Run the Bases
Title: Run the Bases (au)
Author: Dreaminginside
Words: ~3600
Pairings: Yoongi/Jimin
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: Yoongi likes the feel of summer grass beneath his skin.
take me out the the ballgame
third
Yoongi likes the feel of summer grass beneath his skin.
There’s a baseball moon in the sky and he grins as he throws an arm over his face, still cool morning air seeping through his sweat drenched practice uniform. His legs still tingle from the morning run, and he thinks he can hear Seokjin and Namjoon yelling in back and forth in the distance, tensions running high as spring comes to a close and summer begins.
He grins, and breathes deep the thought of tournaments, wonders how far they’ll make it this year.
It’s a good year for last chances, he thinks.
He grunts as a weight lands on his stomach, pushing his back farther into the dew covered grass, moving his arm from his eyes to catch a head of chestnut hair resting on his ribs. He growls halfheartedly as the offending head digs further into his chest, attempting to shove the offending body off to no avail, bright smile all he gets in return.
Jimin is a strange anomaly in Yoongi’s life.
“We’ll win this year,” Jimin mumbles into his stomach, and Yoongi is almost touched at the sentiment for a moment. The kids have come a long way, since he and Hoseok and Namjoon started all this last year. “After all, you’ve got a perfect clean up hitter now”
“Brat,” Yoongi laughs, flicking Jimin in the forehead. Jimin smiles with all his teeth and Yoongi puts his arm back over his eyes, wondering how all this came to be. “Just because I bat fifth now doesn’t mean I’m going to score any less runs. Don’t get cocky now.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Jimin sings, tracing circles on the grass stain above Yoongi’s hip, and Yoongi lets him. Yoongi lets his hand settle in Jimin’s hair, sliding his hands through sweat drenched locks with little care. Jimin sighs and Yoongi feels his heart tug, eyes fluttering shut. He begins to wonder if they’re tracing a rather thin line.
“We’ll go all the way.”
time out
“Yoongi you have to.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“You played in middle school! I know you haven’t forgotten how to hit a ball.”
“Two years gone rusty, you two don’t want me.”
“I’ll put those pictures of you from the maid café on the internet.”
“Jung Hoseok, start running. I am going to kill you.”
first
It starts with three.
Hoseok, Namjoon and him, standing in the center of a much long unused diamond on the first day of the school year. There’s a very short discussion in which end by playing rock paper scissors to decide captain, and thus it becomes Namjoon’s job to find the rest of their team.
Seokjin is dragged, kicking and yelling complaints, when Hoseok recognizes him from middle school league in the crowd of new faces. Hyosang gets caught in with Seokjin’s flailing limbs, and simply smiles from the side as Namjoon uses bargaining strategies to convince the former pitcher to join a just starting team.
Donghyuk catches a wayward ball that comes flying at his head as he walks by and it’s enough to get him forced on the team, and they find out Ikje doesn’t have a bad arm on him. They scramble together enough people to field a team, and Yoongi thinks this is somewhat like a strange dream becoming reality.
He didn’t come here to play ball, and yet here he is on the first game of their high school’s very first season, ball cracking hard against his glove as Hoseok hurls it his way from first.
They practice long and hard and latent talent with their sprinkled in veterans makes victory taste sweeter than the candies that Yoongi’s mom slips in his schoolbag in the mornings. Yoongi wears a gold 7 on his back with pride, and hits enough runs on clean up to know that his middle school years full of practice off the bench weren’t for nothing.
He and Hoseok spend most of their games grinning at each other from across the field, and they get it down to a science to figure out when a runner feels brash enough to steal, Donghyuk following their cues from second. For all of Seokjin’s complaining he follows Namjoon’s signs without fail, and despite being the noisiest pair of all time, they complement each other.
Camaraderie weaves through them like the small grasses that Hoseok has taken to weaving together before practice. He says it’s like them, with that bright smile of his, and that they should probably start folding paper cranes if they want to make it to the finals. Yoongi punches him in the arm, and dares to dream.
In retrospect, Yoongi thinks even a thousand cranes wouldn’t have helped them.
Their final defeat is bitter like the tears that stream down Yoongi’s face, and he can swear he didn’t mean to get this invested in a silly dream three boys thought up at the end of spring. Namjoon gives a rousing speech between barely there sniffles, and Yoongi laughs because this is so like them.
Next year, he says. They’ll all come back and win it all, the summer tournament will be theirs. Yoongi grits his teeth and promises himself this, because lazy as he may be, he doesn’t want to have to watch his friends cry any more.
Tears filled with broken dreams and let down hopes aren’t fitting for them.
...
The dust settles and the off season finds them still close, all but Ikje young enough to be around at least one more year. Hoseok nudges him in the shoulder, and asks him what he thinks the next round of freshman will be like. Maybe they’ll get a good turn out, they did make it rather far.
Yoongi shrugs him off and counts dashes on the ball in his hand instead.
He doubts it.
second
Jimin enters the team like a whirlwind.
He’s on the field the morning training starts, sitting square on the mound and raising an eyebrow when Yoongi approaches. He grins when he declares that he knew they had a hardball club around here somewhere, shouts out his name, and asks where he can get his uniform. Yoongi scoffs, it isn’t exactly hard to join, but Seokjin’s yelling precedes any answer.
There’s a rumor that a certain Park Jimin of the middle school leagues could hit any ball.
“Hit my pitch,” Seokjin crosses his arms over his chest and looks down at the boy with something like curiosity. Yoongi wants to groan, they can use all the members they can get without any bizarre trials. He looks to Namjoon as the others slowly make their way onto the diamond, but their captain simply looks interested. “Hit it, and you’re in.”
Hyosang scoffs and Yoongi knows why. At some point over the break Seokjin figures out his own brand of forkball, there’s a wicked drop to it that Yoongi just isn’t comfortable with, and he’s struck out the whole team with it so far. Jimin just shrugs and smiles brightly, popping off the ground and holding his hand out for a bat. Namjoon sighs and puts on his glove, crouching behind the plate and waiting.
Yoongi pushes Hoseok out to the outfield and sits himself down on the grass. He’d like to watch and see if this kid is in fact all he’s cracked up to be. Donghyuk sits next to him, and they watch as Seokjin throws a warm up.
“Do you think he’ll hit it?” Donghyuk raises and eyebrow and Yoongi shrugs back. He’s picked up Hoseok’s habit of tying grass ends together, and doesn’t look up. There’s a particularly stubborn blade that refuses to bend, and it holds his attention for a moment. “Are we really not letting him in if he strikes out?”
“Hell no,” Yoongi looks up from his little grass lattice and snorts, thinking that there is no way they’re letting anyone with any shred of interest leave. Not when they’re a few members down thanks to graduation. “It’ll just make Seokjin feel better if he can beat this so called legend at his own game.”
Donghyuk wants to reply, he can tell, but he waves his hand as Seokjin takes up his stance. Yoongi is still trying to figure out his secret, so he sets aside his grass and squints close, watching the trajectory as the pitch leaves Seokjin’s hand.
Jimin doesn’t even flinch.
The ball hits Namjoon’s glove with a solid crack and he calls out the strike, Yoongi wondering what Jimin is waiting on as the pitch is thrown back. The sun rises higher in the sky, the morning beginning to break into afternoon heat, and Yoongi wonders if he’s imagining the narrowing of Jimin’s eyes this time.
“He’ll hit it,” A voice says lightly from behind Yoongi’s shoulder, and Yoongi thinks he might have a heart attack. A boy sporting an amused smile sits down next to him, crushing Yoongi’s grass weaves. “He’s figured it out.”
Yoongi grunts and turns back, in time to see the ball come hurtling from Seokjin’s hand. This time Jimin brings his bat forward, eyes glinting as he shuffles forward hands moving to the very end of the handle to give him enough reach to just knick the ball. Seokjin’s eyes widen in surprise, and Hoseok scrambles to catch the ball from his spot behind second, having been throughly not paying attention.
“Does this mean I’m in?”
There’s a moment of silence before Yoongi begins to laugh, full and uncaring at the expression of shock on Seokjin’s face, and Jimin’s eyes meet his for a short moment. Namjoon takes off his glove to properly shake Jimin’s hand, and the boy who was so sure of him turns out to be a boy by the name of Taehyung, whose absolute confidence in Jimin and ability to read ticks and tells of pitchers turn out to be incredibly useful.
Yoongi pushes himself off the ground with minimal effort, and pushes his hand out for Jimin to shake as well. He gives him a grin with all his teeth, and feels something like hope spring from his veins when their hands touch.
“Welcome to the team.”
seventh inning stretch
Jimin takes to following him home. Yoongi can’t say he likes this.
“Don’t you have anything else to do?” Yoongi’s lip twitches as he finds Jimin sitting on the handlebars of his bike for the fourth time that week. Jimin hops off as he reaches to unlock it. They’ve become something of a pair since Jimin stole his spot as clean up hitter, that in itself being a rather large affair. “Go with Taehyung, your house in in his direction.”
Yoongi is only comforted that the centimeter he has on Jimin’s height allows him to hit the real runs, selectively ignoring that Jimin is probably a much better all around hitter than he is. Training camp teaches him this, Taehyung laughing at the both of them as they come to near blows attempting to out fight each other into the position. Namjoon settles it by pushing Yoongi into the ground, cleats pressing into his back as he hands Jimin his uniform.
“I’d rather go with you,” Jimin smiles his dazzling smile and hops on Yoongi’s handlebars again once the bike is free, Yoongi sighing in resignation. “Namjoon did say we should get to know each other better.”
“Namjoon says a lot of things,” Yoongi snorts, remembering the latest speech about teamwork and how Yoongi should stop trying to take Jimin’s head off with the ball when he throws it to him. “Just don’t crash us with your fatass, alright?”
Jimin’s smile simply grows wider as he settles himself and Yoongi begins to pedal. He doesn’t think he needs to get to know much more about Jimin, simply because he thinks he already knows all their is. These nightly bike rides have done much for his Jimin trivia, and he thinks he may even know Jimin’s blood type at this point.
Jimin talks about anything and everything under the sun as Yoongi focuses on them not crashing along the sidewalk as the sky darkens to just the stars and streetlights helping him find his way to his Jimin’s or his house, depending on how he far he wants to bike in one night. Sometimes, they both end up in Yoongi’s room, window open to let in warm summer air as they talk about all manner of things.
Jimin’s favorite thing to talk about is baseball.
The way Jimin’s eyes light up when he talks about stats and gloves and the upcoming tournament is incredible in a way, Yoongi thinks. He’s passionate in a way that Yoongi doesn’t think he himself is, and sometimes he doesn’t feel the need to chime in at all. He simply watches the way Jimin’s eyes reflect the stars and the fire that burns in them on their own. He laughs when Jimin fumbles over his words in his excitement, and punches him in the shoulder when another dig at his inability to read pitches is poked at.
When it’s too late to go back home and Jimin is slumped against Yoongi’s window, he pulls out the spare futon and blanket, arranging the blanket around Jimin’s shoulders. His hand hesitates as he brushes a stray lock away from Jimin’s face, and he wonders if this is the end for him.
He’ll admit it, he might like him. Just a tiny, tiny bit.
home
The last remains of summer grass is warm under Yoongi’s skin as he’s tackled into it.
Jimin brings in three runs to put them over in the bottom of the eighth and Seokjin keeps their opponent at nearly not hits, the one that does make it through caught by Hyosang in right field. Yoongi falls to his knees after they shake hands with their opponents, and he can’t quite believe that they did it.
Seokjin is on him first, and they share matching grins because this is it for them. Everyone else piles on top of them, and suddenly it’s too hard to breathe, Yoongi suffocated under the weight of dreams. He promised himself he wouldn’t cry this time, but he thinks he lets a few slip out under the pretense of joy, summer league trophy in their hands when no one else believed in them.
A hand grabs his in the pile, and Yoongi knows without having to look that it’s Jimin, squeezing back with all his might as they collect themselves for the award ceremonies.
“Are you really crying?” Jimin elbows him in the ribs with a grin and shining eyes, and Yoongi almost pushes him into the dirt above home plate. Almost. Instead he flicks him on the forehead, solid crack sending him into a fit of laughter as Jimin clutches his head. Namjoon kicks him in the shin and it only prompts him to laugh harder, throwing his arms around both their shoulders as they walk.
Hoseok insists on having a commemorative photo, and so they all line up, grins so wide their faces could break in half, faces set in all manner of stupidity. They haul themselves back to the locker room after, and Yoongi just takes a moment to sit, still grinning, before he takes off his uniform and returns to reality.
They stay together as long as possible afterwards, Namjoon’s mother hosting their motley crew for samgyupsal until the moon is high in the sky, spirits and adrenaline still running high. They part ways to go home eventually, and Yoongi isn’t surprised in the least when he finds Jimin on the ground next to his bike, knotted blades of grass sitting on his lap.
“Did Hoseok start rubbing off on you too?” He asks, smiling as he sits down next to him in favor of untying his bike just yet. Jimin shrugs sheepishly, and Yoongi has to wonder what it is that makes it so hard for Jimin to look him in the eyes suddenly. “We won today, don’t look so sad. You’ve still got another two years to keep this streak up. Unless you know any other geniuses who are going to stumble here and take your spot like you did to me.”
Yoongi shoves his shoulder against Jimin’s, but the other boy just crinkles his nose, uncharacteristic shyness piquing Yoongi’s curiosity.
“I don’t really want you to graduate,” Jimin finally says slowly, pulling the knots in his hands tighter and tighter. Yoongi begins to grin as he catches the light pink tint on Jimin’s cheeks, and he thinks about the stars in the sky and how they reflect in Jimin’s eyes, thinks about baseball and victory and dreams and everything in between.
“Park Jimin, are you trying to confess to me right now,” It’s a question that comes out like a statement, and Jimin’s eyes grow to the size of saucers as he actually chokes, grass knots coming apart in his hands.
The look on Jimin’s face says disgust and Yoongi can actually see his mind forming the words I’m not a girl, I wouldn’t do something so girly so he stops them from coming out.
Jimin’s lips are chapped against his, and Yoongi smiles wide as Jimin flails his arms around before settling them on Yoongi’s shoulders. Jimin is all sharp planes and angles, and Yoongi keeps a hand under his jaw, thumb pressing against Jimin’s neck. Yoongi lets his eyes close and pulls back enough to look Jimin in the eyes, lips tasting of summer and stars and the spice of their dinner.
“I accept, despite your spectacular lack of words,” He grins at Jimin as the other boy takes a moment to register before punching him rapidly on the shoulder, declaring him the largest idiot in the history of time. Yoongi simply laughs and thinks he likes this Jimin much better, all fire in his eyes and retorts on his tongue. He kisses him again because he can, and Jimin lets him, flipping off Yoongi’s snapback with a laugh and burying his hands in his hair.
Yoongi nearly crashes the both of them into the river when Jimin decides that kissing and bike riding should go together, but Yoongi doesn’t mind, it would have been worth it. When they fall asleep next to Yoongi’s window that night, Jimin’s head resting on Yoongi’s collar, Yoongi likes to think that the stars twinkle especially for them, all of them.
Sometimes, it’s worth putting your stock in baseball moons and farfetched dreams.
bonus
homerun
The whole team sees he and Seokjin off at graduation.
Yoongi for one is simply amazed that they both even passed their third year, little work getting done when so many tournaments were left to play after their incredible summer win. Seokjin is as equally surprised, but still happy, Hyosang currently hauling him around on his back as Seokjin serenades the team.
Yoongi is simply happy to watch the antics, Seokjin and Namjoon arguing yet again about something, until Taehyung comes up behind him, steering him in Jimin’s direction. The other boy just getting to them from where he’d been seated.
“Hey,” Yoongi grins as Jimin launches himself at him, swinging the younger boy around and letting his cap drop to the ground with little concern. Jimin grins at him so wide that his eyes crinkle, their groups rather off key congratulation song a rather unfitting background.
“Hey,” Jimin mimes, looking Yoongi up and down in his gown and clucking in disapproval, Yoongi snorting in reply. “You actually graduated. Here I was thinking that Donghyuk was going to hack the computers to fail the both of you. Getting by without you two will be interesting.”
“You guys will manage,” Yoongi laughs, because he knows it’s true. Even as much as he rants about them needing him, they really don’t. “Isn’t that Jeon Jeongguk supposed to be something else, anyway? I heard he was coming here.”
“Not the same,” Jimin sighs, but Yoongi can still hear the smile in his voice. He almost hopes that Jeongguk is good enough at hitting to knock Jimin from his spot, and the thought brings a laugh from his throat as Jimin wraps an arm around his neck. “But I guess I can still see you whenever I want.”
It’s a kiss that’s filled with teeth thanks to their inability to stop grinning, but Jimin tastes sweet like that warm summer grass that Yoongi likes so much, and he picks him up to spin around. They nearly fall down when Yoongi underestimates the amount of effort to pick someone up, but any laughter is effectively drowned out by the team’s catcalls. Yoongi groans and pushes Jimin back, glaring in the rest of the group’s direction and stage whispering to a grinning Jimin.
“Quick, we’re going to go get my bike run them all over. We won, we don’t need a team anymore.”
Jimin laughs, and Yoongi grabs his hand as they run off. He doesn’t really think about the future, because right now, right now is pretty perfect to him.
.......
a/n: This is for Kelsey!!! She is very very lovely but also evil because she made me ship this like the dickens oh man. Also this is extremely self indulgent I love baseball I hope everyone else does too! Thank you for reading! :) Comments are appreciated;;
Author: Dreaminginside
Words: ~3600
Pairings: Yoongi/Jimin
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: Yoongi likes the feel of summer grass beneath his skin.
take me out the the ballgame
third
Yoongi likes the feel of summer grass beneath his skin.
There’s a baseball moon in the sky and he grins as he throws an arm over his face, still cool morning air seeping through his sweat drenched practice uniform. His legs still tingle from the morning run, and he thinks he can hear Seokjin and Namjoon yelling in back and forth in the distance, tensions running high as spring comes to a close and summer begins.
He grins, and breathes deep the thought of tournaments, wonders how far they’ll make it this year.
It’s a good year for last chances, he thinks.
He grunts as a weight lands on his stomach, pushing his back farther into the dew covered grass, moving his arm from his eyes to catch a head of chestnut hair resting on his ribs. He growls halfheartedly as the offending head digs further into his chest, attempting to shove the offending body off to no avail, bright smile all he gets in return.
Jimin is a strange anomaly in Yoongi’s life.
“We’ll win this year,” Jimin mumbles into his stomach, and Yoongi is almost touched at the sentiment for a moment. The kids have come a long way, since he and Hoseok and Namjoon started all this last year. “After all, you’ve got a perfect clean up hitter now”
“Brat,” Yoongi laughs, flicking Jimin in the forehead. Jimin smiles with all his teeth and Yoongi puts his arm back over his eyes, wondering how all this came to be. “Just because I bat fifth now doesn’t mean I’m going to score any less runs. Don’t get cocky now.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Jimin sings, tracing circles on the grass stain above Yoongi’s hip, and Yoongi lets him. Yoongi lets his hand settle in Jimin’s hair, sliding his hands through sweat drenched locks with little care. Jimin sighs and Yoongi feels his heart tug, eyes fluttering shut. He begins to wonder if they’re tracing a rather thin line.
“We’ll go all the way.”
time out
“Yoongi you have to.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“You played in middle school! I know you haven’t forgotten how to hit a ball.”
“Two years gone rusty, you two don’t want me.”
“I’ll put those pictures of you from the maid café on the internet.”
“Jung Hoseok, start running. I am going to kill you.”
first
It starts with three.
Hoseok, Namjoon and him, standing in the center of a much long unused diamond on the first day of the school year. There’s a very short discussion in which end by playing rock paper scissors to decide captain, and thus it becomes Namjoon’s job to find the rest of their team.
Seokjin is dragged, kicking and yelling complaints, when Hoseok recognizes him from middle school league in the crowd of new faces. Hyosang gets caught in with Seokjin’s flailing limbs, and simply smiles from the side as Namjoon uses bargaining strategies to convince the former pitcher to join a just starting team.
Donghyuk catches a wayward ball that comes flying at his head as he walks by and it’s enough to get him forced on the team, and they find out Ikje doesn’t have a bad arm on him. They scramble together enough people to field a team, and Yoongi thinks this is somewhat like a strange dream becoming reality.
He didn’t come here to play ball, and yet here he is on the first game of their high school’s very first season, ball cracking hard against his glove as Hoseok hurls it his way from first.
They practice long and hard and latent talent with their sprinkled in veterans makes victory taste sweeter than the candies that Yoongi’s mom slips in his schoolbag in the mornings. Yoongi wears a gold 7 on his back with pride, and hits enough runs on clean up to know that his middle school years full of practice off the bench weren’t for nothing.
He and Hoseok spend most of their games grinning at each other from across the field, and they get it down to a science to figure out when a runner feels brash enough to steal, Donghyuk following their cues from second. For all of Seokjin’s complaining he follows Namjoon’s signs without fail, and despite being the noisiest pair of all time, they complement each other.
Camaraderie weaves through them like the small grasses that Hoseok has taken to weaving together before practice. He says it’s like them, with that bright smile of his, and that they should probably start folding paper cranes if they want to make it to the finals. Yoongi punches him in the arm, and dares to dream.
In retrospect, Yoongi thinks even a thousand cranes wouldn’t have helped them.
Their final defeat is bitter like the tears that stream down Yoongi’s face, and he can swear he didn’t mean to get this invested in a silly dream three boys thought up at the end of spring. Namjoon gives a rousing speech between barely there sniffles, and Yoongi laughs because this is so like them.
Next year, he says. They’ll all come back and win it all, the summer tournament will be theirs. Yoongi grits his teeth and promises himself this, because lazy as he may be, he doesn’t want to have to watch his friends cry any more.
Tears filled with broken dreams and let down hopes aren’t fitting for them.
...
The dust settles and the off season finds them still close, all but Ikje young enough to be around at least one more year. Hoseok nudges him in the shoulder, and asks him what he thinks the next round of freshman will be like. Maybe they’ll get a good turn out, they did make it rather far.
Yoongi shrugs him off and counts dashes on the ball in his hand instead.
He doubts it.
second
Jimin enters the team like a whirlwind.
He’s on the field the morning training starts, sitting square on the mound and raising an eyebrow when Yoongi approaches. He grins when he declares that he knew they had a hardball club around here somewhere, shouts out his name, and asks where he can get his uniform. Yoongi scoffs, it isn’t exactly hard to join, but Seokjin’s yelling precedes any answer.
There’s a rumor that a certain Park Jimin of the middle school leagues could hit any ball.
“Hit my pitch,” Seokjin crosses his arms over his chest and looks down at the boy with something like curiosity. Yoongi wants to groan, they can use all the members they can get without any bizarre trials. He looks to Namjoon as the others slowly make their way onto the diamond, but their captain simply looks interested. “Hit it, and you’re in.”
Hyosang scoffs and Yoongi knows why. At some point over the break Seokjin figures out his own brand of forkball, there’s a wicked drop to it that Yoongi just isn’t comfortable with, and he’s struck out the whole team with it so far. Jimin just shrugs and smiles brightly, popping off the ground and holding his hand out for a bat. Namjoon sighs and puts on his glove, crouching behind the plate and waiting.
Yoongi pushes Hoseok out to the outfield and sits himself down on the grass. He’d like to watch and see if this kid is in fact all he’s cracked up to be. Donghyuk sits next to him, and they watch as Seokjin throws a warm up.
“Do you think he’ll hit it?” Donghyuk raises and eyebrow and Yoongi shrugs back. He’s picked up Hoseok’s habit of tying grass ends together, and doesn’t look up. There’s a particularly stubborn blade that refuses to bend, and it holds his attention for a moment. “Are we really not letting him in if he strikes out?”
“Hell no,” Yoongi looks up from his little grass lattice and snorts, thinking that there is no way they’re letting anyone with any shred of interest leave. Not when they’re a few members down thanks to graduation. “It’ll just make Seokjin feel better if he can beat this so called legend at his own game.”
Donghyuk wants to reply, he can tell, but he waves his hand as Seokjin takes up his stance. Yoongi is still trying to figure out his secret, so he sets aside his grass and squints close, watching the trajectory as the pitch leaves Seokjin’s hand.
Jimin doesn’t even flinch.
The ball hits Namjoon’s glove with a solid crack and he calls out the strike, Yoongi wondering what Jimin is waiting on as the pitch is thrown back. The sun rises higher in the sky, the morning beginning to break into afternoon heat, and Yoongi wonders if he’s imagining the narrowing of Jimin’s eyes this time.
“He’ll hit it,” A voice says lightly from behind Yoongi’s shoulder, and Yoongi thinks he might have a heart attack. A boy sporting an amused smile sits down next to him, crushing Yoongi’s grass weaves. “He’s figured it out.”
Yoongi grunts and turns back, in time to see the ball come hurtling from Seokjin’s hand. This time Jimin brings his bat forward, eyes glinting as he shuffles forward hands moving to the very end of the handle to give him enough reach to just knick the ball. Seokjin’s eyes widen in surprise, and Hoseok scrambles to catch the ball from his spot behind second, having been throughly not paying attention.
“Does this mean I’m in?”
There’s a moment of silence before Yoongi begins to laugh, full and uncaring at the expression of shock on Seokjin’s face, and Jimin’s eyes meet his for a short moment. Namjoon takes off his glove to properly shake Jimin’s hand, and the boy who was so sure of him turns out to be a boy by the name of Taehyung, whose absolute confidence in Jimin and ability to read ticks and tells of pitchers turn out to be incredibly useful.
Yoongi pushes himself off the ground with minimal effort, and pushes his hand out for Jimin to shake as well. He gives him a grin with all his teeth, and feels something like hope spring from his veins when their hands touch.
“Welcome to the team.”
seventh inning stretch
Jimin takes to following him home. Yoongi can’t say he likes this.
“Don’t you have anything else to do?” Yoongi’s lip twitches as he finds Jimin sitting on the handlebars of his bike for the fourth time that week. Jimin hops off as he reaches to unlock it. They’ve become something of a pair since Jimin stole his spot as clean up hitter, that in itself being a rather large affair. “Go with Taehyung, your house in in his direction.”
Yoongi is only comforted that the centimeter he has on Jimin’s height allows him to hit the real runs, selectively ignoring that Jimin is probably a much better all around hitter than he is. Training camp teaches him this, Taehyung laughing at the both of them as they come to near blows attempting to out fight each other into the position. Namjoon settles it by pushing Yoongi into the ground, cleats pressing into his back as he hands Jimin his uniform.
“I’d rather go with you,” Jimin smiles his dazzling smile and hops on Yoongi’s handlebars again once the bike is free, Yoongi sighing in resignation. “Namjoon did say we should get to know each other better.”
“Namjoon says a lot of things,” Yoongi snorts, remembering the latest speech about teamwork and how Yoongi should stop trying to take Jimin’s head off with the ball when he throws it to him. “Just don’t crash us with your fatass, alright?”
Jimin’s smile simply grows wider as he settles himself and Yoongi begins to pedal. He doesn’t think he needs to get to know much more about Jimin, simply because he thinks he already knows all their is. These nightly bike rides have done much for his Jimin trivia, and he thinks he may even know Jimin’s blood type at this point.
Jimin talks about anything and everything under the sun as Yoongi focuses on them not crashing along the sidewalk as the sky darkens to just the stars and streetlights helping him find his way to his Jimin’s or his house, depending on how he far he wants to bike in one night. Sometimes, they both end up in Yoongi’s room, window open to let in warm summer air as they talk about all manner of things.
Jimin’s favorite thing to talk about is baseball.
The way Jimin’s eyes light up when he talks about stats and gloves and the upcoming tournament is incredible in a way, Yoongi thinks. He’s passionate in a way that Yoongi doesn’t think he himself is, and sometimes he doesn’t feel the need to chime in at all. He simply watches the way Jimin’s eyes reflect the stars and the fire that burns in them on their own. He laughs when Jimin fumbles over his words in his excitement, and punches him in the shoulder when another dig at his inability to read pitches is poked at.
When it’s too late to go back home and Jimin is slumped against Yoongi’s window, he pulls out the spare futon and blanket, arranging the blanket around Jimin’s shoulders. His hand hesitates as he brushes a stray lock away from Jimin’s face, and he wonders if this is the end for him.
He’ll admit it, he might like him. Just a tiny, tiny bit.
home
The last remains of summer grass is warm under Yoongi’s skin as he’s tackled into it.
Jimin brings in three runs to put them over in the bottom of the eighth and Seokjin keeps their opponent at nearly not hits, the one that does make it through caught by Hyosang in right field. Yoongi falls to his knees after they shake hands with their opponents, and he can’t quite believe that they did it.
Seokjin is on him first, and they share matching grins because this is it for them. Everyone else piles on top of them, and suddenly it’s too hard to breathe, Yoongi suffocated under the weight of dreams. He promised himself he wouldn’t cry this time, but he thinks he lets a few slip out under the pretense of joy, summer league trophy in their hands when no one else believed in them.
A hand grabs his in the pile, and Yoongi knows without having to look that it’s Jimin, squeezing back with all his might as they collect themselves for the award ceremonies.
“Are you really crying?” Jimin elbows him in the ribs with a grin and shining eyes, and Yoongi almost pushes him into the dirt above home plate. Almost. Instead he flicks him on the forehead, solid crack sending him into a fit of laughter as Jimin clutches his head. Namjoon kicks him in the shin and it only prompts him to laugh harder, throwing his arms around both their shoulders as they walk.
Hoseok insists on having a commemorative photo, and so they all line up, grins so wide their faces could break in half, faces set in all manner of stupidity. They haul themselves back to the locker room after, and Yoongi just takes a moment to sit, still grinning, before he takes off his uniform and returns to reality.
They stay together as long as possible afterwards, Namjoon’s mother hosting their motley crew for samgyupsal until the moon is high in the sky, spirits and adrenaline still running high. They part ways to go home eventually, and Yoongi isn’t surprised in the least when he finds Jimin on the ground next to his bike, knotted blades of grass sitting on his lap.
“Did Hoseok start rubbing off on you too?” He asks, smiling as he sits down next to him in favor of untying his bike just yet. Jimin shrugs sheepishly, and Yoongi has to wonder what it is that makes it so hard for Jimin to look him in the eyes suddenly. “We won today, don’t look so sad. You’ve still got another two years to keep this streak up. Unless you know any other geniuses who are going to stumble here and take your spot like you did to me.”
Yoongi shoves his shoulder against Jimin’s, but the other boy just crinkles his nose, uncharacteristic shyness piquing Yoongi’s curiosity.
“I don’t really want you to graduate,” Jimin finally says slowly, pulling the knots in his hands tighter and tighter. Yoongi begins to grin as he catches the light pink tint on Jimin’s cheeks, and he thinks about the stars in the sky and how they reflect in Jimin’s eyes, thinks about baseball and victory and dreams and everything in between.
“Park Jimin, are you trying to confess to me right now,” It’s a question that comes out like a statement, and Jimin’s eyes grow to the size of saucers as he actually chokes, grass knots coming apart in his hands.
The look on Jimin’s face says disgust and Yoongi can actually see his mind forming the words I’m not a girl, I wouldn’t do something so girly so he stops them from coming out.
Jimin’s lips are chapped against his, and Yoongi smiles wide as Jimin flails his arms around before settling them on Yoongi’s shoulders. Jimin is all sharp planes and angles, and Yoongi keeps a hand under his jaw, thumb pressing against Jimin’s neck. Yoongi lets his eyes close and pulls back enough to look Jimin in the eyes, lips tasting of summer and stars and the spice of their dinner.
“I accept, despite your spectacular lack of words,” He grins at Jimin as the other boy takes a moment to register before punching him rapidly on the shoulder, declaring him the largest idiot in the history of time. Yoongi simply laughs and thinks he likes this Jimin much better, all fire in his eyes and retorts on his tongue. He kisses him again because he can, and Jimin lets him, flipping off Yoongi’s snapback with a laugh and burying his hands in his hair.
Yoongi nearly crashes the both of them into the river when Jimin decides that kissing and bike riding should go together, but Yoongi doesn’t mind, it would have been worth it. When they fall asleep next to Yoongi’s window that night, Jimin’s head resting on Yoongi’s collar, Yoongi likes to think that the stars twinkle especially for them, all of them.
Sometimes, it’s worth putting your stock in baseball moons and farfetched dreams.
bonus
homerun
The whole team sees he and Seokjin off at graduation.
Yoongi for one is simply amazed that they both even passed their third year, little work getting done when so many tournaments were left to play after their incredible summer win. Seokjin is as equally surprised, but still happy, Hyosang currently hauling him around on his back as Seokjin serenades the team.
Yoongi is simply happy to watch the antics, Seokjin and Namjoon arguing yet again about something, until Taehyung comes up behind him, steering him in Jimin’s direction. The other boy just getting to them from where he’d been seated.
“Hey,” Yoongi grins as Jimin launches himself at him, swinging the younger boy around and letting his cap drop to the ground with little concern. Jimin grins at him so wide that his eyes crinkle, their groups rather off key congratulation song a rather unfitting background.
“Hey,” Jimin mimes, looking Yoongi up and down in his gown and clucking in disapproval, Yoongi snorting in reply. “You actually graduated. Here I was thinking that Donghyuk was going to hack the computers to fail the both of you. Getting by without you two will be interesting.”
“You guys will manage,” Yoongi laughs, because he knows it’s true. Even as much as he rants about them needing him, they really don’t. “Isn’t that Jeon Jeongguk supposed to be something else, anyway? I heard he was coming here.”
“Not the same,” Jimin sighs, but Yoongi can still hear the smile in his voice. He almost hopes that Jeongguk is good enough at hitting to knock Jimin from his spot, and the thought brings a laugh from his throat as Jimin wraps an arm around his neck. “But I guess I can still see you whenever I want.”
It’s a kiss that’s filled with teeth thanks to their inability to stop grinning, but Jimin tastes sweet like that warm summer grass that Yoongi likes so much, and he picks him up to spin around. They nearly fall down when Yoongi underestimates the amount of effort to pick someone up, but any laughter is effectively drowned out by the team’s catcalls. Yoongi groans and pushes Jimin back, glaring in the rest of the group’s direction and stage whispering to a grinning Jimin.
“Quick, we’re going to go get my bike run them all over. We won, we don’t need a team anymore.”
Jimin laughs, and Yoongi grabs his hand as they run off. He doesn’t really think about the future, because right now, right now is pretty perfect to him.
.......
a/n: This is for Kelsey!!! She is very very lovely but also evil because she made me ship this like the dickens oh man. Also this is extremely self indulgent I love baseball I hope everyone else does too! Thank you for reading! :) Comments are appreciated;;