The temperature outside was well below freezing, made evident by the blanket of snow covering the roads and sidewalks. Ice was forming on the glass of every building in sight. Even with the heater on in his hotel room, if Jimin stood close enough to his window and exhaled, he could see his breath. Inhale, and he could taste the frost.

Jimin couldn't remember a time being in Moscow when the weather didn't require an overcoat and scarf at the very least, so it was second nature for him to shrug on his thick, leather jacket, a scarf, and a beanie before leaving his room. He stood at the door, looking over his luggage and then taking one last glance at the nightstand and desk to make sure he had collected all of his items. Forgetting his paperwork was a headache he never wanted to experience again. It had taken him over an hour struggling with the hotel service because at the time, he only knew minimal Russian and they knew no Korean. His company finally sorted everything out with the help of a translator. Boy, did he get his chewed out for that screw-up.

He sighed as he adjusted his beanie before gathering his luggage and heading to the lobby to check out. The man at the concierge desk knew Jimin well because Jimin frequented this hotel whenever he had to come for a business trip, which was more often than Jimin had first expected. He mostly went to Russia, China, and Japan for international deals that were needed. The man smiled at Jimin when he saw him. Damien was etched onto the gold nameplate on his shirt.

"Find everything okay, Jimin?" he asked.

"As always," Jimin replied, returning the smile. He pulled out his wallet for his ID. Luckily, he wouldn't have to pay for the room because it was included in the company's expenses. That was one of the perks of his job, free travel to a different country. Yet, sometimes Jimin wondered if the perks outweighed the cons. He had to work long nights and almost always brought his work home with him. His boss was a hardass and for some reason liked picking on Jimin specifically for the smallest mistakes. He was always chosen for the harder assignments. Yet, Jimin couldn't pass up an opportunity like working as a business executive for one of the largest music industries in South Korea. The pay was good and numbers came easy to him, and when he knew how fickle the choreographing industry would be, he thought this was a good second option. He wasn't thrilled about the workload, but his ability to live comfortably for most likely the rest of his life was a pretty good tradeoff to him.

"Next time you come, how about I take you out to one of the clubs here. I know where the hottest girls hang out," he suggested. Jimin believed that of all people to know where the hottest girls hung out, it would be Damien. He had dark brown hair and light brown eyes with a sharp jawline and high cheekbones. He had lips that weren't too small or too big and always had a pink tinge to them. Jimin had often thought about how handsome Damien was the first few times they met, but his feelings for Damien never went past that. He was with Jungkook then.

Jungkook...

"Sure, but drinks are on you," Jimin said playfully. Damien smiled again and nodded.

Jimin didn't drink. He hadn't since what had to be about two years now.

He asked Damien to call a cab for him, and in thirty minutes, he was sitting in the back of a taxi that smelled of leather and sweat. The driver was a quiet man of about fifty years of age. He was balding and had two kids, which Jimin tried to ask about but was met with short, curt answers. He didn't talk anymore after that.

Jimin's Russian wasn't the best, he had taught himself the basics and learned a few helpful phrases from Damien who in turn asked Jimin to teach him a few things in Korean. He had been in this business for about a year now and had to go out of town just about every month, never staying for shorter than a week. He was a quick learner and was immersed in Russia's culture often, allowing him to go from stumbling over his words with a dictionary in hand to being able to hold a conversation and even use a few colloquialisms, thanks to Damien.

The ride was shorter than Jimin had expected, but thankfully so. He paid the man through the slot in the glass partition and got out of the taxi to get his luggage from the trunk. Then, he made his way through the train station until he reached the ticket booth. A ticket to Busan to attend to matters that had always saddened him. He had been visiting for two years now, but that didn't make it any easier. There were always tears and guilt involved.

Jimin was so caught up in reading his ticket that he hadn't seen the man until he collided with him. Papers went flying and the man was knocked down. Jimin looked down and saw only the top of the blonde's head as he scrambled to gather his belongings which were now scattered around him on the terminal's dirty, cement floor.

"I'm so sorry!" the man stuttered in a poor Russian accent. Jimin recognized his accent as being Korean.

"Lost?" Jimin asked the man in their native tongue. The blonde looked up in surprise, holding an expression as if he had just seen an angel.

"Oh you're Korean, thank God! What are the odds? I'm sorry for running into you, I'm just a bit-" he stopped talking to catch his breath as he finished picking up his paperwork and stood up. The man was wearing a satchel that could have easily held the papers, and Jimin wondered why he was carrying everything in his arms. 

"I'm a bit...flustered," the man finished his thoughts. His cheeks held a pink hue, but whether it was from embarrassment or exhaustion, Jimin couldn't tell.

Jimin remembered being the same way when he first came to Russia. He was constantly running into people because his nose was down in the dictionary to prepare a sentence for the next person he would encounter. No one batted an eye when they knocked him over and he wasn't fortunate enough to magically run into a native speaker. He struggled to get to where he was and he knew how vulnerable and helpless he felt. Even though he didn't want to get sidetracked from his purpose of being here, he couldn't knowingly let this man feel that way.

"Do you need help?" he asked him. The man looked hesitant.

"No."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"How much Russian do you know?"

"Um...Enough..."

"Is that so?" Jimin crossed his arms in amusement as he watched the man blush again.

"My grammar is just not the best and my pronunciation could use some work, but I'm not really-"

"Follow me," Jimin said to cut off his rambling. 

The man looked down to hide his embarrassment and nodded. Jimin led the man to the ticket booth he had just left. Lucky for the two of them, the place wasn't too crowded, so they only waited in line for about ten minutes before it was their turn.

"I need a ticket to Busan," he told Jimin. Jimin nodded, pretending not to notice they were going to the same place, and asked in Russian for a ticket to Busan. Jimin told the man the price in Korean. As he reached into his wallet for the money, Jimin couldn't help but admire the man's features. His hair was sticking up in little tufts from his haste and his pale skin was smooth like porcelain. He had thin lips, but they were a soft shade of pink that drew Jimin's attention whether he liked it or not.

"Excuse me?" the man said, turning to Jimin. He was so busy staring at him, that Jimin didn't realize the man had gotten his ticket.

"Yes?"

"What's your name? I'd like to thank you properly."

"Jimin."

"Ah. Well, thank you Jimin," the man said with a slight bow of respect. "I'm Yoongi."

"It's nothing." Jimin shrugged off the man's thanks to hide his own embarrassment. One glance, and he could tell that the blonde was clearly older than him. He was sure that Yoongi knew this too, so it baffled Jimin that he would show such respect, especially to a stranger.

They stood there awkwardly, Jimin looking at the screen on top the ticket booth for his train number and arrival time. Jimin was hyper-aware of Yoongi standing next to him but did his best to ignore him. It's not that he was annoyed by him or bothered by him, he just felt awkward with him. Usually he was so confident in himself, but being around this man made him feel unsure of what to do or say. Jimin didn't like it.

Train number 244 to Busan will arrive in 5 minutes. Please report to the loading dock now, a female voice said over the intercom. Jimin looked at his ticket and sure enough, 244 was his train number. He saw the man look at his own ticket and then look up at him. Their eyes met and for a moment, Jimin was frozen in place, but quickly shook off the feelings that arose from the eye contact.

"We should go," Yoongi said and began walking to the loading dock. Jimin followed him to the area, the two walking side by side. They were nearly the same height so each boy could see the other out of their peripheral vision. Yoongi glanced at Jimin's jawline and plump, pink lips. They looked unbelievably soft to him and in his momentary trance of admiration, Jimin felt his gaze and turned to face him. They locked eyes again.