Yoongi could argue that Jimin loves dancing more than anything else. Even in their trainee days, Jimin had spent an unhealthy amount of time in the practice room or the gym. Jimin was so utterly addicted and dedicated to his craft in every way. Energy was something that Jimin never lacked and dancing was a way for him to expel those youthful demons. There was a certain air of sophistication and promise that followed Jimin when he danced and Yoongi adored it. Jimin was a thunderstorm of frazzled magnificence.

Jimin always comes to him in the spring.

Jimin understands that Yoongi prefers to stay indoors most of the time. It’s nothing against the world or Jimin; Yoongi’s always been like that and he gets it. So he goes against his restlessness to find activities more Yoongi’s style.

“So I kind of made a fort.” Jimin popped his head in to the room where Yoongi was scrolling mindlessly on his bed, eyes barely recognizing the images on his screen. Jimin definitely caught him off guard and he furrowed his eyebrows in slight confusion.

“You what?” Instead of responding, Jimin bounced over and dragged his boyfriend in to the living room. Jimin had grabbed all the extra pillows and blankets stored away in the cabinets to put together a rather impressive fort around the couch.

“You’re ridiculous.” Jimin laughed, loud and obnoxious, as Yoongi pressed a butterfly kiss against his shoulder before climbing in. Yoongi watched Jimin with a grin as the younger shoved in a pile of snacks and drinks before climbing in with him.

“Aren’t we supposed to be on a strict ‘no junk food’ diet?” Yoongi pulled Jimin in to his arms and snatched one of the chip bags from the pile. It was stupid, the diet thing, he probably would benefit from gaining a little weight anyways.

“Oh well. I won’t tell if you won’t tell.” Jimin’s smile is bright even under the dim lighting of the makeshift fort and Yoongi can’t resist the temptation to kiss him.

Yoongi likes when Jimin is completely absorbed in the choreography of a song. There was no denying the strength and fluidity of Jimin’s power through dance. Jimin was the embodiment of composed sensuality whenever he danced and Yoongi loved it. Even though Jimin pushed himself hard, Yoongi understood that his passion fueled him.

Yoongi doesn’t mind that Jimin likes to dance until his legs burn, doesn’t mind that Jimin can’t rest until he gets a choreography point right. He understands, he does, because he knows how it feels and he knows that Jimin is capable of deciding when it’s time to step back and enjoy life.

Yoongi loves how warm Jimin was both physically and mentally. Jimin was all smiles and bright youth while Yoongi could, and has been, described as indifference itself. Jimin liked to press his tanned skin against Yoongi’s to compare their skin tones and laugh about how they were practically opposites. Jimin was always warm and his palms were clammy more often than not. Yoongi found Jimin unabashedly raw and incredible. Jimin was the intense heat of raging sunbursts, loud and untamed.

Jimin always comes to him in the summer.

Jimin hates sleeping in his own bed during the summer. His sheets feel too scratchy and the heat makes him feel restless. His body feels like it’s on fire, sweat building on his skin and all he wants is relief.

He always tried his best to slide in to the older’s bed without waking him and he always fails. Yoongi is already used to the intrusion and rolls on his back to accommodate him. He likes how Jimin’s hair feels soft and fluffy against his bare chest. Jimin fits almost perfectly against his side and Yoongi can’t help but tighten his grip on the younger’s waist. Even in the heat of the summer Jimin was a warmth that was never overwhelming.

“You always complain that it’s too hot,” Yoongi sighed, “but then you want to cuddle.” Jimin’s cool laugh tickles the skin of Yoongi’s chest and forces up goosebumps. Yoongi likes the constant teasing with Jimin, it’s fresh and rejuvenating. Jimin is a brat, but Yoongi loves him all the same.

Jimin runs his fingers along the dip of Yoongi’s collarbone and the older man relaxes almost unconsciously under his touch.

“Shut up.” Jimin doesn’t notice, or at least pretends not to notice, the halfhearted glare Yoongi is giving him and within seconds sleep has taken him.

Yoongi likes the warmth of Jimin’s breath against the shell of his ear; it reminds him of comfortable days spent with each other and of nights filled with peaceful sleep. Jimin’s body was sharp and fluid and Yoongi loved to trace his fingers over the muscles, loved to remind himself what was his.

Yoongi doesn’t mind the warmth that seeps out whenever Jimin kisses him, doesn’t mind it when Jimin raves passionately about his newest obsession or something he’s proud of. The warmth feels like both the passion and fierceness of love, something only Jimin could offer him. 

Jimin finds it weirdly admirable that Yoongi can spend so much time in the studio. Yoongi sacrifices so much of his sleep and health in order to pour his soul in to his music. Whether he was preparing for their next album or a solo mixtape, Jimin saw no difference in the older man’s work ethic. Yoongi loved expressing his message and vitality through music. Jimin loved to see Yoongi shine through his music. Yoongi was the burst of creative and inevitable time flow of falling leaves.

Yoongi always comes to him in the fall.

Yoongi spends his time researching places and restaurants to take Jimin to because new is just Jimin’s thing. Sometimes the places are a little out of his comfort zone but it’s worth it to see Jimin sparkle with excitement.

“I’m taking you out.” Jimin can’t contain his excitement as he nearly shoved Yoongi out the door, one of his shoes almost slipping away as he tried to shove the remainder of his heel in. Yoongi would have laughed if he hadn’t been pushed face first in to the hallway wall. Jimin cowered behind the quiet man and silently counted the seconds to his death.

“Behave, will you?” Yoongi whined as he rubbed the spot on his forehead he banged. Jimin knows that if he presses a kiss to the corner of Yoongi’s mouth he’ll be forgiven, so he does.

“Where are we going?” Jimin links his arm in Yoongi’s as they force their way through a crowd, eagerly checking his surroundings as if looking for a hint.

“You’ll find out. Just stay quiet.”

Jimin pouts for the rest of the walk but it quickly falls off his face when he realizes that Yoongi has brought him to a cat café.

“What-” Yoongi hushed him again and dragged his sputtering boyfriend inside.

Jimin giggles at their table as big bad Min Yoongi is cuddled by a rather large and fluffy cat, its tail tickling the underside of his chin. Yoongi frowns at him from across the table but still reaches over to grab Jimin’s hand in his own.

Jimin likes to sit in the studio and watch Yoongi produce. The combination of talent and flawless execution always manages to get him excited because Yoongi raps in a way that is so fiercely unadulterated that it sends Jimin reeling. To Jimin, Yoongi doesn’t just rap- he preaches and spits and forces out his word.

Jimin doesn’t mind that Yoongi spends so much time with only his music and thoughts, doesn’t mind when Yoongi sleeps so much that it makes Jimin’s own head hurt.  He knows that, no matter what, Yoongi will always make it up to him with sweet words and sweeter actions. 

Jimin figures it makes sense that Yoongi is always so cold. Yoongi was given pale, almost too pale, skin that could only burn under the oppressive heat of summer. Most women around him fawn over his beautifully pale skin, jealously overriding their knowledge of boundaries. Jimin thinks it’s funny how flustered Yoongi gets, as if appalled once again by the unnatural beauty standards of Korea. Still, Jimin can’t deny the radiant beauty that bursts from Yoongi. Yoongi was a snow storm of undeniable force and presence.

Yoongi always comes to him in the winter.

Yoongi can’t help but feel cold in his own bed. It’s hard enough to retain heat but winter is especially cold in Seoul. He can almost see how red his nose is even though his body is buried in a heap of blankets and it ticks him off.

The way he slides himself in to Jimin’s bed is natural, a melodious routine set by actions instead of words. Jimin is always too tired to fight it, as if he would, so he just lets Yoongi crawl in to his warm embrace. There’s a certain appeal in hugging Yoongi from behind and burying his nose in his hair because Yoongi always smells like shampoo. Even though it’s the kind they all use Jimin will nevertheless argue that Yoongi always manages to smell the best.

“This weather is damn awful,” Yoongi whispered as he turned to place a chaste kiss against Jimin’s lips. Jimin giggled against the older man’s mouth and nodded in agreement, “Why is Seoul so goddamn cold?”

“We get to cuddle though.” Yoongi can only roll his eyes and resettle on the bed as Jimin nuzzled his chin on the cool skin of his shoulder.

“You’re warm,” Yoongi muttered. His words are muffled by the extra pillow cradled against his chest but Jimin always hears him, “You’re always so warm.”

“You’re always cold.” Jimin can’t help but smile as he rubbed his nose against the back of Yoongi’s ear.

Yoongi doesn’t reply and Jimin knows that he’s fallen asleep. It’s so comfortable, their temperatures mixing together to create a pleasant warmth underneath the blanket. It never takes Jimin long to fall asleep with Yoongi in his arms.

Jimin likes the feeling of Yoongi’s ice cold fingers pressed against the back of his neck. It sends frigid chills down his spine, but it offers him a sense of security and familiarity. Calloused finger tips paired with a low voice laced with the rough drawl of a Daegu accent make Jimin feel at home.

Jimin doesn’t mind the cold when Yoongi slips underneath his covers at night, doesn’t mind it when a hand sneaks underneath the table at fan meetings to curl around his own. The cold feels like both the bitterness and sincerity of love, something only Yoongi could offer him.