daybreak | yoonmin

may 20th.

"Doesn't matter now. I'm toasted," replied Namjoon. And if eyes could slur, that's what his did.

"I told you we didn't pregame enough, Jimin."

If it weren't for the lumpia, pancit, and rices laid out on banana leaves across the dinner table by Hoseok, it might actually smell more like the home it looked like. Green plants hung lazily from the ceiling and sat in large pots near the seating areas. There were many mirrors and many lamps of varying sizes and dimnesses. The feelings was cozy, familiar almost. And everyone in the party felt it, sprawling over his sofas, ottomans, the kitchen island, the windowpanes.

Traipsing toward them as if he felt Jimin's thoughts, Hoseok smiled and chewed with a plate in one hand. The other prepared to dap Jimin up, who, could not possibly look less ready for it. It came anyway, making Yoongi chuckle. 

"Jimin, right? Wassup, man. I heard you out here making delicious birthday cakes and shit."

"How many people you do that for?" Namjoon quipped, and when Jimin looked his way, Yoongi was already glaring. He continued, a mischievous smile forming, "Sound like you should start catering. Could be a good side hustle."

"Personally, I feel like the only birthday cake Yoongi needs is six shots of Don Julio but that's just me," Hoseok munched.

"After this, I'll be halfway there."

Wait, didn't he make my drink too? Jimin looked down at the liquid in his cup.

"Last time you said that was the night after graduation. You remember the next morning you woke up--"

"Alive. Exactly. Cheers to that," Yoongi said.

The others sputtered with laughter. The two of them waited for Namjoon and Hoseok to collect themselves for a moment before a smile grew on even Jimin's face. A question finally took root in his mind and Yoongi smiled back, suspicious but curious.

Jimin took a healthy sip from his glass and looked at Namjoon.

"What was he like in university?"

2:14 a.m.

The rain had turned all the asphalt to mirrors, reflecting the light of every pink neon sign and green traffic light. At the crossroads of 12th and Essex, it was as loud and as quiet as ever. 

"Your friends are funny," His own voice broke the crisp air like glass.

"That's cause incarnations of me," Yoongi grinned.

"Give it up."

The air was crisp, but still settled softly over them them. It amplified the faint rolling of car wheels toward the crosswalk. High beam lights hit them, stretching their silhouettes far out into the intersection. The rain would fall again soon. Jimin walked fast and Yoongi walked faster still. His calves burned as he licked his lips, his tongue too bashful to nudge the words past his lips. 

He'd been looking at the back of all of him for a while-- the cream puffer, the jeans, the desert boots-- before he said it. It was like fireworks shot out of him.

"So you told them about me?"

"Of course I did. I kinda had to after I started bailing on boys' night. Plus, you're my best friend slash situationship. Best frienduationship."

Underwhelmed somehow, he replied, "Yeah. Namjoon didn't seem too excited about me."

"He's my guy. I've known him longest," Yoongi stopped to face him, playfully raising his register, "And you haven't always been nice to me."