Work Text:
It had started out innocently enough. Wednesday night date night. Dinner at your place, cooked by Yoongi. A movie you’d both been wanting to watch that had been abandoned halfway through. One kiss turned into another, and then more.
He pulled you closer, carefully guiding you to his lap, his hands finding purchase on your thighs. His fingers dug in as your lips moved together desperately. One of your hands was buried in his hair, tugging gently on the soft strands. He groaned softly, kissing his way to your neck and nipping at the skin there. His tongue laved over the bite to soothe it, his attention focused there until he was satisfied with his work. He placed a soft kiss to the spot, and you were sure that you would have a bruise there soon.
Slowly, his hands dragged upwards from your thighs, his fingertips ghosting up your sides, taking your t-shirt with them as he moved higher. His touch left goosebumps in its wake. For a second, you thought he would stop–you’d been here before and he’d never tried to take it any further–but his hands kept climbing, pulling your shirt up and off. Your brain was so fogged that you let him, and you heard the fabric hit the floor as he dropped it beside the couch.
You stiffened slightly as he kissed down your neck, lips trailing across your collarbone and down to the curve of your breast. He left hot, open mouthed kisses as he went, one hand massaging your breast over your bra. Your hand froze briefly in his hair, cradling the back of his head for a moment before you realized that you should be responding to his touch and you resumed playing with the short tresses.
You sighed, losing yourself in your thoughts for a moment as Yoongi’s hands roamed and he kissed his way from your chest back up to your lips. It had been a while, but you’d been here before, enough times to know what was supposed to happen next. The difference was that this time, you liked Yoongi. You wanted to make this work. So you played along. Maybe you’d actually start to enjoy yourself the further it went.
But Yoongi stopped. His eyes met yours and he tilted his head slightly, dark hair falling into his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” You shook your head. Really, you supposed nothing was wrong. He was enjoying himself–you could tell by the half-hard pressure against your thigh as you adjusted your weight to be more comfortable–and that was what you cared about.
He frowned. “Jagi, you’re tense. Relax.” His hand fell to your leg and squeezed gently. “Did I do something?”
“No, I’m okay.” You smiled, hoping he would believe you. “Honestly.”
You’d only been dating a few months, but already, he could read you like a book. So you weren’t surprised when he reached down and scooped your shirt off the floor and handed it to you, a soft look in his eye. “You weren’t enjoying it.”
“That’s not true, I just…” You shrugged, allowing him to help you pull your shirt back over your head. “Wasn’t into it, I guess.”
“And you were just going to let me keep going?”
“I didn’t mind,” you told him honestly, sliding off his lap and onto the sofa.
“Jagi…” He sighed and didn’t continue.
Your stomach sank. Was he mad? Disappointed? Sure, you weren’t into it, but you weren’t opposed to letting him take things further. But you could understand him wanting a partner who reciprocated things enthusiastically.
“I just-”
“Did I read this wrong?” He adjusted how he was sitting so that he was facing you. “It’s fine if I did, I just…” He shrugged, and for a moment, you saw something that looked like sadness flash in his deep brown eyes. But then it was gone, replaced by an honest confusion. “Did I need to do more?”
“No! I just… I’m not…” you stumbled, unsure of how to continue.
You could tell him the truth. You could tell him that you just… weren’t interested in sex. But would he take that the wrong way? Would he accept it? Your relationship was barely getting off the ground, you didn’t want it to end so soon.
“You’re not…. into me?” Yoongi finished for you, a question in his tone. The sadness was back in his eyes. He looked hurt, and you hated that.
“God, no. You-you’re…” You reached out to cup his cheek, but thought better of it halfway through, your hand dropping into your lap. He had mentioned how much of a pain in the ass his skincare routine was. You didn’t want to ruin it. “You’re like… the prettiest man I’ve ever met.” It wasn’t a lie. Before that fateful night at the karaoke bar when you’d met, you’d known that Jimin’s friends were all extremely pretty. But Yoongi… he was more beautiful than anyone else you’d ever met. How he thought you weren’t attracted to him, you had no idea.
Briefly, his eyes widened, a hint of pink springing to his cheeks. But then he frowned. “I don’t understand, then. What-”
“I’m just not interested in sex,” you said quickly, gaze falling to your lap. Your heart was pounding in your chest–but somehow also it had sunk deep into your stomach. All of a sudden, you felt like you were going to puke.
“What?” Yoongi’s head fell to the side in question.
“I’m ace.” Your voice was quiet, but you hoped he had heard you. You could feel your hands getting clammy, and you weren’t sure that, if he asked you to repeat yourself, you’d be able to.
Yoongi laughed.
He actually leaned back a little and laughed.
All of a sudden, your mouth was dry. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, the thrumming dangerously fast as your embarrassment spread like wildfire across your cheeks. Your thoughts flashed backwards in time. The boy in high school who told you it was just because you’d never messed around before. The guy in college who insisted you’d just never had anyone like him.
Before you knew what was happening, you were off the couch, attempting to retreat into the kitchen. Yoongi made a surprised noise before reaching out, his hand gently wrapping around your arm before you could get too far.
“Hey, hold on,” he said softly, the hint of a chuckle still in his voice. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. It wasn’t directed at you, I promise.”
You weren’t sure what you looked like to him, but standing there in front of him, his hand clasped around your wrist, your heart pounding so hard you were sure he could feel it, you felt small. He was your friend. He was Yoongi . But you were frozen to the spot, unable to keep walking into the kitchen if you’d wanted to.
Cautiously, tenderly, he pulled on your wrist, guiding you back to the couch. You fell gracelessly onto him, half in his lap, half beside him, your legs draped over his own.
“I didn’t mean to laugh,” he repeated, ducking his head to look into your eyes. “I was just relieved that you still like me.”
“I just…” you sighed, unsure of how to proceed. Did you really want to get into it with him right now? You’d been together for four months, your relationship was still new. You didn’t want to chase him away by dumping your entire life’s story on him. So you simply said, “It’s not the worst reaction to it that I’ve heard.”
Yoongi frowned, his brow furrowing, and his dark eyes softened. “I’m so sorry.” He pulled you a little closer, one arm laying across your shins, the other wrapping around your back both to keep you near and to prevent you from falling off the couch. “I’ll admit that it’s not something I’ve ever had to deal with before, and I have questions, but god, I…” He swallowed thickly as he thought. “I don’t want you to feel like I don’t respect you, especially for something like this.”
You nodded. You didn’t mind that he had questions. Honestly, it would be a little concerning if he didn’t. Though your heart was still pounding, you no longer felt like you were going to puke. Yoongi’s thumb caressed your side over your t-shirt, the heat of his hand soothing your nerves. Not for the first time, you were surprised at how truly comforting his presence was, even though you were still a little unsure about how the whole situation was going to go.
“Do you want to talk about it?” You remained silent, unsure of how to answer him. “Do you mind if I ask some things?”
“No, I… whatever you want to know.”
For a moment, he was silent, his focus on his hand on your shins, his fingers tracing patterns into the fabric of your joggers. But finally, he spoke, his voice tentative and unsure. “It’s… a spectrum right?” You nodded. “Do you know…” He paused, and you could tell he was trying to choose his words carefully. “Are there things you’re more comfortable doing than others?”
You hummed. You liked when he held you, whether it was a full-blown cuddle or just an arm slung around your shoulders. It grounded you, made you feel safe. And you liked kissing him. You’d never thought that you would be the type of person to crave kissing someone, but you could easily get addicted to the feeling of Yoongi’s lips on yours. But when it came to actual sexual activities… you weren’t opposed to anything necessarily, but you didn’t like it being a surprise. You preferred to know what was coming when possible, to know what you were getting yourself into. And while you couldn’t see yourself getting to that point frequently, you weren’t against it every once in a while.
Yoongi listened intently as you explained your feelings to him, his eyes never leaving your face. He nodded every once in a while, and you could see when he would make a mental note of something, storing information for later when he needed it.
He squeezed your knee when you paused, waiting to see if you would continue before asking his next question. “Do you have a problem if I…” He trailed off, a slight dusting of pink beginning to color his cheeks.
“I would never ask you to go fully without. Do what you need to do. Just…” You looked down at your hands in your lap. “Tell me if you think you need to look elsewhere for something.”
“I don’t think there would be a need for that,” he said quickly, his hand moving from your shin to cover your own. He gave a gentle squeeze. “I have two hands. That’s more than enough.”
He laughed, a wide, toothy grin overtaking his face and hiding the deep blush that had settled on his skin. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his attempt at a joke, too, leaning into him as your bodies shook together in laughter.
When you calmed down, you let yourself stay against him, your head lolling over to rest on his shoulder. You listened to him breathe in the silence, and after a moment, his thumb resumed rubbing circles into your side. It was comfortable. You were comfortable. You hadn’t expected it to go this well.
You weren’t ashamed of your sexuality, far from it. But you’d be lying if you said it didn’t complicate things. It turned almost all of your relationships–few though they may have been–into work. Not even the fun kind of work, where you enjoy learning about each other and spend time together. But the hard kind, with arguments and disagreements and stress. It hadn’t been like that so far with Yoongi. You wanted to keep it that way.
“What are you thinking about?” Yoongi’s whispered question brought you back to reality.
“I don’t know, just…” You sighed and shrugged. “Not used to this. Not used to it going well.”
He hummed, his arm tightening around you, holding you closer to his chest. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss into your hair before speaking again. “I’m not promising that it’ll be perfect. I’m sure I’ll fuck it up at some point, but be patient with me. I want to learn.”
“And if you change your mind?”
“I don’t know what the future holds,” he mumbled into your hair, lips connecting once again with the side of your head in a soft kiss. “But I’m not ready to give up on us yet.”
You nodded against him. You believed him. Or, at least, believed that he believed what he was saying. Time would tell, you supposed. But for the moment, with his thumb rubbing circles into your side and his head leaning against your own… all the hope you’d had for your relationship began to ignite inside you again.
You shifted your weight so that you could look at him, and when his deep brown eyes met yours, you leaned in and kissed him. There was no real heat behind it, just your lips moving against his slowly, gently. When you broke apart, he held you tighter, your hand coming up to cup his cheek.
“Thank you.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, and you said nothing else, but you could tell he understood by the soft look in his eyes.