kpop and chill → yoonmin

twenty-two

Jimin looked over at Yoongi, who was staring out the window with a small smile on his face. Jimin loved looking at Yoongi, especially when he was lost in thought. Even though he tried his hardest, Yoongi was very expressive, even when he didn't mean to be. Jimin could sit and watch him for hours, watch the different emotions run across his features, until all too soon he would look over at Jimin and wink, telling him to take a picture. It would last longer.

Jimin never knew what Yoongi was thinking about in these moments, for he never told him, but Jimin had to assume he was happy. He hoped that Yoongi would tell him if he was ever unhappy, but Jimin didn't think he was. At least, not right then, when he was staring out the window, eyes twinkling, smile easy.

"Hey, tell me what you're thinking about." Jimin said, squeezing Yoongi's hand lightly. It was a futile attempt, every other time he'd ask, Yoongi would just ruffle his hair and kiss his temple before walking out of the room.

"Us," Yoongi answered. Jimin almost fell out of his own chair in shock that he'd gotten a response. He scooted his chair across the floor so he could rest his head on Yoongi's shoulder.

"Really?" Yoongi nodded and rested his cheek on the top of Jimin's head. Jimin closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. The smell of gingerbread men cooking – probably burning – downstairs and the fresh scent of Yoongi's shampoo calmed him.

"I was thinking about us, and our parents, and you, and everything." Yoongi said quietly. Jimin looked up at him the best he could, and Yoongi was still smiling to himself. Usually Yoongi didn't get this sentimental, but Jimin had learned to just relish in the moment whenever he did. So Jimin stayed quiet and let Yoongi talk. "And I was thinking about that fucking song."

Jimin laughed loudly, not being able to help himself. Yoongi smiled down at him and kissed the top of his head. "Really, Jimin, it's been years and I still don't know why there's a cowboy in space."

Jimin tilted his head up and kissed Yoongi on the lips. "It's just a music video, dear. You're not intended to know everything behind the concept."

Yoongi sighed, but his heart was fluttering. Calling him dear was something Jimin had recently picked up – probably from watching too many lifetime movies – and it made Yoongi feel like they were eighteen again.

Eighteen, without a care in the world aside than each other. Eighteen, when Yoongi would sneak out of his house in the night and visit Jimin at the park so they could feed the infernal ducks that tried to kill him. Eighteen, when all they had to worry about was whether Uri would hit Yoongi over the head and yell cooties for holding Jimin's hand. Eighteen, when all that mattered was that Yoongi had Jimin, and Jimin had Yoongi.

Now, at twenty-six, they had to worry about house and car payments, and whether Yoongi would be home in time for dinner. They had to worry about who was going to do the laundry and who was going to wash dishes, who would go to the grocery store while the other picked up the random clothes thrown around the house. (The clothes were all Yoongi's fault, Jimin had tried and tired again to try and get him to use the hamper, and Jimin thought that Yoongi just started throwing things on the floor to spite him.)

Neither boy – man – minded, really, not as long as at the end of the day, they ended up in the same bed with Yoongi's arms wrapped tight around Jimin's waist. Sometimes it was tiring, only seeing each other for minutes before they fall asleep, and the short time it took for both of them to get dressed and ready for work.

Moments like this, however, made up for it. The hours spent by the window on Saturdays, staring out into the world, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time made up for every passing glance on the way to the bathroom, or the stack of notes in the trash from Jimin to Yoongi, saying that dinner was in the refrigerator whenever he got home.

Yoongi reached over to Jimin and started playing with his hair, and Jimin sighed in content. It was the little things that made him happy, he didn't need expensive dinners or weekend trips, all he wanted was a fluffy blanket, his window, and the love of his life by his side.

"I still can't believe you made me dance to that at our wedding," Yoongi muttered. Jimin smiled at him cheekily and wrapped his arms around Yoongi's torso.

"It was fun! And you loved it, don't even lie." Jimin said, rubbing his nose against Yoongi's neck. Yoongi squirmed, trying to get away from Jimin's cold skin, but soon gave up when Jimin started pressing feathery kisses to his neck.

"I didn't love it, but I love you, so I put up with it." Yoongi said. He pulled Jimin out of his chair and onto his lap, always trying to keep him as close to him as possible. Jimin laughed, it was high pitched, and it made Yoongi grin like a dope. Jimin wrapped himself around Yoongi, pressing his chest flush against Yoongi's. "Are you close enough?"

Jimin shook his head and threw his arms around Yoongi's neck. He would never be close enough to Yoongi. Even when they were exhausted and sweaty from making love – Jimin absolutely refused to say the word sex, he said it made him feel dirty – Jimin never felt close enough to Yoongi.

"I love you." Yoongi said quietly, kissing the side of Jimin's head. Jimin mumbled the sentiment back to him, and Yoongi smiled. He wrapped his arms around Jimin and started kissing up his neck.

"What are you doing." Jimin asked, pulling away from the embrace. Yoongi smiled at him, but instead of the sweet, reminiscent one, it was filled with mischief, reminding Jimin of when they were eighteen and Yoongi looked at him like that all the time.

Jimin squealed when Yoongi picked him up by his thighs and grabbed a nearby cd off the side table. "Kpop and chill?"

—

THE END

it's been real my friends
(now go read cupid so the fun never has to end)
(#spon)