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yoongi is used to waking up alone.
his eyes open on their own these days, a few minutes before his 6am alarm, his brain fighting the heavy mist of sleep. for a moment his dreams are fused with reality, his exhausted mind unable to distinguish the past from the present. there is a head on the pillow next to his, mushed hair and mushed bedsheets, a face hidden between tangled limbs. warm, too warm, the gentle ebb and flow of deep, contented breaths.
then he is blinking awake and it is the warmth that seeps away first, water drained from a used bath and he is frigid all over again. there is no head on the pillow next to his. there is no pillow next to his at all, no sheets bunched under golden skin, nothing. there is only a four-poster bed, the sound of the shower as he washes away sleep-induced mourning.
he has gotten used to it, or so he tells himself. so he tells jeongguk every single day when he asks the same question.
hyung- do you miss me?
yes of course.
is it weird, me not being there?
it is, but i’m used to it by now.
he is used to it and he is not used to it. jeongguk clings to him like a scent, like a song written long ago that can never really be forgotten. he plays through his mind, a litany on broken keys and they are so far apart that sometimes yoongi feels the distance choking him. jeongguk is at the shore and yoongi is drowning, six feet under water with nowhere left to go.
he never tells him how he feels, can already see jeongguk rolling his eyes trying to hide his tears, he cries so easily,
you’re so silly yoongi hyung, i’m not that far away. we’ll see each other when you come home for chuseok.
but yoongi does not go home for chuseok. there is a melody that needs to be written, a deadline that needs to be met. and it’s okay, they tell each other, it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay and now it is almost a year and yoongi has not seen his jeongguk for so long he worries he may not recognize him. not his face of course, he sees his face each night in dreams. but the little things. what if he offers to make him tea and puts the milk before the sugar? what if he folds his shirts with the sleeves out instead of in? what if he kisses him and still drowns?
jeongguk will just smile, tight-lipped and resigned, as if he has known, has expected. things wouldn’t really work out would they? childhood sweethearts don’t remain sweethearts across 7,000 miles of ocean.
he imagines it a few hundred times a day, their grand reunion. sometimes he imagines a knock on his door in the dead of night, his flat mates exchanging uneasy glances as they try to guess who stands on the other side. other times he considers booking a flight back home, shedding the philadelphia cold and running back to summer, to jeongguk, throwing open his university lecture hall and calling his name. he imagines endless kisses and endless laughter as they wolf down day old food because they haven’t left their room, unwilling to part for long enough to put on clothes. he imagines sex and sex and sex and sometimes when he closes his eyes he can almost feel jeongguk under him, his hot, sweet breath against his ear.
but when the time has finally come he is uneasy. there is unease in his gut and in his mind and he is so nervous he almost can’t eat dinner. he nearly forgets to tell, his palms oddly sweaty as he mumbles into his take-out box.
my boyfriend is coming for the weekend.
and then
i hope that’s okay.
hoseok seems more excited than surprised and namjoon more surprised than excited. is he really coming all the way from korea? just for you? lucky boy.
lucky lucky lucky
jeongguk will come from the airport himself
i don’t want to bother you, hyung, i don’t want to burden you no no no no-
so yoongi sits and he waits. he stares at the door wondering what it will be like. will he attempt a small hi before jeongguk is on top of him, knocking him over and kissing him senseless? will he wrap around him like a cat, refusing to let go for long enough to even get him a drink of water? will he even fit into the oppressive winter? jeongguk, made of summer and youth and everything beautiful in this world? will it corrode him, create a gulf between them that will stretch and stretch and stretch-
the doorbell rings and yoongi’s heart skips a beat and then another, forgetting the rhythm it is meant to have in its entirety. he stares at the unblemished wood, a thin slab about three inches wide separating him from everything he has been longing for, been dreaming of.
it rings again, he has been sitting too long. yoongi launches out of his seat, reaching for the door knob and pulling with a little too much force, winded.
he is wearing a parka, so thick yoongi can barely see his face, long black waves pulled into a messy bun, star-bright eyes. his suitcase is a little too big for a two day trip, bulging at the sides from how full it is, muffler wound tight around his neck, mittens a matching baby blue.
they stare at one another, hesitant, neither willing to make the first move. there is a draft in the dingy corridor, the cold air against yoongi’s heated skin seeming more real than the vision standing in front of him.
“let me take your bags,” he rasps finally, the words painful climbing out of his parched throat.
“thank you.” soft, warm, waiting.
jeongguk follows him in, shedding different layers like the distance between them and when yoongi shuts the door it is just jeongguk. jeongguk in his favourite navy blue sweater, jeongguk with his red nose and silver earrings tinkling softly, jeongguk with a smile the size of the moon, a blush already painting his cheeks.
“hi.”
“hey.”
the hug is awkward, their limbs not fitting as well as they once did. they are the same pieces with a different puzzle now, and they shift till they can slot into one another in some semblance of comfort. they settle with yoongi’s arms wrapped tight around jeongguk’s waist, jeongguk’s arms bruising under his, hooking into his shoulders, his head rested gently against yoongi’s cheek.
yoongi shuts his eyes, breathing in deeply. he smells as he always does, baby lotion and downy and first loves and last loves and yoongi pulls him closer. maybe if he can hold him close enough they will become one, two souls bleeding into one another till they are inseparable by nothing other than space.
jeongguk says something, but it comes out more like a hum muffled against yoongi’s neck. it vibrates down his skin, rattling at his ribcage, swinging it open and climbing gently in, settling down over his heart. yoongi murmurs back, what he isn’t sure, but jeongguk seems to understand him relaxing more into his grasp. yoongi turns his face, pressing a kiss to jeongguk’s soft soft hair, loosening it from its cloth bonds, watching it curl gently around his face.
“do you want to shower?” he asks softly. “you must be exhausted.”
“i actually stopped to shower at a rest house,” it is a small confession but yoongi raises his eyebrows in question, “ i didn’t want to waste anytime once…..”
once i got here. once i got to you. once we were together again.
they stand, suddenly awkward again, unsure what is too much and what is too little, unsure whether to come together or to take apart.
“i-“
“hyung i missed you so much.” jeongguk steps closer, warm fingers carefully moving mahogany curls away from yoongi’s eyes. “i thought about you every day.”
i think about you every minute, every breath.
his satoori has gotten heavier, the bags under his eyes bigger but he is still gentle, still untouched by the real world. he watches yoongi with large, unblinking eyes, waiting. for something, anything, anything familiar –
“hyung.” there are fingers tangling in his sweater, eyes downcast, cheeks blushed. “can i kiss you?”
yoongi is taken aback though he probably shouldn’t be. it is too much like the very first time, too much like a jeongguk not yet sixteen, legs tangled with yoongi’s struggling through his chemistry homework. too much like unintentional glances, burning cheeks, bodies too close to be excused.
(“i was thinking,” yoongi looks up at the hesitation in jeongguk’s voice. “hyung.”
“yes?”
“will you teach me how to kiss.”
yoongi blinks, the words taking a moment to unscramble in his mind. “have you never kissed before?”
“no.” he bites his lip, smiling shyly, “i mean, yes. yes i have.”
yoongi shifts, his heart stuttering uneasily despite himself. “then?”
jeongguk moves slowly, getting onto his knees and shuffling a little closer. he stops a breath away, still refusing to make eye contact.
“but i want to kiss you.”)
“i-i brushed my teeth when i showered.” yoongi has taken too long to respond and jeongguk is now babbling, his skin flushed and fingers playing nervously through the air. “so, you know, i-if you’re worried that, mm, i-you know what, we can –“
yoongi cups his chin gently, raising it so that jeongguk looks at him properly. their noses bump together and jeongguk lets out something of a pleased huff, his breath tickling yoongi’s skin, making him chuckle softly.
he kisses jeongguk slow and careful, tentative in the way their lips shape against one another. he kisses jeongguk like it is the very first time and in a way it is. they are no longer min yoongi and jeon jeongguk who live down the street from one another. they are no longer min yoongi and jeon jeongguk who have been best friends since they were in elementary. they are min yoongi and jeon jeongguk, two souls that never really lost each other learning to hold one another again, learning to understand the new craters and scars a year apart has given them.
jeongguk tastes like mint chocolate ice-cream and it makes yoongi smile into the kiss, knowing he probably stopped at the airport’s baskin robbins to grab a cup while waiting for his bags. he tastes like home and fatigue, like crumpled bedsheets and too much sugar. he tastes a little like yoongi, even now, even now.
jeongguk sighs against him, deepening the kiss to pull yoongi in further, fingers resting gently against the nape of his neck. it starts to feel familiar again, the soft sounds of contentment jeongguk tends to make, the persistent scrape of blunt nails against anxious skin. he kisses him and he breaks surface, finally breathing easy again.
yoongi walks back when jeongguk lifts his hands to his chest, a light pressure to guide him towards the bed, their lips never leaving one another’s. he stumbles when it hits the back of his legs, jeongguk laughing as he shuffles down uncomfortably into a seated position. jeongguk climbs on over him, knees folded on either side of his legs, weight comfortable, familiar. yoongi wraps around him, burying his head deep into the crevice where his neck joins his shoulder, mouthing softly at the heated skin, feeling hands running lovingly through his hair. they stay like that for long, maybe too long, yoongi simply breathing in the boy he loves more than words can describe.
jeongguk mumbles something against his hair, the words fumbled amidst loose strands and heavy tongues, yoongi nuzzling him closer.
“yoongi hyung?”
yoongi looks up, the younger watching him inquisitively.
“hmm?”
“i said i was scared.” jeongguk mumbles, too soft, hands curling against both his cheeks.
“scared of what baby?” the words come out with difficulty, he feels drunk and mellow, intoxicated with proximity.
“i thought,” jeongguk sniffs, rubbing at his nose, “that maybe things would have changed between us.”
yoongi leans up, lazily catching at jeongguk’s bottom lip, his movements languid in an attempt to hide his restless heart.
“i was scared too.” he says finally, resting his forehead against jeongguk’s jaw. “and maybe they have.”
jeongguk stills, pulling away to look at him properly, a slight nervousness to the way he works his tongue against his cheek. “why do you say that?”
“i just mean,” yoongi sighs, “well we’ve both grown, right? changed. we both knew that would happen when i left for my post-grad.”
jeongguk nods slowly, his grip on yoongi’s shoulder tightening.
“but what hasn’t changed is how i feel about you,” yoongi says softly. “that will never change.”
his face lights up slowly, a slow, warm smile spreading across his face, relief in the way he relaxes into yoongi’s touch. “the way i feel about you hasn’t changed either.”
yoongi snorts, “well you just took a twenty-two hour flight to see me for two days so i’m guessing not.”
jeongguk pushes at him, complaining irritated but yoongi just laughs, freer this time, flopping back on to the bed and taking jeongguk with him. when they meet each other half-way now that is freer too, jeongguk’s mouth opening to let him in, drawing him closer and closer. yoongi drinks him in, not hungry but still starved, savouring each moment like it might be the last, knowing all too well time will snatch jeongguk from him before he even realizes he’s actually here.
“not all changes are bad you know.” jeongguk whispers conspiratorially, giggling softly to himself as he climbs off yoongi, settling down next to him on the bed. yoongi huffs, sitting up to frown at him.
“explain.”
“i for one,” jeongguk’s cheeks are so red they stand out against the blue of his sweater, “have been working out. a lot.”
yoongi tries to smile but ends up swallowing rather painfully, his body suddenly registering the fact that his boyfriend, his boyfriend, is right there next to him.
“yes?” he asks hoarsely.
jeongguk reaches for him, pulling him down over him into a long, slow kiss, soft whimper as yoongi licks carefully into his mouth. he feels his hand being held, guided softly towards jeongguk’s folded leg and placed against his thigh.
yoongi chokes, pulling away like he’s burned.
his eyes must be comically large because jeongguk is laughing, hands covering his embarrassed (and slightly proud smile) as yoongi struggles to form a coherent sentence.
“k-kookie, baby.” yoongi spreads his hand across the denim-clad skin again, hesitant as though unsure it’s real, “what the actual fuck?”
“what?” jeongguk asks innocently, “you need strong thighs for horse-riding.”
“you don’t do horse-riding,” yoongi says slowly, “you don’t ride horses.”
“not horses, no,” jeongguk whispers, his eyes wickedly mischievous as he wraps a leg around yoongi’s waist.
yoongi groans, “how can you be so lame and so hot at the same time?”
“i haven’t just been working out, there, i mean-“
“jeon jeongguk you will give me a fucking heart attack i swear to god.” yoongi stares at him blankly, “what?”
jeongguk ruches his sweater up a fraction, yoongi cursing so loudly jeongguk bursts into laughter all over again. he bends down, kissing jeongguk again, letting his hands explore this body that is so familiar but also not familiar, new it’s in angles and its planes, his face the only place baby fat still sits even at the ripe age of twenty-one.
jeongguk giggles softly, yoongi nuzzling his way down his body, huffing warm breath against his stomach.
“my tummy!”
“this,” yoongi says dryly, “is not a tummy.”
maybe things get a little heated, jeongguk starting to lose himself bit by bit as yoongi delicately takes him apart. he is breathless and heated and yoongi is in love and in love and in love –
“hyung,” he says the word so softly yoongi almost doesn’t hear it.
“yes?” yoongi hums against his skin, “yes my doe-eyed angel?”
“hyung,” he repeats, even softer. this time yoongi looks up, this time he sees the look in jeongguk’s eyes, this time he turns the lights off.
he makes jeonnguk hot chocolate after, the kind with whipped cream and cocoa powder on top. jeongguk sits at the kitchen island in a bathrobe, endless chittering stream of his adventures since they parted. he listens patiently savouring each word and filing it away in the recesses of his mind. they snuggle on his bed watching re-runs of the bachelor, though yoongi really watches jeongguk the entire time. watches the stress on his forehead when he thinks one of his favourite contestants may be losing, the excitement when someone gets a rose. and he realizes he is stupidly, disgustingly in love.
they fall asleep so intertwined yoongi can barely distinguish his flushed skin from jeongguk’s, nuzzled so close he doesn’t remember what the world without jeongguk in it smells like. they fall asleep making promises and jokes, exchanging kisses and secrets in the dark. they fall asleep, two souls who have found each other even in the depths of the ceaseless ocean.
most of the rest of jeongguk’s trip goes the same. they leave the room occasionally for long night walks to the grocery store or boba tea breaks in the afternoon.
(“i need to rehydrate,” yoongi says, batting away the stupid pout on jeongguk’s face. “how much stamina do you have?”)
they forget themselves curled around one another, fingers interlocking with fingers, hair mushed together on the same pillow. they forget themselves woven into one another, becoming something new entirely.
when yoongi leaves jeongguk at the airport it is not with sadness but something slightly, inexplicably different. love, he’ll call it for now. but it’s more than that.
yoongi is used to waking up alone but he doesn’t wake up lonely. he wakes up held close in warm arms, arms that may not physically be there but that wrap around him even from 7000 miles and 14 hours’ time difference away. he wakes up alone held tenderly in the thoughts of another, ghost kisses to his temples and blunt nails against his back. he wakes up alone but he doesn’t wake up lonely because somewhere as he wakes up a jeon jeongguk is getting into bed ready to sleep and dream dreams of him. dreams of soft kisses and warm hands and flushed skin and love love love.