As Yoongi looked around his room, he felt himself get sentimental. His eyes filled with tears as his father set his suitcase down on the bed.
The room was just like he left it when he had to move to the hospital. His white walls were filled with yellow Twenty One Pilots posters. His bed was still neatly made and his computer desk in the corner without a trace of dust.
He took a whiff of the air inhaling the soft clean scent. He knew that his mother had kept it clean for him.
Suddenly, he felt an arm around him. His mom lightly squeezed him not wanting to hurt his incisions. She smiled excitedly.
"Can't believe you're back home!"
"I know. Me either." He said in astonishment.
"Do you want to eat something?"
"No. I'm okay right now thanks."
"I can help you unpack—"
"Mom. I'll be fine. I can do things myself. I'm still a little sore but I will be okay." He smiled.
She nodded even though he knew she'd still obsess about it. His mom had a hard time letting go. It wasn't her fault, this was how it'd been his whole life.
"We will be in the living room if you need anything. Don't forget—"
"To take my medicine. I know." He said finishing his fathers sentence.
After they left, Yoongi sighed and sat on his bed. He looked out the window into the pretty outside. It was particularly sunny which was misleading considering it was freezing outside.
Christmas was bittersweet for several reasons.
He noticed that his mom had decorated the whole house. It literally looked like Christmas threw up in his home.
The only place she hadn't put anything was his room and he figured it was because she wanted him to see it like he left it.
Once he started unpacking, he came across one of the suits Jimin had picked out for him. An icy blue tracksuit.
He picked it up and held it in his hands wondering if Jimin was excited for his date with Chanyeol. Had they already kissed? Hugged?
After his surgery, Jimin came to visit him daily. He didn't lie when he said he'd be there when he got out. He constantly checked up on him and even called him at night.
Things were fairly—normal between them to say the least. They were acting like they once did when they were friends. Long before Yoongi fell in love with him.
The last intimate thing that happened between them was the forehead kiss before his transplant. Jimin seemed to be focused in school and in not bringing up their past actions.
Yoongi was doing the same but today it was particularly hard. He was supposed to be happy to be home and spend time with his family and friends who were coming over for dinner.
Yet he felt so hollow.
So empty inside. So cold. Not physically, but emotionally. He put the track suit down and decided to hop in the shower.
He didn't bother his mom because he knew she'd insist on waiting outside the room in case he needed assistance.
For the most part he was able to do things normally. It'd been close to five weeks now so although he was a bit tender he was able to function quite normally.
It was odd not having to remove his oxygen before doing everything. He still caught himself in the habit of waking up at certain times to do treatments he was no longer required to do.
It was a hard habit to break free from. Hoseok had told him but now that he was actually going through it he knew what Hoseok actually meant.
His whole identity revolved around being sick. Now that he wasn't, now that he had a set of healthy lungs he was having an identity crisis.
Who was Min Yoongi?
The question circled his mind on repeat since the moment he woke up from the anesthesia. Who really was he?
He was twenty-five and didn't know who the hell he was. When he really thought about it, it made him panic.
So he closed his eyes briefly attempting to slow his increased heart rate while feeling the warm water hit his skin.
Instead of worrying about his identity crisis, he thought of something else. Of an alternative universe. Of Jimin.
As his hands brushed against his skin he remembered the way it felt to be touched by him. His fingers softly traced his collarbones the way Jimin had.
He envisioned Jimin's hands, his lips, his hair, his everything. The way he had slid his fingers across his shoulders and at the dip of his throat almost like he had been trying to memorize his body.
That night Jimin did more than touch him.
That night Yoongi felt wanted. Lusted. Someone actually liked his body. His thin brittle body that was covered in scars and imperfect structures. Jimin had wanted that.
Yoongi's breath hitched and once his hand was dangerously close to his navel he pulled back. He felt as though he'd been punched in his stomach.
Before he touched himself at the thought of Jimin, he decided to wash his hair. He couldn't keep doing this. Fantasizing over that night, thinking of the what ifs. It was no good.
He was only hurting himself and there was no one to pick up the pieces except him. At the moment he was too weak, too damaged to do so.
Shortly after, he was out of the shower. He dried himself up and picked up a pair of black jeans. He wanted to wear his typical comfortable clothes but considering they were going to have dinner later on, he figured he'd at least look decent.
His damp hair stuck to his forehead. He could feel it behind his neck too, making him slightly shiver. He was planning on cutting it after settling back in his home.
Maybe it would do him good to do so. To let go of things that were holding him back. Looking through his closet, he found a green plaid button up shirt.
For a split second he wondered if he still fit it. Then he laughed at himself because it was obvious he would.
Dr. Choi told him he would start gaining weight with time. They removed his feeding tube too, so that was a plus.
He started buttoning up his shirt when he looked at his reflection in the mirror. He ran his fingers across the horizontal line across his chest. It was a little pink but healing well.
Every now and then his chest ached. Though the procedure was quite advanced it was still very traumatic for the body.
When he heard the light knock on the door, he gasped, turning around. Before he could even respond Jimin had already peeked his head in.
Yoongi quickly pulled his shirt together hoping he hadn't seen it. The scar wasn't pretty and neither was the rest of his body.
"I'm sorry! Your—your mom said I could come in and—" he stepped back embarrassed.
"No, no, it's fine! I—I didn't expect you to come." He admitted with a blushed face.
He stepped away from the mirror and slightly turned his back towards Jimin. His hands were clammy so when he tried to button it up, he couldn't get past the third one.
"Let me help you." Jimin offered as he came behind him.
Yoongi tensed, refusing, "I can do it. I just need to—I just—"
Jimin stepped in front of him, taking his shirt. "Let me help." He said firmly.
Yoongi could feel the blush spreading all over his body. He watched Jimin's expression to see if he was disgusted, but his face didn't say any of that.
"Thanks." Yoongi whispered once he was done.
"No problem! Happy Christmas Eve!" He grinned, pulling out a slim box from his pocket in his jacket.
"Oh—I—I'm sorry. I didn't get you anything. I—"
"Don't worry. This is something I owe you."
Yoongi nervously unwrapped the gift box. It was wrapped in a Christmas tree wrapper. He did it without tearing much of it off. Sometimes he was a sentimental hoarder. Up until now, he still had the deflated balloon giraffe Jimin had given him nearly nine months ago.
As he pulled out the glasses case he raised his eyebrows. "Glasses?" He wondered.
Jimin grinned, "Just open it up!"
When Yoongi did, he stared at the pair of sunglasses. They were the same ones Jimin had forgotten in his room that one afternoon after he invited him to Jeongyeon's promotion party.
Yoongi had given them back after that incident and he didn't think Jimin would gift them to him. The memories came flashing to him within seconds.
That day he realized he fell in love with Jimin. That day he accepted his feelings but also accepted the fact that he couldn't ever tell him and that Jimin was unreachable.
"You remember? I told you I'd give them to you one day. We can finally do everything that's on your bucket list! You have to try this new restaurant they opened up recently. The food is amazing and the decor is fascinating..."
As Jimin rambled on about all of the future adventures, Yoongi felt his chest tightened. He closed the case and felt the lump in his throat.
He couldn't keep doing this. Pretending nothing ever happened between them. Pretending he wasn't madly in love with Jimin.
He was aware that Jimin was going on a date with Chanyeol. That his feelings for him didn't compare, but it hurt far worse to keep hiding it.
"Jimin, I need to tell you something."
Yoongi's tone took him by surprise. Jimin immediately stopped talking and the look on his face said it all.
Jimin could feel his heart race and his stomach felt uneasy. Afraid of what Yoongi could say, he shook his head in denial.
"Jimin please." Yoongi was defeated. Tired of the ongoing dilemma.
Jimin froze. He looked at Yoongi. The way his eyes were sunk, so deep blue Jimin could drown in them. The way his voice quivered, how fatigued he was and he could tell this wasn't only because of the surgery. It was emotional.
"Jimin, I didn't lie that night I told you I'm in love with you."
Jimin inhaled sharply. Holding onto his stomach. Yoongi swallowed back his load of tears because the look on Jimin's face was pitiful.
Yoongi instantaneously felt it. That little pang of pain in the center of his chest knowing that what he was about to do would break him into pieces.
"I couldn't help it, Jimin. You can make anyone fall in love with you and sadly I wasn't the exception. You're everything I want in a partner. I tried to push my feelings to the side. I tried to—I tried to not fall for you but I just can't look at you without feeling anymore. I don't know how not to feel for you. You arrived in my life late. I wish I could've met you before Chanyeol. Before you entered the program. Maybe things would be different now. I don't expect you to bend over backwards for me to spare my feelings. I am aware that you feel something for me. I know I intrigue you, but I also know that your heart belongs to Chanyeol. I just needed to tell you. Once. I needed to get it off my chest. We can stay as friends. I just need time to heal. Time to accept that we—that this is not going to happen."
Jimin's breath increased. He couldn't find the words to speak. His mind was boggled before he could say anything, Yoongi smiled adding more to his internal battle.
"You don't have to say anything. I'm not expecting you to. I needed to tell you to let go."
"Oh Yoongi I— "
"Don't you have a date to attend to? You should get going before you're late. Have a lot of fun. You deserve it. You deserve this. Don't feel bad for me. I will be okay." He lightly gripped Jimin's arm and then let go. He wanted the hold to be more friendly, but his fingers lingered around his arm far too long.
This felt more like a goodbye. A bitter goodbye to the endless possibilities that could've been. He hoped they remained friends, but he didn't know if could be his friend.
Not after everything they've lived. Yoongi thought it was infatuation. Maybe he felt so attached to Jimin because he'd been his first kiss. His first love. His first sexual desire.
Maybe he needed space to think things through. To focus on his mental and physical health. There were so many things going on in his life he didn't need this constant what if scenarios with Jimin.
Jimin's eyes flooded with tears. He blinked them away before he made the situation worse. His mind was spiraling. The words wouldn't leave his mouth.
If only he could—
"Yoongi I didn't know you felt this way. I—if I would've known I..."
"Jimin, I don't think that's fair to any of us." Yoongi said with a shaky breath. The knot in his stomach grew bigger causing him to be nauseous.
"Not to you, not to Chanyeol, and not to yourself. You have doubts about me. You've wanted to be with Chanyeol for so long you shouldn't give up on that so easily. I also don't want to be your other option." He whispered the last words struggling to get them out.
Up until this point, he didn't think he was deserving of Jimin. That he wasn't good enough, but looking at things from a different perspective helped him realize that he does deserve to be loved and to not be a second choice.
"You're right." Jimin admitted shamefully. "I don't know what I want and that's not fair to you. I just don't want to lose you. I don't want to—I want to be with you."
"Me too, but I think this is for the best. Our friendship will get through this."
Or won't.
A knock on the door made them both turn. Yoongi's mom's smile faded as he looked at the pity on their faces.
"I...sorry. I wanted to offer Jimin to stay for dinner. Jin and Jeongyeon are on the way and Hoseok should be here shortly."
Jimin sniffled a bit, turning his gaze away. Yoongi shook his head, "Unfortunately Jimin has other plans today."
"Yeah I...I do. Thank you Mrs. Min. I appreciate the offer."
She nodded with a fond smile, "Okay I—I have to go back to the kitchen. Almost done cooking."
When she left the room, they remained quiet. The air was thick and tense. They both felt constricted like they were asphyxiating.
Jimin's phone vibrated in his pocket. Yoongi heard it because it was so quiet in the room. He knew it was probably Chanyeol texting him.
"I'm sorry I ruined your Christmas Eve." Jimin murmured.
"You didn't ruin anything. Everything will resolve. You'll see."
Jimin abruptly sprung towards him. He hugged him tightly, gripping his neck closer. Yoongi returned the embrace defeatedly melting in his arms.
His familiar cedar and oakmoss scent was comforting to Yoongi. He wished that time would stand still. Freeze right then and there so they wouldn't have to let go.
But at last, they had to let go of each other. Jimin wiped his eyes and smiled one last time before leaving.
Yoongi gripped the sunglasses sitting next to the window.
He gulped down his tears while watching the ice particles melt down and he found himself sniffling as he quietly wept.
It felt like he'd been knifed and the brutal reality had driven in through his core leaving him to bleed to death from it.
December had always been so cruel to him.