Addicted | Yoonmin✔

|forty|

I'm just a lost boy
Not ready to be found

Days past. It felt like years passed in a matter of seconds. Maybe it was seconds, maybe it was all an illusion. Yoongi was, during those few days, so in love and so lost in Jimin that he couldn't distinguish the pretty blue and purple flower-like bruises on his neck from the dark blue of the night sky. Jimin's smile and his laughter melted together with that of the sky at daybreak in the most poetic way. They woke up at daybreak, sharing coffee, barely wearing clothes despite the cold, because the moment felt warm enough for them.

Yoongi had become so addicted to Jimin that he knew that no matter what happened to him, no matter what path he might stray unto, he'd always end up crawling back to Jimin, like an addict begging for another fix. The brooding boy wasn't just addicted to the cotton-candy lad's body (but, for reference, he totally was), he was addicted to his entire being (which so happens to include his body).

The spaces between his ribs, the hollow of his hipbones, the soft flesh of his meaty thighs, the small bump of his adam's apple, the space behind his ear where the hair was the softest, the slope of his spine...he was completely sculpted for Yoongi's hands. Sometimes, Yoongi's fingers ran over the boy's body in the softest manner, barely touching him, scared to hurt him. When his breathing is deep, and his eyes are closed and his limbs are sprawled all over Yoongi's body, that's when Yoongi would run only the tips of his fingers over Jimin, scared to break the fragile angel. Other times, Yoongi would pull Jimin's hips closer like they belonged to him, thrusting in mercilessly as Jimin begged for More, oppa, I can take it! Nngghhh...ahhh!

They stayed up into the latest hours of the night talking, making music together, watching movies, making meals, making love, making memories. Yoongi was, thankfully, on a break from work, hence him being able to spend so much time with Jimin. They went on cheap dates for ice cream and strolls in the park (proudly holding hands, because Jimin was sick of being in the closet), and they wouldn't interact with anybody else.

Well, of course Seokjin wouldn't let that continue for much longer.

On their third night together, Jin knocked on Yoongi's door. Yoongi was in the middle of cooking dinner while Jimin was busy on his laptop in the livingroom. When they heard the knock, Jimin immediately put his finger to his nose and yelled “NOT IT!”, to which Yoongi replied with a groan.

He threw his dishcloth over his shoulder and walked over to the front door, and a part of him was scared that it might be Jimin's dad, but thankfully it was only his hyung standing on the other side of the door (not that Jin is any less dangerous). Jin's hands were on his hips and his eyebrow was cocked up. “Jesus Christ, are you two dead? It smells like sex and bad pasta in there!” Jin invited himself in, pushing past Yoongi. Yoongi only closed the door with a sigh before following him.

“Hello, Yoongi, haven't heard from you in a while, are you okay?” Yoongi mocked Jin's voice, which only earned him a scowl from the handsome man (who, even when wearing pink crocks, still could steal anybody's breath). Jin waved his hand in Yoongi's general direction and sat down by Jimin on the couch. Jimin smiled widely and hugged Jin, and Jin lovingly patted his head.

“Hello Jin-hyung! And no, we're not dead. Just been spending some alone time together,” Jimin closed his laptop and put it aside. Jin cocked his famous eyebrow.

“Mmhh-mmhh. I know what that implies. Is Yoongi any good, at least?” Jin giggled at Yoongi's exasperated expression, his eyes widening dramatically before narrowing in a scowl, biting down on his bottom lip. With his arms crossed over his chest, he leaned his weight unto his one leg, glaring the two pretty boys down. Jimin winked at Yoongi then covered his mouth with his fluffy hand, whispering something into Jin's ear. Jin's eyes widened and he giggled with Jimin, playfully slapping his thigh. “No, really? Shut up!”