Archive of Our Own ^beta

It’s not even summer, spring is barely coming— kind of, but Hoseok feels like dying from hotness.

He grips the bottle even tighter, tries to get some of its chillness. He needs to calm down.

“I can’t anymore, what is it?” Hoseok jumps, surprised, quirks an eyebrow at the man sitting beside him. “Something’s wrong, I can see.”

They are balancing their feet, the ground not far from where they sit. Safe enough.

Hoseok sips and forces himself to swallow the beer. It’s more like a gulp, “I’m just tired, Namjoon.” His gaze is down, nails tipping on the glass, anxiety all around. He is tired.

“Well, go to sleep. A mimir, jalja, whatever.” Namjoon threatens to stand up. “Hasta luego.”

Hoseok huffs, I hate— “Asshole, you know what I mean.” Namjoon shrugs stopping his actions and placing his ass down again, he makes up something like I don’t and then sips his beer, eyes glaring at the dark horizon. “I’m tired of this.”

“Our friendship? Nice to know, dude.” Namjoon lets an airy laugh out, but this time doesn’t show any signs of standing up.

“No, just— Aahhgg! Namjoon, zip it.” Hoseok bursts looking at his friend, the other just presses his lips together and fastens an invisible zipper across his mouth. “Yoongi and I, we— fight. A lot. But I don’t even know why.”

Hoseok looks at Namjoon, who is already looking towards him, eyes glowing with some sort of amusement. Hoseok squints: “What?”

“Can I talk now?”

“You didn’t unzip your mouth.”

Namjoon pinches his lips with his index and thumb, and draws both digits to the opposite side from before. “Right. Now. Can I?” Hoseok nods, sips on his beer, grabs the bottle with both hands and fidgets with it, “I think is good.”

Hoseok frowns and turns his head towards Namjoon, “Don’t look at me like that, bro.”

“Ugh, don’t ever say bro again please.” Hoseok shivers.

Namjoon laughs, “It’s good to fight, means that you care, that you love each other enough to care and get angry with the other.”

“I can’t seem to find a correlation between screaming because of love, and shouting at my face how useless I am.” Hoseok shrugs.

“Well, there’s not really a correlation, but— Have you sat down and talked to him? Tried to understand why he thinks you’re useless?” Namjoon say, and Hoseok instantly shakes his head. “There you go, he’s probably facing some shit, and anger— screaming at you how useless you are, it’s the only way he can cope with his overwhelmed mind.” Namjoon shrugged.

“I still don’t understand, what is it? Why can’t he tell me? Just shout the reason at my face, I don’t’ know.” Hoseok sighs, “We’ve been together for seven years, living together three of them. And don’t even get me started on how long we’ve known each other. We should be able to communicate.”

Namjoon claps his free hand on his thigh, sipping the last of his beer, “You know I don’t really like to compare and I think experiences are different for each person… But—” Namjoon places the empty bottle besides him and turns to his friend, hand kindly pressing on Hoseok’s shoulder. “When Jeongguk and I fight, we give each other space. Once we are calm enough, we sit together, talk, and fix whatever was bothering us.”

Hoseok interrupts: “I am giving Yoongi space, Namjoon. I’ve been sleeping in the guest’s room in the past week. And when I try to talk to him, he shuts me down.” His voice sounds watery, and Namjoon hurts to see his friend hurting.

Namjoon seems to think something for a second, Hoseok’s beer emptying in the meantime: “When was the last time you two went out?”

Hoseok squints, “...What?”

“Yeah, like— go somewhere together: shopping, eating out… I don’t know, to Hawaii. Wherever.”

Hoseok thinks, hand pressed on his chin, tapping, “I don’t know, last year?”

“Are you asking me?” Namjoon blinks, dumbfounded. “Okay, if you can’t fix it here, go, I don’t know— to the beach, for example. You both love it, just enjoy yourselves and try to figure this out in a different…” Namjoon gestures around, “... air.”

Hoseok shoots his eyebrows up and tilts his head, considering.

Later, he walks through his door when the night is well settled, sighing comfortably at the warm feeling of being home. He lets his shoes besides the door and slides in his house slippers. His mind is a mess, he’s tired as if he just spent his whole day doing math exams— when in reality he’s been teaching little kids. His body is spent as if he ran a marathon and the only thing he really needs now is to shower and sleep.

His hand is pressing on his nape, massaging his sore neck while whining out in pain. But Hoseok falls quiet when he reaches the living room: Yoongi is… there.

Why is Yoongi there?... Hoseok looks down at his watch, it’s almost 4 am. Why isn’t he sleeping— Well, no. Yoongi is sleeping, but in the couch, all wrapped on himself and a blanket, neck painfully bent.

All Hoseok’s worries seem to instantly fade away, his mind is less noisy and more murmuring, his furrow is softening and a small smile paints on his lips. He walks towards the couch, still looking at Yoongi.

Hoseok is just— so in love. He would totally go to the moon and back; even beyond that, if the older asks him…, if Yoongi goes with him. A small look at the coffee table tells him Yoongi wasn’t working, he was just drinking tea— an empty cup besides a full one also evidences Yoongi was waiting for me, and he kind of feels bad.

With a sad sigh, Hoseok hovers over the sleeping body and tugs the blanket away. Places one of his arms around his neck, the other one around the crook of his knees, between Yoongi’s thighs and calves. Then slowly brings the smaller body towards him, lifting it without flinching, like a daily routine.

Hoseok shushes when Yoongi seems to wake up, “You are okay, I got you:” Groggy arms wrap around his chest, face hiding in the crook of his neck. Lazy lips placing lazy kisses and Hoseok wants to cry.

He gets to the big room without problem, placing Yoongi down in the mattress, tucking him between the bed sheets. Hoseok hesitates, hand hovering against Yoongi’s brow. I miss kissing him goodnight.

A tear makes it down into the covers, Hoseok deciding on caressing his lover’s cheek quickly and walks away towards the closet. Rummaging fast he grabs a change of underwear and his pyjamas, locking himself in the bathroom.

Being a crybaby seems to be my aesthetic. And he’s pressing his brow in the cold tiles, water running down his spine, arms heavy on his sides, eyes closed.

Hoseok’s being as quiet as he can, tears are running down his face, heart is clenching and lungs screaming. Doesn’t want to wake Yoongi, he just hasn’t got the energy to fight tonight.

The water is running cold before he can realise, so he hurries the soap and hair products around his body, rubbing his face three times to make sure the redness is everywhere— not just heavy on his eyes and nose.

Hoseok is quick to dry his body, and dress into his pyjamas, turning off the lights before stepping out of the bathroom, not wanting to disturb Yoongi’s sleep.

With the dirty clothes and towel hugged to his chest, he closes the bathroom’s door quietly and makes his way across the bedroom towards the door.

“Hoseok.”

Not now, not— “Yoongi,” Sigh, “not tonight, please.” He begs, still facing the door, breath trembling.

There’s a beat of silence, the air blowing hard against the windows is the only sound heard; “... It’s cold.” Yoongi mumbles, barely a murmur, and Hoseok seems to be the only human with the ability to hear it.

“I’ll bring you an extra cover from the other—”

“No.” Hoseok shoulders sink, an exhausted sigh leaves his chest through his lips. He’s ready to leave the room. I can’t, not today, not right now, not— “... The bed is cold.”

His head shoots up, body turning to the bed, eyes studying the huddled man.

Yoongi has his eyes everywhere but on Hoseok, right hand scratching his upper opposite arm, left hand stroking Hoseok’s side of the bed.

Hoseok breathes, it burns, it hurts, it stings, he can’t, not tonight, not right— “... please?”

Fuck it. He lets the dirty clothes fall from his hands onto the floor, softly shutting the door close behind him. Hoseok takes his time, slowly making his way to the side, eyes never leaving Yoongi’s.

Hoseok places a knee on the mattress, then a hand, the other knee, his ass— Yoongi’s quietly watching him. He hands Hoseok the thick covers, both lay down and throw the sheets over their shoulders.

They face each other— The bed isn’t that big but it seems like their bodies are kilometres apart. Their eyes are widely open, studying, questioning, guessing. Should I…?

Yoongi is the one who opens his arms, straightens his back, pulls his chest out— a clear invitation. Hoseok burst in tears.

It’s just overwhelming, how much he loves him. Hoseok loves Yoongi so much he can’t stay angry, not matter how much his words hurt— being away hurts more. And Hoseok knows and understands Yoongi loves him and is hurting a lot too, the frozen tea in the coffee table is one proof— the open arms, another one.

Yoongi shushes, pulling the other’s body into his arms, securing them around Hoseok’s chest and neck, hands softly caressing his back and hair.

Hoseok calms down after what feels like hours, loud sobs quieting till they become short pants and sniffs. Yoongi is humming a lullaby, vocal vibrations against Hoseok’s cheek, and he really want to kiss that spot between his collar bones.

Yoongi doesn’t stop rubbing his hands on Hoseok’s hair and back, he strokes and holds him until Hoseok’s drowsy and his eyelids are heavy and dreamland is around the corner and— “I love you, Hobi. I’m sorry I made you sad.”

No, don’t be sorry, I love you too, I’m not sad now, I love you, don’t be sorry, don’t— But his brain doesn’t seem connected to his mouth, it shuts down instead, and sleep drags him away.

Hoseok wakes up and it's early— his eyes are swollen, throat hoarse, lips dry. His body feels totally restless, mind already rushing through bad thoughts.

He has a painful headache and feels heavy with sleep, a shiver runs down his spine, the need to stretch his limbs unbearable… but he can't.

So Hoseok finally opens his eyes, but he wishes to never have done it— a sorrowful wave crashes in his chest, tears coming to his eyes.

Yoongi’s hair is messy, spread across his forehead and covering his eyes, he needs a haircut, his nose is pink and Hoseok knows is cold, Yoongi’s nose is always cold. His hands too, that's why he likes to hold them against his and warm them.

But Hoseok wants to cry because Yoongi is in the bed, with him, holding his body tightly— there's no worry lines between his eyebrows, and his lips are parted letting heavy breaths come out; deep sleep.

Hoseok smiles, but a sneaky tear escapes anyway so he needs to get away, he feels trapped and his breath is thickening, he’s trapped, needs to breathe, deep breaths and calm down, he’s trapped, trapped and can't breathe, I need to— Yoongi shushes, “Calm down, it's okay. I’ve got you.”

Hoseok cries, and Yoongi holds him tight once again.

When he opens his eyes once again, the room is overflowed with sunlight, the bed is empty, and Hoseok’s headache seems ten times worse.

He holds the ball of his hands against his closed eyelids, pressing hard to ease the pain— it doesn't work. Hoseok gets up anyway, walks towards the bathroom, hunching over the sink and spraying water on his face, cold water. He needs to wake up.

Massaging his temples, he walks out of the room, towards the kitchen, he could use some coffee. Or some vodka, maybe. But Hoseok stops in his tracks, chest tightening and heart clenching, breath is trapped and room spinning. Breathe, breathe, breathe— “I’m leaving.”

Hoseok blinks, he’s not breathing, he’s not crying, he’s not— “You are leaving...” Yoongi nods, “... Okay.”

Yoongi frowns, “Okay?” he sounds pissed, Hoseok walks to the kitchen, gets a mug, “What d’you mean okay?”

And Yoongi’s voice is raising and Hoseok’s head really hurts, “I don't know, Yoongi.” He sighs, instant coffee half way out his usual place. “If you wanna leave, s’okay… I guess— I don't wanna fight.”

Yoongi seems froze, blinks slowly, Hoseok can almost see his brain working. “You want me to leave?”

Hoseok’s head hurts a hundred, a thousand, a million times more. Hurts, breathe, think, hurts— “No, but you do.”

Hoseok turns back to the empty mug. He seems to have suddenly forgotten how to mix coffee.

“I can't keep you locked up to avoid you leaving, it doesn't work like that.” Hoseok breathes, “Your feelings are valid too, and if you feel like leaving then you leave, it's okay,” He closes his eyes, a tear falls against the counter, “... I love you, no matter what.”

And there's no verbal response, it's just steps walking far and away, then it’s the front door closing. Hoseok's knees give up, sobs fill the silence.

After what feels like forever, he stands up, rubs his face and stomps down the corridor to the bedroom. Hoseok angrily throws his clothes around, rummaging through the colourful fabric and picking out random clothes— pressing them into his own bag.

He’s not leaving, I’m leaving. Hoseok stomps towards the door, steps into his boots and slips into his coat. Then he grabs his keys and wallet before storming out, door shutting loudly behind him.

He walks down the stairs, he’s angry, pissed, he needs to calm down, he needs to breathe and calm down— he reaches the ground floor and realises: he’s still wearing his pyjamas.

Hoseok huffs, shoulders sinking, the angry pant calming down. He holds his hand up and rubs his face, he needs to let the anger free. He needs to find Yoongi, Yoongi needs to stay.

His breath starts quickening again. Calm down, you can breathe, you need to think and— there's a body crouched over itself at the other side of the building’s front door. It's shaking, shivering, but it doesn't seem like it's cold…, seems like crying.

Hoseok brows frown once again, his breathe become messy and his feet stomp towards the double, glass door. The anger is back.

“Get back inside.” Hoseok says, I’m angry, I’m sad. Hoseok wonders why is Yoongi crying if he’s the one that wants to leave.

I love you, don't cry.

Yoongi looks up, face swollen and tears never seem to stop, don't cry. His face wrinkles in confusion, Yoongi sniffs, he runs the back of his hand across his nose and snorts.

“Go inside.” Hoseok repeats, “I’m leaving.”

And now is Yoongi crying, but Hoseok is not holding him, he’s just standing there repeating don't cry don't cry don't cry in his head, like a mantra.

Hoseok blinks his tears away, turns around and walks to the car. The streets are empty enough to avoid prying gazes. He unlocks the doors and climbs the driver’s seat, throwing the bag to the back seats.

Hoseok breathes deeply and inserts the key in the panel besides the wheel. Don't look, it's okay, don't cry, he's safe— the passenger seat door opens.

Sighs and, “Get out, please,” Hoseok closes his eyes, forehead falling forward into the wheel, “Go upstairs and stay, I’ll leave instead.”

Hoseok can't see it but Yoongi shakes his head and crosses his arms against his chest, “No. If you leave, I leave.” Then he humphs annoyed, “Drop me at Taehyung's.”

“Yoongi stop making this difficult, let me—”

“I’m making this difficult?!” He shouts and Hoseok’s head is still hurting, a shiver runs down is spine. “You are the one that wants to copy me and leave too.”

“Don’t be childish! You are being ridiculous right now.” Hoseok explodes, “Is this a game?! For you, our relationship, is it a game?” Hoseok raises his head back up, “There's not copying in this, Yoongi. This is me trying to make sure you are safe and comfortable.” He looks angrily at his side, “Because I know how anxious you feel when crashing at Taehyung's ‘cuz you feel like a burden. Because I know you need to have at least five different changes of clothes ‘cuz your dressing style depends on your mood, and there's no way five attires fitted in that bag.”

Hoseok breathes, it hurts, it stings, it— “Because I love you and I want the best for you… Even if you don't love me back anymore, I’ll always put your well-being before mine.”

And Yoongi is crying again, and mumbling nonsense. Hoseok is tired and his head is still hurting, he can't understand what Yoongi’s saying but his head seems to be stuck in even if you don't love me back, and he really needs to hear it from Yoongi to believe it. Last night impossibly closer to a dream.

But Yoongi is choking on his sobs and is still exhaling senselessness words. Something in Hoseok's brain clicks and brings back Namjoon's words about an escapade; and also brings Yoongi's words back: “I’m sorry I made you sad.” And it clicks that maybe Yoongi wants to protect him too, wants him to be happy, putting his own happiness behind.

“Put on the seatbelt.” Hoseok twirls the key and the car roars alive. Yoongi cries louder but complies.

The first red light appears ten minutes after leaving their apartment behind. Yoongi is still crying and sobbing uncontrollably.

Hoseok shuts his eyes close. It hurts, chest is tight, stings, itches. Breathe. Hoseok opens his eyes again, shushes. “It's okay.” His hand briefly touches Yoongi's thigh, squeezes lightly, “I love you.”

Yoongi just cries.

Yoongi fell asleep shortly after the car got into the highway, Hoseok’s hand found its way to Yoongi’s thigh once again, caressing the limb slowly. His breath sounds choked, his head throbs. Hoseok moves his hand away. It hurts.

Sighing, Hoseok looks down to the digital controls— the fuel indicator it’s low, not dead at all, but he needs to stop soon.

He does so about an hour later, the need to breathe stronger than he could manage. Breathe, breathe, breathe— “Hello?” The dialling ring stops when the phone is answered.

Hoseok sobs, “Namjoon.”

“Hey, hey, Hoseok, don’t…” Inhaling deeply, eyes fixed on the cars passing at high speed, Hoseok evens his breaths, back pressed against his car. “Are you okay? Where are you?”

Hoseok pushes his back away from the parked car, legs trembling, hands shaking while ruffling his hair. “I’m with Yoongi, somewhere in Daejeon, probably.”

The line was quiet for a moment, “Where are you going?” Hoseok shrugs, I don’t know, “I’ll message you the address to Jeongguk’s house.”

“Busan…?” Namjoon confirms, “You think I should go that far?”

“If you want to… It’s just a couple more hours.” Hoseok looks back into the parked car.

The afternoon sun allows him to get a glimpse of Yoongi’s nose pressed against the glass. It’s not clear but Hoseok knows it’s red, cold. Yoongi’s nose is always cold.

“He wanted to leave. This morning.” Hoseok mumbles, there’s a ball in his throat and he doesn’t breathe, he can’t. “I woke up and he had a bag… He said the words and everything. He’s going to leave me, Namjoon… And I couldn’t—” Hoseok’s voice cracks.

Even if he isn’t watching his friend face to face, he can tell Namjoon is worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “Did you lock the apartment?” Hoseok denies, “Listen: go to Busan, spent some days there. Don’t worry about anything else, I’ll take care of everything.”

Hoseok feels his eyes filling with tears. It hurts, “Thank you, Namjoon, so much.”

They say goodbye, Namjoon wishes him luck, reminds him to be careful, everything’s going to be alright eventually. Hoseok gets into the car, driving through the highway once again.

His mind is blank, for the best. And during the almost three more hours the journey lasted, Yoongi never woke up; or if he did, he didn’t show.

Hoseok was glad about it— Yoongi being asleep, he needed to focus on the road, to keep his mind as calm as possible until they arrive safe and sound. There’s going to be plenty of time to think and worry his head with these bad feelings later. Not now, not here, later, later… Someday. Later.

It’s around six in the afternoon when they enter Busan. Hoseok pulling out his phone in the first red light they caught on. He goes to the navigation app and types the address Namjoon sent, quickly getting the directions and arriving in no time.

Hoseok parks the car outside Jeongguk’s house and sighs. He has to wake Yoongi up. Just as he’s stepping out of the car, a woman steps out of the house, a big smile adorning her lips.

“Are you Hoseok?” She asks, and Hoseok has the audacity to look besides him before pointing to his chest, a little dumbfounded.

The woman’s shoulder shake when she silently laughs. “I’m Jisook, Jeongguk’s mother.” She smiled, and Hoseok could clearly see the similarities, “He called me to check everything before you arrived. Also…” She extended her hands, placing two groups of keys, “..., these are for the house and the garage, and these others are for the back.”

Hoseok politely bows and thanks the woman, “If you need anything, my phone number and address are scribbled in a paper on the fridge.” Hoseok keeps thanking her, wishing her a good night while she walks away, gets in her own car and drives.

Hoseok looks at the keys and gets inside the car, activating the automatic garage gate and driving into the building. Once he closes the gate again, and finds the way into the house from the garage, he gets his and Yoongi’s bag into the living room.

Quickly studying the house, Hoseok learns there’s three bedrooms upstairs, each with its own bathroom. In the ground floor there’s the living room, the dining room, and the kitchen all mixed together, just separated by a long kitchen island and a well packed bookshelf.

There was a whole wall made of glass, the backyard completely seen, and there’s a covered pool and a small warehouse. It’s nice, and Hoseok feels like breathing for the first time, lungs aching.

“Yoongi, Yoongi…” He shakes the unmoving body, slowly and carefully, “Yoongi, I need you to climb on me, c’mon.” Yoongi stirs and mumbles something, lethargic limbs letting themselves be manipulated by Hoseok. “There you go, hold on tight.”

Yoongi does as he’s told, nuzzling in the crook of Hoseok’s neck. Hoseok feels like crying. Slowly, he handles Yoongi’s sleepy body to the second floor, kicking further open the door he previously left halfway closed.

Hoseok’s heart hurts whilst placing his lover’s body down the bed. Slowly, he untangles Yoongi’s hands from around his neck, and steps away. Should I…? No, I don’t think I should.

Hoseok leaves the room after carefully placing his coat over Yoongi’s huddled body. Yoongi is cold, Yoongi is always cold.

And Hoseok can’t warm him up right now.

When Yoongi awakens he jolts up. This is not Taehyung’s house. This bedroom is completely strange to him, the decorations too cold to his like. He blinks a couple of times and rubs his hands against his eyes, wake up, wake up, wake— Hoseok’s hideous coat slips into the floor, Yoongi shivers but calms down.

I’m with Hobi, I’m fine, Hoseok’s here, it’s fine…  where is here?

Looking around it’s dark, the only real light coming from the moon and the stars, but besides the fact there’s sheets in the bed; it doesn’t feel like someone lives here— too cold and impersonal.

After finding a bathroom and freshening up, he decides against his own coat, changing it for Hoseok’s— it’s bigger, swallows him whole, it’s warmer and smells better, smells like home.

Yoongi feels the urge to cry again, he hates— There’s noise downstairs. Yoongi follows it, and then cries.

In the kitchen is Hoseok, he’s changed the clothes he was wearing that same morning, his hair is wet so Yoongi guesses he had a shower. He’s cooking and by the smell Yoongi can tell is his favourite dish, and there’s no way he loves him so much. Why is Hoseok so precious? Why is he still here? How can he be so—

“No, don’t cry, not again, please.” Hoseok turns off the stove and hurries besides his shaking body, “Here, sit down.” Warm hands guide him to a stool and help him get on it.

Hoseok goes away for a second and comes back with a glass of water, placing a reassuring hand on Yoongi’s shoulder, he encourages him to sip the clear liquid. “What’s wrong, Yoongi?”

“No—” Yoongi chokes with a sob, “Don’t— No Yoongi, no—” He whines, “I’m— You— Not Yoongi, please.” He’s a sobbing mess and can’t properly breathe so he’s choking out the words, and is highly probable Hoseok doesn’t understand, but Yoongi needs him to.

Yoongi needs him. His breaths are shorter, he’s choking on air, air, air, air. His head is spinning, he needs— he feels dizzy, the room’s spinning. Short breaths, no. Long breaths, I can’t. I can’t, please Hoseok, I can’t—

Hoseok softly shushes him, “Here, please look at me.” Yoongi does so, he looks at him, at Hoseok, “Breathe, Yoongi, breathe.”

Hoseok takes a deep breathe, Yoongi copies him— I can’t, I can’t, Hoseok, closer, hold me, please, I need— he chokes and continues ugly sobbing.

I need to hide, I need to go, he hates me, he doesn’t want me near. Please, please hold me, please—

Hoseok shushes him again, and it’s like he read his mind because he scoots closer, “Listen, look at me, and let’s breathe together, can you?” Yoongi is still choking but looks at him anyway, “C’mon, in…” Hoseok inhales, “… hold a little…” He does as he said, and then exhales, “... and out. Again.”

And Yoongi is doing it, he’s breathing as deep as he can, and he’s holding it but he’s still crying and choking sobs out. Air, air, Hoseok please.

“Shit, okay.” Hoseok holds Yoongi’s shoulders tight with both his hands, “I’m sorry if I’m overstepping but I can’t see you like this.”

And then Yoongi’s cheek is pressed against a warm chest, arms wrapping around his neck and hands holding his head, fingers threading on his hair. Hoseok is stroking his nape, holding Yoongi strongly against his chest. “Breathe, you are okay.”

Hoseok himself is breathing, and Yoongi realises his ear is placed right above Hoseok’s heart and— tuh-tumb tuh-tumb tuh-tumb. It’s fast, but Hoseok is breathing and succeeding to bring it down.

“You are okay.” Hoseok repeats in a whisper, and his mouth is moving right against Yoongi’s hair. Yoongi wants a kiss— Kiss, Seokie, kiss, please.

Hoseok’s heart skips a beat, Yoongi can listen. His breath also seems trapped for a second. “Later, baby, I promise. We need to talk first.”

And Yoongi is choking on sobs again, talk, Hoseok wants to talk.

Hoseok keeps shushing him, still pressing his head to his chest. It seems like hours, the hotness the kitchen was filled in slowly disappearing, a cold breeze coming from somewhere. Yoongi shivers.

“Let me close the door.” Hoseok says, and untangles his arms from Yoongi’s upper body.

Yoongi wants to protest, but doesn’t— he’s not in the place to.

When Hoseok appears back Yoongi is more focused on the glass of water, the other goes directly to the stove and gets hands on the still steaming pot.

Everything is silent after, the only sounds come from Hoseok moving around the kitchen and finishing the dish. Yoongi keeps silently crying, fidgeting with the now empty glass.

When Hoseok turns around with the cutlery, he’s crying as well. None of them comment on the other’s condition, just sitting in silence eating the soup— tears falling down their cheeks.

It’s after they are done eating, Yoongi had showered and changed clothes while Hoseok cleaned the kitchen, they seat together outside.

It’s cold, a freezing wind blows over them, bringing shivers that reach their bones. They don’t care.

The moon is shining brightly, stars surrounding her, it’s beautiful and Yoongi can hear the waves crash in the shore at a far distance. Where…?

“Busan.” Hoseok seems to have read his mind, “I called Namjoon, Jeongguk offered.”

I didn’t even— Yoongi wants to cry.

“What about—” Yoongi’s voice is hoarse, too much crying.

“Namjoon took care, we have a week.”

Yoongi feels a silent tear sliding down his cheek.

“Hoseok—” Yoongi voice breaks. I love you.

“Are you serious? Do you really want to leave?” Hoseok is not looking at him, and it hurts, it hurts so much. “‘Cause if you want—” his voice cracks too, “If you want, you can…” Tears are flooding down Hoseok’s face again, “I was serious this morning, I love you no matter what…, even if you don’t love me back.”

And Yoongi, Yoongi is a mess, “No, no, no, no, no—” he chokes.

Hoseok is perfect, because even if there’s no reason for Yoongi to feel like this, Hoseok understands and wants Yoongi’s happiness before his own. And Yoongi hates himself, hates, hates.

Hoseok waits until he calms down, “I don’t want to.” Yoongi is still looking down, his feet seem more interesting, “To leave, I mean— I don’t want to leave.”

Yoongi barely catches it, but Hoseok exhales in some kind of relief.

“Then why—”

“Because you want me to.” Yoongi interrupts, now looks up and holds his gaze locked to Hoseok’s. He seems like he’s going to say something, but Yoongi goes in first, “You’ve been acting weird, like I was bothering you. You— you were coming in really late, and we weren’t sharing our meals like usual, and—” He hiccups, “And we— we haven’t had sex in a while… And I thought— I thought… Maybe you don’t want me anymore. You don’t love me anymore but you don’t wanna break my heart. So, I decided to make it easier:” Yoongi lowers his gaze once again, “Break myself. Even if it sounds cringy.” He lets out an airy laugh, it’s not amused, it’s more like a coping mechanism.

Hoseok flinches closer, “Can I…?” And he is extending his arms towards Yoongi, and Yoongi is really confused right now but nods anyway.

Warm, Yoongi feels warm spread around his chest right after Hoseok hugged him closer, placing his body on his lap, long arms strongly holding his waist.

Yoongi curls up against Hoseok, “I love you, so much, so very much.” Hoseok mumbles against his temple, “I didn’t realise I wasn’t saying it enough.”

Yoongi nods, barely, but Hoseok feels it, “When you said it this morning, I thought you were lying, that you were saying it just because.”

Something wet slides through the side of his head and falls against his shoulder. Yoongi opens his eyes and finds Hoseok silently crying. His voice is watery and shaky when he asks about all the fights.

Yoongi wraps his arms around his neck, and finds his favourite spot in the crook, nuzzling against the smooth skin. “I couldn’t bare you being distant, I wanted a reaction.” He mumbles, “But it was hurting you and I was being selfish while convincing myself that I didn’t care.” sniff, “So, yesterday when you came back and you held me, tucked me in, and then cried in the shower— Hoseok,” whine, “I realised you were hurting, and I thought that me leaving would be easier for the two of us,” Yoongi finds the way out of the warm spot and looks at the other, “..., that if I left, you wouldn’t need to go through the burden of asking me to leave.”

Hoseok is still crying, Yoongi doesn’t feel like he has any more tears, but his chest stings.

Yoongi sniffs, “I’m sorry, I thought—”

“I know,” Hoseok cuts him, holding him tighter, “I know and it’s my fault you felt it.” Hoseok is the one hiding in the crook of Yoongi’s neck now, “I should have realised, should have told you, should have— should’ve been better.”

As Yoongi shakes his head while tightening his arms around Hoseok. “No, it’s not—” Hoseok jolts away from his spot and it startles Yoongi, he falls quiet.

“I want to marry you.” Yoongi shuts his mouth, eyes getting impossibly big, “And you deserve the world, love, you deserve the best.” Hoseok is looking right into his eyes, the tears have slightly stopped, but his breath is still spasming, “And I’m a kindergarten teacher, I can’t afford the best.”

Hoseok looks away, shifting uncomfortably, but his hands are still gripping tightly around Yoongi’s waist.

“So I picked an extra job, nothing much, just a late shift at a pizza place.” sniff, “And I didn’t realise, I swear— I was so worn out after the double work, all these hours running from place to place…” Hoseok looks at him again, “I didn’t think about all this... the sex, the lack of words— your feelings. When you started getting angry and yelling, hurting, I decided to give you some space, some... time, so you wouldn’t feel angry forever.” sniff, “So you’d hang in there for a little more until I had the money.”

Hoseok rubs his face against his shoulder once again, breath uneven, “The money to buy a pretty ring, and a nice dinner with luxury drinks— just like in these movies you love to watch.”

“Seok—”

“Yoongi, please, I am so sorry, I love you— I’ve never stopped…” His breath is unstable, “And I don’t think I’m going to stop any time soon.” Hoseok is rubbing his face against Yoongi’s chest, “I’m sorry I made you feel like this, I promise I’ll be better. Just don’t—”

“Stop, no— stop.” Yoongi interrupts, “You fucking asshole how can you even think for a second you are no perfect just now.” Hoseok shivers, Yoongi grabs his face with both hands and fixes their gazes together. “You are perfect, the most perfect best friend,” Yoongi leaves a kiss on Hoseok’s forehead, “..., the most perfect boyfriend,” He kisses his nose, “..., and I bet you are going to be the most perfect husband ever.” Yoongi is looking at him, and Hoseok is looking back so intently, so lovely.

Yoongi wants to scream and throw all these mixed feeling away so he can refill himself with pure love. Just for Hoseok. I love you.

“I’m never going to leave you, not because I want to, at least.” sniff, “I love you too much to even think about a life without you.” Yoongi smiles, caressing Hoseok’s cheeks with his thumbs, “And I’ll never stop loving you, not even when I die.” Hoseok grips his waist tighter, sighs, leans against Yoongi’s touch, “I’ll love you forever, in this life and all the other ones that might follow.”

Hoseok is the one who leans in for a kiss, stopping just before their lips could meet, “Can I ki—” Yoongi doesn’t let him finish, he simply shortens the distance completely and places their lips together.

It’s innocent, it’s sweet, no rush. It’s not even deep, it’s just a long peck.

But it’s perfect because Yoongi is kissing the love of his every life, and Hoseok’s lips are always so smooth, so warm, so for him.

The kiss breaks but not for long, “I—” a peck on Yoongi’s left cheek, “want—” a peck on Yoongi’s nose, “to kiss you—” another peck on Yoongi’s right cheek, “forever.”

And they are kissing again, lips softly pressed on each other, slow breaths mixing together, warm hands tightly gripping each other’s body— Yoongi is holding Hoseok’s face, and Hoseok has his arms around Yoongi’s waist.

Both gripping, strongly holding, as if one of them is going to disappear if they let go. Don’t leave me, I’m not going to leave you, I’m here and I love you.

I love you.

“Forever?” Yoongi breaks the kiss. Hoseok firmly nods, eyes never leaving Yoongi’s, “A big promise you got there, mhm?” Yoongi rubs his cold nose against Hoseok’s cheek, closing his eyes.

A hand grips Yoongi’s chin and raises his head. When he opens his eyes again, Hoseok is looking at him like he was the reason the universe happened. Their mouths were so close that if Yoongi tried to lick his lips he would touch Hoseok’s.

“Marry me?” Hoseok is not blinking, “Marry me and let’s have forever, let’s kiss forever.”

Yoongi smiles, nods, and they are kissing again. The press of their mouths is deeper this time, they can even taste the love. So full, so great.

“Wait—” Hoseok says and breaks the kiss, “Do you want the dinner and drinks?”

“Wha—”

“For the proposal, I mean.” Yoongi squints, “Because if you want them, forget all this and pretend you don’t know until I get the money, just a little longer then—” Yoongi shushes Hoseok and shakes his head.

“Because I like rom-coms with all these cheesy confessions and stupidly dramatic proposals, it doesn’t mean I want it too.” Yoongi caresses Hoseok’s cheek, lovingly, “Actually, I would rather you texting me, with those cute emojis you love to use, before having to go through the discomfort of having a bunch of intrusive eyes on us.”

Hoseok smiles, kisses him once more, and then places Yoongi down beside him. “Give me a second.” He pecks Yoongi’s lips again and walks inside.

Yoongi frowns, confused, but he’s so happy that the annoying feeling doesn’t last for long. He just smiles and lets his head fall backwards until is resting against the back of the sofa he’s sitting on.

His phone suddenly vibrates but Yoongi doesn’t even flinch, he just ignores it, waiting for Hoseok to come back.

But the evil thing keeps vibrating and it’s so annoying that with a defeated sigh he takes it out and unlocks it.

It’s Hoseok, telling him to check his phone repeatedly. Yoongi frowns again and looks towards the house. Hoseok’s there, in the middle of the living room, looking at him.

Why are you messaging me,,? Yoongi replies and looks inside again.

Hoseok smiles and types an answer, fingers flying on his screen. Yoongi’s phone vibrates on his hand, a bunch of messages entering, one following the other, no rest.

Would you be my husband?

Be my forever and ever?

Be my life partner?

Be my ‘until death tear us apart’?

Will you marry me?

Yoongi can feel a burst of happiness exploding in his chest, making him laugh, filling every blood cell with a euphoric feeling that goes all the way towards his heart— full with love. There are tears filling his eyes, when he tries to start typing an answer.

But Hoseok sends another message, Check the inside of my coat., and Yoongi’s hands fly to his own chest, phone forgotten placed on the couch, frantically pushing them both towards the insides, looking for who knows what, and why is there so many pockets in this huge coat.

But then— “Please? Emoji, emoji, emoji.” Hoseok says, besides him, looking down at Yoongi.

Yoongi blinks, looking at the newfound small thing, it’s silver, a medium diamond in the middle. Yoongi binks again and looks up at Hoseok.

Hoseok is looking at him, still standing beside him, a soft smile is stretching his lips, “Here,” Hoseok takes the ring from Yoongi’s fingers. “I wanted to add a pink quartz, which is a mineral supposed to open your heart, to let it be more receptive to love… But they said engagement rings don’t work like that.”

Hoseok pouts. Cute.

And then he kneels down, his finger pointing at the diamond, “But they let me get a diamond! Just the classic, you know. But it brings happiness! …and perseverance!” Hoseok looks up again, a big smile and eyes full of love, gaze easily finding Yoongi’s. “It’s medium sized because I know you don’t like to wear jewels for work.” Hoseok smile somehow gets bigger, eyes shining. “Also! It doesn’t have a box cause I wanted to be extremely cheesy and put it on a champagne glass— but, well…”

The ring is in between Hoseok’s fingers, Hoseok is kneeling on one knee, and he’s looking right into Yoongi’s eyes, “Would you marry me? Please?” And he pouts.

“Why are you so cute…” And Yoongi is crying, ugly crying, while mouthing countless yeses and holding Hoseok’s cheeks to smack their lips together.

Hoseok laughs, lips still pressing together, “Don’t cry, I love you.”

Yoongi cries even more. Happy tears.

They get all tangled, skin tangled, right after talking everything out— a second time, to be as clear as possible. It’s hot, sticky, warm. Such a long time, the muscle strain there even during the next morning, Yoongi making pancakes for them both and struggling to stay standing. Legs worn out.

A deep voice greets him, “Good morning, sunshine.” Turning around, Yoongi encounters a mess for a human. The prettiest mess.

Hoseok’s hair is pointing everywhere, falling free over his forehead. His eyes are barely open, hand curled up into a fist and rubbing the tiredness out. Unlikely Yoongi, Hoseok’s wearing just a simply sweater— Yoongi’s sweater.

Hoseok’s shoulders are just not broad enough to keep it in place. Therefore, Yoongi can clearly see the purple hickeys (yes, plural) decorating a side of his neck, his collarbones, disappearing below the fabric.

But, Yoongi put them there. So, naturally, Yoongi knows where they continue. All the way down, passing by his nipples, on his nipples, his abdomen— bites and bruises around his hipbones.

“Who are you calling sunshine, sunshine?” Hoseok giggles. Giggles. Yoongi’s heart might just explode right there.

“Oh, right.” Hoseok walks closer, entering Yoongi’s personal bubble to wrap his arms around his neck.

Their foreheads press together, noses place one besides the other, and breaths fall hot into their mouths— a mere inch apart.

When Hoseok talks again, their lips brush together, even so lightly, but they do. Yoongi wants to kiss— “Good morning, husband-to-be.” —so, Yoongi kisses.

Hoseok’s ass ends up being placed on the counter, legs wrapped around Yoongi’s hips. Kisses lazy, but strong. Two pair of hands running up and down Hoseok’s thighs, and Yoongi’s naked arms.

It isn’t supposed to be hot. But Hoseok’s breath cuts when Yoongi’s hand goes much too close to his groin— naked cock twitching ever so slightly. And is so hot how he seems to melt into the kiss, sighing pleased, that Yoongi needs to squeeze— so, he does. And Hoseok moans, a hiss of pain mixed in between.

Yoongi frowns, “Hurts?” squeezes, light pressure, to emphasise. Hoseok nods, blush creeping up his upper chest, pretty neck, and cute cheeks.

Yoongi’s frown deepens, a sound of confusion. “Was it too rough just now?” Hoseok shakes his head, legs untangling from Yoongi’s body to open even more. “Last night?”

And Hoseok’s face couldn’t be redder when he leans back, nodding while pressing his palms against the counter, right leg stretching up to the ceiling.

Yoongi’s just a mere human. A mere, horny, human.

The first thing Yoongi notices, right when he thought getting Hoseok all bent just last night, in ways that shouldn’t be humanly possible, was as flexible as it was gonna get; he’s proven that, in a fact, it is not— it can get even more flexible.

Then, the thigh— on it. Hickeys. All over his right thigh, surely on the other too, tracing the way until Hoseok’s ass. Purple much darker than on his neck, and when Yoongi reaches closer to admire, there’s some red on them. Bitten hard.

The last thing Yoongi’s eyes catch up on is what makes his knees wobble. Hoseok’s hole seems to be still stretched out, gleaming thanks to the remaining lube. There are some cum stains surrounding the area, closer to the beginning of his thighs. And even if Yoongi was there— witnessed, first hand, the whole thing, it still feels like whiplash.

It’s just an ass hole. Yoongi thinks to himself while his knees try to give up. But it’s the prettiest, filthiest, tightest ass hole. He convinces and nods, reaching forward to wrap his hands around Hoseok’s waist.

Yeah, the pancakes are completely forgotten.

The day passes by smoothly, they just lay down together on every soft surface around the house. First is the bed, hot touches everywhere, soft kisses— slow paced. Later, showering together, intimate, innocent, smiling kisses shared under the showerhead.

They move to the couch, munching the cold pancakes while cuddled up together. A random movie plays in the background but nor Hoseok or Yoongi could tell what was it about— share lazy kisses further up on a priorities list.

The end of the day arrives and both men decide on eating outside, at the garden, the night weather nice enough— an easy dish cooked by them together. The fried meat almost burns when what was supposed to be a mere peck ends up deeper and wet, full of spit— but it’s not big deal.

And if the supposed to be innocent meal, just two men in love looking up to the sky, ends up with a lapdance, shameless dick grinding, and— “Did you just come?” Hoseok asks, eyes opened impossibly bigger.

Yoongi groans, cries a complaint: “I’m gonna have to shower again.”

The second shower is not as innocent and soft as the first one— drops of Hoseok’s cum disappearing down the plughole, Yoongi’s scalp sore, lips shiny and swollen.

The next day is not as eventful as the previous ones, though. Yoongi and Hoseok wash their clothes, taking advantage of the sunny day to dry them. Have a nice lunch in the garden, once again. Weather windy but warm. And then they dedicate the afternoon to clean the house as much as they can— neither of them wanting to overwork Jeongguk’s mom.

“Hoseokie.” Yoongi calls when they called it a day with the cleaning and are now sitting comfortably on the living room. Hoseok hums acknowledging, eyes fixed on a random book he took out of the shelve. “Can I take you out? …on a date?”

The cutest confused noise is released from Hoseok’s mouth, head tilted to a side, eyes on Yoongi. “Like, our first date as fiancés.”

Hoseok flashes one of his big, heart shaped, smiles, giggles and nods— “I’d loved to, fiancé.”

It isn’t luxurious, not as much as Hoseok deserves— Yoongi thinks. But Hoseok’s eyes are sparkling, full of happiness and his face seems to glow every time he smiles.

The bar they decided on was right at the beach— a couple feet of white sand giving place to an endless dark blue sea in front of them. They are sharing some fries and seafood, Hoseok gushing about the kids he teaches to: “Eun, that silly girl, every time I tell her to pick a different kid to partner up, she just sulks and picks Chan either way! Every time, Yoon.”

“Mmm, somehow it reminds me of a certain someone.” Yoongi raises his eyebrows while a playful grin makes it to his lips. “But he wasn’t silly, I think he was just crazy in love.”

Hoseok laughs— mouth open, eyes closing, body leaning backwards too much, almost falling from the stool. “Rings a bell?” Yoongi asks.

Although his plan on teasing Hoseok backfires when the guy recovers from his laugh outburst, eyes open and glaring so lovingly into Yoongi’s he loses his breath for a second. “He still is, insanely in love.”

Hoseok’s face gets closer, glare still intense, piercing deep— deepen further until reaching Yoongi’s heart, his soul. The next words are whispered just above his lips, hot breaths mixing together: “And I promise you he will never, ever, stop loving you.”

He leaves a soft peck on Yoongi’s lips that doesn’t develop any further. But is perfect, and fills Yoongi’s chest with a warm explosion of happiness, joy, love— nothing sad.

Yoongi can feel his soul getting coloured, as if Hoseok’s pecking him just now was a drop of watercolour, a drop that expanded and filled the canvas of his soul. And maybe it isn’t just now, maybe it was since forever— since the moment they’ve met, Hoseok’s been colouring Yoongi’s days.

The moment when fourteen years old Hoseok decided to sit beside Yoongi because, “From the door seemed like you need a friend. I’m Hoseok.”.

The first note he received, Hoseok handing it to him underneath the shared school desk, ‘mum’s teached me the art of kookies yesterday… wana come and taste dem after skool?’— of course Yoongi returned the note with corrections and a ‘yeah, sure’, internally screaming with excitement.

Their first sleepover— well, it originally was a “studying-all-night-long”, but ended up with them playing games and babbling personal things. “My turn: what was the first thing you’ve thought about me?” And really, can you blame eighteen years old Yoongi when he, without thinking, answered: “Why is such a pretty human approaching me?” Hoseok cooing and hugging him the whole night was worth the embarrassment, at least.

And Yoongi could think of plenty more: when they split because of college, missing each other so much they talked almost every night; when he realised he liked Hoseok, ignored his calls and found him whole crunched on his door, crying while wating for him; their first date, first kiss, first time, first everything.

Hoseok’s always a drop of colour— bright or dark, it filled his soul until this very day, and will probably continue to do so.

So, he stands up, says: “Let’s walk, come on.”, and offers a hand for Hoseok to take.

They stroll right beside the sea, small waves trying to get them— running away was never so funny. It’s calm, and comfortable— the press of a palm against his own ever so reassuring.

Yoongi tugs Hoseok’s arm, encourages him to stop walking. They face each other, big smiles spotted in the two of them. When they are facing each other again, Yoongi can’t look at him in the eyes, at least for too long— opposite to the way they were looking at each other in the bar.

Hoseok, seeing this, takes both Yoongi’s hands and squeezes reassuringly, bringing them close towards his face, kissing his left pinkie and the ring placed on the finger next to it. “What is it?” Hoseok murmurs.

And even if Yoongi isn’t looking at him yet, he tries to look at him as lovingly as possible— trying to prove telepathy is a thing.

Yoongi lets go of his right hand and nervously scratches the side of his face, mouth fishing for words. “This might sound weird.” Hoseok frowns, “And made out. But I swear is not!” Yoongi hurries out, looking everywhere but Hoseok’s eyes.

He seems to be forcing his voice out: “You remember I was stressed out with work, right before winter holidays.” It doesn’t sound like a question, but Hoseok nods anyway— curiosity climbing through his body. “And you decided to help me.”

“Yeah, what about—” Hoseok’s eyes flash open, face painted with worry. “Was it wrong? You got fired?”

Yoongi shakes his head, dismissing Hoseok’s worries. “It was actually perfect.” Yoongi takes Hoseok by his waist, hugging him. “But that’s not what I want to tell you.”

Yoongi closes his eyes, taking a deep breath while keeping his head held low, arms wrapped tightly around his boyfriend. You should take deep breaths too, Hoseok tells himself, nothing bad is going to happen.

Hoseok reaches out his hand, carefully placing his palm to Yoongi’s cheek— Yoongi leans into the touch immediately. A soft exhale leaves his mouth and then he opens his eyes looking right into Hoseok’s. He smiles, “You know you can tell me everything, honey boy.”

Yoongi smiles, eyes glowing lovingly, and with a low voice he begins to talk: “You sat down a whole day, after work, even when you were stressed because of those mini tornados you teach, and got a quick lesson on music theory and producing… In a day, Hoseokie!” He can’t hold the shy smile or the blush creeping into his face.

Is Yoongi the one that brings his hand up to Hoseok’s cheek now, reassuring. “And that’s not the most amazing part, the best one is you got everything correctly and helped me— really helped me, with that massive stack of papers due to that next week.”

Hoseok interrupts: “But you fell behind, because I needed to ask you some questions while helping you.”

Yoongi smiles while softly shaking his head. “I remember it as if it was yesterday, baby, you asked me four questions— general questions that then helped you to answer the minor doubts by yourself.” Yoongi’s smile keeps growing when Hoseok’s lips furrow, unsure. “And, yeah, I’m not going to lie. I was checking your corrections closely at first.”

Hoseok tries to interrupt and point this little flaw Yoongi just mentioned; “But I stopped after a couple of them. You were doing a better job than myself.” There’s so much love in the way Yoongi is looking at Hoseok, and he wants to reciprocate but it’s unsure he’s making a good job— and so he wants to hold him and kiss him silly to let Yoongi know, but Yoongi seems so serious talking that Hoseok can’t find it inside himself to interrupt.

So, Hoseok decides on lightly squeezing Yoongi’s left hand once again, caressing his thumb against the ring. Yoongi keeps going: “You even stayed up all night and finished pointing the errors so I could sleep, just having to wake up in order to mark them with a grade.” Yoongi giggles, and Hoseok can’t hold it anymore.

A soft forehead kiss was placed in Yoongi’s brow before the words: “That’s when I decided I wanted to spend my life with you.” Hoseok skips a breath, heart starts beating impossibly faster; “But it was around the time you got weird, and—” Yoongi sees Hoseok’s panicked expression.

He isn’t breathing. “Now I know the reason! Please, sunshine, breathe. Everything’s fine.” Yoongi’s smile was a great sign, but Hoseok couldn’t find a way to feel any good.

A whine escapes Hoseok’s lips when Yoongi let’s go of him. And, being as honest as possible, Hoseok was still insecure and frightened. Yoongi could leave him— he was just about to. What if he actually does now?

“You being weird didn’t stop me to get this.”

Wait— what?

Why is Yoongi kneeling right in front of him?

“But I did get a box, my mind isn’t as creative as yours.” And Yoongi is down there, kneeling down on just one knee, smiling with the most beautiful gums Hoseok’s ever seen, and looking at Hoseok with too much love. So many emotions.

Hoseok cries. A sobbing mess, hugging Yoongi by the collar and tugging closer, closer please. “I am so sorry, so, so sorry.” He mumbles, and Yoongi hesitantly wraps his arms around his centre, slowly rubbing his back.

They stay quiet, Hoseok sniffing and sobbing is as noisy as it gets. And after a while— Yoongi now sitting on his heels, Hoseok pulled to his lap and all curled up against his chest— when Hoseok raises his head.

Yoongi can hear his heart breaking a little, the sight in front of him the pure definition of ugly crying. But he still looks beautiful.

“I’m sorry Yoonie.” Hoseok’s mouth literally drawing down in a perfect half circle. Talking in a pout, “I didn’t want to make you sad, baby.” Hoseok sniffs again and looks right into Yoongi’s eyes, “I love you so much, I really don’t know what to do with myself right now— if I should dip into the ocean and freeze to death or just kiss you silly, cause—” Hoseok takes a deep breath.

Yoongi doesn’t interrupt, just holds him tighter— a part of him frightened about the whole freezing to death deal.

“Because I really do. I want to marry you and be together forever. I’m dying for you to call me hubbie.” Yoongi exhales a laugh at the intended pun, brushing his nose against Hoseok’s neck. “But I hurt you. A lot. In just a few months.” Both take deep breaths, “And I knew I was hurting you a great amount, even if I wasn’t sure about the reason. But now—” he chokes on air, “Now that you tell me this, I realise I was straight harming you.”

Soft, gentle hands hold his cheeks, touch so heavenly and tender, barely there. As if Yoongi was made of glass. Hoseok mutters, looking right into Yoongi’s soul, “You really want to be with a person that hurt you this much in such a short time?”

Yoongi presses his forehead against Hoseok’s, breathing calmly and exhaling hot puffs of breath. He lets go of Hoseok’s waist and gets a hold of the pretty— yet simple, ring he picked.

Grabbing Hoseok’s left hand, as soft as Hoseok is holding his face, Yoongi says: “If you’ll have me, I myself will give my soul for you to hurt.” The ring slides on the digit, fitting perfectly; “Because I know, at the end of the day, you yourself will make sure it’s repaired.”

Watery kisses are Yoongi’s new favourites.

They decided to stay in bed until midday, soft and loving kisses shared with no rest. Smiles hard to whip off. After getting a quick meal, they get dressed and call Jeongguk’s mom.

Once the keys are returned and both Yoongi and Hoseok expressed gratitude, they get into the car, Yoongi behind the wheel and Hoseok controlling the stereo, driving playlist on.

“There comes one. I got thirteen already.” Yoongi says, pointing forward with a finger while keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

Hoseok huffs. “It’s not fair Yoonie!” He sulks, crossing his arms tightly on his chest. “I wanted the white cars!”

Yoongi laughs, “You need to pay closer attention, sunshine. Look—” Yoongi points somewhere ahead them, “That’s a red car right there. Now you got five, just nine more and you’ll lead!”

Yoongi doesn’t point out the next few white cars he sees while driving, laughing happily and taking Hoseok’s mockery when he reaches fourteen red cars.

What can you blame him for? He’s just a mere human.

A mere human in love.

They arrive at Yoongi’s house when the sun is about to go down and disappear at the horizon. Holding hands, they walk the few steps until the front door. A short time after ringing it’s Yoongi’s father who lets them in.

“Guys! Nice to see you after such a long time.” The man holds them by their shoulders and smile, pleased. “Come in, mom’s in the kitchen. And your brother should be here in no time.”

Indeed, Yoongi’s brother arrives shortly after, while they both are helping Yoongi’s mother with the food as Yoongi’s father gets the table ready.

Hoseok feels it almost immediately after he hears the door, a small body strongly gripping his legs, hugging him. “Hoseokie oppa! I missed you.” The little girl says, rubbing her face against Hoseok’s pants.

“Yah! Little brat—” Yoongi huffs while crouching down, brows furrowed playfully as his eyes search for the girl’s. “You didn’t miss you uncle Yoonie?”

The girl’s body shakes, her little giggles muffed against Hoseok’s pants. She turns her head to the side and looking at Yoongi she says: “I missed my uncle Hobi more.”

The hand Hoseok was caressing the little girl’s hair with, freezes, eyes open in shock and searching for Yoongi’s— still at the girl’s eye level.

Yoongi smiles and nods, reassuringly. Hoseok’s hand continues with the motions and a soft smile makes its way into his face.

“Uncle Hobi missed you too, Neuri.” And the grip on his legs tightens.

After Haneul accepted to hug his uncle Yoonie too, Yoongi’s brother kindly smacked both in the head because, “Don’t you have working cell phones? Do you need an owl, so I can finally hear how you both are doing?”

Yoongi’s mother ends up kicking them all out of the kitchen because a catastrophe was likely to happen if they continued to scream and throw hands at each other. Therefore, they moved to the table, leaving Yoongi’s father and sister-in-law to help his mother finish diner.

It’s after the food is eaten and the dishes are taken away, the family members all pleased with the taste, praising Yoongi’s mother cooking skills when Yoongi’s hand slides into Hoseok’s thigh, squeezing.

“We kind of have… something to tell you.” Yoongi firmly speaks, gazing at the people around the table before locking with Hoseok’s eyes.

Hoseok is the one smiling and softly nodding in reassurance. His own hand sliding down to grab Yoongi’s on his thigh and return the squeeze.

“We are getting married.”

All of their eyes open, expectant. Yoongi’s sister-in-law talks next, seeming anxious. “Who proposed?” Not even congratulations?

Yoongi cleared his throat, unsure. Kind of confused. “Um— we both did. Actually.” And then lifts his hands, showing his left ring finger and Hoseok’s one that’s intertwine with Yoongi’s right hand.

Yoongi’s father speaks next, “So what do we do now?” He’s looking at the rest of the table but the engaged pair.

Yoongi’s brother, Hwan talks next, “I don’t know, never thought—”

Soojin, Yoongi’s sister-in-law, follows, “I guess you should give us like, half of it because we said it was going to be this year. But about the rest… no idea.”

So then, Yoongi’s mother is turning to them, “But, who proposed first?”

Yoongi squints, trying to understand. But Hoseok beats him to do it, “You placed a bet?!” Hoseok shouts in disbelief.

Yoongi’s eyes open, and with an offended tone he says: “I can’t belie— No, who am I kidding, I do believe you did it.”

“Well, congratulations, you solved the puzzle. Now, we’d like to know who asked first.” Yoongi’s father lays his hands on the table and leans on it, eager to know the answer.

Hoseok laughs, “You know what I think, my pretty fiancé?”

“What do you think, my beautiful sun ball?” Yoongi replies.

(“Oh shit, they are being that gross couple again.”, “Hwan, your words! Haneul is here.”, “Shuit!”, gasp, “No, no baby girl, that’s a very bad word.”).

“I think your family should give us the money. Since they took sides, you know, it’s just fair. A good apology after doubting us.” Yoongi smiles, gums and all, leans forward and peck Hoseok’s lips.

“I like the way your mind works, baby.” Then, Yoongi looks at the four other adults around the table, “We’d like the money, no coins, please.”

And then everybody erupts in apologies, trying to escape the paying part. Then, happy wishes for the soon to be married couple. And shortly after: “Uncle Yoonie! It’s not fair! I want to marry uncle Hobi first!”

When the late night arrives, Hwan, Soojin and Haneul long gone, Yoongi and Hoseok settle down in Yoongi’s childhood room. Hoseok says, “So, who’s gonna take the floor?”

“We are engaged, what are you talking about?” Yoongi laughs, grabbing his clothes and walking towards the bathroom.

Hoseok follows him, eyebrows raised and questioning, “I’m talking about your parents sleeping right beside this room.” He rests his shoulder against the door frame, watching his boyfriend placing everything above the marble counter.

Yoongi smirks, playfully. “Oh, I get it. You want to finish what we started that night when we were 18.” He tugs his shirt up until is out past his head. “… But back then my parents weren’t here, and now they are, right?” Yoongi starts playing with the waistband of his pants, smug expression still right there on his face. “So, you suggest we don’t sleep together to avoid any temptation.”

Hoseok couldn’t be redder. “You are the worst.” And then he turns around, showing a laughing Yoongi his back, “And I was just saying because, unlike you, I respect my elders.”

Yoongi keeps laughing, “Yeah, sure, I can’t remember the last time you called me hyung.” Hoseok then feels a piece of fabric getting thrown against his head. Yoongi’s pants. “But go off I guess.”

And the bathroom door closes with a clicking sound.

Hoseok is red. Maybe angry red, or it could be hot red, or shy red. Anyway, his face is completely red while picking a pyjama from Yoongi’s, grabbing his underwear and toilet bag. It keeps that same colour even when Yoongi finishes showering, entering the room once again.

Yoongi giggles softly when Hoseok walks past him towards the bathroom, and closes the door behind him.

After a refreshing shower, Hoseok’s mind much clearer— he thanks his own mind for unconsciously picking up the pyjama he used to wear every time him and Yoongi would have a sleepover. Which happens to be the same one he wore that one time.

A devilish grin takes over Hoseok’s face when he finishes his bathroom routine and opens the door to see his boyfriend focused on his phone.

Clasping his hands together on his back, feet fidgeting in fake shyness, Hoseok softly says: “Hyung…”

Yoongi exhales a laugh, finishing something on his phone, “Seokie, I was kidding I don’t care if you don’t call me—" Right after placing the phone down, he looks up.

His smile erases, hands lower until they rest on his lap, mouth open midsentence, eyes travelling around Hoseok’s figure— spending an interesting amount of time studying his bare legs. Yoongi finally exhales, “— hyung.” He finishes.

Hoseok laughs, innocently, taking a few steps towards the bed. He stops at the foot of the bed, “Do you like my pyjama, hyung?” He spins to show off the old, almost translucid, shirt and the small, tight-fitting, sleeping short— that weren’t as tight all these years ago.

“You are the devil.” Yoongi scoots closer, crawling on the mattress until Hoseok’s hips are at a reachable distance.

Yoongi then grips his hands on Hoseok’s waist and pulls his boyfriend’s body until they are facing each other. Yoongi on his knees above the bed, and Hoseok standing right in front of him.

They are close, breaths mixing together, noses touching softly. One of Yoongi’s hand comes loose on Hoseok’s waist and caresses his sides, going up and down smoothly.

Hoseok’s body shivers, an electrifying shock going down his spine, when Yoongi’s hand finds the way into Hoseok’s loose shirt. Shifting upwards until Yoongi’s fingers are dangerously close to Hoseok’s nipples.

And he has sensitive skin. So, unconsciously he exhales: “Shit.” Sounding like a whine.

Yoongi laughs, “Yeah, baby, shit indeed.” His other hand gets inside Hoseok’s shirt. He blushes, but somehow a short amount of his lost sanity makes a comeback.

Hoseok pushes Yoongi aside, climbing up the bed and crawling until he’s resting his head against the pillow, back turned to Yoongi. “You know, shoving your pretty ass in those tight shorts, up my crotch all night long is not gonna end up nicely.”

Yoongi’s voice sounds closer, closer— “And, even if I do have an unexplored voyeurism kink,” —, until he’s suddenly right above Hoseok, mouth presses against his ear, whispering. “…, I don’t want my parents knowing the filthy, dirty sounds you make when I fuck you senseless.”

Hoseok, ever so quietly, exhales a whine. Protesting. There’s a warm pressure between his legs, an excited bubbling on his stomach. And he isn’t supposed to feel this way… He was going to tease Yoongi, why is he such a wimp.

Yoongi smacks his ass, “Even if these shorts are tempting me a lot.”

Hoseok turns around, facing his fiancé. “I’ll take them home.” He wraps his arms around Yoongi’s chest, “Now, stop making my cock hard and sleep.”

Yoongi chokes a laugh, and steals a peck from Hoseok’s lips. “Will you dance wearing them?”

He pouts. Eyes big and glowing. Like that emoji, or one of the kids he teaches to asking for a specific game, or even that cat from Shrek.

Hoseok sighs, defeated, “Yeah, okay. That’ll be your wedding gift from me.”

Yoongi smiles, bigger than ever, gums showing and cheeks bulging until turning into soft balls. “We are getting married, Hoseokie.” And his arms tug his body closer, head placed in the crook of his neck. Soft pecks against soft skin.

“Yeah, honey. We are.” Hoseok smiles, smile, lips pressing together, but his looks hold so much love. “We’ve came a long way since 18.”

They hug all night long. The heat exuding from their bodies keeping both their hearts lukewarm with each other’s love.

The next morning, the couple grab a quick breakfast and say goodbye to Yoongi’s parents, promising to call soon with news on the wedding ceremony.

After Yoongi revised Hoseok had packed the shorts, they got into the car and quickly drove to Hoseok’s childhood house. It wasn’t a long way, just a little away from the city.

“I don’t want you to go in there with me, Yoongi.” Hoseok says, eyes fixed ahead, aware of the traffic. “I don’t—” Hoseok coughs, “I don’t want to repeat last time.”

Last time when she almost hits you too.

Hoseok feels a hand gripping his thigh, lightly squeezing. “I’ll drive back to Seoul, then.” Hoseok nods and thanks him, a sad smile attempting to appear. “I love you, forever.”

Hoseok spends an unhealthy amount of time just parked in front of his childhood home. Not his home anymore. Taking deep breaths and side-looking at the house’s front door.

Hand grips his shoulder. “I’ll be waiting here, okay?” Hoseok nods, thanks Yoongi, and takes a final long breath before stepping out of the car.

Walking the few steps until he’s standing in front of the obnoxiously white door take forever, feels like years have passed when he finally rises his hand, index digit extended.

Breathe Hoseok, you can do it. He glances over his shoulder, Yoongi have stepped out of the car too, resting his back against the vehicle’s door with a soft, reassuring smile on his face— I love you. Yoongi mouthers.

Hoseok closes his eyes and finally rings the bell.

Steps are heard from the other side of the door, and his mother’s voice is then heard: “Who’s there?”

With a shaky voice, Hoseok says, “Hoseok, mother.” And then the door is opening.

The woman on the other side is perfectly tidied up, even if she doesn’t gotta work today. She’s wearing a two pieces suit, a white button up, and his hair is placed in a tight bun on the top of her head.

“What do you want?” She crosses her arms, a shaved eyebrow raising questioning.

“Can I come in?” She opens the door further, stepping aside reluctantly and giving one last look outside. Hoseok guesses she’s glaring at Yoongi waiting for him.

“I thought I told you to come back when you make up your mind.” When Hoseok raises his head, she’s still with her arms crossed. A habit she has to feel protected someway.

“I did.”

“Oh yeah?” Hoseok nods, keeping eye contact. “Then why is that fag outside?” Hoseok flinches, “I really thought you’d be smarter than this— what if the neighbours saw you? Do you want your mother to be mocked because her son is around people like him?”

Hoseok is not a person who usually gets mad. Ever. It takes a lot to actually infuriate him. But right now, he’s seeing red.

“Well, mother, news flash— I am exactly like him.” His voice is rough, eyes squinted and fists clenched beside his body.

She dismisses him, “Yeah, sure, you are just confused…” Then, she walks closer, pressing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. But it’s nothing close to reassuring. “Need a little bit of therapy and you’ll be okay.”

Hoseok explodes, “No!” His mother jumps a little, startled. Hoseok never raises his voice. “You are not going to fix me. I am who I am, like you are this evil bitch and won’t ever change. I am gay, and I love Yoongi. And that won’t change.”

The sound comes before he can even feel it. The hand that was tight on his shoulder raised and flopped right back against his cheek. Slap, and his head that was facing her is now turned to a side

“Yes, go on.” Hoseok says, turning back to her. “Hit me again, like you used to do when I was just a curious kid.”

His mother does, she actually hits him again. And Hoseok smiles.

Rubbing his hand on his red cheek, he says: “And here I was, hoping you have changed your mind. But I must have guessed, rocks don’t break.” Hoseok starts walking forward, a new wave of courage that he never experienced before was getting into his body. “I’m getting married, mom, and it’s a shame you won’t see your only son being happy.”

And so, he turns around and starts walking, not sparing an eye to the woman. “How can you be happy when you are— are… Abnormal.” She says, but sounds a little off.

Hoseok doesn’t stop his legs to answer: “The thing is, it is normal. Is just love. And love doesn’t have a gender.” When he reaches the door knob, he exhales. “The day you understand this, you are welcome to our home. Until then, don’t even bother.”

Hoseok can hear the horrified gasp his mother exhales. She doesn’t give up: “He’s going to leave you.”

And there it is. Right where it hurts. Right where Hoseok is hesitant about. His head turns to a side, an old family picture coming to view. His grandparents and his dad posing beside him and his mother. Hoseok smiles.

“Yes, he will.” And then he exits the house, door closing right behind him. His mother left inside.

Back to Seoul, things doesn’t change. Not much at least. They used the last couple days free to just relax and cuddle everywhere. Happy to be back home, in each other’s arms.

They arrange a meeting with his friends to tell the news. Yoongi calls Taehyung, and Hoseok, Namjoon and Jeongguk. Anyway, there’s a tension that can’t be ignored. The moment Taehyung arrives saying, “Sorry, sorry, there was a thing in the studio.”, Jeongguk stiffens, and Namjoon chokes.

And when Taehyung finally reaches the common room, still explaining a thing about cameras and bad lighting, he cuts himself midsentence when the couple in the sofa comes to view. Choking.

Yoongi, who was walking Taehyung in searches Hoseok’s eyes, and gives him a questioning look. Hoseok shrugs, unknowing.

“Taehyung, these are my friends, Namjoon and Jeongguk.” Hoseok says, anyway. “I don’t know if you remember them, we went out all together last year.”

Taehyung shakes his head, and then fervently nods, “Yeah, yeah. Namjoon and Jeongguk, I remember. Yeah.” And then he weirdly walks forward to weirdly shake their hands.

“What the fuck.” Yoongi says. And Taehyung freezes. “Did you sleep with one of them?!” Yoongi shouts, gripping Taehyung’s shoulder to face him. “What the hell, Taehyung, they are together, fuck.”

Hoseok frowns, but hugs Yoongi in order to stop him from doing something he’ll regret. “I— Yoongi— what?”

Yoongi points his finger, “Don’t “Yoongi what?” me, Kim Taehyung. I know that tension in your shoulders, that expression in your face.” Yoongi signals with his index finger while talking, “It’s the same face you had on when you had sex with chemistry dude and realised all his big dick energy was just a mask.”

“Shit.” Taehyung murmurs, lowering his head.

“Yeah, shit indeed.” Yoongi crosses his arms, eyebrows furrowed, “Now sit and explain.” Then he turns to the couple, “And whoever of you who cheated on the other better explain too.”

Hoseok massages his tense shoulders, kissing his nape to calm Yoongi down. Seems to work a little but his arms are still crossed, defensively.

“Nobody cheated.” Namjoon talks. Now is Hoseok frowning too, looking at his friends. “We consensually slept together.”

“Shit Namjoon,” Hoseok says, dragging Yoongi to sit on his lap. “…, why did you do it? I knew you were a horny motherfucker but I thought that was left in college. That when you’ve met Jeongguk you stopped sleeping around.”

Jeongguk intervenes, “No— you are not getting it.” He brushes his hair away from his forehead, frustrated. Namjoon places a hand on his thigh to reassure him.

Yoongi catches on Taehyung’s hand flinching to do the same.

Jeongguk talks again: “We all slept together. As in a threesome. A very much gay threesome. Three dicks, you know? Dick on ass, and another dick on another—”

Hoseok interrupted, “Jeongguk, we know how gay sex work.” Jeongguk nodded and lowered his head. “You had a threesome?” He asks, and the three other men nod their heads.

Yoongi squints, looking at Taehyung, “Not one— more than that. Right?”

The way they shift indicates Yoongi is right, and Hoseok smiles, Yoongi wiggling on his lap. “Shit, baby you are hot when you guess people’s secrets.” Yoongi shushes him with a smile, tugging at the playful hand on his thigh.

Then Hoseok turns to his friends again, “Look, there’s nothing wrong with having a threesome… Three dicks, two dicks and a vagina, three vaginas. Whatever— it’s okay.” Namjoon locks eyes with him, they seem to be almost thankful. “But you are being weird about it, so they might have been something that went wrong. Especially since it seems to have ended.”

They all nod their heads. Taehyung raises his own too. Hoseok continues. “Talk it out— please. Communication is the key in any kind of relationship.” He smiles, softly and concerned, “You are our friends and we are worried— we want you all to be okay.”

Yoongi hugs him tighter, kissing his nape. Namjoon nods, almost thankfully again, and then talks while looking at Yoongi and Hoseok: “What if we postpone this meeting until next weekend? Would it be okay?” The couple nods, assuring is no problem, “Let’s go to our place and talk, shall we?”

That’s how their three friends go, apologizing, still unaware of the news.

Either way, Yoongi and Hoseok are quickly to occupy themselves with each other’s mouth, hands, tongues— everything. They have moved onto their room when Yoongi pushes Hoseok, “Wait, wait—” He takes a breath, trying to stop his panting. “You don’t want a threesome, right?” Hoseok frowns, “Because, I wouldn’t want to end up in Namjoon and Jeongguk’s place.”

“What do you mean?” Hoseok seats, ass still pressing with Yoongi’s hard on.

“Taehyung caught feelings— don’t know on who, but he totally did.”

They go back to their working routines. Normal working routines. And everything is still okay— couldn’t be better. The next weekend they decide to meet their friends on a bar to give them the news— but turns out they weren’t the only ones with announcements.

The thing is, Taehyung did catch feelings, but for the both of them. Therefore, Taehyung alone decided to end up the threesome-whenever-we-want thing— but Namjoon and Jeongguk didn’t know the reason. When they talked the previous weekend, they learned about Taehyung’s feelings and, long story short, Namjoon and Jeongguk felt the same.

So, now they are all together, exploring a three-way relationship with lots of hot sex.

“Yeah, anyway. What did you two want to tell us last time?”

Yoongi blinks, waking up from his shock. He coughs to find a voice and then says: “Well, nothing as spectacular as your polyamorous revelation— which I am (Hoseok over talks: “We are.”) completely happy for by the way.” He reaches his left hand forward, taking some crisps out of the bowl in the middle of the table, exaggeratedly slow for show.

“Holy motherfucking mother of God.” Taehyung says, reaching to grab Yoongi’s hand, “You fucking slick asshole— this is spectacular what the hell.”

And yeah, everything is okay.

Yoongi decides once to pick up Hoseok after work, flowers in hand, having forgotten it was the day Hoseok is supposed to hand the kids out to their parents. Hoseok smiles when he sees Yoongi either way, slightly waving his hand and mouthing wait a minute, before resuming his task.

Yoongi can’t help but smile while watching him, big heart smile plastered on Hoseok’s face while saying goodbye to the kids— the kids who hug him and wish him a good afternoon Teacher Hobi, see you tomorrow. And then they wave goodbye after grabbing their parent’s hand.

When the last kid is handed, Hoseok approaches Yoongi. “Aw, are these for me?” Hoseok smiles, lovingly, getting a hold on the flower bouquet. He smells them and looks up at Yoongi, “Thank you, honey. These are beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you, but—”

“Is this the prince you talk about, Teacher Hobi?” A little girl is tugging Hoseok’s shirt, looking up at them with a soft smile.

Panic flashes on Hoseok’s eyes when he looks up at the girl’s mother, waiting for an insult, a scandalous shouting session on “how can this school allow a homosexual teaching our kids?!” But there’s nothing more than a soft smile plastered on the woman’s face, looking at the little girl.

“C’mon, baby girl, mommy is waiting for us with cookies.”

The girl gasps, “Mommy made cookies?” And after the woman nods, she’s forgetting about the teacher, tugging the woman’s arm to walk, “Let’s go mom I want mommy’s cookies!”

Hoseok smiles and relaxes, thanking the woman with a nod of his head and turning back to Yoongi. “What were you saying?”

Yoongi goes to pick Hoseok up more often. But once Hoseok decided to pick Yoongi up since he said something about extra hours and getting out of work late. So, there he was, coffee on one hand, pastries on the other, knocking on Yoongi’s office door.

He heard an invitation from inside and walked in, “Hey baby, I brought your favourites.” The smile on Hoseok flinches when he realises his fiancé is not alone.

“Baby?” A blonde boy checks Hoseok out, shamelessly, whistles, and then: “You got yourself a hot one, Yoongi. I’m impressed.” Hoseok’s eyes shoot big.

Yoongi slams his hands on his desk, “Mr. Park, first things first: I’m your teacher, you respect me.” (Hoseok mumbles under his breath, “God he’s so hot.”) “And second, you never, absolutely ever, talk that way about somebody. Especially if that person is in the room.”

Hoseok is still standing beside the now closed door, uncomfortably shifting in place. Yoongi realises and signals him to step closer. He then sighs and continues, “Jimin, this certainly isn’t my first time giving you classes. You weren’t like this last year.” Hoseok finally reaches the desk and places the package down the wooden table.

Hoseok takes a bold move and presses a hand on Yoongi’s shoulders, squeezing to release some tension. Yoongi relaxes instantly, and shifts closer to the touch. Jimin is looking at them with focus, studying their actions. “I’m sorry, Sir.” His head lowers while Yoongi’s flashes up.

There’s shock in his eyes when he talks again: “What’s been happening?”

That seems to put Jimin’s brain into action, because the boy starts rambling almost instantly. Exaggerating some words with hand movements: “There’s a man I like, ok? And he is such a man, God you should see him— I mean, you both seem to be good together but I swear, Sir, he is— such a man. Ugh. This might seem stupid but I really want to take him out on a date, and Miji told me that Kira told her that Hyun heard that Seokjin-ssi likes ‘em bad and rebel, just like him.”

Yoongi interrupts, “Seokjin? As in Kim Seokjin?” Jimin nods repeatedly. Yoongi giggles, “Seokjin is nowhere near bad and rebel.”

“What are you talking about, Sir? He is! Have you heard what people say?” Yoongi shakes his head and leans over his desk to place a reassuring hand over Jimin’s.

“That’s why you’ve been having such a bad attitude? And failing your exams on purpose?” Jimin pouts and shyly nods, embarrassed. Yoongi sighs and bites his lip, “When did my music theory degree become a love theory degree…” He mumbles.

Hoseok laughs, a little too loud and has Jimin looking at him, watery eyes. “Don’t laugh at me, please. I swear I am nowhere near as pathetic as this makes me look.”

Yoongi saves his ass, “He isn’t laughing at you, don’t worry. He’s laughing at me.” Jimin frowns, “Do you remember what you told your friend last year? About a date you had with a motorcycle and graffiti lover?”

“How do you kno—”

“The same way Seokjin knows.” Jimin’s mouth closes, “Your friend made sure to spread how much fun Park Jimin had on his date with this bad and rebel boy.” Jimin’s head turns to a side, curious. “And by coincidence two weeks later all these terrible rumours about Seokjin being reckless, dating badasses and this new fashion preference were happening— please tell me if my timeline is mixed, ok?”

Jimin nods, confused, but doesn’t say a thing. “Not to jinx it but I really think that wasn’t a coincidence, and just pure bullshit.” He pauses, turns around, “What do you think, Hoseokie?”

Hoseok is a little taken aback with the sudden mention of his name, but recovers quickly and says: “I mean, yeah it’s kind of suspicious, you told your friend about a date that by chance was with a stereotyped “bad boy”, and then this Seokjin guy appears to be a bad boy too.” Hoseok shrugs and finds a place in Yoongi’s lap when he pulls his body towards him. After finding a comfy position, he continues, “I think, the same way you are interested in Seokjin’s type, he’s interested in your type.”

Yoongi nods, “Yeah. And also—” He waits for Jimin to look at him in the eye, “I’ve had Seokjin as my student one semester, and I can guarantee you he’s the most respectful, hardworking, and harmless person in this faculty.”

Jimin’s face is weirdly twisted, some kind of realisation mixed with shame and happiness at the same time. Hoseok giggles, “Go and talk, really— communication is the key.”

There’s a rush of ‘thank you’s and ‘I will do my best’s before Jimin is rushing out of the office, calling someone on the phone and demanding for Seokjin’s dorm number.

When the door is closed behind him, Hoseok turns his face to Yoongi, still sitting on his lap, “So, when did you get your Cupid’s certification?”

Yoongi laughs, and exhales a dismissive ‘shut up’ before kissing Hoseok’s cupid bow. “Mhm, for real though, I need advice from a Cupid student.”

Yoongi looks at him, a brow raised in question, “What do you need advice on?”

“I need help picking the colour of my underwear so it won’t be seen through my pale suit.” He then presses his forehead against Yoongi’s shoulder, “I really want to wear the cherry set but that damned summer fabric is too light and everybody will see.” Hoseok whispers right beside Yoongi’s ear, “And I don’t want people seeing what’s only for my husband to see.”

Yoongi exhales a shaky breath, “Shit Hoseok, why do you always pull this kind of things out in places we can’t do it.” He holds Hoseok’s thigh, grip a little too strong.

“I always wanted you to fuck me in your office, you know?”

Yoongi is, for the first time, thankful that the University didn’t start renovations— that include cameras in every corner— on the arts building.

The thing is, there’s periods of time when everything is okay, and periods when it isn’t— every couple has fights, but from them they can learn to understand each other.

Yes, it’s easier that they were best friends before, knowing a good portion of each other’s life helps a lot— but there’s no way a person can fully know another one, especially since not even one person can fully know themselves.

For example, Hoseok is a tidy person, and he finds cleaning kind of therapeutic. But this one time when Yoongi was being really messy, he exploded and couldn’t stop shouting him about “Why don’t you ever clean your own mess?”. The thing is, Hoseok learned that day— just as Yoongi did, that he doesn’t like to see things out of place. No matter how therapeutic he finds cleaning.

But even if they shout at each other, sometimes going as far as being pissed with one another for a whole day, it’s never a big deal. They communicate, so it’s okay.

Although, there’s this one time, when they don’t— Yoongi is being weird about something and even if Hoseok asks, he doesn’t say. And he’s been so out of it, barely listening to Hoseok’s rants, barely answering to the ‘I love you’s Hoseok tells him.

And well, Hoseok thinks is payback, for the time when he wanted to propose all these years ago. So, he asks Yoongi, “Are you doing this so I’ll know how you felt?”

And Yoongi at first doesn’t understand, “Felt when?” But when he does, he’s quick to envelope Hoseok in the tightest hug, whispering comforting words on Hoseok’s ear.

Turns out, Yoongi was walking down the street when he saw a family; mother, father and children, walking together while shopping. Laughing, playing and making the little kid jump every count to three.

After that, Yoongi couldn’t stop thinking what would it be like to have a kid— their kid. And he really wanted to tell Hoseok, but Yoongi knew how difficult would be to try for adoption, since they are two men, and didn’t want him sad, or mad.

Hoseok asks “Mad about what?” And when Yoongi answers, “I don’t know, that I’m a man?” Hoseok laughs, genuinely amused, and then proceeds to assure Yoongi that, even if he’s sad there’s little hope for them to actually adopt a kid, he wouldn’t want anybody else over Yoongi— as the man he is.

And it’s good, to share their life together this way. Even if they don’t really have any kind of paper that certificates they are married (because, as Yoongi says: “This country isn’t prepared for a couple as powerful as us.”); there’s a photo frame in their living room— a picture of them dancing together on their wedding day, big smiles while looking at each other in the eye, not even aware of the camera— that says otherwise.

Yoongi learns Hoseok won’t ever want him to leave— not even when he’s pissed mad and won’t talk to him. Hoseok loves to have him close to cuddle at night, not matter how dry his retorts are.

Hoseok didn’t want him to leave either when Yoongi got offered to work a year at an overseas music company. He didn’t want to, but encouraged Yoongi to accept because “Are you fucking nuts, Min Yoongi? This is your dream, you moron, I can wait a year.” Hoseok sobbing got louder saying the last word, “Also, this is a technological era and videocalls exist. Thankfully.”

Yoongi have never touched, hugged, or said more ‘I love you’s to somebody in his whole life. Hoseok deserved them all.

And Hoseok accepts Yoongi will leave him, someday. The same way he could leave Yoongi at any minute. Because that’s life. People come and go, not matter how long they stay in the same place, as Heraclitus said, everything flows. Hoseok’s grandparents died and they left; Hoseok’s father decided to divorce his mother and go to China so he left.

Yoongi will, someday— but hopefully, that day is far enough.

Meanwhile, they’ll make sure to love each other.