Rainy Days: A Yoonmin Love story

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

Hoseok was furious!!!!! It took a lot to piss off such a ray of sunshine but it happened. He was angry at Namjoon for purposely holding back information – not that he knew. He was heartbroken when Yoongi locked himself in his studio instead of trying to talk to this Jimin kid. Oh, and was he pissed at Jimin for making his hyung hurt, but he was only told ever told that his hyung has and will always be in love with his beloved 'Minnie'.

With one final glance at the door of Yoongi's studio he stormed out of the company building ready to confront the cause of his friend's pain. He was unaware of what type of pain his friend was going through within the confines of his private studio. The volume of his music cancelled out his cries as he clenched his favorite photo of Jimin to his chest. Hoseok didn't know the song that blared through the speakers was created for the young father. He didn't know his hyung had been working on such song for years until he found the right words to let the younger know what he actually felt.

**

Jimin wasn't sure what time it was when he woke up. The thick curtains that hung in his room blocked any sunlight from entering. Assuming it was still too early he rolled over and pulled his son's tiny body to his chest.

He wasn't burning up like before but still had a slight fever. Thank God it went down. But Park Jimin, being the considerate parent he is – unlike those assholes – wasn't going to send his sick child to pre-school. He closed his eyes and allowed his son's even breathing sing him to sleep.

**

When he woke up the second time was because of the weight on his chest and the intense stare he felt. He cracked open an eye and was greeted by two dark orbs looking at him with curiosity. That was the only thing they had in common – their eye color. He looked like his grandfather, but had a little of both of his parents' personalities. Jungguk was cold and always glared at strangers or anyone who got close to his Appa who wasn't Uncle Tae, Uncle Jin, Halmeoni, or Hal-abeoji. With those he did know and actually liked he was loving and talked their ears off.

"Morning, honey," he yawned, ruffling his son's fluffy mop of raven locks.

"Monin, Appa," smiled the four-year-old, falling forward making Jimin huff at the impact.

"How are you feeling?"

"Bettew," answered Jungguk as he began to play with the necklace his father had on. It had two letters and numbers on it but he wasn't sure why. He knew that his and his father's name started with a 'J' but he was too scared to ask who the 'Y' belonged too.

"You like this thing, don't you?" chuckled Jimin. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around the boy's body. Jungguk knew what his father looked like, seen home movies and music videos of him, but never questioned why his dad never came home. He didn't know Yoongi had left before Jimin found out about the baby. He didn't know that his father didn't know about him.

"Wheaw is Abeoji?" mumbled the boy into his father's chest.

"He's working, baby. He wants to make our Junggukie proud. Now, get off so we can get ready to buy something to eat," he ordered the boys – who reluctantly got off him and headed to their closet to pick an outfit.

When they stepped into the living room, Jimin adjusting the straps of the backpack he had on, they found Taehyung wrapped like a burrito on the couch – his nose red and runny. Jimin laughed at the glare his brother gave, like who would take him seriously right now? He was wrapped in a pink blanket that belonged to Seokjin, his lavender lock stuck out in every direction, and his galaxy covered feet stuck out the blanket and hung off the couch.

"Ya! Don't you dare laugh at me Park Jimin!!!!!!!!" a string of coughs followed his raspy voice. "You guys suck," he pouted at his family as they laughed at him.

"Haha-I'm sorry," said the shorter man through his laughter. "We're gonna go get something to eat, I'll bring you back some soup or something," he promised. "Anything you want while were out in the city?"

"Strawberries," hummed Tae as he closed his eyes.

"Tsk". Jimin rolled his dark eyes and took his wallet out of his school bag. They stepped out of their apartment and wake the small journey out the building, Jungguk waving at the cute girl that lived across from them. (Don't tell Taehyung, but Ms. Dara always waved back at the four-year-old.)

That boy was beautiful, now that he sees him up close. That fiery red hair, those dark eyes, tan skin – no wonder Yoongi-hyung had fallen in love. Hoseok, followed the duo closely as they walked the street of Seoul. He learned the boy's name was Jungguk, had an advanced vocabulary for his age, he looked like a bunny, he sniffled every once in a while. He was beautiful like his father. So far from what he has seen, kid was Jimin's. The way they interact, holding hands, cute little giggles – yup definitely Jimin's son.

Wait! Did he just glare at that woman? Oup, Yoongi's signature 'I don't give a damn smile! His 'tsk'!!!!!

Hoseok froze on the spot. When he saw Jimin walk into the bedroom with the child he assumed he was younger, he didn't expect him to be so small. In the five or so years he's known Yoongi, his hyung was scared to contact Jimin in fear of jeopardizing the boy's career. He feared that Jimin would hate him for leaving him without a word. He feared he lost Jimin forever. But as far as he can see, he didn't lose the younger. Not at all.

"Appa, Abeoji will take long?"

"I don't know, baby," Jimin answered honestly. With Yoongi, he never knew what expect. "Why do you want to see Abeoji all of a sudden? You don't love me anymore?" pouted the red head playfully.

"No. BamBam and Yugyeom were tawking 'bout their Abeojis and I was sad. Abeoji never home. He alway wowking. He love singing mo den me."

The rapper lost the rest of the conversation as the father and son walked further and further. Everything was clicking into place. The kid was Yoongi's. This little boy was the only thing Jimin had left of Min Yoongi.

**

Yoongi looked around his apartment in disgust. Everything was dull and no Jimin. Nothing screamed Jimin, not even the small portrait he had of the younger. With the last swig of his soju he flung the bottle at the wall, shattering it on impact. He lost him muse. He lost the only thing he was living for. He stalked up to where the photo hung, took it off the wall, and threw it on the ground. He destroyed his apartment.