Archive of Our Own

The best part of watching his parents run their business into the ground as a result of a beautiful blend of ineffective leadership, zero cost control, and a lack of long-lasting value, was being pulled out of his private school and having to enroll in a small, local public school.

Because why would you save on raw material purchases for an insolvent company when you cheap out on your children’s education?

Though he was unsure of how, it probably made sense in some fiscal way that Yoongi didn’t understand. Either way, it wasn’t like that made him less upset as he approached the gate of his new school, met by Hoseok who was waving at him with just a tad too much fervor.

“Yoongi-hyung!” He grimaced in return, raising his hand in acknowledgement as he made his way towards him, hands tucked back into his jacket. It had been a while since he’d last seen Hoseok and it almost made him forget about his loud nature, but as it turned out his friends were even louder and more obnoxious than Hoseok himself – which he didn’t know was possible. And what was even more astonishing was the fact that they weren’t even the rowdiest people in the school.

No, there was this group of three who made enough noise for the entirety of their year, and it was during lunch that their intolerable behavior reached an absolute maximum.

If Yoongi thought screaming in the hallways was the most annoying thing he’d witness that boy, he stood corrected as he watched one of the boys, the black-haired one, slam his flat hand down on the table as he cackled at something his blond friend whispered his tone shrill and voice squeaky, verging on the edge of offensive.

“Why are they so fucking loud?” he complained to Hoseok, his sandwich only half-eaten as he slammed his lunch box shut and tucked it into his backpack. “Who do they think they are?”

That kind of behavior wouldn’t have been tolerated at his old school, but even after half a day, he came to notice that these teachers weren’t the most involved. Therefore, it didn’t surprise him that no one went up to the table to tell the rowdy boys to shut it.

Both Namjoon, a tall and kind friend of Hoseok’s, and Seok himself turn around at his complaints, as if they hadn’t even noticed the noise. Maybe they really didn’t; all the students seem to be quite accustomed to the trio seated behind them.

“They’re the Pretty Boys,” Jeongguk said without needing to look. There was a charged silence as his eyes went from face to face, gauging them. Jeongguk took a sip of his juice, Hoseok scrolled through his phone, Namjoon took another bite from his sandwich. 

And none of them laughed as Yoongi was expecting them to. “…you're joking?”

“Nope. It’s a real thing,” the youngest went on to explain. “I don't know if you can really call them a gang or whatever, but that's what they call themselves.” He sounded a bit shy, and his cheeks even looked a bit pink as he finally looked over his shoulder to peek at the three boys.

“A gang? What goes on in this fucking town,” Yoongi laughed as he eyed them once more. At least their name was fitting – from their colored hair, to their faces and their coordinated outfits, everything about them was pretty.

“It isn’t like the ones you see on tv, though,” Hoseok explained, nudging Guk to tease him for his flushed cheeks.

The other pushed back in response. “They’re not violent or anything.”

“They’re really nice kids, actually,” Namjoon interjected, running a hand through his dark hair. “I had a music class with the blonde.” Yoongi looked over once more, focusing on said boy.

Though he had his back turned to their table, Yoongi could tell he was dressed in baby blue two-piece. It suited his golden skin well, and he imagined his face was just as cute. Maybe he was wearing makeup to match with his pretty outfit.

He certainly looked like the type, and they had the confidence to pull it off.

“Then what do they do?” Hoseok shrugged, disinterested in the topic at hand. The other two seemed a lot more engrossed, Yoongi noted, as they continued sneaking glances.

“Exactly what their name suggests. They just sit around and look pretty.”

Yoongi huffed at that. Although it made sense, he couldn’t understand how someone could be self-centered and shallow enough to start a friend group solely based on appearance.

“And act like spoiled little shits, too,” Hoseok added as an afterthought, receiving a slap on the thigh from Joon.

“That's fucking ridiculous,” Yoongi laughed, though he couldn’t deny being intrigued by the giggly trio.

At least they were entertaining, unlike the rest of that bland school. “How can you, like, get in?”

“Interested?”

Yoongi flushed at the teasing words, looking away from the other table, “shut up.”

“They approach whoever they deem pretty enough.” The way Jeongguk said it, made it sound as if it was something obvious. Yoongi blinked at him, wondering how the hell he ended up in such a place. “They had their eye on Hoseok, a few years ago.”

“Why didn’t you join?” He then asked, laughing and kicking his feet under the table. Hoseok didn’t seem all too bothered as he raised his shoulders and dropped them down again.  

“I’m not gonna lie, I was flattered.” Yoongi rolled his eyes at that, and Namjoon snorted.

Of course Hoseok would be interested, with his ‘you have to try everything once’-outlook on life. “But then Blossom gave me these awful pink boots as an initiation gift and that’s where I drew the line.”

Again, Yoongi could only blink and huff, his lips parted as he snuck another glance at the table of three. “I wish I was joking.”

“When they were initiating Bubbles, they made him wear this tiny, white tennis skirt for a week,” Namjoon said and Yoongi gulped at the mere idea. He was sure the light color looked gorgeous in combination with his tan legs.

“You wouldn’t have survived a day, hyung.”

“What the fuck are you implying?” Yoongi spluttered, averting his gaze with red cheeks.

Then, it was Hoseok’s turn to smirk, “That you’d be drooling even harder than you have been for the past hour.”

“I haven’t been–!” Yoongi’s hushed shout of rebuttal was cut short by a plate being slammed down next to him. He looked up with wide eyes, only to come face to face with the cute boy dressed in blue.

And that was when Yoongi realized just how screwed he was.

“Hi, hyungs!” he smiled, his cute button nose scrunched and his teeth perfectly straight. His eyes were dark and puppy-like, his cheeks full and jaw sharp. Yet what enticed Yoongi the most were his pouty, pink-stained lips.

Yeah, he was thoroughly screwed.

“Hey, Bub,” Jeongguk greeted in return, sheepish, even when said boy snatched his banana milk and took a long sip. It was as if the younger was mesmerized by the presence of the lovely blonde. Yoongi couldn’t blame him. He looked radiant and dauntingly gorgeous, so much so that Yoongi briefly forgot about his lack of manners.

“Are you not going to introduce me to your friend, Jeonggukie?” He patted his dark hair as he spoke, his touch delicate.

“As if he doesn't already know who you are, Bub,” Hoseok huffed instead of his friend, receiving a cocked eyebrow. For someone with that big of an attitude, he surely didn’t seem to enjoy being on the receiving end of it.

“Yoongi,” he said, ignoring the quirk of Bubbles' lips at the sound of his voice. He sunk into the seat next to Yoongi, leaning close to his body and eyeing him up without much shame.

“Bubbles.” His voice was deeper now, more sultry. It was obvious that he was curious to know more about the new student. Yoongi felt hot under his pointed gaze, his fingers fidgeting under the table.

“So, do you have an actual name, or?” He sounded more indifferent than he’d intended, but the other didn’t seem to mind much.

“Take me out for a drink and find out,” the boy replied with a conceited smile and Yoongi couldn’t believe his audacity. All the other knew about him was his name and yet here he was, lobbying for a date.

Yoongi barked out a laugh, and just like that, the boy’s barely-there smile vanished, making place for a soft pout. “Are you even old enough to drink?”

It was sad to know the blonde was as shallow as Yoongi feared he would be. He had almost been genuinely interested in the pretty blonde.

His pout turned into a scowl, and unsurprisingly, he looked cute, even when he was brimming with contained anger. “Such a big mouth on such a small boy,” he huffed, his little hands gripping onto the table.

“Take out those insoles and then we'll talk,” Yoongi scoffed in response, glancing down at the boy’s platform sneakers.

The boy’s cheeks flushed a deep pink color, matching well with his blue outfit as he, too, looked down at his tall shoes. “I don't–!” His head snapped up to glare at Hoseok, who let out a snort despite his attempt to muffle the sound by clasping his hand over his mouth.

“Never mind,” the blonde gritted out, pushing up to his feet with a breathy sound. “I wouldn't want to go out with you anyway!”

It was petty and very on brand for the ringleader. “Sure thing, air pocket.”

Another burst of laughter came from Hoseok as Bubbles balled his tiny fists, his teeth gritted. “That's not–!”

A slender arm wrapped itself around the blonde’s waist, then. “C'mon, Bub,” Buttercup coaxed gently as he tugged his friend away from their table though he didn’t hesitate to send Jeongguk a murderous look, bringing an end to his poorly contained giggles. “Go fuck yourself, Jeon Jeongguk.”

From the dejected look in his eyes, Yoongi assumed there was a lot more going on between the two that they hadn’t told him about.

“What did I do?” the youngest whined, but it fell onto deaf ears as the two of them turned their backs and retrieved to their own table. “Isn't that how it always goes,” he sighed, his voice fully overpowered by the laughter of his friends.

“Air pocket,” Hoseok wheezed, holding onto Namjoon’s shoulder for support.

“That kid is neck-deep into that stupid fantasy of theirs,” Yoongi grumbled to the only one who was still listening. Namjoon hummed, shaking his head as he returned to his meal.

“Trust me, hyung, you haven’t seen the worst of it yet.”

After that first encounter, Yoongi decided that he thoroughly disliked Bubbles and his equally as rude friends – but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t have loved to kiss that conceited pout off his pretty face.

Yoongi learned many things during his first week at his new school, though only two things really stuck with him – that Bubbles was a resentful little shit and that the entirety of the school seemed to have pledged loyalty to him as he still didn’t know his name, despite having asked everyone in his class.

Even after a full week, the boy’s bitterness towards Yoongi hadn’t wavered, and he made sure to rub it in during every interaction they had.

“Good morning, hyungs–” Yoongi looked up from where he was scrolling through his phone and there he was, looking as cute and sweet as ever, “–and Yoongi.”

…or maybe just cute.

“Good morning, Sprinkle,” he responded, looking back down at his phone. Although he looked very cute in his custom denim, Yoongi wouldn’t give him the gratification of checking him out; not when Bubbles could see, at least.

He did look up, just to enjoy the sight of his pink cheeks locked jaw, doing his utmost best to ignore the comment. For someone who spend so much time trying to suppress his anger, he sure wasn’t good at it.

“Morning, Bub,” Hoseok and Namjoon greeted with dull voices, their eyes never leaving the crossword puzzle they were solving together.

Bubbles bristled at the lack of recognition and turned his attention to Jeongguk instead. “Gukie, what do you think of Buttercup’s new jacket?”

“It looks nice,” he stuttered out, sneaking a glance at said boy. Bubbles didn’t seem too impressed though as he crossed his arms and raised his brows. Jeongguk coughed in his fist, looking as awkward as he felt. “He looks very pretty, hyung.”

The blonde’s stormy expression cleared up and he even smiled a little, patting the other’s head again. Yoongi wondered if he would ever be able to figure their friendship out. “I’ll make sure to tell him you said that.”

Jeongguk started smiling then, looking very excited at the prospect of being talked about by the Pretty Boys. “Thank you, Jimin-hyung!”

Yet that simple slipup, brought an abrupt end to the amiable conversation. All five of them froze as Jeongguk’s doe-like eyes moved between Yoongi and Bubbles, his gaze fearful at the realization of his mistake.

“I’m sorry, I–” Yoongi, on the other hand, couldn’t be more delighted at the newfound information.

“Don’t worry, Jiminie,” he taunted with a wide smile, reaching over to pat Jeongguk’s hair in the same matter he always did. “I’m sure it was an accident.”

This time, Hoseok was a bit better at containing his laughter, but Namjoon sure wasn’t holding back.

Jimin flushed bright red and Yoongi could almost see the steam coming out of his ears as he hissed a loud curse and pointed a finger at his younger friend. “I’m going to ruin your life, Jeon Jeongguk. Just you wait.” And with that, he stormed off.

“Why is it always me?” Guk whined, dropping his head into Namjoon’s lap to hide from the curious looks the three of them were receiving.

“I’ll talk to him,” Hoseok said, stumbling over his feet as he laughed his way out of the hallway and around the corner the Pretty Boys had disappeared behind.

“Have I seen the worst of it now?” Yoongi said, receiving a slanted smile from Namjoon as they shared a knowing look.

“I’d say so, yes.” Yoongi only huffed, opening his Twitter to look for a certain boy named Jimin.

Later that night, he’d followed Jimin on Twitter, only to get blocked in response. Yet after posting a very kind tweet about their stupid gang, Yoongi was quickly unblocked – only to receive an extensive DM filled with unrepeatable insults.

From how stupid his face looked, to how insufferable his personality was, Jimin left no stone unturned in his essay. It was so personalized that Yoongi almost felt flattered; he’d certainly left an impression on the school’s it-boy.

But despite all of that, Yoongi had still left him on read – to Jimin’s immense frustration – which brought them to the present, as Yoongi was entering their school building and saw his self-proclaimed arch nemesis glowering at him from where he stood leaned against Blossom’s locker. “Morning, Park.”  

“Eat shit,” the other sneered in response, crossing his arms and turning back to his friend with an exasperated huff. Yoongi smiled to himself as he crossed the hall, making a mental note to bother the younger more often.

It brought him more joy than he cared to admit.

Yoongi liked seeing Jimin’s pink cheeks and fiery eyes. He liked how the blonde would always make sure to be extra loud and annoying when Yoongi was around, almost begging for his attention.

Not that he’d ever say it out loud, but he was starting to see the appeal of the Pretty Boys. It wasn’t just in their looks; it was in their liveliness. Without the vivid presence of the three bratty boys, his days would be awfully dull. They breathed life into every day.

Therefore, when Yoongi entered the bathroom during his break, he wasn’t surprised to see a comment about himself written on the wall of his favorite stall.

'min yoongi has a small xxxx'

“Huh,” he huffed, resting his elbows on his bare thighs as he inspected the message.

Although the sparkly blue marker was a dead giveaway, it didn’t take a genius to figure out who would have left it there. There was only one person who would want to target Yoongi’s integrity, and only one person who could do so and have Yoongi amused the entire time.

He was still smiling when he pulled out his black marker and encircled the words to add his own contribution to the bathroom wall discussion.

'alright, chlamydia boy :)'

“And now we wait,” he mumbled to himself as he pulled up his pants and fled from the crime scene.

It was barely two hours later when he was cornered by the boy he’d been thinking of all day. His expression was once again stormy, and his shoulders were squared in an attempt to intimidate Yoongi.

Unfortunately for him, he just looked like an angry baby chick – and the jasmine-colored sweater he was wearing wasn’t helping much either. Yoongi resisted the urge to pinch his puffed-out cheeks, or coo at him.

“How dare you write that about me?” His words were hissed, his eyes narrowed.

“How dare I write what?” Yoongi tilted his head and kept his expression neutral. If he was going to make it his daily mission to tease Jimin, he better do it well.

Jimin leaned back and tugged at his sleeves in frustration, looking around at the confused students that crossed them. After noticing their scandalized stares at their proximity, he jumped back – though his rage didn’t falter. “In the bathroom!”

Yoongi raked his eyes over the younger, taking in how cute he looked with his butterfly-shaped hair clips and shiny lip gloss. Yoongi wondered if he would look as good in it or if it was a Jimin thing, as most things were.

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“I know it was you!” Jimin bristled, gritting his teeth. It was obvious that it was Yoongi, just as it was obvious that the first message came from Jimin, yet what fun would it be to admit to his guilt?

The longer he denied, the more riled up the other would get; and he looked so cute like this. “I wish I could further assist you, Buttercup.”

Jimin all but stomped his feet at that, his arms uncrossing and hovering in between their bodies. For a second, Yoongi believed he was going to slam his tiny fists into his chest, but he, surprisingly, contained himself. “That's not my fucking name!”

Yoongi ignored his outburst and smirked at him lazily, relishing in the pink tint of his cheeks. “Let me know if you ever find the perpetrator.”

He furrowed his brows and closed his eyes, hissing out a curse. “You're so–!”

Yoongi pushed against his shoulder then and stepped away from the seething blonde. Yet, not without taking one last dig. “Oh, by the way,” he started, “I heard about your little problem.” Jimin eyes widened as Yoongi gestured down at his crotch. “You should get that checked out.”

“Min Yoongi!” he screeched as said boy turned his back on his and made his way towards the cafeteria. “Get back here!”

Yoongi only looked back once, to send him an insufferable smile. And as the door fell shut behind him, Jimin could only scream.

If Yoongi thought Jimin was a resentful brat before, nothing could prepare him for the wrath that was unleashed upon him after the bathroom situation.

From stupid rumors about Yoongi being a drug dealer, to slipping angry notes into his locker, Jimin was doing the most. But still, it amused Yoongi more than it bothered him. He’d even started decorating his locker with all of the notes he’d gotten from Yoongi and whenever people asked, he’d tell them they were love letters from his boyfriend – which angered the younger even more.

In fact, Yoongi was starting to get very impressed by Jimin’s creativity when it came to his bullying campaigns.

One morning, Yoongi arrived at school to find Jimin standing behind a nicely decorated table, selling colorful pins – handmade, as his sign suggested.

Yoongi approached with a low whistle and it was enough to have Jimin’s smile drop from his face. “If you need money that desperately, you can just ask hyung for some, you know?” All three boys looked affronted at the insinuation.

“We don’t need shit from you,” Jin, or Blossom, hissed from where he was seated next to Jimin and Taehyung also took a break from chatting to a costumer to send Yoongi a sharp look.

Jimin only huffed, continuing to count the stack of one thousand won bills in his hand before sliding it into their makeshift cash register and turning his attention to Yoongi, who still hadn’t stopped staring.

They looked like siblings with their matching white dresses and coordinated colorful socks. Seokjin was wearing pink, Tae green, and of course, Jimin was wearing the baby blue ones. The beret that sat on top of his hair had a similar shade, and Yoongi couldn’t get over how pretty it looked with his blonde hair.

He’d truly never met a boy as beautiful as Jimin, nor a more insufferable one.

“You want one?” he offered with a deceitfully sweet smile, holding up one of the pins to show it off. It was dark pink and had two words engraved in it in a graceful, white font.

‘anti myg’

“I wanted to put ‘fuck’ but the school disapproved my request,” he said, his head tilted up and eyes gleeful. Yoongi could only stare at the vibrant badges. He couldn’t believe Jimin spend hours out of his day making these, just to get a reaction out of him.

Maybe Jimin was even more obsessed with Yoongi than he was with him.

“Isn't this considered harassment?” he then asked, flipping it over to find Jimin own name etched in the back. It would’ve been almost romantic – if it weren’t meant to target him.

When Yoongi met his eyes, Jimin was looking all too pleased with himself. It was the first time he’d managed to render Yoongi speechless, he’d give him that.

“How do you know it's about you? It could be about anything.”

Yoongi snorted at that. “I guess that's true.” It wasn’t true at all; the campaign was very obviously targeted at him, but Jimin looked so proud and happy that he couldn’t bring himself to bicker about the matter.

“So, you want one?”

“Sure.”

Yet before Jimin could hand him a badge, Yoongi was unpinning the one he was wearing on his dress and re-fastened it to his pale blue beret. The boy stood frozen in place as Yoongi leaned back, his fingers lingering near his face only for a few moments. “You look pretty in pink, 'min.”

His eyes rounded impossibly more, lips parting on a sharp inhale. Yoongi had to keep his eyes trained of the pink pin, or he might’ve done something as stupid as trying to kiss the cute blonde.

Only when Seokjin cleared his throat loudly, did the two of them snap out of it.

Yoongi, now equally as flustered as Jimin, grabbed one of the pins and slammed down a five thousand won bill before taking off with a hurried, “Keep the change.”

After that, he tried hard to avoid Jimin, and it seemed like the other had the same idea. They didn’t speak again that day.

The next morning, the Pretty Boys weren’t sitting at the gate, nor was their table there. Yoongi thought he’d heard Jeongguk say that they’d be there until Wednesday, but maybe the sale went better than expected.

He had seen a lot of people wearing the pins, after all – most of them unaware of their meaning, or so he hoped.

“Good morning, Yoongi-hyung!”

“Morning,” he mumbled in response to his friends’ greetings yet his eyes were trained on the surprising addition to their group, though maybe he should’ve expected it.

When did Jimin ever leave him alone for longer than a day?

He was sitting next to Jeongguk, resting his head on his shoulder as the younger talked to him in a soft voice. He was probably ranting about another failed attempt to connect with Buttercup, and Jimin was probably highly amused.

It was bizarre to see how cute and cuddly they acted together. The two of them had a lot of push and pull, just like Jimin and himself. It seemed to be the blonde’s preferred way of interaction. Yoongi smiled at the idea but straightened himself out as soon as he received a nudge from Hoseok.

Yet he still sat down beside them, interrupting their conversation without much care. The two boys fell quiet as they looked up at him.

Only then, Yoongi noticed how sleepy Jimin looked, and he hoped it wasn’t because he stayed up to make more pins. Jimin’s eyes were droopy and lips sulky. It was a lot cuter than it should’ve been.

“Tired?” he asked, smiling at the worn-out boy. He only nodded pitifully, leaning against Jeongguk, and closing his eyes to get some more rest before their first class.

Yoongi took the opportunity to give him a onceover. He was wearing a pink sweater and pink shorts, and Yoongi couldn’t help but feel like the comment he’d made the previous day might’ve influenced his choice of clothes.

It could’ve been a coincidence, but Yoongi didn’t believe in those. “I thought you only wear pink on Wednesdays?” he teased.

Jimin opened his eyes and nudged Yoongi’s foot with his own. Sleepy Bub was clearly a lot less hostile, and even a bit clingy.  He was bubbly, like his nickname implied.

As Jimin threw back his head and giggled into his hand, he finally saw how it fitted him. Yoongi liked this softer side of him, though he loved bickering with him just as much.

“That’s so cliché, hyung.” His voice sounded soft and breathy. He pulled at his sweater, his hands peaking from the sleeves, and ran his fingers through his hair, mussing the locks.

“What about this isn’t?” Yoongi snorted and gestured at his outfit. Jimin halted his motions to look down at himself. “You look like a cartoon character.”

“Hyung,” Yoongi was immediately taken aback by his whiny tone, “when will you ever say something nice to me?” He sounded so petulant, nothing like the bratty Jimin he’d met on his first day.

Yoongi felt himself melt at the sight of his sullen pout and pleading eyes.

“Min-ah,” Yoongi lowered his voice, mirroring the other’s soft tone, “do you have to be liked by everyone?”

Jimin stared at him for a long moment, as if Yoongi was the ludicrous one. Even Jeongguk rolled his eyes to emphasize how stupid of a question he thought that was. Then, “I absolutely do.”

Yoongi could only blink as he let those words sink in. “That’s really sad, Jimin.”

“There you go again,” he groaned, just as Buttercup, dressed in a soft-looking sweater and a green skirt, rounded the corner. Jeongguk tensed besides them, eyes wide.

Yoongi wanted to express to Jimin how wrong it was that he only valued himself through the praise of others, but he didn’t get the chance as the blonde was already being whisked away by his best friend.

“Good morning, Buttercup,” Jeongguk stuttered with a smile but the two boys were already too far down the hallway to hear his softly spoken words. “Damnit.”

“So close, Gukie,” he said, ruffling the younger’s dark hair. “You like him a lot, huh?” He hid behind his hands, cursing, and Yoongi laughed.

“Yeah,” Jeongguk said eventually, a sheepish look on his face as he stared at the bathroom door where the duo had disappeared behind, likely to reapply their matching lipstick.

“I think I’m starting to like Jiminie.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He was starting to like him a lot.

Yoongi decided to make a move. Not a big one, as he had yet to find the courage, but a small gesture to hint at his true feelings. A gift felt too obvious, and a love note too cliché, so he settled on dying his hair bright blue.

That’ll draw Jimin’s attention to him, right?

He was right. Yoongi came to school early and sat down in front of Jimin’s locker with his eyes closed, enjoying the music pulsing through his earphones.

When he opened them, two songs later, Jimin was standing in front of him, staring down with a curious look in his eyes. He was wearing sharp winged eyeliner, his lips slathered in a simple balm. Yoongi guessed this was his attempt at subtle makeup.

He was about to tell him how cute it looked when he noticed his furrowed brows and pointed gaze. “You’re staring.”

Jimin looked away from his colored hair, and down to his eyes. He was scowling; his default expression around Yoongi. Even when he tweeted at Yoongi, his emojis were sullen. “’am not.”

 “Sure, Orb.” For once, Jimin didn’t look offended.

“You colored your hair,” Jimin said, pointing at Yoongi’s bright locks.  He couldn’t tell whether the younger liked it or not.

“I did,” Yoongi grinned, slipping his earbuds into the pocket of his jeans. Jimin followed the movement with his eyes.

“Blue is my color,” Jimin stated, his arms stiff by his side. He was wearing a black graphic shirt that was a few sizes too big on him; Yoongi thought the blonde got cuter every day.  

Yoongi only laughed and ran a hand through his freshly dyed hair. “You like it?”

“Any color would look good on you.” Yoongi was flattered by the compliment, but of course, Jimin wouldn’t leave it at that. “So dye it again.” They narrowed their eyes at each other.

“Do you have a patent on the color blue?” Yoongi stood up and grabbed his bag.

“No, but–”

“Good morning, Bub.” Both boys turned around at the casual greeting to see a classmate of Jimin’s. his eyes moved from Yoongi, to Jimin, and back to Yoongi. “Oh, shit, I thought you were Bubbles for a second.”

As the boy walked away with an apologetic smile, Jimin turned back to Yoongi, seething. “Identity theft is not a joke, Min Yoongi!” His cheeks were bright red as he shoved Yoongi into his locker, his push weak, and words stuttered.

He didn’t mean to laugh in Jimin’s face, but the younger was making it very difficult not to. “Then sue me.”

Jimin seemed to consider it for a moment before sighing at the realization of how stupid of an idea that was. “I would if I could!”

“But you can’t,” Yoongi teased, unable to withhold himself.

A loud gasp came from behind them. “Bubbles, baby, your hair!” Blossom screeched, high. He threw his pink handbag next to their feet, yet as the two boys turned around–“oh?”

Yoongi choked on a laugh and Jimin groaned loudly. “You’re dead to me.”

“It’s not my fault that I look better in blue than you do,” he teased, poking Jimin’s waist. He swatted at his hand, scowling at both of them.

“You do not.” He widened his eyes at Seokjin, urging him to back him up.

“It looks very cute on you,” Blossom agreed as he leaned in and curled one of Yoongi’s longer locks around his finger. “Maybe you could a Pretty Boy, too,” he winked, squeezing his cheek.

Jimin gasped, scandalized, and pulled Jin back. “No! He can’t join!”

“And what if I wanna?” he teased, ruffling out his hair to rub it in. “I might send in an application.”

Jimin fumbled with his sleeves. “Application denied,” he murmured, petulant. “Now let’s go, hyung.” He pulled at Seokjin’s arm again, staring up at him with pleading eyes.

“Hi, Bub!” another classmate smiled, patting Yoongi’s shoulder before locking eyes and–“oh…sorry.” Seokjin muffled a snort behind his hand and Yoongi only grinned.

When Jimin turned his head, he looked like he was about to explode–and the day had only just started.

To everyone’s surprise, Jimin didn’t stay bitter for too long. Instead, he seemed to grow fond of Yoongi’s new hair color over the course of the day. By the time school was over, he was clinging to his hyung’s arm and begging Yoongi to wear coordinated outfits with him.

“Hyung, we can be Bubbies together!” he’d said, tugging on his hand like a petulant child. “It would look so good and we could take pretty pics for my Twitter!”

It was very cute, how excited the prospect made him, and Yoongi couldn’t believe that he was actually considering it. Jimin was good at swaying Yoongi, who already needed little persuasion.

The idea of going to the park with Jimin during lunch and taking photos with him, like he always did with the other Pretty Boys, made him flustered.

“I though you didn’t want people to think we’re dating.”

Jimin sighed as he intertwined their fingers and squeezed them. His hands were small and very soft. Yoongi tried hard not to caress the back of his hand with his thumb. He really enjoyed touching Jimin like this; gentle and casual. 

“Yeah, but this is different.”

“How?” Yoongi was truly wondering how wearing matching outfits and posing all cutesy together was different from wearing matching badges with each other’s name engraved on it, but Jimin didn’t bother explaining.

“Do you have any skirts?”

Yoongi blinked and looked down at himself – were they looking at the same person? “Why would I have skirts?”

Jimin did the same, raking his eyes over Yoongi’s body. “You look like you would enjoy them.”

Yoongi didn’t dare to think about what he could mean with that. He hoped his hands didn’t feel sweaty; Jimin’s heavy gaze was causing a stir in the pit of his stomach.

“I don’t have any,” he clarified.

“Okay, I’ll lend you one–” Jimin started, ignoring Yoongi’s cries of protest, “–just wear a colorful sweater and we’ll layer it over a white skirt, okay?” It didn’t sound like he had a choice; he wasn’t good at denying Jimin, not when he was playing with his fingers and smiling so prettily.

“Maybe you’ll fit into the one I wore during my initiation!”

Yoongi’s eyes widened. That skirt. “I’ll just dye my hair.”

“Too late.”

Jimin was right. They did look good in their matching outfits, and their friends seemed to like it too, though it did cause some confusion.

“Is this your initiation?” Jeongguk asked, picking at the hem of Yoongi’s skirt.

“No,” Jimin stated firmly, his gaze worried. It was a bit longer on him than it was on Jimin, as the younger had longer legs, but Jimin was right. Wearing a skirt was more fun than he’d anticipated. It made him feel pretty and adored.

“Maybe.” He might want to match with the blonde more often.

“No,” Jimin stressed, his jaw tight as he glared at Yoongi, “his application has been denied,” both Yoongi and Blossom snorted, “he can’t join.”

Jeongguk nodded; he seemed to be the only one who took the Pretty Boys seriously, except for the Boys themselves.

“You look hot, hyung,” Hoseok noted with a grin, staring down. “You have good legs.” He finished the compliment off with a wink, which left Yoongi feeling rather coy.

“Thanks, Seok.” He felt his cheeks flush, and Namjoon made sure to tease him for it with a low whistle.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jimin bristle. “Yoongi-hyung,” he then whined, throwing both arms around Yoongi’s neck, and clinging to him. “Let’s go select our best pictures, okay?”

Buttercup still had the camera that they took their photos with, so the two matching boys stood up to retrieve it yet Hoseok’s booming laughter stalled their exit. “I was just giving my friend a compliment,” Jimin sucked on his teeth, “no need to get possessive, Bub.”

When Yoongi turned his head to look, Jimin was already staring back at him. “C’mon, hyung.” He was clearly set on ignoring Hoseok’s accusation, and Yoongi was left wondering why.

They sat down in front of Jimin’s locker, leaning their backs against it, after taking the camera from Taehyung. Jimin didn’t meet his eyes as he started flipping through the images. He looked dejected, and a bit nervous. Yoongi wondered if he should ask about it but he didn’t.

He lingered on a solo shot of Yoongi. “You do have good legs.” Yoongi looked away; he couldn’t look at himself posing all cutesy. It was too embarrassing.

“Thanks.” His voice was soft, their thighs pressed together. Jimin’s body was warm, and Yoongi longed to touch him more. Being with Jimin felt easy these days. It was safe, and comfortable.

After their initial meeting, Yoongi would’ve never believed that they’d be this close one day…even if they’re constantly bothering the other. “You can have that skirt. It looks better on you.” Yoongi doubted that he did.

“Are you sure?” It was surprising that he’d want to give away his initiation gift. “I’ve heard a lot of stories about you in this skirt.”

“Really?” Jimin asked. His eyes were round but coy, and Yoongi couldn’t help but smile. He was way too far gone for the petite blonde.

“Yeah,” Yoongi said and nudged him. “You’re a Pretty Boy for a reason, hmm?”

Jimin flushed and bit down onto his lip to contain his smile. “Ah, stop it, hyung.” It was silent for a bit, as they flipped through more pictures.

Then, Jimin paused on another cute picture of the two of them. Yoongi stared at it; at their natural smiles and at their linked hands. They looked like boyfriends, and it left Yoongi with a heavy feeling inside his chest.

“If you really want to apply, you can.”

“What?” Yoongi finally looked away from the camera, and at Jimin. Now, he was the one staring down.

“I was being annoying,” Jimin admitted, pouting as if he was forced to make the confession. Yoongi wanted to pinch his rosy cheek. “You can join if you want.”

Did Jimin really think he wanted to apply?

“Jimin-ah,” Yoongi wheezed, gripping onto his tan knee, “I would honestly rather change schools again than to join your stupid gang.” The coy expression fell from Jimin’s face as he turned to meet his gaze.

“And here I was trying to be nice!” Jimin hissed, slapping the inside of Yoongi’s thigh sharply. It hurt to have his rings smack against his bare skin, but he was too busy laughing to reprimand Jimin for it. “I hate you so much.”

“I don’t think you do, Bobblehead,” Yoongi giggled.

Jimin didn’t dignify him with a response, but he didn’t complain when Yoongi pulled him into his embrace either.

They ended up posting many pictures, and Jimin even posted one of just Yoongi with a blue heart in the caption. Yoongi’s heart stuttered as he double tapped it.

Ever since that day, something changed between the two. Jimin started gravitating more towards Yoongi, and Yoongi started letting him in more.  They still bickered as much as they used to, but it no longer had a bite to it. It was closer to flirting now, according to Hoseok.

They were starting to get an understanding of each other’s boundaries, and they respected them. Yoongi no longer had Jimin seething every other day, and Jimin put a stop to the badge campaign.

Yoongi would even go as far as to say that they had become friends.

“You’re staying in for lunch?” Jimin asked as he readjusted the collar of Yoongi’s jacket. It was always crooked, and it bothered Jimin every time. Yoongi smiled at him as he tugged at the fabric.

“You’re not?” Jimin rarely went out. His parents always prepared lunch for him. It was unsurprising that the blonde was a bit spoiled. Yoongi wished he could spoil him too; he enjoyed providing for others.

Jimin leaned back, patting his chest. “Blossom and Buttercup are, but I wanna get coffee.”

 “I think Joon is going out,” Yoongi said with a hum.

“You’re staying in?”

A couple of people greeted them on their way to class, none of which Yoongi knew. He was starting to think Jimin didn’t know any of them either and he was just pretending to. He didn’t seem like the type to remember every face he saw; he was far too dreamy for that.

“I don’t know yet.”

Jimin paused in the middle of the hallway and turned to Yoongi, his grip on the straps of his backpack tight. “You can’t be serious, hyung.” Jimin heaved an aggravated sigh, and Yoongi was just as clueless as before. “Will you go for coffee with me?”

Yoongi could only blink, stunned. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“No!” Jimin exclaimed, though his cheeks burned up rapidly. “It’s just lunch, you perv.” Yoongi rolled his eyes and turned to his phone. “I want coffee,” Jimin pressed, irked by the elder’s lack of response.

“Sure, you do.”

“Fine, I’ll ask Joon,” he sighed, sounding more dejected than Yoongi was expecting. Did he just accidentally reject Jimin? 

Before the younger could turn away, he Yoongi reached out and grasped Jimin’s arm, pulling him back. “I’ll go with you.”

“Okay.” They were both wildly embarrassed by their eagerness, looking anywhere but at each other as Yoongi released his hold on Jimin.

“It’s just lunch,” Jimin said after a while of tense silence and Yoongi nodded.

“Just lunch,” he agreed as they started walking again, feeling giddy inside.

The walk to the café was pleasant. The weather was nice, and their conversation flew effortlessly. Mostly because Jimin was in a playful mood, giggling the entire time and leaning onto Yoongi a bit more than necessary.

“I’ll go guard that table. Order me an iced americano.”

But, of course, when Jimin returned, he was holding two caramel lattes. For a moment, Yoongi thought maybe they had run out of espresso but then he saw the defiant look in Jimin’s eyes. “Are you ever going to listen to anything I ask of you?”

The blonde looked lovely, even when he stared up with a sly smile, challenging him. “Why should I?”

Yoongi still accepted the drink, even when the first sip made him grimace. Jimin, however, looked perfectly content – it shouldn’t be surprising that he liked this sugary mess.

“I’m your hyung,” Yoongi pointed out, nudging Jimin’s shin. The younger kicked back in response.

Then, he shrugged, dismissive of Yoongi’s reasoning. “I have many hyungs.” So much unruliness wrapped up in such a small body. “I can’t do everything they ask of me all the time.”

“No, but–” His voice was firmer, their mutual gaze unwavering, especially when Yoongi’s eyes flickered with something warm. “–it would make me happy if you listened to me more.” Jimin flushed at the request and put his coffee down, tucking some of his longer locks behind his ear.

“Eat shit,” he huffed in typical Jimin fashion, and it would’ve sound legit if he didn’t stutter so much. Yoongi laughed and took another sip from that Godforsaken drink, only to cough and complain right after.

Then, it was Jimin’s turn to laugh – and suddenly, Yoongi didn’t mind the taste as much anymore. Yoongi smiled, resting his chin on the palm of his hand and staring as the younger hummed, soft and breathy.

It was then that Yoongi realized how easy it was to love Jimin.

Yoongi was late.

The party started at nine, and Yoongi only got there by eleven. His friends made sure to point it out, patting his back roughly as he apologized to the host; Hoseok himself.

“Ah, hyung, I can’t believe you,” he’d joked, offering him a drink. Yoongi declined. He wasn’t much of a drinker, and he was planning to leave early anyway. He wasn’t a fan of loud places, and the house was absolutely packed, music blasting from every room.

There were many people, too many for Yoongi’s comfort, but he still decided to stay.

Jimin was there, and that was enough of a reason for him. He wanted to see him, maybe dance with him for a little while, before turning in for the night. It didn’t take Yoongi long to find him, though it did take him a while to get to the younger.

He was dancing in the middle of the living room, engulfed by people Yoongi didn’t know nor recognize. He looked radiant, his skin as golden as always and his expression blissed out as he swayed from side to side, entranced by whatever song was playing.

And Yoongi wasn’t the only one who noticed the striking blonde as he was surrounded by boys, many hands gripping onto his body as they danced.

Yoongi forced himself to look away and turn back to Jeongguk. It shouldn’t hurt to see Jimin enjoying himself with others, but it did. As Yoongi looked around the packed room, he noticed that the other Pretty Boys weren’t there, or they just weren’t in sight.

“Is Taehyung here?” he asked Jeongguk, leaning in close to speak into his ear.

“No, he couldn’t make it,” he replied, taking a long sip from his drink.

He looked almost as bothered as Yoongi himself, and then, they fell quiet. They stayed glued to the wall, and Yoongi did his best to glance at Jimin as little as possible. Because whenever he did, he found himself growing more and more annoyed.

Things had been good between them; they had been building up to something. Yoongi hadn’t imagined that, right?

But all attempts at being patient vanished when he watched a boy from Jimin’s class lean in and kiss the corner of his mouth, pulling their bodies closer together.

“See you Monday, kid,” was all the said to Jeongguk before fleeing the living room.

He passed through the hallway unnoticed, but when he passed by the kitchen, Namjoon caught him sneaking away. “Hyung!” Yoongi cursed under his breath as he stopped and turned.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his smile lazy and lopsided. He looked very drunk, and so did Hoseok, who sat on the counter and poured them another drink.

“Home,” Yoongi replied curtly. The other two didn’t seem to pick up on his irritability, though.

“Why?” he asked, whining about how boring their hyung was under his breath.

“Does it matter?” Yoongi snapped in return as he watched them take some more sips from their wine glasses. He really didn’t think they should’ve been drinking any more, but he didn’t comment on it either.

“Of course, it matters,” Hoseok said, as if it was obvious. Yoongi bristled in response and was about to tell them off when two tan arms snuck around his waist, a pointed chin hooked over his shoulder.

“Is hyung being boring again?” a breathy voice hummed. 

Jimin’s breath was hot as his lips hovered over his ear, and if Yoongi wasn’t so incredibly infuriated, it would’ve made him flustered.

“Get off me, ‘min,” he hissed as he threw his arms off his shoulders, though without any real force – he wouldn’t want him to slip and fall.

The silence that followed was painful.

Jimin’s eyes were wide, his flirty mood diminished by the sternness of Yoongi’s voice. He looked hurt, but Yoongi couldn’t care less in that moment; his own pain was all he could think of.

Things had been so good between them. 

Their two friends noticed the tension and took their leave, closing the door behind them. Only after that, Jimin managed to bring out any words. “What’s wrong?”

It was a stupid question to Yoongi, and he huffed as he stared down at Jimin, who curled in on himself.

“Hyung, what did I do?” he asked when Yoongi offered him nothing but silence. He sounded petulant and pouty, as he played with his fingers. He was itching to reach out and embrace Yoongi, as they’d grown so comfortable doing, but he knew better than to touch his hyung.

Yoongi was too focused on containing his own anger, and on the insecurity that Jimin exhumed, to talk. He didn’t even know where to begin.

Yoongi was in love. He was blindly in love with the younger boy, and he couldn’t bear the heartbreak of seeing him with others. But he knew that he had no right to be upset, so he didn’t say anything.

Jimin didn’t want him. He wanted more than what Yoongi had to offer, and he couldn’t blame the younger for that. It was stupid of him to let himself fall for Jimin anyway. He should’ve seen it coming.

Jimin was vivid and radiated so much light and happiness. He brought life into that dull school of theirs, and made every single day a little brighter, just with his mere presence.

And Yoongi – well, he was just one of the many.

“I thought you liked me,” Jimin said, his voice quiet and insecure. Yoongi forced himself to look away.  

“I don’t like boys like you.” It was mean, he knew it was, but the image of Jimin letting that boy touch him and even kiss his mouth lingered in his mind, suffocating him.

“What the fuck do you mean with that?”

Jimin gripped onto Yoongi’s arm as he tried to walk past him. He could barely keep himself from crying, his face red and ridden with humiliation, screaming over the music.

“Let go of me.”

Jimin did, but that didn’t stop him from following Yoongi outside. His head was throbbing by the time he stepped out onto the street, his heart pounding in his throat.

The fresh air did him good, but then Jimin’s nails were digging into the skin of his shoulder, his fingers rigid. “Hyung, stop!”

“What do you want me to say, ‘min?” he sighed. Jimin’s vice grip softened, his hand now cupping his face as he stared up at Yoongi ruefully. It broke something inside of Yoongi, who closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“You said you like me! Jeongguk wouldn’t lie about that!” He looked so heartbroken, tears spilling down his flushed cheeks. “And what do you mean ‘boys like me’? What’s wrong with how I am?” he added, stuttering and overcome by emotions in the most awful of ways.

Yoongi couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m sorry,” he hiccupped, tears springing into his eyes. “I don’t know what’s going on with me.”

As soon as Jimin was given the chance, he curled his arms around Yoongi’s neck and clung onto his body, giving himself the comfort he needed.

“There’s nothing wrong with how you are,” Yoongi murmured into the crook of Jimin’s neck, rubbing his back in circular motions. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

It was difficult to calm Jimin down. He was breathing with difficulty and cried on Yoongi’s shoulder for a long time.

“Hyung, never say something like that again,” he sobbed into Yoongi’s shirt, clutching onto the fabric tightly.

“I won’t,” he promised, kissing Jimin’s forehead, “I’m so sorry, Bub.”

When Jimin finally calmed down, they leaned down to observe each other’s tearstained faces.

“You look so pretty tonight, Jimin,” Yoongi smiled, petting his hair, and caressing his wet cheeks, “you always look so cute.”

Jimin sniffled, and the elder melted at the crunch of his nose. His cheeks looked a bit puffier than usual, his eyes a bit drowsy from the alcohol. Jimin looked down at his outfit. “I wore it because I know you like pink.”

The elder giggled, pulling him a bit closer. “I don’t like pink,” Jimin’s pout intensified, “I like you in pink.” And then it disappeared altogether, making place for a sweet smile and pink cheeks.

“Thank you, hyung,” he said, pulling Yoongi in for another warm hug. At least Jimin brought a jacket; Yoongi wished he had too.

“You wanna go for a walk?” Jimin pulled back and stared up at him. “Get some air?” He nodded and kissed his cheek.

“Yes, please,” he smiled with his hands folded in front of his body. It was unusual to see him so kind and well-behaved. Yoongi guessed it was because he was a bit drunk and sleepy.

“Let’s go, Bub.” Jimin looked pleased to hear his nickname coming out of Yoongi’s mouth.

They were quiet at first, enjoying the silence as they walked in the dark. They kept their finger interlocked for comfort. Jimin’s hands were soft and warm, like the rest of him.

Yoongi wondered what this night meant for them. Were things good again?

After a while of walking, they sat down on a bench near a park and finally, Yoongi asked the question that had been resting on the tip of his tongue all night. 

“Who was that boy that kissed you?”

Jimin looked up, wide-eyed and surprised. “You saw that?”

“Yeah, I saw,” he replied.

The hurt must’ve been apparent in his voice, as Jimin squeezed his hand and scooted closer. “Is that why you were angry?”

Yoongi nodded, even if it was a bit embarrassing. He wanted to be honest; he owed Jimin that much. The younger boy hummed.

“He’s a boy from my class.” Yoongi swallowed hard; he figured that much. “We were just dancing, I didn’t know he wanted,” Jimin cringed, maybe at himself, maybe at the memory, “that.”

It hurt Yoongi to think about it, let alone to hear the boy he loved talk about it.

“Did you like it?” He might not like the answer, but he had to know before he gave Jimin a piece of himself.

“Didn’t you see I turned my head?” Yoongi shook his head, and Jimin made a soft noise of understanding. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, ‘min,” he said, squeezing his fingers. “Even if you did want to kiss him, it’s not,” he sighed, frustrated by his inability to express himself, “it’s none of my business.”

“It is, though,” Jimin pressed with a pout, dropping his head onto Yoongi’s shoulder. “It is because,” Yoongi grasped his chin gently and lifted his face up to meet his eyes, “it just is.”

He, too, sounded frustrated with himself. Yoongi laughed and Jimin smiled in response. They sat like that for a while, grinning at each other and nuzzling close for warmth.

“So, is what Jeongguk told us true?” Jimin inquired, tracing shapes on Yoongi’s thigh. “Do you like me?”

He couldn’t believe how easy he made it sound, as if Yoongi hadn’t been struggling to ask that question for weeks.

Jimin was patient as the other gathered his thoughts.

When he did reply, however, he was confident in his answer. “Yeah, it is. I like you, ‘min-ah.” Said boy made a muffled noise into the crook of Yoongi’s neck, his little fingers tensing where they lied on his thighs.

It was cute. Jimin was so incredibly cute.

“Unless you don’t like me, in that case I don’t like you either,” he teased, nudging Jimin’s side and chuckling when he sent him an unbelieving look.

“I like you too, Yoongi-hyung,” he then said, biting his cheek. Their eye contact was effortless and their touches soothing.

Yoongi wondered if it would be okay to kiss him. “Cool,” he then murmured, inwardly cursing himself. But at least it made Jimin laugh and throw himself against Yoongi’s body, holding him tight. “You’re so–”

“Insufferable?” Jimin nodded into his neck. “Only to you.”

When Jimin lifted his chin, their faces were closer together than before. Their breaths mingled as they stared at each other for a long moment. And as the blonde glanced down at his mouth with desire in his eyes, Yoongi no longer doubted himself.

They met in a gentle press of lips.