Bully || Yoonmin

Chapter 12

-Yoongi Focus-

Yoongi lay facing the ceiling in his warm, comfortable bed in the middle of the night. His digital clock showing in choppy, red, blinking numbers that it was 4:52.

Fuck. He though as he dragged down a heavy hand over the pudges of his face- unable to get his eyes to just fuckin' close already god damnit. Sleep!

When he realized it was pointless, he started  skimming over all three of the most important questions that'd been slingshotting around his head the past year and a half almost;

1. Why the fuck was he still here?
2.When the fuck would he get some god damn sleep again?
3.And where the fuck was his Park Jimin?

The last one aside...the problem here was that he had school tomorrow and didn't want to be walking around with a permanent 'sour milk' face- as Jackson called it- the first day of his senior year.
He'd gotten his class schedule yesterday and thought to himself that maybe this year might not be too bad.

The past year had been dreadfully slow. Every time he found himself in any of his classes- more especially his physics sixth period- he'd stare at the empty seat, now filled up by a transfer student from America named Vernon while he tried to flirt in his- actually pretty decent- Korean with the class representative, Seungkwan.

Yoongi tossed and turned until he found a relatively comfortable spot on his bed and glanced back at his clock.

4:56. Serious?

The days went by dimmer and slower than before. He'd walk out the gates in his way back home- now past the stage of denial where he'd be caught staring at the spot he and Jimin has interacted last- and at the acceptance stage where he only wallowed in his self hatred and accepted that he was probably the biggest piece of shit on the planet.
Sometimes in his other classes he'd fall asleep and wake up with drool covering half his face and the majority of the class moved to their next period. He had no reason to pay attention to time now that he didn't have to rush to class and meet his little brunet punching bag.

He hated school. Hated how every corner was marked by the memory of that silent rebellious look that the kid never acted on. Every hallway stained with the image of him crawling on the floor for his things while he was passed like a freshly lit joint from bully to bully.
Sometimes he catch sight of the side of an incoming freshman with legs for days and would startle, holding it'd be Jimin.
Only it never would be.

He'd thought he'd seen him walking on the streets several times, but every time he checked it was never his dorky, defenseless Jimin.
One incidence he'd sworn to god he'd seen someone who looked exactly like him but more impossibly well built- too tall and confident and orange to be Jimin.

Yoongi groaned, getting up from his comfortable bed, his newly dyed stark black hair an absolute mess. He groaned, sighing down at his painful morning wood and decided a cold shower would do well to wake him up and take his mind off of the pouty lips and soft upside down crescent eyes he missed so dearly.

While stripping of his clothes he hissed, not only from the cold but because damn he was hard. Pouty lips and small smooth hands edging up his-

Nope. Nope. Nope.
Yoongi shook his head and pulled hard at his hair- which honestly didn't help his problem- and groaned. He flung off the rest of his clothing and climbed in, jaw clenched and hands folded behind him with his eyes snapped closed as he waited for his body to calm down. He looked in the mirror; cheeks pink and small patches of flush spread across his thin, pale thighs and over the first few dips of the skin under his neck.
He sighed, resting his head against the chilled white tile. His dick was still twitching and only half flaccid so he gave himself time to chill by rubbing the soft, clear soap into his scalp.