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when jimin opens the door, the apartment is still. he had left in the middle of the day, when the winter sun was still casting a mellow glow throughout the house, and he had forgotten to switch on one of the lamps in the living room before he left.
the quiet hum of the fridge is all that greets him when he steps in, and vaguely, jimin realises that even the full moon outside is not able to shed any light inside the small apartment. it’s like the gloom that he’s carrying around within him has seeped into every corner of his life, chasing away anything that attempts to offer some reprieve.
his body is heavy, tired from hours of rehearsals and the weight of years of expectations and dreams. the twinge in his neck is back, and he can’t seem to shake it. he lets his bag fall to the ground by the door. he’ll sort through it in the morning, too exhausted now to sift through all his papers and dirty clothes and the new shoes he had bought just for this audition.
he moves through the apartment, bare feet padding softly against the wooden floors. he’s used to the layout, so he doesn’t bother to turn on the lights.
when he reaches the bathroom, he rifles through the cabinet for some bandaids. the only ones he can find are the little tweety bird decorated ones that he had been adamant not to use, for fear of being teased. still, the blisters on his feet need to be tended to if he wants to get back into the studio within the next week, so he sucks in a breath, dabs antiseptic against the little wounds and bites his lip at the sting. it’s quick and methodic, his hands used to treating his feet, but somehow, the tears still fill his eyes every time. he grits his teeth, wrapping up the wounds with the bandaids until his feet are cartoon-covered, and then he’s washing his hands, slipping into an oversized shirt, and falling into bed.
–
when he blinks awake, it’s to the low glow of the lamp on his nightstand and the weight of another body sitting down beside him.
“jiminie? you haven’t eaten all day, have you, baby.” yoongi’s words are said more like a statement than a question, the low hum of them resonating inside jimin’s racing mind.
he shakes his head mutely, curling closer towards yoongi’s warmth beside him.
“do you want to come eat? i made kimchi jjigae , darling,” yoongi coaxes, his hand coming up to gently brush through jimin’s hair.
jimin shakes his head softly again, “‘m not hungry.”
he hears yoongi sigh softly, and he holds his breath, waiting for the reprimand.
“baby-” he squeezes his eyes shut, not willing to see the way yoongi’s face must have clouded over. “baby, look at me?” yoongi’s voice is soft, and just a little bit sad, and jimin hates the way he knows it’s because of him.
jimin feels yoongi’s hand still in his hair at his lack of response, and he knows the elder is frustrated. “baby…you can’t-”
jimin opens his eyes, meeting yoongi’s furrowed gaze, before he reaches up to remove the elder’s hand from his head. he gives him a weak smile, placing a gentle peck on his palm. “can we talk later, hyung?” he moves back from yoongi, something cold and heavy settling into his stomach as he sees the way the elder’s eyes flicker at the movement. still, he can’t help the way he curls back into himself, pulling the blanket up closer around him, “‘m tired, hyung. i just wanna sleep.”
he sees the way yoongi opens his mouth to protest, until something seems to stop him, and he bites his lip, his expression turning blank. “okay, jiminie. sleep well.”
the elder sighs, his entire body seeming to sag with the weight of the unspoken words between them, before he’s moving off the bed, switching off the lamp on the nightstand and leaving the room. the door clicks shut behind him, and jimin can’t help the tear that falls down his cheek. he’s alone again in the dark.
—
jimin wakes the next day to the feeling of yoongi pressing gentle kisses to his nape. “hey baby, how are you feeling today?”
jimin groans and shifts, so that he’s lying on his back, jostling yoongi off of him. he keeps his eyes squeezed close, not yet ready to brave the morning light. the elder shuffles so that he’s resting on an elbow, face hovering above jimin’s.
“minnie, minnie,” the elder chants, tone playful. it’s clear that he’s trying to put the strain of the night before behind them. jimin almost feels guilty for the way his stomach turns. “how,” a kiss to his shoulder, “are,” another kiss to his jaw, “you,” a gentle press to his cheek, “feeling?” a final kiss to the tip of his nose.
jimin blinks his eyes open as he feels the elder’s breath against his face. “hyung…”
it’s clear by his tone that he’s not feeling the joviality of the morning in the way yoongi had hoped he would. yoongi draws back, a little furrow settling into his brow. “talk to me, jimin-ah?”
jimin sighs, as he shakes his head slightly. “it’s nothing, hyung. i’m just tired.”
it’s obvious he’s lying, but it’s also obvious he’s not ready to speak, so yoongi, sweet yoongi, doesn’t push. he sits himself up on his knees, running a gentle hand across jimin’s forehead, pushing his hair back from his head. jimin frowns as he feels his hair sticking up, and yoongi lets out a little giggle at the sight, “okay, baby. talk to me when you’re ready. but you have to eat today.”
and jimin knows he’s worried his hyung enough, so he reaches up, catches yoongi’s troublesome fingers in his, and stops the motion. yoongi lets out a little huff at the action, as if jimin had been stopping him from doing something he had every right to do , and jimin can’t help the way the sound makes his lips quirk up in amusement.
“you’re silly.”
“ you’re silly,” yoongi retorts, ever mature, and jimin giggles, the sound filling the room and cutting through whatever tension they had woken up to.
he brings yoongi’s knuckles to his lips and places gentle kisses to his knuckles, “c’mon hyung, what are you making me for breakfast today?”
yoongi stretches out a finger to lightly flick at his lip, and jimin pouts at the sting. “hey!”
yoongi grins, and his gums peek out in the way they do when he’s feeling extra smiley. “you’re spoiled.”
“because of you, hyung,” jimin huffs, even as he lets yoongi run a gentle finger over his full lip, soothing where, jimin will admit, his finger flick made minimal damage. “you need to take responsibility for your actions.”
yoongi laughs then, shaking his head, and for a moment jimin forgets how his body had been weighed down for weeks, and simply indulges in the sound of his favourite person in the whole world. it’s with one last little snort that yoongi pulls his fingers out of jimin’s slackened grasp, sitting back onto his heels.
“okay, baby, i’m taking responsibility for spoiling you so bad you forget your manners,” yoongi chuckles, tapping his forefinger against jimin’s nose.
jimin scrunches his nose on instinct, but makes no move to retaliate this time. instead, he just leans forward, until his arms are wrapped around yoongi’s waist and his chin is smushed against yoongi’s chest. “it’s ’cause i’m cute, isn’t it, hyung? that’s why you like to spoil me.”
jimin feels the way yoongi shakes with quiet chuckles against him. “mhmm, sure, baby,” he indulges, leaning down to press a soft kiss against jimin’s forehead. “count yourself lucky you’re cute. i don’t make bokkeumbap for just anyone you know.”
jimin lets himself smile, as he snuggles deeper into yoongi’s embrace. maybe today will be okay after all.
—
it’s when they’re cuddled up on the couch later that yoongi tries again. jimin had sagged down into the many cushions that line the back of their couch, letting his body curl up against yoongi’s slouched form as he watched a basketball game. absentmindedly, yoongi had started stroking jimin’s ankle, and jimin had tensed at the contact.
“baby? what’s wrong?” yoongi had immediately sensed the way his body had stiffened against his, and his attention quickly snapped from the tv screen to his boyfriend.
jimin shook his head, “nothing, nothing - it’s - no, it’s nothing,” he denied, even as he shifted his foot away. it was a small action, but it had been enough for yoongi to immediately catch on.
with a single huff, yoongi shifts until he’s sitting upright against the back of the couch. his arm loops under jimin, and suddenly jimin is being hoisted up onto his lap. “hyung!”
“no. no, baby,” yoongi frowns, securing his arms around jimin’s waist as he attempts to wriggle out of his grasp. “what is wrong with your ankle? is this why you were so upset last night?”
jimin’s hands tug at yoongi’s arms, but he forgets how strong the older can be when he really makes use of his strength. “it’s nothing, hyung. it’s fine. i’m fine.”
yoongi’s voice darkens as jimin continues to deny his concerns. “jiminie, you’re clearly not fine. you fucking flinched when i touched your ankle! what did you do? did something happen at the audition yesterday?”
it’s the mention of the audition that gets jimin bristling. suddenly, jimin’s turning, his elbows knocking against the elder’s arms and yoongi’s grip slipping off in surprise at the harsh movement, as he forces himself off of the elder’s lap. “i said it’s nothing, yoongi! my ankle is fine, i’m fine, yesterday was fine. ”
yoongi gapes at him for a moment, before his eyes narrow. yoongi doesn’t get mad, not really, but he hates when he’s made to feel as if he doesn’t understand something - especially when that something is jimin’s emotions.
“well, obviously not, if you’re snapping at me for asking a fucking question,” he scoffs, his arms coming up to cross against his chest. it’s less hostility and more defensiveness when he does this - as if afraid to let jimin know how much his words have hurt him.
jimin sags, and he sits himself gingerly down on the coffee table in front of yoongi. his hyung has turned his eyes away now, lips jutting out in a pout, and it’s clear he’s trying to hold back frustrated tears. he reaches out a hand, curling his fingers against yoongi’s knee. “hyung…i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to yell.”
yoongi doesn’t say anything, but the way his breath hitches is all jimin needs to know how upset he is. he lets out a little sigh, hating himself for how selfish he can be sometimes. he shifts off the coffee table, drawing closer to yoongi. “hyung, please. i promise i’m fine.”
yoongi is easy, has always been easy for jimin (perhaps a little too easy, jimin thinks sometimes), so when jimin reaches out a hand to unravel his arms, he lets them go easily. jimin shifts forward so that he’s kneeling in front of yoongi, and lets his elbows rest on yoongi’s thighs as he holds the elder’s hands between his own. “it was just a little stumble, hyung. i’m okay, it doesn’t hurt. it’s just a little tender, is all. i promise.”
yoongi turns to him, his brows knitted and his face still stern with concern. “jimin-ah, if it’s sore, you have to rest and let me know so i can rub ointment into it. it’s not going to get better if you leave it.”
and the fact that yoongi accepts his words with nothing more than a gentle scolding reminder of how he can help take care of jimin makes jimin want to curl into his chest and stay there forever. jimin knows that the elder would do anything to make sure he’s okay, and while he knows it’s perhaps a little unfair, he also relishes in the feeling of being so loved by his hyung.
“i know, hyung,” he murmurs, placing a kiss onto their joint hands. “i know. i’m sorry. i should’ve told you. i know you just want to take care of me.”
yoongi nods, seemingly pacified. he ducks his head, looking almost shy, as he mumbles his agreement, “just want to make sure you’re okay, minnie. i don’t like when you’re hurting.”
jimin’s heart swoons, “i don’t like when you’re hurting either, hyung.” he lets them stay in that position, thumbs mindlessly running across yoongi’s hands, and occasionally dropping soft little pecks against the elder’s clothed knee.
finally, yoongi shifts and brings him up with him. his eyes are wide and pleading when he looks at jimin, “let hyung get the ointment for your ankle, baby? i promise it’ll feel better after.”
and in the face of such earnestness, jimin can do nothing else but nod and wonder again, how many countries he must have saved in his past life, to deserve someone like yoongi in this one.
—
the thing about jimin’s bad days is that they tend to be caused by his job. or lack thereof. and so, because he can’t just not work , or at least, look for work, he has found that recently, the bad days are more frequent than the good days.
the weight of his own failures is heavy on his shoulders, and he returns home from the studio exhausted every single night, snappish and drained from working his body too hard. it’s always yoongi who makes him feel better, coaxing him to eat a warm meal with promises of cuddles in bed after a long day.
jimin knows the elder is doing everything he can to distract him from the fact that he just doesn’t seem to be good enough for any of these companies, so even though he continues to stew in his own self-doubt and insecurities, he tries his best not to let it show, brushing off yoongi’s concern with tired eyes and soft shake of his head.
still, when he gets home, only two weeks after yoongi had rubbed ointment onto his ankle for three days straight, dropping sweet kisses onto his calves and knees and thighs in the process every time, and his ankle is throbbing again, it’s not so much tiredness but frustration and guilt that makes him lash out.
yoongi’s eyes are sharp when they cut to him walking through the door, weight shifted to his right side. he immediately drops the bowl he had been holding, rushing over from the kitchen to loop an arm around jimin’s waist.
“here, let hyung help, mimi.”
yoongi takes his bag from his other arm, and quickly hangs it on the rack by the door, helping him hobble over to the couch, where he immediately sags back against the cushions. yoongi runs a worried hand over his leg, bending down to press against the tenderness. jimin hisses at the feeling, eyes squeezing shut in discomfort. “don’t.”
yoongi stills, his eyes concerned as he looks up at jimin from where he’s knelt on the ground. “baby, what happened?”
“just overworked it, probably,” he mutters, not liking the way yoongi’s lips pinch in disapproval. he tries to jerk his foot away from yoongi’s grasp, but he’s holding it tight, fingers already pressing down into the swollen joint and massaging gently.
“darling, you can’t keep doing this. you’re going to seriously hurt yourself one day,” yoongi murmurs, his hands already moving to prop jimin’s ankle up against the coffee table. he’s going to go find the ointment and make jimin sit there until it’s rubbed in and iced and the swelling has gone down, and there’s no more trace of injury on jimin’s body.
something swells in jimin, bitter and resentful. “who cares? not like it’ll matter to anyone anyway.”
yoongi’s head snaps up at his words, “hey! what are you saying right now? who wouldn’t it matter to?”
jimin huffs, but doesn’t reply. he knows that it was silly to speak so brashly, especially when the elder was already so worried about him, but he can’t help but think that his words hold true. no one would care, because it wasn’t like he was doing anything with his dancing anyway.
“jimin-ah, what’s going on?” yoongi is standing in front of him now, eyes imploring and wide with concern. his lips are jutting out in a pout, and it’s obvious he won’t let this go easily. “tell hyung what happened, baby. hyung will make it better.”
jimin doesn’t know why he’s so on edge, but maybe it has something to do with the fact that he just can’t seem to do anything right, and the fact that he keeps making yoongi look so sad and worried, and the fact that his stupid fucking ankle just won’t stop aching .
“nothing happened, hyung,” he says, voice clipped. “‘m just saying.”
yoongi’s brow furrows, “jiminie, you just said that it wouldn’t matter if you got hurt. something must have happened -”
“it’s nothing, yoongi,” he snaps, and pushes himself up.
yoongi lets him, but something fierce and unimpressed has settled into his features. “we are not doing this again, jiminie,” he huffs, reaching out a single steadying hand when jimin stumbles from his own weight. “it is not nothing , and if you would just let me rub some ointment on it -”
“i don’t need you to rub it, yoongi!”
he sees the way yoongi takes a steadying breath, as if bracing himself for another long and tedious conversation, and it makes him feel even angrier. it’s not fair that yoongi looks so exasperated when he had been the one to keep pushing. “i told you, it’s nothing. i just need to fucking sleep.”
he shakes yoongi’s hand off his waist, gritting his teeth as his weight falls onto his sore ankle. he ignores yoongi’s sharp intake of breath when he sees jimin hobbling, and tries not to think too hard about the tears that have sprung into his eyes - whether from the pain, or from the guilt of hurting yoongi again , he can’t let himself cry in front of the elder and make him feel even worse . yoongi doesn’t try to stop him this time, only mumbles out a quiet “i’ll get you some ice,” before he disappears back into the kitchen.
jimin doesn’t even change out of his clothes before he’s collapsing down on top of their covers, closing his eyes, and letting himself drift off to sleep.
when jimin wakes up, it’s because of the smell of tonkatsu drifting in from the kitchen. his stomach rumbles as he remembers that he hasn’t eaten since the muesli bar yoongi had shoved into his hand as he was running out of the house in the morning, and he begins to imagine the crunch of the fried pork cutlet beneath his teeth.
it’s not a moment later that yoongi is at the door, goofy ‘kiss the chef!’ apron tied around his torso, “hey baby, dinner’s ready.”
it’s the hesitant expression on his face that suddenly makes jimin’s appetite disappear. “‘m not hungry,” he mumbles, pressing his cheek further into his pillow.
yoongi sighs, and jimin feels like a burden once more. “you’ve been out all day, baby, you need to eat.”
“said ‘m not hungry,” he sounds snappy and cold, and jimin doesn’t know when such venom crept into his tone. he supposes yoongi doesn’t either, because he sees him still, running a hand down his face.
“will you at least let me swap out your ice pack and rub some ointment on your ankle?” it’s only then that jimin realises yoongi must have come in at some point while he had been sleeping and propped up his ankle, because there’s now a watery gel pack on his ankle.
jimin doesn’t respond, and he sees yoongi sag. the lump in jimin’s throat grows bigger, but he can’t speak as he sees yoongi retreat, letting out a tired sigh as he turns away.
“okay, jimin. okay.” jimin can’t remember the last time yoongi had called him by name like that, and there’s a part of him that wants to beg yoongi to hold him close and affectionate and promise not to fall out of love with him. still, there’s the other part of him that feels a little vindicated. as if to say, see? even yoongi can tell he’s not enough. even he can see that there’s nothing more for jimin to give.
it’s that part of him that wins in the end. he doesn’t reply as he turns his body away from yoongi, curling up on his side. yoongi doesn’t say another word as the door clicks shut behind him.
—
when morning comes, jimin can’t find it in himself to get out of bed. there’s a stream of sunlight making its way through a crack in their curtains, and it’s hitting him right where he’s lying, but he feels too tired to get up and tug it shut. instead, he turns onto his side, facing away from the window.
the bed is empty, though the area beside him is still warm, and jimin can’t hear the sounds of yoongi puttering around in the kitchen. he figures his hyung is in the bathroom, getting ready for the day. it’s a sunday, and they usually spend their mornings together, lazy and slow, basking in each other’s warmth. their sunday mornings are ones where they’re reluctant to leave the covers and the comfort of each other’s embrace, and jimin thinks they’re sacred.
he doesn’t know how to feel about the fact that yoongi has already left the bed.
with a sigh, he pulls the duvet closer around him and curls tighter into a ball, squeezing his eyes shut in the hopes of blocking out both the light and the thoughts that won’t stop running through his head.
–
the click of the front door is what wakes him up next. he blinks his eyes, disoriented by the way the light seems to have flooded the room. his body is warm, sleep drowsy but comfortable, and he finally feels like some of the heaviness has dissipated.
vaguely, he realises the curtains have been opened, letting the late afternoon sunrays fill the room. he’s slept the day away. no wonder his body feels better.
but it’s as the sounds of boots being knocked up against the shoe rack, and keys jangling on the hook, and plastic bags rustling against the countertop meets his ears that something in his stomach starts to sink. and suddenly, he’s heavy again.
jimin knows that their sunday mornings are slow. but he also knows that eventually, they’ll find themselves ready to face the world outside their little bubble, and they’ll venture out to the cafe down the street - where they already spend far too much money on coffee, given that they have their very own, perfectly functioning coffee machine at home, and pick up whatever freshly baked pastries they have in store for the day. they’ll take these to the park by their apartment and they’ll let themselves walk around aimlessly for a little while, before they settle down by the swings to talk and act like they did when they were young, going on their little not-dates, whilst steadfastly falling head-over-heels in love. he can’t remember the last time they skipped one of these afternoons.
he swallows, and his throat is dry.
he tries not to think too much as he moves the duvet off of him, even as everything inside him screams for him to pull them back over his body and allow himself to drift off into a mindless sleep again. he rummages through the pile of clothes he’s left on the armchair by the window, and pulls out one of yoongi’s hoodies.
slipping it on, he shuffles out to the bathroom, making a feeble attempt to freshen himself up, even though the day is almost over. really, he should be getting into the shower and washing the grease out of his hair, but the thought of having to go through the entire routine makes him want to collapse back into bed.
instead, he runs a hand through the tangles, and hopes that the little dabs of concealer he places under his eyes will make him look refreshed enough that yoongi doesn’t question his appearance.
when jimin emerges from the bathroom, he follows the sounds of yoongi humming in the kitchen to see the elder preparing dinner. his hyung seems to sense his presence, as he quickly ceases his humming and runs his eyes across jimin’s figure. “hey minnie, are you feeling better?”
he nods, wetting his bottom lip with his tongue as he avoids the elder’s gaze. he feels oddly nervous, and that doesn’t help the sense of unease he feels because he’s never felt nervous around yoongi. not even at the beginning, when they were still getting to know each other and he was harbouring the world’s biggest crush on the guy. he had always felt safe and content around his hyung, and that’s why it had been the easiest thing in the world to fall into step in love with the other.
“i didn’t realise you had left,” he murmurs, coming up to the counter.
the elder turns from where he’s rinsing the vegetables and gives him a smile that looks more like a grimace. jimin can’t help the way he winces, and his eyes drop. “i was going to wake you, but you looked like you needed the sleep.”
his hands fidget with the sleeve of his oversized shirt. he knows he hasn’t been looking his best recently, but he didn’t think the elder had noticed. he tries to speak, but the only thing that leaves his mouth is a weak noise of affirmation.
he hears the sound of yoongi putting the vegetables into the pan, and he bites his lip, knowing that the elder will be too focused on cooking now to try and force conversation with him. he clears his throat, “i -”
“do you want to help hyung, jiminie?” yoongi speaks before he can finish, and his words die on his lips. he looks up and sees the elder stood by the stove, eyes expectant and yet filled with so much tenderness that he has to swallow down the lump that grows in his throat. “get the rice cooking?”
he nods quickly, moving around the counter to grab the pot from the rice cooker. yoongi steps aside as he moves towards the container where they store their rice, shaky hands measuring out the rice with unwarranted urgency, eager to let yoongi get back to cooking.
yoongi returns to his spot, letting jimin slip over to the sink, but not without a gentle squeeze of his nape, “thanks baby.”
jimin doesn’t reply, but he can feel the way his cheeks have heated up with a pink flush.
they work quietly beside each other; jimin carefully measuring the water to the rice with his short fingers, and yoongi adding in aromatics and spices to the dish he’s making, humming occasionally as he dips a finger in for a taste.
“here, jimin-ah, try,” he says, holding out the spatula to jimin, where he had retreated back around the counter after turning the rice cooker on.
jimin ducks his head, blowing against the hot sauce until it seems like it’s cooled down a little, and then lets his tongue flick out to taste yoongi’s cooking. his eyes widen, and he looks up at his hyung, who’s smirking at his reaction. “good, isn’t it?”
jimin nods quickly, his hand coming up to grip at yoongi’s wrist before the elder can move away. he makes quick work of the remaining sauce and pieces of vegetables on the spatula, and his enthusiasm earns him a short snort of laughter from his hyung. “baby, we’re literally having this for dinner. if you give me the spatula back, we’ll be able to eat all of it in fifteen.”
jimin sticks his tongue out at the elder, but lets his fingers loosen, and yoongi shakes his head as a fond chuckle slips from his mouth. “i’ve missed this,” he muses, his voice still tinged yellow with amusement. “missed you. missed being with you,” he smiles, turning to meet jimin’s eyes once more. when he sees the way jimin is looking at him, something in his expression shifts, and his smile turns just a little sad. “missed you like this.”
jimin doesn’t know what to say as he feels his body shrink into itself. he can feel the lump in his throat coming back, and his vision turning hazy. he hates the way he’s made yoongi’s voice turn grey and heavy, where before it was so bright and buoyant.
slowly, he slips off the stool he had been perched on, letting the cold tiles beneath his feet ground him, as he lets out a shaky breath. “i’ll just - i’m just going to go to lie down for a little bit.”
he avoids the elder’s gaze when he hears the soft sigh that follows his words, but lets himself look up when he hears him speak. he’s turned away now, focused on the stovetop, and his voice is quiet and resigned. “okay, jiminie. dinner will be ready in twenty.”
he doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t think the elder expected him to anyway.
–
it’s probably closer to thirty minutes later that yoongi shakes him awake. he had gone to lie down on the couch, the tv playing an animal documentary in the background as he scrolled on his phone, but at some point he must have fallen asleep again.
“hey baby, it’s time for dinner,” yoongi murmurs, his hand on jimin’s shoulder.
jimin blinks blearily, looking up at yoongi’s expectant face. the elder’s expression betrays none of his concern, but jimin can see the way he holds his body with a tension that speaks of his unspoken worry. guilt swirls in his gut, and he swallows thickly. “oh, yeah, must’ve fallen asleep,” he mumbles, trying to hide the tiredness that has seeped into his body once more. he sits up, flashing the older a weak smile. “been tired lately.”
yoongi nods, not questioning his words, though he doesn’t move away. he’s hovering, as if scared that jimin will fall back asleep, or collapse on his feet when he stands. jimin doesn’t know if the elder’s attentiveness makes him feel taken care of, or simply like a burden.
“let’s eat, hyung,” he reaches out a hand to hold the other’s, and yoongi lets himself be pulled along lightly into the kitchen.
he sees the way the elder had set up their little dining table with their matching bowls and mugs, a bottle of soju on the side, and suddenly he feels tears fill his eyes. they both like to drink, but yoongi brings out the soju only when he wants to initiate the conversation. the bottle of soju is an invitation; for jimin to sit and relax, to let him in and share his burdens with him.
“hyung…” he murmurs, turning to the side to look at the elder with his tear-filled eyes. he can’t believe that even after weeks of shutting him out, his hyung is still there, waiting for him.
the older only squeezes his hand, leaning in to place a sweet kiss on his forehead. “eat first, baby. and then we’ll talk.”
dinner is a quiet affair. though jimin hasn’t eaten all day, the knot in his stomach makes it difficult for him to feel hungry. beside him, yoongi picks at his food, but doesn’t forget to place jimin’s favourite parts of the dish into his bowl, a quiet reminder for him to eat more. he eats every piece that yoongi gives him, even as he doesn’t quite finish his own portion.
when both of them push their bowls away, jimin feels nervous, knowing what is to come. he tries to avoid yoongi’s gaze as he reaches over to open the soju bottle, pouring both of them half a cup each.
“thanks, baby.”
jimin lets the corners of his lips lift, “thanks for cooking. and for letting me be mopey today.”
he’s started it, and he can feel the way yoongi straightens up from beside him, ready to listen. he lets out a soft sigh, fingers curling around the mug as he stares into the bitter liquid.
“i didn’t get it,” he admits, his voice soft. his fingers clench around the mug, as he grits his teeth. “they didn’t let me finish the audition. saw me do one song and thanked me for my time.”
“oh baby,” yoongi murmurs, and suddenly the tears are back. he looks up, looks into yoongi’s warm, understanding eyes, and it’s like the words get caught in his throat.
he doesn’t know if he can say anymore. he doesn’t know if he can bare the sight of yoongi’s eyebrows dipping into concern one more time, as he tells him that they just weren’t the right fit, and that someday, someone will see all the potential he holds inside, and everything will turn out as bright and as perfect as the way he sees him to be.
he doesn’t realise his breathing has picked up until yoongi’s right in front of him, one hand stroking his nape, and the other holding onto his chin. he tilts his head up to make jimin look into his eyes, “hey - hey, breathe, jimin-ah. you’re okay, baby. breathe for me, darling.”
jimin’s eyes are wide as he meets yoongi’s steady gaze. he gulps down a breath as he nods weakly, letting the feel of yoongi’s skin on his ground him.
“baby, baby,” yoongi coaxes, a gentle hand reaching out for jimin’s where they’re still clenched around the mug. he unwraps his fingers from the mug, and takes both of his hands into his own larger ones, pulling him up. “come on, come to the couch with me.”
jimin lets himself be led over to the couch, where yoongi plops down and pulls him with him. he seats jimin on his own lap, allowing the younger to curl up on his side as his arms shift to wrap around his waist. “okay, darling. talk to hyung.”
“i don’t know how.”
yoongi hums, ever patient. “can you start off by telling me why you didn’t want to tell me what was going on?”
“i don’t want you to be disappointed in me,” he whispers, feeling a lone tear fall, even as he squeezes his eyes shut.
he feels yoongi lean in close, a soft sigh tickling against his skin. a gentle hand runs along his side, and then there’s the ghost of a touch against the wetness of his cheek.
“i don’t think you know just how much i adore you, park jimin,” yoongi murmurs, his voice fond and warm with so much love that jimin can’t help but hiccup, another tear falling from his eyes.
he feels yoongi pause, and then his thumb is brushing against his cheeks, catching the teardrops as they begin to fall faster. jimin’s eyes blink rapidly as he tries to stop the tears.
“i want it all with you, park jimin,” yoongi murmurs, expression earnest. “i want to be the one who makes you laugh, and the one who gets to see you smile,” his lips twitch up, unbidden, as yoongi quirks his own up at him.
“and,” he pauses then, his eyes fixing on jimin as if he needs him to hear these next words exactly as he says them, “i want to get sad with you, park jimin.” jimin thinks his words have never felt more like a confession. “when things are heavy and the world feels like it’s all going to come crashing down, i want you to come to me. and i want to hold you and cry with you and remind you that you’re not alone,” he breathes, his eyes wide and imploring. “will you let me get sad with you, baby?”
and suddenly, it’s like all of jimin’s worries and broken dreams and fears come crashing down on him at once. he sobs, and flings his arms around yoongi’s shoulders, burying his face into the elder’s neck. “hyung, hyung -”
yoongi is nothing but soothing sounds while jimin cries, but he holds jimin tighter, rocking him in his arms. “it’s okay, baby. let it out, let it all out. hyung’s got you.”
eventually, jimin’s sobs quieten down until they’re nothing more than little hiccuping whimpers. each shake of his body has yoongi holding him tighter, pressing soft kisses against every part of skin he can reach. jimin takes in a single shuddering breath, and lets his body slump down against yoongi, drained from the outburst.
“it just feels like no matter how much i try, i’m never going to be good enough,” he confesses, his voice cracking at the end. yoongi hugs him closer, “i don’t know how much longer i can do this, hyung.”
“jimin-ah,” yoongi sighs, and jimin tenses for all of one moment, before yoongi is running a finger across his furrowed brow and he relaxes. “baby, you don’t have to do anything that you feel like you don’t want to do anymore,” his lips quirk, “but, you and i both know that dancing runs in your veins. you’re captivating when you move, and you would do it for yourself, even if they told you no.”
“but they’re the ones who can give me a job,” jimin pouts, his nose scrunching up. he hates the way his voice still holds that petulant tinge to it, but it’s how he feels, and he’s determined to let yoongi soothe him.
yoongi shrugs, “then maybe you don’t do it for a job. or maybe you take a break from auditioning for these companies, and just let yourself dance for the sake of dancing again, baby.” he leans back against the couch, bringing jimin with him so that he’s sprawled forward against his chest. “baby, you call the shots. it’s your life, darling, you can’t let how others feel about you dictate what you do.”
“but hyung, what if i’m really not good enough?” it’s his most quiet, insidious worry spoken aloud to the person who he’s most afraid to hear the answer from. he can tell yoongi understands that the question is bigger than he’s making it sound when he lets out a little sigh, and brings his hand up to push back jimin’s hair.
“for who, baby? for what ?” his questions are not mean nor dismissive, but they’re blunt - intended to make him confront, properly, his own answer. as if sensing his hesitation, yoongi’s hand is pulling him up to meet his own steady, certain gaze. “you just have to be enough for yourself. we’re just falling for your overflow.”
and it’s something yoongi has mentioned before. his overflow. he said it the very first time he saw him dance, and again, when they were getting to know each other, falling steadily more and more in love. that it was as if when jimin was feeling something, he couldn’t physically contain it in his own small frame, and needed the world to see it and feel it the same way he did. he said that was why he felt like he always had to be honest with jimin, because jimin could never hide his own emotions from the elder. and he said that it was this - this overflow, that made him so ready to leap in with jimin, where he was normally so cautious, because he knew that jimin would never let him be alone in his emotions.
jimin sighs, nodding weakly against yoongi’s chest. “i know, hyung. it’s just hard sometimes.”
yoongi smiles, his eyes gentle and understanding as they meet jimin’s uncertain ones. “that’s why you have me, mimi. so when things get hard, i can make them a little softer.”
“i don’t know hyung, i don’t know if i want you making me soft .”
it takes a moment, the nature of jimin’s comment so unmatching of the gentle mood they had created, before yoongi’s jaw drops, and he lets out a bark of laughter, “oh, you’re definitely feeling better now,” yoongi jests, jostling him playfully as if to shove him off his lap in disgust. jimin laughs, a bright, happy trill, and he smiles, bringing him back into his arms. “i mean it though. it’s your everything, minnie. even when you’re being crude and ruining the mood.”
“who knew you had such a way with words, hyung,” jimin manages to tease, even though his nose is still kind of stuffy and his eyes are still red from his tears.
yoongi laughs, butting his head affectionately against jimin’s jaw. “i’m a literal songwriter, baby.”
“yeah,” jimin muses, letting his lips twitch up in a small smile. “but you want to get sad with me. so i think you’re more of a fool.”
yoongi smiles, leaning down to press a soft kiss against his lips. he sighs into the elder’s mouth, as for the first time in ages, he feels like everything will turn out okay. “maybe, but you’re the one who’s in love with me anyway, so maybe,” he smiles against jimin’s lips, “maybe we’re both fools.”
and jimin can’t find it in himself to argue that point.
–
that night, when they’re lying in bed, curled against each other, yoongi murmurs into his hair, “i meant it, you know. when i said i want to do it all with you. when i said i want to get sad with you. i think, maybe, that sometimes it’ll feel like there are more bad days than good, but,” he shifts, so that jimin can look up at him. “no day can be bad with you, baby. and i don’t want you to feel like you’re a burden to me, jimin-ah.”
jimin swallows, but nods his head anyway. “okay, hyung.”
“i mean it, jimin-ah. you have your friends, the world, to look at you when you’re happy. to celebrate with you and cheer for you. and i’m not saying i won’t be here on those days too,” he pauses, his eyes intent on jimin’s. “but, it’s the days when you don’t have anyone else. when you feel like no one else can see you and understand. when your overflow is running on empty and you’re feeling scared of it all disappearing. that’s when i want to be there the most.”
and jimin feels the telltale prickles of tears in his eyes once more, but this time it’s not the from the heaviness. no, this time, it’s from the feeling of that weight being halved, as yoongi stands under it with him, and bears it with his own strength. “i love you, hyung.”
“i know, jiminie.”
“you know.”