Instagram (Yoonmin)

Chapter 79

Yoongi had had a depressing evening. He'd got a bottle of red wine, intending to watch some television and then start drafting his next song. Instead he'd ended up pouring over all the magazine articles of Jimin. He'd get mellowly drunk, and started crying - wishing that he and Jimin could just be together.

In the end he'd told himself off, because he was being pathetic, hardly the way a serious grumpy man would behave, and gone to bed.

He was in the middle of a delicious dream. Jimin had crept into his bedroom and was straddling him on the bed. He was saying he loved him, that the last meeting had all a been terrible mistake. His blonde hair was falling across those dazzling brown eyes and he was biting his lip, deliberately seductive.

Slowly, teasingly, he'd leaned down and their lips met. They kissed passionately, tongues duelling, moans escaping both of them. They'd rolled about the bed in a frenzy of desire, Yoongi running his hands through Jimin's hair, enjoying the reaction he was eliciting from the younger man. Then Jimin's nimble fingers had started creeping their way south, trailing a line down his chest and then into the waistband of his plaid pyjama trousers. Yoongi gasped and moaned... and woke up.

There was a knock on his front door. He was sure of it. He shook his head from side to side, sadly chasing the dream away, making sure he wasn't still asleep. No. Therr was definitely knocking. Blearily he checked the time on the clock by his bed. It was two a.m. Who on earth would be knocking on his door at this time of night?

Swinging his legs out of bed, he pulled on a t-shirt, and staggered out his room towards the door, calling, "I'll be  just a minute, hang on." He reached the door and pulled it open.

His mouth fell open.

Standing there on the other side of his door, the light from the hallway illuminating his face and body, was Park Jimin.

But it wasn't the Jimin he remembered. This Jimin looked beaten and broken. He was wearing dowdy clothing, and was clutching a bag at his feet. Yoongi's gaze travelled over his face, and he gasped.

Jimin's left eye was a cornucopia of blue and purple, his eye had almost swollen shut. The right side of his lip was cut, and was dribbling a little blood. Other bruises decorated his jawline and cheeks. His eyes were dull, but they sparked at the sight of him.

"Hyung? I'm sorry, but... can I come in?"