Work Text:
Now,
”Hyung, put something on; I’m coming over.”
The call cuts off without any other explanation, and Yoongi is suddenly aware of the state his flat is in. It’s almost ten at night, and he’s still in sweatpants and nothing else—the very same pants that he’s been wearing for two days, since he came back home, tired and in an urgent need of a long and undisturbed sleep.
He doesn’t remember much more after that, but the dirty dishes in the sink and some food containers indicate that he has eaten something in the last twenty-four hours.
With the phone still in his hand, Yoongi goes to the bathroom and brushes his teeth and combs his fingers through his hair, trying to look a little more decent. After a look in the mirror, he decides a face cleaning is also needed to pass for a human being.
He’s getting out of the bathroom with the headband on when he hears the sound of the front door opening and closing. He had forgotten that he gave the code to Jimin a couple of months ago so he could enter without having to distract him if he’s working on something.
“Hyung! I came over!” shouts Jimin, gratuitously. “Are you decent?”
“It’s ok, Jiminah,” he grunts from the hallway. “I’m not dead.”
He finds the other boy at the open kitchen pulling takeout boxes from a plastic bag without asking permission.
Tang was sitting near the counter's corner, looking up at Jimin with waiting eyes and moving his tail, hoping for some food. The man sent him a flying kiss but didn’t reach for him this time.
“I ordered too much from the corner place near Jinnie and… oh my god! Put a shirt on, hyung; you are going to blind me someday if you keep flashing me like that!” Jimin screeches with a high tone while covering his eyes mockingly.
Yoongi rolls his eyes, yawns heavily, stretching arms and all, and goes to find a t-shirt. “You are exaggerating. I can’t be that ugly.”
~~~
July 2025,
Half a year ago, Jimin had told Yoongi that he was looking for a new apartment. The older man remembered the nice family from abroad that had left the building near his because they were being moved to Busan. He spoke with his apartment property agency and asked for the place that was still free. The answer was positive, so Yoongi passed the information to Jimin on the very same day.
“Ah! That’s nice, right? I will talk to the agency then.”
And that was it.
“I like the views from here,” Jimin excused when it was clear that his nonchalance surprised Yoongi.
“The flat is facing north,” he deadpanned.
“I mean the views from your house, Hyung!” Jimin laughed at his face. “When you leave the curtains open, that’s it.”
The living room French windows face the openness, and the lack of snoopy neighbors allowed him to keep the curtains open from time to time.
So two weeks later Jimin moved, and Yoongi almost made a happy booty dance in his living room.
~~~
August 2025,
“Hyung, can I come over?” asked Jimin over the phone. “The flat is too empty.”
It was some days after Jimin moved, but he had been sleeping at Jeongguk’s home; he still has a mostly empty apartment, and so Yoongi couldn’t say no to him.
The problem was that he had just arrived home from some days out, and he was planning to sleep. He was already showered and in his pajama bottoms, fed the cat, and even cuddled him a bit to say goodnight.
“Yeah, do you need me to mix something for you to eat?” Yoongi replies.
“Nah, I already had dinner before I came back home.” A yawn is loud through the speaker in Yoongi’s ear. “I will be there in five.”
The five minutes felt like an eternity.
He put on a t-shirt and then a sweatshirt over it because it was cold and waited for him, stretched on the couch, face first on Tang’s tummy. Five minutes must have been indeed an eternity because the intercom's ringing made him jump, snapping him out of the deepest sleep.
When he opened the door, Jimin was getting out of the elevator and greeted him with a smile and a small backpack over his shoulder.
“Hey,” was the short wave Yoongi made while letting him pass inside his house.
The younger took off his shoes at the door and went inside and directly to the living room, letting himself down on the sofa with a deep sigh, the cat nowhere to be seen.
“Thank you, hyung,” said Jimin, “I still need to call and buy some stuff, but for now it’s only the bed and a super perfectly organized wardrobe room. Useless.”
Yoongi hummed in agreement, reaching his side over the sofa without sitting, but not knowing what to do, he was so tired…
“Are you ok?” he asked anyway, because there was no other acceptable option.
Jimin folded his legs over the couch, scooting back to the corner to let Yoongi sit on the other side.
"Yeah," Jimin answered. “It’s just that when I got home it was so quiet and dark and impersonal… I couldn’t imagine going to sleep yet.”
"Hm."
Jimin curled up a bit over the cushions and looked up at him still hovering over the sofa and continued, “I thought that after so many months in the military and then going with Jeongguk to film season 2, I would want to be left alone and enjoy the freedom a bit, but…”
He stopped talking, looked the older one in the eyes, and frowned a little before sitting straight again.
“Fuck, sorry, hyung," he cursed with a hoarse voice. “You are tired. I shouldn’t have come. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Yoongi halted him with a rising hand before lowering it over the headrest first and over Jimin's head after, swiping his thumb over the forehead and the scowl before shaking his head. “I said it’s ok, Jiminah, you can stay. It’s just that I’m falling asleep on my feet and I can’t keep you company now.”
He sighed, but at the same time he started to yawn, making a distorted face and letting out a tear from his shining eyes like a baby. He turned and left the other man in the living room in favor of the bedroom that had been drawing him for hours.
When he reached for the hall that brings him to the rest of the house, Yoongi stood and turned towards Jimin again and asked, "Do you keep the couch, or are you coming with me?”
He hadn’t finished the sentence that Jimin was already on his feet and followed him to the main room without a word.
The morning after, Jimin woke up with a red face, blurry, burning eyes, and a runny nose that made him tear a bit. Yoongi should have changed the bedsheets before offering it to a cat-allergic man.
And Jimin had forgotten to take his “love medication," as he called it, because it allowed him to be in a love relationship with any cat in hand. “They say one wants the unattainable, right? So we have to cheat against life.”
~~~
August 2025,
It was hot in LA, but with the night came the chill, and Yoongi was cross-legged on his bed with his portable keyboard, sweatshirt on, and the laptop on.
A knock on the door distracted him from the screen, and he rumbled some questioning nonsense.
“Hey, Hyung.”
It was Jimin, of course, fresh from a shower, hair wet and spiky, pajamas and glasses on. “Have you eaten already?” Jimin asks.
Yoongi returned to the task in front of him, fingers on the keys, continuing the melody he was working with. He nodded with his head but answered with "later."
Jimin approached him on the bed and lay belly down on it, watching the screen and inquiring, “What are you doing?” Even if it was pretty obvious.
“I got inspired,” he replied. “I couldn’t leave it for tomorrow; I don’t want to forget about it.”
Jimin groans and sighs. “You have been enclosed at the studio all day, and now you get inspired? What the hell are we doing here all together if we can’t inspire you?” He grumbled.
It had been a hard day at the studio with lots of redoes and useless results that made everyone mad and snappish.
“You could have come with Hoba and me to the beach; it was a nice sunset.”
The two had left the studio too pent-up and in need of fresh air and decided to take a car to the coast before returning to the big house. Jin and Jeongguk had already gone back to the house some time ago to rest (and play video games together). The dinner was in process when Yoongi arrived with Namjnoon and Taehyung, but the rapper retired to his room to rest, and then he just forgot.
But Jimin knew that that’s not how Yoongi works or how you should treat inspiration, so he just took out his phone from his pocket and waited there, typing and scrolling, until Yoongi unplugged the headphones. Twenty minutes later, Yoongi woke him up by shaking his shoulder.
"Let's go."
Jimin reheated some of the food that was waiting for them in pans and pots and bowls while Yoongi sat near Namjoon. He was still at the table but with a book in his hands, glasses on, and clearly post-shower; he had fresh and pink skin.
“We will try again tomorrow, Joon," whispered Yoongi, arm on the table and head resting on his hand, noticing his friend not giving them any attention. It was a hard day, but they had been working together for too many years to be too resentful of each other.
“Yeah, hyung, this one said he got inspired when he got home,” Jimin snickered, setting some dishes in front of them. "Can you believe it? Such a genius we have.”
He was joking, and there was no malice in his voice, so Yoongi smiled gummily and pleaded innocent. "What can I say? I was watching a movie and just got inspired. Still a genius."
Namjoon lowered the book and finally looked at them, at Yoongi with curiosity and some hesitation.
“Is it good?” he asked, and the other couldn’t take offense because it had been a shitty workday and he himself felt like everything he had written and played had been bordering on mediocre.
“Yes. It’s good.” Yoongi answers, now with a proud and tender smile. “I will show you tomorrow," and so he started eating, thanking Jimin for the food.
They left for the studio early in the morning the day after, and Namjoon urged him to play the files. The notes and some singing sounded on the headphones for a couple of minutes.
When it ended, Namjoon slumbered on the backrest and sighed, “What the hell were you watching that got you that inspired?”
“Good?” Yoongi asked in reply.
“It’s lovely.” Namjoon grinned, lurching forward to wrap an arm around his head and kissing him soundly on top of it, making him shriek in fake annoyance.
~~~
August 2024,
It has been already more than a year since the scooter incident, but the anxiety still knocks on Yoongi’s body, sometimes, like a spreading sickness that makes his blood boil. He has to take support on a steady surface to not double over.
The instant memory of the days after it was made public makes him remember the embarrassment he experienced continuously and the shame the press and some agents from the Hybe company made him feel. Even now, it makes him want to cry; his stomach closes, and he can’t swallow because there’s a fucking ball stuck in his throat.
He hadn’t been able to lock himself in at home and let the time pass until the episode was forgotten by the media, because he had to keep showing up at the service. They have given him only a couple of days “for personal reasons” and then moved him to a more hidden position where he shouldn’t interact much with other people, less than he already was.
His parents had come to visit later, knowing that he would need some company, even if only to greet him home or prepare home-cooked meals and confirm that he eats some of them.
They stayed one week until they had to go back to Daegu, and Yoongi felt relief at the same time as misery.
All the members had called him during the week, not all at the same time, as if they had planned it in advance.
“It’s ok,” he answered to The Question. “I’m ok,” and yet the words felt thin in his mouth.
“Yeah, it’s shit," he agreed in a low voice. “The company is helping me deal with it.”
“No, there are no major charges.”
"Yeah, we just have to wait.”
But it was all shit.
“I wish I could be with you now.” Jimin whispered on the phone one night, and Yoongi couldn’t disagree; he wouldn't say no to some company. Jin was not the cuddling type, and neither was Yoongi, but some members were able to make it feel bearable and even made him miss it, from time to time.
“I have Tang," he replied, running his fingers through the cat’s soft belly; it was vibrating under his hand with all the purring.
“But Tang doesn’t understand; he just judges you if you don’t give him food or pets.”
“I don’t see the difference here, Jiminah," he joked.
“Well, genius. I would be the one giving you food and pets in this relationship," snarked back the younger. And well, there was absolutely no doubt about that.
Jimin had called him twice that week to tell him what he did in the military that day: how he was hurting all over the body because of the harsh training, but at least he had been able to take a hot shower at the end of the journey.
He explained to Yoongi about the dongsaeng that he and Jeongguk shared a group with and what the same maknae had been doing too.
Jimin talked, and Yoongi cleaned, or tidied, or changed his bedsheets, or even cooked, because he had to imagine what we would do if Jin or any of the others were able to come visit him. He would want to feel good, normal, and happy, so Jimin’s call made him activate a bit.
Besides, when the younger asked him, “What are you doing?" he didn’t want to lie or sound like he would rather just be in bed and not wake up for months; it would make them worry more.
Later they would say goodnight, and Yoongi would go to sleep with some feeling of accomplishment that helped him sleep better.
~~~
New Year’s Eve 2025,
The full team was gathered at Namjoon’s, the first time all together in the same safe space since months before.
They had been doing a lot of work with album promotion together, but all the time with the rush of timings, plannings, make-up, directions, and a long etcetera. It was tiring.
So them alone, at someone’s home, chilling and celebrating, was a rare occurrence. Last time was in LA but there’s was always someone else, or they were missing a member. Even at the beach, doing the live, they had been surrounded by cameras and strangers.
Namjoon was a good host; his house was always clean and tidy like a miracle, with sitting places for everybody even if they ended up sitting on the floor.
Yoongi was floating inside his mind, suppressing a bit the loud noise that the others were making because there was some drinking involved, and it ensured chaos and high voice notes.
He was curling up in a couch corner, watching the others, deciding if it was a correct moment to make a Live for the fans. They had been doing Live all day, for fuck's sake!
Taehyung and Jimin argued that they had to send Happy New Year wishes to ARMY. Jin and Hoesok thought they were not in the right stat of mind for it.
Jeongguk was always online these days and didn’t know what difference it would make.
Joon didn’t want to vote; he would do whatever the other decided to. And Yoongi was too sleepy to think about it.
In the end, the Live was made some time later, and it was good enough. Chaos erupted, laughs happened, and wishes were screamed after the countdown.
2026 started and every day that passed made Yoongi feel tighter and more nervous. Some years ago, on his last solo concert, the date seemed very far, and he looked over with anxiety to the normalcy to come back.
But it seemed impossible to go back to the team routine, a full tour lasting for months around the world.
He wasn’t sure if he would manage to do it without breaking down. Was his body ready for the overexertion? And his mind? 2025 happened too slowly, and yet it felt like it was not enough to feel ready for a new start; he needed more time to get to full capacity.
During the night, he had felt Jimin’s hands and body touching his, unconsciously giving him some of the support that he needed to feel anchored to the present and enjoy the moment they were sharing together.
He craved it, the feeling of belonging to this group, all these men that were his brothers and family.
He would do anything for them. Even go to a full-year World Tour to the end of his capacity.
He was getting sleepy, with his eyes closed, over the cushions, and someone was making fun of him, and yet he lost track of time until a hand shocked him awake.
“Hey, hyung. It’s time we return you home.” It was Taehyung's voice, words a bit slurred.
Yoongi agreed, happy to go, yawning and stretching a bit. His feet were cold under his legs, and his body was warm hidden under the puff jacket he hadn’t wanted to take out.
Someone tugged him up and guided him to the main door, saying goodbyes to the rest, with an arm curled around him. Everybody was leaving, or Namjoon was kicking them out; Yoongi wasn’t sure. Jeongguk looked fully awake and ready to go out and party, Yoongi was sure.
“Where did you throw your socks, Yoon?” Jimin was looking for them, without letting him go from his hold, as if Yoongi couldn’t stand on his feet alone. He didn’t mind, anyway.
They had asked for a driver to go there, and so they were going back the same way. Once left alone, in the middle between their buildings, Jimin took his hand and guided him again to the surface, but to the inside of his building, reaching the elevator.
Yoongi made a questioning noise.
“Of course you are coming over tonight,” answered Jimin knowingly. “I’m not letting you crash on your bed alone, whining over whatever has been eating you all night.”
Yoongi looked at him dreamily. It was as if the other could read his mind. He didn’t want to be alone.
“You ok, hyung?” Jimin whispered, not wanting to stir him more.
For the moment, Yoongi was perfect. The short nap he had taken on Joon’s couch had reset his brain, and suddenly all his anxious thoughts were gone, swept away like gentle waves washing the shore clean.
“Yeah,” he answered. “Happy New Year, Jiminah.”
~~~
August 2025,
It was early in the morning in LA, and Yoongi woke up before sunrise because his brain couldn’t shut up about work. Rhythms and words were playing in his head, waiting to be written down and played on the keys, so he had decided to go to the patio and write down everything he was feeling.
He was showering when he caught the sound of the bathroom door opening and shutting close, and soon enough somebody was entering the shower stall, big as it was, behind him.
He turned fast with his heart pounding hard in his chest but found Jimin behind him pushing him out from the showerhead so he could soak himself under the water, hands full of shampoo already.
“What are you doing?” asked Yoongi, with a hoarse voice, watching Jimin’s face and neck get wet, his gaze stopping before following the water down the rest of the body before him.
“Taking advantage of our dormitory era’s revival that we are doing here, 24/7, hyung. Don't you miss it?” answered Jimin, with a mocking face, eyes closed under the water and foam from his hair. “Do you want to stay there and watch me or turn and show me those pretty naked shoulders of yours?
Jimin flirting with him was common, sweet, and harmless, but Yoongi still couldn’t avoid blushing and groaning, embarrassed. But he couldn’t turn; his brain was safer with his back against the cold tiles, so he stayed there, skin still wet and soapy because he was washing himself when Jimin came in.
He stayed there, hypnotized with Jimin’s hands all over his body, rinsing, his long neck stretching up to let the water fall directly to his face. Yoongi could only caress himself over his shoulders and neck, slowly, trying to protect a bit his nakedness, feeling conscious about his soft chest and arms.
Jimin finished, letting the rinsing drag on to watch him in the eyes, asking without words if everything was ok. Finally, he stepped back to get out, smiling at him.
“It’s ok. Another time, maybe?” He winked at him and turned to take a towel to dry his skin a bit before getting out of the bathroom.
Yoongi stayed there for some seconds before catching his breath and heart rate to normal levels before noticing the state of his body, very noticeably aroused.
“Fuck.”
~~~
October 2024,
Two months after the scooter incident, the doorbell rang surprisingly. Yoongi wasn't expecting anyone. He had just arrived home from a long service journey; he had an early morning shift and then a free evening that he was planning to spend doing much to nothing.
He checked the intercom screen and found a short-haired head he would recognize anywhere.
“What the…” He opened the door, and there it was: Jimin, wearing his military uniform and a backpack over his shoulder and heavy black boots.
“Surprise!” was the greeting from the younger with a wide, half-moon-eyed smile. “You should talk to the doorkeeper downstairs; he let me in when I told him I wanted to surprise you.”
The rapper let him in and closed the door behind him.
“I have a leaving permit to go spend my birthday with the family, but I didn’t want to go today, so I’m staying in Seoul until tomorrow morning. Can I stay with you?” Jimin asked, taking out his boots.
Yoongi, still a bit speechless, nodded and hummed in agreement while, in his mind, he figured dates and hours, and yes, Jimin was turning thirty the morning after, and he had gone and forgotten about that. Well, not forgotten; he had not thought about that since the day before when a reminder had rung on his phone.
“Hey, Hyung?” Jimin drew his attention with a questioning look. He hasn’t noticed his vague reply.
“Of course, Jiminah.” He cleared his voice, trying to sound less affected.
Jimin smiled again, tenderly, and stared at him firmly before asking, lower this time, “Are you ok?”
Yoongi gulped, keeping eye contact for two seconds before avoiding it and staring at the end of the hall.
Was he ok?
He wasn’t sure.
He was tired and hungry. His heart was hammering in his chest because he hates surprises (everybody knows it), even the good ones. He’s still processing the fact that Jimin, whom he had not seen since almost a year ago, was here and Yoongi was so lost in the day-to-day routine that he had forgotten to check the calendar.
He's processing that the younger one decided to spend the only night in Seoul with him instead of going to his apartment.
They have been talking over the phone more or less often, especially since August, and Jimin kept saying, “I wish I could see you” every time, and Yoongi’s heart leaped a triple backflip on each occasion.
He felt a lump on his stomach, and he was getting sick, so he forced himself to remember to take some deep breaths, in and out, before answering.
“Yeah.” He nodded to emphasize the statement. And he spread his arms invitingly.
Jimin cried out happily and threw himself over to him in a tight hug, almost knocking them both over on the floor.
“Oh my God, Jimin! You are heavy!” screamed Yoongi when he lost his stand, stumbling two steps back until the other one was able to steady them, pulling him up in the air. “Fucker, Jeongguk is rubbing off on you, manhandling your elders like that.”
“I’m not heavy,” Jimin replied, carrying him to the living room just like that, with Yoongi trying to get out of the strong hold. “I’m fit as hell! I bet I could carry you on my back for miles, like we did on training camp.”
With that, Jimin left him down and caught sight of Tang, who had been sleeping curled on top of his cat tree and now was rubbing his body against Jimin’s boots and meowing, demanding attention.
Jimin cooed, with pity in his eyes, “Oh, sweetheart, I can’t play with you today, pretty.” He grimaced and turned to tell Yoongi, “I don’t have my medication with me. I will need some clean blankets if I don’t want to wake up in the hospital tomorrow.”
Jimin’s allergy to cats was a very heartbreaking condition because the man loved Tang, and the cat loved being spoiled by any visitor after the first ten courtesy minutes of home invasion and threatening gazes. Usually, if Jimin knew there was going to be a cat date day, he would bring his antihistamine tablets with him.
After diner, Jimine went to take a shower, and Yoongi changed the sheets and took out clean blankets from the cabinet to cover the couch surface.
They had been talking all evening about Jimin’s stay in the military or Yoongi’s work in civil service. They talked about how they missed working, playing, or singing. Luckily, Jimin and Jeongguk kept entertaining themselves with some dances or singing in the showers whenever they could. They were trying to find some familiarity and ease the harshness of living in the military system.
Jimin admitted that without Jeongguk’s company, he would have deflated months ago, his hidden introvert personality unable to light the fire needed to endure the service, the difficult conditions, and the hard training that is too much to stand alone. Too many new people, and let’s not talk about the idol and famous person handicap.
Namjoon knows how to lead. Jin is the perfect hyung for any person; Hoseok is everything but an introvert and survives any situation; and Tae could befriend a stone with his endearing personality. They agreed. “But me…”
Yoongi could see what he was referring to. He has had to move a lot of bureaucracy to be given the civil service instead of the active service because of his shoulder, but he's only thinking about having to pass through it, even without his injury… It would have been very hard for him too.
“It’s just that I’m afraid of getting too used to Gguk’s company, and he will get tired of me.” Jimin confided in him. “There are some days I can’t stand not having him in my sight because I wouldn’t know what to do if he’s gone for too long. It’s mortifying, Hyung; I feel like a leech.”
That was an ugly emotion to have about oneself. Yoongi was sorry Jimin felt that way because there was no way Jimin could be anything but the best support anyone would dream about having when being in a difficult situation.
But who takes care of the needs of the people you rely on with your issues?
“I don’t want to be alone, hyung," murmured the younger one, late at night, nose burrowed under the duvets, lights off, and already wished him goodnight.
Jimin didn’t move much during the nights, so he was allowed to share the big bed with Yoongi. Also, he wasn’t an extreme hugger, so Yoongi could be sure his sleep was guaranteed up to a point.
Nobody could joke about his rest, because of the difficulties he has had to sleep with along the years. If he didn't have to stay up until late, then it was not being able to get asleep, or sleep for at least four hours before interruptions, or have to sleep on whatever surface he was leaning on during the longest working days.
The couches at the studios had known about his dreams more than his own pillows.
“Love you, hyung.” Jimin said goodbye the morning after, leaving for Busan.
“Happy Birthday, Jiminah," replied the rapper.
And to show how much Yoongi loved his dongsaeng, he made sure to get some antihistamine tablets secured on his first-aid kit from then on.
Because love was very important to keep safe.
~~~
Now,
The new album, ARIRANG, is ready and closed. Schedules are fixed, music videos are filmed, and they are in the editing process at the moment. Promotion shorts and collaborations are on the agenda.
Too many hours of work had been left out of the album. They have overworked for months and produced too many songs. Yoongi feels sad about the orphaned works because maybe these were not good enough for a comeback album, but then they should erase them if they are not good enough, right?
That would be sadder. Even selling them to other people doesn’t feel right because it’s theirs and the team played and sang beautifully on each one. Songs that talk about life, the future, and sorrows; dreams; love and freedom…
The phone rings, and Yoongi already knows who is on the other line because he has been in his studio for too long without giving any sign of life to anyone.
“Jiminah,” he acknowledges on speaker mode, keeping an eye on the computer screens and keyboard, “where are you?”
The members had early morning practice for hours today, and after having lunch together at the building, they had dispersed to do their own agendas. Jimin and Hoba had a medical check appointment, if Yoongi doesn’t remember wrong, but that was hours ago.
“You are not answering the door. Are you not at home?” is the reply the younger one gives him, with a complaining voice.
He was indeed not at home. He checks on the clock, and it's already past eleven at night, not a usual time for Jimin to come over without warning.
“No… Sorry, I got distracted at the studio."
“Oh, it's ok. We will see you in the morning then? Early practice again.” Jimin reminds him, and Yoongi groans; he completely forgot about overflowing schedules. “Go home, hyung; you are too old to sleep on that couch now.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, saving tabs and files, ready to leave. “I will call for a car and go now. Do you want to go in? Don't wait for me outside.”
“I’m going back to mine, don't worry. Goodnight!”
The call ends when Yoongi is putting on his jacket and leaving for the door, stretching his back, shoulders, and arms, still hurting from the exercise in the morning and dreading the day after.
When the driver leaves him in front of his apartment building, he doubts for a couple of seconds before walking around it to reach the one where Jimin lives.
When Jimin opens the door with a wide smile, already in his pajamas, Yoongi is glad he changed directions.
“Blond again?” he asks, seeing the fluffiest blond hair again on Jimin’s head.
“How do I look?” Jimin lets him in, and they sit in the living room, where the TV is on with some variety show playing on low volume and a glass of some kind of dry drink rests on the side table.
“You know you always look good” is his reply, taking the glass and sipping it testingly. Plain soju, no bottle, fancy. Easy for the early morning schedule tomorrow.
“But you always answer, so I keep asking.” Jimin responds pettily. “Were you really working that late? What on?”
“Hm. This and that," he sighs, staring at the other seated beside him with his legs folded over the cushions. A thin bandage is covering one ankle, and Yoongi remembers that the dancer made a comment at some point this morning. He reaches for it with his hand and touches it softly; he lowers his head before asking, “Can I stay here tonight?”
There’s a pause for a moment, but when Jimin answers, he does it without doubt, “Of course."
He can feel some emotion coming from the other and also from his own throat, so before it becomes too much, he stands up. “Ok then, this old man wants to sleep.”
It’s early for them; they are used to being awake until late hours in the night since they were young, but this week working journeys are demanding, and Yoongi's eyes hurt from staring at his screens all evening.
September 2025,
Being home after so long in LA feels like waking up from a dream, and time is again flowing in the right direction and pace.
The working camp in LA was several months long, and in the end all the members and producers' team finished so much work that they could fill a triptych album at least. It feels like a year has passed, but at the same time he was petting Tang goodbye yesterday.
A cleaning service tidied the house when he left, and a pet nanny made sure that the black cat was fed, cleaned, and mused over a couple of times a week. Besides, his parents had come some days, even though Yoongi had an automatic feeder and water tank at home for Tang.
“What are you going to do during the tour next year, dear?” His mother worried about these days.
Yoongi will think about that when the time comes, but there are some nice options he will be able to afford.
He had left the handbag in the hall by the door when he arrived home and went directly to the living room for a nap on the couch. The rest of the baggage would arrive the morning after, so he just had to rest, having a couple of days free to recover from jet lag before starting a new cramped calendar.
His phone, in his back pocket, kept pinging with messages because some members still had energy to spend and a trillion things to explain even after so many weeks living together again like teenagers. Everyone's attention was on their devices.
Yoongi’s mind was low on energy but, at the same time, was going through so much that he could keep working at that moment, his brain still in production mode out of habit.
He still had some files without demo singing that we had wanted to finish before returning home, but they had run out of time. Yoongi will have to work on it alone, even aware that the results would not make it to the album.
“I’m not sure what I want to say with this comeback,” was what he had confided to Namjoon on the flight to LA before this summer production camp started. “I feel stuck.”
Namjoon understood and felt the same. “All I know is that I know nothing, right? What’s left is just the feeling of being too small for the world," is the leader's answer. “What can you talk about? It feels vain."
Yoongi stared at Namjoon, wondering how that brain must work and what kind of thoughts floated there every day.
But when they arrived at the camp, there was a full team to help the members brainstorm, express, and discuss where they wanted to go with this new opportunity.
Yoongi had felt empty of words on the way over and overflowed with inspiration when they got back to Seoul.
The rapper even thought about asking Jimin to come up with him keep singing for him because that was what he needed to feel better. But when the car left them in front of the apartments and Yoongi told him, “You can stay," the other had declined softly.
“I need to work on my independence, remember?” said Jimin. And yet the words sounded like something he was trying to believe more than something he already did. “I think after almost six weeks of full camp experience my separation anxiety is screaming for some alone time; maybe I’m cured.”
Jimin was joking, but Yoongi knew it was hard for him lately; they had talked about this in LA.
“Oh, sure.” he let the other man have his way.
So they had separated, and Yoongi had to brood over his own separation anxiety after too many days in company.
It would not last more than a few hours.
~~~
Present,
“Are you happy?” Jimin asks Yoongi a minute before BTS goes out on stage to start a year-and-a-half global tour.
The crowd roar is muffled but continuous, like a sound baseline rising up and down on adrenaline, waiting for the concert to start at any moment.
In-ears are being revised, and mics are already in their hands.
Yoongi is taking his deep breaths and calming down his body for what is going to happen soon.
Jimin is holding his hand tightly and shaking like a leaf. His voice, steady anyhow, is low and private only for Yoongi to hear.
The rapper is holding him back so hard that the younger one will have marks later. He wants to curl around that hand, arm, and body and be held in there forever, but they have to jump outside.
"Yeah," Yoongi answers easily, “I'm very happy.”
“Yeah. Me too.” Jimin concedes, bringing their holding hands to his mouth and kissing the intertwined knuckles. “Are you ready to show them how happy you are, babe?”
The endearment makes Yoongi whimper on the inside; he has the sudden need to shake his legs, and so he does, jumping a little.
He groans once he stops. “I love you, Jiminah.” His voice is quivering.
He can't stop it. He doesn't say it frequently because the feeling is too overwhelming to express with words even if, as a lyricist, that's exactly what he does better.
Jimin's eyes are big as saucers, but he’s smiling incredulously. “Little fucker, you have to say it at ten seconds to start a concert?” But he hugs him and gives him a cute kiss at the temple before answering. “I love you too, hyung. Tell me again after, ok?”
It's an empty request because Jimin knows the L word is reserved for once a millennium, but he will wait as long as needed to relish it next time.
“Let's go.”
~~~
Some nights before,
They were trying to sleep some days ago.
Jimin came again over to Yoongi’s place, and they had dinner on the kitchen counter and stools, talking about the day and Jimin’s parents, who had already arrived to the capital to attend the concert.
They talked again, slumped on the coach, Tang curled up on Yoongi’s lap, and Jimin looked sadly at it because he shouldn't risk touching him because the medication was not foolproof enough. It would be stupid to get sick before the concert when he could avoid it. So the cat stayed with Yoongi.
After, they were curled around each other after kissing for long minutes, legs entangled and hands all over each other.
Yoongi was falling deep on the sensations of body to body, Jimin’s warm and soft skin under his fingertips, and muscles firm where his hands gripped and pressed a little. The blond boy was sighing and making soft sounds that made Yoongi’s libido rise, getting him hard only with it.
“Can I touch you?” he asked softly, without leaving Jimin’s lips for too long.
It’d been a long time since the last time they had gotten to this point, and sometimes Yoongi is so tired he can’t even touch himself alone. If he does, it’s fast in the shower to get rid of some tension in his muscles and nothing more.
But like then, slow, under the blankets, skin on skin, and kissing tenderly—it was not usual lately.
Jimin groaned like he’s a starving man and tugged him against his body. “Please. Yes.”
The older always asks first. And it is always difficult to ask, as if they had never done this before, as if they had not been in this relationship for years. But he always needs to ask first because it feels so intense and private to touch another person.
Yoongi’s hand went under Jimin’s underwear and found him hard already, hot and a bit leaky in his hand. He caressed him up and down with his palm, rubbing the head with it while his fingertips tingle the balls and some soft hair.
Jimin moaned in his ear because Yoongi needed to see, moving the sheets over with his arm and shoulder and pulling the briefs down, and he was getting shy.
“So pretty…”
He couldn’t believe how pretty Jimin still is, all over his body, his face, his hair, and also down there. He is pretty even sweaty because it’s hot under the blankets, and they were getting hotter every moment that passed. Their skin was starting to feel slippery, and Yoongi secretly loves how the body reacts and manifests what it’s feeling on the inside.
Felt like it’s so intense it can’t stay inside, like wanting to strip off your skin when it’s too hot under it.
Jimin, opening his legs a bit to help him maneuver better on his cock, was letting him do whatever he wanted. He had to let it happen like it was, savoring the moment and understanding how overwhelming it must be for Yoongi.
“I love you” was what Jimin can mutter when Yoongi went down, doubled over himself, to put his mouth on his hard cock. With one hand, Jimin caressed the other’s back, and his fingers tightened over his shoulder.
Yoongi was going down slowly, not wanting to hurt himself and not wanting to go too fast. He loves the sensation of the cock sliding inside his mouth even if in his head sometimes he still feels the shadow of rejection, like this should be so, so wrong and disgusting. But it’s not disgusting; the skin is soft, and the muscle is hard and hot on his tongue.
He choked a bit when he slid down too far and had to pull out to cough but returned to it immediately. Jimin’s breath caught, and he mumbled softly and encouragingly, “So good…”
He loves it; he loves Jimin and loves every part of him.
What Jimin makes him feel and what he makes him want to do.
“Let me ride you,” he begged.
That’s how they made love. Jimin is on his back over the mattress, hands sliding up and down Yoongi’s legs while he rid him slowly, taking his time to take him as deep as possible. Jimin let himself be used this way, watching the other seek his own pleasure in the sex.
Afterward, they stayed awake for a short time, letting the endorphins wash away slowly and the sleep came easily, thoughts about the incoming days already gone.
~~~
Present, Goyang day2 of Arirang Tour
Yesterday was crazy. Going out to sing and rap and dance for the audience had risen up all the energy levels needed to keep going for years of this.
He had forgotten the feeling of a full stadium cheering for them, flooded with lights coming from the ARMY Bombs. The fans were chanting and singing with them.
He also had forgotten how his body goes with the flow, just by memory, moving all over the stage from side to side to follow choreography, seeking other members to sing and rap along.
This time, they are taking it easier than previous tours, everybody knowing that they are not as young as before. If they want to survive all the way around the world with the same energy, they need to lower the energy spam a notch.
They take more time off and a bit more speech to let them take some breaths before continuing.
They walk on stage in line, and they sing, “I’m lost, can I come over?” and Yoongi’s heart is beating, proud, of his love song.
“I’m sorry, I know I’m a little late,” he sings to the audience, their response lost to him in the muffled quiet of his in-ears. He will not hear it until later, and yet it will fill his chest with a sudden, overwhelming gratitude for ARMY and their endless support.
But right now, at this stage, he already feels content and reassured that everything is going to be ok.
He can do it. He is happy. And he is showing it to ARMY as Jimin asked him to do.
~~~
End
~~~