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The bass blaring through the wooden floors of the club is what wakes Yoongi from his vodka-induced stupor. He pulls his forehead from its resting place on top of his crossed arms, reaching reflexively for the alcohol balanced precariously on the edge of the counter beside his elbow. Tosses his head back and swallows the clear liquid. Burps loudly. Smirks at a lady across the bar who sends a grimace in his direction.
Truthfully, Yoongi doesn’t want to be seated on the grimy stool currently supporting his slumped body weight, but the day hasn’t been kind to him. Jeongguk hadn’t been lying next to him in bed when he’d awoken that morning, his favorite pair of jeans had a massive stain on the back pocket, his son-of-a-bitch boss assigned some mindless reading due the next day, his coworkers suck in general, and he misses Jeongguk, he misses Jeongguk, he misses-
Jeongguk. Where the hell is Jeongguk?
Frantically, with movements wild enough to nearly tip himself backwards off his bar stool, he digs his phone from his skinny jeans pocket, grumbling to himself about the tight fabric that clings to his thighs. Why does he wear these stupid things in the first place? They are uncomfortable and itchy and draw attention to his skinny limbs, but-
Jeongguk likes them, says he looked sexy in them. And Min Yoongi is, first and foremost, a sucker for Jeon Jeongguk.
Bleary-eyed, Yoongi glares at his front facing camera until Face-ID recognition clicks the home screen open. Thank fuck for Apple, he thinks offhandedly. No way in hell he could remember some random code after drinking half his weight in liquor.
“Hey, Siri,” he grumbles, head lolling to the side from its propped-up position on his palm. “Call my husband.”
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t find a contact with that name in your phone. Please try again.”
Motherfucker. “Motherfucker,” he voices aloud. “‘S not my husband yet.” He sniffs, then waves the bartender over.
“Can I do something for you, sir?” He asks, wiping the inside of a glass with the cloth draped over his left shoulder.
Yoongi sighs. “Fuck, man. I need to fuckin-” He stops, snapping his eyes shut and forcing down the wave of his dinner threatening to return to his mouth. “Need to call my boyfriend. My- fuck, my Jeongguk. Can’t find his name.” He thrusts the phone towards the man.
“He’s too good to me, you know?” He rambles slowly, eyes still closed. “Too motherfuckin’ kind. ‘N I wanna talk to him. Wanna kiss him, wanna touch-”
A static voice comes through the phone speakers, effectively shutting Yoongi up from his rant. “Hyung?”
Yoongi eyes pop open and he bolts up, snatching the phone from the bartender’s hand. “Ggukie. I miss you. Where are you?”
“Hyung, I’m at home. Are you drunk?”
A pause. Then, “no.”
He burps loudly.
Jeongguk lets out a sigh that’s barely audible through the phone. If he were more self-aware and infinitely more sober, Yoongi might have called it endeared. Instead, he ignores it. “Okay, Yoongi, I’m coming to get you. Where are you? Are you still with your friends?”
Yoongi shakes his head, then remembers to verbally answer a few seconds later. “They went dancing. But I just wanted a drink. I’m sorry, Jeonggukie.” He sniffs. “Are you here yet?” He asks quietly.
Jeongguk giggles. “No, hyung, I’m leaving now. Gimme ten minutes, okay? Wanna stay on the phone until I’m there?”
“Yes,” Yoongi responds almost immediately.
Jeongguk laughs again, and Yoongi can hear the engine of his Audi rev to life in the background. Stupid Audi. Yoongi thinks it is the ugliest car in existence, but Jeongguk loves it with his whole heart, and who is Yoongi to deny Jeongguk of the things that make him smile.
Keeping that stupid car was one of Jeongguk’s only requirements when they decided to move in together. Yoongi considers that decision to be the best he’s ever made. It means he doesn’t have to make the trek across town every day to see Jeongguk, and he can count on a pile of messy brown curls in his face when he opens his eyes in the morning. Plus, sometimes on the weekends he’ll wake up to a freshly showered Jeongguk strutting confidently into their bedroom, skin glowing under the soft sunlight of the morning, and he’ll prop himself up on his palm to oogle his bare ass and muscular back as he goes about the room getting dressed. On the better days, Jeongguk will catch him staring and then hop right back into Yoongi’s open arms and they’ll never get up.
Sharing an apartment in college was great because the rent was cheap. But now, there’s something so achingly domestic about sharing one with Jeongguk, Love Of His Life and Melter Of Min Yoongi’s Ice Cold Heart (Hoseok gave him that nickname after Yoongi went an entire evening without a single sassy remark because he was distracted by Jeongguk’s ass), and it’s separate from the reduced bills he has to pay monthly. Despite their messy schedules, living together means that there are always a few moments here and there to chat, or kiss, or simply exist in one another’s space. Cooking dinners with Jeongguk’s voice as background music feels-- well, it feels like home. And if that makes Yoongi want to fall down on one knee and confess his love forever then he’ll fucking do it.
Yoongi is just finishing up his story about how his friends abandoned him an hour ago when he feels a touch on his shoulder. He spins around a little too quickly and smacks his face into someone’s chest. Gentle hands cradle the sides of his head, and he peers up at the man standing in front of him.
Jeongguk flashes his bunny teeth and tucks a loose hair behind his ear. “Hi, baby.” He murmurs. “Ready to go home?”
Yoongi hums, tucking his forehead back into the crook of his arm. Jeongguk laughs. He’s so giggly tonight, Yoongi notes. So giggly and happy and in love.
He doesn’t realize he’s smiling like an idiot until Jeongguk raises an eyebrow down at him, his own grin sprawling across his cheeks. Yoongi wonders if either of them ever smiled as much as they do now before the met. He can’t help it. His love for Jeongguk shows up in so many different ways.
“What are you smiling at, hm?” Jeongguk asks softly, pulling on Yoongi’s arms to encourage him to hop off the stool and onto the ground. He manages to make the jump, albeit a little wobbly, but Jeongguk’s hands are steady around his elbows.
“Love you so much, Ggukie. Wanna go home with you.”
Jeongguk snorts, face flushed. “Well, we live together, hyung. We sleep together.” He tugs on his arm to start walking across the tiled floor.
Yoongi blinks. “Sleep together? Can we have sex?”
“Jesus, of course that’s all you get from that sentence. C’mon, baby. Is your coat zipped?” He stops their walk across the bar in front of the door, turning towards Yoongi to readjust the shoulders of his sweatshirt - Jeongguk’s sweatshirt - before reaching down to pull up the zipper. “There. I’m parked right outside, ‘kay? Let’s get you home.”
It turns out that getting Yoongi in the car is easier said than done because now that he’s seen Jeongguk he doesn’t seem to want to let go. Jeongguk has to manhandle him into the passenger seat, distract him with a kiss to fasten his seatbelt around his chest, and then jog to the driver’s side of the car before Yoongi can get mad and try to follow him.
In the end, it goes like this: Yoongi settles for clinging to Jeongguk’s hand while the younger drives them home. He demands that Jeongguk sings along to the songs on the radio, and when he explains to Yoongi that he doesn’t know the words of the track playing, Yoongi pouts at the window until Jeongguk flips of the station and sings songs from his memory, which. Is better, Yoongi decides. Jeongguk’s voice is soothing nonetheless, and it takes him less than three minutes to conk out with his temple pressed to the cool glass of the window.
“-gi? Sweetheart, we’re home. Wake up so we can go inside, okay? It’ll be more comfortable than the car seat.”
Yoongi cracks one eye open at the sound of Jeongguk’s voice, and his boyfriend rewards him with a kiss on the forehead. He climbs out of his own seat and wanders around to Yoongi’s side to pull him out of his buckle. The two make their way through the parking garage, and Yoongi tucks himself into Jeongguk’s side when they’re in the safety of the elevator.
Jeongguk hums thoughtfully. “Did something happen, hyung? Why’d you go get so hammered anyway?”
Yoongi sighs, then blinks aggressively to clear his head from the overwhelming onslaught of thoughts that attempt to come flooding back to his brain. “No. ‘m just stressed is all. And you had to teach dance this morning so I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”
“Ah.” Jeongguk replies. He runs his hand up the length of Yoongi’s back through his sweatshirt. The bell sounds, letting them know they’ve reached their floor, and Jeongguk guides the two of them down the hallway to their flat. “I’m sorry I had to leave so early. Usually I’d wake you up but you looked really peaceful. Plus, I know you don’t have morning classes on Fridays and I wanted you to sleep in a bit.” Jeongguk fiddles with the handle for a moment, twisting the key in the lock several times before it clicks open silently. Today, their broken door has been more cooperative than every day in the last month combined. Jeongguk gives it a soft pat as they step inside the apartment.
Yoongi nods, body threatening to collapse. He’s drained of all energy he had fifteen minutes ago when Jeongguk showed up to the bar. Jeongguk deposits him on their bed and then goes to the closet. He pops out a moment later with two pairs of sweatpants and a t-shirt for each of them.
“Here, scoot up a bit.” Jeongguk nudges Yoongi’s leg until he readjusts and props his head on one of the pillows. Jeongguk reaches for Yoongi’s shoes and starts to undo the laces. “Wanna know what I did today?”
Yoongi barely nods. He’s out light a light before Jeongguk even starts talking.
Yoongi firmly believes that Jeongguk is the kindest person to exist on the planet. People tend to have varying first impressions of Jeongguk; his black outfits and sharp jawline and tattoos that peek out from the neckline of his t-shirts make him seem cold and distant, but his heart is pure and it is so obvious to anyone who cares to watch close enough. Yoongi is, almost painfully, reminded of this when he wakes up the next morning to see a plate of toast and eggs on the table at his side next to two painkillers, a full glass of water, and a handwritten note.
Hyung,
I had to teach this morning, so I’m sorry to leave you alone for a bit - although something tells me you’ll still be sleeping when I come home. Please drink all of your water and finish the damn eggs. They’re good for you and I don’t want to hear about how you’re hungover as shit and aren’t hungry because you’ll be grouchy this afternoon.
Anyway, I hope you’re feeling better and I’m sorry you were so stressed yesterday. I love you so much and I get sad when you don’t take care of yourself. Drinking isn’t going to solve your problems. I’m always here to talk to you when you need.
I’m sending you a hug and kiss right now. Remind me to give you a real one when I get home.
XO Jeongguk
Yoongi sighs, tucking the paper back onto the nightstand and propping himself slowly. Fuck. A sharp throb reverberates through his head, and he rubs his temple absentmindedly while adjusting the pillows behind his back. Yoongi reaches for the pills and swallows them down, glaring at the glass for a moment before deciding he’s too smitten to even pretend like he won’t listen to Jeongguk’s loving threats. He finishes the water quickly, wincing at the way he feels it sloshing around in his empty stomach. He grabs a piece of toast to nibble on and reaches for his phone.
Squinting at the brightness of the screen, Yoongi notices that it’s ten am. Fuck. He flicks open the message app and selects the first conversation that appears on his screen. Gguk, he types. Thanks for breakfast. When are you home?
Hi baby. Just leaving class now. I’ll see you soon <3, he gets almost immediately.
Yoongi adds pet names to the list of things he didn’t expect from Jeongguk when they started dating. He’s so liberal with them, slips them into sentences whenever he feels like he can. Which is often. Yoongi wonders if it’s some extension of his need to make sure the people around him know that they’re loved.
He feels it. All of Jeongguk’s love. It’s hard to miss: strung around the walls of their apartment, tucked under the comforter draped across the bed. Protecting this little safe haven the two of them have built together.
He’s interrupted from daydreaming about Jeongguk’s lovely everything by the sound of the door handle rattling, then a key being shoved roughly into the lock. It’s quiet. Then-
“Fuck! You stupid motherfucking door.” A muffled thump resonates through the wall. It probably comes from Jeongguk slamming the toe of his boot against the poor thing. “Open sesame, bitch.”
Yoongi laughs, pulling himself out of bed slowly and popping the last bite of bread into his mouth. He chews through a smile as he shuffles to the entrance of the apartment, pretending that his brain isn’t threatening to leap out of his skull with every smack against the wood.
Jeongguk is still going when he flips the deadbolt and turns the handle to reveal one disheveled boyfriend. “You asshole, I will rip you out of your hinges you- oh, hey, thanks Yoongi-hyung.”
Yoongi levels him with what he tries to school into an intense glare, but Jeongguk’s soft look in his direction tells him it failed. Goddamnit. Screw his brain for turning to nothing but mush in the presence of Jeongguk.
“Hi, hyung.” He repeats, squeezing between Yoongi’s shoulder and the door frame to toe off his shoes in the entryway. “Can we get that handle fixed soon? One of these days we’re gonna get a noise complaint, and I really don’t want to have to deal with that.” He pauses to toss his keys and jacket onto the couch, then turns to face Yoongi, who’s still frozen in the doorway. “What? Why are you staring at me like that?”
If he was being honest with himself, Yoongi would admit that he hadn’t even realized he was staring. Jeongguk has that effect on people. Irresistible charm, or something like that. It probably doesn’t help that Yoongi is hopelessly in love with him and finds every little thing he does to be the most endearing.
Instead, Yoongi hums. “‘M tired. And I’m pretty sure you still owe me a kiss.”
Jeongguk rolls his eyes, but Yoongi can’t miss the beautiful blush building up on the apples of his cheeks. He steps away from the couch, makes his way toward Yoongi.
“Hmm,” Jeongguk taps his chin thoughtfully. He’s pulled his bottom lip under his front teeth and his hands automatically find Yoongi’s jaw when they’re close enough. Yoongi wraps his fingers around Jeongguk’s delicate waist, squeezing affectionately.
“Interesting,” Jeongguk whispers, leaning up on his toes to plant a kiss on Yoongi’s forehead. “There. Better?”
Something deep sounds through Yoongi’s chest and his fingers tighten around Jeongguk’s hips. His thumbs slip under the soft fabric of his t-shirt, rubbing gently against the warm skin he finds there. He shakes his head. “You brat.”
Jeongguk giggles. “Fine. I will indulge my boyfriend in one kiss only because he is extremely adorable in the morning and I love him with my whole heart. But then he is getting in the shower because his hair is greasy and he smells like booze.” Jeongguk glances towards the bed and notices the full plate of eggs still perched on the night table. “And then I will be force feeding him eggs because he can’t follow directions.”
He turns his head back towards Yoongi, and Yoongi catches his lips against his own along the way. It’s chaste, just the two of them pressing together, but he can feel Jeongguk’s lips curl upwards and he can’t help it when he smiles back against Jeongguk’s mouth.
True to his word, Jeongguk does pull back afterwards, but only to tuck Yoongi’s hair behind his ear. Yoongi’s heart threatens to seize right there in his chest. Jeongguk’s big, bright eyes glance up at him, and Yoongi doesn’t even try to fight the urge to kiss him between the eyes, on his cheek, his lips. Again, again, again.
After a moment, Jeongguk hums against his mouth. “Hyung,” he whispers. “I love you, but I’m serious about the shower.” He kisses Yoongi again, just softly. “You stink.”
Yoongi laughs, breath light against Jeongguk’s cheek. Ghosts his lips there for a moment. “‘Kay. I’ll be right back.” He murmurs.
He pulls away from Jeongguk and tugs his shirt over his head as he wanders down the hall towards the bathroom. Yoongi smirks when he hears Jeongguk’s short intake of breath. If he purposefully wiggles his ass in Jeongguk’s direction, no one has to know.
“I’m reheating your eggs, baby.” Jeongguk calls down the hall as Yoongi yanks the hot water tap to the right. “You can’t ignore them.”
“Yes I can.” Yoongi yells back, slipping his sweatpants down his legs and flinging them off his ankle and into the laundry basket in the corner. The fabric smacks the baby blue wall, then slides down to join the other dirty clothes in the hamper. Offhandedly, Yoongi notices the sheets underneath his sweatpants have a suspicious-looking stain in the corner. He wrinkles his nose and makes a mental note to throw them in the washer before one of their sets of parents decides to show up randomly and uncomfortable questions are asked.
The shower feels good, and his hair is greasy. He finishes quickly and dries his body, shivering slightly from the cold before deciding that the sweatpants he was wearing before aren’t that dirty and plucking them from the laundry. He carefully avoids the stain and pulls them up his legs. Then, he reaches for his toothbrush.
Jeongguk’s crystal voice carries through the apartment as he cleans up the kitchen and Yoongi realizes, with sort of a blatant clarity that doesn’t often make itself known, that he wants this for the rest of his life. Wants to bathe in this easy dance the two of them have choreographed, all playful giggles and sweet kisses and gentle hands and so much love it’s stuffy sometimes. At some point over the course of the past three years, Yoongi’s Good Days started showing up ten times as often as his Bad ones, and that’s progress, isn’t it? Jeongguk is proof of it. He’s stuck around this whole time, shaped Yoongi into the young man he sees in the mirror. Loved him with his whole being for so, so long.
He’s too young to be making Grown Up decisions now, but he wants to so badly. Wants to drown himself in the love he has for Jeongguk. Wants to drop to one knee and slide a big fat diamond onto Jeongguk’s left hand and promise his heart and his support and his love for as long as Jeongguk will have him. Hopefully forever.
Yoongi could live forever surviving on Jeongguk’s love alone.
He tucks the thought deep into his chest, beneath his skin and his ribs where his heart sings for Jeongguk. Knows he has to wait a little bit longer. Not to be sure enough, because hell. Yoongi couldn’t be more sure of anything ever. But he has to wait just a little while until he can give Jeongguk everything he deserves and more. A house and a dog, and maybe even a family. And it’s not now, but it’s soon, and until then Yoongi will keep on loving Jeongguk with everything he has. That’s all that matters.
He leaves the steamy bathroom quietly, heading back into the main room of the apartment where Jeongguk is still singing his little heart out. Yoongi grins, slipping into the little kitchen to find Jeongguk propped up against the sink and scrubbing at the egg pan. Yoongi slots himself behind his back, arms wrapping tightly across Jeongguk’s toned chest. Jeongguk doesn’t stop singing, but he flips the tap off and his wet hands come up to find Yoongi’s across his stomach. He leans his head back against Yoongi’s shoulder, eyes relaxing shut.
When Jeongguk finishes his song, Yoongi kisses his temple so softly, then bends a little to nip at his earlobe. Squeezes Jeongguk’s fingers between his own.
He doesn't eat the eggs.