WHEN HE SEES ME | MYG + PJM

eight.

eight.

yoongi.
6:54 pm

min yoongi has never liked the way the left side of his bed looks: empty, cold, untouched. he longs for the presence of another soul to lie next to him in the nights when he lays down to sleep and in the morning when his eyes flutter open.

although he wishes for the position to be filled my someone someday, yoongi know it needs to be the right someone. he imagines a bare back next to him, man or woman, one he can hold onto without ever wanting to let go. they must be gentle to balance yoongi's abrasive personality, and strong enough to hold him when he crashes. they must be a dam sturdy enough to brave the crash the wave of yoongi's emotions and habits. they should hold him softly and love loudly. but they should be his muse, too.

he's looked for these qualities since he was eighteen, tried to find the person he would marry in ever face he's seen. he's searched for their soul in every song he's ever written and imagined their heart beat in every score ever composed. yoongi is secretly hoping that just maybe it's jimin.

it's a few days after their five-hour phone call, and yoongi has been cleaning his apartment for three hours prior to jimin's near-arrival. he's swept twice, mopped the floor twice, fluffed the pillows four times, organized the silverware twice, and checked the time twenty-four times. yoongi really likes the number two.

the hopeless romantic arranges some snacks on the coffee table for the two to munch on while they binge on jimin's favorite movies. yoongi's blond friend arrives at seven pm on the dot. he greets him with a hug; he feels his heartbeat against his chest, his fingers that brush down his spine nervously, and the apples of his cheeks that rise when they immerse themselves in each other.

yoongi lets his touch linger on jimin. he pulls away first, scared to overwhelm the boy with lemonade locks and chocolate eyes. jimin is gentle. his arms are the ocean that rocks you slowly, his smile is its current that pulls you in, and his eyes are the waves that drown you.

"hey, how was work?" yoongi asks as he leads jimin to the couch. he still can't believe jimin agreed to come over.

"oh, you know same as always," the younger replies. "you've got a really nice place, by the way. it's spotless."

yoongi lives on the other side of the city from jimin. his job pays well, and he can tell.

"thank you," yoongi says. "oh do you drink, jimin?" he goes through the cabinets trying to find something.

"what do you have?"

"wine. red. it's called uh... botter riserva della casa rosso molise?" he tries to pronounce. it doesn't quite land right, but jimin thinks it's cute.

"well then yes, i drink."

yoongi returns to the couch with the bottle and two glasses. they settle in, both at opposite sides of the couch as they face the screen.

both men's heads are beating out of their chests. jimin wants to be closer, even if he won't admit it to either himself or yoongi, and the ebony haired man is scared he's already too close. jimin can't even focus on his favorite movie with yoongi so close.

he and yoongi talk constantly throughout the movie. jimin grows more giddy with each sip of wine he has; he's not completely drunk, nor sober, just a happy medium. the blond man lets his desires take over and he leans into yoongi, letting himself savor the warmth of his body and the way his cologne smells too.

the music producer lets it happen, knowing damn well jimin doesn't even reciprocate yoongi's interest. but he lets himself have that initial thought when jimin melts at his side: "you're going to ruin me."