Chapter Text
prompt: baby
He only wanted some flavor in his goddamned broth, goddamn it.
It came out of nowhere, if he were being honest. One moment, he was asking Yoongi to pass him the salt, please, and the next, he had all six pairs of eyes on him, one pair looking more amused than the rest.
It took a while before anyone had gathered his thoughts enough to formulate a single word. It was Taehyung who spoke first, of all people. Jimin looks to the ceiling for guidance from a god he doesn’t believe in, but if it will save him from the inevitable shitstorm that he knows is coming, well, consider him a new believer.
“’Thanks, baby’?” Taehyung exclaims more than asks. He drops his chopsticks in favor of placing both hands on his chest in a display of dramatic offense. What a drama queen. “I thought I was the one you gave nicknames to, Jiminie. I’m hurt.”
“Um,” Jimin says. With all the other members staring at him with wide eyes, he doesn’t think he can make his way out of this one unharmed.
Jeongguk, sweet and innocent Jeongguk, stares at him with wide eyes, then drags his eyes to Yoongi, then back to him again. He looks like his world came crashing down on him with this new revelation. “Is this,” he starts, pointing to Jimin and Yoongi, “why I wake up to creaking noises some nights?”
“Oh my god,” Jimin moans. He covers his face with both of his hands - sure as hell that he’s as red as a tomato. It doesn’t help that Yoongi. Isn’t. Helping. The ass he calls a boyfriend is just sitting there across from him, looking just as red as Jimin is, but not from embarrassment, no. He’s red from how much he’s holding his laughter in.
Jimin, who knows and owns just how petty he could be, kicks Yoongi’s shin underneath the table.
And misses.
And hits Seokjin instead, who immediately reacts, groaning in pain and shooting Jimin a murderous glare.
Fuck. His. Life. Seriously.
Before a war starts on the dinner table, Namjoon - ever the leader and peacemaker - clears his throat to command all of their attention. “Please explain, Jimin and Yoongi…”
With a pointed look from Yoongi, Namjoon reluctantly adds, “…hyung.”
Yoongi rolls his eyes heavenward, and grabs Jimin’s right hand - innocently resting on the dinner table, Jimin in too much shock to move - with his left and intertwines their fingers. With his right, he points to their locked hands.
“Okay, listen up, every one, because I will not repeat this twice, got it?” He demands. When he receives a few reluctant agreements from the rest, he nods in satisfaction.
“Jimin and I are dating. Have been for the last few months. Do any of you,” he looks around, “have a problem with that?”
Silence. Jeongguk shakes his head, as does Taehyung and Hoseok. Soon enough, Seokjin and Namjoon voice their disagreement as well.
“Okay then,” Yoongi says, picking up his chopsticks with his right hand and begins eating again, as if the last ten minutes hadn’t happened. And he’s still holding onto Jimin’s hand. If Jimin wasn’t already as red as his skin would allow, he’s pretty sure he would’ve blushed some more.
(“Baby, huh?”
“Shut up, hyung.”
“Whatever you say, sunshine.”)