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A week after Jeongguk’s discharged from the military, Seokjin starts a thing—it’s small yet all-encompassing and it moves uncontrollably between the two of them, like two moths to a flame that’s destined to burn out.
It’s—
Jeongguk wants—
He isn’t sure what—
Seokjin starts touching him more. Jeongguk wishes he didn’t notice but he’s been painfully in love with Seokjin since he was twenty years old and he’s still painfully in love with him at twenty-seven.
So, Jeongguk lets him touch.
Jeongguk sees him again for the first time at the company party being held for his return. Seokjin looks good. Jeongguk feels good, already tipsy from the one glass of champagne he’s had.
“Look at you,” Seokjin says and that already is a lot for Jeongguk to hear after nearly three years. “I missed you. Wow, look at your hair… I can’t believe you enlisted before I got out—that wasn’t the plan—look at your arms, too. You could carry Namjoon and me at the same time with just one of them.” He laughs and it’s sad and Jeongguk wants another drink, but he wants to stay here forever. “It’s been years, how was it, Jeongguk? How are you? Why didn't you visit me on your break? It’s been so long; you weren’t supposed to leave so soon. I—"
“I missed you too, hyung.”
Seokjin has a way of dissipating all of Jeongguk’s nervous energy just by holding onto him. He does it a lot; he reaches out and pulls Jeongguk in and Jeongguk can’t help but follow the movement with bated breath, tucking himself into the corners of Seokjin’s collarbones.
Seokjin will laugh and Jeongguk wants to fold himself in such a way that the sound disappears into his ribs.
They’ve always been like this, ever since Jeongguk was just a kid who didn’t know better, but after years, Jeongguk figured he really should know better.
Lately, though, Jeongguk feels as if he’s evaporating.
“Come on, let’s get out of the way of everyone else, we’re just standing here and they’re probably gossiping about us, well, probably me—I am gorgeous tonight after all.” Seokjin laughs when he says it and his grip on Jeongguk’s arm as he pulls them to a corner of the room burns.
After years of finally settling into their career, Jeongguk realized he loved Kim Seokjin in that impossible and easy kind of way that people spent their lives searching for. Seokjin, asleep with his head on Jeongguk’s shoulder. Jeongguk, awake and unable to look away, feeling like every proper cliché in the world. Jeongguk’s grown up in a world of change but as he sat there, that heavy realization settling in his bones, he knew that this feeling never would.
“There’s something I want to say,” Jeongguk says, the words catching in his throat, and Seokjin looks at him and raises a perfect eyebrow and Jeongguk swallows his guilt back down and looks away.
Seokjin’s hand lingers more. On Jeongguk’s arm, on his waist, on his knee, his thigh, the nape of his neck, his lower back, his hair, his—
Seokjin lingers.
“What is it?”
“I’m going to fall asleep on you if you aren’t careful,” Jeongguk mumbles into Seokjin’s chest. Seokjin invited him over earlier in the morning and all day, he’s been touching Jeongguk. Jeongguk almost feels drunk on the feeling—on this thing that Seokjin’s started doing without any warning, as if it means something more than it does.
“You can fall asleep. I’m very comfortable.”
Jeongguk snorts but doesn’t disagree. Seokjin is incredibly comfortable, as he always is and always will be, but Jeongguk wants to ask him so many impossible questions that he knows he shouldn’t be here at all, especially not wrapped up in Seokjin’s arms.
“You just said you’d fall asleep, but I can hear you thinking.”
“Are you able to hear my thoughts better because there are none in your head?”
“Rude!” Seokjin gasps, laughing softly. “All that time in the military and still no respect for your elders.”
“Never thought I’d hear you admitting how old you are.”
“I’ve found that it’s even more impressive to be as handsome as I am at this age.”
Jeongguk can’t help his smile at that and he knows Seokjin feels it and Jeongguk wants to say something, just as he’s wanted to for years and especially since that night, but he doesn’t.
He doesn’t say anything.
Seokjin’s hand is on Jeongguk’s shoulder now. Jeongguk isn’t entirely sure why, but it feels slightly scandalous all the same. Jeongguk could lean in closer, press in even further, Seokjin’s hand could fall to his waist, could fall even lower, and Jeongguk would fit himself into the crevices of Seokjin’s body and tell him—
“I… I can’t say it.”
“That’s okay, honey.”
Jeongguk smiles—it’s helpless and verging on pathetic, but he hasn’t heard Seokjin call him that in years and it aches.
“How do you know? What if I wanted to say something awful?”
Seokjin shakes his head. “It’s okay, whatever it is. Don’t worry about what I’ll think.” He pauses and moves his hand up so it’s resting on his cheek. “Fuck. I missed you, Jeongguk. It wasn’t the same without you here.”
“Yeah,” Jeongguk breathes out, wanting so badly to turn his face so he’s kissing Seokjin’s palm. “It wasn’t the same at all.”
Seokjin’s hand is on Jeongguk’s upper left thigh and Jeongguk can’t pay attention to anything Yoongi is trying to say to him.
They’re all celebrating their comeback, wildly successful so far, but Seokjin’s hand has been resting on his thigh for nearly an hour now with no signs of moving. It’s possessive and territorial and Jeongguk wants to call Seokjin out on it because it’s been months now and Jeongguk doesn’t know if it’s just him wrapped up in this thing of theirs or if they’re in it together.
Seokjin moves his hand from his thigh down to his knee and Jeongguk smiles at Yoongi and makes a joke about how he’ll be dancing on stage at eighty years old.
Seokjin laughs at it and doesn’t take his hand off him for the rest of the night.
“We should go join everyone else. This party is for you after all.”
Jeongguk sighs. “I just want to go home already. I’m tired.”
Seokjin places both his hands on Jeongguk’s shoulders. He’s smiling in a wicked way; he looks like everything Jeongguk wants.
“We could just leave. Do you want to?”
The way Seokjin says it makes Jeongguk stop short. Teasing, yes, but there’s an undercurrent of suggestiveness to it that makes Jeongguk longing.
Jeongguk swallows. “Okay. Take me home.”
“Did you think it’d be the same? When we came back?”
Seokjin’s voice is quiet and Jeongguk is wrapped around Seokjin. They’re in Jeongguk’s bed and pretending it doesn’t mean anything; it’s easy.
“I don’t know. It still feels different, even if it’s the same.”
Seokjin doesn’t ask what he means by that.
Jeongguk isn’t used to being back home yet and when he hesitates in front of his door, he almost wants to turn and tell Seokjin that they should go to his place instead, but he knows if he turns, he’ll have to face rejection of any kind and he doesn’t want that either.
“What’s wrong?”
Jeongguk turns around anyway. Seokjin is right there. His hand is on Jeongguk’s arm.
“We don’t have to talk about it.”
Seokjin stares at him like it hurts to look at him.
“We can.”
Jeongguk shakes his head. He’s only just returned; he can’t lose Seokjin again. “We can,” he finally says, “but we don’t have to.”
Seokjin continues to look at him and then, finally, he’s doing what Jeongguk wanted to earlier. He leans in and Jeongguk’s nervous, but he wants it, he wants it, and Seokjin is still leaning in until he isn’t, until it’s just Jeongguk pressed against his door as Seokjin presses a kiss to Jeongguk’s neck as if it’s a promise.
“Oh, fuck—”
“I missed you,” Seokjin says against his skin, dragging his lips up while he does, and Jeongguk kisses him now, letting his hands grip furtively at Seokjin’s back.
“Hyung.”
Seokjin hums, opening Jeongguk’s mouth with his own. Jeongguk feels torn open.
Jeongguk feels—
Seokjin’s spending the day at Jeongguk’s again. This time, Jeongguk’s entire body is leaning against Seokjin as Seokjin yells at the TV screen for not being able to beat a boss.
Jeongguk is looking at him and he loves him. Every now and then, Seokjin reaches down and curls a finger in Jeongguk’s hair, and Jeongguk remembers what it was like being fifteen and looking up to Seokjin, who did the same thing back then. He remembers what it was like being twenty and realizing he loved him, he remembers what it was like being twenty-four and never wanting to leave him, he remembers what it was like being twenty-seven and getting him back for the first time in years.
“I love you.”
Seokjin stops yelling at the screen, his entire hand getting twisted up in Jeongguk’s hair. Jeongguk smiles because he knows what it means and when Seokjin finally looks at Jeongguk, Jeongguk smiles wider.
He feels almost breathless on the feeling, wild and manic and full of so much energy he doesn’t know what to do with it—it’s overwhelming and disastrous and Jeongguk loves Seokjin.
“I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.”
“I always have. Sorry.”
Seokjin laughs like it’s the funniest joke in the world, but he doesn’t let go of Jeongguk’s hair. Instead, he watches as Jeongguk leans up and he laughs again when Jeongguk kisses him.
“Things will get complicated,” Seokjin mutters into his mouth. Jeongguk deepens the kiss and crawls onto his lap; he doesn’t care.
“You love me, right, hyung?” Jeongguk replies, moving his lips so he’s kissing Seokjin’s neck instead. Seokjin doesn’t reply. “Honey?”
“I love you.”
Jeongguk smiles. “See? We don’t really need to talk about it after all.”
Seokjin doesn’t let go of him for hours after that.
“H-hyung,” Jeongguk mumbles and Seokjin lets him move his hands everywhere and anywhere. “Seokjin—”
Seokjin catches Jeongguk’s bottom lip between his own and Jeongguk wants to say everywhere he’s wanted to say for years, but Seokjin is barely letting him get a word out.
“We can still talk about it. This thing. If you want to,” Seokjin suddenly says, pulling back and away, not at all what Jeongguk wants right now.
Jeongguk wants to say they can, but he wants Seokjin to stay as well, and he’s afraid it’ll be too complicated afterwards if they do.
“We don’t have to,” Jeongguk breathes, moving his body down so he’s completely covered by Seokjin’s body. He doesn’t want to think about any of it anymore. He’s been thinking about it for years. “Just kiss me, hyung. Please. Please just touch me. I want you to touch me.”
Seokjin touches him and Jeongguk thinks he’ll burn from the inside out if he continues but he knows it’ll be worse if he stops.
“Don’t stop, hyung. Don’t ever stop touching me.”
Seokjin presses a kiss to his cheek and then another behind his ear.
“I won’t,” he murmurs. “I won’t stop touching you for as long as you let me. Even if you never want to talk about this again. I promise.”
So, Jeongguk lets him touch.