Archive of Our Own ^beta

Seokjin takes in a deep breath of fresh mountain air, hands on his hips and eyes closed, tipping his head to the sky.

He jumps as a car honks. Yoongi pulls up in their truck behind him and lays on the horn. definitely not necessary. He rolls down the window.

“Get out of the road, idiot,” Yoongi yells, hanging his arm out. Seokjin steps off the gravel inroad, returning a scowl, and allowing Yoongi to pull up to the cabin he’d been dropped off at while Yoongi had gone to get the keys. Once the car stops, Seokjin climbs into the truck bed to grab the plastic tub of their supplies, graciously donated by the company, as Yoongi hefts their bags from the back seat.

This was supposed to be a RUN BTS episode. The seven of them camping in the secluded mountain woods, living it wild, facing the elements, canoeing, fishing, the works, but the week before all but the two of them had gotten sick. So they canceled. Plans had been rescheduled and their bookings lost, but they still had all the supplies so here he and Yoongi are, staying in a condolence cabin for losing their rentals. A normal trip, no cameras, no producers, just the two of them with a big plastic tub of camping supplies and food meant for seven. And a piano.

“Tell me why I agreed to this?” Yoongi asks, carrying his electric keyboard up to the door.

“Tell me why you brought that?” Seokjin says, motioning to the keyboard with his tub.

“Inspiration can happen at any time,” he states. “Tell me why your bag is so heavy?”

“It’s three days, not an overnight crash on a couch!” Seokjin declares, setting down the tub to unlock the front door. It’s painted forest green. the paint is peeling at the corners and he can tell where the sun hits in the afternoon. He curses under his breath as the key sticks. A few tries later, and the door swings open with a dramatic creak. Seokjin pushes the tub forward with his knees and into the dimly lit cabin, Yoongi on his heels.

The room is dusty, the beams of light peeking from the curtains made strikingly visible as particles hover in space. Yoongi coughs, setting his keyboard on a small green and poinsettia red plaid loveseat.

“It’s-” he starts.

“Small?” Seokjin finishes, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” The cabin could be called cozy, both of their arm spans put together could probably cross the width. In the main room to the left, there’s a tiny wooden table in the corner and the couch on the right. Ahead there is a door, presumably the bathroom. Above it is a loft with a wooden railing and Seokjin can see the quilted bed skirts of what looks like two twin beds between the bars.

“Cozy,” Yoongi scoffs, opening the curtains to let some light in. Seokjin looks for a light switch. except there isn’t one. He looks up at the ceiling. Great. Just great. Completely bare. No antlered chandelier, no singular light bulb, nothing. Just yellowing popcorn ceiling.

“Yoongi.”

“Hmm,” he says from the ladder leading to their loft sleeping area.

“There’s no lights,” Seokjin looks around for outlets to his dismay. “No electricity either.”

“Shit,” he hears Yoongi mutter, now sitting and dangling his legs down from the balcony, looking at his phone. Seokjin pulls his out too. 36% battery. Curse you long drives and impulsive girl group sing-alongs.

Also no real signal here. Fun. He takes one last selfie for twitter later, making sure to get Yoongi looking grumpy blurry in the background, before tossing his phone on the couch. He follows, sinking dramatically to the cushion and sighing.

More dust poofs up into the air.

They sit there for a while on their phones, silently agreeing to make the most of their remaining battery life. After maybe two minutes (and/or maybe half an hour) Seokjin suddenly has the urge to jump up and go outside. So he does. Jumping up that is, clapping his hands and scaring Yoongi who yelps and drops his phone. It bounces and hits the wooden floor with a thud.

“The fuck?” he demands, hoping off the ladder to check it for damage.

“Let’s do something! Go outside! Go for a walk!” Seokjin chips, expecting Yoongi to disagree, complain, then lie down and hibernate the whole trip plugged into his keyboard.

“Okay,” Yoongi says instead, leaving his phone on the table and opening the tub of supplies. Seokjin blinks a few times, then kneels down to help.

“We should take lunch,” Seokjin suggests, taking out sunscreen and filling a backpack with an assortment of snacky lunch foods. Yoongi nods and adds his favorites to the growing bag.

Once the backpack is sufficiently filled to the brim with as much food, water and sunscreen they could fit, Yoongi plops on a black bucket hat and they are out the door.

They make it as far as the grass before they stop, Seokjin placing his hands on his hips and looking around at the sprawling woods.

“Where are we going?” Yoongi asks incredulously, raising an eyebrow, his face pale and pasty with sunscreen.

“I have absolutely no idea!” Seokjin states, grabbing the straps of the bag on his back. “Let’s find out.”

Yoongi takes a deep breath and they set out for in nowhere particular.

-

An hour later and Yoongi regrets everything. His choice of clothing in the hot sun, his camping companion, but mostly how much food they had brought. He is carrying the bag now, and it feels like there is a small child on his back. They’d stumbled across a trail and were now climbing steadily higher and higher through the low forested slope.

The trail is rocky, boulders jutting out and forcing them to take extra care not to sprain an ankle. They’d been walking in silence for the most part. Yoongi taking in all the sounds of the forest and Seokjin doing whatever Seokjin does, equally reflective.

They reach a fork in the path. Until now, Seokjin has been just taking whatever path he pleased, with Yoongi simply along for the ride, hoping to get a little exercise, to get some inspiration, but this time Seokjin stops and turns back to face Yoongi.

“Which way?” he gestures to the divided paths. Yoongi hopes Seokjin remembers which way they’d come from otherwise they might be sleeping under the stars. Yoongi looks at his two choices. The path on the right looks the same as what they’d been seeing for a while: trees, rocks, flat terrain. The path on the left looks steeper. Like it is actually going somewhere.

“Left, but we have to stop for a break soon and trade-off,” he states, “or eat some food.” Seokjin looks at a nonexistent watch on his wrist.

“It is getting close to lunchtime,” he says, moving his hand to his stomach. He then leans in to attempt to listen to Yoongi’s stomach. Yoongi swats his head away.

“Oh yes, very hungry,” he smiles, nodding. “A bit grumpy too.” Yoongi starts walking up the path, smiling as soon as his back is turned.

They make it another hundred meters before Seokjin is out of breath carrying the bag. The hill is considerably steeper here, and more exposed to the sun as the treeline thins out. Yoongi is sweating like hell and takes off his hat to fan himself. There is a loud and dramatic oof from somewhere behind him as Seokjin collapses to the ground, sitting on a large rock.

“Just a minute,” he pants, weakly raising a hand. Yoongi sits down next to him and fishes out a water bottle from the bag. Seokjin reaches for it but Yoongi smirks, draining half of it before handing it over. Seokjin rolls his eyes and finishes it off with a loud “ahhh”, smacking his lips.

“Lunchtime?” Yoongi asks.

“Lunchtime,” Seokjin confirms, digging out the food they’d packed.

They eat, significantly lowering the weight of the bag, shoving cheeks full and splashing water over lips.

“How do people do this habitually?” Seokjin asks, mouth full, gesturing at the steep hill that lay ahead.

“I think we have them beat for a weirder career,” Yoongi admits, putting on more sunscreen. Seokjin takes the bottle and applies stripes under his eyes, wagging his eyebrows at Yoongi who rolls his eyes. Seokjin is such a dork. Handsome dork. Seokjin leans to put a dot of white paste on Yoongi’s nose and laughs.

“I had a dream about you last night,” Seokjin says, rubbing in his sunscreen stripes. Strange conversation shift, Yoongi thinks. Seokjin is looking up at the sky. “You, me and Hoseok were spies.” Seokjin strikes a pose, cocking a mock gun. “That’s all I remember. Holly was there. And there was definitely lava.” Yoongi smiles, that wasn't what he was expecting. Seokjin turns to Yoongi and laughs his dorky scratchy laugh. Which makes Yoongi laugh. Stupid laugh.

It’s times like this that Yoongi wants to punch him. In the arm. Sock him in the face. With his mouth. On the lips. Or just roll his eyes. That works too. Seokjin is beautiful in the sunlight. It’s all in the way the rays of mountain light bounce off the smeared sauce on his chin, or the crumbs that fall out when he laughs like that, putting his whole body into it. It’s in the way his eyes smile more than his mouth, under his stuffed cheeks bulging up from lunch. Cheeks he shouldn’t think about too much because, shit- Seokjin was saying something...

“What-?” Yoongi asks.

“Sometimes I miss rooming with you,” Seokjin says, with a reflective smile, wiping the sauce from his face with his arm.

“I don’t.” Yoongi lies. Well not completely, he does like having his own space, but misses Seokjin. Misses a bit of the noise. The company of someone right there at all times. Just sometimes.

“Rude,” Seokjin says teasingly, standing up and shouldering the backpack.

The path levels out for a while as they get closer to the peak of this mini mountain they are apparently scaling. The trees are more spread out now, more coniferous. To their right there is a drop-off. One false step and bangtan sonyeondan might have five members. (Okay, it wasn’t exactly a cliff, more so a steep hill, but Seokjin still feels the need to steady himself by placing his hands on Yoongi’s shoulders.) Every so often he gasps and yelps out a little ah! which does not help Yoongi feel safe. Seokjin’s grip feels more like he is going to toss Yoongi off the mountain at any second, so he brushes his hands off.

“Yoongi! yah, do you want me to die?” he shrieks, inching further from the edge.

“It’s really not that bad, hyung,” Yoongi says, rolling his eyes. Seokjin grabs at his hand, gripping tight.

“Don’t let me fall,” he huffs, moving to his other side, away from the edge.

-

They’d left behind the drop-off, trading it for a quickly thinning forest. Seokjin can practically taste the peak. The funny thing is that Yoongi is still holding his hand. Not that he minds of course. He supposes it is a two-way decision, but Seokjin had let his hand go limp a while ago and it’s Yoongi maintaining the grip, even swinging their hands from time to time. Yoongi is a funny little man, Seokjin thinks and laughs, blowing air out his nose. Yoongi gives him a puzzled look. Seokjin squeezes his hand back and he turns away. Funny indeed.

They must have both been lost in thought, either that or Yoongi is rude and neglected to tell him that there was a dip where the path had been eroded away. So naturally, Seokjin trips and falls into it, Ripping his loose grip from Yoongi’s hand. He falls back on his ass on the hard-packed dirt, hand stinging from taking the impact.

“Don’t you dare laugh,” he manages to say, wiping the dirt on his pants and pointing at Yoongi, but it’s too late. Yoongi’s gums arm out in full display as he cackles. It’s Seokjin’s turn to roll his eyes. “That’s a gazillion won insured ass you’re laughing at,” he warns.

Yoongi offers a hand out and pulls him up. Seokjin bends down to brush the dust from his shins and Yoongi hits his ass. Trying to brush it off, yeah that‘s probably it, but Seokjin, like the dramatic he is, gasps and claps a hand over where his hand made contact. He turns to gape at Yoongi who’s scratching his ear and feigning innocence.

“What?” Yoongi says casually with that shit-eating grin of total innocence he pulls every single time they film a RUN episode. Honestly, what is the point of playing a game if he doesn’t, Seokjin thinks. “Want me to kiss it better?” Yoongi coos.

“Hey!” Seokjin shoots back, “At least I'm not going to complain to our millions of fans,” Seokjin says, thinking back to the time Yoongi whined butt hurt, literally, about his ass on twitter. He reaches out to slap his butt back but Yoongi darts out of the way and starts scurrying up the path.

“Get back here Min Yoongi so I can throw you off this cliff!” Seokjin yells as Yoongi starts to scream his awkward little running scream. He chases after him.

-

Their climb comes to an end as the trail steepens. Rocks are boulders here at the peak. Seokjin could swear the air was thinner. (Shut up, it’s barely even a hill, the logical side of his brain tells him). He hopes this is the peak. Seokjin doesn’t think he could stand the disappointment if it was a false hope.

“Damn rocks,” he hears Yoongi mutter as he climbs up, just as determined to get to the top. Seokjin suppresses the urge to knock him off the rock and clamber up first.

Yoongi gets to the peak of the boulder before him, sitting on the rock presumably taking in the view. with a final step of crumbly sandstone in an area they probably weren't even supposed to be, Seokjin hefts himself up too. And wow. The view was amazing. Not the most miraculous thing he’d ever seen. (He’d flown enough to see the earth from every angle, traveled around the globe and bathed in the twinkle of millions of glowing lights held by shining faces.) and yeah, there are better sights, but wow, trees sure are beautiful.

Green washes an ocean over the valley, with deeper darks of coniferous shadows crashing into the light. Cotton clouds spread high above draped shadows over it all, and being high enough, they could watch as a wave of shadow creeps slowly across the land. Seokjin sat down next to Yoongi on his rock, wondering what he was thinking as he sat with his hands on his chin like that, with his bucket hat tipped low.

“Amazing,” Seokjin breathed, leaning forward on his knees to look over it again.

“Yeah,” Yoongi sighed contentedly. And if only Seokjin had turned to see that Yoongi was looking at him, maybe he might have changed his mind about the view as well.

Alas, overcome with the beauty of the moment, Seokjin does the only reasonable thing and shouts into the void.

“Kim Seok Jin!!” he yells, his name echoing around the tree-lined valley. Yoongi snorts at it, his nose crinkled, but props his hands on Seokjin’s shoulder to stand up and yell as well.

“Min Sugaaaaaaaaaaa!” Yoongi shouts, cupping his hands around his mouth and allowing it echo around the valley until it slowly dies out into the trees below. Seokjin laughs as his voice sounds funny fading into the forest and he stands up too, ready to drop a big one on the unsuspecting trees below.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARMMMMYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!” Seokjin screams in retaliation, letting his admiration for his fans ring around the valley. If this was a movie it’d probably cut out to the whole earth as ARMY rings out into space. He leans back into it, trusting that Yoongi would catch him. Luckily he does, dipping him back as all of his lungs go into that scream. Unfortunately, his lightheadedness prevents him from hearing the echo after. He smiles cutely up at Yoongi holding him in his arms, layering on the aegyo with a cheesy wink as thanks for keeping him upright. Yoongi drops him. Seokjin laughs, catching himself as he nearly dies and falls off a mountain. No biggie.

-

The way back feels hotter. Somehow. The slope is going down, which is kinder to his legs, but Seokjin still is melting in the late fall sun under his sweatshirt. Honestly, neither of them were dressed for the weather. Yoongi must be dead under all his layers of black. Not that it was really that hot out… just clothes, they exist. Their purpose is most likely to stifle everything good in life. Unlike some of the others in the group, Seokjin dresses for comfort, and now, as sweat rolls down his back, he wishes he’d worn a shirt under this sweater.

“Do you know where we are?” Seokjin asks. Yoongi turns to look at him, slouching with the pack on his back.

“No...?” he simply answers, “Please tell me we’re not lost?”

“Psh, no,” Seokjin scoffs. “I just have to pee and I want to know if I can wait.” Yoongi narrows his eyes in a stare. Seokjin smiles a camera perfect smile and winks. Yoongi bows his head back down in defeat.

“Just go in the trees,” he mutters, shaking his head. Fine. No answers to their location. That means they’re lost.

“Ok, I’ll just go over-” Sekojin says starting to sidestep into the trees.

“Yup you do that-” Yoongi chimes back awkwardly, tugging on the backpack straps.

“Be right back-”

“Okay-”

“Okay-”

-

The log, well-- a pile of branches, that Yoongi sits on is uncomfortable as he stares at his feet waiting for Seokjin to finish up in the woods. He picks at the skin around his nail, wishing he could look around to orient himself, but isn’t sure how far Seokjin went and isn’t going to take that risk. There’s a snap as he shifts his weight and one of the decaying branches he sits on crumbles into soggy wood chips. Stupid trees.

“Okay!” Seokjin says, suddenly standing over him and Yoongi accidentally rips a piece of skin from his finger.

“Aish, Hyung. don’t scare me,” Yoongi says, standing and sucking on his bleeding thumb. Seokjin takes the bag and swings it over his shoulder, ignoring him.

“I think I know where we are.” Seokjin looks around. They’d wandered off the path to get to the top and are now in the middle of the scraggly trees. Neither seems to remember which way was home, or even where downhill was. Seokjin bends to grab a large bread loaf sized rock from under a pile of tree needles. He throws it up in the air and Yoongi covers his head in defense, The fuck? They both watch as the rock hits the dirt with a dull thunk and just sits there.

“Oh-,” Seokjin says simply staring down at it with hands limp at his sides. “I thought It’d roll downhill….” He motions around to their area which is suspiciously flat.

“We’re lost,” Yoongi says.

“Well at least you have me,” Seokjin says, framing his face with a coy smile. Does he even remember the cameras aren’t here?

“Stop flirting, I want to sleep in a bed tonight.”

“Oh, a bed-? Ask me out first,” Seokjin says smirking and doing something stupid with his eyebrow. Can Seokjin not make gay jokes right now. Yoongi turns around on his heel in the pine needles and starts marching in the opposite direction of the source of his embarrassment: the idiot responsible for making his heart beat faster in more dumb ways than one.

“Hey!” said idiot yells, jogging after him. “Don't leave your hyungie behind,” He coos, tugging Yoongi in by the waist before walking in step with him (hopefully) downhill. And he’s being this endearing because-?

“Ay, cut it out,” Yoongi grumps, as Seokjin pouts at him as they walk, “Or are you going to come out to the media too? It’s a thrill ride.” Even months later, there still isn’t a day some media outlet isn’t talking about gay idol SUGA. Honestly, this vacation was needed.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-,” Seokjin says, pulling his hand back. Yoongi can hear the tone shift to sincerity. Seokjin avoids his gaze and straightens, stepping briefly into the lead.

“It’s okay,” Yoongi corrects, placing Seokjin’s hand on his waist in a brave move even for him. “It’s you.” Seokjin smiles a small grin, and Yoongi melts a bit.

“You know we’re, I’m, so proud of you, Yoongi,” Seokjin says, taking his hand to squeeze it for a second before letting it drop. “If I go too far with jokes-”

“Ok, now stop that,” Yoongi groans, “You’re sounding like a manager. Jokes are fine. I just like to tease you back.” Seokjin nods, continuing to walk and he can see the cogs turning in his head. Yoongi follows him behind. One day, Seokjin is going to walk off into some lava and Yoongi will follow him right into it.

-

They only walk past the same boulder twice before finding some sort of hope. The sun is getting low, and the bugs buzz abundantly around the burnt-out duo. A while back, Seokjin had spotted a light glinting through the trees and they’d been following it ever since.

Now, as they walk out of the light of the registration desk at the park entrance (how they’d gotten that far was a mystery) and down the gravel road with directions on how to get to their cabin, the darkness is thicker. The conversation had fizzled out a while back. Both of them were aching, tired and ready to eat dinner then collapse in bed.

The steady crunch of gravel underfoot stops and so does Yoongi, turning to see what has happened to his company when he’s blinded by a flash of light. Flinging his hand up over his face, he sees Seokjin grin from under the beam of a flashlight. The yellow light casts an odd shadow on his long face and makes his smile eerie as the tip is perched under his chin.

“How long have you had that?!” Yoongi groans, thinking back to the whole walk in the dark. Seokjin waves the beam around like a lighthouse, illuminating trees, the road and then their cabin not even a hundred yards away. Seokjin shrugs, shouldering his bag again. He puts it back under his chin and purses his lips and wags his eyebrows, making “scary” faces.

“Spooky,” he nods at Yoongi as he continues to make weird faces.

“Very,” Yoongi laughs, motioning with his head they should keep going.

When they finally reach their lodging, it’s quickly discovered that no electricity means A) no stove to cook on B) no hot water. This would be fine if they had gotten back early enough to make an actual fire….

So dinner consists of snacks. They both sit pressed together on the dusty plaid loveseat with a coffee table full of pre-packaged goods and the flashlight standing on end aimed at the ceiling. The light makes the room feel smaller somehow. Intense detail of spiderwebs, odds stains and the intricate patterning of ceiling mud is brought into eerie focus when Yoongi looks up.

“Not the worst meal I’ve ever had,” Seokjin declares as he dumps the crumbs from his bag of chips down his throat to lean back, arm draped over the headrest. Around Yoongi’s shoulders if he wouldn’t have been leaning forward on his knees to dig for an addition to his crappy meal.

“Wait,” Seokjin says suddenly leaning forward to place a hand on Yoongi’s thigh and turn to face him. “No hot water means no hot showers.” Seokjin’s eyes go wide.

It’s going to be a long weekend.

-

They both make an attempt to shower. It’s awkward to say the least. Currently, Yoongi is standing in the tiny (dark) bathroom holding a flashlight over the shower curtain with one hand and brushing his teeth. Seokjin keeps making fucking noises whenever he has to step back into the freezing stream, and complaining about how cold it is, attempting to make conversation. Which presumably is to make the awkward situation less so, but unfortunately Seokjin is failing miserably and it’s only making it ten times worse with every breathy gasp he makes. Yoongi brushes his teeth very loudly tonight.

Why did he even need to shower with light? Yoongi had hopped in, rinsed off the sweat in the dark, gritting his teeth under the cold and was done before Seokjin could even come downstairs. This all could’ve been avoided-

“Yoongi-yah, light!” Seokjin gasps, offended at the creeping darkness. Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut tight, erasing the whining pitch of Seokjin’s voice before it can be burned into his ears and tips the flashlight back down from where it’s been drifting up to illuminate the ceiling. Fuck tall shower rods, in particular, forcing him to stand on tiptoes to reach over the opaque curtain separating a naked Seokjin and him by mere millimeters. Which at this point, Yoongi is too tired and cramped in the wrist to even feel flustered about. He just wants to sleep.

“I neb to spib,” Yoongi says through a mouthful of toothpaste.

“Hm-?” Seokjin hums, the sound of shampoo lathering mingling with his melodic lilt to the questioning.

“I neb to-”

“What-?” Seokjin repeats, ripping back the curtain and poking his soapy head out and scaring Yoongi to death. He fumbles the flashlight between his hands and drops it on his toe before pointing it at Seokjin who closes his eyes at the light.

“What,” Seokjin repeats as Yoongi points to the beam out of his face. Gosh, he really is flawless, even with a blob of foamy soap creeping down his forehead. Yoongi takes the toothbrush from his mouth and motions to the sink. The meaning of the sign language hits Seokjin and he gives a thumbs-up before pulling back the curtain. Yoongi splashes his face with cold water when Seokjin steps from the shower toweled.

-

After Seokjin’s full face routine (Yoongi only bothered with half) both are tucked snug in their covers in the tiny twin beds up in the loft. Yoongi stares, drifting in and out of pre-sleep, at the sloped ceiling that could pose a danger when sitting up too fast. The only real thought on his mind is how cold it is.

Tragically, as has been noted as an inconvenience thousands of times in this single evening, there is no heat in this little bungalow. And unfortunately, the single quilt and sweatshirt just aren’t doing it for Yoongi. Currently curled into as small of a ball he can manage (quite small) with hands tucked between his thighs, he’s still shivering. Downsides of fall: hot during the day, freezing at night.

“Psst-” comes a tiny whisper in the dark. Yoongi pops his head from under his covers to look over at Seokjin.

“What-?” he whispers back, tucking his legs up to his chin and wrapping the blanket around his shoulders. He can make out Seokjin doing the same in the bed across the room.

“I’m cold,” Seokjin whispers. “‘M’ coming over.”

“Wait-” Yoongi starts to say, to declare the bed too small for the both of them, but the mass of blankets in the dark is already upon him, wiggling under the now doubled blankets. Seokjin cuddles up into the pillow acting as if he’s been fast asleep there toasty for hours.

“Well?” Seokjin mutters with a yawn. “Are you going to keep your hyungie warm?” Yoongi scooches down into the blankets. It’s a tiny bed. In no way meant for two, barely enough for a grown man. Seokjin cuddles Yoongi close with his huge pink sweatshirt, wrapping his arms around him so as not to fall off the edge. Yoongi nestles into his larger hyung finally feeling warm. It’s like a shivering sandwich of a cuddly hug. Something so soft and domestic Yoongi would’ve probably died if it had been anyone other than Seokjin. He finds a warm spot near his heart, letting Seokjin curl his chin around the top of his head, pulling the blankets tight around them.

“Mmm, this is what I meant when I said I miss being roommates,” Seokjin mumbles into Yoongi’s hair and Yoongi knows he means it. He hopes Seokjin takes the snuggle closer as a ‘me too’ as they drift off to sleep in the now warm darkness.

-

The birds are loud early in the morning and Seokjin stirs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as their chirps echo in the tiny attic loft. He frowns as the light outside is barely there; it’s too early. Sitting up and minding the ceiling, Seokjin stretches sideways. The first thing he notes is Yoongi. He’s over in the other bed again, must've gotten too small in the night for the both of them.

His back pops at least ten times as he twists the other way. He gives the thin mattress a stink eye before getting up to shake Yoongi awake.

“Hnnnngh nooo,” Yoongi groans into his pillow upon seeing the much too early light. “M’ sleep.”

Seokjin pokes his cheek, although he feels the same way, wanting to just climb back into bed.

He pokes him again.

“What?” Yoongi complains in English, rolling over and giving him a dirty look.

“Fishing,” Seokjin says and Yoongi sighs and stares at the ceiling before getting up out of bed and throwing on a shirt.

-

The surface of the water is quiet. They’ve been sitting in the rowboat for over an hour now and all signs of ripples have disappeared. It’s been an hour of silence as well. The two had gotten ready in tired tandem, handing off the flashlight like a baton and passing bathroom supplies back and forth in a silent dance of habit. Even on the drive to the lake, not much of a word is spoken as they drive listening to the quiet sound of the road under tire.

Yoongi doesn’t mind the silence. In fact, it's one of the things he likes most about Seokjin. That they can just sit like this, the unspoken made known by simply existing. The pull of the oars, the thrum of the insects in the early morning sunrise and the silence of company; the only way to start a day. The sharp cry of a bird rings over the lake interrupting the soft chorus of bullfrogs onshore. The sun is almost fully in the sky and the pink tint to the sunrise has begun to slip into blue.

They sit back to back now, orange life vests from the rental shack squished together in a trusting lean in the wooden canoe. Yoongi has his eyes closed with his head resting back on Seokjin’s nice wide shoulders, letting the feel of the line connect with his hands, relying on sense of touch to signal a catch. So far this morning there’d been nothing. Just the gentle lapping of waves against the boat and bobbing of the lines in the water. Seokjin had reeled his line in twice with false expectations to no catch.

And to be honest, Yoongi doesn’t mind if they don't catch anything. Unlike Seokjin, who fishes for the catch and the competition, for the meal and thrill of the prize, Yoongi just likes the silence. Just the two of them sitting there. A break from the camera shutters, the studio, the loud voices. A chance to spend quiet time with Seokjin.

A quiver ripples up his pole. A micro shutter of movement he wouldn’t have noticed if they had been talking, or anything other than still in the daybreak. The tug comes again. Yoongi leans forward off Seokjin. The other turns to watch. Yoongi puts a finger to his lips but knows he’ll stay quiet in rapt attention.

The line is moving fast now as the fish makes a getaway from their boat. Yoongi can tell Seokjin is anxious beside him, with hands gripping his thighs. He would have started reeling in by now. Yoongi gives the fish a little more length, just a few more seconds, he’s in no hurry. Then, he pulls up. He yanks the pole, stopping the fish in its stride and starts winding up the line. The whir of the gears turning is the only sound as the both of them hold their breath. Yoongi alternates between tugging the pole up and reeling it in, and it's got spunk. But nothing he can’t handle. Seokjin rests an eager supportive hand on his shoulder as the neon bobber gets closer and closer to the boat. 

With a final grunt and tug of the line, Yoongi pulls a fish from the depth. Its silvery fins flash in the new morning sun as he swings the pole over both of their heads and onto the floor. The fish flops sadly on the wood under their feet and Yoongi feels bad for the growl down in his stomach. A warm mug of spicy fish stew in his chilly hands sounds perfect right about now. Seokjin claps him on the shoulder as contrulations when Yoongi bends down to unhook the line from the fish’s lip.

It’s moderately sized, maybe a bit shorter than his forearm, with silver and brown scales that ripple as it drowns in the oxygen filled air. Yoongi holds it in his gloved hands and can feel the chill from the water. In his hands he holds a life. A little cold fish, sides puffing as it struggles to breathe, almost the complete opposite of his warm hands still from steadied practice, yet a life all the same. 

Yoongi smiles for Seokjin as he snaps a picture of him holding his catch on his phone in a plastic bag before sliding his catch back into the lake, as per the park’s fishing policy. With a splash of its tail, the silver disappears back into the green water reflecting the now risen sun. Without saying a word, they shift back into their own positions, recasting lines and settling into that comfortable silence, hyper aware of each other and the sounds of the world around. A gentle kindness that no words could fill, only experienced in the calm reflecting moments of life.

-

Over the course of the next few hours, the pair managed to catch two more fish, proving to be more successful than Seokjin had thought they’d be going into the day. His camera roll was full of selcas he’d taken with his fish until it had overheated in the plastic bag and died.

“I was just too hot for it to handle,” Seokjin says, pursing his lips and pushing his bangs out of his eyes with the back of his gloved hand. 

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s why,” Yoongi laughs, as they begin to row back to shore for lunch. Somehow, despite sitting for hours, Seokjin had worked up quite an appetite. It was all the talk about fish. What he wouldn't give for some fish cake right now. 

They return the rowboat and walk up the long boardwalk to the bait shop perched precariously on the edge of the aging shoreline. Besides selling worms and plastic flies, Seokjin remembers seeing a snack counter. So with masks donned and stomachs empty, the pair rang the bell above the door with hungry expectations. 

“Mmmm. Lunch,” Yoongi said holding up fluffy fly lures and pretending to eat them. He smiles at Seokjin with cheeks puffy under his mask. Seokjin laughs and drags him up to the counter to order food. 

They both end up with fish cakes and soup to go with it. The kind older shop owner was kind enough to throw in a fresh batch in the fryer for them with a wink that Seokjin had returned with a bow. Now they sit outside on the dock, the only people around in the afternoon sun. The warm soup that had sounded good in the chilly morning wasn’t quite necessary now, but still warms his belly. 

“What now?” Seokjin asks, reaching over to dip from the bowl of broth in Yoongi’s lap as their feet dangled over the lake. Yoongi took a second to chew before answering with a shrug. 

“Nap?” he jokes. 

“Too early,” Seokjin says, shaking his head.

“What about those boat thingies we saw walking over here? The ones on the beach?” Yoongi muses, stirring the soup.

“The paddleboards?” Seokjin says, thinking back to what he remembers from the little rental place on the lakeshore. 

“Yeah, those,” Yoongi says through a mouthful. Seokjin nods in agreement before returning to eating and enjoying the view of the lake. He feeds Yoongi bites from his skewer when he runs out first. Because he’s nice like that. Just sitting here on the dock with no plans, toes skimming the cool water as birds flew overhead was such a nice change of pace.

After the last of the soup is sipped and their fish cake sticks clean, they make their way down the shore to try their skill at paddleboarding. 

The woman at the shack gives them a quick rundown of the board, like a surfboard but thicker, with foam on top for sitting and a fabric handle in the center. She lets them store their shoes and bestows upon them each a long paddle, demonstrating how to push through the water while standing. 

This part of the lake was designated for canoeing and paddleboarding, but Seokjin asks the woman if they can swim. She tells them no but as the pair awkwardly drag their paddleboards through the sand to the water, Seokjin winks at Yoongi and whispers they’d just have to accidentally fall in.

It takes some getting used to, but they paddle out to the center of the water on their stomachs, oar in hand. Neither one of them wants to stand up quite yet. The idea of balancing on a board wobbling the water seems impossible to Seokjin.

The water is fairly foggy, a bit green. Teeny bits of tiny green algae or something plant-like float in little clumps on the surface. He almost hates drifting through them and disturbing their perfect blanket over portions of the lake.

The air has gotten warm with the sun now beaming overhead, but not nearly as intense as the day before. Gray clouds drift lazily through the sky and the water must help with the heat. However, despite the sun, Yoongi still wears his endearing swim get-up without a winking camera lens in sight. Today it's slim-fitting black sleeves dangling out from under a very baggy t-shirt as he pulls himself through the water with his hands, not unlike a seal. Under the shirt, just barely peeking out, he has green floral Hawaiian print trunks on. What Seokjin can see, are his swim leggings. While Yoongi may have other names for them that Seokjin has elected to forget, they'll always be leggings to him. Seokjin is convinced Yoongi is either hiding a ripped body under there, although not likely by the twiggy state of his ankles, or some kind of tattoo with how little he shows his skin. Either that or he's a vampire. Maybe just modest. Whatever the reasoning, he's missing out on the warmth of the sun on his back, he muses, closing his eyes and absorbing the light like a gecko under a heat lamp. 

“Hyung, look,” Yoongi says, pointing with his oar at a group of people across the lake on paddleboards of their own. They’re balancing on one leg, doing a sort of yoga. Seokjin looks back at Yoongi, who still has his cheek squished flat on the surface of the board.

“You want to do yoga??!”

“Not me,” he says, voice sounding funny and sleepy in his position, “You should though,” Yoongi waves a hand lazily in Seokjin's direction, rocking his board. He grips it tightly after, with eyes wide.

“You just want to see me fall,” Seokjin huffs, still lying close to the board.

“Can’t be that hard,” Yoongi teases, “It’s just standing,”

“Fine,” Seokjin grumbles and moves carefully to a kneeling position, securing his oar in his armpit. With a wobble, he kneels and holds his arms out for balance. Ok, ok, ok, let’s do this, he assures himself over the laughter of Yoongi. In a most definitely very suave and fluid motion, Seokjin stands up.

“Ha!” he yells, pointing at Yoongi, boasting at his sturdy position on two feet. Unfortunately, that throws his balance off and he’s waving his arms in chaotic circles to keep from tumbling into the water. Before Yoongi can even say anything, Seokjin cuts him off.

“Don’t you dare laugh until you’ve tried,” he crosses his arms in his newfound balance.

“I’m good,” Yoongi assures him, rolling onto his back and folding his hands over his stomach. He closes his eyes delicately and if Seokjin hadn’t been here all along, he would assume he was asleep.

Seokjin tests the paddle, dragging it through the water to see how he can maneuver. It’s surprisingly fast and he makes a quick circle around Yoongi’s board. As he moves the paddle across his board to the other side, water splashes his bare chest. The sun might be hot but the water is not. He looks over at Yoongi.

He looks so peaceful lying there. With his black leggings and dark swim shirt, he is likely warm in the sun. It’d be a shame if he were to get wet. A real shame if someone scooped up an oarful of water and poured it on his chest.

When Yoongi screams it’s music to his ears.

“What the-” he sputters, holding his sopping wet, and likely chilly, shirt away from his chest. “You- you- you’re going to pay!” he squeaks out, sounding no more threatening than a newborn kitten. However, the look on his face is deadly.

“Catch me first,” Seokjin taunts, using his newfound advantage of standing and paddling away. Turning back, he sees Yoongi pull off his soaking shirt, revealing the pale cryptid underneath, and stuffing it under the bungee cords at the end of the board. Seokjin determines he is far enough away and rests his chin the handle of his oar and watches with pleased satisfaction as Yoongi tries to stand.

However, it isn’t nearly as awkward as he expected and his eyes widen as Yoongi is standing in only seconds, looking like a short grumpy ghost. He glances around empty-handed before yelling after Seokjin.

“Asshole! You made me drop my paddle!”

Shit. Seokjin looks at his own, not likely to float, then down the water. Lying somewhere in the depths is Yoongi’s only mode of transportation, something they had rented, and he feels bad for a second. Only for a second, because when he looks up to see Yoongi dropped to lie on his chest and is speeding towards him, powered by pure arm strength. And before he can even say ‘oh wow I should start paddling away’ Yoongi is in front of him splashing like a madman.

The water hits his chest like bullets: cold and stinging, but then it’s over. All it takes is a second to get used to the temperature and he’s bulletproof. With a malicious grin, Seokjin bends down to the surface and scoops handfuls back at Yoongi, dousing his hair and shorts, both of them yelling like idiots. It’s pure chaos and Seokjin loves it.

Yoongi reaches out a hand and grabs the edge of Seokjin’s board and he sees his life flash before his eyes. But Yoongi doesn't tip him off. His death is delayed. Instead, Yoongi pulls himself over so their boards are touching and crawls onto Seokjin's. He prays it can hold them both. (Luckily it does).

“Truce. Truce,” Yoongi pants, sitting on the edge. Seokjin watches from above as he removes the velcro that secures his board to his ankle. (Why didn’t they make one of those for oars??) Was he trying to lose the board as well?? he thinks, but then Yoongi attaches his neon yellow board to Seokjin’s baby blue one and he breathes a sigh of relief.

“Now we’re tied together,” Yoongi states, flopping back to lie with legs dangling in the water and arms spread flat. Seokjin steps over his elbow to the center to maintain balance.

“Like soulmates,” Seokjin jokes, lifting Yoongi’s arm with a toe and letting it flop down with a wet smack.

“Yeah,” Yoongi mutters, eyes closed again, or he assumes so. his wet bangs are coving any sign of eyes at the moment. “Where we off to, captain?”

“Treasure Island!” Seokjin declares raising his oar in a way he absolutely knows a pirate would and begins to paddle them further into the lake.

“Boring. Typical.” Yoongi says, poking Seokjin’s ankle.

“Fine. where are we going, oh trusty first mate?” he asks sarcastically, bowing to lean over Yoongi. He blows his bangs out of his eyes. It takes Yoongi a second to respond as he gapes up at Seokjin like a flustered fish.

“So?... Earth to Yoongi....” Seokjin laughs, waving a hand in front of Yoongi’s wide eyes.

“Uhm,” Yoongi says, clearing his throat and turning away from Seokjin, who straightens up again and continues paddling. “How about Pluto?”

“Pluto it is, first mate!” Seokjin declares (again) and they are off. Seokjin and Yoongi, SUGA and Jin, SIN, the dynamic duo, adventurers off to do… something!

Unfortunately, the lake is only so big and there is only one dock, so there’s pretty much just water to see. Yoongi is still lying with his arms spread and Seokjin thinks it’s cute. Like a cat that’s fallen asleep in the sun.

“You look like Rose from Titanic,” Seokjin laughs, noting the way his arms are spread in a T-shape.

“Maybe I am,” he says back. Yoongi holds up a hand and Seokjin assumes he should take it. When he pulls him standing the board rocks, but they hold onto each other’s shoulders to steady it. Yoongi spreads his arms like he wants Seokjin to hold him tight and whisper into his ear as the water streams by, Titanic style.

Seokjin, never one to turn down a Titanic reenactment, is about the place his hands on Yoongi’s waist when the demon turns and pushes him before Seokjin can even feel what it’s like to be on the other end of the iconic pose.

He flails his arms, but the act’s already done. He hits the lake surface back first, the cool water wrapping him into its embrace. He comes up sputtering, grabbing the edge of the board and spitting a mouthful of water at Yoongi’s feet.

Yoongi is doubled over laughing, clutching his stomach as his little squeaky gremlin laugh rings across the lake. What he doesn’t expect is for Seokjin to retaliate (a stupid plan, really) and before Yoongi can say “Wait, I’m so sorry hyung, I love you’ Seokjin pushes down hard on the edge of the board.

Unfortunately, Seokjin doesn’t plan well either, because Yoongi comes tumbling towards him and smacks, with arms flailing, right on top of a treading Seokjin. They both go under the water, clawing at skin trying to get leverage to break the murky surface.

Seokjin is able to grab the edge of the board with one of his attempts and pushes it in Yoongi’s direction. The other takes it and pulls himself so they’re on opposite sides (how that happens, Seokjin isn’t sure). After a cough, Yoongi lets out a deep breath.

“Didn’t think that through,” he laughs and Seokjin rests his chin on his folded arms. Yoongi does the same, shaking his wet hair out of his face first. The board bobs gently in the waves they’d created in the commotion and their legs hang lazily in water that doesn't feel nearly as cold anymore. “You did say you wanted to fall in.”

Seokjin pouts at that. He can’t argue against himself. 

“Why’d we even rent two if you were just going to take over my board and be lazy?” Seokjin asks.

“Would you have said yes to chauffeuring me around the lake?”

“No,” he admits.

“Exactly,” Yoongi says with a mischievous grin, so Seokjin throws a handful of water at him, doing no damage, but getting the point across.

They float like that for a while, both resting their chins on the board and letting the waves bring the board where it wants. Seokjin could take a nap like this. The chilly water swirling around his legs, the sun on his shoulders and face, the peaceful company of a quiet Yoongi.

“Hey,” Seokjin notes as they drift further into the lake, “The water’s warmer here-” but stops after seeing the suddenly relaxing features on Yoongi’s face and the tiny grin as the corners of his mouth turn up.

“You know what, I think I can make it cold again,” Seokjin muses, placing a finger on his chin.

“No no no, that’s ok!” Yoongi says quickly,

“Ah, wait,” Seokjin laughs, “It just got even warmer. Pity,” he says seeing the disappointed look on Yoongi face.

“Gross,” he grumbles.

“You’re gross first,” Seokjin says, poking Yoongi’s nose. It’s red. “And you’re sunburnt, idiot.” He pokes Yoongi’s cheek for good measure. Squishy. Yoongi presses his palms into his pink cheeks to check.

“We should head back in,” Yoongi says “We have to make a fire still before it’s dark if we don't want to freeze again.” Oh, right.

Yoongi grunts as he struggles to climb back onto the board and Seokjin gives him a hand to pull him up. Yoongi offers a hand in return and Seokjin sits on the edge of the board.

“You’re captaining us back,” he says, presenting the oar over from where he’d strapped it to the bungees in the back of the board earlier. Yoongi sighs and takes it. It’s then Seokjin’s turn to lie in the slowly setting sun as Yoongi paddles them leisurely back to shore.

At the beach, they carry their boards back to the rental shack then apologize and pay for the oar they lost. After a quick toweling off, Seokjin drives (with full heaters on due to their now freezing wet skin) back to their cabin to eat.

-

As the sun sinks below the trees and dips the forest into an inky dark, the temperature drops as well, as they had discovered last night. The chill has Yoongi wrapping his arms close to his body as he dumps a bucket of water on their dying fire from barbeque dinner. With a sizzle and puff of steam lost to the night, their last bit of light traps them in the dark.

But not for long. Seokjin hooks his arm with Yoongi’s, definitely not a tiny bit worried they’d make it to the porch in the dark, and they walk up the little dirt trodden path only meant for one, arm in arm and into the cabin.

Yoongi opens the flaky door with a creak and a nice wave of gentle warmth washes over the pair. The firewood they’d gathered earlier glows neatly in the wood stove in the corner.

“I can’t see shit,” Yoongi grumbles fumbling around in their dimly lit room, muttering about stupid electricity trying to find a flashlight. Seokjin rubs his tired neck, stretches an arm up, loosening his tired muscles and blinks in the dim light after him.

A bright light suddenly makes him flinch and a second later and he frowns, pouting out his lip discontentedly at Yoongi as he lowers the flashlight beam off his face. He blinks the spots out of his eyes with no luck and just wants to crawl into bed.

“Found the light,” Yoongi announces as if it wasn’t obvious. He shines the light around the room. Everything looks different. Spiderwebs on the ceiling invisible before are suddenly illuminated, the shadows of the railing and table harsh, defined in the powerful light beam. Seokjin isn’t scared, but Yoongi probably is. He grabs the hem of his oversized coat and stands a bit closer.

“I’m tired,” Seokjin states, and Yoongi turns to face him, shining the beam in his face again. Seokjin swats it down and Yoongi smiles. Not funny. “I’m just gonna go to sleep,” he says, snatching the flashlight from Yoongi and starting to make his way to the ladder.

“I need that to shower,” Yoongi complains, trying to grab the flashlight back. They both turn to look at the bathroom, its door ajar and pitch-black inside. Seokjin slowly raises the light beam from the floor inside. The faucet’s shadow stretches long and looming across the moldy shower curtain. A moth flies from behind the door. There's a sort of inaudible agreement that passes between them.

“You know what,” Yoongi mutters, turning to the ladder and inching a bit closer to Seokjin, “I don’t need to shower.” Seokjin laughs as he looks at the floor and keeps moving to the ladder with Yoongi by his side. Whose idea was a cabin with no electricity?

Seokjin lets Yoongi climb up first while he shines the beam on the rungs, knowing he’s not entirely sober after wine at dinner. Seokjin follows, holding the light under his chin when he climbs and sets it on the nightstand between their bed, shining up at the tin ceiling. He doesn’t look up, afraid of what he’ll see up in the corners of the rafters and tin.

They both dig quietly through their bags at the feet of their beds and change into pajamas. Seokjin pulls on his striped RJ top and steps carefully across the wooden floor watching for bugs. He stepped on one last night and it was not pleasant. Rolling back the covers neatly, Seokjin tucks himself into the lumpy twin mattress for a second night, able to breathe and stretch out. He nestles his head into the pillow and turns to look over at Yoongi. The other is sitting on his bed not five feet away shirtless in just his plaid pajama pants and frowning at his phone, the glow lighting up his face. Seokjin wonders why with Yoongi he wears so much coverage when they are out on the water, but at home, he only sleeps in that. Also considering how cold it was last night he’s brave. He also wonders how his phone is still alive after two days.

As if on cue the screen turns dark and Yoongi sighs as he tosses it into the pile of clothes on top of his bag. Seokjin rolls onto his side and reaches for the flashlight as Yoongi yanks his blanket over his body. He seems irritated, but that might just be the sleep speaking.

“Ready for lights out?” Seokjin asks, sounding like a scout leader and Yoongi nods, rustling his pillow. Seokjin clicks the flashlight off and they are plunged into darkness once again.

-

Something loud jolts Seokjin straight up into bed and he smacks his forehead against the tin ceiling with a dull thud. Shit. He forgot he wasn’t at home and the sloping ceilings do not help. There’s a sound coming from somewhere. More like everywhere, and it’s loud, but not possibly enough to wake him up. It takes his groggy brain a minute to realize the sound echoing throughout the room was rain. Rain hitting the thin ceiling just inches from his head. Exhausted he flops back into his pillow. He must’ve woken up from thunder. That was it, he tells himself as his eyes adjust to the dark slightly, the ominous shapes of the room somehow worse than absolute darkness.

As he lies in bed trying to go back to sleep, the dark feels heavy. No light from the window, no glitter through the curtains, just a weight pressing from all sides, keeping him flat in bed. It is a darkness unlike the never-sleeping city he’s used to, not quite scary, but unfamiliar. there are so many sounds mingling in the darkness, their sources unidentifiable. Scratching on the walls, wind against the cabin, the rhythmic roar of rain on the roof, Yoongi shifting under the covers, all under the heavy night keeping him stuck in bed and eyes wide awake to stare at nothing.

And Seokjin feels alone.

He isn’t afraid. No. Definitely not. He is a grown man. There is a roll of thunder and he flinches under the covers, sending shivers down his spine. The heavy darkness seems to press down harder on his chest. He rolls over to face the wall.

There’s a shuffling, footsteps creaking on the floorboards. Seokjin sits up, eyes wide trying to see in the dark to no avail, only seeing blurred shapes. Someone is coming right for his bed. He knows it. He’s doomed. The creaks grow louder then stop right next to him. He’s too handsome to die, he thinks as he squeezes his eyes shut with fists balled up in front of his chest.

However, the mental picture of a crazy bearded mountain man with a rusty knife disappears as someone crawls into his tiny bed. Someone small and warm. Yoongi finds his way under the covers and presses Seokjin back against the bed so he can curl up against his chest. Oh.

“It’s just me,” Yoongi whispers.

“Thought you were a murderer,” Seokjin whispers back, his voice sounding too loud.

“Maybe I am,” he teases, snuggling closer. Seokjin is still frozen.

His hair still smells like smoke from the fire, a bit like lake water. He should have taken a shower. But Seokjin isn’t complaining. Much. Thunder rolls again. The dark felt welcoming with Yoongi by his side.

-

Yoongi doesn’t know exactly why he came over. He doesn't have the cold as an excuse. Maybe he was just lonely. Maybe he doesn't want to admit that. Seokjin sighs so softly under his fingers as Yoongi wraps his arms around him to keep from falling off the tiny mattress. Maybe he doesn’t want to admit that he really does want to be in love, no matter what he tells the others. Being cold is fine until you feel warmth. And after last night, Yoongi doesn’t want to be cold ever again. 

Seokjin mutters as he shifts to move so Yoongi could be more on the bed. Yoongi hugs into Seokjin, pretending he is someone else. He sinks into the warmth of a lover. The embrace of someone he could spend his life with. Someone he could kiss when things got sad. Someone who would hold him without things feeling weird. Someone, someone-

And for some reason, Yoongi can’t get Seokjin out of his head. This love, this feeling he craves, wants like a burning addiction, Yoongi directs it all at a mystery lover who breathes a lot like the chest he lies against now. Seokjin runs slow calming circles on his back like days of past when they’d sleep together on anxiety-filled nights. 

Yoongi feels guilt bubble in his stomach. It is isn’t fair to Seokjin; Yoongi holding him soft in his heart. This manifestation of domesticity that Yoongi projects onto him because he’s gay and lonely and Seokjin is beautiful and sweet. But Yoongi can’t help it. Can’t help dreaming up an impossible future where they get to do this every night. It’s not even sexual, not even romantic, just love. Yoongi doesn’t even know how to think around him at times, and can only process it alone at night. When he’s alone under the covers wishing for a hand to hold. So he makes up guys: soft, funny and sweet; broad, a bit ripped and strong, who Yoongi will meet someday. Their faces blank.

But now, Seokjin is here and has an arm draped around Yoongi’s neck. He listens to the soft breathing and the rise and fall of his chest, neither quite asleep yet. Yoongi finds his hands inching up to Seokjin’s neck, running up to touch the tips of his growing-long, dark hair.

“Mm, this is nice,” Yoongi sighs, as Seokjin doesn’t stop him from gently playing with his hair; and did he say that out loud?

“We were roommates, how come we haven’t done this before?” Seokjin wonders aloud after a moment, the whisper of his voice quiet near Yoongi’s neck. ‘this’ meaning many things: sleeping together, cuddling, Yoongi playing with his hair. Yoongi, feeling self-conscious, because yes he did just say that aloud, pulls back, not quite chest to chest anymore. Rather, staring straight into Seokjin’s fluttery sleepy eyes. Shit.

“It would have been weird,” Yoongi mutters, feeling grateful for the darkness. And very gay. 

“S’ not weird,” Seokjin sighs, carefully guiding Yoongi’s hand back to his hair. “Like a massage. Feels good. Jungkookie gives good massages.” Yoongi chucks his heart into a closet at the mere thought of making Seokjin feel good, to slide his fingers back into his hair. This was normal. 

Somehow, incredibly, Yoongi locks his heart in the closet and a blank mask returns to the love. With gentle hands on his back and fingers in Seokjin’s hair, Yoongi falls asleep counting fish that tug on his helpless and lonely line. 

-

Yoongi is breathing softly asleep under the covers. Seokjin knows the rhythm of his sleep. He does for all the members, but Yoongi especially. He sleeps with his mouth open, eyebrows furrowed as if in deep thought. Seokjin thinks about how close they are. How long its been since they’ve slept like this. And he wasn’t lying when he said he missed it. Right now Yoongi lays puffing tiny breaths, centimeters from Seokjin’s lips. Not specifically his lips. He is centimeters from his nose too. And his tongue. He could lick him if he wants. No, wait.

He wants to roll over but even in sleep, Yoongi manages to cling his arms around his neck. For someone so opposed to public physical attention, Yoongi had a clingy nature in sleep Seokjin finds endearing. His scalp tingles from where the other had been playing. He’d twirled his locks into sleep, getting gentler and slower until his fingers had dropped, sending little prickles of something fuzzy right into his brain. 

“He’s drunk,” Seokjin tells himself, stopping his tired brain from jumping to conclusions. 

“Not that drunk,” another, quieter part whispers back. “He obviously likes you.” And all it takes is one tiny thought for Seokjin to feel mortified. He can’t get that one tiny thought out of his head. 

Does Yoongi- ?

Whereas Yoongi’s breathing slows, Seokjin’s heart beats five times as fast at the breath on his neck. He- he’s never felt like this before. Like he is panicking, but safe all the same. Yoongi asleep and yet right there with arms around his neck and face so close and lips right there. 

“Of course he likes you, you’re his teammate and former roommate!”

“Not like that. He’s putting his hands in your hair.”

“Jimin and Taehyung, friends, do that all the time, that means nothing.”

“He’s gay….” Seokjin thinks as a justification and regrets it immediately. What was he doing, really? What was he trying to convince himself of?

Seokjin sure doesn’t know how to feel, what it even feels like to be in love, if he likes Yoongi, if this means he’s gay too, if anything is even real right now, but he does still have that tiny voice that is so curious and wants to lick his nose. Stupid intrusive thoughts. 

The rain continues to pour and Seokjin wants to curl up and pass out. That's all he needs right now. To sleep and pretend like tonight never happened.

Although, some part of his brain tells him to plant a kiss on Yoongi’s forehead before passing out.  

-

Yoongi wakes up on top of Seokjin. The flannel of his pajamas is soft against Yoongi’s chest. He’s pressed against the wall of the room with Seokjin under him, their limbs tangled together and Yoongi wants to just stay there in the embrace, but he needs to move. He has to get going for the day-

Wait. Why? Yoongi realizes there is literally nothing stopping him from going back to sleep. Not a single thing is scheduled. Not a single reasonable reason to get out of this tiny bed just because the sun was up. Judging by the light, it was still early, and as he carefully lays back down to cuddle back into the lumpy mattress and Seokjin’s soft pajama’s Yoongi hopes he can get enough sleep to carry him through the next few comebacks. Like a squirrel, he is determined to stock up impossibly on sleep and savor this moment of bliss, nestled close and encouraged to be lazy. 

Yoongi sinks into the pillow and brushes the bangs from Seokjin’s eyes knowing it won’t wake him. He frowns in his sleep and Yoongi wonders what he’s dreaming about as he lies his head on his shoulder. The rain had stopped sometime in the night, and the dusty air of the cabin feels fresher somehow, even though they were sheltered inside. A new beginning to the day and Yoongi was ready to fall asleep again like this. 

-

Sometime after the noon hour, once they have both woken up, Seokjin makes a stir fry of sorts over the fire with what’s left of their meat, eggs, and vegetables. They’ll have to go out to get more meat for dinner. Apparently, between the two of them, they can eat meat planned for seven. After lunch, Yoongi brings cards out and they play a round of UNO, and then another after Yoongi demands a rematch. (Seokjin wins again). 

Afterward, they head inside and part ways. Yoongi settles down on the couch and Seokjin takes a book outside. Even though it’s just the two of them and there is little chaos to go around, they both understand the desire for some solitude. A bit of time just to yourself. 

Yoongi uses this time to write. He had hoped to play some melodies on his piano, but unfortunately due to unforeseen circumstances that didn’t work out. Instead, now he adds to his fifth notebook of the year filled with lyrics wherein only one page was likely to get used. At this point, writing was almost a therapeutic habit. A brain drain. Not quite a diary, but a place to get shit out of his head. A place to process love, life, youth, his fleeting fame, the pressures of success. Anything he could mold into a platform. Sometimes when he wrote it was for himself. Writing to destress, but most times he kept AMRY in his mind. He thought of them as he jotted down a hook on love, a critique on social norms. He pictured how they would feel listening to this, even if there was no music attached. 

Now he wrote about the forest. The water. The love he’d brought with him. A blossoming under firelight and waves. A secret poem addressed to someone nameless. An unidentifiable “you” any listener could attribute a face to. 

-

Time passes and Yoongi closes the notebook and stretches back on the loveseat. Nothing practically usable is coming, but he’s on break so he isn’t worried. There had been frustrated yelling from Seokjin outside nearly an hour ago that he had definitely not pretended to ignore. Now everything is silent. He cranes his neck to the window to see that Seokjin has stretched a hammock between two trees. Haphazardly at best, but sturdy enough to hold him apparently. He’s sunken into the yellow swing, hiding him completely aside from his toes. Cozy. Tossing his notes onto the table, Yoongi steps out onto the porch and into the sun.

Now he can see that Seokjin is asleep in the hammock, a stripe of shade draped over his nose and eyes. The book he had been reading has fallen onto his chest. His feet are dangling, toe tips just grazing the tops of the grass as the hammock sways gently. From his position with arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe, Yoongi is jealous of the sun. How it lights up his dark hair and makes Seokjin’s skin glow in a way that photos can never capture. Yoongi can hear the summer breeze of his laugh in the sunshine. the laugh in his lips and Yoongi wonders what his laughter tastes like, before pushing the thought away. Instead… instead, he crosses the dying lawn to the hammock strung between the trees.

Yoongi stops for a moment in front of him, looking down for once, and wonders if he should wake him, then crawls in any way. He sits next to him, wincing as the fabric seat rocks. He really doesn't want to wake him up. Yoongi tucks his feet up and rests his head on Seokjin’s sun-soaked chest when he groans and looks around. The book falls to the ground. Yoongi stays put. Seokjin pulls his legs up as well, rolling so they are both tucked up in the fabric and the hammock swallows them whole.

Wrapped inside a cocoon of yellow, Yoongi feels the heat of the sun on his back as Seokjin lies a hand there. The silence of nature, interrupted only by the occasional bird and the swaying of the hammock soon lulls Yoongi to sleep but before he does he thinks that this is it. This is what life was meant for.

-

“Ooh, this one looks nice,” Seokjin says, placing another bottle of alcohol in their basket at the gas station market. 

“Don’t get that one,” Yoongi says from further down the aisle as he browses. 

“You didn’t even see what it was,” Seokjin huffs, putting it back on the shelf. Yoongi walks over with a carton of beers. 

“I didn’t have to look to know what you picked was bad,” Yoongi says, taking the basket from him to add the beer. “It’s a gas station on a lake. None of this is going to be quality. May as well go for this.” Seokjin sighs. The funky looking vodka would have to wait. 

Upon finding out the only store was either a three-hour drive or a half-hour boat ride across a lake, they had taken a boat ride to the store to stock up on meat for dinner. The so-called store had turned out to be a boat refueling station that doubled as a mini convenience store, but it had meat and alcohol so basically they were set. 

“Do we need more ramyeon?” Yoongi asks, wandering down the next aisle. 

“I don’t think so,” Seokjin answers, picking up a package of beef to read the label. 

“Mmkay,” Yoongi hums, coming up behind Seokjin, sliding a hand up his shoulder as he leans over to read it as well. 

“Dinner,” Seokjin declares, setting it in the basket Yoongi carried. They pay for the food and go out to their boat to meet with the driver who’s chatting with the kid running the pump. Seokjin bows a greeting at the two of them before noticing a slide on the end of the dock. He glances over at Yoongi then back at their captain. 

“Can we-?”

“Go ahead!” he waves, with a casual laugh, resuming his conversation with the teen. Yoongi rolls his eyes but is the first to take off his shirt. 

The slide is tiny and Yoongi’s hips get stuck the first time which Seokjin is never going to live down. Soon though, the slide is fully wet and they are like little kids going down this five-foot-tall slide into lake water laughing and competing with dumb things like who can do the weirdest pose as they get launched. The water feels nice and Seokjin could just tread here all afternoon, not wanting to get out into the air which feels chilly now. Yoongi is wearing a bandana and now his blonde hair drips down oddly into his eyes with the soaked black fabric still around his forehead. Shirtless with a bandana is a statement look. 

“We should probably get going,” Seokjin sighs, remembering the meat just sitting in the dock. Yoongi agrees and they climb out and towel off as they walk back to the boat, trying to wring out their trunks before having to sit. The driver waves goodbye to the attendant and meets up with them as they walk to the boat at the end of the dock. 

It’s a fair-sized pontoon. Capable of holding quite a few passengers in the makeshift water taxi. And also capable of going quite fast. Their driver liked to push the limits and Seokjin found himself gripping the plush seat a bit tight on the way over. Yoongi must’ve had his share of white knuckles on the trip as well, because when they bring the groceries aboard, he asks the captain to take it easy on the trip back so they can enjoy the scenery. Seokjin gives Yoongi a thankful look for speaking up before sitting at the head of the boat so he can enjoy the views.

Yoongi sits down next to him on the bench with a huge sigh, sinking back into the faux leather plush and letting out a squish of air from the foamy seat. Before Seokjin can agree by saying ‘long day, huh?’ Yoongi flops sideways like a doll, going limp and resting his head on Seokjin’s shoulder. He’s exhausted too. In a very different way than work. This is heat burn out. The sun beating down into his skin all day and using muscles he hadn’t even knew existed.

The captain starts the engine and the pontoon chugs to life. From the front, bathed in the warm sun and with a hungry stomach, Seokjin sighs and runs a hand through his sticky lake hair. Yoongi shifts uncomfortably, trying to find a spot on his broad boney shoulders.

“Here, lemme adjust,” he offers, nudging Yoongi off his shoulder. Seokjin swings his feet up off the wet boat floor and onto Yoongi’s lap. He gives him the stink eye which Seokjin ignores and pats his lap.

“Naptime,” Yoongi declares, quiet under the roar of the boat, before leaning sideways and draping himself onto Seokjin’s lap. One arm dangles lazily and the other curls up between Seokjin’s thigh and the seat. Yoongi’s soft cheek is pressed into his thigh. Seokjin has an uncomfortable urge to stand up and pull his pushed up trunks down to cover his legs. But Yoongi is comfortable and fast on his way to falling asleep. He somehow looks even more worn than Seokjin feels, so he decides to keep his shorts bunched around his waist.

They sit like that for over an hour on the trip back. The driver must have really gone out of his way to make the trip “scenic”, but he doesn’t mind. They have nowhere to be. Seokjin reclines his legs on Yoongi; Yoongi dead asleep. He watches the scenery go by for a while, but soon the greens and blues of the trees and water become familiar. The sun beating down on his chest, wind blowing his hair back wildly, and the loud hum of the engine start to pull him under. He shifts slightly to get comfy and Yoongi shifts too, muttering as Seokjin lays his head back.

Seokjin drapes his hand over Yoongi’s back to. He’s smart and put his shirt back on and his shorts have started to dry in the sun. Seokjin smooths out the wrinkles of the fabric. Taking his wet towel, he drapes it over his eyes to keep his face cool and free from the sun. In times like this, he wishes he wore hats more often.

The boat continues to rock back and forth as they hit more waves, but Seokjin becomes less and less aware. Sounds turn into heat and all he feels is the sun on his chest. Time blends into sun and darkness as he slips into sleep.

-

“Wake up. We’re here,” Seokjin yells much too loud for Yoongi’s very much still asleep ears.

“Hnggghhh,” he groans, suddenly very much aware that his cheek is stuck to a leg. Seokjin almost pushes him off his lap and Yoongi about yells at him in sleep frustration, before he notes that they are indeed almost at the shore and that a small gathering of people, just dotted specks as of now, is rapidly approaching.

Yoongi peels his face unstuck from his chest. Seokjin swings his legs off Yoongi’s lap and they both scramble to look presentable in the off case they have to look good. Seokjin pulls on a shirt and Yoongi stretches before plopping his bucket hat back on his head. They both dig around in Yoongi’s bag to find masks and snap them on.

“Look!” Seokjin accuses in a whiny tone, sticking out his leg, bunching his shorts up for Yoongi to see. White and pink marks in the shape of hair and a cheek mark his shin. Yoongi smiles but feels his cheeks warm. It’ll fade in a few minutes but it’s funny. Seokjin grumbles under his mask and pulls his trunks back down over his thighs.

Their captain pulls the boat up to the dock and they both bow and thank him profusely for the ride before stepping onto the wooden dock. Seokjin is carrying his shoes, the brave soul. Yoongi, who would rather not get splinters right now, wears his sandals.

The gaggle of people Yoongi had spotted from earlier is just a few tourists gathered at the restaurant, sitting at tables. None of them even give a glance in their direction and he lets out a breath. How would they know they were here?

“Mm, tired. Carry me back,” Yoongi groans, letting himself have a moment to whine in public. He grabs Seokjin’s hand and leans on his shoulder.

“You just slept for hours,” Seokjin pouts back, muffled through his RJ mask, turned inside out. He wonders if he knows. Seokjin has always been a mystery to him, but also the closest to him. If that makes any sense. Despite his protest, Seokjin takes the bag from Yoongi and lets him lean against him as they walk back to the truck. Seokjin only winces slightly on the asphalt.

“Boats make me so tired, I don’t know why,” Yoongi says once they got into the car and buckle up, Seokjin driving.

“You’re always tired,” Seokjin says with a yawn. Yoongi doesn’t reply. The drive goes by fast and soon they are back at their cabin and all of a sudden Yoongi feels disgusting. Like all of the lake water has stained him green and he smells. Seokjin’s hair is ruffled and looking worse for the wear, sticking up in odd places. Yeah, they could both use a hose off. 

Back up in their makeshift bedroom loft, Yoongi digs for clothes and his shower stuff. He sets it at the end of the bed before flopping over and pretending he's not on a boat. Unfortunately, it feels like the bed is still swaying and his stomach rocking with every bounce. He much prefers the trawling, slow boat they normally fish on, or even the rowboat from earlier. For someone who claims he loves fishing, he sure hates speed boats. All he wants to do now is pop in his earbuds and sleep. Also shower. Wash off the gross lake water. With probably more lake water. If they couldn't drink the water here, how clean are their showers?

“Shit!” Yoongi hears Seokjin yell, slightly muffled from below him in the bathroom. Yoongi continues to lie on his bed, arms folded, eyes closed tuning him out with laziness.

“YOONGI!” Seokjin shouts, much louder. God, what does he fucking need that he’s yelling his name from downstairs, across the cabin?

“YOONGI, YOU-” Seokjin yells again, followed by muffled shouts that were likely expletives. There is a creak as the bathroom door opens and Seokjin marches out, his bare feet slapping the floor. Yoongi sighs as he gets out of bed unwillingly to trudge to the railing to see what's- oh god.

As Yoongi peers over the railing and sees Seokjin, his mouth curls up into a grin. Standing below him, wearing just a towel, obviously fresh from his shower, is a strawberry-red sunburnt Seokjin. He has his hands on his hips flashing rosy cheeks and a scowl. But that isn’t the best part, the most ridiculous thing about it is that his chest is only half-burnt, the red burns fading half into pale in the shape of- shit.

“Yoongi, you bitch,” Seokjin laughs, looking down at his chest marked with an unburnt spot clearly in the shape of Yoongi’s head, arms and chest from where he'd been lying earlier on the boat. And he’d put all his money that there is a Yoongi shaped burn on his legs as well.

"Help me put it on," Seokjin says, lobbing a bottle of aloe vera up at Yoongi.

"No! What are we in? An erotic fanfiction? It's your chest, I think you can manage." Yoongi chucks the bottle back down at him. Seokjin catches it and snaps the lid open before walking back to the bathroom. Yoongi climbs down to sit at the tiny table to wait for his turn in the bathroom. He folds his arms and buries his head in them. No phone, no music, just good old fashioned self-entertainment while he waits, most definitely not watching through the open door as Seokjin spreads the cool green gel over his hot skin. Yoongi feels his cheeks against his arms and wonders if maybe he got burnt too.

-

Despite their lack of fire building skills, the pair manage to make a fire for another day and grill meat for dinner. Seokjin adopts the official barbeque dad role, telling bad jokes as he turns the meat with his tongs to a tipsy Yoongi trying not to laugh at how dumb they are. Seokjin cuts up a piece and tosses it from where’s he’s squatting near the fire pit for Yoongi to catch. It was most definitely not a bad throw, Yoongi is just bad at catching and the meat lands on his forehead which sends them both into laughter. 

The sun has gone down by now and the forest has come alive. They are the only people in this clearing and to think hard about all the millions of living insects, mammals and otherwise outnumbering them is a boggling concept, so Seokjin tries not to. 

“The meat’s not crispy enough, hyung,” Yoongi whines with a mouthful when Seokjin feeds him another piece straight from the tongs. 

“You want it burnt?” Seokjin suggests, raising an eyebrow and turning the next batch. 

“Just turn up the heat,” Yoongi says, waving a lazy hand vaguely in his direction.

“It’s a fire,” Seokjin laughs. Yoongi grumbles something before leaning down to grab a bottle. He opens the cap and Seokjin realizes just in time what it is to jumps back as Yoongi sprays lighter fluid into the flames. 

The small fire leaps up into the air, almost to his waist in an orange cloud that most definitely makes the meat crispy. Yoongi stares back from across the fire pit as the flame dies down wide-eyed holding the bottle in an expression that clearly reads ‘I did not know that was going to happen…’ There’s an awkward silence that Seokjin ends by breaking out into the chorus of Fire. (Complete with choreo, of course). Yoongi laughs as Sekojin bends to inspect the meat. Burnt but salvageable. He continues to sing Fire. 

And somehow that’s how a campfire sing-along gets started. Yoongi adding his songs of choice, some girl group classics, and good ol’ oldies. But in the end, it all comes back to their own songs. Seokjin wishes he could’ve brought his guitar. It feels appropriate for the moment as they sit with feet warming as tiny sparks float up into the stars. The fire is starting to die as the night goes on and no care is given to it.

“You know what’d be nice,” Seokjin says, lifting his beer up. “An acoustic album, y’know? All guitar. Singing.” Yoongi starts nodding in agreement which changes into shaking his head. 

“I can’t sing,” he argues. 

“Yes you can,” Seokjin argues back. 

“Not well enough for acoustic covers,” Yoongi laughs. Seokjin doesn’t answer. He’s feeling sappy tonight and arguing wouldn’t be the best idea. 

“How about more philosophy songs? Go deep with this psychological stuff,” Yoongi asks, leaning back into his chair so he’s just shadowy blob out of the fire’s light.

“You and I both know we don’t have a clue what’s going on with all that stuff. ARMYs are the smart ones when it comes to that.”

“Cheers to that,” Yoongi says lifting his beer. 

“How about a sexy concept,” Yoongi adds, laughing. “All sex songs.”

“What does that even mean?” Seokjin asks, shaking his head and taking another drink. Yoongi just chuckles. Seokjin thinks.

“I’m 28 Yoongi, 28!” he sighs after a good moment of reflection, swirling the last of his beer, “And I haven't kissed someone more than an awkward peck. All we sing about is love and it sucks.”

Yoongi raises his glass to that, somehow sinking even lower in his folding chair, head tipped to his chest under his bucket hat. The last of the fire ripples in the form of barely glowing logs, neither of them wanting to add another. The way the embers move like waves against the heated wood is mesmerizing. The two of them don’t speak for a while, just watching. Just listening to the buzz of the forest, taking in the quiet night and sipping on their drinks. Actually, for a moment Seokjin thinks Yoongi's fallen asleep, but then he readjusts and confirms that he isn't totally alone in this world.

“Don't worry about love, hyung,” Yoongi says, offering up wisdom. “I’ve survived this long, I don't need anyone.”

“You're just cold and dead inside,” Seokjin jokes.

“Actually I'm gay and famous,” he says it lightheartedly but Seokjin can hear the twinge of sadness. He looks back into the embers.

“I don't know what I was thinking, believing I could maybe someday get married or something,” Seokjin sighs, trying to hide his disappointment. “When we can’t even date, let alone fit falling in love into our schedules,”

“It's easier than it sounds,” Yoongi mutters quietly, probably to himself but Seokjin hears, before taking a deep swig and finishing off his bottle. Seokjin continues.

“I just want someone to be domestic with, you know? All the cheesy stuff. Wake up in bed, make breakfast. Stay up all night just talking with someone. Kids maybe. A family.”

“Hyung, have you looked at yourself?” Yoongi interrupts. 

“What?”

“The way you stay up with Jungkook playing video games and beat his smug ass into the ground. How you can convince Namjoon to come home from the studio and let him crash with you in bed to stop his nightmares. How you pay attention to Hoseok when he overthinks and know just how to get him smiling. How you drag Taehyung and Jimin back to bed when they fall asleep on the couch. How you used to sit up with me-” Yoongi stops at himself then continues “Hyung, you've made us breakfast on days when you got the least sleep.” Yoongi is sitting up now and leaning forward on his thighs. “If that isn't domestic I don't know what is.” Seokjin can feel himself blushing under the attention. “You might not be in love-love with us but you can't say that we’re not a family.”

Yoongi sinks back into his chair, “But I do know what you mean. Wanting somebody,” he leaves it at that. Seokjin looks back at the fire. If you could call it that. The last glowing log is almost all white ash. The tiny light of the moon now casts most of the light upon their clearing.

Seokjin thinks back to Yoongi, what he said about family. And of course, he is right. He thinks back specifically to the two of them. How Seokjin used to stay up talking his ear off to a silent Yoongi when they first roomed together. How he thought that the other didn't care about what he had to say until he learned that he retained every word, no matter how asleep and ignorant he appeared.

As if Yoongi had read his thoughts, he speaks up.

“Hyung, you've opened up to me like no one else. This sounds stupid, but I miss your midnight rants before bed. Complaining about the day and making lame jokes.” Seokjin ignores the lame part. What’s with campfires and the midnight hour and making people open up? Seokjin feels like he can’t resist the urge to pour out his heart. Maybe it’s the beer. He looks suspiciously at his bottle, then over to the bottles around Yoongi’s chair. Yoongi continues. “You made me feel comfortable sharing with you, with your awkward shy banter and attempts at conversation while we changed clothes.”

This conversion feels years overdue, too late, but Seokjin smiles. It had taken a long arduous journey filled with dumb jokes to get Yoongi to share back. He’d heard him cry himself to sleep many times, but he'll never forget the first time Yoongi crawled into bed with him and told him his fears. A job that Seokjin usually had noticed Yoongi went to Hoseok for. That night, a few years after debut, when Yoongi had opened up about his doubts and anxiety, he told Seokjin everything and let himself cry into his pajamas, Seokjin wiping the snot from his nose.

Yoongi told him a lot of things after that. Then, Seokjin wasn't the only one talking his ear off as they laid sleeplessly on opposite sides of the room after a long day. Yoongi had told him this later, but Seokjin was the first one he came out to. Accidentally, after a bit of drinking and an exhausted roommate, but the conversations the next few nights had been something else. Something deeper.

Now, with global fame, packed schedules their past selves couldn't even dream of, separate rooms, and sleep that came instantly, midnight conversations were an oddity.

“I love you,” Seokjin says, and he’s not sure where it comes from but knows it’s true. He can feel the swelling of his heart. “You know that right?” Yoongi looks beet red flushed from what he can see under his slumped forward frame. He grunts something back.

Seokjin drinks again, playing a little drinking game with himself, gulping down whenever he catches a feeling. He thinks back to last night and nearly drowns.

“You’re so cute,” Seokjin grins, feeling the bottle slip down and almost out of his hand. “We should get married.” Yoongi chokes.

“All of us, you know? Bangtan wedding,” he laughs. Yoongi is still dying coughing. “Then we’d never be lonely.” Yoongi stops choking and goes silent. Seokjin stabs at the dead fire with his poking stick and thinks about love. A sparkle of embers pops, sending a rush of glowing ash to float up into the starry night sky.

The conversation doesn’t continue after that. And eventually, without a fire, the night gets much too chilly. Yoongi is nearing tipsy and looks about ready to pass out right there in his lawn chair. Probably get frostbite on those exposed cheeks.

Seeing as Yoongi is vaguely inebriated, he takes the bucket of water they saved for this exact purpose and dumps it on the fire with a sizzle. After gathering up their bottles to dump in the cooler, Seokjin offers out a hand to help Yoongi up. He’s definitely seen him worse, much worse and chuckles at the thought. Now it's just stumbles and clinginess, that if you didn’t know him well enough, wouldn’t seem that out of place. Yoongi drags his chair through the leaf-covered ground and up onto the porch as they steady each other to the cabin.

Yoongi climbs straight up into bed and Seokjin hears the creak of him face planting into the mattress. Seokjin washes his face and brushes his teeth at least, rinsing the taste of cheap beer away with minty freshness.

He stares at himself in the mirror, not recognizing the person staring back for a moment. The odd light from the flashlight makes his eyes look dark and the shadows underneath longer. He touches his face to make sure it’s real.

Nothing feels genuine now, with life blowing by in a flash. He traces his hands along his jawline, up to his cheeks, around his eyes. All reality is presently is whatever’s in the moment. A tactic that’s kept him sane but oblivious to the future. Something that haunts his past like the shadows creeping up his face. “Wasted,” his mind tells him sometimes. “You wasted your ordinary life, threw away that family,”  it whispers, convincing him that success is false. Seokjin’s hands falter over his lips, brushing across them, before falling to his sides. He clenches them, stopping tears. Shut up, he tells himself and puts on the brightest smile.

Up in the loft, when Seokjin sees Yoongi he loses it. The composure he’d regained falls apart when he sees Yoongi sitting up on his bed as if waiting for him. Just seeing him, and the kind words he had said earlier mixed with high emotions had him falling apart. Forget success, it was the people. The people that made all this worth it. And Yoongi, oh… Seokjin feels a tear drip from his eye. He wipes it away with the back of his hand. Yoongi stands up slowly with a creak of the ancient mattress. He closes his eyes as Yoongi gently and ever so carefully with the perfect touch, wraps his hands around Seokjin in a hug.

Yoongi whispers things Seokjin can't remember but laughs through his tears that are drying. Yoongi is his rock more than he’ll ever know and Seokjin squeezes him back in a silent thanks.

They sit on the bed and Seokjin changes into his pajamas letting Yoongi hold his hand and drag him down to lie together on the bed. Seokjin smiles over at Yoongi, not letting go, wanting to just keep him here.

“You’re so good, hyung,” Yoongi says, barely a whisper. The sound tickles at Seokjin’s heart. The simple statement meaning more than Yoongi could even know.

Seokjin pulls Yoongi into him and under the covers. He crawls into Seokjin’s neck muttering about how good Seokjin is.

“You’re so good, so so good,” Yoongi mouths the words into Seokjin’s neck and it’s different. The way he says it is like life, like pouring life back into him. It feels as if there are hands all over his body, grounding him back into life, pulling him away from his thoughts. But the only two that actually matter right now are Yoongi’s as he brushes Seokjin’s hair from his face. He’s sure he looks like shit, face swollen, eyes puffy and red, yet Yoongi looks at him with love, like the way only bangtan, his family, could ever. Yet this is somehow deeper. He feels the warmth as Yoongi brushes his thumb gently across his cheek.

“You’re so unbelievably good and loved, hyung,” he says again, voice melting with emotion. Seokjin flushes warm and closes his eyes as he melts too, shrinking under the gaze.

Seokjin can feel tears welling in his eyes. Affirming himself was one thing, but this, this is real. Maybe he’s just drunk and emotional.

“Hyung, you’re so good, so beautiful,” Yoongi mutters, looping his hands behind Seokjin’s neck and pulling himself impossibly closer. He closes his eyes as Yoongi curls into his neck, Seokjin holding him there with hands on his back under the warm covers. He wants to giggle at the tickle of hair on his neck but then there’s something else. Lips, Yoongi kisses his neck and he can just barely hear more compliments as they seep into his skin and go straight to his heart.

“Yoongiyah, please,” he whispers, feeling his face warm. The blankets move as Yoongi pulls back to face Seokjin, looking him in the eye with soft eyes full of love. He slides a hand along his jaw, from where it was behind his head, up to wipe a tear building in the corner of Seokjin’s eye.

Yoongi looks at him like he wants something, just a tiny wonder. The eye contact that they hold in the low light inches apart asks something and Seokjin thinks he might want it too.

So as Yoongi moves closer Seokjin closes his eyes and lets him. He leans ever so slightly into Yoongi’s mouth as it touches with his, their lips pressed into each other. Yoongi kisses him like sweet music, like a ballad in spring, like every way in which Seokjin has never imagined. Has Seokjin ever kissed someone before? Because he can't remember a thing. He kisses back with hesitance, with a slow wander and shyness, not knowing if this is real or a dream.

Yoongi kisses him in such a way that makes him feel good. It feels so beautiful the way their mouths move, Yoongi guiding him and somehow whispering all his compliments from earlier straight into him. Yoogni pulls away, looking back with a soft and goofy smile and Seokjin mirrors it back. Nothing else exists. Yoongi closes his eyes and lies down on the pillow but no!! Seokjin wants to kiss him again. And again. And again.

He plants a quick kiss on Yoongi’s cheek to hype himself up before doing taking his face in his hands and kissing him again. Yoongi seems surprised, as if they hadn’t just kissed a second ago, but soon succumbs into it.

“Yoongi,” Seokjin asks when they separate. For some reason, he gets flustered, unable to say the next thing. “I uh, do you like me? You like this? Kissing me?” 

Because it feels so one-sided, like Yoongi is pouring his very heart into him and he isn’t giving anything back. Yoongi’s fingers run up under Seokjin’s pajama shirt, ever so tenderly tracing along his stomach with just the pads of his fingers. 

“Yeah,” Yoongi sighs like he’s high, lost in a melody. “Yeah, I like it.” Yoongi continues to make art with his blessed piano fingers on his stomach. 

“You like kissing me?” Seokjin repeats, wondering if Yoongi can feel his rapid heartbeat under his touch. 

“Goddamn, Seokjin.” Yoongi says, “You are quite possibly the most attractive person on this entire earth, even you know it, and I literally had to share a room with you for years. Yes, I want to kiss you.” 

“Haha, what?” Seokjin says aloud, somehow feeling flustered hearing Yoongi say it. “You think I’m attractive?” Seokjin could just barely make out the eye roll, the look on Yoongi’s face in the dark. 

“Worldwide handsome, Kim Seokjin,” Yoongi says, whispering the first part in English. “Am I making you flustered?” he laughs his very Yoongi laugh, and it’s cute. Shit. Seokjin squeezes his eyes shut.

“Are you uncomfortable?” Yoongi asks, in all seriousness, tone shifting. His hands pause underneath Seokjin’s pajama shirt. Seokjin thinks about it for a moment. “Is it alright- I can stop- Can I kiss you again?” Yoongi adds hesitantly like he already knows the answer will be no and slips his hands from under his shirt, leaving spots that feel cold. 

Seokjin still has a lot of things to sort out, his sexuality possibly being one of them, but kissing Min Yoongi seems like a good idea if he does say so himself. 

“Hmmm,” he voices in false thought, “I was thinking I wanted to kiss you so maybe we can compro-” but Yoongi cuts him off with his lips as he yanks him forward by the collar.

The kiss ends with a sleepy pull away. With tired sighs from both. It was a long day. Seokjin isn't sure he’ll be able to sleep though, until Yoongi curls back into him, sunburns and all, fitting together with a glowing warmth.

- 

Seokjin wakes in Yoongi’s bed with the birds. The lone window of their loft pours the first early waves of light into the room. Across the space, he sees Yoogni curled small into his bed. Like they’d learned in past nights, the bed just wasn't meant for two, but stupidly they’d slept together again, leaving Seokjin to crawl over to the other bed sometime in the night- wait.

Last night.

The heap of blankets moves, and Seokjin knowing him all too well, can tell that Yoongi is awake. Trying to fall back asleep, but awake all the same.

“Morning,” Seokjin yawns, rolling onto his side to fully face the other bed. “Mmm, Yoongi did you kiss me last night?”

The lumpy mass moves, shooting upright to look at Seokjin, his hair ruffled up, eyes tired and face in a pout of confusion.

“What?” He says, his voice scratchy and sleepy, not really registering words. 

“You kissed me, we kissed last night… or-?” Seokjin feels his ears grow warm. At the memory, at the idea maybe he made it up. Maybe it was a dream.

Seokjin can see Yoongi’s life flash before his eyes as he stares blankly at the wall with shoulders slumped and pajama shirt slipping off his shoulder. He wants nothing more than to go over and brush his messy hair down and hug him.

“I’m sorry, I, I think I was drunk and, I uh,” Yoongi fumbles over his words, making up excuses and getting redder and redder. Getting up and making the floorboards creak, Seokjin sits next to Yoongi taking his hand. 

“-and I uh, really like you,” Yoongi finishes as he looks down at their hands. Taking his chin up under his palm, Seokjin leans over to kiss him once again. He laces their fingers together and guides Yoongi’s hand to his waist as the other relaxes under him, letting Seokjin kiss him. Yoongi holds onto his waist keeping him grounded and close as their lips form a new meaning into life on this tiny bed.

“Your breath stinks,” Yoongi says, slipping a hand from Seokjin’s hip to run it up through his messy hair, making it worse. Seokjin grins and huffs a big blow of morning breath at him. Yoongi plugs his nose dramatically and buries his face into Seokjin’s chest. “Gross.” Yeah, he likes him too. 

“Should we start packing up?” Seokjin halfheartedly suggests, looking around the room, already dreading the plan to be back before dinner and the long drive ahead. When he turns back to Yoongi, he doesn’t expect him to be so close. Yoongi’s delicate eyelashes are countable. Seokjin blinks back, forgetting how to drive. 

“Maybe later,” Yoongi sighs softly into his lips.

There isn’t anything special about the kiss. No sparks fly. No rush to declare his eternal love. Just slightly chapped lips moving and loving. Hands brushing back hair and touching skin with gentle strokes. Breath whispering along necks and tickling ears. A feeling so unfamiliar and foreign, yet so genuine. Sending chills down his spine with every touch, every breath, straight to his bare toes as they curl up.

They fall into the covers as the sun climbs higher, leaving them bathed in warmth to tumble sweetly into love.

-

The drive back feels faster than it is, as the air fills with off-key singing and quiet lapses of sleep as the car rumbles on. There’s a haziness floating in the air, and not from the dust of the gravel road. A blurry comfort, blocking out life as the two of them exist in tandem, the only ones in the world. Time can come later, because time brings difficulty. Time means change. So they just sit there. Yoongi content to sit next to Seokjin. To listen to his breath as he naps in the passenger seat. To laugh as he yells into an invisible karaoke mic, filling the truck with passion. To trail behind him as they push past their bandmates to kiss the radiator under the window and praise the electricity above. To unwind next to him on the couch as Seokjin narrates their camping tales with exaggerated grandeur to their sick friends wrapped in blankets as the sun sets. Yoongi sinks into Seokjin and laces fingers beneath the blanket, not honestly clear where this is going, if they are moving anywhere, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t mind just sitting here, as long as it’s his shoulder he's against.