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Yoongi’s not good at pillow talk. Coincidentally, Taehyung was worse at it. Last time they hadn’t fallen straight to sleep after sex–Yoongi guesses Taehyung was either too sober or too drunk–he’d asked Yoongi where the words written in pencil go, once they were erased. He’d been so intent, so serious. And all Yoongi could think was that he should have taken another shot. Or ten. (The worse one to date was when Taehyung had started sniffling, upset about a torn poster of a bear, its leg torn away and he’d wailed think of the poor beautiful children with only one leg, hyung.)
Tonight was Valentine’s Day, not that it means anything special, since Min Yoongi didn’t need a holiday to keep love alive. Just that Taehyung whipped out melted chocolate and things got … sticky. Yoongi can still taste chocolate on his tongue. But he’s pretty sure there was not nearly enough alcohol in those spiked chocolates they’d eaten for him to survive more sober pillow talk with Taehyung.
“Hyung,”
Yoongi grunts.
“Hyeooooong,”
“What.”
“I…”
Taehyung bites his lip, worrying it in between his teeth. They’re swollen pink, a fact which Yoongi takes the time to appreciate. He leans down to replace Taehyung’s teeth with his own, nibbling on the poor abused thing, giving small licks to cool down Taehyung’s mewling. Yoongi’s dick gives a valiant twitch, but really, there was just no way– not after they just went for the third time of the night.
He pulls away, leaving Taehyung dazed and interrupted from what he was meaning to say. Since Yoongi wasn’t going to be able to chase sleep at this rate, he settled more comfortably while facing Taehyung, an arm on the other’s hip, thumb tracing circles on the jut of his hip.
“What were you trying to say, baby?” Yoongi whispers to the small space between their lips. It was better to get it out of the way quickly.
Taehyung’s eyes focuses on Yoongi’s, staring into them before bursting into tears. Alright, maybe it wasn’t going to be quick.
Yoongi shushes Taehyung and tucks his head into his neck, wrapping the other in his embrace and pulling him closer. Whatever Taehyung wanted to say must be very important to him.
“Hyung, I…”
Yoongi humms, letting Taehyung know that he’s listening.
“…I think… I’m pregnant, hyung.”
Yoongi stops his thumb’s circular motion on Taehyung’s hip. His whole form stiffens. Taehyung’s returned to biting his lips again.
“What.”
“Well you know last week? When we were talking about pencils and elephants? I… the condom broke in the middle but we continued anyway? I think, I think that’s when…you know.”
Yoongi is utterly baffled.
Taehyung sits up, gesturing with his arms wildly, “Then, after I came out to eat Sushi with Jimin earlier this week, I suddenly felt nauseous and I starred puking.”
Yoongi opens his mouth but Taehyung barrels on. “Then, then I felt dizzy while running the thread mill with Seokjin-hyung too! I fainted and Jungkook had to give me these pills that he said would help.”
Yoongi’s appalled that this was still going on but also, very morbidly interested on where this was going. He has his suspicions on what’s actually happening here.
“And then when I was out shopping for jeans, my usual size wouldn’t fit! Hoseok-hyung says my tummy might be getting bigger– And when I talked to Namjoon-hyung, he said that I might be pregnant! Hyung what do we do?”
Yoongi huffs, a smile tugging at his lips, one that he stifles with a peck to Taehyung’s brow. It doesn’t calm the other.
“I can’t have a baby! I don’t even know how to make a grilled cheese sandwich!”
A snort escapes Yoongi and really, he is trying to be completely serious here. Taehyung’s concerns, though more often times strange and misguided, were Yoongi’s own. So he huffs, muffles Taehyung’s offended whine with a peck to his pouting lips, and reassures the other that as long as the baby was his, Taehyung didn’t have to worry about taking care of it.
Taehyung had Yoongi to take care of their family.
Taehyung calms, letting his shoulders fall, and leans more firmly against Yoongi’s chest. It warms Yoongi and a small smile finds its way to his face.
Their lips touch, lazy little pecks and soft nuzzling in the minutes that passed where no words were exchanged. Till Taehyung looks up at Yoongi and ask, “Are we going to be the best parents ever?”
“Yes, yes we are.”
(Bonus:
“I’m moving in with Yoongi-hyung!”
Jimin spat his drink straight at a now disgusted, Thai tea covered Hoseok. Jungkook, who had been giggling about their prank as Taehyung and Yoongi approached their table, was unable to pick his jaw up from where it had fallen on the ground, eyes wide as saucers. Namjoon and Seokjin weren’t fairing much better either.
“Since you know, we have a baby coming and it would be hard to raise it if we were living across town from each other,” Taehyung pauses, leaning forward and whispering loudly, “Plus, I don’t trust hyung to wake up when she cries at night!”
She? Jungkook chokes.
“Wait wait, what?!”
“Tae, you have to slow down and let the news sink in first.” Yoongi cards his hand through the baby hairs on the back of Taehyung’s neck, kneading the other’s scalp pleasantly. “Our dear friends might be a little overwhelmed, babe.” Yoongi meets each and everyone’s eyes. A knowing glint that promised pain and suffering paired with a Cheshire grin had them shaking with apprehension.
“Tae and I are going to start building a family; for the baby.” Yoongi smiles, sits down and that was that.
From then on, the group chat would periodically receive pictures of Yoongi and Taehyung, shopping for cribs and strollers and which one was better, guys?
They think it’s a joke. The couple was pranking them back. But months later, a crisp invitation to Min Yoongi and Kim Taehyung’s Wedding arrives in their mail, alongside a plane ticket and a note scrawled with “Thank you, assholes.” (Jungkook’s was extra special in that his had a tacked on “And how the hell did you get your hands on estrogen pills?”))
(They adopted a beautiful daughter. She only had one leg but gained two more hands, legs and hearts through her fathers.)