BTS Boy x Boy One shots and Drabbles

Yoonmin - Dream Come True

Min Yoongi doesn't go out, or at least he doesn't go out passed 10pm on a school night. Any night, honestly. He doesn't spend more time out of the house more than he needs, doesn't make a lot of friends outside of classes, doesn't talk to people unless they'll benefit him with his studies. In retrospect, Yoongi has a social issue with the rest of his world, his parents would rather him this he thinks, they've never complained about seeing him around the house more than they are. He'd most likely want the same, never having to worry if his child were out, worrying about their safety, what they're doing. Yoongi doesn't have a problem with this arrangement, granted he jitters at the voice of another without him expecting, and clams up when he's supposed to be presenting in front of the class. His being sheltered has caused him to be mentally afraid of little things. Still with that note, he's never had a desire to change his life.

And yet, Yoongi dreams.

Not, dreams in the way where he thinks about it constantly, hating his life and where he isn't, fantasizing about this dream. More in the sense that the first time he did, it became a recurring dream. He doesn't understand when - as far as he knows - he doesn't need anyone. But maybe it's just because he admires the one in his dream, Park Jimin. Park Jimin, in real life, is actually the drummer to his favorite band, Deafening Silence. A lot of their music consists of quiet music though angry lyrics; Yoongi doesn't necessarily relate to the lyrics, just enjoys their unique style of music. However, Park Jimin is nothing like the band, he is loud and proud, always on the news for scandals of partying and screaming profanities. But he loves his fans, he's good-natured, it's just the partying the public has a problem with. He's the only one in the group who's not ashamed of who he is, maybe subconsciously Yoongi wishes to be the same.

Except most of he's sure of is that he wished he had a friend like Park Jimin, every person who has ever known Park Jimin before he became famous talks of his loyalty, his trusting behavior, how serious he gets. To be that way on the inside, and proud and loud on the outside, Yoongi can only wonder what it's like to be his friend. (And secretly, even more than just friends.)

In his dream, he isn't boring old Yoongi, but Min Suga, sometimes Suga. In his dreams, Jimin isn't a celebrity, he goes to Suga's school, one where the people are nicer, less judgmental, more accepting, and he and Suga rule the school as the mischievous duo. People envy their brother ship, people don't know if they want to be Suga's friend, or Jimin's friend, or just them in general. In his dream, friendship is easy, talking is easy, but in reality, nothing is easy. In reality, Yoongi knows not a thing about what a friend is, doesn't know when it's appropriate to start calling someone a nickname, or curse in front of them.

In his dream, he worries of none of that. Park Jimin slips into the arms of Min Suga like nothing, all trusting and endearing. His smile is the shine on Suga's life, and the dream almost always ends with Jimin telling Suga goodnight, the two shifting from side to side until they walk separate roads to their homes. Each night before Suga goes to bed, he vows to confess, but alas Yoongi awakes in the real world. It's an arrangement he's gotten used to, doesn't expect to change.

Until his birthday - a day in which he usually spends with his parents at dinner, some restaurant where they get the waiters to awkwardly sing him happy birthday - isn't quite as such. Instead of the routinely dinner and singing and cake and presents, his parents have just left a note on the fridge, apologizing profusely, he guesses by the fifty-plus sorry's written down all over the note, about how they were called into an untimely though important business meeting. Could be out all night, but they promise to make it up to him, so they say on the note. He can't deny, he's a little disappointed, but he spies the cake in the fridge, it's unfinished with half of it covered in frosting and fruit decorations, though takes it out nonetheless. Removing the saran wrap that is haphazardly tucked where the plate's edges are, he cuts himself a small piece. it's a montage of sugar and vanilla cream as soon as he takes a bite; he actually enjoys strawberry but each year he says yes to vanilla flavors. Despite the rush he gets from just a couple of bites, the disappointment has drained his energy, and takes an early rest.

For the first ten minutes, he just stares up at the ceiling, at the way the plaster is barely visible in the dark.

The next ten, he is gone to sleep.

Waking up in the morning, it's always so cold, always so uncomfortable, with his alarm clock blaring and his mother banging on his door to get his butt out of bed or else he'll be late for school.

This isn't that.

The room is at a moderate temperature, and when he rises, he isn't groggy or sleepy. It's 6 in the morning, an hour before he ever rises to wake, against his will. He tries to tell himself it's because he went to bed early, ignores the temperature, eyes don't register his bedroom until he feels a cold, hard tile on his feet as soon as he rolls out of bed.

He's never had tiled floors.

He has carpet.

When he looks down, his eyes widen at the sight; the tiles are white. Clean, clear, blinding white with a glorious light sterling line separating each tile. He's panicking because as soon as his eyes rise from the ground, he notices the walls, all white as well. He turns around to see his bed, covered in white, fluffy blankets and pillows. The posters in his room have not a scratch or dent or fold on them, each one contained in thin, black frames on his wall. Each neatly assorted, pleasing to the eye. As quick as his eyes scan over the posters, he realizes immediately his favorite Deafening Silence poster isn't at all in the assortment.

This isn't Yoongi's room, this is Suga's room.