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By nature, and by principle, Yoongi is not a shallow person. He gives personality, morality and actions far more weight than he gives looks. He doesn’t believe pretty people should run the world just for being pretty, nor does he ever want himself nor those he loves to succumb to the pressure to be one of those pretty people.
That said, he’s a person, a person lucky enough to have Hoseok as his boyfriend. And Hoseok is beautiful, beautiful in every way a person can be beautiful, and he’d be a fool not to appreciate that, Yoongi thinks.
Hoseok has an excellent face; strong features, good proportions. He has kind eyes, a winning smile. It’s nice to be able to see the way the muscles in Hoseok’s arms tense and twist just right when Yoongi’s got them pinned above his head. It’s nice to grab at his tiny waist, to squeeze at it in his palms and hold Hoseok steady when he’s rutting against him. Hoseok has a tendency to wrap his strong, lean thighs around Yoongi’s waist when they have sex, and it’s nice. Hoseok’s body is nice, and Yoongi loves it. At this point, in fact, there is not one place on Hoseok’s body that Yoongi has not;
(a) licked
(b) bitten
(c) assured Hoseok that he loves and would not change
(d) licked and bitten again to affirm (c)
Yoongi loves Hoseok’s body. In any form it comes.
Hoseok wriggles slightly as Yoongi nips the skin of his tummy and rubs tiny, warm circles into his hip bone. Yoongi likes how the soft skin gives a little under his touch, the way he can see the neat little indents of his teeth against Hoseok’s smooth, tan skin. He’s using one hand to hold Hoseok down by his hips, careful not to push too hard so as to give Hoseok the option of pulling away if he wants to. He’d like him to stay, though, is so fond of the way that Hoseok is staring down at him lying between his spread thighs.
He’s been doing this a lot lately, and though neither has really talked about it much, Yoongi suspects they both know where the need to praise and love Hoseok, particularly in this area, more often than usual has stemmed from. Yoongi has seen him, hitching up his shirt and pinching the skin of his flat, smooth tummy between his fingers and regarding it with a little frown when he thinks Yoongi isn’t looking. He’s noticed, too, the way Hoseok watches Jimin, Seokjin and Jungkook when they work out, an envious glaze over his eyes.
Yoongi gets it, to a point, the want to appear a certain way. Maybe he doesn’t feel as much pressure as Hoseok does, has learnt to accept the roundness of his cheeks, the soft swell of his tummy. But with society the way it is, it’s there. He’s not shallow, but that doesn’t protect him from caring, not all the time, he knows that. Knows that it’s not a conditioning easily undone.
He’s just better at coping with it, he guesses.
“Your shoulders are broader lately,” Hoseok’s comments lazily through giggles as Yoongi sucks another bruising kiss just below his belly button. Yoongi has always loved how sensitive he is.
“Judo,” Yoongi answers to Hoseok’s silent question, regarding the mark he’s left on Hoseok’s skin. He can do better, he thinks before he dives back in.
Hoseok hums. “I like them like that.”
Yoongi rests his chin on Hoseok’s stomach, looking up at him through his fringe. Hoseok’s fingertips brush the hair out of his eyes. “I like your tiny waist better.” Yoongi pinches it for emphasise, kisses the spot just below ribs. “Your soft little tummy.”
Hoseok smiles, cards his fingers through Yoongi’s hair in thanks. For a few moments they’re quiet, the room still but for the sound of Hoseok’s little noises of pleasure as Yoongi caresses him carefully. He’s slow in his worship, gentle and purposeful. He trails a hand slowly up Hoseok’s body, rubs at the little peaks of Hoseok’s nipples as he sucks another mark just above Hoseok’s waistband. He could initiate more, but he’s enjoying himself a little too much to stop, and Hoseok needs this. Something sour has been building this week, Yoongi has sensed it.
He expects the confession that falls from Hoseok’s lips a minute or so later, mostly from the tired, wistful sigh that proceeds it.
“I wish I was stronger.”
Yoongi looks up at him again, regards him carefully, knowing exactly what he means even though he hasn’t said it.
“Abs don’t mean stronger, Seok-Seok-ah,” he answers, plainly, carefully. They’ve been having this conversation more and more lately. He’s not tired of it, per se, just desperately wishes he could figure out how to phrase his thoughts in a way that will change something about the way Hoseok feels about himself.
“I’d look stronger,” Hoseok argues, voice quiet and shy. “People would be more attracted to me.”
“I’m already attracted to you.”
Hoseok huffs. Yoongi bites him.
“Jeongguk and Jiminie have abs,” Hoseok mumbles. “Seokjinnie hyung too, and his shoulders make him look really strong.”
“Well I’m not in love with Jeongguk, Jiminie or hyung, am I?”
Hoseok’s lips quirk up at that. He likes it when Yoongi tells him he loves him, has told him he has a soft spot for hearing the words when they’re paired with Yoongi’s deep, gentle voice.
“You really like it better this way, though?” Hoseok says, reaching down to rub at his stomach. “With no abs? You said muscular guys were your type.”
Yoongi rolls his eyes, nudges Hoseok’s hand away with his nose and rubs it against Hoseok’s tummy once more, lays his cheek against the soft skin. It’s been years since that interview, but it still comes up in the dorm. The guys like to tease about it, and though Yoongi doesn’t much care about their jokes, finds them easy-enough to shrug off, he does worry about how his past words affect Hoseok sometimes.
“You’re my type, dummy,” he says, not for the first time.
Yoongi has built a bank in his head of all of Hoseok’s smiles. He has different smiles, for different occasions. When he’s posing for a photograph his lips are spread thin, sometimes his teeth will show, others they won’t. His laughing smile is wilder, less conscious. His heart-shaped lips rise to show off his perfect, long teeth; it’s a smile that’s infectious in the best way possible.
Then there’s the smile that’s spreading across Hoseok’s lips now, the one that Yoongi is sure will be the death of him someday. It’s softer than the others, a raw, gentle smile, quite unlike the large and shining grins he gives for cameras. There’s something pure about it, often shy and embarrassed, gives him an air of vulnerability. Something to cherish and take care of.
“I’m sorry, hyung. I’m sorry I’ve gotten so obsessed with this lately.”
“Hey, hey,” Yoongi says quickly, getting to his hands and knees and crawling up Hoseok’s body. He cups Hoseok’s face in his hands, pushes their faces together until their foreheads are pushed together. He tilts his head up, kisses the space between Hoseok’s eyes, then tilts it back down to kiss Hoseok’s lips, already pursed from pouting, and rubs their noses together.
“No,” he says softly between them, “don’t be sorry about that, about wanting it, feeling like you have to have it. It’s toxic expectations for men and idols, you know? I don’t blame you for getting sucked into it, I do too sometimes.”
“You’re perfect, hyung. You’re beautiful.”
“That’s you,” Yoongi says with another gentle kiss against Hoseok’s lips. “If you want this, you work for it. I’ll help you, encourage you however you need. But seriously, Hoseok, even if you were the beefiest, broadest guy on the planet, I wouldn’t look at you any differently than the way I’m looking at you right now. I see your heart, you big idiot.”
He pokes Hoseok’s chest. Hoseok giggles under the touch, wraps his arms around Yoongi’s waist and cuddles him close. “Underneath that beautiful body of yours is an even more beautiful heart that I love and cherish.”
“Hyung…”
“Shut up, don’t cry.” Yoongi wipes the dampness on Hoseok’s cheeks. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Yoongi loves Hoseok’s body. In any form it comes.
Just because it’s his.