Now this was a whole new level of nervous.

Of course, as if just to torture Jimin, Yoongi claimed he had to "step away from his phone" right after that little message of his, and he never returned to elaborate. And so Jimin was left to suffer as his heart dropped and his mind spun into a panic.

" 'We're gonna talk about boys' ??"

It sounded like such a teenage-girl thing to say, something he probably heard his sister Eunjin say at some point to her friend, who Jimin wouldn't doubt had been intimidated by both his and Jihyun's outward demeanor—the two brothers were nothing like their kind, sweet little sister.

But all that was irrelevant. The point is, those five little words of Yoongi's were giving Jimin serious anxiety. And the fact that Yoongi said, without even asking, that this would happen at his house didn't help ease that anxiety.

It was too much, too sudden. Jimin had only ever been to Namjoon's house before, and sure, he was a boy, but that was so much different. Namjoon was straight, and Jimin's best friend, who he was comfortable around. And Jimin didn't like him.

He didn't like Yoongi either but the butterflies still tried to eat at his stomach. And they must have been hungry because Jimin was starting to feel sick again.

It was only to be expected. Having gone from believing he was fooling everyone with his "tough, straight guy" act to being asked to hang out with the boy he'd spent so long bullying, to talk about the one thing Jimin had avoided most, and that he had never talked about with anyone, not even himself....

...it was a lot to take in, to be brief.

And it certainly took its time dwelling on poor Jimin's restless mind.

Jimin went to school the next day already knowing he wouldn't be able to focus. And he was right. Even on the walk to school, his brain kept reminding him of Yoongi's text message and did all that it could to keep that sickness in Jimin's gut.

It was stupid. He hated it. Why did he have to make this such a big deal? Because it is a big deal, his conscience told him, you're taking steps forward.

Yeah, towards the pastel boy's house, he shouted back at it. Oh, my gosh, I'm losing my mind.

His lack of focus earned him several stern warnings from his teachers, as well as more concerned comments from his friend that weren't at all helpful.

"You're back to looking seasick on dry land, ChimChim." Jimin pouted at him and Namjoon laughed. "What happened this time?"

"Nothing," Jimin blurted. "Nothing, and it's none of your business."

" 'It's none of your business' implies that there is something."

"Don't you have someone else to bother??"

"Not really." Namjoon shrugged. "Well, I mean I could go over and join Yoongi and his friends agai-"

"Don't."

"Pfft. Okay, so what is it, then?" He put his elbows up on the table and fluttered his eyelashes. Jimin glared at him, but unfortunately couldn't maintain that glare for long as his mind drifted momentarily and softened his tone.

"He...invited me over his house."

"Okay, no, but really-"

"Do you want me to show you the text?"

Namjoon was nonplussed. For starters, he didn't expect Jimin to actually tell him what was up, and secondly the answer he received was not at all what he thought he'd hear. He knew it had to do with the pastel boy, but this just seemed absurd, given the boy's and Jimin's history.

With an approving nod from his friend, Jimin took out his phone and brought up the short conversation he'd had with Yoongi the night before.

Namjoon read it. And laughed out loud.

And Jimin, blushing, smacked Namjoon upside the head.

"This is why I hate you, and you'll never find love."

"Ow." Laughter still spilling out his mouth, Namjoon wiped away an imaginary teardrop and struggled to look Jimin in the eye without laughing again. "I'm—ah, c'mon, Chim, I didn't mean it to be spiteful." He pursed his lips in a failed attempt to conceal a grin. "Just—I mean, so this is why you've been off today? Oh, my gosh this is golden. The boy you bullied and insisted you hated with the fire of a thousand suns is now asking you to face your sexuality and talk about bo—wait, why am I laughing, this could be good for you."

At that moment, seemingly out of nowhere, one of Jimin's female classmates shyly approached his table, and Namjoon held his breath as she tried to muster up the courage to speak.

"I-I'm sorry, I'm probably interrupting you, I just wanted to ask you, Jimin, if you had plans after school today?"

And that question alone triggered Namjoon's laughter again, full-force. He didn't mean to offend the girl, in any way, but the wording of her question, and the timing, oh, the sweet, ironic timing...

Jimin clenched his fists and tried not to think about legitimately murdering his only friend.

"Sorry," he said through gritted teeth, all the while still looking daggers at Namjoon, "I do have plans."

The girl apologized, too, and went on her way.

"My sides are splitting, ChimChim, you're killing me here, man."

"Die, then."

▫️▫️▫️

And so after what seemed like an eternity and a half, the end of the school day arrived and the anxiety Jimin had managed to partially stow away came back out into the open.

pastel boy:
xxxx xxxxxx xxxx
^ my address, whenever u feel like stopping by is fine, right after school or in the evening, doesn't matter

Jimin swallowed his breath. Distracted by his frantically beating heart, he failed to notice Namjoon hovering over him, reading the message.

"Ooh, he wasn't kidding. This is exciting."

Startled, Jimin swung his fist around and nearly socked his friend in the face.

"Holy crap. Relax, Chim."

"Don't tell me what to do." Flustered, Jimin shoved his phone into the back pocket of his jeans, then his hands into his front pockets. Namjoon watched his friend's face for a moment.

"...no, I'm serious, Chim," he said in a sympathetic tone. "I would hope you'd be excited about this. But you look like you're dreading it."

"...not dreading it. I'm just...really freaking nervous."

Namjoon smiled, letting out a soft breath through his nose. "You'll be fine," he said reassuringly. "It's not like you're being asked to scream 'I'm gay' on the rooftops. This could be fun for you. Turn the word 'nervous' into 'excited', okay?"

He thought about it.

I'm just...really freaking excited.

▫️▫️▫️

It didn't work. Well, maybe for a short time, but the moment Jimin arrived at Yoongi's front door, he became anything but excited. He wanted to turn around and march right back to his house, up the stairs and into his room where he could sleep and pretend Yoongi never invited him over in the first place. It would be easier that way, right?

Lost in his own thoughts Jimin didn't even register he had just knocked on the door.

He froze in place as it was opened to him. Yoongi was standing there now, still in the same clothes he had worn to school that day—a thick yellow turtleneck and faded blue skinny jeans. His mint green hair was sticking up all over the place, and as if suddenly realizing this, the boy began to pat it down, sighing.

"Hat hair, I was wearing a beanie just a minute ago." He took a step back into the house. "C'mon inside, it's freezing out there."

Even with Yoongi's friendly invitation Jimin was still tentative to step over that little barrier that lay between the outdoors and the pastel boy's house. Yes, he was aware he was being quite dramatic, and no, didn't care.

Eventually he went inside and closed the door behind him.

"You can leave your shoes and coat by the door," Yoongi said, which for some reason caught Jimin off guard. "Y-...is that really all you wore? That jacket can't possibly be warm."

It wasn't. He wore it because his brother had given it to him, and it matched the rest of his dark wardrobe. But Jimin didn't say that, he simply slipped out of the leather jacket and hung it on one of the empty hooks beside the door. Next he took off his boots and lined them up underneath his jacket.

"A short-sleeved shirt, too. Man, you're crazy."

Jimin frowned. "Did you really invite me over just to make fun of me?"

"Not at all." Yoongi stifled a laugh as he made his way over to the kitchen, which was the room adjacent to the front door. "So are you hungry?"

Jimin didn't answer. Because at that moment he became more aware of his heartbeat, more specifically how fast it was, and because of how quiet it was in the house, he swore he could hear it, too.

"...Jimin, you don't need to be so tense," the boy heard Yoongi say softly, tearing him from his daze. "My mom's out shopping, and my dad and my sister are both working, there's no one else home. So relax, alright?"

Oh, so we're here alone, then. Yeah, that totally helps.

"So are you?"

"What, nervous?" Jimin blurted. Yoongi snorted.

"No, I meant hungry."

Jimin turned his head down and blushed. "Uh, n-no, I-I'm alright."

"Are you? Your cheeks are red."

"You really did invite me over just to make fun of me."

It took a lot of self-control not to laugh at Jimin, but somehow Yoongi managed to hold it back as he once again shook his head from side to side. "No, I'm sorry, Jimin. I'm not trying to make fun of you, I swear, that's not why I asked to come over." Following this statement, Yoongi raised his arms to open an overhead cabinet—he had to stand on his tiptoes, because he, like Jimin, was rather short, and no, Jimin did not at all find the pastel boy's minor struggle cute—where he retrieved a box of snack crackers. Then he closed the cabinet and made his way over to Jimin.

"So where'd you wanna talk? Living room or my room?"

"I'm sorry?"

Yoongi deadpanned. "What was confusing about my question?" He directed Jimin's attention to the living room, which was right across from the kitchen. "There's a comfy sofa in there we can sit on, or my room is fine, too, I mean it's not that spacious but there's enough room on the bed and the floor for us both to sit. It really doesn't matter to me, that's why I'm asking you."

"It...doesn't matter to me, either."

"...are you sure you're feeling alright? Jimin, I don't wanna feel like I'm forcing you into this. You can be honest with me."

"You'd laugh at me if I told you I was nervous."

"I wouldn't, but that's cute. C'mon, let's just go sit on the sofa."

What?

Unable to find the right words to say—or any words at all, rather—Jimin soon found himself slowly following in Yoongi's footsteps as the boy led him to the navy blue sofa in the other room. There, the mint-haired boy took a seat, shifting his position to sit cross-legged and he urged Jimin to do the same.

In a matter of seconds, the two were sitting close together, facing each other. Jimin felt his cheeks grow warm.

"This is refreshing," Yoongi said. "This side of you, I mean."

Jimin looked away. "I still don't get it."

"Hm?"

"Why you're acting so casually around me. It doesn't make any sense." Suddenly finding himself overwhelmed with frustration, Jimin furrowed his brow and raised his head to gaze intensely at Yoongi. "You gotta slap me across the face or something, I can't deal with this, it's s-"

Yoongi did just that. Without batting an eye. Unfazed. But Jimin was fazed. And he felt the stinging sensation of Yoongi's hand on his cheek linger as Yoongi continued.

"There. We're good now, right? No more questions, I already explained earlier, Jimin. I've been where you are, I know it sucks, and I'm helping you, so shut up about it already so we can talk about what I invited you over here to talk about."

"...boys?"

"Yes. Boys." Yoongi smiled, big and wide. A little bit of his gums showed.

Oh, no. No, no. He's really cute. He's really, really cute.

"So, tell me, Jimin, who do you think is the cutest boy in school?"

"You."

Oh, f***.

*

*

a/n:
☺️