Chapter Text
Namjoon's wedding day is perfect and sunny, because Eun-ji would never allow anything else, and Yoongi sweats inside of a suit that's too tight in the shoulders to make him comfortable. But Namjoon had been exacting in his requirements, almost more fussy than Eun-ji, and Yoongi supposes that being a best man involves some sacrifice.
Besides, the outdoor venue is full of flowers, bursting across the chairs and through the aisles, and Jimin is softly pretty where he sits among them.
Yoongi stands at his place by the altar, holding the rings as assigned but really watching Jimin, who Yoongi thinks he cannot live without, and that's a thing that thrills him more than scares him these days. The ceremony is elaborate but flawless, and Yoongi supposes it's a nice sort of time, for people who like sentiment. Yoongi's still not so sure he does, though he's certainly come around to the idea of grand gestures over the last months.
As Namjoon starts his vows, precise and rapping, Yoongi stares at Jimin's smiling face, and thinks about happiness, and where it comes from.
For Yoongi's birthday he goes to see Jimin, because Jimin is on tour and Yoongi needs him like a plant needs sunlight, but he makes it a surprise, because he likes the way Jimin laughs when he's shocked. Hoseok helps him with the logistics, sneaking him backstage in the middle of their soundcheck, helping Yoongi hide in the wings, then distracting Jimin with nipticky criticisms until Yoongi can sneak up and cover his eyes with his hands.
The smile that lights his face is everything Yoongi had dreamed of, and when Jimin kisses him, laughing happily, Yoongi doesn't even care when Hoseok leads the rest of the team in an embarrassingly dramatic birthday song.
Later, Yoongi watches the show from the the side of the stage, enjoying the way his beats feel underneath his feet while Jimin moves. He keeps his distance when Jimin comes on and off, trying to be discreet, knowing that this is Jimin's job and that he's a professional, that he's not supposed to advertise his relationships these days. Their fanbase is growing, Jimin the most popular of a popular group, and Yoongi would never mess with this thing that he loves so much.
And Jimin is a professional, always, so he shoots Yoongi no seductive looks, no little winks or smiles even as he's half-naked, stripping down to his god-like form in front of a hundred stagehands and costumers. Yoongi is resigned, knowing that he will always have to share Jimin, with friends and employees and adoring crowds, but also comforted to remember that there are some parts of Jimin that only Yoongi has ever known.
At the end of the show, after the last track that Yoongi meticulously produced fades away and he expects the team to bow and wave, Jimin steps forward into a sudden light.
"Hello everyone," he says brightly to cheers and screams. "It's your friend Jimin."
The crowd loses themselves once more, and Jimin giggles into his mic as he folds up, embarrassed.
"So, we've been on tour for awhile, and you guys are always so nice to us. I wanted to show my appreciation for you, but I'm a little nervous."
A heartfelt "awwww" rings out from the audience, followed by applause and a chant of Jimin's name.
Jimin laughs again, waving them off. "You see, when I first tried out, I'd never sang before. Ever! But they gave me a chance to try, and I really like singing for you guys," he says, smiling shyly at the cheers. "In those really early days, someone told me that my voice was well-suited for ballads, but I've never sung one. Is it okay if I try one in front of you?"
The crowd falls to pieces, screaming acceptance, and Jimin nods to the techs. A soft backing track pours out of the speakers, delicate and light, and Yoongi's eyes widen when he recognizes the first song he'd ever done with Jimin, the sweet love song he'd asked him to sing as a test a lifetime ago.
"This song is for anyone who's having a special day today," says Jimin. "I know that I am."
And Jimin sings it beautifully, better than he's ever been, and he doesn't look away from the audience but Yoongi can feel the notes like fingers on his skin, can see the way Jimin looked as he leaned back in his booth, can remember how much he'd desired him, even then. The sweetness is back in his voice, that carefully trained away tone, and it's beautiful and pure to Yoongi's ears. He knows he wouldn't be able to mix this, would find nothing about it to change, and that makes him smile as nothing else can.
Yoongi looks to the side and sees Hoseok filming him with his phone, an evil grin on his face.
"I thought this was a surprise for Jimin," says Yoongi, trying to be annoyed and failing.
"I lied," says Hoseok, absolutely unabashed. "Happy birthday, man."
When the song ends the crowd and the Hope-Stars applaud for Jimin, and his face is flushed and happy when he bows in thanks. And when they come off of the stage he's not a professional anymore, so he kisses Yoongi with sweet abandon, perfect and proud, and it's the best birthday Yoongi has ever had.
Eun-ji cries lovely tears as Namjoon finishes his vows, and she loves him so clearly that it rings like a bell across the assembled friends and family, the hundreds of people that they invited inside. Yoongi doesn't understand that, can't imagine ever wanting so many people to watch him fall apart, but she only smiles when Yoongi passes over his assigned handkerchief as instructed.
He takes it back between two fingers, tucking it into his pocket, and Namjoon gives him a grin. His hair is black as night, and he's still handsome and smooth and overwhelming, but in a way that's more comfort than terror. They aren't quite what they were anymore, a little changed with the things that Namjoon knows and the way that Yoongi felt, but it's not lesser. In some ways they are more, because the last pollution of secrets is gone between them, and Yoongi feels warmth without burning whenever they talk.
But Namjoon turns back to Eun-ji, because for her his face glows, happy and eager, and Eun-ji begins to speak over Yoongi's memories.
For Jimin's birthday, Yoongi enlists the help of Taehyung, who is strange and confusing but a person quick to forgiveness, unwilling to hold a grudge. He'd let Yoongi back in to grace more quickly than the rest, citing Jimin's grown up nature and permanent smile, with the additional bonus that Jimin was leaving more and more space in the closet for Taehyung's clothes.
So Taehyung takes Jimin to the animal shelter for a day, promising therapy through petting puppies, and Yoongi is deluged with photos of Jimin holding tiny dogs and smiling dazzlingly as Yoongi tries to focus on what he actually needs to get done. After getting a three minute long video that's mostly Jimin silently rubbing his face against a wiggling, delighted beagle's, Yoongi texts Taehyung to say that Jimin had better not be bringing any dogs back with him.
And he doesn't, but he floats back into Yoongi's apartment on a happy cloud, face bright and pleading, and Yoongi is certain that they'll have a dog one day. And while Yoongi doesn't know how he feels about the dog, he knows how he feels about Jimin, and he likes the way it is to hold that in his heart, to realize he'd thought of them so easily as people who could have something together.
Which reminds him of the gift he's arranged, and he loops a piece of fabric around Jimin's eyes over his protests, stealing the opportunity for a few kisses that Jimin returns with sweet trust.
"Is this sex?" asks Jimin as Yoongi leads him down the hall.
"No."
Jimin pouts, stopping short. "Can it be?"
Yoongi kisses him again, less gently, and says, "Be good."
"I don't like being good," says Jimin, but he follows again when Yoongi tugs him forward to the door of the dance room. Jimin's hand is soft inside Yoongi's, twisting as Yoongi pulls him to the center of the room, before he unties the blindfold and steps away.
Jimin's eyes widen as he looks around, spinning on the ball of his foot, taking in the scene with his mouth half-open, because Yoongi had paid people to come in and turn the studio from a re-purposed musician's room into a true dancer's space, relying on Hoseok to tell him the sort of things that he needed. He'd spared no expense, nervous that Jimin would sense any lack, scared that he might turn a place Jimin already liked into a place that felt cheap or wrong.
But to Yoongi's eyes it looks good. Mirrors line the walls, reflecting them back into it, and bars and bright lights dot the room just like all the ones at headquarters. The sound system is overhauled, the soundproofing complete, and there's even a refrigerator in the corner, stuffed full of water because Jimin sometimes forgets to take care of himself. Yoongi had made them put in a softer floor, something easier on joints, and he'd picked out the wall color himself, a soft, silvered gray that he always associates with Jimin, the hair-color that Yoongi likes most.
He tries to see it through Jimin's eyes, understand what it is he's thinking, half-afraid it's not enough, half-afraid it's too much.
"This is beautiful," says Jimin, breathing out, and he sighs out as he spins again. "I can't believe you did this."
"Is it okay?"
Jimin stops turning and stares at him. "It's incredible. But I don't deserve it. This is your apartment. The rooms should be what you want."
"And I want this room to be yours. I already think of it that way," says Yoongi. "Happy birthday, Jimin."
Jimin scrunches up his face and stamps his foot. "That's not until next week!"
"But I wouldn't be able to convince you to go off with Taehyung all day if it was actually your birthday."
"Fine," says Jimin grumpily, but he has a silly little grin on his face as he runs over, launching himself into Yoongi's arms and spinning them both in a wide circle.
Yoongi laughs as Jimin squeezes him tightly, then peppers Yoongi with little kisses up his jaw.
"You're spoiling me," says Jimin in his ear. "I'm going to demand an even better gift next year, you know."
"As long as you're here with me, I'll get you anything you want," says Yoongi.
And without warning, Jimin is crying, softly against Yoongi's shoulder, and Yoongi leans back, alarmed. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," says Jimin, and he's smiling as tears streak down his face. "I just really love you, that's all."
Yoongi freezes, happy and scared, but Jimin doesn't let him stay frozen, kissing him deeply, not expecting anything in return. They stay locked in the moment for a long time, Yoongi's fingers touching Jimin's wet cheeks, Jimin's hands at his waist, breathing in each other's presence.
Eventually Jimin pulls away, and his eyes are dry. "So," he says quietly, thrillingly. "There's a lot of mirrors in here."
"Yeah?"
"I think they deserve to know what they're in for in this den of sin."
And Yoongi growls at him, tugging at his clothes, and he and Jimin don't dance together, exactly, but Yoongi still thinks they put the room to good use.
Hoseok is sobbing when Eun-ji finishes up, making little choking sounds behind him that have Yoongi turning around in disbelief. The rest of the gathered throng isn't much better, including Jimin and all of his roommates, except for Seokjin who is smiling the same cool smile he always does. Yoongi is a little annoyed that he was invited at all, but it turns out his father is more important than Yoongi knew or cared to know, and Namjoon and Eun-ji always know what angles to work.
Jimin looks as lovely as Eun-ji with tears in his eyes, and he grins wobbily at Yoongi when he sees him staring.
The minister begins to speak, and Yoongi waves at Jimin with the tips of fingers, and Jimin waves back even more cutely.
They eat dinner on a random Wednesday night, sitting across from each other at Yoongi's battered table, and Yoongi says, "You should move in."
"I basically already have," says Jimin, scrolling through his phone. "Between work trips and you, I haven't slept at home in weeks."
"Is Seokjin keeping a calendar or something?" asks Yoongi archly.
Jimin's eyes flick up, amused. "Yeah."
"How nice of him. But that's not what I mean. You should have all your stuff here," says Yoongi. He waves at the barren room around them. There's still no furniture, though his board of pictures now has Jimin's image woven into every opening. "I have the space."
"But you like the way your place looks."
Yoongi shrugs. "It worked for me, when I was alone. But I'm not alone now. I want you to live here, for real," he says. "If you want to, anyway."
Jimin bites his lip, then nods. "Okay," he says. "But I might disappoint you. Almost all of my furniture is Seokjin's."
"Then you should buy some," says Yoongi. "Spend as much as you want. I'm paying."
"I have my own money, you know," says Jimin. "Kind of a lot of it now."
"Good," says Yoongi. "Spend it on me. I love getting shit. I'm going to buy you furniture, though."
"I think I liked it better when you were too scared to order me around," says Jimin, but he's smiling.
Yoongi wads up his napkin, throwing it across the table, and Jimin bats it away before going back to his phone, and it's just a Wednesday night, and they're at peace.
Yoongi follows the new couple down the aisle, So-young on his arm, still the sort of almost-friend he likes. She's watching Eun-ji's train, following her own complicated set of instructions about the day, and he snorts when she whispers a quick list of reminders to herself as they go through the doors.
She elbows him, and he smirks at her, and when they take their pictures together they can hardly get a good one for all of the pushing and shoving.
"Enough," says Namjoon like someone's dad, and So-young and Yoongi both laugh at him until he glares. "Groomsmen pictures now."
So they do that, and Yoongi is tired of smiling, but eventually he takes his picture alone with the bride and groom and he tries to summon up the will to continue on for them. But once they've gotten their nice ones, Eun-ji nods at Namjoon, and as the cameras continue to flash they both grab Yoongi around the waist, squeezing him in place, and kiss him on either cheek before he can stop them.
He moves away, blushing, knowing that the picture will haunt him for the rest of his life, but it succeeds in making him behave for the rest of the photos, which Eun-ji is entirely too triumphant about.
He plays the piano at the reception for some shifts, both standards and original works, and Jimin keeps him company on the bench. He's in a skintight suit, hair swept above his head in the grey Yoongi likes, and the squared, elegant maturity of him is something that Yoongi wants to touch.
"I don't like being the date of someone who's in the wedding," says Jimin. "You're too busy for me. You won't even be able to be on the dance floor for forever."
"Sorry," says Yoongi. "Won't Jeongguk dance with you?"
"Everyone will dance with me," says Jimin. "But I want to dance with you."
"We will," says Yoongi. "I'll be done with all of this eventually. You'll be turning me on without even trying in no time."
Jimin laughs, and Yoongi shifts into a new song, chords that make Jimin clap in delight.
"That's me!"
"Yeah," says Yoongi. "Came up with some new ideas during the ceremony. Still not done yet, though. I can't figure out the beginning. Maybe soon."
"No rush," says Jimin. "I like watching you work on it. You're all regal when you're composing."
Yoongi chuckles to himself. "For some reason when you say that I feel really, really old."
"I know," says Jimin in a satisfied voice. "That's why I say it."
After all of the planned activities are done, Yoongi pulls Jimin away from Taehyung, dragging him out onto the now DJ-ed dance floor and wrapping his arms around him.
"You look great by the way," says Yoongi. "I don't know if I told you that."
Jimin's eye makeup has smudged over his lids so he looks a little sloppy, a little drunk, and Yoongi likes the bedroom look it gives him.
"You did," says Jimin. "But you can tell me it as much as you want."
He pulls in closer to Yoongi, grinding against him to the beat of a cheesy love song, and Yoongi chases his lips as he moves. Jimin gives in, briefly, then goes back to dancing, laughing when Yoongi growls at him.
"That's for later," says Jimin. "Dance now."
So Yoongi does, moving where Jimin leads him, letting the music wash over them both. Some people cut in on them, wanting to talk with Jimin, bathe in his warm light, and Yoongi lets them briefly, but mostly he wants Jimin to be his, and Jimin doesn't seem to mind.
They take a break for food and drinks, and Jimin sits on Yoongi's lap while he feeds him, and Yoongi feels stupid and happy and aroused with all the people around them, watching. Jimin is sweet and plying with his offerings, and he laughs softly whenever Yoongi blushes, leaning forward to kiss him gently and make it a hundred times worse.
Eventually Yoongi has to push him off, dangerously close to indecency, a thing that best men had been expressly forbidden from engaging in per the bride's rules. Jimin only smiles at him, wicked and full of stars, and Yoongi's heart thumps crazily when he pulls him back onto the dance floor.
A slow song starts, something easier to move to, and Jimin wraps his arms around Yoongi's neck and sways with him, effervescent and shining under the starlight.
"You're beautiful," says Yoongi. "I can't believe it sometimes, how beautiful you are. Why are you with a mess like me?"
"I don't know," says Jimin. "Must be pheromones."
"Makes sense."
"Or it's because you're the best thing that's ever happened to me," says Jimin. "The only person who's ever made sense in the whole of my life. I'm glad I'm beautiful, otherwise I'd have no hope of someone like you wanting me."
Yoongi shakes his head. "You're perfect. Everything about you. Even if you were hideous, I'd need you every day. I can't imagine my life meaning much at all without you in it."
Jimin smiles. "But it's good I'm not hideous."
"I guess I'll take you gorgeous, if I have to."
"You're so sweet to me."
Yoongi swallows, stroking a finger along Jimin's cheek, across his full lips. Jimin's eyes are dark and expressive, knowing him, learning him, loving him in ways infinite and small, even on days where Yoongi doesn't feel much like he can be loved. He sees futures inside them, and pasts, and all of the times that they could have been something else but weren't, and the threads that led them to this moment, and this place, where Yoongi can have his arms full of such a person, and feel like this.
He doesn't understand his luck, doesn't know what he's done to deserve this, to be with a man who is so easy, and so right. Jimin isn't always happy, and Yoongi isn't always safe, but they've turned into something that works, somehow, against all of the odds in every book. But Yoongi doesn't know how to be grateful, he's never known how to thank anyone for the things they give him, and he understands that Jimin is a debt he will spend his entire life repaying.
And that's okay, because his entire life is nothing at all to give away, to someone as generous as Jimin.
"I love you," says Yoongi suddenly.
"Yeah?" asks Jimin softly, smiling.
"Yeah," says Yoongi, heart pounding. "I really do."
He'd thought it would be hard to say, but it's easy, and he says it again, over and over he whispers it to Jimin where they dance under the stars. And he tells him it that night when they tumble into bed, and he knows he'll tell him every day of the rest of their lives, because the next morning he wakes up, still sex-flushed and happy, and finally knows exactly how Jimin's song began.
So he tells it to the piano, the story of their love, and it's the first thing in his life that has ever been fully complete.
When Jimin listens to him play it, quiet and solemn, Yoongi feels as though he's flying. And when Jimin finally dances to it, in the place that they share, he's all motion and stillness, darkness and light, the closed, balanced circuit that is only them.
And Yoongi knows that he is home.