18 years old Min Yoongi flies back to Korea to spend his vacation with his mother's family and twin Kim Yoonki when he got roped into his brother's problem.
After some begging and bribes of lifetime supply of chocolates and limited edition...
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Yoongi’s POV
“Oh hyung! Hi!”
Jimin breaks into a smile bunching up his cheeks and eyes into familiar crescent moons that would usually swooned Yoongi down to his knees but not right now.
He jogs towards the younger completely ignoring Hoseok calling his name.
“Don’t hi me you twat! What are you doing here?”
“I told you I’ll come cheer you up!” Jimin pouted not to getting why his dear hyung is getting upset at him.
“Cheering doesn’t entails going into the tryouts! You could do that on the bleachers!”
“But hyung~” Jimin clings to Yoongi’s arm and whining when the other glares at him harder
can I do that when I’m not close to you? I want to support you in any way possible and this is it!” Jimin spread his arms wide in grand gestures still grinning at his hyung.
Yoongi raised his hands up in exasperation, obviously so done with his best friend’s logic.
“You do you. I don’t even care anymore. I’m 100% done with this conversation. Just,” Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose with an exasperated sigh. “Just don’t do anything stupid. I don’t want to go to jail for replacing my brother if someone finds out.”
“Ha! If someone deserve to be in jail its your brother. That jerk, how could he do this to you, hyung? You obviously don’t deserve him, you’re too pure in this undeserving world!”
Yoongi didn’t even heard Jimin, too lost in his thoughts.
He just kind of stood there, spacing out and staring at the other side of the field where he can see Jungkook with a body fit shirt already soaked with sweat and an equally wet hair giving commands at the players playing in the center field.
He had noticed the bright sunlight highlighting his sculpted muscles hidden behind his shirt, the gleam of his sweat tracing down his forehead to his neck and some of it licking the slope of his nose, the way the senior’s muscles flex when he’s running from one direction to another, the way those thighs glide and maneuver through the players made him feel something weird.
“That dude is really a fine specimen, right?”
“Yes.” He sighed dreamily before he realized what has just come out of his treacherous mouth.
