WARRING HEARTS ○ YOONMIN FANFICTION

10. WEAKNESSES

Jimin stared at his reflection in the mirror. At the handprints on his ass. At his neck that made him look like he was a victim of a vampire. He had told Arin to reschedule the interview he was supposed to give that afternoon. He could hardly give interviews when he looked like this.

Biting his lip, Jimin touched the giant hickey on the side of his neck and shivered. Despite the evidence, it all seemed pretty surreal. When he had woken up in the gym yesterday, there was no trace of Yoongi in the house. Jimin would have thought it was just a very vivid, freaky dream if it hadn't felt like his buttocks were on fire and he didn't have dried come on his skin.

He wondered if Yoongi would even come this morning. He doubted it.

The doorbell rang.

Jimin's stomach plummeted into an icy hell somewhere below his boots. He pulled his sweatpants up and hurried downstairs. When he opened the door, Yoongi's eyes zeroed in on his throat. On the marks his teeth had left yesterday.

Jimin suppressed the silly urge to cover them. It felt like a small eternity passed before Yoongi looked him in the eye.

Jimin moistened his lips with his tongue, unsure what to say. Hell, he wasn't even sure what had happened. Strictly speaking, what happened yesterday wasn't sex; they didn't even kiss. Yoongi had just given him a spanking and a few nasty hickeys. So yeah, strictly speaking, it wasn't sex. But in some ways, it was worse. His memory was a bit hazy, but he was pretty sure he hadn't imagined Yoongi holding him afterward. Or had it been a dream? Looking at Yoongi now, it was hard to believe any of that had happened.

Jimin moved aside.

Yoongi entered the house, the very inflexibility of his movements speaking volumes. He was wound up tighter than a bowstring ready to snap. Jimin shut the door and leaned against it, feeling a strong sense of deja-vu.

Unexpectedly, Yoongi leaned against the door, too. Jimin had thought that Yoongi would try to put as much distance between them as possible. And yet they stood close. Their shoulders were brushing.

Jimin hooked a thumb in the waistband of his sweatpants and caught his lip between his teeth. Despite the several layers of fabric, his skin was tingling where their shoulders were touching. Jesus. This thing was ridiculous.

At last, Yoongi heaved a sigh, breaking the silence. "I hate to repeat the obvious, but..."

"It was a mistake," Jimin said, looking at the opposite wall.

"Yes." Another long, tense silence.

"Look," Yoongi said. "I don't want to be that guy. I'm not that guy."

"That guy?" Jimin smiled. "You mean the guy who's getting married in a few months, who says he's straight, and who says he doesn't like bullshit?"

"All of those things are true."

Jimin hummed. "You have a funny way of showing it. Why are you here?"

"What?"

Jimin turned his head to him and was a little taken aback by how close their faces were. "What are you doing here, Yoongi?" he asked in a low, soft voice.

"If you're so disgusted by what happened, you should have gone straight to Woo-shik and told him you were quitting. No one can force you to stay, contract or not." Jimin cocked his head.

"So, what are you doing here?" He studied Yoongi's profile as Yoongi stared in front of him.

He could see the barely noticeable pulsing of the muscles in Yoongi's jaw. Jimin placed a hand on Yoongi's biceps. The muscles went rigid as he slowly dragged his hand down Yoongi's arm to his wrist. He could feel the incredible tension in Yoongi's body, and it was mirrored in his own. Jimin cringed when he realized his fingers were shaking. Shaking. For fuck's sake.