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Hoseok sings as he puts flowers in Yoongi’s thin strewn braids. His golden hair has carefully been combed, falling around his shoulders like silky fabric, crimson petals contrasting with his golden reflections.
“You look handsome, hyung.”
Yoongi gives him a gentle smile.
“I better be. I’m not going to the ceremony looking like I just woke up from a year-long nap.”
Hoseok laughs, eyes creasing.
“Don’t you talk about the ceremony as if you cared about it. You respect it, but it is not what you’re looking forward to.”
His friend grins, blushing.
“Depends if he’s bringing gifts.”
His best friend giggles, taking a step back to admire his work.
“He always brings many, has been for the past twenty-two years.” He tucks his head to the side, grinning. “I think you’ve never looked more radiant.”
Yoongi huffs.
“Smooth talker.”
Hoseok shakes his head.
“Look into the mirror.”
And Yoongi complies, admiring himself.
His hair looks like honeyed sun rays shining on a garden, his cotton clothes embroidered with complex patterns in golden thread, and Hoseok’s addition of khol under his eyes makes him look, well, good.
“You’ve outdone yourself.”
Hoseok closes the distance between them, kissing his cheek.
“Not everyone has swooned over an elven being around here. If we look good, you need to look even better.”
Yoongi swats him away, falsely annoyed.
“Don’t say this as if I was any different from you. Seokjin-hyung is smart, but he was a fool to propose to me. We can only scarcely see each other until we’re married, he would’ve been better off with another elf.”
“Would that have made you happy?” Hoseok rhetorically asks, making Yoongi huff sadly.
“Of course not, I’ve been admiring him since I was old enough to be fluent in the ancient language.”
“And did he not cross the ritual line to gift you an oak ring when you were twenty?”
Yoongi groans, smiling despite himself.
“He did. It’s just that having to wait until you’re twenty-eight to marry is idiotic.”
“The elven council needed time to build a permanent portal for you both.”
“I could just shrivel and die at this rate.”
Hoseok explodes in laughter.
“You’re so dramatic.”
He winks at him.
“Just how you like it.”
The music coming from the village’s square seeps into the house, has been for a couple hours, signalling to the inhabitants the celebrations have officially started.
Every year, when they’re close to the perihelion, a bridge opens for four days between the two worlds, giving them the occasion to celebrate their diplomatic relationship.
The portal between the human and elven realms opened during the night, officials, humans and elves alike, setting up the banquet while the others were sleeping. Now, minutes away from the festivities starting, Yoongi starts feeling nervous. What if Seokjin’s changed his mind during the past year? He knows the extent of his feelings, the trust between them, the last reunion they’ll have before the coming year, before being able to see each other whenever they want; he knows Seokjin loves him, but, every year, the fear sits in his mind, heavy, its taste metallic in his mouth.
The ceremony lasts all day, they won’t be able to properly talk to each other until they’ve lit up the torches and the dances are over. The first day is the worst of the year, being so close to him without being able to actually be with him.
Hoseok wraps his dainty fingers around Yoongi’s wrist, grounding him.
“It’s just a few hours.” He tells him, reading his mind after two decades of friendship.
Hoseok looks radiant, princely, his attire dyed into a sage hue that highlights the beauty of his complexion.
Yoongi sits up, squaring his shoulders. He knows everyone is already out.
“Let’s go.”
The village is decorated with colorful fabrics dancing in the air, paper lanterns placed everywhere, ready to be lit as soon as the day recedes, stars coming out to softly glow over them. Yoongi and Hoseok join the villagers and sit at their assigned seats, watching the elves walking through the portal one by one and sit down as well. The chiefs are sitting at the center of the banquet, quietly discussing as everyone finds their places, but Yoongi doesn’t really care about them, or the whole ceremony if he’s to be asked, he’s fixedly staring at the portal, waiting for Seokjin.
Jungkook, his brother, enters their realm, grinning at the village, catching Yoongi’s gaze and winking at him, before easily finding his seat next to his mother.
After what feels like a century, he steps into the human world, and he’s even handsomer than in Yoongi’s mind, his hair carefully braided, his skin pearly and perfect, the shape of his lips mesmerizing. He’s so graceful it feels like he’s floating. He’s searching the crowd, and Yoongi knows it’s not proper etiquette to wave at him, to run into his arms and feel his embrace, the tenderness of his kisses, so he waits, still, his heart hammering in his chest.
When Seokjin’s eyes finally meet his, Yoongi sees his face warming up, a wide smile softening his stately demeanor, fingers reaching towards him for an instant, and then, he regains composure, simply nodding at him, Yoongi elegantly nodding back even though he just wants to be next to him, talking with him, touch him, anything other than these stiff decorum rituals.
These hours always are the longest Yoongi has to live through. Each representative opens the banquet with infinitely long speeches of honor and gratitude, filled with diplomatic platitudes they give every year, Yoongi having to close his eyes so as to not roll them, Hoseok patting his leg under the table.
Then, the feast starts: recipes from both realms shared and savored, elves and humans asking for news, making conversation with a warm politeness. There are courses after courses, it lasts for eons. Yoongi chews with an impatience he finds hard to conceal. He stares at Seokjin who stares back as intensely, his knuckles white around his cutlery. He wonders if the officials put them so far apart as a test of their resolve. If anything, he thinks his resolve is steely, he daydreams of crawling over his table to join his lover who looks as eager as he feels.
When their meal finally ends, their torture doesn’t. Ceremonial dances must be performed, as they have been for centuries, but Yoongi wants to tell them they haven’t had an interspecies couple in centuries either. They should be more indulgent than this. But, alas, he’s just another villager with no power over old customs.
The paper lanterns have been lit, warming everyone’s face in soft hues ; lights shining like pocket stars all around them. It’s all very romantic but Yoongi would prefer kissing his lover more than dancing with the entire village and elven delegation.
It’s a complex dance, lasting for a long time enough for Yoongi’s feet to hurt. They dance with each other, elves and humans mingling in a carefully orchestrated way, changing partners every couple minutes. Yoongi distractedly performs the steps with his partners, scanning the crowd and gazing at Seokjin who gazes back as intensely, turning on themselves, changing partners and losing each other for a couple seconds before catching their eyes again.
After what feels like a century heavy with dust and tortuous events, Seokjin and Yoongi finally meet, hands barely touching, bodies grazing, and this is maybe even harder than standing meters apart, unable to reach out. They’re so close and yet, they can’t do a thing save for performing the choreography they’re expected to.
“I’ve missed you so much.” Seokjin mouths, words drowned under the music, and Yoongi shakily breathes in.
“Me too. Tremendously.”
Seokjin frowns, not catching the last word, and Yoongi wants to scream in frustration. Curse diplomacy, traditions, this stupid music.
They twirl around each other, and before they can revel in this barely-there contact, they’re dancing with someone else, Yoongi’s heart aching, begging to free itself out of his ribcage, trapped like a bird.
He braces himself. He only needs to muster more patience for an hour or so.
Hoseok dances with him, tickling his palm, making Yoongi grin despite his restlessness.
When the whole ceremony is finally over, they give each other tokens of respect and appreciation. This year, Yoongi has crafted a lute he gifts to Seokjin’s mother who warmly accepts it. She likes him, always has.
According to Seokjin, she finds him smart, witty, and far less uptight than his representatives. He likes her as well.
Jungkook takes Yoongi’s hands in his, leaning close, as if he were following traditions and paying his respects, but Yoongi’s seen him grow up, and knows how cheeky he is. And he’s right. Jungkook whispers into his ear :
“He won’t stop talking about you. Maybe he’ll be less insufferable when you’re married.”
And he leans away, politely bowing, Yoongi mimicking his movement and trying not to smile from ear to ear.
After one last speech, the town representative waves in the air and the music resumes, signaling the end of the ceremony, elves and humans mindlessly mingling. And, like every year, as much as he craves running to Seokjin and kissing him, he feels shy, knows people are glancing at him, aware of their waiting, their pining.
Seokjin starts slowly walking towards him, gently smiling, and Yoongi meets him in the middle, seeing the nervousness tensing the corners of his grin. The last few meters separating them feel like an ocean, vast, almost infinite.
When they finally reach each other, they do not touch, hesitant.
Seokjin’s grin is so wide it must hurt, and Yoongi is almost drawing blood from how hard he’s biting his bottom lip, not wanting the entire village and delegation to see how he’s terribly missed him. Instead, he extends his hands, palms up to the sky, and Seokjin delicately traces the lines on them, the pads of his fingers so soft against him.
He closes his eyes.
363 days, he’s waited 363 so very long days. When he opens them again, Seokjin’s head is tucked to the side, tenderly smiling at him. He’s deliriously handsome, his gentle gaze overwhelming him, plump lips tantalizing and so very inviting, his complex braids encasing his soft complexion, and Yoongi can’t help it anymore. He closes the distance between them, burying his face in his chest, arms pressing him close, as close as he physically can. Seokjin smells good, he smells like lavender and spring woods, warm and delicate.
“Did you get shorter?” Seokjin whispers in his ear and Yoongi huffs.
“Almost a year and the first thing you do is try and get yourself murdered?”
Seokjin laughs, kissing his temple.
“I’ve missed you.” He says instead.
“I know.” Yoongi replies, looking into his eyes. “Who wouldn’t?”
His lover loudly laughs, mirth in his eyes.
“Cheeky human.” His fingers graze at his cheek, fondly. “Shall we find a secluded place so I can kiss your insolent lips?”
“I know just the one to kiss your impertinent ones.” Yoongi tells him, delicately taking his hand into his, leading him away from the crowd.
“Ah. This brings back memories.” Seokjin sighs, jumping from mossy rock to another, avoiding tree roots, and his lover laughs.
“You say this every damn year.”
“I’m already growing into a rambling old elf.”
“You’re a thousand years too early for this.”
Seokjin gleefully laughs, fondly gazing at Yoongi’s back.
Yoongi’s not far ahead, happily strolling to their usual spot.
Seokjin and him met when Yoongi barely knew how to walk, the two of them finding each other as their parents mingled during a perihelion ceremony. Once they’d found each other, every year, they would find their way back to each other and play, have fun, share their lives until they’d filled the year long gap between their reunions. Once they were old enough to be left alone, they found this secret spot where the forest hides a lake and they would imagine stories together, Seokjin assembling fake weapons and cabins with the abilities he’d been learning, Yoongi using his literary skills to invent entire new worlds with his friend.
When they reached adolescence, they would sit on the lake’s shore. Seokjin would lure fish and Yoongi would delicately catch them, the two of them exchanging elated looks, Yoongi’s chest blooming with something unknown, something warm and overwhelming. Of course, he had a full year to think about it, but the more he did, the more he ached, and when they were reunited, the feelings came back, but his confusion didn’t damper.
Seokjin and him grew physically closer, hands on their thighs, a hair strand put back behind one’s ear, a head gently laid on one’s shoulder during a campfire, faces close as they whispered secrets about their own people ; but emotionally, a gap had grown between them.
Before, they would’ve told each other all about the waiting, the excitement to see each other again, their happiness to be reunited once again ; now, they secretly smiled to themselves while telling the other about their respective year apart, silence stretching as they held hands before saying goodbye, undecipherable gazes as their parted, these secrets they carried open on their faces but none of them could decipher.
It was Hoseok who enlightened Yoongi after one of these painful goodbyes, where feelings sat heavy inside him, chest breaking apart from the idea of having to wait 363 days to see his friend again.
He had leaned towards him that night, when they were seventeen, and he’d said.
“You love him.”
Yoongi had scoffed, amused.
“Of course I do.”
But Hoseok had shaken his head.
“When you think about him, does your heart beat the same than when you think about me?”
Yoongi had frowned, silent for a while.
Hoseok was his home, his anchor, his confident, he felt comfortable with him, like he did with his sister. With Seokjin, he felt like a thin veneer separated them, making him appear princely, and, as much as they bickered, he felt entranced by his looks, his wit, his gentleness and care, everything that made him him. So Yoongi had told Hoseok this, and concluded his explanation with how this was a normal reaction when it came to elves.
It had made his best friend laugh.
“Is that how you feel about other elves?”
Yoongi had shrugged.
“I’m not as close to them as I am to Seokjin.”
Hoseok, smirking, had leaned closer, amused.
“What is it that you think about when you’re with him?”
He’d paused, thinking.
“How much I’ve missed him, how amazing he is, interesting and handsome.”
“Yeah?” Hoseok had encouraged him, smiling privately.
“How I long for him to always be with me, close, maybe even closer, you know, we’re apart most of the time.”
“Closer how?” Hoseok was looking very satisfied, but Yoongi had just frowned.
“I don’t know, I feel the ache to touch, to feel that he’s real and with me.” He’d paused again. “Only with me.”
His best friend had smirked, a gentle tug of his lips.
“Oh.” He’d frowned, looking down. “I don’t think that about you.”
“I’m wounded.” Hoseok had been grinning, a hand close to his heart. “Do you want to kiss him?”
And Yoongi had sputtered, unable to say anything more.
The only good thing with having to wait to see him for a year was that it gave him time to process his feelings.
He’d walked a lot, channeled all of his doubts and questions into writing music sheets for the town’s orchestra, spent lots of sleepless nights staring at the stars above him. And when he’d finally seen Seokjin again, all of his fears had died out, silenced by the affection he felt for his friend, the strong embrace of his arms around his frame.
They reach the lake and sit with the water lapping at their naked feet. Eight years later and this place remains unchanged.
“Remember how this started between us?” Yoongi asks, quiet, their legs touching.
Seokjin laughs.
“You’re lucky I have all the time in the world before kissing you otherwise I would’ve thrown a tantrum.”
Yoongi’s face lights up, intertwining their fingers together.
“You asked me what the extent of my feelings were, all business-like.” Seokjin huffs. “As if I hadn’t spent years trying to ask you if I could be a part of your life, in that hazy conception of the future adolescents have.”
“It was straightforward.” Yoongi grins, letting his head fall against Seokjin’s shoulder, their sides pressed from feet to shoulders.
“In my head, I brought you birds from my realm and made them fly around you as I kissed you for the first time.”
Yoongi earnestly laughs, as Seokjin manifests fireflies, gently throwing light around them.
“That’s terrible, I hope you’re keeping this for our wedding.”
“I’m already training them.”
“Come here, you dramatic elf.” He gently says, cupping his cheek, and Seokjin turns his face towards him, fingers grazing at his nape. “I’ve missed you.”
“Missed you more.” His lover replies, softly kissing him. Kissing him has always felt like morning dew on an early summer day, sweet and fresh, full of life and tenderness. Yoongi loves kissing him, feeling their lips graze, tongues hesitantly finding each other, their kisses hindered by their grins, their desire to tell the other so much, to cover their entire bodies with gentle kisses, filled with longing and pining and love.
Yoongi loses himself in their embrace, feeling the longing Seokjin carries in the care put in his kisses, in his fingers grazing up and down his side, pressing him closer, urging them to press their bodies flush and erase this wait, this exile from each other, by burning it with the intensity of their affection.
They kiss for what feels like seconds, but must have been hours, the town’s orchestra stopping in the distance, leaving the two of them truly alone, fireflies throwing lights on their darkened faces, the moon casting a gentle glow on them.
“You smell good.” Yoongi nuzzles his neck, eyes closed, listening to the hum of Seokjin’s breathing, feeling his heartbeat under his fingers. “Hasn’t changed.”
Seokjin grins, kissing the top of his head.
“And you smell like vegetation and spring flowers.” They cuddle closer. “Missed this, how soothing it is to be with you.”
Yoongi eyes him gently, privately smiling.
“367 days and you’ll have my company whenever you want.”
Seokjin huffs, hugging him tight.
“You’re going to wake me up in the middle of the night to tell me some facts about horns or some other instrument and I’ll have to stay alert to nod and groan.”
Yoongi raises an eyebrow.
“I think you’re forgetting that time we were supposed to be sleeping and you woke me up to make me taste some of the next day’s food because you’d snuck in for a snack.”
His lover tries staying serious, manages in doing so for a handful seconds before gleefully laughing, Yoongi following him.
“We make a good match.”
They lay down, stargazing.
“Can you believe it’s been almost half a millennium since there was an interspecies wedding?” Yoongi asks, resting his head on Seokjin’s chest.
“I tend to believe they’re making us wait for such a long time just to reach the 500th year mark just so it’s prettier written down in our records.” He cheekily replies, Yoongi closing his eyes, amused and happy.
“The wedding to end all other weddings.” He softly says, and Seokjin laughs.
“It isn’t a competition.” He tells him and Yoongi smiles to himself.
“Isn’t it?”
“That’s what we’ll tell others, but we both know we’re going to have the best wedding in both our realms’ history and everyone before and after us can eat dust.”
“You scared me for a second.”
“Of course we’ll have doves, and dragons flying in the sky, I’ve really been training them for years.”
“The wedding’s score is imprinted in the orchestra’s blood at this point.”
“Jungkook’s designed our clothes.”
“And Hoseok has prepared a beautiful choreography.”
“Historians will depict our ceremony as the most beautiful humankind and elven beings have ever seen and will ever see.”
“Poor mortal eyes.” Yoongi deplores.
“They will have been blessed with true beauty.” He retorts.
“Pure love.”
“I wouldn’t go as far as to call it pure.” Seokjin laughs, fingers intertwining their fingers together.
“No one has to know about what happened in the barn.”
“Oh this is pure. Love under all of its forms is, but all this scheming and planning to ruin everyone else’s wedding isn’t what I’d call pure.”
They both laugh.
“Genuine love. Strong, beautiful, and somewhat chaotic.”
Seokjin hums.
“Better.”
“Darling.” Seokjin softly says as they come down from their laughter, bringing Yoongi’s hand close to him. “I made you a little something while we were apart.”
Yoongi grins to himself.
“Missed me that much?”
It makes his lover bark out a laugh.
“Please enlighten me as to why you’re carrying a satchel with you.” And, faced with Yoongi’s silence, he laughs. “That’s what I thought.” He concludes, dropping something into Yoongi’s palm.
When he brings it to his face, he discovers a silver pendant, roughly smoothed out, a sleeping cat engraved into it.
“That’s lovely. You made it yourself didn’t you?”
Seokjin huffs.
“That clumsy?” He asks, and Yoongi feels so fond, bursting with love.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
It’s late, so Yoongi leans forward, gently kissing him, and brings him back up with him.
“Let’s go home.” He says, and Seokjin huffs.
“No gift for me?” He asks, and Yoongi grins.
“You don’t give gifts to get some in return.” Yoongi replies, following the fireflies leading the way back to the village, his lover pouting behind him.
When Seokjin reaches him, Yoongi retrieves something from his satchel, dropping it in Seokjin’s hand.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t have any gift for you?” He raises an eyebrow at him, Seokjin sheepishly smiling.
“Seemed weird to me.”
He takes his time to unravel it, unveiling a flower entrapped in coloured glass.
Yoongi opens his satchel, showing Seokjin the other eleven gifts.
“I took a different flower each month and slowly made it dry to entrap my love for you.”
Seokjin’s face contorts, moved and silent for a while.
“That must’ve taken you so much time.”
Yoongi shrugs.
“It tricked time, made missing you a little less intense, the time before we saw each other less long.”
Seokjin grabs his hand, brings them flush and tenderly kisses him.
“367 days and you’ll be allowed to be sick of seeing me every day like humans and elves do.”
“Do you think we’ll grow tired of one another?”
Seokjin hums, reaching Yoongi’s house, murmuring his reply as he holds out the door for him.
“I think you’ll want to kill me after my upteenth joke, but you’ll love having to bear with my genius.”
Yoongi silently laughs, careful as not to wake Hoseok up, Jungkook most likely sleeping in his bed, and leads the way to his room.
“You’re right. I can’t wait to threaten you with murder three years for now.”
“I think we can make death threats very seductive.” Seokjin tells him as Yoongi closes the door behind them, his room safe and comfortable.
“Do we want to?” Yoongi asks, smirking.
“I’d hate to have to pay for my crimes.”
And Yoongi can’t help it, he snorts, hiding his grinning mouth behind his hand.
“I love you.” He tells him once he’s stopped laughing, staring at Seokjin’s proud face, reveling in the feeling of finally having his hands gently cup his face, his lips kissing his, his gaze boring into his.
“I love you too.” Seokjin is so gentle, careful in the way he holds him, and his affection is obvious, worn on his sleeve, open and magnificent. Yoongi feels loved and cherished, feels like being home again after being astray for a complete year.
And then Seokjin turns around, inspecting his shelves, and like every year, Yoongi blushes.
There, exposed to his lover, is every gift he’s ever received from him, tokens of affection Yoongi can doze off glancing at, wake up and think about how someone loves him as much as he does in a different realm.
Seokjin traces the lines of the first gift he’s ever brought him back. Yoongi was four, and Seokjin had brought him all the prettiest pebbles he’d found during the year and put them in a box. There, sitting with the rest of the testimony of their affection, sits an eternal rose, an elven tale about soulmates Seokjin innocently offered when they were 12. The one Yoongi uses the most is the one he got when he was 17, a magical music box that plays whatever Seokjin’s listened to last, tricking Yoongi’s mind into thinking they weren’t that far apart.
Yoongi knows - Seokjin told him - that his gifts are scattered around his room so that whenever he looks anywhere, he’s reminded of him. He often talks about that play Yoongi gifted him when they were 19, about the plaid he made him one terrible winter when they were 15, the pile of letters written weekly and tightly woven together with a ribbon he shyly gave him when he was 13, his collection of feathers from when he was 5.
They love each other deeply, and as much as they joke about it, they know their affection is strong, that they won’t grow tired of each other. Of course it won’t always be easy, but life isn’t either and it’s okay to struggle as long as at the end of the day, they’re still willing to go on together.
Seokjin turns around, moved, chin quivering, before tightly hugging him.
“I can’t wait.” He says, whisper wet and croaked out. “Every day without you feels like a century.”
Yoongi embraces him, gently patting his back, kissing his neck.
“We’re almost there. A year from now, we will have a portal between our houses and the ability to move in between realms.”
Seokjin sniffles, and Yoongi’s own throat is constricted. His lover unties Yoongi’s shirt and he mimics him, taking it off. On his chest, memories of their childhood subside : Seokjin still sports the scars from the mosquito bites he scratched until they stayed on his skin when they were kids, the pale ones like negative freckles on his shoulders and chest.
Yoongi is careful, slowly undressing him, meeting Seokjin in the middle as they slowly get rid of their ceremonial clothes.
Once they’re naked, they sit and Seokjin takes their makeup off, Yoongi’s eyes closed, relaxing into the other’s touch. He doesn’t open his eyes, feels their skin grazing, the contact electrifying. Seokjin’s fingers on his face are featherlike, their legs touching and warming Yoongi’s entire body.
They never have sex on the first night, not from following traditions - if they were to follow them they would be as inexperienced as they were before puberty, and, if anything, they have done things thank you for worrying about it in detail Hoseok - but from the sheer exhaustion of a full ceremonial day. They used to try and do things the first years, laughing when they realized their bodies ached and longed for rest.
Yoongi undoes Seokjin’s complex braids, his hair falling around his body like dark silk, carefully combing them out with his fingers. He kisses the thin skin of his wrists, goes up his arms, then his chest, his neck, his lips.
The first night is always dedicated to mapping each other’s skin again, kissing their body, revering in their presence, appreciating the other’s existence. The other nights, well, that’s another story, but tonight, they slide under the covers, kissing everywhere they can reach, hands caressing, grins hindering their pecks, sleep making their exploration slow and sluggish.
Yoongi rolls on his side and Seokjin drapes his body over his, his hand resting over his navel, flush against one another, kissing his nape, laughing because Yoongi’s hair tickles his face. Over the years, they’ve grown used to their hair getting in the way, trying to put them above their pillows, inevitably laughing when they get some in their mouths as they move around the bed throughout the night.
It feels nice, good to be reunited, to be feeling his skin against his, to be able to tell him whatever he’s thinking about, and to have him only for himself for a few hours. If anything, it feels right.
If he decides they’ll be late for tomorrow’s lunch and be with his lover an hour longer, then he has every right to be, he thinks as he falls asleep to Seokjin’s soft breathing.
He wakes up to the song of birds, and their chirps tell him it’s far earlier than he’d like. And then, he realizes what’s happening. Jungkook opens the curtains, singing, as Hoseok brings them breakfast in bed. Seokjin hazily blinks while Yoongi huffs, between annoyance and fondness, grabbing clothes for them to put on haphazardly, as his lover’s brother and his best friend climb on his bed, stealing precious hours of sleep.
“We wanted some time, just the four of us, before the committee asks us to perform another ceremony and keeps us from chatting until tonight.” Jungkook tells them, and Yoongi has to concede he’s missed the kid.
“As much as I consider sleep sacred, I’ve missed you.”
Jungkook widely smiles, hugging Yoongi tight, the older man blinking, amused.
Hoseok hands everyone their drink, some homemade apple juice, and their bowls.
“This is the last year where you’ll have to wait again.” Hoseok starts.
“And then you can tell each other how great you are instead of us.” Jungkook goes on.
“But please do continue in doing so, I love it.” Hoseok completes.
“So.” Jungkook raises his glass. “To your last year of being fiances.”
“And to us being your best men!” Hoseok concludes.
Yoongi and Seokjin laugh, Yoongi’s head on his lover’s shoulder. He’s okay with having waited a decade for them to be able to live with each other if it means not having to say goodbye to any of their loved ones.
“To our love.” Yoongi says, and he thinks about friendly, brotherly, and romantic loves, chest bristling with feelings and hopes, impatient for the next year to come.