Yaoi Shots (Boyxboy)

Eternity (Yoonmin)

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ArchiveOfYourOwn
User: SheepJimin
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Summary

Yoongi wakes up every night in a cold sweat, scrambles around for those few seconds until his fingers find the warmth of the person beside him. He breathes a sigh of relief; of course, it's a dream. There's no way he'd ever lose Jimin, right? (Wrong.)
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Yoongi fell for Jimin slowly, oh so slowly, but it was a hard fall nonetheless. And Jimin never once made it hard to love him, with his ringing laugh, his smile that could light up the night sky and make Yoongi forget himself, his soft lips that turned red and puffy when they got too eager, his easy going manner... Yoongi had never been able to find any faults with him because Jimin had always been an odd sort of perfect. From the beginning, the very first moment their eyes met, Yoongi had known, known then that he was thoroughly screwed.

"You're sitting in my seat."

Yoongi hears the pout the stranger's voice, but doesn't look up from his papers, scattered across the café counter, continuing to scrawl lyrics before angrily scratching them out again. None of this sounds like what he wants and his frustration is rapidly pooling around him; the deadline's soon and he's still got nothing—well, no, that's not true. He's got one thing and that's a sulking brat reading over his shoulder and stealing his sunlight. Even if it is somebody's usual spot, it's a free country, it's not his coffee shop and Yoongi picked it for the lighting—which has conveniently disappeared.

"Do you mind?" Yoongi asks slowly, glaring instead into his coffee cup; he aggressively sips at it, hoping the stranger will take the hint and move out of the light—he can already feel himself getting cold again.

"This is depressing," the stranger remarks instead, pawing through the papers and Yoongi finally looks up.

A boy—because his face is far too young looking to be called a man—with soft hair and fair skin reads over the papers thoughtfully, thin pretty fingers brushing delicately across the page. It's winter—hence Yoongi's annoyance at the other blocking his rare sunlight (he'd been sunbathing sleepily)—and Yoongi's eyes drift across the individual stitches of a rather soft looking sweater before coming to rest on the other's face. He's concentrated on reading through the lyrics and Yoongi's surprised. Is he actually interested? It's been a while since anybody's given a shit about Yoongi (himself included), let alone his work, so it's a foreign feeling indeed. But he's not looking for company, really.

Yoongi finds himself looking into the other's eyes quite suddenly and he barely keeps himself from choking. Dark eyes stare back at him from behind long lashes and Yoongi knows without a doubt that he's fucked because those are the most beautiful eyes he's ever seen. His gaze drops slowly down to plush pink lips and he's too busy watching to hear what they're saying until the boy snaps his fingers, jerking Yoongi out of his thoughts. There's a curious smile and Yoongi tells himself it's not the reason his heart seems to stutter (it is).

"Are you okay?" It's a joking question and Yoongi knows he's supposed to answer in kind, a smirk with a casual reply. He tries, but that's not what comes out.

"Not really."

The words escape him before he can stop them and Yoongi bites his lip. Acing the art of conversation from the start. It startles the other boy just as much as it surprises Yoongi and he frowns before tentatively reaching out. Yoongi's about to draw back—doesn't like contact, never liked contact—but a hand (soft, so soft) runs over his; it's gentle, as if he's afraid Yoongi will crack if he's too forceful, and Yoongi can't bring himself to pull away.