Late Night Radio || Yoonmin #Wattys2018

♪This Is Home♪

Jimin Focus

"Open the door." The older purred, ending the call. Jimin's chest crackled- light and fire of midnight pyrotechnics bursting around his chest as if it was a July cookout.
He checked his reflection in the gleam of his window and winced. He looked like shit.

Fantastic.

The junior stood up- too fast if the stars clouding his eyes were any indication- and leapt over to his front door.
He pressed his ear against the wood and listened.

There was a consistent tapping and several heavy flourishes of anxious sighs that Jimin could definitely picture belonging to the older boy. He looked through the peep hole but only saw black.

Odd. He swung open his door and Yoongi tripped back into him.

"Hey." The college man swallowed, righting himself and stepping out of the younger's personal bubble that he'd just obliterated.

"Hi." Jimin adjusted the collar of his shirt. They stared at each other for a while: taking the other in after so long.

Yoongi was still in his black school security uniform; black belt, work shoes, thin rimmed glasses on and square shirt tucked into his waistline and a plastic marker bag laced between his fingers- probably just getting off his shift.
The junior boy licked his dry lips before speaking up (blush blistered against his cheeks when he swore he noticed the older's eyes follow the action).
"What are you doing here?"

"I- uh." Jimin crossed his arms and stepped away so he could let the older in and close the door. "How are you?" Yoongi said instead.

"Fucking stellar." Jimin said calmly, clenching his teeth and closing his eyes- making his ocean eyes pour angrily in an overflow.

There was silence while the brownie boy swiped under his eyes and tried to calm down. The night had already been too eventful for his liking, but officer Yoongi showing up just took the whole god damn cake.

"Minie, take a deep breath for me." Yoongi finally spoke. His hands twitched in the air around Jimin's body- unsure if he should make contact- and the junior could feel the older's worry wartting. "Let's go to the couch."
Yoongi kicked off his shoes and they walked over and plopped down into the cushions. Yoongi sat facing the younger while Jimin held his knees up under his chin with his back against the arm rest. He set down his bag and tapped his foot like he had been in the hallway: anxiously.

"What are you here for, hyung?" Jimin asked again- miserably.

"You." Yoongi said easily, holding his hand over Jimin's before taking it in his own.

"That's not what friends say to each other hyung." The younger chastised bitterly.
Yoongi laughed- really laughed- and scooted towards his sad little junior.

"I know." He sighed, reaching out with his other hand and pushing back Jimin's bangs. "I'm here because I said we needed to talk, right?"

"I thought you meant later- like a month from now" Jimin rolled his eyes with a firm pout. "How'd you find my house anyways? I'm surprised Mr. Lee didn't get out his rifle."

"He did. I said I was here for you." Yoongi gave a shy smile before shaking out his fringe (a nervous tick Jimin had picked up on a while ago).

"Then?"

"I came because I heard about the divorce." Yoongi whispered. "And I wanted to be here for you."
Jimin's eyes burned Yoongi looked like he was in pain at the sight. He held the younger's chin and tugged at his wobbly lower lip.
"Stop that. You break my heart when you look at me like that, two percent."
The working boy's voice was so soft, so quiet, it was just what Jimin needed in his house full of yelling. Silver hike trails slipped down the slopes of Jimin's cheeks and Yoongi panicked; hands whirling around the air by the kid's face- wanting to get rid of his hurt- but never made contact. He was at a loss for what to do.