Chapter Text
It’s one week to March already, Hoseok groans as he looks at his phone. So maybe he can distinguish Yoongi’s breaths and sighs and the shuffling of his feet but why, oh why can’t he think of a birthday present to give to him? There are basically three things Yoongi loves: music, photography, and sleep. He’s too scared to give Yoongi anything music-related because he might get something wrong, he knows nothing of photography, and sleep-wise… sleeping pills? He’s sure that the fans would give him stuffed toys or clothes or bath bombs, so they’re out of the equation. What could he possibly give Yoongi that nobody else can?
Jimin had found him sulking about it when he realized that fuck, it’s the end of February, and he spent four hours browsing the internet trying to look for a suitable present, even going as far as typing in great gift ideas for your grandpa because everything else seems so childish and common and no, he cannot afford that Olympus camera Yoongi had been talking about since it came out August last year. Maybe he can buy him a long-range lens.
So he looked up how much it would cost and grumbled internally because really? Half of his earnings go straight to the bank so that he could buy a three-bedroom apartment someday, or a car, or basically anything that would attract nice girls, Hobi-yah, and I won’t have my grandkids sleeping on the streets because their father didn’t know how to economize. One fourth goes to his parents, and the other fourth is what he keeps, but most of them go to clothes or his collection. Thinking about it, he should have saved more when he had the chance. It’s just that… he never really factored in having a boyfriend since Taehyung, and that boyfriend being Yoongi just complicates matters even worse. Maybe he can take out some of the money he has in the bank but then his mother would be notified and would ask him where he spent it on and if he says it’s for his significant other she’d demand to meet her right there and then or if he lies and tells her it’s for an emergency—what emergency could warrant him to withdraw that much money?
Shit. Maybe he should ask Namjoon for a loan or something.
Right.
Because Seokjin will never give him any, that’s for sure, not with how he talks to his mother about saving and buying cheaper alternatives to everything and knowing where to buy the cheaper products— cheaper being the operative word. Seokjin would flip and tell him to get something within his budget but this is his first gift to Yoongi and he wants to impress him so much he would kiss him again. Because the last time they’d kissed was on Hoseok’s birthday when he felt so hurt that Yoongi didn’t get him anything.
“Joon-ah, I need two million won,” he says as he wraps his arms around Namjoon’s waist to keep him from escaping.
Namjoon nearly drops his phone. “Wh-what? What for?” he sputters, tries to extricate Hoseok’s arms from his stomach but to no avail. “This isn’t because of a drug problem, is it, Hobi?”
Hoseok releases his hold so he could give him a wounded look. “I didn’t know you think like that about me.”
“Well you look like it.”
“What?” He smacks the other boy’s arm rather strongly, and Namjoon yelps a strong, resounding, ouch!
“Face it, Hoseok-ah. Only Yoongi-hyung thinks you’re handsome.”
“And the fans!”
“Yeah, and your mother. They don’t count.”
Hoseok smacks him again. “Here I am breaking down from pressure and you’re insulting me!”
“Oh my God, I’m sorry!” Namjoon quickly apologizes, runs his hands all over Hoseok’s head and arms because everybody knows Hoseok doesn’t take well to pressure. “I was just trying to lighten the mood.”
“Yah, I’m okay!” he says, but does not stop Namjoon from awkwardly patting him because if his boyfriend won’t give him affection he’s damn right entitled to receive it from his friends.
“I’ll get you that two million but Hobi, you have to tell me what it’s for, okay?”
Namjoon is talking down at him like a child, or like a suicidal patient. “You have two million lying around? Somehow I think that’s unfair.”
“Of course I don’t have two million, but I’ll get it for you if you tell me what you need it for.”
And Hoseok feels so loved, he scoops Namjoon in his arms and tells him he’s the best friend ever. “I will love you until the day I die, Namjoonie,” he sobs dramatically against Namjoon’s neck and the younger boy pushes him off.
“Don’t touch me! You stink and you’re all wet and Yoongi-hyung will kill me if he sees us.”
They’re in the dorm, waiting for their turn to shower, and Namjoon is waiting outside the door for Jimin and Taehyung to finish up. Yoongi had called dibs on the other bathroom because he said he needed a good scrub, making Seokjin groan because he says he feels dirty and won’t Hoseok join Yoongi to cut down his waiting time, please, but then he changed his mind because he realized it definitely won’t cut down on his waiting time. Once in a while, Namjoon would bang at the door and tell the terrible two to quiet down or hurry up, but the only answer he’s given are giggles.
“So? What do you need all that money for?”
Hoseok lets him go so he could look at him in the eye. “Did you know that the 40-150 millimeter lens Yoongi-hyung has been sulking about costs around one point eight million minus shipping costs?”
Namjoon looks petrified. He stays still for about thirty seconds without blinking, hands frozen on Hoseok’s shoulders.
It’s a relief that Namjoon understands just how shocking this piece of news is. “Yeah, I had the same reaction, too. I just stared at my laptop screen because it’s so unbelievable—”
“You’re unbelievable,” the younger boy cuts him off. He sighs very loudly and proceeds to whack Hoseok with his towel. “Oh my God, Hobi, I was ready to die from a heart attack thinking of—” Whack! Ouch, what the hell you asshole! “— the worst case scenario, like your mother having Stage 3 breast cancer—” Whack! Why are you such a drama queen? Whack! “— or your father falling victim to investment fraud—” Whack! He’s a school teacher, Joon-ah! “—or your sister being held hostage—” Whack! Who’d want to be stuck with her? Whack! Ouch, stop it! Jin-hyung! Kookieeeee!
Namjoon gives him one final whack, and Hoseok is already stumbling back on the couch. “Just rent a hotel and have eight hours of birthday sex!”
“Shhh! He might hear you!” Hoseok looks around in panic. “And what the hell?”
“If you’re planning on doing that, Hobi, let Yoongi top sometimes, alright? He also needs to dance.” Suddenly Seokjin is there, plopping down on the sofa next to Namjoon. “And FYI, your boyfriend is out there showering with another man. He’s really into younger people, so be careful of getting replaced” he says casually.
Seokjin can be mean when he’s not showered and dressed and fed like a royal princess.
“Why is Yoongi-hyung suddenly so hot right now he’s getting all the guys?” Namjoon groans.
“Don’t know. Must be the extra release of testosterone or something. Why don’t you ask Hoseok here?”
Hoseok rolls his eyes. “Ugh! Why does everybody think we’re having sex?”
“You’re not?” Seokjin and Namjoon ask in unison.
“All we need is love, hyung.”
“Seriously?” Namjoon chokes on air.
“Love?” Seokjin chokes on air at the same time.
“How can you not be having sex?” the blonde reiterates and Seokjin slaps a hand over his mouth.
“Shut up for a while, Joon-ah. Hobi, did you tell him this? Did you tell him you love him?”
The answer is obvious. “Of course not. He might pop a vein and we wouldn’t want him dying of aneurysm, would we?”
“Oh Hobi…” Seokjin coos, reaching down to pinch Hoseok’s cheeks in something akin to maternal fondness.
“So does my question get answered next now?” Namjoon pipes up and Seokjin withdraws his fingers from Hoseok’s cheeks to slap Namjoon on the arm.
“What is it with you and my sex life?”
“Consider this. If you were me, you’d also wonder how it’s like for Yoongi-hyung to be having sex. I mean, he bottoms for you, right, like, what the fuck is up with that?”
Hoseok needs a douse of something blessed by a supernatural being to cleanse his ears of that filthy piece of information that might just ruin a friendship. If Namjoon wasn’t Namjoon, Hoseok would have punched him, but Namjoon is Namjoon so Hoseok just shakes his head and sighs because Namjoon can be exasperating sometimes when he’s not being a genius.
Thankfully, Seokjin gets to smacking Namjoon’s head before Hoseok could do it himself. “I didn’t need that image in my head, Joon-ah. Now I won’t be able to think of anything else!”
“Hoseok-ah,” Namjoon looks serious, now. He’s sobering up, running a hand over his ruined hair and he’s going to scold Hoseok for being that kind of boyfriend who makes up for his shortcomings with expensive gifts. Honestly, that’s what Hoseok feels— inadequate. Sure, he can dance, but Yoongi can compose and create melodies and poem-like lyrics with such introspective messages that reflect his deep understanding of the world and all Hoseok can do is— dance. So Hoseok winces and waits for it. “Tell me…”
Hoseok holds his breath.
“… what did you bribe him with? Because there’s no way he’d voluntarily offer his ass—”
Hoseok dives for Namjoon with a war cry and Seokjin doesn’t stop him.
.
.
.
Maybe Hoseok should be thankful that Yoongi is rarely ever jealous. Never jealous, in fact, not even when he watched the broadcast for Star King with the other members and Jimin was looking at him dirty, Namjoon kicked him from behind, and Seokjin pinched his arm. Later on, he saw Taehyung entering the hyung room and he didn’t come to sleep in their room that night. After that ‘Apple Lady’ segment, Hoseok got up and pulled Yoongi along with him, and the elder grumbled that he’s still watching, what the fuck are you trying to ruin my happiness, Jung Hoseok?
That’s exactly what Hoseok is trying not to do, though, and as soon as he had closed Yoongi and Seokjin’s bedroom door, he whirled around to give Yoongi a kiss. The elder had promptly shoved him, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his arm and glaring at him angrily. “What the fuck, Hoseok-ah? What was that for? How would something like that get you fucking horny? What the fuck.”
“Hyung, I like you. I don’t like her, I like you,” Hoseok had told him pleadingly, his fingers digging into the soft material of Yoongi’s black cotton sweater as the elder tried to break free.
“What? I know that! Why in the world are you—” A pause, a sigh, and then “—oh come on!” Yoongi had exclaimed, slumped against the wall with a groan, and Hoseok’s grip loosened on instinct. “Did you think I would get jealous? Just because of that?”
Hoseok straightened up, his hands sliding off of Yoongi. “Well, I… are— aren’t you?”
“No!” Yoongi frowned at him, clearly offended by the insinuation. “You look at Jimin’s body with predator eyes, I’m pretty much immune at this point.”
“Hyung! I do not— listen, it’s— it’s nothing like that!” Why, oh why must Hoseok always be the one fucking up this relationship?
Yoongi’s face had grown hard, distant, unreadable. “There’s no need to lie about this, Hobi. I’m perfectly aware that you’re a full-functioning male adult. You have desires, you have a penis, you know that one you brandish like a weapon around the dorm—”
“Yoongi, please, don’t do this.” Hoseok had been practically on the verge of tears, and he was hugging himself for comfort without him noticing it. How can he put his apology into words? How can he tell Yoongi that his fascination of Jimin and the Apple lady’s perfect bodies are just fascinations for, well, perfect bodies? If he says it like that it wouldn’t make any sense. He was just in awe of their proportions, he’s not lusting after either of them or anything, but if he also says it like that it wouldn’t make any sense.
Suddenly, the elder laughed. “Look at you, Hobi, I was just joking. Don’t cry, oh my God.”
Hoseok didn’t even know he was crying until he felt Yoongi’s thumbs brushing the tears from his cheekbones. But Yoongi’s response had made him really, really angry because how can he take this as a joke? He’s suffering like this, trying to prove himself worthy, trying not to fuck up again, trying so goddamn hard for the past three months and when he thought he was finally getting somewhere, he finds out that Yoongi thinks everything he’d done so far was all a joke.
So he snapped. “Joking? You’re just joking?” He doesn’t care anymore if the members could hear them. The walls are not exactly thick enough to be soundproof. “I’m taking this relationship as seriously as I can and you’re just joking?” He’s never been articulate when he’s crying, but crying angry is suddenly making him fluent. “Do you know how much it hurts me when you pull away, hyung? When you give me that ‘you fucked up again’ look and I feel so sick because I can’t do anything right? When I say I like you and you just ignore me, and I know, I know, there must be a reason why she left me, hyung, I know I’m not— that I can’t be the perfect boyfriend but do you even like me anymore?”
“Hoseok, stop—” Yoongi reached out his hands to touch him but Hoseok flinched away because he’s so angry and frustrated and dejected all at the same time.
“Are you going to tell me later that you were just joking when you said you’d give me a chance—”
“Hoseok-ah—”
“—when you said you like me, was that out of pity? Poor, poor Hoseokie let’s not make him cry or he’ll end up in the hospital again?”
“Of course not—”
Empty words. Yoongi’s spouting empty words and Hoseok is floundering on air but Yoongi has not given him anything to hold on to. “Then what!? You never tell me anything and I’m sick of it!” Yoongi is staring at him, eyes wide and fearful, and he’s never seen Yoongi like this, he doesn’t ever want to see Yoongi like this.
“Baby, please, stop,” Yoongi had his arms wrapped around Hoseok’s neck, rather forcefully, and Hoseok went still at the term of endearment. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. This time, I’m the one who fucked up.”
And just like that, Hoseok resumed crying, his arms reaching around Yoongi’s waist as he sobbed loudly into Yoongi’s hair and yes, he may be getting snot into the strands but it’s Yoongi’s fault that he’s crying so hard like this, anyways, so he should just deal with the consequences. “C-call me that. Hyung, call m-me that again.”
“Baby, my baby Hoseok-ah. Of course I still like you,” Yoongi assured him with a soft voice, a little coarse and edgy and breathy but it’s gentle, and Hoseok closed his eyes and tried to relax to the low and comforting timber of Yoongi’s voice. He trailed kisses on Hoseok’s jawline, down the side of his throat, while telling him he’s sorry and that he likes him, how could I ever stop liking you huh? You make it impossible, Hoseok-ah.
“Okay,” Hoseok had relaxed his whole body against Yoongi, had melted against him, had smiled against his soiled hair. “Okay.”
It was their first fight since December of last year, but not their last. Hoseok had been really careful not to piss Yoongi off in any way, so everything broke like a dam once he started talking.
Call him childish, irrational, narrow-minded, but Hoseok can’t help it. He doesn’t fall too often, but when he falls, he falls deeply. So deeply it takes him years to get over a broken love. It’s only been her, and Taehyung, and now, Yoongi. But Yoongi is careful, and Hoseok doesn’t really mind it, but after what Yoongi had said to him last Christmas, Hoseok had been extra sensitive.
We all know what you’re like when you feel lonely.
I don’t want to get hurt again, Hoseok-ah.
Do you understand what I’m giving you?
So yes, it’s important for Hoseok to give Yoongi something that shows his devotion, something off-camera, something private between them, something that Yoongi will look at and think that it’s only for him.
“A camera lens is too insincere,” Jimin tells him.
“Plus, hyung’s saving up for it,” Taehyung adds.
“Aren’t you buying him that mackerel?” Jeongguk asks. “It’s already funny enough. Why should you get him another gift?”
“Jeonggukie, please, let the adults talk.”
“Shut up Jimin-hyung, talk to me when you can halve my life bar.”
They’re in Hoseok and Jimin and Taehyung’s room playing Street Fighter, Jeongguk is Orochi and Jimin is Iori, Taehyung is waiting for his turn with his head on Jeongguk’s lap and Hoseok is lying on his chest watching them scream and shout and murder the game controllers. He’s sighing very loudly once in a while, though, and it’s no secret what he’s sighing about.
“That Orochi is OP, you shut up. You can keep attacking long-range no no no no!” Jimin slumps back down at the edge of the mattress as Jeongguk grins at him cheekily. “I’m out, my pride can only take so much.”
Taehyung reaches for the controller and chooses Chun Li.
“I kept telling you to make him a mix CD” Taehyung says as he takes Jimin’s spot on the floor.
“Seriously, why do you need to give him a gift?” the youngest turns his head to ask him. “What did you do?”
“I’ll tell mom and dad to give you ‘the talk’ later,” Taehyung sighs.
“I can’t give him a mix CD, he might hate it. You know how he is with his ‘music is my life’ mentality, he can be pretty harsh.” He slams his face on the mattress. “What would should I get him, Jiminie?”
“I’m giving him a gift as a friend, hyung. You have to give him something more personal and a lot more cringe-worthy. You know, something like a scrapbook.”
Hoseok blanches. “Scrapbook. You forget who I’m dating.”
“You’re dating?” Jeongguk drops the controller and doesn’t care that Taehyung is taking advantage of the situation to beat up his Ryu. “Who?”
“Be serious now, Jeongguk,” Hoseok frowns at him. He groans in frustration and leaps up from the bed. “I’m going to the practice room, who’s coming?”
“Me!” the youngest scrambles off his feet, Ryu and Taehyung forgotten.
“Might as well.”
.
.
.
“Hoseok-ah.”
Hoseok slams his laptop shut in surprise. He turns his head in the direction of Yoongi’s voice and sees the elder looking back at him with a raised eyebrow. “H-h-hey, hyung!” he stammers, his heart beating so fast on his chest as he sets aside his laptop on the mattress, under his pillow, and shifts so he’s facing Taehyung’s bed where Yoongi chose to sit on top of.
“It’s okay to watch porn, Hobi.”
“Hyung, I swear it’s not—”
“I said, it’s fine,” Yoongi chuckles, smooths the polyester of his shorts and totally enjoying the way that Hoseok’s face distorts in frustration. “Just go to sleep so you won’t be too tired for tomorrow.”
Tomorrow? Hoseok looks at him questioningly because do they have an important schedule tomorrow?
“You forgot.” Yoongi’s face turns sour. He gets up from the bed and flicks Hoseok’s nose. And then suddenly Yoongi’s face is close, so close that Hoseok could smell the mint toothpaste in his breath, which made his eyes dart down to Yoongi’s lips because they’re slightly parted— slightly red, slightly pink, slightly plump, and overwhelmingly… kissable. So Hoseok leans in to do just that, until he looks closely and those lips are quirked into a mischievous lop-sided smile and Hoseok just knows that smile. But he gets distracted by Yoongi’s hand sliding up from his knee, to his lap, to his inner thigh, and he sucked in a sharp breath and was about to pull Yoongi into a kiss, Jimin and Taehyung be damned. So they’ll be traumatized or whatever, right now Hoseok doesn’t care. It’s been a long, long time since he got some, since he got even a little, and Yoongi is beautiful and enchanting and seductive and—
Scheming.
“So what are you so busy about you forgot something we’ve been planning for weeks?”
His laptop is already on Yoongi’s hand, and he’s opening it, settling down on Taehyung’s bed, and Hoseok is panicking because he has thirty-seven tabs open in three windows searching for cheaper lenses because Namjoon is a stingy bastard.
No, no, no, no!
Without hesitation, he tackles Yoongi down Taehyung’s bed, and the elder goes down easily.
“Aw, aw, aw, you mother— fuck, Hoseok, get off! I can’t—”
While he’s busy catching his breath, Hoseok snatches the laptop from his hand and closes all the windows quickly, years of avoiding being caught watching… compromising… stuff finally paying off. He breathes a sigh of relief and sets the laptop down the mattress, ready to give a speech about trusting one’s boyfriend.
Then Jimin and Taehyung walk in, mid-laugh. They stood there gaping, laughs frozen on their faces, for about three seconds before Hoseok realizes the situation.
Yoongi is lying on Taehyung’s bed, shirt riding halfway up from the struggle, trapped between Hoseok’s legs, his arms thrown over his head— and lying on Taehyung’s bed.
Taehyung squeals. He squeals, loudly, pointing at Yoongi and Hoseok and stuttering, “Th-they— on my, on my— Jiminie my eyes! My bed! My… my children! They’ve stolen my children’s innocence!”, his children being his stuffed toys.
“Hobi-hyung, we talked about this!” Jimin scolds him, his eyes partially covered by fingers spread over his face, eyes peeking between the spaces.
Yoongi pushes Hoseok off him finally realizing the situation, too, and grumbles his way outside their room. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”
“That’s really so reassuring, hyung,” Taehyung calls out to him, running straight ahead to his bed to gather his children in his arms. “Tell me you didn’t get anything on them, or I swear I’ll get something on your Kumamon!”
“Taehyung-ah, you exceed my expectations. Here I was worried you don’t know what masturbation is.” Yoongi smiles up at him, pats his shoulder, and was about to head out the door leaving Jimin and Taehyung gaping in shock had Seokjin and Namjoon not been running towards them asking what was wrong, why was Taehyung screaming, and what did Yoongi do again.
“Mom, dad, they were doing the dirty on my bed!” Taehyung tells on them.
“I told you to rent a hotel!” Namjoon fake-gasps.
“Fuck off, Namjoon,” Yoongi rolls his eyes at him, but without its usual bite.
Hoseok ended up laundering Taehyung’s sheets and stuffed toys. Alone.
It was so unfair, and he grumbles about it to Yoongi before their recording for V.
“You could have helped me, hyung. It’s partly your fault.”
Yoongi only graces him with a blank look, settling down on his chair. “It’s your fault I had to resort to dirty tactics.”
“What did you have to resort to dirty tactics for? I told you I wasn’t watching…” He looks around, and the crew were setting up cue cards and lights, so he leans down and whispers into Yoongi’s ear, “… porn.”
The elder turns his head towards him, not caring at all for personal space, and Hoseok holds his breath because holy hell there are people around.
Hoseok swallows. “Hyung?”
Yoongi grins. “Why are you so nervous? You’re supposed to make it funny, okay? That’s why you’re here.”
“What? Can’t have fun without me?”
“Eh, you’re alright.” Yoongi shrugs, playing with the zipper of his coat.
“Just admit it, you think I’m hilarious.” The dancer flashes him his widest grin.
“Yeah, but mostly because of your face. Funny shit.”
And Hoseok cocks an eyebrow at that. “You think I’m pretty, you wanna date me~” he sing-songs, keeping his voice to a low rumble so as not to be picked up by the cameras.
Yoongi is not easily ruffled. “Been there, done that.”
“And are you satisfied with your care?”
The elder narrows his eyes in confusion. “That phrase sounds familiar?”
It was Hoseok’s turn to roll his eyes. “Ugh. I forgot you sleep through movies without gore, violence, or explicit language.”
“Wow, you know me so well,” Yoongi remarks dryly.
“Yeah, so don’t cheat, okay?”
“I don’t cheat.”
“You always cheat!”
“It’s not cheating, it’s called maneuvering through restrictions for survival.”
“In short, cheating.”
“You’re live in three minutes,” one of the staff inform them, and they automatically check their appearance on the camera.
Hoseok fixes up his neck warmer and is startled when he feels fingers comb through his hair. He raises an eyebrow at the elder. “You look like a heathen,” Yoongi says, brushing the strands on Hoseok’s middle part. Happiness blooms in Hoseok’s chest and he greets the camera with a wide smile.
.
.
.
Min Yoongi is a cheater.
He parades his cute little butt in those cute little shorts for Hoseok to see, and gets out of the tub adjacent to Hoseok’s room smelling like heaven, his bare, unmarked skin in full display. In music shows, he strips in front of Hoseok without regard to the younger’s general well-being, and Hoseok has to get out of the dressing room with a cough, Namjoon patting him in fake consolation as he hides a smile behind his other hand. It’s as if Yoongi forgets that Hoseok is not only attracted to his dry humor and silent kindness, but also to his body as well. It’s as if he forgets that the last time they’d touched each other intimately was last Christmas, after their first big fight. The kiss they shared during Hoseok’s birthday does not count because they were interrupted by Taehyung’s sleep talking, which of course killed the mood (for Yoongi, mostly).
Maybe he knows the effect it has on Hoseok, but he couldn’t be sure because Yoongi always moves about with a poker face, a slight grimace here and there if he’s uncomfortable. Nothing major.
Hoseok sees something flying his way, startling him from his thoughts, and instinctively reaches out to grab it before it hits his face. Something cold, wet. A water bottle. He looks up at his assailant. “Aish, hyung, don’t kill me with a water bottle, please.”
Yoongi merely grunts at him and proceeds to drink from his own canister.
The dancer has to look away because he’s angling his neck and jawline and collarbones in a way that makes Hoseok remember that he’s a guy, he’s human, and his boyfriend is hot but they have issues. And Hoseok doesn’t want to add his cock into that mix of issues. Hoseok twists the bottle cap open and looks at the clock. Six minutes to midnight. He still doesn’t have a gift for Yoongi, and tomorrow they have a schedule. Maybe he should just buy the goddamn earrings online, the silver studs with black onyx accent.
In the end, the answer to Jung Hoseok’s torments would come in the shape of a 5’ 10” tall baby that he wants to adopt in the future, with or without said baby’s parental consent.
“Hyung! Are you really dating Yoongi-hyung?” Jeongguk comes to him suddenly while he’s practicing his lines in Japanese, in the office. His voice is hushed, his face flushed as if he ran all the way to where Hoseok is seated the moment he heard the news.
Hoseok groans internally because have they not been very obvious? Even the managers were teasing him about it, but not too kindly. “Y-yeah. Is that— no, does that bother you? Because I can keep the touching to a minimum—”
“Why was I not informed of this? Why am I always the last one to know?”
He doesn’t seem as angry towards the idea of his hyungs getting together as he is not being told that they’re together, so Hoseok releases a tense breath. “Uhm, what? The others tease me about it all the time, how could you not have known?”
“Well, because it’s… it’s like being told the Earth is flat? I thought they were just joking! And you’re touchy with everybody, I don’t see the difference!”
“You… you don’t?” That’s the first time Hoseok is hearing about this.
“No? I mean, if there’s anybody I would even remotely imagine you dating it would be… Jimin-hyung? Or Taetae-hyung?”
“Seriously? Jeongguk-ah is that… is that what it looks like?”
Wide, shining eyes met his gaze. “Well, yes?”
“Fuck,” Hoseok curses under his breath. “No, I’m sorry. Sorry, I just… fuck. Jin-hyung’s going to kill me for cursing in front of you but really?”
Jeongguk nods, settling down on the chair behind Hoseok as the elder tries to process their maknae’s words. “How do you sneak out to go on dates?” he asks as the silence stretches for too long and Hoseok abandons his script on the table.
Shit. “We, uh, we haven’t.”
The boy stares back at him in shock. “Oh. Oh.” The silence that followed is longer than before.
“Maybe um, I could help you?” Jeongguk says, his voice tentative.
“Help me?”
“I mean… I have an idea, if you want to try it out. We have activities on the 9th, but on the night of the 6th, we’re free. I could provide a good distraction so that you can roam around.”
“Alright, I’m listening.”
So that’s how they came to this part: their first date.
“It’s not our first date,” Yoongi says from behind his face mask, the one thing Seokjin told him twice not to forget to pack. “It’s our second. Remember when I brought Italian food to the studio day before Valentine’s?”
“That one doesn’t count. Namjoon was there.”
“He’s your chaperone because you’re still a kid.”
“Or maybe yours because you’re a grandpa.”
“I wish I brought my cane so that I could hit you with it.”
“You have another cane that you can hit me with.”
“Yah! Why does everything have to turn greasy with you?”
Hoseok laughs and rummages around his ‘date supplies’, as Taehyung has fondly labelled it, which consisted of things that the members threw in his backpack so that he wouldn’t completely fail and piss off Yoongi-hyung.
(“Did you remember to pack the heat pads?”
“Yes, it’s here.”
“Gloves.”
“Do we need those?”
“Use your imagination, Hobi.”
“Oh. Oh. Okay. Thanks, dad.”
“Didn’t I disown you already?”
“Face masks? Sun glasses?”
“Check, mom. No need to panic.”
“Cash?”
“Yes, dad.”
“Are you sure you packed the face masks?”
“Ugh. Yes, mom.”
“And these!”
“These are… what the hell, Jimin!
“It was Taehyung’s idea!”)
He took out the gloves and handed it to Yoongi as they walked to the family restaurant in Hongdae that sells the only lamb skewers that Yoongi approved of. It’s not very fancy, but this date was really last-minute. They ate, quickly, because Yoongi noticed a couple of girls looking their way, and even though the elder had hidden his hair under a nondescript black beanie, his facial features are still really noticeable. They opted to walk around the streets, scarves drowning half their faces because wearing sun glasses at night is just plain dumb.
It’s nice, being able to talk to Yoongi like this, walking beside him casually, looking at the streetlights and sitting on a park bench when Yoongi declared that he was tired. Hoseok risks buying them street food, and they eat while talking about inconsequential things, like Hoseok’s Japanese, his sister’s job search, Yoongi’s brother’s job search, going to the army, the possibility of Seokjin buying his own building, the rising cost of apartment rates, the inconveniences of buying a car, fearing for Taehyung’s life if he does eventually learn how to drive and buy a car.
They get home a little past midnight. Yoongi holds his hand and kisses him on the train when nobody could see.
(“Jeonggukie.”
“Yeah, hyung?”
“Thank you.”
“Yeah. Now get off me.”)
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It’s five minutes before midnight, five minutes before the ninth, but they’re still in the studio. Namjoon stands up from where he’s seated between Hoseok and Yoongi, claiming that he has to check on the others in the practice room because, ya ‘know, leader responsibilities. He’s really dumb sometimes, especially when it comes to being subtle. Scratch that. He’s not subtle at all. “I’ll be back in half an ten minutes for the recording and I better not see or smell anything funny. Turn on the exhaust fan if need be.”
Yoongi ignores him, his eyes glued to the screen, so it’s Hoseok’s responsibility to thwack him on the head.
“Are you satisfied with the phrasing of this one?” Yoongi suddenly speaks up when Namjoon closes the door. “Isn’t it awkward? Because if you translate it directly to Korean it says, ‘tough typhoon and wind’ and it doesn’t make sense. Can you look up in the Nihongo dictionary quickly?”
“Sure,” Hoseok says, but instead of going straight for his computer he takes out a small box wrapped in red and hands it to Yoongi. “Happy Birthday, hyung.”
Yoongi stares at the gift, and then at Hoseok. “Hoseok…” he breathes out, and stretches a shaky hand to take the box.
“You can open it later when we’re finished recording for the V app.”
The elder nods, and they get back to work.
“We need a three-syllable word, right?”
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At, Hoseok discovers later, four in the fucking morning, with less than two hours of sleep and a day of practice waiting ahead of him, the dancer is woken up by someone shaking him violently.
“Hey, Hoseok!” he finally registers Yoongi’s voice after flailing at his assailant weakly with his hands. If it were a burglar or a murderer, Hoseok would’ve been dead, but that’s another argument for the future. “Hoseok, wake up!”
“H-hyung? Go ‘way,” he manages to string his words into a coherent thought.
“Hoseok!” Yoongi is hitting his arm, and Hoseok nearly cries because of exhaustion.
“What you need?” he whines, burying his head beneath a pillow and curling on himself. Yoongi snatches his blanket and tosses it somewhere. Hoseok grumbles. His love of the elder does not extend to being woken up at ass o’clock. “Mmmmm cold…”
“Wake up, goddamnit! Come to the living room. I’ll be waiting there.”
“Wait all you want,” Hoseok mumbles, buries his face on the mattress.
So Hoseok says, but he follows Yoongi anyway, hair tousled and face bloated from interrupted sleep, his eyes still adjusting to the light and his mouth dry and spongey.
Yoongi gets up from the sofa and drags the younger until he’s seated properly. Hoseok blinks up at him in confusion, brain refusing to think. “I heard your message.”
Oh. That was enough to sober Hoseok up. Yoongi’s heard the message. Hoseok’s heart beats faster and he feels the adrenaline surge throughout his body. “And? What can you say?”
After weeks and weeks of agonizing, Hoseok got Yoongi a digital voice recorder, a small one the size of a palm, and he left a recording in before wrapping it with leftover Christmas wrappers from when they’d decorated a little.
“I… I did get you something… for your birthday but—”
Hoseok’s eyes widen. Well isn’t this night full of surprises. Yoongi is biting his lip, just staring down at the younger with his newly-dyed hair that Hoseok itched to compliment. “But?”
“Well I was gonna give it to you, you know, after your broadcast, when everybody’s asleep but then…” he trails off again, sighs, and sits on the coffee table. Hoseok patiently waits for him. Yoongi swallows. “Then Jiminie gave you those shoes and I— I didn’t get you anything as fancy and I feel so lame so I just stuffed it under my bed.”
“Hyung!” Hoseok exclaims in surprise. “I’ll be happy whatever you give me. It’s not what you give that’s important to me, you know”
“Oh? Because… because on Valentine’s Day I got you something, too.”
“And stuffed it under your bed?”
“Well it’s not like you have friends you can brag about it to, you know.”
If Hoseok hadn’t just been woken up from a tight slumber, he would have been crying by now. Yoongi is sitting across him, arms crossed, in those ridiculous shorts and an oversized tee, his beloved Yoongi, speaking to him in that voice coupled with that pout, telling him that he tried being romantic twice but gave up halfway.
“Yoongi? Can I kiss you, please?”
With just one look, and without a shred of hesitation, as if it’s also something that he has been thinking about, Yoongi kisses him. He gets up from the coffee table and settles beside Hoseok, puts an arm around the younger, fingers on his other hand gentle on Hoseok’s jaw as he cradles his face to meet his kisses. One, two, three pecks, and Yoongi is coaxing him to open his mouth with a gentle swipe of his hot tongue, but Hoseok pulls away because his own tongue is dry. “I just woke up, it won’t be nice.”
Yoongi stares at him for a moment, as if debating the consequences, before putting a short distance between their faces. “Hey, Hoseok.”
“Yeah, hyung?”
His gaze was intense, voice hoarse and fingers tight around Hoseok’s wrist when he says, “I love you.”
It takes a few moments for Hoseok to recover from shock because he did not expect such a confession to come this early, this easily, this simply, from Min Yoongi. Not Min Yoongi, who wouldn’t say ‘I like you’ back, not Yoongi, who says they should take it slow for their relationship to grow stronger because there will be a lot of problems to come and trust me, you’d think of quitting.
“Yoongi—”
“Don’t— don’t say anything. Don’t say anything, okay?” His fingers are pressed against Hoseok’s lips, and Hoseok stares down at him, nods, in understanding. Don’t say anything now, think about it first, that way you’re saying it when you’re not caught in the emotions of the moment. There are words Yoongi thinks are not necessary to say, and Hoseok sometimes has to read between the lines. It gets easier as time passes by, he takes note.
He takes Yoongi’s hand and slots their fingers together. “Happy birthday, hyung.”
Yoongi smiles, warmly, and says, “Thank you, baby.”
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[“Hi, Yoongi, uhm… (laugh) I hope you like this voice recorder. Frankly I’m a little nervous (laughs again). It’s really hard picking out a gift for someone, huh? I’m sorry I got mad at you for not buying me a gift on my birthday. I’m sure you agonized about what to give me because you’re a perfectionist and couldn’t decide. I’m sorry I doubted you just because you don’t tell me you like me. I mean, you did once say that even if you can’t say things you can show them, right? And I guess I’ve been too blind (deep sigh).”
“I realize that it’s not just anyone you let pick on you or dote on you. You’ve never been big on skinship, too, but I guess I’m just so used to receiving them that I didn’t think you touching me is special, that it’s not something you’d just do with anybody. When you pet my hair and hold my hand and tell me not to be nervous, I ignored all of those because you’re my friend, you know, you’re supposed to do those things. I thought you’re just being a good hyung, but then Jiminie says I don’t know how you look at me when I talk or that you’re the only one who laughs at all my lame jokes.”
“Jin-hyung says you’re always watching me when I eat, or when I dance, or when we’re in the waiting room, with that worried expression on your face (another loud laugh). And when you’re sure I’m fine he says you smile to yourself like you’re satisfied and it creeps him out. And speaking of Seokjin-hyung, he’s bullying me to clean your room, says that it’s my responsibility as your boyfriend. If you don’t want me messing around with your underwear, hyung, you better get cleaned up (another obnoxious laugh).”
“You care for me in ways I’m not used to. I guess that’s why I don’t notice when you make an effort. I have this idealized version of a relationship in my head so I tended to be… hmmm, closed off? It reminds me of all those times you ask me how my day went or if I’m fine or if my legs hurt, and you’re really waiting for my answer and you listen to everything I say like you really want to know (sniffling).”
“I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore, and I’m probably not making any sense but hyung— you can record up to sixteen hours in this thing, isn’t it amazing? (Several seconds of silence). We’re really shit at relationships, aren’t we? But no matter how shit we are and how bad things get I’m willing to go through all of those and learn how to become a better partner for each other. My ex-girlfriend and I, we quit when times got tough, you know? And it’s going to be even tougher for us… (some sniffling sounds again, and Hoseok blowing his nose). But I just wanted to tell you, I’m not quitting on us, no matter what you say. Now you have it all in recording (small laugh). Play this when you start doubting me, so please don’t delete it.”
“Happy Birthday.”]
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