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Yoongi knew the signs of a hangover when he felt them.
The pounding headache. The way the sunshine burned his eyes, even though they were closed. How dry his mouth was. The total exhaustion that had taken over his body, even though he was still in bed and hadn't decided if he wanted to wake up yet.
Ultimately, it was his thirst that woke him up. His mouth had turned into a desert sometime overnight, and he couldn't take it anymore. He opened his eyes, only to find the sun shining directly into them, the bastard.
Yoongi let out a pained noise and rolled over, which was when he felt the piece of paper crumple into his skin. Which was how he realized that he wasn't wearing a shirt. Which was when he opened his eyes again, this time actually awake.
The piece of paper was from his desk, ripped from his journal if the ripped edges were any indication of that.
Sorry, hyung, I had to wake up to go to work. It's gonna suck, but last night was so worth it. -Jimin P.S. My alarm woke up and you slept right through it. Lucky.
Yoongi read the note again, and then one more time. Then again. He read the note a few more times, and decided that he was either too hungover or too stupid to understand what was going on. Or what that even meant.
Jimin had been here, in his bed? When Yoongi wasn't wearing a shirt?
In his panic, Yoongi sat up and found himself wearing the same black jeans that he knew he had gone out in last night. That, was at least, a relief.
He tried to think about what happened last night. Most of the memories were just straight up gone. But he remembered laughing, remembered Jimin close up against his side, and Jimin’s smile as they looked at each other over Taehyung and Seokjin’s toilet. And that was all.
He reached around looking for his phone, only when he checked it he found it was dead. Which probably explained the note that Jimin had left him, even if it didn't explain the contents of the note itself.
Which, okay. Fine. Sure. Yoongi could handle his phone being dead even when he was really, really confused. Hopefully this meant that he hadn't posted any embarrassing Snapchats, or something.
Yoongi finally got up and got himself his water once his phone was charging. When he came back he found that he had at least twenty-four snaps--twenty-four! even when he had been with his closest friends for the majority of the night--and one text from Hoseok and one text from Jimin.
hyung, did you get my note? Jimin's message read. Yoongi decided that he couldn't handle this, and moved onto Hoseok's text.
saw you and jimin leave last night. congrats! Hoseok's read, with a bunch of emojis everywhere.
Oh, God. What did this even mean?
What did any of this mean? Did Yoongi even really want to know?
Hungover as shit, Yoongi wrote back to Hoseok. wanna get breakfast?
He replied to Jimin in the affirmative, and received nothing in return. Probably because Jimin was still at work. That was fine.
it’s noon Hoseok text back.
Fine. Lunch then. I’m hungry.
meet you at the usual place Hoseok said, so Yoongi forced himself to get dressed to meet him.
The worst part was the walk to the place they usually spent when they were recovering. The food was good, and more importantly cheap, and it was a bit out of the way so that they could rest.
This was especially good for today. Yoongi’s entire body ached. His limbs felt as if they were being weighed down with lead. His bones ached as if he had suffered through a thousand winters. He was only twenty-three, he shouldn’t feel like this. And yet he did. He was a million years old, and his body only showed proof of that after he’d been out drinking for the night.
Hoseok laughed when he saw Yoongi. “You look like a wreck,” Hoseok told him. He’d already ordered water for both of them, because he was an actual, real life angel.
Yoongi drank his entire glass of water before he spoke. “Why don’t you look more messed up?” Yoongi asked suspiciously. “We were all drunk.”
“We were not all drunk, for the record me and Taehyung were fine. And also, I was the DD, remember? I didn’t drink at all.”
“I hate you,” Yoongi groaned, and put his head on the table, where it stayed until the waitress came by to take their order. When she did, Yoongi asked for the greasiest, cheesiest, most disgusting thing on the menu.
He’d never order it otherwise, but today was a special day. Today he had a hangover, and so he was going to fill himself up with bread and grease until the hangover stopped making him feel like some kind of fucked up vampire that loathed the sun and was so thirsty all the time.
“If you hated me I wouldn’t be here right now,” Hoseok said. “Though, maybe I would. Watching you suffer is fun.”
“Haha,” Yoongi said flatly.
His phone buzzed. Yoongi looked at the screen, only to see that it was Jimin texting him again.
Can I come over later? it said.
That was weird. Jimin didn’t usually ask to come over, ever. Still, it’s not like Yoongi would ever say no to spending time with Jimin, especially alone, even if he was guaranteed to make a fool of himself.
Sure Yoongi sent back, and got a bunch of thumbs up and winking emojis for his trouble.
“Speaking of suffering,” Yoongi said, “Jimin is coming over later.”
“Yeah, I can tell you’re suffering by the grin on your face,” Hoseok told him, peering over at him carefully. “So. How was it?”
“How was what?”
“You know what! You and Jimin going home together! Come on, hyung, give me the details.”
“Is that what your text was about? Me and Jimin actually...went home together? As in he...came over to my place and slept there?”
Hoseok was looking at him as if he’d grown a third head. Maybe even a fourth head. “Yeah...” Hoseok said finally.
“Is that what your text was about?”
“Yes. I was happy for you guys. You finally did it.”
“Did what?”
At this, Hoseok’s eyebrows were almost past his hairline.
“Hyung, do you not remember last night?”
“Not one thing.”
Hoseok groaned into his hands.
“Oh, God. Do you think Jimin remembers anything?”
“I guess so. I don’t know.” Yoongi looked at his phone again, where Jimin’s chat was still open.
He and Jimin were friends, of course they were friends, but sometimes Yoongi felt as though there was some kind of barrier between them that was too tall or wide for either of them to ever cross.
He knew it was his fault, of course. Jimin was perfectly lovely, and perfectly friendly, and funny, and talented, and sweet, and caring. Anyone would be lucky to be his friend. Anyone. Yoongi was glad that they were friends.
It was Yoongi’s stupid heart, the huge part of him that had somehow been in love with Jimin since they day that they met, that was why Yoongi kept his distance.
And apparently after one night of drinking, all that had come crumbling down. Or at least, something had happened, and Yoongi wasn’t sure what.
“I think he does,” Yoongi said, and there was some kind of lump in his throat. “Did you see...or hear...anything?”
“I know you two left together. And I know you two were kind of sitting together, giggling with each other. And that you were drinking a lot. And...”
Hoseok trailed off. Yoongi let that sit for only a moment, before bursting out, “And? And what?”
“And I think you guys kissed? Sorry. I couldn’t really see a lot, but I think I saw that.” Hoseok winced, and it’s like he does it with his whole body.
Yoongi could relate, because he felt the words like they’re a strong punch to the gut. He kissed Jimin, he kissed Park Jimin, the guy he’s been stupid in love with for the past two years, and he doesn’t remember.
But of course he didn’t. Because this was just his luck.
“You really don’t remember?” Hoseok asked, once he realized that Yoongi was incapable of speech.
“I’m never drinking again,” Yoongi vowed.
Hoseok snorted. “That would be the day.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Yoongi told him. “This is legitimately bad. I don’t know what Jimin is expecting, if he’s expecting anything. And I don’t know what he remembers, if he even remembers anything.”
“Well, you know, there’s one way to find out.”
Yoongi groaned. “Don’t tell me-”
“Communication! You should just ask him, hyung.”
“Not to be dramatic or anything, but I’d rather die.”
Hoseok just gave him a sharp look over his water. “How else do you expect to know otherwise? Give me an annotated list.”
“I’ll figure something out,” Yoongi said finally.
Their waitress came and placed their food down in front of them. For completely not hungover reasons, now Yoongi found himself even more disinterested in the food than before, even if it all looked amazing. He pushed it away.
Park Jimin was literally making him ill.
“Really, I will.”
Hoseok just took a big bite of his burger, and looked at him doubtfully.
Jimin text him around seven that night that he was coming over. Yoongi, who had napped for the remainder of the afternoon once he’d gotten back from lunch and was finally feeling almost human again, felt his stomach swoop at the message.
That was the bad thing about naps. They felt fucking great, but when you woke up exactly zero of your problems were solved.
Yoongi sat around anxiously, waiting for Jimin to knock. When he did, Yoongi jumped up to go open the door.
Jimin looked beautiful when Yoongi opened the door, which wasn’t much of a surprise. Yoongi thought Jimin almost always looked beautiful. What was shocking was the lunch in his hand.
It wasn’t that Jimin had never brought him food before--both of them were chronic overworkers, and brought each other food all the time when they were both busy and needed breaks--but this felt different. This wasn’t a hyung, you needed to eat or else! kind of a thing.
This was something else entirely. Something Yoongi was afraid to even hope for.
“I brought pad thai,” Jimin said, when he caught Yoongi looking at the bags. “Sorry I didn’t ask, but I thought it would be nice to surprise you.”
“No, that’s great, thanks,” Yoongi whispered. Jimin just smiled at him, and made a home for himself on a chair at the other end of Yoongi’s table.
“So, how was your day?”
“God,” Yoongi grunted. “My hangover was so big I think it’s now the eighth continent.”
Jimin made a face. “That sucks for you.”
“Let me guess, you didn’t get a hangover at all?”
Jimin’s grin answered that question. “Nope! What can I say, I’m blessed.”
“When you’re old, all of this no hangover stuff is going to bite you in the ass and your hangovers are going to be twice as bad.”
“Well, you would know, wouldn’t you?” Jimin asked, taking a huge bite of tofu.
Yoongi hated the part of himself that even found the way Jimin chewed cute. Eating was disgusting, actually. He needed to stop being like this.
“I know that’s not an old joke, Park Jimin.”
“No one called you old. You came to that conclusion yourself. So, are you calling yourself old?”
“Park Jimin...” Yoongi shook his head, but Jimin just laughed at him. He had to cover up his mouth to do it, since he had been mid chew.
Yoongi felt pride like liquid warmth spread over his chest at making Jimin laugh, even when he hadn’t really been trying to. It dissipated quickly, as he looked through the pad thai that Jimin had gotten him, as he was reminded of the conversation he’d had with Hoseok while they were about to eat.
“So what do you remember?” Yoongi asked. His was striving for a nonchalant tone. He got it, he thought. Mostly, anyway.
“Well, not much,” Jimin admitted. “But I do remember one thing. The most important thing.” He smiled at Yoongi again, and this time it was more shy, the edge gone now and the softness was in full force.
Oh God.
What the fuck had Yoongi said? What the fuck had happened? And why the fuck did Jimin remember, but not Yoongi?
The longer they sat in silence, the more Jimin seemed to be expecting something from him. Not sure what to do with that, Yoongi got up and started gathering up their boxes of takeout to go throw them away.
“Do you want to...watch a movie?” Yoongi threw out there, unable to handle the quiet or Jimin’s silent expectation.
Jimin smiled at that. Apparently, whatever he had been waiting for, this had been enough for him. “Only if I get to pick.”
“If you pick one of your weird fetish films again-”
“Fifty Shades of Grey is not a fetish film-”
“It’s a movie about BDSM, what is that, if not a fetish-”
“BDSM isn’t a fetish, it’s a lifestyle and a series of rules-”
“Enough about your kinks, please,” Yoongi told him. “Just pick a movie, a normal movie.”
“Well now we are definitely watching Howl’s Moving Castle.”
“Wow, something normal and good. Thank you.”
Yoongi lingered in the kitchen longer than was strictly necessary, just because he knew that he needed to psych himself up. He took a deep breath before going to go meet Jimin on the couch.
He sat carefully on the cushion next to Jimin’s, directly in the middle so that they were in no way touching. This did not last for long.
Jimin suddenly took it upon himself to drape his body all over Yoongi’s.
Jimin did this with other people--Taehyung, his best friend, especially--but not so much with him. That’s not to say Jimin had never fallen all over Yoongi when he laughed, or when he was feeling tired or upset, because he had. It’s just, it didn’t happen very often, and certainly not like this, with absolutely no reason. Certainly not because it felt like Jimin just wanted to touch him.
Yoongi couldn’t help the way that he stiffened up in surprise, just for a second.
Jimin looked over at him, but he seemed content with what he found, because he just settled down instead of doing anything to change his position all over Yoongi’s lap.
Yoongi felt himself relax into it, gradually. He lifted one of his hands into Jimin’s hair, just because he wanted to see if it was as soft and silky as it looked. It was.
Jimin tilted his head into Yoongi’s hand.
“Mhmm, hyung,” Jimin said, towards the end of the movie. His voice was soft, almost as if he was on the cusp of sleep.
“Hmm?”
“This is nice, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Yoongi answered, wishing that his words didn’t have the lingering taste of a lie. “This is nice.”
Every week, on Mondays, Jimin and Yoongi studied together. There were private study rooms in the library open for students, and they shared one because it was always easier to have help finding an empty office since they got used up so quickly.
It was the one thing they did that was just the two of them, and it would have been important to Yoongi for that reason alone.
But the other thing was, it reinforced how alike they both were. About how serious they were about their studies.
Granted, it’s not like they helped each other very much. They were studying very different subjects--Yoongi, with architecture, and Jimin with biology--but just being around each other in their shared library room helped.
Jimin was usually glad to see him, but this week it was something else.
This week, Jimin came to sit in the empty chair of Yoongi’s side of the table.
“This week sucks,” Jimin huffed, all drama.
Yoongi got the sense that Jimin expected a response to this, so he said, “Oh? How come?”
“I have an exam on Thursday, and I need to cover someone’s shift on Thursday so I’m going to be really busy on Wednesday and Thursday. I don’t think we’re going to be able to hang out.”
“It’s okay, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi told him, because he really did look genuinely put out. At the affectionate honorific, Jimin calmed down a little. “You have to work hard on your studies.”
“I know,” Jimin agreed, his lips pursed just a little in a slight pout. “I just.”
“You just, what?”
“I was just hoping to make up for lost time, but I can’t fail this exam.”
“I know,” Yoongi said. He had a feeling that he was losing his grip of the situation. It wasn’t rare for him to take care of any of his dongsaengs, but the way that Jimin had started looking at him was different now. Every trace of the pout was gone off his face now.
“I understand,” he added, though he didn’t really understand anything.
“So what if we made the most of tomorrow?” Jimin asked. “You only have two classes tomorrow, right?” He scooted his chair closer to Yoongi’s. Their textbooks were touching now. Yoongi’s brain short circuited.
“Yeah,” Yoongi agreed slowly.
“Do you have to work?”
“Not until Wednesday.”
“That’s perfect then.” Jimin smiled, and Yoongi’s heart did that thing where it squeezed in his chest. “It’s a date.”
Yoongi and Jimin agreed to meet up at lunch the next day.
“Let me take care of everything,” Jimin had said once they had finished studying, and so Yoongi had done just that. He had no idea what was on the agenda today, but he imagined that it wasn’t much.
Yoongi stood at their agreed meeting place, looking for Jimin and not seeing him. Of course, it was very, very like Jimin to be late, but still. Yoongi had hoped that maybe this time he wouldn’t be.
Yoongi was about to give up and text Jimin again when Jimin tapped him on the shoulder and said, “Hey, hyung!”
“Hey,” Yoongi said, sounding kind of stiff.
That feeling only got worse when Jimin reached over to thread their fingers together.
Yoongi’s first thought was to panic, and he completely froze. He almost pulled his hand away out of sheer surprise, but he managed to force himself back into something calmer, even while his heart pounded.
Jimin, wanting to hold his hand? How was this real? But somehow it was.
Jimin must have noticed his freak out, as much as he tried to internalize it, because he asked, “Are you...okay?” with a serious look on his face.
“Oh, I’m fine,” Yoongi said, voice sounded just the tiniest bit garbled.
Jimin loosened his grip at that, but before he could totally let go, Yoongi held onto his hand tighter. Now that Jimin was actively holding his hand, Yoongi didn’t want to stop.
Yoongi loved holding hands.
“So, what are the plans for today?” Yoongi asked.
They were simple, really. A walk around the park, going to eat at a nearby cafe. Jimin even had movie tickets for them to go see some release that Yoongi didn’t know anything about.
And in the end, it didn’t really matter what Yoongi and Jimin did.
The best part of the day, no matter what else might have happened, was going to be how Yoongi and Jimin held hands.
During the two days that they weren’t able to see each other, Jimin text him. A lot. Once every few hours, at minimum. Sometimes it was just a complaint, but sometimes they had full on conversations that lasted a few hours before Jimin acknowledged that he had to go to work again.
“Okay,” Hoseok said finally, waving his hand in front of Yoongi’s face, “What’s going on with you? Why do you keep smiling at your phone? It’s creeping me out.”
“Just talking to Jimin-ah.”
“Oh!” At this, Hoseok sat straight up. “So does this mean that you finally talked to him about what happened last weekend?”
Yoongi fiddled with his straw.
“No,” he finally admitted.
“Hyung, are you kidding me?”
“I just,” Yoongi took a deep breath. “I mean, I’m not stupid. I think I know what happened, but I don’t want to ask because, what if...”
“What if what?”
“What if it changes Jimin’s mind? Or what if I’m reading too much into it and it’s not a relationship and it’s just...something else?”
Yoongi couldn’t get it out of his mind that he had woken up with his shirt off. Yoongi couldn’t get a lot of things out of his mind lately, like the way Jimin’s hand felt in his and the weight of Jimin’s body when he leaned over him, but that was at the very forefront.
“Hyung,” Hoseok said, and he looked kind of sad now. “You have to talk to him. You just do.”
“I know,” Yoongi admitted. He took a deep breath. “I know.”
Jimin text Yoongi to meet him on Thursday afternoon, so Yoongi dutifully made his way across campus to the science building.
He was done with all of his classes anyway, and had no plans.
“Oh, you came!” Jimin said, when he saw Yoongi waiting for him.
“I told you I would.” He couldn’t help the sharp inhale that he took when Jimin twined their fingers together. He tried to pass it off, but he could tell from the way that Jimin dropped his hand that he knew something was up.
“Well, anyway. Do you want to come over?”
“I kind of swore off alcohol...” Yoongi admitted. “For a while, at least,” he added when he saw Jimin’s doubtful look.
“Well, that’s fine. I didn’t want to drink anyway.”
There was something about the way that Jimin said it that made all of the spit in his mouth get lodged in his throat. And he was sure that Jimin knew that, from the way that Jimin laughed.
“Don’t laugh at me,” Yoongi said.
“But, hyung, you’re so funny. Funny looking!”
“Oh, that’s nice, did you steal that from a third grader?”
“No, Taehyung, actually. Which makes sense, because he probably stole that from a third grader at the school he’s student teaching at.”
They talked the entire way to Jimin’s apartment building, which made the walk feel like it was nothing, even when they weren’t holding hands.
So this is what friendship with Jimin could be like, Yoongi let himself think, if we weren’t so goddamn awkward all the time.
He liked it. He liked it a lot. Almost enough to forget whatever had been happening between them all week.
“Taehyung, are you home?” Jimin called. There was nothing but silence in response, which made Jimin smile.
“We’re all alone, Yoongi hyung,” Jimin said finally. He wiggled his eyebrows.
“Did you really just-”
“Yes,” Jimin laughed. “I really just. Do you want to get food?”
“Sure, you pick.”
“You’re so kind to me,” Jimin said, and went to get one of the take out menus from the drawers. Yooni decided that whatever Jimin picked, he would pay for it, no matter what.
Yoongi watched as Jimin called, and then came to join him on the couch. It wasn’t a very comfortable couch--there were lumps everywhere, and it smelled interesting in places that a couch shouldn’t smell interesting.
This was why Jimin had to sit so close to him, Yoongi told himself. This was why their thighs had to be touching.
This was why Jimin leaned over, and kissed Yoongi straight on the mouth.
Yoongi let it go on for longer than he probably should have. This was something that he had dreamed about for a long time--the way Jimin’s lips felt on his, the softness of his eyes before leaned in, the weight of his hands on Yoongi’s thighs.
Yoongi let himself have it for one beautiful, exquisite second.
And then he pushed Jimin away.
“Okay,” Yoongi said, and finally tore himself away from Jimin. He couldn’t take this anymore. He couldn’t take the not knowing, and he couldn’t take the fact that everything that had happened between them this week--everything that had seemed like it had been something out of one of Yoongi’s most secret, precious dreams--had been a lie. “I can’t do this anymore.”
For the barest second Jimin looked hurt. For just a moment Yoongi could see that he really, genuinely hurt Jimin, and he wanted to tear himself apart. And then it was like he had imagined it, because Jimin’s entire face went blank.
For a moment they just looked at each other. Yoongi felt cold in a way that he hadn’t before, now that Jimin wasn’t touching him, but he knew that he had done the right thing. It wasn’t fair to Jimin, or himself, to let things go on the way they had.
“I’m sorry,” Jimin said finally, and the emotion was bleeding back into his tone and on his face. Yoongi was relieved to see that--there was nothing worse than seeing careful blankness on Jimin’s face when he was obviously upset. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. If you don’t like it, we don’t have to hug, or kiss, or touch. If it really upsets you so much,” Jimin’s face was open now, and raw, like he lost all control the more that he talked. “Please,” Jimin said finally, like he was hanging everything onto that word. “Please don’t break up with me over this.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Yoongi said, hating himself a little bit. Especially when he saw the way Jimin was reacting now, with disbelief.
A flash of anger crossed Jimin’s eyes. “Don’t be like this, Yoongi hyung,” Jimin said. “If you don’t want to date me, fine, if this entire week has been horrible for you and you were just drunk, fine, but you don’t get to be mean about it. Don’t be shitty to me just because you were wrong.”
“You have the wrong idea,” Yoongi said, when Jimin was done. “Idon’trememberwhathappenedlastweekend.”
“What?” The annoyance on Jimin’s face was now mixed with confusion.
“What happened last weekend when we got drunk?” Yoongi finally had the courage to ask. “Because I don’t remember, at all, and you’ve been hugging me and kissing me and holding my hand, and I love it, but I don’t understand what’s going on or where any of this is coming from.”
“Do you really not remember anything?” Jimin asked, even though Yoongi had just told him that he couldn’t. “Did you, God. And you just went along with everything that I did, and let me look like an idiot-”
“Jimin, no. Please.” Yoongi reached out to touch Jimin, only this time he was the one that was rebuffed. Jimin moved his leg away quickly, so that no part of them was touching. “That’s not. I mean. Can you just please tell me what I said?”
“Why does it matter, if you don’t remember it obviously wasn’t very important to you.”
“I was really, really drunk,” Yoongi said, and now his own temper was sparking with Jimin’s, even if he knew that he was the one that was mostly in the wrong. And I’m going to tell you something, after this. Something that will, hopefully, change everything. But, please, please just tell me what I said.”
“We were both really drunk,” Jimin said finally, carefully. Every word seemed to be heavy with something, and Jimin watched Yoongi’s face. “I mean, we all were really, but we were especially. You had come and sought me out, the way you usually do when you’re drunk, and. I don’t remember much else about that night, but I remember that you told me that you loved me. That you were in love with me, and that you wanted to date me. So that’s what I thought was happening this entire week, even though you kept pulling away from me like you regret it.”
Jimin laughed, and it was a broken sound. “God, I was an idiot. You were just drunk, and just wanted to make out. That was it, wasn’t it. Wasn’t it?” he pressed, when Yoongi didn’t say anything.
“No,” Yoongi said finally. His voice was quiet, but he forced himself to push out the words. This was that important to him. Jimin was that important to him. “That wasn’t it. Everything I said that night was true. I’m in love with you, Park Jimin, and I have been for two whole years. Enough to make myself sick with it. I just...I didn’t know what I said, and I didn’t know what I told you. So I pushed you away, because I didn’t want to get used to you touching me, and learning that it didn’t mean anything.”
“Hyung?”
“Yeah?”
Jimin waited until Yoongi was looking at him before he said, “You’re so stupid.”
He launched himself into Yoongi’s arms, causing Yoongi to fall into the cushions.
“Hey, don’t call your hyung stupid,” Yoongi told him.
Jimin just ignored him, and kissed him again.
They were forced to stop kissing when the food came, and Yoongi had to get up to pay the delivery guy.
“So...” Jimin began.
“So.”
“Hyung! Don’t make me say it.”
“How did I ask you to be my boyfriend when I was drunk?”
“Ask me now, when you’re sober and you realize what’s happening, and I’ll tell you which one is better.”
“Fine. Park Jimin, will you be my fucking boyfriend, because I really fucking like you a lot, fucking love you even, and I’d like that a lot.”
“That was definitely better,” Jimin said. “I think the profanity really made it special.”
“Hmm, thought so,” Yoongi said, and leaned in to kiss Jimin instead.
The food ended up getting cold. Neither of them minded much, after the fact.