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Min Yoongi wasn't the kind of guy who would spend his Friday night going to a party like most guys his age. In fact, he was definitely not the kind of guy who would pretend to be a model who works with high-end brands to get into an exclusive yacht club party in Santa Monica.
Everything he wore was either from Hot Topic or his brother's closet, he didn't give a shit about designer clothes and fancy accessories. He was only getting into this whole mess for the one thing he cared about in his life, his art.
Yoongi was actually working on a short film. Nothing big, just another school assignment where he attempted to critique classism and stupid societal rules. He guessed crashing a rich people's party was the proper way to do it, because he hated doing things halfway.
So, there he was wearing a light shade of brown eyeshadow instead of heavy dark eyeliner, and tinted lip balm that he definitely did not steal from his brother's girlfriend. He unbuttoned the first two buttons of his white linen shirt and looked down at his beige slim-fitted chinos; he had actually bought them unironically, he thought they could be useful someday and tonight was the night. Min Yoongi was now ready for the façade of his life.
There was some dumb pop song playing when he finally arrived at the extravagant place, he had heard it once or twice on the radio. Yoongi ran a hand through his black hair and made his way to the line at the entrance. He thought it was so stupid to have a list of people who were allowed to attend a party, but it kind of made sense. He would hate it if the football team went to his parties. Not that he enjoyed throwing them anyway.
"Name?" the towering guard asked, not even caring to look up from his old-fashioned leather notebook. Yoongi pretends he doesn’t notice the way he rolled his eyes.
"Kim Jae-wook," He lies confidently, and watches as the guard checks his list and nods after finding his fake name on the list. Really? Not even asking for an ID that Yoongi took three days to fake? He had made sure to plan everything a few days ahead. And the real Kim Jae-Wook was probably busy at some art auction getting some expensive paintings anyway, he didn't have time to go to a stupid party.
Min Yoongi, not Kim Jae-wook, makes his way through the place. He takes a look at the immaculate ice sculptures, the color-changing lights, and of course, the canapés on every tray being offered by waiters. He steals one, as well as a glass of champagne and indulges as if he was actually a rich man at some fancy party. He's not even supposed to drink at seventeen, especially not in America, but it's also not like anybody cared.
After his fancy snack, Yoongi grabs his camera from his Huckberry backpack and begins with the action. He catches two women wearing pastel-colored dresses and chatting about a bunch of superficial things in-between sips of quirky cocktails, he doesn’t want to focus on conversations though, he wants action, but the pair of women whispering with mocking smiles about Patricia who wore the same dress as last time is probably worth including in the short film. He was well aware it was wrong to film people without their consent, but nobody would say anything since it was high school homework, his teacher wasn’t going to sue him for that.
Yoongi walks around the yacht and the music seemed to have gotten better. He won’t admit it to anyone but he’s an avid Taylor Swift listener, so he unconsciously starts singing along to the song. His eyes spark in interest when he notices some people migrating to the pier, where there’s an arrangement of cupcakes waiting to be devoured. His sweet tooth betrays him, and Yoongi ends up following the crowd (the one thing he claimed to hate doing).
He was walking on the boardwalk making his way to the dessert arrangement, when someone bumped into him and made him drop his backpack. The backpack where his camera was.
“Are you stupid or something? Watch where you’re going,” he snaps at the stranger, probably getting too much into character and acting like he supposed a rich actor would act. He’s not actually that mean in real life, he knows that sometimes shit happens but his camera is one of his most precious assets. He was expecting some old man wearing a dumb hat who was dizzy after a few drinks, his eyes weren’t expecting to see a good-looking guy standing in front of him. The handsome stranger was wearing a dark green polo shirt and khakis, Sperry shoes being the perfect complement for his outfit. Yoongi found it difficult to tear his eyes apart from him. Gosh, he has dimples.
"Apologies. I should have watched where I was going, uhh…"
"Kim Jae-wook," Yoongi completes the sentence.
"Pleasure to meet you, Kim-ssi," the stranger says, probably torn between making a reverence or reaching to shake the man's hand. Yoongi quickly extends his hand to reassure him and avoid all awkwardness.
"The pleasure is all mine, uhh…"
"Choi Woo-shik," the guy says. And Yoongi isn't sure if he's imagining things, or if this guy is playing the same game as him. His friend Taehyung talks about an actor named Choi Woo-shik all the time, it’s his all-time celebrity crush, and this guy looks nothing like him, from what he's seen in the magazines at least.
"Ahh, I've watched your latest drama, the one where you interpret a law student. I enjoyed it quite a lot," Yoongi lied. He's making everything up just for the pleasure of catching this man in a lie; as if he wasn't doing the exact same thing.
"Why, thank you. I'm glad to find a fellow admirer," the fake Choi Woo-shik says with a smile, and Yoongi tries not to stare at those dimples for too long. Actor or commoner, the guy is really charming.
"Wait… weren't you supposed to be in Australia right now? You know, for that movie you're starring in."
He can see the guy sweat nervously, looking up as if he's thinking of an appropriate lie to tell at that moment but he's too slow, and clearly not a good actor.
"Uh, well… I just couldn't miss this party, you know? Can't disappoint the host."
"Right, Mr. Fredricksen would be disappointed if you didn't show up."
"Exactly."
Strike three, he's been caught in a lie.
Yoongi takes one of the cupcakes of the fancy arrangement and dips his index finger in the frosting, he guesses it's strawberry flavored, judging by the soft pink-colored frosting. He sucks on his finger and pretends he doesn't notice the guy's eyes following his every movement, and he smiles. He's got him wrapped around his finger, and the cupcake is not just plain strawberry, but pink champagne flavored.
"You know," he begins. He arches an eyebrow and his eyes stare directly into the alleged actor's. "Choi Woo-shik didn't star in a Law school drama, and he's certainly not about to film a movie in Australia since he’s busy with a thriller he’s filming in Seoul. If you intended to impersonate him, you should at least have done your homework. You're pretending to be an actor but you can’t even act."
"I- That's not-" the stranger struggled. He seemed frightened and his eyes appeared guilty while he was being confronted. "Please don't tell anyone… don't tell Mr. Fredricksen…"
Yoongi snickers at the last part, this guy was really a fool. There’s no fucking Mr. Fredricksen, he made everything up.
"You're unbelievable… I picked the name because of that old man from that Pixar movie, Up. I actually have no idea who threw this stupid party," Yoongis's face breaks into a smile and he extends his hand to the stranger once again, this time for real.
“Min Yoongi,” he says. The other guy grabs his hand with caution and squeezes it. “What’s your real name?”
“Kim Namjoon…”
“Well,” Yoongi says, letting go of Kim Namjoon’s hand. “Seems like I’m the one who should be calling you Kim-ssi.”
“Just Namjoon is okay.” And there they are, those dimples again. And Yoongi isn’t a love-at-first-sight kind of guy, but for Kim Namjoon he might make an exception. He’s enamored by those dimples, that charming smile and his clumsy nature. He wasn’t in love, but he sure was infatuated.
“Namjoon,” he repeats. “You can call me hyung.”
“Hyung? But you seem even younger than me! How old are you?”
Yoongi wants to roll his eyes at the guy’s mocking tone, but he’ll let it slide just because Namjoon is kinda cute.
“I’m seventeen. Was born on March 9th.”
“Damn, I’ll be sixteen on September 12th,” Namjoon says, scratching his head in embarrassment. “I guess you’re my hyung after all.” He has a shy smile on his face, and his hair is covering half of his forehead. Yoongi wants to kiss the dimples on his cheeks but he shouldn’t be thinking about that right now. Not right now.
“You know… for a Virgo, you’re kinda clumsy and you don’t pay enough attention to details. Your zipper is down by the way.” Yoongi grabs another pink champagne cupcake and walks away from Namjoon, making his way toward the yacht again.
“Hey! Why were you looking down there anyway??” Namjoon shouts, making some head turns in curiosity. He apologizes for the noise and follows Yoongi towards the yacht. “Wait for me, hyung!”
That’s how the two teenagers found themselves in the middle of the crowd, getting way too close to each other because there was too much noise to hear what the other was saying. Hands lingering, lips rosing their cheeks, and Yoongi smiling more than he has during the last few months. His school assignment was now long forgotten, all that he could think of was the stranger tugging at his sleeve asking him to dance with him. And Yoongi hates dancing anywhere that isn’t his room, but for Namjoon he might make another exception. Just because he’s kinda cute.
“Why… Why are you even here?” Namjoon asks as his hands find Yoongi’s waist. And Yoongi doesn’t want him to see his blushing cheeks so he hides his face in the crook of Namjoon’s neck. Even though he’s younger, Namjoon is way taller… and Yoongi really likes tall guys.
“A school assignment, that’s what the camera is for,” he tells the truth. “What about you?”
Namjoon shrugs nonchalantly and grips Yoongi’s waist a little tighter. It definitely doesn’t make Yoongi squirm.
“It might sound stupid since I’m so young but I’ve always wanted to be a writer.”
The eldest nods to indicate Namjoon to continue.
“I’m… kinda writing a book? I needed inspiration since the story takes place at a yacht club party. So, here I am”.
It makes Yoongi snicker, it seems they’re not so different after all. Both working on their own art by sneaking into a fancy party like this, pretending they’re someone that they’re not since there was no other way for some skimpy teenagers to ever be invited to something as exclusive as this.
“How come you picked Woo-shik? You look nothing like him.”
It’s Namjoon’s turn to snicker. “Oh please, these people just don’t care. They’d see an Asian name on the list and assume that’s me.”
“True, but they’ll still glance at you with disgust and mutter some nasty things a little too loud. What a bunch of hypocrites”.
“Oh? I thought that only happened to me…”
They stop dancing, but Namjoon’s hands are still holding Yoongi’s waist tightly. He’s not even thinking about letting him go.
“Most rich white American people are racist, nothing new. And the fact that I’m clearly younger than everyone here makes it worse. They think they're superior because they get to throw these parties every week, and they’re so exclusive so nobody barges in and irrupts their business.”
“I… I’ve never met anyone who understood that feeling. In the book I’m writing, two working-class men go to a yacht party. It takes place during the summer of 1945, and the protagonist pretends to be a prince from a far-away land, while his love interest cross-dresses and pretends to be a duchess”.
Now that was an interesting and quite familiar story if you asked him. Yoongi suddenly finds interest in it and wants to hear more about it.
“Why didn’t he just pretend to be a duke? Why dress as a woman?”
“Where’s the fun in that? There are already so many books with that kind of plot”.
“Well, yeah you’re right,” Yoongi admits.
This is what happens. The two boys dance to songs they don’t even know, eat way too many canapés and a few pink champagne cupcakes. Yoongi keeps recording videos for his school project until Namjoon steals his camera and turns his work into some sort of vacation vlog. They both end up leaving the party and walking along the beach until they reach a nice spot to lay down and look at the stars. The music now just a soft buzz from afar because the sounds of ocean waves and Namjoon’s breathing are louder, and Yoongi… Yoongi can’t get enough of it.
“How does your book end? The fake prince and the fake duchess get together? Do they get discovered by the party host?”
They're awfully close, Namjoon’s breath tickling Yoongi’s ear whenever he laughs. He gets even closer until his lips are almost brushing Yoongi’s skin.
“I haven’t decided yet, I guess I’ll have to keep writing”.
Of course he would say that.
“Well, I expect a signed copy when the book is published.”
“You can count on that.”
Yoongi turns his head slightly, not even bothered by the sand that is sticking to his messy hair. He tries to memorize the look on Namjoon’s face as he watches the stars up in the sky, dumbfounded. The way his nose wrinkles, his eyes wide and his eyebrows raised. But when Namjoon turns to look at him, his eyes linger and he licks his lips involuntarily. Yoongi hopes it isn’t really involuntary.
“What are you looking at?” he asks with a nonchalant tone, pretending Namjoon’s heavy stare doesn’t affect him at all. Why was he even looking at him so much?
“Your lips are still pink, even if your lip balm is gone”.
How was Yoongi supposed to react to a comment like that?? Did Kim Namjoon just openly admit he’s been openly staring at his lips?? Is that what was happening??
“You… You shouldn’t stare at people’s lips like that,” Yoongi feels a little daring today, he’s not one to usually flirt so shamelessly like this but for Namjoon, he might make one more exception. “Unless you’re asking for a kiss…”
“What if I’m too shy to ask?” Namjoon’s words come as a murmur, making Yoongi just a little dizzier than he already was.
“You didn’t seem so shy when you had your hands all over me earlier, when we were dancing”.
If Yoongi leaned just a few centimeters, they would be kissing. He wonders if that would be okay. If Namjoon would kiss him back. He guesses there’s only one way to know, it’s now or never.
Their lips finally touch. It takes a few seconds for Namjoon to close his eyes but when he does, he suddenly the pretty sigh of the stars he was looking at a few minutes ago. Now all he could think about is Yoongi, and his soft pink lips moving against his own. Yoongi tilts his head to the side and sighs into the kiss, and it’s not just a chaste press of lips anymore. He feels drunk, dazed, dizzy; there’s nothing else in Yoongi’s mind other than Namjoon’s lips and the taste of sweet strawberry frosting.
Perhaps they just met but Yoongi feels like he’s known Namjoon for years. His dumb jokes, clumsiness and the way his lips taste feel new and exciting, but paradoxically, they also feel like home. Like a tight hug after a long trip, like a warm cup of tea in the middle of the night, like a movie you’ve rewatched a million of times.
“Hyung,” Namjoon whispers against Yoongi’s lips. “You’ll let me watch your documentary after you finish it, right?”
Yoongi seriously wonders why Namjoon decided to bring that up right now when all he can think about is the way his heart is beating inside his chest, but he manages to answer when he catches his breath.
“You’ll be the first one to watch it,” he promises. And he can hear a soft chuckle coming from Namjoon, that is, before his lips find Yoongi’s once again.
After a long night of laughter, kisses and dancing under the moonlight, Yoongi asks Namjoon the question he’s been wanting to ask the whole night.
“Why did you really come here?”
Namjoon just shrugs and says, “I just came here for inspiration, that’s all. Nothing out of the ordinary”.
Yoongi nods in understanding and presses another kiss on Namjoon’s lips. He still tastes sweet.
“And did you find it? Did you find the inspiration you were looking for?”
It feels as if Namjoon’s eyes are staring right into his soul, and the younger guy nods slowly. His lips find Yoongi’s once more, and they make their way to his temple where he takes his sweet time before whispering,
“Yeah. Yeah, I think I did”.
***
twelve years later
A tailored suit and a pair of dress shoes definitely weren’t Min Yoongi’s usual attire, but for this special event, he might make an exception. He looks in the mirror and his mind instantly goes back some years when he had pretended to be a model to sneak into a fancy party. He looks back at the experience with nostalgia and he can’t help but giggle at the thought of his seventeen-year-old self making his first short film for a school project. Who would’ve thought he’d end up directing and producing for the big screen at twenty-five? And that had happened a few years ago.
Nevertheless, this night wasn’t about him.
Namjoon got out of the bathroom wearing a white fitted suit, matching Yoongi’s black one and looking as classy as ever. The eldest couldn’t help but give his boyfriend a once-over look.
“What are you looking at?” Namjoon chuckles while he gives his hair the finishing touches.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you wearing clothes that aren’t sweatpants or boxers in like a year, that’s all”.
“Hey!”
“Come on, you don’t want to be late for your party,” Yoongi chuckles as he takes Namjoon’s hand and leads him to the door.
The ride from the hotel to Santa Monica Pier took around twenty minutes, which felt like seconds as Namjoon blared the mixtape that he had made for their little road trip. It had both his and Namjoon’s favorite songs that they listened to while they drove with the windows down.
Yoongi was always in charge of driving since Namjoon couldn’t be bothered to get his driver’s license. He much rather walk or take his bike everywhere, but he did enjoy being on the copilot seat and being in charge of the music choices, as well as rest his hand on his boyfriend’s thigh as he drove.
“You’re being distracting again,” Yoongi complains without taking his eyes off the road, a smile creeping on his lips.
“Am I now?” Namjoon snickers and squeezes Yoongi’s thigh.
“Yah, we’re almost there, let me concentrate on the road”.
Namjoon gives up and stops squeezing, but his hand remains in his favorite place.
The music is already playing when they arrive at the pier, a group of people already on their seats waiting for the event to start, and a smaller group hovering over the cupcake arrangement. Yoongi makes a mental note to steal one or two before they’re gone.
Namjoon’s manager is asking him if he memorized his speech, the makeup artist is giving the finishing touches to his face, and Yoongi can only stand there and watch as Namjoon answers every single question he’s being asked. He ends up taking the seat that was reserved just for him, tonight he didn’t have to give out a fake name, he was just Min Yoongi, the author’s fiancé. Damn, that sounded good.
Namjoon had been working on the Starlight trilogy since he was a scrawny kid in high school. His work had been mocked by some of his university professors before, saying it was just a silly love story, which resulted in him leaving his novel unfinished and untouched for years. He prioritized other works, but writing boring non-fiction didn’t excite him one bit. His old manuscript ended up thrown on the shelf and covered in a thin layer of dust.
It was Yoongi who convinced him to give it a try. Namjoon had graduated with honors and had been publishing short stories here and there, but he still didn’t dare submit his old novel for publishing. Yoongi was the one who contacted a few small publishing houses, and he sent the manuscript that ended up being a total hit amongst young people.
Now, the final part of the trilogy had just come out and there was a big event ahead. There was no better place to hold it than the pier where Namjoon had first met the first person who believed in him and his writing.
The writer had made sure everything was perfect. He rambled every night when he was laying in bed next to his lover, telling him that he had ordered over one hundred pink champagne cupcakes, just like the ones they shared the night they met. He had made sure the whole place was decorated with fairy lights, and that the DJ would play the best music. And even though the book reading and signing event was only available to those who had bought tickets, the launching party was open to the public. Everyone would be able to come, everyone was invited this time.
The book reading went y smoothly. Namjoon gave his speech and proceeded to read the first chapter of Impossible dreams , the last book in the trilogy. The public went from touched to ecstatic when the author finished reading and the chapter ended up in a cliffhanger. Namjoon just laughed and told them it was another reason to buy the book.
The signing took a little longer since Namjoon loved to hear about the reader’s thoughts on the series, and their expectations for this last part. Yoongi played with his glass before downing the champagne as he waited for the party to start. Who would’ve thought someone as introverted as Min Yoongi would be excited about a party?
When Namjoon was finally free, Yoongi was already looking over at him with a shy smile.
“Missed me?” the author asks with a chuckle.
Yoongi hums and hands him a cupcake. “I saved you one, everyone was going crazy about them”.
“And that’s why you’re the best,” Namjoon says before dipping his finger into the frosting and having a taste. “I also got something for you”.
“Oh? What is it?”
Namjoon smiles and picks up a paper bag that he had left beside him on the floor. He hands it to Yoongi, and the older guy snickers when he sees what’s inside.
“Now I have a signed copy of every book in the Starlight series, what did I do to deserve this?”
“Just being the best fiancé a guy could ask for”.
“You love saying that, don’t you? Calling me your fiancé,” Yoongi holds the book close to his chest. He secretly loves it too.
And it isn’t only about Namjoon’s dimples appearing when he smiles or the way he scratches his head awkwardly but Yoongi just wants to kiss him there and then. Of course, only if Namjoon agrees to dance with him first.
“Oh my, what a marvelous tune,” Namjoon exclaims as he arrives at the middle of the wooden dance floor with Yoongi by his side. And yoongi, he can’t help but snort at the peculiar choice of words, as it’s not something a young millennial would say.
“I think spending months locked in your room writing that book ended up affecting your brain. You’re talking like an old man,” Yoongi tells him while his hands take grasp of Namjoon’s shoulders.
“Excuse me, how old are you? Oh, that’s right. You’re thirty!” Namjoon fights back. His hands expertly find their way around his boyfriend’s waist, pulling him closer.
“Yah, I’m only twenty-nine”.
“But you’ll be thirty when we get married”.
“Who cares how old I’ll be. What matters here is that I’m going to be yours, officially”.
“Officially, because you’re already mine,” Namjoon whispers against Yoongi’s lips. It only takes a few seconds and Yoongi is already standing on his tiptoes and reaching to kiss his fiancé's lips.
In a few months, Min Yoongi would be directing and producing his third movie, moving into a nice house by the shore, and marrying the love of his life. Some clumsy guy who spent half of his days stuck in his one-bedroom apartment writing, and the other half was spent riding his bike since he rather die than learn how to parallel park.
It took a few years, tears and late-night emotional breakdowns; his blood, sweat and tears. But Min Yoongi was about to make all his wildest dreams come true. What would his next dream be? An Oscar, an invite to Cannes, maybe one or two puppies running around the house. What mattered to him the most was that he didn’t feel alone anymore, not in life nor in his crazy ideas and plans.
Maybe dreams weren’t impossible after all.