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Prompt: Morning cuddles.
“Hyung, wake up.”
Yoongi groaned, trying to ignore the soft butterfly touches on his cheek. A poke on the tip of his nose had him smiling sleepily, though, eyelids fluttering open. Soft, brown locks—tousled cutely, beautifully—invaded his blurry morning vision.
“Hyuuung, wake up, already! You’ll be late.”
Yoongi brought his hands to his face, trying to gruffly rub the sleep out of his system. A comfortable weight laid on his chest, familiar warmth seeping through his nightshirt. Yoongi finally cracked his eyes open, and Jimin—his sweet, beautiful, perfect, angelic Jimin—smiled down at him, chin resting on his folded arms, upper body perched on Yoongi’s chest, head tilted to one side as he watched his boyfriend slip out of his slumber-induced haze. Yoongi cleared his throat, smiling at Jimin before reaching a hand out and running long fingers through Jimin’s hair.
Jimin hummed softly, leaning into his touch, a smile slowly curving his lips upwards. “Hyung, you have to get up now, you know.”
Yoongi grunted softly, before deciding to just risk Jimin’s wrath in favor of a few more minutes of sleeping. He pulled Jimin into his arms before turning to his side, tangling their legs together and keeping Jimin pressed flush against his chest. Jimin squeaked in surprise, a gasp of protest escaping his lips right after. Yoongi didn’t let go, and soon, Jimin was giggling, soft breathy sounds shaking his body, and small fingers scrabbling against Yoongi’s arm in an attempt to make him let go (but really—Jimin wasn’t even trying). Jimin settled snugly in Yoongi’s arms, and Yoongi sighed softly in victory. More Jimin-cuddling—yes.
“Min Yoongi, you’re going to be late!” Jimin protested cutely, wiggling his legs a bit and laughing when he accidentally kneed Yoongi near the groin.
“Watch it, babe, there’s precious cargo there,” Yoongi mumbled, pressing his face against Jimin’s hair, nuzzling the soft brown strands and breathing in Jimin’s scent—sweet, earthy, and strangely reminiscent of the flowers that Yoongi’s grandmother used to have.
“I know there’s precious cargo there, Yoongi, but really, you have to get up. If you’re late, you’ll make me sad,” Jimin squirmed in his hold a bit, craning his head up. Their noses and lips brushed, and Jimin smiled at him.
Yoongi smiled back, slightly confused, before leaning in to peck Jimin on the lips. “Why would that make you sad, though?”
“Hmm…have I ever told you how nice your voice sounds?”
“You didn’t answer my question, love,” Yoongi retorted, frowning a bit at Jimin’s behavior.
Jimin didn’t say anything, however, and just continued smiling at him, looking at him. He pulled away, and Yoongi watched as Jimin stared at his face, obviously taking in everything there was to see. The younger man’s hands soon let go of his arm, slowly ghosting their way onto Yoongi’s face.
Jimin’s fingertips brushed gentle touches against Yoongi’s skin, strangely cold and electrifying to the touch. A thumb pressed against his lower lip, running across it softly. A forefinger brushed against the small, barely noticeable mole on his cheek. A pinky finger glided across the bottom of his eyes, on his cheekbones. Small hands soon cupped his face, and Yoongi let his eyelids flutter shut as Jimin closed the distance between them, soft plump lips gently nibbling on Yoongi’s in a sweet kiss.
“You’ll see, hyung,” Jimin whispered against his lips, and Yoongi was about to say something about cryptic messages when Jimin suddenly pulled away, rolling away from him and off the bed.
Yoongi laughed when his boyfriend slipped off the bed, a result of his miscalculation, and Jimin only pouted at him. The younger man stood up, dusting his boxers and shirt free of imaginary dust. He gestured at the bathroom vaguely.
“I’m just going to…” Jimin trailed off before letting his hand drop to his side, a wistful look passing his face, “hyung, you have to wake up now, okay?”
Yoongi only nodded, watching Jimin pad off into the bathroom, the white door gently closing shut behind him.
Yoongi isn’t sure how long it took him, but he fell asleep again.
This time, he was woken up by loud knocks rapping against his door, a total contrast from getting woken up by Jimin’s sweet voice and familiar warmth. He shot up, a frown on his face as he trudged through his apartment to reach the door. He opened it, and Taehyung stood outside, an apprehensive look on his face.
“Hyung—oh. I see you’re still not ready,” Taehyung started, glancing down at Yoongi’s tattered sweatpants and sleep-wrinkled shirt.
“Ready for what,” Yoongi groaned sleepily, but he doesn’t miss the something that flashes in Taehyung’s expression. Surprise? Sadness?
“…hyung, we’ll be late, and Jimin wouldn’t want you to be late,” Taehyung said carefully, stepping into the threshold slowly, tentatively, like he’s approaching a wild animal.
Yoongi doesn’t understand the cautiousness, though. Still, it must be something important if their 24/7 ball of sunshine was this calm and sober. “Okay, okay, hold on, let me get Jimin.”
Before Yoongi could step away, Taehyung’s hand shoots out to grab him by the wrist. Yoongi whips his head back in surprise, eyes wide and ready to snap at the younger—but then, he sees the tears streaming down Taehyung’s cheeks, his young pretty face contorted in anguish.
“Yoongi-hyung, please don’t do this again,” Taehyung’s deep voice cracks at the end, barely managing to choke out the words.
Yoongi doesn’t understand, but there’s something cold starting to settle in the pit of his stomach. “…what are you talking about—”
“Jimin’s not in the fucking bathroom, hyung.” Taehyung’s fingers tighten considerably around his wrist, and it hurts, but—
—Yoongi turns to the bathroom. The white door is open. The bathroom is empty.
He looks at their bed in the corner, and Jimin’s side—it wasn’t messy, wasn’t wrinkled.
It wasn’t slept on.
Something cold and heavy finally settles in Yoongi’s gut, and he looks at Taehyung. He can’t think, he can’t feel, his mind feels strangely empty, just a wide and vast empty space of coldness.
“…where are we going,” Yoongi mumbles quietly, and Taehyung loosens his grip around him, tugging him closer.
“…it’s the 24th today, hyung…it’s…it’s his third anniversary.”
Yoongi lets a broken sob escape his lips, and he doesn’t stop Taehyung when he tugs him in for an embrace. He’s warm, and feels like home, but it’s not the same—it’s not the same familiar warmth, and it feels like a different home. It’s not Jimin, because—
—how could Yoongi forget?
The 24th. Right. Jimin had left for Busan to visit his mother, and…
Oh, right—
—Jimin’s gone.