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Yoongi doesn’t like posting pictures of himself all that much. But this one turned out quite well, if he does say so himself. Posing dramatically by the piano in one of his most stylish all-black fits with his hair slicked back, showing off his undercut. He looks like the stereotypical brooding male lead in a Kdrama, AKA pretty fucking hot. That’s what a couple million of their fans have to say about his new look, at least.
And yet, here he is, staring lifelessly at his screen, frowning as he refreshes his feed every few seconds. Over and over and over. The number of likes on his post increases dramatically each time. But he doesn’t see the one name he’s so desperately waiting for.
Where’s Hoseok? Why is he offline? Did he get tired of Instagram already? Yeah, maybe that’s it. He’s always chronically online, after all, liking all their posts seconds after they upload them, bombing them with the silliest emojis and the most aegyo comments.
Fuck, Yoongi misses him.
Which is ironic, because Yoongi had called him out on his real-time interactions, imagining how flustered he must’ve been at being teased for everyone to see. Hoseok is cute when he’s flustered, all pink cheeks and ears, lower lip jutting out in a pout that Yoongi doesn’t want to kiss off, no siree.
Yoongi feels himself smiling again at the picture in his head. A sullen Hoseok glaring and hissing hostilely at him, arms crossed in his loose baggy t-shirt as he stomps about. Cute, cute, too cute.
What’s not cute is the way Hoseok posts a few hours later. Completely ignoring Yoongi and setting his nerves off. He squints at the random video of a cat in Hoseok’s story. It’s being groomed by its owner and it’s sort of cute, Yoongi supposes. What would be cuter is if Hoseok would pay attention to him.
It’s when Hoseok posts again— this time a photo of him pouting, hair dishevelled, saying he needs to be groomed too— that Yoongi really starts to panic a little bit. So he does what anyone in their right mind would do. He pulls up Hoseok’s page and checks his likes, frowning when he notes that Hoseok liked Namjoon’s post. Why not his then? Is it only Yoongi that Hoseok is ignoring? That’s not fair at all; that’s quite mean, terrible even.
A small voice in Yoongi’s head tells him he’s being a bit of an asshole thinking that way. Why, this is a consequence of his own stupid actions. It’s all his fault. Hoseok is going to spite him for the rest of his days and Yoongi will forever be left with a chasm in his heart. A bit overdramatic perhaps, but Yoongi isn’t used to not being gushed over.
And that’s how he finds himself knocking on Hoseok’s door, shuffling from one foot to the next as he waits for Hoseok to let him in. After a few moments without any response, dread starts to settle in. Is his dumbassery enough to warrant Hoseok completely cutting him out of his life? What if Hoseok is going to ignore him forever? Even when they’re working or hanging out with the other guys— oh God, what if Hoseok puts an end to “hangouts”?!
The sound of the door unlocking brings Yoongi out of his farfetched thoughts. He stands frozen, with his fist hanging in the air, jaw slack as he stares at a rather sleepy Hoseok, clad in pyjamas that are far too loose, with wacky neon patterns that would look ugly on anyone else but him.
Hoseok rubs at his eyes, looking more than a little out of it, before he takes a step back and waits for Yoongi to come in. It takes Yoongi a beat too long before he scurries inside, closing the door behind him and slipping out of his shoes. When he looks up, Hoseok is already walking away, back facing him. Like he’s leaving him behind. Yoongi’s head provides him with a rather melancholy— and frankly quite unnecessary— melody to go with the film reel of Hoseok walking over to the couch. Maybe Yoongi will use it in his next song. Agust D-3 with a theme of heartache and regret.
“Hyung, what are you doing here?” Hoseok’s voice cracks and he has to clear it audibly. Yoongi notices that he’s taken a seat on the couch now, legs crossed on the seat, chin resting against the cushion in his lap, looking terribly tiny and adorable. He tilts his head to the side, continuing to blink his sleep away before he raises his eyebrows in question, waiting for Yoongi to start talking.
Yoongi gulps, his nerves suddenly feeling on edge. He puts his right foot forward, then his left, slowly walking towards Hoseok, careful, like he’s scared of upsetting him in any way. When he reaches the couch, he slowly takes a seat beside Hoseok. Close enough that he can feel the warmth radiating from Hoseok’s body and catch a faint whiff of his perfume. But far enough that he isn’t touching him.
“I’m—” Yoongi pauses, suddenly unsure of how best to tackle this situation. He looks at Hoseok, noting how he’s sobered up quite a bit by now, eyes sparkling with curiosity as he watches Yoongi with his eyebrows raised. Yoongi groans under his breath, soft enough that Hoseok cannot hear him. He clenches his eyes shut, suddenly regretting all his life decisions and wondering when the fuck he got so deep into his feelings for Hoseok that something as stupid as this has him so on edge.
“I’m sorry, Hob-ah.”
Hoseok’s eyes go wide, his lips parting in surprise. He looks like he’s about to say something. But Yoongi doesn’t give him the chance. He makes a small garbled sound, burrowing his head into his hands, startling Hoseok and making him drop the cushion in his hands.
“Hyung—?”
“I’m sorry for making fun of you,” Yoongi mumbles out, peering through the spaces between his fingers. “That was kinda mean of me—” Hoseok lifts his eyebrow, looking rather unamused at his admission and Yoongi sighs dejectedly. “Okay, fine, that was very mean of me— terrible, even. I was just—” Yoongi groans, letting his hands fall to the side. “I was just teasing you. I would never do anything to purposely hurt your feelings, Hob-ah. You know that, right?”
“Do I?” Hoseok is rubbing his chin, looking deep in thought. “You make fun of me far too much, hyung. The other guys too. But especially you.”
“Well, I’m saying I won’t do it anymore.” Yoongi winces even as the words spill out of his mouth. Hoseok is looking at him with an eyebrow raised in disbelief. Yoongi grunts before murmuring, “For the record, you’re just really fucking cute, okay? I can’t help but wanna pull your leg sometimes.”
“Wow, hyung. I’m loving the apology. Maybe I really should just unfollow you on Instagram—”
“Stop! I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” Yoongi whips his head up, clasping his hands together in apology. “It was just a joke. Where’s your sense of humour, Hob-ah?”
Hoseok scoffs at that, rolling his eyes in disbelief. “Hyung, I swear to god—”
“Okay,” Yoongi says, scrambling so he doesn’t worsen his case. “How about this? Hyung will do whatever you want if you can forget this and go back to normal. Anything you want, Hob-ah.”
“ Anything , you say?” Hoseok’s lips curl into an ‘oh’ in surprise. And then, he’s smiling, eyes twinkling mischievously as he reaches out to loop his hands around Yoongi’s neck. Yoongi startles, completely taken aback by the sudden shift in mood. But he more than enthusiastically leans into Hoseok’s touch, nodding his head fervently. A dozen butterflies bloom in his tummy as he leans into Hoseok’s space, caging him back against the armrest of the couch.
“Anything you want, Hob-ah,’ Yoongi repeats, eyes dropping to Hoseok’s lips, transfixed by the way his pink tongue swipes out to lick across his lower lip. “Anything you want.”
“Hmmm?” Hoseok murmurs, voice low and husky. His hands are in Yoongi’s hair now, carding through the strands, nails grazing his undercut. “There is one thing…” he trails off, arching his back and tugging Yoongi down.
“Yeah?” Yoongi’s eyes droop down until they’re half-lidded, hands skirting across Hoseok’s pyjama-clad thighs, parting his lips, ready to capture Hoseok’s in a lazy kiss.
“Want you to be my cat.”
Yoongi freezes in place, eyes snapping open in bewilderment. His jaw goes slack and he simply stares at Hoseok’s smug face in confusion. Wait, what did he just say right now—?
“Huh?” Yoongi manages to choke out, fingers digging into Hoseok’s hip bones, ignoring the way Hoseok winces at the pressure. “What are you talking about, Hob-ah—?”
“Well, you know how I’ve been wanting a cat recently?” Hoseok hums, smile quickly spreading all the way across his face, tiny dimples poking playfully out at the corners of his mouth. “Be my cat, hyung.” He starts giggling softly, removing his hands from Yoongi’s hair and bringing them down to cup his face instead. Yoongi makes a small startled squeak of surprise when Hoseok squeezes his cheeks together. He’s laughing gleefully now, like a little imp— but still so fucking pretty.
“Be my little Meow Meow, hyungie.”
Yoongi’s eyes nearly pop out of his sockets and he has to gulp down the lump in his throat. Hoseok continues to beam at him like the Cheshire cat, his thumbs rubbing slow circles into Yoongi’s cheekbones. Yoongi wants to wipe the shit-eating grin right off his face. And he’s about to, when he remembers that he’s trying to apologise— he’s trying to bribe his way back into Hoseok’s good side.
He’s just about to give in and play right into Hoseok’s hands when he notices the way Hoseok seems to clamp his lips together into a tight smile, shoulders trembling as if he’s trying to hold in his laughter. He’s having fun with this. He’s getting his own payback. Yoongi scowls, realisation settling in that he’s being played. Well, two can play at that game.
“Alright,” Yoongi whispers, rejoicing internally at the way Hoseok seems to be taken by surprise at his admission. He smiles sweetly, leaning forward and closing the gap between them, hearing Hoseok’s breath hitch audibly at his proximity. “I’ll be your little Meow Meow then, Hob-ah.”
Hoseok opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something, only to squeal out loud when Yoongi licks a stripe across his cheek.
“Hyung, what the fuck—?!” Hoseok sputters, pushing at Yoongi’s chest and groaning when he doesn’t move an inch. “What are you doing— Oh my god, are you licking me?!”
“Yeah,” Yoongi purrs out, smirking before he traces an open-mouthed path down to the hollow between Hoseok’s neck and collarbones. He laps against Hoseok’s pulse point, tingles running down his nape when Hoseok starts to whimper beneath him. He nibbles at the soft flesh before laving at it with his tongue. “Just grooming you like a good little Meow Meow is supposed to, Hob-ah.”
Hoseok groans, trembling under his ministrations. He’s spitting a litany of curses, begging for Yoongi to stop, saying it’s gross to lick him when he’s all sweaty after dance practice. Truth be told, Yoongi doesn’t mind at all. It’s supposed to be a sort of payback, but he ends up with a chest full of warm gooey feelings and arms full of pliant defeated Hoseok.
“Gonna be the best little Meow Meow for you, Hob-ah,” Yoongi whispers, lapping playfully at Hoseok’s upper lip mole, before he gives in and finally steals Hoseok’s lips in a kiss. “Just perfect for you, baby,” Yoongi says, licking into Hoseok’s mouth, hands trailing down to sneak under Hoseok’s shirt and make him gasp in surprise. He starts sputtering, thrashing around when Yoongi’s fingers graze against his ticklish spots.
All the while, Yoongi smiles against Hoseok’s lips, thinking about just how endeared he is by Hoseok— how absolutely whipped he is. But who can blame him really? Hoseok is really just that freaking adorable when he’s getting teased, a bumbling flustered mess of soft flushed cheeks and pouty spit slicked lips.
Pretty pretty pretty. Always just for Yoongi.
Fin