Hearing the doctor say his shoulder was not recovering as fast as he'd like truly sucked. Although he’s healed nicely, he’s not bouncing back like they all thought he would and is losing muscle by the minute. He kind of wishes he hadn't had surgery to begin with, and just played through the pain and taken all the shots. This is what you do when you play sports, it's what everyone does, just play through the pain. Yet here he is, hearing what any professional player fears the most. “It's time to think outside of the box.”
Yoongi doesn't even know what this means. Is he suggesting something illicit? If he is, would Yoongi go there? Although he wouldn't call himself a staunchly principled person, he had always believed in sportsmanship and liked to think of himself as an honest person, even if he doesn't appreciate being called a role model.
He doesn't get to go down that rabbit hole, though, because the end of the doctor's sentence makes his brain screech to a halt.
“...pole dancing a try.”
Wait. What? What.
“I'm sorry, seonsaengim, I think I missed something there. Did you say pole dancing?”
“Ah, sorry, Yoongi-nim, this will probably come as a surprise to you. It’s certainly something very innovative and off the beaten path, but you wouldn't be the first to have pole dancing therapy. Due to the, uh, sensitive nature of the approach, I only recommend this for very specific cases. We work closely with a reputable physiotherapist quite experienced in helping high-performance athletes strengthen and build muscle. I assure you, the credentials are there and it is all quite more scientific than it sounds. Unfortunately, Korea is not the best platform for it, I'll admit.”
Yoongi is sure his face betrays his utter bewilderment. This is further confirmed by Coach Kim’s pat on the back.
“Are you alright, Yoongi-ssi? You don't have to do it if you don't want to. You've worked hard your whole career and I'm sure we'll get there one way or another. If you do decide to go for it, I assure you, we'll keep this private. No one in the team will know. It goes as far as you want it to and however you want.”
Coach Kim’s worried face makes him want to cry. Half of him wants to get better just to make him happy, this man is all about his team and he’s hurting probably as much as Yoongi.
“I think I need to give it some thought, if you don't mind, seonsaengnim. Could you give me some material to read through over the weekend? Perhaps also the contact information for the, uh, the therapist as well. I'd like to do some research on her, if that's okay. You can let her know I'll be looking into it, I don't want to alarm her if I show up at her, uh, studio? Office?”
He feels like an utter buffoon.
“Ah, actually, it's a him. Park Jimin. He'll probably want to set an appointment for you. I don't think he takes walk-ins. In fact, he has a waiting list, but I’m sure his people will be able to find you a spot. Let me know and we'll arrange it ourselves. As for the reading material, I'll send you the information via email, if that's okay?”
No, correct that. Now he feels like a buffoon. A sexist one.
~~~
Dr. Lee did come through with some literature and a few research papers from reputable sources describing the benefits of pole therapy in muscle recovery. He's still a bit iffy, but he suspects it's for the wrong reasons. He's an open-minded person, he really is. He’s totally on board with whatever Tae and Kook and Jin have going, even if he doesn't want to hear the details. He’s just a bit on the what-the-f*ck side of the spectrum on this one. His brief research online earned him a few interesting videos that definitely didn’t look like therapy but were somewhat entertaining.
It’s not the pole dancing he objects to. It’s his body hanging from that pole and twirling around provocatively that he’s more concerned about. He’s not crazy about dancing in general and isn’t very good at it. He’d once considered a career in music, but had been told he was too pretty to be a rapper and would never be taken seriously. He couldn’t fathom putting up with the grueling schedule of a k-pop idol trainee. Although he hadn’t had it easy as an athlete, he felt comfortable with how it had gone. In the end, he rarely revisited his decision, even if he enjoyed mixing music in his off time, as rare as it was.
Also, the tiny clothes. He definitely had concerns about the tiny clothes.
“I’m just saying I’d pay good money to see it, and I’m not kidding. You’d look so hot, hyung.”
Yeah, trust Tae to put it all in perspective. Thank you, Tae, for your five cents, he said to himself.
“Tae, I don’t think you’re listening to me. First of all, stop imagining me like that, that’s just creepy.”
“You say creepy, I say a good, appreciative friend. Potato, poh-tah-to. Have you seen pole dancers? They’re a wall of f*cking muscle! And, like, sex, they’re a wall of sex. Wait, that doesn’t sound particularly approachable. Unless you climb them? I don’t know, they’re a something of sex.”
“Never change, Tae. Seriously. What would I do without you?”
“You’d die, hyung. You’d f*cking die. Of boredom. And possibly loneliness. Me and Kook and Jin are the lights of your life. The lights of your life who like to f*ck every now and then, no strings attached. Come join the dark side. Wait, the light side? You know what I mean.”
Maybe Yoongi should ask Jin.
Jin, it turns out, was considerably more helpful.
“That sounds like a great idea! You know, pole dancing is all about angular momentum, friction, and gravity. You know, solid physics principles. If you take the tiny clothes out of the equation, it’s just exercise. Really, you only need the tiny clothes so you have enough friction with the pole. Without it, you’d slide off.”
When he put it like that, it was almost reasonable.
“Jin, I mean, thanks, this helps? But how do you know this?”
“Oh, no, that isn’t me talking. There’s this girl I follow on OnlyFans…”
Well, it’s nice to know sometimes things are exactly what you think they are.
Predictably, reaching out to Kook only ended in him wanting to try pole dancing as well, which would probably mean he’d win a beginner’s competition by next weekend. Okay, this last bit was probably not likely, but he gave him three months to get there. f*cking Kook.
~~~
After mulling it over for some days, Yoongi finally gave Dr. Lee a call to confirm he’d be going through with the therapy. He’d decided he was infinitely more comfortable calling it therapy. Coach Kim was his usually supportive self, guaranteeing this would stay between them, as if Yoongi ever thought he’d be capable of violating his privacy. Someone should make that man president, or at least mayor. Maybe spokesperson for the Defense Ministry’s Agency.
The time had come to bite the bullet. Yoongi needed pole wear for his upcoming therapy session. He’d also graduated from calling them tiny clothes to “pole wear”, which sounds a lot like calling diapers “pull-ups” when you are a toddler, but there you have it. He’d been putting it off for days, but it was crunchtime. His first therapy session was a couple of days away and he had failed to secure anything online that would actually fit. He felt like it needed at least a couple of inches of material to cover his privates, these were essentially a bit more than the sports cup he wore! So now his only shot was actually getting himself to a store to get them. He put on his face mask, baseball cap and went his way.
Thinking back, he probably should have found a way to dump Tae instead of letting him come with him. This was patently clear as he heard Tae yelling “Shake your moneymaker, baby!” when he finally pulled open the curtains of his stall in the fitting room.
“Jesus f*ck, Taehyung, I swear to god I am going to smack you. I swear, I’m never ever taking you anywhere with me again. You’re like a dog that pees on people’s couches when you take them to someone’s home. Why do I even do this to myself?”
“Hyung, come on. You’ve built up the excitement, my cup runneth over. Pleeeeeeease can you come out? You’ll have to get comfortable in those anyway. Come on, just a quick twirl.”
“Tae, do you even know what “cup runneth over” means?”
However, in some really twisted way, Tae made sense. Yoongi filled his lungs with air, puffed out in one go, and walked out. He awkwardly stood in front of Tae, sure that he would unleash all things gaudy and rude at him.
“Huh”, he said, a blank expression on his face.
“Wait, just ‘huh’? Tae, are you alright?”
“Hyung, I totally thought you’d look all hot, but you basically look like a swimmer. And not even a hot one!” Tae looked almost offended.
Yoongi looked at his own reflection and agreed. He looked pretty much like his own self in tighty-whities. If said whities were actually dark blue. He gave off faint vibes of Hwang Sun-woo, not a stripper in Vegas. He turned around to check out his ass and was happy to see no crack was peeking out, despite how exposed he felt. Maybe this would work.
He could have escaped that store with some dignity if Tae hadn’t chosen that specific moment to yell ‘shake that moneymaker!’ again, causing everyone to turn around to look.
f*cking Tae.
~~~
On the day of his first pole therapy appointment, Yoongi arrived a bit early, parked, and leaned back in his seat for a couple of minutes to settle his nerves before getting out of the car. He grabbed his gym bag and casually walked across the parking lot, feeling somewhat protected behind his face mask and baseball cap.
Once inside the building, he sat down and waited until they called his name, as the instructions said in the email confirming his appointment. He probably should have read the attachments, but he didn’t think it would be any different than what he’d read online.
A couple of minutes later, a young woman came out of an office and looked around the reception until her eyes landed on him.
“Yoongi-hwanjanim?” she asked kindly.
“That would be me. Yes. Uh…hi.” ‘Jesus Christ, don’t act stupid, Yoongi,’ he told himself.
“My name is Cheong Ah-rin, I’m Park-seonsaengnim’s assistant. As we mentioned in the confirmation email, this first visit is solely to get all the housekeeping out of the way. Could you please look over this form and confirm all the information is correct? When you’re done, you can leave it on the desk and go through that door to the dressing room to change. The door on the far end to the right will lead straight to Park-seonsaengnim’s office. He’ll weigh and measure you, then do some tests to determine your starting level and design a plan for your recovery. Make sure you are dressed comfortably for the pole test. Good luck!”
Yoongi thanked her and made his way to a chair, where he reviewed all the information on the form. As expected, the data from his doctor’s office was correct. The pending questions seemed to be of a more personal nature.
What did he expect? To get better. He didn’t really know how to answer this question.
How much time did he think he could dedicate to pole therapy a week? Three hours at most. He still had his regular physical therapy and team training, even if he had to sit it out.
Would he be willing to get his own pole installed at home to accelerate recovery? Where the f*ck would he even put one? In the f*cking living room?
The rest of the questions seemed to be geared toward managing his expectations, which was understandable.
Yoongi placed the clipboard on the desk and walked through the door to the changing room. After changing, he put away the rest of his clothes in a locker and walked into Park Jimin’s office.
He was unprepared for what happened next.
The office was an office, a quite ordinary office at that. It had a desk, a scale, some dumbbells, some posters on the wall, and a couple of chairs. Perhaps the only thing out of place was a pole on one side. However, unlike the poles he had seen on all the YouTube videos, this one wasn’t metal, but covered in a pink material.
Yoongi turned to look at who he assumed to be Park Jimin and immediately knew something was wrong. The therapist was looking at him with what could only be called a baffled look in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, what are you wearing?” Jimin said, staring directly at Yoongi’s pole briefs.
“What, this? My pole briefs,” he replied, perhaps a bit defensively. It was hard to be cool when you were standing in tiny clothes in front of what was decidedly a very handsome man looking very judgy. The man’s sleepy eyes, currently open a bit wider, and his plush lips, currently in an open pout, made him feel funny. Maybe it was the jitters from this whole situation.
“I mean, how am I supposed to do any pole dancing unless I can create, errr, friction with, uh, the pole? I mean, pole dancing is all about uh, friction, and angular momentum, and gravity. And friction. Oh, maybe I already said friction? I mean, it requires a lot of friction to stop you from sliding off…”
“This pole has a silicone cover, so it’ll create friction with fabric. It allows this kind of therapy to be available for people without requiring any level of nudity. I do believe this is explained in the literature attached to your confirmation email? We expressly indicate you should bring leggings and a sleeveless shirt for your therapy sessions. Perhaps we weren’t clear enough?” he said, while making a face that showed he had no doubt they had been clear enough.
As he stood in his pole briefs, he realized he was, in fact, wrong the other day at the doctor’s office. This was definitely the moment he felt like a buffoon.
~~~
Jimin gave Yoongi a chance to put his T-shirt back on, but he had no shorts so he had to go at it with only his tiny thing as bottoms. Yeah f*ck it, he thinks it’s fine to go back to calling it a tiny thing.
“Please don’t feel embarrassed, this is a very common misunderstanding. This is why we send an email explaining what you can expect from our therapy sessions. I’m well aware that your current medical condition doesn’t exclude you from team commitments, so I’m sure you are quite busy and didn’t have time to read through our paperwork. Perhaps you could read up on it when you get home tonight?” he said, kind eyes looking back at him.
“I truly apologize, I’ve been dealing with some personal issues as well. Normally I’m more diligent. I’ll make sure to follow your instructions to a tee and thank you for taking on my case.” There, he was acing this patient-therapist professionalism sh*t. Like an adult. An adult in a blue banana hammock and a white T-shirt.
“Feel free to look up ‘pole fitness’ online, though it might give you a lot more information on core muscle development than anything else. We’ll be focusing on the fitness aspects, though you are certainly welcome to our pole dancing sessions as well.”
Wait, was that a hint of a smile? It was gone before Yoongi could check again. He wasn’t entirely convinced this guy wasn’t making fun of him, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. The therapist kind of had him by the balls here. The ones that were probably very obvious in his pole wear. Maybe it was better to go back to calling it that.
“We’ll start by placing these electrodes on your shoulder to measure muscle fatigue. I’m sure you’re familiar with them. Next I will ask you to perform some basic exercises on the pole. We’ll be able to chart your muscle response and design a plan for your recovery. It’s crucial that you avoid exerting yourself and let me know if any of the exercises cause pain, even in the slightest, okay? I know professional athletes are used to pushing themselves beyond their physical capabilities, but we want to focus on recovery and not performance,” Jimin said, a serious look in his dark-brown eyes. They looked good with his blonde hair.
Clearly he was going off his rocker.
As they went through the intake, Yoongi answered Jimin’s questions honestly and truthfully. He was happy to see none of the exercises he proposed seemed to cause pain. It gave him hope that this therapy would work.
“Yoongi-nim, would it be okay to discuss your answers to the form? More specifically, this last one. I’m aware that not everybody is comfortable installing a pole in their own home, but I do believe we’d make a lot more progress if you go through the routine I prepare for you at least three times a week. You’re obviously welcome to come to our pole clinic anytime. Do you think three times a week is doable?”
“Please call me Yoongi. Also, that shouldn’t be a problem. I’m fully committed to my recovery. Unfortunately, I’m currently, uh, between homes. I broke up with my ex and she got the house. I’m renting an apartment not too far from here. I’m afraid installing a pole isn’t possible.”
Yoongi cringed inwards. He wasn’t sure why he was blabbing, but he definitely was. For some reason, Tae yelling at him to shake his moneymaker came to mind, and he cringed even more. His ears were definitely pink now, if they hadn’t been already. Christ’s sake.
“Well, if you insist on being Yoongi, then please call me Jimin. I’ll email you the plan and you can schedule your training sessions with my assistant. Do you have any questions? Otherwise, my number is on the form, please don’t hesitate to reach out. I’ll be happy to answer any questions that pop up after this visit. ”
Yoongi recovered some of his dignity as soon as he put on his jeans and jacket, but, deep down, he still felt a bit ashamed about the whole ordeal. It made no sense, he wasn’t particularly ashamed of his body and was accustomed to being in various states of nakedness with the guys in the team. He’d spent half his life in locker rooms, his jockstrap was a lot smaller. Why had he lost his sh*t? Why was he so uncomfortable with the whole pole dancing thing? It wasn’t even pole dancing. It was pole fitness. This was a pole clinic!
~~~
For the next few weeks, Yoongi juggled practice, the few sponsorship events he still had, and pole training. It was hard, putting in even an hour a week felt grueling. The first steps in pole fitness were interesting, to say the least. The silicone on the pole helped him grip easily, but the basic principle of holding up your own weight was something he didn’t expect to be so hard.
Knee tucks were fairly easy, but he was promptly told by Jimin they would grow in difficulty as they moved to inversions and the chair. He’d looked into those and was sure that was not something he was capable of.
The pole therapy sessions were nice, though, even if they were excruciating. Jimin slowly let his charming personality show through, and he was warm and charismatic. His face was honest and expressive, so it wasn’t hard to know when he was surprised or excited, his eyes opening wide, or closing into little slits when he giggled in merriment. He could also command attention, deadpan as he gave instructions, reminding him of Coach Kim.
As Yoongi exercised, he looked at himself in the mirror, inevitably wondering if he looked hot. He still thought he looked quite ordinary to be frank. His mind would often wander to Jimin, his dark-brown eyes and blonde hair always haunting him. His buttoned-up polo shirt and track pants didn’t give away much. He was obviously slim, but was he a wall of muscle, like Tae suggested pole dancers were? Did Jimin pole dance when he wasn’t busy helping patients recover from their injuries? How did he start this business? Yoongi was sure these were not questions he could ask him over the phone, even if he’d said to reach out. “Excuse me, do you look hot when you pole dance?” was probably not an appropriate question to ask a health professional. A male health professional. Why did Yoongi care?
He decided to casually ask Tae about male pole dancers, since he was familiar with the topic.
“Hyung, why are you asking about male pole dancers? Are you sure your heart can take it? You’re doing pole fitness and almost had a pearl-clutching-stroke about it even though it is, quite literally, vanilla pole. Actually, that’s really you. You’re vanilla. Vanilla everything. No offense. Okay, maybe some offense? Why can’t you expand your horizons?”
“I am expanding my horizons. I’m hanging from a f*cking pole three times a week!”
“Don’t even, hyung. I’m sure pole fitness is where sexy goes to die. Trust you to find a way to make pole dancing unsexy and uncool. You’re like that uncle in the family who eats oatmeal every morning and goes to bed at 6 pm. You won’t even let us come with you to one of your classes!”
“Tae, they’re therapy sessions. It would be so weird! Even for you.”
“So find out where your pole teacher does actual pole dancing. I’m dying to know who he is. I bet he’s hot. I’d ask you but your vanilla ass doesn’t know hot if it comes lick it. The ass that is. Your ass.”
Tae was wrong, Yoongi was dead sure Jimin was hot. He dedicated more time than he cared to admit to the thought of Jimin pole dancing, but he’d never confess it. Yoongi was straight, what would he know about guys being hot? He was 30 years old, he knew himself, didn’t he? He was too old to wonder about his sexuality. Isn’t this something people do when they’re teenagers? He remembered his excitement at seeing his first tit and was sure that was called being straight.
His mind inevitably drew him to his last conversation with Soon-hee. She’d asked him where he saw their relationship going, and he had to concede that marriage was not in the cards for him. As much as it hurt to see her go, he just didn’t want the picket fence and dog. OK, maybe he wouldn’t mind the dog. The thing he’d liked most about their relationship was the fact that she was a career woman who appeared to need very little attention. So, after helping him out through his surgery and initial recovery, they’d amicably split the assets they’d gained the past 3 years and parted ways. The fact that they remained friends probably meant they didn’t love each other enough anyway.
Yoongi really did want a dog, though, now that he'd mentioned it to himself. His current rental didn't allow pets, but he'd make sure his next home did. Jimin had a dog, he'd seen the picture in his office. Maybe he could ask Jimin where he lived; if there were any units available, he could get a dog sooner.
He wondered who looked after the dog while Jimin worked. Did Jimin have a partner? Was he straight, gay, bi? Was he in a retaetionship, as Tae liked to call his arrangement with the boys? Did he f*ck on a first date? What did his shirt look like when he popped open the top two buttons? More importantly, did he pole dance in his spare time? What did he look like when he did? Did he close those dark-brown eyes and focus on the music?
It was killing him. He had to find out. He just didn’t know how. Or why. The why was worse. So he just sat on it, tried to tamper down the wish to look Jimin in the eyes, to catch him closing those eyes, tried to stop focusing on Jimin’s ridiculous lashes.
~~~
It turns out Yoongi didn’t have to ask at all. Good things come to those who ignore lashes while in pole therapy.
After some weeks, Yoongi had slowly worked from a knee tuck to an invert, even if he needed Jimin’s help to accomplish it. He’d started closer to the floor first to make sure his shoulder was strong enough to hold him. To Yoongi’s utter delight, it was.
Jimin had decided it was time to do an actual invert.
“Okay, it’s time, Yoongi-hyung! Focus on your hip position and make sure you’ve got a good grip. Make sure your shoulder is comfortable, then tighten those core muscles and bring those legs up, first as if you were making a knee tuck, then throw those babies back and spread them. I’ll help you, okay? I’ll spot you to make sure you make it. You’ll love the feeling!”
Yoongi didn’t share Jimin’s confidence, but he couldn’t help getting carried away by his enthusiasm and wanted to make him proud. As he tucked his shoulder and neck in the pole and engaged his core, he felt Jimin’s warm hands on his lower back and faltered a bit, but followed through. As he inverted, he spread his legs open and held with all his might.
“That’s it, you got it!” said Jimin proudly. “Here, let me take a picture.”
Yoongi was mortified, the last thing he wanted was a picture of himself, legs spread out on a pole, sure his face was red from exertion and possibly embarrassment, but he held on so Jimin could take a picture. This was probably more for Jimin’s sake than Yoongi’s.
“I think this calls for a celebration!,” Jimin said as he helped Yoongi down and back on his feet. “There’s this really nice restaurant around the corner. We usually have lunch there, they make a mean kimchi jjigae. My treat,” said Jimin.
Yoongi hesitated for a moment, not sure it was wise to spend time with Jimin under his current predicament. To his dismay, he saw Jimin’s face change from elated to worried, blue eyes big and round in concern.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to step on anyone’s toes. I apologize if I was too forward…” he quickly said.
“No no, Jimin, it’s fine! I’d love to go! Kimchi jjigae is one of my favorites. But please let me pay, it’s the least I can do. I really think pole therapy is working!”
He’d pay a thousand meals to see Jimin’s face change back to elation.
~~~
“Can I ask, how did you get into pole fitness?” Yoongi had decided to go for broke. YOLO.
“Honestly? It was an ex. I don’t think you’d know, it’s not in the bio we give out, but I have a background in dance — contemporary, to be precise. We met in high school and dated for about two years. We were both really athletic. Even though we started in ken-do, I slowly gravitated to the performing arts and he was more of a traditional sports kind of guy. After we broke up, I didn’t want to pole dance anymore, but I also needed to use the experience I’d gained. It took me a while to figure it out, but then I started to think of combining pole dancing with higher education, so I went for a bachelor’s degree in physical therapy. At that point I'd seen the wonders pole dancing does for muscles firsthand, so it was a no-brainer. And the rest, as they say, is history.”
Yoongi couldn’t help but notice a hint of sadness in Jimin’s eyes. There seemed to be more to it, but he didn’t press, even though the soju had made them both bold.
“I hope I’m not overstepping here, but how come you’re in between homes? I know you’ve been playing for your team here in Seoul for a while,” Jimin asked quietly. “Sorry, I follow sports, I kind of know who you are. Hope it’s okay,” he added quickly.
Yoongi didn’t really know how much he wanted to reveal. The fact that Jimin had mentioned an ex-boyfriend had made his heart flutter, and it made him feel out of sorts. Talking about the apartment meant talking about his ex, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about that hot mess.
“The usual story. Boy meets girl. Girl has a career, so boy feels safe. Girl wants marriage, so boy is out; girl is out. Assets are divided, boy gives up nice apartment overlooking the Han River. End of story.”
He knew he was being a dick. Part of him wanted to give Jimin a better explanation, but he felt raw and exposed. He didn’t really want to tell Jimin he’s not sure he ever loved Soon-hee, that he never saw himself in a long-term relationship with her, or anyone else for that matter. That buying sh*t together was suffocating, that he felt he couldn’t breathe in a house full of crap they’d bought together, that it forced him to make up excuses to stay out because it wasn’t really his house at all.
If Jimin was offended by his laconic explanation, he didn’t show it. He just rolled with it.
“Ah, that sucks. I dated a few girls, but, ultimately, I realized I had more meaningful relationships with guys. I don’t know, they’re easier to understand for me.”
Yoongi had no idea how to reply to that, so he said nothing, and simply focused on Jimin, who was staring down at his soju, deep in thought. As he turned to look at Yoongi, eyes blinking slowly, Yoongi caught sight of those eyelashes glancing sideways at him and he forgot how to breathe.
~~~
Yoongi was sure the fluttery, breathless feeling from last night was just too much soju and Jimin being ridiculously open and vulnerable; Yoongi was merely reacting to his frank nature. It unsettled him, but he didn’t think it meant much more.
He still had this nagging thought that he would only be able to come to terms with this whatever it was if he understood Jimin better. Understanding exactly why Jimin had quit pole dancing would bring Yoongi peace. Jimin was a puzzle to him. He was so giving, so sincere and honest, but still guarded in a way. He was like that polo shirt he wore: clean, impeccably white, but buttoned all the way to the top. There seemed to be so much more to him than Yoongi saw, but what was it? How could someone who loved pole dancing, who trained as a dancer, not want to cut loose?
Yoongi didn’t have much more time to dwell on it. His alarm rang, reminding him he was supposed to go out with the guys today. Saturday morning meant brunch at their local hangout, so he had to drag his ass to the shower and get ready in 20 minutes.
The hot water washed away the last of the fuzzy-brain feeling and his minty body wash made him feel renewed. Hanging out with the boys always brought out the best in him. As much as Taehyung annoyed him, he knew he had his back. Jungkook could be a competitive ass, but Yoongi would kill for him, and Jin’s dad jokes never failed to make him laugh. A day out with the guys was just what he needed.
~~~
“So all you have is this crummy picture from his LinkedIn? Seriously? I’m just saying there has to be videos of your pole dancing teacher somewhere. I mean,’WWW’ does stand for ‘world wide web’. There’s evidence of it all out there! What did you say his name was?”
Yoongi had to give it to him, Tae was nothing if not persistent.
“Park Jimin, and, again, he’s not my pole dancing teacher. He’s my pole therapist. If you ever meet him, could you please keep this tiny fact straight? He’s a really nice guy. It’s already sh*tty enough that we’re stalking his LinkedIn account. Also, why don’t you read his bio?”
Tae was already busy typing away on his phone and probably heard none of it. Yoongi let him get on with it, sure Tae wasn’t going to find anything he hadn’t seen himself. There were no videos in the usual online haunts, he’d already checked.
“Hmm, you know, that does ring a bell with me,” said Kook.
“Well, it seems he’s from Busan as well, but what are the chances that you would know him? That would be a ridiculous coincidence, you’ve got to admit.”
“Yeah, and there’s over 3 million people in Busan. It’s pretty much impossible that we’d know each other. It still rings a bell though,” Kook reasoned.
“Hmm, rings a bell for me, too,” added Tae.
“Tae, no offense, but you think you know everyone,” countered Yoongi.
“You throw a rock and you hit a ‘Park’. There’s gotta be like 5000 ‘Park Jimins’ in Busan alone. And then there’s the Park Jaemins, Yoomins, you name it. I tell you, it’s unlikely,” added Jin, the unexpected voice of reason. He started to think he’d misunderstood Jin all these years.
“Nope, nada. How can a pole dancer go through life without a single video on YouTube?,” Tae said as he looked up from his phone.
Tae had a solid point. He looked at his dongsaeng and realized he wasn’t his baby brother from another mother anymore, but a grown man capable of rational thought. Yoongi grew almost misty, until Tae opened his mouth again.
“Have you tried p*rnHub?”
The saucy little jerk.
~~~
It turns out that, if you kick a rock, you do hit a Park in Busan. In Kook’s case, because he’s the golden maknae, it turns out that rock hit Yoongi’s Park Jimin.
That morning, Kook had called a meeting of the Bangtan Clan, as he liked to call their group of four. They all met up at their usual coffee shop and, once drinks and pastries were sorted, sat around Kook, who opened his old KakaoStory account on his phone and put it in the middle of the table.
“I think I found your Jimin! I told you it rang a bell! So, back in high school I was part of a hip-hop dance crew. Man, we trained our asses off for like eight months! Anyway, around 10th grade we made provincials; the second we showed up at the venue to rehearse, we knew we were way above our heads. Everyone there looked like they’d been dancing their entire lives. I mean, we’d trained for eight months, so for the first few days we choked it down and practiced like everyone else, but we felt really out of place and uncomfortable and by day three we started to think maybe we should just pack it in and, like, go home. It was dire. That’s when your Jimin introduced himself and told us he really liked our stuff. It meant so much to us, because that dude was amazing! I mean, he looked like a professional dancer! His crew and ours kind of hung out every night after that, mostly talking bullsh*t. I mean, we were kids, you know? But they took us in and really made us feel at home. Of course we didn’t win, but they gave us the courage to participate. He really made an impression on me. I don’t think I’ll ever forget his kindness. It’s thanks to him that I became a choreographer.”
He pointed to a pixelated picture of several guys around a table, clearly having a blast. Tucked in one corner was baby Jimin, in his natural black hair and dark-brown eyes.
“Wait, you’re looking for this Park Jimin?,” Tae said, grabbing the picture suddenly. “He used to dance at this club I hang out in. Come to think of it, I never saw him again. He was hot. And good, like, really good! And really hot. I know I already said that, but he was really hot.”
“Wait, what? Are you kidding me? Is there anyone here who doesn’t know him?” Yoongi yelled.
“I definitely don’t,” said Jin, unnecessarily. Yoongi could never tell if Jin was serious or not.
“Look, if I’d said I knew a Park Jimin and he was hot, would you have considered it was your Jimin?” reasoned Tae.
He wasn’t wrong. Tae did have the habit of finding everyone hot. Also, they had to stop calling him Yoongi’s Jimin. Yoongi started to wonder when it had started.
“To be fair, I didn’t know he pole danced. He was a ridiculously good dancer, Kook is right. Man, now I really want to see him pole dance. We need to find him.”
~~~
Yoongi attended his next pole therapy session feeling a bit guilty. He couldn’t help feeling that he was somehow invading Jimin’s privacy. Which was fair, because he was. If the videos weren’t easy to find, there had to be a reason. Maybe he should just ask, but he just didn’t know how. He had issues being vulnerable himself, so he couldn’t ask Jimin for something he wasn’t willing to give.
So, he chose the coward’s approach. Food and alcohol.
“Hey, Jimin, if you have no plans tonight, would you like to have dinner with me?” Yoongi ventured as they neared the end of the session.
He thought he saw a veil of doubt in Jimin’s eyes and worried he had overstepped, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.
“Sure, that would be great! There’s actually a new restaurant I’ve been meaning to try. How do you feel about samgyeopsal?”
“Samgyeopsal it is, then. Give me 15 minutes to shower and I’ll meet you out front? Would it be okay if I leave my car here tonight? I kind of feel like drinking.”
“Sure, no problem. Actually, I think I’ll join you for a drink as well,” said Jimin.
Yoongi tried to settle his nerves while he was in the shower. He felt rattled. Was he nervous? Was it guilt? Where the f*ck was this anxiety coming from? He’d been through so much recently. The injury, the surgery, the break-up. Then it was physical therapy, sports psychology therapy, then regular psychological therapy to deal with it all. He was frazzled. He felt like he’d aged ten years in the last six months.
The only thing he hadn’t listed as a chore was pole therapy. It had become a safe haven. He wasn’t doing anything special. He was handling inverts and had added chair, tuck, and cradle spins with some panache, if he did say so himself. He didn’t care if the exercises lately were more like dancing. It didn’t feel like therapy anymore. It had become a way of expressing himself, and it made him happy.
He shook himself out of his meandering thoughts, shut the water off and made his way back to the changing room. He quickly noted he had two minutes left on the clock before he was late.
“Ah, here he comes. I was wondering if I should go in there to get you myself!,” joked Jimin.
“I don’t usually take a shower after our session. I probably enjoyed it more than I should, sorry about that,” Yoongi replied.
“Nah, don’t sweat it. I couldn’t help teasing you a bit. Actually, I struggle to be on time for pretty much everything except work, so you’re golden. No worries. Let’s catch a cab, the place is across town. It’s a bit far but I’ve heard really good things.”
Jimin was not exaggerating when he said this would be the best pork belly he would ever have. If taste buds could go to heaven, this would be it. His mouth was singing. Downing it with soju was definitely doing the trick too. He hadn’t felt this relaxed in ages. It helped that Jimin was easy to talk to.
Well, it was now or never.
“Jimin, can I ask you a personal question?”
“Sure, shoot,” he said.
Yoongi hesitated, probably still not drunk enough to follow through with his plan, but in the end he pressed on.
“Do you still pole dance? I know you once said you stopped after a break-up, but did you take it up again? I mean, I’m sorry if it’s too personal. If it is, please tell me to mind my own business. No skin off my nose,” Yoongi said, a bit too fast to be convincing. The drunken truth is he’d be crushed if Jimin ever told him that it was too personal and he didn’t want to share what had happened.
“I don’t, and yeah, it has to do with Jihun. That’s my ex. I don’t think I’m drunk enough to talk about it. Buy me a couple more drinks and we’ll see if you can pry my lips apart,” he said with a devilish smile.
Wait, was he flirting? Yoongi stared at said lips and felt hot all of a sudden. Maybe he should take it easy with the soju for a bit.
He didn’t, in fact, slow down the soju. Or the beer. He kept it coming, knowing this all was riding on liquid courage. Possibly for both of them. After quite a few more drinks, Jimin finally got around to it, looking uncharacteristically somber.
“Remember how you said your story was ‘boy meets girl’? Well, Jihun and I, it was obviously ‘boy meets boy,’ but not in your usual way. We were childhood friends, grew up in the same neighborhood, went to the same school, hung out together. We were inseparable. We were both really into martial arts for years. He was the first person I came out to, and it kind of rattled him at first. I guess he hadn’t really thought of himself like that either, but after some time he confessed he’d been attracted to boys, specifically, to me. That’s how we started dating. Then in high school I went more the performing arts way and he settled for playing soccer. He was your typical jock, super popular, team captain, you know the drill.
“Once the opportunity of moving to Seoul presented itself, we had to choose between having a long-distance relationship or breaking up. At that point, we had been dating for two years, but we were babies, what did we know? Anyway, we decided to stick it out. He hadn’t come out to his family – come to think of it, I don’t think he ever did. I discovered aerial silks, then pole dancing, and suddenly he wasn’t so keen on the performing arts. He thought it was too suggestive, too sexy.
“I started my own channel on YouTube, mostly to see how I was progressing in pole dance. I know you’re not into filming yourself, and I respect that, but it’s the easiest way to see what you’re doing wrong. Or what you’re doing right, really. It’s also great for your self-esteem. So I started my own channel, which wasn’t private at the time, just mostly unpopular I guess. I knew he followed me, obviously, and I guess part of the thrill was thinking of him watching me, thinking I was provocative. I can’t say I was innocent.
“What I did not expect was for my channel to be discovered by an old classmate in Busan. That guy really didn’t hold back in the comments. He pretty much called me a sex worker, which I’m not against at all, but it’s such a gross misunderstanding of pole dancing to begin with! They basically equated it to p*rn and called me terrible things.
“Since Jihun was still back home, I expected him to stand up for me. Obviously, I didn’t expect him to come out. I didn’t expect him to tell everyone that I was his boyfriend, but I did expect my best friend, my childhood friend, to stick up for me. Only he didn’t. He called me up and said I had to take those down immediately, that he’d been right when he said they were dirty and had nothing to do with the arts. I was heartbroken, the one person I’d thought would be supportive had failed me.
“So that’s how my relationship with Jihun ended. And I’ve spent every moment of my life since then proving to the world that pole dancing is, in fact, not only worthy of the arts, but that it can also contribute to the world of science. And I don’t think I’ve done half bad. I mean, look at all it’s done for you!
“I’m sorry, I’ve been going on for ages. I guess that soju really did the trick! That’s what happens when you wine and dine me,” Jimin said suggestively as he gave Yoongi a side glance and a wink. Despite sounding teasing, though, there was an air of sadness in his eyes.
Yoongi sat, flabbergasted, a myriad of emotions hitting him all at once.
First he felt sad for Jimin. He imagined how lonely he must have felt, how betrayed and disappointed. He understood the neat, buttoned-up white polo shirt, every single paper he had published, his methodical collection of data to come up with his therapy. It all made sense.
Then he felt angry that an asshole like Jihun could exist. He’d wrap Jimin in bubble wrap to protect him from the world, if he could. How could anyone treat Jimin like that? Kind, sweet, giving Jimin? What a dick.
Three or four hours later, they staggered out of the restaurant, laughing and holding each other up. After a hilarious back and forth trying to remember their addresses, then trying to figure out if they needed one taxi or two, they finally settled on two and called it a night.
As Yoongi settled in his cab, he leaned his head back, eyes closed and a smile on his face. He felt lighter than he had in ages. Jimin made him feel good, like the Bangtan clan did. It’s like he was one of the boys, only he wasn’t, if he was honest to himself. Jimin seemed to see through him, or see him. He made Yoongi feel present. Free.
He laughed, then stopped himself as he saw the taxi driver’s concerned look. Then he laughed anyway. ‘Excuse me for having an identity crisis, sir,’ he thought to himself.
Once inside his apartment, he got a bottle of water, some aspirin, and dragged his sorry ass to bed. He plugged his phone to charge and noticed a text message notification, so he turned on the night lamp, and grabbed the phone from the night table.
It was from Jimin.
“Hey hyung, since you’re interested, here’s a link to my unlisted pole dancing YouTube channel. Enjoy! Also, please don’t share but do like and subscribe 😉”
He immediately clicked on the link and spent the next three hours watching every single video. Twice. Then he watched them again.
It suddenly hit Yoongi that he probably wasn’t straight at all.
~~~
OK, so he’d watched the videos a couple more times, then convinced himself it was probably just curiosity, as you would. He was sure it was normal. All normal. He considered sharing them with the boys, then imagined Taehyung drooling all over Jimin, then got… angry? Upset? Jealous? Oh Christ. No, not jealous. He was just protecting his privacy, right? Jimin had trusted him with his private channel, and it would be really sh*tty to show the videos to the boys, right? Yeah, super sh*tty. He was just avoiding being a sh*tty human.
So Yoongi sat on it for a while. Which was fine, it’s a lot to unpack. A lot. He wondered if his relationships with women had been doomed from the start because he just wasn’t into women. Then he considered how much he enjoyed sex with women, specifically boobs, and was sure that he probably had issues with commitment, but he definitely liked women. He wasn’t objectifying women by reducing them to boobs, but he did love how they jiggled. The puss* wasn’t bad either. Not objectifying. Not. Objectifying.
But see, here’s the thing. His dick reacted to memories of boobs, and puss*, but it also reacted to Jimin pole dancing in exactly the same way. This was how he got to the point where he thought, if anything, he would be bisexual, because he definitely liked women. Except he’d never been interested in a guy. He’d spent a lot of time at a locker and seen a lot of men naked, had spent time at the sauna with the boys and he’d never thought of them like that. His best friends were as handsome as they come and he’d never thought of tapping that. It made him shudder, this was not a good place to go.
Then he thought it was probably a crappy thing to think, that you’d have to be into all men simply because he was gay. No, bisexual, Christ, he was bisexual. No, he wasn’t anything yet. That is, he hadn’t figured it out. Obviously he was something, whatever he was, it was fine, he was born this way. Was he bisexual? Was it just Jimin? Maybe he was Jimin-sexual.
Even if he was bisexual, or Jimin-sexual, this didn’t mean Jimin liked him back. It just meant he liked men, which he wasn’t generally opposed to. It simply hadn’t come up before. Maybe he was just into Jimin.
He needed to sort himself out first. He needed to know if this was just a Jimin thing. There was no point wondering what Jimin felt for him if he couldn’t figure out what he felt first. Or maybe he needed to keep his distance. But how? He had a month left in his pole therapy.
He also didn’t feel like he needed distance. If anything, he felt like Jimin was a nice, shady spot under a big tree where he could cool down from life being sh*t in general. He’d become a good friend and he didn’t want to risk f*cking that up. He’d have to ride it out.
~~~
“So guys, if, I mean, like hypothetically... No, what I mean is, what was it like when you figured out that you weren’t straight?” ventured Yoongi one evening as they were knocking back a few at their usual hangout, not being particularly smooth. In all honesty, he wasn’t very sure where they all stood on that. He knew Tae was gay, and he knew Kookie f*cked anything with legs, but Jin was unreadable. Jin played his cards close to the chest, so he didn’t want to presume anything.
If anyone noticed he was being a klutz about this, they were kind enough not to point it out. The boys always knew when to poke fun at him, but they also knew when to take him seriously. They were also aware that he was going through some form of identity crisis, so they didn’t pry.
“Well, I can’t speak for us all, but for me, it was kind of I always knew? I remember super being into a boy back in preschool. God, Tae-min was hot,” said Tae.
“For me, it was more like, once I discovered my dick, I just kinda wanted to put it everywhere. I don’t really put a lot of thought into how or why or with whom and I don’t really have a plan yet for what I want to do in the future, whether it’s a serious relationship or what. I’m still sowing my wild oats,” added Kookie.
“Lucky for us,” winked Jin suggestively, effectively sidelining the question. It seems Jin wasn’t going to give us any extra information, just as he imagined.
“Does this have anything to do with a certain pole-dancer?” said Tae, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Yoongi debated how much he was willing to tell, sure his ears were bright red and quite possibly giving away more about the whole situation than he could say with words. He wasn’t sure he actually knew much. It was sort of embarrassing to say his dick was doing most of the talking when he saw the videos. It was also a bad idea to mention the videos at all, since he was sure they’d want to see them.
“Hyung, you’re obviously attracted to him. Don’t put too much thought into it, just go with the flow. See where it takes you. I know you like to play it safe, but you won’t get anywhere unless you put yourself out there.”
Yoongi wasn’t sure Jin hadn’t given him this piece of advice only to avoid talking about himself, but he made sense.
So he resolved to explore it more. He’d walked into his session today thinking he’d ask him out for a meal, even if it was just a friendly outing for Jimin. For Yoongi, it was putting himself out there, digging into this effect Jimin had on him.
They went through all the usual moves, Jimin’s helpful hands all over him, while Yoongi prayed he wouldn’t get a boner he couldn’t explain.
Somehow, he survived the therapy session boner free. ‘Alright, man, it’s now or never,’ he told himself, mentally psyching himself up.
“Hey, Jimin, are you busy after therapy today? I’m dying to have some bibim nengmyun.” That’s it, Yoongi, just go for it, he told himself.
“Oh, sorry, hyung! I already have plans. Woo-jin’s coming to visit and it’s been ages since I saw my honey. Rain check?”
Woo-jin? Who the f*ck was Woo-jin? What the f*ck. What the actual f*ck? Yoongi mentally shook himself out of the funk, hoping it hadn’t shown in his face at all.
“Ah, no, I got you, no problem. I think I’ll just call it a day. Maybe drive by McDonald’s, actually. Have a nice evening!,” he said, walking quickly away before his face betrayed his true feelings.
Yoongi went straight to his car, opened the trunk and dumped his gym bag, slamming it shut a lot harder than he needed to. Who the f*ck was Jimin’s Woo-f*cking-Jin?
As he made to leave, he saw Jimin wave to someone across the street, so, like a creep, Yoongi turned off his car and waited.
Just a few seconds later, a ridiculously handsome, annoyingly perky man popped into his line of sight, carrying a tiny furry dog.
The dog in the picture in Jimin’s office.
Wait.
Okay, who the f*ck was this guy.
Jimin stretched out his arms to grab the dog out of the guy’s hands as the man moved to give him a huge hug, the dog disappearing in between them both.
Yoongi sat behind the wheel, grabbing so hard his knuckles turned white, then slammed his head repeatedly on the wheel until he accidentally hit the horn, jolting himself out of his hissy fit and quickly stuffing himself under the dashboard, hoping no one had seen him.
Was this Jimin’s partner? Clearly Jimin loved the dog, and the dog loved Jimin. The dog was licking Jimin’s face and Jimin was pretending to hate it but obviously enjoying it. And the man. Ugh, the man looked delighted. Who the f*ck carries all that sunshine around? Mr. f*cking Sunshine. Who would want to wake up next to that? Yoongi wasn’t bitter that they looked like a happy family. Okay, maybe a little bitter. That should be his dog. And his partner.
Whoa.
Still hiding behind the dashboard, he quickly tapped a message in Bangtan’s KaTalk group chat, adding a few beer emojis for good measure. Like the good soldiers that they were, they came to his rescue. Luckily, he had more than one shoulder to cry on.
“Jin hyung’s in 10. Last one there pays for the food. Yoongi, make sure the fried chicken is spicy this time.”
Yoongi sighed, then slowly peeked from behind the dashboard. It seemed no one was there, so he made to go after calling their usual chicken shiktang to place the order.
When he got there, the guys were already sitting around the table, chicken solemnly served on a large platter, surrounded by beers and soju. They looked somber, what you’d expect of a group hosting an intervention.
“Okay, don’t freak out, but we’re hosting an intervention,” said Tae. “A gay one. A gaytervention.”
“Tae, stop making up words,” said Yoongi as he rubbed his temples. He really wasn’t in the mood.
“No, hear me out. Sorry, I’ll try to be serious. It’s just, you know, odd. Look, we’ve been looking at you unraveling for months, this has got to stop. Why are you calling this emergency meeting? It has something to do with Jimin, right?,” he said, uncharacteristically somber.
“I think I have feelings for him.” There, he’d said it out loud.
“And how does that make you feel, hyung?,” added Kook. Anyone else would think he’s playing a shrink, but Yoongi was sure the kid was genuinely interested in knowing how he felt. So he went for it and just started to ramble.
“Honestly? It’s been days that I’ve been overthinking this, uh, I don’t even know what it is. Obviously it’s not a relationship, even if he has the floopy dog that I really really want. But then there’s that sunshine dude now, probably there’s a f*cking apartment too! And I think for like, five seconds I thought I could, like, maybe figure it out and then we’d be able to have a go at it because his eyelashes are so f*cking, just, I don’t know, so why not, you know? But now there’s the huggy guy and f*ck him so hard, what’s with that?”
“Wait, what’s a huggy dog?” asked Tae.
“No, the dog is floopy, the dude is huggy,” explained Jin, earning an “ohhhh” from Tae.
“Wait, you could follow that?,” asked Kookie, more than a little impressed.
“Oh, no, not at all. I just have a ridiculous ear for minutiae, but I’ve got no idea what you mean. What the heck is a floopy dog?”
“Sorry, guys, let me start from the beginning.”
So, in between fried chicken, beer, and soju, Yoongi tried to unpack the slow realization that he was really hard into Jimin, only to conclude he would become the one that got away at this rate. That he now had to compete with this sunshine dude. He didn’t offer a great deal of detail on the eyelashes, realizing it was perhaps more information than they needed to help him process his emotional turmoil.
To their credit, none of them seemed phased by it in the slightest. His guess was they’d figured it out ages ago and were patiently waiting for him to come around. These f*cking guys.
“Well, clearly, you have to go all kdrama on this one and tell him you have feelings for him,” reasoned Kook.
“That’d be so awkward, he still has a month of therapy to get through. I mean, how would that go? ‘Oh, hi Jimin! So here’s the deal, I have feelings for you. I think we should bone?’ Actually, that would totally work on me,” said Tae.
“That’s so crass. What kdrama have you been watching?” added Kook, clearly indignant.
“Babes, if I may. I don’t think it’s in Yoongi’s best interest to talk about boning right now. Yoongi, first of all, I congratulate you for successfully acknowledging you like dick, welcome to the club. I’m sure you have many questions about it, and we’ll get to those, but Kook is right. If I’m reading you correctly, you’d like to be friends with Jimin even if he is dating, right? If so, then I suggest you wait it out until you’re no longer patient and therapist, and then tell him how you feel. I mean, you never know, right? He might like you back. He also might not, but, if you’d like to keep him as a friend, then it’s best to just put it out there and tell him so you can move on for the sake of your friendship.”
Jin made a good point. He did want to stay friends with Jimin. He was dead wrong about Yoongi wanting more information about liking dick; he’d rather sit on an anthill in his pole briefs than hear what any of them had to say about dick, especially if it was theirs. Or each other’s. Or what they did with them. Yoongi visibly shuddered.
“So you’re saying I should keep going to therapy, keep having dinner with Jimin every now and then, and say absolutely nothing until we are done with therapy? I don’t know if I can do that, it sounds like torture,” reasoned Yoongi.
“Well, what are your choices here? A: You come clean, and he’s into you and you start dating. That’d be awesome! But, hear me out, what if B: You come clean and he tells you he’s dating someone and they’re exclusive? Or worse even, what if C: You come clean and he tells you he’s dating someone and they’re exclusive and he’s uncomfortable being friends with someone who has feelings for him? Then there’s D: He tells you he’s dating this “Woo-jin” dude but he’d totally be on board because they aren’t exclusive? Is this how you want your relationship to go? How about E: He tells you he’d love it if all three of you are in a relationship? And then you have to go to one more month of therapy with any of those scenarios in your mind. It sounds to me like that’s torture.”
When did Jin become the philosopher of the group? Still, it was food for thought.
“Dare I suggest that perhaps what Yoongi needs is to find out if he’s gay in general or just gay for Jimin? Just putting it out there,” added Taehyung.
You know you’re f*cked when your three closest friends in the world look this excited.
~~~
“I look like you let a f*cking kindergarten class have a go at my outfit with glue sticks, glitter, and crayons. Jin-hyung, what the f*ck is this get-up?” Yoongi looked at himself in the mirror one last time to make sure he wasn’t being close-minded, but the striped blue-green and yellow pants, red puffy shiny shirt and skinny white vest, topped with an absurd green hat with a long purple feather, looked like he was playing dress-up in a thrift shop. Or a pimp with really bad taste.
“I’m offended! If anything, it’s got a macho Carmen Miranda retro feel. I don’t see it at all.”
“That’s it, I’m taking it off,” said Yoongi as he changed, ignoring Jin’s complaints that no one respected his creative vision.
The guys were dragging him to a gay club, which sounded like pure hell, if Yoongi was honest. He was fine with the gay part, it’s the club he wasn’t so crazy about. He wasn’t the type to enjoy a night out to begin with, but they insisted he needed to experience a bit of the night life and get “his gay feet in the water” –Tae’s words, not his.
The last time Yoongi had to try to impress anyone, it was on the basketball court, so he was more than a little anxious. He wasn’t very good at people in general, so he wasn’t sure what exactly he was supposed to do or even why, but he understood what the guys meant. So here he was, trying not to let his face depict how not into this whole thing he really was. They called a KakaoT and made their way out the door.
The thing was, Yoongi did not lack self confidence. He knew he was hot, he’d never done badly hooking up. He also knew his friends were hot, so he was sure they’d catch everyone’s attention the second they got there.
The problem was he knew they’d catch everyone’s attention when they got there, and this made him all kinds of uncomfortable. Taking center court in a packed stadium was a piece of cake – after all, he was part of a team. The attention was diluted into all five of the players and he’d be so focused, he barely even heard the crowd, he was in the zone. This is how he made himself psychologically tough, how he avoided getting psyched out.
It was a whole other ballgame when he opened the doors to the disco and the music blared at him while he squinted to try to focus on anything inside the dark, crowded venue. This was daunting sh*t. He had the sudden urge to bolt straight home, put on his pajamas, and go to bed. He was pretty sure he was going to vomit.
“Come on, grandpa, I know what you’re thinking and nu-uh, we’re not letting you run away. Face your fears straight on!”
“No hyung, face your fears gay on!” Tae added for good measure.
f*cking brats, what did they know about fear? Still, Yoongi put on a brave face, or rather, his imaginary mask of disinterest, and a swag in his walk that he definitely didn’t really feel at the moment. No one needed to know he was psyching himself up by asking, ‘what would Tablo do?’
“Are you doing your ‘what would Tablo do’ thing?” asked Jin.
“That guy’s the sh*t,” added Kookie, looking wistful. If he’d been a cartoon, he’d have heart eyes right now.
“Come on, you hot pieces of ass. It’s the first time we bring Yoongi with us, this is our playground. Yoongi, go stand in that corner and try not to look like a deer in the headlights while I get you a beer. Guys, help him get that look off his face, he’s going to scare away the hotties,” said Tae, turning toward the crowded bar counter.
Well, so much for channeling Tablo.
Kookie and Jin did their best to stay with him for a whole 5 minutes, until Momoland’s “Wrap Me in Plastic” started to play. If he was honest, that was 2 minutes more than Yoongi had expected.
“Jin-hyung, come on, you have to dance this one with me! Pleeeeeease!” begged Kookie, making those ridiculous Bambi eyes that no one Yoongi knew was capable of saying no to.
“Oh my god I love this song, so I bid you adieu, exit stage! Oh, right, Yoongi, before I go, let me impart on you the wisdom that someone imparted on me when I started hanging out at gay clubs: if a ridiculously hot guy tries to pick you up and you aren’t sure he’s legit or a hooker, simply look at his watch. If it’s, like, super expensive, then that’s probably a hooker. I’m not saying don’t go for it, but, you know, go into it with your eyes wide open, yeah? OK, babe, byeeee!” yelled Jin before Kookie dragged him by the hand onto the dance floor.
Yoongi saw their faces get lost in the crowd, his heart beating erratically. He again had the sudden urge to puke and wondered if it was the nerves or the double cheeseburgers he’d gotten for dinner. He nervously stared around him, hoping he’d see Taehyung’s face headed his way, but luck was not on his side. Knowing Tae, he was already getting a blow j*b in the alley.
Oh god, what if someone did come to pick him up? What then? How do you even look at someone’s watch discreetly? Also, what the f*ck, Jin, all four of them had expensive watches! Yoongi stared at the Rolex on his wrist like it was cursed.
Wait, would anyone think he was a hooker?
While Yoongi thought of a smooth way to remove it and put it in his pants pocket, he felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around, expecting it to be one of the boys, but no, his crew had indeed abandoned him to his fate. A decidedly handsome face smiled at him instead.
“Hey, hi, I couldn’t help but notice you across the room. I see you’re drinking whiskey, can I buy you a drink?” said the face, which was attached to quite a body.
“Uh, well, honestly I’m not feeling great, maybe a drink is a really bad idea…” he mumbled.
“Oh, sorry, where are my manners! I’m Jackson, and I totally didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. Just, you honestly look like you could use a chat and a drink, and I like talking to pretty people. No strings attached.”
Yoongi took a quick glance at Jackson’s watch, hoping he wouldn’t catch him. Holy sh*t, was that a f*cking Patek Philippe?
“Wait, are you checking out my watch? Don’t tell me someone gave you that bogus “hooker” advice! I’m not a hooker, man! I’m a singer, I swear!”Jackson said, smiling genuinely.
“No offense, but isn’t that what a hooker would say?” replied Yoongi.
Despite the peculiar introduction, Yoongi ended up enjoying Jackson’s company. He was funny and charming, even if he wasn’t his type, in that he wasn’t Jimin. Jackson was easy to talk to, and eventually the topic turned to music. They went off the deep end chatting about what was wrong with the world and how to achieve world peace, music, rap, k-pop, the Chinese rap scene, and Ryuichi Sakamoto. Yoongi had his fanboy moment when Jackson mentioned he’d collaborated with Epik High not too long ago.
“Man, are you even serious? I’d kill to meet Tablo!” gushed Yoongi, not even trying to pretend he wasn’t impressed.
“Dude’s a freaking genius, I swear! He’s a motherf*cking institution,” went on Jackson, sighing contentedly, then knocking back the rest of his whiskey and slamming the glass on the table.
“So, what’s your story?” he asked point-blank, catching Yoongi off-guard.
“Uh, I guess you could say I’m new to the scene? I suppose that’s the best way to put it. Being bi kind of snuck up on me. I’m still trying to figure it out, you know?” Yoongi figured there was no point in beating around the bush. Plus, the fact that Jackson was a well-known singer made him feel more self-confident. After all, Jackson made no qualms about his sexuality.
“And you came to figure it out here, of all places? I don’t know if that’s how I would go about it, especially if someone told you to look out for hookers in fancy watches,” he chuckled.
“Look, it was my friends’ suggestion, and my friends are assholes, but they’re my assholes. They mean well,” replied Yoongi, feeling the need to defend the boys, even if they had kind of thrown him under a bus.
“Yoongi, you seem to have a good head on your shoulders, I’m sure you’ll figure it out. And you may not believe me, but I didn’t come here to hit on you. OK, maybe I did want to hit on you but you look like a deer in the headlights, and, as cute as that makes you look, and boy, are you a tasty morsel, I totally don’t want to be that guy, you know? You’re an interesting guy, and I don’t regret it one bit. It’s been a lot of fun. You know what? Here, give me your phone,” commanded Jackson as he stretched out his hand, palm up.
Yoongi didn’t even think of not doing as Jackson said and simply passed him his phone.
“Call me if you want to hang. Bring your music, let’s do something together. Totally not sexual, I swear! OK, maybe like 2… 3? Yeah, like 3% sexual. Maybe 5? No more than 5%, promise!”
Yoongi wasn’t 95% sure he wasn’t being hit on, but he felt the dude was a good guy, so he said, “sure, man, that sounds awesome!”
Not long after Jackson left, the boys dropped on him like piranhas, fishing for morsels of information on Jackson.
“Oh my god, who was that? what was that? What’s his name? Did he hit on you?” shot Tae without pausing in between sentences.
“Wait, was he a hooker?” said Kookie, fixedly staring at him with his big doe eyes, clearly a combination of impressed and shocked.
“Oh, he was a hooker all right. I told him to his face. I mean, he did have a Patek Philippe and was hella stacked, just a f*cking wall of muscle. So clearly he could only be a hooker, right? I did tell him that it hadn’t been my idea. I think he’s going for a beer, then coming back to talk to Jin. He made a point of wanting to talk to him about his hooker theory, so I’m sure he’ll be here any moment now. Actually, he didn’t seem very pleased about it. Oh, hey, I think that’s him coming this way,” said Yoongi, pointing at no specific place, watching Jin turn pale.
“Guys, I’m dead tired. Does anyone want to call it a night?” said Jin, faking a yawn and quickly scooting them toward the door.
~~~
Yoongi stuck to avoiding the topic of being really, really hung up on Jimin for the last month of therapy. It was hard, but he kept reminding himself that he was, after all, an athlete, a professional, someone who held in a lot of stuff. He put his f*cking game face on, like a f*cking pro. There were many times when he was very drunk and horribly tempted to just blab about it. Especially those times when Jimin was drunk and clingy and super touchy feely. Or those times when Jimin was drunk and his eyes closed slowly, then stayed closed a bit longer than they should, and then he’d open them and look straight into Yoongi’s soul. Jesus, those moments were hard. He was hard. He felt like a teenager all over again, where Jimin’s lightest graze of his arm made him get an instant erection.
Oh god, he wasn’t going to survive this.
“Yoongi hyung, are you okay? You’re really flushed! Do you need to go out for a bit? Maybe you need some fresh air?”
Sweet, innocent Jimin. What Yoongi needed was a cold shower and to lay off those pole dance videos. At this point, Yoongi knew what Jimin looked like when he pole danced, knew that he closed his eyes as he twirled on that pole, that he looked directly at the camera, eyes half closed, mouth parted, plush lips asking to be kissed. Then Yoongi remembered that those videos were for someone else, and he felt guilty for watching them over and over, and even worse for having touched himself that first time, even if he’d been drunk.
“Sorry to make you worry, Jimin-ah! I’m fine, just the alcohol went to my head. Maybe it’s time to head out. Hey, since next week is our last session, how about we celebrate with a bang?” Go big or go home, Yoongi said to himself.
“Oh, hyung, that sounds great! We should make it a big deal! Let’s make it an old fashioned dinner party, invite Coach Kim, and your friends, you talk about them so often I feel like I know them. Woo-jin can come but no cake for him, of course, and, oh, I bet Ah-rin would love to come! Oh, it will be great!”
Before Yoongi knew it, the whole thing had devolved into a party at Jimin’s and he was in charge of bringing samgyeopsal for 16. Also, why couldn’t Woo-jin have cake? Was he like some kind of fashion model or something? Honestly, he couldn’t f*cking stand the dude. So fine, he didn’t know him, but he sounded like a douche. Jimin could do so much better.
~~~
Yoongi had changed at least 12 times and he still wasn’t sure he had the right look. The tie and vest was too much, the leather pants were definitely too much, the jeans and T-shirt were too little, and that green suit would look amazing if he was headed to some fancy show but he didn’t want to look like he tried too hard… so here he was, trying way too hard in jeans, a T-shirt and a jacket on top to dress it up a bit. He hadn’t given his outfit this much thought since high school.
He gave the guys a call to see where everyone was at, only to find out they were running late already and they all still needed to drive by the restaurant to pick up the samgyeopsal. He chose to spend the next 15 minutes trying to chill his tit* down with some Epik High, thank you very f*cking much.
Finally, finally, he heard mad honking coming from Kook’s car and he went out to meet the boys.
“Aren’t we a fine looking bunch? You’d think we were idols,” said Taehyung.
“Are you kidding?The way we look tonight, we are bulletproof” added Kookie.
“Oh my god, Kookie, you’re a freaking genius! That would make an amazing song!”
Yoongi had to admit, they made a good-looking bunch, even if he didn’t think he was idol material.
Picking up the food they'd ordered didn't take long, and soon Kookie's GPS was telling them they were almost at their destination.
“Oh my gods, hyung you totally called it. Jimin has the apartment overlooking the Han. How much does a pole dancer make? Maybe I should ask him if I can become one” mused Taehyung after whistling in appreciation as they drove up to the apartment building.
“Jesus Christ, I swear if you embarrass me in front of Jimin I will personally cut off your balls with a can opener. He’s a physical therapist and he treats a lot of high profile athletes!”
“Harsh, hyung,” said Tae morosely, covering his privates with his hands.
Yoongi was seriously second-guessing his decision to bring them to the party, even if Jimin was expecting them to come. Maybe they should have met in a different setting. Like a coffee shop. Or a bar with really loud music so they could look pretty but Jimin couldn’t hear them.
“Guys, please, can you be on your best behavior? I never ask you for anything.”
“I get the feeling you’re ashamed of us,” said Jin, looking a bit hurt.
“Guys, you are my posse. You’re the wind beneath my wings, my best friends, my bros, and I love you to death. I’m proud to be your friend, seriously. All I’m asking is that you think twice before you say anything. Or ask anything. Or do anything. That’s all.”
Yoongi gave it a bit more thought, trying to make sure he’d covered all bases.
“Don’t worry, hyung, we’ll make you proud,” threw in Jungkook as he deftly parked the car across the street from Jimin’s apartment building.
They all got out of the car, picked up the samgyeopsal and the drinks from the trunk, then made their way to the door. After punching in the guest code Jimin had shared with Yoongi, they made their way to the elevator.
Yoongi felt increasingly nervous as they made their slow ascent. Christ, was it him or was this elevator slower than normal? Why was it so hot? He took a quick look at himself in the elevator mirror, fixed the collar of his jacket, then his hair, then took a couple of steadying breaths. The guys didn’t seem to notice any of this as they made their usual banter. Yoongi had this heartwarming feeling, suddenly happy to have them by his side. Whatever happened today, he knew they would be there for him.
It wasn’t too hard to find Jimin’s apartment, they simply followed the muffled sound of music down the hall. After an awkward moment where no one made a move to knock on the door, everyone went for it at once, then everyone retreated again,finally all eyes fell on Yoongi, seemingly designating him the official knocker.
The door opened to a bright-eyed Jimin, and Yoongi felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Christ, he was cute.
“Yoongi hyung, you made it! I’m so happy to see you, please come in! You must be Yoongi’s friends. It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Jimin said.
“Hey Jimin-ah, sorry we’re a little late. We had to swing by the restaurant for the food, then make a stop by the convenience store for the drinks.”
“Nah, no problem. We were working on finger food. I hope you like kimchi jumuk bap. They’re my specialty!”
“So, you like your balls spicy, huh?” mumbled Jin.
Yoongi threw him a murderous look, to which Jin silently mouthed, “who, moi?” with the most angelic of faces. Either Jimin didn’t catch on or he was too polite to comment.
“Jimin, this is Jin hyung, he’s the oldest of us all, and the most serious and responsible one. The one I count on to be the voice of reason,” said Yoongi, greatly exaggerating Jin’s actual position in the group in hopes of reminding him he was in fact the oldest and Yoongi expected better of him.
“This is Tae and this is Kookie, I’ve mentioned them a couple of times, I think?”
“More than a couple, and I can’t say I wasn’t curious,” replies Jimin as he stares at Kookie for a bit, as if trying to place him.
“JK, it’s you! Busan Junior Dance Festival, right? Wow, I can’t believe it, such a small world! Are you still dancing?”
“More than ever!” Kookie said, his huge smile rivaling the one on Jimin's face. “I actually became a choreographer. I never would have made it if it hadn’t been for you, hyung! I’m so glad I can thank you properly!” It was disgustingly adorable and Yoongi’s heart warmed at seeing his dongsaeng and Jimin having a moment.
“Now do me, now do me!” said Tae as he bounced on the balls of his feet from side to side.
Jimin stared at him for a bit, squinting and pressing his lips, as in deep thought.
“I’m sorry, have we met in person? I know you're the brand ambassador for Celine, but I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure,” replied Jimin.
Tae looked crestfallen, his infectious smile faltering for a moment before his usual enthusiasm lit it up again.
“We met at that club you used to dance at, it’s called Run. Don’t you remember me?” said Tae, looking hopeful.
Jimin looked back at Yoongi hoping for some sign of what to do, so Yoongi just motioned with his hands to go with it. Jimin smiled, then said, “Ah, sorry, of course, how could I forget!”
Taehyung had the decency to act like a normal person for 0.3 seconds before he threw himself at Jimin and clung to him like a monkey on a palm tree on a windy day. Jimin laughed, then hugged him back, so Tae hugged him harder.
“I suppose that makes me the only person here who hasn’t had the pleasure of making your acquaintance. To be fair, if we had met, it would probably mean I’ve defended you in court and I’d know all your dirty little secrets,” said Jin with a wink in his cordial, yet somehow threatening lawyer voice. “However, Yoongi has told us so much about you, I feel like I know you already!”
Yoongi was terrified of what was to come. Terrified. Jimin just laughed, though, clearly unaware of the horror that Kim Seokjin could bring.
“Come in, guys, make yourselves at home. You can put the drinks in the fridge and the food on the table, unless it needs reheating?” said Jimin as he escorted them through the apartment, pointing at the kitchen.
“It’s hot and ready, we picked it up less than 10 minutes ago,” replied Yoongi.
Jin mouthed ‘hot and ready’ as he waggled his eyebrows at him and made a lewd hip thrust, which Tae caught and almost laughed at, but covered up with a cough and cleared his throat.
Jimin turned around to look at Jin, clearly sensing something was going on, but Jin had already gone back to his usual angelic face.
It was going to be a long night and someone was going to end up defenestrated. Quite possibly Yoongi. Thrown by himself to end his misery.
~~~
Yoongi settled on a sofa, glass of whisky in his hand as he watched everyone around him. Although they’d arrived late, he could see people still trickling in. He knew Namjoon was coming at some point, after a meeting he had with the team’s General Manager. He wondered at what point Woo-jin would come. Mr. f*cking Sunshine. It hadn’t occurred to him that any form of PDA between Jimin and Woo-jin would potentially kill him, but now it was all he could think about and he was regretting coming to the party. Then again, he was tired of running away from his feelings. At this point, he knew manning up wasn’t even about Jimin, but more about himself. Despite the potentially disastrous ending, he was glad he got to know another side of himself, one that might make him happier in the end.
Yoongi looked at Jin engaged in full conversation with Jimin, who seemed absolutely enthralled by him. That’s what he loved about Jimin: his ability to connect with people, to care, to truly engage in a conversation and be real. Yoongi knew he was sh*t at all that himself and depended on the guys to parse his emotions.
Jimin got a phone call and walked out of the room to pick it up, which Jin took advantage of to run to Yoongi, an excited look on his face.
“OMJesus, he’s divine. I can totally see why you fell for him. So, what’s the plan? You do have a plan, right?” said Jin as he threw himself on the couch next to Yoongi.
“No plan. I’ll just find the right moment to pull him aside, tell him I have feelings for him, and make it crystal clear that our friendship is more important.”
“Well, you’re definitely right, that’s not a plan. I’m sorry, but how exactly will you bring up the topic? ‘Oh, by the way, Jimin, you made me gay, but that’s okay! Let’s be friends!’ Is this how it’s going to play out?”
When Jin said it, it did sound kind of sh*t, but Jin had the ability to make him second-guess himself a lot.
“So – not that I’m saying I’m receptive, but if I was, which I’m not – how would you go about it?” replied Yoongi, putting his best game face on.
“Look, this isn’t really any different to stating your case in court. Introduce the situation, explain your perspective, then refute any possible rebuttals, present your evidence, and offer closing arguments,” stated Jin as he enumerated each with a finger.
“Jin, we’re not in a court of law, what the f*ck…”
“No, hear me out! ‘Jimin, I feel like I owe you so much. You’ve given me my health back, and that’s priceless, but you’ve also allowed me to see a side of myself that I didn’t know. I’ve fallen in love with you, and I’m sure this may make you feel uncomfortable but I need you to know that you don’t need to reciprocate my feelings and it changes nothing between us. I just want to acknowledge it so we can put it behind us and keep being friends. As you’ve seen, I’ve been absolutely professional throughout my therapy and nothing but respectful during our dinners out, so I hope my honesty convinces you that I can be a friend and that I have no ulterior motives. I just wanted to get that out of the way. What do you say?’”
So that’s how Jin made the big bucks. And possibly how he got all that tail. Still, Yoongi couldn’t let Jin know he was impressed or he’d never hear the end of it.
“Jin-hyung, let’s get you another drink and leave the legal counsel for when you have to get Tae out of jail for indecent exposure. Again.”
Jimin walked into the room with a huge smile on his face, which Yoongi found irresistible yet a bit ominous. Had Woo-jin called him? If Mr. f*cking Sunshine could put a smile like that on his face, Yoongi really had no hope at all.
“Guys, prepare! The star of the show is on his way up! He might be a bit nervous because there’s a lot of people in the room, so avoid making loud noises or sudden movements until he’s settled a bit, alright? Thanks!”
What the f*ck is this guy’s deal, seriously, thought Yoongi, trying hard to avoid rolling his eyes and possibly (definitely) failing. f*cking snowflake.
A scarce couple of minutes later, the “star” of the show walked in, practically bouncing on his heels, with a furry, adorable dog in his arms. Yoongi had to admit he was a beautiful bastard. The man, not the dog. Well, he had to admit the dog was beautiful too.
As soon as the dog saw Jimin, it scrambled its short, stubby legs to try to jump out of Mr. Sunshine’s arms, at which point Jimin stretched his arms while cooing at it to pick it up. The scene was truly touching, especially if Yoongi closed his left eye to leave Mr. Sunshine out of his field of vision..
“Oh my baby, how papa missed you. Are you okay, my darling?” Jimin said as he tried to avoid the squirming dog from licking him in the mouth and failing.
Woo-f*cking-jin had the audacity to walk straight up to Yoongi, stretching out his hand to greet him.
“You must be Yoongi, I’ve heard so much about you!” said the man, smiling widely.
“I’d like to say the same, but I honestly haven’t heard much about you,” replied Yoongi in what was decidedly an asshole move, though he guessed it wasn’t actually untrue. He didn’t know much about him at all.
“I’m not surprised, Jimin is a very private person. My name’s Jung Hoseok, but everyone calls me Hobi. Jimin and I met a long time ago through dance.”
Wait. What? Then who the f*ck is Woo-jin, thought Yoongi, without realizing he’d said it out loud.
“Oh, Woo-jin is Jimin’s dog. Sadly, this building won’t allow pets, so I’m keeping him until Minie’s rental contract expires. It’s been hard on them both. I mean, look at them, you can’t pry those two apart,” said Hobi, pointing at the decidedly touching scene of a man and his dog. “I guess you could say I’m Woo-jin’s papa from another appa,” said Ho-seok, laughing at his own joke.
Yoongi’s brain was working overtime, going a mile a second, trying to remember the exact conversation he’d had with Jimin that would make him think Hoseok was Jimin’s significant other.
Jimin had called Woo-jin his honey. Woo-jin. He’d said nothing about anyone else. Which meant… Jimin could potentially be single. He could also still be dating Mr. f*cking Sunshine. Yoongi should probably stop calling him that.
But.
This meant he had a chance. He needed to talk to Jimin right now.
Yoongi quickly excused himself and walked towards Jimin as fast as possible without looking desperate.
“Jimin, hey, can we talk?” said Yoongi hurriedly.
Jimin turned to look at him, pushing Woo-jin away from his face to look at Yoongi. As Yoongi got closer, the dog tried to jump toward him, so Yoongi did the obvious thing a dog lover would do and automatically stretched out his hands to catch him. The dog landed in his arms and immediately went for his mouth, taking long strokes of his tongue to cover as much surface as possible. Yoongi was too charmed by him to be bothered, laughing as he tried to avoid the dog’s avid tongue.
“Is this the dog you thought might be overwhelmed by all the people?” asked Yoongi in between doggie licks.
“I don’t think he’s ever seen this many people in a small room, so I didn’t know how he’d react. He seems to love you, Yoongi hyung!”
Once Woo-jin calmed down, he allowed himself to be turned upside down for belly pats, and Yoongi thought maybe it was safe to move to the sofa.
“Listen, Jimin-ah, I need to ask you something. Could we sit down?”
“What is it, Yoongi? You sound serious, you’re scaring me. Are you breaking up with me?” he asked, looking at him coyly through his lashes, pout full on before laughing.
“If you were mine, I wouldn’t break up with you. Are you someone’s, Jimin?”
“As far as I know, only Woo-jin owns my heart,” said Jimin, looking straight at him, no longer laughing. “What are you trying to say?”
“Jimin-ah, I’m an idiot. I have no idea what I’m doing,” started Yoongi as he moved closer. Woo-jin yelped as he got squished in between them both.
“sh*t, I’m sorry, Woo-jin. See, I’m clueless! Even Woo-jin has an opinion on my sh*t skills at whatever it is I’m trying here!”
“Hyung, relax, give me the dog,” said Jimin as he took Woo-jin off his hands gently. “Baby, daddy is going to put you down. Can you be a good boy and run to Hobi?”
Woo-jin’s tiny legs were raring before they even touched the floor, dashing straight off to Hobi, then bouncing on its hind legs once he got there to catch his attention. Hobi smiled warmly at the pup, picked him up and cradled him in his arms.
“Hyung?” asked Jimin, lightly tapping him on the shoulder.
In Yoongi’s mind, the conversation went like this:
“Jimin, I don’t know what I am. Actually, I don’t know who I am anymore, I think. But I know who you are to me. I’m so attracted to you, and I think there’s more to it. No, I know there’s more to it but I don’t know what this makes us. You’ve helped me get my career back, but you’ve also been such a good friend. You’ve made me open up. I’m sorry, it took me forever, I’m so sorry. You mean so much to me and I’ve been such an idiot.”
“Why did you wait so long? Don’t you know I’m a catch?” teased Jimin, his eyes betraying a bit of insecurity despite making a joke.
“I’ve been going crazy since I saw you with Hobi. I was so f*cking jealous! I thought you were calling him your baby. No, I’ve been off my rocker for a while. And you’re so hot. God, I can’t stop thinking of you. Jesus, those pole dancing videos have been torture,” went on Yoongi.
“Yoongi, I have a confession to make. Ever since you popped into my office, I’ve been fighting the urge to get into those tiny pole briefs you were wearing. Do you have any idea how hot you are? It was so unprofessional but you kept me up at night, it was killing me. I got all the right vibes but you seemed to only want to be friends. So yeah, I absolutely gave you the pole videos hoping I wasn’t wrong about you. I’m sorry, it was a dirty move, but I was desperate.”
In reality, though, there was no way Yoongi would ever be that smooth and articulate in front of Jimin, no matter how hard he tried, so of course what he did instead was blurt out, "I think I'm gay for you."
Yoongi saw Jimin's eyes widen in surprise for only a second before his lips curled in a confident smirk.
"And here I thought I'd have to content myself with remembering the hopefully-dates we’ve been on and the alluring pole dancing moves I sprinkled into your sessions."
Yoongi blinked as he tried to process the fact that Jimin had apparently wanted their are-they-dates-or-hangouts to be actual dates, too, and had also been ogling him during his physical therapy, when Jimin's face turned slightly panicked.
"Not that they weren't good PT as well! I would never risk your injury recovery, I take my job very seriously and the exercises were still part of your therapy plan. Just, you know, with some eyecandy flair on top. And I would have switched them back to their basic form if you'd looked at all uncomfortable."
Jimin was biting his lip and Yoongi didn't know how to deal with this sexy-cute duality Jimin had going on. So he just thought f*ck all this overthinking and said, "Maybe you can teach me some more moves, then."
Jimin's expression brightened again and he stepped closer to Yoongi so he could run his fingers over Yoongi's chest, touch feather-light. "Yeah? You're up for some more hands-on instruction? You gonna put up a show for me?"
It suddenly occurred to Yoongi how utterly f*cked he was. A guy with Jimin’s looks, talent, and an evil mastermind brain who could go from cute angel to sexy demon in a millisecond would certainly be the death of him. He couldn’t wait.
“So, what now?” asked Yoongi.
“Well, I’d like to start with kissing, then maybe some heavy petting before we –”
“Stop, stop! Jimin-ah!” said Yoongi a bit too loudly, earning him the attention of several people in the party. “Maybe we should take it somewhere else?” he whispered.
“You mean like somewhere more private so we can fool around? I like how you’re thinking,” murmured Jimin in his ear before grabbing him by the hand to drag him to what Yoongi presumed was his bedroom.
As soon as they made it in, Jimin kicked the door with his foot and pushed Yoongi against it, a marked contrast with the tenderness with which he was touching his cheek, like he was trying to confirm Yoongi was indeed there. He moved in to kiss him, then stopped halfway.
“Are you okay with this? Is this too fast for you?” he asked. Yoongi looked at Jimin, his soft features clear with the pale light coming in from the window.
Yoongi gave it a bit of thought. Yes, it was all definitely going too fast, but he wanted this badly. Yoongi surprised himself by closing the space between them, pressing his lips against Jimin’s briefly, then grabbing him by the nape of the neck to kiss him more firmly. Judging by Jimin’s gasp, he wasn’t the only one who was surprised, but he melted into the kiss, grabbing Yoongi by the hips and pulling him closer.
Yoongi could feel Jimin’s dick, which oh, hello, that was new, but definitely not unpleasant. He wondered once again if he’d been into men all along, then his Jimin’s hands on his chest pulled him back to the present and he shelved that for later. Maybe never. Once Jimin gently pried Yoongi’s mouth open and tongues were involved, he leaned a lot more strongly toward never. He didn’t need all the answers, just more of whatever they had going, especially right now.
By the time they separated, they were breathing heavily into each other, foreheads touching.
“How far do you want to take this?” asked Jimin.
“Wait, just like that? Won’t everyone out there miss us? I mean, it’s your party,” Yoongi said, pointing with his thumb in the direction of the door. “Actually, I’m not entirely convinced my whole crew isn’t standing behind the door.” Yoongi half-expected Tae to reply from the other side of the door that he was offended by that remark.
“Nah, they’re all having fun. Probably heating up the food, we’re golden,” replied Jimin, putting one hand around his neck and bringing him close for another kiss. They made out for a couple of minutes, breath mingling as they separated.
“How comfortable would you be with a blow j*b? I’ve highkey wanted to get my mouth on you for ages,” whispered Jimin.
“God, yes. I promise I’ll be quiet,” said Yoongi a bit breathlessly.
“Oh I assure you, you won’t be,” replied Jimin, snaking a hand down from Yoongi’s chest to the button of his jeans. Yoongi missed his mouth already, but he was too winded to say anything.
Jimin slid the zipper down, then sank to his knees, looking at him with hooded eyes. f*ck, he was gorgeous. Yoongi was pretty sure he had never been this hard this fast before and was half afraid he’d just ji*zz on first contact, so he tried to think of sad things to rein it in, but any dark moment he could think of led him to picture how Jimin could've made it better and made him smile.
He felt Jimin take him out of his underwear and stroke him a couple of times before putting his dick in his mouth. Somehow, it didn’t make him feel horny or awkward, or whatever he thought he’d feel. Instead, he felt a rush of tenderness, so he stretched out his hand to gently rake Jimin’s hair. The second Jimin rolled his tongue around the tip, though, the horniness was back full on. Yoongi groaned, then Jimin groaned, which made Yoongi groan again.
He noticed he was grabbing onto Jimin’s hair, so he forced himself to let go of it to gently comb through it, then moved his thumb to Jimin’s cheek, rubbing gently along his cheekbone. Jimin stared up at him and rolled his tongue around him again before taking him in deeper, and Yoongi lost his train of thought once more, simply riding the high of Jimin sucking him farther down. f*ck, he was good at this.
He felt Jimin grab his ass and push him farther down his throat and Yoongi moaned loudly and leaned his head back, breaking eye contact and accidentally banging his head on the door, then suddenly felt Jimin’s mouth leaving him.
“Babe, you okay?” asked Jimin, forcing Yoongi to look down at him again as Jimin stroked him.
“Yeah, f*ck, I’m okay, just let me, uh. Oh god,” replied Yoongi, almost losing it between Jimin calling him babe and feeling him pump his dick, and looking at him with those f*ck-me eyes. God, Yoongi really wanted to f*ck him.
Jimin’s hand slid up along his thighs, then lightly grazed his ass as he came back up to eye level, moving up to his lower back to rub slow circles there and making him break out in goosebumps. Yoongi wouldn’t have said he was oversensitive, but here he was, about to come on Jimin’s fancy jeans. He was so f*cking gone on this guy.
Something something I suck at p*rn
Yoongi surged forward to capture Jimin’s lips with his own. He could taste himself faintly as he licked inside, and while it was nothing he hadn’t experienced before, this was Jimin’s mouth he was tasting himself on, Jimin’s hand squeezing around his aching dick, and Yoongi couldn’t hold back an honest to god whimper.
That made Jimin gasp and pull back and no, no, why was Jimin’s mouth leaving his? Yoongi followed, trying to resume the kiss, but Jimin’s firm hand against his collarbone pushed him back against the door. Yoongi blinked open dazed eyes only to meet Jimin’s intense stare.
“God,” said Jimin, and the hunger burning in his eyes almost made Yoongi whimper again. He felt Jimin’s hand fisting the front of his shirt to pull him forward, crashing into another kiss before he was hastily turned around and guided until his legs hit the bed and he was pushed back onto it.
As Yoongi leaned back on his elbows, he could practically feel Jimin’s gaze as a physical touch running all over Yoongi’s disheveled body, from his messy hair to his pants bunched around his thighs. He saw Jimin lick his f*cking lips when his eyes settled on Yoongi’s still exposed dick, and he thought he might actually, literally die.
“Jimin-ah,” Yoongi said, or tried to say but with how dry his throat was it was more of a croak. Jimin didn’t seem to mind, though; as his eyes snapped back up to meet Yoongi’s, the fire there hadn’t subsided one bit.
“God,” Jimin repeated as he moved forward to place his knees on the bed, straddling Yoongi so confidently as his hands pushed him back to lie down, “I'm going to f*cking wreck you, baby.”
Yoongi didn’t have time to reply before Jimin’s mouth was back on his, teeth clasping onto his bottom lip not-too-gently, but that was okay, because he had no clue what he’d have said anyway; the only words running through his mind were Jimin, yes, finally, yes.
Yes.
~~~
Yoongi wanted to say he was a bit embarrassed about fooling around in a bedroom during a party, like a teenager, but he left that bedroom feeling lighter than he had in ages. He kept giving Jimin a side glance every now and then as they made it back to the living room, not quite believing they were a thing now. He was a lucky man.
The samgyeopsal was gone, as he feared, and so was pretty much everything else. These guys were hyenas. Yoongi stared at the sad bowl of peanuts and the cheese and crackers.
“I can’t believe you didn’t leave us any food, guys!” griped Yoongi, pointing at the empty containers of food. “What are we supposed to have for dinner?”
“You just confessed your love for Jimin! You’re full of love. Or come. Or both, I guess,” said Tae. “Wait, who topped? Maybe Jimin is full of come. And love.”
“Oh my god, just f*cking shut up,” said Yoongi, flushing wildly as he looked at Jimin only to find him smirking at Taehyung.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Jimin said as he curled his arm around Yoongi’s waist, causing Tae to squeal in happiness and Yoongi’s blush to intensify.
“I can make some kimchi fried rice, if you want,” said coach Kim, making Yoongi do a double take because he hadn’t even seen the man arrive. Although they were close and often hung out, it was still awkward to see his coach in a friends gathering.
“Don’t let him near a stove, he’ll burn the house down, stab himself, or trip and break a leg. Possibly all three,” said Hobi.
“Wait, you know each other?” asked Yoongi.
Hobi looked at Namjoon and raised an eyebrow, which made Namjoon flush and clear his throat.
“Yoongi, this is my boyfriend, Hobi. We’ve been dating for about two years. In fact, that’s how I first found out about pole therapy. Hobi told me all about it,” explained Namjoon. “To be honest, my sexuality isn’t something I usually discuss with people but I also wasn’t hiding it. It just never occurred to me to mention it, I guess. I mean, we usually talk about sports or music, so the topic never came up.”
“He calls me his sunshine,” gushed Hobi.
“I also call you a terror,” added Namjoon.
“Namjoon is the god of destruction,” threw in Hobi with a sunny smile that was somehow terrifying.
“Well, this will take all night,” said Jimin discreetly in Yoongi’s ear. “Those two are pretty much married.”
~~~
By the time they followed the last stragglers out of Jimin’s apartment, Jin, Tae, and Kookie were oddly discreet about Yoongi staying behind. As Jimin and Yoongi did the dishes after eating the sad leftovers, it occurred to Yoongi that he’d been a dick to Hobi and he should probably apologize. Yoongi considered telling Jimin the whole story.
“Did I tell you I thought you were dating Hobi? I was pretty sure you called him your baby,” murmured Yoongi.
“You sort of did. I mean, Hobi? Seriously? Well, I guess anyone could get that impression, he’s so cheerful and touchy feely. You know you’re my only baby, right? No need to be jealous,” said Jimin with a warm smile.
“I’m pretty sure you called Woo-jin your baby,” replied Yoongi, sounding considerably more jealous of a dog than a grown man should.
“I promise, you’re my one and only. I don’t think I could stand all that sunshine,” said Jimin.
“Oh my god, it isn’t just me, right? How is he so cheerful?” whined Yoongi.
“Hey, for all you know, I’ll wake up oozing sunshine like that. Will you put up with me?” asked Jimin, throwing him a wink.
“I can’t wait to see what you’re like when you wake up,” said Yoongi gently, unable to stop his feelings from coloring his voice, causing Jimin's smile to soften.
“Want to go to bed and find out?” asked Jimin, holding out a hand, which Yoongi was quick to grab.
“I thought you’d never ask,” answered Yoongi, letting Jimin lead him to the bedroom.
“I thought you’d never ask,” answered Yoongi, letting Jimin lead him to the bedroom.
