Cliches | Yoonmin

o55

SATURDAY
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JIMIN HAD NEVER FELT MORE UNCOMFORTABLE IN ALL HIS LIFE. And he could sense Yoongi's discomfort too from right next to him as they sat around Yoongi's parent's dining room table, eating dinner in silence. The only sounds audible were that of linking utensils and sips from glasses. Jimin felt like crying. Yoongi was pissed.

He knew it would be a bad idea to being Jimin over for dinner when he got the call. He knew that his parents would no longer be supportive of the two, and that Jimin would be under heavy fire and scrutiny from them. They would tear him to pieces with disapproving looks and harsh remarks. But Jimin was adamant about coming. He said they couldn't avoid them forever and that this wasn't something he should risk his relationship with his parents over. Yoongi disagreed.

But now, sitting there with them, Jimin wasn't feeling as confident. He wanted to go home and curl up in a ball and never come out again. Yoongi gripped his hand tightly underneath the table, trying not to squeeze too hard. He was angry. His parents hadn't said anything to them since they arrived, and Yoongi was started to get fed up.

Yoongi couldn't handle it anymore and set his chopsticks down and a little too much force. Jimin jumped from beside him, and both his parents raised their heads. "If the both of you are just going to sit there, and not say what you want to say, then Jimin and I will be leaving. This is ridiculous," Yoongi snapped.

Jimin squeezed Yoongi's hand but the damage was already done. He was upset.

"What do you mean?" His mother asked, and Jimin could have sworn Yoongi was about to loose it.

"Really mother, you don't think we don't know why you called us here? I'm not stupid, I know you follow the news. You're disappointed with Jimin, and that's not fair to him,"

"Of course we are disappointed. You're dating a prostitute, Yoongi. You could do much better. That's not the life we waned for you," his father replied, nonchalantly. Yoongi let out a half scoff, half laugh, and pursed his lips angrily.

Jimin could sense that Yoongi was becoming more furious by the second. Before he could say something in retaliation, Jimin placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Mr. Min, have you ever worked a job you hated?"

Yoongi's father turned his head in Jimin's direction, with a raised brow. Yoongi glanced down at Jimin with a curious look.

"Pardon me?"

"Have you ever worked a job you hated?" Jimin repeated.

"Well of course I have,"

"Did you stay with that job?"

"Not all of them. Some of them I had no choice to,"

"Why's that?"

"Well because I had a family to raise. I couldn't afford to leave otherwise we'd be homeless. I worked two jobs and my wife worked three, just to give our boys the life they deserved,"

Yoongi still didn't know where Jimin was going with this, but he had his parents attention.

"I didn't intend on become a stripper," Jimin said in a soft tone. "I wanted to be a dancer. I was good too. My parents had put me in ballet, and hip hop, heck, they put me in a lot of different styles of dance, but ballet and hip hop were the ones I fell in love with. I did it all throughout my childhood and my early teens,"

"Dance school is expensive," Yoongi's mother interjected.

"It is, but my parents were paying for it. They were so proud they had such a talented son," Jimin explained. "But...when I was sixteen years old my parents found me in my bedroom kissing a boy. An hour later I was out on the street with nowhere to go,"

Yoongi's eyes went wide as the words tumbled out of his mouth. He didn't understand how Jimin so calm about this whole situation. Yoongi had been so thankful that his parents weren't fussy about who it was he dated, but to learn that Jimin didn't have the same treatment shocked him.

"I didn't want to be a stripper. But I could dance, and people told me I was pretty. I could make it in that industry. It paid good, allowed me to have a roof over my head and food in fridge. I hated it, but I didn't know what else to do. You know what that's like. To take a job you hate because otherwise you'd have nowhere to go, no food to eat. That's how I survived."

Another silence fell over the four of them as Jimin lent back against his seat. Yoongi swallowed the lump in his throat. He could feel the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks, but before he could turn to Jimin and say some words of comfort, Yoongi's mother reached across the table and took his hand in hers, patting it softly.

"You will always have a place in our family,"

The moment they were outside the house, Yoongi started sobbing, catching Jimin off guard. He didn't have a chance to react because Yoongi was pulling him in for a bone crushing hug, burying his face in the crook of his neck. Jimin wrapped his arms around Yoongi's neck, placing one hand on the back of his boyfriend's head and gently carding his fingers through Yoongi's hair. Jimin himself was crying too, but not has hard as Yoongi. "It's okay," Jimin whispered. Yoongi defiantly shook his head against Jimin's shoulder, but he was quick to calm him down. "Yes it is. I have you okay?" Jimin said, voice beginning to crack. "You're my home now,"

Yoongi pulled his head up, tears flowing relentlessly down his cheeks. Yoongi could see that Jimin was crying to, so he lent down and kissed his cheeks. Salty tears met wet lips, and soon Jimin's mouth found his. He kissed him feverently, and with love, hands pulling him down by his neck, closer to him than ever before. "You're my home," Yoongi mumbled against his lips, kissing him back with so much force that he had to wrap an arm around the younger to keep him from falling. Jimin pulled back slightly, with a soft, warm smile on his face.

"I. Love. You," Jimin said in between kisses. "Thank you for saving me,"

"No," Yoongi whispered, kissing his forehead. "If anything...you're saving me. I don't know how, but you are,"

Jimin nodded and rested his head against Yoongi's chest. "Can we go home?"

"Yeah," Yoongi nodded. "We can go home,"

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