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With your birthday being when it was, you had assumed that when you became an adult, it would have fallen by the wayside. Tucked evenly between Christmas and New Year’s, it would be easy to overlook the date as just another day in the holiday season. But now, in your mid-twenties, your friends had almost taken it as a challenge.
No one understood the post-Christmas birthday woes more than Taehyung, whose birthday was only two days after yours. Granted, he didn’t have New Year’s to compete with like you did–Korean New Year aligning more with the lunar calendar, January 1 wasn’t nearly as important for him. But for as long as you’d known him, Tae did his best to make your birthday special.
This year, it had been a little harder to do your standard three-day birthday celebration, but the two of you made it work. It was the first day of your celebrations–your birthday–and Tae had ordered far too much food from your favorite takeout restaurant. You sat on the floor of the dorm’s living room with him and Jimin, the three of you stuffing your faces.
“I wish you could have been there when we filmed for MAMA,” Jimin was saying as he shoved three French fries in his mouth. “It just didn’t feel right for some reason.” He motioned to his throat as he chewed.
“Well, you sounded like an angel. I honestly don’t know why you still pay me. You don’t need me anymore.” You sighed and dramatically fell against Tae.
Jimin laughed gleefully and threw a fry at you. The three of you fell into a comfortable silence as you continued to eat. Occasionally, one of the boys would tell you about something that happened to them recently, but mostly, you ate in silence.
“It’s a shame Yoongi-hyung couldn’t make it this year.” Tae balled up the wrapper of his burger and threw it on the coffee table you were all sitting around.
You shrugged. “He’s busy. Especially now that he has that sling off. I’ve never seen him more excited to go to a meeting than he was this morning.”
Tae shot you a boxy grin, but it didn’t meet his eyes. “Still, he’s missing the birthday celebrations.”
It was true, and you were a little disappointed because of it. But you would never tell Yoongi that. You missed him, but getting back into the swing of BTS, doing everything he could now that he was actually able to do things, that was infinitely more important than your birthday. You weren’t lying to Taehyung when you said he had been excited to attend his meeting with Bang Si-Hyuk and the PR team that day–he had practically been vibrating as you drove him to the dorms, holding your free hand and squeezing it every few seconds nervously.
“We don’t need him,” you joked, and the three of you tapped your soda bottles together just Hobi walked into the room.
“Don’t need who?” Hobi questioned, leaning against the back of the couch to watch the three of you.
“Yoongi-hyung. He’s missing all the fun.” Jimin started to clean up the dishes and remnants from your meal.
Hobi hummed and nodded in understanding. After a moment more of idle chatting, he disappeared further into the dorm, leaving you, Tae, and Jimin alone once again. Soon after, Taehyung excused himself to go work on some things for his mixtape, leaving you and Jimin alone to scroll through Netflix in an attempt to find something to watch.
Just as Jimin was about to give up on Netflix, Hobi reappeared, a plastic box in his hands. You could hear it rattle as he sat down beside the two of you on the floor. You raised an eyebrow at Hobi, curious what was in his box, but Jimin flashed his hyung a knowing grin. Hobi returned it brightly before popping open the lid, revealing several colors of embroidery floss and hundreds of neatly organized beads.
“I made bracelets for the guys on a livestream over the summer,” he explained, pulling out some thread, his smile not disappearing. “And I thought it was really relaxing. I think we could all use a bit of relaxation right now.” You hummed, nodding in understanding. The guys had been going pretty much non-stop before Christmas, and the next few days would be filled with rehearsals and preparations for their New Year’s Eve concert. “Would you like to make one with me?” Hobi held out the unopened embroidery floss for you to choose from.
“I haven’t made these since I was a kid,” you admitted with a laugh, taking the black and white from him.
Hobi laughed, offering the thread to Jimin. “I’m sure it’ll all come back.”
When Yoongi returned to the dorm, you could tell he was exhausted. You sat on the couch cross-legged, a blanket draped over your lap, staring blankly at Hobi over the Uno cards you were holding. After bracelet-making, Jungkook had arrived back at the dorm, and he insisted on playing cards with you, Jimin, and Hobi.
Since you sat on the side of the couch facing the entry, you were the first to notice when Yoongi and Namjoon walked in the door. As soon as your eyes met his, he flashed you a tired smile, making his way around the couch to you. He leaned on the plush back cushion, his right arm wrapped around your shoulders from behind, his left arm stayed tucked into his side thanks to the sling he still had to wear when he went out.
“How was your meeting?” you questioned, leaning forward to place a red four on the pile. Jungkook yelled in frustration, drawing five cards before finally being able to play a blue four.
Yoongi placed a quick kiss to your hair before resting his chin on your shoulder. “Good. Long. I’m definitely ready to go home.”
You smiled, patting his arm. “Once we’re done with this game we can go.”
“Hope is sitting on three draw fours and a draw two.” Yoongi laughed when Jungkook yelled at Hobi, demanding to see his hand.
“That’s not fair! We’ve already played one draw four!” the maknae shrieked, staring in disbelief as Hobi flipped his hand around to show the three wild cards.
“You had to have stacked your hand somehow!” Jimin protested, his eyes sparkling with understanding as he reached for the rest of the deck and shuffled through it to look for any dirty tricks.
“I mean, there are four of them in a deck, so it isn’t impossible.” You shrugged, tossing your hand onto the discard pile. “It’s just highly unlikely.”
Jungkook groaned in rage, forcefully throwing the five cards he had left at Hobi. “I almost had Uno, too!”
“Aw, guys, don’t go away mad!” Hobi said with a laugh, watching with unadulterated amusement as Jungkook stalked back the hall. Jimin sat the deck down with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest in a playful pout.
You patted Yoongi’s arm and he let go of you, allowing you to stand and stretch. “Thanks for letting me hang out with you guys today,” you said, folding the blanket you had been using.
“Thank you for wanting to spend your birthday with us.” Jimin stood and wrapped you in a tight hug. “I’d go get Tae to say goodbye, but he was napping when I went to go get Uno…”
“Let him sleep. I’ll talk to him tomorrow before you guys go do concert things.” Jimin grinned at that and nodded. You handed him the now folded blanket.
“Thanks for keeping her company today.” Yoongi let Jimin hug him, his bad arm held tightly to his side so Jimin couldn’t accidentally bump it. “I’m sorry I couldn’t hang out with you guys.”
“We had fun!” Hobi said, the pack of Uno cards in his hands. “We’ll have to have game night more often.”
You nodded. “That would be amazing. We’ll have to find more ways to rig the games against JK.”
“I knew it!” Jungkook groaned, stalking back into the living room to hug you goodbye. “You guys cheated.”
“Well, if you didn’t take so long getting a snack on turn three…” Jimin retorted, his arms crossed in front of him.
You nodded in agreement, patting Jungkook’s cheek lightly. “Technically this is your fault.” He groaned, but you could see the giggle just under the surface.
Gently, Yoongi tugged on your hand, and you squeezed his fingers gently in acknowledgement. He was ready to leave. You called out one last goodbye before forcing yourself away from the boys. You knew they would keep you there all night if you let them, standing and talking in the entryway. Yoongi held your hand tightly as you made your way to the car, his eyes slightly downcast. You found yourself immensely grateful that Bang Si-Hyuk paid for the most convenient parking in the complex for the group and their guests.
“How’s your shoulder?” you asked softly, breaking away from him so you could get in the car.
“It has definitely felt better.” You heard him sigh and risked a glance at him as you pulled away from the dorm. He had his head leaned back against his headrest, his left arm tucked as closely to his body as he could get it, his arm in the loose sling resting tensely against his thigh. He held his phone in his other hand, spinning it between his thumb and forefinger.
You reached over, carefully taking his hand in your own. “I got a new bottle of Ibuprofen when I stopped at the store last week. You can crack that sucker open when we get home and go full Tony Montana on it if you want.” You flashed him a smile as you came to a stop at the red light.
He chuckled lightly and hummed. “Home?” His tone was light, but you could hear the uncertainty in it.
“My home,” you corrected softly. “Doesn’t have to be yours if you don’t want it to be.”
“I never said I didn’t.” Yoongi squeezed your hand. “It was weird just visiting the dorms like that.”
“Yeah? Good weird or bad weird?”
He hummed. “Good weird. But definitely weird.” He was quiet as he stared out the window, rubbing circles into the meaty part of your thumb. “We always thought Namjoon would be the first to leave.” His voice was quiet, thoughtful. “Or Jin.”
“Not you?”
“Eventually, maybe.” He offered a small shrug. “They all thought I’d be too busy or something.”
The rest of the drive passed in silence. It was a little uncomfortable at first, as you weren’t quite sure how to respond to Yoongi’s confession. But then the song changed, and he squeezed your hand, and the tension melted away.
When you walked into your apartment, you started laughing. Your entry and hall were so covered in balloons that you couldn’t see the floor. “Yoon, what the fuck?” Once your shoes were off, you walked back the hallway, kicking at the balloons with your socked feet, sending two or three into the air with each step.
You could hear Yoongi chuckle as he followed you to the bathroom, carefully slipping off his sling as he went. “Happy birthday, jagi,” he said softly, accepting the bottle of Ibuprofen you handed him.
“What the fuck?” you repeated. You pulled him into a tight hug as soon as he took the pain killers. “How the fuck?”
“Namjoon helped,” he said shyly.
“Is this why your meeting was four hours long?”
“Maybe.”
“Oh my god, you’re such a honey boy!”
You kissed him then, smiling against his lips. One of his arms wrapped snugly around your waist, pulling you to him. You felt him wince as he moved his bad arm, and his hand settled on your hip, his thumb slipping up under your shirt to ghost against the bit of skin just above the waistband of your jeans. After a moment, you pulled away slightly and touched your forehead to his.
“You’re ridiculous,” you whispered finally, a smile still plastered on your face. “I love you so much, but you’re ridiculous.”
“Honestly, if I knew 232 balloons would make you this happy, I would have bought more.” He laughed, brushing your hair back and tucking it behind your ear. “Happy birthday. I’m sorry we couldn’t do more.”
“This is perfect.” You kissed him again softly before quickly pulling away. “Oh! I almost forgot.” Yoongi looked at you quizzically as you shoved your hand into your pocket. “I made you something. Hold out your hand and close your eyes.”
He did as he was told, but you could see the confusion on his face. “It’s your birthday. Shouldn’t I be giving you presents?”
“Yes, and don’t think I haven’t forgotten about that,” you joked, pushing the embroidery floss onto his wrist and tightening the knot. “But Hobi and Jimin and I got crafty today, and I wanted to share my spoils.” You squeezed his hand. “You can open your eyes now.”
Immediately, his eyes went to the bracelet, black and white chevron with a little dangly cat charm and a tiny ‘MYG’ in beads near the sliding knot. He twisted it around his wrist so that he could look at the whole thing. “You made this?”
You shrugged. “You wear so many tiny little bracelets. I thought maybe you’d like another. Do you like it?”
Yoongi smiled, pulling your head close and placing a lingering kiss to your temple. “I’m never taking it off,” he mumbled into your hair.
For the rest of the night, when you’d walk back the hallway, you would giggle and kick at the balloons. The soft ‘thunk’s that would accompany you walking anywhere in your apartment would put a wide, gummy smile on Yoongi’s face, which only grew when you would come into view.
With a little help, he made dinner, sautéing shrimp and grilling steaks like a pro. For the most part, he insisted on not needing your help since you had cooked for him almost daily since his surgery, only letting you hand-grind the salt and pepper to season the steaks and hand him things that he couldn’t find in your kitchen or that were a little too heavy for him yet. Eventually, though, he kicked you out of the kitchen, and you sat in the dining room patiently, pouring a glass of wine for the both of you.
You sighed and made yourself more comfortable at your small dining room table. The day had gone by so quickly, and while you were a little disappointed by the start of it, the ending was turning out to be more than you could hope for. You almost didn’t care that your family had neglected to call or text you. You had spent time with some of your closest friends, and so far, you were having an enjoyable–if not a little over the top, thanks to the balloons–evening with the man you loved most in the world. All in all, a pretty great birthday.
After a few moments, Yoongi joined you at the table, setting a plate of steak and creamy garlic shrimp down in front of you. It smelled delicious, and you told him as much as he sat down across from you at the little table. He offered you a shy, gummy smile in return. As you ate, he told you about his meeting with Bang Si-Hyuk, and how, as long as his physical therapist approved it and it didn’t cause him pain, Yoongi could potentially start performing again by mid-January.
“Obviously, there’s some choreography I won’t be able to do because it’s too complicated, but he said that they might be willing to rework some of it, depending on what stages we do at performances.” He sounded so excited as he shoved another piece of steak in his mouth. “I don’t want to get too excited because mid-January is still so far away and I still have a lot of pain, but I think if I have to sit at home and watch one more awards show on TV, I’m going to go insane.”
“That’s amazing, Yoon. Do you know yet if they’ll be performing at the Grammys?”
He shook his head. “They haven’t announced anything yet, and if Si-Hyuk-hyung knows, he hasn’t said anything.”
“I mean, if they do, they’ll probably do ‘Dynamite,’ right? Or ‘Life Goes On?’” You shrugged. “I’m not your PT, but I feel like you could absolutely do the choreo for ‘Dynamite.’”
“That’s what I was thinking!” He flashed you a wicked grin before going back to his meal.
You gave it a second before speaking again. “So… not to sound like a child, but uh…” You took a sip of your wine. “Presents when?”
Yoongi stared at you, mouth half-full of shrimp, and blinked slowly. He swallowed before tilting his head to the side. “The balloons…?” He pointed at the hallway with his knife.
“Oh! Cool!” You nodded, stabbing at a piece of steak. “I love it.”
He nodded. “I’m glad!” He fell silent, then, and stared at you for a minute. He took another bite, his eyes never leaving your face. “I’m joking. I already did the dishes specifically so we could spend the rest of the night uninterrupted.”
“You, Min Yoongi, are my favorite.”
When you finished eating, he ushered you back into the living room as he cleaned up your plates. You heard him laugh at the ‘thunk thunk thunk’ of the balloons as you walked from the dining room to the living room. After a few moments, you heard him kicking the balloons as he walked back to his office (formerly known as your office), and then kicking the balloons as he returned to the living room.
You turned to look at him as he entered the room, and immediately, your face fell. He was carrying a large box that looked far too reminiscent of your Christmas present.
“Yoongi…” you warned, glaring at the unwrapped box.
For a moment, he looked confused. Then, he laughed, his shoulders shaking as he sat the box down in your lap. “No, it’s not. I promise.” He sat down cross-legged on the couch facing you and motioned for you to open the box.
You watched him skeptically, but opened the flaps anyway. Inside was a pillow. When you pulled it out, you immediately started laughing. It was a body pillow. One side was plain black, but the other, oh the other was glorious. Yoongi’s face from the Spring Day era stared back at you, his dark hair perfectly mussed, a brooding expression on his lips.
“You trying to tell me something here, Yoon?” you questioned, hugging the pillow to your chest. He said nothing, simply pointing to the box. You looked down and laughed harder. All seven members stared up at you from the bottom of the box. You pulled out the second pillowcase and held it up to inspect it.
“Flip it,” Yoongi instructed, and you could hear the humor in his voice. So, of course, you flipped it over.
Your eyes immediately fell on pillow-Yoongi’s face. “Oh my god, where did you find this?” The picture on the fabric was from the Idol era, complete with the yellow, black, and grey chevron blazer. But what really drew your attention was the huge printing error that caused his eyes to cross. “Look at him! Poor guy.” You traced the curve of pillow-Yoongi’s nose with your index finger.
“I wanted to get you something for when I go back on tour again,” Yoongi said, staring at the pillowcase in your hands.
“Just in case I need to sleep at some point in six months. So I can cuddle pillow-Yoongi.”
“Right.” He nodded. “But I didn’t know which one was going to be better. So I got the one custom-made.” He gestured to the proper pillowcase, the one without the printing error.
“And the other is…”
“I honestly don’t know. It was one of those wholesale k-pop sites.”
You cackled. “Oh my god, you bought him from a knock-off merchant?” He nodded. “He’s cute.” You inspected the misprinted fabric again before making eye contact with Yoongi. “You’re cute.”
He smiled shyly and rubbed behind his ear with his index finger. “I can return that one, I think. I just thought it was funny.”
You scoffed, starting to take the custom case off the body pillow. “How dare you? Sure, he’s a little funny looking, but aren’t we all?” Once you had it off the pillow, you threw the pillowcase at Yoongi. “I’ve only had Yongi for three minutes, but I would go all Liam Neeson in Taken for him.”
Your boyfriend stared at you blankly. “Yongi?”
“Yes, his name is Yongi,” you said, faking exasperation as you pulled the fabric of the second case over the pillow. “Honestly, honey boy. Have some respect.”
He rolled his eyes and chuckled, scooting a little closer to you. “So you like it, then?”
After a moment, you smiled. “Of course I do.” You glanced down at the pillow, tracing over the picture’s crossed eyes and slightly too-wide nose. “Do you want to know what my favorite part about Yongi is?”
“The fact that his hair is practically orange?” Yoongi moved ever closer, his focus falling from your face to the pillowcase and then back. You shifted slightly so he could slot himself into the space beside you.
You hummed. “No, although you do look good in orange.” Yoongi laughed and reached for your hand. “No, my favorite part is that you want to keep me around until at least the next tour, even though we have no idea when that is. That’s a hell of a commitment, honey boy.”
He kissed your temple, squeezing your hand. “I want to keep you around for as long as you want to be here,” he mumbled into your hair.
“Careful, Yoongi,” you warned softly. “Keep talking like that and you might never get rid of me.”
He snuggled closer, his free hand coming to rest on the pillow in your lap, and said nothing. But you could feel the smile on his lips as he pressed another kiss into your hair. The silence that enveloped the two of you was comforting. He rubbed circles into your hand with his thumb, your eyes transfixed on the simple action that had come to mean more to you than words could describe.
You weren’t sure how long you sat there like that, with Yoongi settled into your side. It was quiet and dark, the tree in the corner of the living room no longer sparkling as it waited for you to get up the motivation to tear it down and put it back into storage. The only light came from the table lamp beside the couch, casting deep shadows across the room. It was cozy, it was comfortable, and most of all, it felt like home.