Chapter Text
There are several ways Min Yoongi loves to wake up.
The smell of coffee, freshly brewed on a rain-splattered morning, a distant thunder promising long but cozy hours of work indoors.
The hushed mumblings of two or more of his band members quietly arguing whether to wake him or to simply add another blanket to the genius lab sofa where he had fallen off to sleep.
The long, lazy stretch of afternoon light letting him know he has slept well into the day, no pending schedules or assignments urging him out from under the covers.
He loves it, the moments of quiet before the hectic storm of the day. A perfect window of peace in an otherwise frantic scenery.
Waking up to a rough, sharp-nailed paw smacked hard against his face, however, isn’t particularly high on his list.
Yoongi groans, reaching up to grab an inexcusably furry body and attempting to peel it off his face. In his grasp something hisses angrily, small prickly little limbs beating against him. “Sugar!” Yoongi rumbles, his whisky-heavy sleep having left his throat dry and raspy. “Stop it!”
“Mweeoawh,” Sugar mewls back, absolutely enraged that Yoongi would have the audacity to displace him from his chosen resting place.
On his other side, Yoongi feels the cold touch of a bewhiskered nose, Holly peaking over his stomach to see what all the commotion is about. He sighs, placing Sugar down and immediately stroking him down along his back while reaching out an arm to pull Holly in close.
“Nice long Sunday, I could even sleep in, but no, you two menaces have to make sure I’m up and awake, don’t you?”
Sugar wiggles up to him, rubbing his little white head along the underside of his chin and purring loudly, his soft fur distracting Yoongi from the irritation he was feeling just moments ago. He pushes his endlessly vibrating cell phone away, unwilling to let the outside world in just yet. Right now it's just him and his two furboys; everything else can wait.
He ambles out of bed, ignoring the eight pitter-pattering paws immediately scuttling after him as he throws open the drapes to let in the morning sun. It’s a heady sort of day, slow and dreamy, the dust scattering in the light moving slow like molasses.
Yoongi takes a moment to just gaze outside, knowing this innate peace won’t last too long. It’ll be just a few weeks until he’s announcing his new album, just a few more before he’s going on tour, and he knows this might be one of his last chances for just lazing around.
Whistling softly to his two furry friends, he heads to the kitchen, stretching as he goes. “Come Holly! Sugar! What should Appa get you to eat today?” It’s a redundant question of course, their meals already nicely portioned out the night before by a far more energetic Yoongi. He sets their food down, turning on the stove to fry some eggs for himself, some leftover rice, and a side of kimchi thrown in for good measure. The tangerine in his palm is still cold from the refrigerator, Yoongi rubbing it against his palm in preparation for the juicer, the hum of the little machine a familiar comfort.
It is going to be a quiet day, he decides. He knows he has some files to send and some samples to listen to and a track to approve but he can’t really bring himself to care. The sunlight against his skin flushes warm and bright and he can’t help but feel drunk on the heady slowness that wraps its way around him. He’s left his phone in his bedroom and he decides for once he just wants to leave it there. For once, he just wants to be, all by himself, in the quiet solace of his own company.
“Wuk!”
Yoongi blinks out of his thoughts, looking down to where an overly- fluffed- up body is pressing up against his pyjama leg. Holly is clearly ready for his morning walk, his tiny face set in that somewhat aggressive leer he seems to think indicates his need for the bathroom. Yoongi thinks it seems more like a serial killer clown than anything else but it's a point he has failed at bringing across to Holly’s mostly selective understanding.
He sighs, reaching down to scratch at his scraggly little back. “You wanna go to the park hmm, Min Holly-yah? Come don’t worry, Appa will take you today.” He looks back up, glancing over at a highly content Sugar, who's now lazing in a patch of sunlight. “Sugar-ssi, will your esteemed presence be gracing us on this journey as well?”
Sugar looks up at the sound of his name, meowing ferociously when his eyes meet Yoongi’s and Yoongi can tell that even though he has not yet been forgiven for the little relocation episode earlier, Sugar will still tolerate him enough for a walk.
“Let Appa just grab a quick shower then we’ll head on down to the park, okay?” Yoongi says, pushing Holly off his foot and patting his warm belly. He gets to his feet stretching, mind still hazy with blissfully slow thoughts. “I’ll be just back.”
The water on his skin is a little cold for March but it sings of a melody he found himself forgetting on most days. Notes of longing and freedom and maybe spring as well, one he hums along to though he cannot confess to knowing the music they create. But it is familiar still, alive. And he wonders faintly if maybe he drowns out this quiet music of his daily life by chasing so restlessly after the one he seeks on the keys of his piano.
He shakes his head, dislodging quiet broodings of thunderous clouds to reflect a clearer mind, one made to reflect the sunny skies of Seoul just outside his window.
He changes into what he hopes are clothes inconspicuous enough to let him roam the streets, not wanting to alert either his security or the press that he’s headed down to the park. He pulls a baseball cap low over his head, tucking the odds and ends of his loose hair away into it, a letterman jacket thrown over his fatigued shoulders.
Sugar has taken to gnawing on Holly’s ear as a cure to his boredom, his white fur glossy and thick as he bunches up his little legs, tugging and pulling in gentle nips. Holly seems entirely unbothered by the younger’s antics, stretching luxuriously in the patch of webbed sunlight knotting across the floor. Yoongi can’t help but still for just a moment, the picture painting vividly in his mind as he does his best to memorise every aspect of it.
He’s aware vaguely that this is the last of such times he’s going to have for at least a good long while. The tour, he knows, will pass in a blink of an eye. At moments it will be agonising, at others so fleeting he will worry it is yet to come, still a figment of his feverishly longing imagination. After which he will be joining his brothers in the military, his furry friends possibly forgetting the feel of his touch over those years. But right now, he has it all still. The slowness, the anticipation, the future.
Holly is the first one out the door, little paws going scritchy-scratch against the wooden plank flooring. Sugar is a lazy straggler, barely seeming wholly conscious as he rolls out of the house, body bunched together as he lets out a deep yawn. He seems to come more alive in the cool spring breeze, chasing butterflies helter-skelter as Holly trudges dedicatedly along the park path. Yoongi watches them both fondly, his chest tight with a warmth too great to hold.
He settles down on a park bench, letting the touch of the breeze lead his gaze astray. It wanders as though completely on its own, skipping over an old couple sat huddled under a leafy oak, pausing near the food vendor’s cart to trace the shape of her wares. Yoongi sighs, letting his head tip back, letting himself bask in the quiet of his own mind.
It is the better part of an hour before Sugar lumbers up to him, body bunched and heavy to emphasise exhaustion. He hops up onto Yoongi’s lap, yawning grandly before crashing down into his lap. He sighs dramatically, stretching out across Yoongi, unceremoniously shoving a paw in his face. “Is this a not so subtle sign that a certain someone is ready to go home?” Yoongi scratches circles against his tummy, bending to kiss his little head. “Appa can take a hint. Come.”
He gets up, lifting Sugar easily in one hand and turning to whistle to Holly. “Holly, come on! Baby brother needs his overly- expensive carpet to nap on. Come come!” Holly jingles up, little tail wagging as his leash is reattached. Yoongi bends down, gathering them both into his arms and hugging them close. He has to quickly let go as two sand-papery rough tongues come out to lick at him, Holly and Sugar blissfully unaware his complaints are meant for them.
By the time Yoongi reaches back to his apartment, sleep has already begun to tug haphazardly at his lids, her heavy hand petting his hair till he is almost drowsy on his feet. He pauses as he is unlocking the door, certain for a moment he had heard voices. He shakes his head, pushing his way in, stopping again when he hears the voices, unmistakable this time. They’re coming from his living room, and Yoongi doesn’t even need to think for a moment before he can place each and everyone.
“So who let you six ragamuffins in on my off day?”
Jungkook turns to grin at him lazily, his smile almost teasing if not somewhat indulgent. Yoongi notices he’s wearing his apron, a batter- covered spatula in one hand. Jimin is lounging next to him, a piping bag filled with frosty blue icing clasped carelessly in his fingers. Namjoon and Hoseok are crammed into the same sofa chair, seemingly the ones in charge of the current conversation while Seokjin sits on the carpet, Taehyung sprawled across his lap.
“Well, since a certain birthday boy couldn’t even bother picking up his phone we had to come make sure you were still alive,” Seokjin sighs long-suffering, collapsing back against Hoseok’s legs. “And I thought I’ll bake a cake for my first-born.”
“Which you aren’t doing,” Jimin points out, “Jungkook is.”
“Potato Potahto,” Seokjin waves dismissively.
“You forgot, didn’t you?” Namjoon chuckles, “Hhyung, why are you like this?”
Yoongi leans against the doorframe, the words in his mouth blunted by the softness of the warmth glowing in his chest. “Aish, how else will you fools have an excuse to all land up here, hmm?” He steps aside, opening the door further to allow Sugar and Holly to come galumphing in to much cooing appreciation. “You better plan to stay the whole day now,” he threatens playfully, sidling up to the kitchen island to get a look at the bright blue batter of his impending birthday cake.
“Of course we will,” Jungkook whispers, an arm slipping around his waist to pull him into a tight hug. “Happy birthday, hyung.”