there’s no star in heaven but the light that you bring ㅣshort yoonmin
A/N: omg guys thank you so so much for over 200 notes on cravings like holy shit i didn’t expect that to attract that much attention <3 <3
so as a thank you present, I present to you the introduction of a new fic i’m working on. It’s mainly taekook but the intro is yoonmin <3
enjoy and thank you once again lovelies!
Yoongi scrubs his hand over his eyes, taking a momentary reprieve from the harsh fluorescent light of the supermarket before he resumes glaring at the rows and rows of brightly packaged lollies.
It was about eight o’ clock at night, and Yoongi was running late; really, really late for an important event. He wasn’t a particularly patient person as a matter of fact, and the mere action of standing in front of a supermarket shelf trying in vain to pick the right type of confectionery was not his idea of a great Saturday evening.
He’s still deciding between butterscotch candies and a rather garish looking packet of lolly snakes when there’s a ping in his right pocket.
hey hyung, you still coming over?
Yoongi curses, typing a hasty reply that doesn’t reveal how utterly useless he is at keeping the time.
of course, there’s just a shitload of traffic rn. i’m only ten mins away though.
Another soft ping announces the reply. cool, drive safely hyung <3
:)
After he stows his phone away, Yoongi stands there for another two minutes before declaring ‘fuck all’ and grabbing the lolly snakes, striding down the aisle.
He throws the packet unceremoniously onto the counter, tapping his foot impatiently as the clerk scans the item, and punches in the numbers at the pace of a college student the morning after. When he’s handed the plastic bag with a dull ‘have a nice evening,’ Yoongi grabs it and sprints for what he’s worth to his car outside, leaping into the seat in record time.
‘Fuck fuck fuck,’ he sings, ripping open the package and simultaneously reaching behind him for the white box sitting on the backseat. The lollies end up making the whole thing look like a 5 year old decorating disaster but Yoongi’s too done to care and the box ends up strapped to the seat again as he revs the engine and tears out of the carpark.
By the time he swerves into the apartment parking space, he’s already the allotted 10 minutes late and it’s with a record speed that he jumps out of the car, grabbing the box and dashes up the stairs two at a time. Honestly, it’s the fast he’s run since his mandatory P.E. days.
Apartment 1306. Yoongi fixes his wayward hair and takes a deep breath (because the unwanted cardio was making his heart beat way past normal geez) before knocking. There’s the sound of the door unlocking before a boy peeps his head around, grinning.
‘Yoongi-hyung!’ The boy launches himself into Yoongi’s arms and it’s all the older boy can do to stop the box from toppling out of his hand as he embraces his best friend, chuckling.
‘Hey Jiminnie. Sorry I’m late.’
Jimin looks up at Yoongi, eyes sparkling adoringly and Yoongi’s traitor heart melts. ‘It doesn’t matter. You’re here now right?’ He takes Yoongi’s free hand and leads him inside, closing the door as he goes. ‘I made roast potatoes and steak.’ Only then does the older boy realise that Jimin is wearing an apron that says Kiss the Cook over a fluffy sweater and the whole scene is so domestic that Yoongi has to mentally slap himself before he turns into a pile of gross goo.
‘Shit that sounds amazing.’ And it smells great too. The strong smell of rosemary wafts through the air as Jimin opens the oven and places the tray on the table, shucking off the gloves.
‘You bet your ass it does.’ Jimin nods approvingly at his work and then focuses on Yoongi. ‘What’s that?’
‘Oh this?’ Yoongi looks down at the box in his hand and suddenly an odd feeling of shyness washes over him. ‘It’s um…I uh…’ Wow, maybe you get kudos for trying.
He clears his throat, suddenly aware, suddenly really aware of Jimin’s breathing, of Jimin’s eyes locked on him, just Jimin in general and it was throwing him so much off his game it was terrible.
So with the eloquence of a toddler he just holds out the box, trying not to look as stupid as he felt.
‘Happy Birthday.’
Jimin carefully opens the box and Yoongi has to physically force himself to keep looking at Jimin because dear god his cheeks were so flushed. What if he didn’t like it? Maybe the lollies were obviously a shitty choice. What if he was allergic? What if he thought Yoongi was a complete sap oh my god this was such a bad idea-
‘I- I love it.’ Jimin’s voice is so quiet that Yoongi has a half-mind to think that he actually hates it before Jimin sets down the cake and tackles him into another bone-crushing hug. ‘I love it so much, thank you.’
‘It’s nothing,’ Yoongi says gruffly, patting the soft mop of hair pinned to his chest. ‘C’mon, your roast is getting cold. Let’s eat.’
Jimin takes another peek at the cake, beaming omg you got me lolly snakes that’s so cute/oh shut up there was nothing else on the shelf that looked even remotely appealing or unartificial before putting it into the fridge.
The roast is excellent as per usual. They make small talk, Jimin about his new job as a contemporary dance teacher at the local school, gushing over the little kids and I know I just need the money for housing and tuition fees and shit but I can’t help loving the children they’re just so cute.
Yoongi inserts some stuff about his own life, part-time composer, full time financially-fucked uni student. Same old. He promises to let Jimin onto his newest tracks (even though he knows that he needs to seriously brush up on basically everything before he’d let a single soul listen to his music).
After they’re finished and cleaned up, Yoongi and Jimin find themselves sprawled out on a picnic blanket they’ve spread out on the roof of the apartment. Jimin’s licking the last bit of icing off his fingers, dirty plates stacked next to them as they indulge in star gazing or as Yoongi likes to call it: we’re just eyeballing flaming balls of gas but secretly likes it because well, he’s actually a whipped idiot.
‘Tell me a story,’ says Jimin suddenly. ‘You haven’t told me one in a while.’
‘What kind of story?’
‘Nothing sad. That’s my only requirement.’
‘Well…’ Yoongi thinks hard, creating, pulling apart, putting together.
‘What if I told you that angels were real?’
Jimin immediately jumps to attention, thrumming with subtle excitement at the prospect of a new story. ’They are?’
‘Yup. I mean, apart from the one here right now-‘
Jimin scrunches his nose up in disgust. ’Oh my god that was so gross don’t ever say that again.’
‘I was talking about me.’ Yoongi chuckles as Jimin swats him half-heartedly and then settles back down beside him, staring up at the stars. ‘I’m kidding. But not about angels being real.’
‘Oh really?’ Jimin reaches a hand up, picking out the tiny little glittering dots in the sky. ‘Tell me more.’
‘Well they’re really powerful. And scary.’
‘Thought so. Are they nice?’
‘I don’t really know. To us maybe.’
‘You mean, humans?’
‘Yeah humans.’ Yoongi manages to find a constellation, tracing it with his eyes as he continues to talk. ‘I wouldn’t know though, I never met one.’
‘Has anyone?’
‘Not that I know of. But I know a story about them.’
Jimin props himself up on his elbow, palm squishing his cheek. ‘Go ahead then Hans Christian Anderson. We got all night.’
‘Well-‘ Yoongi cleared his throat and locked onto one particular star shining brightly against the velvet sky.
‘There was once a warrior named Taehyung. He was strong, and brave and the most trusted soldier out of the Heavenly Host. Until he did something unforgivable.’
‘What did he do?’
‘He fell in love.’