Set Me Free | Yoonmin

1

Yoongi sees Jimin sneak into his room, the small crack of light peaking past the frame of the door and small sniffles the only things detailing his presence, but as his shadow tentatively turns towards him, Yoongi can't halt his arms reaching for him.

"Jimin-ah," he begins, his breath no more than the hushed whispers of winter's breeze. "You'll tell hyung what's wrong, won't you?"

And Jimin lets himself be held, salted tears leaving their stain down his cheeks as what hold his teeth have against his lip remains futile at curbing what shiver seems to engulf him.

"M'lonely." He mumbles, cotton sleeves pulled taut over whitened knuckles.

"How so?" Yoongi perhaps knows he shouldn't pry, but Jimin has never been one to shy away from him.

"H-have you ever kissed someone before?" Jimin asks with words all but broken, and as Yoongi mumbles a small response followed by a nod— barely visible in what dim light all but shrouds them— Jimin can't quite bite down what whimper tumbles. But he continues, eyes never meeting Yoongi's own which are woven with uncertainty and the wish for the man he holds in his arms to once more find that smile he has so ardently come to adore.

"Did it feel nice?" What loose thread has found its way into his tender grasp is rolled in rhythm, soothing and affirming letting his mind ease enough for breaths to fall that little more steady.

"It was, kissing is nice. What's this all about, Jimin-ah? Are you hurt?"

Jimin shakes his head, strands tumbling against his crimson-blotched cheeks, tear-stained and warm beneath his touch.

"I-I just realised," he managed, a deep inhale parting his words. "I've never been kissed."

Silence settles between them for a moment, little more than hushed breaths piercing what air lines their skin, and as Yoongi dares to move, he feels Jimin tense in his hold.

"There's no rush to. You don't have to have been kissed by now." He soothes, but they're words Jimin doesn't quite need to hear. They're words he's been told until they're all that settle in his mind, such as silvered strands, ones glimmering with hope but that hope never finds its resolution.

"Is it bothering you?" Yoongi continues, fingers feather-light as he tucks a small strand behind his ear. "Is it bothering you that you've never been kissed?"

And as Jimin nods, Yoongi can't quite place what erupts within— what courses his veins in a smouldering heat. As if fireworks dazzling in technicolour, the first fall of snow leaving cheeks aching beneath the weight of smiles, and whilst he knows it could never mean what he wishes for it to, but he wonders just if it ever could. It's a thin wire— footsteps one inch from tumbling over the edge— but he'll sacrifice his own heart if it means Jimin's remains whole, he thinks.

"Would you like that to change?" Yoongi whispers, voice honeyed and deep.

"Yes. What if I'm bad at it— what if I find someone who wants me and I've never..." He falls quiet, Yoongi's silent assurance enough for the words to rebuild against his tongue. "I've never kissed anyone. What if they won't want me because I've never kissed?"

"They wouldn't think that, Jimin-ah, they'll love you for who you are." And Yoongi tries to let each syllable fall without intention— without the ache that he harbours that love.

"Y-you can say no," Jimin begins, tongue stumbling over each sound. "But would you? Kiss me? To try."

"Would you want me to?" And whilst Yoongi knows his own answer— one that he's perhaps always wished for— he knows that he's simply the only person available to hear Jimin's words. Jimin could never love him, it's a fact he's resigned himself to over years of pining, but if Jimin trusts him with what he has so often longed for, how could he ever deny him?