea how handsome you are, do you?” Jimin groans. The whole situation is so embarrassing, and it’s only the first day. He’ll probably have to third wheel Taehyung and Jungkook tomorrow after this.

“No, I mean… I know I’m handsome, but you… you’re…” Hobi sighs, unable to finish his sentence. Jimin doesn’t push. He’s not sure he wants to hear what Hobi thinks of him.

They’re rescued from a long, uncomfortable silence when Joon and Yoongi return looking flushed and disheveled. Hobi snorts and winks at Jimin and whispers, “See… less limited benefits. I was just warming Yoongi up for Joon.”

As the afternoon progresses, Jimin turns to a virtual puddle on Hobi’s blanket, wedged between Hobi and Yoongi who, according to Joon, warms up to Jimin faster than he’s ever seen.

“You make him so soft,” Joon tells Jimin. “It took me two weeks to get him to do more than grunt at me.”

“That’s because you’re a spaz. Jimin is normal. Better than normal, he’s quiet.” Jimin opens his mouth to object. Yoongi obviously doesn’t know him well enough yet if he thinks Jimin is quiet, but Yoongi continues talking. “And he’s not interested in me... too busy staring at Hobi to flirt with me. I like that.”

Jimin squirms and thinks about running away to hide his face in that stupid pink hoodie Taehyung is wearing again until field day is over and he’ll have a whole year to recover, but Yoongi gets irritated by Jimin’s wiggling and nudges him toward Hobi with his shoulder.

Hobi is on his side, propped up on an elbow with his cheek resting in his palm. Jimin closes his eyes, definitely  because the sun is bright above Hobi’s head and absolutely not because Hobi looks so beautiful that it’s like looking at the sun anyway.

“Were you staring at me, Jiminie?”

Jimin cracks an eye open for a moment but doesn’t respond.

“I didn’t notice him staring,” Joon says, and Yoongi laughs. “What? I didn’t.”

“Of course you didn’t. You’re oblivious to everything.”

The argument dissolves into a brief pushing match that ends when Joon manages to press his plump lips to Yoongi’s neck. Hobi pulls Jimin up from the blanket and suggests they take a walk to give Joon and Yoongi some time alone.

“Y’all aren’t shy, are you?”

“Not really, no,” Hobi laughs and tugs Jimin toward a shady spot behind the bleachers. “Does PDA bother you? Or was it just the fact that it was meearlier?”

“You. Both? No, definitely you.” Hobi grins at Jimin.

“You really are jealous, aren't you? I thought you were lying before to spare my feelings, but you really do like me. Don't you?”

Jimin has apparently decided to make it a habit to not answer Hobi's questions. He bites his lip and looks at his feet. Suddenly he's cornered against a concrete pillar under the stadium bleachers, Hobi's hands on either side of his head.

“Say it. Say you like me and I'll give you what you want.”

Hobi's face is so close to Jimin's. He can feel the warmth of Hobi's body just inches away, Hobi's breath on his skin, and even if Jimin weren't already freaking out - because holy Hobi's skin is flawless and tan and glowing and he's just right there - there's also the fact that Hobi said he'll give Jimin what he wants. Jimin isn't actually all that sure what he wants.

The innocent, inexperienced side of him just wants to hold hands for the rest of field day, to get Hobi's number so they can text each other after, and maybe a quick little kiss. The other side of Jimin, the side that's governed by his teenaged hormones and lust, wants Hobi to do to Jimin exactly what he'd done to Yoongi earlier.

Jimin is too caught up in his inner turmoil to notice Hobi leaning closer. His mouth is already by Jimin's ear when he hears a breathy, whispered plea.

“Say you like me. Please. I need to hear it, Jiminie.”

Jimin scrapes together every ounce of courage in his tiny body. He takes a deep breath and places his hands on Hobi’s cheeks, gently guiding him to look at Jimin.

“I like y-”

Hobi surges forward to cut Jimin off with a searing kiss, Jimin’s first. He doesn’t think anything could possibly be more perfect than the way their lips fit together, but then a warm tongue is sliding against his lips, urging him to open his mouth. He does, and oh, yes, that’s definitely more perfect. He lets Hobi in and tilts his head to the side as his arms wind around Hobi’s neck to pull him closer.

It’s over too soon and leaves both of them breathless, eyes crossed as they try to look at each other with their foreheads pressed together. Jimin giggles.

“How did you know I wasn’t going to say I like Yoongi?” he asks.

“It didn’t matter what you said. I like you, and if it was the only opportunity I’d get to kiss you, I didn’t want to miss it.”

Jimin pushes himself onto his tiptoes to show Hobi it’s not the only opportunity he’ll get.

 

“Where have you been all day?” Taehyung asks when a still dazed Jimin climbs the stairs onto their bus. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I thought you’d meet me and Kookie at our seats. Did you even watch my event?”

“Sorry, Tae. I missed it.” Jimin knows he doesn’t sound all that sorry, and for that he actually is sorry.

“What happened to your lips? You get stung by a bee or something?”

Jimin quickly covers his mouth with his hand. “What are you talking about?”

“They’re all swollen and red,” Taehyung says as he fights to move Jimin’s hands to get a better look. They’re both startled by someone banging on the side of the bus.

“Yo, Jiminie. I forgot to give you my number,” Hobi yells up at the window, and Taehyung gasps.

“You… you’ve been kissing him, haven’t you?” he hisses.

Jimin shrugs another half-assed apology at Taehyung as he hops off the bus to exchange numbers with Hobi.

“Where are you going?” Jimin asks as he passes Taehyung on his way back onto the bus.

“I gotta… a thing… I need…” Taehyung frantically attempts to make a complete sentence, but he finally gives up, shouting, “Jungkook!” back at Jimin.

Go get him, Tae, he thinks.