anonymous || pjm

Pt.13

"Please don't do this, not after all we've been through." A voice sitting beside you mutters almost breathlessly, and for once you're taken off guard, never having heard the self-assured Min Yoongi beg the entire time you've been acquainted with him. Or, dare you say, been friends with him. Not Min Yoongi; a calm, collected man with dark black hair and equally dark eyes and persona.

The man sitting cross-legged opposite you deflates, expression faltering for only a second before his gaze drops to the floor. "I'm sorry, hyung, I have to."

"Please no," He reaches a hand out, voice faltering much like Jimin's resolve is with each passing second. "I love you?"

He sounds anxious; questioning, almost, and you would have laughed if not for the severity of the situation. Jimin's shoulders tense, and his grasp on the object in his hand loosens for only a second before he musters up his last bits of courage, lifting his gaze and smacking the +4 card on top of the others laying almost uselessly on the floor. "Uno."

A distant yell follows the sound of Yoongi's cards being thrown to the floor. Both actions being from the man himself.

The others cackle almost maniacally just as Jimin throws peace signs victoriously, watching as you hurl your now useless cards in his direction, the man laughing when none of them come even remotely close to him. "Back off, losers!"

Yoongi for some reason decided to stay when you both arrived at Jimin's house, hence why you're all playing Uno and cursing Jimin's entire existence. His other friends were all there as well, as suggested by Yoongi, just to play uno. Though the second you did arrive most had been sticking close to the male and whispering things to him you hadn't cared enough to know about—though it was enough to make him blush, you briefly notice— while Hoseok stayed back to talk to Yoongi about something or other. You only rolled your eyes, whispering weirdos under your breath.

They'd all made you completely forget about the reason you'd come over in the first place, the project you planned to finish long forgotten. For a second the thought made you jump up to your feet— but turning to see Jimin laughing so freely, so openly, head lolled back and his smile brighter than Busan sunshine, brighter than your phone screen on full brightness when you turn it on abruptly enough to burn your eyes after they'd become adjusted to the dark— yeah, there's no way you can tell him, no way you can bring disappointment when he's smiling like that.

Which doesn't make much of a difference when you're brought back to the present in which someone is making Jimin's infamous smile drop nonetheless, the male currently fighting for his life.

He's backed off into a corner, hands up as if he's been caught committing a crime, "Hyung, no," He starts, sweating profusely— not really, but he very well could be, what with the older staring down at him with dark, hooded eyes. (Again—not really, since they're the same height—not that Yoongi will ever admit to that). "Am I in trouble?"

"Take a guess."

Jimin avoids the older's gaze; breathing out small, halfhearted laughs as his eyes dart over everything and anything but Yoongi. "Uh," He looks up, hopeful. "No?"

A scoff of a laugh. "Take another guess."

Jimin laughs along with him before lightly pushing him away at that, the older blinking in response before taking a step back with a chuckle. Your mind immediately thinks back to panicked gay vs. confident gay. Your own thoughts and intelligence really boggles your mind sometimes.

Yoongi stands back as Jimin approaches you, still sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by colorful Uno cards and clad in the hoodie you'd borrowed after walking inside complaining about how cold it was, the man offering it regardless of how much you'd persisted that it was cold outside and that you were now inside—And Jimin just can't stop the fondness spreading over his features like wildfire, clutching at his heart as he helps you stand to your feet, the feeling not stopping even as he lets go and watches you walk away, bright smile and all. The feeling especially doesn't stop when you smile over your shoulder at him, muttering a—"We kinda still have a project due..." you fiddle with his hoodie, "Soon."