Work Text:
"Yoongi-yah."
Yoongi hums in acknowledgment as he types. He has a reflection essay due on Monday about the documentary they watched in his Ethics class. He's actually halfway done, the fastest he's been in a while, and it's only Saturday. A miracle, if he dares to call it one.
Beside him sits Seokjin who’s watching the regular weekly show that he actively waits and is very enthusiastic for. Usually, Yoongi watches and reacts with him, but today Yoongi is struck with the rare urge to be productive and do all the things he needs to do for his academics. Besides, he’s a little bit behind all the stuff he needs to produce for production class and analyze for basic music theory class. The semester and the pressure that it exerts on him are getting heavier, so maybe he unconsciously realized that he needs to start working harder.
"What are you doing? It's Saturday."
Yoongi can hear the pout in Seokjin’s voice. He pauses but doesn't look up, he resumes typing furiously, as if the words would get away from him if he doesn’t.
“I have an essay due on Monday.”
"But it's a Saturday," Seokjin repeats, the pout in his voice even more prominent, "And we’re watching RuPaul’s Drag Race. See, I think I already know who will win. Do you want to bet with me?”
Yoongi only hums distractedly in response.
“At least let me lie on your lap,” Seokjin whines.
Yoongi startles, as he usually does, but doesn't show it. He’s gotten really good these days. Before, he couldn’t even look at Seokjin for at least a few minutes after. Now, he could recover after only a moment of shock.
He looks at his hyung, who was expectedly pouting at him, pointedly and deadpans: "I literally wouldn't be able to type if you do."
“Can’t you just do that later? Please? Plus, you’re about to sleep soon, aren’t you? We haven’t talked a lot the whole week!”
Seokjin was right. Yoongi likes to keep regular hours of sleeping to lessen the severity and frequency of him sleeping during the day. He has hypersomnia, and it sucks for a course that needs so much work and input as his. On good days, he can go through a day without napping, but there are also bad days, where he can’t leave his bed due to severe sleepiness and even if he does, he could never concentrate well in class.
Because of his unique situation, he takes fewer units than he should every semester to make sure that he wouldn’t be overloaded enough to necessitate staying up all night and to make room for hour-long daytime naps.
“Fine,” Yoongi puts the laptop on the coffee table in front and crosses his arms, “Who’s lip-synching?”
Seokjin happily wiggles closer to him and lies his head on Yoongi’s lap. “No one yet, they’re still walking down the runway. The theme’s Frozen Eleganza today.”
♡
Seokjin and Yoongi were already acquaintances when the younger moved in, connected by their common friend Hoseok. Yoongi, who was an incoming second-year Music Production and Sound Engineering major then, had been looking to move out of the dorms to escape the horrors of common showers and thin walls; while third-year Film and Visual Arts major Seokjin’s previous roommate had already graduated; he couldn’t afford to pay the rent alone.
The apartment is small—small that Yoongi and he share the only bedroom that’s is spacious enough to fit a double-deck and two medium-sized desks for each of them. The apartment is actually listed as a two-bedroom, but the second is much, much smaller than the other that Seokjin and Yoongi had decided to keep it as storage and their walk-in wardrobe. At first, this bothered the introverted Yoongi, who is very private and secretive when doing music-related work, and who also needs somewhere to be alone when he gets tired of human interaction.
Of course, adjusting to a new roommate takes many awkward mistakes and tiptoeing around each other, but it seemed that Seokjin was used to such situations. He wasn’t pushy or nosy, yet he talked to Yoongi enough to make him comfortable faster than the latter normally would’ve. Plus, Hoseok kept coming over to make sure they’re getting along as if it were his responsibility. The three of them always watched movies and leisurely drank beer as Hoseok relayed all the gossip he knows about the people around him.
At some point, Yoongi discovered that Seokjin, much like Hoseok, shows his affection through constant touch. Yoongi wasn't used to physical affection: hugs, hair ruffles, lying on laps—because he was raised in a family that is stiff and is almost formal, but Seokjin eased, no, made him get used to it.
Now, a year later, he can proudly say that he got a little used to them. His mind doesn't buffer as much whenever Seokjin suddenly does something, such as touch his neck or put his arms around him. He’s now used to Seokjin’s antics just as Seokjin’s used to his. They watch movies at least two times a week; occasionally talk about their day; have dinner together almost every night because Seokjin cooks as a way to destress and it’s much cheaper than going out.
“It’s also to make sure that you eat and not sleep your hunger away,” Seokjin had teased one night. Yoongi had huffed in indignation then, but he was also creeped out with how spot-on Seokjin was. He didn’t really care about his health, but his hyung made sure he pays attention, even if it’s only with the food he eats.
Through the time that passed, Yoongi learned that Seokjin wasn’t as outgoing and extroverted as he initially thought. The double-deck really helps when one or both of them needs space because they didn’t have to see each other. Nights that are spent with silence are almost equal in number with nights spent catching up and asking about each other’s day.
Yoongi doesn’t mind it. Seokjin’s the best roommate he could ever ask for.
♡
Yoongi awakens to Seokjin gently shaking him. Seokjin is crouched next to him, his face level with his. He stares at Seokjin for a while, confused and groggy, until Seokjin smiles at him, unsure.
“Hey, Yoongs. I heard your alarm a while ago. You’ve been asleep for an hour and a half now, you should wake up.”
Slowly, Yoongi’s brain catches up to his body. “Oh,” he replies lamely, his voice cracking.
“You have a class at 2:30 don’t you?”
Yoongi removes the blanket—blanket?—on top of him. “Yeah, thanks Jin-hyung.”
“No worries,” he says as he gently fixes Yoongi’s hair, “Have you eaten lunch?”
Yoongi nods, then mumbles: “Sandwich.”
“Okay,” Seokjin stands up then and offers a hand. Yoongi takes it and sits up, “If you need me I’ll be inside our room. My class is done for the day, so…”
Yoongi knows that, of course. They both have their schedules printed and posted on a corkboard by the door. Yoongi walks over to it as he yawns and stretches. He has Music Theory II next, his last class of the day, a two-hour class of lecture, consisting mostly of critical hearing and analysis activities. It’s really a hassle to have huge blanks in his schedule, as he would have to go and come back, but without it, he would fall asleep in class. Yoongi walks to the bathroom and brushes his teeth.
Seokjin mostly shares the same breaks as him, and so he brings it upon himself to wake Yoongi up whenever he oversleeps. Yoongi’s very thankful: he’s missed many classes when he had no one looking out for him in his first year, and it affected his grades quite significantly.
After brushing his teeth, Yoongi grabs his bag and heads toward the door.
“Oh, Yoongi?” Seokjin calls out and walks towards him, “Can you get some kimchi when you come back? I’m planning to cook kimchi fried rice later and we’re running out.”
“Yeah, sure. Just kimchi?” He turns to face him, “You want Melona?”
Seokjin’s eyes widen and he nods enthusiastically, “I’d love you forever.”
Yoongi’s stomach swoops, but he pays it no mind. It is, after all, a normal occurrence with Seokjin and he now treats it as an indicator saying that there’s still something he’s not used to yet.
He hums thoughtfully, “Banana?”
Seokjin kisses Yoongi on his cheek, his laughter right beside the younger’s ear. “You know me too well, Yoongi.”
Yoongi watches him go back to their room, blinks, and turns around to go to class. Thinks of how he might never get used to Seokjin at all. Thinks: he doesn’t really mind.
“I’m back, Seokjin-hyung,” Yoongi greets as he takes off his shoes. His head throbs from both exhaustion and the cold outside. He never really liked the cold. He doesn’t like how it drains the energy he has left. He looks up to see Seokjin stretch his head from the sofa to peek at him.
“Oh, hey, Yoongichi.”
Yoongi hums in acknowledgment and trudges over to the refrigerator to put the ice cream inside the freezer and the kimchi inside. He walks over to the sofa and plops beside Seokjin.
“How’s class? You look like a zombie.”
“Fine,” he yawns and sinks even further down the cushion, “My head hurts.”
“Aw,” Seokjin fluffs his hair, “I can wake you up. Do you want to nap?”
Sometimes, when a day is especially tiresome and trying, Yoongi needs to take more than one nap in a day. But he has a lot to do, and he can’t afford to lose time.
“No, I probably won’t be able to wake up again if I do. How’s your day, hyung?”
Seokjin groans, “I love my major but it’s such a hassle. We’re going to have extra sessions for that Advanced Photography class I hate.”
“Why do you hate photography?”
“There’s a reason why I’m only taking it on my third year,” he says and pats Yoongi’s thigh, shaking his head slowly, disapprovingly. He continues, “I just suck at it, you know?”
“I don’t think you suck at it,” Yoongi yawns yet again, “I saw your outputs for your first activity. They’re really good.”
“Oh,” Seokjin looks at him, expressioj unreadable. Pats the space right beside him, “Come here, Yoongi, let me cuddle you.”
It seems that the hesitation is very apparent in his face. Seokjin makes grabby hands at him, that unreadable expression broken by a huge, overly exaggerated pout on his lips. Yoongi looks at him and thinks that it wouldn’t be as effective if Seokjin’s lips weren’t so plump. He tears his eyes away.
“Yoongichiiiii,” he whines, “I know you don’t need cuddles, but I do, I’ve been working on my script the whole time you’re out and I’m very tired. Very , very tired. Hug me, please? Or, fine, a little side hug?”
As always, without fail, Yoongi gives in. He scooches closer and drapes his arm awkwardly around the elder’s wide shoulders. Seokjin grins at him, pulls his arms lower and sighs contentedly. He plays the paused movie. “We can work on your cuddling skills later. Watch the Handmaiden with me for now.”
Yoongi is pulled from a dreamless sleep by the smell of kimchi fried rice wafts through the air. The television is off and Seokjin isn’t by his side anymore. The blanket he woke up to earlier is draped over his shoulders once again. He looks at the direction of the kitchen and sees Seokjin cooking; wonders just when he fell asleep. He stands up and walks over, stretching his arms over his head.
“Hyung.”
Seokjin jumps and some of the rice from the pan trickles out when Seokjin uncontrollably moves his spatula due to surprise. He turns to Yoongi with sharp eyes. “Min Yoongi!”
“Sorry,” he mumbles.
“I was this close to having a heart attack,” he chastises, pointing the spatula at him, “Don’t do that when I’m cooking. Or else I won’t give you a portion. You know I can eat this all by myself!”
“Sorry,” Yoongi repeats, yawning. His eyes are still heavy and every part of him is saying to go back to the sofa and continue sleeping. He cracks his neck to shake it off. “Why’d you let me sleep?”
“Well, you look so relaxed when you sleep, you know? I didn’t want to wake you up. Plus you looked like a real zombie when you came in. You needed it.”
Seokjin’s right, he actually did, but he was going to start working on his short story for his Creative Writing I course. Although he’d fall asleep when he tries to do that too, probably.
“How long was I asleep?”
“A little more than an hour?” Seokjin answers thoughtfully, “I’m not really sure.”
Moving his sleep time an hour forward is doable, Yoongi thinks. He usually makes himself got to bed around 10 PM and forces himself to wake up at 6 even though his first class starts two hours later. It’s to maintain some kind of tangible and fixed sleeping schedule because he wouldn’t be able to control his tiredness if he doesn’t.
“You hungry?” Seokjin asks. Yoongi nods. “Okay. This isn’t gonna take long.”
“I’ll set the table then?”
Seokjin looks at him like he saved the world. “You’re the best, Yoongi.”
Yoongi raises an eyebrow. Sometimes, Yoongi wonders why Seokjin didn’t take theater instead.
“I know,” he smirks, “Aren’t you glad I’m your roommate?”
Seokjin rolls his eyes as he walks past him, carrying the pan of cooked fried rice, “Very. Sit, Yoongi. In fact, you would even become an even better roommate if you get the grape juice from the fridge.”
“Grape juice and kimchi fried rice?” he asks, incredulous, as he sits down at their small three-person table.
“Sadly, I don’t really care about your opinion on food, Mr. I-Eat-Hawaiian-Pizza-For-Breakfast.”
“What’s wrong with Hawaiian pizza?”
Seokjin dumps a huge amount of rice on his plate. It’s too much for Yoongi, but he couldn’t find himself to argue. Seokjin always looks out for him. The elder rolls his eyes once again in reply and starts to eat.
“Hyung. What’s wrong with Hawaiian pizza?”
“You’re disgusting, Yoongi.”
♡
Yoongi knows that he’s been taking too many naps lately.
It’s mainly because his sleeping schedule is getting variated too much: the stack of outputs he has to pass is getting higher and higher, so high that he feels like a figurative shadow looms upon his face. He even stays up as late as 1 AM, because no matter how much try, his time management is not enough to finish everything he has to do.
Right now, he’s on the sofa. He takes most of his naps here because it’s easier to peel himself away from it, compared to his bunk. He’s been scrolling on Twitter to wind down waiting for sleep to come. And soon enough, his eyes are getting heavier by the second, the screen doubling and blurring when his eyes try to forcefully close; and his thoughts are slowing down. He thinks that he’s going to let himself sleep right now, and just check the comments of his professor on the sample he sent (on time) and then revise after this nap.
He’s always been able to fall asleep easily and swiftly.
As he sinks further, into the blissful realms of sleep, he feels the sofa space above him dip.
“It’s getting cold lately, Yoongi-yah. Is it that hard getting a blanket from the room?”
And a few seconds later, a blanket on his shoulders, and Seokjin’s lips on his forehead.
Yoongi sinks.
♡
Mr. Min Yoongi:
The beat you sent has huge potential. I am glad to see how much this particular piece has improved from the very first draft. However, there are still some points to improve…
Yoongi reads the letter quickly. Genre-specific production has been particularly challenging for him mainly because he hadn’t explored the genre assigned to him yet on his own. His professor wanted a thicker verse at the second chorus, and he understand that it just means that he should make another layer of bass (which he didn’t listen to, the first time).
“How was it, then?” Seokjin appears from the bathroom suddenly, his speech barely comprehensible because of the toothbrush inside his mouth.
Yoongi shrugs and says: “He said it’s better.”
“That’s good!” Seokjin replies, he disappears to finish brushing, “I told you you’re going to ace that one, Yoongi. I knew it from the first time I heard it.”
“But the professor told me the first one sucks.”
“Well, he sucks.”
Yoongi snorts and leans on the frame of the bathroom door. “Please do share your expertise, oh great one.”
Seokjin sneers at him and hits him at the chest, narrows his eyes into little slits and says, “Don’t call me that.”
He looks at the mirror. “I’d rather you call me Your Majesty.”
“Shut up,” Yoongi laughs and goes back to sit on the sofa. Seokjin is about to leave for his extra class.
As a temporary silence ensues as Yoongi waits for his turn to shower in the bathroom, he remembers yesterday. Yesterday, when Seokjin kissed his forehead when he was asleep.
He still isn’t sure if everything was just a dream. But the blanket carefully placed over him says otherwise. Recently, Yoongi’s been waking up with a blanket when he knows he falls asleep without. He remembers bits and pieces of the words Seokjin said right before he fell asleep—something about blankets and colds.
“What are you thinking so deeply of?” Seokjin asks, Yoongi’s heart jumps and he struggles to come up with a retort, but the former doesn’t give him a chance to answer. He continues, “I’m gonna be back late, Yoonie, hm? Sorry I wouldn’t be able to cook dinner.”
“I can look after myself. I’m not a baby, hyung.”
“I’m sure you’re not. Lock up and don’t wait up, baby!”
The door closes behind Seokjin.
Baby? Yoongi thinks. Did he hear right? Baby?
He blinks. That can’t be right .
Yoongi stays up until 11.
For a music production and sound engineering major, they surely require a lot of essays. Not that he’s complaining, because essays are totally easier to half-ass than songs.
The semester’s really catching up to him. He still has a couple of analyses to do, write about, and submit; practical and written exams he has yet to prepare for, and he still hasn’t started on the final projects he knows would be a bitch to cram. He feels like his mind will shut down soon.
He sighs and closes his laptop. The song he’s working on had been on repeat the whole time he was writing the essay, hoping that he could get an idea of what bass line he has to write to appease his professor. But the idea hasn’t come to him at all.
Maybe because he’s too sleepy. He crawls to bed. Sleepy, he’s so sleepy.
The front door opens just as he closes his eyes. Because he’s so tired, he doesn't have the energy and will left to go greet Seokjin. Seokjin comes in quietly. Seokjin doesn’t come into their room for a while, because Yoongi knows he wouldn’t lie in his bed without washing up or changing his clothes. Yoongi stares at the door of their bedroom, trying to trace Seokjin’s movements with hearing.
He quickly closes his eyes when Seokjin enters the room. He doesn’t even know why he does it, but he keeps them closed. He hears Seokjin sigh. A tired one. One that sounds like he would fall asleep at any moment.
He couldn’t hear anything for a while, but when Seokjin speaks, his voice is so near to him that Yoongi barely suppresses inhaling sharply.
“Again, Yoongi?” Seokjin says quietly as he covers Yoongi’s frame with a blanket. He feels Seokjin’s breath on his cheeks, and his heartbeat picks up.
Then, he feels Seokjin’s soft, soft lips on his forehead.
♡
Yoongi likes it. He likes it so much he thinks he’s going crazy.
He likes it so much that he pretends to be asleep and wait for Seokjin to tuck him in and kiss his forehead when he takes midday naps. Just to feel those few seconds of Seokjin’s lips on his forehead. Sometimes he’d fail and fall asleep before it happens, and he’d wake up with his mood down.
It is in that manner that Yoongi finishes his hell-week. Of course, along with the stuff going on at home, he has to get through his academics. He feels like he’s going to die by the end of it, like he always does, but he’s just happy he survived. That’s why he’s at Hoseok and his boyfriend Namjoon’s, a first-year with the same major as him, apartment drinking. Seokjin didn’t come today because his hell week was far from over, so it was just Hoseok, him, and Namjoon.
Yoongi drinks the shot of soju Hoseok pours for him. “Why don’t you come over anymore Hoseok-ah?”
“You’re drunk already, hyung?” Hoseok replies, as he points at him and laughs loudly.
“Shut the fuck up. You’re even drunker than me. You’re so loud.”
It doesn’t take a lot for Yoongi to be tipsy, but he knows that it takes even more for him to be drunk. Maybe he’s just tired today, and that’s why the alcohol got him sooner than he expected.
“But, hyung, I haven’t seen you this drunk, do you have a problem or something?” Namjoon says. Namjoon has always been smart. Yoongi envies him for it, just a little bit, but he doesn’t really mind Namjoon. He’s really nice, albeit a little clumsy for his own good. He’s heard a lot of disaster stories from Hoseok.
“Noooo, psh, what are you talking about?” He says, dismissing him with a wave of his hand.
“It’s Seokjin-hyung, isn’t it?” Hoseok laughs.
Yoongi narrows his eyes at him. “How do you know? I thought you weren’t smart, Hoseok-ah.”
Hoseok pouts and hits him, “That’s rude, hyung! But you know I’m not stupid either. Anyone who knows you will know. You guys are totally clueless and dense and stupid.”
“I don’t even know what that means!” he exclaims, “No, it’s just that I told you before that I wasn’t used to being so touchy right?”
Hoseok nods, expectant and so Yoongi continues. Ah fuck, he’s talking. But it’s too late for him to prevent himself. When he’s drunk, the words just come out.
“And I got used to you, Hoseok, so I’m not really that surprised that Seokjin was touchy either. But it’s just. It’s just, he likes patting my hair and lying on my lap and—”
“So? I do that to you all the time, too hyung!”
Yoongi glares at him, “I’m not finished yet, Seok-ah!”
Namjoon giggles at them. Yoongi would like to shout at him too, but he just ignores him.
“As I was saying, he hugs me a lot and pats my hair and asks me to cuddle him. And I-sometimes my stomach turns over itself so hard that it hurts, and, I didn’t really think a lot of it. Because that’s just how he treats his really close friends, right? But that’s really not the point. You know that I need to take naps all the time, don’t you?”
“Mhm?” Hoseok says, “You have that, somnia…?”
“Hypersomnia, yeah, I have to take naps during the day and recently I discovered that he comes when I’m just about to fall asleep and-and,” he pauses and feels his face heat up even more. He wonders if he should continue. If he can continue.
“And?” Hoseok takes hold of his shoulders and shakes him, “And?”
Yoongi, aided by the alcohol flowing through his veins and slowing the part of his brain that deals with reason, looks down and mumbles, “He kisses my forehead.”
“What?” Hoseok shouts, “Hyung, I can’t hear you.”
“He kisses my forehead!” he shouts, just as loudly. Then he looks down again, “And it’s so weird, because I know he’s just a naturally affectionate person. I’ve seen him do that to all of you. But somehow this is different, it’s-I don’t know, it feels really different than that and I—”
He looks at Namjoon and Hoseok, who’re both looking at him with wide, shiny, expectant eyes. He looks down on his hands and takes a huge breath.
“I don’t really mind, you know?”
He watches the two of them exchange glances he couldn’t decipher. Namjoon returns his gaze to him first, “What do you want to do, hyung?”
“What do you mean? Nothing? I mean,” he scratches at the back of his head. Seokjin’s face as he calls him baby flutters through his head. “D-do you think—how do I ask him to do it when I’m awake too?”
“Whaaaa…?” Namjoon says, “Are you really the Yoongi-hyung I know of?”
Yoongi feels his cheeks redden some more. “Shut up.”
“Shhh, shut up, baby!” Hoseok hits Namjoon’s mouth with the palm of his hand. Namjoon startles and his face scrunches up so funny that both he and Hoseok double over laughing.
“Your fucking face!” Yoongi says through his laughs, “My stomach. Oh god.”
“Sorry, Joon, sorry!” Hoseok laughs and puts an arm around his boyfriend. Namjoon just sits there looking confused about why the two of them are suddenly laughing. Namjoon is undoubtedly much more sober than the two of them.
“Anyway! Anyway,” Hoseok says once the laughter recedes, “Hyung, so you’re saying that you like it when Seokjin-hyung kisses you on the forehead lovingly and you want him to do it all the time?”
“When you put it like that-” Yoongi grumbles.
“Totally no judgment, hyung,” Namjoon interrupts, “I think you should just say it, hyung! Seokjin-hyung is really easy to talk to.”
“Do you want me to die?”
“How about you just ‘wake up’ while he’s doing it and force a conversation, like a true drama?”
Yoongi puts his head in his hands, “No. You guys are of no help at all.”
“I’m just saying that it’d be totally cute if that happens.”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore, please shut up.”
“Hyung!” the two younger guys whine, but Yoongi just drinks another shot.
“Namjoon, how’s Professor Kim in Music Theory I?”
Namjoon groans, but Yoongi can tell that he’s successful in changing the topic.
“I hate him so much. I always try to see the good in people but this time, hyung, I just want to…”
Yoongi smirks, these two are just too easy.
As Namjoon rants, Yoongi’s mind drifts away. Drifts to the way Seokjin’s lips felt against his cheeks, his forehead, and wonders how they would feel on his own. He wonders what it would take to hear Seokjin call him baby repeatedly, again, and again, and again.
Yoongi’s mind drifts to the way it feels to have his hair stroked when they have movie nights, the sparkle in his eyes when he predicts a plot twist. And that sometimes Seokjin doesn’t stop criticizing a movie when he decides he doesn’t like it; how he would notice every single nook and cranny; rant about things in quick succession that Yoongi fails to keep up. How quietly he listens to the songs Yoongi lets him hear. How he would hug him after and thank him, with utmost sincerity, for letting him listen.
Yoongi’s mind drifts to Seokjin and he realizes how much he likes him. He realizes he likes him, and it feels like a burden was lifted off his shoulders. Like it’s something that he knew all along, and finally, feeling that kept threatening to explode all year suddenly settles, as if this is the only thing it’s been waiting for: his realization.
“I like him.”
Namjoon immediately stops talking.
“I like him,” he repeats. Tears suddenly roll down his cheeks, uncontrollably, rapidly, until he’s sobbing, wiping at his tears with a newfound fierceness. He doesn’t even know why he’s crying.
“Aw, come here, hyung,” Hoseok coos and takes him under his arm, “Don’t cry. It’ll be alright.”
“I’m not really crying, it’s the soju, okay?”
“We know, hyung. We know.”
♡
“Hey, Yoongi.”
“Hey, hyung. Tired?” Yoongi pauses the movie he’s watching and looks over to the door. Seokjin looks tired and weary, like he’d fall asleep at any moment. His cheeks and nose are red from the cold. It’s been almost a week since that night with Hoseok and Namjoon but he remembers his drunk self rambling every time he sees his hyung. He feels his heart clench. Yoongi likes him so much it hurts.
“Mhm. I’ll be in the room.”
After removing his layers, he goes straight into the room and shuts the door without even giving Yoongi a second glance.
‘That kind of day, huh?’ Yoongi thinks. He plays his movie. Of course, Yoongi knows how to deal with such things. Mainly because he experiences them a lot as well. They don’t bother each other when the other needs to recharge. It’s an unspoken rule that just developed through time.
Yoongi tries to watch. He really does. After fifteen minutes, he decides he can’t. He wants to go check up on Seokjin.
He clasps his hands and thinks very hard about the repercussions of what he wants to do are. If he goes there, and Seokjin is still awake, it’s most likely that Seokjin wouldn’t acknowledge him anyway. If he does and asks what he wants, Yoongi could just say that he needs to nap.
Yoongi looks at the clock above the television. Even if it would be an unusual time for him to do so.
Yoongi smiles and figuratively pats himself on the shoulder. Not bad.
Because of the blackout blinds both Yoongi and Seokjin invested in, their room can be quite dark when they want it to be. When Yoongi entered the room, that was the case.
The afternoon light from the living room spills into the bedroom. The unmoving lump on the upper bunk makes it seem like Seokjin is already asleep. For a moment, Yoongi stayed frozen by the door, holding the knob that’s almost just as cold as the lowering temperature outside.
“Hyung?” he calls softly, enough to hear if he’s awake, but not enough to rouse if he’s asleep.
There’s no answer. Yoongi forces his feet to approach.
As his eyes get used to the dark, he realizes that Seokjin had fallen asleep in the clothes he wore outside—something that he knows his hyung would regret. He looks just as tired as he sounded earlier.
Some people sleep like they’re awake; sometimes, their eyes, mouth, or both are ajar because it’s their most relaxed and vulnerable state. But Seokjin has always looked beautiful. Yoongi doesn’t see it much, because Seokjin sleeps later than he does and because he’s at the upper bunk, but now, he sees him, and he sees.
Yoongi thinks that Seokjin is the most beautiful person he knows.
Then, Yoongi realizes how far he has leaned into Seokjin’s face. His heart skips, and the voice in his head panics; it tells him to move away, go out, and go back to watching his movie, but he decides, just for now, that he’d ignore it. He leans in further and brushes the stray hair from his forehead, stares at his hyung’s sleeping face and gently brushes his lips on Seokjin’s forehead. Then, he quietly goes back out and shuts the door.
(In the pitch-black room, Seokjin exhales. Shakily, heavily. Slowly, he touches his fingertips on his forehead; the ghost of Yoongi’s lips still lingering, tingling.)
Seokjin comes out when Yoongi is halfway through his second movie. He looks refreshed and well-rested when he does, and Yoongi’s brain starts to short-circuit and panic all over again.
What if he knows? What if he was actually awake? Yoongi would never live to bear the shame.
“Whatcha watching?”
Yoongi feels like his heart would pop out of his chest. Seokjin sits down and watches the TV screen with mild interest.
“Uh, the Platform.”
“Is it any good?”
Yoongi is floored. He realizes that he hasn’t been paying attention. He pauses the movie and honestly says: “I haven’t been paying attention.”
Seokjin laughs, “That is so like you!”
Yoongi chuckles with him because it is. He sucks at watching movies without Seokjin to make sure to keep his attention on the movie by criticizing it as they watch it. Without him, Yoongi gets bored easily. “Sleep alright?”
“Yeah, Yoongi. Totally,” Seokjin smiles at him. And just like those damn forehead kisses, this smile feels way too different. It feels knowing, like there’s something Seokjin knows and Yoongi doesn’t. Like he’s trying to say something and Yoongi just can’t decipher what it is. He looks away.
Seokjin is quiet for a moment. “Are you hungry, Yoon?”
Yoongi shrugs. He can’t look at Seokjin right now, he just can’t. He’s still willing his heart to slow the fuck down.
“Alright, then. Wait here, okay? Let me cook something quick.”
He won’t look at Seokjin, but he watches him go. He was so consumed by his panic that he didn’t even think of cooking dinner for his tired hyung instead.
Fuck. He closes his eyes and screams inside his head.
“Can I help?” he quickly asks before he can talk himself out of it, “What are you cooking?”
“Oh, you really don’t need to, this will only take ten minutes,” Seokjin holds up the two eggs he’s been holding. On the counter beside him is milk and a little bit of cheese. “We’re running out of groceries so…”
“How about rice?”
“Right,” Seokjin grins at him sheepishly, “Almost forgot about that.”
Yoongi’s mouth quirks up into a small and uncontrollable smile. His heartbeat raced and he wonders just how long he’s liked Seokjin without him realizing it himself.
“And you tell me you didn’t need help.”
“Why?” Seokjin taunts in that specific grandpa-like voice, his eyes wide and his lips pouting exaggeratedly, “I’m just human aren’t I? You want to help, fine you do everything, then! See if you can make an omelet as delicious as mine.”
Yoongi just laughs at him and hits him teasingly at the cheek, “The neighbors will hear you, hyung.”
Seokjin immediately softens up, an unreadable expression on his face. Yoongi walks past him to prepare the rice. “S-so what?” Seokjin replies indignantly. When Yoongi looks at him again, the wide eyes and exaggerated pouty lips of his are back.
Yoongi turns the rice cooker on, “So, what did you do today?”
“Well, if you must know, today was actually my last midterm,” Seokjin says as he cracks eggs in a bowl, “And before you say anything, I felt too tired to go out and drink even though it’s a Friday.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything. You look like you were going to drop dead at the door earlier.”
“That’s because I would’ve! I stayed up so late memorizing and solving shit for that Physics exam. I can’t believe I fell asleep on my outside clothes. So disgusting,” Seokjin scoffs and pours a little bit of milk and the cheese he’s already chopped into the mix. He continues, “I really wanted to sleep until tomorrow, but my stomach woke me up.”
“Still can’t believe that you guys have Physics too,” Yoongi murmured. He leans onto the counter to watch Seokjin.
“Me too,” Seokjin holds a hand out. Yoongi passes him the oil. “I thought you would wake up somehow last night, ‘cause I was cursing all night long.”
“I’m so glad that you’re a deep sleeper,” Seokjin glances at him, and it feels like he’s talking about something different. Sometimes, Seokjin looks at him like he could see through him.
“Yeah,” Yoongi’s cheeks warm, “I’m gonna go check if my professor replied.”
“I’ll call you when it’s done.”
“‘Kay,” Yoongi mumbles and it took everything he had not to run back to their room. As soon as the door shuts close, he clutches at his chest and melts right there on the floor. He thought that admitting to himself that he likes Seokjin would bring him peace, but now he feels so prickly and jumpy; and every look, touch sets off small explosions under his skin.
He doesn’t know how long he stays there on the floor, clutching at his heart like a fool, panicking, spacing out, then starting the cycle all over again. A knock on the door makes him scramble to get up.
“Yoonie? Dinner’s ready.”
Yoongi breathes slowly. In, out.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be right there.”
<<<
“Will you tell him?” Hoseok asked when he finally calmed down.
“How’d you do it?” Yoongi asked, looking at Hoseok’s arm around Namjoon, the fond gazes, the carefree affection.
“Dunno, just blurted it out when the time was right.”
>>>
They eat in relative silence.
Yoongi is nervous because all he’s been is nervous when he’s around Seokjin these days. Silence between them has never been uncomfortable because that’s how they’ve functioned. So Yoongi doesn’t know what’s so different this time. He doesn’t know why he sharply avoids Seokjin’s eyes as if he’d combust the moment they meet his.
“Alright, what is it?”
Yoongi looks at Seokjin with wide eyes. Seokjin places his chopsticks gently on the top of his half-full bowl of rice. He looks at him worriedly, his gaze as soft as the steam that billows from the freshly cooked rice.
Yoongi tilts his head, “What’s, what ?”
“You’ve been acting weird.”
Yoongi’s heart is in his throat, he says, shakily: “I’m not?”
Seokjin stares at him blankly. Yoongi knows that if he looks away, he’d just look guilty.
An unbridled and repressive moment of silence passes. Seokjin was the one to break it.
“Fine,” he sighs, a tinge of exasperation in his voice. He picks his chopsticks back up and resumes eating. Yoongi feels like crying.
“D-don’t talk to me like that! This is your fault! ” he exclaims,
Seokjin forehead scrunches. “Yoongi-”
“You’re the one making me confused!”
“Yoongi. Calm down.”
All of a sudden, the defensiveness, panic, and frustration dissipates. Yoongi deflates. He breathes. Slowly. In, out. In, out. His nose starts to itch with unshed tears.
“Why are you so angry?” Seokjin asks, his voice patient, soothing.
Yoongi’s mouth quivers. He looks down at his lap and his tightly clenched fists. He bites his lip, “I’m sorry.”
A million thoughts race across his mind. The time is not right. He doesn’t want this to happen right now. He’s not ready, his heart isn’t ready. He hasn’t prepared himself for the inevitable rejection he’s about to receive.
“Yoongi,” Seokjin calls, “Please.”
The time is not right. It’s not. And yet, the words spill from Yoongi’s mouth like it’s been waiting to come out.
“I-I’m not like you, hyung,” Yoongi starts, and traitorous tears start to leak down his face, “Please, I-I know being touchy and clingy isn’t a big deal for you, and doing those things don’t mean anything to you, and you do them to all of your friends. But they mean something for me, and you make me so confused and I don’t know what to do with myself, I—”
He sucks in a sharp breath.
“Then… do you want me to stop?”
Yoongi’s head snaps up to look at him. Seokjin said it so gently, yet his brow is furrowed so deeply and the way he’s looking at him—like he’s guilty and in pain. Yoongi’s heart starts to break in two. Seokjin doesn’t like him.
He grits at his teeth. The time is not right.
Yet, the part in him that’s so desperate, so deprived, the part that longs so passionately and so intensely that he cannot breathe claws into the surface; and before he can stop himself, he whispers:
“I like you, hyung.”
He watches as Seokjin’s face goes through a mirage of emotions. He watches Seokjin’s eyes widen. He watches as his eyebrows raise in surprise. As his lips open and sucked in an inaudible breath. As his eyebrows furrowed again. And how tears collected on the bottom of his eyes.
Yoongi’s gaze falls back down on his lap. He swallows.
His voice trembles. “And-and I know. I know so—just until it passes. I know and I’ll do better. I’ll get over it, so please—”
“Yoongi, listen—”
“You don’t have to say anything, because I already—”
“Yoongi!”
Yoongi flinches, surprised. Suddenly, he’s right beside him. Seokjin takes hold of Yoongi’s cheeks between both of his hands, and Yoongi’s forced to look at him. Nothing but him. The tears have streaked on Seokjin’s cheeks. Yoongi is almost overcome with the urge to wipe them.
“I like you too. Yoongi, I have liked you ever since the first time I met you,” Seokjin whispers, “You mean so much to me, and I really wanted to tell you, but I was afraid. I kept being afraid. I didn’t know waiting this long would hurt you. I’m sorry.”
Yoongi can’t do anything but cry. Here he is, crying in front of the man he likes, who’s looking at him like he’s the only one that exists right now, in this moment. It feels like his world has momentarily stopped.
Seokjin lets go of Yoongi’s face. For a brief moment, Yoongi panics and leans in to chase his hands, but then he feels Seokjin’s both of his hands on his own. Seokjin’s smiling now, a little bit wistfully.
“This isn’t really how I planned this to go.”
Yoongi still can’t answer. The tears still won’t stop falling from his face. He must look so ugly right now, with all his tears and snot but Seokjin doesn’t seem to mind.
“Yoongi-yah,” Seokjin nudges, “I’m sorry.”
Yoongi nods. “It’s okay,” he croaks out and immediately cringes, “I like you so much.”
Seokjin brightens, “Can I kiss you?”
Yoongi nods so fervently and so desperately that it makes the elder laugh. Seokjin’s face gets closer to his, very slowly, making room for him to retract if he changes his mind. But Yoongi will not change his mind. Instead, he closes his eyes.
When their lips touch, it’s hesitant. Unfamiliar. Yoongi feels just how soft Seokjin’s lips are. There were no fireworks, no special effects. Nothing inside him exploded.
Yoongi’s head is filled with a singular thought. A thought so loud, so repetitive that he’d remember it much, much later:
This feels right.
♡
“Yoongi? Yoongi.”
He groans and turns away. His eyelids feel like they’re glued together.
“Baby?” Seokjin says, right beside his ear, “You have to wake up, you have class.”
Yoongi, with all his might, opens his eyes. Seokjin’s right there, beside him. Yoongi has an arm around him, and Seokjin’s letting him use his arm as a pillow. He closes his eyes again.
“No.”
Seokjin chuckles, “Yoonie, my arm’s asleep.”
“I don’t care.”
“You’re such a baby,” Seokjin pinches his nose, “I’m not letting you skip class.”
Yoongi says and opens his eyes, “Would you kiss me, then?”
Seokjin smiles at him, that specific smile Yoongi’s been seeing a lot these days, reserved only for him. He strokes Yoongi’s cheek with his thumb. He kisses his forehead, his nose, both his cheeks.
“For you, anything.”
And then, Seokjin presses his lips to his.