~~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yoongi’s not sure what he feels. Angry? Upset?

Maybe blank is the best description.

He grabs the first coat he can reach off the hook, throwing it over his shoulders as he storms to the front door. He briefly registers Namjoon’s surprised call before the door slams shut behind him.

What the .

Jimin and Kim Seokjin are friends – close friends, even. Close enough to call each other old friend and angel.

Did no one think to inform Min Yoongi? Did anyone care?

What the .

His feet hit the pavement in that same direction he always takes in moments like these. A familiar path cutting through the city, framed by the streetlamps and sounds of people bustling around him. His phone buzzes in his pocket to seemingly no end – and as much as he’d like to ignore it, Yoongi will never be able to consciously inflict pain or worry on someone else. When he steps through the entrance of his destination, waving lightly at the barista and settling into his favourite booth at the back of the cosy, late-night café, he slips his phone out to finally respond.

 

 

~~

 

 

 

 

~~

 

 

Namjoon is too ing good for Yoongi and it needs to be said. Namjoon would know where Yoongi went, knows where he finds his peace and gathers his thoughts when the world becomes too much – but he doesn’t chase, because he also knows that sometimes Yoongi just needs his space, and he never makes Yoongi feel guilty for it.

Yoongi is halfway inclined to answer yes, because Namjoon means comfort. It’s the reason Yoongi sought out this one café, locked away in the backstreets of Seoul. It’s the only place serving coffee in the nearby radius of their apartment that stays open late (nearly all night, in fact), and is the coffee good. The barista working night shift knows him, knows his order and his table, but never asks questions, never intrudes on Yoongi’s quiet solitude. It’s the perfect haven.

However, Yoongi knows he can’t bring Namjoon here. He needs time to calm down and collect his thoughts (and time to plot revenge on Kim Seokjin, which Namjoon would probably object to).

The barista sets Yoongi’s coffee down in front of him with a warm smile, which Yoongi offers back as he finally taps out a response.

 

 

 

Yoongi cries a little inside – Namjoon would stay up all night if Yoongi didn’t come until dawn, just to make sure he’s okay. Too. Good. For this world.

Yoongi just sits for a while, sipping at his coffee with headphones slotted over his ears – they’d still been around his neck when he’d fled the apartment, and thank god because Yoongi still doesn’t know how to be alone with himself despite that also being one of his favourite modes of existence.

The ding of the shop’s doorbell makes Yoongi look up, because this place is nearly always empty at this hour, and he promptly regurgitates his (thankfully, small) mouthful of coffee onto his (thankfully, black) sweater. Unfortunately, the newcomer notices this, making direct eye contact with Yoongi and ensuring that Yoongi knows his embarrassing existence has been witnessed.

Yoongi’s head thrums, heartrate spiking and blood rushing until it sounds like the ocean lies solely in his ears – which is weird, because there’s no way Jimin, real live Jimin in the flesh knows who Yoongi is. Right now, Yoongi’s just that freak in the corner of the shop who never learnt to drink without a sippy cup.

Jimin’s just staring because Yoongi’s an idiot making a fool of himself for no apparent reason. Yoongi’s not sure whether that’s worse.

Yoongi tracks Jimin’s movement as he finally stumbles forward and grabs a wad of napkins from the front counter. Before Yoongi can even consider his own demise, Jimin’s crouched in front him and ing dabbing at Yoongi’s sweater with the ing napkins what the .

“Oh god, are you okay?” Jimin asks and Yoongi falls in love – after all, why wouldn’t an angel have an angel’s voice? Yoongi’s resoundingly not okay. Jimin’s looking at him with this look, like he doesn’t currently have his hand pressed against Yoongi’s chest and oh god he can probably feel my heartbeat oh my god.

“Fine,” Yoongi chokes out, forcing his fingers to stop gripping the mug so hard lest he make yet another scene, instead turns his hands to his head to drag his headphones down to his neck. “Just dandy.”

Jimin giggles – giggles – and waves at the table as he stands up. “Can I – do you mind if I sit with you?”

Yoongi’s pretty sure there’s not a bone left in his body. “Oh- , yeah, sure,” he manages, sharply pulling his phone and coffee towards himself to give Jimin room (and if he spills a bit of his coffee on the table in his haste, no one mentions it). The coffee is forgotten, faint sounds of music spills from the headphones hanging around his neck, and Yoongi actually kicks himself under the table for the words that spill out of his mouth next. “You’re Jimin, right?”

Jimin, to his credit, doesn’t seem in the least bit surprised. There’s no way for Yoongi to tell how many followers his study blog has from the outside, so maybe he really just is that famous with fans approaching him all the time. Cool, whatever.

“Yeah,” Jimin responds, eyes crinkling as he slides into the seat across from Yoongi. “It’s pretty late, why are you out here alone?”

Yoongi shrugs, finally managing to pull his gaze away to stare into his rapidly cooling coffee. “A not-friend betrayed me and I’m plotting his untimely death,” Yoongi admits truthfully, eyes narrowing. This is all Kim Seokjin’s fault, he reminds himself.

(For the record, Yoongi has absolutely no plans to kill Kim Seokjin. He may not understand the inner machinations of Kim Seokjin’s mind, but Yoongi trusts Namjoon’s taste – and if Namjoon trusts Kim Seokjin, then Yoongi does too. On a faint level, Yoongi recognises this – but he also knows that at some point, he will have his revenge on Kim Seokjin: Backstabbing Traitor.)

“Not-friend?” Jimin asks quizzically. Yoongi looks up just in time to see Jimin lower his chin into his hands, elbows perched on the table to balance his head upright. Yoongi’s very aware that he only has a handful of selfies as his baseline but, if it’s possible, Jimin is even more perfect in person.

“It’s a long story,” Yoongi says, pursing his lips. “Let me buy you a drink.”

Jimin smiles. “It’s okay!” he says quickly, raising his chin to wave his hands in front of him. “You don’t have to.”

Yoongi scoffs without thinking about it, already swinging his legs out from under the table. “There’s no way you came here to not get something,” he counters, pushing himself upright. “Besides, I’m going to get myself something anyway, so it’s no big deal.”

Jimin’s staring into Yoongi’s mostly-full coffee mug still sitting on the table when he responds, a soft smile on his lips. “Okay, thanks.” By the time he turns his head to look at Yoongi properly, Yoongi’s met with a full, thousand-watt beam. “Just get me whatever.”

Yoongi takes his chance to turn away from Jimin before his weak little heart explodes, stumbling towards the counter where the barista is giving him a knowing look. Without pausing, he rattles off two orders – he hadn’t actually planned on getting himself anything, but his coffee probably is gross and cold by now. It’s too late by the time he realises that he’s just recalled Jimin’s seemingly favourite coffee order, given how it kept cropping up on his blog – Yoongi’s not even sure when he memorised it.

For ’s sake, he scolds inwardly. You’re a ing stalker and he knows it.

He waits until the pair of mugs slide across the countertop before returning to Jimin, even though the barista normally brings his drinks to the table when the café isn’t busy. Any extra time for Yoongi to compose himself is welcome at this point.

“Mm, that’s so good,” Jimin says once he’s lowered the mug from his lips, making a face that is instantly and permanently cemented into Yoongi’s brain. “My favourite.”

“Lucky guess,” Yoongi says nonchalantly as he slides back into the booth, like he didn’t already know everything about Jimin’s coffee tastes.

Jimin smiles at him, mug cupped between two hands with his face hovering just above the steam – and Yoongi’s a fool for being so gone already. “Thanks, Yoongi.”

What?

Yoongi tries to ask, mouth already open because how the does Jimin know his name – but it’s too late, Jimin already moving on and away whatever the hell that was.

“So, I’ve got time,” Jimin begins, blowing the steam over the lip of his mug. “Want to tell me your long story?”

“Uh,” Yoongi says intelligently, because no, you can’t hear this story because it’s about you while simultaneously yes, I will tell you everything, you deserve the world.

Jimin sticks his lip out in an overexaggerated pout. “Aw, come on, I’m curious.”

Yoongi’s mind is made up.

“There’s this...guy,” Yoongi starts, looking anywhere but directly across from him because Jimin already looks way too enraptured in Yoongi’s story. “He’s – wait, no, let me start from the beginning.”

Jimin chuckles, which Yoongi takes as a good sign.

“My roommate has been hardcore crushing on this one person for ages, and I mean ages,” Yoongi explains, leaning in for effect. “I won’t reveal the poor victim’s name for privacy reasons, but trust me, Namjoon’s got it bad.”

“Namjoon,” Jimin says softly, like he’s tasting the word in his mouth.

Yoongi nods. “My roommate,” he repeats, although there’s a weird feeling in his stomach that confusion over roles in the story is not the reason Jimin is giving him that funny look.

“So anyway,” Yoongi hurries on, because there’s too much going on in his head right now to focus on any one thing. “This person, we’ll call them Princess-”

Jimin snickers. “Princess?”

“Princess,” Yoongi confirms. “Princess, that lying , decides to send a link in the group chat to a Tu- to a Twitter account,” Yoongi corrects at the last second, avoiding Jimin’s skeptical stare.

“Princess pretends they don’t know this guy, they just like the aesthetic, because why tell the truth?” Yoongi, too involved in his own story, throws his hands up in exasperation. “Turns out, surprise! Princess does know the person behind the account and was actually lying to me all along!”

Jimin nods thoughtfully, and they fall into silence. Yoongi takes another gulp of his coffee, which he should know by now is a terrible idea.

“So,” Jimin begins finally, staring into Yoongi’s soul with a -eating grin Yoongi’s seen too many times from his friends before. Oh no. “Did you like my stuff?”

At least this time, Yoongi manages to keep his mouthful of coffee somewhere internal to his body, rather than on his sweater – it’s unfortunate that location happens to be in his lungs, but he counts his blessings that’s he’s only choking in front of Jimin this time, which is slightly better, right?

“What?” Yoongi finally coughs out, holding a napkin over his mouth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I-”

He knows it’s too late, he’s been caught. Jimin just laughs, like the demise of Yoongi’s entire body and being is funny to him. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Yoongi drops his head into his hands, hiding his face. “Fine, yes, okay, it’s good.”

“Just good?” and Yoongi finally understands why Kim Seokjin and Jimin are friends.

“I’m not big on studying,” Yoongi admits, staring over the top of his fingers at Jimin, who looks mildly insulted. He sticks his tongue out at Yoongi, mocking.

“And yet you still follow,” Jimin points out, skirting the obvious. Yoongi doesn’t help him, so Jimin continues. “What do you like to do, Yoongi?”

There it is again, his name. Even if Jimin had checked him out after that one message, there’s no way he could possibly know Yoongi or Yoongi’s name. He doesn’t attach any of his personal details to his public accounts, not even on SoundCloud – and there’s certainly no photos of him online, except maybe on his friend’s accounts but they’ve never tagged Yoongi directly. How, exactly, does Jimin know who he is?

“I make music, got my degree in arts with a focus on music production and composition and I’m just kind of...seeing where that goes.”

Jimin nods. “Of course, duh, the rapping and stuff...wait. You’re into music composition?”

Yoongi freezes and lowers his hands, bites his tongue and regrets it immediately. “Yes?”

“You’re the music comp anon!” Jimin cries, pointing at Yoongi. “I was wondering what that was about!”

“Music comp anon,” Yoongi deadpans, sinking further into his seat. “I had a nickname?”

“I thought it was really sweet, but I don’t normally get a lot of asks from anonymous users,” Jimin muses. “That explains it, though.”

“Can we stop talking about me,” Yoongi grumbles, grimacing. “You haven’t told me anything about you.”

“Me?” Jimin says, a surprised note creeping into his voice. “There’s nothing to know about, I’m not exciting.”

“It’s true, you’re studying all the time and that’s pretty boring,” Yoongi agrees, grinning when Jimin pouts. “But that’s not what I meant. Why do you know my name?”

It’s Jimin’s turn to freeze, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. “Um. It was on your blog?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “Nope, wrong answer, try again.”

Jimin holds his hands up, palms facing out in a placating manner. “Okay, look, I know you already hate Seokjin-”

“Of course,” Yoongi hisses, pressing his fingers into his eyes. “What did he tell you?”

“Nothing!” Jimin says far too quickly. “Except maybe that you were looking at my blog. And a link to your music. And some photos.”

“Where did he get photos from? I don’t even know him!” Yoongi laments. He throws his head back and rests his neck against the curve of the booth seat.

“Namjoon’s twitter.”

“, okay.” Yoongi desperately tries to recall what Namjoon could’ve posted – there was that one time when they were drunk, and probably a few things at the old hotel...so, to conclude, only when Yoongi is looking his absolute worst. . “Why?”

“Seokjin was trying to find me a boyfriend, said he knew a whole group of gays that were single and lonely,” Jimin says sheepishly, twisting his fingers together. “It was just a joke. I think.”

“It’s not actually for the most part, but that probably oversimplifies it,” Yoongi comments. “I’m not even a part of that group, it’s only because Joon was acting funny that I even saw your stuff.”

“Fate,” Jimin shrugs, refusing to lift his eyes from the table. Yoongi tries to breathe and fails.

They sit in silence for moment, broken only by the sound of the coffee machine whirring up front as the barista does whatever it is baristas do. Yoongi swirls his coffee, watching as the separated milk mixes gently back into the otherwise dark dregs at the bottom of the mug.

Jimin’s the first to speak, which is slightly surprising given how meek he’s been acting for the past minute. “I hope you don’t think it’s too creepy, that I’m a stalker or something.”

That gets a laugh out of Yoongi; he can’t help it. Jimin looks hurt, so Yoongi rushes to explain himself before he ruins the situation any further. “Look, no offence, but if one of us is a stalker? It’s not you.”

Jimin smiles gentle, idly turning the spoon around his empty cup. “Really?”

Feeling bolder than he probably should, Yoongi leans forward. “Jimin, seriously? I have notifications set on your blog, I’d stay up late at night to see yours posts. I had a meltdown that Namjoon has documented liberally when I first saw your selfie.”

Jimin laughs, which makes Yoongi feel slightly better about putting himself out there like an idiot. “I schedule my posts, most of my followers are from America,” he explains breezily, like he’s not personally responsible for the torturous death of Yoongi’s sleep pattern. “And for what it’s worth? I have notifications on you too, even though it’s, like, never an original post.” Yoongi’s about to respond but Jimin pushes on before he can say anything, voice dropping in volume that Yoongi almost has to lean in to hear Jimin properly. “And when Seokjin first showed me your photo? Wow.”

Yoongi feels himself going bright red, but it’s (kind of) okay because Jimin’s flushing too. The barista is probably having a wild time over there, watching them act like fools – and for what? Yoongi doesn’t even know at this point.

“I was really excited when you stood up for me,” Jimin admits, tilting his head so far towards the ground that Yoongi can’t see his face anymore. “That was really cool of you.”

Yoongi shrugs, even if Jimin can’t see it. “I wasn’t going to let them say that about you.”

Jimin looks up with that smile, one that Yoongi already knows is going to break him again and again for the rest of time (if he’s so lucky to know Jimin that long). “Thanks.”

“It might be too forward, but do you want to take a walk with me?” Yoongi asks suddenly, hands gripping at the edge of the table. “It’s cool if you’ve got someplace to be or don’t want to or whatever so-”

“Yoongi,” Jimin cuts him off. “I’d love to.”

 

 

(And maybe they take a walk that’s longer than Yoongi’s ever casually walked in his life, and maybe Yoongi actually enjoys it despite his continued distaste for exercise. And maybe when Jimin starts shivering within ten steps of leaving the café, even if he tries to hide it, Yoongi notices and gives him Jimin his jacket to wear. And maybe Yoongi’s dying because it’s so god damn cold but Jimin looks so much better in Yoongi’s heavy black jacket than Yoongi ever will, with his hands balled up inside the sleeves and eyes crinkled and smile wide. Maybe – just maybe – Yoongi could get used to this.

Yeah, I could definitely get used to this).