Work Text:
Seokjin called him at exactly 5 in the morning. “Couldn’t sleep,” he said, the minute Yoongi picked up. His voice sounded tired.
“Oh?” Yoongi turned on his side. He rubbed at the sleepiness in his eyes. The bed felt big and empty without Seokjin: there was too much space to move and absolutely no warmth to back himself up against. “How was the wedding?”
“It was,” Seokjin paused. There was the warm lilt to his voice that Yoongi missed so much. That made him want to reach through the phone and take his hand in his. That made him want to climb into his arms and not let go. Not now. Not soon. (Which was – ridiculous, really. He had left two days ago, and it wasn’t like Yoongi was a fifteen year old kid who couldn’t stay away. He just – missed him, was all.) “It was good,” said Seokjin. “The food was phenomenal. Youngjae was so nervous he almost threw up.”
Yoongi smiled. “Understandable. Tell him congratulations from me.”
“I did,” said Seokjin immediately. “Of couse, I did. He said thanks. And that he liked you better.”
Yoongi laughed, bringing the phone closer to his mouth. He was so sleepy.
“Yoongichi,” cooed Seokjin, voice softer. Fonder. “Yoongichi. How have you been?”
“Alright. The kids missed you.” Yoongi yawned. And then, he said, “I missed you,” like he had been waiting to say it (he had).
“I missed you too,” Seokjin said, voice ever fonder, somehow. It made warmth spread through his chest. Absent-mindedly, he wondered if Seokjin would ever stop making him feel this way. He hoped not. “Youngjae said sorry, that he wanted to invite you too but –”
“Yeah?” Yoongi thought back to Youngjae, Seokjin’s friend since they had been kids, the only one outside of the band that knew. The one who had been so kind and wonderful to him as if he was family too, and not just his best friend’s boyfriend (Yoongi wondered if referring to himself as Seokjin’s boyfriend would ever stop giving him a thrill either. He didn’t think it will. He hoped it won’t). “I get it. It would be weird if he invited his friend’s bandmate over.”
“That’s not what you are to me.”
“That’s not what you are to me either. But that’s what we are to the world.” He could feel that Seokjin was frowning. Sometimes he wondered when they got so attuned with each other’s emotions.
“My aunt,” said Seokjin, carefully. “She kept introducing me to new people. All girls. There was a painter, and a CEO – even a model. She said I was nearing thirty, that it’s time I settle down now and think of my future and kids. She said there is someone out there who would – who would love me as I am. I kept thinking of you, you know?”
“Yeah?” Yoongi said. His heart jumped. “Oh, Hyung.”
“They had fairylights. At the wedding. Like you — like you wanted for ours.”
Yoongi suddenly felt like he could cry. “When will you come back?” he asked, even though he knew. He had memorised the timing and the train route the minute Seokjin got the invitation.
“Tomorrow,” said Seokjin, as if he couldn’t wait either. Yoongi wanted to – he wanted – he wanted so much.
“I never want you to be so far away from me for so long.” Yoongi said, a confession that he mumbled it into Seokjin’s pillow. It smelled of him, faintly, and like the fabric softener they used. It wasn’t really like them to be so vulnerable, but it was nearing 6 now and Yoongi had gotten so used to his presence. Him always being there within reach.
“Never,” Seokjin promised. “You are stuck with me forever.”
“Forever,” Yoongi repeated. He liked the sound of that.