pairing: Jimin x Yoongi

genre: fake tutoring? if that’s a genre, hogwarts au, fluff

word count: 2.2k

warnings: none (unless you really hate fluff)

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“Jimin!” Hoseok waves wildly from across the corridor. “Where are you going?”

Jimin grins at the sight of the Hufflepuff bounding towards him. For some reason, everyone expected Jimin to hate Hoseok. At least, everyone in Slytherin did. Enthusiastic, optimistic, smile like sunshine, always dressed in daffodil yellow—the edgier Slytherins had plenty of reasons to steer clear of Hoseok. Jimin isn’t known as the friendliest Slytherin for nothing, though, and he made fast friends with not one but two Hufflepuffs: Jung Hoseok and Kim Taehyung.

“The library. I have tutoring,” Jimin replies easily.

Hoseok quirks an eyebrow. “For what?”

“Oh, just some Charms tutoring,” Jimin says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

The two of them walk down the corridor and turn left towards the library. Hoseok is bemused, to say the least.

"But you're pretty good at Charms," he says with a frown. “Aren’t you top of your class?”

“You don’t understand, Hobi. This isn’t just tutoring. This is tutoring with Min Yoongi.”

Jimin can pinpoint the moment it all dawns on Hoseok, but he won’t. He’s a man on a mission, and he cannot be late to his tutoring session with Yoongi. How is he supposed to make Yoongi fall in love with him if he can’t even be punctual?

Hoseok stops Jimin in front of the large double doors to the Hogwarts library. “Listen, Jimin. I don't think you should be dumbing yourself down for some guy.”

“Min Yoongi is not some guy,” Jimin insisted. “Besides, this was your idea. Or do you not remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” Hoseok scratches his head, looking sheepish. “But I wasn’t actually being serious. You should know better than to follow my terrible advice.”

“But this one was brilliant! You’re an underrated genius, Jung Hoseok.”

Hobi flushes at the praise.

Hook, line, sinker. Jimin knows better than to let his concerned friends interfere with his plan. What better way to get away with his (and originally Hoseok’s) questionable ideas than with flattery? It’s foolproof.

“Alright, but be careful. I don’t want you to be upset when this all blows up in your face, and it probably will. It’s one of my ideas, after all.”

The two boys get a faraway look when they recall Hoseok’s idea for the ultimate prank last year, the same one that gave half the Hogwarts population food poisoning.

“They’ll never see it coming,” Hoseok had said. That’s what he says before every prank, but let’s just say Hoseok is not the best at surprises. Usually “they” can always see it coming.

Hobi shifts on his feet. “Do I really have to remind you of Namjoon and his failed attempts to woo that one hot Ravenclaw? They called him Namjesus for months. He’s not even Christian.”

“This plan isn’t as impossible as Namjesus’s,” Jimin says with a roll of his eyes. “I think I have better execution than that idiot.”

“I’m telling him you said that.”

“And? What’s he gonna do? Hex me? We all saw how that turned out last year.”

Don’t get him wrong, Namjoon is one of his best friends, along with Hoseok. Jimin shows his affection to Hoseok by being his baby to spoil, and he shows his affection to Namjoon by gently bullying him.

Hoseok winces. “Harsh but true. Okay, I should be heading back to the common room, but good luck with your tutoring.”

He puffs out his lips in a kiss after he says “tutoring,” and Jimin laughs, shoving his shoulder.

“Trust me, I don’t need luck.”

With that, Jimin steps into the vast library, ducking under a third year’s Cheering Charm that clearly missed the intended target.

The library has never felt as massive as it does now. One quick glance around from his spot at the entrance makes him momentarily wonder if Yoongi wasn’t there. Maybe he just wouldn’t show up. Yoongi informed him that their tutoring would be at a table in the Charms sections, Jimin reminds himself, steeling his nerves.

Jimin passes towering shelves of books on Potions, Transfiguration, Herbology, unicorns, ghosts, practically everything but Charms, before he spots a flash of green and black between the aisles. Sure enough, it’s Yoongi in all his glory. He’s sitting at an empty table, hunched over a book about Advanced Defensive Charms.

What a nerd.

“Hey!” Jimin puts on his most dazzling smile before plopping down at the seat in front of Yoongi. A student nearby glowers at Jimin’s loud greeting.

Yoongi looks up, unimpressed. “You’re late.”

Jimin’s smile falls, wishing he could hex Hoseok with his mind for holding him up. It’s okay, he can still salvage this. “Thanks for offering to do this, by the way. It really helps.”

Yoongi shrugs. “It was either this or detention.”

Jimin is offended, and rightfully so. Professor Flitwick told Jimin that Yoongi was interested in tutoring other students in Charms, not that it was a punishment. If he had known, maybe he wouldn’t have asked for tutoring.

Jimin surveys Yoongi, his pretty eyes, his poker face, his black hair that falls into his face in just the perfect way. Who’s he kidding? He would’ve still jumped on the opportunity if he knew.

For once, Jimin isn’t sure what to say, so he focuses on taking his textbook out of his bag.

“Right, Sixth-year Charms.” Yoongi sighs, scanning the title of Jimin’s textbook. “Let’s get started with the Confundus charm. We learned it in 5th year, but Flitwick put it on all the exams in 6th year too.”

Jimin thinks it’s hilarious he’s about to get Charms tutoring from Min Yoongi, the least charming person on earth. He keeps this to himself though, because pointing out as much might not rub Yoongi the right way. He already feels like he’s skating on thin ice, and it’s only been three minutes.

The actual tutoring part seems to go pretty well. Jimin might already be one of the best in Charms, but that doesn’t mean that Yoongi isn’t still helpful. He’s surprisingly gentle, guiding Jimin’s wand with a large hand and soft touch.

As a 6th year Slytherin, Jimin feels that he should know Yoongi a little bit better. They’re only one year apart and in the same house, but the walls Yoongi has built around him are impenetrable. Yoongi only seems to be open with his two Gryffindor friends. Jimin’s seen the three of them laughing it up in the Great Hall or passing notes in class, and he can’t help but feel a wave of jealousy. He wants that with Yoongi, to know him and see him for who he is.

Even with his distracted mind, it’s hard for Jimin to purposefully throw his charms and make them go wrong. He knows he has to appear somewhat hopeless at Charms, but even when he’s trying to fail, his charms are strong, his wand movements are crisp, and his pronunciation is clear. Why is it so hard for Jimin to be bad at this?

The second time it happens, Yoongi narrows his eyes at Jimin, glancing at the confused first year that Jimin accidentally-on-purpose sent his charm at. Curse Yoongi’s perceptive nature.

“Try that again, exactly the way I taught you,” he says, pushing Jimin’s wand to point in the right direction and not at an unsuspecting victim.

Jimin runs a nervous hand through his blonde hair before performing the counterclockwise motion for the Charm. He tries to move his wand in an oval rather than a circle, and the end result is perfect. He misses entirely and the charm hits a book. The book hops off the shelf and starts dragging itself away. Jimin turns back to Yoongi with a timid smile.

“Was that better?”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, watching Jimin’s hand closely. He only hums thoughtfully in response. Jimin can’t help but swoon at how deep his voice is.

The rest of their hour-long session passes like this, with Jimin purposefully failing at one of his favorite subjects, then swooning at a confused, curious, and very much oblivious Yoongi. Jimin thinks he’s finally mastered how to be bad at Charms, but he must have overestimated his ability to fail.

“There it is again!” Yoongi points out, a frown etched into his face. “It’s like you’re doing it wrong on purpose.”

Jimin’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second before he shakes his head. “No, I’m not, I swear.”

Yoongi raises his brows. “Are you wasting my time right now?”

It’s in Yoongi’s disappointed voice, the creases on his forehead, the tension between the two of them. Jimin knows what Yoongi’s implying; he knows when he’s caught.

Jimin’s shoulders slump, and he drops his wand onto the table with a deep exhale. “Fine. You got me. I can already do a Confundus Charm. A goddamn good one too.”

Yoongi is perplexed, to say the least. He has no clue why one of the top sixth years would want tutoring from him in a class he’s already passing with flying colors, and he still has no answers to the lingering question on his mind.

Jimin finally looks Yoongi straight in the eye. “I’m sorry, Yoongi. I shouldn’t have done this. I just thought...never mind. Just forget it.”

“Spit it out.”

Jimin takes another deep breath. For someone as charming and confident and forward as Jimin, he’s awfully self-conscious. It’s not that he wanted to lie to Yoongi, it’s that he couldn’t make himself tell the truth. If Jungkook could see him now, he would laugh and call him a coward. How would Jimin even defend himself? Up until now, that’s what he feels like. A coward, a snake, a Slytherin, tricking this boy into spending time with him.

With another look into Yoongi’s eyes, swirling with confusion, Jimin decides that he owes him the truth.

“I like you, okay?” Jimin says. “I wanted an excuse to hang out with you.”

Somehow, Yoongi is even more confused. An utterly baffled expression crosses his face.

“You...like me?” Yoongi echoes, looking as lost as Hoseok in the Quidditch field (the man can’t tell a quaffle from a footstool). “You...you like me, so you signed up for tutoring?”

Jimin buries his face in his hands, which is a confirmation in its own way. “It sounds even more pathetic when you say it.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me?”

Jimin looks up at that. Yoongi’s face is splotchy and red, and he wants to believe it’s because of him.

“Ask you? You’re kinda intimidating, Yoongi.”

“But you like me anyway.” Yoongi smiles, a crooked, cocky, warm, beautiful smile that Jimin’s never seen before, and Jimin thinks he’s passed away for a moment.

“Yuh-huh,” Jimin sputters. This must be one of the first times someone has left The Park Jimin utterly speechless. The last time was when Taehyung missed his target and cast a Muting spell on him, but other than that? It’s unheard of, unrealistic, impossible even. Until Yoongi apparently.

Yoongi grins at that, and Jimin is almost overwhelmed by the sheer cuteness of this foreboding man’s gummy smile.

“Anyways, our tutoring session is almost over, and I have to help some hopeless fourth year after you. I think it went well, don’t you?” Yoongi stands up and walks over to Jimin, picking up his pen. He doesn’t wait for Jimin's response before continuing. “I don’t think you need tutoring anymore, but I figure I’ll give you this since you didn’t ask.”

He grabs Jimin’s wrist, gentle and soft, and writes his phone number onto Jimin’s forearm. “There.”

Jimin is sweating. This is the absolute last thing he expected to happen at the end of this tutoring session, and he daydreamed a thousand versions of it where he launched himself into Yoongi’s arms.

He still hasn’t fully processed that Yoongi’s number is scrawled on his forearm or that his wrist is still tingling from where Yoongi held it when a small boy taps on his shoulder.

“You’re in my spot.”

“Hello, Robert,” Yoongi says somewhat pleasantly, for him. No, for him, his voice was downright cheerful. How the turn tables.

That was supposed to be Jimin. He’s the charming, flirty one, the one that renders others mute. But here he was, feeling like he hit himself with his own Confundus Charm. Maybe it ricocheted off the bookshelves, who knows anymore?

Jimin is all but shoved aside by Robert, the fourth year. He’s never seen a student at Hogwarts who was so antsy for tutoring (excluding him at the beginning of his session with Yoongi), and he narrows his eyes at the younger boy. Robert avoids Jimin’s pointed look, already sitting at the table and looking up at Yoongi as if he hung the stars in the sky.

Jimin scoffs, out loud this time. Yoongi suppresses a laugh, and Jimin’s glare turns into a laugh of his own.

“Thanks, Yoongi,” Jimin says, still in a daze. His cheeks are still warm, and his mind is still full of Yoongi’s soft, surprisingly veiny hands holding his arm with so much care.

“See you later, Park Jimin,” Yoongi calls after him. Yoongi’s smile shakes Jimin out of the spell he thought he was under. He beams back at Yoongi, then glances down at the numbers on his arm. No, he is definitely not confused anymore.

Min Yoongi was annoyed. Yes, while it may be a usual thing for him to be grumpy and spiteful, he is never one to get affected by what other’s do. He just simply doesn’t care.

But now, as he stares at the slightly shorter, chubby boy, smiling oh-so-beautifully at Taemee..Taemu…? Tamean? ..He couldn’t really remember the boy’s name..and he couldn’t seem to care enough to know either. But whoever that dude is, whatever his name is, Yoongi settles that he hates him.

He’s laughing and leaning in towards Jimin, whispering something into his ear all the whilst laughing even harder.

Yoongi scoffs and rolls his eyes. What did he even say that was so funny? Probably some lame *** corny joke , he thought.

They are at the KBS Music Show, and Jimin was to perform with Taemii ( he really couldn’t get the name right ), and the fact that he didn’t know what it is they were to perform made him feel just that much more on edge.

They were seated at the VIP seats specifically reserved for BTS, and soon enough,the music started to play.

Wait…this is Jimin’s song.. , he thought. And just then, he saw a shadow on the stage, with a several others at the back, probably a dance crew, he figured.

As soon as the first beat drops, so does his facade of keeping a straight face. Jimin glides through the stage, his presence empowering as he moves to the beat of his own song, God, he is just… enthralling. Ethereal. And everything good that can be found in the dictionary. His low-cut V shirt reveals his milky smooth skin as he dances to the rhythm of the song.

Yoongi felt his heart pound and stammer against his chest, Jimin was beautiful.

And then, his heart drops. He almost forgot that this is a duo performance, and so now, Jimin isn’t dancing alone, he is dancing hand in hand with Taemin ( yes he fucking knows the name of the boy he’d been glaring daggers at), the song now changes to something a bit upbeat, and Yoongi notices the small smile sporting on Jimin’s face as he dances.

Yoongi’s heart ached. He doesn’t look back up at the stage afterwards.

~•~

Yoongi is furious today, not only is he tired from performing three songs in a row at the Music Bank Show in Singapore, he is also tired of a certain someone.

He is furious because Jimin had been ignoring him from the second his eyes laid on that Taemin guy, smiling dreamily and slapping each other’s butts, being so comfortable in each other’s presence, so unlike Jimin with Yoongi himself. It is always awkward between them, and Jimin never really slaps Yoongi’s butt (not that Yoongi is comparing or something..not at all).

He tries to talk to Jimin, he tries staying close to the pink-haired boy, all the while glaring at Taemin from the other side of the stage. But Taemin just smiles back at him.(Yoongi hates him even more for being so fucking nice )

- Once the show is over, and they are all backstage, Yoongi decides to talk to Jimin to ask why he’d been ignoring him, but rather , he sees Jimin talking to Taemin behind a stage set ( Taemin is way too close to Jimin for his liking), and he never felt more furious.

He stomps towards the couple and abruptly grabs Jimin by the arm, pulling him and heading towards the closet-like door in the green room.

“Hyung, what are you-Yah! Let me go”, Jimin had said when Yoongi pulled him, but he pays no heed to that and enters the small storage room, closing the door behind him.

“What the hell, Yoongi..? What was that?!”, Jimin asks, huffing furiously.

Yoongi only stares at the boy, not knowing what to say. What was that?, he thinks to himself, and he doesn’t know the answer. He just felt so furious that he felt the need to drag Jimin away from that boy, he feels a weird tugging feeling in his stomach whenever he sees Jimin with someone else, and Yoongi doesn’t know what this feeling is exactly.

When Jimin sees that Yoongi isn’t replying, he turns back around to leave, “This is stupid”, he says under his breath.

Yoongi just dragged him away from Taemin without an explanation and he doesn’t like that one bit.

Just as Jimin opens the door to leave, Yoongi grabs onto his wrist, “Wait, Jimin!”, he says.

“You just dragged me away from Taemin! He’s probably waiting for me so I-”, he tries to say but is interrupted when Yoongi pulls him abruptly, causing him to be stuck between Yoongi and the wall.

He gasps and tries to hide his blush behind a glare, “W-what?!”, he says, trying not to sound as flustered as he really is.

He sees Yoongi huff furiously. “Why have you been ignoring me today?”, Yoongi asks.

Jimin frowns at that, he has? He notices the slight pout on Yoongi’s face but it was probably all in his head. “No I w-wasnt”, he says, his eyes wide and cheeks tinted with red. Yoongi is way too close.

“You’ve been with that Taemin dude the whole day and you didn’t even spare me a glance”, Yoongi says, feeling a pang of anger..?Jealousy..? in his chest at his own words.

Jimin tries not to smile at that, Oh so this is what it’s all about, he thinks. “And what’s wrong with that?”, he asks, playing along with the flow.

Yoongi doesn’t know what to reply with, Exactly Yoongi there’s nothing wrong with that., he thinks to himself but conflictingly says, “And you did all kinds of stupid dance performances with him, how come you never did a duo with me huh?”, Yoongi says, and he knows he sounds childish.

That’s because he is being childish.

“Hyung…you don’t do dance”, Jimin deadpans.

Yoongi feels stupid. “W-well, you never rapped with me either”, he remarks back.

Jimin downright laughs at that, “That’s because I don’t even rap! Seriously, what’s up with you today?”, he says between his fit of laughter. And Yoongi’s cheeks go red at that.

God Yoongi, Do ya have to embarrass yourself in front of Jimin?, he inwardly groans.

“Hyung..”, Jimin says in a monotous tone as he brings his face closer to Yoongi’s ( if that was even possible in the first place)

“Are you..jealous?”, Jimin asks, smirking oh-so-knowingly.

“Pfftt”, he snarks back, “No I’m n-not!”

Yes, yes I am. And goddamnit, stop looking at his lips, Min Yoongi, he inwardly scolds himself.

“Well, you know…”, Jimin drawls out, looking at Yoongi’s lips all the same. Yoongi could feel his breath on his face.

“It shouldn’t matter..”, he whispers, so close to touching Yoongi’s lips.

“You’re my favorite hyung anyway”, he says and pushes forward so that their lips meet. And Jimin felt so, so soft and pliant against his lips.

That night, they kissed, they made out, and Taemin was long forgotten from both their minds.

The sound of an approaching car pulled Jimin from his daydream, making him painfully aware of the heat causing his skin to stick to his bedsheets and the weight of his best friend, Taehyung, on his chest. He huffed, knowing exactly what the sound of the car meant. His father’s new apprentice was here, and he still had not finished moving his clothes into his new room for the summer. The tiny, cramped storage room which his parents had somehow managed to refurbish into a single bedroom. This room and his own bedroom shared a common bathroom with wooden doors separating them. The doors were slightly ruined now considering how old the house was, being covered in cracks.

He stroked Taehyung’s hair, causing the younger seventeen-year-old to hum. Tae was half asleep, the humidity of the summer air causing him to become drowsy. Jimin could not help but smile at the cute sound that came out of his mouth. Taehyung was also from Korea, like Jimin was, but his family had moved to Italy when he was around eleven. Jimin remembers the day they met. It had been Taehyung’s first summer away from his friends and he was so excited to be able to properly communicate with someone in his mother tongue. Throughout the years, Jimin had taught Taehyung how to speak both French and Italian, allowing them to communicate with each other without anyone overhearing. It was like their own secret language.

Jimin had grown up in a family that had been well-versed in languages. His mother had been able to speak German, Italian and Korean. His grandfather was Korean, while his grandmother came from Europe, her parents being German and Italian, so they had passed their multiple languages down onto their child. His father spoke French as well as Korean, but since both his parents were Korean, he had taught himself how to speak French. It amazed Jimin just how smart his parents were. Jimin could fluently speak Italian, French and Korean. His German was still a bit questionable – he could understand it and write it perfectly, it was just the pronunciation of the words that confused him sometimes.

“I need to go and sort out my clothes and bring them back here.” Jimin said softly. Taehyung nodded and allowed the older boy to sit up and stretch before making his way to his own bedroom, his bare feet padding against the wooden floor. He and Taehyung had been swimming in the lake a few hours before but when the slide of hands on bare, golden skin had become almost unbearable, they made their way back to the villa for some lazy making out, the warm summer breeze brushing over their skin as the soaked material of their swim shorts caused dark patches to form on the bed sheets.

The approaching car’s engine became louder as Jimin set his pile of clothes down on the empty chair by his desk. The desk looked out onto the grounds of his family’s villa, giving him perfect views of the peach trees and rolling grass hills that led towards the meadows and lake a few miles away. It was beautiful and calming – the perfect place for him to read or transcribe his music.

Jimin moved towards the window and looked down. A car pulled up below, blowing up clouds of dust that just missed the ledge of his window, which he was happy about. He didn’t want his lungs to be filled with those choking particles. As the car stopped at the main entrance, a young man stepped out of the car, wearing a billowy black shirt with an open collar, and sunglasses balanced on the bridge of his nose. Jimin frowned to himself. This one seemed different. He had an air of something that Jimin could just not put his finger on. He noticed his bare legs and saw that although they were skinny, they were well-defined with slight muscle.

He turned to Taehyung, pushing his fingers through his blond hair. “L’usurpateur.” He spoke in French. The usurper seemed like the perfect word to describe this man. He definitely seemed confident with himself. Taehyung jumped up to come and stand next to him, also looking down. Jimin could feel the heat radiating off his bare chest and smell the water of the lake as well as a hint of sweetness from the peaches they had consumed earlier.

Jungkook, the grandson of their gardener and handyman, appeared below followed by Jimin’s parents. Jungkook was around a year or so younger than Jimin, but he was already being trained by his grandfather to take over his job when he inevitable passed away. Jungsik was already in his late seventies but still seemed as fit as a fiddle – still being able to carry heavy machinery and fix the family car when needed, as well as ensuring that the peaches were harvested as well as the other crops that grew on the grounds. Jimin’s father, Jaehyun, was already in his fifties, but he was still a distinguished and vigorous gentleman, well versed in literature and classical music, and of course in his wife, Minjung, who was in her mid-forties. Jimin’s mother was kind and caring. She was always seen with a cigarette, but Jimin did not think anything of it. He would occasionally smoke himself when he was out with his friends. Coming to think of it, he hadn’t seen Hoseok, Namjoon and Seokjin yet. The five of them would always hang out, sometimes bringing Jungkook with him if he wasn’t too tired, going out to one of the local bars and dancing, drinking and smoking, enjoying each other’s company.

“Welcome! Welcome! Oh, my, you are much bigger than your picture.” Jaehyun greeted the newcomer. Jimin cringed. His father was always full of compliments, thinking that they were the way to make someone feel comfortable in their home, but from the way the man held himself, Jimin could tell he already had a huge ego that did not need to be inflated even more.

“Dove è Jimin?” Minjung asked her husband. Jimin’s eyes widened as he remembered that he had to be there to greet their guest and help him bring his luggage up to the room.

“Il faut que je descende.” Jimin brushed a hand through Taehyung’s hair before making his way towards the stairs while Taehyung changed into some clothes so he could cycle back home. Taehyung lived in the village, a few miles from the Park villa, but he would always cycle over to spend time with Jimin. It was just their friendship dynamic. Jimin’s mother had taken to calling them soulmates since they would do everything together, and would talk every day, even if they were in different countries. The phone bills were astronomical, but it was a sacrifice their parents were willing to make for the happiness of their sons.

At the end of the stairs, Jimin saw the apprentice being walked into his father’s study. Jimin loved spending time in the study, helping his father and reading his papers. There would also be times when Jimin would sit in his study and allow his father to just talk to him and explain what he was thinking, sometimes incorporating the roots of a word, just to fuel Jimin’s brain with more knowledge that he loved to take in.

Minjung saw Jimin approach and gestured towards the suitcases, pulling him from his train of thought.

“Aiuta Yoongi a portare le sue cose in camera tua.” Minjung ordered her son gently. So his name was Yoongi. It suited him. There was something alluring about Yoongi; it drew Jimin in like a fish to water, and that was confusing to Jimin. He never thought about any of his father’s apprentices in this way, he never allowed himself to, but there was something about Yoongi that was making him lose his self-control. Jimin shook his head as he entered his father’s study.

And there Yoongi was, lounging on the sofa, the exact place Jimin would sit, drinking a glass of fresh water. Even though he looked exhausted by the heat, Yoongi remained elegant and ethereal. He had removed his sunglasses and pushed them to the top of his head, causing strands of his dark brown, almost black, hair to stick up. His almond shaped eyes were piercing, and looked as though they had seen many things, lots of stories and knowledge were observed by them. Jimin wanted to hear every single thing. He wiped his palms on the material of his shorts which were still slightly damp as Jaehyun introduced the two formally.

“Jimin, Yoongi. Yoongi, Jimin.” Jaehyun said, allowing the two to shake hands. Yoongi’s hands were huge, engulfing Jimin’s small ones entirely, but that did not really surprise Jimin since he had quite small hands. Taehyung was constantly teasing Jimin about the size of his pinky, always comparing it to the size of his.

“Hello.” Jimin said softly.

“Hi.” Yoongi was non-committal which Jimin had to admit did hurt slightly. He wanted Yoongi to be taken aback by his looks. Jimin knew he was pretty. It was something he had always been confident in. He knew how enticing his plump lips were and how much his abs caused distraction whenever he was out with his friends playing volleyball or swimming in the lake So why did Yoongi not seem interested? Maybe it was his age, but Jimin did not care. Yoongi looked to be around twenty-five, but that eight-year age gap did not phase Jimin at all. If anything, it spurred him on even more.

“Make yourself at home. Our house is your house.” Jaehyun said to Yoongi, placing a hand on his shoulder as he left the study, presumably to find Minjung.

Jimin and Yoongi headed up the stairs together. Being the ever polite host, Jimin lunged for the heavy suitcase, allowing Yoongi to take the backpack. He didn’t have to know that Jimin had the ulterior motive of showing off his muscles, especially since he knew his well-defined biceps were pretty much completely visible under the shirt he was wearing.

“And my room is now your room. I’ll be next door.” Jimin explained, his bare feet making a small sound when they came into contact with the steps.

He smiled when they met Taehyung coming down the stairs. There were more introductions, Jimin revelling in the scent of Taehyung and Yoongi mixing. Taehyung always smelt like summer and peaches, whereas Yoongi had a slightly sharper smell of his cologne and the underlying hint of city. Jimin never thought that that would be a good mix, but he loved it, the sweet and sour scents working together harmoniously.

Taehyung kissed Yoongi on both cheeks, a common European greeting. Yoongi was curious about her and looked back as he continued to walk up the stairs. Jimin noticed this and swayed his hips slightly, knowing full well that Yoongi had a good view of his plump ***.

They entered Jimin’s, well now it was Yoongi’s, bedroom. Yoongi dropped his backpack and crashed onto the bed, exhausted. Jimin lay the suitcase next to the bed.

“We’re sharing the bathroom. It’s my only way out…” Jimin began, but Yoongi was not listening. He was already asleep, his lips parted as he breathed softly. Jimin longed to cuddle up in his arms, allowing himself to feel smaller and safe in his arms. He wanted Yoongi’s large hands to hold onto his waist, hold him down while they fucked. He wanted Yoongi to pound him into the mattress, making him cry from the immense amount of pleasure. Jimin lightly cleared his throat and walked out, closing the door that separated their two rooms. He wanted to leave before he did something stupid. He needed to be smart about this. But he knew one thing for certain, by the end of summer, Yoongi would be his