When Yoongi was younger, he could remember a quiet, dusty piano room, hidden away in his house. It was a small room, and the windows were nearly always open. The walls were the color of sand and the floor was of dull brown wood planks, chipped and scratched in some areas.
He could remember the thin white curtains moving in the breeze, long enough to sweep the collecting dust on the floor. He remembered scrambling into the room to close the windows when it began to rain, hoping that there wasn't a pool of dust and stagnant rainwater that Yoongi would have to clean up.
The piano was an upright piano, old and brown and dusty, like the room itself. It stood there, seeming almost lonely in a corner of the room, dust settling on the top of it but not on its keys. Despite its old appearance, the piano had gleaming keys, black and white, looking as though they'd never been touched.
Yoongi loved that piano for as long as he could remember. He could remember sitting next to his mother at the bench, watching her slender fingers dance over the keys and listening to the soft sounds pouring out of the piano.
It was a magical room, filled with dust and old music, the rays of sunlight sometimes hitting the shelf lined with music and the wind sometimes kicking up the dust settled on the top of the piano.
The room was tucked away into the house in a way that the sounds coming from inside it couldn't travel outside, which was perfect for Yoongi. He would stay up, even as a child, watching his fingers flutter over the keys and staring at the ink of the music notes on the sheet music.
When he was eight years old, his older brother used to teach him how to play. Seunghwan was only thirteen years old at the time, and he was the perfect example of a son and older brother. His father pressured him too much, expected too much, hit him too much, and one day, Seunghwan was gone. Yoongi wasn't sure how he'd killed himself, but he knew that Seunghwan left him to deal with his father by himself.
Sometimes Yoongi used to wonder if killing himself would've been the best way to escape his father. It was, in his father's eyes, a cowardly move, but Yoongi always saw his hyung as brave. He always wondered what it would be like, dying.
After Seunghwan died, Yoongi had taken to holing himself up in the piano room, playing the dust covered piano whenever he could as a way of coping with his brother's death. Yoongi's mother had taught Seunghwan to play, and after he had died, Mrs. Min decided to teach Yoongi herself.
Yoongi could still remember, years later, how smooth the keys felt beneath his fingertips.
The piano room, in a way, reminded Yoongi of Jimin. His comfort, his love, always there for him when he had no one to turn to.
Jimin was his everything, just like the piano used to be.
<3
When Yoongi went to the playground, the first thing he ran to would always be the swings. He loved the feeling of being up so high in the air. It felt like he was flying.
The playground was abandoned, yet again, and the clouds hid the sun, making Yoongi wonder if it was going to rain.
He hoped it would.
"Jiminie, come swing with me, please?" Yoongi asked, watching his feet dangle from the swing.
Jimin smiled at the small boy on the swing, walking over and and sitting next to him. They sat, unmoving, Yoongi deep in thought as he swung his feet back and forth.
"What's on your mind, baby?"
Yoongi looked up at Jimin. His eyes positively sparkled with endearment, and Yoongi could see the affection in his eyes. It made him feel really happy.
"You," he answered truthfully, a small smile on his face as he looked back to his swinging feet. "Can't stop thinking about you," Yoongi admitted.
"Neither can I."
They looked at each other for a moment, both of them sitting there on their swings before Jimin stood up suddenly and took Yoongi's hand, warm and soft, and they began to walk.
"Where are we going?"
Jimin shrugged. "I don't really know, I just wanted to take a walk with you."
"Oh."
Soon enough, they were following the trail for all of the walkers and runners, which was surprisingly empty and quiet. Jimin laced his fingers into Yoongi's and smiled. "I like this a lot."
Yoongi blushed. "Me too." Then he added with a small laugh, "I'm really craving ice cream right now, though. It's weird."
"It's not weird! We'll just get some before heading home," Jimin promised.
"Okay!" Yoongi grinned. He squeezed Jimin's hand gently and felt Jimin squeeze back.
It was a bit chilly out, as one might expect in late autumn, and they could clearly hear the sound of the crunching leaves under their shoes.
Yoongi shivered slightly, leaning into the younger for warmth. Jimin noticed and pulled his hand away from Yoongi, who let out a small squeak and a whine of protest. Jimin chuckled softly before wrapping his arm around Yoongi's small waist, pulling him even closer than before. This earned Jimin another squeak from the older, this time of surprise.
"You're cold?"
Yoongi gave Jimin a timid nod.
Jimin suddenly stopped, startling Yoongi, before removing his jacket and giving it to him. "Wear it."
Yoongi pouted. "What about you?"
"I'll be fine," Jimin smiled, "Just wear it."
So he did, the soft jacket being very much oversized on him, still warm from Jimin's body heat. He felt cozy.
"Thank you, Jiminie," Yoongi whispered.
The boys eventually circled back to the playground, but they walked past it, making their way towards the bench they always sat at, the place where they'd first met as children. They sat down quietly, their unspoken thoughts loud in their minds.
Jimin placed his hands in his lap and watched the sun begin to peek out from behind the clouds. "Yoongi, I wanted to tell you something," Jimin said quietly, "It's important."
Yoongi turned to Jimin and furrowed his brows, wondering what he was going to say.
"Do you love me?" Jimin asked. His expression was unreadable at this point and Yoongi wasn't sure what to expect.
"Y-yes, of course."
The younger suddenly looked very nervous, and he clutched his hands together tightly in his lap, knuckles white. "Then will you listen to what I have to say?"
Yoongi nodded, his stomach in knots for some reason. Jimin's unexplained nervousness was making him feel anxious as well.
Jimin gently took Yoongi's hands in his, squeezing them gently. "I love you."
Yoongi froze, eyes wide.
"W-what?"
"I'm in love with you, Yoongi," Jimin said quietly, "I've been in love with you for the longest time, and I can't keep it from you anymore. "
"What?" Yoongi repeated, not fully grasping what was happening. "Y-you love me?"
Jimin smiled softly. "Yeah, I do."
"You're lying," Yoongi frowned, wondering if the younger was just joking with him.
"Baby," Jimin said, "I promise you I'm not lying. There's no one I'd rather spend the rest of my life with but you. You're my everything, Yoongi, and I love you with all of my heart. I always will."
Tears pooled in Yoongi's eyes, threatening to fall as he gave the younger a watery smile. "I love you too, Jimin. I love you so, so much." He sniffled, finally starting to cry. "D-do you know how long I've been dreaming of this? For ages. I-I was just too scared of messing things up between us and-- and before you came out, I thought I'd n-never have a chance because you were straight."
"Oh, Yoongi, please don't cry," Jimin frowned, gently wiping the boy's tears away before leaning up carefully to press a soft kiss to Yoongi's forehead. "It makes me feel sad too."
"O-okay," the older mumbled, using the back of his hand to wipe the fresh tears tracks off of his cheeks.
"Shall we get ice cream for you, my little crybaby?" Jimin cooed.
Yoongi nodded shyly. "Yes, please."
Their fingers intertwined once more as Jimin reached for Yoongi's hand and they were off, both silently wondering how things would turn out between the two of them.
Yoongi did have to admit, though-- the ice cream was mostly what was preoccupied his brain during the walk to the parlor, not the boy walking beside him.
<3
school and my lack of sleep is taking a toll on my writing... i had the majority of this chapter finished yesterday but didn't have the time to finish it because of homework :,(
i'm literally struggling to stay awake right now.
Sooo.. question: favorite color? i love yellow-- pastel yellow, mustard yellow, basically any shade of yellow that's not bright and/or neon because that shit's gross. i started loving yellow because of my love of sunflowers :3
okayy i need sleep, so bye!
thanks for reading! <3