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The last time Yoongi chucked his phone, he nearly took his best friend’s head off. That being said, he now grips onto it so tight he’s sure his knuckles turn white. That’s an incident he’d rather not repeat.
“Stay calm, Yoongi,” he mutters to himself. “Calm, calm, calm.”
Yoongi tries to take a deep breath in but he’s not really sure he’s accomplished the task. The tiny voice on the other end of the call repeats the very words he prayed he’d misheard only seconds earlier, and as he allows himself to process them, his nostrils flare.
“What do you mean out of stock? I just checked with you this morning,” Yoongi says, face growing hot.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the girl squeaks, “I—“
“Yeah, you can shovethat sorry right up your sorry ass—“
“Yoongi,” a voice behind him hisses, prompting him to spin around.
Seokjin stares at him with that look, the one he knows he can’t stand, and Yoongi bites his lip, looking down.
“I’m sorry,” Yoongi says, quickly. “I’m sure it’s not your fault, I just—I need those flowers. Please double check. Please.”
“I’m truly sorry, sir,” the girl repeats, “but there really aren’t any—“
And before she can finish the devastating sentence yet again, Yoongi hangs up, tossing his phone on the couch.
“Fuck,” Yoongi says, barely resisting the urge to just kick something. “I told you we should’ve ordered them ahead of time but you said it’d be fine.”
“I thought it would be, Yoongi,” Jin says, voice apologetic, yet irritatingly calm. “I hadn’t even heard of those flowers before you first mentioned them.”
“Yeah, well that’s because you’re a fucking idiot,” Yoongi says, dropping next to his phone. His foot bounces off the ground, mind scrambling to think of what the hell he’s going to do now.
It isn’t until he feels the couch dip deeper that his brain catches up to his mouth, and his face falls.
“I’m sorry, hyung,” Yoongi whispers, and the gentle hand on his back lets him know it’s okay. He’s gotten used to something he doesn’t deserve.
“It’ll be fine,” Jimin says, popping his head in from the kitchen. “Just get him some roses. He’ll appreciate them just the same.”
“They have to be the red salvias,” Yoongi says, fingers digging into his sides.
“Joon just left and you’re already stressing yourself out, Yoongi,” Hoseok says from his place across the room.
No, Joonie just left and he was already fucking things up. This is the first birthday they’re celebrating with each other after moving in together, and after everything Namjoon has done for him, after all these years of staying patient with him, putting up with him, and most difficult of all, loving him, for once Yoongi just wants to do something good in return.
He only wants to make him happy, and he can’t even do that.
“Here,” Hoseok says, walking towards the front door. “How about I drive around to see if there are any other shops that have your salvations—“
“Salvias!” Jimin sings.
“—Salvias,” Hoseok continues with a nod, ”and if I can find any then I’ll buy the entire store and bring them back?”
Before Yoongi can either protest or muster up a thank you, Hoseok grabs his coat and is out the door. Before it completely closes, though, two more heads pop in.
“Hey, sorry we’re late,” Taehyung says, hands full of groceries.
Jeongguk bounds in after him, closing the door. “Why did Hobi just trip trying to book it to his car?”
“He’s going to find some flowers for Yoongi,” Jin answers in Yoongi’s stead.
“Aw, the salvias didn’t work out?” Gguk asks, sitting himself next to Yoongi.
“They were out of stock,” Jin says, shaking his head. He scoots over so Yoongi can make more room.
“He’s probably just eager to see that guy who works in the shop across town,” Taehyung says, setting the bags next to the couch.
“Ah, the—“
“Devilishly handsome flower boy who stares him down every time,” Taehyung and Jeongguk say together, grinning.
“Yup, that’s the one,” Taehyung says.
He stares down at the lack of vacant spots on the couch, and when Jeongguk pats his lap, Taehyung takes a seat, leaning back when arms wrap around his waist.
“So while we wait for the flowers, what else is on the agenda for today?” Gguk questions.
“What time does Namjoonie get back?” Taehyung asks.
“Well, he just left,” Yoongi says, “and he’s just going into the office for a few hours today. At least until three, he said.”
“Alright, then we have a little over four hours to get everything together.” Jin claps a hand on Yoongi’s back before standing up, stretching, and grabbing one of the bags on the ground. “You wanna start on the cake now or wait until later so it’s warmer when he gets home?”
“Let’s do it now, just in case. Besides,” Yoongi says, his face scrunching up. “Joon likes shit better reheated in the microwave.”
“He’s always been off,” Gguk laughs, and Yoongi can’t help but smile, because it’s true.
There is not one thing about Kim Namjoon that’s normal, but Yoongi doesn’t think they’d have made it this far if it weren’t for that fact.
“Yeah,” he says, standing up. “He’s a strange one.”
So very, perfectly strange.
“Do you want some help, Yoonie?” Taehyung asks, but Yoongi shakes his head, grabbing the other bag.
“It’s alright,” he says. “This is something I want to do on my own.”
“Good luck, soldier!” Gguk salutes and Taehyung follows in suit before turning his body, giggling into Jeongguk’s chest.
As Yoongi follows Jin into his kitchen, Jimin bounces past them and onto the couch, joining in on the cuddle party.
“I’ll at least get started on the other food so you’re not too stressed out,” Jin says, pulling out what the boys had brought from the store.
“Wheat flour, eggs,” Yoongi mumbles to himself, rummaging through the other bag, “anchovies, shellfish…hyung, do you have the kelp and the scallions?”
“And the potatoes,” Jin says, holding up all three.
“Okay, and this is all you need right?”
“Yep. Don’t worry, I’ll work my magic and make this the best Kal-guksu your darling’s taste buds have ever connected with.”
“Thanks, hyung,” Yoongi says, his grip on the flour tightening. “And about this morning,” he trails off.
Jin smiles, shaking his head. “It’s a stressful day for you, I get it. Besides, I think I know the difference between you being an asshole and you not being okay. It’s alright, Yoongi. I mean it.”
Yoongi just nods, ending the conversation right then and there. The thought of the attention being shifted to him in such a way makes his skin crawl for reasons that only need to make sense to him, though even then, sometimes they don’t.
Still, his friends understand just enough to know when to drop a topic, and though he can’t remember if he’s ever vocalized the thought, Yoongi will forever be grateful to each and every one of them for trying so hard to comprehend whatever it is that goes through his head.
“Alright,” Yoongi mumbles aloud, mostly to himself. “Let’s start this cake.”
Yoongi pulls out the piece of paper he’d tucked ever so neatly into the front of his shirt’s pocket and unfolds it, reading over the recipe he’d printed out two days ago.
‘Namjoonie’s Super Special Super Perfect Pumpkin Birthday Cake’ is scribbled on the top in pen, and right underneath were the ingredients he needed.
“Eggs,” he says, peeking over at the open carton on the counter. “Check.”
Sugar? Check.
Vegetable oil? Check.
Pumpkin in a can?
Yoongi hums and walks past Jin, who busies himself with thoroughly washing the vegetables (“because the last thing I need,” he reminded them almost every time they helped him cook, “is for one of you to get sick over anything I’m making for you. Always wash your fruits, and always wash your vegetables! Do it for five minutes straight if you so much as think you see anything suspicious on them. Do you know how many people have probably touched the very apple you’re eating right now? Huh? Do you? Do you know how dirty the human hands are? Studies show that—).
Yoongi shudders at the speech that rolls so clearly through his mind whenever he sees food under running water. He pushes the unwelcome words out of his head and goes through the rest of the bags until he finds the pumpkin.
Check.
Smiling, Yoongi bounds back to his station, slowly checking off the rest of the items on the recipe.
Flour? Check.
Salt? Check.
Baking powder? Check.
Baking soda?
…baking soda? Yoongi puts the list down, eyes roaming over the ingredients, baking soda nowhere to be found. Did he forget to take it out?
He walks over to the cabinet of ingredients, opening it up and glancing inside. When he doesn’t see what he needs, Yoongi’s eyes widen. He pushes away what he doesn’t need, soon tossing out bottle after bottle until the cabinet is nearly empty, and still, there’s no baking soda.
“Yoongi,” a voice says, but it’s quickly tuned out. He needs to find the baking soda. He needs it.
Yoongi moves on to the next cabinet, then the next, then the next until the floor is covered with shit he doesn’t need. Where the hell is it? Does he really not have any? He had all the time in the world to prepare for this day, and he didn’t check to see if he had everything he needed?
Typical, Min Yoongi. Great fucking job.
“Yoongi!”
Hands grip Yoongi’s shoulders until, instead of seeing nothing but little thought bubbles reminding him of how hopeless he is, he’s seeing Jin.
“Yoongi, what are you looking for?” Jin asked, concern laced in his voice. “What do you need?”
Yoongi looks down, blinking back tears he refuses to let fall. “There’s no,” he stops and coughs when his voice cracks. “There’s no baking soda.”
At this, Jin smiles. “Well, lucky for you, I’m a cooking expert. Meaning I know how to make things out of nothing.”
When Jin moves away, Yoongi sniffles as he curiously watches his friend grab the baking powder. He shakes it, grinning from ear to ear. “All you gotta do is use a 1:3 ratio with the baking powder. How much soda does the recipe call for?”
Yoongi shuffles over, glancing at his sheet. “One teaspoon.”
“Alright,” Jin says, nodding. Then you’ll put three extra teaspoons of baking powder into the cake, and it’ll taste just the same. You’re doing great, Yoon.”
Yoongi feels himself sigh out, relieved. He’s so glad he has his level-headed friends here to help him out.
With his panicking out of the way, Yoongi makes sure the other ingredients are accounted for and gets started on the cake. With Jin right behind him, he’s positive he dumps the ingredients in just right, whisks it all to perfection, and before he knows it, puts the cake into the oven, right where it needs to be.
Initiating a high five, Yoongi’s hands slap against Jin’s and for the first time today, he feels good. Joon would be getting a nice cake, made by Yoongi himself, and just the thought of being praised while Namjoon flashes his happiest smile at him makes Yoongi giddy.
“I’ll finish up in here,” Jin says, shooing Yoongi out. “You go find something else to take care of.”
Already tired of being in the kitchen, Yoongi thinks that’s a great idea, so he heads back out to the living room, the three boys left on the couch popping their heads up.
“Do you need help with anything, Yoongi?” Jimin asks.
Yoongi hums, pulling out the mental list of things he had planned to prepare for today, and checks off the cake. After angrily scribbling out flowers, only two more things remain: call parents and decorate living room.
“Actually, yeah,” Yoongi says, scanning the living room. “I bought a bunch of decorations, so if you three could help me put them up, that would be amazing. I hid the bags behind the wardrobe in our room, could you get them? I’m gonna call Joonie’s parents and make sure they remember how to get here.”
“Roger that!” Jeongguk says, grabbing Taehyung and Jimin and dragging them out of the room.
Yoongi pulls out his phone, scrolling through his contacts and clicking on “Mother 1.0”, body vibrating as it rings. Joonie hasn’t seen his parents in much too long since moving out, and with the way he’s always smiling at the photos of them he’s hung up, Yoongi knows that this surprise will beat the cake by a long shot.
“Hello?” Namjoon’s mother says when the phone clicks.
“Hi, Mrs. Kim!” Yoongi says. Any nerves he’d been feeling throughout the day dissipate immediately. The Kims just seem to have that effect on people. “I just wanted to call to make sure you remember how to get here? I’m so excited to see you two again and I know Joonie’ll be even more--”
“Oh, Yoongi, sweetheart. We can’t come anymore,” she says, and Yoongi feels his heart crack.
“You can’t come?” he repeats.
“I’m sorry, angel,” she says, and Yoongi hears it in her voice, “but I was just about to call to tell you. Monie woke up sick this morning and you know how old he’s getting. We’d just feel so uncomfortable leaving him here without taking him to a vet.”
Yoongi feels the back of his eyes burn as yet another one of his plans bursts into flames. Though this was a present for Namjoon, Yoongi was just as excited to see the only parents he considers his own.
“It’s okay,” Yoongi says quietly. “I understand. I’d hate it if anything happened to the little guy.”
“I’m so sorry, baby. As much as we want to see our favorite sons,” Yoongi smiles a bit when she says this, “we really can’t leave Monie here.”
Yoongi thanks Mrs. Kim anyway before hanging up, gripping tightly onto his arms. It was fine, everything would be fine. That’s what Namjoon always says, so he has to believe it.
He checks the time as the boys pile back into the living room, arms full of decorations. 12:36pm. An hour and a half gone by, and Yoongi’s accomplished almost nothing.
“Is everything okay, Yoongi?” Jin asks, walking out the kitchen.
“Joon’s parents can’t make it,” he says, shrugging. “That’s all.”
“That’s okay,” Jin says with a smile. “There’s always next time!”
He’s right, of course. But he wanted them to be here today . For Namjoon’s birthday today . A day where things were supposed to be fun and happy and perfect. A day where, instead, everything is going wrong.
“Why don’t you four put up the decorations?” Jin says, walking towards the door. “I don’t know what the hell Hoseok’s doing but I’m stepping out for an hour or two. Hopefully he’ll be here with the flowers by then. Then we wait, and bam, the best surprise party Joon’s ever had.”
“Only surprise party he’s ever had,” Yoongi mutters. “Not like it’ll be much competition.”
“You’re doing great, Yoongi,” Jin says for the millionth time today, shaking his head. “The Kal-guksu is fine but the cake is still in the oven so don't forget to take it out!” Then the door opens and shuts, and he’s gone.
Yoongi looks over at the other three boys who sit next to all the decorations, staring up at him like wide-eyed puppies. This is clearly their medium and all they need is permission to start their masterpiece.
“Go ahead,” Yoongi waves, sitting on the couch, and they’re off.
Bags of balloons, large and small, get tossed across the living room, one nearly smacking Yoongi in the face. Streamers, confetti, banners, and much, much more (dear God please help him) scatter across the floor as the boys think of what to do first.
“Clearly we need to put the banner up first,” Taehyung says, but a balloon that’s already been blown up hits his head.
“Actually,” Jimin says, working on another one, “the balloons will take the most time so we should do those first.”
“That makes absolutely no sense,” Taehyung says. “You just wanna blow up balloons.”
“And what about it?”
Yoongi rolls his eyes, patting the spot next to him. “I’ll do them with you, Jimin,” he says. “Tae and Gguk can figure the rest out.”
Jimin nods, quickly taking a seat next to Yoongi, and for the next couple hours they get a surprising amount of work done, even with the amount of balloons tossed around the room and the very intense mummy wrapping competition that Yoongi was somehow pulled into.
Jeongguk and Jimin stand next to each other, arms pinned at their sides by streamers wrapped around them from head to toe. As they try to bump into each other hard enough for the other to be knocked down, Yoongi and Taehyung stand back, admiring their work.
“I think we can call this a tie,” Yoongi says, holding up his hand.
Taehyung slaps it, grin on his face, before turning back to their mummies and whistling. “You look good in streamers, Ggukie.”
Jeongguk’s face flushes pink and Jimin sticks out his tongue.
“You don’t look half bad either, Jimin,” Taehyung teases.
Jimin and Gguk give each other a look before, without a word, hopping forward and knocking Taehyung to the ground. They both start to cheer but the second Taehyung goes down, he grabs their ankles and brings them down with him.
As the room fills with joyous laughter, Yoongi’s quick to realize that his voice is one among the sound, and he smiles. For the first time today he doesn’t feel like absolute shit, and he has his friends to thank for it.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY NAMJOONIE” reads off a giant banner that hangs from the ceiling, halfway to the ground and facing the door. Confetti covers every inch of the floor, and streamers hang off of every object in sight. It’s almost as if children put this space together. And as three boys continue to wrestle on the ground, arguing over who looks the cutest in streamers, Yoongi thinks that maybe it’s true.
Looking around once more, the living room is quite beautiful. Not beautiful in a “fanciest-birthday-party-of-the-year” kind of way, but beautiful in a “it’s-clear-your-friends-put-this-together-with-love” kind of way, and Yoongi believes that maybe, just maybe, this party won’t be a total disaster after all.
Of course, only moments later, this hope comes crashing down. Jeongguk’s head suddenly pops out of the three-body ball, eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched up.
“What’s wrong?” Jimin asks, and he and Taehyung sit up as well.
“I’m not sure, I—do you guys smell that?” he asks.
Yoongi’s head tilts as his nostrils widen, searching for whatever scent Jeongguk’s talking about. It doesn’t take long for him to find it.
Yoongi hops up, eyes wide, because it smells like something burning and the only thing that can possibly be burning in this house is—
“No no no no no, please no,” he mumbles, making a b-line to the kitchen. “Please.”
Though it might not seem like it, Yoongi’s composure this entire day has been miraculously good, considering everything that’s happened. He had his moments, he always does, but he knows Namjoon would be proud of him for not breaking down completely.
That is, until now. Until his trembling fingers grip the oven’s handle. Until he only has to crack it open for smoke to infiltrate his body, for the smell to get worse by tenfold. Until he’s pulled away after not moving for who knows how many seconds, arms reaching past him and mittened fingers grasping what was supposed to be Namjoonie’s Super Special Super Perfect Pumpkin Birthday Cake. Until he sees nothing but charcoal black where there’s supposed to be cider orange.
It’s over. That’s all Yoongi can think as he pulls away from the cake he worked so hard on, the cake he forgot. The cake he let burn.
“No!” Yoongi’s screeches, fingers clutching into his frazzled hair. “No no!”
Yoongi pulls away from any hands that grab at him as his throat begins to burn. He doesn’t have time to think about how pathetic he looks when all he can think about is how pathetic he is . Can’t order flowers, can’t get everyone to show up, can’t get ingredients right, and when he’s given a second chance, can’t bake a fucking cake.
He’s useless.
Yoongi’s vision blurs as he heads towards his room to lock himself away for the rest of his life because who is he to celebrate his boyfriend’s birthday when he’s done nothing to contribute? Hoseok’s getting the flowers, Jin’s cooking the food, Tae, Gguk, and Jimin decorated the living room. What did he do besides inflate a couple balloons and fuck everything else up? Absolutely nothing.
But before Yoongi even makes it past the couch, he trips on a balloon and lands on the ground. The sob that makes its way out of his throat hurts just as much as the way his eyes sting from the constant flow of tears.
“What the hell is going on?” a voice says.
Yoongi finally looks up to see that Jin is back, and when his eyes land on Yoongi huddled against the couch, his eyes soften.
“Oh, Yoongi,” he breathes out, rushing over. He kneels down next to Yoongi who looks away, and pulls his hands away from his eyes. “You’re okay, Yoon, I know you are. It’s okay.”
Though Yoongi hears Jin’s comforting words, they go right through him.
But when Jin says, “I think Namjoon would be heartbroken if he knew how much you were beating yourself up over something you chose to do for him,” Yoongi looks back up.
He knows he’s already caused Namjoon so much trouble. He doesn’t want to break his heart too.
“No one’s making you do this,” Jin continues. ”You’re just kind enough to. Because you love him that much.”
Jin nods when he sees Yoongi start to calm down, slowly taking deep breaths in and out while urging Yoongi to do the same. Once Yoongi feels like he’s back, he glances over at the three wide-eyed men staring at him from the kitchen. With a small smile, he slightly raises his hand while they sigh, relieved.
“We can call this quits right now,” Jin says, bringing Yoongi’s attention back to him. “Namjoon never knew about this, and he never has to. If it’s too much then we can try again next year.”
Jin’s frown deepens so much that Yoongi has to look away. He looks disappointed. Yoongi’s disappointed in himself.
Shaking his head, Yoongi pushes himself off the ground and wraps his arms around himself.
“I have to do this,” he says. “Namjoon and I have been together for three years now and it’s always been take take take on my end. For once, I just—“
Angrily, Yoongi wipes at the few stray tears that threaten to escape his already-swollen eyes. “For once I just wanted to do something for him .”
“Yoongi,” Jin sighs, standing himself up as well. He doesn’t look disappointed anymore, just…sad. “You really have no idea how much Namjoon appreciates you, do you?”
When Yoongi first got into college he considered it a miracle. Since the moment he knew how to walk, he was on his own. His parents never wanted a child in the first place, they made sure to remind him of that often, and as time went on it became easy to believe that everyone else felt that way about him too. He started feeling that way about himself.
Things only got worse when, after he started high school, they declared there was something wrong with him that needed to be fixed; the sooner the better. He was always so angry, they said, so angry and insufferable.
Yoongi had tried to tell them over and over again that it wasn’t anger that made him lash out until his throat went dry. It was the constant, unbearable ripples of anxiety he felt when things didn’t go as planned. The anxiety he felt when too much was happening at once. The anxiety he felt from simply living day to day life.
It was pathetic, he was told, and he would never amount to anything because of it. But when he made it into college, though he had no thought-out plans for the future, he proved his parents wrong. He thought things would get “fixed” once he was free from their cruel words, but the anxiety never went away. The anger never went away. He was stuck.
But then, Yoongi met Namjoon during his second year at school. They were in the same gen ed class and one day, after weeks of sitting alone, Namjoon started sitting next to him. He had taken interest in the pretty, mysterious man who sat at the back of class, never once raising his hand, Yoongi learned later. And as much as Yoongi grunted or glared or switched seats, Namjoon was always right behind him like a puppy.
Yoongi let it go eventually. After more weeks of turning down lunch invitations and even giving out his phone number, Yoongi gave in and agreed to hang out with him. It turned out that the one puppy came with five more, and Yoongi’s life went from going hours on end with mental exhaustion, his mind constantly filled with disgusting and degrading words, to being able to wake up to a semi-silent mind, somewhat excited to see his new friends.
At some point, throughout the next few months of hanging around the guys, Namjoon started asking Yoongi out. At first, Yoongi sputtered in his face, telling him not to joke around like that. But then Namjoon asked him out again (“yoongi, won’t you be the cherry to my blossom?”) and again (“the guardian to my angel?”) and again (“the piña to my colada?”), becoming more desperate yet determined each time as their friends cheered him on in the background. And Yoongi went from annoyed to flustered as he rejected him time and time again.
Until the day he didn’t. He’d come to terms long ago that he was just as enthralled with Namjoon as he was with him, but he was scared. Namjoon quickly became Yoongi’s most important person, and the last thing he wanted to do was tie someone as great as him to someone as, well, Yoongi as Yoongi.
But after finally mustering up the courage to tell Namjoon how he really felt, how he didn’t want to hold him back, Yoongi got a slap to the face. With words, anyway.
“What’s the other reason?” Namjoon had deadpanned, to which Yoongi just blubbered out a shocked “huh?”
“If your only reason for saying no to me is because you don’t want me to like you,” Namjoon continued, “then you might as well just say yes. I’ve been turned down for stupid reasons before, but this one, by far, has got to be the dumbest.”
Namjoon shook his head, cracking a smile at what has to be a dumbfounded expression plastered onto Yoongi’s face.
“Yoongi,” Namjoon said, stepping closer, “don’t put me on some pedestal. I’m just an amazing guy—“ Namjoon grinned when Yoong snorted “—who happens to like someone just as amazing. It’s as simple as that. So give us a chance, please?”
Yoongi did. And throughout the next couple years as they went through their inevitable ups and downs, it was quickly deemed the best decision of Yoongi’s life.
The day they both graduated, right before Namjoon asked Yoongi to move in together, Namjoon disappeared for a few minutes, only to come back with a bouquet of the most beautiful flowers Yoongi had ever seen.
“These are gorgeous, Joonie,” Yoongi breathed. “What are they?”
“They’re red salvias,” Namjoon beamed. “Wanna take a guess at what they mean?”
Shaking his head, Yoongi looked up at Namjoon and his breath caught, because for the first time, he noticed. He noticed the fond expression their friends would always tease Namjoon about, the twinkle in his eyes, the hearts that enveloped them. The expression meant just for Yoongi.
“They mean, ‘forever mine.’”
By the time Jin gets everything else together, Namjoon’s only thirty minutes away. That’s not enough time to get another cake in the oven, and it’s certainly not enough time to fix this disaster of a surprise party.
“It’s okay, Yoongi,” Jimin says after a long bout of silence. Tae and Jeongguk nod in agreement, offering up hopeful smiles. “We all know that Joon would never be disappointed over that fact that you tried.”
“He’s right, Yoongi. You should have more faith in your boyfriend!” Taehyung says.
“We all see the way he looks at you whenever we’re all together,” Jeongguk says. ”I think you’re the only one who doesn’t.”
Yoongi doesn’t reply, instead, staring at the door as the timer in head counts down.
“Hey,” Jin tries again when the timer gets to five, “this won’t be much of a surprise party if we don’t yell surprise, right?”
Yoongi ponders this for a little while before nodding. He allows Jin to pull him up, and they all stand, staring at the door, waiting for it to open.
And when it does, when Namjoon walks through the door three minutes later with the brightest smile on his face, they all shout, “Surprise!”
Yoongi doesn't realize how tense his body is until he feels it relax upon seeing Namjoon’s big smile grow wider as he takes in the ambushed living room full of his best friends. The rest of the guys pat Namjoon’s back and he gives them his thanks, before his eyes lock over to Yoongi’s.
Yoongi doesn't know what it is, but the moment they make eye contact, his lips wobble and tears he didn’t know he had left in his body threaten to spill over. Making a surprised noise, Namjoon drops his work bag and takes long strides towards Yoongi. He sits down on the couch, quickly pulling Yoongi into his lap, who curls into his body.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Namjoon quietly asks, combing his fingers through his hair.
Yoongi grumbles and grabs Namjoon’s free hand, messing with his fingers as he retells the events of his awful day. Namjoon gasps whenever something goes wrong in Yoongi’s tale, then coos when he explains how upset it’s made him.
“But you still did your best, didn’t you?” Namjoon asks as soon as Yoongi’s done. “You know what? Don’t even answer that. I know you did, because you always do. And I am so,” Namjoon kisses the top of Yoongi’s head, “so,” his nose, “so,” his cheeks, “proud of you.”
Yoongi flushes, pushing Namjoon’s face away. He looks up just in time to see the door swing open. In walks Hoseok, arms full of red salvia bouquets, and Yoongi wants to cry once more because at least he’ll be able to give Namjoon one thing he originally wanted to.
Hoseok grins sheepishly as he gives the flowers to Yoongi, shirt buttoned wrong and hair unkempt. Yoongi, eyebrow raised, doesn’t question his newfound appearance, but the others sure do.
While Tae and Gguk interrogate Hoseok, and while Jin and Jimin tease, Yoongi holds out the flowers to Namjoon, who graciously takes them all.
“You got me red salvias,” Namjoon says, in awe.
And suddenly it’s back. That expression, the one that Yoongi adores. The one their friends tease Namjoon about to this day. The one Yoongi realizes never left.
“You remember what these mean, don’t you?” Yoongi asks.
Namjoon laughs, taking Yoongi’s breath away. “Forever mine, right?”
Today was nowhere near perfect. In Yoongi’s eyes, his days never are. But being in the presence of the one person who reminds him that no matter how bad his day, he would be okay, blows his want for perfection out of the water. Besides, who needs it when you have Kim Namjoon?
“Yeah,” Yoongi murmurs, pressing his face into Namjoon’s chest. “Forever yours.”