It’s been two years since debut and Jimin feels like his life is the equivalent of swimming in a wide and salty ocean. He’s in a constant state of exhaustion, but he perseveres because he believes solid landmass is upon the horizon. It’s either that, or Jimin and his band mates will die getting eaten by sharks or something, but hey, let’s be optimistic with this analogy.

Then, they win. One music show after another, they win. Jimin swears up and down, if anyone asks, that he hasn’t cried since the first show. Yeah, he’d be lying since he completely sobbed over the phone with his parents, and later his brother after the second and third win as well. They’re tears of happiness and relief because the recognition is what he thinks BTS and everyone who contributes to them deserves. He can be the son and brother he always wanted to be, and everyone who has helped them along the way will see it wasn’t all for naught.

It’s this thought that has Jimin working even harder than before. All eyes are on them now, they can either make or break the spotlight shining on them.

“Take a break,”

Jimin hears over his shoulder, startling him and snapping his eyes to the door of the practice room.

It’s late, really late, so Jimin should have known it would be Yoongi. He’s leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, body slumped with eyes drooping with fatigue.

“Speak for yourself,” Jimin murmurs cautiously, but he does turn and walk away from the mirrors. He reaches down to his water bottle, placed a few feet away from the doorway. Yoongi doesn’t budge though, just stands there and stares as Jimin gulps down the water.

“What?” Jimin sighs, raising a brow in Yoongi’s direction.

Yoongi shrugs back, eyes darting to the side a little awkwardly, “just waiting for you,”

Jimin laughs breathlessly, trying not to be too stunt from the reply. But, Yoongi’s trying, so Jimin nods back, throwing his water bottle into his bag. He pulls on a pullover sweater taken from it, and brushes past Yoongi, who held the door open the entire time.

They make small talk as they walk to their dorms. The early, early morning makes for a chilly and dark setting, but Jimin is pretty content with it all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s two weeks later that hits the fan.

All right, Jimin thinks as the last bright orange petal gets coughed into the toilet bowl, who’s the sorry er that’s in love with him?

Because Jimin cannot afford to deal with this right now. The schedules are starting to pile as BTS’s popularity gains traction. He absolutely cannot dash off at random to vomit pretty, crumpled bits of flowers. Above all, he does not want to be at the other end of a questioning rampage, whether from the media, the higher-ups at BigHit, his manager or, worst of all, his band mates.

Everything is in a very sensitive spot at the moment, and Jimin cannot believe the sheer inconvenience of it. Any earlier, Jimin might have been flattered, flustered and curious about the situation. Someone is in love with him, for Christ’s Sake. Jimin has a grocery list of ill personal-worth perceptions, yet someone still manages to fall in love with him.

The dinner after the first Blooming, Jimin is wide-eyed, his stare darting back and forth across the dressing room as they all eat their boxed meal sets. No one really pays him any mind, aside from a few polite “uh, you okay?” from various staff members. “Fine,”  he squeaks back, high pitch and strung before he stuffs his face with another large mouthful of rice.

He’s not sure what he’s expecting. It’s not like the person in love with him, or the Bloomer, will magically appear on one knee with a large bouquet of flowers matching the orange petals Jimin just gagged up. He tries to recall how he met the individual, recurring members of the staff around him, how long it’s been since they’ve met, and if they have significant others.

Maybe, a thought whizzes by and pauses everything else running around Jimin’s head, maybe it was a fluke. Maybe this someone is quick to love and quick to love again. It’s rare, but possible. He’s certain he read that somewhere.

So, Jimin takes a few breaths in and out and then, after a quick makeup touch-up, Jimin and the rest of BTS end up on another stage. Jimin finds his body moving in familiar and comfortable ways, and things are good again.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A month goes by, it’s enough time that Jimin is definitely lulled into a false sense of security. Key word being false because something like heart burn hits him in the middle of a dance practice. It aches in his chest, like a fist is constricting and releasing inside his torso. He rubs at his chest, subconsciously trying to soothe the feeling. It only increases and even starts to hurt. It starts to travel upwards, and oh.

Jimin excuses himself to take a pee break, and thankfully the other members agree on only the ‘taking a break’ part and don’t follow him out of the room. He looks around, though there’s usually not much staff around that time of night, and treks up a floor so he can make use of the single stall washroom there.

He locks the door behind him, eyeing it while resting his hands on waist. He then looks down to the toilet with distaste and sighs. A terribly uncomfortable feeling bulges up and up his throat, and then Jimin is on his knees with orange petals floating innocently on the water in the toilet bowl.

He gags a few more times, tears streaming down his cheeks at the sheer effort. Why does no one talk about how terrible the damn side effects are? Stupid romance novels all weave pretty and poetic proses, creating beautiful imaginings that has its readers soft and thoughtful.

In reality, Jimin feels like . Probably looks like too. His throat feels rough and scratchy, and it’s to the point that Jimin worries this thing might affect his singing, his livelihood. What has he done to deserve this?  He’s nice, treats people well and maybe that’s where he’s gone wrong. He’s apparently too nice because someone is out there right now, loving him in secret, and it’s honestly a nuisance.

The members all give Jimin varying degrees of judgmental looks when he finally gets back. He knows he took a long while, because the petals take their sweet time releasing themselves from his system. The members all probably think he took a big number two or something, and Jimin tries hard not to mind because it’s a better assumption than the truth. Either way, the music starts playing again and they dance a few more hours away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jimin has never been in love before. He has had his fair share of crushes, has gone out with a couple of people, but he’s never fallen in love. At least, if he has, it’s been requited because none of his conquests have ever shown hints of Blooming.

After the third Blooming incident (three weeks later, which woke Jimin up at 4am in the ing morning), Jimin thinks about letting the manager know and for them to secretly plan a Removal. His eyes land on the manager longer and more frequent than usual throughout the next few days.

“What is it?” His manager pulls him aside, noticing Jimin’s strange behaviour. He looks both suspicious and frustrated, and Jimin doesn’t blame him.

Jimin opens his mouth, inhaling a breath and is about to whisper his current issue but his lips press together and seal themselves shut. He instead shakes his head and says, “nothing, I thought you got a hair cut,” and wow, great excuse because the manager gives him the most unimpressed expression back. He then lectures him on focusing more on the upcoming schedules and blah blah blah, Jimin mutes him out from there.

The thing is, the idea of Removal...it kind of feel dirty to Jimin. Who was he, to decide to remove and erase someone else’s feeling of love? Yes, their love is probably Jimin’s most current and biggest burden but he thinks that being in an unrequited love probably feels worse.

He can’t do it. At least, he can’t do it yet. It’s a new development, and he’s been successfully hiding it from others for nearly three months now. He can continue to hide it until the Bloomer decides to fall out of their feelings. It’s not like Jimin’s lifestyle allows much time for social interactions anyways, he only really communicates with his band mates and manager on the regular these days. They’re all in such a rush with their skyrocketing popularity that he barely can speak two words to any cordi-noonas or stylists because he’s usually falling asleep in their chairs if he’s lucky, or on his feet if he’s not.

So, Jimin pushes on and hopes that in three to four weeks time, he won’t be offering up any more petals.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yoongi and Jimin has had their up and downs from the beginning. Thing went well at first, Yoongi had a better reception than some of the others when Jimin got thrown into BTS as a last minute addition. Like any other coworker, Yoongi was a good, more experienced mentor to Jimin. He offered Jimin advice on dynamics he didn’t really understand, whether it was on the group members themselves or on technical matters like the process of recording.

It was all great... but then it just never stopped. It got to the point that Yoongi made Jimin feel like he was just a stupid, naive kid who didn’t understand anything. Jimin knew Yoongi didn’t intend to make him feel that way, but, sometimes...sometimes Yoongi made him feel like he was only in the group to flash his abs and frail his limbs around. Yoongi’s praises were little and far between, while his critiques were abundant and direct.

So, Jimin grew to resent Yoongi a little.

But, Jimin’s a professional. He took on the grin-and-bear-it attitude and kept swimming. He didn’t need to care about what Yoongi thought about him. He was in this for himself, because this is his dream and he’s not going to let someone else tell him how to properly achieve it.

As can be imagined, bottling up these types of feelings towards someone you’re stuck with for twenty-four hours of the day doesn’t end well.

“That’s it,” Jimin whispers into the mic, cheeks red with frustration, hurt, and anger. His eyes burn , and tears are threatening to come through. He rubs at his eyes viciously with his sweater sleeve while ripping the large headphones off and callously tossing them somewhere. He then stomps out of the recording booth and hears,

“What are you—“ from Yoongi before he leaves the studio too, door slamming shut as he goes.

It was late at night, Yoongi asked him to stop practicing a dance and to re-record yet another part of Let Me Know. Yoongi’s a perfectionist about any song he composes and, yes, they always end up perfect. There’s a reason why his songs are Army’s favourites.

But to Yoongi, tonight, Jimin is producing anything but said perfection. Jimin’s tired though, his limbs ache from dancing all day long, and he didn’t eat as much as he should have today. Yoongi telling him to sing the same high note again and again was just grating at him. Yoongi asks him why he’s this way. What’s wrong with his voice tonight, is he even trying, why isn’t he using the same technique from the last time, Jungkook didn’t have this much trouble and that’s it.

Jimin’s nearly punching his things into his bag in the practice room with tears streaming down his cheeks when Yoongi enters a couple minutes later.

Jimin wipes at his tears quickly but his breath seems so loud and shaky that Yoongi probably notices. So, Jimin hurries to the door with his bag, hoping to shove past Yoongi but what do you know, Yoongi shoves Jimin right back and grips tightly onto one of his shoulders.

“What—what’s wro—" Yoongi tries and Jimin turns his head to glare at Yoongi furiously.

“Don’t ask what’s wrong,” Jimin hisses but it loses some heat due to a snot-filled nose, “don’t act like you actually care,”

Yoongi reels back so sharp and hard, no doubt shocked by Jimin’s words but he bounces back quickly enough with replying, “What the are you actually talking about?”

“Whatever,” Jimin sighs out after a few seconds of silence and tries to get past Yoongi again, but Yoongi’s hand on his shoulder stays strong and even kind of hurts with its tightening grip.

“Uh, no, not whatever,” Yoongi says, and he says it in a familiar mocking way that has Jimin’s hackles rising, “something’s obviously bothering you and we’re going to resolve this now,”

Jimin grabs onto Yoongi’s wrist and forcibly tears it off his person. His eyes well-up again, but he keeps his eyes intent on Yoongi with teeth gritted, “what if I don’t want to resolve this now? For once, how about we don’t do things your way?”

Yoongi stares at Jimin in disbelief, eyes wide and bulging before he looks away, at his lips. He pulls his black beanies off, ruffles his hair quickly before placing it back on.

“Jimin,” he starts out, slow, low, and cautious, “you...you know that I say a lot of , but I don’t always mean them, right? Just speak up— ”

“To be shot down?” Jimin cuts him off again, “I get it, you’re older, you’ve been through and back, but that doesn’t mean I’m only a—a brainless, dancing kid for the masses or whatever—“

“I never thought of you as a—"

“I work hard!” Jimin yells, his voice echoing in the room, “I keep working harder and harder every day, but it’s not like you ever care because it doesn’t meet your ing unreal expectations,”

Yoongi’s face morphs into a defeated mess, sorrowful and crumpled in hurt. It stabs Jimin right in the heart with such regret but he’s come so far already.

“Yes, I can’t sing as well as Jungkook, but I drop everything to record with you, don’t I?” He continues, his voice cracking with emotion and effort, “yeah, I can barely cook, but with Jin’s help I can make a decent tteokbokki all by myself now, and I always stay late to help Namjoon with his dancing, I’m trying,”

“I-I know,” Yoongi quickly replies, face staring straight to Jimin, his tone steady with his fists clenched at his sides, “I know,”

“Then please,” Jimin pleads, eyes pressing shut for a few moments before they open up again, “please don’t forget it,”

Finally, when Jimin moves to the door this time, Yoongi steps to the side and lets him leave.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The first person to find out is Hoseok and his lack-of-privacy self. Jimin had the shower going in the dorm’s bathroom, hoping it’ll drown out the sounds of Jimin’s fifth Blooming, only two weeks apart from his last.

Hoseok belted something about saving the environment by showering together when he storms in with only his boxers on.

“...uh?” Hoseok drops the towel in his hand and stares between Jimin hunched over the toilet and the bright, orange flowers deconstructed in its bowl.

“Close the door,” Jimin groans and reaches forward to do so himself, but another round of petals rush into his mouth, forcing him to cough them out into the toilet again.

Hoseok doesn’t shut but moreso slams the door close in his shocked haste.

“UH,” Hoseok says a little louder, but Jimin begs him to shut up with only his eyes for a few moments before more petals join the rest.

So, Hoseok stands there, stiff and silent as he waits by Jimin through the Blooming. When done, Jimin shakily stands up with sore knees wobbling from resting on the hard tile for so long. He turns his back to Hoseok and removes his baggy sleep t-shirt. He looks over his shoulder and motions his head to shower in exaggeration. In a flash, he whips off his sleep shorts and hops into the shower.

“How long?” Hoseok whispers after jumping into the shower after Jimin. Jimin lathers his shampoo into his scalp more vigorously.

“Four and a half months,” Jimin supplies, moving around Hoseok when Hoseok taps on his shoulder for a more direct spray of water.

“Damn,” Hoseok appropriately replies, “why haven’t you Removed it yet?”

“Would you?” Jimin squints at Hoseok with one eye, shampoo threatening to get into the other one.

Hoseok hums, considering before asking, “any idea who it is?”

“None,” Jimin sighs and taps on Hoseok’s shoulder, “hoping time will do its thing, it’s hard enough for us to stay in contact with anyone these days,”

“Does anyone else know?”

Jimin pauses in his rinsing and pointedly looks to Hoseok, meeting his stare.

“No,” he whispers lowly, “please...don’t—“

“I won’t,” Hoseok quickly says, “but only if you promise me to talk to me when it gets too hard,”

And just like that, the little bit of worry floating in Jimin’s mind vanishes. He smiles to Hoseok and he smiles back. They then go back to washing up in their mechanical and routine way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bloomings start out like love does, something like a ton of bricks slamming into you. Uncertainty fills the time before the second Blooming strikes and when it does, it reaffirms that yes, a person you don’t love, the Bloomer, loves you. From there, the speed which the next Bloomings occur varies from person to person. The rest periods between them, however, always shorten bit by bit. They suppose that the virus deepens and worsens just like the Bloomer’s love for you.

The accepted idea is that the Bloomer, before the Bloomings occur too frequently, will admit their feelings, get rejected and proceed to get over their love. That, or they request for a Removal if the person loved hasn’t done so yet.

A Removal is a surgical procedure, done often enough that most doctors can conduct it and the fees are completely covered via social healthcare. They scan for the Seed, create the smallest cut to remove it and sew you back up again. Then, no more Bloomings for the person loved and those feelings of love the Bloomer feels vanishes along with the Removal.

There are instances where the love does eventually get returned and the Bloomings cease, but that’s more common in the plots of romance novels than in reality. The idea is great, heartwarming and all that, but Jimin isn’t sure those rare instances can apply to him, based on the fact that he still has no ing idea who his Bloomer is.  

He still can’t bring himself to think about the Removal and Removing something as big as love without consent. Jimin knows though, that if this escalates to a frequency that he can no longer hide, he’ll have to go through with it. He just hopes the Bloomer falls out of love before it happens.

“What are you looking at?” Taehyung asks, suddenly awake on Jimin’s shoulder and peering down curiously down at Jimin’s phone. Jimin quickly puts his phone to sleep on instinct but it’s so suspicious that Jimin knows he has to come up with an excuse.

“I...” Jimin starts, and for whatever reason all the members in the waiting room suddenly have their eyes and ears on him, “I’m just reading this thing,”

“About flowers?” Taehyung pries, leaning further away with a brow raised.

“My...father’s birthday is coming up,” Jimin stutters out, because it’s the first birthday he can think of, “I thought he’d like some flowers, and I was...looking up meanings,”

His eyes naturally meet with Hoseok’s across the room, and why did the member with the worst poker face have to find out about his Bloomings? Hoseok’s eyes are overtly large and his posture stiff as a board. His face is basically telling Jimin to abort, but how the heck is he going to do that without receiving anymore suspicion?

“He likes orange flowers in particular or something?” Taehyung asks again, obviously having seen Jimin putting ‘orange flowers’ in the image search field.

“Among other colours,” Jimin quickly refutes with a pout, his eyes looking to the ceiling as he stretches his legs, sliding down the couch Taehyung and him are sharing. His eyes feel a pull of sorts and find themselves attached to Yoongi sitting diagonally from him on a folded chair. Yoongi’s stare is intense and strong on Jimin, causing an inexplicable shiver to go up Jimin’s spine. Then his eyes break contact. Yoongi stands from his seat, and just...casually walks out of the room without a word.

It confuses Jimin until two weeks go by, and hits the fan, part two.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jimin find out the petals he’s now coughing up on a biweekly basis belong to the Tagetes family. To be specific, it seems to be of the Patula variety, commonly known as the French Marigold. It carries so many meanings, both positive and negative, that the hints Jimin hopes to find are only washed away with confusion.

Creativity, passion, jealously, celebrating the dead and so many others.

It’s really a pretty flower, he thinks while putting the recording booth headphones on. Yoongi says something in his ear in the sound studio and then music starts to play. He sings, and hums to whatever and wherever Yoongi tells him. Yoongi compliments Jimin on an adlib he’s been thinking about for days, and it shows how far they’ve come. Jimin, instead of dreading recordings with Yoongi, now looks forward to it. Yoongi knows how to use his dry humour to relax Jimin into a mood that’s friendly yet professional.

“—remember that time, with Hoseok getting grabbed under the table?” Yoongi’s static voice presses against Jimin's eardrums, “I want that note,”

Jimin burst outs laughing at that, while Yoongi behind the glass cracks of side smile, “hey,” Jimin says between his laughter and looks around the booth, “please tell me you didn’t hide someone in here to make that happen,” the room is thankfully empty besides the mic and music stand in front of him, “you know you kind of need me alive for the rest of the song,”

Yoongi shrugs his shoulders, smile widening mischievously, “I don’t know, I think I can scrap something together with what we have,”

“Yoongi,” Jimin whines back, a small smile threatening to break through his lips, “you don’t mean that,”

“Eh,” Yoongi straightens his black ball cap, pulling it further down so Jimin can only see his gummy smile, “I suppose you’re right,”

And then, they continue. Jimin sings. Yoongi directs, repeats, and jokes. It’s all as usual until after a deep, breath in, an orange petal flies out instead of the note Jimin was aiming for.

Immediately, the music stops and silence echoes in Jimin’s ear. His eyes land on the petal, lying on the floor oh so innocently.

“What was that?” Yoongi’s voice is stiff and unsure. Jimin catches Yoongi moving to stand up and quickly steps on the petal, hiding it from sight.

“Nothing!” Jimin says into the mic, trying to hide his desperation, “it’s nothing, just phlegm,” bright, large, and orange phlegm, no biggie.

Yoongi is standing from his chair though, looking unconvinced for a few moments but Jimin sees Yoongi’s features relax a little and it calms Jimin right on back.

Then, without so much of a warning, Jimin feels a rush and tickle scratch up and out of his throat. The petals push, forcing their way past of his lips and catapulting themselves onto the mic, music stand, the floor and everything.

Everything is orange. Jimin is on his hands and knees on the ground. His stomach is lurching so violently he can hardly breathe. It’s by far the worst and most powerful Blooming Jimin has experienced to date. And Yoongi’s right there, quivering hands on Jimin’s back and worried hysterics on his lips.

It ends with Jimin being cradled in Yoongi’s arms, rocking back and forth as Yoongi whispers apologies into Jimin’s hair. Jimin thinks he’s imagining the cool and wet spot forming where Yoongi presses his face.

“I-I need to clean this up,” Jimin rasps out, gently pulling away from Yoongi. Yoongi remains frozen, seated on the ground and stares as Jimin’s shaky hands gather the many petals surrounding them.

“Jimin,” Yoongi says his name like a plea, “we...we need to tell the manger, you can’t, you have to get the Removal —“

“Not yet,” Jimin drones, still gathering all the scattered petals into one pile. He looks over to Yoongi, whose eyes are bloodshot and Jimin tries to tell his confusion to take a backseat because there are more important things right now, “it’s not so bad, I think I still have a little while, I mean only Hoseok and you know anyways—“

“Hoseok knows?” Yoongi cuts in, tone higher than before, “and he hasn’t told you to get it Removed?”

“Well, no,” Jimin glares, sniffling a little, “because Hoseok knows I’m a big boy who can make his own decisions, I thought you knew that by now,”

“I do,” Yoongi crawls closer, eyebrows knitting together with concern, “I just, don’t understand why you won’t get it Removed, that..., Jimin, it wasn’t even easy to look at, I can’t even imagine how you...and just how long have you...” Yoongi pauses, catching sight of a petal by one of his hands and remains silent from there.

“I can’t,” Jimin s his sweater and places it on the floor in order to deposit the petals onto it, “not without them...I mean I don’t even know who it is, it’s...not fair to them.”

“Oh,” Yoongi lets out, and it’s strangely hollow. It’s strange enough that Jimin looks over to Yoongi and when their eyes meet Yoongi’s mouth opens and his own voice rasps out, “it’s okay then, you can get it Removed, Jimin,”

Jimin rolls his eyes and goes back to putting the petals on his hoodie, “I told you I can’t—“

“It’s okay because it’s me, Jimin, and I’m telling you to Remove it,”

Everything freezes right then and the eerie silence of the recording booth only adds to the tension in the room.

“That’s not very funny,” Jimin whispers, looking away from Yoongi and reaching over to grab a stray petal.

“It’s not supposed to be,” Yoongi readily whispers back.

All the air and words get caught in Jimin’s throat right then, because oh god, Yoongi is telling the truth, isn’t he? Of all people, Yoongi is his Bloomer. Yoongi is in love with him.

Instead of asking the million questions racing through his mind, Jimin quietly gathers the corners of his hoodie and stands up.

“Can you clean the rest? I need to think,” he states quietly and leaves the booth, Yoongi, and that whole mind- situation behind him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So.

Yoongi loves him.

Like, really loves him. Like, in love with him kind of love. And Jimin doesn’t get it. How? Why? He wants to scream these questions to Yoongi, so he can just understand. After all, hasn't Yoongi always been the first to volunteer his explanation whenever Jimin asks?

Jimin can’t ask him though, because he thinks it’s kind of cruel and he might even be a little scared of Yoongi's answers. All Jimin can do is observe and observe he does.

He’s never really paid that much attention to Yoongi outside recording or when he gets dance moves ridiculously wrong. He’s usually quietly off to the side, napping, listening to something, or fiddling with his phone.

The more he watches, the more he realized that Yoongi isn’t quite like what Jimin thought. Yoongi is thoughtful, only speaks when necessary, and it’s always insightful or rightfully funny. Jimin knew this. He just wasn’t aware of the extent.

Two days after that last Blooming, Jimin witnesses Yoongi switching his unopened drink can with Jin's without anyone else noticing. Jin exclaims a few minutes later how much he loves that flavour, and boy, look how well the manager knows him.

A few more days and they’re in another waiting room. Jungkook chats up a storm with a new makeup artist, discussing the best BB cushions on the market. All this while a veteran hairstylist huffs impatiently for Jungkook to sit in her chair and get his hair done. Yoongi, having had his hair done earlier, strolls over and takes a seat. He complains about the style to the hairstylist and how he wants his hair to look exactly like it did in the photo-shoot they did four weeks back. He nitpicks his hair until Jungkook's and the makeup noona’s excitement settles down. Then Yoongi deems that his hair is good enough and rises from the hairstylist’s chair. He drags his feet across the room again and sits down on a folded chair. Once settle, Yoongi's head bows down with his eyes drifting close. In a few minutes, Jimin thinks he’s fallen asleep.

Jimin kind of feels terrible now. Because, despite all this time spent together, how did Jimin never notice these little things before? And, most importantly, what else has he missed?

He didn’t really have much time to ponder on the possibilities because a week later, Yoongi corners him in the dorm. The others are out and about, doing god knows what, but Jimin kind of wishes he was invited if it meant he would have avoided Yoongi’s staredown.

“Have you done it?” Yoongi point-blank blurts out.

Jimin, pressing further against the wall next to the bathroom, contorts his face in scowl, “you’re going to have to be more specific with—“

“Have you… does our manager know yet? Have you booked a Removal?” Yoongi glares before nibbling on his bottom lip, looking a mix of anxious and irritated.

Jimin tenses just that much more because, in all honesty, any thoughts of a Removal were even more detached than before. With Yoongi as his Bloomer, Jimin suddenly feels like the ever speeding clock has actually slowed right down.

“It’s, um, no,” Jimin’s eyes are looking a little bug-eyed, he’s sure, but he’s trying his hardest to calm his heart down, “we’ve been busy,”

“And we’ll be busy on national television when you puke your internal greenhouse up again,” Yoongi snaps, and its intensity kind of whips Jimin in the face. It stings until Yoongi scratches the back of his head roughly and continues with, “w-what are you even waiting for? Don’t worry about me, you’re the one that’s…that’s suffering,” and then the entirety of Yoongi’s presence deepens and despairs before Jimin’s eyes. Guilt and pain crosses Yoongi's expression and it doesn’t sit well with Jimin.

“I’m not suffering,” Jimin finds himself answering, body starting to uncurl and relax from against the wall, “don’t put words in my mouth, “

Yoongi’s lips press into a flat and slightly unimpressed line before answering, “well—“

“And—don’t do that,”

The confusion is almost comical on Yoongi’s face, a guy who pretends to have all the answers, and so, Yoongi asks, “do what?” 

“Undermine your feelings,” Jimin replies, low and hesitant. It’s a statement that’s bolder than usual against someone like Yoongi, who is so cautious of other’s feelings as Jimin has recently learned. Yoongi’s face changes to the one that looks ready to fight and he only gets a, ‘but—‘  before Jimin interrupts with, “No, just think about this really quick; because out of the two of us, who would you rather be right now?”

Luckily, Jimin seems to have finally struck a chord because Jimin can see Yoongi freezing as Jimin’s words settle.

From there, Jimin shuffles his feet for a second before letting out a long sigh and brushing past Yoongi.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It becomes a terrible routine, in Jimin’s opinion.

Every week, Yoongi finds him alone, no matter how hard Jimin tries for that not to happen. Yoongi doesn’t even have to ask him after the third week, Jimin just cuts him off and offers several different replies that generally spell out ‘N-O-P-E’.  Jimin supposes he gets it. The Bloomings should increase in pace, and therefore should be more worrying as more time passes, but against the norms, his Bloomings are pretty much remaining at a two-week frequency.

Unfortunately, just because Jimin can rationalize Yoongi’s worry, it doesn’t mean he necessarily always remembers to do so in the heat of the moment.

“Do you hate being in love with me or something?” he bursts out one day, annoyed and flustered.   

Yoongi chokes at that, obviously not expecting the frontal attack. Yoongi nervously glances around the little alcove he pulled Jimin into after performing a set. The good for nothing staff and band members only shrugged their shoulders when Yoongi waved his hand for them to go on without them a few moments earlier.

“Uh,” Yoongi rubs at his brow with a humorless smirk, “shouldn’t you be the one hating me right now?”

"To be honest, a little, but it has nothing to do with this,” Jimin motions in a circle around his chest, “and more to do with this,” Jimin then proceeds to flick Yoongi’s forehead, causing Yoongi to flinch.

Yoongi rubs at his forehead, looking between the ground and Jimin sourly while his lips purse, “are they…not getting worse?”

“Not really,” Jimin crosses his arms, a little discomforted, and then he takes a deep breath in and out, needing some oxygen courage for what he’s about to say.  “I don’t get it,” he directs his gaze to the side, staring intently to the wall because he doesn’t think he can take looking at Yoongi right now, “why are you bothering giving me more things to dislike about you when you could try going the other direction?”

Silence is Jimin’s only reply. So, Jimin musters the balls to look at Yoongi straight on, and oh boy, Jimin’s happy he did because Yoongi's gaping mouth is hilarious. He tries to hold back the snicker that’s threatening to come out, but he’s unsuccessful.

“S-shut up,” Yoongi stutters, Jimin’s laughter to thank for his trance break, “you, you can’t just say stuff like that and not mean it,”

“Good thing I meant it then,” Jimin mumbles, looking to his nails in fake disinterest, “I mean, way to give up without even trying,”

“But…” Yoongi trails off and that trail remains dry. So, Jimin shrugs his shoulders because he doesn’t have much else to say from there either. An odd nod exchange is done and then together, they awkwardly head back to BTS’s designated waiting room.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two days later, Yoongi asks Jimin on a ‘date’. It’s set-up in the ‘hey, wanna grab some late night ramen at the corner store?’ fashion, but Jimin sees Yoongi’s cheeks reddening when he asked and feels Yoongi's knuckles brush against his more than once on the walk back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A few more days and Yoongi does grab his hand in the back of the van between schedules. In a blink, Jimin’s once empty left hand is being held, and it’s nice. Jimin kind of kicked himself for not noticing how beautiful Yoongi’s hands were before then.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two weeks go by and Jimin hasn’t experienced any Bloomings. He can feel Yoongi’s eyes on him, watching for red, freshly cried eyes and a scratchy tone of voice. Jimin tries to ignore him, especially when a Blooming does show up a week later.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jimin decides to take initiative this time by showing up to Yoongi’s studio with food. Yoongi miraculously pulls away from whatever he was doing and eats with Jimin. They chat and why didn’t they do this more often?   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Four weeks go by and one night, Jimin decides to drink with some old friends. He arrives back to the dorm super late or super early depending on who you ask. Jimin sees Yoongi from the entrance way, still awake on the couch with his laptop screen’s light illuminating his smooth features.  Yoongi shuts said laptop when Jimin trips over his own feet to get closer to Yoongi and then, huh, Jimin’s being helped to his room? He looks to the pale cheek, so close and soft that Jimin presses a gentle kiss to it. Jimin is promptly dropped to the ground and all he can see from his view on the floor are two feet scurrying away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

About two months later, and a few kisses later, Jimin tells Yoongi it’s been three months since his last Blooming. It’s the best kind of warmth he’s feeling, both from the confession and the deep yet chaste kiss they shared just beforehand. Yoongi from there doesn’t say but does with his large gummy smile and encasing embrace, gripping onto Jimin tightly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Not a word,” Jimin says to Hoseok, who has been snickering periodically since the latest hair salon trip. Taehyung, Jungkook, Jin and Namjoon all give Hoseok and Jimin curious looks, obviously not privy to the inside joke.

“Nice hair,” Yoongi says, smirk large but cat-like, “colour suits you,”

“Oh, don’t you start,” Jimin smack Yoongi’s bicep, who’s sporting a new mint hair colour.

“I do like it,” Yoongi whispers to Jimin alone in his studio later on, “I get it if you—“

“I like it too,” Jimin quickly replies, fingers brushing through his new yet reminiscently orange locks, “I think I’ll even grow to love it, if you know what I mean,”

His obnoxious wink finally put a full, genuine smile on Yoongi’s face.   

“Should I hold back on marigolds for our anniversary bouquet then?” Yoongi continues to tease, interlocking their fingers and bringing them to his lips.

“Ugh,” Jimin tsks, nose scrunching up with distaste, “war flashbacks,”

The idiot does end up giving him a marigold focused bouquet, though Jimin immediately threw it into a passing trash can. The one laughing in the end was Jimin, because off Yoongi zoomed after the flowers. His arms fished around for a few minutes and out pops something shiny and gold.

“You er,” Jimin curses, tears welling while his lips quiver into a gargantuan grin, “only you would put a ring into a bouquet of my vomit flowers,”

“Marry me?” Yoongi says from down on one knee.

“yes, you fool,”

And to Jimin’s disbelief, they lived happily ever after like all those damn romance novels.

 

 

                                                                                                                            The End